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Chapter Text

Coruscant

22 BBY

"–you really think this will turn to a war?" Chancellor Palpatine asks, worry etched over his face. 

Leading a tense discussion with select representations of the Jedi Council in his office, the Chancellor is directing the question to Master Yoda.

The Jedi Master closes his eyes in return, trying to reach out into the one place he knows will hold the answers. 

For a moment everyone is silent, watching as the old Master's ear twitches minutely, lost in thought.

"Worse than war, I fear." He finally croaks after a while. "Much worse."

The Force, as Yoda had just seen, is clouded in darkness. The once bright existence is now murky, and it feels like the light has been shadowed by a dark curtain. His connection to the Force is suffering as well, seemingly slipping from his fingertips. 

The future, he won't be able to tell clearly anymore. A war may as well be coming.

On the other hand, Obi-Wan Kenobi's arrival in Coruscant is accompanied by a whirlwind of emotions. There is the anxious excitement (courtesy of Anakin) and there's also this curious feeling of something that just doesn't sit right in his heart.

The border dispute on Ansion had been messy and refused to be simple. 

Turns out that the famed title Negotiator doesn't impact quite the same when you have an anxious 19 years old fidgeting behind you. Anakin has somehow gotten his hand on the news of Senator Amidala's visit to Coruscant and decided to freak out in advance. It would be amusing if Obi-Wan didn't have his hands full of sensitive negotiations left and right, barely keeping the peace by a ridiculously thin thread.

"Quit worrying, Anakin." He chides at last, watching the turbolift climb steadily in the Senate building. Anakin's presence in the Force is distracting, to say the least. It almost feels like he is bouncing from side to side, burning a figurative hole in the Force with his worry.

Obi-Wan feels a sense of pity for the teenager, raising an eyebrow. “You haven’t been this nervous since we fell into that nest of gundarks.” He remarks.

Predictably, Anakin quips back an old rehearsed argument, “You fell into that gundark nest, Master. I rescued you, remember?” 

Of course he does, but his distraction is proven to be successful with the way Anakin is finally losing the tension on his shoulders. Their eyes meet, and Obi-Wan can’t hold back a laugh at that ridiculous incident. 

It is a much needed laugh, especially as the protection details on Padme Amidala almost dangerously turns into a failure. The assassin is dead, but the mastermind behind it isn’t.

It comes as no surprise that the Council delegates them for new assignments. Obi-Wan is to find the one responsible for the assassination, and Anakin will be the one accompanying Padme back to Naboo. 

Quite suddenly, the weird feeling in his gut starts to make sense. 

"May the Force be with you, Anakin."

In retrospect, Obi-Wan Kenobi would say that this was another milestone in Anakin’s life. His young Padawan going on his first unaccompanied mission. What a time! 

"Yes, Master." Anakin answers with an eye roll, being dramatic in the way that only teenagers can pull off.

"Don't do anything that I wouldn't do." He warns, hoping that it translates to staying peaceful and sticking to negotiation as much as possible. 

Anakin's answer is much more indulgent this time. "Yes, Master." He says, not without a cheeky smile. 

Obi-Wan shakes his head at his antique, turning to face Senator Amidala. "Have a safe journey, Senator. I'll be sure to find out the perpetrator."

"I'll be most grateful for your speed, Master Jedi." She smiles and Obi-Wan is reminded, once again, that she is one of the most ambitious politicians out there; she is apparently very eager to get back into the political scene despite being the target of an assassination just a couple of days ago.

Obi-Wan bows in lieu of an answer, watching Anakin stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the Senator, the boy smiling happily as they step off together. 

Honestly, Obi-Wan thinks. Sometimes the Galaxy thinks itself so funny to be giving him this mission that he had explicitly forbid before, the one that Anakin had recklessly promised to Padme. It's not like Anakin wouldn't take the first opportunity to find the culprit himself, Obi-Wan knows. But Anakin would rather be with Padme and protect her safely to Naboo. For now, at least. 

Obi-Wan had seen what the assassin was capable of. He is not taking any chances by roping Anakin into the hunt.

Besides, they have Artoo to chaperone for them. Hopefully, the boy wouldn't wreck any havoc by the time they've arrived on Naboo… 

With that doubtful thought on his mind, Obi-Wan steers himself towards Dex's diner. 

He has a question and Dex usually has answers. 

All the roads eventually lead to Tipoca City on the planet Kamino, where Obi-Wan's life will never be the same.

"The products are one of our finest creations, I'll say. I do hope they will please you, Master Jedi."

A part of Obi-Wan is appalled by the Kaminoans' love for the term 'products', and the other is frankly amazed at their blatant disregard for ethics as they cloned millions of humans, just for the sole purpose of going to war.

The objective to find Padme’s assassin moves into the backseat as Obi-Wan tries to sort his thoughts on the situation, surrounded by the overwhelming life force of the clones.

From this height, Obi-Wan can’t clearly see their faces, though they are familiar somehow. Dark skin and medium built, all similar and yet so different from one another. It reflects in the Force, where each and every one of them is their own life form, so distinct and so unique. So human.

They are not products, Obi-Wan thinks fiercely in his head. But he smiles and agrees to Taun We's offer on meeting the donor. The template, she says. A time will come when he will be going over Master Sifo-Dyas' contract on creating the clones and disassembling them word-by-words. He shudders to think about the fate of the clones that have been deemed as 'defective'. What would the Kaminoans do to them? Dispose them away like a failed product? 

Patience, he reminds himself.

Taun We continues with her explanations on the clone’s hatcheries. “This is the most crucial phase. Though we are expecting a survival rate of more than ninety percent. Of course, you’ll see that they are completely obedient from the genetic modification. Make them less independent than their original host you see.” She pleasantly informs.

Now it is Obi-Wan’s turn to ask. “And who was the original host?”

Without an ounce of hesitation, she answers readily. "A bounty hunter by the name Jango Fett." 

And just like that, all of the clones' faces become crystal clear in Obi-Wan's head. 

'Jango?’ His breath hitches, the Force now feels suffocating with the appearance of so many Jangos– all different and unique in the Force and yet the same. 

The questions are running in his head, going a klick a minute. There is no emotion, there is the Force. There is no emotion, there is the Force. There is no emotion, there is the For–

"Master Jedi?" Taun We stops, her long neck curling to see Obi-Wan better.

Shaken out of his stupor, Obi-Wan realizes he’s been standing aghast at the mention of Jango’s name, with Taun We far ahead of him. "Ah. I see. Where is he now?” He asks with forced ease, the Force still vibrating with… something. But he has to focus right now. 

“Oh, we keep him here. Though I think he’s just coming back from a trip off-planet.” Taun We answers.

“I– I would like to see him, please."

Taun We's big, dull eyes don't reflect any emotions Obi-Wan thought she would, merely blinking with the same sense of eerie calmness the Kaminoans radiate. "Of course. I’d be very happy to arrange it for you."

They continue to walk down the bridge, Obi-Wan both watching and not watching the clones at the same time. It takes an extra amount of effort to tear his mind away from them and to actually listen to what Taun We is saying.

“–paid a lot of money. On top of that, he's asked for a clone, an unaltered one at that."

“Unaltered?” Obi-Wan asks dazedly.

“Yes. An exact replica of himself, no tempering on the gene structure to make him more docile and no growth accelerant. Very curious, isn't it?”

"Yes. Yes, it is." Obi-Wan’s throat is dry from the implication. An exact, 100% replica of Jango himself, without the accelerant that would make him grow naturally… Quite literally a baby. 

Jango is trying to raise one of his clones as his son. 

Kriff, and here Obi-Wan thought the breakup was bad on himself. 

Taun We lead him into a balcony overlooking the clones, suited up with white soldier gear. Army fleets for the Republic, each and every single one of them wearing Jango’s face. Obi-Wan’s heart is beating loudly in his chest, somehow managing to be far louder than the footsteps of the thousands of men below, marching into formation. His breath is coming in short intakes, and Taun We stands next to him, wistfully watching her creation.

“Amazing, aren’t they?” She comments airily, though the Force radiates with amazement and a sense of accomplishment.

Standing there, dripping wet and cold to his bones in the way that doesn’t come from braving the rain, Obi-Wan shivers. The Force is planning something, and they are shifting and changing, the possibilities and opportunities clashing. The future, Obi-Wan knows, is changing at this very moment.

“A war is coming!” the image of the millions of troopers screams. 

“A war is coming…” the Jedi whispers.

“A war is coming, cya’re,” the memory of Jango’s face murmurs.

“...A war is coming.” Obi-Wan mumbles softly. He’s got a terrible feeling about it.

Chapter Text

What Obi-Wan doesn't expect is just how big Jango's son would be. It has been ten years since Master Sifo-Dyas (apparently) commissioned the clone army, yes, he knows that. But to actually see a mini-version of Jango standing right there, so similar and yet so different at the same time… That's a whole decade spent hiding and lying and not even once did Obi-Wan know of their existence. Had the Force really been that clouded? So much so that Obi-Wan can’t even sense that Jango is alive? Or was the Mandalorian so keen on getting away as far as possible from Obi-Wan that he'd managed to escape his notice from the Force? Whatever it was, it worked perfectly. Ten years and he's got Obi-Wan believing that Jango Fett was dead to the galaxy. 

It feels like a stab in his heart to hear Taun We utter the words, "Boba, is your father home? May we see him?"

Father. Jango is a father and has a son named Boba. Boba Fett, Obi-Wan repeats the name in the safety of his mind, feeling the name does something inexplicable to his heart. 

Mandalorians are fond of children, his mind supplies. Jango wanted a family, another whisper echoes in his head. Jango couldn't have a family on his own that he created a clone of himself to be taken as his son. Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad. I know your name as my child. Had Jango said that to Boba? 

“Yep. And sure.”

Drawn back by the boy's voice answering Taun We so casually, Obi-Wan begins to observe him. The child looks so much like Jango, which he should have expected. But it's just so bizarre to actually see it with his own eyes. 

The child is also glaring suspiciously at Obi-Wan with the same intensity that his father had done in the past that makes Obi-Wan's head spin. But Boba eventually allows the two of them to enter the room, which resemble more of an apartment, really, with huge windows overlooking the gray and ever-raining view of Kamino. 

“Dad! Taun We’s here!” Boba calls out as he enters. Obi-Wan distracts himself by scanning the room.

The place is bare, equipped with only modest furniture that doesn’t look very worn out. Does Jango leave Kamino often, then? Obi-Wan wonders. A bounty hunter's work is incredibly dangerous and high risk. Obi-Wan knows that Jango wouldn't take a child with him if he can help it. This may explain Boba's familiarity with the long-necked Kaminoans, then.

There are the odds knick knacks on the shelf, and a half-full caf machine by the pantry. There are two beds on the far side of the room, and what seems to be a 'fresher on the other end. The place wouldn't stand out at all if it wasn’t for the Mandalorian armor stashed in the small walk-in closet near the door. 

Padmé's assassin, a Clawdite that was assuming a woman's form, had been efficiently silenced by a toxic dart that brought Obi-Wan here to Kamino in the first place. It was ruthless and done without any hesitation. No honor among bounty hunters, perhaps. Obi-Wan only managed to get a fleeting look of an armor-clad figure escaping with a rocket. He can’t say for sure whether this is the same armor, but he can’t deny the possibility either. 

As if agreeing with him, the Force starts to stir, wanting Obi-Wan to pay attention to the armor, to give it a closer look. From where he's standing, Obi-Wan can see that they have been used recently. He's still debating on surreptitiously inching closer to inspect them when Taun We opens her mouth. “Welcome back, Jango. Was your trip productive?” She says, snapping Obi-Wan out of his observations. With a rapidly beating heart Obi-Wan follows her voice, landing his eyes on the man coming out of the fresher.  

Jango kriffing Fett is standing right there, walking and breathing and very much not dead. 

Obi-Wan hopes his sharp intake of breath isn't noticeable, but Force knows how surprised he is at seeing the ghost of his lover. 

Former lover, I suppose. His mind adds unhelpfully. 

“Fairly.” Jango replies, eyes glued on Obi-Wan, daring him to say something and Obi-Wan physically can't– his mind reeling with too many questions and not enough answers. Should he begin with asking about the deceptions, or would Jango prefer if they start with the million clones out there? 

"Jango," Taun We's melodic voice lulls. "This is Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi." She introduces, getting comfortable by sliding closer to Boba by the huge windows.

"I'm aware." Jango doesn't elaborate any further. They are not going to talk about the bantha in the room, then. Excellent, Obi-Wan thinks sourly.

Jango's face doesn't quite twitch as they continue to stare at each other, but his emotion in the Force does react slightly. There is barely any sense of surprise from Jango whereas Obi-Wan's own shock is all over the Force. But beyond that, tumultuous emotions are thrumming within Jango, barely kept suppressed under wrap. And if Obi-Wan concentrated harder, he might just be able to feel the guilt wrapping around Jango. Alas, Jango still has an impressive sabbac face (one that Obi-Wan used to be able to read with ease). But now, all Obi-Wan can see is someone who looked like they have gone to hell and back, wearing the scarred face of a man he once knew. 

"Oh?" Taun We's tone is surprised, and the look on Boba's face is even more so. The boy glances between the two men, eyes darting back and forth.

"Shall I leave you two to catch up, then?" Taun We offers, gesturing towards the door.

"No."

The words are tumbling out of his mouth before Obi-Wan can stop it. 

"No, that is not necessary, thankyou." He dips his head in her direction, deliberately missing Jango's expression. A civil conversation is not likely to happen if they were left alone without supervision. At least with Taun We and Boba here to play witness, Obi-Wan can ensure that he and Jango will not start something they'll regret later. Obi-Wan desperately hopes so. 

He can't be having this conversation right now, not when an army of clones are out there and definitely not when the mastermind behind Padme's assassination might be standing right in front of him.

The Council is going to hate me, he laments. 

"Have you been to the inner part of Coruscant recently?" Obi-Wan asks without preamble. A blunt question, sure, but he doesn't quite have the time to skirt around this matter. Jedi duty comes first, as is his principle, and their… relationship and subsequent fallout has to be sorted out later. 

Well, that. If Jango didn't run and disappear again, of course. Although Obi-Wan has to secretly admit that a closure (or an explanation, at the very least) will be very appreciated. It's not everyday that one gets the chance to confront a dead man now, is it?

Jango seems to consider the question, then opens his mouth to say, "Uh, Boba. Rood eht so-heeck,” without even tearing his eyes from Obi-Wan. That’s- What was that? It sounds like Huttese, and Obi-Wan thinks he might have caught “door” but the rest doesn't make much sense. That was definitely a code. Interesting.

Obi-Wan watches the boy move from his place, but Jango steps forward, very obviously shielding Obi-Wan's view from the closet where the armor lies. Obi-Wan doesn't remove his eyes from Jango as the door swishes softly. He saw it already, both the battered armor and helmet. 

They are standing close now, too close to not to be in each other’s space. Obi-Wan can’t stop himself from staring at those captivating eyes, dark and alluring and so cold . There was a time where Obi-Wan won't hesitate to brush his thumb over Jango's cheekbones tenderly, and the other would pull him in by the waist, and they would stand there, watching and staring, thoroughly entranced by each other. 

In the present circumstances though, Obi-Wan can only observe the man before him from this distance. Jango has obtained a new collection of scars during his apparent ‘death’, with more faint lines framing his eyes. 

"Can't say I have." Jango doesn't quite answer. Typical.

Obi-Wan sighs deeply, fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Jango, please." He pleads. "Don't make this anymore harder that it already is."

The two spectators perk up at the use of Jango's name, but they stay quiet. Perhaps Obi-Wan should rethink his decisions on letting them stay… 

As if an internal switch was flicked, Jango's signature in the Force suddenly flares with anger. His cool and discontested gaze turning into a vicious glare. "Yeah? Why don't you just find the answer by yourself then, Jetii?" He sneers, tilting his head in a challenge.

Obi-Wan gapes, snapping his presence close to himself, careful not to brush against Jango's mind. Stars, to even think that Jango would offer himself for a mind probe- as if Obi-Wan was an interrogation droid– Obi-Wan feels sick. 

"You know I would never do that." He can't help but feel the horror slips into his voice at the thought. Does Jango really believe that Obi-Wan would be able to do it? Force his way into Jango's mind without permission? 

"You already know the answer, Obi-Wan. So don't play dumb right now." Jango's tone is clipped as he answers, glare not softening in any way.

Right, then. Jango certainly doesn't want to be interrogated like this, and he's not going to adnit anything regarding the assassination. Obi-Wan needs to approach this from another point..

"When was the last time you saw Master Sifo-Dyas?" He asks instead, trying to shake off the lingering discomfort from his mind.

"Who?" Jango says, his confusion genuine in the Force.

Obi-Wan pauses. "The one who commissioned you." He frowns.

True, in all the years they'd known each other, Jango hasn't been very fond of knowing the other Jedi. Perhaps for the sake of gathering intel, but definitely not for their personality. The only Jedi he seemed to make an effort with was Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon. That wasn't smooth sailing either.

Even Obi-Wan himself has to admit that he’s not in any way familiar with Master Sifo-Dyas. Saw him in passing at the Temple, sure, but it was more of a need to know basis before he disappeared and died.

"I don't know who that is. I was contacted by a man called Tyranus on the moon of Bogden." Jango replies, now the one raising an eyebrow towards Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan blinks. Tyranus? He's never heard that name before. Curious.

Jango doesn’t wait for Obi-Wan to process the information and quips, “Do you like your army, Jedi?”

Now that’s a low blow. Obi-Wan hadn’t even known what he was getting into as he landed on this planet! Getting an entire army of clones instead of uncovering the bounty hunter responsible for Padme’s assassination attempt was definitely not it. 

Obi-Wan grits his teeth, the tell-tale of a headache popping up again. "I'm sure they'll do excellently." He smiles sardonically, all sweet and polite, the same one he reserves for dealing with politicians. 

The corner of Jango's lips quirk at that. “Always a pleasure to meet a Jedi.” His eyes shine as he speaks, halfway between sincere and mocking– or is it a thinly veiled threat? Obi-Wan can’t tell anymore. This meeting is over, but Obi-Wan has a feeling they will meet again soon. Hopefully not too soon, he prays.

Obi-Wan bows slightly. “Thankyou for your time, Jango. Farewell.” He steals one last glance of the child, before walking out and letting the door close on Taun We, two identical sets of eyes following his back. 

Outside, with only a door standing between him and the ghost from his past, Obi-Wan let his body slump down, barely holding himself upright with the Force. The sound of his beating heart echoes loudly under the bright light of the Kamino facility,  and everything feels so surreal, like he was dreaming. A clone army for the Jedi Order, with the infamous bounty hunter Jango Fett as the donor. 

Obi-Wan is half convinced that the Galaxy is playing a twisted joke on him, laughing at his misery.

Why in the Force would Jango even consider saying yes to this? Was it purely because of money? Or was it about the child— a family to call his own? Obi-Wan wonders.

Whatever it was, the Council desperately needs to hear about this. 

Obi-Wan starts towards Arfour in his starfighter, but then a sudden thought strikes him. "Oh, Force." He groans, feeling the tiniest tug inside his mind. "Anakin!" How in the stars would he even begin to explain all of this?

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan met Jango four years prior to meeting Anakin, because that's how his life is categorized now: Before Anakin and After Anakin (and without Master Qui-Gon). 

Consistent with the theme, he met Jango in a less than pleasant situation. It was during the time when Obi-Wan was still a Padawan, not knowing that less than a decade later he would be promoted into Knighthood. Qui-Gonn had received a comm from Master Yoda, requesting a pick-up back to Coruscant. Not for himself, though. Instead, it was for a Force-sensitive foundling, Lo. 

The planet Botor was blazing hot, so hot for his Stewjoni blood that Obi-Wan thought that his face would melt. He was also young and much more naïve than he'd like to think, marveling at the aftermath of the fight Master Yoda had just gone through with a band of nasty Flesh Monger pirates. Not only that, the intel suggested the presence of multiple raiders on the planet that were there for the youngling. The Force-sensitive youngling, that was. Those bands of pirates were wiped clean by Master Yoda, only the burning marks from blaster shots and bodies strewn across the ground were the witness of their failed ambush on the Jedi. 

"Worry not, Child. Safe you will be, with Qui-Gon Jinn." The Grand Master said, leading the youngling towards Qui-Gon. The child went willingly, his small form still trembling from being locked up in a tiny cage for so long. 

Qui-Gon nodded, sending his best non-threatening look to the young one. "Of course, Master Yoda. Happy to help. We were already in the neighborhood after all." He spared a glance to Obi-Wan who, at the time, was too busy admiring Yoda’s handiwork to notice their conversation. "I believe my Padawan is just sorry we missed all the fun." He commented with dry amusement.

"Holy.. Blaster bolts! How did he take out a whole room full of pirates?" Obi-Wan exclaimed from the shed down the valley, a curious hand reaching out to brush the mangled door. It was one thing to rescue a Force-sensitive youngling on this creepy and freakishly hot planet, but another to face off a gang of Flesh Mongers. Alone, at that! Obi-Wan's respect for his Grand Master just grew tenfold.

"Go, I must. Take him to Coruscant, you shall." Yoda instructed, leaning his weight on his trusty cane. His words left no room for argument, even though Obi-Wan could sense his Master's hesitancy at leaving Yoda alone. Which was absurd, Obi-Wan thought, when Yoda just demonstrated his skills by single-handedly destroyed the Flesh Monger's hideout. 

As if sensing the thought, Yoda sighed. "On the way here, a disturbance in the Force, I felt. A calling,” he paused. “Follow it, I must." He insisted. Obi-Wan personally didn’t pick up anything, but he believed Yoda fully. Besides, a Force calling could sometimes become very, very personal and not meant to be understood by many. Sometimes.

"Should we come with you?" Master Qui-Gon offered, though not out of distrust that the Grand Master wouldn’t be able to handle it this time. Obi-Wan perked up at the prospect of following this mission.

Yoda’s ears twitched, and he closed his eyes. He shook his head after a second, leaning again on his cane. "A calling for me, it was. With luck, prove adequate, I will." He hummed in that familiar tone Obi-Wan had heard many times as a youngling.

Qui-Gon too closed his eyes and eventually bowed, "Very well then, Master." He said. 

Obi-Wan stood next to his Master and the youngling, the three of them watching silently at Yoda's retreating back into the deep woods. His small form swallowed by the ominous fog, and the next second he was gone.

"Come along, Padawan." Qui-Gon said after they stood there for another moment. He turned, leading the way to their ship. A long journey to Coruscant was in order.

Safely tucked in the ship they'd brought, the youngling was mutely following Qui-Gon towards the quarter. Well, Obi-Wan's quarters, more like it. They didn't bring a big ship, as they weren't supposed to make a stop here anyway, and only two small quarters were included. Obi-Wan would have to share. 

His Master left immediately to set course to Coruscant, only leaving with a simple command of "Take care of him, Obi-Wan." Simpler said than done, especially as his charge refused to speak. Or maybe he couldn't? Obi-Wan honestly had no clue.

They settled face-to-face in Obi-Wan’s quarter, their quarter now, Obi-Wan thought. The youngling was more busy looking around the ship and Obi-Wan took the time to observe him. "Um, hello?" Obi-Wan said, feeling somewhat awkward around the youngling. 

Big orange eyes blinked in return, not saying anything.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "I'm Padawan learner Obi-Wan Kenobi. What's your name?" He tried.

Again, no answers. 

The youngling didn't seem too keen on communicating, but it was understandable, of course. Remembering the circumstances, Obi-Wan had noticed broken pieces of metal cage strewn in the shed earlier, where the pirates must have had kept the youngling. Luckily for them, Obi-Wan was no stranger to traumatic experiences like that. And, of course, the consequences that followed. 

So Obi-Wan sat down. He closed his eyes and let his mind slip into the Force, feeling his Master's familiar presence on the ship and detecting a new, unfamiliar signature near him. The youngling’s signature was bright, but small. Unsteady and constantly wavering, not uncommon in untrained Force individuals.

Carefully, Obi-Wan opened up his presence. trying to communicate open, bright, and safe through the Force. He slowly moved closer to the other's presence, making sure they knew Obi-Wan was there. Not touching, but sort of like being next to it, radiating calm as he did. 

The little signature suddenly brightened, and Obi-Wan opened his eyes to see the youngling blinking rapidly. Those big eyes turned towards Obi-Wan with a silent question. 

Obi-Wan smiled. "Yes, that's me. I can also use the Force, can you sense it?" 

The youngling nods excitedly as an answer. 

"Great!" Obi-Wan grinned. "You're safe now. And we are going back to the Temple in Coruscant, where you'll learn the way of the Force." He explained.

A soft noise came from the youngling who was swaying slightly in excitement. He was blabbering, but in a more urgent tone.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that?" Obi-Wan asked, frowning and chose to lean closer to hear him better.

Another soft tittering "Ro? Lo? Your name's Lo?" He grinned, watching as Lo nodded, flapping his hands at his side.

"It's very nice to meet you, Lo." Obi-Wan extended a hand. Lo's tiny green hand reached back, hovering near his palm in confusion and Obi-Wan laughed. Lo would grow wonderfully at the creché, he just knew it. 

The lighthearted moment shattered abruptly as something slammed into the ship, the alarm and the Force rang simultaneously. Something hostile was near and it was most definitely coming for them. 

Obi-Wan's feet carried him to the control room without much thought. "Master! What's happening?!" He shouted, couldn’t quite keep the panic out of his voice.

Master Qui-Gon had come out brandishing his lightsaber. "Someone's boarding the ship! Obi-Wan, take the youngling and hide!" He ordered, already turning around and sparing Obi-Wan no glance.

"But, Master–" 

Go!'Qui-Gon urged through their bond, topped with a firm push of the Force that made Obi-Wan stumbled into the corridor. 

Obi-Wan barely caught himself from planting his butt on the floor. And he'd only noticed Lo wobbling behind him, almost bumping into Obi-Wan's leg and fell himself. This time, Obi-Wan didn't hesitate to pull out his own lightsaber and took Lo's hand as they ran.

Ran and ran until they couldn’t, not when a lone figure in full-clad armor with blasters in each hand appeared suddenly on their path, ready to pull the triggers. Scratch that, the stranger was already shooting through their way inside, judging by the ugly marks on the hall.

A Mandalorian! Obi-Wan gasped. He would know the gleam of that armor anywhere– and he also knew far too well how the Mandalorians weren’t at the best terms with the Jedi, to say the least.

The figure flew, quite literally, over their head.

Obi-Wan deflected the shots that came raining on them in succession, shielding Lo the best he could with the restricted space. 

Obi-Wan! His Master’s voice reverberated through their bond in the Force. 

Obi-Wan managed to grunt out a response, as his concentration couldn’t afford to be distracted. A shot came too close to Lo, sending the child whimpering behind Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan cursed silently, as it was getting clear he was going nowhere. The Mandalorian would definitely best him in terms of skills, that much was clear. In any other circumstances, Obi-Wan would probably be able to shake him off of his tail, but he had Lo quite literally hiding behind him. And he could not, would not, let Lo be taken away. Again.

Their attacker was making more progress than Obi-Wan would’ve liked, and he was now backed into a corner with no chance of striking back–lest he wanted to leave Lo defenseless. Another blaster shot came close, and Obi-Wan deflected it just in time to see the Mandalorian gripping his vambrace.

The Force cried out urgently, and the back of Obi-Wan’s neck stood up in anticipation. “Get down!” He managed to say before crouching down, turning his back ever so slightly and pushed with the Force. 

A good move, honestly, as fire roared out of the Mandalorian’s vambrace. The Force push lengthened their distance quite a bit, but enough that Obi-Wan only did not come in full contact with the flame.

This is bad, bad, bad! Obi-Wan struggled to get up, breath coming out in harsh exhales. The Mandalorian also paused in his attack, just for a split second, and raised his blasters again.

“Step away!” 

The warm relief crashed through Obi-Wan’s veins like a wave at his Master’s familiar voice. The Mandalorian would’ve been able to take on Obi-Wan, but definitely not Master Qui-Gon. Definitely. 

And the attacker seemed to realize this too, as they moved back fractionally. 

“Run.” Qui-Gon whispered hurriedly as he passed Obi-Wan to face the Mandalorian. Obi-Wan nodded quickly, ushering Lo to his feet and away from the two clashing figures. 

Their attempt, of course, did not escape the Mandalorian who took off their attention from Qui-Gon.

Bad mistake.

The armor-clad figure started to fly again over Qui-Gon’s head to reach them, but it only gave his Master the opening to slash at the jetpack attached to the armor. It fell, and with it, the Mandalorian was now on even ground.

Obi-Wan’s prediction came true when he heard the two figures now battling in hand-to-hand combat. Between Qui-Gon’s parry and a swift kick to the head, the Mandalorian stumbled onto the ground. 

Certain that his Master would be victorious, Obi-Wan urgently shepherded Lo onto an inconspicuous closet as far as he could from the battlefield. “Stay here until I come and get you, all right?” He whispered, ejecting as much comfort as he could through the Force. Lo’s unnervingly big round eyes quivered, but he nodded obediently. “It’ll be alright, Lo. I promise.” And with that, Obi-Wan rushed back to assist his Master.

The Mandalorian was disarmed, and at a serious disadvantage. A fibercord whip had apparently been introduced to the fight, as Qui-Gon was somehow tying down the Mandalorian with it, bringing the armor-clad figure down. 

Obi-Wan caught one of the blasters that had fallen off and kicked it away from their attacker, feeling like he could finally catch his breath again.

Qui-Gon too, was now breathing in shallow breaths. He secured the cord tighter, earning a grunt from the Mandalorian. The Mandalorian struggled and thrashed against his bond, but Obi-Wan saw no outward injuries. Nothing too bad, anyway. His limbs were all still intact.

Obi-Wan watched as Qui-Gon removed the helmet slowly. And underneath them was a man, with a decidedly vicious glare. He looked almost wild, wavy brown hair strewn haphazardly against his face. But more than that, he was young. Not painfully young, but enough that he wasn't far from Obi-Wan's age. Which made it all just more impressive and terribly concerning.

Obi-Wan knew that the Mandalorians were proud warriors, but he'd never seen one at this level so young.

“Let go of me.” His voice, without the modulator from the helmet, was low and bold and dangerous. But his eyes –as brown as his hair–were menacing, and they felt so, so sharp in the way they narrowed in a cold, murderous way.

(Obi-Wan could feel it in the Force, taste the disdain and something more in his tongue)

“I don’t think so.” Qui-Gon’s assured voice replied, already assessing the man.

Something —danger, kill, hatred, murder— flashed across the man’s eyes. “Let. Go.” The words dropped into an icy, barely restrained anger.  

"Who are you? Why did you attack us?" His Master continued further, seemingly unbothered by the murderous intent dripping out of their prisoner.

"None of your business." He snarled in return, struggling with renewed vigor against his bonds.  

Master Qui Gon raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed. "Is it? You came to attack us."

"... I'm here for the kid." He grounded out roughly. 

Lo, who was all alone in a cleaning closet, safe, Obi-Wan reminded himself. He sought out the youngling’s signature, hoping to alleviate the terror the young one must be feeling. I’ll come shortly, Obi-Wan promised.

He glanced at Qui-Gon expectantly. 'The buyer must've hired a bounty hunter to ensure the child arrives safely.'  Obi-Wan suggested through their bonds. Qui-Gon inclined his head but did not respond.

Killing wasn't the Jedi way, and the Council would definitely prefer to question him first before handing the case to the authorities. Obi-Wan briefly wondered if the man had succeeded at taking other Force-sensitive children and selling them to the highest bidder.

He shuddered, his mind taken back to all the other youngling at the creche.

Qui-Gon seemed to be concentrating further on the man, but Obi-Wan couldn't read what he was feeling. “Who hired you?” Qui-Gon asked. 

The man barked a nasty laugh. “Like I’d tell you, shabuir.” 

Qui-Gon closed his eyes. and Obi-Wan could suddenly felt the heavy frustration emitting from his Master. A loud sigh escaped Qui-Gon. “I need to speak to the Council about this. Jango Fett, you will be taken to Coruscant to answer for your actions.” Qui-Gon declared, and the persistent swirl of thoughts running on Obi-Wan’s mind stopped.

There was a heavy weight in the air afterwards that lingered even after Obi-Wan went and fetched Lo. 

Obi-Wan knew the name, but he hadn’t yet realized the implication of it all. Obi-Wan knew about Galidraan. Then again, which Jedi didn't? They dubbed him the... Jedi Killer. It was quite on the nose, Obi-Wan thought. Of course they just had to have the misfortune of meeting the man himself. And they were still a long, long way back to Coruscant. 

This is shaping up to be an absolutely bantha poo of a plan, Obi-Wan thought silently. He wished Yoda would've just invited them to join earlier and they would've been able to avoid this whole mess.

Chapter Text

Kamino

22 BBY 

As Obi-Wan expected, the Council is less than happy about the sudden appearance of an army. A Mandalorian clone army for the Grand Republic, at that, commissioned by a Jedi Master that had been dead for more than ten years.

He can't see that going over smoothly at the Senate. 

"Surprising revelation, this is. Very curious, I am." Yoda hums, the blue hue of his form shifts minutely in the holo projection. "Troubling, it was, the matter of Master Sifo-Dyas' foresight. Believe him, we could not." He shakes his head sadly.

"He did push for the creation of an army for the Order, yes, but— a clone army, you said?" Mace rubs his temple, imploring Obi-Wan with heavy eyes.

"Yes, Masters." Obi-Wan shouts against the roaring downpour, standing as wet as a drowned tooka in front of his fighter. "They were cloned from a bounty hunter." He informs, clutching his robes tighter between his fingertips in a futile attempt against the harsh wind. It's thoroughly uncomfortable, standing out here in the rain, but Obi-Wan would rather sacrifice comfort for privacy. He knows that the building, technologically advanced as it is, could easily listen in on his conversation.

Obi-Wan had even used the secret comm codes, reserved only for dire situations in need of urgent secrecy, to reach out for the Masters. He figures they would appreciate this big revelation first before forwarding them to the rest of the Council.

"Bounty hunter? Did they tell you who?" Mace asks, straight to the point as expected.

Obi-Wan bites his lips. He’s more than tempted right now to skirt around the question, the shame burning brightly at the back of his mind, but the Force is also being insistent at its prodding, urging him to choose right now. When he finishes confessing Jango's deeds, the course of the fate will change, Obi-Wan is sure of this.

In all honesty, even he himself couldn’t quite wrap his head around what his former lover had done, much less trying to explain it to the Order. It was one thing to fake his death to Obi-Wan, but to sell his genetic data to build an army for the Jedi? 

Has Jango lost his mind?

“-Wan? Can you hear us?” 

Feeling the harsh rain splatters on his face, Obi-Wan suddenly realizes he’s been quiet for too long. The Masters probably think it was a problem with the connection, pouring rain and everything, and for once Obi-Wan is thankful that he’s so far away from the Temple that they cannot pick up on his anxieties through the Force. 

Taking a shuddering breath, Obi-Wan decides to just get this over with. Like ripping off a bacta patch , he reasons. The Force feels tight, anticipation building under his skin.

Obi-Wan's tongue feels thick in his mouth as he pulls his cloak impossibly closer to himself. "It was Fett," he whispers, feeling like he's admitting a terrible secret. "It was Jango, Master." He croaks, voice breaking at the name. 

The heavy burden in his chest does not dissipate at the admission, nor does the bitter taste in his mouth evaporate away. If anything, Obi-Wan catches himself bracing for the impact of the Masters' disappointment, not even able to maintain eye contact any longer. He struggles to release all of these conflicting emotions to the Force, to let go and obtain back the Jedi serenity that he's all but lost once he touched his feet on this planet—but they prove to be persistent in haunting him.

For a few tense moments no one says anything. 

Obi-Wan is soaking wet under the rain, thoroughly drenched up to his boots, but manages to hold himself very still. He feels like a youngling again, about to be lectured on the matter of attachment and letting go. As if he was a Padawan once more under the scrutiny of Yoda and Mace, holding his breath as to what they thought of him. 

Would they question him on the matter of his attachment? Jango was — is? — the closest thing Obi-Wan has ever had as a lover, a fact that is mostly known by the Council and Qui-Gonn, given that they've witnessed Jango and Obi-Wan's early days of blooming friendship. But he was merely a Padawan then, not yet a Jedi knight, and the matter of affection (although complicated) was still a learning subject for him. 

But then again, Obi-Wan was also one step away from walking out of the Order that time, ready to walk away if Jango had just gone up to him and asked. But then he died, and Obi-Wan grieved for him— a part of his heart dying alongside Jango; only to find out that the man is still alive.

Obi-Wan braves himself to see them from under his lashes, watching as the two Masters collect their thoughts. He expects more shock and outrage, but Yoda only looks contemplative, his hand twitching on top of his gimer stick. His long ears go flat, a faint hum coming from under his breath, while Mace is already lacing his fingers together in front of his face, heaving the gravest sigh Obi-Wan has heard from him this month. He could almost see the vein ticking on the older Master's temple. 

It’s Mace who opens his mouth first. 

"Jango Fett..." He murmurs uncomfortably, taking his time in saying the name that it makes Obi-Wan tenses involuntarily under his heavy robes.

Yoda's long ears twitch. "Certain, are you?" He inquires, tapping his gimer stick. His wizened eyes, even through the mediocre quality of the holotransmission, stare right into Obi-Wan’s heart. 

Obi-Wan nods, breath catching in his throat. He doesn't want to mention the fact that he'd actually talked with Jango (and his son ). Now is not the right time. "Yes, Master. They all have his face." 

Each and every single one of them. Same features, the same build, but still uniquely different in the Force. The clones' Force presence was numerous, given their numbers, and they are a sure sign of a living being, despite what Taun We claimed otherwise. They are nothing like Jango's once-familiar signature: sturdy and steady in its presence, but muted in the way all non-sensitive beings do. And Obi-Wan can faintly sense him now, from a long forgotten habit, his presence on edge, circling agitatedly somewhere inside the building.

Mace shakes his head. "Back from the dead, now? Truthfully, I wouldn't put it past him." He admits with great reluctance. Maybe he has seen it, Obi-Wan thinks, a possibility in one of the shatterpoints.

"Secrets, he has. Questionable, is his motive. Knows Sifo-Dyas, does he?"

This time, Obi-Wan’s answers come more easily. "No, he claimed to be commissioned by a Lord Tyranus on the moon of Bogden…" Obi-Wan rubs his chin. "I was under the impression that Master Sifo-Dyas had been dead over ten years ago, he couldn't have made the order, could he?" 

"No. And neither he — nor anyone in the Order — had the authorization for making that kind of decision." Mace answers, which only makes Obi-Wan frown deeper.

Yoda tuts, the tap-tap-tap of his stick muted through the holotransmission. "A mystery, we have. Resolve this, we must." His withered eyes are closed now, presumably listening to what the Force has to say.

Obi-Wan agrees. This is no longer a matter of investigation for Senator Amidala now, it has transformed into a delicate operation the moment he unearths the Pandora's box full of questions, each one more worrying than the next. 

“Do you think the Kaminoans are conspiring on the assassination?” Mace continues to ask, lips set in a straight line.

“The assassination? No.” Obi-Wan shakes his head. “I don’t think they are also allied with the Separatist. They’re just after the business.” Obi-Wan says. It’s apparent that the Kaminoans are simply a provider of a service here. On the matter of how Lord Tyrannus became the one who decided the template for the clones instead of Master Sifo-Dyas? Now that is still very much a part of the mystery. 

Yoda and Windu share a static glance across the holo. Obi-Wan is not privy to the silent conversations they're exchanging, but he can imagine. Nobody in the Temple speaks outright of it, but being intimately connected to the Force as he is, Obi-Wan can feel the shroud of darkness hanging above the Force, dampening his connection to it. It happens agonizingly slowly, but once he was aware of it, he couldn’t mistake it for anything else. And if Obi-Wan can feel this, then he figures the Grand Master and the Master of the Order would have felt it as well. 

"Is there anything else you want to elaborate on, Obi-Wan?" Mace asks instead, once he tears his eyes away from Yoda, sounding so casual that Obi-Wan knows that it means Mace is aware that he's withholding information. Obi-Wan sighs. This certainly won't help Jango's case at all, but it is the main reason he's here anyway. 

"Jango, he… might also be the one behind Senator Amidala's assassination, Master." Obi-Wan says slowly, watching for their reaction. 

More rain pours over him. The flicker of Jango’s presence starts to drift further and further away from him, and Obi-Wan knows he doesn’t have much time left. 

"Find him, will you?" Yoda asks, but it doesn't feel like a question at all. 

Obi-Wan himself already knew the answer from the very start. 

"Yes, Masters." He bows, letting the rain drizzle across the hood of his cloak.

This was definitely not how Jango pictured their fateful reunion would go.

Because he’s not fooling anyone, here. One way or another, his Jetii would find a way to know that Jango is still alive, most likely through all that Force osik. He’s always expected the day would come sooner than later, but to prevail for over ten years had been surprising. 

One second he was coming back from Coruscant, ready to see Boba again, and the next thing he knew he was staring once again at Obi-Wan kriffing Kenobi with his stupid blue eyes and even stupider hair. On Kamino, of all places. It's real funny how fate likes to twist Jango's sanity.

Jango had painstakingly ensured his hideout here very carefully and went through the troubles of making sure he covered his traces coming over here. Hells, even that karking Zam Wesell wouldn't know of this place, so how did Obi-Wan even find out? 

Jango’s mind is a cacophony of questions now, faced with the one person he knew he couldn’t escape, streams of ‘what the kriff’ s and ‘how the kark–!’ s running through his head with the occasional, more quiet laments whispering slowly. Jango keeps those ones very close to himself because he is not wearing his buy’ce, and he’s been informed in the past that it makes him easier to read in the Force.

It's good to see you, Jango doesn't say, looking at Obi-Wan's eyes, the same shade of blue he's lost himself in many times in the past, and now they don't seem to recognize him . Not in the way they used to.

(Not in the way Jango wants him to.) 

I'm sorry I disappeared on you, I can't even face you, Jango desperately thinks, but Jetii can read minds and emotions so Jango lash out instead, masking his guilt with anger. 

Obi-Wan was used to his anger back then, able to match it with cold gaze and hard facts— but it's been a while. Jango barely even knows himself these days, so he doesn't blame Obi-Wan for turning sad instead. 

The sight, like every other time Jango saw it, grates on his heart. Obi-Wan's sadness is never easy to face. His fury, Jango can handle. His cold shoulders and scathing remarks— Jango can take that. That means Obi-Wan still cares enough to be angry. But his sorrow has proven to be  Jango's downfall before, and now it seems that he's going to face it once more. 

Obi-Wan is many things: tenacious, stubborn to a fault, karking naive sometimes, but one thing he's not is a fool .

So the second Obi-Wan’s form disappear from the doorway with Taun We, Jango immediately pulls up to Slave I in his full beskar'gam with Boba in tow; because he’s not about to face Obi-Wan when the man had just realized what Jango had done, millions of clones and all, and his first priority is Boba now. Getting them out of Kamino is a need, and avoiding Obi-Wan is a requisite, if he wants to keep his son safe.

But, of course. The universe hates him and all that osik, because Obi-Wan’s impeccable timing literally caught Jango in the act. It has barely been twenty standard minutes— Obi-Wan was supposed to be more than occupied with the longnecks still, and not running in the rain trying to catch up with him. Jango knew Obi-Wan would love nothing more but to get his hands on the Kaminoans’ contract and what they entail regarding the clones, to comb through the fine details and tearing them apart politely to their faces, and that kark takes up a long time . He really, really shouldn't be here.

Now what follows is not entirely Jango’s fault, alright?

For the record, Obi-Wan pulls up his lightsaber first. Jango is just reacting. Self-defense, he’ll say, as he shoots both of his blasters that makes Obi-Wan roll out of the way. 

Boba is already on the ship, and Jango needs to go, fast, before Obi-Wan comes up with any clever ideas. So he does the only logical thing someone would do when faced with a Jetii: knock their lightsabers away. 

It should work out fine, it should be able to buy Jango some time to slip away to his ship where his son is waiting— but again and again, Jango is painfully reminded that Obi-Wan Kenobi doesn’t do things the easy way ever. 

Fine, alright. Jango's been hoping he can kick Obi-Wan out of the way and quickly take off somewhere the Jetii can't follow, but if Obi-Wan wants a fair fight? Jango will give him a fair fight. 

But maybe it slips his mind for a little, for as much as Obi-Wan had been known as a great swordsman, his ex lover had also been a fantastic fighter, one that is used to Jango's fighting style. 

Jango has to whip out his cable cord to catch Obi-Wan's wrist in an attempt to wrangle his lightsaber away from him, because the Jetii managed to summon it back to his hands, and he cleverly pulls Jango by his cable cord instead, causing Jango to stumble. Jango curses out loud because he must've used that Force osik and now Jango is struggling to fly away, feeling like a heavy hand is pushing him towards Obi-Wan. 

Jango manages to get a shot in on the hilt of the lightsaber, bouncing it away from Obi-Wan's hand, and shoots it once again so it'll be out of reach for him to use his Force magic. 

At the same time, Jango lets himself go lax so that Obi-Wan loses his balance because of the sudden lack of tension, and zooms away, dragging Obi-Wan with him.

Obi-Wan, never one to be underestimated with, resorts to blasting away Jango's jetpack.

Karking hells, of course he still knows Jango after all these years, and he's not at all above knocking Jango's treasured jetpack away to level the playing field, just as much as Jango liked to toss his stupid laser sword away at the first opportunity. 

1 for 1, then.

Now unable to fly, Jango rolls as he lands on the stupidly slippery landing, knocking Obi-Wan to the ground with him. A bad choice, that one, because Obi-Wan swiftly kicks him in the face, nimble as always even when he's on his back. They brawl like that for a while, the rain making it slippery and wet and Jango is so karking over this—

Boom! 

Something huge —the blaster cannon, Jango realizes— forces them to separate, and he hears Boba's cry from inside the ship. "Let's go, dad!" 

Stars, Jango is proud. 

The shot is nowhere near close to either man, but it does make Obi-Wan falter, skidding precariously into the edge, and allow Jango to effectively make a run for it at the same time, hauling his shebs into the ship. 

He's panting and swimming in both of his sweat and rain as Boba closes the ramp, barely missing Obi-Wan's dangerous light sword. Boba has already prepared the ship, ready to go at a moment's notice as Jango tucks himself haphazardly into the pilot seat.

"Jango!" He can hear the muffled voice of Obi-Wan's indignant cry, and several shots from what must have been his blaster, but Jango elects to close his eyes at the sound, wishing they would be drowned out by the sound of perpetual rainstorm and engine noise.

His chest aches with something that is not quite physical as they zoom away, his breathing harsh from exhaustion and — fear. 

"Is he going to follow us, dad?" Boba's voice is laced with anxiety as he asks, brown eyes wide in trepidation. 

He suppresses a huge sigh. "We'll see him again soon, I'm sure."

Obi-Wan is one determined bastard that doesn't rest until he's satisfied. Jango could hide all he wants in those abandoned backwater planets, but he's sure that the Jedi will come knocking at his door somehow. 

No attachment, my ass.