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aces-to-apples · 4 years

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Written for Day 7: Sith of Codywan Week 2020 @codywanweek

Here on AO3

Chapters: 1/2

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: M/M

Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Boil (Star Wars), Original Clone Trooper Character(s), CC-2224 | Cody

Additional Tags: GFY, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emperor Cody, Sith Cody, Force-Sensitive Cody

“two can keep a secret (if one of them is dead)”

He wasn’t even able to enter Coruscant’s atmosphere before being intercepted, Obi-Wan noted with despair.

“General Kenobi,” the unknown trooper leading the squadron of fighters forming up around him greeted, “we were informed of your imminent arrival and have been ordered to escort you to the Senate Dome. The Emperor has been anxious for your return, sir.”

The dread that had been his constant companion ever since Cody had him shot off the side of the cliff on Utapau sank its claws ever deeper into his stomach. No contact, no information, not a single transmission from anyone in the galaxy, and the very first thing he heard upon returning to Coruscant confirmed all his worst fears.

They had been betrayed.

Obi-Wan had no doubt that he was being escorted to his own execution and, with that in mind, he acknowledged the troopers’ orders and prepared himself for what was to come. He was expertly surrounded by soldiers of the highest calibre who knew everything there was to know about Jedi battle tactics. To fight now would be suicide, and pointless, besides.

And, he had to admit, he had no desire to harm them.

After three years of fighting side by side, Obi-Wan had picked up both an eye and ear for spotting the differences between clones; the one leading his escort through the clouds of Coruscant sounded very young. Perhaps not a shiny, but one of the younger crop all the same, his training expedited and his assignment off Kamino received at perhaps only his eighth or ninth Standard year.

His continued use of honorifics and the trappings of rank, as he directed them through traffic and the landing process, baffled Obi-Wan perhaps more than anything else. The trooper—Lance, according to his wingman—sounded nothing less than ecstatic about Obi-Wan’s arrival and their orders to see him to the ‘Emperor.’

Obi-Wan shook his head and cooperated without a fuss. Going in blind as he was, it wouldn’t do to show his hand before completely necessary.

The troopers ‘escorting’ him landed as well, surrounding his little fighter more like an honor guard than a traditional one. As he leapt from the cockpit down to the landing pad, another squad approached from inside the Senate, wearing the bright red of the Coruscant Guard and—

“Boil?”

“General,” the man indeed wearing a familiar pattern of 212th gold on his armor said, nodding at Lance and his men in 501st blue. “We’ll take it from here, Corporal. You and your squadron can report to the minister before heading back to the barracks."

"Yessir," Corporal Lance acknowledged, his men saluting smartly behind him. Before leaving with the rest of them, he pulled off his bucket and aimed a bright, relieved smile at Obi-Wan. "Welcome back, General. We're glad to see you're alright."

He looked just as young as Obi-Wan had predicted, perhaps even still due one last growth cycle. The thought was… a terribly uncomfortable one.

"Thank you, Lance," he said at length, unsure how to react to the lad’s obvious, uncomplicated happiness. Obi-Wan watched the squadron take their leave, expecting to be forcibly escorted away from the landing site at any moment, but Boil and the Guard seemed content to let him dally. After several long moments, he finally faced the troopers. “Well now, I hear there’s an Emperor who wishes to speak with me?”

Boil nodded and led the way into the Senate building. The members of the Coruscant Guard fell into position around them, tight and defensive.

The Senate was quieter than Obi-Wan could ever remember it being. Normally a bustling place of politics and intrigue, with aides rushing about and Senators playing their games, the stillness seemed unnatural.

Inside the lift to the Chancellor’s suite, Boil coughed.

“General Kenobi,” he said, gruff as ever but also tinged with embarrassment. “I wanted to apologize for, er—that is, erm—” He took a deep breath. “I was the one who shot you down! Sir.”

The admission came in a rush, the words forced out in such a way that they all slurred together, barely comprehensible. When Obi-Wan riddled out what he was saying, the discomfort in his gut twisted into a new configuration of knots. He didn’t know how to respond.

Sergeant Boil had been a steady and trusted member of the 212th since the beginning of the war. That he was the one to turn a cannon onto Obi-Wan and fire was yet another blow, not crippling, but damaging all the same.

Eventually he merely said, “I see,” his tone neutral and even.

The lift doors slid open a moment later and Boil caught his elbow before he could follow the Guard members as they filed out into the receiving room. “Just,” he began, before cutting himself off. “If you could, sir, try to keep an open mind. We know you won’t agree but—this is for the best, General.”

Too confused and heartsick to reply, Obi-Wan allowed himself to be nudged out of the lift and watched the door close over the face of his beloved friend.

Again, the Guard allowed him to take his time, pulling the Force tight around him and taking a few meditative breaths. He may not know precisely what was going on but the longer he was on Coruscant, the less anything made sense. Boil’s apology mixed with the expectation of his return and the plea for his understanding were all pieces to a puzzle.

The shape of which he couldn’t even begin to see.

But, as both Anakin and Mace were fond of saying, the show must go on. It wouldn’t do to keep the Emperor waiting, especially as his office had apparently replaced the Chancellor’s.

“If you would be so kind,” he said, stepping up to the trooper acting as secretary, smiling as if the galaxy hadn’t gone mad while he was away, “I believe I have an appointment.”

A cough that suspiciously resembled a laugh came from one of the Guards flanking him, followed by the distinct impact of plastoid on plastoid. The secretary suppressed a smile as well, helmetless and distinguished from his many brothers only by the impressive number of piercings he’d managed to fit on both of his ears and a single eyebrow.

“I’ll let the Emperor know you’ve arrived, General Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan bowed slightly and stepped away from the desk.

A moment later, the secretary nodded to the other troopers, who began to file back into the lift without fanfare. At Obi-Wan’s look of bewilderment, the secretary merely smirked and tapped at his undecorated ear, indicating an earpiece. “The Emperor will see you now, sir.”

“So soon?” Obi-Wan barely managed, darting a glance at the doors. “No other appointments? I’d think the brand new Galactic Emperor would be a busy man.”

The secretary’s smirk widened into a wolfish grin and he immediately began radiating a smug kind of satisfaction. “Between you and me, General Kenobi,” he said, leaning forward as if to share a secret, “the Emperor’s been anxious to see you. He’s been in a right snit about it, too. We expected you hours ago.”

With that puzzling bit of information, he pressed a few buttons and the doors to the Emperor’s office slid open. “Tell him Indigo says being his secretary is osik,” Indigo—presumably—said with a jaunty wave as Obi-Wan moved determinedly toward the office. “And that I want a raise—!”

The doors slid shut behind Obi-Wan before he could finish, and then it was just himself and whoever sat in the Chancellor’s chair, facing the wide transparisteel windows.

“Well, you wanted to see me,” he challenged, squaring his shoulders and placing a hand on the hilt of his lightsaber. “Here I am, Emperor.”

The figure in the seat turned and suddenly it felt as if the floor had fallen out from beneath Obi-Wan’s feet. Plastoid that had once been white was now matte black, and gold trim that was worn and chipped looked freshly applied, but there could be no mistake.

A wounded noise left his mouth without permission. “Cody?” Obi-Wan said, voice sounding small even to himself. “Commander?”

His commander, his lover, his truest friend beside Anakin, tilted his head at the non-question. “I’m afraid it’s Emperor, actually, Obi-Wan,” Cody replied after a moment, his face a mask of sympathy even as he blinked sharp, electrum eyes in lazy interest. “We have a lot to talk about.”

#star wars #the clone wars #sw fic #by apples #codywanweek2020 #codywanweek #obi-wan kenobi #commander cody #sith!cody #emperor!cody #i decided to do a chapter from obi's pov and one from cody's so cody's should be up tomorrow #codywan

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