"Yes, the Jedi do not have the best history with warrior cultures." It was a lesson he had learned early in life, yet one which still brought him great discomfort, especially after fighting the uglier half of two years with men cloned from one of the civilizations they helped destroy. The tensions between Mandalore and the Order were far before Obi-Wan's time, but the results of it were still devastatingly apparent. "I think my elders learned long ago it is best to keep our distance."
Because for a people who preached peace, the Jedi were an oddly territorial bunch.
Idly, he started gently tipping the cup as to make the tea—now bizarrely several shades of pink—swirl in on itself. And, for a moment, Obi-Wan let himself bask in how mundane their conversation was; just a vendor selling their wares and a customer caught in a sales pitch. Such a simple scene felt so foreign now, almost surreal and in some ways, off-putting.
"That is something of our image I hope to change; I don't want my people's presence to be seen as a challenge nor a warning." Attack dogs was what their criticizers had taken to calling them (and they weren't entirely wrong), no longer a symbol of unity, but one of bias and questionable interests. A group almost synonymous with the senate itself. "But thank you for the warning, I will make note of it for later."
As of now, Obi-Wan had little desire and little resources to actually put his plans into action. Most his focus was on Lothal, relocation, rehabilitation, testifying in court, arguing with the Council (which he thought he would be done with after relinquishing his chair) and the integration of people who had only known war into a peace time society, plenty of padawans included. But hopefully before he died, he would see their reach formally extended.
"I hate to ask, but I suppose it's my responsibility to, but how has Cathar fared these past few years?" The Separatist movement had not once ever showed interest in the planet, nor had the Republic due to their lack of ties and how far they were from major supply lanes, but such facts did not eliminate the threat of crossfire entirely. "Not much news escapes your star system."
"We are not necessarily against the Jedi as a concept, and once had warriors of our own kind in your ranks. It is that you are outsiders, not that you are Jedi." A sharp-toothed grin crossed her features as she waved a hand over her own tea-cup, the motion translating into the swirling of the liquid within. "You may call it by another name, but your path runs alongside the Path of Knowledge. They are different trees, yet share the same roots."
Though her brother may be more knowledgeable, Ish was not uneducated on the ways of the Force. Her people's connection to it may be more primal and focused on instincts, but that didn't mean they didn't understand. It called out to those that could listen, and that was something that the Cathar did well.
"You may see us as warriors, but that is not how we see ourselves. We wish for our cubs to never have to shed forbidden blood, but teach them to strike true if they must. Most prefer to simply be travellers, it is just that the universe is dangerous, and we won't leave our own undefended." No, they did their best to avoid war, but if need be the Cathar would not hesitate to protect their own.
Her answer was given with a wink, secrecy as natural to her as breathing. "That is intentional. We handle our own problems, and share our own joys with few. It keeps us safe." A shrug rippled through her fur, the movement one she had picked up through her travels. "Honestly, our world took advantage of the war. It distracted the slavers, and in chaos there is opportunity. The strongest rallied around the planet and outposts, and the trackers brought many back home."
Sharp teeth were shown in another, slightly feral smile, a clear reminder of the predatory species from which the Cathar had descended. "We know not to fight wars in the light, there are too many casualties. But those who travel can find many opportunities, and that is where we thrive."
