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When they’d started their mission, Qui-Gon had told Obi-Wan that this mission would probably only last for a few weeks, a month at the most.
»The Clan Wars are coming to a breaking point,« his Master had said, »something will have to give soon.«
Obi-Wan nodded. He was used to these missions. They wouldn’t stay for long.
Three months later, Obi-Wan and sighed at how wrong his master had been.
They had to run from the start. Not just once or twice, but constantly. The Death Watch were relentless in their hunt, and protecting the Duchess was far more challenging than either of the Jedi had anticipated.
It was wearing them all down, bit by bit.
Qui-Gon looked far older now than he had when they’d begun their mission, the creases around his eyes were deepening every day. Worry ate away at him, worry that the Death Watch would get the drop on them, that Mandalore’s last hope of peace would slip through his fingers.
Obi-Wan worried about failing the mission, failing the Council. Failing to protect the Duchess would be catastrophic. He grew to worry about other things later.
Satine Kryze was… something else, Obi-Wan thought. At first she had just been a young woman, smart and pretty, but just another important political figure they'd been ordered to protect. She’d been as snobbish and arrogant as most other politicians he’d encountered.
After a while though, something changed. Obi-Wan found himself trying to dismiss the way his stomach flipped whenever she glanced at him.
Obi-Wan tried to brush it off, to play the role of the stalwart Jedi, calm and professional in the face of danger. He wouldn’t get attached, he had decided early on. This was a foolish crush, and it would pass soon enough.
She made it difficult for him. It seemed to Obi-Wan that she looked at him far too much, asked too many personal questions, smiled too much when they talked.
The first time he fell flat on his face and she laughed as she helped him up, a quiet, clear sound, he realised that this crush wasn't going away anytime soon. It was alright. Obi-Wan had become accustomed to repressing his emotions after his attachment to Siri.
Apart from being far more compassionate and funny than Obi-Wan had anticipated, Satine had a way to push Obi-Wan’s buttons, much to Qui-Gon’s chagrin.
The two of them could argue about anything. Where they should go next, how to talk to the locals, obscure history, anything.
Qui-Gon never raised his voice at the Duchess, no matter how infuriating she was. Obi-Wan found his Master’s patience with her rather remarkable. Of course that same patience didn’t always extend to Obi-Wan.
It was an ambush.
They’d been deep undercover for months now, out of contact with almost everyone. They travelled by foot or hoverbike most of the time, avoiding anything that could be traced. They were desperate to shake the bounty hunters that had been following them for the past month.
They were in a mountain-pass on Draboon, a terrible place in Obi-Wan’s opinion.
Only hours earlier they had narrowly escaped a swarm of venom-mites while trying to cross their nests, what they had thought would be the easier, safer route through the mountains.
They backtracked their steps to find the steeper climb, all of them tired but in a fairly good mood. Satine jested about needing a patch of bacta. Obi-Wan had dropped her when the mites had attacked — something he was sure he’d never hear the end of.
Suddenly Qui-Gon ignited his lightsaber and instinctively Obi-Wan followed suit, quickly falling into a now-familiar pattern of defence around Satine.
Grenades rained down on them. The two Jedi pushed them off course before they came close enough to do harm, and Obi-Wan saw their attackers. A squadron of Death Watch Warriors. How did they find us?, Obi-Wan thought wildly.
»Betrayer!,« one Mandalorian shouted as he flew towards them, Qui-Gon blocking his strafe of blaster bolts and returning a few to the attacker. The man cursed and fell back as one bolt grazed his thigh, but a team member quickly took his place and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but be impressed with how seamlessly they worked.
The air filled with loud, jeering voices and non-stop blaster fire. The Death Watch squad hurled insults at Satine in both Mando’a and Basic and Obi-Wan felt the heat in the air, the anger as a tangible thing. He felt himself starting to sway from the overwhelming sensations.
Satine pulled him back with steady hands. She needs to be kept safe, Obi-Wan thought and took a deep breath. Focus.
»Master!,« he shouted over the noise, reaching for his Master with the Force. They were too exposed here, couldn’t protect Satine properly. They needed better cover. Qui-Gon understood and they started edging towards a low-hanging ledge near them, eager for the relief the cover would provide.
Their enemies crowded them as they realised what they were trying to do, unrelenting waves of attacks of blaster shots. Obi-Wan feared that they wouldn’t make it, that a stray shot would hit Satine and all their efforts would be for nothing.
Despite Obi-Wan’s doubts, they reached the cover and as soon as Satine slid into relative safety, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan created a ruthlessly efficient shield. One by one they dispatched of the Death Watch and soon the Mandalorians started making their retreat.
Ducking out from the cover, Satine threw an small electro-proton bomb at the last attacker who was still firing at them.
The jetpack sputtered from the pulse and died. The Death Watch warrior vaulted backwards and started falling.
»Hut’uun! You're no Mand'alor,« the woman shouted as one of her team-mates helped her away, leaving a trail of smoke behind the duo. »You're a disgrace to the title!«
»How dare they!,« Satine snarled and tossed the rest of the bombs aside with disgust. She let loose an angry string of Mando’a expletives and Obi-Wan stepped back, giving the angry woman space.
»Calling me hut’uun when they’re not even showing their clan symbols!,« Satine paced the small path.
She stopped in front of Obi-Wan and he was taken aback by the fury in her eyes. »They called me coward, betrayer! Said that they wouldn’t let me destroy the Mando’ade, that they’d burn Mandalore to the ground before letting me rule!«
Obi-Wan didn’t know how to reply and Satine turned away from him sharply.
Satine fumed for hours. Even after they’d called for an extraction, after they’d been transported to another anonymous moon, there was a simmering rage within her that Obi-Wan hadn’t seen before and he didn’t know how to help.
She didn’t fall asleep that night. Obi-Wan heard her uneven breathing, listened to it for hours, heard her tossing and turning. Finally he got up and quietly went to sit on the edge of her bed. She stopped breathing then, for a long moment, before letting out a small chuckle.
»Sorry,« she said quietly. »I didn’t mean to keep you up.«
»Sleep,« Obi-Wan whispered to her and took her hand.
He’d only meant to sit with her for a few minutes, but when he woke up hours later, she was sound asleep next to him.
Obi-Wan saw all of her in those days, and the more he saw, the more he wanted.
He saw the young woman, far from home, in constant danger and the way it weighed her down. He saw the politician when she met their allies, full of determination and willpower, saw the sway she held over them, the way they listened to her passionate words of peace.
He saw the fire burning in her eyes when Death Watch or their hired guns caught up with them, saw how she defended herself though the pacifist in her loathed it.
He would watch her when she wasn’t looking. Watch how her pale hair fell into her eyes when she worked and the way she smiled a soft smile whenever it rained, and one early morning Obi-Wan realised that this wasn’t a crush.
This was nothing like he’d felt for Siri and he began to fear that it wouldn’t go away.
The Wars permeated everything. Everywhere they went was fraught with death and loss.
Most Mandalorians weren’t afraid to express their feelings towards Satine when they met her. Some adored her, but others would spit at her feet and call her traitor. With soft hands and genuine words she managed to calm them, to make them lay down their weapons and break bread with her. Obi-Wan admired her for the way she handled her people.
»If they speak up,« she said when he mentioned it, »I can talk to them. Convince them otherwise. No matter how angry they are. It’s the one who won’t speak to me I fear.«
It broke Satine’s heart the first time she realised how deep Death Watch’s corruption had spread.
She’d been right to be cautious.
All three of them had been on guard. The city was too quiet, even the air wasn’t moving and the hairs on Obi-Wan’s arms stood on end.
A young man had caught her eye, had made her stop in her tracks.
They thought that they were in a friendly sector, one of Satine’s sworn allies had guaranteed them safe passage. It was supposed to be a small spot of relief after more than half a year on the run. The man had welcomed them to the small moon himself with a wide smile and promises of peace.
Obi-Wan looked around. All the windows were shuttered or empty . Wrong, wrong, wrong, every fibre in his being screamed at him.
»Mandalore will never be part of the Republic,« the teen said and Obi-Wan saw the fanatical fire in his eyes as he revealed a switch in his hands.
Obi-Wan didn’t wait to see him trigger the bomb before turning to shield Satine, and neither did Qui-Gon as he force-pushed it in the opposite direction.
The explosion sent them flying and Obi-Wan heard nothing but ringing in his ears. His back felt raw and hot and he could smell burnt hair and skin. None of it mattered unless — he felt Satine cough beneath him and breathed a sigh of relief.
They stumbled away from the wreckage and they ran until they found a defensible shack burrowed away in a small forest.
She cried that night, quiet, grief-filled tears that echoed inside of Obi-Wan. It was wrong, and he hated that anyone could make her feel that way.
Obi-Wan climbed into her bed and held her as she cried.
They were even more careful from then on. Even the smallest village wasn't safe, even the most innocent child could betray them.
The Death Watch had eyes everywhere.
Satine sat in the shack the day after at a makeshift desk. She was writing a letter her sister while the two Jedi meditated, an exercise they rarely had time to practice these days. Suddenly she stopped, and Obi-Wan was pulled out of his trance. He looked over, instantly searching for the cause of the change.
She lowered her hand slowly as she realised what the young man had said the day before.
»They think I want Mandalore to join the Republic.« With wild eyes she looked at Qui-Gon. »We have to send messages to my loyalists. They must be warned of these rumours.«
Qui-Gon nodded and withdrew a communicator. »It’s worth the risk. I’ll make contact.«
»Why is joining the Republic a bad thing?,« Obi-Wan asked after Qui-Gon left the room.
»It just is, Obi-Wan,« Satine huffed in exasperation, clearly low on patience.
»But why? Not joining the Republic is foolish,« Obi-Wan said. Logically he knew that this was not the time or place for this argument, but adrenaline coursed through his body. Letting off steam, even through arguing, felt good.
»Surely you must've been taught about the Great Excision?,« Satine asked and sent a glare towards Obi-Wan as she packed few belongings. »The relationship between the Jedi and the Mandalorians is far from simple. Your Republic lay waste to Mandalore or have you forgotten?«
»But the Excision was hundreds of years ago,« Obi-Wan said. »Blaming the Republic for the actions of the long dead is hardly fair.«
»Some among your Order are long lived,« Satine said cooly. »Your Master Yoda was counted among the Jedi at the time of the Dral’Han. Many of the Senate species grow to be older still. If they’re not responsible, who is?«
Obi-Wan fidgeted with his sleeve.
»We Mandalorians have long memories, Obi-Wan,« Satine said bitterly. »Maybe one day we will stand united and join the Republic, but for now we can’t even agree on a common philosophy.«
She hoisted her bag onto her shoulders and her expression softened. »Few Mandalorians are as friendly towards the Republic as I am,« she said and touched Obi-Wan’s arm. »Do not doubt my affections.«
The first time they kissed, Obi-Wan thought that this was the end of the line.
Two bounty hunters had caught up with them, and Obi-Wan saw no way out. They were trapped. These two were good. Too good.
Qui-Gon had gone back inside in a final, desperate attempt to dispatch the would-be assassins. The noise was terrible, and Satine clutched at Obi-Wan’s robes.
He felt her tremble against him, and there was no thought before he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Her lips were soft and pliant and she smelled of home.
Satine looked up at him with wonder in her eyes. »Obi-Wan…,« she said and touched his face with a gentle hand. She leaned in again and his heart leaped.
Just as his lips grazed hers again, Qui-Gon stumbled into the small space, bruised and bloodied, and Obi-Wan was jolted back to the present.
Wanting to be a Jedi was all Obi-Wan had ever considered. It burned within him, the desire to stand among the members of the Council, to stand as symbol of justice and protection for the Republic. It would be a righteous, good life, he knew. Serving the people of the Republic was a noble goal and one he would gladly give his life for.
But… Satine made him wonder if maybe there was more to life than that of the Jedi.
»Do you ever want to just run away?,« Obi-Wan asked one night as he looked out the window at the endless stars above them.
They were on Concord Dawn, hiding in a simple hut. It was a dull place, nothing but dusty fields and craggy mountains as far as the eye could see. They’d been here for a week now, far longer than either of them had wanted to and the only other creatures they’d seen had been harvest droids.
They were all getting restless.
»Leave Mandalore,« he said earnestly and sat down next to Satine. »The entire sector, I mean. Set a course through the stars and just disappear?«
»Never,« Satine said with conviction, her words resounding through the empty hut. The night was quiet and the smell of dried grain flowed through the window. Qui-Gon had left hours earlier to scout the area.
»Really? Not even when your own people come to murder you?«
Satine shook her head. »My people love me. There's always going to be opposition, but I refuse to let them dictate my life.« She got a faraway look in her eyes as she stared into the small fireplace. »One day… One day Mandalore will become great again. It’s worth whatever sacrifice I have to make.«
»Do you?« Satine asked after a while. »Want to run away?«
Obi-Wan shrugged. »I'm a Jedi. It’s my duty to stay, to be the protector.« He hesitated. »Still... Sometimes I want to be free of it all, to just be me and not a Jedi. To follow my heart instead of my head.«
He wasn't sure she understood, understood what he was trying to say. Obi-Wan was brave, but saying the words out loud was beyond him. Ask me to stay, he screamed through the Force instead. Ask me and I'm yours!
She couldn’t hear him, he knew, and he hated himself for not daring to speak the words aloud.
Satine chuckled and took his hand. Her skin was soft and smooth and he wished he could hold on forever. »My dear Obi-Wan, you’re a Jedi through and through. Just as I cannot be anything but a Mandalorian, you can’t be anything but a Jedi.«
You're wrong, he thought bitterly but held his tongue, for you, I could be anything.
Satine leaned her head on his shoulder. »I want to go home. Be with my people instead of hiding away all the time. I'm tired, Obi-Wan.«
Obi-Wan just nodded and wrapped his arm around her. »You will,« he whispered and kissed her hair. These stolen moments would have to be enough, even if the want for more ached within him.
The bounty hunters kept coming. Death Watch continued to sow discord between the clans and fed the anger between them.
The trio kept running. Hiding. Scrambling to stay one step ahead.
Despite the danger, Satine was relentless in her work. She dragged the two Jedi to dangerous meeting after dangerous meeting, insistent on finding allies and turning the tide of the war.
»We’re in the middle of a war,« she would snarl at Obi-Wan whenever he called her a fool, a dreamer who took unnecessary risks. »Millions of Mandalorians are dying!«
»Precisely! It’s too dangerous here, we should go to the Core. To the Temple, it’ll be safe there!,« Obi-Wan said, tired to the bone of hiding, of being scared for Satine’s safety.
Satine huffed. »To you I am Satine Kryze, the poor Duchess in need of protection. To them I must be Mand’alor of the New Mandalorians, Mandalore the Reformer! Do you think my people will ever accept me as such if I hide in the Jedi Temple while our world is burning?,« Satine shook her head and Obi-Wan relented, tired with the discussion.
Satine was right, even if Obi-Wan hated it. He wanted to take her someplace safe, politics be damned, but her place was here.
He was impressed to see that it worked. Slowly, but surely, one by one, she won over the warlords.
Obi-Wan shuddered every time they walked into a hostile Mandalorian stronghold and Satine stood before their enemy, armed only with words of peace and pacifism. A new era for all Mandalorians, she promised.
»Listen to me,« she said time and time again, »listen so that we might end this pointless war.«
They did, one after the other, and finally, finally, the Great Clan Wars came to an end.
The two Jedi had been summoned to the throne room. Their mission had been a success, the ruler of Mandalore was safe and no longer in need their protection. The Jedi Council had other uses for a Master and a Padawan who had been gone for too long.
Obi-Wan had quietly dreaded this moment since the final peace treaty had been signed a few weeks prior.
Satine sat on the throne in Sundari in a long silken dress, surrounded by endless lines of Mandalorians. Obi-Wan recognised the clan-markings on their armour, knew that some of these men and woman had fought them only months earlier. Now they stood at the foot of the Duchess and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but fear for her safety.
Obi-Wan hardly recognised her beneath the mask she wore. She was cold now, with steel in her back and he saw only the barest semblance of a smile on her face.
It was strange, seeing her like this. Obi-Wan had grown used to her careless smile, her laughter when he said something foolish and the way her brows would draw together in anger or frustration. She had carried her heart on her sleeve and even when they’d disagreed, she’d never hidden herself from him.
Now there was no trace of the Satine he knew, Obi-Wan could only see the Duchess of Mandalore.
Obi-Wan’s heart ached with how much he missed her already.
»Mandalore thanks you for your service, Master Jedi,« the Duchess said to Qui-Gon. »We have laid down our arms and now stand united as one people. Tell the Republic that their aid will not soon be forgotten.«
Qui-Gon bowed. »It was our honour, my Lady. Ret'urcye mhi, Mand’alor.«
He turned to leave and Obi-Wan quickly followed suit. They walked through the quiet throne room and Obi-Wan shuddered as countless Mandalorian helmets turned to watch them leave.
Obi-Wan paused at the door and cast one final look at the young woman sitting on the throne. She looked so alone up there, so fragile. This was her choice, he knew. She was born to carry this burden, to carry the Mandalorians into a new era, but the thought of her taking on the gargantuan task alone… Obi-Wan hesitated for an instant, wavering on the cusp of a different choice, a different future.
He bit his lip as he turned and walked away.
»You have a responsibility, Obi-Wan,« Qui-Gon said. They were in hyperspace, en route towards Coruscant. The Jedi Master looked at Obi-Wan and his heart sank. »Not only to the Jedi, Qui-Gon continued, »but to yourself as well.«
Obi-Wan looked at his Master in confusion. »Master…?«
Qui-Gon sighed. »You’re not the first Padawan this has happened to, you know. Being a Jedi and falling in love is difficult, but not uncommon. « Obi-Wan felt his cheeks flush bright red as Qui-Gon locked eyes with him.
»Master, I don’t…,« he started, but Qui-Gon lifted his hand and Obi-Wan fell quiet and stared at the ground. He’d rather face another Death Watch squad than have this conversation, but he knew how stubborn his Master could be.
»The Council will advice you ignore you feelings, but you need to face this. You have a choice to make, Padawan, and you should not make it lightly.«
Obi-Wan continued staring at the durasteel floor. »I’m a Jedi, Master. I made my choice years ago,« he said, though the words tasted like a lie.
Qui-Gon sighed. »The path of a Jedi isn’t easy, Obi-Wan. It comes with a great deal of sacrifice.«
Silence fell between them and they journeyed towards Coruscant without further words.
4 years later
»News you have?,« Yoda asked in the meditation chamber. »Usually too busy you are, to meditate with me. A reason for you to call me, you have.«
»My mission to Mandalore… My Padawan was conflicted in the time afterwards. More prone to anger. He had grown… close with the Duchess. He chose to stay with the Jedi, Master,« Qui-Gon said to Yoda. The quiet meditation chamber was a welcome change from their usual field missions. »But I’m not sure if he should have.«
»His own, his mind is,« the Master said with drooping ears. »Control the paths of our Padawans, we cannot.«
They sat together for a while, letting past regrets and hurts wash over them. The Force carried the shared loss of Dooku and Xanatos between them as it had done a thousand times before. Too many Jedi understood the grief of losing a Master, a Padawan. It was easier to bear together.
»Why leave the Jedi, should your Padawan? Something else you know?« Yoda inquired, softly breaking the silence.
»I have a source on Mandalore,« Qui-Gon said. »She says that The Duchess has a secret child. A boy, disguised as her nephew. The… timeline matches.«
Yoda pondered the new information for a minute, closing his eyes. »A difficult situation, this is,« the Jedi opened his eyes and Qui-Gon was struck again by the small Master’s piercing eyes. »Tell Obi-Wan, you should not. Until more we know, only hurt him this can.«
Qui-Gon shook his head. »I don’t like this, Master. Not telling him feel dishonest.«
»Hear what the Duchess says, we must. Much harm, a union between a Mandalorian and a Jedi could bring, if handled carelessly.«
Quiet filled the room and both the Masters leaned into the meditative state again.
»In time,« Yoda said much later, »the Padawan will learn. In his future, much strife do I see. Burden him with this, you should not.«
»Very well,« Qui-Gon sighed. »I’ll contact the Duchess about this matter before talking to Obi-Wan.«
»More of this we will speak later. For now, to Naboo you must go,« Yoda said. »A meeting you have, negotiating peace between the Trade Federation and the Queen of Naboo. Imperative, this mission is.«
Qui-Gon smiled and stood up. »I’ll do my best to keep negotiations civil, my friend.«