Chapter Text
“What's up with you?” Zyran said, pulling off their helmet and glancing sideways at their vod.
Kearkay just sighed, then straightened up to look at them, “I saw a Jetii,” she said in such an enamored voice Zyran almost gagged.
“Jetii aren’t real vod” Regen scoffed as they slid into the worn booth. The sticky floors and worn-down furniture showed this particular cantina had seen better years.
“Jetii are real, I saw her! She saved a whole ship of ade from crashing, had a laser sword, and her eyes glowed!”
“Sith have glowing eyes,” Regen pointed out in the tone of voice that said they thought they had won the argument. Zyran rolled their eyes, lekku twitching.
“Not like that. Sith eyes are like… radioactive waste, I’ve seen the holos. This was like someone had tried to put a star into a sentient body, and it didn’t fit all the way.” Kearkay had no idea how right they were, at least in some Jedi schools of thought.
Zyran’s lekku twitched again, “It's useless pining, you utreekov . If it was a Jetii, you're never going to see her again, and we have a job to do.”
~***~***~***~
Kearkay saw her again
~***~***~***~
The first time, Kearkay sees the Jetii at a festival on some Outer Rim planet.
She’s helping a friend of hers, an ethnographer documenting the religious traditions of the native people. The Jetii is there with her jet’ika, and Kearkay only sees her for a moment, but the Jetii smiles, and the jet’ika waves before they duck into the crowd. Kearkay almost walks into a wall.
~***~***~***~
Why Kearkay had taken this job with these idiot smugglers she had no idea. It wasn’t even the money. Maybe boredom? She’d been feeling restless, and none of the jobs in the area looked good so she went with this one, and now she was in a Hutt warehouse . At least, she was pretty sure it was the Hutt’s. She sighed, shifting her weight. Adjusted her blaster. Manda, the air was dry here. Shifted again.
There was the faintest shuff sound to her right. Eager for a distraction from the (mercifully quiet) smuggler pontificating to the warehouse manager, she slanted her eyes without moving her head.
It was her , montrals barely peeking out around a tall shelving unit. She subtly pointed at the smuggler and the warehouse manager and then made a cutting motion over her throat.
Huh. Well time to see if the rumors about Jetii were true. Kearkay blinked the sequence to start her helmet-cam recording. Then she thought very hard, ‘why should I do that’ and the strongest confusion she could muster. The Jetii’s eyes went wide, then crinkled at the edges with a pleased smile. ‘Ade’ she signed, with the slightest flick of her fingers. OH. Well. Not questioning how the Jetii new Mando’a hand-sign, Kearkay lunged, hitting both smuggler and manager hard over the head. They went down in an unceremonious heap.
“There are ade here?” She finally got a good look at the Togruta, and was glad her helmet hid her blush.
“Su cuy’gar burc’ya. Yes, at least fifteen, if not more. They’re somewhere in the backroom, and down.”
And she knew Mando’a, of course. The Jetii stalked further into the warehouse; footsteps silent as a Hoth owl’s wings.
“How did you know they’d be here?” Was it the Force? An informant? She put a hand over her holster as they jogged down the steps, ready for whatever was at the bottom.
“I’ve been tracking this operation for a month, since they took the child I was looking for. There are guards behind this door.”
Kearkay was almost startled by the seeming non sequitur, but the mission focus had settled in, and the ade needed her to stay present. She readied her blaster, standing on the opposite side of the door from where the other woman crouched, fiddling with the keypad. The door opened with a hisss-creak and Kearkay fired one-two-three, and two guards went down. She turned at a light thunk.
“Nice shot,” said the Jetii, standing over the bodies of two other guards. Kearkay just nodded.
“Right, okay, this door… stay on watch? I didn’t have time to check if there were more beings in the area, and I need to focus on getting the locking mechanisms open.” She sat down hard, lekku swaying, hands resting on her thighs, eyes closed.
The air went still and weighty. Kearkay felt a shiver up her spine and her tendrils itch, ancient instincts warning not to turn her back on a predator, but she stayed rooted facing the door.
There was a grinding of gears, rumbling, and a tremor running through the stone floor.
Then a shriek, a child's voice, and Kearkay whips around as one of the children in the cell flies out and falls into the Jetii’s arms, sobbing. The Jetii rubs their back, rumbling a purr. Kearkay decides they’ll have enough warning and moves softly to the door crouching down on one side.
“Ade? Younglings? Are any of you hurt? We won’t hurt you; we want to help you get free, back to your families or to new homes.”
The children shuffled, the oldest one, maybe fourteen standard, moving to the front, “Why should we trust you, this could just be a trap.”
“It’s okay,” piped up a small voice from the back. A tiny child shoved past the older ade trying to push them back, and grinned up at Kearkay, “They’re safe, the Big Feeling told me so! And the other lady, the one Lekaudi jumped on, she’s a Jedi!”
That certainly caused a stir. Every being had heard of Jetii at least once, even if they only thought they were spacer tales. But even the space tales agreed that a Jetii could be trusted to help those in need, to be kind and brave and fight with a cool laser sword.
The small child walked right up the Kearkay, fearless as a striil pup and held out a hand, “I’m Perun, I’m five! It’s nice to meet you.”
Kearkay couldn’t help cooing inside the privacy of her helmet, before pulling it off and hooking it to her belt, then extending a hand to shake Perun’s, “I’m Kearkay Tufani. I’m a Mandalorian, and all Mandalorains swear a Code. Part of that Code is to protect children. Children are the Future.” She kept her voice soft, to not spook the ade behind Perun.
“That, our people agree on,” Said the Jetii, pulling the still sniffling ade onto her back.
She reached out to one of the older ade, “Gather your friends. My friend and I won’t harm you, like she said, children are precious. We will make sure you get somewhere safe. Now, follow me, if you need help please ask, I can carry one more, and I’m sure my friend can carry one or two of you.”
The ragtag group trudged out of the basement, Kearkay and the Jetii carrying two of the youngest ade each, the older three ade supporting the others. With surprising stealth, the whole group snuck out through the back door, out of the warehouse district, and to one of the ports.
The Jetii winced, stopping at the edge of the port, sliding Lekaudi and the littlest twi’lek to the ground, “We’ll have to split up. I can take Lekaudi, Perun and Kisa here, and we will draw away the slaving hut’uune that come after us, so they will not find you.”
The snarl in her voice startled Kearkay, but she agreed. The rest of the ade scowled or tried to argue, but the Jetii was firm, and Perun told them that she agreed with the Jetii. It was funny to see so many ade listen to a five-year-old, but it made getting the rest of them onto her ship much easier.
After distributing ration bars and water, and ensuring that all the ade had a place to sleep and at least a shared blanket, Kearkay moved to the pilot's seat to begin take-off. As she received the all-clear from the port authorities, she heard an explosion on the far side of the port, and one from where the warehouse (presumably) used to be. She sent a quick prayer to the Manda, then focused on getting the ship out of orbit and into hyperspace.
~***~***~***~
Kearkay is with Regen, on guard duty once again, this time for an insufferable, unimportant politician whose relieved threats for their policies. As far as Kearkay is concerned, they deserve it if they get assassinated, with how stupid they are about announcing their presence as loudly as possible wherever they go. Regen is the first to spot the sniper, and both activate their jetpacks to try and reach them before they can make the shot. Before Kearkay is even level with the roof, a blurred figure crashes into the sniper before they get a chance to blink.
Both figures go rolling over and over, getting dangerously close to the roof-edge. And then the figure in brown hits the sniper over the head, and pops up with a grin. The Jetii waves, “Su cuy, burc’yase! Better get back to your mark, they’re hopping mad.”
Before Regen or Kearkay can say anything, she hops back off the edge of the roof, and is gone by the time they reach the edge. They make their way down from the roof, sniper in cuffs, as slowly as they can excuse. Kearkay is going to mute her helmet speakers when the politician starts yelling.
~***~***~***~
The planet was freezing, cold enough that she couldn’t turn off the engines for fear of them freezing. Kearkay shouldn’t be here, but a remaining Death Watch cell might be, and someone needed to scout for them. Mand’alor Mereel was making incredible progress, but the last of Death Watch were like cockroaches.
The scanners finally beeped, picking up… something . What was that? Scattered metal, small patches a degree or two warmer than the snow around it, and… One figure, warm, but even as she watched, getting colder. She landed the ship as quickly as could be safe, pulled on an outer wrap, and stepped into the snow.
There is blood everywhere. The entire field of snow is soaked in blood. The bodies are clearly Death Watch, torn to shreds and strewn across the field. At the epicenter is a lone Togruti figure… Far, far too familiar.
Kearkay sprints across the field as fast as the snow allows, collapsing to her knees at the Jetii’s side. She rips off her wrap, bundles it up and packs it to the Jetii’s blood-soaked side. The woman rolls her head, and a small, pained smile graces her face.
“ Burc’ya . You came… I’d hoped you would-” She breaks off, shudders, coughs, sags.
“You knew I’d come?” Kearkay slid a hand under her neck, lifted and slid her closer.
The Jetii leaned in, voice hoarse, softer, “Hoped. Begged the Force. Could feel you coming, or near, or hear your voice, the visions weren’t clear. Knew I’d be okay, though.” She takes a deep breath, “I can’t get off-planet, my ship is too damaged, and I need to heal myself, but I can’t do it here. Too cold, too much energy. I’ll sleep for a day or two, and its too dangerous here.”
It’s an easy decision to make, and an easy offer, “I’ll get you somewhere safe Jetii. My ship has room.” She shifts her weight, braces, scoops up the Jetii and stands.
The woman winces, but doesn’t even gasp, and Kearkay can’t decide if that's good or a terrible sign. It’s probably bad in multiple ways, but she can’t think about it now.
She hurries back to the ship, prioritizes getting the Jetii warm and bandaged over not jostling her.
~***~***~***~
Getting the Jetii out of her robes and into a spare kute is a lesson in patience for Kearkay, as the Jetii seems to have lost the numbness of shock and cold, and flinches with the strain of movement and any flare of Kearkay’s emotions. And they do flare, fear and anger, at the pain the Jetii is in, and has clearly been through going by the scars. Worry for the Jetii, worry for what Death Watch is planning, for the Mand’alor. Anger, that Death Watch is still acting, still hurting people, hurt her Jetii.
But they get it done. Out of the robes, wounds cleaned, bacta applied, bandages secured. When that's done the Jetii finally explains how her healing works, using the Force and a meditative trance to speed up the natural processes. Before she puts herself under, they finally have a chance to introduce themselves, “I’m Thedai On-dee, by the way. Thank you for your kindness. And your assistance in the past, I meant to thank you earlier, and never had the chance.”
“No debt, Jetii. It was for ade, and it’s the least I can do. You took out a Death Watch base, any Mando’ade would thank you. And I’m Kearkay, Clan Tufani, House Wren.”
She makes sure the Jetii is settled and in her trance, then goes to comm her Aliit’alor. The Mand’alor needs to hear about this.