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The last thing Obi-Wan had expected on this assignment to protect the New Mandalorian Dutchess, was to fall in love with the True Mandalorian Prince, and True in more ways than one.
Following a near miss on Korda 6, Mand’alor Mereel had picked up traction and battered Death Watch. The New Mandalorians had held fast to their ill-gotten titles, including working with Death Watch in an attempt to use the Jedi to destroy the Haat Mando’ade, but that crisis had been averted. Mostly.
He'd been sent to infiltrate the Haat Mando’ade for information by his Master, to pretend to be a new recruit, abandoning the pacifist New Mandalorian ways for the True Mandalorians and despite wanting to run for years, wanting to escape the hell his padawanship had become, he’d never expected this to be the answer.
Yet here he was, in the Mandalorian Prince’s bunk, curled up and, for the first time in years, he felt safe.
A hand ran absently through his hair, and another was settled on his hip, content merely with the closeness, and sleep was beginning to pull him under.
Was this really his solution? Was this really his escape? Would they continue to accept him, continue to extend the olive branch, when they realised that he had been raised a Jedi?
No, probably not. But he found he didn’t particularly care. He was the safest he’d felt since the creches, and the freest he’d been too. For the first time in years he was loved and if he had to choose between a short time of this then death, or Force knew how many years back there, it was no choice.
Master Jinn wasn’t like other Masters, he didn’t love Obi-Wan like other Masters loved their padawans. Like he’d once loved Xanatos . No, he was never good enough, never fast enough, never strong enough or smart enough... and when he failed, Masters, he had supposed, had every right to withhold food if their Padawans weren’t behaving, or weren’t up to the tasks. Every right to punish his mistakes when he failed. He was just a failure in a way his friends weren’t, he’d justified. Master Jinn had just been trying to protect him from the darkness, and trying to make sure he was safe.
Tahl had been tortured and blinded, then killed. Xanatos had fallen, Feemor had left for the outer rim so long ago they’d never even met, Dooku had practically withdrawn from the Order.
Master Jinn merely wanted to make sure the only member of their family left was safe, or so he’d lied to himself in the worst nights as he wrapped bruises and nibbled hidden ration bars.
He no longer believed those things.
He rolled in his half-sleep, ending up with his face nestled between Jango’s head and shoulder.
He'd missed being happy , he’d missed being safe.
The thought was striking as it came, but he knew it to be true.
He wasn’t leaving Mandalore.
He wasn’t going back.
.
.
.
For a New Mandalorian, Ben was alright.
Who was Jango kidding, Ben was Haat’ad through and through, and he’d fallen hard.
He adored the way Ben’s face lit up, his passion to help others, the Mandokarla fire in his eyes. He adored Ben’s strength, hidden by an honestly delicate body, and his determination. He adored that Ben was just genuinely good. He adored Ben’s sharp political mind and the way he could tear an argument to shreds effortlessly. He adored the way Ben could match him in a spar, knock down Verde far bigger than him and then shed his armour and sink into Jango’s arms and relax.
But tonight, Ben wasn’t as relaxed as usual, and kept turning, sleep clearly evading him as thoughts fan through his mind, something Jango had seen often enough. Ben had a darker past, haunting memories that shook his hands and lingered into the nights, though what it was Jango couldn’t guess. Combined with the dreams he had, the nightmares, he knew sleep could be difficult, but usually his presence kept the darkness away.
Not tonight, it seemed.
Jango held him close as he rolled again, tightening his arms as Ben pressed his face into his neck.
“It’s late, mesh’la , stop thinking, sleep.”
“I’m never going back.”
It caught him off guard, but only for a split second.
“No, no you never have to go back. You're one of us.”
“I’ve missed being safe.”
Sleep was taking Ben's voice, so much so that he wasn’t willing to ask more, but kriff he wanted to. What had Ben meant by that? He shook his head slightly, pressed a kiss to Ben’s forehead, and decided it was something for the morning.
He was going to keep Ben safe, he was.
Ben was safe and sleeping soundly in his arms, and so he let himself drift off too.
The next morning, the thought had not left his mind, and as they donned their armour, he summoned the courage to ask.
“Ben, what you said last night. You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to, ever. You're safe here.”
“I know, I'm just... still getting my head around the idea.”
“You said you’d missed being safe...?”
“I haven’t felt like this since before my mother died. After we lost her, my father, he... I miss the man he was, the man she made him. But we lost both my brothers, my grandfather, my mother, I was all he had left, and I tried so hard to be enough, Jango. I tried so hard, but I was never good enough, and I didn’t make up for what he’d lost.”
Jango's hands shook at the words. It wasn’t a child’s job to make up for what a parent had lost, it was a parent’s job to make up for what the child had lost. And after losing so much, Jango understood loss well, but Jaster had always been there as comfort and support, he’d never forced expectation on him, never punished him for not being good enough.
Ben had so many scars, so many scars he would not explain, and Jango couldn’t help but wonder how devoted to non-violence some New Mandalorians actually were for someone so young to have scars like these. When Ben had first arrived, he’d been so thin, Jango remembered counting his ribs with a finger as Ben had slept in his arms the first time.
Demagolka and dar’buir , that’s what Ben’s father was.
Ben was never going back to that.
“I’m sorry. It's not right and it’s not fair. But you’re part of our clan now, and we look after our own.”
Jango meant it, and looking down to the last clasp on his armour, he missed the flash in Ben’s eyes.
.
.
.
Jango caught Ben as he stumbled slightly, having been shouldered by another recruit passing them who turned to walk backwards in front of their group
“I don’t get it Ben, you do know you left the pacifists?”
Ben rolled his eyes, but didn’t rise to the taunt.
“There’s a difference between pacifism and wanting to help others. Believe me, even on humanitarian missions, you want to know how to defend yourself.”
“Oh really?”
“When I was 13 my buire and I went on a humanitarian mission taking relief to a warzone that had finally called for a ceasefire, food, medicine, blankets. All we wanted to do was help, but... the ceasefire didn’t last, we were caught in the middle. War... war is horrific and, truthfully, there’s no glory or power when you stand in a street littered with rubble and bodies, puddled with blood of adults and children alike. Everything I know about blasters, about real combat, I learnt there. If I'd known better how to defend myself and others... I will never be that helpless again, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to continue doing those things, freeing slaves, helping refugees. My mother always believed that if she could help people, it was her duty to do so, and so I will do the same.”
Jango remembered what Ben had said about losing his mother, had she died in that warzone, caught between two peoples who she had nothing to do with, just trying to help them? Had he seen her die, just trying to save others?
It sounded as though his buir had been Mandokarla , through and though.
But while he was musing where Ben got his spark, Myles had focused on another part of his tale.
“ Kriff , Ben. You were in a warzone at 13.”
“Hey, my traitor ori’vod kidnapped me and sold me into slavery when I was 12, I may have been raised for peace and pacifism, but I've seen some of the darkest parts of the galaxy.”
“12?”
“It was a busy few years.”
His tone was light hearted, bus his voice trembled. Jango had never been so glad for the late meal whistle to blow than he was a few second later, the rest of the group dispersing, leaving the two of them alone.
“Go on ahead, I'm not particularly hungry.”
Ben made to walk away, and Jango clasped his wrist, turning him and drawing him into a hug.
He didn’t speak, neither of them did. It was enough on it’s own.
That night they did their remembrances together, and he sent his own silent prayer to Ben’s Tahl for the gift of a person Ben was.
.
.
.
Class was one of the best things about the mission, Obi-Wan had decided, beside of course the people and the food. He loved to learn, the language, the history, the combat.
But some things left him with doubts and questions he had to voice.
“Forgive me, Ba’ju, but you say that as though all Jetii are automatically bad.”
“The Jetiise are trained for very young, brainwashed. It is not their fault, necessarily, but that does not excuse that what they do is wrong.”
“But to condemn every one of them?”
“Have you ever met a Jetii, Ben?”
“Yes, it was a Jetii freed me from slavery when I was young. And it was a Jetii who saved my mother after she was kidnapped and tortured. I know that there are bad Jetii , awful ones, and I have met some of those too but some of them are kind and brave and honourable.”
Their trainer seemed thrown by his reply, but it was the truth.
“Tarre Vizsla was a Jetii .” Silas added, and he was glad to have some backup on this. He hadn’t meant to start something, or do anything that might raise suspicion, but there were so many good Jedi who weren’t like Qui-Gon or Master Krell or... There were brave Jedi like Tahl.
He missed her so much, but there were moments where he would swear he could feel her in the Force, guiding him still.
Besides, if all Jedi were automatically evil, what did that make him.
“I suppose that’s true, and as you said, not every Jedi is a complete monster, but you should not let your guard down near them. They can be exceptionally cruel. as for Tarre Vizsla, he chose to leave the Jetiise to come to us, he was not a Jetii and a Mandalorian. He escaped that life, left it behind, and came to us once he was free.”
He had hope.
He had a chance.
.
.
.
Master Jinn’s call shattered the illusion he’d allowed himself to build.
He couldn’t stay, he wasn’t safe, who had he been trying to kid?
In the end, he had to return to the Jedi, to his ‘real family’ and to his duties.
A Jedi did not seek personal joy above the lives and livelihoods of others. There were other people to save, and if he died saving them, he could only hope the Force would welcome him peacefully.
The wind brushed his shoulder like a gentle caress, even with his beskar’gam on, and for a second Tahl was there, shaking her head, face pained and lined with disappointment . Then the wind passed and she was gone.
“Ben, what’s got you so jumpy?”
He and Silas were on guard duty, out on the western wall, and he was jumpy. Tonight was the night Qui-Gon was coming. He wasn’t surprised Silas had noticed; his friend could read emotions from body language better than some Jedi read them in the Force.
His friend... ha, some friend he was. He'd been lying to them, spying on them, and now he was running like a coward.
He had so many regrets.
But he couldn’t bear to see them suffer for his mistakes, couldn’t bear for even one of them to die for him. He had to leave, to keep them safe.
“Sy, if you had the choice to be safe and happy, but it came at the cost of other people's lives, would you take it, or would you save those people and put yourself in danger?”
“I don’t know. I think it depends on the situation... where is this coming from?”
“I... I've tried to leave my aliit before. I want to, but last time... it was so bad. I'm going to have to go back, but I'm scared.”
“Ben, what are you talking about?”
“I... I was sent here to spy but I agreed to come here because it was a way to try to escape. It was a way out. I cut my communications and everything. But he found me, and he’s coming, and I told him where I was so he could pick me up so no-one else would get hurt, but I'm scared. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to go back to that.”
To his credit, Silas processed it immediately , and didn’t hesitate in his heartfelt response.
“Then don’t. We can fight Ben, there are seasoned verde here. If you know who’s coming...”
“It’s too late. And I don’t want anyone getting hurt on my behalf.”
“We’re vod, Ben. I won’t let you fight alone, none of us will. Jango definitely wouldn’t. We want to fight. We want to protect our own.”
“It’s too late. I already told him where I was, we’re out of time. He's already here.”
.
.
.
Jango had no idea what he’d done. Everything had been going so well, and then Ben’s whole demeaner had just shifted. He'd become withdrawn, quiet once again, and asked for a night guard shift.
A second shift, meaning he left their bed at midnight.
And so Jango was left alone in his bed at just past one, longing for Ben to return to his side.
There had been something so... Ka’ra he couldn’t explain it, so conflicted, when he’d said goodbye and hushed for Jango to go back to sleep. It had felt normal, and he was sure it had looked normal, but there had been this quivering tension in his body under Jango’s hands as they’d lain together, and the smile hadn’t met his eyes as he’d said goodbye.
His eyes, the last time Jango had seen so much emotion in someone’s eyes, it had been the day he lost his first buire . The love, genuine and true, but also the fear and the apology and the deep regret. Jango couldn’t understand what had put them there.
Maybe it was tiredness, maybe Jango was overthinking it.
It was hardly the first time one of them had taken a second night shift, hardly the first time one of them had tried to leave the bed without waking the other, but he couldn’t get the look of his eyes out of his mind.
There had been something final in Ben’s goodbye.
He shot up at the realisation , not a second before the alarms started blaring.
It was a learned skill to have his armour on in three minutes, but three minutes did not feel quick enough as he darted down the halls towards the western wall.
Ben had been on the western wall.
Oh no, oh no no no.
Ben had dreams, nightmares, Jango had first thought, but sometimes, it felt like he knew things. Mandalore had many seers, many people whom Manda gifted foresight to, and he’d been wondering if Ben was in their number.
His trying to leave unnoticed, the regret and grief, what had he seen...?
His chest was tight as he burst out onto the compound’s outer wall, towards the guards already gathered.
He saw Silas first, the other person on patrol, one of his closest friends, prone against a wall, eyes unseeing.
Chest moving.
He was still alive.
The baar’ur pushed past him to Silas’ side, and though he wasn’t reacting as they worked, they did not seem too panicked.
Ben!
Where was Ben?
There was no other body, and he was not among the standing. For a few awful seconds, Jango was tempted to look over the wall down that great fall to the barren earth below, but in those few seconds, Rui Laret, one of the guards who had come running, approached with Ben’s buy’ce.
They knew the place Ben held in his heart, knew that if all went the way Jango hoped, Ben would be his riduur one day, and that one-day Ben may become their Alor’riduur .
They approached with caution.
“We heard the fight, Alor’ad , but by the time we got here, it was too late.”
“Ben?”
“He was taken. The verde who perused were all injured or killed. They got away.”
Taken?
Why would someone take Ben? Why take only Ben?
Could so many people truly know they were Cyare’e, had Ben been taken to get to him?
He paused, bending and brushing his glove over a scorch on the wall edge.
He knew these marks.
“ Jetii .”
The worlds were a growl.
A Jetii had taken Ben.
A Jetii , one of the monsters from his dreams. He remembers what Galidraan could have been, he remembers what the Jetiise could do.
They had his cyare.
“What happened here!”
Buir.
He spun, standing to attention, as did many of the verde on the wall.
Al'verde Nova, head of the Guard, stepped forward.
“Alor, there’s been an attack. Two fatalities, 12 injured, one missing.”
He felt more than saw his Buir’s gaze find him, holding his cyare’s buy’ce, looking lost.
He saw his Buir’s stance shift, knew well enough the pain and panic that flashed through him before he replaced the veneer leadership required.
“Make sure the city is secure, I want a full report.”
.
.
.
“Jan’ika.”
“Buir?”
“You should try to get some rest.”
“I can’t rest. Not while he’s in the hands of a Jetii . Not until he’s safe.”
“Jango, please.”
“They took Ben. Why would they take Ben? To harm him, to get to me?”
“I don’t know, but it means he’s probably still alive. We can find him.”
“Why just him though, why do whatever it was they did to Silas? I don’t understand.”
“The Jetii get on well with the New Mandalorians, I think there are one of two protecting Adoni’s dar’manda daughter. Ben was from a New Mandalorian clan, maybe someone paid for him to be taken back. I wouldn’t put it past some of them.”
That was a worse thought, though his Buir could not have known it when he said it. If there was one person he wanted further away from Ben than the Jetiise, it was his buir .
“He hated it there. He belongs with us.”
“He does, and we’ll get him back.”
He trusted his Buir, trusted the deep conviction in his eyes, the strong stance he held himself into, but Jango couldn’t shake the fear.
He'd promised Ben would be safe with them, he’d failed so spectacularly.
“Alor, they have the footage.”
They both turned to Al’verde Noza and followed her.
Time for answers.
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.
.
Jaster watched the security footage silently, listening to the audio recorded by the boys’ buy’ce cams in perfect clarity. Finding one of his recruits in a temporarily catatonic state, and nothing but the buy’ce of the other, had been awful.
The buy’ce of the man he knew his ad was courting...
Now he’d learn the truth of what had happened.
On the holo, Ben and Silas tensed, Ben first, Silas following, raising their weapons for something.
“We need to get help, Ben.”
“Go, now.”
The man landed on the fortress wall silently, and instead of leaving, Silas turned back to the fight, unwilling to let his friend fight alone.
The man didn’t seem to care much for Silas’ presence, focusing only on Ben, who took half a step back but held his weapon high.
“It’s time to come home, little one.”
Home? Little one?
“No. I... I'm not going back, not with you. I'm not leaving.”
There was real fear in Ben’s voice, and it was disgusting. No-one so young should ever be so scared, especially not of someone that, if he was reading the situation right, was his buir.
Dar'buir , if Jaster had anything to say about it.
To his side something snapped in Jango’s hands, and if he wasn't so focused on the footage, Jaster was sure he’d see grief and guilt on his ad’s face.
“No? You want to be here, with them? You think you’ll be safe here? Safer than being at home, where I can protect you.”
“You’re the one I need protection from.”
“There is such evil and darkness in this galaxy, it will do everything to destroy you. I want nothing more than your safety, little one. It’s all I've ever wanted.”
Part of Jaster didn’t believe it, but a darker part made him wonder if it was true, but in a deluded and twisted way. If this shabuir really thought he was protecting his ad?
“He said,” Silas growled, “he’s not going anywhere with you.”
The boys moved slightly closer together, getting ready for the fight if Ben’s dar’buir didn’t leave. The fight he already knew was coming.
The dar’buir pulling a lightsabre was expected, given the burns left behind, but both boys were so young to be going against a jetii.
They were lucky to have survived, if Ben was still alive.
If he died here, on this footage, he knew something in his ad would break. Belatedly, he wondered if he should have watched this first, but it was too late now.
The boys were wearing beskar , not pure, but strong enough to aid them and they knew how to fight, and, if he had to guess, the child of a Jetii would also be a Jetii, so Ben would know how to fight the shabuir better than Silas.
He watched the Jetii make a move and Ben throw himself into the fight, pushing Silas out the way of the strike, catching it with his armour and deflecting it away.
Both boys lost hold on their basters quickly but Ben managed to wrestle the lightsabre away from the shabuir, falling into a clearly practiced stance.
Ben was a Jet'ika .
“You don’t want to fight me, little one.”
“I will if I have to, Master Jinn.”
Ben threw himself into the next attack, but Jinn was clearly the more skilled fighter, evading the blows and eventually catching and twisting Ben’s wrist until the sabre fell out of his grip into Jinn’s, scoring a deep line along Ben’s chest plate and leaving the boy back to chest in the man’s grasp.
“You bring injury upon yourself, fighting me, little one. You don’t need to fight me.”
“Yes! I! Do!”
From behind Silas had recovered his weapon and began shooting at his back. The Jetii had to release Ben who managed to throw the sabre aside, but Jinn threw something too.
Paint covered them and the fight restarted. Both had to toss their buy’ce aside to see, to keep fighting, and that was the final mistake.
The Jetii had access to their minds.
He used it.
“Don’t interfere.”
Silas froze in place, a distant look on his face.
A mop and bucket slammed into the back of the Jetii’s head from behind, thrown by Ben.
“Stay away from him!”
They hadn’t been anywhere near him though.
Ben had used the Force.
It was one thing to guess, another entirely to see.
The Jetii, the adult one, growled and his eyes flashed and Ben dropped to the floor, screaming, clutching his head.
“Wha... Ben? No. Stop! Stop hurting him.”
“Don’t interfere. Be calm.”
Silas stopped again, slumping against the wall, the very position they’d found him in, and the Jetii retuned his attention to Ben, still writhing and crying out.
He dropped to Ben’s side and the screaming stopped.
“Oh dear one, why are you fighting. I don’t want to hurt you. It only hurts because you’re fighting me, padawan. I'm trying to protect you.”
“You’re trying to protect me.”
It was horrific how lost and sleepy and wrong Ben’s voice sounded. It wasn’t his voice, or rather, wasn’t his thoughts.
“Come on, little one, we’re going home.”
“We’re going... no. No! Get out of my head!”
The boy went from laxed to kicking and fighting like a switch had been flipped, but the Jetii had him pinned.
He placed a hand on Ben’s head, and the boy couldn’t shake it off.
“Relax.”
Ben went limp again.
“I only want what’s best for you, dear heart. I want you safe. I couldn’t protect your brother; I couldn’t protect Tahl, I will save you. I will protect you.”
“You’ll protect me.”
“Yes. You're safe.”
“I’m safe.”
“We have to leave now. Sleep. I'll take care of you.”
Ben slumped completely in his hold, fast asleep. The Jetii lifted him off the ground and placed him in the speeder, before they shot off into the night. Guards made it to the wall as it shot away, some taking flight after them, but they were too late.
The holo ended and Jaster wished he had something to punch or crush.
“Ben... was a Jetii?”
“It makes sense. His reflexes, his strength and speed. And remember the questions he asked, whether all Jetii were evil or if some could be good. He was trying to get away from the Jetiise. Trying to escape their brainwashing and that demagolka.”
While Myles and Kal’s comments had been said with uncertainty, Jango’s voice was nothing but determined.
“We have to rescue him.”
Jaster wasn’t overly surprised by his ad’s statement. Since Ben's arrival, Jango had fallen head over heels in love with him, and while learning he’d been lying about who he was could have been a blow, in this case it seemed as though it had strengthened his resolve. His friend had been trying to escape an awful situation, and Jango refused to let him suffer any longer.
Jetii or not.
His ad was right too.
The way the Jetii had changed the thoughts in Ben’s head, forced him into compliance, it was evil. No Mandalorian would stand for it, and he was the Mand’alor .
His people would follow his lead.
His culture was open for anyone who wanted to join it, that included Jetii who broke through the brainwashing of the Jetiise and tried to escape them. Ben had come to them, asked for Cin Vhetin , sworn the Resol’nare .
He was poised to be Jango’s Riduur, and Jaster had no doubt that when asked, Ben would have said yes, Jetii mission or no.
As far as Jaster was concerned, one of his own, one of his clan, had just been kidnapped, and they were going to get him back.
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.
.
After the security footage had finished, Jango had found himself sent to bed.
He was 19, and yet he’d been sent to bed.
He didn’t know what he was supposed to do, he could not sleep, not with his bed empty in this way.
Not with Ben in the hands of that monster.
He looked down at the bed, at the rumpled half from where he’s shot up, and the smoothed half, neat as when Ben had slipped out.
He sank onto the neat side, it was closest, and something slipped down the cover and brushed his leg.
A data chip.
Jango, Cyare, ne ceta.
You have no idea what you mean to me, what your kindness has done to me.
Your love, you gave me joy, you gave me hope, you gave me back my chance to actually live and enjoy life. In your arms, I felt safe.
I’m so sorry.
My story, the one I told you, all I told you, was true, except I am not New Mandalorian, I am Jedi. But Master Tahl was as close to a mother as I could ever had, my padawan brothers should have been as close as my brothers, and Master Jinn should have been my father.
Master Jinn, Jango, he’s coming to find me.
I may have been sent to spy, but I stopped months ago. I loved it here, I haven't been this happy since I was a child, and I doubt I will ever be so happy again. You cannot understand how much your just loving me has meant.
Master Jinn has demanded my return, and I was perhaps foolish to believe this could last. That I could just leave them, become Mando’ade , be yours. It was a childish dream; I see that now. He will not let me leave, he will not let me run away, and he will kill to get to me. I can feel it, I have seen it in my dreams.
I will not let blood be shed for me.
I will go willingly.
I love you Jango. With all my heart.
We will see each other again, in this life or the next.
Ben.
Ben had... planned to go willingly to save them. Stupid, selfless, beautiful Ben.
He let out a sob, and buried his face in his hands.
.
.
.
“ Jan’ika , I’m here.”
Jaster sank onto the bed, wrapping his arm around his sobbing child.
“I promised he was safe, buir , I promised he’d never have to go back to his dar’buir . I failed.”
He held his child close, let him cry. Jango was 19 not 9, but 19 was still so young, and this loss, Jaster could only imagine how painful it was.
“I wish he’d trusted me with the whole truth, buir . I know why he didn't , but I wish he had.”
“We’ll find him, Jan’ika. He came to us, he’s one of us.”
“He said he was never going back, but he asked for his shift to be changed, he... he left an apology... I don’t understand.”
“He left a note?”
“He’d been sent here to spy, but he stopped early on, cut communications , until one a few days ago. His dar’buir told him he was coming. He believed he was going to be leaving one way or another, and chose the way he hoped would be the most bloodless for us. He was going to sacrifice himself for us.”
“Silas said something similar.”
“He’s awake?”
“That’s what I was coming to tell you. His first question was about Ben, if he was ok. Silas was the one who convinced him to try to fight, to try to stay.”
“What do we do?”
“We get him back, ad’ika . We get a lead, and this demagolka learns why Mandalore should be feared.”
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.
.
They found Jinn’s ship in a port on the other side of the planet, a New Mandalorian favoured place.
They'd cleared the ship, all the main rooms, they’d found Jinn, although he’d run off as soon as he’d realised he couldn’t win, leaving his ship behind in the docks.
Did Jinn have somewhere else, a hotel room or stop in that he was holding Ben in, or was Ben still on the ship somewhere?
They needed to check everywhere.
They did check everywhere, but they couldn’t find him, and Jango was starting to lose hope.
Had Jinn stashed him somewhere else, he wondered, or kriff, lost his temper and beaten him to death? Was Ben already marching on without him? Jinn favoured the New Mandalorians, followed the dar’manda Kryze like she was the best and most righteous being in the galaxy. Would Jinn try to marry Ben off to her.
His stomach rolled at the thought.
He sunk onto the bed in Ben’s room, trying to work out what he needed to do next, clawing at the hope he had left.
He knew it had to be Ben’s room, because some of Ben's things were scattered around.
Then there was a thunk.
Several thunks.
Oh Ka’ra, please no.
He practically flew across the room and smashed the button that opened the cupboard.
“Jango?”
Ben sounded completely disbelieving.
“Oh Ka’ra, Ben. Are you ok?”
“You... came to find me?”
“Of course. You're my cyare. They took you, of course we were coming to get you back.”
He was going to kill Jinn when he found him, Jango decided, as he helped Ben out from the cupboard he’d been locked in, pulling the bindings from his wrists.
Had he tried to escape or had it been some sort of punishment.
“Up you get, come on.”
Jango took most of Ben’s diminished weight as he moved him to the bed.
“Buir, I found Ben. Can I get a baar’ur to...”
The door slid open and Baar’ur Qest was there.
Damn she moved fast.
“...me please? Ok, Qest’s here.”
She got to work checking him for injuries quickly, and Jango took a second to observe his beloved properly.
He was pale, dehydrated, underweight. He knew Jetii could last longer than normal people in certain situations and couldn’t help but wonder if Ben had been in there since Jinn fled with him, had he had food, water?
Worst of all his eyes had traces of the same glaze he’d seen in Silas’ eyes, and in the security footage.
The glaze that said someone had been in his head, telling him what to do.
It made him feel sick.
“Dehydration, malnutrition, lots of bruising, we can fix up these ribs.”
“A lot of it was psychic. Not physical.”
Ben's voice was flat and small as he said it, and Jango squeezed his hand.
Of course. The same way he’d made Ben drop and scream on the wall, hurting him without touching him. Cruel and evil and something Jango could do nothing to stop.
“Do you know the range, Ben? How close he has to be to do it?”
“He... he doesn’t have to be close. I don’t know how far before it doesn’t work though. And I can’t break the bond. I don’t know how.”
Kriff.
Until Jinn was dead, he was a threat.
“Ok, Ben, we’ll work something out. Is there anything you know of that I can do to help?”
Ben's eyes glazed again, “I don’t think so.”
It was everything he had not to swear aloud, and from the way Baar’ur tensed, she’d seen it too.
His buir showed up in the doorway, and part of him wanted to run into his arms. This was the sort of thing he’d been told as a horror story when he was a small child, but part of him hadn’t believed it could be real.
But it was.
Silas slipped past him to run to Ben’s side and he decided Ben was in good enough hands and company to talk with his buir.
They settled in the main living area with Myles and a few other super-commandos.
“How is he?”
“Alive, exhausted, Baar’ur Qest is checking him over now.”
“Where did you find him, we searched the ship?”
“He was in the cupboard in his room. It was locked from the outside.”
He made no attempt to hide his anger as he spoke. From the way it rippled through the room, none of them were worried about it either.
Those in the room who hadn’t been part of the training camp had been briefed. He'd been worried that those who hadn’t known Ben would be blinded by their prejudices against the Jetiise , but fortunately all they’d heard was abused child and trying to escape the Jetii and had won Jango’s heat in the process, and had decided rescuing him was top priority.
Ben wanted to leave the Jetiise and join the Mando’ade, and for them, that was enough.
Enough to be righteously furious.
Ben was almost his ven’riduur , this could be seen as a declaration of war, and he knew his Buir was weighing up the costs and benefits of acting on said declaration.
“Find Jinn, search the port, search the city. Bring him here, alive if possible, dead if not.”
The verde saluted and left, and Jango was left alone with his buir.
“Jan’ika, ad, what’s really wrong?”
“We asked if there was anything we could do to help with the pain and before he said no, his eyes glazed over the way they did on the holo , the way Silas’ did. These mind control commands, they might be permanent?”
“We don’t know that, Jango. It could be that they’re strong because they’ve built over time and they’ll fail once he’s separated from the demagolka, and even if they are, we’ll find a solution, we’ll help him.”
“We can’t even ask him how to help; his eyes just glaze again.”
“ Jan’ika . He will be ok. We'll figure something out.”
Jango nodded, not entirely sure if he believed it, and returned to his cyare’s side.
.
.
.
“Mand’alor Mereel.”
“Jetiise.”
“It has come to our attention that you have one of our padawan’s captive. We would see him returned to us as soon as possible.”
“My people do not hold any of yours captive, Master Jetii.”
“And yet our evidence points to the contrary.”
“You misunderstand, Jetii, he’s no captive. He requested asylum, and we granted it.”
“Asylum? Why would a Jedi ask for asylum in Mandalorian space?”
“I suggest you investigate your demagolka Jinn if you want answers. As for Kenobi, I have granted his asylum. As far as we are concerned, his is a citizen of Mandalore , of Clan Mereel . In fact, Jinn’s removing him forcibly from our home could be seen as an act of war, be content in knowing that I have chosen not to act on it at this time. We will continue to hunt Jinn for his crimes against Mandalore and the Mandalorian throne, and know that if you test us again, we will respond properly.”
Jaster gave them no time to respond, hanging up the call immediately after speaking.
Jaster rounded away from the table and into the next room, where his ad and ven ad’riduur were curled together.
Things weren't fixed yet, but that did not mean there were not good things within the darkness.
And the wedding would be glorious.