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phoeebsbuffay · 1 year

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Imagine Darth Vader finds out you are alive. He keeps track of what you've been up to in these years he became the Sith Lord. You are led to believe he was long dead... Until something happens.

Warnings: a lot of drama, angst... Contains smut, not recommended for minors.

Warnings 2: alternative universe where we have no Ahsoka Tano and Padmé Amidala. Here, Y/N is a character whose plot mixes them both; unburnt Vader.

Warnings 3: Anakin never killed the younglings in any of my stories even as Vader.

Warnings 4: fluffy endings.

Recommendation:"Broken" (Seether ft. Amy Lee); “Pictures of You” by “The Cure”.

***

Intro

Once again, darkness flows uncontrollably. It gravitates towards its victim, ready to attack its heart by surrounding it and suffocating it as its poison dismisses any sight of light.

From the darkest waters, a man arises. From the flames of Mustafar, the one great Jedi has become the very thing he swore to destroy.

Darth Vader is hungry not only for the power to him denied when he was a general Jedi whose reputation once earned admiration from all, but for independence as well. To be set free of the chains of the misled Order he’d been so loyal to after countless years of losses, he is abandoned by all those he loved.

Except by one person.

One single woman escapes his resentment and anger. This woman is Y/L Y/LN. You. Of average height, y/c hair, soft y/c skin and eyes dark as coal, you and him met right after you were under the guidance of General Skywalker. You were not of an age to be a Padawan anymore, you were eighteen, in fact, about to become a Knight Jedi.

Skywalker back then resisted this idea mostly because he thought he did not need a Padawan whatsoever. But after an initial clash between the two of you, there came something. You started getting along.

He got harder on you, despite being very impressed by your skills. You always awoke the best of him. He’d never seen a Jedi as you: powerful, yes, but centered and altruist. Your patience and sharp wit surprised even Obi-Wan Kenobi. However, it was your recklessness and stubbornness that attracted Skywalker.

As diplomatic as you were, sometimes working under disguise to protect a Senator of Planet Y/C, you had your own issues with authority. Not often you did what others told you not to.

In spite of that, two years later Anakin was proud of you: you successfully became a Knight Jedi. He insisted that it was not too soon until you became a Jedi Master. Yet, it turned out to be a very difficult period of your lives. It was when you and Anakin began to seeing each other with romantic eyes.

That was precisely when everything started going wrong. You two had just gotten secretly married when someone set you a trap. The Council expelled you of the Order without a proper investigation of the case. Anakin could not believe the injustice he saw it was done to you. Though he eventually managed to prove your innocence, clearing you of all accusations, the damage was done. Thus was that you refused to go back to the Order.

Despite these circumstances, you carried on. You had a normal life to live together with your husband until the day Anakin went to a mission to spy the Chancellor only to never go back to your arms. It was when the Order 66 forced you to go separate ways.

To you, Anakin Skywalker was dead. And to him, you as well. Until this day… when Darth Vader meditates and only through the Force he discovers your whereabouts.

“By the Maker”, he chokes when he is led to you. “Y/L, you are alive!”

***

Nowadays.

Your POV

It’s been two years, but your conscience does not cease to torment you. The specter of what could have been comes in the form of sweet nightmares that frequently has awaken you in salty tears.

The day the Order 66 had been carried out you discovered you were pregnant. You wanted to tell Anakin yourself: this was a moment where you both prepared for it. You had found an unofficial new job as a keeper of the peace to the Senator of Naboo, something you’ve chosen to do because Obi-Wan insisted and Anakin promised he needed a few more years before both of you left Coruscant.

That was the plan. But that same day, happiness clouded your judgement. You didn’t realize what was going on until Obi-Wan had sent you a trooper of his trust to inform something wrong happened to Anakin. You had to be prepared for what was to come, he was about to suggest you to go elsewhere.

“What good does it do to dwell in what was done?”, you mumble to yourself as you keep walking towards the market.

But memories remain crystal clear in the back of your mind. When the clone turned suddenly against you, trying to kill you in the process… When the circumstances escalated to a tragedy upon which you lost your dear child. And your husband.

Alone in this world, you now wage your own wars. At first, you are isolated—you don’t want to know about Jedis and Siths anymore, you’ve lost too much for either side. You don’t feel right with Anakin’s gone, you are too broken to live up at any resistance out there against the Empire.

You come to the underworld. There are times you sense someone is watching you. You turn, suspicious, but there is no one there. However, the sensation does not leave you.

You eventually cross the path of rebellious sisters whose ship you helped building. One of them, named Seara, is intrigued by your melancholic, closed behavior.

“We don’t even know your name.”

“Why would you like to know my name? I am just passing by.”

“No attachments, eh? I thought we could be friends.”

You feel as if you ghost yourself when you respond:

“We are not friends.”

Yet, eventually war out there comes for you. The moment you all are captured by a ship of pirates is the one you realize you cannot let Seara and her sister die because you simply have no other use for this world.

But it’s right here that your former Jedi self ignites a spark that would bring to you the attention of a very dangerous pair of yellow eyes.

***

Darth Vader’s POV.

His frustration is fed when he is forced to acknowledge he’d been made a fool. Not only once as a child, or often as a Jedi, but even now as the apprentice to Palpatine. What has changed? An unposed question that holds a very bitter answer.

As he stares into the emptiness ahead of him, Lord Vader begins to contemplate instead how to get to you. Once the destruction of the Order meant to get his revenge for all the harm that has been done to you, to amend their wrongs and their injustices. However, this was not the sole point of his anger, of how he pursuit darkness as a solution for his problems.

By doubling his power, Lord Vader thought of you and you alone. He wanted to be the one to give you the life you deserved, comfortable and filled with proper luxuries—even though neither of you were excessively materialists. Nonetheless, what is this now but an illusion that is dissipating right before his eyes?

Seeing your suffering—the one that resulted from his doings—does not appease his angst. It only further bleeds his heart with guilt, breaking his spirit more than he cares to admit.

The only way now is to get his vengeance done. Vader realizes it has never been fully complete. Palpatine must die. A reasonable and yet bittersweet thought. Only then, he is coming for you, his precious love. The Jedi who left, the Jedi who never fell. His angel who remained pure before his eyes.

However, he must see you one more time. The temptation is too great to ignore.

What are you doing, Y/N? If only you knew…

It takes some time before he is led to a scene in which Vader promptly recognizes it as being part of the planet Y/C. You are under heavy rain, a grey hood omitting your features. You stare into the ocean, ignoring the presence of storm troopers who are still under the obeisance of the Order 66.

Vader fears for you. He instantly reconnects with you, trying to send some warnings about it. He sees you are startled by how tense your shoulders are. But you take his silent warning and when you turn, you are surrounded by five clones.

Vader feels an angst washing over his body, flowing over his hands, closing his fists as he tries to hold back a scream. In this very moment, though, the moment is gone. He cannot know what happens to you and to worse the current situation, Palpatine is looking for his pupile.

“I sense a weakness in you, Lord Vader”, his calm voice gives the other nerves. “What am I detecting here?”

“There is nothing to detect, my lord.” Vader goes in one knee, ignoring the look Palpatine casts him.

“I should better hope that you are not cultivating any animosity towards me, Lord Vader, unless death is what you aim to taste.”

There is little need for the demonstrations of anger for almost promptly Darth Vader submits to his Master.

For now, though.

For now.

***

Your POV.

As you embark into this strange adventure with the rebellious sisters, trouble is inevitable. Soon, Seara finds out who you truly are.

“A Jedi!”, she exclaims, perplexed.

“You are a Jedi”, her older sister echoes the observation.

You are too impatient dealing with your enemies to explain your current state.

“Just go to the other side. Don’t be reckless, Seara!”, when seeing you are ignored and the other one tries to help, you let a cry out: “No! GET OUT OF HERE!”

You levitate them and throw them at the ship that awaits your leave. It’s the one you find at your disposal—or some sort of it, anyway.

“Just go!”

You turn, trying not to bear in mind the day where remaining troops found you and when they were about to blaster against you, you swear you could hear Anakin’s husky voice warning you about their presence.

How?

Would you dare to nurture hope? Would you dare to give ears to the truth that has been resounding in your heart at the silent sound of drums? Would you?

Oh for fuck’s sake. You know there is nothing left for me, Y/N…

You dismiss this new hope, rather concentrating in the days Anakin was your Master and when he got hard on you.

“Remember the new blows I taught you, Y/N”, he cried out to you. “Rise and resist!”

You would drop every single time. At every shot, you thought you’d get beaten. But you’d prove him wrong. You were not weak.

“Go on, lass!”

And eventually you did. You not only brought a small smile to his lips, but you surprised Obi-Wan Kenobi. You knocked every opponent down, you surpassed almost every one in your trainings

As you look at the countless enemies that stand right before you, a thought occurs you.

Why should I fear them?

What happens next comes in slow motion. Your cape embraces the cold wind that comes from outside. You can hear the protests of the sisters you are now protecting, thanks to the powers you’ve doubled recently, when you managed to levitate the heavy ship and send it away.

Your eyes never leave your enemies. You remember seeing every moment of your life running right before your eyes. Specially where Anakin is concerned.

‘Remembering you standing quiet in the rain, as I ran to your heart to be near. And we kissed as the sky fell in…’

His caressing, his eyes staring down into yours, the sweet promises that came out of his mouth, the taste of his tongue in a synchronized rhythm with yours… How he held you near, how you heard his heart beating.

Or how he warmed your body in tempest nights, when he soothed your fears concerning thunders, when he peppered your skin with soft kisses.

“I love you”, you often said when he laid next to your side, staring into those blue eyes with the same intensity that hid behind yours. “There is nothing in the world that I ever want more than to be with you.”

“You are the stars of my universe, Y/N”, he whispered back, finding peace in your arms. “I love you. I will always gravitate to you, I will always find you.”

As memory turns into dust and salty tears are swallowed, stuck in your throat, you are brought back to nowadays. The troops step aside and an Inquisitor comes, laughing manically, posing himself a threat with a woman by his side.

“We know who you are”, you are told, hands resting in your sabers. “Almost a Senator, almost a Jedi. It’s what you are. An almost who is now about to become nothing.”

“Yet you treat me like a Jedi”, you answer softly, disdain rolling in your tongue, another inheritance of your husband. “Should I presume you fear me enough to attempt to disqualify me? I am not forgetting the wrongs you’ve done to the one I love.”

Another laughter.

“Did no one tell you that vengeance and anger are not the Jedi way?”

You finally hold your sabers in your hands, eyes narrowed at your opponents.

And a sly smirk twitches in the corner of your lips when you respond them:

“Well, I am no Jedi, you sons of a bitch.”

Thus it is the battle finally begins.

***

Darth Vader’s POV.

His eyes stare down into the lifeless corpse of Palpatine. Despise marks Anakin’s yellow eyes as he leaves it there, to public display under the shocked stare of thousands of troops and those who served the Empire loyally.

They all follow their Sith Lord with an astonished gaze stamped in their faces. What are they supposed to do now? A silent, unspoken question that is to meet, however, an even terrible end. Their reward for their evil services is dying under the forces not of Vader, who mysteriously escapes, but those of rebels who sought an opportunity and promptly took it.

Disguised under this vine hood, Vader’s mind and heart are far from the fall of the Empire he helped to build. As he concentrates, he comes to find you in a very violent battle.

Though he is proud of how you fight—(I taught you well, Y/nickname)—he is concerned in the same measure. How on earth will you alone defeat two of the most dangerous inquisitors? Not that he underestimates you, but as Vader is shown the fire spreading around the place you are fighting your war, his concern only grows.

“Fuck, Y/N. Fuck, don’t fight them off! Run away!” He tries to yell at you through the Force.

Though a disturbance is felt, all he can see is the tears that blurry your y/c eyes. Nonetheless, you don’t quake in fear. You are fierce, proud, every inch a Jedi trained and shaped to be one by your Master—the same one you married to.

But you resist. You scream, you give the best of yourself, many of the clones drop dead. But the Inquisitors are harder than you expected them to be.

Eventually though, exhaustion comes at you. Unfortunately, it comes in the wrong time. Right before Vader’s eyes, an explosion occurs.

“Y/N!”

His yells could easily echo throughout the dark silence of a nearly phantasmagoric galaxy as he pilots away to wherever you are. For he knows he will find you.

As he does.

***

Your POV.

You believe you are dead. After a long time spent fighting for others’s wars, you are free. You released yourself after being for so long chained to people pleasing here and there, always tirelessly fighting to do the right. Despite the efforts, all you have received from others—except from your husband—was rudeness and unthankfulness.

However, where is peace? Why is there pain in your body, why does it hurt to breathe? You think you hear someone calling your name.

“Kill me”, you hear yourself gasp. “Please. Put an end to this misery.”

You are surprisingly being held into somebody’s arms. The smell of the scent is familiar to you. No. It cannot be.

“Y/N, my darling… I am here.”

The voice is so familiar that you need not much to acknowledge it. You start crying.

“I must be dead then so we are reunited. Oh, Anakin! I was not waiting for you. I’m so sorry I failed you”, you try to speak amidst the pain that inflicts you.

He is so distressed that you cannot tell what really is going on. You cling into him, sensing somehow in your heart there is a different Anakin that is rocking you in his arms.

But he is still my Anakin, nevertheless. My Anakin.

This is the last thought you have before diving into unconsciousness.

***

Darth Vader’s POV.

He watches as you recover. Both of you are now found in a far away galaxy, somewhere where a new beginning is possible. You wake up in a comfortable bed, dressing a nightgown. A droid looks after you, though Anakin ensures not to leave your side.

“You don’t need to apologize or justify the path you’ve taken”, you tell him for the hundredth time as he apologizes to you. The once proud Jedi and even prouder Sith Lord is humbled before the woman he loves.

Vader is baffled by how well you took the new informations. For fear of losing you, he might’ve omitted some details, though he knows you know what he did not tell you.

But you stay. You cling into his arms, feeling safe. Vader watches you mesmerized.

“How can you…?” He cannot even ask.

You raise your eyes to meet his. Darth Vader is pleased to see some color is now painting your cheeks. You’ve been paled and your recovery took some months. Nonetheless, he’d been there for you: consoling your nightmares, tending your wounds and those unseen scars that left you a deep mark.

“There is good in you, Ani. I know there is”, you stroke his cheek, leaning to peck his lips. Your eyes instantly blurry at the proximity. “I still cannot believe you are here.”

“I’m here, darling. I will not leave you ever again. I… I didn’t know…” He chokes a sob, trying to look strong for you.

“Shhh, it’s fine. It’s all right. Come here.” You pull him against your arms and there he stays, his face buried in your neck. “We will get through this together, it’s what you always told me. I love you, Ani.”

His fears are easily soothed by you. The proximity of your bodies helps remembering how close you used to be—in every possible meaning—before the bloody war and the Emperor meddled and ruined your lives.

Yet, as Lord Vader comes to find out, even in darkness it is possible to let there be light. Little by little, he comes to terms with who he is—something you’ve always done, in fact. When now looking into your face, he is amazed by it.

You never expected him to change his nature, you did not yell at him, calling him names for what he’d done. All you two did was talk about what was done and why it was done, never judging the other for it.

“I love you, angel”, he says rather possessively, holding you close.

Playing with your hair and gently resting his hand on your shoulder, you turn at him when sensing the subtle change of his voice. You side smirk at him, feeling the same feeling.

As you rest your hand in his chest, you peck his lips, bitting his bottom lip.

“I love you too, Ani. I’ve missed you”, your voice comes in a whisper as you move your free hand to dive in his curls.

There is only a brief instant of silence hanging in between you. No more pain, no more nightmares at long last. It’s just you two. No more Jedis or Siths, but a husband with his wife.

It wakes the spark that for a very long time had been drowned in both of you. And he is surprised when your hand slips from his chest to his pants.

“Y/N”, he gasps softly. “What… Fuck.”

You smirk against his lips, enjoying the feeling of having his manhood getting hard under your delicate fingers, moving it up and down—slowly at first before increasing the rhythm just the way he enjoys it.

“I missed this”, you moan softly as he kisses you. “I missed us.”

And just like that, the dark beast comes out again. He kisses your neck, leaving all the gentleness behind when Anakin, formerly Lord Vader, bites it, hungry for your touch.

“Oh”, and you enjoy it, not only the feeling you have upon his manhood, but how he is completely dominating in bed.

“My sweet heart”, he growls under his breath as he starts to push your nightgown over your head, moving his body over yours. “Fuck. I…. Shit. No, no. It’s not about me tonight. Let me reward you for your good will towards me darling. Let me make you see stars.”

A shiver runs in your body the moment he says it, pinning your hands above your head all the whilst you feel him so damn close to your feminine parts, which almost makes you whimper.

Specially when he removes his shirt.

“Fuck”, you curse, feeling wet in between your legs.

Anakin smirks down at you before your cursing. He gently parts your legs, teasing you as he first removes your panties before moving his hands to your waist, arms and gently cupping your cheeks.

“Look what I made you into”, he chuckles. “Corrupting you, aren’t I?”

His thumb plays with your full lips and you take the opportunity to bite it and lick it as well. Anakin groans, hardening in the process.

“Oh by the Maker.”

“Yes?” You feign innocence when he looks at you. “Do you remember when you taught me so many ways to please my Master?”

His hands slip to your throat, wrapping them around it, but never doing anything that goes beyond the limits both of you once settled. His eyes stare down your nipples: he loves watching them getting hard under his touch. He in fact loves how easily you react to him.

“How naughty of you, Y/N”, he leans his body forward as he starts to touch your chest, hands playing with your breasts. “Have you been longing for me, wife?”

Anakin smirks pleased when seeing you blush.

“Y-Yes”, you moan in desperation, overall when he uses one of his hands to tease your womanhood. “Oh my… Anakin!”

As you interlock gazes, you feel as if you’d been brought back to heaven and the Lord Vader you know is the dark angel that’s made it reach to you.

***

Your POV.

You have missed riding him. Oh yes, you have. Every naughtiness there has been in you comes back with no shame. Anakin can tell the same as you move your hips slowly, taking his cock rightly so, as if he needs to remember you own him. As he owns you. As each owns the other.

“Oh Maker”, you throw your head back as his touch in your womanhood, as every grasp against your body sets your soul alight. “Oh my… You electrify me, love!”

“I’ve never been so alive as when I’m with you”, you lean downwards again to kiss his lips hungrily, famine for him, for his soul and flesh.

Anakin now flips positions and he is dominating you once more, leaving tons of bruises in your body, subjugating you to his will. His moves are harder now, matching your screams.

“Shit”, he curses when sensing his climax.

“Give me your seed”, you beg him, which makes him smirk.

Because for some reason he knows and so do you. That this night is not any night. And just like that he complies to your wishes.

Bathed in salt, your bodies are too tangled in each other to make any distinction. Anakin nuzzles against your neck, kissing you softly as he locks his hand against yours.

You rest against his chest, clinging onto him, never again experiencing this kind of bliss.

“Thank you, love”, you capture his whisper just as you start to fall asleep.

You turn your head to meet his eyes. One is painted with the old shade of blue so familiar to you, whilst the other remains yellow.

“What for, sweetheart?”, you ask him.

As he puts a loose lock behind your ear, you can tell he is thrilled.

“For this. For your forgiveness and your love. For…”

“Shh”, you interrupt him. Turning on your elbows, you smile at him as you wipe away his tears. “I will always love you, Anakin Skywalker. And you will be the father of my children. I’ve always known this. Always. We are a family, remember?”

“Yes”, he whispers softly. “Yes we are.”

That night the two of you fall asleep under the certainty something better awaits in a near future…

***

Epilogue.

Ten years later.

“Daaaaad! Luke got your… Oh, you didn’t tell me we had visitors”, Leia blushes. “Hello there, grandpa Ben!”

Anakin and you have been discussing your new steps as Senator of Coruscant when your daughter steps abruptly in the living room.

“I am too old to remind you it’s uncle Ben”, Obi-Wan chuckles, shaking his head.

“I can see your grey hair though, Master”, you joke back.

“Besides”, Anakin adds cheerfully, “didn’t I tell you that you were the closest thing to a father? But you have to wait for me because it apparently Luke has been up to another mischief.”

You sigh heavily as you pour some tea and surrender to your daughter’s pleas about eating chocolate cookie.

In the meantime, though, Anakin’s eyes go wide when he sees Luke took his younger brother, Ben, to a trip without his knowledge. He would have laughed if he didn’t know how fast Luke likes to pilot.

Y/N often says he got it after me…

Swallowing a laughter, Anakin scowls:

“LUKE AND BEN SKYWALKER! Did you go pilot without asking my permission again?”

The two boys exchange guilty glances. Anakin would be delighted to how cute they are had he not been concerned about parenting—or you’d scold him for that, accused of being too permissive with your sons.

“Leia is such a gossiper!”, Ben complains.

“Don’t say that about your sister. Come now, inside. Tell your mother what you did.”

“But dad!”, Luke pouts. “Why?"

"You know very well why, Luke Skywalker."

As he steps inside and finds Leia following you everywhere you go--and you are pregnant again, so Leia is always talking about having a sister because it's unfair how Luke has a brother to make him company.

"I see the boys get something from their father", Obi-Wan remarks in between chuckles.

You join him in laughters.

"Oh you have no idea how much!"

"But I got after my mother!", Leia protests proudly so.

"Of course you do", says Obi-Wan, watching as you beam and kiss her head. "Well time rushes. I hope to see you both on Monday. There are lots to be done! And kids, behave!"

You lean into Anakin's embrace as you two watch the children saying goodbye from their "grandpa" Ben. It's only then you chuckle and say:

"You think I wouldnt notice that you and your brother were up to no good again, Luke Skywalker? So much like your father."

"And it's time to homework now if I aint mistaken", says Anakin, unable to hold back his laughters before their complaints. "Go on. No candy before it's all done. Love, you can do what you have to do. I'm looking after them tonignt."

You beam as you kiss him in his lips, earning some "eeeew" from the children. But this family is everything you wanted. Everything you and Anakin deserved. And this is only growing...

#star wars imagine #star wars #imagine star wars #anakin skywalker #darth vader #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #darth vader smut #darth vader x you #darth vader x y/n #darth vader x female reader #alternative universs #luke and leia

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thegreatwicked · 2 months

Text

Unbreakable Bonds: Chapter Eleven

Hello friends! This chapter is long overdue but to be honest this story was in a tricky spot and yet again, I wanted to make sure this chapter was given the attention it deserved! I know the story is a bit sad right now but I promise things are looking up for these crazy kids! Thanks for your continued support and readership!

Unbreakable Bonds

A novella in the ‘How it Should Have Ended’ Universe.

TheGreatWicked

Summary: In a galaxy where Anakin Skywalker successfully resisted the pull of darkness, fulfilling his destiny as the Chosen One to bring balance to the Force, the Jedi Temple is abuzz with discussions about the traditionally forbidden nature of attachments. As Anakin assumes the role of a Jedi Master, his decision to ensure Palpatine's arrest rather than execution sets the tone for a new era.

On the way to an impromptu council meeting, where Anakin now holds a seat as a respected master, Obi-Wan Kenobi experiences an unusual sensation. A mysterious connection tugs at him when he encounters a young boy patiently waiting outside the council chambers. Unbeknownst to Obi-Wan, the spotlight is about to shift from Anakin to himself.

As the secrets of Obi-Wan's past unravel, the Jedi Council finds itself thrust into action much sooner than anticipated. The delicate balance of the Force, once maintained by Anakin's choices, now hinges on the unforeseen revelations from Obi-Wan's history. The galaxy is on the brink of change, and the consequences of long-held secrets may reshape the destiny of the Jedi and the Force itself.

Pairing: Obi-wan/OFC (Cressida Vox)

Rating: Explicit, depictions of violence and sexual encounters between consenting adults.

Chapter Eleven

Something was different. As the remnants of sleep faded further she became acutely aware of the plush cocoon of blankets swaddled around her. The fabric's gentle touch caressed her skin, in a comforting embrace that lulled her deeper into tranquility.

Safe.

That was how she felt when the first rays of sunlight streamed through the window, casting a golden strip across Cressida's closed eyes, making sleeping in later an impossibility. And whereas she used to greet the day with a minor grumble and a desire to send her timepiece flying into the wall, she found it was oddly silent. In fact, she wasn’t tired, true she was comfortable and cozy, and getting up wasn’t something she wanted to do but she didn’t crave more sleep like she usually did.

She rolled over, into the sunlight which was now spilling across her entire face, a sleepy smile playing on her lips as she stretched out her limbs, savoring the sensation of being well-rested for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Then confusion took hold.

This morning, there was no chill seeping through the hard ground beneath her; instead, she found herself nestled snugly within her bed, wrapped in blankets that enveloped her with a tenderness akin to a lover's embrace.

It struck her as profoundly odd, to find such comfort in the soft give of a mattress, after a decade of sleeping on solid ground. The subtle plushness of a mattress, even one as firm as the Jedi Temple provided, made it impossible for her to find proper rest. It felt too soft, too unfamiliar, leaving her strangely unsettled by the comfort it offered.

There were far stranger things than waking up in a bed and being well rested, but it was still downright strange for Cressida, given her years of accustomed slumber on the hard ground. Inherently she wanted to temper her skepticism with optimism and gratuity as for the first time in a long time her sleep was uninterrupted by the specter of nightmares, she was well-rested and for once felt completely ready to greet the day, but she would still have her cup of caf, of course.

Had she maybe crawled into the bed in her sleep? It seemed unlikely, though not improbable, that maybe she was finally growing accustomed to being back at the temple and finally feeling safe enough to let her guard down. She rolled away from the sunlight to look at the timepiece, curious as to just how long she could stay in this comfortable loaf of blankets, but her eyes widened in shock at the sight before her– she wasn't alone.

There, lying peacefully beside her, was none other than Obi-Wan Kenobi.

His usually tidy hair was mussed from the pillow's embrace, the morning light casting a more ginger hue over the sandy strands. In sleep, the lines of strain that often furrowed his brow were smoothed away, revealing an unguarded handsomeness, completely free from the burdens of stress and responsibility that weighed heavily on him while awake.

With no one to catch her staring, she allowed herself to stare a little longer at the sleeping Jedi Master, the way his bare chest rose and fell with each steady breath; a picture of pure tranquility. He was close enough to touch and every bit as beautiful to look at in sleep as he was when he was awake. She nearly reached out to touch him. Maybe just push his hair out of his eyes, as it was getting a bit longer, he’d probably be cutting it soon. Shame, the longer length of hair looked good on him.

Her gaze lingered on his long, thick eyelashes – a feature envied by many, not just her, but one she was grateful their son, Solan, had inherited. As an infant, it had been difficult to tell who Solan favored, as she had no idea what she looked like as a child. But as he grew older, it became clear that he was taking after his father and the thought made her smile. If her son continued to resemble his father he’d become a very handsome young man, no doubt following in his father’s footsteps of leaving broken hearts across the galaxy.

Her smile faded when she was a breath away from stroking the warmth of his cheek, it felt so real.

The momentary warmth that bloomed within her at the sight, withered as quickly as it came and her fingers recoiled. Sorrow seeped into the hollow space it left behind, as she realized that this was nothing more than a dream.

She didn’t crawl into her own bed last night any more than Obi-Wan had, and he wasn’t really there sleeping beside her.

As she lay on the too-soft mattress, misery swelled inside her, and she turned away, seeking refuge from her heartache. Even in sleep, she couldn't escape it. With a resigned sigh, she braced herself for the inevitable awakening. The bed would be empty and cold, and she would find herself stiff and a bit sore, just as she had been for the last ten years, still exhausted and still on the floor.

And even worse than the physical discomfort, she would return to the strained coexistence she shared with the father of her son. Hating every moment of it. Hating herself.

Despair hung heavy around her, like a palpable shroud that rippled through the air, touching everything in its path. Reaching beyond, until Obi-Wan's arm found its way around her waist, drawing her back against the solid plane of his chest. His breath danced warmly on her skin, as he gently nuzzled into the back of her neck, stirring strands of her auburn hair with each exhale.

"Good morning, darling,"

She remained still and silent, his voice and the affection in it only making her experience more painful. She stayed stiff in his arms, tightly squeezing her eyes shut to prevent any tears from escaping.

"Are you planning to avoid me here too?" he asked softly when she remained silent.

Her silence stretched for a moment before she replied, "Avoidance implies intention, Obi-Wan. One can’t avoid what's not real."

He chuckled softly, the sound melodious and comforting. "You're the only Jedi I know who wouldn't take advantage of a pleasant dream, my dear." he teased, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Such a wet blanket, you are."

She breathed deeply, committing his scent, and his warmth, to memory.

Obi-Wan's voice, sleep-roughened but playful, teased her. "Are you truly so entrenched with your own sorrow that you won’t allow yourself to enjoy this while you can?"

“This is a dream,”

“Then there’s no harm in a little bit of indulgence, is there?” His fingers danced a lighthearted path up her arm, it was so soft it almost tickled and Cressida hated being tickled. But she couldn’t bring herself to move. "Is it such a bad dream, this one? Worse than the ones where you wake up screaming?"

“No,” She replied quietly, her voice sounding so fragile.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“You’ve never called me ‘darling’ before.”

“Is that it?” He chuckled again, “Well, perhaps that’s true, but you want me to.” His hand stroked the length of her arm, a tender touch that felt profoundly real. “After all, this is your dream, not mine, darling.” His lips gently brushed against her skin, sending tingles down her spine. "You know, I believe I've figured out why you've been sleeping poorly," he said after a momentary pause. "You're resting where you shouldn't be. I'm in my bed, and you're on the floor. One of us is undoubtedly in the wrong place."

"Always the clever one," she remarked, unable to keep the scoff out of her voice before finally turning her head to look at him, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth despite herself.

When she pinched his arm, he raised an eyebrow questioningly as if wondering why she would do that.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, my dear, but I believe you’re supposed to pinch yourself if you wish to wake up.” He suggested with a grin, gently pinching her arm in return, which she, of course, didn’t feel. “Seems to me like you don't really want to leave this place."

It was true, painfully so.

“I’m not sure what’s worse, the reality that’s waiting for me when I wake up or this,” Her voice was soft as her fingers lightly grazed against his, while he continued to gently stroke her arm.

"Reality can be shaped by will, my love," he countered, pressing another more firm kiss to her neck. "If you truly desire this, all you need to do is pursue it," he responded, his grip around her a little more secure, his voice tender and affectionate, it was lovely but it wasn’t right.

“You make it sound so simple,”

Her words seemed to roll off him like water off a pelikki’s back, his expression remaining unphased. In fact, he wore a sly smirk and his hand reached up to gently caress her cheek, repositioning her in his embrace so that she faced him directly. His eyes were still heavy with sleep but still held an inviting warmth and tenderness towards her.

“And you think in such two-dimensional terms,”

He gently tilted her chin upwards, his warm hand cradling her jaw as he drew her closer. His lips met hers in a deep, all-consuming kiss. With a teasing flick of his tongue, he deepened the kiss and her heart began to race in her chest. Every nerve electrified by his touch, so close to the real thing.

"Imagine," he murmured softly, releasing her mouth from his. "This is how we wake up every day, safely wrapped in each other's arms." He paused, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Though preferably with fewer clothes." She smirked softly, feeling the vibrations of his words against her skin. For a man who was all propriety and rules and discipline, it was easy to forget that he had something of a naughty sense of humor.

"No blasted timepieces to rouse us from sleep, only the sunlight of noon or Solan telling us he's hungry for waffles. The three of us exploring the galaxy together as a family, our attachments making us stronger, not weaker. Training our son to be the Jedi he's meant to be, as the Force deems, no pesky High Council to shake their heads disapprovingly at us, or tell us what we’re feeling is wrong or dangerous."

Her smirk turned to a smile, her heart swelling at the thought. Obi-Wan had never boasted any particularly artistic abilities, but the portrait he was creating was undoubtedly breathtaking.

"And our nights..." he trailed off, tilting his head down to nuzzle his nose against hers. "Our nights are filled with staying up late, entwined in passionate love-making until we can no longer keep our eyes open, blissfully drained of all energy. And yet, every day it starts all over again."

She let her fingers intertwine with his, feeling the rough calluses on his palm and fingers born of years of lightsaber use. She observed him with fascination wishing all her dreams could be as peaceful as this moment. A somber smile formed on her lips.

“Growing stronger, as a family,” His hand cradling her hip, his lips leaving a trail of fire along her jaw and up to her ear. “Perhaps, we might even add to it,” She turned her head sharply, expecting to see a playful smirk but finding only honest sincerity in his gaze.

"Can you see it?" Obi-Wan whispered between gentle kisses.

She couldn't believe what she was hearing and she did a double take. Was he actually serious? He couldn’t be. She felt foolish even considering the thoughts as being his in the first place, knowing that this was all just a dream concocted by her own mind to ease her loneliness. But as Obi-wan had suggested; what was the harm in a little dream-like indulgence?

"It does sound nice,"

"Nice? Darling, it could be ours," His voice was dripping with longing and desire as he spoke, his hand moving to gently caress her stomach. His thumb traced over faint lines that were barely visible that she often covered up, she instinctively reached to cover the perceived vulnerability, but Obi-Wan’s hands encased her own in a firm grasp.

“Now, now, none of that.” His possessive tone sent shivers down her spine as his lips grazed her knuckles. "I missed so much of Solan's life.” His voice was filled with remorse and longing. “I never got to see your body swell with my child, never held him as a newborn, heard his first words, or watched him take his first steps. But it can be different this time. And Solan wants brothers and sisters, you know."

“How could you possibly know that?" she asked, curiosity piqued.

Obi-Wan’s smile widened.

"I've seen the way he looks at other younglings, and he told me so himself," he confessed. "And I promise you, this time, I'll be by your side for every single one of them, supporting you and loving you as a true partner should."

She pulled back slightly, her eyes blinking in surprise. Did she hear him correctly?

"Every single one?" She repeated, trying to control the warmth spreading through her chest. She looked down, pretending not to notice the blush creeping up her cheeks. "Just how many children are you expecting in this imagined scenario?"

"As many as the Force sees fit," he answered mischievously, his playful side finally breaking through and wrapping around her like the blankets they lay under.

Her mind began spinning with visions of a life entwined with Obi-Wan and their children. Children. Plural. She could see them under the golden hue of the setting sun, filled with laughter and unrestrained love. Solan, with eyes sparkling with pride, demonstrated his growing mastery of the Force, while his younger siblings gazed up at him in wonder.

Obi-Wan's presence and determination slowly chipped away at the walls she had built around herself. He spoke of a future where they could share the weight of their burdens and she could finally let go of the loneliness she had carried for so long. He promised to care for her deeply with every fiber of his being.

Yet, one last shred of resistance remained.

"It’s not that simple, I need to protect you," She whispered, her voice barely audible, her eyes downcast to avoid his gaze.

"Protect me from what, darling?"

"From me," she replied, her voice barely audible.

He laughed, a sound not mocking but filled with gentle understanding, and then his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that spoke volumes, asserting that his attachment to her was irrevocable.

"Obi-Wan," she breathed, her voice cracking with emotion. "I-"

She tried to continue, to tell him how perfectly serious she was being and maybe scold him, but her words were cut off by more passionate kisses from him. Each one deeper than the last, and to further prove his point and silence any protest, he rolled them over, pinning her beneath him. Her words were muffled against his lips.

The words rolled off his tongue in a low, rumbling murmur as he reluctantly pulled their lips apart.

It was clear he was hesitant to end the kiss.

"My dear, it is far too late for that realization. My heart has been hopelessly entwined with yours since the first moment I saw your face in the council chamber. And when I learned of our son, you became my fate." His warm breath mingled with hers as he spoke, the crackle of electricity still pulsing between them.

She had been about to bring up the Jedi Order's strict stance on attachments, but before she could even form the words, he stopped her with another soul-scorching kiss. The heat of his touch branded her skin and the power of their connection seemed to surge through them both.

"The Force is not the Jedi Order; it has no owner,” he said solemnly, his hand gently caressing her cheek. “It is not bound by any rules. It has existed since time immemorial and will continue to exist long after the Jedi are dust and less than memories." He paused, a seriousness settling over him.

The idea of leaving the Order was both thrilling and terrifying to her, causing her breath to catch in her throat.

"Never again will you walk alone," he vowed. "No more running. I'll protect you, always."

It seemed such a big thing, too big a decision to let him make and she shook her head in uncertainty.

“Cress,” he whispered gently with a soft touch, brushing away a strand of hair from her face as he stroked her cheek. “I see how tired you are, and I know you've carried far too much alone for too long.” Her eyes welled up with tears, unable to resist the truth in his words and she tried to look away but she couldn’t.

“I know about the nightmares and the sickness, and I know why they plague you. It's time for you to let someone take care of you."

She blinked back a tear. "And that someone is you?"

"Absolutely," Obi-Wan declared with unwavering conviction. "It's my duty to take care of you now, and I swear I'll protect you and treat you like my queen if you'll only let me."

She hesitated, torn between the dreamlike world he painted and the reality they lived in.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew this was insane. But in this moment, as his arms enveloped her and she felt the comforting warmth of his body, the idea of a life together consumed her. And though it was going to hurt later, she allowed herself to indulge in the dream, savoring every second of it.

What was the harm in enjoying a dream, if only a little bit?

The wounds from her time in the healing chambers may have healed physically, but nothing could ease the ache in her heart like these stolen moments with him. His lips were so close to hers that she could feel their gentle warmth, and all she had to do was lean in to make contact. So she did.

Without hesitation, she met his lips with her own, losing herself in his kisses that grew more passionate by the second

"Let's pretend," he whispered breathlessly between kisses, his touch tracing a delicate path along her collarbone. "Just for now... let's pretend that this is ours," his voice thick and husky with emotion.

“That nothing exists outside this room, it’s been far too long since I’ve touched you, darling,”

Drawing her closer, he captured her lips in another kiss, and as their mouths melded together, all thoughts of the outside world faded away and she gave in, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in each other's arms.

Her longing for him, built up over countless nights of loneliness, surged within her and drowned out any remaining doubts. With an urgency she couldn't contain, she pulled him closer, desperate to fill the void that had grown insatiable in the ten years since she last felt his touch.

"See?" Obi-Wan murmured, his breath mingling with hers as their kisses grew more frantic and hurried. "We deserve this, Cressida. A moment of peace amidst the chaos we've faced."

Cressida nodded silently in agreement. His voice was a soothing balm to her, and she could listen to him speak for hours, but right now she had other plans for his quick-witted mouth.

"Just until my timepiece wakes me." She breathed against his lips before kissing him again, teasingly licking at his mouth.

"That's all I ask, darling," Obi-Wan replied, his smile evident in his voice.

Her hands traveled up his chest and tangled in his tousled hair, gently pulling at the locks she remembered he enjoyed, he’d positively melted at the sensation. She felt his approval reverberate through his body in a low moan, the hum of satisfaction warming her from the inside out.

Memories of the last time she had felt him unravel at her touch surged forward, emboldening her to take more from this dream-like moment and fully indulge in its pleasures, savoring each sensation as if it were a rare delicacy.

"Was that so difficult?" he teased with a playful smirk. The warmth of his hand cradling her jaw sent shivers down her spine as his lips left hers and planted kisses along her neck.

Every touch sent a flurry of sparks through her body, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment and hungry kiss.

But then something changed.

The hand that had been caressing her jaw gently, suddenly clamped down on her neck with a vicious hold, cutting off her oxygen supply. A blackness crept over him like a shroud, shadowy tendrils wrapped around him obscuring his handsome face until he became an unrecognizable mass of darkness and malice. Her breathing became labored, each gasp a desperate struggle for air. Panic surged through her body as she gasped for air, each breath a frantic struggle against the tightening grip.

She was unable to take a breath, let alone speak. Her words trapped in her throat, and all that came out was a garbled response.

She clawed at his hand, trying to pry it away, but he only squeezed harder, sending sharp waves of pain through her throat. No longer recognizable, he was consumed by the darkness, a vessel for its insidious influence. Her heart clenched with impending doom, a crushing weight bearing down on her as she fought for every precious breath and she grew weaker.

Just as suddenly as it had come, the pressure on her neck vanished and she was left gasping and choking in the darkness. Clutching her neck and coughing, her head whipped around searching for him, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Obi-Wan?" Her raspy voice echoed into the endless void, but there was no response.

The warmth of the bed was replaced with a chilling emptiness, and the sunlight that once filled the room had faded to a distant memory. She was alone and vulnerable in this pitch-black world. Where had he gone? What had happened?

But there were no answers—only a suffocating darkness that threatened to consume her completely.

The eerie emptiness swallowed the warmth of the dream, leaving Cressida adrift in an endless void.

"Obi-Wan!" Her voice quavered, reaching out into the abyss for the man who had been by her side moments before. She fought against the panic in her heart. That wasn’t her Obi-Wan, it was something else. He was here somewhere, she had to find him.

A distorted echo of his voice responded, but she couldn’t understand his words, only the fear in his voice. The chilling sound sent shivers down her spine, her skin prickling with goosebumps. Desperate to find him, she stumbled through the nightmare landscape until she kicked something, she looked down to see her lightsaber at her feet. She breathed a sigh of relief and ignited the blade, feeling a bit more secure in its radiant orange glow.

"It's just a dream," she repeated, her voice trembling as she clung to the reassurance that none of it was real. "Only a dream." She could control this dream, she was the master of her subconscious.

"Obi-Wan!" she called out, her desperation evident as she sought the familiar presence that could anchor her amidst the chaos. "Where are you?"

In the nightmare's depths, she scanned the shadowy expanse, but there was no sign of Obi-Wan.

"Obi-Wan!" she cried again, her voice tinged with desperation. Each breath formed icy clouds in the cold air, dissipating into nothingness.

A sudden movement caught her eye, and she turned slipping into the Guard pose of form three, Soresu, to face a spectral figure emerging from the shadows. Her blood went cold in her veins. It bore the likeness of her Master, Deva L'rue, his eyes ablaze with an otherworldly intensity that accused and condemned her without a single word spoken. Cressida recoiled in horror, unable to tear her gaze away from the haunting visage before her.

“Master?" she whispered, her voice trembling with fear and uncertainty.

She reached out tentatively with her senses, trying to determine if this was just another trick of her mind or a genuine message from beyond. She felt small once more, like the terrified padawan she had been all those years ago.

The phantom's form began to shift and warp, changing shape until it resembled Obi-Wan himself, but his eyes continued to burn with that same corrupted stare – a dark shadow of the man she cared for.

“It’s not real," Cressida muttered, shaking her head and taking a step back.

The menacing voice of the twisted apparition echoed through the darkness.

"Oh, but I am, Cressida, and you've led me here, to the darkness, just as you led your master."

He drew his lightsaber and ignited a red blade, adopting a stance she knew anywhere; form seven – Juyo. The same form her master had favored.

Phantom Stance.

Obi-Wan sank into a crouched position, resembling a feral beast more than a man; his lightsaber held high, poised for a strike, while the other hand was raised in a claw-like gesture toward Cressida as if beckoning her into the darkness.

"Tell me, darling," he sneered, venom dripping from the word 'darling', "Will you murder me too?"

As her heart pounded in her chest, Cressida gripped her lightsaber tightly, her body coiled with tension as she assumed Ataru's Gale Strike Pose. Her feet planted firmly, one leg slightly forward, and her lightsaber held high above her head, poised for a swift and aggressive strike.

With a guttural snarl, Obi-Wan lunged forward and their blades clashed in a whirlwind of searing hatred and fear. The crimson and burnt orange light danced around them, their weapons moved too fast for the eye to track, creating an otherworldly aura of fury and despair.

Obi-Wan's skills were unparalleled, parrying her strikes with alarming ease, he wielded this dark form of combat with a prowess that seemed to mock his serene mastery of Soresu. His eyes blazed with an intensity that deviated starkly from the calm focus usually associated with his fighting style. Every aggressive strike of his current form was somehow taunting the disciplined and centered approach he typically embraced.

Every strike of her blade against his felt weak and fragile, each movement she made felt slower and less effective than his. As if she didn’t have the decade of experience as a battle-proven sentinel, nor the skill to match it. Panic began to gnaw at her as she struggled to understand why she couldn't gain the upper hand, why this battle felt eerily familiar in a way that sent shivers down her spine.

It was as if some unseen force guided their movements, leading them down a path of destruction that they couldn't deviate from. Every strike felt preordained and filled her with dread and a sense of deja vu as if she had fought this battle before in another life.

Because she had.

A terrible feeling of foreboding crept up her spine

Her instincts screamed at her to end this nightmare, but she was powerless to stop it, she couldn’t lower her blade, couldn’t disarm him, couldn’t even allow him to strike her down. As though someone else was controlling her actions like a horrific marionette, she could offer no deviation. Trapped by the shadows of the past.

In an instant, their movements stilled, and the world around them froze.

Time seemed to grind to a halt as Obi-Wan loomed over Cressida, his lightsaber poised to strike. Every second stretched out in agonizing detail, etching itself into her mind with razor-sharp clarity.

With a surge of adrenaline, Cressida lunged forward, her senses heightened to an almost painful degree.

In a deafening cacophony, the sound of her lightsaber sizzling and then reigniting reverberated through the chamber, drowning out all other noise. The once pure and harmonic hum had twisted into a menacing growl, mirroring the corrupted state of Obi-Wan's blade.

The unmistakable scent of burning kyber crystals filled the air, assaulting her senses with an acrid tang. It was as if the very fabric of the Force recoiled in agony at the clash of their lightsabers, the tortured cries of the crystals reverberating through the chamber.

The metallic stench of blood flooded her senses, overpowering all other senses until it was the only thing she could taste. There should have been no smell of blood, lightsabers cauterized wounds in an instant, burning hotter than the surface of suns and stars. And yet, there she was, surrounded by the coppery scent of death.

At best it should have been the smell of burning flesh but that too was horrific sensory input.

She looked down in horror at the glowing blade protruding from Obi-Wan's chest, his once vibrant blue eyes now dull and lifeless. His lightsaber clattered to the ground and he slumped to his knees before falling back with a dull horrible thud.

Waves of guilt and despair crashed over her as she trembled uncontrollably, memories flooding back of a similar scene long ago.

"Obi-Wan, no," she begged, her voice cracking with desperation. “Not again,”

The invisible force that held sway over her movements released her from its grip finally allowing her lightsaber to fall from her grasp. And a deafening tinnitus screamed in her ears, piercing through her skull like shards of broken glass, growing louder and more shrill until it was almost unbearable. She fell to her knees, hands pressed tightly over her ears as the relentless ringing threatened to shatter her eardrums. Even her screams were drowned out by the agony of the never-ending sound.

Suddenly, she jolted to wakefulness with a waterlogged scream.

Her body thrashed and flailed, violently in the bacta tank's healing waters, desperate to escape the torturous nightmare that had gripped her mind.

The tank now felt like a watery prison, determined to hold her captive within her mind.

And although the respirator provided her oxygen beneath the waters, in her panic it felt like she couldn’t breathe with it on and she clawed at the mask attached to her face, ripping it free in a frenzy as she broke the surface of the tank.

Gasping for air, she clambered out frantically, landing with a thud on the hard floor, convulsing and heaving as if trying to expel the memory from her being. Retching violently, the once peaceful Halls of Healing now echoing with her screams and cries for mercy.

—

Obi-Wan sat across from his son, observing him with a sort of morbid fascination as he devoured his breakfast. The boy's enthusiasm for the stack of waffles before him was reminiscent of a snake unhinging its jaw to accommodate larger prey. In contrast, Obi-Wan's meal was far simpler: Tythonian yogurt and honey, a bowl of fruit, spiced eggs, and a steaming cup of sapir tea.

Solan shoveled another absurdly large forkful of waffles into his mouth with no signs of slowing and Obi-Wan couldn't help but wonder if his master, Qui-Gon, had ever regarded a young Obi-Wan with similar awe and slight horror. His once steaming breakfast was quickly growing cold, forgotten in the face of this bizarrely captivating sight.

"What?" Solan mumbled through a mouthful of waffles, catching Obi-Wan's gaze.

"Nothing," Obi-Wan replied, shaking his head with a small smile. He took a sip of his sapir tea, savoring its calming warmth. The foul mood that had greeted him upon waking was long gone, replaced by a sense of wonder and curiosity at the sight of his son, seated alone in the refectory.

He could feel the weight of their connection, both through blood and through the Force. Solan's blue and gray eyes, mirroring his parents, held an inquisitiveness that reminded him so much of himself at that age. The boy was eager to learn, ready to further his Jedi training, yet Obi-Wan sensed an underlying awareness of the implications of his heritage.

Obi-Wan's eyes flickered around the refectory, noting the empty chairs and half-eaten meals on the tables. The murmur of quiet conversations filled the air, but there was an undercurrent of tension that seemed to thrum through the room, as though a storm was brewing just beyond the walls. He turned his attention back to Solan, who remained oblivious to it all.

"Solan, you never said where your mother was. Do you think she’ll be joining us soon?"

Obi-Wan asked, not missing the way Solan's eyes darted away from his for a few moments, avoiding the question. Taking a bite of his eggs and chewing thoughtfully and slowly, Obi-Wan studied his son, trying to read the emotions that danced across the boy's expressive face.

"She went to the halls of healing late last night," Solan finally admitted, his voice barely audible over the din of the room.

Obi-Wan paused, a bite of eggs halfway to his mouth but the pause was brief, and he quickly finished the gesture. A shadow of uncertainty clouded his eyes as he looked up at Obi-Wan, clearly unsure if he should be sharing this information. It came as no surprise to Obi-Wan that his son offered up the answer so reluctantly; Solan carried his own wealth of secrets, and at times the psychological burden of such made him physically shrink. This was one of those times.

Obi-Wan chose his next words very carefully, he could see the worry in Solan’s eyes, and he didn’t want to give Solan any reason to feel as though he shared what was meant to be kept secret. He considered reaching out with the Force, trying to sense any disturbances or hidden truths in Solan's mind, but thought it too invasive.

"Is she not feeling well?" Obi-Wan pressed gently, trying to mask his concern with curiosity.

Solan hesitated, picking at the remnants of his waffles and looking down to avoid his father's gaze and Obi-Wan recognized the subtle tug-of-war within Solan – the desire to share what was happening with his mother, but also the fear of betraying her trust.

He could sense the weight of this information pressing down on Solan's young shoulders. Obi-Wan's heart tightened as he observed Solan's downcast eyes, the boy's small hands clenching and unclenching in his lap.

“I’m not sure,” Uncertainty colored his words and his eyes darted around the room before finally settling back on his father.

Obi-Wan understood he was holding a tool in his hands far more powerful than any lightsaber, the ability to ease his sons fears. With a sip of his tea and a nod of his head, he smiled softly. The warmth of the tea spread through him, granting him a momentary sense of calm. He tried to project this serenity onto Solan, knowing how important it was to keep his son's trust.

"Well, it's coming upon that time of year; colds and illness tend to spike a bit with the changing of seasons, and your mother's been off-world for some time. It could be that she's getting used to it again." He gave a soft chuckle, “It does tend to kick one in the backside though,”

Solan's eyes widened in surprise, the green pools reflecting the overhead lights as he looked up from his tea, its surface rippling with each tiny movement. "Really?" he asked.

"Oh yes," Obi-Wan replied, allowing himself a small smile as he watched the petals dance around his son. "The halls of healing will be a busy place soon, younglings, padawans, knights, and even masters tend to come down with a little something, I wouldn't worry though. But you'd do best to watch your own health as well, Solan, if you feel unwell, we need to make sure you're well-rested."

“A tired mind doesn’t learn,” Obi-Wan said gently, brushing away the unease coiling inside him. "I'm sure your mother will be fine."

He watched Solan's expression soften, the lines of tension easing from his brow. Relief flooded Obi-Wan, knowing that he had reassured his son, even if only for a moment. His concerns remained, however, burrowed deep within his thoughts, like a shadowy whisper he couldn't quite silence.

Why was she in the Halls of Healing?

"Did she say anything else before she left?" Obi-Wan probed, hoping to glean more information without pushing Solan too far. “Maybe any symptoms she was experiencing?”

Solan shook his head, his gaze skittering away once more. "N-no, just that she needed to go."

He hoped the words would bring comfort, and they appeared to as Solan offered a weak smile but a seemingly genuine one. The kind of smile given when the worry remains but the doubt is gone and he picked up his fork again.

But it was all a lie.

Obi-Wan didn’t like the way falsehoods tasted in his mouth - he had always prided himself on honesty, as any Jedi would. But at times a little misdirection to allay greater fears was the better option. Yes, the seasons were changing but not in any way that saw colds and illnesses the way Obi-Wan had described. There were an abundance of allergies, and casualties of the pollen in the air, and as someone who was often afflicted, Obi-Wan knew the difference all too well.

He glanced at Solan, who was staring down at his plate, breaking off another smaller bite of waffles. The morning light filtering through the windows cast a gentle glow on his son's face, emphasizing the resemblance to his own features. He knew Solan was hiding something about Cressida's condition, but pressing for more information would only make the boy withdraw further.

He had to be smart about this and form a strategy. So he opted for a change of subject that would ease Solan’s mind.

"Let’s talk about your training, are you ready to continue?"

“Are we going back to the archives?” Solan's eyes lit up with excitement, the topic of training after two days of rest did the job rather splendidly.

“Not yet, Solan, we need to discuss what happened.”

Solan's voracious appetite diminished almost instantly, and he paused, a hint of uncertainty flickering in his eyes as he swallowed his food. Despite his youthful optimism, there was a noticeable change in his demeanor, a subtle acknowledgment of the seriousness of the situation.

"Am I in trouble?"

Before Obi-Wan could answer with a thought-out response, a delicate hand found its way into Solan’s hair, ruffling it playfully.

“Why? Did you do something or did you simply get caught?”

Cressida appeared giving them both a warm smile, a steaming cup of caf cradled in her other hand, as she took a seat next to Obi-Wan as though she had been right behind them the whole time.

With her arrival came a wave of pure relief, Solan smiled and fixed his hair, notably parting it back the way it had been which seemed to mirror how Obi-Wan styled his. Making Solan look like a smaller cleaner cleaner-shaven Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan too felt relief but it was short-lived as his keen eye began to take notice of small things, the tips of her hair were slightly damp, her olive pallor was a bit diffused giving her a slightly paler countenance and the almost indiscernible scent of bacta clung to her. He’d spent more than his fair share of time inside the damn tanks and he personally hated them, he didn’t like how trapped he felt, nor did he like the sterile smell, especially after the Clone Wars.

"Curiosity is no sin, Solan," she said softly, her voice carrying an underlying note of exhaustion. "But your father is right, we need to talk about what happened."

Her words seemed steadfast and certain, but there was a frailty to how she looked. His mind raced, trying to connect the dots between her appearance and the overwhelming sense of dread he'd experienced earlier that morning. The sudden chill he’d felt, had been all-encompassing like a bucket of icey water had been dumped on his and he’d felt every hair on his body standing on end.

Something was wrong, and it felt like it was lurking just beneath the surface, ready to emerge when least expected.

"Mom, are you okay?" Solan asked. “Dad said you might be getting sick from the change of seasons, are you feeling better?”

She didn’t miss a beat and nodded, “Well, your father would certainly know, and yes, it seems being back on world has finally caught up with me.” Cressida offered a weak smile. "I’m fine, just a little tired. Now, let's talk about your training, sounds like your father has quite the morning planned."

As they discussed Solan's progress and areas for improvement, Obi-Wan couldn't shake the feeling that they were dancing around a hidden truth. His instincts screamed at him to delve deeper, but it would have to wait until later, he made a mental note to investigate the matter.

"Solan, there’s someone I- your mother, and I want you to meet.” He corrected himself, remembering how this was meant to be a unified decision between them despite the disparity they felt. “There's a Jedi Master who shares your ability to touch objects and read their histories," Obi-Wan explained, noting the shift in Solan's expression from worry to wonder.

"Really?" Solan's eyes widened in amazement until Cressida gently nudged his open mouth closed, again. "I thought no one else could do it."

Obi-Wan chuckled and shook his head, “Not at all, psychometry is indeed a rare skill and few Jedi have the aptitude for it, but I know of one who does. His name is Quinlan Voss and I’ve known him for many years.”

Solan’s waffles sat forgotten and he blinked in disbelief and awe. “Now? When can I meet him? Can I meet him today? Is he here?” His questions came off as rapid fire and he began to practically vibrate in his seat.

“He’s currently off-world but he will be back in two cycles. I've reached out to him and asked for some of his time, he’s agreed to meet with us, all of us. That we might better be able to help understand and help you in learning to master your ability.”

Solan nodded, not to a question but merely as an excited gesture, his appetite returned to full force and he began shoveling waffles back into his mouth.

“Until then we’ll work on your training and when we all have a better understanding of how to help you, then we’ll return to the archives.”

"If we're not going to the archives, then what’re we doing today?"

"How about some lightsaber training?" Solan's excitement radiated boundlessly as he bounced in his seat.

"Really!" Solan exclaimed eagerly.

Obi-Wan nodded, "And some meditation of course,”

"I think I'm ready to try the shielding exercise again," Solan declared confidently, earning a surprised smile from Obi-Wan.

"That's wonderful. Your enthusiasm is commendable, if you feel ready we will try it again." Obi-Wan praised, his satisfaction evident. "After our training, your mother has something planned, doesn't she?”

“Since your father seems to have the more physical aspect of training for the day, I think we’ll focus on force sensitivity and control as well as a discussion on ethics and morality and maybe we’ll talk about the Jedi Initiate Trials and what that entails of, they’re a few months away. I think if you focus, we could see you ready to take the trials this year.”

Her goals were lofty and Solan looked a bit worried and overwhelmed but Obiwan seemed pleased and he also seemed to agree with her assessment.

“Your mother’s right, if we focus and you tackle your training there’s no stopping you. A master could be right around the corner for you, and maybe a padawan braid along with it.”

With the vote of confidence from his parents and the mention of a braid possibly in his near future, he nodded and sat a little straighter before taking a large bite of his waffles.

"Solan, as delicious as those waffles may be, there's no need to make a spectacle of it," Cressida gently scolded, reaching to cover his mouth with a napkin. "You eat like your father," She remarked with a smile, and Solan grinned back, his face adorned with a crumb-filled smile.

"Meaning what, exactly?" Obi-Wan quipped a hint of indignation in his gaze, he looked to Solan who was stifling a laugh, and then back to Cressida. "If you mean a healthy appetite, then yes, it appears he takes after me,"

"Hollow leg and all,"

However, as she smirked and sipped her caf, it dawned on him that she was teasing him. The subtle curve of her lips betrayed her amusement, catching him off guard, especially considering their previous encounters. He was relieved to see it and a bit of the worry he was carrying slipped from his shoulders.

"Mom, aren’t you hungry?”

The relief he'd just felt vanished, replaced by a renewed heaviness in his chest.

She shook off Solan's concern with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I'll eat later," she assured them, a subtle resignation creeping into her voice, leaving Obi-Wan unsettled.

His eyes darted between them, catching the tension in Cressida's stance and her reluctance to look at him, in fact, she hadn’t really looked at him at all. Yet, it struck him that she wasn't even looking at Solan either.

Carefully tracking her line of sight, he had a strong hunch she was staring at a nondescript spot on the opposite wall, her expression vacant, as if only half there, hiding something.

The tension from their earlier talk resurfaced, and he felt disappointed to suspect her initial playfulness might have just been a trick to divert Solan's attention. Yet, Obi-Wan stayed quiet, sensing it wasn't the right time for a confrontation. Luckily, Solan seemed oblivious to the subtle tension, happily focused on his breakfast. Although Obi-Wan wished to address the underlying issue, he couldn't quite figure out how to bridge the gap.

She glanced back at him, giving a brief nod that seemed almost rehearsed, her emotional walls still firmly in place. It puzzled him, like trying to solve an unsolvable riddle. Despite the tension between them, she appeared outwardly composed. Never had he felt so bewildered by a relationship. She wasn't his wife, nor were they involved romantically, though they once had been very intimately connected—she was the mother of his son. His mind raced with questions. What did he expect from her? A warm smile, a hug, maybe even a kiss?

Despite the invisible divide between them, it amazed him how quickly he had grown accustomed to enjoying their presence, how effortless it felt. Guiding Solan with a hand on his shoulder felt natural, as did sitting beside Cressida, whether as a partner or a parental figure. Uncertain of his own desires, he simply wished to understand Cressida's thoughts about him, whether there was something more between them—romantic or not. Or if there ever could be.

Those thoughts were vexing, everything about his relationship with Cressida was. He turned back to his tea, it was growing cold.

—

Obi-Wan handed Solan a training saber, then took a few steps away putting a distance of maybe two meters between them, igniting his own lightsaber, its weight was vastly different compared to a proper lightsaber though it still emitted a soft glow that cast shadows across the room. Solan hesitated for a moment, his fingers tracing the hilt of the saber before he looked up at Obi-Wan.

"Are you going to ignite your saber, Solan?" Obi-Wan asked, curiously.

Solan shook his head. "No, Master.”

“Why not?”

There was a genuine confusion in his question. Solan had been so excited to train with lightsabers, had he somehow misread his son?

“There's no need for it. A lightsaber should only be drawn when de-escalation, retreat, or negotiation isn't an option," he replied calmly, catching Obi-Wan by surprise with the eloquent and diplomatic answer.

He nodded in agreement, impressed by Solan's understanding of the importance of exhausting all other alternatives before embracing combat.

"Very well said, Solan," Obi-Wan commended. "You have a keen grasp of the Jedi way."

Solan smiled modestly, but then Obi-Wan stepped towards him and Solan retreated the same distance.

“But, noble as your logic is, I still have a weapon drawn on you and there is nowhere for you to run to, what will you do now?”

“Is negotiation not an option?” Obi-Wan chuckled heartily at his son.

“I’m afraid not, my boy. And I won’t be swayed away from combat either, what will you do now?”

Solan heaved out a breath and ignited the training blade, slipping into the Guard pose of form three; Soresu. His blade held horizontally across his body, parallel to the ground, weight balanced on his back right foot. Obi-Wan smiled at the familiar pose and Solan’s impeccable posture.

"Now, let's begin with lightsaber forms," Obi-Wan continued, readying himself for the training. He raised his training saber in preparation to strike. "Why form three, Solan?" Obi-Wan inquired, observing Solan's stance with interest and a bit of pride.

Solan met Obi-Wan's gaze, his expression determined.

"I need to be defensive, Master. I don't know what form you're using, and I don't know my opponent. Form three allows me to adapt quickly and defend against any attack," he explained confidently, his words laced with tactical insight.

"Impressive, Solan. Your tactical thinking will serve you well in your Jedi training." Obi-Wan nods approvingly, a sense of pride swelling within him. “Tell me, by what other name is form three known by?”

“The Way of the Mynock. It was developed in the Old Republic in response to the growing use of blasters by Sith and enemies of the Jedi, by Jedi Master Cin Drallig during the Jedi Order's study of lightsaber combat.”

Solan's in-depth and concise answer was surprising and Obi-Wan nodded approvingly, he took another step toward Solan. The hum of lightsabers filled the room as Obi-Wan's lightsaber clashed against Solan's in an overhead parry.

Sensing Solan's struggle as he attempted to maintain his defensive block, Obi-Wan advised, "You can't maintain a block forever, Solan. Eventually, you'll need to counter or find another way to defend yourself."

Solan considered Obi-Wan's words carefully, realizing the truth in his father’s advice. With a quick nod and a subtle shift in his position, Solan disengaged from the block with a push and took several steps back, creating distance between himself and Obi-Wan.

“A tactical retreat? Very well,” Obi-Wan watched Solan's movement with keen interest, noting the shift in forms. "Form four or five, Solan?" he mused aloud, recognizing the deliberate choice to create distance. “Aggression or balance?”

Solan gave a coy little shrug and a smirk.

"Why the switch from form three, Solan? Form three was working well for you. You had a solid defense." Obi-Wan inquired, curiosity evident in his tone.

Solan met Obi-Wan's gaze, determination shining in his eyes. "I know you're a master of form three, Master Obi-Wan. I didn't want you to predict my next move," Solan explained calmly, his words reflecting a practical mindset beyond his years.

Obi-Wan nodded in acknowledgment, impressed by Solan's strategic thinking. "Your logic is sound, Solan. But be mindful—constantly switching forms can be tiring and may appear unfocused to your opponent," he advised.

“That would be their mistake,” Solan replied, bringing a smile to Obi-Wan’s face, Solan slipped back into a defensive posture.

Obi-Wan offers a small smile of approval. "Indeed it would be, Solan," he agrees. "But you must also remember that victory in combat often requires a balance between defense and offense. Sometimes, you need to seize the initiative and take the fight to your opponent."

Obi-Wan raised his blade and lunged to strike.

—

In a chamber of the Northwestern Tower, Cressida stood surrounded by holographic displays, each revealing a different aspect of Anakin Skywalker's life. Her deft fingers navigated the many displays, allowing her to pull focus, pause, or zoom in on any particular bit of information at any time.

From the dusty plains of Tatooine where Master Qui-Gon Jinn first discovered him, to the recent HoloNet broadcast of his somewhat scandalous marriage to Senator Padmé Amidala, no detail escaped her scrutiny.

Anakin's mysterious birth and the absence of any biological father shrouded in mystery, yet underscored by Qui-Gon Jinn's steadfast belief in the prophecy of the Chosen One.

Medical reports detailed his remarkable midichlorian count, sparking speculation and debate among the Jedi. His history unfolded as a tale of resilience, intertwined with the story of his enslavement alongside his mother, Shmi, and her tragic fate. Details of his family on Tatooine provided insight into his past. Records also highlighted Qui-Gon Jinn's involvement until his death on Naboo, at the hands of the re-emerging Sith. Obi-Wan Kenobi's pivotal role as Anakin's mentor, including archival footage of his impassioned plea to the council to honor Qui-Gon's dying wish, and the Jedi High Council's decision to allow Skywalker's Jedi training.

After becoming a knight, reports detailed General Skywalker's achievements in the Clone Wars. His bravery in battle made his name famous, but there were also controversial moments, such as his execution of Count Dooku. His relationship with his former Padawan, Ahsoka Tano, was rocky, from her trial and expulsion to her eventual exoneration and departure. Despite the fact, he had been vocal in his belief in her innocence. Skywalker's appointment to the Jedi High Council by Chancellor Palpatine raised eyebrows, and there was controversy when he was denied the rank of Jedi Master. However, his recent arrest of Senator Palpatine led to him finally being promoted to Master.

She’d read over it all many times, yet despite the work ahead of her and the vast amount of information available at her fingertips, her thoughts on her investigation stagnated and her mind wandered elsewhere. Her encounter with Yoda after she’d left Solan and Obi-Wan to train was still fresh in her mind, and it had left her pondering the extent of his knowledge regarding her personal situation. Yoda's ability to discern more than he let on didn't surprise her; he had always seemed to possess insights beyond the obvious. But it did worry her, she’d thought she was guarding her secrets well, yet after their discussion on the way to the Tower of First Knowledge, she was doubting herself as Yoda's words echoed in her thoughts, each line carrying a weight that she couldn't shake.

"Strength from burdens can be gained, yes. But weariness, they also bring. And weariness over time, erodes strength, it does."

"All Jedi are your family, including Obi-Wan. Do not forget."

"Over you, tiredness hangs, and only caf for breakfast, no breakfast at all is. Closely, the smell of bacta follows you. Neglecting one's well-being in favor of stubbornness, it does not do well."

Her contemplations were interrupted by the mechanical hiss of the heavy blast doors opening, for a brief moment the barrier that sequestered her from the rest of the Tower waivered announcing the intrusion into her solitude. Noxella’s shadowy figure seamlessly melded into the room's dimly lit corners. A practiced nod acknowledged her presence, unfazed by Noxella's otherworldly entrances; they had become routine. Yet, this was different. A solemn aura clung to Noxella, the uncharacteristic shift in her demeanor unsettled Cressida. It was as if the usually detached figure had been touched by an unfamiliar sorrow, casting an unexpected shadow over the chamber and stirring unease.

"Cressida," Noxella greeted quietly wearing a soft smile that looked so unnaturally forced, her hands clasped behind her back.

Cressida's apprehensive smile faltered at the sight of Noxella's unusual expression. It wasn’t to say that Noxella was often the bearer of bad news but rather if she was smiling in any capacity, it was usually to cushion the incoming blow.

"Noxella, what brings you here?"

"I have news," Noxella replied, her tone grave. "About Obi-Wan."

Cressida's interest piqued at the mention of Obi-Wan, "What news? Is he alright?"

Noxella paused for a moment, steeling herself before delivering her message. "You were aware of Obi-Wan's formal request to be briefed on your off-world mission, were you not?"

A glimmer of hope ignited within Cressida's heart. "I was. Did the council reach a decision?"

The darkness in Noxella's expression told a story all its own. "Yes, but the council's decision requires unanimity.” Noxella hesitated before delivering the crushing blow. “And I regret to inform you that it wasn't achieved."

Her hope plummeted like a falling star, replaced by a sense of disappointment and frustration.

“So, they denied his request?"

Noxella nodded solemnly, her eyes betraying her own disappointment in the council's decision. "I'm afraid so."

"I see," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. With a wave of her hand over the holo displays all traces of the investigation went black and the room darkened briefly before the lights shifted the illumination to a more acceptable lever.

Noxella's gaze softened, her expression sympathetic. "It wasn't my decision, you must know that," she reassured, her tone tinged with regret. "I share your belief that Obi-Wan deserves to know everything."

Despite her disappointment, Cressida nodded, her resolve unyielding. "I trust in the council's judgment, even if I don't understand it," she admitted, a hint of resignation in her voice. "Thank you for informing me, Noxella."

The news delivered, though it could have been communicated over a com, there was no reason for Noxella to remain, yet she didn’t leave, she took a step closer standing opposite Cressida. Her expression softened, her concern deepening

"How is your investigation proceeding?"

Cressida exhaled wearily, her posture drooping as she pondered the inquiry. "I've thoroughly reviewed all available information, and although there have been a few minor missteps, there's no evidence to indicate that Anakin Skywalker was aware of Palpatine's ulterior motives. Considering recent developments, his connection to the Force appears stronger than ever, and he remains steadfastly aligned with the light side. Anakin Skywalker poses no danger, in my estimation."

Noxella's brow furrowed in concern, "But you suspect Palpatine did have plans for him?" she asked, seeking clarification.

Cressida's nod was solemn, her demeanor grave. "Indeed, strategically speaking, Anakin would have been a prime candidate for an apprentice," she began, her tone measured. "His midichlorian count, the highest ever documented, coupled with his remarkable achievements at such a young age, would have undoubtedly caught Palpatine's attention." She paused, her expression thoughtful. "It's likely that Palpatine would have manipulated circumstances to lure Anakin, putting his friends, allies, and loved ones at risk. While the immediate threat has subsided, it's imperative that we remain vigilant, keeping a close watch on anyone in Master Skywalker's circle for any signs of danger."

Noxella's relief was palpable, though tempered by lingering worry. "I see," she murmured, her tone thoughtful.

Curiosity flickered in Cressida's eyes as she observed her friend's reaction. "Is something wrong, Noxella?" she inquired, sensing there was more to her mentor’s unease.

Noxella hesitated, "Extended stays in the bacta can cause one to lose their appetite," she began carefully, her words measured. “You look a little thin,”

Cressida looked weak and apprehensive, but didn’t bother to hide it, hiding things from Noxella would go over about as well as hiding things from Yoda. They simply couldn’t be done. Cressida's discomfort was palpable as she shifted uneasily in her seat, her gaze dropping to the floor.

With a gentle yet probing tone, Noxella ventured, "Another nightmare?" Cressida's response was a terse nod. “They are growing worse, aren’t they?”

This time Cressida didn’t answer, maybe too afraid of what she might say.

Noxella regarded her with a mix of concern and hesitation. "It’s been my greatest desire to protect you from the time you came into my mentorship as a teen girl after the loss of your master, as such I've been hesitant to send you off-world since your return," she admitted, her voice soft but firm. "I am well aware of the pressures you are under."

Cressida's brows furrowed in confusion, her mind racing to piece together Noxella's concern. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice laced with uncertainty.

"I worry that sitting here, surrounded by holos, may be doing more harm than good." Noxella's expression softened, her concern evident in her gaze. "And with each nightmare, every dip into the bacta’s waters I realize that perhaps my concern for your well-being, is in fact, hampering it," she admitted gently. "But, perhaps it's time for a change of scenery, a new focus now that it seems your investigation is running its course."

"An assignment?" Interest sparked in Cressida's gaze, a faint curiosity that rose like the first star at twilight, her guarded demeanor relaxing ever so slightly.

Noxella nodded, her lips curving into a small smile. "Yes," she confirmed. "Low risk, just information gathering. And you wouldn't be alone; you'd have a partner. No thrilling heroics, I’m afraid."

Cressida's lips parted, then closed, as if she weighed her words against the weeks of isolation and convalescence that had become her world. Then, with a lift of her chin that echoed the lineage of countless warriors before her, she met Noxella's gaze squarely.

"I'm ready."

—

Solan had started mimicking his father’s mannerisms not long after the nature of their relationship became known to him, both his parents had seen it and at first, Obi-wan wasn’t sure what to think of it but it quickly became a source of amusement for him. It was quite entertaining to see a ten-year-old boy stroking his chin in the same absent-minded way that Obi-Wan often did when lost in thought.

He even had Obi-Wan’s controlled and graceful gait nailed as well; confidently, head held high, shoulders back, hand clasped behind him, taking slow measured strides, though admittedly Solan had to keep to a quicker gait due to his father’s longer legs. He looked very much like a much smaller Obi-Wan, minus the facial hair.

Obi-Wan couldn't help but be flattered by this imitation; after all, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

It reminded him of his days as a young Jedi Knight, trying so hard to mimic the perfect poise and stoicism of the Jedi Masters whom he looked up to and admired. But ultimately found himself carrying himself more like his late master, Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon, who had very much so, always moved to the beat of his own drum.

But even that too felt a bit forced, and eventually, he developed his own unique way of carrying himself, which his son more often than not mimicked.

Solan wore a wide grin on his face that outshone even the brightest stars in the galaxy as they strolled through the halls after their busy morning of lightsaber instruction, a meditation session, and finishing off their time with a shared afternoon meal.

Their discussion of combat forms and principles had invigorated him in a way he hadn't felt in ages. Solan was always full of surprises when it came to his knowledge and insights. Not like Anakin, who used to butt heads with him over the proper techniques, and an endless barrage of questions that often felt combative. But Solan soaked it all up like a sponge, hungry to learn more, hanging off every word his father said.

Solan's true self began to emerge. His steps took on a lighter and more carefree cadence, with a hint of excitement in each bounce.

Obi-Wan couldn't help but smile as he watched his son, it was contagious, so much that he found himself smiling brightly too. And with Solan by his side, Obi-Wan found himself walking with a newfound casualness reminiscent of his early days mentoring Anakin.

No need to be so formal all the time, he mused.

"You did exceptionally well today, Solan," Obi-Wan remarked, his voice filled with genuine pride. "Your understanding of the forms is remarkable for one so young."

Solan beamed with pride, his chest swelling a little with each word of his father’s praise. "Thanks, Obi-wan,"

Obi-Wan studied his son carefully as they walked, questions brimming in his eyes, "I'm curious, though. How did you become so proficient with the forms, given the... unconventional nature of your upbringing?"

Solan's expression softened, a faraway look on his face as he recalled fond memories.

“Well, mom couldn't teach me like other younglings, but she said it was important and that we had to be sneaky about it."

He smiled slightly, reminiscing. "And we had to hide what we were doing, so no one would find out who we were or what she was really teaching me, so she taught me like she was teaching me a dance."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows raised in surprise at the revelation. "A dance?"

Solan nodded happily, “She started with form one when I was four, it was just before she had to leave me for a mission, and she told me to practice while she was gone and we would work on them together when she got back. She said I had to learn the footwork perfectly first. And while she was gone I would practice all day and all night until I fell asleep, when she came home, I’d show her what I learned, we would practice together and then she’d teach me more."

It was such a simple solution and it wasn’t unheard of for combat to be compared to a dance. In fact, the two boasted many similarities. What a delightful way to teach an excitable child!

"That's quite clever indeed."

“The tricky part was learning how to do the forms without being able to use a lightsaber,”

Obi-Wan paused, he hadn’t considered that, Solan’s form with even the training saber seemed as natural as breathing, like he’d been doing it for years.

“What did your mother use in place of a lightsaber?”

“She stole a scarf from a merchant!” Obi-Wan’s eyebrow shot up in surprise.

“Your mother did what?”

Solan laughed loudly and nodded, “Yup! She went to the market at night, snuck in, stole a bright blue scarf from a merchant, and told me to pretend it was a lightsaber.”

His voice grew more animated as he explained. "It felt really silly doing it at first,” Obi-Wan nodded, that he could certainly understand, and the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. “But then she told me it would make learning look more like it was really a dance and not lightsaber forms. She said it was all about precision and control, and when the time came all I would need to adjust to was the weight of a lightsaber."

Obi-Wan nodded thoughtfully, a newfound appreciation for Cressida's methods dawning on him. Solan's movements did have a certain grace and fluidity to them. A scarf as a training tool? Obi-Wan chuckled at the simplicity of the solution, meant to keep Solan accustomed to something in his hand and be mindful of how his movements dictated the movement of something as simple as a scarf. And indeed, the more he thought of it, the more it did seem like the graceful forms of combat might look like an elegant dance to an untrained eye. Who looks for a Jedi with a lightsaber when all they can see is a boy with a colored scarf, dancing?

Obi-Wan stopped and crossed his arms over his chest, “Do you still have the scarf?” Solan nodded and reached into his robes pulling out a slightly faded blue scarf that looked like it had been his most treasured possession.

Obi-Wan smiled “Show me.”

Solan stood at the center of the large empty hall and began with his feet shoulder-width apart, holding the scarf in both hands. The pose was Whirwinds Embrace; he spun swiftly, using the momentum to propel himself forward in a lunging motion. As he extended his arms outward, the scarf flew forward as a lightsaber might deflect an incoming attack, creating a protective barrier around him. He moved seamlessly into Cascade of Serenity; beginning with a series of quick, evasive steps, weaving between imaginary opponents, the azure scarf fluttering in a way reminiscent of the blurred light of a lightsaber. He lowered his arms as if striking down adversaries with precise, flowing movements, the scarf acting as an extension of his will. Despite the intensity of his actions, his demeanor remained calm and composed, reflecting his mastery of the Force.

Obi-Wan watched transfixed at his son, as he executed these very same movements just hours earlier with a training saber but this was somehow different and it did, indeed look like a stunning piece of performance art. Who would have thought a mere scarf could be an effective training tool? Yet here was living proof of Cressida's resourcefulness as an unorthodox teacher.

The series of quick and agile spins of Zephyrs Dance flowed as beautifully as a ballet, evading imaginary attacks from all directions. Each whirl of the scarf disarmed imaginary opponents and created openings for counterattacks, his movements still graceful yet unpredictable to a degree, it would surely keep adversaries off balance and unable to predict his next move. It would be a perfect form for a craft assassin to get close to a target.

Obi-Wan watched attentively as Solan moved through the elegant motions of Form I, admiring the boy's natural talent and dedication to the art of lightsaber combat. Despite his unconventional upbringing, it was clear he had a natural aptitude for the art of combat.

His final pose was Cresting Wave; Solan exploded into motion surging forward with a spriteful leap, the scarf trailing behind him like a comet’s tail. As he moved, the scar flew before him creating an artful barrier that mimicked a flurry of attacks, each strike of the scarf delivered with precision. His movements like a force of nature, unstoppable and relentless as a wave crashing on the shore, embodying the strength and ferocity of a Jedi in battle.

The scarf fluttered to his side as he came to rest in a ready pose completing the motions and looking to his father who simply watched in fascination before offering applause, clapping at his son who beamed brightly. To the casual observer, it may have looked like dancing, but Obi-Wan recognized the solid foundations of Form One.

"Remarkable," mused Obi-Wan. "Your graceful style is a testament to your mother’s wisdom."

Solan tucked the scarf back into his robes, and suddenly looked around and shrunk back slightly as a few Jedi passed through the halls, his voice was soft and he looked uncertain.

"That's ok, right Obi-Wan?” he asked, brow furrowing. “That Mom taught me with a scarf instead of a real lightsaber? It’s not, disrespectful or anything, right?"

Obi-Wan squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "Not at all, my boy. In fact, I believe your training has prepared you remarkably well. You show a grace and fluidity in your movements that surpass many trainees your age.”

Obi-Wan's hand rested reassuringly on Solan's shoulder as they continued walking, a simple gesture that spoke volumes to the boy. Though Solan tried to exude confidence, there was an unmistakable spring in his step now, a lightness that came from his father's praise.

“Solan, your understanding of Shii-Cho is well-rounded, few grasp the form so quickly. You're going to make a fine duelist someday."

Solan beamed, relief washing over his face, his cheeks reddened at the praise. "You really think so?" He had spent his young life concealing his abilities, but to have them recognized and encouraged lit a fire in him.

"I do," Obi-Wan affirmed. He was certain the boy would grow to be a skilled warrior.

And yet, glimpses of playfulness peeked through Solan's studious exterior - the bounce in his step. He was still a child at heart.

"The unconventional nature of your instruction is a testament to your mother's wisdom and creativity, the fundamentals are all there" Obi-Wan continued. "She did well to start you on the right path." As they continued on, Obi-Wan made a mental note to thank Cressida for instilling such a solid foundation in the boy. Her ingenious methods had served Solan well.

Obi-Wan gave his shoulder a paternal squeeze.

"You have nothing to worry about," the Jedi Master said warmly. "Now come, your mother awaits us. And I am certain she will be most pleased to hear of your progress today."

“When can I go to Illum and make my lightsaber?”

His enthusiasm was infectious and Obi-Wan chuckled. "All in due time, young one. For now, let's continue honing your skills."

As they stepped off the turbolift and neared Solan and Cressida’s quarters an idea struck him.

"You know, Solan," he began, a playful glint in his eyes, "I suppose I'll have to make sure you know how to dance properly as well."

Solan looked up quizzically. "Dance? Like, real dancing?”

Obi-Wan nodded. "Indeed. Combat and dance have much in common - precision, fluidity, reading your partner."

Solan arched an eyebrow, curiosity evident in his expression, a hint of skepticism in his voice. "Why would I need to learn that?"

Obi-Wan chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You never know when it might come in handy," he replied cryptically. "Charm and poise can be as great a tool as a lightsaber sometimes."

Solan looked unconvinced, nose still wrinkled in distaste. Obi-Wan suppressed another laugh. The boy had his mother's stubborn streak, that much was clear.

"Come now, dancing isn't so dreadful," Obi-Wan cajoled. "It can even be fun, with the right partner."

Solan made a face. "Do I have to dance with girls?"

The thought seemed to disturb him greatly. Now Obi-Wan did laugh out loud at the boy's reaction, as it reminded him so much of himself at that age. He too had found the idea of dancing with girls thoroughly unappealing, long ago.

"Perhaps someday you won't mind so much," he said, eyes dancing with mirth. "After all, your mother is a girl, and you love her, don't you?"

"That's different," Solan insisted, though his expression had softened a bit. "She's my mom."

Obi-Wan nodded in understanding, an amused smile still playing about his lips. "Yes, I suppose you're right about that, “Regardless, a gentleman should know the basics. No lightsabers on the dance floor."

He added with a smile. “Manners matter, Solan, I should need to make sure you at least can grasp the fundaments of actual dancing. Perhaps we’ll get your mother to help teach you, no doubt she could probably use a lesson too, she was about as keen as you are when she was young.”

Solan didn’t seem interested, "Well, you can dance with Mom, and I'll stick to lightsabers." Obi-wan smiled at the thought. What would Solan do when he saw a girl he found pretty?

The doors to their quarters slid open and Solan strode on in, Obi-Wan braced himself for a conversation that he knew might not go as he would have liked but he wanted to continue to be present for Solan's training. Yes, that was it, he would simply ask if she minded if he stayed put for whatever lesson she had to teach. It wasn’t such a difficult thing, they were both mature adults and could certainly behave as such, couldn’t they?

He followed Solan inside and immediately sensed something was wrong. The boy's shoulders were slumped, his footsteps lacking their usual lively bounce. Obi-Wan noticed the somber expression on his young companion's face as he stared at the table in the living space. Following Solan's gaze, Obi-Wan spotted the objects that had given the boy pause - a data stick and a lightsaber.

Obi-Wan's heart sank, though he tried not to outwardly react. He had a dreadful feeling he knew what Solan had realized. The data stick and lightsaber could only mean one thing - Cressida had left unexpectedly. Though Obi-Wan was surprised by this development, he remained calm, not wanting to upset Solan further.

"Solan," he began gently. "Is everything alright?"

He did not respond right away, still processing this discovery. After a long moment, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "She's gone."

Obi-Wan's heart ached at the quiver in Solan's voice.

Solan's face fell as he lifted the cylindrical hilt, running his fingers over the ridged metal grip of his mother's lightsaber. Though unlit, he could almost see the brilliant orange blade humming before him. With reverent care, he looped the data stick's cord around his neck, tucking the precious drive out of sight beneath his robes.

"Even if," he murmured, gaze distant.

Obi-Wan's brows knitted together, perplexed by the odd remark. But the Jedi Master held his tongue, unwilling to pry into such an intimate, vulnerable moment. Whatever Solan's whispered words had meant, some sorrows were too tender to be touched so soon.

Solan's eyes refocused, meeting his father's concerned stare. "You can go, father. I think I'll meditate and eat, then I'll go to bed. I'll see you in the morning at breakfast." Though his words were polite, his tone was flat and lifeless.

Obi-Wan frowned. The complete lack of emotion in the boy's voice bothered him deeply. This was not the Solan he knew - usually so quick to laughter and enthusiasm.

"No," he said firmly, a decision made in an instant.

Solan looked up, confusion flickering across his features.

"Solan, go and gather your things. You'll stay with me in my quarters until your mother returns."

For a minute the boy didn't move, uncertainty plain on his face. Then, with a gentle nudge through the Force from Obi-Wan, he stepped towards his bedroom, movements slow and hesitant. Still, there was a spark of excitement in his aura at the prospect of spending this time with his father.

As Solan busied himself packing, Obi-Wan turned his gaze to the window. The sun was setting over Coruscant, staining the sky crimson and gold.

"May the Force be with you, Cressida," he whispered into the fading light, hoping with all his heart for her safe return.

A few moments later Solan emerged from his bedroom, a small bag clutched in one hand. He hovered in the doorway, shoulders hunched, as if reluctant to leave the familiar comfort of his room.

Obi-Wan gave him an encouraging smile and held out an encouraging arm to beckon him. "Come, let's be off."

Together they left the quarters Solan had shared with his mother, Solan walked slowly, dragging his feet. He kept glancing back over his shoulder, eyes troubled.

Obi-Wan set a gentle hand on his son's shoulder.

"I know you're worried for your mother. But have faith, my boy. She is resourceful and strong in the Force. No harm will come to her, that much I am certain of"

Solan bit his lip but nodded, some of the tension easing from his slender frame.

They continued on in silence through the maze of corridors that made up the Jedi Temple as they entered into parts that Solan had never been to before. Up a turbolift into one of the rising towers that often houses masters. Solan seemed deep in thought, though Obi-Wan could sense his curiosity about visiting his father's living space for the first time.

When they arrived at Obi-Wan's modest quarters, the door opened with the same mechanical hiss as all others did.

"Come in, make yourself at home."

Solan stepped cautiously into the inviting space, his gaze wandering over the sparse yet cozy furnishings. The room exuded warmth, with soft lighting casting gentle shadows across the walls adorned with rows of holobooks. Among the few artifacts carefully displayed were a couple of holocrons, their ancient wisdom quietly beckoning from their resting places.

"I know it's not much to look at, but I hope you'll be comfortable here," Obi-Wan said, suddenly self-conscious about his humble abode.

Solan set his bag down and turned to Obi-Wan with a shy smile. "It's nice. Thank you, Father."

Obi-Wan's heart swelled. Perhaps this arrangement would be good for both of them, a chance to truly get to know one another.

"You're quite welcome, my son."

Twelve

---

Hopefully, the length of this chapter makes up for my lack of posting on this story! What do you guys think? Do we have more answers or only more questions??? Well, hopefully, I'm over this writer's slump and I hope you guys enjoyed the latest chapter installment of my story. If you liked it then feel free to reblog and give me a comment on what your thoughts are, you guys make my day with your hilarious tags! Here's hoping Cressida's dream (at least the good part of it) turns to reality sooner rather than later! If you'd like to join my small but lovely taglist reblog or leave me a fun comment and let me know what you thought of it!

And for all of you who liked my Padawan one-shot Obi-Wan/reader insert/Master/Padawan story I am currently working on a second chapter! So stay tuned! Alright! Enough pandering, back to work, these stories don't write themselves!

@burnthecheshirewitch. @heyhawtdawgs. @pickleprickle. @split-spectrum(I know I've never tagged you in this story before but I thought you'd appreciate the Obi-Cress fluff in the beginning!) @bad4amficideasYo asked to be tagged in future Obi-Wan works and this is a longer story but I thought I'd throw it out there anyway and if it's not your thing no hard feelings at all and I will be posting a second chapter to Padawan soon! Gotta sere that smut nice and hot! ;)

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castielli · 2 years

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How to request:

Send your request featuring the character you want, the plot (+ANGST, FLUFF…) and anything I need to know about the reader.

MASTERLISTS:

MOVIES/TV SHOWS

KDRAMA/KPOP

OCs PROFILE:

@nathan-ocs

Fandoms I write for under the cut!

——————————————

NCIS

Timothy McGee

Jimmy Palmer

Nicholas Torres

CRIMINAL MINDS

Spencer Reid

Penelope Garcia (platonic🫶)

Luke Alvez

CALL OF DUTY (MW/WWII)

John Price

Soap MacTavish

Ghost Riley

Gaz Garrick

Alex Keller

Alejandro Vargas

Phillip Graves

Vladimir Makarov

Rudy Parra

Red Daniels

William Pierson

Joseph Turner

Robert Zussman

Frank Aiello

Drew Stiles

SHAMELESS

Ian Gallagher

Carl Gallagher

Lip Gallagher

Mickey Milkovich

Kevin Ball

THE WALKING DEAD (+TELLTALE GAME)

Rick Grimes

Daryl Dixon

Glenn Rhee

Negan Smith

Shane Walsh

Lee Everett

Kenny

Doug

Mark

STRANGER THINGS

Steve Harrington

Billy Hargrove

Robin Buckley (platonic)

Eddie Munson

Jim Hopper

Jonathan Byers

Peter/001

Jason Carver

Dimitri

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY (I still need to finish the last season😊)

Viktor Hargreeves

Klaus Hargreeves

Diego Hargreeves

Number Five

Luther Hargreeves

Ben Hargreeves

SUPERNATURAL

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Castiel

Crowley

Bobby (platonic)

Chuck

NOW YOU SEE ME

Jack Wilder

J. Daniel Atlas

Merritt McKinney

Dylan Rhodes

Chase McKinney

MARVEL (Avengers/X-men)

Wanda Maximoff

Tony Stark

Bruce Banner

Thor Odinson

Loki Laufeyson

Steve Rogers

Stephen Strange

Peter Parker (Tom/Andrew/Tobey)

Clint Barton

Deadpool

Bucky Barnes

Sam Wilson

Peter Quill

Quentin Beck/Mysterio

Eddie Brock/Venom

Druig

Ikaris

Charles Xavier

Erik Lehnsherr

Peter Maximoff

Wolverine

Scott Summers

Hank McCoy

Bobby Drake

Alex Summers

Phil Coulson

Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockey

Scott Lang

Pietro Maximoff

Mobius M. Mobius

Matt Murdock

Shang-chi

STAR WARS

Anakin Skywalker

Luke Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Kylo Ren

Poe Dameron

Finn

TEEN WOLF

Stiles Stilinski

Scott McCall

Derek Hale

Isaac Lahey

Jackson Whittemore

Peter Hale

Theo Raeken

Liam Dunbar

Jordan Parrish

Mason Hewitt

Danny Mahealani

Aiden Steiner

Ethan Steiner

Corey Bryant

THE BOYS IN THE BAND

Bernard

Harold

Hank

Donald

Cowboy

Alan McCarthy

Michael

Larry

Emory

WHITE COLLAR

Neal Caffrey

Peter Burke

Mozzie (platonic)

Clinton Jones

DIVERGENT

Peter

Caleb Prior

Four

HARRY POTTER

Neville Longbottom

Sirius Black

Cedric Diggory

Seamus Finnigan

Viktor Krum

Remus Lupin

Draco Malfoy

Tom Riddle

Charlie Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Percy Weasley

Ron Weasley

Oliver Wood

FANTASTIC BEASTS AND WHERE TO FIND THEM

Gellert Grindelwald (Mads Mikkelsen)

Newt Scamander

Credence Barebone

Theseus Scamander

Albus Dumbledore (Jude Law)

HUNGER GAMES

Peeta Mellark

Coriolanus Snow

Sejanus Plinth

MAZE RUNNER

Newt

Thomas

Gally

Minho

911 (and LONE STAR)

Evan Buckley (Buck)

Howie Han (Chimney)

Bobby Nash

Eddie Diaz

TK Strand

Carlos Reyes

Paul Strickland

Owen Strand

Jud Ryder

Mateo Chavez

RIVERDALE

Jughead Jones

FP Jones

Archie Andrews

Hiram Lodge

Sweet Pea

Fangs

Kevin Keller

Reggie Mantle

Chic

Moose Mason

BROOKLYN99

Jake Peralta

Terry Jeffords

All the others (platonic only)

CHRISTIAN BALE

Patrick Bateman (American Psycho)

Bruce Wayne (Batman)

PEDRO PASCAL

Joel Miller (TLOU)

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

Javi Gutierrez (The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent)

Javier Peña (Narcos)

Oberyn Martell (Game of Thrones)

Agent Whiskey (Kingsman)

Silva (Strange Way of Life)

Francisco Morales (Triple Frontier)

Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)

Dieter Bravo (The Bubble)

DETROIT BECOME HUMAN

Connor

RK900

Hank

Markus

Luther

Simon

Gavin

Josh

BARBIE

Ken (Ryan)

Ken (Simu)

Allan

SHERLOCK

Sherlock Holmes

John Watson

Jim Moriarty

Mycroft Holmes

FNAF (movie)

Mike Schmidt

Steve Raglan

SUITS

Harvey Specter

Mike Ross

LA CASA DE PAPEL

El Profesor

Berlín

Palermo

Denver

Río

I WON’T WRITE:

-Smut (for anyone)

-R*pe

-Female readers/GN readers

-Suic*de

-inc*st

-Crossdressing

-Romantic/Suggestive stories for underage characters (only platonic, basically)

If the character you wanted to request is not on the list, you can try and ask me anyways.

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band--psycho · 1 year

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Fic Rec (Feb 2023)

I haven't done one of these for a while; so I thought it was about time I did one!

And I've just hit 3.4k followers, so I thought this was an apt way to celebrate this milestone, by celebrating some of the amazing stories I've read in the last few months!

Thank you to all of my followers and thank you to everyone who takes the time to read/comment/reblog my stories, it means so much to me! 💛

Mayans Mc:

Angel Reyes:

Angel Reyes x Reader by @darklydeliciousdesires

Angel Reyes x Reader-Vigilante Shit (Masterlist)by @withmyteeth

Coco Cruz

Coco Cruz x Reader- Secrets In Charming Town by @jvalentinesworld-cokes-hyna

Sons Of Anarchy:

Jax Teller:

Jax Teller x Reader by @twistnet

Jax Teller x Reader-Riding With Angels by @garbinge

Happy Lowman:

Happy Lowman x Reader-Broken Promises by @purplerain85

Chibs Telford :

Chibs Telford x Reader by @marvelous-slut

Chibs Telford x Reader-Boys Will Be Boys by @somethinginthewayiam

Chibs Telford x Reader by @imaginealotofthings

Marvel:

Bucky Barnes:

Bucky Barnes x Reader-Lost Song Of Love by @writercole

Bucky Barnes x Reader-Taxi by @onceuponastory

Marauders

Sirius Black:

Sirius Black x Reader-Guess Who? by @xacatalepsyx

James Potter:

James Potter x Reader by @letterstotheflre

James Potter x Reader by @luveline

James Potter x Reader-Thistle (Masterlist) by @thyme-in-a-bubble

Remus Lupin :

Remus Lupin x Reader by @sp1rit-realm

Remus Lupin x Reader- Battle Of The Valentines by @remusmirrorball

Remus Lupin x Reader-Carpet Burn by @forourmoons

Remus Lupin x Reader-Valentine Moon by @the-lemon-boy

Remus Lupin x Reader-The Kiss by @ro-is-struggling

Remus Lupin x Reader-Enchanted by @midniteluv

Regulus Black :

Regulus Black x Reader-I Found Stars In Hell by @coffeeaddictednymph

Harry Potter Era

Remus Lupin:

Remus Lupin x Reader-Amortentia by @lupinmoonlight

Fred Weasley:

Fred Weasley x Reader-On Edge by @spacerosesss

Fred Weasley x Reader-Get Away by @aramynx

Fred Weasley x Reader-Put Your Head On My Shoulder by @masivechaos

Fred Weasley x Reader-Dreams And Promises by @writing-fanics

Arcane

Vander:

Vander x Reader by @justabigass-simp

Vander x Reader-Dominant Vander Headcanons by @angelltheninth

Vander x Reader-The Least Sane Moments by @k1nky-fool

Vander x Reader-Better Left Said by @conretewings

Vander x Reader-Cleaning With Vander by @barbersjoy

Other:

Arcane x Reader-Home by @the-rabbit-hole-era

The Walking Dead

Negan:

Negan x Reader-You Don't Own Me by @negansluvr

Negan x Reader-The Queen For A King by @queenvidal

Negan x Reader-A Christmas Exchange (Masterlist) by @naughtyneganjdm

Rick Grimes:

Rick Grimes x Reader-We've Got Shit To Do by @zombiewhor3

Other

Wednesday Addams x Reader-A Good Day For Death by @anonymousewrites

Thomas Shelby x Reader- Dear Thomas...by @dandelionprints

Obi Wan Kenobi x Reader-Across Galaxies by @frost-queen

Harvey Specter x Reader-His Princess / A Goddess's Body by @snax-writes

Steve Harrington x Reader-Found You by @scarisd3ad

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader by @iliveiloveiwrite

The Company(The Hobbit) x Ace!Reader by @hr-nm-grnd-zr

Shouta Aizawa x Reader-Inspiration by @xacatalepsyx

#fic rec #fic rec 2023 #feb fic rec

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star-wars-writing · 4 months

Text

A Journey Beyond Duty

A/N: hey guys, this is the tenth @codywanbingo story with the prompt: Bandaging wounds, hope you like it.

The night on the remote planet of Rylath was a cloak of obscurity, enveloping Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody as they navigated the rugged terrain towards the enemy base. Their mission: a covert operation to gather crucial intelligence, potentially turning the tide in a crucial sector of the galaxy.

Silhouetted against the moons' pale light, the two figures moved with a stealth and precision born of countless missions together. Obi-Wan, his robes blending into the darkness, kept his senses attuned to the Force, while Cody, in his distinctive orange-marked armor, scanned their surroundings with a soldier's keen eye.

"This feels too quiet," Cody murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as they approached the base's perimeter. The structure loomed ahead, a dark monolith against the starlit sky.

Obi-Wan nodded slightly. "I sense it too. Stay alert. The Force is... uneasy."

Their conversation continued in hushed tones, the bond of mutual respect and understanding evident in their exchange. "Do you think we'll find what we're looking for?" Cody asked, his gaze fixed on the compound's entry point they were steadily approaching.

"The intel was reliable," Obi-Wan replied, his hand resting on the hilt of his lightsaber. "But the truth is often buried deeper than spies can see."

Cody chuckled softly. "Always with the wisdom, General. Makes me glad I don't have to do the thinking."

Obi-Wan's response was a wry smile. "And I'm glad I don't have to do the shooting, Commander."

As they reached the outer walls, Obi-Wan's hand gestured for a pause. "We'll split up. I'll disable the power generator; you infiltrate the main control room. We meet at the extraction point in one hour."

Cody nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the plan. "And if things go south?"

"Then we adapt," Obi-Wan replied, the Jedi's calm assurance a stark contrast to the uncertainty of the mission.

They parted ways, each slipping into the shadows like specters of the night. Cody moved with the disciplined grace of a seasoned soldier, his every step measured and silent. He navigated through the base's exterior, using his intimate knowledge of military layouts to avoid patrols and surveillance.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan, guided by the Force, traversed a different path. He moved with an ethereal presence, his connection to the living energy field guiding him through the darkest corners and tightest spaces. His objective lay at the heart of the compound, a nexus of power that, if disabled, would cripple the enemy's defenses.

As they delved deeper into enemy territory, the bond between the Jedi Master and the Clone Commander, though unspoken, was a thread of strength and trust. They were two parts of a whole, each playing their role in a dance as old as the Clone Wars themselves.

"Remember, General," Cody's voice crackled over the comlink, a hint of jest in his tone, "no unnecessary heroics."

Obi-Wan's chuckle was a soft sound in the quiet of the night. "You know me, Cody. I always follow the plan."

"But sometimes the plan follows you," Cody retorted, a smile evident in his voice.

The banter, light and familiar, was a brief respite from the gravity of their mission. It was a reminder of the countless days and nights they had spent fighting side by side, a testament to the bond forged in the fires of war and solidified in moments of quiet understanding.

As they closed in on their respective targets, the stillness of the night was a stark contrast to the storm that lay ahead. For Obi-Wan and Cody, the mission was more than a duty; it was a testament to their unyielding commitment to a cause greater than themselves, a cause that had brought them together and molded their destinies in ways neither could have foreseen.

In the shadows of the enemy base, with the fate of galaxies hanging in the balance, the Jedi Master and the Clone Commander moved forward, each step a silent vow to see the mission through, together.

The corridors of the enemy base were a labyrinth of uncertainty, each turn a potential trap, every shadow a hiding place for danger. Obi-Wan Kenobi, moving with the silent grace of a Jedi, felt the Force pulsing around him, a warning of impending peril. Beside him, Commander Cody, his posture rigid with alertness, advanced with a soldier's precision. Their eyes spoke a shared language of vigilance, forged in the crucible of countless battles.

As they rounded a corner, the tranquility of their stealth mission shattered. Blaster bolts streaked through the air, a sudden storm of lethal intent. The ambush was swift, the enemy hidden in the recesses of the dark corridor. Obi-Wan's lightsaber came to life, a brilliant blue arc cutting through the darkness, deflecting the deadly barrage with deft movements. His mind, attuned to the Force, was calm amidst the chaos, a tranquil center in a maelstrom of violence.

Cody, with a warrior's instinct, returned fire, his blaster a steady drumbeat against the enemy's onslaught. His movements were fluid yet controlled, every shot a calculated decision. In his mind, there was no fear, only the focus of a soldier fulfilling his duty. Yet, beneath that veneer of discipline, a current of concern for his companion, his general, flowed strong and unyielding.

The enemy, unseen, was relentless. A sudden burst of blaster fire, more intense than the rest, erupted towards them. Obi-Wan, engaged with deflecting the continuous stream, did not see the bolt aimed directly at him. Cody, with a split-second decision borne of instinct and an unspoken bond, acted. He lunged towards Obi-Wan, a shield of flesh and armor, his body colliding with the Jedi's just as the bolt struck.

Pain exploded through Cody's body, a white-hot inferno that seared through his senses. He crumpled to the ground, his armor scorched, the smell of burnt metal filling the air. The world around him spun into a blur, the sounds of battle a distant echo in his ears.

Obi-Wan, now on the ground beside Cody, felt a surge of shock and fear, emotions he had long learned to control but now bubbled to the surface. His hands moved to Cody's wound, the Force flowing from his fingertips in an attempt to stem the tide of injury. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts - concern for Cody, the mission, the war. But above all, there was an overwhelming sense of gratitude mixed with a deep, aching sorrow for the sacrifice made.

"Cody!" Obi-Wan's voice was strained, a rare crack in the composed façade of the Jedi. "Hold on, Commander."

Cody's eyes met Obi-Wan's, a flicker of pain and resolve within their depths. "Had to... save you, General," he managed to gasp, his voice a rasping shadow of its usual firmness. In that gaze, Obi-Wan saw not just a soldier following orders, but a man acting on a bond deeper than any protocol could dictate.

Around them, the battle faded to a secondary concern, the urgency of the situation narrowing their world to this single moment of shared vulnerability. Obi-Wan's focus was entirely on Cody, his mind racing for solutions, his heart heavy with the weight of a friendship that had grown beyond the confines of commander and Jedi.

As allies arrived to secure the area, Obi-Wan remained steadfast by Cody's side, his determination to save him as unyielding as the Force itself.

In the hushed aftermath of the skirmish, as the blaster fire ceased and the echoes died away, the urgency of the moment transformed into a somber stillness. The soldiers who arrived moved with efficiency, yet their eyes couldn't help but linger on the scene before them - a Jedi Master cradling his injured commander, a tableau of sacrifice and unspoken bonds.

In the dim light of the corridor, illuminated only by the fading glow of Obi-Wan's lightsaber, the reality of the situation settled like a heavy cloak. Cody's breathing was shallow, his face etched with pain, but his eyes held a steadfast determination, reflective of a spirit that refused to yield even in the face of dire injury.

"Stay with me, Cody," Obi-Wan urged, his voice a low murmur, blending with the distant sounds of the base now alert to the intrusion. His hands, still channeling the healing energy of the Force, were steady, but his eyes betrayed a turmoil of emotions - respect, concern, and an unspoken fear of loss.

Cody's response was a faint nod, his usual firm voice reduced to a whisper. "Wouldn't... leave you, General. Not... yet." The hint of his characteristic resolve, even in his weakened state, was a testament to the bond they shared, one forged not just in the heat of battle but in the countless moments of trust and mutual reliance.

Obi-Wan's gaze lingered on Cody, reading the unspoken language of his commander's eyes - a language that spoke of battles fought together, of a camaraderie that had transcended the usual bounds of general and soldier. In those eyes, Obi-Wan saw not just the duty and loyalty that defined Cody but also a glimpse of the individuality that lay beneath the surface of the cloned soldier, a uniqueness that Obi-Wan had come to recognize and respect.

In the aftermath of the ambush, as Obi-Wan Kenobi deftly maneuvered through the enemy-infested corridors, he bore the weight of Commander Cody with a resolve that defied his calm demeanor. The Force guided him, a silent ally in the shadows, leading them to a secluded hideout – a forgotten chamber, a relic of peace in a war-torn world.

The hideout, a small, nondescript room, was bathed in the dim glow of a flickering light, casting long shadows that danced upon the walls. Gently, Obi-Wan laid Cody down, his movements a meticulous blend of Jedi precision and heartfelt concern. The commander’s armor, marred by the violence of the blast, was a stark testament to the sacrifice he had made.

As Obi-Wan carefully removed the damaged armor, his touch was reverent, each movement acknowledging the price of the loyalty Cody had shown. Beneath the armor, the wound was grievous, a jarring contrast to the commander’s unyielding spirit.

"You shouldn't have..." Obi-Wan began, his voice laced with a mix of gratitude and a deep-seated guilt.

Cody, his face etched with pain but eyes alight with an unwavering resolve, managed a weak smile. "Had to, General. You'd have done the same."

Their exchange was cut short by the arrival of two familiar figures – Waxer and Boil, Cody's trusted comrades. The two clones entered the hideout with a sense of urgency, their expressions a mix of concern and relief at finding their commander and general safe.

Waxer, his armor smeared with the remnants of battle, approached with a brisk efficiency. "We've secured the area, General," he reported, his voice steady yet betraying an underlying worry for his superior.

Boil, standing close to Cody, surveyed the injury with a soldier's pragmatism. "We need to get him back to the medbay," he stated, his gaze flickering to Obi-Wan for confirmation.

Obi-Wan, while continuing to tend to Cody's wounds, nodded in agreement. His hands, guided by the Force, moved with a healer's grace, but the presence of Waxer and Boil brought a new dynamic to the room. It was a reminder of the bond shared not just between general and commander, but among the men who served under them, a brotherhood forged in the crucible of war.

As Waxer and Boil assisted, their actions were respectful, their demeanor reflecting the depth of their respect for both Cody and Obi-Wan. They moved with a quiet efficiency, aiding Obi-Wan in stabilizing Cody's condition, their presence a silent support in the tense atmosphere.

The room, once a place of solitude, now resonated with the unspoken camaraderie of soldiers. The stark walls echoed with the low murmurs of concern, the shared glances of understanding. In this secluded space, the complexities of rank and duty gave way to the more profound ties of loyalty and shared humanity.

In the subdued light, as Obi-Wan worked to save Cody, the bond between them was palpable, a silent testament to a relationship that transcended the usual confines of command. Around them, Waxer and Boil stood vigilant, their presence a quiet reassurance of the unbreakable bond that united them, a bond that would endure through the trials of war and beyond.

In the dim seclusion of a forgotten chamber deep within the enemy base, Obi-Wan Kenobi knelt beside Commander Cody, whose form lay still amidst the chaos of war. The room, lit only by the flickering light of a small, battered lamp, cast long, wavering shadows across their faces, painting a picture of solemnity and urgency.

Obi-Wan's hands, guided by years of Jedi training and a deep-seated care, worked meticulously to bandage the wounds that marred Cody's body. Each wrap of the bandage was a testament to the bond they shared, a bond that had grown beyond the confines of duty and rank. The fabric was gently, yet firmly applied, a barrier against the harsh reality of war.

"Cody, stay with me," Obi-Wan urged, his voice a soft command tinged with concern. The Force flowed through him, a soothing presence that he channeled towards the injured commander, his fingers hovering over the wounds as he sought to mend what had been broken.

Cody, his face etched with pain, managed a weak smirk. "Didn't take you for a medic, General," he rasped, the attempt at humor a stark contrast to the gravity of his injuries.

Obi-Wan offered a small, wistful smile in return. "There are many roles one must play in war. This is one I wish I didn't have to." His eyes, usually a well of calm and wisdom, now flickered with a complex mix of emotions - fear, guilt, and a deep, unspoken affection.

As he continued the delicate task of bandaging, a silence settled between them, filled with words unspoken, emotions unexpressed. The air was thick with the weight of things left unsaid, a shared history that spanned the tumult of the Clone Wars.

"Remember that time on Tibrin?" Cody broke the silence, his voice a mere whisper. "When you talked us out of a full-scale assault. I never said it, but... I admired your courage that day."

Obi-Wan paused, his actions momentarily still. "It was your strategy that made it possible, Cody. You always had a way of seeing things clearly in battle."

A moment passed, laden with memories and unvoiced thoughts. "We've been through a lot, haven't we, General?" Cody's words were laced with a nostalgia that went beyond the camaraderie of soldiers.

"We have, Commander," Obi-Wan acknowledged, his voice low and reflective. "And through it all, your loyalty, your strength... it's been a constant I've come to rely on."

Cody's gaze met Obi-Wan's, a silent communication passing between them. In those eyes, Obi-Wan saw the unwavering spirit of the commander, but also the vulnerability of the man beneath the armor. "I've always trusted you, Obi-Wan. With my life... and more."

Obi-Wan's response was a soft sigh, a sound that carried the weight of their unspoken bond. "And I, you, Cody. In ways I never expected." The Force around them seemed to hum with a resonance that spoke of deep connections, of bonds forged not only in the heat of battle but in the quiet moments of trust and understanding.

As Obi-Wan resumed the force healing, his touch gentle yet firm, the room seemed to shrink around them, becoming a world unto itself. Here, in this hidden corner of the galaxy, the lines between general and commander, friend and love interest, blurred into a singular truth - a bond unbreakable, a loyalty unyielding, a love unspoken but deeply felt.

In the soft glow of the hideout, illuminated by the lamp's wavering light, the bond between them was palpable, a tangible force as real as the energy that Obi-Wan channeled through his hands. The Force seemed to wrap around them, a cocoon of energy that bridged the gap between healer and wounded, between a Jedi Master and his trusted Commander.

Cody's breathing steadied under Obi-Wan's ministrations, the pain in his eyes softening. "I never thought I'd be at the receiving end of Jedi healing," he said, his voice gaining strength. "Feels strange... not unpleasant, just strange."

Obi-Wan chuckled softly, the sound echoing softly in the compact room. "I assure you, it's not a common occurrence. But then, our partnership has always been anything but common."

The air between them was charged with an unspoken acknowledgment of the depth of their relationship. It was a bond that had evolved, shaped by the fires of battle, by shared laughter and silent understandings, by moments of desperation and acts of bravery.

Cody, meeting Obi-Wan's gaze, found a depth of emotion there that he had only glimpsed in fleeting moments before. "We've always been a good team, haven't we, General? In more ways than one."

"Yes, Cody, we have," Obi-Wan agreed, his voice laced with a warmth that went beyond mere camaraderie. "In all the chaos of this war, our friendship... it's been my anchor. You've been my anchor."

A silence fell between them, a comfortable hush that spoke volumes. In the confines of the hideout, away from the prying eyes of the galaxy, they allowed themselves a moment of vulnerability, a shared understanding of the emotions that lay beneath the surface of their bond.

As Obi-Wan continued his healing work, his focus never wavered from Cody, each touch a silent promise, a vow of protection and loyalty. The Force flowed between them, a bridge of energy and emotion, healing not just physical wounds, but touching the unspoken scars of battles past, of a war that demanded so much from them both.

The room, with its plain walls and simple light, became a sanctuary, a haven where general and commander, Jedi and clone, could simply be Obi-Wan and Cody, two souls intertwined by fate and choice, their bond a testament to the enduring power of trust, loyalty, and an unacknowledged love that had quietly defined them both.

****

As Waxer and Boil disappeared, their footsteps fading into the distance, the hideout's silence deepened, enveloping Obi-Wan and Cody in a bubble of stillness. Cody, propped against a cold, unadorned wall, watched Obi-Wan with an intensity that spoke of years of camaraderie and battles shared. The room, with its sparse furnishings and dim light, seemed to contract, becoming an intimate space for reflection and revelation.

Obi-Wan, sitting across from Cody, his posture relaxed yet alert, met his gaze. The air between them was charged with an unspoken understanding, a readiness to traverse territories of conversation they had seldom explored.

"The war has taken much from us, Cody," Obi-Wan began, his voice soft, introspective. "I find myself wondering... about the cost. The personal sacrifices."

Cody's response was thoughtful, his voice tinged with a weariness born of endless battles. "We've all lost something, General. Friends, time, parts of ourselves." He paused, his gaze distant. "Sometimes, I wonder who I'd be without this war."

Obi-Wan nodded, his expression somber. "The path of a Jedi is not easy, nor is the path of a soldier. We give up parts of ourselves for a cause we believe in. But lately, I've been questioning the cost of such sacrifices."

Cody, shifting slightly to ease his discomfort, regarded Obi-Wan with a newfound curiosity. "You're talking about the Jedi code, aren't you? The part about attachments."

"Yes," Obi-Wan admitted, a rare openness in his demeanor. "The code teaches us to let go of attachments, to maintain our focus on the greater good. But in doing so, I wonder if we lose sight of... something equally important."

The conversation hung in the air, a delicate balance between doctrine and emotion. Cody, his expression thoughtful, broke the silence. "We clones, we were made to fight, to follow orders. But along the way, we form bonds, attachments. It's what makes us more than just soldiers. Maybe... it's not so different for Jedi."

Obi-Wan's eyes held a depth of emotion, a turmoil of thoughts and feelings. "Perhaps you're right, Cody. In this war, I've formed bonds that I... that I cannot deny. Bonds that have given me strength, even as they challenge the principles I've lived by."

Cody's gaze was steady, a mirror to Obi-Wan's conflict. "And is that such a bad thing, General? To find strength in others?"

Obi-Wan's response was a soft sigh, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of galaxies. "No, it's not a bad thing. In fact, it might be what makes us truly strong. The ability to connect, to care... it's a powerful thing."

Their conversation drifted then, to shared memories, to battles fought and won, to moments of quiet amidst the storm of war. They spoke of fallen comrades, of victories tinged with sorrow, of the heavy burden of command. And through it all, there was an undercurrent of something deeper, a connection that had grown beyond the bounds of general and commander.

In the quiet of the hideout, as they delved into the complexities of duty and emotion, Obi-Wan and Cody discovered a new understanding of each

other, a shared vulnerability that transcended the roles they played in the grand theatre of war. Cody, his voice growing stronger with each word, spoke of moments that had defined him, of decisions made in the heat of battle that lingered in his thoughts.

"It's the choices we make, isn't it, General?" Cody mused, his eyes reflecting the dim light of the room. "Choices that define us, more than the battles we fight."

Obi-Wan nodded, his gaze introspective. "Yes, it's our choices. And I've been wondering about the choices I've made, in light of the Jedi teachings. The code is clear, but life... life is complex. It's not always black and white."

Cody, sensing the depth of Obi-Wan's internal struggle, leaned forward slightly. "You've always made the right choices, General. Even when they weren't easy. That's what sets you apart."

Obi-Wan's smile was tinged with sadness. "I've tried to do what's right, but I can't help but question... What if the right choice isn't always in line with the code? What if the right choice is about the people we care for, the attachments we form?"

The air around them seemed to thicken with unspoken truths, with emotions held back for too long. Obi-Wan, always the picture of Jedi serenity, now appeared human, vulnerable. His eyes, usually so clear and focused, now swam with doubts and unspoken yearnings.

Cody watched him, a mix of respect and concern etched on his features. "Maybe it's about finding a balance, General. Maybe it's about understanding that our attachments, our emotions... they're a part of who we are. They don't weaken us; they make us whole."

Obi-Wan's gaze lingered on Cody, seeing not just the soldier, but the man he had come to know, to rely on, to... care for, in ways the Jedi code had never prepared him for. "You may be right, Cody. Perhaps it's about finding that balance. And maybe, it's about accepting that some attachments... they're worth the risk."

Their conversation slowed, the words dwindling as their thoughts turned inward, each man reflecting on the journey that had brought them to this moment. The room, once a mere hideout, had become a sanctuary where they could lay bare their souls, where rank and duty gave way to honesty and understanding.

In the shared silence, a bond was solidified, a bond born of war but deepened by mutual respect and an unspoken affection. It was a bond that defied the rules of the Jedi, that transcended the expectations of a soldier. It was a bond that spoke of a shared humanity, of a connection that was as profound as it was forbidden.

In the dim light of the hideout, Obi-Wan and Cody found a moment of peace, a respite from the war that raged outside. It was a moment of clarity, a realization that amidst the chaos of the galaxy, they had found in each other an anchor, a source of strength and, perhaps, a glimpse of what it meant to be truly human.

****

As the hours passed in the seclusion of their makeshift sanctuary, a subtle change began to manifest in Cody's condition. The air in the room grew heavy, charged with an unspoken tension as Obi-Wan, with a healer's intuition, noticed the subtle signs of worsening. Cody's skin, usually the picture of clone-bred resilience, had taken on a pallor, and his breathing, once steady in its rhythm, now came in shallow, labored gasps.

Obi-Wan's brow furrowed in concern, his hands hovering above the bandaged wound, the Force flowing through him in a focused stream. "Cody, stay with me," he urged, his voice a blend of command and concern. The infection was spreading, a silent enemy as dangerous as any they had faced on the battlefield.

Cody, his eyes clouded with pain, met Obi-Wan's gaze. "I'm not... going anywhere, General," he rasped, a weak attempt at his usual humor. But the gravity of the situation lay unmasked in his eyes, a flicker of fear that he had always been trained to suppress.

Obi-Wan, sensing the urgency of the moment, deepened his connection to the Force. He closed his eyes, reaching out to the living energy around them, calling upon it with a sense of desperation he seldom allowed himself to feel. The air in the room seemed to thrum with power, the Force responding to his call, a tide of healing energy at his command.

Cody watched, a mix of awe and pain etching his features. The sight of Obi-Wan, a Jedi Master in his element, was both inspiring and humbling. "You're... something else, Obi-Wan," he murmured, the words a whisper of admiration.

Obi-Wan's focus was unwavering, but at Cody's words, a soft smile touched his lips. "We're in this together, Cody. I won't let you face this alone." His words were more than a reassurance; they were a vow, a promise born of the bond they shared.

The energy in the room peaked, a crescendo of unseen power, and Cody felt a warmth spreading through him, a counter to the chill of the infection. It was as if Obi-Wan's will alone was battling the invasion in his body, fighting for his life with a determination that mirrored the battles they had fought side by side.

As the Force flowed, a connection deepened between them, a bridge of energy and emotion that transcended the physical realm. In that moment, their mutual feelings, long unacknowledged, surfaced with a clarity that was both startling and inevitable.

"Cody," Obi-Wan said, his voice a soft murmur amidst the hum of the Force, "you've always been more than just a commander to me. You've been a friend, a confidant... someone I..."

Cody, feeling the strength returning to his body, reached out, his hand finding Obi-Wan's. "I know, Obi-Wan. I've felt it too. There's something between us... more than duty, more than war."

Their eyes locked, and in that gaze, a multitude of unspoken words passed between them. It was a recognition of the depth of their bond, a realization of the feelings that had grown amidst the chaos of their lives. In the silence, a truth was acknowledged, a truth as profound as it was forbidden.

In the small, dimly lit hideout, as the Force ebbed around them, Obi-Wan and Cody found themselves at a crossroads. Their connection, strengthened in the face of adversity, had blossomed into something neither could deny. It was a bond forged in the heart of war, yet transcending it, a testament to the enduring power of human connection, of love in the midst of chaos. In that moment, as Cody's condition stabilized under Obi-Wan's unwavering care, they faced a new reality, one where their relationship had evolved into something more profound, something irrevocably changed.

***

As the profound moment of shared acknowledgment between Obi-Wan and Cody hung in the air, a sudden shift occurred. Cody's eyes, which had held a spark of something beyond pain and camaraderie, began to glaze over, his grip on Obi-Wan's hand weakening. The strength that had momentarily returned to his face seemed to ebb away, leaving behind a pallor of exhaustion and pain.

"Cody!" Obi-Wan's voice was tinged with alarm. The Jedi Master leaned in closer, his senses heightened as he reached out with the Force, trying to tether Cody to consciousness. "Stay with me, Commander. Stay with me."

But Cody's response was a mere murmur, his words slurring as he slipped into unconsciousness. Obi-Wan's heart raced, a surge of fear washing over him. He had faced countless dangers, but the sight of Cody, slipping away before his eyes, struck a chord of panic within him.

Outside their makeshift sanctuary, Waxer and Boil patrolled the perimeter with a vigilance born of necessity. The tension was palpable, the air thick with the unspoken fear for their commander's life. They communicated in short, clipped sentences, their focus unwavering.

"Anything?" Boil's voice was a low growl, his eyes scanning the darkened corridors.

"Nothing yet," Waxer replied, his blaster held ready. "But they'll come. They have to."

Back inside the room, Obi-Wan was a picture of focused desperation. His hands hovered over Cody, the Force flowing through him in waves, but the effort seemed to drain more of his own strength than it aided Cody. "Don't do this, Cody," he whispered, his voice a mix of command and plea. "You've fought too hard to let go now."

The stillness of the hideout was suddenly shattered by the sound of approaching footsteps - heavy, hurried, the rhythm of soldiers on a mission. Obi-Wan's head snapped up, alert and ready for whatever came through the door.

It burst open, revealing the familiar forms of the 212th Battalion. Leading them was Boil, his expression a mix of relief and urgency. "General Kenobi, we've found you. Medics are on the way."

Following closely was a trooper Obi-Wan recognized immediately - Bones, one of Cody's most trusted men. His demeanor was one of controlled panic as he pushed his way through to his commander's side. "Commander Cody!" he called out, dropping to his knees beside him.

Obi-Wan moved aside, giving Bones space but never taking his eyes off Cody. "He's in and out of consciousness. I've done what I can, but he needs proper medical attention."

Bones's hands were already on Cody, checking his vitals, his movements efficient yet filled with a palpable concern. "Hang in there, sir. We're going to get you out of here."

The room was now a flurry of activity, the 212th Battalion moving with precision and urgency. Medics rushed in, their kits open and ready, as they began administering aid to Cody. Obi-Wan stood back, his gaze never leaving Cody's still form, his heart heavy with worry and unspoken fears.

Waxer stepped up beside Obi-Wan, his voice low. "We'll get him out, General. He's tough, he'll pull through."

Obi-Wan nodded, his expression a mask of controlled emotion. "Yes, he will. He must." His words were more than a statement; they were a vow, a silent promise to the man who had become more than a comrade, more than a friend.

As the medics worked, Obi-Wan's thoughts were a tumult of emotions - fear, hope, and a realization of the depth of his feelings for Cody. The connection they shared had been acknowledged, but the future remained uncertain, hinged on the fragile thread of Cody's life.

In the dim light of the hideout, amidst the chaos and concern, a bond had been solidified, a bond that had transcended the boundaries of duty and rank. Now,

as Cody lay unconscious, that bond faced its greatest test. Obi-Wan stood, a silent sentinel, his presence a quiet strength amidst the bustle of activity.

Boil, watching the medics work, turned to Obi-Wan. "He's a fighter, General. Always has been."

Obi-Wan's response was a nod, his eyes never leaving Cody. "He's more than that. He's... essential." The word carried a weight, a depth of meaning that went beyond the battlefield, beyond the war.

The medics worked with a swift efficiency, their hands moving in a blur of activity. Intravenous lines were set, vital signs monitored, and every possible measure taken to stabilize Cody. The air was thick with tension, each second stretching into an eternity.

Bones, still kneeling beside Cody, looked up at Obi-Wan, his eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. "He's in good hands, General. We'll get him back to the medbay as soon as we can."

As the stretcher was prepared, Obi-Wan stepped forward, his hand resting briefly on Cody's. It was a gesture of reassurance, a silent message of hope. Cody, though unconscious, seemed to respond, a faint movement of his head, a subtle sign that he was still fighting.

Waxer approached Obi-Wan, his expression solemn. "We should move, General. We've secured a path, but we need to leave now."

Obi-Wan nodded, tearing his gaze away from Cody with visible effort. As the stretcher was lifted, he moved alongside it, his role as a Jedi Master momentarily taking a back seat to his role as Cody's unwavering protector.

The journey back to the medbay was a blur, the corridors and passages of the base melding into one. Obi-Wan's thoughts were a whirlwind, his mind replaying the moments in the hideout, the words spoken and unspoken, the depth of emotion that had been revealed.

As they emerged into the brighter lights of the medbay, Obi-Wan felt a shift in the Force, a subtle stirring that spoke of hope. He stood by Cody's side, watching as the medics transferred him to a proper medical bed, their movements now even more urgent.

Bones, standing beside Obi-Wan, placed a hand on his shoulder. "He'll make it, General. He's got the best care, and he's got something else - something not all of us have."

Obi-Wan turned to him, a question in his eyes.

"He's got something worth fighting for. Something... or someone." Bones's gaze was knowing, a recognition of the bond that existed between Obi-Wan and Cody, a bond that had become the heart of their will to survive.

As the steady hum of medical machinery filled the space, Obi-Wan Kenobi sat by Cody's bedside, his posture one of silent vigilance. The medbay, a stark contrast to the chaos of the battlefield, was a sanctuary of sorts, its sterile calm a balm to the tumultuous emotions that swirled within him.

Cody lay still, his breathing assisted by the medical apparatus, the rise and fall of his chest a visual rhythm that Obi-Wan clung to. In the quiet of the medbay, Obi-Wan took Cody's hand, holding it gently but firmly, a physical connection that seemed to bridge the gap between consciousness and unconsciousness.

As he sat there, Obi-Wan's mind was a whirlpool of thoughts and emotions. The Force flowed around him, a comforting presence, yet his focus remained intently on the man before him. Cody, his stalwart commander, his unwavering comrade, and now, something more. The realization of their bond, brought to light in the crucible of their ordeal, hung heavily in the air, a truth both undeniable and unexplored.

Around them, the members of the 212th Battalion moved with quiet efficiency, their respect for both their general and commander evident in their hushed tones and solemn expressions. It was clear to Obi-Wan that the men were more aware of the depth of the bond between him and Cody than he had initially realized. Their discreet glances, the unspoken understanding in their nods, all pointed to a recognition of something beyond mere camaraderie.

Obi-Wan, feeling the weight of their silent acknowledgment, knew that there was no use in hiding what had developed between him and Cody. The 212th, his and Cody's men, had seen them through countless battles, had been part of their journey every step of the way. Trusting them to keep this unspoken secret seemed a natural extension of the bond they all shared.

"General Kenobi," a soft voice spoke, breaking the silence. Waxer stood a respectful distance away, his helmet under his arm. "The men... we all know how much Commander Cody means to you. To us. And we respect that, more than you might realize."

Obi-Wan looked up, meeting Waxer's gaze. The understanding and loyalty in the soldier's eyes were clear. "Thank you, Waxer. Your discretion... it means a great deal."

Waxer nodded, a gesture of both respect and reassurance. "We're a family, sir. And in families, we look out for each other. Always."

As Waxer left, Obi-Wan turned his attention back to Cody. The Force seemed to thrum around them, a silent witness to the bond they shared. In the stillness, Obi-Wan allowed himself a moment of reflection. The path ahead was uncertain, fraught with challenges both personal and professional. But in that uncertainty, there was also a sense of hope, a belief that whatever the future held, they would face it together.

Sitting there, holding Cody's hand, Obi-Wan felt a profound sense of connection, not just to the man beside him, but to the men and women he led. The 212th Battalion was more than just a military unit; they were a family, bound by loyalty, respect, and a shared journey through the fires of war. In them, Obi-Wan saw the reflection of the bond he shared with Cody - a bond of trust, understanding, and an unspoken love that transcended the confines of their roles.

As the hours passed, Obi-Wan remained by Cody's side, a silent guardian waiting for the moment his friend would awaken. In the quiet of the medbay, surrounded by the soft sounds of life-saving machines and the occasional murmur of the 212th, Obi-Wan Kenobi sat, a Jedi Master, a general, but

above all, a man deeply connected to another soul. The rhythm of the machinery, the soft beeps and whirs, became a backdrop to his contemplation, his thoughts drifting between the past and an uncertain future.

Every so often, a medic would come to check on Cody, their movements professional yet tinged with an unspoken empathy. They understood the gravity of what lay before them, the life of a commander who was more than just a leader to his men. Obi-Wan would watch them, gratitude mingling with his concern, a silent prayer in his heart with each assessment they made.

As the night deepened, the quiet conversations of the 212th outside the medbay became a testament to their unity and strength. They spoke in subdued tones, not just about strategies and missions, but about their commander, about Obi-Wan, about the bond that everyone seemed to have sensed long before it was acknowledged. Their words were careful, respectful, a reflection of their loyalty not just to their duty, but to the individuals who led them.

In these moments, Obi-Wan realized the depth of the trust he had placed in his men, and how profoundly they had returned it. They were his soldiers, yes, but also his protectors in a way, guardians of a secret that had the power to alter the course of their lives.

Turning his attention back to Cody, Obi-Wan's thoughts were introspective. The man lying unconscious before him, connected to machines that were his lifeline, had become an integral part of his life. The realization of their mutual feelings, brought to the surface under dire circumstances, now seemed like a truth that had always existed, waiting for the right moment to be acknowledged.

Cody, even in unconsciousness, seemed to be fighting, his spirit a tangible presence in the room. Obi-Wan could feel it, a determination that resonated with his own. He squeezed Cody's hand slightly, a silent message of support, a promise that he was not alone in this fight.

As the night turned into the early hours of the morning, Obi-Wan remained a constant presence by Cody's side, his vigil uninterrupted. He knew the road ahead would be challenging, filled with questions and choices. But in that medbay, with the quiet support of his men surrounding them, Obi-Wan felt a sense of resolve solidify within him.

He knew that when Cody awoke, they would face these challenges together, with the same courage and determination that had defined their battles. For now, Obi-Wan waited, a guardian of the quiet, steady heartbeat that promised a future filled with possibilities, a future where their bond could grow and evolve, unshackled by the constraints of convention and duty. In the soft glow of the medbay, amidst the sounds of life-preserving technology, Obi-Wan Kenobi held Cody's hand, a symbol of a bond unbroken, a love unspoken, yet stronger than anything the galaxy could throw at them.

****

The first artificial light of dawn began to seep through the small windows of the medbay, casting a gentle glow over the room. Obi-Wan, still seated beside Cody's bed, had remained vigilant throughout the night, his eyes often fixed on the commander's face, searching for any sign of consciousness.

It was in these early hours, as the medbay was bathed in the soft light of dawn, that Cody's eyes fluttered open. For a moment, he seemed disoriented, his gaze unfocused as he tried to piece together his surroundings. Then, his eyes settled on Obi-Wan, a flicker of recognition lighting them up.

"Obi-Wan?" Cody's voice was weak, but there was an unmistakable strength behind it, a testament to his resilience.

Obi-Wan leaned in, a wave of relief washing over him. "Yes, Cody, I'm here. You're safe now."

Cody took a moment to gather his thoughts, his gaze wandering around the room before settling back on Obi-Wan. "I remember... the ambush. You were there. You saved me."

Obi-Wan's hand tightened around Cody's. "We saved each other. It's what we do." His voice was soft but carried an undercurrent of emotion that went beyond the confines of their roles as general and commander.

A silence fell between them, filled with unspoken words and emotions. Cody broke the silence, his voice a mere whisper. "Obi-Wan, in the hideout... we talked. About us."

Obi-Wan nodded, his gaze never leaving Cody's. "Yes, we did. And it's time we faced what that conversation truly meant."

Cody's eyes searched Obi-Wan's, finding not just the Jedi Master, but the man behind the title. "Life's short in this war," he said, a newfound clarity in his voice. "Whatever happiness we can find... we should cherish it. Not deny it because of rules and conventions."

Obi-Wan's expression softened, the Jedi serenity giving way to a more human vulnerability. "I agree. For too long, I've let the Jedi Code dictate my life, but being here with you, facing the possibility of losing you... it's made me realize that there's more to life than rules and duty."

The medbay, with its soft morning light and the quiet hum of machinery, became a cocoon for their conversation, a private space where they could explore the depth of their bond.

"We don't know what the future holds, Cody," Obi-Wan continued, his voice tinged with a mix of hope and uncertainty. "But I do know that I no longer want to face it without acknowledging what's between us."

Cody, his strength returning, squeezed Obi-Wan's hand. "Neither do I, Obi-Wan. We've been through too much to ignore this... whatever this is between us."

Their conversation was a dance of words and emotions, a delicate exploration of feelings long suppressed and possibilities newly awakened. It was a conversation punctuated by pauses, by glances that spoke volumes, by touches that conveyed more than words ever could.

As the medbay came to life with the morning shift, the world outside their conversation began to intrude, but the moment they had shared, the acknowledgment of their bond, remained a beacon of light in their lives.

In the days that followed, as Cody's recovery progressed, their relationship evolved, no longer just commander and general, but something more profound, more personal. They faced the challenges of war together, but now with a newfound strength drawn from the acknowledgment of their bond, a bond that had become their anchor in the tumultuous sea of the galaxy at war.

In the midst of chaos, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody had found a sliver of happiness, a connection that defied convention, a love that transcended the boundaries of their roles. It was a love born from war but destined to endure beyond it, a testament to the enduring power of the human heart in the face of adversity.

As they navigated their new reality, there was an unspoken agreement between them. They would cherish each moment, each shared glance, each quiet conversation. The war raged on around them, but within the walls of the medbay, and later, in the brief moments they stole away from their duties, they found solace in each other's presence.

In the eyes of the 212th Battalion, there was a newfound respect and understanding. The men seemed to intuitively grasp the change in their leaders, treating it with a discreet reverence. It was as if they recognized the importance of what Obi-Wan and Cody had found in each other, a rare glimpse of joy in a world overshadowed by war.

Cody's recovery was marked not just by the healing of his physical wounds, but by the strengthening of the bond he shared with Obi-Wan. They were careful, aware of the need for discretion, but the trust they had in their men, and the men's trust in them, formed a protective circle around their relationship.

The conversations they shared in the quiet of the night were filled with plans for the future, with the acknowledgement of the uncertainties that lay ahead, but also with the certainty of their feelings for each other. They spoke of battles fought and challenges overcome, and of the hope that, when the war was finally over, they might explore a life together beyond the confines of their duties.

In those conversations, Obi-Wan found a peace he had never known, a sense of completion that he had never thought possible. Cody, in turn, found a sense of belonging, a connection that went beyond any programming or training. Together, they faced each day with a renewed sense of purpose, bolstered by the knowledge that they were no longer alone.

The war continued, as wars do, but in the midst of it all, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody had discovered a rare and precious thing – a love that had blossomed in the unlikeliest of places, a light that shone brightly in the darkness, a testament to the enduring resilience of the human spirit.

Any feedback or thoughts are greatly appreciated. May the Force be with you!

#obi wan kenobi #commander cody #codywanbingo #commander cody fanfiction #obi wan kenobi x commander cody #obi wan fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #codywan #clone trooper waxer #clone trooper boil #star wars fandom

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The Clone Wars: Unfinished Business

The 4th and final part of the Clone Wars Bad Batch arc with my OC: Specter! If you've stuck around this far, dear reader, thank you so much for taking an interest in Specter. Her story has just begun and I will be posting the first episode of The Bad Batch: Specter next Friday (5/10/24). As for the format of this episode; since the original went back and forth between Anakin's team and Obi-wan/Mace's teams, this will remain with Anakin and the Bad Batch, just to keep continuity towards Specter's perspective. this has been edited. Enjoy!

Specter finished adjusting her hair just as Crosshair and Hunter arrived with the rest of their gear. Wrecker hung out near her while Tech made a final inspection of the Marauder before their next mission.

Echo apparently had a plan to help the Republic take back Anaxes; while Generals Windu and Kenobi had the ground, the Bad Batch, Rex, General Skywalker, and Echo would infiltrate Admiral Trench’s dreadnought and counteract their attack patterns. She couldn’t care less about the specifics, as long as it would lead to a Republic victory.

“Tech, is everything ready?” Hunter asked.

“Yup, Sarge. We are ready. Still not sure how we’re gonna land on that ship.”

“Don’t worry. Echo says he’s got a plan,” Rex assured, coming up behind Tech.

“That makes me feel so much better,” Tech replied flatly with a shake of his head.

“What do you mean by that?”

“To be blunt—”

“He’s always blunt,” Specter said as she passed by. Tech sighed and continued.

“His mind belonged to the Separatists until we unplugged him. We don’t really know where his loyalties lie,” he admitted, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“Right.. Well, I do know. Now, get moving,” Rex said gruffly.

Once everyone was on the ship, they took off, veering away from the Republic fleet heading towards planet-side battle and up to the Admiral’s dreadnought.

“Please tell me we are blowing something up,” Wrecker hoped with almost child-like anticipation.

“Sorry, Wrecker, once again, this is strictly stealth,” said General Skywalker.

“I hate that word,” the brute groaned in complaint.

“I don’t,” Specter said with a smirk.

“Well, of course you wouldn’t. Your name is Specter.”

“Both of you, focus, please,” Anakin chided before turning. “Echo, you’re up.” The clone nodded and went toward the console.

“Don’t worry. As soon as I plug in, I’ll send a signal to the command ship.” He plugged his scomp-arm into the port.

“What type of signal are you gonna send? Nothing that’ll give us away, right?” Hunter eyed Echo cautiously. The entire Bad Batch was uneasy about the situation: the situation being Echo. Specter couldn’t help but agree with what Tech had said earlier, worried the Separatists could easily turn Echo against them, or somehow find out their plan of attack.

“As far as the droids are concerned, we’re just gonna be another one of their shuttles coming in for a landing,” Echo explained.

“And the regs think we take risks,” Hunter mumbled just loud enough for Specter to hear. She chuckled, playfully elbowing him in the ribs with a smirk.

“Sending the signal now.”

The team waited in silence, hoping the plan would work.

“Roger, roger, Shuttle TC-159. You may approach and land,” a battle droid said through the radio. Specter let out an audible sigh of relief.

“I’d still rather blow it up,” Wrecker grumbled as they approached and landed on the underbelly of the massive ship.

“I have a feeling you’ll get your chance, given our track record,” Specter muttered.

“Shall we bet on it?” Tech asked from the pilot’s chair. She snickered.

“Let’s not bet on the chances of a certainty.”

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

The team landed aboard the dreadnought undetected. So far, the coast was clear as the Bad Batch, General Skywalker, Rex, and Echo snuck through the corridors of the ship and towards the comm vault.

Specter led the group, occasionally signaling for the team to proceed. Her pistol was raised and ready for any potential scuffle.

They reached the vault. Specter held up a fist, the group paused before she scanned the area and indicated the coast was clear, letting Tech come forward and use his datapad to open the vault. He followed the General, Captain, and Echo inside while the others stood guard.

It was all up to Echo now.

Skywalker reappeared a minute later, the rest of the team gathered around.

“Alright, Echo will be in the system in just a moment. Are there any other entrances to the vault?”

“Not that we’ve seen, but we could always do a quick sweep,” said Hunter. “You, me, and Wrecker can double-check the perimeter. Twins? You two keep an eye on things in this immediate area, but stay off comms. If we end up detected, it’ll be best to give you more time. If none of us find anything, we’ll rendezvous back here,” Hunter ordered. They nodded and split, sans Specter and Crosshair. The former of the two slouched against a wall and sighed dramatically.

[I’m bored], she signed with her hands, exaggerating the slouch in her shoulders and letting her head fall back against the wall.

[We just got here], he replied, frustratedly signing, Specter could tell he wasn’t in the mood for her antics, which gave her all the more reason to continue.

[But we’re just keeping guard and I'm not detecting any activity in this area.]

[Would you rather be in there?] he nodded towards the inner chamber. Specter sighed, contemplating. [Do you trust him?]

[No], that answer was easy. [But we’ll see how he pulls through. I think he can tell we don’t exactly like him.]

[I'm not a fan of ghosts], Crosshair shrugged as he signed. Specter’s shoulders bounced in silent laughter.

[I’ll try not to be offended.]

[I’m not a fan of you either], he teased.

[I'll never forgive you now.] He made the motion of swiping at her, shaking his head. [I really wonder if the Separatists could take control of him again], she signed, keeping an eye on the room.

[Anything is possible], he shrugged.

“What are you two talking about?” Hunter asked, reappearing with Wrecker and Skywalker.

“Nothing,” they simultaneously said, crossing their arms.

“Oh yeah? Then what’s Echo’s status?” Hunter waited for an answer, they said nothing, only sheepishly hanging their heads and taking arms once more. Wrecker laughed, taking a position by the main entrance, while Hunter shook his head and took off his helmet, moving to stand by the door with Skywalker.

“I’m intercepting a transmission,” Tech said from the inner chamber, catching the group’s attention. “Trench is ordering all of his droids… to the assembly complex.”

The same one Generals Kenobi and Windu were attempting to take back. Specter gripped her rifle a little tighter, craning her neck to peer inside.

“Alright, Echo, what are you trying to pull?” Hunter accused, stepping towards the clone.

“Don’t worry, that’s what I told them to do,” Echo assured, seeming all too confident in his risky move. His tone made Specter uneasy.

“That’s making me worry more,” Specter chimed in. Crosshair shot her a look and she shrugged.

“Our troops will be vastly outnumbered,” said Rex, seeming to doubt his friend for a moment.

“Not when I send them a feedback pulse that shuts down all the droids,” countered Echo.

“Oh, right. Sure thing. Problem solved,” Specter remarked sarcastically.

“How do we know that’s what you’re really trying to do?” Tech questioned.

“We have to trust him,” Rex said after a beat of silence.

“Rex is right,” Skywalker affirmed. “Echo, we’re all counting on you.” The clone nodded and went to work. Hunter motioned for Specter to stand down, but still shared a wary glance with her and Tech. Crosshair went to stand by his twin—who had rested her rifle against the wall—watching as Skywalker reported to the planet-side Generals.

“Master Windu, I know this sounds crazy, but it’s about to get a little more crowded where you are.” Crosshair looked at her, she held up a hand for him to wait and hear.

“We have our hands full as it is. What is your plan?” Windu replied.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, it isn’t my plan. Echo is drawing all the droids to your position so he can neutralize them all at the same time,” he explained.

[Is he really?] He signed

[I can’t say. Best we can do is trust him and wait], she replied. [I don’t like it either.]

So they waited with baited breath, either for the clone forces on Anaxes to be overwhelmed, or for Echo to come through and shut down all the droids. Hunter and Skywalker exited the room, allowing Echo to finish the job. Specter anxiously and instinctively brought a hand up to chew on her nails, but forced it back down, not wanting to take off her helmet or seem unprofessional. Several minutes later, General Windu came through the comm.

“I am pleased to report that we are in control of the assembly complex, and all of the fronts are falling to the Republic thanks to Echo’s plan,” he said. Skywalker smiled, nodding toward Hunter and the twins before turning back inside.

“That’s good news, Master Windu. We’re on our way back to the base.”

“May the Force be with you.”

[And also with you], Crosshair signed. Specter choked back a laugh and smacked his arm.

It worked, she thought to herself with a sigh of relief. While she still didn’t exactly trust Echo, she would consider him off of her radar of suspicion.

“Good job, Echo,” Skywalker complimented.

“Well, I guess you actually are on our side,” said Hunter.

“Was there ever any doubt?” Echo gave a playful salute and smile.

Hunter looked as if he might say something before Tech interjected, “Some,” blunt as usual.

“I second that,” Specter called into the room. Rex chuckled and waved his arm as if dismissing her.

“Come on, brother, unplug and let’s get out of here.”

[Happy now, Specter?]

[Yes, finally], she signed with relaxed hands. She picked up her rifle and walked with him further down the corridor, closer to Wrecker, ready to escape the dreadnought, until Echo called for them to-

“Wait, I just scanned a new order from Trench. He’s initiated a countdown. There’s a bomb hidden at the assembly complex, but it’s big enough to destroy most of Anaxes.”

“Can you stop it?” Skywalker asked.

“Well, I can try,” answered Echo, though he didn’t sound too certain. Skywalker seemed to have an idea and wasted no time running down the hall.

“General, where are you going?” Rex called after him.

“If you can’t stop the detonation, perhaps Trench can!”

“Detonation?” Wrecker enthusiastically wondered allowed after the Jedi had run past.

“Against the Republic,” the twins replied, shutting down his excitement.

“So we have to hope Echo can shut it down?”

“Yes.”

“Would you two stop saying things at the same time? It creeps me out!” Wrecker cried.

“No.”

“Awwww, c’mon it's weird!”

At that moment, a metal clanging down the hall caught their attention; Crosshair peered around the corner, pulling back just as a blaster bolt flew past his head.

Trench knew they were there.

Without another word, the three took positions and fired back, though they didn’t make much of a dent in the oncoming forces.

Hunter eventually caught up with them, Tech, Rex, and a barely conscious Echo trailed behind.

“We got company!” Wrecker shouted, charging forward to assist Crosshair and Specter in their coverfire. “What happened to him?” he nodded towards Echo.

“Electrical feedback overloaded his systems,” Tech answered. “Sabotage from Admiral Trench.”

“Great,” muttered Crosshair.

“Hey, we’re almost through!”

“Don’t jinx it, Wrecker,” Specter warned as she switched from her rifle for her shotgun. Taking center stage, she fired a few shots at the droids, bright bursts of plasma knocked the enemy back and gave Wrecker and Crosshair enough cover to shoot them down and clear the way.

“Now, let’s get moving before another wave comes,” Hunter ordered with a nod.

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

Wrecker, Crosshair, and Specter cleared the way ahead while Hunter and Tech provided cover from droids approaching from behind. The unit created a protective circle around Rex, who had Echo slung over his shoulder.

“We can’t blast our way out. There’s too many of them,” Rex said, placing down Echo when another wave of droids appeared in their path. Without another word, Wrecker handed Hunter his blaster and cracked his knuckles, Hunter aimed down each end of the hall.

“Oh, here we go,” Specter caught sight of Wrecker punching his fists together and running into the line of fire.

“What’s he doing?” Rex asked.

“Time to release the wrecking ball!” he shouted, charging at the droids. He barreled through them, punching and throwing them down, clearing their path.

“I honestly feel bad for those droids,” Hunter mentioned as the team crouched down, waiting for the assault to finish.

“You don’t feel bad when he crashes into me during training,” Specter accused.

“I think you turned out fine.”

Wrecker made his way through the last of the droids, pounding the last one’s head.

“It’s all clear!” he shouted, waving. The group got up, ready to move out.

“More droids,” Tech noticed them approaching down the other end of the hall.

“Go. I’ll buy you some time,” Crosshair said, moving in front of Tech. He threw a reflective puck at the small group; it stuck to a droid and he shot it down. Firing again, the blaster bolt bounced off the reflective surface, hitting all the droids.

“We’ll meet you at the infiltration point,” Rex said as the group vacated the area.

“Hey, if you die, can I have your stuff?” Specter asked before she left. Crosshair looked at her, his silence an indication of his deadpan expression underneath his helmet. She giggled and ran off.

“Oh! He’s gonna try and top me,” Wrecker complained as Hunter gave him back his blaster. “You watch.”

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

The group made it to the infiltration point, but Tech turned back towards the halls.

“I’m picking up dozens of droids on my sensors, all heading this way,” he announced.

“Hope you’re not waiting on me,” a voice said. It was Anakin, running down the hall to meet them.

“Now all we’re missing is Crosshair,” Hunter reported.

“Speaking of,” Specter said, noticing as he sprinted, leaving behind a trail of more reflective pucks on the walls.

“You miss me?” he asked once he met up with the group. A big group of droids were right behind him.

Who wouldn’t miss your ever dramatic charm? Specter thought with a scoff.

“How touching,” he drawled, using the platform on his shoulder-piece to stabilize his rifle. He fired, hitting the last reflective puck, and the blast ricocheted down the hall, hitting every droid as it bounced from puck to puck.

“He thinks he’s so cool when he does that,” Specter muttered, walking off with her rifle slung over her shoulder. Wrecker lifted up his helmet, gaping at the damage.

“Relax, Wrecker. You’ll top him next time,” Hunter comforted.

“No he won’t,” the sniper chimed in, following the group. The brute pouted.

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

They made a quick escape, everyone piling into the ship as Tech detached from the underbelly of the dreadnought and flew away.

“I’ve got a present for you, Wrecker,” Anakin said, holding up a detonator for the clone.

“Oh, seriously?” he said excitedly. “I get to blow it up? The whole stinking thing?” Wrecker grabbed the detonator and almost cradled it in his hands. He wiped away a tear. “This is the happiest day of my life,” he said between sniffles. He pressed the button.

Specter watched as explosions erupted a second later, destroying the dreadnought and the surrounding ships, from her spot near the rear cannon, smiling at the damage done.

Mission accomplished.

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

“Captain Rex, Corporal Echo, and Clone Force 99,” General Windu said as they all stood at attention, “you all have done a great service for the Republic. Thanks to your courage and effort, Republic shipyards will soon be up and running again.” The Jedi walked away with a respectful nod.

“You’ve got some medals coming your way,” General Kenobi said with a smile before following Windu.

“Thank you, General,” Rex said. He and Echo went to walk, but Echo noticed the Bad Batch did not go to follow.

“You coming?” he asked.

“Not really our thing,” Tech admitted.

“Accolades,” Crosshair hissed.

“Yeah, we’re just in it for the thrill. Yo!” Wrecker said with enthusiasm, pumping his fist.

“We know we’re good, we don’t need a medal to tell us so,” Specter said with a smirk and a hand on her hip.

“You sure it’s your thing?” Hunter asked Echo.

“What do you mean?”

“Your path is different,” he explained before giving a deep huff of a chuckle, “like ours. If you ever feel like you don’t fit in with them, well, find us.” Echo watched as Hunter nodded his group back to their ship. Rex came up to his friend.

“Those are some of the finest troopers I’ve ever fought alongside.” The captain put a hand on Echo’s shoulder, drawing his attention. “Echo. You and I go way back. If you feel that’s where you feel your place is, then that’s where you belong,” Rex encouraged, patting his shoulder and turning to go. Echo looked toward the Batch again.

As Rex walked he knew Echo wouldn’t stay; he turned and saw him talking with the group. Echo turned back to Rex and saluted, leading the rest of the Bad Batch to stand at attention and salute too. Echo was one of them now.

And that's the end of the Clone Wars Bad Batch arc! I hope you enjoyed that! Stay tuned for next week!

#Star wars #Star wars oc #the Bad batch #the Bad batch hunter #tbb hunter x oc #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #clone force 99 #the clone wars #the Bad batch oc #tbb oc #sw tbb #sw tcw #f!oc

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