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Chapter Text

Jaster had hesitated for a moment when the kid had arrived with the slaves rescued from the Hutts' Offworld Mining Corporation on Bandomeer. A Jedi? What would a Jedi child be doing in there?

He had looked at the images and looked at them again and again until he accepted that it was true, he was a Jedi child. Nothing but a Jedi could throw one of his Commandos against a wall without even touching them. The way he held his hand out as he did so was also characteristic.

Just like you, he thought, another Jedi in mind.

On this occasion, he had been the one who had suffered the brunt of it. It's a weird feeling when gravity seems to get out of hand. Being seen as a threat by a wounded and frightened Jedi was not good for anyone.

He had nothing against them though, the history of their respective peoples was one thing, they were another one. Jaster and his Mandos and Feemor and his Order were their own people. They were not the past but the present and the future.

Not that he had not been criticised at the time for taking him in and providing him with shelter, food and care among his own people as well as help to return to civilisation. He had been. A lot.

In fact, he had wondered if Montross had made sure that the Jedi knew that he did not like his presence when Feemor had told him to watch out for him when they said their goodbyes. He had been amused. He had not been amused for long.

Call him paranoid or fanatical but Jaster was a religious man, he was a believer, he believed in the soul. Some things might be ritualistic and folklore but he was convinced of the existence of the soul. The fact that the Jedi, also a very religious person with powers beyond his comprehension, had said of Montross that he gave off bad vibes... that had left its mark on him.

And then one day, just to be sure and move on, he had asked a few people he trusted who were not close to Montross to investigate him.

The result had been more than disappointing, and unfortunately, because of what his instincts told him – which unfortunately believed in the Jedi's different view of the world and people – not surprising. They dealt with the traitor and that was that. He had not thought about him in years.

Maybe he had thought vaguely about the blond man when he became Mand'alor and saw Jedi emissaries attending the revels and ceremonies with anyone interested in coming to see and socialise with the new power in place, but he had his life, Feemor had his.

He had his number but he had never called. Neither had Feemor.

That had nothing to do with his current "Jedi Problem" though.

The boy... he was such a mess. Emaciated, reserved and scared of everything. Weak and sick and distrustful. They could not just bring him back like that and turn up at the gates of the Temple of Coruscant with him in tow, that would not be wise.

Jango had nearly fought to the death against Jedi literally three weeks before, he could not risk another misunderstanding and the Jedi would be suspicious of them and their intentions. What if they thought they had something to do with his previous situation? What if they accused him of kidnapping him?

It was far too risky.

They could not keep this kid though, ever since he had been rescued and treated he had refused contact from anyone and was only calm when interacting with droids, he was going to wither away if nothing was done.

How could they ensure that they had time to talk to the Jedi long enough to explain the situation without causing a diplomatic incident? Jaster knew that if it was him and it was Jango, it did not matter that his son was twenty-two, he would shoot first and ask questions later. That is, if they were still alive enough to talk. He would need someone who was openminded and understood that they were not the enemy.

A friendly Jedi, so to speak.

OK, so it looks like that com number he had never suppressed was going to come in handy after all.

Please, may he still be alive and able to come.

Jaster - I don't know if you remember me, I'm a Mandalorian, we met about ten years ago.

He did not know if he would remember his name, he had not just spoken to him at the time, perhaps he had other Mandalorians in his contacts.

Feemor (Jedi) - I remember you, Jaster. How have you been?

Jaster - Fine, I need your help though, do you think you can come?

Feemor (Jedi) - So mysterious... where are you now?

He laughed at this, clearly the guy was not into the politics of their Sector. That said, the Outer Rim was of little interest to the Core.

Jaster - Mandalore (Planet).

Feemor (Jedi) - Let me check.

Feemor (Jedi) - I'm not really around at the moment and I'm finishing up a mission. How urgent is it?

Jaster - It's not really urgent, but it's quite important.

The answer took several minutes to come, making Jaster realise that the other man must have been seriously rethinking his schedule.

Feemor (Jedi) - Let's say in nine days?

Jaster thought about it. The kid had probably disappeared a while ago, so a few more days would not make any difference at this point. Maybe they would even get him to talk a bit by then.

Jaster - That's fine by me.

Jaster - I'll send you the coordinates where to land and an access code.

Feemor (Jedi) - Much appreciated, thank you.

There, problem solved. He was pretty proud of himself if he had to be honest. A Jedi was going to reassure the kid and be the intermediary between his traumatised little being and his mystical Order shrouded in mystery.

"Buir, why are you laughing alone in the living room, staring at the wall?"

"Someone trustworthy and neutral is coming to pick up the ad. How's Silas?"

"He's doing well!" Jango replied with a relaxed smile as he headed for his room. "The baar'ure say he's fine, we were quick enough that nothing happened to him."

Good. Jango had attacked the mine where they had found the Jedi after Silas had been kidnapped on a reconnaissance mission to uncover a criminal organisation trying to gain a foothold in the Mandalorian system. The Hutts running the Offworld Mining Corporation would not make a fuss so as not to alienate Jaster and his warlike, determined and extremely stubborn population and they must have been as tired by the whole mess as they were.

"What are you doing?" He asked when seeing him dressed more classily than usual under his armour.

"I'm going out."

"Alone? Where exactly?"

"Buir, I'm not a child anymore!"

"I have no desire to find you with an explosive collar around your neck because you're going to the wrong place or with the wrong people."

"He's an Aruetii bounty hunter I've known for a while, he's nice and since he was in the area we're going for a drink, that's all."

That's all. Which meant that was not all. He would not try to convince him that it was all there were to it if it really was all there was to it.

"And can I have the name, most recent address and full description of this person?"

His son smiled mischievously at him from the doorway.

"Hmm... let me think about it. No!"

"Jan'ika-"

"Bye Buir, good night Buir!"

He had never met anyone his son was really interested in. None. In fact, considering his reaction when he subtly tried to ask about his interest in marrying a Mando girl to have lots of Mando babies, he suspected his son might be gay or even just completely disinterested in relationships and tried to show support, but with no certainties about what he needed to support to reassure him that his love was unconditional... well, it was as complicated as one could imagine.

Let him enjoy himself, though.

A bit of recklessness before the responsibilities start piling up would do him no harm.

He checked the text exchange he had just had and could not help smiling as he noticed that even after all this time he was considered an ally who was not once questioned or even interrogated. Damn, he had not even told him why he wanted him to come. It spoke volumes about his sense of loyalty.

To be quite honest, Jaster was excited to see him again. He could not wait for him to be there. Such a shame he could not make him stay.

Chapter Text

The message had come as a surprise to Feemor, mainly because there was no name associated with it.

Inconnu - I don't know if you remember me, I'm a Mandalorian, we met about ten years ago.

Ten years ago? That was a long time, and without meaning to brag about it… Feemor had met more Mandalorians than the average. Which one were they, and why did he have their number?

The Jedi Knight then calmed down, rationalised the situation and retrieved his datapad to check something.

His com had recently been destroyed, the sad tale of a bar brawl that had resulted in an Anx stepping on his bag. An Anx being an Anx, anything in his bag unfortunate enough to have been in the path of his foot had been crushed beyond repair.

That was it, he realised as he checked the copy of his address book on his datapad and the numbers in his com. He had not realised that the Temple had not given him the old numbers but only the numbers he needed at the time. Which, yeah, made sense considering they did not have a record of his life at all times and copies of his personal stuff, the idea alone was bizarre, but absolutely impractical for this kind of case.

That said, this was the first com he had destroyed in over thirty years, so he had no way of knowing that beforehand.

The Jedi dialled the number and something came up.

Jaster MEREEL (Clan), Mandalorian (‘True Mandalorian / Commando’)

"Jaster," he murmured aloud, "Jaster... oh yes, Jaster!"

He remembered him, a nice Mandalorian mercenary leader. Yeah, the sentence was strange. But no less true nonetheless.

Especially considering that he had not been at his best for their meeting. Had not he nearly killed him? In any case, he had had the upper hand, Jaster was not used to fighting a Jedi while Feemor unfortunately had some experience of people shooting at him.

It was a rather deserted planet that perhaps did not even really have an official name if he remembered correctly. He had been investigating a child disappearance and had traced it back to large-scale human trafficking to run mines that required small workers. Of course, the Hutts were not the only ones to use slaves as workers in the mines but the Offworld Mining Corporation was really a special case, even for their usual standard. He had been captured but not killed, they had not dare harm him too much until they knew he had reinforcements nearby and he had managed to use a tiny window to escape. He had literally spent days wandering around in the wild until he finally came across some people. He would have died of dehydration had it not been for Jaster and his men.

What a pleasure to hear from him, he had never dared call him again because the man had his own life and did not deserve to be bothered by someone like him who had already been a major inconvenience throughout their first meeting, but he was delighted to know that he was still alive and doing well.

Feemor - I remember you, Jaster. How have you been?

Jaster - Fine, I need your help though, do you think you can come?

For a man who had saved him, Feemor would be delighted to offer his services for free. He was indebted to him, even though the other man had clearly said he was not at the time. As far as Feemor was concerned, he did owe him a debt and this was his chance to settle it and put the record straight.

Feemor - So mysterious... where are you now?

Jaster - Mandalore (Planet).

Strangely enough, Feemor was surprised by this, he thought they were mercenaries always on the move... but then again, even travellers had the right to return home to their ancestral homeland from time to time. Mandalore, Mandalore... where was that again? He could not remember.

Feemor - Let me check.

It was not exactly far according to his datapad, but it was not next door either, and the negotiations in which the Order had commissioned Feemor to respond to the request for mediation from clients seeking an impartial opinion were not exactly over.

Feemor - I'm not really around at the moment and I'm finishing up a mission. How urgent is it?

Jaster - It's not really urgent, but it's quite important.

So he could finish this mediation calmly and without rushing – rushing into negotiations was usually the first step towards disaster – and think about what had happened, what remained to be discussed and how long he thought it might take. He was not entirely sure, it had not been that long since he had started taking on this sort of mission on his own. Hmm...

Feemor - Let's say in nine days?

Jaster - That's fine by me.

Jaster - I'll send you the coordinates where to land and an access code.

Feemor - Much appreciated, thank you.

Feemor did not expect to see Jaster again one day, his life consisted of going from mission to mission with the Temple and the Order as his only ties, he did not really have any friends outside this background, none that were close to him in any case. He was glad to have the chance to see him again, though, and was looking forward to it. It was not until he was meditating before going to sleep that he swore out loud.

"Damn!"

He'd forgotten to ask what it was about. It probably did not matter that much. He would find out soon enough.

Anyway, it was not as if it was going to be something so serious that it would change his life, there was nothing to worry about.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan stared at the man who approached the bench where he had taken refuge. He had finally made it outside after a panic attack in his room. It looked like he would not do well for a while trapped within four walls.

How surprising

He had been surprised to actually be allowed outside, but he could assume that even though he was a Jedi, he did not scare them. And that was, after all, an understandable attitude on their part. He was unarmed, weakened and terrified, he would be killed in less than a minute by any of their warriors.

It was worth noting that this certainty did nothing to help him sleep at night.

The man was in his early twenties and smiling, but the young Jedi would not be fooled by a deceptive false friendliness designed to lull him into a dangerous sense of security. They had separated him from the other slaves because they knew he was different and Obi-Wan knew that being different was not to his advantage here. They wanted something from him and he did not want to do or say anything until he knew what it was.

It was the only protection he had left at this point. He was useful to them in one way or another and had to find out what they wanted before they got rid of him... again, in one way or another.

Obi-Wan did not believe in a final death. When he died, he would return to the Force. As a result, there were fates he feared far more than death.

And, at every instant he was left alone, his mind was constantly competing with ingenuity to find new ones.

Perhaps some interaction with a real person this time would do him good, he needed to be distracted from his macabre suppositions.

"Hi kid."

... or maybe not.

He was thirteen, seriously, what thirteen-year-old boy wanted to be called "kid"?

The man laughed softly, sitting down next to him.

"Yeah, sorry, you must be about the right age to have a Beskar'gam."

Considering Obi-Wan did not know what it was, he could not exactly say no. Also, if he were old enough to travel the Republic and beyond armed with the Force and a lightsaber, he supposed he was old enough for just about anything. It did not seem to him that he had much innocence left to save anyway.

"Not very talkative, hmm?"

The man simply smiled as he gave him a dirty look. With a black eye, a swollen face and split lips, Obi-Wan was not exactly reassured by him smiling. Quite the opposite, in fact.

People who smiled when they should not were often dangerous or mad as hatters, sometimes both.

"I'm going to show you something, but don't tell anyone, OK?"

Beyond worrying that he would unzip his trousers because that kind of line was pretty scary when you were a troubled young teenager isolated with an unknown adult with no neutral witnesses around, Obi-Wan did not understand why he was bothering to tell him this considering that the man clearly knew who he was and was therefore aware of things concerning him: he literally had not spoken to anyone since he' had arrived here, he had not said a word, at any time.

Whatever he said or did, Obi-Wan had no intention of repeating it.

He was surrounded by suspicious people anyway.

The man raised his hands and Obi-Wan watched warily as he reached around his neck and pulled down the collar of his black top, revealing damaged and raw skin with patterns Obi-Wan recognised immediately. He saw the same ones every day in the mirror.

"You..."

The words fell silent before they were even spoken, but Obi-Wan knew he had been understood.

"Yes, I was there too. We know that you have abilities that are greater than any of us, and perhaps stronger than what you can control yourself, but you have to understand that they didn't come for you, they came to save me."

As luck would have it... it's as if the Force had wanted it to happen, but that would not make any sense. He was born to be a Jedi. He was sure of it.

"My name is Silas."

"Obi-Wan," he replied, shaking the outstretched hand.

It was impossible to find someone with just that, especially a child who had lived on the fringes of the world in a Temple that protected its own people. And anyway, he had no bound with his biological family. No connection at all.

"You know, if you told us who you were, we could at least try to find your family."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. His family... what family? The blood family that had abandoned him forever before he was even three, or the Temple that had done the same after ten years?

He knew he should not think like that and be so bitter about it, but he could not help it. He was angry, hurt and just felt so terribly wronged.

He had not done anything to deserve this. Granted, he had never been the brightest student or the most disciplined but… he still wanted to be a Jedi too.

"Family? I've no use for that, I've nowhere to go back to."

"You mean you're an orphan?"

"In a way, yes."

"So you're available for adoption?"

"I wouldn't say that either," he muttered cautiously, moving a little further away from him.

Err... no. All he needed was for them to secure some form of authority over him by having him falsely adopted by one of their own. That was one of his main worries at the moment, that they wanted to take advantage of him or his powers in some way. Or maybe they wanted to harm the Order through him.

Who knows, he did not know anything about Mandalorians apart from the fact that they were extremely dangerous and to be wary of.

Silas tried to keep the conversation flowing for a while but Obi-Wan just stopped answering until he stood up.

He thought he had worn him down.

It would seem he was more stubborn than he had expected him to be.

"My friend Jango and his father Jaster wanted to invite you to lunch with us, would you like to come?"

He did not have much choice, did he? Obi-Wan had heard Jaster Mereel's name several times, he knew he was someone important. If he wanted to meet Obi-Wan, the safest thing for his immediate future was to say yes.

The redhead nodded and followed him in silence, bowed in silence to the two men waiting at the table and ate in silence.

"It'll be over soon, ad'ika." Mr Mereel said to him as he left the table.

"Hmm?"

"Someone's coming to get you in a fortnight' time."

Which meant that he had to escape from here by any means necessary by then.

He had ten days, that would be enough.

It had to be enough.

Chapter Text

With no real time to look after a child, Jaster made sure he kept an eye on his charge. He did not want Feemor to arrive and be unable to inform him of anything. It was also a matter of honour for him to take care of a foundling who belonged to a friend.

He came up against a tiny problem though. So tiny. Nothing too serious.

They were not having any conversations. At all. Never.

It was problematic.

Despite his insistence on always being there in the evening to eat with the young man who had introduced himself to Silas as "Obi-Wan", although after seeing how careful he was he would not be surprised if it was a false name, the boy refused to engage in any kind of discussion with him. He did not understand, the redhead was talking to other warriors, he was asking questions about the palace and its protection – understandable concerns for a recently kidnapped child – and he was even following Silas on patrol so he would not be isolated all the time but when he was with Jaster it was silence all over again.

He had tried a bit of everything. Ask about his health? "The doctors say I'll be fine." His morale? "I'm fine." His needs? "I don't need anything."

Exhausting.

It was tiring going round in circles and not getting nowhere, but Jaster prioritised the young man's needs over his own curiosity and accepted his short answers without ever insisting. Perhaps he would be more open when Feemor was here. Or maybe even then it would take time. They had to be patient with him.

He was not used to being patient with people but every time his temper threatened to flare he saw the red marks on his neck and all his annoyance evaporated.

Jaster had thought that everything was fine and that everything would be fine from then on, especially when nothing had happened in the twelve days since their offensive to get Silas back. Everyone had expected a sneak attack rather than a direct one, so they had – relatively speaking, of course – relaxed their vigilance.

Then the Jedi kid tried to run away and was shot by his men during the attempt. When they realised who it was, they stopped, but the child had taken the opportunity to retaliate with his magic, so they had tried to neutralise him peacefully, which, it had to be said, was not their speciality. Obi-Wan had ended up stunned and had fallen from the roof of a building straight into the arms of a Besalisk who was watching the fighting from a distance.

It should be noted that he had almost been shot too, as nobody wanted the child under Jaster's protection to be abducted by a stranger. This had also been narrowly avoided. Because Jango had interfered.

That was worth repeating and emphasising. Jango, his son, had come between his comrades and an aruetii. This Dexter Jettster now had his full attention as a curious father.

Particularly since he and this "friend" were returning from a bar at the time, that the Besalisk had been following things from the street even after Jango had taken off in his jetpack and rescued the baby Jedi his own Jedi friend was coming to collect.

That is, if said stupid child did not break his neck first. Manda, children were so complicated sometimes.

"What was that, ad'ika?"

Obi-Wan did not look at him, pouting, curled up on his bed. They had removed everything from the room that could be dangerous if used creatively. In other words, almost everything.

"You could have died, what were you trying to achieve?"

A shrug.

"You're leaving in two days at the most, we've done everything to make sure you're comfortable here, why do something so risky?"

"Two days?"

"Yes, two days, are you really so impatient that you can't wait two days before going home?"

"You don't know where my home is."

"You're a Jedi, any Jedi will successfully help you get where you need to go... what?" He asked as he saw him looking at him in confusion. "Did you think we didn't know? You're a Jedi child, it's obvious to anyone who's ever met one. I told you someone was coming for you, what did you think I was saying?"

"Slavers would give a lot for trained Jedi children."

He thought they were gonna sell him.

Damn.

"That's a Jedi who's coming for you," he finally says, surprised that this finally provoked a reaction.

"Master Jinn?" The redhead asked with such hope in his eyes that Jaster felt sick.

Jinn? No, he distinctly remembered that Feemor had no other name or Clan at the time.

"No, not Jinn, Feemor. I met him years ago, an honourable man," he said gently.

But the child was sad again and Jaster failed to comfort him, no matter how much he pretended to be fine and smiled bravely to reassure him. He had hoped for this Jinn. He was sad and hurt.

"No more wild surprises."

"I promise."

This awkward status quo continued until he was hailed as he went to eat in town with some friends and family, intercepted by one of his verde.

"Alor-"

She did not have time to say a word when the man behind her greeted him with a familiarity that made him feel as if not a day had passed since the last time he saw him.

"Jaster, nice to see you again."

"The pleasure is mine, Feemor," he replied quickly, seeing the indignation of his people at the familiarity of the blond man who was a stranger in their eyes, hoping to clear up the misunderstanding by subtly showing that they knew each other and that formality was not expected of him. "How is life so far as a Jedi?"

"As well as could be expected," the blond man replied with a smile that Jaster found slightly insincere without being able to explain why.

Were things not going well for him? Did he need help? He would try to offer his assistance subtly.

After all, there were few problems that flamethrowers and grenades could not solve.

"Come on, it's this way. He'll be delighted to see you, even if he doesn't know you personally."

"Who exactly are you talking about?"

Jaster waited until they had arrived and pointed to the solitary figure in the middle of the garden, watching with great curiosity, interest and intrigue as the Jedi leaned over the balustrade of the balcony where he had brought them, as if to get a better look.

"He doesn't have a braid in his hair, does he?"

"He doesn't."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

Jaster thought about it for a moment before confirming.

"I'm sure, no braid. Does a Master Jinn mean anything to you? It was the only name he said."

"Qui-Gon Jinn?"

So he knew them.

"All he said was Jinn. Do you know them?"

"Hmm... we'll see. Can I go talk to him?"

"You may. We rescued him from a mine amongst other slaves, it'll do him good to talk to one of his own."

A hand rested briefly on his shoulder.

"Thank you for everything."

He nodded, watching from a distance as they met before letting them speak in private.

He had done his part, the rest was out of his hands.

Chapter Text

Feemor had kept the "Jinn" aspect in the back of his mind as he approached the isolated child who straightened at his approach before he could see or hear him. He turned towards him, probably sensing the special energy of a Jedi in the Force, and jumpt to his feet, disbelief all over his face as he looked him up and down several times.

"Hello, I'm Feemor."

"I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi, Master," the Initiate replied politely as he bowed deeply, looking intimidated.

Seeing the redhead so small and young and so wounded, Feemor could not help hoping even harder that, against all odds, it was not his Master Jinn. Things were pretty tense at the moment, adding a kid to the situation would be catastrophic.

With Xanatos having almost revealed himself a month earlier, Qui-Gon and Feemor were both on high alert while the Fallen Padawan had disappeared again. Qui-Gon had tried to investigate but he was not a specialist and the Order had been too slow to send someone competent. It was too late, Xanatos was free and they now knew they were not safe. If a child unexpectedly entered Qui-Gon's inner circle, he would immediately become a target.

Xanatos would not hesitate to hurt innocent people, they could not involve this poor boy even inadvertently.

"May I call you Obi-Wan?"

"Of course."

"Thank you. How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"I'm sorry but my friend Jaster didn't really give me any details. Could you explain what happened to you?"

"You... really are friends?" Obi-Wan asked, looking over to where he had left Jaster to approach, looking as if he could not believe it.

Was this how Jaster had described him to the boy? Feemor hid his hands in his sleeves, pleasantly surprised and flattered. The words had just come out, but they were no less true for him.

"We're not close but I consider him a friend, he's an honourable man, he practically saved my life ten years ago. Did he tell you the story?"

A negative head movement made him look back but the Mandalorian's silhouette had disappeared, he had left them alone. So thoughtful. Just like back then.

"Shame, I was so dehydrated on the first day that I don't remember much. You didn't believe him, did you?"

He sheepishly looked away, and Feemor silently offered him to walk with him.

"You've done nothing wrong, it's reasonable to be wary of strangers, especially when you're defenceless. Were they nice with you? I know they can be a bit scary."

Well, it was not actually that they were scary per se as much as they made people uncomfortable because of all their cultural differences which made them abrasive and threatening for no reason but he did not need to detail it if Obi-Wan had been there for more than ten days: he already knew that.

"They were... Yes, very nice. Will you tell them I'm sorry I didn't believe them and tried to run away? I didn't apologise for that."

Feemor raised a curious eyebrow at that.

"You tried to run away? And you're still alive?"

The boy's face flushed.

"They knocked me out anyway," he muttered.

"Hey, be glad you're not dead, they're pretty well trained."

Some of the best you'll find in their field, in fact.

"He told me about a mine...?" He tried again to bring the conversation back to where he wanted it, hoping to get some information without rushing him.

As expected, just talking about it unsettled the boy, his presence changing instantly in the Force to become darker and sharper. He probably had not yet seen a mental healer or meditated to detach himself from the trauma. Nothing unexpected at this point.

"I don't really know what to say, I was captured and then I was in the mines."

"Where were you taken, Coruscant?"

Were there any security breaches at the Temple? But if there were, why would they send the boy to a mine? A Jedi child would have more market value elsewhere.

"No, Bandomeer."

"Can you tell me why an Initiate would travel alone to Bandomeer?"

Somehow, Feemor sensed perfectly that this question was even more painful to him than the one about the mine. The feeling of distress, despair and misery that came over the young man was deep and brutal. All-consuming.

"I've... I was sent to the Agricorps."

And clearly not of his own choosing. Which meant that no one had offered him the chance to be their Padawan. Touchy subject.

"Alone?" He insisted gently, finding it strange.

"Yes, well, I met Master Jinn on the way, I hoped he might agree to take me on as a Padawan because he didn't know me, but he refused."

As he should have. He was not ready and the failure of Xanatos was not to be repeated.

"Does Qui-Gon Jinn know that you've disappeared?"

"I'm not really sure," the child replied, unaware that by not reacting to the name Qui-Gon he had just identified Master Jinn with certainty as Feemor's former teacher and mentor. "That's why I thought it was him who was coming when Mr Mereel told me a Jedi was on the way."

What have you done, Qui-Gon?

"I see. Well, we'll take the time to clarify a few details, but in the meantime you're going to return with me to Coruscant, where it's best to have experienced Healers examine you and check that nothing has happened to you without your knowledge. I arrived by civilian transport without knowing why Jaster was bringing me here, so I hadn't planned the return journey, I'm going to take care of finding a hotel and getting us back. Did the Mandalorian doctors tell you to be careful about your condition?"

"No, I can travel."

Feemor nodded, smiling slightly at the boy before smiling more frankly as he saw that it relaxed him.

"Let’s go together, you can come with me while I take care of those things."

He could feel his need for attention and company by the way he immaterially clung to him even though he did not seem to be doing it consciously. Children. Naturals.

They walked around the city and first booked a ride to the Middle Rim and then to Coruscant from there and then looked for a hotel for him to get a room for the night. He had not even reached the reception of the place he had chosen when he received a message.

Jaster - You know that you're my guest and that my guests don't sleep in hotels, don't you?

Feemor watched this with an unimpressed look on his face, showing the message to Obi-Wan who understood immediately, looking around warily.

Feemor - Are you watching me?

Jaster - Of course not.

Jaster - One of my Commandos is.

Jaster - For your own safety, I think it's important to say, I didn't mean to cause any offence.

Hmm... he doubted it. He was not questioning his word on the safety aspect, and Jaster had no reason to doubt him, especially as he had brought him here himself, but to the extent that his warrior informed him that he was entering a hotel? They must have been terrible gossipers, even if he would probably deny it.

Feemor - What if I choose the hotel?

Jaster - You'd be insulting my hospitality.

Jaster - But I wouldn't stop you.

He shook his head at that. How ridiculous. Subtly but definitely there.

Feemor - I wouldn't want to refuse bed and board if you're offering it, I'm staying.

Jaster - We'll see you at dinner then, meet me in the garden where I left you.

Jaster - Bring the boy.

Feemor smiled at this, putting a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder to encourage him to head for the exit. Of course he was going to take him with him. He would not have it any other way.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan had remained as silent as possible as he followed Master Feemor into town. He had already humiliated himself by admitting that he had not believed his saviour that he was friends with a Jedi, and he did not want to add to that.

Following this man, even though he did not know him at all, was a constant relief. His energy and mind were as calm as water and offered a marvellous contrast to the Mandalorians around him, who were nothing but hotheads, always quick to react to everything as if they constantly had to do everything in their power. They exhausted him, Master Feemor soothed him. Obi-Wan had never realised before how much help he needed to feel serene and safe before this moment.

All his sharp edges, it was as if the patient, gentle blond man was rounding them off one after the other without even partially trying. As if it was obvious to him. In his nature.

"So... now that we know we're being followed..."

Obi-Wan looked up from the floor, attentive.

"Master?"

"What would you say if I suggested we disappear for a while?"

When Obi-Wan did not understand, the man pointed to the void above which they were standing and Obi-Wan leaned over the railing, still confused. What was there to see? The bridge was above buildings and the Initiate found it hard to understand where he wanted to disappear to here.

"A moment away from prying eyes seems necessary. Will you come with me?"

Obi-Wan nodded instinctively, fully trusting a Jedi Master even though he had not yet detailed his plan. A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he watched the man move towards him in a way that made him feel vaguely uncomfortable as hands came to rest on his waist, but he had no time to worry any further as he was lifted, moved with a deft motion over the back of the Jedi who jumped up and over the railing in an athletic movement.

Obi-Wan had never hugged anyone so tightly in his life, his arms and legs wrapped tightly around the Master who said nothing, landing nimbly on a roof before leaping into an alleyway to move quickly away.

Strangely enough, when they stopped and Master Feemor pulled him down, they were almost back to where they started.

"Classic tactics," was the answer to his silent questioning. "Since we've fled this place, it's the last place they'll check, and we're well covered here."

Obi-Wan trusted him on this, as he was not at all experienced in these matters, and instinctively lowered his eyes from the canvas that provided shade on the terrace of the café where they had taken refuge when warriors in jetpacks flew overhead at high speed.

He did not want to get shot again, the last time had been enough to last a lifetime, he had thought they were really going to kill him.

"Perfect, no one around."

"What's going on?"

Master Feemor turned to him and leaned over him slightly.

"Nobody's watching us here, and nobody can hear us. If they've said or done anything to you, now's the time to speak up."

Obi-Wan's eyes widened and he swallowed as he saw the Master's full attention focused on him. He... it was for him? He had done all this, getting away from the Mandalorians who were watching them, to check that Obi-Wan was really alright and not keeping quiet for fear of reprisals?

"I'm really fine, they've been nothing but nice, I swear."

"You admitted to trying to escape before I arrived."

Ahh... embarrassing.

"I thought they were going to give me to someone dodgy, the problem wasn't their attitude, it was that I didn't believe them when they told me they were benevolent."

"Are you sure? You're my priority, you don't have to be afraid, I'll believe you and protect you no matter what you tell me."

Don't cry, Obi-Wan, don't cry...

It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to him in his life. He had no doubt that most Jedi felt the same way about their children, but it was something everyone knew without saying it. Saying it was... well, it felt different, strangely.

"They scare me a bit and I didn't feel safe, but in the end it's all right, isn't it?"

Master Feemor smiled gently and nodded to confirm his words.

"You're right, everything's fine. What about taking a little time to collect our thoughts and relax before heading home, how does that sound?"

Obi-Wan nodded and closed his eyes as the Jedi did so, trying to find his own rhythm without being disturbed by the noise, the heat or the nervous feelings of the Mandalorian citizens around him who were going about their daily lives without pausing to give him time to breathe-

"Ignore them," Master Feemor said softly, "they're far away, focus on me."

Obi-Wan tried, he sincerely did, but at the end of the day he felt completely out of touch with this normal aspect of his life. He could not synchronise, it was as if he had forgotten everything, lost everything. He could not do it.

"Hmm... I think I'm about to fall asleep, we should probably leave."

Obi-Wan opened his eyes at this – did he really hear that?! – and watched in amazement as the Jedi Master stretched, drank his coffee in one gulp and stood up.

"Are you ready?"

Meditation was supposed to be serious business, Obi-Wan had only done it with Master Yoda and had never have imagined that someone could be a Jedi Master and be so relaxed about it.

"But the meditation..."

"There's plenty of time for that, don't you think?"

Obi-Wan was not going to say no to that, he was not in the right frame of mind at the moment.

"I'm with you!"

They were not stopped on their way to the palace where he was staying in the medical annex, but most of the faces and helmets turned towards them, everyone staring. For his part, Master Feemor walked serenely, subtly amused in the Force. He really felt at ease... maybe Obi-Wan should not worry so much.

On the other hand, in the last month, being defensive had more than once saved his life or enabled him to escape punishment.

They had barely entered the inner garden, which was the only place he went to on a regular basis, when Mr Mereel came striding up and stopped right in front of them, looking at Master Feemor with a frustrated expression.

"You left my men behind."

"Oh my," his guardian replied in a falsely apologetic tone, "I'm sorry, I didn't think they'd be so easily outrun by a little jump off a bridge."

Obi-Wan looked at Mr Mereel, worried about his reaction and wondering if such an outrageously blatant lie would get through, relieved to see the man hold back an amused smile as if this were some kind of joke between them and not a serious matter.

"Jetii osik," the man simply mumbled, shaking his head. "Never mind, come on, Jango's waiting for us."

"Jango... your son, isn't it? How is he?"

"He's my pride and joy."

"... and what else?"

"Yes, I know what you're going to say, he nearly fought to the death with some Jedi recently but it was an accident and all ended well."

"I wasn't aware of that," the blond man murmured to Obi-Wan with an amused expression before turning back to their host with an impeccable Sabacc face. "Yes, everything turn out all right."

Obi-Wan lowered his head to hide a smile and sat down at the table in front of Jango to eat, noticing that Feemor's cutlery had not been placed next to him but in front of Jaster. He wondered if this was normal. When Silas was here, he was next to Jango, not facing Jaster in a place of honour at the table.

Perhaps it was to mark the occasion because they had not seen each other for so long? In any case, now that he was not so wary, the meal was much more pleasant. He even spoke a little when he was asked questions.

He could imagine the family dinners of normal people like that.

It was... really nice.

Chapter Text

Jaster waited until Feemor was seated in the chair in front of him before asking. He had discreetly asked him to come back after putting Obi-Wan to bed. Better to talk about it when he was not here.

"So, how is the boy?"

"As well as can be expected."

So not great.

"I've tried to help him calm down a few times since earlier, but it's complicated."

"Were you able to find out anything more? He wasn't very talkative with us."

"Yes, he told me about it. He apologises for that."

Jaster brushed it off: it was not important.

"Can you talk about it?"

"He was captured on his way to Bandomeer."

"The mine where we found him was on Bandomeer."

Feemor's face tightened for a moment.

"Damn. I'd tell the Council to send him to another planet and to avoid it even for the next children."

"So he was sent there?"

"He was."

"By himself?"

"He was supposed to join the Service Corps located on the planet, it wasn't supposed to be a dangerous trip."

Jaster was discovering a lot of new words, he was not sure he quite understood.

"The Service Corps?"

"Since no one chose him as a Padawan, I guess the Council of Reassignment chose what was best for him."

Padawan, he knew this one. The descendants they taught everything to like a Mando with his ade. And he said he was not chosen?

"Why don't you take him yourself?"

Judging by the look of utter bewilderment on his face, far from his usual impassivity, Jaster seemed to have said a hell of a stupid thing.

"Me?"

"... Yeah?"

Adoption did not only come to ready men. Jaster had not wanted to be a father when he had met Jango. He took him on out of a sense of duty to his family. Love developed gradually.

"That's impossible."

"Why is that?" He asked, curious.

"It's... don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't want a Padawan, quite the opposite in fact."

Jaster said nothing, simply tilting his head, waiting for him to explain. If he had this desire to protect and train the next generation, what was holding him back? From his point of view, he did not think he was unfit.

The Manda knew that lesser men had become fathers.

"Generally speaking, it's not something we decide on our own," the blond mystic priest began to explain. "Sometimes a child and a Master will feel attracted to each other and the pair will form naturally, but generally speaking young people are observed and then selected by the teachers who judge their skills and character before offering them to be their pupil."

Well, it was... pragmatic, to say the least.

"So… there's nothing to stop you going to the young people to choose one of them," he pointed out to him to highlight a flaw in his logic.

He had a feeling he was going to ask for a lot of clarification, it was obvious from the way he spoke that Feemor was not saying everything, not to hide things from him but because these things were obvious to him.

"In theory, yes, but with us there's a certain hierarchy to respect, we rarely do as we please, it's generally our elders who tell us when we're ready."

The Mandalorian could appreciate this respect for tradition, elders and the value judgement of the community in order to evolve... but at his age it seemed unnecessarily late. Especially if young people ended up without teachers.

"All that to say, I haven't yet received any formal encouragement to take an interest in teaching. And anyway, even if I wanted to, it wouldn't be wise for me to take Obi-Wan on as a Padawan now. It would be doing him a great disservice."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I have an... enemy of mine who has reappeared after some years of silence. He is dangerous and I have no doubt he would target Obi-Wan to do us harm. He'll be safer away from us."

"Do you need any help?"

"It's kind of you to ask, but this is something we have to deal with ourselves," the Jedi replied, understanding immediately what he was getting at, and Jaster agreed.

If it was a matter of honour, he had no business getting involved.

"What's going to happen to him now?"

"I'll take him to Coruscant for medical check-ups... then I guess he'll be sent to Agricorps as planned."

"So what, he won't be a Jedi but a farmer?"

"The Agricorps isn't just about growing crops, although that is indeed one of their tasks," Feemor replied with an amused smile. "Besides, providing healthy crops to the under-privileged star systems suffering from natural disasters is a noble cause. Most Jedi spend some time with the Agricorps helping people in a practical way, I did that myself for about two years. The Agricorps is above all the Corps of Researchers, their scientific work and research develops the knowledge of the Order in the same way as the medical research or space mapping of the other Corps."

Jaster said nothing, but thought no less of it. This was not the life the kid thought he would have and had wanted, no wonder he was frustrated. People often did not like that much fallback solutions.

"What if he refuses?"

"He can't really refuse, a Jedi goes where their duty take them, to refuse is... well, I suppose it would be to leave the Order, but where would he go?"

"What if I adopted him?"

"You? Adopt him?"

"He fights better than Jango did at his age, is used to a certain discipline and has a good head on his shoulders. He could be a good Mandalorian."

Fortunately he was not offended and the Jedi simply smiled.

"That's really kind of you. I can't imagine him wanting to leave everything he's ever known, but if he ever mentions it, I'll tell him, you have my word."

Jaster cracked a smile and turned the conversation towards safer topics, namely what the Jedi had been up to lately. He told him about his adventures and the absurd moments that once again made him wonder how this order was still standing and they had a good evening. It was a nice moment when he was not the Mand'alor but just Jaster Mereel, the man, and he relaxed into the warm feeling of being seen for himself and nothing more.

Of course it was only for a while. The second he left the man to rest, he gave the order to discreetly investigate anyone who might be an enemy of Feemor and wish him harm. He remained the Mand'alor.

If the Mand'alor did not protect his friends, he would not be worthy of being called Mandalorian.