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Chapter Text

Starts during The Clone Wars, Season 3, "The Hunt for Ziro"

Panic in the Outer Rim! The closure of the SALIN CORRIDOR, a hyperspace lane needed to ensure the safe delivery of food and supplies to dozens of Neutral Systems, has stretched on for many months. Entire worlds have begun to starve and panic is setting in. The DUCHESS OF MANDALORE, knowing that the closing of the Salin Corridor is a veiled attempt to punish her for refusing to commit the resources of the Council of Neutral Systems to the Republic's war with the Separatists, returns to Coruscant to plead for the lives and livelihoods of the Mandalore system and the other sectors affected by this egregious act.

Chapter One

The Duchess of Mandalore breathed deeply and tried to drown out the cacophony around her.

In times like this, she often thought of the painting that still hung in the palace in Sundari. It was a painting of her world, but based on what it had looked like before centuries of war had turned a planet of beauty into a landscape of dust. There was a forest, with a lake and mountains in the distance, painted with large casual strokes—an artistic hallmark of her father's generation—that evoked a feeling of movement and life. In her mind, she conjured up the splotches of bright colors that dotted the canvas: blues and greens and scarlets that would never again be seen on the planet itself. Eyes closed, she focused on the feeling of her fingernails digging into her palms and centered herself.

But far from producing the calming effect the practice usually brought, the image blew away like sand on the wind. The uproarious noise enveloping her reminded Satine of the enormous swirling vortexes that periodically afflicted the desolate Mandalorian landscape. The blinding winds picked up mammoth amounts of sand and shifted valleys and plains. Sometimes they buried entire cities, which was—more than anything else—the reason why the beskar-enforced domes had been built so long ago. The vortexes were the stuff of nightmares, to be avoided at any and all costs.

And right now, Satine Kryze felt as if she were in the eye of the storm.

The angry voices of hundreds of opinionated politicians—a redundant phrase, she thought to herself —hurtled toward Satine's floating Senate pod. The cavernous room ate up the individual words being thrown at her, and for that she was grateful. She'd known that returning to Coruscant after her last visit would be controversial. She certainly hadn't expected to be well-received, and she'd been correct in her assessment.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed her palm against the display that once again activated her vocal amplifier.

"Members of the Senate, please! I ask you to focus on the matter at hand; my people, and those of so many other worlds, are starving!" She could hear her own voice ripple around the room and return to her, but it was her voice alone, which she hoped meant people were listening. "We have been unable to receive adequate food and supplies. The decision of this body to close the Salin Corridor and divert traffic away from the sector will cripple our region. I beg of you to reconsider, and reopen the hyperspace lane so that we may trade freely with the Republic again!"

"Traitoress!"

"We've all got problems!"

"Maybe you should have thought before stiffing the Republic!"

Satine heard several of the insults before the rattle of voices grew once again to a din. She should have expected it, considering she was unabashedly laying blame on the Senate for the current situation. But they deserved to hear it. They'd passed this legislation when all but one of the representatives of the region the bill would negatively affect had been absent. The representative of Mandalore—Ama Terac, who Satine herself had just appointed to serve the rest of Tal Merrik's term—hadn't even arrived on Coruscant to begin her service before the bill had been proposed and passed. Satine didn't think that had been an oversight. She pursed her lips and spoke again.

"I argued once before for the right of Republic systems to remain neutral in the ongoing war with the Separatists. With support from over a thousand worlds and confirmation from this assembly, I was assured that we had that right." The crowd wasn't listening anymore, and she found her words coming louder now, clipped with anger and indignation. "And yet now we find Mandalore and several nearby systems punished for that decision! We ask that—"

"Order! Order! I ask for order in the Senate." A resonant voice cut her off, and Satine turned to the supreme chancellor's pillar in the center of the room. Mas Amedda hit his staff against the metallic floor, presumably to silence the frenzied senators, though Satine didn't think he'd been very concerned about order when the voices had been directed at her earlier. He sat, and Chancellor Palpatine held up his hand.

"Duchess Satine, if I may," he said. "It's clear that tempers are already elevated. If we are to continue this conversation, we must have decorum in this chamber."

The comment was general, seemingly addressed to the assembly, but the tone was pointed. Satine chastised herself for letting her anger get the better of her even as she burned at being singled out. She tried to breathe deeply, but it came out as a huff. And then another one. Still, she swore that she wouldn't give them any more ammunition to mistake righteous indignation for the ramblings of a hysterical woman. Not again.

"Now, is there anyone else who would like to respond to the topic at hand?"

"Supreme Chancellor." Another pod, its occupant an ashen-faced man with white hair, floated into the center of the room.

"The chair recognizes the Senator from Umbara."

Satine only knew Senator Mee Deechi by name, but Padme had described him accurately enough for her to identify him on sight. His face was all angles, his gaunt skin pulled tight—like canvas overstretched on a frame—and the gray markings around his eyes gave the appearance of a living skull. Padme had called him a warmonger and complained of his fervent dispute of several proposals designed to de-escalate the war with the Separatists.

"Duchess Kryze, your people are in a difficult position, and for that, I am sympathetic." His voice was low and resonant, and in spite of his words, completely devoid of warmth. "However, this body's decision to pass the Gordian Reach Hyperspace Lane Fortification Act had nothing to do with barring Mandalore or the surrounding systems from galactic trading, and I, for one, find it curious that you are so quick to speak against all the good this legislation has done."

"Senator, a bill named for its positive intentions may still have negative effects." She'd almost said "unintended effects," but she still suspected they were anything but. "I am not ignorant of the reasoning behind this legislation. I understand that closing the Salin Corridor allowed the Republic to reassign security forces to the Junction Tierrel Loop, located further into the Outer Rim and closer to Separatist space. And also that that extra security is helping to protect traveling ships from dangers along that route."

Senator Deechi stretched one eyebrow. "And you understand that such a thing is ultimately a boon to your world as it is designed as a blockade to stop the spread of the Separatist armies into Mandalorian space."

"As I said, Senator Deechi, I am aware," Satine responded, images of Count Dooku's dreaded droid armies intruding into her mind. "However, while fortifying the Junction Tierrel Loop is admirable, it does not change the fact that the loss of the Salin Corridor has resulted in food shortages on Mandalore and many other worlds. If both routes could be open and maintained, we would all benefit."

"The Republic is involved in fighting a war that you have no interest in contributing to," Senator Deechi mused, "and you propose we devote more of the Republic's credits to keeping both lanes open?"

"In the interest of ensuring Mandalore will be able to contribute economically to the Republic, yes, that is what I am proposing."

The two pods rotated around the chamber as they floated freely. Ostensibly, it was to ensure that the entire assembly had a view of the parties in the discussion, but Satine felt as if she was circling an opponent in a sparring match.

"The economic benefit of neither Mandalore's imports nor exports is enough to justify the reopening of the Salin Corridor," Deechi demurred, steepling his long, bony fingers in front of him. "Not unless you are proposing something of more value ."

Satine narrowed her eyes. "I am proposing exactly that which the Republic has always been able to rely upon. Imports of food and a variety of supplies for Mandalore, and exports of the best crafts our system has to offer: the finest wine and ships from Kalevala, rugs from Harswee, lapis from Draboon."

"Luxury items have little relevance in the midst of war, Duchess," Deechi said. "These days our needs are a bit more ... practical."

A ball of irritation coalesced in her gut, but Satine bit her tongue and forced herself to play coy. Senator Deechi could allude all he wanted, but if he was talking about what she thought he was, he would have to say so explicitly before she said anything more. "Senator Deechi, I am not quite sure what you have in mind."

Had she blinked, she may have missed the Umbaran's colorless eyes darting toward the Supreme Chancellor, who almost imperceptibly inclined his head. "Beskar, Duchess Kryze. The Republic is in need of beskar, and you will be paid handsomely for it."

Satine clenched her fists and spoke pointedly enough that the underground denizens of Level 1313 would hear and understand. "I have made it clear that as long as there is war, our beskar will not be traded to either Republic or Separatist worlds."

"Not even so that we may bring a quick and decisive end to this fighting?"

"Decisiveness could come through negotiation and compromise." Or had he forgotten what it meant to be a pacifist? "I will not allow beskar to be used in military technology in order to bolster either side in this conflict."

Senator Deechi gave an unfazed shrug. "Then it seems you will be finding your own method for providing for your people."

Satine's jaw dropped. The chamber erupted as the assembly reacted, but this time there seemed to be just as many voices expressing displeasure to Deechi's words as there were those that cheered in approval of the things he said.

Satine had suspected this had all been meant to punish her for remaining neutral, and for creating the Council of Neutral Systems, which allowed others to do the same. Her advisors had told her she was being cynical. Perhaps she hadn't been cynical enough.

Was this the whole point of the matter? Was this the reason the corridor had been closed? It was not hard to believe that the Republic Senate had unspoken motives for legislation it enacted. But passing bills designed to starve her people out and force her to contribute to the war effort in spite of her neutral status? Even if the hyperspace lane fortification bill would protect other worlds in the Outer Rim, the motive behind its passage was unthinkable. Reprehensible. And Satine could think of nothing to say that wouldn't get her removed from the chamber for disorderly conduct.

She felt a presence at her side, and only when Korkie discretely took her hand did she realize she was shaking with fury. He gave a squeeze, and Satine focused solely on him. Concern for her shown in his deep, blue eyes, and responded with a smile, small but genuine. She breathed deeply, already feeling more at peace in the midst of chaos. He would never know how much comfort he brought her. She hardly had to look down at him now. He'd gone through another growth spurt in the last several months and stood nearly as tall as her. Perhaps it was natural for her to still see him as the toddler who crawled in bed with her when he had a nightmare, but his stubbornly set jaw and furrowed brow reminded her that he wasn't a child anymore. There was a question in his look, and with an assenting nod and her own small squeeze, she stepped back to allow him to stand in front of the pod.

"Supreme Chancellor?" The microphone didn't immediately pick up his voice, so loud was the ambient noise coming from the rest of the Senate, but Korkie stepped closer and spoke again, louder this time. "Supreme Chancellor, may I speak?"

Mas Amedda struck the ground with his staff and called for order, but the crowd had already started to quiet at the sound of the unexpectedly youthful voice. Palpatine looked slightly surprised but recognized Korkie's legitimacy to speak. Satine worried her lip on his behalf.

"Members of the Senate. My name is Prince Kor Kryze of Mandalore. I am a student at the Royal Academy of Government in Sundari. Let me assure you that our situation is as dire as you have heard." His voice reverberated through the room with a confidence that filled Satine's heart with pride. "Mandalore's food has been rationed for months, and there are no alternatives to be found. None that are legal, in any case."

As Satine expected, there was a rumbling response to that, but Korkie seemed to anticipate it. He held up a hand and continued. Satine smiled. He was a natural.

"No doubt you have heard of the crimes against our now-former prime minister, Rel Almec." He placed a hand on his chest and swept his eyes over the assembly. "I was one of the students who helped to uncover that corruption within Mandalore's administration, a discovery which came from a desire to understand why our people were starving. What we found was a thriving black market, which Almec both participated in and cultivated. He has been removed from office for this act, and the other offenders have been rooted out.

"This action should convince you that we have no desire to feed our people through fraudulent means. However, if you will not vote to help us, you are sending a message that the only available options for survival are giving in to greed and corruption. We must continue this conversation and find a sustainable solution that will benefit both Mandalore and the Republic."

The senate responded again, but this time the sound was that of encouraging applause. Whether it was due to them still having allies in the Senate or politicians simply seeking to encourage a young speaker, Satine wasn't sure. And at the moment, she didn't care.

Chancellor Palpatine was applauding as well, a slow, respectful clap that conveyed an appreciation for more than Korkie's youth. Korkie had spoken well, and in spite of her misgivings toward the chancellor, Satine was glad that Palpatine saw it.

"The Chair acknowledges the difficult situation that Mandalore and its surrounding sectors are in. We thank the representatives from Mandalore for bringing this issue to our attention. We will continue this conversation in the next session."

A light applause began again. Korkie turned to look at her, and Satine smiled more broadly than she had in weeks. She wished she'd had his composure when she'd first addressed the Republic Senate. Seeing her pride, Korkie sighed heavily—his slumped shoulders the only sign of how anxious he'd been—and Satine clapped along with the members of the Senate.

Chapter Text

Korkie's speech didn't change anything. The polite applause and the Chancellor's hopeful words were really just hollow platitudes for a young boy who had been brave in an intimidating situation. Another discussion followed, once again criticizing Aunt Satine for rejecting Republic assistance when Death Watch was a problem, and a vote came after that, with very little change from the original vote that had resulted in the Salin Corridor being shut down.

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Korkie didn't know how his aunt did it. He was exhausted just from speaking before the Senate for two minutes. Sure, it was his first time, and people were probably always nervous the first time they addressed thousands of galactic leaders at once. But it felt worthless. He hadn't changed anyone's mind, Mandalore was in the same problem it was before, and he hadn't liked listening to the Senate insult his aunt.

He could tell that she was upset by the whole experience, but she was doing her best not to let him see it. The fact that she hadn't stopped doting on him since his speech told him so. If she had felt it would do any good, she would be brainstorming other ideas. Other people to talk to. Other avenues to exhaust. Instead, after they left the Senate chamber, she pulled him into a corner and kissed his forehead. She told him once again how articulate he was and how proud she was of him and how he was a natural at all of this. His still-pounding heart didn't make Korkie feel like a natural, but he wasn't going to take her excitement away. So he just said, "I had a good teacher," which made her press her forehead to his.

She threaded her arm through his and—followed by her omnipresent Protector—they walked down the hallway, which was now filling with other senators from the session. Aunt Satine's smile disappeared, replaced with a cool air of disinterest, as if nothing noteworthy had happened in the last few hours. For the most part, the senators paid her no attention, though a few cast narrowed glares or sympathetic glances their way. Korkie's aunt ignored them all.

"We need to get back home soon, but do you want to get something to eat?" she said with a forced lightness in her voice.

They might as well. Mandalore had been on strict rationing for months, and Korkie's stomach rumbled at the thought of a nice, juicy nerfburger. Maybe he could even get some to take home to his friends. They'd be indebted to him for a year if he showed up with anything other than reconstituted meal packets. Soniee would wave her hands the way she did when she got excited. Amis might be so surprised he'd probably kiss him. Though he'd rather Lagos be the one...

He was thankful when a different thought shoved that one away.

"Do you think we have time to go somewhere else instead?" he asked hopefully.

Aunt Satine furrowed her brow. "What did you have in mind?"

He started to answer, but another voice called out his aunt's name. A short and slight senator dressed in a purple robe and her hair in a headdress approached them. Korkie recognized Senator Amidala from her recent trip to Mandalore, though they hadn't had a chance to meet before. Immediately, Aunt Satine wrapped her arms around her—a surprise considering how careful she usually was to act with professionalism when on Coruscant—and Amidala returned the gesture, though she seemed to exhibit more hesitancy given their surroundings. Perhaps that's why the senator was the first to pull away, though she still held onto Aunt Satine's hands. "I am so sorry for what happened. The things Senator Deechi was saying are egregious, and it's like the Senate has forgotten how to behave."

"I'm sure everyone's still on edge," Aunt Satine responded. "I saw the news reports of last week's attack. Are you alright?"

The Senate had been locked down several days before because of a bounty hunter who had stormed the building and taken a dozen senators—including Senator Amidala—hostage in exchange for the release of the crime lord Ziro the Hutt.

"I'm fine. Shaken, but fine. There was some damage to the building, and Senator Philo didn't make it," she said regretfully, "but it could have been much worse. We were all lucky that Master Skywalker was around."

Aunt Satine's voice was affectionate when she responded, "Yes, it does seem he has a habit of being around just when it's most necessary."

Korkie's ears perked up at the mention of Anakin Skywalker. He'd seen the Jedi knight briefly when he'd come to Mandalore to drop Ahsoka off. He was—according to the most recent Jedi Knight reference book—the best and bravest Jedi in the entire order. Korkie'd like to meet him for real sometime. Which reminded him. They only had so much time before they had to leave.

"Is Master Skywalker at the Jedi Temple today?" Korkie piped up impulsively.

Senator Amidala turned to look at him. If Korkie hadn't been as good at reading people, he would have missed the curious look of unease that flashed in her eyes and which was masked as soon as it had existed.

"Oh, I certainly wouldn't have a reason to know Master Skywalker's schedule," she said with a breathy laugh.

"Forgive me, Padmé My nephew has a slight preoccupation with the Jedi." Aunt Satine broke in quickly, but she was smiling. Still, Korkie felt silly for asking. Why would a Republic senator know a Jedi's schedule? "Korkie, this is Senator Amidala from Naboo."

"A pleasure to meet you, Senator." He inclined his head, and she waved a hand.

"Please, call me Padmé. I have enough people who insist on using my titles." She smiled warmly at him. "Besides, it won't be long before you're here as a peer. You did a wonderful job speaking today."

Korkie blushed as his heart warmed with the praise.

"I gave my first speech to the Galactic Senate when I was only fourteen," Padmé continued. "I know how nerve-wracking it is, but you chose your words well."

"Does it ever get easier?" Korkie asked.

Padmé gave a sympathetic shake of her head. "No, not really. It just becomes more normal."

Korkie pursed his lips. He was attending the Royal Academy for statecraft, and he knew he was good at it. At least the bookwork. He thought he'd be more prepared for the actual act of advocating for his people, but he was still shaking, his body keyed up from the adrenaline.

"It was your first time addressing the Senate, cyar'ika," Aunt Satine said. "Don't read too much into your reaction."

"What about the result?" he asked, a little defeatedly. His aunt's eyes dimmed.

"Don't think about the result," Padmé told them both. "I'm sure we'll think of something else to pursue."

Aunt Satine shook her head. "I admire your optimism, Padmé, but I think you underestimate how offended the Senate was by my refusal to accept Republic assistance to deal with Death Watch the last time I was here. I doubt there's anything that will convince them Mandalore is worth investing in."

Padmé looked as if she didn't want to believe it. Korkie didn't either. Or else what was the point of Mandalore being in the Republic at all? What were they benefiting from, especially if the Senate truly was punishing Aunt Satine for refusing to contribute to the war effort?

"Well, at least I can help in the short term." Padmé's expression was determined. "Will you be sticking around for the day?"

Korkie looked at his aunt, who shook her head. "I'd love to, Padmé, but we really need to get back. I've left our new prime minister on his own long enough, and we need to spend every moment we can figuring out an alternative option for Mandalore's food shortage."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," the senator said. "Did you travel in the Coronet? How much space do you have in the storage holds?"

"Nearly all of it."

"Stay here. Take the afternoon off. I'll make a few comms and my people will fill the hold with food, supplies, whatever you need. You'll be ready to travel by this evening."

Korkie's eyes widened in excitement. It was perfect! They could return with supplies and still have some time to enjoy the city. But when he turned to his aunt, she was shaking her head. "Padmé, please, you don't have to do that. It's not your responsibility."

"I insist," she responded. "It's something that I can do, and it will help for a little while, won't it?"

If all of the cargo areas of the Coronet could be filled?

"For Sundari, yes," Aunt Satine said. "It would help a great deal."

"Then let me help." Padmé placed her hand on Satine's shoulder. "You have the weight of an entire system on your shoulders. Let me bear it for a moment, my friend."

Korkie looked sympathetically at his aunt. She stood as rigid as she usually did—alone against the galaxy—but Korkie saw the moment the tension faded in her jaw and her furrowed brow, and then the rest of her body. She looked well and truly exhausted, and though she remained steady, Korkie reached out to take her arm.

She blinked hard, twice, and then whispered, "Thank you."

Padmé smiled. "Of course. I'll have Typho connect with your guards, and we'll arrange for everything to be delivered and stored away."

Aunt Satine motioned to her Protector—a tall, burly man named Porthos—to join the conversation, and the three of them brainstormed a list of the most essential food and supplies that Sundari needed. Porthos was the captain of the Royal Guard, first within their ranks, but in light of the recent hostage crisis in the Senate, he'd insisted on taking direct responsibility for their safety on Coruscant. Korkie liked him. He was a busy man, but he'd taken some time to teach Korkie and his friends some effective hand-to-hand moves after the incident with Almec's guards.

"And now all that remains is to decide how you're going to spend your afternoon on Coruscant," Padmé said brightly when they'd finished their list. "I wish I could join you, but we have another session very soon."

She looked at Korkie. "If you have an interest in seeing Master Skywalker, I'm sure you could ask at the Temple to see if he's available."

Korkie's eyes went wide. "Could we, Auntie? Just for a little while?"

Aunt Satine seemed taken off-guard by the request. "Oh, Korkie. I don't know if—"

"Duchess Kryze."

They were interrupted again, this time by a less inviting presence. Korkie straightened, and his aunt did the same, as Chancellor Palpatine and the Chagrian vice-chair Mas Amedda came toward them. "Duchess, I am pleased to have caught you before your departure. My apologies for interrupting, Senator Amidala, but if you'll excuse us."

The Chancellor's voice was jovial, but it was clear it wasn't really a request.

"Of course, Chancellor." Padmé glanced regretfully at Aunt Satine but moved away.

"Duchess, I wanted to speak face-to-face with you before you left to let you know how genuinely sorry I am that the Senate is not able to offer assistance at this time. I'm sure you know how these things work. There is always a greater context to consider."

"I understand, Chancellor," Aunt Satine said in a neutral tone.

"We don't have the ability to keep both hyperspace lanes open at the moment, but if there is any other way that the Senate could render assistance, please feel free to ask. We always want to make sure that our neutral systems still feel heard and valued within the Republic."

"I certainly will." Her smile was pinched. Korkie knew he wasn't the only one to notice that Palpatine didn't bring up Senator Deechi's comment about beskar being the proverbial key to opening up the Salin Corridor again. Should he say something? Could he say something? His instinct was to stand up against Palpatine's implication that the Senate's inability to help Mandalore was merely financial when it was now clear there was much more at play. Then again, Korkie didn't want to make this situation worse by leveling an accusation against the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. But before he could make a decision, Palpatine had turned to look his way.

"I also wanted a chance to greet this erudite young man." He smiled and extended a hand to Korkie. Out of habit and decorum, Korkie returned the handshake, a feeling of unrest running through him. Palpatine's disquieting eyes lingered on his face longer than he found comfortable. Could the Chancellor sense his dislike of him? How far would Korkie get in diplomatic relations if everyone could sense his true feelings? "Thank you for your contributions today, my boy. They were most appreciated."

"Thank you, Chancellor," Korkie said, managing what he hoped could be considered a neutral expression.

"Duchess, I had no idea you were a mother." Palpatine turned away, and Korkie pulled his hand from his.

"Aunt, actually. Korkie is my nephew."

Though it wasn't the first time someone had made that mistake. It had become a little joke between them.

"But also your heir, I assume," Palpatine said.

"Yes," Aunt Satine confirmed, "if elected by the people."

"Of course. You should have no problem with that," he told Korkie. "A fine future ruler of Mandalore, if I do say so myself."

Palpatine placed his hands on Korkie's shoulders in what he assumed was supposed to be a grandfatherly blessing. "My boy, may you serve your people well and"—his wizened eyes settled on Auntie Satine—"may good health and fortune keep you from taking the throne for many, many more years."

Korkie didn't know what to say to that.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Chancellor," his aunt said curtly. She gripped his arm and pulled him away. "Come, Korkie."

Korkie had no objections. As they brushed past Mas Amedda, however, Palpatine spoke once again. "Oh, Duchess, if it's not too much to ask: when you see Master Kenobi, would you let him know I'd like to speak with him?"

Aunt Satine froze, and though Korkie didn't much like Chancellor Palpatine, he wondered why she seemed so disquieted by his seemingly conversational words. She and Master Kenobi were friends. They'd known each other since before Korkie was born.

Aunt Satine turned to face Palpatine, and in a voice more diplomatic than Korkie had ever heard, she said, "A simple request, Chancellor, but not one I will be able to fulfill. I have no plans to see Master Kenobi on this visit."

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel, and Korkie followed.

Sheev Palpatine fancied himself an observant man—a reader of people—but he refused to make conclusions without evidence. Thankfully, the holonet was the great democratizer of information, and Palpatine loved democracy.

He returned to the privacy of his office. A few private keyword searches later and he had learned a great deal about the woman who ruled the Mandalore system. A biography for the Journal of Modern Statecraft went on and on about her extensive building projects in Sundari, her conservation efforts to restore the over-mined moon of Concordia, and—most recently—her appointment to leader of the 1,500 rebellious systems that had refused to support the Republic in the war against the Separatists. It was a disgrace.

Sheev closed out of the tab, noting that the biography had included very little information about Satine Kryze's childhood beyond the fact that she'd been born nearly four decades before, the daughter of the late warlord Adonai Kryze, who had rejected the title of Mand'alor in favor of Duke. Thankfully, there were other sources that were more helpful. A police report confirmed that the duchess's mother, Lady Bo-Kira, had been assassinated in the Kryze family's Coruscanti apartment. A twenty-five-year-old exposé teased that after much deliberation, an inside source could confirm that the young Duchess Satine had decided to officially come out in favor of the New Mandalorian pacifists, a decision that put her at odds with her younger twin sister—so there was another sibling—with whom the girl had previously been very close.

And then an explosion of holo articles and news reports announcing that Duke Adonai had been assassinated in the three-pronged civil war that raged on Mandalore twenty years previously. The Duke had been taken unawares by members of a group called Death Watch, and then—Sheev flipped to the next report—there was reason to believe that upon the death of her father, the younger twin, Lady Bo-Katan, had defected and joined the enemies of the pacifists. As for the elder daughter, Sheev could find little about her whereabouts. Satine had been enrolled at the University of Coruscant when the news of her father's demise had reached her, but the tabloids could offer nothing more than wild speculation of her whereabouts in the months afterward. It was suggested that she had gone into hiding off-planet, and Sheev had his suspicions ...

And there it was. His Mando'a was rudimentary, but he knew the title of the news report heralded the duchess's return to Mandalore. More important than the text was the holograph of a younger Satine Kryze—looking pensive and wan—standing on the balcony of the Sundari palace in front of a huge crowd of applauding people. The date of the report was more than a year after her father's death. Presumably, she'd been on the run that entire time, attended to and protected by the two Jedi standing in the background of the holo.

Qui-Gon Jinn looked much as he had the last time Sheev had seen him alive. Obi-Wan Kenobi looked much different, with his shaved face and freshly cropped hair. He stood straight, hands clasped behind his back. His demeanor was serious, as it always was, but his gaze was fixed on the duchess, with an expression that bespoke far more than casual friendship. Sheev grinned. His suspicions were well-founded.

And now the boy.

There was next to nothing about him on the holonet—the duchess must have kept him out of the public eye. There were no official announcements of his birth from the administration in Sundari. No interviews with the prince on his plans for the future. Not even a tabloid tell-all promising gossip about the young royal. But it was impossible to be completely invisible in this day and age. Undeterred, Sheev activated his comm.

"Your Excellency?" Mas Amedda said.

"Please contact Senate security and request visitor identification details for Kor Kryze of Mandalore."

"Right away, Chancellor."

The transmission ended. Palpatine was grateful for a vice chair who rarely questioned him and never denied his requests. The records would be in his hands in a matter of minutes. He was certain of what they would show. The boy looked to be in his mid-teens, a child taking his final steps into young adulthood. The recorded birthdate on the senate entrance form would confirm that he had been born within the year after the Jedi had protected the Duchess. The conclusion was circumstantial, but not without base or reasoning.

Plus, he had felt it. He had felt the boy's force sensitivity when they had shaken hands. He didn't know if he knew. The flame was dim. Uncultivated. In time, it could fade completely. But that moment had told him something the holonet articles couldn't confirm. The duchess may have a sister, but this boy was not Lady Bo-Katan's child. The Dark whispered the young prince's significance, and Sheev began to consider his usefulness. He leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands in front of him. Yes, he would have his evidence. Now, he just needed to decide what to do with it.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka Tano huffed up the steps to the Senate building. It wasn't far from the Jedi Temple, but she had gotten Padmé's message about meeting up with the Duchess and Korkie, had told the boy she was sparring with that she'd have to kick his shebs later, and then raced across town as fast as she could. She didn't want to miss them before they left.

Thankfully, she didn't have too long to look. The Senate must have still been in session since there were relatively few people entering and exiting, but it was impossible to miss the Mandalorian Duchess on the Senate stairs in her oversized headdress. Korkie walked beside her with one of their Protectors a pace behind.

"Duchess Satine!" Ahsoka called out, and all three heads swiveled to her.

Satine smiled broadly as she approached. "Ahsoka, it's so good to see you!"

She pulled Ahsoka in for a hug when she got closer. Ahsoka stiffened for a moment, unused to such public affection, but she knew the Duchess was a hugger. The Padawan smiled and returned the gesture, enjoying the scent of the peace lilies in Satine's hair. The Duchess pulled away to look her over.

"You've grown since I saw you last."

Ahsoka caught sight of Korkie behind his aunt. "So has he!"

Korkie reached out his arm to clasp forearms with her. "It's good to see you, Ahsoka."

"I'm glad I caught you," she replied, and then, in response to their confused expressions, said, "Padmé commed me and told me you were here."

"Yes," Satine said with a smile. "We've been met with an unexpected afternoon in Coruscant, and we'd welcome your company."

"Well, what should we do?" Ahsoka asked. She looked at Korkie. "Do you get to Coruscant often?"

The boy shook his head. "Years ago. I hardly remember the last time I was here."

"Then you need to see the sights! We could go to the Coruscant Museum, or the tip of Mount Umate in Monument Plaza. Or if you're interested, I could take you to see the Temple."

"Yes! That sounds great!" Korkie turned to the Duchess. "Auntie, may we?"

"Korkie, we can't—"

"Just because you told the Chancellor that you weren't planning to see Master Kenobi doesn't mean we can't go to the Temple. It's huge! We wouldn't even have to worry about running into him."

Korkie's enthusiasm to see the Temple wasn't surprising—Ahsoka recalled that he'd asked to see her lightsaber the first moment they'd met—but Satine's expression was almost ... panicked? Ahsoka furrowed her brow. She didn't know why Satine wanted to avoid Master Obi-Wan or what the Chancellor had to do with it, but it didn't really matter. "Master Obi-Wan isn't at the Temple right now. He's on a mission with Master Vos."

The hope in Korkie's eyes grew, only to dim as Satine firmly shook her head. "Next time, I promise."

Korkie's disappointment was palpable, but he said nothing more.

"How about lunch?" Ahsoka said. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

Satine smiled. "We'd love to join you."

"Where should we go?"

"Someplace with nerfburgers!" Korkie piped up, determined that something on this trip would go his way.

"You're in luck," Ahsoka said, "because I know the restaurant with the best nerfburgers on the planet. Though it might be kinda informal compared to what you're used to."

Duchess Satine put her hand on Ahsoka's shoulder and continued her walk down the Senate stairs. "Lead the way."

Considering they were in no hurry, Duchess Satine suggested a walk to the restaurant. Ahsoka led the way but hesitated when skyscrapers gave way to squat and rusted buildings, and the air taxis and speeders were replaced by the buses and worker transports of Coco Town.

Still, if good food was what they wanted, there was only one place Ahsoka could think of.

"Dex's Diner," Satine murmured, and Ahsoka wondered if the blinking neon sign always looked this dingy.

The diner was fairly quiet for a workday afternoon. There was a Bival nursing a cup of jawa juice at the counter, a Twi'lek waiting for a take-out order, and three human dockworkers wedged in a booth. A droid wiped off a few tables that had been used during the lunch rush, but other than that, the only noise came from the ambient music and the clank and hiss of equipment in the back.

A young waiter with black hair greeted them and waved them over to a table. Ahsoka and the two Mandalorians slid into the booth, and Ahsoka wondered if the Duchess—no doubt used to the finest establishments Coruscant could offer—was offended by the stickiness that came with a place like this. Satine didn't seem to mind though, and she carefully removed her headdress and placed it next to her on the seat.

Ahsoka trusted Dexter Jettster with her life. What he lacked in reputation, he made up for in dependability and bottomless Neuvian sundaes. Master Obi-Wan had taken Anakin to Dex's when he was a padawan, and her master did the same with her. The Duchess's protector didn't know that, of course, but Ahsoka still resisted the urge to roll her eyes as the man tramped through the diner with his wide helmet and electro-staff, scoping out the entrances and all of the corners inside.

Satisfied that the inside of the diner was free from any potential dangers, Satine's protector moved toward the door to stand watch outside just as the waiter came over to take their orders.

"Porthos, would you like anything?"

"Your grace?" He seemed surprised by the offer. Ahsoka was willing to bet the protectors didn't eat while on duty.

"There's no one around," the Duchess said casually, turning in the booth to look at him.

"That's not necessary, my lady."

Satine turned back to the waiter, who was finishing taking Korkie's burger order, and was just about ready to put in her own order when the burly man spoke again.

"My lady?"

Satine turned back again. Porthos still stood in the doorway.

"A blue milkshake?"

Satine winked at the protector, then added a large blue milkshake to the order.

The waiter returned to the kitchen, and Ahsoka turned to Korkie, seated next to her in the booth. "So, what's new?"

Korkie blew out. "What isn't new?"

Ahsoka grimaced. "I'm sorry, that was stupid."

"Not at all," the Duchess said with a wave of her hand.

"Padmé told me about the reason for your visit," Ahsoka responded. "How can the Senate close trade routes that so many people rely on?"

"They want to punish my aunt for staying out of the war," Korkie said, scowling.

The Duchess didn't correct him, but she did explain further. "They say the Republic's resources will be better used to secure the Gordian Way, which is closer to the Separatists' lines. The Salin Corridor still exists, and can even be used, but the intersections that allow ships to fly into Mandalorian space are no longer protected."

"Which means you have to watch out for pirates." Korkie's disgust couldn't completely disguise his childish excitement. Ahsoka hid her smile behind the glass of water the server brought out.

"And we're not just dealing with issues from the Senate," Duchess Satine sighed. "The situation on Mandalore has become ... unstable."

"Is that because of what we did?" Ahsoka had seen the ongoing holonews reports. It seemed like every day there was a new report on another official in Sundari being sacked. Former Prime Minister Almec's black market network must have been larger than anyone thought. He'd been found guilty of corruption, but in exchange for a shorter sentence, he'd also given up the names of other officials involved, which meant more investigations and trials. Sometimes, Ahsoka wondered if she'd caused more trouble by uncovering Almec's dealings at all.

Duchess Satine reached across the table to take Ahsoka's hand. "You've done us a great honor, Ahsoka. Yes, there were consequences, but we will always be better off by exposing the rot in our society than letting it fester."

Ahsoka smiled and reveled in the feeling of her hand in Satine's. There was something about the Duchess, a warmth unlike anything Ahsoka remembered. The rumors about the Jedi being cold and unfeeling were untrue, but there was a stoicism in them that the Duchess was entirely without. She wore her emotions on her sleeve, and she was stronger for it. Ahsoka remembered the conviction in her angry eyes when she defied Almec and swore that she'd never give into him. It was a courage that Ahsoka had rarely seen outside the Order; she hoped she would have that same strength when it was called for.

"Now tell us," the Duchess said, sitting back in the booth again. "What have you been up to?"

The last few weeks had been a whirlwind. No sooner had she gotten back from Mandalore than Ahsoka had found herself having visions of Senator Amidala's death and traveled to Alderaan in order to protect her during a peace summit being held there.

"Did you see Queen Breha while you were there?" the Duchess asked. "She's a good friend. She and I were roommates during our university days here on Coruscant."

Ahsoka was about to say that no, the Queen of Alderaan had been off-world at that time, but the table gave a shake as the owner of the establishment ambled toward them in a greasy apron and with a tray on each of his four enormous hands.

"I see my favorite little Jedi brought some friends today," Dexter Jettster's voice rumbled, and Duchess Satine turned with a gasp. At first, Ahsoka worried something was wrong, but the Besalisk was staring at the Mandalorian woman with the exact same expression.

"Dex?" Duchess Satine breathed.

"My lady."

Dex only just managed to set the trays down before the Duchess of Mandalore launched herself into his arms, her laughter filled with excitement and recognition.

"I wondered if that was your name on the door!"

Ahsoka looked at Korkie. "Does your aunt know everyone in the galaxy?" she asked, but Korkie's expression said he was just as surprised as she was.

Eventually, Dex placed the Duchess on the ground, but not before Ahsoka saw Porthos register the commotion and duck back inside the restaurant, looking wary but not alarmed. Satine smoothed her dress and composed herself before once again taking her seat in the booth.

"I can see I don't have to introduce you two," Ahsoka said.

"Certainly not!" Satine placed her hand on the Besalisk's arm. "Dex came to my rescue during my time on the run."

"With the Jedi?" Korkie asked.

"The very same!" Dex rumbled as he placed the plates more purposefully in front of each of them. "One of the highlights of my life. It ain't often someone like me gets to ride to the aid of a fair lady, much less a Duchess. That was ... Harswee, wasn't it? Oh, yeah, that's right, because when I got the call, I was finishing up a job on Bandomeer. You were lucky, you know. In those days, we didn't usually stray that close to Mandalorian space. Though I'm sure your shining knight would have come to your rescue eventually. How is your Ben faring these days?"

Korkie bit into nerfburger. "Who's Ben?"

"I haven't the faintest idea, Dex," the Duchess said pointedly, and with a barely imperceptible, "Oh!" Dex changed the subject. "So what brings all the way from the Outer Rim?"

"Politics," the Duchess said in a voice that suggested that was always the answer. "The Republic is once again meddling in Mandalorian affairs and hoping we'll join the war effort. Or else lie down and take their abuse."

Dex crossed both sets of arms. "And neither of those options appeal to a pacifist who never backs down from a fight."

Satine's lips quirked at the contradiction. "Quite so."

Dex turned to Korkie. "And she dragged you along for the ride, did she?" He held out an enormous hand. "What's yer name?"

"Kor. Kor Kryze." He took the giant hand and shook it confidently. Or at least, as confidently as one could shake a hand twice the size of your head.

"It's mighty fine to meet ya, Kor Kryze."

"But I wanted to come," the boy added around another bite of burger. "Coruscant's so much more exciting than home."

"You think so?" Dex drawled. "Well, let me tell you something. I've been all over the galaxy. Slept under the stars of a hundred different worlds, lived on a freighter that nearly shook apart every time we exited hyperspace. Even spent a night in the finest hotel on Taris. But if there's one thing I know, it's that the best place is wherever," he said, conspiratorially, "you can get a decent nerfburger."

Korkie laughed. "That's definitely here."

Dex put a hand on Satine's shoulder. "Second best place is wherever yer mum is."

"Aunt," Korkie and the Duchess said at the same time.

"My mistake," Dex said, his brow ridge furrowed.

"You really knew the Jedi who protected my aunt?" Korkie asked.

"Know 'em. Or rather. One of them. Sad business, that was, about Qui-Gon Jinn." The Duchess couldn't entirely hide the pain that the mention of the Jedi knight brought. "But Obi-Wan comes in here more than he'd probably admit to. He'll tell ya it's to make use of my enormous experience and intellect, but I think he just likes my cake."

"I can't believe you really know Obi-Wan Kenobi!"

Ahsoka smirked and rolled her eyes at the awe in the Mandalorian boy's voice.

Dex chuckled. "I knew 'em ever since he was, oh, about your age. I helped him and a bunch'a feral kids out of a jam on a magical planet. If you're anything like him, and somethin' tells me ya are, yer probably always in more trouble'n yer worth."

"That's for sure," Ahsoka nudged Korkie in the ribs before noticing Duchess Satine covering a cough with her napkin.

"So, Soka," Dex drawled. "How do you know Mandalorian royalty?"

"A solo mission! All on my own!" Ahsoka beamed, leaving out that she'd initially thought she was overly qualified for the assignment to Mandalore. She gestured to the boy next to her. "Korkie and his friends and I took down the Prime Minister for corruption."

Korkie winced. "And pretty much the rest of the government since then."

"Like I said," Dex chuckled. "More trouble'n yer worth."

"Tell us more about saving my aunt and the Jedi," Korkie begged.

Dex gave a dismissive wave. "Ah, you don't want to hear about that."

Around mouthfuls of burger, Ahsoka and Korkie assured him that wasn't true.

"I'm sure Dex is very busy," the Duchess said, but given that the only newcomer was a Dressellian who was being helped by FLO the waitress droid, her words didn't have much conviction.

"On the contrary, Lady Fair." With one hand, Dex dragged over a chair that didn't look capable of holding his weight. He flipped it around so the back was facing the booth, and perched on the seat.

Satine sighed, gestured Porthos over to get his blue milkshake, and then settled herself into the cushioned seat. She'd obviously listened to the tales of Dexter Jettster before, and she was right to make herself comfortable.

"I'll try to cut to the good parts," Dex lied. "But we gotta start at the very beginning. Have either of you heard of ... Bacian blood hornets?"

Chapter Text

Korkie felt like he'd never eat again as he waddled out of Dex's Diner. He carried a box with four additional nerfburgers: three for his friends and one more for himself because he knew that eventually, he'd feel differently.

Ahsoka was telling him of the rathtars she had defended herself against on her last mission, and Korkie laughed as it became clear she was exaggerating. Rathtars couldn't possibly be that large. They couldn't. Korkie wondered if she'd gotten her storytelling abilities from Dexter Jettster. The stories he told about coming to the aid of Obi-Wan Kenobi and rescuing Korkie's aunt were fantastical, and Korkie had had to watch Aunt Satine's reactions to try to determine fact from fiction.

Still, he couldn't have dreamed of a better way to spend the afternoon. Except maybe visiting the Temple. Someday, he'd get there. Maybe when he was old enough to travel on his own. He wasn't sure why his aunt was so set against going. Even now, she was walking in front of Korkie and speaking affectionately with Ahsoka, and she was always speaking of the Jedi as the allies of the Mandalorians. So it had to be something else.

It couldn't possibly be related to Obi-Wan Kenobi, could it? Aunt Satine had certainly not seemed disturbed by listening to Dex's stories of him. In fact, her expression had been almost nostalgic as Dex had told a story about first coming upon the young Jedi, alone, defenseless, and fighting for his life as he tussled with a Mandalorian supercommando while trying to free the Duchess from her captors. Korkie never realized how much his aunt's younger years sounded like a holonovel until he heard someone else recount it. She and Obi-Wan Kenobi must have been very close.

On Ahsoka's advice, Korkie and the others decided that they'd circle back toward the Senate by way of the floating park near the beltway. The free-floating platform was essentially an enormous lift, covered with gardens of lush greenery and populated with small animals from a variety of worlds. It raised and lowered throughout the day, transporting the patrons up to the highest level of the city. At its peak, you could see the Senate building and the Jedi Temple, and Ahsoka said that if they hurried through Coco Town and cut through Little Daghee, they'd be able to catch the next ride.

Their walk took them through quiet streets tucked behind shops and eateries and then by one of the many bottomless crevices that allowed people to travel via speeders and bikes down, down, down to the lower levels of the planet. Korkie wondered how long it would take for an object to reach the bottom. He looked over the edge and shuddered. A wave of terror flowed through him. Korkie did not have even enough time to wonder where the feeling came from before there was a snap from behind him, and Korkie saw Porthos—limp and silent—falling over the railing and into the depths of the city.

Ahsoka and Aunt Satine moved at the same time, pressing their backs to one another to take stock of the situation. Korkie pressed himself between them, his heart pounding, and looked back the way they came.

It was the Dressellian from the diner. He was the one who moved silently enough to get the jump on Porthos. And he wasn't alone. There was a Rhodian emerging from behind a dumpster and an IG droid who came around the corner, blaster already drawn.

"Bounty hunters," Ahsoka muttered. She ignited her lightsaber, and then Korkie was surprised to hear the sound of a second one. She hadn't had two when she'd come to Mandalore, but she must have been training to use both. "I count four."

Four? Korkie turned his head to see that there was also a Falleen with green reptilian skin and a long, black braid advancing from the front. Aunt Satine had her deactivator drawn, but Korkie knew that would be nearly useless beyond slowing the attackers down.

"Ahsoka, get Korkie out of here."

Korkie's heart stopped. "I'm not leaving you."

There was no reason for Aunt Satine to argue. All four bounty hunters were encroaching on them. All four held blasters but no restraints. This was not a kidnapping. This was an assassination.

Korkie lowered himself into a crouch, his fists raised to his face, just as Porthos had taught him.

The IG droid moved first, firing a blaster directly at Korkie. Ahsoka raised one of her sabers and easily deflected the blast, but Korkie knew that hand-to-hand combat was definitely out. He needed something else to defend himself with. Looking around, he saw Porthos's force staff, made of beskar and capable of absorbing blaster bolts, still lying where it had fallen. Korkie stooped to pick it up while making sure to stay behind Ahsoka. He activated the weapon, and the two ends glowed pale blue.

He breathed deeply and then moved, stepping out from Ahsoka's cover to face the Rhodian while still covering his aunt. Sensing that she no longer had to defend either of them, Ahsoka went on the offense, zigzagging forward while deflecting the blaster fire back toward their assailants.

The Rhodian fired a volley of shots at Korkie, and he just managed to block them all before shooting an energy pulse back at him. The shot went embarrassingly wide and impacted the side of a building, but considering his lack of training with a staff, Korkie smirked. 

They could do this.

He could do this.

The Dressellian must have realized that blasters were ineffective, so he threw the weapon to the ground and ran pell-mell toward Korkie. Korkie couldn't even pivot before the Dressellian tackled him to the ground. Porthos's staff tumbled out of reach, and the thug was on top of him. Korkie kicked and tried to roll out from under him, but his attacker reached for a club tucked into his belt. The weapon was crude but solidly made, and Korkie could see it took effort for the Dressellian to raise it above his head.

This was it. Korkie screamed in fear and frustration as the Dressellian bore down on him. He screwed his eyes shut and waited for the impact that would crush his skull. Faster than lightspeed, his mind conjured images of Aunt Satine, his friends back home who wouldn't get their nerfburgers, Ahsoka, and then—unexpectedly—of Dex and Obi-Wan Kenobi, trapped under a supercommando, without his master or his weapon but desperate to save Korkie's aunt.

And in that moment, Korkie felt a surge of energy rush up from beneath him. It filled his lungs and flowed through his limbs, warming him like a hot drink after a frigid day on Kalevala. Unable to do anything else, Korkie surrendered to the feeling and knew this wasn't the end. He breathed, grasping desperately for more of the warmth, and then felt the energy flow from his fingertips into his assailant's chest.

Korkie opened his eyes in time to see the Dressellian flying through the air, arms and legs splayed and flailing. He hit the side of an advertisement post, slumped to the ground, and didn't move. Korkie stared in shock but forced himself to stand.

The feeling he'd experienced was gone; in its place was a slight weariness that he pushed away as he took up Porthos's staff once again. Ahsoka continued to hold off the Rodian and the Droid. She must have clipped the Rodian on the shoulder with a deflected blaster bolt because it now hung limply at his side. It wouldn't take much to dispatch him if they were engaged one-on-one.

And Aunt Satine . . . Korkie once again stared in shock. The Falleen's blaster lay on the ground; black streaks across its metalic body indicated it had been hit by the deactivator. The deactivator itself lay on the ground as well, either knocked from Aunt Satine or discarded by her. The Falleen gripped a wicked-looking vibroblade in one hand, and he slashed wildly at the Duchess. Aunt Satine crouched low, her long skirts splayed to accommodate her wide stance, and she danced out of the Falleen's reach. She ducked and spun, playing her attacker's enormous mass against him and managing to land powerful punches in the spaces where his armor didn't cover his green skin.

The enormous alien grunted and stumbled, and swung his vibroblade even more wildly. Korkie thought about firing the force staff at the Falleen, but he couldn't risk hitting his aunt due to his inexperience. Aunt Satine was holding her own, but she couldn't win without help. Neither could Ahsoka. And they were outnumbered by at least one weapon in this fight.

No. No, they weren't.

"Auntie!" Korkie yelled. "Catch!"

Korkie hurled Porthos's staff through the air with all his strength, and Satine caught it and swung into a readied stance. As the Falleen turned, she wielded the staff with expert precision, smashing one end against his shoulder and then dipping low to swing the staff under his legs. He stumbled, and his unwieldiness only made Aunt Satine's movements seem all the more graceful and controlled. Forceful. Deadly.

Korkie hardly knew if this was still his pacifist aunt, but he was confident she would now be able to gain the upper hand.

He turned back to Ahsoka just in time to see that the IG droid had realized Korkie was now weaponless. As the droid moved his blaster from the Jedi to the Mandalorian, Korkie cried out Ahsoka's name.

She turned and didn't seem surprised when he cupped his hands in front of his face, obviously asking for one of her sabers. Ahsoka deactivated one and then threw the hilt to Korkie. The weapon was elegant and fit perfectly in the palm of Korkie's hand. He activated it just in time to block the droid's blaster fire. Unlike the staff, which absorbed blaster energy, the saber deflected the bolt, which flew over Ahsoka's head and into the side of a building. Korkie knew the weapon he held had both defensive and offensive capabilities, and he needed to learn to use both.

The IG droid also sensed his inexperience and decided that even if Korkie could block his blasts, advance was the best option if Korkie couldn't return them effectively. The IG unit stomped forward, attempting to overwhelm him with shot after shot after shot. Korkie could focus on nothing else but blocking each and every one. They were so close to surviving this, but while his aunt or Ahsoka may be able to gain the upper hand, he knew once again that he was cornered. The mysterious power was gone this time. He called to it, but the droid was nearly on him.

And then the IG unit was enveloped in blue light and collapsed to the ground.

Korkie turned just in time to see Aunt Satine, her deactivator aimed where the droid once stood. And then the Falleen—wounded and furious—was behind her, and Korkie saw the moment his vibroblade pierced her shoulder.

"No!" Korkie screamed.

Aunt Satine gasped and fell to her knees and Korkie saw red. His mind and heart yelled at him to strike down the Falleen with the lightsaber, yet his body was frozen to the spot.

But before he could do anything, Korkie's aunt got her legs beneath her again. She spun and with her good arm, she shoved her palm up into her attacker's nose. He screamed, and as he raised his hands to his face, Aunt Satine swiped the vibroblade he no longer had a good grip on.

The Falleen wasn't even aware of the fact that he was now defenseless, and in that moment, the Duchess thrust the vibroblade once—then twice—into his gut before throwing the weapon to the side. It skittered across the pavement and under a dumpster.

The bounty hunter bellowed again and lashed out with an enormous clenched fist. It caught Aunt Satine on the side of her head and she fell to the ground, hard.

Korkie raised the lightsaber again, and then noticed that its twin was beside him. Ahsoka must have finally felled the Rodian on her own. She resumed a ready position, but the Falleen—his green face red from his broken nose—had had enough. He spit in Aunt Satine's direction and then growled through bloody teeth.

"One out of three ain't bad if I don't hafta share the profit."

He vaulted himself over the railing and dropped into the abyss. Ahsoka and Korkie raced to the edge and saw the bounty hunter riding away in a waiting speeder. He wouldn't be back, but Korkie didn't want to take that chance that he was wrong. They needed to get out of here now.

Ahsoka thought the same thing.

"Go get Dex," she ordered as she dropped to Aunt Satine's side.

Korkie ran.

Chapter Text

The storm clouds were rolling in fast. There wouldn’t be much time, but Satine knew she’d pay if she didn’t at least show up. Sure enough, as she rounded the top of the cliff on her speeder bike, she caught sight of a flash of red against the gray and turbulent Kalevalan sea. Her sister was waiting for her.

“You’re late,” Bo-Katan said as Satine parked the swoop under a carved out rockface, “but we probably still have time for one round.”

“It’s good to see you, too, Bo.”

Her sister preferred to ignore the fact that Satine was often gone for months at a time now. Greetings and pleasantries weren’t needed when a sparring match would say it all.

Bo threw Satine a staff. “I’ve been practicing,” she said.

Satine caught it, the beskar cold and already a little slick from the sea spray. “I haven’t.”

She balanced the rod, spinning it around herself and feeling the displacement of air on either side of her body. She planted herself in the silty surface of the wave-cut rock platform and brushed several stray strands of hair away from her face. She crouched and readied the staff in front of her, breathing deeply.

Her sister took a position opposite, stalking back and forth like a restless targon. She smirked and spread her hands wide on her staff. “Maybe it’ll be a fair fight then.”

Bo rushed in, and Satine blocked. Bo thrust one end of the staff toward her sister’s head, and Satine diverted it with her own. The wind carried the metallic songs of the staffs away. Satine wondered if the noise could be heard from the castle. She hoped not. She and Bo came here to ensure that they could practice without the exacting eyes of their father.

Satine countered every one of her sister’s attacks, deflecting and blocking and dancing away from the strokes entirely. It was clear that Bo had been practicing; her sinewy muscles and powerful blows spoke to that. But she was still Bo. And Bo’s weakness was that she couldn’t resist a hard offense. She was impatient and struck as if she had brought a bomb to a blaster fight, undirected energy flowing from every limb.

In response, all Satine had to do was wait. It wasn’t long before Bo’s breathing became heavy. All her focus was on the next swing, the next attack, but Satine saw the moment when the staff became a burden instead of a tool, and that’s when she struck.

Bo went in for a low strike, and Satine brought the staff down on her exposed back. Bo stumbled and righted herself, a flash of resolve in her green eyes. She growled and attacked again, but Satine ducked and swung her own staff in an arc, catching her sister in the ankles. Bo-Katan rolled so she wouldn’t hit the ground directly, but it was clear that the landing hurt.

Satine smirked. Maybe she wouldn’t mind if her father came to see what they were doing.

The fight went on. The sky darkened, and even though the tide was out, the rising waves lapped at the edge of the platform. The wind whipped hair from her braid and plastered it—slick with sweat and sea spray—against Satine’s forehead. She was tiring herself, her muscles screaming from the activity after months in the classrooms and libraries of the U of Coruscant. While she’d been studying statecraft and diplomacy—the arts of power—her sister had been studying power too. But Bo-Katan’s deepening glare and furrowed brow told Satine exactly who was winning this fight. Satine liked winning.

She struck again and again: high, low, direct, from the side. The staff connected with her sister’s thigh. Arm. Back. Gut. Every move precise; every movement efficient. Just as she had been taught from the time she was a child. Her father would be proud. Her clan would be proud. Her people would be proud. She was a Mandalorian. No one could doubt that.

Bo was tiring. Satine should demand that she yield. But Bo never yielded while she could still get to her feet. She was too proud for that.

Or maybe the pride was hers.

Satine pushed forward, slamming one end of the staff into Bo’s shoulder and then pivoting to sweep her feet out from under her. Her sister’s staff clattered to the ground, and Bo fell after it. Her sister’s head hit the ground with a sickening crack, and Satine gasped in horror.

“Bo?” She dropped to her sister’s side, trying to assess the damage. Her sister wasn’t moving. She wasn’t moving. “Bo-Katan!”

A quiet moan gave Satine’s heart permission to beat again.

“That was you not practicing?” Bo whispered gruffly. She slowly raised her head and turned over. Satine saw the blood on the rock first. Blood soaking into the silt.

Bo-Katan’s forehead bore the corresponding gash.

Satine covered her mouth with her hand, a wave of nausea washing over her. “Oh, Bo!”

Bo touched her fingers to the wound and grinned triumphantly. “That’s going to scar.”

Satine leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her sister, her hands shaking in relief. “I’m sorry, Bo. I never meant to hurt you so.”

“It’s not your fault, Tine. It’s who you are.”

Satine pulled back. “What?”

Bo gestured to the blood that flowed freely from the opening on her forehead. “This is who you are. A warrior. You can’t change that.”

Satine stood on unsteady legs and noticed Bo’s blood on her own tunic.

“That’s not who I am.”

“Don’t be so modest,” Bo-Katan scoffed, pushing herself to her feet and picking up her staff. There was only a slight edge when she said, “You’re the best fighter our clan has to offer.”

She pushed past Satine, knocking her shoulder and heading toward the speeder swoops.

“But it’s not who I want to be.”

There was a rush of air and then Satine was falling. She realized that Bo-Katan had rounded on her, swiping her feet out from under her. But she wasn’t falling toward the ground like her sister had. She was falling toward the raging sea.

Satine’s fall was halted by Bo gripping onto her hand. Though she still hung precariously over the ledge of the platform, Satine twisted to look at her sister. Bo’s narrowed eyes burned with rage and envy. The blood still flowed from the wound on her forehead, but it looked nearly black as the storm clouds blotting out the light.

The rain started in earnest, diluting the rivulets trickling down Bo’s face. Its color spread in ghastly dark streams and covered one side of her face.

Bo-Katan sneered.

“You think that just because you went away to some fancy school on Coruscant you’re different from us now? This is still who you are, Satine. Embrace it.”

And then Satine was falling. The raging waves covered her even before her body hit the water, and she was shrouded in blackness. Down, down, down she fell, gravity pulling at her even after the water enveloped her.

She couldn’t see Bo-Katan. Couldn’t see anything, but finally she stopped sinking, and the darkness was quiet.

Obi-Wan Kenobi wanted silence, a shower, and supper, now and in that order. He was being kept from all three of them by Quinlan Vos's infuriating desire to take the scenic route back to the Temple. No sooner had they'd flown over the Senate with home in sight then Quinlan had taken a sharp turn and circled the southern hemisphere of the planet for no reason other than he knew Obi-Wan wanted to get back.

Not that they had any reason to get back. They had nothing to show for this exhausting and smelly mission to Nal Hutta and Teth, where the humidity of the second planet was only outdone by the sulfurous and swampy scent of the first.

In truth, he didn't blame his maverick friend, who was often gone for months on solitary assignments, for diverting from the Temple. Not that Obi-Wan would ever let him know that. But Quinlan was just trying to keep him around as long as possible.

Eventually though, Vos put them down in the Temple hangar bay, and Obi-Wan was glad for it. He felt grimy and had no desire to see anyone tonight.

"Finally," he moaned. "I figured you'd fly until we ran out of fuel and floated aimlessly for the rest of eternity."

"Admit it," Quinlan responded, letting go of the throttle on the dash as the ship was pulled in by the hangar crew. "That wouldn't be the worst end you could think of."

Obi-Wan glared at him and Quinlan grinned, knowing he was jesting. Obi-Wan hated that he was right.

Obi-Wan descended the speeder as soon as the doors opened. He was not in the least surprised when the Kiffar slung his sweaty arm over Obi-Wan's shoulder and asked if he wanted to join him in the mess hall.

"Sorry, Vos, you're on your own," Obi-Wan said, shrugging out from under Quinlan's stink. "I need a shower, and if ever you would take my advice, you need one too."

"The ladies like me like this." Quinlan waved a hand as if to encompass his natural musk.

"Which ladies?"

"Exactly."

"Obi-Wan! You're back!" Anakin was jogging toward them. Obi-Wan was always pleased to see his former apprentice, but he wondered if the Force would ever oblige him the silence he wanted.

"We are," Obi-Wan replied tersely, "without achieving our objective."

"Kenobi's in a mood," Vos said. "We didn't find Cad Bane, and we didn't want to drag a dead Hutt back on our own."

"Ziro's dead?" Anakin asked.

"As a doornail."

"My heart bleeds," he said sarcastically. Obi-Wan doubted Anakin would ever have reason to shed a tear over a Hutt.

"Yes, well, tomorrow's a new day, but as Vos so astutely pointed out, I'm just about done with this one." Obi-Wan brushed past Anakin and headed for his quarters. "Enjoy your evening, gentlemen."

"Aren't you going to the infirmary?" Anakin called after him.

Obi-Wan glanced down at his muddy armor and torn robe. "It's not as bad as it looks, Anakin. I'm just gross, not injured."

Anakin's brow wrinkled. "No, I mean, they brought the Duchess in a few hours ago."

"What?"

"Who's the Duchess?"

"They didn't tell you?" Anakin asked Obi-Wan. "There an assassination attempt. Ahsoka and her nephew were with her."

Obi-Wan began striding toward the infirmary. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Who's the Duchess?"

"I just did!"

Light. There was a light. It was hazy, and only just peaking through the inky darkness, but Satine focused on it. She pulled herself up from the ocean of her mind, reaching higher and higher and wondering if she'd drown in the process. 

She heard muffled voices and wondered why everyone was in the ocean with her. She heard a heartbeat. Her heartbeat. But the rhythm was played in beeps—the sounds of vitals machines.

Satine reached higher, extending her arms to reach the surface.

She screamed.

The pain lanced through her arm and into her chest and into heart and she was sure that would kill her if the water didn't.

The hand on the side that wasn't screaming in agony latched hold of something. Or something latched hold of her. She clung to it for dear life. Fighting. Fighting to draw closer to the light. Did it seem brighter now? Was it chasing away the darkness? How much further?

"Come on, Auntie. Come back."

That voice.

Oh, that voice.

Satine fought harder to reach the surface. She thought she could see it. She kicked and pulled and rose through the inky blackness. She reached for the light, and found it already in the palm of her hand.

She gasped, and the darkness was gone.

The Duchess's eyelids fluttered.

"She's waking up!" Korkie said from his chair at the Duchess's bedside. He gripped her hand even more tightly. From her perch on the chair at the foot of the bed, Ahsoka smiled at his excitement.

Master Rig Nema, the Halasai doctor with golden eyes and a large headdress, dimmed the lights of the private room in the medical bay, but even still, Duchess Satine screwed her eyes shut after opening them just the slightest amount.

"That's it, Auntie," Korkie encouraged. "Wake up."

Satine blinked several times until she was able to keep her eyes open. Korkie adjusted her pillow and smoothed the collar of the white hospital gown while his aunt became more aware of her surroundings. Once Master Nema was sure the Duchess was conscious, she placed a lithe hand on the Mandalorian's arm. In her gently accented voice, she said, "Welcome back, Duchess. You're in the Halls of Healing at the Jedi Temple."

Satine looked confused.

"You sustained a vibroblade injury to your right shoulder," Master Nema continued. "You lost a lot of blood, but we were able to stabilize you quickly enough that there won't be any lasting damage."

“What happened?” Satine whispered.

“I’ll leave your nephew and Padawan Tano to explain that, and I'll be back in a bit." The doctor left, and Satine looked expectantly at Korkie.

"What happened?" Her voice was low and husky, like she was about to cough. Ahsoka grabbed a glass of water from a cart and walked it over to Korkie, who put the straw to his aunt's lips. The Duchess took a small sip and then cleared her throat. Ahsoka took back the glass when Satine signaled she didn't need anymore.

“What do you remember, Auntie?”

After a long pause—and sounding more like herself—Satine said, “We were with Dex. We left to return to the Senate.”

“And then?”

“We were attacked.” She sucked in a breath and then grimaced at the pain in her shoulder. She brought her good hand to her face and pinched the bridge of her nose. In a flat tone, she said “Porthos is gone.”

Korkie nodded and then, because his aunt's eyes were closed, whispered, "Yes."

 "There were four of them." The Duchess was recounting the memory as if it was only just coming back to her. "They tried to ambush us, and I—oh, stars."

"Satine!" Master Obi-Wan's voice filtered through the hallway seconds before he burst into the room, and Ahsoka wasn’t surprised when she saw Anakin and Master Vos racing behind him, pulling up just outside the doorway. 

"Obi-Wan?” Satine sounded scandalized and pulled the bed sheet over her more fully, clearly aware of her casual state.

Korkie rose to his feet, nearly knocking over his chair in the process.

“That’s the Duchess?” Master Vos sounded like a kid on Life Day morning. Anakin punched him in the side to get him to shut up.

At the same time, Master Kenobi and the Duchess both said, “Why are you here?” and stared as if the other were the one who had no right to be in the room.

“I heard you’d been injured,” Obi-Wan said tightly. He came to her bedside, looking like he wanted to touch her but deciding against it.

“I’m fine,” Satine replied. Her voice was hard as steel.

“You were stabbed through the shoulder,” Ahsoka said matter-of-factly. Satine rolled her eyes, but her reaction was undermined by the thick bandages clearly visible beneath her hospital gown.

“What happened, Padawan Tano?” Master Obi-Wan finally seemed to notice Ahsoka was there; she and Korkie had been there since Master Nema had finished the Duchess's bacta treatments and closed the wound. Obi-Wan probably addressed Ahsoka now because he knew he’d get more useful information out of her than the stubborn woman on the bed.

“We were at Dex’s Diner, but we were attacked after we left.”

“You were at Dex's?” He turned to Satine. "You saw Dex?" 

For a moment, Master Obi-Wan looked nostalgic, and the Duchess wasn’t entirely unaffected. “He says hello.”

Ahsoka pulled them back to the present. “After the attack, Korkie ran back to get him, and Dex brought us here in his speeder.”

“Korkie?”

Satine gestured. “My nephew.”

For the first time, Obi-Wan noticed the boy—his back ramrod straight—on the other side of Satine’s bed.

"Hello, there."

“You’re Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Korkie extended his hand, looking completely in awe. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Likewise.” Obi-Wan leaned over the Duchess to take the boy’s hand and gave it a terse shake. Satine looked like she wanted to be anywhere else. And given the awful smell that clung to Master Obi-Wan and now filled the room, who could blame her?

 Obi-Wan turned back to Ahsoka. “How many assassins were there?” His expression was neutral, as if he were asking for details of any old mission, but his voice had an edge that said he was committed to finding out what happened.

“Master Kenobi, if you don’t mind," the Duchess started to protest. "We're not in need of your help."

 “Four," Ahsoka said, not sure why the Mandalorian woman seemed so annoyed. "A Rhodian, an IG droid, a Dresselian, and a Falleen."

“And you took them out yourself?” Anakin said, leaning on the doorway. “Way to go, Snips!”

“Thank you, Master, but it was a group effort.”

“Was it?” Obi-Wan's eyebrows raised in surprise.

Satine scowled at him. “I told you that being a pacifist doesn’t mean I won’t defend myself.” 

"And she did!" Korkie told Master Kenobi. "She took out the Falleen with the same knife he stabbed her with."

"Kor Kryze, that's quite enough," the Duchess hissed. She spoke so intensely it set off a coughing fit. Ahsoka picked up the water glass again, but when she turned to hand it to Korkie, Master Obi-Wan swiped it out of her hand. Korkie's eyes widened, but Master Obi-Wan was already bent over the Duchess.

She took several small sips from the straw. Her cough stopped, but the movement had jostled her shoulder, and she grimaced.

"Obi-Wan," she said. His face was close to hers.

"What is it?"

"You smell like a bantha."

Ahsoka would have thought the snickers coming from the doorway came from younglings if she weren't staring at Anakin and Master Vos.

Master Kenobi pulled away, rolling his eyes. "A thousand pardons, your Grace," he said sarcastically. "I was only trying to help!"

"I did not ask you to help," Satine replied hotly, "and I do not wish to discuss this any further!"

There was a sharp rap, rap, rap that broke through the raised voices. When Anakin and Master Vos moved aside, Master Yoda was behind them, his gimer stick poised to strike the floor again.

Ahsoka hopped off the chair out of respect as the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order hobbled into the room. Master Kenobi looked sheepish, and Korkie's eyes were as wide as holo-disks. Satine tried to sit up straighter, but Yoda motioned for her to remain still. He addressed the Duchess from the floor, tiny and wizened and yet somehow always larger than life.

"Duchess Kryze. Grateful we are, that your injury is not life-threatening."

"Master Yoda, it has been far too long."

"Nearly twenty years, it has been. Much to talk about, we have." His gaze swept over the too full recovery room.  "But peace, we will need."

Master Kenobi didn't need to be told twice. He gave a stilted bow to Satine and Korkie and then stalked out, Anakin and Master Vos trailing after him.

"Padawan Tano."

"Yes, Master Yoda?" Ahsoka replied. The grandmaster was looking at Korkie.

"An unfortunate introduction, our young prince has received. Around the Temple, you will take him," Yoda said with a sparkle in his eye. "Many things, he wishes to see!"

Korkie looked to Satine for permission. She looked wary but gave him a smile. "Looks like you got your way after all."

They were out the door before Korkie could finish saying, "Thank you, Auntie!"