the-multiversal-asterisk

[autistic-puffin]

this is definitely my shout into the void of mandalorian fandom but does anyone feel like this season (and the whole bobf interlude) basically exist to undo season 2?

i don't think it's necessarily an intentional thing, but the whole point of season 2 was Find Grogu A Jedi, plus Din Having Mandalorian Inner Conflict. and yet all the major points of season 2, including grogu's name reveal, were all either reversed or criticized in-show.

within two episodes (of an ENTIRELY DIFFERENT SHOW), grogu is back with din, just like that. din's relationship with the children of the watch is thrown into question when he meets bo katan, and then later with mayfeld - and then of his own accord he decides to take his helmet off to say goodbye to grogu. and now we're right back where we started, except grogu has a name (which has at least twice been criticized by other characters) and can do force jumps now.

this isn't to say that the rest of season 3 won't delve deeper into din's identity and beliefs as a mandalorian, or even into grogu's need for instruction on being force-sensitive. i really, really hope that they will explore that at least a little.

it just feels to me that they wanted to rapidly undo their decisions from season 2, especially given that grogu is such a big draw and (at least in my understanding) is part of what makes the show a commercial success (aka something d*sney wants to continue making)

which definitely feels hollow from a story-telling standpoint, but also we saw two different giant repitilian beasts within 3 episodes so i guess i can't realllyyyyy complain (/lh)

[wr1t3-my-wr0ngs]

Remembering Yesterday's Tomorrow (In the Here and Now) - Part 5

-------------

The darkness stretches infinitely. Ahead of her, the only thing Ahsoka can see is the bright shape of Morai, the convor unfailingly flying forward, and the ever-constant blackness that presses in from all directions. And it does press like a physical weight —she can feel it on her skin, a cross between the atmosphere of a planet that has a different gravity, and being submitted in water.

She is viscerally reminded of her time spent in the World Between Worlds, where the rules of conventional gravity and time did not apply. But in comparison, this place feels wild, untouched. No paths of light or dancing stars or infinite doors mark the landscape. It hadn't occurred to her before now that the World Between that she had experienced with Ezra had been artificial, constructed by someone or some group to be just as much a part of the temple on Lothal as any other room or mural.

Walking through the endless void, it seems a little obvious in retrospect.

It's unclear how long she has been following her avian companion, concepts such as hours, minutes and seconds, have no use in this place. There is the sense that she has been walking for a while, but even that is only a vague notion that sits in the back of her mind like the dawning of an idea before it has coalesced. She only knows that she is not where she was when she set out, Rex's grave having disappeared from view almost as soon as she had decided to follow Morai.

Rex.

Her heart twists at the thought of him; the aching loss still too fresh to be touched without dredging up the pain. She touches it anyway; lets herself grieve without shame or obligation, remembering the joy along with the sorrow. His smile, hidden behind his beard, a little crooked and always so genuine; the sound of his voice as he sang in the shower, the embarrassed flush on his face when caught in the act, but willing to oblige with a song when asked; the way he never looked at her with resentment when she had to go and the overwhelming, pulsing, warm joy he broadcasted every time she returned, no matter how long she was away.

Deep inside, she wishes they had more time together, wishes that it hadn't taken so long for her to recognize that her feelings for the clone ran deeper than just friendship. Not the sweeping romantic feelings her old master harbored for his wife, or even the quiet longing between Obi-wan and Santine. It had taken her years to realize that she didn't have those sorts of inclinations and even longer to reconcile it with her ability and capacity to love. She's still not entirely sure she understands it herself but is forever grateful for Rex, who took the time to try and understand and learn, put in his share of effort to make things work between them.

A chirp from Morai brings her back to her surroundings, a little surprised to find that she had stopped walking at some point, her cheeks damp with tears. The bird hovers before her, head tilted with concern, and settles on Ahsoka's shoulder, nuzzling her beak against the Togrutas montral.

Despite herself, Ahsoka smiles and gently strokes the soft feathers before drying her eyes. Morai hoots once before taking off back into the dark, and Ahsoka, heart still full, follows.

---

To say that Anakin Skywalker is frustrated would be the understatement of the galaxy. It's been almost two weeks since Umbara, two weeks since he left his men in the hands of Krell, two weeks of his Captain being locked away for doing something Anakin does not, cannot fault him for. Just thinking about Krell brings a snarl to his face.

Good riddance, he thinks as he works on writing up his latest report, jamming the stylus too hard against the datapad screen. Not even the sun, shining brightly through the window by his desk, or the feeling of thousands of lifeforms in the force bustling around Coruscant, can lighten his mood.

Yes, Anakin Skywalker is frustrated and angry. Frustrated because Rex doesn't deserve to be kept as a prisoner, mad because he should have known. What good is being the kriffing chosen one if he can't spot a karking Sith Sympathiser when they are standing right in front of him?

All at once, the anger leaves him and is replaced, as it has been off and on since he got the news of Umbara, by the underlying guilt and shame. He should have been there, not flying back to Coruscant to take care of some whim of the Supreme Chancellors. 

For the first time in a long time, he resents his old friend. Rationally, he knows Palpatine must have thought he had a good reason, and that perhaps if it were anyone but Rex on the line, he would be able to forgive the older man after a few days. He knows he'll forgive his friend eventually; after all, it was an accident. It's not as if the old senator could have known Krell's true agenda.

But for now, Anakin is still mad. Because it's Rex, his second in command, one of the best damn soldiers he has ever known, and the missions haven't been the same without him, have practically ground to a halt in his absence. More than that, the Captain is one of the few people the Jedi truly considers as a friend.  Someone who doesn't give two shits about the so-called prophecy or his relationship to it, who has seen him at his most ridiculous and still respects him. Is one of the two people -not counting Padmé herself- that knows about his relationship with his wife.

And friends don't just let friends sit in a cell, waiting on either freedom or a death sentence.

A knock on the door pulls him from his reverie.

"Enter."

The door opens with a swish, revealing, to his surprise, Obi-Wan, dressed only in robes for a change, his chest plate and vambrace elsewhere for the time being, looking haggard.

Amusement briefly flickers across the old bond from his Master, before Obi-Wan slumps into the only other chair in the room.

Glad for the excuse to set aside his report, Anakin turns to face the bearded man.

"I didn't expect to see you planetside."

"I'm only here for your Captains Court Marshal. I thought it best if I gave my testimony in person rather then via holo-call. I ship back out to the front lines tomorrow."

Anakin scowls at the mention of the trial but quickly drops it with a sigh.

"Thank you."

Obi-Wan nods.

"He's a good man and doesn't deserve to be punished for his actions on Umbara."

The bearded Jedi pauses in the way that Anakin has come to know means that his former Master wants to say something, but isn't sure how to approach the topic.

"Have you spoken to him yet?"

Inwardly, Anakin curses himself. He thought he had control over his tumultuous emotions, tight enough that they wouldn't spill into the bond with his master and let Obi-Wan glimpse his rolling guilt and anger. Apparently, his control wasn't as good as he had thought.

"Not yet, " he responds truthfully, picking back up the half-finished report and feigning interest, hoping that the appearance of having work to do will discourage Obi-Wan from his line of questioning.

It seems to work, as his former Master goes silent for a few moments. Just when he thinks that Obi-Wan has dropped the topic and that it's safe to put down the report, the older Jedi speaks.

"I think you should visit him. I imagine that it's starting to get a little lonely and that a supportive face might do Rex some good."

To anyone who hadn't grown up under the tutelage of Obi-Wan Kenobi, the double meaning would be subtle, sounding like nothing more than concern for the Clone Captains well being. Anakin does not have that disadvantage, and catches what his Master isn't saying. How visiting Rex might do him some good too.

Anakin takes a moment to breathe deeply before looking at his Master, a sharp reply on the tip of his tongue about being coddled this late in his life, only to cut himself off. Obi-Wan looks tired. Shoulders slumped forward, and the young Jedi briefly wonders how much of his Master's posture in the battlefield is due to the confines of his chest plate and pauldrons enforcing the rigid set to his shoulders.

Gently he reaches out through their shared bond, taking the measure of the bearded man's intentions. He finds nothing malicious, only love and concern, and it feels to his mind, forever the product of a hot and sandy planet, like a cool blanket being draped around his shoulders after a day working in the suns.

"I'll visit him tomorrow."

Obi-Wan smiles, and Anakin finds himself smiling back. With that, the conversation drops into a lull, the two men chatting aimlessly about one thing and another, before eventually checking back around to Obi-Wans up coming mission.

"Where is the Council sending you off to this time?"

"Kiros. It seems the colony there is feeling mounting pressure from the war and has requested aid."

Recognition sparks in the back of Anakin's mind. He was supposed to be joining that mission, but with the trial proceedings running longer than expected, the order had opted not to assign the Knight. Anakin understands the thinking, that doesn't mean he has to like it, but at the same time, he's grateful that he won't be abandoning Rex to his fate alone.

"They found someone to accompany you after all?"

Obi-Wan hums.

"Indeed. Master Ti found herself available, and we are hoping that her presence as a fellow Togruta will help things go over more smoothly."

Anakin huffs in amusement.

"They're an artisans colony, shouldn't be too hard."

The Jedi Master tilts his head in concession and smiles, relaxing back into the chair.

"It will be nice to have a relatively easy mission for a change."

---

Rex is starting to go a little stir crazy. A side effect he had not considered when he had decided to take responsibility for Krell's death. His immediate thoughts had been to keep his men out of harm's way, fix one last piece of the mess that was Umbara.

In hindsight, his plan was a bit shortsighted, but he honestly didn't know what to expect after - if he would still be around or if the galaxy had finished toying with him and would let him march ahead and rest with his brothers.

Two weeks of waking up in a cell, at first on Umbara, later on, a star destroyer, and finally on Coruscant, had cemented the notion that the Captain was in this whatever this is for the long haul. It had also lost its novelty rather quickly. Despite the growing restlessness, only alleviated by the occasional walk to and from the senate building to give testimony, it has given him time to think. Even so, he hasn't come to a decision and so he runs through his options one more time.

He knows Palpatine is corrupt, is the shadow figurehead wielding two separate armies for control of the galaxy, is responsible for the death and misery of millions.

It would be easy to do nothing. To let the war and rebellion play out as they did. He knows that Palatine will get what's coming to him in due time.

Rex buries his face in his hands and feels like a coward for even considering the idea. But the alternative is daunting: Stop the Empire before it can even exist, more so then it already does (it's sickening to see how much is already in place, to realize that between the Separatists and the Republic, the Empire already stretches across the Galaxy, is in every home and hyperspace lane. Seeds of a dark and totalitarian regime just waiting to sprout). He doesn't even know how he would start or if it's even possible to change things on such a large scale.

But things are already different. In small ways, yes, but still distinct from what they were.

Dogma, Hardcase, and a handful of other troopers that would have died (did die once) because of Krell's orders, alive and ready for a fight.

Burgeoning hope roots itself under his ribs, a fragile thing that Rex is afraid to cling too tightly to and accidentally kill, so he lets it sit near his heart, next to his joy and sorrow, and contemplates what it would take to change the fate of the galaxy.

Help, his mind supplies, I need help.

He can't do this alone. It's a risk involving others- letting anyone in on the knowledge he has, or even his suspicions, will raise questions, some that he won't be able to answer truthfully. Even in the privacy of his own mind having experienced it for himself, time travels as an explanation sounds ridiculous, and not everyone will be as willing to believe him as Fives.

And although Rex trusts his brother and knows that Fives will have his back in this, two soldiers do not a rebellion make. But it is a start.

More than people, Rex needs information, connections that can help him prove the Chancellor's corruption. His own set of skills in information gathering is, admittedly, limited, although more comprehensive than it was before he had lived through the Empire. But success hinges on convincing people to join him, and for that, he needs proof.

A face comes to mind, unbidden, and it gives the Captain pause. His first instinct is to bury the idea as deep as he can. Senator Amidala is, by all counts, not someone Rex wants to risk in this endeavor. But he can't deny that she would be nearly perfect for the task, is reasonably sure that she already has a list of the Chancellors more questionable decisions and policies.

The longer he thinks about it, the better he likes the idea. She's an intelligent woman, who Rex knows (if he can recruit her) will understand the risks and the stakes, knows she already has connections of her own, and isn't afraid to get her hands dirty.

One thing is for certain, should he find out, General Skywalker will kill him.