The Delusions of Dreamers

Two

The Duchess of Mandalore slammed the stall-door shut, locking herself in.  She slumped onto the lid of the toilet, and the tears began to flow.

They were somewhat safe now; the Padawan had taken the group to an old pub in a bustling part of Mandalore, and they all had on heavy coats as disguises.  But Satine's safety did not stop the tears.

It was so hard to pretend to be the perfect Duchess; she was new at it, after all.  And this civil war that she didn't ask for simply made everything more difficult.  Satine wanted to maintain peace, but how could she when her people were attempting assassination and fighting each other? 

Most of all, she did not want to run away from her people, no matter how scared she was.  And the little duchess was very frightened, even if two brave Jedi had come to save her.

Two infuriating Jedi, she thought, swiping at her tears.  Especially that Obi-Wan.  Maybe she could banish her unwanted feelings with anger.

Satine clenched her fists and stood up, grimacing when she heard a loud flush from the stall next to her.  What was the Duchess of Mandalore doing wallowing in her despair while sitting on a toilet?  She shook her head and unlocked the door, scolding herself for being so weak.

Then Satine saw her reflection in the grimy mirror and recoiled in horror.  She was a mess! Her shoulder-length blond hair looked like a rat's nest.  Her face was covered in dirt, dust, and cuts from the glass.  And her blue dress wasn't much different, with a huge tear down one side.  Not to mention her silver headpiece had been lost in the battle.

Oh, you'll pay for this, Obi-Wan.

She knew she should be thankful for him saving her life, and she was.  It was simply fun to be a pain in the ass sometimes.

Satine bent over and splashed water onto her face, thankful that the other person had already left the room.  She scrubbed her cheeks with her hands, then dried off with paper towels.

The duchess lifted her chin with a huff.  She may still look like shit, but she would maintain her dignity.

She strutted to the door and pushed it open, gagging at the stench of bodies and sweat and alcohol, which was only slightly better than the reek in the bathroom.

The pub was packed with drunkards.  Even in the midst of a civil war, people still felt the need to drink their sorrows away and party all night long.  It was actually just mid-morning, and Satine was disgusted by the fact that this many citizens were already drunk.

She started pushing her way through the crowd to get to her table where the Jedi sat, sipping water.  She was almost there when a huge, sweaty man grabbed her arm.

"Hello, pretty lady," he slurred, pulling her to him.  She tried to wrench her hand away, but he had an iron grip.  "How'd you like to come sit in my lap, eh?"

"Get away from me!" she growled.  She couldn't scream because if she attracted too much attention, people might notice who she really was.  "I said—"

The smack almost sent her to the floor, and she could feel it burn on her face, but the burly man yanked her up.  "Shut up, whore," he snarled, and continued to drag her to his table.  Angry tears sprang to life in her eyes.

"How dare you!" she said.  "Look at me when I talk to you, scoundrel." But it was a mistake.  The man did look at her, and his pudgy eyes lit up with recognition.

"Duchess Satine?" he shouted, swaying on his feet.  "Oh, please forgive me!" He fell to his knees and bowed low.  "How will I ever repay you?"

Satine looked around frantically.  She had lost sight of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, and people were starting to take notice.  Her hood had fallen down without her realizing it, so her face was now visible to everyone.  The duchess quickly flipped it back up, but it was too late.

"The Duchess?" someone shouted.

"What is Duchess Satine doing here?"

"I don't know, but now is a good time to get rid of her and end this war!"

"Yea!"

Satine backed into a table and scurried on top of it.  "No, no! Stay back!" she cried, holding up her hands against the hungry people closing in.  Where were the Jedi?

An old man grabbed her ankle from behind, and that's when the blaster was fired.