KEYnote: My headcanon in this story is that Silas is trans-female (if you bitch, please, please know, I am happy that your stupidity brings you mental anguish). Star Wars has a distinct lack of developed female characters and the muse moved me ;D
P.S. Jaster did listen to Jango, he was just more worried about Jango.
Thank you, Muffin!
Chapter 10 - Inconsequential
"You've got to be kidding me," Myles said.
"I'm sorry," Mij retorted caustically, "What about this is funny?"
"The part where we are karked and have literally no recompense that won't make the situation infinitely worse," Myles answered with false cheer.
Silas shifted uncomfortably beside Mij, her buir.
Jaster had his own ill-at-ease ad at his side, and Adonai had his three children. Only Mij and Montross were without ade.
Their current council was small, the Kryzes needed to handle this topic with sensitivity because the Stewjoni's hatred of the Jetiiese was the most extreme in the Mandalore system.
"Surely," Princess Satine said. "There is something we can do."
A part of Jaster wondered why his son was so interested in the girl. She was as clever as she was stunningly arrogant to the point of stupidity.
But then he reminded himself that Jango was only fifteen and there wasn't really much to dissuade him if the girl was throwing herself at him.
She was undeniably beautiful for her age.
No, Jaster wasn't overly concerned about the two kriffing, Mandalorians, even New Mandalorians, had a culture that experimented early.
When the average life expectancy was between thirty and forty, it was to be expected.
Jaster himself was fast approaching fifty, which meant some would begin referring to him as an elder, at least in the warrior class.
It felt wrong, especially with any native blood, Taung or Stewjoni, a Mando tended to extend human average from eighty years to a hundred and fifty years or even two hundred.
That their life expectancies as commandos were a third of what they should have been, Jaster could admit, at least privately, lent weight to some of the points in the Duke's favour regarding his conviction against violence.
But then Jaster had a suspicion that the Duke was the one to suggest to Satine that she should seduce the Mand'alor's son. Which he had far less sympathy for.
Jango was as much in a political role as Satine was, however, Jango was an extension of Jaster, his heir, and their people's would be cultural, spiritual, and military leaders.
Yet Jango had the freedom to turn down the position if he wished, he could be adopted by a second buir and could be Jaster's son but no longer his heir.
Princess Satine was second in line to a throne and was being treated, in public, as her shabuir's pawn.
"What would you suggest, sister?" Prince Kyrze asked his sister, his tone conveying how little he cared about her opinion.
Apparently, the prince was aware of his father's favouritism toward his sisters.
"We could contact the Jedi," Princess Satine said. "Warn them at least not to travel in our space."
Myles snorted, "I think they got that message if these reports are to be believed, and I'm not sure that we should believe it, given the Jetiiese themselves never released a statement about the recent supposed murders. But if we contact them to tell them to stay out of our space—which happens to be a large hyperlane intersection—then we might as well declare war with the Republic while we are at it."
Satine sat perfectly still as her brother smirked.
Jaster sighed, "She has a point."
Jango's eyes nearly bugged out of his head, "Buir?"
"Five hundred Knights in a hundred years is approximately ten Knights every year," Jaster said. "For what records we have, the scores were settled with individuals. Any Mandalorian who was identified as a part of a mercenary or bounty guild was arrested by the guild and stood trial. If there was more than one Jedi, then likely the other Jetiiese took their pound of flesh then and there. The rest? The rest are in hiding."
"So how is Satine right?" Jango asked.
The princess's glare was lethal in intent.
Jaster wondered if his ad just might drive the pacifist to violence. Aloud, he answered, "She is right, the Jedi have not acted outside of their Republic's laws, nor have they overstepped ours. They have not trappassed for vengeance and they have not punished a clan for the actions of an individual. It may be in our best interest to establish that our government is against Jedi Hunting."
It would be best for him as to ensure the stability of their system, the Republic would have to recognize them. Even if the Republic didn't approve of him being the Mand'alor, if the Jedi acknowledged them, it would be harder for them to interfere.
Harder for them to delegitimise.
"The True Mandalorians should not be in the same bracket of danger to civilians as the Watch," Jaster began.
"You and Jango cannot go to Coruscant," Mij stated.
Jaster raised a brow, "I have not suggested it."
"But you were going to," Mij said, allowing no dispute. "If you go, you will be too tense to negotiate and represent our people effectively. Likewise, you will be useless to us until Jango returns.
"However, I agree. The Jedi are a warrior people and I would rather break bread with them than the Senate."
And it would make it harder for the Senate to release the Jedi upon them like dogs.
"I will not force anyone to go," Jaster said. "And I cannot ask anyone for a thing I will not do myself."
"I'll go," the Princess volunteered. "I'll be starting at university on Coruscant soon, no harm in leaving early."
Her eagerness did not thrill him, but Jaster looked to her father who inclined his head, "I trust my daughter's judgment—" his son scoffed and was promptly ignored.
"So the plan is to contact them and say, sorry your ade were brutally murdered by our people but not by us?" Myles asked.
"The plan is to invite them into an internal investigation," Jaster said.
"That's insane," Prince Adyn burst. "You cannot invite them here."
"Transparency, at least to some extent, is necessary. The Jetiiese are too powerful a force to not try to keep communications open with them. If the Republic tries a frontal assault, it will be with them as their sword," Jaster explained. "We cannot stop Death Watch's actions as long as they hide in the shadows and refuse to settle our conflicts honestly. It is vital that the Republic not confuse our factions as being interchangeable."
"I'll go with the Princess," Myles spoke up. "Seeing as I am not a child nor a parent."
Jango huffed at the man but held his tongue.
It made Jaster feel more at ease that maybe his son was finally listening to him.
"Duke Kryze?" Jaster asked.
"You will be taking separate ships?" Adonai asked.
Myles merely nodded.
"I will send an entourage," Adonai said. "But it will give Satine a chance to tour the university. As my daughter will be unarmed, I don't fear her insulting the Jedi."
Jaster shook his head, meeting Satine's gaze, "Careful Princess Satine Kryze that you not presume too much of our historical enemy. The New Mandalorian movement is one the Republic would be eager to take advantage of. And they would do so without charity."
She merely turned up her chin.
Beside Jaster, Jango gazing off into the distince, completely ignoring the supposed royalty in the room.
Again, he was filled with a sense that his son would be alright.
That no matter the temptation, Jango would remain true to himself, and to himself.
Jaster could not be more proud.
oOo
Jango was only dimly aware of heels following him as he thought of what he would say to Myles.
What he hoped Miles could find.
"I am not an inconsequential person," Satine said, striding behind him as he left toward his own room.
Jango snorted, "You think I don't know you're using me."
It was stupid, but he wished it was him going instead of her.
Obi-Wan probably wasn't.
Maybe.
But the mark on his wrist was real. A tattoo of the Jetii Order etched into his flesh. Surely the Order would have answers.
"Why are you karking me if you think I'm using you?" she demanded.
"Oh, I don't think, I know."
"Then why?"
"Because you're beautiful. And you're intelligent," he answered truthfully before adding. "Despite everything."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means you don't respect me, why should I respect you? We're just having fun."
"That's insulting," she said but her expression remained cold.
He smirked at her, "You have to get better at lying if you want to stay in politics, Princess. You are also a fool if you think I could be led around by my libido."
"You're just a man."
Anger swelled in his veins, and he stepped into her space to tower over her. "I am a Mandalorian. My gender is unimportant. And you are more ignorant of our people to not understand that."
"I'm Stewjoni," she said. "Gender is important."
Jango sneered, "The only thing our culture gives a kark about gender is the ability to conceive children. Which means those who can carry ade, are precious, and typically indicates you should be more wary of pissing them off because mothers are more likely to do anything to protect what's theirs. But I am a Mandalorian by Creed and by birth. My gender does not define me, and it does not mean I am some beast incapable of saying no to the flare of skirts."
Satine was furious but her voice was ice as she said, "You love skirts."
"You'd be more attractive in armour."
"Kark you."
He backed away from her, so done with whatever game she was playing, "You know, I don't think that I will."
Her face turned pink. "You—"
"Good luck on your trip to the Jetiiese," he said, turning away from her.
"At least the Jetiiese value peace."
"Ha!" He spun on his heal. "The Jetiiese history is as bloody as ours. They keep the peace, the same way we do."
"You mean like the Evaar'ade?"
"No, like the Haat'mand'ade. Were you paying attention? They might not have started a war in recent history, but they never hesitated to kill in defence of their own."
"They've changed."
"Yeah, in numbers. That's about it," he said. "But the Jetiiese are a warrior race."
"They are a religious Order."
"Countless wars have been fought in the name of religion. Including the Jedi who went to war with the Sith who were a splinter group from their belief system."
So maybe he had been paying attention to Jaster's lectures about history a little more closely of late."
"You will regret this, Jango Fett."
He didn't acknowledge her words, because he was pretty sure he already regretted ever having let her that close.
Once he got back to his room he fell on the bed, pulling down his sleeve to look at the mark.
Obi-Wan Kenobi died a thousand years ago.
The Lost Son of Mandalore was a children's story and nothing more.
Whoever had marked him was playing with his head, playing on his fears and deepest desires.
No one understood him. Not really. No one understood how much he wanted to be everything Jaster needed him to be.
To be a worthy son of his buir.
Surely, if anyone could have understood that it would be Obi-Wan. Just as surely as whoever was karking with his mind must know that too. Taking what should have been sacred, a Mark of Souls —Runi'ade blessed by the Ka'ra— and twisting it into something that threatened not just him but his entire clan.
Even if that wasn't exactly true, he would have to find a way to cut the connection between them.
Permanently.
Jaster was right, it was too big a risk.
Jango sighed, his arms dropping to the bed as he closed his eyes.
He tried to hold onto the thought, the knowledge, that Obi-Wan, the one in his dreams, was his enemy.
But when he opened his eyes again, sleep having consumed him and his senses filling with his childhood home, he couldn't hold onto hatred.
All he could do was breathe in the sweet smell of growing fields and the hum of insects. The warm breeze that promised rain even as the sun dropped beneath the clouds, painting the sky with fire and shadows.
He felt alive.
He felt safe, in a bubble of memory free from worry or responsibility. When he saw Obi-Wan smile down at him, all he could do was smile back in welcome.
oOo
Obi-Wan fell into the grass beside Jango.
The other boy's smile was radiant, "Someone have a rough day?"
Obi-Wan huffed, "It's cold. Which is ridiculous when you're sharing a storage bay packed in tight with over a hundred people."
Jango raised a brow, "Why would you be travelling like that?"
"We freed a bunch of people from an undersea slave mine and now we're in transit to get to a sector where we can keep travelling to Jedha."
"You don't seem thrilled about that," Jango remarked.
"I think Jedha would be lovely, but I'm starting to believe my new Master never had much hope we would reach our destination."
Jango frowned, "You don't think you're going to make it there alive?"
"No, I don't think that. I just don't think Bandomeer was our last Force-directed mission. I don't believe the Force has it out for us, I just…" he sighed.
"What?"
"I don't know, it feels like the Force doesn't have enough people listening to it. Not really. Which means Master Tahl and I are getting the brunt of the Force's intentions. It's very loud."
Jango caught his hand in the grass, lacing their fingers together. "Please stay safe."
"Such concern for a stranger?" Obi-Wan teased.
"You're not a stranger, You're the Lost Son of Mandalore. Our people need you." He didn't say it as if he believed it entirely, but like he wanted to believe it.
"Need me for what?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Hope."
"Do you even think I'm real? Because you talk about me like—"
Jango shook his head, "I think I want you to be real so badly that… It is hard to have faith in a dream."
"Why do I matter to you?"
"Because you were the child of the Mand'alor. In your time, even when you were alive, you mattered."
"I was in a coma, so I'm not sure I'm much of a role model."
"I was adopted by the current Mand'alor."
"Ah," Obi-Wan said in understanding. "My buir adopted a lot of ade in three hundred years."
"Were they jealous of you?"
Obi-Wan snorted, "No, by the time I came around the majority of my vode were grandparents themselves. And I can promise you, none of them wanted to be a Jetii."
"Were the Jedi hated as much back then?"
"Back then?" Obi-Wan grinned. "But no, the Jedi have never been liked. My Buir only got as far as he didbecause he led every battle from the front. Also, he was as scary as he was wise. It counts for a lot."
"Why did he leave the Jedi?"
"He didn't, not really. All Jedi are allowed to practice in their birth culture. He left because the Order couldn't afford to join the Clan Wars."
"The Great Clan Wars," he corrected.
Obi-Wan smirked, "He rejoined the Order officially so he could take me as his Padawan."
"He was already your buir."
"My buir was an elder, Jango. He wasn't even functionally the Mand'alor. But no one had the beskar to claim the title while he was still around."
"Still, he was a legend. It must have been a lot of pressure."
Obi-Wan shrugged, "I loved him. All I wanted was to be perfect for him."
"And that's not pressure?"
Obi-Wan smirked, "Are you saying you don't like a challenge, Jango Fett. Ad'alor?"
"It really never bothered you?"
"I grew up wanting my buir to take me with him. He always went out of his way to tell me how old he was. How proud he was of me that I may never come back. He didn't even give me his name."
"I always wondered about that, the Stewjoni of your name translates to No One from Nowhere, right? Someone who is clanless? It's what they named children who didn't survive to their name-days or children who couldn't be identified on battlefields."
Obi-Wan winced, "Yeah, that's what he named me. He told me it was because he didn't want me to have to carry the Vizsla name. He gave me the name of the dead as a reminder what the Stewjon people do to their Force-sensative ade. A reminder that children have power to decide their own identity."
"What about your mother? She gave you to the Jedi too?"
"She died during childbirth. She was a sex worker, I don't think she would have been with my buir otherwise."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be, my ba'buir told my buir if he wasn't the Mand'alor they would have drowned me in a river."
"That's harsh."
"That's Stewjon."
"So you kept the cursed name."
"So I kept the cursed name, and my buir came back for me anyway."
Jango smiled, "My buir came for me too, Jaster, I mean. I was so angry after my buire died, but he believed in me anyway."
Obi-Wan smiled back, "That's what most never see, the Mand'alor is a person behind the leader. And that person being our buir? There's no greater honour than that."
"I know, which is why it's so hard—" Jango cut himself off.
"What's hard?" Obi-Wan questioned.
"He's been angry with me lately."
"Why?"
Jango hesitated before saying, "Because of you."
"Ah," Obi-Wan said. "That makes sense."
Jango sat up, letting go of Obi-Wan's hand. "You agree with him?"
He sat up too. "No, but I understand. I'm Stewjoni."
"You think the Mand'alor being a Jedi would have made people more understanding."
Obi-Wan shrugged, "Sometimes, I think it made it worse. He showed the system how dangerous a Jedi could be without becoming a Sith."
"Any advice on how to get him to calm down about Force-sensitives?"
"Has he been overprotective?"
"You have no idea."
Obi-Wan huffed, "Oh, I do. My advice, stay safe."
"Stay safe? Is that a joke?"
"He is your Buir, Jango, it is his duty to worry about you. Do not hold that against him. Time will show him that you have nothing to fear from me. I do not want to be the next Mand'alor."
"Why wouldn't you have wanted it?"
"In my Buir's day, Mandalore needed a Jedi. But right now, I think the Jedi need a Mandalorian. They obey the Republic too much, the Order needs to be bolder or risk corruption destroying everything they fought so hard to build."
"Well, I can't say you're wrong about that," Jango said, fidgeting with his sleeve and pulling it back to reveal his wrist. "Obi-Wan about these mar—"
The dream broke as Obi-Wan was stepped on. He would have been annoyed if it wasn't from the worry consuming his bond with Tahl.
They were on a transport ship with a bunch of recently freed slaves.
Who were panicking.
"What happened?" Obi-Wan asked as Tahl pulled him up onto his feet and toward the wall.
Her answer was simple.
"Pirates."
Oisk.
oOo
AN: Thoughts, mint plants, or feedback, pretty please?