#obi-wan will dismiss it after that

[dathomirdumpsterfire]

tried two panels this time, to put less text in each.

internally obi-wan was like: 😳🫣 wh- why are you on top of me.

and maul was like: 🤬😡 get UP the kid is going to DIE because you SUCK at your joB

[burningfieldof-clover]

i stared at this for 10 whole minutes before i looked at my husband and gave him a whole ass TEDtalk on why each choice was good or bad. Holy shit I haven't felt this engaged with something and challenged since.... ever?

Please explain your reasoning in the tags and may the Force be with you.

[fellthemarvelous]

It pisses me off to see the way some Star Wars fans are so dismissive of Reva, Third Sister.

She's complex. She's interesting. She's clever. She's intelligent. She's strategic. She's conflicted. She's traumatized. She's scared. She's angry. She's a survivor.

The Obi-Wan Kenobi series literally opens with her and her friends watching one of her Jedi mentors get gunned down by clone troopers during Order 66.

She was a FUCKING CHILD!!! They were in the middle of a lesson when the clones walked in and started shooting everyone!! These were Anakin Skywalker's troopers and they were executing every single Jedi around them.

These children had NO idea what was going on. They were scared and they tried to run to safety.

We remember this scene from Revenge of the Sith and we all immediately knew what it meant.

These are the same bodies that Obi-Wan Kenobi found when he and Yoda returned to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant after having to kill so many of Anakin's clone troopers just to survive.

These are children that the Jedi Council wasn't there to save.

Palpatine snuffed out the light of the Jedi in one swift act of terrorism and then blamed the Jedi for their own genocide after taking over the entire galaxy.

And in times of war, the weakest among everyone always suffer the most.

This is what Reva, Jedi youngling, remembers most about the end of the Clone Wars.

Anakin Skywalker, hero of the Clone Wars and former padawan of the great Obi-Wan Kenobi, murdered all of her friends and injured her.

She had to play dead amongst the dead bodies of her friends, and that's how she survived. She witnessed Anakin Skywalker murder all the Jedi in the temple with no one there to stop him because the other Jedi Masters were being executed in a war they had never wanted to enter into in the first place.

She blames herself for not being able to save her friends because she wasn't strong enough to fight back. No youngling was ever going to be strong enough to stand against Anakin Skywalker. She wanted revenge against Anakin Skywalker, and she was just as desperate to get to Obi-Wan Kenobi as he was. She wanted to kill Anakin Skywalker just as badly as Darth Vader wanted to kill Obi-Wan.

She was alone in a galaxy that tortured and executed surviving Jedi. She spent ten years plotting her revenge against Anakin. She was angry at Obi-Wan for not being there to stop Anakin, and rightfully so.

The Republic fell. Reva and her friends were left unprotected. She was the only person she relied on because everyone else failed her. She was only a child when she lost everyone.

And it's clear she was conflicted by her role as an Inquisitor. She doesn't have the training the other Inquisitors do because she volunteered to be an Inquisitor while all the others were tortured and terrorized into falling to the dark side. She only wanted access to Anakin so she could get justice for what he did to her and her family.

Unlike Anakin, Reva couldn't find it in herself to harm a child. She was seeking revenge solely against Anakin Skywalker. Luke and Leia are the same age she was when she watched her friends and family die in front of her.

Yes, she was prepared to torture Leia, but she consistently hesitated, and when Tala walked in, Reva turned away. She stopped. Yeah she was mad, but she didn't have to go through with it. She'd already planted a tracker on Lola. She was already planning on allowing them to escape so she could locate their secret base. She just needed to bait Obi-Wan. Her plan worked perfectly, and she didn't even have to hurt this child who was annoying the shit out of her (not realizing she was dealing with Anakin Skywalker's offspring).

She went to Tatooine to kill Luke, but she couldn't. She hunted him down without bothering to kill Owen or Beru. She only cared about one thing. Getting justice for what happened to everyone she had been unable to save at the end of the war. She was only a child, and when she realized she was about to kill a defenseless child just to get revenge, she couldn't do it. She saw her face when she looked down at Luke and cried when she realized she couldn't do it.

She was so horrified by what she had been prepared to do and returned him to Owen and Beru alive. She fell to her knees and sobbed because she thought she failed her family in the end.

Obi-Wan was there for her this time. He reminded her that by showing mercy, she was giving her friends and family peace. She was not going to become the monster that Anakin Skywalker was.

Obi-Wan helped her and reminded her that she gets to decide who she wants to be from this point forward. She refused to become Anakin Skywalker, and a weight was finally starting to be lifted from her shoulders. A weight she had been carrying for ten long years.

She did what she thought she had to just to survive. She had only been a child with no guidance because everyone she loved died. She survived by joining the ranks of the enemy so she could plot her revenge. Obi-Wan showed her mercy at the moment she needed it most. He wasn't angry with her. He was compassionate. She survived Order 66 just like he did, but she had been defenseless when they were thrust into a galaxy that tortured and killed Force sensitive individuals and those who helped them. He had failed Reva during Order 66, and he wasn't going to fail her this time.

She is getting a second chance at finding her path in life despite the bad things she did. Everyone deserves a second chance. She was robbed of her childhood and had to grow up overnight. She had to learn how to survive. And that's exactly what she did. Just not in the way she expected.

[kingdomhate]

Accidently Hurting You Scenarios!

Kylo Ren: You both were in a heated argument, about how Kylo needed to take more time for himself. At first, he seemed calm and gentle about it, but he progressively got more and more impatient, eventually raising his voice at you. But were you frightened? No. Not even close. You were determined to get him to see your side and you were going to do that by any means necessary.

However, as he got more aggressive and demanding, you had barely any time to react before he pushed you. You yelp slightly, and fall backward. Squeezing your eyes shut and attempting to break your fall. But as your head hit the tile and Kylo finally realized what he had done... he was terrified. Apologetic, regretful. He picked you up in his arms and held you to his chest while cursing himself vigorously as he used the bond between you two to sense if you were alright. Once he was a thousand percent you were alright, he laid you down and let you rest. Cuddling very close to you, peppering your neck, check and whatever else he can reach with slow, apologetic and gentle kisses.

Armitage Hux: He was mad, what could he say? He was not in control, he was overcome with rage, practically radiating energy that screamed he was capable of killing anyone, you could barely comprehend it. But alas, you approached him. Why? Because you loved him. You had asked him twice what the problem was and he ignored you. Dismissing you as if you were a mere fly.

And now, in the shared quarters of his and yours, you decided to actually bring it up. Your words were sweet, coaxing and motherly, as if speaking to a child. Of course, Armitage was more keen to being spoken to as an adult, a superior. And that must've been the reason why he let you fall after jerking his arm away from you a little too fast, warranting you to lose balance and fall. Letting out a pained screech as you fell directly on your arm, resulting in the uneasy and blood-curdling sound of bones either breaking or chipping. That immediately changed his mood, as he recognized it was you, his angel. Instinctively, he checked the damage and carried you to the medical wing, patiently and worriedly watching over and waiting. Certain you were okay, he let you rest, muttering apologies as he waited for you to wake up.

Anakin Skywalker: It all happened in a flash, the instinctive need to protect himself when he felt you touch him, it might have been paranoia but it happened nevertheless. He should've known you were only trying to help, why on Earth would you ever have the intention of hurting him? When his Jedi instincts came in and he jerked around and flipped you around violently, he gasped. The sight of your eyes teary and your mouth opened in a frightened manner... how could he forgive himself? He apologized profusely and started explaining why that happened, why he did that. Eventually, you understood and forgave him, smiling and acting as though it was alright, Anakin came to terms with it as well and finally forgave himself as well.

Obi-Wan Kenobi: Obi was more or less stressed, but all the same good-mannered as always. However, he had lost patience for some things, such as talking to you. Normally, Obi-Wan was all for speaking to you and getting to the root of the problem but today? He's mood was horrid, he was a mixture of tired and on the edge. He had tried to be patient, he really did. But he had ended up raising his voice and insulting you, calling you a name in which he had never thought he would. That being said, you shut down almost immediately, more so scared for Obi-Wan than yourself. He had never, ever raised anything at you, let alone his voice. So what was going on?

Stress is the first most thing that popped into your head, as you had known Obi-Wan for almost your whole Jedi-incorporated life. So, aside from him calming down, apologizing and reasoning with you, you gave him space. As he was on edge and clearly dealing with too much. He would speak to you once he was calm in control and ready too.

Luke Skywalker: The frustration from once again being denied his right to go to the academy with his friends, was a bit too much for Luke. Of course he had cared enough to tell you and you both talked it out but that was nothing compared to what he couldn't help but want. He wanted to go, he needed to, but he had to stay for another year? It was outrageous. And it warranted Luke to do some uncharacteristic, rebellious things, such as.... sneaking off to meet you in the dead of the night and ride around in his speeder, mostly talking and sometimes making out.

That helped him tremendously in the frustration and pent up tension of being forced to stay. But, upon meeting up with him again for another heavenly make-out session and heart-to heart conversation, he was practically screaming about his frustrations and you were both awe-struck and slightly frightened of this state, as you've never seen Luke so furious before. He had snarled how much he would love to spend time with his friends and take a small break away from you, and how clingy you seemed. That hit a bit too forcefully. You spaced yourself away from Luke for x amount of time and he seemed puzzled as to why you did, but he never asked. A few days later, he had finally seemed to have calmed down, and figured out what he did incorrectly. He apologized for offending you and reassured you that he adored the clinginess of your relationship.

[comebackali]

(via @vaderborn )

The council, pointing at Anakin’s obvious anger issues and deeply problematic relationship with Palpatine: This doesn’t seem right to me.

Obi wan: How dare you?? You have the nerve, the AUDACITY…

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Eleven: Normalcy

Chapter WC: 11,172

Chapter Tags/Warnings: none

A/N: This chapter is 95% dialogue, and yes I could’ve cut it but…I didn’t want to.

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After a fitful sleep, one fraught with nightmares, you wake early the next morning. 

You’ve taken to writing down your dreams when you wake, no longer confident that the nightmares are truly that and not something more prophetic. After Felucia, you know better. 

You don't write down much, just the barest of details, and a vague recollection, but it's enough. And, when you read them back, a pattern emerges. Ever since you awoke in the medbay, you've been dreaming about golden fields, dust and smoke, and a searing pain in your chest so intense, you wake up gasping. 

There's no one else, just the grass, and the dirt, and the wind, and, above it all, the feeling of something horrible about to happen. It's the same every time. Over and over again in a loop, and you're growing tired of it. And despite your efforts, you're no closer to understanding it.

You haven't told anyone, and you're not sure what to do with the information. So, for now, you've decided to keep the details to yourself, at least until you figure out what they mean.

You set the dream journal aside, and you dress quickly, slipping into a fresh pair of robes and leaving your quarters to resume your duties at long last.

Overnight, there was a fire in the Undercity, and the Council dispatched you to investigate the issue. It's far from the first time such an event has occurred, and after a quick debriefing, you head out. The fire had originated in the abandoned warehouse district and had spread to several nearby structures, making cleanup tricky. You spend the better part of the day assisting in the recovery effort and meeting with the survivors, taking note of their injuries and asking questions where you can.

The next few days pass in a blur of activity, and, before long, you've forgotten about your conversation with Obi-Wan and your evening out together. He doesn't bring it up, and neither do you, and the two of you continue on, acting like nothing ever happened. 

It's not exactly a healthy choice, but some things are better left unsaid. It's not like either of you have had the time to talk about it, either. There's always something going on, and the War keeps everyone busy. It's easier, and safer, and the Council doesn't need any more reasons to scrutinize the two of you. Well, mostly you, but you were doing your best to make sure you were on their good side.

By the end of the week, you and the Coruscant Guard are able to catch the arsonist. A local crime boss, known for his use of black market chemicals, had set the blaze in an attempt to cover up the evidence of his operation. You bring him and his crew to justice, and after a long debriefing with a Senate committee, another subcommittee, and then the Council, you're finally dismissed.

With the issue resolved and your report completed, you find yourself with some unexpected downtime. And for the first time in a long time, you're able to enjoy a bit of a break. 

It's still early when you decide to go for a run, and you're out of the Temple and onto the streets in no time. The weather is mild, and the sun is shining, and despite the constant buzz of the traffic, it's pleasant. You've missed running, the only thing that seems to actually clear your head these days, and it's not long before you're lost in thought, the city fading into the background.

It's been weeks since the incident on Felucia. And since then, you've barely had a chance to process what happened. In fact, aside from the nightmares, the only time you've really been able to stop and think was the night you and Obi-Wan snuck off to the cantina. 

Now, as you jog through the city, the air crisp and cool, and the noise of the world dulled, the memories come rushing back. The conversation with Rex in the woods, the pain of the explosion, and the way the Force had screamed at you. You'd been trying to forget, but, somehow, the memories are clearer than ever. As though the alcohol had stripped away the fog, and now, all you're left with are the images.

The war has intensified in recent months. More troops, more missions, and the losses have only increased. Every day, there's a new report of another battle gone wrong, another platoon lost, another planet captured. 

It's getting harder and harder to keep up, and you can only hope that when you return to the frontlines, you're ready. You can’t afford to let yourself panic as you did on Felucia, and the consequences of your failure would be even worse.

The thought makes you grimace, and you force yourself to run faster, pushing the memories away. There's no use dwelling on what's already happened, and you need to focus on the present. And on what’s yet to come.

Your run takes you through the Upper Levels of the city, and as the day progresses, the crowds thicken. Soon, the streets are full of people, and you're weaving between them, ducking and dodging, apologizing under your breath. 

You’re not sure where you’re going, but you keep moving, not paying attention to your surroundings. Until, eventually, you stop in front of the clone barracks.

You look around, and when you realize where you are, a frown tugs at your lips. The building looms in front of you, and you stare up at it, more than a little stunned. You hadn't intended to come here. Or maybe you had. You're not really sure.

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you watch at the entrance for a few moments before shaking your head. There's no reason for you to go inside, and there's certainly no point in bothering him. He's busy. So are you. The two of you don't need to worry about the other. And you certainly don't need to complicate things.

"General?"

You jump and turn. Rex is standing a few feet behind you, his helmet tucked under his arm. He looks exactly as he did the last time you'd seen him, only this time, his eyes are wide, and his cheeks are flushed.

"Captain," you say, smiling. You wave and nod toward the barracks, trying to keep your voice casual. "I didn't expect to see you here. Are you on leave? I thought the 501st was still stationed on Devaron."

Rex doesn't respond, his gaze drifting down momentarily before he quickly refocuses on your face. He looks a bit startled, and more than a little flustered. 

It's only then that you realize you're still wearing your workout clothes, a sleeveless shirt and shorts that reveal quite a bit of your body, your windbreaker tied around your waist. You're not really one for modesty, but Rex has never seen you like this. In fact, none of the clones have. And it's obvious that he's struggling to keep his eyes on your face. 

Your cheeks heat slightly, and you cross your arms, arching an eyebrow. 

"Rex?"

"Yes?" he mumbles. His widen before they snap back to yours, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry. General. It's...you...look good—healthy. Healthy. It’s good to see you looking healthy."

"Well, thank you," you say, your amusement growing. He looks so embarrassed, and yet, he hasn't stopped staring at you, and it's making it hard not to laugh. You shift your weight and tilt your head. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, yes, sir," he stammers. He blinks a few times and clears his throat. "I'm fine. Just wasn't expecting to run into you. Here. At the barracks."

"Right," you chuckle. You take a deep breath and shake your head. "I was just taking a run. Got a bit lost. Guess I was distracted."

"I see."

"Mhm." 

The two of you stand there for a few moments. You're not quite sure what to say. Rex is cute when he’s flustered, but the tension is awkward, and you can tell he's not comfortable. So, after a few seconds, you force a smile.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your morning. I'm sure you have a lot to do,” you say, giving him a friendly nod. You glance over at the barracks and then back at him. "I should get going."

"No, no, you’re not interrupting," he assures you quickly, and he shrugs, his eyes meeting yours. “I was actually on my way out."

"You're leaving?"

"Yeah," he replies, and he gestures to the door. "We got in last night. Just finished debriefing. They're giving us a few days of downtime. Figured I'd take a walk, see the city."

"Ah.”

You look down and fiddle with your jacket, biting the inside of your cheek. This is exactly why you shouldn't have come. Things are too complicated, and you're making it difficult. 

You let out a quiet sigh and look up. He's still staring at you, and he seems genuinely happy to see you, his eyes bright. He's always been so kind, and attentive, and respectful. And he's never once asked anything of you. He's just...Rex. Rex, who treats you like a person, and not just a Jedi.

And, selfishly, you like that. You like having someone who doesn't see you as an asset, or a tool, or a weapon. Someone who isn't afraid to challenge you, and who makes you laugh. Who gives you his full attention and doesn't look at you like a disappointment or a disaster waiting to happen.

While it might be the height of foolishness, and you know that nothing can come of it, it doesn't mean you have to cut yourself off from him completely.

“Would you...like some company?" you ask slowly, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "On your walk."

Rex blinks, his eyes widening, and a hint of red creeps up his cheeks. He looks so surprised, and a little pleased, and a warm feeling blooms in your chest.

"I'd be happy to show you around," you continue. "If you'd like. I know the city pretty well."

He opens his mouth and then closes it. He looks a bit like a fish, and, again, it's cute. Really cute. You find yourself smiling wider, and you wait patiently, the awkwardness dissipating and your confidence returning. 

When he doesn't say anything, you roll your eyes. 

"Unless you don't want to hang out with me, and then I'll leave you alone. You know, I can take a hint. I won't be offended."

Rex chuckles and shakes his head. "No, I...would love some company. But you must have better things to do."

"I'm off duty.” You shrug. "And I've been meaning to get back to the city. Besides, you could use a guide. The last thing you need is to get lost in Coruscant. Not a great look for a representative of the Republic."

"Right," he says, laughing. He takes a step toward you, and he smiles, his eyes warm. "In that case, lead the way."

You grin and turn, heading down the walkway. Rex falls in step beside you, and you set off down the street, a comfortable silence settling over the two of you. You lead him down several winding pathways, weaving through the crowds, the buildings towering over you. The sun is high overhead, and the air is warm, and the city is filled with noise, the hum of the traffic, the sounds of the people, the buzz of the air.

You point out various sites and monuments, telling him a little about each, and Rex listens intently, his eyes moving from one structure to the next. He doesn't ask any questions or press for details, and he seems content to let you ramble, his gaze focused on the city.

You continue like that for a while, chatting and strolling through the streets. The city is beautiful, and it's nice to have a bit of a break. A chance to do something, anything, normal.

As you walk, you sneak glances at him, watching him out of the corner of your eye. He looks a bit more relaxed, his shoulders less tense, but you’re starting to notice he’s making a concerted effort not to look directly at you. 

You wonder if he thinks you haven't noticed, but it's impossible to miss. Anytime he catches your gaze, Rex looks away, his cheeks turning pink. It's not a bad look on him, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't find his efforts to cling to professionalism as frustrating as they are amusing.

You decide to take pity on him and put on your windbreaker, zipping it up to cover your exposed skin. As soon as the fabric is covering your chest, his shoulders drop, and his eyes flick back to yours. He smiles, and you smirk back before turning to point out a statue. The conversation resumes, and his gaze never leaves your face.

You spend the next hour wandering the streets and taking in the sights. It's been a long time since you've gotten to enjoy a day without the weight of responsibility and duty, and even longer since you've been able to show someone around. You almost forgot how much you love this city. Or how much you used to.

At one point, Rex stops and tilts his head, looking up at the tall spires of the skyscrapers, the sun shining down on him. He looks so relaxed, so peaceful, and it makes your heart ache. He doesn't get a chance to do this. None of them do. They're constantly fighting, constantly at war, and, if it weren't for the fact that he was wearing his armor, he would look like anyone else out for a stroll.

He deserves this. To feel normal. To live a life that isn't dictated by the needs and wants of others. To know freedom, and happiness, and joy, and love. And you don't know if he ever truly will. You hope he will. But the chances are slim, and it's hard not to feel a little guilty.

"Something wrong?"

You blink, realizing you've been staring at him, and you smile. "No, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." You look around, taking in the scenery, and you try to distract yourself. "It's just...been a while since I've been able to do this. I forgot how much I loved this city."

"I can see why," he says. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah," you agree. "It is."

You watch him as he takes in the cityscape. He looks so at peace, and so carefree, and the sadness that had overtaken you disappears, replaced by a different kind of ache. An ache that you're all too familiar with. One that you've felt more than once since you were brought back together.

You push it aside and clear your throat. 

"So...where to next? Got any place in particular you'd like to see?"

"No," he replies. Rex turns his attention back to you and grins. "Just thought I'd follow your lead."

"Are you sure?" you tease as you nudge him with your elbow. "You don't have a hidden desire to visit the Museum of Fine Arts? Or the Opera House? You haven’t lived until you’ve seen an all-Bith performance of the Cantina Cantata. It's a Coruscanti classic."

"Ha, ha," he says dryly. "Very funny."

"What?" you ask. You bat your lashes in a show of innocence, and he scoffs. "It's a legitimate question."

"No, thank you,” he says, rolling his eyes, and he gives you a look. "I'll pass. Unless, of course, you want to."

"Force, no," you groan, and Rex lets out a laugh that has your heart fluttering. You smirk and start walking again, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. "There is one place I'd like to go, if that's alright with you. Are you hungry?"

"Starving," he admits with a sheepish smile. "We've been eating rations for two weeks straight. Haven't had real food in ages."

"Perfect."

You're getting close to the industrial district, and you take a left down an alley. It's a narrow path between two towering buildings, and the air is hazy, and there's a smell of smoke and fuel. The street is mostly deserted, and you're careful not to trip over any loose stones or stray bits of scrap. 

It's not the best area of the city, but, if there's one thing you've learned, it's that the best places are often in the worst neighborhoods. And this one was the best.

"You sure this place serves clones?" Rex asks warily as he follows you. He's looking around the alley, his hand resting on his blaster. "Seems a little rough."

"Trust me," you tell him. "This place is great."

The alley ends abruptly and you're greeted by the familiar sight of the small diner. It's an older building, and it's been there for a long time, a relic of the old days. The rounded durasteel walls glint in the afternoon sun, the neon sign blinking in the window, and the door is open, the sound of conversation spilling into the street. A few patrons are standing outside chatting, their eyes watching the two of you, but no one says a word as you enter.

"Hi honey," a cheerful voice calls. A waitress droid wheels over, her round eyes shining. "Welcome. Welcome. What can I get for you today?"

"Table for two, please," you say. “Thanks, FLO.”

"Right this way," she chirps, and she spins around, heading toward the back of the diner. 

You nudge Rex, who's looking around the room nervously, and you nod your head toward FLO's retreating form. "Come on. She won't bite."

"I've never been to a place like this," he mutters as he follows you, staying close. "It's so...normal."

"That's kind of the point," you laugh. You glance over your shoulder and give him a reassuring smile. "Everyone deserves a little normal."

"Fair enough." He takes a deep breath and gives you a half-smile. "Thanks for doing this."

"Of course," you say.

You follow FLO to a booth at the back, and you're about to slide into the seat across from him when a large shadow falls over the table. Rex tenses immediately, his hand moving to his weapon, and you whirl around, expecting the worst. But, instead, you're greeted with the wide grin of an old friend.

"Hi Dex," you say warmly. "Long time no see."

You wince as you're immediately wrapped up in a hug, four arms squeezing you tightly and lifting your feet clean off the ground.

"Hey kid!" he booms. "How the hell are ya?"

"Good," you squeak. "And yourself?"

"I can't complain," Dex says. He releases you and sets you back on the floor, his hand on your shoulder to keep you from toppling over. "Can't complain at all. How've you been? Haven't seen you in forever."

"Busy," you reply with a shrug. "You know how it is."

"Always working," he sighs. He looks around, his eyes landing on Rex for a moment before focusing back on you, a frown bisecting his face. "Where's Obi-Wan? Not used to seeing one without the other."

"Offworld," you explain. "The war’s keeping him busy."

"Ah," Dex says. "And this is...?"

He nods toward Rex, his eyes narrowed and his mouth set in a hard line. Dex isn't an aggressive man, but he's no pushover either, and he doesn't suffer fools. You have no doubt that, should the need arise, he's perfectly capable of taking care of himself. And you're equally certain that he won't hesitate to put a few bolts in anyone who threatens his customers.

"This is Rex, captain of the 501st Legion," you tell him. "My friend."

"Your friend," Dex echoes. He stares at Rex for a long moment, his gaze scrutinizing, before he grins and offers one of his hands. "Dexter Jettster. Welcome to Dex's Diner."

Rex hesitates before he takes the offered hand and shakes it. "Thanks. It's a nice place."

"It's a dump," Dex laughs. "But it's mine. And it's been a good place for years."

"Well, it's a great dump," Rex replies. He looks around and grins. "Very welcoming."

"Glad to hear it," Dex chuckles, and he glances down at you and gives your shoulder a squeeze. "Don't be a stranger. You’re always welcome. You tell Obi-Wan, too.”

"Thanks, I will." You smile and watch him go before turning back to Rex. "You good?"

"Yeah," he says. He lets out a deep breath and gives you a wry grin. "For a second there I thought he was going to throw me out."

"Nah," you tell him. You slide into the booth, and Rex does the same across from you. "He has a very strict 'no questions asked' policy. As long as you're a paying customer, he won't bother you. Unless, of course, you're bothering someone else. Then he'll break your legs."

Rex snorts. "Noted."

FLO comes back with two menus, and you both order your caf, the droid zipping away on a squeaky wheel.

"You two are close," Rex says, his eyes scanning his menu.

"Dex? Yeah," you agree as you do the same. "He's a good friend to have."

"I meant you and General Kenobi."

"Oh." You're taken aback by the question, and the tone in his voice. There's no judgement, no accusation, but the statement still manages to catch you off guard. You set your menu down and meet his gaze. "I suppose we are. Why?"

"Nothing," he shrugs. He glances at his menu and then back at you. "It's just...the two of you seem like a good team. That's all."

"We've known each other a long time," you reply, not entirely sure what he's trying to get at. "And we're good friends."

"I've noticed," Rex says quietly. His expression is guarded and unreadable. He's not being hostile, and his tone isn't rude, but the conversation feels oddly...tense. You desperately want to reach out and sift through his thoughts, but you don't, your curiosity not enough of an excuse to cross such a line. So you wait, your hands clenched under the table, your eyes searching his face for some clue as to where this is going.

Rex seems to sense your apprehension, and he sighs. He puts his menu down and leans forward, his eyes fixed on yours.

"You're different around him," he says carefully. "Around everyone else, you're..."

"Distant," you offer. Your voice is soft, and a bit sad. You're not proud of the fact, and you're not sure how else to describe it. "Unfriendly. Cold. Difficult. Take your pick."

Rex is quiet for a moment. He's not judging, and he doesn't seem angry. In fact, if anything, he looks a bit hurt.

"I was going to say intimidating," he corrects, frowning. He tilts his head. "Is that really how you see yourself?"

"Isn't it how everyone sees me?" you challenge.

"I don't."

"Liar.” You scoff. You lean back in the booth and arch an eyebrow. "We barely know each other."

"I think I'm beginning to understand you pretty well," he argues. "And I don't think I've ever met someone more selfless or compassionate." 

"You should get out more."

"Seriously," Rex says. He sits up and holds your gaze. "I’m not the only one who thinks that way. Everyone else, they just...don't know you well enough."

"You don't know me at all," you tell him. "Not really."

"Maybe not," he says. "But I'd like to."

You stare at him, unable to believe what you're hearing.

"Why?"

He's silent for a few moments, his brow furrowing. His jaw is set and his eyes are focused on the table, his fingers tapping against the surface. Finally, he looks up at you, and he sighs.

“Because I think it’s important to know who you're fighting beside," he explains. "And I'd rather die knowing the person standing next to me."

"That's a pretty bleak outlook," you mumble. You can't argue with the sentiment, but the words still sting. You've never been much for talking about yourself, and even less for sharing personal information.

You pick up your menu and hide behind it, pretending to look over the lunch options. "And there’s not much to know."

"I find that hard to believe." Rex reaches out and gently pulls the menu down, his eyes meeting yours. "Look, I didn't mean to offend you. Or pry. I just—"

"I'm not offended," you say, and you shrug. "Just surprised."

"Why's that?"

"It's just rare to hear someone say they'd like to get to know me," you explain. You pause, and then, after a moment, you decide to continue, "Most people either already know who I am or don't want to know. There's no middle ground."

"That's unfortunate," Rex replies. He picks up his menu again and looks it over. "And unfair. You're not all that bad."

"Not all that bad," you repeat with a small smile. "I'm flattered."

"You should be," he says. He glances up at you, and his face is serious, but his eyes are shining with mischief. "I'm an excellent judge of character."

You chuckle, and the tension breaks as FLO returns with two mugs and a carafe of caf. You manage to persuade her to leave the pot, and Rex can't hide his delight at the first sip, his eyes closing as he takes a deep drink, a content sigh escaping him. You bite your cheek in an effort to disguise your smile as he practically moans.

"I take it the stuff in the mess hall isn't as good as this?" you tease.

"Nothing's as good as this," he murmurs. He opens his eyes and gives you a sheepish grin. "Sorry. It’s been a while since I've had a proper cup of caf."

"I can imagine," you laugh, and you nod toward the pot. "There's plenty more."

"You're my hero," he jokes. He picks up the carafe and refills his cup, taking another sip, his eyes fluttering closed again. He shakes his head and smiles at you. "Best cup I've had in a long time."

"I'm glad you approve," you say as you pour your own drink and spoon sugar into it, trying to hide your amusement. 

You're not sure why, but you like watching him enjoy things, even something as simple as a mug of caf. There's something sweet and charming about it, something almost innocent. He's seen far too much for someone his age, and yet, he still manages to hold onto his optimism and his spirit. He's not jaded or cynical. He's a good person, one of the best you've ever met, and you're finding it hard not to admire him. 

You pick up your mug and lift it in a toast. "To proper caf."

"Proper caf," he echoes. He knocks his cup against yours, and the two of you drink. He sets his mug down and leans back in his seat. "So, what do you recommend?"

"What do you like?"

"Honestly? No idea," he answers. He gestures toward the menu. "I'm a bit out of my depth here. Never had real food. Only rations, or whatever the mess serves."

"Right," you say. You take a sip of your caf and scan the page. "How about I order a few things, and we can share?”

“That would be great,” he says, sounding relieved. “Don’t want to embarrass myself.”

“Oh, please," you snort. You wave a dismissive hand and give him a smile. "No worries. It'll be our secret."

You flag down FLO and order, and Rex falls silent, his gaze focused on the window, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere. The droid wheels away, but he doesn’t look back over. He takes another drink and sighs, his fingers drumming the table, his brow furrowed slightly. 

You tilt your head, waiting, and he lets out a breath, his expression becoming neutral as he turns back to you. 

"If I ask a question, will you answer honestly?"

"Depends on the question."

"Fair enough."

He drums his fingers on the table again, and then he squares his shoulders and clears his throat, his eyes focused on your face. His expression is calm, but you can feel a hint of apprehension. Whatever he's about to say, he's nervous. And that makes you nervous.

"The last time we spoke, you seemed certain that the Jedi Council was going to punish you," Rex says slowly. "And you knew how they were going to handle Ahsoka. Like you were speaking from experience."

You stiffen and take a sip of caf, avoiding his gaze and hoping that he doesn't notice your sudden discomfort, but it doesn't take a genius to know that you've been caught off guard. And that you're not particularly keen on talking about the subject. 

You'd thought you'd done well to avoid the topic of your past indiscretions during your time with the Order, but apparently, you hadn't been as subtle as you'd hoped. Rex was too smart for that. You should have known better.

"That's not a question," you tell him. It's an obvious deflection, and the way his eyes narrow makes it clear that he's not buying it. But it's a deflection nonetheless, and you're not inclined to give him an honest answer. 

"Would you be willing to answer if I asked it?" Rex asks cautiously. He hesitates, and you can feel him probing, trying to gauge how receptive you are. 

You give him nothing, your face a carefully constructed mask of polite indifference. It's the expression you'd perfected as a youngling, and the one that has served you well for years. It's kept people from asking questions, and it's kept you from having to answer them. 

Rex seems to recognize it immediately, and he lets out a breath, a rueful smile on his lips. He leans back in his seat, his eyes studying your face, his jaw clenching and unclenching, and he lets out a low chuckle.

"What?" you ask, your brow furrowing.

"Nothing," he says. He shakes his head and shrugs. "Just starting to understand why you and General Skywalker get along so well.”

"Meaning?"

"Meaning the two of you are both stubborn," Rex chuckles, and he picks up his mug and takes a sip. "He does that same thing, the whole stone wall routine."

"Does he?"

"Yeah."

"Good for him."

Rex scoffs and shakes his head again, but he doesn't say anything, his gaze drifting back to the window. There's a slight crease between his brows, and you can tell he's debating whether or not to drop the subject.

“Look,” he starts. He turns back to you and meets your eyes, his face serious. "I can tell you're not comfortable talking about it. I just...want to know what to expect. What I can do. How I can help."

"I don't need your help," you tell him. It's a knee-jerk response, one that has always been your go-to, and you know it's not exactly true. You sigh and shake your head. "I mean...it's not that simple."

"Okay." He nods, his face patient, his eyes kind. "Can you explain?"

"It's...complicated." You hesitate, and you pick at your nails, staring at the table, your mind racing. You're not sure how to begin, or where to start, or what to say. How to put into words the shame and guilt and regret. You open your mouth, and the words are there, but they're stuck in your throat, refusing to budge.

Rex watches you for a few seconds, and then he sits forward and picks up the carafe, pouring more caf into your mug. You blink, the spell broken, and he pushes the cup toward you along with the sugar you’ve been using.

"Here.”

"Thanks," you reply, grateful for the interruption. You add the sweetener, and stir, your eyes on your mug. 

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me,” he says softly. His hand is resting on the table, his fingers tapping the surface. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pressed."

"It's not that I don't want to," you tell him, the words tumbling out. “Well, okay, it is, but...not for the reasons you're thinking."

"Then what are they?"

You sigh, and you rub your eyes, the exhaustion from the night before settling in. You don't want to lie, and you're tired of secrets, and he's been nothing but understanding and supportive. If there's anyone who might understand, it's him. 

"I'm just...not a very good Jedi."

"You can't be serious," Rex says. He looks appalled, and a little indignant. He shakes his head, and his mouth presses into a thin line. "Of course you are.”

"Hardly." You scoff, and you gesture vaguely in the air, not meeting his eyes. "I have a very complicated relationship with the Council. One that involves me doing the opposite of whatever they want me to do. On multiple occasions."

Rex smirks. "Another thing you and General Skywalker have in common."

"Maybe," you admit. "But I've been on their shit list longer than he has."

"And what have you done to earn that?" he asks. His tone is light, but his words are direct, and a little pointed. He's not judging you, but he wants an answer. A real one. And you're not sure you can give him one, but you try anyway.

"I...have a lot of opinions. And I'm not very good at keeping them to myself, as you know. The Council doesn't appreciate it, and neither do some of the other Jedi."

"That's hardly a crime," he points out.

"Maybe not," you concede. There's a moment of silence, and then you take a deep breath and let it out slowly. "There's...something else."

"Something else?"

"It's not just the opinions."

You fiddle with the spoon, trying to find the right words, trying to figure out how much you should tell him. But the truth is, you don't want to have any more secrets. You trust Rex, perhaps more than you should, and the idea of sharing this particular secret with him is oddly appealing And maybe, just maybe, it will help.

"I'm...not always in the best place, mentally," you finally confess. You keep your voice low, and your eyes on the table, afraid to look at him. You've never said the words out loud, you’ve never had to with Obi-Wan, and he’s the only one you’d ever spoken to about this. The only one still alive, anyway. "Obi-Wan's been...kind enough to overlook it. For the most part."

"For the most part?"

"He has his limits," you explain. You run a hand through your hair, your eyes still downcast. "There are certain things that are...not permitted. Or rather, certain ways that Jedi shouldn't behave. And, as far as the Council is concerned, my behavior has crossed that line on several occasions."

"What sort of behavior?" Rex asks quietly.

"You mean besides arguing with them and disobeying their orders?" you counter.

"Yeah."

You hesitate. You've come this far, and you know you've already said too much, but there's no turning back now. You take a deep breath, and you push aside your pride and your anxiety, your eyes meeting his.

“This doesn’t leave this table, alright? If I tell you, it doesn't go any further. No one can know. You understand?"

"Of course," he agrees immediately. "I won't say a word."

You take a long drink of your caf and let out a sigh, your gaze falling back to the table. It's now or never.

"When I was a youngling, I was apprenticed to a Master," you tell him, keeping your voice low, even though the diner is mostly empty. "Her name was Yaddle. She was one of the High Council members. By that point, I’d had a...history. Of trouble. Of making trouble. I was a handful."

"A handful?" Rex asks, and the corner of his mouth twitches.

"Oh, yes." You roll your eyes, and you can't help the smirk that crosses your face. “Starting fights, running off, talking back, getting in the way, breaking rules. Anything and everything I could think of to get attention."

"And why would a kid like that be apprenticed to one of the most important people in the entire Order?" he asks. "Didn't anyone else want you?"

"No," you admit, and you laugh, a bitter, hollow sound. "Not really. Most people didn't want anything to do with me. The Masters all thought I was too much of a problem. Too difficult."

"Why'd she take you?"

"I don't know," you confess. “At first, I thought it was a punishment, but...after a while, I realized it wasn’t. She genuinely wanted me. And she was the first person who did. I mean, really wanted me."

Rex nods, his face solemn. "What happened?"

"She died," you answer bluntly. You stare at the table and shrug, your eyes burning, and you bite the inside of your cheek. "After the Naboo incident, I’d gone to attend the funeral of Obi-Wan’s Master. She was supposed to come with me, but she said she needed to stay on Coruscant. She said she'd catch up later. But later that night, I felt it. The moment she was gone. I just...felt it. It’s hard to explain if you haven't experienced it. The severing of the bond."

"That must have been rough," Rex murmurs.

"It was," you agree. You swallow hard and look up at him, and the concern and sympathy in his eyes almost breaks you. "And the worst part was, no one believed me. They told me it was my imagination, or a trick of the mind, or a hallucination. But I knew what I felt. She was gone.”

"That's terrible," he says, his voice quiet. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I can’t say it was entirely unwarranted." You let out a bitter laugh and take a drink of your caf. “After she was gone, I was...angry. Really angry. And the Masters and the Council were so busy trying to keep the Order together, no one paid any attention to me. Which meant no one noticed when I started investigating. On my own."

"Investigating what?"

"Her death." you say. You finish your caf and set the cup down, turning it between your fingers, and you let out a long breath. You glance around and lower your voice even more, and Rex leans forward, his brow furrowed. "It was murder. I know it was. I managed to find a few clues, but nothing concrete, and I…”

You trail off and stop, suddenly unable to continue. Your mouth goes dry, and you feel sick. You know what you did. You know what you've done, but saying it out loud makes it real. It means you're acknowledging the worst thing you've ever done, and, while you've done some terrible things, this was different. This was personal. And it hurt. More than anything.

"You did something." Rex's voice is soft, and gentle, and there's no judgement, only understanding. You don't deserve it. You know you don't. But it's hard to ignore the warmth that fills your chest. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. "What was it?"

“It wasn’t intentional. It wasn't like I'd planned to do it. It just...happened," you explain. Your hands shake slightly, and you curl them into fists to steady them. "Obi-Wan and I had an argument, and I stormed out. I went off alone to the Undercity, and I was angry, and hurt, and...and I wasn't paying attention."

"You weren't paying attention?" Rex repeats, his brow furrowed. He sits forward, his eyes narrowed, and his mouth is a tight line. "What do you mean? You weren't paying attention to what?"

"I let my guard down," you tell him. You hesitate, and then continue. "I should've known someone would be after me. After what happened. But I was too busy trying to figure out what to do next that I didn't even think..." 

You trail off and close your eyes. You can feel the tears threatening to spill over. You open your eyes and force yourself to meet his. "I was tricked into entering a trap. By the time I realized it was a set-up, it was too late.

"I found some of Yaddle’s things planted there, and then I was attacked. They used the Force to restrain me," you say evenly. "They put me in a chokehold somehow. I couldn't move or speak or fight back. They told me that I should've stayed away. And then, they..."

Your throat closes and your chest tightens as the memory flashes across your mind, as fresh as the day it happened. You can feel the cold, damp air of the Undercity, the pressure around your neck, the sound of their voice in your ear, the taste of blood in your mouth. 

The rage and fear and shame are just as strong as they were back then, and you have to clench your hands into fists to stop them from shaking, the urge to scream and break something almost overwhelming. You take a few seconds to calm yourself, and when you speak again, your voice is hoarse.

"They tried to kill me," you say. "And something inside me…clicked. A power I didn’t know I had. I lost control. I nearly collapsed a building on us both. The attacker escaped." 

You pause and take another deep breath. "I don't remember much after that. I was barely conscious. All I could think about was getting out. I don't know how I made it back to the Temple. I only found out later that some civilians were caught in the collapse."

Rex doesn't respond. His jaw is clenched, his mouth set, and his eyes are focused on you. You’re taken aback by his reaction, the force of it a surprise. You had expected sympathy or concern. Pity, maybe. But not anger.

"What?" you ask.

"How long ago was this?" 

“I was twenty, so...about ten years ago."

"Ten years," Rex repeats, his expression darkening. "You've been carrying this around for ten years?"

You sit back and fold your arms across your chest, watching him. You can’t help but feel defensive, and more than a little irritated.

"You seem upset."

"You almost died," he snaps. He lets out a huff and shakes his head. "Someone set a trap for you, and you almost died."

"That's generally what happens when you're careless." You try to keep your tone light, but the look he gives you is fierce. His eyes are hard and cold, his jaw tight, and his shoulders are tense. He's furious. You frown. "You're not mad at me, are you?"

"What?" Rex asks. He blinks, and his face softens slightly. "No. No, I'm not angry with you. I'm just...concerned."

"You don't need to be."

"I think I do," he counters, and he leans forward, his eyes searching your face. “Who was it? The person who attacked you?"

"I don't know," you say honestly. "I never saw their face. But I have a few theories that I’m still trying to confirm."

"Any suspects?"

"One."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Maybe."

Rex's frown deepens, and he leans back, his expression wary. "What aren't you telling me?"

"A lot." You shrug, and he rolls his eyes, which makes you smile. "I'm not trying to be coy. There's just a lot of information that isn't relevant to the current situation. Or your job."

"I disagree."

"You would," you scoff. You sit back and cross your arms over your chest. "Look, this is...really hard for me, okay? And I'm not exactly eager to relive the whole thing. Especially with someone who could easily report me."

"I wouldn't," he says, quick and earnest, and his brow furrows. “I gave you my word, and I intend to keep it. But, if there's someone out there who wants you dead, we should be aware."

"There are a lot of people who want me dead," you reply with a huff of laughter. “That comes with being a Jedi. We tend to piss people off."

"This was personal," Rex argues. He sits forward, his eyes narrowed, and his hands folded on the table. "You said the attacker told you that you should've stayed away. They knew you."

"I did."

"Which means they're likely connected to your investigation into Master Yaddle's death," he points out. “Potentially even the murderer themself.”

"Maybe."

"So who do you think it was?"

You give him a long, hard look, and he meets your gaze. His eyes are unflinching, and his jaw is set. He's not going to back down. And, even though you know you shouldn't, you can't help but admire him for it. He's stubborn and tenacious, and it's hard to refuse him. Harder than you'd like to admit.

You sit forward, folding your hands in front of you, and your voice drops to a low whisper. “Dooku.”

"Count Dooku?" Rex repeats. He blinks, and his eyes widen. He glances around, leaning forward and keeping his voice low. "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Dooku," he whispers. His mouth sets in a grim line, and he shakes his head. "That's...that's a pretty serious accusation."

"I know." You sigh and lean back, running a hand through your hair. "Look, I've had a lot of time to think about it, and it makes sense. Dooku has the resources and the ability. Plus, he has a personal connection to Yaddle, and he was missing from the funeral the night she died, despite Qui-Gon being his Padawan. The only thing I’m still shaky on is the motive.”

"That's a solid theory,” he admits, his tone resigned, as he rubs the scar on his chin with his thumb. “On Geonosis, you wanted to go after him. I stopped you.”

“Yeah, well, it turned out to be a good call." You snort and shake your head. “If I had, I'd be dead. He probably would've killed me before I even got close."

"Still," he insists. He takes a deep breath, and he studies your face. "So what happened next?"

"Next? I tried to forget it ever happened. And, for a while, I succeeded," you answer. You can't keep the bitterness out of your voice. "I didn't tell anyone. Not the Council, not Obi-Wan. Nobody."

"Why not?"

"Because I didn't have proof. I had a necklace and a few vague memories."

You shrug, and he raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. You let out a frustrated sigh, and you drop your gaze to the table.

"It was easier, alright? I was afraid. If I told them the truth of what happened, and the power I used, they'd send me away," you confess. You pick at your nails, and your voice is quiet. "The Council was already looking for a reason to get rid of me. If they found out what I'd done, that I'd nearly killed civilians, even if it was an accident...I’d have been expelled or sent to rot in the Citadel."

"They'd do that?"

"Without hesitation," you tell him. "They're not exactly big on second chances when it comes to the Dark Side. And they were already convinced I was going to fall."

"That's absurd."

"Is it?" You glance up at him and smirk. "They were right, in the end."

"Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true."

"No, it isn't."

"Rex—"

"No," he says firmly. He reaches out and gently tugs your hands away from where they're picking at your nails, and he squeezes once before dropping them. "Whatever happened, whatever you did, it doesn't define you. You're a good person."

You bite the inside of your cheek and shake your head. "I’d hold your applause until the end."

"I'm serious."

"So am I," you snap. You sit forward, your hands curling into fists. "You're acting like I didn't do anything wrong, or that I'm somehow an innocent party in all this. I’m not. What I did was terrible. And the consequences were severe."

"I understand, but—"

"You don't," you say flatly. "You can't."

He opens his mouth, and you hold up a hand, stopping him. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, forcing yourself to calm down.

"Sorry," you murmur. You rub a hand over your face and shake your head. "This is a lot harder than I thought."

"You don't have to explain anything," Rex says quietly. His voice is warm and soothing, and when you look up, his eyes are kind. He offers a small smile, and you try your best to return it.

"I know. But I want to."

"Are you sure?"

"No," you sigh. "But I'm doing it anyway."

Rex nods, and you let out a breath. You can feel the anger and shame and guilt still simmering below the surface, but it's tempered by his reassurance. 

"So," you continue. "Where were we?"

"After the attack," he answers, his eyes on your face.

"Right. Well, things were...awkward, to say the least," you admit as look out the window. "For a while, no one would talk to me. They avoided me, or looked the other way, or pretended not to see me. Which was fine, I guess. I wasn't exactly keen on talking to anyone either."

"What about General Kenobi?"

"Obi-Wan? No. Not really." You hesitate, and then you shake your head. “Actually, no. Not at all. He didn't say a word to me."

"That doesn't sound like him," Rex remarks.

"No, it doesn't," you agree. You can't hide your bitterness, and Rex seems to notice.

"Did he say why?"

"Not at first. We didn't really speak to each other for the next decade, actually," you say, your tone dry. "We kept our distance. He was busy training Anakin, and I was busy..."

"Busy what?"

"Busy trying not to lose my mind," you answer, your voice hollow. You swallow hard, and force yourself to look him in the eye. "The isolation was hard. No one wanted anything to do with me, and I was...paranoid. I thought everyone was watching me. Waiting for me to slip up. So I kept my head down. I did my duty. I served, I waited.”

"Waited for what?"

"An opportunity." You let out a slow breath, and you can't stop the bitterness from seeping into your words. "Turns out, that opportunity was the Clone Wars. You know what happened on Geonosis, but later, before we were…reunited, I was sent on a mission. I encountered the man who lured me into the trap, and, when I realized it was him, I...lost control. Again."

"You lost control." Rex frowns, his eyes narrowing. He leans forward, his hands on the table, his gaze locked on yours. "What happened?"

“I left my charge to track him down. He didn’t have much to offer, just that he was paid anonymously to lure me into the Undercity." You rub your temples, the memory flashing through your mind. "While I was interrogating him, the Senator that I was protecting was attacked. 

“I hurt people that day saving her, and when I returned to Coruscant, the Council decided that enough was enough. They suspended me from duty and placed me under constant supervision. I was a liability, and an embarrassment. They told me that, if I continued to act like a child, I would be treated like one."

"That's harsh."

"It was fair," you say, and he scoffs. "They didn't trust me. I didn't trust myself. I was angry and reckless and out of control, and I hurt the people I was supposed to protect. The only way I could protect anyone was by staying out of the field and away from the war. I'd failed. I'd let my emotions get the best of me, and it had almost cost me everything."

"That doesn't make it right," he argues. "What you did, losing control, it was an accident. They shouldn't have treated you like a criminal."

"I was a danger," you remind him. “And the Order can’t afford to have unstable Jedi. It's our job to maintain order and peace. We can't do that if we can't control ourselves."

"You weren't dangerous. You weren't unstable," he argues. He takes a deep breath, and when he speaks again, his voice is softer. "You were scared. I may not be a Jedi, but I know what fear does. It's a survival instinct. And, sometimes, the body does things to protect itself that the mind doesn't understand. You weren't in control of yourself. It was an accident."

"It doesn't matter," you reply. You sigh and run a hand through your hair, a wave of exhaustion washing over you. “We’re supposed to be able to control ourselves. Our feelings, our actions, our thoughts. We're trained to use the Force, it's not supposed to be the other way around. What I did...what happened...it was wrong. And it can’t happen again. Not ever."

Rex falls silent, his brow furrowed, his eyes fixed on your face. After a moment, he nods, and he sits back in his chair, letting out a long breath. 

"Okay."

"Okay?" you repeat incredulously. "That's all you're going to say?"

"Yes," he answers. His mouth twitches, and his eyes meet yours. "What did you expect me to say?"

"I don't know," you confess, and you can feel a small grin forming. "Kinda expected you to lecture me, honestly. Maybe argue with me a little bit more."

"Do you want me to?" Rex asks, the corner of his mouth turning up in a wry grin when you roll your eyes. "Because I can. You seem to enjoy arguing with me."

"It is fun," you admit, and his lips curve into a full-blown smile, his eyes sparkling. "And you are good at it."

"That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Don't let it go to your head."

"Too late." He chuckles, and it's such a genuine sound that you can't help but join him. The tight knot in your chest loosens slightly, and you let out a breath, a wave of relief washing over you.

You feel lighter, as though a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. There's a quiet calm in the air, and you allow yourself a moment to relax. You can't help the small flutter in your chest when Rex’s eyes meet yours, his smile bright.

He looks younger when he smiles, the stress and tension gone from his face. You like seeing him this way. Happy and relaxed. It suits him.

"Thank you. For trusting me,” Rex says, voice soft and sincere.

"Well, thank you for listening." You take a drink of caf and smile at him over the rim of your cup. "And thank you for not judging me."

He shakes his head. "You don't need my judgement. You're doing enough of that yourself."

"I am not," you protest. He raises an eyebrow, and you scoff. "Okay, maybe I am. But only because it's true."

"Maybe," he says. "But, if you don't mind me saying, it's also unnecessary."

"I do mind,” you mutter. "I was reckless and arrogant and stupid, and a lot of people got hurt because of it. Including me."

"You made a mistake." He shrugs, and his smile fades, his expression becoming serious. "Everyone does. That doesn't make you a bad person. Or a bad Jedi."

"Then what does that make me?"

"Human."

You snort, and you take a long sip of caf, trying not to roll your eyes. Rex chuckles and ducks his head. "All right, that was cheesy, I'll admit. But it's true. That's what makes us different from droids. We're flawed. We make mistakes. It's how we learn."

"Some of us more than others."

"True."

"You're being too nice to me," you tell him, only half-joking. You finish your caf and set the mug on the table, folding your hands in your lap. "You're making me uncomfortable."

"I'm not," he argues. He tilts his head, studying you. "I'm being honest."

"Same difference."

Rex huffs, exasperated, and his eyes roll up. "Why does everything have to be a fight with you?"

"It doesn't," you say. You smile, and it's a real one. "Just most things."

He starts to reply, but FLO returns before he can, rolling to a stop beside the table with a tray floating beside her. It's overflowing with food, and the smell is incredible. Your mouth waters. You're hungrier than you realized.

"Here you go," she chirps. She lowers the tray onto the table, and she starts unloading the plates. Rex's eyes are as wide as yours, and the both of you sit in stunned silence, watching as the diner droid arranges the food with a flurry of mechanical arms. "This is the breakfast platter, the lunch platter, and the dinner platter. Enjoy."

"FLO, wait," you call, but the droid is already rolling away. "There's way too much food here."

"Not a problem," she says cheerfully. She stops and turns around, her mechanical arms whirring. "Anything for you, honey. You just let me know if you need anything else."

"Thank you," you say, smiling. She lets out a pleased beep and rolls away, leaving you alone with Rex and more food than either of you could possibly eat. "Wow."

"Wow," Rex echoes. He's staring at the table, his eyes wide, and you're pretty sure you've rendered him speechless. He shakes his head, his mouth hanging open, and he meets your eyes. "Is it always like this here?"

"I mean, yeah, but this is a lot, even for her," you say. You glance at the tray and let out a low whistle. "She must really like you."

"Lucky me," he mutters, and you snort. He frowns at the pile of food, his brow furrowed, and he glances at you. "So, how are we doing this?"

"You need a strategy for everything, Captain?” 

"No."

"Then stop stalling," you tease, and he fixes you with a flat look. "Just try what looks good. If we can't eat it, she'll pack it up. Don't worry."

"Right," he says. He hesitates, and you roll your eyes and snatch a slice of toast from the plate. "How are we splitting this?"

"I don't know. You pick first, and I'll grab whatever's left." You take a bite of the toast, and Rex gives you a long look. You shrug, your mouth full. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Then quit looking at me and eat."

He sighs, but he reaches for a bowl, and for a few minutes, the two of you eat in companionable silence. You keep an eye on Rex, watching him from the corner of your eye as he tries everything FLO has given him. His expression is thoughtful, and he takes his time, trying to decide what he likes best. He's savoring every bite, and every time he takes a sip of caf, his face relaxes, his shoulders sagging. 

It's kind of endearing, in a weird sort of way. And, as you watch him, a small, traitorous part of your mind wonders if it'd be so bad to have this every day. This quiet. This calm. You quickly banish the thought, and you shove another piece of bread in your mouth.

You can't think like that. You can't allow yourself to become attached.

You don't realize you've been staring until Rex looks up, catching your eye. His cheeks flush and he puts down his fork.

"Sorry," he says, a little sheepishly. He gestures vaguely at the food. "I didn't mean to—"

"Don't be sorry," you cut in. You shake your head, and the words come out without your permission. "It's cute."

Rex's eyebrows shoot up, and he lets out a short, sharp laugh, the corner of his mouth turning up in a half-smile. "Cute?"

"Yes," you say, and you try to sound confident, but you can't quite keep the edge of embarrassment out of your voice. You duck your head and take a bite of fruit, keeping your gaze focused on the table. "Relax. You're fine."

"If you say so."

"I do."

You can feel him watching you, and you resist the urge to hide behind your hands. Instead, you take another bite, and you're careful not to look at him, afraid you'll make things even more awkward than they already are. You can still feel his eyes on you, and the heat rises in your cheeks, your ears burning.

"So," you start, the silence suddenly unbearable. "Any big plans while you're on shore leave? Aside from eating.

"Not really," he admits. He takes a long drink, and he leans back in his seat. "I was just going to rest, honestly. Catch up on reports. Maybe spend some time in the sims."

"You can't just spend a day relaxing?" you ask. He shrugs, and you can't help but smile. "What do you do for fun?"

"Fun?"

"Yeah." You gesture vaguely in the air, and you tilt your head, watching him. "Like, something that doesn't involve work."

"Oh." Rex frowns and stares at the table. His expression is thoughtful, and you get the sense that no one's ever asked him that question before. He meets your eyes and shrugs. "I don't know. I read, sometimes. Watch the holonet. Train. Nothing exciting."

"You like to read?"

"I like to learn," he says. He gives you a half-grin, and he picks up his fork, poking at the scrambled eggs on his plate. "You can learn a lot from military history. And there's not much else to do on a starship other than train or sleep. Reading's a good way to pass the time."

"Fair point."

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah," he says. "What do you do when you're not on duty?"

"Honestly? The same thing as you," you confess. He snorts, and you shrug. "I'm not exactly a social butterfly, if you haven't noticed. Most of my free time is spent in the library, or the Temple gardens."

"I have noticed."

"Well, there you go."

Rex smiles, and he shifts in the booth, stretching out his legs. His knees brush yours under the table, and you ignore the rush of warmth that courses through your veins. It's strange. He's wearing armor, and the touch should be cold, hard, uncomfortable. Instead, it's the opposite. His armor is warm and solid and sturdy. Comforting, even. 

You shift your legs away from his. You need to stop.

"Tell me," you start, and Rex glances up. He's still smiling, and he's watching you intently. You gesture at the empty plate in front of him. "Was that better or worse than the rations?"

"Better," he answers immediately. He grins, and his eyes meet yours, soft and bright. "Definitely better."

"Good." You smile back, and you can't help but be proud. Your foot nudges his under the table. "I'm glad."

"Thanks for this," he says, nodding towards the tray of food. His gaze meets yours, and his voice is warm and sincere. "For bringing me here. It's...it's nice."

"Of course," you say. You duck your head and try to ignore the sudden rush of warmth in your chest. You swallow hard and focus on the table, pushing down the feeling. "We can come back again, if you want. There's plenty more I can show you. If you're interested."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," he says. His smile is gentle, and he tilts his head. "I'd like that."

"Me, too," you say. You smile back at him, and his lips twitch. His foot nudges yours, and, this time, you don't move away.

The rest of the meal passes quickly. You finish eating, and the two of you sit for a while longer, chatting about everything and nothing until the sun begins to dip lower behind the buildings towering over you.

Eventually, though, it's time to leave. You pay for the food, ignoring Rex's protest with a quip about the Republic’s illimitable pocketbook, and you head outside into the late afternoon sun. The street is busy, filled with the bustle and noise of people going about their lives, and the two of you stand on the sidewalk, unsure of what to do next.

"So," Rex starts, and he rocks back on his heels, his hands clasped behind his back. He looks awkward, almost nervous. "I guess I should go."

"Yeah," you say, and, despite the fact that you've been telling yourself all day that this is a bad idea, your heart sinks. You gesture vaguely toward the Temple looming in the distance. "Me too. I've got some things I should probably deal with."

"Right."

The silence stretches between the two of you, and neither one of you moves. After a few seconds, Rex clears his throat, and he meets your eyes.

"Thank you again. For bringing me here," he says, his voice soft. "And for the food."

"Don't mention it," you reply with a small smile.

You look down at the ground and kick at a stray stone, trying to bury the sudden pang of sadness. You'd had fun. More fun than you'd had in a long time, but you're not naive enough to believe that this is something that can happen again. Your schedules are far too erratic, and you're not sure you can trust yourself around him. The brief physical contact is already beginning to wear on your resolve. 

"I'll see you later then," you tell him, forcing a casual tone.

"Later," he agrees. 

He takes a step forward and hesitates. For half a second, you think he might hug you, which is a ridiculous thought. He wouldn't. And you certainly wouldn't let him. But there's something in the way he's looking at you, the way his eyes flick down to your lips, the way his hands flex at his sides. 

For a moment, everything feels frozen. Neither of you move, and neither of you speak. The noise of the crowd seems distant, and the world falls away. It's just the two of you, standing there, waiting. Waiting for something, anything.

And then Rex nods stiffly, his hands resting on his hips, and he takes a step back. "Take care, sir."

"You too, Captain."

You turn and walk away.

When you finally make it back to your room in the Temple, you flop down onto your bed, your head buried in the pillow. You let out a long sigh and close your eyes, the sound of Rex's voice still ringing in your ears. 

He'd been kind and charming and sweet, and he'd listened to you and laughed with you and made you smile. And, for a brief moment, you'd forgotten all about the war, the Order, and everything else. You'd just existed.

It was stupid. You were stupid.

But you'd had fun.

It'd been nice.

Really, really nice.

"Shit," you mumble into your pillow. You roll over and stare up at the ceiling, and you groan.

This is going to be harder than you thought it would be.

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[cookybananas]

It's Been A Long Time, Old Friend (Part II) - Unburnt!Darth Vader x Reader

author's note: apologies for the delay! but here is part II to 'Its Been A Long Time, Old Friend'. I am currently working on the third chapter, which will be the final part of the mini-series. I am hoping to release it within the next few days. please let me know what you think of the series so far! xx

summary: where Darth Vader arrives on the planet of Lianna. Only to discover that the Queen of Lianna was once his old flame during his Jedi years. part I: It's Been A Long Time, Old Friend (Part I)

You couldn't sleep as well as you thought last night. You felt overwhelming chilly and cold. Perhaps you accidentally left one of your balcony doors open.

Chira was doing your hair as you accessorized yourself with jewelry. You were expected to dress a certain way ever since you became a monarch. Displaying your wealth and status in the intricate, puffy gowns, bouffant hair, and excessive jewelry. At times, you felt the clothing and jewelry you had wore was a bit much, but to your dismay, you didn't have a say in it.

"Is everything alright Y/N?" Chira spoke up, noticing how you were less talkative this morning.

"Yes, Chira...It's just a surprise to find out that Lord Vader would be staying with us the next four weeks. Other than that, everything is fine." You gave her a small smile as you both made your way out of your chambers. Both you and Chira talked some more before you dismissed her to her other duties.

After indulging in breakfast with Kairos in silence as per usual, he eventually left as he had gone off to show Lord Vader the facilities to where his TIE fighters were being built.

You were in the palace's private library, reading away. Life in the palace was boring, but you selfishly prefer this than having to hop planets every week. You didn't have to work in terrible conditions and worry about when or what your next meal was. At times, you weren't sure how long you could get away living this life, or how long the Empire would reign for.

Vader's presence on Lianna left you on edge, you began to ponder at your ruminations. What if you hadn't fully cut yourself off from the force? When the Jedi fell, inquisitors arose and hunted any Jedi. Whether it was to turn them into inquisitors or just simply kill them off. At times, you wanted to reach out to Obi-Wan and see how he was doing. Though, you and Obi-Wan agreed to never disclosed your locations to each other, for the sake of each other's safety, you couldn't deny that you missed your old friend dearly. But there one person you missed the most, and it was your former lover, Anakin Skywalker.

You felt like a traitor when you were forced to marry Kairos. You felt as if you betrayed Obi-Wan, yourself, and most importantly, Anakin. The guilt ate you up for the longest time until you made peace with it, believing this was how your life was going to be from now on.

When Obi-Wan had broke the news that Anakin gone, you refused to believe him at first. You lived in denial for several months, drowning in your sorrow, and holding out hope that your husband would return to you one day.

There was one night, you had a dream of Anakin dying. The dream felt too real that you couldn't tell if it was the force telling you the veracious fate of Anakin. You searched your feelings, which only pushed you in believing that the Anakin you knew and loved ceased to exist. That same night, you made the decision to cut yourself off the force and try to leave your Jedi past behind.

-

Lightning flashed through the tall windows of the dimly-lit palace. The faint sound of thunder rumbling echoed throughout the night sky, masking the sound of Vader's heavy footsteps and breathing as he roamed the corridors. After a long day of touring the facilities and having to listen to Kairos at every minute of the day, Vader was ready to be done and meditate in his chambers. But before he could, Vader had to map out the palace, scanning the building to locate any secrets that may had any hidden passages, hiding any force-sensitive people.

After sending two probe droids and unit of stormtroopers to scan the exterior, Vader had made a beeline through every hallway and room he had encountered, making sure every crevasse of the interior of the palace was noted in his holomap.

When Vader had hit the throne room, the blue light emitted from his wrist, scanning over the objects and walls within the room. When the light had hit the large portrait of you and Kairos, Vader paused, analyzing the picture. Though the room was dimly lit from the lanterns on the wall, the flashes of lightning allowed Vader to take in the portrait clearly.

Vader studied you, his eyes scanning over your features. Your face didn't have any of the royal face paint on. Instead, your face bore little to no makeup, showing your true natural beauty. Vader furrowed his eyebrows as his eyes landed at the small scar on your right cheek. Vader couldn't tell if it was a doppelgänger, or that it was a coincidence that another woman in the space system happened to eerily look like you and have the exact scar on the cheek. He thought fate was playing with him.

"My Lord, we have just finished scanning the palace." The voice of one of his stormtroopers shook Vader out of his thoughts. A flash of lighting glared through the windows and on the portrait, as Vader took one last good look at image before leaving the room and into his chambers.

-

A week had passed since Vader made the decision to stay at the palace. You rarely saw him around at first, but he soon came around and would join you and Kairos for breakfast and dinner. Though he wouldn't eat anything and would just sit and watch you and Kairos eat in silence, perhaps it allowed him to come out of his shell, or just spy on you both.

The one thing you did notice, was how he took a liking to you, at least that's what you convinced yourself of. Whenever Vader was in the presence of both you and Kairos, you always felt like there were a pair of eyes watching you. When you would look back at him, he either continue to stare at you or avert his gaze.

Maybe you were going crazy, but you could still sense Vader's prying eyes on you before going to bed. Because of this, you had made sure to close and lock your balcony doors every night, but even then, you couldn't shake the feeling away that you were being watched.

There was one day you wanted to test the waters with Vader and mustered the courage to start a conversation with him.

"Lord Vader, I hope you are enjoying your stay with us." You stated, approaching the Sith Lord, who was gazing over the clashing waves of the ocean. Vader turned to look at you, surprised at your words.

"Your majesty, it would appear I am enjoying my stay here. It does feel great... To be here, where it is beautiful, and relaxing" He let out, turning to look back at the ocean. You raised your eyebrows, stunned at his response. You've heard Vader was often straightforward with his words, never did he find interest in engaging in intimate conversations, even with his own men.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that Lord Vad-"

"Vader. You can refer me as Vader m'lady. You need not use formalities when you address me, especially when we are alone together." He interrupted you, you were taken aback at his words, unsure what to say.

"Well, Vader. In that case, you can call me Y/N." You gave him a small smile. Anakin whipped his head at your words, his eyes widening under the mask. It was you, it has to be you, this has to be a twist of fate. Anakin's breath hitched in his throat at the revelation.

"Are you alright Vader?" Your tone became serious, noticing the sudden change in his demeanor. You unconsciously touched his well built bicep, a habit you had when expressing your concern. The sudden contact sent a surge of electricity through the both of you. Realizing your action, you pulled your arm back. Anakin on the other hand was disappointed when your hand was no longer on him. He felt that all the pieces missing to him have fallen in place when you touched him. The faint feeling of familiarity he felt when he had landed on Lianna, had become stronger by the moment when you had touched him.

"Oh would you look at that, it's almost time for supper, care to join us?" You cleared your throat, looking down at your pocket watch, quickly changing the subject matter. Vader couldn't refuse, he needed an excuse to be with you longer. He needed you to touch him again, or him to touch you, or something for him to feel that spark he had just felt.

"I...I would love that." He let out. You gave him a huge grin at his response.

A gesture that Vader would never do, he offered his arm to you, in hopes he that you'll ignite that spark in him again. You hooked your arm around his, as you both made your way to the dining hall.

To say that Vader was feeling conflicted at the moment was an understatement. Anakin began to feel that his heart was melting away the ice around it. The past two years, he had felt nothing but fear, pain, and suffering. All of sudden, you, you reminded him about this youthful self and his past, before he became a Sith.

Anakin knew he would have to bring you to the Emperor or have you killed, whether it by his hands or one of his inquisitors, but now he couldn't bring himself to do either. You were his, truly. You were his angel, his wife, and his Y/N. All of the visions he had of you dying were no longer true, there were fictitious. Anakin thought he had lost everyone he loved, but you remained.

-

"That was well delicious as always." Kairos said to one of the butlers, to which you nodded in agreement as the butlers took the plates away.

"It's getting late, we should head to bed honey." You spoke up, looking at Kairos, who nodded in agreement.

"Allow me to walk you to your room my dear." Kairos stood up from his seat, as did you. You roped your arm his as you turned to back at Vader who was seated across the table.

"Goodnight Lord Vader." You gave him a smile, before leaving the room with Kairos. The both of you strolled down the hallway in comfortable silence. Instead of walking into the direction of your private chambers, you both made your way out to the palace's lit up courtyard. Kairos stopped in his place, turning to face you, holding both of your hands in his.

"Y/N..." Kairos spoke up. You looked up to him curious at his strange behavior and sudden intimacy.

"What is it Kairos?" You asked.

"I've noticed our guest has taken a liking to you." He commented. You raise an eyebrow at his statement.

"I think you're reading into it too much Kairos." You turned away, walking back into the direction from where you had came from, not wanting to deal with whatever Kairos had to pick with you this time. However, Kairos grabbed a hold of your wrist, spinning you around to face him.

"Y/N, for once put your ego aside... I understand we may not get along and disagree on most things, but I do care about you... I trust you, but I don't trust Lord Vader. Don't think I haven't noticed his wandering eyes on you." You scoffed at his accusation, ripping your hand out his grasp.

"Are you hearing yourself Kairos? You seem jealous at Vader's closelesness to me. Perhaps-" Before you could finish your words, Kairos smashed his lips against yours. Your eyes widened as you shoved Kairos off, wiping yours lips in disgust.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?" You began to yell at him, never did you imagine Kairos to pull a fast one on you.

"I need you shut up and listen to me for once Y/N. I understand you may not like me, but Lord Vader is here for a reason." Kairos took a step closer to you, his hands holding yours arms that were resting to side. "You may not see it Y/N, but there is something about you that brought Vader here."

You took a step back from Kairos, letting the revelation hit you. Your jig was up, you realized you should have been more careful around Vader. You should have known better that your force signature was still lingering out there. You needed to get off this planet before Vader figured it out.

"I...I need to know. What exchange did you have with the Empire? What relation do you have with him?"

"I-I don't know Vader like that Kairos. I have no idea what you're trying to get at." Your voice trembled, failing to hide your sudden nervousness.

"I suppose, you don't have to tell me if you want to... However, I do think it's best you leave Lianna for sometime. Before something happens." Kairos' voice was softer now. He held your hands once again, his eyes boring into yours. "I'll make sure Chira comes along with you, I'll send you to a planet somewhere in the Outer Rim. The Empire and Lord Vader would not be able to track you as easily there."

"Thank you Kairos... Really, I mean it." You cupped his cheek, to which he closed his eyes and leaned his head into. Realizing what you needed to do and where you needed to go, you knew this would probably be the last time you would step foot on Lianna, at least for a long time. "I apologize for roping you into this.... I know we had our differences, but I did not mind being around you. Even if you were a pain in my ass."

Kairos chuckled at your words, amused at your humor during one of the few vulnerable moments shared between the both of you. You knew you couldn't bring yourself to love Kairos, despite being married. You felt your heart still belonged to Anakin, even when you convinced yourself that he was gone.

"Just know I did love you Y/N, but I knew your heart was somewhere else when I had choose you." You quirked an eyebrow at his words.

"Y-you knew? Why did you still choose me?"

"You were beautiful, and still are. In truth, I needed my father to get off my back, but I did feel alone for the longest time before meeting you." Kairos looked down, avoiding your gaze.

Your eyes soften at his state. Part of you believed that your relationship with Kairos could have worked out. You strongly believed that you could have been good friends at least, but you both were too occupied being enemies than wanting to get along.

"I won't keep you here any longer. I'll have a ship ready for you. Grab whatever you need. Chira and I will meet you by the landing pad." The sudden shift in Kairos' serious tone shook you out of your pondering.

"I'll be quick. Thank you once again Kairos." You gave a quick kiss on his cheek before breaking out into a run, making your way into your private chambers to grab your emergency bag that held your personal items.

-

the finale: It's Been A Long Time, Old Friend (III)

[jediavengers]

Back with you ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Warnings: Fluff, mild angst, cliche

Pairing: Female!Reader x Anakin Skywalker

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: Anakin’s Jedi duties call him away, but being gone from you for too long sure isn’t easy.

Every time he left her, without a doubt, his heart would break. Every moment away from her was like tearing his heart apart, bit by bit, piece by piece. It may sound dramatic, but Anakin truly couldn't function if they weren't in the same place.

What really bugged him what that he couldn't even show it. He couldn't show anyone that she was his. It tore him apart that their love was a secret.

The council sat in chairs around their meeting room, discussing an upcoming mission. Anakin was lost in his thoughts, fidgeting with the sleeve of his robe. He didn't realize that the council had addressed him, so he didn't budge out of his trance.

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan snapped, causing him to look around quickly. All of the council members stared at Anakin, scowls on their faces. "Did you hear anything we've been discussing?"

"No- I mean, yes! Yes, I heard everything." Anakin stuttered, blinking quickly. Everyone looked at him frustratedly, shaking their heads in utter annoyance.

"Then you're aware that you'll be going on the mission to Alderaan tomorrow." Obi-Wan stated, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back in his chair.

Anakin internally groaned. He'd been on mission after mission and had been exhausted for weeks. "Yes." He replied, sighing.

"Good. You will be addressing the monarchy about ways of protecting the royal family, since there has been threats of assassination." Obi-Wan continued, a stern look spread across his face. "But you already knew that, since you were listening."

"Of course." Anakin replied, nodding slowly.

The council was dismissed soon after, Anakin speeding out of the room quickly. It hurt him that he wasn't with Y/N, so he left as quickly as he could.

Anakin quickly tread to their quarters, wanting nothing more than to have time with her. He opened the door, slamming it shut behind him. His bad mood was obvious to anyone that knew him, so he figured having time with just the two of them would help him calm down.

Anakin walked to their bedroom, standing in the doorway just to see Y/N folding his laundry for him. He hated when she did that. Not that he didn't appreciate it, but he didn't want her to do his chores for him.

Y/N didn't sense him, so she continued folding laundry. Soft music played in the background, causing her to quietly hum and bob her head. She turned to go place the clothes in the dresser, but was met with a smiling Anakin leaning in the doorframe.

"Ani!" She exclaimed, setting the clothes back down on the bed before running to him and jumping into his arms.

"Hello, my love." Anakin whispered, wrapping his arms around her. She buried her face in his neck, breathing in his scent.

"You're back early." She commented, pulling her head away so she could stare into his ocean blue eyes. Her smile was bright and excited.

"I couldn't stay away from you for too long." He teased, brushing a piece of hair out of her eyes. Anakin looked down sadly before sighing. "I have bad news."

"What is it?" Y/N hesitantly asked, already guessing what it might be. Her smile faltered and her eyes looked down.

"I have to leave for a mission tomorrow. I'm going to be gone to Alderaan." He spoke softly, gently caressing her cheekbone with his thumb.

Y/N frowned, looking away. She didn't reply, causing Anakin's heart to break. He knew she hated when he left. Plus, he barely got back from his last mission.

"I'm so sorry, darling." Anakin whispered. He gently tilted her head with his fingers to make her look at him. "I'll be back as soon as i can."

"Promise?" Y/N quietly replied, staring up at him. Her lips were pulled into a sad frown, causing Anakin to sadly sigh.

"Of course. I promise you, I'll be back before you know it." He promised, giving her a small smile to lighten the wound that was created. Their lips softly met, Anakin pouring all the love he had in his heart into the desperate lip lock.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Anakin wasn't back before she knew it. In fact, it had been two months. Two whole months. Y/N could barely function without him. Her nights consisted of her arms desperately wrapped around his pillow and sleepless tosses and turns.

Her food was barely touched, causing her friends to become extremely concerned. Her job as a mechanic made her get out of the apartment, but if it weren't for that, she knew she'd be in bed all day.

Anakin was just as much of a mess as she was. He barely slept, barely ate. He knew his attachment to her was unhealthy, but he didn't care. She was his everything and he wanted nothing more than to be with her every moment of every day.

The mission on Alderaan somewhat distracted him, but it wasn't enough for him to get Y/N out of his mind. His thoughts were almost constantly on her, which caused much distraction.

The royal family was very welcoming to Anakin, Ahsoka and the few clones that tagged along, which they all greatly appreciated.

As welcoming as they were, he still counted down the days till he could get on his ship and get the hell out of there. The incessant flirting from servants and the princess caused Anakin to miss Y/N even more, if that was even possible.

When they were able to be together, Y/N would get extremely jealous very easily. He missed the way her nose would scrunch and her neck would get red in anger. He missed the way her hands would ball into fists, and he especially missed her complaining to him afterwards. Anakin loved how protective she was over their relationship.

Anakin wanted nothing more than to call Y/N on the holopad, but he knew it was too risky. Obi-Wan had access to his call logs and recordings, meaning he would see his communication with her. They couldn't afford anyone finding out.

The day Anakin was informed he could leave the next morning, he was ecstatic. Y/N had no way of knowing when he would be returning, so he was excited to surprise her.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Anakin's arrival back to Coruscant was smooth and quick, which provided a sense of relief to him. It would only be minutes until he saw her.

He didn't bother speaking to anyone before rushing off the ship. He clasped a small bag in his hand, excited to give Y/N something to make up for his absence.

Anakin rushed to their quarters, entering quickly. As he made his way to their bedroom, a bright smile was on his features. When he arrived to their room, his heart broke at the sight.

Y/N was curled in a ball on their bed, his pillow tightly in her arms. He noticed small tear stains on it, causing him to sadly frown.

Slowly, he walked to their bed, placing the bag on their nightstand before sitting on the bed. Anakin placed his fingers on her bare arm, caressing it gently. "Y/N, I'm home." He whispered, brushing a piece of stray hair out of her eyes.

Y/N's nose scrunched before she realized it was him. Once she processed that he was home, she quickly shot up. Her eyes were still puffy from crying. Immediately, she pounced on him, dragging him down so he was now laying down as well.

She snuggled into his side, clinging onto him tightly. "Two months. Ani, you were gone two months." Y/N whispered, sniffling.

"Shh, I know, my love. I know." He whispered, pulling her closer and running his fingers through her messy hair. "I'm back now, that's all that matters."

Y/N's head sat on his chest. Hearing his heartbeat was a sweet melody, causing all of her previous sadness and anxiety to melt away. "Why were you gone so long?" She whispered.

Anakin sighed, massaging her scalp softly. "The council needed me to do a few other things on Alderaan while I was there. We also had to stop somewhere else for an emergency mission."

Y/N huffed, shutting her eyes. "I missed you so much, Ani."

"I missed you too, darling." He whispered sadly, leaning down to press a small kiss on her forehead. "I have a surprise for you." He pulled away, reaching over to the nightstand to grab the bag he had brought. "For you." Anakin smiled down at her, handing her the small bag.

Y/N slowly sat up, opening the bag. She pulled out a small necklace, grinning excitedly as her eyes landed on the charm. It was the shape of a small star, a pink sapphire in the middle of it. "It's beautiful." She whispered, admiring the piece of jewelry in her hands.

"I thought you'd like it." Anakin grinned, sitting up as well. "Can I put it on you?" He asked, gesturing to the necklace.

Y/N nodded quickly, handing him the necklace before turning around so her back was facing him. Anakin gently brushed her hair out of the way, putting the necklace around her neck. He slowly clasped it before moving her hair back. She leaned her back into him as he finished.

Anakin kissed the top of her head, then placing his chin on her shoulder. "I'm so glad i'm back with you, my love."

[tossawary]

Watching the prequel trilogy all at once makes the differences in Obi-Wan's character from movie to movie even more apparent. Obi-Wan is barely in "The Phantom Menace" as more than "that guy who follows Qui-Gon around" until he kills Darth Maul. He gets surprisingly little character focus, interiority, development, etc., considering his major roles in the following two movies.

And then in "Attack of the Clones", Obi-Wan and Anakin spend most of the movie apart (again). His banter with Anakin is fun and I think not without affection, but can also be read as distracted and dismissive. Anakin says Obi-Wan is like a father to him and Obi-Wan goes to order a drink on the job, the timing of which I found funny as hell. Anakin's first real private conversation with Padmé has him unloading his frustrations with Obi-Wan (on this acquaintance he hasn't seen or spoken to in ten years, who is going through her own shit right now), telling the audience that Anakin personally finds Obi-Wan too distant and critical. So, like, Anakin's own flaws aside, it does look like maybe Obi-Wan was not in a good place to raise a child. (It doesn't help that Obi-Wan's reaction to the clone army in this movie is not more horrified for the poor (at the very least) indoctrinated-since-birth clone soldiers here. Like, uh, he (and the other Jedi) seems weirdly chill with that part in "Attack of the Clones".)

And then we reached "Revenge of the Sith" and, hm, I don't recall the exact context. After rescuing Palpatine from Grievous and killing Dooku, it looks like the war is going to end soon, and Obi-Wan takes the time to smilingly tell Anakin how proud he is, very warm and affectionate. And I had a "Oh, wow, who is this guy? Where did this come from?" moment, because this is NOT really the Obi-Wan we've seen in the past two movies. It's like Obi-Wan Kenobi abruptly came out of the Clone Wars with renewed emotional balance and a personal resolution to more freely express his positive feelings - a writing choice that makes the break-up, you know, actually hit harder when Anakin starts murdering everyone and tries to kill Obi-Wan.

Anakin's shit choices in these movies are still very much on Anakin, of course! But it is amusing to hold "You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!" up directly against "Obi-Wan Kenobi as Background Character #1" and "exhausted and judgmental older brother, who wasn't ready to become the man of the house, has to go on a work trip again and he'll keep avoiding talking about your feelings when he gets back". It's an incredibly uneven and therefore unintentionally amusing to me depiction / execution of a main character.

[antianakin]

I think it's so funny that there's this widespread headcanon that Anakin loves droids and droids love him because it just... has no basis in canon. Anakin likes ONE DROID throughout all of the time we see him and that's R2. He barely manages to tolerate C-3PO despite having literally programmed him, and Padme treats C-3PO with more compassion and respect than Anakin generally does. When R2 is thought lost, Anakin treats the replacement droid like shit (yes, that droid ended up a spy but Anakin doesn't know that and that's not why he treats the new droid like shit). Anakin is also shown to be a lot quicker to mow down battle droids that aren't attacking him than Obi-Wan is. He's never shown actively caring about droids in general, just ONE droid. There's nothing to prove he cares about droids as a matter of principle, either, he just happens to like R2.

By contrast, the Jedi are often headcanoned as being dismissive of droids (and sometimes as dismissive of Anakin for caring about them), when there's multiple examples of this being untrue. Ahsoka obviously also likes R2 and considers him a friend, but she's just as quick to treat his replacement well and with the same level of kindness she gave to R2. Mace makes an offer of peace to the battledroids after THREE YEARS of battle with them. And of course then there's Master Huyang, who literally holds the rank of Master within the Jedi Order because they value his knowledge of lightsaber construction so highly, and all of the Jedi are taught to treat him with the respect that deserves and they initiates all work really hard to ensure that he ALSO makes it out of Hondo's attack alive and refuse to just leave him behind.

So I feel like we should be seeing fewer storylines involving Anakin being the only person who cares about droids and the Jedi chastising him for it, and more storylines involving the Jedi literally having to remind him to respect and care for other droids, yes, even if they're annoying sometimes, yes, even if they seem broken or useless, yes, the Force flows through them too even if it feels different.

[somethingsteff]

Political prompt!!

President Obi-Wan and political reporter Anakin get in a heated discussion in the press conference room that leads to some heated sex😏

Almost 2k words later and I bring you this little morsel! I had a ton of fun with this and really leaned into the West Wing vibes for it (I maintain that Charlie would make a great bodyman for President Kenobi). I hope you like it, friend!

Obi-Wan felt his nails dig painfully into his palms, but he was unable to release the tight fists. It was bad enough that someone had gone after a school - a school, children! - but for one of the press corps to accuse the administration of not investigating to their fullest potential. It was unfathomable. They had just received confirmation from a local health department that the recent string of illnesses at a Mandalore school district was from someone maliciously tampering with their water supply that morning. The federal government only just got asked to intervene. 

What more could Obi-Wan have done? He had immediately quarantined the buildings and dispatched a third party investigatory team to the site. He contacted the CDC and WHO for support in quick and effective treatment for all those who have been affected. Hell, he even asked his bodyman to compile a list of names and contact information so he could make calls to all the families, personally. 

All he could think about as he got each update was how easily it could have been Korkie, poisoned and in the hospital, if Satine hadn't brought him with her to Coruscant so she could be her best friend's Press Secretary. And now she was fending off accusations left and right by one man in particular. 

Anakin Skywalker.

Though he was a relatively new member of the press corps, he was well on the way toward making a name for himself. Obi-Wan had been curious about the curly-haired reporter himself. Now he was only gritting his teeth and wishing the boy would just shut up. 

“Does this administration have any excuses for why it's not taking action toward any of the suspected perpetrators?” Anakin's angry voice rang out through Obi-Wan's screen as he watched Satine deftly handle the angry man. Again. 

He couldn't handle it any longer.

Quickly navigating the hallways in the West Wing, Obi-Wan didn't notice the wave of people standing as he approached and sitting after he moved past them. He made it to the reporters’ bullpen at the back of the Press Room in record time, and instructed an aide to hold Skywalker off after the reporters were dismissed. He wanted to answer some of his questions personally.

A guard kept the reporters from streaming past Obi-Wan, instead guiding them toward another door and out of the room, but allowed Satine to approach him.

“Don't do anything you'll regret, Obi. He's just an angry kid, he doesn't mean anything by it.”

He couldn't bring himself to answer her, but did squeeze her hand as she walked away, taking comfort in her corresponding embrace.

“Mr. Skywalker,” Obi-Wan walked into the mostly empty Press Room and gestured for the remaining staff to leave them. “I hear you have some questions about the incident in Mandalore. Rather than letting you continue harassing my staff, I thought I'd give you the opportunity to ask me your questions directly. Off the record.”

Anakin's face didn't change when he saw Obi-Wan walk in, he hadn't expected it to, but at the mention of the school poisoning anger flared up in his eyes once more.

“Gee, thanks, Kenobi-”

“President Kenobi.”

“-I do have a few questions for you. But it really all boils down to one; why are you sitting on your ass instead of doing something about the attack?”

Obi-Wan had to fight not to outwardly bristle at the accusation that he hadn't done anything. “I assure you, we are doing everything within our power to get to the bottom of this situation.”

“‘Doing everything in your power’?” Anakin mocked. “Please! You're all twiddling your thumbs until you can get an optics report so you don't lose face in the election cycle.”

A muscle in Obi-Wan's jaw twitched, but he let Anakin keep going.

“I really expected better from you Kenobi, this shitshow-”

“Enough.” Obi-Wan didn't raise his voice, but he let all the ice he'd been feeling in his veins since this whole situation started seep into his tone. “I am the President, and regardless of what you think of my actions you will address me as such and with the respect that position deserves. You will cease calling me ‘Kenobi’, you will call me ‘Mr. President,’ ‘President Kenobi,’ or ‘Sir.’”

It appeared that Anakin wanted to interrupt, so he held out a hand.

“Now. I don't give a damn about optics, especially regarding an attack on children. What I do care about is completing this investigation and prosecution quickly, thoroughly, and with as little impact on the victims as possible. I will not let this become a media storm, and I will not stand for you accosting my staff.” He looked at Skywalker for a moment before coming to a decision. “Were you aware that Press Secretary Kryze is from Mandalore? No? Well, prior to moving out here after my confirmation her son went to that school. She knows many of the children and parents, and in all likelihood she and her son would have been directly impacted were she not out here.”

Anakin finally had the audacity to look ashamed, quickly gazing down at the floor and scuffing the toe of his dress show against the carpet. His cheeks were beginning to turn pink, and Obi-Wan realized his own face felt warm and his breathing had become heavy. Throughout his lecture he had become more and more riled up, letting his famed control slip just a fraction, and it seemed to cause the boy in front of him to squirm.

Good.

While he took the time to catch his breath, Obi-Wan looked more closely at the reporter. He was fidgeting with the hem of his dress shirt - he vaguely recalled that it frequently became untucked as Skywalker used the edge to clean the lenses on his black-rimmed glasses - tugging it down lower and- oh.

Oh.

He was hard.

The thin slacks that fit snugly along thick thighs did little to hide the bulge that was now pressing along his inseam. Try as he might, there was nothing he could do to hide it from his President.

The silence finally stretched to its breaking point and Anakin looked up. His eyes were blown, pupils swallowing what Obi-Wan knew was a lovely shade of blue. “I'm sorry, sir,” he said in a small voice. “It won't happen again.”

Obi-Wan considered the stress he had been under for the past few days - really since he was sworn into office, but the additional stress of late hadn't been any help. With a deep exhale, he decided to test his luck and see if he couldn't partake in some stress relief while simultaneously ensuring this reporter really did learn his lesson.

He stepped closer to the young man, coming toe to toe and letting his breath fan across his face. “You're correct. It won't ever happen again. And we're going to make sure of that.”

Telegraphing his moves clearly so that Anakin could stop him at any time, Obi-Wan reached his hand out and cupped the nape of his neck, pulling their mouths together into a kiss that started chaste and quickly devolved from there.

Anakin let the older man's tongue slip into his mouth, submitting so beautifully, and followed his lead as Obi-Wan, President Kenobi, led him over to the podium at the head of the room. As quickly as the kiss had begun, it was over. Obi-Wan spun Anakin around and bent him at the waist, forcing him to brace himself against the podium with his forearms. 

“Now, darling, let us see if we can really drive this lesson home.”

Obi-Wan reached around and unbuckled the reporter's belt before opening his fly and pulling his trousers and briefs down to mid-thigh. 

He trailed one hand up the prone body before him and traced the plush lips. “Suck,” he said directly into Anakin's ear and felt the responding shiver as the younger man eagerly pulled the digits into his mouth. “That's a good lad.”

Thoroughly coated in saliva, Obi-Wan pulled his fingers back and let them fall to trace along the rim hidden between the perfect globes of Anakin's ass.

“Now relax,” he breathed as he slid one finger in to the knuckle.

Anakin's body quickly adjusted, and soon the single digit was joined by one, two, three more until Anakin was a panting, quivering mess. 

“Please, Mr. President. I'm ready, I'm, uhn, ready.”

“Very good, darling.”

Despite his blood supply diverting to his aching cock, Obi-Wan quickly undid his own slacks and pulled himself out of the ever-tightening confines. He spit in his hand and slicked up his own length before pressing the head against Anakin's loosened hole.

“Are you sure you want to do this, dear one?”

“Yes, Mr. President. I want you. Please.”

Obi-Wan slowly pushed in and immediately felt a glorious heat surround him. It was addicting, and he found himself hoping he could have this again and again. Once he was fully seated he paused, waiting for Anakin to adjust to his formidable size. Only when he felt Anakin's hips push backward, trying to fuck himself on the cock filling him, did he start thrusting.

Soon the only sounds in the room were the obscene slap of their hips and Anakin's constant gasps and moans.

“President Kenobi, I'm gonna-” Anakin's sentence cut off with a moan.

“That's it, darling. Can you come like this?”

Anakin nodded and Obi-Wan increased his pace, frantically slamming into the body beneath his hands. As he looked down to watch his cock disappear into the reporter - his reporter? - he shifted his grip on those glorious hips so that he could dig his thumbs in and pull those plush cheeks apart. The slight jostling must have changed their positions just enough because Anakin let out a long and wordless groan, his arms giving out beneath him. 

Obi-Wan continued to punish the younger man's prostate, chasing his own orgasm as much as he was his partners, when he felt muscles tense beneath his hands and around his length, Anakin letting out another cry as he spilled across the podium.

It only took one, two, three more frantic pumps before Obi-Wan felt his own release crash over him, hips stuttering as they worked to push his seed deep into his partner's willing body. When he finally felt the last dregs of his orgasm fade he let gravity pull his body on top of Anakin's on the podium, taking a moment to catch his breath before even contemplating slipping out of him.

“Thank you, Mr. President.” Though Anakin's voice was still a little shaky it sounded content and drowsy.

“I'm glad you've learned your lesson, Mr. Skywalker.”

He was forced out of Anakin as the younger man stood straighter and turned around. “I don't know, Mr. President. I'm a pretty slow learner. I might need another lecture.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but straightened them both up nonetheless and led the infuriating reporter over to the Residence. He had a feeling it would take more than one more lecture and he found he was very amicable to the idea.

[jessicas-pi]

📓📓📓

So originally I was gonna do 3, but this one got REALLY long, sooo....

May I present the Jedi Get Hitched AU?

I posted about it once before here (and it got FANART!!!!) but other than that I haven't said much of anything else, soooo... here's more! and it's ENORMOUSLY self-indulgent.

The basic premise of the AU is that the clone wars end happily except the clones don't have rights but the Jedi find a loophole that will make them recognized as sentient citizens if one of them marries a Jedi, cue Aayla kicking open the door to the jedi council with bly in tow like I VOLUNTEER

ANYWAY. bly and aayla get married (they both freak out about it and Fox and Quinlan respectively have to give them pep talks before the wedding.) All seems well... and then Anakin saunters into the Jedi Council room one day and brings up that now that they're getting married (it was a one time thing, skywalker--) NOW THAT THEY'RE GETTING MARRIED, maybe they should consider that perhaps it would lower political tensions if a Jedi married, like, a senator or a planetary ruler or something. and the council is all like 🙄 skywalker we know this is just about you and senator amidala and he's like what??? haha no, i was talking about obi-wan and duchess satine. but while we're on the topic, i could definitely marry senator amidala too. she just adopted those twins and i could help raise them. they're force-sensitive, what a crazy coincidence amiright?? and plo and shaak are just lowkey planning their wedding and subsequent adoption of All Their Sons and mace. mace wants a break. please.

fast forward in time. Several more jedi have gotten married. Mace has retired from the council, citing "an excess of tomfoolery and nuptials" as his reason. Anakin married Padme, Obi-Wan married Satine and they officially adopted Korkie as their son, and Quinlan Vos and Asajj Ventress got married. Vostress is also currently running a jedi-nightsister exchange student program...

...which is how Merrin, 16 and slightly awkward but eager to learn more, ends up in the Jedi Temple, with a few other Nightsisters, though they're all a few years younger than her. Cal is assigned to give them the tour.

"Welcome to the Jedi Temple!" he says, holding one hand out to her and the other hand waving around them, indicating basically the whole jedi temple. it's supposed to be just a gesture, but then Merrin puts her hand in his. Completely seriously. Cal is like "...okay" and they hold hands for the rest of the tour.

Five years later, there is a second jedi-nightsister wedding.

Jocasta is delighted at the number of records being set within her lifetime.

(Jocasta is also officiating all the weddings, btw.)

A couple years after Mace resigns from the council, he decides to plan a shatterpoint lineage family vacation. So Mace, Depa, Grey (who is an unofficial part of their family), Caleb, and Caleb's brand-new Padawan, 11-year-old Ezra (who is pretty young to be a padawan, but he was following caleb around all the time anyway so caleb figured he might as well just make the apprenticeship official), all pack up... and go to Ryloth.

Caleb, who twenty-five at this point, promptly gets his first crush.

Mace Regrets This Vacation. He's actually started seeing marriage Shatterpoints. Depa and Grey, meanwhile, think it's really really funny that Caleb gets flustered around Hera, and Ezra has made more than a few insinuations about political alliances via marriage. Depa warns him that Caleb will get his revenge, but Ezra dismisses it. (Said revenge does come about, several years later, in the form of Caleb asking if Madame Nu needs to prepare to officiate the second Jedi-Mandalorian marriage in recorded history. Ezra kicks him in the shin. smh padawans these days just have NO respect for their masters.)

Ezra highly encourages Caleb to marry Hera.

It does not take much convincing.

[translucent-sun]

Another week later, Cody had made considerable progress in his defenses. His training had been paired with meditation, teaching him how meditation during battle can be difficult but helpful, and with each day, Cody became better, faster at it. With each day it became easier to summon the Force within him, to dive into it and let himself be guided.

He wasn’t sure what Obi-Wan had planned next. They were on their way farther out into the desert, wandering for quite some time now. When Cody had asked Obi-Wan why they didn’t take the Eopies, he’d only answered that we was worried they might get startled. Why, he hadn’t told him. 

Interesting. 

The entire hike he kept wondering what it could possibly be that Obi-Wan had in mind, but with no success. He shook his head, trying to suppress a smile as he thought about all the times Obi-Wan had done this before, refusing to explain things as though they were some big surprise that would be spoiled if he did. Cody could guess the answer when they finally reached a rocky field – debris of varying sizes that must have broken off the nearby canyons, carried here despite their heavy weight by the wandering dunes. 

“There are smaller ones over there, we’ll start with those,” Obi-Wan said without turning, without facing Cody, seemingly knowing that Cody had figured it out. Cody could almost feel his grin without seeing it. 

“It makes no difference, really, neither have any real weight within the Force, but usually it’s easier to start with objects that are perceived to be lighter.”

“Maybe I should start with sand, then,” Cody joked. Or it was supposed to be a joke, though he worried it might have been more deadpan than intended. 

Now Obi-Wan turned. “Sand works as an entity. It’s a lot more difficult to focus on a grain of sand, or even of a collection of them, than it is to focus on a rock.”

“Alright," he said, clasping his hands. "I don’t think I’m ready for this yet.”

Obi-Wan cocked his head and considered Cody for a moment. “Yes, you are.” There was really no room to argue in the tone he said it, soft but stern. Obi-Wan wouldn’t do this if he wasn’t sure, and besides, so far Cody had mastered all the tasks he’d been given. But this – this felt different. This felt big. 

Meditating could easily be dismissed as auditory hallucinations if you didn’t want to believe in it; not more than what he heard in his nightmares. The way he feels his targets in their defense training could just be his natural instincts. Most of his brothers had those, they’re soldiers after all. But making rocks fly? It felt like he was stepping into strange territory, the thought of it alone, of the possibility that he would be able to do this, felt so unreal that he had to force his mind to picture it. 

He realized that it must have been a while when he noticed a funny look on Obi-Wan’s face – something between worry and wonder, wanting to say something but not interrupt his thoughts. Only when he seemed to notice that Cody was back did he continue. “You doubt your abilities, but I can feel how strong the Force is in you. You’re suppressing it, which in turn makes it feel weaker to you than it is.”

Cody sighed. “It’s just all so new to me.” 

Already moving again, walking further into the field of rocks, Obi-Wan called back, “that’s why we’re taking it slow.”

“You call this slow?” Cody laughed, hurrying after Obi-Wan. “A month ago I didn’t know I had this ability, and today we’re going to lift rocks with our mind,” he teased, wiggling his fingers in the air as he spoke. Obi-Wan chuckled softly.

“You’re making it sound like magic.”

Cody considered him for a moment. “Well, isn’t it?” He didn’t get a reply–not in words. 

Instead, the ground around them began to shake. It only lasted seconds, then the first rock lifted out of the sand, a second and third followed quickly after. Loose sand was trickling off them, the rules of gravity only broken for the rock itself. Cody had seen him and other Jedi do this trick countless times, with objects much larger, but he couldn’t help but watch in awe, his mind trying to make sense of it once again. Obi-Wan still stood with his back towards Cody, with no visible strain in his body, his shoulders relaxed.

“It is no magic,” Obi-Wan finally said. “But the power of your mind.” The rocks fell back to the ground with a hollow thump. “Your turn, I will guide you,” he added with a grin as he turned around.

“This one,” Cody said after a while. Obi-Wan had made him pick a rock and joined him on the ground, crossing his legs beneath himself.

“Alright. We will start with plain old meditation, the same way we’ve been practicing.” 

Cody had gotten quite good at navigating within the realms of the Force, at seeing through the flood of emotions and seek what he needed. And yet, this felt new. 

“Call upon the Force. Let it flow through you.” Cody felt Obi-Wan’s gaze on him. He focused on his task, and slowly but surely, he could feel it. He could manage it. “Ready?” Obi-Wan asked. Cody nodded. “Open your eyes and focus on the rock you chose. Lift your hand towards it.” Cody did as he was told.

“Exert your will on it. Feel as though you were physically touching it, taking it into your hand and lifting it off the ground.”

The rock started to vibrate, ever so slightly, barely noticeable if one wasn’t paying close attention. Cody pressed his eyes shut in concentration, almost feeling the rock’s rough surface in the palm of his hand, feeling its shape, its heat. He opened them with a gasp before sinking into himself, a bone-deep exhaustion suddenly taking over, physically as well as mentally. He shook his head, unable to voice what he wanted to say.

“You did great,” Obi-Wan encouraged him. “You made it move on your first try, that’s impressive, to be quite honest.” Cody glanced up at him, even the small movement taking too much effort. “It’s common to feel exhausted. Younglings have lost consciousness after levitating their first object,” he said with a chuckle.

“I’m not a youngling and I didn’t levitate anything, I barely made it shake,” Cody argued, but he knew he wouldn’t win.

“No to both, but you’re barely a month into exploring the Force, so don’t be so hard on yourself. We will try again tomorrow.” Why did he always have to be so damn convincing?

“Fine,” Cody exhaled. “But we will either take the rock home or find something closer. I’m not walking out here just to not make it fly.”

Obi-Wan chuckled, rising to his feet and extending a hand to help Cody up. 

“Fine,” he said in mock-defeat. Cody did not expect him to pick up the rock and stow it away in his bag. He must have noticed his confusion, because he explained, “you’ve gotten familiar with it now, with the way the rock feels when you reach out to it with the Force. It would be a shame to put that to waste.”

With a sigh, Cody took the bag from Obi-Wan and swung it over his own shoulder.

[thegingerwrites]

i'd wanna be next to you

obikin, pre-relationship flying lessons, lots of fluff,

This is a warm up that has been sitting in my drafts for a while, slowly getting out of hand 😅 Here is Obi-Wan and Anakin learning to fly together just before the start of the Clone Wars. Obi-Wan is learning to see Anakin as a partner and a friend and Anakin learns that his former master cares more for him than he realized.

Also on AO3 here.

"Wait, you want to fly? With me?" Anakin asks.

"Essentially, yes."

"The Council's asking you to fly with me?"

Obi-Wan shakes his head. "Not exactly. We skipped over most of the flight exercises in your training because you had already proven your proficiency. With the coming war, the Council has asked both of us to put some time in on the new fighters. I thought we could go together."

"Even though you're not technically my master anymore."

Anakin doesn't mean the words to hurt, it's more of an observation than anything. A reminder, to both of them, that things have changed.

"Perhaps you can teach me a thing or two.”

Anakin grins.

After obtaining the proper clearances, Obi-Wan and Anakin head up into Coruscant's upper atmo in the new Aethersprite starfighters. Anakin has flown ships during his training, he has flown nearly every mission he and Obi-Wan have been on over the course of his training, but it has been a long time since he's flown something like this. The Aethersprite is sleek, streamlined. It isn't built for cargo or long-haul trips. It is made for speed, stealth, precision. The craft fits around him like it was made for him and Anakin can't wait to see what makes it tick.

"I thought we could run some simulations, work on some new formations," suggests Obi-Wan. "Eventually, we might be able to teach them to the clones."

His voice comes through Anakin's headset slightly tinny and distorted but Anakin can hear him almost amplified through the Force. It's like Obi-Wan is here in the cockpit with him.

"Sounds like a plan, Master," Anakin agrees. "But let's put these fighters through their paces first."

With those words as the barest of warnings, Anakin gives the signal to Artoo and they press the engines as hard as they can go. He leaves Obi-Wan in less than a second, quickly disappearing from view. They're too close to Coruscant to fly near anything interesting. No Beggars Canyon and the like to test the craft's maneuverability but there are ships out here, star destroyers awaiting orders and crew members. They're stationed too far above the surface of the planet to be seen. On the streets of Coruscant, you could almost forget that the Republic has just entered a war.

Anakin heads for one of them. So what if there are likely new regulations about airspace? This is a new galaxy. Anakin is a general. Surely he can still fly wherever he wants so long as he is too fast to be caught. And in this baby? He isn't sure anyone can catch him.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan says over their comms. "Are you quite finished messing around yet?"

He can't see Obi-Wan, wonders if his master can see him or at least track his general direction using his scanners or the Force. Anakin flies in close to the viewports on the stern of the star destroyer, so close he thinks he can see clone troopers marching inside.

"I haven't even started."

He loops around the ship. Artoo picks up a couple of nasty comms but quickly dismisses them, sending their clearance codes and little else, before heading off on their way. They pass a squadron of fighters sent out on a training bout, the same thing that Anakin and Obi-Wan are out here doing really, only far less amused by pilots going rogue.

Eventually, Obi-Wan finds him and they circle up on each other, flying a steady path in orbit around Coruscant.

"Why did you want to fly anyway?" Anakin asks over the comms. He's grinning and breathless, just from the sheer exhilaration of being in the cockpit of something so fast again. He has done some podracing on the lower levels in his time as a padawan, but while the narrow streets provide a heady rush of excitement and danger, there's something about being able to fully turn the engines loose in the wide expanse of space. "You hate flying."

"I wanted to test out the new Aethersprites, get a sense of their capabilities before they become the standard ship for Jedi in this war."

Anakin runs his hands over the steering controls of his ship. "You mean we're going to be assigned these ships?"

"The Council signed off on the decision a few days ago."

Obi-Wan has them make several passes in tandem. They fly near the star destroyers, as it's easier to perform maneuvers with a point of reference in common. They work on flying as close together as possible, wings mere inches from each other. When Anakin pushes his fighter harder, Obi-Wan does the same, feeling the instincts of the other through the Force.

They work on fighter passes, running drills as though they are enemy combatants. From parsecs apart, they come at each other and separate in the blink of an eye with a hairsbreadth between them. The precision and timing, the anticipation of it, lights something up inside Anakin.

"Okay," Anakin says, coming back around again. "Let's form up and try something like this."

He doesn't have the words for it, just projects a mental image of the maneuver he has in mind to Obi-Wan. Anakin is good at this, exceptional and he knows it, but Obi-Wan is right, he doesn't have the formal training some of the other Jedi and the clones will have. It isn't either of their faults really. Anakin's skills were going to be more than good enough for the life of a Jedi. No one anticipated the need to learn military flight maneuvers.

"Why would we ever need to do something like that?" Obi-Wan asks, joining Anakin off of his port side, close enough that without the void of space, Anakin could probably hear his voice in the cockpit.

Anakin shrugs. "Spinning's a good trick."

In his mind’s eye, he can see Obi-Wan shaking his head. There's a smile on his face though. It's a foregone conclusion that they'll at least give Anakin's idea a try.

“Fine,” Obi-Wan concedes. The line their two ships up on each other’s wings, Anakin on the left and Obi-Wan on the right. The wingtips are mere inches apart, so close it sends a thrill through Anakin even though flying in a straight line is something a droid can do. “On my mark. Three…two…”

At the signal, Anakin maneuvers his ship into a roll at speed in time with Obi-Wan. The feeling of perfect synchronicity sings through him in the Force. The durasteel bodies of their ships nearly kiss with how close they are but because Anakin can feel Obi-Wan—so connected to him even with space and speed and transparisteel to separate them—it’s like Anakin can hear Obi-Wan’s heart beating in his chest. Amplified, perhaps, because it beats in time with his own.

They ease out of the movement together, their ships once again aligned wing to wing. “Woohoo!” Anakin shouts and Obi-Wan’s laugh crackles over the headset.

“Again?” Obi-Wan asks and with that they are off, tumbling through space in a series of spirals and turns, ever increasing in their difficulty and flamboyancy. There is no reason anyone would ever need to fly like this. Anakin and Obi-Wan race past each other and past the fleet ships stationed in orbit around Coruscant at breakneck speeds, pushing their ships to their utter limits and getting a feel for what they can really do. Anakin’s Aethersprite feels like an extension of his body, in a way that he has ached for, for years.

They race to a planet not far from Coruscant where the Grand Army of the Republic has established their barracks and dockyards. Coruscant itself is far too populated to accommodate the airspace and acreage on the ground for an army base and so the GAR has had to spread out into the system.

The two of them dip their fighters into atmo and Anakin feels his ship automatically adjust to the planet’s gravity. The transition is almost seamless but the new weight gives him a greater sense of his speed.

Flying like this gets Anakin’s heart racing. While he loves the acrobatics of space flight, nothing beats the adrenaline rush that comes from navigating tougher conditions. Here when they fly wing to wing, they have to account for wind and weather. When they bank their turns or maneuver their ships into a dive or a climb, they have to fight the pull of gravity that wants to knock them off course.

At first, Obi-Wan is more hesitant, using his skill to face off against the unseen and as yet unknown enemy of g-force, but he gets his bearings soon enough. He calls out formations and positions, getting them both used to the kinds of call signs they are going to need to communicate with their men. Some of it is familiar, from basic flight training, but the rest of it is new. Anakin struggles to imagine a scenario in which he is going to need to execute a “hesitation roll” or a “tuck-over roll” but he learns them anyway. He and Obi-Wan begin building longer maneuvers out of those composite positions and a thread of amusement sparks across their bond as they begin calling out commands and positions, testing their reaction time and synchronicity.

When their Aethersprites line up wing-to-wing, the Force sings with how right it feels.

They fly for hours, feeding off of each other’s energy—Anakin, almost dizzy with the sheer delight of speed and swiftness after going so long without, and Obi-Wan, flush with the challenge of keeping up with him, the puzzle of figuring out just how far and fast these machines can go.

When they finally touch back down at the Temple, Anakin leaps from his cockpit breathless and grinning. The longer bangs of his grown-out padawan cut stick to his forehead a little with sweat. He is there on the ground waiting when Obi-Wan climbs out of his starfighter.

“That was incredible,” Anakin says, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. “It’s been ages since I’ve flown like that and you—”

Anakin has flown with Obi-Wan before, watched him navigate strange planets and asteroid fields and Coruscanti traffic. He has never seen Obi-Wan fly like that before.

“You were amazing,” Anakin continues. “Where did—how did you—?”

The questions cling to his tongue but he has no way of asking them. No way of reconciling the exhilaration of flying with his master only moments ago with the person who tries to obey speed limits even when running for their lives.

But when he looks at his master, senses what little he allows to escape his shields, Anakin sees that he is just as exhilarated. Just as breathless and excited as Anakin, though he wears it beneath a calmer exterior.

“You loved that, didn’t you?” he asks his master instead.

“Excuse me?”

“Flying. You always get so bent out of shape whenever we fly anywhere. I thought you hated it but that’s not true, is it?”

In answer, Obi-Wan looks down and away. “I don’t hate flying, no.”

“Then why—”

“It’s easier when I do it myself. I don’t get nauseous or uneasy. Piloting the ship and knowing what is going to happen next lessens those effects somehow.”

“Oh.”

Now it’s Anakin’s turn to look somewhere else. Because if that’s the case, then why didn’t Obi-Wan ever say anything? Why let Anakin fly every mission while sitting there beside him in obvious discomfort when there was clearly a simple fix?

Anakin is about to ask—he has to know. Because he can’t come up with an explanation that makes sense. His master loves to fly. Clearly does. And yet he takes the co-pilot’s seat every mission without fail. They move into position without thinking. The roles natural to them after years of being at each other’s sides.

Obi-Wan claps Anakin on the shoulder before they make their way out of the hangar. His hand solid and steady as though to wrest control over the flight of Anakin’s emotions. “It isn’t a big deal. I manage just fine in the copilot’s seat, as you well know.”

“But you love it,” Anakin says. Perhaps the part that is most difficult for him to understand. He can’t imagine giving up flying for anyone. If he had to sit quiet in the copilot’s seat watching someone else move too slowly or treat the ship poorly, Anakin would mutiny.

“I do,” Obi-Wan admits, something Anakin never thought he would hear and yet undeniable after the flying they just did. “But not as much as I know you do.”

Anakin’s face colors and when Obi-Wan moves to leave the hangar, it takes him a second to follow.

Obi-Wan says that like it isn’t a big deal. Like it means little to him that he chooses to suffer from flight sickness even though there is an extremely simple solution, all because Anakin likes flying. Like that is the natural thing for him to do when it is anything but.

Anakin jogs a little to catch up to his old master and forces himself to let it go. Not forget—no, Anakin will think about this conversation and its repercussions for many nights to come—but move on. Because it is clear that Obi-Wan thinks there is nothing more to be said, like this should be obvious to him, and Anakin is eager to get more out of him by any means necessary. Obi-Wan has just admitted to something like caring for him, wanting to see him happy, and perhaps that should be obvious to Anakin, but he has never felt so much like he had the evidence of it there in his hands, something that he could point to until now.

The thought warms him from the inside out, makes him want to do something reckless like try to hug Obi-Wan even as it makes him want to keep his distance. Because the idea of his master being fond of him is so fragile and tenuous a concept that Anakin needs to be careful or else it might break.

Anakin and Obi-Wan walk in step, side by side, and Anakin lets their shoulders brush every now and again. When Obi-Wan doesn’t pull away, he preens and decides to change the subject.

“They fly like a dream. I mean, there are a few things I could see myself changing. The thermal oscillator would run more efficiently if the fuel cell could redirect power intermittently rather than automatically. You would get a smoother ride out of it if you never had to fully wait for it to recharge—”

Obi-Wan laughs. “You can take that up with the technicians if you like but I’m sure you’d be much happier to make the changes yourself. For all intents and purposes, she’s all yours.”

“Wait, mine?”

“The starfighter will be stored onboard your star destroyer. You will have full discretion over its use.”

Anakin lets out a long, slow breath, forcing himself to slow down. The child in him has latched on tight to the idea of a starfighter of his very own while the adult—the <i>knight</i>—that he is falls sober at the reminder of the war ahead and all that it means for them. His blood sings at the thought of action, of taking to the skies and righting wrongs across the galaxy. At relaxing some of the strictures of the Jedi Code for the sake of saving lives.

He looks to his Master, with his eyes a little too wide, feeling for a moment like he is back in anti-gravity. Obi-Wan offers him a small close-mouthed smile and reaches out to link their hands as they walk. Even a few months ago, Anakin might have refused, might have shaken him off and insisted he no longer needed the kind of coddling he did as a youngling. But Geonosis changed everything. The galaxy is a new and terrifying place. Everything is different now. Anakin is different now.

“We have some time before all of that comes to pass. The Council wants to send us out on our first mission in a week’s time, hence the starfighter training.”

There are a number of things Anakin could latch onto in that sentence: the fact that he is going to war in a week, the fact that their hours of joyriding in new starfighters was somehow meant to be combat training. Instead, Anakin’s head rings with, “Us?”

For once, Obi-Wan looks…well, he looks a little embarrassed if Anakin had to guess at what that expression might look like on his normally composed Master. “Well, yes. Though I suppose if you want to be assigned separate missions, especially on our first time out, I could go and speak to the Council. The Force knows that there are countless battles to be fought—”

Anakin lets him keep going, staring at him like he has encountered a new kind of droid and can’t seem to figure out how it works just yet.

“But all of this is entirely foreign to both of us so I thought, at least for the first mission, it might be…beneficial to have each other close by. A team, if you will.”

Not Master and Padawan, but equals. Fellow commanders, each in charge of their own battalion of soldiers. Obi-Wan’s concern for how such a plan might be received is well-founded, so much so that even Anakin can spot from a distance just how poorly he might have taken the idea if it were presented any other way.

Except Obi-Wan has presented it to him like this, like Anakin has a choice. Like he wants this but is afraid there is a chance Anakin will turn him down. After a day spent practically inside each other’s heads and after finding out that Obi-Wan has essentially been torturing himself every time they have ever flown together all to make Anakin happy… No. There is no way that Anakin could refuse him.

But it isn’t as though Anakin is going to confess to the soft, molten feeling in his chest. “You’re just saying that because you know you’ll need me there to save your ass.”

“Just as you’ll need me there to save yours.”

Partners. Generals. Maybe even friends. Anakin could get used to this.

He grins. “Alright, old man. You’re on.”

[kingdomhate]

Halloween With Them Scenarios!

Anakin Skywalker: Anakin adored Halloween. He made that quite obvious when you both started your tradition of driving around Coruscant on the hunt for particularly good houses. It plastered that grin, that signature grin on his face damn near every time. And that in turn, made you smile that radiant smile that gave him butterflies.

Tonight was the 31st, Anakin sneaking away from the Temple after sunset, meeting you in the cozy palace of your home, and you both dressed in your costumes, and grabbed your bags, starting the hunt for the goods.

"So... I was thinking.." He spoke, slowly, looking around for house lights, indicating that trick or treaters were welcome. You perk up, looking over at him. Immediately you notice his mischievous little smirk. And you're slightly skeptical of what his next words are gonna be. "Oh?" You hum in acknowledgement, wanting him to continue. "I got a challenge for you.. We go to as many houses as possible. Get the most candy. Whoever has the least loses. Has to make a playlist for the other."

You raise your eyebrow; how oddly specific. But you smirk as well. "You're on." And you both are on the move, immediately. Anakin parks the cruiser and you both hop out, trick or treating as many houses as possible, hastily moving onto the next, and the next. An hour later, you both move back to the cruiser, your bags feeling as though a sizable rock has been dumped right into each one. It was difficult to carry. You sling yours onto your lap as you climb in, so does Anakin.

As you both arrive home, you are quick to empty the contents of your labor onto the floor, as does Anakin. The candy spills out, wrappers crinkling against each other as the mountains form. He looks at yours. You look at his. You burst out laughing. He was embarrassingly lacking half of what you had. "I knew it! About time I finally won a contest." Anakin scoffed and looked away. Watching as your eyes gleamed with delight at your little victory......

...Little did you know, Anakin gave half of his candy to the kids he had passed on his hunt.

Han Solo: Now he rarely, and I mean rarely found himself going out on this day, especially with the orders he was running with the Millenium Falcon. He found himself too busy to find the time to go out. But, you changed that.

"C'mon, it'll be fun!" You say in protest as he tells you no, for the 5th time that night. He shrugged you off as you clung to his arm. "God, Y\N, persistent, aren't ya?" He teases and you sigh. "Han Solo, you can take a few hours out of that god awful schedule of yours for me. Can't you?" You say those two last words quite loudly, expressing without words how insistent you were about this. Eventually, he gave up.

"Sure, princess. Whatever you makes you happy." He says, flashing you a grin, despite his seemingly dismissive words. As you exclaim in victory, he grabs you by your waist, and brings you in for a passionate kiss. Fiery. And you find yourself melting, before he pulls away. "On one condition.." You scowl at him, and roll your eyes. "Whaaaaat." He grins. "I'm not dressing up. And for every piece of candy I get... equals two kisses." You playfully shove him. "Aren't you just the cutest little negotiator." He laughs and walks beside you into your guys' makeshift bedroom, where you have your costume and respective bags picked out. "So.. what do ya say, sunshine?" He says, poking your head. "Yes. Now come on, jerkface." He brings his hand to the small of your back and led you both out and onto the streets.

You're in for a lot of kisses by the end of it, let me tell you...

Obi-Wan Kenobi: One of his favorite past times during spooky season, besides pumpkin spice lattes, was carving pumpkins. He was bundled up in a toasty coat, scarf and gloves, as he held your hand, looking over the many, many orange pumpkins, trying to decipher which ones were good and chunky enough to be waltzed back home. "Obi, come on. By the time you're done picking one, it'll already be summer." You exaggerate, feeling the chilly breeze of autumn overcome you in waves, leading to light goosebumps over your skin.

"Yes, yes, just one more second, my love." He said, waving you off with his free hand. You sigh, looking around at the decorations the market has, dropping your hand to your side as you gaze at what is in season.

You were looking at wreaths as Obi-Wan found you. "Here." He said proudly, as you gazed at two plump pumpkins. You smile. "Good job." You peck his cheek before gathering some candles and the carving kit. As you check out and arrive at home, Obi-Wan has gone into full concentration mode.

You follow after him, grabbing the design you both agreed on and beginning to carve and gut your pumpkin. It was an oddly therapeutic but at times frustrating process. Somehow, it all managed to come together, no matter how many trials and errors it produced. You wipe your forehead with the clean part of your arm, and crack your back, Obi-Wan smiled as he went to clean his hands and take off his apron. You again followed.

"Did you grab the lights?" He inquired, drying his hands off. You nod, taking a square or two of the paper towels. "They're on the table." You nod in the direction of the candles and he grabs them, flickering the lighter on and bringing awakening to the wicks as he settled them cozily into the center of the pumpkins. He balanced his as you both walked outside, placing them where you thought they looked best.

It always made Obi-Wan happy, and it was something that kept you both busy. The results were always worth the time and effort. And Obi-Wan certainly thought so.

.

.

.

.

[twinterrors29]

Codywan Sleeping Beauty AU

Obi-Wan gets hit with a Sith curse dooming him to die when touched by cortosis, a metal known to be used against Jedi and other lightsaber wielders

fortunately, the Council was able to find a way to transmute the curse by mixing it with another curse, resulting in the curse becoming 'sleep for many years' (due to the newly hybrid nature of the curse, it's unclear how many exactly or even if there is an exact number, but they get the sense that it'll be more than a decade) rather than straight up 'die' when he inevitably ends up coming into contact with cortosis

the wake-up condition is a classic one though: true love's kiss

Cody, however, hopes to be able to keep his general with him and their men for many more years, but knows exactly how unlikely it is that he'll still be alive when it's time to break the curse if they manage to hold it off for as long as he's going to try to, what with his double-rate aging

so he begs the Council to make one more amendment to the curse: that Cody will share Obi-Wan's fate, so that Obi-Wan won't have to spend all that time and then wake up alone

they find a way to grant his wish

another year goes by, and then it's time to face General Grievous on Utapau

after being disarmed, Obi-Wan knows the risk of ripping open Grievous' chest with his bare hands, but accepts it as the price for ending the war

it's Cody, who followed along, who takes the final shot into Grievous' exposed heart right before the curse can finish taking effect

in the immediate aftermath, the rest of the 212th are trying to figure out what to do with their unconscious general and commander, when Boga, wailing, gently snatches them both off and disappears into the caves leading out of the sinkhole

unequipped to follow her, they ask the locals, who suggest that the varactyl likely claimed them as family and took them back to her den

they'd just started searching for the den to try to bring their commanding officers home to the Temple when they got an unexpected comm from the Chancellor

and then the goal of their search changed from 'recover' to 'execute'

however, as they went to take another step into the tunnel Boga had disappeared down, they felt a strange rumbling

as they retreated toward the surface to escape the oncoming earthquake, they noted that the tunnel was rapidly caving in just ahead of where they'd been standing, leaving them without a clear path to finding their targets

the battalion spent another week searching the surrounding tunnels with no success; in fact, they estimate that it would take decades to search the tunnels leading out of that sinkhole alone, much less the connections to surrounding sinkholes

before they can settle into that task, the Emperor recalls their battle to Coruscant for reassignment, unwilling to waste resources on such a pointless endeavor

over the next years though, the Utai and Pauans noticed that a certain black specter would show up regularly to that same sinkhole, spending a few days at a time searching the tunnels

some even said that they heard furious screams coming from the area whenever he visited, but those were dismissed as rumors

more than a decade later, another set of visitors arrive

there are four of them, in a junky old freighter: a Wookie, his human partner, a blonde human boy, and a well-dressed human girl

they'd heard rumors about the specter's searches, and listened to the Pauan's recollections of the Jedi General and his clone Commander who supposedly had been entombed in the tunnels and never recovered

while the Wookie and the ship's captain loudly complain about the whole trip as they make repairs to the ship, the pair of younger humans start their own search for the lost Jedi

and crucially, they make the decision to hire out a varactyl to navigate the tunnels

one that reacts quite favorably to Luke Skywalker's and Leia Organa's presences

and immediately takes them to her family's nest deep underground

where a Jedi and Commander have been waiting many years for their niece and nephew (never known, but already loved) to wake them from their slumber