As my pilot performs the gentlest of take-offs, I turn the holoviewer on.
The HNN is covering the Mandalorian emergency non-stop. Nothing new has occurred yet; they keep scrambling words around the same few concepts, wearily broadcasting the same footage on a loop. Their impatience for fresh blood is almost palpable.
Unsurprisingly, the Senate shows no intention to treat with Tann, and not only because she's asking too much; Satine's death by the hand of the Separatists would probably end Mandalore's neutrality once and for all. Moreover, I doubt the Chancellor will cry hot tears over the unfortunate loss of his most persistent political opponents.
As for Shaali... well, she's just a nerf to the slaughter.
I'm afraid the Republic has little interest in altering the natural course of events.
When Ahsoka comes back, I turn down the volume and invite her to sit with me at the small round table.
I catch her up with those hostages' identities she was still missing, and reveal that her Master is on Mandalore as well - no need to add what this implies.
The girl is used to fear for the lives of those she cares for and to look braver than she is; silently looking outside the porthole for a few seconds is all she needs to swallow the news.
"You know him, Master. He's gonna make it," she says. "All we can do is keep an eye on the news channel. I'll get us a couple of sandwiches - if the maintenance droids ever refurbished this scrap - and we'll play Dejarik. Then, we'll rest and be ready for whatever awaits us tomorrow."
A child feels the need to soothe me - and I allow it.
This says it all.
I lost faith into my judgment to the point I trust a man who deems reasonable to sneak all alone into a mansion patrolled by hundreds of elite soldiers - not to mention, the most powerful Dark Acolyte I've met in a long time.
We watch the soundless news for a while, lost in our thoughts.
Then, we follow Ahsoka's plan thoroughly, affecting calm, checking the time till next death, struggling to keep our mind from what we can't change.
"So, what's with the boy at the arena?" I ask, waiting for her move.
"Chatting to confuse your adversary... I should've known Anakin had learnt it somewhere." Ahsoka takes a huge bite from her plar sandwich and nonchalantly traps me in a fork I totally should've avoided. "Your turn, Obi-Wan."
After a minute of thoughtful chin-stroking, I resolve to save the M'onnok and abandon my poor Ghhh to its fate.
My ego can survive this debacle only if I delude myself I'm letting her win.
"You're not answering," I remind her.
She pensively watches the old, scrapped board, where her piece is mauling mine. "The pus-bag was telling around I can't fight for shavit. And that I had slept with him."
I must cover my mouth to smother a snigger. "For the first time, I'm grateful I'm not your Master. He would've to lecture you, while I can say he deserved it."
Meanwhile, the execution video plays in the background so many times it loses any emotional content.
We learn by heart the cruel, immobile angles of the Chiss woman's face, her chin up, her hands laced behind her back - a military, head to toes, just making a neat, clean job. If ever taking a life kindled a sparkle inside her, it was somewhere deep.
Her men have 'mercenary' written all over them, though their spotless ranks convince me Tann personally trained them. They respect and fear their General, and know mistakes are not tolerated.
I was too focused on the hall and Satine, the first time around, but now I see I could've easily recognised each hostage at first glance; Organa's bulk shoulders and distinctive purple, Padme's petite figure, the lumps of her impossible hair-do under the hood.
Shaali's lightsaber hanging on Tann's belt, her short, childish fingers... rhythmically tapping her thigh.
"Saw that?" I ask.
Ahsoka follows my gaze to the holoviewer.
"The Knight's hand," I explain.
We squint eyes.
The fingers only rest when the Chamberlain's blood spits on them.
"Mother of Moons," mutters Ahsoka, and springs from her chair to get her datapad.
"Let's hope Shaali's Mon Calamari blink code is less rusty than mine," I comment, rewinding the video.
Making sense of it takes us a while. The more we understand of Shaali's message, the more frenzied we get, and this only slows the process down.
"I contact the Council so that they can alert Mandalore," I say when its urgency is clear enough. "See if you can reach Anakin."
When my part is done, Ahsoka is still shaking her head to her mute comm.
"He's already there. Just send him a message." I say. "It's not bad news, young one - at least, not for your Master. Most of Tann's men must be in Sundari, ready to launch the same offence we suffered on Coruscant. This gives Anakin a chance."
"I suppose you're right." Ahsoka concedes. "To be honest, the more I think about it, the more the whole hostage thing starts looking like a diversion. Or a trap."
Then, Ahsoka peeks at the time and swiftly raises the news volume.
Tann's extreme punctuality was predictable, I suppose.
The camera hasn't been moved, but it's already late night, there, and the images are darker than before.
Tann's eyes display an odd hint of tiredness, a paler shade of red. Above all, she looks bored. She doesn't talk this time, just quietly takes away the next hood.
Padme exceeds all expectations. She stares into the camera, impassive, looking like she's just out of a Senate session. For Force's sake, her hair and makeup are perfectly neat.
Ahsoka's eyes have never been this big. I want to say 'look away', and maybe I say it.
"Wait, please! Wait!" Screams Satine from under her hood.
Tann looks at her like she's a pretty but disobedient puppy that probably deserves some discipline. Eventually, she finds out she can tolerate screams, as they improve the functional drama.
"Please!" Satine repeats, her voice breaking.
After this, it's all too quick. We hear glass shattering and see pieces fall from the roof on the hostages, closely followed by a man that can't possibly be Krell. Before anyone can react, he pushes Padme away and frees Shaali from her stun cuffs with his blue blade.
Simultaneously, the girl's 'saber barrels from Tann's belt into her hand.
"The soldiers," orders her Anakin, while he and Tann prowl one around the other.
Ahsoka resumes her breathing with a loud gasp.
I'm weirdly calm, though my hands shake lightly.
This is the first time we witness to something like this from the outside. It's so frenetic we barely understand and, all the same, it lasts forever.
"You look upset, kid," Sev'rance sneers. "Did I take something with your name on it? Anger is not the Jedi way, they say, nor it is property..."
Then, someone makes the holocamera fall on its side.
This stops the sounds and only lets us a partial, tilted view of what follows. Splinters rain from everywhere as the huge greenhouse windows are shot apart. It couldn't look more surreal.
Of Tann and Anakin, we only see glimpses of legs, blades flashing.
Shaali's side of the fight is further and blurred, but whole. We see her begin well, but gradually slip under.
When about a third of the Bounty Hunters is gone, a shot hits her stomach. She falls on her knees, still parrying lasers with her blade.
Then, the shots storm abruptly stop. The soldiers lower their weapons in concert, saying something we can't hear.
Anakin enters the frame from the left side - from above, for Ahsoka and me, like an angel or a demon looming on them.
Tann must've fallen; her men have no reason left to keep fighting and clearly no intention to face the Jedi who defeated their mighty General.
Even Shaali disengages. She tries to get up, but Anakin tells her a single word that makes her freeze.
He keeps calmly walking toward them. With his glove, he wipes away the blood staining his cheek.
I know what I'm about to see, and so probably does Ahsoka.
It will wound us, but we can't look away.
Slowly but relentlessly, tilted Anakin mows the bounty hunters down.
When he's done, Shaali is sprinkled with blood, kneeled among limbs.
A thin smoke is still lingering above the bodies when the Mandalorian's army barges in.