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Obi-Wan grit his teeth as he pulled out his lightsaber.
It really wasn’t a good idea to out himself as a Jedi, but he had no choice. The blaster he’d been using had blown up when it became clogged with sand and dirt and overheated. The Force pinged in warning just in time for him to toss it away from himself and Satine, and the small explosion did incapacitate one of the members of Death Watch that were after them, but it left him without a weapon that was less identifying.
But either he outed himself as a Jedi, or both he and Satine were captured and he’d be outed when they found his lightsaber anyway. It might as well be on his terms.
He thumbed the switch to activate the familiar blue blade and…
Nothing happened.
He thumbed it again, still finding no blade at all springing to life with a gentle hum.
He prodded at it with the Force, trying to see if a wire was loose or something, and found that the most important part of any lightsaber was simply missing.
His kyber. The physical extension of his soul had vanished from its protective casing.
Just his rotten luck.
Every Jedi knew that it was a possibility. It didn’t happen to every Jedi, and any Jedi that experienced it would find that it only would happen once due to the nature of the event, but for it to happen in such a dire situation where he needed his lightsaber whole?
He grabbed Satine’s wrist and pulled her with him as he tried to make a break for it.
It didn’t work, they were caught and roughly bound before being tossed into a speeder to be taken to whatever nearby Death Watch camp this group had come from.
“Why didn’t you use it?” Satine hissed at him, and he knew she meant the useless hilt that had been dropped and lost in the shuffle.
“I tried, it was soulless.” he whispered back simply.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Obi-Wan shrugged, “It won’t turn on.” He answered simply, not wanting to get into the Jedi Soulmate situation with her. Especially when members of Death Watch might overhear.
He just hoped whomever it was that found his kyber would keep it close and protected, even if they would never find each other in life. After all, there was a good chance that Death Watch would kill him.
Something strange was happening.
Jango grunted as he shoved his helmet back on over his head. He was hearing things. A strange sort of chiming song that no one else could hear. He’d thought his helmet needed tuning or something, but taking it off hadn’t stopped the chimes, and nothing seemed wrong with the helmet itself.
And it was just so distracting. Tugging at him to follow rather than pay attention to what he should be doing.
His squad was hunting down Death Watch cells, he didn’t have time to go running off looking for a mystery—imaginary—whatever the kark it was that he was hearing.
And yet he found himself straying, further and further from his squad until the song got louder and he looked down.
A crystal of some sort sat tucked away within the crevices of rocks. A beautiful blue color that glowed ever so slightly.
He reached down and carefully picked it up.
And as he touched it, the soul mark on his forearm tingled and grew warm.
His soulmate.
Somehow this singing crystal was linked to his soulmate. He smiled at it, “Well, I haven't heard of this particular soul custom, but we’re certainly very close to meeting, cyare.”
The crystal’s light pulsed and he carefully tucked it away safely inside one of the pouches on his belt.
He was looking forward to finding his soulmate at last, but first he did have to finish rooting out the Death Watch cell in the area. Duty didn’t take a back seat to…singing soul crystals, no matter what he wished. He had to protect his people.
He returned to his squad, ignoring their questions as he focused on the hunt. The crystal’s song was no longer distracting, but also urging him along, either helping him on his mission, or guiding him to his soulmate.
And if the latter was true, he could expect to find his soulmate in the process of hunting Death Watch.
It made him a little worried that the terrorist group had their hands on his soulmate.
He needed to move quickly. Death Watch were known to kill any they were unable to brainwash, and Jango didn’t know which would be the worse fate, and he’d do everything he could to save them from either.
They didn’t know who they had captured.
Obi-Wan couldn’t believe the luck of it all. They were within the hands of Death Watch, yet none of the members knew Satine’s face, and had simply shoved them both into a cell with various others who had been taken.
That meant that Satine was in no more danger as anyone else who shared their situation. Not that it was a vacation of sorts. They were all being starved and ignored so as to soften them up to what came next in their indoctrination process.
Everyone huddled together, letting the youngest of the group cling to whomever they wished to seek comfort from. He personally had one young five year old girl who had immediately latched onto him. She said he reminded her of her vod. She had the Force, so he figured he simply felt similar in the Force since she had also babbled that her vod was a twi’lek like she was.
Satine had two twin zabraks clinging to her. They were seven and very jumpy if she moved away from them. Neither of them spoke much, so he didn’t know their story like he knew others.
The children outnumbered the teenagers and young adults, so each of them had at least one child clinging to them, quietly babbling or asking for stories or a lullaby—sources of comfort.
And that’s how they all were when the cell door opened with the loud sound of metal sliding against metal. Obi-Wan tightened his hold on the little girl in his arms as an armored Mandalorian stepped in.
It took him entirely too long to realize that the paint job didn’t match up with Death Watch at all.
They removed their helmet and gave a friendly smile to the group, “Ready to get out of here and back to your aliit, ade?” the human—or near—asked.
“Not all of us are ade.” one teenager huffed.
“You are welcome to stay here if you wish.” they shrugged, “You’ll be alone, though. We've cleared the place out."
The teenager was the first to move, clearly eager to leave.
Obi-Wan followed at the end of the group, relieved that he didn’t need to enact his half-formed escape plan. Satine stuck close to him, and they each had their child-sized lizard monkies clinging to them as they filed out.
As he passed by their rescuer, however, he heard a familiar chime, and he stopped and turned wide-eyed at them.
They had his kyber.
As honey-brown eyes met his, he felt a bond snap into place, linking them. The Mandalorian must have felt something as well as their eyes flickered briefly to their arm before snapping back up to his face.
“Mesh’la…” they said before their fingers pulled something from a pouch on their belt, “I believe this may be yours?”
Obi-Wan smiled and stepped in closer, “Indeed. Thank you for returning my soul to me.”
“I’ve never heard of this particular soul tradition before.” they admitted.
“It’s not one my people advertise. I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Padawan.”
Surprise flickered across their bond as they took his hand and pressed the kyber into his palm, “Jango Fett, Mand’alor.”
Oh, well that made things a bit complicated. Jedi normally brought their soulmates back with them to the temple. It was kind of hard to do that with the leader of a people. He’d need to speak with the Council and his soulmate about it later, but for now…
Well, what he had been about to respond with was lost as Jango pulled him into a kiss.
-End-