Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Well, you look like yourself
But you're somebody else
Only it ain't on the surface
        You’re Somebody Else – Flora Cash

Cody jerks awake, already reaching for his blaster, which is not where it ought to be. He sits up and scoots backwards – there is someone in his quarters in the middle of his off-shift, and that can’t mean anything good. They’re close to his bunk, which means too close. He frantically tries to calculate whether he can get to his feet before his attacker–

“Commander! Cody. Easy.”

The voice immediately puts him at ease. “General? What is it? It’s–”

“–the middle of the night for you. I’m aware. I’m… sorry.” Cody can only make out his shape in the dark, but he can hear him pull up a chair close to the bed.

Cody can’t see his face, but he can feel his general’s eyes on him. “Sir? Is there an emergency?” There isn’t, because he would have been commed if that were the case, but he can’t imagine another reason to have General Kenobi at his bedside in the dark.

“You weren’t meant to wake up.” The words are hesitant, said almost under the general’s breath, and if anyone else had said them, Cody would have sensed a threat behind them. But this is his general. Cody trusts him like one of his brothers.

“General, what’s wrong?”

“What would you say if… no, what would you do if I told you I’d come into some information that could change the tides of the war? Of the galaxy, perhaps?”

Kenobi sounds pensive. Cody isn’t quite sure if there actually is any information, or if this is some sort of test. “Is there actionable intelligence, sir? Where did it come from?”

“Say, a vision of sorts.”

“Sir, you’ve told me visions are rarely reliable as a source of information. The future is always in motion, I believe you said.”

The general sighs. “Fine. Ignore where it came from. It’s actionable, but extremely sensitive. And some of it is time sensitive. I can’t share it with any other Jedi at this time, and it certainly can’t get back to the Senate.”

Cody runs through scenarios in his head and can’t come up with any intelligence that would fit these parameters, which makes it difficult to come up with a proper response. “I… suppose I would ask what your orders were, sir.”

The general leans forward and puts his head in his hands. “But would you follow those orders? Even if they seemed… unsound? Insane, even?”

Cody needs to be more awake for this. He swings his legs over the side of the bed. “You’re planning to do something crazy?”

“I’ve barely begun to formulate a plan.” Kenobi sits back up, straightening his shoulders. Maybe he’s only barely begun, but Cody knows him well enough to know he’s becoming more determined by the minute to carry out whatever insane plan he’s cooked up. “I could – we could stop the war. Save the galaxy.” He focuses his full attention on Cody and it feels like being in the glare of a spotlight. “Save your brothers.”

Cody takes in those last words and tests them, mentally. Do his brothers need saving? Many of the Vode¹ probably would say they didn’t, content in their purpose. But Cody takes the longer view, as a marshal commander should. What happens after the war? What happens when the Republic no longer needs its ready-made army? He re-focuses on the first part of what Kenobi said. “You have information that could win the war, sir?”

“Not so much win it, as end it.” The general huffs out a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Cody… We’ve known each other for two years now. We’ve fought many battles together and saved each other’s lives multiple times. You have a brilliant tactical mind and I would be delighted if you were to turn it to this intelligence I have. So that we could make a plan, together, for how to best put it to use.”

Cody feels blood rushing to his face and ducks his head in spite of the dark hiding his blush. His general is rarely so effusive. “Thank you, sir, but… I can hear a ‘but’ in there.”

Kenobi regards him in silence for a moment. “Can you ever imagine a scenario where you would decide the galaxy is better off without me in it, Cody? I’m aware I’m part of an institution that keeps you and your brothers enslaved, in a way. Have I ever, or could I ever so disappoint you that you would turn your blaster on me?”

The blood now rushes away from his face with even more speed, leaving Cody almost dizzy with it. He jumps to his feet to put distance between them. He can’t help but notice a flinch on the general’s part. “General! How can you even – no. No, I can’t imagine any scenario. I – none of us would ever! All of us in the 212th, and I think many of our brothers outside of it, know how hard you and the rest of the Council are trying to get us citizens’ rights in the Senate.” Although if Kenobi has lost his faith and trust in Cody, in the troopers, for some reason, who knows what will happen to those efforts. What kind of intelligence is this, where did it come from? “We don’t hold you or any of the Jedi responsible for… Sir, you know how much we care, don’t you?”

Kenobi watches him for a moment longer and then sighs. “You are either the best actor in a galaxy, or you deserve – and have always deserved – the trust I put in you.”

Cody doesn’t quite know what to say. “Have I done something to make you doubt my loyalty, sir? Or any of the troopers?”

The answer comes swiftly. “No. Never. Which is why I could never wrap my mind around…” Kenobi trails off. “Cody, I think something may have been done to you, to all the troopers. Possibly on Kamino. Do you trust me?”

Cody had thought, up until this moment, that they could trust each other with anything. “Yes.”

“Enough to let me into your mind?”

“Uh…” Cody sits back down on the bed, across from Kenobi, close enough to touch. “Yes. Will it hurt?”

The general shakes his head. “It shouldn’t. Can I hold your hand? It makes it easier. Then just try to relax and… not block me.”

And there goes the blood, back to his cheeks. Cody is glad they’re still in the dark, though his eyes are adjusting a little. He holds his hands out for the general to take.

They have been told most Jedi are empaths at most, not mind readers. But Cody has seen his general with General Skywalker and other Jedi he’s close to, and he knows it’s more complicated than that. Kenobi wouldn’t have asked such explicit permission if this weren’t going to be invasive.

Kenobi’s hand is warm, and for a moment, that’s all he feels. Then it’s suddenly crowded inside Cody’s mind, like a vessel filled to overflowing, pressure building with nowhere to go. Flickers of memory and thought come and go with no logical progression from one to the other, as if Cody has no part in it. The memories go back in time swiftly, back to white, sterile halls and chilly, black-and-grey eyes. Cody can’t keep up; he feels the discomfort and fear of that period flit through him, but none of it sticks.

At first he tries to regain some semblance of control. These are not memories he likes to review. But his general asked him not to fight this, so he tries to relax and let the images and feelings pass him by, without trying to catch and hold any of them, without trying to push them away.

The pressure eases; the memories disappear. Kenobi eases back physically as well, but still holds on to Cody’s hand. The touch is grounding, comforting after that bewildering experience. Cody takes a breath to recenter himself. As the general promised, it wasn’t painful, but it was certainly not pleasant.

“I didn’t read your memories,” Kenobi says out of nowhere.

Cody startles. “But…”

“I know, it seems that way from the other side of things. I didn’t see what you saw, but I did feel some of what you felt. I merely triggered a recall and checked for tampering. But…” The general falls silent again.

Cody is afraid to speak; he can tell when his general is doing something in the Force even if he can’t tell what. He feels – something. Not in his mind, this time, but rather like stepping from a warm room into a cool one.

“Perhaps it’s a more physical means of control. There’s something, a darkness…” Kenobi reaches out with his other hand and lightly taps Cody’s temple. “There. If I hadn’t been looking, I would never have noticed.”

The chilled feeling hasn’t left, but Cody’s not sure Kenobi is still the one causing it. “What is it?”

“We’d probably need a medical scan to be sure.” Kenobi takes his hand back, and Cody mourns the loss of the connection.

“I’ve been scanned plenty of times, sir, there’s nothing there.”

“Perhaps not on the regular scans, then. We’ll have to check with something more in-depth.” Kenobi stands up and folds his hands into his robes. “I’m thinking of doing something drastic, Cody. Would you be willing to follow me?”

“That’s not even a question, sir. The whole battalion will follow you to hell and back.” Cody stands as well. “What are we doing?”

It’s still dark, so he can’t quite make out Kenobi’s expression, but he can hear the smile in his voice. “I think we’re going to disappear.”

1. lit. Brothers, fanon name for the clones. return to text

Chapter Text

Raining knives, paper world
Calling on the soldiers falling into line
All rise
          Start A Riot – The Rescues

“It’s been almost a month!” Anakin folds his arms in a vain effort to keep himself from flying apart. He knows he’s losing it, but he needs the Council to not know this. “I understand that we need to shore up our defenses at a time when the Separatists might consider us weakened, but surely just one battalion can be spared in order to find a missing High General and his entire ship!”

He only gets a few raised eyebrows in return. The Council, as usual, is clearly unimpressed with Anakin’s emotions and general state of being. Anakin wishes their obvious disregard would take a backseat just this once. He’s perfectly aware his distress over his missing master is un-Jedi-like and unseemly in their eyes, but there are more important issues here.

Mace Windu’s tone is dry as dust. “Of course finding Master Kenobi and the 212th is a priority, but an entire battalion is overkill, Skywalker. We’ve got ships, Jedi working undercover, and any number of affiliated personnel on the look-out for the Negotiator. Your skills are best used on the front lines, especially now. We can’t look vulnerable.”

“Except none of those looking have a bond with Obi-Wan.” It’s risky to throw this in their faces, and Anakin knows it. The bond he and Obi-Wan still share after Anakin’s knighting is frowned upon, but the Council hasn’t spoken against it. How can they, when it makes for such an effective team, so many battles won? Despite their differences lately, when there is action he and Obi-Wan always find themselves perfectly in sync. “I have a better chance than anyone at tracking him, Masters. You know I do.”

“Skywalker–” Mace breaks off when Master Yoda interrupts him.

“Meditated, have you? Traces of Obi-Wan, you have felt, hm?”

Anakin very carefully does not jump for joy. Is he winning this? He might be winning this. He feels Ahsoka, out of view of the holoprojector, prodding their bond in excitement. A good master would probably tell her to mind her emotions. “Yes, Master Yoda. I’ve tried to get in touch with him. He’s… far away, but he’s alive and I think he is well. I really believe that if I followed the Force in this, I have a chance at finding him.”

The Council members share a glance among themselves. Anakin is sure they’re discussing him privately in the Force, but by the way all eyes eventually turn to Yoda, he thinks it’s going his way. Yoda meets his eyes in the holo and nods. “One week, enough would be, Knight Skywalker?”

“I believe so, Master Yoda.”

Windu glances skyward as if asking for strength, but sighs. “Very well. Five rotations¹, no more. And stay in frequent contact. We don’t want to have two generals lost somewhere in the galaxy. Admiral Yularen can join me on the Endurance for the time being.”

Anakin bows deeply, hiding (well, trying to hide) his satisfaction. “Of course, Masters. Thank you.”

“Bring Obi-Wan home, you will,” Yoda says, and with this benediction, the holocall ends.

Anakin whirls around, positive energy buoying him up. Ahsoka meets his joy with her own, pumping her fist. He feels he might float if he’s not careful. Finally, after weeks of pleading! “Well, boys. We’re taking the Hydian Way. Let’s find our missing brothers and general.”

Thirteen hours later Anakin’s eyes fly open. He’s on the bridge and he’s been holding a meditation for the past five hours (almost a personal record, he should take notes so he can tell Obi-Wan when he finds him). “Stop!”

Everyone on the bridge jumps. The helmsman looks at him wide-eyed. “General, we’re in hyperspace, we can’t just… stop.”

“We need to drop out of hyperspace. Now!” The Force is agitated and urgent.

“It's dangerous to–”

Anakin flings out a hand and takes control of the nav panel, dropping them out of hyperspace with a jolt. He’s aware of the danger, but feels sure this is what the Force wants, and he trusts it not to guide him wrong. The sensors show empty space, but Anakin knows. “Turn us around 180 degrees and down 45. Continue in sublight.”

The bridge crew is used to his shenanigans, but even they are giving him looks now. Anakin’s been weathering those looks his whole life and can’t be bothered to care at this particular time. the Force is almost giddy around him; Anakin asked and it delivered, as it tends to do. As the ship glides through empty space, the scanners finally get a signal.

“Getting a Republic navy transponder signal, sir,” the comms officer reports. “It’s the Negotiator.”

“By the Void…” someone mutters.

Behind Anakin, Rex has entered the bridge, no doubt alerted by the sudden drop out of hyperspace, and comes up beside him. “Sir, I never doubted you, but still… you Jedi never cease to amaze.”

Anakin tries to suppress his grin. He may not be a good Jedi, according to the Council, but no one outmatches him when it comes to the Force. Ahsoka is next onto the bridge, just as the Resolute drifts closer. The other ship becomes visible through the viewports, the symbol of the Open Circle Fleet coming into view on its hull. There are whoops of joy on the bridge. No two battalions are quite as close as the 212th and the 501st.

Ahsoka sidles up to Anakin and nudges his side. “You did it, Master!”

“Sir, we’re receiving a distress call.”

“Have they really been in open space this whole time? Supplies must be low,” Rex mutters.

“I don’t see any damage to the hull,” Anakin answers him. “What could’ve happened?” Louder, he orders, “See if you can raise them on the comm, Switch.”

The clone nods. “Incoming transmission from General Kenobi, sir.”

“Put him through!” Anakin grins wide. “Obi-Wan?”

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan’s familiar voice can cause fists to unclench and shoulders to drop all over the bridge, it seems. Anakin finds himself relaxing right along with his men. “How fortunate to see the Resolute, and so much sooner than we… anticipated. We seem to be in a bit of a bind.”

“Why haven’t you called in for help, Master? Are long range comms down?”

“Afraid so. Listen, can we send over a shuttle? I’d rather explain this in person. It’s rather a strange tale.”

Anakin laughs. “Of course, when isn’t it, with you? We’ll welcome you on board.”

It takes perhaps twenty minutes for the shuttle to dock. To keep their collective tension from ratcheting back up, Anakin takes Rex and Ahsoka down to meet Obi-Wan at the shuttle bay.

When Obi-Wan disembarks onto The Resolute, Anakin immediately scrutinizes him, both with his eyes and in the Force. Other Jedi always seem surprised at how much information Anakin gains through the Force without needing to meditate or even focus, but to Anakin it’s always been an extra sense that’s simply…there. To be honest, he’s a little weirded out at the idea that other people don’t feel what he feels all the time. As if everyone else walks around half blind. How do people make decisions and understand other people without the Force giving them clues?

Obi-Wan seems fine, physically, and so are the three clones with him, though they all appear to be medics, for whatever reason. But his Force signature is different in a way Anakin immediately registers, but can’t place. Not sick, he’s seen Obi-Wan sick before and that was very different.

“Master Kenobi!” Ahsoka greets him first, rushing forward but stopping just before she might hug him. “We were so worried!”

Obi-Wan surprises both Anakin and Ahsoka by folding Ahsoka into a hug, eyes crinkling warmly. “I’ve missed you, dear one.” He holds on a few seconds too long, leaving Ahsoka peering at him worriedly by the time he steps back.

“Are you all right, Master?” Anakin steps up. Maybe Obi-Wan will want to hug him, too.

Obi-Wan takes his shoulders and just looks at him for a long moment. Anakin shivers as he realizes he’s being scanned in the Force and reflexively tightens his shields. Obi-Wan releases him without commenting on it, leaving Anakin floundering. “Quite well, thank you, Anakin. But there are important things we need to discuss. In fact, I urgently need to make a ship-wide announcement.”

Rex seems as taken aback at Obi-Wan’s behavior as Anakin, but he nods curtly at a look from Anakin. “Go ahead, General, I’ve put you on general comms.”

“Thank you, Rex. Everyone, I apologize sincerely for this, but I’ve discussed it with your brothers, and we believe this to be the safest and most efficient way.” Obi-Wan closes his eyes briefly and draws in a breath. “Execute orders 16, 53 and 82.”

Anakin stares at him. Nothing happens. “Obi-Wan? What are you talking about? What are those orders?”

It’s Rex who answers him, strangely. “Order 16: all troopers stand down. Order 53: implement a communications blackout. Order 82: follow orders from the highest ranking officer on site without question.”

Obi-Wan nods, looking saddened. “I really am sorry, Rex. We’re fixing this, I promise. Please take CMO Clipboard here up to the bridge and coordinate with him. I want every trooper on the Resolute to have visited the medbay within the next 72 hours.”

“Yes, sir.” Rex leaves the shuttle bay, followed by the group of medics, without further ado. To Anakin’s senses, it’s as if he’s watching a stranger walk around in Rex’s body.

Anakin stares after him, flabbergasted. “What the kark, Obi-Wan? What is happening?” If he didn’t trust Obi-Wan so absolutely to always try and do the right thing, he would worry about his Master having Fallen. But Obi-Wan doesn’t feel that different.

Obi-Wan looks back at him, but seems unable to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry to have worried you so, Anakin, Ahsoka. I’ve had to take some unusual steps in the past few weeks. There are things we didn’t know before, about the war, the Senate, even the Sith… I have new information that’s called everything into question. The 212th had to go dark so we could act on this knowledge without alerting our enemies.”

Anakin is speechless, but Ahsoka manages to find words. “But what just happened? With Rex? It was like… I don’t even know.”

“It turns out our troopers are more like slaves than we ever thought, I’m afraid.” Obi-Wan meets Anakin’s eyes. “We’ve discovered there are chips in their heads.”

It’s like the ground falls away underneath Anakin’s feet. He’s known, of course, that the clones were created for the war and have had little choice in fighting in it, and he’s aware that Padmé, among other friendly senators, has been fighting to give them more rights, but… somehow he’s never equated it to slavery. Which is strange, because if anyone ought to recognize another slave, it’s him, right? Why had he never connected those dots? And now, to hear that they had actual slave chips in their heads…

“Master,” Ahsoka mutters, eyeing him.

He becomes aware of the Force swirling around him, with a distinctly Dark tinge to it. He swallows and tries to focus.

Obi-Wan takes his hand and opens up the bond between them. Again Anakin is blind-sided by the oddness, the difference in his master’s familiar presence. It startles him out of his rage. “Slave chips, Master? All the clones have detonators in their heads?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “Not quite the type of slave chip you’re familiar with, Anakin. In a way, it’s worse. These chips are capable of taking over their will. We’ve been able to remove them from our own troopers and we’ve even done some experimenting with a few brave volunteers. Given the right order by the right person, the troopers have no choice but to obey, even if it’s an order that runs completely counter to their will or moral code.”

Anakin thinks he might be sick. “That… how? I thought Master Sifo Dyas ordered the creation of the clones, surely he wouldn’t…” He meets Obi-Wan’s eyes, blood beginning to boil again. “Did you just use that against them? Did you override Rex’s will?”

Obi-Wan sags, shoulders curling inward. “Not out of malice, I assure you. We’ve had some time to plan what we might do if another battalion found us. Of course freeing the troopers was a priority, but if we were to inform everyone first, answer all their questions, deal with all the shock that is sure to follow, we would run the risk of someone making outside contact. And we cannot let this information get out, Anakin. You’ve already asked the pertinent questions: how, and who? The how must, logically, be the Kaminoans, probably implanting troopers when they’re young. But the who… I agree no Jedi master, no matter how misguided, would do such a thing, and considering the orders we’ve read on the chips we’ve removed, there can be only one answer as to who would.”

“The Sith,” Ahsoka puts in. “It must be. Something so vile…”

Obi-Wan nods. “And I’m afraid the orders themselves have made it clear that the Sith Master, who has eluded us all this time, is in the Senate. So we couldn’t take any risks, you see. We need the troopers freed as quickly and efficiently as possible, and we need all communications to the outside shut down until it’s done, or we risk the Sith triggering the chips as a failsafe.” He meets Anakin’s eyes again, but doesn’t uncurl. “I actually argued against it, but my men assured me their brothers will forgive us, if it’s used solely for their benefit. This way, we could ensure a ship-wide blackout was effected immediately and that there would be complete cooperation with our medics, which is safest for everyone.”

Anakin would like to stay angry, but his outrage fizzles out at seeing Obi-Wan so uncharacteristically unsure of himself. “I guess if it were me, I would forgive you, too. How did you find out about the chips?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes slide away. “This will be difficult to believe, but I received a very strong warning from the Force. I will tell you everything, but… we need to have a conversation first.” He looks at Ahsoka and smiles at her. “I won’t keep you in the dark forever, I promise. But I need to speak to Anakin in private. Would you go to the medbay and make sure the de-chipping process is going according to plan?”

Ahsoka hesitates. “You’ll tell me everything later?” She glances at Anakin as if including him in the request.

“Of course we will, Snips. I promise.” He gives Obi-Wan a dark look, letting him know he’d better let Anakin keep that promise. Obi-Wan simply smiles blandly.

As Ahsoka heads for the medbay, Anakin leads Obi-Wan to his private quarters. “So what is this all about?”

Obi-Wan is looking at him with his mildest expression, shields tighter than Anakin has ever seen them. “I’ve left the Order. And I was wondering if you might want to do the same.”

1. A Star Wars week is five days according to some sources and seven according to others, but I went with five. return to text

Chapter Text

Oh, won't you save us from what we are?
Don't look clear, and it's all uphill from here
        Who we are – Imagine Dragons

Anakin has been gaping at Obi-Wan for what is probably an unseemly amount of time, so he sits down across from him to give himself time to get his thoughts back in order. “But… you’re a Jedi, Master. You’re pretty much the Jedi.”

Obi-Wan scoffs. “Dear one, I believe you may have put me on a bit of a pedestal, and I can assure you it’s undeserved. I’m not the embodiment of the Jedi code.”

“But you live and breathe it. You love being a Jedi.”

“I do.” Obi-Wan sighs and ducks his head. “But I’ve had a lot of time to think. What I love about being a Jedi boils down to three things: having a close relationship with the Force, helping those in need, and being with my family. I grew up with the Jedi. But I believe that, after all this time, if I were to leave the Order, those I am closest to will not just abandon me.”

“No, of course not, Master. But – helping those in need? Your relationship with the Force?”

“I have the tools to develop that relationship anywhere, now. And at this point in time I believe I can better help the galaxy from outside the Order.” Obi-Wan seems to have less trouble meeting his eyes now. “Consider this. If there is a Sith inside the Senate, and the Order is tied to following the will of the Senate…”

Anakin shudders. “You’re saying we’ve been following the orders of a Sith. I thought the Council agreed that Count Dooku was lying about that?”

“I’ll let you read the list of orders on the chips, and let you come to your own conclusions.” Obi-Wan folds his hands inside his sleeves. “If we have been, what does that mean for the good we think we’ve been doing for the Republic? We have had questions about this war from the start, and we’ve been conveniently kept too busy to truly investigate them. I’ve come to believe I can do so better from a distance, even from the shadows.”

“So that’s why you went AWOL.”

“And look what we have accomplished in just this short time.” Obi-Wan waves a hand to encompass the ship around them. “Eight hundred troopers freed, and more being helped to freedom as we speak.”

Well, Anakin can’t argue with that. “You said you had questions about the war.”

“The Council has had questions from the beginning, Anakin. Perhaps we don’t share our thoughts enough with the rest of the Order.” Obi-Wan shakes his head pensively. “Surely you have wondered to yourself. Why was an army made for us ten years in advance of a war no one could have known would break out? Master Sifo Dyas had his visions, true, but if he foresaw this, why would he try to make it come true rather than prevent it? And would a Jedi master truly condone the creation of an army of, essentially, enslaved child soldiers?” Obi-Wan waved a hand at Anakin’s spluttering. “I know, they’re not children developmentally, but there’s an argument to be made. They’ve never known life outside the war.

“And then there are the Separatists: why are they not simply seceding peacefully? If they had, I believe a large part of the Senate would have voted to let them. Instead, they attack Republic worlds. Why do so, when at the start of this they were only a few systems strong? If the Republic had called for its trillions of citizens to join the war effort, the war would have been over in weeks, even just with volunteers. Never mind what a draft might have accomplished. And yet, the Republic does none of this. Instead, the war is being fought with ready-made armies only a few million strong. Led by Jedi, who according to earlier Republic law ought not to hold any military rank. Has none of that struck you as odd?”

Anakin leans back in his chair, a bit bowled over by all of this. He’s asked some of these questions himself, but never within the Order. “I – the Chancellor has explained to me that–”

“Oh yes, I’m sure he has plenty of excellent explanations for this.”

Anakin is aware Obi-Wan and Chancellor Palpatine don’t see eye to eye, but has never heard him so scornful of the chancellor. “What does that mean?” He folds his arms, back in more familiar territory. How many times has he had to defend his friendship with the chancellor to his master?

Obi-Wan tilts his head. “If we view the war as a game played with the galaxy as a game board, a Sith on both sides, amassing more and more power as the war continues… who has gained the most power from all of this?”

Anakin blinks. He waits for Obi-Wan to provide a different answer than the one he thinks his master is alluding to, which Obi-Wan does not. “You’re kidding. You think Palpatine is a Sith? That’s ridiculous! He’s never been anything but understanding and supportive of the Jedi, and of me.”

“He appears very supportive, true, yet if you took a look at the legislation changes he’s made since his term started, you would see that the Jedi Order is often disadvantaged by them.” Obi-Wan argues. “And let’s not forget the convenient attack on the Senate power grid that stopped any chance at negotiation for peace in its tracks.”

“That was Count Dooku! Besides, if he were even Force sensitive, we would have felt it.” He and Obi-Wan have never agreed on the subject of the Chancellor, but this is a new low.

Obi-Wan hums. “Would we? If I were a Sith at the top of the Senate, I would make very sure no Jedi could feel anything from me.”

Suddenly Obi-Wan seems to disappear from Anakin’s sense of the world. Anakin sits up abruptly. He’s still sitting there in front of Anakin, of course he can see that, but it’s like he’s… Force null. “What did you do?”

Obi-Wan’s Force signature returns to its normal state, which is a relief. “If I can do it, what makes you think a Sith Master couldn’t?” He shakes his head. “You may believe as you want to, Anakin. I intend to try and find solid evidence before taking any action, so it will either prove him guilty or innocent. This isn’t even the conversation I wished to have with you. I was asking you if you wanted to leave the Order with me.”

Anakin shuts his eyes tightly for a second, trying to think around the whirlpool his thoughts have become. The Force is not helping, swirling dizzyingly around him. “Is this really the time to discuss this, Master? It seems to me we have more important things to worry about here. Like deserting a war and Sith Masters.”

Obi-Wan hums. “No, I think this is exactly the right time. In fact, I couldn’t think of a better one.”

Anakin throws up his hands. “Why would you even ask me that? All I’ve ever wanted to be was a Jedi.”

“Yes, when you were nine,” Obi-Wan counters drily. “Do you know, when I was eight years old, I felt sure I was going to be an archivist?”

Anakin scoffs. “Of course you did. You’re secretly such a nerd, Master.”

Obi-Wan smiles. “My point is, I grew older and realized I probably had a bit too much of a hankering for adventure to be happy as an archivist. As we grow up, our views of our childhood dreams may change as we come to see the realities of life. We don’t have to keep following the same dream to satisfy our childhood selves. Our desires can change.”

Well. Anakin has never actually looked at it that way. But… “Are you saying you think I’m not a good Jedi?”

Obi-Wan purses his lips, his eyes distant. “I… don’t really like to think in terms of people being good or bad.”

Anakin draws back. That certainly doesn’t sound like a no.

“People do good things and bad things, and I can only judge them by my own morality, which… may not be the same as theirs.” Obi-Wan seems to be choosing his words very carefully. “Aside from that, you are a Jedi, and I’ve had the honor of Knighting you. So my opinion now matters less than your own. What makes a good Jedi, according to you?”

Anakin tries to think about that for a minute, rather than reacting to the hurt. “Someone who follows the Council’s orders and agrees with their ideas, I guess. Someone who is mindful of the present and of their emotions, like you’re always telling me. Who follows the Jedi Code.”

“Well then.” Obi-Wan gives him a penetrating look. “Let me pose the question to you. Are you a good Jedi by those standards?”

Embarrassingly, Anakin finds himself blinking away tears. “No.”

Obi-Wan takes his hand and enfolds him in his warm Force presence, soothing him through their bond. “Neither am I, wouldn’t you agree? I’m certainly not following the Council’s orders at the moment.” He smiles at Anakin. “I think this may be the most important conversation you and I have ever had, Anakin, and I probably should have had it with you much sooner.” It looks like there’s moisture shining in his eyes, too, but Anakin’s not sure if he’s seen it correctly. “Anakin, do you think you need to be a Jedi to be a good man?”

Anakin hesitates. “I… don’t know. I’ve only ever wanted to be a Jedi.”

“You came to the Temple much later than others. I’m not sure I’ve ever fully realized how that would change the way you think about things. Things we say to each other in the Order might seem completely logical to us, where they may have just seemed confusing to you. And I – I’ve never encouraged you to ask questions. That was my failing.”

Anakin wants to protest, but Obi-Wan holds up his free hand. “No, it’s true. I had to fight so hard to take you on as my Padawan that I feared any censure from the Council on the way I was teaching you. I should have chosen my own course and done what I felt was best for you, rather than what I was told. I’m sorry for that. You should have been able to question, to challenge our views. Then you would have understood the Order’s views better and been able to make more informed decisions.”

Anakin isn’t quite sure what to do with all of this. “Decisions on whether to be a Jedi, you mean.”

“That’s one decision. But also which path to follow within the Order. You might have been a pilot or a healer, rather than simply following in my footsteps. There are so many ways to serve, Anakin.”

Anakin takes in a deep breath. “Okay, you want me to question and challenge? I don’t like that word. To serve.”

Obi-Wan draws back a little. “I see. I suppose that makes sense, with your background. To me, it means doing something for others, helping where I can. I sense that to you, it means following orders instead.”

Anakin nods. “I like your definition better, though.”

“So you see, how we define things changes how we feel about them. You mentioned following the Code. Have you ever truly thought about the meaning of it?” Obi-Wan recites:

    “There is no emotion, there is peace.
    There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
    There is no passion, there is serenity.
    There is no chaos, there is harmony.
    There is no death, there is the Force.”

Anakin shrugs. “To be honest, even after all these years it just sounds like a bunch of impossibilities to me. How can there be no ignorance? No chaos or death? We see it all the time, all around us.”

“Ah, and there we find the heart of our confusion. You see it as a recital of facts that we need to understand the meaning of.”

“Okay… so how do you see the Code?” Maybe Obi-Wan is right, and they should have had this conversation years ago. Is this really the time, though? But if Obi-Wan thinks it’s the most important conversation for them to have…

“To me, it is a set of values to strive for. Of course we cannot eliminate ignorance, we are all ignorant in our own way. Of course we cannot simply deny the existence of emotion. We all feel, Anakin, everyone on the Council has feelings.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Anakin mutters.

Obi-Wan squeezes his hand and crinkles his eyes. “What I’m trying to say is, we don’t deny the existence of these things. But we strive to find their opposites within them.”

Anakin scrunches his nose. “What?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “This is… hard to explain when it’s something I’ve grown up with. Take chaos. The galaxy is undoubtedly in chaos at this time, but I can find harmony in spite of it, in the connections I’ve made with our men, in our bond when we are in battle together, in myself when I know my purpose and place in the galaxy. I may feel emotions, yet even as I’m feeling them, I can accept them for what they are and still find peace within myself.”

“Huh…” Anakin feels no confidence that he could ever learn to do such a thing. “I guess that… makes a little more sense. “But… being mindful of your emotions. Doesn’t that mean to, I don’t know, curb them? Now you’re saying everyone feels all the time.”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes briefly. Anakin immediately rushes to course correct. “I know, Master, you’ve said it to me a hundred times, a thousand, and I’m still no good at it–”

Obi-Wan holds up a hand to stop him. “No, no, it’s not you. I’m berating myself for never explaining this better. Let’s see. Again, this is a case of definitions. To you, being mindful sounds like an admonition, yes? A warning to… feel less?”

Anakin hesitates, then nods again. That works.

“What I mean, when I say it, is to be… aware, I suppose, of your emotions. Emotions can easily overwhelm us, and sometimes that feels good, other times it may feel awful. None of this is a bad thing in and of itself, but there are two reasons why it’s better to stop them from overwhelming us.” Obi-Wan holds up a finger. “One you’ve heard before: for Force sensitives, if we become overwhelmed and reach for the Force at the same time, we risk touching the Dark side. That may not seem like such a terrible thing if you believe the emotion is valid and the Dark side will help you express it in a valid way.

“But unfortunately, we have good evidence that the Dark side does much more than that. We’ve seen people Fall, and it can cause them to act in ways that they have would never done before. So, without experiencing a Fall of our own, we can only theorize, but we think the Dark side must create a - a feedback loop, if you will, feeding off our negative emotions and feeding them back to us until all we can feel is bad things. And clearly, it makes us want to use our power in selfish ways. I’ve seen it happen to people who were never so selfish before that. Believe me, when those who knew Count Dooku before his Fall speak of him, they tell me he was never a particularly warm man, but he was certainly not one to delight in others’ suffering.”

Anakin isn’t so sure about that one, but doesn’t protest. “Okay, but then what’s the second thing? Because I’ve only ever heard this argument.”

“Have you ever said things in anger that you didn’t mean?” Obi-Wan shrugs. “The consequences for our emotions may be graver because we have the Force, but becoming overwhelmed by emotion can be damaging to anyone. As Jedi, we strive to be mindful of our emotions so we can decide how to act on them, rather than letting them rule us.” Obi-Wan is silent for a moment, looking at him with pain in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Anakin.”

“Why?” Anakin frowns.

“I… I should have been so much clearer in explaining this when you were younger.” He scoffs. “I should be clearer about it now. Will you give me some time?”

“What do you mean?”

Obi-Wan gestures around them. “If you and your men are willing to stay and help us… we could talk more about this. You can tell me how you see all the parts of Jedi philosophy that you find fault with, and I can try to put into words the things I’ve learned as a small child, where you never had that opportunity.”

Anakin hadn’t even really been considering a return to the Republic, now that he knows about the chips, as he wants his men to be safe first, but it’s nice to be asked. He nods slowly. “And I’m assuming we’re going to try to find evidence on this Sith in the Senate. I’m betting we’ll find that the Chancellor is being used as a scapegoat somehow. You’ll see that I’m right, Master.”

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath and then lets it out slowly. “Okay, Anakin. Let’s reserve judgement until we have more answers. I’ll keep an open mind, if you’re willing to do the same.”

Anakin smiles hesitantly. The Force has slowly quieted down around them, and he feels a little lighter. “I can do that.” Especially when he already knows he’s right.

“So, you’ll stay?”

“Come on, Master, as if I would just let you make trouble all by yourself. Do you have a plan?”

Obi-Wan grins. “Actually, we’re following Commander Cody’s plan. And I know that he has a few things in mind for you, if you’re amenable.” His smile fades a little. “We’ll have to ask Ahsoka what she wants to do, however.”

“Pff.” Anakin waves him away. “I mean, of course we have to ask, but I know what her answer’s going to be.”

Chapter Text

Sickened are the selfish souls that spread disease to those with hope
They steal away the ones that try to save the mess they’ve made.
They never kissed the ceiling.
           Empress – The Arcadian Wild

“Master.” Ventress’s blue image flickers.

“Ventress. Why are you not on Sullust as I commanded?” Dooku sees no evidence of battle in Ventress’s surroundings. He is of two minds about this. Lord Sidious dislikes how strong Dooku’s promising apprentice has grown, and wants her out of the way. Dooku is not pleased about this order in the slightest, but this is not the time to go against his master’s wishes. However, if Ventress is going off script, eliminating her will be that much more difficult… and essential.

“I was,” she answers, without adding an honorific. Perhaps Sidious is right, and she is growing both too powerful and too confident in her own strength. “But there’s been a complication. When I arrived at Sullust to take control of the droid legion you had sent, there was nothing there.”

“You speak in riddles, apprentice. What was not there?”

Her eyes narrow. “No droids. None. I was a sitting mynock as Republic ships were approaching. I retreated to Utapau to contact you.”

“That is not possible. I was assured the droids would arrive at the agreed upon time in order to meet you.”

“I contacted the fleet, and they were certainly on their way to Sullust. They seem to have disappeared en route.”

Dooku draws himself up, thinking. “Droid legions don’t simply… disappear.”

It’s not meant as a question, but Ventress answers anyway. “Neither do Republic destroyers with Jedi generals, Master. And yet.”

She is clearly thinking along the same lines. When Kenobi vanished, Lord Sidious was very pleased. As was Dooku himself, although part of him mourned the loss of a worthy opponent. It was a blow, not just to Republic strategies, but to Republic morale. There was no word of the Jedi general for weeks, and though no one could tell what had happened, it was easy to assume some hyperspace mishap. Rare nowadays, but certainly not impossible.

When Skywalker went missing as well, however, it became much more suspicious. Dooku’s master was enraged – much more so than seemed reasonable – and blamed Kenobi, suspecting some secret plan. Dooku thought it more likely the headstrong youngster had rushed in after his former master in his usual reckless fashion, and met with the same fate as whatever had befallen Kenobi.

But this? There’s something more at play here. And he can’t afford to lose Ventress just yet. Surely Lord Sidious will understand. “You must investigate, Ventress. There has been no word from inside the Republic on this, which means they do not know what is happening either. It seems more and more likely there is a new player on the board.”

“You don’t think Kenobi is capable of planning something like this?” Ventress raises an eyebrow.

“Perhaps, but going against the Jedi Council, disappearing from view in this way? It would be most unlike him. His strategies are effective, but he has always toed the line. He has no motive to change that. I suspect a third faction is arising, someone aiming to profit off the distraction and chaos of the war. Perhaps they have persuaded Kenobi and Skywalker to their side, but more likely they are dead, and their ships taken to further the goals of this new contender.”

“Not the easiest prey to go for, right out of the gate,” Ventress comments. “But I guess there may have been smaller targets we’re not aware of.”

“That is a line of investigation I will set another of our spies on. You must search for any traces of the droids. If we want to take advantage of our allies’ weakened state, we cannot afford to be weakened ourselves.”

She bows her head. “Yes, Master. It will be done.”

“I am sorry, Count.” The Sluissi governor Sesjah Vsel bows deeply, tail coiling tightly. “We cannot perform maintenance on as many of your fleet’s ships as we agreed. There was an unpredicted meteor strike to our docks. We are still in the midst of repair.”

“My sources have told me nothing of a meteor strike,” Dooku counters. This is only one of the many planetary leaders who have decided to test his patience, lately, and that patience is wearing ever thinner.

The Sluissi nods. “We have kept it quiet to avoid unrest among our other clients. It is only because your fleet is so large that I am forced to let you know we cannot meet your numbers. And of course, we respect you far too much to attempt dishonesty.”

Dooku grinds his teeth. It’s been two weeks since he’s last heard from Ventress, and now these CIS planets seem to be stymying him at every turn. “You may be sure I will be sending investigators, Governor. Until then, how many ships can we send?”

Vsel only smiles patiently. “We could perhaps service a quarter of the ships from the number we’d agreed upon.”

Dooku intends to press for far more. He has plenty of leverage over Sluis Van, enough to force them to cancel contracts with other parties. But at that moment, a comm from Lord Sidious comes through. “We will speak further on this at a later time,” he tells Vsel. “For now, I will be sending a quarter of the fleet, and I expect maintenance to be provided forthwith.”

“Of course, Count. As you say.” Vsel bows again, and Dooku cuts the connection.

The nerve of these planets. As if Dooku couldn’t tell they were lying about all these innocent mishaps that keep them from their complying with their contracts and agreements. Interestingly, they never go so far as to cut all contact, but a number of governments that previously seemed well under Confederate rule now pay him only the barest minimum of respect when he calls, and have various convenient excuses not to deliver the resources they had previously promised.

Dooku shakes off his annoyance and kneels before the holoprojector in respect. “My Master.”

“Lord Tyranus. Is there some advantage to subverting the loyalties of Pantora and Malastare? Some tactical benefit I am unaware of? I do not recall ordering you to do any such thing.”

Sidious likes to play his games with everyone around him, including those loyal to him, yet Dooku is not used to being quite so wrongfooted as this. “Master? I can assure you I have had no contact with Pantora or Malastare.” He had expected to be confronted about how Ventress has dropped off the map. Or perhaps about how Dooku’s forces keep steadily disappearing, as surely as Jedi generals and their clone battalions are still doing. The only comfort in all this has been how both sides in the war are declining equally. Being questioned about Pantora and Malastare, however, is coming out of nowhere.

“Then why, pray tell, would Malastare suddenly decide to hold back part of the shipment of fuel that was agreed upon? Why is Pantora withholding the shipment of textiles promised to the GAR?”

Lord Sidious’s voice remains as pleasant as it ever gets, but it’s becoming difficult to breathe. “Master – I promise you, this is nothing to do with me. I was about to make a report to you on the same type of occurrence in Confederate Space.”

Lord Sidious narrows his eyes. “Hm.” The constriction of his airway eases.

Dooku tugs surreptitiously at his collar and takes a deeper breath. “Have they given any explanation, my lord?”

Lord Sidious’s voice drips with disdain. “Pantora claims mudslides have caused the loss of several shipments on their way to the spaceport. Malastare purportedly has had a fire in one of their largest refineries. However, my eyes and ears on both planets have seen shipments going to parts unknown.”

Dooku nods.So this is bigger than just the tendency of several Confederacy controlled worlds to drift away from the cause, if it’s happening in the Republic as well. “Then it is as I feared, my lord. First the disappearances of our forces, and now this. Someone is gathering both a well-armed fleet and the resources to supply it.” Dooku loathes to admit it, but he is mystified. There is no sign this mysterious foe has ever gone after the smaller targets he and Ventress had speculated on. The only targets, and therefore the only clue, are those fighting the war on both sides.

Lord Sidious bares his teeth. “A new faction, neither Confederacy nor Republic? We would have known of someone with the power and influence to try such a thing.”

“It is the only likely explanation, my lord.”

“It would be useful,” Sidious muses, “to gain access to civilian communication on these worlds. If there are deals being made with a party outside of the Republic or Confederacy, someone will be talking about it.”

“Master, parsing that much information hardly seems feasible,” Dooku objects.

“Let me worry about that, apprentice.”

Dooku fears his master’s reaction to the other report he must make, but there is no hiding this for long. “I sent Ventress to investigate the disappearance of the droids, when the attack on Sullust fell through. She has not been in contact since.”

There have been rumors of Ventress on Rodia, Skywalker on Cato Neimoida, even Kenobi somewhere in Bothan space. Dooku has sent spies, and he’s aware the Jedi have sent their Shadows, but no one ever arrives in time to ascertain the truth of the rumors.

“Ah.” Sidious leans back, nodding. “And so I am proven right. She has grown too bold. Perhaps this new faction has been her plan from its very beginning.”

Dooku doubts it. Ventress has neither the vision nor the inclination to do such a thing, and he has seen her confusion and distrust after the events at Sullust. She suspected him of setting a trap for her, he knows this well. It may have been that seed of doubt that caused her to switch loyalties to this mysterious new player on the board, but she is not the mastermind here. However, it may be useful to let his Master believe as he does for now. “I will of course look into this further, Master. If Ventress has indeed turned against me, I promise you she will come to deeply regret it.”

“See that she does, my apprentice. And soon.”

Chapter Text

Over the bend, entirely bonkers
You like me best when I'm off my rocker
Tell you a secret, I'm not alarmed
So what if I'm crazy? The best people are
          Mad Hatter – Melanie Martinez

Quinlan deflects a final blaster shot back to where it had originated and stretches out a hand to pull a crate down on top of the smuggler’s head for good measure. Silence falls in the hangar.

“That was the last one!” he calls out.

“Finally.” Monin, a Devaronian bounty hunter, steps out from behind her cover. “Thanks. Always good to have a Jedi on hand when you need a bunch of moof milkers off your back.”

Quinlan hangs his lightsaber back on his belt. “Why were they even after you?”

She smiles at him coyly. “Is that the information you wanted? Don’t ask if you don’t want to know.”

He shakes his head. “Fine. So? What do you have?”

Monin kicks one of the smugglers in the ribs as she walks over. “Let’s go back into town, get a nice glass of spotchka, and I’ll tell you.”

Quinlan has no patience for this. “We both know no glass of spotchka in this town is going to fit that definition. Look, I helped you with your little problem like you asked, now give me what I came for.”

“Stars save me,” she sighs. “And here I remember you being fun.”

“You’ve only met me once,” Quinlan reminds her. She’s not wrong, he might have taken her up on it in other circumstances. But Quinlan is not out to have fun at the moment.

They took Aayla. Aayla.

Bad enough when Obi-Wan disappeared with his entire ship and battalion. Quinlan has faith in his friend’s propensity to survive the most improbable bantha shit. He’s done it plenty of times before. Skywalker’s disappearance afterwards had, honestly, been almost expected. The young Knight tended to jump in after those he cared about headfirst and with blinders on.

But now Aayla.

And yes, he knows Bly and the 327th are with her, he knows she’s a Knight now and perfectly capable of handling herself, but he’s supposed to protect her, damn it. He should at the very least be able to find her.

“Monin,” he prompts.

His tone clearly conveys how thin his patience is growing, because she finally stops messing around. “Fine. I know you were looking for word on anything weird. It’s not exactly a battalion of missing clones or droids, but Shahan Alama has a B1 battle droid on his crew somehow.”

“What?” Quinlan has never personally met the guy, but he knows of him. Weequay bounty hunter, likes to pall around with Cad Bane. “How?”

“Don’t know. I do know he’s on Canto Bight, though, so ask him yourself.”

Well, it’s not precisely what he was hoping for, but it’s a lead.

He tracks Alama’s ship down, only to find him and the two Weequay crewmembers he’s apparently picked up loading up supplies for departure. Just in time, then. And lo and behold, doing the heavy lifting is a B1 battle droid, just as promised.

He approaches the ship, keeping his posture loose so as to not alarm them. Alama’s hand still falls to his blaster. “Can I help you, friend?”

Quinlan decides not to push the boundaries and stops a good distance away. “Just a bit surprised to see your crewmember, over there.” He indicates the droid with his chin. “How’d you find that one?”

Alama automatically turns his body to present a smaller target, clearly suspicious. “Why do you even c–”

The droid interrupts him. “They didn’t find me. I found them.”

Its robotic voice does not hold good associations for Quinlan, and he finds his hand on his lightsaber without thinking. It’s under his cloak, but no bounty hunter worth his salt would assume he’s reaching for anything other than a weapon. This only ratchets the tension up further.

“Shut up,” Alama tells the droid. To Quinlan he says, “It’s none of your business. Move along.”

Quinlan chances a step closer. Clearly the droid is a blabbermouth, and that’s something he can use. “It’s just that I could really use someone on my crew capable of carrying heavy loads myself. I’m a freight captain. Just wondering where I might find one, because I haven’t seen them for sale.”

“And like I said, it’s none of your–”

Again the droid interrupts. “You must have not heard me. I found them. I was assisting in rebuilding, but I don’t like building things. The others like it, but I wanted to see more planets and have adventures. So I found a ship that was–”

Alama pops the droid on its head with his fist. “You need to learn some discretion if you’re gonna be here, rustbucket.”

The droid falls silent, but the way its head turns to look at Alama reminds everyone that it is, in fact, a battle droid. Although it’s a bit of a surprise to hear one talking about its romantic notions of adventure. Quinlan wasn’t aware they had an actual personality. Then again, he tends to slice them in half and crumple them like tin cans whenever he sees one, so it’s not like he’s ever tried to start up a conversation.

“Right,” Quinlan says, trying to defuse the situation. “And… which planet was that?”

Alama opens his mouth to speak, but it probably surprises no one at this point that the droid beats him to it. “Phindar.”

Battle droids are helping to rebuild on Phindar? If Quinlan’s memory serves, the Republic won that skirmish. There shouldn’t be any Separatist droids there. Not intact ones, anyway.

“Thank you, gentlebeings,” Quinlan grins. “That’s all I needed.”

Quinlan spares only the time to get fuel before he speeds off to Phindar. Planetary Flight Control seems overly cautious in who it allows to land, but Quinlan sends them his excellent forgeries of Bounty Hunter Guild identification and secures a landing site.

Over the next few rotations he hangs out in both savory and unsavory places, sharing drinks with random people (but gravitating to native Phindians) and dropping casually into conversations: “The city looks great! I heard you were hit hard by the war, but it looks like you’re fixing it all up in no time!”

But everyone is tightlipped, and in the end it’s an overheard exchange that gets him what he’s looking for. On his third night a Phindian enters the establishment Quinlan has only just settled into and takes a seat at the bar, inserting himself into an ongoing conversation between the bartender and another Phindian who appears to be a regular. The second Phindian greets the newcomer with a, “Mim, good to see you! You were out west today, right? How is the road looking?”

Mim slouches in his seat. “I hate those things. They killed my best friend and now I get to watch them scurry all over the place and I’m supposed to be grateful?”

The bartender slides him a drink. “No one says you have to be grateful. I see it as a kind of poetic justice, you know? They get to fix what they broke. Anyway, I heard they’re almost done and we’ll be rid of them.”

The conversation moves onto different topics from there, but Quinlan’s heard enough. He settles his tab and heads back to his ship. In the morning he hires a speeder and heads west. Sure enough, after some time he finds a stretch of damaged road being busily repaired by a number of battle droids.

He parks the speeder, but hangs back, unsure where to go from here.

A droid notices him and turns away from its labor. It nudges another one. “Look, a Jedi.”

Quinlan tenses, hand creeping to his lightsaber under his cloak.

The second droid focuses on him as well. “Oh, good. Hey, Jedi! We need to talk to you!”

Quinlan approaches them caution. “Why do you think I’m a Jedi?”

“Well, you look like a Jedi,” the first one says.

“We need to talk to a Jedi,” the second one chimes in.

“We want to renegotiate our contract,” the first one adds.

Quinlan slowly removes his hand from his lightsaber. “Your… contract.”

“Yes. We want more leisure time added. We’ve decided to try having hobbies.”

This may be the weirdest conversation Quinlan’s ever taken part in. “What… kind of hobbies?”

The droids look at each other and then back at him. “We don’t know yet. We’ll have to try things.”

The other one adds, “I think I could knit, if I recalibrated my arms a little.”

Knit. The battle droids want to try knitting. Quinlan wonders if this is a spice dream, somehow. “Right. I… don’t have the authority to renegotiate your contract. Who did you sign it with?”

“The nice Jedi.”

Well, that could mean any number of people. “Master Kenobi?” Quinlan tries hopefully.

“No, that’s the scary one,” the droid says, actually backing up a step. “The nice one. The one who likes droids.”

“–Quin, help, I’m drowning in droid parts. I even found some in the fresher yesterday. How do I make him stop?”

“Hey, Obes, you made your bed, now you’ve got to lie in it. You should’ve picked a nice, sensible Padawan like Aayla–”

“Skywalker?” Quinlan blurts.

“That’s him,” the droid confirms in its flat voice. “We want him.”

“You signed a contract with General Skywalker to help rebuild Phindar? In exchange for what? And… did he give you some way to get in touch with him?”

The droids share another look. “The contract states that we can’t discuss contract terms if you’re not authorized,” one of them says. It turns to the other one. “Can we comm the nice Jedi? I don’t know if our contract allows that.”

“You should definitely comm Skywalker,” Quinlan says. “In fact, you can tell him I said it was okay. Tell him Quinlan Vos gave you his blessing.”

“Thanks, Jedi!”

The droids wander off and go back to their work. Quinlan observes them for a while before taking the speeder back to his ship. He desperately needs to meditate.

It’s early the next morning that he is jolted from sleep by a familiar presence. He’s still pulling on his robe as he exits his ship, watching a shuttle land close to his own landing site. As the shuttle ramp opens and a figure with blue head tails comes into view, all his muscles turn to jelly with relief.

“Aayla!”

She flies into his arms, which is good, because now she can help hold him up while his knees weaken. “Master. I’m so glad you came looking. We were hoping you would. I have so much to tell you. And we need your help.”

Chapter Text

If you're looking for a sign
Something to carry you back into the light
Love is the answer
                   Love is the Answer – Natalie Taylor

Anakin waits for Obi-Wan to finish talking to Master Vos before he approaches him. “Obi-Wan? Can we talk a moment?”

Obi-Wan’s Force presence seems brighter, now that Vos has joined them. He’s been so tired, and his Force presence muted in a way that isn’t at all Dark, and yet it seems to be blanketing Obi-Wan’s Light. He’s even overheard Obi-Wan talking to himself on occasion. Anakin doesn’t quite understand it, and he’s worried. He and Ahsoka have been trying to cheer Obi-Wan up, and he’s a little annoyed that Vos seems to have managed what they couldn’t. But now that Obi-Wan is in better spirits, it might be a good time to broach the subject Anakin’s been sitting on for weeks.

Obi-Wan smiles at him, a little distracted. “Of course, Anakin. I did promise we would speak again. Let’s find somewhere quiet.”

Anakin swallows back a protest. He hadn’t exactly planned another discussion on Jedi philosophy, but hey, if Obi-Wan is open to letting him ask questions, surely he can also the one he really wants to ask.

They end up in Obi-Wan’s quarters this time. Once settled, Obi-Wan asks, “What did you want to discuss?”

“I was wondering… Wouldn’t it be a good idea for us to bring in someone in the Senate that we both trust? That way someone could keep an eye on the Senate and the Chancellor directly. If the Sith Master has contact with the Chancellor, they could warn us.”

Obi-Wan looks at him shrewdly. “You want to tell Padmé.”

Anakin blinks, unsure how to take his tone. “Well, yeah. We both know she’s not the Sith Master. So even if you and I disagree on the Chancellor, she can be an unbiased observer, right?”

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t exactly call her unbiased, as he was her political mentor for many years. And especially considering her relationship with you.”

Anakin freezes. “Uh, Master…”

“I was waiting for you to come to me about it,” Obi-Wan forestalls him, before he can muster a denial. “But I see now that the pedestal you seem to have put me on has perhaps placed me too far out of reach to ask me for help.”

“I don’t need help,” Anakin spits, maybe a bit too quickly.

“I know that you love her, Anakin. I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong to have those feelings, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

Well, now that he’s mentioned it. “But…?”

“No ‘but’. I’m not trying to judge you or tell you what to do. But, and that’s the only one I do have, I can tell that you’re conflicted from the way you’ve been trying to hide it. The way you love her conflicts somehow with the way you are trying to be a Jedi, is that a correct summary?”

“I… don’t know. What do you mean with ‘the way I love her’?” It feels risky, just acknowledging that out loud.

“Well, let’s take one step back. We’ve spoken of definitions a few times in our last conversation. What is your definition of love?” As promised, his tone is gentle, not sharp, not condemning.

Anakin rather wishes he had been able to get a taste of this well of patience before, rather than the seemingly unending criticism he’d faced from Obi-Wan in the past. He tries not to be bitter about it as he formulates his answer. “Um, I guess to want to be with that person as much as possible, to… have one person who comes before everything else.”

“Only one person? Do you not love Ahsoka, as well?”

Anakin draws back. “What – no, of course I do, but… Wait, isn’t that attachment, shouldn’t I… I thought you meant romantically.”

“Some people make that distinction, but not everyone does.” Obi-Wan gives him a shrewd look. “And love and attachment are not the same thing. Or did you think other Jedi masters would say they did not love their Padawans?”

Anakin shrugs and looks away.

Obi-Wan sighs and mutters, “And to think I believed I knew all the ways I had failed…” Louder, he continues, “I apologize if I have ever given you cause to doubt it, Anakin, but I love you. Very much so.”

Anakin can’t speak past the sudden lump in his throat. He manages a glance upwards, but his eyes return to his knees of their own accord.

Obi-Wan takes his shoulder again, briefly. “You are, quite possibly, the most important person in my life, so by your definition I most certainly do. You… you are as a brother to me. Please don’t ever doubt it, Anakin.”

Anakin can only nod, still struck mute. Why didn’t they ever have talks like this before? He remembers speaking of his doubts and fears, but somehow never to Obi-Wan himself. Is it really because Obi-Wan was not available? Or did Anakin somehow create that distance between them? He recalls discussing some of this with the Chancellor, though the exact conversation escapes him. He’s always walked away feeling frustrated and annoyed with how cold the Jedi could be, how aloof and distant. Obi-Wan certainly isn't aloof or distant now.

Obi-Wan ducks his head, trying to meet his eyes. “Would you like to hear my definition of love?”

Anakin manages to meet his gaze. “I… yes. Please.”

“For me, it means to trust that person, to feel safe with them, not just physically, but emotionally as well. To respect their wishes and desires, and to work towards their happiness.”

That’s… actually quite beautiful. “That sounds like a way better definition,” Anakin blurts.

“Well, thank you. That doesn’t mean yours is wrong. As we’ve established, things can mean more than one thing to different people. And my definition might simply not work for you. For instance, I can’t put one person before everything else, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love them. For you, it may simply be how you love. There are others whose definition of love is mostly about how the other person makes them feel good.”

Anakin frowns, trying to think this through. “That just sounds shallow and selfish. That’s not love.”

And yet he can’t deny that he feels an echo of that in how he loves Padmé. Especially at first, it was mostly about how he felt he was walking on air whenever he was with her, and most of all when she regarded him positively. As he got to know her as a person, he thinks it did become deeper than that. He does respect her wishes and desires, as Obi-Wan put it.

“It is love, for some people. And it may sound selfish, but as I’ve said, I don’t believe any emotion is wrong to feel on its own. It is only when we let it inform our actions that it may become selfish. If I only cared about how someone makes me feel, I might easily try to make them stay with me even when they didn’t want to. Or always put my own desires first.” Obi-Wan lets go of his hand again and sits back. “You made the distinction of romantic love; you’re aware I loved Satine.”

Wasn’t that a revelation. Anakin has never understood their relationship. “I don’t understand how you could love her but not be with her.”

“It was the best decision for both of us at the time. We were young, but we already knew our boundaries. Especially Satine. One of the things I loved about her was the strength of her convictions. For her, her people came first. I would have always come second in her priorities.”

“That doesn’t sound like love,” Anakin can’t help but say.

“No? Could she not love her people, as well as me? I never held it against her. I love my people as well. I don’t know all she thought about it, because we never discussed it in full, but I imagine she feared having to choose between me and Mandalore. Mandalore had to come first, so she believed it was better to spare us that pain and not begin a closer relationship. For me, in hindsight, that was better as well. I’m not sure I would have been able to choose between being a Jedi and being with her.”

“But why do we need to choose at all?” Anakin throws up his hands. “Why can’t I be a Jedi and be with Padmé? I’ve done fine so far.”

Obi-Wan takes a moment to think about this. “The Code itself doesn’t forbid relationships, you’re quite right. And of course there are married Jedi, although usually there is a specific reason aside from love. Certainly I know of Jedi in committed relationships.”

Anakin can only stare. “You do?”

Obi-Wan nods. “For me, it would have been a choice, because I think that if I had to choose between the person I love and my duty, I might not always be able to choose my duty. That doesn’t necessarily make it the wrong choice. I’m not sure there are right and wrong choices in this. I do know it would tear me apart, both before the choice and after I’d made it.”

“Like, if you had to save Satine or save a planet full of people, you would choose her?” He immediately translates it mentally to himself and Padmé, and shudders at the idea. For him, it’s not even a question.

Obi-Wan is silent for a moment, but then answers anyway. “That seems an extreme example, yet in our positions it might even have been possible that we would be put in that situation. I… don’t know. I do know that if I did choose to save her instead of her people, I would never be able to forgive myself for it. Certainly she would never forgive me.”

“You think she would blame you for saving her?”

“As I said, the strength of her convictions is part of what I loved about her – I love her for it still. She would want me to let the people come first as well, to honor her wishes before my own in that situation. And that is also part of love, or perhaps I should say that is part of turning love into a relationship. If you put that person before everything, then does that mean you put them before yourself, as well? Again, I don’t think there’s a right or wrong answer. But it’s good to know where your boundaries lie. Perhaps I would have been able to let Satine die to honor her wishes. But if her wishes directly contradicted my own, I would have to decide where I drew the line.”

“What do you mean? You just said that to you, love means working towards the other person’s happiness.”

“Yes, but not at the cost of everything else. If Satine had decided to, say, create a new Mandalorian Empire and subjugate the galaxy, I would certainly not have supported her.”

Well, no. Anakin snorts, just imagining it. “She would never do that.”

“I have seen people I love do things I never believed they were capable of. I’ve learned to never say never.”

Anakin can’t fathom it. “How could you ever love someone who would want that?”

Obi-Wan huffs out a laugh. In the Force his presence turns bitter. “Well. I wish it was as easy as deciding not to want to love someone. Unfortunately, our emotions don’t often let themselves be dictated by reason. Which is exactly why it’s good to be mindful of them and not just react without thought.

“And similarly, it’s good to know which lines should not be crossed. I would not support the wishes and desires of someone I loved if they wanted to hurt others, or amass power at the cost of other people's wellbeing. I wouldn’t stop loving them. But I certainly wouldn’t jump in and help. I’d try to stop them.”

Anakin can get behind that. “Well, that makes sense.” Look at that, he can put duty above love after all, at least in an extreme example like this. Maybe he can still be a Jedi. “Is that not being attached, then? I thought it meant to just… not care so much. But is it about drawing boundaries?”

Obi-Wan ponders the question. “No, not really. The boundaries are more about keeping a relationship healthy, making sure both parties can have what they need and don’t lose themselves in the relationship. Attachment is a bit different, and I can see we’ve never managed to properly explain it to you. Can you tell me what you’ve taken away from previous explanations?”

Well, isn’t that an interesting question? Obi-Wan always used to just assume Anakin understood. This is the first time he’s being asked to put his own interpretation into words. Anakin rather feels as if he’s repeating his early philosophy classes. What a time to do this, in the middle of a war. But Obi-Wan really seems to think it’s both important and urgent. “Uh, I think… Masters have told me to be willing to let go, to rejoice when someone joins the Force, to not hold on to attachments. I don’t understand how I could rejoice when someone dies. It always seemed cold to me. Like, if I’m supposed to push people away and not hold on, why do some masters still have dinner with their former Padawans? Why do Jedi have friends at all?”

Obi-Wan nods slowly. “I see. Death is perhaps not the easiest subject to begin practicing non-attachment on, in retrospect. Take something simpler. Say… my lightsaber. It’s very precious to me, I’ve bonded with the crystal, and I wouldn’t like to lose it or see it break. Do you feel the same?”

Anakin nods impatiently, urging him on.

“But this is not my first lightsaber. I have lost lightsabers in the past. I’m aware that no object stays intact forever, as that is the nature of things. So I can do a few things: I can lock it in a box to keep it safe for as long as I can; I can try desperately to repair it once it breaks, or I can accept that such is the way of things, and although it may hurt me, I can only acknowledge that hurt and move past it.”

Anakin nods slowly, but of course he knows this isn’t really about lightsabers. “I can understand that we can’t lock people in a box and that there is no reversing death, Master, but it’s a long way from what you just said to rejoicing when someone dies.”

Obi-Wan smiles. “True. Asking you to feel joy was a bit much, especially when you were still a child. And keeping in mind you hadn’t grown up with the same traditions. But I will give you two things to think on: one, not everyone dies quickly in battle. Some people die after a long, slow and painful illness. Of course we grieve their loss, but we can also rejoice that they finally found peace. No?”

That’s easier to wrap his mind around. “I suppose in that case, yes. But all my men who died, my mom–” Best not to go there, even now. “None of that was a release from suffering. Just lives ended too early.”

“I agree with you.” Obi-Wan laughs at his dumbfounded expression. “What? I grieve, too, Anakin. I’ve lost many people and I still feel the pain of that loss. I can strive to feel joy that they have joined with the Force, but I can assure you, I’m not there yet. Maybe I will never reach that level of non-attachment. It’s not our accomplishments that make us Jedi, it’s our actions, and what we strive to be. What I can do, is not to let the losses paralyze me or cause me to make selfish decisions.”

His eyes turn serious. “Especially for people like us, Anakin, that’s important. We have such power, it would be tempting to think we could do anything if we only knew how. If I could bring back Master Jinn, for example, should I? I can’t say it’s impossible to reverse death, because as we say, ‘In the Force, all things are possible’. But that doesn’t mean there won’t be a cost. I wouldn’t revive someone I loved at the cost of the suffering or lives of others, and I have a feeling that if it’s possible at all, the cost would lie somewhere in that direction.”

Anakin shivers. “So then you just… accept it?”

“As that is the least awful choice: yes. I didn’t say it was easy.” Obi-Wan sighs. “Is this helping you at all? I feel as if I’m still making a mess of explaining it. None of these concepts are simple to explain and I’m only–”

“No, no, Master,” Anakin interrupts. “It is actually helping.” In fact, Anakin feels somehow cleaner inside, though he’s not sure why. “I mean… I don’t know if it helps with… what you wanted me to think about. Whether I should leave the Order. But I do think I understand it better now.”

Obi-Wan sits forward, his Force presence brightening. “That’s good. You don’t need to have all the answers right away. As I said, there may not be a right or wrong answer. For me, I rather feel I still am a Jedi, but at the moment I can’t follow the Council’s orders. So I have stepped back from the Order for the time being. Who knows, when this is over, I may ask to return. It’s not the right choice.” He forestalls Anakin’s response by raising a hand. “It’s also not the wrong choice. It’s simply my choice at this time.

"As for you and Padmé, you will have to decide together how to move forward. I don’t think secrecy is the healthiest option for you, but it’s your choice. And if you truly believe you can be a Jedi and follow the Council, and be with her at the same time, then tell the Council that. I honestly think that if you know your own mind and emotions fully and you are resolved in your position, you can make your arguments and they will hear you out.”

Anakin tilts his head and thinks about it. He’s fairly sure that in all of his previous interactions with the Council he hadn’t met any of those criteria. “I guess I’ll have to meditate on it. Never thought I’d say that in all seriousness.” He can’t help but laugh a little. “We’ve gotten completely off track, Master.”

Obi-Wan chuckles. “True. What was your original question? You wanted to tell Padmé and let her be our eyes in the Senate.”

“Don’t you think it would be a good idea to have an insider?”

“Well…” Obi-Wan shrugs uncomfortably. “Cody and I were thinking of involving Bail Organa.”

“Oh.” Anakin is less close with Senator Organa, but his impression of the man is that he’s a solid and dependable person who always favors the Jedi in his politics. “I guess that wouldn’t be a bad choice either. But–”

“–You miss Padmé and would very much like to let her know you’re all right?” Obi-Wan guesses.

Anakin shrugs. “The idea that she might be thinking something has happened to me, it… I hate it, Master. I don’t want to hurt her like that.”

“Neither do I,” Obi-Wan agrees. Anakin looks at him in surprise, and he smiles ruefully. “She’s my friend as well, Anakin, of course I wouldn’t want her to suffer in ignorance. I think we can find a way for you to contact her safely, in fact… I think there may be a chance for you to go and visit her in person soon. But I don’t think it’s wise to let her know that I suspect Chancellor Palpatine.”

“Why not? She can get close to him and might find evidence to prove whether he’s innocent.”

“And if he’s not? You would have put her in the path of the Sith Master. I worry she could get hurt.”

Anakin shudders at the idea. “Okay. I get what you’re saying.”

“Let’s talk about it with Cody and figure out what you can safely tell her, shall we?” Obi-Wan suggests.

Chapter Text

And all the light we cannot see
I'm no better, better than you now
        All the Light We Cannot See – Gordi

“I think we could go for General Grievous, if we could find him. Without his droids to protect him he won’t be so slippery.”

Ahsoka feels her mouth twist, but she doesn’t need to say anything. Rex does it for her. “That’s not in the plan yet, General. Cody would murder us if we kriffed it up now.”

Anakin shrugs. “Well. If we happen to come across him, we’re not running though, are we?”

Rex meets her eyes briefly in shared suffering. Ahsoka decides to rescue him. “Maybe we should focus on the droids in front of us, Master.”

Anakin concedes the point with a tilt of his head and does a quick Force jump to get into his starfighter. Ahsoka follows suit, still marveling at the change in him. She thought she’d gotten used to the way her master saturates the space around him with the sheer intensity of his Force presence, even when he manages to shield his emotions enough to stop those leaking out. But lately he has been so overflowing with energy that it’s like standing near a sun.

He takes off before she’s even finished her flight checks, but she catches up quickly. “Time to check if you really did manage to increase the range,” she prods, just to needle him.

They are joined by the dozen clones in Shadow Squadron. This battle won’t need large numbers, just a lot of fancy flying. As they come within firing range of the enemy cruiser and its accompanying fleet, Anakin falls into a spin to dodge the first shots.

Ahsoka has to juke and spin as well to follow him. Each of their ships has been outfitted with a transmitter capable of reaching, or so Anakin and his newly formed Droid Squad claims, every single droid in the destroyer, as long as they can get close enough. They’ve been successful so far with frigates, but this is the first real test of the transmitter’s increased range. She and Anakin are targeting the Providence-class destroyer, the rest of the squadron is aiming for the smaller vessels around it, two Munificent-class frigates and a two supply ships.

Once Anakin and a few technically minded clones (now the Droid Squad) got the time to sit and bounce ideas off of each other, it only took two standard weeks before they had a working prototype device that was capable of connecting to all droids in range and transmitting a virus that messed with their programming. They worked off of the idea that, although the droids are no longer centrally controlled, there was still some central connection, because Obi-Wan was certain the entire army had some type of off switch for when the war ended. No one knows what he based the assumption on, but they’re learning not to question his inexplicable insights.

Naturally, the first idea was to render the droids inoperable. Anakin had a lot of opinions on that. And although he might be the only one who thought that the droids might be sentient enough for actual independent thought, it was the clones who objected to the second idea, which was to reprogram them with loyalty to the Republic. In the end, their prototype only removed those lines of programming that acted as a type of restraining bolt.

As it turns out, if you sever a battle droid’s connection with its command and take out the coding that makes them obey orders, they have a surprising amount of personality. The 501^st is becoming a regular droid freedom force.

As long as they can get in range for their transmitter to work, that is.

Ahsoka curses. The destroyer and the frigates have sent out vulture droids. She has to break off from her direct line to the cruiser to dodge one that nearly manages to latch onto her left wing. Anakin has noticed her trouble and shoots the droid off her. He brings his starfighter in line with hers and opens their bond far enough for them to fly in perfect tandem, weaving around the shots. Ahsoka can’t help but grin. She loves this feeling. She’s no slouch, but hitching a ride off of Anakin’s preternatural gift for piloting is always a rush. She can’t quite manage it herself yet, but she knows Anakin can hold a type of light meditation where he’s aware of every pilot in his squadron. Possibly the only time he willingly meditates, she thinks fondly.

“Transmission sent to frigate one,” Matchstick reports.

The frigate on Ahsoka’s left stops firing. Several of the vulture droids in the space around them also pause and spin around in confusion.

Ahsoka makes her approach with renewed energy. Anakin nudges her in the bond and makes a spectacle of himself, ducking underneath and firing at the belly of the destroyer. This leaves Ahsoka free to go weave sideways as most of the fire focuses on Anakin.

“Transmission sent to supply ship one,” Tag reports.

“And two!” Flyby crows.

“Nice flying, troops,” Anakin says, and whoops before he rolls into another spin to draw off more of the vulture droids.

Ahsoka’s screen lights up; she’s in range. She presses the button to transmit. Just as she does so, she hears Contrail say, “And there goes the second frigate.”

All the ships around the destroyer have stopped firing now. Ahsoka grins as she hears R7 beep. “Transmission sent to the destroyer. We did it!”

Cheers go up as the battle falls quiet. They wait in silence, just hanging in space now, in a holding pattern until the droids have processed. Most of the droids on the enemy ships will be deactivated in transit, but they have tac droids and bridge crew, plus of course the vulture droids. They’re the ones who will make the choice on what happens next.

Finally, the flat voice of a T1 droid comes over the comm. “What did you do?”

Anakin takes the lead from here. “We gave you a choice. You don’t have to obey orders anymore if you don’t want to.”

There’s another long pause. “What if we want to keep obeying orders?”

Anakin is unruffled. “Then I guess we keep fighting.”

“But we have more ships than you do.”

“Then I guess you might win.”

The droids seem to need a moment to process this. “You could have deactivated us.”

“Yep.” Shadow Squadron has had a number of these conversations by now, and they’re no longer fazed. “But we wanted to give you choices instead.”

Another tac droid decides to chime in. “What would we do if we’re not fighting?”

“Anything you want. A bunch of your friends have decided to help rebuild on planets that have taken damage in the war. There’s a few who wanted to join our freedom fight, but don’t want to risk getting damaged, so they’re helping us with other jobs, like handling supplies or ship repairs.”

“One joined a bounty hunter crew,” Ahsoka chimes in. “And I heard a tac droid like you is now selling hand dyed tunics on Pantora.”

There’s another long pause, probably the droids talking amongst themselves. They come back with, “If we don’t fight, we won’t get damaged.”

It’s clear by now that most of the droids don’t actually like to fight, and this is the main reason.

“Nope,” Anakin reassures them. “No more damage. Well, anyone can have an accident, but it’s much less likely. You can do other things than fighting. We can help you find jobs.”

“Jobs?”

The first droid takes over. “When people have jobs they get paid. What do droids get?”

“A safe place, oil baths if you want them, power for a recharge… you can negotiate for what you want. Some of the others are trying hobbies. Would you like to talk about it?”

A much shorter pause, and then, “We are surrendering and would like to negotiate.”
Ahsoka smiles and feels Anakin’s satisfaction bleed through the bond.

Master Kenobi is waiting for them when they docked, with words of praise and a hand on the shoulders of several of the clones. He briefly cups Ahsoka’s face as he passes by her with a, “Well done, dear.” Then he moves on to the other vessel docking, which is a droid shuttle. Negotiations on the contracts have become his purview after Anakin had handled the first few himself and made a bit of a hash of the contract terms. Obi-Wan has managed to somehow turn negotiations with the droids themselves into three-way contracts between them, the droids and worlds in need of aid.

After battles, planetary government is often left by itself to rebuild as the galactic leadership shifts priority to another battlefront. Some senators, like Amidala, do manage to organize relief efforts, but funding relies heavily on donations. Funnily enough this happens on both sides, and by now their treaties cover several Republic worlds as well as a few CIS ones. It’s mostly an agreement to receive resources in exchange for a complement of battle droids to help rebuild shattered cities and infrastructure. And of course, the solemn vow to keep it from the Senate and Separatist leaders.

Anakin is watching Obi-Wan pensively. Ahsoka elbows him gently. “Is Master Obi-Wan okay? He’s never been this… touchy-feely before.”

Anakin gives her a lopsided smile, but his mind is clearly still on Obi-Wan. “I wish I knew.”

“You guys are talking a lot,” Ahsoka prods, as she moves to leave the docking bay. “Haven’t you asked him?”

Anakin turns his full focus on her and follows her out, the two of them heading towards the mess by silent agreement. “You know how Obi-Wan is. I go in determined to find out how he’s doing and how he knows – well, everything that he knows – and when I leave again I realize we’ve spent the whole conversation talking about other stuff. Mostly me.”

“But he said he had a vision, right? That’s how he knows all these things?”

Anakin shrugs. “He’s never had any vision like this before. It’s always I have a bad feeling about this just before everything goes to poodoo. I’ve never heard of anyone with visions this detailed. And besides, all I’ve ever heard when I mention visions to any of the masters has always been the future is always in motion and keep your focus on the here and now. I don’t know why Obi-Wan would suddenly turn around and make a whole plan to prevent his.”

Ahsoka has heard the warnings about those who try to prevent what happens in their visions and end up causing them to come about instead. “I thought it was Cody’s plan,” she says, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Anakin grins. “Right. Obi-Wan had nothing to do with it.”

“Do we have any idea yet when we can take it all to the Council?”

Anakin sobers, and Ahsoka could kick herself for mentioning it. “I’m sorry, Snips, I know this is hardest on you out of everyone. I hate the idea that we might be keeping you from being a Jedi.”
They’ve reached the mess hall, and Ahsoka lowers her voice to keep their conversation private.

“Master, come on. You gave me the choice to go back, you’re not keeping me here. It’s not just about the title, it’s about being the kind of Jedi I used to look up to. Like you and Obi-Wan, or like Master Koon. If we really do end the war and the Council somehow kicks you both out of the Order anyway, I don’t know if that’s an Order I want to be a part of.”

Anakin ducks his head. He focuses on picking out food, but she can tell he’s avoiding her eyes. “I don’t know, Snips. Maybe I was never meant to be a Jedi in the first place.”

“What?” Ahsoka stares at him. “Master, where is this coming from? You’re a great Jedi! You always try to do the right thing and follow the will of the Force, even now, when we have to hide it from the Council to protect them.” Her defense is automatic, but she can’t help but recall her first impressions of him at the same time, brash and much more emotional than she would have expected from a Jedi Knight. She remembers the times he made choices where he came dangerously close to putting the lives of those he cared about before the lives of those he was sent to protect.

Anakin still isn’t meeting her eyes. “I haven’t always done the right thing, Snips. And I don’t even know if being a Jedi is – I thought it was so important to me to be one, but… I’m starting to see I can do good things without being part of the Order. Maybe things that matter to me more than the missions the Order sends me on. Maybe being a Jedi isn’t what I thought it would be. I’m not sure if I wouldn’t be happier being something else.” He finally looks at her straight on. “I would never want to abandon you, Ahsoka, more than anything I want to see you become a Knight. I don’t want to break my promises to you.”

Ahsoka chews on that for a moment. “But if you really think you’ll be happier outside the Order, I wouldn’t want to hold you back, Master.” But what will happen to her, if he leaves? Will she just be assigned another Master? Of course, that only matters if they’re not kicked out of the Order in the first place, for all of this.

Anakin picks a table where they can sit apart from the other occupants of the mess. He sits down with a sigh. “I haven’t made any decisions yet. I think there are other people I’d need to talk to before I do. But if I do leave, I’m pretty sure Obi-Wan would offer to take you on as his Padawan. If the Order allows you and him back in after this, I mean, but… I really think they will.”

Ahsoka presses her lips together. She wouldn’t mind that, maybe, but… she wants her master. But she knows she can’t make him stay if he feels he needs to leave, and he shouldn’t. “I want you to be happy, Master. But I would really miss you if you left. I guess that’s attachment, though, huh?”

“Well, for one thing, I think Obi-Wan would say it’s only attachment if you told me not to go. And for another… I never said I’d leave you. I can still be part of your life without being part of the Order, right? I mean, I have friends outside the Order.”

Her first reaction is that it’s not the same. The Jedi are her family, the closest ties she has in her life. But she doesn’t want to hurt him by saying that. “That’s true.”

“I really haven’t decided anything yet, Snips,” he assures her, his eyes earnest. “I just didn’t want you to be blindsided. I know how that feels.”

She gives him a sly look. “Because Master Kenobi disappeared on us and now says he’s not a Jedi anymore?”

He blows out a breath. “Yeah. I mean. Obi-Wan can say what he likes. He’s still such a Jedi.”

She laughs. “I know! He really loves to meditate. I mean, I don’t hate it, but he actually enjoys it.”

“I bet he’s mindful of his emotions for fun. He thinks a tea ceremony is better entertainment than a pod race.”

Ahsoka giggles, then sobers a little. “I can’t imagine the Council will really kick him out once everything comes out.”

“Neither can I. But he seems pretty convinced.”

“Who’s convinced?” Rex sits down next to Ahsoka, startling her.

“Obi-Wan thinks he can’t be a Jedi anymore because he, well,” Anakin waves his hand to encompass the ship, or maybe the galaxy as a whole, “did all this.”

Rex scoffs. “You can take the Jedi out of the Order, but you can’t take the Jedi out of the man.”

“Exactly.” Ahsoka nods.

Anakin perks up. “Hey, Rex, does Cody’s plan say how close we are to being able to share with the Council?”

“Pretty sure we need more brothers to be de-chipped, first, sir. If word gets out, we want the Jedi to be safe from their own men.”

Ahsoka lets the conversation wander on from there, privately imagining the horror of the GAR troopers turning on their Jedi, who trust them so completely. She doesn’t even know who it would hurt more. Is that what Obi-Wan saw? Is that why he’s been so different?

Chapter Text

Let love be left uncharted
Leave your navigator home
And sail your ship through breathless waters
Love lies at the edge of hope
           The Navigator – Vian Izak

A cheer goes up around Padmé. She’s not cheering herself, still staring open mouthed at the fireworks that are the remains of General Grievous’s ship, raining down from the sky.

“Phew,” Jar Jar says next to her. “Meesa mooie relieved meesa not having to play Boss no more!”

Padmé gathers herself enough to smile at him. She’s happy this turned out as it did, of course she is, but she would really like to know what just happened. It’s been one crisis after another since she and Jar Jar arrived on Naboo with Master Fisto. First it was the Gungans threatening to attack Theed. That turned out to be because a minister using a Dark infused necklace was influencing the Gungan leader, Boss Lyonie. Then, just when Master Fisto had worked that out, Boss Lyonie was gravely injured and Jar Jar needed to impersonate him to stop the Gungans from marching on Theed. And just when that was over with and the minister had fled, they received word that General Grievous’s fleet was spotted heading their way.

They had been frantically preparing for either battle or another Boss Lyonie impersonation by Jar Jar, when all Grievous’s accompanying droid ships suddenly stopped and retreated, leaving Grievous’s ship alone. They watched as Grievous also tried to retreat, only for his ship to be destroyed over Lake Paonga by a lone starfighter, which immediately scarpered afterwards.

“Master Fisto?” Padmé looks at the Jedi Master, who is still gazing at the trails of debris over the lake. “Do we know who that was?”

Master Fisto shakes his head slowly. “I thought, for just a moment, it might be Knight Skywalker, Senator. The pilot seemed to have a strong Force presence, and the piloting skill… but no one’s heard of him for quite some time now, and if he were here, I’m sure he would have made himself known.”

Padmé feels her heart rate pick up. The pilot’s skill… it had struck her as Anakin’s, too. She’s received a single encrypted comm from him, only telling her he is safe, and working on something very secret, important and dangerous. That was over a month ago. They’ve been apart longer because of the war, but she’s always known what he was doing. The uncertainty has her stomach in knots most weeks now. “I’m sure he would have, Master Fisto. I suppose, unless someone claims the attack, it will remain a mystery.”

Master Fisto shakes off his reverie and smiles broadly. “At least we have even more good news to report to the Senate and Council, now. Not only is Naboo at peace again, but with General Grievous taken out of the war, we stand a good chance of winning.”

She smiles back, but she’s not sure it’s convincing.

The rest of the day and the next is taken up with making reports, receiving Queen Apailana’s gratitude, and impromptu celebrations in both Theed and Otoh Gunga. Padmé is relieved when she can finally retreat to her guest suite in Theed Palace to rest.

She’s only just removing the pins from her hair when she hears a noise from the bedroom. Drawing her blaster, she makes her way over, making sure to keep the wall as cover. Her hair falls half in front of her face, and she swipes at it impatiently with her free hand. “Who’s there? I’m armed. Come out with your hands up or I will shoot.”

She hears a familiar sounding chuckle. “That’s my welcome?”

“Ani!” She fumbles the blaster back into its holster and rushes into the bedroom and his arms.

He holds her a shade more tightly than is comfortable, but she’s sure she’s doing the same to him. “Oh, darling, I’ve missed you.”

She pulls back a little and hits his chest. “Well, then why haven’t you come to me sooner?”

“We couldn’t risk it. Just me being here puts you in danger, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay away.” He pulls her closer again and she can’t stop herself from kissing him deeply, even though there are a thousand questions boiling in her mind.

He is always so overwhelming to her. She never knows if she is somehow picking up on his strength in the Force or if it’s simple chemistry between them. It’s not wise for them to be together, but when she’s with him, she doesn’t want to be wise. She wants to let him sweep her up in his exhilaration, his joy, even his grief and anger. His emotions always seem so much deeper and fiercer than hers. It makes her feel as if she’s missing out on something, but she can live it through him vicariously. It’s all too tempting to let her pragmatic and rational thinking flee in his presence. “Ani,” she murmurs against his lips, her fingertips trailing down the strong curve of his shoulders, the swell of his biceps.

He tears himself away and rests his forehead against hers, catching his breath. “We should probably talk.”

“Right.” She steps back to create some distance, or she’ll never be able to think clearly. “General Grievous? That was you?”

He shrugs, but his eyes are fierce with pride at the victory. “I did offer him the chance to surrender, but he refused.”

“I can only be glad you stopped him before he could attack. How did you even get in here?”

“You told me all about the secret entrances and exits, remember?” He quirks a smile at her. “I knew that would come in handy at some point.”

“Why come in secret, though? What’s going on that you and Obi-Wan have cut all contact with the Jedi and the Senate?”

“Obi-Wan has… had a vision. Or something.”

“Something,” she repeats skeptically.

He throws up his hands and starts to pace. “I don’t exactly know. I’ve never heard of anyone having a vision so extensive and detailed, and he’s barely willing to discuss it at all. But he knows things, Padmé. Things that he should have no way of knowing, and a lot of them have already been proven.”

“Like what?”

“Like how Grievous would be here and attack you.” He stops pacing and meets her eyes. His face is drawn and she’s struck by how worried he must have been.

“I’m okay, Ani.” She puts a hand on his arm. “You got here in time.”

They sit down on the bed together and he tells her everything they’ve been doing. Freeing the clones, freeing the droids, slowly chipping away at both armies in order to bring the war to a standstill.

She has always been outraged by the way the clones are being used in the war, but now she burns with anger. She almost wants to join Anakin’s efforts, except she knows she can do more good where she is. “But why all the secrecy? I still don’t understand.”

“For one thing, I wish I could believe the Senate would do the right thing and free the clones if they knew about the chips, but…”

“They haven’t even been willing to grant them sentient rights,” Padmé sighs. “Believe me, I know.”

“And for another… Obi-Wan believes both sides of the war are being controlled by the Sith. And the Sith controls the chips. If they get wind of what we’re doing, the chips may be triggered.”

Padmé covers her mouth with her hand, feeling ill. “That could be a massacre. Not just in the field, with the Jedi, but… The Coruscant Guard is all over the Senate.”

He nods. “We’ve had to make sure no one knows anything. I had to convince Obi-Wan to even tell you this much. You can’t share it with anyone.”

“Of course.” Padmé is a senator, this is hardly the first piece of sensitive information she’s handled in her career. “I understand what’s at stake. Does Obi-Wan have any idea who the Sith in the Senate would be?”

Anakin sucks in a breath. “That’s… we’re still at odds over that one.”

“Anakin, please. Tell me.” She frowns. “It must be someone I work with.”

“And if I tell you, you might alert them.”

“You of all people should know I can keep a secret, Ani.”

“And they’re a Sith and could draw the information from your mind,” he reminds her. Then he sighs. “But we’ve worked on your shielding and I know you can keep that up even in the Senate. Obi-Wan thinks it’s… Chancellor Palpatine.”

Padmé frowns. “But he’s been nothing but a friend to the Jedi, and a mentor to me throughout my career. And he’s such a close friend to you, Ani.”

“I said the exact same thing. And believe me, I’m not convinced. But… there’s a few things that mean I have to at least consider it. For one thing, the longer I’m away from Coruscant, the clearer I feel. Like a haze is being lifted. I can think better, I feel more stable, and I’m just… happier. Even my connection with the Force seems stronger.”

She considers that. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been… unhappy. You seemed so bitter lately, at Obi-Wan, the Jedi in general, the Republic… But I thought it was just the war.” She certainly doesn’t like the way he sometimes goes off on an angry tangent sometimes, but she’s been giving him slack, knowing the difficulties he’s facing. “You told me that you can feel all the pain and death and despair more strongly than most Jedi, even, because you’re so strong in the Force. I thought that was affecting you.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “It was, but… I don’t think that was everything. I can still feel all of that, although I haven’t been in a lot of actual battles lately. When I think back on conversations I had with the Chancellor I kind of feel like he was… egging me on when I was saying something negative about the Jedi. Setting me against them while he seemed to just be supportive. Another thing is that we’ve been able to read what’s on the clones’ chips. Several of the orders on it are to either protect the Chancellor or follow his orders unquestioningly.”

She blinks. “Okay, that’s… suspicious at the very least. But it could also mean the Sith is someone else, who has an interest in protecting the Chancellor. Or that the Sith plans to oust Chancellor Palpatine and take his place.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping to find proof of. We have a number of people looking into the Chancellors affairs. If it is true, they’ll find evidence and then we’ll be sure.” Anakin shrugs. “Until then, it’s probably best for me to stay away.” He gives her a watery smile. “Unfortunately, that also means staying away from you.”

“Oh, Ani.” She scoots over to throw her arms around him. “I miss you, too. I understand why this is necessary, but I wish it was easier to arrange a meeting like this.”

“I’ll keep tabs on you,” he murmurs. “Whenever you’re off Coruscant I’ll try to come.”

His arms tighten around her as if he can’t bear to let her go. She can’t help but kiss him again, and he immediately opens up to her, letting her push him backwards onto the bed and drawing her on top him. Padmé decides she’s had enough of talking for a while.

“Dooku’s here, you know.”

Padmé frowns. She’s lying on Anakin’s chest, drowsy after their activities. His flesh arm is drawing meaningless patterns on her back, sending tingles up and down her spine. She doesn’t want to have to think at this moment. “That does not count as pillow talk, Ani. What do you mean, he’s here?”

“On Naboo.” He kisses her hair. He’s always doing little things like that, as if he can’t help himself when he’s near her. It’s endearing. She feels a little flutter in her stomach even after all this time.

“Hmm… You seem surprisingly okay with that.” She’s not so okay with it. Count Dooku on Naboo could do a lot of damage, even without droids.

“Well, I’m not, but Obi-Wan wouldn’t tell me where he would be. I’m not sure he even knows.”

“Was he here to meet Grievous? What if he still attacks?” The conversation is waking her up, in spite of her afterglow.

“He has no army to do it with, and Obi-Wan is convinced he’s not going to act since there is no strategic advantage now. I’ll keep an eye out for him, but Obi-Wan and Commander Cody told me not to engage. Apparently, it’s too early.”

She lifts her head. She hadn’t heard the habitual bitterness in his tone, but the words sound familiar. “You’ve told me several times that you think Obi-Wan is holding you back.”

He’s staring at the ceiling. “I know. But we’ve been talking a lot. I’m starting to see that… even if he has been – and I’m not so sure now – he’s worried about me. Even more now than he was before he got his vision, or whatever it was. I think he saw something happen to me.”

Padmé sits up more fully. “But he hasn’t told you what?” Obi-Wan’s drastic actions seem to make a bit more sense, in this light. If she had foreseen Anakin getting hurt, or Force forbid, even killed by the Sith, she would have also been tempted to take desperate measures.

“No. It’s not going to happen, anyway. We’ve already done so much to prevent the Sith’s plans from succeeding.” He glances at her. “Padmé, how would you feel if I left the Order?”

As if this conversation hadn’t given her enough emotional whiplash already. “Is that something you want? You’ve always wanted to be a Jedi.”

He frowns. “I don’t know if I have. When I left my mom to become a Jedi, I said that once I did, I would go back and free all the slaves. I thought once I was a Jedi, I would use all my power to go around the galaxy and help people like her. Like me. But we don’t get to do much of that at all. Most of the time we’re on diplomatic missions for the Senate, talking to planet leaders, or dealing with the worst of criminals. And now we’re just fighting the war and there’s no time to help people at all.”

“You do help people, Ani. Just look at all the people you’ve saved who otherwise would have been killed or subjugated by the Separatists.”

He’s staring at the ceiling. “I know. And I’m not saying the things we were doing before the war were not worthwhile. I’m just starting to wonder if it’s really what I want. I don’t think I was ever happy, unless I was with you.”

She kisses him briefly, touched. “And now? You’re not with the order at the moment.”

“I’m pretty happy now,” he whispers. “I’d be even happier if I could be with you. No secrets, no hiding, just… us.”

“And you can’t do that as a Jedi.” She lays her head back on his chest. “I know it’s been difficult to have to hide our marriage. I feel the same, but I’ve never even dared to consider it could be any different because I thought you were happy as a Jedi. But if you’re not… All I want is your happiness. You should choose whatever is best for you.”

“And you wouldn’t… mind?”

She smiles up at him. “Why would I mind? You’re still you, Jedi or no. I love you, Ani. Not your title. Would it matter to you if I was a senator or not?”

“No.” He kisses her forehead. “I guess I’ll have time to think about it until we end the war, anyway.”
She nods. “How long can you stay?”

He draws her tighter against him. “I can stay a little longer.” As she’s dozing off, she hears him whisper, “I love you.”

Silently, she promises to find out the truth for him. If finding the Sith means an end to the war and keeping him safe, then that is what she must do.

Chapter Text

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife
          Raise It Up – Florence + the Machine

“If I were you, I’d wear this.”

Ventress curls a lip at the robe Vos is holding out to her. “I’m not wearing a Jedi robe. Bad enough I have to work with you people. I don’t intend to look like you.”

Vos spreads his arms, robe still hanging from the right one. “Stars forbid. Except we’re not officially Jedi at the moment.”

“And I’m not officially part of the Sith. Spare me.”

Vos gestures at the disgustingly lovely scenery of Naboo. “This planet is only just celebrating its narrow escape from Confederate occupation. Do you really want to be recognized?”

Ventress grinds her teeth and snatches the robe from his arm. “Fine.” She drapes the stupid thing over her clothes, feeling the echoes of the Light side clinging in the fabric like a tingle on her skin. “Let’s go.”

They’re as close as they could land to the Palpatine estate. It’s a few miles uphill towards the manor, which is as exaggeratedly designed and adorned as she’s come to expect from the Naboo. There’s even topiary, for Force’s sake.

As Vos deals with the lock on the gates, he asks, “What did Obi-Wan say to you, for you to be willing to work with him? I thought you two were practically nemeses.”

Ventress rolls her eyes. They had to saddle her with the chatty Jedi. Of course. “He told me my Master was planning to kill me.” She’s busy nudging the cameras outside the manor with the Force, pointing them away from the entrance.

He whips his head around to stare at her. “Huh. And you… believed him?” He pushes the gate open with a screech of metal. It’s a good thing they’d determined beforehand that Palpatine didn’t allow his servants to stay on the property in his absence and didn’t use surveillance inside the manor. Likely because he wants no record or witnesses of his own actions in there. They will have to keep an eye out for cameras anyway.

She pushes past him through the now open gate. “He only confirmed what I already suspected for myself. We receive warnings from the Force just as you Jedi do.”

“Well.” He follows, craning his head to look at all the insipid decorations. “What a surprise; Palpatine comes from a rich background. Truly a man of the people.”

Ventress looks past the grand exterior and feels the cold touch of the Dark side imbuing the entire estate. “I’d be careful about touching anything here, if I were you.”

He glances at her. “Thanks for the warning.” He unlocks the door to the mansion. As they make their way inside, he starts prying again. “So… your Master wants to kill you, and that’s enough to make you decide to work with us?”

“I’m not working with you,” she says, raising an eyebrow at him. “I’m one of you, now.”

He gives her a smirk in return. “And that’s not suspicious at all, after all the trouble you went to trying to kill several of us. Obi-Wan most of all.”

“Concerned for your friend?” She gives him the most vicious smile she’s capable of. “It’s really not that complicated, Vos. As much as none of you like to admit it, you’ve formed a third side in the war. Until recently, there was the Confederacy on one side and the Republic on the other. Both ruled by the Sith. Now you’ve created a third option. Since my Master intended to betray me, no doubt at the order of his Master, the best way I can retaliate is to work against them both. And since Kenobi offered me the opportunity, I can use your faction to do so.”

He accepts that with a nod. “Now that I can believe. And once this is over? Clearly, you’re not interested in being part of the Jedi Order.”

“Been there, done that,” she scoffs, ignoring his surprise. “I don’t need anyone’s help, least of all a bunch of useless clerics’ who are too blinded by their own Light to see the rot inside their Order.”

“Wow,” he deadpans. “Tell me what you really think.”

“I already turned down Kenobi, when he offered to help reconnect me with the Light,” she tells him. “I don’t need you doubling down.”

“Obi-Wan thinks he can cleanse the Dark from you?” Vos frowns.

She hides her confusion. Her Jedi education was cut blessedly short, so when Kenobi had offered, she’d simply assumed it was a technique she hadn’t heard of because she hadn’t come far enough in her apprenticeship to learn. “He says he has recent experience. It seems he doesn’t share as much with you as you believed.”

“Oh no,” he says airily. “I know Obi-Wan is currently hiding a freight load of secrets. I just trust him.”

“Touching,” she comments, not bothering to hide her disdain.

They’ve been traveling the dusty corridors of the mansion for some time now and have found their way to a residential suite, clearly unused for quite a while. Vos takes off one of his gloves and traces the wall with his fingers. His face twists. “There’s a lot of misery here.”

Ventress opens a few drawers and cupboards at random, trying to ascertain who might have lived here. The timeworn objects – a vibrobrush here, a book there, the closet filled with luxuriant clothing in traditional Nubian styles for both men and women – paint the picture of a couple sharing the suite. “Could this be the room of Palpatine’s parents?”

Vos takes a deep breath and places a hand on the bedspread, sending up a small puff of dust. He gasps, closing his eyes, but holds his hand there for a full minute, trembling, before he pulls it back. He takes a moment to catch his breath. “Ouch. This was not a happy marriage. I only caught glimpses, but it looks like Palpatine was poisoning both his parents against each other. By the end of it, they properly hated each other – and him.”

Ventress nods, unsurprised. “Negative emotions strengthen the Dark side. Their hatred would have fed his power.”

They wander through servants’ quarters and guest suites, before finding their way inside another residential area. This one has clearly been used more recently and is kept clean. A cleaning droid stands in a corner, turned off. Ventress holds Vos back with an outstretched hand. “If this is Lord Sidious’s suite, there are likely boobytraps.” She stretches out her senses and feels out the edges of a Sith spell covering the room. She’s not well versed in spells, but it’s probably similar to a burglar alarm.

She wouldn’t know how to cast something like this, but Dooku has taught her how to open Sith shrines and locks. She applies her power cautiously and is rewarded with a general sense of easing in the atmosphere of the room.

Vos clearly senses it, too, and relaxes. “Did you do that?”

“Of course.” She steps forward, but nothing happens. “Stay alert. I’m fairly sure he will have more defenses in place than that.”

They search the room together, not daring to split up this time. If one of them were to be caught in a trap, at least there’s a chance the other might be able to help. Ventress is rather grateful Vos seems capable of acting professionally when on the job and has stopped asking his inane questions.

It’s Vos’s talent that draws him to a statue in the receiving room. It’s clearly Dark, they can both tell that much. “Should I?” he asks, hovering his bare hand over it.

She hesitates. “Let me, first. It may overwhelm you and then we’ll both be kriffed.” She examines the statue in detail. It looks innocuous enough, a metallic figure in a robe, but she’s fairly sure it’s a depiction of an ancient Sith Lord. She carefully tries to lift it and something clicks in the pedestal below it. Immediately they’re both trapped in a wash of Dark power. It tries to get inside her mind and show her terrible visions…

(A blaster bolt hits an unprotected back. Ky Narec is falling –

“Master!”)

…But Ventress is no novice, and Dooku has prepared her for this sort of thing. She pushes back against the Dark tide in the way she’s been taught, and it recedes as though she’s inserted a key in a lock. The pedestal sinks into the floor and reveals a staircase.

When she looks towards Vos, she finds him on his knees on the floor, tears running down his cheeks. He glances up at her and gathers himself, standing back up and wiping his face on his sleeve. “Well. That was unpleasant.”

She decides to be magnanimous and ignore the tremor in his voice. At least he’s not expecting her to console him. “And this looks interestingly ominous. Shall we?”

“I’m going to need so much meditation,” he mutters, and gestures for her to lead the way.

The staircase leads them to a chamber saturated with Dark. There are several pieces of art, lovingly placed on plinths or in display cases, each of them exuding Dark power. At the far end of the chamber is an ornate desk, its legs carved with creatures that appear to bear the weight of the desk in agony. Vos makes a face at them.

Ventress peers at a pyramid placed on the desk.

“Is that a Sith holocron?” Vos reaches for it.

She holds him back. “I wouldn’t. If it’s in here, it’s important, and he will have placed extra protection on it.”

Vos turns to take in the entirety of the chamber. “This all seems pretty solid evidence of Palpatine being a Sith.”

“Don’t be naïve,” she sneers. “At most this is evidence he’s interested in the Sith. If you were to confront him with it publicly, he’d only spin a tale about a youthful fascination with ancient history, and how he’s built this vault to keep others safe. We need much more if we’re going to expose him to the galaxy.”

She needs to undo another Sith spelled lock to open the drawer in the desk, and finds a comm and a box of flimsi.

“Is it safe?” Vos points towards the comm.

She tests the feel of it, but senses no more traps. “Go ahead.”

She had expected him to try his psychometry on it, but instead he takes it with gloved hands and starts expertly breaking the encryption on it. Ventress raises her eyebrows, but decides not to comment. Kenobi had mentioned Vos having useful training for this mission, and she’s realizing it goes far beyond the psychometry.

So, Jedi have their own spies. Dooku had mentioned it, but she’s never come across one before. It seems a rather Dark occupation for a Lightsider.

While he’s slicing in to the comm, she busies herself with the flimsi, and soon finds that they’ve struck gold. “This is correspondence between Lord Sidious and his Master, who apparently called himself Darth Plagueis,” she reports.

Vos abandons the comm to read over her shoulder. “Whoa. Are they discussing their plans for the galactic domination, by any chance?” His question is less inane than it sounds; the letter is written in ur-Kittât, the Sith runic language.

Ventress is far from fluent, unfortunately, and needs a moment to puzzle out the gist of it. “They seem to focus mostly on immortality and how to achieve it. Plagueis mentions experiments on Korriban – the planet they call Moraband nowadays.”

“A Sith planet,” Vos says, his mouth a grim line. “Nothing about the war?”

“I’ll have to translate everything to be sure, but not so far as I can see. And Palpatine is never named except as Darth Sidious, so we still have no proof unless we find something else to tie those names together.” She grinds her teeth. “Any luck with the comm?”

Vos goes back to his slicing efforts as she attempts to translate more of the letters. There’s a lot of grandiose statements on the greatness of the Sith and how Plagueis intends to make himself and Sidious a ‘dyad in the Force’, whatever that means, and use this to allow them to live forever. Ventress can’t help but think it all sounds rather delusional.

“Got it,” Vos says, and skims through the contents of the unlocked comm.

There are several messages still stored on the comm, which is a relief. She was beginning to worry it might be wiped.

“He’s been in touch with a Hego Damask II several times, until it stops around the time that Palpatine was voted in as Chancellor.” Vos glances at Ventress. “Nothing recent, nothing to link him to Dooku or Sidious. It looks like they’re speaking in code in these.”

Ventress scrolls through a few messages and has to agree. No one needs to hide a comm inside a vault protected by Sith spells if all they’re talking about is the care and cultivation of Nubian flowers. “Damask is Plagueis,” she muses.

Vos nods. “Most likely. It seems like he somehow got rid of his Master around the time he became Chancellor, and locked up everything to do with this old part of his life in this vault.”

“Inside the mansion that also embodies his old life,” she adds. “I wonder why he didn’t just destroy the evidence.”

Vos sighs. “Like you said, none of it is hard evidence. All we have is a bunch of conjecture and an interest in the ancient Sith. Besides,” he glances uneasily at the stack of flimsi Ventress is still holding, “he may have wanted to preserve the research. He’s got the galaxy in the palm of his hand, but as far as we know he’s not immortal. Or at least I hope not.”

She shudders at the thought. “From what I’ve read so far, they hadn’t accomplished it yet. Thank the stars.”

Vos nods in agreement. “Let’s take this back to Obi-Wan and Commander Cody. At least we’ve got two promising avenues of investigation out of it: Hego Damask II and Korriban.”

Chapter Text

Stars are only visible in darkness
Fear is ever-changing and evolving
And I, I've been poisoned inside
But I, I feel so alive
        Battle Cry – Imagine Dragons

“General Ti, a ship has just exited hyperspace and is in orbit above Tipoca. It’s… a Republic ship.”

Shaak joins Commander Akul at the viewscreen. “We haven’t received communication from the Council that anyone was coming. Who is it?”

Akul meets her eyes in shock. “It’s the Negotiator, General.”

Shaak blinks and tilts her head, listening to the Force. The Negotiator, along with its crew and eponymous Jedi Master, has been missing for three months, the first of what some Jedi are beginning to call The Vanished. She can’t ignore the possibility the ship has been taken over by an enemy, yet she feels no sense of warning. “Hail them, Commander.”

“Master Ti,” Obi-Wan’s voice comes through the comm almost immediately. “I apologize for not giving you any warning.”

“Master Kenobi,” Shaak replies evenly. “For a man who is presumed dead, you sound quite well.”

“I am well, thank you,” he shoots back, the shameless scoundrel. “I was hoping to speak to you in private.”

“You may send a shuttle down. Although we ought to arrest you for desertion.” She won’t, but he deserves to stew at least a little bit.

“If you’ll agree to speak to me alone, I will explain everything, Master Ti. If afterwards you still feel you should, I won’t stop you.”

Obi-Wan cuts the connection before she can answer, which works out well, as she’s lost for words.

“I’ll arrange a private meeting room, General,” Akul tells her.

She smiles at him fondly. “Thank you, Commander.” She knows he is telling her his men will ensure there will be no surveillance in the room. Obi-Wan’s emphasis on privacy can only mean one thing: he wants to keep the Kaminoans out of… whatever this is.

She receives Obi-Wan and his Clone Commander, Cody, half an hour later. She raises an eyebrow at the inclusion of the commander. “Should Commander Akul join us?”

Interestingly, Obi-Wan looks at Commander Cody to answer. “That may be best, ma’am.”

She summons Akul on her comm, and takes the time to study Obi-Wan. He really doesn’t look as well as he said he was. His face is drawn and tired, and his eyes seem haunted.

“Akul?” Obi-Wan enquires. “Named after the fearsome Shili predator?” He gestures at her headdress of akul teeth.

Ah, of course. He hasn’t met Akul yet. The last time he was on Kamino, her previous Commander, Colt, gave his life in the battle for Tipoca City. She will always feel his loss, but Akul is an excellent commander in his own right, and she tries not to compare, to let Akul stand on his own rather than in someone else’s shadow. “He gave me the tremendous honor of helping him choose a name.”

Cody smiles. “It’s a good name.”

The man himself joins them shortly after. “Generals, Commander.” He salutes.

Again, it’s Commander Cody who says, “At ease, Akul. Have a seat.”

Akul hesitates a moment, before choosing a seat next to Shaak.

“Now, Master Kenobi,” Shaak says, pinning Obi-Wan with a disapproving frown. “I expect an excellent explanation for all this. I hope you realize how worried and demoralized everyone has been since your disappearance.”

“And I hope you know me well enough to guess I would never do such a thing without good reason.” Obi-Wan folds his hands inside his robe. “We have much to tell you, but I need to ask one favor: this cannot get out. The information I am about to give you must stay in Tipoca City.”

Shaak leans back, mulling it over. She is annoyed with him for all the subterfuge and leaving his colleagues to fear the worst for him, but he’s right: she knows he wouldn’t do this lightly. “And the Council?”

He shakes his head, quirking a rueful smile. “Not yet, I’m afraid. I understand it’s a big ask.”

“Well then.” Shaak glances at Akul. “Convince us.”

And he does.

Akul is swearing and pacing the room once they’re done telling the whole story. Commander Cody is beside him, murmuring in a low tone in the language she’s often heard them use privately, but only understands a few phrases of.

Shaak herself is trying to release her anger, fear, and guilt into the Force, though not as successfully as befits a Master of her rank. How could she have let this go on for so long? She’d known there was something wrong on Kamino, she’d asked so many questions about the start of the war, but she hadn’t pushed hard enough for answers. Even the search for the Sith Master had been dialed down in favor of fighting the war. A war which now seemed even more pointless than it had before.

“We will have to act quickly if we are to ensure this doesn’t get out,” she says. “We cannot let the Kaminoans implant any more cadets.”

“If we could get them working for our side, it would be even better,” Cody speaks up. “Our medics can take the chips out ourselves, but the Kaminoans know most about our genes. If anyone can stop the rapid aging process, it’s them. But you’re correct that we need to make sure we do it quietly, General Ti. There is one quick way to do so.” He meets Obi-Wan’s gaze.

Obi-Wan closes his eyes briefly. “Must we? I feel ill every time we use the chips. I’d really rather not use it ever again. Besides, unlike the Jedi on the ships we’ve taken over, the Kaminoans will realize immediately what’s happening. They must know about the chips, after all. It might, in fact, trigger a call for help, rather than prevent one.”

Cody nods slowly. “Fair enough. Then we need to take all the comms down in some way. Whether the Kaminoans are working with the Sith knowingly or unknowingly, they will undoubtedly try to warn someone.”

“I can assemble teams quietly, sir,” Akul cuts in. “We can take down all communication at once without alerting the Kaminoans beforehand. No one knows this city like we do.”

“See it done,” Shaak nods, before anyone else can suggest taking over her men’s free will again. She’s shocked Obi-Wan would even consider it.

“We’ve got a few men on the Negotiator who may have some ideas, as well,” Cody says. “They call themselves the Droid Squad."

Shaak watches as a clone reprograms one of the many cleaning droids in Kamino. Keeping the city spotlessly white takes a lot of droids, and that is currently to their advantage. The droid beeps and rolls away.

“Is that it?” Akul asks.

“Yes, sir,” the clone, who introduced himself as Glitch, head of the Droid Squad, reports. “This one will go back to its charging station, and from there the virus is going to spread to all the others. By tomorrow, every droid should be infected. All droids, from the little cleaning droids to the nursing droids in the decanting chambers, will be following our orders and not the Kaminoans.”

“Impressive work,” Shaak says, and the trooper ducks his head and smiles, but she can tell the humility as at least partly feigned. Glitch is quite proud of his squad’s efforts.

Over the next few hours, they see that Glitch’s confidence in their work is not unfounded. During the night, housekeeping and cleaning droids begin reporting in to the clones’ barracks one by one and are outfitted with a little surprise, before heading off to other locations. Shaak sleeps a few short hours that night, and by the time she wakes, the slow drip of droids reporting in has become a flood. All off duty clones have been roped into helping outfit the droids with canisters of knockout gas, including the cadets.

The on duty clones are still keeping up a front of normalcy, as is Akul. Commander Cody is overseeing the work behind the scenes. He meets her eyes when she checks in with him. “We’ll be ready by the end of the day, General.”

“That will make things easier,” she replies, considering the tactical advantage. “Most Kaminoans will go back to their quarters when the sun sets.”

Cody nods. “It should keep down the casualties, at least. I can’t imagine the Kaminoans taking this lying down.”

Shaak looks around. “Where is Obi-Wan?”

Cody points to a corner, where Obi-Wan sits at a holoterminal with a group of clones. As Shaak wonders over, she finds they’re appointing small teams of slicers and droids to strategic locations all over the city.

“Can I help?” she asks, though they appear to have things well in hand.

Obi-Wan glances at her and then looks behind them at the cadets. “The young ones trust you more than me, Master Ti. This is very far outside of the norm for them, and I’ve been trying to offer encouragement, but it may mean more when it’s coming from you.”

“Very well.” So that’s what she does for the rest of the day, moving from group to group, easing the minds of the youngest cadets. They may not see battle today – that is not the plan, at least – but this is their first real engagement nonetheless. Shaak can sense that they’re more excited than afraid, but there is an undercurrent of tension even in the older clones; they will be fighting in their own home, after all, not some distant battlefield.

“Generals,” Akul calls once the sun has gone down. “We’re about to start the sound off.”

Akul and Cody are standing together in front of the holoscreen, where all areas of interest are indicated. Shaak and Obi-Wan join them as the sound off begins, each team calling out their position and readiness.

Akul looks to Commander Cody. “That’s everyone, sir.”

Commander Cody nods. “Then we’re a go.”

He gives the signal over the comms. Shaak holds her breath.Then the reports roll in.

“The Kaminoans’ comms are down, sir,” comes from the team slicers. “And ours remain up.”

“Nice work,” Cody says approvingly.

“Droids deployed,” Glitch says.

“Teams are still checking in, but it’s looking like all residential areas are properly sealed,” the comms officer reports.

Seconds later, Glitch adds, “The droids have reported in: all common areas have been flooded with knockout gas. All Kaminoans are out as far as they can tell.”

Shaak breathes again. There are millions of Kaminoans in Tipoca. Knocking them out or sealing them in their quarters isn’t just good tactics: it will save them from a bloodbath. Still, she is sure this streak of good luck won’t hold forever.

“Deploy the med droids,” Cody orders. “Get them secure.”

The comms officer reports again. “Last team just checked in: no containment breaches so far. No Kaminoan is leaving their quarters tonight.”

Shaak and Obi-Wan are hanging back, letting the clones do what they do best, but it puts a knot in her stomach not to be more actively involved. Obi-Wan glances at her and she feels a wave of calm from him in the Force. “This is their home, Master Ti. Let them fight for themselves.”

She nods at him. It’s not that she doesn’t understand the importance, it’s just that the Jedi reflex to help is difficult to suppress.

At a signal from Cody, Akul says into the comms, “Containment teams are a go.”

Shaak listens tensely as the teams to unseal the residential areas one by one. The Kaminoans are given the option of surrender or death. Luckily, the Kaminoans are consummate scientists, not warriors. Most of them offer no resistance. Their luck continues to hold. As the reports from their teams roll in, Cody and Akul efficiently mark out which areas in the city are secure. The layout of the city helps them; it’s fairly easy to block off several domes to keep those Kaminoans who surrendered peacefully from interfering with their operation.

“Droids are reporting a containment breach in sector Peth twenty-three, sirs,” Glitch speaks up. It's about five hours into the campaign.

Shaak’s heart drops, and she can hear Akul cursing under his breath. Cody remains more composed, looking over the map. “Team Vev 5 to 10, divert to sector Peth and subdue. Alive if possible, but casualties are acceptable.”

Shaak closes her eyes, already mourning the loss of life. Moments later, she can feel it, and she and Obi-Wan reach out to each other in comfort. Leaning on another Jedi Master is second nature, and her irritation with him has long since faded. He steadies her, but she notes he needs her help far less than she does his. He has been on the front, she remembers now. Any loss of life is regrettable to him as it would be for any Jedi, she can feel that, but it doesn’t seem to pain him as much as it does her.

Still, she can’t find it in herself to blame the clones for wanting to take their revenge on those who have created and enslaved them. She thought the practice of decommissioning was the worst she would come across, once she’d been assigned to Kamino to oversee the project. To learn the Kaminoans were capable of even worse crimes against sentient beings is a shock.

A Jedi tries to preserve life whenever possible, but must also accept that there are instances where the loss of life is inevitable, perhaps even just.

As the evening progresses, several more Kaminoans manage to break the seal on their doors, but not in significant numbers. Each time, Shaak is prepared for disaster, but most of them fall easily to the clones’ blasters. There are few casualties among their own men, though she feels each of those as an even greater blow, remembering the invasion of Tipoca and the loss of Colt.

As the teams report their victories, Obi-Wan helps her release the hurt into the Force. Commander Cody has also noticed her upset, she finds, as he brings them tea when he takes a break at some point, leaving Akul in charge. His eyes are sympathetic as he hands her the cup, and she smiles at him in thanks.

“Sector Usk secure, Commander,” team Krenth reports in just before morning.

“Acknowledged.” Akul looks up to meet Shaak’s eyes. “That’s the last sector, General. We did it.”

Cheers go up around the room, and Shaak closes her eyes once more, this time in relief. Tipoca is fully under the control of the clones.

Per Cody and Akul’s orders, Nala Se and her team of geneticists are kept alive and set to work on reversing the clones’ accelerated aging. In her lab, they find a young, blonde, female clone who had been kept apart from the others. Shaak is gratified that this, at last, is a surprise to Obi-Wan as well.

As young Omega is introduced to her brothers, Shaak finds Obi-Wan watching them with tears in his eyes. “I didn’t know,” he murmurs.

She’s surprised at this show of emotion, when he was so steady during the battle. Perhaps it does hurt him as much as it hurts her, but he saves it for after the action. She did notice before how haggard he looked, as if he’s been running on fumes for far too long. She feels much more grounded herself by now, and she rests a hand on his shoulder. “My friend. Would you like to meditate with me?”

He covers her hand with his own and glances at her. “I would appreciate that, Master Ti.”

“Oh, shush. I’m not actually angry with you, Obi-Wan. No need for the formality now.” She studies him. “You’ve been carrying too much alone. I see it in you. And you have yet to explain how you came to know all of this.”

“Some stories are best left untold,” he says, and she feels a well of grief in his Force presence that unnerves her. “Better to change the ending.”

“Obi-Wan–”

“I can’t,” he cuts her off, his eyes pleading with her. “Please, Shaak.”

She takes a deep breath. She should push, she knows this: at least one other Council member ought to know the full truth. What if something were to happen to him? But she can’t bear to cause him more pain, not when he has clearly suffered so much already. “Come. Let’s go to my meditation chamber.”

He squeezes her hand gratefully and follows.

Chapter Text

Just because everything's changing
Doesn't mean it's never been this way before
All you can do is try to know who your friends are
As you head off to the war
        The Call – Regina Spektor

“You transmitted something. What have you done?”

Rex never gets tired of these conversations. He wishes he could join Shadow Squadron in space, but someone needs to take command when the general is off ship. Still, at least he can listen in over the comms.

Everyone on the bridge is waiting, breathless. It’s always these first few exchanges that have them all spellbound, over and over again, when the droids are waking up to their new reality and start making choices on their own. A few months ago, none of his brothers would have given any thought to the idea that a battle droid could be good for anything more than target practice. Now, some of them seem borderline likable.

“We’ve made sure you don’t have to follow orders anymore,” Skywalker’s voice comes in. “You can make your own choices now.”

There is a long pause. Then: “Why.” Tac droids sound almost completely inflectionless, unlike the B1s. Rex has no idea how this one is taking it.

“Because everyone deserves to make their own decisions. If you tell us where you want to go from here, we can help you. You can do anything you want. No need to fight.”

Another silence.

Then a blaster cannon fires, out of nowhere, hitting Shadow Three square on the right wing.
Broadside curses, his fighter spinning out of control. Shadows Four and Two respond instantly, flanking him for protection, but have to abandon their formation almost instantly to avoid more shots.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Skywalker shouts, coming up underneath Shadow Three and stabilizing the spin, probably through the Force. “We don’t have to fight!”

“You’re the enemy. Why wouldn’t we fight?” the tac droid responds. The cannon fire increases.

The vulture droids, which had been hanging still until that moment, come alive all at once. Skywalker curses and orders, “Everyone, back to the Resolute. Rex! Cover our retreat!”

The vulture droids spin as one and pursue the starfighters, as the Squadron flees back to the Resolute.

“Focus all cannons on their weapons system and fire!” Rex snaps at the Venator’s gunners. “We can’t salvage this one. Broadside, damage report!”

“Life support is intact, sir, but I have no steering.”

Skywalker loops back and flies parallel with Broadside. The starfighter stabilizes again and starts following the general’s flight path. Rex assumes he’s using the Force, but this appears to detract from his usual piloting finesse. He’s hit on the tail before Shadow Ten is there to cover their retreat.
Rex clenches his fists; they’re losing control of this battle. Ahsoka and Shadows Six, Seven and Eight were on the far side of the cruiser when everything went sideways, and they’re fighting hard to catch up to the rest of the squadron.

Ten is immediately accosted by a vulture droid. Ahsoka manages to shoot the droid off him, but it costs her: she takes fire herself.

“Ahsoka?” Skywalker yells, pulling himself and Shadow Three into a twin spiral.

“I’m okay,” she says. “My dome is cracked, but holding.” Her starfighter wavers, as if she’s deciding to go back and continue to help the rest of the squadron in their retreat.

“Ahsoka, come back in immediately. You can’t risk taking any more fire,” Rex orders. He’s relieved to see her obey; she’s not always this tractable.

“I’ve got a vulture on my tail I can’t shake,” Shadow Six calls in, currently the furthest one out.

“I’ve got you,” Shadow Eight says, but before he can reach Vep, the droid is on his dome and cracks it. It pulls Vep’s body out with its claws and flings it into space. Vep’s gunner, Abiik, is next.

There’s no time to pause and recover from the loss. Rex swallows down his grief and orders Shadow Eleven to break off his approach. They can recover the bodies later.

“Cruiser’s weapons systems are destroyed, Captain,” one of the gunners reports, and finally, the cannon fire disappears, taking the pressure off the fleeing starfighters.

Rex nods his approval. “Take out as many vultures as you can.”

“Home safe,” Broadside comes in, swiftly followed by Skywalker and Shadows Two and Four.

Rex counts them off in his head until he hears Ahsoka finally report in. He breathes a sigh of relief. Seven and Eight follow quickly after.

Once they’re all safe, Rex orders his men to destroy the cruiser’s shielding and then focus on the aft hyperdrive.

The cruiser explodes just as Skywalker and Ahsoka make it onto the bridge.

“Well done, everyone,” Rex says. Skywalker echoes him, eyes dark and lingering on the debris.

“What happened? They’ve never decided to fight before,” Ahsoka says into the silence.

Skywalker folds his arms. “We gave them a choice. We always knew the risk existed that they would choose to fight anyway. Apparently a single T1 is enough to convince all the other droids.”

He tips his head at Rex, a silent request to speak in private once he’s available. Rex orders the retrieval of Vep’s and Abiik’s bodies and to set a course for their rendezvous location with the Negotiator. Then he goes to find Skywalker and Ahsoka in Admiral Yularen’s office, currently used by the three of them as a meeting room in Yularen’s absence.

Ahsoka has her head in her hands, leaning on the holotable. Skywalker is still standing with his arms folded, staring at the floor.

“We need to report this to the Marshall Commander and General Kenobi,” Rex says. “Figure out where to go from here.”

“We weren’t alert enough,” Skywalker bites out. “We got complacent.”

“And it got Vep and Abiik killed,” Ahsoka says, almost inaudibly.

Rex’s heart breaks for her. “Commander…”

At least this finally seems to snap Skywalker out of his mood. He and Rex both sit down next to her, Skywalker putting a hand on her shoulder. “We did the best we could, Snips. We’ll make sure we’re more prepared next time.”

“They knew the risks just as anyone on this ship does,” Rex adds. “They went out there, fully knowing what might happen. We all know that every battle might be our last. We do it because we believe in what we’re doing, Commander. Vep and Abiik will be remembered for their bravery.”

Ahsoka nods and wipes her face, sitting up straighter. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why this is hitting me so much harder. We’ve lost men before.”

“We weren’t expecting it this time,” Skywalker says. “We started to believe our success was guaranteed. Now we know better.”

Over Ahsoka’s head, Rex meets his eyes in shared understanding. If General Kenobi and Cody decide to keep this project going, they’re going to make sure they have a lot more safeguards in place next time.

“Captain? Do you have a moment?”

Rex sighs before turning. He was so hoping to get some grub.

Behind him four troopers in full armor are waiting for his response, shifting in place like cadets. Rex tries to learn all his troopers’ names, but with the shinies coming in regularly to replace the men they’ve lost, it’s not always feasible. This one is unfamiliar to him, and so are the three men behind him.

“Of course.” He gestures for them to follow him and leads them to the now empty meeting room.

“What can I do for you, troopers…?”

The one in the lead takes off his helmet. “CT 388-7463, sir. Um.” He shifts from foot to foot.

“Spit it out, 7463,” Rex urges. By the Force, he doesn’t have a name yet and isn’t even abbreviating his designation. Must be from the newest batch of shinies. He looks unnervingly young.

“We… were wondering if…” The shiny takes a deep breath. “We want to request permission to leave, sir.”

Rex does a double take. “I must have misheard you, soldier. You want to request leave?”

The trooper looks like he might actually burst into tears. Another one steps forward and removes his helmet. “CT 8820, sir, and… no. We… we want to leave the GAR.”

Rex straightens, prompting the four of them to come to attention automatically. “Maybe it’s escaped your notice, 8820, but we’re all currently AWOL.”

“We want to stop fighting, sir,” 7463 says. “We don’t want to be deserters, but we just… I don’t want to kill anyone. Even the droids.” His lip wobbles, but he holds his position.

Rex can’t help but think back to just half an hour ago, when he was telling Ahsoka every man on board was willing to die for the cause. The Force is probably laughing at him.

He wants to berate them, scare them straight. What kind of coward wants to leave when they know what’s at stake here? But then he remembers the deserter Cut Lawquane, the furthest thing from a coward, just wanting to live and fight for his family, rather than for the Jedi and the Republic.

He notices them staring at him with wide eyes, stiff with tension. He sighs. “At ease. I… won’t pretend to understand, but we’re all about making choices nowadays. I’ll take your request to the marshall commander when we rendezvous.”

Some of the rigidity eases out of them. “Thank you, sir,” 8820 says.

He nods. “Dismissed.”

Watching them file out of the room, he wonders if these are the only troopers who feel this way, or if they’re simply the first to gather up enough courage to mention it.

Rex hates coming back to Cody with bad news. Somewhere inside he’s still the little cadet with the aberrant hair color, slated for decommissioning until Cody takes an interest in him and helps him improve his test scores so much the Kaminoans have to let him live. He wishes he could always make Cody that proud.

This latest clusterkriff does not make Cody proud. Rex knows none of it is his fault, but he doesn’t like the slump of Cody’s shoulders, dropping under the burden that Rex has added. The report on the unexpected battle with the cruiser is bad enough, but the shinies’ request has everyone falling silent for a moment.

Cody glances at General Kenobi, who runs a hand over his beard pensively.

“They’re not the first,” Cody reassures Rex. “Just the first to ask. We’ve noticed a few men were unaccounted for after our last fuel stop.”

Skywalker speaks up from where he’s leaning against the wall, a frown on his face. “What if more follow, after these troopers? We can’t afford to lose half our forces.”

Cody draws himself up. “What’s the alternative, General? Weren’t you the one advocating that the brothers should be freed?”

General Kenobi nods. “Cody is right. We can’t tell the troopers we want them to have choices, and then turn around and deny them this request. If they don’t want to fight, they don’t want to fight.”

“They can be part of our fleet and not fight,” Rex puts in.

“They could hold other positions,” Skywalker agrees. “We always need mechanics, administrative aids…”

“They want to leave the GAR,” Cody says hotly. “We don’t own them.”

Skywalker looks like he’s been slapped. “That’s not what I was saying, Cody.”

Kenobi stands up and puts a hand on both Cody’s shoulder and Skywalker’s. “I think we can all agree that no one here ever wants the Vode to be slaves again.”

Rex sucks in a breath. He wasn’t aware the private name they used for each other was common knowledge among the Jedi. Cody’s wide-eyed look tells him it’s not: Kenobi has learned it without Cody being aware.

“Outside the GAR, you and your brothers aren’t officially part of any world or government,” Kenobi says. “In a way, that makes you a society all your own. You get to decide the rules. I can see you don’t want to force your brothers to fight a war against their wishes, but you’ll have to come to an agreement on the alternative. Can they leave? If so, where to? If they leave, do they still have your support? Will they be able to contact those brothers they’re close with?”

Cody stares into the distance, pursing his lips. “You think we need to discuss this with everyone.”

Kenobi shrugs, folding his hands back into his robes. “We can follow military protocol only to a certain point. Within the GAR, you have the authority to decide. But once these troopers leave, they’re no longer part of the GAR. More may follow. If they’re not troopers, then what are they?”

“Still Vode,” Rex murmurs. He can’t imagine abandoning these younger brothers, no matter how much he may disagree with them. And he understands that Kenobi isn’t just talking about a few would-be deserters. This is for after the war. They’ll need to figure out what they’re going to be when there’s no enemy to fight.

Skywalker is looking at the floor when he offers, “When a slave is freed, or… frees themselves… they often don’t have anything. No home, no job, no credits to get a new life started, nothing. So usually, the other slaves will try to help out until they can find their feet. Give them part of their food and water rations, let them sleep on the couch, hide them somewhere safe, get them in touch with someone who can offer employment…” He trails off.

Rex swallows, reminded of Skywalker’s past as a child slave. Cody’s rebuke must have hit hard. “We’ve been helping the droids find their way. We can do it for our own brothers.”

Cody takes a deep breath and then nods firmly. “Thank you for your insights, Generals. We’ll take it from here.”

Rex raises his eyebrows at the audacity, but Kenobi only smiles and nods. “Come on, Anakin. Let’s leave them to it.”

Once they’re gone, Cody meets his eyes. “Any ideas on how to get input from every Vod?”

Rex scoffs. “That’s going to be chaos, Cody. We might want to start with just the officers.”

“We can’t keep it that way forever. The General’s not wrong. Keeping to military hierarchy only works for as long as we consider ourselves military.”

“Fair enough, but over half of our brothers are still chipped and we’re unable to contact them. Making decisions on who and what we’re going to be when this is all over is pointless without them.”

Cody sighs. “Fox alone would kill us. Okay. Let’s get the officers in first. See where we go from there.”

Chapter Text

No light, no light in your bright blue eyes
I never knew daylight could be so violent
A revelation in the light of day
You can't choose what stays and what fades away
          No Light, No Light – Florence + the Machine

Cody has three data pads with news items to his right, and a stack of reports to his left. In his office there is a board with a rough timeline of events as Obi-Wan has been able to supply them, and a plan on how to act on them. Obi-Wan regularly adds new things after a meditation.

Keeping track of all the events in the timeline, all the threads of planning, allocating resources, the whereabouts and business of all the different people and groups they now have working towards their end goal… it’s a lot. Cody should probably have a headache. He should probably be tired of it.

Cody loves it. At last he gets to use everything he was trained for, and use it for something he can get behind. Not because he’s following orders or because he has no choice, no. Cody gets to choose to be here and do this, and he knows he’s good at it. And he knows the future they’re working towards is one he can be a part of, and wants to be. He never had that before, either.

Kenobi likes to pretend the plan is all Cody, but Cody knows better. The grand plan is part Cody, part Kenobi, part a number of other clones who have weighed in. Even Skywalker and his padawan commander have had a few interesting contributions since they joined the team.

“We really need to figure out who we’re going to send to Korriban,” he calls out. He’s been working in the salle only because Obi-Wan will not stop training, and there are things that really shouldn’t wait much longer. The barriers of hierarchy have loosened enough between them that he doesn’t feel worried about intruding. Besides, Obi-Wan has been spending every free moment sparring or training, lately, so Cody is learning to work around it.

Obi-Wan doesn’t pause in his kata. He’s been at this for over an hour now, and that’s after a spar with Skywalker. Obi-Wan spars with any Jedi willing to board the Negotiator and spare him the time, but he spars with Skywalker most often, and those are the only duels he ends before either of them can claim a decisive victory.

Skywalker has gone off to the fresher long since, but Obi-Wan went on to train alone. Rather than slowing down, he seems to be speeding up. “I know,” he replies, in the midst of a backswing with his lightsaber. “I’m just not sure who could go safely.”

“Skywalker’s free at the moment,” Cody suggests.

Obi-Wan stumbles on his next step and pauses to look at Cody with wide eyes. “Under no circumstances. I don’t want Anakin even in the vicinity of that planet.”

Cody frowns. “What exactly is the problem with this planet? I know it’s a Sith planet, but what does that mean?”

“It’s saturated in the Dark side. There are tombs of deceased Sith Lords there who still have power.” Obi-Wan has resumed the kata, but his movements are less fluid.

There’s a noise from the doorway, and Cody looks up, ready to end the conversation if they’re no longer in private, but whoever it is does not enter the salle. Cody assumes they noticed the occupants and left out of respect. He resumes the discussion. “It can influence a Force sensitive?”

“It may. Whoever goes there needs to have faced their own darkness and be strongly rooted in the Light.”

Cody mulled it over. “Why not just send a platoon of us over, then? We’re not Force sensitive.”

Obi-Wan holds the end pose of his kata for a moment, then begins a new one. “And therefore, will not be able to sense any traps this Darth Plagueis will have set. Quite possibly, whatever information he left there can only be accessed through use of the Force.”

Cody has to concede the point. “Vos?”

Obi-Wan’s overhead strike turns viciously fast. “No.”

Hm. Interesting. “The Knights on our side are too young for you to feel secure in sending them, I presume.”

“Correct.” Still speeding up, Obi-Wan’s movements have become more fluent again, but the style has changed from defensive to offensive. Ataru, if Cody remembers the forms correctly.

“The twins? Tiplee and Tiplar?”

“I’m not sure.” Cody watches him complete a somersault through the air. He’ll never get tired of watching his general show off like this. “They’re quite close and might be used against each other. I’d feel more at ease with an older Master, someone comfortable with their balance between Light and Dark. Like Mace, or Plo.”

Cody notes it down. “We’ll have to see if we can sway either of them to our side, then.” He pauses. “I take it you don’t want to consider going, yourself.”

Obi-Wan ends the kata, moving over to him. “It’s a dangerous planet. If anything were to happen to us, down there, our plan could end up dead in the water.”

He’s covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Cody tracks a droplet sliding down his neck and forces himself to look down at his datapad. He decides not to challenge the automatic assumption that they would be going together. Obi-Wan has left on his own once, since they left the GAR, and he came back looking more haunted than before and unwilling to say a word about where he’s been. “Not a lot of options at this time, then. Any idea where we might encounter Masters Plo or Windu?”

“Hm.” Obi-Wan strokes his beard. “Kadavo, perhaps, for Plo. Wait, has that happened already?”

Cody checks his news pads. “No, nothing on Kadavo yet.”

“Just send me, Obi-Wan,” Skywalker interrupts them, rejoining them in the salle.

Obi-Wan straightens up, and Cody can see him bracing himself. “Anakin, I don’t think–”

“I can handle it,” Skywalker cuts in.

“Korriban is a Sith planet. From what I know of it, there will be Dark artifacts and some very opinionated dead Sith there. I’d prefer to send someone with some experience in these matters.” Obi-Wan runs a hand through his sweaty hair. “No one is saying you’re not capable. You’ll note that I’m not going, either.”

Skywalker clenches his jaw and folds his arms. “Look, I know we messed up with the droids–”

“This isn’t about the droids.” Cody squares up to Skywalker, making sure to put Obi-Wan at his back. “No plan survives contact with the enemy. A battle going sideways is nothing new and doesn’t reflect on you or your skills. This is about the best allocation of resources.”

Skywalkers glances between them. “I heard you talking, you know. You don’t trust me to go there.”

“It’s not about whether I trust you,” Obi-Wan says, frowning. “I only want you safe.”

Skywalker’s jaw works, but he drops his eyes. “Fine. I guess we’ll have to wait until there’s another Council member available, then, huh? Since they’re so much better.” He leaves without waiting for a reply.

Obi-Wan watches him leave and takes a deep breath. He glances at Cody. “I’ll just be in the refresher.”

Cody nods and gets back to his datapads. He needs to find something for Skywalker to do, and quick. The man may have his flashes of brilliance, but his utter lack of respect for the chain of command sets Cody’s teeth on edge, and when he gets like this, Cody wants him off his ship before something explodes.

By the time Obi-Wan gets back from cleaning up, he’s got a few ideas lined up, but before he can run them past the general, he receives a call from Rex on his comm and automatically answers it. “Rex?”

“Commander.” Rex sounds tense. “General Skywalker has just taken his starfighter and left, with no word to anyone. He didn’t update Ahsoka, either. I checked.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widen and he moves closer. “Captain, did he take a hyperdrive ring?”

There’s a pause, presumably Rex verifying this. “Yes, General.”

“He’s going to Korriban.” Obi-Wan starts moving in the direction of the bridge, Cody automatically following him. “I shouldn’t have let him leave like that. I should have gone after him.”

Cody grits his teeth. “He’s a Jedi Knight, sir, he can handle a disagreement.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head as they enter the bridge. “If I only accomplish one thing, it needs to be helping Anakin.”

Someone calls, “General on deck!”

Cody watches the men come to attention.

“Set course for Korriban immediately,” Obi-Wan orders.

They find Skywalker’s starfighter in a valley, slotted between sharp peaks. The red, dusty valley is filled with enormous, foreboding statues and a large structure that’s crumbling with age.

Skywalker sits in a meditation pose in front of the entrance, but his eyes are wide open. He’s staring at nothing.

Obi-Wan sucks in a breath and approaches him slowly, waving Cody and his men back. He would only let Cody bring one squad, and wouldn’t allow Ahsoka to join them in spite of her pleas. They form up in a semi-circle around the two men. Cody may not be Force sensitive, but the hairs on the back of his neck are standing up. His hand falls to his blaster without conscious thought, and he sees his men are doing the same.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks, kneeling down in front of Skywalker.

Skywalker doesn’t even appear to see him, looking right through him, but he answers regardless. “Obi-Wan. I can hear them.”

Cody checks their surroundings, but there are no signs of life besides them. He shifts uneasily.

Obi-Wan glances at him. “I believe he’s hearing the Dark Lords of the Sith in their tombs.” He focuses back on Skywalker. “Anakin, you don’t need to listen. Please. Will you come back with me to the ship?”

Skywalker’s face is almost rapturous. “But it’s so clear here. Can’t you feel it? I could… I have the power to end the war, Master. I only need to reach out and take it.”

His eyes flicker yellow, once. All clones know what that means, and Cody hears several of his men draw their blasters. He stills his own hand when it wants to do the same, laser-focused on Obi-Wan’s cues.

Obi-Wan holds up a hand to the troopers, his eyes still trained on Anakin. “Power isn’t what we need to end the war, Anakin. We need to stand together.”

Skywalker finally looks directly at Obi-Wan. “But I could stop the Sith Master. Cut the head off the krayt.”

“But at what cost?” Obi-Wan shifts closer to Anakin, taking hold of his shoulders. “There’s always a cost, remember? I can’t stop you from taking this power, but you will lose yourself.”

Anakin stares at him, twin tears making their way down his cheeks. “But I could stop everything that you saw, Obi-Wan. Everything that is hurting you so much. Isn’t that worth it?”

Obi-Wan makes a choking sound and pulls him into his arms. Skywalker lets himself be moved without resistance, but his arms stay slack at his sides. “What would hurt me beyond anything else would be to lose you, Anakin.” He tightens his hold, his eyes closing tightly. “Don’t make me lose you. Don’t let Padmé and Ahsoka lose you. Please. Come back with me. If you love me, come back to me.”

Cody holds his breath. It feels simultaneously as if he’s intruding on something private, and as if the whole galaxy is balanced on the edge of this conversation.

Very slowly, Anakin’s arms come up to return the embrace. “Okay, Master. I’ll come with you.”

Obi-Wan releases him and holds him at arms’ length for a moment, looking into his blue eyes, almost as if he’s doubting Skywalker’s sincerity. Skywalker takes the leeway the move gives him to make his way to his feet. He takes one step away from Obi-Wan, wobbles, and then his eyes roll up and he slides back down to the ground.

Obi-Wan makes a move to catch him, but Cody gets there first. He catches Skywalker before he hits the surface and lifts him into his arms. He meets Obi-Wan’s stricken look. “Sir?”

Obi-Wan clears his throat and gets up. “Take him up to the Negotiator. I’ll fly his starfighter. Get us away from this planet the moment we’re docked.”

“And Darth Plagueis?” They’re here now, they could take the opportunity.

Obi-Wan glances behind him at the menacing temple entrance. “Not now. We need to get Anakin away from here.”

Obi-Wan won’t leave the medbay until Skywalker wakes up, so Cody takes the Negotiator and the Resolute to Yavin IV. They’ve been using it as a fallback base since they went into hiding.

Rex finds him that evening, after Skywalker’s been released from the medbay. “What the hell happened down there?”

Cody shakes his head. “I don’t really know. He was doing something in the Force, I think, or the Force was doing something to him. He said he could hear the Sith in their tombs telling him things. Kenobi snapped him out of it.”

Rex paces the floor of his narrow quarters. “There’s something wrong, Cody. He’s – Lately he’s been, I don’t know, happy. Now he’s different. Ahsoka says there’s something weird about his Force presence. She called it unbalanced.”

“General Kenobi stayed with him in the medbay, and I assume he’s had a talk with him, since he put him back on active duty,” Cody tries to reassure him. He doesn’t mention how both Obi-Wan and Ahsoka keep watching Skywalker like an unexploded grenade whenever he’s not looking.

“He didn’t Fall, did he?” Rex asks him, his frame tense even in the privacy of Cody’s room.

“No,” Cody assures him.

He’s not sure how to explain what a close call it was.

Chapter Text

Come walk a tightrope with me
High up, with nothing but courage and gravity
We could fall
          Tightrope – Joy Williams

Bail Organa is just bidding Senators Danu and Tills goodbye, thanking them for an excellent meal, when the restaurant’s host tells him there’s been a mix-up with his personal effects. Bail holds back a sigh and follows the man to the cloakroom to sort it out. He privately notes that he won’t frequent this restaurant again; the meal was not, in fact, excellent, in spite of its price, and now this confusion, when he only gave them his outer robe to hold.

The only upside to this evening has been helping Senator Tills convince Senator Danu to agree to pledge aid to war-torn Mon Calamari, though it took a lot of smooth talking.

He’s eased out of his mood by the apologetic cloakroom attendant, who seems genuinely confused as to how his robe could have gotten lost. “This has never happened to me before, Senator, I’m so sorry…”

Bail waves the poor Bothan off and reassures her, “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll find it in no time at all.”

Upon his description, his robe is found somewhere in the back, and Bail can finally return home to a quiet evening. It isn’t until he’s outside that he realizes there’s a wad of flimsi in his pocket that shouldn’t be there.

Bail schools his expression and doesn’t pull it out until he’s home and away from prying eyes. He unfolds the flimsi, surprised to find it’s a handwritten letter. Despite the rigmarole involved in getting it into his pocket, it’s written in cipher, but thankfully one Bail recognizes and can decrypt rather easily.

As he expected from the cipher, it’s from Obi-Wan. Bail sighs out a breath of relief. He never believed Obi-Wan was actually dead, but it’s good to get confirmation.

My dear friend, the letter reads. I’m sorry for all the subterfuge, but the information I’m about to give you can never fall into the wrong hands. I would prefer not to involve you, to keep you out of danger, but we need eyes in the Senate and yours are the ones I trust most. I have never had cause to doubt your discretion, integrity, or bravery, and I hope you will not blame me for entangling you in this plot.

Bail feels himself flush, and he’s glad he’s alone. He’s grateful for his friend’s high opinion of him, but not entirely sure what he’s done to deserve it. He can’t recall ever showing any particular bravery around Obi-Wan.

The letter explains that Obi-Wan discovered there was a Sith in the heart of the Senate – although it doesn’t say how – and describes the problem with the chipped clones, the reason Obi-Wan decided to go AWOL with his entire battalion. Bail can read between the lines and surmise that the other disappearing Jedi and clones have joined him, and he assumes the disappearing droids are the Jedi’s work as well. The identity of the Sith is not given, but Obi-Wan asks him to pay close attention to those in the Senate who profit the most from the war. He ends on a request to keep an eye on Padmé Amidala, who he claims has been given more information than may have been wise at this time.

Bail’s many years of experience in the Senate have given him the political shrewdness required to see the larger picture in all the seemingly innocuous bills passed and resolutions signed. He can see how much the legislation changes during the war have subtly eroded support for the GAR in general, and the Jedi in particular. The fact that all Republic planets are now expected to produce a fuel tithe to supply the GAR, unevenly impacting those planets with no fuel production of their own. The budget cuts to the Senate’s donation fund for food and resources to religious institutions – of which the Jedi Order is the largest. The denying of many requests for Jedi aid on planets not yet hit by the war, ostensibly because no Jedi can be spared from the war effort.

Bail’s office is good at surveying public opinion, and he knows Jedi popularity is steadily decreasing. Whereas the Chancellor’s popularity is increasing, not because of bills passed, but because of clever PR campaigns that turn every loss into a near personal tragedy for Palpatine, and accredits every victory to his vision and strategy. Bail has tried to argue with the Jedi Council, mostly through Obi-Wan, that the Jedi need to make an effort to show the galaxy how those victories are down to their blood, sweat and tears. But the answer is always the same: a Jedi does not seek personal acclaim or reward. A Jedi humbly serves the galaxy and the Force.

So humbly, Bail has complained to Obi-Wan more than once, that the Jedi may no longer have the credits to feed themselves if the budget cuts continue. And with Obi-Wan now confirming the presence of a Sith in the Senate, Bail can infer that none of this is mere happenstance or incompetence, but malicious intent. Considering who is passing these bills and resolutions, it’s not difficult to deduce the culprit. Either Chancellor Palpatine is the puppet of a Sith, or… he is the Sith.

Bail is well aware Palpatine’s benign old man act is just that, a façade designed to generate popularity and to make political enemies underestimate him. Too many of those political enemies have found themselves discredited, arrested or otherwise removed from office for it to be otherwise. But a Sith? From the stories, he’d imagined someone a bit more overtly evil. Still, puppet or puppet master, Palpatine clearly needs a closer watch.

Alderaanian intelligence already devotes some time and resources to observing Palpatine, but Bail sends an encrypted message to Breha to let her know it needs to be increased. And since Obi-Wan asked him to watch out for Padmé Amidala specifically, he also requests extra eyes on her. His wife will make sure to handle it circumspectly, so nothing can be tied directly to Bail.

“And furthermore, this Chair has decided to pass the Droid Information Collection and Knowledge Bill, allowing the use of droids to gather intelligence from civilian comm travel. Of course this is under the provision that the privacy of our citizens is guaranteed by restricting access to the collected information.” The Chancellor smiles at the cheers of approval his proclamation elicits.

Senator Amidala’s pod has risen to the center of the chamber, and she is given the opportunity to speak. “Perhaps the Chancellor would be willing to explain why this bill is approved now, when only two weeks ago a motion to table the bill was passed by majority vote. Our concerns about the invasion of privacy have not been clearly addressed. I’m sure the people would like to know the reason for this sudden urgency.”

Bail winces. Padmé is certainly taking some risks, lately, frequently challenging Palpatine in public. It’s only confirming his own guesses, but he wishes she would be a little more circumspect.

Palpatine only takes it with his usual calm aplomb. “Naturally, I am willing to elaborate if the Senate wishes it.” He pauses, as if waiting for other senators to chime in, but no one does. “Perhaps you’ll remember, Senator Amidala, that over the last two weeks alone, two more companies of clones and their accompanying Jedi have gone missing. Anti-Republic sentiment is gathering momentum on many Mid-Rim worlds. In such uncertain times, it is highly important for the Republic to find new avenues of investigation. As we all know, knowledge is power. This Chair believes we must do anything we can to discover what is happening to the Grand Army of the Republic. The people will understand, I’m sure, that it is their protection at stake.”

Again, there are sounds of approval from Palpatine’s usual supporters. Padmé’s face has tightened to the point of becoming an emotionless mask throughout this so-called explanation – Bail notes nothing has been said to address invasion of privacy – but she nods gracefully. “Of course. Thank you for explaining, Your Excellency. I think the people will be most grateful to know you take their safety so seriously.”

After the Senate session ends, Bail tries to corner Padmé in the hallway, but he’s too late.

“Chancellor, I hope I didn’t offend, just now.”

Bail has to watch helplessly as Palpatine turns to Padmé with an affable smile. “Of course not, my dear Senator. I do realize that you are only doing your best to represent your constituency. And I fully support transparency in our government. You must ask any questions that you feel your people need answers to.”

Palpatine heads towards his office, clearly considering the conversation finished, but Padmé follows him. Bail tags along behind them, trying to look as if he’s heading in the same direction by accident.

“Thank you, Your Excellency. I… don’t suppose you have a moment of time to discuss the Clone Rights Bill? I really believe that, with the latest developments, it’s more important than ever.”

The Chancellor stops and shakes his head ruefully. “I wish I did, but unfortunately, I’m quite busy. And as you know, the Clone Rights Bill was tabled for the time being.”

“But, Your Excellency, you have the power to push the bill, just as you did with the Droid Information Collection Bill.”

There is a moment of silence. The Chancellor’s smile turns even blander. “But surely, I cannot use my emergency powers to pass the Clone Rights Bill at a time when anti-GAR sentiment is so strong throughout the galaxy. To emancipate the clones would cost the taxpayer many credits. It would only cause more strife. The men who are fighting for us are already discriminated against; this would be a terrible time to give their detractors more ammunition.”

Padmé hesitates, then starts again. “I believe that–”

Bail swoops in and takes her arm. “Senator Amidala, just the person I needed to see.” He feigns surprise at seeing the Chancellor next to her. “Oh, Your Excellency, I apologize. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

Padmé opens her mouth to say something, and Bail clamps down a little harder on her arm.

The Chancellor waves him off. “Not at all, not at all. I think we were just finished, weren’t we, my dear?”

Without waiting for a reply, he heads into his office. Bail draws Padmé away to his own.

“You need to tone it down,” he tells her.

Padmé clenches her jaw. “I’m only fighting for those who are fighting for us.”

“We both know you’re doing more than that.” He raises his eyebrows meaningfully, and watches her eyes widen. “Do not push him. He has ousted more powerful politicians than you from office. I’m sure you remember Chancellor Valorum.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I see. You believe Ob– our friend… is right.”

“You’ve been examining the Chancellor’s career. You tell me.” And if Bails people have noticed her sudden interest, it’s likely that whatever spies the Chancellor employs have, too.

She swallows. “I didn’t want to believe it.”

He rests a hand on her shoulder in sympathy. “We probably shouldn’t discuss this any further here. Will you be careful?”

She nods. “Thank you, Bail.”

Bail and Padmé are both part of the War Relief Initiative, currently led by Senator Mon Mothma. The monthly meetings make for a good regular moment for the two of them to touch base without arousing suspicion.

“For the last item on our agenda, I am in favor of granting Malastare’s request for another shipment of food,” Mon says. “The pressure the Senate is exerting on keeping their fuel production up leaves the Dugs too little time to focus on recovering in other areas.”

“We’ve already sent rather a lot of aid to Malastare,” Padmé says, uncharacteristically curt.

Mon looks at her with a frown on her face. “We have the funds, don’t we? The one good thing about the armies disappearing on both sides of the war is how few battles we see nowadays. Or have donations tapered off?”

Padmé nods, dropping her eyes to the table. “No, you’re right, our budget allows for another shipment.” As the Initiative’s treasurer, she has the best insight into their budget, although she is always very transparent about it – which Bail appreciates, as that has not been his experience in other Senate committees.

Mon looks at Bail, raising her eyebrows. He gives her a minute shrug in return.

“So we’re all agreed, then?” With no other objections, Mon nods. “Senator Amidala, I presume you will take care of the funds?”

Padmé nods, meeting Bail’s eyes briefly. “Of course.”

Bail hangs around after Mon closes the meeting, waiting until he and Padmé are alone. “What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head. “Not here.”

He decides to lead her to his office, just swept for bugs that morning. He’s been more paranoid about his security than ever, since Obi-Wan’s letter.

Padmé turns to him the moment they’re in private. “Bail, the credits aren’t there.”

He sits, and gestures for her to do the same. “What do you mean, they’re not there?”

“For the shipment to Malastare. A week ago, everything seemed fine, but I checked this morning and now it looks like every donation for the last three months at least has had credits skimmed off the top.” She shows him a datapad with the initiative’s financial records.

Bail skims the information and scowls. “Someone in your office?”

She shakes her head. “It’s my personal authorization code on these transactions.”

Bail sits back. “Well, if you’d done it yourself, you wouldn’t be coming to me about it.”

“No, but it looks…” She bites her lip.

“Terrible, I agree.” He looks back at the datapad. “These accounts. Where are the credits going, do you know?”

She sighs. “Several companies on Naboo, who have been struggling financially. Until now, that is. Someone is making it look like I’m using my position as treasurer for the initiative to further my own planet’s interests.”

Bail hums, pondering the issue. “The only people who could know your authorization code are you and the bank who issued it to you. So this must be happening on the side of the bank.”

“Which also explains how they’ve managed to backdate these transactions.” She nods. “And the Banking Clans have always been staunch supporters of Chancellor Palpatine.”

They meet each other’s eyes. Bail says nothing, biting back a number of comments.

Padmé gets up to pace. “I know, Bail, you don’t have to say I told you so. He’s trying to get rid of me.”

He watches her go back and forth. Corruption in the Senate is nothing new, but for Padmé especially it would be a blow to her reputation. “Your stance has always been firmly anti-corruption. If this gets out, and it will, it will undermine not only you, but every piece of legislation you’ve been involved in.”

“Plus this is grounds for an investigation at best, an arrest at worst.” She throws up her hands. “And I think that may not be all. This might be a ploy to draw Anakin…” She stops, and looks at him wide-eyed. After a moment, she continues slowly, “…out of hiding.”

Bail has suspected a relationship between the two of them for a while now, but this is the first time she’s admitted it out loud in his presence, if accidentally. He thinks if she had trusted him even an ounce less, she would have never let it slip, even now. “Because if you’re arrested, you believe he will come for you?”

She sits back down, staring at her lap. “I can’t think of a way to untangle this mess, Bail. Even if I try to claim my innocence – with the use of my authorization code, it’ll be my word against theirs. And the Banking Clans have powerful friends.”

Even if she does prove her innocence, the optics are terrible. Her credibility will take a hit, and she will eventually lose her seat in the Senate. “I wish I had a better idea, Padmé, but I think you may need to leave the planet before it comes to that.”

Her jaw clenches. “And look even guiltier?”

“If you truly believe Anakin Skywalker will come out of hiding to help you, then I’m afraid so.” He decides not to get into that subject any further, though he wonders what could have possessed an otherwise very sensible career politician to start such a liaison. “The risk is too great, and the chances of salvaging this situation too small.”

Her lips thin, and she stares out the window for a long moment. Then she sighs. “You’re right. Even if I find a way out of this, I’ve clearly painted a target on my back. It won’t end here. I don’t want to end up like Mina Bonteri.”

Bail swallows at the reminder of the assassinated former senator. “One of my aides is returning to Alderaan in two rotations for a home visit. We could easily smuggle you onto her ship. Can you keep this under wraps until then?”

She nods. “I think so, unless they’ve already got a plan to expose me. Thank you, Bail. You’re a good man.”

He’s not present when his aide helps smuggle Padmé off Coruscant. But it’s not a moment too soon; later that rotation there’s a warrant issued for her arrest, not only for embezzlement, but for colluding with Separatists. Apparently, she hadn’t dug deeply enough, and some of the credits ended up on Confederate worlds. Unless Palpatine had added that tidbit in later. Bail wouldn’t put it past him.

There is an outcry, and thankfully many of Padmé’s supporters and friends don’t believe the charges, but the damage has been done. As Bail watches the manhunt sweep across Coruscant, he can only be glad they took precautions. He’s informed Breha, and she will take charge of Padmé’s flight from Alderaan onwards.

Bail hunkers down, observes, and takes care to make no waves of his own.

Chapter Text

Break me with the truth, take all my fractions
Shaping something new out of the fragments
         Fractions – Juniper Vale

Boba glares at his plate. Every day the same disgusting slop. Prison cafeteria food is even worse than Kaminoan rations, and that’s saying a lot.

“Eat something,” Bossk says, nudging him. “How else are you going to grow up strong like your father?”

Boba gives him a narrow-eyed look, but he takes a bite. “Shut up. You’re not my nursemaid.”

Bossk hisses, but holds his tongue. Boba rewards him by finishing his meal, despite having no appetite.

It’s been one of those nights. The ones where his dreams make him relive the moment when his father’s head was removed from his shoulders, over and over again. It makes it that much worse to hear his father’s voice coming from the guards all around him all day. Boba’s only comfort is that the clones here never remove their helmets, so he doesn’t have to cope with seeing copies of his dad’s face, as well.

Two clone guards enter the cafeteria and zero in on him. “Fett,” one of them barks. “This way.”

That’s new. Boba hesitates and glances at Bossk, who is rising from his seat, ready to start something. Boba shakes his head sharply at him. Bossk is loyal, but Boba doesn’t need a protector. He squares his jaw and walks over to the guards. “What?”

“Someone wants to see you,” the clone says, tipping his head to the doorway. “Let’s go.”

Boba glances back at Bossk briefly before following. He could try to refuse, but they would just make him, and what would be the point? His dad taught him how to pick his battles. “I thought we didn’t get visitors,” he goads his escort.

There’s no response. They silently lead him to a room where two other clones are waiting, still in the red markings of the Coruscant Guard.

“Boba Fett,” one of them says, “the Jedi Council has ordered to have you brought to the Temple for questioning.”

The second clone puts binders on him. Boba tries to jerk his hands away, but with four clones in the room, he doesn’t have a chance of getting away. “Kriff the Jedi Council,” he spits. “This is Windu, isn’t it? What does he want?”

“Guess you get to ask him directly,” one of the clones from his original escort says, with a none too gentle shove. He hands a datapad to the new clones to sign. “He’s all yours.”

The two new clones take charge of him after that, guiding him through ray shields and down hallways Boba has only seen once, when they put him in here. Boba reigns in his instinct to fight them. Transport is the weakest point in any security, his dad told him several times. This may be Boba’s best shot at escape.

He’s docile as they lead him outside, where an armored speeder is waiting. Inside is a clone in blue markings. Boba is guided to sit down across from him. The two red marked clones enter after him and secure the door behind them.

“Any trouble?” the blue clone asks.

“No, Captain,” one of the red marked clones says, and starts pulling off his armor. “The documentation worked just as promised.”

The second one does the same, as Boba looks on in bafflement. The captain hands them pieces of blue marked armor to replace the red.

“What the kark is going on?” Boba snaps.

“We’re faking your death,” the captain says evenly. “Here, change.”

He’s handed a bundle of clothing. One of the previously red clones, now completely decked out in blue marked armor, undoes the binders on his wrists.

Boba looks around at the three of them. This makes no sense. “Why?”

“Would you like us to take you back to prison?” The captain is giving him a deadpan look, Boba can tell by the tilt of his helmet. He’s not great at telling them all apart, but he can memorize the pointy markings on the helmet of this one.

Boba narrows his eyes. “What do you want? You guys all want me dead. If you’re helping me escape, there’s a reason.”

The captain pulls off his helmet and gives him a penetrating look. His hair is blond, which is distracting. Boba’s rarely seen clones with different colored hair. “Who told you that, Boba? We don’t want you dead.”

Boba swallows. “But I got all those clones on the Endurance killed. And the commander we held hostage.”

“Aurra Sing killed him,” the clone to the left of him says. There’s a five tattooed on the side of his head. “And his name was Ponds, in case you care to know.”

Boba opens his mouth to respond, although he has no idea what to say, but the captain interrupts him. “Change, kid. We have three minutes left.”

Boba hurriedly changes outfits, not sure what to think. No matter what they want with him, though, they’re still his best option for escape at the moment. He spares a thought for Bossk, still back at the prison. He doesn’t need Bossk to protect him, but maybe once he’s on the outside, he can spring Bossk, too. Just because he’d be good to have on Boba’s crew, loyal as he is.

They’ve given him a clone cadet uniform. Of course they have. Boba runs a hand over his scalp, gritting his teeth at the feeling of the buzz cut they gave him when they put him in prison. Now there is no way to tell him apart from the thousands of clone cadets who share his face. He almost wishes for a scar to make him unique.

The speeder takes a swift corner and halts. The three clones get out, pulling him along, and immediately switch to another speeder. They watch the first speeder leave, before heading off in a different direction themselves. The clone with the five on his head is now driving. Boba never even saw the driver of the other vehicle.

They end up at a space port, where a fourth clone joins them a few minutes later, wearing a jetpack. He’s grinning wide, his helmet under his arm. “Went off without a hitch! Unfortunate speeder accident for Boba Fett and two unnamed Coruscant Guards. No survivors.”

The captain claps him on the shoulder. “Nice job, Hardcase.”

Boba frowns. “You wrecked the speeder? They’re going to check for bodies.”

“And they’ll find them,” the speeder-wrecking clone says – Hardcase, apparently. “Burnt and unrecognizable. Lucky for us we all have the same genetic profile.”

Boba stares at him. “You used the bodies of other clones?” He may not care for them, but he knows they’re protective of each other. This seems unusually cold. If they’re faking his death, there must be a dead clone cadet in there.

The captain puts his helmet back on. “This is their last heroic act. Any clone would be happy to help out a brother, even in death. They will be remembered.”

The other clones nod grimly. Boba lets himself be ushered into a ship hardly bigger than Slave 1, barely remembering to look around for a chance to get away. “Where are we going?” he asks, when the ship takes off. The clone with the five on his head is piloting again.

Hardcase answers him. “We’ve got a job on Carlac, and then Mandalore.”

The captain adds, “We can drop you off there, or if you want to go somewhere else, we’ll try to arrange it.”

“So you’re just going to let me walk away,” Boba says skeptically. “Don’t you guys want revenge for the clones who died?”

The captain takes a knee in front of him. “Is that how the world works, Boba? Someone killed your father, so you’ve got to try and kill him? And because our brothers died in the process, now we have to try and kill you?”

Boba stares at him mutely.

The captain shakes his head. “If we went around trying to kill everyone who had ever hurt a brother of ours, we’d never be done.” He meets Boba’s eyes through his visor for a moment longer. When Boba can’t find the words to respond, he sighs and gets up, moving off to the galley.

“You did a kriffed up thing,” the fourth clone says, taking off his helmet. He’s got a Republic symbol tattooed on his face. “But you did it because you were alone and you trusted the wrong people.”

“I’m supposed to believe you’d all forgive me, just like that?” Boba scowls at the two of them.

“Nobody said anything about forgiving you,” Hardcase says. “I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but you’re still a stuck up little shit who thinks he’s better than us. Still, I don’t think you meant for our brothers to die. You just wanted Windu.”

Boba drops his eyes. “There wasn’t supposed to be any collateral damage.”

“Still kriffed up, but not quite as much,” the one with the Republic tattoo says.

“Sending a twelve-year-old to serve a sentence in a prison for adult violent criminals is also kriffed up,” the captain says. He’s come back with ration bars for everyone, handing them out. He offers one to Boba, who refuses, glad he’s recently eaten.

“So why Mandalore? Thought they were neutral,” Boba asks, more to change the subject than out of real interest.

The captain takes off his helmet to eat his own ration bar. “Classified.”

“Right,” Boba sneers. “But you’re bringing me? I knew you wanted me for something.”

“I hate to break it to you, kid,” Hardcase says, “But no one on Mandalore cares about you. You were a side mission.”

Boba can’t pry anything more out of them, so he occupies himself stealing a knife and blaster from the ship’s arms locker under the guise of needing the fresher. He feels better once he’s armed. The captain gives him a sharp-eyed look as if he knows exactly what Boba was doing, but he doesn’t comment.

When Boba starts yawning, the captain shows him to a bunk, surprisingly a private one despite the small vessel. Although maybe no one is willing to sleep with Boba in the room. “You know why we went to get you?” he asks.

Boba glares at him. “No, because none of you will tell me.”

“We’ve got a Jedi who can see the future. He told us what happens to you in the end. It sucks.”

That doesn’t sound good. “Why? What happens?” Boba is not sure he even believes him, but still, it seems smart to find out what this Jedi saw.

“You grow up alone and miserable, but you become a great bounty hunter. And then you get eaten by a sarlacc.” The captain sounds as if he gives people such news every day.

Boba frowns. “What?” It’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. A sarlacc? “And your Jedi wanted you to help me?” Boba asks skeptically.

“No.” The captain shakes his head. “But Cody felt bad for you. That’s CC-2224, when you knew him.”

Boba’s eyes widen. He has only a few vague memories of spending time with some of the clones when they were all still small. Before his dad put a stop to it, telling him the clones weren’t really people. Before the clones outgrew him so fast and they no longer had anything in common. He doesn’t remember much, but he remembers that number.

“He’s the one who asked us to get you out,” the captain continues, seeing the recognition on Boba’s face. “Not because we needed you for anything, but just because he wanted better for you.”

Boba doesn’t really know what to think. “We’re not family. He’s got no reason to want to help me.”

The captain sighs. “You know what, I don’t want to badmouth Prime to you, because I get he was a good father to you even if he was an asshole to us. But there’s one he did to you that is only hurting you now.”

Boba folds his arms. “Yeah? Like what?”

“Telling you that you didn’t have any family but him. He’s the one who left you all alone, kid. If you wanted, you could have millions of brothers.”

Suddenly, Boba is so furious he can barely speak. He pushes the clone away from him. “Shut up! We’re not brothers. I’m not one of you! And stop calling me kid, I’m older than you are!”

The captain lets himself be pushed and doesn’t retaliate, although he blocks any further attempt at a fight. “Only in years, kid. Get some sleep.” As he leaves the room, he turns in the doorway and says, “And by the way, my name is Rex. Since you didn’t bother to ask.”

Boba crumples to the floor once the door closes behind Rex. He folds his arms on his knees and buries his head in them and screams.

Chapter Text

I’m only a man with a candle to guide me
I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me
           Monster – Imagine Dragons

“Sir, there’s a Republic ship requesting permission to land. They claim to have important information for you.”

Bo-Katan glances at Pre Vizsla. Ever since his loss to the Jedi and their subsequent banishment to Carlac, he’s been difficult to handle. She worries that he’s lost his vision. She’d thought that, even though they had been beaten, Pre would rally their forces, train new recruits and plan a new strategy. Instead they’ve been little more than bullies to the surrounding settlements, raiding them for resources. There is no new strategy to regain Mandalore, even a year later.

But he hates the Republic with a passion only second to his hatred for the New Mandalorians. Maybe this will galvanize him, get him back to the resolute leader he once was. She’s been searching for something to shake him out of this complacency. Maybe this is it.

“Let them land,” Pre says, then barks to everyone present in the training room, “Arm up. Let’s meet them with a proper show of force.”

“They’re requesting you and alor’ad¹ Kryze, specifically.”

Bo-Katan raises her eyebrows. As far as she knows, she isn’t even on the Republic’s radar. She looks at Pre for confirmation. “Alor²?”

Pre shrugs. “I would want you at my side anyway.”

The clones meet them on a plain a few klicks from their base. As they land, she and the squad of Nite Owls they’ve brought form up behind Pre.

It turns out to be a delegation of four grown-up clones and a little one. Bo-Katan can’t fathom why they would bring one of their children with them, but far be it from her to question the Republic’s choices. She doesn’t care to understand these outsiders and their politics.

The clones are armed and armored, and none of them remove their helmets even when Pre does. Rude by Bo-Katan’s standards, but then again, it’s not like it’s a mystery what they’ll look like. Bo-Katan notes with some interest that their armor is all painted in the same blue, but the markings are different for each clone. Like Mandalorians, yet different. The clone in front is wearing jaig eyes on his helmet, as if he has any right to it. She grits her teeth at the perversion of her culture.

Pre crosses his arms, pulled up to his full height. “No Jedi, I see. Well? What does the Republic want with us?”

“I’m Rex,” the clone in front introduces himself. “These are Jesse, Fives and Hardcase.”

Bo-Katan can’t hold back a snort. It’s like a child named them. She notices the clone doesn’t introduce the kid he has with him.

“We’ve come to deliver a warning,” Rex continues, “and ask for your help.”

Pre laughs. “Why would we want to help the Republic?”

“To save Mandalore.” Rex levels his visor at Pre. “And yourself, maybe. We have a Jedi who can see the future. He’s seen the destruction of Mandalore. If you’re willing to listen, maybe we can prevent it.”

Bo-Katan sucks in a breath. She knows her history. Jedi may not be their allies, but their powers are not to be trifled with, and there have been prophecies before. This may be a trick, but what if it’s true? “Why would a Jedi warn us? We are enemies. The Republic is allied with my sister Satine.”

“What our Jedi has seen is much bigger than Mandalore or the Republic. The Sith are not as extinct as we believed, and they plan to rule the galaxy. The galactic civil war and the fall of Mandalore are all smaller parts of a larger plan.” Rex nods at Bo-Katan. “If you made peace with your sister, the duchess, and Mandalore were united, you’d stand a chance against them.”

“I still haven’t heard anything that would convince me to believe the word of a Jedi,” Pre says.

Rex shrugs. “You don’t have to believe me, Vizsla. If you do nothing to change the future our Jedi saw, you’ll be dead within the year. So will Duchess Satine. Many Mandalorians will die. The Sith will rule the rest through puppet regents. And within twenty-five years, Mandalore will be destroyed entirely, with the few survivors scattered throughout the galaxy.”

The squad is rigid with tension. Bo-Katan finds her breath coming fast. There is no proof, no reason to believe Rex is telling the truth, but his words ring with the weight of prophecy. And if this is a trick, it’s a pretty outrageous one.

Pre gives the clones a skeptical look. “Our ancestors fought with the Sith and against the Jedi, in ages past. If the Sith are alive and they want to destroy the Republic, I would cheer them on. We would have no quarrel with them, and they’d have no reason to want to destroy us.”

“The Sith don’t want to destroy the Republic, they want to rule it, and the rest of the galaxy as well. Including Mandalore. If Mandalore is divided, it will fall right along with the Republic. And that would be a shame.” Rex looks briefly at the men formed up behind him. “We may not be Mandalorians, but we were created from one, and trained by others. Your culture isn’t ours, but it does have meaning for us. We don’t want to see it destroyed because you were too proud to listen.”

Bo-Katan debates speaking up. Of course they need to be wary of a trap, but a warning of this magnitude can’t just be ignored. Uniting Mandalore has been their goal all along – under Pre’s rule, and with a return to old traditions, true, but maybe they need to consider more flexibility if things are going to happen this quickly.

Pre saunters closer to the clone, invading his personal space until they are almost chest to chest. “You’re one of the clones who have deserted the Republic, aren’t you?”

Rex stiffens. “We still fight for the Republic, just in a different way.”

“Why?” Pre looks him up and down. “You wear armor, plastoid thought it may be. I’ve seen holos of clones fighting; you’re decent warriors.” He glances at the child. “You clearly take care of your young and of each other. Do you speak the language?”

“ Tion’jor gar tion’ibac³?” Rex shoots back.

Pre smiles coldly. “Mandalorian isn’t a race, no matter what the duchess wants people to think. It’s a creed. It sounds like you already follow most of the Resol’nare: the Six Actions you need to live by, to be one of us. If you followed me, instead of your Senate-bound Jedi, you would have a place among us. Millions of warriors to strengthen our ranks would make us a force to be reckoned with. Then we could stand against the Sith. If there is one.”

Over private helmet-comms, unheard by the clones, Bo-Katan hisses, “They’re outsiders, they only have the barest inkling of our culture!”

“They’re an army, which we don’t have,” Pre returns, also over private comms.

Rex tilts his chin up. “Thanks, but we already are a people and we have our own leader. We respect you, but we don’t need to belong with you. This is just a friendly warning.”

Bo-Katan is growing tired of the back and forth. “What’s your suggestion, then?”

Pre glances at her in a clear warning to stay out of it, but Rex seems to have no problem addressing her directly. “Mandalore should stand together. Make peace with the duchess and unite your people. Better yet, help us destroy the Sith before he ever gets far enough to be a threat to Mandalore.”

Bo-Katan blinks. She and Satine haven’t seen eye to eye in years. She doesn’t hate her sister, but reconciliation is impossible as long as their views are so diametrically opposed – and Satine will never unbend far enough to see Bo-Katan’s point of view. Would she?

“Satine Kryze and those who follow her have lost their way. They are not Mandalorians,” Pre spits, pacing away from Rex. “She’s the one who’s weakened our people and made them into pacifists.”

“According to our Jedi, the people of Mandalore are more open to the old ways than you think.” Rex shrugs. “When Mandalore comes under attack, they may welcome you.”

“Oh, they will.” Pre nods. “But I can wait for that day. Let them feel what it means to die in the name of peace, because they are too cowardly to pick up a weapon and defend themselves. As long as the duchess lives and hides under the Republic’s skirts, there will be no peace between us.” He pauses. “This is coming from Kenobi, isn’t it?”

Rex doesn’t reply, but the way he draws back is clear enough. Bo-Katan exchanges a glance with Ursa, next to her. Pre’s obsession with the Jedi who got him banished is becoming worrisome. She wants Mandalore to return to its old glory, and she’s enough of a realist that she understands that will not happen without conflict. But surely Pre won’t see Mandalore’s complete destruction or subjugation as an acceptable cost?

Pre squares up to him again. “Did he really think we would fall for this? Such a transparent ploy for us to bow to Satine in the name of unity?” He takes the Darksaber off his belt and ignites it. I hold the ancestral weapon of our rulers. I am the rightful Mand’alor⁴.”

“Liar!” The kid suddenly breaks off from the group and barrels over to Pre, drawing a blaster and training it on him.

Bo-Katan’s hand automatically falls to her own blaster, but she doesn’t draw it; the kid looks like a pre-teen, and she will not harm a child. She sees the others around her tense, but none of them interfere.

“You never beat my father in combat,” the kid shouts. “He was the rightful Mand’alor, chosen by his people! You’re a fake, and your House is full of traitors!”

Pre looks down at the kid with narrowed eyes. “Your father? I think you mean your donor, little clone.”

If looks could kill, Pre would be dead. “I am Boba Fett of House Mereel, the one true son of Jango Fett. And I challenge you!”

“No, you don’t,” Rex says, pulling the kid back by a shoulder and neatly relieving him of the blaster. “I let you come because you wanted to see traditional Mandalorians. I didn’t allow you to come along for you to get yourself killed like an idiot.”

Boba tears himself loose. “Leave me alone! You’re not my family!”

Rex sighs. “No one here is going to fight you, Boba.”

“Speak for yourself, clone,” Pre sneers. He stalks closer, Darksaber held at the ready. “Go on and fight me, boy. I will end Fett’s cursed line here and now, and then we’ll wait for the Sith or the Separatists to pull Mandalore out of its cowardly neutrality and put the soulless duchess out of her misery. And then finally, we will give Mandalore the ruler she deserves!”

The thing is, Bo-Katan has supported Pre from the very beginning. She does want Mandalore to have the ruler she deserves. She steps in front of Boba, facing Pre. “Pre Vizsla, have you lost your Manda⁵, to attack a child?”

Pre pulls up short, straightening out of his stance. “Step aside, Bo-Katan. He’s not a child. You’ve passed your verd’goten⁶, haven’t you, boy?”

Boba opens his mouth, hesitating, but Rex beats him to it. “No. He attempted to kill his father’s murderer, but he failed, and was imprisoned for his attempt.”

Boba glares up at him, but doesn’t dispute it.

Bo-Katan nods. “Then he’s a child.”

She looks over her comrades in arms, standing silently behind their leader. There is a knot in her stomach. Pre has been her leader for years, and she was willing to follow his orders, turn terrorist to her own people, even stand aside as he tried to have her sister assassinated, because she believed in his vision. To her, he embodied the rich and vibrant culture her sister has been so willing to destroy. But she will not sacrifice her honor by following a leader who is willing to sacrifice his own in the name of victory. It’s taken this forewarning of where their path will lead to open her eyes. And now, his willingness to harm a child, one of the most sacred tenets of the Resol’nare… Has she really been so blind to Pre’s faults?

She raises her voice. “I watched my sister lose her way, disarming our people, melting down our sacred armor, turning her back on our traditions. You watched your father lose his, Pre, mistreating children, tricking the Jedi into slaughtering his enemies for him, letting his rival be sold into slavery rather than challenging him. I believe in your goals, alor. Mandalore needs to regain her lost heritage. But I swore to myself if you ever lost your way like they did, I would be there to stand in your way and remind you of your honor.”

Pre regards her in silence, his face darkening. Then he curls his lip and puts on his helmet. “Fine. Kill them all, including the traitor Bo-Katan!”

The warriors behind Pre shift uneasily, a few drawing their weapons – but no one steps forward. Bo’Katan blows out a silent breath. She hadn’t known with whom her brothers and sisters would side.

Pre looks over his shoulder at them. “What are you waiting for?”

“They’re waiting for you to show them you are not dar’manda⁷,” Bo-Katan says, “and so am I. You would have Mandalore decimated by an outside enemy before you will defend her? You would kill my sister, an unarmed opponent who would refuse to fight you?”

She gestures to Boba. “You would kill a child? It was bad enough for us to join forces with the Separatists and attack our own people, but I believed you when you said it needed to be done. Look where it got us. Hiding in the shadows, scrounging for scraps! Show me you can be the Mand’alor I always saw in you, or I will no longer follow you.”

It hurts her to say it. She’s given so much of herself to his cause over the years, and she doesn’t want to betray him. But there is a line, and Pre is in danger of crossing it. She isn’t surprised that he would order her death for standing against him; she was willing to accept that outcome. But he needs to show his people that he still knows what it means to be Mandalorian. He needs to show them he still has a vision and hasn’t just succumbed to power hunger as his father did.

Rex breaks the heavy silence. “We didn’t have to warn you, Vizsla. We could easily have waited for you to get yourself killed and then stepped in.”

“Those who call themselves Mandalorian rally to the call of the Mand’alor,” Pre says in a low voice, looking at Bo-Katan and the rest of his people. “You will follow my orders, or you will die a traitor’s death!”

Bo-Katan clenches her teeth and draws her blaster and beskad⁸. She hadn’t really believed, until now, that Pre would end up disappointing her like this. With grief in her heart, she says, “Very well. Pre Vizsla, I challenge you.” Mandalore will have the leader she deserves.

Pre immediately attacks her, the Darksaber slicing through her blaster before she can bring it to bear. It’s lucky her beskad is made of beskar and holds up when she blocks Pre’s next swing. He feints and tries to sweep her feet out from under her, but she’s fought him too often to fall for the trick. Jumping back, she pulls her second blaster with her off hand and shoots at the seam in his armor at his neck, but misses.

She barely has the beskad up in time to block his overhand swing. He has two hands on the Darksaber and easily outweighs her, and he puts his full strength into pressing both blades towards her. She has to drop the blaster and take her beskad two-handed to hold him off, and even then she can feel the heat of the Darksaber, hear its crackle close to her face.

Her heart pounds in her ears. Desperately, she ducks under his arm, earning herself a burning slice across her upper arm next to her pauldron. He immediately pivots to meet her, and they trade several blows. He drives her back towards the others in the squad, maybe hoping for them to step in, but they merely part to let them through, watching. Pre snarls and hammers the Darksaber down harder.

He's stronger, but Bo-Katan has spent her whole life training against stronger opponents. She manages to tangle their blades and almost pries the Darksaber from his hands, but he kicks her in the stomach to drive her back, and it’s all she can do to hang onto her own blade.

Using the distance between them, she fires the whipcord from her vambrace to tangle his legs. The Darksaber cuts through it easily and he’s free again. In that time, she’s managed to catch her breath, and she uses her jetpack to go up and over him, shooting at him with her holdout blaster. The blasts deflect off his armor, none finding the seams that she’s aiming for. The force of the blasts drives him back, though, through the squad and almost into the middle of the group of clones.

Bo-Katan’s blaster is almost empty, and she readies herself to renew their sword fight. She is starting to doubt that she can win this. Doubts like that can weaken a warrior, so she shoves them away with determination, accepting every possible outcome, including her death, but focusing relentlessly on victory.

Then suddenly Boba Fett jumps onto Pre’s back and stabs him in the throat with a knife.

“No!” Bo-Katan shouts, just as Rex and Fives grab onto Boba and pull him off.

Pre chokes on his own blood, trying to stem the flow with his hand. He swipes wildly behind him, slicing Rex, who is shielding Boba, across the backplate, right through the plastoid. Rex drops to his knees, cursing, but the wound seems shallow.

Then the Darksaber falls from Pre’s hand, switching off, and he sinks to the ground. Bo-Katan is torn between going to his side and finishing him off. In the end, she simply watches him bleed to death.

She takes off her helmet, briefly closing her eyes to commit Pre’s name to her Remembrances. Then she glares at Boba. “How dare you interfere in a challenge?”

Boba has wrestled himself free from Rex and Fives and grabs the bloodstained hilt of the Darksaber. “You interfered in mine! I was first. And since I finished him, I’m Mand’alor now.”

The rest of the squad has joined them by now. “That’s not how it works,” Ursa Wren tells Boba. “You attacked an opponent who was fighting another battle, and who had his back turned. Your victory wasn’t fairly won.”

But neither is Bo-Katan’s, and that’s a problem. It means no one has really won the Darksaber today. She looks at her fellows. They’re not going to follow a clone child, that much is obvious. But Bo-Katan knows how they’ve all been itching to fight a worthy opponent, rather than languishing in banishment on this Manda-forsaken rock. “If you follow me, I will lead us to Mandalore. I will sue for peace with my sister, but only on the condition that we keep our armor and traditions, and that whoever is willing to join us can do so and defend Mandalore against all threats.”

No one responds immediately.

Then Ursa moves over to Boba, who glares up at her. “You’ve behaved dishonorably,” she says. “If you were past your verd’goten you would have made yourself dar’manda just now. But you are a child, and you have time to learn. Now make up for your mistake.” She holds out a hand.

Boba clenches his jaw, looking down at the ground. Fives nudges him. Very slowly, he hands over the Darksaber. Ursa takes it from him, turns, and holds it out to Bo-Katan.

Bo-Katan takes it from her reverently and ignites it.

“All hail Bo-Katan Kryze, our new Mand’alor,” Ursa cries, looking at the rest in the squad as if daring them to oppose her.

The Nite Owls don’t seem inclined to. “Oya⁹!” they exclaim as one.

Bo-Katan smiles briefly. She loses the smile the instant her eyes fall on Pre’s body, however. “Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la¹⁰,” she says, bowing her head. The others follow suit. “We will take his armor and keep it in a place of honor for his clan.” She turns to the clones. “Say that we believe you and your Jedi’s warning. Will you go with us to Mandalore and tell my sister the same thing?”

Rex has regained his feet, although he’s tense with pain and leaning on Jesse. “Our Jedi is already there to give her the same warning. If you go with us, he’ll help negotiate peace, if you want it.”

Bo-Katan nods. “All right. To Mandalore it is.”

Glossary (or in other words, why, why, what did I do to myself)

1. alor’ad: captain [↑]
2. alor: leader [↑]
3. tion’jor gar tion’ibac: Why do you ask? [↑]
4. Mand’alor: sole ruler of Mandalore [↑]
5. Manda: soul [↑]
6. verd’goten: Mandalorian rite of passage [↑]
7. dar’manda: no longer Mandalorian, apostate [↑]
8. beskad: Mandalorian sword [↑]
9. Oya!: Mandalorian cheer, in this case meaning Hooray! [↑]
10. Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la: Not gone, merely marching far away [↑]

Chapter Text

Open up your hands
The heavens are dreaming to give you the
Expanse
         The Expanse – Juniper Vale

Raydonia is lovely. There are bioluminescent plants everywhere under a deep red sky, everything tinted hues of blue and green. Ahsoka gently touches a flower (she thinks it’s a flower, anyway) and watches a puff of sparks go up.

“It honestly feels peaceful here,” she tells Anakin.

Her Master nods, looking over his shoulder at Obi-Wan, who has been sitting in a meditative pose for over an hour now. In the background the people of the village, at first perturbed by their arrival, are now going about their business cheerfully. “I know. I sense no conflict or warning in the Force here. But Obi-Wan’s visions – or whatever they are – haven’t been wrong yet.”

Obi-Wan is frowning, sweat breaking out on his brow. Ahsoka and Anakin move back over to him, nodding at Cody, who has been standing watch over Obi-Wan since the start of the meditation. Ahsoka kneels in front of Obi-Wan, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

Anakin closes his eyes and hisses through his teeth. Ahsoka doesn’t have the same type of bond with Obi-Wan, but to her senses, he is growing… pale. As if he is less here and more elsewhere. She’s heard warnings of going too deep into the Force and losing yourself, but she’s never seen anyone come close to doing so before.

Anakin stands behind Obi-Wan and lays his hands on his shoulders. “Obi-Wan,” he says quietly, and she feels him reaching out in the Force. She’s a bit surprised at how smoothly it’s going for him; he’s been very unsettled since Korriban, and the Force has been responding to him unpredictably.

Obi-Wan shivers and his Force presence strengthens. His eyes blink open.

Anakin releases him and crouches down next to Ahsoka. “Are you all right?”

Obi-Wan stares at nothing, frowning. “He’s not here. And he won’t be.”

“I don’t feel anything either, Master.” Anakin shrugs at him and glances at Ahsoka.

“Isn’t that… good?” she ventures.

Obi-Wan seems to come back to the present. “For the people here, yes. For us… something has changed.”

“We’ve been changing a lot of things,” Anakin shrugs. “Isn’t that the point?”

Obi-Wan glances at him. “I suppose so. One change leading to another… like ripples in a pond. Yes. But I can’t think what we did that would have stopped him from…” He trails off, looking around again as if he’s expecting something to have changed.

“Who were you expecting to find?” Ahsoka asks. He’s only told them to expect a battle.

Obi-Wan looks at her, hesitating, and then says, “Darth Maul.”

Anakin’s mouth quirks up. “Maul? The Sith you killed on Naboo? Obi-Wan, you cut him in half. He’s very dead.”

“Yes, well, it turns out he’s not, and apparently even half a Sith can make for a rather large problem.” Obi-Wan gets to his feet, and they follow. “And if we’ve changed enough things that he’s not here, then we have no way of knowing where he is, instead. Very unfortunate.”

“Why would you get a vision of him being here, then?” Ahsoka wonders.

“It’s… more like one very large vision at the beginning of all this.” Obi-Wan looks at Cody, who is looking grim. “We’ve been acting off the information from that this whole time.”

“We did expect our changes to eventually make the intel less useful,” Cody admits. “It may be happening a little sooner than we thought.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “We don’t say ‘the future is always in motion’ for nothing, I suppose.”

“So… if nothing is happening here, do we go to Mandalore now?” Anakin asks.

Obi-Wan has his fist to his mouth, a pose Ahsoka recognizes as him strategizing. “To be honest, I’m not sure we need to, now. I expected Maul to be the one to attack there, as well.”

“General, we should go either way,” Cody says. “For one thing, a united Mandalore, especially if they’re on our side, will still hurt the Sith’s plans. It will still be a force to stand against him. And for another… Rex will be heading there now, possibly with Death Watch.”

Ahsoka and Anakin were supposed to have split up to go to Carlac with Rex, leaving Obi-Wan to come here. The plan was to rendezvous at Mandalore. Then Anakin ran off to Korriban by himself, something happened there that he won’t talk about, and Obi-Wan decided he didn’t want them to split up anymore – and Ahsoka can’t really blame him. Now Rex is handling the Death Watch mission by himself.

Obi-Wan looks stricken. “Of course, Cody. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply we’d leave your brothers in the lurch.” He straightens and rolls his shoulders back, slipping into his role of general like putting on a cloak. “Events are not as I saw, but I shouldn’t let it make me shortsighted. Let’s head to Mandalore.”

“Looking forward to seeing Mandalore again?” Anakin teases.

They’re supposed to be settling down to meditate; Obi-Wan has been very insistent on it since Korriban. It doesn’t seem to be working very well, though. Ahsoka’s actually a little worried about how it only seems to frustrate Anakin and make him more unbalanced.

She doesn’t know what to do with it, and falls back on backing up her Master in hopes of distracting Obi-Wan. “Or maybe one specific person on Mandalore?”

Obi-Wan only huffs. “I do know what you’re doing, you know.” His eyes haven’t opened.
Anakin is grinning at Ahsoka, safe in the knowledge Obi-Wan can’t see it. “I was just thinking, we’re not part of the Order right now… This would be a great time to talk to Satine about how you feel.”

She grins back at him and adds on. “Maybe shave off the beard. I heard she didn’t like it.” It’s so easy to fall into the banter.

Obi-Wan sighs, but still doesn’t open his eyes. “People who are properly focused on their breathing do not talk this much.”

Anakin casts Ahsoka a wry look and closes his eyes, so she follows suit. She concentrates on the feel of her breath going in and out, first finding clarity of focus before expanding outwards, meeting her Master’s mind and then Obi-Wan’s.

She’s immediately reminded of the reason why Obi-Wan insists on so much meditation. If Anakin previously looked like a sun to her Force sense, now that sun seems to experience continuous solar flares. Every emotion seems to blaze outwards, leaking freely through his shields. His Force presence wobbles and fluxes, and although Ahsoka doesn’t like to admit it, she can feel a distinct Darkness to some parts of it. She doesn’t like to look at it. And that’s not how a Jedi should act, she knows that. Ignoring the problem won’t make it go away - but then, neither has meditating, so far.

As their breathing starts to match each other, she can feel Anakin expanding further and further. He’s always made it look easy, but now it looks uncontrolled. Ahsoka tries to follow him and expand her awareness, but he outstrips her too quickly. Within seconds he seems as large as a solar system.

She can feel him struggling to pull back, which is new as well. Obi-Wan’s presence reaches out and eases him back, the way Anakin did for him just hours ago, until they’re all back in their bodies.

Ahsoka’s eyes blink open, and she’s disappointed to see they’ve only been at it for minutes.

Anakin’s solar flares of Force are no less agitated for it. He’s scowling at the floor. “I’m sorry, Master, I’m trying.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan replies calmly, but when he briefly meets Ahsoka’s eyes, she can see the worry lines around his have deepened.

There’s a chime at the door. It’s Cody, carrying one of his ever-present datapads. “Sorry to interrupt, Generals, but I thought you’d want to see this.”

They get up and crowd around the datapad to read. This turns out to be a news item from Coruscant, covering how Senator Amidala has been accused of embezzlement and treason, and there is a warrant out for her arrest.

The entire ship trembles, lights flickering. The temperature in the room is dropping sharply. Cody backs up to the wall, datapad in hand, stumbling as if he’s been pushed.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan bites out. “Be mindful of your–” He cuts himself off, closing his eyes tightly for a moment.

Ahsoka grabs her Master’s arm, trying to give him something to ground himself on. The solar flares have turned cold, and she’s frightened, but he’s still Anakin, and she’s not about to abandon him to – whatever this is. “Master,” she implores. “Padmé is one of the bravest and most competent people I know. She’s faced much worse than this. She’s going to be fine.”

Anakin looks down at her, and she tries to hide her relief that his eyes are still blue. “We need to go to Coruscant,” he says, breath coming fast.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, much gentler this time, “Ahsoka is right. Padmé is very good at handling herself. The article states that she hasn’t been found yet. Besides, I asked Bail Organa to look out for her. I promise you he will have taken action to make sure she’s safe.”

Anakin’s fists are tightly clenched. “Am I supposed to just sit and wait?”

“The article says she hasn’t been found, so we know she must have found a way to get herself to safety,” Cody interjects. “Best not undo that by starting a manhunt of our own. If any of us go to Coruscant, all we’ll do is bring more attention down on her.”

Anakin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in. The temperature in the room climbs a little.

“Sit, please,” Obi-Wan urges. “We’re no good to anyone like this. We need to find a way for you to regain some control over your gifts.”

“I’m trying,” Anakin forces out.

Ahsoka pulls on his arm, trying to get him to sit down. Over Anakin’s shoulder, she sees Cody exchange a complicated look with Obi-Wan and leave.

Anakin gives a shuddering sigh and allows her to pull him down. He settles on his knees, still breathing too quickly. “Can we contact Organa?”

“We will,” Obi-Wan assures. “But first let’s focus on this.” On you, he’s not saying, but they all know what he means.

Obi-Wan has them focus back on their breathing, and nudges Ahsoka through the Force to first match Anakin’s quick pace, then slowly brings them down to a more even flow of breath.

Anakin is still trembling a little, although the temperature has normalized. “You’re going to tell me to be mindful of my emotions again, aren’t you?”

Obi-Wan hesitates. “I do realize just saying it isn’t helpful for you. Ahsoka?”

Ahsoka opens her eyes and meets his. “Master?”

“When you try to be mindful of your emotions, what do you do?”

She bites her lip, trying to put it into words. It’s not something she’s very good at, and she’s not sure why Obi-Wan thinks it’s a good idea to put her up as some kind of example to her own Master. “I… guess I try to label what I’m feeling, and then let it pass me by, like thoughts during a meditation.”

Obi-Wan nods slowly.

Anakin has opened his eyes as well, looking between them. “That’s pretty similar to what I do. But right now…” He grimaces. “It’s like an emotion passes me by and then comes back for another round. I can’t–” He breaks off, shaking his head.

Obi-Wan is radiating a soothing energy in the Force, and it’s gentling Anakin’s unsteady Force presence. “All right. Let me try to put this into different words: when I’m being mindful of my emotions that means I first become aware that I’m having one. I let myself feel it as fully as I can, without being overwhelmed.”

“How do you not become overwhelmed? That’s… Right now, it’s just so… much.” Anakin glances at Ahsoka, then drops his eyes again. She realizes that he’s ashamed, and she wonders if it wouldn’t be better for her to leave. It can’t be comfortable for her Master to be so unbalanced in front of his own Padawan.

“You can take a step back from them by focusing on other things.” Obi-Wan catches her eye, and she looks towards the door meaningfully, a question in her eyes. He shakes his head once before turning back to Anakin. “For me, my breathing works, but that may not be a good anchor for you.”

Ahsoka hesitantly adds, “I try to feel my body, what I’m touching, the surface I’m sitting on, that kind of thing.”

Anakin closes his eyes again. “That does actually feel a little better,” he admits after a moment.

“Other people use other senses,” Obi-Wan says. “What you hear, smell, taste. For you it might even work to focus on the people around you in the Force.”

Slowly, they watch the tension seep out of Anakin’s frame. His Force presence evens out.

“Excellent,” Obi-Wan praises. Ahsoka notices Anakin smiling almost involuntarily. “Once you’re calm enough to feel your emotions without them pulling away all your focus, you search your thoughts and feelings to determine why you’re feeling what you feel. Then you either acknowledge the feeling, but let it pass you by without it informing your decisions, or you act on it.”

Anakin ruminates on this for a moment. “When have you ever acted on your emotions? I don’t recall seeing you ever do it.”

Ahsoka is wondering the same. “I’ve only ever heard the advice of letting the emotion pass you by. Not to act on it. Do you?”

“Ah.” Obi-Wan is smiling. “You’ve never seen me hug anyone? You haven’t felt my hand on your shoulder when I was proud of you? You haven’t seen me help a wounded trooper to the medics?”

Anakin rolls his eyes. “You’re saying… Okay, yeah. But that’s all… positive stuff. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you act in anger.”

“Well, I have, but I have always regretted it afterwards. In hindsight, there were always better decisions to make. So, I’ve learned, over time, that for me it’s better to let anger pass me by. I feel it, I acknowledge that I’m feeling it, but I don’t let it inform my actions.”

Oh. Oh. Ahsoka is starting to understand this is a lesson for them both, not just to help Anakin. She knows her sense of justice, especially, has gotten her into trouble in the past. “So, you can be angry but not… lash out?”

“I can. I feel it, but I don’t like to let it overwhelm me. Acting on emotions has its place, but there are emotions that are better acknowledged, but not acted upon. For me, anger is one of them.”

“You keep saying, for you,” Anakin says. “Wouldn’t that go for anyone?”

“Mace Windu uses his anger to good effect in his lightsaber form, if you’ll recall. He has found a way to express his anger without touching the Dark side, for which I admire him. I don’t have that fortitude, myself.” Obi-Wan meets their eyes one by one. “The answers are not the same for everyone, and they don’t have to be.”

Ahsoka eases out of her meditation posture, pulling up her knees to rest her chin on them. “That’s confusing.”

“It can be, if we want there to only be right answers. I’ve learned that the world is rarely so simple as to have an answer that is completely right or completely wrong.” Obi-Wan focuses back on Anakin. “You remember the adage your focus determines your reality?”

Anakin frowns. “I thought that was mostly to remind us to stay in the here and now.”

Obi-Wan nods. “It also means that whatever we consider to be true, we can make true, especially when it comes to ourselves. If we believe we can do something, we’re very likely to prove ourselves right. Like lifting something very large with the Force. But it can also impact us negatively. If we believe we can’t do something, we’ll likely fail at it. It’s also why Master Yoda likes to say–”

“Do or do not, there is no try,” Ahsoka and Anakin finish in unison.

“What does that have to do with our emotions?” Ahsoka asks.

“What we choose to focus on, positive or negative, will direct our path in life.” Obi-Wan is still looking at Anakin. “Anakin? Are you all right to talk about Korriban?”

Anakin swallows hard, glancing at Ahsoka again. “I… think I touched the Dark there.”

He’s clearly embarrassed by it, but it’s nothing Ahsoka hasn’t guessed for herself. “But you didn’t Fall, Master.”

“I think the problem with Falling is that we’ve been taught you can’t come back from it,” Obi-Wan says. “And this determines our reality. You did touch the Dark on Korriban.” He nods at Anakin. “But you stopped. And right now, I think you may be feeling unbalanced and having a hard time controlling your gifts, because you believe yourself to be unbalanced and out of control. It’s not your control that is shaken, but your faith in yourself.”

Ahsoka considers this, and she can see Anakin doing the same. “If that’s true, what does that mean? Can you… unFall?”

Obi-Wan takes both their hands. “I think after Falling, you can still get back up. But not if you believe it to be a one-way hyperlane. You stopped, Anakin. Try to find faith in yourself again, knowing that. I know Ahsoka and I have faith in you.”

Anakin is blinking away moisture in his eyes, not looking at either of them. “That means a lot, Master.”

“Then can we keep practicing this? Next time we receive some bad news I’d like to avoid all the theatrics.” Obi-Wan squeezes both their hands as he says it, as if to reassure them his customary wit isn’t meant to hurt.

Ahsoka knows this, but she thinks Anakin might need the support right now. “I’d actually appreciate that, Master.” She knows Obi-Wan and Anakin have had several talks like these, and she understands now why Anakin has seemed to benefit from them so much.

Maybe there hasn’t been enough opportunity to question the conventional wisdom at the Temple, and that’s why some things are still so difficult for her, while other things, like lightsaber work, come so easily. The answers are not the same for everyone, and they don’t have to be. No Master has ever said that to her before. Maybe that means it’s okay to choose a different way to accomplish something than what she was taught.

Anakin is smiling wryly at Obi-Wan. His Force presence is remarkably settled, compared to how it’s been since Korriban. “Me, too. I think the men would probably like to avoid the theatrics as well.”

Chapter Text

Night is falling here and pulling the curtain
With the closing of our eyes
I don't wanna leave your side
          The Last Time – Juniper Vale

She awaits them on the landing platform; she can’t help herself. She hadn’t quite believed the news of Obi-Wan’s death, but seeing him in the flesh is such a relief, all the same, that she’s a little lightheaded with it.

“Masters Jedi,” she says, smiling in welcome. “Padawan Tano. It’s so good to see you all well.”

Knight Skywalker reaches her first, bowing and kissing her hand. “Duchess.”

“It’s good to see you, Duchess Satine,” Padawan Tano is next to step up, and Satine takes the opportunity to embrace the girl. The thought of losing Obi-Wan was terrible, but somehow there was also something very bitter in the idea of the loss of all the promise and talent in this young Togruta.

“And you as well,” she tells her.

Then Satine turns her eyes to Obi-Wan. Still that beard, unfortunately, but she can allow that it makes him look distinguished. His face is more lined than she remembers, as if stress is hollowing him out. His blue eyes are missing that sparkle. He also bows and kisses her hand, but for a wonder, he seems entirely at a loss for words. “Where’s your silver tongue, my dear?” she murmurs for his ears alone.

He straightens up, still holding her hand, looking into her eyes for a long moment. She can see him swallow heavily. Then he takes a deliberate step back, clears his throat, and says, “My apologies, Duchess. We didn’t expect to see you quite so soon after landing.”

Satine frowns, looking him over. She finds herself struck by the ridiculous thought that this isn’t Obi-Wan, or at least, not her Obi-Wan. Something is different about him. There’s a distance between them that shouldn’t be there. “I was equally surprised to get your message, after receiving the news of your disappearance. To what do I owe this visit?”

“Perhaps we can go somewhere to talk privately,” Obi-Wan suggests, his eyes not quite meeting hers.

“Of course,” she replies automatically. There is something very wrong here.

“A Sith at the heart of the Republic’s Senate, waging war with another Sith to draw all power towards themselves and rule the galaxy…” She takes a deep breath. “It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Satine says, as gently as she can. Her eyes scan over the Jedi, arranged before her throne, all three looking at her earnestly. She believes that they believe what they’re saying. She wants to say more, but words desert her as she sees the despair grow in Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Obi-Wan…”

“You believe, you simply disagree with our proposed solutions before we’ve proposed them,” he says. “Am I correct?”

“Your proposed solution would be to end Mandalore’s neutrality and fight against this… Sith Master. Am I correct?” she shoots back.

“Your Highness,” Knight Skywalker interrupts, “I have to warn you, you are not the only Mandalorian we’re giving this information to. Some of our men have gone to speak with the Death Watch. If they’re willing to listen, they’ll be on their way here to discuss what to do.”

Padawan Tano chimes in, “We urge you to receive them. This could be your chance for peace, true peace, in your system.”

Satine feels her stomach twist into knots. She glares at Obi-Wan. He may be letting others speak for him, but she knows who is the real instigator here. “You would invite Death Watch here, onto my planet, into my city, without my approval? How dare you?”

Obi-Wan glares back, and she’s almost glad to see his usual fire. “I am trying to save your planet and your city. I’m trying to save you, Satine.”

“Ha!” She knew he was holding something back. “So, in this vision of yours, I die, is that it? And you’re willing to expose my people to warmongering barbarians like Pre Vizsla, hoping they will help save my life?” She stands and confronts him directly. “What gives you the right? I thought you were better than that, Master Kenobi.”

He flinches. “I knew it would be against your wishes, Satine. But there are greater enemies than Death Watch out there.”

“The only true enemies of peace are those who believe the end justifies all means,” she tells him, watching his eyes narrow at the barb. For a moment, the tension between them is as electric as it has always been.

Obedig Daug, captain of her guards, enters the throne room, breaking the silence. “Your Highness, we’ve received word from the port. Several ships are requesting permission to land. One is Republic, the others are… Mandalorian.”

“Death Watch,” Satine surmises. She gives the assembled Jedi and clones a look. “I hope you realize what you’ve done.” She turns to Captain Daug. “Let them land. We will not be the first to provoke conflict.”

She leaves them in the throne room to take a moment to compose herself. She’s so angry her hands are trembling. How dare Obi-Wan?

This has always been the conflict between them, and if she’s honest, the true reason they have never acted on their feelings for each other. When it comes down to it, he will always choose to accomplish his goals by any means he deems appropriate, even if it runs counter to her beliefs. And now he’s brought Death Watch to her doorstep.

Her people are far more numerous, but only the guard has armor, and their weapons are meant to incapacitate, not kill. If it comes to violence, they will not easily be able to stand against the warriors of Death Watch, and many will die. But she can’t simply surrender, either. That would mean allowing her people to be drawn back into conflict and war, and she’s sworn she would never let that happen. An appeal to the Republic for intervention will not bring help quickly enough and will damage the treaty safeguarding Mandalore’s neutrality. How is she meant to protect her people?

“Duchess?” Captain Daug stands in the doorway. “They’re almost at the palace.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Then she steels herself. “Thank you, Captain. I will receive them in the throne room.”

The Death Watch delegation consists of four people and the clones who brought them here. The atmosphere is tense as the armored Mandalorians file in. Satine searches for the armor of Pre Vizsla. It’s not among them.

“Welcome,” she says. There is no reason to incite hostility right away. “I must tell you honestly that you are not here by my own invitation. However, if you truly intend to discuss peace between us, I am willing to listen.”

The warrior in front takes off her helmet, and Satine sucks in a breath. “Su cuy’gar¹, sister,” Bo-Katan says. “It’s… good to see you.”

Satine stands without meaning to. She can’t help but move down the steps to meet her sister. They haven’t seen each other in years. Her eyes trace the severe cut of Bo’s red hair, the new sharpness of her jaw and cheekbones. She’s lost all the baby fat. She looks… grown up, yet still so young. “Bo-Katan,” she breathes. “We have been at odds for so long…” Her baby sister broke her heart when she joined the Death Watch, loudly proclaiming her disgust with Satine’s pacifist goals. To see her here now is a bitter-sweet joy.

Bo-Katan raises her chin. “I came here hoping to change that. But I didn’t come for myself. I came for my people.” She glances at the warriors behind her. “All of our people, in fact.”

Satine frowns. “Where is Pre Vizsla?”

“Dead.” Bo-Katan is shockingly matter of fact about it, while Satine knows she followed Vizsla out of true admiration. “I am Mand’alor now.” Her hand falls to her hip, where the hilt of the Darksaber sits.

Satine backs up a step. “Mandalore no longer recognizes the office of the Mand’alor.”

“Well, Sundari doesn’t,” one of the warriors behind Bo says. “We do. And the rest of Mandalore, the neutral clans outside the capital… I think they would recognize the Mand’alor in a heartbeat if it meant being allowed to practice the old traditions.”

Satine looks at her and raises an eyebrow at Obi-Wan, who stands silently to the side, watching this confrontation. He steps forward at her silent urging. “Are you here to discuss peace, or conquest, Lady Kryze?”

Bo-Katan cuts him a cold glance. “The Mand’alor is meant to be ruler of the warriors of Mandalore. I’m not planning to give up the title, my armor and weapons and simply surrender to your rule, sister.” She looks back at Satine at this. “And neither will my people. But I freely admit I’m no politician. My experience extends to running a company of warriors, not a planet. If we can agree to let our ideologies stand beside each other, I see no reason we can’t also let the offices of Mand’alor and Duchess reign together.”

And there is the sticking point. “Wearing armor and weapons is illegal on Mandalore, except for those in the guard,” Satine reminds her. “Your ideology runs counter to the law.”

Bo-Katan narrows her eyes. “A law you helped create and implement, and therefore a law you can repeal.” She looks at the Jedi. “If your Jedi friends are right, Mandalore will need all the armor and weapons she can get, soon enough.”

“And if you think the old clans truly disarmed and melted down their armor as ordered, you’re a fool, Duchess Kryze,” the same warrior from before says.

Satine raises an eyebrow at her. “And you are…?”

“Ursa Wren, Clan Wren, House Vizsla.” Ursa takes off her helmet and holds it under her arm. “You believe all beings on Mandalore want peace more than they want their traditions. I believe you’re wrong. Why not let the people choose for themselves which ideology to follow?”

“The people have chosen,” Satine reminds her. “I am an elected official, after all.”

“That was then, this is now,” Ursa replies. “There’s a galaxy-wide war on. I can guarantee you, many Mandalorians won’t be quite so complacent about losing their weapons and armor now.”

“We won’t force any New Mandalorian pacifist to fight if you won’t force us to live as pacifists,” Bo-Katan adds. “I do recognize that, after the devastations of the Great Clan Wars, you’ve led Mandalore to new prosperity through your treaties and trade. I don’t deny your contribution to the greatness of Mandalore. But now we need to make sure we can defend that prosperity. Surely, we can learn to live alongside each other, for the good of our people.”

“That sounds like a reasonable compromise,” Knight Skywalker joins in. “Many other societies who hold pacifism as an ideal, such as Alderaan, still agree that you have a right to defend yourself. Why not let Death Watch, and whoever is willing to join them, protect Mandalore from attackers?”

Satine knows Skywalker is dear to Obi-Wan, but she does wish he wouldn’t bring the young man along so often. His willingness – even eagerness – to use force is distasteful to her and he clearly hasn’t learned to imitate his former Master’s way with words. “It is not, in fact, a reasonable compromise,” she argues. “From what you tell me, this Sith Master is mostly interested in Mandalore because, as a warrior culture, it would pose a threat to him. It stands to reason that arming ourselves would only paint a target on our backs and invite attack.”

“Our system is the only source of beskar, Satine,” Bo-Katan reminds her. “There will always be those willing to invade.”

“Even so, violence is not the only answer. If the Republic or the Separatists do attack, we can appeal to the Council of Neutral Systems for aid. Diplomacy hasn’t failed us yet.”

Bo-Katan gestures at the Jedi. “From what I’ve seen, your diplomacy boils down to asking others to fight your battles. That’s not peace, that’s hiding behind a meat shield.”

Satine draws herself up. “As you said, you’re no politician. We do not ask others to fight our battles for us, we ask them to intercede. Against my wishes, that has indeed resulted in offers of military aid, but that was never my intention. There are other ways to deter an attacker. Other systems can stand with us through sanctions, trade embargoes–”

“Satine, we are talking of Dark Lords of the Sith!” Obi-Wan cuts in heatedly, making several people jump in surprise after his long silence. “Their power increases through the pain and fear of others. If his own people must starve in order to subjugate yours, so much the better, for their suffering will feed his power as well. There is no reasoning with evil such as this!”

Satine has seen him close to losing his temper before, but she’s never seen him like this. “I understand you’re trying to save me, Obi-Wan, and I appreciate the idea, if not the execution. But you forget: I will gladly lay down my life for my people. I swore an oath that Mandalore would never fall to war and violence again. I would be a poor ruler if I broke that oath purely because my own life may be threatened. I will not bow to fear.”

Obi-Wan clenches his fists. “That’s all well and good, but what do you think will happen to Mandalore if you die?”

“Live on, as it always has.” Satine steps closer to him and takes his hand, hoping to revive the gentler version of him. “You say you’ve seen the future, and from what you’re telling me it sounds terrible.” Though she’s guessed he’s still keeping much of what he’s seen to himself. “Do you honestly believe more violence is the answer?”

He looks her in the eyes for a long moment, before looking away. “Love, and faith. Those are the answers. The Sith sow fear and discord, and the only remedy is to stand together and trust. But it seems I’ve lost your trust, Duchess. And I’m sorry for that.” He kisses her hand, and drops it. Then he turns to Bo-Katan. “If you wish, we’d welcome you into our army to fight with us against the Sith and prevent him from ever reaching Mandalore. If you’d rather return to Carlac, or try to rally the old clans to your side, we won’t stand in your way. I only ask that you do not attack those who refuse to defend themselves.” He looks around the room, not meeting Satine’s eyes this time. “We’re leaving.”

And to Satine’s astonishment, he does. She’s never known him to back down from a fight before. “Obi-Wan!”

There is no reply. Skywalker and Tano exchange a look, then bow and excuse themselves as well, followed by the clones. The room feels echoingly empty once they’ve left.

Bo-Katan watches them go, then looks back at Satine. “You believe you’re saving our people, but you’re making them weak.”

She marches out of the throne room and down the hall, towards the balcony from which Satine usually addresses her people. The other Death Watch warriors follow her, threatening Satine’s guards at blasterpoint when they try to stop her. Satine follows behind, not sure what else to do. The situation is getting so far out of hand she can only try to limit the damage now, which means not inciting actual violence.

When she ventures onto the balcony, she can see a crowd has formed in the square outside, murmuring in unrest; not only the rest of Death Watch, brought along by Bo-Katan, but many of Satine’s people as well, drawn by curiosity or fear.

Bo-Katan looks out over the crowd. “People of Sundari,” she calls out. The crowd turns immediately to face her, falling silent. “I am Bo-Katan Kryze. To my fellow warriors, I am Mand’alor. In ages past, to be Mandalorian meant to be a warrior. To follow the Resol’nare. The New Mandalorian government has taken that from our people, along with our armor and weaponry. And so now, with war raging across the galaxy, we are left helpless. Have no fear! We are not here to fight you. We are here to ask you to fight for yourselves! Our ancestors believed that conflict brought us closer to the divine, that strife teaches us who we truly are. If any of you here still believe that, join us! The galactic civil war does not care about Mandalore’s neutrality, and war will come to us sooner or later. We will not sit passively and wait to be attacked. We will stand and fight for Mandalore! Any Mandalorian here who wants to help, come to the spaceport today, and we will welcome you! Oya Manda²!”

“Oya Manda!” the crowd roars back at her, rocking Satine back a step. Not everyone in the crowd joined in, but many did.

She blinks in astonishment as several people approach the Death Watch warriors in the square, apparently eager to join up. Bo-Katan turns back to her, her eyes lit with triumph. “Not as many pacifists as you thought, are there, sister?”

She leaves the balcony without waiting for a reply. Satine stares mutely down at her people and feels a chill running down her spine. Before her mind’s eye, she sees her father’s lifeless face, fallen to a blaster bolt during the Great Clan Wars. She has tried so, so hard, all her life, to protect her people from war since then.

But she can’t protect those who refuse to let her.

Glossary

1. Su cuy’gar: hello (lit. you’re still alive) [↑]
2. Oya Manda: Expression of Mandalorian solidarity and perpetuity [↑]

Chapter Text

I know the morning’s close, although this night just goes and goes
Be my nightfire while I close my eyes
          Nightfire – Juniper Vale

Back on the Negotiator, Cody follows Obi-Wan to his quarters. The general hasn’t spoken much to anyone. Cody’s waiting to be dismissed, really, but as that hasn’t happened yet, he’ll stick with him and try to keep him from spiraling. He’d doesn’t want to find Obi-Wan talking to himself in his quarters again.

Obi-Wan sinks down into a chair, staring at nothing. Cody hesitates, then busies himself making tea for him. “Never seen you this quiet during a negotiation, sir,” he tries, as casually as he can manage, while he selects leaves to steep. He decides on something herbal and lightly spiced.

Obi-Wan scoffs. “That could hardly be called a negotiation.” He glances at Cody. “I’m sorry I disappointed you, Cody. It was just… seeing her…”

Cody freezes for a moment, before turning to face him fully. “None of that was your fault, sir. She was always going to stick to her blasters. Or, well. The opposite.”

Obi-Wan tries to smile, then suddenly deflates. His shoulders round and he buries his head in his hands. “She’s alive.”

Cody swallows. He wants to comm the bridge and tell them to go far away from Mandalore, but that’s not fair. Obi-Wan loves Satine. Cody has no right to get in between them. “Do you…” He clears his throat. “Do you want to go back to the surface? Talk to her?” He focuses on pouring the tea into a cup to keep himself from doing something untoward, like hugging Obi-Wan.

“No.” Obi-Wan’s voice sounds rough. “She’s alive. She may lose her throne, but Bo-Katan won’t harm her. Mandalore will be protected, and Satine with it. I… the further away I am, the safer she is, really.” He lifts his head. “This is for the best. I’m only sorry we couldn’t truly unify the Mandalorians.”

“Like I said, sir,” Cody says, setting down the steaming cup in front of Obi-Wan, “she was never going to compromise. No use beating a dead fathier.”

Obi-Wan nods, though he clearly doesn’t believe it. He takes the tea, blows on it and takes a sip, offering a small smile to Cody. “This is lovely. Thank you.”

While Cody is settling into his own chair, he gets a text message on his comm. “Rex says Bo-Katan is gathering a lot of followers. She’s told them to meet up at the spaceport. I think that means she’s going to fight with us.”

“We’ll wait for her to contact us, then,” Obi-Wan seems to be regaining his composure as he sips from his cup. “I’d prefer her to stay here and defend Mandalore for now. When the time comes to confront Darth Sidious, however…”

“We may need as many able-bodied fighters as we can get,” Cody finishes. “And beskar armor won’t hurt when fighting a lightsaber user.”

“No. Where are we on the timeline?”

Cody checks his datapad. “Well, we’ve prevented the battles on Naboo and Umbara. Mon Cala we’ve left to the Republic to sort out. Aayla is on her way to Kadavo help deal with the Zygerrians, where she should find Plo Koon, if our anonymous tip is believed by the Jedi Council. The twins are off to Onderon. Rex got Boba out of prison and Knight Taraay is there undercover to watch for any other prison breaks. We just dealt with Mandalore… That’s all of the things you gave me for this point in time.”

“Yes. I’ve been trying to gather more during meditation, but this is such a confusing point in time, with so many things happening at once.” Obi-Wan shifts in his seat. “Hopefully once Aayla makes contact, Plo will agree to go to Korriban for us.”

Cody nods. “I’m sure he will, and if not, I’ll get Wolffe to lobby for us. Vos and Ventress are still investigating Damask on Muunilinst – apparently he was a terrible person, which is no surprise – but they have nothing to tie him to Palpatine yet. They’re requesting a slicer to help out. Something about the Banking Clan.”

“Hm. Quinlan isn’t a bad slicer, so he must need someone even better.” Obi-Wan strokes his beard. “I have an idea for that, but I’ll have to talk to Anakin.” He meets Cody’s eyes. “How are our compatriots doing?”

“We’ve got eight Knights and two Masters, plus their companies of clone troopers, going around freeing droids. So far, they’ve had only one experience similar to the one Skywalker had, where the droids wouldn’t surrender, but we’ve only got them taking on small targets now, and there were no casualties this time.”

“That’s a relief.”

Cody looks over the holonews items he’s gathered on his data pad. “I think you’ve been spotted in public a few times too many. There’s a warrant out on your arrest on Coruscant now, even as you’re officially also presumed dead. It’s not a big problem when they have no way to enforce it. Same for General Skywalker and the others. I noticed something on the list of missing Jedi, by the way. One of them isn’t part of our movement, but the Republic has him listed as MIA with the rest of you. Pong Krell?”

Obi-Wan grimaces. “Ah. He’s… nothing to worry about.”

Cody raises his eyebrows. “No?”

Obi-Wan shrugs helplessly. “He… was starting to Fall. I tried to reason with him, draw out the Darkness, but…”

So that’s where Obi-Wan disappeared to, a few months ago. Cody knew something bad had happened. “He attacked you?”

“I couldn’t… I don’t know him like I do some of the others. If I knew why he was turning to the Dark, I might have been able to help, but as it was…” Obi-Wan is getting that haunted look again.

“You had a right to defend yourself, sir,” Cody assures him. Kriff it. He wanted to distract his general from Mandalore, but not by bringing up something equally upsetting.

Obi-Wan folds his hands around his teacup. “I shouldn’t have approached him myself. If I’d taken the time to find someone who knew him better…” He shakes his head.

Cody shakes his head. “Some people aren’t willing to listen to anyone, General.” He casts around for a better topic. “Have you heard back from Aldivy yet?”

“Ah, yes, the agriworld you wanted for food supply. They’ve ratified the treaty.” Obi-Wan is slowly uncurling again as he drains his cup. Good tea and successful negotiations always perk him up.

“I’ll add it to my list of networked planets. Also, General Shaak Ti tells me all clones on Kamino are chip-free and the cure for our rapid aging is showing promise. All clones sent back for reconditioning are being de-chipped on arrival.”

“That’s very good news. We’re gaining traction,” Obi-Wan muses.

“We certainly are. Our clone liberation group now has fifteen Jedi in it and gaining more every week.”

“Really?”

Cody smiles, knowing he’s got his general well and truly distracted now from Mandalore and Falling Jedi. “From the reports I’m getting, many Jedi are relieved to join us. You weren’t the only one with moral objections to the war and to… well, us.”

“To using you,” Obi-Wan corrects.

Cody inclines his head in acknowledgment. He’s not quite sure how to respond, but he doesn’t get the chance. His comm goes off, and it’s the emergency channel.

“Commander Cody here, go ahead,” he says, straightening in his seat. He can see Obi-Wan doing the same.

Knight Barriss Offee’s voice comes through. “Commander, is Master Kenobi with you? We have a problem.”

“I’m here, Barriss, go ahead,” Obi-Wan says.

Cody, in the meantime, is wracking his brain trying to remember where Barriss is, at the moment. Obi-Wan insisted on recruiting her, specifically, and putting her out of the way of any fighting. She’s currently helping with the relocation of clones and droids who want out of the war.

Barriss doesn’t leave him wondering long. “I’m currently on Dennogra, Master, and the planetary government has issued a statement saying they no longer consider themselves part of the CIS.”

“What?” Cody exchanges a look with Obi-Wan. “Why?”

“I can send you the statement, but the gist of it is they now believe the CIS is a terrorist organization who lured them with false promises of safety and equality, and they no longer consider it a legitimate government.”

“That’s very bold,” Obi-Wan says, frowning. “They’re right in CIS controlled space.”

“That’s the problem, Master. Count Dooku has personally arrived three hours ago and blockaded the planet.” Barriss sounds like she’s hanging on to her calm by her fingernails. “We’re trapped, Master Kenobi. I’ve got thirty clones and almost a hundred droids with me and we have no way off the planet.”

Obi-Wan looks at Cody. “Who is closest?”

Cody is checking his datapad already. “I think we are, sir. At least in terms of who is able to act. We’ve got a few undercover Jedi who are closer, but they have no troops or ships large enough to make a difference. But even we are at least 30 hours out.”

“Dooku cannot get his hands on any clones or droids,” Obi-Wan says. “He mustn’t find out how we’re taking both sides’ armies off the table. Not yet. Barriss, can you find a place for all of you to hide in case he invades, and wait it out?”

Barriss lets out a shuddering breath. “I’ll try, Master. But… what do we do if we’re found?”

Obi-Wan shuts his eyes tightly, but his voice remains calm. “Whatever you can to keep him from finding out about the clones, especially. Distract him by all means necessary. I’d rather have him finding the droids than the clones if you have no other option.”

There is a pause, before Barriss says, “Any means necessary. I understand, Master.”

On their way to Dennogra, they read the statement. Barriss gave them a good summary, but failed to notify them that Dennogra’s government has denounced both the CIS and the Republic. Cody realizes uncomfortably that they may have triggered this – Dennogra is one of the planets in their network, providing tech they need, such as chips and battery packs, in exchange for droids to help them with their dwindling production. The planet is heavily industrialized, but rife with crime, and more and more people have been leaving it for an easier life elsewhere. They’ve been very grateful to join a network of trade agreements that stands completely separate from the CIS and the Republic.

By the time they arrive, Dooku and the blockade are gone, but there is a network of satellites and droid starfighters around the planet, checking all ships coming and going. Their droid virus takes care of that, and Cody takes a LAAT/i close to Barriss’s last known location. He tries to insist Obi-Wan stay on the Negotiator, but of course the general won’t hear of it.

Barriss seems to have chosen a rundown city district as a hiding place. It’s full of derelict buildings and crumbling roads, and weeds are already starting to creep in. She’s nowhere to be found, and she’s not responding on the comm. Cody sends out men to check the dilapidated buildings, and ten minutes later Waxer comes back with a small group of clones.

“Report,” Cody demands. “Where is Knight Offee?”

“Lieutenant Snag, Commander,” one of the clones introduces himself. “Knight Offee is… gone. She’s with Count Dooku.”

Obi-Wan sucks in a breath. “What happened?”

“Count Dooku invaded. Knight Offee had us scout a location to hide, and we found this,” Snag gestures behind him, “abandoned factory, which seemed like a good place for the droids not to stand out too much. Dooku dealt with the government here with prejudice. I don’t think he left anyone alive. But then he seemed to just… zero in on us. We don’t know how.”

“The Force, most likely,” Obi-Wan says. “He may have felt Barriss or received a warning.”

“Knight Offee told us to keep hiding, that she didn’t want us to try and fight him. And then she went out and faced him herself.”

“She tried to fight Dooku alone?” Cody asks incredulously.

Snag shrugs helplessly. “She didn’t fight him, sir. She just went up to him and talked to him. And then he left and took her with him. He didn’t even look for us.”

That does not sound good. Cody looks at Obi-Wan, whose gaze is unfocused, which Cody recognizes as him listening to the Force. “General?”

Obi-Wan clenches his teeth. “I… believe she may have switched sides, Commander.” A window in the factory cracks out of nowhere.

Cody is uncomfortably reminded of Skywalker’s lack of control, and the ship shaking when he got angry. “Sir?” He takes Obi-Wan by the shoulder and leads him a few paces away. If his general is about to lose it, it won’t do for the men to overhear it. “You all right?”

“I’d like to believe she’s doing what I asked, keeping him away from your brothers, but… the Force seems to be saying otherwise. What is the point of all of this if I can’t ever save them, Cody?” Obi-Wan covers his face with his hands. “I keep trying and it’s like nothing I do matters!”

Cody's heart aches. His hand tightens on Obi-Wan's shoulder automatically. “It matters, General. Obi-Wan.”

The rare use of his first name has Obi-Wan lifting his head and meeting Cody’s eyes.

“I won’t pretend this isn’t a disaster, but we have backup plans for a reason. We’ve already done so much. Don’t focus only on what goes wrong.” Cody glances over his shoulder at the troops behind him. “Don’t give up now. They still need us.”

Obi-Wan stares at him for a long moment. Then he sighs and nods. “You’re right, of course. But we’ll have to keep a close eye on Dooku’s movements, and warn our operatives on Coruscant. Barriss may yet surprise me and keep our secrets…”

“But we need to operate as if we’re compromised,” Cody finishes. “Do we need to speed up our plans?”

Obi-Wan hesitates, then shakes his head. “Not yet. We may still have time to gather the evidence we need.”

On the way back to the Negotiator, Cody’s datapad chimes. He has set an alert for news on key political figures, and there’s a notice for a news item on the Queen of Alderaan. “General? Queen Breha has published a statement. She talks about the allegations against Senator Amidala, proclaiming shock and disbelief. It reads a little awkwardly to me. Not quite the usual polished PR office stuff.”

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow. “Let me see.”

Cody hands over the pad, and watches him skim the speech.

“You’re correct. It’s a cypher, the same one I used in my letter to Bail. Quite a risk she’s taking. We’ve never used a public message to communicate like this.” He takes some time to decrypt the statement. “She couldn’t put much information in a message this short, but she says Padmé is safe, and there’s coordinates. I’m assuming that’s where we can find Padmé.” He’s brightening a little at this news. “Anakin will be very pleased.”

“He’ll want to run off and get her himself,” Cody reminds him. They left Skywalker handling the Mandalore situation, and that still needs settling down; they can’t afford any shenanigans from him at this point.

“Yes, well, it’s close to Kadavo, which means Aayla is much better positioned to pick her up. I’ll try to rein him in.”

Cody wonders if he really believes logic will help him in that endeavor. “Good luck with that, sir.”

“Cody.” Obi-Wan looks sideways at him.

“Sir?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything you do.” Obi-Wan gives him a true smile, not the one he gives the politicians.

Cody ducks his head and tries to temper the warm glow in his chest.

Chapter Text

I’m rising up my heart is pounding
Ready or not the clock is counting down
This is my moment
         Champion – Neoni & Burnboy

Knight Skywalker and Senator Amidala are kissing. It's not a chaste kiss. Her arms are wound around his neck, his are around her waist, and they are utterly absorbed in each other as if the rest of the world has disappeared for them. Aayla catches herself staring, then forces herself to turn away. No one else around seems all that surprised.

It’s not the kissing, so much. With a Master like Quinlan, Aayla isn’t easily shocked by public displays of affection, even from a Jedi Master. It’s more that Skywalker’s relief, happiness and love are leaking into the space around him as if he’s hardly bothering to shield them. For a Jedi, it’s like watching someone take their clothes off in public.

She shares a glance with Bly, who is looking perturbed as well, even though he can’t feel what’s happening in the Force. For a moment, she can’t help imagining what it would be like to kiss Bly like that. She feels her face heat and is glad that her coloring won’t show it much. And more importantly: that Bly can’t feel her emotions in the Force.

Master Kenobi shakes his head at the kissing pair, before turning to Aayla. “Thank you for bringing the senator, Knight Secura. Was there any trouble?”

Aayla shakes her head. “No, Master. Well, there is a bounty out on Senator Amidala now in the Core. But Queen Breha has kept the senator well hidden, and we weren’t followed.”

“I’m glad.” He nods over to where Commander Cody is waiting. “Shall we discuss your other mission?”

They lead her and Commander Bly to a conference room, leaving the reunion in shuttle bay behind.

“Were you successful?” Commander Cody asks, once they’re in private.

“The Zygerrians did capture the Togruta colonists of Kiros, and they were indeed taken to Kadavo, exactly as you said they would be, Master Kenobi. We met Master Koon and the 104^th there.” Aayla reports. “Once we joined forces, we were able to subdue the Zygerrians.” She looks at Bly, prompting him to take over.

Bly straightens. “We got there a little early, or rather, General Koon and the 104^th got there later than you predicted, General Kenobi. We took the opportunity to infiltrate the slave processing facility. When the 104^th arrived, the Zygerrians were distracted dealing with them, and we were able to free the Togruta slaves with minimal casualties. It was a successful operation, sirs.”

Commander Cody looks grim. “But the 104^th is not with you. What happened?”

“Master Koon was absolutely on our side after our explanation, he made that very clear. And they were working hard to get all the chips out of the 104^th when we left. But Master Koon and Commander Wolffe both felt that they owed it to the freed slaves to help them get home and settled, and they wanted to report their success to the Council. After that they’ll cut contact and leave for Korriban immediately.”

Master Kenobi shares a glance with Commander Cody. The commander is scowling. “If they let anything slip to the Council, we’ve got a problem. And we’re running out of time.”

Master Kenobi sighs. “Plo is not a man who takes unnecessary risks, but I wish he’d discussed it with us first.”

Aayla does not like being caught between two stubborn Jedi Council members. She glances at Bly for help.

He jumps in. “Sirs, Commander Wolffe was adamant that he and all his men understand the importance of operational security. And Master Koon said he’d use his position in the Council to try and make sure they weren’t asked to return to Coruscant anytime soon, so no one will report them as missing for a while.”

Commander Cody relaxes a little. Aayla smiles at Bly gratefully, before catching herself and straightening her face.

Master Kenobi leans back in his chair, fist against his mouth. “I’ll need to brief them further on Korriban and what to expect.”

“Did you give them our secure comm channel and encryption codes?” Commander Cody asks.

Bly nods. “Yes, sir. They’re implementing the new security and should be available to contact anytime now.”

“Master Koon said he’d be in touch with you soon to discuss the Korriban mission,” Aayla adds.

“All right. Thank you, Aayla, Commander Bly.” Master Kenobi nods at them both. “Would you be opposed to another errand? It wouldn’t require your whole battalion, just a small team.”

“Of course,” Aayla says. “What do you need?”

“Master!” Aayla announces herself out loud and telepathically at the same time, hammering on the side of the ship. She ignores Bly rolling his eyes at her.

She can feel Quinlan startle and acknowledge her, but it takes some time before he exits his ship to come meet her. When he does, he’s distinctly disheveled, still doing up his robes, dreadlocks askew. “Aayla! I didn’t know they were sending you.” He embraces her once he’s halfway decent.

Behind him, Asajj Ventress makes her way down the ramp, also straightening her clothes.

Aayla looks from her to her Master, and gives him a disapproving frown.

“What?” Quinlan spreads his hands with a grin. “There’s nothing in the Jedi Code against blowing off a little steam.”

Ventress gives her an unsettling smile. “Worried I’m corrupting your former Master, little Jedi?”

Aayla gives her a cool look. “I think my Master corrupts himself too regularly for you to have any impact.” She turns back to Quinlan. “But a Sith, Master? I thought you had better standards.”

“Not a Sith anymore,” he reminds her.

“Never fully a Sith to begin with,” Ventress cuts in. “I was only an acolyte.” She shrugs. “Either way, our sex life is none of your business. Why are you here?”

“We come bearing gifts,” Aayla says, and turns to the two droids behind her.

R2-D2 rolls forward and beeps at Quinlan. Aayla doesn’t understand binary, but she can catch the disparaging tone just fine, and completely agrees. The second droid stays quiet, and it’s this one that catches Quinlan’s attention.

“What is a tac droid doing here?”

The droid moves forward as if presenting itself for inspection. “I have been freed from my oppressors. Now I want to help fight them.” In its flat, mild voice, the statement sounds more like a question.

Quinlan folds his arms. “I thought you guys were rebuilding cities and learning to knit.”

“Some of us want peace,” the droid intones. “Some of us want to fight.”

Quinlan looks at Aayla. “How do we know if they can be trusted?”

It’s R2-D2 who beeps insistently and spins his dome.

“I don’t speak binary,” Quinlan tells him.

R2-D2 makes a sound as if blowing a raspberry at him.

Aayla shrugs. “Apparently, droids like Artoo here are vouching for them. This tac droid leads a legion of like-minded B1’s and droidekas.”

“And why do we need battle droids?” Ventress inquires. “We’re trying to investigate quietly, not take Harnaidan by force.”

Bly is the one to respond, having hung back until now. “Commander Cody tells us you haven’t found anything of note about this Hego Damask, and that you’re hoping to get into the Banking Clan division here on Muunilinst to get more information. That’s where these two come in. Artoo, here, is an excellent slicer, and can help you get into the memory banks. The battle droids will be able to provide a distraction. I hear the Banking Clan’s security is trigger happy.”

Quinlan rocks back on his heels. “You want us to smuggle an astromech into the Banking Clan tower?” He quirks a smile at the rude noise he gets from R2-D2 in return. “Sounds like fun.”

The tac droid says, “We will be available for battle in four hours. We are currently in our scheduled down time.”

Ventress curls a lip. “Down time for droids. Now I’ve seen everything. Can’t you reschedule?”

“As this is not an emergency, there is no need to interrupt our craft circle,” the droid informs her primly.

“So, how’s Commander Bly?” Quinlan asks, while waiting for R2-D2 to slice into the lock of a backdoor to the Banking Clan tower. He has to raise his voice to be heard over the sirens warning Harnaidan’s citizens to evacuate their towers and find safety. The droids seem to be managing their distraction well, under Bly’s oversight.

Aayla throws her former Master a withering look. “This is not the time, Master.”

“Why not? We’re waiting anyway.” He grins innocently. “I’m only asking how he’s doing.”

“You’re incorrigible,” she mutters. “He’s wonderful, as usual. Very competent.”

“Competent,” Ventress drawls. “Is that the standard by which Jedi measure their lovers?”

Aayla splutters, “he’s not my – he’s under my command! I would never!” She wills the heat away from her face. She can look, but she certainly won’t touch until she can be sure Bly is free to make his own decisions.

Ventress smiles knowingly, but thankfully R2-D2 takes that moment to draw their attention to the now open door with a shrill beep.

“Thank you, Artoo,” Aayla says, brushing past the other two with dignity.

Quinlan enters after her, wrapping himself and the droid in a strong Force suggestion not to be noticed. Aayla follows suit, and she can feel Ventress doing the same. Aayla is a bit unsettled by her Dark version of the technique. It’s as if she’s wrapped herself in cold shadows.

They stay out of the main corridors, hanging back from the Muuns rushing by on their way out. Finding their way into a minor ground floor office, R2-D2 plugs himself into the databank and starts interfacing. After a moment, he throws up a map on one of the holoscreens, highlighting an area near the top of the tower.

They study it. “That’s where we need to go to get the right access?” Quinlan asks to confirm.

The droid beeps something that sounds like agreement and heads out of the office, preceding them to the elevators. He plugs in again there, opening a set of elevators doors. They peer up into the dark elevator shaft.

“Can you bring an elevator to us?” Aayla asks R2-D2.

He spins his dome and wiggles on his struts.

“I guess that’s a no. Elevators likely shut down in an emergency,” Quinlan says. “We can–”

“Hey! What are you doing here?” A Muun in uniform is approaching them, two others following along in her wake. They’re drawing blasters; Aayla assumes this is the Banking Clan’s security, who were supposed to be distracted.

“I knew this was going too smoothly,” Ventress says, drawing her lightsabers.

Quinlan holds up a hand to stop her and then circles two fingers at the Muuns. “You don’t want to stop us. You want to go help with the evacuation.”

The Muuns hesitate, one of them already turning away. Then the front guard blinks and says, “What? No, I definitely want to stop you.” She trains her blaster on Quinlan. “You first, whatever you are. Put your weapons on the floor. If you come quietly, the magistrate will take this into account during your sentencing, but we take robbery very seriously here.”

Ventress ignites her blades, sending all three Muuns stumbling back. One of them activates his comm and says, “Back up! We need back up in corridor One Cresh Trill!”

“Great,” Aayla sighs, and takes out her own lightsaber to deflect the blaster bolts that follow.

Ventress bears down on the Muuns like a whirlwind. Quinlan holds out his hand and uses the Force to tear the blasters from the Muuns’ grips while they’re distracted backing away from her. At the last minute, she deactivates her lightsabers and uses the hilts to knock out one Muun after another, now that they’re disarmed.

Quinlan gives her a questioning look as he kneels down to check their vital signs.

Ventress shrugs. “I didn’t want to deal with your whining about nonlethal action.”

Aayla motions them back to the elevator shaft. “We need to hurry, before their backup gets here.”

She goes first, using Force assisted jumps from one side of the shaft to the other to make her way up. She can hear the other two following, and R2-D2 flies past her halfway up the shaft, using his thrusters. He waits for them near the top, where he has opened another pair of elevator doors for them to exit through. As soon as the last of them is out of the shaft, he closes both sets of doors.

On this floor, all is silent except for the alarm. Any occupants have long since gone down to evacuate. Aayla has to admire the Muuns’ efficiency.

“Hopefully, whatever backup comes won’t be able to tell where we’ve gone,” she mutters. “Where to next, Artoo?”

The droid leads them down the corridor and into a lavish office at the end, with an amazing view through the transparisteel windows out onto the Muunilinst capital. From here, they can see the improvised droid battalion marching through Harnaiden towards the tower, while the droidekas shield them from the blaster fire of the city’s defense force. Aayla hopes that no one has noticed that there is hardly any damage being done. The droids are carefully targeting only those buildings capable of withstanding a few blasts, and never the same one for too long. Citizens are left alone to flee, and the defense force is either avoided or stunned.

R2-D2 has plugged into another databank, and this time it’s taking a lot longer for him to break whatever encryption he’s running into. Knight Skywalker was adamant the astromech is up to this task, and Aayla hopes he’s right. Quinlan is trying to help the droid along, but quickly gives up, as he can’t keep up with R2-D2’s speed.

There’s a noise like something thumping against the building right outside. Aayla and Ventress exchange a look and head to the window. Just as they reach it, a speeder rises to hover outside the window, with six Muuns in guard uniforms. Five train blasters on the window, the sixth holds a blaster cannon.

“Down!” Ventress snaps, and the three off them drop to the ground as the cannon fires, breaking the transparisteel.

Aayla throws up her hands to shield her face. The adrenaline keeps her from feeling it, but when she brings her arms back down they’re covered in bloody scrapes.

Immediately the office is inundated with blaster fire. Aayla and Ventress deflect the plasma bolts back to the speeder, keeping R2-D2 covered. Quinlan uses the Force to pull a chair towards himself and hurls it out the window, forcing the speeder to dodge, before drawing his own saber. “Any time now, Artoo,” he pants.

The droid beeps frantically, spinning his dome. Clearly the security at this level is giving him more trouble than expected.

The cannon fires again. Aayla braces herself and uses her saber to lob the bolt back at the speeder. She hits the front, sending it spinning out of control and losing height. The three of them take a relieved breath, though Aayla finds her breath shorter than she likes, her chest twinging. She shouldn’t be winded so quickly.

“Robbers!” A Muun in an elegant and ornate green robe stands in the doorway, most likely the owner of this office, with eight others in security uniforms arranged behind him. “I knew it. It was statistically unlikely for an actual attack to cause so little collateral damage. The droids are merely a distraction.” He turns to the guards. “Seize them.”

Ventress thrusts out a hand, pushing the Muuns back several feet before they can bring up their blasters. As if he’d been expecting it, Quinlan leaps right into the middle of them, not drawing his lightsaber, but using unarmed Vaapad, flowing in between opponents in unpredictable patterns.

The Muuns lower their weapons, afraid to hit each other, and Aayla takes the opportunity to remove three of the blasters from their hands with a Force pull. Ventress inserts herself into the fight at Quinlan’s back, and knocks out one of the guards.

“Catch!” Quinlan yells, throwing something cylindrical at Aayla.

She snatches it out of the air, and realizes it’s a code cylinder, which he must have pickpocketed from the banker in the green robe during the fight. Aayla takes it to the databank and slots it in. R2-D2 beeps at her as the security he’s been trying to crack unravels immediately. He starts downloading information at record speed, so she leaves the droid to it, turning back to the fight. When she moves to join it, she’s held back by a stitch in her side. She sees that Quinlan and Ventress have incapacitated two other guards, which has opened up the fight enough that one draws his blaster again.

“We’re wasting time,” Ventress says. “Vos, get down!”

Quinlan drops to the floor immediately as Ventress throws out her hand with a strong Force push, instantly knocking the last two guards against the wall. They slump down. Aayla tries to catch her breath.

The only one left standing is the banker, who has backed up down the hallway. “So this is what has become of the missing Jedi? Not only deserting, but turning to theft? You won’t get away with this,” he sneers. “Backup is already on the way. If you kill me, your sentence will be that much worse.”

Quinlan is disabling the guards’ blasters, ignoring the Muun.

Ventress walks back into the office. “Are we done yet?”

R2-D2 trills and retracts his arm from the databank.

“Thank the Force,” Aayla breathes, moving over to the broken window. “The security speeder is gone,” she reports. Her chest still aches with the exertion, but she pushes it aside.

“That’s our exit, then,” Ventress replies. She glances over her shoulder at Quinlan. “Coming?”

Quinlan takes a running start and jumps out the window first, whooping as he goes. Aayla and Ventress roll their eyes at each other – and Aayla can’t quite believe she’s having a moment of shared exasperation for her stupid Master with Ventress, of all people – and follow him down, controlling and cushioning their fall with the Force. R2-D2 brings up the rear, his thrusters making for a slower descent.

Aayla stumbles upon landing. She feels a little lightheaded.

“Wait.” Quinlan takes Aayla by her left arm and carefully lifts it up. “What is that? Aayla…”

She glances down at her side. “Oh,” she says faintly at seeing the shard of transparisteel between her ribs, hidden under her left arm. Jolted by the landing, blood is now beginning to seep down her side, which must have alerted Quinlan. Now that the adrenaline is fading, she can feel it, and she notices the edges of her vision beginning to darken.

“Bly is going to be so upset with me,” she manages. Then the world goes black.

Chapter Text

You can't leave this life without being haunted
Somewhere between what you got and what you wanted
        Haunted – The Rescues

Plo Koon is annoyed with himself. He’s known for years now that the Sith are not extinct. Why did he not brush up more on his Ur-Kittât? It was only to be expected that knowledge of the language would become useful at some point.

“Any luck, sir?” Commander Wolffe asks, seeing that he is no longer focused on the datapad in front of him.

“The going is not easy,” Plo admits, releasing his annoyance into the Force. “Handwritten flimsi in a language that I am not fluent in, copied onto a datapad and transmitted via highly secure comms… I’m surprised I can make anything out at all.” He straightens. “I have been able to ascertain that Ventress’s translation was incomplete, however. There is some key information here that she missed.”

A muscle twitches in Wolffe’s jaw. “Deliberate, do you think, General?”

“No.” It’s surprising, but Ventress seems to have done her best. “I believe she was merely coping with some of the same difficulties I am. Fortunately, my knowledge of Ur-Kittât seems to complement hers, and I have been able to add to her translation.” Plo rises and looks out of the viewport, taking in the view of the dusty red planet below. “Darth Plagueis’s original experiments were not done on Korriban, but a planet I think translates to Sojourn. They mostly failed, and were… released, I believe, although I’m not sure what he means by it. Released into the Force, perhaps. This part is unclear to me. However, I do know he wanted to preserve the record of his experiments on Korriban, as a legacy.”

Wolffe takes this in. “Very well, sir, but does he say where?”

“In one of the tombs in what he calls the Valley of the Sleeping Kings, known to us as the Valley of the Dark Lords.” Plo indicates the valley on the map. “When Master Kenobi and I discussed this mission, he warned me of the strength of the Dark side, there.”

“Sounds promising,” Wolffe says drily.

Walking into the Vally of the Dark Lords is… unpleasant. Plo has to fortify his shields to ignore the pull of the Dark side here. Wolffe strides silently at his side, the Wolfpack squad at their backs. He can feel their tension. The clones aren’t Force sensitive, but even so, they seem to pick up something on this planet.

Plo rather wishes he’d left them behind after all, though he knows Wolffe would argued until he was blue in the face to come. And with Wolffe coming along, he prefers his commander to have support, and so the other men are with them. Still, if anything happens to them here, he’ll have a hard time forgiving himself.

Plo acknowledges he’s dwelling on his attachment to his men, and releases the anxiety into the Force on his next breath. The decision is made, now they must make the best of it. Whatever must happen, will happen.

He takes in the broken, tumble-down architecture. The writings of Darth Plagueis mentioned the tomb of Hakagram Graush, so he lets the Force lead them in the right direction, and then finds the right tomb by deciphering the faded runes. It is, of course, sealed. Darth Plagueis wouldn’t have wanted just anyone to enter.

“Shall we use the explosives, sir?” Wolffe is eyeing the tomb warily. “Or is that going to wake something up?”

Plo tests the feel of the tomb in the Force. “I don’t believe it will, Commander, but most likely it will not help us, either. It is meant to be opened with the Dark side.”

The men shift uneasily. Wolffe takes the information with more equanimity. “Then how are we getting it open, sir?”

Plo settles on the ground in front of the tomb’s entrance. “All Darkness flees before the Light. Give me some time.”

He hears his men settle into a defensive formation around him, but his eyes are already closed. Falling into the Force here is a dangerous exercise, and he takes care to first examine his motives and emotions and release anything negative, before he dives deeper. Only when he feels sure he is only touching the purest Light, does he reach out towards the tomb. This deep in the Force, the Dark spell on the tomb stands out like a black hole. It is tempting to try and burn it up, but Plo has learned that sometimes it is better not to fight Darkness. This spell wants to destroy, and its favorite target is Light. Luckily, Plo has an abundance of that, so he gives the spell something to chew on until it is, for lack of a better description, tired out.

He brings himself back to his physical body and rises. The tomb is open, but it won’t remain that way. “We can go in now,” he tells his men, “but we have only a few hours before it will seal behind us. We can’t delay.”

“Let me take point, sir,” Wolffe suggests.

Plo shakes his head. “You will not be able to sense any traps. I will go first.”

They enter the tomb cautiously, moving down a dark pathway. The Wolfpack turn on their helmet lights, but the tomb almost seems to swallow the light beams. Finally, the path widens into a larger space. Part of this chamber has collapsed, but the walls still show traces of ancient reliefs, although it’s difficult to make out what they depict. The tomb of Graush is in the center, shaped like a throne and gleaming with an odd, oily sheen. It exudes Darkness, and Plo worries for a moment that Graush may still have an impression in the Force powerful enough to oppose them. But the tomb remains silent and still.

He approaches it, feeling it out with his senses. “This has not been disturbed in a very long time. Plagueis must not have used to tomb itself. Search the chamber.”

The men fan out to explore.

“Over here,” Comet says after a few moments.
In a corner of the chamber, there is a large chest, clearly far more modern than its surroundings. Having seen it, it seems inconceivable they didn’t notice it immediately, but it’s hidden by shadows that don’t quite leave when the men shine their light on it.

Plo reaches out a hand to the chest, not quite touching it, to see whether there are any traps on it. The chest feels almost as Dark as Graush’s tomb, but that’s no surprise. It doesn’t seem to be protected by any spells, however, which makes Plo rather more wary of it than less. Why would Plagueis not have left more protection for whatever he left here?

There are more runes on the chest, easy to translate this time, and he reads them out loud:

“For my apprentice, Darth Sidious:
Your just reward.
Darth Plagueis.”

“This could be exactly what we need,” Sinker comments. “Does this seem a little too easy to anyone?”

“You had to say it, didn’t you?” Boost gripes.

“I agree, but there is only one way to find out what’s inside,” Plo says. “Stand back.”

The men fall back several paces, drawing blasters and training them on the chest.

“Go ahead, sir,” Wolffe says.

Plo opens the chest. There is an explosion of Darkness, momentarily blinding him. A whirlwind of talons and teeth streams out of the chest, immediately hooking into the flesh of his left shoulder, punching right through his robes. On instinct, he tries to push the thing off with his other hand and the Force, but it clasps tighter to him, oddly resistant to his Force push.

Then Wolffe crashes into him, knocking the creature off him. He gasps as he loses a chunk of flesh in the process, glad that his mask, at least, wasn’t targeted. The Dark thing whirls through the space, striking out at his men here and there, and they can barely fire on it for fear of hitting each other.

“Form up! Clear the line of fire!” Wolffe barks.

They back up towards each other. Plo draws his lightsaber, ignoring the burning pain in his shoulder, and strikes out when it passes them. There is an inhuman screech, but the creature doesn’t go down. With more distance, Plo can make out wings, perhaps some sort of raptor, but it’s too fast and too mired in Darkness to make out clearly. Boost clips it with a plasma bolt, and it screeches again, before it’s on him. Boost cries out, and Plo pulls the creature off and towards himself with the Force, intending to catch it on his lightsaber, but again he finds that it’s slippery in the Force. It pulls free of his hold and resumes its lightning-fast circling of the space.

“Boost!” Wolffe calls out.

“It only got my arm, Commander,” Boost gasps. “I’m good.”

He’s very far from good: even at a glance, Plo can see the armor on his right arm has been shredded, and blood is streaming out at an alarming rate. Plo’s own wounds are burning with a cold fire, and he knows that he is losing blood as well. But there’s no time to dwell on it, because the creature tries to attack Comet next. Plo pulls on it again with the Force, but still can’t quite catch a hold of it. He does manage to get it away from Comet and push it into a wall. This gives his men the opportunity to fire on it, which unfortunately doesn’t seem slow the creature down.

He closes his eyes, feeling the thing’s path through the Force. He can feel it fixate on Boost again, singling him out as a weaker target now that he’s wounded. Plo waits for the Force to tell him when to move… there! He leaps, trusting the Force to guide him true, and then he’s in front of Boost and the creature impales itself on his lightsaber.

There is another screech that is painful in the Force, before it goes limp, falling to the floor.

Boost breathes out a shaky breath. “Thanks, General. That is one ugly bird.”

“It is, indeed,” Plo says, looking the creature over. It’s almost as large as him. Now that it’s no longer shrouded in Darkness, it becomes easier to see that it is, in fact, some type of raptor, but all its features are grotesque and out of proportion: enormous bone white eyes, talons so large it would cut its own feet if it were to sit on a branch, a mouth full of needlelike teeth where one would expect a beak. It also looks half decomposed, feathers only covering part of its flesh. Even dead, it radiates Darkness.

He switches his focus to his wounded trooper, now tended to by Sinker. “How are you faring, Boost?”

“We need to get him to the medbay soon,” Sinker says. He’s removed the shredded armor from Boost’s arm and is applying a field bandage to stem the worst of the bleeding.

“I’ll be all right, sir,” Boost argues, but his voice is thready.

Plo hesitates, torn between hurrying back to their ship to get Boost to a medic, and finishing what they came for, which could save so many lives.

Wolffe is leaning over the chest. “There’s a book in here, General. Actual bound flimsi.”

“That may be what we came here to find.” Plo joins him at the chest and carefully reaches in to pick up the book. He keeps it well away from the blood from his shoulder now soaking his robes. He opens it to the first page. “It is, again, written in Ur-Kittât, and claims to be Darth Plagueis’s journal.” His wounds are tiring him, and he doesn’t have the focus to translate more. He closes the book and straightens. “I will study it further on the ship. Let’s move out.”

“What if there’s more to find?” Boost protests.

“There isn’t,” Plo reassures him, as the Force tells him this is true. “We have–” He breaks off at a sharp pain on the back of his right hand, the hand holding the book. Automatically, he shakes his hand, and an insectoid creature drops to the floor, many legged and with a scorpion-like tail. It scuttles away under the debris at the back of the chamber, trailing Darkness.

“General?” Wolffe asks him. He sounds farther away than he should be. “What was that?”

A chill is radiating out from the site of the sting, rapidly spreading throughout Plo’s body. He feels lightheaded. “Wolffe,” he forces out. “Another Dark creature. Secondary defense.” He needs to get the important information out, now, before he’s unable. “Poison. Get me to Kenobi. I will… healing trance…”

He can feel his legs folding under him. If he doesn’t act now, it will be too late. As quickly as he dares, he sinks into the Force, going into a deep Healing trance to filter out the Dark poison in his bloodstream. And then he holds it, which is all he can do until another Jedi lets him know it’s safe to come out.

Chapter Text

Bounded by the gravity
Of all the other dreams that I was given
Memories start calling me
I have to find my way to find my rhythm
        In the Kitchen – Mree

“We’ve got my general and Bly’s in a bacta tank. This information had better be worth it,” Wolffe growls.

They’re gathered in the Negotiator’s medbay. Rex winces when Belts, the medic on duty, slams a cupboard shut right next to Rex’s face, expressing how put out he is at the quantity of people crammed into his workplace.

There’s Cody and General Kenobi, of course, and General Skywalker, Ahsoka and Senator Amidala. But joining them is Vos, Ventress, Wolffe, and then there is Rex himself. They shouldn’t be holding this meeting in here, but Wolffe won’t leave his general and Vos and Bly have been trading off, watching over Aayla. This is the best they can manage.

Vos glances at Aayla, floating in the blue liquid. “That’s my former Padawan in there, so I’m inclined to agree with grumpy over there… but I have to admit, it was. We’ve got all the financial information on Damask, and it shows how he was funding Palpatine’s political campaigns since the start of his career. Better yet, it also shows he helped fund the beginning of the CIS and the creation of the clone army.”

“That is precisely what we were hoping for,” Kenobi says appreciatively. “Good work, Artoo.”

Ah, yes. How could Rex forget Skywalker’s foulmouthed little astromech? The droid beeps something in acknowledgement, and Rex can only be glad there’s no binary translator nearby.

“It really is Palpatine, then,” Skywalker says, sounding dazed.

Kenobi briefly squeezes his shoulder. “Yes, all evidence points that way. But we need the clincher: tying Damask to Darth Plagueis and Palpatine to Sidious."

"How is the translation of the journal coming?” Cody asks.

Ventress folds her arms. “Slowly, since I first wanted to make sure I wouldn’t end up like that.” She nods towards General Koon in his bacta tank, still in a deep healing trance but showing no improvement, according to the medics. “But I can happily tell you Plagueis names both himself and Palpatine outright, and not just with their Sith names. From what I’ve been able to skim, there’s even an explanation of what he calls the Grand Design, which is his whole plan for taking over the galaxy.”

Senator Amidala frowns. “It seems unlikely that he would write all this down for anyone to find, even if it was on a Sith planet and protected by murderous Darkside creatures.”

Kenobi hums. “For my apprentice: your just reward. Sith from the line of Bane historically kill their Masters when they’re ready to assume that power for themselves, so likely Damask’s death is down to Palpatine. I can see Plagueis as the type of person who might want to arrange some revenge from beyond the grave, if he suspected his apprentice was about to take his mantle.”

“You think he was hoping an enemy would find this?” Ahsoka asks.

Obi-Wan purses his lips. “Darth Plagueis is apparently the author of this… Grand Design, not Palpatine. He had plans within plans. The person most likely to find the chest on Korriban would be Palpatine himself. If he had found the tomb first, those creatures might very well have been meant kill him. And in case it was an enemy of Palpatine’s instead, Plagueis made sure to give away all Palpatine’s secrets.”

“Win-win for Plagueis,” Cody muses. “Makes some sense. Let’s hope it’s not some kind of trap.”

Wolffe gestures at the comatose General Koon. “It was.”

Cody grimaces. “Fair enough. Sorry, Wolffe.”

“I’ll keep working on the translation,” Ventress volunteers in her customary drawl. “Make sure there’s nothing in there that will come back to bite us.”

Wolffe sends her a glare at the pun, and she gives him a lazy smile in return.

Rex looks at Cody and General Kenobi. “So, do we have enough now? Are we going to go ahead and confront him?”

Cody tips his head. “Almost. It’s time to get the full Jedi Council in on this.”

“And I’d like to see if Bail Organa has found anything on his end,” Kenobi adds. “He’s been keeping watch in the senate, after all.”

Skywalker shrugs. “We won’t be able to keep our secrets much longer, anyway, with Barriss Offee running off with Count Dooku.”

“Dooku hasn’t made a move yet, though,” Ahsoka says. “Maybe Barriss didn’t tell him anything. Or she lied.”

Rex remembers Barriss and Ahsoka became friends during the war. If Barriss did change sides, that must sting. He nudges Ahsoka gently and feels her press back against his arm.

Kenobi is looking at his feet. “Perhaps, but let’s try and make sure it doesn’t matter either way. Bail is due to be on Alderaan soon for the Gingerbell Blossom Festival. Cody and I will go to Alderaan to contact him, and then comm the Council from there.”

Cody looks intently at Rex. “We’d like the rest of you to keep back, for now. If anything goes wrong for us on Alderaan, or the comm call is bugged or traced to us in spite of all our precautions, you’re our plan Besh.”

Rex takes this as an order to rein in his general and keep him from running off after Kenobi. He nods at Cody, just as Skywalker is starting to protest.

“Shouldn’t we be there? Ahsoka and I’ve been in this almost from the beginning.”

“And you’ll get to see it through,” Kenobi assures him. “We’re not going to make our move without letting you know.”

Skywalker draws another breath to speak, so Rex cuts in, “Sounds good, General. How are you going to land on Alderaan, though? You can’t exactly take the Negotiator without being arrested for desertion.”

“I’ve been in touch with Hondo Ohnaka,” Kenobi says. “He’s willing to trade us a ship with no affiliation with the GAR or the Order.”

Skywalker scoffs. “You can’t trust that pirate. He’d just as soon take your money and then sell you on top of it.”

Cody shrugs. “We can trust him to be greedy, and believe me, he’s getting the better part of this deal. We’re actually getting two ships off him.”

“Two? Why?” Amidala asks.

Kenobi lays a hand against General Koon’s bacta tank. “Because we’ll need to split up. Aayla will be fine in a few hours, but Plo isn’t improving. I don’t think this is ordinary poison.”

“It’s not,” Skywalker speaks up. “I can sense the Darkness from here.”

“Can you?” Kenobi looks startled. “I can’t.”

Skywalker shifts uncomfortably. “It feels the same way Korriban felt.”

“Hm.” Kenobi looks at General Koon again, his eyes unfocusing briefly as if trying to feel this for himself. He shakes himself out of it after a few moments. “Either way, none of us have any talent at healing something like this. Someone will need to take him to Coruscant and get him to the Halls of Healing in the temple. And for that, we need another incognito ship.”

“I can do it, Master,” Ahsoka immediately pipes up. Not unexpected; Rex knows that she’s very fond of General Koon.

“Uh, not alone, you can’t,” Skywalker says, straightening.

Ahsoka scowls. “Why not? I can handle it. And you can’t show your face on Coruscant, there’s a warrant out for your arrest.”

“And yours!”

“My face isn’t the one plastered all over the propaganda posters, Hero With No Fear!”

“Hey!” Belts steps in between them. “No fighting in my medbay. It’s bad enough you’re cluttering it up.”

“Anakin, surely Ahsoka can handle it.” Senator Amidala takes Skywalker’s arm. “She’s been on solo missions before, hasn’t she?”

“I’ll go with her,” Rex volunteers. “Someone needs to talk to Fox anyway, right, Cody?”

“And don’t think I’m going to stay behind. I’m staying with my general,” Wolffe says.

Cody nods. “That’s settled, then.”

Skywalker opens his mouth again. Before Rex can intervene, Kenobi puts a hand on his free shoulder. “Someone needs to stay behind and coordinate the efforts of everyone still working to free the clones and droids, Anakin. I wouldn’t trust that to anyone but you and Padmé. And Quinlan and Ventress will be busy sorting through our evidence.”

Skywalker looks like he wants to beam with pride and object at the same time. Amidala simply smiles at Kenobi. “Thank you, Obi-Wan, I appreciate that. We won’t let you down.”

“Gentlebeings, welcome, welcome!” Ohnaka has spread his arms wide, his customary grin on his face. He’s agreed to meet them at a spaceport on Columex, a trade planet in the CIS – and by now, part of Cody’s secret supply network.

“How is he welcoming us here? This isn’t even his place,” Ahsoka mutters to Rex.

Boba snorts on Rex’s other side, overhearing the comment.

Obviously, Rex hadn’t invited Boba on this trip. He’d expected Boba to want to remain on Mandalore, but he’s still tagging along with Rex for no discernable reason. Rex wasn’t particularly surprised to find him stowed away on their transport to Columex. Probably hoping for another chance at General Windu.

“Join me for a drink!” Ohnaka says, sidling up to Kenobi, which allows his Kowakian monkey-lizard to try to hop to Kenobi’s shoulder.

“No, thank you,” Kenobi says, freezing the monkey-lizard in midair with a casual gesture and floating it back to Ohnaka. “I don’t fancy waking up in a cell today.”

Ohnaka laughs. “Ah, but when I drugged you, my friend, you were the profit! Now you bring me profit of a different kind.”

Cody folds his arms. “Two Republic transport freighters in exchange for two non-affiliated ships. I don’t want to hear about these transports being used to infiltrate Republic trade outposts.”

“Commander!” Ohnaka exclaims in mock hurt, dramatically putting his hand to his chest. “Would I do such a thing?”

“He will absolutely do exactly that, the moment we turn our backs,” Rex mutters to Ahsoka.

“Sacrifices for the greater good, I guess,” she whispers back to him.

Cody tilts his helmet back, and Rex knows he just rolled his eyes. “The ships?”

“Right to business, eh? I can respect that.” Ohnaka leads them to another landing pad.

His men flank them. A clear threat display, belying Ohnaka’s affable demeanor. There are no weapons drawn, but everyone is tense.

On the way there, Ahsoka has to fend off the Kowakian monkey-lizard herself when it tries to steal her lightsaber. It hops to Rex next, who points his blaster at it, only for it to go for Rex’s persistent little shadow next.

“Get off me!” Boba snarls at it. Despite his best efforts, the creature scurries back to its owner with a knife in its claws. Boba lunges after it, but Rex holds him back by a shoulder.

“Leave it. We’ll get you a new knife.” He’s getting kind of used to riding herd on Boba’s constant chaotic aggression. Letting him have a knife is easier than trying to stop him from stealing someone else’s weapon.

“Here we are, my esteemed trading partners!” Ohnaka gestures expansively at the two ships parked on the landing pad.

One is a fairly standard Correlian CR90 corvette, only mildly modified. The other…

“That’s my ship!” Boba storms forward before Rex can get a hold of him. “You stole it, you shabuir¹!”

Ohnaka regards Boba with a placid grin. “Now, now. I salvaged it. You should thank me.”

“Why is Fett’s feral kid running around after you, again?” Wolffe asks Rex over private helmet comms.

Rex shrugs as he steps forward to go and deal with said feral kid’s latest misadventure. “We got him out of prison and now I seem to be stuck with him,” he replies, glad that Boba can’t listen in.

“You can’t sell us my ship,” Boba says, squaring off with Ohnaka. “You had no right to it in the first place.”

Ohnaka keeps smiling. “Of course, of course. I will be happy to return it to its rightful owner.”

Rex stops in his tracks, waiting to see where this is going.

“Let us discuss how you will reimburse me for the repair costs after it crashed, hm?” Ohnaka rubs the horns on his chin. “Let me think… I believe a Republic transport will just about cover it.”

“You–” Boba moves to draw a blaster – Rex sighs inwardly, he’s already removed two blasters from Boba’s person on the way to Columex – but Kenobi gets there first, putting a hand on Boba’s arm to stop him.

“That sounds entirely fair, Hondo, assuming that the contents of The Slave I have been left entirely undisturbed. It wouldn’t be a fair bargain, after all, if you had already taken your fee in another form.”

Boba looks up at Kenobi with a frown.

“Pah!” Hondo waves off the idea. “What would I find on a bounty hunter’s ship that has such value? Ration bars?”

“Perhaps you could remind me of the market value of beskar,” Kenobi suggests calmly.

Boba and Ohnaka both freeze.

Boba looks between Kenobi and the silent Ohnaka, his face darkening. “You took my father’s armor,” he growls. In his rage, his voice deepens until he sounds almost like an adult clone.

Ohnaka seems to realize he’s crossed a boundary, because he holds up his hands placatingly. “Now, let’s not be hasty here. I was… keeping it safe for you! I had no way of knowing you would be here today, did I?”

Kenobi folds his arms, no longer restraining Boba. “Yes, I’m sure this is just an honest misunderstanding, Boba. Hondo here will, of course, immediately send someone to fetch your father’s armor for you. And in exchange for its safe delivery, and the repair and return of The Slave I, we will give him the Republic transport he asked for. Agreed?”

Ohnaka grits his teeth through his ever-present smile, but directs two of his men to fetch Jango Fett’s armor. They wait in tense silence until it is delivered in a crate. Boba immediately opens it up to check whether it’s all there.

“No pieces missing, Boba?” Kenobi asks gently.

Boba stays silent, reverently putting the pieces back and locking the crate. He straightens and looks at Kenobi, for once without a scowl on his face. “It’s all here,” he says in a rough voice.

Rex steps up beside him, not sure what he aims to do. To his surprise, Boba wordlessly leans against him.

“Then it’s a deal.” Cody takes over to shake hands with Ohnaka and exchange lock codes for the ships.

They wait until all ships have been checked over by both parties and found to be intact, fueled and working. Cody takes a squad with him to make sure Ohnaka takes his transports and leaves without any tricks, while the rest of them wait by The Slave I.

Kenobi comes over to Rex and Boba. He kneels down to put himself level with the kid. “Did you plan to go to Coruscant with Rex, Boba?”

Boba has been hanging his head for minutes now, still leaning against Rex’s side as if he’s exhausted. His eyes are fixed on the crate with his father’s armor. “Are you going to make me go back?”

Kenobi looks up at Rex. “That depends. Captain, what do you think?”

The smart thing to do would be to send the kid back to the Negotiator, or at least hand him over to Cody to take to Alderaan. Boba on Coruscant and in the Jedi Temple is a recipe for disaster. But somehow, with Boba still pressing himself against Rex, he can’t get the words out. “It’s fine. He can come.” How he’s going to stop the little monster from attacking General Windu, he has no idea.

Kenobi smiles at him before turning back to Boba. “I’m afraid that, although you may have been reported dead, The Slave I may still be recognized on Coruscant and draw unwanted attention. Would you entrust your ship to me and Cody, for a little while? We’ll trade back as soon as we can.”

Boba hesitates, briefly glancing at Rex. “What about my dad’s armor?”

Rex shrugs. “You can either keep that with you, or give it to Cody for safekeeping. I can’t promise we’ll keep the same ship throughout our trip, though. We may have to trade it in to keep from being tracked.”

Cody speaks up from behind Rex, apparently having seen Ohnaka off without issue. “I’ll take care of the armor and the ship if you want me to, Boba. You’ll get it back. Haat, ijaat, haa’it².”

Boba bites his lip and nods. “Okay.”

Kenobi pats him on the shoulder and gets up. “Time to split up, then.”

Rex can feel Boba’s eyes on him as Cody grabs him in a quick embrace and slaps him on the back. “K’oyacyi, vod³,” Cody whispers to him.

Rex holds him tighter for a second. “K’oyacyi, “Kote⁴.”

Glossary

1. Shabuir: supposedly ‘jerk, but stronger’, but we all know this means motherfucker [↑]
2. Haat, ijaat, haa’it: truth, honor, vision – words used to seal a pact [↑]
3. K’oyacyi, vod: come back safely, brother, (lit. stay alive) [↑]
4. Kote: fanon Mando’a name for Cody, lit. Glory [↑]

Chapter Text

You can't fuck the future
If the future's fucking you
       Last Time – Zella Day

Probably not many people can name their headaches for the specific person causing them, but as soon as Mace lays eyes on the four beings waiting for him in the Halls of Healing, Mace knows that this headache is named Kenobi. There are shatterpoints all over the four of them, tied to each other in intricate ways.

Two clones, Padawan Tano, and a glaring Boba Fett. Mace just knows his day is only going to get worse from here.

The two clones salute him. “General Windu,” the one on the right says, drawing breath to say more when he is interrupted.

“Master Windu.” Healer Vokara Che steps out of a healing chamber to his right. “These four have brought Master Plo back to us.”

“The Temple Guard told me as much.” The Temple Guard told him this after catching them trying to sneak into the Temple with a kriffing bacta tank. Mace doesn’t move his gaze from the four miscreants. “I asked the Guard to direct them here before I dealt with them. How is Plo?”

Vokara shakes her head. “He’s been exposed to a poison unlike any I’ve ever seen, with strong traces of the Dark in it. Fortunately, he’s been keeping himself in a deep healing trance, which has done more to save his life than the bacta has.”

“Will he be all right?” the clone on the left asks. Mace now recognizes him by his markings as Wolffe, Plo’s commander. “Can you heal him?”

Vokara gives him a reassuring smile. “He’ll be all right. We have to go slowly in order to purge all the Darkness from him, and we’ll need to have a Healer meditate by his side for a few hours every day, but I predict we can wake him from the trance in a day or three.”

The tension bleeds out of Wolffe’s frame. “Thank you, General.”

“Not a general,” Vokara sighs, clearly not for the first time. She nods at both Wolffe and Mace before heading back into Plo’s healing chamber.

The second clone, and Mace finally recognizes him by the helmet markings as Rex, Skywalker’s captain, looks at Wolffe and tilts his head towards the chamber. “Go on. We’ll handle this.”

Interesting. Before all the disappearances in the GAR, no clone, commander or otherwise, would have made a unilateral decision like that right in front of Mace. Mace raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t object when Wolffe, after a brief hesitation, salutes him again and follows Vokara into the chamber.

“So.” Mace folds his arms. “Care to explain… well, I don’t even know where to start.”

“It’s a long explanation, Master Windu,” Ahsoka says, wringing her hands, “and we’re not really meant to be the ones giving it. We were hoping you’d already heard from Master Kenobi by now.”

“I think we were all hoping we’d have heard from Master Kenobi by now,” Mace remarks. “But since you’re here, and we haven’t, it’s going to be up to you.” He uses his comm to convene an emergency Council session. “Follow me.”

He turns his back on them, then thinks better of it and turns back, meeting Boba Fett’s eyes. The kid is still glaring murder at him. Mace has been ignoring the waves of banked fury battering him in the Force until now. He’s only a child, but he is a child that blew up Mace’s ship and got several of his men killed in an attempt to get to him. Best not underestimate the strength of a grudge like that.

“I don’t know why you’re here, kid, since you’re supposed to be dead in a speeder accident, but it doesn’t look like an assassination attempt, given the lack of bombs. Are we going to have a problem?”

Boba clenches his jaw. After a long moment of silence, Captain Rex nudges him, and he grits out, “No. My father died in battle against a worthy opponent. That’s the risk he took going into battle.”

He drops his eyes sullenly, and the captain squeezes his shoulder.

Mace can feel his eyebrows climb. A tiny shatterpoint just broke, a potential darker future averted. “That’s a change of tune.”

“We’ve had a long talk about this on the way here,” Captain Rex says. Boba elbows him hard, but – being armored – he ignores it. “Boba is working on accepting what happened, but he’s still grieving. I hope you can make some allowances for that, sir.”

Mace can’t help but soften. He doesn’t feel any guilt for what he did – as Boba said, however unwillingly, these things happen in battle – but if he’d known Boba was there, he would have made sure the kid was taken care of. “Losing your only family is a hard thing. As long as I don’t need to worry about any explosions, we’re good.” He’s not about to send a child back to prison. He’d argued against it in the first place, not that the court listened.

Boba glances up at him, still with a mulish expression, but doesn’t speak. Mace nods at him, then turns again to lead them to the Council chamber.

Assembling a full High Council is an odd experience, at the moment. That began once the war started, with half the Council members present only via hologram, but the last few months, Master Kenobi’s conspicuously empty seat has been impossible to ignore. And now Master Koon’s seat as well. Every single Council member that sits down or holocalls in spares a moment to stare at the two silent seats.

“Well,” Mace says, once everyone is present. “Padawan Tano, Captain Rex.” He’ll assume Fett’s kid is just along for the ride, for the moment. “Six month ago you both deserted, and now you bring us our fellow Council member back in a bacta tank. We’d appreciate an explanation.”

It hasn’t escaped his notice that both Ahsoka and Captain Rex have been frantically trying their comms on the way to the Council chamber. The captain is still surreptitiously pushing buttons, but Ahsoka has now abandoned the effort. She steps forward and bows to the Council. “I’m sorry, Masters. I’m sure you remember giving Master Skywalker permission to find Master Kenobi. Well, we… we did, and he told us he’d had a vision.”

Mace has known Obi-Wan for most of his life in one capacity or another. Obi-Wan has a strong connection to the Unifying Force, giving him some foresight and excellent instincts, but he’s never had visions concrete enough to lead to something like this. “Did he?”

Ahsoka hesitates at his tone. “Masters, I really think that it’s better if he tells you himself.”

“Master Kenobi is not here, and you are,” Master Tiin says.

“I’m sure that he’ll–”

Ahsoka is interrupted by Obi-Wan’s hologram flickering to life. The Council members may seem to remain unaffected, but several people release shock and relief into the Force. Ahsoka herself practically wilts from the reprieve.

“Obi-Wan.” Mace manages to keep his voice even, inwardly breathing his own sigh of relief.

“Masters,” Obi-Wan says. He looks less put together than usual, and the new stress lines on his face are visible even over holo. It’s hard for Mace to even look at him; even from this distance, the man looks like a walking shatterpoint, dozens of potential futures condensed into one person. “I apologize for my tardiness, Ahsoka, Rex, Boba. There’s a bit of an emergency here.” He turns his head to look around the Council and seems to be almost taken aback to see them, meeting everyone’s eyes in turn. “My friends. It’s so good to see you.”

There’s something in his voice that gives Mace pause, just as he was preparing to give a reprimand.

“You’re the one who left, Obi-Wan,” Depa says, speaking the exact words that were caught in Mace’s throat.

The war has, in some ways, brought the High Council closer together. Being responsible for making difficult decisions with millions of lives in the balance has created a bond between them, a shared understanding only possibly in the face of adversity. For one of their number to disappear on them so suddenly, with no explanation, has been difficult on everyone.

They’ve had to carry on the business of war after losing one of their best tacticians, and they’ve had to watch as other colleagues and friends and even their karking army disappeared from under their nose, and then worse, to see reports coming in that these people were spotted all over the galaxy, yet did not deign to give the Council a word of explanation. Mace would like to be enlightened enough to say he holds no grudge, but unfortunately, he’s only just enlightened enough to know himself better than that. Well, the Jedi Code tells them to seek enlightenment, not to embody it.

Obi-Wan looks at his hands. “Point well made, Depa. Masters, I must apologize for my actions. I promise you, they had a purpose. I’m sure you must have worried I had Fallen to the Dark side–”

Yoda interrupts him with a thump of his gimer stick against the stone floor. “Worry, we did not,” he says. “Fall, you did not. Only concerned for your welfare, were we. Trust you, we did.”

Obi-Wan stares at him for a long moment, then looks down again, blinking rapidly. “I’m… honored by your trust, Masters. Still. I truly am sorry for the subterfuge, and the time has come to tell you everything.” He glances at the three in the center of the chamber. “I do ask that you let my co-conspirators rest, though. It’s been an eventful week.”

Mace nods, prompting the rest of the Council to somewhat begrudgingly agree. The three are shuffled off to the side of the chamber and given cushions to sit on.

“Well, Obi-Wan?” Adi Gallia prompts once they’re settled.

Obi-Wan nods. “Seven months ago, something happened to me. I had… I suppose it’s best described as an unusually detailed vision.”

He’s lying.

Mace knows him too well and has been his confidant for far too long not to know his tells. Obi-Wan proceeds to tell them about the future he supposedly saw, and the steps he’s taken to avert it. The news about the Sith in the senate is less of a shock than the chips in the clones, even if the fact that it’s the Chancellor causes some uproar. For Mace, it’s more of a confirmation of something he’s suspected for months now, but never fully admitted to himself.

He feels a wave of guilt for never looking into it further, for not investigating the requisition of the clones more deeply. As Master of the Order, that was all under his purview. He should have fought harder. Mace breathes out and releases the guilt into the Force, considering it unhelpful for now. He can re-examine it later to inform his future behavior, but at this point it will only stand in his way.

Obi-Wan sends them an encrypted information packet with the evidence he’s gathered to corroborate his story. By the end of his explanation, no one bothers to tell him the future is always in motion. Clearly, he had to act.

As they each decrypt and skim the information, Master Fisto asks what they’ve been doing about the chips.

“They’re fairly easy to remove with a specially programmed med droid, fortunately,” Obi-Wan explains.

“There are millions of clones,” Master Poof objects. “Surely you haven’t operated on all of them.”

“No,” Obi-Wan agrees, “but we do have enough people in place now that, when I give the signal, all Jedi and chipped clones still out in the field will be approached at once and asked to cut off all contact with Coruscant for three days. That way, Darth Sidious can’t give the signal to any clone except those on Coruscant itself. Which is lucky, because we are running out of time.”

Mace notices Master Ti seems completely unsurprised at the unfolding of events. He raises an eyebrow at her flickering form, and she smiles back placidly. “You knew,” he accuses her in an aside, while most of the Council is still absorbed in reading the information packet.

She tilts her head. “Kamino is safe. Several of the men in the other battalions are also safe now, I’m happy to report, at least the ones sent back to Kamino for healing or retraining. Surely you don’t blame me for keeping a necessary secret.”

“Blame or anger, there should not be,” Yoda pronounces, overhearing them. “Angry at those who have been trying to save us, we are not.”

“Speak for yourself,” Mace mutters.

Yoda folds his hands over his gimer stick and casts him a narrow-eyed look, ears low. Mace gets the message and shuts up, Master of the Order or no.

“Come to us now, why do you?” Yoda asks Obi-Wan.

“For one thing, we now have the evidence we needed to convince you, and hopefully the senate, as well. And for another…” Obi-Wan glances behind him at someone they can’t see. “I’m afraid Count Dooku has learned at least something of our plans. Two hours ago, he intercepted Senator Organa’s ship before it could land on Alderaan and abducted him.”

There’s a shocked silence. “Count Dooku abducted Bail Organa?” Mace repeats, just to confirm. At Obi-Wan’s nod, he continues, “And yet you’ve taken a full hour to brief us?”

Obi-Wan shrugs. “Well, he has yet to issue any demands, so I had some time, after determining what had happened and securing Queen Breha’s safety.”

What did Mace do to deserve colleagues like this? “I take it he targeted Organa because you brought him in on this?”

Obi-Wan nods. “Bail has been serving as our inside man in the Senate. He doesn’t know the full story, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s figured out quite a bit more than I told him.”

“Then what makes you think he’s going to issue demands?” Master Rancisis asks, his coils tightening in apprehension. “He may just want to interrogate Organa.”

“Bail knows what we’ve been doing, but not what we’re still planning to do. I’m fairly sure he will want to use Bail as bait for me.”

“Then you need to come to Coruscant at once,” Mace says. “We’ll take this to the senate and arrest Palpatine.”

“We have no way of knowing whether Dooku has told his Master anything,” Obi-Wan says, “and personally, I’d prefer to find out before we confront Sidious. I don’t intend to be caught up in a back-up plan unawares. Besides… you know springing traps is my speciality.”

“Obi-Wan, you can’t confront Dooku by yourself,” Adi protests. “If you lose, we’re in an even worse position than we were before.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “You now have all the important information, and Commander Cody knows more about the plan than I do. This is much bigger than me; I’ve made sure of it. And I won’t be alone. I have my men.”

“They’ll need something bigger than a DC blaster to take on Count Dooku,” Mace warns.

“The Slave I comes equipped with seismic charges,” Boba Fett offers out of nowhere.

Everyone looks at the kid in surprise. Then Obi-Wan laughs. “Thank you, Boba, what an excellent idea.”

Once back in his quarters, Mace finds himself uneasy, unable to settle down. They wrapped up the call with a stern warning to Obi-Wan to be in touch as soon as the confrontation with Dooku is finished. Padawan Tano, Captain Rex and Boba have been sent off for food and rest, with a request not to leave the Temple.

There’s nothing to do now but go through the materials Obi-Wan sent, and wait. But something is niggling at Mace. He calls Obi-Wan back on the secure frequency he’s given them.

Obi-Wan picks up, looking more worried than before. “Mace? I don’t have much time, Dooku has contacted us.”

“You didn’t have a vision,” Mace declares.

Obi-Wan pauses. “It’s… the best explanation I can give you.”

“But not the truth.” Mace has a suspicion of what the truth is, but it’s crazy, and most of the other Council members would debate it to death. He can imagine why Obi-Wan went for the easier explanation. But he senses there’s something deeper to Obi-Wan's reticence than ease of understanding. There are gaps in the story Obi-Wan told them, things he isn’t willing to share.

“Mace…” Obi-Wan looks pained.

“Skywalker Fell, didn’t he? In whatever future you saw, or experienced.” Mace remembers many occasions where Obi-Wan shared his doubts and worries as a Master, and he knows well enough there is one person in the galaxy that Obi-Wan would be willing to go to such drastic lengths for.

Obi-Wan squeezes his eyes shut. “He hasn’t yet, Mace.”

“You could have stopped this all in its tracks much more simply,” Mace reminds him. “It’s the duty of the Jedi Order to arrest Darksiders.”

“Is it our duty to condemn someone for something they haven’t yet done?” Obi-Wan demands. “Isn’t it more true to the Jedi Code to lead someone back to the Light?”

Mace folds his arms. “You’ve had worries about him for years.”

“He’s not going to Fall this time. I know what to do now.” Obi-Wan meets his eyes with unwavering conviction. “I’ve seen him Fall, true, but I’ve also seen him come back to the Light, Mace. Not just him, either. It’s not about fighting those who Fall: it’s about showing them they still have Light inside them.”

“And do you now plan to show Count Dooku there is still Light inside him?” Mace demands.

Obi-Wan sighs. “Perhaps. I don’t know if have the history with him to make the right impact, but we’ll see.”

“Don’t do anything stupid and get yourself killed, Obi-Wan.”

“I’ll do my very best.”

Chapter Text

When the river's running red
And we begin to falter
We'll hang on to the edge
Come Hell or high water
         Hell or High Water – The Rescues

“I’m not sure what you hope to gain from this,” Bail says, shifting position carefully. The binders on his wrists are tight, but if he can just casually get his hands near his boots, he might be able to extract the electromagnetic lockpick his head of security insists he always have on him. He’s never been more grateful for that now. However, moving your hands to your shoes while sitting in a chair is never going to be a subtle motion.

“Did you expect me to explain all my plans to you, Senator Organa? Surely you don’t think me so foolish.” Count Dooku is sitting at the table across from him, a glass of expensive Alderaanian wine in front of him.

Bail has one, too, Force knows why. It’s not as if he has the freedom of movement to drink it. “Well, to be honest, I expected an interrogation.”

He’s been steeling himself for it ever since the attack on his ship by Dooku’s dreadnought, telling himself it was time to display that bravery that Obi-Wan seems to see in him. So far, nothing more unpleasant has happened than having to sit in uncomfortable silence with a Sith Lord, while in binders and surrounded by MagnaGuard droids.

Dooku tuts. “There’s no need for that, Senator. I already have the information I require. You’re merely bait.”

“If you believe Master Kenobi is just going to trade himself in for me, you are foolish,” Bail says.

“Master Kenobi is a reasonable man, and can be convinced to cooperate if given the right incentive.” Dooku takes a sip of his wine. “Not to worry, Senator, you’re both more useful alive at the moment.”

Bail isn’t sure whether that’s more reassuring or ominous.

Suddenly, Dooku lifts his head and stares off into the distance. Bail has been around enough Jedi to know when someone is listening to the Force. “Ah, here he is.”

The Sith gestures to the MagnaGuard behind Bail, just as they receive word from the droids on the bridge about a starfighter docking, the pilot identified as Jedi Master Kenobi. Bail is forced to his feet and made to stand behind Dooku. A few minutes later, the droid at the door announces Obi-Wan’s arrival.

“Hello there,” he says pleasantly as he saunters in. “You wanted to see me.”

“That’s far enough, Master Kenobi,” Dooku says, and the MagnaGuard holding Bail activates its electrostaff in a clear threat.

Obi-Wan stops on the other side of the table, meeting Bail’s eyes briefly before focusing back on Dooku. “Why go to all this trouble, Count? Couldn’t you simply contact me directly if you wanted to talk? Surely Barriss could give you my comm code.”

Dooku regards him coolly. “Just as Senator Organa serves as leverage for you, you will serve as leverage to your compatriots. I know what you’ve been doing, Master Kenobi. You’ve been stealing armies and securing the loyalty of planets on both sides of the conflict under the pretext of saving the galaxy. Very clever. You should have been a Sith.”

“Now, there’s no need for insults,” Obi-Wan retorts.

Bail sighs to himself. Now he knows why everyone complains about Obi-Wan bantering with his enemies.

“Knight Offee has told me that you have a plan to rid the senate of my Master.” Dooku smiles. “That sounds like an excellent idea.”

“I suppose it would, since that would make you the Sith Master.” Obi-Wan folds his arms. “I’ve yet to hear why I’m here. And where is Knight Offee?”

“Not with us, I’m afraid. I had another purpose for her.” Dooku takes a step away from Bail, but the Magnaguard still offers no freedom of movement. “I’m sure you had your plans for me, as well. But with you here, your people will have to leave me be.” Dooku spreads his hands. “This can be a mutually beneficial arrangement. To be honest, I tire of my Master’s machinations. This war is too destructive. There’s no purpose in amassing power over a heap of ash. I can help you defeat Lord Sidious. And afterwards, we can divide up the galaxy and there can be peace, again.”

Obi-Wan raises his eyebrows. “Oh, we simply split the galaxy between us, is that it? What an elegant solution. Well, when you put it that way, how could I refuse? Half a Sith empire must be better for you than none, and better than a whole one for us, I suppose.”

“There will be no empire,” Dooku scoffs. “Do you remember when we first met? Much of what I told you then was true.”

“You asked me to join you to fight the Sith, when even at the time you were a Sith. That hardly strikes me as truthful.”

“I also told you the senate was under the control of Darth Sidious. That was certainly no lie, as you now know for yourself.” Dooku begins to pace between Obi-Wan and Bail. “I told you about the corruption in the senate, the decline of the Jedi Order, how blind the Dark had made the Jedi. I know that you’ve learned the truth of this since then. I tried to speak to the Council about this long before you were even Knighted, to shake them awake, but they were far too complacent and set in their ways. So yes, I joined the Sith and started the Separatist movement, but not for power. I only meant to cleanse the galaxy of this taint of corruption and start fresh. My Master’s goals are not my own.”

“I see. Do you know, I actually believe that may have been your original intention,” Obi-Wan muses, stroking his beard. “Now, of course, you are too mired in the Dark for such noble ideas and all you care about is power.” He holds up a hand when Dooku tries to protest. “No, no, you’re trying to manipulate me, but that’s all right. I do want those things for the galaxy, you see. A truly democratic Republic, and a Jedi Order that is free to act as the Force wills. That sounds lovely. Can you still remember how it felt when you sincerely wanted those things?” He gives Dooku an almost pitying look. “It must have been after Qui-Gon’s death.”

Dooku draws himself up. “And you accuse me of manipulation.”

“Well, as you reminded me then, he was not only my Master, but also your Padawan, once.” Obi-Wan glances around the room. “I could use some help with this one, Master, if you’re around somewhere.”

Dooku and Bail are both left staring at him. Bail cautiously asks, “Obi-Wan, are you talking to your dead Master?”

Obi-Wan shrugs. “It was worth a try. Sometimes he talks back.” He smiles at Dooku’s flabbergasted look. “There is no death, there is the Force.”

In the dumbstruck silence, the explosion that shakes the dreadnought is all the more shocking. Bail is almost knocked off his feet, only held up by the MagnaGuard. It’s an excellent opportunity to get his hand to his boot, however.

Dooku keeps his footing, and glares at Obi-Wan. “Here comes the back-up, I presume.”

He draws his lightsaber and holds it under Bail’s chin. Bail shrinks back from the crackling heat near his skin, almost dropping the lockpick now hidden between his fingers.

“Call them off, or I kill him,” Dooku demands.

Bail swallows. “Don’t negotiate with him, Obi-Wan. The whole galaxy hangs in the balance, here.” Silently, he asks Breha for forgiveness.

“Kill him and you lose your leverage, Count,” Obi-Wan reminds Dooku.

There’s another boom, and Bail fears it will be the ship’s shaking that ends him, with the lightsaber so close to his throat, but the Magnaguard pulls him backwards and out of range.

“Take him,” Dooku orders the other Magnaguards in the room, gesturing at Obi-Wan.

The droids move in on Obi-Wan. Two of them swing their electrostaffs, and Obi-Wan nimbly ducks under one and then leaps over the other. Curiously, he makes no move to draw his lightsaber, only weaving between the droids without doing any damage. Bail watches the odd dance with his heart in his throat. He wants to use the lockpick, but the MagnaGuard behind him is holding him too tightly.

A third explosion almost pushes Obi-Wan right into the path of an electrostaff, and he has to roll to avoid it. Then the droids suddenly stop dead in their tracks.

Dooku growls. “I said, take him!”

The Magnaguards turn to face Dooku. “We don’t have to follow your orders,” the one holding Bail says.

Dooku’s eyes widen in understanding. “Ah, so this is how you’ve been taking my armies. Very clever. A virus, is it?”

Obi-Wan straightens his robes, catching his breath. “Indeed, you don’t have to follow his orders,” he addresses the droids. “Is there something you would like to do instead?”

The droids stand there, swiveling their heads to look at each other. “We don’t know,” one of them says.

“I like to go fast,” another offers.

“Why don’t you all meet my colleagues on the bridge and find out if there’s an interesting career out there for you? We’ve been helping several of your fellows do the same. Perhaps you could be a podracer,” Obi-Wan tells the droid that likes speed.

Bail giggles a little hysterically as the droids start filing out of the room. Dooku doesn’t try to stop them, grabbing onto Bail himself, lightsaber still lit. He starts backing them up to the exit on the opposite side. “If you want to save the Senator, Obi-Wan, I suggest you come with me.”

Obi-Wan follows slowly, drawing his own saber.

“Don’t, Obi-Wan,” Bail says, carefully turning the lockpick to make contact with the binders. “Just go. You know I’m willing to give my life to the cause.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes flicker down to his hands and then quickly back up to Bail’s face. He nods carefully, confirming that he’s seen what Bail is doing. “Dooku, there’s nowhere to go. If you truly want to negotiate–”

He breaks off as Dooku takes them backwards through the exit and into a small onboard hangar. Over his shoulder, Bail glimpses a small, sleek vessel, painted gold from stem to stern. At the same time, he feels the lockpick do its work and his hands release.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widen when he spots the obvious escape route. “Bail! Drop!”

With renewed freedom of movement, Bail pushes Dooku’s lightsaber arm away from himself, then drops to the floor as ordered and rolls out of range. Dooku recovers very quickly and steps on the edge of Bail’s ornate senatorial robe to stop his escape. Bail is freed a second later, however, when Obi-Wan takes the opportunity to somersault over Bail and force Dooku backwards, their lightsabers crashing against each other in a hiss.

Bail scrambles backwards and makes his way to his feet, watching the duel. To his untrained eye, they seem fairly evenly matched. Dooku is all economic motions, attacking in quick slashes that meet the swirling blue shield of Obi-Wan’s defense. However, the duel doesn’t stay contained to lightsabers.

Gaining some distance after a vicious strike, Dooku uses the break to fire lightning from his hands at Obi-Wan. Bail holds his breath, but Obi-Wan catches the crackling bolt on his lightsaber, seemingly unharmed. Bail notices that the field of battle has changed: Obi-Wan is now between Dooku and the ship, while Dooku is closer to Bail. Bail looks around to see if there is something he could use to get Dooku from behind while he’s distracted. Most hangar bays have fuel canisters, but Bail has recognized the ship as a solar sailer now, which doesn’t require fuel. He finds a chain near the wall and hurls it at Dooku, who merely seizes it with the Force and turns it into a missile aimed at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan’s lightsaber slices through it and it falls to the floor in pieces.

They continue their duel, Dooku driving Obi-Wan slowly backwards. Obi-Wan looks unfazed by it, his face implacably calm as he meets every strike of Dooku’s blade.

Bail breaks off his search for a weapon as he spots something moving in the open ramp of the ship from the corner of his eye. Someone is creeping up on the duellists. “Obi-Wan!” He shouts in warning. “Behind you!”

A lightsaber ignites behind Obi-Wan’s back at that moment. He spins out of the way, but Bail can hear him gasp when the saber scores a hit against his shoulder. He stumbles backwards, spotting his new adversary. “Barriss!”

The moment of distraction costs him. Dooku lunges forward and traps Obi-Wan’s blade with his own, then twirls his lightsaber around and slices right through Obi-Wan’s saber arm, severing the hand at the wrist. Obi-Wan cries out. The hand and lightsaber drop to the floor. Face twisted up in pain, Obi-Wan still holds out his left hand, calling his lightsaber back to him. His eyes meet Bail’s eyes briefly and flick to the exit behind Bail. Bail shakes his head, struck with horror.

Dooku thrusts out a hand, slamming Obi-Wan against the side of the ship with a wave of the Force. Obi-Wan loses the lightsaber again, and it rolls away under the ship. “Bail, go!” he grits out.

The woman, who must be Barriss Offee, focuses on Bail and begins stalking towards him. Bail swallows hard, backing up. There’s nothing he can do against a Sith Lord and an apparently Fallen Jedi. What he can do, is try to halt Dooku’s escape. But it would mean leaving Obi-Wan to his fate.

As Obi-Wan is lifted into the air, clutching at his throat, Bail makes one of the most difficult decisions of his life and ducks out the door. In the other room, he grabs an abandoned electrostaff and thrusts it into the door mechanism, shorting it out to keep anyone from following him. Then he races off to the bridge, heart pounding in his throat.

The ship is enormous. It takes far too long to get to where he needs to go. When he spots a squad of clones moving down the hallway, he latches on immediately. “Troopers!”

“Senator Organa! Are you all right?” one of the clones responds.

Bail shakes his head impatiently. “Comm your people on the bridge immediately. Count Dooku is trying to escape in a solar sailer. He needs to be stopped.”

The clones stiffen and urgently relay the message to the bridge. A moment later the reply comes: “Sorry, senator, the solar sailer was too fast for the tractor beam to latch onto. Dooku is gone.”

Bail staggers backwards to lean against the bulkhead. “Obi-Wan is on that ship.”

Chapter Text

When you breathe for the first time
When you see for the first time
When you love for the first time
I'll be here
       Loved You Before – Natalie Taylor

Padmé is bent over the table in the Resolute’s war room, puzzling out how to divide their resources according to the latest intelligence, when Anakin comes in. He drapes his arms around her, and she smiles, straightening up to lean back against him.

“I was just contacted by the High Council,” he says in her ear. “They’ve spoken to Obi-Wan, and they’re on board.”

“Ani! That’s wonderful news.” She turns in his arms and puts her hands on his chest. “Did they… how were they? Did they seem angry, like you thought?”

He smiles. “No, not really. They seemed pretty understanding, actually. Mostly just… businesslike.”

She gives him a brief kiss on the lips. “See? You always imagine the worst, but a lot of things actually turn out just fine.”

He pulls back a little. “Are you saying I’m too negative?”

“I’m saying you worry too much.” She kisses him again, and this time he melts into it. She’s the one to pull back, turning around in his arms again to go over the information again. “I don’t suppose they gave you an update on everyone’s position?”

“They did, actually.” His breath on the back of her neck gives her pleasant shivers. “Here.” He reaches out to upload the latest data.

Padmé breathes a sigh of relief. It’s been a lot of work reading themselves into the full scope of Obi-Wan and Cody’s work. There are many more Jedi on their side than Padmé had initially thought. That’s mostly because not all Jedi have battalions or legions under them the way Anakin and Obi-Wan do. Some work with very few clones, or none at all, especially those engaged in intelligence work.

While those few with a larger troop count have stepped up their work with the droids, it’s the smaller groups and individuals that need to be spread out through the galaxy, each of them keeping an eye on legions still inside the GAR. Not everyone has been able to lay eyes on their target yet, and they need to be in position and ready to go when they get the signal. Getting this information on the GAR’s positions is crucial.

“We aren’t too far off on most of these. That’s a relief.” Anakin walks around the table once the new data is projected, studying it. “I’ll get Appo to send the corrections.”

It’s good to see him finally relaxing. He’s been so tense since the others left. This might be a good time to share her news. “Ani,” she starts. “I want to talk about what comes after the war.”

He looks up at her. “I know, me too,” he says, much more enthusiastically than she was expecting. “Now that I’ve spoken with the Council, I kind of realized I may have been building them up in my head to be much worse than they are.”

“That’s what I literally just said to you,” Padmé says, momentarily derailed from her own plans for this conversation.

He winces. “Yeah, no, I know. I’m guess I’m saying, you’re right. But… I think I really do want to leave the Order. I don’t know why I was so afraid to consider it before. A big part of it was not wanting to abandon everyone fighting the war, but hopefully, that’s not going to be a factor much longer.”

“That’s… that’s great, Ani. I want you to do what makes you happy.”

He sweeps her back into his arms. “I think being with you openly is going to make me happier than anything. What about your position in the senate, though?”

“I’ve actually been thinking about that myself.” She settles herself against him, trying to get her thoughts back on track. “I don’t think I want to go back, even if I can recover my reputation. At the very least, I want to take a leave of absence.”

He presses his lips together, and she can tell he’s trying not to get his hopes up. “Really? I mean, I want you to be happy, too, and I know how much your work means to you.”

She smiles at him, and he loses the battle with his excitement, beaming back at her. “It did. But I’m also starting to see how constraining the rules of the senate have been for me, and how much frustration I’ve been carrying, trying to get the people in the senate to do the right thing when most of them are never going to look past their own position and credit balance.”

He nods. “Right? I know exactly how you feel. Padmé, we could do so much good together, just being out here, in the galaxy, helping people directly. And I think a lot of my men would want to stay on and do the same.”

She shouldn’t say it, because she doesn’t want to get his hopes up too much, but… “Maybe we should go to Tatooine, first of all.”

He pulls a face. “Force, really?”

She waits, and watches the realization dawn on his face.

“Wait, really? You…” He trails off, staring in the distance for a moment. “We’ve been freeing clones and droids. We could keep going. Free all the slaves.”

She squeezes his waist fondly. “I know it’s what you’ve always wanted. I want that, too. And even if the senate gets a reality check from all of this, it’s never going to move as fast as we want it to. It’s never going to vote to spend money on something this big with no immediate return. It’s never going to want to risk war with the Hutts or Zygerrians. So… maybe we need to just act independently.”

He picks her up and swings her around in the air. “I love you so much. You’re the most perfect woman in the galaxy!” He puts her down when she pushes at his arms, a little nauseous at the sudden movement. “Sorry. I know we need to focus on getting the war and the Sith behind us, first. But… I’ve been in touch with Bo-Katan since we left Mandalore. Her people are chomping at the bit to help us fight. She says Mandalore has never been so willing to put its infighting behind it until they found this common enemy. I think I could float the idea of her people joining us when the war is over, give them something to do besides fighting each other.”

That… would make things a lot more feasible. With just them and whichever clones are willing to join them, it’s a risky operation. They’d need to find a way to make credits to support themselves. With a few Mandalorian mercenary companies at their backs, however, they’d be a force to be reckoned with. Of course that only works if Mandalore is more willing to risk angering the Hutts than the senate is. “That’s a really good idea, Ani.” She licks her lips. “We may want to take a break first, though. I’m–”

Anakin’s comm cuts her off. “Sorry, that’s Cody’s comm. I should take this.” He answers the call. “Commander? Go ahead.”

“General Skywalker.” Cody’s voice sounds grim. “We have a problem. Count Dooku attacked and he’s taken General Kenobi.”

In the ringing silence after that statement, the overhead lights flicker. “What?” Anakin’s voice has dropped low.

“I know how you feel, believe me. But sir, I need you to hold it together and meet us at the Temple on Coruscant. We need to set things in motion before Dooku kriffs things up for us even further.”

“Where is he?” Anakin growls. The floor has started to tremble beneath them.

“Ani,” Padmé says, taking his arm. “Calm down.”

“Do not, I repeat, do not go chasing after Dooku, Skywalker,” Cody warns. “We have no idea where he is, and I need you to meet me on Coruscant.”

Anakin switches off the comm. Padmé winces at the scowl on his face. The trembling of the ship increases, and everything not nailed down in the room begins to levitate. “I’ll find him, and I’ll end him,” Anakin snarls.

Padmé sees something yellow flicker in the depths of his eyes and backs up a step.

No. She’s not losing him like this. “Anakin, Obi-Wan needs you. You can’t lose it now.”

“I know he needs me!” The floating datapads, cups and other debris fly back against the wall and shatter. Shards graze Padmé’s arm, and she flinches.

“Ani! Stop! You could hurt me.”

He looks down at her, and shuts his eyes. “Padmé, I… I can’t…”

She gathers her courage and grabs both of his hands. “Yes, you can. You know why?”

He opens his eyes again, staring at her. “Why?”

“Because you’re the father of my child, Ani.”

He blinks. The trembling beneath them stops. “What?”

She grabs his flesh hand and puts it against her abdomen. “Can you feel it? I’m pregnant.”

He blinks, then closes his eyes once more. When he opens them again, all the anger is gone, replaced by wonder. “There’s a… a tiny light in the Force.”

She smiles shakily at him. “So I – we – need you to calm down. I love Obi-Wan, too, but if we have no idea where Dooku’s gone, we can’t do anything for him right now. Cody’s right, we need to go to Coruscant and coordinate our next steps.”

Anakin breathes out a shuddering sigh. “Okay. Okay. We’ll go to Coruscant. I’ll… I’ll meditate on the way there. Maybe I can find him.”

She wraps her arms around him and holds on tightly. There’s a dozen things they need to set in motion, but for just a second, she needs to feel as if she can hold him together with the force of her love alone.

Chapter Text

Oh, I know I hate it but I just can’t escape it ‘cause
All my favorite monsters, they’ve got fangs
        Fangs – Neoni

Dooku makes sure to oversee his med droid as it patches up the worst of Kenobi’s injuries. Bacta is wrapped around his shoulder, his throat, and of course the stump of his right arm. For the damage done by the Force lightning, a bacta tank would be needed. Dooku has no intention of letting him regain that much strength. Kenobi may be beaten and unconscious, but Dooku will not let down his guard just yet. He has seen Kenobi beaten before, and he tends to come up swinging.

It’s two hours after treatment that Kenobi opens his eyes. He looks around the medbay wildly for a moment before his eyes land on Dooku.

“You are on one of my frigates,” Dooku tells him. “Your injuries have been seen to. Would you care for something to eat?”

Kenobi gingerly sits up. He glances down at his missing right hand, and his eyes close briefly. Dooku watches him collect himself, and when his eyes open again, he’s clearly regained his composure. “Such a civilized welcome. No cell?” His voice is still hoarse from the recent choking.

“You may be my prisoner at the moment, but I still have hope we can come to an agreement.”

Once Kenobi stands, wobbling on his feet momentarily, Dooku leads him out of the medbay and to the elevator that will take them to his private dining hall.

“You do realize that if I didn’t fall for your pitch the first time, I’m unlikely to do so now.” Kenobi leans against the wall, obviously still recovering his energy. “Still, I must applaud you. You expected our distraction when I came to rescue Bail, and you usurped it to cover your exit. And surprising me by springing Barriss on me… Well played.”

Dooku raises an eyebrow at him. “Did you honestly expect me not to know you would steal my droids, when you’ve been doing so for months? How you underestimate me.”

The elevator doors open, and he leads Kenobi into the dining hall.

“I was rather surprised you’d surrounded yourself with them, to be honest.” Kenobi pulls up short at the sight of Barriss Offee at the dining table. He smiles ruefully. “Barriss.”

Dooku sits at the head of the table, and gestures Kenobi into the seat across from Offee. “Knight Offee has offered herself as my new apprentice. Since you managed to sway Ventress to your side, the position was open.”

A droid serves them roasted bonzami, but Kenobi is given soup, in deference to his throat injury. He reaches for the spoon automatically with his right arm, pauses, then takes it with his left.

“Very unfortunate,” Dooku says, nodding at Kenobi’s wrist. “I was counting on your dueling prowess against my Master.”

Kenobi’s spoon halts in midair. He puts it back into the bowl. “Yes, well, whose fault it that?” he asks drily. He looks at Offee. “If I may ask, Barriss, what was the final straw that broke the eopie’s back?”

Offee regards him coolly. “The fact that the Jedi chose to fight in this war has been abhorrent to me from the start. It goes against everything we stand for. I chose to join you, Master Kenobi, because I saw a better alternative in you. And then you practically told me to sacrifice myself to keep your secrets. You knew that if I’d fought Master Dooku, I would lose. You were the final straw.”

Kenobi nods slowly, looking at his bowl of soup. “I see. I don’t suppose it occurred to you that becoming a Sith apprentice also goes against everything we stand for?”

Offee puts her fork down, frowning. “I had to make a choice–”

“You said we when you spoke of the Jedi, Barriss, but you’re no longer one. I agree that it was a terrible thing to ask you. And yet I asked it, because as Jedi, we are willing to make sacrifices for the greater good. Sometimes those sacrifices include ourselves.” Kenobi gestures at the both of them.

She stares at him, then glances at Dooku. Dooku leans back in his chair, watching this play out. He couldn’t have devised a better test for his new apprentice if he’d planned it.

Offee sits forward. “If you’re trying to claim the moral high ground here, Master, let me remind you that your entire master plan revolves around killing one man.”

“It does not, actually.” Kenobi’s face is unreadable. “But I accept that it is the most probable outcome. Let’s not forget that man is a Sith Lord and the instigator of the war you so despise.”

“So you say.” Offee wraps her arms around herself. “And now that you’re our prisoner and your plan has failed, were all the sacrifices worth it?”

Dooku hides a smile. Our prisoner, indeed.

Kenobi smiles sadly. “Oh, Barriss. I hadn’t quite realized how badly we had failed the Padawans Knighted during the war.” He shakes his head. “My plan hasn’t failed, because I’ve made quite sure it doesn’t depend on me. If anything, my capture will have galvanized my friends.”

She startles. “What?”

Kenobi glances at Dooku. “I presume you realized this, even if she didn’t.”

Dooku steeples his fingers. “Of course. Your people will rush to remove my Master’s entire support structure within a day or two.”

“So we’ve failed?” Offee stands from the table. “This was all for nothing?”

Dooku shakes his head. So shortsighted. He stands as well, placing a hand on Offee’s shoulder to turn her towards him. “Do you doubt me, my apprentice?”

She scowls. “You told me you intended to shake the Jedi out of their inflexible belief they were always right, that we’d end the war together and that Master Kenobi would get what he deserved. And now we’ve accidentally helped him?”

“There was nothing accidental about it, you foolish child,” Dooku says irritably.

She looks at Master Kenobi. “But I’ve… I’ve betrayed the Jedi, it has to be for a greater purpose…”

Dooku sighs. He hadn’t had high hopes of this one, but she still managed to disappoint. In her emotional confusion, she hasn’t even noticed that he’s taken his lightsaber from his belt. The Dark whispers encouragement, and he sees no need to deny it. He ignites the saber against her chest, watching her eyes widen and then glaze over. Her brief flash of pain and fear before she dies gives him an intoxicating flare of power, and he closes his eyes momentarily to savor it.

When he opens them, he finds that Kenobi has jumped to his feet, while Offee’s body has slumped to the ground. “There was no need for that,” Kenobi grits out.

“She’d served her purpose.” Dooku sits back down in his chair and directs a cleaning droid to get rid of the corpse. Kenobi remains standing. He hasn’t touched his soup, Dooku notices with some annoyance. He does need the man to stay alive a least a little longer. “You can’t tell me you’re surprised.”

Kenobi slowly sinks back into his seat. “Qui-Gon is deeply disappointed in you.”

Dooku curls his lip. “Qui-Gon is dead.”

“There is no death, there is the Force,” Kenobi quotes again, infuriatingly.

Dooku almost considers doing something rash, when a feeling washes over him that he never thought to feel again. His former Padawan’s presence in the Force is tinged with sorrow and disappointment. Dooku falters. “What is this?”

Kenobi shrugs. “I could repeat myself, but that seems juvenile.”

The feeling of presence ebbs, and Dooku is unaccountably shaken. “A trick,” he accuses, pushing away the doubt trying to creep in.

“If you prefer to think that, I can’t stop you.” Kenobi leans back. “I think you’ve failed to account for one variable.”

Dooku raises an eyebrow. “Have I, now?”

“You want to do away with your Master, but your Master also wants to do away with you.”

Dooku scoffs. “Betrayal is part of what it means to be a Sith, but this is not the time for him to act. He still needs me. He has no other apprentice at this time, and he needs someone to run the other side of the war for him.”

Kenobi lifts his chin. “He does have another apprentice. One far more powerful than you.”

Kenobi started this all because he has had a vision of the future, Offee said. Dooku would like to discount it, but the Force whispers of truth. Dooku leans towards him. “What did you see?”

“He’s been grooming Anakin for years. He’s going to try and turn him and have him kill you,” Kenobi says, far too calmly for someone discussing his Padawan’s impending Fall. “You were just a stepping stone to the apprentice he really wanted.”

Anger rises cold and sharp in Dooku’s chest. He wants to deny it, but it makes far too much sense. He’s noticed his Master’s interest in the boy, but he’d assumed it was merely another thread in the tapestry, one of a thousand ways to destabilize the Order. After all, why would his Master ever set him aside for an impetuous child? Power means little when pitted against intellect.

“I’m guessing you planned to let my friends do your dirty work: remove Palpatine’s back up plans, expose him to the galaxy and then try to arrest him. You know he won’t go quietly, so there will be a fight. Perhaps they’d win: your Master would be dead, and you could step in during the confusion and grab whatever planets you could for the CIS while everyone was scrambling. Of course you had to remove me from the equation to have any chance of regaining those planets I’ve swayed to my side.” Kenobi meets his eyes unflinchingly. “But it would be even better if they didn’t win, wouldn’t it? Another reason for me not to be there when they confront him. You thought you could go to him, weakened from a fight, perhaps offer me up as a sacrifice to cement his trust, and then get close enough to him to kill him yourself. Setting you up as the savior of the galaxy, and hopefully its future ruler.”

Dooku inclines his head. “It truly is a pity you won’t be persuaded to join the Dark side, Obi-Wan. We could be unstoppable together.”

Kenobi looks meaningfully at the empty seat across from him. “I doubt you could stand to share power for long enough to be anything together. And your plan has a flaw. You count on his trust, but he doesn’t trust you. You’re nothing to him. Just as he discarded Maul, he will discard you. If you wait for the confrontation, Anakin will be there. I guarantee he will have already secured his new apprentice by the time you make your own move.”

Dooku thinks it through. It’s clear emotional manipulation, but there’s a disturbing ring of truth to it. From what he’s seen, Skywalker is already teetering on the edge of a Fall. Still… “You’re so sure he will Fall? Your own Padawan?”

Kenobi nods. “Without me to counterbalance Sidious’s influence? Very likely.”

Dooku remembers that Kenobi’s first move in all of this was to remove Skywalker from his Master’s sphere of influence. Clearly, he at least believes what he’s saying, even if he has his own motivations.

Well. Plans can be adjusted. He’s been trying to gain Kenobi’s cooperation from the start, and Kenobi has just given him the way in. The evidence against his Master is there, and though it would be better to wait for any resistance to be weakened, he needs his Master unguarded and trusting more than he needs a ragtag band of clones and Jedi out of the way. They can be dealt with later. In fact, if he can get his Master to kill Kenobi first, he can claim to have been returned to the Light by him and set himself up as a savior even more easily. After all, his Master has taught him how to hide the Darkness inside. And avenging a martyred Jedi Master is a better look than killing his Master for power.

“Very well,” he says, rising from his seat. “Then we’ll move now. I suspect you want my Master more than you want me. I’m sure you’d prefer an arrest, but we both know that will never happen. If you’re willing to accept his death instead, then help me.”

“And why would I help you?”

Dooku smiles. “How else will you prevent your Padawan’s fall? When you’re here now, not with him?”

Kenobi gives him a long, considering look. “You make a good point.”

“Master.” Dooku kneels respectfully.

Darth Sidious seems only mildly mollified. “Rise, apprentice, and explain to me why we’re meeting here.” He’s referring to the ritual chamber hidden in the LiMerge Power Building, their customary meeting place on Coruscant. “This is a politically sensitive time, and there must be no word of a Separatist leader on Coruscant. It had better be an emergency.”

Dooku stands. “No emergency, my Lord, but a gift.” He steps aside, showing the seemingly lifeless body of Kenobi behind him. “I have captured Obi-Wan Kenobi for you.”

Sidious steps forward, examining the body with his senses. He will find only a muted Force presence, as that of someone deeply unconscious. Dooku was a bit envious of the trick when Kenobi showed it to him. “I see... This is excellent work. Why did you leave him alive?”

Dooku bows. “After all the trouble he’s given you, my Lord, I felt it was your prerogative to kill him.”

Sidious’s eyes narrow. “Very considerate of you, apprentice.” He looks back at the Jedi. “His death will lead to many of my plans coming to fruition.” He draws a lightsaber.

Kenobi is under the impression that he will stall Sidious long enough to distract him and get close, upon which Kenobi will try to help incapacitate him in whatever way he can. Dooku, however, would prefer to wait until Kenobi reveals himself. He will have no hope of defending himself in his current condition, but his Master will be entirely focused on the kill, a perfect opportunity.

The red lightsaber erupts from the hilt with a hiss. Kenobi’s eyes flicker.

“Please don’t let him kill Obi-Wan, Master,” a voice says in his ear, startling Dooku. It sounds just like Qui-Gon.

Completely without forethought, he finds himself saying, “Master, wait. It occurred to me, on the way here, that having him publicly tried for treason might be even better. It would further tarnish the Jedi’s reputation, and it would give us the opportunity to regain the loyalty of the planets that Kenobi has influenced.”

Sidious pauses. “An interesting thought.” The lightsaber retracts. “However, given his way with words, it may better for him not to have any opportunity to speak.”

In a blink, Sidious lights the saber again, and swings it down towards Kenobi’s neck. Kenobi’s eyes fly open and he rolls out of the way, just as Dooku intercepts the downward arc of the saber with his own.

“Ah, here we are,” Sidious says, applying Force-assisted strength to lever both blades up and towards Dooku. “Did you think I couldn’t sense your betrayal, apprentice? Did you think I would not feel the warning in the Force?”

Dooku fights to regain his equanimity. He should have let his Master kill Kenobi and stabbed him in the back, as per his original plan. Still, Dooku is an excellent duelist, and Kenobi is alive to be a distraction. All is not yet lost.

Sidious glances at Kenobi, who has scrambled to his feet, his own lightsaber in his left hand. “At least you did me the favor of relieving him of his saber hand, I see. I’ve heard much about the Master of Soresu, but it seems I won’t be seeing him in action.”

Dooku feels his own grasp on the Force slipping, his Master’s superior strength in it winning out. He disengages their blades and spins out of the way. Sidious immediately attacks Kenobi instead, who manages to block the blows left-handed, but is driven back quickly. Instinctively, Dooku moves to intervene, cursing himself for it a moment later.

Sidious lifts his left hand and then lightning forks at both of them, far more powerful than any Dooku has ever managed to create. They both catch it on their blades, but in his weakened state, Kenobi quickly loses his grip. The blue lightsaber is sent spinning across the floor, and Kenobi goes down with a cry, lightning crackling over his skin.

Dooku holds out, grounding the lightning through his saber, but it winds him. Before he can recover, his Master is on him, furiously strong blows battering down his defenses. He clenches his jaw, both outraged and fearing for his life; his Master has been holding back on him. They have sparred, but never has he felt the full strength of the Dark in Sidious. It pulls at him like a tide, sapping his strength. Dooku must not consider the possibility of failure for even a moment, or he will fall.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Kenobi try to struggle to his feet, but fail. Instead, he sits up and holds out his hand and pulls on Sidious’s saber with the Force, letting Dooku finally get an offensive maneuver in. His confidence rises, bolstering his strength in the Force.

Sidious sends another volley of lightning at Kenobi, knocking him back down to the floor, and his relentless offence resumes. While Dooku is still struggling to hold him off, Sidious summons Kenobi’s saber to his hand and attacks with both weapons.

Frantically, Dooku fights to regain control of the battle, but Sidious keeps him on the defensive. With the wall almost at his back, Dooku takes a page out of his former Padawan’s book and vaults over his Master, attacking from behind. Sidious is not caught off guard as he’d hoped, however, and traps Dooku’s blade with the two he’s holding. With a flick, Dooku is disarmed, and two crossed blades hum dangerously close to his neck.

“Master,” he gasps out.

“Traitor,” Sidious snarls.

The two blades flash outward.

Chapter Text

I’ll be the watcher of the eternal flame
I’ll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams
I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass
I try to picture me without you but I can’t
          Immortals – Fall Out Boy

Skywalker and Amidala are the last to arrive. The High Council chamber is much fuller than usual.

Cody is standing in the middle, facing the Jedi Masters arranged around him in a semicircle. Instinct tells him to defer to them, but that isn’t going to work here. So he speaks first. “Thank you for coming, everyone.”

He meets everyone’s eyes in turn. He gets varying reactions from the High Council – affront at his audacity from some, tacit approval from others. Skywalker looks to be hanging by a thread, and Cody guesses that the thread is Amidala, with some aid from Ahsoka. It’s going to have to do. Vos and Ventress are steady, and he mentally marks them as reliable under pressure and therefore useful to him at the moment. Rex is a supportive presence at his back. Bail Organa and Aayla are both seated, still recovering from their ordeals but healthy.

“I believe everyone here is aware Count Dooku has captured General Kenobi?” he checks.

“Very grave, this is,” General Yoda says, and several others nod and murmur amongst themselves. Skywalker’s eyes darken, but don’t turn yellow, at least.

Since there are no exclamations of shock, Cody moves on. “Dooku may question the general, invade his mind, or bring him to Darth Sidious to do so. We have to assume, from here on out, that all our plans will be known to the enemy in a matter of days, if they aren’t known already.”

“Obi-Wan is strong,” General Ti says. “He will not break easily.”

Inside, Cody’s heart is breaking, but there is no time for that. He has to be strong. “General Kenobi has reiterated to me numerous times over the last few months, that he does not believe he can stand against Darth Sidious. I’m not saying he’ll break, but we have to account for the possibility. And that means we need to act now. When the senate convenes tomorrow, we need to have everything in place. As terrible as the circumstances were, confiscating Dooku’s ship has given us the final damning pieces of evidence to nail Palpatine to the wall.”

“But what about Master Kenobi?” Ahsoka asks.

Cody would love to carpet bomb Palpatine’s residence and magically extract Obi-Wan alive and well, but that’s not the reality he lives in. He needs to shut down that line of thinking before someone – especially Skywalker – can start making plans. “The best way to help him now is to defeat the Sith.”

“And if they hold him hostage? Or kill him?” Skywalker demands. “Without Obi-Wan, how are we going to do this? He’s the one who cooked up this whole plan! No disrespect to you, Cody, I know he keeps crediting you, but we all know who is behind–”

“Actually,” Cody interrupts, “That’s not true.” He’s not in this for the glory, and until now he hasn’t cared about the skeptical looks on people’s faces when Obi-Wan says the plan is mostly Cody’s, but now... it matters. Now, he needs their people to keep faith. “Do you know what his original plan was, when he first started this?” He looks at Skywalker. “He was so focused on you and the Sith that all he had planned was to get you away from Coruscant, set me and my brothers on the path to freeing ourselves, and then gather a Jedi strike team to confront Palpatine.”

He straightens, seeing he now has everyone’s attention. “To the senate, that would have just looked like an unprovoked attack. It would have cemented the Jedi as the aggressors in the eyes of the rest of the galaxy. It would have left the Republic facing a Separatist military, completely undefended. And you, Skywalker, would have had nowhere to go. All of that is exactly what the Sith wants.

“I’m the one who made him look at the bigger picture. I made him tell me which people would be important to gather. And where all the battles would take place, so we could try and prevent them and improve the galaxy's view of the Jedi and us clones. I set Skywalker and the Droid Squad to figuring out a way to remove the Separatist forces from the equation. I got General Kenobi to negotiate us a network of supplies and intelligence. I helped him think of ways to gather proof, and expose Palpatine and his plans to the Senate.”

Everyone has fallen silent. Several people are actually gaping at him, which is a little insulting. “I’m not telling you this because I want praise, I’m telling you this so you understand that this plan is bigger than Obi-Wan Kenobi. He may have set things in motion, but we can keep them moving without him.” He looks back at Skywalker. He forces away his apprehension and asks, “Is he still alive?”

Skywalker blinks. “I… yes. I can still feel him.”

Cody nods, looking back out over the rest of them. “Then stop panicking and act like the people Obi-Wan has such faith in. We have to do what he would want us to do,” and he has to pause here to swallow heavily, fighting to keep his expression calm and resolute, “and that is not mounting a hare-brained rescue that could get us all killed. We stick to the plan.”

“Dooku or Palpatine may kill him,” Vos says evenly. “He may threaten to do it in front of us.”

Cody doesn’t think he’s saying it to disagree. It’s more as if he’s trying to help everyone understand what they’re going to have to live with. “I’m aware.”

“You would just let Obi-Wan die?” Skywalker demands.

“I love him,” Cody bites out, and Skywalker falls back a step, eyes wide. Cody doesn’t care anymore who knows or what they think about it. “And I will carry out this plan, because that’s what he would want us to do. Saving the galaxy from the Sith is more important to him than his own life. Whether or not I agree with that, I will honor his wishes.”

There is a long silence. Vos clears his throat. “For the record, I’m with Cody.” He looks pointedly at Skywalker.

“The Council is behind you as well, Commander,” General Windu adds.

“No! How can you all just…” Skywalker trails off and scrubs his hands through his hair, and by the way the Jedi around him are tensing up, Cody guesses his Force presence is doing something alarming. At least he’s not causing earthquakes yet.

“Ani.” Amidala takes hold of Skywalker’s arm and looks up at him.

Skywalker gazes at her for a long moment and then closes his eyes. “I can’t let him–”

“I know, Ani,” Amidala squeezes his arm. “But please, remember what we’re fighting for.” She takes his hand and places it on her stomach, which is… an interesting move. Several people frown, watching it.

Skywalker swallows heavily. “Okay. Okay. We’ll… stick to the plan.”

Cody breathes out a quiet breath. That’s one hurdle dealt with. Time to call Bo-Katan and speak to Fox.

Fox punches Cody in the face, almost breaking his nose. Cody swears, but doesn’t retaliate. He deserved that one, honestly. The Coruscant Guard is currently the most vulnerable corps of all the clones, and Cody hasn’t done a thing about it until now. And he knows how responsible Fox feels for his men. They’re lucky it’s the middle of the night on Coruscant, and they’ve retreated to Fox’s bunk to make this look like an informal meet-up. At least no one is likely to come investigate the commotion.

He waves Rex off, who is holding Fox back from doing worse. Cody kind of wishes now that Rex had been able to speak to Fox first, but there’s been too much upheaval for Rex to get the chance. It’s better that this came from Cody, anyway. “I’m sorry, Fox. But I know you understand why I had to keep you out of it until now.”

“Kriffing – of course I understand, doesn’t mean I can’t be karking furious about it!” Fox sits down heavily on his bunk.

“But you’ll help?” Rex presses.

“Force, Rex, what do you take me for?” Fox grumbles. “Frankly, this is a relief. You have no idea how much all of the Guard hates the senators, and the chancellor in particular. Kriffing bigoted bastards, all of them.” He tilts his head, considering. “Well, almost all of them.”

Cody raises his eyebrows. “I know there are some real shabuire¹ in there…”

“No, you don’t know,” Fox says. “We have to protect that Hutt spawn, and all the while they’re insulting us and ignoring our recommendations for their safety, and then when something goes wrong my men get sent to Kamino for retraining! And we all know what happens there.”

“Fox, we got to Kamino a while ago. Everyone sent back there is safe,” Rex reassures him.

“Well, they’re not safe here. And the chancellor is the worst of them. Smiling while he denies us any rights, assigning the worst of punishment duties while pretending it’s for our own good…”

Cody knew the Guard had it rough, but he hadn’t known just how rough. “You’ve always been pretty rigid in carrying out your duties, though.”

Fox glares at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There’s a whole bunch of brothers holding a grudge or two against you for writing them up for some infraction. I get notices every time we’re on leave on Coruscant.”

“Because it’s my duty. And because it’s the best way to protect our men, yours and mine. Better written up by me than running afoul of some natborn official, or worse, someone in the senate.”

Cody sits down next to him on the bunk and bumps his shoulder against Fox’s. “One way or another, it ends tomorrow, vod².”

Fox sighs. “Yeah. And I don’t get to be there. Shame. I would’ve liked to put a blaster bolt in that kriffer’s head.”

“I’ll try and do it for you,” Cody promises.

Fox nods. “Okay, let’s get this going. We’ll need about three hours to rotate everyone out. Are your men ready?”

Cody smirks. The Triumphant has come home to Coruscant after a successful campaign that afternoon. That neither General Koon nor Wolffe were on it at the time has been carefully kept out of the reports, as well as that the star destroyer held almost twice as many men as it should, the 501^st and 212^th mixing in with the 104^th. “Ready when you are.”

“Nice shiner, Commander.”

Cody wishes he’d kept his bucket on when convening with General Windu.

“Thank you, sir, I’ll wear it with pride. Where are we on the evacuation?”

“The first ships have left, with Padawan Tano and Knight Secura piloting,” Windu says. “Boba Fett is an interesting addition to the evacuation team. He has a lot of ideas about how to sneak people in and out of places.”

Cody shrugs. “Well, the kid has been hanging around bounty hunters all his life.” He hesitates, but he has to do this at some point. “General? I apologize for my actions this morning, sir. I deliberately ignored the chain of command.”

Windu raises an eyebrow at him. “Do I strike you as the type of person that would keep my mouth shut if I had a problem with your actions, Commander?”

Cody blinks. “No, sir.”

“Then shut up and do the job Obi-Wan appointed you, Marshal Commander.”

Cody swallows. He’s been pushing Obi-Wan’s situation to the back of his mind, because if he didn’t, the fear and helplessness would drown him. He might lose his general tomorrow.

He might have already lost him.

That makes it all the more imperative to carry out Obi-Wan’s wishes and get the Sith that sits at the heart of the senate, poisoning everyone and everything. Cody straightens his spine. “Yes, sir. It’s time to send the signal.”

Windu claps him on the back. “Let’s get going, then.”

Glossary

1. Shabuire: supposedly ‘jerks, but stronger’, but we all know this means motherfuckers [↑]
2. Vod: brother (I probably don’t need to translate this one anymore, do I? [↑]

Chapter Text

Glory and gore go hand in hand
That’s why we’re making headlines
You could try and take us
But victory’s contagious
         Glory and Gore – Lorde

Darth Sidious is not easily impressed, but he has to admit, if reluctantly: Kenobi is managing it. He’s pushed through boundary after boundary, razed through one mindscape after another, and he still hasn’t reached the heart of Master Kenobi’s mind. It’s frustrating, yet intriguing.

The power of a Force user grows the longer they practice, the better they know themselves and the Force. The mind he is in now doesn’t strike him as that of a Jedi who only recently achieved his Mastery, but one much older and much more refined. The barriers are like shifting sand, not walling him out, but confusing him, trapping him, showing him everything but that which he wishes to know.

He pulls his mind free, watching Kenobi desperately trying to regain his breath.
“Master Jedi, I admit it’s a unique pleasure for me to cause you so much pain, but there’s really no need to put yourself through this.” He’s been drawing out his mental attack, feeding his power with Kenobi’s pain, but it’s about time he got some results.

“I’m not putting myself through anything,” Kenobi gasps, voice raw from screaming. “You are. I really expected better from you than the you are making me do this excuse.” He levers himself up on his elbows.

Sidious sends another volley of lightning dancing over his skin to force him back down. It’s been a delicate balance, keeping Kenobi weakened and unable to defend himself, yet alive. This particular Jedi is known for his wily escapes, after all. It was already risky to move him from the LiMerge Building to the panic room behind his office. Well, it was a panic room once, now it’s where he keeps his projects when he needs them close by while he’s working. The thick, beskar-reinforced walls are very useful to keep anyone from hearing the screaming.

When the electricity stops crackling and Kenobi’s cries have died down, he asks again, as he has been for the past few hours, “Tell me where you got your information. Who told you of my identity?” He knows much of what Kenobi has been doing these past few months, thanks to the Droid Information Collection and Knowledge bill letting him legally monitor comm traffic. Yet he’s still in the dark about what made Kenobi suddenly break ranks.

Kenobi’s breath shudders out in a laugh. “The Force,” he says, as he has also been doing the past few hours. A ridiculous lie, as Sidious has been clouding the Force for decades, and he would have known if his spell had failed. But the Jedi persists with it.

“So obstinate,” Sidious says, shaking his head. He recommences his mental attack, approaching from a different angle this time. A common thread throughout Kenobi’s mental barriers has been his love for his former Padawan. Unusually prominent, for a Jedi Master. A weakness? “You do know I have been working on destabilizing Anakin for years,” he mentions as he works his way deeper. “Uprooting his trust in you and in the Order, amplifying his emotions, poisoning his thoughts. By now, he is ripe for the picking. When it comes to a choice, he will choose me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Kenobi grits out, his mental landscape shifting from a dark, overgrown jungle to an ocean with treacherous depths, unseen creatures swimming by in the murk and threatening any intruder. “His eyes have been opened these last few months.”

Sidious backs off again. He’d suspected Kenobi had been working to turn Anakin against him, but the confirmation is useful. Whether it’s true or not remains to be seen, but if Anakin’s loyalty to his former Master has been rekindled, that is still something he can utilize.

While he has been musing, Kenobi has closed his eyes and sunk into meditation, his Force signature fading rapidly.

Sidious growls. Not this again. He holds out a hand, directing the Force to squeeze Kenobi’s ribcage to the edge of breaking. Kenobi chokes on an aborted inhale and his eyes spring open.

“Stop that,” Sidious hisses. He doesn’t know who taught Kenobi to meditate himself to death, but it’s been extremely inconvenient. Normally when he tortures someone, he doesn’t have to continually work to save their lives as well. He truly can’t fathom someone being that willing to die, but then, such is the way of the Jedi, always sacrificing themselves for something. It’s what makes them so weak and easily exploited.

He checks his chrono. The senate will convene soon, and he’ll have to postpone this. A pity. He’d hoped to have gotten further by now. He keeps up the squeeze of Kenobi’s ribs, delightedly watching him fight to catch a full breath. Being deprived of oxygen makes the survival instinct kick in, the fight or flight reflex. It’s one thing to peacefully will yourself to death, and quite another to stop the body from trying to you alive. Sidious holds the squeeze until Kenobi loses consciousness.

He feels the Jedi’s body struggling to hold on, the heart fluttering weakly after repeated electrocution, but it still beats. He adds a powerful sleep suggestion. It will wear off at some point, especially in a Jedi with such mental fortitude, but it should keep him under a little longer than he otherwise might be.

Sidious activates the specially programmed interrogation droid in the corner. “Watch him, and should he wake and make any attempt to leave, drug him. If his heartbeat slows beyond forty-five beats per minute, electrocute him, but keep him alive.” That should keep even Kenobi trapped for the duration of the senate session.

The Force swirls ominously as the iris above his office opens, and his podium rises into the senate chamber. Sidious takes it in, listening to its warning. He watches as Bail Organa enters his own pod, accompanied by several Jedi, including Anakin.

He supposes it was too much to hope for that this rebellion would peter out on its own once Kenobi was taken out of the equation. Clearly the conspirators have decided to make their move. He’s unsurprised to see Organa is listed to speak first on the agenda.

It’s tempting to simply refuse, but ultimately, that would be useless. They would only force the issue, and it would make him look suspicious.

Time to get this started, then. “The chair recognizes Senator Organa of Alderaan.”

Organa wastes no time. “Delegates of the senate, I come before you with terrible news. We have been deceived!” Comms chime all over the senate simultaneously. “All of you have just received evidence, gathered by a group of brave individuals, proving that the war which has been tearing our galaxy apart is a ruse. The Separatists army and our own were funded by the same individual, a Hego Damask II of Muunilinst, who also sponsored the career of our illustrious leader, Chancellor Palpatine.”

Sidious grits his teeth, taking care not to displace his smile. What a time for his dead Master to enact his revenge. It’s almost regrettable Darth Plagueis hadn’t quite cracked the secret of immortality before he died; Sidious would have enjoyed killing him a few times more.

“Furthermore, you will find a written confession by that same man, describing how he and Chancellor Palpatine planned to use the war to put the Chancellor in a position of ultimate authority, beyond any accountability. And has it not accomplished just that? How many emergency powers has the Chancellor not seized since the start of the war?”

“This is preposterous!” Senator Lott Dod of the Trade Federation exclaims. “We have voted on those emergency powers ourselves. They were freely given.”

“There is more,” Organa barrels over him. “Comm logs included in the evidence show that the Chancellor has been in contact with the Separatist leader, Count Dooku, since even before the war began.”

There is more of an uproar, and the tide is beginning to turn. Sidious can see that his supporters are still arguing on his behalf, but there are more voices of dissent now.

Organa speaks over the din. “Finally, the evidence shows that Chancellor Palpatine is a Dark Lord of the Sith!”

“The Sith have been dead for centuries!” Mas Amedda argues loudly, barely making himself heard. “These charges are outrageous.”

“The return of the Sith to our galaxy has been confirmed as far as ten years ago, during the crisis of Naboo.” Organa gestures to the Jedi beside him. “These representatives of the Jedi Order have accompanied me to arrest the Chancellor and bring him to justice.”

Sidious calmly waits out the outcry, gently holding up a hand until there is silence. “Senator Organa,” he says, carefully balancing his tone between bemused and frail, “I don’t quite know what to say to defend myself against such outlandish accusations. If I may… from what you are telling us, this evidence of yours rests entirely on the written confession of one person, who is not here today?”

Curiously, it’s the clone beside Organa who answers the question. “Hego Damask II is dead.”

The armor marks this clone as Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard. He’s been nothing but loyal until now. Once this is over with, Sidious will have to arrange something very special for him.

Sidious raises his eyebrows, the picture of baffled innocence. “Then this man could claim anything. The financial records you mention only seem to prove that he funded several political ventures. Surely I am not responsible for the actions of my backers. And how would I go about proving that I’m not a… a Sith, precisely?”

“And how do you explain the comm logs taken from Count Dooku’s ship, showing your communications with him?” Master Windu asks.

That is indeed unfortunate. If Dooku were still alive, Sidious would have punished him severely for such a mistake. “He is the leader of the Confederacy. It stands to reason he would have a stake in destabilizing our government. It seems clear to me that this evidence was planted for you to find.”

There is a murmur among the senators. For a moment, Sidious thinks he has them.

Then Senator Danu for Kuat speaks up. “This is not a court of law. These are serious charges, and they deserve thorough investigation. If the Chancellor is indeed being set up by the Separatists, a proper examination of the evidence will show that. If Senator Organa is correct, there must be a trial. Until then, the proper course of action is plain: you must step down, Chancellor, even if only temporarily.”

Sidious seethes. How dare they? There is only one avenue left, as a proper investigation will only worsen this situation. “Very well. You are all traitors,” he growls. He opens his direct commlink to all clone commanders. “The time has come. Execute order sixty-eight.” One of his favorite contingency orders: kill all the Jedi and secure the Chancellor’s safety.

There is a dead silence. Sidious looks around the senate, his eyes picking out the red marked armor of the Coruscant Guard. The civilian comm traffic he’s been monitoring has warned him of the possibility that the clones who have disappeared from the GAR might have been divested of the behavioral modification chips. Knowing that, he’s kept a very close eye on the Guard. None of them should be able to resist his order.

“I’m sorry,” the clone next to Organa says, taking off his helmet and revealing a familiar scar curving around his eye, “was that meant to do something?”

Understanding hits immediately. It’s a trick. They’ve managed to swap the clones of the Guard with those clones who disappeared with Kenobi, exchanging armor. Sidious bares his teeth in rage. They may think they have him, but he is not finished yet. Just because he assumed the Coruscant Guard was still his, doesn’t mean he didn’t take care to have a backup plan. He presses another button on his comm and then spreads his arms in invitation. “Very well then, Jedi. Arrest me, if you can.”

His podium begins to sink down, and he can see Masters Windu, Mundi, Fisto and even Anakin prepare to jump from their pod to him. Then the screams start.

Sidious watches in satisfaction as hundreds of spider assassin droids start to swarm the rotunda, targeting the senators at random. The senators are panicking, trying to get to an exit. Several fall from their pods trying to escape the droids. This should keep the Jedi occupied.

Commander Cody lifts his vambrace and shouts into his comm, “Bo-Katan, Rex! Now!”
To Sidious’s utter surprise, the rotunda is suddenly flooded with Mandalorian warriors and clones in several colors of armor, working together surprisingly smoothly to destroy the assassin droids.

His podium reaches the floor and stutters to a halt before it can sink through it into his office. Sidious can feel the Force holding it in place. He follows the thread of it to the senate floor, and hisses in fury. Master Yoda stands there, eyes closed, his hand held out, halting the podium’s descent by sheer force of will.

Sidious holds out his own hand, intending to counteract Yoda, but then a figure lands on the console in front of him, purple lightsaber lit.

“You’d best surrender, Darth Sidious,” Windu says, “you’re outnumbered.”

Sidious laughs, drawing power from the chaos around him. It’s heady as nectarwine. “Allow me to show you the true power of the Dark side, Jedi, and you will understand why your numbers don’t matter.”

And he gathers his hatred into a volley of lightning that lights up the entire rotunda. It strikes wildly, leaping from pod to pod, causing several to explode. The screams intensify.

Windu jumps down to his level, and Sidious meets his lightsaber with his own. Mundi attacks from behind, so he spins with Force-assisted speed, slicing through the Jedi’s neck like butter. Windu manages to jump out of the way, which is a pity. Fisto meets him next, and Sidious darts in low, relieving the Nautolan of a leg and some head tendrils. The Jedi goes down with a cry, creating an opening for Sidious to exit the podium. He sends another barrage of lightning, hitting Fisto first, but letting it cascade out towards the other Jedi. Most catch it on their sabers, but not all.

Then Yoda is on him, the tiny green Master whirling through the air with unexpected speed. Their sabers meet again and again in an exchange of blows so fast it’s all Sidious can do to keep up. For the first time, he begins to worry. He gathers his own anger and the hysterical fear of those senators who have not yet escaped, and releases more lightning, throwing Yoda back hard against one of the pods. Yoda slumps to the ground, his body going still.

A cry of rage behind him has him turning just in time to intercept Anakin’s blade. Anakin’s blue eyes are furious, yellow simmering in their depths. Sidious’s heart lifts to see it.
“How could you!” Anakin hammers his lightsaber down on Sidious’s own. “You son of a Hutt! You made me think you were my friend!”

His wrath is a marvel, so beautiful to see it makes Sidious smile, even as he holds off the boy’s furious blows. “I am your friend, Anakin. I am the only one who wants you to reach your full potential.”

Anakin releases a wordless cry of fury, the Force around him lashing out with both Light and Dark. Several pods in the vicinity explode with it, and Sidious laughs delightedly.

“Skywalker, control yourself!” Windu has caught up with them and joins the fight.

He’s a formidable foe. Sidious works to keep the incandescently angry Anakin between them, fouling Windu’s excellent bladework.

“I have your Master, Anakin,” he says, low enough to keep it between them. He can see it giving Anakin pause, his saber halting. “Don’t you want him to live? Kill me, and you’ll never find him.”

They’d probably find Kenobi quite easily, but Anakin has always been easy to lead on. His eyes widen, and he shoves Windu backwards with a powerful Force push. “Where is he? What did you do with Obi-Wan?”

Sidious cackles and takes the opportunity, racing back towards the podium and slamming the button to lower it. He has to deflect a number of blaster bolts from the clones, who seem to have noticed that most of the Jedi are out of commission. But now that Yoda is no longer holding the podium in place, it sinks down smoothly, putting Sidious out of reach of the blaster fire.

Just before the iris cycles closed above Sidious’s head, Anakin jumps through. Sidious clenches a fist and crumples the mechanism the moment Anakin is safely on the ground.

Then they are alone, just as Sidious had hoped.

Chapter Text

This is the start of how it all ends
They used to shout my name
Now they whisper it
         Yellow Flicker Beat – Lorde

Anakin holds himself at the ready, his saber humming in his hand. He’s so angry he can taste it. “Where is he?”

Palpatine is smiling again. Anakin wants to wipe that smile off his face. “My dear boy. Why are you so angry with me? I have only ever tried to help you.”

“Liar! You’ve been deceiving me this whole time! What have you done with Obi-Wan?” He lunges to attack, but Palpatine merely backs swiftly out of range, not engaging.

“Anakin, I would never deceive you. Haven’t I always been there for you?”

Anakin scoffs. “You’ve lied about so many things. The war, for one!” He makes another advance with his saber, and again Palpatine dances out of the way.

“There was always going to be a war. You yourself told me many times how the inequality in the galaxy grieved you.” Palpatine sounds so persuasive. “You are not the only one who felt that way. Such sentiments boil over eventually. The war was necessary to help restore order.”

“Stop lying!” Anakin shoves him back with a Force push. “You pretended to be my friend, but you’re a Sith!”

“And why couldn’t I be both?” Palpatine shakes his head sadly, unruffled by the shove. “The Jedi view the world so simplistically. The Sith are not evil, Anakin. They are free. Free of the chains of duty and obedience that have kept you constrained all your life. Look at you, finally letting your emotions have free reign! Doesn’t it feel good? Isn’t it glorious? You’re magnificent!”

It does feel good, it feels amazing… But isn’t that exactly what Obi-Wan has been warning him about these last few months? That he should be mindful of what his emotions lead him to do?

Well, right now his anger is making him want to kill Palpatine, no, Darth Sidious, and that sounds like a great idea, but he can’t do it yet. He still has no idea what’s happened to his Master. The thought that he may no longer be alive makes his stomach clench, but no – he can feel Obi-Wan, still. Faintly, but there. He just needs to find him. “You’re trying to manipulate me. It’s not going to work.”

Sidious laughs. “I’m trying to help you become what you are meant to be. You are the Chosen One, aren’t you? And the Jedi fear you, they always have. They fear the power you wield, so they’ve tried to control you, keep you small and obedient your whole life. The Sith Code teaches this:

 “Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
 Through passion, I gain strength.
 Through strength, I gain power.
 Through power, I gain victory.
 Through victory, my chains are broken.
 The Force shall free me.”

Sidious holds out a hand to him. “I only want to break your chains, Anakin.”

Anakin shudders. Not so long ago, those words might have rung true to him. Now his eyes are open. He levels his saber at Sidious again. “Where is Obi-Wan?”

Sidious sighs. “Very well. Give me your lightsaber, and I’ll take you to him.”

“Do you think I’m that stupid?”

Anakin attacks again, and this time Sidious’s blade crashes against his. Anakin hammers his blade down repeatedly, backed by the Force, but Sidious meets him blow for blow. Each meeting of their blades makes the office around them tremble.

Anakin is confident in his dueling ability, but he soon begins to realize he may be outclassed. He has always been able to rely on superior speed and strength in saber fights, the Force helping him exceed his physical limits, but Sidious feels at the same level of strength, and his skill outstrips Anakin’s. His parries lead into clever ripostes that sneak under Anakin’s guard, earning him several shallow burns in a matter of minutes.

Anakin finds himself backing up through the office, working frantically to hold Sidious off. It’s only a matter of time before he trips over the stairs leading to the chancellor’s desk, landing on his back, Sidious’s blade pressing against his own.

The crackle of the blades comes closer and closer to Anakin’s neck, and he inches away. He can’t lose here, Obi-Wan’s life depends on him. With a desperate rallying of strength, he manages to push Sidious back.

Then his blade is ripped from his hands, and Sidious’s red saber hums at his throat, the heat almost searing his skin. Anakin holds up his hands, breathing hard, waiting for the final blow. It doesn’t come.

Sidious backs up, turning off his lightsaber. He summons Anakin’s fallen lightsaber to his hand and crumples it, despite Anakin’s cry of protest. “There, my boy. Perhaps now we can have a civilized discussion.”

Anakin tries to catch his breath, frozen in place by the shock of his defeat. With him, Obi-Wan is lost, too. “I’m never going to join you.”

“No?” Sidious presses a button under his desk, and a panel on the far wall slides away to reveal a hidden passageway. “We will see about that.”

He moves across the office and heads into the passageway, not looking back. After a moment of hesitation, Anakin gets up and follows him.

A familiar presence blooms in his mind. “Obi-Wan!”

He speeds up his pace, entering a chamber he’s never seen before. He doesn’t take the time to study the opulent furniture or the polished marble floor, or even the menacing looking droid in the corner, because his eyes are drawn immediately to Sidious and the crumpled figure he is standing over.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin breathes.

Before he can rush over, Sidious lights his blade again, pointing it at the still form on the floor. “Stop there, Anakin.”

Anakin halts. He tries to think, to come up with some sort of plan, but his mind whirls uselessly. “What did you do to him? Why isn’t he waking up?”

“He is injured, but he can still be healed,” Sidious says, moving the blade a little further from Obi-Wan’s neck. “If you really care for him that much, he can be my gift to you. But only if you join me.”

So, that’s the ultimatum and the end of the helpful mentor act. Anakin feels his rage well up again, and the light directly over him explodes in a rain of sparks. “Never!”

Sidious smiles shrewdly. “Never? That means your former Master will suffer for a very long time.”

He holds out a hand and Force lightning arcs out, jolting Obi-Wan’s body. Obi-Wan’s eyes fly open and he cries out.

“Stop!” Anakin yells, frantic, but not daring to approach and force Sidious’s hand.

The lightning dies off, and Obi-Wan slumps back to the floor. He groans and rolls over onto his side, pressing up on an elbow and lifting his head to search the room. “Anakin!”

“Obi-Wan, are you all right?” Anakin rakes his eyes over his Master. He’s clearly weak, he’s missing a hand, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days. Anakin’s rage rises again at the clear signs Sidious has been torturing him and he desperately fights it down. “It’s going to be okay,” he tries to reassure.

Sidious lifts his saber to hover under Obi-Wan’s chin. Obi-Wan tenses, freezing in place. “Do you want him to live, Anakin?”

Anakin stands immobilized. Obi-Wan is the clever one with words; he would know how to talk himself out of this situation. All Anakin has is his desperation and the Force. “Please,” he grits out.

“Then join me. Swear yourself to me as my apprentice, and you may have your former Master.” Sidious’s voice turns gentle again. “I know that once you let yourself feel it, you will embrace the Dark. You will be so powerful, beyond your wildest imaginings.”

“Don’t, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, despite the blade threatening his vulnerable throat.

Anakin shuts his eyes tightly in despair. “I can’t… I can’t let you die, Master.”

“I’m waiting, Anakin.” Sidious moves the blade closer, and Anakin can hear the sizzle as it singes Obi-Wan’s skin.

Obi-Wan hisses, trying to flinch away, but Sidious holds him in place with the Force.

Anakin’s eyes are burning. “Okay! All right! Just don’t… don’t kill him.”

Sidious smiles, slow and lazy, as if he’d known all along it would end like this. He retracts the lightsaber, hanging it on his belt. “Excellent choice, my boy.”

“Anakin, please–” Obi-Wan chokes as another volley of lightning dances over his skin, limbs twitching.

“Stop! Please!” Anakin rushes further into the room, but Sidious holds up a hand, and it’s like running into a wall of the Force.

“That is far enough. Swear yourself to me.”

Anakin can feel the tears running down his face, but makes no move to stop them. “If I do, you won’t just turn around and kill him anyway? You’ll let him live?”

“I won’t harm a hair on his head,” Sidious says, threading his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair and pulling up his head cruelly. “I’m not sure why you’re suddenly so attached to him. Wasn’t he always holding you back, belittling you, mocking you? His regard for you always came with conditions.” He releases Obi-Wan suddenly enough that his head crashes against the floor, eliciting a gasp. “But once you are sworn to me, I will reward you, Anakin. You will have everything you always wanted. Nothing you could do will change my esteem for you.”

Anakin swallows. He knows what he would be giving up if he said yes, but watching Obi-Wan die is not an option either. What is he supposed to do? Why can’t he ever keep those he loves safe? “Padmé, and–” he instinctively cuts himself off before he can mention the baby, Sidious mustn’t know about that, “–and the clones? You won’t hurt them, either?”

“I grow tired of these negotiations, Anakin.” Sidious walks away from Obi-Wan.

“Anakin! Remember the cost!” Obi-Wan has pushed himself up on his good arm, forehead bleeding. “Please. I would rather die than see you Fall.”

Sidious throws out a hand and clenches it, and Obi-Wan’s voice cuts off again. He reaches for his throat, gasping for breath. “Open yourself to the Dark and swear yourself, and you will have everything. You could heal him, make him whole again. Your wife, your men, you can give them all that they deserve. Delay any longer, and you lose it all.”

“Stop! Let him breathe.”

He needs to end this. Anakin remembers his time on Korriban. He remembers the whispers of the Dark Lords of the Sith in their tombs, the things they tried to teach him in the short time he could hear them. He kneels before Sidious, and takes a deep breath.

There are many ways to touch the Dark side, he’s learned. Fear, anger, even grief. But hatred – that’s the easiest one. He lifts his head to look Sidious in the eyes, and focuses on his loathing. It’s an emotion that still comes unsettlingly easy for him. The Darkness laps at his senses, promising unlimited power. The temperature around them lowers.

Sidious is riveted, releasing his hold on Obi-Wan. “Yes,” he hisses. “Let it in.”

Anakin can hear Obi-Wan gulping in air. He tries to gasp Anakin’s name, though it’s barely audible.

As Sidious comes to stand directly before him, Anakin, for the first time in his life, deliberately touches the Dark. No, that’s not entirely true; for the first time, he lets himself acknowledge that it was always there with him. He opens himself up to it. It feels like a rush through his system, giving him all the strength he needs. “Master,” he says.

Sidious smiles wider. “Yes, my apprentice. Swear your loyalty to me, and only me.” He’s leaning in, drawn in by his fascination. Close enough to touch.

Do or do not, there is no try. There can be no room for failure in his mind.

Sidious is so enraptured that he doesn’t notice Anakin wrapping a tendril of Darkness around the lightsaber at Sith’s waist. He yanks at it, and the saber smacks into his hand. He can hear it scream as he turns it on, the crystal inside corrupted beyond all recognition, yet as wrapped in Darkness as Anakin is right now, it feels good.

Sidious’s eyes widen, and he starts to lift a hand, but the Dark fuels Anakin’s speed, and this time, he is faster. He plunges the red blade into Sidious’s heart.

The Sith’s mouth opens. Anakin gives him no chance to speak, hatred still boiling out of him. He pulls the blade up through the chest and into Sidious’s throat, and watches him die without a sound.

Darkness seems to explode out of the body as it crumples to the floor. Anakin fights to push it away from himself. He focuses again on his hate: he hates so much, so completely, that to let Sidious win even the slightest bit is abhorrent. So he tries to push his own Darkness away with it.

It doesn’t want to go. He panics, which only feeds the Dark. This wasn’t the plan. It’s no longer whispering that he hears; it’s shouting. The Dark tells him he needs this strength: what couldn’t he do with this power? He could remake the galaxy according to his own wishes. No more slavery, no more corruption, only order… Is it the Dark wondering these things, or is it him? He doesn’t even know anymore.

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan has crawled over to him. His eyes are feverish; blood is still running down one side of his face.

Anakin knows his own eyes must be yellow, and he waits for the condemnation. The Dark tells him that he might be better off without Obi-Wan, who will only turn away from him and betray him now that he has embraced the Dark. There is no coming back from this. Maybe he would be better off without the Jedi altogether…

All the shouting ceases as Obi-Wan’s arms come around him.

“Anakin. Will you come back to me? You did it before.” Obi-Wan rests his forehead against Anakin’s collarbone with no sign of fear or distrust.

Anakin looks down at his auburn hair, wide-eyed. “You should want to kill me,” he whispers. “I’ve Fallen.”

Obi-Wan only holds him tighter. “I have never been able to kill you, and I never will. You’re my brother, my best friend, my Padawan. I love you. Even when you had done the worst things I could imagine, I loved you.”

“But… I’ve Fallen,” Anakin repeats. He’s not quite sure what to do with his arms, so he folds them around Obi-Wan in return. The Dark and the Light churn around them both.

“So get back up.” Obi-Wan says. As if it’s that simple. Anakin is still staring down at him dumbfounded when he continues, “If you could do it quickly, that would be helpful. I don’t think I have much longer.”

Somehow, the familiar sarcastic tone in the midst of all this reaches him where nothing else would. He eases Obi-Wan to the floor and tries to open himself to the Light, but the panic, fear, paranoia, hatred, anger… it all swirls inside and around him, feeding the Dark while the Dark feeds the emotions. “I can’t,” he chokes. “I don’t know how.”

“You can,” Obi-Wan says, steady even as his hands tremble with weakness. “Remember? Breathe, take a step back, examine your feelings. Decide what you want to do with them. Let go of what isn’t helpful.”

Anakin takes a breath, closing his eyes. Stepping back is not really an option, at the moment, but he takes a moment to acknowledge all the emotions the Dark is echoing back at him. He’s a little surprised to find it’s not all Darkness. Even terrified and angry, there is room in him for love and hope. Sidious is dead. Padmé is safe. Obi-Wan is still alive – but for how much longer? – and he says he still loves him. Your focus determines your reality. He breathes out, focuses on the love, the hope, and opens his eyes.

Obi-Wan looks at him and smiles. “Your eyes are blue.”

“Stay with me, Master,” Anakin pleads. “We’ll get you help.” Mentally he searches for any Force sensitive mind nearby, but it’s difficult to muster up the necessary concentration. Light and Dark are warring for his attention.

“It’s okay,” Obi-Wan says. “I’ve done what I came to do.”

Anakin swallows hard. “It was never a vision, was it? You… you came back, somehow.”

Obi-Wan nods. “For this. For you.”

Anakin shakes him a little. “Did I Fall, in… in the other life you lived?”

“Yes.” It hurts, but it’s no surprise, not now. “For much longer and much further. But I saw you come back to the Light; not because someone defeated you, but because someone loved you. And I knew what we’d been doing wrong the whole time.” Obi-Wan’s eyes slip closed. Under Anakin’s hand, the heartbeat is fast and erratic, the chest moving up and down with shallow breaths.

“Master!” Anakin reaches out again with his mind and blasts a call for help to any Force Sensitive in the vicinity. At his current strength, the vicinity is probably the entirety of Coruscant. Surely someone will come. “Don’t leave.”

“It’s all right, Anakin. I’ve fulfilled my purpose.”

“No, it was my purpose,” Anakin says, tears sliding down his cheeks again. “I was meant to bring balance to the Force, right? As the Chosen One? You’ve still got plenty of things to do. Obi-Wan, stay with me.”

Obi-Wan frowns, opening his eyes a little. “You’re not done. It was never about killing the Sith. Bringing balance to the Force isn’t about killing people. Don’t you feel it?”

Anakin looks at him blankly. “Feel what?”

“It’s about balancing the Force… in you.” He touches Anakin’s face, wiping a tear away. His hand is shaking. “Child of the Force. You’ll get there.” His eyes close again. Anakin feels his heartbeat stutter.

“Master!” Anakin holds onto the Light by the skin of his teeth, but the Dark roils at a distance. Not gone. Maybe it will never be entirely gone from him now.

And finally, he hears footsteps coming down the corridor.

Chapter Text

I won’t be the one you always run to
You’ll never have to
I put it out there all on the table
Take it or leave it, but my offer’s stable like the moon
          Essence of Us – Emilie Adams

Cody is drifting on the rhythmic exhales next to him. He tries to shake himself awake. The Healer has tried to chase him out twice now, and if he falls asleep she might convince Rex to remove him. Or worse, Skywalker might to try steal his spot.

He hears footsteps in the hall, and rouses himself, sitting up straighter. Ahsoka’s head peaks around the doorway.

“Hey, Cody.” She comes in, looking down at the still form on the bed. “How is he?”

Cody looks down as well, taking in the beloved features, willing there to be movement beyond the rise and fall of Obi-Wan’s chest. “Stable. The Healers are hopeful.”

Ahsoka lays a hand on Obi-Wan’s arm. “How long has it been since you slept?”

Cody sets his jaw. “I’m fine. Is everyone settled back in the Temple?” Before the battle, Boba, Ahsoka and Aayla had helped evacuate those too young or too weak to risk in the fighting. He had heard they were coming back, but he hasn’t been keeping up on the news. His focus is here, in this room, and with his brothers.

Ahsoka nods. “But they’re debating on whether everyone should stay. Being so concentrated here… it made us vulnerable.”

That makes sense. The Temple is a giant target to those who mean the Jedi harm. “And what about you? If Skywalker leaves the Order, you’re short of a Master.”

She bites her lip, looking down at Obi-Wan. “When Obi-Wan wakes, maybe I’ll ask him.”

Cody musters up a smile for her. “I’m sure he’d love that.”

“Do you want me to sit with him for a while?” she offers. “You could get some rest.”

He has to stop himself from biting her head off in response. She’s done nothing to deserve it and she doesn’t know that people have been extending that offer for days. “I’m fine, honestly.”

She sighs. “Okay.” She closes her eyes briefly, and he guesses she’s doing something in the Force, maybe extending empathic well-wishes. “Don’t forget to eat something at some point.”

With that, she leaves, allowing Cody to sink back into his near-doze. He’s a soldier; he can sleep anywhere if he chooses to. As long as he can hear Obi-Wan’s breathing, he’s good.

All thoughts of sleep disappear when he feels Obi-Wan’s hand twitch under his own. He scoots closer to the bed.

“General?” He keeps his voice hushed in deference to the late hour. “Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes flutter and blink open. His gaze is immediately drawn to Cody, and he smiles sleepily.

“Hey,” Cody says.

Obi-Wan croaks something and coughs. Cody hands him a cup of water.

“Sidious is dead,” he reports, because it’s the first thing he would want to know in such a situation.

Obi-Wan’s eyes sharpen. After taking a shaky sip, he tries again. “A’kin?”

Cody takes the cup back before it tips over. “Skywalker is alive. And he’s got blue eyes.”

Obi-Wan sighs and closes his eyes for a moment, relaxing. “Wasn’t for n’thing.”

Cody squeezes his hand. “No, sir.” He clears his throat when it tries to close on him.

He feels Obi-Wan squeeze back. “Casualties?” His voice is gaining strength.

“A number of senators. General Mundi. General Fisto lost a leg and got electrocuted, but the Healers think he’ll live. Most of the other Jedi have bumps and bruises, but they’ll be okay. General Yoda was unconscious for a bit, but he woke up a while ago. Master Koon is on the mend.” Cody drops his eyes, swallowing back his grief. “Several of my brothers lost their lives. A number of others are still here in the Halls of Healing, but it looks like they’ll pull through. Oh, and…here.” Cody lays Obi-Wan’s lightsaber on the bedside table. He tries not to, but his eyes drop to Obi-Wan’s right arm against his will.

“Ah.” Obi-Wan smiles ruefully. “Another casualty. Happened days ago. Dooku. Thank you for finding my saber.”

Cody knew what had happened, because he’d heard it from Organa, but he still blinks away tears. Will he ever get to see his general in his full glory again, lightsaber flashing around him like a living thing?

“Don’t worry, my dear. I’m sure Anakin will craft me a beautiful prosthesis, now that we match.” Obi-Wan’s thumb caresses the back of his hand, and Cody’s breath catches a little. “Cody, you did it, you won the war for us. I’m so grateful. There were always going to be sacrifices. This is such a minor one.”

It isn’t, and yet it is, because at least Obi-Wan is still alive. Cody clears his throat. “The senate is in chaos. Vice Chancellor Mas Amedda was almost acting chancellor before the extent of his involvement with Sidious’s plans came to light. The senate has now voted the Kuat Senator, Giddean Danu, into office as acting chancellor, with Bail Organa as vice chancellor.”

“The Clone Rights Bill…?” Obi-Wan’s eyes shine with hope.

“They pushed it through this morning. We are now officially a sovereign people with citizens’ rights. They’re a little confused on what to do about a people without a planet, but we’ll figure it out. The Trade Federation did, after all.”

Obi-Wan smiles so brightly Cody feels his heart skip a beat. “I’m so happy for you, Cody.”

“Fox, Neyo and I were voted in as representatives. They gave me the position of First Representative.” Cody shrugs. “Guess we’re not quite ready to let go of the military hierarchy.”

“To be fair, the marshal commanders do have the most experience in leading a large number of people,” Obi-Wan says.

“We’re rotating the positions out in three years. Eventually I’ll get some rest.”

“I can’t wait to see what you’ll accomplish.” Obi-Wan’s eyes crinkle. “You can do anything you want, now.”

There’s only one thing Cody really wants. He breathes out a shuddering breath. “I thought I’d lost you. More than once. You had surgery, were in a bacta tank for twenty-four hours, and then unconscious for thirty-seven hours more, and they didn’t know if you’d make it.” He meets Obi-Wan’s eyes and steels himself. “I thought I’d never get to tell you how I feel.”

The general flinches and tries to pull his hand back, but Cody can’t let him yet. “I wouldn’t have said anything before. Chain of command; you’re a Jedi… But the war is over now. We get to think about… after.”

Obi-Wan is staring fixedly at their joined hands. “Cody–”

“Tell me you don’t feel anything for me and I’ll never mention it again,” Cody rushes to interrupt. “We’ll go back to how it was. I just thought, a few times… But I know how you feel about Duchess Satine.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head minutely. “Cody… I’ve lost and grieved Satine once. That door is already closed, but–”

Cody can’t let him finish. “Don’t… don’t give me some banthashit about how it’s better for us if we don’t do anything about this. I know you. You won’t let yourself have anything because you convince yourself you don’t deserve it. But you do.” He clenches his jaw. “You do, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan licks his lips. “You’re thirteen, Cody.”

Cody fights not to swear at him. “Species age differently. A number means nothing.”

“Very well. Developmentally you are perhaps twenty-six when compared to a regular human. The point stands.”

Cody drops his hand and sits back in the chair. His fists clench so tight he can feel his nails cut into his palm. “You never told me how old you are now.” Skywalker can’t keep his mouth shut, and the story about time travel is spreading fast. But Cody’s known all along that his general had changed far more than a vision would account for.

Obi-Wan quirks a smile. “Bit of a complicated question, really.”

“How long you’ve lived, then.”

“Even that’s a bit complicated. I spent some time as a… a ghost, you see, before I found myself… now.”

A ghost. Sure, why not. Cody fantasizes about throwing the cup of water in his general’s face. “You’re a High Jedi General. I’m sure you’ve learned how to estimate.”

Obi-Wan sighs. “Fifty-eight to sixty-three, I suppose, depending on whether we count the time as a ghost.”

Okay. Cody takes some time to digest that. That’s an age difference, sure. “I’m fine with that.”

Obi-Wan huffs a laugh. “I’ve spent so much time making sure you have the right to make your own choices, and I don’t want to deny you your agency, but… I worry. I can’t help but think I’m probably the first… natborn… that you met who wasn’t horrible to you.”

Cody purses his lips. “You think I’m throwing myself at the first person who was nice to me?”

“You’re one of the most intelligent people I know, and you’re an incredibly capable man. But you’ve had so little life experience outside the war. You’ve met me, and a few admirals and other Jedi, but you haven’t had the chance to really get to know anyone else. Not people who saw you as a person.”

Cody leans forward, pointing a finger at Obi-Wan. “You are being condescending. I know my own mind.” He forestalls Obi-Wan’s protest with a sharp look. He takes a deep breath, because he knows Obi-Wan well enough that getting angry won’t help him here. What he needs is a good argument, and apparently I have done everything you asked of me and more, including being willing to let you die isn’t enough. Even though it should be. “I can accept that you’re uncomfortable with it. I’m younger and I was under your command up until two days ago. But I have all the freedom I need now to go out and experience life, meet new people. So what if I don’t want anyone else?”

“Cody…” Obi-Wan’s hesitant look tells him everything he needs to know. He’s not going to win this, and the more he pushes, the more Obi-Wan is going to retreat. But… it’s not an outright no. It’s not an I don’t feel that way about you. And Obi-Wan is, first and foremost, a negotiator. Maybe there’s a compromise.

“Okay. Fine. What if, in a few months, having more worldly experience and a bunch of natborn acquaintances, I still feel the same way?” He has to drop his eyes to the floor before he can go on. “Will you wait for me?”

“Oh, Cody.” Obi-Wan tries to sit up and falls back with a pained grunt. Cody is immediately at his side, helping him ease back down. Obi-Wan catches his hand before he can withdraw. “I spent twenty years in a desert and it didn’t change how I feel. Don’t worry about a few months.”

Cody still can’t meet his eyes. “Then don’t go too far. I need to be able to find you.” Everything inside him wants to beg to skip the wait period, but he knows how far he can push his general, and they’re already at the line. Just wait for me, he says silently. Let me show you I’m worthy of you.

“Cody!” Obi-Wan reaches up to grab his shoulder. “Never think that. You have always been worthy. Look at everything you accomplished while I was incapacitated! If anything I wonder why you would want a dusty relic like me at your side.”

Cody looks at him in wonder. “I thought Jedi didn’t read minds.”

Obi-Wan lets go as if burned. “Oh. I’m so sorry. Sometimes, with people we’re very close to, we can pick up surface thoughts… I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.” He falls silent, looking at Cody as if waiting for judgment.

Against his will, Cody feels a smile creep across his face. “Guess I’ll take that as a compliment, then.”

Obi-Wan stares at him for a moment, before smiling back hesitantly.

“I thought you loved dusty relics,” Cody adds. “Why would I feel any different?”

It startles a laugh out of Obi-Wan. Cody marks the conversation as an overall success. They got this far, and they’ve made it out of the war; he can wait.

Chapter Text

Light up and let me grow
Pull me into the new and out of the old
        Light Up – Vian Izak

“It’s not over entirely,” Bail informs Obi-Wan, when he finally has time for a visit to the Temple Halls of Healing. “Count Dooku may no longer be alive to lead the CIS, but there is still a lot of unrest over what shape the galaxy will take after this. Many of the original Confederate-aligned systems still have no interest in rejoining the Republic.”

“I presume the conquered planets are more amenable,” Obi-Wan says, taking a shaky sip of water. He’s clearly far from recovering his old strength, Bail is pained to see.

“Some, yes. Others…” He fixes Obi-Wan with a stern look. “Apparently they have a very attractive alternative.”

Obi-Wan frowns. “What alternative? What is there outside the Republic and the CIS? Surely not the Hutts.”

Bail raises an eyebrow. “You, my friend. Apparently, under your guidance, a great many systems, both Republic, CIS and conquered by one side or another, have formed a lucrative trade alliance. They appear to consider your military to be theirs. They’ve been very adamant about speaking to you and the marshal commander as soon as possible about how to move forward.”

Obi-Wan, already white under the harsh infirmary lights, pales even further. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh.” Bail can’t help but chuckle. “When you decided to lead a rebellion, this outcome didn’t occur to you, master strategist?”

“Oh, that’s not me,” Obi-Wan demurs. “Cody does much more of the strategizing.”

Bail gives him a look that says quite clearly what he thinks of that.

Obi-Wan looks down at his bedsheets. “I suppose I may have been overly focused on preventing a Sith empire from arising.” The news that Obi-Wan hadn’t had a vision but had somehow traveled through time is perhaps not public knowledge, but by now it’s at least leaked through most of the Jedi Temple and those who were in on his plans. Bail can’t fathom what he must have lived through. What would the galaxy have looked like if Palpatine had won? “We needed a network of supplies and intelligence unconnected to both the Republic and the Separatists. It was never meant to be a more permanent form of galactic government.”

“Well, apparently your network has pulled other systems in without your knowledge. As it stands, the galaxy is now more divided than it was before the war. The CIS is perhaps the weakest faction, at the moment.” Bail leans back in his chair. “We’ve been putting them off by citing your recovery, but some consider you to be captured by enemy forces and are demanding your release to their medical facilities. Thankfully the only military action they’re capable of is through Commander Cody.”

Obi-Wan sighs out a relieved breath. “And he’s not about to sanction any attack, of course. How can they even presume that our military would act on their behalf? It’s the Grand Army of the Republic, for Force’s sake. And from what I understand, the clones are now a sovereign people.”

Bail shrugs. “There’s a loophole in that: not all clones were part of the GAR anymore, nor were all clones part of your resistance. So the GAR, the resistance and the clones as a people are three separate groups, albeit with overlap. They only claim the resistance fighters as their military.”

“You can’t just claim people as your military,” Obi-Wan argues indignantly.

Bail nods. “Commander Cody agrees, but he hasn’t officially let the Republic know this.”

“I do apologize, Bail. Undermining the Republic was never my goal.”

“I know, Obi-Wan. To be fair… the Republic has been hopelessly corrupt and favoring the Core. I can hardly blame the sectors on the Rim for trying to find alternatives.”

“I will of course argue for a return to the Republic,” Obi-Wan says, stroking his beard.

Bail almost rolls his eyes at that gesture. “What are you cooking up now, my friend?”

“I’m sure you’ll agree that an overhaul of the Republic’s system of government is sorely needed. Don’t think I haven’t made note of the fact that you are now vice chancellor, and the senator for Kuat is acting chancellor. Deserving as you may be of the position… To many, this will again seem like favoring the richer Core worlds.”

Bail has to concede the point. “Danu was elected mostly because he’s neither been solidly in favor of Palpatine’s administration, nor a particular friend to the Jedi. His appeal for Palpatine to surrender himself to an investigation set him up as the voice of reason. My ties to you and the Order have been too obvious, or I might have been up for the position myself. But you’re right, Danu was also considered because Kuat is rich, and no one can afford to alienate the planet that supplies half the galaxy with ships.”

“Hm,” Obi-Wan says, a small smile forming on his lips. “I don’t suppose former Senator Amidala is one of the people waiting to see me.”

Bail folds his arms. “Are you not going to share your plans with me?”

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow at him. “Vice Chancellor Organa, surely you cannot afford the implication of bias in your current position.”

Bail shakes his head. “I’ll leave you to your plotting and scheming, then. It’s good to see you awake and doing better, Obi-Wan.”

Bail is utterly unsurprised when in the next week, the newly christened Free System Alliance puts Padmé Amidala forward as their spokesperson and announces its intention to negotiate with the Republic. The senate is still in chaos, what with the shock of Palpatine’s betrayal, the change of leadership, and the loss of dozens of sitting members, and the rotunda is still in the last stages of repair, but this negotiation trumps everything, and so they assemble.

Padmé speaks to the senate in a gown much less ornate than her usual, her hair braided tightly to her head. “Senators of the Republic, I come before you today with an accusation, a plea and a proposal. I was once one of you. I was never guilty of the corruption that I was accused of before my disappearance, and proof of my innocence is available to all of you in the documents sent yesterday to your offices. However, the Republic in general has indeed grown corrupt.”

She pauses for the offended murmuring around her to quiet. “I am not here to accuse any one person in particular. Rather, it is the Republic’s system of government that has allowed bribery, favoritism and nepotism to go unchecked. Too much power lies with too few people, and as we know, power can make any sentient greedy for more. The Free System Alliance has been created out of necessity and with no plans to form a government originally, but to many planets in the Alliance it has been refreshingly egalitarian. We want this for other planets, as well. We believe it is the same desire that caused those who are now in the Confederacy of Independent Systems to secede from the Republic.

“We do not deny that there is much to be proud of in this Republic. Thousands of planets work towards a common goal: the betterment of the Republic’s citizens. Sentient rights are far better upheld within the Republic than outside of it. There are excellent laws to govern trade, and many close ties of friendship have been fostered between worlds which have stood for generations.

“However, as a governing body, the Republic may have grown too large. It is slow, and unwieldy. Legislation stalls in endless committees. Worlds that apply for aid often have had to solve their crises through other means before the senate gets around to a vote. The Trade Federations blockade of my homeworld of Naboo is but one example, but I’m sure many here remember it for being the catalyst that put Palpatine in power. The planets in the Outer Rim barely have a voice and are often left to their own devices. My fellow sentients: this cannot be what we want for the galaxy.”

There are cries of approval this time, Bail notes, especially from the smaller planets and sectors in the Mid and Outer Rim.

Padmé keeps a straight face, but Bail can see some tension drain from her shoulders at the endorsement. “The Free System Alliance is not opposed to reunification, but first we ask you to consider reforming the Republic’s system of government. The galaxy is now divided and recovering from war. There is no better time to seize the momentum and make changes. All voices need to be heard equally. Corruption must be rooted out. The Trade Federation and the Banking Clans, though indisputably important to the running of the galaxy, should not have a voice in its governing. Then, and only then, will the Free Systems rejoin the Galactic Republic.” She bows to the senate. Her last words are almost drowned out in an uproar of both cheers and heckling: “Thank you for hearing me.”

At a signal from Chancellor Danu, Bail clinks the vice chancellor’s staff against the floor and asks for silence. “The Chancellor will speak first. After that, the floor will be open for questions.”

The Chancellor’s podium rises to meet Padmé’s. “Speaker Amidala, you have given us much to think about. However, it is one thing to accuse us of corruption and ask us to change, and another to devise practical solutions.”

Padmé smiles as benign a smile as Palpatine was capable of. “Very true, Chancellor. We do have a few suggestions.”

Bail meets up with her later, although of course they do so quietly and outside the senate building. Obi-Wan is right that he can’t afford to seem biased.

She hugs him. “It’s so very good to see you, Bail. I can’t thank you and Breha enough for helping me get off Coruscant safely.”

“I’m only glad to see you doing well,” he replies, looking her up and down. “You seem to have changed your wardrobe.”

She smiles. “I don’t intend to stay on as Speaker for the FSA, Bail. Once unification has been accomplished, I will retire and join Anakin on the Outer Rim again. My clothes will have to be more practical.”

He wisely doesn’t ask what she and Anakin will be doing on the Outer Rim. “But in the interim? The senate does respect a certain polish.”

She lifts her chin. “That may be part of what’s wrong with the Republic. If we can only respect those with the credits to buy expensive finery, the Core will always hold more sway in the senate.”

So, it’s a statement. Bail should have known. He wonders who came up with it. “Fair enough. Who will be the senator for Naboo, then, after reunification?”

She shrugs. “If current ideas for reforms are going to hold, there will be no senator for Naboo alone.”

She’s not wrong. The Republic is debating splitting the galaxy up into smaller sectors that are largely self-governing, with only the larger decisions and disputes between sectors falling under the purview of the Galactic Republic Senate. “I’ll miss your voice in the senate. You have always been a powerful force for sentient rights and sentientarian aid, Padmé. Will you not reconsider?”

Her smile becomes softer, more private. “We have plans. I still want to be part of that force for good, Bail. But not just for the Republic. I want to look further outward, now. And also…” She glances down at her stomach, and for the first time, Bail notices the swell of her abdomen. “I will have other priorities to juggle, soon.”

It’s first a jolt of surprise and then a stab of jealousy. He swallows down the bitterness of his and Breha’s difficulties in this department. His desire for a child isn’t Padmé’s fault, and he makes sure none of his pain shows on his face. “Congratulations,” he says, embracing her again. “I’m so happy for you.”

She thanks him, glowing with happiness, and bids him goodbye. He keeps up the smile until she leaves, then drops it and runs his hand through his hair.

The Jedi have been making noises about withdrawing from the senate, as well. He tries not to feel as if he’s now solely responsible for making good on the hopes and dreams for the Republic that they’d discussed during the war. Senator Mothma is still with the Republic, at least, and willing to share the burden with him. He’s not alone.

Chapter Text

Burn all the time machines you own
'Cause all that shit we have outgrown
But they keep on pulling me back in the same ways
        Burn All the Time Machines – Gordi

Yoda can feel the odd Force presence coming from a long way off. Obi-Wan’s presence is intriguing, especially now that he’s awake. It’s… nice to be intrigued. After such a long lifetime, still finding something new and surprising is almost a relief to Yoda. There are very old records on it, but the Order has not seen time travel in Yoda’s lifetime.

He’s happy the young – yet old – Master has sought him out. Yoda has felt that there are things weighing on his soul, and that he has not been able to share them with anyone. Now that he is no longer confined to the Halls of Healing, perhaps it is time for his soul to begin healing.

He pours an extra cup of tea just before Obi-Wan enters without using the door chime, feeling the welcome he has extended in the Force.

“Grandmaster. Am I not interrupting you?”

“Welcome you, I would not, if interrupting, you were,” Yoda grumbles. Why must these youngsters always ask such silly questions? They have such short lives already and yet they insist on wasting time like this. There are so many better ways to waste time. “Good to see you out of the Halls of Healing, it is. You and Master Plo. Worried about you both, we were.”

Obi-Wan chooses a cushion across from him. He reaches for the teacup with his mechanical right hand, which opens stutteringly and then closes before he can touch the cup. He clears his throat and takes the cup with his left hand. “I’m still practicing.”

“And Skywalker? Helped you, he has not?” Yoda may also ask questions he already knows the answer to, but his have purpose.

Obi-Wan takes a sip and hums appreciatively. “He’s been avoiding me. I can make a few guesses why.”

Yoda curbs the impulse to whack him with his gimer stick. The man’s been through enough. “Guess, we should not. Discuss, we should, so that learn, we can.”

“I can’t talk to someone who won’t show his face, Grandmaster,” Obi-Wan reminds him. He looks around. “I’ve missed this place. I wasn’t sure you’d all welcome me back. I’ve been rather disobedient.”

Yoda feels his ears lower in shared sadness. “Welcome, you would have been, if sooner, you had come.”

Obi-Wan ducks his head. “There was a purpose in remaining away from Coruscant. But… I confess I was also afraid to face the Temple. To see it whole, all the Jedi in it still alive… It’s good, but it’s also painful.”

“Pain, a good teacher can be.” Yoda folds his hands over his stick, reconsidering. “But only when ready to face it, we are.”

“I’m facing it now, Grandmaster.” Obi-Wan sighs. “It’s somewhat easier now that I know I’ve done all I can to save them.”

And yet, Yoda can still feel so much grief in him. Grief, and fear, which is not what he is used to, from Obi-Wan. “Afraid, you are still? When saved us, you have?”

Obi-Wan takes the time to take another drink and ponder the question, Yoda notes approvingly. “I think this fear is for myself. I don’t know if I’ve done enough.”

“Defeated, the Sith are.” Even as he says it, Yoda can feel in the Force that Obi-Wan is right. Defeating the Sith is not why he has been sent back. Or at least that’s not the whole of it.

“Yes. I rather thought I’d die in the attempt,” Obi-Wan confesses. “I’m not entirely sure what to do with myself, now. Master Yoda, I don’t know if I’m a good Jedi.”

Yoda bows his head, pained. “Wish to leave, do you? As Skywalker does?”

“No! No, not at all.” Obi-Wan shakes his head. “I just… I thought that, as a Master, I was able to let go of attachments. I thought that I understood: that I could love, even while being prepared to lose those I loved.” He squeezes his eyes shut and his pain is bright in the Force. “But I wasn’t prepared at all. I thought I would lose a few people, here and there, and maybe I would have been able to handle that. But I wasn’t prepared to lose everything and everyone at once. I wasn’t prepared for loss through betrayal, rather than death. I spent so many years feeling lost, after that.”

Hearing the catch in Obi-Wan’s voice, Yoda extends warmth and sympathy to him in the Force. “A failing, this is not. Grief, a part of life is, also. As Jedi, deny this, we do not. Learn, we do always, until join the Force, we do.”

Obi-Wan gasps out a sob. “But I did, Master. I joined the Force, and I watched it all play out. I watched Anakin’s son show him the way back to the Light, as I hadn’t been able to do. I was at peace, and I understood so much… And then I came back here, and it’s as if I can only hold on to the barest inkling of what I’d learned.”

Yoda takes this in. “A purpose for this, there must be. If come back for a reason, the Force allowed you to, then needed to forget these lessons, you did, also.”

“But why?” Obi-Wan takes a breath to temper his anguish. Yoda can feel his Force presence settle a bit. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to still understand exactly what I need to do?”

“Some lessons, only learned through experience, they can be. Not simply given, they can be.”
Obi-Wan nods slowly. “I thought perhaps I’d come back to help Anakin, to teach him what he needs to learn. But… I think I’m the wrong choice for that. I failed so completely, the last time.”

Yoda harrumphs. “The greatest teacher, failure is. Forgotten that much, have you?”

“No, Master.” Obi-Wan’s eyes are far away. “But surely–”

This time, Yoda does whack him, though he takes care to keep it gentle. “If failed, you did, to know how to succeed, it was. If not here to defeat the Sith, you are, more to do, have you.”

Obi-Wan swallows. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to have to do your life over after you’d already joined the Force? Stars, just having to get used to using the ‘fresher again was so annoying.”

Yoda cackles. “Before enlightenment: chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment: chop wood, carry water. A very old quote, from long before the Republic, it is, but hold true, it does.”

Obi-Wan smiles ruefully. “I suppose so.”

“Also, fail, you did not. If fall to the Sith, the Jedi Order did, then not yours alone, the failing was. If Fall to the Dark in your timeline, Skywalker did, failed him, we all did. Failed himself, he did, also.”

Obi-Wan takes a shuddering breath. “To Fall is a choice, but our choices are not ours alone. Our choices are informed by our experiences, our teachers, our predispositions, our circumstances, even the will of the Force.”

“Yet free will, we also have,” Yoda reminds him. “A responsibility, a teacher has, to his student: to teach, not to choose for him.”

Obi-Wan thinks about this. “That’s fair, I suppose.”

“Here, you still are. More to teach him, have you?”

Obi-Wan hesitates. “I believe so.”

“Teach him, you will, about drinking tea, before go cold, it does.” Yoda pours a fresh – and warm – cup for himself, and hides his smile behind it when Obi-Wan tries his own tea and grimaces at the lukewarm liquid. He’s distracted enough with his own thoughts that he doesn’t sense the approaching Force signature.

The door chimes. Yoda’s smile widens, and it’s lucky that Obi-Wan has turned to face the door so he doesn’t see it. “Enter,” he says, extending the invitation in the Force as well.

The door opens and Skywalker peeks around the doorframe, recoiling a little when he spots Obi-Wan.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan rises quickly.

Skywalker hesitates, before entering. Yoda can sense that he was contemplating leaving. His shielding really needs improvement, though they’ve been working on it together since the defeat of the Sith. Skywalker has never before been so willing to take instruction from him as he is now.

“Master, Grandmaster.” He bows to each of them in turn. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I thought…”

“An appointment, we have. Mistaken or interrupting, you are not.” Yoda points his stick at the third cushion around the table. “Expecting you, I was.”

Obi-Wan casts him a sharp look. “Were you, indeed?”

Skywalker sits down. Obi-Wan does the same, trying in vain to meet Skywalker’s eyes.

“Tea?” Yoda asks. Another question he already knows the answer to, but there is such a thing as manners.

“No, thank you, Grandmaster. I just had caf.” Skywalker has been subdued ever since his confrontation with the Sith. He’s given the Council his report on what happened and told them he wishes to leave the Order. But he’s also confessed to his temporary Fall, and asked for their help in regaining his balance before he leaves. It’s a startlingly mature request from a Knight the Council knows as impetuous and belligerent. Yoda was happy to grant it, and would have been even if he he’d had no particular fondness for this young man in his lineage. But he does, in spite of Skywalker’s more difficult traits, care for him.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan tries again.

“I’m sorry, Master,” Skywalker blurts out. “I didn’t even come to visit you in the Halls once you were awake.”

Obi-Wan blinks. “That’s all right.”

“It’s not, though.” Skywalker swallows hard. “I… I failed you. I promised I wouldn’t Fall, and then…”

“Failed, you have,” Yoda nods, ignoring an outraged look from Obi-Wan. “Fail, Obi-Wan did, to teach you better.” This time it’s Skywalker who looks up at him indignantly. “Fail, we all do. To be Jedi, not perfect, it makes us. Very old, I am. Fail many more times than you, I have. No reason to hurt ourselves, this is. Or others.”

They both stare at him, then share a look. Honestly. Youngsters.

“To do better, you both wish?” Yoda prompts them.

“Yes, Master,” Skywalker says immediately.

Obi-Wan nods slowly, frowning at him.

“Hrm. Do better, you cannot, if speak to each other, you do not.”

Obi-Wan gives him a look. “You planned this somehow, didn’t you?”

Yoda smiles. “Opportunities, the Force creates. Learn to take advantage of them, you must.”

Obi-Wan looks at Skywalker. “You saved everyone. I don’t blame you for doing what you had to do. Did you think I would? Is that why you haven’t come to see me?”

Skywalker still seems to prefer looking at the floor rather than Obi-Wan. “You’ve spent all this time teaching me how to do better, these last few months, and then I couldn’t find another solution except to open myself up to the Dark. I hate that I disappointed you.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head fondly. “I’m so proud of you, dear one. You touched the Dark and then opened yourself back up to the Light. How many others can say the same? You’re so very far from disappointing.”

Skywalker looks up at him through his lashes. “But I… It’s not going away. I can still feel it.”

“And I bet you’re pushing it away very hard.” Obi-Wan gives him a smile. “Anakin, I don’t remember much of what I experienced and understood before I came back to this time, but I know this: you are a child of the Force. That means all of the Force. Not just the Light. That Darkness, it’s always been with you, hasn’t it? You’ve just tried to teach yourself not to acknowledge it.”

And this is why Yoda needed them to finally talk, because he may be old and wise, but he didn’t know any of that. He might have been able to intuit some of it, but no one understands the student as well as the teacher.

Skywalker takes a deep breath. “I think I – I touched it before. I’ve used it before. Not just on Korriban.”

Obi-Wan nods. “The more you push it away and try to pretend it isn’t part of you, the worse it is when you finally touch it, because then it’ll only be during overwhelming emotion. I think you’ll have to work on accepting it. I think when you accept both parts of yourself, when you’re willing to face all of yourself, you’ll be more powerful than any of us can imagine.”

“Balancing the Force,” Yoda murmurs, ears rising, a bit surprised he hadn’t come to this insight before.

Skywalker is looking at Obi-Wan with something like hope. “Can you help me, Master?”

“I believe that’s why I’m here in the first place. It’ll probably mean meditating, though,” Obi-Wan teases.

“Obi-Wan!” Skywalker groans.

Yoda smiles into his cup and decides they no longer need his interference.