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.

16. Vorpa'ya

AN: Alright kids, here it is. Your longest chapter yet, maybe the longest one in the entire fic. Sorry it took a while, I've been sick, and this baby has been fighting back in some places, and I wanted to get it just right for you. You lovelies better appreciate it, because here it is. Since we got some payoff here, give me a little bit to update this baby again, I have some planning to do. Next week or the week after, I suppose. Now that school's back in session, I'll have more time to write, so updates should be faster.

Let me know what you think, kids! I do know this is more a pet project than anything, but still, I like to know what you guys think, what you guys want, blah blah. That's the shit that keeps me going!

Chapter 16: Vorpa'ya

"Well, hey there, beautiful..."

It wasn't the voice Obi-Wan wanted to hear, and he almost decided to ignore the speaker entirely in favor of continuing his service of the ship, but he could feel the resolve of the men behind them, sensed their stubborn refusal to move, and knew they wouldn't simply leave. After three days on Vorpa'ya, there was only so much work he could do on the engines before anything he did became redundant, so with a heavy sigh, he withdrew his hands from the open engine panel and turned to face the group of young men, all in Mandalorian armor of varying colors, all tall and strong, the speaker standing before the other four with his hand on his hip and a sultry, interested, though almost mocking smirk on his face. It wasn't mean-spirited, Obi-Wan felt, it was merely arrogance, the same bravado he had come to expect from Mandalore's young warriors.

"Can I help you?" Obi-Wan asked, wiping sweat from his forehead as he turned to face the group. It was hot, the air thick and humid, and though it was still early, it was nearly unbearable, just as it had been every day since they landed. Working near the ship's engines wasn't helping things either, and Obi-Wan was forced to work bare-chested just to keep even reasonably cool, though the humid air clung to him and made him slicked with sweat even before he had gone running that morning. He could feel the eyes of the boys raking over him, and he might have been self-conscious if it weren't so damn hot, but as it was, he couldn't find it within himself to care.

"I think you can, actually," the boy said, an almost wolfish grin on his face as he looked back at his suddenly excited friends. "I'm Novin Cadera, and my friends and I couldn't help but seeing you around."

"That's because I have been around..." Obi-Wan droned, wiping his arm across his forehead yet again when he felt sweat trickling toward his eyes. Three days, and he had barely seen Qui-Gon and Satine at all. He had caught glimpses of them from a distance, the Master standing vigil over his Duchess, the girl relaxed and easy and laughing as she spoke to her people, her friends, her allies, her many, many suitors. She came alive here. Gone was the frightened girl on the run, replaced by the woman that she would grow to become, and it was achingly beautiful to the young Padawan, though it made it clear that she was far, far out of his league, completely unattainable by him or anyone else. Satine was a wild spirit, beautiful and dangerous as flames, and to try catch and keep a woman like that was asking to be burned.

Without his Master to give him orders and without Satine to protect, Obi-Wan had an abundance of free time, and he spent it meditating, running, drilling with his saber and wishing it was forty degrees cooler. He spent a fair deal of time on the ship as well, but only so much was left to be done, leaving him with lots of time for the intensive training that was attracting this kind of attention. Obi-Wan was content enough to be alone, his solitary, shy nature taking over in the presence of so many people, so much passion, so much aggression, all uncontrolled fire like Satine had been like when he first met her. He was beginning to regret engaging these boys, wishing that he had instead ignored him like he had initially wanted. He had the willpower to wait them out, and his last engagement with Mandalorian warriors in a group like this...hadn't gone well. His body still bore the scars from Edric Ordo. He would not soon forget that.

"Oooh, I like this Jedi!" Novin said, laughing as he stepped closer and putting his hands up before him when Obi-Wan took a nervous step back. "Easy there, little guy, we aren't going to hurt you!"

"Kaysh chaabar'mhi," one of the other men said in accented Mando'a, a guttural, grating thing as harsh as the people that spoke it, so unlike Satine's own melodic lit, and Obi-Wan couldn't help the twitch of irritation at the edge of his lips. He's afraid of us. "Ner buir ratiin sirbur ibac Jetiise cuyir hut'uun." My father always said that the Jedi were cowards.

"Ner buir sirbur'te jetiise ganar nayc copikla," another one scoffed, and Obi-Wan glared at him, looking past the group's leader as he quietly hushed his outspoken friend. My father says the Jedi don't have any desires. "Vaabir gar mirdir kaysh cuyir haat'a jag? Ni mirdir ogir cuyir naas chur beskar'gam." Do you think he's even a man? I bet he doesn't have anything between his legs.

"I am not afraid of you," Obi-Wan snapped, his patience worn down by the heat and the unwanted company, and the Mandalorians quickly recoiled, shock and shame written on their faces. "Please, allow me to clear up your misconceptions. The Jedi do have desires, we are simply better at controlling them, and I am more of a man than you, since I don't hide behind a language barrier like some child."

"You understand Mando'a?" Novin asked, leaning in toward the Jedi and carefully looking him over, examining him with great interest, and despite the scrutiny, Obi-Wan found it within himself to stay standing tall despite his inclination to shrink away. When the Jedi didn't answer, only returned a hard stare directed at the cowed and offended friends, Novin laughed, a bright smile cracking his face and he ran a hand across his golden blond hair. "Do you speak it as well?"

"Ni vaabir," Obi-Wan said, the grin on the Mandalorian's face widening further at the soft, accented drawl to the Jedi's perfectly spoken Mando'a. "Bic cuyir linibar par'ner aka, bal ni'ganar te'jatne hibirar ret'yc par'te bora." It was necessary for the mission, and I had the best possible teacher for the task.

"I don't think anyone can doubt the quality of your teacher, Jedi, your Mando'a is flawless." Novin gestured to Obi-Wan's bare torso, his extended finger lingering toward the places where dark, deep scars were carved out of the pale flesh. "Those are scars from blaster fire," he said, his voice lowering in pitch as if he were sharing a secret. "Did you get them in defense of our Duchess?"

"I-I did..." Obi-Wan stuttered, suddenly feeling increasingly self-conscious when he looked down and noticed just how many old wounds his body bore, but Novin only seemed satisfied, a cocky smirk spreading across his face as he leaned back toward his friends.

"My father says the Jedi are fools for wearing robes and not armor into battle," the man drawled. "He says only the stupid and the soulless go into battle in their bed clothes." He grinned when Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed, the Jedi standing defiantly. "But I think that maybe the Jedi don't wear armor because they're just braver than most." He extended his hand out toward the Jedi, and Kenobi looked at it cautiously. "What's your name, Jedi?"

"...Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said, hesitantly taking the Mandalorian's hand, and as soon as he did, Novin tightly clasped it between his own, shaking vigorously in his excitement.

"Word is Edric Ordo and his posse gave you hell, and you broke his arm for the trouble. That so?"

"That's...one way of looking at it, I suppose..." Obi-Wan muttered, his eyes quickly darting to the group as they began to excitedly chatter.

"No wonder you looked so afraid of us!" Novin said, laughing heartily as he clapped the hapless Jedi on the shoulder. "Having to deal with that traitor Edric Ordo and his thugs must have left you wary of our warriors in groups! Worry not, Obi-Wan, you're among friends here!" Novin flashed the tense, uneasy Jedi a smile and draped his arm around his shoulders, leading the reluctant Jedi away from the ship, the other four following dutifully behind them. "We've seen you training these past few days, and I have to say, I'm impressed. Let us train with you, we want to test our strength against one of the legendary Jedi Knights."

"I'm not a Knight, not yet..." Obi-Wan grumbled, but the other boy was not deterred, and now that he stood close to the Mandalorian, he didn't appear to be more than a year or two older. He was young, too young for battle, Obi-Wan thought, but Satine's were a people that were bled early for combat.

"All the more reason for the practice!" Novin chirped, a good natured smile on his face as he led Obi-Wan toward an open air training ring in one of the many courtyards, only sparsely occupied by other Mandalorian warriors who were testing their skills against each other with staves and sticks and practice swords. "I fear that Mandalore as of late is not conducive to the training I am certain you need. I'm sure you have been lacking for...friendly sparring partners," Novin said with a sly grin, patting the Jedi on the chest and pointing to the scar on his shoulder, one of the first wounds of many he had taken for Satine. "No lack for enemies though, yes?"

"I am certainly not lacking in people who actually want to kill me, no..."

"Well, my father always says that experience is the best teacher!" Novin stated proudly, his chest puffed up and his head held high. "Still, a warrior will not survive the battle if they are slack in their training, and we are perfect for you." The boy grinned as he picked up a staff from a weapon rack, his brow furrowed in concentration as he measured the weight of it in his hand, and nodding curtly, he spun the stick around in his grip, the narrowed tip landing in the fine, compacted sand of the training arena. "You are fighting Mandalorians. We are Mandalorian warriors. By training with us, you may come to learn your enemy as well."

"...that is actually a fair point," Obi-Wan conceded, easily catching a staff out of the air when Novin tossed him another taken from the rack. "I warn you, I am not terribly proficient at fighting, it isn't something I like to do," Obi-Wan said softly, the staff spinning rapidly in his grip as he acclimated himself to the size and the weight, his focus narrowing as he touched the Force to calm his nerves and tuning out the excited whispers of Novin's friends. "I fear I may cast the skills of a Jedi in a rather poor light. If you want to test yourself against a Jedi, you're better off seeking out my Master."

"Mm, I haven't seen your Master training tirelessly alone beside his ship for days now," Novin gently chided. "No, Obi-Wan, I'm far, far more interested in testing myself against you. You've fought against the Death Watch, you've stood against the enemies of Mandalore and lived. That is no small thing."

"Master Qui-Gon does most of the fighting. I just run and hide with the Duchess."

"Modesty," Novin scoffed, his grip tightening around the staff and eying the Jedi as he slowly began to circle his opponent. "You won't fool me, Jedi. Your actions speak far louder than your words."

"You haven't seen my actions," Obi-Wan said with a smirk, the weapon held loosely in his own grip as he watched Novin's careful, predatory step, the way his weight shifted, the feel of the Force around him as it pulsed with excited anticipation, stilling for a moment as the man's state changed, shifting from observation to the moment before action.

"I'm about to..." the Mandalorian growled, the words hanging between them for just a moment before the Mandalorian exploded into action, sprinting toward the Jedi and bringing the staff heavy down toward him, only to have the Jedi deftly step out of the way, his own weapon slicing through the sand to catch his opponent's legs, tripping him up and sending the man tumbling to the ground to lay shocked in the sand, looking up at the clear blue sky and the Jedi that swept him.

"S-sorry..." Obi-Wan muttered, dropping his staff and quickly moving to help Novin up, grasping the man's hands and pulling him to his feet before he could object.

"All you Jedi move like that?" Novin grumbled, scratching the back of his neck and looking down at the discarded weapons, a slight flush on his cheeks that came more from embarrassment than from the heat.

"Only when our opponents aren't ready for it," Obi-Wan said with a small smile, his hand extended and calling the two staved to him, the weapons snapping to his palm and handing one of the weapons to Novin, the embarrassment quickly forgotten with the demonstration of a power he had never seen before, his friends equally interested, the other teen's blunder completely forgotten, as was the intent. "Come, you aren't warmed up. We'll stretch first, run through some drills, and then spar."

"...well, you heard the man," Novin quickly barked to his friends, the teenagers all jumping when they were addressed. "Grab a weapon, you lazy bastards, we have a training regimen to complete!" The young warrior's blunder completely forgotten, the Mandalorians quickly rushed to do Novin's bidding, and before long, the teenagers were running through a series of drills together led by Obi-Wan and Novin, the two switching off between basic Jedi and Mandalorian practice routines, the warriors quickly catching on to the foreign steps. Before long, they were all relaxed and ready, talking among each other and shedding their armor as the sun climbed higher in the sky. With their staves in hand, Obi-Wan and Novin stepped back into the ring.

Without a word to each other, Novin rushed forward, and Kenobi stepped out of the way like before, his staff moving to sweep at him yet again, but the Mandalorian had learned from last time and moved his leg out of the way, striking up at te Jedi as he evaded, and Obi-Wan blocked the strike with the center of his staff, the ends flipping around to strike at his opponent. The Mandalorian was ready for him this time, and with perfect timing that came from years and years of training, Novin met each of Obi-Wan's strikes with hits of his own. They aimed low and high with sweeping hits or swift jabs, the sticks spinning expertly in hands that had drilled endlessly with weapons since their youth, and Obi-Wan quickly recognized the Mandalorian to be a superior fighter, his technique nearly flawless, his each strike precise, and all done without the Force to use to his advantage as the Jedi did.

Occasionally, the slightest mistake would see one of them struck by the other, knocked to the ground, or disarmed, and after a moment to regroup to talk about the error and laugh about it, they would begin again. When they grew bored of the weapons they used, when the sparring between them had grown stale or the flow between them became too smooth and easy, making it impossible to land strikes against each other, they would switch weapons. The short staff, the kali stick, the training sword, hand to hand, blasters, each weapon provided a new chance for them to test themselves, the slightly altered step and style adjusted for the new weapon just unfamiliar enough to keep the sparring new and fresh and challenging.

So focused were the two boys that they didn't notice how slick with sweat the climbing sun and the tropical humidity was making them, how welts and bruises peppered their flushed skin from where their slipped guards or wrong steps led to the other striking them, how the impressive sparring of two skilled warriors was beginning to draw a crowd, a hundred eyes staring at them from under the shade of the roofed, open-air breeze way that surrounded the courtyard. Around them, other warriors had gathered to train as well, but it was half-hearted at best, their attention diverted to keep an eye on the Jedi and the young scion of Clan Cadera.

The two teens only stopped when Kenobi's practice sword sliced across Novin's stomach at the same time the Mandalorian's struck him right between the ribs, and laughing as they wiped the sweat from their brows, they stuck the swords into the sand and moved to the edge of the ring to take a break for water and to catch their breaths, the need made more pressing when they realized how hot it had become since they began. Obi-Wan gratefully accepted a damp cloth from one of Novin's friends, the Mandalorian boy chatting amicably about the Jedi's technique as Obi-Wan poured water over his head, the cool stream running over his bare shoulders. He flicked his braid over his shoulder and sighed in contentment as he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, his slowing heart jumping when he realized how many people were gathered around the courtyard, all eyes on him and his sparring companion.

"I think all the attention you're attracting is going to be good for me too," Novin said, his arm draping over the Jedi's shoulders and pointing up toward a balcony where several very finely dressed women stood watching them, and he flashed them a quick, charming smile before he turned to lead the Jedi once again into the training ring. "Mind you, I don't have any trouble with the ladies, but this is more attention than even I'm used to..."

"I suppose that's what happens when you're spending time with a curiosity..." Obi-Wan muttered, feeling his face burn with embarrassment.

"Oh, please," Novin scoffed with a roll of his eyes, his gaze drifting up to another balcony where others were gathered to watch, and he waved to a small group of particularly attractive teenage girls. "You are a damn fine warrior and very easy on the eyes. They're looking because they want you, Jedi." Novin laughed easily, patting the boy on the chest as he released him and indicated toward the balcony with his chin. "So, who's to your liking?"

"I-I don't want any of them..." Obi-Wan muttered, a bit too quickly, a bit too reflexive, and immediately, Novin's friends began laughing.

"See?" one of them said, a smug, almost triumphant look on his face. "No passion. Just like my father said. I bet he's never even been with a girl!"

"Don't get cocky just because you've gotten some poor idiot to let you take her to bed, Kassor. Your first time was last week." The other boys devolved into laughter, the embarrassed youth's face red and jaw clenched. "Is that so, Obi-Wan? Have you never been with a woman?"

"I-I was almost with Veela Ordo," the Jedi said defensively, stuttering over his own tongue, and the other boys muttered softly in what felt like comradery.

"Yeah, who hasn't been with that slut?" one of the boys asked, and Obi-Wan cast his eyes to the ground once again.

"Apparently, our Jedi friend hasn't," Novin said softly, sympathetically, and immediately, Obi-Wan felt that he could trust the Mandalorian. "Almost been with isn't the same as been with. She not your type?"

"N-not exactly..." The Jedi's discomfort was obvious, not helped by the laughing, gossiping group, and with a few harsh words to his friends, Novin sent them off to continue training, leaving himself alone in the middle of the sparring ring with Obi-Wan. Picking up the swords from where they had left them in the sand, Novin walked close to the other teen and handed him the weapon. "I didn't know the subject was uncomfortable for you," he whispered, earning himself a shy, grateful smile from Obi-Wan. "You Jedi are just so different from us. I confess I don't know much about your kind apart from the myths and rumors spread by the warriors that fought against you in the last war."

"It's not uncomfortable," Obi-Wan said, the nervousness in his voice gone as he took the weapon from the Mandalorian. "I've never been with a woman, not like that. The Jedi Order forbids us from falling in love, so..." Obi-Wan sighed heavily, his tongue suddenly tied, and he ran a hand through his sweat-slicked hair, his eyes drifting briefly to the crowd of onlookers before looking at Novin, feeling sympathy and understanding from the boy, so different from the likes of his warrior friends or the brutish Edric Ordo. He could trust him, at least with this. "Look, I...don't know how to please a woman, and I don't want to make a fool of myself if I...I-if we ever-"

"Stars above, you sound like a man in love," Novin drawled, lightly teasing as he leaned in toward the teenager, the smirk on his lips becoming a wide grin when the Jedi's silence and the bright red flush that seemed to spread all over his body confirmed it. "Well, who's the lucky girl?" Silence still, but this time a tense one, uncomfortable as the Jedi's toe dug into the compacted sand, and the smirk dropped off Novin's face, his eyes widening with understanding. "Oh...oh..."

Obi-Wan was silent, his eyes fixed on the ground and never leaving, not when he heard the Mandalorian softly curse, pace back and forth, draw closer, move away to yell at his sparring friends and critique their form and technique. The Jedi only moved when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Novin looking at him, no anger or fury on the Mandalorian's face, as he expected, but that same cocky, amused smirk that he had worn the entire afternoon, something behind his deep green eyes almost brimming with gentle understanding.

"Does anyone else know?" the Mandalorian asked, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but scoff.

"I thought I kept it a closely guarded secret, but it seems everywhere I go, you Mandalorians see it. It's like you have the Force in matters of love or something..."

"We are more perceptive than most when it comes to matters of the heart..." Novin said softly, lightly tapping the Jedi's arm with the broad side of his practice sword. "Speaking of the Force, you've been holding out on me, boy. All this time, all these hours of training, and not once have you used this...Force of yours."

"How do you know?" Obi-Wan asked with a slight, devious smirk on his lips. "Would you even be able to tell if I was?"

"...well, were you?"

"You're a better fighter than me, Novin," Obi-Wan whispered, the Mandalorian drawing closer to hear the soft-spoken teen. "You were raised to be a warrior, you have the temperament and the boldness I lack to excel at combat. The only reason I can even keep up is because the Force is my ally." He unconsciously touched the lightsaber on his hip, his eyes closing as he felt the Force, calm and warm and comforting. "The Force flows through me, influences my every movement, effects me even when I don't ask it to. It makes me stronger, faster, pushes my limits just past the boundaries of the possible. I can see things before they happen, I can feel your intentions, predict your movements before you make them. So yes, the Force was with me when we sparred together."

"...but you didn't even throw me across the yard or anything!" Novin complained, and the Jedi groaned and rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, but I thought the Force was...you know...woosh!" the Mandalorian said as he threw his hands into the air. "Magic powers! Wind from nowhere! The sun plunged into darkness, the seas rising in a torrent! Fire raining from the sky!"

"I'm...not sure the Force can do any of that...Novin, where are you getting your information?"

"I don't know, stories and legends passed down from the Mandalorian Wars. Look, that doesn't matter!" Novin said quickly, his hands tightly grabbing hold of the Jedi's shoulders, almost frantic for a moment before he lightened his grip and brushed the sand from Obi-Wan's pale skin. "What matters is that when we win this war, and we will win this war, then my people will not have cause to fight the Jedi anymore." He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous, almost uncomfortable laugh in his throat. "This could be my only chance to test myself against a Jedi, like our ancestors did for thousands and thousands of years."

"I'm not certain your Duchess would approve..." Obi-Wan muttered, turning the lightsaber over in his hands. "You must know how she loathes violence, and she despises your people's violent past. I can't imagine she'd like it if she knew you were taking such pride in fighting as your ancestors did."

"Look around you, Obi-Wan!" Novin said, his hand on the teenager's shoulder and gesturing to the people watching from the balconies and breeze ways. "These people came to see the might of a Jedi! Show them what they want, show them what the Jedi are made of!"

"Alright, see, that seems a lot like boasting and arrogance, and my Master wouldn't like that." Obi-Wan chuckled and shook his head, peering up at the Mandalorian with a modest smile on his face. "I wouldn't like that. A Jedi is supposed to be humble, and I may not be the best Jedi, or even a good one, but...I-I try to follow the Code." His hand clenched around his lightsaber, his arm trembling and his eyes squeezed shut. With a sigh, Novin laid his hand upon the trembling Jedi's shoulder.

"It's just training, buddy, alright?" he whispered. "You and me and nothing else, nobody else here matters, alright? I take it you need to practice with the weapons you actually use, so have at it. You, me, my blaster, your laser sword, and anything else we can come up with."

"...alright," Obi-Wan said, taking a few deep breaths, finally looking at the Mandalorian and striking on his lightsaber, the blade bursting to life in a flash of blue, the Mandalorian looking at it in awe for a moment before a sly grin crossed his face, drawing his twin blasters and adjusting the setting to the lowest level.

"Between bouts, Obi-Wan," Novin drawled, a cocky swagger to his step as he slowly backed away, "I'll teach you how to pleasure a woman."

"Y-you'd do that for me?" Obi-Wan gasped, a deep flush coming to his cheeks, and the Mandalorian laughed, his arms spread wide as he took his place on his side of the ring.

"Our Duchess deserves the best, Jedi. Come now. Best not to disappoint her."

---

"I hear, Ressa," the tall, brown haired beauty said, "that before the war, you tasted Jakal Sharratt."

"Oh, please," Ressa said with a roll of her eyes, crossing one of her long legs over the other. "The only one I know of that has tasted Jakal Sharratt is your older brother." The small salon erupted with feminine laughter, the group of girls gathered sitting in a circle as they talked and gossiped and among them, Satine sat with her hands folded tightly in her lap, her ears burning with embarrassment at the brashness of the other girls, mostly teenagers, some younger, but mostly older, all of them battle hardened, all of them old friends with sexual pleasure as was expected from their warriors.

It was what she wanted. In place of her missing sister, her slaughtered family, her dead friends, Satine wanted other girls to speak to, girls her age to share their experiences with men so she may be more comfortable, so she could be brave enough to push past her fear and anxiety so she could go further with her timid Jedi. If it was only that, it would be no trouble, but her Obi-Wan was shy and uncertain, bound to a Code that forbid exactly what they wanted from each other, and she didn't want to scare him away. Any sign of fear or uncertainty and her gentleman Jedi would come to his senses and refuse to cross the line they were forbidden to cross. She had to learn, and this was how.

She wasn't prepared for how...explicit her new friends were.

"You know, we can leave at any time..." Qui-Gon muttered next to her, the man rolling his eyes when another peal of laughter rippled through the room. "This is hardly the place for someone of your breeding, Duchess, these women are crass..."

"And they are still my people, Qui-Gon..." Satine said through clenched teeth. "And furthermore, I want to be here. This is a part of being Mandalorian, part of the passion of our culture, and a part that I wish to embrace, thank you very much." With a soft, frustrated groan, the Jedi slunk down further in his chair, but said nothing more, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked with disgusted boredom at the other woman, several of who were leering at him. With a small, grateful smile, Satine put her hand on Qui-Gon's arm and gently squeezed, suddenly sorry that her protector was forced to endure the throng of lustful women.

"And you, Duchess?" one of the women asked, leaning in like she was waiting on the answer of some great secret, and Satine sat up straight, her posture rigid. "You're popular enough with the men here, and you spent months on the run with your Jedi...protectors," she drawled, her eyes raking over the grumbling Qui-Gon. "Maybe not this Jedi, but the young one is kriffing hot."

"I wouldn't mind having a piece of him," one of the others purred to the eager agreement of the others.

"I wouldn't mind having a piece of this one," another one said, her eyelids lowered seductively as she looked at the Master and licked her lips, the Jedi evenly meeting her gaze with cold disinterest that did nothing to dissuade her as he had hoped.

"So what is it like to taste a Jedi, Duchess?" the one called Ressa asked, a sly smirk on her lips, and Satine could feel Qui-Gon bristle beside her. "Does their gift with the Force gift them in other ways?"

"The Jedi are forbidden from such things," Qui-Gon said swiftly, his voice tight with tension, and Satine shot him a quick glare.

"I can answer for myself, Master Jinn," the Duchess said sharply, and Qui-Gon inclined his head toward her and muttered a swift, sardonic apology. With a tense smile, Satine looked at the group of women. "Jedi are forbidden from such things," Satine said sweetly. "My Jedi protectors are exactly that. Protectors."

"So he's available?" one of the teens asked excitedly, the same question echoed by the other women in the circle, and Satine flushed, stammered over her words as she felt her heart beat faster with the sudden fear that any one of these beautiful women, so much more experienced than her, could easily coax her shy Jedi protector into their arms.

"W-well, no, he's not allowed!" Satine said almost frantically. "And he's dedicated to my protection, he has no time-" The door to the room suddenly flew open, a hard breathing girl no more then twelve years old wearing the black and white of Clan Cadera standing in the doorway, panting as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Ressa," the girl gasped through deep lung fulls of air, "our brother is in the central courtyard sparring with the Jedi. He has a laser sword and magic powers and it's amazing! Like one of the stories, you have to come see!" She bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet, and with a groan, Qui-Gon rose when the Duchess did, the girl suddenly nervous with the prospect of Obi-Wan hurt the way he was on Ordo. "He has battle scars, sister, he's not wearing a shirt, you can see all of them!"

"Well, not all of them," Qui-Gon scoffed with a roll of his eyes, the snide comment going unheard when the entire group of women swiftly rose from their seats and rushed out the door, running after their young messenger toward the courtroom. Before Qui-Gon could stop her, Satine bolted from the room after them, leaving the Jedi to gruff and grumble as he jogged after his charge down the open walkways.

The rapid sound of showering sparks, thrumming plasma and crackling electricity filled the air and grew louder and louder as they approached the courtyard, and after pushing past the throng of spectators, Qui-Gon and Satine stepped out into the clearing to see Obi-Wan Kenobi, his blue saber in hand as he clashed with Novin Cadera, the Mandalorian wielding an electrostaff in his skilled hands. The weapons clashed rapidly, sparks flying and showering the fine sand of the training ring as blue plasma struck purple electricity, the two men focused as they danced around each other, the occasional extension of Obi-Wan's hand sending the Mandalorian skidding backwards as an invisible force pushed him, the activation of Novin's vambraces producing a glowing plasma grappling line that forced the Jedi to retreat as he evaded it.

The combat was fast and athletic, almost a thing of beauty as the blazing saber left trails of soft blue light in its wake, the purple sparking electricity of the electrostaff leaving charges of static arching through the thick, humid air, their every step flawless, their movements precise, each dodge just enough to evade, but not enough to leave an opening. It was a thing of beauty, one that held the spectators in rapt attention of the two teens as they clashed, their focus intense like they were the only people in the world, their young bodies almost tireless as they danced around each other. The staff spun and swept, always in twisting motion, always seeming to redirect the Jedi's saber with swift, fluid motion, the saber stabbing and slashing as it made to slip past the Mandalorian's guard.

It was only when Novin spun, the momentum carrying his staff enough for him to draw his blaster, that Obi-Wan disengaged, the saber grasped in both hands as he switched stances to effortlessly deflect the blaster bolts, the red plasma charges bouncing off the blue blade and striking the sand behind Novin as he ran. When the charges were expended, the Mandalorian grasped his vambrace and fired the repulsor, the shock wave a technological mimicry of the Jedi's Force push, and Obi-Wan met the force with a blast of his own, his hand extended and splayed as he slammed the Force against the imitation. The result was an almost violent explosion of colliding energy that threw sand into the air and knocked both Jedi and Mandalorian backwards, Novin quickly rolling to leap quickly to his feet, the Jedi flipping in the air and righting himself before he even landed. The moment their feet were once again on the ground, both boys rushed forwards to clash again in a magnificent flurry of sparks and light, the hiss of clashing plasma filling the courtyard.

And that was when Satine had enough.

"What is the meaning of this?!" the Duchess sharply demanded, striding into the training ring, and with a gasp, his eyes widening as his focus was redirected to the object of his affections, Obi-Wan dropped to one knee, Novin's staff swinging just over his head, the saber planted in the ground and the plasma hissing as the fine sand that touched the blade melted and hardened into glass-like, black stone as it was pushed away from the weapon. Cursing under his breath, Novin quickly did likewise, the staff's current switched off and laying across his knee, his eyes drifting to the cowed Jedi at his side as the teen fumbled with shaking fingers to turn off his own saber. For just a moment, Obi-Wan ventured a look at his Duchess, his heart aching and yearning for the girl he hadn't seen in days, only to quickly avert his eyes once again when he found her to be furious.

"Duchess!" Novin said, light and easy, attempting to diffuse the tension the girl's anger was causing. "Have you come to watch your protector and I train?"

"Oh, is that what this is?" she asked almost bitterly, her eyes flicking up to look at the enormous crowd gathered. "Forgive me, but I didn't realize that training was a spectator sport."

"I told you..." Obi-Wan hissed under his breath, Novin quickly looking at the young Jedi before rising to his feet to stand before Satine.

"Duchess, most of us have never seen a Jedi before," Novin quietly explained. "And after hearing about his actions on Zanbar against the Death Watch and his, quite frankly, miraculous defense of you, the opportunity to see what he could do was too much to pass up."

"My Jedi," she whispered between clenched teeth, "is not here for your amusement, Novin Cadera! Look at this!" she snapped, gesturing to the gathered crowd. "This is reminiscent of our ancient gladiatorial arenas, this is blood sport!" She raised her hand for silence when Novin began to protest, and the teen fell silent, slowly sinking back to his knees beside the heartbroken Jedi. "Even if nobody was hurt, even if this wasn't your intention, even if this was just training, this fascination with fighting and combat and violence is why we are in this bloody war to begin with! How am I supposed to change Mandalore when my own allies cling to the violence of our past?!"

"It's...a fair point, Duchess..." Novin sighed. "I will take care to remember that in the future, but right now, we are fighting a war. If we are to win, we must train to sharpen our skills, or our enemies, who I assure you are constantly practicing, will destroy us."

"I am not object to training!" Satine snapped, her temper only rising further. "I object to the spectacle you two have made of your childish challenge! Obi-Wan!" The Jedi's eyes snapped up to Satine, nervous and hopeful and for just a moment, his heart beat faster, his entire being filled with contentment and excitement at seeing her again. "I expect my people to need to be corrected like children in order to change their ways because what I ask of them is so foreign to everything they have ever known, but you...you should know better."

"I...apologize, Satine..." Obi-Wan said in a low, hoarse whimper, his voice wavering as he struggled to bury his emotions and his gaze flicking to the saber held tightly in his hands, unable to look at her. Satine felt immediately guilty, her chest aching as she watched her beautiful Jedi retreat back into himself, behind the walls she had worked so hard to break. She mentally kicked herself for being so harsh with them, her passion overriding her sense when a cool head would have done more to help make her point. She sighed, her hands clasped before her and her fingers fiddling as she tried to hide her guilt and her remorse, fearing it would come across as weakness to her people. She needed to stand by what she had said, lest she look fickle to those who supported her.

"The last person that wished to test my Jedi was Edric Ordo, and that brute nearly killed him," Satine said, more gently than before. "I understand it's not the same, but he is...important to me and too often have I seen him wounded for my sake..." she whispered, stepping closer and running her fingers lightly over the scar on Obi-Wan's shoulder, and the Jedi shivered., his eyes shut tightly and his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"Noted, Duchess," Novin said loudly, enough for his voice to carry over the courtyard, his eyes locking with his older sister in the crowd and gesturing for her support. "In the future, we shall take care to make certain that your soldiers are training instead of gawking like a bunch of children."

"Pick up a weapon or get out of my courtyard!" Ressa commanded as she pushed her way forward, snatching the electrostaff from her brother's hand and looking down at Obi-Wan, and immediately, the spectators began moving, some coming forward with sparring partners to train as well, others leaving to go about their business. She lightly tapped Obi-Wan with the end of the staff, the startled boy almost jumping as he gasped and looked up at the stunningly beautiful woman. "Shall we?" she asked, her voice low and almost seductive. "I'd like to have a taste of you as well, you beautiful thing..."

"W-what?!" Satine gasped, looking between the warrior as she shed her fine silk tunic, exposing her bare midriff, her slender waist, the tanned skin over a taut, strong stomach, and the shocked, wide-eyed Jedi Padawan. "N-no, Ressa, this isn't what I meant, h-he isn't-"

"He is a warrior, Duchess, dedicated to serving you, which means he must keep up his training so that he may continue to serve you well," the Mandalorian drawled, spinning the staff in her hand and accustoming herself to the weight. "And I can't let my brother be the only one to train with your little protector, the spiteful brat would lord it over me forever."

"I would not..." Novin grumbled, his arms crossed over his chest and glaring at the older woman.

"You most certainly would," Ressa said sweetly, a sardonic smile on her face that made her brother fume. "Duchess, we have taken care of the spectators, which was your primary concern, yes?" Satine sputtered for a moment, trying to find the words or the reasons why she couldn't allow this, the pull of jealousy struggling for a way to keep the smart and beautiful Ressa Cadera from her Obi-Wan, but even she couldn't find a way to justify keeping her protector from the training he needed to keep him sharp. With a heavy sigh, Satine nodded her head, and the older girl grinned and tapped her staff against the Jedi's shoulder.

"Come, boy. You're going to show me your lightsaber, yes?" Biting down hard on his lip, Obi-Wan tore his gaze from her and stared at the ground, his face furiously flushed as he held out his weapon to the laughing girl. "Oh, you sweet thing, we'll make a man of you yet, I promise."

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said softly when Ressa sauntered away to the other side of the training ring, her tagalong group of girls following closely behind her and making eyes at the young Jedi. Obi-Wan quickly turned to face his master, his gaze flicking up for only a moment before he looked back at the ground, unwilling to bear the frustration of the Duchess at his Master's side.

"M-Master..."

"Are you having fun?" Holding his breath, Obi-Wan chanced a look up at Qui-Gon and found the Jedi amused and contented, and he felt himself relax considerably, the emotional turmoil of the Duchess quickly forgotten in the presence of his Master's calm.

"Yes, Master," he said quietly, a slight smile touching his lips. "It's not the same as it was back home, but...training with Novin Cadera is a bit like training with Quinlan." He sighed wistfully, the slight pain in his chest more bittersweet than painful. "I...miss him. I miss home, and I miss peace, and I know I shouldn't because we're not supposed to feel attached, but-"

"Peace, Obi-Wan, I know," Qui-Gon said softly, drawing the Duchess closer to him when he felt the girl tremble, her jealousy quickly forgotten in the face of the sudden longing for her own home and the family she had lost. "One day, this war will be over and we'll have the peace we deserve. We'll all see home again."

"Y-yes..." the Padawan muttered, the warmth he felt within him tempered when he looked at Satine, the reminder that when they achieved peace, their time together would be over. It was bittersweet, made him ache, and while he couldn't bring himself to hope that peace would keep its distance for a little while longer, he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if he and Satine could stay together.

"There's a social event tonight," Qui-Gon continued. "You are, of course, more than welcome to attend. I'm certain minding the ship all day gets tiresome."

"I-is it safe?" Obi-Wan asked, and his attention quickly shot to Satine when the young Duchess scoffed.

"Of course it's safe, Obi-Wan, don't be foolish," Satine dismissed, harsher than she intended, and when the Jedi looked away, his jaw clenched tightly as he fought back the desire to snap back and begin one of their all too frequent arguments, she sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I am requesting your presence, Obi-Wan. I will be safer with both Jedi present."

"A-as you wish..." Obi-Wan muttered, his breath unconsciously held as his heart began to pound with excitement.

"Just make certain you clean yourself up before you attend," Satine said, her nose wrinkling as she looked the flushed and sweating boy over. "Honestly, Obi-Wan, you look like a peasant."

"Well, we can't all be royalty, Highness," the Padawan shot back, and before the Duchess' temper could get the better of her and the two began fighting in sight of hundreds of people, Qui-Gon grabbed the girl's arm and began to pull her away.

"Well, we have a fair bit that must be done before tonight," the Master said swiftly, shooting warning glares to both his teenage charges. "Take care in your training, Obi-Wan. It won't do to have you returned to me bruised and beaten."

"I'll do my best to preform in a way that you would be proud of, Master."

"You always do," Qui-Gon said softly, and without another word, he pulled Satine away from the sparring ring to attend to their duties, though the Duchess couldn't help herself from looking over her shoulder at Obi-Wan, her eyes raking over the strong, lean muscles of his back, and she silently wished she could have spent more time in his company.

---

Obi-Wan did not enjoy social gatherings. He was a simple man, a solitary man, and while he would never consider himself a loaner, he was quiet, would rather spend his time in meditation or contemplation than be surrounded by people and noise. He has always been anxious and insecure, and large groups only made the introverted boy uncomfortable. The Jedi as a whole were not solitary creatures, but all the same, they were not exactly ones that threw parties or social events, their own gatherings leaning more toward the quiet and the civilized, much to the chagrin of Kenobi's wild friend Quinlan Vos, but for himself and many others, the calm nature of their gatherings were somewhat comforting, even though Obi-Wan always found them a touch stressful.

Even still, he always liked to blend in, keep himself out of the center of attention, which he found both uncomfortable and stressful, a place he felt better suited to those more boastful than him. It was a thing that spoke to him of arrogance and pride, something that the Jedi eschewed, which was just as well, since Obi-Wan never cared for attention or accolades, would rather go quietly through life as an observer of the beautiful things around him, watching the Force at work through all that lived. As such, if he was forced to endure social functions, as was occasionally expected of him in the line of duty, he tried to keep out of the center of things and attract as little attention to himself as possible. It only made him anxious and nervous, made him long for the peace and quiet of his solitude where he could meditate and feel the calm, comforting embrace of the Force.

The Mandalorians were having none of it.

The moment Obi-Wan arrived at the event that evening, he was surrounded by sensual, flirtatious women and young, excitable men boasting of his exploits in the training ring that day, each telling only becoming more and more outrageous, and before long, the Jedi didn't even recognize himself in the tales they told. More alcohol than he had even seen in his life was thrust at him, urging him to drink his fill and prove himself to be a man, none of which he accepted, though his quiet, polite refusals did nothing to get the Mandalorians to stop. They were a people that believed that if a person was old enough to fight, they were old enough to drink and old enough to take another to bed, and so far as Kenobi could tell, those three things were all they spoke of.

Everywhere he went, he was faced with women trying to pull him into secluded corners to become intimate with him, promises of what they would do to him that became more and more explicit as the evening went on, touching that wouldn't be welcome in any situation. His every attempt to escape only found him cornered with slender, beautiful bodies pressed against him that he frantically tried to peel away, every corner he turned saw him run into another group of men that eagerly pulled him within their ranks to talk about his imaginary exploits. All he wanted to do was find Satine, and every attempt found him growing more and more anxious in the haze of lowered inhibitions and lust, passions unchained and unrestricted, the Force itself feeling hazy and strange to him, enough to suffocate the anxious, introverted boy until even hiding behind his walls didn't feel safe.

In his desperation, Obi-Wan quietly used a soft, gently push of the Force on his admirers, just enough to turn their attention elsewhere for a moment, and slowly, he began to make his way to the edge of the massive room. When he was certain he was not being watched, he slipped past a closed door, shutting it quickly behind him, leaving him in the dark and breathing deeply in relief when the noise muffled, the thick smell of alcohol and desire abated. With a soft groan as he ran his hands over his face, Obi-Wan quietly shuffled through the hall, passing serving staff as they refilled glasses and worked behind the scenes t keep the party supplied. For the most part, they ignored him, enough for the worn Jedi to find his way to a stairwell that took him to the second floor, and he slowly pushed a door open, peeked beyond, and sighed in relief when he saw it led to a balcony overlooking the room where the party was held.

Obi-Wan quietly stepped out on to the balcony and shut the door behind him, carefully peering over the edge and sighing in relief when he found that his position afforded him a perfect vantage point of the entire party, though he would be very difficult to see from below. Taking a deep breath, the Jedi leaned against the wall, finally allowing his heart to beat slower as his anxiety was pushed to the back of his mind, a low him rather than the deafening buzz it had been before. It was where he was most comfortable, one of the group but never truly part of it, an observer, distant and removed, granting him a perspective impossible to achieve while actively involved. There was no peace here, no calm among the Mandalorians, but there was life, brilliant and blinding as it burned like a thousand stars. It was truly a thing of beauty, one that Obi-Wan had come to appreciate in his time here, one of the comforts he could take when he was surrounded by so much death. Even in the face of violence, the Mandalorian spirit was never diminished, their fires never burning low, only brighter in the face of adversity.

The Jedi had always said that passion clouded judgement, got in the way of what needed to be done, more often than not led people down the wrong path, but the Jedi never told him that passion could be admirable and beautiful, a flame in the dark, lovely and wild and warm in the cold face of death. They never told him that such passion could sweep away his heart and hold it in her tender, lovely, gentle hands. They never told him how good it felt to hold it close, safe and secret and deep within him, his own small flame to carefully tend behind his passionless walls of ice, enough to light his way and keep him warm at night thinking of nothing but her...

"Obi-Wan."

"Oh, holy shit!" Obi-Wan cried, quickly reeling around and backing up into the railing and nearly toppling over, his hand swiftly reaching out to grab hold of the banister to keep himself from falling. He nearly jumped again, every muscle in his body tensing when he felt something touch his shoulder, soft and sweet and concerned, and his already rapidly beating heart seemed to beat even faster. He laughed nervously, his hand wrapping around his braid as he looked into light blue eyes he knew all too well.

"Satine..." he gasped, a smile coming to his lips as his breath slowed, his momentary panic abating, and with a smile of her own, the Duchess reached up and stroked his cheek.

"I hear there was a Jedi in the yard today that fought and slew a mythosaur after he bested all of Clan Cadera's finest warriors..." the Duchess drawled, and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and groaned.

"I'd very much like to meet this man. To do all your people are saying he's done in one afternoon!" Obi-Wan whistled, the Duchess laughing softly and smiling at the Jedi in a way that made his heart ache. "And all this while being invisible. To think, I was in the yard the entire day and didn't see a thing." The small smile on her lips broke into a wide grin, and Obi-Wan felt himself flush with desire for her, the need to be with her stronger than he had felt in days.

"I feel it has been forever since we have last been alone together..." she whispered, drawing closer and her breath catching in her throat when Obi-Wan placed her hand on his heart and covered it with his own. "I've missed you these past few days."

"I admit, it has been odd not having you to watch over..." the Jedi muttered, and Satine softly laughed, taking her hands from Obi-Wan and leaning on the wall beside him, her fingers twirling around his braid and allowing the fine strand to slide over her palm.

"I'm not the only one that has been missing you. I'm certain Qui-Gon has had enough of following me around," she said, straightening the folds on the Jedi's robes and stroking his chest. "All the meetings, all the social events with the girls my age, and I do believe he is fed up with teenage girls forever," she said, leaning her head against Obi-Wan's chest and breathing deeply, the crisp, clean smell of fresh linen and the soft fragrance of spice flooding her senses. "They won't leave him alone. He's turning down women who wish to bed him every hour of the day. At least."

"I am certain he loves that," Obi-Wan softly chuckled, reaching up to touch the elegant braid Satine had done her hair in, but quickly withdrew his hand, afraid to ruin the intricate work. "Honestly, for a people that has been enemies of the Jedi for most of their history, your people are certainly keen on taking us to bed," Obi-Wan said, running his hand through his hair and watching nervously as he felt jealousy and desire spike through the Duchess.

"You're...something new," Satine said after a moment. "That alone is enough for my people to want to bed you, you're exotic, and it gives them something to talk about." She scoffed softly, her gaze drifting out over the room at the people down below. "Honestly, that alone is enough for them, but to know you are a warrior, and a fine one at that..."

"I'm no warrior, Satine," the Jedi said softly, but a cold, steely glare from the Duchess quickly silenced him.

"You are, Obi-Wan. You fight for peace, which is an amusing contradiction, but still, you fight."

"...I fight for you, Satine..." Obi-Wan whispered, crossing his arms over his chest and moving away from her, his back pressed against the opposite wall as he leaned against it, the few feet between them seeming so much larger for the ache in their chests. "I never wanted to fight, I'm no good at it, but I do because it was asked of me, because you needed protection." He sighed heavily, his eyes cast at the ground to avoid looking at the woman. "I do it for you...for the Mandalore you envision, so one day, your people won't have to fight."

"...I know," Satine sighed, carefully pushing off the wall and tentatively approaching the anxious, nervous Jedi, her fingers lightly brushing against his, testing if the contact was welcome, and when Obi-Wan shuddered, a desperate whimper torn from his throat, she smiled and stepped closer, her fingers intertwining with his. "It wasn't an accusation, Obi. Despite my beliefs, I know what is required to win this war, and while I won't engage in violence myself, I understand that in order to put our violent past behind us, we must fight for it. Do you think me completely unreasonable?"

"Well..." Obi-Wan squeaked, gazing up at the ceiling as he thought and doing all he could to keep the amused smile off his face when he knew the girl was pouting. "Not completely, but it is admittedly difficult to tell sometimes..."

"You're a terrible little shit, just like your Master says!"

"...wait, what?! Qui-Gon doesn't say that about me!" Obi-Wan gasped, completely aghast at the very notion, and he was met only with a small, devious smirk from the Duchess, the girl pressing her body against his and letting her long fingers lightly trace their way down his chest.

"He does say so," she drawled teasingly, standing on her toes and leaning up to bring her face close to his. "All the time." Satine kissed the tip of Obi-Wan's nose and watched as the boy flushed, felt his heart jump, the rise and fall of his chest quicken, the bright blue of his eyes fill with longing that made her feel like she was the only thing he saw. "I...was a bit harsh with you this afternoon," she whispered, tearing her eyes from his and absently stroking his sides, his ribs easily felt, even through the thick fabric of his robes. "I've had to be nothing but hard and commanding with my people these past few days. They do not respond to anything less, they view it as weakness."

"Being hard is not the same as strength, Satine," Obi-Wan said slowly and carefully, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand, and he smiled when she leaned into his touch. "A metal so hard that it does not bend will break. That isn't strength, that's weakness."

"Jedi saying?" Satine asked, her eyebrow arched, and Obi-Wan smiled gently.

"Paraphrased, but yes."

"I think my people would disagree, but...I like it," she said softly, absently running Obi-Wan's braid through her fingers. "I'm still learning how to rule my people, but I will keep that in mind." She pressed her lips to the Jedi's throat and Obi-Wan gasped, his hands moving quickly to pull her closer and closing his eyes when desire for her rushed through his blood. "I am sorry, Obi-Wan. About this afternoon, I really am. I dislike violence, but...watching you is a thing of beauty."

"That is largely because of Novin Cadera..." Obi-Wan muttered, flushing modestly and looking away from the woman pressed against him. "He is talented enough to make even an amateur look good."

"I'm not the only one that thinks so, Obi," Satine said slowly, pulling away from the Jedi slightly so she could get a better look at him. "Basically every girl I see is talking about you, and I know you were working with Ressa Cadera for some time..." She eyed him suspiciously, nervous to ask further, but she had to know, the jealousy she felt for the eldest child of Clan Cadera still burning deep within her. "She is...very beautiful, and she made no secret of her desire to extend your sparring session into her bedroom..." Obi-Wan stared at her for a moment completely confused before his face turned beat red, his hand instinctively going to pull on his braid in his sudden state of high anxiety.

"You think I...w-with her?!" Obi-Wan gasped, flustered and tongue-tied and barely able to wrap his head around the notion.

"...w-well, did you?" the Duchess asked when the Jedi said nothing else. "If not her, with another girl. You could, you could have any of them. There isn't a girl on this planet that wouldn't give themselves to you in a second!"

"...w-what about you?" Obi-Wan stuttered, his eyes wide and pleading as he looked at her, and Satine couldn't keep her heart from pounding so hard she was certain the Jedi could hear it.

"Don't be silly..." she whispered, so soft she could barely hear herself. "You know very well that I have no fascination with warriors like my people do..."

"...I-I didn't take anyone to bed with me," Obi-Wan said quietly, his fingers lightly tracing Satine's jaw and gently hooking under her chin. "Did you?" he asked, the girl's eyes widening with shock as she drew back and looked at him with disbelief. "You've been very busy these past few days, and you have had many suitors, and most of them are undeniably handsome."

"How dare you!" she gasped, almost disgusted with the question. "You've no right to ask me something like that!"

"W-what? You asked me first!"

"But I am a lady, and a noble no less!" the Duchess said, raising her head pridefully. "Such a question is highly inappropriate!"

"For anyone other than a Mandalorian," Obi-Wan drawled, his arms crossing over his chest. "All you people are about is violence and sex! Sometimes at the same time!" He huffed, his hand running through his hair before his shoulders slumped, and with a heavy sigh, he looked at the Duchess with eyes that seemed almost wounded to her. Unable to look at her without his mind racing with images of her and other men naked and deep within her, Obi-Wan took to quietly examining the party beneath them, the large, untouched chairs on the balcony with them, the small table pressed up against the wall with a flute of wine upon it. "Where did you leave my Master?" he asked softly, changing the topic away from the distinctly uncomfortable one of before.

"I...slipped away when he was busy fending off another group of his admirers," Satine muttered, watching the Jedi as he walked to the other wall and silently picked her glass from off the table and returned it to her, her fingers delicately grasping the thin stem.

"That wasn't very responsible..." Obi-Wan chided, and Satine rolled her eyes. "What if something happened to you while you were out of our sight?"

"I have every confidence that were I to be in trouble, you would come to my rescue," she explained with a smirk as she pat the Jedi's cheek. "In any case, attacking me in a place like this while I am surrounded by thousands who are watching me would be profoundly idiotic."

"Maybe so..." Obi-Wan muttered, looking back out at the party down below. "Why did you come up here, Satine?" he asked gently, looking at her out f the corner of his eye as she leaned over the railing, the wine swirling in her glass. For a moment, she didn't answer, a silent, almost bitter laugh in her chest for a moment before she sighed, her gaze shifting to the dark red liquid in her glass.

"I thought to be alone..." she muttered, her voice soft and distant, her eyes closed as she took deep, even breaths. "For months, since this war began, I have never been truly alone, not for a moment. I...thought I might escape, if not for a moment..." She laughed softly, a shy and uncertain thing that made Obi-Wan's heart skip a beat and something within him tug with sympathy and understanding. "Yourself?"

"Crowds make me uncomfortable," he said with an easy shrug, and Satine laughed, shook her head as she smiled at him, a soft and genuine thing that he hadn't known he was missing until just now. "Have you been drinking much?" he asked, pointing to her glass, and the girl flushed, embarrassed for a moment before she put the glass back on the table.

"None at all," she muttered, her finger gently twirling her intricate braid. "I learned my lesson with Edric Ordo. I too easily lose myself, and this would be an easy crowd for me to do something I would regret." The Duchess chuckled softly when she saw the skeptical Jedi look over at the full glass on the table. "It's easier to carry the glass around, or they don't stop offering."

"...oh, that's clever, I didn't think of that..."

"Of course you didn't, you're far too honest," Satine said, grinning when a deep flush spread across the Jedi's face, his fingers twirling around his braid, and before she could stop herself, she placed her hand on his shoulder and pressed him against the wall, her other hand dragging a soft, tortured moan out of him as she stroked his leg. "I didn't take anyone to bed with me, Obi," she breathlessly confessed. "How could I? There's...something between us, I don't want anyone else..."

Before Obi-Wan knew what he was doing, he had cupped Satine's face in his hands, his thumbs running over her high cheek bones and tracing the deep, red flush upon them before he pressed his lips to hers, moaning as he deepened it, more hungry for her than he had ever been. Perhaps it was their time apart that made him long for her all the more, or the atmosphere in the air, thick and heavy with the passion of the Mandalorians, or simply that she had been so perfect, so beautiful coming into her own, assuming the role she was always meant for. Or it was simpler than that. Simply being near her, the knowledge that she wanted him as much as he wanted her was enough to drive him mad, to make him so willing to allow pleasure and desire to pool deep inside him, a perfect reflection of what he felt in her.

They both allowed themselves to let go, parting only for breath as the kisses shared between them became deeper, consuming, hungry as they devoured each other. Wandering hands and needy touches that urged the other closer and closer to the line they had drawn roved over each other's body, exploring in a way that they hadn't before, and Obi-Wan could feel himself quickly react to the Duchess' touch, suddenly a seductive, promising one where before it had been timid and nervous. She was pushing further and faster than either of them ever had, want and desire and need and jealousy and so, so many other emotions making her careless and blind to where they were, but her passion only made Obi-Wan focused, anxious and insecure as he so often became when faced with overwhelming feelings he didn't know what to do with. As always, reason asserted itself withing one of them to the frustration of the other, and delicately kissing her cheek, Obi-Wan pulled away from the Duchess, his hands on her shoulders holding the desperately moaning, frustrated girl at arm's length.

"You were kind enough to stop me last time we were about to do something very foolish..." Obi-Was said softly, a gentle, almost sad smile on his face as his fingers stroked at the aroused girl's neck. "Allow me to return the favor."

"This isn't foolish, it is right," Satine whimpered, almost whined as she wriggled in his grasp, her gaze following his when he looked away, and she froze when she saw the people below her, as if she had suddenly remembered where she was, and that they were very, very much not alone.

"I do agree with that..." Obi-Wan whispered, leaning his forehead against hers and running his fingers down her long, slender neck, the calming influence of the Force upon him, and under his touch, he could feel the girl tremble, fighting everything in her being that was making her reckless and maddeningly needy for the touch of her Jedi, and slowly, she relaxed, her shoulders slumped, and Obi-Wan pulled her into a gentle, protective embrace.

"You are infuriating, you know that?" she muttered gratefully against his chest, sighing in satisfaction when she heard a deep, easy chuckle reverberate through him.

"No less than you are to me, I assure you, you are a constant source of anxiety and agitation." He kissed the top of her head, his hands slowly petting her back, delighting in the smooth, warm feel of her skin beneath the exposed back of the dress she wore. "You know that the moment we become close, Qui-Gon appears out of nowhere trying to catch us. I'd have for this to end simply because we were careless, and since you gave him the slip, I think he may be looking harder than usual."

"He must know by now..." Satine muttered petulantly, her fingers entwining with Obi-Wan's braid and tugging on the strand to bring him down closer to her, the Jedi gasping softly as she lay a gentle, chaste kiss upon his lips.

"Honestly, I would be surprised if he didn't know. It seems everyone I speak to can see right through me to the feelings I keep for you." Obi-Wan scoffed softly in mock irritation as he rolled his eyes, a faint smile on his lips when Satine laughed softly against him, her hands gently smoothing out his robes as she placed a kiss to the pit of his neck. "And I thought I did such a good job of holding them close and secret..."

"My people are uniquely gifted when it comes to matters of passion," Satine muttered, watching the emotions play across her Jedi's handsome face as he sighed, relaxing under the feel of her touch. "Everybody already knows, would it be so bad if Qui-Gon found out? As you said, he must already know, or at the very least, he suspects, or he wouldn't be trying so hard to catch is. What do you suppose he'd do if he knew?"

"If he knew?" Obi-Wan repeated thoughtfully. "If he knew because he caught us?" The Duchess nodded, and with a heavy sigh, he leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes staring at the junction of the wall and the ceiling as he considered the question, his hand absently stroking down the length of the Duchess' arm. "...I don't know. I suspect he'd make us stop." Obi-Wan gently took her hand and brought her fingertips to his lips. "Remind me of my commitment to the Jedi, your duty to your people, the path these feelings may set me upon..."

"Any one of those things may as well be a thousand reasons we shouldn't be together..." Satine murmured bitterly, a pout on her face even as Obi-Wan drew her closer and leaned down, his forehead pressed to hers as he slowly traced his finger down the length of her spine.

"All reasons for another time, not for now, not for this moment..." Obi-Wan whispered, a soft sigh on his lips as he felt Satine's heart beating in time with his own, and he closed his eyes, reveled in the feel of her against him and the pulse of emotion that rushed through her that mirrored the flow of the Force within his own being. "All those things will one day come between us, when I leave this place to become a Jedi Knight, when you take your throne to rule over your people. When this war is over, our time together will be at an end." He could feel her body tense against his, the hand in his hair balling into a fist, and he didn't need to look at her to know the pain that lay in her eyes, because he felt it as well. "But we are together now, and I...I-I don't want to go through my whole life wishing I had made the most of our precious time together. You have...bettered me, Satine. Feeling these things with you have helped me grow, and I will carry the memory of it with me for the rest of my life. The weight of regret for turning away from this isn't one I want to bear."

"Even though it will be painful to lose it?"

"Even then," the Jedi whispered, barely audible as he stroked Satine's cheek, a gentle smile on his lips that spoke both of the delight of the things he felt now and the ache of what it would be when it was gone. "Nothing lasts forever, Satine. All things in this life come and go, and it is our privilege to enjoy and experience the things the Force brings into our lives...but it isn't ours to hold on to. When it is time, we must let go. It doesn't make it any less meaningful because it was brief, it is still beautiful while it is here."

"Is that what you Jedi believe?" Satine asked, and Obi-Wan slowly nodded.

"W-well...it's what we strive to believe, in any case. I'm still learning, but...y-yes. That's what I believe."

"...it's beautiful. I-I suppose." The Duchess scoffed and rolled her eyes. "For a bunch of passionless, pseudo-warrior peacekeepers, in any case."

"Mm, my Duchess is too kind..."

"So...keep this a secret from Qui-Gon," Satine said with a sly smile. "To keep our moment for as long as we can."

"It's for the best, for our sake as well as his. Although..." the Jedi mused, leaning back against the wall and thoughtfully stroking his chin. "He's been saying some things to me as of late that have led me to believe his opinion on the matter may be changing. Attachments lead to the Dark Side, he knows this from first-hand experience, and yet..." Obi-Wan hissed in frustration and shook his head. "I don't know. Master Tahl's death is still fresh to him, I can feel it. I don't know what may have made his opinion change, I don't know how it could, but I do feel the shift within him..."

"You just don't like lying to your Master..." Satine gently teased, lightly poking the Jedi in the chest, and a faint smile tugged on the edge of Obi-Wan's lips, his gaze drifting to the party below where a fight had broken out between two very drunk men.

"You're right, I don't...but it's not really lying if we just don't tell him, right? That's just...helping guide his point of view!"

"This is why he calls you a little shit..."

"He does not call me a little shit!"

The door to their balcony nook swung open, and both teens looked quickly to see the panicked, wide eyes of Novin Cadera soften with immediate relief, the thin press of his mouth breaking into a wide smile as he looked upon the pair. He swiftly strode toward them before he stopped, his eyes narrowing as he looked them over, and the soft smile became a devious grin, a mischievous light shining in his eyes with understanding. Slowly, Obi-Wan and Satine moved away from each other, the Mandalorian's scrutiny making them both flush deeply despite themselves.

"The other Jedi was worried about you, Duchess," Novin drawled, his hand on a hip as he glanced between the pair. "Though...I suppose I should have known you'd sneak away to be with your lover. You should have said something. I'd have covered for you. The rendevous is a sacred thing."

"He is not my lover!" Satine said, outraged and pointing toward Obi-Wan. "He is my protector!"

"Right..." Novin drawled, winking at Satine. "Protector."

"The protector of her honor, at the moment," Obi-Wan said, stepping forward and drawing the warrior's attention. "You've seen my Master. Where is he?"

"Down there looking for her," Novin said, pointing toward Satine. "I suspect he'd have found her by now, but he's having a very hard time shaking his company." He shrugged. "I'd be helping him more than I am, but...I'm pretty bitter about him taking all the female attention. At least you have the good sense to hide yourself away."

"I'm certain my Master would rather be anywhere else," Obi-Wan said with a faint smile, closing his eyes and reaching out for Qui-Gon, only to find the Jedi's walls high and guarded, the connection between them tense and taut with frustration, the flow of the Force reaching only one way. "I'd rather be anywhere else. It was my understanding that we wouldn't be staying here long, Duchess..." he said, looking back at Satine, and with a frustrated huff, the young noble crossed her arms over her chest.

"The meetings have gone on longer than I anticipated. My people are stubborn, and this war is complicated. There is a great deal to discuss." Satine sighed, her hands clasped tightly before her, the sudden tension in her posture making Obi-Wan draw closer to her, beginning to reach out to her to help ease her fears, only to stop himself when he looked to the Cadera in the room. "I'm afraid we may be here for a little while yet."

"...I'm sorry, Duchess," Obi-Wan whispered. "I know you wished to leave quickly."

"What for?" Novin scoffed, leaning against the wall and looking down at the people below. "You are safe here, Duchess. We are not the Iteras vying for control over Krownest with the kriffing Wrens." He lifted his head arrogantly, a cocky smirk on his face. "We are Clan Cadera, the strongest of the clans of Mandalore. There is no safer place in all of Mandalore space than behind the walls of our fortress. Your enemies would be fools to attack you here. You are safe here with us."

---

The attack happened in the cover of darkness just before the sunrise. The bounty hunters breeched the walls of the fortress before the alarms could sound, their ships slipping past the Cadera blockade as their forces above the planet engaged Death Watch forces that materialized out of hyperspace and ventured too close to their territory. Within minutes, the entire fortress was armed and ready, the warriors fiercely fighting against the infiltrating force and the Death Watch that managed to break past the ships that defended the planet. It was a suicide mission, and everyone knew it, which only made the enemy soldiers more dangerous, but it was the rogue element of the bounty hunters that set the Caderas on edge. They were well armed and difficult to detect, laying in wait and using the battle to make their way closer and closer to their target and the substantial payday that awaited them were they successful.

Obi-Wan was awake when the attack began, meditating in the silence of the ship, grateful for the chance to be alone after the anxiety of the party. He stayed with Satine after they reunited with a very frustrated Qui-Gon, and the three had stayed together for the remainder of the evening. Obi-Wan walked with his Master and the Duchess to their rooms after they had enough of the noise and the desire of a hundred drunken Mandalorians, and after bidding them goodnight, the Padawan returned to his duty of watching the ship. He felt the shift in the Force during his meditation and was unable to shake the nagging in the back of his mind, and with his anxiety refusing to let him go, Obi-Wan rose and dressed, securing his saber to his belt as he left the ship to patrol for the trouble he sensed.

It didn't take him long to find it.

Not a minute after he stepped into the humid chill of the early morning air, the shadows surged with movement as the bounty hunters attacked, immediately killing the shocked patrols and rushing to their next point of cover before moving on and attacking again. Obi-Wan crouched low beside one of the many tropical plants that lined the walkways, keeping out of sight of the hunters, knowing the attention would only see him quickly slain. Moments later, the alarms sounded, the night air lighting up with the flash of explosions and cannon fire low in the atmosphere, the low rumble of ships as they approached filled the air along with the cries and screams and shouts of the swiftly mobilizing Cadera forces. The Jedi made his decision, and instead of joining the fight, he ran, keeping low to the shadows beside the high walls of the fortress as he sprinted toward the central tower where Satine and Qui-Gon slept. She was the mission. She was the priority.

By the time he reached the tower, the fortress was on lock down, the warriors from all the clans dedicated to serving Satine keeping a tight watch around the building where their Duchess was kept. The fighting was a ways away from his present location, the enemy ships that flew in close shot down by the powerful cannons on the fortress walls, but the confusion the bounty hunters presented was keeping the soldiers on edge. The last thing Obi-Wan wanted to do was attract attention, and trying to get past the lock down or the warriors that stood guard over the Duchess didn't seem wise. He would likely get shot were he to approach, and producing his lightsaber would only draw bounty hunters to Satine's location, and Obi-Wan knew that for as many were out fighting with the Mandalorians, there were just as many still in hiding, waiting for their opportunity to strike.

Obi-Wan kept low as he circled the tower, looking up at the shielded windows and the harsh, angular aesthetic of the Mandalorian architecture, ducking into the shadows when groups of soldiers ran by or the tight guard passed by on their patrol. He stopped when he saw the balcony on the third floor, its glass doors now covered with thick durasteel shielding, and knew that to be the room that Satine called hers. When the guard passed, when the soldiers turned away, Obi-Wan ran forward, his speed augmented with the Force, and he jumped, his fingers reaching for and grasping the ledge of the second floor window. Planting his feet on the wall, his teeth clenched tightly with effort, the Jedi took a sharp breath and threw himself upwards, his feet landing on the window ledge, and when he had his footing, he jumped again, this time reaching for the balcony and quickly pulling himself up.

Obi-Wan pounded on the shielding for a moment before he stepped back, closed his eyes and slowed his breathing and he reached his hands out, his palms pressed together, and touching the Force, he slowly moved his hands apart, his arms shaking with effort as he tried to pry the shielding open. It was too much, too hard, too heavy, the feat far beyond his abilities, and with a cry of frustration, he let go, his chest burning from the effort and from the sharply exhaled breath he didn't know he was holding. Undaunted, he tried again, and this time, the shielding shook, the durasteel screeching as if fought against the locking mechanisms as the warm, calm feeling of his Master's presence filled the Padawan, Qui-Gon lending him strength and helping him to open the shielding. Before long, the gap was big enough for Obi-Wan to leap through the open widow beyond, and the young Jedi took a running start to jump through, rolling on the other end to break his fall as the shielding slammed closed.

Before he even got up, Satine threw her arms around the Jedi, the girl sniffling softly into his robes as she clung tightly to him, he tight, clinging grasp joined a moment later by a gently embrace from Qui-Gon, the Jedi Master drawing the two close to him, the teenagers nearly disappearing in the sea of the towering Jedi's cloak. For a moment that felt like forever, they stayed like that, the Padawan and the Duchess, warm and safe in the protective embrace of the Jedi Master, calm washing over them as their hearts slowed and their breathing evened, forgetting the world as the focused only on this.

"We should have left," Satine muttered as she wiggled away and returned to her nervous pacing. "I'm so sorry, I should have bene more forceful. Stars, you'd think I'd learn! After Krownest, I should have known that nowhere is safe!"

"You did know, Satine, you're the one that wanted to leave, if you'll remember..." Qui-Gon said softly as he looked his Padawan over and straightened out his robes when he was saw the boy was fine. "How bad is it out there?"

"...it's hard to say," Obi-Wan said, his eyes drifting to the shielded windows. "There are Death Watch ships in the air, but they get shot down if they get too close. There's fighting, but not near here, not yet. The bounty hunters are the ones we need to worry about."

"How many?"

"...I don't know. Quite a few. This attack was...very well planned."

"As it should be, they had days to plan it..." Qui-Gon muttered, his eyes on Satine as she paced and fretted, and a second later, Obi-Wan jumped to his feet, his lightsaber flying to his hand and igniting as he ran to stand before the door, defensively guarding Satine from whatever lay beyond. Qui-Gon felt what his student did a moment later, and just as the Master stood at his student's side, the Duchess clinging tightly to the Master, the locks hissed, the durasteel shielding sliding off the door leading to the inside of the fortress. The door slid open, and Ressa and Novin Cadera rushed in, the man quickly closing and sealing the door behind them. Neither Jedi moved, their sabers held in their hands as they guarded the Duchess.

"Breaking the lock down, Caderas?" Qui-Gon asked flatly, his eyes drifting between them as he felt them through the Force. "I should warn you, the last time we were in a situation like this, another sibling pair betrayed Satine. I didn't kill Edric and Veela Ordo then, but I will not hesitate to kill you now."

"Let's just save you the trouble then and just not betray you," Ressa softly hissed. "I don't think our father would appreciate knowing that we broke the lock down, and he's really not going to like what we're going to do next."

"Our fortress is well defended," Novin said quickly. "We're going to win this fight and everyone knows it. This is the heart of our fortress, and you're going to be safe here."

"But it won't be long before every single one of our enemies knows where you are," Ressa said, taking a step toward the two Jedi, neither one of them moving or lowering their weapons, but the woman wasn't afraid. "You'll probably be safe with us." She sighed heavily, her armored hand running through her hair messy from the helmet she held under her arm. "But you will definitely be safe with your Jedi."

"I've seen what you can do, Kenobi," Novin said, stepping forward and extending his hand to the Padawan, and Obi-Wan allowed his eyes to drift curiously between the man's face and the offered hand. "You survived on Zanbar for a month surrounded by the Death Watch. You survived in the woods of Krownest, which is about the worst place in all of kriffing Mandalore. You survived venom-mites on Draboon, and all the while, you kept our Duchess safe." He stepped aside and gestured to the door. "Go. Get her out of here. A stationary target is an easy one to hit. Do what you do best, and I know you'll keep Satine safe."

"Just don't tell our parents..." Ressa growled through clenched teeth. "They're certain our defenses are enough, but we're not so sure. But you, on the run? Those are results we can't argue with." Obi-Wan and Satine both looked up at Qui-Gon, and when the Master sighed, Obi-Wan switched off his saber and tightly grasped Novin's hand.

"She'll be safe with me," he softly promised, and the Mandalorian flashed him a cocky grin.

"I know it. That's why we're here."

"I'm staying here," Qui-Gon said firmly, his attention turning to his Padawan and the Duchess. "They see a Jedi running around and it is certain to draw their attention. If I can keep them looking here, it can give you a chance to get away undetected. Go to ground, keep hidden. I will come for you when it's safe."

"Master, I can't-"

"You can and you will, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said firmly, his hand resting on the boy's shoulder. "Remember. Sometimes our rules get in the way of our mission. No matter what, you will defend the Duchess."

"...I will, Master," Obi-Wan whispered, the conviction strong in his voice. "I promise."

"There's a passage in the basement under this building that leads out past the walls," Ressa said as Novin slammed his fist on the console on the wall, the doors sliding open with a soft hiss. "I'll take you there." Obi-Wan and Satine said nothing, only quickly shoved their pockets with some fruit from a bowl on the table, bid Qui-Gon a swift goodbye and good luck, and they followed the woman out, keeping close behind her as she put her helmet back on and ran swiftly through the halls, ducking into side rooms and smaller corridors to avoid guards and remain unseen, the point of their escape defeated entirely were anyone to know that the Duchess wasn't present.

It didn't take long for them to make their way down the winding halls and past large, spacious rooms, usually bright and open to the air and the soft, tropical breeze that were now cold and dark and closed, the heavy steel shielding over the windows and doors making it feel more like a prison than a tropical fortress. Despite the numerous groups of patrolling guards, Ressa had little difficulty leading the two teens past them, a product of a rambunctious childhood and young teenage years filled with secret rendezvous. They only stopped when Ressa led them into a dark corridor, the air thick and musty and the iron walls covered in dust and the dull sheen of metal worn with age and disrepair.

"I used to use this passageway all the time when I was younger," Ressa said softly, her voice seeming even softer in the thick air of the dark room, her hand upon the wall as she almost affectionately ran her fingers down it. "It leads out to the jungle just outside the walls of the fortress. It hasn't been used in a very long time, Clan Cadera never runs from a fight." She laughed softly, brushing the dust off her fingers and smiling at the younger teenagers. "It was just me using it, really. I wasn't the easiest child, and I only became worse when I discovered all the things you could do with boys. These passages saw a lot of me on my way into the cover of the jungle." She sighed, her eyes fixed down the dark of the corridor, the draft from deep within cold and damp. "There is a network of caves within the jungle formed by subterranean rivers that lead out to the ocean. I can't think of a better place to hide."

"Will you be alright?" Satine asked, stepping closer to the other girl, and she chuckled softly, a cocky smirk on her face.

"I'm a Cadera, Duchess. It'll take more than a few bounty hunters and some Death Watch filth to take me down." She gently nudged Satine toward Obi-Wan. "I expect you to be equally difficult to kill. Give them hell, kids. I'll see you when you return." Smiling at the Cadera, her lip trembling slightly, Satine threw her arms around the warrior and tightly embraced her, the strong, stoic Ressa suddenly uncertain what to do, fidgeting in the grasp of the grateful teenager. As soon as she managed to extract herself from the Duchess' grasp, Ressa flashed the pair a quick, almost shy smile, pressed one of her blasters into Satine's hands, and rushed through the door, leaving Satine and Obi-Wan alone in the dark when the tunnel was sealed behind her.

Striking on his lightsaber to light the way, Obi-Wan grabbed hold of the Duchess' hand and ran down the hall, Satine following easily at his side, the two falling into step as if they moved as one, so used to the other from months and months of close living, of training together, of learning side by side. The tunnel was longer than Obi-Wan had expected, the draft through the thick, humid air confusing his senses and making him feel as though their exit was much closer than it actually was. He only knew they were nearing the outside air when he could see the faint light of the coming dawn lighting the tunnel around them. Switching off his saber to make certain they stayed as unseen as possible from hunters who may have been on the lookout fr Jedi weapons, Obi-Wan ran faster, pulling Satine along with him as they rushed for the wilderness of Vorpa'ya.

They emerged among the thick underbrush of the lush, tropical jungle, the air already becoming hot and sticky with the rising sun, the wilderness filled with the calls of birds and the cries of the hundred of species, the fortress nowhere to be seen through the thick groves of trees that populated the jungle. There was no discernable path, no easy way through the thick underbrush, no attempt to tame the wilderness of the planet, and the journey wouldn't be an easy one. Keeping low and climbing through bushes and tall grasses and thick, winding vines, Obi-Wan carefully picked his way through the mess of vegetation, Satine creeping slowly behind him. It was slow going until the Jedi managed to find a small, winding trail cut by the wildlife, a set path the fauna must have used regularly enough that the flora yielded to the beasts. Once the trail was found, the two teens made their way through the forest at a much faster pace, though the two still kept low for fear of detection.

Their swift trek through the jungle was stopped suddenly when Obi-Wan felt the Force shift, the calm suddenly disturbed, and without warning, he grabbed Satine and dove with her off the path and into the thick, green underbrush, the spot that they had been on only a moment before exploding in a thick plume of vegetation and dirt, a hole in the path from where a blaster bolt had struck the ground. The Jedi's lightsaber was activated a moment later to rapidly deflect the next few shots fired from a particularly nasty, modified blaster rifle in the hands of their hunter, a red scaled Trandoshan that slowly stalked into sight from the obscuring vines and growth of the jungle.

A series of reptilian growls, clicks and hisses came from the hunter's throat, his mouth parted slightly to reveal long lines of sharp, needlepoint teeth, never stopping his rapid fire on the pair even as the deflected bolts struck the ground near him or hit his armored chest, the impact bouncing harmlessly off him and doing nothing to stop his advance. What Satine drew her own blaster, using her Jedi's body as cover to lean out from behind him and shoot, the Trandoshan hesitated, but only to change his step and his focus. Crouching lower to make himself a smaller target and his slitted eyes never leaving the Duchess' blaster. From then on, a slight turn of his shoulder, the smallest movement of his head allowed him to narrowly avoid the Mandalorian's shots.

When the hunter's blaster was out of charges, he rapidly switched to another one, a slower firing one that struck with much greater impact, every shot sending the Jedi off balance with each powerful blast he deflected. For fear of other bounty hunters in the area, Obi-Wan told Satine to stay closer, the feel of them in the Force buzzing in his mind, not close enough to see them now, but close enough that they could be on them in moments were they to catch wise of what was happening. When the Trandoshan brought his gauntleted wrist up, the flash of a comlink embedded in the armor, fear gripped the Jedi, the image of a dozen hunters converging upon their location flashing through his mind. His focus sharpened, calm settling over him as he deflected another shot, his feet digging furrows from the ground from the impact, and he saw his opportunity.

Seizing the moment, Obi-Wan reached out, grabbed hold of the Force, and with a swift, hard clenching of his hand, a screeching howl of pain ripped through the air as the comlink sparked, the armor on the hunter's scaly forearm snapping down as it was crushed, sharp, jagged pieces of shattered metal slicing into his arm and sending sprays of thick, green blood splattering to the ground. Even in the thick jungle, the noise seemed to carry for miles, and Obi-Wan pushed Satine forward, urging her to run to get away from the creature, his own escape quickly ended when another shot from the powerful blaster skimmed the top of his shoulder. The Jedi scrambled on the ground to rise to his feet, turning quickly only to find the Trandoshan not only recovered enough, but now furiously charging them, faster than a creature that size had any right to be.

The blaster had been discarded in favor of a long, wicked knife, the steel of the blade flashing in the light of the morning sun, and within seconds, the Trandoshan was bearing down upon the Jedi, the knife in hand slicing downwards just as Obi-Wan rose his lightsaber. The Jedi was off-balance, his arm shaking from the pain of the burning flesh on his shoulder, and his opponent was fast, the knife slashing down across the outside edge of Obi-Wan's arms, the knife cutting down to the bone, and Obi-Wan uttered a sharp cry of pain as blood splattered the ground and his opponent. The next slash was faster, a swift cut upwards that Obi-Wan only just managed to turn away from to keep the strike from being fatal, the tip of the knife cutting through his tunic and robes and the pale skin just under his arm, the sharp steel striking a line across the boy's ribs

Pain erupted through Obi-Wan's chest and nearly sent him to the ground, heedless of the sound of Satine screaming behind him, the feral snarl of the triumphant predator loud and piercing above him, and when the knife slashed down once again, Obi-Wan turned into it, his arm thrusting above his head to strike the hunter's arm, blocking the knife from it's downward motion and he thrust his lightsaber forward. Slitted yellow eyes widened shock as he stared into the face of the frightened, bleeding Jedi, his blue lightsaber buried to the hilt in the Trandoshan's chest, the hissing blade extending out his back between the shoulder blades. The knife dropped to the ground, the low, throaty reptilian hisses and clicks dying in his chest as his muscles grew slack, the hunter slumping forward with a groan.

With a gasp of horror, Obi-Wan held the Trandoshan up, barely able to breathe as he watched the life leave the hunter's eyes, the yellow glow of his eyes fading, becoming dull and muted and sightless as he died. Switching off the saber, Obi-Wan caught the creature as he fell forward and gently lowered him to the ground, his hands shaking as they hovered above the reptile's chest as if somehow trying to find a way to save him or fix the damage he had done, heedless of the amount of his own blood that was splattering upon the hunter's armor from the deep gashes in his arms.

He gasped softly when a gentle, shaking hand touched his shoulder and he quickly turned around to meet the wide, frightened eyes of his Duchess, his cut robes hanging off his thin form, the soft beige fabric soaking through with dark, red blood. The fear in the girl's eyes was enough to motivate Obi-Wan back into action, and after quickly running his hand over the Trandoshan's face to close the dull, sightless eyes, he grabbed Satine's hand and found her shaking just as badly as he was. He started to leave the scene, pulling at the girl, but found her frozen to the spot, nerves and fear immobilizing her just as he had been only a moment ago.

"Come on..." he whispered, gently kissing her fingertips. "There are others nearby, I can feel them, we have to go..."

"Y-you killed him..." she whispered, her voice trembling and her breathing fast before she caught both his hands in hers. "Oh no, you're bleeding, you're hurt..."

"I'm fine..." Obi-Wan said, firm and calm, his fingers lightly brushing her cheek and leaving blood smeared on her pale skin. "Focus, Satine, we need to go. Now." It was enough, and with a quick nod from the Duchess, they were off, the Jedi in the lead, his bloody hand tightly clasped around Satine's, leading her at a full sprint through the jungle, heedless of the vines and vegetation that struck him as they went. They kept low, but moved fast, Obi-Wan igniting his saber to slash at the jungle flora when it became too thick for easy passage, and before long, he felt the Force pull at him, heard the soft echo of running water, and the two teens pushed their way through a thick curtain of ropy vines covering an enormous tree, the space within hollowed and spacious, a cold draft coming from a hole in the ground covered by roots.

Pulling the gnarled roots aside, Obi-Wan and Satine slid into the hole, the Jedi catching the Duchess as she fell in after them, the teenagers ankle deep in the cool, running water of a subterranean river, the space around them dark and spacious, a cave that went deeper than this cavern, judging by the echo of the running water. Keeping Satine cradled tightly in his arms, the girl clinging tightly to his neck, Obi-Wan waded through the water until his feet touched the slick stone of the river's edge, and he began jogging deeper into the caves, feeling his way with the Force as much as his eyes.

He wasn't sure how long he ran, how deep he went, the darkness disorienting, but he continued on, ignoring the dull throbbing in his arms from the deep, bleeding cuts. He slowly began following a warm current in the air, a humid, tropical draft he thought may be coming from outside, a welcome feel in the dark, chilly damp air of the cave he ran through. He only stopped running when he found the source of the warmth, not the outside of Vorpa'ya's tropical beaches like he thought, but a large cavern, a steaming pool of a natural hot spring heating the dark stones and bioluminescent algae growing on the walls and stones and ceiling in blues and greens and purples, making the entire area feel like space, surrounded by the warm comfort of the stars. It was beautiful, the Jedi staring awestruck at his surroundings, and he put the Duchess down when she gasped, muttering in soft Mando'a as she looked around.

Breathing deeply, Obi-Wan sunk to his knees, his eyes closed and his breathing deep and even as he reached out to the Force to feel for life, for his Master, for the hunters that tracked them. He heard Satine sit before him, and smiled gently when he felt her take his hands started to wipe the blood away with the edge of her tunic.

"Are we safe?" she whispered, her eyes drifting around the beautiful cavern, the light inside bright enough to see her Jedi's face, the soft edge of his lips as he smiled, the blue of his eyes almost glowing as he opened them and looked at her face.

"I don't know..." he said, shifting to make himself more comfortable. "I need a moment, just give me a moment..."

"My poor Obi-Wan..." the Duchess muttered, lifting his hands up and looking at the bleeding cuts on his arms, her eyes drifting to the long, spreading bloodstain on his robes, the blistering flesh from the graze of the plasma bolt, and Satine slowly began taking the Jedi's robe off, the boy helping to shrug it from his shoulders when he understood what she meant to do. "You're always getting hurt for me..."

"It's always been my duty and my pleasure to do so," he said, his smile faltering when he pulled his tunic off, hissing when the dried blood pulled at his skin. "I'm sorry, Satine...I-I didn't mean to kill him, I-"

"He didn't leave you much of a choice..." Satine whispered, taking the light linen of his tunic and began tearing it into strips. "It's a tragedy it came to that, but you did what you could. I cannot fault you for protecting yourself, my fearless knight..."

"...but I was afraid," he muttered, looking at his arms when Satine got up and walked quickly to the hot spring, shed her own cloak and dunked it in the water. "I dislike taking life, and up close like that, it's..." He shivered, his hands tightly grasping his knees as he shut his eyes tight against the sudden chill. "It isn't like shooting down ships, this is...personal. I can feel their life fade from the Force, I see it happen. It's no easier for me than the first time I was forced to kill."

"Nor should it be," the Duchess whispered, sinking to her knees before him once again and using her soaked cloak to clean the blood from the wounds on his arm and the cut on his side, the even slice opening and closing with each breath he took and exposing the pale flash of bone beneath. It was deeper than either of them had realized. "You aren't a killer, Obi. I know you would have let him live if it was possible."

"If we can stay hidden, perhaps we can avoid killing the others," the Jedi hissed when the wet cloth touched the gashes in his arms. "Don't get too comfortable, be ready to run at a moment's notice. I'm going to try and feel them out."

"Can I treat your injuries while you do, or is it a distraction?" Satine asked, and Obi-Wan smiled almost shyly at her, the girl's heart fluttering as he did so.

"It should be fine," Obi-Wan said softly, sitting up straight and laying his arms across his knees, the outside edge facing up to give her the best look at the bleeding cuts. "Thank you..."

"It is always my pleasure to do what I can for you, my knight," Satine said, her hand stroking Obi-Wan's cheek, and with a small, yearning smile, the Jedi leaned into her touch, closed his eyes, and slipped into his meditations. Satine set to work, moving slowly despite the urgency the blood invoked in her as to not disturb his focus, wrapping his arms as gently as she could to move him as little as possible. He didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he made no indication of it. For as present as Obi-Wan was, Satine may as well have been alone, his chest hardly even moving to indicate that he was breathing at all. More than once, Satine laid her hand over his heart just to make sure it was still beating and his injuries hadn't claimed his life while he meditated.

As soon as she had finished wrapping his arms and examining her handiwork to make certain it was good enough, Satine moved to work on his side, swiftly tearing more strips from the Jedi's hopelessly ruined tunic and wiping the area down before she set to work. She moved Obi-Wan's arm from his lap to rest over her shoulder to keep it out of the way while she worked, and she wrapped the long strips over the wound, her hands brushing against his strong body and her head resting against his chest as she reached around him.

When she was satisfied with her work, checking to make sure that none of her wrappings were loose or too tight or bleeding through, she moved to kneel behind him, her fingers gingerly touching the burn on the boy's shoulder. There was little to be done about that, but Obi-Wan had yet to move, so she took it upon herself to treat that one too, lightly dabbing at the blistering skin to clear away the dirt and sweat and grime. She got up for a moment to dip one of the strips into the water, and airing it out as she slowly returned to the Jedi, she folded the fabric into a small pad to drape across his shoulder, covering the burn with what she hoped would be something soothing to the sensitive skin.

Satine wasn't sure how long she waited for Obi-Wan to move, but so long as the Jedi was still and peaceful, she felt safe, though she still checked on him occasionally to make certain he was still alive. Hunger pangs eventually motivated her to take some of the fruit from the pockets in Obi-Wan's robe and her cloak and bite into the soft, sweet flesh of a red skinned sphere while she peeled a blue citrus fruit for Obi-Wan when he decided to return from his meditations. After exploring the cave and its beautiful, glowing flora and dipping her feet into the hit spring and reveling in the feel of relaxation, Satine returned to the Jedi's side when the fatigue from the strenuous run through the jungle finally caught up to her, the adrenaline finally leaving her blood. She dropped his robes beside him, arranged them to be as comfortable as possible, and sat beside him, lay her head in his lap, and reached up behind him to stroke his back, the feel of the relaxed, strong muscles filling the pit of her stomach with warmth.

The intention was to sleep, to allow the stress of the day to leave her as she drifted away under the protection of her Jedi, but she found herself unable to look away from the man now that he was so close. She reached up and lightly ran her fingers over the cut of his jaw, down his neck, over the scars on his chest, outlining the strong, defined muscles of his stomach, and despite herself, the warmth of comfort and safety she felt before quickly became one of desire, hot and insistent and made only worse by the months of unfulfilled need. She had learned a great deal from Ressa and the other girls over the past few days, and all of it was at the forefront of her mind now. Above her, the smooth, slow, even breathing of the Jedi hitched, grew deep and ragged for just a moment, and Satine shot up, her hands flying to his face to stroke his cheeks, fear and panic filling her and driving her previous fatigue and lazy arousal away.

"Hush, Satine..." Obi-Wan whispered, his eyes closed and a smile on his face as he reached up to run his fingers through her pale, blond hair. "It's alright. We're safe."

"They're gone?" she asked, smiling when the Jedi opened lazy, tired eyes.

"No, not gone, but...frustrated. They lost the trail, predators and scavengers have compromised it." With a soft, satisfied sigh, Obi-Wan pulled the Duchess back down into his lap, his fingers combing through her hair and a quiet moan was pulled out of his throat when the girl pressed a kiss to his stomach. "At least for now, we are safe."

"Is Qui-Gon alright?" she whispered, her hands reaching up to slide into Obi-Wan's hair, and the Jedi closed his eyes, trying to repress the soft, wanting groan she pulled out of him, though he was only partially successful.

"He is closed to me, so he is likely still fighting, but yes, he is alive." Swallowing hard and trying to calm his rapidly breathing heart, his eyes drifted down the length of the Duchess' body, his fingers tentatively running down her neck and arms, the affectionate touches drawing soft, pleasured gasps from the girl. "How long have we been here?"

"I don't know, it's hard to say without being able to see the sun..." she muttered, placing another kiss on the Jedi's stomach, the lean muscle tensing under her touch and the boy unable to repress the soft moan in his chest. "It can't have been too long..."

"Adrenaline makes the passage of time seem slower. Time passes quickly in battle, even if we don't notice it..." Obi-Wan muttered, trying to be dry, factual, trying to keep himself focused on the mission, on the danger that surrounded them, on his duty, but he was instead drawn to the moment, the feel of Satine's hands on the back of his neck warm and inviting as the Duchess pulled him down, the Jedi leaning over her and moaning softly when his lips pressed against hers. Her desire for him burst like a flash of light through the Force, sending shocks of pleasure deep through him and creating cracks and fissures in the thin veneer of his control. His nervousness banished by need, his drifting hand slipped under her tunic and ran up the flat, taut plane of her stomach, and when Satine began squirming, soft, sweet moans drawn from the girl as she deepened the kiss, the Jedi slipped his hand higher, coming to rest on the soft, silken fabric of her undergarments as he stroked her breasts.

Satine only endured it for a moment, long enough for her to moan desperately, for her arousal to rise enough to make the space between her legs slick with desire, for her nipples to harden into small points under the Jedi's touch. She sat up quickly, Obi-Wan looking at her with a confused, almost wounded expression for a moment before the Duchess straddled his lap, her hands quickly grabbing the hem of her tunic and pulling it over her head and dropping it into the pile of Obi-Wan's robes. Without wasting another moment, she grabbed the stunned Jedi's hands and placed them on her breasts once again before she slid her fingers through his hair and kissed him, deep and passionate, and Obi-Wan eagerly met her desire with his own.

She only broke away after the both of them were a panting mess of desperate moans and wanting touches, the Jedi's hands drifting to her hips and the hardened length in his pants pressing against her enough to make her stop, much to the boy's displeasure. Her sudden nervousness quickly fled before her curiosity, her eyes roving over his body and watching his chest rapidly rise and fall, the cascading contractions of the lean muscles of his stomach, the growing bulge between his legs. The past few days of listening to her friends in Clan Cadera had chased away a great deal of her shyness, and instead of backing away as she knew she should have done, she leaned in instead, her fingers petting at his stomach as teasingly grabbed the waist of his pants.

"You know, the girls talk about you a lot, Obi-Wan..." she said breathlessly, a sly, devious smirk on her lips as she watched the Jedi's eyes flutter shut as he groaned, his hands gripping his waist harder and pulling her closer against him. "A-about all the things they'd like to do to you."

"I don't want anything they could possibly-" Obi-Wan froze, his hand caught in his throat, his eyes wide and his heart seeming to freeze in his chest when the Duchess slipped her hand beneath the waist of his pants, her delicate fingers hesitating for a moment before she wrapped them around his length, the sensitive flesh hardening under her touch.

"It made me start thinking," Satine whispered, leaning up to nibble on his ear as she slowly began stroking him, "of all the things I want to do to you, and being here with you, right now...I can't think of a single reason why we haven't done this sooner."

It was all Obi-Wan needed to break. Satine watched as the blue in his eyes seemed to shatter into bright, beautiful shards of broken crystal, and with a desperate moan that came from deep in his chest, he captured her lips again, deeper than before, an urgency within him that had never been present before this moment. The hands on her hips hooked into the waist of her pants, tugging at them for a moment before he slipped his fingers between her legs, gently thumbing at the slick, sensitive folds and urged to continue by a sharp gasp of pleasure and wanting moans as she began to roll her hips, her hand tightening around his length as the last of her reservations left her.

"I want you..." Obi-Wan growled, swiftly bending to kiss and nip at the girl's slender neck, one hand supporting her back as he lowered her to the makeshift bed of cloaks and robes and tunics, and Satine responded only by wiggling out of her pants, kicking them off with her boots and propping herself up on her elbows as she watched the Jedi do the same.

"I want you..." the Duchess echoed, breathless as she parted her legs when the Jedi crawled over her, moaning and arching her hips up when Obi-Wan pressed long, languid kisses to the flat of her stomach.

"You don't understand..." he muttered between kisses as he worked his way up her body, stopping only when he got to her covered breasts and slid his hands underneath her to undo the clasp. "My entire life, I have been on the path the Force set out for me. Become a Jedi Knight, serve the people of the galaxy, bring peace where there is war and harmony where there is strife. It wasn't something I wanted, just something I know I must do..." He moaned softly when he pressed the straps down her arms and removed the garment, exposing her breasts to the warm air, a deep flush on her face as she watched the Jedi become enraptured. "But, Oh, Satine...this is the first thing I have ever truly wanted, you are the only thing I have ever wanted..."

"If that's what you want, I am all yours, Obi..." Satine moaned softly, her hands running over Obi-Wan's shoulders as he crawled upwards, his hands planted by the side of her head, and she slowly raked her fingers across his body, down his sides, carefully avoiding his wrapped injury as her touch drifted down to the sharp crest of his hips. Faltering for just a moment as she swallowed the last of her nerves, she pulled off the Jedi's briefs, the boy sighing with desperate satisfaction as his arousal was freed from the confines of his undergarments. Moaning as he kissed at the Duchess' lips, her neck, her chest, his fingers traced down her body to her hip and slowly removed the last article of clothing between them, the girl wriggling as they were removed so she could kick them off.

"Satine..." Obi-Wan gasped, sitting back and looking at the exposed woman, not so hungry as he was awestruck, his light, exploring touch drifting over the smooth, pale skin. "You are beautiful..." The Jedi closed his eyes, calming his ragged, erratic breathing when the Duchess grabbed hold of his arousal, her fingers lightly stroking along the length. "I-I hope I can please you. I tried to educate myself on the matter, b-but I fear I am a poor student, you have always said so."

"Y-you learned to please a woman?" she asked, her hand stopping as she looked at the man with wide-eyed surprise.

"I tried," he drawled, his breath hitching when the woman began stroking again. "I thought...perhaps you might teach me better."

"Well, you don't get more Mandalorian than this..." Satine said, her voice low and husky and seductive, and Obi-Wan shivered, his soft gasps becoming deep moans when the girl's hand on his hip drew him forward, the tip of his arousal rubbing against the slick heat of the Duchess.

"A-are you ready?" Obi-Wan whispered, his breathing fast and deep as he lowered himself on top of her, supporting most of his weight on his elbows as he pressed their foreheads together.

She started to answer but found her breath stuck in her chest, and swallowing hard, she nodded in lieu of words, With a deep, shuddering breath, both teenagers gasped as Obi-Wan pressed inside her, slowly sinking his full length inside the moaning girl and groaning in satisfaction when their bodies pressed against each other.

He wasn't certain how long he stayed still, how long he sat deep inside her without moving, delighting instead in the almost torturous pleasure that lit the Force, the feel of her tight around him, the taste of her as they kissed, the smell of Mandalorian lilies in her silken hair, the sound of her moans drifting through his ears, his every sense filled with nothing but her. He didn't start moving until she did, the soft urging of her rolling hips enough to jolt him into action, and with a deep, desperate gasp of pleasure, Obi-Wan drew nearly his full length out of her, only to slowly sink back inside, the both of them moaning wildly as he thrust within her

Again and again, he thrust deep inside her, setting a slow, gentle pace as they moved together, their names on each other's lips as they lost themselves in the feel of the other, the culmination of months of fighting and teasing and flirting and irresistible attraction finally coming to an end as they joined. Soft moans and pleasured gasps filled the air around them, the soft glow of the cave flora casting soft light on pale, flushed skin, and for just a moment, Obi-Wan couldn't tell where he ended and Satine began, their presence in the Force blending and intertwining and moving together as they did. She was beautiful like this, her muscles relaxed, her expression blissful, her eyes stained with the touch of lust and want and sated need even as the tension inside her continued to grow and knot deep within her.

They picked up the pace together, moving faster as they could feel the other's need grow, the building tension reaching a fever pitch and begging to be released, their breath fast, ragged gasps as they kissed and clutched at each other, the Jedi thrusting inside the Duchess with her name on his lips. It didn't take long for the increased speed to send Obi-Wan to the edge, teetering on the peak and reveling in the exhilaration of walking on such a thin ledge. With all the control that training under the Jedi had blessed him with, Kenobi held on to the feeling, refusing to go tumbling into the abyss below when standing at the top of the world felt so good. He came undone when Satine clenched around him, her legs wrapping around his hips and her arms clinging tightly to his back as she brought him tumbling down with her.

Orgasm washed over them in a wave of pleasure and satisfaction unlike anything either of them had experienced on their own, the Jedi buried deep within Satine as the muscles in his stomach rolled and clenched in a wave as he spilt inside the moaning girl. He didn't move for a long time, stayed buried to the hilt inside her long after their climax had passed and lazy satisfaction filled them. They didn't untangle themselves, stayed tightly grasped in each other's arms long after it was over, pressing soft kisses to each other's lips and muttering words of affection to each other in Mando'a, the Jedi repeating the words the Duchess said, his accent thick in his post-coital haze, though the aristocratic lit seemed to please Satine. Obi-Wan didn't know how long they lay like that, but he was certain it didn't take long before both he and his lover were pulled together into a deep, restful sleep.

---

Meditation.

There is no emotion, there is peace, there is no passion, there is serenity, there is no emotion, there is peace, there is no passion, there is serenity, there is no emotion, there is peace, there is no passion, there is serenity...

But I find peace in my emotions, I find serenity in my love for her...

I've broken the Code. Absolutely, hopelessly broken the core values of everything I believe in, everything I have ever known I will become, and I...

I can't bring myself to care.

I can't do this. Not now. Not tonight. There will be other times to reflect on what I have lost to become Satine's lover. But not now.

Now there is only her. My mission. My Duchess.