A Match for the Mandalore

Canderous

When I woke, it was mid morning, or so said the clock on the wall. Jennet was still asleep, and I watched her, enjoying a chance to just look. She was curled up, hands under her pillow, knees bent, a faint smile on her face. Her blond curls were wildly twisting everywhere and I could count six faint freckles on her nose, like tiny flakes of gold. It hit me all over again that this amazing woman was mine.

She had been incredible last night, not just with me, but with the entire camp. Almost everyone there had expressed admiration for her in one way or another. Challenging Kex to a drinking match had been a brilliant stroke, and the side effect of watching her tipsy had been, well, fun. Cute isn’t a word I use, but she had been, getting lost, talking to the stars. I had picked up on that but hadn’t wanted to mention it; it seemed intrusive. She apparently projects sporadically when under the influence. Telling a story in Mandoa had amazed the population and I had overheard the Elders murmuring approval. She hadn’t even realized she was going to speak in that language until she started, and I wondered just how deep the bond between us went.

She muttered something in her sleep, and frowned. I watched her go from peaceful slumber to troubled tossing. I reached a hand out to touch her and she calmed, the frown easing. Curious, I tried tuning in and found I could catch glimpses of her dreams. She was with a woman, an older version of Jennet but with dark hair and blue eyes, as she lay dying. A flash of a handsome man with Jennet’s blond curls and brown eyes, showing her how to throw a dagger. A Twi’lik man, dead at her feet, a look of surprise on his face. The mercenaries at the cantina, opening fire. Me, hands at my neck, blood pouring out of a slit throat. That one made me flinch violently, and I took my hand away from her, afraid of causing more unease. A moment later, when I had myself under control again, I gathered her in to me, and felt her relax.

The dream flashes were more pleasant now: a bird in flight, feathers jewel-like in the sun; the locket I gave her and the pleasure she felt opening the gift; Jennet as a small child, as friendly as a Gizka pup, healing a small furry creature she found in the woods. She stirred, and I felt her begin to awaken. I smiled and kissed her all the way awake.

Before she was completely aware, I felt her healing kick in and the small bruises, nail tracks and slight ale headache I sported melted away. She didn’t bother to open her eyes, just kissed me back thoroughly before pulling away to look at me. Her smile was sleepy but shone brightly.

“Good morning, ti kar’ta,” she said, barely restraining a yawn. “What time is it?”

“Tenish,” I answered, kissing her again, because I could. “Two hours before we’re expected for trial,” I added after we came up for air.

“Don’t remind me,” she muttered.

“Cyar’ika, after last night it’s mostly a formality,” I said confidently. “I don’t think anyone really questions that we’re Mates anymore.”

“Maybe not, but as the first outlander Mate in your history, I’m betting they’re going to want to prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt. Which means they’ll be merciless.”

“You have a point. But we’ll pass any test they throw at us, because we are Mates.”

“True,” she said softly. “If you had told me three weeks ago I would be here, with the Mandalore, proving I was his Mate, I would have checked to see if you were on spice.”

“I’m with you there, Wildcat,” I chuckled. “And now?”

“I can’t imagine being anywhere else,” she said softly. “I love you so much it scares me.”

“There’s very few things that really scare me, Wildcat,” I said seriously. “I lost everything that mattered, I thought, on Malachor V. I didn’t care if I lived or died for ten years. Then I met Revan, and she put some heart back in me. The only thing that scared me for the next five years was the thought of losing the rest of my kin, and the Mandola passing into history. Then I found you. The thought of leaving you, or you gone, scares me more than anything else I’ve ever felt.”

She looked at me, her eyes round and astonished. “How worried about the trials are you, really? Is this where you promise to kill me slow if I ever repeat what you said?”

For a second, I thought she meant it; then I realized she was teasing me. I’m not sure which was harder to do the first time – telling her I loved her, or admitting that loving her left me open to fear. As usual, she didn’t let it be easy for me. I gave her a good glower, which she of course ignored, and kissed me on the nose. I grimaced.

“Don’t worry ti kar’ta, there’s no windows, and the room is soundproofed; no one saw or heard anything to indicate what a softie you are.”

I gave an inarticulate, if insincere, growl. She just kissed me again, then got up to hunt for a robe. Finding it, a couple of towels, and clean clothes, she started toward the ‘fresher.

“I’m going to go take a shower, then find breakfast and coffee. If you’re quick you can join me,” she said with a slow smile.

I found clothes in about six seconds; I almost beat her to the shower. I paid her back for teasing me, which she appreciated enough that I was glad there was a lock on the door and sound dampened walls; Kelborn and Xarga would have gotten more of a show than their imaginations were currently providing. They were there on duty outside our door when we came out of the bedroom to get to the ‘fresher. I was glad it wasn’t all seven of the honor guard; I wasn’t sure I could take the knowing looks first thing in the morning.

Showered and hungry, we made our way to the mess hall, followed by Kelborn and Xarga, where Lorna had the women again providing a fabulous morning feast. We were one of the last in, and cheers went up when we entered the hall. I found Jarxel finishing up his breakfast, the rest of the honor guard scattered among the crowd. Our two shadows took up station behind us.

“Good morning,” Jennet said cheerfully to my second. Jarxel grinned.

“How are you feeling, runi riduur Mandalore?” he said pleasantly.

“Fine, thanks. How’s Kex?” She dove in to her meal with her usual enthusiasm.

“Hung over. Irritated. I’d watch myself with him until at least this afternoon,” Jarxel said with a chuckle.

“I’m holding him to the bet, you know,” Jennet said quietly.

“I have no doubt,” Jarxel said gruffly. He leaned forward conspiratorially. “If you can help him, I will also be in your debt,” he said quietly. “He’s a good man, and I’ve been at a loss of what to do with him these past few years.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jennet promised.

“I know you will,” Jarxel answered seriously. “I believe you do what you say.”

“I do,” Jennet confirmed. “Which reminds me,” she added, turning to me. “I still need to teach you to fight.”

Jarxel choked on his coffee. Jennet helpfully pounded on his back until he got his breath back.

“My way,” she said in explanation. “He doesn’t need any help from me, really.”

“Hello, sitting right here,” I grumbled menacingly. They both ignored me.

“Use the Force to fight?” Jarxel said, utterly astonished.

“No,” I answered shortly.

“He can do that already when he fights with me,” Jennet added brightly. I sent her a glower; she just grinned and ate some more.

Jarxel just looked from me to Jennet, bewildered. “You can use the Force through Jennet?”

“Sort of,” I said, not looking at him, applying myself to breakfast.

He looked suspicious, but interested. “Sort of, how?”

“Think when you’re joined in battle ecstasy, but can draw on each other’s particular strengths,” Jennet said, taking a sip of coffee. She swallowed, and took another bite of eggs. “And you can see what they’re seeing while you fight,” she added after a moment.

“That’s….” Jarxel looked at a loss for words.

“Amazing, yes,” Jennet said cheerfully.

“So what is it you’re going to teach Canderous?” Jarxel asked, puzzled.

“A technique my father taught me,” Jennet answered. “It looks a lot like using the Force, but isn’t. If you can become hyper-aware of what’s around you, you can sort of see it in slow motion, but react in real time. Only works if you have good reflexes to start with; Canderous’s are incredible.”

Jarxel looked at Jennet, considering. “I think I grasp the concept; what does it look like in practice?”

Jennet shrugged. “Take a swing at me.”

“What?!”

“Go on,” I said, amused. “She’ll get out of the way, I promise you.”

Jarxel looked at me, completely at a loss. Then he shrugged, and shot out a fist at Jennet, fast. Jennet moved too quickly to follow; his fist sailed over her head and smacked the back of her chair. Before he could move it back, she had his arm in both hands, pulling it forward. She stopped just as suddenly and released him.

“Like that,” she said, and went back to her breakfast.

The table was silent, and Jarxel looked at Jennet, his mouth open. He shut it with a snap.

“You can teach this?” he asked.

“You, probably.” Jennet said in between bites. “Great reflexes.”

“Not good enough,” he growled.

“Oh, no, they’re great,” Jennet said easily. “On stims, you could take me. You’re about as fast as Canderous. I don’t think you were trying very hard.”

“I wasn’t eager to hit the Mate of the Mandalore,” he snapped.

“Canderous told you to,” she parried with a smile. “Look, I’m not trying to make you look bad, I apologize.”

“None needed,” Jarxel said gruffly. “I probably deserved it. I’ve been told you were good, but even the fight with Cressa you didn’t do anything like that. I underestimated you.”

Jennet winced a little at the mention of Cressa but answered readily enough. “She was on stims, and was very fast to begin with. She was also pissed off. That can help, or hurt, depending on how you let it; she was used to being angry when fighting and it gave her an edge. I used my sight, but it didn’t do a lot of good.”

“She’s still dead,” Jarxel pointed out. “And you’re not.”

“Yes.” Jennet said shortly.

“Trials are probably going to take a while,” I interjected, to get Jarxel off the subject of Cressa. “I don’t know when we’ll have time for lessons. And,” I said, turning to my XO, “I need a plan to get the rest of the refugees here to Dxun. From what I understand, they’re too remote for us to move there. We know of roughly five thousand more Mandoa around the galaxy. It’s about time we start getting us back together.”

“I agree,” Jarxel said, diverted. “If we can clear the jungle and hold fast against the predators, Dxun is ideal. We could be self-sustaining in just a few years, and Onderon is close enough that we can aid the Republic, if you choose.”

“I do. But I thought you didn’t like the idea,” I said, looking at him in surprise.

“I’ve thought about it, and the Elders seem to want to consider it. It would be good to be recognized as a worthy ally. I don’t think the Republic will want to drag us in to their politics much.” Jarxel said. “And mercenary work would be a useful trade for goods we can’t produce.”

“My thoughts exactly.” I watched Jennet get up to help herself to more food and coffee, Lorna’s dark head bent toward her, chatting quietly. Jennet grinned at her and said something that made her laugh.

“It will be good to have women around again,” Jarxel said quietly. “I wouldn’t mind looking at one the way you do Jennet.”

I eyed my second with some surprise. His story wasn’t that different from mine, only he had lost five children on planet, and one son in battle during the war. He had joined me when I went down to look for survivors, and we had helped each other bury our families. We had parted company after our first mercenary job, and hooked up again after I took the Helm. He never asked me much about what I had done in between, and I hadn’t asked him either. He was about fifteen years my elder, but less ambitious; he had been content to act as my XO, and was a good one. If there was anyone I trusted as much as Jennet, it was Jarxel. I looked at him consideringly.

“You’ll find a mate,” I said gruffly. “If she’s not too picky. Gods know why Jennet puts up with me.”

“I don’t think she has much of a choice,” Jarxel grinned. “Mates don’t, you know.”

“So I’ve heard,” I said. “Can’t say I’m sorry.”

“It’s a whole new universe now,” Jarxel said. “A Mandalore with an outlander Mate, half the men eyeing the jetti women with favor, plans to aid the Republic. Interesting times.”

“True. Right now, I just want to get through the trials. Think on the plan for the exodus to Dxun, yes?”

“Will do,” Jarxel promised. “Speaking of the trials, the Elders say to meet them at your friends’ ship at mid-day. The honor guard will meet you at the entrance.”

“The rest of them, you mean,” I said sardonically, pointing with my chin at Kelborn and Xarga. “I doubt they’ll let me out of their sight. Bring home a woman, and suddenly everyone stands on ceremony.”

“Now you know why I like being second in command,” Jarxel chuckled.

We finished up breakfast with a little time to spare. Jennet gave me a quick kiss and said she was heading outside to stretch and do some calisthenics. I joined her; I had been too long without a regular routine. Side by side, we went through push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups. I managed to do more, but not by much. She gave me a quirk of her mouth.

Competitive, much?

I’ve got to take what I can get with you, I answered gruffly.

All you have to do is ask, she purred back. Or look at me like that. Or breathe.

I grinned, and kissed her. She took my hand, and we walked together to the entrance of the camp. The honor guard was waiting; Jarxel let me know that our jetti friends were already at the Ebon Hawk. We all made our way to the ship, Jennet muttering about being sweaty. I didn’t mind; she smelled good to me. Honest sweat has never been a turn off to a Mandalorian.

Once on board the ‘Hawk, we were greeted by the Elders and the rest of the crew. Jennet and I bowed respectfully and they returned the gesture.

Elder Gregor spoke. “Most of the writings regarding Mates have been lost; there has not been a true Mate of a Mandalore in two and a half centuries.”

Jennet looked at me accusingly. “You said four generations.”

I looked back, puzzled. “Yes. A generation is about eighty years.”

“Oh.” She looked mollified. “Most humans consider a generation to be twenty or so.”

Elder Gregor cleared his throat. We went back to paying attention. “However, there are the classic signs of being Mates: sharing battle ecstasy, sensing each other’s presence, even over distance, reading each other’s thoughts. We have never heard of an outlander Mate before, let alone one who is Force sensitive; we can only imagine what the two of you can share, if proven Mates.” He paused, looking from me to Jennet. I remained stoic; Jennet smiled sweetly.

“Elder Evana, Elder Drane and I have decided that the first step in the Trials is to test Jennet for Mandoa blood, and Canderous for metichlorides; this will eliminate more scientific explanations for their bond. I am relatively certain we already know the outcome of these tests, but we would like it on record. This is an unprecedented event, and we as a race have few enough records left. Disciple has graciously offered to act as scribe during the trials; we are fortunate to have a trained archivist on hand.”

Elder Gregor inclined his head at Disciple, who gravely nodded back, his eyes shining.

“Ladria Windbreak, as senior Jedi present, and acting head of the Council,” Jennet looked up sharply at that, and Ladria smiled at her serenely. Jennet smiled back with approval. “Has offered to conduct the blood test on Canderous; Elder Evana will conduct ours on Jennet. We would like physicals from both of you, to ensure you can survive the Trials. This is a formality only, ceremonial, if you will. However, as no Elder council has formally approved Canderous as Mandalore, this would be a good time to do so, and physical trials are part of that.”

“No.” Jennet and I spoke together.

“You refuse?” Elder Gregor asked with a glower.

“Not to ceremonial examinations, no,” I explained calmly. “I object to being ‘approved’ as Mandalore. I am Mandalore, have been for five years now, and the Elder Council does not hold that much power over government.”

“If you attempt to endorse him now, formally,” Jennet added, “along with our Mate trials, you’re more or less publicly doubting his claim to the Helm. I understand it’s only the Mandalore and his Mate apparent that undergo trials; anyone else can just marry and be done with it. You can’t have it both ways; either he is Mandalore, and is undergoing trials to prove he’s Mate to me, or he isn’t Mandalore, in which case, we’re done here.”

“I doubt any of the men here will take kindly to having their leader questioned,” Jarxel said in a quiet but carrying voice.

“They certainly wouldn’t,” Dax added with just a touch of a growl.

The Elders looked from the two men flanking me to Jennet, then my face. Unexpectedly, they all smiled.

“You have passed the test, Mandalore.” Elder Gregor said formally. “The loyalty of your people is impressive.”

“Thank you,” I said. “The trials?” I was aware of the honor, but didn’t feel it was necessary.

“Yes. Master Ladria?” he nodded to her, and she stepped forward, holding out a device almost exactly like the one I’d used on Jennet – was it only ten days ago?

“Elder Gregor, I would like to take not only a sample from Canderous, but all the Jedi present, Jennet, and the honor guard as well, if they consent to it,” she said smoothly. “It would give a baseline. I know you want to be as thorough as possible.”

“That is a good idea,” Elder Evana said slowly. “Perhaps it would be best to do the same with our tests as well. But the Mandalorians involved must give consent freely.”

“Of course,” Ladria said, smiling.

The common area was crowded with the three Elders, the Ebon Hawk crew, and Jarxel and Dax. The rest of the honor guard were outside, both to ensure privacy and because the ship was full enough. Ladria got samples from all the jetti, Jennet, herself, and me. Dax approached without comment, but Jarxel balked for a second. I gave him a look that said only if you want to. He shrugged and put his hand on the pad. I followed Ladria outside, Jarxel coming along.

“Men,” I said without preamble, “The Jedi are taking blood samples from themselves, me and Jennet, and would like to take one from you all as well to get a baseline. You do not have to, but it would be helpful. I expect the Elders would like to take some as well. This is strictly a volunteer basis.” I turned and went back into the ship.

Ladria and Jarxel returned a few minutes later. I was pleased that not one man refused.

While the test was running, Elder Evana collected samples from everyone as well. In about five minutes, the first results were in.

“Here,” Ladria said, plugging her device into the computer terminal built into the table in the common room. “These are the samples from the Mandalorians.” She pointed out eight lines on the graph. “This line is the minimum amount of metichlorides needed to be eligible for Jedi training.” She indicated a point above a line that was higher on the graph than the other seven. “This one is Canderous,” she traced the one that was closest to the Jedi cutoff. “He clearly has more Force ability than the others, but is still below minimum requirements.”

“Where am I?” Jennet asked, leaning forward. Ladria pointed on the graph. I whistled.

“Who is the one above her?” I asked curiously.

“Me.” Ladria said simply. She turned to Jennet. “I am not going to ask you to become a full Jedi, but for all intents and purposes, you pretty much are. The only one I’ve seen higher than either of us that wasn’t a Master was Revan.”

“Surely there were more,” Jennet said nervously.

“Of course,” Ladria said smoothly. “I haven’t seen everyone’s, after all.”

Jennet sat back, looking a little stunned. I put an arm around her.

“Wildcat, if you want to train, I’m behind you,” I said sincerely. “Things are different now, both for the jetti and the Mandoa. There is no Council to forbid our marriage, and my people would accept it, in time. Most already do.”

“I…” Jennet seemed at a loss for words. “I’ll think about it.”

“Fair enough,” Ladria said briskly. “As I said, I’m not going to ask. But…the threat isn’t over, yet. Jedi are nearly extinct; we would welcome you. I suspect you’re more like me than we know; it would explain some things.”

“Like what?” Jennet asked sharply.

“We share some common traits,” Ladria said quietly. “Healing ability, for one. You might have noticed I’m almost as good as you are in that. The ability to attract people, bind them to you. Within a day, everyone on the Ebon Hawk regarded you as family; it seems the same has happened here, with the Mandoa. I’m not saying,” she held up a hand to the Elders, who seemed to be wanting to interject, “That Jennet isn’t genuine, or using a Jedi trick to bind Canderous or your people. She wouldn’t do that, even unconsciously. But she is charismatic, and a natural leader. With training, she would be even more powerful. That could have a positive effect on your people, with her bound to Canderous. The best advice I can give you right now is not to cut yourself off from the Force, like I did.” She gave a sad, bitter smile.

“You are positive Jennet is not a threat, or binding Canderous unconsciously to her?” Elder Gregor asked gravely.

“Absolutely,” Ladria said firmly. “She’s not capable of it. Canderous is stronger in the Force than most of you, but not strong enough to make the sort of bond with her that would explain their connection. And she should not be able to use her Force abilities through him; he’s definitely not sensitive enough.”

“All right then,” Elder Gregor said. “I have our results as well.”

He plugged his unit into the computer, and another graph appeared, floating above the table.

“These are the Mandalorians,” he said, touching eight dots. “They all test positive, seven of them pureblood. This one is well over half, but just under full blooded.”

I was curious, but decided not to ask whose dot it was. Elder Gregor pointed to the other seven dots, all glowing red; but one was lighter than the others. He pointed to that one first.

“This one has had a Mandalorian in their family history at one point, but does not have enough DNA to generate a positive response. This one is Jennet,” he said, pointing to another dot, glowing brightly but absolutely red. “Clearly, no Mandalorian genes at all.”

“Well, no one is perfect,” I quipped. Jennet elbowed me.

Disciple was taking notes the entire time on a datapad. He looked up at Elder Gregor, eyebrow raised. “Let the records show that Jennet is not Mandoa, and Canderous could not be Force sensitive enough to explain their connection?” he asked.

Elder Gregor nodded. “So says the council.”

Disciple busily entered that into his datapad.

“So now what?” Jennet asked.

“We will give each of you a physical examination, and discuss the next trial,” Elder Drane said. It was the first time I’d heard him speak clearly; his voice was low and raspy, as if at one time someone had attempted to strangle him, and his vocal chords had been damaged.

“I’ll go first,” I said, and headed toward the small infirmary. Elder Drane and Disciple followed. The medbay was almost too small for three; all of us were large men, and the room felt claustrophobic. I sat on the gurney and suffered being poked and prodded, Disciple pausing every so often to add something to the datapad. They were swift, and I was pronounced healthy about in about fifteen minutes.

Jennet’s exam by Elder Evana and Ladria took longer; Visas took the datapad for hers, and I suspected the Elders wanted more data on Jennet because of her healing and other Force abilities. But eventually, she came out with a clean bill of health. She sat next to me, smiling, and took my hand. I gave her a squeeze back.

Elder Gregor stood, and faced us. “The examination portion of the Trials are complete. Let the record show that there is no medical or other scientific reason for the apparent bond between Canderous Ordo and Jennet Jax; therefore, the Trials will continue. The next step is to prove or disprove the mental connection; the first of these trials will take place tomorrow at mid-morning. We will meet in the mess hall after breakfast; anyone who wishes to witness the Trials may do so.”

The three Elders gave a short bow, which we stood and returned, and they left, escorted by Zuka and Tagren back to camp.

“That was almost anticlimactic,” Jennet said grumpily.

“Would you rather it had been a grueling seven hour physical examination, complete with probes in uncomfortable places?” Mira asked, grinning.

“Well, no,” Jennet said sheepishly.

“At the risk of saying ‘I told you so…’” I grinned at Jennet.

“Don’t,” she said, half-seriously. “I’m glad today was easy, but I really don’t think it’s going to stay that way. Why tempt the Gods?”

“All right, Wildcat. I’ll keep my hubris to myself.”

“We’re here, with the infirmary, and I have Ladria and Visas on hand. Go get Kex; it’s time to hold him to his bet,” Jennet said, changing the subject.

Jarxel and I went outside and dragged a reluctant Kex into the ship. He wasn’t trying to welsh on his bet, he was just most unhappy about being poked and prodded. When I pointed out how I’d just been through that, he brightened some, but still didn’t look eager. Still, a bet was a bet, and Kex was an honorable man. Within a few minutes, he was out of his armor, wearing only his daily tunic and breeches, and looking grumpy.

Jennet took both his hands in hers, closed her eyes, and stilled. I tuned in and could feel her tracing the bones, muscles, sinew, and blood in Kex’s hands, assessing damage, judging what could be done. After a time, she shifted her hands to his left knee, repeating the process, touching up and down the whole limb, then took stock of the good leg. It took about fifteen minutes for her to get a complete reading, and I already knew what she was going to say.

“I can fix this,” Jennet said quietly. “But it’s going to be brutal for a short time, and I’d rather you were out. In fact, I insist on it.”

“What do you mean?” Kex asked suspiciously.

“I mean I’m going to have to re-break both your hands and shatter your knee in order to fix them. They’ve been healed wrongly too long; my ability will only fix you to where you are; not where you should be. You are at full strength right now, in body; the state of your hands and leg is irrelevant to my healing. I might be able to do enough healing to permanently remove much of the pain, but not restore you to full function as it is. However, if I break them, I can guide the muscles and bones back to their ideal positions.”

Kex looked at her, open-mouthed. He shut it, and looked at me. I nodded encouragingly, as did Jarxel. Finally, he spoke. “You’re absolutely certain you can fix me?” He asked, in a voice that was just short of wonder, yet tinged with suspicion.

“Yes,” Jennet said firmly. She nodded to Ladria, who grabbed a hypo and started toward Kex.

“No,” he said with finality, putting a hand up to Ladria. “I’ll do it, but I don’t want to be put under.”

“Kex,” I said sternly. “Jennet and Ladria will not pull any tricks on you while you’re asleep. You insult my Mate and my guest by being suspicious of their motives. Besides, I’ll be here.”

“No, no,” Kex said, “I meant no disrespect. I just don’t wish to be unconscious. I like your lass, Mandalore. She wouldn’t mean me harm.”

Jennet looked horrified. “You expect me to do this with you awake?!”

“Yes,” Kex said calmly. “I wouldn’t mind a drink or six first, though.”

“You are out of your mind,” Jennet said in a low voice. “You get that this is going to hurt a lot, right? As in vomiting up a lung pain? As in begging to die? You understand?”

“What’s some pain to a Mandalorian? When you’re done, I won’t hurt anymore, right?” Kex asked.

“Well, no.” Jennet said doubtfully. “But it’s going to be hell until I heal you. Three times, I’m going to have to do this.”

“Lass, it’s been hell not being able to fight these last few years. I can stand anything if it means I’ll be back to myself again. But I can’t do it quietly, drugged. I got this way with pain, I’ll get back the same way.”

“Alcohol is a drug, you moron!” Jennet shouted.

“Aye, but it’s a drug I can control,” Kex said, smiling. He didn’t seem fazed by her outburst at all.

“You are fucking insane!” Jennet yelled again.

“No more than most Mandoa,” I said, deciding it was time to intervene. “I don’t like being put out at all. Wildcat, can you keep it together and heal him, even if he’s awake?”

Jennet glared at me. “Of course I can.”

“Then do it,” I said with finality. I didn’t make it an order, really, but she sent me a look that told me just what she thought of my tone.

“Fine,” she snapped. “Apparently insanity is contagious. I’ll do it. But we’d better go somewhere else, where we can fit most of us; I’m going to need help.”


Jennet

We decided the garage was the best place for operations. I needed a place Kex could be restrained easily, and I figured it would take all the males present to do so. Zuka and Tagren had been released from duty after escorting the Elders back to camp. That left four honor guard who could help, plus Canderous, Atton, Disciple, and Bao Dur. Mandalorian males are on the big side; only Bao Dur stood taller and wider than any in camp. Atton and Disciple, while not small men by anyone’s standards, looked almost short; I was a midget. Hence, a place at least eight large men, and me, Ladria, and Visas could fit. Mira tagged along, staying out of the way.

I signaled Bao Dur to me. He strode over, a concerned look on his face. “Yes?”

“I need something like a hammer, but broader,” I said. “About this wide, and solid.” I held up my hands about ten centimeters apart. “Preferably something that I can grip comfortably.”

“Jennet, I can do the breaking part for you,” he said quietly, his blue eyes gentle. “You don’t have to. Any one of us would spare you that, or one of the Mandalorians. I’m surprised Canderous hasn’t offered.”

“He did, just not out loud,” I said, looking Bao Dur in the eye. “I appreciate it, honestly, but this is my patient. He’s trusting me to make him better, in the end. It’s my job - to give it to anyone else would be wrong. But thanks for offering,” I said sincerely.

Unexpectedly, the big Iridonian picked me up and gave me an almost smothering hug. “You’re braver than most Zabrak and Mandoa put together,” he said, soft enough that only I could hear. “You’ll do.” He put me down, touched my cheek, then said in a normal tone, “You sure a hammer won’t do? You can swing that easily enough.”

“I could, but it would take at least five or six blows per hand and three on the knee to do the job,” I said grimly. “I’d prefer to make this as quick as possible.”

“I’ll see what I can come up with,” he promised, and went off to look.

Meanwhile, Atton had helpfully found a few bottles of whiskey for Kex, who was drinking it like water.

“We’re going to need more of that,” I said.

“Oh no, lass, three will do,” Kex assured me.

“Sure it will…if you want to take the second hand and the knee sober,” I informed him. “The healing will take away the drunk too.”

“Ah,” Kex said, disconcerted.

“I’ll go raid the galley,” Atton said, and disappeared into the interior of the ‘Hawk. He came back shortly with the Juma Juice and the vile bottle of rotten kolto stuff. I hoped it was enough.

“Give him something to bite,” I ordered, and Canderous whipped off his belt, doubling up the leather. He handed it to Kex, who eyed it dubiously.

“Do it,” I snapped, “or we stop here.”

“Waste of a good drunk,” Jarxel said helpfully.

Kex glared at him, but put the leather strip in his mouth, biting down firmly. He got it comfortable, then spit it out to take a few more healthy swigs of whiskey. I waited for Bao Dur and for Kex to be sufficiently hammered. I winced at the choice of words.

It’s going to be all right, Wildcat. You can do this. Canderous’s voice in my mind was warm and encouraging.

I just never thought I’d have to torture someone to heal them, I thought back grimly. Mandalorians are more trouble than they’re worth.

Probably, Canderous sounded amused, but underneath, I could feel his concern, not just for Kex, but me as well. I would have talked him into taking the hypo if I could have. I can’t expect him to go the painless route if I wouldn’t.

What IS it about doing this awake, anyway? It can’t just be macho banthashit.

Why don’t you like kolto tanks or clinics?

Because kolto doesn’t do as good a job healing as I can, given time, and clinics are a place that they might figure out I’m not physically what I seem. I answered.

And because you’re not in complete control of yourself. Am I right?

I didn’t answer right away. He was right; I just wanted him to be wrong. All right, I see your point. But it’s still crazy.

Maybe. But it is what it is. I’m just glad that you don’t have to do this to me, this time. And I’m glad that if it ever came to it, you WOULD do this for me.

I would, damn you. I thought back.

Bao Dur returned, carrying a smallish sledgehammer sort of instrument. It was only a little smaller than I would have liked, and the handle fit my grip. I gave it a couple experimental swings, then nodded.

“All right,” I said, looking at the crowd of concerned faces. “I need all of you,” I pointed to each of the men, “to hold him down; I can’t heal him if he accidentally knocks me out, and I’m going to be too busy to get out of his way. Bao Dur, you’re the strongest; I need you to hold his arm down. Make sure it doesn’t move. Canderous, you hold his right shoulder. Kex, time to bite down on that belt.”

I had put Canderous between me and my patient, partly so Kex wouldn’t see the blow coming, partly because I needed Canderous to help center me. I was functioning fine, but I was more frightened than I was about to show to anyone. I took a deep breath, and prayed to the Force I would aim true. Then I smashed the hammer down on Kex’s hand.

I ignored the muffled scream of agony, concentrating on the damage. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mira, who was proving to be an excellent orderly, shoving a basin at Kex; I smelled vomit. I blocked the sounds and smells, and suddenly I felt a perfect detachment come over me. I calmly tuned in to the shattered hand in front of me; this was my task. I had hit perfectly; every bone was broken, some more than once, the whole thing a pulpy mess. I carefully traced the paths of the bones with my fingers, regulating the healing so it flowed in at a steady but controlled rate, mending bone, tendons, and tissue slow enough to allow the damage to heal in its ideal state. About five minutes’ concentration, and I looked up to nod at Bao Dur. He let go of Kex’s arm, and the rest of the men followed suit. Kex sat up slowly, flexing his now healed hand.

“There’s no pain at all,” he said wonderingly. “Look.” He balled it into a tight fist, and unclenched it again, offering his hand to Canderous. With a smile, Canderous gripped it, and winced as Kex squeezed as hard as he could.

“Good grip,” Canderous said in his deep voice.

“Better than it was before, I think,” Kex said happily. Then he looked thoughtful. “More whiskey, this time,” he said, and proceeded to drink.

I kept the cloak of detachment around me. Once Kex was sufficiently drunk, we repeated the procedure with the next hand, paused, then the knee. At last I sat back, drained, and gestured at a bottle, which Mira handed to me. Kex had drunk all of the nasty kolto stuff; I was grateful for that. There was about a half a bottle of Juma Juice left. I took a large swallow, and felt the warmth spread over me.

Kex was on his feet now, exclaiming over the absence of pain and bragging that he could fight better than ever now. He swept me up in a huge hug, spinning me around and kissing me on both cheeks.

“Thank you lass! If ever you need anything, just ask old Kex now, you hear?” he said, grinning all over his face. “If the Mandalore is ever too stupid to keep you happy, you know where to find me,” he added with a roguish grin.

“Glad I could help,” I said sincerely. “He’s a bit of a pain, but I think I’ll keep him,” I added with a grin of my own.

“Good girl.” Kex said, ignoring Canderous’s half hearted scowl.

“Now, don’t go entering the battle circle or otherwise try to fight for at least two days, understand?” I said sternly. “Your body needs some time to adjust, and trying to push it too soon might foul things up. I do not want to do this again, okay?”

“Anything you say, darlin’” Kex said cheerfully.

Please, I thought pleadingly, get rid of them. I need to fall apart now.

Canderous sent me an understanding noise and shooed Kex, Xarga and Kelborn out of the Ebon Hawk, telling them to meet us back at camp. He got back to me just in time to catch me as my legs gave out.

“Basin,” I said, and Visas had it in front of me. I lost everything I’d eaten in a week, it felt like. Then I shook for about five minutes, Canderous holding me while I went to pieces. I could still feel the crunch of bones being crushed as I smashed Kex’s hands and knee, and hear his agonized roar, muffled by the leather strap, smell the pain and vomit. Gradually, I stopped trembling, and leaned against Canderous, taking deep breaths.

“You were magnificent, cyar’ika,” he said admiringly. “Brave as a Mandalorian.”

“Very impressive,” Jarxel said sincerely. “Not a flinch from you.”

Dax just looked at me, eyes shining, and patted my shoulder. Mira touched me too, and he put his arm around her, almost unconsciously. They made a beautiful couple, both tall and strong. I smiled shakily.

“So brave I lost my breakfast,” I said a touch bitterly. “Some healer I am.”

“Being brave isn’t lack of fear,” Ladria said softly. “It’s being able to act in spite of being afraid. You did what needed to be done.”

“Thanks,” I said, looking around. I smiled, still a little wobbly. Atton handed me the Juma Juice again. I took another swallow, and felt steadier.

“Good job, gorgeous,” he said, giving me his special rogue grin. I gave him a hug, despite Canderous’s glower. The rest of the crew followed suit, and Dax, and I felt better.

“I’m glad you were all here.” I said. “It would have been a lot harder otherwise. You too, Jarxel,” I added. “Thanks for helping talk Kex into it.”

“I did nothing,” he said gravely. “But I’m very glad he’s healed. And I’m very glad you’re here. Canderous is fortunate in his Mate.”

“Thank you,” I said, touched. “I’m fortunate in mine, too,” I said with a smile.

“Hungry, Wildcat?” Canderous asked, eyeing me.

“Amazingly, yes.” I said with a laugh. “Let me brush my teeth first.”

When we all arrived back at camp, we were greeted by half the population, chattering on about the transformation in Kex. I was suddenly hoisted on to the shoulders of the honor guard and paraded around the complex, much to my embarrassment and Canderous’s amusement. Kex led the pack, loudly proclaiming his admiration and showing off his lack of a limp. I have to give the Mandoa credit; they work hard, and play hard, and know how to celebrate. The rest of the day became a prolonged party, with ale being pressed on me at every turn. I drank as little as I could get away with, and ramped up my healing enough to keep me from the listing disaster of last night. When attention was finally off me, I slipped away to visit Cressa’s grave.

I sat there, mercifully alone for once, and thought about the last ten days. So much had happened I was almost on overload. I pulled my legs up, arms around them, chin resting on my knees, and meditated. Emptying my mind, I reached for the Force, and felt its warm presence around me. I felt centered again, and smiled. I didn’t start when Canderous approached and put a hand on my shoulder; I’d felt him long before he got there. He sat next to me, not speaking, just quietly sharing the moment. I leaned back against him, sighing in pleasure.

“How did you ditch the guard?” I asked.

“They’re all whooping it up with Kex,” he said in his deep voice. “I think Dax is off with Mira somewhere, and Jarxel for once didn’t find it necessary to follow me.”

“I like your people,” I said, smiling. “They’re as overprotective as you, though.”

“Not really,” Canderous said thoughtfully. “We just like to take care of our own. I don’t shield you from your own fights.”

“You’d like to,” I pointed out.

“Of course I would,” he said, a slight growl in his voice. “You have an unfortunate habit of finding trouble that makes me crazy. But I don’t keep you from taking care of yourself.”

“True,” I answered softly. “It’s one of the many reasons I love you. You don’t try to make me something I’m not.”

“I get that,” Canderous said, equally softly. “I’ve had that happen too often myself; it’s never comfortable.”

“How so?” I asked curiously.

“Gerda didn’t, but then we more or less grew up together. But there’s been other women, and men, that have tried to turn me into someone I wouldn’t recognize. Even when I hated who I was, I didn’t really want to be someone else.” Canderous looked at the new grave, and frowned. “She was one of them,” he pointed to the turned earth with his chin. “At first, she tried to make me into an Exchange boss, with her at my side. When I refused, she went after my boss. She likely would have tried to have me eliminated if she had succeeded, either way.”

I nodded. “I can see that,” I offered. “Who else?”

“Revan,” he said quietly. “We all adored her, you know, and she didn’t want to change me, exactly, but was never entirely comfortable with what I was. She did change me, without intending to, for the better, it’s true. But that was different; more like helping me find my real self again. Most of that party didn’t like me much; can’t say I blame them, really. I didn’t like me that much at the time. But toward the end, there was mutual respect, and even some affection. I wouldn’t mind meeting them all again, now.”

“Did you love her?” I asked, curious. I wasn’t jealous; Revan was obviously the past. But it was a little piece of the puzzle that was Canderous, and I liked to discover new things about him.

“As a friend, yes, although I wouldn’t have put it that way then. As a women…a bit, I suppose. She’s a worthy fighter, and a strong woman, and she didn’t seem to be afraid of me at all. Attractive to someone that was used to being feared.” He paused with a deep sigh. “She was, and probably still is, in love with Carth Onasi. But she left a year later, and no one has seen her since. Ladria came back with the Ebon Hawk, and hasn’t told anyone what she knows of Revan’s whereabouts. Onasi’s an admiral now, from what I heard; rumor has it he’s waiting for Revan to return.”

He had been stroking my hair absently as he remembered, and kissed the top of my head. “But you, Wildcat…right from the start, you weren’t afraid of me, even liked me at my worst. I knew as soon as I saw you fight that first time you were something special, and I wanted to know your name, where you came from. That’s why I dragged you out of the cantina; I knew I wouldn’t get you out of my head if I left you there.”

“So much has happened in such a short time,” I said, twisting around to look him in the eye. “It would be overwhelming if it wasn’t so right.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Canderous agreed, and kissed me. He pulled back, then asked curiously, “What about you?”

“What do you mean?” I gave him a puzzled look.

“Who has tried to change you?” he clarified.

“Not many,” I answered honestly. “I haven’t had that many people close enough to try.”

“You told me once you’d had a few lovers,” he said carefully. “I’m not prying, and not jealous beyond the wish I had been there first. Chalk that up to the possessiveness of the Mandalorian male in general,” he said with a self-depreciating snort. “I am curious, though, who would have attracted you before me. You’re not the type to sleep with just anyone.”

“And you are?” I asked archly.

“I was, sort of,” he said honestly enough. “There’s always willing women, and I wasn’t adverse to their company. I didn’t want anyone close, though, so I pretty much kept to one night stands and those who I paid. Cressa was the only ‘relationship’ I could claim since Gerda died, and you know how that was. There were a few I would have liked to have something more permanent, but I didn’t try. Both because I didn’t want permanence, and because I was pretty sure they didn’t really want me, and would try to change who I was. Now,” he said with a leer, “I don’t want anyone else.”

“Well, neither do I,” I said with a smile.

“So who?” Canderous asked, a kath hound with a fresh kill.

I sighed. “No one that matters now,” I hedged. He gave me a look. “Oh all right, I know you understand that. My first was right after Mom died; I was desperately lonely and unhappy with my part in that. His name was Jarret Jordimane; I took the similarities in our names as a sign. Stupid, I suppose.” I leaned forward, remembering. “He was kind, but a drifter, and I knew he wouldn’t stick around. Professional Pazzak player; he was always annoyed that I didn’t care for the game. He started asking questions about me I wasn’t comfortable with, so I found a job that took me away, before he could go himself. We were together about four months. He was a decent fighter, but resented I was better.”

“No many men would deal with that well,” Canderous said knowingly. “We all say we don’t mind, but underneath we’re just a bunch of Neanderthals wanting to prove dominance.”

“You’re not like that,” I protested.

“Sure I am,” he said easily. “I just don’t let it rule me. I don’t resent that you’re a better fighter than me, sure, but sometimes I wish that I could protect you better.”

“You do fine,” I assured him. “I don’t make it easy, in any case.”

“No, you don’t, but then neither do I. Wait ‘til I run off with some half-cocked idea; you’ll just love that,” he chuckled. “So who else?”

“Two of them were pretty much spur of the moment things. Didn’t last more than a couple of weeks, and we went our separate ways,” I said.

“What about Dax?” Canderous asked, no hint of jealousy or suspicion, but something else; like he knew that things weren’t as cut and dried as I had told him. I should have known he’d pick up that sooner or later.

“I told you I didn’t sleep with him,” I said pointedly.

“So you did, and I know that’s true. But something was there once, wasn’t it?” He wasn’t upset, I could tell, just curious.

“More of a possibility of something,” I said honestly. “He would have liked to try, and I wasn’t against the idea, but there was Jareth, and I wasn’t going to pit friend against friend.”

“Jareth loved you too?” Canderous asked, trying to piece it together.

“No, he really didn’t. Wanted me, yes. And Dax didn’t love me, or me him. It was more of could be, with time. But Jareth and Dax were very close, and I would have put strain on that relationship. Jareth was unreasonable on some issues; he considered Dax a blood brother, and thought that meant that they shared…everything. I, and for that matter Dax, wasn’t going to put up with me being passed between them, or Jareth’s jealousy if I was with Dax. So we kept it to friendship, and everything worked out fine until that day at the cantina. Dax and I only once talked about it openly, and I turned him down. He took it very well, actually.”

I turned to Canderous, and looked him in the eye. “I didn’t regret it then, or now. If he had meant enough to me, we would have worked things out.”

“I know that, Wildcat. I’m only curious. He’s certainly taken with Mira now.” Canderous seemed thoughtful. “I’m glad of that; Mira’s good people.”

“She is,” I smiled. “I’m glad of it too. Dax is like a brother to me, now, and Mira feels like a sister. I never had siblings; it’s nice to sort of have them now. What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”

“I had a brother once. He died during the war. His name was Calder, and he was three years younger than me, and a good fighter. He was a Colonel and was wildly envious of me making General. He was supposed to be promoted two weeks after his death.” His face was sober, but calm. “My sister Cartha, who was five years younger, died in childbirth when I was about your age. Almost killed mother to lose her; she always said Cartha had the most sense of her children. She likely did.” His voice was almost dreamy with remembrance. “My parents died just before the war started, in a shuttle accident. Father was a great warrior; he was on his way to discuss battle tactics with the Mandalore and Council. They had chosen him to lead the first assault. Mother didn’t like being apart from him, which was why they were both on the shuttle.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

“Don’t be, cyar’ika. It was a long time ago.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, and kissed me. “You haven’t told me about the last one yet.”

“You don’t forget a single conversational tangent, do you?” I grumbled.

“Nope.” He grinned. “That’s what makes a good leader; I listen.”

I was silent for a while, trying to find words. Canderous was quiet in my mind, not exactly blocking, just not tuning in, and I was the same. It was comforting, his constant presence.

“I almost married, once,” I said softly. “It didn’t work out.”

“When was this?” Canderous looked a little taken aback at my admission.

“A year after Jareth died,” I said, looking up. It was dark now, and I couldn’t see his face clearly, but his eyes were bright. “He was a friend of my parents’.”

“A jetti?” he asked, his voice tinged with surprise.

“Yes,” I said, not looking away.

He looked a little shocked, then interested. “I wouldn’t have thought you would get involved with a jetti. Did he know of your abilities?”

“Yes,” I answered. “He was Dad’s and Mom’s best friend, they were all Padawan together, and had been inseparable during training. When my dad and mom left the Order, Stefan was one of those that kept in touch and didn’t disapprove. He was also the only Jedi they told that I was Force sensitive.”

“So they trusted him completely,” Canderous observed.

“Oh, yes,” I confirmed. “He visited us regularly during my childhood. I called him Uncle Stefan then. I adored him, and he took a genuine interest in my progress. He never breathed a word to the Order about my abilities.”

“So how did Uncle Stefan become your betrothed?” Canderous said, a slightly disapproving look on his face.

“What bothers you, the fact that I thought of him as family as a kid, or that he was old enough to be my father?” I asked bluntly.

“Depends on when he started taking a more personal interest in you,” Canderous growled. “Like I have any room to talk about age difference; I’m twenty years your senior.”

I gave him a look, and he relented a little. “Not until I was an adult. I am certain he didn’t think of me as anything but an honorary niece until then. I hadn’t seen him since Dad’s funeral. He tried to help Mom after that, but she withdrew, and from what I gathered, asked him not to visit anymore. I always wondered if he was in love with Mom, and she couldn’t deal with it.”

“Wildcat, this is almost as strange as me and Cressa so far. You almost married a man who was your parent’s best friend, a Jedi, and had possibly been in love with your own mother?” Canderous sounded bemused.

“Put that way, it does sound strange,” I admitted. “But it came about so gradually that it wasn’t, at least not to us. I was on Telos, collecting on a bounty, and Stefan was at the port as I was heading to my ship. He recognized me, even though the last time I had seen him I had been a gawky twelve-year-old. He was on Jedi business and couldn’t stay more than a day. We spent it talking about my parents, and what I had been doing, how I was getting along. He had heard about Mom’s death, but well after the fact, and apologized for not being at the funeral. I called him Uncle Stefan by habit, and he made me drop the ‘Uncle’, saying it made him feel old. It was great feeling less alone, even though I had kept up contact with most of my parents’ other friends, none but Stefan that was Jedi knew the truth about my Force connection. Just before he left, he said he’d like to keep in touch, and made me promise to meet him again soon.”

“What happened then?” Canderous prompted.

“We met on Onderon,” I said. It was strange, in a way, to be talking about Stefan to Canderous, but comforting, too. I understood his ease of talking about Gerda to me now. “I didn’t ask how he managed that; he was fairly high up with the Order by then, and I figured he had a lot of freedom. We started making dates to meet, sometimes for a few hours, sometimes for a day or two. I began to look forward to the next time I saw him in a much more personal way, and berated myself for acting like a teenager with a crush. I was astonished when he confessed he felt the same way. So he started courting me. He was very careful about it, both because of his position and because I was the daughter of a dear friend, never mind Dad was dead. The age difference bothered him more than me, I think. I was resistant at first, I wasn’t going to be part of his downfall with the Council, and if anyone found out about me, I wasn’t sure what they would do.

“Stefan was strong, and patient, and he loved me, enough to risk his whole life. I tried to put him off, but he was persistent, and truth was, I was as much in love with him as he was with me. It took me six months to wear down, and then I moved to Onderon, what I thought then was permanently. I was there a year, with him visiting as often as he could, or me traveling to meeting him. I still took bounties and fought in battle rings to support myself, but those are very flexible occupations.” I paused, remembering that year, and how happy I had been.

“He talked about getting married, and I put him off a while.” I continued. “Finally, one day I said yes. He was going to leave the order, and we were planning the wedding.” I looked up at Canderous with a sad smile. “One day, he came home, and we had a wonderful romantic evening. The next morning he was just gone. I was worried, but who would I report it to? I fretted for three days, when I received a holo, telling me he loved me, but that the Order was suspicious now, and some questions were asked about Drake and Miranne’s child. That was what everyone called Dad – Drake. He hated Draguel. The Order made it clear – play it their way, or they would pursue the rumors. Stefan didn’t want my life taken over by the Council, or my parent’s memory dragged through their debates. He took their punishment, and never contacted me again.”

“What did you do?” Canderous asked seriously.

“Wrecked the apartment,” I said with a sheepish laugh. “Then I got on my ship after packing up what little I wanted to keep, and headed to anywhere I could get a job.” I paused. “I was so angry with him, but mostly, I was mad at myself. I had known from the beginning it probably wouldn’t work, but I let myself be persuaded. I was mostly mad because for a while, I let myself think I could have a normal life, and knew better. It was so good not to have to hide what I was, to be encouraged to improve. He trained me some, but I refused to learn most other Jedi abilities. It took a year to really forgive Stefan. He’s probably dead now,” I said sadly. “With the Jedi assassinations and all.”

“He was a fool,” Canderous said harshly. “He could have left the order, and married you, but gave you up rather than his Order. I can understand trying to protect you, but how he left was unforgivable.”

“No,” I said softly. “They wouldn’t let him tell me in person. It was clear that they weren’t going to be easy on him. He actually had to smuggle out the holo; they were going to make him just disappear. I imagine someone on the Council suspected that not only was I Drake and Miranne’s daughter, but I was Force sensitive, and fairly powerful. They couldn’t prove it, and chose to keep one Jedi in the order rather than pursue me. If they had made a stink about it, they would have lost Stefan too. I’m positive he made a deal that the Council leave me in peace, in exchange for his compliance. I did wonder if he had something on the Council they would rather not be known.”

Canderous thought about that, then shrugged. “I still think he was a fool. But then, I’m glad he was.”

I smiled, and kissed him. “Me too.”