Archive of Our Own

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It is well known across the galaxy that Mandalorians and Jedi are bitter, lifelong enemies.

It is well known across the galaxy that Mandalorians - Mando'ade, as they call themselves - wear full body armour that they will not let any other wear, and rarely even touch.

It is well known across the galaxy that Jedi - not spacer tales, but real beings - have mystic powers that make them forsake connection with other non-Jedi sentients, and that they are incomprehensible to non-Force-Sensitive beings.

These three things are well known.

These three things are only one version of the truth.

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Korda VI

Jaster Mereel roared in wordless fury as his traitorous second, Montross, flew off, while Tor Vizsla's monstrosity of a tank powered up its weapons behind him.

His heart raced.

The whine of the laser cannons filled his ears, charging up for the shot that would undoubtedly end his life.

"BUIR!" he heard Jango holler, and closed his eyes behind his buy'ce in resignation.

He didn't want to leave his ad. Not yet, and not like this. And he didn't want his child to witness his death, especially not such an ignoble one.

He did not want to march on yet!

A surge of sudden strength filled him, even as he heard - as if slowed down - the laser cannons behind him fire and his son scream for him. He threw himself forwards, pushing through the pain in his leg from where the first shot had taken him out at the knee, and swung himself around one of the boulders strewn across the terrain to take shelter from the barrage.

The sound was deafening, even having missed him, and as Jaster heard his own heart pounding in his chest, he registered the taste of the ozone that lingered after the use of weapons such as the ones that had just been fired.

And all at once, he realised what had happened, and hastily sealed his buy'ce. It took only a few quick blink-commands to set the Dral'cabur function - standard in all Ori'Ramikade beskar'gam - to 'active', and another couple of blinks to open the line directly to his ad.

"Buir!" Jango's voice came through, too loud and yet hushed all at once.

"Ad," Jaster managed. "Where are you? Were you hit? Where's Vizsla?"

"He's gone, the hut'uun. And naas, buir. Me'vaar ti gar?"

"Leg is a mess, but cauterised," Jaster reported automatically. His ad had picked up his al'verde tone, it seemed. And far too well for Jaster's future wellbeing. "I've gone active."

Jaster ignored his ad's swearing. Jango was fourteen now, past his verd'goten and a full ori'ramikad in his own right, so he was allowed to speak how he chose. And, honestly, this situation called for swearing.

(Jaster was, perhaps, a little high on adrenaline and having gone active as a Dral'cabur.)

"I'm going to take off Vizsla's head with his own—"

"Jango!" Jaster barked. Jango paused. "Ad, as much as I want to end Vizsla, we need to get back before Montross does too much damage."

"Demagolka shabuir," Jango grumbled. "Vizsla took off after his stupid tank fired, it looked like it overheated."

"We'll get him, ad, I swear it. Haat, ijaat, haa'it."

Now that Jaster was an active Dral'cabur, there would be nowhere in the galaxy that Tor Vizsla could hide from him. Not forever, and not for long.

Serenno

It had been a long, long mission, for all that it hadn't taken much time chronologically. Yan still was not entirely certain why he had been tasked with it - the Order usually tried not to involve beings in conflicts or negotiations for their home planets - but it had been done, and he had completed his mission.

Even with his former padawan chafing to be permitted more freedoms whilst on Serenno.

(The last time Yan had given Qui-Gon more freedoms on a mission, the then-teenaged menace had returned with frogs in his pockets and a baby bantha following at his heels as if it thought the padawan was its mother. And the less said about the Force-bedamned tookas, the better. Age had not tempered Qui-Gon's proclivity for adopting pathetic lifeforms.)

The only thing that he could really feel thankful for was the fact that he'd had both Sifo-Dyas and Jocasta along too. He cared deeply for his former padawan, truly he did, but Qui-Gon tended to go out of his way to aggravate Yan nowadays. Having two of his closest friends as a buffer was dearly needed.

Especially as, during his time on Serenno, Yan had taken the step from Jedi to Guide.

All Guides were Jedi, but not all Jedi were Guides. Even after thousands upon thousands of years, it was still unknown what made Guides distinct from other Force Sensitive beings. But every single Jedi knew that there was a difference, could feel it in their connections to the Force, but until one of them took that step, none of them were able to identify who among them might be a Guide.

Yan had, honestly, fully expected that if he were to present as a Guide, it would occur much earlier in his life. He was nearing fifty now, no longer young for a human (though certainly not decrepit or even elderly), and had truly thought that if he were to be a Guide, it would have manifested whilst he was much younger.

It seemed that was not the case.

(He was also incredibly grateful that his current padawan had remained on Coruscant, in the temple, for the time being. He adored Komari just as much as he did his other padawans - they were his children, the only children he would ever have - but she was a little much sometimes, and his new status was difficult enough to acclimatise to without worrying about his eager and energetic padawan.)

"Yan? Our transport is here," Sifo-Dyas called quietly from the doorway, and Yan took a deep breath, carefully reinforcing his shields so that his newly developed Guide gifts would not overwhelm him.

The trip back to Coruscant would not be a fun one. But at least he would be away from the disgusting black hole of corruption that was Hego Damask II.

(Yan was certain that it was the Muun's presence alone on Serenno that had pushed him from Jedi to Guide. Something that would require further investigation once he had a handle on his new gifts.)

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The source of the conflict between Jedi and Mando'ade has been lost to history, records from that time having been corrupted, destroyed, or otherwise lost. Some believe it to be the fault of the Sith, others the fault of the Republic, some the fault of the Mando'ade and Jedi themselves.

The truth is a little more bittersweet.

Prior to the New Sith Wars, there was a beautiful symbiosis between the two peoples, one that formed long before the Taung left Coruscant. The Je'daii had followed the Taung, though they retained their links to the Jedi that remained on Coruscant.

For Taung were often Dral'cabur'e, Jedi were often Je'daii (or jetii, as the Taung so called them), and for every Dral'cabur there was a Je'daii.

Until, at some point in the New Sith Wars, something changed between the Mando'ade and their Jedi. Something, perhaps a Sith plot, perhaps some other kind of manipulation by those who hated how the two peoples worked together so seamlessly, twisted relations between Mando'ade and Jedi, until the Mandalorians fought against the Jedi instead of beside them.

And that became the new standard, until one fateful event was shifted ever so slightly, and a certain Mand'alor survived long enough to meet a certain Jedi Master.

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Galidraan

"Something about the Governor seems off, Buir," Arla muttered, and Jaster sighed as he set down the pad he'd been using to look back through the contract he'd put together with the Governor of Galidraan.

"I know, Arl'ika," he murmured back, reaching out and brushing a hand against her shoulder gently. She leaned into the touch slightly, and Jaster ignored the familiar pulse of pack-family-hunt that accompanied his daughter's presence. It had been two years since he and Jango had found her in a Kyr'tsad training camp, half-feral and protecting kidnapped ade from the demagolka attempting to force them into joining Kyr'tsad's ranks, and still he marvelled at how swiftly she had recovered and regained her control. She had gone years without beskar'gam, years active without the programs and functions built in to all beskar'gam used by the Haat'ade or unaffiliated Traditionalists, and yet she had not gone entirely feral or fallen into naas'tratyc.

"He speaks lies like breathing," Arla complained, voice still quiet but clearly audible to Jaster with both of them having taken off their buy'cese previously.

"I know," Jaster repeated. He rubbed a palm over her short-cropped blonde hair, soothing and claiming-as-kin all in one motion. "I do not trust him. He lies, but I dare not risk taking off my buy'ce in his presence to pinpoint what he lies about."

"The sooner we're off this karking planet the better," Jango declared as he entered the tent, buy'ce under one arm, and Jaster sighed. Ade were blessings from the Manda, he reminded himself silently. "That shabuir keeps kriffing lying to us, buir, please tell me I can shoot him."

"No shooting planetary leaders if they haven't struck at you first," Jaster said tiredly. How was this something he had said multiple times to his ade?

"Fine," Jango grumbled, his lower lip sticking out slightly in a pout that Jaster knew he would deny the existence of if it were pointed out. Sometimes Jango truly did look like the child he'd been when Jaster first met him, and not like his actual eighteen.

Jaster smiled slightly, unable to help himself, as Arla immediately started teasing her vod'ika about his sulky response. Jango gave back as good as he got, and Jaster shook his head a little as he turned his attention back to his pad.

There was certainly something suspicious about the Governor of Galidraan's behaviour, for all that the contract was clear-cut, and Jaster was determined to find out what was amiss before it came back to bite him and his people.

Jedi Master and active Guide Yan Dooku was frowning as he listened to the so-called 'emergency' call from the Governor of Galidraan. The initial request had come via the Senate, and when the force of Jedi that had been chosen to answer the call had come into communications range with the planet, they had almost immediately been hailed by the local leader.

But something wasn't ringing as truth about the 'distress' the Governor was portraying.

The Force was whispering 'liar, false, listen, listen, feel', and even though Yan was too far from the Governor to utilise his Guide gifts alongside the Force to discern his truthfulness, Yan was far more willing to listen to the Force and recall what he had learned since he had become a Guide.

And what Jocasta had found of the current state of Mandalorian factions, specifically the group that had apparently been committing grave crimes on this planet.

"Master?" Komari prompted carefully, and Yan shook himself from his contemplations.

"We approach the Mandalorian Supercommandos in peace first," he declared, and every single Jedi present felt the Force's approval ring out. Yan blinked slowly, the only sign of his surprise that he would ever give. "Well, that was quite clear, I believe," he commented. A couple of the Knights sent along on this mission snickered quietly.

"Setting course for the Mando camp," the pilot, Knight Tinbri Frehan, confirmed, and Yan relaxed as the Force continued to sing with the rightness of their chosen course.

"Be sure to land far enough away that they do not think we are attacking them, Knight Frehan," Master Jae Tevv spoke up, and Yan was possibly the only one present to see how Knight Frehan rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Master Tevv," she said aloud, and then Yan felt her focus turn towards their flight path instead of bantering with the Sullustan.

He himself stood, calm and unmoving, with his padawan at his side as he cast out his senses - Jedi and Guide both - towards the planet.

The Force was filled with anticipation.

"Alor!" Silas yelled, and Jaster's hearing immediately locked in on the verd currently standing watch on the east side of the Haat'ade's camp. "Jetiise incoming!"

Jango and Arla, both active dral'cabur'e and therefore able to hear Silas' shout for themselves, scrambled for their buy'cese even as Jaster launched himself to his feet and shoved his own buy'ce on his head.

"Report, Silas!" Jaster barked through the open comms, already heading towards the verd and able to both feel and hear how Jango and Arla were right on his heels.

"Jetii ship just flew past, a couple klicks east. They landed just now," Silas reported, sounding frazzled and wary. Jaster didn't slow his pace, but he did relax just a little. That was slightly less urgent than he'd feared when Silas had first yelled. "Sensors are telling me there's a couple dozen lifeforms aboard."

Haar'chak.

"Almost with you, Silas."

"Elek, alor."

Jaster cleared the last few tents and came to a stop beside the young verd who was currently being fought over by both his ade - Silas was competent, if young, and both Jango and Arla were keen to have him as their second.

"Eighteen lifeforms approaching from where the jetii ship landed," Silas reported without Jaster needing to say a word. "They're moving fast, but don't have speeders or speeder bikes."

"Force osik," Jango grumbled.

"Your externals are on, vod'ika," Arla informed him, and Jango snarled at her wordlessly. Jaster sighed, making sure his own external comms were muted for the moment.

Why did he adopt them?

"Whatever the reason, they're not far off," Silas said, ignoring Jango and Arla for the moment to instead speak directly to Jaster. Jaster appreciated his professionalism.

"Vor'e, verd'ika," he said quietly, just through externals, and smiled as Silas fidgeted ever so slightly. Jaster was certain the youngster was blushing beneath his buy'ce. Jaster switched back to open comms to address all of his people at the same time. "Be ready, but not aggressive. We have done nothing against Republic laws and our contract is sound. If there is to be a fight with the jetiise, then we are not to be the aggressors," he ordered.

"Elek, alor!" came the chorus through the line, his buy'ce automatically moderating the volume so he wouldn't be deafened by the multitude of voices.

Jaster smiled, pleased, and turned his focus to the tree line as he waited for the jetiise to make their appearance.

When they stepped forward, out of the trees with their lightsabers still at their belts and doing their best to project 'calm, peace' to the Mandalorians, Yan's focus was instantly drawn to the trio of fully armoured Mandalorians waiting for them. There was a fourth a little further back, closer to the camp proper, who seemed to be deferring to the others, and Yan made note of that as he turned his full attention to the other three. They were, of course, armed - it would be unusual for them to not be carrying a multitude of weapons on their persons at all times - but all blasters were holstered and they seemed to be waiting without outright aggression.

Safe, the Force insisted. Yan, as always, trusted.

"Greetings," he called, stepping forwards slightly from the rest of his fellows. Komari trailed him, a couple of steps behind as was custom. (A jaieh could not protect their padawan effectively if said padawan rushed ahead, after all.) "I am Jedi Master Yan Dooku. May we discuss the accusations laid upon you by the Governer of this planet?"

"Well," said the Mando in front - black armour, red and yellow accents, red cape, with a skull of some kind of beast on one of his pauldrons - said in accented but crisp Basic. "It appears we were correct to distrust the Governor if he has set jetiise upon us."

"Apparently so," Yan agreed mildly. "May I and a few of my fellows enter your camp for this discussion? The remainder will return to our ship if you do not wish for their presence at your perimeter," he added.

"Hm." There was a moment of silence, and if Yan had not placed so much of his trust in the Force, he might be more concerned by being unable to sense the armoured beings clearly. "Welcome, Jetii. You and yours will come to no harm in our camp that you do not bring yourself. Likewise, none at our perimeter will be attacked unless they first cause harm." Very diplomatic, Yan thought, which was somewhat surprising for the leader of a group of mercenaries. Though he had heard that one of the faction leaders was an historian...

"Thank you for your courtesy," Yan replied with a deep nod, instead of bowing. That much, he remembered from Jocasta's lectures. He turned slightly, speaking aloud instead of through the web of temporary bonds that linked all the Jedi that had been sent with him. "Master Tevv, I leave command to you until I return."

"May the Force be with you, Master Dooku," the Sullustan Jedi said gravely, though Yan could sense his faint amusement.

'You are not leaving me behind, Master!' Komari insisted through their master-student bond, and Yan's lips twitched as he held back a chuckle.

'Indeed I am not, dear padawan,' he assured her. 'I do believe that you would follow if I did try.'

His padawan's response - likely a mischievous echo of Master Yoda's 'do or do not' mantra - was thankfully averted by Knight Feemor stepping forward, a faint smile on his face as he came to flank Yan on his other side.

"I will accompany you, if you have no objections, Grandmaster," the quiet young man murmured in Dai Bendu, and Yan brushed gentle affection against him through their lineage bond.

"None whatsover, my dear grandpadawan," he replied in kind. He turned back to the Mandalorians and moved forwards again, Feemor and Komari flanking him. Behind him, he could sense the rest of their contingent settling down to wait, grouping up as tended to happen when friends were assigned the same mission. Master Tevv and Master Tan Vrei remained alert, though Yan was certain they both looked serene and relaxed to anyone who might be watching.

"This way," the lead Mando said, turning to lead them into the camp, and Yan carefully reinforced his Guide-shields alongside his Force shielding. Still the Force sang of hope and rightness and approval.

Jaster was doing his best to ignore the teasing from his ade as he led the handsome jet'bajur and the two younger jetiise - one of which, he thought, might still be a jetii'ad - into the Ori'ramikad'e camp. His ade knew all too well about his appreciation of Jetii history and knowledge, and Jango, at least, knew a bit too much about the kind of sentient that could turn Jaster's head. Jet'bajur Dooku did, fortunately or unfortunately, hit many of the little buttons in Jaster's mind that made him sit up and take notice. Calm competence was attractive, and the way Jet'bajur Dooku comported himself made it all too clear that he was competent, if not skilled, in many fields.

That didn't mean Jaster appreciated Jango and Arla teasing him about it, though.

"Gev!' he barked at the pair as they reached Jaster's command tent. Arla and Jango, thankfully, subsided instantly. "Focus, ade," he implored them quietly, and received an echo of "'lek, buir" from the pair.

Inside the tent, he strode to his seat and settled into it, gesturing to some of the scattered chairs about the space when the jetiise paused near the entry.

"Sit," he said, not quite an order but not entirely a suggestion either. His ade seated themselves either side of him, serious and composed as they rarely were - Jaster was so proud - and the jetiise also took seats. The younger human or near-human man seemed calm, centred, whereas the young woman (also human or near-human, as far as he could tell) had a certain energy about her that reminded Jaster all too much of Arla and Jango. Jet'bajur Dooku remained composed, though he had positioned himself slightly in front of his two companions.

"I would appreciate knowing who I speak to, as we were given very little information of any worth," Dooku said before anything else could be stated, and Jaster inclined his head.

"Understandable. With me are my children, Jango and Arla Fett, Clan Fett, House Mereel. I am Jaster Mereel, alor - head - of Clan and House Mereel."

"Well met, Ser Mereel," Dooku replied. "My companions are Knight Feemor, and my padawan, Komari Vosa."

"Well met." Jaster echoed the Basic phrase, and then he reached up and removed his buy'ce, already with a small, polite smile on his face, to set it down beside him. He would rather risk something from the jetii and be able to have a clear read on them, provided their Force osik didn't make it impossible for him to read their scents, than keep himself protected and be deceived.

But then the scent, the sound, of Yan Dooku reached him unhindered, and he sucked in a sharp breath as everything in him that made him Dral'cabur reached out for the jetii.

Mine, something in him declared as he met the jetii's surprised eyes directly, buy'ce no longer a barrier between them.

And something slid into place in Jaster's very soul, like puzzle pieces fitting together, as something reached back to his Dral'cabur'runi.

"Oh," Jaster's Jetii uttered, delight and bewilderment and relief all at once. "There you are."

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At some unknown point during the New Sith Wars, a period that lasted a thousand years and ended with the Ruusan Reformations, Mando'ade ceased their long-standing friendship with the Jedi. It is uncertain which party took the first steps, for the Sacking of the Coruscant Jedi Temple did damage many records relating to Mandalorians and the relationship the two peoples had once enjoyed.

(The Sith had seen the danger in the Mandalorian Dral'cabur'e bonding to their Je'daii fated-partners, and enacted a generations-long plan to break those bonds irrevocably. It is still unknown exactly what occurred in that time, but what is known, is this: the Je'daii were of the belief their Dral'cabur'e had turned to Darkness, and lost their Dral'cabur'runise as a result, while the Dral'cabur'e were tricked into believing that the Jedi had purged Je'daii from their ranks and thus destroyed the possibility of future Dral'cabur'e finding their Je'daii.

By the time the Army of Light was disbanded with the event of Ruusan Reformations, Jedi and Mando'ade alike had forgotten what they once shared.)

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Coruscant

Obi-Wan Kenobi had been nervous about this particular mission since the moment he and his Master had been assigned it.

He knew, logically, that his Grandmaster was partnered to the current Mand'alor (as recognised by over 60% of the Mandalorian population, according to Master Archivist Nu's latest reports). He knew, logically, that there was no inherent danger in Jedi entering Mandalorian space anymore, unless they happened to run afoul of Death Watch (whose numbers were waning rapidly) due to the research that had been undertaken in recent years - first by Mandalorians, then by Jedi when Master Dooku met and bonded with Mand'alor Mereel.

He knew, logically, that he had nothing to fear.

That didn't help him much when he'd come online as a Guide not even two day-cycles before the mission had been assigned. That didn't help much when he was still attempting to wrap his head around the discovery that Mandalorians - Mando'ade - had among their population the fabled Protectors, with whom Jedi Guides could (and did) form powerful bonds that anchored their Guide gifts like nothing else.

He was nervous, but also excited. What if he met his Protector during this mission? (What if he didn't?)

"What's been happening, jaibreian?" Knight Vosa's vaguely familiar voice called, and Obi-Wan muffled his amusement at the long-suffering look that immediately flashed across Master Qui-Gon's face.

"Knight Vosa," Master Qui-Gon greeted stiffly, and Obi-Wan bit the inside of his cheek to hold back the laughter that wanted to escape him. He could feel Komari's mischief, not in the Force (not really) but through his Guide gifts, he could also feel his Master's affectionate resignation. "I was unaware we would be receiving an escort."

"When Jaster heard you'd be bringing your ad, he insisted," an unfamiliar woman said, her voice slightly distorted, and Obi-Wan's eyes went just a little wide at the sudden appearance of a fully-armoured Mandalorian by Komari's side. Her armour was mostly black, with white, gold, and red details that stopped her from looking entirely imposing. "Something about bu'ade."

Bu'ade... ade meant children, Obi-Wan knew, though he wasn't entirely certain yet what the 'bu' was for. He had time to ask, though, if they were going to be travelling to Mandalore with a Mandalorian.

"Of course," Master Qui-Gon said, but Obi-Wan could tell he was bewildered. Komari winked at him, and he ducked his head to hide his grin. Komari was one of his favourite lineage members, and the closest to him in age despite being his lineage 'aunt'. "Well, shall we, then?"

"This way," the Mando said, tilting her helmeted head towards a primarily green-and-red AIAT/i gunship, currently being refuelled. "Almost ready to go," she added as Obi-Wan and his Master followed her and Komari up the walkway, "though I think we're still waiting on one more jetii."

"No, Myles' cyare made it back already," said the Mando sitting in what Obi-Wan was fairly sure was the main cargo bay, tapping away at a pad. His armour, like the other, bore what Obi-Wan knew to be the sigil of the Mand'alor - a mythosaur skull - on one pauldron, and a different sigil - aliik, he was pretty sure they were called - on his chest. "We're just waiting for the refuelling to finish."

"Jetiise, this is Silas, my... second, i think the term is in Basic," the first Mando said.

"Arla, I still haven't agreed," the other, Silas, said with a sigh. "And you know Jango would kick your shebs if you had me officially assigned to you before the two of you have duked it out."

"Then you need to hurry up and pick, verd'ika," said a third Mando, this one not wearing his helmet. He was Pantoran, probably about thirty-five Standard, with kind eyes and a faint smile curling his lips. His armour was mostly silver and blue, with golden pauldrons. The mythosaur skull on his shoulder was blue. "Olarom, jetiise. I am Myles Rhayme, Clan and House Mereel."

"Well met," Master Qui-Gon said, giving a half-bow. "I am Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, and this is my padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Su cuy'gar," Obi-Wan said, hoping that his pronunciation wasn't too atrocious. Myles' smile widened slightly, and his eyes were warm.

"Su'cuy, jetii'ka," he said with such fond warmth that Obi-Wan could feel himself blushing faintly. "You have an interest in learning Mando'a?" Obi-Wan nodded silently. "Jate! We have a few days' travel ahead of us, so if you would like to learn, just find me or Silas."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan said, eyes a little wide at the honest delight, willingness to teach, and affection emanating from the Pantoran.

"N'entye, jetii'ka. No debt," Myles said firmly. "Come, I will show you both to your berth. We will be leaving soon."

Obi-Wan glanced sidelong at Master Qui-Gon, and blushed again at the fond look his jaieh was giving him even as they followed Myles deeper into the ship.

'You hae such charm about you, my padawan,' his jaieh's voice whispered into his mind. 'I shall have to keep myself occupied whilst you learn, hm?' There was no reproach, just affection and warmth, and Obi-Wan smiled a little as he leaned into the strong, reassuring arm that draped over his shoulders briefly. Even at a gangly seventeen, he fit easily beneath his tall Master's arm.

'Thank you, Jaieh,' Obi-Wan sent back, and basked in the warmth of his Master's affection.

He truly didn't have anything to be nervous about. Not on this trip.

Mandalore/Manda'yaim

The trip to Mandalore - Manda'yaim, Silas and Myles and Arla called it - was certainly enlightening. Myles' "cyare", his beloved, was Obi-Wan's jaibreian Feemor, who had greeted both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon warmly, scolding Master Qui-Gon over his lack of comm contact since he and Obi-Wan had returned from Melida/Daan - now just Melidaan, and flourishing under Cerasi and Nield's combined rule - three years prior.

Komari, who Obi-Wan had learned directly after takeoff was also a Guide, was partnered with Arla (Arla Fett, eldest child of the Mand'alor) as her Protector. Dral'cabur, in Mando'a, which Obi-Wan liked a lot better than the Basic term that the Jedi had been using.

Feemor wasn't a Guide, but his ankai'a wasn't a Dral'cabur and didn't have the potential (according to the tests that Mando'ade had developed over the centuries since they had stopped bonding with Jedi Guides) of such, so Obi-Wan was quite certain that his jaibreian would not have his heart broken by Myles becoming active. And the pair worked well together, from what Obi-Wan had observed.

(Even regular Mando'ade and Jedi matched well, it seemed. The compatibility of their cultures was fascinating...)

The spaceport at Keldabe was huge and well maintained, active but not busy like a Republic world's capital might be. Everyone was wearing armour, though in varying amounts, and Obi-Wan was pleasantly surprised by how little empathic 'noise' his Guide shields were needing to block out.

The Force wasn't warning of danger, but there was a sense of gleeful anticipation lingering about. Obi-Wan wasn't sure if he should be wary or concerned or not.

Time would tell.

Jango had been impatiently waiting for his vod to return from Coruscanta with the jettise that had been requested by the karking Evaar'ade to attend their meetings with Jaster in this coming week. Arla had commandeered Silas and Myles for the trip, and Jango hated that his ori'vod might have used the time to steal the verd Jango had wanted as his second since before Arla had been rescued from Kyr'tsad.

He was pretty interested in seeing what the jetiise would be like, though. He'd heard that one of the Jetii'tsad's best diplomats was being sent, with their jetii'ad, and if Jango was remembering correctly, his buir's jetii had said at least once that one of his ade - one of the older ones - was among the best diplomats in the Jetii'tsad. And that said jetii had been the one to train Myles' cyare, Feemor, and had another ad at the moment who was close to Jango's age.

And, unfortunately, also close to the age of the Evaar'ade duke's elder daughter, Satine Kryze, who Jango was one sly statement away from shooting. With a stunner, of course, he wasn't going to ruin things for his buir by killing the Core-influenced Evaar'ad (or go against Jaster's Codex by attacking an unarmed civilian) - but if he had to listen to her talk about how barbaric he and the rest of his aliit were for much longer, he'd show her just how barbaric he really was.

(Part of his irritation with the elder Kryze daughter was primarily because she seemed to think that the incoming jetiise would agree with her desire to strip Mando'ade of their culture, and help her buir gain the title of Mand'alor over Jaster. Jango knew that likely wouldn't be the case, but the Evaar'ad's smug confidence was really starting to grind on him. As was her fear whenever he was around her without sealing off his beskar'gam to stop scents from reaching his sensitive nose.)

When his ori'vod returned from Coruscanta, Jango was in a meeting with Jaster, Dooku, Duke Kryze, Satine (who Jango wished would stop making disparaging comments about both Haat'ade and Dral'cabur'e) and a few of the Clan Heads who had not yet decided who to swear to. (Jango was hoping they would swear to Jaster by the end of these negotiations, if only so that they wouldn't swear to Kyr'tsad or the Evaar'ade.)

So he was present when the jetiise from Coruscanta arrived - a tall, long-haired human or near-human with a nose that looked like it had been broken at least twice and set poorly at least once, and a lean, pretty young human/near-human with sandy-red hair and a long, thin, decorated braid that was certainly that of a jet'hibir. The jet'hibir was standing a couple of steps behind his jet'bajur, face placid, but Jango saw how sharp his blue eyes were as he took in the room.

"Olarom, jetiise," Jaster greeted them. Intriguingly, the jetii'ka gave a proper Mando gesture of respect, fist to heart, while his jet'buir bowed. Jango was quite certain that only he and Jaster heard Dooku's longsuffering sigh, and he was glad for his buy'ce so that his own snicker went unnoticed.

"Thank you for your welcome, Mand'alor," the tall jetii replied, voice calm and polite. And, surprisingly, not butchering Jaster's title despite his clear lack of familiarity with Mando'a. "I am Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, and this is my padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Su'cuy, Mand'alor Mereel," the jetii'ka greeted in turn, only a hint of a Core accent to the Mando'a that fell from his lips. Jango was curious now - had this pretty jetii'ka learned Mando'a, and learned it well, just for this?

"Su'cuy, ad," Jaster replied, and Jango didn't even need to see his buir's face to know that he was already softening a bit around the edges like he always did around ade. Even if the jetii'ka was close to adulthood. "I trust your journey was uneventful?"

"It was swift and unhindered, though I believe having my former padawan, current one, and sibling-padawan in close quarters may have been an error of judgement on my part," Jet'bajur Jinn said dryly, and Kenobi's cheeks went faintly pink.

Oh, kara, he had freckles too. Mesh'la.

Duke Kryze cleared his throat slightly, and the two new jetiise were immediately the picture of professional calm once more.

"Greetings and welcome, Master Jedi," the Evaar'ade leader said. "I am glad to see the Senate deems this matter worthy of Jedi oversight."

Jango bristled, and he wasn't the only one. Alor Wren visibly twitched, and Alor Awaud's shooting hand drifted towards the holster on his thigh.

"From a certain point of view," Jet'bajur Jinn said mildly, hands hidden inside his draping sleeves, and Jango just barely caught the flash of amusement on jet'hibir Kenobi's face before it was schooled into a placid mask once more. Jinn then turned towards Dooku and bowed again. "Master, it is good to see you well. Congratulations on finding your Protector." The last word was not one Jango recognised, though it had the same kind of feeling to it that Jango had noticed when Vosa called Dooku 'jaieh'. It was the Jedi language, Jango thought, but not a word he'd heard before.

It was funny, really, how Duke Kryze's face twitched at the realisation that the jetii he'd called in probably wasn't as impartial as he'd wanted.

"Thank you, padawan," Dooku replied graciously, and Jango snickered behind his buy'ce again. Kryze was starting to go a bit red, clearly flustered. "When we are finished here, we should speak. I am sure there is much for us to discuss."

Jet'bajur Jinn said something mild and agreeing, and then glided forwards - there was really no other way Jango could describe it, what with those robes and the grace of his movement - to settle in one of the free seats that had been placed between the Evaar'ade and the Haat'ade at the discussion table. Jet'hibir Kenobi took the other seat, almost directly in Jango's line of sight, and pulled out a pad with the clear intention of taking notes.

Jaster cleared his throat slightly, and brought the meeting back on track. Jango listened with only half his focus, instead taking the opportunity to watch the jet'hibir from behind his buy'ce.

He wanted to know more about the intriguing redhead.

Obi-Wan had never felt a bonded Guide before, and it was entrancing how steady and stable Tonjaieh Dooku's Guide gifts were. And the instant Obi-Wan had stepped into the large meeting room, just behind his jaieh, his tonjaieh's Guide shields had stretched towards and around Obi-Wan's own, strengthening them and supporting him subtly as he took in the emotions rolling off the unarmoured Mandalorians in the room.

The constant mild fear and distaste from the blonde teenager in the rich blue dress, whom Obi-Wan was able to identify from the mission brief as Satine Kryze, eldest daughter of Duke Adonai Kryze, was distracting, but Tonjaieh Dooku's assistance with his Guide shields meant that he could ignore her for the time being. He would need to meditate later, and strengthen his shields, but for today he would make do.

He took notes meticulously on his pad, playing the part of the dutiful aide and not permitting his expression or even his Force Presence to give away his true thoughts as he jotted down his insights and understandings alongside his note-taking. His jaieh had said many times that he valued Obi-Wan's insight, and what Obi-Wan tended to notice during discussions and negotiations did differ from what caught Master Qui-Gon's attention. And, in this case, Obi-Wan's rapidly improving Mando'a allowed him to catch some asides that his jaieh certainly had not.

And wasn't that interesting? Despite Obi-Wan having, perhaps, played his hand a little soon by using Mando'a to greet the Mand'alor, most of the Mando'ade present didn't seem to think he could understand their comments. Or, perhaps, they thought they were being quieter than they were?

All the New Mandalorians, though, spoke Basic and Basic only. They seemed to understand exactly what was being said when the other Mando'ade spoke in Mando'a, though Obi-Wan did notice Satine's well-concealed confusion a few times, but they didn't use the language themselves. Not even for the Mand'alor's title, which was very interesting.

And honestly, concerning. The New Mandalorians wanted to be recognised as the ruling body of Mandalore, but they wouldn't follow the Resol'nare. They didn't speak the language, didn't wear any armour - not even vambraces! - and didn't carry any arms whatsoever. Not even a holdout stun pistol. And from what Obi-Wan had gathered so far from simply listening, it seemed like the New Mandalorians wanted to get rid of everything that made Mando'ade and Mando culture so interesting and unique.

The meeting - the 'negotiation', for all that nothing had been negotiated so far - was called to a halt in mid-afternoon, when frustrations had grown too high for anything productive to occur. The New Mandalorians all exited in what Obi-Wan could only describe as a snit, and a few of the apparently unaffiliated Clan Heads had trickled out shortly afterwards, a few pausing to speak quietly to Mand'alor Mereel before they did so.

And then the only ones remaining other than Obi-Wan and his Master were Master Dooku, Mand'alor Mereel, the fully-armoured Mando'ad that Obi-Wan had learned was the Mand'alor's other child, Jango Fett, and an older human-or-near in sandy-gold armour who had been called "Baar'ur Gilamar" by some of the Clan Heads.

The doors closed, and Mand'alor Mereel released a huge sigh, slumping into his seat. Master Dooku rolled his eyes, but Obi-Wan could feel his affection and amusement as he placed a hand on the nape of his Dral'cabur's neck. Obi-Wan tucked his pad away - he'd go over his notes with his jaieh later - and watched the interaction curiously.

And, admittedly, with a little bit of longing. He'd not been an active Guide for long, but he could constantly feel the faint ache in his very soul that all Guides in the Order had mentioned, that had apparently been alleviated for his tonjaieh when the Master had met his Dral'cabur.

"Are you sure we can't just send them off back to Kalevala and wash our hands of them, buir?" said Jango Fett, reaching up and removing his helmet - his buy'ce - a moment later.

And Obi-Wan gasped, unable to help himself, as the part of him that was purely Guide reacted to the sudden presence of a truly compatible Dral'cabur. Fett had frozen the second his buy'ce left his head, and was staring right back at Obi-Wan with clear surprise. And something, someone, was reaching back, as Fett - as Jango - took a deep breath and his pupils dilated rapidly.

"Ner jetii," he all but growled, and Obi-Wan suppressed a shiver. My Jedi, Jango had said, and Obi-Wan's soul had rejoiced and agreed.

The Force sang happily.

Almost unbidden, almost against his conscious choice, a reply fell from Obi-Wan's lips in perfectly practiced Mando'a.

"Ner Dral'cabur."

⋆⭒˚.⋆.˚⭒⋆

Between Dral'cabur'e and their Je'daii, there is a sacred bond.

The Je'daii anchors the Dral'cabur's enhanced senses, allowing them to utilise them in fascinatingly complex manners. And, in turn, the Dral'cabur acts as a shield for the Je'daii, whose empathy and spiritual awareness is both heightened and different from that of a non-Je'daii Force Sensitive individual.

It is still unknown how compatibility between Je'daii and Dral'cabur'e is determined, but what has been confirmed is thus: there must be reciprocal acknowledgement between a pair for their bond to form.

⋆⭒˚.⋆.˚⭒⋆

Manda'yaim

Yan sighed as he sank into one of the criminally comfortable chairs in the karyai, the main room, of the 'apartments' he shared with his Dral'cabur. (The Mando'a phrase for what Jedi had only ever referred to as "protectors" really did have a certain something that Basic lacked.)

"I have to admit, I hadn't thought your bu'ad would match Jan'ika so well," Jaster said as he finished removing his beskar'gam and came to settle beside Yan on the couch.

"I hadn't even known until he arrived that he had also become Active," Yan admitted. "It had not been mentioned, and from what I have been able to ascertain, it is a recent development."

"Who knows why these things happen?" Jaster asked, the question clearly rhetorical. Yan was tempted to answer (he had been exposed to the terrible sense of humour that was shared by his own jaieh, padawans, and jaibreian far too often, it seemed), but Jaster continued before he could formulate his jest. "At least they only realised after the Evaar'ade had left, or I'd never hear the end of it from Kryze."

"Indeed, though you and I both know that Jango only kept his buy'ce on his head for the meeting so that he could laugh and complain about the Evaar'ade without being caught," Yan replied mildly. Jaster snorted, and Yan smiled a little as his Dral'cabur dragged him closer and tucked his nose into Yan's neck. Yan stroked his fingers through his partner's salt-and-pepper hair.

"As long as he doesn't openly mock them, he can wear his buy'ce during those blasted meetings," Jaster grumbled. "If I could get away with wearing mine, I would. They stink of disrespect, fear, and deceit."

"We will find a solution, ankai'a," Yan murmured. "Maverick my old padawan may be, but he excels in finding solutions in matters such as these."

Jaster made a small noise of agreement, and they settled into a comfortable silence as Yan wrapped their bond around them and they both basked in it.

Satine Kryze may be pretty, Obi-Wan thought a few days later, keeping his calm mask on his face only through sheer force of will, but she had an ugly mindset. On the surface, her passion for her beliefs seemed admirable and much like Cerasi's desire for peace, but on a deeper level... what the New Mandalorians preached and reached for was a cultural genocide.

And if he had to hear one more time how the Dral'cabur'e were 'throwbacks to a violent past who should not be able to hold such power in modern galactic society when their barbarism was unnecessary', he was going to lose his temper.

Especially since, for some inexplicable reason, he had been prompted (told) to spend time with the two Kryze daughters (and, thankfully, Jango) while negotiations between the New Mandalorians and the Haat Mando'ade continued under Master Qui-Gon's careful guidance.

(He was thankful that his jaieh had simply been amused by the sudden bond that had sprung up between Obi-Wan and Jango, that his jaieh had merely smiled and wrapped him in warmth and affection through their training bond before gently pushing him towards his Dral'cabur. For all that they had a rocky start, Obi-Wan loved his jaieh fiercely, and that familial love was returned without hesitation.)

"...barbarian as the leader of our people simply—"

"Lady Kryze," Obi-Wan interrupted, tone mild but firm, "I will have to ask you to please cease antagonising one of our hosts, and also cease insulting multiple members of my own lineage." And myself, he thought acerbically.

"But you are a Jedi! Surely you can see how violence only begets more violence!" Satine protested. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at her and gestured to the hilt of his lightsaber, worn openly on his hip.

"This is a weapon, Lady Kryze, that I have been trained to use in both a defensive and offensive manner since I was a child. It is not for decoration. Sometimes, violent acts must be utilised to protect the innocent, and that is exactly what Dral'cabur'e and the Resol'nare are for. The protection of children and other innocents." Satine was red-faced in embarrassment and fury both, and Obi-Wan continued before she could voice the rant she was clearly working up to. "I have seen violence, Lady Kryze. I have seen war. And one thing I can guarantee you is that not everyone can be reasoned with. Words cannot win every battle. Sometimes, violence must answer violence to make room for peace talks. But refusing to protect yourself will not stop those who mean you harm from inflicting said harm." He stared coldly at her. "What you speak of ensuring for Manda'yaim, Lady Kryze, is not peace, not pacifism, but helplessness and apathy. Neither will ensure the survival or protection of your people."

"Well said, ad," said an unfamilar voice, and Obi-Wan turned to see a fully-armoured Mando'ad in the courtyard entryway. Their beskar'gam was painted vibrant orange, teal, and white, with what Obi-Wan hesitantly identified as the Clan Awaud aliik in pink. Lust for life, healing, fresh start, and respect, if he had recalled the colour meanings correctly (presuming that the colours had been chosen for meaning rather than for the wearer's preferred aesthetic). An interesting choice, but one that Obi-Wan could respect and identify with.

"Vor'e," Obi-Wan said with a polite nod. Satine huffed loudly, but stormed off without attempting to keep arguing, and Obi-Wan withheld a tired sigh. He'd likely hear about his little rant later, especially if Lady Kryze decided to complain about it to anyone but her sister.

The warmth of Jango's support and affection drifted through their still very new bond, and Obi-Wan sent back his appreciation even as he leaned subtly into the gloved hand that pressed against the small of his back.

"It worries me that you have known war, ad, and that you speak of it as if years have passed," the potentially-Awaud Mando continued. "Where was your jet'buir?"

"We were separated," Obi-Wan admitted.

Melidaan had been... horrendous. He was just glad he had not yet been an active Guide whilst there. He and his jaieh had formulated a plan to get help sent to the Young, for Obi-Wan being stranded on a war-torn planet was supposed to allow the Jedi to return for him in greater numbers, but the Senate had blocked them again and again and again until Master Jinn and Master Tholme, with Quinlan in tow, had defied the Senate and (according to public record, at least) the Council to steal a Temple starfighter and come back for Obi-Wan just in time to help prevent Cerasi's death.

The lingering what-may-have-beens tormented him still...

"Where did you go just now, ner jetii?" Jango's voice, unfiltered by his buy'ce, murmured, and Obi-Wan blinked and realised that his Dral'cabur was cradling his face between his hands. He took a deep breath, let it out slow, and then leaned - just a little - into Jango's careful hold.

"Memories," he admitted quietly. "Melidaan was horrible. I do not wish to speak of it," he added when Jango frowned and opened his mouth, undoubtedly to ask. Jango paused, then sighed and nodded. He rested their foreheads together gently, and Obi-Wan blushed as he heard the hastily-stifled coo from the probably-Awaud individual still standing nearby. Jango also went just a little red, though his blush was less visible, as he pulled back from the tender gesture.

"Did you need something, ver'alor Awaud?" Jango asked, his tone just barely still within the realms of polite. Ver'alor... lieutenant? Or some kind of commander, Obi-Wan thought. (He could sense Jango's faint embarrassment at having been caught in a somewhat intimate position with Obi-Wan by a near-stranger.)

"Udesii, alor'ad," the ver'alor chuckled. They removed their buy'ce, revealing a Sephi with unusual silver eyes. Almost immediately, Obi-Wan was able to sense that they were another Dral'cabur. (There were a startling number of them among Mando'ade, though perhaps no more than there were Guides among Jedi.) "I have no designs on your jetii," they continued, voice clearer now. There was a good-natured air about them, and they smiled at both Jango and Obi-Wan. "You're a little young for my preferences, ad, and very clearly not my match. I am Arrim Solus of Clan Awaud."

"Well met, ver'alor Solus," Obi-Wan replied, falling back on more familiar greetings and niceties, though he didn't forget that bowing was frowned upon. "Vor'e for your timely intervention. I fear I was losing my patience."

"A dangerous thing indeed, for a jetii to do so," Ver'alor Solus agreed easily, though without the hint of mockery or nastiness that Obi-Wan might have expected from someone saying such a thing. "I was merely passing when I heard your words, ad, I was not seeking you out. Ret'urcye mhi, jetii'ka, al'verde." With a polite nod to each of them, the Mando replaced their buy'ce, thumped a fist against their chest in salute, and then left without further hesitation.

What a strange interaction...

By the time Obi-Wan left Manda'yaim with his Master, a year and a half had passed, and Obi-Wan was able to be parted with his Dral'cabur for weeks at a time.

(They had found that out the hard way when the remains of Kyr'tsad had attempted to bomb Sundari whilst negotiations had shifted there for a month, and Obi-Wan had ended up dragging Satine and her sister, Bo-Katan, along behind him as he evaded Kyr'tsad and did his best to keep the helpless 'pacifist' and her bloodthirsty little sibling (Obi-Wan adored Bo-Katan after the first time he saw her shiv a Kyr'tsad verd in the spleen) alive long enough to reunite them with their father. Obi-Wan had been separated from his Dral'cabur for almost three months, and while he had been relieved beyond measure to be reunited with Jango, he hadn't overtly suffered at being apart. Their bond, new as it was, had been robust enough to handle the distance.)

And so when Kyr'tsad was no more and a truce was finally reached, with Duke Kryze reluctantly giving over the care of his younger child to the Haat'ade (she had threatened to run away and join them of her own accord if her father didn't let her stay with them) before returning with his elder daughter to Kalevala, Obi-Wan had known that he would soon be parted (if only temporarily) from his Dral'cabur.

"The Council has agreed to open a satellite Temple on Manda'yaim," Master Yan told Obi-Wan the night before he was due to depart. "When you have passed your Trials of Knighthood, you will be able to change your Temple of origin to the Mandalorian Temple. You will be able to remain here, with your Dral'cabur, between missions. Or," he added with a rueful smile, "you could simply become one of the Wandering Masters, as I have done to be able to remain with my own Dral'cabur."

"Thank you, tonjaieh," Obi-Wan whispered, relieved beyond belief. He had worried that the Council would attempt to keep him from Jango, citing 'attachment', but he should have known that his tonjaieh would have a plan in the works.

"Of course, my dear grandpadawan," Master Yan murmured back, and drawn Obi-Wan into a warm, gentle hug as he wrapped his Guide shields around Obi-Wan, much like he had done that very first day on Manda'yaim. "If you ever have need of me, young one, I will be there. All you must do is call."

"Vor entye, ba'buir," he whispered, the Mando'a falling from his tongue just as naturally as Dai Bendu did, though in this moment the Mando'a felt more appropriate. His tonjaieh's arms tightened around him, just a little, before they separated easily.

"N'entye, ner bu'ad," Yan whispered back, and then pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. Even after a year and a half, Obi-Wan was still much shorter than his jaieh and tonjaieh. "Go and say your farewells to your Dral'cabur, child. I will see you in the morning."

And morning had come, far too quickly for Obi-Wan's comfort, and now he stood on the landing pad saying his goodbyes to his Dral'cabur.

"Ret'urcye mhi, ner jetii," Jango murmured into the space between their breaths as they rested their foreheads together in a gentle mirshmure'cya, and Obi-Wan smiled and closed his eyes as he basked in the moment.

"Re'urcye mhi, ner Dral'cabur," he murmured back.

Minutes later, he glanced back over his shoulder as the boarding ramp closed behind him, and sent one last wave of warm affection and trust and love through their bond before he completely lost sight of his Dral'cabur.

He carried the warmth of Jango's love with him all the way into hyperspace.

⋆⭒˚.⋆.˚⭒⋆

With the success of their plot to separate the Je'daii from their Dral'cabur'e, making each group more vulnerable to Dark manipulations, the Sith made a grave, grave error.

They forgot that the Force works in mysterious ways.

They forgot "Mando'ad draar digu."

They forgot that life always, always finds a way to right the wrongs done to it.

They forgot what Dral'cabur'e and Je'daii truly were: protectors and defenders.

They forgot that the reason their predecessors had considered the Dral'cabur'e and Je'daii such a threat because the Sith were anathema to their cause.

And that, in the end, would be their downfall.

⋆⭒˚.⋆.˚⭒⋆

Naboo

When he had sensed the Dark Acolyte on Tatooine, Obi-Wan had thought immediately that the source had seemed... young. Likely old enough for their verd'goten to have recently passed had they been Mando'ad, but not yet a full adult. Still a student, as Obi-Wan was (though his jaieh had not been twisting the truth when he'd told the Council that he thought Obi-Wan ready for his Trials), but younger. The equivalent of a junior padawan, perhaps, instead of one nearing the completion of their padawanship.

That thought was proven sadly true, when they met the robed figure whilst infiltrating the Theed palace with Queen Amidala and her handmaidens. Obi-Wan and Master Qui-Gon had urged the Nabooians ahead, to see to their goal of capturing the Neimoidian Viceroy, tucking little Anakin - the feral little former-slave boy whom had latched onto Obi-Wan the instant they met and felt like the Twin Suns of Tatooine in the Force - into a starfighter with orders to use the guns (and only the guns) if he needed to defend himself or others from the Trade Union's battledroids.

And then, sinking into their training bond, they had turned to face their opponent.

Their opponent who, Obi-Wan realised and conveyed to his jaieh through their bond, was terrified and hiding it very well from Force-based empathy, but failing to hide it from an active Guide.

'What course of action do you suggest, padawan?' Master Qui-Gon asked through their bond, even as they fended off the young apprentice - for he could not be more than fourteen to Obi-Wan's twenty-two and Qui-Gon's near-fifty - who was wielding a lightstaff with remarkable skill.

'Get him away from any monitoring devices, then I'll try to calm him,' Obi-Wan sent back.

'The reactor, perhaps?'

'That should do.'

And with that in mind, the Jedi pair began to subtly prod their young opponent towards Theed's reactor complex, where they could trap the Dathomirian Zabrak and talk him down.

The instant the cycling shields closed, trapping Obi-Wan and the young Zabrak on one side with Qui-Gon having been just barely too slow to make it through, Obi-Wan reached out with his Guide gifts and pressed 'calm, warmth, familial love, safety' upon the teen. The Zabrak swayed, golden eyes widening in clear surprise, and his lightstaff fell from his grip. Obi-Wan stepped towards him, pausing when the youth flinched.

"Easy, ad'ika," he soothed, unintentionally falling into the tone of voice he'd used with the youngest of the Young on Melidaan, with the foundlings he'd played games with on his last visit to Manda'yaim, with the crechelings and younglings in the Temple, with little Anakin whilst comforting the boy on the journey to Coruscant. "Udesii, I will do you no harm." He kept projecting warmth and safety and calm, utilising his Guide gifts to mostly bypass the Zabrak's powerful Force shields, and then took a step closer and extinguished his lightsaber, tucking it away and holding out his hands, palms up and fingers relaxed, towards the teen. "You do not have to fight us, verd'ika."

"What are you doing to me?" the teen asked in a wavering, surprisingly soft voice. "How are you getting past my shields?"

"I am just extending my calm to you, verd'ika, and allowing you to feel the safety I wish to offer you," Obi-Wan assured him gently. "I am what is called a Guide in Basic, for the true term for my kind has been lost to time. You need a different kind of shield to block a Guide's gifts, I'm afraid." He gave the Zabrak a moment to process that. "My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. Might I know yours?"

"...Maul," came the quiet, hesitant reply a few seconds later. Maul listed towards Obi-Wan, his pupils blown wide in his golden eyes. Already, the feeling of Darkness was fading.

"Well met, Maul. May I come closer?" He waited patiently, still broadcasting all the positive emotions he could muster, and was rewarded for his patience a few moments later when Maul gave an almost shy nod. Obi-Wan smiled and stepped right into the Dathomirian's space, curling the fingers of one hand carefully around some of his horns in a gesture he knew - thanks to some of the Zabrak foundlings on Manda'yaim - was one of familial affection, specifically from an elder kinsperson to a younger.

Maul startled, but then melted into the touch with a soft sound not unlike a purr, jolting a moment later when he seemed to realise what he'd done. Obi-Wan just kept swamping the teen in warmth and safety and contentedness, and soon that hesitant purr started up again.

"Allow me and mine to protect you, Maul. We will teach you all you need to know to survive and thrive in this galaxy, away from the Darkness that has attempted to drag you down," he murmured. Maul heaved a sigh that seemed too large for his lean frame, and then he slumped until his head rested on Obi-Wan's shoulder and his hands shyly grasped the front of Obi-Wan's tabards. Obi-Wan kept one hand in the teen's horns, still keeping up that comforting gesture of familial affection, and wrapped the other arm loosely around Maul's shoulders.

'Well done, padawan,' Master Qui-Gon whispered across their bond. 'The Darkness is fading rapidly. Though I do believe you will need to explain to your Protector how you have come to adopt not one, but two children in the short time since last you saw him.'

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, and sent his jaieh back the mental image of a very rude, if playful, gesture. His jaieh started to chuckle quietly, and Obi-Wan pointedly ignored him.

(He had been considering asking Jango to say the riduurok with him once he was knighted... Jango would undoubtedly be on board with adopting a few ade with Obi-Wan!)

(Later, Obi-Wan would sigh as he learned what Anakin had done during the battle - which was decidedly not remaining safe in the hangar - and just know that Jango would adore the child.)

(Later again, Obi-Wan would loom protectively over his new ade as he noticed the avarice with which the new Chancellor, Sheev Palpatine, looked at cautious, bright An'ika and terrified, Grey-aligned Maul. He did not trust politicians, especially not those whose records were so squeaky clean as Sheev Palpatine's, and he would never allow either of his ade to be in the man's presence alone.)

(And later still, Obi-Wan would smile and press his severed padawan braid into his jaieh's hands, wishing him safe and speedy travels as they parted ways - Qui-Gon to Tatooine to free An'ika's mother, and Obi-Wan to Dathomir to find Maul's siblings.)

Manda'yaim

His son was missing.

His son was missing, and all they had been able to find was his ship, abandoned on one of the moons of Bogden.

His son was missing, and his son's jetii had just hailed Keldabe spaceport.

Haar'chak.

Obi-wan frowned at Jaster, his four new ade clinging close to back and sides, as the Mand'alor greeted him with a tired, painful looking smile.

"What happened?" he asked instead of going through the usual courtesies he would employ despite Jaster's repeated requests that Obi-Wan treat him as aliit.

"Obi'ika," Jaster began, and then sighed when Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. Master Yan, who had been in a staring contest of sorts with young Feral, Maul's youngest brother, snorted and looked away, a faint smile quirking up the side of his mouth when Fer'ika made a small, pleased sound and emanated triumph into the Force.

"You should know better, ankai'a, than to attempt to misdirect my bu'ad," Tonjaieh Yan told his Dral'cabur. Then he turned back to Obi-Wan, serious once more, reaching out through the Force and their mutual Guide gifts both to offer support and shielding. "Obi-Wan, Jango has been missing since shortly after your mission to Naboo began. I believe you had just left Tatooine when we last heard from him."

Obi-Wan went completely still.

"What?" he asked softly. He reached for his bond with his Dral'cabur, stretched with distance as it was whenever they were not on the same planet, and relaxed just a fraction when he found the bond undamaged. Stretched thin, but not damaged. Still robust at its core. "Where?"

"Last we heard, he'd glimpsed Montross and was in pursuit. We found his ship on one of the moons of Bogden," Jaster reported grimly. "Montross' body was also present, but there was no ship to indicate how he got there."

"Someone has taken my Dral'cabur?" Obi-Wan asked, dangerously quiet.

"It appears so. We have been searching, subtly, ever since. Arla and Komari are tracing back Jango's route and attempting to find record of the ship Montross may have been using. Feemor and Myles are, as of this morning, hunting for Jango's initial employer, as their meeting place has since burned down."

"Of course it has," Obi-Wan muttered flatly, and then he took a deep breath and held it for just a moment.

When he exhaled, he did his best to expell his frustration and fear alongside it.

"We will find him, Obi'ika," Jaster swore. "Haat, ijaat, haa'it."

Master Yan reached out through their familial bond, reassurance and determination strong, and Obi-Wan sent back his own gratitude with a small sigh. Then he shook himself and turned his attention to his four ade.

"Let's go find your Jan'buir, shall we?" he asked lightly, and smirked at the sudden dread that he felt grip both Jaster and Master Yan.

"Elek, O'buir!" his four mischeivous ade chorused, and Obi-Wan ruffled Anakin's hair and gave Savage's horns a gentle shake.

"Oya," he murmured, and swept out of the room, ushering his little menaces ahead of him even as Jaster and Yan called after him with faint but increasing alarm. His menaces giggled to themselves, racing through the halls, and Obi-Wan followed them out of the keldab with a plan already forming in his mind.

"Ben!" he heard a familiar voice call, right as he was reaching the hanger, and he paused to glance back a the source.

Bo-Katan, fifteen now and clad in well-maintained beskar'gam, was rushing towards them, her buy'ce hooked on her belt and a grin on her face. 

"Bo'ika," Obi-Wan greeted her fondly, and Bo-Katan rolled her eyes. Obi-Wan chuckled. "What can I do for you, verd'ika?"

"You're going hunting for Jango, right? I want to come with you," she declared bluntly. Obi-Wan paused, tilted his head, and then glanced at his four children. All of them were watching Bo-Katan with varying levels of curiosity, but none of them seemed opposed to her presence.

"Do you have permission? I do not wish to be accused of kidnapping," Obi-Wan pointed out dryly. Bo-Katan snorted, and there was something bitter in the twist of her lips and her presence in the Force, non-Sensitive though she was.

"The Duke only contacts me every three months. Satine doesn't reach out at all. I won't be missed, but even if I am, I've passed my verd'goten. I'm legally able to choose to travel."

"Very well," Obi-Wan conceded as gracefully as he could. "Come along, then. We will need to be quick to beat Jaster and ba'buir to Jaster's ship once they realise what I'm planning."

Bo-Katan grinned, wild and fierce, and shoved her buy'ce on her head.

"Oya!" she declared, and Obi-Wan chuckled.

Five stab-happy ade, and a furious Guide? Whoever took Jango would soon regret it.

Kamino

Everything hurt. Everything was too bright and too loud and too sterile and too quiet and just too much all at once.

He wanted his jetii. Wanted to bury his nose in his cyare's throat to get his scent, press his ear to Obi-Wan's chest and hear his heartbeat, wanted to be wrapped in his jetii's presence and arms until he felt stable again.

He'd been bordering on naas'tratyc since the moment he woke up in this place. He didn't know how long he'd been here, didn't even know where 'here' was, but the tall grey-skinned natives weren't at all forthcoming when he tried to demand answers from them. They treated him like a subject, taking blood and marrow and plasma and a whole host of other things that Jango couldn't identify beyond the fact that having them taken hurt.

How long had he been here, drugged and violated and trapped?

Had his absence been noticed, or had it not yet been long enough for his buir or ori'vod or ven'riduur to realise he was not just travelling but taken?

What did these beings want with him?

With every day that passed, Jango spiralled further and further, slipping slowly but steadily into the state that all Dral'cabur'e feared.

Naas'tratyc.

Somewhere in the Rishi Maze, near the borders of Wild Space

Fear, pain, confusion, hurt, fear, stop, stop, stop!

That was all Obi-Wan could get through his bond to his Dral'cabur, and he was becoming more and more frantic as the weeks and months rolled on.

It had been close to a year since he'd started attempting to follow his bond with Jango, hoping that the change in its 'feel' with closer proximity would allow him to navigate towards his beloved. He'd managed to narrow it down to somewhere near the end of the Rishi Maze, but all the inhabited and inhabitable planets he and his five ade had visited had failed to turn up Jango. Planetfall had stretched their bond, even, rather than giving Obi-Wan a clear sign of his Dral'cabur's presence, and he was losing hope.

But he could still sense Jango. His Dral'cabur was still alive, still somewhere near the end of the Rishi Maze, but Obi-Wan just could not find him!

"O'buir!" Anakin shouted from the communications room, and Obi-Wan jolted out of his seeking daze at the excitement in his youngest's voice. He raced towards the room in question, almost crashing right into the blond child in the doorway. Anakin was waving a pad excitedly. "Jaieh Nu found something!"

"What is it?" Obi-Wan asked, even as he held out his hands and was passed the pad. He started skimming the 'mail from the Head of the Temple Archives.

"There was a planet that someone tried to delete from the Archives!" Anakin babbled. "It's past the end of the Maze, out in Wild Space! Kamino!"

The Force chimed, and Obi-Wan quickly sought out the coordinates for the planet in question.

Not too far from where they were currently floating in the black, and likely why this was the point at which Obi-Wan had felt his connection to Jango become strongest.

"Set the coordinates, An'ika," Obi-Wan told his youngest, passing back the pad. He turned towards the mess, where he knew Bo-Katan was currently teaching Maul how to play cu'bikad while Savage and Feral watched. "Arm yourselves, ade. We have a lead!"

"Oya, O'buir!" his children chorused, and Obi-Wan smiled at the anticipation that emanated from all five of them. He headed for his berth, and for the partial beskar'gam he had taken to wearing when making planetfall.

He had a good feeling about this lead. Onwards, to Kamino.

⋆⭒˚.⋆.˚⭒⋆

The Sith Rule of Two will, eventually, be the downfall of the Sith.

This certainty has been growing as the galaxy continues on, as Dral'cabur'e once again find their Je'daii in spite of - and in some cases, thanks to - the meddling of the Sith.

All it takes is one foolish misstep, and the Line of Bane will come plummeting down.

⋆⭒˚.⋆.˚⭒⋆

Kamino

They'd cloned him.

The beings here, the Kaminoans, had cloned Jango. Hundreds upon hundreds of times, if the rows upon rows upon rows of vats were any indication, though Obi-Wan had the sinking feeling that the ikaade he had been shown had been only a portion of those originally created.

"Ade," he said calmly, cutting off the Kaminoan scientist - Ko Sai - mid-sentence. The being blinked her large black eyes at Obi-Wan, confused.

"Pardon, Master Jedi?" Ko Sai asked politely.

"I was not speaking to you, demagolka," Obi-Wan said in that same placid tone. He turned towards his children, all of whom were all but vibrating with the desire to hunt. "Go. Find all of your baby siblings and keep them safe. I will find your Jan'buir."

"Elek, O'buir," his ade chorused. Their grins were wild, animalistic, unhinged, and Obi-Wan knew his eyes were gleaming with a hint of the same.

"Oya," he said simply, and turned back to Ko Sai as his ade went racing back towards the room in which the dozen three-year-old (equivalent) clones of Jango were being 'taught'. "You and I, Chief Scientist, are going to have a little chat about sentient rights, and you are going to tell me exactly who has been in contact with you since you began this little project. And then, once I have the information I require, I will be taking my husband and all of our new children—"

"They're clones, not children," Ko Sai interrupted, bristling, and Obi-Wan lit his lightsaber, holding it to the Kaminoan's long throat. She froze, as was sensible when a plasma sword was being held to a vital body part.

"Allow me to repeat myself, since you did not seem to hear me clearly the first time," Obi-Wan said mildly. "I will be taking my husband and all of our new children with me." He smiled genially. "Am I understood?" Ko Sai nodded timidly. Obi-Wan extinguished his lightsaber. "Good. Now, tell me what I need to know."

Once he had the information, he would go find Jango. Something was very, very wrong, but Obi-Wan didn't dare leave without knowing who had planned this. He could not allow an enemy to remain unknown when he had the means of identifying them.

"Oh," he said softly, and then smiled at Ko Sai and Lama Su sweetly. "It appears I am about to commit treason. My apologies for the headache you will have when you wake," he added brightly, and then shoved 'sleep' at the pair - and at all Kaminoans he could sense within his range - with his Guide gifts. The Kaminoans dropped like stones, and Obi-Wan stood gracefully from his seat to brush off his robes.

The demagolkase who had cloned his Dral'cabur would wake eventually, and probably without any ill effects other than a headache, but Obi-Wan wished to be long gone when they did.

He turned his attention to his bond with Jango, and followed it - robust once again, though resonating with pain and fear and a terrifying blankness - on a direct path. He cared not for the walls between him and his goal, gratituous use of the Force punching through the walls and doors that barred him from his Dral'cabur.

He was aware, distantly, of his ade - the ikaade being safely carted about on repurposed gurneys - following, Maul'ika and Bo'ika stabbing and shredding and ripping apart the security droids that attempted to stand in their way, but his focus was on Jango.

And when he reached his Dral'cabur, he froze and sucked in a sharp, shocked breath.

Jango was hooked up to half a dozen machines, his eyes open and eyes staring blankly at the whiter than white ceiling above him, his pupils dilated so wide that the warm brown of his irises was nowhere to be seen.

Naas'tratyc.

A zone-out, in the Basic-language literature Obi-Wan had helped find for the Temple Archives over the years since he first became active as a Guide.

These beings had treated his Dral'cabur so poorly that Jango had become lost in his senses. Sight, most likely, if his eyes were any indication, but Obi-Wan had the sinking feeling that his Dral'cabur was in danger of slipping away entirely.

"Keep the ikaade entertained," he ordered his older children, who all nodded. Bo-Katan took up a guard position by the door, blaster in one hand and knife in the other, while Savage and Feral and Anakin took up the task of keeping the tiny clones' attention away from Obi-Wan and Jango. Maul stepped up beside Obi-Wan.

"Is there any way I can help?" he asked softly, and Obi-Wan shook his head.

"No, Maul'ika, but thank you for offering," he murmured. "Contact your ba'buir'e, please. Tell them we found your Jan'buir."

"'lek, O'buir," Maul replied softly, and stepped away to do just that.

Obi-Wan leaned over his Dral'cabur, making sure he was in his partner's line of sight, and then cupped his cheek with one hand and brushed his thumb across Jango's slightly parted lips. At the same time, he reached deep into their bond, seeking out his Dral'cabur.

"Come back, ner cyare," he whispered. He did his best to saturate Jango's senses with his presence - a Guide should be able to draw their Dral'cabur from naas'tratyc, but Obi-Wan had never needed to do it before. "You are safe. I am here. I have ade for you to meet, and we have been searching for you since we learned of your disappearance. Come back to me."

And Jango blinked, even as he became more present in their bond once more, and Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief. It was working.

The first thing Jango noticed was the voice of his jetii, murmuring encouragement and coaxing him out of the painful spiral he'd been stuck in for the past however-long-it-had-been.

Then came the scent, familiar but slightly changed, overlaid with unfamiliar but unthreatening scents - with just a hint of familiarity, as Jango's hindbrain identified one of the scents as ner ad - right under his nose.

And then he blinked, and his jetii's face came into view, so familiar and yet changed by however much time had passed since he had last seen him.

"Ner jetii," Jango rasped, throat dry, and Obi-Wan's face crumpled into a relieved smile as tears welled up in his eyes.

"Ner Dral'cabur," he whispered back. "I found you. I have you. We're getting you out of here."

"What happened?" Jango wanted to know, and Obi-Wan shook his head.

"Not here. I don't want to remain here any longer that we absolutely have to. We can discuss everything on the ship. Maul'ika, Sav'ika, some help with your Jan'buir please?" Obi-Wan called, turning his head, and Jango blinked rapidly as he tried to parse that.

"What?" he managed. A familiar laugh, slightly distorted by a buy'ce's vocoder, had him turning his head to see a verd'ika with the aliik of Clan Kryze on one pauldron and the familiar Haat'ade mythosaur skull on the other.

"You've missed a lot, Jan'buir," the verd'ika teased, and Jango finally placed the voice.

"Bo'ika?" he asked, surprised, as two young Dathomirian Zabraks - both with black markings, one with red skin and the other with yellow-orange - came into the room and helped Obi-Wan detach Jango from the various machines that he was hooked up to. "What did I miss?" he asked, glimpsing two more ade - a human-or-near and another Dathomirian Zabrak, this one more yellow than the others - playing with a handful of ikaade that looked eerily like Jango had done at their apparent age.

"Not here," Obi-Wan repeated firmly, and then he leaned down and pressed his forehead to Jango's in a tender mirshmure'cya. "You've been gone for over a year, ankai'a. There is much to tell. Please, wait until we and the ade are safe."

"...elek, ner jetii. I will wait."

Manda'yaim

When Jaster's comm unit shrilled at him with an incoming holocall from one of his bu'ade, his heart leapt into his throat. Last he'd heard from Obi-Wan and his five feral ade, they'd received a lead that had taken them into Wild Space just past the Rishi Maze. That had been less than a full day cycle ago.

"Maul'ika?" he asked worriedly as he answered and the young one appeared.

"Su'cuy, Ba'buir," Maul greeted, a faint smile on his face and a looseness to his posture that made Jaster relax a little. "We found him."

It took a moment for Jaster to process that.

"He's there? You found Jango?" he asked, feeling breathless, leaning forward as if he could look past his bu'ad to see his missing child.

"Elek! O'buir put all the demagolkase here to sleep so that they wouldn't interfere. We'll be taking off as soon as we're all back on the ship," Maul reported. he turned, glancing behind him. "I have to help O'buir get Jan'buir up, they had him hooked up to all sorts of medical equiment. Koyaci!"

The call ended before Jaster could ask any more questions, and he sighed as he set down his comm.

But then he smiled and gave a laugh of pure relief. Jango had been found, alive, and Obi-Wan was going to bring him and the ade home.

"Yan!" he called, leaping from his seat and hurrying from his home office to the karyai where he could sense his jetii meditating. "They found Jan'ika!"

Soon he would have all his aliit together again.

Somewhere in hyperspace

"...Obi-Wan," Jango said slowly, shifting his gaze from the two teenagers tussling in the cargo hold to the two more placid Zabraki boys helping soothe and entertain a dozen-and-change three year old clones of Jango himself. "I know the riduurok says 'we will raise warriors', but I had not expected twenty straight away."

"Jango, ner Dral'cabur, I am planning to assassinate the Chancellor of the Republic," Obi-Wan replied in such a light, easy tone that it took Jango a moment to realise what had actually been said. "I think our discussion on the optimal number of ade can wait until we are fleeing Coruscant."

Bo-Katan, the little brat, started cackling from where she was perched on top of a prone Maul's back as Jango spluttered incoherently.

Obi-Wan just smiled sweetly.

Coruscant: Jedi Temple

"Hello, Master Windu," one of the multiple pains in Mace's shebs said brightly, popping up right at his elbow. Mace scowled at the far-too-chipper expression on Quinlan Vos' face.

"What do you want, Vos?" he growled. He had yet to have his morning caff, and his temper was worse for it.

"Oh, I just wanted to share with you the message Obes just sent me," the Kiffar said glibly, and pulled out a pad to play the holo-recording.

Mace's temples throbbed as a pending Shatterpoint teetered on the brink.

"Hey Quin, pass this short message on to the Council please," said the recording of Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, whose Protector, or Dral'cabur, was draped over his back like a particularly sentient cloak.

(Mace would never admit how relieved he was that Jango Fett had been found.)

"I have found my Dral'cabur, and I am now hunting the Sith who stole him and cloned him without his or my consent. You will undoubtedly hear all about it in just a short while. Oya!"

Mace gritted his teeth and rubbed his fingers hard against his temples as they throbbed with pain once more.

"Vos," he gritted out, "get out of my sight, and take the menace's message with you."

"Yes, Master Windu, right away!" Quinlan singsonged, and Mace buried his face in his hands and groaned as he was left alone once more.

What the Sith Hells was Kenobi up to this time?

Coruscant: Senate Building

The Senate Guard were not paid enough to get in the way of a couple of fully-armoured Mandalorians, a serenely-smiling Jedi Knight, and a collection of clearly half-wild children of varying ages, when a small group containing just that arrangement of individuals entered the Senate building and started to prowl towards the Dome, where a session was in full swing.

The Guard looked at the incoming group, glanced at each other, and then immediately, as one, decided "not my zoo, not my Kowakian monkey-lizards."

Obi-Wan Kenobi, furious Guide and fully-trained Jedi Knight, just smiled sharply and swept past the individuals now wisely standing aside for him and his aliit to pass them.

(The ikaade had been left to the gentle, thorough care of Vokara Che and Bant Eerin, protected by a determined yet thrilled Shmi Skywalker and Qui-Gon Jinn. Both Shmi and Qui-Gon were thrilled to have yet more children/grandchildren to spoil.)

"Bo'ika, would you be a dear and open the doors for me?" Obi-Wan asked as they approached the doors closest to the Chancellor's pod within the Senate Dome, and Bo-Katan grinned wildly behind her buy'ce as she pulled a grenade from her belt.

"Don't mind if I do, O'buir!" she said cheerfully, and then pulled the pin and lobbed the grenade.

The resulting explosion caused enough dust and debris to hide their entrance, Feral and Savage and Anakin hanging back so as to keep out of the way as Jango - fully armoured once more in his beskar'gam, which had been gathering dust in a storeroom on Kamino - and Obi-Wan leapt forwards. Maul and Bo-Katan were right behind their buir'e, but Obi-Wan's focus was upon the Chancellor.

The Chancellor, who had dodged Jango's blaster shot with a speed that should not be possible for a Nabooian human of Sheev Palpatine's age, before the dust had truly settled. There were gasps and shouts of outrage and shock and fear, but Obi-Wan's focus was on Sheev Palpatine. For all that he was putting up a very good physical front of surprise and fear, Obi-Wan could sense his fury and outrage when he spied Jango.

"Sheev Palpatine," Obi-Wan said, voice projecting through the Senate Dome, "You have committed crimes against the Mandalorian ruling family, sentient younglings, and the people of Naboo."

"What is the meaning of this?" the Chancellor blustered, and Obi-Wan tilted his head slightly.

"I do believe I just outlined that," he said calmly, still projecting. His Dral'cabur remained at his side, their ade behind them where Palpatine would not have a clear shot at them. "Chancellor Palpatine, you arranged for the non-consensual cloning of the current Mandalorian leader's child, and set the Trade Federation upon the Naboo, your own people, to distract the galaxy from your decisions. This is not a question, Chancellor, but a statement."

He gestured with one hand, behind his back so only his ade could see, and a second later every single Senator, aide, and representative had their pad or comm unit sound an alert.

"The proof has been sent to every single Senator, representative, and aide, along with every major holonews corporation, the Council of Mandalore, and the Jedi High Council."

Even without taking his eyes off Palpatine, who looked increasingly angry the longer Obi-Wan spoke, Obi-Wan could see that nearly every Senator and representative had opened their comm or pad to look at what An'ika had just sent to the Senate en masse. There were gasps, murmurs, growing outrage, and Obi-Wan allowed himself to smirk.

That, it seemed, was enough to enrage the Chancellor to the point of apoplexy, for his face reddened, his eyes turned sickly yellow, and Obi-Wan felt the Dark Side of the Force grow thick and dense around the Nabooian.

Jango shot at him again, and this time the bolt wasn't dodged but deflected with a red lightsaber whose kyber was screaming into the Force.

The battle that followed was fast and yet the most exhausting Obi-Wan had faced in his twenty-four years. It was clear that he was facing a Master of the Dark Side, and one who had spent a great deal of time on mastering 'saber combat.

But he had clearly never considered what might be different about facing a Mando'ad and Jedi working together, rather than just one or the other, and he had clearly never faced a Dral'cabur in full protective drive who was also bonded to their Guide.

Even after Force-knows how long spent in naas'tratyc, Jango was a formidable fighter who was remarkably skilled at fighting Force Sensitive opponents. And the synchronicity that came so naturally to the bonded pair meant that Palpatine was consistently on the back foot. Especially with Feral and Bo-Katan taking potshots at him with alternating projectile weapons and standard blaster pistols, and Savage utilising the Force to throw small objects into Palpatine's line of sight, and the occasional swipe of a golden-orange lightstaff at his knees or ankles by Maul.

And in the end, it took only a single slip on Palpatine's part for the battle to be over. He attempted to block another shot from Bo-Katan with his 'saber, showering himself with molten metal when it proved to be a slug instead of a standard blaster bolt, and as he reeled with a cry of pain and surprise, Obi-Wan lunged forwards and - with a single, graceful swing - severed the Darksider's head from his shoulders.

The Force sang with satisfaction and righteousness.

⋆⭒˚.⋆.˚⭒⋆

The Dral'cabur'e, titled simply 'Protectors' or 'Sentinels' in Basic, are a vital part of the Mando-Jedi Reconciliation. These individuals are always Mandalorians (whether by race or by creed) whom awaken the ability to enhance their senses - sight, hearing, taste, touch, and scent - and rely heavily upon their beskar'gam, their armour, to help regulate their senses, and who have a powerful, almost primal need to protect and defend their homes and families.

The Je'daii, 'Guide' or simply 'Jedi' in Basic, are the other side of this scale. All Je'daii in recent decades have been Jedi, but not all Jedi have the ability to awaken as Je'daii. For centuries, it has been near impossible to tell apart the Je'daii from the Jedi, but recent strides towards Mando-Jedi Reconciliation has brought forth knowledge long lost to the galaxy.

For every Dral'cabur, there is a perfectly matching Je'daii who helps the Dral'cabur to maintain their equilibrium and hone or focus their enhanced senses without the aid of technology. And, in turn, the Dral'cabur acts as a shield against the rest of the galaxy for the empathic burden that comes to all Je'daii when they awaken.

There is still much unknown, but with the resurgence of Je'daii and Dral'cabur'e in the galaxy following the death of the Banite Sith, it is only a matter of time until more is discovered.

⋆⭒˚. End .˚⭒⋆