The Force Wills - Chapter 31 (Patreon)

The following morning I was steadily walking down the serving line of the common central cafeteria in the Jedi Temple, with tray in hand and steadily building up my breakfast.

The place was filled with mostly initiates, adepts and cadres of younglings of various ages all going about filling their bellies. Few and far between were padawans and knight-teachers who were riding herd on some of them. It looked like a far more orderly scene than I’d experienced in high school, whilst the volume and chatter was almost eerily lacking.

My thoughts though were mostly still on Nack Movers.

He represented an unfortunate reality in the galaxy, that despite the Jedi Order’s best efforts even in the Republic, that sometimes Force Sensitives slipped through the cracks. It was definitely worse in the Mid Rim and the Outer Rim probably had more Sensitives walking around unaware and oblivious that could probably fill up the Coruscant Temple thrice over. It was one of the reasons why Jedi Chapterhouses existed on Mid Rim worlds and the masters would go on Foundling missions periodically to many worlds off the beaten path.

For those who were never found and continued life as normal, they grew up, experienced the pains of life, family, loss, love and so on. If their environment was comfortable, with very few stressors, then they’d almost never show any supernatural signs or gifts. The Force would express itself as luck or being extremely good in their chosen profession, they’d make decisions based on their Force empowered intuition and end up being rather successful in life. If they should somehow come to the attention of the Jedi Order, very quietly, a file would be opened. A minor investigation would follow, that was usually routine and that the person in question was not overly taking advantage of whatever gift they had developed and it wasn’t negatively affecting anyone around them. If they started any families, then the children were watched for Sensitivity and the Order would be ready to approach the family with the offer.

On the other side of the spectrum, you had Sensitives like Nack Movers. I had done my due diligence and discovered that no file existed on him in the Adult Sensitives database. He only had a Judicial file and it explained why he had not been detected by the Jedi Order as a youngling.

He was born on Trandosha. It was ostensibly a Republic world in the Mid Rim, just two sectors east from the Hapes Cluster, but the Trandoshan culture was almost antithetical to the principles espoused by the Jedi Order. There could be no chapterhouse there. The hunt and pleasing their goddess, the Scorekeeper, was all that mattered. They were also only considered part of the Republic by the skin of their pointy teeth.

The only thing that kept them there was their official position that those Trandoshans who hunted sentient beings or wookiees for jagannath points were ‘criminals’ and the most disreputable members of their society, the tiniest minority. Law-abiding Trandoshans only hunted the most formidable of animal prey and those that actually hunted people were licensed bounty hunters going about their profession.

Now as a result of fate, my choices and the Jedi being blind to this Mid Rim world, I had an untrained Force Sensitive Trandoshan assassin in my little conspiracy network.

Duty and the rules said I now had to put him in the Sensitives database.

Yeah, that wasn’t happening. It really made me wonder, in the past timeline, what had happened to it. Did Palpatine manage to get his hands on it? Did Obi-Wan and Yoda go on a little deletion spree during their infiltration of the Jedi Temple Archives after Order 66?

My breakfast was assembled and my feet carried me through the rows of tables, chairs, occasionally avoiding a rambunctious youngling before I sat down opposite Anakin.

He was rather intensely studying a datapad in front of him, whilst absentmindedly shoveling his own meal into his mouth.

“Good morning, master.”

He briefly looked up at me and swallowed, “Snips, had a good night?”

“Yes, thanks,” I answered, tucking into my food with a bit of gusto.

“Handle your lightsaber problem?”

“Yes, and let’s just say I now have informants,” I answered while pinging him across our Force Bond.

“I see, good. It always pays to have those.” He nodded but I could feel I was going to get grilled for details the moment we were away from Coruscant space.

“So, how did things go with Car Affa?”

“He flipped rather quickly all things considered, didn’t even have to lean on him that hard or call in a mindwalker.”

“Really? He must not have much business integrity.”

“If you read his client list then you’d understand. These are not a bunch of pleasant people at all. They’d sell him out in a heartbeat, so it’s understandable that he has little to no loyalty for them in turn when his skin is on the line.”

“So what are you reading so intently for?”

“Trying to find a lead that would benefit from our personal attention, also seeing if I can’t divine anything that would help.”

“Not content to just hand it all off to RI then, master?”

“No, Master Qui-gon said to Obi-wan, always trust in your instincts and right now something about this client list is setting them off, but I just can’t pinpoint it.”

“Mind if I have a try?”

Anakin huffed in frustration, “Might as well.”

He pushed the datapad over to me.

I turned it around, tapping and swiping at the screen to scroll through the files. “Master, the thing to always keep in mind about all the skills that allow us to push our perceptions forward and backward in time, is that trying to force such things to come on demand is much like seeking true inspiration or creativity to come on demand. The more you try, the further away it slips. Right now, I’m not pulling at the current of the river to come to me, I’m just opening my eyes and looking, watching the river - seeing if anything is bobbing on its surface.”

My language and metaphor was vastly simplistic but it was the best that Basic could do and I was considering Anakin as well. Each swipe of my finger was entire chains of events that rippled outward, closing and opening yet more possible events into huge, ever expanding branches. Going too far or trying to comprehend more than I was ready for was a very bad idea.

Ah ha, there it was.

I looked down and was rather astonished by the name I saw there. Yeah, it had to be an alias, someone knew his ancient history or had a massive ego. There was not much data on this client beyond a general physical description, a dead drop location, Holonet contact address, which was already confirmed to be retired,  I turned the datapad around and pushed it back, continuing my breakfast.

“Canderous?”

“Fake name, but it’s definitely Mandalorian.”

“What makes you think this is significant? The Mandalorians are a bunch of avowed pacifists.”

I really had to strain a bit not to laugh and choke on the piece of thimiar in my mouth.

“You could maybe say that of a majority of the Mandalorian youth today, but their parents and grandparents are a different story. No culture is monolithic, master. The fact is that we have a Mandalorian, who should all be ‘peaceful pacifists’ according to their own narrative, on the client list of a black market arms dealer that was purchasing stolen Republic weaponry.”

“Okay, that might be what is hitting my instincts, but I can sense you have more.” Anything I was going to say was interrupted when Anakin’s comlink beeped. He tapped it, “Yes, Obi-wan?”

“Emergency council meeting, ten minutes, don’t be late.”

“Very well, master.”

I quickly gulped down the last bits of thimiar on the plate, not wasting a scrap. It wasn’t everyday I could eat that, considering the stuff had to be imported from Shili in stasis.

Anakin laughed as I followed him with bulging cheeks.

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We entered the main communication center in the Temple and its central giant holotank showed an equally massive rendering of the galaxy with all the known hyperlanes snaking through those stars. Yoda, Obi-Wan and Mace Windu were all standing around it with the kind of bearing that I wouldn’t be surprised if steam started coming out of their ears.

“Ah, Anakin, Ahsoka, thank you for coming so promptly,” Obi-wan nodded in greeting. “There has been a rather troubling development.” He stepped to a terminal at the base of the holotank and began typing.The galactic rendering zoomed in to show the Hydian Way hyperspace lane focusing on a crossroads system called Corsin, which branched off into the Vathkree Trade Corridor. “One of our cruisers undergoing refueling on its way to Taris was ambushed and sabotaged.”

“By what? There shouldn’t be any CIS activity that far back down the Hydian,” Anakin said with exasperation.

“The question is not what, but rather who?” Obi-wan pushed a button and a holo-recording replaced the giant galaxy - showing a corridor of what had to be the Republic cruiser, somewhere that led to the engineering deck.

A group of clones were hunkering down in defense and the general alert alarm was blaring.

Suddenly, from a side access corridor, an explosion blew open a blast door before numerous grenades were thrown in. They had to be stun grenades as the flashes whited out the sensors briefly and it immediately put the clones on the backfoot. Just in time for a stack of armored men and women to burst in, who with quick and efficient precision blasted their way through the clones with impeccable skill and marksmanship.

The holo zoomed in and paused on one of the lead armored figures. Computer analysis began picking apart every detail and marking on the armor, bringing up matches from the database and highlighting them - including the signature T-shaped visors on the helmets.

Another holo panel with an image appeared, this one, according to its date, was a week or so before the Clone Wars kicked off. This image was on Kamino and showed the still image of Jango Fett in his armor.

“Mandalorians,” I muttered. Anakin glanced at me with slight incredulousness.

“Indeed, young Ahsoka, correct you are,” Yoda nodded and a small smile graced his green face. “Old enemies of the Jedi, they are.”

“This team of… Mandalorians,” Obi-wan said with a small hint of reluctance, “managed to cripple the cruiser. It had been on its way to join the Botajef garrison, but will now have to first be repaired in the field, before it can limp back to Kuat for major repair.”

“So have the Mandalorians joined the CIS if we are to judge from this?” Anakin asked.

“That is the question that must be answered urgently,” Windu declared. “Officially, Mandalore has declared itself neutral in the hostilities between the CIS and the Republic. Their pacifist New Mandalorian ways does not allow them to even materially or financially contribute to the war. This recording has reached the eyes of the Loyalist Committee and has caused considerable political tension, especially because Mandalore leads the newly formed Council of Neutral Systems. Now there is doubt over whether their stated neutrality is just a convenient ruse, while they contribute Mandalorian commandos to the CIS war effort.”

“Whatever this is, I do not think we are witnessing an officially sanctioned operation,” Obi-wan said with certainty.

“Certain of that you are, Master Kenobi?” Yoda probed.

“I am entirely certain Duchess Satine would never order this.”

“Perhaps,” Windu looked up into the massive holos. “The problem is that your certainty must be backed up with evidence we can place before the Senate. The Duchess may also not have ordered this raid, but she has an entire government below her with people in positions of influence and power that may have a desire to return to the old Mandalorian ways.”

Obi-wan stroked his beard, “Then I will go to Mandalore myself and ascertain the truth of the matter.”

“Agreed, Skywalker and Padawan Tano, go with you they shall,” Yoda said.

“That would be somewhat excessive, Master Yoda, for what should be a diplomatic visit,” Obi-wan pointed out.

The Grandmaster of the Order looked to Anakin and then to me with a rather inscrutable expression.

“Dangerous times these are, Master Kenobi. Legendary warriors the Mandalorians were, who fought and crossed blades with the Jedi many times over the ages. In this time of galactic conflict, foresee I do, there will be those who wish to bring the past to the present.”

“Very well, Master. Anakin, Ahsoka, we leave in the afternoon, 1400.”

We bowed at the dismissal and as we walked out of the com center, my head was somewhat spinning as I metaphysically looked back, tracing the path of events.

I had dealt with my missing lightsaber alone. Not needing the help of Master Tera Sinube, the elderly Jedi who was effectively the Order’s criminal specialist. I hadn’t met him, therefore I couldn’t be roped in to help teach his joint class of younglings with Yoda. This briefing had probably happened in the timeline that was, but now that I was free for assignment…

Good grief, I pulled away from the probability lines, feeling the beginnings of a headache.

I steeled myself… I had chosen this path and would see it through.

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If there was one thing about life in a galaxy with hyperspace, fighting a war and being a Jedi, it was that you would barely be back at home for a few days, then you would abruptly find yourself back on a ship returning the same way you had just taken to come home.

The ship in question that Obi-wan chose for our journey to Mandalore was a rather nostalgic surprise, if only for myself. Anakin found the thing hopelessly archaic and undergunned naturally.

“A single laser cannon turret? Really?”

Obi-wan dearly looked like he wanted to heave a long-suffering sigh. “This is the only ship we have on short notice that met the passenger requirements while not being an overtly military ship. Arriving in anything remotely naval and well armed will not be conducive to getting on Duchess Satine’s good side.”

“But a YT-1000 light freighter of all things?” Anakin practically whined.

I had to do a small mental exercise to keep the amusement off my face as we stood in the expansive main hangar of the Jedi Temple. In front of me was the predecessor to the famous YT-1300 of the future.

The YT-1000 was a saucer shaped craft with its cockpit blister sticking directly out the front of the vessel with the two forward cargo spurs flanking it on either side. You could definitely see the design lineage in every curve and strut of the vessel, which would lead to the Millennium Falcon. This specific craft had been worked on by Temple engineers to reach a Class 1 hyperdrive rating, including quite a few defensive systems such as heavier shielding, armor and a comprehensive ECM suite. They had even managed it whilst still keeping the outward visual profile and appearance looking relatively normal, including giving the ship a rather weathered look. Just passing it by, the layman would assume he was looking at a normal, older freighter and not a lightly armed, heavily defensive, diplomatic vessel.

Obi-wan merely folded his arms, gave his old student a look and waited patiently.

“Fine, fine,” Anakin relented and pushed our gear up the loading ramp on its repulsorlift.

“Indignant question: Master, are you sure you wish to entrust our existence to this ridiculous scrapheap?”

I could not stop my own long-suffering sigh at HK’s question and turned to the droid, who was looking rather naked without his cannons on his back.

“What’s the matter, HK? Don’t you trust the Temple engineers?”

“Answer: I have studied the service life of this… thing. I sincerely doubt any technical skill could possibly restore it to a serviceable state.”

“The engineers disagree with you, get on.”

“Reluctant obeyance: Very well, master.”

HK-47 grabbed his own chest of gear and walked up the ramp.

“Sorry about that Master Kenobi and thank you for letting me bring him. Ever since he heard we were going to Mandalore he’s been a nightmare.”

Obi-wan nodded, “Given HK’s history, I’d imagine he’d be an asset if the worst comes to pass. Do keep him on a short leash though.”

HK had only recently returned from a long-term mission I’d sent him on, to Cato Neimoida. Keeping an eye on Rush Clovis and a number of other tasks which would keep the banker happy and content with his lot.

I bowed to Obi-wan in acknowledgement and thanks, and walked up the ramp.

The interior was the typical industrial Corellian aesthetic, but nicely cleaned up with even a fresh coat of paint. If I looked quickly, I could imagine I was on the Falcon itself, but this was a smaller ship with space for two crew, four passengers and only 75 tons of internal cargo. There was not even a tiny recreation area, with only a single narrow circular corridor winding through the ship, that led to the various compartments.

Anakin was naturally in the forward cockpit busy familiarizing himself with everything.

“So this ship has a name, Skyguy?” It was very much bad luck even in the Corusca galaxy for a ship carrying people to not have a name.

“Yes, it’s the Pilgrim.”

I dumped myself in the co-pilot seat and considered that. It was okay, dignified, though not memorable. It was a small ongoing quest of mine to find a ship that could also be a home away from home, but so far nothing that was being sold by any of the starship manufacturers had really hit that sweet spot I was looking for. What also went with that was to find a name for it, which had also been eluding me.

More and more it seemed I was going to have to design my own ship and send it to a manufacturer, though that was stupidly expensive, not to mention would make it unique and unable to really blend in anywhere.

“All right, Anakin, time to go,” Obi-wan announced, stepping into the cockpit.

The urgency of our mission bumped us up to priority departure, which allowed the Pilgrim to take a direct launch trajectory from the Jedi Temple, straight up out of the atmosphere of Coruscant.

The queue we couldn’t skip though was the wait for the outbound north east hyperspace lane that would get us back on the Hydian Way.

I took the time to familiarize myself with the ECM suite of the Pilgrim. It was a full military package, with even gravitic and magnetometric chaff, not to mention a system that would slightly bloom or shrink the Pilgrim’s EM profile to make it appear to be an entirely different craft as long as you remained beyond visual range. That was a rather neat trick.

“Finally, here we go.” Anakin pulled on the hyperdrive lever and the stars streaked past us until we were plunged into the roiling blue infinite tunnel of hyperspace. He listened carefully to the sound of the engines, consulted a few readings before nodding. “I think we’re good. The engineers did a good job with this rustbucket.”

“I’ll be sure to pass your glowing praise along to them,” Obi-wan said dryly. “Now that we’re underway I want to brief you all on the specifics of Mandalore and what you can expect.”

“Oh, that’s right, you spent a lot of time there as a padawan,” Anakin said, tapping the controls and engaging the autopilot.

We followed Obi-wan to the only central meeting place the Pilgrim had, its cramped galley. Anakin got himself a glass of water before sitting down. I grabbed a caf and Obi-wan declined a drink when I offered him the same.

The Jedi master put a small holo-projector on the table and it activated to show the world in question.

“That’s the oddest desert world I’ve ever seen,” Anakin commented.

“That’s because it is technically a man made desert. The world was utterly ruined to ecological collapse. Their latest civil war killed off the last vegetation and fauna roughly twenty years ago. The planet is technically uninhabitable, but the Mandalorians are a stubborn people and refuse to leave. They live in domed cities that dot the planet’s surface at the points where all their old cities used to stand. Their agriculture all takes place in artificial skyscrapers inside these domes and on the primary moon, Concordia, which is the only place in the system where the old biodiversity of Mandalore still survives in some form.

“Even Concordia, though, is scarred from extensive mining practices that used to fuel their war machine. Most of their budget and resources is focused on returning the moon to its former lush state, which would allow greater food production and ease the strain of their rigid population controls. They also depend a great deal on food imports as their local production falls well short of supplying their needs.”

“Which neatly explains their reluctance to do anything for the Republic war effort. They literally can’t afford it in either monetary, manpower or material terms. I also can’t imagine the war has done their food imports any favors,” I reasoned.

“Exactly,” Obi-Wan nodded. “The same can be said for a lot of worlds on the new Council for Neutral Systems. The war has driven up the import costs and so the people of Mandalore have to cough up even more credits to just keep their current population fed, never mind expanding that.”

“Statement: It is almost sad, to see the old enemy reduced to such a deplorable state,” HK piped up from the door, where he was leaning his white GU chassis against the galley door frame. “I remember when the galaxy trembled at the mere mention of Mandalorians. Their crusades threatened the Old Republic’s very existence and was a great factor in why Revan himself eventually fell.”

“I think we can all agree though that we’re glad the New Mandalorians would never threaten the galaxy in that way again,” Obi-Wan declared.

“Statement: That may be, meatbag. Conjecture: The situation you’re describing now though is exactly the conditions any remaining old Mandalorian agitators would look for to regain support, including external elements such as the CIS.”

“Which is why we must proceed on this mission with extra caution and be diplomatically sensitive. If there is a rogue element at work in the New Mandalorian government they will act in some manner against us. Perhaps try to drive a further wedge between the Republic and Mandalore. That is why only Ahsoka and I will leave the ship when we land and make contact with Duchess Satine. You two will remain and watch over the Pilgrim.”

“Babysitting the ship, come on, Obi-wan,” Anakin shook his head.

“There is a time and place for action, my old padawan and you are not the most subtle or diplomatic Jedi I would choose to have at my side for this.”

I grinned, “Patience master, something is going to happen sooner or later and you can bet we’re going to have all the action we can stomach.”

He gave me a raised eyebrow, “Really?”

“Master, it’s us, when have we ever gotten anywhere and something has not blown up, crashed or gone wrong in some sort of spectacular way?”

Obi-wan thoughtfully stroked his beard, “That is a rather good point your padawan has, Anakin.”

“Are you saying I’m a magnet for trouble?”

“Anakin, you’ve been a magnet for trouble since before you were an initiate,” Obi-wan didn’t hide his smile at all this time.

Anakin gulped his water down with a disgruntled air, “Come on, HK, cargo hold, let’s spar.”

The assassin droid looked at me, “Go ahead, HK.”

“Eager approval: Thank you, master.”

I continued drinking at my caf, whilst Obi-Wan seemed slightly melancholic staring at the holo of the world he had spent nearly more than a year on, fighting for both his own life and defending Satine.

“Ahsoka, how is Anakin?”

The question was softly uttered but that did nothing to prevent me from being startled by it. I put my cup down and met Obi-Wan’s eyes as I considered an answer. This was not a Jedi Council Master speaking at the moment, but rather the man who had been a father and mentor figure to Anakin. It left me with an interesting dilemma. I was just as vested in Anakin’s psychological and physical well being as Obi-Wan was. I had to give an answer that was as close to the truth as possible, whilst preserving trust and privacy.

“If there is one word I can use to describe him at the moment, then it’s frustration. Frustration that the war has no clear road towards its end. Frustration of the burden placed on him and the expectations of the Order. He worries about me, you and all his friends - that this war will result in our deaths.”

He nodded in understanding, “A feeling many share. Beware, however, that frustration doesn’t lead to fear.” My own frustration at that sentiment from Obi-Wan I kept carefully hidden, letting it pass through me. “I’m also rather impressed at the progress of both of you in the past year, despite the demands the war places on you.”

“Thank you, Master Kenobi. It’s not easy but somehow we find ways to make the time for it.”

“Good. We must not forget that when all is said and done, we are still Jedi and only fighting now to win the peace. We would do well to take the lesson that the history of Revan teaches.”

I couldn’t resist that. “How well do you know that history, master?”

“It is something that I only knew in general in the past, but when you recovered HK-47, I did a bit of further historical research. A fascinating chain of events, with a number of parallels we can draw to today. The Jedi follow the charismatic Revan to war against the Mandalorian crusaders, a split in the Order, the disagreement over whether to fight at all, their fall.”

“We can hopefully chart a course away from all that,” I said with as much optimism and hope as I could but my rebellious brain and heart didn’t feel it. How could I? Given what I knew.

Obi-Wan gave me a look that I hadn’t really fooled him, “You are perhaps correct to hold onto that cynicism, padawan, given what you’ve experienced in the war, but don’t let it blind you to the possibility of good in people and the galaxy.”

“Yes, master.”

We heard the snap-hiss ignition of lightsabers, their electric humming and clashing, echoing through the ship.

“Shall we go and observe? I’m rather curious how a droid of HK’s experience handles a lightsaber.”

“I doubt you would walk away from it feeling disappointed, Master Kenobi.”

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The Pilgrim emerged from hyperspace four and a half days later outside the mass shadow of Mandalore.

A look at the passive scanners showed that space traffic around the world was rather sparse, with the majority of craft going to and fro from the moon of Concordia. It also showed me that I could park a single Venator in orbit and conquer the place in less than an afternoon. There was not even a single armed satellite that I could detect. Maybe they had starfighters squirreled away somewhere in the dome cities, but nothing I was seeing showed that they could resist if the CIS showed up tomorrow with just a couple of Munificients. The only thing that saved their asses was the Republic Navy’s current stranglehold on the Hydian, with the front line battlespace 1700 lightyears away in straight line, but requiring 2300 lightyears of travel due to hyperspace lane routes.

My focus turned to the moon of Concordia and I could pick up nothing but civilian activity; standard fusion power generation, large towns, the occasional active mine, but a steadily recovering biosphere. My fingers itched to switch on active scans but that would be rude and undiplomatic.

Anakin smoothly inserted the Pilgrim into the atmosphere of Mandalore, setting a straight course for the capital city of Sundari, whilst also speaking to the traffic control and sending our diplomatic credentials.

It didn’t take long after that for us to be given landing clearance to a landing spot on the upper exterior of the city dome.

The sheer size of the dome was truly impressive and from a distance it rose out of the flat lifeless sands of the desert like someone had taken a small, thirty kilometer diameter Death Star and buried it halfway.

The Pilgrim landed on a large pad that had its own demarcated space, but not far away dozens of large freighters were coming and going, delivering goods and taking the city’s exports away to be sold.

Already waiting for us on the landing pad was an open-top transport speeder, where a tall burly guardsman in ornate but very functional blue and white armor was standing, holding a force pike. My eyes could already pick out that his gauntlets, upper chest and helmet armor was made of beskar iron.

Sundari was sitting right on top of the only active beskar iron mine in the galaxy. The Mandalorians had used it since the days of the Old Republic in the creation of their weapons, armor and starships. Naturally, the New Mandalorians only used it for peaceful purposes, but the secrets of creating beskar, the additives required, the process, which truly gave it its infamous strength that could resist blaster and lightsaber, was a jealously guarded secret. A secret even the New Mandalorians would take to their graves, never revealing it to outsiders.

“All right, Anakin, HK, watch the ship, you can take passive intelligence gathering measures only,” Obi-wan reiterated.

“Statement: I am already in their unsecured communications, meatbag. I will crack the secured ones shortly.”

“Good, Ahsoka, off we go.”

We left the ship and for this occasion, I was in my full Aegis armor minus the helmet. The reasoning was that Obi-Wan was still in his half-armor and I really wanted the capabilities considering who was waiting on Concordia. As much as I wanted to deal with a non-antagonistic Satine, there was something about arch-pacifists that rubbed me the wrong way and I couldn’t resist shoving a bit of pragmatic reality her way.

Obi-wan would’ve liked to have me in less militaristic attire, but my armor had enough Jedi-ish aesthetic that it was just a slightly more armored version of his outfit in effect.

“The Duchess awaits you, General Kenobi,” the Mandalorian guardsman spoke up as we approached him. He turned abruptly and got on the speeder.

We both got on the flat top speeder as the guardsman activated it and abruptly the world around us just seemed to explode into a blurring speed.

I regarded the speeder below my feet with an impressed awe. Such strong inertial dampeners in such a small package, not to mention the shield in front keeping us from being blown off.

The speeder passed through the dome entrance and beyond was a truly breathtaking city where not a single cubic meter of space seemed to be wasted, yet didn’t give the impression of being cramped.

The buildings were based on cuboid designs and didn’t just go up and down, but also horizontally in a manner that neatly showed off the strength of beskar. Clear lanes of air traffic were designated through the morass of buildings, which were themselves rather beautiful, with sheets of transparisteel that were both translucent and transparent. The buildings themselves could intelligently act as mirrors, bringing light from the outer edges of the dome into the interior depths.

In the very center of the dome a large open area housed the Sundari Royal Palace and neighboring it was a large park with the only plants I had seen so far in the entire dome.

It was all beautiful but the artificiality of it just left a bad final impression on me. I was perhaps just a bit too much of a nature freak. Ironic, considering the Jedi Temple had been my home for the last 13 years, but this was probably my love of Naboo talking and my journeys in my old life to southern Africa and Asia.

The Royal Palace was a rather muted affair considering the name it had. It wasn’t some towering edifice of opulence and beauty, but rather just five floors of architecture that I’d call ‘hypermodern’, with an abundance of transparisteel. The only way you’d realize this was an important structure was all the guardsmen it had and the strict no-fly zones that surrounded it.

We were led inside and another problem with it came to the fore. It was almost too transparent. I could look in a direction and see through multiple rooms and offices. It was like they were screaming, ‘We have nothing to hide’. Everyone could see what everyone else was doing. That a government could be run out of this place was astonishing.

Finally, we arrived in what had to be an audience chamber for the Duchess on the upper floor of the palace.

It was a long, rectangular room with a high slanted, partially transparent ceiling, through which you could see a dozen buildings seemingly suspended overhead. It was slightly nerve wracking as I tried to imagine the physics going on above my head.

On the far end of the room, against the wall, was a tall throne that stood on half a dozen raised steps. It didn’t have much ostentation but its high backrest was made out of artfully stained transparisteel with flowery shapes all pointing to a central red circle.

A door hissed open at the side of the chamber and a balding man in his late middle ages walked in. He was immaculately groomed with graying blonde hair, beard and goatee and wore stately, yet understated white and beige clothing. His strides showed he was still physically strong despite appearances.

“General Kenobi,” the man greeted with a mild smile.

“Thank you for meeting with us, Prime Minister Almec.” The two men briefly shook hands. “This is Commander Ahsoka Tano, my assistant.”

“A pleasure to meet you, commander,” he promptly shook my hand as well, giving a slight appraising eye to my armor.

“A pleasure to be here, Prime Minister.”

“I greet you both here as a servant of the people,” he stated, stepping back and immediately getting to business. “However, I am troubled by the false rumors that brought you here.” He graciously gestured for us to walk with him towards the throne. “Mandalore would never turn against the Republic. Duchess Satine values peace more than her own life.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of the Duchess’ views-” Obi-Wan began but was somewhat rudely interrupted by Almec.

“Master Kenobi, Mandalore’s violent past is behind us. After the civil war, all of our warriors who refused to lay down their arms and armor were exiled to our moon Concordia. They promptly began fighting amongst themselves there and died out.”

“Are you so certain of that? Before the war, I encountered a man who wore Mandalorian armor, who was also very proficient in fighting me, by the name of Jango Fett.”

“Jango Fett was a common bounty hunter,” Almec insisted. “How he acquired that armor I couldn’t begin to say. No beskar smith on Mandalore would consent to-”

Almec was interrupted in turn.

“Well, Master Kenobi,” said a rather pleasant, yet commanding, female voice. Entering the audience chamber from another door to the side of the throne, was Duchess Satine herself.

She was rather beautiful in a classical sort of way; high cheekbones, prominent nose and pointed chin with razor sharp blue eyes that I could tell held a strong will and intelligence. Her outfit was an elegant blue and green gown with a stately headdress woven into her blonde hair that would give a Nubian queen’s headgear a run for its money in complexity and size.

Getting that thing perfect must take ages and made me rather grateful I didn’t have hair on my head to be styled in such exhaustive fashion.

She was followed by two Royal guardsmen with force pikes and a male assistant wearing a hooded robe.

“My shining Jedi Knight to the rescue once again.” I couldn’t decide whether her tone was mocking or simply a statement of fact. She walked to her throne which lit up with an inner light from the backrest the moment she sat down, including a muted chime that echoed through the room. “And what’s this, you have a padawan?”

“Not technically, no, allow me to introduce Padawan Ahsoka Tano, the padawan of my previous student, who has accompanied me on this journey.”

I bowed in reflex as I was introduced.

“Has it been so long since we last saw each other?” Satine marveled.

“Well, the long years have not detracted from your beauty,” Obi-wan declared with a completely straight face.

Her eyes narrowed, “Kind words from a man who accuses me of treason.”

“I would never accuse you of personal wrongdoing, duchess,” Obi-Wan protested earnestly without pause. “However, a group of Seperatist saboteurs attacked one of our cruisers, Mandalorian saboteurs.” He produced a handheld holopad, which activated and showed a fluid holoclip of one of the saboteurs in full Mandalorian armor with jetpack, running, gunning and killing clone troopers.

Almec shook his head at it, his face twisting with distaste. “This has to be a false flag. I don’t know where anyone would get that armor, are you even sure it was actual beskar? No Mandalorian would engage in such violence, not anymore.”

Obi-wan tapped on the holopad, it advanced to show the Mandalorian’s armor clearly taking multiple hits from the clone trooper’s blasters and the wearer easily shrugging off the blasts.

Almec was rather astonished. It was rather interesting that he actually felt that way and was not just putting on a show.

Satine clenched a fist on her armrest, leaned forward, indignant anger radiating out from her, “Every one of my people is as trustworthy as I am.”

I wonder if Obi-Wan caught that little emphasis.

“I know we sound defensive but-” her robed assistant began but was interrupted.

Satine continued as if her assistant hadn’t even spoken, “Clearly your investigation was ordered because the Senate is eager to intervene in our affairs!”

“The investigation was ordered by the Jedi Council,” Obi-Wan corrected her gently.

Her face softened somewhat, she sat back and visibly calmed down. “I stand corrected,” she acknowledged, then held out her hand invitingly, palm down. “General Kenobi, perhaps you’d like to join me on a walk through the city.”

Satine’s abrupt shift in tone from forbidding monarch to a pleasant ‘queen’ was rather jarring. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at her and she merely gave him an inscrutable look. Whatever subtext communication was going on here, it gave Obi-Wan a clear message and he stepped forward to take hold of her offered hand. At which point she stood, her throne dimmed, she grabbed a hold of Obi-Wan’s arm and the two of them walked towards the audience chamber exit. Two royal guardsmen automatically stepped forward to escort them and kept a respectful distance behind.

Obi-Wan gave me a look in turn and I acknowledged it with a visible nod. It would’ve been a bit too suspicious to have no open communication between me and him at this point.

They left the room and most everyone else including guardsmen, attendants and Almec also left. I gave Obi-Wan a thirty second head start before starting to follow.

Their destination was the neighboring park, which had the rather on the nose name of Peace Park. In a domed city such as Sundari, the idea of a park or garden was quite different from the norm. It was in effect, just as artificial as the city, consisting of four floors of enclosed space, with only the upper floor open to the air. Plants were beautifully arranged and interspersed on floors of transparisteel, with benches allowing people to sit and relax among ‘nature’. I really wouldn’t call it nature, since the plants themselves were manicured to cuboid shapes, but at least they were green.

I could sense Obi-Wan with Satine on the upper floor of the park and decided to head to the lowest floor to get a sense of the ordinary Mandalorian people.

It was immediately apparent that the park was a favorite spot for local couples to get together. There were very little public displays of affection, but it was easy to sense the attraction, affection, lust and love in the air around them. There were also families with children and parents trying to ride herd on them, which had me automatically smiling at the sight.

It was overall a very pleasant place for a Jedi, despite the artificial surroundings. I felt like I could get a bit lost in just experiencing the small oasis of life and Light in the Force.

Duty called though and I tapped my armor’s encrypted comlink, which paired and linked with Obi-Wan’s comms.

My feet carried me through the park and I affected the appearance as if I was just the same as the others around me, enjoying the place. My mind’s eye through Farsight was watching Obi-Wan and Satine, looking for threats that wouldn’t be apparent to the guardsmen and watching the master’s back, so to speak.

“...Mandalore is prosperous since the last time I was here,” said Obi-Wan.

Satine’s face turned somewhat bitter, “Not everyone on Mandalore believes peace is a sign of progress. There’s a group that calls itself Deathwatch. I imagine these are the renegades you are looking for. They idolize violence and our warrior past. There are those among us, certain officials who are working to root out these criminals. It has been an ongoing investigation.”

Obi-wan frowned with worry, “How widespread is this Deathwatch movement?”

Satine looked somewhat exasperated, “It’s hardly a movement. It’s a small group of hooligans who choose to vandalize public places, nothing more. We shall soon have them in custody. They’ve been tracked down to Concordia.”

“I hope you’re right, duchess. Sabotaging a Republic cruiser is a bit of an extreme escalation from mere vandalizing.”

Satine nodded regally, “Yes, that is worrying as is the fact that they were wearing full beskar armor. I did not want to speak of this in the throne room as everything said there becomes public record… but one of our beskar smiths is missing and we believe she’s either part of Deathwatch or held hostage by them.”

“A Mandalorian beskar smith possibly working for the Separatists, willing or not, is not a pleasant thought to consider, duchess.”

“It is a nightmare scenario for Mandalore,” Satine acknowledged. “However, we’ve studied the smith’s psychological record extensively. Despite her possible poor choice in allegiance, she won’t release the secrets of beskar to the CIS, she’s Mandalorian and that secret is sacrosanct to us all. We don’t choose our smiths idly. They undergo the most vigorous screening, training and vetting in the galaxy before they even get a chance to hold a hammer.”

I tried to brace myself yet despite my preparation I still flinched when the instant, tearing, cracking noise of an explosion washed over me. It disrupted my focus and I lost my Farsight.

The overpressure felt like someone had just slapped my montrals and a strong breeze blasted me in the face.

My eyes were drawn to the top floor of the park as smoke and fire raged from one end.

Where a large obelisk monument had been, was only rubble and debris.

Then the screaming started and I immediately sensed many signs of life beginning to wane and struggle, including some wink out entirely.

Not ten feet from me a piece of high velocity debris had struck a man dead.

A surge of people fled away and I had to do a bit of fancy footwork to dodge through them as I ran along the edge of the park.

“Master! Are you okay?” I asked urgently.

“I’m fine, Ahsoka, as is the duchess. We have more than a dozen dead and numerous injured up here. Keep an eye out, the bomber may be close.”

My run carried me closer to the bomb site, to the north-west and Obi-Wan came through again.

“I think I have him, Ahsoka, in pursuit, heading west. Come up to this level and try to cut him off!”

I skidded to a stop and reversed course, fixing and sensing Obi-wan's relative position in my mind.

Thankfully, the initial wave of fleeing people had passed and I was left with clear ground to run, allowing me to open up the taps for a bit of Force Sprinting.

“I have him cornered…”

I looked up in time to hear blaster fire coming from a balcony four floors above me.

The snap-hiss of Obi-wan’s lightsaber followed.

I was a bit torn on whether to jump and scale the distance or…

The shooting ended abruptly and the sound of a lightsaber shutting itself off reached me. Then a scuffle and the sound of a body hitting the floor.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Obi-wan said.

Ah, the advantages of being a Togruta. Of course, it wasn’t just my natural echosense and good hearing, but also the Force, and I could sense Obi-Wan, Satine and someone else above me, presumably the bomber.

“Stay back,” he urged Satine.

In the next moment I saw the bomber jumping onto the railing, facing Obi-wan and Satine.

I had never before sensed the emotions and mind of someone clearly on his way to commit suicide. It was extremely unpleasant and unnerving. It was utter focus, an almost complete abandonment of self, mixed with a madness as he accepted his fate. His mind was filled with only one last task.

“Cal pava bro’kun, del shi ve’raan!”

The bomber raised his arms and fell back, his face turning into a contented smile as he plunged to his death.

“No,” I declared and raised a hand.

He had barely fallen for two seconds before my telekinesis caught him, slowing him down steadily until he was seemingly lying on nothing but air, just a meter before the hard unyielding transparisteel floor.

The bomber tried to turn his head, his eyes widening in disbelief.

I swiftly turned my TK from a catch, to a Stasis, freezing him in place and rotating him to face me.

Now close enough to touch the fanatic, and presumably a Deathwatch member, I could spot areas on the crown of his bald head that showed thickening of the skin. He most likely wore that infamous helmet a lot. His eyes bulged in disbelief and then anger at the sight of me.

“Yes, a Jedi, you’re welcome and good night.” I tapped him on the forehead, where he immediately slumped into a deep sleep.

Obi-wan and Satine emerged from a building doorway as I lowered the man gently to the floor and began examining and searching him. I was also acutely aware that there was now a crowd of onlookers, a number of which had clearly seen my efforts. The sirens now reached us of emergency service speeders arriving and landing on the upper floor.

“Well done, padawan, glad you could make it in time,” Obi-wan smiled with relief, kneeling down on the other side of the insensate bomber.

“You’re welcome, master.”

Satine looked at me with an earnest gratitude that I could tell she truly felt, “Thank you for saving his life, padawan. Despite what he has just done, more death is not what we need.”

Obi-wan abruptly stood with lightsaber bursting into life, angling his blade horizontal, just in time to deflect a yellow blaster bolt into the ground that had come from above us.

I grabbed the shoulders of the sleeping bomber and pulled, whilst my own lightsabers jumped off my belt, ignited and aided our defense from the sniper.

Renewed screams echoed in my montrals as the crowd scattered again.

Satine helped me pull the heavy man back into the doorway they had come from.

The instant we had a roof over our heads I fell back on my butt with a huff and recalled my blades.

Obi-wan stayed in the doorway, his blade still lit, “Everyone all right?” he asked urgently.

“We’re fine, Obi-wan,” Satine huffed, straightening her headpiece somewhat in irritation.

Royal guardsmen burst onto the scene and their leader promptly began securing every exit and entrance to this level of the park.

“I think I managed to send a blast right back at him, but he was perched from an overarching building nearly two hundred meters above us.”

“More than likely overwatch to make sure the bomber did his job and keep him from being captured should he fail to take his own life,” I said. I knew Deathwatch were hardass fanatics utterly devoted to their code, but this showed a higher level of sheer ruthlessness.

Now that things were somewhat safer I refocused on my search of the bomber, employing technometric senses as well.

From his pocket a small holo emitter jumped out, landed on the floor and burst to life with an odd tri-pronged symbol.

“It is a symbolic representation of the jai’galaar or shriek-hawk; it was used at all the other places where Deathwatch has struck on Mandalore,” Satine explained.

I held my hand over his torso and winced as I yanked with my TK at something else.

Satine jumped as suddenly the bomber’s pants bulged over his crotch. I moved the object inside up and it jumped out of his pants.

“Oh, a miniature hold out blaster, was that where I think it was?” Obi-wan asked.

“Yes,” I answered, not wanting to think about it further and dumped the stinky weapon to the side.

I sensed something else and hovered my hand over the bomber’s head, his mouth specifically. Then pulled open the man’s jaw and regarded his right rear molar.

“He’s got a small suicide implant back there, why didn’t he just use that?”

“Not dramatic enough I expect and he wanted to send a message,” Obi-wan theorized.

“We know of such devices,” Satine declared. “I will have our doctors remove it safely and he’ll be kept under suicide watch.” She gestured to her guardsmen, two of whom came forward.

They binded hands and legs, picked up the bomber and carried him off. Another came forward and carefully bagged the holopad and miniature blaster before leaving with the evidence.

“What was he saying before he jumped, duchess? My Mando’a is a bit rusty,” Obi-wan asked, as he clipped his lightsaber to his belt.

“‘We are the Death Watch, of the true warrior faith’,” she explained. “He also spoke it with a Concordian dialect.”

“We would much like to visit this moon of yours, as it seems that is where all signs are pointing.”

Satine visibly thought about it, “The Concordian moon is a province with its own governor. If you want to investigate there in a speedy fashion, you’ll need me to escort you.”

“That really won’t be necessary,” he disagreed, clearly fearing somewhat for her safety.

“A Concordian stands accused of mass murder, terrorism and treason, he’ll eventually be remanded to their custody. You cannot wade the political and bureaucratic waters without me.”

She decisively turned around, not giving him a further chance to argue and walked off.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the wan fondness and regret in Obi-Wan’s eyes as she disappeared into the distance with her retinue of guards

I coughed somewhat awkwardly, “Master Kenobi?”

“Ah yes, sorry, got a bit lost in my thoughts. Inform the others that we’ll be taking the duchess’ transport to Concordia. They are to discreetly follow our position from orbit and be ready to respond should we signal for help. I’ve got a feeling we’re going to need it.”

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A/N: The beginning of the Mandalorian arc.  This gonna be fun :-)