Wait For Me

by Riniel o Imladris

Please...wait for me. A simple request, made by a man who loved her enough to sell his soul to darkness. And if she had heeded his plea, what then? Would their fate still be filled with sorrow, or would the light blaze a new path? Revenge of the Sith AU

23. Crossroads of the Past

Chapter Eighteen
Crossroads of the Past

Obi-Wan blinked rapidly several times, Sabé's broad grin vanishing and reappearing with each flash of light and darkness, and he silently berated himself for reacting like a stunned mynock in the aftermath of her pronouncement. He was a Jedi Master, after all – a man with years of experience in roaming known space and mingling with all types of beings. He should not be surprised by this woman's proficiency in her work like he was some callow Padawan fresh out of the Jedi Temple.
But Obi-Wan refused to allow even the slightest hint of embarrassment to show. That beautiful, seemingly innocent face upturned towards him had not changed in expression, and those dark, almond-shaped eyes were as sharp as the honed edge of a vibroblade – nothing would escape their notice.
He buried the embarrassment in a far corner of his mind and drew himself upright, molding his attitude around the persona of General Kenobi, and replied, "Perhaps we should begin with how you came to acquire this additional training."
Her mouth opened, and then closed an instant later. Obi-Wan caught a flicker of indecision in her gaze, just before it was replaced by a shrewd, calculating twinkle. "Why don't you test me first, and then I'll explain," Sabé suggested.
Obi-Wan had to admire her nerve; not many in the galaxy could stand toe-to-toe with a Jedi Master and contradict a request. He did, however, have the sinking feeling that this discussion would involve many such contradictions – and it was in that moment that he felt oddly grateful. After dealing with Anakin's headstrong tendencies for over a decade, he had stockpiled a vast supply of patience.

"Very well," Obi-Wan agreed calmly. "Shall we?" He made a wide, sweeping gesture with his arm. Sabé understood immediately what he meant and fell gracefully into a cross-legged pose on the conference room floor. It took Obi-Wan a little longer than usual – the cast on his injured leg was cumbersome, and the pain was certainly a challenge – but soon he was seated in a similar way, directly across from her, their knees nearly touching.
The decoy looked perfectly at ease; her spine was straight, shoulders pulled back, and she rested her forearms comfortably on her legs. Watching the Jedi Master with a compliant expression, she waited for him to direct the course of this meeting.
Obi-Wan studied her eyes – it was the easiest way to gain some sense of what she was thinking without relying on the Force – but the dark brown orbs had become inscrutable, clouded. "How would you like me to proceed?"
Sabé spoke adamantly, her stare never wavering. "Test me as you think the Emperor would."
The Jedi Master blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Try to get inside my head. Look for something that you do not know about me – something from my childhood, perhaps." After accurately reading the look of incredulity and apprehension on Obi-Wan's bearded face, Sabé smiled. "Don't worry about me; I want to be prepared, and I want you and Padmé and Anakin to feel confident in me. Now, go on." Her hands curled into fists, and her jaw tightened, as if she were steeling herself.
Obi-Wan was far beyond perplexed at this point; he honestly had no idea how he could explain this to her – especially when her self-assurance resonated within the Force like a second voice. "Sabé…" he began slowly, cautiously, "The act of entering a person's mind is a dangerous task. Most Jedi – and Sith, for that matter – use the Force to skim the surface thoughts of others, purely as a precaution against threats or when searching for information on a specific event. To delve deep into another's mind and hunt for a memory…it is very difficult."

"But you said it can be done," Sabé said, her own confusion rising to the fore. "That it's what Palpatine would use against me if I am captured and questioned. Can you not simulate it?"
"In theory, yes – but not to the same extent as the Emperor." Obi-Wan leaned forward slightly, focusing on her eyes, wanting her to fully comprehend what he was about to disclose. "I can use the Force to examine your mental defenses, but I will not go as deep as he will. I do not wish to harm you. You see… when a foreign consciousness invades a mind, it can leave holes – tears in the subconscious, which may never fully heal. My entrance will be precise, controlled. The Emperor will be careless, and brutal. He will not have the smallest amount of pity, and will scour every corner of your mind to discover your secrets."
He sighed heavily, his blue-grey eyes glancing aside. "I must be very honest with you, Sabé: it is my fear that, should Palpatine have you in his clutches, knowing that you carry the location of Anakin Skywalker's offspring in your memory… You will not survive his interrogation." His eyes swung back to hers, unsure of what to expect.
Her face was smooth and placid, although the determination behind her eyes had hardened considerably. Sabé remarked lightly, "You're still underestimating me, Master Kenobi." She smiled a coy, lopsided grin, but the hard core of durasteel in her gaze remained. "Test me," she offered again, "Go as deep as you able without causing any damage, and then we will both know what I can survive."
They stared at one another for several minutes, each trying to read into the other's thoughts and intentions – until Obi-Wan released a long, weary exhale and said, "As you wish. But I will need something more specific to look for than just a random memory – and it cannot be from your childhood. That will cause me to explore your subconscious too deeply. A more recent memory would suffice. If I enter your mind without a purpose, it will not accomplish anything except granting us both a terrible headache."
"Hmm…" Sabé pondered briefly, and then replied, "I have an older brother that I visited a few months ago. Find out his name and where he is staying."

Obi-Wan nodded. It was a good choice; the knowledge was relatively fresh, and it would allow him to search out a name and a visual location. "Are you ready?" In affirmation, Sabé's chin rose, and the muscles of her slender neck visibly tensed. Obi-Wan reached out with both hands, explaining in a gentle voice as the decoy's eyes watched him warily, "I doubt that the Emperor will proceed in the same manner, but it helps for me to maintain a physical anchor." He placed his fingertips on either side of her head, touching her temples with light pressure. Sabé's growing unease, and the fierce resolve she used to combat it were screaming at him through the Force, and he looked at her with a slight smile. "Try to relax."
The look she gave him was one of sardonic disbelief, and Obi-Wan fought the urge to laugh. As much as this woman pushed the limits of his Jedi-trained calm, he would like to count her as a friend. Returning his focus to the present moment, Obi-Wan let his eyelids drift closed, and he opened himself fully to the Force. As his awareness expanded outwards, he could sense the cracks in his perceptions, the damage still as of yet that had not been undone. He would have to go about this very carefully, or risk harm to either himself or Sabé – and he would tolerate neither outcome.
The Jedi Master formed a probe of Force energy, and sent it towards Sabé. She jerked under his touch as the probe initiated the contact between their minds, piercing her thoughts as much as he dared, and he followed its wake into her subconscious.

For a moment there was nothing but chaos. Colors, images, and sounds swirled around him like a hurricane, and the sensory overload was almost too much to bear. Obi-Wan concentrated on the low rhythm of his heartbeat, thundering in his ears – and eventually the chaos began to thin, though random images and noises surrounded him every few seconds.
He could feel the early twinges of pain, like needles driving into his skull, and knew he did not have long to complete his task. Sabé's thoughts echoed through him – her voice rang in the void like the chimes of a great bell, interrupting his concentration.
I'm not sure I can do this…
…certain that this will work…
Padmé is counting on me…
…will I know if he succeeds?
Obi-Wan projected his mental suggestion in a bubble of energy, and it overruled the unending echoes. "Your brother's name." The whisper filled the now-silent ether.
For a split second, a face appeared – a man who looked to be a few years younger than Obi-Wan, with dark hair tied back loosely at the nape of his neck. He had Sabé's almond-shaped eyes.
But suddenly, the image was swept away by a tide of emotion, and Obi-Wan found himself in a sparring room, watching arms and legs that were not his conduct the basic moves of Echani shadow-boxing, a technique known to military special forces and Jedi alike.
He tried to pull himself out of the imagery, but Sabé's thoughts began ringing out once again, repeating each motion verbally as it was performed.
Left jab.
Right cross.
Right kick, left hook, double punch.
Crouch, sweep kick, left elbow, then punch.

He focused inward, drawing upon his inner strength, and summoned a considerable blast of Force-enhanced volume in order to call out, "What is your brother's name?"
The question seemed to shake the walls of the sparring room, and Obi-Wan stifled a groan as a starburst of intense pain erupted right between his eyes.
The man's face appeared again, wearing a wide, affectionate smile…and the sky above him was a brilliant turquoise, decorated by puffs of silver-white clouds and occasional flashes of light on the hulls of spaceships as they entered and departed from the planet's atmosphere. The wind stirred, a rustling noise awakening to his left, and Obi-Wan noticed a nearby tree, its leaves a deep purple, run through with reddish veins, and its bark was the topaz color of a sky at sunset.
"Where is this? What is his name?" he demanded, the pain in his forehead fanning outwards to explode behind his eyes. He faintly heard a harsh gasp, the image distorting for an instant, and regret knifed through him that he had caused her pain.
Sabé's voice spoke from the memory, "I've missed you, Sh –"

The memory vanished in a violent flare of white light, and the rumbling growl of thunder. Obi-Wan was standing in the middle of a storm, the rain beating down upon him mercilessly while lightning snaked its electric tendrils across the black sky. An angry face loomed before him; a man, bald, with a thick neck corded by muscle and a diagonal scar that ran from his left eyebrow, across the bridge of his nose, and ended somewhere beneath his right earlobe. He screamed in a deep, booming voice that carried over the howling wind, pounding rain, and deafening thunder – "FOCUS, di'kutla ad'i! How can you hope to learn our ways when you cannot discipline yourself?"
Obi-Wan felt Sabé's exhaustion, the way her limbs trembled from exertion and lack of sustenance – and he felt the burning surge of anger as it fueled her waning determination, straightening the bend in her spine. "I am focusing, Commander."
The force of the backhand sent her reeling backwards, and Obi-Wan grimaced as she pressed a palm to her stinging cheek, tasting blood in the corner of her mouth. The man's eyes, so dark that they appeared to be black, glared at her – but something had changed inside them. It could almost be defined as…respect.
"Then prove it," he commanded. He snapped his fingers at someone to the side, his eyes never leaving Sabé, and shouted, "Again!"
Darkness washed away the memory, but the pain intensified a hundredfold. Obi-Wan could barely maintain a hold on his consciousness, and he could sense the agony ripping through Sabé as the prolonged contact of their minds began to take its toll. He had to leave, now,or the consequences would be disastrous.

The Jedi Master ignored the pain as best he could, and swam up through the black water until a pinpoint of light appeared, guiding him back. As his awareness broke the surface, he sucked in a huge gulp of air, and his eyes snapped open, his fingertips leaving Sabé's temples as if they had been scalded. He blinked, struggling to clear his vision around the throb in his skull, and looked at Sabé. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, a grimace twisting her mouth, and Obi-Wan once again experienced a sharp stab of remorse. He tentatively touched her hand, clenched in a white-knuckled fist, and murmured, "Sabé?"
With a gasp, her eyes opened wide, unfocused and dark with terror. Her breathing was erratic, her heartbeat galloped madly, and her entire body shook like a dry leaf clinging to its branch in a windstorm.
She tried to spring to her feet and flee, air rushing in and out from between her lips in quick, little pants – but Obi-Wan's large hand grasped her wrist, holding her in place. "Sabé, you must remain calm," he ordered softly. Her head jerked wildly from side to side, eyes darting all around the room, and she twisted in his grip, nearly breaking his hold. He seized her other wrist, pulling hard enough to catch her attention without injuring her. "Look at me!"
The decoy's wide brown eyes met his, clarity slowly leaking into her frightened stare while tears left trails of moisture down her pale cheeks. Obi-Wan's heart cringed inside his ribcage as he witnessed her emotional anguish. He realized that he was already past the limit of his strength in the Force, but he could not leave her in this condition – not when he had the means to help.
He released one of her hands, and lifted a palm towards her face. Sabé recoiled, and Obi-Wan's hand froze in mid-motion. Gazing deeply into her dark eyes, he asked in a low murmur, "Do you trust me?"

Sabé's whole world had turned inside out and upside down. She was lost, confused, and utterly alone. The raw fear consuming her was like that of a small child, abandoned in the night – no one was coming to rescue her from the nightmares that stalked within the shadows surrounding her.
But there was a voice, calling out to her. It was soft, and calm, and she could hear concern in its tone.
Sabé blinked, willing her eyes to open, and stared into a pair of blue-grey eyes. They were the precise shade of the oceans on Naboo, and the kindness reflected inside tugged on her spirit. The voice asked a question, and it was echoed in those ocean-colored orbs: "Do you trust me?"
Obi-Wan sighed in relief when Sabé nodded. The vulnerable expression on her face made her look like a little girl, and that strange, unnamable emotion resurfaced within him. He placed his palm over her eyes and reached into the Force, flooding her frayed psyche with feelings of calm and safety. He clamped his teeth together to keep from moaning as the pain behind his eyes increased, sending fire into his brain, but he did not stop channeling the Force until he heard Sabé's breathing even out, and the wrist locked inside his grasp grew slack. Obi-Wan slowly removed his hand from her eyes, and it came to rest against her cheek, seemingly of its own accord. Her eyes fluttered open, and locked onto his gaze immediately. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.
"Yes. Thank you," Sabé answered, watching a pleased smile curve the Jedi Master's lips.
The expression made him look years younger, his eyes lighting up, and she was reminded of the quick-witted Padawan who joked with his Master and cut down dozens of Trade Federation droids with a single stroke of his lightsaber. He really was quite handsome, she thought to herself, when he wasn't acting so stern and aloof like all the other Jedi Masters she had met. And he was a true friend – Padmé had been very adamant on that fact when she and Sabé had conversed briefly before the meeting.
She would like to be his friend, as well.

Sabé returned Obi-Wan's smile, and a peculiar warmth illuminated the irises of her brown eyes, creating shimmers of coppery light that sparkled as she studied him. He sensed the flow of her emotions, yet was unable to discover the underlying motivation of its redirection. It was a heartbeat later that he realized he was still framing her cheek with his palm, and he abruptly withdrew, clearing his throat loudly.
"Yes, well – I am relieved that you have recovered. Now do you understand what awaits you in the Emperor's custody?"
She seemed confused for a moment, still feeling the impression of his hand against her cheek, wondering what had unnerved him…and when it hit her, she immediately sat upright, resuming the businesslike posture from before. "I think I have a pretty good idea," she commented wryly, "Not to mention the incredible headache you warned me about." She gingerly touched her temple, massaging it with her fingertips and wincing at the stab of pain.
"I managed to take some of the more intense pain away, but I'm afraid the rest will have to be cured by more conventional means." Obi-Wan said this casually, a slight grin lifting the corner of his mouth, but the concern in his gaze was unmistakable. "Would you prefer to contact a med droid, or shall we continue?"
"I'll survive," she remarked, squinting angrily up at the ceiling's glow panels. "What about you?" she asked, looking over at him. "Aren't you in pain?"
"I'll survive," he turned her words back on her, his grin tipping into a self-depreciating expression. "It's been a long time since I had to enter someone's mind and collect information. I was not expecting it to be quite as strenuous, though."
Sabé scooted closer, her face alight with curiosity. "Did you find what you were looking for?"
Obi-Wan gazed at her in silence for a moment, and then shook his head. "I didn't get any names – only images. I saw your brother's face; he was on a planet with a turquoise sky – a spaceport, from the looks of it – and there was a tree with purple leaves, the likes of which I have not seen. And I did hear part of a name: 'S-h'."

"That's it?"
He glanced at her, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. She did not seem disappointed. On the contrary, she looked absolutely delighted. A gleeful smirk tilted her full lips, and she asked eagerly, "Did you get anything else?"
"I did see several other things," Obi-Wan admitted with a shrug. "You were practicing Echani forms, and then – " He paused, and a speculative gleam entered his blue-grey eyes. "I saw you in a storm – training, I suppose, with a scarred, bald man whom you called 'Commander'." Sabé leaned back slightly, her stare becoming guarded, and Obi-Wan continued, "He was yelling at you to focus, and he called you something in a language I've not heard before. It was something like, dee-koot – dee-ko…"
"Di'kutla ad'i," Sabé supplied in a quiet, hesitant voice, her gaze faraway.
"Yes," Obi-Wan acquiesced, carefully studying her changing expressions. "What language is that?"
Sabé fixed her attention on the Jedi Master, scrutinizing him, as if she were debating whether or not to share all she knew. "It means 'idiot girl'. The Commander called me that a lot. He thought I didn't have the strength to endure their training because it wasn't 'bred into me,' like their children." She was still measuring him with her eyes, fighting an internal battle. "Actually, it was practically a miracle that they agreed to train me at all. They are a proud, fierce people; they like their traditions, their sense of honor, and their individuality. I learned much about their culture, along with their fighting techniques – the two concepts are so tightly interwoven that it was impossible to gain proficiency in one without the other.
They have their flaws, and still bear the weight of their ancestors' decisions, but they have an indomitable spirit. It's what drew me to them." Sabé suddenly glared at him sharply. "I do not want you to judge them before you hear what I have learned. I want your word, Master Kenobi."
"You have it," Obi-Wan agreed at once, feeling equally baffled and curious.
Sabé did not speak for a number of seconds. Then she opened her mouth, and said one sentence that stole the oxygen from Obi-Wan's lungs. "Di'kutla ad'i means 'idiot girl'…in Mandalorian."

Mandalorian.
The word itself awakened a torrent of emotion and memories within the Jedi Master. The Mandalorians were a warrior race of humans, dedicated to the glory of battle and the honor earned from victory.
Their history in this galaxy was a violent and bloody one. During the Sith War, over a thousand years ago, they were recruited by Exar Kun – a powerful Sith Lord, to fight against the Republic and the Jedi Order.
The remnant fled Republic space after Kun and Qel-Droma's defeat…only to return two decades later to set the Outer Rim ablaze with the fires of war. The Mandalorians attacked and conquered small worlds, carefully choosing those that were outside of Republic jurisdiction. Though these worlds pleaded for aid, the Senate voted not to intervene. The Republic's citizens were still recuperating from the effects of the war against Exar Kun; they had neither the resources nor the manpower to openly clash with the Mandalorians.
But remaining stagnant was a grave mistake.
Using the conquered worlds as a base of operations, the Mandalorian army fell upon three sectors in the Republic, crippling the planets and igniting widespread panic. There was no other choice but to retaliate, and the Mandalorian Wars began. Yet the Republic Fleet was vastly depleted, and ill-equipped for war – especially against a foe whose entire existence orbited around the thrill of conquest. The Republic had been overwhelmed, and begged the Jedi to intervene on behalf of the millions losing their lives to the Basilisk war droids raining down upon them.
But the Jedi Council refused. The Masters sensed a greater threat than that of the Mandalorians, and could not risk sending any among the Order into battle. This did not sit well with many Jedi, but two young Knights decided to do something about it.

Revan and Malak defied the will of the Council, called hundreds of Knights, Padawans, and apprentices to their cause, and met the Mandalorians head-on. Many were killed – on both sides of the conflict, plus the countless innocents caught in the crossfire. With the Jedi supporting them, the Republic won several key victories, halting the merciless tide of the Mandalorians' crusade. Revan was a tactical genius; the Mandalorians were completely unprepared, and impressed by this young, female Jedi commander.
Obi-Wan allowed himself a humorless chuckle. If Anakin had been born a millennia ago, he would have reacted the same way as Revan. In fact, Obi-Wan was convinced that his old Padawan would have rivaled the infamous Jedi-turned Sith Lord-turned Jedi in both power and reputation. With the full might of the Republic under her wing, Revan began to turn the tide of the war.
Of course, this only made the Mandalorians fight harder, having finally gained an opponent which they could test themselves against to the furthest limits of their abilities.
The Mandalorians finally met their end at Malachor V, and the resulting explosion destroyed nearly every life – Jedi, Republic, and Mandalorian alike – within a million kilometers, and reduced Malachor to a barely contained chunk of rock and noxious gas. They disappeared from history after that; when the Jedi Civil War erupted in the aftermath of the Mandalorian Wars, it had been rumored that a Mandalorian soldier from clan Ordo had traveled with Revan when she renounced the dark side and fought against her former apprentice, Malak. But aside from that, the children of Mandalore became nothing more than a distant memory. Mandalorian soldiers turned into mercenaries, security forces, blasters-for-hire, and were absorbed into the currents of the galaxy. Or so historians, and the Jedi Order, thought…until Obi-Wan arrived on Kamino four years ago.

When he met Jango Fett, the bounty hunter from which the entire Grand Army of the Republic was cloned, Obi-Wan had been expecting someone – well, someone who was not like Jango Fett. At first glance, the man seemed like any other bounty hunter: blunt, clever, and ruthlessly efficient. But their only conversation was filled with veiled threats and strange implications, leaving Obi-Wan with the impression that there was more to this than 'a simple man trying to make my way in the universe', as Jango had said. Especially in the cold, black stare he had given Obi-Wan as he spoke his parting words in a flat, emotionless voice.
"Always a pleasure to meet a Jedi."
There had been history in that phrase – an undying vendetta that lived within the blood in his veins, and that he wore as proudly as the Mandalorian armor covering his body as he fought Obi-Wan on the rain-soaked landing platform not ten minutes after that conversation drew to an abrupt close.
Jango had been a skilled opponent, and one that anticipated Obi-Wan's responses at nearly every turn – almost as if he knew exactly what to look for when fighting a Jedi. For example, Jango had lashed Obi-Wan's hands together with a fibercord just as he was calling upon the Force to retrieve his lightsaber from the ground. But despite his apparent knowledge of Jedi fighting styles, Jango Fett had met his end in the Geonosis execution arena, decapitated by one sure stroke of Mace Windu's violet blade.
Yet he lived on – in the laboratory-constructed genes of every clone trooper, and in his son, Boba.

Obi-Wan could not suppress the icy chill that shivered across his skin. An army comprised of the cloned descendants of an ancient warrior society that carried a grudge for all Jedi, under the absolute authority of a sadistic Sith Lord. The revenge of the dark side had also been the long arm of vengeance for the Mandalorians, reaching out from ages past to crush the Jedi once and for all.
Now Obi-Wan knew that other Mandalorians had survived, passing on their grudges and their combat techniques to future generations – priming themselves for another great battle that would consume the galaxy. And Sabé had sought out these people, wanting to learn about them, from them…
There was only one question he could ask, only one word that took precedence over every conscious thought in Obi-Wan's head.
"Why?"
Sabé looked at him, her forehead wrinkling in confusion even as her eyes narrowed infinitesimally.
"Why would you seek them out?" Obi-Wan asked, half-desperate, half-infuriated.
He was about to continue, but Sabé held up a single finger, her chin jutting out in defiance. "You gave me your word, Master Kenobi; do not judge them until you hear me out."
"Mandalorians, Sabé!" The anger was definitely winning out against his desperation to understand. "They are an aggressive, dangerous race – history is filled with gruesome tales of their exploits. And they have opposed the Jedi Order for millennia, even allying themselves with the Sith for a time."
"The Mandalorians owe no allegiance to the Sith now." Sabé's eyes were reduced to slits, filled with fire, and her voice was quiet, but deadly. "I realize that you harbor an inborn prejudice against them, and I can assure you that every Mandalorian child is taught to beware of Force users – Sith and Jedi, alike. What I am asking of you now is that you put everything you think you know about them aside, including your lofty opinions, and listen."

Obi-Wan could sense her willfulness, her stubborn need to make him hear her out, and he realized that – yet again – he had lost control of his emotions in her presence. His anger with Sabé for developing bonds with Mandalorians, when they had proven themselves to be the enemy of peace, bubbled inside his chest like a volcanic eruption. Now he understood the memory of the storm that he had witnessed within her mind, and fear jolted his thoughts as he wondered what else she had suffered at their hands.
He took a deep breath, inhaling through his nose, and the blood pounding in his veins started to slow. When he felt fairly confident that his voice would not betray the powerful emotions he had not yet reined in, Obi-Wan replied, "I am listening."
She glanced at him skeptically, inwardly wondering if all Jedi lost their objectivity so quickly – it was highly unlikely – and evaluated his body language. Tension was obviously in full display, tightening the square line of his jaw and the area around his eyes, but his breathing was deep and even, and his stare no longer bored into her like a mining laser – yet it was no less intense.

Sabé began her tale without preamble. "When my days as Queen Amidala's Royal Decoy were ended, I took on several security team positions for high-placed members of Nubian society, and eventually was drawn into the more widespread circle of galactic organizations. I had a stint as an internal security associate with the Commerce Guild – years before the war, of course – and a few other nationally recognized companies and public figures hired me on, as well. I tired quickly of the politics that entangled nearly every post I found myself in, and decided to take a break about seven years ago. I quit my last job, spent some time with my family on Naboo, and then paid a visit to my brother."
"Your brother…" Obi-Wan commented, stroking his beard. The Jedi Master had to admit that his curiosity was piqued in regard to her sibling after trying to seek him out within her mind. "You must be very close to him."
Sabé grinned widely. "I am. By the way, my brother's name is Shaelon – I call him Shae." Her eyes softened, embers glowing in their depths, and the love she felt for her brother washed over Obi-Wan in the Force like warm water. "He's five years older than me. My parents think that Shae's a bit of a rebel, and therefore not a very good influence on their only daughter, but I know they love him just the same. He left Naboo with some friends from Academy when I was twelve; I had just completed my decoy training, and didn't find out he was gone until five days later. I was devastated, and refused to speak to him through the holo reader for weeks. After the battle with the Trade Federation, I sent him a message – and we've been corresponding and planning visits ever since. But I digress."

She shifted a little, searching for a more comfortable position on the carpeted floor, and continued. "I met up with Shae at a cantina on Subterrel; he was always very secretive with me then. All I knew about his life was that he resided on a planet somewhere in Wild Space, was married to a Kiffar woman named Riah, and had two children – a boy and a girl. I had no idea what he did for a living, and every time that I asked, he would either ignore it or divert my attention. I learned to accept it; my career as a decoy was built upon secrecy, and I came to understand that whatever he did must be dangerous if he refused to tell me. Shae was always trying to protect me. He still is. But after I got done explaining to him why I was finished with security jobs and society altogether, his whole face changed. He saw me as an adult – a capable adult – instead of just his baby sister. And he realized that he could use my help."
"'Help' is very broad term," Obi-Wan remarked, an eyebrow quirking dubiously. "What, exactly, could he have used your help with?"
Sabé crossed her arms over her chest, staring hard at the Jedi Master. "Shae needed my help with some…entrepreneurial ventures. The pay was good, and the risks relatively low – well, lower than when I was Padmé's decoy. If I would agree to help, he would take me to his home and I could meet Riah, and my niece and nephew. And I had to swear not to tell anyone – especially my parents – what we were doing."
"He's a smuggler."
In response to her stunned expression, Obi-Wan shrugged one shoulder and declared offhandedly, "I am a Jedi, after all."

Sabé rolled her eyes, muttering something sarcastic under her breath that sounded like, "I couldn't tell…" Then she fixed him with a level stare as accurate as a blaster rifle's crosshairs. "Are you going to pass judgment on him, too?"
"I find it very unlikely that a man you hold in as high esteem as your brother would be involved in the more…unsavory aspects of the smuggling industry," Obi-Wan replied, his voice serene and modulated. "It seems plausible that he was either transporting food or medical supplies to impoverished worlds."
"You're right," Sabé agreed reluctantly, her brow lowering fiercely, creating deep shadows from which her brown irises sparked and sizzled with energy. "Shae knew that a profession in smuggling was illegal, but he refused to tarnish his ethics by accepting work from slavers or spice traders, even though the amount of credits they offered him was mind-boggling. How did you do that?" she demanded suddenly.
Obi-Wan blinked. "I beg your pardon?" he asked politely.
"How did you know that Shae was a smuggler – and one that stuck to food and medical shipments?" The spark in her eyes flared, like kerosene poured on a fire. "Did you use the Force on my mind again?"
Irritation sprang to life within the Jedi Master's placid attitude. He answered curtly, the syllables beating out a staccato rhythm, "I am a Jedi Master, Sabé, and an honorable man. I would never use the Force against you without your consent. It is not the way of the Jedi, and it is not my way."
Sabé leaned backwards, away from him, surprise rounding her mouth into a perfect "o" even as some of the fire died in her gaze. Obi-Wan wanted to smack himself in the forehead. What was the matter with him?
He was acting as brash and insolent as Anakin. Apparently his 'learning by example' mentality with his old Padawan was a two-way street. Of all the things he could have picked up from Anakin, why did it have to be his lack of diplomacy? And why did it have to manifest itself at such an inopportune moment?

"Don't center on your anxieties, Obi-Wan. Keep your concentration here and now – where it belongs."
The wise advice of his Master soothed Obi-Wan's rampaging thoughts of self-disappointment, and he took a few seconds to center himself in the Force before speaking.
"I did not use the Force," he continued, his usual cultured tone forming the words, and Sabé's taut frame visibly relaxed. "It was merely a simple deduction. The way you speak of Shae tells me that you revere him. You also indicated that he was a bit of a rebel, and your mention of 'entrepreneurial ventures' was further evidence of your brother's shady occupation. Plus the fact that Subterrel is a well-known haunt for smugglers on their way to and from Unknown Space. Unless you are a smuggler, or friends with one, it really is not the best place for a family reunion." Obi-Wan gave her a wry smile, and was relieved when she grinned back. "So – your brother wanted your help." He steered the flow of conversation smoothly in Sabé's hands once more, "I assume that you agreed?"
"Of course. I was itching for an adventure, and desperate to spend more time with Shae. We left the cantina, and he took me aboard his ship, the Vanguard. After introducing me to his co-pilot, Riah's brother Rida, we set a course for the Hydian Way. En-route, Shae explained to me that we were on an intercept course for a freighter transporting vital cargo from Eriadu to Ryloth. We had to catch it before it reached the Corellian Run, or else we would have some…conflicts with other smuggling vessels. I could tell from the way he spoke that this was a serious operation, one that was more dangerous than his usual runs – but I assured him that I knew how to use a blaster, or do anything else that he needed from me." Sabé sighed, shaking her head with a mocking half-smile. "I was twenty-one, and incredibly arrogant. Rida never spoke to me; he nodded in greeting, and answered all my questions by moving his head. He was an imposing presence, and the first Kiffar male I had ever met. With his facial tattoos, olive-toned skin, and thick black dreadlocks, any other girl in my place would have given Rida a wide berth. But I did not. I wanted to know why he stayed silent every time I was around. I doubt he knew the intense training I had undergone as a Royal Decoy, so I was able to read him easily enough. His black eyes smoldered with suppressed rage whenever he looked at me – but it was not because I repulsed him. He was repulsed by the very idea that I was aboard their ship, included in this mission.

I overheard Shae confront him about it a few hours before intercept, and his rough, gravelly whisper carried all the way down the corridor: 'The girl has no idea what you have gotten her into. That you would throw your only sister in her ignorance into this mynock nest; it sickens me.'
That was the first time I wondered what I had signed up for – the first time that I felt real fear for what lie ahead. Shae defended me, of course, saying that I was combat-trained and no stranger to risky situations, and that he would never have taken me along if he felt that it wasn't safe." Sabé fell quiet, her expression transforming into one of desolate sadness, and her melancholy echoes within the Force made Obi-Wan's heart turn over in sympathy.
"What happened?" he inquired softly.
Gazing at some unseen event, Sabé said bleakly, "Our intercept worked like a charm; the freighter was caught completely off-guard, and because Shae and Rida had hit these type of vessels before, they knew how to disable their shields and engines with a few precise laser blasts. We attached the Vanguard to the freighter's hull with gravitational magnets, and cut an entry through the durasteel plating. Shae looked at me, palming his blaster, and said that we had exactly twenty-seven minutes to transfer the cargo to the Vanguard and blaze out of there before the freighter's reinforcements arrived. He ordered me to stand guard at the hatch and oversee the cargo transfer, moving it into the main hold. I was confused. Why would a cargo freighter have armed reinforcements?
Shae ran off before I could ask, disappearing through the starboard hatch and into the freighter. Rida looked at me, glaring with his black eyes, and spoke directly to me for the first time. 'You must prepare yourself, girl, for what you are about to witness.' He grabbed my arm, jerking me closer, and I braced myself for a fight. He literally towered over me, but in his fierce, wild features, I saw a trace of concern. He growled, 'Do not leave the ship. Do not speak to anyone. Carry your blaster in hand at all times. Do not hesitate to defend yourself or this ship. Show your bravery, sister of my sister's mate.' And then he let me go.

I remember standing there in shock, my arm aching from his tight grip – but then I drew my blaster and approached the hatch, leaning slowly around the corner.
The freighter's corridors were dark, illuminated only by flashing yellow sirens, and the alarm klaxons wailed shrilly in my ears. Then I heard footsteps – lots of them. I held my blaster at the ready, expecting guards, or anything other than what greeted me when I looked again to mark a target.
Shae was sprinting down the corridor, followed by about thirty or so people, and he was holding a small Togruta child in his arms. Passing the child to me, he breathlessly told the others to follow my instructions, and assured them that we were going to get out of here…and then he ran back down the hall, towards the sound of distant blasterfire.
I led the group towards the main hold, my ears ringing – but not from the klaxons. I kept reciting the Handmaiden's Creed over and over in my head, using it as a focus to get me through the rest of this mission, because I was in real danger of becoming completely useless to my brother and to these people.
I felt like I was drowning in deep water – there was no sound, and everything around me appeared to be moving in slow motion. These people…they were the cargo we were supposed to intercept. The freighter was a slavery vessel. There were humans, Bith, Rodians, several Twi'leks, and the Togruta girl clinging desperately to me. I realized that they had been headed for the Ryll mines on Ryloth – a cheap labor force that would die out in a matter of weeks, only to be replaced by another unfortunate group in an endless cycle of greed and death.
My brain seemed to wake up at that moment, and I felt a surge pass through me, lighting my nerves on fire. This was what Padmé fought so hard against as a Queen and a Senator; this was what Master Qui-Gon had saved Anakin Skywalker from on Tatooine. This was the epitome of injustice in the galaxy, and I had been given the opportunity to do something about it.

The blasterfire echoed from the hatch, getting louder, and I tried to pass the little Togruta to another refugee, but she wound her arms tightly around my neck and wouldn't let go. Shae was shouting my name, saying that they needed cover fire. So I carried her with me, slapping a fresh charge in my blaster as I ran to the hatch.
Shae and Rida were being chased by five or six Weequay, each one toting a repeating disruptor rifle. I whispered to the little girl, 'Don't watch,' and took aim. I hit the closest one in the torso, and shot another right above the sternum. By then, the others realized that I was a threat and sent a volley in my direction. The girl screamed, her face buried in my neck, as sparks exploded around us and I dove sideways, jamming my shoulder into the Vanguard's hull.
Suddenly a trio of shots rang out from beside me. I spun sideways, bringing my blaster to bear…
It was one of the refugees, holding a long-range weapon with the casual grace of someone with experience.
I watched as the refugee took one Weequay down and injured another, giving my brother and Rida the few seconds they needed to climb through the hatch and into our ship. Shae bypassed us without a second glance – he knew we had to make the jump to lightspeed immediately – while Rida studied the refugee critically before turning to me. 'Nice shooting,' was all he said; then he disappeared into the cockpit.

The refugee who had helped us lowered the rifle, and I could see then that it was a woman, no more than two or three years older than me. She was more muscular than a typical female human – but now that I was able to examine her appearance, I noticed that she had long, rust-colored hair pulled back at the nape of her neck, and her face was beautiful – in a hard, fierce way, like the laser-cut edges of a diamond.
Smiling at me, she remarked, 'A high compliment from a Kiffar, ad'ika. That he spoke at all means that you have earned a small measure of respect.'"
Obi-Wan broke in to the flow of Sabé's narrative, commenting guardedly, "She was a Mandalorian."
Sabé nodded, aware that he had recognized the language. "She told me that her name was Kireta of the clan Mereel, a Mando'ad. She had been on her way home when slavers boarded her transport and she was taken prisoner with the other passengers.
'You are not like these other aruetiise,' she told me, setting the butt of the blaster rifle on the floor and holding it one-handed like a walking stick. 'Even the males cower like hut'uun while their comrades are threatened.' Though I did not understand her meaning, the look of disgust on Kireta's face when she said those words was unmistakable. Then her sharp features changed, growing speculative as she studied me. 'You showed no fear while fighting those Weequay, and you protected the child without becoming distracted.' Her dark blue eyes pierced through mine like a cortosis blade, and they were cautious – like she was weighing some critical decision in her mind.

She asked for my name, and when I told her, there was instant recognition on her face. 'A Nubian. And judging from the way you handle weaponry, you must have been a member of the Queen's personal guard. Tell me – did you fight against the Trade Federation when they invaded your homeworld?'
When she asked that particular question, I got the distinct impression that I was being tested – for what, I did not know. Kireta's attention never deviated from my face, and the speculation in her eyes brightened with each passing second. 'Of course,' I answered, offended that she could think I would just stand by and let those slimy Neimoidians conquer Naboo.
She seemed amused by my affronted behavior. 'You fought…even when your kinsmen are renown throughout the Republic for their pacifist ways. Would you still have fought, I wonder, if you had not been serving your Queen – when it was just you, ad'ika, defending your family from the swarms of battle droids?'
'What does that mean?' I finally asked, fed up with her probing questions and irritated that I could not understand handfuls of her words.
Kireta smiled at me, her amusement genuine, and slightly mocking. 'Ad'ika? It means 'child' – or 'kid', as per your aruetiise jargon. I call you ad'ika because that it what you are – a child.' Abruptly, the smile vanished. 'And you did not answer my question.'
'You want to know if I still would have fought?' I was shaken by her apparent knowledge of my past, adrenaline still pumping through my bloodstream from the firefight…and, as I said before, I was incredibly arrogant. She was right to call me a child. I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster, 'You seem to know so much about me; why don't you take a wild guess?'"

"You're lucky she didn't ram that blaster into your jaw and pull the trigger," Obi-Wan muttered darkly. "Mandalorians have zero tolerance for rudeness – which strikes me as ironic, to say the least."
"Well, like I said, I was stupid. I took off before she could reply, heading back to the main hold with the Togruta girl, who had clung to me – wide-eyed and silent – through the whole conversation.
As soon as I entered the hold, I was overwhelmed by the refugees, wanting to express their profound thanks for rescuing them. Rida had been in earlier and given them something to eat, and there were piles of thin blankets strewn across the floor. Once I could breathe freely again, I set the little girl on her feet and knelt to meet her eyes, asking for her name and where her parents were. The poor thing just stared at me with eyes that were too old for a child's face. I thought maybe she didn't understand Basic yet, so I tried the smattering of Togruti I had picked up from a friend during my Primary days on Naboo. Nothing.
A shadow fell over us, and I thought it was another grateful refugee, until I heard – 'Her name is Juhi Tey.' It was Kireta. 'Her mother was killed during the slaver's attack of our transport.'
Suddenly, she was kneeling beside me, talking to Juhi Tey in fluent Togruti. As I watched, the little girl threw her arms around Kireta's neck, and she hugged her back with surprising tenderness. Then, Juhi Tey skipped off at an urging from Kireta, waving at me as she went.
'What did you say to her?' I asked, still looking at the girl as she received a plate of food. I didn't dare look at Kireta – afraid of what I'd see on her face.
Her voice was calm as she replied, 'I told her that she had nothing to fear from the bad ones anymore, and that she would have a safe home with me and my aliit on Concord Dawn.'
I looked at her then; I couldn't help it. 'What's aliit mean – family?' She nodded, her expression unreadable. I was astonished. Why would this hardened woman from a warrior race hold out a hand of compassion to a small orphan girl?

She must have seen my disbelief, for she asked, 'You do not approve?' The eyebrow she arched high on her forehead told me she did not care in the least what my opinion was, but I gave it anyway.
'No – I mean, yes – I do. It's just… Why do you care?'
She didn't speak for some time – just sat back on her haunches, staring at me. Finally, she said in a low voice, 'Because I know what it's like to be alone in the universe. My aliit, my buir…they took me in, though they had no reason to open their home to one such as I. She will grow up strong, as I did, and learn to reach beyond her grief to find herself again.' She stood, and I scrambled to follow. She had that speculative, cautious look in her blue eyes again. 'Come – sit with me, Sabé.' It was the first time she used my name, and I knew instinctively that there was some significance in that.
We spent the remainder of the journey through hyperspace together, talking. I told her a little bit about my brother, my family on Naboo – but she was far more interested in my combat experience. Kireta was quite surprised that I had fought side by side with Jedi. She did not understand why the Order had been so involved in the liberation of a single Outer Rim planet. I could see right away that she did not trust the Jedi, and I remembered fragments of her people's history and their long-standing animosity of Jedi, or anyone deemed Force Sensitive. I wanted to ask her why Mandalorians felt that way, but it was not time for that conversation – not yet. I asked instead about her family. She told me that her aliit, or clan, was one of the few remaining groups of Mandalorians still living in Republic space. The locals of Concord Dawn steered clear of their chosen area in one of the few major cities, labeling it the Mando Quarter. Kireta also explained that her people were extremely suspicious of outsiders entering their domain, and no one was admitted into the Quarter without the express invitation of a member of one of the Mandalorian clans.
'How does someone receive an invitation?' I asked her.
The caution in her eyes intensified, and she answered slowly, 'They must prove themselves to be one who respects our culture, and have shown true spirit in battle.'
She did not offer any further explanation, and I did not press her…but inside, I was bitterly disappointed. Mandalorians were recognized for their superior fighting skills; I only wanted to study them in training, and perhaps pick up a few tricks. I constantly felt the need to better myself – I knew it was only a matter of time until the galaxy fell apart; history is doomed to repeat itself, after all. I of course, thought that I met Kireta's prerequisites for an invitation, but I did not think she was convinced.

Eventually, we reached the rendezvous point on Derra IV, and the refugees were given the choice to board another vessel bound for several peaceable worlds – or seek their own passage elsewhere. Kireta and Juhi Tey were the last to leave the Vanguard – Kireta asked to bid me farewell alone. Clutching tightly to Kireta's firm hand, little Juhi Tey beamed up at me and spoke for the first time, thanking me in thickly accented Basic. I bent down and hugged her, silently praying that the Mandalorians would not turn her into a heartless soldier. When I stood up, Kireta held out her free hand and I took it, gripping it in the traditional Mando'ad manner that she had taught me. 'You have proven yourself, Sabé,' she said. 'After you visit your family, come to Concord Dawn. Go to the cantina called The Bloodstone and ask for Gaide. When he asks, tell him that Kireta Mereel invited you, and this is your proof.' She pressed something into my hand, closing my fingers over it. 'See you soon.'
I watched her and Juhi Tey vanish into the crowds milling through the spaceport, then I opened my hand.
It was a thin, battered scrap of metal, its scratched and faded blue paint flaking off. There were unfamiliar symbols on the underside, scribed onto the metal in black ink. I put it in my pocket and raised the boarding ramp, hardly aware of what I was doing. I got to the cockpit, and Shae turned to me with a huge grin, announcing that our run was a complete success and we would divide up the payment at his home.
I spent a few weeks on Yalara with Shae, Riah, and their children – then I used a considerable amount of my portion of the credits to buy a small Corellian shuttle. Shae gave me a subspace comlink to get in touch with him, or vice versa, and told me to say hi to Mom and Dad for him. I told him that I wasn't headed back to Naboo just yet; I had something to take care of. Needless to say, he put two and two together…and he wasn't happy about it."

"He did not want you to go," Obi-Wan stated with certainty. "Not that I blame him."
Sabé rolled her eyes – a gesture that she had undoubtedly repeated with her brother. "He was being ridiculously overprotective, and I told him so. It's not like I was picking a fight with them; Kireta was my friend – as much as a Mandalorian is capable of making friends – and besides, I wanted to see how Juhi Tey was adjusting to their lifestyle.
Shae gave in – he always does – and made me promise to comm him the second things got out of hand. He had nothing to worry about, I said; it was just a visit with a friend…who happened to be a citizen of the most dangerous and feared society in the galaxy. But I never said that last part. I just hugged him, promised to come back in a few months for a longer stay, and took off.
Concord Dawn was nothing and everything I had expected. In a lot of ways, it reminded me of Tatooine – arid, hot wind sapped of moisture, clouds of dust swirling in the streets, and more than its fair share of questionable characters. I had dressed for the part; Riah had helped me select the form-fitting black jumpsuit and white spacer's jacket, and Shae made sure that I was well-armed: two blaster pistols," she patted the weapons still slung low on her hips, "each outfitted with repeaters and ammo regulators; a vibroblade, a mini shock pistol, and a handful of grenades. But…a young, attractive woman who spoke with a Core accent drew attention like a bantha attracts sand fleas. After threatening several would-be suitors, I made it to The Bloodstone cantina, and asked the barkeep where to find Gaide.

He pointed me in the direction of an enormous man clad in grey Mando armor, lounging in a far corner of the cantina. Gaide was looking right at me from the moment I walked through the door, and despite his intimidating size I refused to show fear – I worried that my invitation could be retracted. His face was deeply tanned, except for a thin scar that traced the left side of his jaw, and his hair must have been blond once – but was so bleached by Concord Dawn's sun that it had turned nearly white. He seemed mature, maybe about middle-aged, but the hard cast of his features made him look ancient beyond his years.
I thought about Kireta as I approached his table, remembering how she moved and acted, and decided to emulate her. I sat down in the chair across from him, slouching casually, and crossed my legs. 'You're Gaide?' I asked.
He smiled, but the expression was devoid of any emotion. 'You must already know who I am – else you wouldn't have sat down. You looking to hire? Then I suggest you try talking to the other patrons of this fine establishment. I'm busy.' He took a sip of his ale, his eyes daring me to provoke him.
I realized that probably every Mandalorian was born to be blunt and direct, so I would do the same. 'Kireta Mereel invited me.'
He set down his mug, the stare that was roving over my body appreciatively darkened with suspicion and turned more critical; he was assessing a possible threat. I held up the shard of metal, pinched between my fingers like a sabaac card. 'Here is my proof.'
Wordlessly, he held out a gloved hand, his gaze never leaving my face. I dropped it in his palm, and he looked down at it, flipping it over. He seemed to be reading the symbols etched on the back, his eyes narrowing as the silence lengthened. Suddenly, he tossed the shard to me, and I managed to catch it without embarrassing myself. 'We leave at once for the Quarter.' Gaide grabbed his helmet from the seat beside him and strode towards the door without another word. I hurried after him, following his massive hulk to a speeder bike parked in a nearby alley. 'Get on.' He spoke through his helmet, and for a second I was overcome with indecision. What was I doing? I was placing my life in the hands of a Mandalorian, who could very easily decide to drive out to the middle of the wastelands, shoot me and then leave my body to rot and be buried by the endlessly swirling dust.
Gaide revved the speeder's engine, and I jumped on behind him without completing another thought, except one. Kireta had saved my life by joining the fight against the Weequay guards. I had to believe in her people's sense of honor – not to outsiders, for they have none – but to each other.

We sped across the wastes – Gaide's armored body shielding me from the brunt of the blasting winds and grains of dust biting into my exposed skin – until we arrived at a section of the city that stuck out like a peninsula in an ocean. Driving through the streets, I noticed that every person was wearing some form of body armor, in a variety of colors. The speeder bike jerked to a halt, and Gaide pointed to a two-story building at the end of the street. 'The Mereel homestead. If you are who you say you are, Kireta will be waiting for you inside. If not – you will be shot as a trespasser.'
I could feel his eyes on me even through his helmet as I jumped off the bike and walked towards the homestead. I was more than a dozen paces away from the door when it suddenly flew open, and a small, dark blur tackled me, thin arms wrapping tightly around my waist. 'Sab'ika! You came!'
I looked down, dumbfounded, but all I could see was the tops of Juhi Tey's striped head-tails.
'She has been anxious for your visit, as I'm sure you can tell.'
When I saw Kireta, she had made a complete transformation. Though her diamond-hard features were still beautiful, she seemed more…at ease than when we were aboard the Vanguard. She was garbed in full Mandalorian body armor – the same color blue as the token she'd given me as proof of my invitation, and the breastplate had been painted with a lighter shade in a pattern that reminded me vaguely of reptilian scales. She stepped forward, hand outstretched, and I took it in a repetition of our last meeting. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two or three Mandalorians slide their hands away from their holstered weapons.
Kireta invited me inside, and Juhi Tey fairly dragged me through the door, babbling in excellent Basic – except for the few slips into Mandalorian.
The homestead was simple and unsophisticated, much like a moisture farmer's dwelling, and there were several members of the Mereel clan inside, already sitting around a large table. Kireta introduced me as the Nubian woman who had helped the smugglers, and whom she had invited to the Quarter."

Sabé paused here for a moment, her dark eyes clouding with uncertainty, and Obi-Wan discerned that she was leery of revealing the names of Kireta's family members. His suspicion was confirmed as she continued, "I met Kireta's father and mother, her grandfather, two brothers, an uncle, and three children, who grabbed Juhi Tey and pulled her to the far end of the table. I sat down beside Kireta, and was absorbed by this vivid, surreal scene. Nibbling on the food, I listened to the flow of conversation – not understanding a word of it, of course – but after a while I began to learn a few words and their meanings. Buir meant "father or mother", babuir "grandfather", and uj'alayi was the sticky, sweet cake that was served for dessert. And apparently, Sab'ika was a Mando moniker for my name, Sabé.
Something tapped my arm, and Juhi Tey was standing next to me, eyes bright, her young face full of happiness, and she asked me a question in Mandalorian. I felt Kireta freeze in the seat beside me.
'What?' I asked Juhi Tey.
She seemed to realize her error, and repeated herself in Basic. 'Are you going to train with Kire'ika and the others tomorrow, Sab'ika?'
The room was deathly quiet.
Juhi Tey's small face filled with fear, and the other children pulled her aside, disappearing into another room. I looked around the table, and every pair of eyes was focused on me – like laser points on a sniper rifle. Kireta stood up, and started speaking in hushed tones, gesturing to me and to herself, her phrases controlled and fluid, as if she had rehearsed them.
When she finished, her father glanced at me, his stern expression lined with deep skepticism, and asked in a rough bass voice, 'And what does the aruetii think about your proposal, daughter?'
Kireta looked down at me, her lips pressed into a thin line. Then she muttered, 'I told them that you are worthy to accept training, and that it is your desire to learn of our ways. You would complete as much of the training as you are able, given that you are not of our blood, but it is not an easy path.
There are many who would oppose you – but if you agree to our terms, the Mereel aliit will offer protection as long as you remain on Concord Dawn.'

'What are these terms?' I was pleased that my voice came out sounding relatively normal.
Kireta gazed over that her father. He answered, 'You will live among us as a Mando'ad. You will not leave until the training is completed, or you are deemed incapable of finishing. You will also swear an oath that you will never reveal to your Republic what you have seen or heard, and you will obey the word of any ranking Mando that crosses your path – especially that of your clan, and your sponsor, Kireta.'
'And when my training is completed?'
'You will be free to come and go as you please. The terms of your oath will have been fulfilled.'
I agreed. Right at that moment, I swore to not speak of anything I learned or saw during the training, I would obey the elders of Mando'ad, and I would uphold the honor of the Mereel aliit. That's the night I received this:" Sabé rolled up her right sleeve to show Obi-Wan a black tattoo, inscribed on the soft skin in the crook of her elbow. It looked like just lines and swirls to Obi-Wan, but as he laid a fingertip over the ink, he felt the ceremonial significance, the meaning it carried, through the Force. "It's the Mandalorian symbol ka'rta, or heart," Sabé explained. "Kireta chose it because she wanted me to have a daily reminder that it took a strong heart to survive – in my training, and in life."
Obi-Wan slowly removed his finger from her skin, and she rolled her sleeve back down, eyeing the Jedi Master carefully. "The next day, the toughest six and a half months of my life began. I had wanted a challenge, and I got it in spades. There were many days when I thought that I couldn't take any more…just to get up and do it again. And Kireta was right; many other Mandalorians, who thought it was blasphemous to teach their combat techniques and lore to a female outsider, opposed me. But the influence and prestige of the Mereel clan protected me wherever I went on Concord Dawn. Kireta was my near-constant shadow; she would drill me in the brief moments between frenzied motion on her people's history and codes of conduct. As the months progressed, I was able to spar with her and survive for more than a minute, and as I neared the end of my training, the Commander decided it was time for a little…experiment."

Obi-Wan straightened slightly, the vision of the imposing figure from Sabé's memory rising to the forefront of his thoughts. "This Commander…he was the man shouting at you during the storm?"
She nodded. "More than anyone else living in the Mando Quarter, he opposed my presence the strongest. At every turn, he pushed me harder than the other raw recruits, seeking to undermine my self-confidence. When he picked me for some unconventional training, I was more than a little wary – I was downright terrified. Kireta said that the reason he pushed me so hard was because he saw great potential in me, and just as their beskar armor is forged through fire and the pounding of the hammer, I was being forged into a true Mandalorian warrior. She convinced me to take on the challenge.
Kireta and I met the Commander at an area on the outskirts of the Quarter. He was alone – and as we approached, he called out, 'Kireta tells me that you fought with the Jedi, ge'verd.'"
"What did he call you?" Obi-Wan interrupted curiously.
To his mild amusement, Sabé blushed, embarrassment rippling off of her Force signature. "Nearly everyone called me that during my time on Concord Dawn. In Mandalorian, it means 'almost a warrior'. In Basic, it would roughly translate into 'wannabe'.
She glared when Obi-Wan chuckled quietly, but there was no real anger behind her expression. "I told him that Kireta spoke the truth, and then he held out an object, clenched in his hand. I was not sure what it was until a bar of yellow light appeared, its hum filling the air." Sabé studied Obi-Wan's reaction carefully, wondering whether or not to continue. The Jedi Master remained motionless, genuine interest on his bearded face – but his blue-grey eyes sharpened.

"The Commander explained that the kad'au – lightsaber – had been passed down through his family for generations. His ancestor, Bralor, had fought in the Mandalorian Wars and acquired the blade in single combat against a Jedi. How he had succeeded in defeating that Jedi was what every member of Bralor's line learned upon completion of their training. For some unknown reason, the Commander chose me. When I asked, he only said that I had shown the strength of will required to master this particular discipline.
I am bound by the vow the Commander insisted that I take not to disclose any details…but I can give you a basic outline. You're smart – you should be able to figure out the rest.
Since Mandalorians shun Force users, they had to invent ways to duplicate the mental prowess and unpredictability of Jedi, or Sith. The training was overwhelming for the mind and the senses. It forced me to find a center for my thoughts – to become absolutely still – so that my actions would not become visible until my body was already in motion. It also taught me to recognize the precursors for a Force attack; though it was unavoidable in a true fight, a few seconds of anticipation could be enough to prevent from getting slammed into a wall or electrocuted by Force lightning."
"So it was training for your mind more than anything else," Obi-Wan said, brow furrowed in contemplation as he fingered his beard. "And this is what you intend to employ against the Emperor?"
"I admit that my own skill has not been tested before today," Sabé flashed him a brilliant grin. "But it seemed to have some degree of success, did it not?"
The Jedi Master slowly dropped his hand, staring at Sabé with a mixture of insight and incredulity. "That was what you were using against me – why your thoughts were so unfocused and chaotic. You were deliberately keeping your mind from concentrating on the information that I was seeking."

She nodded, grimly triumphant. "It is very difficult, especially countering the suggestions of a more powerful consciousness, but it does work. It's called Jetiise Hukaatir – Jedi Shield."
"But, I do not understand." Obi-Wan frowned at her, trying to solve this puzzle on his own, for he knew that Sabé would not break her vow. "When your thoughts began to take shape, you called up the visualization of Echani shadow-boxing – and then the memory of your training experience in the storm."
His face suddenly cleared, lighting up with knowledge as he breathed, "You used it as a feint, shifting your focus to an event that required intense concentration, or a powerful memory that triggered a wave of emotion. And in the meantime, you were able to draw my attention away from what I was searching for, effectively trapping me within your subconscious." He looked at her expectantly, certain that he had unraveled the mystery, and feeling slightly awed that she had utilized this training so well during their test.
Sabé was smiling, dark eyes sparkling with approval. "I knew you could figure it out."
"Although, I sincerely hope that you do not have to discover how effective your 'Jedi Shield' will be against a mind as warped as Palpatine's," Obi-Wan remarked, and began unfolding his legs from his meditative posture.
Sabé sprang to her feet quickly, looking down at him with her hands perched lightly on her hips. "So… do I pass your test, Master Kenobi?" she asked, a teasing smirk curving her full lips.
"Hmm…" He eyed her critically, playing along, "I suppose you'll do. After all –" He raised a hand, and she grasped it, preparing to help him up " – beggars can't be choosers." He grinned broadly, positive that he had finally landed a verbal blow.

In response, Sabé promptly let go of his arm, and Obi-Wan hit his backside hard on the floor, air rushing from his lungs with an, "Oomph!"
"You were saying, Master Kenobi…?"
He scowled, barely resisting the urge to rub his injured bottom. "What I meant to say…" He braced a palm on the floor and tried to push himself to his knees, "Is that you are the best equipped woman for this specific assignment."
Sabé made a satisfied sound in the back of her throat; then she bent down, threw his free arm over her slender shoulders, wrapped her arm around his waist, and pulled him to his feet. Obi-Wan staggered a bit, but she seemed more than capable of supporting his weight. The crown of her head brushed the side of his face as she adjusted her stance, and he felt the silky-soft texture of her hair against his skin.
Obi-Wan Kenobi was the definition of a Jedi. Anakin used to joke that his old Master had been born in the Order's traditional brown robes, quoting the Code even before he learned to speak. But to say that he was immune to the emotions and flaws that accompanied his humanity would be a vast understatement. He had experienced many such raw emotions in his lifetime: anger, fear, pride, and even love. Over the years, thanks in part to his training and the wisdom that comes with age, Obi-Wan had learned to recognize these feelings before they were allowed to manifest inside his heart. Therefore, the Jedi Master was able to maintain the serenity needed to counterbalance his turbulent Padawan and friend. It was part of the reason why he had been chosen as a member of the Council – for his tranquil spirit and keen point of view.

Yet now, from a simple, accidental touch, all those years of emotional control threatened to collapse.
His heart was beating abnormally fast, and the room was suddenly too hot. His legs felt weak, but strength surged into his arms and subtly tightened his grip around Sabé's shoulders. More than anything else, Obi-Wan was amazed by how vivid his vision had become, as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes – a veil that he never knew had even been there in the first place.
The head so near to his shone with brown hair that glimmered with traces of gold and copper, and he could just make out the curve of her satin-smooth cheek within the shadows. He found himself wishing that she would look at him…
At that moment, the Jedi half of Obi-Wan subdued those ridiculous, adolescent notions with a flood of Force-induced calm. He was a Jedi Master, after all, just like he had told Sabé. Despite the way that Anakin had decided to live his life, there were lines that had been drawn millennia ago that Obi-Wan would never cross. He was content with how he lived – it was all he had ever wanted. It was only a one-time lapse in control, brought on by his wounded psyche and divided attention. And he put it from his mind.
All of this had happened in the breadth of a few seconds. Sabé felt Obi-Wan's arm contract, and then relax, and glanced sideways, his profile visible from the corner of her eye. "Are you all right, Master Kenobi?" she asked, concerned.
"Yes, I'm fine." He removed his arm from her shoulders, pulling away from her hold, and steadied himself by grasping the edge of the conference room's massive table. Sabé watched him get his bearings; his voice had been calm, as always, but she glimpsed signs of tension in the line of his jaw and the tendons of his hand as it rested on the tabletop. She erased the scrutiny from her expression as he raised his eyes to hers, smiling faintly. "And I would be most appreciative if you would call me Obi-Wan."

She looked unduly pleased by his offer to address him in an informal manner. "Obi-Wan," she paused, as if testing his name on her tongue, "Do you still need that painkiller?"
"Normally, I would say that the Force would sustain me." He grunted, rubbing the space between his eyes, "But I think I must resort to the more standard means of relief."
"If that means that you could use enough tranquilizer to put down a full-size gundark, then I'm with you," Sabé remarked, finishing her sentence with a long, drawn-out groan as she fell into a nearby chair, limp as a rag doll.
Obi-Wan laughed – a full-throated sound that rumbled deep in his chest. "You do remind me of Anakin," he said amid low chuckles.
She opened her eyes just barely, squinting at him. "That's what Padmé always says."
Sabé watched Obi-Wan shuffle over to the control panel by the door, pushing the call button to summon a med droid. "There is something I'd like to ask you," she said as he made his way towards a chair. Waiting until he was seated, she spoke with her head leaning far back against the seat cushion, "When we first met on Naboo, and you were still a Padawan Learner – did you…sense that I was not really the Queen?"
"Qui-Gon taught me to be alert for deception on all fronts," Obi-Wan answered carefully, "But also to expect certain degrees of subterfuge when dealing with politics; secrecy is embedded in the nature of affairs of state. And at the time, the fog created by the dark side was growing stronger, and more dense, hiding many things from the eyes of the Order at large."
Sabé just looked at him, her head lolling to the side. Then she said, "Is that a yes or a no?"

He sighed. "No, I did not sense that you were pretending to be Queen Amidala. As I said, both my Master and I expected to feel some level of conspiracy from the Queen and her aides – and in reality, you were only standing in physically for Padmé. She was still leading the entire operation, only under the guise of a handmaiden."
"That's not going to work now, is it? I mean – the whole 'levels of conspiracy' thing." Sabé made a circular gesture with her hand.
"Against the Emperor? I think not; at least, not in the same way." Obi-Wan sat up a little, pulling absently on his beard once more. "I believe that Padmé and Anakin were correct in telling you that Palpatine will expect some deceit from you, but he will also be highly sensitive to the smallest change in your Force signature. This assignment will be the greatest test of your abilities, Sabé. You must become Padmé Amidala – inside and out."
Sabé continued to gaze at him, even as the door of the conference room slid open and a med droid entered, floating over to Obi-Wan's side. "What can I do for you, Master Jedi?" the droid queried in a pleasant, feminine voice.
"We are both in need of a moderate dose of pain medication." Obi-Wan gingerly touched his forehead. "We seem to be suffering from mild migraines."
The droid insisted on conducting a cranial scan before administering treatment – and when their condition was confirmed, it gave both Obi-Wan and Sabé an injection directly into the carteroid artery, so blood-flow would carry the medication quickly to the pain's epicenter.
"I recommend that you both head to the dining commons and consume several high-protein foods," the med droid ordered in a stern tone as it disposed of the sterile needle used on Sabé's neck.
"I am hungry…" Sabé admitted, laying a palm on her stomach.
"Then it's decided." Obi-Wan clambered to his feet, listening as the med droid gave him directions to the dining commons, and waited until Sabé stood next to him before moving towards the doorway.

As they walked – Sabé slowing her pace to match Obi-Wan's, and Obi-Wan pretending that he did not notice – he glanced sideways at her and commented mildly, "I suppose it's my turn now."
"Your turn?"
"My turn to fascinate you with a grand story of my feats as a Jedi." He quirked an eyebrow good-naturedly. "Though I don't think I have any material as exciting as joining a Mandalorian clan…"
She elbowed him in the ribs, all the while wondering what had caused this sudden change of mood in him. Obi-Wan had gone from gravely serious to lighthearted and teasing in the blink of an eye. Or maybe he was usually like this and she did not know him well enough yet to anticipate his behavior.
Either way, Sabé was reminded again of the sharp-eyed Padawan who had literally appeared out of nowhere to save her and her party from being escorted to a Trade Federation prison camp.
She tapped her chin, feigning thoughtfulness. "Well…I can think of a story you can tell me while we eat."
"What is it?"
"Tell me about your fight with General Grievous."
Obi-Wan shrugged, seeming nonchalant. "There's not much to tell. We fought – I won, he lost."
"That's not a very grand story, Master Jedi. I'm feeling far from fascinated."
"I'm working up to it," he protested, and Sabé stifled a giggle. Suddenly, Obi-Wan's nose wrinkled in distaste. "I do recall that I had to use a blaster at one point. So uncivilized."
She managed to keep a straight face. "What happened to your lightsaber?"
"It…fell."
A questioning eyebrow rose over one of Sabé's almond-shaped eyes, but she chose to ask a different question. "But didn't Grievous use lightsabers? I thought he took them from Jedi he had killed."
Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. "Oh, yes. I seem to remember that he had four in hand during the course of our duel."
"Four?"
"I told you that it would be fascinating."

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Pronunciations and Definitions
Mandalorian
dekutla ad'i (dee-KOOT-lah ahd-EE): "idiot girl"
ad'ika (ahd-EE-kah): "child, kid"
Mando'ad (MAN-doh-ahd): "Mandalorian" literal: "Child of Mandalore"
aruetiise (ah-roo-ay-TEE-say): "outsider, one of 'them'"
hut'uun (hoo-TOON): "coward"
aliit (ah-LEET): "family, clan"
buir (boo-EER): "father/mother"
babuir (bah-boo-EER): "grandfather"
uj'alayi (OOH-jah-LIE-ee): "dense, sweet cake coated with syrup"
ka'rta (KAH-er-tah): "heart"
beskar (bess-KAR): "Mandalorian iron"
ge'verd (ge-VAIRD): "almost a warrior"
kad'au (kahd-OW): "lightsaber"
Jetiise Hukaatir (jay-TEE-say HOO-kaht-EER): "Jedi Shield"

Names
Shaelon (SHAY-lahn)
Riah (rhy-AH)
Rida (rhy-DAH)
Kireta (ky-RAY-tah)
Mereel (meh-REEL)
Juhi Tey (ju-HEE tay)
Gaide (gayd)
Sab'ika (sahb-EE-kah)
Kire'ika (ky-ray-EE-kah)
Bralor (BRAY-lor)

Reference Material/Credits
Mandalorian language
Karen Traviss (author of Republic Commando series, Bloodlines, Sacrifice, and Revelation)
Wookieepedia

Mandalorian history
Tales of the Jedi: The Sith War
Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic and Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords video games

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Author's Note

I was strongly opposed to writing one of these until the end of my story, but I've come to the conclusion that this chapter merits an explanation. I'm sure that some of you must be thinking, "What does this have to do with anything?" I promise – every word of this chapter has significance to the future plotline.
To be entirely truthful, I wanted the opportunity to take a character like Sabé – who has virtually no canonical background – and give her a soul, as it were. The idea of adding the Mandalorians sprang from the intermingling of their story and culture throughout the Knights of the Old Republic video games, and was reinforced by the recent novelizations in the Legacy of the Force series. I thought to myself, what could be more appropriately ironic than a Jedi supporter learning to fight against Force techniques from a society that bears an ancient grudge towards the Order?

Adding the Mandalorian language appealed to me as well, seeming to give this chapter more flavor and credibility, so to speak. It's been my goal throughout this whole process to put together the story that I wanted to tell, and give it enough depth to stand up as plausible fact within the Star Wars universe. I only hope that I succeeded in giving the Mando'ad people a worthwhile interpretation.
And before you ask – yes, I made up every character mentioned in Sabé's narrative (her brother Shae, Riah, Rida, Kireta, Juhi Tey, Gaide, and the Commander) – all except for the name that fans of the Knights of the Old Republic games might have recognized. Bralor was a Mandalorian warrior at the camp on Dxun that the Exile met during Knights of the Old Republic: The Sith Lords.
Also, the Mando'ad family name of Mereel is the clan from which Jango Fett's mentor, Jaster Mereel, came. Just a little tidbit you might want to remember for future reference…

Lastly, in regards to this chapter, I wanted to briefly touch on my decision to add some colorful brushstrokes to the relationship between Obi-Wan and Sabé. I know all those Sabéwan fans out there are probably ecstatic – but I have to confess that I felt conflicted about treading this uncertain ground at all.
In fact, I held the viewpoint that Obi-Wan, despite the brief relationship he had with Siri Tachi in Secrets of the Jedi, was set in his ways. And I liked him as such. To me, he always seemed like the guiding mentor and steadfast friend that Anakin needed him to be.
But, since I've embarked on this journey, I've had numerous opportunities to 'get inside his head' – and I've come to realize that Obi-Wan Kenobi is a very complex character. I thoroughly enjoyed writing his reactions in this chapter, and look forward to unraveling some of his complexities while exposing even more tangled threads of his personality.

I'll close the door to my strange, whimsical mind now, with a few final words.
Thank you. Thank you to all the wonderful readers out there who take the time to immerse themselves in this universe and feel like there truly was a happier course for the lives of Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala to take than the one given them. And thank you to those who reviewed, and continue to review with each posting. Your compliments and words of encouragement are the lifeblood of my creative muse; I owe each and every one of you.
I plead with those of you who have not reviewed yet: please, please devote just a few minutes of your time to write a review. I would be every so grateful, and I cannot express just how much it means to me when I check my inbox and see that little "review posted" e-mail.
Thank you for listening to my ramblings. Keep an eye out for the next chapter, which I will hopefully post within a month, at most. To satisfy your curiosity, and because you must have read through my whole note, I'll reward you with the title: The Road Unseen. We'll be getting back to Anakin, Padmé, and their now-shared conundrum in regards to their bond and the continuing influence of the dark side.
Finally, if you would like to see the cover art for Wait for Me, there's a link on myprofile page.
Send in those reviews! And thank you again!