Chapter Text
“They’re waking Obi up today.”
Cody’s head snapped up at Bly’s words. Across the room, ‘17 paused his tinkering with his vambrace. The three clones traded glances.
“If we left now—”
“We can’t skip the land allocation meeting, and the representative from Sundari arrives this afternoon— uh, a Korkie Kryze, weird name— but if we wrap this up by late-meal, we could be there by early-meal tomorrow,” Bly replied, glancing up from the data pad. “The rest of the support staff can hold down the fort for a few days. They’re still processing the arrivals from ‘17’s Call.” They both glanced at ‘17, who looked conflicted, and grinned.
“Or, you could stay here, ‘17, and we could go,” Cody’s grin widened. “Then you could spend more time with— what’s her name again?”
“It’s Verity, Cody,” Bly answered in a long-suffering voice. “From Christophsis, clan Awaud. He’s only told us a hundred times.”
“If you don’t shut your mouths right now—”
“You’ll what? Go stare at her creepily while she plants flowers again?”
“They’re seeds, you don’t plant flowers, idiot. And she’s an archivist, her buir is the botanist—”
“Have you figured out what an archivist even is?”
Cody and Bly laughed as ‘17 spluttered. Verity was actually really nice for a natty, one of the few who had accepted them immediately— ‘17 probably had something to do with that— and she made amazing tiingilar. But ‘17’s sudden infatuation was an opportunity too good to pass up. Vengeance for a lifetime of training under that shabuir was so sweet.
“Yeah, let’s leave the Mand’alor here with the returning mando’ade and his new girlfriend, and we’ll comm over holo when we see Obi,” Bly settled down finally. “I’m sure he’ll want to come and see what we’ve been working on. Probably fix all of the dumb osik in a heartbeat.”
Cody chuckled, standing up and grabbing his buy’ce. “He does like a good project. Restoring Manda’lase isn’t quite on the same level as wiping out the galactic slave trade, but it might keep him busy enough. Plus, I need Anakin to fine-tune this—” he waved the cybernetic hand, painted white and egg-gold with red accents. “There’s a slight delay on the reflex that I need him to fix.” They marched out, chuckling as ’17 muttered behind them,
“I’m the fucking Mand’alor. No respect, at all.”
Clear across the galaxy, in a newly re-opened temple on Lothal, Mace Windu stared at a disgruntled Jedi master. Qui-Gon Jinn stared back at him across the table, arms crossed and face creased in a frown.
“I still don’t understand why I’m here.”
“And that’s why you’re here,” Mace sighed, scrubbing his cheek in exasperation. Anakin and Obi-Wan deserved knighthood, just for putting up with Jinn. From the corner, Ponds stifled a chuckle.
Beside him, Master Yoda twitched an ear. “Begin, we will, with the strange lack of empathy you have for Obi-Wan, hm. Lack of recognition for his contributions, you have. Strange, very strange.”
Qui-Gon blinked at him, nonplussed. Mace suppressed another sigh.
For getting to stay behind with Obi-Wan, Plo owed him a case of Alderaanian wine. And a vacation.
“If you don’t lock it down right now—” Wolffe began.
“Shut up, Wolffe,” he could hear Bacara’s eye-roll. “Let me enjoy this.” Wolffe shook his head as the clone scratched behind the rancor’s ear, nonplussed as the creature began to purr.
“Maul and Savage will be back any minute. We need to focus—”
“If you don’t stop ruining this for me, I’m gonna make sure Skir’ika eats you first.” Bacara scrambled up the beast’s rough hide, finding his seat just as Maul emerged from the swamp, wreathed in fog.
So fucking dramatic, Wolffe rolled his eyes from the safety of his bucket. Savage tramped in a few paces behind, looking equally done with this place and his brother. Dathomir was miles better than Tatooine, but still not great. He wouldn’t miss this place. The sooner they freed Maul’s brothers, the better.
Wolffe would not say that he enjoyed being the voice of reason and logic on these ventures, but Cody had asked him to keep an eye on the Marines, whose only goal in life was apparently “to fuck shit up,” and it was clear that Savage could only restrain Maul so much, so here he was. With Savage. And Maul. And the Marines, who were obsessed with Maul.
Cody owed him so much tihaar.
“We ready to roll?”
Maul grinned slowly, his fiery eyes dancing maliciously. “As your people would say, oya.”
Bacara chuckled darkly, as did the Marines surrounding them. “Oya.”
For fuck’s sake. SO much tihaar.
“Obi-Wan, it’s time.”
“It’s funny,” Obi-Wan straightened, brushing dirt-crusted hands on his pants. “As a child, I had been so fearful of going to the Agricorps, of not becoming a knight. But this has been lovely.”
“You’ve made wonderful progress,” Plo nodded, gazing about at the tidy rows of flowers and shrubs. “This is beautiful work. I particularly liked your gatekeeper with the riddles, and the vines in the arch. The sunflower maze that whispers advice as it redirects you away from the center was a nice touch. Lessons to the foolhardy hidden amongst the beauty.”
“The vines were a nice idea the first time around, just better messaging this time. And I am fond of puzzles. It was better to build these shields with happy, harmless memories, than the trials I had before,” Obi-Wan stroked his beard pensively. “Soona supported my idea of balancing peace and calm with hard-won knowledge. A Darksider would have a difficult time breaking through, which is the whole point.”
“Very wise,” Plo nodded. “And now, Obi-Wan, you are ready. And they are waiting for you.”
Peace-balance-courage-strength-
Obi-Wan glanced about wistfully. “I’m not done yet.”
“No one is ever done healing, Obi-Wan. We all are always healing, every day, from life’s great and small injuries. But you are strong enough to carry on without us now. Wake up.”
Bright light threatened to blind him through his closed eyelids, and Obi-Wan turned his head away, attempting to blink.
“Where am I?” he rasped.
“You’re on Backpay,” rumbled a familiar voice. “And I must say that I am glad to hear, that despite your trials, you have retained your excellent sense of humor.”
“Master Plo?” Obi-Wan fought to clear his vision, startling as a cool cloth passed over his face.
“This should help, Obi.” A straw found its way to his lips, and he drank greedily, dismayed when the straw disappeared too soon.
“Spar,” Obi-Wan sighed, the relief nearly sparking tears. “You’re okay. I’m so glad.”
“Mm.” A towel gently wiped his face again, and Obi-Wan blinked again to see an unimpressed clone staring at him. “Don’t make me regret waking you up now. Got it?”
Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile. “Sir, yes sir.”
“No running off, no jare’la, dini’la stunts, no heavy meals, no sex,” Spar rattled off flatly, and Obi-Wan winced.
“Yes, got it, thank you, Spar.”
“Mm.” He traded nods with the Kel Dor who radiated amusement as he sat down in the chair beside the bed. “He’s all yours.”
“Thank you, Spar,” Mast Plo nodded gravely. “I shall hold him to your guidance. Especially that last one.”
“Master Plo,” Obi-Wan groaned, mortified. The Jedi master chuckled.
“It is so good to see you alive, Obi-Wan. You gave us all a scare for a while.”
“What— what happened?”
“Your heart gave out,” Master Plo answered simply. “Your heart was weakened by the enormous strain you had put on it for ten years. Carrying strong emotions— especially vengeance— is no small task, and your endeavor to hold onto love and compassion while harboring such intense hatred and anger— it is incredible that you lasted so long. The final battle was too much, though, and as you attempted to let go of the hatred, your heart finally gave out.”
“Oh,” Obi-Wan said faintly, overwhelmed. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Meaning?”
He shrugged weakly. “I never was very good at avoiding attachments.”
“Obi-Wan, you know there is a difference between love and attachment. You may have felt possessive at times, willing to do terrible things for them— but you were willing to let your partner and his clones go, and sacrifice yourself for their happiness. That is not attachment— that is the most selfless love there is. You were willing to damn yourself to secure their freedom, to end the misery of galactic slavery and corruption. What more selfless love could there be?”
Obi-Wan didn’t answer, confounded by this point of view.
“How do you feel now?”
“Light— too light— like I could float away,” Obi-Wan whispered, wincing at the tremble in his voice. Master Plo nodded.
“The weight of your grief and anger has lifted. It is a heavy burden, one that can grow without notice until we are crippled by it. We — Healer Soona and I— worked with you while you were unconscious to heal some of the damage—"
“I remember,” Obi-Wan said softly.
“—which gives you an advantage in your recovery. But now you must continue the work.”
“I don’t— I am too weak, now,” Obi-wan admitted, his eyes burning. “I don’t feel the pull to the Dark Side now, but I Fell so easily last time—“
“No, Obi-Wan. You were tested beyond anything a padawan should ever have to face, and you were failed by your master and the Order, repeatedly,” countered Master Plo gently. “It is the work of a lifetime to find true balance, Obi-Wan. Peace is not a lie, but it is elusive, and takes work to maintain. You are strong, and unafraid of hard work. You can do this. I have faith in you.”
“My apprentice says peace is a promise,” Obi-Wan whispered.
“Then your padawan is carrying on the excellent tradition of teaching their own masters a lesson or two. I advise heeding his lesson.”
“You know,” Obi-Wan began unevenly, swallowing hard, “the worst part of it all was that I never understood what I did wrong. Why— why I was never good enough, why it was so easy to cast me aside. Why it was so easy for me to slip through the cracks. And while I could never condone my grandmaster’s plan of annihilation for the Order, I couldn’t make peace with what happened to me. Because I didn’t understand.”
Master Plo sighed. “It is a reasonable feeling. It is one that has confounded all of us lately, and a few of us for some time now. I cannot answer for Master Jinn’s logic and behavior, but I can assure that he is being taken to task for it, and will likely never take another padawan, among other sanctions.
“As for the rest of the Order’s failure— it should never have been down to Master Vos, Knight Secura, and Knight Skywalker to seek out resolution, and ensure your wellbeing. And while I would like to blame the Dark Side for obscuring much in the past several decades, we have begun the hard work of examining our systems and processes, to prevent such a failure again. I am sorry, Obi-Wan. On behalf of the Order, you deserved far better.”
Obi-Wan nodded, too overwhelmed to answer. The Kel Dor seemed content to wait quietly, glancing peaceably out the open window as Obi-Wan dried his eyes on the corner of the bed sheet. After a long moment, Obi-Wan tried again.
“What— what happened? To the Order?”
“They were spared a genocide, thanks to you,” Master Plo’s voice was warm with pride. “Your… presentation… brought many systemic failures to light. In short, the Order has divested from the Republic and spread out to repopulate the old temples. The Republic is in the process of a restructure, and is already much smaller. You are technically banned from entering the Republic, but you have a blanket exemption at Naboo and Alderaan.”
“Oh,” Obi-Wan said faintly.
There was a knock at the door, and a tall youth ambled in awkwardly, freezing as he realized that Obi-Wan was awake.
“Uh, hey,” Anakin waved sheepishly.
Obi-Wan frowned. “Anakin? What are you doing here?” A jolt of alarm bolted through him as he eyed the door behind him.
“Oh no, he’s not here. He’s stuck— I mean— assigned to Lothal,” Anakin replied hastily. “It’s just… me. Oh, and Master Plo and Master Windu and Master Quinlan. They let me tag along a lot. Well, Master Quinlan just left but…umm… yeah. Just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
“Have you been visiting me regularly?” Obi-Wan squinted at him, confused. There was a movement behind Anakin, and Fox blurred past him, throwing himself face-first into Obi-Wan’s side opposite Plo, their bond radiant with joy-relief-affection.
“Anakin is part of the reason you’re still alive, Obi-Wan,” Master Koon answered gently. “Jango kept doing compressions, while Anakin and Fox used the Force to help stabilize you until we could transport you to the Healing Halls. Together, they kept you tethered to this plane until we could establish new bonds to help you heal.”
“It was wizard,” Anakin grinned. “I’ve never funneled energy to another person like that before.”
“That’s… incredibly dangerous,” Obi-Wan frowned. He lifted the hand that was stroking, Fox’s shaggy curls, which had grown longer in the past month, and poked him in the forehead. “I told you to never do that again, Fox’ika. And Anakin, I just— why would you do that for me? I was never very kind to you.”
Anakin scoffed, disbelieving. “Are you ser— you could have just left me in the apartment for three weeks. You didn’t have to do all the stuff you did with my clothes and classes and swimming lessons and everything, knowing full well what Master Qui-Gon had planned. Yeah, you were mad, but you had a pretty good reason to be, and you still helped me anyway. And you could have killed me at the Senate Dome, but you didn’t. And you dismantled the galactic slave trade! I mean—”
“I think he gets the point,” Master Koon said gently, as Obi-Wan wiped his eyes again. Fox’s hug around his midriff tightened. “Awareness of his own value will take time, young Skywalker. But it is good of you to point it out his own kindness to him. Even if you hadn’t done all of this, Obi-Wan, you deserved mercy and support. Anakin’s assistance on behalf of the Order was long overdue, even if it wasn’t a recompense he personally owed.”
“Plus, working with Fox is kinda cool,” Anakin grinned, faltering as Fox’s head popped up, unimpressed.
“Kinda cool?”
“I mean, you know,” Anakin flailed, looking to Master Plo and Obi-Wan for help, “since you, uh, had a, um, non-traditional education, and you got to learn from Obi-Wan, who’s awesome, but also has been, you know, uh— struggling a bit lately—”
“I see you have studied from the Qui-Gon Jinn School of Diplomacy,” Obi-Wan commented drily, delighted to find that the reference didn’t hurt. In fact, he only felt amusement as Fox barked a laugh and Master Plo chuckled, while Anakin spluttered.
“It was a compliment!”
“And kindly intended, thank you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan smiled. “Perhaps later you two can show me what you’ve been working on.” Fox beamed.
“You didn’t tell me that padawans used to sky-dive off of the Temple spires! Anakin showed me, it’s wild, we just jump out of a gunship and—”
“You what?” Obi-Wan jolted upright, as Anakin’s eyes went wide.
“Oh, uh, look at the time, I’ve gotta—” and he bolted, the wooden door clattering shut behind him.
“And now I sense that we should give Obi-Wan some space for his next guest,” Master Plo rose from the chair. Fox gave Obi-Wan one last hug before rising as well, slipping out the door after Anakin. Master Plo had nearly reached it himself, when the door was flung wide, sunshine streaming in.
Then the silhouette of Jango filled the doorway.
For a moment, they just stared at each other. Then Jango was at his side, in the chair that Master Koon had wisely vacated.
“How do you feel? Are you hungry?”
Obi-Wan stared at him, his heart full and yet so confounded.
“You came after me.”
Jango frowned slightly, bemused. “Of course I did.”
“And you love me.”
A blush climbed Jango’s throat and stained his cheeks, but he held Obi-Wan’s gaze steadily. “Yes, I do.”
“I tried to kill you.”
“Eh— not really,” he held up a wobbly hand. “You weren’t trying very hard—”
“But—”
“You could have snapped my neck in a heartbeat, could have run me through a million times,” Jango interrupted.
“I deceived you— I used the Force against you— and then I tried to kill you— why are you still smiling?”
“Because you’re copik’la when you’re confused,” Jango chuckled. “And because your ability to twist a good thing into a bad thing is unparalleled. No wonder the Senate didn’t stand a chance against you—“
“This is no time for jokes, Jango—“
“Yes, I came after you, even after you put me to sleep and I woke up to find my boys scattered across the karking galaxy dismantling slavery and my cyare halfway to Coruscant by himself. Because, as you pointed out, I love you. And I wasn’t about to let my idiot cyare get himself killed by the karking Jedi or some Sith. And I have a theory as to why you didn’t kill me, even after you lost control.”
“Oh?” It came out strangled, and Jango smiled, leaning forward.
“I think… you love me too.”
“I…” his eyes fell to Master Koon, who had paused on his way out the door. The Kel Dor chuckled.
“Balance, Obi-Wan. Love and attachment are not the same. You’ll find your balance.”
Obi-Wan shifted his gaze back to a very self-satisfied Jango. “Then I suppose your theory is correct.”
“That’s not a ‘no’.”
“Oh, you impossible man—” but he couldn’t help melting as the Mandalorian leaned in for a toe-curling kiss.
“Come, let’s get you out of this room. Slowly, it’s been a month,” Jango admonished as Obi-Wan gingerly swung his legs over the side of the bed. He found muscled arms bracing him as he stood up carefully, testing a few steps.
“I think I’m okay, but I would appreciate your arm, if you’d be so kind,” he smiled as Jango rolled his eyes.
“Always the silver-tongued negotiator.” But he shifted to one side, wrapping an arm around Obi-Wan’s waist before guiding him out of the room.
Outside, most of the clones cheered at the sight of Obi-Wan and Jango, mingled with a few wolf-whistles. One cheeky trooper— Slick, if Obi-Wan was right— shouted, “get a room!”
“You know, those boys have no respect for us now,” Jango’s irritated tone was undercut by the fondness of his Force signature. Obi-Wan chuckled.
“Is that right.”
“Don’t worry, they still love you. Me— Fordo’s tried to sucker-punch me twice in the past month.”
“Well that’s no good. I’ll talk to him. You should have a sporting chance,” he laughed as Jango jostled his shoulder in mock annoyance, immediately undercut by the Mando lacing their fingers together. “Why exactly don’t they respect us?”
“It seems we spent a few years teaching them very similar plans, without actually communicating with each other.” He paused, glancing at Obi-Wan. “You taught them Amatakka?”
“There was a risk you knew it,” Obi-Wan conceded. Jango shook his head.
“I never learned. Didn’t want to, on the freighter— didn’t want to accept my reality, I think.”
Obi-Wan gently squeezed their linked hands.
“And I taught them Mando’a, as their birthright,” Jango chuckled. “One language from each parent.”
“How are things with Mandalore?” Obi-Wan asked, almost dreading the answer.
“A shit-show, so business as usual,” Jango shrugged, unconcerned. “But it’s not for me to fix. ’17— he goes by Alpha now— challenged me for the Darksaber and won. Got a nice dent in my buy’ce as a souvenir, too. So Mandalore’s his problem now. Cody, Fox and Bly are supporting him, so it’s going better than if I had done it. Even the New Mandalorians are defecting to our side; your Force osik would be useful to sniff out the rats, just in case. Fox has caught two, so far.”
“I am good at identifying liars,” Obi-Wan chuckled. “Except for myself, apparently. Where is Wolffe?”
“Helping Maul rescue the Nightbrothers from Dathomir.”
Obi-Wan blinked. “I’ve missed a lot.”
“There’s a million of them, cyare,” Jango chuckled. “And they learned to over-achieve from you. Every time I take a nap, I wake up to a new slavery ring dismantled or a trade agreement brokered. They’ll slow down eventually, though. Cody is Vod’alor, so he’ll rein them all in when he feels it’s time. And Thire, Rex and ‘99 still have everything under control here.”
“Where’s Ponds?”
“With the Jedi,” judging by the tone shift, Jango wasn’t impressed with that choice. “On Lothal. Volunteered to liaise with the Order on the Vode’s behalf.”
“He’ll do wonderfully,” Obi-Wan sighed, smiling. “So what else have I missed?”
“Mostly me trying to catch up on all the details of your plan,” Jango chuckled. “Backpay’s pretty nice.”
“I did tell them they could change the name—”
“Nah, they like it. We’re a little short on barracks, and the boys don’t really know what they’re doing with farming, so your Agricorps has sent a team to set up barracks and teach some companies how to farm. And some Educorps teams came too. They’ve been running skills workshops. I think the bed you’ve been sleeping in was built by Jesse; there was a competition in the carpentry class for the honors, Styles nearly lost a finger in the process—“
“That sounds like Styles.” Obi-Wan glanced at Jango. “And that’s okay? The Agricorps and the Educorps helping?”
Jango shrugged. “Wasn’t my call. This isn’t my planet, it’s the boys’. And they’ve been helpful.” He sighed, and the snarl of emotions spiked in the Force before subsiding. “Part of me will never stop hating the Jedi. I know it’s irrational, and I’m working on it, but the hate— the loss— but I can compartmentalize when I need to.”
Obi-Wan hummed, glancing about. It was better than he’d hoped, and a reasonable response given Jango’s history.
“And before you spiral, you’re stuck with me no matter what you end up being,” Jango added, his voice gruff. Obi-Wan laughed, leaned over to kiss his cheek before stumbling slightly.
“Thank you, dear. It’s more than I—”
“No, don’t you start on that osik,” Jango frowned. “And I know you know Mando’a so don’t play dumb, either.”
“Start in what?”
“The ‘I’m not worthy’ osik.”
“It’s not—”
“Ob’ika. Cyare. If I told you that it was your friend Quinlan who had done all of those things—“
“You know Quinlan?”
“What would you say? Would you call him weak? Evil?”
“I— no,” Obi-Wan answered softly, startled. “No, I would not.”
“Would you consider yourself a fool for caring about Quinlan, knowing what he’s done? Would you abandon him?”
“It’s — no, of course not—“
“Then trust me, and your jetii friends, and the ade. Trust our judgment. No one is ever too far gone.”
Too moved for words, Obi-Wan merely nodded.
“I know for a fact that you’ve been working with the jetiise on that while you were sleeping, so you’re going to believe me when I say that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Every deception was for a good reason, and I don’t hold it against you. You nearly gave up your life for me and the boys and this whole shab’la galaxy when you could have sat back and watched it burn. So yes, you’re very much worthy of my love.”
Obi-Wan swallowed thickly. “I don’t think you can just will someone into believing you, Jango.”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“What? No,” Obi-Wan replied instantly, somewhat taken aback.
“Good. Then just take the karking compliment, cyare.”
Obi-Wan burst into laughter, too winded to see Jango’s smile of satisfaction. “Yes, dear.”
“That said, if you ever pull that shit again, I will have Spar sedate your shebs faster than you can blink, and then I’ll tie you to a bed with Force-dampening cuffs.”
“Kinky,” Obi-Wan grinned. “And noted. I will do my best to not test your patience.”
Jango sighed, shaking his head. “That’s exactly what Quinlan said you’d say.”
“So you’re friends with Quinlan?”
“Can’t stand him.”
Obi-Wan snorted. “I would have been surprised if you were. Where is Quinlan?”
“Somewhere near Batuu, I think. He was chasing a dar’jetii— Ventress?”
“Oh no,” Obi-Wan laughed. “They’re perfect for each other.”
Jango sighed, kissed his temple, then gazed about the landscape. “This is my favorite spot. It’s so peaceful.”
Obi-Wan followed his gaze. Some industrious individual had built a low, rough bench that looked out at a wide pond in the clearing. The sun had cleared the tree line, and lit the pond, small ripples shivering like quicksilver across its surface. A gentle breeze whispered through the pines, stirring its sharp, crisp scent into the air. The scene hummed gently in the Force, the vitality of the surrounding forest and the creatures in the pond offset by the quiet decay of dead leaf litter and smaller creatures that had made a tasty breakfast. There was peace in the balance. Obi-Wan could not imagine anything more beautiful in this moment.
“Yes,” he breathed. “It is very peaceful.”
“To a Mandalorian, peace is a lie,” Jango chuckled. “A trick by Arasuum, the god of Sloth.” Obi-Wan smiled.
“The Sith call it a lie as well. But to a Jedi, it is emotion, yet peace. Finding the calm amidst the chaos and the suffering, not letting it consume you.”
“Huh.” There was a long pause, broken only by trilling birdsong, and the gentle lap of the pond’s waters at the edge of the shore. “That sounds doable. If we do it together, I mean.”
Obi-Wan chuckled. “And if I can never give you peace?”
Jango’s smile was lazy, yet fond. “At least I’ll never be bored.” He sighed. “Emotion, yet peace.”
“Emotion, yet peace,” Obi-Wan echoed, feeling the Force sing in response. “I think we can do it.”
“That’s the spirit, cyare.”
“So what now?”
Jango glanced at him, scrutinizing. “Depends. Do you trust me?”
“Of course,” Obi-Wan frowned. “Why?”
Jango pulled something from his pocket, and held it up. Obi-Wan frowned. “A mirror? What—” he trailed off, stunned.
Blue, tear-filled eyes stared back at him.
“We keep going,” Jango said gently, wiping a tear from Obi-Wan’s cheek. “A life well-lived. Okay?”
Obi-Wan smiled through the tears.
“Okay.”