the coronet, a new mandalorian luxury liner, was a sight to behold. the ship itself was decorated lavishly with fine exports from worlds within the mandalore sector; as if to somehow prove its immense wealth even more.

duchess satine kryze was the owner of the coronet, and the ambitious pacifist leader of mandalore. she and a handful of well-to-do republic senators were travelling to core world coruscant, to assert mandalore’s position of neutrality in the clone wars.

satine would never bow to the republic, nor to the separatists.

it was simply not in her warrior’s blood. you, however, had been sent by the jedi council to protect the duchess from assassination attempts by the mandalorian terrorist faction death watch. so far, satine was safe, and currently arguing with you about the war.

it seemed you two still had much to resolve from your shared history.

“the jedi are not peacekeepers in this war, they are a collection of half-truths and hyperbole!” satine proclaimed crisply from her plush seat in one of the coronet’s receiving rooms, her willowy build and sharp pale features in utter contrast with another.

the other senators in the room sipped at their flutes of mild alcohol, entertained by your arguments. both you and satine had changed over the years; but the love remained. it always did.

at your snarky response, satine rose gracefully, shoulder-length blonde hair bobbing beneath her intricate headpiece. “the delusion of a dreamer,” she huffed unkindly, stepping far too close to your figure.

this close, the blue of her eyes reminded you of cornflowers, forbidden kisses from your time on the run, the blooming feeling of young love —

no. no, not now. it was all far too late.