Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. Obviously. :)
Chapter 1: Echoes of War
It was not the first time for Obi-Wan Kenobi to be standing in the Jedi Council chambers – standing of course, not sitting – but today the room held gravitas and seriousness of the sort he could not remember ever feeling there – as if the Force itself was holding its breath. The morning light was filtering through the high windows, casting long, pale beams across the floor and thus creating a stark contrast to the matters that would be unfolded in their due time. For a moment Obi-Wan allowed himself to watch the light trace the marble floor like spectres as the last Masters settled into place. They were a full council today, most of them present, with two – a tall male Zabrak master whose name he didn't know and a female human Jedi whom he only knew by sight – appearing as blueish holograms in place of their usual seats. All faces bespoke seriousness. Obi-Wan was certain that it didn't take the extra sensitivity of Jedi senses to be able to tell as much.
They had summoned him and his master early, without ceremony and just as little of an explanation – a sure sign that secrecy might be warranted or politics involved. That this was a matter that the Council wished addressed but dealt with in a discreet manner. Orders given, orders followed. He was not entirely sure whether, if this was the case, the Council had thought it through. Qui-Gon Jinn was known for his stubborn ways and had crossed the Council more than once.
Obi-Wan straightened his back and clasped his hands together in the sleeves of his robes as he had a way of doing when unease threatened to show on his face. Next to him, his master stood, calm as ever, his tall figure towering over them all. He was hard to read in the Force but exuded a calmness as if he already knew what would be asked of them.
Once everyone had settled, the quiet was extended just long enough to make him want to shift from one leg to the other to alleviate his awkwardness, but it was at that moment that a tall younger Jedi Master started to speak. Obi-Wan knew who he was. Mace Windu was younger than his own master by what must be at least a dozen years, but spoke with an authority that let on his high position on the Council – one that many already rumoured set him to be Grand Master Yoda's right hand – even though it was doubtful, due to the lesser human lifespan, he would ever be more than that.
"We received reports from increasing unrests on Mandalore," he began. "Centering around conflicts in which several opposing factions seem to be involved, not all of which we can be sure to know."
Obi-Wan merely listened. His knowledge about Mandalore was not very broad – limited to what he had learned in his years as a Padawan. The broad strokes only, since the planet and system were neutral, not part of the Republic. He could not put all the pieces together other than that he knew the system had been engulfed in a devastating civil war until recently, but that there had been a fretful, fragile peace that had been established some years ago when hostilities had mostly come to an end.
"We did not focus on the system in the last two years," Mace Windu continued, "because by our reports and observations Mandalore had been pacified, the war ended, the house rising to power broke traditions with their martial ways. But we recently received word that things have changed and unrest has broken out again."
"Unrest of what sort?" Qui-Gon asked.
"A challenge to the current ruling house," Windu replied. "Not everyone on Mandalore is keen on embracing the new peaceful ways and abandoning traditions. House Kryze has been weakened by a number of attacks towards the end of the war and could still establish its power. But its leader is young and has more enemies than she might be aware. We received more confirmation on that mere hours ago."
"I remember her father," another Council member spoke up. He could almost be taken for a human, an ancient one, his long white beard reaching down far to his chest, but at closer inspection it became clear that the humanoid part was just the upper part of his body. Master Oppo Rancisis was a Thisspiasian, his snake-like lower half curled around his chair in an oddly comfortable manner. "A good man. Died well before his time. If his daughter loses her power over the system now, this might have greater implications for us all."
There were grave nods from two or three others around the circle as Master Windu rose from his seat to activate the holoprojector that rose from the centre. Obi-Wan and his master stepped aside, standing apart between the seats of the High Council to make room. A wave of Master Yoda's hand dimmed the large windows, filtering out most of the morning sunlight as the hologram woke to life.
It seemed somewhat chaotic at first. A rumble of voices, apparently the holo had been shot from somewhere a few rows into a crowd, pointing at a stage that was only slightly raised above the people watching. There had to be hundreds. Most in civilian garb, elegant, light colours, a splattering few in what looked like armour. The surroundings, far as Obi-Wan could make them out from the limited input the hologram allowed on this, was minimalist. Maybe outdoors, the backdrop of a square building in the background, no grand palace, but straight forms and more functionality than grandeur. It came to him then, the memory of the name he had read, the name of their capital city. Sundari. A city built entirely under a vast dome.
The scene seemed important. And the young woman the hologram scene focused on breathed that same sense of importance. But it was an importance that lacked arrogance.
She was young. He guessed her to be around his age and found himself surprised by that. He had expected someone at least towards her late twenties to be a ruler of a planet. A tall, slender figure who carried herself with a poise that made her look brave beyond her years. Her hair was probably light, tied back into a tail and adorned with simple yet striking pieces of decoration. She was wearing elegant yet practical attire. No sigils, no hard lines or anything else suggesting the stance of a warrior. If she was a Mandalorian and so was the crowd around her, she contradicted everything Obi-Wan had known about them. If this was what Mandalore looked like now, much had changed indeed. And the same went for what she said, the hologram recording starting mid sentence.
"… is not submission. Peace is not weakness. Peace is the choice to end a cycle that would otherwise feed upon itself for generations."
Her voice was calm, but firm—resonating across the space even through the holofeed's distortion. She continued to the rapt attention of most and murmured dissent of the few. Towards the front lines a few figures were attempting to move, held back by others. She ignored them.
"We have laid down our weapons. We have turned domes into classrooms, and war chants into poetry. But still—still, they come. Trying to tear down what we have achieved, attempting to throw us back into the dark ages we have overcome."
As if summoned by her words, the projection suddenly trembled. A sudden crack! of sound snapped through the transmission. In the square, movement erupted—screaming civilians, a flash of blasterfire. In the ensuing chaos, Obi-Wan could still see the figure at the podium. Satine flinched but didn't fall, before being pulled aside by her guards—her face still composed, but pale. The transmission ended abruptly, freezing the scene with a half close-up of her determined young face.
"Another attempt. That makes four in three weeks." At this time it was Master Plo Koon who spoke.
"The Duchess invites danger by remaining exposed. Mandalore's civil unrest is not our war, however." Ki-Adi-Mundi spoke calmly, but his words set a clear focus.
At that point, his master spoke up. "Our war or not, she is in the fray of it. And that makes her worthy of our aid."
Obi-Wan studied the young face frozen in the hologram before him, for a moment thinking that it would be hard to meet that gaze. So that was Duchess Satine Kryze. He was surprised by how little she looked like a politician and by how much her bravery surprised him. Standing there, speaking while her enemies were around her, had been around her, and yet not backing down. He felt somewhat disturbed by the fact that he had seen no proper protectors around her but the few guards who themselves seemed but lightly armed with defensive shields. Surely she would need proper bodyguards to get her out of there.
Master Windu, now back in his seat again, brought some light to things, still leaving a lot in the shadows. "House Vizsla is suspected to be involved, but more might be happening that we cannot tell. There might be offworld connections. At any rate, she is at risk."
"Then let the Republic intervene." Eeth Koth interjected. "We are not politicians."
It was a flurry of opinions now, so far offered in firm yet polite manners, but there was an undercurrent to it that Obi-Wan could clearly sense without being aware of the intricacies.
"The Republic has no stake in this. Mandalore is neutral and Republican intervention would risk the neutrality of the Republic towards its opponents." Windu confirmed what some in the room seemed to be thinking. From the corner of his eye he could see his master cross his arms lightly in the very same stance he assumed when his Padawan had said one thing but meant the other, exposing a dishonesty – or, more positively coded, an omission of facts.
"This is why you want to send an envoy," he guessed. "To protect her." It was more statement than question.
It was the first time that Master Yoda spoke, in that strange way the old master formed his sentences. "A good idea that would be. Send a full delegation, we cannot. Embolden her enemies it might. Gamble our neutrality it might."
"So what do we do? Protect her office? Her power? We cannot do that without an army and the Republic has none. The Jedi are none." Did he detect a slightly challenging tone in his master's voice? Obi-Wan couldn't be sure, but if in doubt about such things it was always more likely that there was when the Council was involved.
Master Yoda kept his gaze, but nodded. "A blade, the Jedi are not. But shadows move when light fades. Watchful, we must be."
If anyone was in any way disturbed by the Grand Master's crypticism, they did not show it. Qui-Gon shook his head lightly.
"She is a voice for peace, not just her office. She deserves protection the same way those in danger do. This cannot just be about removing her and keeping her safe for political purpose."
Master Windu shifted slightly. "What do you propose, Master Jinn?"
"Send us. Myself and Obi-Wan. Quietly. No banners, no declaration. No official mission or any connection to the Senate. If her enemies move from the shadows we can keep her safe without entangling the Republic in a war that is outside their jurisdiction. Or the Order in a conflict that is not for the Jedi to interfere in."
A clear chip towards those in the room that would see the Jedi be peacekeepers more effectively. Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably. Surely, Qui-Gon understood that the Duchess was worthy of protection, that her cause was? That the Jedi should take a stance in protecting her?
It was Master Mundi who voiced Obi-Wan's own uncertainty, asking for clarification. "So you would guard her. Not interfere?"
"Guard. Protect. And if the Force calls for it … act."
There was a moment of silence, then Master Yoda nodded. "Wise it might be to keep a low profile," he said. "To Mandalore you will go. See you must what stirs beneath."
"It is settled then." Master Windu concluded, leaning back in his seat and steepling his fingers. "This is not an official mission. No entanglements, no politics. You extract the Duchess and take her to a safe house. We have connections to some of her kin that can provide her with more security than she can currently be provided with if she stays in the capital. From there, her movement needs to regroup, but that is what we can do to protect her. A limited, time-sensitive operation. Get her out. Make sure she is safe. Leave before the Order's involvement becomes apparent."
To his left, he saw his master bowing slightly. To the untrained eye there was not much to it. A silent cue that the mission had been understood, that the meeting was concluded. But Obi-Wan understood the meaning of his master doing so before they had officially been dismissed.
"May the Force be with you," Windu concluded and they left.
Obi-Wan kept silent, walking beside his master and only addressing him when the doors had closed behind them and they found themselves back in the corridor, walking towards the lift.
"Master..."
He did not turn to look at him, but he could hear something like bemusement in his voice. "There is no reason to get upset, Padawan. I did not agree with the general necessity of the mission."
"The Council advises to get her out and to her kin. Surely she will be safest there. The politics about this seem very complicated."
Now he did turn as they waited for the lift doors to slide open. "She is not just the leader of her people, Obi-Wan," he addressed him more personally now, the bemusement gone, a gentle seriousness having taken its place. "She's a fulcrum. If she falls, Mandalore falls with her. We will protect her for as long as the Force deems necessary."
