Chapter Text
Two gleaming dots descended through the atmosphere as they made their approach to the main spaceport on Arrakeen.
Ben shifted as the dots started resolving into shapes. Paul slapped Ben on the back. “Nervous?”
Ben shrugged. “A bit.”
“I’m interested to meet them. The stories you and Lord Du Crion have told us… I can see us working well together.
Kerj Shebs twisted his hands in the force-suppressant cuffs. He was a Jedi Knight and would not be treated like this. He looked as the door down the hall opened and a guard walked down, carrying a tray. Shebs narrowed his eyes. This guard was young.
The guard placed the food tray on the ground and slid it through the wider slot on the floor. Shebs cleared his throat. “How can I eat with these cuffs?”
The guard hesitated. “I don’t know.”
“Where am I going to go? I’m locked in here.”
The guard shrugged and pulled out the key ring. “Ok, can you squeeze your hands through the bars?”
Shebs nodded and extended his hands. As soon as the force flooded his senses, he slammed the guard into the door before inverting the guard to slam him into the ground, breaking his neck with a loud crack. Exulting in the force flooding his body, he drew his arms back and thrust forward, blowing out the bars. An alarm began clanging frantically as he stepped out. The door swung open and Shebs turned to see four Atreides guards entering the hall. He reached to the rearmost guard and ripped the sword out of his hand straight into the brainstem of the leading guard, pausing only for it to work its way through the shield. He lifted another guard, pinned him to the wall with the force before mentally lifting and driving a spear through him. The last armed guard charged him but Shebs threw him into the ceiling, the floor, and both walls. Releasing the broken corpse, he turned to the last guard who dove for his sword. The sword shot to the ceiling where the other sword and spear joined it.
The guard looked up at the three floating weapons that all angled at him. “What are you?”
Shebs smiled grimly. “I am a Jedi Knight and your death. None are above the Jedi.”
The guard attempted to lunge from his kneeling position, but Shebs froze him and plunged the weapons down. They hit and gleamed against the shield, but he kept up the pressure and they slipped through, skewering the guard. Shebs summoned both short swords to hand, shook the blood off, and began stalking forward.
After making his way through multiple hallways and leaving a trail of bodies behind him, Kerj Shebs spotted a dark cloaked figure emerging in front of him.
“Xanatos Du Crion.”
“Kerj Shebs.” Xanatos shrugged the dark cape off, powered his personal shield on, and drew his rapier and dagger.
Shebs inclined his head and raced down the hall, augmenting his speed with the force. Xanatos blinked, but matched his speed. Their blades clashed furiously in a shower of sparks. Shebs dropped his left guard a hair deliberately and Xanatos stabbed out quickly. The rapier flicked forward and bounced off Shebs’ stolen shield; without the expected resistance, Xanatos stumbled forward and Shebs sunk his left short sword into Xanatos’ lower torso. Xanatos gasped and sunk to his knees. Shebs kicked the dagger out of Xanatos’ hand and reversed the grip on his short sword, raising it high. “You betrayed the order, walked away from us. Now die and be cursed, traitor.”
Before Shebs could thrust the sword down, something blurred over Xanatos’ head and latched onto his wrist, wrenching him backwards and onto the ground. Getting his bearings, he tucked his legs and punted out when he felt the teeth on his wrist loosen. The creature flew off of him with a yelp in a blur of fur and legs and slobber. Rolling in the air, it hung on the wall and glared at him, its teeth emerging as several flaps of skin peeled back.
Shebs summoned his sword to hand, “Shall we try aga-” before spinning, his sword flashing to deflect three blaster bolts.
“K’olar!” A Mandalorian in black armor, with green and red highlights strode forward. The creature slunk behind the armor figure who produced a longer one handed sword with a slight curve, reminiscent of an ancient naval officer’s sword. The helmet cocked to the side for a brief second, “I hope you don’t take the chance to surrender. You kicked my strill.”
Shebs drew a breath to reply, but the Mandalorian lunged forward, deceptively fast. Not even bothering with his sword, the Mandalorian drove him off his feet with the shoulder charge. Blocking the downward strike with a shielded arm, Shebs drove his sword forward. The Mandalorian caught the blade, squeezed his hand, and crushed the sword before a flame-thrower went off, scorching Shebs’ arm. Shebs let go of his sword and yanked the one out of Xanatos, summoning it to his hand. Twirling it, he winced as he considered his injuries. Deciding to end this quickly, he reached out to seize the Mandalorian in the force, but his grip skittered across the beskar allowing the Mandalorian to close the distance. Finally getting the grip he needed, Shebs threw the Mandalorian up. The Mandalorian lashed out, grabbed Shebs’ neck, and fired his jetpack. The Mandalorian arced over Shebs, his grip on Shebs’ neck flipping the Jedi upside down and unceremoniously dumping him on the ground. Shebs blinked, clearing the stars out of his eyes just in time to see a beskar boot swinging forward before darkness claimed him again.
Ben glanced from where he was kneeling next to Xanatos and the medic. The Mandalorian walked back to him and inclined his head. “He’s out for now.”
“Thank you.”
“I don’t like diplomatic incidents.” The Mandalorian sheathed his sword before snapping his fingers. The strill trotted right over to him and the Mandalorian continued, “Should we head back up to the negotiations?”
Ben glanced at the medic who nodded. “He’ll live.” Ben stood back and gestured towards the stairs. They walked away as an additional medical team arrived to assist with Xanatos and an arrest team showed up with force-suppressant cuffs.
When they walked into the throne room, Ben headed to the dias while the black-armored Mandalorian headed back to the rest of the Mandalorians. He nodded at his father, murmured something, and Duke Leto looked at the newly-arrived Mandalorian.
The Duke spoke, “Thank you for your assistance.”
The Mandalorian inclined his head in a slight bow, “It was a pleasure to assist, your grace.”
Duke Leto smiled and a few of the Atreides guards chuckled.
“To business, then.” Duke Leto glanced at Ben. “How much bacta can we export?”
“Now or in a month’s time?”
“Now.”
“About four tankers per day, enough for four hundred full immersion tanks. In a month’s time, the second crop will finish growing and we’ll be set to export 150 tankers per day.”
The Mandalorians held themselves very still. The leader nodded, “What is your offer?”
Duke Leto shrugged, “We’d like to equip all of our soldiers with beskar, begin a reforging program for our swords, and contract for specialized equipment.”
The leader, Ben really needed to get his name at some point, nodded, “A tall order. We would be interested in the personal shields and the bacta.”
“You will not reveal the secrets of beskar forging?”
“No.”
“Then the personal shields will have to be purchased rather than a knowledge exchange.”
The helmet inclined in a nod. “Acceptable. Shall we talk numbers?”
“After a meal. While the Jedi escape proved to be an interesting diversion for my son and your soldier, my wife has been preparing a feast for us. We can provide curtains and stands for any who do not wish to have their helmets off in public.
“So the final sticking point is the amount of beskar you’ll provide.” Duke Leto tossed the pen down. “We need far more than that.”
Jaster Meerel spread his hands, “I only have half the mines on Mandalore proper, the New Mandalorians control the other half. This is all the beskar that I can afford to export without alienating the clans.”
Duke Leto glanced at Ben, who fractionally inclined his head. Leto continued, “Surely, there are more mines in the Mandalorian system?”
Mereel pursed his lips. “There’s the mines on Concordia, but Death Watch is heavily entrenched there. The personal shields may be enough to break the stalemate.”
Duke Leto leaned back, drumming his fingers. “What if I provided a legion of Atreides soldiers? Close-quarters sword fighting is our expertise and if we can deny these Death Watch use of their blasters, our shields are extremely effective against slug-throwers. Once freed, we increase the amount of bacta provided in exchange for a perpetual lease of the mine and the contents extracted from it.
“75% of the content.”
“97%”
“80%”
“94% and that’s generous considering you are actively fighting the current owners of the mines.”
Mereel nodded, but countered, “90%”
Duke Leto smiled, “I can live with that.”
Mereel stood, but hesitated, “You understand that we will not forge beskar’gam for you?”
Duke Leto stood. “Will our beskar offer a similar level of protection? Beskar’gam has cultural and spiritual significance for you so I only ask that the beskar that is forged for us extends the same level of physical protection.”
Mereel nodded, “If your armor is structured properly, it’ll offer comparable protection.”
Pong Krell crossed all four of his arms, “They murdered my grand-padawan and are holding my padawan captive.”
Feemor glanced at the angry Master next to him. “As I explained, it was a technological accident that occurred when the guard attempted to disarm him. Seeing as your padawan and grand-padawan drew their lightsabers in the planetary leader’s throne room and threatened the leader, I’m not surprised the guards moved to disarm them.”
“The leader was interfering with a legitimate arrest warrant.”
“Actually, no arrest warrant has ever been issued for Xanatos. The Jedi can arrest him based on suspicions of dark side activity, but only on planets that have signed extradition with the Jedi Order directly. It’s not enough to have a Republic extradition treaty which is the law we conduct most of our arrests under. I highly doubt Arrakis will grant us a Jedi extradition treaty after what happened now, as it is, we need to investigate their place in the senate.
“Pending, the Melida/Daan application is in the Senate.”
Feemor nodded in acknowledgement. “Master Yoda, in that case, it is imperative we repair our relationship with Arrakis.”
“Bah! Send a Jedi strike team. We can field 30 masters, 72 knights, and 57 senior padawans in a strike force and level the place. No one will ever murder a Jedi again or capture a Knight. Besides, this is the same system that tortured Master Tahl. We are justified in changing the regime.
Feemor shook his head, “Master Jinn’s report was sparse, but he wouldn’t have missed a whole planet and Master Tahl’s brief report before she went back into bacta didn’t mention a desert world and moons. It’ll be a mistake to attack.”
“We are Jedi. They cannot challenge us and live.”
“They didn’t challenge us, Master Krell. They asserted the rights to their own laws and acted in self-defense when your lineage threatened to attack them.”
“Enough.” Mace Windu’s voice silenced the debate. “I will lead a fact finding mission to Arrakis. Master Yan Dooku and Master Jocasta Nu will accompany me as will you, Feemor. I will select a healer from the halls as well. If there is anyone else we need, the Force will provide guidance.”