Chapter Text
It started with a scowl.
Not that Obi-Wan Kenobi, full-time Jedi Knight of the Republic and current exhausted traveller, could really tell under the helmet. Beskar alloys tended to befuddle the Force’s ability to sense emotions, and the classic T-visor covering the Mandalorian’s face concealed the physical evidence of a scowl.
He was ninety percent sure it was indeed a scowl though. The freighter captain who had been giving him a tour of her ship certainly seemed to think so, if her awkward silence was any indication. She had been hired by the Jedi Order to pick up a weary Knight with no credits nor (uncrashed) ship to return home from a spaceport in the back-end of the Outer Rim. Amaris was her name, a Pantoran smuggler who was now dubiously on the straight and narrow - held to be reliable and discreet according to Quinlan, not that that said much.
They had just entered the tiny galley-cum-cantina when a frisson of shock and sullen anger had washed over Obi-Wan. A figure clad in full beskar armor, painted blue and white, sat half-shadowed in the corner. Amaris trailed off from her parsec-a-minute retelling of her partner Tryx's latest misadventure with the astrobotany systems when she noticed the armored figure, and Obi-Wan’s pause. She looked anxiously back and forth between the two, one aborting a half-made reach for his blaster, the other carefully keeping his hands out to the side, away from his lightsaber hilt.
“I trust there won’t be a problem here, gentlemen?”
The Mando grunted. “I didn’t know you were bringing one of them aboard. One of the Republic’s attack dogs on this ship, and you a smuggler.”
Obi-Wan kept his face blank. The Mandalorian Excision - or Annihilation depending on which histories you were reading - had been the freshest and most damning example of how the Republic and the Senate utilized their Jedi "peacekeepers". At least, up until the debacle known as the mission to Galidraan. He couldn't fault any Mandalorian for being leery of being around Jedi. He tried not to think about how it went the other way - slugthrowers, explosives and numbers could take any Knight out, no matter how skilled with a lightsaber.
"Former smuggler. Current captain of this ship. A ship which costs credits to run, which both of you have paid."
Amaris folded her arms, her tone firmer with every word.
"So if you can't be civil to each other, I'll drop both of you into the closest breathable atmosphere and let you duke it out in peace."
Obi-Wan gave a shallow bow, chuckling internally.
"I assure you, that won't be necessary."
A creaking of the galley's seating. A scraping of beskar vambraces against the galley's table.
"Elek. No fighting on the ship."
Amaris laughed suddenly.
"Aye, I suppose that is the best I can hope for. No fighting on the ship."
She turned to lead Obi-Wan through the rest of the tour, pausing on the threshold.
"Oh, but where are my manners? Tryx would never forgive me. Can't have you two glowering at each other without knowing who you're glowering at."
She waved a hand from roughspun robes to sturdy armor, and back.
"Kenobi, Fett. Fett, Kenobi."