A Match for the Mandalore

“I didn’t,” I protested, innocent as all hell. I even batted my eyelashes. Aw, aren’t I cute? I already figured he wouldn’t be swayed by my, er, charms, but what the hell, might as well have fun while your life is going down the shithole.



“You sure as shit did,” he shot back, unimpressed. “Why?”



Atton, who was across the room, laughed uproariously. He chortled until tears ran down his face, and I turned and glared at him. “Oh, you are good,” he snickered, trying to get his breath back. “But you have so picked the wrong crowd to try this on. By all means, continue the show. I haven’t been so entertained in months.”



“I was thinking the same thing,” Mira was laughing almost as hard as Atton. Wonderful. Other women’s humiliation is what made her laugh.



I sniffed scornfully, and raised my chin. “We fought; I lost. End of story.” I wasn’t giving an inch. “And now this big, dumb son of a nerfherder is pissed off for no discernable reason.” I squirmed again, just to see him irritated. “Let GO of me, you oaf!”



“No.”



I tried going limp and slithering out; he just gripped me tighter until breathing became an issue. I stilled, and his grip loosened only enough for me to draw air easily. The whole time, I had been thinking furiously, planning and discarding possible stories to placate this stone wall I was penned in and his friends.



Ladria’s voice cut through the room. She didn’t look mad, more entertained, but not as amused as Atton and Mira, who were both still chuckling. The rest of them bore various expressions: Visas, regal and remote, Disciple a bit suspicious, Bao Dur serene, his eyes twinkling. Canderous, when I sneaked a peek, looked thunderous.



“It looks like we’re at an impasse. Jennet, we are at a loss here why Mandalore is insisting you lost on purpose, and is mad about it. I do know that he respects warriors, and said you were ‘an incredible fighter,’ which is very high praise from him. So I must conclude you did lose on purpose; he would know. We have a few choices: you can explain, and leave; explain, and stay; not explain, and leave. I’m afraid if you stay we’ll insist on an explanation; it’s never a good idea to have crew members live in suspicion of each other.”



There was a general snort of irony I didn’t understand from almost everyone. I thought I heard someone mutter, “Kriea”. Great, yet another piece of information to mull on later. But it didn’t matter, did it, I wasn’t staying.



Was I?



“Mandalore, is there any chance you’ll let Jennet up?” Ladria asked. I batted my eyelashes again, to be as annoying as possible.



“No.”



“I could order you to as captain.”



“You could try,” he snarled.



“Hey now…” Atton started to protest, looking angry. Ladria cut him off with a gesture.



“No, Atton, he’s not being insubordinate; just stubborn. I don’t blame him,” she added with a touch of a smile. “I’m curious myself.” She continued to look at me, as if thinking something over. As if she had come to some decision, she said, “Let us tell you our story, and maybe then you’ll be willing to tell yours.”



There was a storm of objections. Atton started shouting about missions and trust issues, Mira chiming in with her own brand of paranoia. Visas seemed willing to hear me out, but not necessarily to trust me yet. Disciple was talking fast about Jedi trust, and the sanctity of something or other. Canderous remained mutinously silent, and I listened to the babble with growing fascination. What in hell’s bells was going on here? After a while, I gave up trying to make any sense of it.



The debate raged for a bit. As the meaningless voices babbled on, I was suddenly aware of just how comfortable Canderous’s lap was. Completely without guile, I snuggled a bit, and closed my eyes, letting the tide of words wash around me. I felt his arms tighten just a little and opened my eyes to his blue stare. For just a moment, there was no anger or secrets between us. Well secrets, okay, sure, but he could tell that I wasn’t trying to get the edge on him, and I could tell that he was mad, yeah, but not necessarily for the reasons I had thought. He didn’t think me an infiltrator; he thought I had tried to humiliate him by letting him win. I tried to signal with my eyes that no, that wasn’t what I had been up to. He seemed to understand, a little, and I felt a lot of the tension go out of his body. I snuggled a little more, and felt something stir within him. Or maybe on him. I grinned, and winked. He may be twice my age, but he was a damn fine specimen of manhood. I was flattered.



He looked down, seemed to lose some sort of battle with himself, and chuckled in my ear, “You’ve got guts, kid. And style, too.” I smiled back, and closed my eyes again. He was a little overwhelming at close range, and being nice.



Bao Dur had said nothing during the shitstorm, but they all stopped at his quiet “I agree with you, General.”



My eyes popped open. She was a General? Shit, and the fun just keeps coming.



“General?” I yelped involuntarily.



Ladria made a dismissive gesture. “I’m not one anymore, and it’s a long story.”



“Um, okay,” I said uncertainly. I looked up at Canderous again, who just shrugged.



Finally the hubbub died down, and Ladria, with help from everyone, laid out their situation. It took forever, and Canderous refused to let me up the whole time. I was starting to be afraid I was going to disgrace myself. I’d been sitting in one spot for more than three hours, and my bladder was now at the screaming point.



There was an expectant hush as the story ended, and everyone looked at me. I stared around, and they all waited for my next words with seemingly bated breath.



I said brightly, “Can I use the ‘fresher, please?”



There was a surprised silence, and most of them laughed. Canderous, predictably, didn’t.



“No,” he said flatly.



I turned around and met his gaze full on. “I give my word as a warrior I won’t run,” I said, dead serious.



He seemed to consider that.



“No.”



I scowled and snapped, “Fine then, let me wet myself here, on you, I don’t mind sharing. Fer Gods’ sake, you can stand outside the door!”



Apparently seeing the logic of this, he stood up, still toting my carcass, and settled the matter by carrying me in, setting me on my feet, and standing outside the door. Pins and needles shot painfully up and down my legs from being forced to sit in one position for so long. My knees were shaking too, largely from the emotional impact of what I had been told. Stubbornly, I was determined not to let my knees buckle until the door was closed. They gave, but I made it, collapsing after I didn’t have a witness. I sat a moment until my legs could hold me up, and then went about my business. At last I was alone, bladder relieved, head spinning, stomach churning. I was trembling all over, and suddenly felt sick. I made it to the toilet just in time. Mercifully, I hadn’t eaten much today. I hoped Canderous couldn’t hear me through the steel door.



After my unscheduled purge, I felt a little better. I rinsed my mouth, and even found some breath spray to kill the awful taste. I washed my hands, dried them, and realized I’d delayed as long as I dared. I opened the door. Without comment, Canderous picked me up again and hauled me back to the common room.



I was starting to get used to this form of transport. I wiggled a little, because I could, and shamelessly snuggled. He was big, and strong, and even when mad, he unaccountably made me feel safe. I rather liked the feeling. Besides, it seemed to annoy him when I flirted. He breathed in my ear, “You are an annoying woman. I should have let you wet yourself.” and I whispered back, “Back at you, Big Boy.” I fluttered my lashes yet again, and made my brown eyes big and innocent. He snorted. So much for seduction.



I had succeeded in distracting myself with this little scene for a few precious moments. Now, I had some decisions to make. I looked at all of them, and was terrified at what they had told me. But a few salient points had come to mind, and that made things easier, at least for me.



I looked at Ladria, and asked abruptly, “So the Jedi council is gone?”



“Yes,” she said simply.



“Assuming you win, what will happen to the Jedi that are still alive?”



“I…” she faltered. “I honestly don’t know. I suppose some sort of order will be restored eventually. By who, I’ve no idea.”



“You, probably. Or Revan. Or both. Is that why you’ve been recruiting Jedi, even people that are as old as your little group?” I waved a hand around.



“I hadn’t thought of it like that.” Her voice was quiet.



“Well, you should.” I said.



She considered this. “I suppose you’re right.”



“It looks to me like there isn’t much of a choice for anyone. We either go and fight this thing and win, or everything’s gone.”



Ladria’s gaze sharpened. “We?”



“Yeah, I’m in.” It took everything I had not to throw up again; I was scared shitless. I just knew Canderous could feel me trembling. Suddenly, I didn’t care. Only a supreme idiot wouldn’t be scared.



Proving my point, Canderous said, “I knew you were as brave as a Mandolorian.”



Aw, ain’t that sweet. Moron.



“Okay…” I took a shaky breath, and let it out slow. “I’m sure none of you are right on the old ‘trust without proof or reservation’ land speeder. So I guess I better come clean.”



And with that, I quit blocking my Force abilities from others, and shifted my sight. I had seen Canderous’s aura earlier, but to my surprise there was more brightness there than before. There was a serene center to him that I hadn’t noticed the first time. Since ‘serene’ is not a word I would use to describe him, I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I dismissed it for now, putting it in the ever-growing pile of ‘think about it later’ files.



Atton’s aura would have been bewildering, if I hadn’t heard most of his story. It was pure, bright blue-white with ugly slashes of red and black that were starting to fade, but I knew wouldn’t completely go away. Bao Dur’s was much the same, but with far less black. Mira’s…was interesting. Mostly blue-white, the red mixed in here and there, as if she had only done evil when pushed. But the brightness was less than Atton’s or Bao Dur’s, and only a smidge brighter than Canderous’s. Disciple’s was the most predictable of the bunch; blue-white, bright but not wildly intense. He had hardly any red, but his white was washed out somehow, as if he’d gotten there mostly by following rules and not necessarily being in the daily struggle of choices. There was, however, some great potential there; a glimmer showed brightly around the edges. Visas’s was brighter than anyone’s but Ladria’s, but surrounded by red, as if it had been all red once, and the white had been slowly expanding outward from the center. Curious.



Ladria’s now…it was bright, shining, blinding white, not even a touch of blue, and the red and black were only shadows churning through like spent storm clouds. I was awed by the good I saw, and felt almost ashamed.



Almost.



There was a collective gasp from the Jedi, followed by an irritable “What?” from Canderous. I looked at him. “I’m sorry. You can’t feel it, really, but I’ve just shown them my connection to the Force.”



He literally threw me off his lap. I landed hard, wincing.



“You’re JETTI?” he roared at me. He was so good at that roaring thing. I hadn’t stood on my own feet for hours, I wasn’t sure I could now, yet. So I sat on the floor on my bruised ass and laughed at him. He didn’t seem to appreciate my humor.



“Nope.”



I could tell all of them were checking out my aura, and dimly heard their murmurs as they diagnosed me behind my back. Well, okay, in front of my face. I didn’t mind; I did invite it, after all. But it was hard, harder than even I thought it would be, to expose myself like this. So I concentrated on Canderous, the one person that couldn’t judge me by it. Besides, he was the only one that was pissed off about it so far.



“My mother and my father were both Jedi. They left the order, all right and proper, well as much as that could be, I suppose…I don’t know exactly how they did it. They married, and had me. As soon as I was born, they knew I had both of their abilities. Well, neither of them had been on great terms with the Order, and didn’t want them coming along and taking me away. They thought it was barbarous to separate a child from its parents. But, they also knew that Force sensitive with no training, living with two fairly powerful Force sensitives, would be extremely damaging to me, not to mention potentially dangerous to anyone around me. So…they trained me themselves. I had an insanely happy childhood, believe me.



“The earliest memories I have is Dad teaching me how to block my abilities from others, so I wouldn’t be noticed by Jedi. It was his special talent; that, and fighting. I think that ability had something to do with him leaving the order; I’m not sure. Anyway, he gave me my first sword, made of wood, and taught me how to use the Force to anticipate my opponent’s moves. Mother…” I swallowed. It had been a long time since I had talked about her to anyone else. “She was an empath, a healer. She taught me to keep healing power always inside me, how to use it on myself and others, and how not to get caught. I’ve got every trick up my sleeve on that; mostly I just tell people it wasn’t as bad as it looked when they stop bleeding. That, and carry around lots of kolto packs. It’s amazing how much you can heal on a person when they’re distracted and screaming in pain.



“I was twelve when my father died. There was a horrible battle somewhere, and he was in the thick of it. My mother hadn’t been there; we were off-planet at the time. She blamed herself for his death, because she hadn’t been there to heal him. He could do some, of course, all Jedi can I guess. But they usually fought together, Mom backing him up and steadily sending healing around so everyone, especially Dad, could keep fighting. And she wasn’t there when he died. She just…sort of faded away after that. When I was eighteen, and she was satisfied I could survive on my own, she just…died.



“So…I was alone, and a good fighter, and had this weird ability to heal myself without trying very hard. I didn’t want to become a soldier; the Republic works hand in hand with the Order - too much chance of a Jedi noticing me. Plus, I don’t follow rules all that well. So I became a mercenary. I traveled around, learning new things about fighting from anyone who would teach me. I wasn’t kidding about the Mandolorians earlier; they taught me some fantastic stuff. I didn’t stay anywhere long, because someone might notice how…off...I was, and start asking questions. The last thing I wanted was to get a reputation, and have the Jedi knock on my door, or an assassin trying to make a name for themselves. But I couldn’t just sit around and play Happy Homemaker either. I had abilities, and training; not to use them would be a waste, and disrespectful to what my parents had taught me. I sort of drifted around, helping people when I could, taking on bounties that weren’t totally slimy, fighting where I could get paid and felt that the cause wasn’t corrupted. Then I came here. You know the rest.”



I looked at Canderous, and his face was inscrutable. He stood up, and walked out without saying a word. Guess the honeymoon’s over. I sighed.



I looked at Ladria, and asked, “So, where do I bunk? And would it be awful of me to ask someone to buy me some clothes, and weapons? I can’t go to the shops.” I knew everyone had heard my story, and wanted to ask questions, but I had had enough for now. Screw it. I was in, and they could ask later.



“Of course,” Ladria said. You’re only a couple of inches shorter than me, and look about the same size. I’ll go do that with Mira. If you don’t mind?” she cocked an eyebrow at Mira, who nodded.



“Me too,” Atton chimed in. “Can I help pick out underthings?” There was a note I didn’t understand in his voice, and Ladria, amazingly, blushed. Well, well, well. Seems some Jedi aren’t as uptight as I thought. Good for them.



“Fuck you, Rand,” I said pleasantly, tossed credits at Ladria, and went to go find a bunk. I heard Atton’s laughter behind me as I walked down the corridor. I flopped down, and was asleep in moments.