Chapter Text
Given the tricky, delicate, dangerous but successful mission Obi-Wan and his master undertook on Mandalore, which is also a record on its own for the whole Jedi Order, the High Council seems to think that this means they can tackle more of the tricky, delicate, dangerous missions and tackle those well.
Case in point, now he and Master Qui-Gon are assigned to deal with a powerful, rich, famous family on some not-so-obscure Mid-Rim planet – at least locally – which is highly suspected to have been embroiled in forced labour, kidnapping and sentient trafficking. And it has been just barely a tenday since they got back from their Mandalore mission. In which Obi-Wan turned sixteen. A tall sixteen. With a very youthful face. And a real, earnest desire to learn about Mandalorian language and culture. Which has made Mandalorian adopters pursue him, not only Death Watch thugs, when he was in system.
*
The mission is… a moderate success.
The evidence have been gathered and exposed. The family’s name is tarnished. A few of the culprits have been arested. The unpaid servants and sentient merchandise have been freed and relocated. But Obi-Wan and his master have also found out that the local law enforcement that called for their help had been bribed heavily by a rival mafia, so the Jedi have been used as petty tools instead of hands of justice. And they cannot even make sure that the former slaves will not be back in chains, just under different “management,” because they have been kicked off system the moment the mission was “concluded.”
Well, they cannot for most of those poor beings, that is, because they have just found five little ones aboard their ship, sneaking in apparently without being noticed by local authorities.
Master Qui-Gon is shocked and torn. Obi-Wan, not so much.
The oldest of the little ones, an eight-year-old human or near by the name of Sinas Rook, is a little Mandalorian warrior in training who trailed after their parent in a supposedly safe job and got ambushed similarly. Their parent died, but they are alive, and they have been seeking to free themself and other children ever since. And Obi-Wan has been speaking in the Mandalorian language with them because they know of no other languages yet. And, apparently, this means that he is safe and trustworthy in their eyes.
*
Of all things that Obi-Wan might have to convince the children of, not being their parent would not have even entered his wildest imagination.
“Child, I am a Jedi,” he tries, first.
And, “You are a warrior,” Sinas corrects him, confidently. “You are a good warrior. You can protect us. We can learn from you.”
`Unlike my parent,` is implied, and Obi-Wan pounces on that. “I am not a replacement parent, Sin’ika. You should not scoff at your parent’s sacrifice, either. They died for you. They wanted you to live so you would have a chance to be free.”
Sinas looks partly mulish, partly bitter, partly grieving, and partly exasperated. Their Force-presence is even more tangled.
“I cannot provide for you. I cannot raise you,” Obi-Wan tries again.
And, “You have a ship,” Sinas ripostes. “You have money. We do not need much. Five more years and I can help provide for our clan. You are old enough to raise us, too, and you are good to us.”
“I have missions I need to take for the Jedi Order,” Obi-Wan reminds them.
“I am a warrior in training,” Sinas reminds him back, washpishly, before their face crumples again and their Force-presence likewise. “I was learning, too. I can do better! I can spot things out for you so you will be safe!”
`So you will not die like my parent did,` is the implied continuation, and Obi-Wan winces, his own face crumpling.
But, still, “The Jedi Order… it has a policy of non-attachment,” he tries to explain. “I will not be able to raise you, even if I want to. We must serve the galaxy over a certain group of beings, and our lives are dangerous, so we cannot atach ourselves to just a few.”
“That’s stupid,” Sinas huffs to that, and does not retract their assertion even when Obi-Wan gives them a pointedly reproving look. They add, instead, with the tone of, “Listen to me, you clueless elder,” “Teach us well, and we can serve the galaxy together, as clan.”
Obi-Wan falls silent, mulling the idea. A non-Force-sensitive, raised and trained as Jedi – Mandalorian Jedi, even….
Sinas looks on. All too patient. All too knowing.
And then, apparently thinking that the silence has gone on long enough, they proclaim, “I and my siblings know your name as our parent, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”