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ladyofleithianDisclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Notes: Not sure if I got the politics of Mandalore right. Feel free to correct me if I got them wrong.
Even now, returning to Mandalore was almost odd. Even descending on Mandalore, Satine mused, at least on their first day, was almost like seeing a ghost. If only slightly stranger. Not that she minded. It was good to come home, to see that the Prime Minister was at least doing his best to try and rebuild. And with Obi-Wan...
It had been a long while since she and Obi-Wan had seen one another. And if anything, he seemed to have become quite formidable -- not quite a Master yet, but on the way to becoming one.
And yet at the same time...
“Are you all right?” Even now, watching one of Mandalore’s sunsets with Obi-Wan, Satine doubted that she’d ever felt more at peace than she did now. And Obi-Wan’s voice, casual, comforting, familiar -- even now, that helped.
“I am,” she said, softly. “It’s simply...odd to be home.”
“Still?” There was a hint of teasing in Obi-Wan’s voice, though.
“Yes,” Satine said, laughing slightly in spite of herself. Then she grew more serious. “I should be back on Coruscant. Helping to prevent an army of the Republic.”
“I know. Don’t worry,” Obi-Wan said, “I’m certain my Padawan will be able to deal with it.”
“You really think so?” Not that she doubted Anakin. At the very least, his intentions were good, even if his experience was uncertain, to say the least.
“Of course.”
Satine smiled, and they went back to watching the sunset, enjoying this small moment of peace, away from politics and plotting and war.
***
Kamino.
Even now, drawing up towards it, Anakin could not help but be awed by its beauty, its danger. The seemingly perpetually storm-tossed seas were quiet and calm, and yet even now, bringing the ship in for a landing, he could not help but feel oddly unsafe. A stranger on a strange planet. And to be fair, that was nothing new, but even so…
What if it’s a trap? What if the slicer left the navicomputers untouched to lure me here?
R4 beeped, almost as if picking up on his partner’s distress.
“Don’t worry, Arfour,” Anakin said, gently petting the droid’s dome. “I’m all right. Just a bit nervous.”
Even now, taking a deep breath and assembling his “professional Jedi face” (he learned it from watching Obi-Wan. His master was an astonishingly good negotiator, really), Anakin headed off towards the clean, disturbingly sterile city of Kamino with R4 in tow.
Perhaps it was being so used to the less-than-clean-and-tidy (to say the least) alleys of Mos Eisley (and other places), but something about Kamino’s cleanliness (to say the least) made Anakin feel uneasy. Everything seemed too bright, and not even in a pleasant way – if anything, it looked about as welcoming as a medic’s waiting room.
R4 beeped nervously.
“Don’t worry, Arfour,” Anakin said. “We’re just going to get the necessary information and then leave.” At least I hope.
Even now, the sinking feeling in Anakin’s gut, the feeling that this was a trap, would not subside.
And Anakin hated it.
