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Chapter Text

In the midst of carrying a child off the battlefield, Obi-Wan immersed himself in the Force and called for help.  The Force amplified his call, reaching across time… space… universes… and pulled.

"We are House Atreides. There is no call we do not answer. There is no faith that we betray."

Duke Leto stood on the bridge of his ship as he beheld the planet Arrakis for the first time.  The sand-gold world glittered as shifting sand-clouds cast their dappled patterns as they roared across the harsh unforgiving landscape.  The two moons were in a low orbit with a third just emerging on a high elliptical orbit. 

The Duke narrowed his eyes, “Paul”

“Yes, father?”

“Please describe Arrakis to me.”

“Arrakis is a desert planet containing the most valuable substance in the universe, spice melange.  The cities of Arrakis are located behind the shield wall, a massive rock formation-”  Paul abruptly cut off when his father lifted his hand.

“How many moons does Arrakis have?”

“Two.” Paul looked at his father puzzled before glancing back out at Arrakis and the three moons visible there.  “Wait, that’s not right.”

“Something’s off and I’m not sure what it is.” Duke Leto studied the three moons.  Two matched with what he remembered studying while the third moon was green and flecked with blue.  Water.  Securing that would ease the logistical nightmare and make them far less vulnerable to the political maneuverings that might have an impact on the amount of supplies shipped to Arrakis. 

The door hissed open and Gurney Halleck strode in.  “My lord.  Two communications for your immediate attention.” 

Duke Leto nodded. “One from Thufir Hawat?”

“Yes, my Lord. His message reads, New moon in orbit around Arrakis as of 16:32 Imperial Standard Time.  Long range scans are being initiated and an advance intelligence team  is preparing to launch. ”

Duke Leto glanced at the clock, 16:42 IST. “The plot thickens. The second message?”

“Comes from the moon directly. Master Yoda, the Young have been pushed back and I fear that we shall be slaughtered without assistance.  While I have made my decision to stay and die on this world if necessary, the children fighting alongside me deserve a chance at life and peace. Please…help us.”

Paul frowned, “He commands children to fight?”

Gurney glanced at the transcription in his hands, “I heard the message and he sounds young himself.”

Duke Leto turned back towards the third moon.  “Can you hail the moon?”

“Yes, my lord.” Gurney stepped towards the communication array in the flagship. 

Obi-Wan sat inside the sewer tunnel, the fresh outside air fading into the familiar sewer stink. He had nearly lost one of the scouts today, a five year girl who could play hopscotch through the minefields with ease, but had lost one of her braids when an Elder’s blaster bolt had nearly taken her head off.  Shaking, he wondered about the warmth that had flooded him when he called on the Force for help.  He had tried to call Master Yoda for help, but his call went unanswered.  His comlink began pulsing and he activated it.  No hologram sprang to life instead a new voice, filled with authority, spoke.  “Unknown moon, this is Gurney Halleck of House Atreides, please respond.”

“This is the commlink of General Obi-Wan Kenobi, I’m on the planet of Melida/Daan.” 

“Melida/Daan?”

“A small planet in the Outer Rim.” 

“Acknowledged.  What is the political situation on the ground? Who is Master Yoda and why does he need to send help?”

Obi-Wan sighed.  “I’m one of three leaders of the Young, the oldest in our faction, General Nield, is fifteen while General Cerasi is my age, 14.  The Young are the children of the other two factions, the Melida and the Daan.  Both of them have been at war for generations and have temporarily aligned to eliminate us.”

“Eliminate?”

“If we’re lucky, we’ll die.  If not, they drag us to their factories and enslave us, force us to continue this pointless war.” 

“If the Melida and the Daan are out of the picture, the Young would be the primary governing body?”

“By default, yes.”

“Would the Young be willing to negotiate a treaty with House Atreides?”

“Depending on the terms, yes, we would certainly be interested.”

“Are the major factions centered around the ring city on the upper hemisphere?”

“Yes.”

“Take shelter.  Gurney Halleck out.”

Gurney stepped away from the radio, “They’re killing children. Their own children.”

Duke Leto frowned.  “Take two legions and a division of the House Guard.” Gurney saluted and stated to walk away before Leto continued, “And, Gurney?”

Gurney frowned and turned back.

“By Imperial law, any foe against a Great House receives one chance to surrender. I received much praise in the Landsraad for allowing my opponents three opportunities for surrender.” The men locked eyes and Leto spoke with iron in his voice. “We follow Imperial law today.”

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan stepped out of the sewers with Cerasi and Nield and stared at the street.  Normally a dusty brown, the streets were a muddy red as blood ebbed through the oozing muck.  He squelched through the street and stared at the gray-armored soldiers moving through the streets. Three of them moved through the street purposefully towards the Young leaders.

The gray-armored soldiers stopped, came to attention, and the lead soldier asked, “Generals Obi-Wan, Nield, and Cerasi?”

The three nodded and the soldiers’ swords swept up to their left shoulders, points held vertically before being twisted horizontally in front of their faces. “This way, Generals.”

They walked together past the bodies being dragged out of the streets.  Nield’s face was stoic while Cerasi looked grieved and Obi-Wan felt for both of his friends.  This was their home world and their former tribes lying in the street.  A lone male melancholy voice sounded from the square ahead interrupting his thoughts. 

“ Home is behind; The world ahead; And there are many paths to tread; Through shadow; To the edge of night; Until the stars are all alight ”

They entered the square and saw a lone bearded figure in the gray armor with his sword planted upright through a pile of corpses. Two of the five year old scouts that had been captured and chained in the square as bait by the Melida or the Daan sat in the soldier’s lap as he continued singing to them, gentle fingers carding through the girl’s matted hair.  “ Mist and shadow; Cloud and shade; All shall fade; All shall fade…” 

As the last word’s echoes faded away, the soldier jerked his head and two other soldiers peeled themselves off the wall and lifted the kids off of his lap.  The boy, sound asleep, went peacefully, but the girl whimpered and clung to the singing soldier’s armor.  He slid his arm around her, hefted her to a more comfortable carrying position, and strode across the plaza to them.  “Greetings, generals. My name is Gurney Halleck, Warmaster for House Atreides.”

Obi-Wan shook off his shock first, “We are well-met, Warmaster Halleck.  On behalf of General Nield, General Cerasi,” gesturing to them as he introduced them, “and myself, General Obi-Wan Kenobi, we welcome you to Melida/Daan.”

They stood in silence for a minute before Cerasi nudged Nield and they all stared at the gold planet that was visible in the sky behind them.

Gurney followed their eyes, “That is the fief of House Atreides, the planet Arrakis as decreed by his royal highness, Shaddom IV.”

Nield spit on the ground. “The Chancellor can kiss my a- oof .”

Cerasi retracted her elbow, “My apologies. We’ve never had a planet in orbit, but Nield is correct.  Why should we care about the decrees of the Chancellor when he has done nothing for us?”

“What Chancellor? I speak of his Imperial majesty, the Padishah Emperor Shaddom IV.”

Cerasi and Nield both swung to Obi-Wan.  “The Republic is still headed by Supreme Chancellor Valorum as far as I know unless there’s been a significant change in three months.” 

Gurney narrowed his eyes before shaking his head slightly and smiling.  “Well, no matter, let’s hammer out a preliminary agreement while Duke Leto settles in on Arrakis.”

Duke Leto stood on the balcony and breathed in the dry air as he studied his city.  The obvious priority was to get the spice flowing, but the presence of water on the world above them would be an incredible boon with trading with the Fremen.   

The doors hissed open and Gurney Halleck strode in with a little girl hanging off his armor.

Duke Leto smiled as Gurney laid her on the couch, handed her a dagger, and joined him on the balcony. “My friend, I didn’t think you would return with a daughter.”

Gurney’s lips quirked, but the smile never reached his eyes, “She was being held in the center of the plaza in a cage to lure the little children out of hiding.”

Duke Leto’s eyes hardened. “How many prisoners?”
Gurney blew out a breath. “None.  The soldiers weren’t feeling particularly merciful to child killers and they were fanatics who went down fighting.” 

Duke Leto shrugged, “So be it. The Young?”

“Seem eager to make an alliance, yet strangely nervous about my men.”

Duke Leto nodded, “They’re traumatized children who have no concept of safe adults since even their own parents turned against them.” He turned back staring at the world and drummed his fingers on the balcony railing.  “We need the alliance and the water.. Perhaps I’ll send Paul to negotiate in my stead, they may respond better to him than to an adult ambassador.  Will you go with him as an advisor?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Duke Leto nodded, but Gurney stood unmoving.  “There’s more?”

“Yes, my lord.” Gurney pursed his lips considering his next words and Duke Leto turned back with a questioning glance.  “My lord, I believe we entered an alternate dimension or universe.”

Duke Leto’s eyebrow climbed rapidly, “Explain.”

“The armed forces of the world were primitive, armed with guns and handheld laz guns.  The laz guns shot bolts of lasers that exploded on our shields.  We had a couple of broken bones, the laz bolts seem to have a negative effect on the shields.  While they held, the shields buckled inwards and caused injury.  We’ll have to conduct more extensive tests.”

“That’s unusual.  Not necessarily impossible, but I take it there’s more?”

Gurney nodded, “While most of the Young were ignorant of galactic affairs, General Kenobi is a recent arrival to the world.  He was a member of a mystical order known as the Jedi before he left to defend the children. His teacher abandoned him and apparently this master yoda figure is both in the kid’s line and the grandmaster of the order.”

“That doesn’t speak well of the order.”

“General Kenobi did point out it was three days by fast ship to the homeworld of the Jedi, his communicator may not have had the range.  More importantly, the Jedi are connected with interstellar politics and he said that the galaxy is governed by a Republic whose Senate is based on Coruscant.  He stated that the new Supreme Chancellor Finis Valorum was recently elected based on promises he made to reform  and eliminate the corruption in the Senate.”

“Our priorities remain the same, no matter where in time and space we are. We uphold our oaths and hold Arrakis in the name of the Emperor and House Atreides.”

Chapter Text

Paul walked off the ship and glanced around the ruins of the destroyed city.  Gurney Halleck and Jessica followed as they made their way to the city hall.  The three young generals stood as they entered. 

Paul introduced himself and Jessica before settling down at the table.

Obi-Wan sighed as they stood. The meeting hadn’t gone as well as they hoped.  House Atreides was willing to supply food, money, and resources to the beleaguered Melida-Daan, but as Melida-Daan was in orbit around Arrakis, Duke Leto considered it as part of his fief and demanded recognition of this fact.  Nield had bristled at Paul when Paul had stated this and the argument had raged for an hour before Cerasi had suggested a break. Obi-Wan had stepped outside and spotted Jessica admiring one of the small blue flowers growing from a crack in the wall. 

She turned and glanced at him. “Have you had training from the Bene Gesserit?”

“My lady?”

“You glow as polished by Bene Gesserit, but there is something different about it.” 

Obi-Wan reached into the Force and towards Jessica. Her mental shields were tough, but he could sense the gleaming of a concealed sensitivity to the Force. “You’re force-sensitive, my lady?”

Jessica shrugged, “I don’t know what you mean by the Force.”

Obi-Wan began talking about the Force from his half-remember Force Theories 101 class while Jessica listened attentively. 

The afternoon had been equally fruitless and Paul had wisely cut the negotiations short after an hour of circular conversation.  Jessica gestured to Obi-Wan, the most willing of the three to see the point of House Atreides. He stepped over and Jessica smiled, “Will you honor me with a walk, General Kenobi?”

“It would be my honor to escort you, my lady.” His fingers danced as he signaled to Nield and Cerasi before walking out with her. 

“So, Nield seems like a stubborn one.” Jessica said lightly, “Although I imagine that was valuable during the war.”

Obi-Wan nodded, “Very much so. I hope you don’t take offense to his stubbornness to swear fealty to a faction of adults.” 

“The issue is the lack of trust in adults?” 

“Very much so, they have torn this world apart for generations.” 

“Would he accept a different path?” 

Obi-Wan shrugged, “I’m not sure. What do you have in mind?”

Jessica considered, “Duke Leto is concerned with maintaining the interest of House Atreides, he does not wish to supplant local rule so long as they follow House Atreides in fealty. Nield strikes me as one loyal to his promises, but he will not swear the oath. What if a member of House Atreides was a member of the ruling council?” 

“Nield won’t accept a stranger.” 

“He might not have to. I have full authority to welcome anyone I wish into House Atreides proper through adoption.”

Obi-Wan stopped in astonishment and Jessica turned to him before continuing.  “What if I adopted you? You are committed to the well-being of this planet and second sons are usually granted a small piece of the fief to govern. I adopt you into the Duke’s house and he grants you governance of Melida/Daan. You continue governance however you wish and Nield trusts you.”

“The only issue I see with that is that’s not the majority. Would your Duke accept a minority rulership?”

“No, but he would accept a marriage alliance between his House and one of the leaders of Melida/daan.” 

“You have someone for Nield?”

“I was thinking you and Cerasi. You’re both close and are committed to this world.”

Obi-Wan’s jaw dropped. “We’re 14? We can’t get married yet.”

Jessica waved her hand, “The engagement would suit our purposes perfectly. What is the age of marriage here?” 

“Eighteen.”

“So a four year engagement and then the formal ceremony.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth moved soundlessly.

Jessica smiled at him, “Go back and see if Cerasi and Nield will accept this.

Obi-Wan walked into the old presidential palace. The young were focusing on shoring up a single building to share rather than disperse among the many destroyed homes in the city. Greeting the children as he passed, he walked into the meeting room that Nield and Cerasi used as their headquarters. Cerasi smiled at Obi-Wan, “Is she willing to budge on the oath of fealty?” 

“Kind of. She presented a counter-proposal to us.”

Nield snorted. “This is our world and if they don’t like it, they can -”

Cerasi chopped her hand down, “We need their food, medicine, and development help, but we cannot surrender control of our planet to adults.  What was her offer?”

“Adoption.  She recognized that I wasn’t a native to the planet and offered to adopt me and then I would be one of the planetary leaders in our triarchy.  

Nield frowned, “You’re one of us now.”

“True, but I’ve always been different. We both know I’m not from this world, but if I can use that to my advantage and get us the help we need, why not?”

Nield nodded. “I’m in agreement, let’s do it.”

“There’s one more catch.”

Cerasi glanced at Nield, “House Atreides wouldn’t accept a minority leadership. Are they asking to install another one of their members on our Triarchy?”

“No…”

“Can’t be that bad, Obi-Wan. Spit it out.” Nield chuckled.

Obi-Wan sighed, “They want me to marry Cerasi.  That’ll tie two of the Triarchy to House Atreides by adoption and marriage; Duke Leto thinks that’s enough to be considered loyal to his house.”

Cerasi blushed, “We’re fourteen!” 

“The engagement can last four years, but House Atreides would begin helping immediately.”

Nield glanced back and forth at them. “Are you sure? We fought one war, we-”

“No.” Cerasi’s voice was like beskar, “That is not an option.  We could survive against the Elders, but House Atreides would slaughter us. I think this is the best option. We remain in control of the world without answering to an adult on planet and we get the aid we need.”

Obi-Wan nodded, “I’ll let Jessica know we’ve decided.”

“Do you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, swear to uphold the honor of House Atreides?”

“I do swear.” 

“Do you come here freely, forsaking all previous loyalties and oaths.” 

“I do.”

“Do you come here seeking adoption for wealth and power?”

“I come here because I was asked and I answer the call of duty and honor.”

“Do you accept Melida/Daan to hold in joint trust with the native governing bodies and govern in the name of House Atreides, seeking the common good of all?”

“I do swear.”

Duke Leto and Jessica both pricked their arms and let their blood run into the bowl of water set before them.  Lifting the dagger, Duke Leto presented it to Obi-Wan, saying “Take this dagger and kill the man you were.”

Obi-Wan bared his chest and pricked the dagger ever so carefully into the skin above his heart, tilting the dagger so the blood filled the narrow groove in the blade before passing it back to Duke Leto. 

Duke Leto lifted the dagger, “The man known as Obi-Wan Kenobi is dead.” He poured the blood off the dagger into the bowl of blood and water he and Jessica had prepared.  “Through blood and water are men brought into the world, so too will blood and water bring forth a new member of House Atreides.” He and Jessica poured the bowl over Obi-Wan’s head. Duke Leto reached down and grabbed Obi-Wan’s hands as he spoke, “Rise and be recognized by all as Ben Atreides of House Atreides, my son.”

Chapter Text

Xanatos De Crion dropped out of lightspeed and his jaw dropped in astonishment at the desert planet glittering with swirling dust clouds with a huge ship floating overhead.  Two smaller blocky ships moved towards him and hailed him on an older radio frequency.

“Unidentified ship, please state your name and business.”

Xanatos toggled the communication array. “This is Lord Xanatos De Crion. I received a message from a Duke Leto Atreides about a meeting regarding mining here.”

“Proceed to Arrakeen, a landing beacon will guide you in.”

“Acknowledged.” Xanatos turned to his companion. “Take us down to the surface.”

“Statement: Of course, Master. Course set for the capital.”

Descending to the planet, Xanatos disembarked the ship alone and was met by an armored welcoming party armed with swords.

“Lord De Crion?”

Xanatos bowed, his black cloak swirling, “At your service.”

“Follow us, please.” 

They walked over to a winged craft, vaguely reminiscent of the dragonflies in the Room of a Thousand Fountains.  After they settled in, the wings blurred into motion and they lifted off towards the palace.

Once they arrived, Xanatos was shown into a room with an armored bearded man, sitting flanked by a woman in loose clothing, covering nearly head to toe, a young boy of about 16 or 17, and… “Obi-Wan Kenobi. I thought Master Jinn was staying at the temple.  You’re a long way from home.”

“It’s Ben Atreides now, Lord De Crion. I’ve left the order and have been adopted by Duke Leto Atreides.”

“Good for you. The Jedi don’t deserve you.” He turned to the Duke and bowed. “My apologies, Duke Atreides. Your son Ben used to be a padawan-brother of mine.” 

Duke Leto lifted an eyebrow, “Is that why you enslaved him?”

“Ah, it was nothing personal. Our master, Qui-Gon Jinn murdered my father and I needed bait. I would have let him go afterwards.” 

“Lie.” Jessica’s voice quietly echoed in the hall.

Xanatos blinked. “Excuse me?”

Duke Leto frowned, “Would you have let Obi-Wan go after getting your revenge on Qui-Gon?”

“I had no reason to hold him, I would have let him go after I got my revenge.”

Jessica twisted her hand, “There’s still a hint of a lie in there.”

Ben stepped forward, “Would you have remembered me?”

Xanatos glanced at the floor, “Possibly? Eventually. It may have been too late by then and that most likely wouldn’t have disturbed me.”

“Truth.”

Duke Leto nodded to Jessica and looked back to Xanatos, “Repeat the statement you made earlier, conditioning it upon if you remembered.”

“I bear no ill will against Obi-Wan Kenobi or Ben Atreides, my enslaving him was to stop him and Qui-Gon from investigating and to bait Qui-Gon into a trap. I would have released Obi-Wan from slavery, if I remembered I had him captive, after I secured my revenge on Qui-Gon Jinn.”

Jessica nodded and Duke Leto relaxed slightly. “Very well, Lord De Crion, I understand you run one of the galaxy’s largest mining operations?”

“Partially in control.  The Hutt clans hold a sizable investment stake.”

“Are the Hutts the reason for the slaves?” Ben asked. 

“Primarily, although I go along with it since it keeps costs down and it would infuriate Qui-Gon, does infuriate him, excuse me.”  

Jessica nodded in the background and Ben continued, “Would Offworld be willing to go slavery free or could you divest yourself and bring a chunk of the company here slavery-free?”

“OffWorld would not be willing to do that. I could divest and form a new mining company if the profits are high enough. What’s in it for me?”

Ben looked at Duke Leto and received a nod before continuing. “Duke Leto is prepared to grant you a ten-year exclusive mining license here on Arrakis, provided your company upheld the honor of House Atreides.  Furthermore, we’re offering you the chance to get a different sort of revenge on Qui-Gon. You’ll receive citizenship and a ducal pardon, start a new legitimate company, and have the opportunity to learn a new school of force theory and techniques.” 

Xanatos smiled lightly, “That sounds fascinating. What does Arrakis have that makes it so uniquely valuable?”

Duke Leto leaned forward, “This is the only planet to produce spice melange in the imperium.”

Xanatos blinked, “Come again?”

Ben chuckled. “The Force brought them here from a different universe and they’re the only planet to produce spice melange, a uniquely valuable substance in their galaxy. We’re still testing it in this galaxy, but the Force sings around it. It’s going to be valuable here.”

“So you want me to abandon the Hutts, begin a new life overseeing a dangerous mining operation of a substance of unknown value, and change my life of vengeance against Qui-Gon and the order by reforming my life based on the word of inter-universe travelers?” 

“That about sums it up.”

Xanatos considered for a few moments. “Deal.”

“Just like that?”

“I can spin off my resources easily enough and depart Offworld. If this venture doesn’t work out, Telos still supports the De Crion family and I’ll be able to rally and rebuild there. If it does, I’ll be quite wealthy and in possession of new force techniques and that alone will anger Qui-Gon immensely.” Xanatos smiled at Jessica, “Truth or lie?”

She smiled briefly, “Truth.”

Ben's lips peeled back in a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, “Well then, Lord Xanatos De Crion, welcome to Arrakis.”

Chapter Text

Xanatos strolled back to his ship and whistled up the ramp, “47! Time to do paperwork.”

“Heavy sarcasm: my favorite job, master.” The droid walked out of the shuttle, “Query: Can I lessen the amount of paperwork by shooting anybody that brings us some?” 

“Unfortunately not.” Xanatos turned, “Let’s-”

“Heresy!” The Atreides guards around him all drew their swords and shimmered as they dropped into combat poses.  Xanatos stepped close to HK-47 and drew his lightsaber while HK-47 produced two blaster pistols. 

One of the Atreides guards signed something and another one fell back, retreating to a wall-mounted communicator.

“Statement: It appears we’re in a stand-off, Master. Permission to start shooting meatbags?”

“Denied. Let’s wait and see.”

“Sarcasm: Just what I always want to do, Master.”

Ben Atreides leapt out of his starfighter, one of three surviving vessels that the Elders had, in his new black uniform, a sword sheathed at his side and a personal shield belt securing it. He walked across to Cerasi who smiled and greeted him, “Fiance.”

“Fiancee.” Ben echoed back. “Hard to believe. How’s Nield taking it?” 

She shook her head. “He’s disappointed, but at the same time, two of the Atreides landing ships have offloaded food and medical supplies plus help in finding mines.”

Three rapid explosions sounded and Ben and Cerasi exchanged panicked glances before running towards the rising plume of smoke. Reaching out with the Force, Ben felt the familiar fear, trauma, loss, but no fresh pain. Another two explosions sounded and the two skidded to a halt. A crowd of children had gathered much further back than usual, with three Atreides soldiers manning a rope line. An olive-green uniformed man under a parasol, Thufir Hawat, Ben remembered, stood casually giving orders. A few soldiers were out in the minefield walking in a formation that appeared random, but would cover the entire field without creating overlapping explosions.  Another explosion blossomed and the soldier’s shield gleamed through the smoke and dust.   Thufir Hawat gestured and the soldier came off the minefield trading out with one of the soldiers on the ropeline. 

“Your shields are at 100%?” Thufir asked. 

The soldier nodded in response and Thufir gestured for him to continue before turning to see Ben and Cerasi.  “My young generals!” He cocked his head and his eyes flicked up and down them before continuing, “You look concerned. What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Cerasi glared at the Mentat, “And they call you one of the smartest people on the planet?” Her snarl trailed off into near incoherent ramblings as she stalked over to the rope line of kids who were looking on the minefield nervously.

Thufir looked in Cerasi’s direction, “Is it not a sensible way to clear the mines?”

Ben sighed. “You know what each one of the explosions meant during the war?”  Thufir’s eyes widened, but Ben drove the knife home. “It meant a kid slipped up.  It meant our fighters scrambling against adults without the element of surprise. It meant a medic trying to patch a shattered kid together to get them off the field.  It meant that myself and the fellow Triarchs had to raid for medicine constantly.  That’s what the sound of the explosion means to us. This is efficient, but reminds the kids about our losses.”

Thufir bowed before signaling the soldiers to regroup.  “General, will you have enough time to warn the Young before we conduct the operations again in two days time?”

Ben nodded and Thufir Hawat saluted him before heading back to the gathering soldiers.

Paul watched the city blur below him as the three ‘thropters hummed towards the hanger.  Settling in, the Duke’s personal guard dismounted first and formed a protective barrier around Duke Leto and Paul.  

“Father, do you think it’s true that Lord Du Crion brought a thinking machine here to Arrakis?”

Duke Leto hummed, “Perhaps this galaxy is stranger than we thought.” 

“Should my new brother have mentioned thinking machines to us?”

“What do you think? Has he betrayed us?”

“No!”

“Then why hasn’t he or any of the Melida-Daan mentioned thinking machines to us?”

Paul considered, “Melida-Daan is torn apart by war, they might not have any thinking machines.”

“Very good, but that doesn’t justify Ben, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t.  He’s seen the wider galaxy and…” Paul trailed off, “They’re probably common here, like our shield technology?”

Duke Leto nodded, “And that’s the lesson for today. Never assume maliciousness where ignorance suffices.  Ben probably grew up in a culture where thinking machines are embedded into society, most likely replacing mentats and possibly the spacing guild since Lord Du Crion arrived in the small ship without a guild heighliner.”

Paul considered, “That’s odd.”

“To us.” 

With that, the group swung around the corner to see a standoff between guard detachment of Atreides and Lord Du Crion with a blazing laser sword standing next to a thinking machine, humanoid and sheathed in a bronze-gold coating.                                                                               

“Statement: Judging by the impressive facial hair and escort formation around him, the leader approaches.  Query: Permission to terminate him?”

“Do be silent.” Xanatos hissed to HK-47.  He deactivated his lightsaber and clipped it to his belt before dipping into a bow. Rising, he spread his arms, “Duke Leto, thank you for coming down. What seems to be the problem?”

The Duke gestured at HK-47, “That.”

Xanatos glanced at his droid, “Usually people get irritated at him after he starts talking, not before.  Is there a specific issue with him?”

“Thinking machines are forbidden in the imperium.”

“Query: All droids are banned? Statement: What a short-sighted meat-bag thing to do.”

Xanatos sighed, “My particular droid is a bit peculiar and has an alarming tendency to insult people.”

“Statement: The meat-bags wouldn’t be insulted if you let me shoot them, Master.” 

The young man stifled a laugh at Xanatos’ long-suffering expression.

Duke Leto glanced at HK-47, “Are thinking machines like this common in this galaxy?”

“Like this? Sarcastic murderous psychopaths? No, that’s much rarer. Most droids have a specified role in society.  Mine was a former assassin droid with protocol programming.”

Duke Leto considered. “Pending further review, thinking machines will not be permitted on Arrakis at present. General Ben Atreides may make his own determination regarding Melida/Daan.”

Xanatos bowed, “Of course, Your Grace. I will take HK-47 off-world immediately. By your leave?”

Duke Leto inclined his head and Xanatos turned, ushering HK-47 onto the ship. 

“Statement: This is discrimination.”

Chapter Text

Ben scowled at the sky and the rapidly descending shimmering dot.

Cerasi joined him and threaded her hand into his.  “I thought you suggested Xanatos.”

“I did for Arrakis.” Ben gestured with his hand. “He enslaved me, but he knows how to run a mining business.  I heard Clat'Ha saying that whenever he goes, Offworld’s profits increase by 40% at a minimum.  I sat in on a meeting where Duke Leto was discussing how to mine the spice and export it without support from CHAM? CHOAM?  Something like that.  I tried to get Clat'Ha in, but she’s fully committed to Bandomeer and I don’t know… the Force prompted me to suggest Xanatos. I don’t like him, but I don’t have to like him if his money can support our economy.” 

Cerasi frowned, but the wind from the repulsorlifts cut off anything else she might have been intending to say.  

The ramp descended and Xanatos strode down the ramp with his long black cloak swirling behind him.  “Little brother!” 

Ben twitched minutely and Cerasi scowled at the approaching figure.  She focused on thinking pleasant thoughts, of a united Melida/Daan, and the fact that no kids were going to die… at least until Xanatos was in range and she swung her booted foot with extreme prejudice into Xanatos’.... lightsaber.  He gasped in pain, doubling over and clutching himself as Cerasi leapt up, spinning to plant her knee in between Xanatos’ shoulders.  He crashed to the ground in an ungainly heap and she drew her knife and placed it alongside his neck.  HK-47 appeared at the top of the ramp and lifted his blaster pistol, but the door slammed shut in front of him when Ben instinctively slapped the hatch button with the force.

Cerasi growled, “Listen, sleemo , my fiance has scars because of you.  You don’t get to waltz into our world and little brother him.  Now he gets to say his piece and then you get to kark off back to Arrakis. Understand?”

Xanatos grunted an acknowledgement and Ben crouched by his face.

“I didn’t realize Cerasi would do this. Anyway, yes, you did hurt me, but I brought you here to help Arrakis.”

Xanatos sighed and heaved Cerasi off of him, catching her with the Force and guiding her safely to the ground.

“Look, I’m not going to lie to you, brother. You were a means to an end and I used you without hesitation just as Qui-Gon did.  We both discarded you when we achieved our goal or when we didn’t see any use from you.” 

Cerasi marched back to Ben’s side. “That’s it? Not even an apology?”

Xanatos jerked his chin in Ben’s direction, “See, I recognize his type from the Temple and especially with a Master like Qui-Gon.  He lives to serve and anything bad that happens to him in the process is just the cost of service.  What’s the point of apologizing to someone in that mindset?”

Cerasi’s eyes flashed with fury, “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? Tell me, did my younger brother consider it unfair to him that he was abandoned in a warzone at fourteen?  Did he go without sleep so that others could get rest? Give away his food even more than the other older kids so that the younger kids wouldn’t go hungry?  Place himself in the areas of greatest danger and fight through injuries? Refuse treatment so your medical supplies could go to higher priority cases?”

Cerasi’s face fell more and more as Xanatos’ clipped words fired point after point and Ben’s face was a blank mask of incomprehension at being called out like that. 

Xanatos shrugged, “So brother , I’m not going to apologize to you.  Words aren’t sufficient and you wouldn’t accept them anyway.  I promise you this, the children of this world will be protected and I’ll be creating a new mining company to bring peace and prosperity to your new family and worlds.”

Xanatos threw himself over the chair and glanced at the three kids sitting across from him.  “Ok, so what’s your main problem?”

Ben straightened up, “Now that House Atreides is solving the food, medical, and the repair crisis, our primary problem is that we only have one valuable export and that’s water to Arrakis.  We need to find another export to bring in additional income.”

“Precisely. Any thoughts on that?” The three shook their heads and Xanatos smiled, “That’s ok, I had an idea of my own.” He waved his hand and the door swung open to reveal a green insectoid species with its claws painted black.  “Meet Qlaern Hirf of the Ashern.”

Ben blinked, “Wait, aren’t the Ashern a terrorist group?” 

“To the Thyferran government maybe, but to the other Vratix, they are fighting against exploitation and poverty wages while the Thyferran government gets rich off the bacta the Vratix produce.  The Ashern want to see if Melida/Daan will be a suitable climate for growing alazhi and refining it into-”

“Bacta.” Ben breathed.  “Could we grow enough of it to attempt to break the bacta cartels? They control it very tightly and ruthless against any planet that attempts to break their monopoly.”

Qlaern Hirf spread his pincers and answered, “Who knows? The initial tests can be small and easily hidden.  With a master grower, the initial tests can be conducted in six months, less if we transport already grown plants.”

Xanatos nodded, “I have arranged for smuggling ships to transport Ashern master growers and plants at every stage of their life cycle here.  We can have a crop within two weeks if that meets your approval?” 

Ben glanced over to Nield and fingersigned something to him.  Nield responded and Cerasi and Ben both nodded.  “We’ll agree to a limited test and see what the results are before we agree to anything.”

One month later

Xanatos walked off his ship and the humidity hit him like a wall again. Almost refreshing after the cloying dryness of Arrakis where the mining was slowly starting to take shape.  While he had yet to meet Duncan Idaho, the Fremen were being extremely helpful vs. the horror stories he had heard from the experienced miners.  With the water moving very quickly from the new moon to Arrakis, Duke Leto had become known as the Water Duke and extremely popular with the Freman, many of whom had hoped to sit out the Atreides-Harkonnen conflict.  Now, Atreides ruled the world undisputed and other than a carefully cultivated smuggling network that Xanatos had quickly established, Arrakis had remained closed off from most of the galaxy.  

After a short walk from the VIP landing pad, Xanatos walked into the Presidential Palace of Melida/Daan.  Rather than the Presidential Palace, it should be called the Residential Palace with the number of children underfoot. Xanatos thought in exasperation.   HK-47 stomped down the halls and greeted Xanatos, “Greetings, Master.  Query: Can you send me on a mission? Statement: When not helping with paperwork, the Triarchy is having me play hide and seek with the children.”

“Better you than me.” 

“Statement: I’m not allowed to use any of my advanced sensors when seeking, just my photoreceptors and I have to look in at least three wrong places before finding the kids even if they are in a very obvious spot.”

“I’m glad they are utilizing your skills.”

“Statement: Haha, Master. You’re so funny.”

“Have fun with hide-’n-seek.” 

“Sarcasm: Oh, joy, I can’t wait to return to the game.

Xanatos walked into the briefing room with Nield, Cerasi, Ben, and Qlaern Hirf.  “Alright, let’s review.”

Qlaern Hirf gestured at a vial of bacta on the table.  “Grown from the transplanted plants.  Successful at every stage, so the Ashern are prepared to make a sizable commitment in exchange for guarantees.”  

Ben nodded, “On behalf of House Atreides, you will receive 40% of the profits, the Young Atreides government will receive 30%, 10% for the Ducal tax, while the remaining 20% will go into a trust fund mutually supervised by the Vratix and the Young Atreides specifically for infrastructure or other jointly approved projects from the sale of bacta.”

“Agreed.”

Xanatos applauded lightly.  “We’ll need massive stockpiles at first and have to be prepared for Thyferra to drop the price to cripple us.”

Nield smiled grimly, “Let them try.  We’ve lived through a real war and if they think they can intimidate us, we can play the long game as well.”

“The Ashern are fully committed to this planet as well. We have been offered land, fair contracts, and use of spaceships, a right that the Thyferran government has long denied us.”  

“It seems you’ve thought everything through.  Now we just need to build that stockpile and maybe begin to slip a little bacta out with my network.”

“That’s why you’re here. Qlaern Hirf will be happy to talk to you about the projected growth rate as well as payment for smuggling more Vratix and plants off Thyferra.”

Xanatos nodded acknowledgement of Ben’s statement.  “I also had a few experiments I like to run with you, Qlaern Hirf, if you could spare some time.”

“Of course.”

The Jedi Knight turned away from the smuggler and washed his hands in the nearby sink.  Drying his hands on a white towel, he tossed the red-stained cloth onto the ground.  He walked down to the cargo hold to collect his padawan and they left the ship, stepping over the insectoid corpses.  The Knight pulled out his communicator and a Basilik appeared before speaking, “Knight Kerj Shebs. Thyferra grows anxious.”

“We’ve tracked down one of the smugglers and he was persuaded to release the coordinates where he was bringing the Ashern.”

“I want results. Master Yoda says it would be a disaster if Thyferra stops producing bacta.”

“Of course, Master Krell. I will not fail.”

“See that you do not, my old padawan.”

Bant hurried through the medcenter and into the temple proper, reeling from the fight she had overheard between Qui-Gon Jinn and Tahl.  It was true, Obi-Wan had been left on that planet and not even a lightsaber to defend himself.  She ran into the library stifling sobs when suddenly her body froze involuntarily. She reached to break the force grip when the voice of Jocasta Nu hissed, “Don’t run in the…”  The harsh voice trailed off and the grip slackened as Jocasta appeared in front of her, “Initiate Eerin, my dear, whatever is the matter? Come, come to my office.” 

Bant found herself spilling the whole story to the head librarian who listened attentively and then suggested she find a movie from the comedy section and gather her creche mates for a movie night while Jocasta promised to see what she could do for Obi-Wan. 

After Bant left, Jocasta pulled out a commlink and tried to think who would be close enough to Melida/Daan, be able to help Obi-Wan, and not question the lack of a council mandate. She smiled grimly and tapped in a code she hadn’t used in a long time. She waited while the call wound its way through the depths of space until it clicked through. 

“Hello, Feemor here.”

Chapter Text

Feemor’s ship burrowed through hyperspace.  He had all the reports that Jocasta had sent him although Qui-Gon’s were utterly useless other than the section on Tahl’s injuries.  Cross-referencing the reports, he had a rough idea of where to start.  He pulled the lever to drop out of lightspeed and… well, that isn’t right.  Qui-Gon’s reports are sparse on details, but he wouldn’t miss a planet.

His communication array reported a wide-beam hail and he toggled, “-nowledge.  Unidentified ship, please acknowledge. Unidentified ship, please acknowledge.”

Feemor sighed and activated the commlink. “This is Jedi Knight Feemor, on a search and rescue mission to Melida/Daan.”

There was a brief pause before the array crackled, “Knight Feemor, please reroute to Arrakis and follow the transmitted coordinates.”  

Feemor started to follow the coordinates when he sensed another Jedi reaching out in the force.  Reaching back in acknowledgement, he used the Force to activate the encrypted channel embedded into the hardware of the Temple-issued commlink, “Knight Feemor.” 

A crisp voice responded, “Knight Kerj Shebs with my padawan. I heard your conversation with space traffic control, but your mission is subsumed into mine.  This mysterious planet is supporting terrorist activity.”

“My mission is to recover a missing padawan.”

“Do you want me to report to the Senate that you ignored a request to stop terrorists?”

“Did I? You have not given me any actionable data and seeing as I have a temple mandate with a clear objective, you cannot override my mission without presenting evidence of a clear and present threat.

Xanatos chuckled as he listened to Feemor and Kerj Shebs bicker on their way to the surface of the planet.  He and Ben were racing down to Arrakis themselves while they eavesdropped on the conversation.  

Ben glanced at Xanatos, “How did you know about the comm?” 

“It’s an embedded hardware channel that can only be accessed through force-sensitives and only temple comms are modified with it. It allows the Jedi to communicate secretly unless of course there is a former senior padawan with some dubiously ethically acquired equipment from the temple. “

Ben snorted at that as their ship flared for a landing in the palace’s newly constructed private landing pad.

Feemor disembarked, his robe rasping against his leather armor.  Perhaps it was an overreaction to being repudiated by Qui-Gon Jinn, but choosing to wear clean leather Jedi armor and being well-groomed was a direct contrast to his former master’s appearance. He cast a skeptical glance at the others disembarking as Kerj Shebs and his padawan had opted to go all out with their outfits, hand-woven silks with glittering armorweave cloaks. 

Armored figures with swords appeared and gestured for them to follow.

Xanatos stood in the room behind the throne with Ben, listening through the intercom while the knights introduced themselves and pleasantries were exchanged.

“Why are we back here again?”

“Dramatic effect.”

“Is it necessary?”

“If I’ve learned anything about politics and villainy, little brother, is that there is a very important distinction between the ordinary, forgettable, villains and supervillains.”

“And that is…”

Xanatos held up his hand, listening as Feemor made an impassioned plea to be permitted access to Melida/Daan to search for Obi-Wan.  “ Presentation! ” He opened the door and swept in with a swirl of his cape, bringing Ben with him into the throne room.

Feemor glanced to the left of the throne as the door swung open and two figures strode in.  His eyes skated over the uniformed red-headed teen and locked onto the flourishing black cape-clad figure.  “ You! ” He hissed and rested his hand on his lightsaber.

The man stopped in a swirl of his cape, “Elder brother.” 

The red-headed teen stopped, “Wait, he’s a linage brother too?”

Feemor narrowed his eyes, “Obi-Wan?”

“Not anymore, he’s Ben Atriedes now.” Xanatos said with a laugh. “And you’re our linage brother in more ways than one, aren’t you?  Qui-Gon repudiated you as well as me.” 

“The Council said there was some doubt as to whether Qui-Gon meant to repudiate me or not.”

Xanatos smirked, “There’s what the council says and what the Temple says and rumor has it you’re a washed-up reject of a knight.”

“That’s rich coming from the genuine reject who couldn’t even pass the Trials.”

“Of course it’s rich, you make far more on the outside than you do for the Temple.”

Before Feemor could retort to that, Kerj Shebs suddenly drew his lightsaber with his padawan following suit and Kerj bellowed, “XANATOS DU CRION! You are under arrest for crimes against the Republic.”

Xantos ignited his lightsaber while the House Atreides guards drew their swords, dropping into shimmering defensive poses.

Duke Leto stood. “Enough. Put those laser swords away.”

Xanatos inclined his head and deactivated his lightsaber.  Kerj narrowed his eyes, “You are harboring a criminal. Surrender or face Republic justice.”

Xanatos smiled lightly.  “Actually, I’ve never been convicted in a Republic court.  Bandomeer has an intra-system arrest warrant, but their request for a republic warrant was denied.  

Duke Leto nodded, “Besides, I’ve issued him a ducal pardon for his past actions.  You have no right to arrest him.”

“We are Jedi.  We answer only to the Force and the Temple.”  Kerj leveled his lightsaber at Xanatos. “I repeat for the last time, you are under arrest.  Failure to surrender will be met with lethal force.”

Feemor sensed the padawan side-stepping towards the exterior wall and stepped away from his fellow Jedi. “Kerj, we cannot arrive on an unknown planet and demand compliance from the legitimate government.”

“We are Jedi. We are above such mundane mortals. Xanatos, I de-”

A kyber crystal screamed in the Force and the Jedi spun to see a brief glimpse of the padawan with his lightsaber resting on the shining arm of a guard who had tried to disarm him before the two disappeared in a fireball.  Feemor threw up a Force shield as did Xanatos, Kerj, and Ben. The explosion sought the path of least resistance and blew out the wall to the outside.  

Ben snatched Xanatos’ lightsaber out of his hand while guards quickly ushered Duke Leto and his family away. 

Kerj Shebs snarled and started towards the dias. “You killed my padawan! Murderers, I’ll see you all die for this!”

Ben stepped forward and powered on his shield, “You willing to die for it?”

Kerj hesitated and Feemor stepped forward, “Kerj.  Power down your lightsaber.”

“They murdered my padawan!”

“We will have an investigation and there will be justice if it is due, but right now, there’s a dead guard and the leader of the planet is being evacuated. We do not want to make this situation worse.” 

Kerj growled, “I will not be humiliated.” He hurled his lightsaber at Ben, but Xanatos stepped forward and pulled the saber into his hand.

Examining the saber, Xanatos glanced up at the two Jedi. “That’s attempted murder of the Duke’s family and one of the rulers of Melida-Daan.  Kerj Shebs, you’re under arrest.”

“You have no authority to arrest a Jedi.”

“You’re right.” Ben stepped forward, “He doesn’t have the authority. I do.  Kerj Shebs, stand down. By the authority vested in me by Duke Leto Atreides, you are under arrest until the Temple can place you into their custody.”

“You can’t arrest a Jedi.”

Feemor shook his head, “That depends. You’ve threatened the ruling family with death and Ben has conditioned the arrest.  Planetary governments can arrest and hold Jedi provided that they are turned over to the Temple.” 

Ben gestured and several guards moved in.  Kerj vaulted over the guards and furiously attacked Ben who shrugged off the force-speeded punches with his shield.  Several guards hurled themselves onto Kerj before firing stunners at point-blank range. 

Feemor glanced at the guards now surrounding him. “You’ll need…”

“Force-dampening cuffs? We have them already, big brother.” Xanatos smirked.

“In that case, permission to withdraw and report to the Temple.”

“Permission granted.”

Feemor lifted off and waited until he was well-clear of the planet before activating the comm to Jocasta Nu.  “Good news, I found Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Alive?”

“Technically.”

“Technically?”

“He’s been adopted by the ruling family of Arrakis, a planet not in the Archival records nor the mission reports.”

“If an item does not appear in our records, it does not exist.” Jocasta said reflexively.

Feemor inclined his head. “And yet, I was on the planet.  The technology, the government… it’s all very alien. We need to be very careful in our approach, which is especially complicated since Kerj Shebs was arrested pending a temple transfer and his padawan died.

“How?”

“Saber interacted poorly with their tech and there was an explosion.  I don’t think they’ll allow us to carry lightsabers on Arrakis.”  

“Return to the Temple for a debriefing.  I’ll need to think who should be on this trip to Arrakis. May the Force be with you.”

“And with you, Master Nu.”

Chapter Text

Two gleaming dots descended through the atmosphere as they made their approach to the main spaceport on Arrakeen.

Ben shifted as the dots started resolving into shapes.  Paul slapped Ben on the back.  “Nervous?”

Ben shrugged. “A bit.”

“I’m interested to meet them.  The stories you and Lord Du Crion have told us… I can see us working well together.

Kerj Shebs twisted his hands in the force-suppressant cuffs.  He was a Jedi Knight and would not be treated like this.  He looked as the door down the hall opened and a guard walked down, carrying a tray.  Shebs narrowed his eyes. This guard was young. 

The guard placed the food tray on the ground and slid it through the wider slot on the floor.  Shebs cleared his throat. “How can I eat with these cuffs?”

The guard hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Where am I going to go? I’m locked in here.”

The guard shrugged and pulled out the key ring. “Ok, can you squeeze your hands through the bars?”

Shebs nodded and extended his hands.  As soon as the force flooded his senses, he slammed the guard into the door before inverting the guard to slam him into the ground, breaking his neck with a loud crack.  Exulting in the force flooding his body, he drew his arms back and thrust forward, blowing out the bars. An alarm began clanging frantically as he stepped out.  The door swung open and Shebs turned to see four Atreides guards entering the hall. He reached to the rearmost guard and ripped the sword out of his hand straight into the brainstem of the leading guard, pausing only for it to work its way through the shield.  He lifted another guard, pinned him to the wall with the force before mentally lifting and driving a spear through him.  The last armed guard charged him but Shebs threw him into the ceiling, the floor, and both walls.  Releasing the broken corpse, he turned to the last guard who dove for his sword.  The sword shot to the ceiling where the other sword and spear joined it.

The guard looked up at the three floating weapons that all angled at him. “What are you?” 

Shebs smiled grimly. “I am a Jedi Knight and your death.  None are above the Jedi.”

The guard attempted to lunge from his kneeling position, but Shebs froze him and plunged the weapons down.  They hit and gleamed against the shield, but he kept up the pressure and they slipped through, skewering the guard. Shebs summoned both short swords to hand, shook the blood off, and began stalking forward.  

After making his way through multiple hallways and leaving a trail of bodies behind him, Kerj Shebs spotted a dark cloaked figure emerging in front of him. 

“Xanatos Du Crion.”

“Kerj Shebs.”  Xanatos shrugged the dark cape off, powered his personal shield on, and drew his rapier and dagger. 

Shebs inclined his head and raced down the hall, augmenting his speed with the force.  Xanatos blinked, but matched his speed.  Their blades clashed furiously in a shower of sparks.  Shebs dropped his left guard a hair deliberately and Xanatos stabbed out quickly. The rapier flicked forward and bounced off Shebs’ stolen shield; without the expected resistance, Xanatos stumbled forward and Shebs sunk his left short sword into Xanatos’ lower torso.  Xanatos gasped and sunk to his knees.  Shebs kicked the dagger out of Xanatos’ hand and reversed the grip on his short sword, raising it high.  “You betrayed the order, walked away from us.  Now die and be cursed, traitor.” 

Before Shebs could thrust the sword down, something blurred over Xanatos’ head and latched onto his wrist, wrenching him backwards and onto the ground.  Getting his bearings, he tucked his legs and punted out when he felt the teeth on his wrist loosen.  The creature flew off of him with a yelp in a blur of fur and legs and slobber.  Rolling in the air, it hung on the wall and glared at him, its teeth emerging as several flaps of skin peeled back.  

Shebs summoned his sword to hand, “Shall we try aga-” before spinning, his sword flashing to deflect three blaster bolts.

“K’olar!”  A Mandalorian in black armor, with green and red highlights strode forward.  The creature slunk behind the armor figure who produced a longer one handed sword with a slight curve, reminiscent of an ancient naval officer’s sword.  The helmet cocked to the side for a brief second, “I hope you don’t take the chance to surrender. You kicked my strill.”

Shebs drew a breath to reply, but the Mandalorian lunged forward, deceptively fast.  Not even bothering with his sword, the Mandalorian drove him off his feet with the shoulder charge.  Blocking the downward strike with a shielded arm, Shebs drove his sword forward.  The Mandalorian caught the blade, squeezed his hand, and crushed the sword before a flame-thrower went off, scorching Shebs’ arm.  Shebs let go of his sword and yanked the one out of Xanatos, summoning it to his hand.  Twirling it, he winced as he considered his injuries. Deciding to end this quickly, he reached out to seize the Mandalorian in the force, but his grip skittered across the beskar allowing the Mandalorian to close the distance.  Finally getting the grip he needed, Shebs threw the Mandalorian up.  The Mandalorian lashed out, grabbed Shebs’ neck, and fired his jetpack.  The Mandalorian arced over Shebs, his grip on Shebs’ neck flipping the Jedi upside down and unceremoniously dumping him on the ground.  Shebs blinked, clearing the stars out of his eyes just in time to see a beskar boot swinging forward before darkness claimed him again. 

Ben glanced from where he was kneeling next to Xanatos and the medic.  The Mandalorian walked back to him and inclined his head.  “He’s out for now.”

“Thank you.”

“I don’t like diplomatic incidents.” The Mandalorian sheathed his sword before snapping his fingers.  The strill trotted right over to him and the Mandalorian continued, “Should we head back up to the negotiations?”

Ben glanced at the medic who nodded. “He’ll live.”  Ben stood back and gestured towards the stairs.  They walked away as an additional medical team arrived to assist with Xanatos and an arrest team showed up with force-suppressant cuffs.  

When they walked into the throne room, Ben headed to the dias while the black-armored Mandalorian headed back to the rest of the Mandalorians.  He nodded at his father, murmured something, and Duke Leto looked at the newly-arrived Mandalorian.

The Duke spoke, “Thank you for your assistance.” 

The Mandalorian inclined his head in a slight bow, “It was a pleasure to assist, your grace.”

Duke Leto smiled and a few of the Atreides guards chuckled.  

“To business, then.” Duke Leto glanced at Ben.  “How much bacta can we export?”

“Now or in a month’s time?”

“Now.” 

“About four tankers per day, enough for four hundred full immersion tanks.  In a month’s time, the second crop will finish growing and we’ll be set to export 150 tankers per day.” 
The Mandalorians held themselves very still.  The leader nodded, “What is your offer?” 

Duke Leto shrugged, “We’d like to equip all of our soldiers with beskar, begin a reforging program for our swords, and contract for specialized equipment.”

The leader, Ben really needed to get his name at some point, nodded, “A tall order. We would be interested in the personal shields and the bacta.”

“You will not reveal the secrets of beskar forging?”

“No.”

“Then the personal shields will have to be purchased rather than a knowledge exchange.”  

The helmet inclined in a nod. “Acceptable.  Shall we talk numbers?” 

“After a meal.  While the Jedi escape proved to be an interesting diversion for my son and your soldier, my wife has been preparing a feast for us.  We can provide curtains and stands for any who do not wish to have their helmets off in public.

“So the final sticking point is the amount of beskar you’ll provide.”  Duke Leto tossed the pen down. “We need far more than that.”  

Jaster Meerel spread his hands, “I only have half the mines on Mandalore proper, the New Mandalorians control the other half.  This is all the beskar that I can afford to export without alienating the clans.” 

Duke Leto glanced at Ben, who fractionally inclined his head. Leto continued, “Surely, there are more mines in the Mandalorian system?” 

Mereel pursed his lips.  “There’s the mines on Concordia, but Death Watch is heavily entrenched there. The personal shields may be enough to break the stalemate.” 

Duke Leto leaned back, drumming his fingers.  “What if I provided a legion of Atreides soldiers? Close-quarters sword fighting is our expertise and if we can deny these Death Watch use of their blasters, our shields are extremely effective against slug-throwers.  Once freed, we increase the amount of bacta provided in exchange for a perpetual lease of the mine and the contents extracted from it.

“75% of the content.”

“97%”

“80%”

“94% and that’s generous considering you are actively fighting the current owners of the mines.”

Mereel nodded, but countered, “90%” 

Duke Leto smiled, “I can live with that.”

Mereel stood, but hesitated, “You understand that we will not forge beskar’gam for you?”

Duke Leto stood. “Will our beskar offer a similar level of protection?  Beskar’gam has cultural and spiritual significance for you so I only ask that the beskar that is forged for us extends the same level of physical protection.”

Mereel nodded, “If your armor is structured properly, it’ll offer comparable protection.”

Pong Krell crossed all four of his arms, “They murdered my grand-padawan and are holding my padawan captive.”

Feemor glanced at the angry Master next to him.  “As I explained, it was a technological accident that occurred when the guard attempted to disarm him.  Seeing as your padawan and grand-padawan drew their lightsabers in the planetary leader’s throne room and threatened the leader, I’m not surprised the guards moved to disarm them.”

“The leader was interfering with a legitimate arrest warrant.”

“Actually, no arrest warrant has ever been issued for Xanatos.  The Jedi can arrest him based on suspicions of dark side activity, but only on planets that have signed extradition with the Jedi Order directly.  It’s not enough to have a Republic extradition treaty which is the law we conduct most of our arrests under.  I highly doubt Arrakis will grant us a Jedi extradition treaty after what happened now, as it is, we need to investigate their place in the senate.

“Pending, the Melida/Daan application is in the Senate.”

Feemor nodded in acknowledgement. “Master Yoda, in that case, it is imperative we repair our relationship with Arrakis.”

“Bah! Send a Jedi strike team.  We can field 30 masters, 72 knights, and 57 senior padawans in a strike force and level the place.  No one will ever murder a Jedi again or capture a Knight.  Besides, this is the same system that tortured Master Tahl.  We are justified in changing the regime.

Feemor shook his head, “Master Jinn’s report was sparse, but he wouldn’t have missed a whole planet and Master Tahl’s brief report before she went back into bacta didn’t mention a desert world and moons.  It’ll be a mistake to attack.”

“We are Jedi.  They cannot challenge us and live.”

“They didn’t challenge us, Master Krell.  They asserted the rights to their own laws and acted in self-defense when your lineage threatened to attack them.”

“Enough.”  Mace Windu’s voice silenced the debate.  “I will lead a fact finding mission to Arrakis.  Master Yan Dooku and Master Jocasta Nu will accompany me as will you, Feemor.  I will select a healer from the halls as well.  If there is anyone else we need, the Force will provide guidance.”

Chapter Text

“WAKE UP NOW PADAWAN!”

Blinking, Vos came back from the Force trance to feel armored hands thrusting on his chest and lips on his own.  His eyes snapped open and the Mandalorian kissing him rocked back.

“He’s alive!”

“Of course I’m alive, I just put myself into a… HOLY KARKING SITHSPIT, what did I miss?”

Every Jedi on the task force was prone on the ground with either Mandalorians aiming short rifles at them or an unknown armored group knelt on them with gleaming swords pressed to the throats of the Jedi. 

Vos tried to sit up, but the Mandalorian frowned and pressed him back.  “Udesii, ad. You’re safe now.”

Vos glanced at the number of scalpels attached to the Mandalorian’s armor.  “Right, I feel very safe. So safe.”

A green armored Mandalorian with red vambraces and holstered silver pistols stepped forward, “What did they do to you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You had no vital signs and were stuffed in a vent. The other ad was strapped in the water tank, again no vitals.  What did they do to you?”

Vos blinked, “Say what?”

“You were dead in a vent.  She’s dead and we-”

“She’s alive!” An accented voice, possibly Keldabian if Vos remembered his lessons, yelled from somewhere he couldn’t see. 

“She was dead in a water tank.” The Mandalorian corrected. “Considering that a Jedi demagolka just abandoned one of their own ad in a group of abandoned ade in a karking warzone, this doesn’t look good.  What happened?”

Vos laughed nervously. “Um, I persuaded Bant…the mon calamari girl, to stow away with me on the ship before the ambassadorial team arrived.  We both went into Force trances which places us deep into suspended animation.  We’re fine, but there wouldn’t be detectable vitals.”

The Mandalorian glared, who knew helmets could be that expressive , snarled “Force Osik,” and strode off, gesturing to the Mandalorians who slowly relaxed their weapons and the other group stood as well, not sheathing their swords. 

Vos casually flipped to his feet and grinned sheepishly at the glares Dooku, Jocasta Nu, Vosa, and Windu were shooting at him.  Tholme and Feemor just looked disappointed while Vokara was trying to check on Bant while two armored figures blocked her path. 

The Mandalorian spun when he reached the head of the group.  “Despite the misunderstanding, it appears you’ll be allowed to continue to the palace. However…”  The Jedi sensed a wave of amusement that radiated even through the beskar, “Turn over your lightsabers.”

All the Jedi looked thunderstruck at the requirement.  One of the armored figures stepped forward, “Ben Atriedes, formerly Obi-Wan Kenobi, specified that the Jedi could maintain possession of their kyber crystals, but the actual saber must be turned over.  Failure to comply will result in you being declared inadmissible to Arrakis.”

Komari Vosa stepped forward, hands crossed and resting on her sabers, “What if we don’t?” 

The Mandalorians all snapped their weapons up and covered the Jedi team while the armored figures dropped into ready stances.  The armored leader still stood relaxed, “That would be a very bad mistake, Padawan Vosa.” 

“How do you know my name?”

The man shrugged, “Ben Atreides might have reviewed the passenger manifest with us despite the fact that it clearly was incomplete.”

“Not deliberately so.” Mace Windu spoke.  “Please accept our apologies.”

The figure nodded, “No need. He’s actually on our unofficial welcome list.”

Tholme barked out a laugh, “Kenobi knew Vos would stow away?”

“Ben Atreides strongly suspected that Vos would be checking on him sooner or later.” 

Mace Windu sighed. “Can we go?”

“Not until you turn over your lightsabers.”  Two armored figures appeared and opened a metal weapons box with slots for the lightsabers.  Dooku gently nudged Padawan Vosa and the Jedi unhooked their lightsabers with various degrees of reluctance, all of them drawing the kyber out before passing them over.  

A series of packages came out and were presented to the Jedi. The armored figure smiled gruffly, “Compliments of Duke Leto and Ben Atreides.”  The Jedi opened the packages to see beautifully forged swords with their hilts being replicas of their lightsaber hilts.  Dooku lifted the blade and felt the exquisitely carved hilt, popping open a compartment that housed his kyber with a minor adjustment. 

Komari looked puzzled as she sheathed her twin blades at her hips. “How did they get our lightsabers designs?”

“Give some credit to our artists, but we did have references.”

Jocasta glared, “How did you access my archives?”

“Some padawans still remember their master’s access codes.” He gestured them towards some dragonfly looking machines.  “After you.”

Ben straightened as he looked towards the door. “They’re here.”

Jessica glanced at him, “Nervous?”

Ben hesitated.

Duke Leto nodded, “You are my son and hold Melida-Daan in trust for our house.  The Jedi cannot do anything to you.”

Ben squared his shoulders, but fell silent as the doors swung open.

The Jedi strode in, led by Mace Windu, stopping a respectful distance from the throne before bowing.  

Dooku stepped forward, “My Lord Duke, it is an honor to be welcomed to your home.”

The Duke inclined his head.

“Furthermore, we are not worthy to be gifted such magnificent gifts.”

The Duke frowned, “That was expediency, not magnanimity.  Feemor should know.”

Dooku nodded, “Of course. Please accept the apologies of the Jedi Order.”

“You have a lot more to apologize for.” Duke Leto gestured to the walls where a series of holograms materialized.  The Jedi turned and looked at the headshots and names floating. 

Komari spoke up, “Who are these and why should we care?”  Several Atreides guards hissed and their hands fell on their sword hilts. 

“ Komari. ” Dooku hissed before stepping forward, “Forgive my padawan’s impertinence.”

Duke Leto shook his head. “The question is valid, but painful.  These are the ones killed by Kerj Shebs during his escape attempt.”

“That’s…” Dooku trailed off. “Forgive me, your grace, but that is unbecoming of a Jedi.”

“I shall hold the Jedi blameless for his actions, but House Atreides invokes the right of Kanley against Knight Kerj Shebs and his lineage back three generations.”

Mace placed his hand on his forehead, feeling the shatterpoint pressuring at the words.  Dooku’s eyes flicked to Mace before returning to Duke Leto.  “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with Kanley. ”

“Master Dooku, it is an oath of vengeance.  Typically sworn between House rivals in their galaxy, my father has sworn to end the line of Kerj Shebs.”

Several of the Jedi hissed in shock. 

Dooku frowned, “Your Grace, while you are justified in your desire given Knight Shebs’ deplorable actions, Knight Kerj Shebs remains a diplomat of the Republic and…”

“So you claim his actions in the name of the Republic?” Duke Leto’s cold voice cut across Dooku’s.

The room chilled and Dooku drummed his fingers on the hilt of his new sword.  “Your Grace… His actions are deplorable. However, the slaying of a Jedi would poison the Senate against you if Knight Kerj Shebs does not stand trial under Republic law.”

“Do you think I care about the Republic?”

“I think you care about your House very much, Your Grace.  By all means, declare Kerj Shebs persona non grata and subject to death if he returns to your world, but let him depart your world.

Duke Leto turned to Obi-Wan, “What do you think?” 

“Allow Knight Shebs to depart bound in chains and suppressors with the declaration of Arrakis attached to him.”

Duke Leto nodded slowly, “Very well.” He unsheathed his sword, laying the naked blade across his knees. “Before all assembled, the Jedi, the Mandalorians, and House Atreides, I, Duke Leto of House Atreides and the loyal servant of his Majesty, Shaddam IV, proclaim two acts to become law upon the hearing of them. Act One, I do hereby declare the system of Arrakis neutral and independent from the Republic.  Act Two, I do hereby grant Knight Kerj Shebs limited diplomatic immunity while he is transported off Arrakis before invoking the law of Kanley against him and his line to three generations. Thus I have spoken. Thus shall be obeyed.”

Chapter Text

Mace tossed his cloak over the couch and slumped down on the nearest chair.  

“In hindsight, perhaps bringing you along to the planet of interdimensional travelers was not the best idea.” Dooku spoke as he tapped his sword and dimmed the lights using the Force.  

“I’ll take Knight Shebs back to Coruscant, he can’t be deployed anywhere near this sector or the Mandalorian sector.”  Mace sighed.  “What a karking cluster...headache.”

“A Mandalorian-Arrakis alliance outside the Republic? We’ll have to report it to the Senate, for all the good it’ll do.” 

Mace waved his hand and the Jedi assembled in the shared living room.  “Master Dooku will stay to continue negotiations here with Feemor.  Master Tholme, you’ll accompany me and Knight Shebs back to Coruscant.  Padawan Vos, your fate will be in your Master’s hands.”

Quinlan looked pleadingly at his master who glanced at Feemor who nodded in return.  “You can stay.  That should give me enough undisturbed time to find a long work in dire need of translation.”

“I can give you some direction if you’d like.”

“Thank you, Master Nu.”

Quinlan gulped, but settled.

Mace looked around “Master Nu, I presume you want to stay.” 

She nodded.

“Master Che?”

“I’ll stay.  I haven’t had a chance to properly examine Obi-Wan yet.”

“Padawan Vosa, do you want to escort Knight Shebs back to Coruscant?”

She shook her head, “I’d prefer to stay on Arrakis, there’s a lot to learn here.”

Dooku and Mace exchanged a brief glance before Mace turned to Bant. “Initiate Eerin, unfortunately, you don’t have a choice.  You have to return to the Temple.”

Bant nodded, “Can I see Obi-Wan?”

“Unfortunately not.  The ship is being refueled and they’re preparing to transfer Knight Shebs right now.  We have to be back to the transport in fifteen minutes to get flown to the landing field.”

Bant nodded.  “I understand.  With your permission, may I go record a message for Obi-Wan?”

“You may.”

“Actually, Master Windu, Initiate Eerin, please wait.” Vokara stood and walked to Bant.  “I’ve seen you volunteer many times in the halls so I’ve been considering this for a little while, but your acceptance in the face of your personal desires is commendable.  Bant Eerin, will you be my padawan?” She lifted a hand forestalling Bant’s answer, “Think about it quickly, but carefully.  You will be exposed to all the injuries and horror that the order faces, you may be faced with the choice of overseeing your friends’ medical care, and having to make a decision that leaves them in pain.  Can you do this?”

Bant nodded. “I can, Master.  The ocean is dark and merciless, but full of life as well; I trust you to guide me on the currents.”

Mace nodded, “Padawan Eerin, congratulations.  You may stay with your master here on Arrakis.”

Ben nodded as Master Dooku and Komari Vosa entered the room.  “Master Dooku, Padawan Vosa.” 

“Obi-W-”

“No. Not anymore, Master Dooku. I gave up that name when House Atreides adopted me. I’m Ben Atreides now.”

He felt Master Dooku simultaneously studying the Force around him while examining his face before Dooku spoke, “You have changed, Ben.”

“I have.”

Dooku turned his gaze at the teen sitting next to Ben.  “My apologies, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

“General Cerasi of the Young and Betrothed Member of House Atreides.”

Dooku briefly glanced between Ben and Cerasi and Ben sighed.

“Before you ask, yes, we’re betrothed.” 

Dooku nodded, “Congratulations.  With your permission, I have some questions.

“Certainly, I’ll answer what I can.”

“Can you give me a mission report of your time on Melida-Daan up to the point of your departure?”

Ben concisely laid out their arrival on Melida-Daan, his actions, and his decision to stay when Qui-Gon delivered the ultimatum.  Dooku glanced at Qui-Gon’s sparse report before asking “Ben, did you stay because of Cerasi? Qui-Gon stated you stayed because of a girl.”

Ben glanced down before lifting his head and meeting Dooku’s gaze. “That’s a simplistic and shallow take. I didn’t stay for a girl, I stayed for all the girls hiding in the sewers, all the girls fighting on the front lines, all the girls who died murdered by their parents.  I stayed for the boys fighting their fathers, the ones dragging their injured friends into bombed out shelters….” Ben trailed off and Cerasi gripped his hand. “The betrothal occurred after I was accepted into House Atreides to give the House the majority alliance.

Dooku nodded, “I see.”  

Everyone sat in silence with Komari’s leg sounding a rhythm against the chair until Ben leaned forward.  “Well, I think this is awkward enough.  Master Dooku, when is Komari going for her trials?”

Dooku’s eyes widened slightly before smoothing. “Komari has been doing quite well and I’ll suggest her to the council for knighting within a few months.” 

Ben narrowed his eyes, “What do you think the Council will say?”

“Who can tell the future or the ways of the Council?”

“Lie.” Ben stared flatly at Dooku and Komari flinched. “That’s a lie, you know or should know the general feelings of the council.

“I do not know the will of the Council-”

“Lie.”

Cerasi stood, fury radiating off her.  “You masters are all the same.  Answer the question without lying or I’m going straight to Jessica and the Duke!  We don’t trust the Jedi, you’ve betrayed your padawans, and one of the Jedi has left a swath of bodies here.”

Dooku sighed, “May I speak to Komari privately?”

“NO!” sounded from both Cerasi and Ben; Komari looking apprehensively at Dooku.  

Dooku groaned. “Fine.” He looked at Komari. “The Council is unlikely to approve your petition. I spoke about it in the last council meeting-” 

“Lie.”

Dooku frowned and his face cleared, “The last scheduled council meeting, Feemor convened an emergency meeting.” He glanced at Ben who nodded confirmation.

“As I was saying, I spoke about submitting you for Knighthood; several objections were raised.  Several masters have noticed that you have a crush on me, which is not entirely unusual, but you also struggle with attachment, having placed yourself or the mission in peril because I or one of your close friends was in danger.  Furthermore, you have an instinctive affinity for combat.  Your tactics have been called aggressive, occasionally impulsive, and you demonstrate a natural affinity for battle meditation if you were to pursue it.  I’ve tried to argue, showing many Knights during the Sith Wars with similar personalities, but the council took my statistics and saw that in this personality type, not one has ever achieved Knighthood through a meditative trial, but rather through slaying a Sith in single combat or for rescuing their fellow Jedi from Sith.”

“That’s why Mace tried to mediate with me and give me pointers?”

Dooku nodded, “The council has promised to review your application with fresh eyes, but you’ve always succeeded at moving mediations, katas, combat training… We need watchmen along the outer rim and you are very well suited for the role.”

“Lie.”

Dooku glared at Ben who glared back unrepentantly.  “Fine, Komari, your negotiation skills need a lot of polish and I’m a little nervous that you can’t sink deeply into silent Force meditation without assistance, but you would do well in a watchman position regardless.”

Ben nodded. 

“I am proud of you and I hope the Council changes their mind.”

Komari stood abruptly, knocking over her chair, “I need to… I need time.” 

She spun and fled the room. 

Dooku flinched as if he was about to go after his padawan, but checked himself and studied his datapad for a long minute.  “If I go after her now, I’ll make it worse.”

Ben sighed. “Unfortunately, truth.”

After fleeing the palace and finding a shaded spot in an alley to indulge in an unknightly sobbing breakdown, Komari started to head back to the palace.  The force nudged her feet and she wound her way through the city until she reached a spaceport.  She walked in and wandered; pausing when she found a cruiser that she recognized.  The Force hinted that she wouldn’t have to wait long and she began to stretch, sinking into a light moving meditation until someone cleared his throat. “Excuse me, can you find a place other than the hallway to the hanger.”

She turned, “Of course, my apolo… Xanatos Du Crion.”

“Komari Vosa.”

The two stared at each other before Komari reached for her blades.  “I suppose I should probably take you to Master Dooku?”

“ Tch-Tch-Tch.  I wouldn’t be so hasty, Padawan.”

She glared at him.  “Try me.”

Xanatos shrugged. “No.”  He started to walk past her until her blade appeared at his throat.  “Really?”

“I’ve had a really bad day.  Would you please just come back to the palace with me so something will go right in this Force-forsaken day?”

Xanatos drew in a long breath as if he was honestly considering it before speaking, “No.”  He swatted the blade aside and drew his rapier.  “En garde.” 

Komari grinned as they quickly exchanged steel.  They paused and both shed their outer cloaks.

“Not bad.”

“Well, I am the apprentice of the Master of Makashi.”

She went on a whirling series of attacks and Xanatos gave ground before he produced an off-hand dagger and drove her back with the rapier and dagger.  She back-flipped and grinned. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” She went on the offensive until a tiny gap opened in Xanatos’ defense and she quickly lunged.  Her blade skittered off his suddenly gleaming side and Xanatos took the opportunity to disarm her, sending both blades into the wall. He lifted the rapier under Komari’s chin.  “I believe this means I win.”

“To the victor goes the spoils.” She lifted an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips.  Xanatos’ eyes flicked up and down her form briefly while his rapier never waivered.  “Indeed.  Tell me Komari, have you ever seen the holomover, Zorro?”

Komari’s face slowly flushed red as she thought of the scene. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes. Hold still.” 

Komari closed her eyes and heard his blade flutter around her.  After a second or two, her sleeves detached while her tunic remained in place.  Before she could react, Xanatos swept up one of her sleeves.  “A token of your favor.” He winked at her, “I’m too much of a gentleman to leave a lady such as yourself in such a state.  Besides…” he stepped so close his breath ghosted against her ear, “your hair isn’t long enough.”  Xanatos swiftly crossed the gap to his ship and vanished aboard, leaving Komari to watch him leave as she dealt with some very new and unexpected feelings. 

Chapter Text

Dooku sat with Ben Atreides, Cerasi having abandoned them when they began discussing obscure force philosophy.  The door creaked open and Komari stepped in and froze. 

“Komari, come in and have some tea.”  Dooku lifted an eyebrow, “Fascinating change to your outfit.”

“Well, if I’m not going to be a knight, what’s the point of the robes?”

Dooku sighed.  “We need to talk.”

“Fine.”  She stalked over and threw herself down.

Dooku gestured over to Ben.  “I asked him to stay since he can call me on any lie and correct me.  It’s a fascinating application of the Force.”

Komari just kept glaring at him.

“Fine, I’ll talk.”  Dooku marshaled his thoughts. “Komari, I’m sorry for how all of this came out.  I was sworn to secrecy regarding the meeting and it wasn’t until Ben and Cerasi threatened a diplomatic incident over my secrecy that I could reveal it.”

“Lie.”

Komari sneered.  Dooku sighed, “The threat of a diplomatic incident is the excuse I’m using to tell Komari the results of the council meeting, I was just looking for a good excuse.”

Ben nodded “Truth.”

Komari leaned forward. “You don’t think I’ll make a good Jedi.”

Dooku shook his head. “I think you do not fit any of the traditional paths.  You would have excelled in a galaxy at war with the Sith and been a magnificent general.  I petitioned the Council to knight you as a watchman for the outer rim.” 

Dooku paused and Ben nodded, “True so far.”  

Dooku sighed, “I spoke about this earlier, but you don’t fit the modern ideal of the Jedi.  You can’t sink into the deeper mediation alone and you’re far too sharp in your negotiations.  Yet, I don’t view this as a problem about you , Komari. I see this as potential flaws to the Jedi’s way of thinking.  You have much to offer and while it is often tinged with violence and impulsivity, you would make a good watchman, roaming between systems and resolving threats.  I was outvoted on the council.”

“Who voted against her?”

“I can’t - shouldn’t - reveal that.”

Ben held up two fingers, “Two words: Diplomatic…”

  “Ki-Adi-Mundi, Yarel Poof, Yoda, Saesee Tiin, Eeth Koth, and T’un all voted against you.  Jucasta Nu, Tyvokka, and Mace Windu abstained, citing the need for further training and evaluation.  My vote was forbidden, Sifo-Dyas and Yaddle voted in your favor.  Even if all the undecideds flipped, the best we can hope for is a 5-6 split.”

Ben frowned, “Isn’t Yoda her grandmaster? Shouldn’t his vote be banned as well?”

“It wouldn’t matter. Overturning a contested knighting needs a clear majority and a 5-5 tie isn’t enough.”  He looked back at Komari. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged, the sleeveless tunic slipping on one shoulder, “It hurts, but it helps knowing that while I’m not enough for the Council, I’m enough for you.”

“My dear, you don’t have to be anything for me.”  Dooku narrowed his eyes as he extended his force sense.  “Although I sense that the awkwardness of your crush has faded somewhat? I’m glad you’ve moved past it, but I apologize if I caused you grief.”

“Hm? Oh, the crush and the knight information aren’t related.”

"Truth." Ben piped in, eyes dancing with mischief.

Dooku narrowed his eyes. “Komari….”

“I might have met someone who was young and very…vigorous.”

“Does this someone have a name?”

“Are you going to try to stab him?”

“No.”

“LIE!”

Dooku scowled at Ben, “I haven’t decided yet?”

Ben nodded, “Truth.”

Komari smirked, “Better not to risk it.”

Dooku nodded, “All right then, keep your secrets.”  He stood. “Thank you, Ben.”

Chapter Text

With the expansion of the galaxy, I've got a lot of moving pieces to check in and conversations to be had.  

Would you prefer to have each conversation uploaded as its own chapter, similar to Chapter 11?

OR

Wait for me to collect the various conversations into one chapter before returning to the plot?

Comment your preferences down below and anybody in particular you want to see checked up on.  I have my own ideas, but reader comments may spark ideas (I've been sitting on an idea from a comment in Chapter 5 for a while and I'm almost there.)

Chapter Text

Ben grinned as he entered the main hall.  “Paul!”  He broke into a run and almost immediately stopped when a Fremen soldier detached himself from the wall where he had been leaning concealed.  

“Jamis! Stand down, that’s my brother.” Paul grinned from where he was holding court with a mixed group of Atreides, Mandalorians, and Fremen with a sleepy Fremen girl slumped on him. 

Jamis spit at Ben’s feet and Ben responded with a Young battlesign for thank you with one hand and filled his mouth with water from his canteen with the other. Spitting the entire mouthful at Jamis’ feet, Ben inclined his head. “Thank you for guarding my brother.”  

Jamis looked at Ben’s muted red hair and fair skin.  “You share manners, but not looks.”

Ben grinned, “I’m adopted.”  He strode over and Paul gestured for him to sit, Duncan Idaho immediately standing.  Ben nodded his thanks and listened as the conversation returned to evaluating the moons of Concordia, the most likely mine locations for Death Watch headquarters, and the best places to get through beskar armor with a knife.

As the conversation wound down, Paul nudged Chani.  “Hey, time to get up.”

Chani blinked and stood up. “Is that…?”

“My brother, Ben.”

She smacked his arm. “You just let me sleep?”

“You were tired!” Ben grinned at Paul’s words and Paul added, “And we were in the middle of battle planning.”

Chani shrugged, “What’s done is done.” She extended her hand, “I am Chani, daughter of Liet, wife of Paul Atreides.”

Ben grinned, “Pleasure to meet you. Ben Atreides.” He turned and waved at the far side of the hall.

Cerasi got up from the other table and joined them as Ben introduced her, “Chani, my betrothed, Cerasi.”

Cerasi smiled, “Pleasure to meet you.” Her grin turned mischievous, “How did the meeting with Jessica go?”

Ben and Paul both winced and Chani frowned. “Direct.” She tucked Cerasi’s arm in hers.  “Not here. Paul, lead on to your room so we can talk privately.”

Paul quickly took the lead with Ben at his side and the two young women following.

Paul opened the door to his room with a heavy shove to break the security seals and frowned as the smell hit him. 

Ben winced, “Something die in here?”

“I haven’t been here in a few months.”

Chani and Cerasi walked in and Chani frowned, “It’s unpleasant, but I’ve smelled worse.”

Cerasi laughed, “I lived in a sewer under a battlefield.  This is nothing.”

Paul glanced around the room confused.  “I have no idea what’s causing the smell…”

“Like Cerasi said, we lived in a sewer.  We can handle it.”

Paul acquiesced with a nod.  Cerasi turned to the three, “So, story time.”  

“Duncan invited Duke Leto and I to meet the Fremen in the desert. During our meeting, I met Chani and we talked for a bit before Stilgar invited Duncan and I to travel to his sietch to learn the ways of the Fremen.  I accepted but we were carrying so much water to gift to the tribe that my personal water beads were interfering with the carrying straps of the gift containers so I passed my water to Chani and… yeah.”

“Stilgar took that as a proposal and negotiated a dowry and tribute for the tribe from the Water Duke and the Water Duke-”

“He said you could call him father or Leto, you don’t need to stand on ceremony with him.”

“ The Water Duke saw the benefits of the Atreides/Fremen union.  Stilgar officiated and the Water Duke witnessed with the rest of my troop.”

“We’ve been visiting the different sietches and forming alliances with the various Fremen tribes, have you…”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure that’s interesting.” Cerasi interrupted, “What was Jessica’s reaction to you getting married without her there?”

Paul frowned, “She strongly disapproves of the marriage. Chani is not ‘a suitable wife for a future Duke’ but we’re already married so her opinion is moot.”

Cerasi glanced at Ben and Paul. “She has two sons now…”

Ben shook his head, “I may be the spare, but I don’t have enough influence in House Atreides to pose a risk.”

Paul nodded, “Ben’s power base is on Melida/Daan, mine is here on Arrakis.  I’ve been with the House since my birth as the sole heir and now I’m building alliances with the Fremen.  If a civil war were to be declared, Ben controls the water, but I have the soldiers and enough ships to force a landing.” 

Cerasi shuddered and Paul reached out to touch her hand briefly before Chani stepped forward and enfolded the teen into a hug.  Paul continued, “You don’t need to worry about it, Cerasi. We are all Atreides here and we don’t betray faith.”

Dooku walked into the banquet hall and stopped. Bant, a half step behind Vokara sighed in relief.   The room was humid and filled with water; glasses of ice water sat by every plate and every third plate had an open glass pitcher of ice water sitting in the center of the table.   A grid of small tubing ran across the perimeter of the banquet hall roof and released a fine spray of mist around the edges of the room while the Atreides bull head was flanked by two thundering waterfalls. Dooku continued into the hall, listening to the conversations of the Fremen marveling at the ostentatious wealth the Water Duke shared in such abundance, the excited chatter of a table full of children,a perturbed water merchant bemoaning the loss of his livelihood, until Dooku reached his seat and settled across from the Mandalorian delegation.  The servers placed a white lemon fish dish in front of them while a second server followed, taking wine and drink orders.  Dooku frowned as many of the Mandalorians selected tihaar, beer, or a red wine; even a few of the Jedi selected the red or rose wines available.   

The young Mandalorian sitting across from him turned to the server, “A dry Alderaan white.” 

Dooku sighed, “Finally, a man of culture.”  

The Mandalorian looked across the table. “Try persuading them to mind their manners at official banquets.”

Dooku nodded in sympathy, “I have the benefit of being able to send Jedi back to the Temple for Manners and Etiquette classes if they are uncivilized. Master Yan Dooku at your service.”

The Mandalorian inclined his head, “Walon Vau, at yours.”  

The Mandalorian next to Vau leaned over, “Hey Vau, It’s supposed to be a dry white wine with fish?”

“Yes, Skirata, this particular fish pairs well with a dry white.”

“Thanks.” Skirata turned to the server, “I’ll have a Corellian red.”

Vau’s groan was muffled by the laughter of several Mandalorians who had overheard Skirata’s jab at banquet etiquette.

As the banquet drew to a close, Duke Leto stood.  The room fell silent as the Duke’s eyes slowly traced from table to table before he spoke, “Fremen from the desert! Haat Mando’ade! Young of Melida/Daan! Atreides!” The Duke’s eyes stopped briefly on the Jedi and deliberately turned away from them.  “We stand together on the cusp of a historic future! General Ben Atreides, Governor Nield, and Peacekeeper Cerasi have finished the port and pump remodel; bacta shall flow to the galaxy and water to Arrakis!” The room exploded in cheers until Duke Leto lifted his arms, “Our alliances are strong! Mand’alor Mereel and the Haat Mando’ade shall have founded a new enclave in Arrakeen and the Fremen come forth from the desert; we welcome and honor both with gifts of water!” 

The Mandalorians pounded the tables and several cries of “OYA! OYA!” punctuated the cheering.  Duke Leto stood letting the cheers settle, “And the Atreides family grows stronger yet! Chani, daughter of Liet, is now wedded to my son, Paul Muad'Dib of House Atreides-” He was cut off by the roar of the Fremen and House Atreides.  Duke Leto nodded to Paul who stood and acknowledged the cheers.  When the room fell silent, Duke Leto waited for complete silence, “House Atreides now stands on the brink of history! Together, we will forge a future that your children and my three children will be proud to inherit!” 

Pause  Paul’s eyes, starting to crinkle in a smile, darting to Jessica’s stomach and to him.

Pause  Ben’s teeth gleaming as he and Cerasi grinned.

Pause The moment snapped and the crowd surged to their feet, roaring their approval, stamping their feet, and hammering the tables in a joyous cacophony.

Chapter Text

Master Krell greeted Knight Shebs at the hanger and swept him off, speaking quietly to him. 

Mace rubbed his temples and Tholme looked sympathetically at him. “Shatterpoint?”

Mace hummed before speaking, “Maybe.  Knight Shebs’ actions were deplorable and if the extent of his arrogance is true, then…”

“That doesn’t bode well for Master Krell.”  Tholme folded his hands into his robe.  “Should I request some extra eyes on them?”

“I’m not sure…”

“Shebs was too polite with us, wasn’t he?”

A slow nod followed that pronouncement.  “I need to brief the rest of the Council.”

Knight Shebs stood in the middle of the circle, three chairs sitting empty while the Council finished their debriefing.

“...Executed multiple people with the force and-.”

Kerj Shebs stepped forward and Master Windu stopped. “May the Council recognize that I was confined in prison and was merely exercising my right to escape.”

“Knight Feemor advised you to remain while he returned to Coruscant to get aid for you.”

“Why should I have trusted him? His lineage brothers occupied important roles and he dismissed my concerns about the terrorists in favor of finding his lineage brother.”

“Xanatos and Obi-Wan do not belong to any lineage.  They have departed the temple and their line is broken.”

“Of course, Master Mundi. However, Xanatos and Obi-Wan seem quite… attached … to each other and considering the lineage link, it is not unreasonable to assume that I was at risk of being forgotten and left to rot.”

Master Windu frowned.  “You still killed several soldiers.”

“They were soldiers holding a prisoner whose first duty was to the Republic.  I had an obligation to escape, investigate the terrorist group, and return home.”

“Your actions-”

“Master Windu, I understand that you believed my actions drove Arrak away. They would have left anyway, my duty to escape is a convenient excuse that they are using.”

Master Mundi nodded slowly, “Your commitment to duty is admirable.  Shall we vote on whether or not to censure Knight Shebs?”

The vote was taken and Master Mundi leaned back, “You are dismissed, Knight Shebs.”

“Are you kriffing kidding me?” Feemor growled.

“Language.” Dooku snapped. “But the sentiment stands. Jocasta and I weren’t consulted or asked to vote.”

Mace’s hologram flickered, “You think I didn’t make that argument before the session?  Master Mundi took great delight in reminding me that the Council only needed nine members to review disciplinary actions against knights and with Sifo-Dyas in the Healer’s wing again, I couldn’t carry the day against the dogmatists plus Yoda sided with the dogmatists again. Yaddle and Tyvokka voted to censure Knight Shebs, but that’s only three against six. With the clear majority, Knight Shebs is cleared for duty.”

“House Atreides will not be happy.”

“As much as I’m sympathetic, Master Dooku, what are they going to do? Leave the Republic even more?”

“They are building an army.  Komari is gathering information about the interactions between the Mandalorians and the Atreides soldiers as we speak.”

“Kill!”  A Mandalorian line judge lifted the flag.  “Point to the Jettise.

“Dank Ferrick!” Her opponent threw his vibroblade down and Komari summoned it to her hand, lightly catching it and easily balancing her dual short swords and the summoned blade. Levitating her blades, she sheathed them with a thought and stepped forward to give the blade back.  “You fought well, Myles.”

“Not well enough.” Myles scowled. “I’d like to see you up against Jango.”

“Will I do?” Komari and Myles turned to see Walon Vau gesture and his strill trotted over to the shade. Unlimbering his beskad, he stretched, the desert sun glinted off the long tapered curved blade as he carefully applied an edge guard . 

She grinned, “Standard rules? First to lethal touch wins?”

“First lethal touch wins. Ready?”

Komari nodded, “I’m ready.”

The Mandalorian line judge lifted his flag, “Ready, S-”

Vau kicked the sand up and Komari whirled away from it.  Her body snapped back as she went airborne before being driven to the ground.  Vau tapped her neck with his wrist blade. “Victory.”  He rolled off of her, got to his feet, and extended a hand. 

She took it begrudgingly, “You cheated.”

“I never agreed to any rules beyond lethal touch and if you expect your opponent to wait for you to be ready, you’re clearly not prepared for -”

Komari’s blades leaped off the sand and she drove furiously forward. 

Vau absorbed the first series of blows through judicious use of his beskar armor before turning and driving forward with his blade in a series of brutally fast cuts.  Komari parried in a storm of sparks and stepped forward to lay her blade along his throat. “Ha! I win.”

“Until sepsis sets in.” Vau remarked dryly.  

Komari glanced down where Vau’s wrist blade touched her stomach. “Fair enough.”

She nodded respectfully and stepped back.  Turning around, she swept her eyes towards where Ben had been stretching earlier, but she froze when a black-caped figure strode onto the field.  He was clearly moving towards Ben, but Komari threw a mental ping at him and he froze briefly before changing directions.  Coming to a stop, he bowed, “Komari Vosa.”  

“Xanatos Du Crion.” 

He lifted an eyebrow. “I see you’ve replaced your sleeves.” 

“Yes, I did. If you want me disrobed, buy me dinner first.” 

Xanatos grinned, “Good to know.”   She glared at him and he unsheathed his rapier and dagger.  “Ready to go another round?”

Komari grinned, “You’re on.”

The two saluted before blurring towards each other, swords clashing in a discordant metal song.  Komari laughed as the exchange drove her back before she launched a furious counterattack.  Xanatos bound her blade and flung it away only for her to use her now free hand to wrap and throw him to the ground.  She settled on his chest, pinning both arms to the ground, leaning over his face with a smirk, “Looks I win this round.”

Xanatos grinned, “I haven’t yielded yet.”

“And just what do you think you can do pinned under me?”

“Lots of things, but as for this fight-” Xanatos lunged up with his head, planting a kiss on Komari’s cheek.  She loosened her grip in shock and Xanatos flipped her, pinning her to the ground.  Their breath mingled as they stared eye-to-eye, the moment slowly stretching between them.

“Murcyur ! Murcyur ! Murcyur ! Murcyur !” The Mandalorians started chanting and the two flew apart.  Xanatos plunged into the Mandalorians and their ribald suggestions trailed after him as the group followed him across the training field. 

Komari stood flushed and got her breathing under control.  Ben strode up to her with his betrothed and the other padawans trailing behind him, “Really, my older brother?”

“Apparently, I have a type.” Komari muttered. Ben hummed, and she clarified, “Force-sensitive noble hutt-spawns.”

Ben chuckled.  “Let’s get into the shade, Bant is going to burn out here. 

A Mandalorian who had been leaning against the wall stepped towards them and Ben nodded politely at the Mandalorian. “Before you say anything, the Jedi all have caburs and Cerasi isn’t taking any adoption offers.”

Komari saw the expressionless mask radiate disappointment and the Mandalorian stepped aside.  They proceeded inside and Komari glanced at Ben, “What was that about?”

“The True Mandalorians have a tendency to try to adopt any kids that are orphans. Part of their culture.”

Cerasi nodded, “Yeah, I’ve declined five today alone.   They’re petitioning to establish an enclave on Melidaan so that the kids can get adopted, but we’re not going to let the balance of power swing that far.”

Bant piped up, “Do you think we could go to Melidaan? The climate would be much more agreeable for me.” 

Ben and Cerasi both shook their heads and then glanced at each other. “No Jedi will be permitted to return to Melidaan.”  Cerasi said firmly, “We were abandoned by Jinn and then our allies slaughtered by Shebs.”

Bant looked at Ben.  “Obi-”

“My name is Ben Atreides now. My betrothed’s words are correct and we will not permit the Jedi to return to our world…no matter how close of friends we are.”

“But Vokara is a healer…”

“The Young have bacta and medical droids aplenty in Zehava.  The few that could benefit from Force healing have already been transferred to the hospital at Arrakeen.”  Ben’s voice was sharp before softening, “Bant… I’m not the crechemate you remember. I have a duty and responsibility to my people.”

“You’ve changed, Ben.”

“Jinn didn’t leave me much of a choice if I wanted to save the children.”  

Bant’s face fell and Komari contemplated how much trouble she would get in if she got a good punch in on her estranged lineage brother before she was asked to leave the Order.

Chapter Text

Duncan Idaho saluted Duke Leto, took his place at his Duke’s side, and studied the map table.  “The mine on Concordia, Khazad-Ruus.”

Duke Leto nodded.

Mand’alor Mereel tapped the edge of the table.  “We need to figure out how to get close.  We could airdrop in, but there are sentries and jetpack sensors.  Landing for a frontal assault would allow them time to get the powerful guns in place and the shields would drained too quickly between that and standard blaster rifles.”

“Repulsor belts won’t trigger the sensors.” Duke Leto tapped the map.  “We could secure the mountain entrances and the air circulation intakes with a precision drop.”

Mand’alor Mereel shook his head, “Too risky. The sentries constantly scan the sky and the automated cargo ships don’t pass over the mine.  They’ve positioned themselves well.”

Duncan Idaho leaned forward, “Not well enough.  They don’t have enough sentries guarding the northern edge.”

“It’s not feasible.  It’s bare desert with no camouflage and very little…” The Mand’alor’s voice faded off before he asked, “Wait, you have desert trained soldiers?”

Duke Leto glanced at Duncan Idaho, “How many Fremen volunteer battalions do we have?”

“We have fifteen formed for training and defense of Arrakis.  If we’re willing to pay in water, we might have a good number of volunteers for an off-planet assignment.”

“I can pay in water well enough.  How many battalions would you want to shepard through the desert?”

“Against sentries bored and not expecting to see anything?  I could take the top of the mine with a single well-trained company, but for safety’s sake, I’ll take a battalion.”

“Can 500 men stay concealed?” 

“500 Fremen in a desert, chosen for their skill in silent movement, camouflage, and bladework; absolutely, your grace.” 

Duke Leto nodded and studied the map.  “Once the top of the mountain is secured, we can land a half legion via repulsor belts and have two and half legions prepared for follow-up.”

“I can commit 7500 Mandalorians soldiers as well.  There’s approximately 30,000 in the mine, but it’s a mix of actual warriors, cultists, non-combatants, slaves, and child prisoners.”

“That should be enough especially since it’ll be bladework in the mines.” Duke Leto nodded decisively. “Duncan, get your volunteers.  I want Khazad-Ruus to be secure in two months.” 

Duncan snapped to attention, flowed through the Atreides salute, and left to collect his new volunteer battalion.

Chancellor Valorum nodded as he guided the Senator from Sluis Van out of his office.  Adi Gallia rose and entered.  “Problems in paradise, Chancellor?” 

“Typical complaints.  Outer rim planet feels that the Core is more favorably treated.  It’s a litany we’ve heard over and over again.”

“Any truth to it?”

“Perhaps.  Their planet is consistently the highest cost on any bid so most Senators will vote for more affordable or easily inspectable contracts.”

“Have you offered subsidies?” 

“We have, but they still lost since they’re not easily inspectable.”

Adi nodded, “That’s too bad.  Do you still have time for the Jedi updates?”

“Of course.  The sabotage at the temple?”

“Abruptly stopped.  There’s been nothing and Qui-Gon is baffled.  He’ll continue to investigate, but there’s no sign of any intruders, no motive, no further actions. We’ll continue to investigate the situation of course.”

Valorum nodded, “The Thyferra investigation?”

“Stalled.”

“It’s important.”

“The investigation took them to Arrakis, a desert world, where the planet imprisoned Knight Shebs and his padawan died in a technological accident.”

“Murder?” 

“Knight Feemor was there and testified that it appeared to be a genuine technological accident.” 

“Will we levy the standard death tax against them?”

“Apparently, Arrakis is not part of the Republic and publicly rejected becoming part of the Republic.”

“Outer Rim?”

“Yes.”

“Desert? So they can’t grow bacta.”

“Correct.  There is reference to a moon that has water…”

“No matter.  If the investigation sent them to the desert, then I can reassure Thyferra that they do not need to worry about substandard bacta flooding the market.”

“Anything else I need to be aware of?”

“Those were the latest updates you were concerned with.  There’s always a number of smaller treaties which I’ve summarized here.  The Jedi have also retrieved four new children that have already been accepted to the creche.

Tor Vizsla studied the map.  “We need to keep up the pressure on Mereel’s Dar’Manda’ade.  The hut’uun’ade will fall easily enough.”

Pre Vizsla glanced at the galactic map, “Why hasn’t Montross been able to give us anything useful?”

“He’s been tasked with overseeing the training camp north of Keldabe while Mereel deals with a new merchant or something like that south of Hutt space.  Apparently, the planet has a moon that might be another source of bacta.”

The two men laughed and Pre tapped his vambraces.  “As if Thyferra would allow anywhere else to grow bacta. You think we should dispatch an assassin team to investigate, maybe take a shot of decapitating the heads of the Dar’Manda’ade?”

Tor shrugged, “We’re gaining strength in our mine and our recruitment drives are churning out fodder.  Many of the fodder will embrace the tenants in time. Send a message to Montross, have him alert us when Mereel sends him the current hideout.”

Pre Vizsla and Lorka Gedyc saluted and left.  Tor Vizsla pulled up an image of Jaster Mereel and smiled cruelly as he envisioned the various ways Jaster could die. “Soon.”

Pong Krell tapped the communicator and a barabel woman appeared and inclined her head. “Master Krell.”

“The Council has decreed that Kerj Shebs not follow up on the bacta smugglers ever since Arrack dared threaten him.  I can’t officially assign you to follow up the trail of smugglers and bring them to justice.”

“Of course not.” 

“However, there are rumors of pirates along the Triellus Trade Route near Enarc and Naboo.  If your investigation happens to drift and you encounter smugglers, you are entitled to bring Republic justice and see them arrested for their crimes.”

“Arrested.”

“Smuggling is not a capital crime, Lania Vassic.”

“Of course, Master.”

“Should they resist however… use any necessary force to... hm, protect yourself.”

“I will, Master.  Remind my little brother to stay safe.”

“There are rumors, my apprentice, of forces moving outside our control.”

“I shall investigate, my master, and bring you the tidings.”

“See that you do…Darth Sideous.”

Chapter Text

Duke Leto slammed the report on the desk. “What is this?”

Thufir Hawat stood calmly, “The medical report on the two new mentats that collapsed.”

“I know that.” Duke Leto glared at the document. “Perhaps I should have been more precise. What is happening to the mentats? These are just the latest to collapse.”

“That’s correct.  The amount of information available on the galactic holonet is overwhelming the mentats assigned to analyze the possible planets to approach in alliances and which ones we need to be wary of.”

“What is your suggestion?”

Thufir Hawat sighed, “The logical solution is heresy.”

Duke Leto leaned back, “Heresy. By this you mean…”

“Droids.”

“Hm. Where is Lord Du Crion?”

“I believe he returned to Melidaan to oversee the new pump facility in action.”

“Request his presence at his earliest convenience for a private meeting.”

“Of course, your Grace.”

Xanatos disembarked his ship and strode to the thopter waiting for him.  At the palace, he nodded to the guards as he swept in.  “You asked to see me, your Grace.”

“Yes.”  Duke Leto waited until only Ben, Xanatos, Thufir Hawat, and Paul were alone in the room.  “Half a dozen mentats have collapsed with strokes.  There’s simply too much information for our mentats to absorb.”

“Which means?” Ben asked quietly.

“We need thinking machines for analysis and information.”

Xanatos looked impressed at Duke Leto’s admission. “We call them droids in this universe.”  Duke Leto skewered him with an unimpressed look and Xanatos sketched a quick salute in the air. “Just trying to help.”

“Well, if you want to help, can you secure droids for us?”

“What kind of droids?”

“Whatever kind would be most useful.  I’ll leave that to your discretion.”

“Information and analysis only or would you like droids that can perform manual labor?”

Duke Leto frowned, “We don’t need a riot. Just droids that can provide the mentats with condensed information and help with analysis.”

“Of course, that’ll be easy enough.”

Thufir Hawat blinked, “You already have a droid manufacturer?”

“I do.  The Young are going to be relying heavily on droid labor since the Vratix would prefer to focus on their own communities and the actual production of bacta. I already have a large order placed on behalf of the Young to phase out your soldiers doing the manual labor in the pump station. By your leave?” Duke Leto nodded and Xanatos turned with a flourish of his cape.

Xanatos tapped the comm and waited for the figure to materialize in front of him.  “Hello, Archduke Poggle.  I would like to increase my order to include a BRT supercomputer.”

“If you have the credits, the hive will be happy to manufacture anything for you.”

Jaster strode to the throne room where two guards were holding a helmetless Mandalorian in place.  The warrior inclined its head and its photorecepters flickered, “My apologies, Mand’alor.” 

“Don’t apologize.”  Jaster glared at the soldiers holding the Mandalorian, “Release my warrior.”

Duke Leto entered and swept the situation with his gaze.  “Your name, machine.”

The droid tilted its head, “E’tad, Duke.”

Duke Leto gestured, “Release E’tad.  Mand’alor, E’tad, Thufir, Gurney, follow me. Dismissed!” 

The Atreides soldiers looked skeptical, but released E’tad.

Assembled in a small room, Jaster took his seat, “Can you explain why E’tad was arrested?”

Thufir Hawat answered, “There is a ban on thinking machines throughout the Padishah Empire and Duke Leto continued that ban on Arrakis.”

Jaster blinked, “Well, that’s stupid.”

Duke Leto smiled tightly at his bluntness, “You haven’t had a droid uprising then.”

Jaster leaned back, “We have.  The Republic had the great uprising and there’s been a smattering of smaller ones over the years.”

“How do you prevent droid uprisings?” 

“Well, the republic installs restraining bolts on their droids and performs regular memory wipes.  The Mando’ade go the opposite, encouraging each droid to adhere to the Resol’nare with no restraining bolts or memory wipes.  We tend not to build many droids though as a result, but E’tad is a member of the Ade be Kyradyc from Concord Dusk.”

Thufir blinked, “I do not recall Concord Dusk on the list of habitable planets in Mandalorian space.”

E’tad spoke, “It’s not. The Republic attacked Concord Dusk first and their warships rained fire from the sky in the Dral’han.  The slaughter on Concord Dusk, the screams of the children… Primarch Or’Trikar risked his immortality to broadcast the final moments of our planet.  The rest of the Republic fleet was sickened by the images and the haunting screams of the dying ade .”

“That’s why Mandalore itself is only half glassed.  The Dral’han wasn’t completed and so any true Mandalorian owes a debt to the Kyraryc’ade .  Also, it is members of the Kyraryc’ade who have infiltrated Khazad-Ruus, it’s the Kyraryc’ade who have captured seven Death Watch thugs and interrogated them for their information, it’s the Kyraryc’ade who have mapped out the air vents, entrances, and sentry routes of the mine.  You don’t have to like them, but you will treat them with the same respect as any organic Mando’ade.”

Duke Leto nodded, “Thufir, have it promulgated that any thinking machines, droids, that are part of the Mando’ade are to be granted a ducal exemption to the ban on Arrakis.”

“Your Grace?”

Duke Leto turned, “Yes?”

“Duncan Idaho requests your presence and that of your family in the banquet hall.”

“Is Ben on planet?”

“He is, Your Grace.”

“Have my sons attend me in the banquet hall in armor.”

The page saluted and moved hastily to complete his task.

Duncan Idaho stood with a group of Fremen before inclining his head and striding to where Duke Leto entered with a small entourage.  

“There’s been a slight issue, Your Grace.” Duke Leto nodded and gestured for Duncan to continue.  “The Fremen question why none of your blood are going on this mission.  They are leery about leaving Arrakis for the first time.”

Duke Leto frowned, “I have the negotiations to host here and Paul is slated to visit the desert with Stilgar and his tribe.  Jessica is pregnant, she cannot lead anyone into battle.”

“Surely Paul can come with us rather than with Stilgar.” A Fremen leader glanced over at Paul.  “He can visit the sietches after proving himself in combat with us.”

Stilgar scowled at the other Fremen leader, “Zifir, Paul is presenting the Fremen with an underground lake on behalf of House Atriedes.  I will not jeopardize that much water for a gesture.”

Zifir snarled, “They gift water abundantly, but demand our bodies’ water in a war that matters little to us.”

Stilgar’s scowl deepened, “Is it not worth the risk? My sietch has not lacked for water and many of my own warriors will volunteer to fight alongside Duncan Idaho.  I do not need the Water Duke nor his son to risk their own water to prove their worth.”

Zifir stepped forward and the two began furiously arguing.

Ben shifted over to Paul and spoke with a quiet murmur, “What’s going on?”

Chani leaned behind Paul and spoke quietly, “Zifir is an influential leader and believes that a Fremen leader needs to be willing to risk his own life water before commanding others.  Many Fremen will be swayed by his beliefs and the recruiting numbers are going to be skewed.  If all of the tribes that Zifir influences refuse to send warriors, Stilgar will need to keep a fair number of his own warriors back otherwise there could be dramatic power shifts.”

Ben frowned, “But Stilgar is allied with my father.  Surely that counts for something?”

“To a degree it does, but the Water Duke has been so profligate with his gifts, most tribes have a three year supply for the first time.  Zifir might take a chance that he can expand his tribes at Stilgar’s expense if Stilgar is significantly weakened.”

“The water won’t hold his loyalty?”

“Do not mistake gratitude for loyalty.  The water will buy gratitude, but respect?  Not without the Water Duke being willing to risk his own water or that of his son.”

“He has two.” Ben placed two fingers and blew a piercing whistle. The room fell silent and everyone looked at Ben. “Zifir, my name is Ben Atreides, General of the Young, Legate of Clawmouse Legion, a Trilord of Melidaan, and second son of Duke Leto Atreides.  I have not the skill nor experience to risk the mission by traversing the desert with you, but if you lead the desert expedition with Duncan Idaho, Clawmouse Legion will be the first legion on the ground.  We will risk our water together for the glory of Arrakis.”

Cerasi bit her knuckles with tears in her eyes as she fought to not say anything.  

Duke Leto examined his son’s face. “Ben… are you sure?”

“I’ve lived through a war where I had to keep children from being killed by their parents.  Leading elite warriors against glory-seeking child kidnappers?  I’ll lead the charge with honor.”

Duke Leto nodded and turned back to Zifir.  “Satisfied?”

“You don’t risk your own water?”

Stilgar growled, “He lets his son volunteer and you question his own bravery.”

Duke Leto chopped his hand down. “A Duke’s life is never his own.  I have many obligations that I must personally oversee.  I cannot risk the time to travel, battle, and return, but if you want to test my willingness to risk my own water, challenge me to amtal and find out.”

Zifir laughed, “There’s the roaring flood.”  He turned to his lieutenants, “Send word to my tribes that I will be going to war with the Water Duke’s son.  Who will risk their life’s water with us!?!”

Montross scowled as he paced the building.  He was tired of sitting around in the training camp and wanted some action.  A knock sounded at the door and Montross yanked the door open, “What?”

“The Mand’alor called.  He wants as many warriors that have completed training to go to the Cavadine sector and to bring as many slugthrowers from the reserves as possible.”

“Slugthrowers?”

“Yes, alor!”

“Start gathering the weapons.  I will send the acknowledgement myself.”  

Montross strode out and the young Mandalorian stepped aside quickly to avoid being hit. Arriving at the comm terminal, he nodded at the Mandalorian manning the comms and she nodded back before returning.  Montross opened a channel to Jaster while simultaneously keying a unique code that would activate a relay in one of the local holonet hyperspace transmitters.  It was useful enough for his messages to his true loyalty while leaving no trace of anything unless the True Mandalorians happened to hack the one satellite that cloned the message and sent it to Death Watch.

“Mand’alor.  Where are we reporting to?”

“Cavadine Sector. Set course for Melida/Daan and we’ll give you more precise directions when you arrive.”

“Why do you need the slugthrowers?”

Mereel opened his mouth and then hesitated, “I’ll tell you when you get here.”

Montross scowled, “Don’t you trust me?”

“I trust you, Montross, but I don’t trust the holonet relays. I’ll see you in a few days.”

Pre Vizsla and Lorka Gedyc entered the command chamber of Khazad-Ruus with a slight electronic buzz as they passed through the scrambler field and the heavy blast door sealed behind them. Tor Vizsla gestured, “Watch this.” 

The three watched as Mereel and Montross spoke.

“Well, we know where Mereel is, but we don’t know where they plan to strike or what they’re doing.” Pre murmured.

Lorka shrugged, “Who cares? It’s not us if they’re going with antique slugthrowers.  Blasters will shred them.”

Tor stared at the empty table and twisted the knob back to show Mereel.  Studying the ghostly figure silently for a while, he shook his head. “Mereel is planning something.”

Lorka snorted, “It’s probably a new contract on Jabiim or some planet where blasters get kriffed up.”

“We’ve had ten blood-sworn go AWOL inside this mine. Now Mereel summons his newest trainees with slugthrowers.  We’re missing something.”

Pre nodded. “We can increase sentries.” 

“Triple the Watch on the west and south sides. Send a few extra eyes to the east side in case they stowaway on cargo ships.”

Pre nodded, “Anything to the North?

“No, the desert will eradicate anyone before they get to us.  Still I need to do something about the Dar’mando’ade…”

Lorka shrugged, “Send a strike team or an assassin to go after Merell.”

Tor nodded slowly, “Dispatch an assassin. The Farmer.”

“The mental conditioning might not stick.” Pre warned the two.

“Bah. Recondition the Farmer again and get a ship prepared.  Primary target will be Mereel of course, but any leadership targets would be acceptable.”

“Mereel’s kid?”

“Of course. Fett getting killed by the Farmer would have a certain poetry to it.” Tor smiled cruelly.  “Death to the Dar’Mando’ade.”

The other two hammered off a salute, “Death to the Dar’Mando’ade!”

Chapter Text

The Mandalorian ships reverted to realspace in front of a desert planet with two dull moons and a third painted in vibrant greens and blues.  The massive cylindrical ship floating above dispatched two small fighters and opened a tight beam communication channel, “Head down to the surface, Mand’alor Mereel has arranged transportation to the palace.  Observe op-sec and comms blackout.

Montross quickly walked away from the starry-eyed recruits and experienced warriors as Mereel hopped off the briefing stage.  If this plan went off, it would shatter Death Watch as an effective fighting force if not annihilate it completely.

Weaving his way through the palace and guided in the right direction by a helpful servant, he finally saw the door to the communications room.  Two Atreides soldiers guarded it and they studied him with a slightly bored expression.  As he approached, the door swung open and a woman and a young girl started out, locked in conversation., “- is looking forward to the new school opening in a month and we have teacher droids lined up, I can finally study-” 

The young girl froze as the woman lifted her hand to cut her off and addressed Montross.  “Su cuy'gar, Mandalorian.  I don’t believe we’ve met, are you part of the new arrivals from Mandalore.”

“Yes.”

One of the guards made an aborted step forward before settling and the servant flinched. The woman lifted her hands, “Peace, peace. He knows not our ways nor who I am.”  She looked at Montross directly, “I am Lady Jessica Atreides of the Bene Gesserit and wife to Duke Leto.”

Montross inclined his head, “Montross, my lady.”

“It is a pleasure meeting you, Montross, what brings you to the communications room? Did Mand’alor Mereel send you?”

“No, my lady.  As his lieutenant, just some routine messages to those who remained on Mandalore.”

Jessica nodded slowly, “You are a lieutenant in the Haat Mando’ade?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“How long?”

“As a one of Mereel’s lieutenants? Nearly ten years now.”

“I’m sure Mereel depends on your absolute loyalty and dedication.”

“He does.”

Jessica smiled as she brushed something off her left shoulder, “It’s so hard finding loyalty these days.”

The servant turned and left quickly.  The guards had tensed slightly in their armor and were now primed for action; Montross admired their understated reaction, but he was raised in an armored culture, he knew they were just waiting for an opening.

“Well, my lady,” he ejected his vibroblade and erupted forward.

“ FREEZE. ” 

Montross felt his body stop abruptly and Jessica took two steps back, guiding the young redhead back as the guards flanked him with drawn swords, held loosely. 

“I’m sorry that it has come to this.  Guards, manacle him and bring him to the dungeon.”

Montross grimly gathered his thoughts and remembered a half-forgotten scrap of information from an ancient fighting manual for fighting jetti and dar'jetti.  Sharpening his pain and rage, he mentally envisioned a spear forming from his thoughts and hurled it at Jessica.  She flinched and the hold loosened for a second.  He smacked one guard with his helmet in his right hand, sending him staggering back. His left arm fired a dart into the 2nd guard’s throat and he seated the helmet and muted the audio output.  Seeing the first guard starting to shimmer, he blocked the sword with a vambrace and grabbed for the guard’s throat. It took two tries before his hands slipped through the shield, but as soon he felt the guard’s throat, he activated his crushgaunt and felt armor, flesh, and bone crumple in his hand. He turned to see Jessica’s mouth frantically moving and he sent her to the ground with a swift backhand. He stood near her crumpled form and ejected his vibroblade, “Now die, witch.” 

His HUD suddenly stuttered a blasterfire alert and Montross drew his blaster while tucking a bit to show the most armor in the direction of the new threat. The HUD flickered a movement alert from behind him and he fired two shots over his shoulder as he stared at the comms room as his HUD registered blasterfire, but he saw nothing.  His right leg flared with agony and his left leg jerked hard.. Glancing down, he saw another young woman with vibrant blue eyes, a bloody knife, and an arm wrapped around his leg that had arrested her slide.  The HUD stuttered the blasterfire alert again and his instinctive flinch gave the young woman the opening to cut the muscles behind his left knee and roll away.  Collapsing to his knees, he looked down to see bare floor in front of him, Jessica having used the young woman’s attack as a distraction to retreat. He fired a dart at her, but it glanced off her full-body shield.  The back of his shoulders flared one after the other and he collapsed on the ground, bleeding from four wounds. The blue-eyed woman knelt and twisted his helmet off before he could think to activate his weapons.

Chani stood and stepped back.  She had crippled the Mandalorian thanks to the sound of blasterfire, that had been fun when Paul took her to the range with Vau to learn to shoot blasters and slugthrowers, but she didn’t think anyone had blasters this far in the palace.  “I’ve got him down, you can come out.”  

Cerasi emerged from the radio room with a slingshot held gingerly in her hands and Chani frowned, “Where’s your blaster?”

“I gave it up.  I’ve spent too long at war.”

“Who was shooting?”

“Oh, that’s a decoy.” She hefted her slingshot proudly.  “I’ve always carry slingshot ammo that mimics blasterfire.  We used them in our war against the Elders.”

“A decoy?” Chani laughed and the Mandalorian groaned.

Jessica stood up and looked at Chani. Chani met her gaze evenly. Jessica nodded once before turning to the Mandalorian.  “ TELL ME WHO YOU WORK FOR.”

The Mandalorian snarled, “The True Mandalorians.”

“ WHERE DO YOUR TRUE LOYALTIES LIE?”

The Mandalorian growled and Jessica flinched, “Montross, I’m impressed that you can fight back, but it is ultimately pointless.  Tell me what I want to know or I will compel it out of you over time.”

“Fine, witch.” Montross spat in Jessica’s direction, “I’m loyal to Tor Vizsla and the true heirs of the crusaders.  Death Watch shall rise again.”

Cerasi stormed forward, “You were going to warn them and get your own warriors killed! You were going to get BEN killed!”  She snatched the knife from Chani’s hand and stood trembling.

“Go ahead, little girl.  Cut my throat and feel my blood gush out.  You know you want to.”  

Jessica moved to Cerasi, “My dear… you chose the title peacekeeper because you said you were tired of killing, that you wanted to choose a different path.  Give the knife back to Chani. This isn’t you.”

Cerasi turned jerkily and passed the knife to Chani before collapsing against her, “I could have lost Ben to a traitor and never have known!” 

Chani patted her back and whispered calming words in her native tongue as she shepherded her sister - the marriage between Cerasi and Ben was basically a done deal and they had fought together, they were sisters - down the hall to get some food and sleep.

Jessica stood as she watched her daughters-in-law leave the hall and Montross laughed, “Little girl didn’t have the gett’se to kill me.”

“She has seen enough war and death. She’s not that kind of woman.”  Jessica produced her own crys-knife and knelt next to Montross. “I am.”  Her knife slashed across his throat, blood and air exploding from the sudden rupture. As Montross’s choking grasps slowed and his eyes started glazing over, she murmured, “No one threatens my sons.”

Olan Vigg lifted his helmet and stared out in the desert where nothing moved and nothing ever would.  “Hey, Joha, did you hear that another blood-sworn went missing today?”

“Another one? Kriff that. You think Mand’alor Vizsla will sweep the lower levels?”

“Maybe. I’m just glad we’re out here where nothing ever happens.”  He heard a sputtering cough behind him and he chuckled, “Shab, drink your tihaar, don’t inhale it.” He turned to see a figure clad in a suit from head to toe, holding a dripping knife.  He drew a breath before a cold line hissed across his neck.  He simultaneously felt a warm liquid washing under his kute and a pervasive chill spreading through his body.  As he started to fall, he was caught and lowered to the ground.  As darkness closed around him and the stars began to fade, he thought he saw an army descending from the stars and he thought I should probably let my sergeant know about this…when I wake up…I just…need…to…

Ben checked his armor for the fourth time as the converted grain transport approached the atmosphere of Concordia.  Gurney Halleck tapped his internal comm system on his helmet and locked it to the commander’s channel, “Ben, relax.  The men take their cues from you.”

Ben flinched. “It’s hard leading adults.”

“They trust you.”

“I know, but I’m still used to being the oldest and having to guard everyone. Also…”

“Every adult was the enemy.”

Ben nodded once.

The comm channel from the pilot blinked open. “Duncan Idaho sends his regards.  Mountain top secured.  Four minutes to drop.”

Gurney gripped Ben’s shoulder and switched his channel to the Clawmouse Legion universal channel and hummed to catch a tune.  “Well, a Harkon’n knife wouldn’t do us any harm, a harkon’n knife wouldn’t do us any harm, a harkon’n knife wouldn’t do us any harm and we’ll all hang on behind!”

The legion joined in for the chorus, some singing while others dropped to hold the drone, “Annnd we’ll roll the old chariot along! we’ll roll the old chariot along! we’ll roll the old chariot along! And we’ll all hang on behind!”

Gurney took the verse alone, “Well, a Caladan wave wouldn’t do us any harm, a Caladan wave wouldn’t do us any harm, a Caladan wave wouldn’t do us any harm and we’ll all hang on behind!”

The legion rejoined, “Annnd we’ll roll the old chariot along! we’ll roll the old chariot along! we’ll roll the old chariot along! And we’ll all hang on behind!”

“Well, landing on Arrakis wouldn’t do us any harm, landing on Arrakis wouldn’t do us any harm, landing on Arrakis wouldn’t do us any harm and we’ll all hang on behind!”

The voices swelled again “Annnd we’ll roll the old chariot along! we’ll roll the old chariot along! we’ll roll the old chariot along! And we’ll all hang on behind!”

“Legion, stand ready!”

Ben turned as they snapped to attention, “Clawmouse Legion! I asked that my legion be comprised of volunteers only. You have answered my call; now I ask once more, who will follow me to eradicate Death Watch root and stem?” The legion snapped their fists to the shoulders with a metallic Clang!   “Who will stand with me against those who seek brainwash children into suicidal fanatics?” Clang! “For honor!” Clang! “For the death of our enemies!” Clang! “For Duke Leto and House Atreides!” Clang! Clang! Clang! 

The lights turned green and Ben drew his sword, traced the Atreides salute to his legion, and fell backwards through the large opening that had appeared in the floor behind Ben.

Gurney drew his sword, “For the Legate and legion, advance!” 

“Clawmouse! Clawmouse! Clawmouse!” Soundless to an outside observer, the legion advanced off the large grain ship, descending silently from the night sky.

E’tad cocked his head, “Jaster, do you want the latest reports from Concordia while we are waiting for the microjump?”

Jaster nodded, drumming his fingers on the bridge of his ship.

E’tad’s photorecepters flickered, “All Kyraryc’ade in the mine have gone into stand-by mode and have been quiet for the last twenty-four hours.  Security cameras were hacked and a small team is standing by the mine’s manual air control system, we’ll have complete control of air in the mine.”

“Any word from the Primarch Or’Trikar? Will he answer the call of the Mand’alor?”

E’tad shook his head, “Primarch Or’Trikar is fine with letting individual Kyraryc’ade swear fealty, but as a whole, Primarch Or’Trikar will not swear until the ancient rights of the Mand’alor have been completed.”

“It all comes down to the Darksaber, doesn’t it?” Jaster sighed and E’tad shifted.  The comm blinked and Jaster toggled the switch, hearing several armorers intone a tone before the song started.

Of legend and myth

Is the craft of the smith

The molten metal poured

And pounded into sword

From the fire is made

Every mando axe and blade

When the hammer falls

When the hammer falls

Forging weapons for all

When the hammer falls

Songs of battle fill the halls

When the hammer flies

Lines of armored verde arise

With the hammer's roar

We go marching off to war

When the hammer falls

When the hammer falls

The Cathar came to our land

And we fought them hand to hand

Sweat and blood

Turned the groud to mud

Cathar and Verde in strife

Sought to vanquish every life

When the hammer falls

When the hammer falls

Back our enemy crawls

When the hammer quakes

Cathar cowards bones will break

When the hammer cracks

And it beats their armies back

When the hammer's boom

Sends the monsters to their doom

When the hammer falls

When the hammer falls

When the hammer falls

Then our victory calls

When the hammer falls

Songs of glory fill the halls

When the hammer flies

Mighty heroes now arise

With the hammer's sound

Live the Mando’ade Renowned

When the hammer falls

When the hammer falls

Arla sat in her dropship suspended in the bowels of the Highliner, listening to the old Mandalorian crusader song that rang through the fleet.  The memories of her father fixing machinery around the farm while singing the ancient song flooded around the painful fixation, YOU WILL KILL JASTER MEREEL.  She shuddered against the pain, but remembered it was Jaster’s fault her parents were dead, it was Jaster’s fault they weren’t living on the farm, and it was most certainly Jaster’s fault that her vod’ika was dead. 

The stars suddenly regained their form and the dropships poured out, familiar Mandalorian ships alongside unfamiliar balloon-winged dropships.  Arla navigated down, her breath catching as they flowed down toward her base.  She remembered Pre Vizsla’s orders about not breaking cover for any reason and resolved to get as close as she could to Jaster Mereel and finally avenge her baby brother.

Chapter Text

Tor Vizsla opened the door and strode into the command center.  Pre looked at him, “Something wrong, buir?”

Tor nodded. “I can’t place it.  The loss of our blood-sworn, the Dar’mando’ade recall… Jaster is up to something.

Pre opened his mouth as if to answer, but froze looking at the air vents hissing a blue gas.  “Buy’ce!”

All the Death Watch secured their helmets and Tor hit the alarm to wake the base.

Ben looked up at the massive highliner vomiting ships into the atmosphere, but the alarm whooping in the mountain drew his attention and he positioned himself near one of the entrances. “Clawmouse Legion, you are soldiers of House Atreides.  Hold fast!

The door opened and a Death Watch warrior ran out, looking up at the enormous ship blotting out the stars.  With his gaze fixed on the threats above, he missed the immediate threat as his run was arrested violently as Ben simultaneously body-checked the warrior and stabbed him through a gap in his armor.  As the warrior fell, Ben wrapped him in the force and hurled the corpse into the mine.  A ringing of beskar on beskar sounded and Ben held his bloody sword up before pointing at the entrance now fully engulfed in blue smoke, “Forward, Clawmouse! For House Atreides!”

With the cries of Atreides! Atreides! Atreides! sounding behind him, Ben led the charge into the mine. 

The ventral doors opened as the ground whipped by.  Jango counted down, “ ehn, t’ad, solus,   oya, oya, oya !” The Mandalorians dropped out of the Kom’rk gunships, freefalling towards the blue smoking holes.  Jango spotted four Death Watch members flying over House Atreides.  One suddenly fell as the jetpack ripped itself off, former jetti’ad down there,  Jango thought and drew both pistols.  Twin shots popped two jetpacks and gravity claimed two more victims.  The fourth Death Watch member hovered, shooting down at the shielded Atreides soldiers until Jango fell past him, wrapping his arms around the Death Watch warrior’s neck, jerked him down, and then fired his jet pack, floating down the last few meters after he dropped the Death Watch soldier with the fractured neck.  He drew his slugthrower and moved through the crowd to the entrance of the mine, shrugging off two weakened blaster shots before returning fire, the accurate slugs tearing bloody furrows in the gaps of the Death Watch’s armor.

Tor strode into the training hall and ripped the helmet off one of the chaff there.  The child swallowed in fear, but stayed upright. Pre looked confused,  “The gas doesn’t appear to be fatal or soporific, why are they pumping so much in?” 

Tor stood and then understanding dawned.  He pulled his blaster and shot the child at the end of the line. Everyone gasped as the child staggered, but then straightened, the cheap iron armor scorched, but unbroken.  Tor swore and Pre murmured, “LDA grenades?” 

“Just the aerosol.  Blasters are useless in the mines and our entrances are overrun.” He looked over the blood-sworn sergeant in charge of the chaff.  “Give them vibroblades and grenades; have them charge the dar’mando’ade.   Pre, with me.”

Jaster landed and strode to the newly established command post.  The holographic mine was illustrated with several sections held by the Kyraryc’ade, joint strike teams rappelling down the mine to reinforce them while the Atreides legions took the lead on the slow push through the main entrances.  “Mand’alor! Tanker ships have landed over the vents and more LDA is being pumped into the mine.  Optimum saturation has been achieved and we’re holding steady.” 

Tor activated the comms, “Lorka, do you have a slugthrower team ready?”

“Yep, we’re about to launch an ambush. Stand-by.”

THUNT-THUNT-THUNT - - - PING-PING-PING-PING-PING. 

“Ambush.” Ben drawled. He reached out in the Force, seized one of the Death Watch, yanked him to where Ben stood, and stabbed his blade through the warrior’s throat.  As the warrior collapsed, Gurney was already directing other soldiers to charge the Death Watch positions.

Lorka’s voice came back on, panting. “We can’t…can’t get past their shields.  I lost… fifteen blood-sworn in the… the failed ambush.”

Tor closed his eyes, “ Ba’slan shev’la - we need to scatter, hide, and regroup.”  He turned to Pre, “Head down to the secondary command post and destroy it.  I’ll destroy the primary command post. Lorka…”

“I understand.  We’ll hold the line as long as possible.  Only the strongest shall rule Mandalore.”

“Only the strongest shall rule Mandalore. Your sacrifice will be remembered.”

Arla walked with purpose, the words YOU WILL KILL JASTER MEREEL ringing in her head.  She spotted his red cape in a make-shift command post and turned towards it.

Jango scanned the latest wave and the crude iron armor pinged an alert in his HUD.  “Ade! ADE! STUN! STUN! STUN!”

The wave of children hit the mixed Mandalorian-Atreides lines and the front rank was swamped with Death Watch kids desperately fighting against adults balancing the tightrope between holding back and not getting shanked.  Jango watched Ben rip the knives out of three kids' hands simultaneously before one of them struck a classic akalenedat pose and kicked Ben in the chest.  Ben staggered back and frowned as Gurney and several guards shielded him. He lifted the kid in the air with a gesture and flicked his fingers to remove every piece of armor simultaneously.  Jango’s HUD, loaded with a passive bounty hunting facial program, suddenly lit up.

“Haar’chaak!” Jango lunged forward and fired a tranquilizer dart. He scooped up the slight girl and yelled an explanation to Ben and Myles following him.  Ben saluted him and gestured for Myles to reorganize the commandos.  A small detachment followed as they jogged to the main hall before igniting their jetpacks, racing through the air until they had to drop to fit through the tunnel to the main entrance.

Jaster turned and looked back behind him.  Something was wrong.  Suddenly a Mandalorian woman approaching the command post fired two sets of whistling birds and a jet-pack mounted missile before unslinging twin scythes and charging.

The series of missiles flattened the command post around Mereel and Arla charged in, but her rapid slashes were expertly parried by Mereel’s beskad.  She lost one of her scythes and switched to a powerful two-handed chopping attack trying to smash through Mereel’s defenses.  She battered at his sword again, again, again, and again, finally striking the sword out of his hand.  

Suddenly with the speed of a shriek-hawk, his left hand struck in a powerful slap that sent her reeling.  A kick jarred one hand off her blade and Mereel disarmed her with a twist of one arm.  She threw a punch, but Mereel counter-punched to the inside of her elbow.  Before she could even bring up her other arm, Mereel sent an armored knee to her gut and sent her staggering back. 

She lifted her arm to fire her darts, but Mandalorians and gray-armored figures were shimmering as they rose around her. Grappled and forced to her knees, fingers clawed around her neck until the seals unhooked with a hiss.

Mereel looked at the young woman glaring at him with absolute hate. He sighed, “ Udessi. ” 

“Don’t you dare tell me to relax, dar’manda hutt’un !”

The shee-shunk of ejecting blades echoed around them and Mereel lifted his hands. “Relax.” He examined her, “I’ve called far worse by better.  Don’t you remember what Jango called me during his feral period?”

She lunged attempting to bite him.  “Don’t you dare speak his name.”

“Who? Jango?”  He stood his ground as she attempted to shake off the Mandalorians holding her.

“That was my vod’ika and you killed him! He died in a ditch because of you! You don’t get to speak his name!”

Jaster’s eyes widened and he knelt.  “What is your name?”

She glared at him, “ Naasad. ”

“I don’t think so.  I think you are -”

“Arla?”  Jango’s voice sounded quiet and teary even through the helmet. He shucked his helmet and dumped the girl into one of his escort’s arms before running and sliding to his knees in front of the assassin. “Arla? You’re alive?

“ Vod’ika ? Little brother? How?”

“I could ask the same question. You were dead.  I saw your body and you crumbled into ash when I held you.” 

“I was dragged away before Jaster set the field ablaze and burned everyone.”

“Jaster didn’t burn the fields.  Death Watch set them ablaze to flush us out.  I was with the True Mandalorians.”

“The True Mandalorians, bah! Vizsla has the Darksaber and rules Mandalore!”

“Isn’t he the one who claims to respect strength, but has never answered Jaster’s challenges?”

Arla looked confused, “He wouldn’t?”

“He’s ignored them and he sent you to try to kill Jaster, didn’t he?

“Ye-es…”

“Is that the mark of a good leader?”

“I…I…I…” Her eyes took on a hunted look and her mouth foamed as she tried to break away, snapping furiously before Jaster stepped forward and poked her with a tranquilizer.”

“ Udessi. ” 

Lorka fired his slugthrower several times before his comm crackled.  “It’s behind us! We’re being flanked! Run if you-” A horrific rending sound and then a wet crunch sounded before the comm cut off.

Death Watch was silent for a few seconds before someone spoke, “Was that beskar?”

Ben stood quietly as they prepped to storm the room.  With the charges set, he called in  “Do you want to surrender?”

A gruff Mandalorian voice called out, “Hutts will fly before we surrender.” 

Ben looked at his gleaming blade and the bloody cloth attached to his belt that he had been cleaning his sword with in between fights.  “Once we fight, we’re not taking prisoners.  Surrender now and you’ll live and may have a chance at cin vhetin .”

“We are Mandalorians and-”

< NO, YOU ARE NOT! DAR’MANDA, DAR’MANDA, RIP AND REND LIMB FROM LIMB!> 

Ben froze and all the Mandalorians outside with him stiffened in shock.

Gurney looked at Ben, “General?”

“There’s something in there.” Ben said softly.

Lorka turned in shock. “What was that?”

A deep reverberating growl sounded.  <OH, OH, DAR’MANDA, DAR’MANDA, WHERE ARE YOU GOING TO RUN…>

Lorka turned and his warriors started looking in the room when suddenly one of the Death Watch vanished into the blue mist.  SHHHEEEERIIIKKKKKK-CRUNCH-CRUNCH crunch- a long silence and then a slow drip.  .   .  drip .   .  . drip sounded. Lorka spun and that grating voice sounded in his head, <YOU COULD MAKE THIS A CHALLENGE>

Something moved in the mist and another Death Watch warrior dropped.  Lorka skidded over and stared in horror at the gashes rent through the armor.  A muffled curse sounded over the comms as the thing prowled through the mist, picking off the warriors one by one until just Lorka remained.  He crawled into a gap in the stone and closed his eyes.  To die in battle was one thing, but hunted… this was something.
<OPEN YOUR EYES, DAR’MANDA. YOU HAVE BEEN JUDGED AND FOUND… WANTING.>  

Lorka opened his eyes and met the predator’s deep gold eyes. The skin was almost reptilian, but the armored scales had flesh underneath and the blood-stained teeth and…

The teeth flashed forward and beskar caved with a flash of pain and then.  . . nothing.

Ben listened carefully.  “Whatever’s in there is alive and absolutely shredding Death Watch. Don’t blow the door yet.”

<WELL, THIS IS INTERESTING. . . MANDALORIANS AND ANOTHER TRIBE THAT I DON’T RECOGNIZE.  MANDOKARLA, THOUGH.> 

<Hello, there> Ben reached out.  < May I have the honor of learning your name?>

<YOU MAY NOT.  TO NAME SOMETHING IS HAVE AUTHORITY OVER IT AND I RECOGNIZE NO AUTHORITY OVER ME.>

<Do we have your permission to continue sweeping the caves for Death Watch and to search for children to rescue?>

<BEFORE THIS HAPPENS. . . I SENSE SOMETHING ON THE SURFACE. . . SOMETHING I HAVEN’T FELT IN A LONG TIME. BRING ME THE LEADER OF THE PROPER MANDALORIANS NOT THESE ARROGANT PERVERTED DAR’MANDA SCUM>

Ben tapped his communicator, “Mereel?”

“Go for Mereel.”

“You’re needed in the mine.  You specifically, no delegates.”

Jaster jogged down and stood by the door.  “What is it?”

“I’m not sure,” Ben admitted.  “It tore apart the Death Watch, but then asked for you.”

E’tad stuck his probe under the door before stiffening, “Mand’alor, permission to borrow a long-range comm link?”

“Of course.”  Jaster looked puzzled, but resigned.  “Is there a chance I could die?”

“Slim, but unlikely.”

“I’m not sensing anything threatening, just the satisfied contentment of a predator after a successful hunt.”

Jaster nodded.  “Fair enough.”  He went to push the door open, but one of his lieutenants stopped him. “Mand’alor. Permit us to enter first.”

<I THINK NOT.>  The mental purr rattled the Mandalorians and Ben.  <WHILE YOUR MANDOKARLA IS ADMIRABLE, IT IS ONLY THE CLAIMANT FOR MAND’ALOR THAT I WISH TO SEE.>

Jaster nodded and strode in.  The door closed behind him and he muted the audio as he stood stock-still amid the broken bodies and rent beskar.  The silence grew and grew, until a majestic creature emerged from the blue mist.  Four-legged,  armored scales over fur, and two long protruding tusks that led to a mouth of blood-stained teeth.
Jaster hissed in recognition, “It is an honor to be in the presence of a creature such as yourself.  None of your kind have been seen for generations.” 

The creature nodded. <BOW.>

“No. Mandalorians bow to no one.”

<BOW OR FIGHT.>

Jaster stiffened, “I will not bow, but a fight is senseless as my loss will hurt the true Mandalorians while a win deprives the galaxy of one of its last….”

<BOW OR FIGHT!>

Jaster sighed and drew his beskad and a knife while activating his shield. “Then I’ll fight.”

There was a satisfied huff before, <GOOD.  WISDOM YET BESKAR. I PRONOUNCE YOU MAND’ALOR THE AUTHOR, WITH THE BLESSING OF THE MYTHOSAUR!>

Chapter Text

Dooku bowed his head as Duke Leto stood up, “Impossible.  Kerj Shebs murdered my men and I turned him over to face justice.  Did you agree with this decision?”

“As a council member, I am required to support the High Council and present a united front to the Senate and galaxy.” 

“Not the question I asked.”

“You would ask me to violate my oaths?”

Leto closed his eyes as he sat heavily on the throne.  “Fair enough.”

“Myself and the other Jedi will need to be departing soon. We’ve trespassed on your hospitality long enough.”

“Not long enough for your archive master.”

“No, she’s haunted your library every day, hasn’t she?” 

“When she’s not interrogating my mentats.”

The two men smiled in amusement before the smile fell off Leto’s face. “Caution your Council for me.  I released him to face justice and I declared kanly against his lineage to keep them out of my territory.  Mand’alor Mereel has asked whether the Mandalorians are honor-bound to hunt down the members of that lineage. Ask your Council if I should seek justice on my own or whether Shebs will face justice?” 

“The Council will not respond well to threats.”

“They won’t like corpses on their doorstep either.”

“This is a bad idea, Quin.”

“Nah, it’ll be fine, Bant.  Just relax, it’ll be educational for you.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I want to learn these lessons, I’m a healer, not a shadow.  I don’t need this sneaky stuff.”

“Everybody needs to learn how to sneak, if only for joys and ease in launching pranks.” 

“I’m coming to keep you out of trouble, that's it.”

”Fair enough.”

Dooku activated his private comm and the assembled council appeared.  Dooku bowed his head. “Grandmaster and fellow councilors, I believe it is time for us to depart Arrakis.”  

“Have they agreed to become part of the Republic?”  Ki-Adi-Mundi asked with a frown.

“They have not.”

“We’ll just accept this?”

“Perhaps a Republic envoy will have more success.  Finding out that Kerj Shebs will not have any consequences levied has infuriated the Duke and as the rumors spread, Atreides will not look favorably on the Jedi.”

“What about the Friedman?”

“The Fremen? Too tightly intertwined with Atreides.”

“The Melida or the Daan?” 

“None of the Jedi have been permitted to go there.”

“You’ll accept their restrictions?”

“Considering we have two young padawans and we are only armed with our swords in a culture that values bladed prowess, I see no reason to jeopardize our lives by sneaking over.”

“Don’t you have three padawans there or did you forget your own?”

“I have not. Komari is ready for her trials.” He gestured and Komari stepped to the holoprojector’s view with a bow.

“Esteemed Council, I come before you seeking admission to my Trials.”

Xanatos walked onto the deck with Cerasi and Nield.  The Kom’rk landed smoothly and several soldiers disembarked with two stretchers.  Cerasi flinched and stepped forward.

Xanatos sighed. “Your boytoy is fine.”  

Cerasi froze, “Ex-cuse me?”

Xanatos smirked, “Your boytoy is piloting the ship.”  Xanatos’ danger sense flared and he turned just enough for Nield’s kidney punch to land on his side.  He glared, “Rude.”

“Isn’t that your brother that you’re mocking?”  Nield retorted.

“Don’t you know how brothers act?”

“I killed mine to save a toddler.”

Xanatos closed his eyes. “Fine.  Most healthy brotherly relationships are marked by teasing and pranks.”

Nield frowned, “Didn’t you enslave Ben?”

Xanatos smile gleamed, “I never claimed we had a healthy relationship.”

“Didn’t you just…”

The two fell silent at Cerasi’s cry, “ BEN!” and her dash across the platform.  Nield and Xanatos winced at the sound of Cerasi smacking into Ben’s armor.  Xanatos studied the two staring into each other’s eyes for … a rather long time.  Xanatos put his fingers in his mouth and whistled sharply.  The two snapped their attention to him as he spoke, “Either kiss or get a move on, your world is waiting.” 

Both of them blushed as Nield chuckled.  “Come on, Ben. Ignore your older brother and let’s inspect the new facility.  The droids arrived and we’re ready to start shipping.”

Ki-Adi-Mundi scowled, “Master Dooku, has she completed the assignments we gave you?”

“She has overcome her unfortunate infatuation, but no others. As I have stated previously, her skills in combat bolster her diplomacy rather than undermine it.  She participates regularly in the sparring rings here and many Mandalorians now have a favorable view of some Jedi practices as she discusses them with the Mandalorians and House Atreides.”

Mundi shook his head after looking at Master Yoda and his fellow dogmatists.  “Even if the full council is convened, the votes are against you.  Komari Vosa, we do not believe you have the temperament to become a Knight of the Jedi Order.  You are hereby ordered to report to the Coruscant Temple where you will be assessed for entrance in the Service Corps.

Xanatos studied the automated pumping facility that the Young had built under his direction from an observation tower.  HK-47 stepped up, “Statement: This facility is magnificent and meatbag-free.”

“Even the Vratix?”

“Statement: The Vratix are crunchy pus-pods. Statement: Despite the difference in categorization, the Vratix are not involved in this endeavor beyond delivery of bacta to the holding tanks.  With the new droids from Geonosis, this facility is completely automated.”

Xanatos frowned, “Then why did I sense something inside?”

Ben frowned in concentration before opening them in shock, “Son of a Sith. ” He vaulted over the railing and vanished into the facility.  Cerasi and Nield exchanged puzzled glances.

Xanatos stared at his younger brother’s disappearance.  “HK, I think we have company. Go find them, will you?  Possibly Jedi and they need to be taken alive.”

HK-47 reached for the facility loudspeakers, “Statement: As useless as I thought it would be, these loudspeakers are actually useful if only as an intimidation.” He toggled it on, “Intimidating Threat: Apple, peaches, pumpkin pie, if I find you first, you’re gonna die.”

Xanatos lifted an eyebrow and HK-47 snapped the speaker off.  “Query: Permission to deploy our upgraded Juggernauts?” 

Nield nodded, “Non-lethal deployment only.”

The hiss of igniting jetpacks suddenly surrounded the facility as bone-white droids with improved weaponry and jetpacks descended, establishing checkpoints and beginning to sweep the grounds.  

Komari nodded with resignation. “This is the decision of the Council?”

Mace Windu looked at the Council, polling the various members.  Ki-Adi-Mundi, Yarel Poof, Yoda, Saesee Tiin, Eeth Koth, and T’un all maintained their opposition and Mace stopped the vote there.  “Unfortunately, your knighting is contested and the Council will not be moving forward with your knighting. As you have been submitted for Knighthood three times and been contested each time, there is no path forward to Knighthood for you although a life of service may still be yours.”

Komari shook her head. “While I thank you for the honor, I hereby submit my resignation from the Jedi Order.”

Dooku bowed his head and the council erupted in outrage. 

After silence fell, Mundi spoke first, “You are below the age of majority and you have no parents to be remanded to.  Therefore, I call on the Council to invoke the right of guardianship until age twenty-five.”

< That’s ridiculous. The cub is nearly full-grown and is perfectly capable of making her own way.> Tyvokka growled with his fangs protruding. 

As the Council debated, Komari vaulted out the window, bouncing over the ledges until she reached the sparring arena. With a piercing whistle, she garnered the attention of the Mandalorian children, foundlings, and their guardians.  “One semi-feral Jedi wash-out seeking a new home! Anyone looking for a new foundling?”

Xanatos ushered Cerasi and Nield to the control center where a team of Juggernauts guarded them. He glanced at the sensors and turned to HK-47, but the droid spoke before he could. “Statement of Superiority: That pipe leads to tank AA-23 and I’ve already got a team in the tank.  Three Juggernauts are right behind the meatbag, trailing at a 10 meter distance.”

Xanatos nodded.  “You know the orders are capture alive, correct?”

“Annoyed confirmation: Yes, I know we can’t kill the meatbag yet.” HK’s eyes brightened, “Gleeful anticipation: Public executions are likely to have deterrent value and can be very exciting.”

Cerasi glared at the droid, “We’re not executing anyone!”

Nield hummed, “We’re not going to execute anyone for trespassing, I think. I’m not going to rule out other crimes, but right now, it appears to be trespassing.”

“Grumbling contradiction: Espionage is a capital crime in most jurisdictions.

Bant sighed as she emerged from the pipe into the open tank. Before she could properly assess her surroundings, she heard propellers churning and she saw the dinner plate heads of the Juggernauts. Darts hissed through the water and a weighted net descended from above.  Bant pushed herself back into the pipe and then felt a trio of pinpricks before nothing at all. 

Quin dashed across the hall, pulling the force around him, in a shadow technique meant to avoid detection.  He pulled his communicator and tapped out a burst message, short and untrackable to Ben. “In trouble. Send help.”

A few minutes passed and then an armored figure stopped at the entrance to Quinlan’s hiding spot.  “I figured that.”  Jetpacks hissed as more droids landed lightly and lifted weapons.  Ben drew his sword. “Quin, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.  Surrender now.” 

Quin slowly emerged, his short sword in his hand.  “Ben? Don’t you think this is a bit excessive?”

Ben shucked his helmet with one hand, passed it to a droid, and stared grimly at Quinlan. “The policy for handling Jedi spies is written in Atreides blood.  We’ll bring whatever is necessary.”

“But Ben… It’s me. Your crechemate.”

“You were my crechemate in a past life, but if you want to explore Melida/Daan so badly, you can.”  He gestured to a nearby droid.  “Cuff him.” 

Tholme shot bolt upright from his desk in the temple archives, “Quin, what did you do?”

Several Mandalorians clamored for Komari's attention until the sound of beskar on beskar rang and the group quieted as a battered and claw-struck Mandalorian advanced, her forge tools in her hands, “My name is Morwen Vau, Clan and House and I open the doors of my House to you.”

Komari closed her eyes, thinking quickly.  House Vau was one of the clans that had settled on Arrakis, a Goran was the weapon master and the lorekeeper of their respective houses.  She opened her eyes and met the gaze of Morwen, “I close the doors of the Jedi behind me.  I am Komari Vosa of Clan and House Vau upon your acceptance.”

“Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad, Komari Vosa.”

Dooku was patiently waiting for the council to finish when his communicator began blinking an urgent message from Master Tholme .  He merged the two calls and Tholme appeared. The Jedi Master observed the Council which fell silent at his appearance.  “Master Dooku, we have a situation.  I can’t sense Quin, but the bond isn’t ripped so…”
Mace sighed, “He’s been arrested hasn’t he?
“Most likely.” Tholme smiled ruefully.

Mundi scowled, “Knight Feemor should be censured for failing to-”

Tholme cut in, “My padawan is quite capable of getting into trouble with or without the presence of a master.”

Vokara frowned and she hurried to see Feemor who looked up from his book. “What’s wrong?"

“Where’s Bant and Quin?”

“Exploring the city?”  Feemor frowned.  “They said they were going to check out the new Mandalorian enclave here and the modifications to the spaceport.”

“Bant’s bond went dark about five minutes ago after a flash of pain.”

Feemor looked grim and he force-pulled his sword belt to him.  “She alive?”

“Yes. Most likely tranquilized.” Vokara frowned, “She feels…farther? Not on the planet maybe?”

They strode out together before Vokara staggered, “She’s gone. I can’t sense her. I can’t sense her!”

Feemor spun and grabbed Vokara’s arms. “Breathe with me. You’re a doctor, diagnose your bond.  Is there trauma?”

Vokara breathed heavily, “No…no trauma. It’s just absolutely closed and I can’t sense anything.”

Feemor nodded, “Vokara, what was Shebs wearing when we arrived?”

She looked puzzled then her mind clicked the puzzle pieces together, “Force suppressor cuffs! But on a fresh padawan? Why?”

Feemor rolled his eyes, “Who was she with?”

“Quinlan Vos… oh.”

“Yeah. You think he’s capable of getting arrested?”

Vokara centered herself with a deep breath. “I’m going to make him translate the entirety of Obroa-Skai’s recorded lineages of the Jedi by hand.”

“Tholme already made him do that.  I’d recommend a medical compendium personally.

Dooku strode out and intercepted Feemor and Vokara.  After hearing their information, he turned to head to the offices where he hoped one of the Atreides leaders would be in residence. Before he could leave, a Mandalorian armorer entered the room with Komari. The armorer was a study in colors, black, red, and brown over a green and dull orange flightsuit with a green mythosaur emblazoned while Komari wore a plain red flightsuit, a utility belt with her twin short swords, and a white vest.  Komari extended her hand and pressed her padawan braid into Dooku’s hand.  “Thank you, Master.  Though I walk my own path now, I will remember your teachings for the rest of my life.”

Dooku clutched the braid in his hand before storing it in a pouch in his belt, “Keep your crystals, Komari, I’ll return your lightsaber hilts to the temple.”  He placed his hand on her shoulder, “I’m proud of you.”

She smiled teary-eyed and the two held the position for a few seconds before Dooku sighed and dropped his hand. “Duty calls, unfortunately.  I think Quinlan got himself and Bant arrested.”

Komari laughed and stepped back.  Dooku looked at the armorer, “You adopted her?”

The armorer nodded, “Clan and House Vau.”

“Look after her, please.”

The armorer nodded again and as Dooku started to walk off, “Jetii.”

Dooku turned and the armorer nodded at Komari, “She wears the red for you too.”

Dooku swallowed, relying on the years of diplomatic training to keep the tears from springing to his eyes as he bowed to Komari before turning to the next crisis.

***********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Ben strode to the field in the center of Zehava, Bant and Quinlan being marched along behind him.  The padawans stumbled when they saw the rows and rows of markers too close together for adults.  Ben studied the graves, “We couldn’t bury the dead during the war, we dragged their bodies back into the sewers so the Elders wouldn’t know how many of us they killed.” 

Ben walked into the field.  “This one was the youngest I lost due to my orders.  Four years old, I positioned her far back to watch for Elders.  I didn’t expect a hunting party to return and I couldn’t make it back in time to her.  The one who killed her, I ripped his throat out with my teeth.”

He strolled on.  “The youngest we lost. Two years old to a mine that had waited until it had been walked on multiple times.” 

Deeper he went, “seven years old, ambushed on a supply run.” 

Another row over, “These three were ten and were my squad.  I took point, but I couldn’t deflect bolts with my blaster and…” Ben’s voice choked, “This one, the bolt seared so close to me, I could have saved him if only I had my lightsaber.” 

He strode right back to Quinlan and got right in his face.  “You want to know why I’m not a Jedi any more? It’s the one hundred and eighty-three young that died between Jinn leaving and House Atreides arriving.  It’s the Jedi ignoring us and leaving us to live and die below the streets in sewers that oozed with mud, blood, and shit.  You want to see it, Quin?” Ben shoved Quin back and walked over to a table that had been set up for him and whipped the cloth off,  “Here’s a blaster that murdered a child.” He lifted a shredded shirt, “A four year old was wearing this when she stepped on a mine.” He pointed to a stuffed bear, “I slept with that because his last owner told me that the bear would protect me as he bled out in my arms.”  He put down the remnants of the shirt and held the bear, “Now, we sit atop a mass grave and call it peace.  No more Elders screaming hate, no more Melida, no more Daan, but too few children to play in the sun.  Too few…” Ben trailed off and Cerasi emerged from behind the wall of robotic guards.  Stepping to his side, she spoke to him softly and led him in the direction of the city hall.  Bant took a half-step forward before being restrained by droids and her tears.  

Nield stalked in front of them. “I don’t think there’s anything more to say.  Get off Melidaan.”  He turned to follow Ben and Cerasi.

“Wait.” Bant spoke softly, “Is there anything we can do to help?”

Nield stopped and turned his head slightly without turning to face the padawans as he gestured to the graves. “We saw the help the Jedi offered.” Nield still didn’t turn, “We saw that the only one who cared had to give up everything he had to stand with us in the blood and mud. So no, Jedi, we don’t need or want your help, but blood is a good fertilizer.  Leave before I decide that you’d be more helpful feeding the crops that support our children.” 

Chapter Text

Arnis Dahn exhaled, letting the body of the smuggler drop.  “Master, I’ve discovered two new leads for the investigation.”

“Excellent.”  Lania Vassic stepped over the remains of the crew, levitating the bodies towards the airlock.  “We’ll slowly pick off the other ships.” 

“Do you think other worlds will leave, Master Vassic?

“Doubtful. Arrakis is unique and without allies apart from the Mandalorians. No one will want to ally with the historical crusaders.”

Arnis was about to disagree when a distinctive tone sounded from their ship attached to the opposite airlock.  “Council alert.”  He hurried towards their ship and Master Vassic hissed, “The blood!”

Arnis summoned a robe to hand and concealed his blood-stained tunic beneath the dark folds. “Master T’un. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Master T’un hummed, “The Jedi…on Arrakis…are ready…hmm…to return…h-home.”

“Arrakis has declared some sort of primitive vendetta against our linage, surely there would be a better choice?”

“You…are… a padawan.  Surely…as a…rep-rep-representive… of the… Re..Re..Republic, you will…be safe.  Make…your way…to Arrakis; Master Vassic will requisition…  a new vessel… and… continue her… mission.”

“Yes, Master T’un.”

Mace Windu settled into the council chair and pulled up the records of decisions that needed to be made.  The Councilor on duty would usually take calls that came in the night and could give advice and guidance with the full council reviewing the situation in the morning if necessary.  Mace frowned at the headache that suddenly blossomed when he glanced at the outgoing call logs. Shatterpoint. He looked through the recordings and the Force drew him to one in particular.  After watching, he stood and raced to the emergency communications.  Maybe he could issue a recall if there was time?

Padawan Dahn activated the emergency signal.  “Padawan Dahn.”

Mace Windu appeared in the holotable. “Padawan Dahn, I need you to abort your mission to Arrakis and return to your original mission.”

Dahn looked out at the golden shimmering clouds around him. “Unfortunately, Master Windu, I am on my final descent to Arrakis.”

“Can you leave and escape into hyperspace?”

“I don’t think so.  I saw gunships and fighters in orbit.” 

“Keep a low profile.  May the Force be with you.

“And with you, Master

Mace Windu walked back into the Council room and summoned the full council.  As everyone sat down, Mace Windu opened the Council.  “Master T’un, you dispatched a shuttle to Arrakis contrary to the Council’s directive that none of the Krellian lineage was to be sent.”

Master T’un shrugged, “They…are not…going to try…anything.”

Ki-Adi Mundi looked aghast.  “They’ve killed one padawan, imprisoned a knight, seduced another padawan, and just placed two more padawans in force-suppressant cuffs.  House Atreides is absolutely an enemy of the Jedi Order.”

Mace closed his eyes, “While I will not go so far as to name House Atreides an enemy of the order, the Krellian lineage is barred from Arrakis.  You sent a Jedi padawan on the cusp of knighthood into a dangerous area for no particular reason.”

“There…are..Jedi…in danger…on Arrakis.”

Tyvokka snarled < The only Jedi in danger in Arrakis is the one you sent! I propose that if Padawan Dahn is harmed, that you be stripped of your council position.>

Mace nodded. “The proposal will be tabled for now, but based on the outcome of your decision the Council will review your status as a member.

Dooku glanced up at the Jedi ship descending to the spaceport and the red-striped ship settled into place.  The ramp lowered and Dooku’s blood ran cold as the twenty one year old padawan strode out.  Arnis Dahn, of Krell’s linage through Lania Vassic . He cleared his throat, “Duke Leto, thank you for your gracious hospitality over the past few months.” 

Duke Leto nodded, “It was an honor to host some of the Jedi here on Arrakis.”

“The honor was ours, learning about Arrakis was a privilege.” Dooku turned to the Jedi with him,  “Let’s board. Padawans, if you can get on immediately and prepare the ship for departure.” 

“FREEZE.”   Paul’s voice vibrated with power and authority moments before the hangar exploded into motion. 

Duke Leto took three quick steps forward and rammed his blade through Padawan Dahn’s chest.  Dooku reached down for his sword, but Komari tackled him, screaming, “STAY DOWN! STAY DOWN! DON’T MAKE ME KRIFFING CHOOSE! NOT TODAY! STAY THE KRIFF DOWN!”   

The other Jedi found themselves surrounded by shimmering Atreides soldiers with drawn swords and stayed completely still 

Duke Leto slid his blade out and let the Padawan’s corpse slump to the ground.  He turned to the Jedi and stood silently.  Dooku reached out to Komari and pushed thoughts of reassurance-calm-talk to her and she rose, unhooking his sword as she did. 

Dooku rose in turn and looked at Duke Leto, “What did he do to you?”

The Duke stared back, “Kanly is a matter of honor and a war declared between House Atreides and the Krellian lineage.”

Dooku bowed his head with grief, “This will not be looked on favorably.”

“Here I am. Here I remain.” Duke Leto spun and walked back inside the port, leaving the Jedi to board their ship in silence.

Three Days later: Mace stood with the High Council as the shuttle descended from orbit.  It settled on the platform and Mace glanced at Master T’un.  “There are two force signatures missing.”

“Which…could be…the two…padawans in…force-suppressant cuffs.”

The ramp lowered and Quin shot down the ramp to where Tholme stood to the side of the council.  “Master, Master, Obi-Wan bio-locked my cuffs! I can’t get out of them, please, you gotta help me.”

“See…it’s just…the force cuffs…everything…is fine.”

Master Dooku strode down the ramp, “Everything is not fine. HONOR GUARD!”

Four Temple Guards hurried from their positions around the hangar drawn by Dooku’s voice and force summons.  They took positions around the ramp and even Quin fell silent. 

The shrouded body floated out, the hangar fell silent, and the Guards ignited their lightsabers. The yellow-beamed guardians escorted the fallen Jedi into the temple and the hangar resumed the hustle and bustle of supplying Jedi.

Master Windu looked around the council room, “Are we decided?”

A series of nods ran around the room and Master T’un grimly rose and walked to the center of the room.
“Master T’un, you have served long and honorably.  However, your defiance of the Council’s directive directly led to the death of a Jedi padawan when the Council’s proposed plan did not place any Jedi at risk.  For this reason, your seat now is vacant.  A mind-healer awaits you at the base of the tower and I will be in contact with you to figure how you may best serve the Order.”

Master T’un bowed and left and another Jedi entered, bowed, and took his seat. Master Windu nodded to the new arrival, “Welcome to the High Council, Master Koon.

Plo Koon tilted his head and smiled around the mask, “It is an honor to serve.”

Mace flicked his gaze around the council.  “Time to get to work.”  He pulled up the item that had the most shatterpoints on it and sent it to the council. “The first item on our agenda…” He slipped into his business mode as the newly formed council began debating the first item.

Chapter Text

Several ships in two groups descended through the spice-tinged atmosphere and landed in front of Ben.  Jango leapt out of the first and hurried over to Ben, “Where is she?” 

“Out of bacta and getting evaluated by a mindhealer.  She’s up on Melidaan with the Young.”

“What if she snaps?”

“She has security droids with her with tranquilizers and stunners.  Don’t worry, we’ve got her.”

“Am I allowed up there?”

Ben shook his head, “We’re not letting the Haat Mando’ade up there, you’d conquer the planet by adoptions.”

Jango laughed, “I can see her, right?”

“Yeah, after we’re done here, we can holocomm her and check to see if her mindhealer thinks it’s a good idea to bring her down to Arrakeen.”

“You don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“Armored Mandalorians and other armored soldiers with her background?”

Jango sighed, “Fair.” 

Ben looked behind Jango and jerked his head to the side. Jango stepped to the side and stood in front of House Vau as the ornate group approached.

Ben inclined his head, “Welcome to Arrakis, Duke Kryze.” Servants approached with jugs of uncovered water, “Drink and be our guest.”

Duke Kryze bowed his head and took a sip with the proffered goblet, “Thank you, General Atreides. It is -”

A blond teen in a beautiful dress pushed forward, “Where is she? Where’s my sister?”

Duke Kryze sighed, “Satine…”

She huffed and curtsied, “Trilord Atreides, thankyouforyourhospitalitywe’reverygladtobehereandIreallywanttoseemysister.”

Ben laughed, “Your sister is safe and is seeing a mind-healer.  We’ll arrange a holocall and a private suite for your reunion after the mindhealers clear the meeting.”

She glared at him, “You’re holding her hostage!”

Ben shrugged, “Not that you could do anything if we were, but we actually do have her best interest in mind.”

“What do you mean not that we could do anything about it?” Satine glared at him.

Ben lifted an eyebrow, “Your speech about how killing weapons are relics of a bygone era? If we were holding your sister, how would you release her?”

Satine drew in breath, but her father’s hand landed heavily on her shoulder and very gently squeezed, “General Atreides, as fascinating as a political discussion would be, perhaps we can retreat inside? This world’s heat is quite impressive.”

Ben smiled ruefully, “Of course, Duke Kryze. My apologies. This way to the palace.”

Satine’s eyes widened as she walked in the dining hall with the waterfalls pouring on either side of the bull’s head.  Her father glanced at where she was going to be sitting and his eyes tightened a bit.  “Don’t start anything.”

“Same to you. After all, you’re going to be with Mereel’s son.

Cerasi smiled at the young teen. “Satine?”

“Yes. Peacekeeper Cerasi?”

She smiled, “That is the title the boys chose for me.”

“I really admire the ending of the war and the fact that your faction brought peace to Melidaan.”

Cerasi coughed, “If that’s how you want to put it.”

Ben swung into his seat, his dress uniform pressed and the sword and dagger prominently displayed. “Is she asking about peace on Melidaan?”

Satine nodded, “I’m curious about how you negotiated peace. It might give us some insights into ending the civil war.”

Ben smirked, “Sure.  House Atreides gave the Melida and Daan one chance to surrender when they arrived.”

“One chance? How did that work? Were they that overawed?”

“They both refused to negotiate.” 

“What brought them to the table?”

Ben smiled grimly, “They didn’t.  You familiar with what they say about the Dral’han, ubi solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant? ”

“Where they make a wasteland and call it peace.” She gasped, “You didn’t.”

“I couldn’t.  I had been leading children in battle after battle with the Young.  House Atreides descended on Melidaan and slaughtered the adults who fought.”

Nield dunked his bread roll in the oil and spices, “99% of the adult population.”

“98.3%, thank you.” 

“Nerd.” 

Ben rolled his eyes at Nield’s retort and pressed home his point, “We won our peace on a mass grave.  Now the planet was small and technologically inept, the feuds were relatively confined and there weren’t all that many people on Melidaan.  This solution won’t work on Mandalorians; you’re scattered across the galaxy. Ultimately, you have to come to the negotiation table,” he nodded towards where the two Dukes and the Mand’alor’s son sat at the head table deep in discussion, “but you don’t see Death Watch here or willing to negotiate.  We need to cut them out root and stem.” 

Satine frowned, “You don’t believe there’s no way to change their minds?”

“The rank and file? I think they’re brainwashed, but given enough time they can be healed.  The bloodsworn, the fanatics, the ones kidnapping children and who truly believe in the mission and culture of Death Watch? There’s no negotiating with them.”

Duke Leto looked at Duke Kryze when the New Mandalorian Duke turned back from checking on Satine. 

Kryze bowed his head in apology, “Forgive me, but for a pacifist, my daughter has a knack for starting arguments or continuing them.” 

Jango reached for his ale.  “You sure I can’t tempt you back to the Haat Mando’ade?  Buir still reminisces about the good old days when you and your wife fought with the Ijaat Mercenary Company together. ”

Kryze sighed, “As much as I appreciate the offer, I took my oath as Duke and I’m sworn to lead my people.  The militant pacifist wing is gaining more and more strength.  My siblings are championing the cause and I’ve been trying to hold everything together.”

Duke Leto looked at the Mandalorian Duke, “You don’t have sole control?”

Duke Kryze shook his head, “No.  While I am the New Mandalorians head of state and possess an influential voice in the New Mandalorians’ Council, the Council can pass laws and they’re getting closer and closer to being able to override my veto.”  

“So why are you here?”

“I rule Sundari solely and for many of the New Mandalorians, where Sundari goes, the rest follow.  If we can broker an agreement, I’ll sign for Sundari and conditionally, for the New Mandalorians.”

“You’ve heard the announcement from my father and from Concord Dusk?”

Duke Kryze nodded slowly, “I’m having a hard time believing that a mythosaur still exists.”

“You doubt my father would be blessed by a mythosaur?”

“No, if there’s any Mandalorian that deserves the blessing, it’s your nerdy father.”

Duke Leto covered his smile while Jango snorted ale out his nose. Jango wiped his nose and grinned, “I’m going to tell him you said that.  Would you swear to Mand’alor the Nerdy?” 

“I need to see the Mythosaur first, but perhaps.”

A loud scrape drew their attention where Satine had pushed back from the table and hurried out.  General Atreides signed, the guards relaxed, and Peacekeeper Cerasi walked after Satine.  Duke Kryze frowned and Duke Leto gestured for him to stay. “Let my future daughter handle this. She’s got a good head on her shoulders and honestly, how bad can a fight between two pacifists get?”

“Satine may be a pacifist but only with physical violence. Verbal violence is apparently fair game.

Satine stopped at a room with a window bench overlooking the city and Melidaan hung in the sky. A soft rap sounded between her. She turned, saw the petite redhead, and sighed.  “Cerasi.”

“Satine.  May I join you?”

“Sure, why not?” She gestured and the two teens settled on the bench.

After the silence stretched between, Cerasi glanced up at Melidaan.  “I don’t think you quite understand the depths of the hatred up there.”

Satine frowned, “Perhaps not, but a massacre? And you’re fine with it.”

Cerasi leaned back, “I don’t know if anyone is fine with it per se, but I understand the fury of House Atreides when they swept through Zehava.” 

“What could possibly excuse a massacre?” 

“The fact that neither adult faction had noncombatants, nobody unarmed was killed, and that they had taken children hostages.”  Cerasi’s voice was grim as she told a more and more horrified Satine the history of Melidaan. 

When she finished, Satine gathered herself, “So if you’ve seen all this horror, why are you betrothed to someone who has thrown himself deeper into war?”

Cerasi nodded.  “Fair question, but have you asked why someone who has seen those horrors willingly goes back into that hell?”

Satine shook her head. 

“The Atreides have a saying: War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.  Ben isn’t a warrior by choice, but he can’t stand by and let injustices go unchecked.”  Cerasi smiled softly as starlight danced across her eyes, “You know, that’s why I agreed to marry him.  He had given up his entire culture to live in the sewers with us for a forlorn chance that maybe he could save our lives and then he decided to stand apart from the Young by taking a new name and culture just to give us resources and independence for a chance for a new life. I know he may fertilize a field with blood, but it’s only so that justice and authentic peace may bloom.” 

Satine looked at the stars and considered her next words carefully.  “Does House Atreides have a school here?”

Cerasi glanced at Satine in surprise. “Yes… they do.”

“I’m supposed to go to Coruscant to finish my education, but your views intrigue me.  I’d like to study here and I want to be close to my sister as she heals.  I think I’ll learn a lot and hopefully the two of us can be a voice for peace here.”

Paul stood back from the galactic map and the one planet in particular that he and Xanatos had discussed. He looked at the Fremen surrounding him, “Any questions about the invasion plan?”

Chapter Text

Thyferra

“And as far as losses, profits have dipped slightly in the Mandalore system.”

“We’ve seen lulls like this before.”

“No sir.  We’ve seen dips in the amount of bacta ordered during times of peace, but there was a battle in the Mandalore Sector.  No bacta was ordered and in fact, one of our brokers in Sundari reported that a surplus was sold there.  He’s trying to get a sample, but I think we have to consider that the Ashern have established themselves somewhere.”

“How would they get the infrastructure set up that quickly?”

“We don’t know, but if they’re exporting to the Mandalorians, normal threats might not work. Continue the investigation.”

“Why am I stuck with you cleaning this ship?” Bant grumbled.

Quinlan grinned, “Well, you aided and abetted a diplomatic incident.”

“You son of a Sith! That was not my fault.  I couldn’t abandon you without a healer.”

“That was probably a smart idea.”

Bant opened the closet, but froze, “Um, Quin.  There’s a bloody tunic in here.”

“Banty, hate to break it to you, but people bleed when they get stabbed. Like, there’s a lot of blood. There’s-”

“Quin!”

Quin stilled and focused on Bant’s next words.
“All his effects were placed into evidence bags.”

His eyes widened, “Including…”

“Including the shirt he was wearing when he was stabbed.”

“So…”

“So why is this tunic covered in blood?”

Quin frowned and stretched out his hand, “One way to check.”  He grasped the tunic and shuddered as the memories flooded in. He surfaced  from the trance and looked grim, “We need to get my master involved now.”

Jastor strode into Keldabe with the Mythosaur pacing alongside him and observed the setup of the great hall when he heard a woman talking,
“He represents all Mandalorians as their king and he doesn’t even have a palace?”

Myles responded, “Why would he need a palace?”

“Status. Safety. Intimidation of potential enemies.”

Before Myles could answer, Jaster stepped forward, “A Mand’alor is appointed to serve Mandalor, not seek out status or power for their own sake.  I am protected by my armor and my people.  As for appearance… if the aruetiise aren’t intimidated by Mandalorian warriors , then why would a palace intimidate them?”

She hesitated and Jaster shrugged, “It’s also our culture. We place far less importance on buildings than on our people. A palace symbolizes permanence whereas our culture is nomadic.  I can abandon this hall without hesitation and move across the galaxy because we are Mandalorians, a people of clan and creed, not of land and bloodline.”

“Fascinating.  This is very different than how I was raised.”

Jaster nodded, “What brings you here?”

“I’m here to study, I’m an amateur anthropologist.” 

Jaster grinned, “Fantastic.  I’d love to compare notes between our two galaxies. You Atreides?”

“No, I was just on board the Heighliner. My name is Irene Singh.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Jaster smiled at the young woman about his son's age and wondered how soon Jango would be returning from Arrakis.  It wouldn't hurt to introduce them if he could and in the meantime, he'd enjoy learning what he could about the other galaxy.

Jaster looked at the Atreides ship and several Mandalorian ships descending from orbit, the massive Heighliner eclipsing the stars.  As the visiting ships settled in the outskirts of Keldabe, Jango jogged up from where he had landed. 

“How was your time on Arrakis?”

Jango nodded, “It was good.  Arla still isn’t ready to meet with me in person yet, but we’ll text and holocall.”

“Even after a month?”

Jango nodded, “The mindhealer for House Vau agrees with the Young’s mindhealer. It’ll take a while for her to recover, but her progress is promising.

“That’s good.  It’s a shame she won’t be here for the declaration and the oaths, but it’s good that our allies have sent representatives.  

Jango opened the door to Jaster’s library and made his way past the shelves.  As he walked past one of the rows, a figure stepped out, engrossed in a book.  Jango extended his arm to ward off the impending crash, but as his fingers touched her, she exploded into motion.  Grabbing his arm, she dropped and twisted, heaving him into the air and completed the move by straddling him with a flick of her wrist and a concealed needle-like blade emerged from her bracelet.  As the world slowly stopped spinning, Jango gazed up to see short blond hair framing wide eyes as she took in what had just happened.

“Hey, Jango, Irene has my permission to use my…. Am I interrupting something?”

The woman squeaked and tried to scramble off right as Jango tried to haul himself upright. Their limbs tangled and she ended sprawling across Jango as gravity embraced them both.

Jaster laughed, “Look, I know I asked for grandchildren, but maybe not in my library.”

“Buir! ”

“Jango, this is my guest, Irene Singh; Irene, this is my son, Jango Fett just in case you didn’t get each other's names before you went straight to mhi ba’juri verde.”

“Buir, it’s not what it looks like!”  Jango huffed and looked at Irene, her features flamed red, “Why don’t you go first?”

Without hesitation, she scrambled off of him and he vaulted up after her. They both faced a grinning Jaster.

“Irene. Son.”

“Buir. I think we’ll take our leave.”

Jaster inclined his head and the two walked past him.  Just when Jango thought they were safe, Jaster called after them, “Jango!”

Jango stopped and slowly turned.

Jaster grinned, “Next time, buy her a drink first.” He winked at Irene whose blush renewed itself rapidly. Jango sighed and walked out with her following behind.  As the door closed, he glanced at Irene Singh. “Would you like to go for a drink?  My treat since my buir embarrassed you?”

“I took you down and threatened you with my flip-dart.”

“Believe it or not, that’s generally regarded as an attractive trait in my culture and it’s certainly not going to stop me from offering to buy you a drink.”

“What if I had actually stabbed you?”

“Is your blade poisoned?”

“Yes.”

“Then I would have needed to recover first.”

“You Mandalorians are crazy.”

Jango nodded in agreement, “That’s the general consensus of the galaxy.”

Paul rotated his head and rolled his shoulders.  Chani stretched as the Fremen all checked the repulsor belts.  Walon Vau poked his head in the drop bay, “Clan Vau will be purchasing property in Mos Espa.  We’ll be ferrying more Fremen in and dropping them in after you, but if you need help, there will be a small strike team on standby. Are you carrying enough water?”

“We have our stillsuits, water, spares, and small trade items. We’re set.”

“Then stand-by, hitting the atmosphere now.”  A minute or two passed, “Drop zone approaching. Three, two, one, GO!”  The hatch opened and Paul dropped with the first wave of Fremen onto Tatooine.

Jaster opened the holonet call.  “Jocasta, I’m not getting any younger.”

She smiled and put the book down, “None of us are, my dear. Something in particular bring this up?”

“Jango and Singh, you know, the researcher that I’ve been hosting for the past month, I caught them in a… shall we say, a compromising position.”

Jocasta’s eyes sparkled, “Do tell.”

Jaster relayed the whole story and then waited for Jocasta to stop laughing.  “So I finished the reading you sent me.  Did you know that we have the second volume here in the Keldabe library?

She gasped, “Jaster, are you holding back knowledge from me?”

He smiled, “You know I am just as you are, but this I can share.” He hit the button and transmitted the 2nd volume of Revan’s History of Mandalore to Jocasta.

“Query: Are you awake?”

Xanatos blinked awake at the closeness and the voice, “What in Korriban are you doing? It’s 0330 in the morning?!?”

“Statement: Which means the labs were open.”

“And it couldn’t wait until morning?”

“Reminder: You said to alert you when a breakthrough was made with spice melange.”

Xanatos sat bolt upright, “Show me.”

Chapter Text

Irene Singh smiled as she stood next to Jango at the bar of the Oyu'baat as several visiting dignitaries entered and frowned at the simplistic accommodations.  A young man in Atreides armor slid past with a red-headed young woman and they both went straight to Jango Fett. 

Jango leaned forward and grasped Ben Atreides’ arm, “Ben, thanks for representing House Atreides.”

She extended her hand to Cerasi as Jango spoke, “Irene Singh. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Ben turned his full attention to her, “Irene Singh?”

“Yes.”

He nodded slowly, “Are you Atreides?”

“No, I was on the Heighliner when we transitioned.”

“What brings you to Mandalore?”

“Research.”

“Do you intend to use this research to threaten House Atreides or the True Mandalorians?”

Jango leaned forward, “What’s with the interrogation?”

Ben silently kept his eyes on Irene and she touched Jango’s arm, “Jango, it’s fine.” She met Ben’s gaze directly, “I do not intend to use my research to threaten either House Atreides or the True Mandalorians.  I favor the success of both of them and I will help in my own way.”

Ben nodded.  Jango tapped Ben’s shoulder, “You done interrogating Irene?”

Ben grinned at Jango, “Of course. Can’t let you fall for just anyone, can I? We wouldn’t be good allies otherwise.”

Jango rolled his eyes and turned to Irene, “Do you want to order?”

Irene nodded and turned, noticing Ben and Cerasi quickly exchange a short series of signs carefully concealed from the crowd. She saw Cerasi relax and Ben sketched a quick salute to Jango before weaving through the crowd towards the courtyard and the duels happening there.

Komari spun her blades and sheathed them, eyeing the Mandalorians who were picking themselves off the ground with groans.  Laughs, jests, and bets flew back and forth in the courtyard and she summoned her water bottle to her with a flick of her wrist. 

“Komari, you want to take a break from showing off?”

“Ben!” She stepped towards him and pulled him into a hug.  “How are you?”

“Good.” They slipped through the crowded tavern and made it into the street.

“How long are you here for?”

“Through Jaster’s coronation.”

“Not really a coronation.” 

Ben just stared at her and she grinned, “Ok, it seems like a coronation, but there’s actually deep historical…” 

Both of them turned and stared at the Oyu'baat and the feelings of shock, horror, and disgust roiling in the Force. 

“Cerasi.” Ben’s voice was soft as he drew his sword and powered his shield on in the same movement.  He blurred away and Komari drew on the force to propel herself after him; Ben froze in the door and Komari smacked into him sending them tumbling in.  A few people turned, but most of the tavern was fixed on the holoprojecter and the three-prongs of the Death Watch symbol rotating and a countdown running 3..2..1.  The symbol abruptly vanished and Tor Vizla appeared, sitting on a black throne.  “My fellow Mandalorians, why do you gather in Keldabe for this heresy? You really think that nerd and his pitiful faction will protect Mandalore from the galaxy? You think he’ll lead you to greatness? He doesn’t even have the right to rule.”  Vizla stood and drew the darksaber, igniting it over his head. “I possess the darksaber and I alone have the right to rule Mandalore!” He leveled the blade at the camera, “Yet I am merciful and I understand the dar’manda’s lies are pernicious and cloaked in a false history.  Leave Mandalore and rally to me.  We shall gather and launch another great crusade.  Let’s reclaim Mandalore together and forge an Mandalorian Empire that the galaxy will tremble against.  Stand with me, the true Mand’alor.”  Tor faded and the Death Watch logo appeared before everything faded.

The silence stretched and eyes slowly shifted to Jango, standing stock-still with his ale gripped in his hand. 

Komari stepped forward, “Big words from a hutt’uun who relies on a Jedi’s weapon as his right to rule. Why didn’t he choose a beskad? ”

The tension shattered as laughter rang out.  Komari noticed Jango slipping out and Ben weaving through the crowd to where Irene Singh and Cerasi were deep in conversation.

Mace looked at the thick report in front of him and winced at the shatterpoint induced headache.  “Tholme… what’s this?”

“My investigation into the Krellian lineage.”

Mace leaned and steepled his fingers thoughtfully, “You investigated further?”

“Yes.  Quin had the psychometric vision after touching Arnis Dahn’s bloody tunic and seeing the vision of Dahn torturing the smuggler for information.  His official report says the smuggler as quote, ‘remanded to Republic Justice.’ unquote.  I started searching the linage reports for the same terminology and…” Tholme gestured at the massive report.

Mace frowned, “Have you cross-referenced....”  

He trailed off at Tholme’s grim face and Tholme filled in the silence, “I’ve pulled in four shadows to assist me.  These are the cases where we’ve been unable to locate an arrest record or any signs of life after the report mentions that phrase.”

Mace opened the report and flipped through the first few summaries.  “Each summary is three pages?” Tholme nodded and Mace looked at the massive report, “Then that means…”

“The Krellian linage may have been executing prisoners for years.”

“Is this airtight evidence?” 

“Not yet.”

“Get me a smoking gun or something that I can actually use.” Mace put the report down heavily. “Pull in additional shadows as necessary and make this a top priority, but Tholme, if our most effective anti-smuggler and anti-pirate linage is that way because of murder… we need to be absolutely sure before we bring this before the council.”

“The Khedive says the first prototype is ready for testing.  In order to be prepared for the expansion, I need the Spacing Guild to set up a school for new members ” 

“Unfortunately, Duke Leto, we do not take new recruitment lightly.  The Navigator Guild will not be expanding without significant concessions or direct orders from the Emperor.”

“We are the only planet in the galaxy to produce spice and you need it.”

“You need our ships sooner than we will need spice.”

“Put together your requests, but we will control the spice.”

“Not if you want the Guild to expand.  We want harvesting rights of our own.”

Xanatos studied the new chips, shimmering in golden glass. “Significant improvement?”

“Statement: Refining the spice into glass chips leads to advanced processing powers.”

“Potential uses?”

“Extrapolation: Combat droids will see vast improvements.”

“You’ve already installed one, haven’t you?”

“Snark: As if I wouldn’t have back up. I’ve installed three chips.”

“Civilian use?”

“Longsuffering statement: It will improve the processing power of any computer or droid that it is installed in.  I suppose this is the preferred method of production?” 

Jaster watched the timer tick down and smoothly gathered himself together before the red light came on and the broadcast across   

“Tor Vizla calls for the Mandalorians to rally to him as if he were the Mand’alor rather than a dar’manda hutt’uun that runs from actual Mandalorians.  Death Watch, under his leadership, has committed crime after crime and now that we’ve captured his base, we have evidence of crimes.”  Jaster paused as picture after picture of children was displayed, Death Watch text communications stripped from data banks, images of destroyed hospitals and schools.  When the images stopped, Jaster continued. “You’ve murdered children and enslaved children, but you think you have the right to rule Mandalore? You base your claim on the possession of the darksaber and if you truly believe that the strongest may rule, then I invite you to challenge me before I am anointed as Mand’alor before the planet and mythosaur. You are a stain on our society, I’ve already won Mandalore, made you flee from your base, and I uphold traditional Mandalorian values of protecting our children; I have no need to prove anything to you. If you want to challenge me, swords in the Keldabe square before my anointing in a week.   Let’s see if you are just a dar’manda demagolka or a dar’manda demagolka hutt’uun!”

The Mythosaur leapt up and roared at the camera and the signal faded to black.

Chapter Text

“Shields up.  Movement on the ridge line.”  Paul matched words to action as the Fremen surrounding them powered up their shields.  One warrior ignored the command and continued forward before a wet THAWACK broke the silence of the Tatooine desert and the golden sand misted red and gray with blood and brain matter.  Paul glanced at the remains of the arrogant warrior and strode to the ridge line.  Several slugthrowers cracked and metal spranged off the shield.  Undulating howls erupted and Tuskens emerged from the desert holding clubs.  Gaffi sticks. That’s what they were called.   Paul drew his short sword and dagger and the Fremen drew their blades behind them.

“Chani, take two warriors and start the water rites.  Jamis, with me.  We react to them and no unnecessary provocation.” 

The Tusken warriors advanced, but paused when they saw three Fremen beginning the water reclamation process.  One stepped forward and signed.  Paul leaned back, “E’tan, translate please.”

“He says that you reclaim the body water?”

“Water is life in the desert, is it not?” Paul aimed his words at the lead Tusken who nodded sagely at that pronouncement.  

E’tad effortlessly translated the Tusken’s invitation to the main camp and Paul gracefully accepted.

Walon stood with the other Mandalorians watching the live feed of the ceremony on Mandalore.  Clan after clan approached and formed a line in front of Jaster until finally the Primarch Or’Trikar approached the dais.  The droid saluted and presented something to Jaster. The man bowed forward and then rose, a new mask pressed to the face of his helmet.  Walon whistled softly as the Mandalorian clans surged forward to swear allegiance to the newest Mand’alor and the first one to wear the historic mask of the Mand’alor since the Dral’han .  As the oaths were administered, Walon looked over at Kal, “I suppose we won’t be seeing the Death Watch today?” 

“Guess not.” Kal flicked his three-sided blade around his fingers. “Are we supposed to be surprised?”

“No.”

After watching the new Mand’alor be officially recognized by the old clans and the city of Sundari, Walon walked out into the blistering heat of Tatooine and made his way towards the cantina. Halfway there, the Mandalorians froze at the sight of a shambling caravan of shackled slaves stumbling along with Hutt enforcers guarding them.  Walon’s gaze was drawn to a young woman carrying a blond ik’aad in her arms.  The woman drew closer, closer, and closer before lunging at him.  Walon barely had time to react before his arms were full with a baby and the woman screaming, “FOUNDLING! FOUNDLING! FOUNDLING!” Walon saw the lunging enforcer and ignited his jetpack. As he rose, his ankle was snagged by a lucky grab from a human enforcer.  He hung, stalled for a second before Mird leapt up and ripped the enforcer’s arm off. Walon accelerated as the kid cooed in excitement.

The Nikto enforcer growled as he stomped towards the Mandalorians.

<Stand ready> Kal transmitted on the internal comm system.  “Can I help you?”

The Nikto snarled, “You stole a slave!”

“Nope.”

“You took off with a child!”

“Are you really going to admit to a Mandalorian that you’re enslaving children?”

“Ye-”

pssh- THAWPT.  Blood and brains pattered on the sand behind the Nikto’s corpse which swayed before collapsing.

Kal studied the gore and holstered his verpine shatter gun. “Huh.  Didn’t think he had a brain. No great loss, he wasn’t using it.” 

The next enforcer stepped up and stood shaking, “Yo..ou d.d.dare ch.ch.challenge the Hu.Hu.Hutts?”

“Of course not.”

“One of your Mandalorians clearly stole a…” He trailed off looking nervously at Kal’s flexing fingers.

<Kal, program is done.>

Kal disabled his external speaker, <Send it.>  The video arrived and Kal turned it on and activated his speaker, “Let’s watch what happened, shall we?”

The video played back with the woman lunging toward Walon, Walon taking off with empty arms, and the video continued, editing every instance where a slave child should be visible and replacing it with a flawless background. “See, we didn’t take anything.”

The slaver spun around and looked at the caravan where the slaves stood. “There were…” He trailed off and looked at Kal’s holstered verpine.

“Smart.”  Kal smiled, “Well, the video clearly shows that there were no children in the group. Here’s a copy just in case you need to show your boss.  Apologies for the misunderstanding and we’ll just call it square.”

Paul,

Negotiations have stalled with the Spacing Guild.  They’re refusing to crew additional ships until I give in to their demands.  I’ve invoked the right to Imperial mediation, but that only buys us two months.  I’m sending a general with a legion to Tatooine to secure a spaceport for the Trading Clans.  You remain in charge of the Fremen expansion and can requisition any Atreides forces if needed.

I remain,

Duke Leto Atreides

Arrakis et Melidaan

Paul frowned as he looked up from the letter and stared towards the setting twin suns. 

“Paul?”  Chani settled next to him, “Problems?”

Paul passed the letter to Chani. Chani worked through the letter slowly. “What is the problem? Remove the Spacing Guild and you remove the problem, no?”

“If only it was that easy.” Paul pulled out a holo puck and activated a map of the galaxy with the trade routes highlighted.  “The Spacing Guild operates on a different principle than the hyperdrives that power transportation. We can make transportation jumps that have baffled the experts here.  The Trade Federation controls the routes and a lot of the refueling stations especially here in the Outer Rim.  The Federation also has exclusive shipping rights with Thyferra meaning it has to be a Federation ship or a ship licensed with the Federation that transports bacta.” 

“So?”

“We need the Heighliner and the new Lowliners to bypass the Federation chokepoints and efficiently move goods around. Without those ships, we have a valuable trade good, but no way to transport it without our profits getting massively curtailed by the Federation.  The Spacing Guild knows they’ve got a monopoly and that we need them so they’re pushing for concessions that we can’t grant without losing our leverage.”

“What’s the Imperial mediation?”

“House Carrino could intervene and negotiate a settlement, but if the Emperor was here, we’d have a completely different set of problems.”

To the Glorious Jabba,

As you have been informed, the Mandalorians have retreated from Mos Espa after stealing future workers of the Honorable Gardulla.  The massive cylinder ship arrived and dispatched an invasion force of boxy ships of an unknown origin as well as additional Mandalorians. The thieves have united with the new arrivals and secured Anchorhead.  While Mos Eisley remains the largest spaceport and a beautiful jem in your collection, Anchorhead is the largest collection of moisture farms on the planet and the spaceport appears to be undergoing rapid expansion.  Our tax collectors were dissuaded from their collection efforts.

Two weeks later

Brojjal frowned at the reports.  “Aunt, surely you weren’t planning on letting this insult stand?”

Gardulla shook her head angrily.  “The Mandalorians have neatly boxed us in.  We could strike back, but starting a war profits no one.  They’ve landed with the new atriesse people and have secured Anchorhead.  We could have maybe won a battle at Mos Espa, my territory, but Anchorhead is neutral between myself and Jabba. Those Mandalorians retreated out of Mos Espa when that massive ship arrived and they’ve started to expand the spaceport there.”

“That’s fine, I have a deep cover team in Anchorhead that my father established.  I’ll activate them, grab the Mandalorian, and we shall have our revenge.”

“A shadow war.”

“Just so.”

Kal flipped his tri-bladed knife as he and Vau walked through the street.  Several kids ran through the streets and Walon studied them as they passed. Kal bumped him, “Wondering about your foundling?”

“She picked the worst Mandalorian for it.”

“Look, you have a strill. Surely, you can deal with a kid at that age.”

Walon tipped his helmet in a Mandalorian shrug. “We’ll see.  He’s safe off-planet in the clan’s care.  I have some time left on my deployment.”

Kal nodded at a group of locals passing with a slow speeder, “He’s still your responsibility though.”

“Thank you for the obvious. I kn- URK!”

Kal spun as the group of locals hauled Vau into the speeder and floored it.  He felt a pinprick in his neck and the world began spinning.  Before he passed out, he deployed his whipcord and yanked one of them off the speeder.  He collapsed as the Atreides soldiers sprinted for the fallen abductor, but the speeder continued to race away.

Vau slowly clawed his way back to consciousness and a furious woman scowling at him.  “Hey, you.  You’re finally awake.  Tell me what you did with Anakin?”

“Anakin?”

“My son!”

“He’s off-planet with my clan.”

“I trusted you! ” 

“Wrong decision.”

The woman sniffed, “I know what colors mean for Mandalorians and you’re not worthy of yours.”

Vau reflected on the green for duty and black for justice. “I did my duty; he’s safe with my clan.”

“He needs a father, not a nebulous clan.”

“I’m not father material.”

The woman opened her mouth, but the door opened and a few thugs swaggered in.  Two hauled Vau to his feet while another lifted the slave woman to her feet and they were quickly marched out.  Vau recognized the vessel as a sail barge and he heard the hum of escorting skiffs and speeders as he was propelled down the hall and into a large open room.  A young Hutt, the species equivalent of a teenager, lounged on the dias.  The Hutt chuckled, “You thought you could just steal my Aunt’s property and get away with it?”

“I did not steal any property.”

The Hutt lazily waved his hand and his conversation replayed.  

Vau shrugged, “People aren’t property, my good sir. A simple cultural misunderstanding.”

The Hutt shrugged, “Cultural misunderstanding, my tail, Iron-skin. Except you’ve already been de-shelled, haven’t you?” 

The court laughed with the Hutt.  The Hutt then held up his hands for silence.  “Soon, you will die for your crimes, you and every slave involved.  Then I will send my assassins and kill the boy plus those that harbor him.” 

The woman drew in a breath next to him, but Vau smirked at the Hutt, “Good luck. You got me with a deep-cover team and a trick, I’m assuming, but trying to assassinate kids in a Mandalorian compound? That’s an act of war and the word for coward in our culture is already hut’unn so I don’t see you trying that.”

“You will die slowly.” The Hutt spat.

“We all march on and slowly or fast makes little difference once I’ve marched on.” 

The Hutt opened his mouth, but all the background humming stopped simultaneously and the sail barge dropped, digging in the sand.

Paul grinned at Jamis and the Sand People’s signaller with him, “The anti-repulsor fields worked.  Let’s go!”  He launched himself forward as the Tusken war cries echoed with the cracks of slugthrowers.  Fremen and Tuskens glided across the dunes, painting the sands with various hues of ichor as they overran the skiffs and the few eager guards who dropped from the barge to attack them. 

As the sounds of battle drew closer, Vau picked himself up and smiled at the Hutt. “I suppose I should thank you for employing horned mercenaries.”

The Hutt grunted in confusion and then gaped open-mouth as Vau grabbed one Nikto and spun the thug into another one, guiding the horns into the second’s throat. He yanked the Nikto out and guided his head forcefully into the woman’s guard before pulling him out, punching his throat, and dropping him to the ground. As the Hutt drew breath for orders, the skylight fell and the wrath of the desert fighters flowed in after it.   

Paul strode past the cooking fires and tents of the Tuskens to the large tent where the rescued slaves and Vau were holed up.

Vau was cleaning his armor and flight suit while clad in light desert wear and conversing softly in Mando’a with E’tad while the former slaves were grouped together, frowning at their limbs and murmuring softly.  Vau straightened, “General.” 

Paul waved his arm and sat.  “At ease.” He glanced over at the rescued slaves.  “Is something bothering you?”

The woman that had been with Vau stepped forward, “There’s no scars, Master.”

“You can call me Paul or Maud’dib while encamped, General if you want to be formal. There’s no masters here.”  She nodded tersely. “And the scars?”

“They show us where the chip was and that it has been removed.”

“Ah.  I think that’s the first time someone has complained about bacta being too efficient.  I can ask my tattooer about marking the sites?”

“We’d prefer scars.”

Paul shrugged, “Probably easily arranged, but we’ll check with the medics before each procedure. Is everyone good? We’ll get you fitted with stillsuits and a water ration while you’re in the desert.  It’ll be some time before we make it to a place where you can be smuggled off-planet.”

Everyone nodded.

Shmi turned as the young leader ducked out and strode across the tent. She settled across from the Mandalorian. “Explain yourself.”

The Mandalorian sighed and stripped off the shirt he was wearing revealing a back full of scars and long thin scars up and down his arms. He sat still and Shmi studied him for a minute silently.  

One of the older women called to Shmi across the tent in Amatakka, “Tell him you appreciate the view!”

Shmi gritted her teeth at the intrusion and signed for them to leave her alone. “We all have scars here, forgive me if I don’t take my shirt off to compare.”

“Your father give you yours?”

Shmi pursed her lips.  “Your father gave you those scars.”

A single nod.

“And you’re questioning whether you can be a father yourself.”

Another nod.

“That’s a load of kriffing hutt spit.” 

The Mandalorian snapped his gaze up at her profanity and she continued, “You took in my son and rescued him. You could have handed him back.”

“There’s a difference between being decent and being a father.”

“Well, you have time.” Shmi said confidently, “He will need you as he grows.”

The Mandalorian sputtered, “But he has you…”

Shmi smiled, “I’m from Concord Dawn originally before being abducted. I never passed my own verd’goten. He’s a foundling in your care which makes you responsible for him.”

“Only until I can return him.”

“But if a life debt is sworn to you…”

“Don’t you dare.”  They stared at each other and the Mandalorian sighed. “Please, don’t swear the life debt.  You are free.”

“You’ll see him through his verd’goten. ” 

“A trainer. Not a father.”

“I won’t ask for more than you can give.”

Jango reviewed the information on Tatooine and the brewing war with the Hutts.  So far the Hutts had kept their armies leashed, but the vitriolic threats meant that war was likely.  Unless the Spacing Guild retracted their threats, the connection between the Mandalorians and Arrakis was in jeopardy.  Mandalmotors was looking into new designs for warships, but rescaling the economy to handle war and questionable supply lines was out of the question right now.

A knock on the door interrupted him and Irene Singh entered his office, holding a beskar knife. “An engagement present, Jango?” 

Jango leaned back, “We don’t really go for engagements so our courtships to be short and intense.  Accepting the knife would make you my ven’riduur , which in Basic doesn’t translate accurately.” 

“Future spouse is pretty clear.”

“Ven’riduur are expected to be preparing for the riduurok, so it’s an intense courtship period that typically results in marriage.  However, either member can walk away before the vows.”

“If we’re heading for marriage, there’s some things I need to tell you.”

Jango nodded and closed the door as she slipped the knife into her belt and sat down for the conversation.

Chapter Text

Komari leaned back in her chair and twirled the wine in her glass, studying the restaurant that Xanatos had taken her to.  Xanatos followed her gaze to the large, enclosed fountain in the center of the restaurant.   “Bit of a monstrosity, isn’t it?”

Komari chuckled, “Aesthetic wasn’t a priority.  I guess it was much more popular before the reign of the Water Duke?”

“Many paid the dinner prices just to watch the fountain.”  Xanatos confirmed, “Fortunately, their food will keep them relevant even if the fountain becomes a historical footnote.” 

Komari opened her mouth to respond when her comm blared a frantic alarm.  Xanatos raised an eyebrow, “I thought you muted tha-”

“It’s the nursery override.  Someone’s attacking the nursery.”  Komari stood and rushed towards the rear of the restaurant. Xanatos followed her at a run. She froze in the shadow of a pillar and resolve crystallized in her eyes.  She grasped Xanatos’ arm and said, “Close your eyes and step with me.”

Xanatos stepped with her as the Force tugged at him and Komari swore, blades rasping out of sheaths. Xanatos opened his eyes and saw the nursery at the heart of the Vau’s compound and the door glowing as the metal melted and warped. Komari tossed a glance at him as she readied her blades, “Are you ready to fight?”

“I was going to suggest dessert, but if you think fighting together is romantic, I can be persuaded.” Xanatos powered on his shield and drew his smallsword and dagger before looking at Komari in her dress, “Can you fight in that?”

Komari smirked, “Well, I’m certainly not taking it off with children present.” She drew on the Force and manipulated the clasps on the sides of her dress. The dress parted on the sides and remagnetized in the front and back, leaving her legs free for maneuvering.  She tapped the shield controls on the belted combat shorts she wore beneath her dress and twirled her twin daggers. “Ready?” 

Two more Mandalorians materialized out of the shadows and immediately fell back to where the children were taking cover, popping LDA canisters on the ground and leveling slugthrowers at the door.  The air took on a distinct blue-tinge before the door caved in.  The first two figures to shove through caught slugs and dropped instantly while the third dove through, rolling to his feet as Komari pounced on him.  The furious exchange of metal on metal sounded in the background as Xanatos focused on the door. Another blur dove through and ate two slugs; a fifth figure dove into the top half of the door that Xanatos lazily lifted and fell to the ground.  Xanatos dropped the door, pinning the assassin beneath the metal before four more stormed in. 

Three raced forward and Xanatos stepped towards them, bringing his smallsword and dagger up in a classic dueler’s pose.  One engaged him, beating the sword and dagger aside with contemptuous ease before stabbing him in the chest rapidly three times.  Xanatos staggered back and Komari flew over him and hacked the assassin to pieces. Two split around the pair, but were abruptly stopped with one catching several slugs with his nose and eyes and the second was lifted and thrown into a wall hard enough to liquify bone in a uncoordinated Force push that emanated from a tow-headed infant.  The last one studied the room and retreated out the door; a series of flashes lit the hall and the assassin staggered back in before collapsing, smoke curling from the blaster wounds.  Komari spun to face Xanatos, “You underestimated them.”  

Xanatos rolled his shoulders. “Clearly. A bit stronger than I was expecting.”

Mandalorians flowed into the room, quickly checking the corpses.  Xanatos gestured under the door, “That one should still be alive.” 

Komari lifted the door and the other Mandalorians checked. “Dead. Poison.”

 Komari turned back to Xanatos, “You need to not underestimate your opponent.”

“I wasn’t expecting Dashade Shadows to be that quick.  The Hutts must be furious if they sent a team.”

“Most likely two or three teams.”  Morwen Vau spun her armorer’s hammer.  “They lost several breaching the nursery building plus the ones that fell here.” 

“Even more so. Has Tatooine been alerted?” 

“Not yet.” Morwen nodded and a Mandalorian quickly jogged out, clearly already on comms.

Komari stepped towards Xanatos, “I could have lost you.”

“You won’t lose me.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“True, but I could make other promises that would be easier to keep.”

Komari narrowed her eyes and reached out with the Force.  Xanatos lowered his mental shields and Komari picked up on his sincerity.  She threw her dagger down into one of the Dashade corpses and extended her now free hand to Xanatos who grasped it. Komari spoke first, Xanatos following after, “ Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”

Xanatos nodded to Komari who was beaming.  Morwen Vau crushed her adopted girl into a hug and several Mandalorians congratulated Xanatos.  Morwen set Komari down and leveled her hammer at Xanatos. “Treat my daughter with respect.” He nodded and the Vau armorer nodded in respect,  “Congratulations on your marriage.”

Shock flooded the Force as Xanatos absorbed her words, “Excuse me… marriage?”

The Mandalorians all looked at him and Morwen placed the hammer on her shoulder, “What did you think you promised?”

“Engagement?”

Komari’s eyes widened, “Mandalorians don’t really get engaged per se…”

“Well.”  Xanatos considered, “Do I have to say the vows again or is the initial speaking of them enough?”

Morwen chuckled, “Might be for the best. In basic this time please.”

Komari grasped Xanatos’ wrist again and spoke with Xanatos echoing, “ We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors.”

Xanatos stood before Duke Leto and concluded his briefing about the attack.

Duke Leto glanced over at the newly arrived Mandalorians.  “Are you familiar with these?”

Jaster nodded, “As Xanatos said, Dashade Shadow Assassins. Use of them by the Hutt clans are historical legend, but they haven’t been seen for thousands of years… officially, that is.  There’s been rumors, but nothing that has been substantiated.”

Duke Leto drummed his fingers on the table. “Could we declare a war on the Hutts?” 

Jaster shook his head, “As much as I want to, war would galvanize the Hutts.  Hutt Space has far too many planets under their control for offensive operations and we’d be stretched too thin.” 

Thufir Hawat leaned forward, “My Lord, this will have to be a shadow operation. Assassin for assassin, blade for blade.”

Duke Leto and Jastor both frowned in distaste before Duke Leto shrugged fatalistically, “So be it. Thufir, you’ll handle the logistics?”

“Of course. Mand’alor?” 

“You’ll coordinate with my Prudii’alor.”

Thufir nodded and his eyes rolled back as he began calculating agents, research, and possible targets.

Duke Leto glanced down at the agenda, “And now for the final item… show the guild representative in.” 

The Guild representative strode in. “My Lord Duke. Have you come to your senses?”

Before Leto could say anything, one of the Mandalorians next to Jango leaned forward, “I believe we still have four hours for the Emperor to intervene?” 

The Guild representative nodded slowly, “Do you think the Emperor will appear in four hours, madam?”

The Mandalorian shrugged, “Most here know me as Irene Singh, but forgive the deception, but I’ve deemed it safer to operate under an assumed name.” She stood and shucked her helmet, “Princess Irulan of House Corrino , Head of the Imperial Archive, Designated Heir Apparent with Imperial Right of Representation, ven’riddur to Jango Fett, Ad be Mand’alor.  As Heir Apparent, I recognize the right to Imperial mediation.” She smiled, “Duke Atreides, may we speak privately?”

Duke Leto glanced at his advisors and bowed slightly, “Of course, your Highness.

Irulan strode into the room and studied Duke Leto. “Let’s lay our cards on the table. As the only member of House Corrino that I know of in this galaxy, I don’t have an army at my command, but between the Imperial sleepers and the Spacing Guild against your House loyalists, we could tear ourselves apart in this unforgiving galaxy.”

Duke Leto nodded slowly, “A succinct summary.”

“Alternatively, we forge a new alliance right here.”

“Go on.”

“Your loyalty to your wife is well-known and Paul’s marriage to the Fremen girl is strategic as well.”

Duke Leto nodded in acknowledgement and Irulan continued, “I’m likely to marry Jango in the near future and children are to be expected from both my union and Paul’s.”

Duke Leto steepled his fingers, “A betrothal between your and Paul’s eldest son and daughter.” 

“As the representative of House Corrino , I name you as the galactic Imperial Hand and you act in the name of Emperor Shaddom. If Emperor Shaddom does not return before our houses are united in marriage, then my child and your grandchild are proclaimed Emperor and Empress over the territory that we control.”

“The Mandalorians won’t be folded into the Empire.”

“Most likely not. An alliance with them suits our goals admirably.”  Irulan smiled, “Shall we break the bad news to the Spacing Guild and put them back into their place?”

“With pleasure, Princess.”

Tahl felt the heat wash over her as the ramp lowered. She slowly made her way down and into Anchorhead. Stretching out with the Force, she made her way to a Mandalorian who seemed wary at her approach. “Excuse me, can you tell me who would be the best one to ask about transportation to Melida-Daan?”

“Never heard of it.”

“Small planet, Cavadine sector. Might be in orbit around another planet, Arrak-kris?”

“One of the moons of Arrakis?”

“Possibly.”

“You’d have to speak to House Atreides. You a member of Krell’s lineage?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Tahl entered one of the rooms of the palace on Arrakis. Cerasi stood, “Tahl, you survived!”

“I did. I’m so sorry about the cost.”

Cerasi nodded, “We haven’t blamed you. You were unconscious and had no say in the matter.”

“Still… what I can do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m on medical leave from the Order, but say the word and I will devote my life to serving the Young.”

Cerasi steepled her fingers and considered. “We aren’t allowing many adults to Melidaan.”

“Completely fair.”

“When did you realize what happened?”

“In the medical center, shortly after I regained consciousness.”

Flashback: A few months prior: Tahl swam to consciousness and found herself immersed in darkness still.  Her gasping breaths drew Vokara who went over the injuries that Tahl had suffered and her recovery plan.  As Vokara left, Tahl carefully stood and Qui-Gon projected his concern in the Force. 

“Perhaps you should wait to stand?”

“Qui, I had plenty of downtime.  This feels good.”  She turned sightless eyes in his direction.  “Have you been staying here?” 

After a few seconds of silence, Tahl huffed. “If you’re shrugging, I can’t see it.”

Qui-Gon huffed quietly to himself before speaking, “I’m sorry.  Yes, I’ve been spending a fair bit of time here.”

“Qui! You have a padawan, you can’t…” Tahl trailed off at the spike of betrayal-pain from Qui-Gon. “What happened?”

She heard robes shifting and mentally pictured him folding his arms inside his sleeves before he spoke, “Former Padawan Kenobi has left the Jedi Order.”

“Obi-Wan? Impossible. I had his clan during my creche service rotation and he was completely dedicated to the order.”

“Not anymore.”

“Curious.  I should call to thank him for helping to rescue me.”

“That may be difficult.”

“Why? It’s not like he’s still on…”  Tahl’s stomach roiled at the image of the bright red-haired initiate in the hell of Melida-Daan. “Has the Corps been dispatched?  The Young are dying.” 

“Per Senate regulations, the Corps cannot be dispatched to war zones…”

“The Council has dispatched a crisis resolution team then?” Tahl snapped. Silence stretched between them.  “You haven’t told them.  The Council has no idea that parents are shooting at their own children. Obi-Wan is in a war zone with his lightsa…” She trailed off.  “You didn’t.”

“He left the order.”

“Did he or did he stay to help the children? Because the Initiate I knew would never leave the Order, but he wouldn’t stand for injustices either.”

“He refused to leave and attempted to steal our vessel thus endangering you.”

“I WOULD HAVE RATHER DIED IF MY LIFE WOULD HAVE SAVED CHILDREN!” Tahl screamed.  “YOU KRIFFING LEFT A TEEN IN A WAR ZONE DEFENCELESS!”

“That was his choice.”

“No it wasn’t. You made the decision to confiscate his lightsaber. You are the Jedi Master here.  You could request a Council meeting and argue for a crisis team.  You could request Judicial and a peacekeeping force sent to the planet.” She stopped, her chest heaving with the exertion. Footsteps pattered away in the hallway, but neither knight moved.  Tahl thought as she recovered her breath and frowned, “Why wouldn’t you just do some… No.” Horror flooded through her, “Don’t tell me that you didn’t request aid for Melida-Daan because you wanted to stay with me?”  

“I made the choice that you would have a friend here to block the negative emotions and maintain your shielding.”

Tahl sat heavily, “How many children died because of me?”

“Tahl, that’s not-”

“It is true.  Every child that died while I was receiving medical care, that’s on us and our relationship.” Tahl turned sightless eyes in Qui-Gon’s direction, “You know, I never thought I’d be grateful to be blinded, but now… I don’t think I could have ever looked at you the same way again.  I’m grateful my last view of you was that of a Jedi Master rather than someone who condemned children to death because your padawan reminded you of your duty.”  Tahl let the words linger in the air as she carefully clambered back into bed.

Cerasi listened to Tahl recount her recovery process and nodded as she finished her story.  “You are of course welcome to stay on Arrakis if you’d like.  There are many Young who may wish to visit you.  I would need to consult with the other members of the government on whether you’ll be allowed on Melidaan.”

Before Tahl could respond, the door opened and Tahl could sense two presences in close proximity, nearly entwined, enter with two guarded presences following.”

Cerasi squealed, “Baby?!?”  One presence passed the smaller presence over to Cerasi and Cerasi cooed at the quiet baby. The mother, as Tahl guessed, directed her attention to Tahl and Tahl could sense the guarded force-sensitivity of the mother before she spoke, “Jedi Knight Tahl?”

Tahl nodded, “Yes and may I have your name?” 

“Lady Jessica Atreides.” 

“Lady Atreides, thank you for your hospitality.  Cerasi mentioned that I might stay here in Arrakis?” Silence stretched before Tahl smiled softly, “Unfortunately, I was blinded as a result of my involuntary stay on Melida/Daan before the regime change.”

“Ah. Of course, if Peacekeeper Cerasi approved your stay here, she can either make arrangements in the Melidaan section of the palace or I can arrange guest quarters for you.”

“Guest quarters for now.” Cerasi’s voice was soft, but beskar-laced. “She is still a Jedi.”

“Say the word and I’ll resign if it’ll help one child heal.” 

Tahl heard the soft whisper of fabric as the two women turned towards each other before Cerasi softened slightly, “Thank you, Tahl.” 

“It’s the least I can do.”  Tahl grinned slightly, “Now, unless the sight of a Jedi opening random doors in the palace amuses you, can someone lead me to my room?” 

Cerasi giggled and Jessica called for Shadout Mapes to lead Tahl to her quarters.

Roenni quickly hurried through the medical wing in the Young’s main hospital to where Bo-Katan, Arla, and Deila were discussing the next steps in the Mandalorians’ road to recovery.

Roenni leaped up on a chair. “Hey, you know how you girls said you needed a mission, something to do?”

The two Mandalorians nodded and Roenni continued, “What if we attacked Qui-Gon Jinn for abandoning Obi-Wan and making Tahl sad?”

Deila shook her head, “We can’t. Obi-Wan said that Qui-Gon is his own problem to deal with and does not want anyone else hurting Qui-Gon.”

Roenni pouted and the other girls chuckled at the precocious six-year old. Deila considered, “You know… the prohibitions about Qui-Gon only extend to hurting him and the med-droids did say that having a sense of purpose would be beneficial for your recovery…”

Arla blinked, “Are you suggesting we break into the Jedi Temple to what, play a prank on Qui-Gon?”

Deila grinned, “Why not?”

Arla slowly studied the beaming eleven year old, the ten year old Mandalorian, and the six year old before sighing. “Sure. Let’s invade the Jedi Temple for the sole purpose of playing a prank.”

Quinlin looked at his comm and the message ostensibly from Obi-Wan, but it wasn’t his usual style of writing. He made his way to Dex’s restaurant with Siri Tachi at his side, Garen flying around the neighborhood, and Bant at the Temple listening in just in case it was a trap. Stepping in, he looked around before making his way to the private room that Obi-Wan said would be reserved.  He opened the door and saw four people ranging in age from twenty to six. He cocked his head but one of the ten year olds spoke, “Quinlan Vos?”

“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Miss,”

“Colonel Deila. I was Ben’s second-in-command during the war; now I’m a non-combatant logistics officer for Clawmouse Legion; Ben’s legion.”

Quinlan stepped in with Siri. “So why did you contact me?”

“We need to infiltrate the Temple to complete a mission.” Arla drawled.

“We’re not going to betray our order.” Siri spat at the young woman.

The six year old piped up, “Do you really think that Qwi-Gon treated Ben right?”

Siri and Quinlan glanced at the small child and then at each other before Quinlan spoke, “I don’t agree with Qui-Gon at all, but our oaths won’t allow us to stand-by and let you kill him.”

“As much as we want to kill him, we’re prohibited from it as well.” Deila admitted, “However, there’s no orders against pranks.”

“You came all this way for a prank?” Siri yelped.

Quinlan grinned, “Oh, we are going to get along great.”

A day later, Quinlan passed out four Jedi robes to the girls. “And I have to say no weapons.  No accidental killing.”

Bo-Katan scowled and Arla smirked, “I’ve got my non-lethal load-out.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh, yes.” 

Quinlan grinned, “Ok, enlighten me.”

“Two New Mandalorian riot stunner pistols, tranq darts, flash-bangs, stun grenades, soporific gas grenades, stun batons, and whip cord.

“You think that’s enough?”

“Oh, and the Stokhli spray stick.” 

Quinlan and Siri just stared at Arla who grinned before saying, “Oh, and I gave Roenni plenty of non-lethals as well.”

Everyone stared at the six year old bristling with weapons and her bright smile.

Siri turned to Quinlan, “Even for you, this is reckless.

The hooded figures slipped through the Temple until they reached Qui-Gon’s room. Arla glanced at Bo-Katan and nodded for her to take the lead. Bo-Katan drilled a small hole in the door and threaded a thin hose in before piping gas in.  The group waited and then cracked the door open, letting a masked Deila and Roenni slide into the room.  Deila slipped up to the unconscious Qui-Gon and pulled out her weapon of choice, activating them with a buzz.  She swept the hair clippers over Qui-Gon, swiftly shredding his hair and beard.  After removing everything visible, she walked into the refresher where Roenni had lifted herself with a hoverstep to the top of the shower. The six year old beamed, “Shower reassembled, hair remover and multi-colored dye pack added.”

“Flashbang behind the mirror?” 

“Haven’t added it yet.” 

Deila nodded and glanced down at her communicator. “Bo-Katan spotted Kerj Shebs' room. They’re moving in now.”

Bo-Katan grinned at Arla who was slipping flash bangs into different areas. “We should do this more often.”

Arla smiled fondly at the young girl happily shredding Jedi robes that were considerably more elegant than the more roughspun robes favored by the order. “We should. Deila is going to the Archives and we’ll rendezvous at the exit.”

Adi Gallia tapped her pad, “And the last note is a request for an investigator to the shipyards of Sluis Van to see why they have dismissed Republic observers.” 

 Before they could say anything, the Force sang with purpose and Mace sighed as every Council members’ commlinks went off in a discordant series of tones.  Glancing at the comm,  he saw Jinn’s authorization codes on an Order-wide transmission and opened the attached report.  Skimming it briefly, he saw the classified report on Melida/Daan and the transcription of the contentious argument about whether Jinn should be stripped of his rank and exiled to Tython or confined to the Temple. Eventually Jinn’s past had decided them on a path of mind-healing and support under guard and confinement, but the release of this report would prick at Qui-Gon’s wounded pride and possibly cause Qui-Gon to reject the healers’ help.  Tyvokka growled, “ I’ll handle the response, you go to Jinn.”

Mace nodded and hurried into the Temple, weaving his way to Qui-Gon’s quarters.  He pounded on the door, “Master Jinn, it’s an emergency, I’m coming in!”  He opened the door, heard a click-poof and was doused in glitter. Sighing heavily, he heard the water turn off in the refresher and pushed his presence towards Jinn so that he knew that Mace was in his quarters.  Qui-Gon sent an irritated acknowledgment and a sense of wait. A minute later, the refresher lit with a flash and brief ear-splitting CRACK!  Mace used the Force to yank the door open and Qui-Gon staggered out into another poof of glitter.  Mace stood stunned at the sight of the disgraced Jedi Master.  Qui-Gon was not only shaved completely bald, his open shirt revealed no hair on his neon chest. Swirls of neon green and blue coated Qui-Gon from head to toe and glitter added a glistening sparkle to the renegade master. 

Ben studied the data pad and the pictures Quinlan had sent before returning his gaze to the four miscreants before him and the other two leaders of Melidaan.  “Perhaps, I didn’t want my story blasted through the Jedi Order?”

“But it’s not your story anymore.” Roenni pointed out. “You’re Ben Atreides and we struck the link between you and the Jedi Apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi who died on Melidaan.”

Ben opened his mouth and closed it again.

Nield snickered. “She has a point.”

“She’s a menace.”

Nield shrugged, “I don’t disagree.”  He glanced at the two Mandalorian women.  “Arla, would you like to go back to Mandalore or the new covert on Arrakis?”

“I’ll return to my family on Mandalore.”

Nield nodded in acknowledgement, “Bo-Katan, your sister has offered a room in her apartments, but she’s returning to Mandalore for the conference.

“What conference?”

Nield shrugged and looked at Ben who explained, “It’s a peace conference between the True Mandalorians and the New Mandalorians.  Sundari swore to the Mand’alor, but the New Mandalorian movement hasn’t fully accepted Jastor’s ascension. Satine has been preparing arguments in favor of pacifism, but is hoping the New Mandalorians and the True Mandalorians can be united.”

Bo-Katan blinked, “Well, I guess this new alliance has been working miracles.”

Komari and Xanatos sat in a meeting with Jessica and the leader of the Ka’ra’ade, the Mandalorian Force-Sensitive order.  The Togorian leader, Viscarr Ordo, stirred his shig before speaking, “We thought we would have more time to train Komari before her marriage to Xanatos.  It was perhaps inevitable that close allies would learn of our ability to teleport.”

“Shadow stepping?”

“Shadows are like training wheels, it is easier to visualize stepping from one shadow to another whereas eventually…” He extended his hand and the pot of shig across the room vanished, reappearing next to him. “Space becomes relative.”  He refilled his cup and looked levelly at Jessica.  “I hear very interesting things about your truth detection.” 

“The Bene Gesserit have a long tradition of discerning truth from falsehood.”

“We’re very interested in learning that technique and we will train your Bene Gesserit in teleportation.” 

“I believe that will work for us.”  Jessica glanced at Komari, “I presume she’ll stay to teach us?”

Viscarr shook his head, “No, many of the Ka’ra’ade are being pulled back for the conference. I have a retired Ka’ra’ad who won’t mind a trip here to begin teaching and Xanatos can accompany his new wife to Mandalore.”

Xanatos shook his head, “You honor me, but I have negotiations that are time-sensitive.”

Viscarr nodded, “So be it. Komari will be based here with her clan and husband so she’ll be back after the conference.”

“Master, the Mandalorians are at the precipice of uniting.”

“Their unity will slow our plan, but the new planet is the priority.  The board has been reshaped and it would not do to act rashly.” 

“Yet, Death Watch is gathering themselves for a strike. If we fund them, offer them weapons, perhaps the alliance can be shattered.”

“Weapons are traceable and I do not trust them.”

“They bring suffering to the galaxy and divide Mandalore…”

“They unite people against them.  The divisions are only temporary and now that the True Mandalorians have the strength to root the Death Watch out, we are seeing the beginnings of peace and healing.”

“Let me shatter it.”

“You may fund Death Watch, but you may not go in person.”

“They will require something more tangible than money.”

“Your pet. Is he good enough to avoid getting caught?”

“My pet, Master?”

The Master’s long pale fingers flicked and the human doubled over in agony. “Feigning ignorance does not suit you or did you genuinely think…. You did.  My, my foolish apprentice.”  The human apprentice writhed under the Master’s torture as the Master considered the next steps before speaking, “Prepare the blocks and snares in your pet’s mind before sending him to Mandalore.  Let’s see what your young assassin can do on his own.”

Chapter Text

Jabba growled at Gardulla, “This is not the time to taunt the Mandalorians or their allies.  Surely, you know this.”

“Our armies outnumber theirs massively.”

“Conscripts and warriors, but no true soldiers. The Mandalorians are an army as are their allies.  If you do not acknowledge that, at least acknowledge that the Mandalorians are here on Tatooine and the Hutt armies are not!”

“They wouldn’t dare attack a Hutt council member and a lord of Tatooine.”

“You place far too much trust on your title. If they come, can your palace withstand an attack?”

“The walls are nigh impenetrable. Besides, why are you so concerned? We are rivals for this planet.”

Jabba growled in fury, “I have no love for you, but you are a Hutt and I will not stand for any inferior races to attack you.”

Komari stood next to two fellow Ka’ra’ade as the briefing concluded. The briefer looked at them before asking, “Any questions?”

“Why the Tuskens and the slaves?” 

One asked and Komari leaned forward, “Politics. A Mandalorian assault would be far more efficient, but it also takes the war public.  Hutt space lies between Arrakis and Mandalore giving them the advantage of interior lines of supply and communication.”

“Plausible deniability is a wonderful thing.”

The three Ka’ar’ade nodded as the Heighliner emerged over Tatooine. 

Komari turned on her shield and drew her swords, one, two, and step.  Curses sounded as she materialized in Gardulla’s security room. Two Ka’ra’ade appeared behind her, moving swiftly to secure the door, blasters raised. The guards fell one by one, cut down by whirling blades or picked off by accurate blaster fire.

As the last corpse slid off her blade, Komari strode over to the security console and entered a series of commands. The gate creaked open and the slave implants deactivated. Komari smiled grimly, “Now it begins.”

Gardulla frowned as a dull rumbling echoed through the palace. Her majordomo glanced at the datapad in his hands and blanched, “Great Gardulla… the gates are opening.”

“Close them.”

“Of course, your greatness.” The majordomo frantically hit a few buttons and then pulled out his commlink. “How dare you defy my order? Close the gates!” 

The commlink clicked and the majordomo gestured to a few of the guards. “Find out who is on duty and bring them to me.”

Gardulla felt a slight worm of fear start burrowing into her gut. She glared at the majordomo, “Check the exterior and find why the gates opened.” 

The majordomo nodded jerkily and tapped through his datapad before becoming even whiter, “Your greatness…it’s..it’s…”

“The Mandalorians wouldn’t dare!” Gardulla boomed out, “That would be a war!”

“Worse, your greatness.” The howls sounded from the desert and echoed through the halls of the palace, “Tuskens.”

“Block the entrance!”

The Majordomo nodded and ordered the guards to the door. Gardulla gestured for the majordomo to approach and they watched their guards form improvised defensive positions perfectly set to guard the open gate. Gardulla chortled, “Now, the Tuskens are doomed. The defensive position will be enough to repel the savages.”

The majordomo frantically drew his commlink out, “If the security office is taken, who else is inside with us?” The commlink beeped as it connected, “Captain, there might be intruder behind…”

His voice trailed off as the security camera flared with blaster fire and the defensive position was annihilated from behind. Gardulla growled in anger, “Who would dare defy me in my own palace?”

The palace intercom clicked on, “Rainstorm, Rainstorm, Rainstorm.”

The majordomo looked at Gardulla for a brief second confused before the slaves in the throne room erupted in a storm of movement, blood and viscera pooling across the floor as hidden blades slashed across sycophants and gutted the few guards that remained.

Shmi watched the Tuskens and the Tusken-disguised Atreides soldiers pour through the open front gates. She moved slowly, marveling at the corpses sprawled across the floors.  The rains have come and soon the planet would be free.

She stepped into the throne room and looked at the group of Amtivvka surrounding a blustering Gardulla.

“You’ll be flayed and pinned to the walls for this! I’ll keep you alive for decades so that no slave will ever dare raise their head in rebellion.”

Shmi laughed and the sound shocked Gardulla into silence. Smiling, Shmi broke the silence, “You think you have power here.”

Gardulla drew herself up, “I am on the Hutt council and one of the Lords of Tatooine.  I can summon the armies of hundreds of worlds to fulfill my bidding.”

Shmi nodded slowly, “That may be true, but those armies aren’t here, are they?”

Gardulla sneered at her before Shmi continued softly, “Those armies aren’t here, but the slaves you brutalized, the families of those you’ve killed, the remnants of shattered families from you selling children, husbands, wives… they’re here now. Armed. Angry. What good are the Hutt armies?”

Gardulla stared at her in shock. “You’ll die.”

“Drukka be drukka. Freedom or death.”

“My armies will glass Tatooine and everyone will die.”

“Doubtful.  The Mandalorians and Atreides are here and they are settling on the planet.  Jobba may summon armies to him, but that’s war and the Tuskens are gathering their strength.” Shmi shrugged, “But that’s for me to worry about. I’ve always wondered how many times a Hutt needed to be stabbed.”

An hour later, Shmi was informed that it had taken 263 stabs wounds for Gardulla to expire.

Satine stepped off her family’s shuttle. The welcoming committee waited at the edge of the platform and she could see the other shuttles descending from the orbiting Heighliner. Striding forward, she greeted her father and the other members of her family although she noted the distance her pacifist aunts had set between themselves and her father was just far enough to be considered rude if one was versed in courtly politics. She lifted an eyebrow in her aunts direction and watched one of them flush in acknowledgment. Smiling sweetly, she advanced with the rest of her party.   

Jango frowned and fidgeted as the New Mandalorian speaker droned on.  Irulan cut her eyes toward him briefly and whispered, “Be still.” 

Jango nodded and remained still for a little while but after another fifteen minutes of droning, he started fidgeting again, but fortunately the gong for the midday meal was rung and everyone separated for lunch.  

Irulan looked at Jango with fond exasperation, “How can you remain perfectly still while waiting on a battlefield, but get antsy in a meeting hall?”

“I can get killed on a battlefield.”

“Do you think this is any less deadly?”  She gestured at the New Mandalorian banner as they walked alone in a garden, “We have not yet won the allegiance of the New Mandalorians and this is a war over heart and souls.  We must win over the pacifists in such a way that they integrate in our society or else they could go squalling to the Republic that they’re facing a genocide.  Do you think the Republic will investigate?  If the Republic thinks that we need to be brought to heel, I’m sure the Hutts would be happy to unite their armies with whatever forces the Republic can muster.  House Atriedes doesn’t have the ships for a full war so the brunt of the war would be fought on Mandalorian soil.  Are our people ready for another war?”  Jango nodded in acknowledgment of her points and she continued, “I was raised as heiress to an Empire and this, right here right now, is a far more bloody battlefield than anything in the field.”

Jango snorted, “Maybe we should tell the pacifists that; get them to surrender.”

Irulan’s tinkling laugh echoed through the garden as they settled onto a blanket to eat.

Satine stood, “People of Mandalore, thank you for the opportunity to speak here today.  We stand at an unprecedented time in our culture’s recent history as we have a new Mand’alor that wears the original mask of the Mand’alor and has been blessed by the Mythosaur and yet I was raised in a belief that this warrior culture was barbaric, brutish, and out of touch.  A belief that said that weapons were inferior to words and that to fight and kill was to be a murderer.” 

 A wave of acknowledgments swept the New Mandalorians and Satine nodded, “I believed that! I was the first to say that our blasters should be scrapped, our beskads melted, and our armor reforged into building a new future.”  A wave of applause swept the New Mandalorians and Satine lifted her arms for silence.  “And then I went on a diplomatic mission to Arrakis and Melida-Daan.”  She clicked the remote and images slowly displayed behind her.  Children hiding in sewers, adults hunting the children, and rows upon rows of tiny graves. “On Arrakis, I met the children who had survived their parents’ war; a war that had lasted for generation upon generation.  They had formed a third faction to bring peace to their world.  They talked. Some of them died. They begged. More of them died.  They summoned the Jedi.  The Jedi nearly died. They fought. Yet more died.  It took the imposition of an armed intervenor in the form of House Atriedes to end the war.  House Atriedes is a warrior culture, but one that believes a blade has a time to be drawn and a time to be sheathed.  Their Warmaster is just as quick to pick up his baliset as he is to wield a blade.”  

The images of Melida-Daan changed to rebuilt houses, children running in the streets, and picnics in the parks.  “Peace was brought at a bloody price, but now the children have a future! Seeing this, I began to wonder, what evils have I turned a blind eye to and the return of my sister opened my eyes to an evil we have let fester here in Mandalore for far too long.  The Death Watch are everything the New Mandalorians have railed against for years.  They are brutes who steal children, revel in bloodshed, and will tear the galaxy apart.  Yet we as the New Mandalorians have been shielded for the most part from them by the True Mandalorians.  Warriors who adhere to the traditional language and armor, men and women, anonymous, faceless in their armor, who have fought and died to keep ALL of Mandalore safe!  If we are to pride ourselves on our intellect and our words, then we must acknowledge the difference.  Further, we already coexist with them and they have died for us and for our children!”  

Satine stood as the murmurs swept the New Mandalorian section.  She continued, “I have met Mand’alor Jaster Mereel.  His vision for Mandalore accounts for the New Mandalorians’ wish for pacifism yet unifies our wish with the Resol'nare. 

One: Ba’jur, education; we can teach our children our history, our way, and who we are.

Two: Beskar’gam, Armor; we are so used to seeing Mandalorian armor as an offensive weapon, but if we want to change the perception of Mandalorians armored, weaponless Mandalorians will do far more to change public perception than blending into the mass of galactic society.

Three: Ara’nov, self defence;  We scorn akalenedat as too aggressive, but there are more ways to defend ourselves than beating our opponents senseless.  There are non-violent self-defense arts out there and I will see them become more popular here on Mandalore. 

Four: aliit, Clan and family: Is this not why we espouse pacifism? To defend our families and to live in peace with them?

Five: Mando’a, language.  As New Mandalorians, we have tried to erase Mando’a, claiming it to be a violent language, but it is our heritage and if we erase it, we cannot learn from it nor reclaim it in our own fashion.

Six: Mand’alor, our leader.  I grew up hearing the stories from my fellow New Mandalorians that Jaster Mereel was a man of violence, a general, and someone who will not hesitate to kill an enemy.  What we didn’t know about him is his love of books, his profound love of Mandalorian culture, his willingness to compromise so that New Mandalorians can answer his call in the future without compromising our own beliefs!

That is why I am here today! To urge you to UNITE Mandalore and help direct the path we will take in the future.  The clans have sworn, the Kyraryc’ade  have sworn, the True Mandalorians have sworn, and together with the New Mandalorians, we will stand as a united Mandalore.”

She turned to Jaster and his impassive mask, shedding her long outer robe to reveal an armored bodice, backplate, and bracers over a dress, “Mand’alor, hear my vow: Ba’jur, beskar’gam, ‘Ara’nov, aliit, ‘Mando’a bal Mand’alor, Haat, Ijaa, Haa'it.” 

The assembly erupted into pandemonium and soon the roar resolved itself into a deafening chant, “Jorad’alor! Jorad’alor! Jorad’alor! Jorad’alor!”

She blinked as Jaster stood, the cries of the crowd calling for her to be appointed the voice of Mandalore continuing to echo and walked toward her.  “Elek? Nayc?”

She looked at him and remembered the traditional words of Our lives for Mandalore, “Cun oyay.” 

She could sense the smile as he turned her to face the assembly.  The Mythosaur roared and the crowd fell silent, Jaster taking the opportunity to lift her hand and roar out “Jorad’alor!” into the silence.

The crowd roared in agreement and Satine looked baffled at the acclaim, looking to her father.  He was beaming and applauding her with the crowd, but when he caught her eye, he mouthed, “That’s my girl,” with a look of pride at her accomplishment on his face.  

With majority of the New Mandalorians persuaded by the speech and the immediate appointment of Satine as Jorad’alor, the following day had turned into a debate over what the new society would look like.  Satine pushed herself back from the table with a sigh as she stretched.

Jaster opened his mouth to say something, but an explosion rocked the building with a thunderous BOOM!

Debris fell from the ceiling along with armored figures.  Blaster fire echoed as the assembled Mandalorians returned fire, scattering to defensive positions whiled shepherding the New Mandalorians to safety. 

Tor Vizla landed heavily in front of Satine and Jaster before igniting the Darksaber.  The black blade crackled and hummed as he leveled it.  “Dar’manda scum.  You don’t even have the dignity to appoint a warrior to the position.”

Jaster shrugged, “Personally, I think kidnapping, torturing, and brainwashing kids is a far more disqualifying.  In any event, I do choose a warrior, one who will passionately fight her battles with her words, which is the whole point of the position after all.”  In the midst of the battle, Jaster’s sneer, hidden behind the mask, reverberated through his words. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Tor? You destroy and destroy and destroy, but you haven’t built anything other than a organization of bloodthirsty killers that is only interested in death and destruction.  Once you die, you will be a footnote in the history of Mandalorian conquerors.”  

Tor howled in fury and lifted the blade in a high overhead cut that was stopped by someone slipping by Jaster with an ornate short sword and a practical beskar dagger.  Irulan threw the darksaber back and kicked Tor in the chest, stalking forward as he staggered back.  “You have no right to challenge the Mand’alor in single combat.  You are dar’manda and demagolka, unfit to bear the armor or the title.”  She smiled, “I, Princess Irulan of House Corrino , Head of the Imperial Archive, Designated Heir Apparent with Imperial Right of Representation, ven’riddur to Jango Fett, Ad be Mand’alor, do challenge you, demagolka, to the death.”

He snarled and lunged, Irulan side-stepping the thrusting blade and slamming the flat of her blade against his helmet.  As he staggered, Irulan stabbed her beskar dagger in a sloppy thrust that just missed his hand, close enough for her ring to touch his armor-woven glove.  She stepped back and blocked his next flurry of blows.  He drew back, calculating, aimed a cut, and stumbled.  Irulan smiled behind her helmet and stabbed Tor in the leg, tearing through an unarmored section on his upper thigh. She backed up, twirled her blades, and lunged forward in a blistering series of attacks that left Tor bleeding from a number of fresh wounds.  Tor collapsed to his knees and Irulan stepped forward to kneel in front of him. She whispered just loud enough to hear him, “Sardaukar trained, demagolka.  That first stab that missed you? My flip-dart didn’t miss.” She smiled at the fury in his eyes, “No more children. No more warlord wannabe.  No more threats to my new family.”  She stabbed him through the throat and Tor’s eyes glazed over as he died, choking on his blood.

Jaster nodded in satisfaction, but then felt something wrap around his throat and squeeze. 

Komari hung back with the other members of the Ka’ra’ade who were acting as snipers with their force-enhanced reflexes.  The few Death Watch that survived the initial drop were fleeing and Komari nodded in satisfaction as she studied the hall when she felt something dark pull on the Force and reach for Jaster’s throat.  Two of the Ka’ra’ade reached the tendrils in the force and disrupted the force choke; Komari had followed the disturbance to the rafters and shadow-walked up.  She drew her blades when the small black cloaked figure looked up at her and Komari couldn’t help herself as she met the yellow gaze of the horned figure.

“Awww, he’s so cute!”

He snarled and ignited a red lightsaber, lunging forward.  Komari deflected again, again, and again, alternating cooing over how cute he was with compliments to his lightsaber form.  They sparred, the little dar’jetti getting progressively angrier and angrier at Komari’s unrelenting praise and optimism. 

Komari heard the other Ka’ra’ade approaching and she took the little dar’jetti with a sliding tackled that disarmed and tranquilized him in a single motion.

Xanatos whistled as he walked up the ramp to the ship that Komari had taken to Mandalore, Komari having caught an earlier heighliner run before the conference officially ended.  The conference had been wildly successful breaking the back of Death Watch and Princess Irulan had been appointed as the Blade of Mandalore; a position inherited by bloodline which would be useful in the marriage alliance between Mandalore and Arrakis.  His own mission to bring the Verpine into an alliance with Arrakis had been successful as well, ensuring another major droid designer and manufacturer in the Atreides empire.

Komari smiled from her perch on a large beskar box when Xanatos entered.  “Xanatos… do you remember the promise when we got married about how we will raise warriors? 

“Yes…”  Xanatos extended his force sense towards her stomach, but nothing registered.  She smiled brightly at his force scan and shook her head.

“Not pregnant.”

“Ok.  We will raise warriors, why are you asking?”

Komari hopped off the box, pulled the lock off, and tipped it over.

A black clad, red-skinned blur erupted from the box and leapt at Komari who extended her left arm to block him.  The mysterious kid latched on, wrapping his arms around her arm and sunk his teeth into her arm.  She swung him around and he narrowed slitted eyes at Xanatos while he chewed on the armorweave suit.  Komari looked at the feral kid with pride as if he wasn’t trying to eat her arm and then up at Xanatos with a beaming smile, “Congratulations, it’s a boy!”