Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

The worst thing about sneaking around a slaver’s ship was, well, everything, Obi-Wan thought grimly.  He breathed out and assessed his position as best as he could in the dark of what appeared to be someone’s office. 

“This is such a bad plan,” Obi-Wan thought out loud, rubbing his beard. 

Across the room, R2 beeped from where he was plugged in to a computer console. 

“This is Padmé’s plan,” Obi-Wan replied a little offended at the droid’s suggestion their predicament was entirely his fault just because he hadn’t thought of anything better. 

R2’s response was succinct and rude.  Where he had picked up such language…Obi-Wan blamed Anakin.  Or maybe Quin.  Quin was a definite possibility…

R2 beeped.

Obi-Wan frowned.  “It’s eleven years since we got together, R2, and no; I do not get the same dopey look on my face when I think about Quin as Anakin does when he’s thinking about Padmé.”

R2 responded with a dry set of beeps which had Obi-Wan rolling his eyes.

“That’s enough of that, R2,” Obi-Wan sighed.  “We get enough hassle from Anakin and Aayla,” and Mace and Poof, “about getting married, we don’t need it from you too.  We’re perfectly happy as we are.” 

Marriage.  Relationships.  There was a satisfaction in knowing his own relationship had driven change in the Order.  Attachment and possessiveness were still forbidden, but love was encouraged. 

R2’s beeps sounded disappointed; it was disconcerting.

“Yes, R2, I’m sure you’ll make a fine ring-bearer one day,” Obi-Wan soothed softly.  “You never know – maybe one of these days, Padmé will stop thinking Anakin is still nine years of age and they’ll get married.”

Somehow, the pair staying in touch over the past decade had meant Padmé had never looked at Anakin as anything other than a friend.  It probably didn’t help that Padmé had a lot of hero worship for Anakin’s mother.

Obi-Wan shook his head. 

Who didn’t hero worship Shmi Skywalker, he thought brightly, because getting to know Shmi had been one of the best parts of his changing time. 

Well, slavers probably didn’t hero worship her which is why they were on the ship in the first place.

He motioned at the droid.  “Have you found where they’re holding them?”

The droid unplugged, spun around and displayed the ship’s schematic.

Obi-Wan winced.  The Corellian transport ship was as massive as his old ship, The Negotiator (Force but he missed that ship).  But hardly as well-maintained, he mused as he surveyed the grimy carpet of the office.

They were on the third level which had the majority of the operational rooms required to run a large ship; command bridge, communications centre, mess, med centre, computer server centre and offices.  Apparently running a slave operation required a lot of admin. 

The top level was given over to a penthouse suite affair for the slaver in charge of the ship, Marco Denturri.  In his past timeline, Marco had killed his older Bruno to take over the Denturri slave operation, only to be killed in turn by one of his slaves.  She had freed all the other slaves before throwing herself out of an airlock (or faking her death and living her best life somewhere – they never had been certain).

The second level had the barracks of the slave guards and ship crew.  Obi-Wan thought it best to give that whole level a hard pass.  The crew were mostly human, but the guards were most surely not.  The Denturri Syndicate used Rh’No warriors.  Their armour-like skin, forehead horn and combat scythes made them hard to fight.  They were also completely immune to Force suggestions. 

The fourth level was a mixture of two main hangar bays on either end carrying smaller transport crafts, with a slave processing centre and a security control room in the middle. 

The fifth level were the slave quarters complete with a prisoner brig – the heavily guarded and secured slave quarters because they were the merchandise.

The final level were the maintenance shafts, engine rooms and waste disposal.  Obi-Wan was hoping to avoid the latter.

R2 zoomed in on the prisoner brig.  Records displayed showed prisoners locked in cells to the back.  That had to be their targets.

“How are Quin and Aayla doing with Denturri?” asked Obi-Wan.  He didn’t want to distract Quin with a mental message.

R2 switched to an internal security system and displayed the scene from a different meeting room on the other side of the ship.  Quin was playing a slave owner and the newly knighted Aayla, his slave.  Both looked fine if bored by Denturri’s passionate sales speech.

Obi-Wan nodded decisively.  “Are you able to…”

Alarms blared.

Obi-Wan glared at R2.

R2 beeped furiously.

“Well, if you didn’t set the alarms off,” Obi-Wan demanded, “who…” he closed his eyes and hit his commlink.  “Anakin, tell me you didn’t leave our ship.”

“I didn’t leave our ship,” Anakin replied cheekily.

“And where are you really?” asked Obi-Wan, already moving to the large vent in the floor because getting out of sight was his first priority.

“I might be in the hangar security room,” Anakin admitted. 

“Because?” asked Obi-Wan as he Force dropped R2 into the vent system much to the droid’s dismay.  He leaped down to crawl into the space himself, pulling the vent cover back in place behind him.  At least R2 had head clearance, Obi-Wan mused idly in his uncomfortable crouch, as he waited for Anakin to respond.

“Mom needed a distraction,” Anakin replied.

Of course, she did.  And of course she had telepathically communicated such a need to her son.  She would have felt Anakin as soon as their ship had docked in the hangar.  The usual Force suppression mechanisms didn’t work very well on the Order of the Ashki for some reason, and once Shmi had her memories back, it had been a surprise to literally no-one that she was very strong in the Force in her own right.

:Quin, darling, Shmi might have changed the plan:

Amusement flittered through his bond with his lover along with reassurance that Quin and Aayla would roll with it.

Obi-Wan navigated an intersection and a drop down which R2 had zipped around.  It occurred to him he was blindly following the droid.

“Didn’t you tell her the plan?” Obi-Wan hissed into his commlink to his wayward padawan.  R2 beeped at him.

“It wasn’t a good plan,” Anakin protested

Obi-Wan sighed at a drop-vent R2 insisted they take; they dropped two floors to the fifth level. 

“It was Padmé’s plan!” Obi-Wan threw back as he landed.

“Padmé said to do whatever my Mom wanted,” Anakin said.

Of course she did.

Obi-Wan froze for a second as a horrible thought suddenly occurred to him.  “Padmé isn’t with you, is she?”

“Uh…” Anakin said.

Which meant yes, Padme was right beside Anakin because where else would she be?

“Got to go, Master,” Anakin said urgently.  “We have company!”

Obi-Wan swore as the comm went silent.   He started crawling faster.  R2 had paused in front of a vent ahead of him.

The beeps were almost too fast for Obi-Wan’s knowledge of binary, but he got the gist.  He was too slow and the vent would drop them right outside the prisoner brig.

Obi-Wan nodded.  He sensed that they were clear of anything sentient below, removed the cover and dropped R2 down first.  He followed, landing lightly on his feet.  He drew his lightsabre as he sensed something approaching the corner and spun and…

The first security droid went down under Obi-Wan’s strike.  The second shot a blaster at Obi-Wan who deflected it back, crippling the droid. 

R2 beeped his warning just as the Force sent its own…

More blaster fire came from behind him.  He whirled around and deflected it, swearing under his breath at the sight of three Rh’No.

R2 quickly moved away, zooming around the corner, beeping something about how someone had better return to the ship and prepare it for take-off.

Obi-Wan parried a thrust from a scythe, dodged a blaster shot with a flip, and took out the knees of one guard with a slide on the polished floor which left him in the middle of the remaining two.

He ducked one blow, jumped over another and managed to make Guard Two smash Guard Three in the head with his scythe killing him instantly.  Unfortunately the move was at the expense of leaving Obi-Wan’s left side exposed and…

Guard Two bellowed and moved and…

A sword slashed through the air.

Guard Two’s head bounced along the floor to join the legs of Guard One.  The rest of the body fell forward revealing Shmi standing behind with a sword dripping orange blood.  Her green TASLA uniform, very tight pants and jacket made of some kind of green lizard skin, showed a burn mark on the shoulder, but she seemed fine.

Shmi smiled at him as she wiped down her sword on a fallen body.  “Obi-Wan!  My favourite co-parent!  What are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you, clearly,” Obi-Wan said dryly.  He waggled his fingers by his head.  “Didn’t Anakin…”

“Karking Force suppression,” Shmi muttered.  “I could barely make contact with him from the cell, but I should have known you’d be with him.  Come on.”  She waved her sword and marched back towards the intersection she’d come from.

Obi-Wan followed her.

“Where’s Quin?” asked Shmi.

“Distracting Denturri with Aayla.”

“I didn’t realise the Jedi Council would send a rescue,” Shmi said, tucking a strand of brunette hair back behind an ear.  The rest of her hair was braided in an intricate up-do.

“We were in the area,” Obi-Wan said diplomatically, because the Council had not officially sent them.  There had been a lot of winking, nodding and Yoda cackling on the holocall.  

A clone appeared at her elbow, hair grown out to shoulder length and in the same uniform as Shmi, and glowering enough to make his buir, Jango Fett, proud.  “Sister Skywalker, we’ve secured the brig.  Pirate’s accessed the computer and sent the deactivation sequence to the slave chips.  Hooch is working on the doors to the slave quarters now.” 

Of course Shmi was rescuing the slaves in addition to escaping her captor. 

“Thanks, Fox,” Shmi said, patting his arm.  “You, Hooch and Pirate get everyone there into the transports.  I’ll stick with Master Kenobi and Anakin.  We’ll rendezvous on Tatooine.”

“Understood, Sister,” Fox cast a look at Obi-Wan which he translated as meaning Obi-Wan had better look after Shmi or Fox would track him down and kill him.

Obi-Wan nodded to show he’d gotten the message.

“This way,” Shmi yanked open a hatch with the Force, throwing the metal door down the corridor. 

A ladder was revealed and Obi-Wan sighed as Shmi stowed her sword into the scabbard on her back and began to climb.

He hooked his lightsabre back to his belt and followed her.  He had realised long ago that there had been a lot of Shmi in Leia Organa.  Passionate, fierce and driven.  Obi-Wan wasn’t about to argue with her.

He had no real idea what Shmi had been like as a slave on Tatooine having never met her; she’d sounded like a kind woman who’d raised Anakin to be a compassionate boy and had done her best to protect him regardless of their life in chains.  Rabé had escorted Shmi back to Ashki and Mother Ammi, the Head of the Order of Ashki, had healed Shmi of the Sith’s mind manipulations, returning her to herself. 

The glimpse Ghost Anakin had shown him of her laughing and playing with Anakin’s father on Ashki hadn’t really prepared him for the reality of a revitalised Shmi Skywalker turning up at the temple in Coruscant with a cadre of her fellow Order of Ashki Sisters and demanding to see her son. 

Once she’d been assured Anakin was fine and would remain with the Jedi, she had upended the Jedi Order’s policy on marriage and maintaining familial bonds with the help of Mace.  Jedi could fall in love and marry; they could have children; they could stay in touch with their families if they wished to do so.  All was fine so long as the Jedi put their duty to the Order and wider Republic, to the Force, first.

When she was done with that, Shmi had turned her attention to destroying slavery, founding The Alliance for Slavery Liberation Army.

Padmé had eschewed the Naboo Senate seat for joining the Alliance.

With his mother and the love of his life in the Alliance, and with its very clear anti-slavery purpose, Obi-Wan expected to lose Anakin to it any day.

“Where are we going?” asked Obi-Wan belatedly as they continued to climb.

“One of Denturri’s slaves gave us the information to escape,” Shmi said, “I’m not leaving her behind.”

Shmi provided an exit when they reached the penthouse level and they made their way down the corridor.

The ship rocked suddenly and violently.

:Time to leave, d’anshari:

Obi-Wan steadied himself.  He drew his lightsabre and Shmi drew her sword.  They made quick work of the Rh’No guarding a door. 

Shmi opened the lock with a flick of the Force and hurried inside. 

A woman was bound to a desk with a slave chain on her ankle.  Obi-Wan brought his lightsabre down on it, breaking the shackle apart easily.

“Onia,” Shmi moved to greet the woman as she got to her feet.  “Can you walk?”

“Yes, but if I could not, I would crawl,” Onia said, a thick accent coating her words. 

They hurried from the room.

Pounding footsteps gave away more approaching guards.  They ran for the hatch. 

“Onia, please hold onto me,” Obi-Wan said, stowing his ‘sabre. 

Onia put her arms around his neck and he gathered her close, and arm around her waist.  He jumped down level by level.  Shmi followed in his wake.

They exited at the hangar level, running for the ship.  Shmi kept Onia behind her and Obi-Wan took point, using his lightsabre to cut a swathe through the security droids which raced to intercept them.

Across the hangar, slaves hurried into two of the transports.  Obi-Wan spotted Quin and Aayla helping to carry children.

:Go.  We’ll meet you on Tatooine: He sent urgently to Quin.

Quin’s eyes met his briefly before he dived into one of the transports.

Onia gave Shmi a grateful smile and ran to the second ship, gathering a small girl into her arms on the way.  Aayla ushered her into the second transport.

Obi-Wan focused his efforts on defeating the remaining security droids, letting the transports get away cleanly. 

Their own ship powered up behind them as the transports took off.  The shield flickered on the open space door as the transports made their way through it.

Obi-Wan paused.  He couldn’t feel Anakin on the ship…

:Padawan?:

:Small problem, Master: Anakin sent from the hangar control room.

Obi-Wan looked up to the observation glass and grimaced.  Anakin and Padmé were barricaded in – Padmé had her blaster pointed at the two crew members who cringed away in a corner.

A flash of warning from the Force though had Obi-Wan aware that the couple were about to be overrun.  Even as he thought it, the door was blasted inward, a shot had the blaster in Padmé’s hand spinning away.

He watched as Anakin drew Padmé behind him, his lightsabre lit protectively in front of them both.

Denturri entered with a blaster, waving it threateningly.

“STOP!” Denturri yelled to them through the intercom.  “I WILL KILL THEM AS I SHOULD HAVE KILLED YOU, YOU WITCH, INSTEAD OF WAITING FOR HIM!”

Shmi lifted her hand and clenched her fist.  Her eyes were perfectly brown even as Denturri began to choke.  “Now, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan Force pulled the window away from the wall, allowing Anakin to grab Padmé and Force jump down to the hangar.

They all ran into the ship, deflecting blaster shots as they went, Denturri yelling incoherently in the background.

The ramp slapped shut.

Anakin went straight for the cockpit.  Obi-Wan followed him. 

R2D2 beeped at them complainingly.

“Yes, R2,” Anakin said tersely, “we’re leaving now.”

The ship lifted, spun and Anakin shot out the shield panel sending everything in the hangar hurtling towards the black.  He hit the acceleration lever and they were out of the slaver ship and in space.

Anakin quickly set coordinates and just as they went to hyperspace Obi-Wan sensed the slaver ship imploding somehow…

R2 whistled.

“Well done, R2,” Anakin said brightly.  He set the autopilot, grinned at Obi-Wan and headed out back into the main area of the ship.

Shmi got up from the table and hugged her son tightly.  She and Padmé had both dumped their uniform jackets aside to reveal skin-tight white tops underneath with round necklines and long sleeves.

“You know I’m sure Ani only had four limbs when we left the temple,” Obi-Wan quipped, rubbing his beard.

Shmi laughed as Padmé chuckled.  

Anakin didn’t even look at him.  “Ha ha, Master.”

Shmi eased back and Anakin disentangled himself.  Shmi cupped his cheek.  “You get more and more handsome every time I see you.”

Anakin blushed, his eyes darting everywhere but where Padmé sat watching the mother and son reunion with amusement.  “Mom!”

“You look so like your father,” Shmi sighed. 

“I do?” Anakin asked, surprised.  He’d confided in Obi-Wan that she rarely talked about his father despite the memories of her love affair with him being recovered.

Shmi nodded.  “He had lovely blond wavy hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and he was so tall.  You’re almost as tall as he was now.”

“I’m taller than Obi-Wan,” Anakin said delightedly.

Obi-Wan sighed.  “Do you have to keep telling everyone?”

“It’s only the truth, Master,” Anakin grinned cheekily, a hint of the nine-year-old slave he’d once been in his smile.

Shmi chuckled and moved to hug him.  He accepted her warm embrace and the soft brush of her Force presence with a smile.  Having Shmi in his own life was something he treasured.

“Thank you for rescuing me,” Shmi quipped, stepping back, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes as the others laughed.  “And thank you for rescuing everyone.”

o-O-o

Tatooine was a changed place.

Shmi’s revolution had taken three years and, at the end of it, the Hutts were gone and the planet began to rebuild.

Years later, Mos Espa was thriving as a trading post.  The hustle and bustle of the space port was chaotic, but it warmed Obi-Wan to see the newly freed slaves being helped by the Alliance members into their small building.  They’d receive medical treatment, including having their slave chips removed, before being told of their options which were many and varied.

Shmi and her political allies had done a good job in creating rehabilitation programmes for the Freed.

“Ani!”

A joyous shout across the hangar had Anakin turning with surprise just in time to catch the orange Twi’lek who threw herself at him.

“Lollo!”

Obi-Wan’s lips twitched as Anakin’s best friend from the crèche greeted him with a warm hug.  He glanced over his small group, checking on everyone surreptitiously and found Padmé viewing the reunion with a hint of jealousy in her pouted mouth and unhappy eyes.  She smoothed her expression quickly, but as Obi-Wan turned away, he met Shmi’s knowing gaze and knew she’d seen the same thing.

Shmi raised her eyebrows meaningfully and turned away with a satisfied smirk.

Obi-Wan shook his head, but he couldn’t deny there was a part of him which was also pleased that Padmé might have been jolted to realise there were other girls who knew and were interested in Anakin, even if he loved Padmé like she was the only girl in the universe and Lollo was more interested in Aayla than Anakin.

“Master Obi!” Lollo disentangled herself from Anakin to hug Obi-Wan in a slightly more restrained fashion.

“Lollo,” Obi-Wan greeted her cheerfully.  “How are you?”

“I’m doing great, Master Obi,” Lollo enthused.  “You should come to see the regeneration fields while you’re here!  It’s going great.  Master Specialist Ja’rl thinks we could have a crop next year!”

“If we have time,” Obi-Wan said.  “If not, we’ll come back and visit.”  He ignored Anakin’s grimace, knowing his padawan would rather avoid Tatooine.

Satisfaction licked through his veins as Obi-Wan contemplated the shake-up Plo had given the entire Jedi education system, enlisting EduCorp Director, Master Yehop in his revolution.

All of the Corps had become part of the crèche and Initiate curriculum in a way they hadn’t before.  Introductory courses which the Initiates had to take, followed by optional topics as they found their preferences. 

Lollo had ended up in the AgriCorps by her own choice.  She loved plants and she was excited at the idea of enabling planets to recover from environmental or sentient-made disasters and become self-sustaining again. 

There was still fierce competition to become padawans and follow the path of a Knight, but Masters and Padawans went through a rigorous probation period to ensure their relationship was solid and healthy.  He and Anakin hadn’t been exempt from it.

For all that many things that had changed in the ten years since his arrival in the timestream (that he had changed), it seemed the will of the Force remained the same where some things were concerned.

After three years in the Initiates, Anakin had turned up in Obi-Wan’s room with his favourite tea and cake.  He had laid out a very well-reasoned argument on why Obi-Wan should take Anakin as a Padawan, and why Obi-Wan would be a good Master for Anakin.  It was an excellent argument.  It was also a very excellent cake.  Obi-Wan had congratulated Anakin on his improved debating skills and conceded with the formal words of an offer to teach Anakin as his Master. 

Obi-Wan smiled thinking of how he’d teased Anakin with the prospect of the traditional haircut Qui-Gon had made him wear when he’d tied Anakin’s padawan braid.  He had stuck with tradition the last time, but he was less rigid now and Anakin had appreciated keeping his curly dark blond waves.

Quin had almost peed himself laughing.

Obi-Wan felt his own cheeks heat a little at the memory. 

Anakin shot him a questioning look.

Obi-Wan sent a wave of love and affection in return.

Anakin went red.

The last eight years with Anakin beside him had felt familiar and new all at the same time.  Familiar because it was Anakin and they’d always worked together brilliantly.  The sight of Anakin sitting at their shared table in their living space tinkering with droids was comforting and right.  Just as teaching him, guiding him, felt right.

But – it was new because their relationship was different.  They had a better foundation, Obi-Wan considered, breathing deeply.  They liked each other better, loved each other more openly.  Oh, they argued and fought still, (Anakin’s early teenage years had still been very challenging), but they talked and understood each other’s perspectives more; they were quicker to forgive and forget hurts, real or imagined.

New because Qui-Gon was alive and in their lives – sporadically and usually turning up to complain about Obi-Wan’s teaching of Anakin before departing again – but in their lives. 

It had been two years before his former Master had been released from the healers.  He’d become a wandering Jedi, taking on mission after mission often in the Outer Rim, sometimes clashing with TASLA which had made his relationship with Shmi fraught at times and Anakin frustrated with him.  Obi-Wan had become used to infrequent drop-ins which were usually filled with Qui-Gon’s complaints.  He’d been particularly furious about the whole situation with the clones, his past experience of being possessed briefly by his Force Ghost providing him with the knowledge of them being dangerous without any context.

Obi-Wan let go of the frustration which always accompanied thinking about Qui-Gon. 

Quin scampered across the hangar with Aayla in his wake.  Aayla immediately glommed onto Lollo and they began chattering away in Twi’lek, dragging Anakin into their discussion. 

Quin immediately glommed onto Obi-Wan.  “Love of my life!”

“Pain in my…”

“Obi-Wan!” Quin laid a dramatic hand over his heart as he pulled back, an arm still slung around Obi-Wan’s shoulders.  “How can you say such things?”

“Easily,” Obi-Wan rejoined with a grin.

Shmi rolled her eyes at them before Quin glommed onto her.  “Hello, Quinlan.”

“I’m glad to see you well,” Quin said, sobering and stepping back.  “Denturri was full of what he was going to do to you once his mysterious benefactor showed up.”

Obi-Wan frowned.  “We should head back into the ship and debrief.”

Shmi sighed and nodded.  “He let some other things slip when he was threatening me.”  She grimaced.  “I need to check in with Fox and Doria make sure everything is organised for the slaves we freed.”

“Why don’t I do that, Shmi?” Padmé offered. 

“Thank you,” Shmi said. 

Padmé headed over to Fox.

Anakin looked up, alarm skittering across his expression when he saw her depart their group.  “Shouldn’t one of us go with her?”

“She’s my Political Liaison and second-in-command, Ani, not the Queen of Naboo,” Shmi reminded him dryly, “she can take care of herself.”

Anakin turned red again.

Lollo looked delighted, her face filled with the mischievous intent to tease…

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan cut in, “why don’t you get the table in the ship set up for the debrief?  We’ll need comms to Master Poof and Mother Ammi.  R2 can help you.”

“Yes, Master,” Anakin said.  He hugged a disappointed Lollo goodbye and darted back into the ship.

“We’ll visit if we can, Lollo,” Obi-Wan said, “but you should probably get back to Master Specialist Ja’rl.  They look like they’re waiting on you.”

“May the Force be with you, Master Obi!”  Lollo bounded away with a wave at the rest of them.

“You’re still her favourite,” Quin complained.

Obi-Wan refrained from smiling smugly.

“At least I’m still Asajj’s favourite,” Quin poked his side.

“You say that as though it’s a good thing,” Obi-Wan said dryly.  Being the favoured friend of Asajj Ventress usually meant being dragged into cantina brawls. 

Still, Obi-Wan smiled at the mention of their friend.  They’d found Ky Narec on Rattatak in the middle of a skirmish with Weequay pirates.  They’d rescued him and Asajj Ventress who Narec had taken as his padawan.  They’d both returned to Coruscant and Asajj had been Knighted a few years later.  She was currently back on Rattatak helping TASLA work with the people there to rebuild with the elimination of slavery on the planet.

Shmi rolled her eyes at them and went inside.  They all followed.

Anakin had set the table up and they slid into the bench around it with ease.  He’d also provided refreshments – glasses with a jug of juice sat on the table with a plate of sugar cookies. 

“Well done, Padawan,” Obi-Wan said approvingly.

Shmi smiled at her son.  “Very thoughtful, Ani.”

Anakin flushed under their praise, but Obi-Wan felt his pleased satisfaction through their bond. 

A few minutes later with the comms connected, the holoimages of Poof and the Head of the Ashki Order appearing over the tabletop.

Obi-Wan had long since stopped flinching at the sight of Mother Ammi.  He had worked out that she had to have been Rey’s grandmother in the past timeline; she looked astonishingly like her granddaughter, only with more wrinkles and steel-grey hair.  Anakin had said that Vader had taken the Mother and her daughter alive from the temple.

“Mother,” Shmi bowed her head to the older woman.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright, child,” the Honoured Mother adjusted the sleeves of her robes.  “We were concerned when we heard your transport had been seized by slavers.”

“As were we,” Poof concurred.  “If you could provide a report, it would be much appreciated, Sister Skywalker.”

Shmi nodded.  “I left Ryloth on schedule having concluded our meeting with the government officials there about the TASLA militia stationed to support them against slaver raids on the population.  They’re currently very happy since the planet has seen almost six standard months now without a raid.”

“That’s brilliant,” Aayla blurted out.

Shmi smiled at her.  “It’s a start.”  She turned back to the table.  “Unfortunately, as soon as we cleared atmo, our ship was caught in a tractor beam of some kind – it fried most of our electronics, we were dead in the water.  Pirate spliced something together to get a distress call out.”  She shifted position.  “We were pulled into the hangar bay of Denturri’s ship.  He surrounded us with guards and brought two young slave children out.  He threatened to kill them both if we did not surrender and exit the ship without our weapons.”

“Bastard,” muttered Anakin.

“Language, Ani,” Shmi said before Obi-Wan could.

Anakin subsided with a sulky pout.  Even at twenty, there was still the odd occasion when he acted more like a petulant teen than the young man he was becoming.

“I was treated well for the most part,” Shmi said dryly.  “We were escorted to the prisoner brig and placed in two different cells, one for the clones and one for me.  However, they were next to each other and there was a vent which allowed us to communicate.”

That was interesting.

Obi-Wan stroked his beard.  Denturri had known Shmi was a threat which explained why he’d physically separated her.  But he hadn’t considered keeping the clones together a threat and the placement of the prisoners has a whole showed a whole new level of stupidity.

“Marco definitely wasn’t the brightest blaster in the box,” Quin said, echoing Obi-Wan’s thoughts.

“My cell suppressed most of my connection to the Force,” Shmi stated matter-of-factly.  “It was a stronger suppression than the last time I encountered binders.”

Which had been a year before if Obi-Wan remembered rightly. 

Shmi had been captured by a bounty hunter, Aurra Sing.  Sing had worked for the Hutts and had intended to take Shmi back to them.  Luckily, Fox had tracked them down before they got to Nal Hutta.  Sing had ended up a very dead bounty hunter for her efforts.

“I sensed Anakin as soon as he was aboard,” Shmi said, “but I could barely get a message to him.” She waved at the rest of the table.  “I had no idea everyone else had come along with him as I couldn’t sense them in the cell.”

“Perhaps our enemies are learning we are different from Jedi,” Mother Ammi said, “and are adjusting their countermeasures accordingly.”

“Perhaps,” Shmi allowed.

Poof hummed.  “It is unfortunate if that is the case.  You have achieved much by having the slavers underestimate you.”

Shmi inclined her head.  “I think we should send a warning to all Sisters, Mother, to be wary and alert to the threat.  I’ll communicate to those active in the Alliance when we finish here.”

Mother Ammi nodded.  “It will be done.”

“Denturri visited me after we were secured in the cells,” Shmi continued.  “He was raging at me for ruining his family business.  Mostly it was the usual threats that he wanted to kill me and tear the Alliance apart, and so on.”

“Yet he didn’t touch you,” Quin stated.

Shmi shook her head.  “He said that ‘if it was up to him, I’d be dead already, but he was going to sell me instead to Tyranus.’”

Obi-Wan frowned heavily, exchanging a quick look with Quin.  “He used the name Tyranus?  You’re certain?”

Shmi arched an eyebrow at him.  “Slaves do not forget the names of their owners, potential or real.”

“Who’s Tyranus?” asked Aayla bluntly.

“Potential Sith,” Quin answered.

Obi-Wan looked to Poof.  The Master of Shadows had the final say over what intelligence about the Sith was known to the wider Jedi Order.

Poof shifted, his image flickering.  “We think he may be Sidious’ apprentice.”

“He would need another one, right?” Anakin said.  “I mean, after Master Obi-Wan killed his last one?”

“Indeed, Padawan Skywalker,” Poof replied.

Mother Ammi hummed.  “Why have we never heard of this Sith before?”

“I have been keeping all intelligence concerning Tyranus secured,” Poof admitted.  “He appeared in Obi-Wan’s vision of a potential future eleven years ago, but we only began to gain any evidence he existed in reality about four years ago.”

Obi-Wan kept his face and emotions controlled.  Poof had come up with the vision excuse for their knowledge of the other timeline when it had become necessary to share some information with the Council.  Of the Jedi, still only Mace, Poof and Quin were aware that Obi-Wan had time-travelled. 

“He killed Komara Vos, a Fallen Jedi,” Quin said, seriously.  “There was security footage from the cantina where they met of her leaving with a cloaked man.”

“When we discovered the clones, his name came up as the contact who had handled the contract on behalf of Master Sifo-Dyas,” Obi-Wan said crisply.  “We managed to cut off his access to Kamino at that time.”

“Other sightings have been rare,” Quin said.  “Rumours, gossip, nothing substantial.”

Shmi frowned.  “You don’t know who he is?”

“We have a suspect,” Poof answered calmly.  “However, our surveillance of him has been difficult in the same way getting a Shadow close to Sidious has always been difficult.  The Sith can sense Jedi and other Force Sensitives easily.”

Obi-Wan’s jaw clenched.  They’d lost two Jedi Shadows to Sidious in the first three years after his return.  They’d decided against trying again, settling instead for passive surveillance and Obi-Wan’s continued ‘friendship’ with Palpatine.

“It’s possible Tyranus wants to give you the recruitment speech,” Quin mused out loud.  “Denturri clearly had orders to keep you alive.  He complained about not being able to kill you when he bragged about your capture.”

Shmi had a look on her face which was all too familiar to Obi-Wan who’d known her son, grandchildren and great-grandchild.

“Since Denturri made it clear that Tyranus wanted me alive,” Shmi said.  “Perhaps I could act as bait?”

“MOM, NO!” Anakin’s horror and fear swamped their bond for a moment.

Obi-Wan sent a wave of reassurance to his padawan.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Shmi,” he said calmly out loud.

“See!” Anakin gestured wildly towards his mother.  “Obi-Wan agrees!”

Shmi’s chin took a stubborn angle which reminded Obi-Wan of Leia.  “I would remind everyone that I can take of myself.”

“Undoubtedly,” Obi-Wan said, “but the timing of this attack is suspect.  You are due to give testimony at the Senate on the Clone Freedom Act.  I would wager that this was an attempt to prevent you from speaking, an attempt to derail the Act.”

“It’s a solid theory, Master Kenobi,” Mother Ammi concurred, “and Shmi, your work with the Alliance must take precedence over entrapping this Tyranus.”

Shmi inclined her head.  “As you say, Mother.”

The two women exchanged a look across the holocomm which Obi-Wan trusted as much as he trusted a tooka in a nest of birds since he was familiar with Rey and with the Skywalker gene for recklessness.  He knew they’d both just decided to place Tyranus on the back burner.  Obi-Wan figured they would be revisiting the argument after the Senate hearing.

“Quinlan, what else did you learn from Denturri?” asked Poof, subtly changing the topic.

“He was excited about the alliance with Tyranus,” Quin reported.  “He believed it would give him unlimited access to the slave worlds the Alliance has freed and that he would dominate the slave trade.”

“He went on and on about it,” Aayla sighed. 

“He said he could get me top of the line Twi’lek stock once Tyranus took care of TASLA,” Quin said.

Aayla snorted.  “Like I’m not top of the line.”

Shmi smiled sharply.  “If Tyranus is coming for TASLA, that makes him my business.”

“After the Senate hearing,” Obi-Wan said firmly.

“Of course,” Shmi said.

“Will we get anything further from Denturri?” Poof asked.

Faces at the table in the ship turned sheepish.  All of them looked at Obi-Wan to speak up.

“The ship may have blown up on our way out,” Obi-Wan admitted.

R2 beeped.

Anakin beamed happily.  “R2 downloaded all their files.”

“Oh, well done, R2!” Obi-Wan said.  “Could you transmit the files to Master Poof?”

R2 agreed with a beep.

Poof bowed his head.  “My thanks, R2D2.”  He looked around the table.  “Quin, you and Aayla must return to Ryloth and investigate how Denturri was aware of Sister Skywalker’s movements.”

Quin nodded.

“Obi-Wan, since you are also due to testify, you and your padawan are assigned to escort Sister Skywalker to Coruscant for the Senate hearing,” Poof continued.

Obi-Wan agreed, ignoring Anakin almost bouncing on his seat in excitement like a jappu.

They made their farewells and the comms blinked out.

Quin sighed.  “You’d better take The Shadow, Obi, it’ll get you there in plenty of time.  I’ll scrounge up a transport to Ryloth.”

“You can take an Alliance ship,” Shmi offered.

Quin shook his head.  “The locals will clam up against anything official.  We’ll head in undercover.”  He slid out of the booth, leaned over and kissed Obi-Wan.

With a very talented tongue.

Anakin made a cry of protest.  “My eyes!”

Aayla slapped his arm.  “They’re adorable, Ani.”

Shmi chuckled.

Quin stepped back with a wink at a blushing Obi-Wan.  He slung his arm around Aayla.  “Come on, Knight Secura, we have work to do.”

Aayla pulled a face but waved a goodbye to the table. 

“We should collect Padmé and some additional supplies,” Shmi said.  “I’ll head over and get her now.”

“I’ll do it!” Anakin slid out and was gone before either Obi-Wan or Shmi could offer a protest.

Shmi sighed.  “He’s so completely hung-up on her.”

“He had a vision of them married when he was nine, Shmi,” Obi-Wan said.  “He’s certain she’s the love of his life.”

“I was much the same about Erek,” Shmi said.  She bit her lip.  “I dreamed about him from the time I knew what it was to be a woman.”

Obi-Wan hummed.

Shmi’s smile turned teasing.  “So…you and Quin.  R2 said he’s going to be your ringbearer.”

Face-palming, Obi-Wan assured himself, was a perfectly acceptable response.

o-O-o

The temple was Obi-Wan’s sanctuary.

It was dangerous to consider it so given its fate in the past timeline, but Obi-Wan loved the feeling of safety and home too much.  He would do everything in his power for the temple to survive as a thriving sanctuary for all Jedi.

Or it was supposed to be sanctuary, he mused, as he stepped off The Shadow and took in the group waiting for him.

“Mand’alor,” Obi-Wan greeted Jango Fett with a fisted tap against his chest.  He bowed to Satine Kryze beside him.  “Duchess.”  He bowed again to the waiting Council members, all of whom had gathered.  “Masters.”  He turned to introduce Shmi.  “You remember Sister Skywalker of the Order of Ashki, and the leader of The Alliance for the Slave Liberation Army, and her Political Liaison, Padmé Naberrie, formally Queen Amidala of Naboo.”

Jango bowed his head to her and tapped his own chest in salute.  “Su cuy’gar, Sister Skywalker, Lady Naberrie.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t surprised when Satine’s lips twisted. 

“Sister Skywalker,” Satine said, “it is good to see you again. We had heard you had a run-in with a slaver.”

Shmi shrugged.  “We were able to escape with the help of his slaves.”

“Are they free?” asked Jango gruffly.

“Elek,” Shmi said.

Jango gave a sharp nod of approval.

“Was it necessary to kill the slaver?” asked Satine.  “Could he not be redeemed?”

Obi-Wan almost laughed at the eye-roll Jango gave; it reminded him of Rex.  He kept his expression serene because he was certain if he did laugh Satine might break her own pacificism to hit him.

Shmi lifted an eyebrow, noting the disapproval.  “Slavers rarely give up their slaves by choice.”

“The Jedi did,” Satine said. “They gave up the clones.”

There was suddenly a lot of affronted feelings in the Force.  Obi-Wan didn’t dare look at the Jedi Council. 

That was Satine, Obi-Wan thought with weary amusement, making friends and influencing people wherever she went. 

“Perhaps we should adjourn to the temple?” Obi-Wan cut in.  “We have much to discuss before the testimony to the Senate tomorrow, I’m sure.”

“An excellent suggestion, Master Kenobi,” Yaddle declared.  “Sister Skywalker, may I accompany you?”

“Of course,” Shmi said.  She moved forward to fall into step beside Yaddle who began walking back to the temple.

“Anakin, please escort Lady Naberrie,” Obi-Wan instructed. 

Anakin’s delight filtered through their bond.

In almost synchronous moves, Jango plastered himself to the right of Obi-Wan as Satine stepped up to his left.

Amusement rippled through the gathered Masters.

“I will be happy to escort you both, Mand’alor,” Obi-Wan said, keeping his frustration hidden, “Duchess.”

The procession slowly made their way inside.

Jango cleared his throat. “Did my ade…”

“Fox, Hooch and Pirate all made it out without a scratch on them,” Obi-Wan reassured him. 

There were lines furrowing Jango’s brow, a hint of the headache Jango was feeling because he’d shown concern for the clones.  It was a side-effect of the mental damage Tyranus had caused Jango with compulsion after compulsion carefully embedded into his psyche.  It had been Quinlan who had discovered what had been done to Jango as soon as he’d laid hands on something Jango had touched when they’d arrived on Kamino.

Convincing Jango had been almost impossible because of his innate distrust of the Jedi which had only been reinforced with the compulsions.

Obi-Wan didn’t blame Jango for the distrust and hate.  In Jango’s eyes, the Jedi had simply shown up on Galidraan and killed Jango’s people, the Haat Mando’ade.  They’d been responsible for turning Jango over to the corrupt Governor, who had been working with Death Watch, who had in turn sold Jango into slavery.

That the Jedi had been sent by the Senate, had been fooled by the Governor and Death Watch into doing their dirty work of removing the True Mandalorians as a rival political faction…

Obi-Wan had no doubt that the whole thing had been orchestrated by Sidious and his late Master to destabilise Mandalore.  The system had fallen into civil war and extremism on both sides.  Obi-Wan’s padawan mission to protect Satine had shown him just how the peace on Mandalore was difficult and frighteningly fragile.    

It still was.

For Cody, for Rex, for Fox and Hooch and Pirate and all of Jango’s ade, Obi-Wan had taken a huge risk and told Jango about the time-travelling, about how Jango’s death and Boba’s fate, about the fate of Mandalore under the rule of the Sith.  The clincher had been the reveal that Dooku, who had led the Jedi on Galidraan, was Tyranus, and Quinlan providing a demonstration that his psychometry was real.

Jango had grudgingly agreed to let Obi-Wan, and only Obi-Wan remove the compulsions.  It was intimate mind-to-mind work.  By the end of it, they’d had a Force bond and Jango had named him aliit.

As they walked into the temple, Obi-Wan used the bond to send a tendril of healing through, easing the headache Jango suffered.

Without compulsions, Jango still distrusted the Jedi, but he chose to direct his hate to the Senate, Death Watch and the Sith.  He had immediately adopted the clones as aliit and named them all as his ade – the True Mandalorians had been reborn.

And Mandalore was destabilised once more.

Satine had not been happy.

She’d been furious about the sudden reappearance of a rival faction – one she knew her own people preferred because it meant they didn’t have to give up their traditions and culture.  She’d been furious at how close Jango and Obi-Wan had become.

It hadn’t helped that a small force of Jango and his oldest children had violently cleared the remnants of Death Watch from Mandalorian space.  Jango wore the darksabre he had won from Pre Vizsla in a brutal duel.

It had taken the last three years since they’d ‘found’ the clones for a consensus to be reached, Obi-Wan painstakingly negotiating a coalition between Jango and Satine which was enshrined in a peace treaty.

Obi-Wan had of course complained loudly to Palpatine about difficult Mandalorians and continuing instability.  He’d also complained about the lack of rights within the Republic for the clones, hoping for his support and had surprisingly gotten it.  Publicly, Palpatine was the consummate politician about it all. 

Obi-Wan was pretty certain in private Palpatine was gleeful at the chaos which had erupted on Mandalore and furiously angry at the loss of the clones for his planned manufactured war with the Separatists.  The Confederacy of Independent Systems under Dooku’s leadership had been declared shortly after the clones had been discovered, ostensibly in horror at the idea of the Republic building an army of clones, but without the reveal of their own battle droid army.

Still, Palpatine had used the discovery of the clones and the CIS declaration to orchestrate an emergency extension of his own term.  Ostensibly, it was just a third term, but since it was unlikely that Palpatine would relinquish power, Obi-Wan knew the war was coming, regardless of how they had managed the reveal of the clones.    

Mace ushered them into one of the larger conference rooms in the temple.  There was a soothing water feature cascading down one wall with verdant vine plants clambering along a wooden trellis.

Yaddle escorted Shmi to the left side of the table before taking the seat at the end of the table.  Anakin seated Padmé next to his mother, before hurriedly sitting down beside her.  Obi-Wan placed Satine next to Anakin, sat himself next to Satine with Jango beside him.  Experience had shown him that sitting the two Mandalorians together was a recipe for disaster.  Yoda took the seat next to Jango and the rest of the Council arranged themselves on the other side with Mace taking the seat at the head of the table.

Service droids emerged to provide refreshments in a brisk manner before departing and leaving the room.

Mace cleared his head.  “I want to begin with a summary of what we have already agreed.  We’ll move into any final disputes…”

Obi-Wan felt Satine’s satisfaction and fought the urge to sigh.  She was bitter and it showed.

“…and conclude with the format of tomorrow’s Senate presentation.  Does anyone disagree?”

“Your agenda seems sensible,” Shmi said.

“Elek,” Jango agreed.

Satine inclined her head regally.

Obi-Wan folded his hands on the top of the table and took comfort from the warmth of the wood.  Jango’s knee pressed against his in silent support.

“Right,” Mace tapped the table and the holoemitter projected the relevant sections of the agreement.  “Clause 1.  The Jedi Order formally renounces any ownership of the clones produced by Kamino as ordered according to their contract by Master Sifo-Dyas and accepts the loss of any monies already paid to Kamino.  The clones are declared free within Republic space.”  He turned to Master Yaddle.  “Have we proof that the Kaminoans have halted production?”

“Evidence from Master Shaak Ti, we have,” Yaddle confirmed.  “Decanted all clones are.  No clones on Kamino remain.”

“I destroyed the template material they took from me myself,” Jango said gruffly.

He had.  Obi-Wan had seen him take the blaster to the freezer cabinet the day after Jango had recovered from the mind healing enough to walk.

“Will you be challenged on the claim of original ownership?” asked Shmi.  “What if this Master Sifo-Dyas turns up?”

Poof cleared his throat across the table.  “Our search for him continues.  His last known location was Kamino following his completing the contract with them.”

“What about the money?” Jango said bluntly.

“Yes,” Shmi nodded, “wasn’t there a question of whether the money had come from the Republic rather than the Jedi in our last discussion?”

“The back-tracing of the money led to a Senate bank account,” Mace replied.  “Upon further investigation, although the Senate held the account, the money was originally placed there by the Jedi Council for Jedi use.”

Adi sighed.  “A number of Senate accounts were established by the Jedi to aide the Senate’s financial foundation when it first formed.  We are tracking them all down and have ordered a full audit.”

“Responsibility of the Master of Finances, it was,” Yoda noted.  His ears drooped.  “Last Master of Finances who knew, Master Sifo-Dyas was.”

“Records passed to me upon my assuming the position made no mention of the accounts,” Adi stated.

“Like Kamino, removed all mention in our archives of these accounts, someone did,” Yaddle said.  “Investigating, Master Nu is.” 

Obi-Wan exchanged a look with Mace and Poof.  They suspected it was Dooku who had excised the information from the Archives.  As a Master he had been an experienced researcher and his knowledge of the Archives was immense.  He’d also been close to Jocasta Nu, a crèchemate.  It wouldn’t surprise Obi-Wan if they found out Dooku had used Jocasta somehow to do what he had done.

“We shouldn’t allow ourselves to be drawn into the question of the financing or Master Sifo-Dyas’ motivations,” Obi-Wan cautioned.  “The Kamino contract was clear that they were engaged to produce the clones for the Jedi Order.”

“In defence of the Republic,” muttered Master Tiin.

“Which is why we cannot be drawn on Master Sifo-Dyas’ motivations,” Obi-Wan repeated.  “Whatever he intended their purpose to be, the contract gives ownership to the Jedi Order without reference to the purpose.”

“Bringing us back to clause 1: we renounce our claim and proclaim the clones as free,” Mace stated firmly.  “Clause 2: All clones alive at this time are recognised as legitimate children of the Mand’alor, Jango Fett.”

Obi-Wan was pleased that passed without comment from Satine.

“Clause 3: In line with the Civil Peace Treaty passed by the Mandalorian government last standard year, all clones are recognised as citizens of Mandalore, specifically of the planet, Concord Dawn.”

Jango’s home planet had become the base for the True Mandalorians.

“Clause 4: In recognition that a number of clones have applied to non-Jedi positions within our Service Corps and support staff, any clone currently working or who will work in the future within the Order are deemed members of the Jedi Order and Republic citizens.  Finally, clause 5: In recognition that a number of clones have joined TASLA, any clone currently working or who will work in the future with TASLA are deemed citizens of the planet of Ashki thus are also recognised as Republic citizens,” Mace concluded.

Satine coughed.

“It is the final two clauses which are in dispute,” Mace nodded at Satine in recognition of her concern.  “Perhaps you’d like to state your case.”

Satine shifted her position, leaning forward a touch.  “The Mandalorian government is unhappy…”

“The New Mandalorian faction,” Jango corrected her harshly.  “The Mandalorian government has no objection to clause 5.”

She shot him a glare before turning back to the table.  “TASLA is a violent terrorist organisation; Mando’ade have no place in it.”

“My ade swear to the Resol’nare,” snapped Jango.  “We are not pacifist and our treaty allows for all Mandalorian citizens to work in legitimate organisations and occupations.”

“TASLA is also not a terrorist organisation,” Shmi added tersely.  “I take offence at your description of it as such.”

Satine’s pale face coloured.  “You incite violence on peaceful worlds, do you not?”

“We free slaves and provide slaves with the means to free themselves,” Shmi said.  “We work with them to build lives after slavery.  Slave owners are given the option to surrender their slaves peacefully.  They rarely do.”

“The Republic does not recognise TASLA as a legitimate organisation,” Satine retorted.  “There are Jedi who do not agree with your violence such as Master Jinn.”

Obi-Wan winced at the mention of his former Master.

Padmé stepped in with a polite cough, shooting Shmi a look to stand-down.  “That the Republic does not recognise us is not exactly true,” she said.  “Over two thousand worlds recognise the validity of the Alliance as a charitable organisation with legitimate aims.  They also voted in favour of legitimate recognition of TASLA when the petition went to the floor of the Senate late last year, although there were not enough votes for it to pass.  It is still legislated as a charitable organisation on the planet of Ashki where the Alliance originated and continues to operate.”

“As for your comments about Master Jinn,” Mace said, “he is entitled to his own view, but that is not the official view of the Order.  TASLA has never been violent except in the defence of others; that is a fact.”

“I feel you are using this Act to legitimise TASLA to the wider Republic,” Satine stated bluntly. “I will not allow Mandalore to be used in this way.”

“You do not have the final say on what Mandalore will allow,” Jango said before Shmi or Padmé could speak.  “I am the Mand’alor and the leader of our government by election of our own people.”

Satine frowned heavily.  “You have refused to listen to the complaints of the New Mandalorians on this matter for months.”

“I do not care if TASLA is a legitimate organisation within the Republic; I recognise it as such,” Jango snapped. 

“Your own experience as a slave causes you to be biased,” Satine began heatedly.

“Duchess,” Obi-Wan’s sharply chastising tone had Satine blushing again.  Jango’s fury roiled on the other side of the bond – so did Anakin’s.  Obi-Wan pushed calm and love through the bonds.

Satine glowered.

“I think we are all agreed slavery is a violence perpetrated on sentients in and of itself,” Obi-Wan said evenly.  He was repeating words Satine herself had said to him and by her expression she remembered.  “The clones who have joined TASLA remember their own slavery all too well; they remember decommissioning and reprogramming of their brothers.  They wish to help others find freedom.”

“You may argue that the clones should not consider joining TASLA a legitimate occupation, but the majority of the Alliance’s work is political and peaceful,” Padmé added.  “Any violent conflict is usually started by the slave owners and the Alliance simply defends itself and the slaves under their protection.”

“Ashki has not been censured by the Senate for its actions through TASLA because it was found that slavers had essentially taken enslaved a citizen of their world first,” Obi-Wan said.  “Giving the clones Ashki citizenship provides them with additional protection and protects Mandalore from any backlash by the slavers.”

Satine breathed out in a huff.  “I had not considered that latter point.”

“TASLA’s cause is righteous,” Jango stated crisply.  “As Mand’alor I have no issue with the clause.  As a buir, I will never be able to repay the debt I owe them for the help they have provided my ade.”

“I will withdraw my objection to clause 5,” Satine said sourly.

Mace nodded.  “We should consider how we may have to answer the same objection in the Senate.  Others may well use the argument of TASLA legitimising itself by stealth in the Act.”

Padmé sighed and exchanged a glance with Shmi.  “We will consider our response.”

“Perhaps a change to the clause wording will assist?” suggested Obi-Wan.  “Rather than naming TASLA, we could simply state any clone working for a recognised organisation on the planet Ashki will be recognised as a citizen of Ashki.”

“I like that,” Shmi said.  “Mother and the Prime Minister will have no issues with that amendment.”

Mace nodded.  “We’ll make the change.” He gestured at Satine. “You had an additional objection to clause 4.”

Satine sighed.  “I mean no disrespect to the Jedi Order, but again my people have concerns.  Your work often leads to violent conflicts.”  She paused.  “Including violent conflicts against Mandalorians.”

“On this, the Mandalorian government is in agreement in its objection,” Jango said stiffly.

Obi-Wan pressed his knee against Jango’s, offering some comfort.  Jango pressed back. 

“All members of the Order can recuse themselves from missions which provide them with a personal or moral conflict according to our own policies,” Mace said evenly.

“That is not good enough,” Jango said.  “I do not want my ade to have to fight their vode ever.  I want it in writing in the Act that no clone will ever be ordered to act against Mandalore.”

Satine remained silent, apparently comfortable to let Jango carry the argument.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat.  “It’s not an unreasonable request, Mace.  Putting our policy in writing would only ensure we cannot be ordered by the Senate to enforce something different.  I’m certain we can get the Senators to agree.”

“Well done for volunteering to present that part of the petition then,” Mace said dryly.

It drew a few chuckles out of the rest of the gathering.

Mace nodded slowly.  “Does anyone have any objections to the amendment?”

Even Piell cleared his throat and lifted his hand from the table.  “Not so much an objection so much as a question?” He turned to Jango.  “Mand’alor, at present Mandalore is at peace.  What if there is a resurgence of Death Watch?  What if a number of the clones join them?  Would you still expect us to stand the clones down in such a situation?”

Jango grimaced.  “Elek – yes.”  He held up a hand.  “If my ade chose Kry’tsad, I would fight them myself, but I would not order brothers to fight brothers.”

“It’s unlikely that any of the clones would choose Death Watch because of their reputation as demagolka,” Obi-Wan said, “but even allowing for the remote possibility that they might, they would be considered as an enemy, dar’manda, by their brothers.  A request to assist in a fight against them would likely be agreeable to many clones.  What the Mand’alor is asking for is for them not to be ordered.”

“There should always be a choice not to raise a weapon,” Satine added.  “Do you not agree?”

Piell inclined his head.  “If relations between the Republic and Mandalore deteriorate, if the two sides went to war, the clones as Republican citizens would be expected to fight for the Republic.”

“Only if there was a draft or if the Jedi Order itself was ordered to participate in the martial defence of the Republic,” Obi-Wan slid in before either Jango or Satine could answer.  His own tone was milder than theirs would have been, but there was an underlying hint of steel in it which came from his years as a General.  “In either case, Galactic Law allows for citizens to refuse the draft on religious grounds or personal beliefs, such as swearing to the Resol’nare, and as Mace has already stated if any of our Order conscientiously objected or had a personal conflict to participating in warfare, we would not under our own policies force them to do so.”

“It rather makes the argument for enshrining the Jedi policy into the Act,” Padmé pointed out slyly, “don’t you think?”

Piell subsided.

Mace nodded.  “I’ll add the wording and send it out for review later.”  He took a breath.  “Any remaining objections?”

Nobody spoke up.

“We’ll meet with the Sub-Committee tomorrow, present the completed Act and take on board any of their comments,” Mace said.  “Our petition is scheduled to be delivered to the Senate in five standard days time.  I am sponsoring the Act as the Head of the Order and will act as the main petitioner; Obi-Wan will be my named second.  The Mand’alor and Sister Skywalker will be called upon to testify on behalf of the clones themselves.”

“In attendance, all the High Council will be,” Yoda decreed.     

“Have I mentioned my allergy to politicians?” muttered Saesee Tiin.

Yoda stared him down into a purple flush of embarrassment.

Mace went over the timings and order of presenters before concluding the meeting.  Most of the Council scurried out with half-hearted nods to the Mandalorians.

Anakin shot him a look as their side of the table slid their chairs back and got to their feet.

Obi-Wan nodded at his padawan.  “You’re dismissed, padawan.  Let me know if you decide to stay with your mother tonight.”

Shmi had a gorgeous apartment near to the temple owned by the Order of Ashki.  Jedi were not meant to covet possessions and things, but Obi-Wan could admit he was envious of the tranquil space and airy rooms.

Anakin shook his head.  “I’ll be home later, Master.”

“Boba was asking to see you,” Jango said.

“Shall we meet for a meal later at mine?” Obi-Wan said.  He glanced down the table.  “Anakin’s likely to be with Shmi.  It would be nice to have the company.”

Jango nodded. 

Satine cleared her throat.  “May we speak, Obi-Wan?  It’s been a while since we caught up.”

Jango’s annoyance flickered down their bond.  Obi-Wan replied with amusement at his annoyance.  Jango gave a short nod and left.

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said to Satine, “shall we go to my apartment for tea?”

“That sounds lovely,” Satine said.

o-O-o

Obi-Wan loved the rooms he shared with Anakin.  Quin’s room was handily next door, and they shared a balcony.  How Quin had arranged that, Obi-Wan had no idea.  He suspected bribery.

The small apartment was on a corner in a v-shape.  Anakin’s room with its own small fresher was to the left as they entered the hallway and short corridor to the main living space which was nestled into the v.  Large glass doors led to the wrap-around balcony.  A comfortable sofa and chairs were arranged to take advantage of the view.  Meditation mats were rolled up in the corner; a shelving unit was almost bursting with holobooks, models of ships which Anakin had built as a child and a lone cactus plant.  There was a box filled with droid parts which had been cleared from the floor before they’d departed on their mission.

Obi-Wan escorted Satine to the sofa, scooping up a jacket Quin must have left lying there, before heading to the kitchen area on the right, popping into his bedroom through a door on the right to dump Quin’s jacket, his own outer robe and boots. 

The kitchen was separated from the living space by a small island unit.  Obi-Wan quickly set-up a tea-tray and managed to find some biscuits in the sparse pantry.  He headed back into the living space and set the tray down on the low table in front of the sofa.  He poured Satine a cup, handing it to her solemnly.  Since Satine had chosen the sofa, he took a chair next to it, settling in with his own cup with a sigh.

“I am sorry, Ben,” Satine said softly, “you probably wished for peace after your mission and the meeting.”

“I always have time for friends, Satine,” Obi-Wan said, not reacting to her calling him the name he’d used when they’d been on the run, the name he’d used hiding on Tatooine while he watched Luke from afar.

Satine hummed.  “Some days it feels like we are opponents more than friends in recent times.”

Obi-Wan inclined his head, a lock of copper hair falling into his eyes that he pushed back impatiently.  “I know it’s hurt you that I cannot support many of your policies, Satine, but just because we have many different political views, it doesn’t mean that we’re not friends.”

She sipped her tea.  “You’re close to the Mand’alor.”

“I healed him from the injuries the Sith inflicted upon his mind,” Obi-Wan said mildly.  “We found a friendship.”

“I just,” Satine sighed, setting the cup down and her brilliant blue eyes met his finally, “I miss us.”

Obi-Wan smiled at her fondly.  “We are different people now, Satine, than when we were teenagers in love.”

“I wanted to ask you to stay,” Satine said.

“If you had asked, I might have stayed,” Obi-Wan admitted.  He felt a touch of heat across his cheeks.  “I was young enough to be swept away by the romance of it.”

Satine bit her lip.  “We have a son.”

Obi-Wan choked on the sip of tea he’d been in the middle of swallowing.  He set the cup down and mopped up the splatters of tea on his tunic as he tried to make sense of her words.  “What?!”

“That last time,” Satine said. “You remember we were…”

“I remember,” Obi-Wan said hastily.  He stared at her, almost uncomprehendingly.  “We…you…why didn’t you tell me?”

Satine rubbed her hands over the skirt she wore.  “You chose to return to the Jedi.”

Obi-Wan frowned.  “If I’d known I’d had a child, I would have stayed, or returned.”

“You say if I’d asked, if I told you,” Satine mocked him lightly, “but the choice you made was the Jedi.”  She pinned him with a hurt look.  “Did you not consider that I was waiting for you to ask me if you could stay?”

Obi-Wan accepted the admonishment.  He’d felt his duty was to return to the Jedi.  Knowing she had her own duty to lead her people meant he hadn’t thought he could ask since he’d known staying would only have made things more difficult for Satine.  A former Jedi as her riduur would only have given her enemies leverage.

He got up and paced to the glass, looking out at the city and the bustling air traffic.

He breathed in.  He breathed out.  He centred himself, calming his racing mind and galloping heart, letting the anger and hurt at her news slide away into the Force.  He’d never heard rumours of a child, only a nephew, Korkie.  He’d met the young man in question during the treaty negotiations and – oh.

“Our son,” Obi-Wan said stiffly, not turning around to face her, “is he well?  Safe?” 

Satine breathed in sharply.  “He is.  Korkie’s here on Coruscant at the University studying galactic law.”  She sighed.  “He was raised by my Aunt Clodie and her riduur, Jana, in Sundari.  He was loved and cared for by them.”      

Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly.  “Does he know about me?”

“He’s known I was his biological mother since he turned thirteen.  After meeting you last year, I told him you were his father,” Satine said.  “I explained I had never told you.”  She paused.  “He contacted me when he found out I was coming to Coruscant.  He wants to meet you, that’s why…” she gestured vaguely at the two of them.

Obi-Wan nodded.  “I would like to meet with him.”  He wouldn’t turn his son away.

Force.

Satine got up and walked over to him, their faint reflections in the glass looked back at them.

“We could still be a family,” Satine said.

Obi-Wan was certain if he’d been drinking his tea he would have choked again.  “What?”

Satine reached out to touch his arm and he shifted away, staring at her.  She dropped her hand awkwardly, before crossing her arms over her chest.  She glared at him.

“You needn’t look so horrified at the idea,” Satine said angrily.

“You know I’m with Quin!” pointed out Obi-Wan, exasperated. 

Satine raised her eyebrows.  “You and I have a child together.”

Obi-Wan frowned at her.  “You and I created a child who has been raised without knowledge of me or I of him, raised by others.  Korkie Kryze is a fully-fledged adult.”  He saw the flush of red spread over her cheeks and down her neck.  “Quin and I have raised warriors together.”

“There is still love between us, Ben,” Satine said, fiercely.  “We could be together as we were always meant to be, give Korkie a sister or brother.  You could make a different choice.”

“I could, but I won’t,” Obi-Wan said firmly.  “I love Quin and I am a Jedi, and I don’t think our being together is truly what you want either.”   

They stood in angry silence for a long moment.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath.  “Satine, where is this coming from?”

Satine paced back to the sofa and sat down.  He followed her, resuming his seat and picking up his discarded tea.

“I told you I missed us,” Satine said quietly.  “Knowing you will know Korkie, it’s made me think a lot of the past, of the future.  I still love you.  There has been no-one else.”

Obi-Wan rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  He felt her sincerity in the Force; she believed what she was saying, but she wasn’t looking at him and he sensed what she had said was only part of her motivation.

“Satine, I will always care for you as a friend,” Obi-Wan said gently, “and I remember our love fondly, but I have moved on and Quin is the love of my life.”

Satine sighed.  “Will you at least think about it?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, his frustration at her stubbornness growing.  “I don’t need to, Satine.  I’ll meet with Korkie, of course, but any romantic relationship between you and I is long over.”

She grimaced, tucking her blond hair back behind her ears.  “I think I should leave so you can think about things.  I’ll forward you Korkie’s comm details.”

She was up and out of the flat before Obi-Wan could barely push his cup onto the table and get to his feet.

For a moment, he stood in the centre of the room and wondered what the Force had happened.

He swept a hand through his hair and paced back to the windows.

His commlink sounded and he twisted his wrist to answer, sending the incoming vidcall to the table.  A small holovid of Quin projected itself above the tea-tray.

“Quin,” Obi-Wan sat back down in his chair with a thump.  “Where are you?”

“Heading back to Tatooine,” Quin peered at Obi-Wan.  “You’re upset.  I sensed something through our bond, but you’re shielded too well for me to know why.”

Obi-Wan rubbed his beard.  “Satine just informed me that I have a son.”

Quin’s eyes went wide with surprise before he quirked his eyebrows and smiled.  “Korkie Kryze, the kid we met?”

Obi-Wan nodded.  “He’s on Coruscant, attending the university.  Satine only told him last year.  She says he wants to meet me so she finally told me about him.”

“You didn’t know?” asked Quin with a gentleness that would have surprised anyone except those who loved Quin.

Obi-Wan shook his head.  “She never told me before.”  He sighed.  “I’m going to arrange to meet him.”

“Of course, you are,” Quin said.  “Do you want me there, d’anshari?”

“I always want you with me,” Obi-Wan said, “but I think meeting with him as father and son…it’s probably something I need to do alone first.”    

Quin nodded slowly.  “Something else is bothering you.”

“Satine suggested that now I know we could be a family,” Obi-Wan blurted out.  “She and I, I mean.”

Quin laughed, but slowly sobered as he realised Obi-Wan wasn’t joking.  “She actually said that?!”

“I know!” Obi-Wan said, gesturing.  “I told her I love you, but I don’t think she was listening.”

“She never does when someone says something she doesn’t want to hear,” Quin remarked evenly.

Obi-Wan looked at Quin carefully.  “You don’t like her.”

“I don’t know her,” Quin said equally as careful.  “My only interaction with her was during the negotiations and I thought her tough and intransigent.  She had the Mandalorians on a path to cultural genocide, and I find her pacifism is flawed and hypocritical in execution.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t argue with any of that.  

“But even last year, she made it clear that she wanted you,” Quin continued, “which didn’t endear her to me at all since she knew we were together.”

“She did?” Obi-Wan didn’t remember that.  All he remembered was Satine being bloody obstinate.

“You oblivious fool, you,” Quin said fondly. 

Obi-Wan fidgeted with the edge of his tunic.  “You know I would never…”

“I know, d’anshari,” Quin said, “I love you too.”

Obi-Wan sighed.  “I don’t understand why she even wants to get together.”

“As much as I love and could list all your many attributes, I would guess this specifically is about power,” Quin pointed out.  “The Mandalorians call you King-maker.  As a padawan, you raised Satine to power, and as a Knight and Master, you’ve reinstated Jango as Mand’alor.  You have a reputation with them.”

“Well, that is more realistic than her suddenly wanting to be one big happy family,” Obi-Wan muttered unhappily.  He should have understood her motivation immediately, he mused.

“She is holding a torch for you, Obes,” Quin said, “but I would guess her timing is all politics.  You know she was under pressure to marry Vizsla before Jango took his head.  I would guess her advisors are pushing for her to marry either Jango or you so she can regain some influence.  I feel for her a little because thinking she needs to marry a man to regain influence is bantha-shit.”

Obi-Wan grimaced.  He felt for Satine but he was definitely not interested in resuming their relationship just so she could regain some political face. 

“I think she has to realise that Jango would rather set himself on fire than marry her and maybe she would rather set herself on fire to marry him,” Quin continued, sounding more cheerful, “so that leaves you.”

“She’s out of luck,” Obi-Wan said.  “I would rather set myself on fire.”

Quin grinned at him. 

Obi-Wan gestured at him.  “How was your mission?”

The smile fell off Quin’s face.  “Found a mole,” he said, “he was in put place by Tyranus.”

Obi-Wan grimaced.  “Is it just me or is Tyranus suddenly becoming a visible presence?”

“They’re positioning themselves to make a move,” Quin agreed.  “We should talk more about it with Poofy and Mace when I call in tomorrow.” He checked something behind him.  “Aayla’s awake.”

“I’ll let you go,” Obi-Wan said.  “May the Force be with you both.”

“You too,” Quin paused as he reached for the button to end their call.  “Stop worrying about it and call your son, Obi-Wan.”  He winked and the image disappeared.

Obi-Wan checked his messages.  He found the one from Satine at the top.  He took a breath and opened it.  It was past time to get to know his son.

o-O-o

Obi-Wan set the washed pot onto the draining board with a satisfied hum.  There was something meditative about chores, he mused.

The evening had been lovely and just what he had needed after the tumultuous revelations of the day. 

Boba’s happy chattering about his training with the other young clones had been a perfect antidote to Obi-Wan’s stirred-up emotions.  Jango had also been surprisingly comforting; amused with Satine’s manoeuvrings, matter-of-fact about Korkie’s existence, and encouraging about Obi-Wan’s newfound status as a biological parent, pointing out that Obi-Wan had been raising Aayla and Anakin for years.

He glanced at the chronometer.  Anakin had undoubtedly forgotten the time again.  Usually Shmi was good enough to send Anakin on his way eventually or to give Obi-Wan a call if Anakin decided to stay at her apartment.  He smiled fondly. 

From a certain point of view, he and Shmi had been sharing custody of Anakin for years.  Their joke of being co-parents wasn’t actually all that far from the truth.  He hoped his relationship with Korkie would evolve into a similar constructive sharing with Korkie’s buire and Satine. 

A hard rap of knocks against the apartment door jolted Obi-Wan from his musings.  He frowned as he walked to the door, sensing the identity of his visitor.

“Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan greeted his former master with a polite smile, noting the minor changes in the older Jedi since the last time their paths had crossed more than a year before.  More lines furrowed Qui-Gon’s brow and clustered around the unhappy turn of his mouth.  His shoulder-length hair was all grey and had been braided back into a singular messy tail.  Otherwise, Qui-Gon was Qui-Gon and the disapproving look was all too familiar.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said tersely, “I know your padawan is not in the temple and I would rather not have this discussion in the corridor.”

Obi-Wan had a feeling he didn’t want to have what discussion Qui-Gon wanted to have at all, but he stepped aside to let him in.

Qui-Gon swept in with a flurry of robes and stood glowering in the middle of the living space.

“What would you like to complain about this time?” asked Obi-Wan dryly as he closed the door and joined him.

“I came to speak to you about this ridiculous Act,” Qui-Gon said, anger lining his words forcefully.  “You cannot mean to go through with it!”

Obi-Wan repressed the urge to sigh.

“I have told you and the Council multiple times that the clones cannot be trusted,” Qui-Gon stated furiously.  “You continue to disregard the warning in the Force and…”

“There is no warning in the Force,” Obi-Wan said firmly.  “The clones are no threat to us and if you would take a moment to meditate on it you would realise that.”

Qui-Gon’s glare could have melted paint.  “I have done nothing but meditate on it!  You are wrong!” He stabbed a finger in Obi-Wan’s direction.  “You’re the one in denial along with the rest of the Council!  The clones are a trap orchestrated by the Sith!  I told you this three years ago when you found them!”

What Qui-Gon had told them was vague.  There was no detail behind Qui-Gon’s memories, just the knowledge that the clones were a danger to the Jedi.

“The clones were a Sith trap,” Obi-Wan agreed calmly, “one which we have disarmed.”  De-chipping the clones had taken months.  He sighed.  “I know the Council has informed you of that many times.”

Qui-Gon breathed in sharply.  “Vague assurances which mean nothing!”

“Nobody is going to tell you the specifics, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said firmly.  “Only a few know them for security reasons.”

The muscle in Qui-Gon’s jaw twitched as though he was grinding his teeth. 

“Right now, the Sith believes as you do,” Obi-Wan continued, “that the Jedi are deluded and trusting the clones.  We want them to continue believing that.”

“Do you and the Council really think that I would tell a Sith?!”

“Operational security is important, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said exasperated, “you taught me that.”

Qui-Gon shifted at that, a miniscule shuffle of his feet, but enough for Obi-Wan to know that he’d made his point.

“You are handing the Mandalorians an army,” Qui-Gon changed tack.  “There will be a new Mandalorian Empire and it will be because we handed over the clones.”

“Jango wouldn’t want to deal with the politics of running an Empire,” Obi-Wan said dryly.  “I don’t think we have anything to fear in that regard.”

“The clones were built for war!” Qui-Gon all but snarled.

“The clones are self-determining individuals,” Obi-Wan remonstrated with him sharply.  “The vast majority followed Jango home to Concord Dawn and have settled into civilian lives.”

“Fett is a Jedi-killer!” stormed Qui-Gon.

“Because we killed his people without checking the information the Senate told us!” shot back Obi-Wan.  He was slowly becoming more concerned that Qui-Gon wasn’t just visiting him to complain.  “What is this about, Qui-Gon?”

“You are not fit to be a Jedi!” Qui-Gon said.  “Your promiscuity is the talk of the temple.”

Obi-Wan laughed before he realised Qui-Gon was perfectly serious.  He raised his eyebrows and glared.  “Excuse me?”

“Your affairs with the Duchess and Fett,” Qui-Gon bit out.  “Both have been seen exiting your apartment today.”

“They are friends!  I’m deeply in love and committed to Quin!” Obi-Wan retorted.

“YOU HAVE A SON WITH HER! DO NOT DENY IT!”

He’d informed the Council as soon as he’d finished talking with Korkie, verifying that his son did want to form a relationship after Quin’s cautionary words about Satine’s likely motivations.  Korkie had been nervously flustered like any teenager in the transition to a young man, but he had welcomed them building a relationship, a friendship.  Obi-Wan was genuinely looking forward to it.

He hadn’t looked forward to telling the Council.  Despite the new policies on families, it was somewhat embarrassing to admit he had a love child he’d known nothing about.  Luckily apart from a few jabs about his failure to practice birth control, the Council had simply acknowledged his disclosure and moved on thanks to the new policy on families that Shmi had constructed with Mace.  He knew there would be a more in-depth conversation with Poof and Mace when they all met, but until then…

“I see the gossip mill is alive and well,” Obi-Wan sighed, brushing his hair back.  “If you know that much, then you know Korkie was a result of my time in Mandalore when I was a padawan.  Not now.”

“You were always too attached to her!” Qui-Gon said.  “You’re allowing it to happen again!  Your attachment to these Mandalorians will mean the downfall of us all! You already set a poor example to Anakin!”

“Anakin knows the difference between an attachment and a treasured relationship with another sentient,” Obi-Wan argued.  “If anyone sets him a poor example, it’s you!  Despite the healing you undertook, you’re still too attached to him.  You told me once you thought possessiveness about him led to a Fall.  Don’t make it a reality!”

“It is not I who has embroiled himself in politics because of his attachments!” Qui-Gon said.  “Dooku is right you are too close to the Chancellor,” he grumbled.  “You’ve allowed your friendship with him to influence you!”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.  “There is little difference between my friendship with Sheev Palpatine and yours with Finis Valorum.”

“I never slept with Finis!”

Obi-Wan’s mouth fell open.  “Well, I’ve never slept with Sheev Palpatine!”  He shuddered visibly.  “Honestly, Qui-Gon where did you get such an idea?!” He frowned as he suddenly registered what Qui-Gon had said.  “Did Count Dooku tell you that?”

Qui-Gon’s stance changed subtly but enough for Obi-Wan to have warning.

Qui-Gon’s lightsabre lit with a hiss of sound.   

Obi-Wan called his own from where he’d left it on his bed even as he dodged Qui-Gon’s first attack.  He bent backwards, avoiding the glide of the blade as it sought to cut him down.

He flipped, slid sideways to the open doorway and…his hilt landed in his hand just in time for him to light it and…

Qui-Gon thrust his blade forward, Obi-Wan parried, sliding into defence, countering as Qui-Gon attempted blow after blow.

The door to the apartment flew open and Anakin charged in, igniting his lightsabre with a yell.

Qui-Gon turned on instinct, his blade flashing out, his eyes flashing a Sithly yellow…

Obi-Wan tossed Qui-Gon to the side to save Anakin from a nasty sabre burn.  He took his cactus plant and slammed it into Qui-Gon’s head while he was disoriented from the violent Force push.

Qui-Gon wobbled and slumped over, the lightsabre flickering out.

Obi-Wan caught his breath.

Anakin ran over to him, turning his own sabre off.  “Are you alright, Master?”  He all but threw himself into Obi-Wan’s arms as though he was nine again, hugging him tightly before pulling back to examine him, patting him down not particularly gently.  “Are you hurt?”

“Winded,” Obi-Wan said. 

“What happened?” asked Anakin, glancing over to the prone form of Qui-Gon.  “Has he gone loco again?”

“Unfortunately, I think it might be worse than that,” Obi-Wan said grimly.  “I think he’s been seduced to the Dark Side; he’s Fallen.”

o-O-o

“He’s showing signs of the same compulsions as Fett suffered,” Poof offered the seaweed liquor to Obi-Wan who shook his head.  Quin looked relieved to be calling in via holocomms.

“How did we miss that Qui-Gon was meeting with Dooku?” asked Mace bluntly.

Poof sighed heavily.  He looked tired and aged.  They’d had to leave him alone to deal with the situation Qui-Gon while they’d gone to talk with the Senate sub-committee about the Act. 

Obi-Wan considered that Poof had lived beyond the mission which had taken his life last time.  “He’s wily.”

Poof chuckled, his expression brightening for a moment.  Quin started chuckling.

“Your entire lineage is wily,” Mace massaged his temple.  “It’s a problem.”

“The Shadows assigned to Dooku are not in positions where they can follow Dooku around without question,” Poof sighed.  “The one on Serrano reported a visitor a year ago who Dooku was excited to receive, but who was kept hidden by the Count.  Palpatine was on Naboo at the time and as we had no Shadow assigned to him, we believed it was him.”

“A reasonable assumption,” Mace agreed.

“A review of the flight logs in the ship assigned to Qui-Gon shows it was him,” Poof said.  “Master Ckis went through the log with a fine comb and found five other instances of travel to Serrano following Qui-Gon’s release from the healers.”

“I thought he and Dooku were estranged,” Quin said bluntly, his image flickering a touch.

Poof gestured with his upper arms.  “I checked with the Kab’ere temple, he was encouraged to reach out to Dooku as part of his healing.  They had a number of holocalls and Dooku visited with him twice.”

Mace glowered and reached for the liquor.

“I suspect that Dooku’s motivations were not as simple as a reconciliation,” Obi-Wan said.

Poof shook his head.  “Jinn admitted that he and Dooku have been trying to recover the ‘vision’ he had during the Force event.”

“If the Sith knew the future…” Obi-Wan shuddered at the thought of it.

“Master Che believes that their efforts made it more likely that Jinn would identify events which resonate with the ‘vision,’ but in her view, they cannot retrieve what was lost,” Poof said.  “Unfortunately, their activities in this regard probably did lead to Jinn’s strong negative feelings about the clones.”

“Which he has been vocal about with the Council at every opportunity,” Mace sighed.  “What about his attacking Obi-Wan?  Could that be down to this memory seeking he and Dooku were doing?”

“Potentially it brought back the Force Ghost version’s strong opinion that Obi-Wan held responsibility for the downfall of Anakin in that past timeline,” Poof mused out loud.  He gave an elegant shrug.  “What we do know is that Dooku layered a compulsion upon Jinn’s mind for him to view Obi-Wan’s actions negatively and to consider him a threat.”

“That makes sense,” Quin remarked.  “We know Dooku is Sidious’ apprentice and he’d have to be blind not to realise that Sidious wants Obi-Wan in that position.  Stoking up Jinn to deal with Obi-Wan would be easier for Dooku than doing it himself.”

“Is Jinn a tool then or has he actually become a Sith apprentice himself?” asked Mace brusquely.

“A tool,” Poof answered, “but the damage done to him by the compulsions and the previous Force Ghost possession have led him into Falling regardless.”  He sighed.  “Yoda will escort him to Kab’ere and stay with him to remove the compulsions once the vote is done at the end of the week.  After that he’ll have more healing and we’ll reassess.  Until he leaves, he’s under guard and I would suggest you avoid him, Obi-Wan.”

“Fine with me,” Obi-Wan said.  He felt sorrow for Qui-Gon’s experience, but the memory of their fight the night before was raw enough to temper that with caution and hurt.

“Are we sure he isn’t Dooku’s Sith apprentice?” asked Quin.  “We removed Asajj from the board so he has to have someone else, right?”

“You speak as though you are certain Dooku has an apprentice,” Mace commented.

“The mole I found on Ryloth,” Quin began, “I handled his datapad.  He met with Tyranus – Dooku, and another cloaked man, definitely too tall to be Sidious, and he stayed behind Dooku in the position of a padawan.  He said nothing in what I could sense.  The mole confirmed that the second man said nothing.”

“You’re on your way to Tatooine,” Mace noted, “why?”

“The mole gave up that there was another he liaised with on Tatooine,” Quin said.  “He was too scared of Tyranus to tell me who, but I got a lead from his datapad; they’re embedded into TASLA.”

“Tyranus is making himself very visible,” Mace declared unhappily.

Obi-Wan and Quin looked at each other and Obi-Wan gave Quin a subtle nod.

Quin cleared his throat.  “Obi-Wan and I both think they’re gearing up to move.”

Mace looked grave.  “Your reasons?”

Quin darted a look at Obi-Wan, passing the metaphorical lightsabre to him. 

“Palpatine needs another crisis,” Obi-Wan noted dispassionately.  “It’s how he gained power last time.”

“Through the war,” Mace noted, “which we stalled finding the clones earlier than he was prepared for.”

“Exactly,” Obi-Wan tapped his chin.  “He used the secession of the Confederacy and the instability of the Mandalorian system after the clone reveal to gain an additional term two years ago.  With Tyranus’ latest actions, he’s clearing gearing up to pitch TASLA against the CIS.”

“One thing the Duchess wasn’t wrong about yesterday was that TASLA isn’t a recognised Republican organisation,” Mace argued.  “There wouldn’t be enough reason for the Republic to go to war.”

“The Freedom Act will recognise any clone working for the Republic as a Republican citizen,” Obi-Wan mused out loud.  “Satine wasn’t wrong about that either.”  He sighed, his brow furrowing.  “Imagine that the CIS and TASLA do end up in an armed conflict…how many of the clones will go to the aid of their vode?  How long before Mandalore itself would get involved?”

“You think Fett would risk the political stability of his own system?” asked Mace sceptically.

“The clones are his ade,” Obi-Wan said.  “He might stay out of initially, but I suspect the majority of the Haat Mando’ade will want to get involved.” 

“Which won’t go down well with the New Mandalorians,” Quin remarked. 

Obi-Wan nodded.  “The Republic itself becomes a third protagonist.  Palpatine may try and play the peace-broker or…”

“Or he takes the Republic into war alongside the Mandalorians claiming an attack on TASLA is an attack on Republic sovereignty,” Poof said crisply.

“And suddenly the clone army we deprived him of becomes his again for the most part,” Obi-Wan said, gesturing.  “Either way, it presents him with an opportunity for the Senate to grant him ‘emergency powers,’ to involve the Jedi in the conflict, putting them in close working proximity with the clones.”

“Unfortunately, for all it’s convoluted, this is all too feasible,” Mace sighed, rubbing his temple.  “How do we disrupt his plans?”

Quin raised his hand.  “I vote we decapitate him.”

“You always want to decapitate him,” Obi-Wan said dryly.

“Hasn’t he outlived his usefulness?” asked Quin.  “We have the clones, we’ve de-chipped them, and they’ll have their freedom tomorrow.  If we cut off his head, we stop him enacting his plan to gain power and create his evil Empire.”

“He has a point,” Mace said. 

Poof hummed.  “Decapitation would be too much like a coup, especially without any known public cause and evidence.  Palpatine is a popular Chancellor.  He’s actually dealt with a lot of the corruption in the Senate if one ignores his own, has been fiscally sound, and has championed smaller systems without losing sight of the larger influencers.”

Mace glared at Obi-Wan who squirmed in his seat.  “I wonder why.”

“He really wants in Obi’s pants,” Quin remarked brightly.

Obi-Wan felt his cheeks heat scarlet.  “Thank you, dear one.”

“We need proof of his corruption,” Mace stated brusquely. 

Poof sighed.  “He’s been meticulous in his public records.  Beyond the purchase of a few problematic artefacts, all of which were done legally, we have nothing suspicious and the purchases are not enough to warrant an investigation.”

“He must be doing Sithly stuff though, right?” Quin said.  “Can’t we catch him in the act?”

“We’ve been unable to get a Shadow close enough.”  He motioned with his lower right hand at Obi-Wan. “Obi-Wan is the closest insider to the Chancellor that we have.”

Mace cleared his throat.  “How close you are, Obi-Wan?  Do you think you could get him to reveal himself to you?”

Obi-Wan ignored Quin’s amusement through their bond at Mace’s wording. 

“I think it would require a very public schism between the Jedi and myself for him to believe me enough,” Obi-Wan said honestly.  “He believes himself to be my confidant.  I complain the Jedi isn’t moving faster enough to reform; I confide that I’m worried the Council will demand I stop my relationship with Quin regardless of the new policies around families.  I’m sure we can use my confiding him about Korkie to sow another seed of discomfort between myself and the Order…”

“But we would need to orchestrate something seismic, and you would actually need to break with us for him to believe it,” Mace noted.

Obi-Wan was not about to relive the Hardeen mess of his previous life.  “Something seismic would have ripples.  I have a padawan, a lover, friends, fellow Jedi.  Any action I take would affect them.  Any kind of pretend break would have to account for that.”

“We certainly could not enact any kind of scheme while young Skywalker remains with the Jedi,” Poof said.

They were all silent for a long moment.

“Do we just allow this war to happen?” asked Quin in a slightly appalled tone.

“I’m not sure we can stop it regardless,” Obi-Wan said.  “If we kill Sidious, his clone is likely to be activated.  He’ll just pull strings from the safety of Exegol and through his puppets.”

“Dooku won’t stand down,” Mace agreed.

“Dooku has to be planning something,” Obi-Wan said.  “He’s tracking Shmi, he’s got moles in TASLA, he’s working with slavers…if we knew what his plan was to kick off the war, we could stop it.  That has to be our play.”

Quin sighed.  “I guess that’s over to me then.  I’ll see what I can dig up on Tatooine.”

Mace inclined his head.  “May the Force be with you, Quin.”

Quin shot Obi-Wan one more fond look and the transmission cut off.

o-O-o

“What are you doing here?”

Satine’s sharp tone had the small group which had accompanied Obi-Wan stopping mid-step on the path into the Senate building.  They all turned around to greet the Mandalorian Duchess and the two advisors accompanying her.

Korkie grinned at his mother.  “Obi-Wan invited me when we met yesterday.” 

The lanky red-haired teenager wearing vambraces beside Jango looked so like Obi-Wan at eighteen that it was obvious to anyone who’d known him at that age exactly who had fathered Korkie.  The two advisors with Satine looked satisfied in a way which confirmed to Obi-Wan that Quin’s analysis of Satine had been spot on.  He had no idea what Jango’s advisors, his friends Kal and Rav, thought of the whole affair as the two Haat Mando’ade were decked out in head-to-toe armour.

Korkie turned to introduce the small Kuffula boy beside him.  “This is my friend, Jukk.  Jukk, this is my Aunt Satine.”

Jukk pointed ears went red at the tip, his whiskers quivering, as he bowed his small body almost to the ground.  His amber eyes looked bashfully down.

“Su’cuy, Jukk,” Satine said politely.  Her gaze demanded answers of Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan smiled.  “I thought the petition would be a good learning experience for galactic law students.”

“We’re really looking forward to seeing it,” Korkie enthused.

“I wouldn’t get too excited,” a tired-looking Anakin forewarned Korkie dryly.  “Senate sessions are really boring.” 

Obi-Wan frowned at the bags under Anakin’s eyes.  His padawan had waved him off that morning, claiming bad dreams and fairly bristling at the idea that at twenty he needed comfort after nightmares.  Obi-Wan set it aside to focus on the day.  When they were finished with the Senate session, he’d tell Shmi and she’d get it out of Anakin.

“Really boring,” Boba agreed fervently.

Jango rested his free hand on his son’s shoulder, his other held his helmet.  “Unfortunately, sometimes a leader must do boring things.”

“Perhaps we should continue inside,” Obi-Wan said. “We wouldn’t want to be late.”

They all started to move forward.

The Jedi High Council was gathered in an anteroom close to the Senate chamber along with a number of the clones, Padmé and Shmi.  He was immediately abandoned by Anakin who went to greet his mother.  Obi-Wan nodded at Cody who had taken a position in the ExploraCorps.  He recognised the blond by his side as Rex.  Waxer, Boil…there were many Obi-Wan knew from before.

Yoda greeted Korkie after the introductions were done.  “Be welcome, young one.”  He darted a look at Obi-Wan.  “Pleased to have your company, your father is.  Pleased at his knowing you, we are.”

Korkie offered an awkward bow.  “Thank you, Master Yoda.”

“Great grand-padawan of mine, your father is,” Yoda said, “part of my lineage, you are.”

Obi-Wan gave both of them a warm smile.  Noise at the door had them all turning to see the Supreme Chancellor sweeping in. 

There had been a longer conversation with Poof and Mace over whether it was safe for Korkie to be acknowledged as Obi-Wan’s son.  Unfortunately, Obi-Wan didn’t think they had a choice.  If Satine had informed him as a political ploy, the truth would out eventually.  Mace had argued that it was better that Obi-Wan made Palpatine a confidant in the matter and had Palpatine consider Korkie as someone to keep safe and happy to tempt Obi-Wan to his side.  Obi-Wan had conceded and invited the Chancellor to meet Korkie before the session.

There was a flurry of greetings between Palpatine and the Council, and between Palpatine, Shmi and Padmé.  Palpatine nodded at the gathered clones before he turned to Obi-Wan.

“Supreme Chancellor,” Obi-Wan bowed.

Palpatine immediately grasped his hand in both of his.  “My dear boy, I’ve told you a million times. It’s Sheev.”  He patted Obi-Wan’s hand.  “Now, introduce me to this son you would not stop talking about.”

Beside him, Korkie went red and shot Obi-Wan a slightly stunned but happy smile. 

“This is Korkyn Kryze, Clan Kryze,” Obi-Wan said, allowing all his swelling affection for his son to slide into his tone.  “He’s known as Korkie.”

Palpatine accepted Korkie’s bow with a nod.  “Delighted to meet you, young Kryze.  You are fortunate to have such a brilliant and talented man as Obi-Wan as your father.”

“I’m very lucky, Supreme Chancellor,” Korkie managed to say smoothly.  “It’s not many men who would welcome news of a child they did not know had even be conceived.”

“Our Obi-Wan’s heart is his greatest strength,” Palpatine said, smiling at Obi-Wan in a way that made Obi-Wan want to shower; he resolutely ignored Anakin making heaving noises across their bond.  “It’s such a shame that you did not know of each other sooner,” he continued, “but I’m sure the Duchess had her reasons.”

Satine’s eyes flashed, a streak of colour appearing across her cheeks at the jab.

“The important thing is that we know of each other now,” Obi-Wan said diplomatically, “and I have nothing but praise for his buire.  They’ve raised a wonderful son.”

Palpatine’s glee at Obi-Wan’s own jab at Satine was well-hidden but evident to Obi-Wan.  The Chancellor’s brow furrowed a touch as the glee faded.  “A son is a wonderful gift.  I treasured mine until the sickness took him.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows rose in genuine surprise, although he noticed Padmé simply looked sympathetic as though she’d already known of the loss.     

“My condolences, Sheev.”  For the first time ever, Obi-Wan was tempted to reach out and did catching Palpatine’s hand in his own and squeezing gently.  “I can’t imagine the pain you must have felt.”

“It is a terrible thing losing a child,” Palpatine agreed, keeping hold of Obi-Wan’s hand.  “I pray you never experience such pain, my friend.  I hope you simply enjoy your son.”

There was a sincerity which had Obi-Wan faltering, scrambling for words.  He’d always wondered when and how the son who’d fathered Rey had come into being.  Perhaps Sidious hadn’t just procreated for the sake of creating his replacement vessel, but had actually wanted a son?

“I’m surprised Knight Vos isn’t with you,” Palpatine slid in slyly.  “He’s normally so attentive to your needs.”

“He has his own mission,” Obi-Wan demurred, rallying as Palpatine returned to his usual manipulations.  “He’s looking forward to meeting Korkie again.”

An administrator cleared his throat noisily behind them.

The Chancellor sighed. “I believe that is our cue.”  He smiled again at Korkie.  “Enjoy the session, young Kryze.  Your father is masterful in the Senate.”  He turned to Obi-Wan.  “I’m sure you won’t need it, but good luck with the presentation, Obi-Wan.  You’ll have my vote.”

“I appreciate that, Sheev,” Obi-Wan said.

The Supreme Chancellor swept out again, his harried aides clucking after him.

“Is he always so…” Korkie waved his hand in lieu of words.

“Yes,” Anakin said forcefully.  “He really likes Obi-Wan.  He keeps hinting that he would take better care of him than Quin.” He sounded so aggrieved that Shmi started to chuckle.

Yoda hummed with a wicked glint in his eye.  “Attractive to many, Obi-Wan is.”

“I believe we should be making our way to the chamber,” Obi-Wan said brightly, avoiding Satine’s pointed look.  “Shall we?” 

The Jedi had been given their own pod in the Senate as part of the reforms Mace and Obi-Wan had negotiated with Palpatine.  Usually Mace or another Councillor attended the sessions, acting as an advisor or simply listening to the debates.

Obi-Wan turned to ask Anakin to escort Korkie to the observation deck only to find his padawan was already steering the young man and his friend towards it, helped ably by Padmé, who was corralling Boba, Satine following in their wake.

:I’ll take care of him, Master:

:Thank you, Padawan:

Shmi slid her hand into the crook of Obi-Wan’s elbow.  “Anakin’s manners are all you.”

Obi-Wan smiled at her.  “His compassion is all you.” 

They followed as Mace led the way with Jango beside him.  They made their way onto the pod and sat down on the uncomfortable benches.

Palpatine stood from his central pod.  “The Senate is now in session.  Today’s order of business is the Clone Freedom Act which will be presented by the Jedi Order.”

Mace steered their pod into the centre of the chamber. 

Obi-Wan listened patiently as Mace outlined the five clauses.  He introduced Jango and sat down.

Jango rose, carrying his helmet under one arm.  He looked every inch the fierce warrior he was as he looked out at the Senate.

“At Galidraan, the Jedi murdered my people, the Haat Mando’ade at the behest of the Senate who sent them there on the word of a corrupt Governor,” Jango began.  “I was sold into slavery, my people embroiled in civil war until the Republic chose to interfere again.  At the behest of the Senate, the Jedi helped the New Mandalorians to power even as Death Watch was left to roam.”

A pin could have dropped in the silence.

“I was easy prey for a dar’jetti – a Darksider of the Force who compelled me to become the genetic template of an army,” Jango continued.  “The mind tricks of the dar’jetti meant I was a dar’buir to my children; I did not even see them as human.  I was nothing but a whip in the hands of their slavers until the Jedi arrived.”

Fett glowered at the sitting Senators. 

“Do not think me ignorant of the debates held in this congress to keep me trapped in my own head so you could control Mandalore,” he snarled.

Obi-Wan kept his expression serene. He hadn’t know Jango knew about those, but it didn’t surprise him.

“Knight Kenobi freed me and made your debate irrelevant,” Fett continued. “I named my children as mine, they are Clan Fett.  They are all Mandalorian.  Sentients, individuals.  Yet here in this chamber, across Republican space, they are not recognised as such.  They have no rights.  This Senate once sent Jedi to kill the True Mandalorians; now you refuse to recognise those who are True Mandalorians.”

He cast another look around the chamber.

“You have wronged Mandalore, but with this Act you have the opportunity to right this wrong,” Fett stated crisply.  He grimaced.  “Perhaps you will surprise me and actually do the right thing.”

He sat down.

Obi-Wan pushed a nudge of comfort, but also admiration in Jango’s direction.  Jango nudged him back with gratitude and friendship.

Mace stood up.  “I now call upon Sister Skywalker of the Order of Ashki to testify on behalf of the clones.”

Shmi rose in an elegant sweep of green robes.  She wore them the same way she wore the uniform of TASLA, as armour. 

“Galactic Law 408, clause 29 prohibits full body clones from being created within Republican space.  Organs are allowable but only via Republican authorised facilities.” 

She looked around the chamber, challengingly. 

“Many legal experts proclaim that this latter law enshrines the notion that clones are not sentient beings, yet the language never explicitly or implicitly suggests such a thing.  Indeed, there are no laws in the Republic which actually deal with the sentience and self-determination of clones.”

Shmi shifted.

“For those who are not Force sensitive, a single conversation with a clone would show they meet the Republican standard for sentience and sapience; intelligent, independent in thought and opinions, self-aware, emotive and capable of empathy for others,” Shmi continued.  “Some might argue that this is a mimicry of their genetic donor, but again, a single conversation will reveal the difference between any clone and the Mand’alor, whether differing opinions on a wide variety of topics, or in personality.  There are over a hundred female clones, another two hundred who prefer the pronouns they/them.”

Once again, she paused to survey the chamber.  Obi-Wan could see some were already nodding with her.  

“If the clones are sapient and sentient, how can the Republic fail to recognise this?” Shmi said.  “To vote against this Act is to say the clones have no rights; that they remain as the Kaminoans saw them – as products, as assets to be owned.  No right to citizenship, no right to self-determination, no right to food, medical care, shelter outside that which would be granted to them as charity by their slavers.  Sentient beings who would remain slaves.”   

Shmi waited until some of those muttering stopped.  “Galactic Law 201, clauses 9 through 20, have many words all amounting to the same thing: slavery is illegal.  One could argue should the Senate fail to vote for this Act, they are not only condoning slavery, but they are complicit in enslaving the clones – clause 19 holds that such a crime would lead to several months in prison if proven.”

Obi-Wan hid his smile.  

“I will close with this,” Shmi said, “the clones of Jango Fett shine in the Force with their own individual lights.  It was the will of the Force that they were created; it is the will of the Force that they be allowed to live without chains.  May the Force be with you all as you make this decision.”

A ripple of unease at the mention of the Force went through the chamber.  Neither Obi-Wan nor his pod companions showed any reaction to it, Shmi simply resuming her seat.

Mace nodded at Obi-Wan and he stood.

“We will now take your questions,” Obi-Wan said.

For a long moment, there was silence before a pod lit up.

Palpatine stood.  “The Chair recognises the Senator from Alderaan, Bail Organa.”

The Aldaeraan pod moved out into the open space. 

Bail nodded towards the Jedi pod.  “My Legislative Sub-Committee sponsors this Act so you’ve been kind enough to answer many of my questions and those of my colleagues already, but behind closed doors.  I would like to ask a number of questions to clarify matters for any of within the Senate who have not had that privilege.”

Obi-Wan inclined his head.

“Slavery is a criminal act,” Bail began.  “How does the Jedi Council justify the initial purchase of the clones?”

“The Council does not justify their purchase,” Obi-Wan replied calmly.  “It was done by a singular Councillor without the knowledge of the rest of the Council and wider Jedi Order.  We continue to investigate the disappearance of the particular Jedi Master involved, but as yet have been unable to trace his whereabouts beyond his last visit to Kamino.” 

He let his gaze travel from Bail around the rest of the chamber.

“Whether the Act is passed or not, the Jedi claim no ownership over any sentient beings: the clones are free to choose their own lives.”

Bail cleared his throat.  “There is an argument that the Jedi are not the owners; that the clones were created to be used by the Republic as an army to fight the rising threat of the Separatists and paid for by Republican money.  What say you to this?”

Obi-Wan dealt with the money technicality before moving on. “If the Republic through the Senate claims ownership of the clones as an army, then the Senate is complicit in an act of slavery.  The Jedi would of course assist the Judicial Forces in arresting any who made such a claim.”

He felt dismay and disgruntlement in some quarters as more muttering broke out.

Bail held up his hand and quiet descended.  “One final question: how do you answer the charge that the actions of the Jedi have led to establishing a threat against the Republic by handing Mandalore an army?”

Obi-Wan kept his hands tucked into his sleeves despite the urge to stroke his beard.  “Sentient beings are not possessions to be handed over from one party to another.  In relinquishing our ownership, we are simply stating a fact: we will not enslave the clones.”

He paused, considering his words.

“Jango Fett, the genetic donor of the clones, is Mandalorian and has named them as his children; this is his right,” Obi-Wan said, “they are therefore by the right of their birth, Mandalorian.” He glanced around the chamber.  “This Act makes provision for those working within Republican organisations or on Republican worlds to also be recognised as Republic citizens.  Sister Skywalker noted that all the clones have their own opinions and thoughts; not all the clones wish to be Mandalorian or recognise Jango Fett as their parent even if they acknowledge him as the Mand’alor.”

The chamber hummed as a smattering of new mutters broke out.

Obi-Wan shifted, lifting his chin.  “There is no doubt that the Republic and Mandalore has a tumultuous history, but today is a day to recognise peace between us.  As the Mand’alor has said, the Senate and the Jedi owe a debt for the destruction of the Haat Mando’ade.  Today, let us set that wrong to right and recognise the clones as free.”

A light applause broke out in one part of the chamber which gathered momentum and within a few breaths, it was deafening.

Bail gave Obi-Wan a sly triumphant grin.

Palpatine stood to silence the chamber as Bail zoomed his pod back to its docking bay.  “Are there any other questions for the Jedi?”  He waited a moment before giving a sharp nod.  “Then let us vote.”

Obi-Wan sat down. 

Jango pressed into him on one side, Shmi on the other. 

“Do you think we have enough support?” asked Shmi.

Mace nodded.  “The Force feels positive.”   

Shmi hummed.  “We owe Bail a food basket.”

Food baskets were traditional gratitude gifts on Ashki. 

Obi-Wan smiled.  “I’d think he’d prefer a bottle of aged Boggoo liquor.”

“You wouldn’t be advocating bribery, would you, Obi-Wan?” murmured Mace.

“Of course not,” Obi-Wan lied as Jango snorted beside him.

They chuckled.

Palpatine stood.  “The vote is closed.  I’m pleased to say that the Clone Freedom Act has passed with almost unanimous approval.”

A cheer went up from somewhere and the chamber echoed with noise.

Palpatine signalled for quiet, but he smiled genially at the happy crowd.  “May I be the first to congratulate the clones on their freedom and welcome all those who work within the Republic as Republican citizens.”

Palpatine’s eyes briefly met Obi-Wan’s across the chamber.  Obi-Wan nodded to him, plastering a pleased expression on his face at the Chancellor’s gesture.

“And our thanks to the Jedi Order for their masterful presentation, to their witnesses for their sterling testimony,” Palpatine continued.  He gestured expansively.  “And with that, I declare the Senate adjourned.”

Mace stood to direct their pod back to the dock where they were besieged by their party. 

“You were brilliant!” Korkie said as they began their walk out of the building.

Satine had ended up on Korkie’s right somehow.  Obi-Wan was aware that the impression was of a family as the three of them walked abreast.

He wasn’t surprised when a moment later Anakin appeared at his free side.  “Mom says they’re going to head to Dex’s for a celebration lunch with the clones.  Can we…”

“I think that’s a splendid idea,” Obi-Wan said.  “Are you able to come with us, Korkie?”

His son’s face fell even as he darted a look towards his friend behind him.  “We have to get back for class.”

“Ah, well, perhaps I can take you to Dex’s the next time we get together,” Obi-Wan offered.

“That sounds good,” Korkie said with a cheerful smile.

Obi-Wan stepped forward and hugged Korkie a little awkwardly since he was very aware of their audience, but he wasn’t ashamed of his son nor for his growing affection for him.

“Duchess,” Jango cut in, “you are free to see your son to his university class.”

Korkie glanced at his mother, but his hopeful expression stilled into one Obi-Wan recognised from his own mirror during his time as Qui-Gon’s padawan at the sight of Satine’s sour look; it was a carefully blank expression which hid a great deal of hurt at knowing they weren’t fully wanted.

“That is alright, Mand’alor,” Korkie said before Satine could speak. “The Republicans recognition of the clones’ rights was a victory for Mandalore which should be celebrated by all those who’ve worked to make it so, including my Aunt Satine.”

Obi-Wan ignored Satine to pat Korkie’s back.  “I’ll call you later and we can arrange that date at Dex’s.”

Korkie brightened.  He made a few more farewells to the people around them before his friend dragged him away to the public transport hub. 

Obi-Wan watched until Korkie was aboard the bus, aware Satine was hovering close by.

Shmi hooked her arm around his.  “You’ve made a good start with him.”

“Yes, I think so,” Obi-Wan said.  “He’s a…”

The Force screamed a warning.

Obi-Wan yanked Shmi down even as she reached for the blaster hidden in her robes and Anakin’s lightsabre flashed out and downed the dart thrown at his mother out of the air.

Padmé knelt beside them in her ornate dress.  “What’s happening?”

Anakin kept his lightsabre aloft.  “Someone just attempted to dart Mom!”

Another dart whistled through the air toward Padmé.  Before Obi-Wan could do anything, Anakin had smashed it to the ground.

“We need cover,” Obi-Wan said, looking up from his crouch towards the buildings across the street.

He caught the flash of a rifle…

The harsh ratatat had Obi-Wan pushing his hands outward, catching the slugs mid-air before they could hit.  He felt Mace join him, Yoda just behind.  They pushed with the Force to drop the slugs to the ground.

“Get to cover!” He yelled.

Shmi hurried Padmé and Anakin to the nearest pillar, although Obi-Wan was certain Anakin believed her was protecting his mother not the other way around.

:On three:

Mace’s voice echoed through Obi-Wan’s head.

:One:

:Two:

:Three:

They pushed the slugs back towards the assassin, dropped their Force shield and dived for cover, Yoda somehow ending up on Obi-Wan’s back.  They ended up behind the same low wall as Jango, Boba and his advisors.  Satine was behind another wall further back with hers, Obi-Wan was relieved to note.

“There!” Jango pointed at a fleeing figure across a rooftop.  He made as though to chase and Obi-Wan caught his arm.

“You, your men and the clones need to stay here,” Obi-Wan said firmly, “this is an attack on TASLA on Coruscant.  You can’t spend the political capital you’ve just gained for Mandalore.”

“Right he is,” Yoda said, clambering down.  He closed his eyes.  “A transport waiting, the assassin has, a speeder.”

Obi-Wan shouted over to Anakin who was closer to the street.  “Get us a speeder.”

Anakin glanced quickly at his mother and Padmé, his reluctance drifting through their bond, but he turned and ran off, following Obi-Wan’s order. 

“It doesn’t feel right to leave this to you,” Jango said tersely.

“You can help by keeping Shmi and Padmé safe,” Obi-Wan instructed.    

Jango frowned.  “You have the easier task.”

“So I do,” Obi-Wan said with a wink and ran out to meet the speeder Anakin screeched to a halt just in time for Obi-Wan to jump in, only to stare at R2 in the back seat.  He guessed he knew from whom Anakin had ‘borrowed’ the speeder.

“Hang on, Master,” Anakin said.  He took them straight up and over the lines of traffic still zooming about the air.  The assassin was ahead of them, darting in and out of buildings.

“Really, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said once his stomach settled, “was that necessary?”

“We need the speed,” Anakin said, “that model’s fast!”

R2 beeped loudly from the back.

“Stop back seat driving, R2!” Anakin protested.

Obi-Wan tried hard to project serenity as Anakin used the gears and the Force to push the engine of their own speeder.  They were suddenly parallel but on opposite sides of a row of tall apartment buildings.

“Don’t tell my mother about my nightmares,” Anakin suddenly blurted out as he dipped into a narrow opening between buildings in a sharp turn.

Obi-Wan caught his breath and carefully peeled his fingers away from the door he’d clutched in instinct.  “Is this really the best time to discuss this?”

Anakin glanced over at him.

“Eyes forward, Anakin!” Obi-Wan barked as they only just missed a cruising biker. 

R2 beeped a series of curses which Obi-Wan was tempted to repeat.

He breathed in.  He breathed out.  “I won’t tell Shmi if you tell me about the nightmare.”

Anakin grimaced.  “That’s dirty sabacc, Master.”

“All sabacc is dirty,” Obi-Wan reminded him cheerfully. 

The assassin dived to the lower levels, screaming through traffic without a care.  Anakin followed.

Obi-Wan reminded himself that he had the Force and could jump to safety if he needed to even as he Force pushed another speeder out of their way.

R2 screeched.

“It’s nothing,” Anakin muttered as they levelled out.  “It’s just stupid.”

“If it’s so unimportant, there’s nothing stopping you telling me,” Obi-Wan pointed out.  “Besides, nothing could be worse than the poem you wrote about Padmé.”

“I was ten!” Anakin yelped.

R2 beeped.

Obi-Wan said nothing.

Anakin gained again on the assassin’s speeder only for them to evade again.

“Padmé liked it,” Anakin said sulkily.

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan prompted gently.

After a long beat of silence, Anakin sighed.  “I was dreaming about Tatooine.  That’s why I don’t want Mom to know.”

“Of your childhood?” asked Obi-Wan, concerned.  He remembered all too well that Anakin’s dreams of his mother in the last timeline had likely been Shmi calling out for help through the Force.

Anakin shook his head as they zipped back up at a steep angle, the assassin just ahead of them.  “I dreamed Lollo was captured by slavers and wearing binders.  She was getting chipped and there was a man with her…” he shuddered.  “A feeling of evil.  She was scared and kept asking me for help, but I couldn’t move.”

Obi-Wan frowned, oblivious to the manoeuvre Anakin performed to catch-up again with the assassin.  Anakin’s dream sounded all too like a Force vision.  The question was whether it was of the present or the future. 

“Take the wheel, Master,” Anakin instructed him suddenly.

R2’s beeping had a significantly charged ring of alarm to it.

“What do you mean…” Obi-Wan hadn’t finished the question before Anakin was leaping out and onto the back of the assassin’s speeder. He swore roundly – both at Anakin and at Quin who had taught Anakin that move – and grabbed the wheel. 

He watched as Anakin got inside the speeder and threatened the occupant with his ‘sabre.  The assassin slowed and moved to park on top of a nearby building. 

Obi-Wan parked alongside the assassin’s speeder as Anakin manhandled them out of the transport and onto the roof.  The lizard-like female K’Lit knelt, hands behind their back and glared up at them with angry yellow eyes.

“I know you,” Anakin said harshly, his face flushed with temper.  “You worked for the Hutts.”

“I work for the Hutts,” the K’Lit spat out.  “Your mother destroyed us, but we will have our revenge!  If I can’t have her, I will settle for you and…”  Her hand went to her throat suddenly, her eyes wide and bulging as she began to choke.

“Who…”

Obi-Wan ignored Anakin’s startled question to seek the perpetrator through the Force.  The darkness was fleeting though, there and gone again.

The K’Lit slumped over, her eyes glassy in death.

“Great,” Anakin muttered, “this is just…”

Obi-Wan knelt beside the body and carefully nudged her hand. She was holding a vial of something, something that made the Force twitchy.  He lifted it from her grip using the Force.

“We should get this analysed,” Obi-Wan said.  He glanced back towards the Senate.  Had Sidious intervened and why? 

Anakin frowned, clearly disturbed.  “A Sith choked her from a distance, didn’t they?”

“I fear so,” Obi-Wan said.  “Unfortunately the Force offers no trace of them.  They’ve hidden themselves well.”

Anakin pressed his lips together.  “How do we defeat what we cannot find?”

“The Sith hides in the Dark, but we always have the Light; remember that, Padawan,” Obi-Wan said.

“Yes, Master,” Anakin said dutifully. 

Obi-Wan sighed.  They still needed to finish the discussion about Anakin’s dream, but there was a dead body and an investigation which needed to be progressed.  He shook himself.  “I’ll take the body and her speeder back to the temple.  You return the one you borrowed to Padmé.”

Anakin winced.  “R2’s going to lecture me all the way back, isn’t he?”

Obi-Wan patted his arm.  “It’s been nice knowing you, Padawan.”

o-O-o

The Council chamber was flooded with early morning sunlight highlighting the weary look upon the gathered Jedi, Mandalorians, Padmé and Shmi.  The only person who looked chirpy was Mother Ammi whose image was projected as though she was another member of the Council itself, her holo appearing beside Yoda’s chair.

Mace nodded at Obi-Wan.  “You led the investigation into the assassin.  What can you tell us?”

Obi-Wan turned and nodded at Anakin who tapped his commlink.  A holoprojection of the assassin appeared in the centre of the chamber. 

“Their name was Kir’Poth,” Obi-Wan began.  “My padawan and Sister Skywalker both provided witness testimony that they were a known member of Jabba the Hutt’s enforcement team on Tatooine.”

The picture changed to an arrest mugshot.

“When TASLA successfully routed slavery from the planet, Kir’Poth was arrested,” Obi-Wan continued, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his robes.  “Kir’Poth served five years for participation in the slave trade in a Republican prison.  She was released on probation which she immediately broke by fleeing.  There’s been a bounty for her capture posted since.”

Which no-one would be claiming, Obi-Wan mused silently.  He nodded at Anakin.

A picture of a ship took the place of the mugshot.

“We located her vessel,” Obi-Wan continued.  “A single person ship, HY-class from Nal Hutta.  They gained access to the space port using stolen access codes of a trader from Alderaan.  The ship has been dismantled by Master Ckis and his team.  They found several trips between Nal Hutta, Tatooine, Serrano and Cato Neimoidia in her flight log.”

“Serrano?” Adi questioned sharply.

Obi-Wan nodded sombrely.  “It’s clear that the Confederacy leadership has been in discussions with the Hutts and other slavers.”

Poof cleared his throat.  “We believe that they are negotiating an alliance.”

“Worrying, this is,” Yoda said, his ears drooping.  His fingers clenched on the top of his stick.

“What do they hope to achieve?” asked Piell sharply. 

“Territory and hyperspace lanes,” Obi-Wan said succinctly.  :Star-map, dear one; take them through it:

Anakin nodded and the projection shifted again to a map of the galaxy.  “This is a map of the current galaxy.”  An area lit up in orange.  “TASLA has confined the slavers to this section of the Outer Rim and pushed them into Wild Space.”  He changed the image again.  “This is how an alliance with the Confederacy would shape the map, if they reclaim the planets TASLA freed.”

“The Republic would lose key trade routes,” Mace proclaimed soberly.

“Some planets would be cut off completely,” Padmé noted, her young face pale.  “Naboo and its system would certainly find it difficult to trade.”

Shmi rested a hand on Padmé’s shoulder.

“Mandalorian space would be surrounded,” Jango noted grimly.

Satine shot him a worried look.  “You don’t think they’d attack us, do you?”

Jango snorted.  “They are slavers!  They have no honour.  They’ll attack any planet if they have the backing of an army to support them.”

“And that’s the concern,” Obi-Wan jumped in again before Jango and Satine could get to arguing.  “Their initial targets may be planets which have been freed, but they may get bolder and start to attack Republican planets with the knowledge that they have the Confederacy alliance behind them.”

Shmi cleared her throat.  “We can’t lose sight of the fact that the planets facing the greatest threat at present are the ones TASLA has freed.  Perhaps they’ll turn their attention to other planets eventually but they will focus on regaining what was lost first.”

Satine looked placated.

“You’re right, Sister Skywalker, and Tatooine is likely their first target,” Obi-Wan concurred.  “Master Vos and Knight Secura are tracking a mole there planted by Count Dooku.”

“This is a tactic to take us into a war,” Mace stated brusquely.  “TASLA will defend the planets they’ve freed and the Republic will have to make a decision.”  He glanced over to the Mandalorians.  “You may have to make a decision in the future.”

Jango bowed his head.  “Mandalore will do what is right for Mandalore,” he said stiffly.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat.  “The assassin’s target was Sister Skywalker and Lady Naberrie.  It is clear that they were aiming to weaken TASLA, perhaps as the first offensive of the war they are planning.”

“My kidnapping was the first offensive,” Shmi countered.  “The assassination attempt yesterday was their back-up plan.”

Obi-Wan conceded that with a bow of his head.  He motioned at Anakin who changed the projection.  “The darts were tipped in a rare poison from Jar’eth serpents.  Death would have been instant.”

The projection shifted to the vial they’d found.

“This was found in Kir’Poth’s hand,” Obi-Wan continued.  “The vial if broken would have released a deadly synthetic neurotoxin into the air.  My padawan and I would have been killed instantly along with the assassin.”  He motioned at the vial still being projected.  “The labs for this neurotoxin are found on Alka, a space station on the Outer Rim.”

“I have dispatched Knight Popu and Padawan Tano to investigate,” Poof informed the Council crisply. 

Obi-Wan almost smiled at the mention of his lineage brother and his former grandpadawan.  With the war and Anakin’s knighting delayed, Obi-Wan had nudged Feemor towards the feisty Togruta Initiate.  Ahsoka was already blossoming from Feemor’s calm but excellent teaching, while retaining the sass which had resulted in Anakin’s former nickname of ‘Snips.’

“Saved you were,” Yoda intoned gravely.

Obi-Wan nodded.  “Kir’Poth was Force choked to death by an unknown assailant.  There was a trace of Darkness in the Force but as soon as I tried to follow it, it disappeared.”

“Our working theory is that there is a Sith on Coruscant,” said Poof. 

“The Master, I assume,” Adi stated sharply.

Poof raised his upper arms in a light ‘don’t know’ gesture.  “It has been many years since Naboo.  It is more than likely that they have taken an apprentice.”

“Either way, why leave Master Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker alive?” Eeth asked pointedly.  His horns glistened in the sunlight as he turned to face Obi-Wan fully.  “No offence meant, Obi-Wan, but I would have thought a Sith would have taken the opportunity to avenge the death of their former apprentice or to have eliminated you both.”

“You’re right,” Obi-Wan said.  “On the face of it, a Sith has no reason to keep either myself or my padawan alive.”

Poof cleared his throat.  “We have heard of a new apprentice called Darth Tyranus for a number of years…”

Sharp questions rang out overlapping into a cacophony of noise rather than speech.

Yoda slammed his stick on the chamber floor and sent a disapproving look around the Council members.  “Explain you will, Master Poof, why only now, the Council hears of this!”

“Operational security in the matter of the Sith is my jurisdiction as Master of Shadows,” Poof said succinctly.  “I discussed the matter with Master Windu and we were in agreement to keep the information confidential until it became relevant.”

“Which it has,” Mace said dryly.  He gestured at Obi-Wan.  “During his vision of the future many years ago, Knight Kenobi saw Tyranus.  We had no proof of his existence.” 

“We posted Shadows near to the individual concerned, but they cannot get too close without endangering their own lives and so we had no proof that this individual was a Sith,” Poof noted.  “We finally had proof Tyranus truly existed when we discovered Kamino.  He was the Sith who forcibly compelled Mand’alor Fett into the clone contract and who made the arrangements for the clones beyond Master Sifo-Dyas’ original purchase.”

“His name came up in the investigation of the kidnapping of Sister Skywalker,” Mace said.  “Vos found evidence he’d planted moles on Ryloth and Tatooine.  That’s why he’s there now.”

“Spoken his identity, you have not,” Yaddle noted calmly.

“No,” Mace said regretfully, casting a look toward Yoda.  “Tyranus is a Fallen Jedi.”

Yoda’s whole body seemed to curl inwards.  “My former padawan, you believe it is.”

“We know Count Dooku is Darth Tyranus,” Poof said gently.  “His manipulations are clear in Master Jinn’s mind.  You would have discovered the truth when you helped heal Jinn.”

Yoda harrumphed, his fingers clenching on the top of his stick.

“The implications of this are…staggering,” Adi said quietly.  “Dooku leads the Confederacy as the Count of Serrano.  That the Sith are directing that side…it doesn’t bear thinking about!”

“Enjoy chaos, the Sith do,” muttered Yoda.

“I don’t understand why Count Dooku, or rather Tyranus, saved Master Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker,” Plo said.  “If he was the one who manipulated Qui-Gon then he clearly is hostile to Obi-Wan given he compelled to some degree Qui-Gon’s attack upon him.”

Poof inclined his long neck into a nod.  “We believe Tyranus sees Obi-Wan as a rival for his Sith Master’s affections.”  

Most of the Council stared at the Master of Shadows. 

“Knight Kenobi killed Darth Maul and Darth Plagueis to the benefit of Darth Sidious,” Mace stated.  “Additionally, Knight Kenobi is politically well-connected and held in high regard within the Order.  If the Sith Master could turn Kenobi…”

“A powerful Sith, you would make, Obi-Wan,” Yoda said.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said dryly.  “But just to assure everyone, I have no plans in that direction.”

“A relief for us all,” Shmi quipped.

There was a collective chuckle, but the Council and its visitors grew sombre as the news sank in.

“Is war inevitable?” asked Adi, her words rippling with anxiety that shivered in the Force.

“War is the aim of the Sith,” Poof confirmed.  “We have freed the clones and we believe that delayed the original plan, but it is difficult to see how we can avoid a conflict between the Confederacy and TASLA should the Confederacy follow through on an alliance with slavers.”   

“There are planets and systems within the Confederacy which will not like such an alliance,” Padmé noted.  “We should reach out to them.”

“That would be a good start,” Mother Ammi said.  “Efforts to bring those planets back to the Republic may counter any gains made elsewhere.”

“It may not be enough to stop the war,” Mace said. 

“But it would make it more difficult for the Confederacy to continue its alliance with slavers,” Shmi countered.  “Padmé, we should work out a diplomatic plan and start to consider how best we can deploy our team to enact it.”

Padmé nodded.

“In the meantime, my team and I should head back to Tatooine,” Shmi said.  “If Dooku, or rather Tyranus is looking to begin his campaign there, TASLA should start making preparations for defence.”

“You could not engage,” Satine slid in.  “If you retreat peacefully, there will be no war.”

“And slavery will run rampant,” Shmi replied sharply.  “We have a duty of care to the people on these planets.  Your own pacifism allows for defence.”

Satine subsided.

“Mandalore cannot support TASLA in its defence,” Jango stated brusquely.  “But more of my ade may choose to join their vode if fighting breaks out.”  He stood, forcing Satine to her feet along with the advisors they’d both brought.  “I will return to Mandalore and discuss this matter with my own people.”

“I’ve sent you all the intelligence we have collated to date,” Obi-Wan said.

“Thank you, Obi-Wan,” Jango said.  He cast a look around the Council.  “My ade are free and you have my thanks for your support in that endeavour.  I wish you good fortune against the dar’jetti. Ret’urcye mhi.” He tapped his chest in salute.

The Council stood and copied the gesture as did the rest of the Jedi in the room. 

“Ret’urcye mhi, Mand’alor,” Mace intoned.  “May the Force be with you.”

The Mand’alor swept out, the rest of the Mandalorians following in his wake. 

Satine shot Obi-Wan a regretful look over her shoulder before she disappeared through the doors.

There was a moment of shuffling as everyone took their seats once more.

Mace cleared his throat.  “Obi-Wan and I will brief the Chancellor first thing tomorrow morning, followed by the Senate Sub-Committees.”        

“Surely the Republic will support TASLA in defending the planets?” asked Adi.

Obi-Wan allowed a wince to cross his face.  “TASLA is not a Republic recognised organisation.  Its affiliation is loose and under the auspice of Ashki.  There is no obligation for the rest of the Republic to rally in its defence against slavers or the Confederacy.”

“But if the Confederacy invade Republican space and a Republican planet?” pressed Adi.

“I’m sure it will depend,” Obi-Wan sighed.  “It was not so long ago that Naboo was invaded by the Trade Federation and it was essentially left to defend itself although the Alderaans were persuaded to provide air support.”

“We have no guarantee of support if we defend Tatooine or any of the other planets we freed,” Shmi concluded.   Her gaze turned to the Council.  “Will the Jedi support us?”

Mace sighed heavily.  “We cannot without a mandate from the Senate.”

Shmi nodded and looked towards the holoprojection of Mother Ammi.  “With your permission, Mother, I think its best I returned to Tatooine.”

“Agreed, Sister Skywalker,” Mother Ammi said.  “Call me when you are on the way.  We will discuss reinforcements from Ashki to assist you.”

Shmi bowed to the leader of her Order.  She turned to the rest of the Council and bowed.  “May the Force be with you.”

There was a deep silence as Shmi and Padmé departed.

Anakin’s gaze remained on his mother until the chamber doors closed once more cutting off his view.

:We’ll go to her ship and wish her farewell, Anakin: Obi-Wan assured him.

Anakin sent a wordless pulse of gratitude through their bond.

“We cannot leave TASLA to fight the Sith alone!” Adi declared.

“Are you seriously suggesting we advocate for war?” asked Piell sharply.

“We cannot go against the Senate,” Rancesis countered with a sniff.

“The Will of the Force, we should follow,” Yaddle said.

“And what is the will of the Force in this case?” asked Plo.  “Have we asked?  Do we know?”

Mace rubbed his head.  “We know that we have a duty to eliminate the Sith, but we cannot act without the sanction of the Senate.  We must do all we can to present our evidence and get their approval to act.”

“What do you think, Obi-Wan?” asked Adi.

Obi-Wan grimaced.  “Should war come, Masters, we would be better served to stop the Confederacy and Tyranus before they gain too much ground, especially if their success returns sentients to slavery.  Yet we are bound to the Senate’s will in this matter.”  He motioned at the Council.  “Furthermore, arguably as peacekeepers, as Jedi, we should try for a diplomatic solution first.”

“Convince the Chancellor to support Lady Naberrie’s plan, you intend,” Yoda pointed a finger at him.

“I believe the only way we can divert a war is to have the Confederacy change its leadership and stop their alliance with the slavers,” Obi-Wan said. 

“Always in motion, the future is,” Yoda said sagely.

“And yet sometimes its path is set,” Obi-Wan replied, too many memories of a war he’d already fought (never fought), crowding the back of his mind and demanding his attention.

o-O-o

“…and I disagree!  There is no substantive evidence that this alliance between the slavers and the Confederacy even exists!” The Trade Federation Representative Moh Dod protested vehemently.

“We have testimony from the Jedi and from Sister Skywalker of Ashki,” Bail Organa leaned forward over the conference room table, his eyes glaring at Dod on the other side.  “What more do you need?”

Obi-Wan considered he was going to end up owing Bail a great deal of alcohol by the end of the meeting.

It was stifling in the Senate anteroom that had been chosen for the discussion on the way forward.  The table held thirty Senators, the Chancellor and two of his staff, Mace and Obi-Wan.  Anakin had fairly danced in relief that he was excused and could stay in the temple teaching some of the early lightsabre classes, reprogramming droids and practicing his flying skills. 

The initial briefing with the Chancellor and Sub-Committees had led to a Special Commission which had led to days of interminable meetings while the Senate debated whether they should do nothing or at least try to establish diplomatic relations with members of the Confederacy.

Obi-Wan felt he’d been stuck in the same four walls for far too many days arguing the same thing over and over.  In reality, he’d been stuck for ten days with the previous ten consisting of him running around the Senate ostensibly setting up the Special Commission on behalf of the Chancellor.

He resisted the urge to fidget, letting his frustration seep into the Force.  He hoped Quin was close to tracking down the Tatooine mole.  Somehow Tyranus’ operative had gotten wind that their cover was blown and had disappeared into the Tatooine desert.  Of course, that wasn’t enough to stop Quin who was an excellent tracker, Obi-Wan thought with a hint of pride in his lover.

“Perhaps we can set aside the issue of explicit evidence for the time being and focus on the primary question of whether it would be valuable to reach out to those members of the Confederacy who are most definitely anti-slavery, and who could perhaps be swayed back to us should the Confederacy ally with slavers openly,” Palpatine asserted smoothly.

It was a good line, one Obi-Wan had fed to him before the meeting in the hopes Palpatine would use it.

“Without evidence anything we say would look stupid!” Poj, the Senator from Polity stated bluntly.  The big gruff bear of a being was devoted to the Republic and one of Palpatine’s biggest advocates.

“Not necessarily,” Obi-Wan asserted smoothly, drawing Poj’s attention.  “Much of diplomacy is a hypothetical dance.  If this should happen, then perhaps they would see their way, and so on.”

Poj snorted.  “I’m not much of a dancer, not like you.”

It had probably been meant as an insult since the Polity valued brutal honesty in all things.

“Which is why Knight Kenobi would lead our efforts,” Palpatine slid in.  “He is an exceptional dancer, which is what is needed in this effort.” 

And that had not been discussed at all.

Obi-Wan kept his face expressionless as did Mace.  Bail looked gleeful as did Mon Mothma, the Senator from Chandrilla, who had been the second biggest advocate for diplomacy in the meetings.

Mace cleared his throat.  “The Jedi will, of course, support the Senate’s diplomatic efforts in this.”

Somehow, with that assurance, the next five minutes saw an actual agreement for diplomatic efforts secured and an action for Bail Organa to put together a Senate team who would work with the Jedi.  Palpatine deferred the question of how closely the Senate would work with TASLA to the next day and the meeting was adjourned.

The Chancellor requested for the Jedi to accompany him back to his office and they followed him dutifully.

Palpatine ushered them into the cosy seating area off to the far side where the large windows provided a spectacular view of Coruscant and the Jedi temple in the distance.  They all eschewed the offered refreshments.

“My apologies, Master Windu, and to you, Obi-Wan,” Palpatine said as he tucked his voluminous Naboo robes around him and sat down.  “I did not intend to simply declare your involvement in our diplomatic efforts without discussion.”

Mace inclined his head from his position in the chair opposite.  “Your declaration was unexpected in the moment, but not in the wider context.  We had expected some support to be requested, although we usually like to determine the allocation of resources ourselves.”

Palpatine smiled at the admonishing chastisement.  “I am afraid my own admiration for Knight Kenobi’s skills in negotiation prompted my rather rash statement.”  He turned to Obi-Wan.  “I hope you are not too unhappy with me, dear boy?”

“Of course not,” Obi-Wan demurred.  “Truthfully, I had hoped to be involved if the Force willed it.”

“I believe you are our best hope for peace in this matter,” Palpatine gushed, “ably assisted I’m sure by the chosen Senators.”

Obi-Wan nodded.  “Senator Organa is a very accomplished diplomat.  I’m sure he’ll choose his team wisely.”

“Indeed,” Palpatine said.  He sat back, steepled his long fingers in front of his chest and sighed.  “We should discuss TASLA before we reconvene tomorrow.”

Mace shifted subtly in his chair.  “You do not believe the Commission will want to coordinate with TASLA.”

“I do not,” Palpatine said, with fake regret.  “TASLA has a fantastic purpose, but it is a contentious organisation which is why the petition to recognise it last year was unfortunately rejected.”  He gestured towards Mace. “There are many in the Senate who feel that their methods are little better than terrorists.”  He paused.  “The massacre on Nar Shaddaa was most unfortunate.”

“TASLA denied any knowledge of the bombing of Zirro the Hutt’s wedding,” Mace said mildly.  “I’m inclined to believe them since they’ve never eliminated a slaver without freeing the slaves.  Our investigation suggested Jabu, Zirro’s brother, organised the bombing to eliminate his brother as a rival.”

There was a whole tangled love triangle which read like a Coruscant holo-opera, Obi-Wan mused.  The Shadow investigation had also found evidence that an unidentified third party had provided Jabu with the needed explosives.  It smacked of Sith interference.

“You may be right,” Palpatine acknowledged, “but many believe that it was TASLA and without explicit evidence to the contrary…” he opened his hands in a ‘what can we do’ gesture.  “It is the enmity towards TASLA that was the reason why the Senate insisted on the Special Commission rather than agreeing to military support in the event the planets under their protection come under attack.”

Mace nodded.  “The Jedi Council is in agreement that diplomatic efforts must come first.”

“Indeed,” Palpatine said, “and it is not as though we are able to muster an army in any case.”  He motioned sharply with one hand.  “Freeing the clones was the right thing to do, but if the Confederacy attacks, we have no military arm except the Judicial Forces and I fear they lack the strategic skills required to win a war.”

“I believe the avoidance of war is something we can all agree upon,” Mace said politely.

An aide coughed in the background before sliding in.  He whispered in Palpatine’s ear.

“My apologies, once more, I must regretfully move to my next engagement,” Palpatine said, rising to his feet.

Mace and Obi-Wan got to theirs and bowed respectfully before being ushered by the harried aide to the door.  They waited until they were on their way back to the temple in their speeder before speaking.

“I can’t say we wouldn’t have assigned you to support the Senatorial diplomatic team,” Mace sighed as he navigated them through the air.  “Are you truly fine with the assignment?”

Obi-Wan nodded.  “I expected it.”  He sighed.  “I didn’t realise that there was so much dislike of TASLA in the Senate.”

“The extent of their dislike is new,” Mace agreed.

“Manufactured?” enquired Obi-Wan delicately.

“Undoubtedly,” Mace said, “and conveniently hidden from us until now.”

“It’s part of his plan,” Obi-Wan said.  “While the Senate is anti-TASLA, Palpatine can argue to keep the Republic out of the war, maybe even blame TASLA for escalating violence, until the Confederacy threatens the Republic themselves.”

“We have time still,” Mace murmured.

“But how much?” wondered Obi-Wan out loud.  He could almost hear the tick of a clock counting down.

Obi-Wan pushed his concerns aside as they reached the temple.  He said goodbye to Mace and headed for his quarters.  The murmur of voices reached him as he closed the door of the apartment.  He smiled as he headed around the corner and into the living space.

Anakin sat on the sofa talking with Shmi who floated as a holoprojection over the small table in front of her son.  The blue image flickered as Obi-Wan approached.

“Master,” Anakin greeted him crisply.  “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”

The previous day’s meeting had ran long.

Obi-Wan smiled.  “We managed to secure an agreement to move ahead with diplomatic efforts with the Confederacy.”

Shmi’s expression brightened.  “Padmé will be pleased to hear it.”

Anakin flushed and visibly perked up at the idea of working closely with Padmé once more.

“Ah, well,” Obi-Wan explained the wrinkle of the anti-TASLA sentiment that they had discovered.  “It may mean working openly isn’t an option.”

Shmi shrugged.  “We can always find covert ways to support each other’s efforts.”

“How are things on Tatooine?” asked Obi-Wan.

“Tense,” Shmi said.  “The government here has been reluctant to prepare for an attack in case it worries the wider populace.  We’re doing as much as we can with the old slave networks as a result.”  She sagged, clearly tired.  “The problem is we don’t know when or how the attack will occur.  Planning for every contingency is just not possible.”  She gazed directly at Obi-Wan.  “Have you heard from Quin and Aayla?”

“We spoke over a week ago.  They’re deep into the desert beyond Mos Pelgo,” Obi-Wan said.  “Quin believes the mole is a Tatooine native and has a cave or other hidden nook.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Shmi sighed.  “Plenty of the population of Tatooine prospered enough under the rule of the Hutts to ignore the plight of the slaves.  Some lost quite a bit when the slaves were freed.  We tried to mitigate it, but…”

“But there’s only so much you could do for any particular individual when restructuring an entire planet’s political, economic and social infrastructure,” Obi-Wan said dryly.

Anakin huffed.  “Most of them didn’t deserve any help.  They never helped us.”

“Kindness is not given with the expectation of a returned gesture,” Shmi lectured her son briskly, saving Obi-Wan the job.

Anakin waved away the criticism.  “Most of those womp rats wouldn’t know kindness if it bit them on the…”

“Thank you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan interrupted his padawan smoothly.  “I’ll leave you to speak with your mother.  It was good to catch up with you, Shmi.”

“And you,” Shmi said.  “I’ll get Padmé to call you about the diplomatic plan.”

Obi-Wan nodded his agreement and set off to the kitchen to prepare a meal.  Anakin only spent a few more minutes talking with his mother before they signed off.  His padawan loped into the kitchen and began chopping the vegetables Obi-Wan had laid out on the counter.

“Stew?” asked Anakin with a small pout.

“Bantha stew,” Obi-Wan said.  “Dex gave me some steak when Korkie and I stopped in for dinner the other night.”

“How’s that going?” asked Anakin. 

Obi-Wan hummed thoughtfully.  “As well as I could hope,” he admitted.  “We’re getting to know each other and…he’s got a good head on his shoulders.  He’s been raised well.”

“He’s lucky to have you,” Anakin said loyally.

“Thank you, padawan,” Obi-Wan nudged him.  “How are things with you?  Not getting too bored here at the temple while I’m stuck at the Senate?”

Anakin shrugged.  “It’s been fine.  I got caught up on all my academic stuff and Master Drellig said I’m doing well with the ‘sabre teaching and I kind of enjoy it.”  He glanced over to Obi-Wan.  “How much longer do you think it’ll take?”

“Maybe another week before we have a workable team and plan,” Obi-Wan sighed.  “But then we should be on the move.”

“Thank the Force,” Anakin muttered.  He shuffled a little.  “Do you think we’ll get the chance to work with Padmé?”

“I’m certain we’ll arrange something even if we cannot be overt,” Obi-Wan said.  His gaze narrowed as he caught the shadows beneath Anakin’s eyes.  “Are you sleeping well?”

“Well enough,” Anakin replied before looking up into Obi-Wan’s knowing gaze and cringing.  “I just…I worry.”

Obi-Wan nodded slowly.  “Have you spoken to Lollo recently?”

Anakin shook his head.  “Not since the AgriCorps decided against leaving Tatooine.”  He sighed.  “She said she’d be careful.”  He grimaced.  “Perhaps we could meditate together later?”

“I’d like that,” Obi-Wan pointed at the pot on the stove.  “Now, I think you’ve mutilated that grumpa root enough, Anakin.  Add it in.”

Anakin rolled his eyes but followed his instructions and the two of them fell into their usual evening routine. 

It was late when Obi-Wan settled into the quiet of his bedroom.  He felt Quin’s absence keenly as he shivered under the cold sheets.  He breathed in.  He breathed out, and reached out with the Force through the bond they shared.

They were too far away for full communication, but the sense of Quin’s irritation with sand and tiredness from constant travelling floated through.  Obi-Wan sent a nudge of love and affection to him.  A rush of care and ‘missing you’ travelled back to him.  Obi-Wan wrapped himself up in the sense of Quin and closed his eyes as sleep pulled him under.

A harsh scream dragged him awake.

Obi-Wan’s eyes flew open and he leaped from the bed as nothing but pain resonated down his bond with Anakin.  His lightsabre sprang into his hand as he rushed through the apartment and into his Padawan’s room.

Anakin lay in a huddled heap on the floor of his room.  His eyes were scrunched tightly closed and he rocked back and forth trying to comfort himself.

Obi-Wan tossed his ‘sabre onto the bed and slid close to Anakin on the floor. 

:Anakin?:

Pain jolted down their bond.

Obi-Wan reached out carefully and placed a hand on Anakin’s shoulder.  Thankfully, his padawan leaned into the touch.  Obi-Wan manoeuvred to curl around Anakin gently, stroking a hand through his hair and humming softly.  He tried to reach out again mentally through their bond, easing the way with his love for Anakin only to flinch as he encountered a swirling mass of Dark; furious hurt and anger boiled in Anakin’s mind reminding Obi-Wan of the heat of Mustafar.  Anakin curled into himself more as Obi-Wan sent a wordless apology and assurances of love to combat the swirling Dark.

:Obi-Wan, do you need assistance?:

Mace’s calm mental voice soothed Obi-Wan’s own rising panic.  :Healers.  Anakin is in psychic shock:

:On our way:

Obi-Wan kept comforting Anakin physically and mentally as he waited for their arrival.  His heart was beating too fast in his own chest.  Anakin had Fallen. 

No.

Someone had made Anakin Fall. 

The apartment door banged open and Anakin pressed himself closer to Obi-Wan, whimpering.

The Force presence of Vokara Che filled Obi-Wan with relief.  The Master of Healers quickly assessed the situation.  “Let’s get him out of his room and into your bedroom, Obi-Wan.  He’s holding onto you as his source of safety and whatever happened here will need to be investigated.”

Obi-Wan nodded, unable to speak for the lump in his throat.  He waved Vokara’s assistance away and shifted to pick up Anakin.  It had been years since he’d been able to carry Anakin about and their relative heights made it difficult, but the Force helped and Obi-Wan carried his charge lovingly through to his room and set him down in the still warm sheets.

Anakin burrowed into them, hiding his face in Obi-Wan’s pillow.

“Stay with him,” Vokara ordered.  “Keep shielding his mind and comforting him.  I’ll walk you through getting him into a healing sleep.”

Light was breaking through the windows when Obi-Wan gently disengaged mentally from Anakin, following Vokara carefully back into his own mind-space.  He opened his eyes.

Anakin looked to be sleeping peacefully, but one hand was holding onto Obi-Wan’s pillow and the other clutched one of Obi-Wan’s own hands tightly.

“How is he?”

Obi-Wan turned to find Mace in the doorway. 

Vokara cleared her throat.  “Padawan Skywalker’s bond with his mother was torn out of his mind, likely by Count Dooku since there were traces of his Force signature along the wound.”  Shock resonated in her appalled tone.  “Unfortunately, during the attack Skywalker fought back and succumbed to the temptation to fight with the Dark Side of the Force.  He lost his centre and might have been lost to the Dark completely if he hadn’t reached out for help from his Master.”

Obi-Wan rubbed his head.  “The only way for Dooku to have torn at the bond the way he did is if he has Shmi.”

Mace nodded sombrely.  “We received a distress call from Master Specialist Ja’rl just before Padawan Skywalker’s collapse.  Tatooine has fallen to a full-scale invasion from the Hutts, supported by Confederacy aligned battle cruisers. They used droids to invade and secure all the major cities.”  He paused. “We lost communication with the AgriCorps post an hour ago.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes again and reached for his bond with Quin, sending a wordless pulse of panicked query. 

The wait before Quin responded with a wave of assurance underscored by determination and focus made him weak with relief.

“Vos?” asked Mace.

Obi-Wan looked over at the Head of the Order and nodded.  “He’s alive.  Focused.  He and Aayla were tracking the operative in the desert, they may have missed the fighting near the cities.”

“Good,” Mace said.  “He’ll know to get somewhere to send a communication.  We’ll be able to find out what’s happening.”

“The Senate?” asked Obi-Wan.

“The Chancellor confirmed they’d received a communication from the Hutts declaring that they were restoring their rule over Tatooine with the help of their new allies, the Confederacy.  They’re holding an emergency session in an hour.”

Obi-Wan’s heart sank.  “He’s asked for me, hasn’t he?”

“He has,” Mace confirmed.  “I didn’t want to reveal what had happened with your padawan so he is expecting you.”

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose.  He didn’t want to leave Anakin, but he couldn’t let Palpatine know the extent of Anakin’s injuries nor could he deny he had a duty to attend the Senate and try to persuade them to action in the face of the Confederacy’s attack.

“I’ll ask Feemor and Bant to sit with him,” Obi-Wan said.  Anakin loved Bant, and he had always admired Feemor.  He had helped Feemor refine his leg prosthetics.

“I’ll inform them and bring them up to speed with Padawan Skywalker’s care,” Vokara said. 

“Will he recover?” asked Mace bluntly.

“With time and care,” Vokara said.  “We’ve got his shields back in place, the torn bond is muted, and Obi-Wan was able to centre him back in the healing power of the Light.  He will have much work to do to heal the wounds of his foray into the Dark.  He may never be stable enough in the Light to pass his Knight trials.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly on the pain of that.  He and Anakin had been working so hard towards the Trials…Anakin would be devastated. 

“He is a Knight,” Mace declared.

Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped open.

“He has faced a Trial like no other in fighting off a Sith psychic attack,” Mace said firmly.  “He found his way back to the Light.  He has passed his Trial.”

“Master Yoda will not agree,” Obi-Wan said mildly.

Mace shrugged.  “Master Yoda is on retreat healing his grand-padawan.”

Obi-Wan stroked his thumb over Anakin’s hand. 

Vokara placed a soft hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder and squeezed gently.  “Stay with him, Master Kenobi.  I’ll retrieve Bant and Feemor.”

She swept out before he could thank her for her help. 

Mace nodded to him.  “I’ll liaise with Rael and see if we can’t learn anything more about the attack.  I’ll get things ready for us to go to the Senate, you focus on Knight Skywalker.”

Obi-Wan offered a tremulous smile.  “Thank you, Mace.”

Finally he was alone with Anakin once more. 

Obi-Wan smoothed a lock of hair away from Anakin’s forehead and let his fingers drift over the padawan braid. 

It seemed despite all of his planning, all of his attempts to keep Anakin from Falling, that nothing had been enough.  He hadn’t foreseen Dooku capturing Shmi and attacking Anakin through the familial bond he shared with his mother.

Anakin’s love for his mother was fierce.  Knowing Dooku was hurting her, had her in his grasp…Obi-Wan sighed.  Anakin had scared himself, lashing out with the Dark to force Dooku from his mind only to almost lose himself to the darkness.  Obi-Wan had helped him back to the Light, but he knew Anakin would have to continually make the choice to stay there and it was going to be difficult with the challenges the war was going to bring.

Anakin could do it, Obi-Wan thought determinedly.  He’d have help and support and love.  He closed his eyes again and hoped beyond hope that Shmi was alive.

Feemor’s calm presence washed over him.  His lineage brother dropped a kiss on the top of Obi-Wan’s head and gently pried his grasp from Anakin’s hand, wrapping his own around Anakin’s fingers.

“We have the watch, brother,” Feemor promised.

Obi-Wan smiled as Ashoka climbed on the bed and sleepily cuddled into Anakin’s back.  “If he wakes…”

“I’ll comm you,” Feemor said, “and I’ll tell him you are with him.”

Obi-Wan could not speak, he inclined his head in silent gratitude before sliding away to get ready for the Senate.

o-O-o

“Tatooine is not a Republican world!”

“How can we stand by and simply watch the Confederacy wage war against innocents?!”

“Tatooine is protected by Ashki which is a Republican world!”

“Ashki and TASLA brought this disaster upon Tatooine!”

“The Hutts are valid rulers no matter how much we may dislike it!”

Obi-Wan exchanged a glance with Mace.  The atmosphere in the Senate was angry and hostile.  They remained seated in their pod as the Chancellor tried to calm the cacophony to enable an actual debate.

Palpatine finally lost patience.  “ENOUGH!”

His sharp rejoinder held a hint of being magnified by the Force, although nobody but the Jedi noticed.

“Are we elected representatives of our citizens or are we nothing but a rowdy rabble?” Palpatine snapped.  “We will have a polite debate in this chamber!”  He glared around the pods.  “I call upon the Jedi to provide a report on the situation on Tatooine.”

Mace navigated their pod to the centre of the chamber.  “Approximately four hours ago, we received notification from our AgriCorps team on Tatooine that they were under attack.” 

He tapped a button on the console and the holoprojectors within the chamber played out the scene above Tatooine; large battle cruisers in the sky, smaller vessels carrying droids to the surface, blaster fire on the ground…

“They requested we send help immediately,” Mace said mildly.  “About one hour later, Padawan Skywalker suffered a Force event.  He shares a familial bond with his mother, Sister Shmi Skywalker.  He learned his mother had been taken hostage by Count Dooku of Serrano, the leader of the Confederacy of Independent Systems.  Dooku attempted to remove the bond Padawan Skywalker and his mother share.”

There was a grave silence within the chamber.

“Such an attack through the Force is the act of a Darksider,” Mace said clearly.  “The Jedi formally renounce Count Dooku as a former Jedi Master.  We strip him of his Jedi titles and repudiate him from our Order.  We name him as Sith.”

That caused a stir of murmurs.

Obi-Wan felt a pull mentally and a brief check confirmed his suspicion that Anakin was awake.  He sent a soothing wave of love through their bond, wrapping his padawan in a mental hug.  Anakin responded weakly, but he responded and Obi-Wan breathed out in relief.

Mace held up a hand for silence.  “Since the news broke, we have consulted with various Jedi Knights stationed on the Outer Rim.  Tatooine is under a communications blackout and there is a blockade around the planet.  One report from a bounty hunter who escaped the planet stated that the populace is being rounded up and placed in camps.  The Hutts intend to enslave everyone whether they were former slaves or not.  Unfortunately without further reports we cannot say anything more.”

Palpatine nodded gravely. 

“We ask the Senate to authorise a humanitarian effort for the Jedi to help restore peace on Tatooine,” Mace said.  “At the very least, we seek permission to retrieve our AgriCorps members.  I do not need to expound on what the Hutts will do with Force sensitive slaves.” He cast a look around the chamber.  “Thank you.”

Palpatine rose.  “The Chair recognises Mon Mothma, the Senator from Chandrilla.”

The stately looking Senator Mothma drove her pod close to Mace’s. 

“We all know whether we want to admit it or not that this act by the Confederacy of Independent Systems is the first act of an intent to expand their territory beyond their own boundaries which the Jedi forewarned us about almost four standard weeks ago.  We cannot ignore that this act endangers our own stability,” she declared.  “Yesterday, the Special Commission agreed to form a diplomatic team to engage with Confederate members who may yet not wish to ally with slavers, to be at the forefront of endorsing the trade of sentient beings.  We should at the very least continue with that effort.”  She looked towards the Jedi with sympathy. “I cannot endorse military activity at this time.  I know from the discussions in the Commission that your own people were informed of your suspicions and chose to remain on Tatooine.  As much as I have sympathy for their plight for the Republic to authorise the Jedi to retrieve their personnel…the Confederacy may very well take that as a declaration of war.”

She was not the first to espouse such an opinion and Senator after Senator lined up to basically say the same thing, some in more supportive tones than others.

Obi-Wan was not surprised when Senator Poj was recognised and invited to speak. 

Poj’s brow furrowed deeply, his fur creasing into folds.  “We cannot afford a war.  We have no-one to fight it and we have no money to pay for it.  Diplomatic efforts should continue, but we should not do anything to provoke the Confederacy into a fight with the Republic itself.”

“The Chair recognises Sister Anyo, the Senator of Ashki,” Palpatine said.

Anyo was an older member of the Order of Ashki.  She was of the temple clan, the older biological sister of Ammi.  Her slim wisp of a figure was draped in the green robes of the Order.

“We should not mince words,” Anyo said bluntly.  “The Confederacy’s alliance with slavers, their attack on Tatooine, is a declaration of war against the Republic.  You may fool yourselves into believing that just because they have not put a droid into Republic space yet that we are not at war, but you would be wrong.”

A roar of protest erupted from some members and Palpatine had to call for order.

“Ashki accepts the Confederacy’s declaration of war; Ashki accepts the Hutts’ declaration of war; Ashki will respond to the aide of its stranded citizens with or without the approval of the rest of the Senate,” Anyo said.  “The Order of Ashki would encourage the Jedi Order to join us.”  She zipped back to her dock and left even as the calls for Ashki to be censured were heard.

Senator Bibble, formally the Governor of Naboo, was called upon next.  “I fear that I can understand all too well the plight of Ashki and Tatooine in this matter.  We can condemn the Hutts and the Confederacy but our own ability to act is constrained.  Nobody wants a war, yet sometimes war comes whether we want it or not.”  He took a breath.  “What is clear is that we will need strong and decisive leadership through this time.  I propose the Emergency Powers Act which will enable Chancellor Palpatine to be the leader we need him to be and bring that strong and decisive leadership we require to survive the battles ahead.”

Debate erupted on the Act and Mace allowed himself a small sigh of frustration.  There was a line between his brows which told Obi-Wan that Mace was suffering a headache.

By the end of the Senate session, there had been three votes.  One vote approved the Emergency Powers Act, extending Palpatine’s term indefinitely and giving him a number of legislative options to bypass the Senate.  The second vote approved a formal condemnation of the Confederacy for its alliance with slavers and stated that the Republic did not recognise the Hutts as a legitimate government on Tatooine.  The third vote approved the Senate’s Special Commission to open diplomatic talks with Confederate planets and systems but rejected any militaristic action to retrieve Republican citizens. 

Bail caught them as they exited their pod.  “I’m sorry the vote didn’t go the way you wanted, Master Windu, Obi-Wan.”  

“We abide by the wishes of the Senate,” Mace replied brusquely.  “If you’ll excuse us, we have much work to do at the temple.”

“Obi-Wan, I was hoping we could spend some time working out the logistics of the diplomatic efforts,” Bail’s hopeful expression pulled at Obi-Wan, but he could feel Anakin’s distress through their bond and shook his head.

“I need to return to the temple for a time,” Obi-Wan said firmly. 

“I can send a team to assist you shortly, Senator Organa,” Mace interjected.  “Master Kenobi’s involvement may have to be re-examined.  As we explained, Padawan Skywalker was attacked; Master Kenobi will need to spend time with him to help him heal.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bail sighed, his handsome face falling.  “You’re an excellent negotiator, Obi-wan.  We could really do with you on the team.”

“What’s this?” Palpatine appeared through a side door.  His aides trailed in his wake.  The Chancellor turned and grasped Obi-Wan’s hand before he could avoid him.  “My dear boy, this is upsetting news indeed!  How is your young padawan?”

“Healing,” Obi-Wan said succinctly.  “Forgive me, Chancellor, but I must attend him.  It has been a difficult night and he still has to hear the news that the Republic voted against taking action to save the people of Tatooine and his mother.”

“Of course,” Palpatine patted his hand.  “If you need anything, please just let me know.  May the Force be with you.”

Obi-Wan bowed his head.  He and Mace turned and left without further interruptions.  His mind raced with too many thoughts and ideas as they sped through the Coruscant early morning traffic back to the temple.

Mace parked the speeder and looked at Obi-Wan with a frown.  “You’re positively breaking out in shatter-points,” he grumbled.  “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking the Council will abide by the Senate’s decision,” Obi-Wan said tersely. 

Mace sighed.  “You know we have to, Obi-Wan.  For all the changes we’ve made to our relationship with them, open defiance is still too dangerous a path.”

“For the Jedi as a whole, I agree,” Obi-Wan concurred.  “What if…what if I walked the path alone?”

“You want to defy the Senate?” There was a note of incredulity in Mace’s voice.

Obi-Wan shifted in his seat to fully face Mace.  “Anakin will want to rescue his mother and Padmé.  He’ll leave the Jedi and he will struggle to stay in the Light.  I watched him Fall in one lifetime and lose everything, I will not watch him do so again.  If we both appear to leave in protest at the decision…I can help him.”  He gestured.  “Palpatine will see this as the schism we need.  I can try and use this to get closer to him and find the evidence we need to stop him.”

“You’re talking about leaving the Jedi,” Mace argued.

“I’m talking about a long-term Shadow operation for myself and Anakin,” Obi-Wan countered.

Mace sighed heavily, looking tired and drawn.  “You are a pain in my ass, Obi-Wan.”

“You know this will work,” Obi-Wan argued.

Mace threw up his hands.  “We need to discuss this with Poof.”

“Can you do that while I check on Anakin?” asked Obi-Wan.

Mace nodded.  “Go, check on your padawan.”

Obi-Wan left the speeder and hurried into the temple.  He entered his quarters at a clip to find Feemor sitting with a caf in the living room and Bant making soup in the kitchen.

“Ahsoka?” Obi-Wan enquired softly.

“At class,” Feemor said.  “Anakin insisted on listening to the outcome of the Senate hearing over the holonet.  It upset him greatly.  He’s been in your room since and won’t talk to us.”

Obi-Wan nodded.  “I feared as much.”  He made for his room, giving one short sharp rap before entering.  He closed the door behind him.

Anakin sat cross-legged on the floor at the bottom of the bed facing the window, his lightsabre placed on the ground in front of him. 

Obi-Wan sat down next to him.  “Padawan.”

Anakin shook his head, tears glistening in his eyes.  “I can’t stay, Master.  I can’t…” his voice broke.  “He has my mother, and I don’t know what’s happened to Padmé, and I have to do something.”  He bowed his head.  “I was going to cut my braid, but I can’t…everything hurts inside and the Dark is waiting for me and I need you and…”

Obi-Wan pulled Anakin into a tight hug.  “Hush, it’s alright, Anakin.”

“It’s not!” Anakin sobbed into his neck.  “I need to save my Mom, Obi-Wan, but Dooku wants me to come to him!  He wanted me to Fall and become his apprentice, Darth Vader.  He said Qui-Gon had already seen it happen when he was loco and…”

“You will not become Vader,” Obi-Wan eased back and cupped Anakin’s face between his hands, wiping away the tears which had fallen.  “Do you trust me, Anakin?”

Anakin nodded. 

“Once upon a time, Vader was your future,” Obi-Wan said gently.  “I have seen it too, but the future is always in motion and the Dark Side is always a choice, and last night you Fell but you got back up and chose to stay in the Light.  You keep making that choice, Anakin, and you will never become Vader.”

Anakin trembled but he nodded his understanding.

“We’re going to Tatooine and we’re going to rescue your mother and Padmé,” Obi-Wan said, holding Anakin’s gaze firmly, “and hopefully Quin and Aayla are safe and will help us.”

“But the Senate…”

“The Senate has done what they believed was right,” Obi-Wan said briskly. “The Jedi will follow the will of the Senate in this, but what does the Force tell you, Anakin?”

Anakin shook his head.  “I Fell, Obi-Wan.”  His gaze was misery and guilt.  “I can’t feel the Force.  Everything feels muddy.”

“Then take my hand,” Obi-Wan said calmly. 

Anakin slid his fingers around Obi-Wan’s offered palm.  They breathed in.  They breathed out.  The Force surrounded them, the Light easing away the shadows of darkness in Anakin’s mind.  It hummed with approval for their plan and wrapped them in a comforting embrace.

Anakin’s next breath was close to another sob.

“I need to make arrangements,” Obi-Wan said softly.  “But this morning, Mace declared you a Knight and a Jedi Knight you shall be even if we operate in Shadows.  Do you understand, Ani?”

Anakin nodded and swiped at his face.  “Thank you, Obi-Wan.”

“You never need to thank me, dear one,” Obi-Wan pressed a kiss to Anakin’s forehead.  “Now, wash-up and get ready.  We’ll leave for Tatooine as soon as I return.”

o-O-o

Palpatine was struggling to hide his glee as he welcomed Obi-Wan into the sitting room of his plush apartment. 

Obi-Wan had visited before for dinner and drinks, sometimes as part of a group, sometimes alone.  He ignored the rich furnishings and focused on his mission.  He was glad that much of his ‘act’ wasn’t going to be an act.

“I need your help,” Obi-Wan began as Palpatine ushered him into a comfy chair by a roaring fire.

Palpatine reached for Obi-Wan’s hand and Obi-Wan grasped Palpatine’s with a tight grip which spoke of desperation.

“Anything, dear boy,” Palpatine said.  “How can I aid you?”

Obi-Wan made to speak, paused and wet his lips as the words stopped in his throat.  He took a breath.  “I’ve left the Jedi.”

Palpatine’s eyes widened in genuine surprise.  “My dear Obi-Wan…”

“My padawan…Anakin,” Obi-Wan forced himself to talk.  He just had to tell Palpatine enough of the story to sell it.  “He was injured most grievously by Dooku.  He worries for his mother and…he wants, no, needs to go to Tatooine and save her.  I understand his frustration because…Quin is still there investigating that whole matter with Dooku’s mole…but with the Senate decision, the Jedi Council won’t authorise a rescue mission for our people nor for Sister Skywalker.  He was going to leave and I…I couldn’t let him go alone.”

“Of course, you can’t,” Palpatine said comfortingly.  “I know how very important he is to you, Obi-Wan.”

“We need help though, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan lowered his gaze and allowed a blush to rise on his face.  “We have nowhere to go nor much in the way of funds and…we need to get to Tatooine.”

“I see,” Palpatine said, arranging his face into something resembling regret.  “Unfortunately, my dear, when I said anything, admittedly I did not consider a request which would put me into conflict with the Senate vote.  A safe place?  My home is your home.  Funds?  I can support you until you find income of your own.  But assisting you in travelling to Tatooine…”

“I know it’s a lot and I’ve thought of that,” Obi-Wan said, shifting position nervously. 

Palpatine raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“Your new legislative powers allow you a lot of leeway in determining humanitarian missions,” Obi-Wan hurried out.  “If you were to authorise a mission to diplomatically ask the Hutts to release the Republican citizens who were caught up in the conflict on Tatooine…along with sending medical aid to any who require it…”

Palpatine stroked Obi-Wan’s hand.  “What an interesting and clever idea.”  He clearly considered it; his brow creasing as he ruminated over the implications.  “It’s a very fine line you are drawing, dear Obi-Wan.”

“A line which would be difficult for the Confederacy to cross,” Obi-Wan argued passionately.  “A diplomatic envoy requesting the return of citizens caught in the crossfire is difficult to refuse if they wish to maintain the illusion that they are not intending to attack the Republic in due course.”

“If they refused, they would essentially be declaring war,” Palpatine said.  “They may act upon that by attacking a Republican world sooner in response.”

“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan acknowledged, “but you and I know that allowing the Confederacy to gain too much ground before a war is formally acknowledged by the Senate would be disastrous strategically.  It would be better to force them to show their hand sooner.”

Palpatine gently let go of Obi-Wan’s hand and paced away to the large window.  He looked out at the Coruscant night sky buzzing with electric light.  “If I use my powers so quickly…I fear I may lose some political ground.”

“There will be others who applaud your strong and decisive leadership,” Obi-Wan stood and walked over to stand next to Palpatine.

Palpatine peered at Obi-Wan keenly. “If I do this, I must have your promise, Obi-Wan, that you will remain my advisor, my General, through this mission and in any war which arises from its ashes.  I must know that I will not lose you back to the Jedi when the Senate votes for action.”

“I doubt the Jedi would welcome a maverick such as I back without censure; they didn’t the last time I left,” Obi-Wan said. “And in any case, I wouldn’t return without Anakin.” All true from a certain point of view.  “As long as you remain as Chancellor,” and not as an Emperor, he added mentally, “I will remain as your advisor.”

Palpatine’s eyes lit up with satisfaction.  “Then we should work out the details of your humanitarian plan, Obi-Wan, and what you will need to convince Count Dooku and the Hutts that we wish the release of citizens will due haste.”

Obi-Wan breathed out slowly.  “Thank you, Chancellor.”

“And one more condition, Obi-Wan,” Palpatine smiled at him slyly.  “I really must insist you call me, Sheev.”

Obi-Wan winced but nodded.  “Sheev…thank you, Sheev.  I am in your debt.”

Palpatine liked that, Obi-Wan noted.  There was a greedy smugness that drifted across his face before Palpatine smoothed his expression and ordered refreshments from a droid.

Obi-Wan strengthened his shields and followed Palpatine through to his home study.  It was time to plan a rescue.

o-O-o

“We’ll be coming out of hyperspace in ten, General Kenobi.”

General.

Force but Obi-Wan hated resuming that particular title.  He repressed the urge to sigh and instead thanked the waiting clone commander – his former clone commander, Marshall Commander Cody. 

Once Palpatine had informed the Senate of his decision to authorise a diplomatic rescue mission with a civilian Obi-Wan in charge, a call had gone out to all Republican citizens wishing to volunteer.  Cody had left the ExploraCorps along with many of his brothers to answer the call – all of them wishing to assist the vode serving in TASLA who had been on Tatooine.

The ship Palpatine had gifted them was one of the venator class star destroyers.  It was fully armed to the teeth, with gunships, star-fighters and laser cannons.  The clone battalion that had formed to support the mission had quickly taken control of its operations and the ship ran like a dream.

Anakin hovered beside Obi-Wan anxiously.  He had held off another psychic attack from Dooku with Obi-Wan’s help, but his sleep was plagued with dreams of Lollo, his mother and Padmé all suffering under the yoke of slavery.  Obi-Wan was just pleased Bant had been assigned to support as part of the Jedi contingent on the mission.

She and Feemor who had also been assigned, (although Ahsoka had been left behind to attend classes at the temple), were both aware that he and Anakin had a shadow mission which necessitated them appearing to leave the Jedi. 

Jango had known there was more to the story than the publicly released statement that Obi-Wan felt the Force called him to a different service and had sent a message of support.  Satine had sent another invitation to join her on Mandalore; for him to resume his place by her side since he’d left the Jedi behind.  He’d politely refused.  Thankfully Korkie found his mother’s attempts to make them all one big happy family amusing.  Obi-Wan hadn’t told Korkie the full truth; his son was young to trust that he wouldn’t reveal the truth unintentionally.      

Obi-Wan sent a nudge of calm in Anakin’s direction before turning to Feemor who had joined him on the bridge.  Feemor had received a message from the Jedi Council and, maintaining the illusion of Obi-Wan’s status as a former Jedi, had left to read it in private.

“Master Popu,” Obi-Wan bowed his head a touch.  “Good news, I hope?”

“Unfortunately not,” Feemor said.  “We have received news that a rogue Jedi might be on their way to Tatooine.”

“You mean apart from Obi-Wan?” Bant asked slyly.

Anakin smiled at the joke.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at Bant.  “Thank you, Knight Eerin.”

“Apparently Qui-Gon left the temple at Kab’ere as soon as Yoda headed back to Coruscant,” Feemor sighed.  “His healers believed he’d been recalled too and didn’t question his departure.”

“Well, that’s a delightful complication we don’t need,” Bant complained.  “What if he tries to kill Obi-Wan again?”

“Maybe he’s coming to kill Dooku for screwing with his mind,” Anakin muttered, crossing his arms over his chest tightly.

“We can only hope,” Obi-Wan sighed because Bant was right; Qui-Gon was a complication they didn’t need.

Cody cleared his throat.  “Is this Qui-Gon Jinn a threat to you, General?”

“He’s a complication,” Obi-Wan reiterated.  “Qui-Gon is my former Master.  He was mentally injured in a Force event a number of years ago and Count Dooku, who is his former Master, took advantage of him and…” he searched for a better way to describe it, “and screwed with his mind.  In his altered state, he attacked me.”

“Tried to kill you,” Bant corrected.

“We should assign a protection detail for you, sir,” Cody said after a pause.

“Thank you, Commander, but that won’t be necessary,” Obi-Wan said firmly. 

Bant exchanged a look with Cody which suggested there was going to be a protection detail for him whether he wanted one or not. 

He ignored it and focused on the battle ahead.

“Are we clear on the plan?” asked Obi-Wan.

Feemor nodded sharply.  “We enter orbit.  We request a meeting with Dooku and the Hutts to discuss the repatriation of Republican citizens.  We attend the meeting hopefully on the surface…”

“Sister Anyo uses the opportunity to sneak in and rescue my mother from Dooku,” Anakin interjected.

“…we wait for the diplomatic efforts to fail spectacularly,” Bant continued.

“…and we confront Dooku on the matter of his crimes against Qui-Gon, Anakin and Sister Skywalker,” Feemor concluded cheerfully.  “Marshall Commander Cody and his brothers will come rescue us when it all goes horribly wrong.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at his lineage brother and focused on his pale-looking padawan.  “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to go with Sister Anyo on the rescue mission for your mother?”

Anakin shook his head.  “Something is telling me I need to stick with you, Master.”

“Right,” Obi-Wan straightened his shoulders as the ship fell out of hyperspace, “places, everyone.”

o-O-o

The Hutt palace had been cleaned out and turned into a hospital under the freed regime, it was horrifying and disconcerting to walk through the door and see it once again a slaver’s den of vice and misery.

Obi-Wan spared a thought for the fate of the patients and hospital staff as he took his place in the centre of the room and waited for Juba the Hutt to recognise him.  He felt Anakin tense beside him and followed the direction of Anakin’s stare to find Padmé sprawled at the base of the throne, scantily dressed in a gold bikini and gauzy skirt; she was also wearing a gold collar and chain.

Obi-Wan forced himself not to react.  :Easy, Anakin, she’ll be free shortly:

Looking around was difficult.  There were many Tatooine natives collared and battered.  The former Governor, Jiba, a wise woman from Mos Eisley was locked in a cage which hung from the ceiling as though as she was a decorative pet. 

Dooku was nowhere in sight. 

A familiar mental nudge knocked against his mind and he sent a rush of love and affection back to Quin.  It seemed his lover was close.  That thought was substantiated when Aayla swanned by carrying food, almost as scantily clad as Padmé. 

Juba was a shade or two darker than his late Uncle Jabba, but he was still an overweight slimy slug with oversized eyes and mouth.  He burbled a stream of Huttese.

His major domo translated into Basic.  “What does the venerable Jedi want with his wondrous Majesty, Jabu, that they risk walking on his sand?”  It wasn’t the exact translation.

“We are not Jedi,” Obi-Wan replied in Huttese.  “It is public record that myself and my padawan have left the Jedi to undertake this personal humanitarian mission on behalf of Chancellor Palpatine.”

Jabu grumbled out another question.

“The Chancellor wishes for all Republican citizens who were on Tatooine when you reclaimed the planet for the Hutt Empire, to be repatriated to Republic Space,” Obi-Wan handed the Twi’lek major domo the datapad. “The Chancellor’s request is contained on this. As you aware from our communication, we have a ship in orbit ready to take our people home.”

Jabu huffed and burbled another stream of Huttese.

Obi-Wan lifted an eyebrow.  “It is most disconcerting to hear that you are unable to make the decision alone without the…guidance of Count Dooku, Your Majesty.  Our apologies we thought you were fully in charge here on Tatooine.  The Chancellor was unaware that the Hutts had become members of the Confederacy.”

Jabu’s affronted scowl, his drool as he spat out a denial; the Hutts were only allied not a part of the Confederacy.  Jabu made the decisions on Tatooine and Jabu did not like the Republic.

“Your Majesty, nobody likes the Republic,” Obi-Wan declared baldly.  “It’s a bureaucratic nightmare ruled by Senators who are mostly hypocrites representing worlds which don’t wholly conform to Republican law.”

Jabu seemed taken aback by Obi-Wan’s speech, all delivered in perfect Huttese.  Anakin shuffled next to him.

“It is however a democratic state which involves over fourteen thousand systems, a large majority of which own hyperspace lanes and trade routes the Hutts utilise,” Obi-Wan continued.  He wished the simple uniform he wore had the space to tuck his hands into the sleeves, but it didn’t so he kept them tucked behind his back.  “We would hate for the taxes to be raised on Hutt ships utilising these lanes due to a failure to respect the health and safety of our citizens on your planet.  I suppose we could just levy such taxes on ships registered to your own name.”

Jabu burbled out a defensive posturing that had Obi-Wan lifting his eyebrow again.

“I’m afraid we can hold you responsible,” Obi-Wan said.  “You just confirmed you are wholly in charge.  Tatooine is under your rule.  Who else should we blame for any harm to our citizens caught up in this tragic affair?”

Jabu huffed.  He threw his drink across the room.  Obi-Wan didn’t even flinch, although Anakin side-stepped to avoid being hit before resuming his position and glaring at the Hutt.

Jabu slammed his tiny hand onto the arm of his throne.  His Huttese was sharp and pointed.

“You wish us to fight in your gladiatorial pit for the freedom of the Republican citizens,” Obi-Wan stated.  “If we survive the fight with the enemy of your choosing, we will be free to take the Republican citizens and leave with your blessing.”  He hummed.  “An interesting proposition.  We will agree on the basis that the fight is not with a sentient being.  If it is with a sentient being than you forfeit the match, and we leave with the citizens.  We will also fight today, although the location on Tatooine may be of your own choosing.”

Jabu agreed with another splutter of drool.

Anakin shifted beside him.

“How about we make it more exciting, Your Majesty?”  Obi-Wan motioned at Anakin.  “My padawan will take on a second opponent and should he be successful, then you will free any of the Tatooine citizens you have enslaved?”

There was an uproar.

Obi-Wan let the room explode in indignant shouts and slurs. 

Jabu eventually got them calmed down and laughed.  He insulted Anakin thoroughly as being a thin piece of string with no slime and agreed.

“Excellent, we shall of course put this in writing to ensure there is no question of the legality of our agreement,” Obi-Wan smiled, pulled out another datapad from his inside pocket and quickly wrote out the agreement.  He handed it to the major domo for Jabu to place his imprint of his hand to formalise their contract.

Jabu grumbled but slapped his palm down on the datapad. 

The major domo delivered it back to Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan ignored the slime as he tucked it back into his uniform jacket. 

“Where shall we do this?” asked Obi-Wan.

He wasn’t surprised when the whole event moved to the arena in the centre of Mos Espa.  Seats began to fill up as word got around the town. 

Obi-Wan and Anakin waited in the centre of the ground calmly.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Master?” Anakin asked.

“It’s the perfect distraction,” Obi-Wan said.  “Everyone else can get to where they’re needed to be since attention will be on us.”

Anakin glanced around.  “I just have a bad feeling about this.”  His gaze lingered on Padmé still chained to Jabu’s floating throne.

“Don’t worry, Ani,” Obi-Wan said cheerfully.  “At least we’re not tied to pillars and without our weapons.”

Anakin stared at him.  “That seems weirdly specific, Obi-Wan.”

“Another life perhaps,” Obi-Wan murmured.  He had a feeling that he was getting closer and closer to the moment where he would have to tell Anakin about the time travel.

Jabu lifted his body from its slump and the crowds quieted in anticipation.

The major domo cleared his throat to translate.  “These foolish envoys fight for the freedom of their fellow Republic citizens and for the freedom of the slaves Jabu has acquired in reinstating the rule of the Hutts over Tatooine.  The choice of opponents will be Jabu’s.  Should they win, they will take their citizens, the freed and leave without penalty.  Should they lose…they will leave if they are alive…”

“That’s cheerful,” Anakin quipped.

“The young tall one will face his opponent first,” the major domo declared, “the elder will not interfere.”

Anakin sighed.

Obi-Wan patted his shoulder.  “May the Force be with you, Anakin.  You have this.”

“Right,” Anakin said.

Obi-Wan stepped aside.

A large-covered box was driven into the arena and opened without fanfare.  A hungry rancor erupted from its metal cage and charged at Anakin.

Anakin straightened and lit his lightsabre.  He pressed his lips together. 

The rancor attacked with a sweep of its large hands, its claws coming close to swiping Anakin’s legs from him.  Anakin leaped upwards and over the rancor.

The crowd ooh-ed at the impressive athleticism. 

The rancor roared in disapproval, spinning around to charge at Anakin once again.  Two flashes of his lightsabre had two of the claws on the ground.  The rancor got lucky on its third charge, hitting Anakin and tossing him across the arena, his lightsabre scuttling in the opposite direction.

Obi-Wan winced as the rancor got hold of his padawan.  

Anakin struggled in the rancor’s grip as it carried him closer to its mouth and –

Anakin called his lightsabre with one hand and a discarded claw with the other.  He Force pushed the claws into the rancor’s eyes, partially blinding it.  It loosened its grip as it roared in pain and –

The lightsabre ignited, Anakin leaped and split the rancor down the middle as he travelled back to the ground, stumbling as the rancor shifted.  He hit the ground hard and rolled away as the rancor dropped dead, its guts spilling from it in a violent shade of purple blood.

Anakin got clumsily to his feet. 

The crowd roared – some in approval, some in disapproval.

Obi-Wan moved to stand beside Anakin and patted him on the back.  “Well done, Anakin.”

“Thank you, Master,” Anakin panted.

Obi-Wan strode up to the royal box.  “We’ll take the master slave controller, if you please.  We have won their freedom after all.”

Jabu and the major domo engaged in a furious spat before a black box was hurled at Obi-Wan.  He caught it with the Force and handed it to Anakin.

“Is this right?” Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin nodded.  He deliberately placed it on the ground and stepped on it crushing it to pieces.  None of the slaves could be controlled via their chips; the explosives within them were rendered inert.

The crowd roared again.

Jabu raised his hand for quiet. 

His major domo cleared his throat to speak again.  “The rancor may be defeated, but both have yet to face their final opponent.”

The gate opened again and another tractor trundled in dragging a very, very large box.

“This could be bad,” Obi-Wan allowed.  There were not many creatures the size of the box, but he couldn’t sense anything and…

Droids spilled out of the box, row after row after row…

Blaster fire filled the arena.

Obi-Wan’s ‘sabre lit and he sprang forward, deflecting the blasts with ease back to the droids, eliminating them. 

Anakin threw himself into the middle of them, slashing blaster arms and heads with abandon.

Obi-Wan Force crushed a battle droid and leaped behind another to take advantage of their shield before he beheaded them.

It was relentless.

Just as they eliminated one wave, another erupted, and another, and…

The stadium around them erupted into chaos. 

The populace rebelled against Jabu and his enforcers with prejudice, ably assisted by the hidden operatives of TASLA and the Order of Ashki.  The Tatooine slaves grabbed whatever was at hand and went after the slavers with bricks and bats; some jumped down to the arena to help with the droids. 

Obi-Wan caught sight of Padmé choking Jabu with her chain.  He thought fondly of how in another life she’d climbed her pillar.  On top of things as always, he mused as he crushed another droid and sent it into the next wave, sending them scuttling. 

:Anakin, Padmé requires some help to get out of her collar:   

:On it, Master:

Obi-Wan jumped over another row of droids and…

Dooku was suddenly just there.

In the middle of the arena, red lightsabre in his hand, dressed in fine black robes.

Obi-Wan deflected another barrage of blaster fire as he faced Darth Tyranus.  He weaved his ‘sabre through the air.  “Count, how lovely to see you here.  Jabu was most determined to make a decision on his own.”

“You took advantage of his foolishness,” Dooku agreed.  “I warned him you would.”

Obi-Wan tilted his head as he positioned his lit sabre in its defensive vertical hold.  Blaster fire was avoiding the bubble Dooku seemed to have created around them.  “Yes, he even provided confirmation in the agreement that any native rebellion arising from the freeing of the slaves could not be blamed upon the Republic.”

Dooku huffed.  “You could join me, Kenobi.  Become my apprentice to the Dark Side.”

“You attacked my Padawan, you manipulated your own to attack me,” Obi-Wan pointed out.  “In what universe do you believe such things attract me to your cause?”

“Qui-Gon remembers much more than he thinks he does,” Dooku baited Obi-Wan mercilessly.  “In another time, Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader.  He struck you down and killed you.”

“As you say, in another time,” Obi-Wan said.

Dooku smiled darkly.  “You may have killed my Master’s Master, but I am better than he.”

“But you’re not the apprentice your Master wants,” Obi-Wan taunted. 

“You would never leave the Jedi,” Dooku said, “he’s foolish to believe otherwise.  Your padawan will join us.  He has already Fallen after all and well, his mother…he will Fall again when he loses her.”

Obi-Wan kept his ‘sabre raised.  “We shall see.”

Dooku struck and Obi-Wan made to block only…

Anakin’s blade moved between them.  His face was grave and drawn.  “I will never join you.”

They moved, battling Dooku as a pair, lightsabres flashing through the air.

Dooku was a master at lightsabre fighting.  He deflected and parried; he attacked and he shoved…

Obi-Wan went flying backwards into the rancor’s body.

Anakin found himself being pushed back blow by blow and –

A flash of red and Anakin’s hand was severed from his arm –

Obi-Wan leaped to block the next blow which would have taken his head.  He attacked Dooku, pulling on the Force to help him, keeping himself centred, letting the power of the Jedi flow through him…

He disarmed Dooku.

Dooku snarled and punched down with the Force sending a spray of sand upwards and – he ran.

Obi-Wan let him go.  He made for Anakin only to find he was already being fussed over by a blaster-wielding Padmé, soft looks and gentle touches between them speaking louder than words.

Out of the dust, Quin appeared and Obi-Wan found himself caught in a tight embrace.  They kissed gently. 

Quin smoothed the copper hair back from Obi-Wan’s face and looked back towards Anakin, his expression grave.

“Quin?” asked Obi-Wan softly.

“They’ve found Shmi,” Quin said.

And Obi-Wan’s heart sank.

o-O-o

TASLA had created a makeshift medical centre where their rehab building used to be. 

Obi-Wan supported Anakin into his mother’s room, Padmé on Anakin’s other side.  They’d wrapped the stump of his arm in bandages and cleaned the worst of the dust off of him.

Anakin limped over to the bed where his mother lay, Padmé helping him into a chair.  Anakin held his mother’s hand and raised it to his cheek.

Anyo glided away from the bed, pausing to place a hand on Obi-Wan’s arm in passing comfort.  “She was tortured badly.  She doesn’t have long.”

Obi-Wan swallowed hard against the emotion which swelled within him.  He nodded his understanding and she left them alone with Shmi.  Padmé moved to stand beside him, dressed in oversize clothes which had been found to cover her.

Shmi opened her eyes and gazed upon the face of her son.  Her presence was a warm pool of Light in the Force.  “Ani.”

“Mom,” Anakin choked out, tears already glistening even as Obi-Wan felt him marshal his defences, trying to be strong for his mother.

Shmi’s eyes ran all over him.  “Your arm?”

“He took it,” Anakin admitted.

“That’s all he took,” Shmi said forcefully.

Anakin shook his head.  “I Fell, I used the Dark when he tore out our bond and…”

“And he could never tear out our bond, my son,” Shmi’s fingers traced over Anakin’s face. 

Obi-Wan felt the tendrils of the Force reach out from her touch to heal the bond between mother and son.

“You Fell, but he will not take you from the Light,” Shmi said passionately.  “Swear it to me, Ani.”

“I swear,” Anakin said.

Shmi’s gaze drifted beyond him.  She beckoned Padmé forward with her free hand.  “You have been a dear friend to my son and I.  You will do well leading TASLA.”

Padmé clutched at Shmi.  “Is there nothing…”

“The Force calls me home,” Shmi said.  Her gaze drifted over Padmé.  “You will look so beautiful on your wedding day.” She cupped Padmé’s cheek.  “You doubt his feelings and his youth, but you know deep down that he loves you.  You’ll make beautiful babies together.”

Padmé blushed.

“Mom!” Anakin protested, his own cheeks flaring red.

“Hush,” Shmi sighed, her gaze moving to her son.  “Your children will be strong in the Force, like their father and your father before you.”  She smiled sadly.  “I will be with him.”

Anakin’s tears spilled over his cheeks.

Shmi’s eyes moved to Obi-Wan.  She motioned him to her.  Obi-Wan slid into the place Padmé had occupied as she moved to comfort Anakin.

“I once entrusted my son to the Jedi,” Shmi said, “today, I entrust him and his family to you.”  She held his hand tightly.  “Dooku showed me of another time you lived.  You loved and love them so fiercely, Obi-Wan; my son, Luke and Leia and Ben…”

“I’ll take care of them,” Obi-Wan promised roughly.

“Your path is hard,” Shmi said, “but know you never walk it alone.”

Obi-Wan nodded.  “We are one with the Force, Shmi of the Clan of the Sky Walk, and the Force is with us.”

Shmi smiled.  She let go of him and wrapped both hands around her son’s.  “I’ll see you again, my son, my Ani.”

Obi-Wan felt the presence of Jedi Ghosts press around him – the familiar feel of Master Whills.  He watched as Shmi took one last breath, her eyes pinned to her son, filling her gaze with him as she passed into the Force, her body disappearing.

Anakin’s heart-rendering sob ripped through the room and he clutched at empty space; curling himself over where his mother had lain.  Padmé’s arms surrounded him, her own face wet with tears.  Obi-Wan bowed his head and let his fall.

o-O-o

“We’re ready to go,” Quin said softly.

Obi-Wan sighed tiredly.  “Anakin’s not back yet.”

“Do you know where he is?” Quin said, wrapping Obi-Wan up in a hug.

Obi-Wan nodded. 

Quin pressed a kiss to his head.  “You did good here.”

“Did I?” Obi-Wan shook his head.  “Shmi is still gone.”

“Dooku was never going to let her go,” Quin said.  “We tried so hard to find her, but…”

“Anyo said she was hidden in the Force,” Obi-Wan soothed him.  “She barely found her and they are blood.”

Quin knocked his head gently into Obi-Wan’s.  “Look at the two of us blaming ourselves.  We’re a mess and Dooku is the real villain here.” He gestured around the space port.  “Tatooine is free again.  The Republic isn’t being held accountable for Jabu’s death nor the failure of the Confederacy to hold the planet against the natives.  It’s a win.”

Even if it felt like a loss.

Obi-Wan caught Quin’s gaze. “I need to tell Anakin.”

“Without wanting to acknowledge the pun,” Quin said, “it is probably time.”

Obi-Wan kissed Quin softly.  “I love you.”

Quin handed Obi-Wan the speeder keys.  “Feel free to leave it somewhere horrid, the slaver I stole it from is dead.”

Obi-Wan managed a small smile and took the keys. 

The old slave quarters had been turned into cheap housing but after the events of the invasion and rebellion they were almost destroyed.

Anakin sat on top of a pile of rubble staring out at the setting two Tatooine suns across the desert which sprawled out in front of them.

Obi-Wan sat down beside him.

For a long moment they simply sat in silence. 

Anakin stirred, always the more impatient between them.  He didn’t look at Obi-Wan.  His gaze on the desert.  “The stories you used to tell the crèche…you talked about Luke and Leia and…and I so wanted to be Luke when I was young.”  He pushed a lock of hair behind his ear.  “Not just because he was a cool Jedi, but because when you talked about him, you talked about him with so much love.  I wanted that and you wouldn’t choose me.”

“You have my love, Ani, you’ve always had it,” Obi-Wan said.  “I didn’t choose you as a padawan initially because I wanted you to have choices, choices you didn’t have before.”

Anakin turned to him and caught his gaze.  “Luke is my son from another time when I was Darth Vader, when I killed you.”

“Arguably I killed you first even though Vader claimed to have killed you not I,” Obi-Wan retorted.  He shook his head.  “There is another timeline, that is true.  I lived it so did Qui-Gon after a fashion.  We made so many mistakes, Anakin.  You, I, the Jedi…those who came before us, those who came after.  Luke made mistakes, so did Leia, Ben and Rey.  Eventually, there were no Sith, but there was also no Jedi.”

“Balance,” Anakin murmured.

“Balance,” Obi-Wan agreed.  “But Qui-Gon wouldn’t accept it.  He used his knowledge as a Force Ghost and time travelled back to our journey to Tatooine from Naboo.  Only he did it badly and damaged his mind.  Another Force Ghost showed me the way to do it and retain myself.”

“You came back to save him,” Anakin realised.

“All of us,” Obi-Wan said.  “What Qui-Gon did was rash and foolish but as Luke pointed out, it provided an opportunity to save us all; Qui-Gon, who had died in our battle with Darth Maul, you, me, all of the Jedi.”

Anakin shifted, leaning into Obi-Wan.  Obi-Wan put his arm around his padawan and tugged him closer.

“The Sith are out there,” Anakin said.  “Dooku, his Master, his apprentice…”

“We’ll defeat them,” Obi-Wan assured him.  “As long as we have each other, we’ll defeat them.”

“I believe you, Master,” Anakin said.  He blew out a breath.  “Of course, who knows when Qui-Gon will show up to try and kill you again.”

Obi-Wan smiled and hugged Anakin close.

“Do you believe Luke and Leia will exist again?” Anakin asked tentatively, fidgeting with his temporary mechanical hand.

Obi-Wan nodded.  “I believe their existence is the will of the Force and you and Padmé are on your way to finding love with each other, are you not?”

Anakin smiled, happiness creeping into his melancholic Force presence.  Suddenly he tensed and went pale.  “Force, I’m going to have twins!”

And Obi-Wan laughed as Anakin huffed and protested.  He let Anakin pull him off the rubble and to the speeder, hurrying him along so they could leave Tatooine behind.

Something tugged at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

The setting suns flooded amber light across the rippling dunes and standing there was the blue flickering Force Ghost of Shmi Skywalker smiling back at him.

fin.