Chapter Eighty-Three: The Funeral

It was rare that outsiders were let into the Jedi Temple. Those that worked in it went through vigorous venting and background checks to even gain access. One of the times there were exceptions, though….were funerals.

It was rare that a Jedi was close with someone outside the Temple. Enough for them to come to their funeral, at least. But in these weird times where the Jedi dipped their toes in politics and war alike, they had a wider variety of people they would call friends.

Even the Duchess of Mandalore had made the trip for the event. She, along with Senator Amidala, were clad in black dresses. Satine had tears streaming down her face, her hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her cries. I stood on Padme's other side, my eyes on the covered form of Obi-wan. There were Jedi all around us, their hoods pulled up to cast shadows over their features. Ahsoka and Plo-Koon were beside me, the padawan's troubled spirit tapping at my thoughts. It was hard to focus on anything with Anakin's darkness, though.

He was standing at Obi-wan's feet, his stare unfaltering and brewing with anger and sorrow. Ahsoka was staring at him, but I couldn't bring myself to look again. When I had, I was smacked in the face with visions of his mother's death. Of Qui-Gon's funeral. Of Obi-wan falling from a rooftop, chest steaming from the blaster shot.

I couldn't bear to see it again.

Still, it all felt wrong. Obi-wan's body was beneath a cloth before us, surrounded by senators and jedi who loved him. He was gone, yet something felt off in the Force. Of course, it was hard to feel anything but Anakin right now, his Force signature was so potent and dark. And I knew it was hard to feel things on Coruscant, seeing as there are so many people and the war and the endless conflict is blurring everything. But still….why hadn't I felt Obi-wan pass?

Maybe it was cocky to think that I would have the ability to feel that at all.

Ahsoka's voice sounded quietly beside me, drawing my gaze. She was looking at Plo Koon, but I listened anyway. "I'm worried about Anakin." That was probably a fair concern. "He hasn't said a word since it happened."

So Ahsoka was there. I felt her sadness, and it was deep. But it was overshadowed by her immense concern for her master. There was a fear, way down inside her, that she would lose him too.

I didn't think that fear was invalid, considering how often Anakin seemed to jump rope with the line between Light and Dark anyways. I did that too, but at least I recognized the immense dangers that came with that. And how difficult it was to not dive headlong into the Dark Side sometimes.

Anakin didn't, and that was what scared me the most.

Obi-wan's body was lowered beneath the floor into the cremation chamber. The doors sealed over him, the unit flooding with light before a beam shot up from the floor to kiss the ceiling. If Anakin's Force signature had been a physical entity, it would have snuffed out all the light in the room at that moment.

Satine let out a loud cry as the light faded, the Jedi bowing their heads a final time. I dared to look at Anakin, but had to quickly avert my gaze over his shoulder. Rex and Cody were near the doors, their helmets at their sides. Rex gave me a small, reassuring nod, but I could feel his uneasiness at his general's behavior, too.

The crowd began to leave, Anakin being one of the first to storm out. Everyone watched him go in silence. I could feel Padme wanting to go after her husband, but she was practically holding up the crying Duchess. With a slow sigh through my nose, I turned to the pair, offering them a well-trained smile. It was soft and reassuring, but not too proclaiming in nature.

"I'm so sorry, Duchess," I said gently, offering my arm to the distressed monarch. "Please allow me to escort you. Perhaps sharing stories would bring you joy in this time." I wanted to vomit with how proper my words were. I didn't use that form of speech often, and it usually wasn't in any situation I liked.

Senator Amidala gave me a knowing look, followed by a nod of thanks. Satine surely knew as well, letting her friend pass her to me. The duchess leaned on me heavily, more so than she or Padme had let on; I supposed the two had as much training keeping up appearances as I did.

Padme was gone immediately, following after her husband as stealthily as she could. Many of the Jedi had left the room already, so it was pretty easy for her. I turned and led the Duchess from the room, where we met her small security team. They gave us room to speak freely as we walked through the halls, but neither of us spoke.

"Did you really wish to speak with me or did you just want to free the Senator from my grief?" she asked suddenly, making me glance at her with a raised brow. Many knew her to be blunt, but I still hadn't expected a question like that.

If she was going to be frank, so was I. "Mostly the latter," I admitted with a shrug. "I don't think you want to talk to me either, though."

Satine sighed, patting at her eyes with her handkerchief again. She didn't respond and I immediately felt like I'd been too harsh. She'd just lost the man she loved, after all. For a brief moment I wondered where the cold-hearted mir'sheb that I used to be had gone.

Then again, it had been a long time since I'd been that person.

"If you did want to hear stories," I started slowly, "I do have some. I'm not a great storyteller and I can't lie and say there won't be some bad stuff. It's war, so-"

I was cut off by the duchess chuckling, the laughter sounding wet with her residual tears. "You're very sweet," she said finally as she wiped her eyes again. "Which isn't something I thought I'd say to someone in beskar armor."

I glanced down at myself, giving her a smirk. "It's customary to wear your beskar to a funeral, My Lady," I dared to tease, "You should know that, being the ruler of Mandalore and all."

"Beskar armor like yours was from a different time," she said immediately, as if she was hardwired to say it. "We are a changed people."

I wasn't offended by her jump at my words. Grief works differently in everyone, and her views of her own society were more valid than mine. And in the same way, I wasn't even a Mandalorian. So her views didn't affect me either.

"I commend how much you've strived for peace," I allowed, despite still disagreeing with some of her tactics. There were flaws in her methods, but that was true anywhere in the entire galaxy.

The duchess glanced at me and gave a nod. "Thank you. Obi-wan spoke highly of you. He saw you as his friend."

I smiled gently, my chest aching at the reality of him being gone. Something still felt wrong, though. Maybe it was that his killer was still out there.

"And he loved–" my words were cut off by my wrist comm beeping wildly, Satine jumping at the sound. "I'm so sorry," I offered quickly before tapping my wrist. Apex's voice sounded in my earpiece. I only heard "Kenobi's killer" and I was already turning on my heel. "I'm sorry, Duchess," I called back to her. "But I might have information on the assassin. I need to go."

"Go!" she cried after me, giving a wave. "Bring him in so he may stand trial! And Miss Fett?" I stopped in my tracks at her use of my father's name. "I will want to hear those stories about Obi-wan….one day."

My lips curled in a smile. "Yes, My Lady." I was off, running back through the halls towards the cremation chamber again. Ahsoka and Plo Koon were nowhere to be found, and I didn't recognize any of the few Jedi who were milling around.

Finally, I spotted Masters Windu and Yoda moving slowly down an empty hall. I sighed, knowing Windu still didn't like me much, but went after them anyway. "Master Yoda," I called, preferring his attention to Windu's.

Both Jedi turned, seeming startled at the fact that I was still in the Temple. "What is it, Fett?" Windu asked. A part of me was annoyed that he answered even though I called Yoda. Another part reminded me that I was only annoyed because the man was always pissed at me about something.

That tended to grate on a person's attitude.

I held up my wrist comm anyways, ignoring my emotions in preference to finding Obi-wan's killer. "When a messenger came to my club, I immediately sent out pings to my trustworthy contacts, looking for a name."

The Jedi glanced at each other briefly, beforeWindu nodded. "And were you able to get one?"

"Rako Hardeen," I answered immediately, crossing my arms to mimic the human Jedi. "The Marksman of Concord Dawn." I rolled my eyes. If I remembered correctly, Jango was born on Concord Dawn.

"The Mandalore Sector, that is."

Windu hummed in response to his master. "Do you think the Mandalorian radicals played a part in this?"

Something about their words felt….wrong. I frowned, watching them closely, but it was hard to pin down. They must have sensed my discomfort, the two looking back at me suddenly.

"I don't think he's working for some radical group. Not for any reason other than money, at least." I shrugged at their frowns. "He's a bounty hunter."

"You fight for a cause," Windu argued. My suspicion of him was only rising now. He was never one to deter a topic.

Still, I snapped my fingers at him with a smirk. "A cause that pays me." Sure, we all knew I had a connection to the war now. A drive within it. But if I wasn't getting paid, I probably wouldn't have done it at all. I steered the conversation back on course with clenched teeth. "An acquaintance of mine saw Hardeen in sector G17, going into a bar called Treuping's." When they paused in their responses, I plowed on. "I can go and have him in custody within a few hours–"

"Leave that to us," Windu cut me off with a wave of his hand.

Yoda glanced at his companion, taking in my glowering expression. "Capture Hardeen, the Jedi will. First, more questions for you we have."

The older master's tone was less aggressive than his friends, cooling some of my anger. I crossed my arms but nodded for them to continue nonetheless. "Do you know the name Moralo Eval?" Windu asked, mimicking my stance.

My brow lifted immediately. "Of course. He's a nutcase. Why?"

The Jedi exchanged glances again. "Tell us what you know about him."

"What's with all the secrets?" I asked, refusing to give them more. "Why do you need to know about some criminal who sometimes pretends to be a bounty hunter?"

"How so?" Windu pressed.

I shook my head, glaring at him. "Why do you want to know about him?" I wasn't about to move on this. I could feel Yoda's trepidation at the rising frustration boiling in the air between Windu and I. Before the elder could interfere, though, Windu's patience ran out.

"Are you trying to impede a Jedi investigation?" he asked with his nose turned up. "You do not need to know more information. Your job is to give information to us."

My fists clenched at my sides, but I held my anger in. I was actually glad they didn't let me bring my weapons into the Temple. Otherwise I might have been fighting Mace Windu in that moment. "You'd arrest me?" I asked, not really putting the notion past Windu.

"We've done it before," he responded smoothly.

Yoda broke in before either of us could take it further. "Fight, you two cannot. Strong, we are together. Only then can we win the war."

I licked my lips, and stared at the wall between the Jedi. "Moralo Eval is crazy, but incredibly intelligent. He's merciless and unpredictable, and I've really only heard of him a few times."

"Have you met him?" Windu asked.

"No, but I've heard that he killed his mother when he was young because he was bored. Or at least, that's why he said he did it." My arms folded across my beskar-covered chest, my brow arching as I watched Windu closely. A part of me expected him to return the favor and explain why they wanted to know about some serial killer who was already captured–in their own prison, even.

Yet, I wasn't really surprised when the Jedi thanked me for the information and turned to leave. My scowl deepened, my feet fidgeting so incessantly that I was sure they would burn a hole through the polished floors.

"What about Hardeen?" I called after them. "Who will you send?" I wondered if they dared to send Anakin. If I'd felt his darkness at the funeral, they certainly had as well.

Yoda's face was solemn when he turned back to look at me. Windu's, however, was drawn in a frustrated scowl. For being a Jedi, he was nearly as emotionally expressive as Anakin. "We understand you considered Obi-wan a friend, but he is our family, and we will attend to his killer."

I didn't miss his saying 'is,' rather than 'was.' Most people I'd shrug it off as a mere slip of the tongue–a denial of their loved one's demise. But not Windu. He was emotional, but he wasn't rash. And his words were always calculated and precise.

But I didn't say anything about that. Filling the silence was my wrist comm pinging loudly. The Jedi stayed where they were near the doorway to the next expansive corridor. My mouth curled into a scowl when I looked back at the masters, listening to Apex's words in my ear. "He's gloating about killing a Jedi," I conveyed to them. Di'kut.

"Bring this information to the Council, we will," Yoda said finally, his voice calm. "Send a Jedi, we will." I hated how clinical he was, but I also knew that I didn't fully understand the Jedi and their weird ways. I didn't agree with it, but how else was a Jedi to deal with grief? And as much as I'd have loved to bring in Hardeen myself, I also knew when to step down–even though admitting defeat against Windu was the last thing I wanted to do.

I cared for Obi-wan and I was grieving his absence, but I'd only known him a short time compared to both of the Jedi before me. Compared to any Jedi, really. One in particular came to mind again.

"What about Anakin?" I asked suddenly.

"Skywalker is grieving," Windu said immediately with a dismissive wave of his hand. "And incredibly unbalanced." His face turned sour, nose wrinkling. "Force-sensitive as you are, I'm sure you felt it."

Something still felt wrong. I frowned, "Anakin has a right to know and to help bring in the man who killed his master…his best friend."

Yoda hummed lowly, glancing at his companion. "Bring this matter to the Council, we must," he repeated, "For only us to decide, this is not." The words were final, the two thanking me for the information before leaving me alone in the hallway.

I blinked slowly, watching them go in a daze. It was hard to believe that the Jedi could still surprise me with their antics, but somehow they still managed it. Their approach to emotions always baffled me. I could understand how connections can teeter one towards the Dark Side. I've jump-roped that line constantly, and Anakin liked to dance dangerously close to it, whether he liked to admit it or not.

Most of me wanted to go find Skywalker immediately and tell him where Hardeen was. But there was a tiny, very intelligent voice in my head that warned me not to cross the Jedi Council. I had my own qualms with Windu, even aside from killing Jango, and we really only tolerated each other.

Realistically, I wasn't sure if I'd ever seen him look genuinely happy.

Either way, crossing him over something that technically was 'Jedi matters' felt like I'd be bringing down a whole lot of osik on myself. I'd cared for Obi-wan and I was going to miss him….but I wasn't going to directly go against the Jedi to find his killer.

I did my part by telling them. It was out of my hands now. Right?

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With my contract stationing me with the 501st, I was still planet-side and free to roam. I'd wanted to go to the barracks, but with a Jedi assassin on the loose, they were likely in a whirlwind of briefings, drills, and patrols. As leader of his battalion, he needed to be there to lead his men. And I'd assume be there for Anakin. Skywalker may be their leader, but he was also their friend, in some ways.

So I did what the Jedi had asked and I went home to my club. The last person I expected to see that night was a massive albino anooba barreling down on me once I entered the front doors. Usually, I'd be quick to free myself from a creature like that. But this one I knew.

Despite my confusion and grief, I allowed myself a laugh, the rough tongue of my friend's pet scraping along my cheek. "Marrok," I chuckled, finally shoving at his broad, furry chest to get him off my chest. "That's enough."

I heard Embo's voice before I could see him, his sharp whistle calling the anooba off me, followed by a chuckle of his own. It's saliva was sticky on my gloves when I wiped it from my face and eyes with a disgusted groan. The Kyuzo, after taking his time to laugh at me, offered his hand to help me up. I took it gratefully, the patrons of my club going back to their business now that they knew their host wasn't in any real trouble.

"Embo," I greeted finally, our hands clasping in greeting. "While I'm glad to see you, I certainly didn't expect it." I gestured him over to my private booth near the employee door, Rouva bringing us drinks herself. She brushed my hair gently after putting the pitcher and glasses down, offering a bowl of water for Marrok.

Embo spoke in his native tongue. Rouva had a knack for languages like I did, and while she wasn't fluent in Kyuzo, she'd picked up quite a bit whenever Embo was around. She gave him a wide smile, her fangs flashing in the pulsing club lights. "You're welcome." I rolled my eyes at her playfully as she left, the Twi'lek giving me a playful toss of her lekku.

Turning back to the bounty hunter, I frowned, my mind turning over a new thought. "Are you on Coruscant because of a job?" I asked carefully.

Embo tilted his head at me, his wide-brimmed hat casting his face in shadow. He told me that he had been, but was moving on.

"It wasn't for Kenobi, was it?" While he didn't kill Kenobi–it was clear who had–for some reason it made my chest ache to think Embo would target someone he knew I was close to.

The Kyuzo gave me a concerned look, ensuring me that he wasn't. And that he hadn't even heard about a contract to kill Kenobi. He nodded his head to me, his inflection rising in question.

My brow lifted. "What? Of course I hadn't heard of one, but it's not like someone would be offering me that job." I took up the pitcher, pouring both of us a drink. "Not anymore, at least."

He chuckled at me, accepting the drink. And then muttered into his cup his condolences. My heart ached, but my mind was still unsteady. Something felt wrong about the whole situation. And then Embo began to tell me about his next mission, and how he'd hesitated to see me because of the client.

My knuckles turned white around my cup. "Dooku is not a man to take lightly," I warned darkly, trying to keep my voice low enough to stay below the thumping of the music. My security was keeping my guests far from our booth, but I was still cautious. "Why would you take a job from him?" My jaw dropped at his response. "That's a lot of credits," I allowed after a sip of my drink.

We fell silent, settling into our plush seats, our gazes turning to my dancers who littered the stage and floor. Something–the Force, maybe–tickled at the back of my mind, urging me to look….bigger. Something about this was all connected. I could feel it. Scratching Marrok behind the ear, I glanced back to Embo, taking him in.

He was an honest bounty hunter and a good friend. I trusted him, but that wouldn't stop him from taking jobs that could affect the war. Nowadays, There weren't many jobs that didn't. And I didn't expect our friendship from keeping us from going head-to-head. But I did expect for those meetings to end in us both still alive.

Something told me this could be one of those times. I sighed, "What more do you know about this job?" My friend gave me a skeptical look. I leaned forward, our drinks away from us with my arm. "Look, my friend was just murdered, and I think it might be a part of something bigger. And I think it might be connected." He still hesitated. "What?" I tried, "Afraid I'll stop you?"

After a beat, the Kyuzo laughed before giving me a teasing response. There's no direct translation to basic, but he more or less compared me to a small worm-like creature he'd feed to Marrok. I let out a loud laugh, relaxing a bit. And finally, so did he. My friend opened up, telling me about others he'd heard were summoned by Dooku for a job. And a rumor he'd heard about Moralo Eval being seen with the count. It connected.

"You said Cad Bane had been invited?" I asked calmly. He responded that many of the 'top' bounty hunters seemed to have been invited. I smirked in feign playfulness. "And I'm not one of the best?" He only laughed, knowing I was joking. But that was good, because that meant he wasn't as tense as I was at that moment. "He was just arrested," I allowed. "Recently."

Embo shrugged, joking about how he wouldn't miss his top competitor on a job. Still, my stomach was twisting. Moralo Eval was in the same lockup Bane was, both here on Coruscant. What if–

The conversation was shifting away from work and towards catching up, and I allowed it, Embo having shared everything he was willing to give. It was more than enough to make me nauseous. I glanced down at my drink, seeing it only half gone. Damn. I'd hoped it was the alcohol causing the pain in my gut.

Still, I allowed myself to enjoy my friend's company, my face smiling and nodding while my brain ran circles around my situation. My friend was dead. And everything about it was….wrong. I would figure it out, but for now I didn't want to churn the water between the Council and I. It was tense already.

For now, I'd do as I was told and stay home. I'd enjoy my time catching up with Embo, and go to the Council in the morning. Hopefully by then they'd have Hardeen in custody, too. It would be nice to see him behind bars.

But I knew something was amiss, and I would be getting to the bottom of it.

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MANDO'A

Di'kut- idiot

Osik- shit

Mir'sheb– smartass

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Author's Note:

Yeah…. I'm alive. Sorry I suck and haven't posted. The truth is that I haven't had any motivation to write. I'm trying to get back on the bandwagon, but I also say that every time, so I don't have the greatest of track records.

I'll do my best, though!

-Ryder