Failed Hunts and Little Stowaways

Jango is calling the hunt off. This whole bounty was a miserable wash, an incredibly sketchy client, not guild-affiliated, he should never have taken it in the first place. Next time he should include a condition that he gets paid half for any hunt that ends with him devoid of leads in the middle of an active slave revolt.

Whatever happens to his target now is none of his business, because he is a professional he does send a quick message notifying his client that if he really wants this guy dead he should find himself a newer, dumber bounty hunter and sets his course for Mandalore.

He’s been away for far too long.

He leans back in his chair and slumps over. Only a few days in hyperspace and he’ll be there. Jango loves his independence but sometimes he can’t resist the call of his home.

He sits there for a moment, head resting on the back of his chair, content to be away from the chaos and in one piece.

-

Something isn’t right.

He snaps his head up and jams his helmet back on.

Jango is not a superstitious man but he likes to think his instincts are good. They’ve never guided him wrong before.

There’s something or someone on this ship who shouldn’t be.

He searches the ship, carefully and quietly, not wanting to alert whatever it is that’s invaded his space.

He finds the intruder in a far corner of the hold next to the entrance of his ship.

It’s a child with reddish hair, covered in dirt and filth, perhaps close to verd’goten age, fast asleep. They’re hiding in between some crates, curled up protectively around a blaster and clutching tightly at something in their hands.

Their expression is clouded with pain and there’s no way they’re very comfortable. Jango has no idea how they got past his traps or why they’re hiding on his ship.

Whatever reason they have for hiding in his ship with a blaster, it probably isn’t good.

Jango crouches in front of them silently, considering how to proceed.

He could wake them up gently and let them keep the blaster, it would probably make them more comfortable to have the security of a weapon. Jango is not, however, an idiot with a death wish. He knows children far younger than this one can be brainwashed or manipulated into living weapons.

He’d rather not risk a lucky shot. He can apologize later if necessary.

He carefully, silently moves closer. The bags under their eyes tell him they’re probably dead to the world, despite the occasional little movement and soft whimper of discomfort.

Jango gets a good hold on the blaster and whatever it is the kid is clutching and yanks.

They aren’t strong enough, even with their protective grip to keep them from him.

They startle awake violently, scrambling away reflexively. Their wide, frightened eyes take a second to focus on him.

It only takes a moment for them to snap to attention and lunge.

He throws the blaster to the side and out of reach but they’re much more focused on the item in his hand.

They aren’t very heavy but Jango topples over at the clumsy tackle anyway. He’s a little off balance and it’s just enough to knock him over. He’s taller though and easily keeps whatever it is out of their reach.

He really doesn’t want to hurt this random kid if he doesn’t have to so he moves back to put some distance between them.

“Give it back!”

The child’s expression twists in desperate panic and before Jango can attempt to de-escalate lunges for the object again, pulling something from their waist in the same movement.

Jango catches the arm holding an improvised knife firmly halfway through an attempted strike to a gap in his armor and twists.

They cry out in pain and kick and struggle to get away, through sheer luck managing to land a hit to the side of his knee.

It’s just enough that he drops their arm, they put some wary distance between them and Jango holds his hands out in front of him in an attempt at calming them.

“Hey, let’s just-” They rush him again. Jango jerks back reflexively and in doing so, hits something on the thing he’s holding.

The kid goes down with a cry and a buzz of electricity. Jango very suddenly knows exactly what he’s holding and exactly why the child is so desperate to get it back. It’s a remote, to the karking slave collar he hadn’t noticed under the kids oversized poncho. He scrambles to turn it off.

They curl up on the floor and let out a poorly stifled sob. It’s the worst thing Jango has ever heard.

“Hey… I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would do that.”

He is so out of his depth it’s ridiculous. He crouches down next to the curled up form and hovers, not sure what to do.

They curl up even tighter in response and start to cry. “Please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, please, I swear!”

“Hey, it’s alright, I’m-” he swallows. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Jango shifts back to give them some space and sits back on his heels. He waits until the sobs die down and they scurry back further to sit against the crates.

He watches the despair set in. They try so hard not to let it show, fighting back tears and biting their lip and trying so hard not to cower. He can’t imagine how it must feel, they must have escaped during the rebellion and hidden in his ship to avoid the reprisals that are sure to come.

They must have been free only a few hours and now, they think it was all for nothing, a slave again to someone with the potential to be even more cruel than whoever came before.

He’s never wanted a child to look at him like that, like he holds their very life in his hands and can’t possibly be trusted with it.

Jango wouldn’t, they’re only a child and so frightened it hurts to watch. They shouldn’t know how to make themself so small, to cry so quietly, to curl their arms around their head to reduce the damage. They are the future and the galaxy is cruel to treat them so.

He tilts his head down slightly to get a better look at the remote in his hands, not wanting to set it off again by accident. The child stills completely, a slightly hitched breath the only indication of their terror. As if he might forget about them if they only stop moving and breathing. As if their very existence might offend and warrant punishment.

He sighs heavily, way to go Jango. “I’m not gonna hurt you kid. Here.” He holds out the remote, hopefully they’ll feel safer once they have it back.

Jango watches as they almost move to take it before jerking back, wanting it back so desperately as to almost forget the trap it might spring.

Their eyes catalog his weapons, even some of the hidden ones. Trembling blue eyes trace his armor and his helmet’s blank expression and settle on the hand holding the remote. He can see the tiny, momentary flash of hope at the offer leave their eyes only to be replaced by quiet devastation.

Jango can see them realize that even if the offer isn’t a trap, even if he gives it back, he doesn’t need the remote to hurt or punish them.

They whimper before they can stop themself. It isn’t often that Jango regrets being so well armored and equipped.

He sighs again and the child flinches back. “Give me your hand.” Nice going Jango, that definitely sounds less like a trap. They reach out slowly, trembling, afraid of what he might do but even more afraid of the consequences if they don’t obey. There’s terrified blue eyes tracking his every move and he reaches back just as slowly.

Once they're within reach he drops the remote into their hand and withdraws.

They snatch their arm back as soon as his hand is gone, clutching the remote like it holds the power of their life in its wiring.

They choke on another sob, this time in relief. Jango adjusts so he’s sitting cross legged on the floor. He waits as they struggle to get their emotions back under control.

“So…” How does he even start this conversation? “You got a name? I’m Jango Fett…” He belatedly realizes he’s still wearing his helmet and tugs it off. Hopefully his face is more reassuring than a blank helmet.

They study his face intently before ducking their head and replying quietly, “Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

That’s all he’s getting isn’t it? Great.

“So, Obi-Wan Kenobi, how’d you end up on my ship?”

They swallow and answer with a surprisingly polished little accent, “I was scared, I thought I saw… and I didn’t think, I just, I thought if I hid in one of the ships he wouldn’t find me. I’m sorry.”

So, they thought they saw an overseer or something and panicked. That’s about what he’d figured. Jango’s ship was certainly close enough to the revolt for that to check out.

“Alright,” he squeezes his eyes shut briefly attempting to stave off a headache. “Is there anywhere you can go? Family? People?”

They give him a wide-eyed look before their expression crumples. “No, there’s-" their breath hitches, "there's no one looking for me.” Probably dead or sold off somewhere then, a shame but Jango won’t be abandoning them without help. If nothing else, there’s no doubt some clan out there looking for a foundling.

“That’s alright, we’re headed to Mandalore right now. You can stay there if you want or we can figure something else out.”

“ok.” Jango, not sure what else to do, gets up and collects his helmet and the blaster and knife, which upon further inspection is really more of a poorly sharpened piece of metal than anything, off the floor. Turning back, he glances at the kid, they look back at him, exhausted and wary. He’ll leave them alone for now.

He heads back to the cockpit to plan his next steps.

Jango gives himself some time to breathe. It won’t do him or his little stowaway any good if he starts getting visibly stressed.

Once he feels a little more settled he comes up with a plan of action. No bounty goes completely according to plan but only a fool would go in without one.

First priority should be the collar, he has the tools for it and the experience. There are enough former slaves among Mandalorians that it’s a commonly taught skill. Jango doesn’t really know anything about Obi-Wan but he would bet a decent amount of credits that they’ll feel much better without it, remote in their possession or not.

It probably won’t be enough to get him trust but Jango can be patient.

He hovers outside the door to the hold for a moment, listening for any crying he might not want to get involved in.

It’s silent as far as he can tell. He doesn’t work to silence his steps and finds the kid right where he left them. Hugging their knees and hyper vigilant even as they droop slightly with exhaustion. He doesn’t see the remote anymore, smart kid must have hidden it from him.

“Come on.” He gestures for them to follow.

Obi-Wan scrambles to stand, only wincing a little, another thing he’ll have to address at some point and follows after him. They don’t have far to go so he does his best to ignore the trembling and the ducked head of his little companion.

Jango doesn’t have a medbay, there’s no point. What he does have though, is a closet he keeps his medical supplies in and an immobilizing cot for the occasional bounty who didn’t get the memo that sometimes he doesn’t get paid when his targets die.

He hears a small frightened intake of breath and glances back to find the kid staring at the immobilizing cot with poorly hidden terror.

Obi-Wan notices his attention and their eyes dart back to the floor, carefully attempting to wrestle their expression back into one that’s less telling.

“Sit,” he gestures casually to the cot and continues before they can panic further. “I’m going to try and get that collar off.”

They obey, gingerly seating themself on the edge of the bed, as far from the restraints as they can manage without it being obvious.

Jango doesn’t comment, just tracks down what he needs.

Looking down at the trembling figure has him biting back a sigh, he’s going to have to try being reassuring isn’t he?

It’s so much simpler when the people cowering are supposed to be, when they’ve done things worthy of fearing him. He doesn’t feel bad watching grown smugglers panic about who exactly hired him to take them in.

This is just a kid, a terrified, recently enslaved kid. Who has known fear and pain that Jango has never experienced and is afraid that he will treat them just like the monsters they knew before.

He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to do this. He much prefers it when his problems are punchable.

He does, however, remember being a small child who got scared and wanted his parents back. More to the point, he remembers Jaster and Jango’s fairly certain he did an alright job? He’s not as traumatized as Obi-Wan at least.

He crouches down in an attempt to meet their eyes.

“Hey, look at me.” They meet his eyes instantly and there’s so much fear they cannot hide. “I’m not going to hurt you, I swear.”

“ok.” comes a tiny answer.

He sighs. “We don’t have to get it off now if you don’t want to.”

“No!” He’s surprised by the instant, much louder denial, although he probably shouldn’t be. “Please, I-I want it off.”

“Alright.” Jango gets to work, careful to telegraph his movements after his first attempt is met with a violent flinch.

It’s a bit odd for a standard shock collar, there’s a lot more customization than there should be in a slave collar worn by a child. He takes it slow, careful not to trigger any traps or nasty anti-tampering features. He’s well trained and careful enough to avoid the anti-tampering traps and is very proud to finally pry it off without setting it off once.

Obi-Wan breathes a sigh of relief so great that Jango swears the entire ship feels lighter with it.

Then, without warning, their face crumples completely and they start to cry. Nearly silent, gasping sobs filled with pain Jango cannot understand.

Kriff, what’s he supposed to do about this?

Before he can make any kind of decision he’s distracted as the lights surge and start flickering. Kark, he just had those looked at! Obi-Wan startles at the change in lighting and takes a few very deep, shaky breaths. Jango takes a moment to glare at the lights as they stop flickering, he’ll have to take a look later.

“I’m sorry.” He looks back over at the kid, staring blankly at the ground and shaking in fear again. He has no idea what they could be apologizing for, so he doesn’t acknowledge it.

He glances down at the collar before holding it out to the kid. He won’t hold even the possibility of its return over them.

They take it and the air grows tense with nerves again. They clearly don’t know what to do now that they’re free of it but still oh so afraid of him. Jango decides to spare them some stress.

“Are you hungry?”

He’s going to have to get used to very intense studying looks isn’t he? He could swear they see right through him before jerking in a tiny nod.

“Alright, you can find someplace to put that while I get some food.” He gestures to the collar casually, making sure to keep his hands far away from it. “We can get rid of it for good once we’re on Mandalore.”

Another, slightly more assured nod and he leaves them to their thoughts and hiding places. He heads off to track down a ration bar.

He wastes time checking his supplies and trying to remember if there’s anything important he’s forgetting before deciding enough time has passed and going to find Obi-Wan, rations and water in hand.

They both startle upon meeting in the hallway, Obi-Wan’s reaction more of a flinch than anything. Jango wasn’t expecting the kid to seek him out at all. The collar is nowhere to be seen.

They fiddle anxiously with their poncho before cautiously taking the offered ration bar and container of water.

“There’s a chair in the cockpit if you want to sit.” He offers, watching as they clutch the items defensively and sway, obviously fighting back exhaustion with everything in their little body.

They don’t argue as he leads them to the halfway comfortable co-pilot's chair and makes them sit. He double checks that the coordinates are set and the ship is still running smoothly before settling in his own chair.

It’s not long before Obi-Wan loses their fight against sleep once again and curls up in the chair. Jango doubts they’re very comfortable with his presence but sleep can only be fought off for so long.

He’ll do his best not to break this fragile peace.

About an hour into their nap Jango realizes he forgot to offer Obi-Wan anything for their neck. If he knows anything, and he does, their neck is probably rubbed raw by the collar’s chafing. That’s not even considering the other injuries they’re definitely hiding.

If they weren’t actively in hyperspace he’d send Jaster a message, he’d meant for this visit to be a pleasant surprise but he isn't exactly alone anymore. It’s a little more complicated now.

He passes time by polishing his armor, no weapons in case Obi-Wan wakes up and perceives them as a threat.

Slowly and methodically, he works on each piece. He has no idea how long he works, lost in the steady movements before he reaches for another piece and notices Obi-Wan’s attention on him.

He carefully doesn’t react to their watching eyes. They seem… peaceful, not nearly as tense as every other time they’ve been in the same room.

He starts his polishing up again and tries to politely ignore his companion when a soft voice grabs his attention.

“It’s like a moving meditation.” He glances up and they almost look wistful, like they’re remembering better days. They blush slightly at his attention but don’t shrink back.

“At the tem-where I was before, when the younglings got fidgety or restless they used to give us something repetitive to focus on for a while.”

“It helped? To have the children do something like that?” Jango would have thought tiring the kids out would have worked better.

They hum in thought, fear still oddly absent. Jango wonders what that’s all about. “It didn’t work for everyone but it helped block out all the noise and distractions.”

“Huh, I suppose it is calming, proper care takes a lot of focus and time. There are six major tenants a Mandalorian must abide by, the second is our armor. To leave your armor to disrepair is a disgrace and to rush the process is disrespect. We spend a lot of time maintaining it. The process can be soothing, especially after a stressful battle.” Jango adds, he's known more than one commando who's hands only stopped shaking once they felt safe enough to care for their armor.

"They let me sort datapads sometimes. I was too little to trust to put them back on the shelves but I liked sorting them by category, it was nice, not having to pay attention to anything else. It was quiet too, and so peaceful."

He waits a few moments to see if they have other comments or go back to cowering but they just sit in quiet contemplation, still calm. He can’t figure out the sudden change but he certainly isn’t going to question them on it.

Once he finishes with another piece, Obi-Wan still content watching distantly from their own seat, he moves to grab the bacta-infused salve he’d picked up with the rest of his supplies.

He reaches over slowly to hand it to them and they take it with only a little hesitation.

“For your neck, and whatever else you might need it for.”

He thinks for a moment they might cry again but they blink and the feeling is gone. They take off the oversized poncho and rest it carefully on their lap revealing a large but thin shirt underneath. Jango does his best not to stare but he can't help but notice the scarring and injuries running down beneath their shirt collar and sleeves.

He was right about their neck, it’s rubbed raw with chafing and surrounded with electrical scarring, they must have been shocked quite a bit with how severe it is. The relief the bacta brings is obvious and almost immediate, they breathe out a long sigh of relief at its application.

“Thank you.”

Jango bites back a comment about using more and simply nods, they shouldn’t be thanking him for such a basic thing. Obi-Wan doesn’t use it on any of the other injuries he can see and only the barest amount on their neck. He needs to be patient.

He has no idea what’s brought this calm upon them and no idea what it would take to send them spiraling again. There’s time enough to earn their trust.

He takes a chance and leaves them again, they don’t even blink when he passes close to them. Should Jango be concerned? Whatever, he tracks down his quarry quickly and returns with some dried fruit.

Obi-Wan probably hasn’t had decent food in quite some time and the ration bar he gave them earlier certainly doesn’t count.

They gasp slightly when he offers them a few pieces, quiet joy lighting up their face while they mumble a quiet thanks. Whoever had this kid before must have really emphasized manners, it nearly makes him snort. He wouldn’t be surprised if they’re a core-born little thing given the out of place accent.

They nibble at their treat quietly, pulling their legs up and under their chin. It makes them look so small and innocent. Jango turns to his own piece of fruit and joins them watching the lights go by.

Jango stifles a yawn. A look at the chrono has him suppressing a heavy sigh and glancing over at Obi-Wan. They should both get some sleep and upon further inspection he finds them already slumped over in the co-pilot's chair, arms curled around their knees, eyes closed and breathing softly.

He winces at the sight of their head lolled over to the side, their neck will definitely be in for a rude awakening.

Jango considers waking them but… the only spare bunk he has is in his room and there’s no telling if Obi-Wan will want or be able to sleep so close to him. They are now but it feels less vulnerable to sleep in a chair with your back to the cockpit exit.

If Jango gets any ideas to hurt them they’ll at least have the illusion of a chance, there’s no such thing in his room, with its single, easily blocked exit.

He’s also not sure they’ll go back to sleep if he wakes them up and he knows they need all the rest they can get.

So, mind made up he moves to leave them to sleep in peace. He glances over one last time and notices that they’re curled up tighter than he'd thought and trembling, no, that isn’t right, shivering.

It is a little chilly now that he thinks about it, his clothes are much higher quality than the scraps the kid is freezing in.

Quietly he makes his way to his room and grabs one of his blankets, faded by many washings but no less warm than it was when it was brand new. Then, just as quietly, makes his way back to Obi-Wan.

It’s a delicate endeavor draping the blanket over them without waking the jumpy child up but Jango manages.

The little one grasps at the blanket reflexively and pulls it closer, relaxing even further and uncurling ever so slightly once the warmth sets in.

Jango, satisfied, heads to bed.

-

Jango starts awake to the distinct feeling of the ship dropping out of hyperspace.

Oh, that better not have been Obi-Wan’s doing.

He’s up and racing to the cockpit in an instant.

Something happened and no matter what it is there’s no way he’s going to be happy about it.

His little stowaway meets him halfway, hugging the blanket around their shoulders and looking frantic. Their eyes meet and Obi-Wan immediately shrinks back. He spares half a thought for their nerves before continuing on his way.

“Um, there’s another sh-ship outside. Th-they’re hailing us.” Comes a hesitant voice.

“Osik.”

He rushes past them and drops into his seat in record time.

Dropping out of hyperspace unexpectedly and meeting another ship right away generally only means a few things and all of them include the word scum. Slaver scum, pirate scum, local “government” scum, it doesn’t really matter which variety.

He ignores the beeping of the hail. He isn’t listening to scum, especially half dressed with a vulnerable child hovering nervously behind him.

He might consider it in full armor just for the faces scum like to make when they realize they’ve picked a fight with a Mandalorian, but they don’t deserve his attention or his response.

He evaluates the situation quickly, one ship, larger than his, slower, with more crew, inferior weapons, shields diverted for speed to make up for size.

He can probably outrun them, it would be much easier if he had a gunner.

“Is there-, that is-, can I help?”

There’s a thought.

He whips the ship around and gives them rushed instructions on how to start up the blaster cannons.

The other ship manages a lucky shot that has warning lights flaring and Jango biting back a curse.

So much for running.

He won’t let anyone get away with hitting his ship.

He registers blaster cannon fire and spares a moment's thought for the kid’s surprisingly good aim.

He maneuvers for distance and avoids a pathetic attempt to latch on.

Any self-respecting scum would have cut their losses by now, if not earlier.

This isn’t some unlucky spacer’s ship, it’s heavily and, Jango is proud to say, illegally modified. An intelligent pirate would know not to mess with him instinctively.

They either have good reason for confidence or they’re too stupid to live. Jango is betting on the latter.

He can see the moment they realize they’ve bitten off far more than they can chew. It comes right after he leads them into his line of fire with a few faked poor decisions. A panicked jerked movement is all they can manage before they've met an abrupt, quick end. They really should know better than to trust a ship that suddenly flies so poorly after being handled so well.

Ah well, nothing they’ll be needing to worry about now. He has no respect for those who trip into their own graves.

He takes a deep breath, calming the nerves still tense from his sudden jump from sleeping into a firefight.

Obi-Wan, compliant and quiet as they’ve ever been, pads their way back and fiddles with the end of their blanket. They glance nervously between Jango and the seat they were previously occupying, obviously looking for permission.

He ignores them and starts assessing damages. Several warning lights are still flashing and at least one of them is connected to the life support systems.

If Jango dies because of some lucky shot he’s going to… Well, he’s going to be very angry.

Seeing as they aren’t dead already there should be some time to limp somewhere close and assess things without the threat of impending life support failure and death.

Jango works out their location while Obi-Wan works up the courage to sit and curl up in their blanket again.

There’s a small, nearly uninhabited forest moon close by. He won’t be able to find parts but Jango’s a half decent mechanic in a pinch, it’ll have to do.

Despite landing far from any hint of civilization or life, Jango has a holonet connection. Normally this would not matter to him at all, he doesn’t bother worrying about the wider galaxy if he can help it.

Unfortunately, the wider galaxy doesn’t always leave him in peace.

He has a message.

From his client.

The one he explicitly and, politely, mind you, told to kark off.

They had a deal, Jango takes a shady bounty from an even shadier client with the explicit understanding he can quit without consequence, the client gets a professional who understands the meaning of the word discretion.

He quit so, as per their little agreement, this idiot should not be contacting him.

He could ignore it but a second message from the same source comes in and Obi-Wan is in the fresher so kark it, he’ll listen to the sniveling complaints and send something very professional and clear and not at all threatening back.

Jango’s most of the way through the second uncreative message threatening consequences for his insolence when he hears the telltale sound of the ramp lowering.

Now why would it be doing that?

It should only be able to open from the inside right now which leaves one suspect.

He goes to investigate and sees a flash through the trees and knows he’s right. Why Obi-Wan is trying to run away doesn’t matter. It’s a stupid decision on their part and Jango isn’t about to leave a child wandering a potentially deadly forest alone with no supplies, regardless of whether that’s what they want.

He takes off running after them.

This has just been a day.

Jaster would probably say if he visited home more often this wouldn’t be happening.

Obi-Wan is a small and malnourished child and Jango is a well-fed and well-trained bounty hunter. They don’t stand a chance.

He can see them grow more and more panicked as he catches up. Their attempts to lose him through low branches and underbrush are for nothing and he can see their chest heaving even through their clothes.

He’s about to just call out and tell them to give it up when they're flight leads them to a small pond.

Obi-Wan glances at it briefly and stops so suddenly Jango nearly falls over in his attempt to avoid crashing into them.

They turn to face him and plant their feet and hold out their hands in front of them and Jango doesn’t get the chance to ask what the kark they think they’re doing before their eyes harden in determination and focus and before he can blink he’s flat on his back in the mud.

This day just keeps getting better and better doesn’t it?

His first thought is the sudden realization the kid pushed him halfway into a pond with magic. Karking kid is force sensitive, no wonder the collar was so weird.

His second thought is that he should have jammed his helmet on before he went chasing after them. At least then his hair wouldn’t be disgusting right now.

His third thought is less a thought and more a general feeling of intense annoyance.

He gets up and starts his pursuit up again, much more seriously this time.

He can feel water dripping down his neck, leaving him uncomfortably cold and damp. There’s mud in his hair he’ll have to wash out, there’s a small stone lodged in his glove and digging into his hand, in his scramble to stand he slipped and nearly got a faceful of mud. His ship is broken he doesn't know how badly and he's stuck on some backwater moon with a child who for some reason decided today was a great day to make stupid decisions and dump him in a pond.

Obi-Wan trips and sprawls hard into the dirt. They don’t bother getting up, just attempting to scramble away, backing slowly into a tree with wide, fearful eyes.

It hardly takes him any time to grab them by the arm and stop their flight in its tracks.

He hauls them up by the arm and they look up at him with panicking eyes and Jango doesn’t know what happened. What did he do that freaked them out this badly?

He doesn’t have time to ponder or ask because there’s dirt in his eyes.

“Kark!”

Little brat tried to blind him.

He loses his grip for an instant and they wrench their arm away only for him to grope around blindly and catch them again. The other arm this time.

They’re well and truly caught now and both of them know it.

“P-please, please just let me g-go! Y-you can just s-say I r-ran away! Please!”

He keeps his grip and hears and feels the stifled sob shudder through them. Jango is wet and muddy and confused and very, very annoyed.

“Listen,” he jerks them closer and gets a miserable little whimper for his trouble. “We are going back to the ship, I am going to get this osik off me and then you are going to tell me why you thought running off on a dangerous moon was a good idea.”

They manage a few weak yanks but nothing that can shake his grip.

He takes a moment to wipe off some of the mud and dirt from his face, he blinks rapidly to get the filth out of his eyes enough to see his way and drags his stumbling charge back. He ignores the little fingers scrambling pitifully at his grip.

He’s fairly sure they cry the whole way. It’s unnerving how silent they are, he can feel their whole body shudder with each shaky breath but they’re so quiet otherwise.

He should try to comfort them but he’s not in any state of mind for it.

He needs to calm down.

They reach the ship and he locks it from the inside, making sure that Obi-Wan won’t be able to open it again and lets go of their arm.

They stumble away from him, keeping their head down, eyes locked on the floor, arms curled around themself protectively. They’re trembling and there’s clear tracks running down their dirt covered face. The perfect picture of terrified submission.

Jango's problems suddenly seem very petty in comparison.

“I’m sorry.” They whisper, shaking.

Jango takes a very deep breath and lets all of his frustrations out in an explosive sigh, what is he doing? He runs a hand though his hair in an attempt to curb the incessant dripping. He looks over at the child again and very carefully relaxes his muscles and lets go of his lingering annoyance. He can handle being cold and miserable for a few minutes.

He needs to prioritize calming them down. It would be cruel to let them stew in their fear any longer, it was cruel to allow it for this long.

He can do this. He obviously freaked the kid out, he’s probably right back where he started. But, Jaster always said you should face your mistakes.

Jango is many things, a coward is not one of them.

He wonders if Jaster was ever in this situation, probably not. He’s always had a calmer head.

He tries to meet their eyes but the fight that had them shoving him into a pond and throwing dirt in his face has drained out of them completely, leaving nothing but a terrified child behind.

This might take a while.

He settles himself on the floor to wait, refusing to loom over them, trying and failing to meet little blue eyes. He squashes the instincts that want to reach out and try to touch them, to offer comfort. He could, he wants to, they wouldn't stop him. He can see how much they want to run, to hide away from him, they want nothing more in this moment than to be as far from him as possible. He can see it in the way their muscles are tensed, the way they try to make themself smaller, the tilt of their head as it stays submissively ducked. Everything in their little body is telling them to run, to hide, to fight. But their mind is screaming at them to stay still, to keep quiet, to take whatever comes without a word.

It takes time, he knows, to make a child so afraid of running.

He curses, not for the first time, the monsters they have faced. The ones who have lost their right to walk the galaxy in peace and yet no doubt continue to live comfortably. He hopes that Bandomeer was brutal and successful in its rebellion, and if not, Jango would be happy to remedy their failure.

He takes a moment to refocus, burying his anger for a time it will not inflict fear in the wrong target.

“Hey, Obi-Wan, can you look at me?” He keeps his voice soft and quiet.

Their breath hitches and eyes dart over to meet his but there’s nothing but resignation now, resignation, and painful anticipation. He’s heard of people shutting down before, in the face of horrors they can’t handle.

He waits, hoping to see some awareness come back. He wishes he’d paid more attention when trauma was discussed.

“I’m sorry for scaring you.” He tries to gentle his voice and chokes on a cough. “You do understand why I can’t just leave you here right?”

They nod, a miserable little thing. “I understand.”

Jango really isn’t sure they do, if they did they wouldn’t be looking at him like that, like he's dragged them back to their worst nightmare and not his fairly comfortable ship. Before he can ask any further they start to ramble, fast and desperate.

“Why did you take my collar off? Did he ask you to? I don’t understand!” They choke back a sob.

“Why would you- I thought you were nice! How could you, how could you be so, so cruel!” Their hands clench into tight fists and their reluctant eye contact changes to furious anger before shifting back to familiar fear and desperation in an instant. “I don’t want to go back! Please don’t take me back! Please! I’ll do anything!” They sit down abruptly and hide their face in their knees and from the shaking, Jango thinks they’re crying again.

Before he can even try to formulate a response to all of that their head jerks back up again and their eyes struggle to hold eye contact, desperate for him to understand the weight of it. “I thought, I thought I was free.”

“You are free.” He isn’t sure where they got the idea they weren't from, he’d thought they were warming up to him.

“Please, don’t, don’t do that. I know you're-, you don’t have to lie to me anymore.”

“I’m not lying, I’m not bringing you back anywhere.” He tries his best to project sincerity. Trying to think of anything he did that might have given any impression he had other intentions.

“Please, just stop! you’re still lying.” Their voice cracks and they struggle to maintain what little remains of their composure. Their eyes shift from Jango to stare blankly at the wall. “I should have listened... He warned me... I know I'll never be-.”

They shiver with fear and curl up even tighter.

He tunes them out for a moment. Jango… Jango is missing something. He knows it, what could have possibly…

Oh.

Oh.

That, that shabuir demagolka.

“I don’t work for Xanatos!” He blurts, wanting to correct this misunderstanding as quickly as possible.

This is exactly why people don’t work for shady clients, alright maybe not this reason exactly but the point still stands.

He should have seen this coming, of course Obi-Wan, a recently freed slave from Bandomeer’s mines would be terrified of Offworld’s head.

The distrustful look is probably warranted, at least they’re looking at him again. He nearly trips over his words in his haste to explain.

“He hired me to track down some subordinate, ran off with some sensitive files I think, it wasn’t clear, pay out was good. The bounty hunter’s guild has him flagged for trying to get around guild rules. I only agreed if I could pull out without consequence for any reason.”

He takes a breath and slows. “I called it on Bandomeer and he got upset, I didn’t tell him anything about you. He doesn’t know you’re here. I promise I won’t turn you in.” He meets their eyes, really meets them for the first time and hopes they believe him. “You’re free.” He adds as an afterthought, he wants them to know exactly where they stand. "Really free, I'm not going to keep you or sell you or anything. We're going to Mandalore or whatever planet you want and what you do after is your choice."

“You-" they swallow nervously, "you promise?” Jango can see the sparks of hope forming in their expression, so delicate, so precious. If he held their life in his hands before, he holds perhaps their last hopes now. It would be so easy to destroy them. The awful chill in the air recedes just a bit.

“Haat, ijaa, haa'it. I swear it.” He holds out an arm to seal his oath, Obi-Wan glances between it and his face before reaching out clumsily, almost desperately.

“You aren’t lying, you really aren’t lying.” It’s quiet and almost unbelieving. Jango feels like they’re looking through him. Something tells him they aren’t guessing or trusting, they simply know, as sure as Jango knows the skies over Concord Dawn are blue.

He’s going to have to get used to that isn’t he.

If his ship had a neck Jango might strangle it. Hours of work and fiddling and improvising and the only progress he’s made is locating the source of the problem.

There’s a slow leak in some of the essential piping that makes sure there’s enough breathable air on the ship.

It’s not something he can fix, much to his ever increasing frustration.

Obi-Wan avoids him at first, Jango isn’t sure if it’s out of preference or their Force telling them his frustration.

He tries not to worry about it.

He’s surprised when Obi-Wan breaks the distance. He’s halfway buried in the ship’s wiring when he hears tentative footsteps and pokes his head out to see what they need.

They hold out a container of water.

“I, um, I thought you might want some.”

He nods in thanks and climbs out of the ship’s side to sit on one of the crates he dragged out. He could use the break.

Obi-Wan shifts nervously and he sighs.

“You can stay if you want.”

They look surprised by the offer, but nod slightly and move to sit across from him.

He takes his time sipping at the water, he doesn’t really want to get up.

“So… Given any thought to where you wanna go?” Hopefully that isn’t too sensitive a question.

“Um, I don’t-, could you tell me what Mandalore is like? I’ve only ever really been to Coruscant and,” their breath hitches slightly, “and Bandomeer.”

Jango leans back and thinks, remembering the streets and people and smells of his home.

“It’s loud, not like Coruscant is, Coruscant buzzes.” He waves a hand and hopes that makes sense. “There are so many people in the capital, shouting and arguing and joyful. There are so many foods that you can’t tell them apart by the smell from a distance.”

“Manda’yaim feels like shereshoy, it feels like home.”

“What’s shereshoy?” They sound the word out carefully, it warms his heart to hear his language handled with such care.

He squeezes his eyes shut in thought. “It is, some translate it as a lust for life but that isn’t quite right. It is living each day with feeling and the knowledge you are not guaranteed another. We are not a peaceful people, I’ve lived through civil war, not everyone was so lucky, it would be foolish not to grasp all the joy you can so you may die without regret.”

They look contemplative and gaze into the forest after that, Jango finishes his water and goes back to work.

-

By the time he stops for midmeal Jango is tired and sweaty and feeling lazy but he’s got more than his own mouth to feed now.

He knows Obi-Wan would be grateful for anything he gives them but he knows based on how they light up at the dried fruits he gives them they haven’t had real, good food in a long time.

Jango doesn’t keep a lot of fresh ingredients around, he doesn’t mind ration bars most of the time but he does keep the ship stocked with the ingredients for tiingilar. He starts to throw the dish together and consider his next steps.

He should definitely deal with the fact they’re still wearing filthy rags and are in desperate need of a sonic while he’s at it.

He allows a small smile as his plan comes together.

None of Jango’s clothes would come close to fitting but when he’d first gotten this ship a few years after his verd’goten, Jaster had convinced him to bring another bounty hunter along, just the first few hunts. They were close in age but his companion was much smaller than him and as forgetful as they were dangerous.

When finally they’d parted ways he’d found dozens of items he’s slowly returned or thrown out. For once he finds himself grateful for his annoying vod because there, sure enough, stuffed in the back with the clothes he never wears is everything he needs for Obi-Wan.

The child in question pokes their head around a corner just as he starts his search for them.

“Here,” they take the pile reflexively with a small surprised noise. “You should take a sonic, and get out of those clothes… if you want.”

Jango really doesn’t know how else to ask/tell them. They look grimy and he for one would like to know if they’re actually a red-head or just covered in red dust. He’s sure they’d like one too, Jango’s never met someone who liked being covered in months worth of sweat and grime. He’s seen them glance unhappily at their own clothes.

“Alright, I will… thank you.”

They hover awkwardly until Jango huffs and heads back towards the tiny little kitchen.

He hears the sonic grumble to life and smiles, another worry out of the way.

-

He’s nearly done when they reemerge. They look so much better, lighter on their feet with quiet satisfaction. Their hair is red, sort of, Jango is happy to note, since that means they weren’t so filthy as to completely hide the color. They’re paler than he was expecting but there’s hints of freckles speaking of a childhood in the sun.

The clothes are still too big and hang off them awkwardly but they’re clean and aren’t falling off so it’s fine for now.

He hears a small gasp of excitement and watches their eyes widen at the sight and smell of the food. He smirks lightly with triumph.

They hover distantly behind him, trying to get a glimpse at what he’s making without intruding or getting in his way.

He gives them both a generous helping and tilts his head towards the tiny table set up. Obi-Wan tries to contain their excitement, they really do, but it’s obvious in the way their fingers twitch and eyes light up.

He makes sure to tone the spices down, Jango isn’t an idiot, but still feels the need to warn them.

“This is Tiingilar, I toned it down but you might want to take it slow.”

He hands over some water and a spoon and watches.

They take his advice seriously, only a small bite at first and break out into a smile.

“It’s wonderful.”

And then they start crying, which is not what Jango was hoping for at all.

Kark.

They weren’t supposed to do that!

He freezes for a moment, completely unsure about how to handle this new turn of events.

“You… Are you alright? You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to? I can get you something else?” He flounders awkwardly.

“No!” They take a moment to choke back a sob. “No. It’s really good, I-I haven’t had anything so good in a long time.”

Jango tries to ignore how warm that makes him feel and clears his throat. “Well, alright, as long as that’s all.”

They nod and rub at their eyes, it takes a few minutes and the rest of the meal is filled with the occasional sniffle but they eat it all and the whole ship feels warm with quiet joy for hours after.

After several valiant attempts he comes to a decision, there’s a planet with a city close enough to risk the trip and he’s stabilized the leak as best he can.

If nothing else his emergency life support measures will last the journey.

Before they pack up and leave, there’s one thing left to do.

Obi-Wan is sitting cross legged on one of the crates he dragged outside, their eyes are closed and they look so at peace.

Jango half wonders if they’re meditating, he’s heard that’s something the Jedi do and the kid did mention moving meditation before. He wonders if that’s who they were stolen from, and if that’s the case he wonders why they don’t ask to go back.

Mandalorian-Jedi relations certainly aren’t great but he would never keep a child from their family.

Maybe they don’t trust him enough to tell him, the thought hurts more than he thought it would but he can’t pretend he hasn’t wronged them.

His mind travels to the collar, still hiding somewhere on the ship.

They should get rid of it, remove even the slightest hint of a threat.

“You know, you’re very loud.”

They blink a few times and focus on his face.

“Loud how?” This force nonsense is not for him, Jango would much rather never deal with it.

“Your thoughts.”

“You can hear my thoughts?” Jango doesn’t like the sound of that, no one gets to be in his head.

“No! No! I can’t hear them, I promise!” They gesture, flustered but seemingly not afraid, and try to rephrase. “I can tell vague emotions sometimes. You have rather good shielding. Some people are very… set in their ways? Determined? Focused? I don’t know how to explain it right, it’s just… will power maybe? They can be loud, in the Force. I can tell you're thinking very hard, if that makes sense, and because you’re thinking hard I can kind of feel it? It’s loud.”

“Is that a problem?” Jango would hate to have a vague impression of when people are thinking hard all the time.

“No, it’s not, just, I was wondering what you were thinking so hard about?”

Jango grimaces, he isn’t sure how to bring this up.

“When I gave you the collar I told you we could get rid of it on Manda’yaim.” They nod, tense at the reminder. “We could do it here, before we leave.”

Their expression untenses with surprise and they close their eyes again, breathing deeply a few times. Must be yet another force thing. A few moments later their eyes open again.

“Alright, we can do it here.”

He leans against the outside of the ship while he waits for them to return with the collar and breathes in the pleasant evening air.

It’s in three pieces, they must have torn it apart before hiding it. Clever, even if Jango had found it it would have taken some effort to fix.

He digs a small hole in front of one of the trees, hoping the act of burying it brings them some closure.

They drop the remains of the collar and remote in and step back. Obi-Wan takes a shaky breath and starts to speak.

It’s no language Jango has ever heard before, there’s power in it, or maybe some significance he can’t quite identify. Some words come with a disgust and righteous fury that might shake the leaves and some with a grief Jango could almost touch.

He’s almost glad he can’t understand, it’s such a private moment he feels like he’s intruding even with no way of knowing what’s being said.

Before he knows it they grab the shovel from him and bury the pieces of metal and wire.

They’re silent the rest of the evening, Jango warms the tiingilar for latemeal and leaves them to their thoughts.

He’s worried but the thought of trying to interfere has his mind recoiling, whatever this is is for Obi-Wan to work through themself.

It doesn’t stop him from sporadically handing them dried fruit and offering them a blanket.

-

They both stay up, Jango to pilot and Obi-Wan to think.

It’s a long journey and Jango expects it to be silent.

“I used to be a Jedi.”

He doesn’t startle at the soft voice but does glance over and meet their eyes. He doesn’t quite know what to make of the expression.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I wanted to be a knight, more than anything. Most younglings do, some of them know they aren’t meant for it, want something else, being a Jedi is hard, it’s a calling. Even the corps are a calling.”

They swallow and continue. “I wasn’t chosen as a Padawan so I guess I wasn’t meant to be a Knight, I just felt like it was all I wanted. They sent me to the AgriCorps on Bandomeer, it was supposed to be temporary, to see what my calling was.”

Jango watches a small sad smile grow as they continue. “I’m not very good with plants, as it turns out. I still wanted to be a Knight.”

They dodge his gaze to watch the stars.

“X-Xanatos used to be a Jedi you know, he fell to the Dark side, I don’t know why, he didn’t really explain it very well and I think I can be forgiven for not understanding his tragic backstory through all the pain.”

Jango nods, for whatever it’s worth, he agrees.

“He thought I was his Master’s new Padawan, there to replace him.” They draw a long shaky breath and let it out slowly. “He didn’t listen when I told him the truth.”

“He took me away and sent me to the Deepsea mines, something about drawing his old Master out.”

They unconsciously rub at their shoulder where Jango can see the red of a still healing brand, they’ve put bacta on it but it’ll scar, they’ll carry that mark for the rest of their life.

“I told him he wouldn’t come for me, I think he knew that, after a certain point, I think he just thought it was fun.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

They look at him, with those unwavering eyes that see far too much and shake their head.

“I-I’ve been thinking about it, we rebelled and I’m f-free.” their voice shakes at the last word. “I just, I don’t know if I can be a Jedi anymore. I’ve changed and I don’t know if I could bear it if…” They shake their head. “Even if, even if someone changes their mind and picks me. I’ve been meditating and I think, I’m not sure I can be a Jedi anymore, at least not right now.”

Jango nods, taking it in as best he can. He doesn’t really get it but it’s important to support people through stuff like this, offer support.

“Would it help if we killed him?”

“What?”

“Xanatos, we should kill him.” They don’t look excited by the idea, obviously torn between the power he still holds over their mind and the desire to be free of him once and for all.

“Think about it,” then, vaguely remembering something about Jedi feelings about revenge he awkwardly adds, “at least if he’s dead he can’t hurt anyone else.”

Jango grimaces on the landing, the city a wretched place filled with desperate people. They’re close enough to the lanes that slavery is no doubt common.

“So,” he turns to Obi-Wan. “We shouldn’t be here long but I don’t think I need to tell you you’re probably worth quite a lot even without the extra magic.”

He wriggles his fingers to lighten the mood and smiles at their wrinkled nose and almost scowl, exactly the reaction he was hoping for.

“I’ll stay with the ship.”

He nods. “Good, the mechanics shouldn’t need in anyway. I’ll be out for supplies but I’ll show you how the ship locks.”

He has no intention of losing them on this miserable planet.

-

Jango is away from his ship longer than he wants to be and it’s nearly dark by the time he comes back.

He heard talk of some commotion further out, some shady figures harassing people looking for a thief. Obi-Wan should be safe but he still hurries his steps.

He hopes his purchases make the kid happy, they can’t keep running around in borrowed clothes forever. He even found some dried meat and other treats.

He stops briefly outside the ship to inspect the work the mechanics did while he was gone, it isn’t near finished but it seems competent.

Satisfied they aren’t trying to cheat him, he heads inside.

-

There’s a very young voice, too young to be Obi-Wan, echoing around the walls of his ship.

He pauses, stock still to listen.

It’s not basic but… he tilts his head to listen, Ryl.

It sounds like Ryl.

Jango silences his steps and walks forward, is he just collecting children now? Is that what’s happening?

He follows the sound to the little corner by the fresher he stores his medkit.

There’s a very little Rutian Twi’lek standing behind Obi-Wan and… lecturing them? Jango only catches a few words but it certainly sounds like a lecture, the kind only a thoroughly unimpressed little one can give.

For their part, Obi-Wan is sitting on the edge of the immobilizing cot without their shirt and nodding along indulgently.

The Twi’lek reaches over and starts rubbing bacta on their back, chattering all the way. He catches sight of a few bacta patches peeking out under their own tattered dress.

Jango suddenly understands, he knew Obi-Wan had other injuries he didn’t see them treat but he didn’t want to push too far and figured they’d taken care of them in his absence. He should have pushed, from the angle, they wouldn’t have been able to reach whatever wounds are on their back by themself.

He doesn’t want to disturb them but waiting for them to notice him watching would probably be worse. He walks back a few steps and takes off his helmet, Obi-Wan startles as soon as it’s gone and instantly turns to face him, the toddler going silent and darting behind them.

“Hello,” Way to make it awkward, Jango. “Who is this?” That might be worse.

The Twi’lek glares at him suspiciously, no doubt feeling Obi-Wan go stiff and nervous. They whisper something comforting in Ryl to the little one and take a deep breath.

“Hello Jango, this is Aayla Secura, she’s five. Aayla, this is Jango Fett.” It’s obvious that Aayla has no idea what’s been said.

“It’s nice to meet you Aayla.” She peaks around Obi-Wan's shoulder to glare at him and hisses something that’s no doubt meant to be threatening.

“Aayla, you shouldn’t say that!” Obi-Wan exclaims, confirming Jango’s suspicions before blushing and repeating themself in Ryl.

Aayla remains unrepentant.

“What’d she say?” Jango smirks at the little one, glaring protectively at him. It should hurt to be so disliked but honestly Jango finds the lack of fear amusing.

“She thinks you hurt me so she says she hates you. I told her you didn’t and she said I’m a, I don’t know if there’s a direct translation, someone who lies to children? It’s someone who tells children not to fear a gutkurr to spare their feelings and gets them killed.”

“Huh,” Jango takes a moment to digest that, “I suppose that’s sound advice.” It makes sense that Ryloth would have hard lessons for its children. If Jango had been the one to hurt Obi-Wan it would only put Aayla in danger if she was told otherwise.

“I thought you said you were staying on the ship?” He makes sure to keep his words light, just curious and not a threat. He doesn't like that they were presumably alone in the city without him but there's nothing to be done now and he will not frighten them over what could have been. They know the risks and suffering of slavery much better than him. They have made their choice.

“I was,” they blush. “The Force called out to me, I’m not a Jedi anymore but I, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t listen.”

“And the force led you to her?” Jango had no idea the Jedi’s Force just, what, led them to random children sometimes? No wonder they have no trouble finding so many younglings.

“They were gonna sell her, she’s only been off Ryloth a few weeks. She’s bright, in the Force, I’m sure that’s why it led me to her. The Force loves its children, wants us to be safe. I can’t help everyone but I could save her.”

Jango suppresses the instinctual upset at the implication that Obi-Wan's Force had them running around and dodging slavers with no backup, barely free themself. Did they even have a weapon? He breathes in deeply and lets it out slowly. It's fine, it all worked out, Obi-Wan and Aayla will be safe with him.

Aayla makes a complaining sound from where she’s taken to leaning into their side, upset at being out of the loop. Jango puts some of the supplies away while they chatter, his knowledge of the language only picking up a few words from Obi-Wan, Aayla is unintelligible with his limited experience and her age.

On his return she goes back to glaring distrustfully at him, Jango doesn’t spend a lot of time with children these days but he is a Mandalorian.

Mandalorians have always known how to win a child’s trust.

He hands them both a sizable piece of the dried meat he picked up and smirks at Aayla’s wide, excited eyes. He’ll win her over yet.

“So, what does your Force say to do about her? We could bring her to Manda’yaim.”

Their expression goes distant again and Jango waits patiently for an answer, chewing his own snack absently.

“No, she is meant for the Temple, for the Jedi.”

“Alright, are there Jedi we could leave her with, or do we need to go to Coruscant?” Jango hopes they don’t have to go to Coruscant, he can’t stand that planet.

“I don’t know, we could try to find a Jedi? I know my friend mentioned a safe house somewhere in one of the neighboring sectors.”

“Let’s try that before going all the way to the core.”

This planet gives Jango the creeps, he’s usually comfortable in places rife with scum and other bounty hunters but there’s something about this one that gives him pause.

It might be the new child he has, it’s much harder to ignore slavery when you have two recently enslaved children on your ship.

It might also be Obi-Wan, who's been buzzing with nerves since shortly after he got back with clothes for Aayla and when asked could only shug and say the Force was restless.

Jango would personally like the Force to be a little more specific, if he has to listen to the magic entity, it might as well make itself useful.

He wants off this planet but first, Obi-Wan needs to figure out which planet the safe house is on and Jango needs to make a call.

-

When he left Mandalore Jaster made him promise to call at least every month if he could, so he would know he still lives.

If they hadn’t been delayed, Jango’s surprise trip home would have come just before his next scheduled check in, as it is he doesn’t know when he’ll have a reliable connection or time again.

He sets the children up in the hold with some flimsi, Obi-Wan doesn’t seem impressed with his obvious distraction but Aayla’s having the time of her little life so Jango considers himself successful.

He types in the comm code and sits back to wait.

The Mand’alor is a busy man after all.

He doesn’t have to wait long before Jaster’s smiling face lights up the holo and he finds himself smiling back. It really has been too long.

“Jan’ika! I’m so glad you’ve called!”

“Su’cuy Buir, you seem well.”

“I am well, are you coming home soon?”

Jango rolls his eyes fondly, nearly always the first question, at least he can give an affirmative answer this time.

“I was going to keep it a surprise but I’ve been delayed, we should be there soon, just have to finish something first.”

“We, Jan’ika, who’s we?”

Ah, curse his sharp mind.

“I may have picked up a little stowaway on my last hunt.”

“You have a foundling!?”

Oh, he thinks, watching Jaster’s grin widen, he’s going to be insufferable isn’t he.

“We haven’t talked about it.”

Jango is way too young to be thinking of parenting, not to mention the fact Obi-Wan is not that much younger than him, barely closer to a full decade than a half one.

“Ah,” Jaster sobers slightly, “don’t feel ready or not sure they’ll accept?”

“Both,” Jango manages to grit out and finds it’s true. The fact they’re rather close in age and Jango is so young is not the only reason he’s avoided talk of what Obi-Wan’s choices are on Mandalore.

Thankfully Jaster just smiles knowingly. “I’m not sure anyone ever truly feels ready, but if and when the time comes, I’m sure you’ll do well.” He allows the comment to hang in the air for a moment before regaining his grin.

“Now, tell me, how did you meet this one? You said something about a stowaway?”

“Lek,” Jango takes the distraction for what it is. “Snuck past all my security measures in the middle of an active revolt, didn’t even notice them until I was already in hyperspace, tried to stab me.”

“Nuhur, did they succeed?” Jango pauses to lightly glare at the interruption.

“Of course not,” He scoffs. “It was… perhaps not my best handling of the situation, they were very frightened and had good reason to be, they have not been treated well.”

Jaster hums knowingly, “we all have our regrets.”

“Lek, I have been working on it but it is not my story to tell.”

“Well,” there’s the distant sound of shuffling on Jaster’s end and he glances away for a moment, looking disappointed. “I look forward to your homecoming Jan’ika, I hope you don’t intend to keep me from my possible Bu’ad.”

“No Buir, I will introduce you.”

“Jate,” he smiles warmly. “Ret'urcye mhi Jan’ika! I hope to see you soon!”

“Ret'urcye mhi Buir.”

-

Obi-Wan picks up on his contemplative mood right away.

He’s still not sure how to feel about the fact the kid can apparently tell when he’s conflicted. Although, given how hard he’s been thinking he isn’t sure they even need the force.

Does he want to be a parent? He’d honestly just thought they’d wind up adopted by some clan looking for a child once they get to Mandalore. He hadn’t considered himself as an option at all.

Now that he’s a possibility he isn’t sure. Can he handle parenting a traumatized child? Can he handle parenting a magic traumatized child? His first instinct is a decisive absolutely not, Jango is not old enough for kids, he’s a bounty hunter and he’s already fucked up and hurt them more than once.

His second instinct is more complicated. He likes seeing them light up when he brings them dried fruit. He wants to tell them more about Mandalore and what it means to be Mandalorian. He even wants to hear about the temple they clearly miss so much.

He kind of... doesn’t want them to leave.

It’s giving him a headache and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Obi-Wan doesn’t seem frightened by his mood or anything so he lets himself stew.

Aayla seems to think he’s being stupid and tells him so. At least he thinks she does, Jango is much better with Ryl insults and threats than casual conversation and Obi-Wan makes a choking noise from his perch.

Jango crouches down in front of her and tells her very seriously that she is much too young to understand whether his thoughts and worries are stupid or not.

She tells him that adults are stupid and he’s thinking too hard. Jango does not appreciate her advice but does pass her a piece of fruit.

It’s enough to convince her to try and meditate with Obi-Wan on the wisdom of subtly.

They’re a good teacher, as far as Jango can tell. He has no doubt they’re handling the basic force stuff well enough, Aayla obviously loves the katas she’s learning and almost falls into a trance several times. Jango is fairly sure that’s the goal and even if it isn’t Obi-Wan seems to have a handle on what’s safe.

He lets himself calm and watch Aayla trip over her own feet trying to copy Obi-Wan’s more complex movements. He’ll worry about his thoughts and fears as they come.

Jango decides to take a chance in one of the quiet moments on the ship, he’ll never get anywhere if he doesn’t start asking questions, finding out what Obi-Wan wants. Aayla’s taking a nap and it’s just him and Obi-Wan sitting in the cockpit with some shig he threw together after hearing Obi-Wan’s nostalgia for tea.

It’s as good a moment as any.

“Jango?” A hesitant voice beats him to it.

“Hmmm?”

“What’s going to happen? To me?” They’re staring down at their mug and avoiding his gaze. “I know I said I’d go to Mandalore with you but… what then?”

He should have known they’d be nervous about that, he’s been nervous about it.

“Well, technically, you’re still young enough to be a foundling so… If you want we could try to find a clan for you, you’d have to learn Mando’a and how to be Mando’ad but, I think you’d make a good Mandalorian.”

“Really?” They look slightly incredulous at the thought. “I don't want to give up my beliefs... even if I'm not a Jedi anymore. I don’t like killing people.”

Jango just shrugs in response. “Maybe so, but you did try to stab me when we first met, that’s a very Mandalorian move.” He teases gently.

“I am sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize for defending yourself.” Jango dismisses easily.

“Alright, so I could… get adopted? What if no one wants me? What if I don’t want to?”

“Then you don’t have to, there’s a few options. As for no one wanting you If you'd like… you could stay with me.” He offers lightly, not wanting to push too far.

“You?” They squeak. Jango forces himself to look them in the eye, regardless of what they chose, he needs them to know that he means it.

“Yes. I cannot say I’m the best choice or the right one but I would be honored.”

“Oh, um, I-I…” Their eyes are wide, “I should meditate.”

They scramble to their feet, bow reflexively and flee.

Well, Jango, you did what you could, it’s up to them now, and the force, apparently.

-

Obi-Wan needs space, Jango is content to give them all they need.

Given how loud he apparently thinks he isn’t sure he wants to be in an enclosed space with them anyway.

It can’t be easy to meditate with him pacing circles so he heads out to check the exterior of the ship and maybe stalk the marketplace.

There’s eyes on him, not that that’s anything new.

These aren’t the standard watching eyes.

Not the fearful peeking out behind corners at the fully equipped Mandalorian, not the curious eyes of a child, not the subtle glare of a local who doesn’t want the trouble he’s sure to bring.

This is someone who knows what they’re doing.

They’re good.

Jango’s subtle glances give him no indication of where his stalker is hiding. He wishes he’d closed the ramp as soon as he’d left the ship.

Normally he’d step into the nearest alley and deal with what comes but, glancing carefully back at the ship, he finds he can’t. He has to consider that they might not be here for him and he has a responsibility to protect.

Obi-Wan hasn’t left the ship in days and neither has Aayla, Jango can only hope his pursuer hasn’t been watching long enough to know about them. Either way, they’re vulnerable and Jango can’t leave them.

He leaves a hand casually on his pistol and waits.

There’s a light step behind him and Jango moves.

The space between them lights up bright blue and a distinct buzzing noise assails his ears.

There’s a blond man with cold blue eyes holding a lightsaber to his neck.

Jango has a blaster to his head.

They stare at each other, at an impasse, a very delicate impasse.

“Don’t move.”

“What do you want?” He grits out, maybe this is a Jedi, maybe it isn’t, they’re both far too close to his ship either way. He can’t guarantee that he can keep him out if he needs to.

“What do you want with the younglings?” The stranger returns.

“What younglings?” Jango keeps his voice impassive, grateful for his helmet hiding his expression. The possible Jedi’s eyes grow even harder and his muscles tense in preparation.

Jango’s ready to respond further when the man’s eyes flick behind his head and widen at the sight of something behind him, he really hopes that’s not what he thinks it is.

“Obi-Wan?” It’s almost a whisper, full of disbelief and hope. He lowers his lightsaber slightly and Jango takes the opportunity to put some distance between them and risk a glance behind him.

Obi-Wan is standing cautiously at the edge of the ramp, Aayla tucked behind them protectively.

“Yes?”

“You’re alive.” The Jedi breathes out.

They nod, obviously a little unsure.

The Jedi smiles, the relieved, delicate little thing of someone who searches and searches and rarely sees a happy ending.

Then he straightens up and points his still lit lightsaber in Jango’s direction.

“Do I need to deal with him?”

“No! Um, Jango’s nice.” Aayla chooses to chime in as well, something about Jango and food? His Ryl is still… minimal.

The Jedi disengages his lightsaber and Jango cautiously holsters his blaster.

He allows a few seconds of wary stillness before sighing.

“Why don’t we take this inside?” He asks, pointedly tilting his head in the direction of a few eavesdropping mechanics.

“Of course,” The Jedi clips the lightsaber to his belt. “I’m Jedi Knight Feemor.”

“Jango Fett.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Jango Fett.” He smiles like a warning, like a threat.

-

Jango sets them up at his little table, it’s a bit of a squeeze but they make it work and moves to stand off to the side.

Feemor keeps looking over at Obi-Wan much to their clear discomfort. Jango decides they need a distraction.

“Feemor, this is Aayla Secura.”

Feemor drags his gaze away and gives a little bow that she copies with a grin.

“We’ve been looking for a Jedi to get her to the Jedi Temple.”

Feemor nods, “I’d be happy to bring her with me. I can go straight there now that I’ve completed my mission.”

He turns back to Obi-Wan. “I can’t believe it, we thought you were lost. We never stopped looking for you.”

“Really?” They whisper, vulnerable in a way that tells Jango they had long given up hope that anyone was coming for them.

Feemor nods with a sincerity Jango can almost taste. “We never stop looking for our lost children, it’s, it hurts but, sometimes, sometimes we find them.” His voice carries so much in it, Jango doesn’t know how to handle it. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”

Jango notes that he doesn’t say alright.

Obi-Wan nods, uncomfortable with the attention and glances up, “I was on Bandomeer.”

Feemor nods but doesn’t ask any more, Jango’s glad for it.

He visibly straightens and shifts to face in Jango’s direction.

“I don’t know the details, but thank you for taking care of them.” Jango isn’t sure how to respond to that, he’s not used to people thanking him so genuinely, even clients don’t thank a bounty hunter for a job well done. He nods, hoping he doesn’t look too uncomfortable.

Feemor doesn’t acknowledge his discomfort, shifting to kneel in front of Aayla. They converse quietly in Ryl and Obi-Wan stands to leave, taking Jango with them.

“He’s explaining the Jedi to her, what it means if she goes to the temple with him. She is older than most but they should accept her. The Force agrees.”

Jango follows them to the little kitchen and watches as they make tea, he didn’t even know he had the ingredients for it.

“Is it private?”

They pause in thought for a moment. “Not really, normally her parents would get most of the information but it’s her life, I just-I need some space, I wasn’t expecting…”

“Would you like me to leave?”

“No, I don’t mind, just, could you take your helmet off? It’s hard to feel you when you wear it.”

Jango considers it for a moment before complying, he knows he’s made the right choice when Obi-Wan visibly relaxes and goes back to his preparations.

“I wasn’t expecting it so soon.”

Jango hums in acknowledgement.

“I-I don’t have an answer for you, I don’t know what the Force wants, I don’t even know if I still want to be a Jedi, I don’t think I can-but, he’s here and I-I’m not ready to face it, actually saying goodbye. I don’t know how to tell him. I don't want to disappoint him.”

“Do you have to know?”

“What?”

“Do you have to choose now? If you stay until you figure it out, will they reject you? If they have searched months for you, surely they can wait a little longer for your answer.”

“I, I suppose.” They look so lost and turn to face him, “I’m sorry I don’t know.”

“I wasn’t expecting an answer right away. I wasn’t even expecting it soon. I can wait, Obi-Wan and so can the Jedi.” He tries for reassuring and knows he succeeds as Obi-Wan’s shoulder’s slump and they let out a shaky breath.

“Alright, thank you Jango.”

Jango is secretly a little glad when Feemor seems ready to leave. He isn’t used to so many people on his ship who aren’t bounties.

It’s new and a little awkward, neither of them quite sure how to act.

Obi-Wan takes a fortifying breath from his side and Jango nudges them forward slightly, careful to be gentle and avoid their still healing injuries.

They’ve both said their goodbyes to Aayla and Jango can tell by his sad smile Feemor knows they won’t be coming with.

“Thank you for bringing Aayla back to the temple with you.”

“Of course, you know Obi-Wan, you’ll always be welcome, even if it’s just a short visit.”

They nod, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Would you like me to take a message back for you?”

They look surprised but nod more certainly this time.

“Would you tell my crechemates I’m alright? I-I’m not sure, I don’t know if I’ll come back, but I don’t want them to worry.”

Feemor smiles, “of course, and you can certainly comm the temple when you feel ready for it.” He directs his gaze to Jango. “I’ll leave Obi-Wan to you, take good care of him.”

Jango nods and puts all his sincerity into his response. “You have my word.”

He listens as Feemor says one final long goodbye to Obi-Wan in that strange language and Obi-Wan answers in kind, it clearly means a lot to them.

Aayla tackles them in a final hug and holds Feemor’s hand as she walks away to her new life.

-

Jango almost misses the noise when they’re gone.

He breathes in deep through his nose and out again in a loud sigh.

“Want some Tiigilar?”

“That sounds nice.”

“Great, I’m giving you more spice this time, help build up some resistance.”

“I look forward to it.” Jango would make tiigilar everyday just to see the small smile dancing on Obi-Wan’s face.

-

They set course for Mandalore as soon as the ship is repaired and it’s safe to leave.

Jango has never missed his home more. He can’t wait to show it to Obi-Wan.

He’s more certain of his decision than ever now but it’s ultimately up to Obi-Wan.

He gives them space and time.

They don’t speak much for most of the trip. Obi-Wan clearly needs the quiet.

Jango finds one of his rattier blankets, folds it up and sets it in a quiet corner in the hold. They take to using it for their meditating. He isn’t sure how long meditations are supposed to last, it certainly seems long but Obi-Wan doesn’t seem tired or sick so he lets it be.

Sometimes they sit with him in the cockpit and ask quiet questions, about Mandalore, about him. He tries to respond in kind, asking about the temple they grew up in, their friends.

He doesn’t understand a lot of it but it's nice to hear them talk about their people, and the Jedi are their people, for all that Jango wishes that they could be one of his people too.

-

He wakes up a few hours before their arrival on Mandalore to an empty room. Obi-Wan has already left, the bunk they’ve been using made up properly for the day ahead.

Jango shuffles through the motions of getting ready before going to make sure they’ve eaten something.

Obi-Wan can be… odd about food sometimes, it’s something Jango has been watching. They’re happy to eat whatever he offers but aren’t confident enough sometimes to make their own or tell him they’re hungry.

He finds them in the little kitchen, humming quietly and making tea.

They’re going through the motions and look content so Jango figures they aren’t too stressed about the impending changes that will surely come in just a few hours.

“Good morning, Jango.”

There’s something in the air, or maybe their tone that has him straightening up and paying attention.

“...Good morning.”

“Would you like some tea?”

Jango does not particularly care for tea but something urges him to accept anyway.

“If you’re offering.”

Obi-Wan nods, pleased, and shuffles through his supplies to find some cups.

Jango settles in at the little table.

“If I accept your offer… would you stop me if I wanted to go back?”

Jango straightens even further in his chair. They're still facing away from him, casually busying themself with the cups.

“No, you are old enough to make choices and they are your own.”

They nod and finish pouring the tea.

He watches them position the cups, both set out in front of them. They make no move to give him any and he accepts that this is something important he does not understand. They take a fortifying breath.

“The Force tells me to wait, I’m not ready to be a Jedi, it may not be in my future at all anymore, but if my path changes, I will follow it no matter what.” Jango meets their eyes and sees nothing but truth and determination in them. He nods.

“I understand.” There is anticipation in the air now, so strong it feels as if he could see the future being written in this moment.

“Then I accept, I’ll stay with you.”

Jango doesn’t bother to keep the smile from his face, he hopes that Obi-Wan’s force whispers his joy.

“Um, how does it...?"

“There is a vow, in basic it means I know your name as my child. It is a promise that I adopt you and swear to see you a proper Mando’ad of my clan and house.”

“What if I’m not a proper Mando’ad?”

“It is my responsibility and my success or failure, there is no going back for me, although the child can disown their parent if necessary.”

“Alright, um, I accept.”

“Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes lose focus for a moment before zeroing back in on him.

“Oh,” they look a little overwhelmed, “um, here.” They set the tea in front of him and look away, blushing slightly.

“Thank you.” He takes it and, watching Obi-Wan carefully, takes a tentative sip, it’s good. Much better than he was expecting from tea that was presumably scrounged up from his own stores.

They watch him for a moment before taking a sip of their own tea and setting it down.

“The Jedi don’t have adoption traditions, at least that I know of, and I don’t know much about Stewjon, but I thought it might fit...” Jango makes a small noise to let them know he’s listening. “Making and sharing food and especially tea is special. It’s a sharing of care and time. We often share a meal or tea at the beginning of a new relationship, a new padawan, a new knight, even a new initiate. Change is a part of life and the Force, we accept it, celebrate it, even when..." they pause and swallow lightly, "even when it’s hard.”

“Thank you for sharing with me.” Jango doesn’t know what else to say, this moment feels so indescribably precious. He has no idea what he’s doing, how to be a parent, how to care for a deeply hurting child, how to handle magic.

All he knows is the joy and the cooling tea and the quiet care of sharing a culture and a soul.

All the rest is for the future.