#thoroughly convinced obi wan would have done better with Dooku as his master | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

norcumii · 3 years

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Yesss you're also playing! I gotta go with accidentally married and body swap. Godspeed.

I’ll admit, you stumped me for a bit with this one. Then the ship happened, this is like, two steps to the side of what you asked for, and it got wacky from there, but hey, it was fun! Hopefully you enjoy too!

For this trope mashup meme. Pairing is Cody/Quinlan, because I aim to please. ^_^

Commander Cody was almost THE worst possible choice for partner on this clusterfuck of a mission. Worst would have to be Yoda – there was no possible way he could go undercover, except maybe as a Jawa and that was just asking for at least seven different kinds of trouble. Then Aayla, not because she’d be bad at it, but because Quinlan was a protective bastard and historically their undercover missions hadn’t gone well. Obi-Wan would be third worst, because he was needed to fight the damn war, and that overcompensating jerk was responsible for at least one entire front.

Also, he’d be an insufferable asshole the entire time.

The problem with Commander Cody was that he was probably at least as responsible for another front, if not all the logistics for Obi-Wan’s bullshit while Kenobi was off fucking around the galaxy after his padawan and a half.

There were theories – rumors, really – that clones imprinted on their Jedi. Rumors that Quinlan totally believed, because there was no possible way, Force or no Force, that you could cram that much bastard into two men like Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody by chance. That much snark and assholery could only be malice aforethought.

Very good reasons that neither man had been included in the plan. And it had gone so well at first! Disguises, check. Pretend to murder Master Tholme (sneaky bastard had been giggling for days over the opportunity to go deep undercover on his own missions) and shoot Master Drallig (poor bastard needed a vacation that badly) – check! Get captured alive by the Coruscant Guard and tossed in prison – done with minimal bungling.

Making friends with Cad Bane and Moralo Eval didn’t go quite as smoothly, but Quinlan was good at his job, so when they busted out of jail Quinlan was ostensibly part of the crew.

That was when things went to shit. Between the jail and the get-away vehicle, they’d run across a patrol of clones in off-duty grays. There’d been a heartbreaking moment for them all to stare at each other in astonishment, just long enough for Quinlan to recognize the scar. Bad enough there was going to be yet another squad of dead soldiers, which he was very much not a fan of, but now the body count was going to include...someone he was very much a fan of being not-dead.

Then Commander fucking Cody had drawn a blaster and stunned the rest of his squad, planting hands on hips and scolding Quinlan about how he was at least fifteen minutes early and what kind of a breakout was this?

Vos still wasn’t sure how that ended up with Cody traipsing along, with Bane and Eval being thoroughly convinced that he was some random rogue clone who’d been having some kind of torrid affair with Quinlan. Cody almost had Vos convinced that he’d been ready to bust Quinlan out, and that had nothing to do with how Cody’s method of swaying Eval involved sticking a blaster up the bastard’s nose.

It absolutely wasn’t hot. Not at all.

He’d been dumb enough to relax a little when they took a pit stop to gear up. Some two-bit wannabe sniper had dared to get up into the Commander’s face – the clone was the one walking away with some new gear, a mock swagger, and a joke that he might as well take the idiot’s identity, if he was gonna be that lax about shit.

Still absolutely not hot.

On the upside, the new gear meant Cody got away when they landed on Serenno – at least, Quinlan thought he got away. He’d been busy at the time with the obvious downside: Dooku recognized Quinlan.

Con: Vos got captured and dragged off to a carbonite unit to sit and stew until Dooku’s...thing, whatever it was, was over.

Pro: he saw the freezer before getting tossed into it.

Who the fuck knows: there were at least two stray tookas in the area, and one of the little fuckers tried to trip Vos and all four of his guards on the way in.

Con: he still ended up on ice.

It wasn’t like he had a plan, but desperation could pass as genius if you squinted at it hard enough. And using the Force to toss a part of himself into the tooka that’d tripped him was definitely worth squinting at.

Better than studying his normal self, frozen in a block of tibanna. That was beyond creepy.

Not that he’d ever admit it to anyone, but Quinlan was genuinely worried, and the whole mission had gone so damn pear shaped he had no idea if anything was recoverable – including them.

Well, no better time to shit stir. Quinlan scuttled off to go looking for trouble.

The great thing about paranoid, power-mad bookish types was that they took notes. The smart ones prepared blackmail. Vos had a lot of things to say about Dooku, but dumb wasn’t one of them.

On the truly awesome side: he could sense Sithy wards in a lot of places, but tookas didn’t set them off because cats would get into whatever they damned well pleased – meaning Dooku had totally on accident handed Quinlan the metaphorical keys to the castle. If he’d still had opposable thumbs, this would have been perfect!

Well. Aside from the whole Chancellor-being-a-Sith-Lord-and-behind-the-entire-fucking-war thing.

Force, it was hard to stay positive for long nowadays.

Vos gave a quick, full body shake – wow, fluff was not a thing he expected to have happen – and got back to work. When he was done, he sauntered into the hallways with a whole collection of datacards tucked into a half-assed collar that had used to be a fancy curtain restraint. He was more concerned with keeping everything secure than it looking reasonable – after all, what cat would try putting on some kind of collar? Anyone looking at him funny would blame some kid or something.

If anyone asked, Quinlan had already prepared explanations of how he tracked down Commander Cody’s Force presence. He absolutely did not track his scent. That would be weird.

(To be fair, Quinlan did start by tracking him in the Force. It just hadn’t lasted the entire time.)

He found the commander lurking back near the area with the cryo setup, tucked behind some crates with several bodies nearby. Most were dead, though one or two were stunned, gagged, and trussed up with more binders than might be necessary.

Not hot. Really.

Quinlan considered his options, then planted his fuzzy rump almost next to Cody, craning as if to look over the crate as well. “Mrp?” It wasn’t quite the ‘whatcha doing?’ that he would’ve liked to go for, but close enough.

It earned him a classic side-eye. When it was clear Cody was going to try the ‘ignore the annoyance’ routine, Quinlan reared up to plant his paws against the crate and look over it.

Ah. They were watching the carbonite slabs that were stacked off to the side. Presumably, Vos’ own body was there. He hissed without meaning to, not happy about the reminder.

“Not now, cat,” Cody whispered right back, waving a hand to try to shoo him away. Quinlan shot him a look. Local animal flees from packing crates, investigation at eleven. Any idiot who saw that would at least consider that something had startled the animal in the first place.

Ok, fine: cat. Anything could set off a cat. His point still stood!

From the angle of his helmet, Cody was glaring back at him, then there was a small huff before the Commander went back to studying the area. Oh, Quinlan was not about to play this game.

He considered for half a second doing some typically catty gesture of disdain, but he was not about to be licking anything, even to make a point. Instead, he minced in a near circle, sitting directly in front of the Commander. He meowed, because throat clearing didn’t seem to be a thing cats could do.

That got him a quick glance, then there was a full-body pause as in the Force, Cody almost jangled with sudden suspicion. Quinlan hoped he was showing the cat-equivalent of a huge-ass smirk as Cody sloooowly looked over at him.

“General?” he asked, sounding annoyed and the kind of exhausted usually reserved for annoying toddlers.

Vos didn’t even try to stop a satisfied swish of his tail before flicking an ear and nodding.

Cody put his head in his hands. “...I’m not even gonna ask.”

Quinlan gave him another moment, then popped back to his feet and headed around the crate. After a beat, there was a long-suffering sigh behind him. “Yeah, okay. Let’s get your body back, and if you ever tell Kenobi I said that, no one will ever find your body.”

Quinlan let a little roll into his step, giving an insolent flip of the tail. Sounded like after they figured out this mess, he owed the Commander a nice dinner somewhere.

He didn’t need the incentive, but it sure helped.

~end

#star wars #My writing #meme #trope mashup #Cody/Vos #animal transformation #from a certain point of view #body swapping #Rako Hardeen #except not really #dharmaavocado

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anotherhawk · 5 years

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Star Wars Fanfiction - The Past Remains Ch 2

Finally done in time for Star Wars day. I honestly thought I might be writing and rewriting this chapter forever. If you enjoy it please let me know.

Obi-Wan couldn't help but imagine the look on Anakin's face if he saw him leading half the Jedi High Council through Coruscant's lower levels in search of precisely the right kind of discreet drinking hole. Somehow, in spite of all evidence he was offered to the contrary, Anakin still clung to his view of the Council as being hopelessly remote, distanced from the real world atop their exalted tower. Obi-Wan didn't understand it; and now that he was on the Council it was even a little hurtful. He wished Anakin could see that they were all Jedi. They had all fought and bled across a hundred worlds, trying to keep a little light alive in an increasingly dark galaxy.

For all its flaws Coruscant was where the Temple was and that meant it was home, and he and his fellow Council members walked through the dark and dingy tunnels as readily as they walked through the halls of the Senate building. Possibly more readily, actually. The spice dealers and swoop gangers who eyed them as they passed were more honest and upfront in their intentions than any politician he had ever met. Their body count was probably a lot lower as well.

“Are we going anywhere in particular?” Adi asked him as she turned back from pressing a few credit chips into a beggar's eager hands.

“Just a little place I know,” he told her. “It should just be up ahead on the right here...unless it's been shut down.” That was always an unfortunate possibility. “Ah, no, here we are.” He rapped on the metal door and a shutter was flung open immediately.

“What you looking for?” a voice demanded.

“Discretion,” he answered and the door was pulled open.

Depa shook her head. “I think that's the worst password I've ever heard.”

“At least it gets straight to the point,” he said with a light smile. “Shall we?”

The inside was just as he remembered it; dimly lit with a few widely spaced tables and a snoozing ithorian tending bar. The man who had let them in scowled, not so much as glancing at their faces, and held out a hand. “Cover charge.” Obi-Wan paid him. “Right, sit where you want.”

They found a table near the back of the room. Depa smiled as she sat down. “You know, Mace, this reminds me of that place on Corellia. The one where we met up with Ishgo Dar and you, ah, generously 'gave' him all your credits.”

Mace gave her a sidelong glance. “A Jedi must always be compassionate.”

Obi-Wan shook his head and signalled for some drinks and, when they arrived, drained his immediately and signalled for another. “I did say I intended to go for unhealthy coping mechanisms,” he said as he caught Mace looking at him.

“Oh, I know,” Mace agreed wryly, knocking his own drink back. “And I'm here to keep you company. But please, Obi-Wan, for my sake pace yourself. I promised myself the morning after I was Knighted that I was never again going to let myself get so drunk that Master Yoda had to drag me home.”

Depa laughed. “I would give a lot to have seen that, Master.”

“I seem to remember, my padawan, that the morning after your own Knighting I had to scrape you up from the kitchen floor,” Mace said dryly.

The day after his Knighting Obi-Wan had been caught up in arrangements for Qui-Gon's pyre, reading through Anakin's sparse medical records and trying to arrange for him to get his vaccinations, reading everything he could about the Sith, reading everything he could about trauma symptoms in children, trying to figure out where to even start when he was going to have to teach his new padawan everything... That had been the day he'd called Dooku to inform him of Qui-Gon's death as well. He remembered his Grandmaster staring at him stoically through his stumbling explanation before hanging up the call without so much as a word. It hadn't been long after that Dooku had left the Order for good. He wondered; if he had been able to find better words back then was it possible they wouldn't be in this war now?

“Obi-Wan?” Plo's voice handily pulled him away from his past failings and back to his current ones.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was thinking about the morning after my own Knighting. That was the first time I made Anakin jadufruit flatcakes. It was six months before he was comfortable enough to admit he hated them.” He smiled crookedly to himself and finished his drink.

“Do you ever regret it?” Adi asked. “Taking a padawan so young, I mean.”

“No,” he said, astonished she could even ask. “Anakin has been the brightest light in my life for well over a decade now. I could never regret those years.”

“Not even when he cut all the sleeves off his robes and tunics?” Mace asked with a snort.

He remembered that; Anakin had been eleven at the time. “Don't remind me,” he said and he hadn't expected to laugh tonight. “The quartermaster wouldn't let me requisition any more cloaks even temporarily so I was up most of the night sewing.”

Depa was smiling. “Why in the world did he want to cut his clothes up?”

“It was that holo drama, 'A Light in the Temple',” Mace answered unexpectedly. “One of the characters ran around in sleeveless robes. It was very popular amongst the initiates and younger padawans for a while – Skywalker wasn't the only youngling to try out the look. He was the only one to destroy his entire wardrobe though.”

He smiled into his drink. “Anakin has never believed in half measures. Why do you even remember that, Mace?”

“While you were sewing I was stuck for hours in meetings with Creche Master Oswin, trying to convince him that we couldn't sue the program makers.”

He chuckled at the thought. Really, at the time he would probably have agreed with Master Oswin. Anakin had been obsessed with the show and it had been extremely aggravating. Still, the warmth in his chest wasn't just from his drink.

The conversation wound on talking about padawans, their misadventures and triumphs. He wondered if Qui-Gon had ever spoken of him like this. There had been times when his master had been proud of him after all. Perhaps when Tahl had still been alive...he could imagine the two of them sitting together like this, talking about him and Bant. That time between those first tumultuous years of his apprenticeship and Tahl's death had probably been the point where their relationship had been at its strongest. When he had most often felt those rare flashes of pride through the bond.

He remembered that mission on Ryushi; the look on Qui-Gon's face when he'd led the children out of the cave system, battered and bleeding but safe. Alive. He'd felt Qui-Gon's joy and affection surrounding him then, a warm mental embrace that had been so proud, so...so loving. Qui-Gon had loved him, at least then. Even if he hadn't been wanted he had been loved.

That mission had only been a few week's before Tahl's death, and so it had been the last time he'd ever felt Qui-Gon's embrace like that. By the time Qui-Gon had managed to climb his way out of the pit of rage and despair, by the time Qui-Gon had been able to look at him and see him again, Obi-Wan had no longer been a child to be coddled.

He wished he'd made more of that moment. It was one of his cherished memories now, yes, but at the time he'd been focused on the younglings in his care and on his own pain and hunger and he'd missed so much.

“Obi-Wan.” Depa was looking at him, kindness shining in her eyes. “Might I ask you something?”

His lips quirked. “You can always ask.”

“I was wondering if you might tell us how you gained Padawan Nataya's trust? Not the details, if they are personal, but I gathered that there was something we missed.”

Plo nodded intently. “I hope we never encounter another situation like this but the burden shouldn't rest on your shoulders alone.”

As loath as he was to speak about it that did make sense. He took a moment thinking about where to start – and felt Mace's warm support through the Force as he matched him drink for drink. “She was afraid,” he started. “We all recognised that, I know, but I wonder if you fully realised that she was far more afraid for her master than she was of him. She knew what he was doing was wrong and wanted to protect him.” He thought again of the brightness in her eyes, the stillness of her hands and part of him wanted to run back to the Temple right now, to make sure she was safe and happy. He fought down the impulse, reminding himself that he had already agreed to meet with her for lunch tomorrow. She was safe now.

Adi leaned in towards him, her brow creased. “Surely she must have realised that it wasn't her responsibility to protect him in that moment?”

“Must she?” He refocused, shrugging slightly and keeping his hands deliberately still. “From the moment they enter the creche we teach our children to be independent, compassionate, selfless, loyal and brave. No doubt from her point of view she was doing precisely as she had been taught; protecting those who needed it, both Master Krin and the people who need Jedi help.” That had certainly been how he had felt about it. Qui-Gon had been doing good for the galaxy; stopping that for his own concerns had seemed unthinkably selfish. “She didn't want to be taken away from him. She was afraid that without her his condition would worsen.”

“Worsen?” Plo asked, his eyes bright behind his mask.

“From what she said I gather that for the last six months she has been principally responsible for keeping her Master functional, focused and in the right place at the right time.” Unwillingly he remembered learning how to make all of Qui-Gon's favourite meals, coaxing him to eat, drink, shower – do anything but go on missions or sit staring into the dark. “I strongly suspect that were we to check thoroughly we would also find that most of the paperwork Master Krin has submitted over the last few months has, in fact, been completed by Nataya.” Which left the unpleasant thought that there may well have been tens of thousands of lives depending on the battle plans of a sixteen year old.

“That poor child,” Depa sighed. “We must make sure she gets a chance to rest and heal.”

Adi nodded. “Students should not be forced to be carers.”

Depa turned to her with a frown. “That would suggest that Jedi who need some help with their disabilities should not take padawans.”

“That's a completely different situation,” Adi argued. “That would be something agreed between master and padawan – and the healers, if necessary. Not one child, alone and unsupported, shouldering responsibilities they are not ready for.”

He cleared his throat. “Anyway. She needed to be assured that Master Krin was not going to be cast out and forgotten, and that the situation was not her fault.”

Plo nodded slowly. “On previous occasions we have been alerted to problems with master/padawan relationships by problems with coursework or engagement with other masters. With this war taking up so much of our focus we need to pay closer attention.”

His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. He took another drink and felt it burn. “Coursework and classes aren't always a good way to tell anyway. You might focus on studying to keep your grades up and your record clean so no one notices anything is wrong and gets you and your master in trouble.” You might try and present yourself as perfect in the hope that your master will notice and say he's proud of you. His hypotheticals were nowhere near hypothetical and everyone knew it and that too burned.

Mace's warm force presence pressed up against him, Adi, Depa and Plo not far behind. Gentle. Cautious. Reassuring. He was grateful for their support – he was – but he couldn't bring himself to lean into it, couldn't let them think of him as weak or broken. He took a deep breath and centred himself like a good Jedi before pouring himself another drink like a terrible one. By now he'd had quite a few and since filtering the alcohol's effects away was rather contrary to the point of the evening he was most definitely feeling it. There was guilt associated with that, a certainty that he was being ridiculously self-indulgent and he shouldn't let himself be impaired while on duty. (Technically he was off duty, wasn't he? Except he was never off duty.)

While he'd been taking his little moment Depa had gracefully pulled the conversation away from him so he was no longer in the spotlight, and while he could still feel their concern it was no longer near as pressing. He was never quite sure what to do with concern, and he could admit that was something of a problem. Perhaps he should go back to seeing a mind healer...if he could ever find the time.

“Obi-Wan!” Depa called to him with a smile. “You've read Truwin's thesis on Cultural Relativism, haven't you? Come and help me tell Mace that he's wrong.”

Perhaps at the very least he could allow himself to enjoy the warmth of friendship.

The evening wore on. He drank more, and Mace kept up seemingly with little effort. As strange as it might sound it helped. Made him feel like they weren't simply here to keep an eye on him. Honestly he'd never liked drinking alone – normally Quinlan or Garen would keep him company. The conversation stayed light; away from the war and from Padawan Nataya and Master Krin, and certainly away from Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon Jinn...right up until he found himself in a booth near the back of a bar, alone except for a bottle of brandy and Mace Windu.

“We did notice,” Mace said, his hands clasped together, his gaze intent. “No matter how clean your record, or how good your grades, the Council did notice that you were completing all of Qui-Gon's reports. Just as the healers noticed that you were exhausted, malnourished and too often injured. I'm sorry that we weren't able to help you. Please don't think that no one noticed – or cared.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan said, looking down at his drink and swirling the liquid around. “I remember you talking to me, trying to get me to admit something was wrong. It was me that wasn't ready to talk about it.”

“No,” Mace said, his Force presence full of soft regret. “You were hurt and I couldn't find the words to help. I let you down. I'm sorry.”

He glanced up long enough to flash a small smile. “Even if I'd ever blamed you I would have forgiven you long ago.” Qui-Gon had needed him. He'd gone back to their rooms after meeting with Mace in the Council Chambers, the memory of concern in his mind, and Qui-Gon had been sitting in the dark, staring at an old datapad. He hadn't even noticed Obi-Wan was gone. “It did help, I think. Knowing someone was paying attention.” Qui-Gon certainly hadn't been. “He didn't want me.”

There was silence for a long moment. He didn't look up, even when Mace eventually spoke. “He didn't see what he was missing.”

“It wasn't as though anyone else wanted to train me,” he said with a swell of old bitterness that surprised him. (Unwanted.)

Mace's surprise lurched in the Force. “That's...I didn't know you still thought that.”

He drew back a little, in spite of himself. “It's true.”

“Oh, Obi-Wan. We really have let you down.” Mace paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts before leaning forwards intently. “You know Yoda was trying to push you and Qui-Gon together. He had foreseen that you would be a good pairing and so he discouraged any other knight or master from asking about you. The rest of the Council fell in line.”

Truth sang in the Force, and that...that hurt. Not that he had ever noticed any potential master looking at him with interest back then. And he had been looking. “I suppose it really doesn't matter now.” The past was in the past. He wished he had moved past it as well as he'd thought he had.

“You should be proud of all you've accomplished,” Mace said, his eyes fixed on Obi-Wan's face. “Because none of us helped you like we should.”

He forced a wry smile. “Pride is hardly an appropriate Jedi attitude.”

“I think you can risk a little pride,” Mace said, dry as a bone, before growing serious once again. “I fought beside Qui-Gon countless times. We had many differences of opinions, but I would say I knew him very well. I would even have called him my friend. And I have to say – he could be a complete dick.”

Taken entirely be surprise, he laughed. “Oh, he was such a dick,”

A broad smile graced Mace's face. “Ha! Yours was the last voice we needed. That's it, the majority of the Jedi High Council has officially ruled Master Qui-Gon Jinn a dick. It's official, I'll enter it into the archives tomorrow.” He gestured exuberantly, if a little wobbly.

He shook his head, the corners of his mouth still twitching. “Really, Mace.”

“Really.” Mace's eyes flickered down to the empty glass in front of him and he smiled ruefully. “I did ask you to pace yourself.”

It was late, or, from another point of view, early when they left the bar; five distinguished Jedi Masters, three of whom were even able to walk convincingly in a straight line. Obi-Wan was feeling pleasantly disassociated, the alcohol providing a warm barrier between him and the rest of the world. They had nearly reached the elevator to return to the surface level when a familiar voice he had never heard before screamed in pain from somewhere below. That was a clone. That was a clone, in pain, far from any battlefield.

They were Jedi; it was in their nature to run towards signs of distress. Even as Obi-Wan sprinted towards the nearest barrier he could feel his fellow Council members right beside him, and they vaulted over the edge and fell down, down, down as one, using the Force to slow them at the last possible moment.

There was a small mob gathered, a dozen or so, gathered around a single fallen trooper, seemingly unarmed and unarmoured, his arms pulled around his head defensively, his legs pulled up to protect his abdomen, while his attackers were wielding batons and shock sticks. One pulled his leg back, readying a kick. It never connected; Plo surged forwards with Force-given speed, scooping the attacker up before any of them had even registered the Council's presence.

The fight, if it could even be called that, was incredibly short. In no time at all they had the mob dismayed and disarmed, corralled up against the wall while Adi called for the Coruscant security force.

Plo was by the trooper's side, helping him sit up. “Are you alright, son? What happened?”

The trooper blinked a few times, evidently struggling to focus, a slow trickle of blood running down the side of his face. “I'm okay, jus' some bruises, I think. Thanks for the save...” His eyes widened as he looked around and took in just who had come to his rescue. “....Generals!”

In other circumstances his shock and alarm would be almost comical. “What happened?” Obi-Wan asked, stepping forwards to support his other arm, and now that he was close up he had seen this man before, though they'd never spoken or been introduced. He was part of the 501st, and his mind flashed back over old battle reports and plans. “Dax, isn't it?”

“Yessir,” Dax agreed, with that faint, painful flicker of pleasure they all got when someone new acknowledged their chosen names. “Some of us wanted to try someplace other than 79s. We went to a cantina in the lower levels and I, uh, left early.” He coloured slightly, making it clear that he hadn't left alone, and he in no way wanted to talk to any High General about it. “These hut'uns jumped me as I was making my way back.”

Probably just opportunistic predators then. There were many on Coruscant who weren't happy about the war, and some of those had managed to twist things around to put the blame on the clones, rather than on the Senate and the Jedi Order. “They'll be arrested,” he promised. “And we will all be happy to act as witnesses if you wish to press charges. I'm sorry, this is unacceptable.”

Plo had produced a first aid kit from somewhere and was seeing to Dax's injuries. Adi had finished with her call and was talking to Mace, who along with Depa was keeping the prisoners restrained.

They should have done more to get the clones rights by now. That had been the idea when the Order had taken command of the GAR. Even with the notoriously slow pace of the Senate, no one had thought it would take more than a few months, at the very most. It was self-evident that the clones were people, just like any others, and in battle after battle, year after year they had proven themselves brave, loyal and trustworthy. By now they should have been full citizens of the Republic, able to decide what they wanted to do with their lives, free to choose whether or not they wanted to serve. They shouldn't have to desert just because they didn't want to fight. What had gone wrong? How had they failed so badly? Now there were those – even amongst the Council – talking as though they would need to wait until after the war to make any progress. As though it would take winning the war for the clones to earn their freedom.

Grief and anger rippled through him. The Jedi couldn't even take care of their own anymore. He thought of Qui-Gon, and wondered if they ever had.

He was so tired. They – he – had failed so often, and so badly.

The sound of footsteps had them all alert for a moment before a group of armoured troopers in 501st blue came rushing round the corner and, behind them -

“Anakin,” he smiled, his mood lifting immediately. “I thought you were with Padme.”

The tension ratcheted up immediately, and really, even if Anakin wanted to hide their relationship what was wrong with acknowledging that he and Padme were friends at least? “Master! I...what are you....that is, yes, I was with Senator Amidala for a short while this evening, but when we were finished...I mean, when our meeting was concluded....she had to work, and I went back to the Temple but you were gone,” he said, with a hint of indignation that made Obi-Wan wince. “So I went out with Rex and the troops.”

“General,” Rex chipped in, saluting crisply. “Generals. I see you've already tracked down our missing lamb.”

“Captain Rex, General Skywalker!” Dax's salute was a little sloppy. “Sorry, sirs, I got waylaid.”

“We heard the call for the security forces,” Rex said, glaring over at the group Mace, Depa and Adi still had against the wall and, with a couple of hand signs, the remaining troopers stepped up to keep an eye on them.

Everything seemed settled. Anakin was frowning at him suspiciously and Force, he was tired. It had been an exceptionally long day, he was decidedly somewhat drunk, and he wanted to go home. He took a few unsteady steps forwards and offered a bright smile. “Rex. Have you seen your brother?”

Rex turned his head to look at him and for a second his incredulity echoed loudly in the Force, followed swiftly by his amusement. “You're going to need to be a lot more specific, General.”

“Cody,” he answered. He'd asked Cody to discreetly check in with the 321st, hadn't he? They'd need to discuss that tomorrow, along with doing the resupply, and reorganising four battalions into three. Dimly he was aware of Anakin taking a couple of steps towards them as Rex turned away, speaking into his communicator.

“Cody, you might want to get down here. We've got your General.”

“Obi-Wan, are you drunk?” Anakin asked incredulously.

“Your powers of observation grow stronger, my padawan,” he said, making sure to properly enunciate each word.

Anakin's eyes were huge. “In front of the Council?!” he hissed, dragging Obi-Wan away by the arm as though trying to hide him.

There was something rather endearing about that. “Technically, these days, anytime I drink I'm in front of a member of the Council. Unless I'm not there, I suppose.”

“We've been with him all evening, Knight Skywalker,” Mace cut in suddenly. “I can assure you, Master Kenobi is not in any trouble with us.”

And that bought him a few seconds before Anakin turned his attention back onto Obi-Wan, hurt in his eyes. “You went out drinking with the Council? Are you alright? Why didn't you call me?”

“I thought you were with Padme,” he said, vaguely certain he'd already said that. But that wasn't the whole story anyway. He hadn't wanted Anakin to see him like this. Hadn't wanted him to see what a mess he was.

“I mean...” Anakin looked between him and Mace. “Why were you out here? Was there a mission, or is this official Council business?”

Mace sighed. “Just a night off, Skywalker. Closest we've come to official Council business was officially declaring Qui-Gon Jinn a dick.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. That...was a mistake. One that Mace would never have made sober.

He opened his eyes again just in time to see Anakin drawing himself up to his full height, tension radiating off every inch of him. “Qui-Gon Jinn was a great man,” he said, the storm threatening. “He doesn't deserve being bad-mouthed now that he's not here to speak up for himself. Particularly in front of his padawan.” He said that with a meaningful look towards Obi-Wan, as though Mace might have somehow missed their relationship.

Mace went to say something and Obi-Wan would have spoken up but then he became aware of a presence approaching and he turned and smiled. “Cody.”

Somehow, his Commander was by his shoulder. “Good evening, General.” He looked around, assessing the situation. “So, are we trying to help the seppie assassins by bunching all their most high profile targets in one spot?”

He smiled a little, taking comfort in the presence of most of his favourite people. He wondered if he could come up with a reason to call Ahsoka down here as well. Maybe Padme and Bail too. And the rest of the 212th. “I don't believe that was the plan, no. Just an unexpected side effect.”

Cody was studying him and he could feel the weight of his concern. “Bad night, sir?”

He hummed non-committally, glancing over to where Anakin was still glaring at Mace, though he thought there'd been another exchange or two he'd missed.

“Qui-Gon was supposed to be my master too,” Anakin snapped, fire in his eyes. “In an ideal world, he'd have raised me.”

Obi-Wan flinched, and for once it wasn't just Anakin's rejection that made his blood run cold. For a second he imagined Anakin - back when he'd been a child, back when he'd been so insecure, so desperate for affection and approval – having to navigate Qui-Gon's black moods, being ignored for weeks on end, having no-one to talk to, no-one to reach out to, tending to his own injuries while piloting the ship back to the Temple because Qui-Gon had locked himself up in the cabin and refused to be disturbed, being backhanded across the face because he'd pushed too hard at the wrong moment...being alone. Being hurt and frightened and alone.

He was standing directly in front of Anakin before he knew it, his hand pressed to Anakin's cheek. “I would never have let him raise you,” he promised. “You were always far too precious.”

Anakin stared at him. “Obi-Wan...?”

Suddenly conscious of everyone looking at him, he stepped back, tugging at his sleeves and vaguely wishing he was wearing his robes. “Yes. Well.” He turned ever so slightly, and Cody was there immediately, solid, supportive, not judging. “I believe I would like to go home now.”

“Of course, Obi-Wan,” Cody said, reaching out an arm for him. “I've got you.”

“Thank you.” His eyes flickered over the assembled company quickly and he offered a genial smile. “Goodnight, all.”

He ignored everything else, leaning on Cody, trusting him to get them home.d

#star wars fanfiction #star wars: the clone wars #tcw fanfiction #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #mace windu #commander cody

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