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.