Chapter Text
Remembering a time before the mines was hard, being constantly surrounded by the stench of burnt flesh and the musk for hundreds of bodies clumped together in a small space. A space definitely not big enough for how many people were in here. It had been such a long time since Obi-Wan Kenobi, child of no one, no clan, had seen the sun. Felt air on his cheeks, or felt anything from the force.
He didn't know how long it had been, he had nothing to reference from to know what time it was. Being kicked out of the order at twelve was hard, just seeing and feeling the Master's disappointment had made it hard to breathe. Even now, stuck in the mines of Bandomeer, Obi-Wan tried not to think about it. Couldn't think about how he had failed, always failed no matter what he did. When those little thoughts trickled into his dreams, when he did dream, it was always the what-ifs. What could he have done better if he could go back, if he could go back to a time when he didn't have a bomb collar strapped to his neck, go back to a time when his stomach didn’t cramp from the lack of food. If he had just worked harder on every test, even if it cost him his sleep. Because at least he still would have been in the temple. Not stuck on some backwater planet, forced to mine at granite all day, just to go hungry when they were given a break.
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Being brought out of a fitful sleep by a kick in the side was not his favorite way to wake up. When he didn't get up quick enough he felt a little zap go down his spine, he flinched. Trying to stifle any noises, he had learned early on that noises just brought more pain, he scrambled up.
Keeping his head down, as to not anger them more, he was pulled along towards the door of his cell. Blinking his eyes as bright lights passed by, he was dragged by a hand in his hair. Down too many hallways and through too many doors, they finally stopped in front of a door. Blinking, Obi-Wan tried to catch a glimpse of something, a name, anything. But too soon he was pulled through the door and into an opulent office, shelves stacked to the ceiling, covered in artifacts and bones.
Before he can react, Obi-Wan is pushed to his knees. They were already bruised, so the pain had worsened. Mind reeling, Obi-Wan pulls himself up, sitting back on his feet. He looks up to see Xa- The Master. He freezes. no not again please not again i already told you everything plea-. Obi-Wan feels a hot pain spread through his face, his head pulled to the side by the force of it. The Master had slapped him. Obi-Wan tries not to react outwardly. He makes his face blank, his eyes lose focus as he stares into space. Just don't react it doesn't hurt if you don't react.
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Jaster woke up to his komrke beeping, sitting up to grab it. He flipped it over and turned it on. The message was from Kal Skirata: Jaster you better get your shebs to the bridge. We have an incoming transmission from Jettise’yaim. Jaster got up more quickly at that. The Jettise? What did they want with us? He rushed to put on his armor, feeling the urgency in his bones.
By the time he got to the bridge, all of his commandos were in the room. Some looked like they had just woken up, others looked like they were about to fall asleep. As Jaster walked into the room, the conversations lulled, everyone turning to him and raising their fists to their bes’karta. “At ease, verd’e. Kal” The man jolted when his name was said. “Bring up the message.” He reached for the holotable, bringing up the message from the Jetiise.
The holo came up with a dark-skinned man. He open his mouth, “Mand’alor Mereel, I am Jedi Master Mace Windu of the Jedi Order on Coruscant. I am calling for your aid in helping one of our own. One of our younglings by the name of Obi-Wan Kenobi, has been taken by a darksider. We only have so many resources to find him, and we fear that it will not be enough to save him. Please, get back to us as soon as you can. Use this number to contact me.” The Jedi, Mace Windu, signed off with a bow. The transmission blinked out, and the room was silent.
Obi-Wan Kenobi, what a terrible name for a child. What the ad must think of that name. “What will you have us do, alor?” Walon Vau spoke up, the rage in his voice barely tampered. Jaster thought for a moment, at a loss for words really. Why did the Jetiise need our help? Jaster ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “Let me contact this Jetii Master Windu, find out what other information he has on the ad.”
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When the comm connected, Mace Windu was surprised to see a Mandalorian. He thought it would at least be a little while before he heard from anyone in the Mandalorian sector. “Jetii Master Mace Windu, I have received your message. I was surprised that you had reached out, knowing our peoples' long history with each other."
The man, Jaster Mereel, had his helmet off. Revealing a scarred face, a crooked nose from being broken too many times, and kind eyes. He is actually quite attractive. “Yes, I understand it is quite a shock but I have been left with no other options.” Mereel’s face hardened. “My fellow council members refuse to acknowledge that Obi-Wan is even a slave. My hands are tied, legally.” Mace sighed, his headache had been getting worse since Obi-Wan had been kicked out.
Mereel was quiet for a moment before he spoke, “I am inclined to believe you, despite what are peoples’ have done to each other in the past. I have always strived for a better Mandalore and that includes better relations with the Jettise. What other information do you have on the ad?” Mereel’s harden face had softened some as the conversation had transitioned to the Initiate. “Obi-Wan is 13 years standard, his birth planet is Stewjon. He has bright red hair and blue eyes.” Mace closed his eyes for a moment. “I know, based on my own research, that Stewjoni are highly sought after by slavers. To leave him to the wolves would be a tragedy that I cannot let pass.” Yoda and his meddling have gone too far. “To endanger a child is not our way, just as I know it is not yours, Manda’lor.” Mereel’s face had hardened over the course of the conversation, he looked down-right murderous now. Though he had every right to be.
“Thank you for the information, Master Windu. We will see to it that Obi-Wan is found and brought to safety. If he chooses not to return to your order, we will gladly have him adopted into the Haat’Mando’Ade.” Mace felt relief wash over him, to know that Obi-Wan will have a place to go if he does not wish to return to the Order. He felt a pang of sadness at that thought, that one of their brightest students in the classroom and in the force, would not wish to come back. “I thank you Manda’lor, I had hoped that you would be kind enough to not just receive this message but be willing to help one of our own.” Mace gives a nod and a slight smile to the leader of the True Mandalorians. “ I will leave this comm link open if you have any questions or updates on the situation. Please do, by the way, keep me informed on the situation. I feel that my involvement in this will be crucial in the future.” Mereel nods, a smirk on his face. “We will definitely keep you updated, Jetti. To good hunting, Mereel out. Oya.”
And so it begins.