A Match for the Mandalore

Jennet

Canderous and I had talked to the Elders, and they agreed that we would resume the Trials in a week. The last stage involved combat, and Bao Dur needed a little time to get the energy dampeners ready, for one. Mostly, though, it had just been a hell of a week, and we needed some time to assimilate.

As Elder Evana had said privately, no one really questioned we were Mates anymore. The Trials were continuing because of tradition, and because I was an outlander; they wanted all the information they could get. I understood the importance of documentation for future generations; having so very little from my own life and family I certainly wasn’t going to balk at helping others keep records. Trials were also a way for everyone to get used to me, and see what I can contribute as the Mate of the Mandalore. I didn’t mind being a bit of a sideshow if it meant it made things easier for Canderous.

Another thing I had privately discussed with the Elders was the traditions of the wedding ceremony. I was pretty sure I understood the ritual itself, I just wanted to know what was appropriate as far as gifts, or dowry. Dowries were still common, and I had no idea if Mandalorians subscribed to them, or if a formal negotiated contract was necessary. I had no family at all to represent me, if that was the case. Luckily, none of it was required in our situation. They did have formal contracts and dowries, but only for a first arranged marriage; in the case of a widow or widower remarrying, contracts were only necessary if the other party was marrying for the first time. I was, but I was an outlander, and had not been found by search and negotiation; therefore, the only thing tradition states is exchanging wedding gifts.

“Well, I’m glad there’s less fuss than I’d feared, but what is considered an appropriate wedding gift?” I asked curiously. “He’s got weapons, armor…hey, I know, I could get him a new helm; that one he wears is awfully battered.”

Elders Drane and Gregor gave me horrified looks and started lecturing me on the importance of the Helm of the Mandalore. Elder Evana just laughed until she cried.

“Lighten up, you two,” she informed the male Elders. “Can’t you see she was just trying to provoke you?”

“That,” growled Elder Gregor, always the most pompous of the three, “was in very poor taste, and not funny at all.”

I smiled sunnily at him. “I apologize. But you should take Elder Elder Evana’s advice. That shade of purple can’t be healthy.”

At that, Elder Drane started to chuckle too, and Elder Gregor reluctantly smiled. “Irreverent, irritating child,” he rumbled at me, but without malice.

“Did you hear that?” I asked the other two Elders. “He loves me!”

I popped up out of my chair and kissed Elder Gregor on the cheek. His face turned several more interesting shades, and I was afraid I’d pushed things too far. I reached for my healing, just in case. Only a moment went by before he visibly relaxed and merely glowered at me. But I could see the corners of his mouth twitching, and his eyes gleamed with humor. I smiled back, and resumed the conversation.

“Seriously, what is usual for the bride to give the groom?” I asked.

“The gifts exchanged are usually practical, and something that symbolizes the partnership of the couple. Household goods, weapons, armor, transportation, things like that.” Elder Evana leaned forward, elbows on the tabletop, looking earnest. “If a dowry is required, she would usually provide the basics of running a home, he the home itself, or often the other way around, especially if she’s a fighter too. I’d advise you to think about what the two of you need most, and if you can afford it, get that.”

“I have an idea,” I said slowly. “But I’m not the best at this sort of thing. But Bao Dur or Atton, or both, would help me.”

I explained, and all the Elders agreed it was perfect. I thanked them for their input and guidance, and went off to find my friends.

Predictably, I found Bao Dur at the workbench, building energy dampeners. I noticed little Danni nearby, playing quietly in a corner. Someone had made her a doll out of cloth with yellow yarn for hair. The yarn had somehow been coaxed into spirals, and I touched my own curls by reflex. I smiled at Danni, and she gave me a look back, not quite a smile, but the corners of her mouth definitely twitched upwards. She hadn’t spoken a word since Canderous and Bao Dur found her and Megari in the cargo hold. Her mother had a beautiful voice, now that the Iridonian had repaired her vocal cords, but she used it sparingly. I understood; it had only been two days since she came to this camp, and while as far as I could see she was being treated very well, it would take time for her to trust we meant her no harm. I was surprised she wasn’t here, for that matter. I looked around, just in case I’d missed her; the woman could come and go quieter than a cat.

“She’s taking a bath,” Bao Dur said quietly, seeing me looking around. “I said I’d watch Danni for her.”

“How is she doing?” I asked curiously. “I haven’t had much opportunity to talk to her myself, and she’s very reserved. I understand, of course,” I added hastily.

“Well,” Bao Dur said consideringly, “well enough, I think. She’s been through hell, that’s certain. But she’s not really broken; just battered. I’m sure given some time she’ll be all right. I just wish we could do more for her.”

“Like you said, give it time,” I said quietly. “You don’t get over things all at once. I wish Danni was more…childlike, I guess. But Megari has done a magnificent job keeping her as normal as could be managed. I hope I’m as good a mother some day. Has Danni talked at all?”

“She seems to, sort of, to Megari,” Bao Dur answered, a slight frown on his face. He was carefully pitching his voice low, so as not to be overheard by the child. His back was to her, so she couldn’t see his face. I glanced over, and saw the little girl look up at him, her face as close to a smile as I’d seen.

“She likes you, that’s for sure,” I said, smiling at her. She met my eyes for a second, then looked down at her doll.

“Do you think so?” Bao Dur asked. “I’ve worried that she finds me…frightening. Despite Megari being raised by Zabraks, Danni’s never seen one, as far as I know. Her adoptive grandparents died before she was born.”

“I can’t imagine anyone that doesn’t deserve it being afraid of you,” I said honestly. “Kids know that sort of thing. And she comes as close to smiling as she ever does only when she looks at Megari…or you. I thought she came close with me once, but I’m not sure.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said with some relief. “She’s a great kid. Almost too good, if you know what I mean.”

“I do,” I said. “But give her a while; she’ll be getting into things and…well, doing whatever three year olds do.”

“What were you like at three?” Bao Dur grinned.

“I don’t remember a lot of it; my parents told me I was precocious. Apparently, my Force ability kept things…interesting. Dad told me they once had to climb a huge willow tree. Apparently, I had learned early to jump high enough to grab the lower branches, and just kept going. According to my father, the chief distress I had was that I couldn’t fly like the bird I was following. He caught me just as I was trying to.”

“You’re kidding, right?” he asked, with a swift terrified look at Danni.

“Afraid not,” I said with a smile. “Don’t worry; I don’t think Danni is going to try that. Although…” I paused thoughtfully. “She does seem more in tune with the Force than most children.”

“You felt that too?”

“Yeah, I have. But hers seems more inward than physically inclined; if I had to guess I’d say she might have Seer talent.”

“Interesting. Maybe Visas could do some tests, if Megari and Danni agree. But not now,” he said quietly. “Once she’s used to us, maybe.”

“I agree,” I said easily. “And it might not come to anything; there’s lots of people Force sensitive that don’t need or take well to Jedi training. They’re powerful enough, but don’t experience many of the side effects of an unrecognized Force sensitive.”

“Like me?” Bao Dur inquired, interested.

“I suppose,” I said slowly. “I didn’t think of it like that, though. And you did become Jedi, eventually. As did Mira.”

“What about Atton?”

“Well, he did get training early,” I pointed out. “Even if he did turn to the Dark Side for a time. I think he’s one of those wild talents that needed the training, then got it twisted for a while. He probably would have been a much bigger danger if he hadn’t had the early intervention.”

“The more I learn about the Force,” Bao Dur said seriously, “the more I realize how little I really do know.”

“And that’s the first step to wisdom, Padawan,” I quipped, grinning. “Or so I’m told.”

He cuffed me lightly, and changed the subject.

“So what did you need, my tiny friend?” he asked teasingly.

I mock-glowered at him. I was the smallest adult in camp; he was the largest. Walking next to him, I didn’t even reach his armpit, and felt about Danni’s age. Even she looked as though she might get to be nearly as tall as Mira or Visas; already at three she was waist high to the Iridonian. Her father must have been a tall man, Megari herself was only middle height, which still made her considerably taller than myself. Bao Dur and I shared a friendly verbal sparring about weather differences and keeping up with the grown-ups.

“I want to get a ship for Canderous for a wedding gift,” I said. “I’m an okay pilot, and know enough about mechanics to not get cheated when my ship needed work, but buying a good one is a pain. I’d appreciate input from you and Atton.”

“Of course,” he said promptly. “When would you like to go look?”

“Well, we have a week until Trials resume. I thought an overnight shopping trip might work. Canderous would want to go, of course, but he’d agree to split off if I gave him a good enough reason,” I said. “Maybe in the next day or two? When will the energy dampeners be ready?”

“Oh, they won’t take long; give me another two days and they’ll be ready and tested.”

“All right, does three days from now sound okay?”

“Perfect.” He looked at me consideringly. “This is an expensive prospect, you know. Are you looking to buy new or used?”

“Probably good condition used. I can afford new, but why pay that unless you have to? A good ship will last a lifetime, so I hear. Besides,” I said with a flattering smile, “I’m lucky – I’m friends with the best mechanic and the best pilot in the galaxy. How could I go wrong?”

He snorted good-naturedly. “Flattery will get you nowhere.” But I saw the gleam of pride in his eye.

“But Lorna’s spice cake will get me at least a diagnosis,” I wheedled. “I saw you eat a whole one all by yourself at dinner yesterday.”

“All right,” he laughed, throwing up his hands in surrender. “Throw in a keg of Mandalorian ale and you’ve got yourself a mechanic.”
“Deal,” I grinned.

Megari came in then, her long brown hair damp and bound back in a braid. I was wildly envious; the tail nearly reached her waist. I briefly wondered how long it would take to grow my hair that long, and decided on the spot to at least let it get down to my shoulders. Between the hair, clear skin, beautiful bone structure and those gorgeous eyes, Megari was a breathtakingly lovely woman, even with her customary sober expression. I smiled at her, and she briefly smiled back. It transformed her from merely lovely to outright beautiful for a nanosecond. I heard Bao Dur’s breathing change, just for a moment.

“Hello there,” I said, my most friendly expression on my face. “How are you settling in? Everyone treating you all right?”

“Yes, thank you,” she said quietly. Her voice was a rich contralto, almost as compelling as Ladria’s but lacking the steel behind it. Ladria couldn’t help her tone; she had been a leader so long she rarely spoke without that authority behind her words. Megari had learned the hard way not to show her backbone; it could have gotten her, or worse yet Danni, killed. But even so, I could feel the strength in her, and admired it.

“I’m glad you chose to stay with us,” I said sincerely. “I’m sorry I’ve been a rotten hostess and not spent more time with you and Danni. I hope you’re enjoying yourself?”

“I am, rather,” she answered, almost as if she were surprised. “And you’ve been an excellent hostess. Danni and I are being taken care of very well. I thank you.”

“I noticed some clothing was found for the two of you. We don’t have much by way of female amenities here, I’m afraid. But we’re going to go up to Onderon to purchase some supplies and personal shopping in a few days. We’ll stay the night, make a couple days of it. I hope you and Danni will join us, or if not, allow me to purchase what you need, if you’ll give me a list?”

“I’d be glad to come along, it would be lovely to have more than two sets of clothing, and get Danni some things as well. Not that everyone hasn’t been generous,” she said hastily, wincing as if I might scold her.

“I know just how you feel,” I said with a smile. “Two weeks ago, all I had was the clothes I was wearing, the credits in my pouch and no way to apply one to increase the other. I didn’t even have a weapon. Everything I owned had been blown up when a couple of bounty hunters tried to kill me by tossing grenades into my apartment. I met Canderous that night in a cantina – remind me to tell you about that some time when Danni is napping – and he took me to the Ebon Hawk. If it hadn’t been for Ladria and Mira being generous enough to shop for me, I’d be in rags right now. As it is, I still only have, let’s see, maybe six changes of clothes, not including workout gear.”

Megari smiled, a genuine one that lasted longer than a microsecond. “It sounds like you’ve had quite an adventurous life. I’d love to hear about it sometime.”

“Oh, don’t get me started; anyone around here will tell you I’m a chatterbox. You might regret asking me to talk,” I grinned at her.

“I don’t mind. It’s better than having someone rant at you, pretending manners while they think of some new psychological terror to use on you. Falken Rikes was a genius for scaring one with a word,” her tone was matter-of-fact; no pity or self-loathing or fear; just plain acknowledgement of what her life had been.

“How can you be so calm about it?” I asked wonderingly.

I was scanning her psyche and finding none of the shattered pieces that usually would be there after the year she’d lived through. There was no sign of insanity either, which might account for the calm. Her aura, when I checked, was brightly blue-white, with some bitter yellow mixed in that indicated outside trauma, and the usual amount of red. I saw one black slash that almost pulsed; she had killed, and it ate at her. Who, I had no idea, but I was willing to bet it was in self-defense. She was firmly on the side of Light, and had a reasonable sensitivity to the Force, though not enough to be Jedi. Danni, when I looked, did. Her aura, like most children, was brilliantly white, almost no red at all, but it was lightly streaked with the yellow she shared with her mother. Her Force sensitivity almost glowed, and I resolved to speak to Megari about it soon.

She looked at me now, her expression calm. “I made up my mind when we were taken that no one was going to take away who I was, or Danni was. For her sake, I kept faith that we would escape somehow, and that no matter what they tried, when we got out of there, it would be as whole as when I got there. To keep them from harming my child, I was obedient, and everything they wished. They never understood that they never really touched me.”

“Not even Rikes?” I wasn’t doubting her perception, or trying to bring up bad memories. But Rikes had struck me as extremely intelligent, not as easy to fool as you might think under the arrogance. He’d had a full year to observe Megari and her daughter. On the other hand, if he had regarded her as nothing more than booty he may not have looked much closer.

“Rikes was intelligent, but arrogant with it,” Megari echoed my thoughts. “He enjoyed toying with people, and frightening them. I simply made sure I wasn’t much of a challenge. He thought I was simple-minded and biddable, so scaring me wasn’t much sport. He left me largely alone,” she said quietly.

“That was very brave, and smart of you,” I said softly. “I couldn’t have done it.”

“You could, if you had your child to think of,” she answered, shrugging. “And you’re a trained fighter. I am not,” she added.

“I’m good, but eighty against one... I couldn’t have fought my way out, especially if I was protecting my daughter.” I smiled, a little coldly. “I’m glad Rikes is dead. I just wish you could have been rescued sooner,” I added regretfully.

“Things happen for a reason,” Megari said with a fatalistic shrug. “I am grateful we were found at all.”

“You’re an amazing woman,” I said sincerely, and I saw Bao Dur nodding at my words.

“No,” she said simply, shaking her head, blushing faintly. “I am a mother, that’s all.”

Danni had abandoned her corner and reached up for her mother, who picked her up and rested her face on her child’s soft flyaway brown curls. She made little fffft sounds in the little one’s ear, and Danni giggled. I smiled at the sound.

Three days later, a rather large group headed to Onderon for the shopping trip. Bao Dur volunteered to stay behind and look after Danni, and help set up the enlarged battle circle with the energy dampeners. Megari, somewhat to my surprise, seemed serene about leaving her daughter behind. Not that anyone who knew Bao Dur for ten minutes wouldn’t trust him with their life, entire fortune and virgin nubile daughter, but I thought it was amazing she was willing to leave Danni in a Mandalorian camp. Tentatively, I asked her about it, and she merely smiled.

“I have been among you almost a week, and have been treated with the utmost kindness and respect. No one would dare cross the Mandalore, or you. And I’ve seen even the meanest looking warriors there treat Danni with affection. She’s become quite a favorite. Besides, if anyone even looked at Danni wrongly, Bao Dur would rip their arms off and beat them to death with them,” she said with a mischievous grin.

“You’ve got that right,” I said, chuckling. I marveled at the change in Megari over the last five days. She had gone from a quiet, rather grave person to someone with a lively intelligence and sense of humor. She was still on the quiet side, but much less so. Her manners were as perfect as Visas’ or Disciple’s, but under that she seemed to be regaining her sense of whimsy. I was glad to see it.

The rest of the party consisted of Canderous, Ladria, Atton, Mira, Dax, Kex, Xarga, Kelborn, Visas, Zuka, and Tagren. We had decided to bring the honor guard so that both Canderous and I would be escorted at all times. I had insisted, wanting to take no chances. Jarxel stayed on Dxun as second in command. I had conferred with Bao Dur before leaving and he had assured me that short of a completely blown engine, he could repair any ship I found. Even in that case, he could still fix it, he just wouldn’t recommend me buying it in the first place. In the mean time, Atton could help me just as easily, and Bao Dur felt that getting the battle circle up and ready was a higher priority. I agreed. Atton promised that he’d run any repairs that might be needed by Bao Dur before we committed to buy.

We were a happy little group, chatting away on the short trip to the main planet. We docked, paid our fees and collected the visas, and headed toward the shopping district. As I emerged from the docks, I heard my name being called and turned to see who had spoken, a quizzical smile on my face, expecting Atton or Dax to address me. I caught a blur of brown robes out of the corner of my eye and suddenly several things happened at once.

I was picked up and whirled around, engulfed in a warm and familiar embrace, a voice babbling in my ear.

“Thank the Gods you’re alive! Jennet, I was certain you were dead, I’ve been looking everywhere for you…”

The presence was ripped away from me, and I was suddenly on my feet, dazed and blinking, Canderous in front of me, his blaster out, his other hand having just shoved me behind him. I looked around his wide shoulders and saw Kex and Kelborn restraining a handsome man of middle height and age, bearded, fair hair slightly mussed, in the robes of a Jedi Master. He looked startled, and was starting to be angry. Dax was behind me, blaster also pointed at the Jedi, the other hand protectively on my shoulder, and the other guard members all had the drop on him. I blinked again.

“Wait!” I shouted, and everyone froze. “Let him go,” I said to Kex and Kelborn, and they looked at Canderous briefly, who was glancing over his shoulder at me quizzically. I sent a brief thought and his face tightened, but he nodded at his men, and they released the Jedi.

“Hello Stefan,” I said brightly. “Sorry about that.”

At first glace, Stefan Tai’rhi looked exactly the same as the last time I saw him. He stood somewhere between Mira and Megari in height, but was so well proportioned he seemed taller until you had some way to compare. His bright golden hair was still on the short side, though not as short as any of the Mandalorians, and his moustache and beard, a couple shades darker in color than his hair, were neatly trimmed, encircling only his mouth with his cheeks clean shaven. But on closer inspection, the smile lines around his eyes were cut deeper than I remembered, and there were more hints of silver among the gold at his temples. One pure white streak was on the left side of his chin, making an interesting contrast in his beard. Most telling, his blue eyes, the color of a perfect summer sky, had a troubled and wary look, as if they had seen too much.

Then he smiled, and all the little changes disappeared for a moment. The dimple in his right cheek flashed and his eyes went from watchful to warm. He held out his hands to me. I came forward and took them, smiling back, glad he was alive. He kissed both cheeks, and more familiarly, my forehead, then set me back to look me over.

“Jennet, darling…I’m relieved you’re looking so well. I’ve been on the move for the last year when the Jedi murders started…” he glanced around, noting the four Jedi accompanying me and stopped, confused. “I assume you know about that?” At my nod, he looked again at my companions, then wider to include Megari, Canderous and the honor guard.

Everyone was silent, glancing between me, Stefan, and Canderous. The Mandalorians looked suspicious and wary, the rest of my friends puzzled and full of questions.

Canderous was utterly blank.

Stefan smiled at the assembled company in general, dropped my hands and took a decorous step back.

“But how rude of me,” he said easily. “I was so pleased to see you I barged in on your friends. Stefan Tai’rhi,” he bowed to everyone, and canny as always, offered his hand to Canderous. The swift look to me said he had not missed the protective stance of the Mandalorians, and Canderous in particular.

I had been trying to talk to Canderous mentally since I told the honor guard to back off, but he was blocking me entirely. The very blankness of his face told me how thrown he was by Stefan’s sudden appearance. He stared at the offered hand for a long moment, and I was absolutely certain he was going to refuse to shake it. But just short of utterly rude, he clasped it briefly, wrist to wrist, blue stare hard but not yet hostile.

“Canderous Ordo,” he rumbled, not quite growling. “I am the Mandalore, and these are my men.” He gave their names. Each man nodded shortly, still wary but all weapons were now holstered.

I introduced the rest of the party, and Ladria smoothly came forward to ask Stefan what he knew about surviving Jedi. Stefan gave her a considering look.

“I know who you are, of course, Ladria Windbreak,” he said slowly. “The Exile. I was not one of the council, but I was part of the preliminary discussions. If it makes a difference, I lobbied to commute the sentence from exile to in-house restriction.” His eyes were sober.

“Not incarceration?” Ladria asked with a gentle smile.

“No,” he answered seriously. “You didn’t really go over to the Dark Side, you know. You were just lost for a time. Perhaps, in the end, the council unwittingly made the right choice?”

“Perhaps they did,” Ladria said thoughtfully. “I didn’t, always. I’m still not sure of just how responsible I am for the rip in the Force, or its mending. But whatever the cause, whoever is to blame, it’s done. Everyone has paid a price.”

“The Jedi in particular,” Stefan agreed. “We can only move forward now.”

“Agreed.” Ladria looked at him gravely. “There is some business left here, but afterwards I am going to go to Dantooine and see about rebuilding the conclave, and finding any survivors. The Sith are still a threat; I consider that Jedi responsibility.”

“Absolutely.”

I had been listening to this exchange with half an ear. The rest of me was trying desperately to contact Canderous. He was resolutely blocking me, his face still giving nothing away. I touched his arm, wordlessly trying to get him to talk to me. He looked down at me, gave a small tight smile and relaxed infinitesimally. I smiled back. Then his face tightened again when Stefan spoke.
“Jennet, may I have a private word?”

I turned and tried to glare but it failed woefully. I sighed, and nodded.

“Of course.”

We moved away from the group, Kex, Dax and Kelborn staying near but out of earshot. Stefan eyed the three large bodyguards, a speculative look on his face.

“Do you want to explain the escort?” he asked gently, quirking an eyebrow at me.

“Not especially,” I said honestly.

He stood at ease, a trick I knew he used when a situation was unknown. I smiled sadly. I was relieved and pleased he was alive, and remembered all the reasons I had fallen in love with him. He was still charming, sophisticated, intelligent, and genuinely caring about the people around him. He also could be ruthless and cold if need be, but then so could I. He was complex, kind, powerful, not at all pompous as so many higher up Jedi become, and only occasionally arrogant. I had good reasons to love him.

I knew I’d always remember our time with fondness. I was glad for the memories. What gave me the most happiness now, though, was knowing that this extraordinary man had always believed in me, and always will. He and my parents gave me the best gift of all: a happy childhood.

He was Uncle Stefan again. And my stubborn, irritating Mate wouldn’t let me in so I could show him that. Men.

“Why were you trying to find me?” I asked abruptly.

He looked a little startled at the question. “When the Jedi murders had escalated to the point the Council fled, I went into hiding, as did most surviving members of the Order. We all kept on the move, trying to keep in touch secretly. It didn’t work very well,” he said with a depreciative grimace. “I was on Onderon shortly after this happened. I know you well enough to realize you would have already left. It took some time, but eventually I traced you to Nar Shadaa. The trail went cold from there. Your ship crashed, and I knew you’d survived that, but that planet was in chaos two weeks ago. The Exchange decimated, the Hutt dead. I learned that you had been on both the Exchange and the Hutt’s hit list for at least a month. All evidence indicated you were dead. But I didn’t really believe it.”

“So you came back to Onderon?” I asked, trying to follow his thought process.

“I figured it was the one place you’d come back to eventually. I knew you had a lockbox still, and the last traces of Miranne and Drake were here. I was hoping to leave you a message at the bank. I do have the other key you know, and access to the box.”

“I’d forgotten about that,” I said with a small smile. “All right, I know how. But you didn’t say why.”

“From the look on Canderous’s face, I’d say it doesn’t matter why, now,” Stefan said gently. “You’re alive, and someone loves you. Better than I could, I think.” At my startled look, he said quietly, “I am Jedi. I checked auras. His and yours…well, it’s nothing like I’ve ever seen before. I can’t give you that. I think maybe I always knew it, or I would never have let the Council bully me into leaving you.”

“I hated you for a while,” I said, smiling. “I got over it, though.”

“I was never good enough for you,” he said seriously. “I never made you my first priority, and I allowed you to make me yours. I told myself when I left it was to protect you, and largely it was. But I think I knew even then we were building a dream on a cloud with no real foundation.”

“It was a nice dream,” I said sadly.

“You have a better one now,” he pointed out. “You were wiser than I, and fought it. I was the ruthless bastard that broke down your wall.”

“If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been ready when I met Canderous,” I said, and grinned. “So thank you for being such a jerk.”

“You’re welcome, my lady,” he grinned back, a little sadly. “But tell me…are you happy?”

“Oh yes,” I said, and my smile widened.

“Then I’m glad. But really, Jennet…a Mandalorian?” He looked more bemused than disapproving.

“He’d kill you slow if you ever let on I’d told you, but he’s a softie, really,” I said with a laugh. “At least when it comes to me.”

“Well, it’s all right then,” he touched my cheek. “When is the wedding?”

“About a month, I think,” I answered. I wasn’t surprised he’d deduced that much; Stefan had always been good at reading people. “As soon as the Mate trials are over.”

“Mate?” He looked startled at that. “Well, it explains a great deal. I’d heard of Mandalorian Mates, but thought perhaps it was a myth.”

“You had?” It was my turn to be startled.

“I didn’t join Revan and Ladria during the wars, but the Order learned as much about the Mandoa as they could at the time. It was a footnote in one of the histories we’d uncovered. But it’s interesting that it seems to be true.”

“Oh, it’s true,” I said, a little more forcibly than I had meant to. “We share thoughts, and fighting ability…it’s amazing, really.”

“I’d love to talk to you about it sometime. But now, if we don’t rejoin your party, I suspect your Mate will tear me to pieces. Has he listened in?” he asked curiously.

“No. He’s been blocking me since I told him who you were.”

“Ah. Well, let’s go put his mind at rest, shall we?” He offered me his arm, and I took it.

We walked back to the group, who were chatting quietly. Canderous stood, arms crossed, utterly still. I disengaged from Stefan and went over to him, standing on tiptoe to kiss his shoulder. He wouldn’t unbend enough for me to reach his cheek. I understood, but wanted to kick him anyway for his stubbornness.

“Mandalore,” Stefan said formally, “You are fortunate in your Mate. And she, I see, is fortunate in hers. I understand congratulations are in order?”

Are you sure, Wildcat? Came his thought, and I resisted the urge to elbow him sharply.

Yes, you big jerk, I thought back, with an inward smile. I let him feel that there was no deception, no regret. I felt him relax, and offered a hand to Stefan.

“Yes, thank you, Master Stefan,” he answered, just as formally. “Will you join us when we set a date?”

I was surprised at this, and sent him a suspicious look. He smiled.

Don’t think too much of me, Wildcat. I’m honest enough to admit I don’t mind rubbing his face in it some.

I schooled my face so the laughter wouldn’t show.

“If I can, I will, gladly,” Stefan said with a brilliant smile. “You can reach me by my personal datalink.”

He gave the information to Canderous, Ladria, and the rest of the Jedi present, promising to keep in touch. An invitation was extended by all to join us in the shopping trip, but Stefan refused charmingly, saying he had business elsewhere. I barely managed to contain a sigh of relief. I was relieved Stefan had escaped the Sith Jedi hunt, and he would always be family. But right now, I was simply glad to have had some closure.

“I will try to find the rest of the surviving Order,” he promised Ladria. “When you’re ready, we’ll meet at Dantooine. And Jennet…do think about training,” he turned to me. “I know that as the Mate of the Mandalore you will have much to do, but I can see your progress has likely exceeded even my estimation of your talents.”

“I’ll think about it. I have been thinking about it, in fact, for a while. I still don’t know how I feel about it. And we have a lot to do; we’re trying to gather the Mandoa survivors,” I had finally gotten Canderous to unbend enough to allow me to slip my arm through his. He placed his free hand over mine and smiled down at me, then looked at Stefan.

“I’ve left it up to her about Jedi training,” he rumbled. “She’s needed with the Mandoa, yes, but the Sith are a threat to us all. I know her strength and talent, I’ve not only seen it, I’ve lived it, through her.”

Stefan nodded, and we wound up the departing pleasantries. All the proper things said, Stefan bowed again at everyone, and left. I turned to Canderous.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning down to kiss my cheek.

He’s a lot more forgiving than me; I would have beat the shit out of him, or, more likely, challenged him for you. He just stands aside and is glad you’re happy.

He’s a good man, I answered. But more than that, he knows a hopeless battle when he sees one. He saw our auras and knew that he stood no chance anymore.

It’s just…he didn’t fight for you. This time, or against the Council. I’m not sure if that makes him better, or just an idiot. I wouldn’t have let you go without a fight. There was a pause. I vote idiot.

I gave an inward laugh. Maybe. I’m just glad he’s alive for you to fret about.

I’m not fretting.

Sure, I thought skeptically.

I don’t fret. You fret. I brood. And snarl.

Of course.

And glower, he said, demonstrating.

I laughed, and kissed him, and he grinned back.

Canderous

Meeting Stefan had thrown me. I would rather spend a few hours in Falken Rikes’ charming torture room than admit out loud that my hostility toward him wasn’t so much righteous indignation for hurting Jennet as it was fear I’d lose her. He was everything I wasn’t – handsome, sophisticated, educated, charming. I hated him on sight. My first impulse was to go ahead and shoot him out of hand, for hurting Jennet, and for just breathing. He represented a whole world that I couldn’t give her. If she chose to become Jedi, I couldn’t follow.

I had blocked her out of instinct, to protect myself, and because I didn’t want her to choose me from pity or obligation. When I finally let her back in, I knew that I had won fairly, even if I itched to challenge him and prove it on the field of battle. Not having that option rankled. I doubted I would like Stefan Tai’rhi much under any circumstances, but for Jennet’s sake I wouldn’t be hostile. I did privately hope he wouldn’t be visiting often.

She chose me you bastard, I thought with satisfaction, and banished the Jedi from my mind.

After Stefan left, we headed to a hotel near the palace where had commed ahead for reservations. Taking care of checking in and dropping off luggage, we split the shopping party into two groups. I took most of the honor guard with me, leaving Kex and Dax with Jennet, Megari and the Jedi. We all agreed to meet back at the hotel early evening.

It was still only mid-morning, and the weather was hot. I don’t like being without armor much, but I was glad to not have its weight on me. As always, I had an energy shield strapped to my wrist, as did everyone. We were all armed, of course, but that was nothing unusual. Kelborn and Xarga were flanking me, Zuka slightly ahead, Tagren a few paces behind. Being surrounded, even by my kin, makes me uneasy but I had agreed with Jennet that it was best to be cautious. I was still berating myself for my carelessness before.

We visited the grocer’s to check on the delivery date of the foodstuffs I’d ordered, and followed that with a building supply broker. I had a list of supplies and services needed to build our house that Bao Dur, Zuka, Jarxel, Kex and I had composed. Two hours of bargaining and a near brawl later, we came to terms. I had done my research, and wasn’t going to be cheated simply because he was the most convenient merchant available. The broker was a tough son of a bitch and I admired his guts, but he eventually saw the wisdom of being fair. Suggesting I might find it an advantage to invest in a rival brokerage and set up shop on Onderon, plus a few veiled, more physical threats made him come to his senses. It wasn’t a bad idea either, and I made a mental note to look into the possibility.

We made a brief stop at the jeweler’s to pick up Jennet’s ring, and a longer one at the electronic supply to secure shipment for household computer and appliance goods. The last stop was the financial district, where I was pleased to find many of my investments had paid off even better than I had expected. As was my habit, I reinvested half of the profit, with the other half more than adequate to pay the balance of the building project. I made arrangements for the merchants to be paid, and we headed back toward the hotel.

My errands hadn’t taken all that much time, and I had four or five hours to kill before I expected Jennet and the others back. I considered catching up to them; I could track Jennet easily enough. But I hate shopping, and I knew she was looking for a wedding gift for me, and would prefer it was a surprise. She hadn’t said so, but I had caught that much off her thoughts. As I was about the house, she was keeping her idea carefully buried. I was sure she wouldn’t welcome me right now, and didn’t want to risk spoiling her fun by checking mentally. I could ask her if it was safe to join her easily enough, but likely what she was up to would be on the surface of her thoughts, where I could pick them up. She wanted badly for whatever it was to be a surprise.

I decided that now was as good a time as any to try and contact Carth Onasi. I wanted our initial conversation to be private, anyway. I would ask Ladria, the Elders, Jarxel, and Jennet to be present for the official negotiations, along with whomever Carth or the Republic wanted there. Assuming, of course, there were any negotiations.

There was little love lost between Carth and me. I respected the hell out of him, and he was a good fighter. He also had the balls to love one of the most feared, brilliant, and deadly warriors in centuries: Revan. Anyone who earned the trust and love of a former Sith Lord has my admiration. During that mission, once Carth got over his irritating soul-searching conflict over Revan, I found myself actually liking him. I was pretty sure he didn’t return the compliment.

If there was any attitude that needed clearing up before official negotiations started, I wanted it between us, and no one else.

When the original Ebon Hawk crew parted company, each of us took along a personal datalink that only had the other seven members’ access codes programmed in it. It had been Mission’s idea, and I unaccountably had not wanted to crush her feelings by refusing mine when it was offered. I was pretty sure the others were sincere in wanting to keep in touch with each other, and equally sure they didn’t want to keep in touch with me. But the irrepressible teenage Twi’lik had somehow got to me. Not enough to have actually used the datalink, but I had continued to keep it on my person, and make sure it was in good repair. I had carried it so long I had almost forgotten about it.

When I had hooked up with Ladria and her crew, I had tried to reach Revan, Jolee, Ju’hani, and Bastila, to see if they had escaped the Sith hunt. I had not gotten an answer. That didn’t necessarily mean they were dead, though. I sincerely hoped all of them were alive, even Bastila, for all her arrogance and snobbery. I was certain trying to contact Revan again would be useless; if Carth didn’t know where she was, no one did. Ladria had told me of her conversation with the Admiral before we’d left for Dantooine; I was sure that if she had any clue where Revan was, she would have told at least Onasi, if not me.

I took the small device out now, and punched the code for Carth Onasi. I was not surprised that I didn’t make contact right away, and wondered if he even kept it with him. I tapped in the access codes to the hotel, sent a message to the front desk that I be contacted immediately on my comlink if I got a call, and headed down to the gym, the honor guard at my heels.

I was showered, dressed and was almost back to my room when my comlink buzzed. A minute later, I was staring at Admiral Onasi. He looked tired, and the few gray hairs at his temples had become broad wings over his ears, but otherwise, he hadn’t changed much. He wasn’t smiling, but then neither was I. Neither of us tried.

“Carth,” I said with a nod by way of greeting, “I hear you made Admiral. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

He was silent for a moment, studying me as well as he could with a few light years of space between our computers.

“Canderous Ordo,” he said finally. “Of the seven that have that code, you were the last I expected to ever use it. What’s on your mind?”

“Business,” I answered briefly. “But first, have you heard from any of the others?”

“Most of them, yes,” he answered. “I took Mission with me when we disbanded, and Zaalbar went back to Kashyyk. She wanted like hell to stay with the Wookies, but politics there were dangerous, even for one that had the life debt of the Chieftain. She visits now and then, but they are adamant that no off-worlders are allowed beyond her or the other members of our party.”

“She’s doing well, then?” I asked.

“Yeah. She’s a bright kid, finished her primary education in a year, and took university by storm. She got a degree in mathematical engineering. She’s like a daughter to me. In fact, she’ll be one soon. Her and Dustil are marrying next year.” He smiled at that, and the years dropped away from his troubled face for a moment.

“I’m glad to hear that,” I said sincerely. “And the others?”

“They’re alive,” he said shortly. “I can’t say more than that.”

I understood, and nodded. Transmissions can be intercepted, and to give away the location of three powerful Jedi would be foolish. We had purposely avoided mentioning any other names.

“Still no word…?” I let it hang, and he shook his head jerkily.

“None. I understand you travel with a mutual friend…?” he eyed me quizzically. “I spoke to her a month or so ago.”

“Yeah. Nothing here, either.” I saw his eyes close for a moment and added, “Sorry.”

“Yeah, well, what do you do?” He said tiredly.

Having a greater understanding now of another person being your whole world, I sympathized with that look of near defeat. I found myself wishing I could give him news that took that look away. I squashed it, knowing he wouldn’t accept my condolences anyway, let alone believe they were sincere.

“I have news, and a proposition to run by you,” I said abruptly. “It would be better to talk on a more secure frequency about that, later. When would be a good time?”

“Hold on,” he said, and cut the connection. I waited, and a few minutes later, the comm buzzed. I answered, and Carth’s face was back on screen.

“This transmission can’t be intercepted without some serious hacking. Not that caution isn’t a good idea, but safe to say we won’t be overheard,” Carth said briskly. “Now, why have you really called?”

“I’ve spent the last five years collecting the remnants of my people, and taken the Helm of the Mandalore,” I said.

Carth nodded. “I’ve kept tabs on everyone as best I could,” he said. “I heard there was a new Mandalore. I was concerned about it until I found out it was you.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I growled. I wasn’t surprised he knew already, with his position and connections. But I didn’t like his tone.

“Nothing. Just that even though we don’t get along particularly well, I respect you. If the Mandalorians are banding under a new leader, I’d rather it be you.” He quirked an eyebrow at me and smiled coolly.

“Well, thanks,” I grumbled. He gave a short nod, and I continued.

“There’s close to 6,000 that we’ve found, and we want to colonize Dxun. I offer a trade to the Republic – 2,000 trained fighters at your disposal against the Sith, in exchange for transport, building supplies and services to build our colony. And a guarantee we will not attack the Republic again.”

“We already have that guarantee without helping you,” he answered stiffly. “Scattered, your people aren’t much of a threat.”

I squashed the urge to roar at him, because he was right. Instead, I said levelly, “True. But we’ll colonize eventually without your help. If you take advantage now, we both benefit, and as allies, you’ll find us loyal. I won’t guarantee we’ll be stupidly obedient – we don’t play that well with others. But under my rule, you will have no trouble, plus a well armed and trained battalion in your fight against the Sith. We recognize that threat as well as you do.”

He nodded slowly. “The idea has merit. I suggest we have a few meetings and hammer out a workable plan before I bring it to anyone else’s attention. Are you willing to play the Hero of the Republic card?”

“I am,” I said shortly.

“That would help,” he said thoughtfully. “I can get away in a few weeks to discuss this further. Where can you be reached?”

“I’ll have my datalink with me at all times,” I answered. “And I’m transmitting my codes for my base on Dxun now.”

I looked at him, and grinned. He started at that, and looked wary. “Three weeks would work fine,’ I said casually. “Jennet would love to have you at our wedding.”

His reaction was splendid. His eye went wide with astonishment and his mouth dropped open, his face changing from wary to incredulous. I stifled a chortle at making him lose his cool.

“Wedding?!” he sputtered. “You’re getting married?”

“Yep,” I said, unable to keep from grinning. “Her name’s Jennet Jax.”

“Jennet…” he mused. “That name sounds familiar. Wait…I had a report a week ago about a Hutt being killed on Nar Shadaa, and something about the Exchange…that Jennet Jax? Nothing in the report said she was Mandalorian.”

“She’s not,” I said, almost gleefully, waiting for the next reaction. “And I’m willing to bet the reports are not exaggerated.”

He sat back abruptly, running a hand through his hair and trying to get his face back to an expression of cool interest. “Let me get this straight. You, the Mandalore, are marrying a non-Mandalorian woman that blew up a Hutt?”

“That’s right,” I said smugly. “You should have seen her, she was magnificent.”

“I’m almost afraid to meet her,” Carth said sardonically, and I scowled.

“Watch yourself,” I growled.

“I’m sure she’s very nice,” Carth said diplomatically, and I suppressed the urge to laugh again. I deliberately chose not to enlighten him about Jennet’s temperament. This was going to give me private entertainment for ages. I couldn’t wait until he actually met Jennet.

“She is,” I said sincerely, but with a look that suggested ‘nice’ to a Mandalorian wouldn’t necessarily match his definition. I almost spoiled the moment with a bark of laughter when ever so faintly he flinched.

Enough fucking with his head, I told myself, and sat back. “Seriously, I would consider it an honor for you to attend my wedding, Admiral Onasi,” my tone was quiet and absolutely sincere.

“Make it ‘Carth’ and you’ve got a deal,” the general said, clearly surprised at my change of attitude, and willing to meet me halfway.

“Thanks…Carth,” I said.

I looked at him consideringly, and thought about what Jennet might do, and how she would talk to him. I knew I’d never make much of a diplomat, but if I can keep things to my advantage, I could get along well enough. But in this case, I actually liked the man, and knew he didn’t much like me. That was fine, I didn’t really care, but it was important to my people that we get along. So I took a slow breath and eyed Carth, trying to come up with the right way to say this.

“I know we have our differences,” I said with difficulty. “I just want you to know that I’ve always respected you. I consider you an honorable man, and a good fighter. It was a privilege to serve with you.”

He gave me a long, assessing look, clearly surprised. I met his stare calmly. He sat a little straighter and gave me a small smile.

“Revan always said there was more to you than met the eye. Maybe she was right,” he said slowly. “I’ll admit I’m wondering what brought this on. You never seemed to consider me more than a ‘Republic idealist with a Jedi ‘saber up my ass’ is how I think you put it?” His gaze was faintly mocking.

“Yeah, well, you made Admiral, so you likely still are,” I said with a touch of a bite.

Unexpectedly, he laughed. “Now I’m sure it’s really Canderous I’m talking to.”

“Look, Carth, things are changing, and I’m not a fool. My people have spent fifteen years with no direction or identity. We change with the times, or we die. I choose to live, and I’ll do what it takes to see my kin survive too. There’s no shame in being honorable allies with the best chance for the universe to have balance. I’ve made no secret that I think the Republic is overly bureaucratic and often corrupt, but most of you try to do the right thing. The Sith…they’re brilliant, ruthless, and ferocious, but would choose to enslave or annihilate. That’s not conquering, that’s genocide.”

“I agree,” Carth said readily. “Careful, you might show some idealistic tendencies. Not to mention you’re all but saying you’ll join the fight regardless if we help you or not.”

“I might personally,” I admitted, “But my kin will not, without me. This isn’t a threat, it’s plain fact. We’re too scattered for me to effectively rule right now. But if the Republic helps us colonize, we can be a real help.”

“That is a well thought out argument,” Carth said, his diplomat hat on. “You have my attention, and for what it’s worth, I believed you from the start. You’re a hard-assed son of a bitch, General Ordo, but you’ve always been honest.”

“Thanks,” I said sincerely.

He laughed again. “I hate to admit it, but I’ve missed having you around. I usually didn’t like what you had to say, but I could count that it was sincere. Revan likes you; that should tell me something.”

I refrained from pointing out that Revan liked me partly because of shared darkness; it didn’t seem the best time to bring it up. I settled for a diplomatic “I like her too,” adding “I hope you hear from her soon.”

Carth looked tired again, but gamely gave a wry smile. “Me too.”

“Well,” he said briskly, “I’ll see you in three weeks. Give my congratulations to your bride. I’m looking forward to meeting her.” He sounded professionally sincere, and I stifled a snicker.

“Will do. And Carth…thanks,” I said.

“You’re welcome,” he said simply, and cut the connection.

I sat back, meditatively staring at the blank screen. An important step had been made toward reuniting my people, and giving them a purpose. I hoped Carth had enough clout to make this work.

All in all, it had been a strange day so far.