On the third day on Vadiira, nearly twenty ships drilled formations overhead while Qui-Gon, connected by remote transmission, walked Kurt through the fundamentals of lightsaber form.
Obi-Wan stood off to the side, watching with a faintly resigned smile.
This had all started the afternoon of the argument.
Obi-Wan had carried the blood sample back to the Republic Consular-class cruiser and opened a channel to the Council.
“What is it, Obi-Wan?
Trouble with the Mandalore assignment?” This time it was Master Mace Windu who answered the transmission.
“No, Master.
The mission itself is proceeding well enough.
But Master Qui-Gon has found a Force-sensitive here — though he’s older than usual, deeply entangled with worldly attachments, and shows some drift toward the darker edges of the Force.
Master Qui-Gon believes he may be the Chosen One of prophecy, and has already begun training him.” Obi-Wan laid it all out for Windu.
“I see.
I’ll bring this to the rest of the Council.” Windu weighed it for a moment.
“Until then, Master Qui-Gon may continue instructing him in the Light side of the Force.
Once your mission concludes, perhaps bring him to Coruscant as well.”
“Understood.
I’ll keep an eye on the boy.” Obi-Wan closed the channel and turned to running the blood sample’s midi-chlorian count.
He stared at the readout on his screen, and the number staring back nearly knocked him off his feet.
“Over twenty thousand.
By the Force.” Obi-Wan opened a channel to Qui-Gon immediately.
“Master!
Kurt’s midi-chlorian count — it’s higher than Master Yoda’s.”
Qui-Gon’s own surprise carried through the comm.
“Then perhaps he truly is the Chosen One.
We must train him.
He must become a Jedi.”
And so it had come to this — Qui-Gon instructing on one side, Obi-Wan watching with that same resigned smile, and Satine, with no war or politics demanding her attention for once, quietly observing the whole scene.
“Like this.
This is Form I, Shii-Cho — every Padawan learns this before moving to any other form.
But you should fold your Mandalorian combat instincts into it as you go.
It’ll help you understand the later forms faster.
Take it slowly, though — understanding comes with time.” Qui-Gon demonstrated as he explained.
“Understood, Master.
I’ll work on Form I.” Kurt committed the base movements and principles to memory, drilling them with a beskar blade in hand — he had no lightsaber of his own yet.
On the fourth day on Vadiira, the rest of the trusted crew and the younger children arrived, and the AI had already raised three supply outposts on the moon’s open plains to house them, beginning the work of making the settlement self-sufficient.
By the eighth day, training had progressed well enough, though four Wraiths would stay behind to guard everyone — no telling if Death Watch might find their way to Vadiira.
“Lei, you’re staying here to watch over the family.” Kurt assigned him to the moon’s defense.
“Aw, come on…” Lei’s disappointment was pure childish sulking.
“Next time you’ll rotate with the others.”
“Yes!”
With that, five Vikings, eight Wraiths, and a single Kom’rk lifted off from Vadiira, bound once more for Mandalore.
Meanwhile, on Concord Dawn, Jango Fett was finalizing arrangements of his own.
“Kal, you’ll handle the continued offensive against Death Watch.
I’m taking a team to Sundari for the negotiation.”
“Copy that, Jango.
I’ll keep the pressure on.” Kal Skirata answered, drawing his twin pistols out of habit as he spoke.
Jango boarded Slave I with six traditionalist Mandalorians and set off for Sundari, while Kurt brought his new squadron home to find Satine and Qui-Gon’s party already waiting at the spaceport.
“He truly is a prodigy — bringing back a squadron capable of turning this whole war on its head.” Obi-Wan watched Kurt’s ships descend through the atmosphere, head tilted skyward.
“I did say so.” Qui-Gon shrugged, as though the Chosen One living up to prophecy was the least surprising thing in the galaxy.
“All right, Master.
I concede the point on his talent.” Obi-Wan, for once, found himself fully in agreement with his master.
“He may well be the one to end this civil war and become the next unifying force for Mandalore.” By now, Satine had fully accepted that her cousin might become exactly that.
While the three of them talked, Kurt’s squadron finally touched down at Sundari’s spaceport.
“Well, you’re all here waiting for me again — you really shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.
How’s the fighting been?” Kurt climbed down from the lead Kom’rk.
“Since the last strike, they’ve pulled way back.
Mostly just bombings and bounty hunter attacks now, and Master Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan have handled every one of them.”
“Good trend.
Death Watch won’t have much left to throw at Sundari for much longer.
Now let’s go talk to the council about what these ships are worth — credits, materials, whatever we can get.” Kurt, Satine, and Qui-Gon boarded a transport together, heading for the city center.
“Almec won’t hand over much without a fight.
He’s a rigid pacifist,” Satine warned.
“Understood, Cousin.
I’ll find terms he can live with.” Kurt had already studied Almec closely enough to know exactly what mattered to him — giving up direct government ownership of weapons was non-negotiable for him, and so was Kurt eventually taking his people and leaving Sundari once the war ended.
Both fit neatly within Almec’s political comfort zone.
Before long they arrived at the council chambers, where Almec and the rest of the council stood waiting for Satine and Kurt.
“It’s been a while, Commander Kurt.
Whatever you’ve brought back this time has clearly shifted the balance in our favor.
Let’s discuss it inside.” Almec led everyone into the chamber.
“After you, First Minister Almec.
You’ve given so much to New Mandalore yourself — thanks to you and the Duchess handling the administration, I’ve had the freedom to focus entirely on fighting Death Watch.” Kurt laid the flattery on thick, not meaning a word of it.
This kid doesn’t act eleven at all, Almec thought privately.
The council settled in to discuss pricing for the new equipment.
“Commander Kurt, as a committed pacifist, I don’t, as a matter of principle, want weapons flowing into New Mandalore’s government.
But given the terrorism we’re currently facing, we’ve been forced into purchasing new hardware regardless.
That said, the credits and resources we can offer are limited.”
“First Minister Almec, I understand the government’s reluctance to hold weapons directly.
But you know as well as I do that Death Watch has already broken through into Sundari itself — we can’t simply look away from that.
If direct government ownership is the concern, we can structure this as a hiring arrangement instead.
The government would owe me five hundred thousand credits, plus routine maintenance and repair costs, and mining rights to the asteroid belt near Vadiira — or alternatively, an uninhabited planet of comparable value.” Kurt had already worked out exactly how he wanted this framed: walk away with the money once the war ended, leave the ships as his own, leave the government as it was.
“No.
That’s far too much — you can’t ask for five hundred thousand credits and ownership of a planet.” Almec had nearly cut him off halfway through, but professional restraint won out and he let Kurt finish.
“The mining rights around Vadiira alone, that we could accept.”
“Fine.
Three hundred thousand credits and the mining rights.
Final offer.” This had been Kurt’s actual target figure all along — he’d have gone lower if pressed.
“Thoughts?” Almec turned to the rest of the council.
“Agreed.”
“Agreed.”
All four council members voted in favor, leaving Almec with no room to object further — not with Satine sitting right there.
“Then it’s settled.
A pleasure doing business, First Minister Almec.”
“Likewise, Commander Kurt.”
Both sides satisfied, they shook hands to close the negotiation, and Satine pulled Kurt aside into a quiet corner.
“Is that enough credits?
If not, House Kryze can cover the difference.” She caught his arm, drawing him away from the others.
“No, Cousin, it’s plenty.
But I want Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan to get you out of Sundari before this war is fully won.
It isn’t safe here.
If more bounty hunters or Death Watch operatives come after you, I’m afraid of what happened to your father happening again.”
“That won’t happen.
Both Masters are here, and so are you.” Satine refused to believe anyone could reach her under these circumstances.
“Sundari has too many eyes, too many ears.
Somewhere else might be safer for now — or back to Kalevala.” Kurt offered an alternative.
“I won’t leave, Kurt.
Whatever happens, I won’t abandon my people.” Satine’s stubbornness held firm.
“All right.” Kurt let it drop, out of arguments.