Language Disability: Missing words, misspellings, misplacement of words, you're welcome for free fiction ;D
You May Conquer the Land/The Price Paid
Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi loses the Force and his freedom. Jango Fett's own time as a slave is about to become more 'eventful' when he takes a certain foundling under his wing. Only, he doesn't know Obi-Wan's history. As Anakin takes his place at Qui-Gon's side, two bond-brothers will be turned against each other. A story of how love could save or destroy the galaxy. MAJOR AU
ReBoot: Of both You May Conquer the Land and the Price Paid, because I realized the Ben Hur inspiration works better for this story and I wanted an AU love triangle. Anakin will fall in this story, he will be the villain in a way I'm more sympathetic, and it will be glorious. He will be only three years younger than Obi-Wan.
Inspiration
Judah Ben-Hur: You speak as if he were God.
Messala: He is God! The only god! He has power, real power on Earth! Not-
[gestures to the sky]
Messala: Not that. Help me, Judah.
Judah Ben-Hur: I would do anything for you, Messala, except betray my own people.
Messala: In the name of all the gods, Judah, what do the lives of a few Jews mean to you?
Judah Ben-Hur: If I cannot persuade them, that does not mean I would help you murder them! Besides, you must understand this, Messala. I believe in the past of my people and in their future.
Messala: Future? You are a conquered people.
Judah Ben-Hur: You may conquer the land. You may slaughter the people. But that is not the end. We will rise again.
Messala: You live on dead dreams. You live on the myths of the past. The glory of Solomon is gone! Do you think it will return? Joshua will not rise again to save you nor David! There is only one reality in the world today! Look to the west, Judah! Don't be a fool, look to Rome!
Judah Ben-Hur: I would rather be a fool than a traitor or a killer!
Messala: I am a soldier!
Judah Ben-Hur: Yes! Who kills, for Rome, and Rome is evil.
Messala: I warn you!...
Judah Ben-Hur: NO! I warn YOU! Rome is an affront to God! Rome is strangling my people and my country, the whole Earth! But not forever. And I tell you, the day Rome falls, there will be a shout of freedom such as the world has never heard before!
Messala: Judah, either you help me or you oppose me, you have no other choice. You're either for me or against me!
Judah Ben-Hur: If that is the choice, then I am against you.
-Ben Hur (1959), Charles Haston and Stephen Boyd.
Prologue
Obi-Wan came awake slowly, trying desperately to remember what had happened to him.
"A friend," the hooded figure said. "Someone who was once just like you." He threw off the hood. His blue gaze was warm and friendly. "I used to be his apprentice, too."
"Qui-Gon's?" Obi-Wan asked suspiciously. "I'm not really his Padawan. And everyone says his Padawan died."
Obi-Wan remembered the Bandomeer guards coming in, blasters firing, remembered Xanatos drawing a lightsaber, Obi-Wan drawing his own.
Xanatos had been rusty and Obi-Wan had been winning until he fell off the boxes he had leapt onto.
He tried to open his eyes now, but he was blindfolded. Which, luckily for him, he had been trained for. But his arms were tied tightly behind his back and he couldn't sense the singing of his own lightsaber.
He heard Xanatos's voice, he sounded like he was haggling.
"This one is a Jedi," a strange voice said.
"A Padawan," Xanatos corrected incorrectly.
"How much can we sell him for?" another stranger asked, this one sounding feminine.
It was then that Obi-Wan realized they were haggling over him, his freedom.
Xanatos was selling him into slavery.
Some friend, he thought bitterly as he admitted to himself that so far, his days outside of the Temple had been the worst of his life. Marked by desperation and fear, getting choked out by Hutts, the passengers trying to have a war inside a spaceship only to be interrupted by having their ship over-run by pirates, then there was scaling mountain and scary man-eating dragon-like creatures from their perches, and yeah, just a lot of adventure.
Adventures that weren't so much fun as needlessly violent and recklessly dangerous.
Obi-Wan remained silent as this final leg of his journey with Qui-Gon Jinn came to an end. Because, in the end, Obi-Wan wasn't destined to be a Jedi Padawan or Jedi Farmer or even have the option to make his own way in the galaxy. No, his life was being stolen from him, and bound on the ground with armed foes above him, he couldn't think of how even the Force could help him now.
So, he waited in silence as his fate was decided for him, as he lost hope between each moment and the next that Master Qui-Gon would find him in time.
Xanatos had won, Yoda was wrong, escape was doubtful, and his only real hope was that too much harm wouldn't befall him.
Obi-Wan bided his time as he was moved from transport to transport.
He tried listening to the Force as Master Yoda had taught him, tried to be patient. The Force reached out to him in turn, attempting to soothe him, to ease his fears, telling him to be patient, just be patient. The Force seemed to think he was on the right path.
Credits passed between hands, Obi-Wan discovered what others thought he was worth in a literal sense. It was far worse than Qui-Gon not wanting him as a Padawan, infinitely worse than farming, or whatever it was that Yoda had in mind because as Obi-Wan sat in a cell of a cold pirate ship, he reflected on everything.
On being targeted by Xanatos, of doing exactly what he was told not to do and the price he was now paying for that. Qui-Gon had told him to stop investigating, Obi-Wan had done the opposite and drawn a sadistic Dark Sider's attention to himself.
Even back at the Temple, Yoda had told him to be the bigger person with Bruck, to be wary of anger, that anger was the true enemy. Only to -minutes later- give into anger himself when Bruck taunted him. Not that Obi-Wan understood why exactly he had been shipped off without being spoken to formally. Why hadn't Master Ali-Alann said good-bye or why Qui-Gon hadn't seemed to have known that Obi-Wan would be going to Bandomeer too that day.
But more than that.
The unpreparedness of the Agricorps on Bandomeer had been odd. Actually, there wasn't even a Jedi presence on Bandomeer aside from him and Qui-Gon. The Agricorps were more organized than that; as much as Obi-Wan wanted to be a Jedi Padawan, the Corps weren't unworthy of respect, they weren't lesser part of the Order, they weren't alone. They still trained and practiced in the Force.
Which meant, in all likelihood, Yoda had been conspiring to put Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon together.
But Obi-Wan sincerely doubted Master Yoda had foreseen this.
The reality of this didn't set in until they landed on Zygerria and, before he was sold to the feline-like people, he was collared with a mechanism that cut his connection to the Force.
Cut it completely.
The Force will be with you, always.
Obi-Wan almost cried, the one constant in his life, the one thing more precious to him than his freedom, than his health, or even more than his very life, was the Force. It was a part of him, it was what allowed him to always see the light in the world, to always be connected to his family, to never be alone, without guidance, or wisdom, or love.
Because in the arms of the Force, Obi-Wan was a part of something greater than himself, he was a part of all that lived and all that sought the light. It's why Obi-Wan knew he should have let things go with Bruck, why he pitied Xanatos. So many people seemed to think the Jedi were cold and emotionless and it didn't matter what they thought, because what it was to Obi-Wan was complete compassion.
To love all, to be all, to never be alone, or forgotten or without home or family.
Because the Force was literally everything.
And his enslavers had just taken it from him, shut him out in the cold. It wasn't darkness, it was void, purgatory. They had stolen all that he was, who he was, stolen him from his people, his faith.
All his brothers and sisters whose lights had grown so distant the further into the Outer Rim they had taken him, but still there, still warm, still sensible and tangible, suddenly disappeared. As if they had been the ones to die. But even death wouldn't have separated them so completely. Obi-Wan had felt old Masters, mentors who he as a youngling had been able to chase down to bother, pass on into the next life, and yes, their lives had gone out but something of them had remained in the Force.
But this… he had never known what loneliness meant. He was unmoored, untethered, left without direction even as he was draped in shackles and the Zygerrians familiarized him with their Empire's history with the Jedi Order.
They were not gentle lessons.
Planets and systems away, a small green Master who was in discussion with his two grown Padawan, let out a small gasp, almost a sob.
His ears drooped and he hunched in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut as one of the brightest lights to pass through his tutelage went dark in a final whisper of fear and despair.
Mace leaned closer to him, "Master?"
Yoda didn't want to say it, didn't want to admit his failure. For this was not Qui-Gon's fault, because Yoda had felt the darkness and had sent the child anyway.
So, he spoke his sin aloud, the terrible injustice he had done to a child, a Master, and the galaxy that would be lesser for losing such a light.
"Dead, is Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi."
Dooku looked away from him, ever more disheartened by the Order, ever more disappointed in his old Master.
Especially in recent events, where things had gone so very, very wrong on Galidraan because of information that had been sent to them by the Senate on their latest mission. The following bloodshed, the unnecessary loss of life, loss of Jedi Knights and Padawans.
The Senate had not even cared.
"I'm sorry, Master, I know that Obi-Wan was very dear to you," Mace said, the compassion he so rarely showed anyone shining through.
Yoda sighed, thinking of the pretense they had sent him away on, the false accusations, a test, not a punishment. Yoda had known full well of Initiate Bruck's taunting of Obi-Wan, that Obi-Wan may have verbally instigated the fight, but not after the other boy had been bullying him for months, if not years. Rivalry was hard to stop but it ensured that Bruck would never be chosen as a Padawan and caused many a Master to overlook Obi-Wan.
The spar that had taken place between them, with training sabers, in the training rooms, despite being unsupervised, was hardly cause for a cold and abrupt dismissal. Yoda, however, had been so confident that Obi-Wan was above his age in wisdom, that if he had calmed himself enough to reflect, he would have asked the right questions rather than being so focused on being chosen as a Padawan.
Yet Yoda, in his eagerness to prove his own vision correct, the old Master had forgotten that Obi-Wan was still a child.
Still afraid of change and still devoted to his dreams.
Yoda had always loved the youngling's love for the Force; Obi-Wan had even told him once when Yoda had counselled him on the name calling and how it made him feel.
Awful, Master. Oafy-Wan? They're right, I am klutzy, I'm supposed to feel comfortable in my body, but I don't, it's too big for me. Only when I'm using the Force do I feel whole and graceful, present, you know?
Yoda had chuckled, Know very well I do, when older you are, fit you will. Yet older like my apprentice, Dooku, he had snickered again, or me, body again, pain you it may, but the Force, always with you it will be. Time comes, time goes, but the Force always is.
Obi-Wan had smiled at him, mostly understanding, but largely just happy Yoda had taken the time to speak with him. Rash, the boy was, quick emotions, deep hurts, but always tempered by compassion and kindness. He was nothing like Xanatos, even if his emotions ran high at the surface. Unlike Xanatos, Yoda had not feared testing Obi-Wan, knowing the boy's nature to be truer or more faithful than any star.
But Yoda had underestimated the outside dangers Obi-Wan would face and the cost of that… "Know not, he did, nothing wrong he did. Took him as my own Padawan, I should have. But old am I, adventure, chaos, he needed, thought I. Made of greater things than know he, young Obi-Wan Kenobi is." His voice caught on the tense, he sighed again in a shaky breath, "But wrong I was, fail I have."
Dooku's voice was dry and bitter, and hit Yoda like a lash, "Well, at least you admit it. But I suppose the real miracle will be if you change, or continue in the same inane way of thinking, Master."
Accept this criticism, Yoda did. Master Qui-Gon Jinn returned to the Temple, a body and two saber in his arms, the settlement of Bandomeer and the slaves of Bandomeer freed and saved.
The body was not Obi-Wan's but Xanatos, who had thrown himself on Qui-Gon's lightsaber rather than be caught and imprisoned, Obi-Wan was deemed to have died trying to escape an under-ocean slaving mine.
Lost at sea, was what was publicized, enslaving Force Sensitives was too lucrative a business to ever encourage even in passing.
The Order held two vigils.
Yoda's heart broke as he watched the cluster of Obi-Wan's friends hold onto each other, even the older students, such as Quinlan Vos and Shaak Ti came to stand with the little ones.
Master Alann-Ali, Obi-Wan's Crechemaster, was beside himself with grief, the big man was hovering over that cluster as if, had he had the power, he would turn back time and tuck them all back into bed as if this were all simply some terrible nightmare.
Master Qui-Gon Jinn was left more devastated than he had been, secure in the knowledge that this, Xanatos and Obi-Wan's fates were his fault, his failing.
And it broke him.
He retreated from the others, became more reclusive than he had ever been, from Tahl, from his old Master, from any friends that loved him. Though perhaps the most startling change in the famed Qui-Gon Jinn was his obedience. From that day forward, he obeyed without question or comment or disapproving glance, every order from the Council, to the letter.
As for Master Yoda himself, he retired the day after Obi-Wan's vigil.
Much would change, but always, hold regret in his heart for the boy he had loved and failed, Yoda would.
Chapter 1 - Warrior Heart
One Year Later
Jango Fett hated the Jetti, and he amused himself throughout his new existence after encountering the Jetti 'Master' Dooku agreed with the snake Governor of Galidraan, and 'meditated' on that hatred.
His 'owners' were spicer pirates who enjoyed making Jango do all the physical labour rather than update their tech.
Jango's bitterness, sarcasm, and eye rolling had turned into a complete inner monologue for both self preservation and boredom.
The Weequay were laughing among themselves as they came out of hyperspace.
"Think we could get anymore slaves?" one asked.
Jango had made it a point not to remember their names, or at least to avoid thinking of them.
Another responded, "Zygerrian slaves are too expensive unless we find a defunct one and they aren't typically worth the trouble."
"Still," the first said, "finding one more submissive than Fett would be nice."
"One-twenth a quarter unit, that's it," the head pirate said, "And we aren't bargaining long, we've stolen from too many of the guests on this planet in the past to overstay our welcome."
"Aye, that's true," the second said.
Jango rolled his eyes, lingering in the shadows as he waited to move spice for people that defined evil.
That the Zygerrians were thriving in the galaxy was only another show of how corrupt the Jetti Order had become. They weren't heroes or peacekeepers, they were a part of the problem.
When they landed, Jango swallowed a groan at the heat. Jango began pushing out spice krates as the Weequay bargained with the Zyggerians and watched him work.
"Do you need help?"
Jango froze and turned to see a copper-blonde haired, blue-eyed boy fidgeting by the unloading docks. Judging by the looks he was giving the Fuzz-Eared Bastard talking with Weequay, he was being supervised.
The collar he wore was far too big though not big enough to slip off. But the loose fit and the heavy weight had caused bruising and cuts on the boy's neck. Upon closer examination, Jango realized with disgust the locks were made of Beskar.
The collar was permanent, big so he could grow into it, unless a Mandalorian Blacksmith with some engineering background took it off, carefully, in a full workshop, there was no way to get it off without killing the boy.
It was somehow worse than a slave chip. A visible, physical, reminder of enslavement that even at night, in the privacy of his own bed, he wouldn't be able to escape.
"Sure, kid," Jango said, not knowing why the boy was asking for work, but this was Zygerria, everything was karked up on Zygerria.
The boy joined him, helping to push the crates of spice without a whisper of complaint.
Well trained.
Jango grimaced.
"Got a name?" Jango asked.
"Obi-Wan Kenobi."
Jango winced again, "Your parents hated you that much?"
"What?" the boy asked, turning startled blue eyes on him.
"Your name, it means No One From Nowhere," Jango translated, with a twinge of regret at being the one to break the news.
However, Obi-Wan gave a startled laugh, and Jango finally placed his accent as high Courscanti, "No, I didn't know that, and I don't know if my parents hated me or not, don't remember them. My brother liked me though, I think, I don't really remember them or my home planet all that well."
He didn't pry further, "My name's Jango Fett."
"It's nice to meet," the boy said, for a kid with a hard past, he clearly had a long fall if he was this courteous on impulse.
"Coruscanti then?"
Obi-Wan shrugged, "Not anymore, you?"
"Mandalorian."
The boy looked at him more appraisingly, "Like a Mandalorian Warrior?"
Jango smirked, "Armour, flame thrower, and everything. Once upon a time."
Last karking year to be if one wanted to be exact on the matter.
Obi-Wan smiled at him.
That smile felt oddly out of place, but the boy was just so… good natured, Jango couldn't fully restrain the slightest of twitched lips in return.
"Hey, enough chit-chat, move the goods!" The head Weequay called.
They got back to work and a few minutes later, Obi-Wan asked, "Are they looking to buy more slaves?"
"Just an extra pair of extra hands if they are cheap and aren't reluctant to work," Jango said in distaste.
To his surprise, the boy flashed him another grin and straightened his back and began working double time.
Jango, despite personally of the position that he would rather stab himself than play 'happy' slave, was understanding that there were some slavers worse than others, even if they all deserved to be burned alive in acid. He deliberately slowed down making Obi-Wan's efforts look even better.
The head Weequay did notice. When he and Obi-Wan came to wait for their 'owner's' next orders after unloading the spice units -neatly, originated from large to small units- on the docs, the pirate looked at the child with greed that Jango could read plainly despite the absurd goggles.
The pirate asked the fluff-assed slaver -stupid cat people, Jango was even fond of cats outside of these scum- who he was selling the spice to if the boy was for sale.
Fluff-Ass grunted, squinting at the boy blurrily, "Him? I don't know, a talkative one," his words were oddly slurred, "takes others beatings, nearly killed him a few times, ruined his pretty skin."
Aside from his neck, Jango couldn't see any scarring which probably meant his back or chest, or both, under the skin tight uniform of mesh green cloth that didn't show sweat but looked supremely uncomfortable.
"I thought you trained your slaves out of that," the pirate remarked, as if they were talking about puppies.
"We do, but he's cheeky about it. Finds ways to make it look like he's the one to make the mistake when he can, took us months to figure it out. That young, it usually doesn't take a full year to break'em. But he's broke, obedient despite his suicidal pain tolerance. Ruined him for court life though, he'll be good as a house-slave for a time but after that, he will labour for the rest of his days. Waste, not many Coruscanti slaves this far in the Outer Rim."
"Though plenty of slaves on Coruscant," the pirate jested.
They all laughed but for Jango and Obi-Wan.
Jango was stiff with rage, it took everything in him not to strangle the lot of them. Looking at the child, who couldn't be more than thirteen or fourteen years old, beside him, Jango didn't know what he wanted to see. Someone traumatized, someone in need of help, in need of a parent.
But Obi-Wan's expression was passive, polite, no anger, no grief, and not the slightest lick of fear. He was the picture of calm and control, the perfect servant.
It was a good act, Jango had to admit.
The Weequay pirate was still interested, Jango was a miserable sod, he knew it, but the boy was like his opposite, peaceful, passive, hard working.
"He still doesn't look like a labourer to me. Too skinny for a human," the Weequay pirate mused, trying to lower the price by devaluing what he sought to buy.
Unfortunately though, he was right, the boy looked like he was either eating or being fed just enough to keep him going.
Fluff-Ass grunted, his words coming slower, "Don't like food that one," the slaver looked confused, "Why am I even here? It's not my job to buy the spice," he muttered then cursed in his own tongue, something about someone switching shifts.
Jango's eyes narrowed, Has he been drugged?
He looked again at the boy who gave nothing away, the same calm, almost contented peacefulness.
Jango almost envied him, or at least the control that act took.
"Is he for sale?" the head pirate asked as the crew followed the spice racks to make sure they weren't miscounted. Though no one stole on Zygerria, well, of course, aside from the freedoms of the slaves, but noone but the slaves seemed to give a kark about that.
"Hmmm…" the Fluff-Ass hummed, looking at the boy with unfocused eyes as if trying to remember something and thinking very hard.
Definitely drugged.
"Can we buy the child?" the pirate said slowly, a happy lilt to his voice, as he realized he had the upper hand. He couldn't overly rob the Zygerrians, their record keeping was scrutinized extensively, but the pirates could get the better deal and the Fluff-Ass would be the one to regret it later.
"Whach yeh pay for him?" he slurred.
The haggling began.
But the longer it went on the more confused and tired the Fuzzed-Ass got, so eventually, even he seemed to understand how bad off he was, and agreed to a price that was less than what Jango himself had been sold for.
Of course, he was a Mandalorian Warrior.
The kid was just a once rich Coruscanti boy, even if he was conditioned by the Zygerrians.
Fluff-Ass reached for his belt and handed the controller to the pirate.
Such a device could be hacked, hacked to cause pain or terminate, but not unlock, it's why the slaver had it on hand. Kill-switches were never kept within view of the slave.
The pirates kept the kill-switch for Jango well hidden, one of the few mildly intelligent decisions they had made. There were always too many karking pirates for him to ever search the ship for it. But Obi-Wan would never have that hope.
Even if the remote to collar was destroyed, a new remote could be made and connected.
It was actually a risky business, Jango realized now that he thought about it, that there were a lot of ways for someone else to kill the boy and the collar was permanent, which meant that whoever had put it on him would prefer him dead to free.
He was probably from a powerful family, adopted if he didn't know the origin of his name or birth parents, and his enslavement had been a blow against someone else.
A pawn in someone else's game.
The whole thing was profoundly depressing.
The moment Fluff-Ass had another fuzz-eared slaver hand over the payment for the spice, Obi-Wan turned and walked calmly but determinedly onto the ship.
Without being ordered.
Jango shared a glance with the pirate who jerked his chin at the boy to follow, which Jango did for the boy, not because he was 'obedient'.
He caught up to the boy soon enough. "Do you even know where you're going?" he couldn't keep the slight amusement out of his voice.
"When are we leaving?" the boy countered.
Jango frowned, seeing the fear in the boy for the first time.
But the eight Weequay were coming back on board.
The head pirate said, "Hatch closed and engines hot. I want us up." Then muttered, "That was too good a deal."
Jango put a protective hand on the boy's shoulder when some leered at him.
The leader said, "You, with me to the cockpit. I'd like to inspect our new merchandise."
Obi-Wan dipped his head respectfully, a very practiced gesture, "Yes, Sir."
The pirates laughed at the boy, at his use of the word sir, at the politeness he showed his abusers for survival's sake not from any earned respect.
Jango hated everything to do with slavery and he included the Jetti in that, for allowing this.
"Got a name?"
"Wan, Sir."
"Just Wan?" another Weequay asked.
"Just Wan, Sir," Obi-Wan repeated politely.
Jango stuck to the boy's side, despite the fact he usually went off on his own if he had no active orders.
They were lifting from the docks when there was a bit of a commotion, one of the fluff-eared slavers had clasped. Jango leaned over the copiloting Weequay, Fluff-Ass who had sold Obi-Wan and who had bought the spice from the pirates to be precise.
"Go," the head Weequay pirate hissed as he hit the throttle.
The next few minutes were tense as alarms were sounded and confusion ensued. The Zygrerrian shields were going to close before they could make it out into open space.
Jango's heart was in his throat and before he knew what he was doing he was shoving the pirate on his shebs and taking the pilot's seat, to his surprise -and relief- Obi-Wan took over for the co-pilot in the same 'impolite manor'.
The Weequay gave a token protest, but they couldn't afford getting caught, and between Jango and Obi-Wan, they flew better and far, far faster.
The shields closed behind them; the fighters never caught up to them.
They weren't safe until they entered hyperspace and once they did, the pirates all cheered in delight, except for the leader who took Obi-Wan by the ear and threw him to the grated floor, holding the remote threateningly.
The cheering silenced.
"You, what did you do?"
Obi-Wan looked up at him, getting to his feet, hands fisted at his side as glared at the pirate with defiance in his blue-grey eyes. Pure fire.
Gone was the pleasant servant, here was the survivor underneath, who had, though still a slave, escaped Zygerria. His voice was Beskar when he said, "I drugged my keeper."
"What kind of drug!?" the pirate roared.
Jango hid a smirk, killing a Zygerrian would blacklist these pirates forever. They would have bounties on their heads in hours.
"His wife was having trouble sleeping, I merely put an extra few doses of her herb in his cafe."
"A sleeping sedative?" Jango asked, frowning, "How did he not notice that?"
Obi-Wan looked at him, the anger in him easing, "The caffeine high prevented the sleeping agent from working, it's not like a heavy medical sedative, just a plant extract. It could only kick in after the caffeine crash."
Jango blinked.
Smart kid.
The leader still looked tense, "Will he suffer any lasting damage?"
Obi-Wan shook his head, "No, but he'll probably be punished for falling asleep on the job."
"And selling you at half the cost," the pirate added, "I'm guessing his job reassignment was your doing too?"
Obi-Wan did not answer this, stubborn, defiant.
Jango was proud of him.
The leader smiled at him, taking off his goggles to meet the boy in the eye, "You'll behave for me, boy, the way you did for the Zygerrians or I'll send you back to them."
Obi-Wan tilted his chin up, which would have been a more impressive gesture if it didn't show off the nightmare on his neck.
The pirate pressed a bottom on the remote.
The boy didn't scream as visible electricity spiked from the collar. Obi-Wan's eyes rolled back and he dropped to the floor, his body twitching as he almost immediately lost consciousness.
The pirate cursed, almost dropping the remote in his surprise, and Jango began swearing at the pirates in his own tongue before he could manage to snarl out, "What kark is wrong with you!?"
The Weequay just stared at him with wide beady eyes, "He said it just causes pain, it was just a punishment!"
"When he wakes up, he will be lucky if he is able to stand long enough to piss straight for a few days, you, -" He dipped back into Mando'a before continuing in Basic. "That collar is designed for a man thrice his size, not a half-starved adiik, if you want to hurt him, slap him, do not, fry his internal organs."
Jango checked Obi-Wan's pulse, before gently as he was able, taking the boy into his arms. He would take the child back to his room and the pirates didn't give them another hammock, he would sleep on the floor.
Obi-Wan was far too light in his arms.
"But why?" the pirate asked, as if he were the one who had been electrocuted, "Zygerrians don't commonly use collars for long term slaves. He's been with them for a year. They don't use kill chips for krif's sake! This is extreme!"
"It's a Tartarus Collar," Jango said through gritted teeth, "Whoever put it on him wanted to ensure that he would die a slave."
Tartarus Collars were almost worth the price of the slave, they were supposed to work on everything humanoid if sized correctly, from Mandalorian Warrior to Jetti. Only the locked clasps were beskar with no opening mechanism, so no matter the tool or strength, even if the collar could be broken, it was rigged to explode. They weren't used unless you were willing to accept the risk that the person might kill themselves or someone else assassinating them.
It's why Zygerrians didn't use them because their slaves had a high suicide attempt rate, and most Hutts didn't use them because the Hutts had too many enemies who knew that they could get back at the Hutts by killing their slaves.
It made Tartarus Collars, despite their complexity and expense due to bits of Beskar, uncommon and unpopular, people only used it on other people to hurt, to threaten, for long term torment. Zygerrians never personally went to Coursant, or at least none of the slavers, which meant Obi-Wan had been acquired by a third party.
Again, Jango thought he was probably related to someone in the Republic Senate somehow.
"But why be that extreme with a boy?" a pirate asked.
Jango looked down at the ad'ika in his arms and thought about how he had managed to escape an inescapable fortress, how he had faced his fear with the heart of a warrior. Had tried to protect others when he himself had nothing. So Jango said perhaps too truthfully for his audience, "Because whoever captured this child feared the man, the warrior, he would one day grow up to be."
And he would be a warrior, Jango decided. Obi-Wan had a warrior heart. Jango had always wanted to be father and maybe at twenty three, he was a bit young, and this foundling wasn't exactly a yearling, but Obi-Wan Kenobi needed an adiit, his family, and Jango would be that for him for as long as he needed or wanted.
oOo
KEYnote: Though the topics of slavery and warfare may be talked about with seriousness, with mentioned severe child abuse of the worst kinds, there will not be gratuitous depictions of harm. This is an overcoming misfortune and kicking ass kind of story ;)
oOo
AN: Thoughts on this chapter, ideas for this story, to your woefully paid artist, reviews or feedback, pretty please?