Thank you, Muffin!
P.S. mint makes for great house plants and lemon balm is great for chronic pain, inability to eat, and insomnia :D
Chapter 11 - The Ruin of Mandalore
"These people can't handle a fight," Obi-Wan said as the pilot stared in horror at the pirates sealing the bridge.
The people on board were newly freed from the undersea mines.
"We don't have the resources to fight at all," the pilot said.
The co-pilot shook her head, "That's not entirely true."
"What isn't entirely true?" Tahl asked.
The pilot scoffed, pushing his green lekku over his shoulder, "That scrap heap you keep in the bay isn't flight secure."
"We need a distraction," the co-pilot said, standing. "I'll do it–"
"You need two pilots, and I'm a freight pilot, not a rear gunner."
"My Padawan and I will be your distraction, you get this freighter to safety as soon as the loading bridge is down and sealed."
Obi-Wan was already on the way to the storage bay when the pilot said, "But you're blind."
"The Force is with us," Master Tahl said, taking Obi-Wan's elbow as she followed him into their next Force-blessed disaster.
oOo
Myles was surprised when they were given immediate clearance, less surprised when several armed guards greeted them and demanded his explosives. With his helmet clipped to his belt, he allowed it.
He didn't expect to have anything in common with the Jetiiese, but the Jetii guard were wearing armour. Though their armour was uniform, the plates were more than ceremonial. The texture of their cloth indicated a blaster-resistant weave.
It was expensive material, but Myles had a feeling the armour they wore might be hundreds upon hundreds of years old.
He was wearing his own armour but had personally taken out all the hidden features, like the flame thrower and his jetpack. Still, the Jetiiese found the little explosives and flares he always kept with him.
It was a mild insult, but one Myles was grudgingly appreciative of, that the Jetiiese took his charged weapons but left him his swords and knives. The implication being that he wouldn't be able to best them with a bladed weapon.
Satine was also searched and when the guard found nothing, the Jettiiese paused and seemed to communicate silently with each other.
Ordinarily, Myles would have said they were speaking over coms, but, being so used to reading the body language of people in armour, they were eerily still.
Satine, who was rather put out that their greeting was an 'uncivilized' weapons search, demanded, "Aren't you going to introduce yourselves?"
One of the guards gestured with a hand sign that Myles guessed meant a negative as the other guard gestured to the bay entrance into the Temple.
Satine stepped forward, chin raised.
The guard stepped into formation around them. It took him a minute to realise why he was so unnerved as they moved through the halls.
Their escort was sixteen guardsmen, walking at a brisk pace.
But their footsteps made no sound.
If Myles closed his eyes, he would have testified that it was just himself and Satine walking.
Four of the guard broke off, striding ahead of them and disappearing from sight.
They encountered no one else as they approached a turbo lift.
Myles had the distinct feeling that the guards had cleared out the halls. Which was sort of sad, that they believed them volatile enough to not be exposed to their people. What was more depressing was knowing that Jaster likely would have treated the Jetiiese just the same.
He immediately hated the room that they walked into, the guards waited outside. The view was beautiful but the design? The layout of the room meant anyone not seated in the circle would always have someone at their back.
The first to speak was an imposing bald man who met his gaze, his eyes never drifting to Satine.
Myles would ordinarily consider it sexism, except he had the sense that the man didn't need to look to see.
"Greetings Mandalorian Myles and Princess Satine, I am Master Mace Windu, and this is the High Council of the Jedi Order. Care to enlighten us about this visit?"
Myles let out a low breath, setting aside his anxiety about having some of the foremost Jetii Masters at his back. He reminded himself that it was their people in the wrong.
"We are here to clarify the differences between Mandalorian clans and invite you into our internal investigation of the murder that included one of your knights and three of your younglings."
Windu arched a brow, "There have been hundreds of Mandalorian murders of our people. What makes this special to you."
"Because our people were falsely accused," Myles said.
"And why should we trust you?" Windu asked.
"Because if it was an individual from the Haat'mando'ade, the True Mandalorians, then they will be executed for doing harm to a foundling, much less killing three, including an ad'iik– an infant."
There was a pause, and Windu's gaze flicked to the green goblin perched in the seat beside him.
"Believe you we do," the goblin said. "But trust blindly, we will not."
Myles inclined his head, "That is perhaps more generous than our people would be."
Satine shifted beside him but thankfully kept her mouth shut.
"If you do not believe it was your clan, who would you lay the blame upon? Certainly not the New Mandalorians whom you arrived with a representative from."
"No," Myles agreed. "Death Watch, they are a terrorist orginzation and a group that openly brags about being in conflict with yours."
"That is good to be told," an older man, human, with brown eyes. "But as Grandmaster Yoda said, we cannot trust blindly."
"And you are?" Myles questioned.
"Master Dooku, and the Knight who was killed was my grand-Padawan, my grandson by lineage. The same grandson we were unable to piece back together amongst the other remains of the younglings, orphans from your system who were abandoned due to skills of their birth."
Myles winced. "We cannot make up for what you've–"
"No," Dooku interrupted. "No, you cannot."
Myles inclined his head in acknowledgement.
Satine shifted a step closer to him, which confused him until he looked up and to the Jetii beside Dooku staring a hole through the Princess's skull.
oOo
Myles put a hand on Satine's shoulder and the long-haired man broke eye contact.
"You are second in line to your throne, are you not, Princess Satine Kryze?" he asked.
"Yes," she said.
"You will be the ruin of Mandalore if you should ever take power over the system," he stated.
Myles brows shot up.
Satine's jaw slackened before she recovered and demanded, "Excuse me?"
"Master Sifo-Dyas," Windu sighed.
Sifo-Dyas was unapologetic as he continued, "I see domed cities made of glass and beskar. Your people will burn, your cities will shatter, and all that will be left are bones and your culture hunted into extinction among the wider stars."
"Is that an official threat by the Jedi?" Myles asked.
"No," Sifo-Dyas said. "Mandalore and the Order will fall together. To sustain one is to sustain the other."
"You see this, as if you know the future?" Myles asked dubiously.
"The future, in motion, it always is," the male green goblin said. "Know he does not."
"Only in the visions that I have acted on, has the future changed. Unacted upon as all others do, the outcome is always as I have foreseen it," the Jedi Psychic argued
"Know that, you cannot," the goblin grumped.
"She is a politician, not a leader of a warrior people," Sifo-Dyas said. "It will not end well."
"You don't know that," Windu said, pinching his brow.
Sifo-Dyas leaned forward, "Tell me you don't see her as a massive walking Shatterpoint, and I'll apologize."
Windu sighed, but didn't dispute the point.
What the kriff was a 'Shatterpoint'? Myles wondered.
Windu's ad standing behind his shoulder turned her head to hide a smile.
"It must be useful to see the future," Satine said, tone dry, ignoring that the Jetii had just told her she would be the downfall of their people.
Sifo-Dyas shrugged, "No one ever listens to me, so it is mostly useless."
"The future is not predetermined," Windu said.
Dooku scoffed, "The Force does not speak to us to not be listened to." He gestured to Satine, "Pacifism in Mandalorian society is doomed to fail, one need not be a seer to understand that."
Myles was highly amused. He was the one who had been nearly strip-searched and escorted by the Jetii guard, but it was the New Mandalorian princess who preached non-violence and was the only faction recognized by the Galactic Republic that was being given the third degree.
Satine seemed to finally take offense to this because she challenged, "You accused us of harming your people and yet you take issue with the hope of disarmament?"
"Random slaughter and taking away someone's ability, much less an entire star system's ability, to protect themselves,
to remain self-reliant, are two vastly different discussions," Dooku said loftily. "They do not belong in the same breath. The Order can ask that you stop poaching our people for sport without demanding your society captautialate to cultural genocide."
Satine flinched, taking a step back as if struck.
Myles grimaced but was nevertheless grateful for the Jetii's harsh assessment. Because, at the end of the day, that's what Duke Adonai and the New Mandalorians were asking of them.
Not that some of their people be allowed to be something other than a warrior but that they all be forced to abandon their way of life and ancestry…
Satine rallied though, stubborn as any Mando'ade, "You don't know how much damage has been done by our constant civil wars. Why should we uphold our ancestors when what we inherited from them is pointless and endless bloodshed?"
Of course, the New Mandalorians didn't lack a following because they were not without some truth behind their delusions.
"Mandalorians are a people who value their independence," Dooku said blithely. "There will never come a day when their system can remain so without the ability to defend their own sovereignty."
But in this instance, the Jetiiese were more right than the New Mandalorians, which was depressing.
"You think I am an idealist?" she asked.
Myles bit back a snort.
"I do not think," Dooku said, tone severe. "I know that you are, and I will second Master Sifo-Dyas's council that you should never seek to rule the system. You lack awareness of your own history and astropolitics—if you think your system will ever exist uncontested. Mandalore's place in the galaxy is too coveted and your resources too valued. Beskar will always be a substance others are willing to kill and die for, just as kyber is to the Jedi."
"You are peacekeepers," Satine argued.
Dooku opened his palms and gestured to the council around them, "Our people number in the millions. There are plenty of positions in the Order that never require a member to raise their hand against another in violence. But all our members, whether they are raised at the Temple or in the Outer Rim, are trained to defend themselves."
"Millions?" Myles echoed.
"The Jedi Knights are a single Corps," Windu explained. "The majority of our people are agricultural workers, medics, and scientific explorers. It is, however, still proportionally small for the demands and needs of the Republic. But we have scaled our numbers back over the years."
"Why?" Myles asked.
"Because sometimes ignorance is bliss," Sifo-Dyas said. "We primarily take in only those who cannot hide what they are. To be exposed as a Force sensitive often has far reaching consequences and our practices and culture are not necessarily the best fit for everyone."
"Even in the other Corps?" Myles asked.
"Our way of life is a religion. Those who raise families in the other Corps, have still chosen a way of life that offers few gains of material wealth. They remain servants to the Republic citizens."
"And that isn't pacifism?" Satine asked.
Windu shook his head, "Much like the Mandalore system, we can't afford pacifism. Force sensitives sell for too much to trust our safety to other powers. And you will find members of the other Corps to be somewhat more prone to violence than Jedi Knights. While they may not have the same specialized techniques in combat, they are often quicker to defend themselves and their people, be it their families or the communities they serve."
Myles hadn't realized how aware the Jetiiese were about themselves, which was perhaps foolish of him.
Without beskar, Mandalorians were not targeted by slavers. Partly, because capturing them alive was uncommon, and secondly, they didn't have any particular value that made them unique to other sentients with the exception of the Stewjoni.
"Mand'alor Mereel did have a request," Myles said when the pause continued, Satine unwilling to cede ground.
Truly, the girl's stubbornness was the most Mandalorian thing about her. Perhaps the only Mandalorian thing about her.
Windu gestured for him to speak.
"Your archives hold histories of our people, and Mand'alor Mereel has requested we be allowed to access to that history."
"Is there anything in particular you are looking for?" an elderly woman asked, though she held herself like a military officer.
"Force traditions that are unique to our system," he clarified. It was pushing the limit of what Jaster wanted him to reveal but after meeting with the Jetiiese, Myles had the sense that the last thing these people wanted to do was abduct the Mand'alor's heir.
Mandalore and the Order will fall together. To sustain one is to sustain the other.
"You're referring to Mand'alor Tarre Vizsla," Windu said, something darker entering his tone.
A warning.
His Padawan had gone rigid behind him.
Why was Tarre Vizsla a sore subject for them?
"No," Myles said. "Vizsla was raised by the Order. The Mand'alor would like to know if there are any practices lost to time for those who were born to us, and remained with us, the Ka'ra touched."
"Ka'ra touched?" the old woman asked.
"Star touched, one who has been blessed with the power of the stars," he explained. "Manda is the name of our system's star, but Ka'ra can refer to the Manda or the plural stars of the galaxy."
"Thank you for the explanation," the woman said. "I am Master Jocasta Nu, I am the current Grand Archivist, and I would grant the Mand'alor's request and allow you, Mandalorian Myles, to research Mandalorian practices with supervision."
Windu inclined his head, "I would approve the request and Master Nu's recommendation, unless there are any protests?"
No one protested.
"Accommodations will be made for—"
"We are sleeping on my ship," Myles interrupted the man.
Windu nodded, "You have continued permission to dock until you are satisfied with what you can learn from our archives. If you leave, you would have to re-petition us to return to our Temple."
"You have been kinder than I expected," Myles admitted.
"Do not take it lightly," Windu warned. "This is a small step. Our Shadows remain hostile toward your people."
"Shadows?" Myles asked.
"Jedi Knights who travel undercover in and out of the Republic. Seekers are a gentler profession amongst the Shadows whose missions often include severe risks to their own person. Knight Feemor was much beloved and no Shadow will be sympathetic to any Mandalorian who offers them any indication of violence."
"You make it sound like you can't control them," Myles said warily.
Dooku spoke up, "Does the Mand'alor control every mercenary and bounty hunter who owes fealty to a guild."
Myles winced, "In Creed."
"The definition of what a Jedi is is likely broader than you could understand. We warn you not as a threat, but to be transparent of the tensions between our peoples."
Myles nodded, "Thank you."
"Do you wish to retire and speak with your people, or would you rather go to the archives now?" Nu asked.
"Now, if it is all the same to you," Myles said, not wanting to stay on Coruscant any longer than he had to.
Windu nodded, "Master Jocasta Nu and my Padawan, Depa Billaba, will escort you and assist you in the archives."
Or in other words, control what they could see.
Myles inclined his head, "Thank you."
Windu's Padawan stepped forward as Nu and Dooku got to their feet.
Myles kept a hand on Satine's shoulder to direct the girl who was still recovering from the perceived insults as they followed the Jetiiese out.
Jaster was going to just love hearing that it was going to be the New Mandalorians who would be their downfall.
Though, what was concerning to Myles was that the Jedi High Council believed that the fate of Mandalore was so intimately tied in with their own that they believed that they would fall together.
oOo
AN: Thoughts, Jersey cows, or feedback, pretty please?