#korkie is trying to be helpful but ahsoka is like ''FEELINGS WHAT FEELINGS'' so it's tough

[jessicas-pi]

#3 for the wip ask game

Yay!

3. currently untitled spiteful-positivity-fueled rexsoka AU of my non-rexsoka medieval AU (it's complicated)

---

Ahsoka scowled. “Are you kidding me, Kork?”

“Don’t call me that, and, no.”

“You are not saying he’s not nice to me because he likes me.”

Korkie blew a raspberry. “Of course not! Your Captain’s too mature for that. I mean, he’s putting emotional distance between the two of you because he, one, knows he has feelings for you, and two, believes that even though you like him too, the match would never be accepted.”

She was openly gaping at him now.

“I beg your pardon, Korkie Kryze?!”

Oh, dear. She was mad now. “Not that there’s anything wrong with it! It’s just that—well—people don’t always like clones. You saw how many foreign nobles talked about the Queen of yours who married her Commander! And your friend—Ai-kel—we all know his father is a clone, but his mother can’t publicly acknowledge the marriage, so rumors fly! And that Knight, the Twi’lek, I can’t recall her name—her guard loves her, we all know that, but he won’t say anything because he won’t let people shun her! I’d bet you anything Rex is like that too. He—”

“Korkie.”

Ahsoka’s voice was strangled as she reached over and gripped his sleeve.

“You said though.”

“…huh?”

She pulled him a little closer. “You said though. Even though I like him. Not even if I liked him.”

Korkie blinked a few times. “Was I… not… supposed to… acknowledge… that?”

[impossibleprincess35]

[WIP Wednesday]

Okay, so I'm trying to organize my Google Docs and get my NaNoWriMo going, so I'm going to share this and then delete it from my files. It was going to be in Asphodel, but then I took the story another way, so this was useless. But I liked it too much to get rid of it. Until today. :)

Background: Satine denies that Korkie is Obi-Wan's, except that Ahsoka and Anakin return from the "Corruption" arc in TCW and gossip spreads throughout the Temple that Obi-Wan's got a kid. (In Asphodel, he goes undercover before he learns of the gossip, so this is non-applicable. Originally, he was going to call her and..)

In the middle of her thoughts, a chime pinged out into the room, summoning her back to the moment. She looked up from the holo-files on her desk and grabbed her comlink, activating it.

It was Obi-Wan.

“Hello there, you perpetual-yet-beautiful pain in my ass,” came his voice as he appeared in a cloud of blue light. He was standing handsomely in his armor, and for a moment, she almost smiled.

The holo-glow was blinding in her office as Satine stood up and moved about the room, organizing and putting away things that had piled up on her desk. She hadn’t expected such a greeting but he was in rare form it seemed. Turning to look at the holo, Satine remarked dryly, “Look what the Core Worlds dragged in. Hello, General Kenobi. Is there something I can help you with today? I am very busy.”

Obi-Wan snickered and said, “I regret upsetting your schedule. I can see how overwhelmed you must be, straightening up your office. My, things in Mandalore must be wild.”

Satine sighed and said nothing, sadly gazing upon the holo-files that contained the dossiers on four of her guards.

Oblivious as to what she was really preoccupied with, Obi-Wan got to the point abruptly: “Satine, I’ve got half the Jedi Temple here in Coruscant gossiping about a supposed baby of ours. Do you know anything about this?”

Turning from the bookcase to glare at the holo, she appeared in shock as she responded, “You must be joking. Tell me you’re drunk.”

“No, not at all,” Obi-Wan responded sardonically, crossing his arms over his chest. “Apparently, the baby is your nephew. That darling boy you call Korkie,” he paused and shook his head and sidelined the conversation for a moment as he muttered under his breath, “A most unfortunate nickname. I hope you feel bad about that name, because you should.”

Walking back over to her desk and leaning her hip into the furniture, Satine rolled her eyes, “I’ve told you this before: I did not give him the name. It’s the name the nurses in Cadera gave him. Who am I to change someone’s name?”

Obi-Wan glared at her in the holo and then he raised an eyebrow, “Need I remind you, Duchess of Mandalore, that you call me Ben almost exclusively?”

Satine made a face, a bit sheepish at how he turned her remark around on her, and protested, “It just rolls off the tongue so much quicker when we’re arguing.” She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned, “Back to the point, what is going on in Coruscant?”

His jaw was tight as he explained, “The other sources of stress in my life known as Anakin Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano returned from Sundari raving about how Korkie resembles me. There was a conversation had about how he touches his chin like I do.” Obi-Wan looked exasperated at that, and he shrugged. “Everyone has become completely unhinged over here. Ahsoka shared the gossip with another padawan, and now the whole Temple is talking about it.”

“Oh dear,” Satine frowned, sitting on the edge of her desk as she looked away and thought back to when Ahsoka and Anakin had been there.

Obi-Wan rubbed his face with his hand and continued, “I have been asked to meet with the Council, not as a colleague, but rather before them so they can discuss the concerns that have been raised.”

This was what she had always been afraid of. She looked over at him in the blue glow of the holo and frowned, “I’m sorry, Ben. I can assure you, there was nothing we did from our end to give that impression.” And she was being truthful. She had never presented Korkie as anyone’s son, and if he had been Obi-Wan’s, she certainly wouldn’t have paraded him around in front of fellow Jedi Knights and padawans.

Looking at her with a grave expression on his face, Obi-Wan’s tone was low and somber as he implored, “Satine, is he my son?”

She bristled at the question and exclaimed, “Stars, no!”

“Satine.”

Leaning across the desk an inch or so in an effort to get closer to the image of him, Satine glared, “He is not your son, Obi-Wan.”

He narrowed his eyes, bringing his hand to his chin thoughtfully, “But the hair?”

“He had it when I found him.”

“And his face?”

“Plenty of people have high cheekbones.”

“And this?” he gestured to his hand resting at his chin.

Satine made a tired expression at him, “Darling, I picked up that habit from you, and Korkie picked it up from me. What can I say?”

“And his interest in lightsabers?” Obi-Wan looked serious as he asked that question, and when Satine laughed out loud in response, he seemed taken aback.

“If being interested in a lightsaber made someone your son, then guess what? You’re also Caepo’s father. Congratulations.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at her and was quiet for a moment as he thought everything over. He had called her in a fury, angered to learn that his grandpadawan had spread gossip throughout the padawan dorms. His old friend Jedi Master Luminara Unduli had been the one to pull him aside on the meditation balconies and ask him if the rumors were true. She had ardently defended him, but the talk was spreading quickly.

“We’ve always been careful, yes?” Obi-Wan asked Satine, then corrected himself, “Well, no, there was that one time. Before Master Qui-Gon and I found Anakin. But you had already brought home Korkie.”

She nodded, following his timeline as she revisited memories in her mind, “We were nineteen when I was returned to Sundari, and we were twenty when you returned as an emissary.”

Obi-Wan frowned, “We certainly didn’t do our due diligence there, did we?”

The memory of their first sexual encounter was vivid in her mind, as Satine recalled the way it hadn’t been planned. It had been impulsive. As they fumbled through the motions of losing their virtue to one another, the last thing on their minds had been contraception. The slow burn of their mutual attraction had clouded all of their combined intelligence and better judgment.

Satine lowered her head and felt shame wash over her, “No, we certainly didn’t,” she murmured in return.

“Oh stars, we were, how old? That time you came to Coruscant?” Obi-Wan asked.

“We were twenty-three,” she clarified.

“And Korkie was..? I remember the holo-photos you showed me. He was a wee one.”

Satine nodded, “He was two.”

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes, “And how old was he when you went to Cadera?”

Sighing heavily at the inquisition she was getting from him on the other end of the holo-chat, Satine glared, “A year after your emissary trip, I went to Cadera. He was less than a month old. Had been abandoned near the Emergency Services entrance at the hospital.”

“The timing,” Obi-Wan started to protest.

Satine had already been over it in her mind, many times, as she had prepared herself for speculation from her inner circle in Sundari. But the truth was, Obi-Wan had left too soon for her to give birth to the child in Cadera twelve months later; and the abandoned baby, with the remains of his umbilical cord clinging to him, was too young to be passed off as a three month old.

“Yes, I know,” she nodded. “The timing has always been a thorn in my side. I know what people wanted to assume.”

“And that time, before Anakin, when you called me..?” Obi-Wan asked.

There had been a scare.

She nodded, “Yes, when we were twenty-five. I panicked. I was just late.”

He looked at her in disbelief and exclaimed, “How do you remember all of this? I can barely recall it all.”

Satine sighed heavily, “The scrutiny over my womb is very important to many people both here in Mandalore and apparently, also there in Coruscant. You have no idea how many times I’ve had to recall this information on a whim to disprove someone’s ridiculous attempt at scandalizing Korkie’s existence.” She threw up her hands in an exhausted shrug, and she looked frustrated.

Obi-Wan acknowledged the timeline and processed the math and had to resign himself to the fact that there was no possible way he was a father. There was relief in knowing that he would be able to go before the Council and confidently discount the rumors, but still, he said with a frown, “He’s not my son.”

Satine nodded and turned her gaze aside as she felt uncomfortable with the line of questioning and his anger. The fact that he was mad was understandable. His commitment to the Jedi Order was potentially in question. Rumors about his discretion were now leading people to wonder if he had a secret child somewhere in another sector. How many fellow Jedi who knew him, loved him, and respected him now looked at him differently? Would he ever undo the damage that Anakin Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano’s loose lips had caused?

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan,” Satine sighed.

His gaze snapped up in her direction and he raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’m afraid I can’t read you well today,” Satine admitted. “You seemed despondent just now, realizing..” Her voice trailed off and she shrugged. “I don’t know what outcome you would have preferred.”

Obi-Wan’s voice was sharp as he responded, “I want the truth, Satine.”

She looked at the glowing holo of him, and as the blue illuminated her face, Satine confirmed, “The truth is that he’s not yours. He’s biologically not even mine.”

On the other end of the call, Obi-Wan was silent with his arms crossed over his chest. She could see the veins in his neck peeking out from above his armor, and the subtle way the muscles of his jaw clenched.

“You swear it on your life, Satine Kryze?” his voice came, like a growl.

She faced him as she stood up and mirrored his body language.

“I swear it on my life, on his life, on my sister’s life, on yours, and on Mandalore.”

The conflicted lovers engaged in a staring contest as Obi-Wan tried to weigh the steel in her spine as she stood there, indignant and proud. Satine could see his anxiety was getting the best of him, as beads of sweat were forming near his hairline and he kept reaching up to brush his unruly hair from his face.

Satine was afraid for him as he had confided in her more than once that he feared being admonished by the Jedi Council. Of course, then he became part of the Council, but she was sure that old feelings of insecurity were getting the best of him. She walked around her office and resumed straightening up the classified documents and the data-chips that contained information on the funerals and final rites that would be happening for her guards.

A flicker of anger rose to the surface when Satine picked up the chip marked THRIJ LOC and she turned to take it out on Obi-Wan. Clearing her throat, she remarked, “You must consider me far more talented in subterfuge than you’ve previously let on. How would I have been able to keep a full-term pregnancy from you for all these years? And Korkie? Yours? What kind of man would you be - no, what kind of Jedi would you be with your Force gifts, to not realize the boy you’ve known about for years was yours?”

He was silent, watching her intently.

“You’ve watched him grow up in holo-photos! You’ve listened to me talk about him!” Satine demanded, looking both incensed and resigned all at the same time. She sighed, “How could I have possibly hidden him from you? And why?”

He took a deep breath and looked away, “I don’t know, Satine. You have always been so hesitant to let me meet him, and it’s always felt like you didn’t want us to become close.”

She shook her head, “Because, Obi-Wan, we are living separate lives. I didn’t want to confuse him when he was small, and we weren’t.. we aren’t..” her voice trailed off as she looked away. “You have no obligation to me.”

The weight of her words was heavy and he looked up at her and appeared apologetic.

Satine was despondent now, and under the weight of everything that was going on with the death of her guards, the aftermath of Almec’s betrayal, and now Obi-Wan’s frustration, she looked near her breaking point.

But her vulnerability made her uncomfortable, even in front of him, so Satine shrugged and tried to use humor to deflect by commenting, “And besides, there’s no way he could be yours. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him roll his eyes or look annoyed with me. Not even once.”

Obi-Wan was quick: “Maybe he’s just very good at hiding it from you.” He paused, and before Satine could respond, his words cut her like a knife, “Speaking of hiding things, are you sure he’s not yours?”

The sting was evident on her face as her eyebrows furrowed and she looked away for an instant. Her lips quivered and the muscles in her jaw tightened, but he knew it wasn’t sorrow. It was rage. For a moment, he believed he was about to experience the worst of Satine’s infamous beskar tongue, but to his surprise, it never came.

Instead, Satine looked back at him and said calmly, “You are treading on very dangerous ground, Obi-Wan. I am not your possession. If you want to accuse me of something, do it, and don’t speak in riddles.”

He nodded and then called her bluff, “Alright. I wonder if you conceived him with another man. There, I said it.”

She looked stunned for a second and her skin felt as though it was crawling as a heat rash began to spread upon her alabaster complexion. “I owe you nothing, but I have no reason to lie,” Satine hissed. “He is not mine. I love him as though he was, and in my culture, that is enough and therefore, he is mine. But no, I did not give birth to him.”

He was silent and Satine looked away.

Obi-Wan sighed, “I have to meet with the Council in a few moments.”

She was visibly upset but she asked calmly, “Call me later, would you?”

A hand rubbed at the back of his neck and he was noncommittal to her request. Instead, Obi-Wan’s blue eyes darted around and he griped, “I should go.”

Satine’s gut feelings were sending up warning signs about Obi-Wan. She hadn’t seen him like this in a long time, angry and quick to become incensed like this. Before meeting with the Jedi Council, she wanted to break the ice a bit, to give him a fighting chance of charming the figurative pants off all of them.

Satine sarcastically remarked, “Hey, jetii, now that the tooka’s out of the bag, I’m going to need you to come get Caepo next weekend for your visitation.”

Obi-Wan didn’t hesitate as he played along, “You’ll have to meet me half-way. I’m not coming all the way out there.”

He stayed stoic for a moment or two and then the corner of his mouth curled up into a very sly smile that he tried to hide.

Satine looked at him and stuck out her tongue at him, then reached for the device to end the call, hurrying as she said, “Tell Anakin and Ahsoka that the next time I see them in Coruscant, I will have a tongue lashing ready for both of them.”

“Will do.”

“Good luck.”

“I’ll need it. Thanks.”

“Love you.”

“Okay, bye.”

[direwolfrules]

3 Mandos and a Baby AU: The Aq Vetina Crisis Part 3

The second day of negotiations gets off to a brilliant start when someone in beskar’gam attempts to assassinate Senator Vald. 

Both the Jinata-Meerian delegation and the Mandalorian delegation go into lockdown. The Jinata reps are demanding the Mandos answer for this blatant attack by one of their own. The Mandalorians are trying to figure out if this was actually was one of their own. It’s chaos, and it’s up to the Republic team to make sense of that chaos.

Bail and Obi-Wan decide to take things on from the Jinata side, since Bail as a Core World Viceroy and Obi-Wan as the senior Jedi might make them feel this issue is being handled to their satisfaction. Padme, Anakin, and Ahsoka head off to the Mandalorians to figure things out from their end.

All Bail and Obi-Wan can determine from the security holos is the perpetrator was wearing Mandalorian armor painted in Death Watch colors, and that they’re obviously not practiced in using WESTARs or jetpacks. Obi-Wan pulls Bail to the side and shares his suspicion that the would-be assassin isn’t Mandalorian at all.

Meanwhile in the Mandalorian delegation’s apartments it’s a mess of data feeds, holocomms, and other nonsense as they try to figure out who this was. Anakin asks why they don’t just create a database of beskar’gam designs and is told Mandos change up their armor designs and paint so often it would wind up being fifty percent obsolete within a month.

Ursa points out how obviously uncomfortable with the WESTARs and the jetpack the dumbass is, and says they’re obviously not actual former Death Watch. Pre used to beat anyone who fell behind in either arms or jetpack training, like his father and brother before him did. Bo-Katan nods to confirm this and everyone else is just horrified because Pre keeps proving to be an even bigger asshole the more they hear about him.

Then Adonai’s ghost points something out to Korkie. The assassin is wearing outward facing thigh pieces as front facing pieces, and their chest plate is slightly loose. They’re not Mando’ade, just someone who got their hands on beskar trying to frame the Mandalorians.

Now the Mandos are pissed, because beskar is sacred. An aruetii wore their sacred manifestation of a Mandalorian’s soul in an attempt to frame them. And they did it badly.

They’re interrupted from their raging by a call from a very worried PR Minister Harik, who was enjoying some leave time in Coruscant’s Little Keldabe district. He warns them that someone leaked the holovid of the fake-mando assassin, and the Chancellor responded by locking down Little Keldabe. He’s only able to get a message out to them because the Corrie Guard feel they owe the Mandalorian government for all the brothers they’ve smuggled to freedom.

Things go from bad to worse when a couple of squads of assassins in Mandalorian armor attack both delegations at once. The Jinata-Meerian team manages to stay together and make it to the panic room but the Mandalorians get split up.

Anakin and Padme wind up with Duchess Satine, Senator Batin, Administrator Kadjn and Journeyman Halax, pinned down within a conference hall at the hotel. The fake mandos also brought a bunch of droids and Duchess Satine is working through some pent up aggression on those while the rest focus on the organic enemies.

Bo-Katan, Alrich, and Ursa are trying to get to the others and also keep little Din safe. Poor kid saw a droid and hasn’t stopped crying, which is alerting their enemies to their position. Further complicating things is their communications are jammed, meaning they only have guesses of where the others may be.

Ahsoka winds up with Korkie and the Cadet Squad in the tunnels running under the city. They all fight back to back and act all badass and stuff. Amis teaches her what Kandosii means after a particularly artful droid murder. As they fight their way through Ahsoka’s definitely hearing voices now, and they’re kinda helping her. They tell her when to duck left or right or when not to round a corner.

Eventually everyone manages to fight their way to the conference room and together they repel the attackers. They manage to take two of them alive and give them to Bo-Katan and Anakin to interrogate. When Padme asks why Lady Bo-Katan and not Lady Ursa or the Mand’alor himself, Korkie responds with “they made her kid cry” and honestly, valid (Padme only asked this because Bo-Katan’s the senior most military commander there and maybe she’d have other concerns like fortifying their position. Nah, Ursa’s got it covered).

The Jinata-Meerian delegation are watching this whole thing through the panic room security screens, which have audio for plot reasons. They watch as the helmets are removed from the two assassins still alive and Bo-Katan questions them. They don’t know anything, they’re just low level pirate grunts! They were given the armor by the higherups who got it from the guy who hired them. Honest!

Anyway, things resolve kinda peacefully after that. The whole experience has soured the Jinata government on keeping Aq Vetina, the place seems like too much work and too Mando now. And Mandos are crazy. They want payment in the shape of several million credits over a few years and priority on certain trade goods, but they’re still willing to sign. The Meerian government is satisfied with giving away Vanquo for a similar deal.

The Republic mediation team sends their report on what happened with a strong recommendation to end the lockdown in Little Keldabe. The Mandalorian government sends a strongly worded message as well.

Everything ends up good, the Mandalorians grow extra resentful of the Republic, and Ahsoka gets four new friends’ commcodes. Anakin makes his report to Palpatine, who sees this information as a special kind of useless and is also busy fuming about his failed attempt to get several annoyances killed at once.

[infinitelyelvish]

I found a Notes file from my descent into emotional turmoil as I watched the last four episodes of The Clone Wars. Enjoy

But why is the logo red. It's supposed to be yellow 😰

Ashoka's talking to Anakin for the first time since walking away 😭

Anakin's having a whole mental break down over seeing her again.

The graphics this season and episode are amazing. The best visuals for the worst to come.

They're all back together 😭😭

R2 is so excited to see her, poor little guy.

Not Bo Katan pulling the Satine card on Obi-Wan.

The whole 501st standing to attention for Ashoka with her colors and markings on their helmets. Is this the last time they're all not affected by the chips?!

HER LIGHTSABERS?! Is Anakin about to give her her lightsabers?!?!

Commander Rex. He deserved that being more than an on the flu decision.

He did give her her lightsabers back 😭

"I took care of them, they're good as new. Maybe a little better" 😭

"Anakin. Good luck." Is that the last time? I'm so nauseous with the impending last time he'll be Anakin and his first time he'll become Vader to her.

I cannot get over how good the animation is. This is so unfair. They need to go back and redo the entire series.

Rex and Ashoka having moments before battle together. I'm unwell. 

Badass landing!!! Let's go!

"Beat you." I swear if Rex dies or becomes a soulless drone😭

the lack of music during the opening sequence and credits is foreboding.

I wonder if the moment may be upon us.

I’m going to be sick

Dooku is dead. It’s coming.

Tell Anakin. Did he? Did he??? 

I keep having tears well up. I’m unprepared. 18 years and I’m unprepared.

They have Jesse. 

At this point is it a mercy of the clone dies before order 66? That way they still have their own faculties?

If anyone had asked me during season one if I thought I’d become attached to the clones the answer was a resounding no. But now I just want to gather them all to me and hide them like they’re all little ducklings who need protecting. 

Why did Maul want Obi-Wan /and/ Anakin?

What was the dream?!

Maul trying to team up with Ahsoka was extremely unexpected!

She’s going to help him?!

He is the key to everything. To destroy.

She knows. She knows. She knows.

I know Anakin. 😭

It’s looks so real it’s feels like live action

She’s become so strong.

We’re all going to die. You don’t know what they’re doing.

Why is it that the site are telling the truth and no one was ever listening to hear it?

2nd to last episode. This is it. I’m already crying.

I wish I was good at something other than war.

Mace Windu over here pissing me off. Ahsoka knows more!!! Get off your high horse and listen to her!!! 

I’ll tell him myself when I see him. 

Rex is a real one  for not sharing what Ahsoka didn’t with the council.

Saying deserved to see her planet be free.

What ever happened to Korkie??? Did he die and I don’t remember it happening?

Is this box actually force user proof?

Rex and Ahsoka traveling through space, one last time.

She’s saluting him.

Is that the last time? Did I just lose Rex as I’ve known him?

It’s happening. 

He’s trying to fight it

He’s gone. He’s sending them to find her.

The droids are so upset, their people aren’t acting right.

Fives!!! She’s looking up what Fives found, FINALLY!!! 

Stupid Kaminoans. Rex told Padme 🥲

Is it now that the troopers have lost their ability to aim?

Tazing Rex, gotta love droids.

Is she going to be able to save him? Can she save him after the order has been given?

It’s not there 😭

“I am one with the force and the force is with me.”

They found jt!!!

He’s back!

Oh my god he’s back.

He’s the only one. How many can she save? Can she save more?

Last episode.

Not the monk singing 

Victory and death.

What victory 😭

They’re only stunning. I love my 501st commanders.

The clones are starting to appear in their white uniforms.

Why is Maul destroying the hyper drive? Now they’re just sitting ducks.

If they weren’t trying to kill us I’d be proud. 

What moon are they by? 

There’s no way. There’s no way they’re getting to a shuttle.

There are too many. Besides I don’t want to hurt them.

Loyal Ahsoka.

Rex is crying!!! I can’t. Please. I can’t. 

I love her so much.

They may be willing to die,  but I’m not willing to kill them.

I love these droids so much.

Mail was an interesting villain but if he’s going to steal this shuttle without Ahsoka and Rex on it then I hope he gets forced choked out.

That was a cool move with the force and double lightsabers.

Not the droids popcorning the clones.the droids!!!!

They’re all gone. The entire 501st. 

It’s just Rex now.

They buried them all of them. Their helmets 😭😭😭

She left her lightsaber. I guess they’re not the same since Anakin was the one to return them.

Who are these droids? Why are they in their Hoth gear? 

Vader.

He found the wreck.

When is this?

He found her lightsaber. Oh my god he knows she’s alive.

Does she know Obi-wan and yoga are still alive??? Does she know that Padme died? Does she know about the twins? I have questions!

[itstimeforstarwars]

"i feel like for a bit there i had an au percolating about obi wan time traveling and becoming korkie's double in order to save satine" 👀 oh? (if you want to talk about it)

See okay I really haven't thought this one out a whole lot but there's so many fun things that could happen with it!

-Obi-Wan is 18. One day he wakes up and the Republic is at war, and the Jedi are leading it. He goes to the Jedi for help, because he has no idea what's going on, and they don't believe he is who he says he is. They already have an Obi-Wan Kenobi, you see, and this has to be some sort of Sith trick.

-Obi-Wan gets frustrated and seeks help from another friend--Satine. She doesn't know how to send him back to his own time, how to make the Jedi believe him (but she believes him, she always has), or how to stop this war that they both agree the Jedi shouldn't be leading, but she does know how to offer a lost child shelter. And Korkie needs help learning how to deal with the intricacies of the Senate, and Satine's good friend is Padmé, and Padmé uses doubles as bodyguards, and hey, do you mind keeping an eye out...

-Obi-Wan does keep an eye out. And then when some assholish Zabrak comes trying to usurp Satine, he's quite unprepared for Korkies unassuming bodyguard to fight him off long enough for General Kenobi to rescue everyone.

-Obi-Wan has no idea how close Satine came to dying that day.

Alternatively:

-Ben Kenobi is an old man, until very suddenly, he isn't.

-After dying on the Death Star, he wakes up on Mandalore. He looks very young, though he's not entirely sure how young. His best guess is somewhere between 16 and 23. He has a padawan braid. He cuts it off.

-It's the middle of the Clone Wars. He thinks it's...close...to the time Satine died. He's not entirely certain. The war has all sort of blurred together in his memories, into a mess of pain and loss and betrayal and Anakin--

-Anyway. Satine dies soon, and Ahsoka leaves the Order. Ben can stop that. He remembers this part. He can make it happen differently.

-He shows up on Satine's doorstep, looking like a lost little Jedi, with sweet manners and a very shell-shocked demeanor, and Satine knows beyond a doubt that this is Obi-Wan Kenobi's child. This is Obi-Wan's child, and he has run away from the war, and he has deliberately sought asylum from a neutral planet. And she says, mine now.

-He's not quite Korkie's age, but they do look very similar. If pressed, they could pass as siblings. Even twins, if no one looked too carefully.

-Korkie is 110% on board to hide a Jedi. It is possible that Korkie has hidden several other Jedi refugees before. Ben's not entirely certain; Ben also will not ask. If there are Jedi taking refuge on Mandalore, that only makes it more likely that they will survive the inevitable betrayal by the clone troopers.

-Death Watch is getting bolder, and Satine fears for Korkie's safety. She remembers another young Jedi protector, protecting another New Mandalorian noble. She should not ask this shell-shocked child to protect her nephew. She does anyway.

-Korkie teaches Ben everything he does not know about being a Mandalorian. Ben teaches Korkie everything he does not know about politics and lying by telling the truth. He also teaches Korkie to use a lightsaber. Just in case.

-And when Maul tries to take over, he finds himself taken by surprise by two unassuming young men who take great offense to an attempt against their aunt's life.

-And when Ahsoka leaves the Order, Satine sees another lost child of Obi-Wan's, and she again says mine now.

-Maul isn't dead. He's pissed off and in a dungeon somewhere but he isn't dead. He's spinning stories to Ahsoka about how Anakin is the next Sith apprentice, about how the mysterious Sith Master only took Dooku until Anakin could fully come into his power, about how the Sith Master had betrayed Maul, and of course Ahsoka knows it's all banthashit--

-Except Ben the bodyguard agrees with him, and isn't that interesting--

-Do you think the Jedi would let me come back to them if I kill the head of state even if he's secretly a sith lord--

Anyway, regardless of whether Ben travels forwards or backwards, this story would include:

-remarks about how Ben and Korkie look remarkably similar (and no clear conclusion on whether there's a reason for that, because I prefer my Korkies of dubious parentage and Force sensitivity)

-Korkie gets to use a lightsaber

-General Kenobi shows up and finds an identical Force presence and has a "Why are you me? I'm me?" kind of moment.

-Satine introduces Ben to Padmé who introduces him to Sabé who gives him a lot of tips about being a double once she realizes what's going on. They're great friends, even though Ben seems...odd, at times.

-Ben has no idea about the chips.

:)

But yeah I don't really have a lot for this story these are just the half-baked percolations. It's fun to think about when I have no idea what I'm doing with paw and galidraan.

[val-aquenta]

An obvious one I know, but what are your thoughts on Obi-Wan?? (Just for the record)

Thank you for enabling me xD I really do love Obi-Wan (perhaps a bit too much...)

How I feel about this character:

He’s the best. My favourite character (sorry Mace and Luminara...) My favourite Jedi. My favourite. I love how calm and collected he is when dealing with issues. I love the fact that he maintains a level head during difficult situations, and is often able to control himself in very emotional situations. (looking at you Anakin.) And even when he does lose control (meeting Maul once more) he is able to recognise it and move past it, something that takes extreme strength. I really love this control as opposed to playing loose all the time with your emotions like Anakin does. He is an emotionally intelligent person despite what some people think, as well as being quite intelligent in general, and he’s just a really sweet person. Obi-Wan is the Force’s personal punching bag, yet even two decades into a lonely exile after his entire family is destroyed by his brother he still is a kind, sweet person, who wants to help and do good. Obi-Wan goes through so much in his life, yet he does not falter in his beliefs and in the Light, and I commend him for that. That kind of dedication is really difficult to have over such a long time, and it is beautiful to see him standing by his beliefs for his life. Aayla Secura once said that “It takes courage to stick to one’s beliefs.” and I think Obi-Wan kind of embodies this idea. 

Okay now that I’m done waxing poetic about him, he’s also such a talented guy. He’s a marksman, negotiator, Master of Soresu, epic actor, and more. Like, he’s the jack of all trades in the galaxy. and he’s so cool while doing this. He looks like your cool uncle. And I kind of love that he is all this, and he’s not related to some prophecy or some great family. That he is simply great. He’s just such a good person, who wants to help as best he can whenever he can, and it’s so nice to see someone simply be nice. Seeing all these mOraLlY gREy characters around because they’re all the rage is honestly bleh. Seeing someone rooted in their beliefs and rooted in trying to help people and following the Light for the sake of following the slight is something which raises him above these morally grey characters (I’m talking about the ones who are essentially really shitty people but are somehow part of the light. Or they constantly flip between sides or are neutral or whatever.) I’m a big Obi-Wan apologist if you couldn’t tell lol

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

I don’t... ship anyone with him? I mean, I’m just not into shipping generally. I guess I could see Luminara or Cody with him, but I’m not wholly invested in ships. I like him as a characer without romance, so I don’t tend to ship. Perhaps this is me projecting? Who knows? Not me.

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

Mace and Obi-Wan have such an interesting and somewhat explored dynamic. I just want more of these two Jedi dads fighting droid butt and looking extremely cool while doing so. In all seriousness, I think the blend of their characters as both being really calm and collected individuals while having strong beliefs is cool. I headcanon Mace kind of became Obi-Wan’s friend/mentor after Qui-Gon died, so they have this dynamic which is not exactly teacher-student as Obi-Wan and Anakin, but is more just Obi-Wan going to Mace for advice and stuff. I mean, I’d think that Masters have a large part in newly knighted people, and without Qui-Gon there, Obi-Wan would need him. But, in tcw and the movies, there is a deep respect on both sides. for the other as well as admiration I think. Mace is a little bit more down to Earth whereas Obi-Wan is more optimistic (cautiously of course) so they do clash, but they can often agree on courses of action. I think they both admire the other’s cqualities like this. Mace finds Obi-Wan’s hope/optimism as an inspiration to not always assume the worst and sometimes be able to think of the best case scenario. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, who has tried to be optimistic often has found himself burned byt eh consequences, so he admires Mace’s realistic approach. Anyways, when Obi-Wan becomes a council member, they do disagree more often, but they can always find common ground between each other in some ways. 

Or really, just Obi-Wan and any Jedi idc anymore which one it is ok. Just more Jedi stuff please :’) Luminara, Depa, Shaak Ti, Kit, Plo, Aayla, heck just give us Jedi content damnit. 

My unpopular opinion about this character:

uhh... I don’t like Obitine, and I honestly don’t think it would have worked out (especially in the Clone Wars era.) Who knows, perhaps when Obi-Wan was younger, it might have worked out, but I don’t think it would have when he was older. Also, I commend him for letting her go, and being able to realise that he would not have been able to both be a Jedi and be in a relationship with her. (hmm looking at you Anakin...) I think it takes great strength to know that what you want is not the best for you always, and it takes a lot of strength to let go of what you want. 

To be fair, I don’t hate it. I’m not invested in shipping generally as I mentioned above, so a lot of this is just me. Lol also Korkie is not Obi-Wan’s kid. If they make him that, I will kill someone. :)

One think I wish would happen/had happened with this character in canon:

Give Obi-Wan his Bantha Herd. That is all. 

Ok, jokes aside, I wish there could have been more episodes/content of him and other Jedi other than Anakin or even Ahsoka. I’m more lenient with Ahsoka because we don’t actually see much interaction between just them without Anakin. I want him and Yoda to have space tea in Yoda’s swamp quarters. I want to see him racing around in speeders with Luminara.( @jedimasterbailey ) Give me him and Mace going over some kind of statement or something.  I want to see him and his Jedi family interacting. I know that they do, Filoni, just show it to us please. :D

[zelenacat]

When We Were Young- An Obitine Story- Chapter 25

Master Secura was not pleased to hear about the wedding.

“It hasn’t been announced yet,” Satine stated, “and I have to talk it over with my advisors.”

“But you accepted.” Ahsoka pointed out.

“I had to, he,” Satine paused, “knows family secrets.”

Obi-Wan lowered his head.

“You have a child,” Aayla Secura realized, “and Count Dooku knows.”

The Duchess turned to Obi-Wan and placed a hand on his leg, he took it off, instead choosing to hold her hand on the table.

“We can help you protect them.”

“The Council won’t be pleased however,” Satine pointed out, “that’s why they were a secret.”

“They?”

“The Duke of Sundari,” Obi-Wan counted on his fingers, “Padawan Tyra, Tristan Wren, Mara Supreis, and the two new foundlings Jinn and Lyra.”

Master Secura’s eyes went wide, “That is many transgressions.”

“Twins three times.” Satine pointed out.

“That doesn’t matter,” Aayla sighed, “come, Master Kenobi, we must update the Council. Ahsoka, keep looking.”

The Padawan nodded and continued, Satine scanned the room.

“I can’t believe you’re actually engaged to him.” Ahsoka muttered, searching corners.

“Not officially,” the Duchess defended, opening drawers, “my advisors don’t know.”

“But-”

“We decided we were going to continue the courtship.” Satine confessed.

“Ew.”

When they found nothing, Satine returned to her personal parlor where her children were waiting.

“You’re all so quiet.” Satine observed.

“Marrying Count Dooku?” Mara questioned.

“Not officially,” Ahsoka jumped in, “your mother said they agreed to an extended courtship.”

“That’s still gross.” Tyra admitted.

“And that kiss?” Korkie asked, frowning.

“I know,” Tristan nodded, “and I literally carried his laundry for him.”

Ahsoka shivered.

“I’m sorry you had to find out like that, children,” Satine sighed, sinking into a chair, “but it really happened too quickly.”

“I’m sorry, Lady Mother,” Mara smiled sadly, “I know you don’t want to marry him.”

“I don’t.” the Duchess agreed.

The room grew silent.

“Come children,” Satine stood, “it’s bedtime.”

Tyra shoved Ahsoka’s shoulder, “That includes you too.”

In the hallway, the group ran into the Jedi Masters. Satine made note of Obi-Wan’s stiffness, he was tired and embarrassed.

“We leave in the morning, Ahsoka,” Master Secura announced, “Master Kenobi and Padawan Tyra will be returning to Coruscant.”

Tyra was clearly disappointed, Obi-Wan put a hand to his head.

“Get rest, children,” Satine turned to her children, “Especially you, Ahsoka, you have a long day ahead of you.”

Mara kissed her mother’s cheek, “Goodnight, Lady Mother.”

Tyra did the same and looped her arm through Mara’s.

“Goodnight, Master Jedis.”

The girls turned.

“Tyra?” Obi-Wan spoke up.

Tyra turned, swinging Mara around as well. A mutual understanding seemed to pass between the two.

“Goodnight, Father.”

“Goodnight, Father.”

Tristan kissed the Duchess’ cheek, then gave a bow to Master Secura, winking at his father as he came up.

“Go on now,” Obi-Wan gestured, “listen to your mother.”

Ahsoka told her Momdalore to sleep well, then moved towards Master Secura.

“Peaceful sleep be upon you, Duchess.” the Jedi stated.

Satine smiled tensely, she knew the Jedi Council would not be pleased.

“Dad,” Korkie stepped forward and held out his hand, “I’m glad you’re a part of our family.”

Obi-Wan’s face melted and he placed his hands on Korkie’s shoulders.

“May I hug you?”

“Of course, Father.”

Satine nearly cried at the sight.

“Sleep well, son of mine,” Obi-Wan ruffled Korkie’s hair, “now go, I must speak with your mother.”

Korkie kissed Satine’s cheek before leaving his parents. Then it was just Satine and Obi-Wan in the hallway.

“I know you’re ashamed,” the Duchess stepped forward, “your fellow council members must not be pleased.”

Obi-Wan sighed.

“Ben,” Satine placed a hand on her Jedi’s cheek, “you can stay with me.”

“I-”

“It’s not a crime, Ben,” Satine continued with a swallow, “Jedi need love too.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan sighed, “I suppose that’s true.”

Satine took her Jedi’s hands and led him to her room.

“This is Jaym and Gorg,” the Duchess gestured, “they know.”

Obi-Wan shook both their hands, “Thank you for keeping my Satine safe.”

“Of course, Master Jedi.” Jaym responded.

“The Duchess is a gift to us all.” Gorg agreed.

Obi-Wan fixed Satine with a warm gaze, “Yes, she is.”

The Duchess pulled Obi-Wan inside and shut the door.

“Will you help me with this, Ben?” Satine asked, trying to unbutton her dress.

The Jedi clicked his tongue when he saw the girdle Satine was wearing.

“This thing is monstrous.” he frowned.

The Duchess huffed, “Try wearing it.”

Satine sighed when the pressure released from her stomach, Obi-Wan rested a hand on the large shell.

“I still can’t believe we have two more.”

“It was hard,” Satine agreed, turning to face him, “but now everything is alright.”

“Why's that?”

The Duchess grinned, “You’re here.”

Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around Satine, who yawned and placed her head on his shoulder.

“Let’s get you some sleep.” Obi-Wan decided, pulling his Duchess towards the mattress.

Satine sat down while her Jedi removed her shoes and socks.

“My shining Jedi Knight.” she muttered.

Obi-Wan smiled sadly, ”Your feet are still swollen.”

“Hera says that will end soon.”

“Hera?”

“The nurse,” Satine smiled, “you’ll meet her tomorrow.”

“I’d like that.”

The Duchess swung her legs over and pulled up the covers.

“Your shift?” Obi-Wan asked.

“No,” Satine yawned, “tired.”

After a few seconds of rusting fabric, Obi-Wan joined Satine.

“This is all I ever wanted,” he mused, wrapping an arm around her.

“This is more than my happiest dreams.” Satine smiled, closing her eyes.

The morning was not as sweet. Obi-Wan was already up and meditating, so there was no morning cuddle time.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan paused, opening his eyes, “I’ll come back if you want.”

“Can all of you read thoughts?” Satine sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

“No, why?”

“Tyra and the Count can.”

Satine could feel Obi-Wan’s displeasure.

“Yes, he read my mind, if it wasn’t for Tyra, I would’ve kicked him out of the palace.”

Rolling over, Satine faced her Jedi.

“I don’t like you having to pretend that you’re marrying.”

Satine sighed, “He knows about the kids, and he read my mind when I was thinking of you.”

Obi-Wan frowned, “Mean.”

Satine sat up, then flinched.

“What?”

The Duchess actually smiled, “Give me a minute.”

Obi-Wan didn’t question her that much when she exited the fresher, only raising an eyebrow.

“Have you ever given birth, Ben?”

“Right, sorry.”

Satine laughed.

A knock bounced off the door, “Satine?”

“Yes, Khaami?”

“I’m here to help you dress.” Khaami announced.

“Well, come in.”

Khaami entered, eyes searching for Obi-Wan. When she saw him, she raised an eyebrow at her Duchess.

“No, Khaami,” Satine shook her head, “you won’t be attending any more births.”

The Jedi snorted. The lady smiled, relieved, and marched over to Satine’s closet. 

“I guess I should go.” Obi-Wan pouted.

Satine kissed her Jedi, “Poor Ben, tell our friends I say hello.”

“I will.”

After a moment, the Duchess added, “And make sure Tyra Satine doesn’t get up to any obscene antics.” 

Mirth glowed in Obi-Wan’s eyes, “That’ll be a challenge.”

Satine watched as her knight in shining armor left, Khaami had to call her name three times to get her attention.

“Yes?”

“Black.”

“Black? I hate black!”

Khaami sighed, “We want to give the council the impression that you’re sad about this engagement.”

Satine bid goodbye to the Jedi before heading into the Ruling Council Chamber, Aayla had winked at her, they’d shared a moment.

“Duchess Satine?”

She frowned, reality set back in.

Once everyone was gathered, Satine took a breath, “The Count and I have agreed we will marry eventually.” 

Silence, then outrage.

“Your Grace-”

“Duchess!”

“Please, Your Grace, reconsider-”

Satine raised her hand, the room grew quiet.

“It will be a long courtship,” the Duchess continued, “but there is more you should be aware of.”

If the Ruling Council had been dumbfounded before Satine explained the ties to the Sith the Ancient Mandalorians had, and their current plan with the Jedi, they were certainly shocked now.

“Your Grace,” Countess Bralor sighed, “This is quite the mess.”

“And are you sure your sister will assist in the capture of the Count?” asked Governor Eldar.

“Death Watch does not like the Count,” Satine assured, “and the Jedi will gladly take him.”

In the next week, Satine had met with the Jedi Council (who sometimes struggled to address her properly), made contact with Count Dooku for a second courtship visit, and informed Bo-Katan of their new situation. She was exhausted.

Count Dooku returned a month later, and after much consolation from Padme, Satine felt brave enough to face him again. The Count’s arrival was less grand, the majority of the court couldn’t make it for this visit, yet he still chose to drive through the airways of Sundari. 

“My popularity here is increasing,” he boasted to Satine on their walk, “it will be good when we announce the wedding.”

“I worry about the extremists though.” Satine admitted, setting a ploy.

“What, Death Watch?”

The Duchess nodded.

“I have friends who will deal with that.”

This was news to Satine, but she tried not to show it.

“More criminals I presume?” she asked.

The Count smirked, “Eager to know, are you?”

“They do want me dead.” Satine offered.

Dooku shook his head, “They won’t kill you.” 

The Duchess frowned, “How do you know?”

The Count placed Satine’s hand on his arm, “Because you’re under my protection.”

“That guarantees nothing.” the Duchess countered, slightly shocked.

Dooku raised an eyebrow, “We’re on our way to announce our engagement.”

“Ah, right,” Satine nodded, “they happen not to like you either.”

“I may have a spy in Death Watch.”

Despite herself, Satine grinned, “That’s useful information.”

The Duchess was still smiling when she and the Count stepped out onto the stage for their press conference. The whispers hushed as Dooku helped Satine into her seat. Soon after Satine’s ladies situated themselves behind her, and the Prime Minister took to the podium.

“The palace is happy to announce today, that the Duchess is engaged to Count Dooku, Head of the Seperatist Alliance and Speaker of the Most High Seperatist Senate.”

Silence. Then a burst of questions all at once.

“Your Grace-”

“Duchess-”

“Your Excellency-”

“Count Dooku-”

Satine raised her hand, but it still took a few seconds for the press to quiet down.

“The Count and I have made our decision with what is best for both our systems. If you have any questions, please ask them politely.”

Some of the questions were general, how they thought this would help both systems, did they have any plans for initiatives, would Mandalore officially join the war?

“Not directly or immediately,” Satine answered before Dooku could, “our peaceful way of life will require some integration of aggression before we are ready for war.”

The rest of the questions were all about wedding plans at Satine’s dress. 

“I will have to consult with my seamstresses,” Satine announced after much prodding, “but nothing shall be announced until the day of the ceremony.”

“When will the ceremony be?” a journalist shouted.

“There is still much planning that must be done,” Count Dooku jumped in, “but of course we shall be respectful of traditional holidays.”

Satine turned to the Count, she hadn’t been aware that he knew of Queen Mara’s birthday celebration coming up. Dooku gave her a small smile. A camera flashed.

“Thank you,” the Prime Minister announced, Satine blinked, “the palace press secretary will answer any other questions.”

The Count helped Satine up and led her from the room, her ladies behind her.

“We did well.”

“We did.” Satine agreed.

“I think I should take some time to tour Sundari and meet the local leaders.” Dooku suggested.

“That sounds beneficial,” the Duchess agreed, “I’ll speak with my advisors about that.”

At dinner that evening, Dooku sat on Satine’s left, Korkie on her right. They glanced att each other the entire night, but neither spoke to the other directly. It was exhausting just being around them. It had been decided that the Count would take a tour of Sundari in the morning, so he excused himself early.

“Ugh,” Korkie sighed when Dooku left the room, “I thought he’d never leave.”

“Korkie-”

“Walk with me, Lady Mother,” Korkie whispered, “after dinner, there’s news.”

So they did, sitting in the garden, the Duke showed something to Satine that made her shriek.

“What? How?”

“Lady Mother,” Korkie put a hand on Satine’s shoulder, “don't worry.”

“Fire, Korkyrach,” Satine shook, eyes wide, “you can make fire with your hands.”

“It’s called force fire,” Korkie explained, “Tyra and Mara have been helping me.”

Satine began to weep.

“It’s alright, Lady Mother,” the Duke hugged his mother, “it only happens sometimes, and I’m learning to control it.”

“Be careful around the Count,” Satine wiped her eyes on her son’s shoulder, “I worry so much for you all.”

“It’s alright,” Korkie stated, “Tyra’s with Father on Coruscant.”

“And Tristan?”

“He called me after the announcement,” Korkie admitted, “he was pissed, but I talked him down, he’s alright otherwise.”

“Mara?”

“Left for a Seperatist world a few days ago,” the Duke informed his mother, “they’re gathering information.”

Satine sighed.

“Let’s get you upstairs, Lady Mother.” Korkie decided.

“Yes.” the Duchess agreed.

Satine was about to crawl into bed when her comm went off. She grabbed it, turned down the volume, and hid under the covers before answering.

“Hi, Ben.”

“This scares me, Satine.” Obi-Wan admitted.

“Ben-”

“And the way you looked at him,” the Jedi spat, “what was that?

“What was what?” Satine asked.

Obi-Wan sent her a photo from the press conference.

“Ben-”

“You look like you care about him, Satine.”

The Duchess frowned, “No, I don’t.”

“But that's what it looks like,”the Jedi stressed.

“Obi-Wan,” Satine said sternly, “don’t get any premonitions in your head that I love someone else, I love you.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth hung open for a second, then he smiled.

“Ben, it’s been what,” the Duchess counted, “about two months since our last children were born?”

“They’re doing great, Satine,” Obi-Wan grinned, “they smiled at me today.”

“Tell me about it,” tears filled the Duchess’ eyes, “I’ve missed all my children’s first smiles.”

“They were beautiful,” the Jedi’s eyes fogged, “Jinn reached up at me and Lyra giggled.”

Satine let a little sob escape her.

“Darling-”

“I miss you,” Satine confessed, “and I miss them.”

“I know.” Obi-Wan sighed.

Satine went to bed late that night and woke up just before lunch, long after the Count had embarked on this tour.

“Why’d you let me sleep?” Satine mumbled.

“Because,” Khaami pulled up her lady, “news from the Jedi has come.”

“And Dooku can’t well know we’re in league with his enemies.” Parna added.

Satine sighed and rubbed her eyes.

“You can do this, Duchess.” Khaami assured.

After she was dressed, in her usual purple and navy ensemble, Satine went o a private conference room with her Prime Minister, who was just turning on the communication device. Soon, a collection of blue figures appeared before Satine.

“Duchess,” Master Windu frowned, clearly upset to see her, “how wonderful to see you.”

Satine smiled, “Thank you, Master Jedi, I hear there is news?”

“News, yes,” Master Yoda began, “bad news, it is.”

Satine’s eyebrows rose.

“There is a Sith Temple on Concordia,” Master Shaak Ti stated, “hidden below ground, our sources say that the Death Watch are aware of this as well.”

“The Count informed me that he has a spy in Death Watch.” Satine announced.

“Told you this, did he?” asked Master Yoda.

“Yes.”

“And you believe him?” questioned Master Ti.

Satine opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again.

“I made a joke that I would be dead before the wedding at Death Watch’s hands, he said I didn’t worry because of his spy.”

Master Yoda nodded, “Interesting, that is.” 

“How is your sister?” Master Mundi asked.

“Angry, but her wife feeds that fire.”

“Ah yes,” Master Windu frowned, “Asajj Ventress.”

Satine glanced quickly at Obi-Wan, his face was pensive.

“I suggest, Your Grace,” Master Mundi began, “that you destroy the Sith Temple on Concordia before the Count visits it.”

Satine nodded, “Thank you, Master Jedi.”

“A plan, you have?” Master Yoda smiled.

“Yes.”

“Wish you the best of luck, Duchess.” said Master Windu, frowning a slight smile.

“Thank you.”

When the comm ended, Prime Minister Djarin gave the Duchess the side eye.

“Your plan?”

“Recent developments have proved beneficial,” Satine grinned, “and I have some friends.”

  Satine met Tristan and Korkie for lunch that day, and as she sipped her tea and listened to her sons’ accomplishments, the plan took shape.

“Lady Mother,” Tristan sighed, “you have that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“You’re planning something,” Korkie agreed, sitting back, “and it involves us.”

Satine leaned forward.

“Tristan, what new skill have you learned?”

Her second son understood immediately, “Telekinesis, have you not noticed the floating wine bottles?”

Satine frowned, Tristan and Korkie burst out laughing.

The Duchess sighed, “Such immature pranks prove you aren’t ready for this mission.”

“A mission?” Korkie’s eyes lit up.

Satine rested her chin on her hands, “There’s an underground Sith Temple on Concordia, it needs to be destroyed.”

“Ooh.”

“Sweet.”

“I want you boys, Mara, and her Master to do the destroying.”

Tristan grinned.

“But how do we get around the Count?” Korkie asked.

“Secrecy.” Satine answered.

The boys then went back to school, knowing they’d be leaving on the weekend, and Satine returned to the palace, where the Count was waiting.

“How was lunch with your sons?” he whispered.

The Duchess hesitated.

“Teenage boys perplex me.”

Dooku actually laughed, “Perhaps a step-father is a beneficial addition to the family, then?”

Satine gave the Count a side eye, “You have quite the high opinion of yourself.”

“I most certainly do.”

“So tell me,” Satine began walking towards the gardens, “how did the public perceive you?”

“Well for the most part,” Dooku explained, “lots of stares and whispers.”

“May I suggest charity efforts?” the Duchess grinned.

“Charity,” the Count asked, “like helping the poor?”

“Yes, Dooku,” Satine grinned, “like helping the poor.”

A moment of silence leaked in and the Duchess turned to face her fiance.

“Call me Kal.”

“What?”

“My name is Kal,” the Count repeated, “as we’re engaged you should know my name.”

The Duchess repeated the name, it sounded strange in her mouth.

“Surprised, Satine?”

The Duchess winced, “Don’t call me that.”

“How about Tina, then?”

Satine frowned, “Even more revolting.”

“Then what should I call you?” the Count asked.

“Your Grace.” Satine decided firmly.

The Count bowed.

“If you would please excuse me, Your Grace, I must speak with my Master.”

The Duchess went cold and she hated how her voice quivered.

“You’re excused.”

Dooku turned and began to walk away.

“Kal?”

The Count froze, but he didn’t turn back to Satine.

“Who is your Master?”

The Duchess could hear the Count’s smile in his reply.

“You will never need to know that.”

Satine waited until Count Dooku was out of earshot, then ran to her room, bumping into Jaym and Parna on the way,

“Spy on the Count,” Satine ordered, “he’s talking to his Master.”

“Call Padme,” she whispered into her comm, “oh, please pick up.”

“Satine, I-”

“Did you know Dooku’s first name was Kal?”

A moment of silence, then the Senator excused herself from the room.

“What?”

“He told me to call him by his name, and I said that he couldn’t call me by mine.”

“Satine, are you okay?”

“No,” the Duchess whined, “we might actually have to marry!”

Padme sighed.

“What?”

“You should’ve been prepared for this.”

“I’m also sending my children to destroy an underground Sith Temple on Concordia that’s over a millenia old.”

“Satine,” Padme frowned, “you need to rest.”

“Dooku is calling his Master right now,” Satine pouted, “from my palace!”

The Senator’s jaw dropped.

Satine lowered her voice, “Of course, I have spies in action, Padme.”

“Dear God,” the Senator mumbled, “when did our lives get like this?”

“Master Windu did not seem pleased to know that Ben and I have children.” Satine confessed.

Padme snorted, “When he found out Anakin and I were married he just left the room.”

Satine giggled.

“Good luck with everything, call me if you need help.”

“I will, Padme, thank you.”

[tessiete]

This was for the prompt from @treescape who asked what would happen if Obi-Wan had taken Korkie back with him from Mandalore after Satine's death. I said, "Well, at the very least it would force him and Anakin to talk to each other, and maybe stop the whole Fall of the Republic from happening."

And she said, "They won't talk."

And I said, "I'LL SHOW YOU!"

But then, she was right.

I tried. THE PUNISHMENT OF SILENCE

She throws him on a ship, and says “This one’s yours,” and they’re already away by the time he comprehends she meant the pilot on board with him. 

He’s pale to the point of imagination, and trembling - a reflection of how Obi-Wan imagines he himself must look, bloodless and haunted. His eyes seem hollowed out from the shadows between stars, his hair lank and lifeless, his mouth a jagged streak of blood cut straight across his face as though his jaw has been neatly bisected, his tongue cut out, and silence fills the space between them.

But he steps away from the controls at Obi-Wan’s approach.

He says nothing to the boy as he staggers to the pilot’s seat, and straps himself in. He hears the sounds of violent retching being pulled, and pulled, and then replaced with shattered breathing, and he spares him a glance to shout, “Do you know how to man the cannons on this ship?”

The boy lifts his head. His hair has tumbled out of its militant lines to hang over his eyes like some wild thing hunted. 

“The cannons,” Obi-Wan repeats. “Can you use them?”

The boy nods.

“Then do so,” Obi-Wan says.

He turns his attention back to the front. They are approaching the edge of the atmosphere, but are still trailing the most dedicated of their enemy’s pilots behind them. He feints left, then swings back to the right, trying to shake their aim as his companion slides into the gunner’s seat, and places his hands on the controls.

A strange look falls over his face then - something cool, and placid - and Obi-Wan too feels himself steady. He ceases to think of the sweat trickling down his brow, or the ache between his shoulders, or the pounding of his heart. Instead, he is flying. They are buoyed by the wind, then freed of atmospheric friction, and at last, with a contemptuous spit of the cannons, loosed from their pursuers and the strangling grip of Mandalore.

Without thought, Obi-Wan primes the hyperdrive, sets a course for Coruscant, and presses them into the stars. The ship resists for a moment, unwilling to let go of the planet, but soon gives in, and they are thrown into the cosmic whirlpool of hyperspace where time and place fall silent. 

And Obi-Wan can think.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“It’s Korkie. I’m Korkie,” the boy gasps, his hands falling away from the console and his calm with it. “Kiorkicek Kryze. My mother - my aunt…”

He shakes his head, his mouth still open but his voice has broken into absence.

“Your mother?” Obi-Wan says. “Bo-Katan? She wanted you off the planet -”

But Korkie shakes his head harder. He swallows. He swallows again, still gaping. 

“My mother - she died. I saw - I tried to save her. I tried to help - she said you’d help her.”

He feels a creeping numbness spreading from his joints, like muscles stiffening in the wake of a blaster’s stun.

“Satine,” he says, knowing and yet unsure. “Satine is your mother.”

“Yes,” Korkie says. “We were going to leave together. She said - we’d leave together when you came.”

“Your father -?”

“No.” It falls from him like a single tear, stifled before the onslaught of grief.

This one’s yours, she’d said.

“No,” whispers Obi-Wan in kind.

And then Korkie is crying, desperate, greedy torrents of grief that stutter out between his teeth like laughter. He presses a hand to his mouth, and wraps an arm about his middle to barricade the doors, but they are flung open, and the vacuum of his heart is filled by loud, rushing sobs. 

Obi-Wan barely hears him, caught instead listening to the voices of the past. Bo-Katan’s. Satine’s. Qui-Gon’s. He unbuckles the straps from his waist, and his shoulders, and slips from his seat to stand. 

“I...I need to change,” he says. “You should get some rest. We’ll hit planetfall in about six hours.”

This ship is unfamiliar, but equally unimaginative in its design, and so he stumbles to the fresher without effort. The room is warm, but there is no comfort in sonics the way there is in a shower. There is no rhythm of water beating out its rage upon your skin, at first soothing, then numb, then painful in its insistence. There is no cleansing fall of rain, no slick of wet across your skin, no satisfying whirlpool of dirt and grit spinning out of sight down the drain. Instead, the detritus of battle falls from your body, settling like the dust of memory upon the floor.

He steps out of the fresher, and feels no different.

The cockpit is abandoned when he returns, and the galley too, and he thinks perhaps, somehow, he is alone again in space.

He presses his hand against the door to the officer’s quarters, and it slides open with a gust of wind. Inside, curled atop the coarse coverlet of an unforgiving bunk, Korkie Kryze lies asleep. His hands are tucked beneath his arms, and his knees drawn up as if he’s cold, but he does not shiver. He barely breathes. In his stillness, Obi-Wan studies him.

There is familiarity in his expression, his brow furrowed, plagued by worry even in dreams, his hair swept across his forehead. The slope of his nose. The bow of his lips, though the bottom one is red and raw as though he habitually frets at it. There is a deep, purple bloom around the orbit of his left eye, and the cracked seal of broken skin like the stain of a fist upon his cheek. Obi-Wan touches his own cheek, as though the blow might be reflected there as well, but it is smooth. His own injuries lie elsewhere.

For a moment, he debates waking the boy, debates ordering him to wash and dress, but he can’t think of seeing her again, or himself, or whichever ghost might be looking back at him from behind those eyes. So instead, he unfolds the spare blanket at the end of the bed, provided to compensate for the chill of deep space, and lays it gently atop the sleeping form.

He spends the rest of the trip in the cockpit staring out at the stars, and thinking of absolutely nothing at all.

They land on Coruscant in the middle of a beautiful day, and Anakin is there to meet him. 

“Another Council sanctioned secret?” he spits, as Obi-Wan stumbles down the ramp. “Another noble cause? What have you done with my ship?”

“I’m sorry,” says Obi-Wan, as Ahsoka shoulders her master aside to wrap Obi-Wan in a fierce embrace.

“We were worried,” she says.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

She pulls away, or he does, and her eyes catch on movement behind him.

“Korkie?” Her voice rises with surprise.

The boy still wears the grey uniform of his insurgency, though it is bloodied and torn, and he hangs over himself with his arms clasped around his middle as though to keep from spilling across the docks. He looks up at Ahsoka’s call, and blinks in the light of the day.

She leaves Obi-Wan, and he falters as she goes, moving to catch Korkie as he falls apart in her arms.

“You went to Mandalore?” Anakin asks, his voice threaded with outrage at this hypocrisy.

“I had to,” Obi-Wan says. “I had to.”

“Where’s Satine?” demands Ahsoka, from a distance. “Where’s his aunt?”

“Dead.”

Ahsoka is the first to recover.

“We should take him to the Halls, master,” she says, appealing to an Anakin still frozen in scrutinizing his own master. “I think his arm is broken, and his eye -” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, and Obi-Wan feels the focus levelled upon him strain and snap like an elastroband. “Let’s do that.”

They move slowly, up the steps, through the hangar, and past the minor customs and hazard authorities, and through the grand hallways of the Temple. Ahoska keeps her arm around Korkie’s waist, and lets him lean upon her, limping with exhaustion. Beside him, Obi-Wan can feel Anakin hovering close, but not touching, as though one or both of them might shatter with contact. He doesn’t reach out, and he is unaware of anything else until they come to the Halls of Healing and are ushered inside.

Then it is all confusion.

Korkie is pulled away from Ahsoka with a small cry as his arm is jostled, and probing fingers are pressed to his cheek. He grips Ahsoka’s hand in his own, and holds on as she tells the healers the little bit she has managed to glean since their arrival. The healers, unsatisfied, ask question after question about Mandalore, about his injuries, about the time since their occurence. They ask what hurts, and where, and how they happened. They ask if this was a fist, or a stick, or the back of a blade. They ask if he fell, or was pushed. They ask if there’s anything else, anything more, anything he’s hiding from them.

And Bant is there, too.

He can tell by the faint scent of deep sea salt, and the coolness of her hands upon his skin as she turns his face from the chaos of Korkie’s arrival to focus on her, and her alone.

“What about you?” she asks. “Where are you hurt?”

“I’m not hurt,” he mutters, the words habitual though no sound comes to fill them with weight.

She shines a light in his eyes, and he winces, turning away.

“A concussion,” she says. “At least. And what else?”

“I’m fine,” he says. “I’m fine. What about -?”

“He’s being taken care of,” she replies. “Now, let us do the same for you.”

The little light goes back in her pocket, and she takes him by the hand like a child. He goes with her, willingly, casting only one look back to find Anakin, watching him as always, as he is led away.

__

The room she takes him to is small, and white, and the door shuts behind her keeping back the world with it. She guides him to sit upon a little bed that reminds him of the one he once had in Qui-Gon’s quarters, but when she puts her hands on his shoulders to lay him flat, he gasps, and resists.

“No,” he says. “No, I’m fine.”

“Okay,” she says, her voice calm. “That’s okay, you don’t have to lie down. Just look at me, okay? And we’re going to figure this out. Yes?”

He nods. He trusts Bant. “Yes.”

“Now, we know about the concussion. Can you tell me if you were hit, or struck by anything?”

“I fell out of a ship,” he says, and to her credit, Bant doesn’t even pause between this question and the next.

“Were you alone?”

“No. I was with Satine. We were shot down. The ship fell, and we had to evacuate.”

The way he says it, the way he looks in this moment...Bant remembers how it was when he first came home from Mandalore, and she pulls a stool close to sit as near him as possible.

“Where is Satine now?”

He inhales sharply, the breath catching on his teeth, and tears still trapped deep in his chest.

“Do you know, I think I’m rather tired? I’d like to return to my quarters, now.”

“Obi-Wan -”

“I’d like to return to my room.”

“I know,” says Bant, taking his hand in hers. “I’m just going to give you a quick check over to make sure you’re not bleeding out anywhere, right? We know that’s very much a possibility with you, don’t we?” She smiles, trying to nudge him into something safe and familiar.

Very briefly, he smiles back, and relents. “Alright.”

“So,” she continues, pulling a holochart from a nearby drawer. “When you fell out of the ship, how did you land?”

“Badly.”

“Like how?”

“I hit my shoulder. I rolled. I tried to protect -”

But Bant cuts him off before he is strangled by memory.

“Okay, your shoulder, your ribs. How do your hips feel?”

“Fine,” he says. “I could walk after. I could run.”

“Your arms?”

“I don’t know.”

She sets her chart and stylus aside. “Can I see?” she asks.

He shrugs, but makes no objection when she reaches for the thick layer of a Mandalorian flight shirt that shrouds his torso. She lifts from the hem, and pulls the fabric upwards. His arms ache as they are drawn above his shoulders, and the high neck of the collar squeezes some colour back into his cheeks. He flinches in the chill of the room, and Bant apologises, pulling a pale green blanket across his back.

She frowns as she examines the markings upon his skin.

“Obi-Wan, that must’ve been some fall.”

“I’m sorry,” he says.

She doesn’t acknowledge this as she prods at him with impossibly soft, webbed fingers, frowning and tutting at each wince and grimace she elicits from him. 

“You’ve got some broken ribs,” she announces. “Some deep bruising. Let me see your hands.”

He gives her his left, and then his right when the first passes inspection. The second is not so lucky.

“This your saber hand?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve two broken fingers here,” she says. “Do you remember that happening?”

“No.”

“And bruising. Like a boot. Did someone step on your hand?”

“I don’t know.”

She taps the end of each, and he tries not to cry out, suddenly aware of the pain flaring there.

“The good news is, you’ve not lost any feeling,” she says. “The bad news is, you’re going to need a dip. I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan.”

“I don’t want bacta.”

“I know, but that concussion alone needs more sustained treatment if you don’t want to end up with some significant issues. And your hand…”

“I’m fine,” he says, pulling his hand away to hide it in the folds of the blanket. “You said I could go back to my rooms.”

“You know I didn’t,” she says. She knows him. She knows this dance, even if the steps are heavier and more fatigued than normal. She does not rise to his bait. She waits him out.

At last, his shoulders heave and droop, and he gives in. 

“Where’s Anakin?” he asks.

“Probably outside, half hysterical with worry by now,” she says.

“He hates me.”

“He doesn’t.”

“Where’s Korkie?”

“Who’s that?”

“The boy who came with me. He’s Satine’s - he’s Satine’s…”

She hesitates, not wanting to guess, but by his struggle she thinks the answer can only be one thing.

“Her son?”

He nods, a wordless gasp of distress breaking free of him. She wants to lean forward, to embrace him, but he’s still so distant that she knows he would not let her. So instead, Bant puts her hand upon his head, and strokes his hair over and over again from his crown to the nape of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t know she’d found someone else.”

But that’s not it. He shakes his head vehemently, as he clutches the blanket closer, and grits out a reply which Bant could not have anticipated no matter how many years of friendship lay between them.

“She didn’t,” he says. “He’s mine.”

And with that confession tumbling free, so too, comes grief, like huge rolling waves pulling him under, and spinning him upwards until he is disoriented and gasping for air. She doesn’t wait, now, instead reaching out to gather him in her arms, giving him something to hold onto, as the tides of anguish rise and rise, and eventually fall, and him with them, into a deep, exhausted sleep.

She eases him back onto the pallet, pulling the cover high, and dims the lights. 

In Admittance, she inputs her data into the medcomp, and makes a recommendation for immediate bacta immersion. Her face is somber, and stoic, showing nothing of what she feels or thinks of this turn of events. She doesn’t quite know, herself, in any case.

Anakin is waiting, his elbows braced upon his knees, one leg bouncing, standing out like a bruise against the ceramplast white of the hall.

“Where’s Obi-Wan?” he demands, rising to meet her as soon as she steps away from the monitor.

“Asleep,” she says. “We’re waiting on a dip. Where’s Korkie?”

“Ahsoka’s with him,” he says. “Did he tell you about the Duchess?”

“He did.”

Anakin nods. She watches as his jaw clenches, and the muscles there leap as he chews up the marrow of his thoughts.

“Kriffing idiot,” he spits. “I would have gone with him, if he’d asked.”

“Does he know that?”

“He should,” Anakin insists. “But he doesn’t trust me.”

“He doesn’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, great job,” Anakin says, a bark of laughter punctuating his words. It rings through the vaulted ceilings of the hall, a clarion of upset. “Now he’s hurt, and his girlfriend is dead.”

“Anakin!”

But Anakin’s outrage is mounting, and gathering like an Alderaanian storm falling off the mountains.

“Oh, don’t defend him,” he says. “Don’t pretend this isn’t on him, because it is. Just like the Hardeen thing. It was his choice to go alone. It was his choice to turn his back on us. It was his choice to leave me behind. I don’t feel sorry for him, Master Eerin. I don’t. He’s done this himself.”

Bant stares at him. She says nothing. She only waits until the impact of his words rebound from the blank slate of her response and fall back on him. She waits for him to hear himself, and she knows he does when his mechanical hand forms a fist, and his shoulders turn him acutely away from her gaze. Anakin sighs, his voice turning soft, his words clipped short.

“Just comm me when he’s out of bacta,” he says. He stalks out of the Halls without a backward glance.

Bant sighs, her guard dropping just in time for her to hear the soft click of another door closing from behind her. She turns with an admonition on her lips. If Obi-Wan has roused himself to chase after his padawan, he’ll have no help from her.

But instead, it is Anakin’s padawan she meets.

“Master Eerin?” she calls, slipping out of the room behind her. “Did Anakin talk to you about Obi-Wan?”

Bant frowns, then turns a rueful eye on Ahsoka, a smile twisting at her lips.

“In a manner of speaking,” she says.

“Oh,” says Ahsoka. “He’s still mad about the Rako Hardeen incident.”

“So I gathered,” says Bant. She flicks through pages of data on her holochart, idly reminding herself of the litany of abuse Obi-Wan had come to her with following that particular debacle so recently ago. 

Ahsoka watches her intently, her head cocked. She runs her hands nervously over a lekku before she speaks again. “Aren’t you still mad?” she asks.

“No,” says Bant, looking at her again, and seeing only youth where the Republic sees a Commander. 

“Why not?”

“A healer learns only to be grateful when someone comes back from death,” she says. “It doesn’t happen often enough to grow bitter for it.”

Ahsoka nods, and frowns again. It is clear that there is more she’d say, and more she’s considered in the weeks following Obi-Wan’s undercover mission. Things that she cannot say to her master, who is still angry, or to Obi-Wan who is still too lost to guide anyone with authority. So Bant sets her chart aside, and sits against the wall, gesturing for Ahsoka to join her.

“I wish they’d talk,” she says, as she drops into the seat next to Bant. “I mean, they do talk. We had that whole mission to Onderon, and everything was fine. I mean, mostly. But then...why wouldn’t Master Obi-Wan have come to us?”

“I don’t know, Ahsoka,” says Bant. “But I do know it was never meant as a slight against you. Whatever is between Obi-Wan and your master has nothing to do with how Obi-Wan feels about you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve known Obi-Wan since the creche, and I can tell you: he’s always been like this.”

Ahsoka is silent for a moment, considering this, but before her contemplation can slide into brooding, Bant intervenes, tapping her forearm with the stylus to draw her back to the present.

“What about that young man you carried in here? Korkie, was it?”

“Yeah,” she says. “He’s the Duchess’ nephew. We worked together the last time I was on Mandalore. The Prime Minister was establishing a black market, and he helped catch him.”

“By yourselves?” she asks, caught somewhere between surprise and a familiar chagrin.

“Well, with friends,” she says. “And his Aunt.”

“Sounds like a good kid,” says Bant, then laughs at Ahsoka’s grimace of distaste. “Tell me about him.”

“Oh, I don’t know him that well,” she replies. “He was really interested in the Jedi when we met, though. Kept asking about the Temple, and lightsabers, and Jedi philosophy. He’d mentioned something about Master Seva once, but I don’t remember enough about the Old Age philosophers to know what he meant.”

“I suppose philosophy and literature classes have somewhat fallen by the wayside in the past couple years,” Bant says. 

“I guess,” says Ahsoka. “But I don’t think I’d have time to write essays while in the middle of a dogfight, you know?”

“Tell me,” she says, pushing just a little further than is probably wise. “Did Korkie ever mention anything about his father?”

“No,” says Ahsoka. “Just that the Duchess was like a mother to him. That she raised him, and he grew up mostly in the palace. I assume he’s an orphan. Maybe he doesn’t remember. Or maybe it’s too painful to talk about. I didn’t ask.”

“No, no,” Bant assures her, patting her hand fondly. “Of course not. Do you think he’d mind if I went in to visit him?”

“Korkie? He was asleep when I left.”

“That’s for the best. I just want to give him a quick check up. Make sure nothing was missed. You’d better go after your master - make sure he doesn’t blow up something we can’t replace.”

Ahsoka smiles at that, and springs to her feet eager to be directed towards some useful task.

“You mean himself,” she says. “Anything else he could probably fix.”

“Or improve.”

“Or that!” Ahsoka agrees, laughing now. She gives Bant a quick bow, then exits the hall with a quick, and sturdy step while Bant slips silently into the room at her back.

It’s quiet inside, the air is warm, and it may as well be the same room she’d vacated earlier for all the similarity of the figure on the bed. He looks like Obi-Wan - the way she remembers him. He looks like he did in those in-between years of childhood and adolescence. His hair follows the same line, his brow furrows the same way, and in the soft light she takes a small sample of his blood and confirms that which she already knew for sure.

__

Anakin is waiting for him when he wakes. He sits at his bedside, and watches as he rises up through the fathoms of sleep, buoyed to the surface by piercing shafts of light, like a diver on Mon Cala. Anakin can feel his muscles twitch as consciousness returns in the dry warmth of the palm pressed flush against his own.

“What time is it?” Obi-Wan asks, blinking him into focus.

“It’s late,” he replies.

Obi-Wan relaxes, his head rolling back to settle against his pillow. “You should go to bed,” he says, and Anakin huffs with laughter.

“We’re way beyond that, old man.”

“Are you okay?” he asks, and that’s just so typical that Anakin smirks.

“I’m fine,” he says.

“Good.”

“Are you?”

The pleasant warmth of drowsiness is stripped away in his next breath, and Anakin can feel the  air turn so cold that it raises gooseflesh across his arms, and freezes against Obi-Wan’s lips. His fingers flex against the sheets, and Anakin’s hand tightens in response, keeping him there when he’d rather turn away.

“Don’t -” he warns, but Anakin doesn’t listen. He never does.

“You were in bacta for three days,” he says. “You could have died. All because you couldn’t bear to come to me first. To ask me. To trust me.”

“I do trust you, Anakin.”

“Don’t lie to me, too,” he says. 

“It’s the truth,” he swears. “I couldn’t - The Council -”

“I don’t care what the Council said,” Anakin protests. “I would have come for you, master.”

Obi-Wan blinks rapidly up at the lights overhead. Anakin can feel as he grasps clumsily at the insubstantial wisps of the Force, cloudy and distant with sedation, and grips his hand more firmly still. He, at least, is solid.

“What of Korkie?” Obi-Wan asks, at last.

Anakin slides his hand free.

“The kid? He’s fine. A little beat up, but nothing a couple of bacta patches and some bone knitters couldn’t fix. Ahsoka’s with him now.”

“Good,” says Obi-Wan, his breaths coming more and more easily. “That’s good.”

Anakin licks his lips, and sits forward, accepting of but not resigned to the fact that he will never get an admission from Obi-Wan that isn’t first willingly proposed. He knows this. It’s fine. They can talk about the kid.

“Why’d you bring him?” he asks. “What happened on Mandalore?”

“There was a coup,” says Obi-Wan in a tone like the salt flats of the Jundland Wastes. “Satine fell, and her government was usurped.”

“By who?”

“Maul.”

Anakin spits a curse like acid, but Obi-Wan scarcely seems to note it. Instead, he keeps talking as though Maul is the least of his story.

“But he wasn’t alone,” he says. “He had his brother. And Death Watch turned the people. The city was lost. I only meant to get her out.”

“And Korkie.”

“I took him because his aunt told me to.”

“Satine did?”

“She’s not his aunt,” his master says, the admission coming like a weary sigh. “She’s his mother, and I...he’s my son.”

There are many things that Anakin feels in this moment. There is a nasty, vindictive kind of ache that licks at his throat like flames when he hears that Maul had brought his own brother, when Obi-Wan had not. There is sorrow for the Duchess, and righteous indignation on her behalf at the perfidy of her people. There is a whipping cyclone of confusion and disbelief as Obi-Wan refers to a second woman whom Anakin doesn’t know, and then a son he’s already met, but who should be impossible. And an anger as this settles in, and he realises the depth of his master’s betrayal.

“Your son,” he repeats, and Obi-Wan only nods. He rises, having nothing more and far too much to say, and palms open the door. He spares Obi-Wan only a single moment from the threshold. “You should have told me,” he says.

And Obi-Wan, still gazing at the ceiling, still gripping the pleats of bedsheets in his hand, just shakes his head. “I didn’t know.”

[tessaliagrey]

Bo’s redemption - or the lack thereof

Every time we get an episode of Star Wars that has Bo-Katan in it, tumblr is full of everything from “OMG I love her, she’s the coolest and sooo badass!” to “OMG I hate her, she’s a terrorist!”. And I might say you are all right.

One of the things that comes up periodically is Bo-Katan’s redemtion - or the lack thereof - depending on how you see her character in general (see above).

In my opinion, Bo has no real redemption arc. And I don’t think we’ll ever get one. As to why, I think it helps to retrace her steps...as far as we as viewers know them.

The first time we see her in mid-season four of TCW, she is a faceless (literally) Death Watch lieutenant on Carlac. She slaps Ahsoka’s ass, burns down a town, helps kill the townspeople and tries to kill Ahsoka and Lux Bontari as they escape. And she seems to have fun doing all that. Yep, solid terrorist. And I’m not budging on that. There is nothing “badass” about that. It’s just wrong.

The first time we see her as an independent character is during the Lawless arc. She’s still fully emerged in Death Watch. And even though she might not think of getting Maul to “help” is a good idea (I think she really thinks that Sith are no better than Jedi), she stands by Vizsla’s decision to join forces with him.

But that is also the part where we begin to see that while she is loyal to Vizsla, she is also probably one of very few people who are allowed to contradict him. Maybe not publicly, but at least bewteen the two of them. She tells Vizsla to his face that she thinks joinging forces with Maul and Savage is a bad idea. But she seems to trust Vizsla so much that only a few words from him are needed to quench her fears; at least for the time being.

But the longer this allience between Maul and Death Watch lasts, the more worried she gets. She sees that Vizsla is loosing his grip on the situation. But her trust in him seems to be unbreakable. Even when he says that “Maul will soon be dead alongside the duchess”, she doesn’t say anything. She just smirks. He tells her to her face that her sister will die at the end, and she doesn’t say anything. (As to why, we can only speculate, and that’s not what I want to get into right now.)

And then, for a few days maybe, everything looks like it all panned out the way she wanted. Maul and her sister are imprisoned, a “true” Mandalorian rules, and the people will find their way back to the warrior faith that was still openly practiced until the beginning of Satine’s rule after the civil war.

But then, everything changes. And quickly. Maul escapes his prison and challenges Vizsla to a duel, which he naturally accepts (he might just run himself through with the Dark Saber if he didn’t). And loses. He dies; unceremoniously, broken and defeated. And only then, only in those last few moments of Vizsla’s life, does Bo-Katan realize that it was all for nothing. That her vision of Mandalore will not come to pass. That it ended in one swift motion of a black blade.

Maul declares himself ruler of Mandalore, and a not unsignificant part of Death Watch bows down to him. Bo rejects his rule - not because he killed Vizsla, which Bo is visibly shocked by - but because “no outsider will ever rule Mandalore”. She and others loyal to her, like the Nite Owls, make a run for it and escape the palace.

She then teams up with her nephew Korkie (How the hell did they get in touch?) to rescue Satine (Why? We never learn that!), and Bo seriously tries to save her sister’s life. But they are overpowered by Maul’s Death Watch loyalists and barely escape while Satine is recaptured as bait for Obi-Wan.

We don’t know where Bo was when Maul killed Satine or how she learned about her sister’s death. The next time we see her, she and her Nite Owls rescue Obi-Wan from being imprisoned and help him escape, asking him to tell the Republic what happened, even if it meant a Republic invasion of Mandalore. The reason she gives is that “Maul will die. But Mandalore will survive.” Why she wants Maul dead; if it is because he killed her sister, because he killed Vizsla or because he’s - from her POV - the reason it all failed, we never learn. Maybe, in the end, it is a combination of all three. But that is speculation.

Well, the Republic doesn’t get a move on when it comes to Mandalore and it takes the unlikely alliance of Bo-Katan and Ahsoka to get Anakin and Obi-Wan to agree. Again, all we really know is that Bo wants Maul off Mandalore, preferably in pieces. She brings up Satine to goad Obi-Wan into helping her, but we still don’t know if she actually grieves/grieved for her sister, or more for a lost ideal of Mandalore.

Well, the siege of Mandalore finally happens, and by the end, Bo is left in charge as regent. It is also the only time we hear any words of regret from her. “I wish I was good at something other than war.”

After that we have a nice 17 year gap in Bo’s story, and anything we know about that time comes down to hearsay. We learn that she was betrayed by Clan Saxon (who had followed Maul) and had to flee Sundari. We get the feeling that Fenn Rau as a protector knew her personally around the time of her regency, but we don’t really know that for sure.

But something in the past seventeen years did change in Bo-Katan. Well, it is quite some time to reflect on your actions and choices. We get the feeling that she did learn to understand her sister’s motives, though they will never be hers. And that she can recognize what her sister acomplished as a leader. She’s a lot more considerate of other people’s positions. But we never hear a word of regret for what she did during the Clone Wars, for being part of Death Watch. And maybe that is because there simply is no regret. Bo-Katan as a person might be a lot calmer and a lot more considerate, but her ideals of what Mandalore should be, of what it stands for and what it means to be Mandalorian, haven’t changed.

Bo-Katan may have matured; grown as a person. She does try to do right by her people. But there is no redemption. We might like the way her character is portrayed in Rebels and The Mandalorian, and we might even wish for her to be redeemed, but quite honestly: How?

No, I’m afraid we will have to live with our conflicting views of Lady Bo-Katan of House Kryze, where we love her and hate her, but can’t get around her. And face it, people, we wouldn’t want it any other way.

[phoenixyfriend]

So I was talking to @deniigi (Matt) about the "Kryzes bullying Mand'alors into doing their jobs" post and anyway. We have Developed A Korkie. He's regularly damseling himself in pursuit of Cute Strong Datemate.

Because, like, okay. The main thing with the Kryzes overall is that =, in Matt's words: "They're very good admins, and in the face of incompetence they rattle."

I can imagine them just hissing "You will be a FIGUREHEAD to keep people from fucking up my carefully-legislated taxation process if NOTHING ELSE."

But I don't have a solid adult Korkie! I don't! I have a few variations on him as a kid or teen, but nothing for him as an adult. I want to do more with him because I think he has the potential to be deeply weird in fun ways.

Also because I was thinking about the "Korkarius" line in Dead Peanut Gallery and the Korkie-got-politics-married in staring down the barrel of the hot sun, and I haven't really used him as a person instead of a prop outside of Skysisters and the 'let's lie to Hondo' thing.

Anyway.

Matt said:

I haven't really thought of korkie hmm. He strikes me as the kind of person who builds ships on bottles and would like to dress like a pirate every day but he's afraid of what the public will think if he shows up in a frock coat and cravat I can see his aunties indulging him shsjshs

And yes he is absolutely that kind of nerd, and I also do enjoy the idea of Bo-Katan being mildly less The Worst and deciding to just? Kidnap him for summer vacation? So she can teach him how to fight better.

But we can make it weirder!

Bo-Katan like. Buys him some ice cream and then attacks him while he has to try to keep the ice cream on the cone so he can actually finish eating it.

We don't. Really know what happened to Korkie.

It's very likely that he died when the empire glassed the planet BUT I want to believe that he ended up like. Head bureaucrat. No he's not a badass or even particularly well-known outside the system, but hey someone's got to keep an eye on agricultural subsidies and educational spending, right?

And possibly got marriage-of-convenienced For The Good Of Mandalore in a way that places him as a wistful period-drama maiden at a window, trapped in a pleasant but loveless marriage for the good of her people. (Yes, this is the part inspired a little by the earlier-referenced fic.)

It would be nice if he WERE involved in the rebellion through Sabine, I think? Like, helping surreptitiously funnel aid, smuggling refugees to safety, that sort of thing.

He has this terrible artist friend who keeps stealing him out from under the nose of his disappointed wife

But you know how Korkie is one of several young royals/nobles that gets to be damseled for Ahsoka to save?

Just play that out, trope-wise. His life is a fairytale but he's eternally stuck in the 'waiting for my prince to come' period. Someone probably put him in a tower for a few years during the imperial era and it was very 'sigh longingly by the window.'

Ahsoka keeps kidnapping him for things and he gets his thrills and then pines (I would love a story where people keep falling in love with ahsoka and she keeps ignoring it and fucking off)

He's got a well for sensitive boys. Like he's not this sad during TCW but man. Satine's death and the Empire really put a damper on everything.

Would love for him to be a full adult doing this at like 48 years old with a beard still

"Korkie, how the hell do you keep getting kidnapped? I thought you could fight better than this." "I am WAITING for my PRINCE to come but it's always YOU, Ahsoka, and you already said no." "Do you want me to leave you there next time???"

He does. Just for 5 more minutes Shskdhdidbdkd Korkie who feels some kind of way about din

Bo-Katan just "Listen I know you're not exactly looking for work right now, but I'm paying Fett to kidnap my nephew, so if you could just swoop in and 'save' him before Tano does, without mentioning I hired you to do it, that would be great."

"...what."

"It's his birthday."

"I'm more confused now than I was ten seconds ago."

Bo this would have been a very thoughtful gift when he was fifteen but your nephew is in his forties, please chill.

He still loves it He asks if she can send the mand'alor again please He got carried a little bit

I think I just like people being deeply weird about romance and their loved ones going "Yeah I mean... yeah, that's normal for them."

Korkie is so flirty with Din, who HAS been flirted with by not-fighty people before, but never a... he doesn't want to say 'a fop' but he's heard that slang before and he thinks it might apply

A FOP Sgskdhdjd Yes Perfect

It is at this point I must acknowledge that I'm mentally turning Korkie into a less-morally-questionable Tarvek Sturmvoraus.

Fashionable royalty that is very competent, but keeps getting kidnapped.

I am now thinking about Din receiving these letters and anonymous saves in weird situations and when he asks who sent so-and-so to give him a hand, he is just told "a benefactor"

Korkie sending him heavily-armed backup as a 'token of favor' like a handkerchief to a knight

Ahsoka is egging him on because this is the funniest romantic drama she's seen in years.

I want Luke getting annoyed with Leia trying to micromanage his wardrobe for an event, so he goes to Ahsoka, and she's like "I mean I've got a solution, if you're okay with middle-aged bisexual fancyboys talking about how they may or may not be related to Obi-Wan while they complain at you about how nobody goes around saving damsels properly anymore."

(Luke catches on the Obi-Wan part and agrees just for that.)

I think Ahsoka definitely spent some time "hiding out" on Korkie's couch as Fulcrum during early imperial era.

They developed a habit of overdramatically calling each other 'darling' and 'my dear' and 'old friend' in a perfect imitations of Obi-Wan and Satine because it made things hurt a little less.

I think korkie should continue to claim that he's obi-wans heir And I think force ghost obi-wan should have a post-death heart attack when he learns of it

I do also like including Satine in the "darksaber haunted by past Mand'alors" thing because I find it funny and also thing it would be EXTRA funny for Satine and Obi-Wan's ghosts to be making out in a corner while Luke and Din try desperately to ignore them.

Luke and Din trying to ignore the dead flirting going on behind him because their full attention is needed to cope with ahsoka being useless while korkie heaps praise on Din for things that are inconsequential

[glimmerglanger]

Maybe Dal-Voe's perspective on her many dads & one mom or the time she made her big ol' scary dog friend and wanted to cuddle him forever!

Oohhhh! We haven’t heard from Dal-Voe, yet. I also had a request from over on ao3 to have her and Korkie running into each other, so I’m putting that snipped in this reply, as well. :D. She’s… mmm 10ish in the first snippet, around six in the second (the one from ao3).

~~~~~~~

Dal-Voe scrubbed the back of her arm across her face when she felt a warm, familiar presence getting closer. She’d known someone would find her, eventually. The Temple was gigantic, but there were only so many places she liked to go.

She sighed, staring out over the sprawling mass of Coruscant from her position on one of the ledges that ran around the roof. She’d managed to find a way out a few years ago and liked to retreat there; it made her feel like she could see the entire world.

“He deserved it,” she said, without even looking around. She felt Cody pause, a few steps away, not surprised that he’d risk the walk out onto the roof. He’d always been sure and steady, and, besides, she was there. She’d catch him if he slipped. 

“Rhom deserved to have his nose broken?” Cody asked, amused and chiding at the same time, and Dal-Voe winced. 

“I didn’t mean to break his nose,” she said, sighing and looking up as Cody finally reached her. He sat, easily, as though there were not so many hundreds of feet above any landing, soft or hard. “I just…” She sighed, and leaned forward into him, curling an arm around his shoulders and pressing her cheek to his.

He rumbled in his chest, a comforting little sound that chased away all the pressure in her head, and always had. She exhaled, closed her eyes, and admitted, “He said I ought not to keep scent-marking you. That it was wrong. Because you’re not… really my family.”

Cody stiffened, a little. He said, voice gruffer, “You can’t punch people just for being wrong, Dal.”

She laughed, just once, rubbing her forehead back and forth across his jaw. “He said I just do it for attention.” And the words had stung, at the time. The implication that she’d ever try to - to lie about how she cared about any of her family had felt like a barbed lash across her heart.

She knew, perfectly well, that Anakin was her father by blood, and Force knew she loved him, too, even though she didn’t see him much. But Cody had always smelled like family to her, it had always felt right for him to be there in the Force, the same way it was with Obi-Wan and Kei-Donn, and…and even the twins--

“Well, he’s an idiot,” Cody said, his arm around her, solid and strong. Comforting. “You’re my girl, aren’t you?”

“I am,” she agreed, exhaling and snuggling closer, wishing, briefly, that she was still small enough to be just picked up and held. They sat there in silence, the wind cold and sharp so far up on the Temple, until the aching in her chest eased enough for her to continue, “It’s not just what he said.”

“Oh?” Cody asked, and she nodded against his shoulder, biting at her bottom lip. 

“I’ve been… worried. About other things.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with training with a Master, would it?” 

And she wrinkled her nose, always a bit irritated when her parents proved that they knew her so well. But it was a relief, too, to be known. To be understood. She shut her eyes once more, picking at the hem of her robe. “Yes. I know it’s early, but… but, I’ve been having the dreams again.”

Cody tightened his grip, noticeably. They rarely spoke of the dreams she had, sometimes, the ones that had left her screaming her way awake when she was younger. She’d gotten a better handle on them, with Master Yoda’s help, but… 

“I can feel a darkness coming,” she whispered, quiet, into the chilly air, the back of her neck prickling. “I can feel something awful, out there. Waiting for me.”

“Well, it can go on waiting,” Cody said, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair, his emotions curling around her, a comforting wave of determined protection. “And if it tries to come for you, it’ll have to go through me, first.”

And the words should have been a comfort. They were, even. But there was a pit, in the base of Dal-Voe’s stomach, that informed her that maybe, perhaps, that was what she was most afraid of. She shuddered. She needed to convince Master Ahsoka to start training her, quickly.

AND NOW, HALF-SIBLING TIME

Korkie felt an itching on the back of his neck for no discernable reason. He’d come out to the Senate gardens for a breath of fresh air. Bo-Katan had made serving as envoy to the Republic sound like an important responsibility, when she gave him the job. He was beginning to think it was nothing but a headache.

Mandalore had not joined the Republic - Korkie doubted, privately, that they ever would - but even his aunt could see the use of keeping… lines of communication more open than they had been in the past.

Hence his placement on the planet, far from home and his parents and--

And the back of his neck would not stop itching. He sat aside the padd he was looking at, turning to look over his shoulder, expecting to find a droid or perhaps an aide from one of the Senators.

There was a girl. Staring at him, with a curious look on her face. She had an absolute mop of curls and bright eyes, a scattering of freckles over her nose. She was dressed like one of the Jedi, though she couldn’t have been more than six, perhaps seven.

Korkie cleared his throat, when the girl just went on staring at him, and said, “Ah… hello, there. Are you...lost?”

The girl frowned at him. “No,” she said, “I always know where I am.” And then she walked up, tilting her head to the side, still staring at him, her hazel eyes narrowing. “I’m Dal-Voe. Who are you?”

Korkie looked around, wondering if, perhaps, the Jedi just allowed their children to roam, free-range, across all of Coruscant. She certainly seemed to have no adult with her. He said, “I’m Korkie Kryze, are you sure you’re supposed to--”

“You feel familiar, Korkie Kryze,” she interrupted, coming to a stop before him, both hands on her hips. 

“I feel what?” Korkie asked, looking around again, and the girl reached out and put a hand on his face, turning his head back. He blurted, “I beg your pardon, miss, but--” and she frowned at him, something about the set of her mouth….abruptly very familiar.

He cut off, gaping quite unlike the professional diplomat he was supposed to be. There was something familiar, too, about the shape of her eyes and brows. Something he’d seen before, quite often. Almost every time he looked in a mirror, in fact.

And Korkie had never interrogated, much, his connection to Master Kenobi. His fathers had told him, when he was much younger and grown curious about how, exactly, two alphas had come to have a child, about his adoption. They’d told him, after her death, of the truth regarding his Aunt Satine. The rest had fallen into place when he’d come to Coruscant. 

It had been… interesting, to learn more about his background, but his parents were, he knew, still back on Mandalore, helping with the restructuring efforts, pushing back at some of the more… inappropriate policies put forward by Bo.

He cleared his throat and said, to the frowning girl before him, “I don’t suppose your last name is Kenobi?”

She grinned at him, all at once, showing a missing tooth right in the front of her mouth. “That’s right,” she said, her eyes widening as she asked, “How’d you know that, mister?”

He shook his head, wondering how to even go about explaining their… connection, but he was interrupted in that moment by Senator Amidala running into the little courtyard, her long skirts hitched up in one hand, her expression tense as she blurted, “Dal-Voe! There you are! Do you know how worried I’ve been?”

Dal-Voe looked over at her, expression abruptly abashed, and said, “No, but, look. I found someone interesting.”

[disregardcanon]

okay but in an au where obi-wan decided to stay with satine on mandalore to help support her eventually get married, he wasn’t on naboo to fight darth maul. for plot reasons, let’s say that qui-gon had more of a leg up on maul and managed to cut the guy in half, sparking maul’s whole Maul Thing. 

qui-gon doesn’t die, takes anakin as his padawan, and all that good stuff. anakin ends up being the jedi sent to mandalore during the first issue with satine. he knew that duke obi-wan used to be qui-gon’s padawan, but he’s still kind of baffled. 

there are interesting interactions between anakin and the guy who shared his master, who is in some way living the life that anakin has occasionally envisioned for himself and padme, and is like. wow this crazy. he gets to be in love with this awesome lady and have a kid (because korkie is obviously the obitine baby). and, of course there’s the resentment of him still thinking that obi-wan is qui-gon’s favorite, he’s some sort of consolation prize, and that obi-wan gets EVERYTHING

qui-gon says that not being able to stop obi-wan from leaving the order was his biggest regret, though, so anakin never dwells on it long. 

satine’s rule is even MORE controversial than in canon because her husband is a former jedi on top of her being a dirty pacifist. maul stews in anger, trying to figure out the best way to get back at his enemies. 

qui-gon has two former padawans, and really, either of them would be good targets. skywalker, if the vibes that he’s getting off the kid are correct, would be a blow both to qui-gon AND sidious. but he’s a very strong jedi who is always on the front lines along with his competent padawan, tons of clones, and lots of times qui-gon himself. getting to him and killing him would be a real pain in the ass. 

but obi-wan kryze? well. there’s a whole group of militant mandalorians hell-bent on overthrowing the pacifist duchess and her jedi husband, and if the whispers he’s heard are right he hasn’t kept his dueling up nearly as much as his political skills. he seems to be an easier target, and one who comes with far greater rewards. he gets to kill qui-gon jinn’s first beloved apprentice and greatest regret right in front of him, and well. maul has never been one to do things by halves. 

when qui-gon gets to mandalore, maul wastes no time in staging his former apprentice’s murder right in front of him. (bo gets satine and korkie out, but. the damage is already done. mandalore belongs to maul, obi-wan is dead, and the rift between sisters is bigger than it was even before) 

qui-gon gets back, and he’s devastated by the loss of obi-wan, being outward with his grief in a way that jedi are never allowed to be. anakin feels a little more resentment bubble in his belly against the dead duke of mandalore.

and then, when the kryzes and ahsoka come to ask for anakin and qui-gon’s help liberating mandalore from maul, bo-katan is the one to leverage qui-gon’s love of obi-wan in this case (because she’s bo-katan. that sort of asshole move is what she does) and qui-gon says that he can’t allow his grief to rule him when the republic needs him elsewhere. 

anakin feels like he’s been stabbed, because if qui-gon won’t make an exception for his golden first padawan who he still loves despite leaving him... why would he make an exception for him, the one padawan he took just because he thought he was the chosen one who would save the world? 

[direwolfrules]

3 Mandos and a Baby AU Incorrect Quotes: Cadet Squad and Ahsoka Edition

******

Ahsoka: If you put a milkshake in one yard and crack open a cold one in another yard, which yard would the boys go to?

Korkie: Schrödinger's boys.

Soniee: FUCK!

Amis: What about cracking open a cold milkshake?

Lagos: As we all know, the milkshake brings the boys to the yard. The presence of the boys is a prerequisite for the cracking open of a cold one, but cold ones do not have any inherent boy-attracting abilities. Milkshakes, however, do.

Lagos: All else being equal, the boys would proceed to the milkshake yard. While it is possible to announce the presence of cold ones in the hope of attracting some boys, the pull of the milkshake is much more powerful by comparison.

Ahsoka: ...

Korkie: ...

Soniee: ...

Amis: ...

Lagos: Mind you, all of this nonsense hinges on whether or not the boys are back in town.

******

Amis: Some people are like slinkies.

Ahsoka: What?

Amis: Not really good for much but bring a smile to your face when you push them down the stairs.

Ahsoka:

Ahsoka: Please don't push Soniee down the stairs.

Amis, pushing Soniee down the stairs: Too late.

******

Soniee: They don’t make them like me no more. I’m the last of my kind.

Amis: Thank god.

******

Korkie: Thank you for not saying "I told you so."

Lagos: When you’re as right as I am, you don’t have to say it.

******

Lagos: Why is Korkie crying?

Amis: They saw a leaf on the sidewalk and-

Korkie: IT LOOKED SO CRUNCHY!

Lagos: Please don’t say what I think you’re gonna say-

Korkie: AND WHEN I STEPPED ON IT THERE WAS NO CRUNCH!

Lagos: NO, NOT THAT!

******

Soniee: I’m genuinely surprised you haven’t gotten arrested, let alone gotten a felony yet.

Korkie: Nat 20 Charisma.

Soniee: That is NOT how that works-

******

Ahsoka: Why does Korkie always do the laundry so loudly?

Lagos: So everyone knows that no one helps them out in the house.

Korkie, in the distance: *slams the washing machine shut*

******

Ahsoka, washing the dishes: Who the fuck used this pan??

Ahsoka: Wait. I the fuck used this pan…

Amis: It was you the fuck.

Ahsoka: It was I the fuck…

Korkie: Who cooks rice in a pan?

Amis: They the fuck.

******

Amis: Protip is you do not feel good about yourself after eating tomato sauce on iceberg lettuce.

Ahsoka: What's wrong with you??

Amis: I literally JUST said I ate tomato sauce on iceberg lettuce?? Pay attention.

Soniee: No, they mean other than that.

Amis: Ohhhhhh.

Amis: I haven't slept in 4 days.

******

Korkie: Hello all, it is I, your favorite person.

Amis: Actually, Ahsoka is my favourite.

Korkie: Okay then, it is I, that bitch.

******

Amis: Oh, my God. Do you know what this is?

Soniee: It’s a book. There’s a lot of those in here, this is a library.

******

Lagos: So, Korkie is no longer allowed to take the trash out at night.

Soniee: Why?

Lagos: Because I've caught them trying to train raccoons to fight five times in a row.

Korkie, arms crossed and pouting: You'll be thanking me when the third raccoon battalion saves your ass.

******

[mostthingskenobi]

Hi! I’m hoping you can help cuz I’m re-watching the clone wars and every time I try to delve into some Satine/Obi-Wan fics, I get overwhelmed by AO3 and just give up. SO, do you have and Obitine fic recs?? I would very much appreciate it cuz I love them and cry about them daily. Also your posts on Korkie being their love child made me CONVINCED

Hello there! This is not meant to be snarky at all... but have you read my fics?? They are mostly obitine fics. I’ll list them all here just in case you weren’t aware that I have written a small library of that particular Obi-Wan genre. And at the end I’ll include some of my fav fics that I did not write.

MOST THINGS KENOBI’S OBITINE LIBRARY

The Jedi and His Duchess Summary: Satine Kryze is a pacifist because of the Mandalorian civil war. But the idea first takes root in her mind after watching something terrible happen to Obi-Wan Kenobi. The story of how Obi-Wan and Satine fell in love when they were young, and how their feelings reemerged when they reconnected during the Clone Wars. Told in flashbacks. Takes place pre Phantom Menace and post Clone Wars episode Duchess of Mandalore. Read it on AO3  |  Read it on Tumblr

The Dark Side of Obi-Wan Kenobi - Part 1 Summary: What would it take for Obi-Wan Kenobi to lose faith in the Jedi Code? Darth Maul and some other baddies are eager to find out. An AU where Obi-Wan does not escape Mandalore after Satine’s death. Darth Maul makes good on his threat and imprisons Kenobi in the Sundari prison. Will our handsome ginger-bearded Jedi Master survive or will Maul exact perfect revenge? Read it on AO3  |  Read it on Tumblr

The Dark Side of Obi-Wan Kenobi - Part 2 Summary: Our handsome Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, senses unfathomable darkness rising inside him. Maul left Kenobi’s life in shambles, breaking his faith in the Jedi Code, murdering his love, and leaving him for dead in a Sundari prison. Now, as Obi-Wan struggles to regain his footing, he’s haunted by his past. Reliving torture, loss, and pain he begins to suspect something evil is manipulating his emotions, making it nearly impossible to resist the call to the Dark Side. As his faith in the Jedi Code crumbles, so does his ability to trust his own mind. Read it on AO3  |  Read it on Tumblr

A Jedi’s Resolve Summary: Obi-Wan and Satine finally have a moment alone. Will he stand by his Jedi Code, or will she force his resolve to crack? Takes place during Season 2 of The Clone Wars after episode 14, “Duchess of Mandalore.” Read it on AO3  |  Read it on Tumblr

The Secret Duke of Mandalore Summary: Obi-Wan is struggling to put the horrors of the Kadavo slave facility behind him. Desperately needing sanctuary, he makes his way to Mandalore. He and the Duchess Satine wander through the palace gardens, but Obi-Wan is not able to hide his anxieties from her. Will Satine be able to help Obi-Wan or will his emotions get the better of him? Read it on AO3  |  Read it on Tumblr

Wounded Jedi Summary: When Obi-Wan is gravely injured during a botched rescue operation, he turns to Mandalore for sanctuary. Reunited with Satine after months of separation, the Jedi and his Duchess find it difficult to resist their desires. A bit of blood and violence, some merciless flirting, and some classy smut. Read it on AO3  |  Read it on Tumblr

After Qui-Gon’s Death Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi is in a state of grief. Watching Qui-Gon die was extremely traumatic and he’s considering leaving the Jedi Order. A writing prompt sent to me on Tumblr. Read it on AO3  |  Read it on Tumblr

Drinks with a Jedi Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi has gone down to the lower levels of Coruscant to get away from prying eyes and have a few drinks while incognito. He asks his old flame, Satine Kryze, to join him even though he assumes she’ll turn him down. A bit of banter and some booze. Takes place sometime during the Clone Wars. Read it on AO3 | Read it on Tumblr

Under the Stars with a Jedi Summary: A short piece that takes place during the year Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon spent protecting Satine. After a long day, Kenobi and Kryze lay out under the stars. There may or may not be dancing involved. Complete fluff ensues. Read it on AO3 | Read it on Tumblr

A Jedi’s Love is in Between Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi never said the words “I love you” to Satine Kryze… but he wanted to. A short one-off piece that explores how Kenobi’s feelings for the Duchess of Mandalore change over his lifetime. Read it on AO3 | Read it on Tumblr

If This is the End Summary: A micro Obitine fic. A small moment shared by Obi-Wan Kenobi and Satine Kryze. Read it on AO3 | Read it on Tumblr

When Obi-Wan Married Satine Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi and the Duchess of Mandalore decide to marry in secret. They meet in a secluded garden where a Force priestess conducts a private wedding. Read it on AO3 | Read it on Tumblr

Much Ado About Kenobi Summary: Padmé Amidala is hosting a large party. The Duchess of Mandalore attends, as do many of our favorite Jedi and clones. Unfortunately, tensions are running high between Satine and Obi-Wan; she has not yet forgiven him for faking his death. Anakin, Ahsoka, and Rex will try to mend fences between the Jedi Master and the Duchess by using well intended trickery. Read it on AO3 | Read it on Tumblr

Obi-Wan Kenobi Angst-Filled Mini Fics Summary: Looking for little doses of Obi-Wan being tormented, injured, or angry? Step right this way… Read it on AO3

OTHER OBITINE RECS

Uh......

.................I don’t seem to have any obitine fics bookmarked. I had a bunch on AO3 but all my bookmarks seem to have been deleted??? Not sure what happened.

I hate to fail you dear Anon. You have my deepest apologies. Looks like I might have to look for some new fics. One problem for me is I don’t like to read fics while I’m writing fics. I want all my fics to come from original ideas and not get influenced by what I’m reading. I’m sorry if this answer is a complete bust for you :(

[gabriel4sam]

Rex, Duke Consort of Mandalore

Order 66 breaks the galaxy and everything Rex ever knew. Desperate, grieving Cody, Obi-Wan, his General, his brothers lost because of the chip, he takes Ahsoka and runs to the only place with a chance of standing against the Empire: Mandalore. Mandalore and its Duchesse.

Under the cut, a fic for the awesome @wrennette  

You really should read  her work with Rex, Cody, Obi-wan and Satine, because i’s a delight!

The Republic burned.

The Republic burned and Rex and Ahsoka ran from their men, who had gone in a few seconds from searching for Maul with them in the Outer Rim to trying to murder the former Padawan.

The Republic was no more.

The Jedi were no more.

Desperate, feeling himself responsible for the young Tortuga, even if she insisted it was the other way, Rex only thought of one way to turn.

Mandalore.

Mandalore….Why choose Mandalore?

Well, it was one of the only worlds he had visited that wasn't somehow on fire at the time. It was backed up by all the Neutral party subsisting. It was strong, it was very much not the type to open the door to a tyrant from another world.

And more important, it was the only world where he knew personally the leader.

As the long way to the planet passed, Rex asked himself numerous times if he was right. Would Satine even remember him? It had been almost one year ago and so much had come to pass in that time.

In his memory, she was a moment of pleasure, a harbour. Of course, there had been other pleasures. Since the moment Cody and Obi-Wan had become an item, he had been invited in their bunk regularly, and there had been other experiences. But that night, that single perfect night, Satine, Cody, Obi-Wan and him, was a clear memory, a warm coal against the shadows of war.

Perhaps it had been different for her. Perhaps Cody and he had just been a kinky game between Obi-Wan and herself, a naughty night with sex toys...

No, he didn't really believe it. He knew that what Cody and Obi-Wan had, that had been real, had been love.

That's why the idea that one of the two had probably killed the other hurt so deep. He had tried to com them once, before Ahsoka and he had to throw away their comms and there had been no answer. If Cody had killed Obi-Wan, his eyes empty, with that damn sentence on his lips like the brothers who had tried to kill Ahsoka.... good soldiers follow orders. What did that even mean?

Or if Obi-Wan had killed Cody in self-defence?

The Commander had always been just one step behind the Jedi, guarding his back, after all. And all over the galaxy, vode had killed the Jedi that had their back to them. Next to him, Ahsoka was sleeping, exhaustion having finally beaten her, after days where she had been almost delirious, Seeing and Feeling things Rex couldn’t guard her off.

He touched carefully the bandage on her shoulder. Blood stained it, but it was dry. He examined the stain. No, it didn’t seem it had started to bleed again. The memory came back, the noise his brother’s had made when Rex had put a blaster charge in his skull, to save Ashoka’s life.

He had been a shiny, without a proper name yet.

With a sigh, Rex put his head against the shuttle wall and regretted to have no religion. Now would have been a good time to pray. How did people find religion? Did they just pick one they liked? If so, he would choose one where the world make kriffin sense and the thrice damned Sith burned in the afterlife, and where brothers found each other again. And if that particular religion didn’t exist, he was half ready to create one!

They arrived on Mandalore in the middle of the night.

It was....ok, it was an administrative mess. People can't exactly arrive in orbit in a stolen shuttle and ask to speak with the planetary leader. But Rex spoke to someone who spoke to someone who spoke to someone and two hours after they were escorted by guards armed to the teeth to the palace.

“Aren't you pacifist now?” Rex asked, nearing the end of his patience, and eying the blaster of the leader of their escort, a petite woman who had not deigned to offer a name or to take his helmet down to salute them.

“We are no easy prey,” the woman answered and even with the helmet Rex could hear the teeth in her grin, an impressive trick.

He didn’t have to fear Satine’s reaction. She was as he remembered, she was more even, bigger than life, strong, decisive. That woman had fought all her life to make the galaxy a better place, her life a long line of tasks, each as momentous as possible, from the bettering of Mandalore to the Council of Neutral systems. She had made horrible mistakes, she had taken the wrong roads sometimes, but her heart always had been in the right place. Satine had never despaired, never renounced and she wouldn’t now, at the darkest hour. She bore that new mantle with her usual grace.

Mandalore opened his arms to all people fleeing from the Empire.

Mandalore opened his arms to the surviving Jedi.

Mandalore opened his arms to the vode with disfunctionning chips.

The clones trickled down slowly, grim-faced, and placed themselves under Rex’s command. Every day, the captain consulted the list of new arrivals. Cody and Obi-Wan were never on it.

The Jedi were even fewer. After a time, Ahsoka started to bunk with them. She was the only one of them who turned her back on the vode. Even if it hurt, Rex understood.

On the holonet for a few days, the images had been easy to find. Troopers suddenly turning against their Jedi, shooting them in the back. The desperate few parades the Jedi had the time to do, so surprised a first blaster shoot easily slipped past. And then so many others, even when the Jedi were down, the body twitching with it.

After a few days, the images disappeared. Someone smarter in the new Empire command had probably understood video of Jedi gunned down by thirty time their number, in the back, weren’t such good propaganda.

Satine offered two places on her Council, one for Rex, representing the vode deserting and running to Mandalore, and one for Master Knol Ven'nari, a Bothan female Jedi Master the few surviving Jedi had elected as their leader.

One day, a shiny who had been on the Negotiator manning communications, arrived in a stolen fighter. He had heard Rex’s message, relayed by Mandalore on every channel. He came with only his armour on his back and a tale of another Jedi, gunned down by his troops.

“I don’t think General Kenobi had the time to understand,” he said, as nicely as he could, when he saw the expression of Rex. Master Knol Ven'nari, seated next to Rex, growled low, what Rex had quickly learned was an expression of mourning in Bothan.

“Commander Cody made them use a very big calibre. No time to suffer with such a wound. And then the fall from the cliff… It went very quick.”

“And Cod- Commander Cody?”

“He was called to the Imperial Center. Apparently, Vader wanted him to lead his personal legion. Vader’s fist. They…hem, they were your men, sir. The 501th. But his transport was caught in one of the last pocket of resistance. I mean, one of the last, apart Mandalore. The transport exploded.”

Rex told it to Satine and Ahsoka himself. Satine thanked him very politely, and then asked him to leave. Ahsoka wailed in his arms for hours and he finally let himself cry too.

That night, he dreamed of them. They were in bed, the three of them, Obi-Wan between Cody and Rex, smiling, laughing. Rex was covering Obi-Wan’s bellies with hundreds of kisses. Then the laugh stopped and when Rex straightened up to look at him, there was blood everywhere, from Obi-Wan’s throat to Cody’s hands.

Every day, new refugees arrived.

“The Empire will come,” Bo-Katan whispered to her sister, when they were watching another long column exiting a ship and Satine nodded, her soul weighted by all her dead dreams.

“Oh, I know. The Empire will not let anything free. And offering refuge to those fleeing it will only put us higher on the list of targets.”

“This could be the end of Mandalore,” Bo-Katan remarked, as they observed Korkie working with Ahsoka and two young Mandalorians, handing out cups of warm soup. The first stopping place of the refuge were the medics, Mandalore really didn’t need some strange of outbreaks of little known virus right now, but nobody said they had to do it with empty bellies.

Satine took her sister gauntleted hand in her bare one.

“Then, I’m happy you’re here with me. If Mandalore must burn against the Empire, we’ll give it an end worthy of songs.”

Bo-Katan gripped her hand in return.

Mandalore was pacifist, officially, but Mandalore remembered the old ways. It didn’t need long to arm the planet to the teeth, probably less than would have made Satine comfortable. Soon, Mandalore was ready for a siege.

“It’s like even children had cache of weapons,” Satine remarked to Rex. They had listened all morning to her closest advisors preparing for what would probably be the first wave of the Empire attack and then she had asked Rex for her arm and took him for a stroll in the palace whose purpose he couldn’t understand.

“Your Highn-“he stopped himself. Pacifism had been her dreams and now she was probably the only Mandalorian not wearing plastoid. He didn’t know what words to offer.

She snorted.

“You should call me Satine. It would be strange not to, with our past,” She said and it was the first time they acknowledged what had happened, half an eternity ago. That one, perfect night, the four of them on the Coronet.

“If we are using our first name, can I convince you to wear armour? That would really make everyone in your immediate entourage happy.”

“No.”

“Pretty sure your sister would even smile.”

“She hasn’t in ten years.”

“Best reason to help her, then.”

“Still no.”

She touched his hand and he closed his mouth, already open for an answer.

“I didn’t ask you for a walk together for a discussion about my security. The stars known I have enough of that with Korkie and my sister. I have a mission for you. It will be a difficult one. That chip you told us about in your debrief….”

“Yes?”

“The medics need one of your brother. Alive, with the chip working.”

“To dechip him?”

She grimaced.

“Not like you think. The Empire is too big. We’ll lose. Nobody is saying it, but the minute they have finished to put out fire left and right, the full might of the GAR, ex-GAR I should say, will fall on Mandalore. It’s only a question of time. We’re strong, and armed, but we’re also the only one in the Neutral Systems. At the end, it won’t be enough. We will resist first, we’ll make it costly for them, but at the end…We need a way to destroy the chip still in the skulls of your brothers. The medics extracted some chips malfunctioning on the brothers who joined us at your call, and they designed a prototype, a sonic weapon. But we need a functioning chip to be sure. ”

Rex wanted to throw up. He let her arm go, took a few steps away from her. What had he been thinking, talking about that damn chip? All natural born were the same, even the ones speaking of friendship and equality of rights.

“Are you saying…. No. No, as much as I want the Empire down. I can’t help you design a weapon to kill all my brothers.”

He trembled, furious. He wanted to strike her. He thought of his brothers, enslaved and brainwashed, eyes empty, and Satine had probably never been in such danger, because he could have throttled her.

His anger probably was open on his face, still, she marched to him and put a hand on his cheek, despite his instinctive movement away.

“I want to save them,” she whispered fervently, “Yes, there is a risk, there is always a risk in medical experimentation, but I want a weapon that will make them free, not a weapon that will make their heads explode. I want to see the chips die in their heads and your brother picking up their weapons and turning on the Empire. We can’t rescue them and de-chip them one at a time. There are too many of them. I want to make them free, legion by legion, hundred by hundred…I want to rescue every single one of the victims of the Sith. Help me, Rex. For all those we can’t help anymore. I want to see Palpatine burn, the stars forgive me, burn, him and his shadow enforcer with that red saber. I want to see Palpatine down and spit on his corpse and then, Obi-Wan and Cody’s souls will have peace.”

She was beautiful like that, the fire of her soul in the open, calling for the blood of those who had destroyed the world and their lost ones. Rex felt the world titling on his axis. Adrenaline was still burning in his blood and he reacted before thinking and took her mouth in a brutal kiss, that wonderful, extraordinary woman.

It was like a spark falling on gasoline.

One instant, they were standing in a hall of the palace, the other Satine had opened the closest door, locked them in a small room, still kissing.

They had endured high level of stress those last days, those last months, something had to give and they came together violently.

Satine couldn’t touch him, too much armour in the way, but she kissed him hard, with an edge of desperation, opened his codpiece herself. He rucked up her skirt until he could touch skin, then swore remembering his gauntlets and took them down, almost trembling. He was hard, as he hadn’t been for months, too stressed, too exhausted, and now his dick was curving towards his belly and so hard it almost hurt.

There were pearls of sweat in the hollow of her throat and he swiped his tongue to taste them, then bit down once, probably harder than was protocol with a lover still so unknown.

Satine ran her nails on his neck in answer and they bit each other in another hungry kiss. He was tearing her underwear off her before really thinking and she hoped on a table.

They fucked like that, Satine still dressed to the last button of her dress, Rex with only his codpiece opened, and he saw her grimace when he entered her. He stopped, suddenly remembering he had saw Obi-Wan use his mouth first on her their only time together, and cursing his inexperience. That night, more than one year ago, had been his only experience with a human woman, and he wasn’t sure two nights with a Rhodian female once qualified.

“Don’t stop!” She protested, urging her from her legs around him.

In her eyes, darker than usual, he saw the same despair of something, of a moment without weigh on their shoulders. He kissed her again, deep and hard. That, he knew how to do. He kissed her again and again as he started to move and he fucked her on that table, Satine nails hard on his neck, her voice encouraging. It was less about pleasure and more about need. He came too fast, muffling his groans against her lips and observed with keen eyes when she made herself come with her fingers, swearing silently to himself to remember the way she did it.

It startled him to realize he hoped for another time. He remembered Cody had used his mouth on her, too, when Rex had been busy with Obi-Wan. He wanted to try that, another day, if he lived to ask.

Ten hours after, he left Mandalore with nine brothers, all volunteers. Ahsoka had wanted to come with them, but he had refused.

“If we have to kill some vode to kidnap another, we want to do it ourselves.” The former Commander had protested and he had hugged her hard, until she had relented and hugged back, as hard.

“Take care of the vode here and the Jedi, ok? They need someone helping them connect again. We’re gonna need to be united.”

“They know it’s not your fault,” Ahsoka answered him. “You know the Jedi know. It’s just…”

“It’s difficult and perfectly understandable. But they still need to be battle ready. War is coming for us. We’ll deal with trauma later, if there is a later.”

He hugged her a second time.

“And take care of the Duchess, too,” he added, not watching her face as he entered the shuttle.

If he had looked at Ahoska, he wasn’t sure he would have the strength to leave. For how much he liked them, he didn’t really know any of the brothers that had joined them. He didn’t even really know Satine. He only had Ahoska and she only had him. He hoped she could herself connect with the other surviving Jedi, if he didn’t came back.

For the end of their lives, the ten brothers of the strike team would refuse to speak about this mission, ever. No debriefing, no questions, no tender asking would ever make them tell the tale of that particular part of their lives.

Whatever had happened, it ended like that: a fortnight after leaving, they came back, all alive if a little burned in some case. Rex dropped off three sedated brothers from the 91st Mobile Reconnaissance Corps into the waiting arms of Satine’s medics.

The Duchess had come to the medical compound at the news of their arrival. She saw his face and wisely didn’t ask questions, only took him back to her apartment. This time, they got as far as finding some softer surfaces before her underwear lost its fight against Rex’s fingers. He knelt on the carpet and did his best with his mouth, but was sure that one or twice, that had been too much for her, his fingers and mouth too insistent. He took her against the arm rest of a sofa, still half in armour, Satine cursing in a language he had never heard of her, asking for more.

After, he cried, without a word, the horrors of this particular mission pouring in his tears, and Satine never asked, just stayed there, with him, and for that, in that second, he adored her, for her compassion, her strength, for more than the memories of a late night during the war.

For Satine, not for the memories of Cody and Obi-Wan who tied them together.

She didn’t let him go to the barracks that night and he slept in her bed, a bed even bigger that the one she had on the Coronet, round and with a high head of wood forming the Kryze sigil. He didn’t even know bed so comfortable existed.

The sleep was good, deep, the morning not so much, when he saw the bruises on her hips, her thighs, and realized he had done that, fucked her with his armour still on and bruised her.

“This is nothing,” she insisted after his babbling, horrified excuses. On her fair skin, the bruises seemed as black as the empty void between the stars. The inner thighs were particularly marked and he remembered how hard he had taken her, searching in her body some absolution.

“No, no, Duchesse, Satine, this isn’t… I hurt you!”

“I remember asking for more, for harder, didn’t I?”

He rolled over on the bed, got out of it, still naked, searching for his clothes.

“I won’t be the way you use to punish yourself,” he spat, but her hand hold him back.

“I have some bacta cream in the bathroom,” she said and he recognized it as some sort of peace offering.

He hesitated for a second, searching her gaze, then abandoned his black on the floor. He followed her into the bathroom, examining the bath, more a pool than anything, the walls of precious mosaic. She saw his expression.

“Too pompous?”

“Perhaps a little strange, after the barracks.”

He put the cream on her himself. Every bruise he covered in cream and then bandaged, to stop the cream from soiling her clothes, was an apology.

“Would you still want me in your bed, if I don’t keep my armour?” He asked after, because they had never talked, just fucked violently, and he wasn’t sure if she wanted pleasure, some sort of memories of Obi-Wan by proxy, or simply human contacts. He didn’t even know what he wanted, apart from a moment of reprise.

She touched his cheek and, feeling bold, he kissed her palm. She didn’t answer his question directly, instead she asked another question:

“I have a dinner with some Separatist Senators tonight. There are some parts of the Separtist Space that the Empire haven’t seized yet, they could be good allies. I would be happy if you came with me.”

“Am I some sort of message for them?” He hated politics. Cody had been so much better at it. Once again, the intensity of the loss closed his throat.

On tiptoe, she kissed him and he answered. It was slow, hesitant, and very different from the other kisses they had shared the two times they had come together. They were still totally naked, save for her bandages, and he grew hard, and broke the kiss because he really wasn’t in the mood for the demands of his libido.

“Can’t it be both? I don’t have the luxuries of making decisions only for myself. Everything I do engage Mandalore too. Can’t I want you by my side because I appreciate your company, and also because having the representative of the clones at my side will help?”

He had a small laugh and he asked another question, instead of answering:

“I made the medics swore they wouldn’t test the sonic weapon on my brothers without me. Will you come with me?” And it was perhaps cruel of him to ask it, because she would possibly assist to the death of the three vode, but he wanted, he needed someone to bear that weight with him, and Ahsoka had enough problems trying to find a place in the small Jedi settlement, after leaving the Order.

Satine nodded.

“Then I will come to your Separatist party with you.”

 Rex didn’t know Master Knol Ven'nari. He had never heard of her when the Bothan had arrived on Mandalore, coming in answer to the Duchess’s message on the Holonet. In fact, he had never meet any Bothan before. The races were numerous in the Republic, but less in the GAR, and the few Bothans had worked in counterintelligence service, a part of the army Rex preferred to have as less contact as possible: they were even worse than the politicians.

Ahsoka had come to Rex, when the small Jedi contingent had elected Master Knol Ven'nari as their leader and briefed him, something he appreciated, even if the Jedi would probably have think less nicely about it  with the tension between their two groups.

“She’s quite a legend,” Ahsoka had said, “She came rarely to the Temple, never took a Padawan, but every Initiate knew of her work in the Outer Rims. She’s the Fire Eater, you know.”

“Tell me it doesn’t mean what I think it mean,” Rex had grumbled, “It’s already complicated enough to keep up with Jedi who don’t play with fire!”

Ahsoka’s face had become chagrined.

“I’m not sure she want to work with the vode, you know. She is one of the survivors because she wasn’t with the troops when Order 66 was enacted.”

Rex had nodded, grim. He was sure the surviving Jedi and the few free vode needed to work together, in coordination with Mandalorians, but he couldn’t exactly force the Jedi’s hands. He could even understand their reluctance. Rex’s vode had still a chance to be rescued. For the Jedi…. Perhaps they could still rescue a few others, but at the end….

At the end, the Jedi had been the victims of the genocide and even with brainwashing, it was difficult for the Force Users to see the vode, the same face who had shoot their brethren in the back.

Master Ven'nari and Rex had ignored each other pointedly until the day after he had come back from kidnapping vode for the study of the chips. When he left Satine’s wing of the palace that morning, he had a message in his comm’, inviting him for breakfast, in a small cantina near the Jedi’s barracks.

A neutral ground, smart.

He send a message to the clones’s barracks, because he had imposed a rule that every clone on Mandalore should check up every fourteen hours and he respected the rules he issued for his men.

Master Ven'nari was already there. A second of hesitation. Was he supposed to salute or would it be worse? He was in armour, he couldn’t exactly hope she would miraculously forget who he was. On a side node, he really needed to find clothes that weren’t armour, uniform, or his blacks.

When she turned to him, he bowed, as a Jedi did to another and he saw a nuance of surprise in her eyes. She bowed to him in return and there was a strange moment where they pretended to be busy with the selection of pastries but were in fact studying each other. He had seen her on Satine’s Council, even if always on the other side of the room. She was shorter than him, with a nice chestnut fur and a deep, throaty voice and this close, he was surprised by her scent, animal and musky.

They seated down, her with some sort of infusion and amethyst eggs, whatever that was, and Rex with caff and the only thing he recognized in the food list: spicy sausages.

He hoped he wouldn’t make a fool of himself and the Duchesse at that Separatist party. They probably wouldn’t serve spicy sausages.

On the other side of the small table, the Jedi Master was observing him with piercing brown eyes. Strangely, it made him think of Obi-Wan. Jedi mannerisms transcended species.

It was the Jedi who fired the first volley.

“Captain Rex. Young Ahsoka has told all of us numerous things about you.”

“Did she, Master Ven'nari? Don’t forget that she’s very young. It would be unfair of the Jedi to reproach her our friendship, when it had only become so strong because she was exiled from your Order.”

She smirked, like she could appreciate the hit.

“Nevertheless,” the Bothan started again, “Ahsoka has now found back her people.”

“And no one is more happy for her than myself,” Rex affirmed, even if a possessive part of him protested that the Jedi had let her go and were not worthy to have her back.

“Are you? Or do you fear we will hurt her again?”

The question surprised him. He observed the Jedi Master who endured the close inspection with grace.

“Commander Tano is a good being,” he said finally, “and not only because she always fought valiantly at our side. She’s a good person, compassionate, smart, and caring. I deeply respect her. I killed brothers for her and will do it again if circumstances don’t give me a choice. If you ask me to walk away from her, I will respectfully tell you to fuck off, Master Jedi. Not because I think she can’t be happy with Jedi, but because I wouldn’t trust with…I wouldn’t trust with one of my vode a person trying to separate her from people who love her and want to protect her.”

He hadn’t planned to tell all of that. He had probably shattered every possibilities of Jedi and vode working together. He was so, so bad at it, Cody, Cody should have been there, he would have known…

A chuckle interrupted his self-recriminations. The chuckle slowly became a booming laugh and Master Knol Ven'nari soon was laughing so hard she hold on to the table, to Rex’s infinite surprise.

When she was calmer, she gave him a smile, and oh Stars, the Bothans had really, really sharp teeth.

“Captain, I think we’ll be fine. I ask that clones continue to respect the Jedi barracks as a no go-zone, and we’ll give you the same curtesy. Nevertheless, the Mandalorian troops have offered us the possibility to train with them, to prepare for the invasion who will come. And we’ll be happy if the …you say the vode, right, if the vode came too.”

“Gener-, eh, Sir, we’ll come.”

“Good. And now, you should try my eggs.”

“Sir?”

“Please, just call me Master, or Ven’nari. Kerch Kushi will be in your little Separatist Party. In fact, he’s the leader and his voice is deeply respected. It is really important you impress him. His specie only eat this particular food. Bloody inefficient, if you ask me; a shortage would kill of them, what was evolution thinking? They have a saying that other sentients eating amethyst eggs are people who can be trusted.”

“How do you know about the party?”

“Even if the Jedi Order demonstrated a terrible blindness those last years in mistaking the Sith for a simple power hungry politician, intelligence gathering had always been one of my specie forte and was, sometimes, one of the things I did for the Order. You’re quite the gossip right now. People know you’re invited by the Duchess herself. And that you left her apartment in the morning.”

Rex eyed her plate. He understood it was a peace banner she offered him, in helping him prepare for the Separatist meeting.

And it was terribly important, too: big chunks of Separatist space were still independent from the Empire: if they joined Mandalore and the Council of Neutral systems, their chances against the Empire would be better.

The eggs still looked horrible. Purple and…moving. Food shouldn’t be moving, in Rex’s opinion.

“Is there a polite way to eat that stuff?” He asked. He wouldn’t be defeated by food. Peace was worth the food poisoning.

She gave him her cutlery and coached him until he ate the repulsive thing in a way that would impress the Separatist leader. He was grateful, but still thought she could have refrained from stealing his spicy sausages.

After, a fragile truce between the Jedi leader and himself in place, he went to visit his poor vode in the lab. The three of them were still only repeating their numbers like a mantra and refused to give their names. Rex wasn’t sure if that was because they thought they were prisoners of war, or because they didn’t remember they had once chosen names for themselves.

They were calm, if they didn’t see Jedi or free vode. Then, they went berserks, yelling traitors and trying to escape the cells to harm them.

“Sir, you should leave,” one of the scientists finally insisted, “You’re only making them furious and we prefer to not sedate them.”

“Remember that-”

“We won’t test the weapon without you. We’ll message you, but it isn’t ready right now. The Duchess insisted we do another round of simulations before we test it on the subjects.”

“You should say, on humans,” Rex growled and the other man, a head taller than Rex, took a step back.

The Captain wasn’t in the mood to feel guilty about that.

He spend his day in the clone barracks, reading everything he could about the Separatists he would meet soon. Preparation. Preparation couldn’t give him a head for politics, but it could help, certainly. Also, when he was working, his mind busy, he didn’t think too much about the three prisoners vode calling him traitor, about Obi-Wan’s body probably still in that natural pool on the bottom of that cliff, about Cody’s death, about General Skywalker’s fate he still ignored, about his own men under Vader’s command, or the probable failure of their resistance effort.

After, he cleaned his blaster and his armour, even if he couldn’t go with them to the dinner. He examined his helmet, the Jaig eyes, then went to find his brothers.

“Does one of you has paint?”

When he left for the party, his armour was drying. He had kept the blue marks. It was what had formed him and he didn’t pretend it wasn’t him, but he had highlighted every blue part in gold, for revenge.

He thought he would find the Separatist senators making small talks with the Councillors of Satine, with everybody seeming talking about some simple stuff and in fact having three other meanings in the sentence that he would be the only one not understanding.

Instead, he found them in half circle around a hover chair. Standing next to the chair, Satine’s face was red, frowning, her mouth unhappy. She seemed ready to bite and he was sure she had been yelling at people when he had entered the room. Next to her, her sister had the same expression.

As one, the fifty person in the romm turned into his direction when he entered.

“Eehrr… Is this a bad time?” Rex asked, feeling like a small animal in a speeder’s headlights.

“Captain,” Satine said, reaching out with her hand, advancing a few steps in his direction and he came to her naturally, as if he had been taking his orders from her for a long time. He kissed her hand, as he had seen people do and to his surprise, she put her other hand on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort and familiarity she only had with Korkie and Bo-Katan in public.

“Captain, Voe Atell, of the Separatist Senate, brought here tonight what she called a gift for you, in a demonstration of peaceful intentions. We were having…”

Satine searched for words, something Rex had never seen her do before.

“We were having a discussion about the simple fact that she was in position to make you this gesture and the ethics of her choices.”

In the Duchess’ voice, there was steel, hard, unforgiving and furious. That was a woman who would go to war, a Mandalorian in everything, wearing silk or not. Rex had never found her more attractive but he was beginning to feel suspicious.

Next to the hover chair a green-skinned, horned woman was cringing and Bo-Katan came just behind her, as if she wanted to be sure the other wouldn’t run.

“Come, Captain,” Satine encouraged and she led him by his hand to the hover chair.

“He was a prisoner of Wat Tambor, who disappeared in the Fall of the Republic, and he was then – ”

Satine was still speaking but Rex didn’t understand a word anymore, the sound of blood rushing to his ears covering everything.

Emaciated, bald, covered in cybernetic implants, his eyes haunted, a vod was in the chair. He had a pale smile when he saw Rex’s expression.

“CT-1409 reporting for duty, Captain” he said, his voice a pale drizzle.

“Echo,” Rex whispered and in the silence of the room, it sounded almost like a sob.

 The Empire attacked. It was only a question of when, after all, not of if. Grim faced around the holoprojector, the Duchess’s Council watched the first image of Taris under attack. The first reports arrived only one hour ago and it wasn’t looking good.

“It’s only the beginning. They will pick one by one every member of the Neutral Systems and then end their quest with us,” Satine said, her mouth a rigid line. She was wearing grey that day, from her shoes to the strange thing on her head that was either an avant-gardist tiara or a hand grenade and the only spot of colour was the red paint of her lips. To Rex’s eyes, it looked like blood.

“It’s a good way to break our alliance,” one of the advisers, whose name Rex had already forgotten, answered, “We don’t have enough troops to protect at the same time Mandalore and the 1,500 star systems of the Neutral Systems.”

“We still have to try,” Master Ven’nari intervened, “the former Separatist will never join an Alliance which doesn’t defend his members. The Jedi are ready, your Higness.”

Satine had a pale smile.

“We thank you for that, Master Jedi, but my sister will only lead Mandalorians troops in this for now.”

As everybody began to protest, she raised a hand.

“The courage of the Jedi and the vode isn’t in question. But we still don’t have a functional weapon against the chip. Exposing Jedi to chipped soldiers of the former GAR would be particularly dangerous for the Jedi, who would have to kill to survive, instead of the prisoners than the Mandalorians could perhaps make. And for your men, Captain Rex, it would be cruel to send them to affront their brothers right now, when perhaps in a few days, we’ll have a way to free their minds.”

It was very strange for Rex to stand on a balcony and see others march into battle. As he stand with the rest of the Duchesse’s Council and watched the first Mandalorian troops embark, he felt like reality was distorting itself even more. Then, to add to the strangeness of the day, he was cornered by Ursa Wren, the new Minister of Finance. She was a short woman with black hair and skin the colour of freshly polished brass and she wore armour, like every Mandalorian in the Council apart Satine.

“Sir?” He asked, because the day was strange enough without ex-Death Watch people leading him into dark corners. He understood Satine’s decisions to bring all Mandalore together in those dark times but groups who had tried to murder the Duchess before made him want to reach for his blaster.

“I’m new in this posting, as you knew, Captain.”

“…Congratulations?” Rex offered because he didn’t know what else to say. What did he knew about Finance, frankly?

“And your brothers and you will be one of my first projects. Perhaps not the most urgent tactically speaking, but it should have been done the moment you arrived to ally yourself with Mandalore,” she continued, as if he hadn’t spoken.

“Sir?” Rex was beginning to feel himself ill at ease.

“I understand you’re a busy man, but I suppose you have a second.”

“Not exactly, Sir, we haven’t reformed a new command structure yet.”

“You should do it, then, and send me someone who can speak for all of you.”

“Sir with all respect, but for what exactly?”

“To negotiate your pay.”

“Our – what?”

“There will be back interest, of course, for the money you should have received from the moment you came to Mandalore.”

“But, I…Sir. M’dam. The vode aren’t in the habit-“

“Of getting paid?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“We aren’t the Republic, Captain. You’ll led your brothers to fight for Mandalore against the Empire?”

“Yes, sir, of course.”

“Then you’ll be paid, as every soldier should. Send me you second, Captain, my services are already working on opening all of you bank accounts.”

And she left him there, perhaps without realizing the shock she had given to his system.

Rex sat down on a nearby bench. From there, he could see the ships readying for depart, without him and his brothers because it had been deem cruel to pitch them against their chipped brothers when they had another solution for now. And now they were getting paid.

After a time, he stood up and went in search of Ahsoka. He needed a friend in that moment.

His comm’ biped a location in answer of his question and he went to the medical wing.

Ahsoka was sitting on Echo’s bedside. The clone had refused the bacta tank he needed, because it felt too much like getting stashed again like a tool in a drawer, so the medics were doing it the old ways. Longer, but more easy to handle for Echo. He was snoring like a motor and Ahsoka working on a datapad when Rex entered the room.

He sat next to her and they stayed a moment in silence, comfortable with each other, observing the sleeping man. After a time, she hold out to him her datapad.

“Still no news about Skyguy,” she said and Rex put his arm around her shoulders, quickly scrolling the list of newly confirmed Jedi’s deaths. Most of them he didn’t recognize, but as always, it was long. Most of them listed a death in the first hours of Order 66 but some of them were more recent. Some Jedi were still alive, lost in the galaxy, and he hoped a few of them found their ways to Mandalore. Every hour, Mandalore still broadcasted, in every way possible, its message to offer a safe place for Jedi, or for everyone else fleeing the Empire.

“Skywalker’s too stubborn to die like that. You’ll see, one day a ship leaking fuel and flying with too much missing parts to be capable of it in theory will arrive on Mandalore, and he’ll be in it, to join our merry band of rebels,” Rex affirmed. He couldn’t believe General Skywalker was dead, he couldn’t. Not when they had already lost so much people. The spies of Mandalore had reported than Vader, that mysterious Sith helmeted in black and murder, had the mission to track and kill the surviving Jedi but Rex knew his General. Anakin Skywalker wouldn’t let a Sith defeat him. His Jedi General was probably busy rescuing other Jedi all across the Empire and would soon lead them on Mandalore. If only he contacted them, Rex and Ahsoka could go help him.

They stayed together a long moment, exchanging the latest news. When Ahsoka found so natural that the clones were paid, he realized how deep the usual dehumanizing the clones had suffered on the hands of the Kaminoan and then most of the Republic had ran. Yes, they were getting paid. It was normal. They always should have been payed.

After, he went back to the clones’ barrack. He was the highest ranking officer free of his chip and had naturally assumed command but if they were starting anew, was it right for him to give orders like that? There wasn’t a room big enough in the barracks for the three hundred and twenty nine clones on Mandalore right now, so they gathered outside on a shuttle platform.

Rex had searched on his datapad for voting procedures and he felt giddy. Whatever would happen after, they would have that. Their leader elected. Their choices. He insisted in his speech that no clone was forced to stay in the fight. They weren’t slaves anymore.

“Yeah, but if Mandalore lose against the Empire, we’ll be decommissioned as malfunctioning. I’m fighting. Vive the Duchess! Death to the Emperor” One of his brothers remarked and soon, they were all yelling “Vive the Duchess!!”

Rex was elected as their Captain and Sinker, a former Sergeant of the 104th, was elected as his second. After another long discussion all clones put the Kryze’s sigil on their armour, most of them on their shoulders. Some were only wearing that spot on colours on white amour, other had kept also their former colours, some, like Rex, had kept their former colours and added new as a message. But it felt important to add the Kryze’s sigil.

Vive the Duchess.

The planetary leader they choose to follow, instead of the one enslaving their brothers.

Vive the Duchess.

Rex decided he would show it to her. Satine wasn’t exactly the armour biggest fan but he was sure she would happy to hear about their elections, even if it was probably an amateur one. They hadn’t been alone since that last morning after their night together and he felt perhaps a little daring when he entered the private wing but he wanted to share that joy.

On the third hallway, he found an old trap door opened on the floor and wet traces leaving the service tunnel under the palace. Rex followed the wet traces on the floor. Whatever it was, it shouldn’t be there. And if someone had penetrated that part of the palace, it could only mean one thing.

He started to run, as if a murderous Grievious was behind him. At the same time, he activated his comm.

“Attack on the Duchess. I repeat, attack on the Duchess.”

He found two bodies on the threshold of the apartment, wearing Mandalorian armour in Kryze colours. Satine’s bodyguards. He didn’t even stop to check if they were alive, barrelled into her private rooms. He almost tripped over a body, big reptilian being, covered in blood, probably hurt by the bodyguards, and rushed to the bedroom, from where he could hear the sound of a fight. Satine had succeed in disarming her opponent, a thin human or near human in Mandalorian armour, and the attacker had improvised in putting his hands around her neck.

Rex didn’t dare shoot him so close to the shoulder and he simply charged into the fray.

Rex’s shoulder caught the attacker under the arm and the Captain threw him over his shoulder. The other was fast, trained, and understood Rex would shoot him at the first occasion, so he stayed too close for that. They fought violently, trashing the room. The unknown assailant was good and Rex recognized some of his movements, but the build was too thin for a brother, and he was too small. Rex finally succeed in pining him under him, using his superior build, and he took his helmet down.

“Let me see your fa-“

A surprised yelp escaped him when the face was free. It was his own. Or well, it had been, a few years ago.

“A cadet!” He swore.

“My name is Boba Fett,” the young man yelled, apparently outraged to be mistaken for a common clone.

In his surprise, Rex had loosened up his grip and the younger man used it. He freed himself, stabbed Rex in the joint of the armour on the hip, and started his jetpack, breaking the window and escaping. Swearing, Rex put his hand on the knife protruding between two parts of the armour, when a bip alerted him.

Boba Fett had left a bomb as parting gift.

Satine was already up, her clothes in disarray, blood on her temple. She was the one who guided him. He was still too shocked by Boba’s presence to make the good choice: he would have tried the window and it was way too high.

The moment they were piled up in the bath tub, the bomb exploded. The blast still was a shock but the bath tub was strong enough. It cracked but succeed in protecting them. When Rex lifted his head, the apartments were a ruin and a fire was starting in the bedroom but they were, more or less, intact.

He turned to the woman who had just saved his life, just after he saved her. She was breathing really fast and she was really close, her grip strong on Rex’s hand.

Another inch and Rex kissed her. No like he had done the other times. Not in passion that famous night with Satine, Cody and Obi-Wan. Not in the crazy lust and violence he had shared with her since the fall of the Republic. It was hesitant, a search of comfort. Their mouths slipped against each other, came back, tried again. Satine made a noise than Rex couldn’t have identified for all the blasters in the world against his head. She pushed herself up, threw a leg over his for a better angle. A second of hesitation, then she took his lower lip between hers and tipped his head up with a hand under his chin. He opened his mouth and felt a shock when their tongues touched and just at that instant, a whole squad of Mandalorian armed to the teeth flew into the ruined rooms.  

Later, after Rex was bandaged and Korkie had hugged him just after hugging his aunt, to Rex’s intense surprise, the Duchess was installed in Bo-Katan’s rooms, since the other Kryze’s sister was away leading troops against the Empire.

Rex had difficulties leaving. What if another bounty hunter succeeded? The Empire offered a small fortune for either of the Kryze’s sisters, the faces of the Council of Neutral Systems politics an army. The Captain had chewed out the head of the palace security team, even if it wasn’t his place to do it. The words “better response time when I was two years old” had been yelled.

He was sitting on a couch and composing in his head a message to Sinker to bring two brothers as new bodyguards for the Duchess when the door of the bathroom opened. Satine’s face was bear of make-up, she was only wearing a dressing gown. Bare of any regalia, she had never seemed more human, accessible, but the way she stood still commanded respect, even with the spot of bacta on the side of her head.

“Your Highness”, Rex stood up.

“I really think you should call me Satine when we are alone. Not only you shared my bed, you saved my life,” she gently chided.

“Satine,” he corrected. He lifted a hand in an impulsive moment and before he could stop himself, he touched the side of her head, gently turning it to inspect the bacta bandage.

She pushed her head into his hand and he cupped her neck, marvelling at the golden hair, so soft and silken. Kissing her seemed natural after that. Her lips were soft, fresh. It was slow, very chaste for a long time. She curled her arms around him, bringing him closer. She smelled like soap and she was warm, and alive, alive in a world where almost everybody he knew was dead or missing. In that moment, he didn’t care that their liaison was probably ill-advised and perhaps a way to cling to their dead, in memory of Obi-Wan, Cody and that night more than a year ago.

In that moment, only Satine counted.

They never went to Bo-Katan’s bedroom, because that would have felt like a violation. But, even more practical than her sister, Bo-Katan was royalty, and her couch would have been enough for a squad of clones to sleep comfortably, big enough for the two of them.

They needed that, after that close escape. Something soft like the skin of Satine’s legs, which Rex explored. The two last times had been hard and fast, still dressed for her, still in armour for him. Now, he discovered those legs that seemed without end, miles and miles of pale skin that he kissed and explored, as gentle as he ever had been. And the breasts! How sensitive they were. They were fascinating and Satine made the most delicious noises when he played with them. She was patient, letting him discover, caressing his shoulders, his back. Around them, the palace slept and they could have believed they were the only ones awake on Mandalore. Then finally, he found the wet secret of her sex between her legs. Here too he took his time. The female human body was still an ongoing mystery for him. Three times with Satine, especially with how this three times had gone, a pleasant orgy the first time and violent sex the other two, three times like that didn’t teach a lot of things. The last time, he had taken better attentions to her body, but he was still an apprentice, and ready to learn more.

Curious, he rubbed her wet folds, cataloguing her reactions, a choked moan.

“Am I being a tease?” He asked, rubbing her thighs from his other hand and parting her folds with his fingers.

“A little, but I don’t care,” she whispered.

His fingers explored. The lips of her sex, that little nub that made her mewl every time, the opening of her vagina. Curious, he leaned down and licked. The taste was strange, new, but not strange enough to stop him and he licked that little nub. Satine was panting, her hands crisped on his shoulders.

“I don’t know if I will be good enough to make you come like that,” Rex confessed.

“That’s ok,” Satine said, “take your time. Practice make it perfect.”

“Are all human women bare here? It seems strange since male have some pilosity.”

“No, we have too. And I have, most of the time. I just needed to try something new.”

Rex leaned down again and this time he tried to push a finger into her. He caressed, he licked, he let her nails mark his skin. She never directed him, let him explore her body to his heart content until finally, he found a combination of acts that pushed into orgasm. He wouldn’t have been prouder if he had defeated the Empire all by himself.

She needed a moment to calm, then she pushed him firmly until he was seated against the back of the couch and crawled on his lap. The sensation of his cock filling her up, so wet, so tight, so warm, had Rex bitting his lips to stop himself from coming too soon. She rode him leisurely, slowly, easily, with so many kisses and caress.

He pressed kisses on every part of her skin he could and he vowed, once again, to kill every menace to that woman.

 They tested the sonic weapon on a misty morning. Ashoka had offered to come as moral support but Rex had politely declined. If it had been him, eyes empty and a puppet, he would have wanted the less people possible seeing him like that. He even tried to stop Satine from coming, despite the promise he had extracted of her before to witness the experiment on the three clones prisoners.

Trying to make a Mandalorian change their mind…. Meteors had been known to be more ready to change their course!

Just Satine, Echo and Rex himself, and the scientists themselves, of course, and it was already too many people seeing his brothers like that, foaming at the mouth and trying to break their manacles to brain Rex, yelling that word, Traitor, again and again.

The weapon wasn’t really much what Rex had expected, meaning it wasn’t exactly portable.

“How do you want us to take that thing in battle?” He had asked the chief scientist, when they had been presented with some machinery the size of the room. The transmitter itself was almost as tall as Rex.

“It wasn’t exactly easy, Captain,” the other had frowned, “The Kaminoans had years to perfect their chips and the brain is a fragile organ. If we had more time-”

“But you don’t,” Satine had stopped him, “If you take the time normally needed by such a project, the Emperor will have conquered all the known universe three time before you have a prototype.”

Rex had taken her words like a kick to the ribs.

“You’re really not sure it will work,” he said the scientist, and it wasn’t a question.

The other had passed a hand on his bare skull. He seemed ten years older than when Rex had meet him the first time, only two months before.

“We did more than our best,” the man responded to Rex, “Don’t think we didn’t work so hard because they’re clones than we would have for, eh natural born I suppose would be the word. This thing, the chip, is a horror which should have never left the pages of a horror novel. All the neuro-scientists of Mandalore have worked on nothing else for the last two months, around the clock.”

“Do it. No need to prolong it. Just test it.” Rex said, and he observed how the man looked at Satine, searching for confirmation.

“The Captain’s words are the only one you should listen, when it comes to his brothers,” and the scientist nodded and scrambled behind a consol.

It wasn’t an impressive show light, like Rex had somehow expected. He didn’t even hear anything. He saw some lights on the side of the machinery, but it was simply an indicator.

The first brother went down hard, convulsing like he had touched a live wire.

“Stop, stop!!!” Rex yelled, struggling with the lock of the cell, trying to reach his brother. He didn’t even know his name, he hadn’t meet the other before Order 66, and the only thing the other man had given them since he was prisoner was his matricule, but in that second, that man was every lost brother, he was Cody, he was Fives, he was Hardcase, he was every brother still in the Empire’s clutch, he was every brother who had died under the Republic’s banner, he was even every cadet of Kamino who Rex would probably never see, never rescue.

“Don’t enter when it’s-”Someone shrieked, but it was too late, Rex was in the cell, reaching for the other, and then he knew no more.

He came back in the infirmary, a Star Destroyer firing all batteries behind his eyes, and Ashoka sleeping in a chair next to his bed.

“What?” He croaked and she jumped on her feet, her sleep light.

“How are you feeling?”, She said, leaning down on him.

“What the kriff happened?” He tried to sit down but his body refused even that simple order.

“You went into the weapon’ emission.” Ahsoka said, her montral white almost grey with retrospective terror, and for a second, Rex didn’t understand.

Weapon? What weapon? Then it all came rushing back. The chips, the experiment.

“The vod?” And he saw the answer on his friend’s face. She took his hand and Rex let that small part of comfort, even if he wasn’t sure he deserved it.

“They thought we would lose you too. What were you thinking…”

“I was thinking my brother needed help.”

“All your brothers need help. That’s why they’re trying to do in the labs!”

“Well, it isn’t very effective!”

“It’s still the only idea we have!”

Rex closed his eyes.

“Couldn’t you…I can’t open my eyes without wanting to hurl.”

Her hand touched the side of his head and he let out a careful breath as pain receded. He hadn’t realized how much of pain he was until it stopped.

“Eh,” he said, “and with the Force-“

“Don’t you think we thought about it? Every Jedi on Mandalore went to meditate in the labs.”

“Oh, I-“

“No, we didn’t tell you. It’s still complicated to see a vod for most of them. But we had to try.”

“And?”

“You would be the first to know. But we can’t even feel the chips. It’s like there is nothing here.”

Rex stayed silent a long time then he started again:

“They can’t have understood. The Jedi.”

“When they were killed, you mean? No, they can’t have sensed the chip coming online.”

Rex turned to see the window. It was night outside.

“Have I been unconscious more than a day?”

“Just teen hours. They say they will have another protocol to try in three days. And the Duchess, she asked to comm her when you-”

“No. Don’t tell her I’m awake. Not now.”

He patted her and hand closed his eyes, pretending he was trying for sleep; and Ahsoka had the compassion to pretend she didn’t know what he was doing. Somewhere between thinking about that brother whose name he would never know and thinking about Obi-Wan’s last thought, when Cody had gunned him down, Rex’s lies become a truth and sleep took him.

    The second brother used for testing died too, but not as quickly as the first.

There were sixty wonderful seconds of lucidity before he took his last breath, and Rex had the time to learn his name, a last whisper, a last act of defiance against the Empire. “I am Harpoon,” the poor guy choked out, shaking against Rex and Rex felt those words piercing him like a lightsaber in the heart.

The chief scientist himself was crying, not full sobs but almost there. All around the round, the neuroscientists had misty eyes, as they try to pretend they didn’t watch Harpoon die in Rex’s arms.

Rex refused to feel a kinship for the man and his team, no matters how the fate of the entire galaxy, and the fate of all his brothers, hinge on those people works. He couldn’t, even if he was the one who had delivered Harpoon to them like a sacrificial lamb.

“Use the data,” Rex spat to him, “Go to work. That kriffin thing must work…”

“Sir…”

“Go the kriff to work! If you fail ….Go the kriff to work!”

Because if they failed, the world would slowly suffocate under the Emperor’s grip, and the blood of those three brothers on Rex’s hands would have been in vain.

They buried him at dusk, a funeral so different that was usual for a vod. To rest in the earth, that was something for natural born, something for rich people, in Rex and his brothers’ minds, but Satine had offered a spot in the palace necropolis, and poor Harpoon would march away between kings and queens and other Mandalore princes and so other many titles that Rex couldn’t even read some of the tombstones.

“His life was worth as much as any of them,” Ahsoka had said, her smaller hand holding one of his in a show of support and it was an effort not to dig his fingernails in her flesh, between the grief and the anger and the ache of lose. It was a brother’s death, amongst thousands and thousands of brothers’ deaths, but Rex felt like that one was particularly unfair.

Sixty seconds of freedom.

That night, he searched for Satine.

Not for sex, nothing was more far away from his mind that sex, but he wanted…He didn’t know.

Companionship.

A presence.

Someone who had known Cody and who wasn’t the vode, because Rex was leading them and would have felt like a terrible officer if he had made them carry his grief and his doubts, on top of their own, and someone who wasn’t Ahsoka, whose family had been gunned down by Harpoon and his brothers, no matters how unintentionally.

He found her crying and he hesitated. Would it be intrusive to go to her? Whatever had pushed such a strong woman to tears, was Rex the person to help, burdened as he was by his own grief?

At the end, his feet choose for him. He sat down next to her and took her hand and she pushed her face against his shoulder. It wasn’t like women crying in holodramas. It was messy and noisy and her face was red and wet and Rex wished to kill those responsible for those tears. Something that probably would have horrified Satine, but it still would have feel good, in Rex’s opinion, to put their heads; whoever they were, at her feet.

He put one of his arms around her and made some calming noises, or what he imagined were calming noises. He was so out of his comfort zone. The only person he had ever regularly comforted was Cody every time Obi-Wan did something stupid, or when the numbers of lost vod was higher than usual; and alcohol had been their usual motto in those circumstances. He felt under armed for the mission of helping her in her pain, but he would never have left her alone, unless she asked.

“Bail Organa is dead,” she told him later, when she had cried every tear in her body.

“I met him once,” Rex said, “tall guy, Senator, was stubborn as hell?”

“Yes. Yes, that was him. He was my friend. For years. I was a guest to his wedding, I….He was my friend.”

“What happened?” Rex asked slowly. It was a strange discovery that offering his shoulder to her pain made his own easier to bear. The grief which had clouded his brain for weeks hadn’t disappeared; and Harpoon was still in his mind, but trying to help her helped him….

“He tried to come to Mandalore and his ship was blasted down when they tried to pass the blockade between the Core and the Council of Neutral Systems.”

“What…but…” Rex spluttered. He had meet Organa on Christophis, and it was a smart man, not a man who would ran away to such a dangerous path without reason, when he had been safe on Coruscant.

“It doesn’t make sense. Why did he do such a thing?”

The usual calm mask of politics was already covering her face and Rex couldn’t stop himself, took her hand, as he tried to stop that. He wanted Satine as she was when they were alone sometimes, when it was late and she was tired, he hoped for the woman who had cried in his arms. Her hand turned in his, their fingers entangling themselves.  

“He send a message,” she continued, “before leaving Coruscant. To warn me of his arrival. He said….he said he had an important piece of information.”

“What piece?”

“That’s the problem, Rex, I don’t know. Whatever it was, it was something so important, so game changing that Bail wouldn’t let a message carry it. And now, I fear that secret is gone with him.”

   Third time apparently was the charm, like in old fairytales.

“My name is Droid-Breaker,” his brother said, once he had stopped puking after the chip had died inside his skull and Rex had taken him into his arms, like Droid-Breaker was Cody reborn. The poor guy looked sea sick for a few days, but every test possible under the sun was inflicted on him by the medics, and also a few which were invented for the occasion, and it was a complete success, minus the vomiting.

Droid-Breaker was free, he would stay free. He described to Rex the moment the chip had started working, stripping him of his humanity, and how it had seemed natural at the time. How there were no questioning orders, not even the possibilities of question. How even killing the Padawans they were in charge of forming to working with clones, since their Masters were dead, had been normal.

After, Rex had spent the night in Satine’s arms. No sex, just the comforting warmth of another human being and a tender voice in his ear, repeating how much human they were. How Mandalore wouldn’t find peace until every clone brother was rescued, until every Kaminoan was brought to justice.

It was, of course, easier to say than to do.

The process for freeing clones’ minds worked, but the machine was enormous, and fragile, and difficult to operate. They needed three days just to put it apart, then back, into a ship, and there were, so, so many rules about what the ship could and couldn’t do, to not disturb the fragile engine.

Like go into hyperspace more than a fleeting moment.

“The specialist are working around the clock to find a better way. To miniaturize it, or to reduce the size even a little bit, and to make it less complicated, quicker, or whatever they can. Something to use more easily on a battlefield,” Satine was telling her sister via holo. Bo-Katan’s dark circles under her eyes were particularly unflattering in the transmission’s colours, but despite the exhaustion, she still seemed ready to rear apart everybody who suggested she could need help leading the troops. And from the reports Rex had read, she was good, very good at it.

The red head was doing her usual evening report to her sister and the Council, and every word from Satine about the chip and its solution were making her frown a little harder.

Satine was continuing: “But there are no certitude it would work. It’s already miraculous they found something in only a few months.”

“It would be too late, even if it was week and not months,” Bo-Katan admitted, “Send the ship and your enormous engine, or Taris will fall in days.”

“I’m going,” Rex decided, totally forgetting in a moment than in front of the Council, he could have put it perhaps a little less like an order, and more like a request to the Duchess, but still, Satine nodded, and gave to the vod all they wanted for their trip to Taris. The Jedi contingent even proposed help, which Rex refused, phrasing it diplomatically enough. Some day, he was sure they would have to work together, but if the machine didn’t work on a big scale enough, and they all died, he preferred to know the Jedi on Mandalore, as a last rampart.

Not that it would be enough against the entire Empire’s might.

Their survival was quite dependent on the quality of Mandalore neurologist work. There was not even the silver of a chance, if they couldn’t turn some of the vod back into human, and not puppets doing Palpatine’s bindings.

Before going, he hugged Ahsoka on last time, made her swore she would protect Echo, then made Echo swear to protect Ahsoka, the best way to be sure one of the two wouldn’t try to sneak on the ship.

He didn’t have private farewell with Satine, there was no time. When he was leaving the Council, he saw her hesitate, something she rarely did in public, then she took of one of the fresh lilies adorning her crown, and offered it to him, despite their audience.

Rex kept it into one of his belt pouches, even when it was dried, during what would be known in galactic history as the great Taris’ siege, an episode which would be studied for centuries, and would offer Rex a place in the list of great generals of the Republic.

Sometimes, during sleepless nights only rhythmed by the noises of heavy artillery, he carefully took it out and kept it on his open hand, careful, so careful of the dried flower. He wasn’t sure why.

It was so useless in a war, a flower.

It was like a promises than not all there was to know of the galaxy, of life, was war.

For weeks, him and Bo-Katan, the clones and the Mandalorian, pushed back against the Empire, using the machine, which had been nicknamed the Anti-Kamino by the vod, to break attacks, stealing clones from the Empire’s ranks when they arrived close enough from their position, mounting their own attacks to extract whole squads, who were then either going back to Mandalore to reinforce its defence, or put to work under Rex. No one of them took the choice, given to all of them, to sit this war out, to go into the Unknown regions, far away.

Rex had never been prouder.

Slowly, they started to push back. The Empire had understood something strange was happening with the clones send against the Mandalore’s troops, and they were clearly experimenting with the range of Rex’s countermeasures.

The fight took to the sky, to space. Across all the Neutral territories, the Empire and the troops under Rex and Bo-Katan’s commands played a strange game of cat and mouse.

They could never pin down long enough the Empire troops in a sector to free all the clones, and the Empire could never do enough damages to defeat them definitely before the Anti-Kamino came online.

After two years, they had arrived to a strange stand-off, troops watching troops across a line, and nobody putting a toe across it. What had once been the Galactic Republic was now halved, one part still in the hands of Palpatine, and the other, which had been nicknamed the Surviving Republic, in the hands of a hastily elected Senate, sieging on Mandalore. Satine, after a terrible row with her sister via holo communication than half the troops had did their best to pretend they hadn’t heard, had renounced her throne…and promptly be elected Mandalore Senator, because Mandalorians were contrary beings. They had tried to assassinate her a few times, and now that she was letting power go, all of them wanted her to exercise it. Her people had nicknamed her the Last Duchess, because they didn’t want her strip of her title, and because, well…she would be the last. Whoever her heir was, her nephew, children who would perhaps come one day, they would inherit the Kryze estate, but no throne, no title.

“You should go back to Mandalore,” Bo-Katan said to Rex one morning after the morning debrief.

“We aren’t making progress, they aren’t making progress. Something new needs to be done, but I have no idea what. Go see my sister. If the war isn’t the solution, perhaps she will find something.”

And for the first time in two years, after countless late nights conversations via holo, where Rex and Satine had talked about everything, from the war to their most secret dreams, where they had talked and talked and talked and talked, where they had confided to each other things they had never told a soul before, not even Cody, or Obi-Wan or Bo-Katan, where they had talked about everything but what they were or they could be to each other, Rex and Satine saw each other in real life, on a land pad in front of the Palace, which had become the Surviving Republic Senate.

And Satine threw herself into his arms, in the less thought-out instinct of a life always politically examined before every move.

And Rex kissed her, and it was like every promises untold by that dried flower had been kept.

They were married only two hours after, no pump, no fanfare. Just Ahsoka and Echo and an officer of the law, and Bo-Katan via holo, pretending she wasn’t crying, and Rex, captain, clone, slave, freedom fighter, General of the Army of the Surviving Republic, became Duke Consort of the Last Duchess of Mandalore.

  Nothing passed the frontier.

Nothing.

On either side, ships armed to the teeth waited, watchful, and dangerous guard dogs.

On his side, Palpatine schemed and raged for the part of the galaxy which had escaped him. His plans were supposed to be perfect. He was supposed to have everything, everyone, every life in his grasp, and the Chosen One as his attack Sith. Instead, half of what had been the Republic was still resisting, led by that woman, and by clones, his own flesh weapons! And the Chosen One! Broken and burnt by that thrice-damned Kenobi. Oh, Darth Vader was still terrifying, even more, but a broken tool was still broken even repurposed, and he would have been more useful beautiful, clearly Anakin Skywalker. He would have sold better the Jedi’s betrayal, when now most people saw them as martyrs.

And the chip!

What a failure….Half the Kaminoan scientists had had their neck broken by Vader, but nothing seemed to protect the clones’s chips from that Mandalore-made machine, whatever metal, holo-plastic, or whatever idea they had, was tested to shield their helmet.

Palpatine raged and planned, and on the other side of the frontier, Satine raged against the impossibility to see fall the man who had burnt half the world down, and indirectly killed so many, and her dear Ben, the Mandalorian temper only cooled off superficially by her silks and her pacifism. She raged and she planned, and her Senator’s colleagues could only be swept off by her convictions, by the fire in her voice.

But still, nothing passed the frontier.

“It’s definitely a Rhodian stand-off,” Bo-Katan had said one day sadly to Rex, and she had been surprised realizing he didn’t know the term.

“It’s when a goddam confrontation has no issues. The Empire can’t try to destroy us, we would steal their clones-“

“-not stealing, Bo-Katan, we aren’t objects.”

“Sorry, we would liberate the clones, but we don’t have the fire power to destroy them either. I’m surprised you don’t know the term, with all your Kamino war training.”

“We were supposed to die if necessary, if you listen to our training. Our destruction was never a problem, so, no Rhodian stand-off, just suicide missions.”

“…I really hope there are one or two Kaminoans alive when, and I say when, we take Kamino. I want to wreck their long-necks myself.”

“Well, get in line.”

And time passed. Mandalore and its Surviving Republic stopped playing the message asking for people to join them, because every ship crossing the line was destroyed and its passengers lost. It has been the first serious quarrel between Satine and Rex. Rex, thinking of all his brothers trapped on the other side, hoping that one day their chip would stop working, wanted to continue broadcasting, thinking his brothers ferocious enough to find a way to cross the frontier. Satine took every ship trying to cross and destroyed as a shard thrust into her heart. At the end, she prevailed, and they slept separate for two weeks until Echo finally had enough and pleaded Rex’s case with Satine, and Satine’s with Rex.

Echo had thrived up, once he had left his medical bed. He could have let the horrors of what had happened weigh on him, but instead he seemed ready to live for all the vod who couldn’t.

Instead of the first message, conceived in the first days of Rex’s presence of Mandalore after the fall of the Republic, they played messages of hope, for those on the other side of the line. One day, the Empire found the way to block every communication, and their side stopped learning what was happening in the Empire.

And time passed. Rex hadn’t before experienced time outside of war and was surprised how this long waiting war could leave place for long stretches of life.

Mandalore and its allies prepared for the final confrontation which would, fatally, happen one day. They conceived and built ships made to house specifically Anti-Kamino machines, which could take the only way to free the vode through hyperspace for more than micro-jump, the only way. They trained an army from every planet, every space station, every colonies. All united, the vod and the Mandalorian acting as instructors.

Everybody understood that the day the Empire would come, it would be all or nothing. They understood that on the other side of the frontier, the same preparation was happening. Armies amassing. Weapons built. Research on the chip, trying to counteract the Anti-Kamino.

But during all of that, life happened.

Korkie grew up and took his place as the Kryze’s heir. He wasn’t interested in politics, told every time his aunt he would never try to be elected as Mandalore Senator, which despair her, but he was making Rex and Bo-Katan proud in his efforts for the coalition. He met a young woman of Taris and they had a beautiful, and quite accidental, boy, and no plan to marry, which made Satine go pale in the name of protocol.

Life happened.

Ahsoka was made a Knight, not that she needed it in Rex’s opinion, she was the best of the whole Jedi contingent. She was taking long diplomatic missions all across the Surviving Republic, like all Jedi, coming back to the roots of their Order. Helping that mismatch of cultures that was the new Republic found a unity, without renouncing their individuality. She was a ferocious warrior when time called for it, but seeing her helping people reach compromise, promoting peace in their little corner of the galaxy, Rex remembered that Jedi should never had been Generals. It had been the first step of the end, for everyone. Seeing her hold the floor in public meeting, she was much more Obi-Wan’s Padawan in those moment than poor General Skywalker’s, whose fate they had never known. And he saw Satine in her, too, her influence on the young Tortuga, and Padme Amidala’s whose death had been confirmed long before the balck-out of communications.

Life happened and time passed, and Rex and Satine’s marriage, not exactly destined to succeed in most people opinion, only grew stronger, not a simple link to the people they had loved and lost together, but a love standing itself, without the crutch of the past.

Life happened and Echo married one of Satine’s advisor. Echo cried during the wedding. They had adopted five war orphans, and had a little girl, named Fives. Rex was sure it was asking for her to be a rule-breaker, but if she had even a tenth of their dead brother’s tenacity, he was sure she would grow up glorious.

Life happened and Droid-Breaker, the first clone freed because of the Anti-Kamino, was killed in a stupid speeder accident. The funeral broke Rex’s heart and he was surprised to find in him new well of griefs, when he thought everything had been used.

Life happened and Rex could say his sister in law was one of his best friends, Korkie was the son Satine and him had decided to not try to conceive, and his surviving vod were happy, and Ahsoka was thriving.

Life happened and the Mandalore scientists finally cracked down the secrets of the accelerating aging, giving Rex and the vod numerous years more.

Life happened and ruling a planet was more work than Rex would have ever thought, and Satine and him were so, so busy.

Days could happen without Rex thinking of Obi-Wan and Cody, to busy helping prepare the Surviving Republic for the coming attack; too busy helping his wife govern Mandalore, too busy with his surviving vod.

It saddened him.

It made him feel guilty.

But he had married a woman who had lost almost her entire family to murder, and Satine understood grief, and how it mutated with time, to give people a chance to live, and she helped the best she could.

Life happened and Rex and Satine let go a little of their pain, and built an army, and a life together.

Then, it happened.

Ten years after the fall of the Republic, seven years after their wedding, refugee started to cross the border, bringing with them the news of the Emperor’s ultimate demise.

Vader had killed him.

Nobody was very clear about the why and the what and the how. Some told Vader had done it to seize the throne. Some told he had done it to protect Jedi children. Some told he had done it for so many reasons, that there was only one way to know.

The ships of the Surviving Republic crossed the frontier and entered an Empire in chaos.

And Rex and Ahsoka were on them.

     “Talk to me, my love,” Satine asked and Rex had a pale smile, his eyes fixed on the small blue silhouette of his wife. The holotransmission didn’t do justice to the light in her eyes.

“You listened to my report, the same as the rest of the Senate.”

“I listened to our best general’s report. I want my dear husband to discharge a part of his pain on my shoulders.”

The smile of Rex became a little more real, then turned sour.

“This is horrible, cyare. People squeezed of their last credits, Moffs a little less than the most violent warlords, democracy’s corpse on the floor in every system. To put that into shape, even in a shape like it was in the decaying last times of the Galactic Republic, it will be years. I thought our people had difficult years, preparing for war like we did, but this was nothing to what I saw here…And the people! A lot of them are no more than wolves, ready to sell their neighbours for the smallest advantage.”

“Ten years of tyranny can’t change the sentient nature like that. I refuse to believe people’s nature is evil.”

“Ahsoka said…well, she said a lot of Jedi aphorisms, but I think she meant that Sidious’s presence warped people in this corner of the galaxy.”

“If this that, the good news are that they will get better.”

“And we will help, won’t we?”

“Well, we spend ten years building strength, time to put it in use. We will repurpose the troops and I’m pretty sure our scientists can find a way to use packs of energy of canon for a better purpose.”

Rex had a gesture like he wanted to touch the small silhouette, even if he knew Satine wasn’t there.

“You should go to sleep,” she said tenderly, “Coruscant will be the biggest trial for your expedition.”

“But the answer to a lot of questions.”

“That, too.”

They stayed in silence a long moment, uncomfortable together for the first time in years.

“I could-“ Rex started.

“You could-“ Satine started at the same time.

An awkward laugh, shared. Rex felt his heart squeeze painfully. He hated to be far away from her. Those three months since they had passed the frontier had been the longest they had been separated since their wedding.

“I will check what happened to them,” Rex said finally, “if the Empire has records. To be sure the reports were true.”

“And you’ll bring their remains home if possible,” Satine completed.

“Of course, I will.”

No more words where needed. There were only two people who could be those They.

Cody and Obi-Wan. Lost love. Bloodied flowers of their memories.

Other, of course, were shards in their hearts. General Skywalker, for example, whose fate Rex would check in third, and Ahsoka probably in first. A lot of brothers, of Jedi.

Rex had already put his greedy hands, his grateful hands, on Kix and Bly, who had been in one of the units trying to resist to the progression of the Surviving Republic Forces in the mess of the decaying Empire.

Those two had been promptly dechipped and even Bly’s tears once he had remembered his General couldn’t stop Rex’s joy to have brought back a few more vod’s home, even if they didn’t know yet the way Mandalore could be home.

Ahsoka had personally rescued a good chunk of other clones, but those two were the only ones Rex had known personally before Order 66. Ahoska had also killed two Inquisitors in their third battle, asked for ten hours on a lost moon and burnt their bodies. Rex hadn’t asked questions, yet, because she needed to be at the top of her game, but he would have sworn her reactions meant she had knew the two of them, or only one, before. Once she would be home, she could be sure he would corner her about that.

Jedi.

No matters the generation, they really needed help to admit their grief.

He knew the other expeditions, led by Master Ven'nari for the second ones, and by a bunch of officers formed by Rex and Bo-Katan for the others, had also encountered resistance, but minimal. The Empire was disintegrating too fast, it was every Moff for himself, and Rex was sure their expedition wouldn’t ever face real danger. The carrion feeders were too busy stuffing themselves.

With years, Rex understood how love was more than what he had had with Cody and Obi-Wan. It was love, really, but it never had the time to blossom, like what he shared with Satine. To build itself, months after months, years after years, trials fought together after trials fought together, grief shared and long nights of pleasure.

The Empire had taken the possibilities of growing like that from Cody and Obi-Wan, a simple line in the long, long, long list of its crimes. And now Rex hoped for closure, in bringing if possible remains on Mandalore. They already had a shared stele in Mandalore necropolis, where Ahsoka, Satine and himself went regularly. It was between the one they had put for Padme Amidala and Anakin and their dead before birth child, and between the one of Fives, those two empty too.

Soon, perhaps, bones could sleep here.

When they left hyperspace in front of Coruscant, all defences were down, and all channels sending a message which could be summed by “Please don’t shot.”

Certainly not redacted by a brother.

“I am Senator Mon Mothma,” a regal-looking woman with hair as red as a setting sun, had said in answer to their communication, “I have been designed by the remains of the Senate to handle the transition, until elections can be prepared.”

“Seems too easy”, murmured one of the officers in Rex’s ears, and Rex was totally of the same opinion. At his right, he could feel the tension in Ahsoka. They had seen so much horrors in their long crawl across the former Empire to believe things could be as simple on Coruscant.

“I’m very happy for you,” Rex said, “But, Madam, we’ll still check. Starting with the security bands of the throne room on the last day of the Empire.”

“They will wait for you in the former Palace, General”, the Senator answered, “and all explanations you could feel necessary.”

“Not vague at all…”

“Some things, you have to see to believe. I awaits you in the Senate rotund tomorrow. Something tell me you would need more time than that, but we need to move swiftly, if we want to reduce the blood shed to a minimum in other parts of the Republic.”

“Was that a menace?” Rex asked, once the communication was cut, “I can never tell, with politicians.”

At the same instant, the terminal beeped with the coordinate of Palpatine’s palace and Rex swore.

“That son of a bitch…The Temple.”

Ahsoka’s fangs seemed even sharper than usual in her anger.

“I almost regret he’s already dead,” she growled, and it was so different than her usual Jedi calm than Rex insisted for a long hug before embarking into a shuttle, despite her protests. Finding answers about dead friends and dead enemies was good, but not at the disadvantage of alive friends. He didn’t let her go until he felt her body posture relaxing a little, despite her protests than she was an adult, now.

Rex left three shuttles full of Mandalorian armed to the teeth right next to their ones, right in front of the former Palace, former Temple, whatever it should be called. No brothers, they had all stayed in orbit. Despite the progress of the Anti-Kamino, Rex didn’t want to take the risks of brothers having to fight brothers.

“Stay there,” he said to them, “Knight Tano and I will do a first reconnaissance.”

The men didn’t even protest. They had long renounced to force their General to stay safe. Rex was sure he was responsible for half the grey hairs in his second’s fur, and Ahsoka for the rest of them!

They entered the Temple side by side, the Jedi and the vode, the Knight and the Mandalorian General, Rex and Ahsoka, coming back from their long exile to mourn their dead, half prodigal children coming home, half refugee. It was fitting, in a way. They had fled alone, at the end of their world, started together on their new life. Whatever closure they would found there, they would do together, two vod in a way different but no less precious than the link shared with the other clones of Jango Fett.

The Temple was deserted.

“Feel something?” He asked Ahoska and her gaze had this vacant flavour meaning she was checking on things he couldn’t see.

“Death,” she said, then she frowned, hesitated, and added “And renewal. This way, come.”

He followed.

The structure was the same as it had been during the time of the Order but the decoration was Palpatine in all his glory: creepy, full of lore of the old Sith and with way, way too much red.

“If the Order wants to come back to Coruscant, it would perhaps be more hygienic to burn the whole thing down and starts afresh,” Rex remarked at the third dismemberment tapestries. “Do dead Sith release evil germs or something?”

Ahsoka didn’t answer. Her steps were firm, her path unwavering. The Knight leading, Rex following, they went further. Everybody had deserted the Palace, once the Emperor dead, and the tactician part in Rex’s brain hoped it meant there would be no utter idiot ready to burn the world to maintain the crumbling Empire. With the troops amassed to fight Palpatine, they would fight if necessary, but a peaceful transition would be such a fresh balm on the wounds of the people, already decimated by the Clones War and then the dictatorial reign…

Rex’s heart would have beaten twice the usual rhythm if he hadn’t long ago learnt to master the rush of adrenaline. It was not only the possibilities of danger, perhaps still lurking in the hallways, since they didn’t know the number of Inquisitors who had been formed. It was memories. He could almost see Obi-Wan just out or reach at a corner, he could feel under his lips the caress of facial hair, and smell that damn after shave Cody had started to put on, the Force only knew why.

In what had been the throne room, and long before the Room of the Thousand Fountains, two silhouettes were waiting for them, grey and white, one of them using the other as a crutch and Rex needed a minute to be sure his eyes were correctly working.

He only started to believe, really believe, when Ahsoka threw herself in their arms, with so much strength they ended on the floor in a pile.

There would be tears, later. Swearing, so, so much swearing, because despite all the progress Rex had made to handle emotions in a positive ways since his wedding, when he had decided Satine couldn’t do all the emotional work in their relationship, he would have to resort to anger to handle such a revelation. Ten years, and not a word. And lost in his feelings, he wouldn’t care than for almost seven of those years, communication had been impossible between them and the Empire.

Satine, Satine herself would have to take him by the hand one day, to guide him to the apartments of the Mandalore Palace which Cody and Obi-Wan shared with the twin they were raising. Beautiful, wonderful twins, the reasons Vader had killed the Emperor and succumbed to his wounds, to stop him to pit them, one against the other, because Palpatine only needed one.

Obi-Wan would need to tell him the tale of the life of their little family, in the farthest island of Alderaan, a lot of time, before the reality of their survival would really touch Rex.

Cody would need to tell him the tale of that last fight, Vader against the Emperor, Obi-Wan and Cody himself crushed on the floor by the power of the Dark Side, unable to rescue the twins. He would need to tell him again and again the terrible revelation of the identity of Vader for Rex to admit what had become of his General.

Satine would need to tell him, again and again, that the love he still found in his heart for them wasn’t a betrayal of their vows, and that she could share him, if he could share her.

And Rex would need to tell the tale of his life, of how he had become the last Duke Consort of Mandalore, for the two other men to learn him.

All those conversations, all those moments where the four of them believed it was too late, their fate couldn’t be intertwined again, all the work needed to learn each other again. All of that would come later.

For in that moment, Rex scrambled to help Ahsoka, Cody and Obi-Wan of the floor, crying in his helmet like he never had, scrambling for his communicator on his belt at the same time, because Satine needed to know, right now, Satine needed to share that joy.

There would be much work, for the work of Jedi, Duchesse and vod is never really done.

But there, there, all of them crying at the same time, Ahsoka and the three men in pile on the floor, Satine’s fuzzy in image, crying and already yelling orders for a ship at someone outside of the communicator image….. That moment repaid everything.

[aniaintok]

elysethrillems replied to your post “elysethrillems replied to your post “elysethrillems replied to your...”

I screamed when you mentioned the sword and open hand for magic that is BRILLIANT!! AAAAAA. screw the game locked weapons were coming up with our OWN STUFF. I now just really like the idea of Obi mastering multiple fighting styles as to not rely on magic in battles and the potential of giving himself away as a mage. He can use anything that’s laying around. And now I’m thinking about how the rest of the crew finds out Obi can use magic?? Shit. Do they all find out when Ani finds out? I think Ani might feel (more) betrayed if others know before he does. But also I can see Obi opening up to others about it slowly depending on their stance on things. It’s difficult to think of when the game itself doesn’t have that factored in of actually trying to blend in as a mage. But I’m thinking that Cody would know since they traveled to Kirkwall together from fleeing the blight and he would’ve seen Obi fight with magic then. Not sure who would follow after that      But yes the found family feels I would die for I love that trope and I never tire of it. A lot of “I can make fun of you but if that random guy at the bar says anything about you I will kick his teeth in” kind of protectiveness among everyone in varying degrees. I really do like the idea of Ani and Obi just lightheartedly complaining about Ashoka and Quinlan respectively, like they just click back in to conversation so naturally because they’ve /missed this/ however long they’ve been on “break”          Oooh imagine tho that conversation of Ani “complaining” about all the food Ashoka leaves him and it transitions to somehow about Ani asking Obi, or Obi asking, to come over and help get rid of the food. Lowkey a date ��. But just a lot of reconnection and apologies while they eat and drink expensive wine Danarius left in that mansion in front of the fireplace. Things are GOOD. Not 100% immediately but a big start          Also in my head 100% I live in this au before anything happens to Jinn because I like happiness just as much. I love the idea of Jinn talking to the crew so much more than Leandra does. Him staying to mentor Obi more and give his advice to his friends. To just be happy ��     I love summoning Korkie in game all the time I love the interactions with him at home it’s so cute. Not sure if the pups name will be Korkie for the story but still seeing the companions interact with him is so CUTE. Everyone melts for him. Even Anders the cat man. Speaking of Anders like we don’t have all the characters filled in to be SW ones but tbh? It feels fine even without that. I know some story is essential to it but rn I think it’s all good                                                                    

(very sorry if i’m answering this out of order, i got a bit ahead of myself LMAO)

I JUST THINK THAT WOULD BE REALLY NEAT!!! obi-wan can’t be tamed by the games weapon restrictions, he’s picking up everything and anything and no one can stop him, damn it!!

that IS a really interesting question tho, about when the big ~reveal~ would be hmmm. in da2 canon it’s pretty vague for the most part?? so i think maybe its like, all the companions live by the motto of just “keep your head down, mind your business” and it’s like YEAH that staff that obi-wan carries is a little sus, but i’ve never PERSONALLY SEEN him use magic so he’s OBVIOUSLY NOT A MAGE,,,, like i can see quinlan 100% pulling that card, just fully looking the other way and being dramatically ignorant about all the things that stick out as “mage-like”, especially after meeting qui-gon as well. and i could definitely see that being a thing, after anakin finds out, he wonders who else knows and if everyone else is just fine with it, or if they were blind too, and i can picture ahsoka and him sitting together while she rambles on about some gossip she heard in the tavern and anakin just abruptly cuts her off and asks her if she knew. And ahsoka weighs the question, thinks about what it means to anakin but also what the secret means to obi-wan, and she just asks, “does it change anything?”

and anakin really, honestly, doesn’t know, because it should, he should be angry and frustrated and hurt, and he is - he hates that obi-wan lied to him, that he let the lie go on for so long, he thinks about magic and all he feels is pain and hate and anger, but it’s still obi-wan. and no matter what, anakin still thinks of him with respect, admiration, and maybe if he looked harder he’d see the beginnings of love and he doesn’t want things to change but they already have and he doesn’t know what to do, now.

but yesssss, anakin complains about all the food and obi-wan is just, “you poor thing, so alone in that big mansion with no one to feed,” obviously teasing, and anakin threatens to start giving all his food to obi-wan, instead, which turns into obi-wan being dragged into the mansion for meals and if it turns into their regular date night??? THEN SO BE IT, IT’S FOR THE GOOD OF THE FOOD, CAN’T WASTE GOOD FOOD, ANAKIN

and YES, 100%, our mans qui-gon jinn deserves to be alive and to fill the role of mentor and adopted dad to all the delinquents obi-wan attracts. he gets involved, he knows the nastier parts of kirkwall, and he’s determined not to have anyone on pushing through things on their own. he keeps tabs as much as he can on everything, and he’s always there for advice or extra training. he deserves the opportunity to retire in a villa in the country side when this is all over for all the shit he had to put with, lmaooo

and YES, having a dog companion is honestly my favorite thing from DA mostly just for the companion interaction, i love it so much (and i’m still upset you don’t have a dog in inquisition!!)

i’m still pondering over who else we can throw in the story to fill roles bc there are gaps like with Anders... but yea i think it works rn, I was almost thinking of using bariss as a fill in for the conflict role that both anders and merill provide? i haven’t actually made it to her arc in TCW myself yet but i’m familiar with the plot of it, i thought maybe her frustrations with the jedi and her disagreements over the rules of the order fits in with merill’s unconventional magic use, but her orchestrating the bombing of the temple is what made me think of it tbh, she could fill ander’s role in act 3? the problem tho i think is that in sw canon she never really interacts with obi-wan or anakin except for in passing? but her and ahsoka are good friends, so it could still work maybe, but i think we’re rocking and rolling rn!!