Chapter Text

‘Creche Master Kenobi of the Clawmouse Clan’

Quick AN: 

• Not Canon or Legends compliant. I will fuck around in the timeline and cherry-pick lore from all types of sources as per usual. The timeline is heavily altered, this is not the Galaxy you will recognise.
• Yes, I know that’s not how the Force works. 
• Mando’a will be used and translations will be noted at the bottom of the chapter :)

Chapter 1; The Last Line Of Defence

There were many expectations for Jedi, some more accurate to the truth than others.

Many were under the impression they were emotionless when in actuality, Jedi communicated in emotions amongst themselves. Others could not see it, because it was only through the Force that this was possible.

Jedi cared more than anyone liked to admit. 

If they did not, the Jedi would not involve themselves in matters they had no place in. At their core, Jedi wanted to help. They followed the Will of the Force where they needed to go and listened to its guidance the best they could. 

It is why war was not easy for them.

Living beings tended to let their emotions run freely in the Force. Often, this could be used to their advantage in order to defuse tricky situations. Other times, it overwhelmed them. 

While the Jedi kept their secrets and their personal relations close, they were not without loved ones. They were not without family.

Few realised that.

There was a reason the enemies of the Jedi had a saying. 

If you want to hurt the Padawan, kill the Master first.

Because if their Padawan got hurt or worse, killed, then the Master would stop at nothing to take those responsible down. And by that time, their patience had completely run out. There were few things more dangerous than an angry Jedi Master trying to protect their hurt Padwan.

That was a misconception too.

While Jedi Masters were incredibly dangerous when protecting their Padawan, it was those who cared for Jedi Younglings who were amongst the most dangerous Jedi the Order had to offer.

Even within the Temple, many forgot that the title of Creche Master was one of the highest ranks in the Jedi Order. They raised the new generations of Jedi and that alone made them well respected amongst all. 

Not everyone could become a Creche Master. 

Your ability within the Force needed to be on a certain level in order to properly care for a huddle of Younglings. You could also not be too young or too old. The Creche Master needed to provide stability for their Younglings, they needed to always be available in the worst case scenario. Certain character traits were necessary to even be considered for the position. The Trial period was gruelling and difficult, not many passed them. 

Not to mention the fact that, one of the requirements to become a Creche Master was to be amongst the top 5% of Jedi fighters.

They were the best fighters the Order had to offer, though the official records would not show it. Creche Masters had no time to fight in the Ranking-Duals the Order liked to hold every once in a while.

There was a good reason for it too.

The Creche Masters were often considered the last line of defence against external threats.

Not that many remembered that. Not even within the Order did everyone realise that it was not the Temple Guards who would be the ones taking charge in the worst case scenario. It would ultimately be the Creche Masters.

In recent memory there had been no attack to the Coruscant Temple severe enough to draw the Creche Masters out of their domain.

Today marked the first time in centuries that their hand was forced.

Alarms bleared through the Temple, echoing through the eerily empty halls. Lights flickered as explosions shook the foundations of the Temple. 

In the distance, the sound of battle could be heard but it had not yet reached the heart of the Temple quite yet.

It would not be long before it arrived.

The tall ornate doors leading to the most inner sanctum of the Coruscant Temple had been shut and locked with a Force activated mechanism. Behind it, the Jedi Younglings were being readied for evacuation by the majority of the Creche Masters and some of the Temple Guards.

In front of the door stood a lone figure. 

Copper hair with a hint of grey near his temples, determined blue eyes watching the end of the hallway for the threat to arrive. His stance was relaxed despite the situation– arms clasped behind his back, his stance wide and sturdy. 

This was hardly the first time Creche Master Obi-Wan Kenobi acted as a sentry, though this position might just be his most crucial one.

His huddle of Younglings were behind the doors at his back, and he would die before letting anyone through those doors.

While the attack had been a surprise, the political climate had been troubled enough for the Temple to have been measured in the worst case scenario beforehand. 

Obi-Wan, despite being mostly occupied with raising his huddle, had kept an eye on the news and knew trouble had been brewing for a good while.

It was no surprise to him that the Republic refused aid when they first attacked the Temple. 

Even after the Jedi fought in the war for them, even when they did so much for the Republican planets, Obi-Wan was unsurprised that they refused to aid them in their time of need. 

They had been under siege for hours before the Kyr’tsade lost their patience and started blowing holes in the walls. Precious hours used to ship out the Creche Clan’s and Temple-bound Jedi. They had to be cautious not to be discovered. 

Obi-Wan doubted they would have much longer, so he had left the last Creche Masters to prepare the ship he and his Creche Clan would be using in order to buy time.

The fight ahead would not be pretty. 

It had been years since Obi-Wan had been in a proper fight, but he was not unprepared in the slightest.

He listened as the sounds of fighting started to fade. He watched the surviving Temple Guards fall back, injured and unable to continue for much longer.

Obi-Wan stepped forwards, “Fall back.” He ordered, catching the attention of the Guards. “I will take it from here.”

The three who were injured the worst did as ordered, the other two refused, stepping besides Obi-Wan into a defensive stance.

They would give their lives for those in the room behind them. They would fight until they no longer could. 

Obi-Wan let them, accepting their offer as he faced ahead to where Mandalorians clad in blue and black armour descended on the hall.

He stood still, unmoving and unafraid. Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan took his saber and held it. He knew what he had to do, and he would stop at nothing to do it.

These Mandalorians would pay for breaking into the Temple with their lives.

—--------------------

When Jaster heard that the Jetii Temple was burning, he almost immediately ordered his Verde to aid any refugees.

Especially when he heard it was Kyr’tsad, led by former Mand’alor Tor Vizsla, who was leading the attack. 

It had not been that long ago when Jaster won the Dha’kad’au and became Mand’alor. Tor had not taken that too well and his dar’Jetii allies were not pleased with it either. Jaster had wondered when they would lash out now that the war was over, but he had not expected the target to be the Jetiise. 

That being said, it was likely no coincidence they attacked during Jaster’s first official visit to Coruscant. 

He was also surprised to learn that the Republic was not doing kriff about it. Jaster got word that they refused the Jetiise’s call for aid.

So Jaster made the decision to aid the Jetiise in their stead.

The Temple was damaged heavily by the time Jaster dropped in to deal with Kyr’tsad along with some of his closest Verde. Locals who lived in Kih’Keldabe had guided them through the city planet in order to reach the Temple where they infiltrated. 

It was not hard to follow the carnage from there.

Dead lined the halls. 

Older Jetiise, younger Jetiise, it did not matter. Kyr’tsad killed any in their way. 

“Dar’manda hut’uune.” Jaster muttered.

His Verde had entered ten minutes before Jaster and his traat'aliit joined them and had already travelled deeper into the Temple. 

“We got a heads up.” Kal informed Jaster with a datapad. “Fighting is still ongoing in three parts of the Temple. The Jetiise are fighting to protect whatever is behind the large doors there.”

“Do we know what’s there?”

“Mij thinks one of the doors leads to the Temple’s Medical Wing. The other two are unknown.”

“Which place needs the most aid?”

“We have Verde going to the Medical Wing as well as the other nearby location.” Kal replied, “The third location is deeper into the Temple, right in the middle of it.”

Jaster nodded, “Then we–”

“Jaster!” Arla called over the internal commlink within Jaster’s buy’ce. “You need to see this!”

Before Jaster could ask, Arla sent a holostill from her location.

From the cover she was behind, Arla had photographed one of the large doors Kal just mentioned. In front of it stood three Jetiise who were clearly caught up in a fight.

Two Jetii Arane and one regular Jetii.

Except there was nothing regular about that Jetii.

His copper coloured hair was starkly contrasted by the blue hue his lightsaber cast in his features. Despite the dire situation, his expression was carefully neutral, yet there was a fire in his eyes which meant he would fight until the very end. No small amount of blood trailed down his temple, but the injury did not look too bad– though it was difficult to say with head injuries, it always was.

Jaster stilled, his eyes observing the image before coming to the same conclusion many others had.

“Oh Ka’ra, that's Jetii’Alor Kenobi.” Kal muttered, “Mand’alor, Ke'gycese?”

The Jetii General who had vanished from the battlefield the moment the war ended. 

Rumour had it that he got fatally injured, but he seemed to be very alive and very angry. Not that Jaster blamed him, he would also not enjoy having a bounty on his head alluring enough to trick many into going after a high ranking Jetii.

“You lead your traat'aliit to the second location, I’ll join Arla.” Jaster stated, already running through the damaged Temple Halls.

Before Mereel won his title as Mand’alor, they had been on the opposite side of war. The Mando’ade were still answering the call of the dar’manda shabuir named Tor Vizsla. The former Mand’alor had struck a deal with the Dar’Jetiise– one no one really agreed to but could not go against due to the fact that Vizsla was Mand’alor. 

The Jetiise had been forced to serve the Republic in those days– the days before they left their position in the Republic to be independent as they were in the olden days. They fought in the army as Commanders and Generals, Kenobi being one of the more famous ones. 

He was widely known as a competent fighter and a cunning strategist. His methods were often unorthodox but with a few exceptions, his battalion saw the least losses of those fighting in the frontlines. On top of that, Kenobi was extremely honourable. Most Jetiise were, but there was something different about Kenobi and everyone agreed to it. Many amongst the Mando’ade who agreed they had no place in the war between the Republic and the Dar’Jetiise were infatuated with Kenobi for that reason. He was not the only Jetii with fans, but he was the one Jaster had set his sights on.

It was no secret that Jetii’alor Kenobi and Alor Mereel had been… borderline flirting during the war. They rarely crossed paths in battle, but when they did they both seemed to realise they were in a war neither of them should be a part of. They were playful when clashing blades, often making friendly conversation despite the war going on around them.

They also tended to let each other’s war hostages go without more than a friendly note and sometimes a small gift like tea or a book. 

Yes, they were on opposite sides and their people had killed one another, but they were both well aware that their part in the war had been out of their hands and tried to make the best of it regardless.

And of course, Mand’alor Mereel– the di’kut that he was– fell head over heels for Jetii’Alor Kenobi.

Mereel had been devastated when Jetii’alor Kenobi’s battalion had been taken over by a different Jetii when the war wrapped up. It is where he learned about the rumours of Kenobi’s injury during the final confrontation with the Dar’Jetiise.

When the Dar’Jetiise were defeated, former Mand’alor Vizsla still wanted to fight. That was when Mereel had challenged Vizsla and won the title of Mand’alor. Afterwards, he had been able to negotiate for peace with the Republic and neutrality with the Jetiise.

They never really heard anything from Jetii’alor Kenobi and it did not take long for rumours of his death to spread. Those rumours were clearly wrong.

Jaster was glad for it.

—-------------------

~Some years prior~

The Republic had been involved in a Galactic War for a long time now. A group of planets who called themselves the Separatists had left the Republic decades ago, but had since decided that the Republic needed to fall. They raised an army to attack the Republic which marked the start of a Galactic War which had been ongoing for around fifteen years. 

When it became known that the Sith had a part in the war on the side of the Separatists, the Republic demanded the Jedi to join the conflict. Because of their former arrangements with the Republic, the Jedi had been pulled into the conflict. Despite their objections, the Republic would not take no and forced them into the GAR along with many Republican citizens. 

To counter this, the Separatists hired Mandalorians. Mand’alor Tor Vizsla agreed to join forces against the Republic, much to the dismay of many Mandalorians. 

For years, the fighting continued. Countless battles, countless deaths. War was expensive and hard to keep up, yet both sides had plenty of resources and managed to keep the fighting going with no sign of negotiations in sight.

Both the Jedi, and surprisingly most of the Mandalorians, were opposed to fighting in the war. The Jedi felt that their conflict with the Sith could be dealt with outside of the scope of war and were uninterested in the war. Most of the Mandalorians were opposed because they had been content with not messing with Galactic conflicts while they were still rebuilding their fledgling Empire.

It meant that the dynamic was a bit odd.

For the Mandalorians it differed. Some were more active than others. Some actually tried to fight the Jedi, others traded a few punches before backing off with a nod and a ‘see you next time’.

Unless there were Sith actively on the battlefield, the Jedi rarely bothered to interfere with much either. They defended themselves and those around them, but they were not exactly giving this war their all.

While some Jedi were technically named Commander or General, it was mostly a title for show. To the GAR, there was a large difference between a General and a Jedi General. Nevertheless, the rank was a valid one.

So occasionally, they did decide to pull their rank.

Especially when they observed slights against their own or their enemy.

Obi-Wan knew it was going to be a long day when he spotted a group of bound Mandalorians arguing with Republican officers. They were trying to block one of their own from an officer trying to take their helmet.

Gliding over, Obi-Wan tilted his head. “What is going on here?”

The Officer startled as Obi-Wan stood behind him, then glared at Obi-Wan. “Just booking prisoners, Sir.”

Obi-Wan barely avoided the twitch in his eyes at the statement, Why in the name of the Force did they take Mandalorian prisoners?! Were they trying to drown him in paperwork?

“You took prisoners…” Obi-Wan could feel a headache being born before he even finished his sentence, “Why?”

The Officer shrugged, “They were there. Good for leverage.”

Openly frowning, it was clear Obi-Wan disagreed with the statement. “I believe the orders were to retreat without making contact.”

The Republic had long since decided to let this planet go in order to put their efforts to more crucial locations.

The Officer had the audacity to shrug again, “No need to worry your pretty little head about it.”

Obi-Wan did not rise to the bait, instead his attention returned to where the other Officer was doing his very best to get by to the Mando still wearing his helmet. The others seemed to have cooperated.

Of the five of them, only one seemed to be over the age of 20, likely nearing his 30s which put him in Obi-Wan’s age range. He had tan skin, dark brown eyes. and black hair which was a bit sweaty from the battle which had just ended. He was buff and taller than Obi-Wan was– where he was lean, this man was very muscular. 

The Mando stood protectively in front of the younger ones and ensured that the one still wearing a helmet was out of the reach of the Officer.

Why would everyone be okay without a helmet but…

Obi-Wan paused, then realised what was going on. He moved over to the Officer.

“Stop that.” Obi-Wan swatted the Officer away before standing in front of the Mandalorians, “Does he follow the Way?”

The Mandalorian in front of him looked at him with a complicated gaze, then nodded. “Elek.” He nodded, “As we told those two as well.”

The Mando’s Basic was good and Obi-Wan secretly liked the accent the Mandalorian had. It sounded pleasant.

“Indeed.” Obi-Wan hummed, looking at the Officer, “Have they been compliant up until this point?”

“...Yes.”

“So you decided to ignore the religion one of them follows, why exactly?”

“...” The Officer did not reply, glaring at Obi-Wan while Obi-Wan patiently waited for a reply.

“Does it matter?” The first Officer growled, “We can’t let him keep his helmet.”

“How about you let me oversee the situation?” Obi-Wan straightened, “Seeing as you are ill equipped to deal with the responsibility.”

The Officer bristled, “You can’t–”

“Would you like for me to make it an official order?” Obi-Wan tilted his head, “I will if it pleases you.”

“That won’t be necessary." The Officer gritted. 

Obi-Wan did not break eye contact as he dismissed the Officers, “On your way then.”

He patiently waited for the Officers to move off, leaving Obi-Wan with the Mandalorians. Once they were out of sight, Obi-Wan let out a frustrated breath, then turned to the Mandalorians.

He observed the group. Most of them were too young to be very involved with the war. Despite Mandalorians technically being of age by thirteen, most did not see the battlefield until their twenties. With the exception of the oldest one, Obi-Wan doubted they were fighting in the war in any meaningful way.

Which meant the idiots had captured the Mandalorian equivalent of civilians.

Overseeing the Republican soldiers moving the Mando’s to the cells, Obi-Wan pulled one of them aside. “Did the Mandalorians mention their names?”

The soldier shook his head, “They refused to say. Though I'm pretty sure one of them is called Arla. The name Jango was also mentioned. And Alor, the oldest one is called Alor.”

Obi-Wan froze. “...Alor?”

“Yeah, Alor Meral or something.” The soldier shrugged, “Where do you want us to take them? Separate cells I’m assuming.”

“No… put them together.” Obi-Wan replied, his eyes landing on the Mandalorians again, his gaze more scrutinizing this time around.

Unbeknownst to most, Obi-Wan was somewhat fluent in Mando’a.

He had learned the language long before the Mandalorians joined the war and had kept his ability to understand and speak the language quiet on the request of the Jedi Order. 

Which is how he knew that ‘Alor’ was not that Mandalorian’s name, it was his title.

Alor roughly translated to leader. The rank was harder to discover since many Mandalorians with a rank were referred to as Alor, but it was usually used to refer to the head of a Mandalorian House.

Better known Houses were the Vizsla’s– which the current Mand’alor belonged to, the Wren’s, who were very active in war, and the Skirata’s, who were also very influential. There were smaller and lesser known Houses as well, but all Houses were led by a single Alor who would be part of the alii'aliit.

The Alii’aliit was a meeting of all Clan’s– all of the Mandalorian Houses. From memory, there were about fifteen in the current Mandalorian Empire. All fifteen of them were Generals amongst the Mandalorians aiding the Separatists. 

One of them was an Alor named Mereel. He was known to protest the Mandalorian part in the war and seemed to have built quite some suede with the Mandalorian Empire. He was a popular figure, well liked.

Something felt off about his presence here, especially considering the fact that he had young Mandalorians with him rather than warriors.

The Force poked at Obi-Wan.

He was on the right track.

Something was off.

This situation was more important than he initially suspected.

While Obi-Wan was not gifted with the ability of seeing Shatterpoints, he could sense one surrounding this. Obi-Wan had to be careful. Something important was happening and he was caught in the middle of it.

He moved behind the soldiers, overseeing them locking the Mandalorians up, then Obi-Wan dismissed them in order to be alone in the holding cells.

The Mandalorians were clearly not pleased, tense and unsure.

Obi-Wan remained calm, his hands clasped behind his back as he observed the Mandalorian he suspected to be Alor Mereel.

He had read some of his articles. They were interesting and had helped Obi-Wan understand the current political climate the Mandalorians were dealing with. Uncertainty in their Mand’alor dragging them to war– a widely unpopular decision.

Rumour had it that Mereel openly spoke against the war. He had gathered much support from others who felt the same way. Things had been boiling over recently, the Mandalorians arguing more. 

Rumour had it, Mereel was close to challenging Vizsla for the title of Mand’alor.

Somehow, it felt like their capture by Republican forces known to shoot first and ask questions later felt on purpose. 

“Me'copaani, shabuir?!” The blond teenage girl growled, noticing Obi-Wan’s gaze.

Obi-Wan smiled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. 

Instead of answering straight away, Obi-Wan moved his hand behind his back, using the Force to pull some cables loose from a nearby camera without ever looking at it or reaching for it.

The cable pulled loose, the sound catching the attention of the Mandalorians as they watched the camera shut down. 

Obi-Wan tilted his head, then replied to the girl, “Naak, Verd’ika.” He moved to the door and locked it, ensuring their conversation would not be interrupted, “Merely trying to gauge how badly my coworker kriffed up by arresting an Alor without knowing. You see, we tend to try and limit our interactions with Mando’ade. Too much history there.”

The Alor froze, narrowing his eyes at Obi-Wan. “Jetii.”

“Alor.” Obi-Wan hummed, “I am assuming Mereel, though I doubt you would correct my assumptions.”

“Would it matter?”

“It would.” Obi-Wan nodded, “I can’t trust the likes of Skirata or Wren to take me up on my offer. Mereel, however, well with him I might be able to make a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

Obi-Wan moved to sit in front of the cell, inviting the Mandalorian to take a seat in front of him, leaving only the bars of the cell to separate them. “Sit with me?”

Once settled, the Mandalorian repeated himself, “Well?”

“I have this ability to sense when something is amiss. I can’t always pinpoint it, but in this case, it seems a bit too convenient for us to happen to stumble upon a group of Mandalorians just as we are trying to retreat from this planet.” Obi-Wan explained. “An Alor with a group of Verd’ike, no less.”

The Alor hesitated, then admitted, “Wrong intel.”

“Trusted source?”

“Up until now.” 

Right. 

“My coworkers are intending to use you in negotiations, but you and I both know that rarely goes well.” Obi-Wan sighed, “Instead I think it would be more favourable to provide you some aid so you may deal with the… unfortunate source on your end. In the meantime, I am content to forget about this whole mess. Especially the attempted slight against one of your own.”

The Alor frowned, “What’s in it for you, Jetii?”

Obi-Wan smiled wearily, “Honestly, the lack of paperwork is reason enough.” He lamented, “On top of that, avoiding an incident which would make the Mandalorians actually want to fight this war seems favourable to both of our causes.”

They fell silent for a moment, then the Alor barked a laugh.

“I heard the Jetiise were just as unwilling to fight as us, but letting their enemies go seems a bit much.”

“Our only enemies are the Sith your Mand’alor works with. We have no business with you nor do we really care about this war.” Obi-Wan sighed, “The way I see it, it is a win for both of us.”

“Very well, Jetii.” The Alor nodded, “You were correct, my name is Mereel. Jaster Mereel.”

“Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, well met” Obi-Wan nodded his head, “With that out of the way, I’ll prepare for your grand escape.”

Later that day, the alarm was raised. 

The Mandalorians prisoners had managed to break out of their cell and had escaped. Everyone knew exactly who had aided them, though no one cared enough to make a big deal out of it.

Had they known that they had an Alor in their custody, it might have been different, but Obi-Wan successfully escaped his paperwork this time around.

Little did any of them know that this was just their first meeting.

—-------------------

~Current day~

One of the Temple Guards died, leaving Obi-Wan and the second Guard to fight off the incoming enemies.

Obi-Wan was thankful for the fact he had chosen to master Soresu, the Endurance Form, because they had been fighting for hours now. 

It was clear they were running out of time. Obi-Wan could continue on, but the Temple Guard at his side was reaching the end of his abilities. The Mandalorians were tough opponents on a good day, and today was not a good day in the slightest. Any back-up which had been on its way probably got intercepted. 

They fought fiercely. 

Their young needed as much time as possible.

Some ships had departed, others needed more time. Soon, Obi-Wan would need to find an opening to slip into the Creche and shut the door so he could join his huddle of Younglings. His Creche Clan depended on him. 

So fight he did. 

He ignored the blood trailing down his cheek from when a piece of rubble hit him. He continued to stand his ground while the Mandalorians tried to breach the Temple’s Sanctuary. He ignored the ache in his muscles as he continued to defend his home.

As his last ally got shot down and fell onto the ground– heavily injured but still clinging to life– Obi-Wan took a deep breath.

He was the last person between these Mandalorians and his Younglings. 

And something about that made Obi-Wan give in to his urge to fight a tad more unhinged. His more feral tendencies set in. The need for survival– not that of his own, but those under his protection. 

But then something changed.

Suddenly, the blaster bolts and slugs aimed in his direction lessend. Suddenly, there were others in front of him, shielding him from incoming attacks.

Armoured beings. 

Mandalorians. 

They surrounded him, not to attack, but to defend.

Unlike the blue and black colours the Mandalorians who had been attacking them wore, they wore a great variety of colours. They belonged to a different group, one not attacking, but defending.

They had their backs turned to Obi-Wan– a sign of trust– in order to shield him and create a perimeter. One of them knelt down next to the injured Temple Guard, already performing life-saving medical care.

Obi-Wan wiped the blood out of his eyes, his lightsaber remaining lit despite the change of situation, as he tried to get a better look at his new allies. 

One of the Mandalorians broke away from the group forming a defensive line and turned to Obi-Wan, slowly approaching with his hands raised to show they were not holding weapons.

Not that it meant much, Obi-Wan knew their armour might as well be a weapon. Not to mention the fact that Mandalorians excelled at hand-to-hand combat. 

It was not until the Mandalorian raised his helmet slightly to reveal his facial features that Obi-Wan knew who was in front of him.

Obi-Wan recognised him. “Alor Mereel?”

“Su’cuy, Jetii’alor Kenobi.” 

—-------------------

Temple: We have competitions to decide which Jedi are the best fighters!

Creche Masters: *Exists* 

Temple: 0.0

Jaster: The Jetiise are under attack! We must help them!

Jaster: Because Kyr’tsad are attacking them! We have the same enemy!

Kal: …It’s because of Jetii’alor Kenobi, isn’t it?

Jaster: …No?

Kal: (눈_눈)

Jaster: Okay, yes, but it doesn’t matter. (ㅅ ͡º ꒳ ͡º)

Arla: Look at this! *Shows her photos of Obi-Wan*

Jaster: *Silent awe*

Kal: Oh my ka’ra, that’s Jason Bourne– I mean, Jetii’alor Kenobi.

Jaster: *Out on holiday with his kids despite the war*

Jaster: *is captured by the Republic because of a sabotage attempt by his political rivals*

Obi-Wan: I really really don’t want to do paperwork. How about you just… leave?

Jaster: *Instantly becomes interested by this Jetii who is just letting him go without issues* Just like that? ( •᷄ᴗ•́)

Obi-Wan: Well… maybe forgive the rudeness of my colleagues but other than that, yeah, just like that.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Obi-Wan: *Fully committed to fighting and dying in a last stance*

Jaster: *Swoops in to save the pretty Jetii he has been crushing on for years*  ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

Obi-Wan: (๑°o°๑)

—--------------------

Jetii - Jedi

Dar’Jetii - Sith

Ka’ra - stars as the ruling council of fallen kings - Mandalorian myth

Alor - Chancellor, leader, chief, "officer", constable, boss

Ke'gycese - Orders

Di’kut - idiot

Me'copaani, shabuir?! - what do you want, asshole?!

Naak, Verd’ika. - Peace, young warrior