The Delusions of Dreamers

Fourteen

They had been in space for two weeks because the ship had no hyperdrive.  It was also very, very slow.  Satine was starting to see why Obi-Wan called the ship Garbage.

She didn't really mind, though.  She wasn't very familiar with space, but she felt safe in their little shuttle, and she had to admit that she was scared of what awaited them on Draboon, if anything at all.  So the duchess was quite content to sit in the ship and sip on alcohol every once in a while.

"Satine!" Obi-Wan called from the cockpit.  "Come here, please!" She got up from the table and joined him and Qui-Gon.

"What is it?"

The Padawan pointed to their scanner and to a ship in the distance.  "It appears to be a Mandalorian shuttle."

Satine gasped.  Could they be New Mandalorians, seeking to help her? Or Old Mandalorians with the hopes of assassinating her? She gulped.

Qui-Gon hummed.  "I'm not going to engage unless they do.  In case they are Old Mandalorians."

The duchess held up a finger.  "But what if—"

A voice came out of the speaker.  "This is Captain Argullus of the New Mandalorian shuttle.  Who is this?" Satine beamed.  Was the civil war on her planet over? Had they come to take her home?

The Jedi cringed and exchanged glances before coming to a decision.  "This is Master Qui-Gon Jinn and my Padawan,  Obi-Wan Kenobi.  What is your business?" It was silent for a moment.

"We are in search of the Duchess of Mandalore, Satine Kryze.  We wish to help her and protect her from Old Mandalorians, assassins, bounty hunters, and other enemies she may have.  Have you two Jedi had any contact with her?"

"No?" Obi-Wan whispered, asking his Master for the correct answer.

"Yes!" Satine insisted, balling her hands into fists.  A sudden wave of hope and homesickness had washed over her.

Qui-Gon looked conflicted, a crease appearing between his two brows.  He cleared his throat.  "Well, um..." The duchess could tell that he was going to lie.

"I'm right here!" she exclaimed, leaning in.  "Shall we board your ship?"

"It is wonderful to hear your voice again, Your Majesty.  But if it is alright with you, we would like to board your ship and speak to you.  Privately."

"I—"

"Very well," interrupted the Jedi Master.  Satine glowered at him.  "My Padawan and I will board your ship to discuss matters with your people.  The other half of your Mandalorians may come and speak with the duchess."

For a moment, there was only static over the speaker.  "Perfect."

"Oh, and give us a moment, please," Qui-Gon added.  Then the speaker cut off, and he whipped around to the Padawan and Satine.  "We cannot trust them—"

"Yes! We can!" the duchess hissed.  "They are my people—!"

"I know.  I know." the Master sighed.  "I know how much you miss your home, and I know that you are eager to hear about the civil war, but we must be cautious."

"We cannot let our emotions take control of the situation," Obi-Wan said, pulling on his braid.

Satine huffed.  She really wanted to argue, but she knew they were right.

"Fine.  What are we going to do?" She raised an eyebrow.

The Jedi Master let out a sigh of relief once the duchess agreed, and then he explained the plan.

"We can get dirt from your old boots," Qui-Gon said as they rushed down a corridor.

Satine was tying up all of her hair as she hurried behind him.  "This is disgusting.  There must be another way that doesn't involve me smearing dirt all over my face."

They reached the storage room, and Qui-Gon dug Cad Bane's boots out from the bottom of a closet.  "The Mandalorians will recognize you.  And Jedi don't wear masks.  So, the hood and the dirt should do the trick."

The duchess had put on Obi-Wan's cloak over her blouse and pants.  It smelled like a warm, sunny day and pastries after you pull them out of the oven and—

Qui-Gon's filthy hands were all over her face, using the old dirt from the bottom of her boots to hide her face.  "Hey! Hey! Hey!" she wailed.  "I wasn't ready!"

He leaned back and nodded.  "That should be good." Then he dragged her to the front of the ship right as they locked onto the Mandalorian's shuttle.  "Flip your hood up, Duchess."

She did, right before the door before them opened to reveal four Mandalorians.  They were wearing the signature armor, but it was red instead of the color that most of the New Mandalorians wore, blue.  Satine frowned beneath her hood.

"Greetings, Jedi." They all bowed in unison.

"Duchess Satine is in the cockpit," directed Qui-Gon, pointing behind him.

"Thank you," replied the man in the front, and they walked past.

The two figures in Jedi robes walked through the tunnel and into the Mandalorian ship.  It was much nicer than Garbage.  They followed the sound of voices into a small meeting room, where four more Mandalorians in dark red armor awaited them.  Satine was suspicious, but she allowed herself to be hopeful.

"Ah, nice of you to join us, Master and Padawan." One of them stepped forward and took his helmet off to reveal short black hair and dark eyes.  "I am Captain Argullus."

"Nice to meet you," Qui-Gon said.  His blue eyes and face were calm, but Satine could tell that he was very tense.

"Please, tell us of your journey with Duchess Satine." The captain smiled. 

As the Jedi Master started talking, Satine fidgeted beneath her cloak.  She wanted to rip off her hood and converse with her people like the duchess she was.  She was sick of this silly charade and the nasty dirt on her face.  These people were obviously kind and trustworthy.  If they had wanted to kill her and the Jedi, they would have done it already, right?

Satine told herself that her emotions were having no sway over her thoughts.

"...and now we are here with you, Captain," finished Qui-Gon.

"Quite the journey," mused Argullus, drumming his fingers against his thigh.  "Well—"

His comlink came to life.  "Captain, we have located the duchess.  You are clear to dispose of her companions."