Work Text:
“Let me see if I understand you.” Mace Windu leaned forward in his seat, steepling his fingers. “Your last mission was to escort a diplomatic envoy to a trade conference.”
His grandpadawan—now a Knight in his own right, after all these years, and looking very mature and grown-up as he stood in the middle of the council chamber—nodded. “Yes, Master Windu.”
“If I recall correctly, the mission was supposed to be low-risk and short-term, after which you were to return directly to the Temple.”
“Something like that, Master Windu.”
Mace sighed deeply, closing his eyes against the oncoming headache. “Then, please, explain why you disappeared for two years and brought a Mandalorian terrorist and a Sith apprentice with you when you came back.”
“Not a terrorist,” groused the girl standing to the right and half a step behind Caleb.
“Not a Sith,” added the gold-eyed boy sulking on his other side.
Mace looked to Caleb, who shrugged. “I mean… technically, Ezra isn’t a Sith. He’s a Dark acolyte.”
The boy apparently called Ezra scowled deeply, hunching his shoulders and crossing his arms. “My name is Vengens.”
The Mandalorian girl—not much older than the young acolyte; probably eighteen or nineteen—snorted in derision, tossing her hair. “It’s cute that you think changing your name to ‘vengence’ makes you scarier, Ezra.”
“You know, I’m still planning on killing you,” Ezra said snippily, and she just laughed.
“I’d like to see you try.”
“That can be arranged!”
Without looking behind him, Caleb reached back and caught the back of Ezra’s collar, pulling him away from the girl just as he took a step forward. He put himself between the two youths like they were merely bickering children, and not a Dark warrior and a (possible?) terrorist about to tear each other’s throats out.
Ezra snarled, baring his teeth. The girl smirked and made a rude gesture in response. Caleb just pinched his brow and sighed, as if this was perfectly routine for them.
“Don’t make me take out the get-along shirt, you two.”
Now the boy’s glare was leveled on Caleb. “You’re first on my kill list, Jedi.”
Unphased, Caleb gave the boy’s hair a condescending ruffle. “That’s very nice, kiddo.”
Master Kenobi, lounging slightly in his seat and looking somewhat amused, spoke up. “May I ask just what your intent was in bringing these two here?”
“Well… I didn’t really bring them here. They followed me. Sabine wants to kill me because she hates all Jedi and I was particularly annoying—thwarting her plans, all that. And Ezra—”
“Vengens.”
“—wants to kill me for offing his Dark master. Though I’m still not sure that guy’s dead. He might be too angry to die. Anyway, they follow me around and stop each other from killing me so they can do it themself. And I keep them from killing each other.” Caleb threw one arm around each of the youths accompanying him, hugging them to his sides in a jokingly affectionate way. “We’re a dysfunctional family, but we make it work, don’t we, kids?”
Sabine responded by whipping a vibroblade out of nowhere and making a stab at Caleb’s chest, only for her hand to freeze in place, the point of the blade actually pressed against Caleb’s robes.
Caleb casually plucked it out of her hand and stashed it in his pocket, then gave Ezra a friendly pat on the back. “Nice save, kid.”
Looking at Sabine, he added in a stern voice: “We talked about this, young lady. Absolutely no stabbing allowed.”
The boy released his Force-hold on Sabine’s arm, and she stepped back quickly, shaking her hand like some trace of the Force remained on it and she wanted it off. The look she gave to Ezra was downright murderous. “On second thought, I think I’ll kill you first and save the Jedi for later, wizard boy.”
The boy considered her for a second, looking close to an angry reply, before his expression relaxed slightly… and then a smirk that was downright devious danced across his face.
“Y’know, Sabine, I think the angrier you get, the cuter you are.”
That, more than anything else before, made the girl flame with fury. (Mace suspected that was exactly why Ezra said it.)
“Oh, you just wait until I get my hands on you—”
“So, you admit you can’t keep your hands off me?”
“I’ll cut off your head and bring it to my mother on a beskar platter.”
“Isn’t it a little soon to introduce me to your family?” he grinned, clearly relishing the rise he was getting out of her. “I wouldn’t say we’re that serious.”
Apparently, that was one antagonistic line too many for the girl to handle—Sabine stalked forward, gripping a fistful of his shirt to hold him in place as she hissed right in his face.
“If you make one more quip, so help me, I will break every bone in your body, starting with everything in your face.”
He stared at her in silence. “Ezra…” Caleb said warningly, and Mace got the sense that the boy was weighing whether or not the joy of antagonizing her was worth getting punched in the nose.
Mace saw the exact moment he decided.
Ezra’s golden eyes twinkled and a grin twitched the corner of his mouth for a second. Instantly, Sabine’s other hand clenched into a fist and Caleb took a step closer.
“Kid, do not—”
The boy looked dead into Sabine’s eyes and smirked.
“You wanna kiss me so bad…”
Sabine’s face turned even redder with fury and she reared her free hand back, but before her fist could make contact with Ezra’s face, Caleb intervened. In a practiced move, he darted in and scooped her up under one arm, right as Ezra dodged and ran—or at least, tried to. Caleb snagged him in the other hand and yanked him back, holding him out at arm’s length as he put Sabine back on her feet and then held her back as well.
He leveled a stern glare at Sabine.
“Sabine, do you remember the conversation we had about appropriate times to punch faces?”
She glared at him.
“Do you?”
“Yeah,” she grumbled, crossing her arms.
“And do you remember our little talk about controlling our anger before it controls us?”
“Yes.”
“Now, do you think you could have—”
“Yeah, I coulda handled the situation differently!” she snarled, as if they’d had this exact conversation many times before. Though, the look she was giving Ezra as she spoke gave Mace the impression that her idea of “handling the situation differently” might have involved a sucker-punch to the gut or a swift kick somewhere painful. “Now aren’t you gonna yell at Ezra? Because he started it!”
“Of course. I was just getting to that.” Caleb turned his head to look at the boy. “Ezra, you’re grounded.”
“What?!”
“No HoloNet or holofilms for two days, and you have to apologize to Sabine.”
“That’s not fair!” the boy squawked. “She doesn’t have to apologize, and she was gonna punch my face in!”
“She was provoked. By you. And let’s make that three days, for talking back.”
Ezra glowered daggers. “You know what? Kriff you!”
“Four days and a credit in the swear jar,” Caleb shot back instantly. “I can keep going all day, kid. Now is Sabine gonna get that apology, or do I need to take away your saber, too?”
Mace leaned back in his seat, watching the boy go through the process of deliberation again. Finally, he sighed loudly, nostrils flaring.
“Fine. I apologize.”
Caleb took a step back, no longer blocking the kids’ view of each other. “You apologize to Sabine.”
Ezra looked like he was in actual pain—and directing all that pain into anger—as he met the Mandalorian’s eyes and spoke stiffly.
“I apologize for making you mad on purpose. Even though yesterday, you were the one who—”
Caleb stepped back between them. “Okay, quit while you’re ahead.” He looked up at the rest of the Council as if he’d just remembered they were there, and chuckled apologetically. “Sorry about that, Masters.”
Master Kenobi cleared his throat slightly, signalling he wanted to speak.
“So… these two, ah…” he ventured, looking a little bit consternated as he gestured to the two youths. “I admit, I’m… rather confused about the relationship here, considering the…”
“Mixed signals?” Caleb filled in dryly. “The relationship here is insults, death threats, and pushing buttons.”
“I assume what he was doing falls under category three?” Mace spoke up, crossing his arms and wondering why he found the whole thing vaguely humorous.
“You assume correctly, Master Windu. Unfortunately.” Caleb sighed deeply. “Force. He’s bad enough, but you should see Sabine when she goes at it. Last time she turned on the charm, it took three days for the kid to snap. The brawl ended with a sofa sliced in half, the ship’s A/C broken, my best frying pan ruined, and Ezra losing his lightsaber privileges for a month.”
“It’s a kind of psychological warfare,” Sabine put in.
“It absolutely is, and it should probably be illegal. Ezra, you keep making faces at Sabine and I’m gonna upgrade that grounding to a full week and extra chores.”
It took Mace a second to catch up to the abrupt change in subject, and apparently it did for Ezra too, because he kept making faces at the girl for another second before his eyes opened wide and he whirled incredulously on Caleb.
“Wha—how did you—you can’t even see me!” the boy protested.
“I just know. Special Jedi powers.”
A creaky laugh came from Master Yoda, and he spoke up.
“Saw your reflection in the window, he did. Mindful, must you be, of your surroundings, Padawan. Betray you, they do.”
The boy took a step forward and was promptly yanked backward by Caleb. “Who’s calling me a Padawan?!”
“O-kay, kiddo, let’s dial it back a bit,” Caleb said quickly. “Try and attack Master Yoda and you are definitely losing your saber for a while.”
Ezra glared at him now. “Well, it’s not like it matters. I’ll have killed you before you can take it away.”
Sabine crossed her arms. “Not if I kill him first.”
“Not if I kill you first.”
“And you can’t do that if you’re already dead, so I guess I’m bumping you off first.”
“Kids,” Caleb interrupted loudly, holding up both hands for silence. Then he spoke to the Council. “Look, Masters… I don’t mean to walk out on you, but these two are about to snap. I gotta take them down to a salle and let them wear each other out before they start brawling in here. Less property damage that way. I can come back when they’ve cooled off, or send in a written report, or…”
Mace glanced at the two youths, who seemed to be engaged in a glaring contest.
“I don’t see a problem with that. If there’s no objections… then Knight Dume, you are excused.”
“Great! Come on, kids, let’s go somewhere you can’t break.”
Caleb shepherded the two teenagers out the door, and it closed behind them. For a second, there was quiet, as everyone mulled over the new developments.
“Master Yoda, why did you call that boy a Padawan?” Master Ti asked suddenly.
Yoda chuffed in slow amusement. “Not see it, did you? A Padawan, that boy is. Mmm, yes. A Padawan, he is.”
Master Kenobi stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Really, now. Taking a Dark acolyte as a Padawan while the boy is actively trying to kill him. That’s something I’d expect of Anakin, not Caleb Dume.” he paused, suddenly, frowning. “Say, I wonder who that boy’s first master was…”
“Hm.” Master Mundi tilted his head to one side. “He didn’t mention that, did he?”
Master Kenobi shook his head. “No, but I suppose it doesn’t matter in the end. I’m sure Knight Dume would have said if it was anyone we knew...”