Blood of Mandalore

by Kurenaino

Engaged in a bloody civil war, the Mandalorian government requests the aid of the Jedi to help protect their Duchess, the last hope for peace in their war-torn world.

8. Iron Will

AN: I did it...

Holy crap, these just get longer and longer...in the event that you guys are bothered by this sort of thing, there are a few very dubious things in this chapter that push the rating a bit. It's not explicit by any means, but we're diving right into some things that may boarder on uncomfortable for a few people. Consider that your warning. Otherwise, my lovelies, enjoy! It's a big one!

Chapter 8: Iron Will

"You are so lucky!" Quinlan bemoaned, hissing in frustration when Obi-Wan just rolled his eyes. "And you don't even know it! That's the worst part about this, Obi, you don't even know!"

"There's nothing glamorous about this war, Quinlan, it's a bloody affair," Obi-Wan said softly, absently twirling his braid between his fingers in thought as he leaned back in the pilot's seat. His work and modifications on the ship complete, all that was left was to test the systems to be certain that everything was running as he wished, which meant a test of the shipboard com system he had encrypted for their use. And that meant checking in with his friends. Luminara hadn't responded, which left Obi-Wan with his Kiffar tormentor.

"It's better than being stuck in the Temple," Quinlan scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "I don't know why Master Tholme keeps doing this to me!"

"Maybe, Quin, it's because your behavior is unbefitting of a Jedi Knight," Obi-Wan said with a disapproving tone in his voice. "You're on the fast track to knighthood, and you possess a rare gift. You shouldn't squander it. You're fortunate to be talented, not all of us are."

"You know, you sound just like my Master..." Quinlan grumbled before he sighed in exasperation. "It isn't fair! I should have been Qui-Gon's apprentice, he lets you do whatever you want!"

"He most certainly does not!" Obi-Wan said indignantly. "I just follow the rules, I give him no cause to reprimand me!"

"I'm not being reprimanded, I'm being imprisoned!" Quinlan said dramatically, his arm covering his face in a show of melodrama. "Enslaved! Obi-Wan, it's awful! I'm not allowed to do anything!" The Kiffar pouted, running a hand through his thick, dreadlocked hair, which he had stubbornly refused to cut short as the Order recommended. Obi-Wan ran a hand through his own lengthening hair and frowned. He wasn't one to talk at the moment, though he had a better excuse than his friend.

"Well, what did you do to deserve it?"

"Nothing!" Quinlan cried, a betrayed look on his face, his hand laid over his chest. "I am a perfect angel, you know that, Obi!"

"Right..."

"...though I may have missed my morning lessons three days in a row." Obi-Wan sighed heavily and shook his head. "...oh, what!" the Kiffar cried. "I was sleeping, it's unfair to have training so early in the morning, you know how I like to sleep in!" Obi-Wan stared at his friend blankly, clearly unconvinced. "...I may have also been drunk." Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow. "...very drunk, look, Obi, it doesn't matter! I'm grounded! Like a youngling! It's embarrassing!"

"Well, if you didn't act like a youngling, Quin..." A wry, cocky smirk slowly grew on the Kiffar's face, the gold band tattoo across his face crinkling with his delight.

"Oh, Obi-Wan, my poor, innocent dear, a youngling can't do what I do..." Kenobi stared flatly at his fellow Padawan.

"...not just drunk, then?"

"Serifa..." the Kiffar moaned, dragging his hand slowly down his chest, and Kenobi just groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Don't be like that, Kenobi, you haven't seen her! She's smart and beautiful, and the things she can do with the Force!" Quinlan groaned loudly, his eyes closed as he lost himself in the memory. Obi-Wan's jaw dropped.

"Wait, she's a Jedi?!" he gasped, his eyes wide as he watched a wolfish grin spread across his friend's face.

"Well, a Padawan, technically..." He frowned. "Her Master wasn't happy..."

"For the love of the Force, Quinlan, it isn't even safe to confine you to the Temple!"

"I know! Great, isn't it?!" The Kiffar laughed loudly when Obi-Wan put his hands over his face. "Still, I don't like being confined, and Master Tholme has been watching me very closely, so..."

"Serves you right," Obi-Wan muttered. "If you're going to break the rules, at least be discrete about it..."

"Hey, I'm not breaking any rules, Obi!" Quinlan said defensively. "We're allowed to drink, and the only Padawan in the entire Order that is completely sexless is you."

"I-I am not!" Obi-Wan countered, a deep, red flush staining his face when the Kiffar grinned, finally realizing his implication. "I-I mean, I'm not the only one!" he backtracked, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth as he stuttered with embarrassment.

"Uh huh, sure..." Quinlan drawled.

"I'm not!" the boy protested again. "Luminara-"

"Luminara," Quinlan interrupted, "doesn't look interested because she only has eyes for older men." He smiled deviously. "I saw her making eyes at Master Soffran in class the other day." He grinned broadly. "A harsh, stern instructor, so difficult to satisfy...no wonder his star student is swooning over him, it's so easy to want to please your teacher..."

"Q-quinlan, stop it!" Obi-Wan gasped, his voice high and tight with tension, a thing that was not lost on the Kiffar, his dark eyes widening with mischievous glee.

"Or better yet..." he said, his voice low and deep and seductive. "How about you. An extended mission protecting a Duchess. Nobility, Obi-Wan! And there she is, helpless, dependent on her strong, handsome Jedi guardian to keep her safe..." The Kiffar moaned loudly, his voice rising in pitch in the closest imitation of a woman he could manage. "Oh, Obi-Wan, how ever shall I thank you for your tireless dedication to my safety..."

"Kriff, Quinlan, why do I even talk to you?!"

"Because you have a burning need to share all your dirty secrets with me!" Quinlan cried gleefully. "You've been away for a while in defense of this girl. So, how is she? You've had lots of time to make a move on her, and I'm sure she has lots to thank you for, so..."

"Quinlan, we've been running for our lives!" Obi-Wan said , his voice raised and irritated, his face dark red as he tried desperately to push down the idea of Satine as Quinlan described her, but it was no good. He swallowed hard when flashes of pale, naked skin and soft, breathless moans ran through his mind, and despite his best efforts, he could feel arousal churning low in his gut with no sign of letting up. "Every single day, we're living hand to mouth and we have no idea if we'll survive to see another day!"

"Mm, sounds romantic..." Quinlan frowned when Kenobi averted his eyes and bit down on his lip. "Hold on...there something wrong with this Duchess? She old?" He gasped, "Oh no, is she ugly, is that the problem?!" Obi-Wan shook his head.

"No, she's young, my age..." he whimpered, and Quinlan leaned in, his head tilted to the side as he struggled for understanding. "Smart, passionate, and so, so beautiful..."

"Damn..." Quinlan whistled. "You are getting some of that, aren't you? It's about time, Obi-Wan, I keep telling you." Kenobi said nothing, simply held his breath, his already flushed face turning a deeper shade of red. "Like I said before you left, you're going to get sucked off every night..." Kenobi remained silent. "...you are, aren't you?"

"N-no..." Obi-Wan said, avoiding eye contact and shaking his head. "I can't..."

"You can't?" Quinlan said in disbelief. "Of course you can! I've seen you get aroused, Obi, you can get it up! And the Code doesn't forbid us from having sex, we just can't-" Hard blue eyes glared pointedly at the Kiffar, his words catching in his throat as he understood. "Oh...oh..."

"Y-yeah..."

"Damn, Obi..." Quinlan whispered, leaning in toward his friend, his usual carefree expression gone and replaced with genuine concern. "How did this happen...and to you of all people, you're so careful, so guarded!"

"You haven't met this girl, Quinlan..."

"Shit..." Quinlan ran his hand through his hair and absently tied it up behind him as he thought. "Have you told Master Qui-Gon?"

"Are you kidding me?" Obi-Wan said, laughing nervously and tugging on his braid. "I can't tell Master Qui-Gon, about this, not after what happened with Master Tahl..." Obi-Wan stared at his feet, slowly running his braid through his hands. "He's already worried about me because of what happened to him. I am supposed to be better than this...h-how am I supposed to tell him that his fears are well founded..." He shook his head. "He's already talked to me several times about it, if he knew..."

"Can't handle disappointing your Master like that?" Quinlan asked without a touch of his customary teasing, and Obi-Wan shook his head.

"It isn't that. I fear that I will become his focus, and it will impact the mission. We can't afford distractions if we want to keep her safe, and I won't allow myself to become a distraction to Master Qui-Gon."

"Never let it be said you aren't a good Jedi, Obi-Wan..." Quinlan said, a slight smile on his lips. "Selfless, dedicated student, committed absolutely to the mission..." He gave his friend a hard glare. "But what about you, Obi-Wan? They aren't the only ones that matter, you-"

"My affections for Satine would cause a great deal of problems if acted upon," Kenobi said swiftly. "Not to say anything of it breaking the Code, Quinlan."

"Satine, huh?" Quinlan mused, a slow, sly grin on his face. "I like the way if feels to say it. The perfect name to be whispered when you're breathless."

"Quinlan..." Obi-Wan warned, color rising to his face again

"Satine..." Quinlan said in a heady, breathless whisper, and Obi-Wan tore his gaze away from his friend and clamped a hand over his mouth as he moaned, the sudden pulse of desire within him almost crippling him with arousal. "You're a mess, Obi-Wan," the Kiffar said. "Something's gotta give."

"And Force willing, it won't be me, despite your best efforts," Kenobi said between grit teeth, the color rising quickly to his face as he tried to calm himself. "In any case, she has someone she's attracted to. A Mandalorian, someone who can..." His jaw clenched tightly as he ground his teeth together. "Someone who can attend to her desires." Quinlan sighed in irritation and gave his friend a stern look.

"You can't just meditate this away, Obi, you need release! Look at you! I say her name and you're nearly undone!"

"I most certainly am not! I-"

"Satine..." Obi-Wan gasped sharply and shut his eyes, biting down hard on his finger to keep himself silent, Quinlan's low, seductive tones sending a shiver up his spine. When he managed to glance up with half lidded dilated eyes, his heart pounding and his face flushed with desire and burning arousal, the Kiffar had a knowing smirk on his lips.

"Undone," Quinlan slowly drawled. "You're distracted. Unfocused. You better take care of yourself, Kenobi. Do you know how?" He grinned. "Want me to teach you? It's easy."

"I don't know why I even talk to you..." Obi-Wan growled, his eyes flicking to look behind him when he heard an echoing tapping in the ship, and he reached through the Force and frowned when he sensed another on the ship. "I need to go, Quin, someone's here."

"Oh yeah?" the Kiffar asked deviously. "Isn't a bit late there? Someone come to tend to your desires?"

"Goodnight, Quinlan," Obi-Wan growled as the Kiffar began laughing.

"Wear them out, Kenobi! May the Force be with you!"

With a roll of his eyes, Obi-Wan shut off the com, quickly checking the readings from the call to make certain the encryptions were working properly, his breathing slow and even as he attempted to calm himself, the Jedi Code on his lips in an effort to clear his mind from the heedless, lustful thoughts that plagued him. It was working, as it always did, but it was slow going. Still he could feel desire sitting heavy in his stomach, a slow, beating pulse sending tremors of pleasure through him that threatened to stir him to arousal. It was a frustrating, shameful thing to be thinking of Satine in such a way. She was his charge, trusted by him by the Jedi Council to protect, not defile, and still, he couldn't help but think of her melodious voice husky and breathless as she moaned her pleasure, the look of her beautiful, angular face as ecstacy overwhelmed her, the feel of her pale, smooth skin hot against his as they moved together...

Quinlan may have been right. He was distracted.

"Working late, Jedi?" He knew there was another on the ship, but still he jumped from his seat and quickly turned to meet the amused, sultry face of Veela Ordo, her green and black armor light and closely hugging the curves of her body, and Obi-Wan couldn't help his eyes from roaming over her, catching himself doing so a moment too late, and he closed his eyes and bowed. It hadn't passed by her notice either.

"My lady..." Obi-Wan muttered, his gaze rising as he felt her draw closer to him, a wicked look in her piercing green eyes that sent a shiver up his spine. "How can I serve you..."

"Oh, I could think of a few ways, sweet thing..." the Mandalorian said, her voice low and seductive as she reached up and ran a strong, firm hand along his jaw, her fingers coming to rest under his chin to direct his gaze at her. A sly, sultry smile touched her lips when she looked into the Jedi's eyes and found the bright blue of his eyes barely visible around the expanded black of his pupil, a clear indication of arousal. "But I'm not here for that," she drawled, releasing the Jedi and smirking when she heard him softly gasp. "I'm just here to check on you."

The Jedi cleared his throat. "Bit late for a social call, isn't it?"

"Nonsense, you're my guest," she said softly. "It's my duty to care for you, Master Jedi..." Veela dragged the tips of her fingers down his chest, an excited smile on her face when Kenobi's breath hitched, recoiling at her touch and taking a step back.

"I-I'm not a Master," Obi-Wan protested, taking another step back when the Mandalorian sauntered closer.

"And I am no lady..." Veela whispered, watching as the Jedi took another step back, allowing him the chance to take a relieved breath when she didn't move. "Is the ship to your liking?"

"I-it is," Obi-Wan said tightly, his eyes on the ground to keep himself from looking at the beautiful woman, so inviting, so tempting, so... "I thank you for allowing us to have it. It will serve us well in protecting the Duchess."

"I am pleased to hear that. Pretty little Satine deserves the very best." Veela smirked as the Jedi shut his eyes, his carefully regulated breathing shuddering for a moment, the pink flush on his cheeks deepening to red.

"Y-yes, she does..."

"I don't know about the Jedi Knights," Veela said, stepping forward again and looking at Kenobi predatorily as he stepped back, only to find himself pressed against the ship's control console. With the woman in the aisle before him, there was nowhere to go. "But my father does," she continued. "Peerless, dangerous warriors, made so through focus and dedication with no passions to distract them..." The Mandalorian laid her hand on the Jedi's chest. "Is that true?" she asked, her voice low and heavy with promise. "Do you have no passions?"

"T-there is no passion, there is serenity, there is no emotion, there is peace, there is...t-there is..." He couldn't think straight. His mind was thick and hazy when Veela took a step closer to him, her hands resting on his sides and gently, maddingly stroking. He...wanted her, could feel his body so eagerly respond to her touch, despite his best efforts. The Code didn't forbid this. Sexual release was normal, healthy, even, but it was a thing that Obi-Wan had avoided. After his introversion and his shyness, it was guilt that kept him from indulging the desires that he tried so hard to repress. It felt...wrong, not just to submit to the cravings of the flesh when a Jedi was to be a master of self-control, but to use another just to chase relief. It was selfish, and it wasn't right to use people in such a way when the act was ultimately meaningless, when the other partner was nothing other than an object to expel sexual tension.

But Veela wanted it. She had come to him, she had initiated this. Perhaps she wanted something else. Perhaps she was just using him, but...that was the best a Jedi could expect from a sexual partner. Mutual use with no attachments, a meaningless act that would end as soon as they had both achieved the satisfaction they sought. This was allowed...and being with Satine was not.

"No passions, then?" Veela whispered, her hands running down his sides as she pressed against him, an excited smile on her face when the Jedi gasped and swallowed hard. "Let's see if we can find them, shall we?" she asked, her hand drifting to the lightsaber on his belt and unclipping it, the blue eyes suddenly clear and nervous as he watched with rapt attention as she took the hilt and tossed it on to the copilot's chair. With a coy smirk, she placed both hands on his chest and leaned up to kiss him, only to have the Jedi gasp and turn his head away. Undaunted, Veela grabbed the thin braid hanging behind his ear and pulled it, exposing his neck and she quickly pressed her lips to the pale flesh, the Jedi's surprised gasps becoming soft, breathless moans as the Mandalorian gently nipped and sucked at his soft skin.

Obi-Wan had no idea what to do, so he did nothing, his eyes closed and his jaw slack as his breaths came in soft panting between his moans, his hands tightly bracing himself against the console behind him. This was Quinlan's fault! If he hadn't been open and exposed, if they hadn't discussed Satine, if the lustful Kiffar hadn't proven his point by stoking Kenobi's own desires with the breathless moans of the Duchess' name...he wouldn't have been struggling so hard for balance now, he wouldn't have been left on the edge of arousal just before the seductress had wandered in, leaving him eager, willing prey for fiery Mandalorian passions...

"Oh, there it is..." Veela said teasingly, pressing herself closer and palming the Jedi's quickly growing arousal, the younger teen groaning loudly from the contact. "When are Jedi considered men?" she asked, taking his hands in her own and placing them on her chest, and Kenobi swallowed hard, whimpering softly when she took her hands off his, leaving him to gently, hesitantly pet on his own. He couldn't speak. He couldn't think. A crooked grin spread across her face. "Are you a man, little Jedi?"

"Y-yes..." Obi-Wan whispered, his voice thick with desire, and with a grin, Veela placed her hand on the Jedi's shoulder and turned him around and insistently pressed him back into the pilot's seat. Hands on his knees, Veela lowered herself to kneel between his legs, pressing her lips to the inside of the moaning Jedi's thighs.

"Here among the Mandalorians," she said between kisses to the Jedi's leg and the quickly growing bulge in his pants, "we claim each ship we own by bringing someone on board and taking them in every way we can think of." She slowly, languidly traced a hand in circles over the moaning Jedi's arousal, smirking as she kissed his stomach, his blue eyes fixed on the woman and watching her hungrily. "As many times as we can..." Her hands moved up to his belt and slowly began to undo it. "You're the pilot, yes?"

"Y-yes..." he said absently, and Veela smirked as she pulled aside his robe and slipped her hand under the thin cloth of his tunic, the Jedi hissing as her fingers touched the hard muscles of his abdomen.

"That makes this your ship," she sweetly explained. "And since you're among the Mandalorians, you should follow our customs..."

It was the best idea Obi-Wan had ever heard, and lacking the ability to speak, he slipped a hand into her hair, his breathing growing faster when the woman took the gesture as the encouragement it was intended as and she returned to her attentions, her hands continuing to pet and stroke as they wandered, kissing and licking the lean muscles just above the waist of his pants.

She was...beautiful. Alluring and seductive, a temptress, not yet out of her teenage years, but fully a woman. She was, in many ways, the opposite of Satine. Veela's skin was tanned and tough, her hair a lustrous jet black, her eyes a deep green, the line of her cheeks smooth and round. Satine, by comparison, was a stunning pale blond, her hair soft and smooth like woven white gold, her eyes a crystal blue, light and clear as the beauty of the kyber in his lightsaber, her cheekbones high and sharp and angular, her skin pale and smooth. Veela had the body of a woman, her hips curving in all the right ways, her breasts ample, he imagined, based on the shape of her armor's chest piece, and it was difficult to ignore her rounded backside when she wiggled it in open invitation as she circled his navel with her tongue.

Satine was...all long, lanky arms and legs, all early teenage gauntness, hopelessly skinny with thin, barely rounded hips and breasts that Obi-Wan had taken great care to not notice.

And it was all he wanted.

When Veela started to undo his pants, Obi-Wan grabbed her wrist in a tight grasp, preventing her from continuing, and she looked up with confusion at his cold, hard stare. "Stop," Obi-Wan said, his voice soft but commanding, and Veela's mouth parted as her jaw went slack.

"...excuse me?"

"No more," Kenobi said firmly. "I...don't want this. Not here. Not with you."

"Your body says otherwise, Jedi," Veela growled, grabbing the hard length of his arousal through the crotch of his pants, and faster than she could see, Obi-Wan's hand shot out and grabbed her other wrist, pulling both hands away from him.

"No more," Kenobi growled, this time in warning that the Mandalorian couldn't ignore. When Kenobi released her wrists, her eyes shot between the Jedi's face, his eyes closed and face drawn in concentration, and the physical proof of his need to bury within a woman.

"...you're just going to stop?!" she cried in frustration when she realized that her needs wouldn't be met either. The Jedi opened his eyes and stared at her with a cold, dispassionate gaze. "You can't just stop, nobody just stops!" Kenobi remained unmoved, his chest rising and falling rapidly in his arousal, his face flushed, but he made no move to touch her. "You Jedi are cold, truly without passion."

"Yes..." Obi-Wan said softly. "I am flattered by your interest, though. You have taught me a great deal about myself." He pointed to the back of the cockpit. "You know the way out."

With a vicious sneer, Veela rose and glared coldly at the Jedi, her eyes drifting to the lightsaber on the copilot's seat, and the moment her gaze landed upon it, it flew from the seat and into the Jedi's grasp. When their eyes met, Veela felt as though he were looking right through her, saw into her soul, saw everything she had intended, both that night and after, both for the Jedi and th Duchess. It was far more unsettling than she imagined it would be. A focused Jedi was fearsome.

"Very well..." the Mandalorian said, slowly backing up toward the door, a sly smirk on her lips. "It's a shame we could not tangle. I think you would have found me more pleasurable than the Duchess." She scoffed. "Or your Master..."

"Oh, I sincerely doubt that, Lady Ordo." With a mocking smirk, the Mandalorian bowed.

"I look forward to serving beside you in defense of the Duchess, Jedi. As does my brother. He is...deeply passionate about her safety..."

"I'm sure he is..." With a final glare in Kenobi's direction, Veela Ordo left the cockpit, and Obi-Wan sat in silence, his breath held as he listened to the sound of her walking through the ship, felt her presence, irritated and aroused and seething as it grew more distant. When he was certain she was gone, Obi-Wan rushed to the cabin he decided would be his, threw himself on the bed, and pushed through a healthy layer of shame and disgust to bring himself to desperately needed satisfaction, trying valiantly and failing to banish Satine from his thoughts.

---

Qui-Gon sat in the large, comfortable armchair, his cheek resting on his hand as he stared, bored and unamused, at the two teens on the couch as they sat close and whispered, giggling and touching and flirting in a way that just bordered on what Qui–Gon considered appropriate. He had stopped them twice, much to their annoyance, once when Edric's hand crept up much too high on Satine's leg, and once again when Satine had insisted that the man remove his armor with all due haste. After that, they had been a bit more cautious and aware of the company they kept, gazes always drifting over to the stern Jedi Master when they thought they may be pushing the line, and a deep frown or a raised eyebrow was all the answer they needed to know he was displeased.

The bottle of Edric's fine liquor sat on the table empty, the two glasses long since drained. Satine wasn't drunk, Qui-Gon observed as the evening went on. She was very drunk. Not to the point of being in danger of sickness, but her inhibitions were nearly completely gone. Qui-Gon had tried to stop her, and did after her third glass, the Duchess stubbornly refusing to listen to his advice to not drink at all. Mandalorians, she had informed him, were introduced to alcohol early, and she had been practically raised on the stuff. A few glasses would do her no harm.

It had been either a very long time since she had been drinking, or else puberty had made her a lightweight, because Duchess Satine Kryze was intoxicated ten minutes after she had finished her first glass, and by then, she was halfway through her third. It was too late to stop her, so Qui-Gon had settled down in the armchair for an evening of babysitting drunk teenagers, his payment for having a Padawan that never misbehaved. All the while, he looked at Edric, the man not nearly so drunk as the Duchess, despite having consumed more than twice as much, Dooku's words never leaving him for a moment. Edric looked amicable enough, acted well enough with the Duchess, and Qui-Gon could feel real attraction between the two, nothing faked or insincere, just genuine teenage hormones creating genuine desire.

But Qui-Gon knew something was up. Bounty hunters. He frowned as he looked at the pair, the Duchess' hand lingering perhaps a little too long on the man's chest. Clan Ordo was up to something, that much was clear, though what it was still eluded him. What purpose could they have had for hiding the fact that bounty hunters had been sent after them? He had asked Edric about such a thing, but the boy simply dismissed the notion, which meant one of three things. He was ignorant of the bounty hunters, and the deception belonged to his sister alone, he was an idiot, or something was up, and he was lying in order to hide important information.

"And then," Satine drawled, leaning in closer to Edric, her hand planted firmly on his chest for support, "we attacked the outpost and, and we had to hold there until Obi-Wan managed to steal a ship!" She swayed slightly where she sat, softly giggling to herself for a moment and stroking the green armor on the man's chest. "We had to wait forever..."

"Leave it to a Jedi to keep a lady waiting..." Edric said, his voice low to keep out of earshot of the Jedi aster in the room, but he didn't look up to see if the man had heard. He somehow knew he did.

"I know!" Satine said with great emphasis as she swung her leg up and laid it in Edric's lap. "I even got shot!" She pointed to her leg. "There, see?" With a slight, cocky smirk on his lips, Edric looked at Satine's flushed, beautiful face and didn't once break eye contact as he rolled up the cuff of her pants, the Duchess gasping softly, her breath becoming uneven as the handsome Mandalorian took her thin leg in his hands and gingerly touched the faint traces of plasma burns on her otherwise flawless skin, soon to be faded completely due to regular bacta treatments.

"My poor Satine..." Edric said softly, smiling as he kissed the scar on her calf, the Duchess moaning softly. "You need a real man to protect you..."

"Y-yes..." Both teens jumped when Qui-Gon loudly cleared his throat, and Edric shot the Jedi a nervous look when he saw how intensely the man was glaring at him, how the lightsaber at his hip was left intentionally in plain sight. He wondered how much Mando'a the Jedi could understand, if any at all. He made no indication of comprehension, but he knew better than to make assumptions. The Jedi weren't known for being stupid.

"The war will be over soon enough, with any luck," Edric said, returning his attentions to Satine and slowly letting go of her leg. "Clan Ordo is in the best position to seize the throne of Mandalore. We have the greatest force, the Death Watch that holds Sundari is tattered and fractured..." A slight smirk touched his lips as he looked at the girl, his eyes roving over her as she wriggled and swayed on her seat, completely drunk and hopelessly aroused, and Edric mentally cursed. Had the Jedi not been there, this conversation would be very different. "You and I, Satine...we will rule together..."

"W-we will?" she asked, breathless and whimpering when his fingers slowly drifted down her side.

"Mmm..." His hand drifted lower, and the girl moaned softly, her hips rolling slightly in his grasp as she ached for contact. "You will give us what we need to take Sundari, beautiful Satine..." With a low, lustful whimper, the Duchess crawled into Edric's lap, her long fingers threading through his hair, her usually clear blue eyes clouded and hazy with liquor and lust and-

"That's enough," Qui-Gon commanded from his chair, a needy whine of frustration torn from Satine as she looked over her shoulder and glared at the Jedi, the girl gasping softly when Edric's large, strong hand grabbed her backside and drew her closer to him, a triumphant smirk on his face.

"You're supposed to protect me, Qui-Gon, not keep me from doing what I want!" Satine snapped, the Jedi arching an eyebrow in response.

"Oh? And what do you suppose I should do when what you want is exactly what you need to be protected from?"

"I thought you were supposed to keep her alive," Edric drawled, his fingers moving toward the junction between her legs, and the Duchess moaned loudly at the light, teasing contact, her back arching as she pressed back into his touch. "I didn't think you were here to protect her from the natural course of her passions..."

"The terms of the agreement were very vague," Qui-Gon said as he removed himself from his chair and raising his hand, and with a sharp squeak of surprise, Satine was lifted off Edric, held gently in the arms of the Force, and deposited gently into Qui-Gon's vacant chair. "But," the Jedi said, smirking at the shocked, outraged look on the Mandalorian warrior's face, "given that her judgement is severely impaired, I find it is my duty to protect her from herself."

"I do not need a Jedi telling me what I do and do not want!" Satine cried, leaping up from the chair and immediately finding her legs unsteady, and she tumbled drunkenly back into the seat. "I want this, Qui-Gon..." she muttered. "I do, everything in me aches for it..."

"I am certain you do, Duchess," Qui-Gon said quickly. "And tomorrow when your head is clear, you can still make this decision."

"Are all Jedi like this?" Edric growled, groaning with effort as he stood as well and moved to stand before the Jedi Master. "Stiff, passionless, cold, ruining everyone's fun..."

"If by ruining fun, you mean introducing logic and good decision making, than yes, that is exactly what the Jedi do."

"You should see his student..." Satine drawled from the seat, the girl draped invitingly over the armrests, and with a growl of desire, Edric dragged her out of the seat and pulled her against him, the Duchess giggling drunkenly as her head rested against the man's strong, broad chest, the armor he wore doing little to conceal how thick the muscles were, so unlike her thin, lanky Jedi protector. "Obi-Wan..." she drawled slowly, softly giggling as she heard how breathy the name sounded when she said it. "I've never met anyone so cold and passionless..."

"I agree..." Edric said, pulling her away from the wary, attentive Qui-Gon. "It was like he had no soul in him at all. And what's more, he's a child. Too thin to be a warrior."

"That's because he isn't a warrior..." Satine said, her voice wavering and becoming distant. "Obi-Wan is...a protector."

"A protector that got you stranded on a Death Watch world for a month, by the way you tell it," Edric sneered, switching back to Mando'a and smirking when the Jedi's eyes narrowed, clearly unable to understand the harsh language. "He is unfit to serve as guard to you. I can at least pilot a ship."

"W-well..." Satine's lips pressed together in a thin line as she struggled to think through the haze in her mind. "His flying got us off the planet."

"A correction of a mistake doesn't excuse that the mistake was made to begin with," Edric said firmly.

"M-maybe..."

"You need someone at your side that will slay your enemies," the warrior said, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it, the Duchess' eyes downcast, her breathing a mix of soft moans and panting as she swayed on legs that rebelled against standing, the alcohol and arousal in her blood making her knees weak. "Does your little Jedi do that for you?" Satine shook her head.

"N-no...Obi-Wan is adverse to killing, he..." She took in a sharp breath and closed her eyes, leaning her head against the armored chest as Edric pulled her close. "Killing makes him ill..." Edric scoffed.

"Some great warrior the Republic sent you. Such a man can never protect you."

"B-but he does," she whimpered. "He won't kill, if he can avoid it, but he protects me. H-he was shot twice for me, his blood has been spilt in my defense, he-"

"Will die quickly," Edric finished. "Such a waste. A lightsaber, a deadly weapon in the hands of a man too weak to use it." His eyes drifted to the lightsaber at Qui-Gon's waist, greed and desire on his face. "If I had such a weapon, I would put it to good use. Nobody would stand before me."

"...maybe that's why you don't have one," Satine said, her voice cold and distant and clear despite the arousal and alcohol that impaired her. She stood up taller, wavering slightly, but her feet were firmly planted. "Obi-Wan may not be...strong, or fearless, or passionate. He's not a warrior, or a soldier. He's too thin, too pale, too timid, too shy for a boy his age. His lack of confidence, his blank stares, his stupid braid, it's infuriating, all of it, all of him!" Satine met Edric's gaze, her blue eyes cold and narrowed in fierce conviction. "But he is brave, and noble and good. He's smart and he's sweet and he's selfless. He may not be a warrior, or a fighter, but he is a protector, and only draws his weapon in defense of others, will sacrifice himself to protect the weak and the helpless, and if the Mandalorians were more like him, we wouldn't be in this stupid, pointless war!"

There was silence between them, long and heavy and fraught with the tension of passion. The Duchess stood, her breathing heavy, soft whimpers in her throat as she struggled with the arousal heavy within her, pulsing and rising as new waves of desire spiked through her. She closed her eyes, her hand to her forehead as she felt her heated skin, her whimpers becoming pleasured gasps and moans she tried desperately to repress, but her intoxication kept her from it, her mind racing with newly surging lust and desire she only felt more keenly when Edric reached out and grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her clouded eyes to meet the green intensity of his gaze.

"You have feelings for this Jedi..." Edric gasped, his voice accusatory, his face almost betrayed before it hardened. "Is that how it is, Satine? Did this Jedi defile you?" Whimpering, the Duchess closed her eyes and shivered, the soldier grabbing her hips and pulling her against him as she moaned pitifully. Qui-Gon watched, his eyes narrowed as he cautiously observed the scene before him, unwilling to interfere as he silently gathered information, reading the Mandalorian's intent through the Force as he became less guarded, showing more of his true colors, and discretely, Qui-Gon tapped a button on the comlink on his wrist as he continued to silently observe.

"N-no!" Satine sputtered as she looked at the much taller man. "No, Edric, he's-"

"Because you are nothing to him..." he growled, running his thumb over her lips and grinning wolfishly when her mouth parted slightly in a breathless, wanting moan, and before she could struggle for control over the desire pooling within her, he slipped the tip of his thumb past her lips, the girl whimpering as she closed her mouth around the digit and involuntarily began to lazily suck on it. Edric grinned as he looked at her, the red flush on her face growing darker as the pupils of her bright blue eyes rapidly expanded in furious arousal. With a growl of warning, the Jedi stepped forward.

"Satine..."

"All you will ever be to the Jedi, Satine," Edric drawled as he gently encouraged the lust-soaked girl's continued loss of control, "is a pleasure slave." He lifted her head up and forced her to look at him, his thumb still tantalizingly in her mouth. "You would never be anything more than that. No passion, no feeling with the Jedi makes every time you tumble with them meaningless, no better than any number of the galaxy's stupid sluts."

"That is enough!" Qui-Gon snapped when the man didn't step away, and with a vicious sneer, Edric looked at the Jedi, his breath catching in his throat when he saw the Master's hand on his lightsaber. "No more. The Duchess is unable to consent to any of this, and I won't allow you to take advantage of her for a moment longer." Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps I cannot protect her from bad decisions, or getting drunk with fools, but I believe that when I took on the task of protecting her, it included shielding her from rape."

"Wait, what?!" Edric snapped. "I'm not raping anyone, she wants this!"

"Be that as it may, she is too intoxicated to make an informed decision, and certainly too drunk to know what she wants. You've had your fun, Edric Ordo. Now leave." The warrior sneered as he looked at the Jedi with disdain and drew the softly moaning girl against him, the Duchess' hands petting at his stomach and chest in her frantic need.

"Accept that this is going to happen, Jedi. What are you going to do about it?" His smug smirk dropped off his face immediately when a snapping hiss filled the air, followed by the thrumming and the glow of green plasma as Qui-Gon ignited his lightsaber, a slight, challenging smile on the Jedi's otherwise stern, cold face.

"Sometimes," Qui-Gon drawled, "the Jedi Code gets in the way of our mission. My student may not hurt you, but I will."

"...I'll just say goodnight, then," Edric said nervously, swallowing hard, and the Jedi nodded, but very notably did not switch off his lightsaber.

"A wise decision," Qui-Gon said, his lightsaber moving with a soft thrum in the air as he took a step back to allow them some space. "You have one minute."

"Satine..." Edric said softly, his fingers touching her sharp, angular cheek, her wavering focus drifting from the glow of the lightsaber to the handsome face of the warrior. "You need someone with passion, understand? A real man that will desire you with everything in him, not some cold, soulless Jedi. You want that, yes?" he asked when the girl shivered with another aching wave of desire. "You need someone that can properly pleasure you, my fiery Mandalorian..."

"Y-yes..." the Duchess whimpered, her breathing becoming helpless panting as Edric stroked back her hair and leaned down to claim her lips with his own. He was tall, dark, handsome, strong and accomplished, a warrior of renown, the Mandalorian ideal. And his wasn't the one running through her mind, making her feel lightheaded and warm. Her heart suddenly pounding, Satine closed her eyes, and turned her face away, the warrior meeting her pale cheek instead, her shoulders shaking with a swell of sudden emotion. Qui-Gon stepped beside the Duchess, his free hand taking the girl by the shoulders and drawing her against him, and Edric sneered in contempt.

"You must choose sooner or later, Satine," he growled. "You can have something deep and meaningful and passionate with one of your own, or you could be some Jedi whore and mean nothing." The girl's hand tightened in Qui-Gon's robes, and she buried her face against his chest, her thin frame trembling with the painful ache of arousal as she whimpered. Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed as he looked at the man and pointed his lightsaber toward his chest.

"Time's up. Leave." With a final glare at the Jedi, Edric left, the door hissing closed behind him, and Qui-Gon deactivated his lightsaber and the comlink with a sigh. Satine clung tightly to him, her body tense and hot and shaking, her hips slowly rolling in search of contact to ease the ache of arousal she felt, and the Master took the girl to her bed, peeled her off of him, and set the shivering girl upon it.

"I've never been this intoxicated before..." she muttered, her voice ever so slightly slurring, and Qui-Gon smiled softly as he draped a blanket over her shoulders. "I drank all the time when I was younger with my father and brother, I never felt like this..."

"I'm certain your father and brother weren't trying to get you so intoxicated that taking advantage of you would be easy," Qui-Gon said, picking up the bottle on the table and examining it. "I wonder if there is anything in this that acts as an aphrodisiac, or if your emotional state going into this evening was simply a perfect storm..."

"...I feel so stupid..." she whimpered, curling up with the blanket and her hands tightly clasping her arms to keep her hands from wandering, With a sigh, Qui-Gon sat on the edge of the bed and laid his hand on her feverish head, the Duchess gasping softly from the contact and the new heat that rushed through her from the Jedi, not the blazing fire of passion that had sunk its claws deep within her, but something much more soothing, washing over her like a gentle stream and easing some of the haze from her mind.

"All of us are young and stupid at some point, Satine. Even Duchesses." She looked up at him with wide, inquisitive eyes.

"Even Jedi?" she asked in barely a whisper, and the Master slowly nodded.

"Yes, even Jedi."

"...I wonder what Obi-Wan is doing..." she whispered, curling up in the blanket and grabbing the Jedi's robes tightly, the Master laying his hand on top of hers and feeling the slight tremble in them as she struggled to ride out the churning arousal inside her.

"Minding the ship, most like," Qui-Gon said calmly. "When I removed you from his custody, he had a great deal of upgrades he wanted to instal. I believe he said something about taking components out of other ships when the hangar emptied out for the evening." Satine's nose wrinkled in distaste before she laughed softly.

"He's terribly clever, isn't he?"

"Or in this case, a terrible thief." She gasped softly, her eyes shut tightly as she quietly moaned into the blanket.

"I-I wish he was here..." she whispered, her hand running along Qui-Gon's thigh as she let go of him, her fingers lightly running down her chest before the Master quickly took her wrist to stop her.

"I'm glad he isn't," Qui-Gon muttered. "I think he would have literally had a brain hemorrhage." Satine chuckled drunkenly for a moment, wriggling on the bed in a lazy attempt to free her hands.

"We should go see him..." she drawled slowly, giggling maniacally for a moment as she pressed her feet to the mattress and arched her hips off the bed. "Obi-Wan..."

"You are going to feel so stupid tomorrow, Duchess..." Qui-Gon sighed as he released the girl's wrists and stood, checking around the room to make certain it was secure as the intoxicated Satine wiggled on the bed in a lustful haze, her hands running lazily over her body as she sought to relieve the pulsating, maddening ache she felt. Confirming that the room was safe, Qui-Gon leaned over the Duchess, brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead. She gratefully appeared too drunk to do little more than stay in bed which, on reflection, had probably been the intent. The Jedi sighed when she reached up and twirled a lock of his hair around a long finger, a desperate and frightened look on her face.

"Don't go..." she whispered, her voice trembling with the confusing mess of her emotions, desire and fear and depression and uncertainty meeting in a chaotic clash within her, everything enhanced by her lowered inhibitions. "Please..."

"I'm not going anywhere, Duchess," Qui-Gon calmly reassured her. "But I feel you may need some time alone. I'll be just outside." She bit her lip and nodded as she looked away, her eyes closed as she held her breath in another failed attempt to control herself.

"...maybe we should leave tomorrow," Satine said softly as the Jedi made his way to the door.

"A wise decision, Duchess. We'll leave as soon as Obi-Wan is ready." Without another word, Qui-Gon left the room, leaving the young Duchess to attend to herself while he meditated on the best course of action and prayed that her sudden interest in his student was simply the result of arousal and alcohol. In the morning, sense would prevail.

---

Satine and Qui-Gon stood in the hangar the next morning after a large, hearty breakfast made specifically to ease the Duchess' mild hangover, staring in awe at the ship that Obi-Wan had been working on, the Padawan's pants rolled up and wearing only his thin tunic as he made adjustments to the engine on the left wing. Gone was the black and green of Clan Ordo, the hull and wings painted chrome silver and blue, the external thrusters and sublight engines having undergone several upgrades since they had seen it last. It was...impressive, sleek and beautiful, the slight adjustments making it seem like an entirely different ship, and even Satine found herself approving.

"Been busy, my Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked softly when the teen noticed them and quickly approached, a light, easy smile on his face and a faint flush on his cheeks, calm and relaxed in a way the Master hadn't seen him in ever. He frowned as he watched his student bow and gently greet the Duchess, which she cordially responded to. This show of emotion, as slight as it was, bespoke of an openness that Obi-Wan rarely showed. Something had changed in him, and that something became very obvious when Qui-Gon spotted the bruise-like mark on the teenager's neck, and despite himself, he couldn't keep a wry smirk off his lips.

That sneaky devil...

"I couldn't sleep," Obi-Wan said, pointing back at the ship. "I thought I'd get some work done since I was up anyway."

"You don't say..."

"She's beautiful, Obi-Wan!" Satine said, a wide smile on her face for a moment until she saw the look on Kenobi's face. It looked almost adoring. Her heart wouldn't stop fluttering. She frowned, turning her nose up in the air. "At least there is something you're good at, Jedi. I hope you didn't mess with the engines, I want the ship to fly, not just stand as a piece of art."

"My Duchess is ever gracious," Obi-Wan drawled with a roll of his eyes. "I had thought that a beautiful exterior was enough for you. It seems to be what you're drawn to." With a sharp, outraged gasp, Satine placed her hand on the Jedi's chest and shoved him back.

"You uncultured, uncivilized brute!" she snapped, glaring furiously at the smug, self-satisfied Padawan. "What would you know of beauty?! You are not moved by anything, you soulless beast!" She stormed toward the ship, stopped, and quickly reeled on Kenobi. "Is there anyone on the ship?" He shook his head, and her eyes narrowed almost dangerously. "I'm going to go look at my ship. I'm not to be disturbed, especially by you!"

"Please do, Duchess," Obi-Wan said, bowing slightly when the girl huffed and turned from him. "And don't touch anything!" One very rude gesture later, Satine had disappeared up the boarding ramp, the Jedi standing in silence, and with a heavy sigh, Qui-Gon grabbed hold of Kenobi's braid and pulled hard, the Padawan sharply hissing as he was yanked off balance.

"What did I say about vexing the Duchess?" Qui-Gon said evenly, the faintest hint of irritation within the Force, and Obi-Wan frowned, his braid in his hand, stroking it as though it was wounded.

"I apologize, Master, but it's just so easy." He smiled as he looked back at the ship. "She did start it this time, Master, and I do so enjoy seeing her frustrated..."

"Hmm..." Qui-Gon flicked the mark on Obi-Wan's neck, the Padawan flinching and swiftly bringing a hand up to rub the spot, irritated at first and quickly turning a fierce shade of red when he realized what his Master was looking at. "Obi-Wan. Dear and faithful student. What is that."

"...I dunno..." Qui-Gon smacked the Padawan on the back of the head with an open hand, and the teen winced as he stumbled forward, looking over his shoulder at his Master with considerable apprehension and anxiety. "Master, um..." Qui-Gon cocked an eyebrow, and with a heavy sigh, Obi-Wan shuffled to stand before him. "Master," he began in a whisper, looking around to make certain nobody was around, "last night, Veela Ordo came to the ship while I was working on it. I just finished testing the com, we have it perfectly encrypted!" he said excitedly. "I called Quinlan, we-"

"Obi-Wan, focus," Qui-Gon said softly as he rolled his eyes, the Padawan quickly biting his lip and nodding. If Quinlan was involved, this couldn't be good. Nearly every time his perfect Padawan had gotten himself into trouble, it had been started by Quinlan Vos.

"She came to me, Master," Kenobi continued. "To check on me, she said, but she actually-"

"Oh, for the love of the Force, Obi-Wan Kenobi!"

"I didn't do anything, Master, I swear it!" the Padawan said frantically, wincing when he realized how loud his voice sounded in the spacious hangar. "She tried to seduce me!" he hissed, much quieter this time. "I was already...struggling, and when she came in, she noticed it immediately and started trying to...w-well...Master, she was on her knees between my legs!"

"...and you resisted her?!" Kenobi bit his lip and nodded, averting his eyes and rubbing at the mark on his neck before his fingers drifted to grab at his braid. Qui-Gon whistled, long and low and very impressed. "Damn, Obi-Wan..."

"So...not mad?" Obi-Wan asked sheepishly, a nervous smile on his face. The Master shook his head.

"Not mad," he confirmed. "I wouldn't have been mad if you did take her to bed." He paused, frowning when the Padawan looked at him in disbelief. "In this case, I would have seriously questioned your judgement, but...well, you have a man's needs. It's natural to want to fulfill them." Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed as he leaned down to his student and took his comlink off his wrist, offering it to Kenobi. "No, we have bigger problems. The Ordo siblings appear to be in cahoots, because Edric tried to seduce Satine last night." Kenobi tensed, his breath catching in his throat. "You're instincts, as always, were spot on. They're up to something."

"He was unsuccessful, I take it?" he asked cautiously, taking the comlink into his hands, and the Padawan breathed a sigh of relief when the Jedi slightly nodded. "What's this?"

"Part of the conversation between Satine and Edric after things became a bit tense between them. I thought it might be important, but my Mando'a is rusty, and the Ordos speak in a rather heavy accent." Qui-Gon put his hand over Obi-Wan's when the teen made to play back the recording. "You might...not like what you hear on here. Satine wasn't in her right mind. It may be difficult to listen to for a number of reasons."

"...do we need to know?"

"I feel it may help our mission, yes." Biting his lip and nodding, Obi-Wan adjusted the settings and played the recording back, the volume low enough for only them to hear. Qui-Gon watched his student carefully as a mess of quick emotions flashed through the Force, anger, desire, nervousness, a mounting feeling of apprehension growing within the young Padawan. When the recording was over, he listened to it again, the emotion gone and replaced with the cool, clear head that Qui-Gon had become so accustomed to.

"Poor Satine..." Obi-Wan said softly, his hand gripping the comlink tighter. "Nobody should ever be spoken to like that..."

"That bad?" Qui-Gon asked, and the Padawan nodded tightly, his lips tightly pressed together.

"Savage, uncivilized, awful oaf. Brainless, stupid, son of a-"

"Focus, Obi-Wan..."

"What could she possibly have seen in him..." Obi-Wan asked under his breath to nobody in particular, and for just a moment, Qui-Gon could feel his student's deep affection for the Duchess they protected, so different than it had been only days before. There was no hurt within him, no jealousy, just...affection, simple and private, a soft, warm thing meant only for him. It was a selfless thing, so unlike what Qui-Gon had feared. Perhaps Dooku had been right.

"Obi-Wan..." the Master said gently, and the Padawan quickly looked up, his eyes focused and intense.

"You're right, there's something here," Obi-Wan whispered. "He's trying to drive a wedge between us and her." Obi-Wan frowned, looking up at his Master with apprehension. "We are here in defense of the Duchess. If they were her allies, they would want to keep us united, not drive us apart."

"My thoughts exactly. Hatred of the Jedi is not the way of the New Mandalorians. That is a very traditional stance. Not exactly the thing you'd expect to see out of allies of Satine the Reformer."

"We're in danger here, Master," Obi-Wan said, looking back at the nearby ship that Satine had gone to explore. "We need to leave."

"And I managed to convince the Duchess of exactly that last night," Qui-Gon said, a smile on his lips as he looked at his adoring Padawan.

"Damn, Master...you're good." Kenobi smirked. "I can get her to do what I want as well, by the way."

"Oh, can you?" the Master asked, his eyebrow arched, and Obi-Wan met his gaze with a confident and cocky smirk.

"Of course I can. I just need to say I want the exact opposite of the outcome I desire, and she's guaranteed to go against me." Qui-Gon snorted with laughter.

"Can't argue with results, I suppose." Qui-Gon laid his hand on the student's shoulder. "How long before we can leave?" Obi-Wan breathed deep, his eyes running over the ship as he thought. "I won't have everything I want done until tonight, but in a pinch..." He looked at the engine he had been working on, quietly muttering something to himself, one hand absently twirling his braid around his fingers. "I can have the ship flight ready in a couple of hours."

"See that it is. I intend to leave as soon as possible." Obi-Wan nodded.

"Where are we going?"

"Anywhere but here." A small smirk spread across Kenobi's features.

"You know, Zanbar is lovely this time of year..."

"And such a friendly populace," Qui-Gon drawled with a roll of his eyes. "We'll discuss it with Satine once we're in hyperspace. I'm going to take her to get supplies for the ship. Make haste, my student."

"I will, Master." Obi-Wan smiled softly when Qui-Gon laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder and disappeared inside the ship, returning with a very uneasy Satine a moment later. Obi-Wan bowed deeply to her as she left, the two making eye contact for a fleeting moment and flashing small, shy smiles at each other before she turned from him and glued herself to Qui-Gon's side. Kenobi watched them until they were out of sight before he returned to his work, his hands moving swiftly over panels as he made necessary adjustments, through wires as he remade connections and bypassed additional loops in the system to maximize efficiency, and over the screen of his datapad as he commanded systems to begin running tests.

It was silent, focused work, the sort that Obi-Wan had always taken to best, the exact kind that harkened back to his time as a youngling, when he would spend countless hours in the Jedi Temple Hangar, speaking with starship pilots and watching the mechanics, and later trying his hand at making repairs on his own. It was a difficult time, one that was rife with conflict for the young Obi-Wan, one that saw him torn between what he wanted and what he was good at, a time when his future was much more uncertain. He approached the work in a meditative state, the young Padawan feeling almost one with the Force as he dug through consoles and ran diagnostics, a habitual double-check just in case, since he always knew the results of the scans before he ran them.

Time was lost to him, and he wasn't sure how long it had been before Qui-Gon and Satine returned with the first round of their supply run, the Jedi and the Duchess disappearing inside the ship and properly store the supplies before they emerged the Jedi Master leaving to finish up a few things while Satine leaved against the ship's vertically positioned wing and watched Obi-Wan work, a small, secretive smile on her face. Despite his focus, Obi-Wan was made clearly aware of her presence, and quickly found his attention divided. Nothing had changed, but...everything felt different.

"Are you going to say something?" Obi-Wan said, his voice smooth and even and purposefully keeping his eyes fixed on his work. "Or are you just here to admire the view?" The Duchess stared at him for a moment, her lips pursed indignantly before she understood the implication and flushed fiercely, and feeling the sudden jump in her pulse through the Frce, Obi-Wan tried to repress the smile tugging on the edge of his lips.

"I thought you liked silence,"she said in a tone that would have been harsh had she not looked so demure. "Since we're trying to be fast, I didn't want to distract you, since I know how you need to focus so you don't mess up."

"Mm, your very presence is a distraction, Duchess," Kenobi drawled, smirking when he watched the girl redden considerably. "You don't need to speak for me to feel the emotional mess that is your head space."

"At least I have emotions," she countered, crossing her arms over her chest. "Anyway, I came to watch because it's such a rare thing to see you do something you're actually good at."

"Insult me too much, Duchess, and I'll crash this ship too. You know how easily my pride is wounded." Satine pouted when she saw the small, good natured smile creep across the Jedi's face, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling as well. He was...infectious.

"I was trying to be helpful!"

"If you wanted to be that, you could actually help," Obi-Wan said with a roll of his eyes, holding out a tool and a handful of small electrical components. "Here, you can hold these so my hands are free."

"I am not your servant, Obi-Wan!" the Duchess huffed, but took the things from his hand anyway, coming around to stand beside him and watching with rapt attention as his deft hands quickly worked within the engine, his eyes intense, his face drawn in concentration. "If you stop and think about it, you're actually my servant." The Jedi's lips twitched ever so slightly, his concentration shattering as he looked at her from the corner of his eye.

"Ever your servant, Duchess," he said, holding out his hand for his tool, and Satine placed it on his palm. "I'm glad you decided to leave," the Jedi said after a moment of silence. "Master Qui-Gon said you had some trouble with Edric."

"Trouble I brought upon myself, yes..." she muttered, looking away from him and staring at the components in her hand, taking the tool back from Obi-Wan when he handed it to her and dropping the small pieces into his hand when he pointed to them. "Qui-Gon tells me you had a bit of trouble with Veela," she said, her fingers lightly touching the mark on his neck, and the Jedi gasped and quickly jerked away, his hand quickly rising to rub self-consciously at the spot. Kenobi laughed nervously when silence held between them, not the comfortable silence he had grown accustomed to, but a deeply awkward one.

"Nothing I couldn't handle. She's, uh..." he stammered, flushing deeply as he returned to his work. "She's a woman that knows what she wants..."

"...what's it like?" Satine asked softly, her voice just barely a whisper as she ran the Padawan's braid between delicate, hesitant fingers, and for a moment, Obi-Wan found himself at a loss for words because he couldn't breathe.

"I-I don't know..." he said, breathless and barely audible as he looked at the wide-eyed, curious Duchess, her entire being filled with...something, he couldn't place it. "I turned her away. She's, uh...not exactly my type," Obi-Wan said, a faint smile on his face despite himself, his breathing shuddering from the warmth he felt from Satine's touch on his shoulder, and the Duchess looked away from her protector, her hand covering her mouth to hide the wide smile she couldn't repress.

"Perhaps it is hasty to leave," Satine said when Obi-Wan quickly closed the engine panels, sealing the compartment and wiping his hands on the rag at his belt. "It's not like we're in any danger here, the Ordos are allies, I just...don't agree with their ideals."

"And which ideals are those?" Obi-Wan dryly asked as he walked around the ship, Satine in tow as he checked the various junctions and compartments he had been working on, setting his datapad to prompt the ship's systems to run the final diagnostic, a lengthy process, but a necessary one that would clear them for safe travel, at least so far as the integrity of the ship was concerned. "The ideals that make it alright in their minds to get their childhood friends too drunk to protest to their advances? Or is there some other ideal they have I am unaware of?" Satine glared pointedly at her young protector.

"Their dedication to our warrior ways," she said through clenched teeth. "And I'll have you know, Jedi, Edric Ordo is a very handsome man, and I wouldn't have protested his advances, even if I was completely sober."

"Well, you certainly did encourage him enough yesterday with all your flirting," Kenobi said, glowering slightly when the Duchess smacked his arm.

"Don't be crass, Obi-Wan! What does a Jedi know about passion?"

"We know it leads to terrible decisions."

"Oh, does it?!" Satine snapped, scowling as she followed the Jedi. "Well, I made the decision to leave on a whim! Maybe I should stay here!"

"Going somewhere, Duchess?" Satine and Obi-Wan both quickly spun around when they heard the cold, tight voice, and the Jedi instinctively stepped in front of Satine, his eyes narrowed in focus as he watched Edric Ordo, flanked by six heavily armed Mandalorian warriors, approach the pair. "I can't advise that you do," Edric continued when neither said a word. "Things are...dangerous out there."

"All the more reason for us to leave," Obi-Wan said calmly. "We'd hate for your hospitality to be thanked with violence when her enemies find her." Edric's eyes narrowed, and he sneered viciously.

"You'd let this Jedi filth speak for you, Satine?" the warrior growled, sharp green eyes studying the teenager that stood between him and the Duchess.

"Obi-Wan's right, Edric," Satine said quickly, rushing to stand at Obi-Wan's side and laying a hand on his arm. "You said the Wrens are at your doorstep, they are bound to Clan Vizsla, and when they find out I'm here, the entire might of the Death Watch is going to come down on you! I won't be the reason for that kind of violence, I won't be the cause of your clan's execution!" Her hand tightened at her side as she held her breath and tried to swallow the tears that rapidly threatened to fall from her eyes. "Death Watch has already destroyed my family, isn't that enough?!"

"Hmph." Edric crossed his arms over his chest and drew up to his considerable full height. "In that case, let me accompany you." The delicate hand on Obi-Wan's arm tensed as Satine sucked in a sharp breath. "I can protect you from everything out there, Satine. Point me at your enemies, and I will destroy them all." Slowly, the Duchess exhaled, her grip loosening as she raised her head.

"I have a protector, Edric."

The deep green eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the calm face of the Duchess, and narrowed viciously when his gaze snapped to Obi-Wan. "Him?!" he snarled, pointing an accusing finger at the Jedi. "You would continue to be protected by him?! A boy not yet man enough to shave?! You would choose the Jedi over your kinsmen!"

"I would choose peace over violence!" the Duchess spat, meeting his outrage with fury of her own, which was immediately quelled when Obi-Wan brushed his hand over her shoulder.

"Duchess..." Kenobi said softly. "Let it be. Fighting will bring us nothing."

"And you think that can protect you?!" Edric said, laughing in disbelief as he pointed at the Jedi. "There is no victory in peace, Satine! What do you mean to do, armor yourself in words and foolish ideals?! Your reality is war, Duchess! Face it like the warrior your father raised you to be!"

"My father," Satine hissed, her fury rising as the wound within her split wide open, "raised me to forge a new path for Mandalore! He may have been a warrior, but he was a wise man that saw the truth of our old ways as one that would lead us to ruin!"

"We are warriors!" Edric shouted, his face reddening in anger. "War is our way!"

"And war will be the end of us!" Satine countered. "Everything I do, everything I have ever done has been for Mandalore, for the love of my people, and if it means incurring your scorn, if it means allying with our ancient enemies, then so be it!"

"You've made your decision then?" Edric growled, looking between the Duchess and the Jedi. "Fine." He pointed an accusing finger at Obi-Wan. "Step forward, Jedi, prove to me you can defend our Duchess. Fight me, show me you're more worthy than I, show me why she has such faith in an enemy!"

"Obi-Wan," Satine said firmly, her eyes never leaving the enraged Mandalorian. "You have nothing to prove to him. Don't fight him."

"I wasn't going to, Duchess."

"Coward!" Edric snarled, rushing forward and stopping before Obi-Wan when he grabbed hold of Satine's hand to pull her out of the way and stepped protectively before her. "You think you can defend her?" Edric hissed menacingly, standing mere inches from the stalwart Jedi. "Do you truly think you can stand against the might of Mandalore?"

"If I remember correctly, the Jedi have fought the Mandalorians in the past," Obi–Wan said, calm and devoid of emotion. "And you lost."

"This war will not be won by refusing to fight!"

"That is exactly how this war will be won, when all you fools drop your weapons and come to the table to talk," Obi-Wan said. "Just as every war must ultimately end. With talk, with negotiation."

"Let's see how much your words help you against an opponent who will stop at nothing to see you dead," Edric said, soft and menacing and laying his hand upon the blaster at his hip. "Just like all of Satine's enemies, each and every one of them wishes her not capture, but dead, and they will stop at nothing. They are strong, and they are fierce, and they will kill you, Jedi, and they will make Satine watch her peace die before she is executed. You can't stand against such strength." He grinned wickedly. "But I can. I am strong, and I will kill every enemy that stands before her. Unlike you."

"Taking up arms is easy," Obi-Wan said, drawing up to his full height, which was still a good deal smaller than the tall, broad shouldered Edric. "It takes strength to find a way other than violence to settle conflict. Those that take that path are strong," he said, looking back at the nervous, fraught Satine. "Stronger than you'll ever be."

There was silence for a moment before Edric began laughing, shaking his head, and without warning, he took hold of Obi-Wan's shoulder and drove his knee into the Jedi's gut, the younger teen grunting in pain from the force of the powerful impact, and gasping for breath, the Mandalorian threw him to the ground. With a cry of desperation, Satine moved to rush by Obi-Wan's side and was quickly stopped by one of the warriors that Edric had brought with him, the six of them moving to encircle the coughing Jedi as he struggled to his hands and knees, and their furiously pacing leader.

"What's wrong, Jedi!" Edric cried triumphantly, his voice dripping with mock concern and cruelty, his eyes lighting up with the anticipation of a fight. "Come now, fight back! You're supposed to be some great protector!" When Obi-Wan planted his hand on his knee to hoist himself to his feet, Edric swiftly kicked him in the stomach with all his strength, a pained cry torn from the Jedi's throat as he collapsed and curled up on the ground, each breath painful as his ribs seemed to shift unnaturally with his every move.

"Obi-Wan!" Satine cried, moving to rush forward to his side once again, but one of the soldiers gripped her firmly by the wrist to hold her back. Thrashing in his grasp, the Duchess tried to no avail to pry his fingers from her. "Let me go! Obi-Wan!"

"You think he can defend you, Duchess?" Edric drawled, swiftly punching the boy in the lower back when he started to rise again, and when that didn't seem to move him, he threw his armored knuckles against the back of the Jedi's head, the dazed boy dropping to the ground and groaning softly in pain. "He can't even defend himself."

"You are supposed to be my ally, Edric!" Satine cried frantically, pulling against the man that held her. "Stop this!"

"Do you see now that your way doesn't work?" the warrior cruelly said, a smirk on his face when her eyes widened in sudden fear for her friend. "I don't want to stop, and your great protector already said he won't fight back." He grinned at the Duchess as he drew closer. "But if you want to negotiate for your friend's life, we'll do it. Dismiss your Jedi, send them away, and you remain in our custody. Clan Kryze is finished. It's time you accept that."

"Not yet it isn't..." Obi-Wan groaned, standing on shaking legs behind the warrior, and Edric turned to face him, surprised for a moment before anger gripped him.

"You don't know when to quit, do you, Jedi."

"Nope."

"You are a brave one, aren't you?" Edric drawled, his hand closing into a fist as he slowly stepped toward the Padawan. "Too stupid for sense..."

"Tell your men to let Satine go," Obi-Wan said calmly, no hint of pain in his voice at all, and Edric's eyes narrowed. How was the boy even standing?

"Make them!" the man snapped, pointing a finger at the Duchess. "You want to save her, boy, you're going to have to do it yourself! We're only seven men, Jedi, certainly no match for someone like you!" The moment Obi-Wan's gaze drifted to the Duchess, Edric's fist slammed into his chest, sending him stumbling backwards, but he kept his balance and managed to duck under the next wild swing, his hands raised and quickly managing to block and deflect the flurry of punched and strikes that the Mandalorian threw against him. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye just too late to block a punch from one of the surrounding warriors, the armored fist catching him in the side of the jaw, and the Jedi's vision went white, his feet swept out from under him a moment later and he slammed to the ground, his back striking the hard metal of the hangar floor.

Groaning and moving as swiftly as he could, Obi-Wan rolled over on to his stomach to push himself to his feet, only to have pain lance through his leg when Edric put a heavy heel on his calf. Gritting his teeth to keep from shouting in pain, Obi-Wan hissed sharply when a large, powerful hand reached down and grabbed his hair, grown out just long enough get a firm grasp, and yanked his head back, pulling him up to his knees, the Jedi gasping in pain through short breaths. Fear and panic rushed through Satine as she watched the Mandalorians brutalize her peaceful Jedi defender, and instead of continuing her pointless attempts to free herself from the powerful grip, she quickly reached out to her captor's hip and grabbed his blaster and shot a bolt of red plasma into his leg the man howling in pain as he released her, hands held tightly to the burning wound as he fell to the ground. The loud whine of the discharging weapon made the remaining soldiers reflexively draw their own sidearms as Satine leveled the blaster at Edric, the warrior staring at her with shock in his eyes, his hand tightening around the captive Jedi's hair.

"That is enough!" Nobody moved, but everyone's eyes shot to gaze at Qui-Gon as he entered the hangar and approached on long, confident strides. As the steps of the Master echoed louder as the distance between them closed, Obi-Wan slowly began to laugh.

"Took you long enough, Master..." Kenobi said between grit teeth, and the Master stopped in his tracks when the Mandalorians in the room turned their blasters on him.

"Sorry, I had a matter to attend to," Qui-Gon said softly. "Are you alright?" Hissing in pain, Obi-Wan nodded as much as Edric's tight grasp permitted. "Having fun?"

"Oh, absolutely, Master..." Obi-Wan said in a whimper when Edric pressed his knee into his back. "Seven on one's a bit much, though, I thought it best to wait for you to join the party..." He winced when Edric drew his blaster and placed the barrel to Kenobi's head.

"Understood." Qui-Gon drew his lightsaber and ignited the green blade. "You wanted to fight a Jedi, Edric, you fight me. You're standing between me and my mission, and that's a very dangerous place to be."

"Kill him!" Edric commanded his men. "Kill the Jedi!"

The sound of blaster fire and the hissing of the plasma bolts as they struck the lightsaber filled the air, and before he could pull the trigger, Obi-Wan grabbed the hand that held Edric's blaster, angling the weapon away from him as the blaster discharged. Grabbing the man's elbow, he twisted Edric's wrist outward and pulled down as he pushed the elbow forward, the swift opposing motions causing the Mandalorian to flip over the Padawan's shoulder and land flat on his back right before him. Keeping a firm grasp on his wrist, Obi-Wan brought his newly freed leg forward, slamming his knee into the hyper-extended elbow, and with a snap and a sharp scream of pain and disbelief, Edric's arm bent backwards at the joint, hopelessly broken.

His lightsaber blazing to brilliant blue life in his hand, Obi-Wan reached out with the Force and took hold of Satine and pulled her into his protective grasp just as the Mandalorian soldiers opened fire on the trio, holding her close and deflecting red and green plasma bolts away from the Duchess. Qui-Gon ran in, quick and aggressive and stood next to his Padawan, his blade expertly swinging and batting the blaster fire back at the ones who shot at them, the deflected bolts striking hands and blasters and shoulders, and before long, all seven men lay groaning in pain and wounded upon the ground.

"To the ship, Obi-Wan, quickly," Qui-Gon said, the three of them turning to see Veela Ordo between them and the boarding ramp, a line of nearly twenty people flanking her, men and women, all of different races, in different armor, and all heavily armed, and all weapons pointed at them. Bounty hunters. Qui-Gon held his saber out before him, watching out of the corner of his eye as Obi-Wan's arm tightened around the Duchess, Satine's cheeks streaked with tears and tightly clinging to her protector, her face against his chest, her shoulders visibly shaking.

"Brother," Veela said with a sigh. "You had one job." She glared at the man in disdain as he screamed through clenched teeth, clutching his broken arm. "How difficult is it for a warrior of Mandalore, of Clan Ordo to beat a sexless, soulless boy and a pacifist? The Jedi wasn't even here!" She sneered. "They are children." Edric screamed in outrage between clenched teeth, and Veela turned her gaze on the Duchess and smiled. "Sweet Satine. You should have spread your legs for my brother like the whore you are. It's the only use you have left."

"W-why are you doing this!" Satine cried, her eyes wide and begging for answers, and Veela sneered, the coldness of her glare making Satine clutch Obi-Wan's thin tunic tighter, her distress making the Padawan pull her closer.

"Because!" Veela chirped. "You are a traitor to Mandalore, you are a disgrace. Dar'manda, soulless! Worse than the Jedi you stand beside, because you were once Mandalorian."

"You are supposed to be my ally, Veela, Clan Ordo has stood beside Clan Kryze for ages!" Satine cried desperately, and Veela's face hardened.

"We stood by your father, a mighty warlord! We stood by your brother! But you?" She scoffed. "You turn to the Jedi, the enemies of Mandalore! You renounce our ways, you go against everything it means to be Mandalorian! It's good thing your father and brother are dead, because your actions would have shamed them." With a whimper, Satine laid her head on Obi-Wan's chest, the strong, slow, even beat of his heart calming her, despite the blasters trained on them.

"Do we kill them now?" the bounty hunter at Veela's side growled, and the woman smirked.

"Not yet. Remember, these are the Jedi that escaped the Death Watch on Zanbar."

"You were supposed to divide them!" a Rodian female hissed, and Veela shot her a pointed glare.

"It didn't work out," she said, her voice tight with anger. "I didn't think the Jedi were actually without passion. I didn't think that Satine had become a slut for the Jedi. I thought there was something left of Mandalore within her, I thought Edric was man enough to bury himself inside her and pump it out." She smiled sweetly at Satine. "What's it like to be soulless, Satine? What's it like playing the whore for the Jedi to keep your power?" She waved a dismissive hand in the air. "You won't have it for long."

"Obi-Wan..." Qui-Gon said softly, his voice drowned out by the sound of their thrumming lightsabers and neither one daring to move. "You have no restrictions. Get Satine to the ship, no matter the cost. Remember, the rules get in the way of the mission. Feel the Living Force, trust your feelings." Obi-Wan's arm tightened around Satine, pulling her close, his hand soothingly stroking her shoulder, and he could feel his resolve strengthen.

"I understand, Master."

"After we kill your Jedi, Satine," Veela drawled, "we're all going to have a talk with Tor Vizsla. He's very interested in having you. Or..." She grinned wickedly. "Having you here with Clan Ordo will significantly strengthen our ability to take and hold Sundari. We'll have to see what father says." She pointed with her chin at the disabled Edric. "So good of the Jedi to break you in, because you'll be spending lots of time under my brother..."

"Enough, Veela," Qui-Gon said softly. "Let us go, and nobody will be harmed." She stared at him for a moment, then laughed harshly.

"Let me explain what's going to happen, Jedi. You're going to die. You can try to escape, of course, but every bounty hunter in the system knows you're here, and if you happen to get into the sky, our fortress is equipt with ion cannons, and you won't get far." She laughed and pointed her blaster at the trio. "Kill the Jedi first. These two ran circles around the Death Watch." Two dozen blasters emitted a high whine as they were primed, and before they were fired, Qui-Gon extended his hand and pushed back with the Force, sending a group of the bounty hunters flying backwards, their blasters discharging randomly into the air. Master rushed forward, his lightsaber swinging and deflecting the rapid fire, drawing the attention of the majority of the hunters as the greatest threat when the glowing green blade bit through the arms and legs of the hunters that got too close, sending much of the group into a retreat as they took cover.

Gripping Satine close as blaster fire flew in the air around them, Obi-Wan deflected the shots focused on them from two nearby hunters and reached out with the Force, grabbing the two men and lifting them into the air. With a swift cut downwards with his saber, the hunters were slammed down to the ground, moving sluggishly on the floor as they struggled to rise, only to be swept aside with a powerful push of the Force as Obi-Wan rushed by, Satine clutched closely to him as they ran for the ship.

The moment their feet hit the boarding ramp, Obi-Wan gasped in pain, stumbling forward as he lost his balance, and the Duchess quickly caught hold of him, lending him her shoulder so he could rise, a smoking hole burned into the lean muscle of his thigh. He whipped his lightsaber around and deflected the next volley of blaster fire, his teeth grit and his eyes narrowed in focus as he looked at Veela Ordo, twin blasters in her hands and furiously glaring at the Jedi and the Duchess.

"Stay behind me, Satine..." Obi-Wan said softly, stepping before her and wincing as he put weight on the injured leg, his lightsaber held before him as he faced off against Veela. The warrior primed her weapons and rapidly fired, the Jedi deflecting the bolts away, fighting through the pain as he defended the Duchess. One bolt got past his defense, striking him in the hip, his knee giving way from the impact and pain, allowing a second bolt to hit just below his navel, and the Jedi dropped to his knees.

With a wicked grin, Veela rushed forward, her weapons whining as they primed for a final round, and just before her feet hit the boarding ramp, a powerful impact slammed into her shoulder, her weapons dropping from her hands as she staggered back and looked in shock at the blaster that Satine had pointed directly at her. The weapon discharged again, the next two shots striking her in both legs, and Veela dropped to the ground, her jaw clenched in pain and she stared hatefully at the Duchess.

Qui-Gon rushed to the ship when he felt pain in the Force, abandoning his fight with the remaining bounty hunters, the majority of their number laying dead upon the ground, leaving the tattered remains behind to regroup before making their next assault, and in the distance, he could hear the shouting and commands of Mandalorian soldiers as they rushed into the hangar. When Qui-Gon got to the ship, he found Satine acting as support to Obi-Wan, his arm draped over her shoulders and his lightsaber in hand, pale and sweating and breathing in ragged gasps. Without a word, he rushed past them as Satine began frantically screaming at him for his help, running through the corridors of the ship to the cockpit, where he quickly powered the ship on, reaching out with his senses to detect if anyone was hiding aboard the starship and found nothing, but double checked on his way back to the ramp anyway.

Satine and Obi-Wan were standing in the hatch when he returned to them, the Padawan swinging his saber and deflecting the fire of the newly arrived forces as Satine shot back at them from behind the cover of the doorway and Kenobi's body. He put his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder and pulled him out of the way, the boy whimpering in pain as he staggered for balance on wounded legs, and with a cry of desperation, Satine rushed to his side, glaring at the other Jedi until she saw that his own robes sported several holes made from blaster fire.

"Satine, take him to the cockpit, have him get us in the air," Qui-Gon quickly commanded, his saber swinging with deadly precision and expertly deflecting bolts back at the soldiers that shot at him, giving the others pause and forcing them to form into groups to take cover.

"Qui-Gon, I don't think-"

"He can do it, Satine, trust him!" the Master snapped, and with a nod, the Duchess took her place under the Padawan's arm and helped him limp into the cockpit. With a groan of pain, Obi-Wan lowered himself into the pilot's seat, quickly activated the weapon systems, and directed the aiming module at the large, closed doors of the hangar.

"Satine..." Kenobi said, soft and quiet and laced with pain. "Go tell Master Qui-Gon to seal the ship up, he's not going to like what I'm about to do." Without wasting a moment, Satine rushed to do as she was told, getting to the Master just in time to feel the ship shudder as the forward cannons were fired. She heard the loud crash of explosions and metal twisting and grinding as the ship rapidly fired, and a second later, she felt the oxygen sucked out of her lungs as superheated air from the explosion blasted past them in a fiery blaze, the force sending the warriors flying through the air and scattering as jetpacks exploded and armor was burned and melted.

Qui-Gon slammed his fist on the control console, retracting the ramp and sealing the hatch shut as the ship shivered, lifting off the ground and vertical wings rotating to lay horizontal along the ship's cabin, the ground beneath them lurching forward as the engines engaged, and the ship shot out of the large, melted hole of the hangar doors.

Qui-Gon and Satine threw themselves into their seats in the cockpit as soon as they arrived, the Duchess nervously looking at the deathly pale Padawan, his eyes focused intently out the viewport, his hair wet with sweat as it ran down his face, a dark bruise forming on his cheek from where he was struck earlier. Satine closed her eyes, her chest aching with the threat of tears. She couldn't look at him.

"The ion cannons have locked on to us..." Obi-Wan said weakly as the console lights began to flash in warning, and Qui-Gon laid his hand on the boy's shoulder, smiling softly as he channeled the Force into his student with the direction to heal.

"They won't be a problem," Qui-Gon said softly, his faint smile becoming a wide grin when Obi-Wan looked at him from the corner of his eye. "I told you. I was late to your fight because I got hung up." He shrugged. "You sensed danger, Obi-Wan, and that is not to be ignored. And ion cannons are so easy to disable." Through the pain, Obi-Wan smiled softly, shooting up into the atmosphere completely unhindered, and as soon as they cleared Ordo's gravitational field, the ship made the jump to lightspeed.

"We need time to regroup..." Qui-Gon said as soon as the stars blurred into blue and white, quickly rising from his seat and handing Satine a datapad. "I've acquired a great deal of information from the Ordos. Go through it, see if there's anything of interest. Enemy strongholds, potential allies, anything."

"A-alright..." the Duchess said, clutching the datapad tightly in her hands as she watched Qui-Gon quickly pull Obi-Wan's tunic off, and she quickly turned away when she saw the boy's pale body a mess of blue and black and purple bruises. "Obi-Wan..." she whimpered, laying a hand on his bruised shoulder and quickly drawing her hand away when the boy flinched. "...I-I'm sorry..." she whispered, wringing her hands before her and staring at the ground as she felt her world shatter. "I should have listened to you. You felt things were wrong, and I-" She was silenced when Obi-Wan reached up and gently ran the back of his fingers down her pale cheek.

"No harm done, my Duchess..." Kenobi said, soft and gentle, a pained smile on his face.

"No harm?!" the Duchess gasped. "Obi-Wan, look at you! You look like you're dying!"

"He'll be fine," Qui-Gon quietly assured her, a hand on the cauterized wound in his abdomen, his other hand resting on his chest.

"This is my fault!" she insisted, her eyes wide as she looked at Obi-Wan as he closed his eyes, his breathing shuddering as the Force flowed through him. "None of this would have happened if I just listened to you from the beginning!"

"You're safe," Obi-Wan said, soft and breathless. "That's all that matters." Satine looked away. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, and when she felt her chest tighten again with the threat of tears, she ran from the room, the cockpit door hissing closed behind her.

"Master..." Obi-Wan said after a long moment of silence. "I-"

"Hush," Qui-Gon quickly commanded. "I'm working. You rest." The Padawan didn't say a word as he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, relaxing into his Master's touch and the feel of the Force. Qui-Gon gently pat his bruised chest. "Well done, Obi-Wan." With a faint smile, he gently tugged on his braid, the injured Padawan chuckling softly as he did so. "You are allowed to defend yourself."

"Against seven aggressive men while defending the Duchess?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "No thank you. If I'm no threat to them, their guard relaxes. I just needed to wait for you to even things up."

"You possess a super human defense, Obi-Wan. I doubt anyone can take a beating like you."

"As you said, trust in the Force..." He frowned, opening his eyes as he looked at his Master's serene face. "...Master?"

"Hmm..."

"About the Living Force...a-and trusting your feelings..." He took a deep breath, his chest tightening. "Master, I-"

"Qui-Gon?" Kenobi hissed as the door slid open, the Duchess peeking inside, her eyes cast at the ground. "I...just wanted to say thank you..." she whimpered, her hands tightly clutching the hem of her tunic. "I was reluctant to have Jedi protectors, but...I'd have nobody else." Despite the pain, a gentle, genuine smile spread across Obi-Wan's face, a warmth spreading in his chest that wasn't just from the Force. "I'll try to be an easier charge..."

"You are most welcome, Duchess," Qui-Gon said warmly. "Please, get some rest. This day hasn't been easy for any of us."

"I will..." She turned and paused in the doorway. "...rest well, Obi-Wan."

"Rest well, Satine," Kenobi said sith a smile, and the door slid closed as the Duchess swiftly left.

"You were saying?" Qui-Gon asked, looking at his Padawan curiously, the boy unable to take his gaze from the cockpit door. Finally, he looked at the Master and smiled weakly.

"It's nothing, Master." Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan relaxed, and with warmth pulsing through his veins, the Padawan quickly fell asleep.

---

Entry thirty nine.

My mother always said that writing can help lift the veil of sadness and bring perspective to a bad situation, but she never said anything about it lifting the weight of depression. There is no perspective to be had here. She's dead, my father is dead, my brother is dead, and I don't even know where to begin mourning them. I've been running for so long, I've scarcely had the time to think about it. But on Ordo, with Veela and Edric...we talked about my family. They knew them, fought beside them, and everything came flooding back. All my mother's lessons in how to navigate a social scene and how to debate. All the times my father took me aside and quietly taught me how to spar, not with weapons, but with words. All the times my brother privately instructed me in combat, even though I was always reluctant. All the times Bo-Katan and I would read the histories of our people together...

All of it, lost to me.

I only realized how much on Ordo. I thought they were my friends. No, they were my friends. Veela, always so strong, a warrior my brother admired, my sister looked up to. And Edric, a dear friend of my brother that I have watched training in the Sundari courtyard on several occasions because I thought him strong and handsome. I don't understand how they could have come to turn on me as they had. I have always been different, something of an oddity in my family, but to think they believe me soulless when all I ever desired was what's best for Mandalore. How can they not see what this war is doing to us? How could they think that I...and with the Jedi!

I feel sick thinking about how foolish I was. I let my guard down. I trusted them, I trusted him, and for my trust, I nearly lost everything. He made me...ache, and he knew it, he preyed on it to come between me and my protectors, to get me away from the Jedi so Clan Ordo could rise, so they could do what they wished with me. My name still carries weight, and I still have supporters...I think. And they were going to use that to seize power, and I'd have ended up dead, or little more than a pleasure slave to...

No, I don't want to think about that.

I can still feel him touching me. I can still feel how close I came to letting him use me. I thought myself better than that. I thought I was stronger than that. I thought he actually cared. And what he did to Obi-Wan...

Dear, sweet Obi-Wan...

He's been on my mind a great deal as of late, as he should be, for all the pain he's suffered on my behalf, for all the sacrifices he has made for me. I don't know when I came to think of him so fondly. I was certain that just the other day, I hated him. He is frustrating and stubborn, imperious and arrogant when he knows he's right, which is often, no small feat for an idiot. And he is so stupidly sweet, so frustratingly kind, maddeningly brave, infuriatingly beautiful...

See, this is what I'm talking about.

Last night, when I was so foolishly drunk and alone in bed and aching with need that cruel, awful Edric put inside me, all I could think about was Obi-Wan. I dare not repeat the things I thought of him, but they were not exactly befitting a woman of my station. It had to be the alcohol. I can't explain it any other way. Alcohol and lust and aching for company at night. Of course I'd think of Obi-Wan. He's my age, and we already spend far too much time together. Who else should I fantasize about than him?

I need to go to him. His injuries are severe, and each one of them is a direct result of my foolishness. It isn't right for him to suffer because of me, but I look at him and feel I am suffering too. It's only right that we should suffer together. Perhaps we can find some solace in each other as well. I won't leave his side until he had recovered.

I must go tend to my shining Jedi Knight. He may not need me, but I certainly need him.