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Obi-Wan had been caught up in the moment. That’s how he changed his life forever. Was it a mistake? He didn’t know, he just knew that he didn’t regret it.
He was the King of Stewjon’s youngest son with five older brothers, so he would never be heir, and he’d known exactly what that meant. Not that if he had been higher up in the line of brothers it’d make much difference, but still, it meant that once he had turned the age of majority his parents and their advisors had begun to search for a suitable match for him. His would be a political marriage. It was a nightmare. He’d been long taken by the idea of romance as depicted in the holobooks he spent hours reading, and had dreamed of falling in love without the restraints of titles and wealth.
Perhaps that had been why he’d been so petty one evening at a masquerade he had attended. He had met a masked stranger who spoke with an accent he didn’t recognize, and with the alcohol in his system, he’d been swept up in the stranger’s company. Dancing the night away and slipping out into the courtyard for some fresh air.
Their masks never came off, but tucked out of sight in a shadowy alcove, they certainly had lost all decorum. Obi-Wan holding back his voice as the stranger thrust their cock up into his heat until their passion spilled out, leaving them to quickly clean themselves up and rejoin the party with no one the wiser.
Of course, Obi-Wan had been caught. Not right away, but the coupling had been…successful. His pregnancy made itself known, and he knew he couldn’t hide such a thing forever. The marriage his parents had been working so hard to set up with some Count from another planet they hoped to ally with fell through as the Count, older in his years, didn’t want a ‘used’ spouse, or to raise a child that wasn’t his own. Furious, his parents disowned him and exiled him from not just their family, but their planet.
So he’d set out with only a single bag of his belongings, and a baby on the way into the wider galaxy to try and build a new life where he could support himself and care for his little one. Selling the valuables he’d packed had helped for a time, but he needed an income and a safe place to lay his head at night.
He ended up on Nar Shaddaa as that was as far as the people who had given him passage off Stewjon had been willing to take him without further payment. He’d found a job in a casino and a very small, very run-down apartment he had to share with a few roommates, and he took on being called Ben, as the name Obi-Wan stuck out too much and grabbed the wrong kind of attention on a moon dominated by questionable people. He wasn’t a pleasure worker, but his pretty looks and a high-class sounding name made high ranking mafia members not care. Keeping his head low with a more common name like Ben helped him go about his work day without too much trouble.
When the time came, he gave birth to a beautiful baby boy that had to look like the masked stranger. The boy didn’t look anything like Obi-Wan, but he was beautiful, and Obi-Wan fell in love with his son instantly.
He named him Boba.
The casino he worked at luckily had a daycare he could drop Boba off at while working. It helped a lot since he didn’t have to pay for it, and it wasn't a problem if they had him work overtime, which often happened.
He was working overtime again, the shift manager had pulled him aside and informed him as much, so he was still in full uniform, bringing drinks to guests in order to loosen their purse strings further. He balanced his tray on his fingertips, weaving between tables and slots with practiced ease, delivering drinks and pocketing tips.
Once his tray was empty he headed for tables that seemed to be full of new guests, asking for any orders.
One sabacc table was surrounded by Mandalorians in full armor, so he hurried over with his best flirty smile. Mandalorians always tipped well and tended to respect his personal space. He was always happy to serve them.
“Evening, Mandos, can I get any of you something to drink?” A few placed an order and Obi-Wan winked as he left to go get their drinks.
He could feel eyes follow him as he did so. It wasn’t uncommon, his uniform was designed to entice, though less so than the dancers on the stage platforms.
He retrieved the drinks and started his rounds to pass them out once more until he reached the Mandalorian’s table, smiling wide as he passed the drinks out. He felt eyes on him again and looked up to see one of them, the one in silver and blue armor and their helmet still on, watching him.
“Hello there. Did you decide you wanted something?”
“A word?” they asked, and Obi-Wan gave a small frown before hiding it with a simple smile, “I’m sorry, but I’m working. I get paid per drink I deliver, so I need to keep moving.”
“I’ll make it worth your time.” they said.
“Oh! I don’t—!”
“I do actually mean talking, nothing more.”
Obi-Wan relaxed and nodded, “Alright.”
He nodded his head in the direction of an alcove that dancers used to take a break in. It was currently empty, so it’d be private enough while still public enough should Obi-Wan need to call out for security.
Once in the alcove, Obi-Wan turned to the Mando, resting the tray flat against his thighs in front of him, “What did you wish to talk about?”
“My men and I are here on a hunt. We’re looking for a dangerous man who is wanted on Mandalore.” they stated, “We tracked him here and are keeping an eye out for further signs. I wanted to talk to you for two reasons. The first being as you are a server who interacts with many guests in a short amount of time, there’s a chance you may spot him before we do, if you haven't already.”
“It’s possible.” Obi-Wan nodded, “I’d need to see a holo to be sure. But aren’t you Mandos supposed to be the best of the best when it comes to bounty hunting? Why are there so many of you?”
“I had a lot of volunteers when word got out that I was going after this guy. I figured a little overkill wouldn’t hurt, plus it makes it look like we’re all here for a good time when we’re in a place like this as a group.” The Mando shrugged.
“What’s he wanted for?”
“That’s sort of related to the other reason I wanted to talk to you over other servers I have seen. You’re a Stewjoni’ad, right?”
Obi-Wan frowned and tilted his head, “Yes, why?”
“I thought so. It’s possible he may target you. I wanted to warn you so you can be alert. He’s wanted for attempted kidnapping for the profit of slavery. On Mandalore he was targeting our ade, but Stewjoni are very valuable to slavers. If he’s seen you and recognized what you are, then he’ll likely be waiting until you are vulnerable to make his move.”
“Oh.” Obi-Wan shivered, glancing around, “I still need to see a holo…”
The Mando nodded and tapped something on his vambrace to activate the holo image of the wanted man. A Klatooinian with a scar across his left eye which was milky with blindness.
“I haven't seen him.” Obi-Wan informed him, “But if I do spot him, I’ll let you know.”
“Be careful.” They nodded, pressing a bag of credits into Obi-Wan’s hand before slipping away again. Based on how full the bag was, it was more credits than he normally made in a tenday. He quickly stashed it away in a hidden pocket he transferred his tips to every so often just in case a customer got sticky fingers and spotted where he was putting his tips.
The rest of his shift went by normally and without spotting the man wanted by the Mandalorians. He clocked out, got his pay, and retrieved his jacket from his locker before heading to the daycare to get his son.
“Papa!” Boba grinned, running to greet him as fast as his little three year old legs could carry him. Obi-Wan smiled back and bent down to catch him in a hug, pressing kisses to his chubby cheeks.
“Were you good today?”
“Yeah!” Boba giggled.
“He was very well behaved today.” the Devaronian checking Boba out of the daycare agreed, holding out Boba’s jacket.
“Thank you, Nilt.” Obi-Wan said, taking the jacket to help Boba into it.
“I lost my shoe today! But Lotine found it! It was in the blocks box!” Boba babbled as he watched Obi-Wan button up the jacket, “Oh and we got cookies for snack time! And Tayna shared their toy spaceship with me! And we got to color!”
Obi-Wan chuckled, “sounds like you had a busy day today.”
“Yeah.”
Obi-Wan stood up and heaved his boy up onto his hip, “Okay, let's go home, say goodbye to Mr. Nilt.”
“Bye-bye Mr. Nilt!” Boba waved.
“Bye, little Boba. I’ll see you next time your papa has work.”
“Yeah!”
“Alright, let's go home, my little light.” Obi-Wan hummed, holding his three year old close as he walked towards the casino exit.
The trip home started out normal enough. Weaving through the crowds that were always present in the district the casino was located, slipping onto the crowded public hovertram that ran around a few of the more popular districts, but also had a stop near enough the gates to the lower end residential area. He stepped off onto the platform and moved to the lifts that would take them down to the levels hidden under the bright lights of the famous Nar Saddaa attractions.
Once they were down to the level their apartment was located on, Obi-Wan took pause, The Mandalorian’s warning prickling in the back of his mind. The walkways down here were sparsely populated, and those who were around always minded their own business. If they were attacked by the slaver, help wouldn’t come.
“Papa?” Boba’s sleepy voice asked. The boy, as usual, had drifted off on the tram.
“It’s okay, Boba, I’m just a little tired tonight.”
Boba gave a little sleepy smile and patted Obi-Wan’s cheek, “We can share my bedtime.”
Obi-Wan chuckled, “That sounds nice, thank you, sweetie.”
He started walking again, trying to keep an eye out for anything off.
They were nearly home when it happened.
“So, the Stewjoni has a little brat. My lucky day I knew I found a treat when I spotted you earlier.”
Obi-Wan spun around, finding the Klatooinian the Mandalorian had showed him only a few feet away, grinning greedily at them.
Clutching Boba closer to his body, Obi-Wan turned to run.
“Oh no you don’t!” The Klatooinian shot out a wire that tangled around Obi-Wan’s legs, tripping him to the ground. Obi-Wan twisted to protect Boba as best he could.
“Papa!” Boba cried as Obi-Wan kicked and wiggled trying to break free. Obi-Wan let go of Boba.
“Boba, run and hide! Go!”
“B-But Papa!”
“Go!” Obi-Wan pleaded as the wire tightened and the Klatooinian began to yank his end of it to pull Obi-Wan across the duracrete back towards him, “Please hide!”
Luckily, Boba tearfully listened and ran.
“I’m going to find your brat after securing you, you know.” the attacker huffed as he bent to further secure Obi-Wan.
“Get off!” he yelled, grabbing a knife he kept hidden and using it to stab into the Klatooinian’s arm. It wasn’t a great weapon, but it was all he had to defend himself and his child with.
“You little whore!” he hissed, yanking the knife away and throwing it to the side before punching Obi-Wan in the face hard enough that his head bounced back against the ground hard enough to make his vision flash white. He blinked a few times before he realized that the Klatooinian had grabbed his hands and bound his wrists while he was stunned.
Renewing his struggling, Obi-Wan was startled suddenly by the sound of a blaster before the Klatooinian crumpled down half on top of him. He cried in shock and kicked to try and get him off of him.
“Sorry we didn’t get here sooner!” someone—a Mandalorian said, rushing forward to pull the Klatooinian off him.
“We got a tracker on him earlier but he’s slippery. Tracked him here after he disappeared into the crowd.” the silver and blue Mando from before added as they also hurried over and started working to free Obi-Wan while the others all appeared to help the first with their bounty. “Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah, just shaken…” he muttered, blinking slowly at the Mandalorian.
“You’re bleeding.” they said.
“Am I? I—Boba!” his mind was a little slow, so yeah, maybe he wasn’t as fine as he thought, but he remembered his son and immediately started panicking over where his son was. “Boba! Boba, baby!”
“Papa?” a timid, sniffling and scared voice drifted towards the group.
“Boba, it’s safe now, come here.”
A moment later the little boy climbed out of a haphazard pile of old crates and ran towards Obi-Wan. “Papa!” he flung himself into Obi-Wan who caught him, even as the full bodied force of it knocked him back into the silver Mandalorian who had seemingly frozen behind him. Boba cried into Obi-Wan, clinging tight to him as Obi-Wan shushed him, rubbing his back and running his fingers through his thick dark hair.
“It’s okay, I got you, we’re okay now.”
“Kark, he has an adiik. Hope we didn’t scare them.”
“Is it just me, or does that adiik look familiar?”
Obi-Wan pressed a kiss to his child’s temple before pulling back just enough to wipe his tears, “You’re okay? No ouchies?”
Boba shook his head, “Papa ouchie.”
Obi-Wan smiled, “Yeah, I have an ouchie, but I’ll be okay. Just gotta get home and clean it up. Let’s say thank you to the nice Mandos who saved us, okay?”
Boba nodded and looked around at the armored group, “Thank you Minnows.”
“Copikla.” more than one of them cooed back.
“We’re happy to help you and your Papa.” another one nodded.
Boba gave a shy smile.
The silver Mandalorian straightened up and helped Obi-Wan to his feet, taking the time to steady him before stepping back and looking at him.
“Your child,” they hesitantly spoke, “Who is their other parent?”
“I don’t know.” Obi-Wan admitted with a shrug, “I met him at a masked ball back on Stewjon. Our masks never came off, and of course he was long gone by the time I discovered my pregnancy. He wasn’t local, I know that much, and based on Boba’s looks, I can make a guess as to what he had looked like under his mask as he didn’t get much in the way of looks from me.” he chuckled.
“Did you come here in search?”
“No, This isn’t the kind of place I’d expect to find him. I was disowned by my parents, and this is simply where I ended up. It’s not the life I would have chosen, but so long as I have Boba, I’m happy.”
“I make Papa happy!” Boba cheered.
Obi-Wan chuckled and kissed his cheek, “You do, my little light.” he turned back to the silver Mando, “Why are you asking?”
The Mandalorian hesitated before reaching up and removing their helmet, and suddenly it was like there were two Bobas. The Mando’s face lacked the baby fat, his jaw had sharpened and he had a few scars and age lines, but he absolutely looked like an older Boba.
“Four years ago I attended a masquerade on Stewjon. I met a local there and we ducked into an alcove in the courtyard. I had regretted not asking for a comm number before we parted ways, but I never imagined… We can run a paternity test, of course, but I think…”
“...That you’re my masked stranger.” Obi-Wan finished, and the Mando nodded.
Uncertainty settled over Obi-Wan. What happened now? Would the Mandalorian demand to take Boba? Would they pay child support and let Obi-Wan raise Boba? Would they deny Boba completely? Obi-Wan didn’t know enough about Mandalorians to know their opinion on children born outside of marriage. The Mandalorian had been quite romantic the evening they shared together, but that was simply that; a single evening. It wasn’t enough to actually know someone.
“I’m Jango Fett, House Mereel, he/him.” the Mandalorian introduced.
“You—you’re the Mand’alor’s son.” Obi-Wan realized.
“I am.” he nodded.
“I’m—well, people here call me Ben, but I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi, he/him.”
“Kenobi…are you one of the Stewjoni princes?”
“I was the youngest son of the king before I was disowned.” he admitted, “Now I’m just a server at a casino.”
“Come with me? To Mandalore.” Jango asked.
“I can’t afford to pay for the passage. That’s why I’m stuck here.”
Jango shook his head, “No payment needed. We’ll be heading back there, anyway now that we’ve completed our hunt. Besides, you could build a better life there, and I—I’d like to be a buir to Boba if you’d let me. Even if you’re no longer interested in me, yourself, finding out I have an ad…”
“Ade are the future.” another Mandalorian said, also taking off their helmet to reveal a Pantoran with dark blue, almost black hair, “Mandalorians put children as a top priority, always. We have good schools that are always well funded, and entire communities will help watch out for every ad so that the buir’e can rest easy when their ade are out of sight. Boba could safely play in the streets with other ade his age.”
Jango nodded, “This is Myles, my second, and he’s right. Our—your son would thrive on Mandalore.”
“He/him.” Myles grinned and waved.
“You won’t take him from me?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Of course not. You’re his buir. His Papa. He needs you. I simply hope to get a chance to also be his buir. Even if you stay here, I’d make trips to visit him if you allowed it, but I want to offer you the choice to come to Mandalore.”
Obi-Wan bit his lower lip and looked down at Boba who was looking up at him with wide eyes.
“Papa, what’s a bir?”
Obi-Wan chuckled, “I believe buir is the Mandalorian word for parent.” he explained while he thought over the offer.
Mandalore would be a safer planet to raise Boba on, and he would be able to go out and play with friends. It sounded like it had a good school system, and he was pretty sure the planet was lush with forests where Boba could grow up with nature rather than on a moon completely covered in a city where the trees were nothing more than holoprojections. And Obi-Wan should be able to find a job there, even if it’s being a server again.
Finally, he nodded, “Okay, we’ll come with you.”
Jango’s face broke into a happy grin, “I can help you pack your things while my men take our bounty back to the ship to secure him.” he offered.
“I suppose I will need someone to escort me to your ship, regardless.” Obi-Wan agreed, “Boba and I don’t own much, so it shouldn’t take long.”
Obi-Wan led Jango to the apartment. Two of his roommates were up and in the kitchen area sharing late meal. He quickly explained to them that he and Boba were moving out, gave them his portion of the rent for the month, informed them that they and the missing roommate were free to use up the food he’d bought and would be leaving behind, and then headed into the small room he and Boba called theirs. They had gotten their own room because of Boba’s young age, and when he was a baby he’d cry at night. He and Boba shoved their belongings into bags. Their clothing, a few personal items, Boba’s few toys, and bedding all fit into three packs.
Boba dragged the lightest bag to the door, and Obi-Wan followed with the other two, meeting up with Jango in the hall outside the apartment. Jango smiled, put his helmet back on, and took the bags from Obi-Wan to carry for him. Obi-Wan in turn slung the lighter bag across his back and picked Boba up to carry him as they headed to where the Mandalorians had landed their ship.
Jango keyed the lock code to have the ship open for them, and Obi-Wan followed him up into it, looking around at the other Mandalorians milling about and probably prepping for takeoff. He was led to a room with a single bunk, though it was large enough for Obi-Wan and Boba to share comfortably.
“You both can use this as your own. There’s a small basic fresher in the back. I would leave you to get comfortable, but you should be seen to by our medic before you retire for the night.” Jango said, setting the two bags he carried down.
Obi-Wan nodded and dropped his bag on the bunk, shed his and Boba’s jackets, and then picked Boba back up, “Okay, lead the way, please.”
Jango showed him to the medical bay and introduced them both to the medic Mij who lit up and offered Boba a sweet to enjoy while he treated Obi-Wan’s injuries. Then he gave Boba a basic exam to be sure he hadn’t also gotten hurt, and he got Obi-Wan’s permission to run a paternity test to confirm what they thought.
While Mij fussed over Boba, Obi-Wan sat with Jango by the med bay door.
“You want to be in Boba’s life.” he said.
“I do. It’s sooner than I expected, but I have always wanted to be a buir. If I had known sooner, I would have been there for him since the beginning.” Jango confessed before softening his voice, “I would have been there for you, too.”
Obi-Wan felt his cheeks heat up to a pink, “That evening we had together…”
“I very much enjoyed your company, and not just in the alcove.” Jango smiled, “Apart from entering Boba’s life as his buir, I would also like to pick up where we left off, see where it takes us?”
“I think I’d like that. Though we should take things slower than the evening on Stewjon. We don’t want Boba getting hurt if things don’t work out well for us.”
“I can respect that. Especially if it’s for Boba.” Jango’s gaze moved over to watch the boy that looked so much like him.
After a bit, Mij helped Boba down off the exam table and led him by the hand back over to Obi-Wan and Jango.
“He perfectly fine in health and,” he smiled wider, “Alor, you are the buir.”
“He giveded me a owie poke but I did good so he gives me a blue bandage!” Boba boasted proudly, showing Obi-Wan where it was on his arm.
“Good job, you did very well for Doctor Mij.”
“Yeah.” The boy climbed up into Obi-Wan’s lap and leaned back against him with a smile. “Do we get to fly?”
Jango chuckled, “Yes, we’ll be going up into space, even.”
“Coool.” the boy paused, looking at Jango, tilting his head, “You look nice. Like a friend.”
Obi-Wan laughed, “Maybe a little more than that. This is Jango. He’s your buir.”
The boy looked confused, “Bir? But Papa is Papa.”
“You know how some of the other kids in the daycare has two parents?”
The boy nodded.
“Well, you do too. You have me, and you have Jango. But Jango was lost for a long time but we found him now.”
The boy frowned, looking between Jango and his Papa before speaking up again, “Did you miss me lots when you was lost?”
Jango nodded, “Very much. It hurts that I missed so much of your life.”
Boba blinked and then crawled off Obi-Wan’s lap, only to crawl up into Jango’s, throwing his little arms around the armored man. “Hugs make it better.”
Jango seemed to choke up a little as he gently hugged the boy back, “Thank you, Boba.”
Over the days they spent in hyperspace, Boba got to know and grew closer to Jango, slowly building up a trust with him until the boy finally started calling him Buir (which had made Jango tear up no matter how much he denied it. He proved to be a huge softy when it came to their son.) and when Boba was down for a nap or preoccupied with one of the other Mandalorians on the ship who were entertaining him, Obi-Wan got his chance to get to know Jango and deepen their own relationship. By the time they arrived on Mandalore the two had built a decent foundation together, and Boba was very happy having two parents.
“My buir will be meeting us when we land.” Jango said as he helped Obi-Wan and Boba repack their things into their three bags.
“Bir-bir?” Boba asked.
Jango chuckled, reaching over to ruffle his dark curls, “For you he is your ba’buir.”
“Babir.” the boy said before nodding. “Babir was lost too?”
“Yes, sweetie, all of your buir’s family was lost to us. But we were also lost to them.”
“So Babir needs a hug.”
“Ba’buir doesn’t know I found you and your Papa.” Jango chuckled, “It’s going to be a surprise.”
“A surprise hug!”
“He’ll love that. He’ll be the one in the grey and red armor with a flowy red cape. He should be easy to see.”
“Just remember that it hurts you if you run full speed into armored legs. You don’t want another bruise on your chin, do you?” Obbi-Wan cautioned. One morning Boba had run into Jango’s legs at full speed in his excitement to see his buir. He had needed to go visit Mij for some bacta lotion after that.
“Okay, gentle surprise hug for Babir.”
They finished packing and dropped the bags off in the cargo hold alongside Jango’s footlocker that would be transported back to his apartment where Obi-Wan had agreed he and Boba would stay in his guest room for the time being, maybe longer if things worked out. Then they joined the rest of the Mandalorians as the ramp lowered. Two escorted their bounty out first to hand him off to guards waiting to take him into custody before everyone else began to file out.
Obi-Wan exited with Jango, Boba hopping along between them.
The Mand’alor was indeed waiting to greet them, cutting an intimidating picture in his full armor, cape flowing in the breeze around his legs, and two of his men on either side.
As soon as they got to the bottom of the ramp Boba took off for the man, weaving between a few other Mandalorians before (carefully) crashing himself into the Mand’alor’s legs and hugging them with his exclamation, “Surprise! BabirIfoundedyounomorelost!” he babbled so fast it all jumbled together.
The Mand’alor’s full attention was on the boy, as were the two Mandalorians he was with. He removed his helmet and handed it to the Mando on his right before stooping down to be on Boba’s level.
“Jango, is that you? How’d you get so little?”
Boba giggled, “Noooo, I Boba and I big, not little! Silly Babir!”
“Ba’buir?” he asked.
“So, uh, funny story.” Jango said as he and Obi-Wan caught up to Boba.
“Papa! Bir!” Boba grinned, rushing back over to them, “I founded Babir!”
“You did, good job, Bo’ika.” Jango grinned down at him.
“Up!”
Jango chuckled and picked Boba up, settling him on his hip.
“I get the feeling this isn’t you finding a lone ad to adopt.” Mand’alor Mereel said, standing back up to greet his son by pressing their foreheads together.
“It’s a bit more complicated than that, yeah. Boba’s mine without adoption needed, and this is his Papa, Obi-Wan Kenobi, he/him.” Jango introduced.
“An honor to meet you, Mand’alor.” Obi-Wan said with the traditional high Stewjoni bow.
“Please, you may call me Jaster. You are, after all, the buir to my ba’ad.” he said, greeting Obi-Wan with what Obi-Wan assumed was a traditional Mandalorian handshake.
“Of course, Jaster.” Obi-Wan smiled.
Two years later.
Obi-Wan groaned as he rolled out of bed and stretched. He sighed and got ready for the day before making his way out to the kitchen where he found Jango at the stove.
“Good morning, mesh'la. Bo’ika already left for school.”
“Good,” Obi-Wan smiled, leaning in to kiss his riduur, “He remember his schooling datapad this time?”
“I double checked his bag before he was finished with first meal.” Jango nodded before kissing him back and placing a hand on Obi-Wan’s stomach, “How are you feeling? The twins treating Papa right this morning?”
“Better than last night, at least.” Obi-Wan chuckled, placing his hand over Jango's that still rested on his bump, “What’s on the agenda today?”
“Well,” Jango frowned, turning back to plate up first meal for the two of them.
“Oh no, what happened?” Obi-Wan asked, sitting at the table.
“It’s not bad, per say, it’s just…” Jango sighed, setting a plate down for Obi-Wan and sitting across from him with his own, “...Stewjon has made contact.”
“Oh.” Obi-Wan took a bite of his food, “And Jaster is hoping I’ll be there to help provide insight?”
“Yes, though he understands if you refuse, given how they had treated you and Boba.”
Obi-Wan nodded and worked on eating a bit longer before speaking again, “I’ll do it.”
“You’re sure?”
He gave his riduur a smirk, “They may not be my family anymore, but they will still know me. Maybe it’s petty, but I want them to know that I’m better off without them. This is a passive way to do that.”
Jango chuckled, “Alright, I’ll let Buir know that you’ll stand in as one of his advisors.”
Obi-Wan showed up in as much armor as he could still wear, his pregnant belly too pronounced for him to wear some of it comfortably. He took his place next to Jango, who in turn stood at Jaster’s right hand, with a couple of Jaster’s trusted men on his left. They all had their helmets off and sitting in front of them on the table they stood at, and waited for the holocall to connect.
It flickered to life and Obi-Wan grabbed Jango’s hand when his father, oldest brother, and his father’s advisors all appeared.
“King Kenobi.” Jaster greeted.
“Mand’alor Mereel.” his father returned, “This is my heir, Prince Owen, and my advisors…” he said, listing their names.
“My heir, Mand’alor’ad Jango Fett, his riduur Obi-Wan, and my—”
“Obi-Wan?”
Obi-Wan smiled as his brother took notice of him, “It is rude to interrupt the Mandalore, Owen, but yes, I’m still alive.”
His father eyed him, “You’re pregnant again.”
“I am.”
Jango wrapped an arm around him, “We are very happy to be expanding our family, and our five year old is exited to become an older sibling.”
“You’re married?”
“Happily.”
The king looked sour, “It seems we will have to rethink our offer then. Work something else out.”
“Oh, and what do you mean? Jaster asked.
“We were prepared to offer a political alliance with the hand of my son Alec to that of your son in hopes to receive Mandalorian protection. But seeing as one of my sons have already given his hand to your son, we could work things out from there with the connection already established.”
“Mandalore doesn’t accept political marriages. Our people, regardless of their title, marry for love. Not to mention that it is my understanding that you disowned Obi-Wan when he fell pregnant with my first grandchild. Mandalore and Stewjon has no established connection. We can offer your people protection from whatever threat you are facing, but you will need to rethink what it is you can offer in exchange.” Jaster stated firmly.
“Oh, I see.” the king said, clearly realizing things wouldn’t be so easy as to marry off one of his sons, or reclaim Obi-Wan now that Obi-Wan was in a useful position, “Might we reschedule this meeting so we have time to go over our options?”
“That should be fine. Silas, when do we have a free slot in our schedule?” Jaster asked.
“There’s time available in three days in the late evening.”
Jaster nodded and regarded the king, “Will that work for you?”
“We can make it work.” he nodded.
“Very well. We will speak more then.”
The king nodded and turned to leave, his advisors following him, but Owen stayed.
“Obi.” he said before the call could be ended.
“Yes?”
“I just—I want to make sure you know that our brothers and I—none of us agree with what our parents did to you. I always planned to reverse your exile once I take the throne. You’d be welcomed back any time you want…” he sighed and continued, “And we would like to meet our niblings should you agree to letting us meet them.”
“Thank you, Owen.” Obi-Wan gave his brother a genuine smile before the call ended. He sighed and turned to Jango, “Mid meal?”
Jango laughed, “Technically it’s still early, but sure, we can go get a bite to eat.” He slipped their hands together and led Obi-Wan by the hand to find a nice place to eat.
“What do you think they’ll offer?” Jango asked him.
“Stewjon hates exporting goods, but those goods are all they really have to offer. I’d suggest pushing for a good sized supply of Silverwood tree leaves. Dried and steeped into a tea they have a unique healing property that could be very helpful to some of the smaller Mandalorian colonies that struggle to get bacta.”
“I’ll forward that to Buir,” Jango nodded, “after we get you some food.”
Obi-Wan laughed, “I could wait long enough for the message to be sent, but thank you, my dear.”
“Any time, cyare,” Jango smiled back, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “Any time.”
-End-