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Chapter Text

Quinlan worriedly observed his friend as he stared out of the transpari-steel window on the Coruscant skyscape. The passing ships and speeders reflected as tiny dots in his eyes that had turned grey in grief.

“This is not good enough,” he heard him mutter, and Quinlan stepped closer to rest a hand on his shoulder.

“You cannot save everyone, Obi-Wan,” he offered. “You’re doing your best and it is war.”

It had been the wrong thing to say apparently, because the Force swelled with regret-sadness-sorrow.

“Yes. War.” Obi-Wan’s voice was cold and harsh. A hand, trembling just the slightest bit, reached up to abruptly push his hair back. “And I am a general.” The again went unsaid, but it rang loudly in the silence between them.

Oh. Quinlan wanted to kick himself for his thoughtlessness. Had he not sat with his friend through long sleepless nights before, listening to confessions and self-recriminations about a war that had so fundamentally shifted the way they viewed the world? How could he not have gathered that this would hit so much closer to home for Obi-Wan than any other Jedi?

In his defence, it was nearly two decades ago that his friend had returned after a year of nothing but uncertainty and vicious rumours about him. And the disaster that had been Melida/Daan felt so far away to him now. But he could still recall how it had taken months for Obi-Wan to lose the hollowness in his cheeks, to shed the haunted look as he looked upon the younglings passing them in the Temple halls and get over the tremble in his hands whenever he used a lightsabre.

Quinlan felt helpless and angry as he realised that it was the same tremble right now.

It was a year into what they now called the clone wars, but it had taken only a few weeks for the Jedi Order, the GAR and the Republic as a whole to realise that in Obi-Wan Kenobi, they had a strategic and tactical genius at their hands. And immediately started to pile responsibilities and roles on him with abandon and relief.

And Obi-Wan just exuded confidence as he took up the mantle, first of General, then High General and all the other titles they had given him. In between he had knighted his Padawan and every day he was expected to be called to the council – all the while looking decidedly unflapped. So Quinlan supposed, having been stationed in the Outer Rim for most part of it, he could be excused for having fallen for that front as well. But now, face-to-face after such a long time, it became glaringly obvious to him that Obi-Wan was actually not “just fine”.

“I’m sorry, my friend,” he offered and gently turned his oldest friend to face him. The blankness of his face startled him and he sighed. “Why is it always you, Obes?” he asked bitterly and drew the other Jedi into a gentle hug.

After that day, Quinlan had put his shadow training to good use and had observed Obi-Wan diligently for a few weeks. And he was exhausted just from that.

Ki-Adi Mundi had walked up to Obi-Wan with a stack of data pads, resulting in no less than an hour of impromptu conversation about requisition forms while standing in the middle of a hallway.

Jocasta Nu had pulled him into updating all of the bios of the known Separatists’ leaders.

Cin Dralling had apparently decided that teaching Soresu to a group of injured Jedi who could not execute more acrobatic forms anymore was just the job for Obi-Wan.

Yoda, kark the troll, seemed to find weird errands in the creche for him, making his push for Obi-Wan to take another padawan about as subtle as his hits with that Force-damned gimmer stick.

Of course there was Skywalker, who was emotionally needy on the best of days and constantly sought his former master’s approbation. Or asked him to cover up some catastrophe or another.

And what got to him most of all was the Temple grapevine. Of course Obi-Wan had never really faded into the background. His padawan-ship had been too characterised by interplanetary crisis, vengeful dark-siders, dramatic missions, political confrontations or some other variation or combination thereof to allow for any obscurity, even among a community as large as the Jedi. And then the whole “first to slay a Sith in over a millennium” and training the supposedly Chosen One would not help either.

Whatever way one wanted to look at it, Obi-Wan was just karking impressive and one of the brightest stars the Jedi had produced in a long time. And he was even nice about it.

But apparently, this caused quite a few to wonder how so many impressive feats combined into just one being were even possible. Obi-Wan had once confided in him that the scrutiny he found himself under was often hard to bear. As if everyone was just waiting for him to slip up. Back then, Quinlan had brushed it off, but observing the group of young knights with their mix of awe-anticipation-jealously during Obi-Wan’s spar with Mace Windu made him wonder.

The only ones being at least aware that his friend was an actual sentient being with needs such as sleep, food or breaks were the clones. He had invited himself along to one of Obi-Wan’s trips up to The Negotiator – and wasn’t that name something? – which was in orbit.

Obi-Wan’s 212^th was different from the other forces he had visited, the comradery so genuine and effortless that Quinlan could almost tangibly feel the devotion for the other on both sides.

But he also knew that Obi-Wan had a long list of names that refreshed daily on his datapad to remember them all, agonised over ever injury his troops sustained, said the remembrances every night and lost more sleep than was holy in order to organise supplies to improve the living standards of what were basically slaves. He had also not forgotten the insane number of politician appointments Obi-Wan kept, no doubt lobbying for his Clones Rights Bill pet project. And when had he even found time to draft  something as elaborate and complicated as that 200-pager document?

Though apparently his troops knew of his efforts as well and were doing their utmost to ensure he did not burn out like a dying star. Approvingly he witnessed Commander Cody seek out seating first before starting discussions, have Lieutenant Waxer bring snacks frequently that Obi-Wan ate absentmindedly (a tactic Quinlan would need to remember) and a group of shinies pulling the general into a holo-marathon in the rec-room at the end of the day.

When Obi-Wan had just stepped away from conversation with his command team after answering his comm in a clipped “Kenobi.”, Quinlan’s eyes met the Commander’s and he saw the same concern reflected there that had only been increasing in his last few weeks of reconnaissance.

Something had to give. And soon.

Chapter Text

Only a few days later, Quinlan found himself walking the hallways of the Senate Rotunda. He was not specifically on assignment per se, but Master Tholme had made an offhand comment on the darkness lingering over the building not lessening – the opposite actually. It was a known problem, but after such a long time away from the Temple, his former master thought that Quinlan had fresher eyes and might just do a bit of … well, he didn’t call it snooping, but essentially that’s what Quinlan understood.

He was well aware of how seeing a Jedi made people more careful about their words so he was in civilian clothes, along with a firm suggestion of don’t look-nothing to see-carry on cloaking him. He had the look of one of the harassed admin staff, including the stack of datapads and everyone seemed more than happy to ignore his existence.

There was nothing he was searching for in particular, just picking up impressions, so when he heard Obi-Wan’s name through heightened senses as he pressed past a delegation of Corellia, he drifted carefully towards it.

It was Obi-Wan’s kid and Chancellor Palpatine himself, standing near the doorway of the Nubian senatorial offices. Quinlan rolled his eyes as he settled himself into an out of the way alcove and made a show of leafing through a folder as if checking for something specific. Anakin Skywalker was a powerful Force user, but very much in everyone’s face and his ties to Senator Amidala were so obvious, it was almost painful. How the knight could even think himself subtle was beyond him, but what was even more of a question was how the senator herself could believe no one knew about them.

He refocused on the conversation, adding another layer of shielding to his own signature.

“I am sure Master Kenobi trusts your abilities. Alas…” The chancellor trailed off and Quinlan wondered what he had stumbled across. “He is certainly very centred on the Jedi teaching, very traditional. Maybe that is what is holding him back from making you High General.”

Promoting Skywalker? After less than a six-month of knighthood? Besides that, Quinlan was quite convinced that Skywalker’s skillset was actually used rather advantageously with his more mobile strike force of the 501^st. He lacked the big-picture view to command a larger fleet.

Obi-Wan was a notable exception to be the only one of the ten high generals not on the council, but he was a master in his own right and the council situation was only a matter of time. Whereas Anakin had not even taken on a Padawan yet. Not to speak about his unwillingness to do his own flimsi-work if the pile in Obi-Wan’s quarters were any indication.

“He is also very busy,” Anakin added, though he sounded less convinced of his own words.

“True, true, but it is worrisome that you feel he is holding you back, young friend.” The politician placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a grandfatherly smile. “You are certainly the strongest Jedi, you should be allowed to realise your full potential.”

Anakin ducked his head slightly, made a token protest, but Quinlan could feel his pleasure in the Force. What the hell was going on there?

The longer Quinlan listened he realised Palpatine was undermining Obi-Wan to Anakin without saying a word. He was just carefully planting doubts, which by the face of things already were on the young knights mind. He was grooming Anakin slowly, inch by inch and Quinlan wondered what for.

So far, the chancellor had appeared very cooperative with the Jedi, seemed to be friendly with the Council, though of course that was hard to tell from the outside. But a word here and there, or even worse, what he didn’t say…

Quinlan got up and started moving down the hall again, he had heard enough. Something was going on with Obi-Wan and his former student, he realised, now reading more into the slight tension whenever the topic came up with his friend. He needed to take a look behind the façade of The Team.

His research led him back to the Temple and to his own padawan. Aayla was a few years older than Anakin, but they had usually gotten along. Next to that, she was an active Jedi General as well with the 327^th Star Corps, which belonged to the Third Systems Army, the one that Obi-Wan headed.

He found her wrapping up an Ataru class for senior padawans, both her and the twenty or so students slightly winded, but content as they gathered up their supplies and chattered among themselves.

“Hey, Knight Secura, are you joining tonight?” the Nautolan youth called as they stepped towards the door. Aayla – bless her -  had already noticed her former master hovering in the shadows and declined the invitation for whatever social the kids were planning, slowing down her own movements until everyone had left.

“Quin,” she smiled and stepped towards him, bag thrown over her shoulder. They exchanged a hug, lingering as so many Jedi did in these uncertain times.

“You’re doing well with the kids,” he complimented. “Thinking about making me a grandmaster soon?” His teasing was good natured for she had been complaining about wanting a sibling padawan basically since she had been knighted.

“Nah, they are alright, but I’m happy as is for now.”

He followed her out of the salle and then guided her towards one of the gardens.

“What is bothering you, Master?” she asked. Perceptive as ever.

“You’ve been spending much time with Obi-Wan’s kid lately?” he probed.

“You mean when he’s actually at the Temple and not either on campaign or Senator Amidala’s?” she joked, then sobered slightly. “Not as frequently anymore. Much more with Master Obi-Wan himself, he’s very dedicated checking in with all the generals and commanders frequently.”

“Yeah, so I’ve noticed.” His bitter murmur made her raise her eyebrows.

“I’ve compared notes with some of the other armies,” she said carefully. “From what I can tell, everyone is pretty darn lucky to have him in the Third.” There was a hint of a defensive edge. She thought he was criticising his friend and was subtly rebuking him. Oh how you instil loyalty in all those around you, Obi-Wan, he thought.

“Calm, Aayla. I know he’s doing a fantastic job. I was merely commenting on the amount of work he does.” He paused, they were standing in a more secluded area now and he deliberated briefly how much to share. But screw this, this was Aayla, and he needed all the help he could get. “I’m worried for him,” he confessed.

Immediately her features softened and she nodded thoughtfully.

“The whispers of him getting assigned to the council are getting louder every day. Especially since Master Piell’s seat is now vacant for nearly the full three months of mourning,” she commented. “Not that it would make much of a difference. Usually before our meetings, he either comes from a meeting with them or is heading towards it after. So yes, there are few Jedi more busy than him.”

“Besides this, I think his relationship with Skywalker is strained and it’s weighing on him. Do you know anything about that?” he asked, because there was little more to say to that.

To his surprise, Aayla gave out a very un-dignified harumph.

“Well, for some reason Anakin has got it in his head that he could singlehandedly end the war if everyone would just let him decide. He is chaffing against any kind of direction and though Obi-Wan has the patience of a saint… it’s difficult for him, Quinlan.”

“Anakin always had a bit of a short fuse,” he let the sentence hang in the air and just like he expected, she picked it up.

“But he was never seeking a confrontation as much, was not as aggressive unprovoked. It’s like he does not trust the Jedi anymore. Like he doesn’t trust Obi-Wan.”

Which was a fairly ridiculous notion, because there was nothing that Obi-Wan would not do for him, Quinlan thought. His mind turned back to his overheard conversation.

“Seems like he’s lacking a clear picture if he actually came to that conclusion, methinks,” he commented and Aayla obviously heard the undertone.

“Indeed, makes one wonder where he got the idea that Obi-Wan wouldn’t move the galaxy for him.”

Well, Quinlan had the answer to that already. Now, how to rectify it. He felt the headache coming already.

Chapter Text

There were several ways how to go about it, Quinlan considered, but to be fair, Skywalker did not do subtle and if he were completely honest with himself, every now and then, the sledgehammer method was refreshing.

This thought process found him riding up the turbo lift of 500 Republica. He had not exactly planned to go here, but as often seemed the case, Skywalker was not in the Temple and the Force also had nudged him to move this conversation elsewhere.

Surprise was clear on Senator Amidala’s face as she received him in that spacious sitting room. The very overt display of wealth, tasteful as it was, made his skin itch a bit and for some reason he suddenly longed for Obi-Wan’s apartment, with its threadbare couch and faded rugs. Of course it also had to do with the company, but there was no place where he felt quite as home as curled up under the afghan that Master Jinn had collected on the weird diplomatic mission that nearly saw Obi-Wan accidentally married to the Queen’s nephew. Good times.

“Master Vos,” she greeted. “This is unexpected, but you are quite welcome. What can I do for you today?” She made an inviting hand gesture and they both settled on the couches.

“I came to speak with Knight Skywalker, actually.”

She stiffened and her expression turned carefully neutral. “Oh, whyever would you come here then? I would expect him to be at the Temple, Master Jedi.” He had to hand it to her, she was good at this. Unfortunately for her though, he suddenly lacked the patience for games.

“Please, this is quite unnecessary, milady. Obi-Wan may be polite enough to pretend that he swallows those lines, but I simply wish to talk to Knight Skywalker and this is the most likely place.”

She did not say a word, her eyes going just the slightest bit wider as she went through the implications of what he just said.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to offend you,” he backtracked a bit as she was still unmoving.

“You know.” It was more a statement than a question, but he nodded anyways.

“Of course, so does half the Jedi Order and a good chunk of the GAR,” he asserted.

“Master Kenobi –“

“Obi-Wan told me he saw you before the arena on Geonosis. And then conspicuously Anakin did not give him his padawan braid as would have been tradition. Your astromech droid is permanently with him, and from what I know the shiny golden protocol droid over there was built by him. So Obi-Wan knew from the beginning.”

Amidala wore less make-up as a senator than she had as a queen and the slight colour that rose to her cheeks was obvious.

“Then why did he not say anything?!” Anakin – always suited for a dramatic entrance – finally burst out of his hiding place, fear and anger almost tangible around him.

Quinlan was unfazed and pointedly stared at him until he stopped looming over him. The young knight pulled back, no doubt motivated by the senator’s tug at his sleeve, and sat down next to her.

“Well, to answer your question, he understood your secrecy as a signal to keep himself out of your business. I know he is hurt by it to this day, but he told me that he was very happy that you had found such a strong and reliable partner in life.”

Anakin snorted in disbelief and Quinlan’s mien darkened.

“Is it so surprising that he wishes you well?” he asked, annoyed.

“That’s what he told you? But maybe he is just keeping this knowledge back to reveal it at the right moment.”

“Careful, Skywalker,” Quinlan warned. “You’re talking about the man who was in the council chambers every week for years to fight on your behalf. If he had wanted to ruin your reputation, he would not need an elaborate plan, he’d simply let you do all the work.”

“Probably just moaning about me,” The nerve of that brat. Even the senator looked taken aback at the sudden aggression.

“Ani, Obi-Wan has always supported you,” she began, but he made a bitter noise.

“Oh come on, it was very obvious that he did not want me for a padawan.”

“For someone who didn’t want you, he sure went above and beyond,” Quinlan snarked. His patience was wearing thin. “Or did you think any padawan can do half the shit you pulled and still come out smelling of roses?”

“He never let me contact my mother!” Anakin roared. “And now she’s dead! Qui-Gon would have-”

“Stop right there! I understand that Master Jinn freed you and he’s your hero, but don’t forget he was the Jedi who abandoned my friend on a war torn planet, because Obi-Wan cared less about following the Code and more about helping children. Every time Obi-Wan made a friend, every time he fell in love, Qui-Gon would order, guilt or pressure him out of any attachment. So don’t think that he would have given you more leeway than your Master.” Quinlan took a deep breath. He was losing control, but thinking about Qui-Gon Jinn’s A+ parenting always did that to him.

“What?” Anakin asked, looking at him like he had grown a second head.

“Listen kid, you seem to think that Obi-Wan mostly just had a chill time during his own padawanship, but believe me, he would’ve given the world if Jinn had just stood up for him once like he did for you.” He remembered this heart-breaking confession, early in the morning when they were staring at the ceiling together. Quinlan had challenged him why he took on each of Anakin’s misdeeds. Brokenly, Obi-Wan admitted that he never wanted his padawan to feel as alone and abandoned as he had been. Quinlan had felt so grieved and raw in that moment, he had not been able to do anything but hold his friend.

And now he sat opposite this child that believed he was wronged by everyone. He knew that his anger would get them nowhere, so he reigned it in and sighed.

“Look, Skywalker. Anakin,” he amended. “Obi-Wan took you on the moment his master died in his arms, he did not even have a formal trial and his braid was cut by Master Yoda in his quarters before the funeral. Everyone was against you joining the Jedi and especially so against this young, barely-knighted kid taking you on. He was terrified, grieving and under constant scrutiny. That should be something you understand, huh?”

Skywalker seemed transfixed by his story now and that was probably an improvement.

“And he stuck with you. He learned Huttese so he could understand you when you cried out during your nightmares, he argued with five masters to get you bumped up to the senior droid-tech class because you enjoyed it and when you kept babbling over that one dish, he revived several more than dubious contacts to make it happen. And that was before you even turned 10. Do you really, and I mean really think that Obi-Wan Kenobi does not love you?” he asked and he observed the knight carefully. His eyes were wide and suspiciously shiny. His lover-spouse-partner-whatever next to him looked vaguely stricken.

He got up from the sofa. “Anyways, seems to me like you should talk less about Obi-Wan and more with him. And when you do, maybe you should also listen. Barring that, maybe observe with a bit more of an open mind.” Obi-Wan loved fiercely, but silently. It was all in his deeds and if Skywalker would just look, he’d be astounded.

Chapter Text

What Quinlan did not expect was to find Obi-Wan waiting on his couch when he returned from his “Skywalker mission”. They had always had each other’s key codes, but usually Obi-Wan was more restrained in using it. Something about safe spaces for retreat. Well, apparently not today. Quinlan took a moment to take in the rightness of Obi-Wan in his personal space, how natural he seemed as he adjusted the cushions slightly and then crossed his arms.

“So, will you tell me what you are up to?” he asked without preamble. Of course, of course Obi-Wan had noticed his slightly off behaviour. He was too perceptive for his own good.

Quinlan aimed for an innocent expression. “Up to? Why, my friend, I’m hurt that you-“

“Quin,” Obi-Wan cut him off. “I’ve noticed you following me ever since you returned to the Temple and you’ve been casual about it, but your questions all seem to be just a bit too focused.” He waited but when Quinlan stalled too long for his tastes, he did his eyebrow-raising-thing that he had perfected years ago “Well?”

Quinlan couldn’t help his own reaction of fondness-protectiveness-warmth. Some of it must have escaped his shielding, because his friend’s expression shifted from sharply observant and expectant to surprise at his disproportionate emotional reaction and then softened into a mixture of concern and gentle affection.

He got up from the couch and pulled Quinlan towards him by his wrist, always careful to avoid the hands, even if they were covered in gloves.

“Oh dear, whatever happened,” he asked and only now Quinlan realised how much of a toll the confrontation with Skywalker had taken. He let out a shuddering breath and leaned forward to rest his forehead on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Immediately, a hand came up to his neck and gently massaged the line where his skull and neck met. He sighed in appreciation.

“I don’t want to worry you, Obes,” he murmured and the irony of the situation was not lost on him. All this had started because he was worried about his friend. And here he was, receiving comfort and care.

“Ah, you know I worry constantly for you. How could I not when you’re … well you,” his friend teased lightly, instinctively realising that Quinlan needed both reassurance and levity.

They both chuckled and Quinlan straightened. The hand fell away and he immediately missed the warmth. Huh, that was new, he thought.

Obi-Wan had already turned towards the small kitchen and started to boil water and rooted through Quinlan’s cabinets. From behind the stock of dry grains, he pulled out a tall tin, covered in a slightly obnoxious flower pattern and set it next to two brightly coloured mugs on the counter. Quinlan settled himself on the couch silently and observed as Obi-Wan scooped dull yellow granulates into the cups and closed his eyes as a citrus-y flavour wafted around the apartment when his friend poured water over them.

It was their thing, the lemon tea. Well, not really tea, was it? It was more sugar with artificial flavouring, almost unbearably sweet and not tasting like lemon at all. The clinking of Obi-Wan stirring the granulate to dissolve completely though was as familiar as his favourite duvet and he felt himself falling into the same calm it always brought.

They had done it since they were kids, it was almost subconscious now. Whenever they needed each other for support, they’d make the atrocious lemon tea and would sit and either talk it out or simply lend each other comfort. After Bandomeer, after Melida/Daan, after Mandalore, after Naboo, Quinlan’s room had almost permanently smelled of the stuff. After all the shadow missions, the gruelling undercover work, the time spent with the worst of the galaxy’s scum, Obi-Wan had magically appeared with the tin. Had listened and held the fractured parts of him together.

His friend’s footsteps came closer and Quinlan opened his eyes lazily to accept the cup. The warmth seeped through his gloves as Obi-Wan sat down next to him, pulling his legs up and leaning his head against the wall behind the couch.

“I spoke with your padawan,” Quinlan offered after a while of silence, only interrupted by one of them taking a slightly slurp-y (Quinlan) sip.

“When you say spoke..?” Obi-Wan fished. Too damn perceptive.

“All things considered, it was a mostly civil conversation. Just brought some things up.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “He made me angry,” he finally confessed.

“He does that, doesn’t he?” Obi-Wan sounded wistful and Quinlan felt a renewed spark of annoyance at the young knight for being the cause of the tiredness in that voice. “Peace,” his friend soothed. “Just tell me about it. Why are you angry?”

This was familiar, talking it through and Quinlan knew he’d feel better. He only hesitated because he wondered how it would make Obi-Wan feel to know he had talked to Anakin about him.

Well, he should have asked himself that beforehand, right? Nothing for it, Obi-Wan and him had always functioned on honesty and openness, he wouldn’t stop now.

“The short of it is that I have evidence that Anakin treats you highly unfairly and that he’d benefit from someone reminding him of a few facts before he gets completely comfortable in his self-righteous, hurt pride.”

He glanced at Obi-Wan and partly expected his default reaction of jumping to his former padawan’s defence.

Instead, his friend just sighed tiredly, scrubbing a hand over his face and then taking a sip of the tea. He grimaced. “I can’t deny that Anakin and I have drifted apart, that we clash much more often and that has led to quite a few uncomfortable situations - especially with others around. He’s always been ready to challenge me, and I appreciate it, since it prevents me from mistakes, but …”

This almost felt like the conversation with Aayla to Quinlan. Everyone saying Anakin had always been direct and a free spirit, but now there was a mean, confrontative, almost aggressive edge to him that Obi-Wan seemed to bear the brunt of.

“This, along with your frankly staggering workload has me concerned for you. Obes, do you even sleep?”

Obi-Wan huffed. “Of course I do. Just not a lot and even I say not enough.” It was a testament to their years of enduring friendship that he had not even tried to deflect and Quinlan felt a gentle spark of pride that he felt safe enough with him to do so. “So the last few weeks of you nearly religiously following my schedule, involving yourself in my affairs and seeing my troops without me, presumably to gossip-“ Ah, of course Obi-Wan had learned about his little extra trip to The Negotiator to compare notes with that commander of his. “-is down to that?”

Quinlan shrugged. “Apparently everyone has made it your job to keep us, the GAR, and the Republic alive. Only makes sense for someone to make sure you’re alive and okay to do it,” he said in a more blasé way than he felt, but Obi-Wan was good at reading between the lines and felt the honest concern.

“Ah, Quin, you were always more protective and caring than everyone thought. And I am humbled that you seek to dedicate your resources towards my well-being as much.”

They leaned against each other at their shoulders for a moment of silence. “You’ve always been too kind and forgiving. You need someone to say the not so nice things sometimes,” Quinlan finally said.

“I don’t want you to fight my battles with Anakin.”

“It’s not a battle, what he is doing is more of a destabilising effort under the surface. And I am starting to believe that there’s more to it.” Quinlan was unsure of how much to reveal of the conversation overheard in the Senate and sent a questioning nudge to the Force.

“It’s the chancellor you’re talking about, right?” Obi-Wan asked and Quinlan’s eyebrows climbed to his hairline. He did not expect Obi-Wan to be aware of that, or at least not allocating it such significance as to even bring it up.

Tell him, the Force insisted and Quinlan got the urgent feeling that they were on to something important.

“Yes, I heard him and Anakin talking about you. He’s … smart about it, but he’s sowing doubts very effectively. Or at least he’s nurturing them under the guise of a concerned friend. It felt … off.” He gestured helplessly to capture the discomfort he had felt from the situation that was difficult to put in words.

Of course, Obi-wan was already a step ahead, understanding what he had meant immediately. “I have … ah, more concerns. There little to put my finger on specifically, but Palpatine is a bit too insistent that he takes on all those emergency powers reluctantly. He speaks of his desire for peace, but many of the missions he directs us on are the opposite of de-escalating. I started to look at the legislation his office is pushing through under the radar. They’re about restricting bacta access, hindering the progress of the Clone Rights Bill, making money trails more opaque, but of course never spelling it out, more hidden in some clause and saying one thing, though these things will be the practical result. I simply don’t have the time to investigate more closely if I am not reading too much into it.” He sounded frustrated and if someone’s plan was to spread Obi-Wan too thin for him to be effective, they seemed to be on to something.

Quinlan mulled over what he had just learned. Obi-Wan had a sharp and perceptive mind, but more than that, his skill – and what made him so successful as a negotiator – had always lain in seeing the whole picture that the small puzzle pieces formed. Understanding the synergy between isolated incidents.

He was in an excellent position for it too. High ranking military, but not on the Jedi council (yet) or filling any governmental position that would make it harder to view it from the outside. He was ridiculously well connected throughout the Jedi order, the Senate and even the Galaxy as a whole, contacts on what felt every planet and from different demographics.

And on top of that, Quinlan had learnt to trust his feelings. Obi-Wan might fret occasionally, but he was not jumping at shadows and his sense in the Force was clear and more reliable than many assumed. Jinn had nearly trained it out of him, but Obi-Wan’s feelings had gotten Quinlan out of more sticky situations than he’d like and therefore he was inclined to see it as enough cause for a more thorough investigation.

“Obi-Wan, if you say it makes you worry, then I believe it’s worth looking into,” he finally concluded and to be honest, it was as simple as that.

His friend looked ridiculously relieved at someone not brushing off his thoughts and Quinlan frowned at the evidence of the conditioning that karking Jinn had left behind.

“Thank you, Quinlan,” he said full of emotion.

“Of course,” he answered easily and they sat in the quietness of the apartment for a while. The never-ending, steady hum of Coruscant traffic was the only sound except for their breathing as he thought about his next step.

“I think,” he started and something in his tone made Obi-Wan look up at him. “that this actually warrants bringing in some more resources. With your permission, I will mobilise the forces.”

“The forces?” Obi-Wan asked, his brow creased a bit because obviously Quinlan meant it figuratively. He apparently sensed the seeds of the idea that was forming in Quinlan’s mind. It was time to think big.

“Yeah. Just you wait, Obes.”

Chapter Text

It was not often that Quinlan voluntarily made the trip to the Archives. Most of his mission-related research came through the shadows’ office, with rather detailed briefs included and what he missed, he usually accessed remotely. Alas, it was not for a book that he went there today either, rather to join the political science club’s meeting that happened every week in one of the conference areas.

The group mainly consisted of senior padawans aiming for service as a consular later on and young knights just starting out in that career, with a frequent rotation of guest speakers of more experienced Jedi discussing their missions. Quinlan himself had attended every now and then before he had embraced his calling with the shadows more fully as a padawan, but he knew that Obi-Wan had been a dedicated member during his padawan years and was one of the most sought after visitors now.

Everyone greeted him friendly enough, there were about thirty Jedi already present when he slipped into the room and by the time he had spoken with the moderator of today’s session to make a request to address the group, the numbers had swelled further.

He hadn’t forgotten about Obi-Wan’s comment concerning current legislation and compared to all the other worrying aspects, he thought that was an easy fix so he sought to get it out of the way quickly.

As the session began, Quinlan settled in next to Senior Padawan Koda, with whom he had a brief acquaintance from a mission a few years back. Their greeting was friendly, if very solemn – therefore just as he remembered them.

There was no guest speaker today, with luck Quinlan had caught one of the bi-quarterly more administrative sessions, so he observed as they went through a quick review of the progress of the current projects and various key appointments for guests in the next few weeks patiently.

Knight Olah K’dara, a consular he remembered hanging out with Obi-Wan regularly during his more active time in the club moved through the various topics with brisk efficiency. She was much more self-assured than he recalled and he smiled at the small signs that they were all grown up now.

“Finally, Knight Vos has approached me with a proposal for a research project and is here today to introduce it to us. If you would?” She made a sweeping gesture and he rose from his seat to move to the front.

“Good evening everyone, my name is Quinlan Vos. Those that know me might be somewhat surprised to see me here today since I am not exactly known for my scholarly pursuits, but I am actually here on behalf of my friend Obi-Wan Kenobi.” The interest in the room immediately spiked. Quinlan smiled. Obi-Wan was certainly one of the more interesting Jedi indeed.

“As you know, he is currently serving as High General, but what some of you might be less aware of is his work for the Clone Rights Bill and the subsequent close contact with the Senate. And being there, he has been looking into the legislation published by the current leadership. He told me that in the last month alone, the Supreme Chancellor’s office has signed no less than two dozen bills off. And that’s not even counting those going through the regular debate process in the Senate. Even for war times, or so he has assured me, that is a startingly high number and he started to look into it.”

He allowed for a pause to gauge the mood of the room and was gratified to see quite a few lifted eyebrows (or other species equivalents) and the exchange of curious looks. So Obi-Wan’s impression that this was a lot of legislation seemed to be spot on.

Now for the hard part. He could not imply any mistrust for the chancellor on Obi-Wan’s part, if that went back to the wrong people – and it would, it always did – it could ruin his reputation.

“He is curious of what it implies for his work as a general, and the war as a whole. Beyond this, he enthused to me about the historic significance and socio-political dynamics that can be studied there” – here he rolled his eyes a bit for dramatic measure and had had affected a more posh accent than usual – “and I have the feeling that he’d like nothing better than to write a few papers on it, but well, you can probably imagine what his schedule looks like right now.”

This was a more innocent spin and while a few of the more seasoned knights narrowed their eyes slightly, the majority went with the idea of Obi-Wan being a researcher at heart (really though, had they even seen him on a battlefield?) and requiring the information for practical purposes in his capacity as a general.

“What would Master Kenobi require?” Olah asked, sensing that he needed an opening and quite ready to support him there. He shot her a grateful smile.

“I am certainly no expert, but from what I gathered, he’d need someone to read the bills and distil them into what they mean – both on a surface level, but also what the practical implications for various groups are, a contextual interpretation so to speak. Maybe who would sympathise with the sentiments they carry and who wouldn’t benefit.” He wondered if he shouldn’t have left out the last part, but apparently it seemed a bit of a standard review process for political legislation and many nodded along in understanding.

“Master Kenobi is correct, we live in unprecedented times and the political developments are certainly worth analysis for that alone and if it helps him and the Order as a whole navigate the political side of things…” a Bothan Jedi in the front row piqued up. They looked thoughtful, but also the enthusiasm that Quinlan associated with a researcher at heart bled through. “I am most certainly happy to help organise the laws currently passed,” they affirmed and the Force gave Quinlan the impression of agreement-curiosity-dedication in the room.

“I am gratified to hear that, I know that Obi-Wan works hard to end this war as quickly as possible, agonising over how to keep losses to a minimum and while we can’t all be on the frontlines, there is much we can do to support the Order’s role in this.”

Maybe he was laying it on a bit thick, he thought, but he saw the same determination and concern that he often felt in the other Jedi as well. War effort did come in many shapes and forms and maybe – just maybe – there were more Jedi looking for a way to be helpful and supportive in these difficult times. And if they reached some conclusions on their own that would support the vague feelings Obi-Wan and Quinlan had? All the better.

It kind of snowballed from there, and to a degree that surprised even Quinlan. He had left the coordination of the project to Searst Mo’fey, the Bothan knight who had been essential for the acceptance of his idea. The species was noted for their political acumen so he was certain it was in excellent hands, well, paws with her.

But what had surprised him was the young Sullustan that had approached him as he was about to leave after the meeting.

“Thank you for coming today, Knight Vos, I am initiate Dmmt Nap,” they had introduced themselves with a bow. “I must ask, what you said about supporting the Order in many different ways, did you mean that?”

He had been honestly a bit taken aback. “Of course, many hands help with making big tasks small.” The saying that had been used in the creche when they were growing up was almost automatic.

Dmmt Nap had nodded solemnly, their big, almond-shaped eyes glittering up at him. Sullustans did not grow tall and this one was tiny due to their age.

“Many of my fellow initiates wish we could do more useful things. We can’t fight or go on missions, and most of us would be too scared anyways, but we’re sure there is something we could do now that so many Jedi are away from the Temple.”

Quinlan’s heart had contracted with dull pain, the children of course noticed all the changes the war brought.

“This is a commendable thought. I am sure there should be many things that you could do,” he had affirmed. Honestly, he did not really know what, but they were Jedi, serving others was their creed.

He had promised to look into it and get back to them and even before he had reached his quarters he had directed his path towards the Halls of Healing.

“Bant, my friend, you have a minute for your favourite Knight?” he called towards his Mon Calamari friend as he strode into her office.

She looked up from her desk with a dry look, but gestured to a chair, more than likely very aware that a minute was probably not an apt time description. He did not disappoint. It took him almost half an hour to summarise his observations, worries, actions and the like.

“Say, about little Dmmt,” he finally asked, “didn’t we have this notice board in the creche where one could post requests or favours?”

“Indeed,” she agreed and he saw that she had caught on already. “You believe that while some of our resources are incredibly strained, others are under-utilised because the relevant people don’t talk to each other.”

“Aw, Bant, you have a much better way of phrasing this. If we could set something up like that, only bigger … how would you propose to do it?”

She had taken ownership of the project, much to Quinlan’s relief and had launched a platform, complete with virtual access, but also a notice board near the archives within the week. They called it the “Many Hands Project” and all Jedi were invited to post tasks there that could be carried out by others and open them for adoption. In return, those looking for tasks were encouraged to create a profile with their skills and what they were confident in helping with. Bant had developed a clever tagging system that would suggest Jedi matching the assignments as soon as the database would grow over time.

Quinlan felt incredibly proud as he took Dmmt to view the massive screen complete with terminal and helped them select a chore for supporting the starfighter maintenance group that pulled read outs from the ships and developed a repair schedule out of it.

While they were there, Ki-Adi Mundi had joined them and posted a research assignment on the current political climate of Vortex with the other planets in the Glythe sector. The councillor had a satisfied smile as the terminal matched him nearly immediately and Quinlan got the first impressed and respectful nod from him.

Chapter Text

After his success with Many Hands and knowing the legislation research safely with those more skilled and interested, Quinlan ran through his mental list of what he termed ‘Obi-Wan construction sites’. He knew that a significant amount of his friend’s time went into lobbying and fighting for the rights of the Clones. Considering that they neither got pay, choice or voting rights, Quinlan could understand his passion. Obi-Wan’s own stints in slavery – and to this day Quinlan could not get over the shudder that went through him at that thought – made him very sensitive to the topic and he worked tirelessly for a resolution.

There was no avoiding for him to go visit some politicians himself, but Quinlan thought it only appropriate to talk his ideas through with those it pertained so he joined one of the shuttles almost constantly going back and forth between the Temple and the Negotiator.

Commander Cody and Lieutenant Waxer were awaiting him in the hangar as they docked along with three more troopers, all of them fully armoured, but with their buckets off.

“General Vos, welcome back.” The Commander gave a quick, but proper salute and the rest of them followed as one. “May I introduce troopers Boil and Wooley, as well as our CMO Staples.” He gestured first to the one with a tidily kept moustache and a cool facade, then a visibly younger clone, the sides of his head closely shaved whereas the top hair grew wildly and wearing an almost cheeky smile. Obi-Wan had spoken of both frequently.

The third of them nodded politely, then folded their arms across the chest plate which was covered in little depictions of actual, well… staples. The same stylised item in the bright 212^th gold was in the form of two hairclips that held long, dark bangs back.

“Good morning all,” he returned the greeting. “Obi-Wan always speaks with such fondness of the 212^th, I am happy to meet more of you. But none of that general-stuff, I am as of now not holding any rank within the GAR, so feel free to call me Quinlan, or Knight Vos if that’s more comfortable.”

He saw how the troopers swelled with subtle pride as he mentioned Obi-Wan and couldn’t help but smile. He had the right people to tackle the stop-Obi-Wan-from-overworking-himself project. Well, it was a working title.

“Very well, Knight Vos, we have set up a meeting room, we can discuss the details there.” Of course Commander Cody ignored his offer for a more informal address, but he didn’t let it bother him and instead gestured for the to guide the way. He observed curiously as they walked through the halls of the venator-class star destroyer. It was a military ship, no question, but he could see where the troops had taken ownership of what basically amounted to their home through decorations like wall murals or posters.

Obi-Wan’s Force presence was tangible nearly everywhere, all warmth and gentleness and strength. As always, Quinlan soaked it up and he imagined even if they could not feel it like a Force-sensitive could, the clones certainly would benefit from the underlying sense of safety-protection-care. He wondered if his friend was actively feeding his presence into the ship’s atmosphere or if it was a natural by-product of all his time there.

The meeting room they arrived at was actually a ready room just off the bridge, with a large viewing port looking into space and a wide table that doubled as a holo-table with a cluster of chairs around it.

“I’m here today because of a couple of things, actually,” he began once they had all taken a seat. “First is what I already discussed with the commander, the fact that Obi-Wan is on the hyperspace lane to being overworked.” The worried faces around him reminded him that these people were more than aware of that.

“Tell me about it,” Staples offered. “Every time he is in my med bay I try to make the most of it, but there’s only so much I can do in the short time he’s there if he is determined to run himself into the ground outside of it.”

“Yeah,” Wooley agreed. “Staples kitted us out with supplement nutrients for him that we slip him whenever possible. She frets about his health more than about all of the rest of the GAR combined.”

“I commiserate, Staples,” Quinlan nodded along sagely, not at all fazed at the implication that Obi-Wan was fed secretly by his troops. “I noticed on my first visit how you always bring him food while he is focused on something else and I must say you did a remarkable job of not letting him turn into skin and bones again.”

“He came darn close in the beginning before we realised that he can compete with your average mouse droid for self-preservation instincts,” Staples grumbled.

“But I assume you do not want to exchange tactics on how to keep the General alive today.” Cody had crossed his arms, probably at the realisation that Obi-Wan’s rubbish eating habits went too far back to be effectively combated at the moment.

“Yes and no. I want to talk about ideas on how to reduce his workload. Which is after all the root of the problem.”

“You want to make him work less?” Boil asked disbelievingly. “No offence, sir, but how?”

“The trick is to suggest to Obi-Wan that by letting go of certain tasks that he will have more time for others.”

“But won’t he then simply find something else to do?”

“That’s why one has to offer him more light-weight alternatives. Reduce the admin-work, and instead convince him that doing recreational activities with the troops is beneficial for morale.”

Quinlan had the feeling that he had earned some of the 212^th’s respect in that moment.

“That could actually work…” Waxer mused.

“Of course he will catch on, so be on your toes. It’s important to be honest about it, and really mean it when saying that you believe something else is equally important even if it does not look like traditional work. Otherwise, he’ll feel babied. He’s a grown adult and can take care of himself, taking that away will only make him withdraw,” Quinlan elaborated further.

“Excuse the question, but you seem to have plenty of experience there.” All of the clones looked genuinely curious.

“Obi-Wan… he’s had a hard life. He survived a lot and I have spent much time in the aftermath of such events. Taking what he says seriously and not implying that you know better even though he had lived it is the key for him to accept help.”

“Do you have any suggestions on where we could start?” Wooley asked and Quinlan was glad he had prepared for this question.

“He does not have a yeoman, does he? Do you have someone, who is a natural at flimsi-work? Organising files, writing dossiers, scheduling and note taking?” he asked.

“Like a personal assistant almost?” Boil clarified and Quinlan nodded.

“We should consider Flash and Snowflake, Cody,” Staples offered. “They both were surprisingly effective at the last med-bay inventory and their reporting was impeccable. They could even run small errands or accompany him to the Jedi Temple  or the Senate during the day time.”

Quinlan was happy to see that they were approaching this with the same practicality that was so characteristic of them. He let them mutter amongst themselves for few more minutes and when the next natural lull in the conversation came up, he moved to his other topic.

“Second thing is the Clone Rights Bill.” He noticed how they all straightened in their chairs slightly. “Bad news is that it’s stalled. Well, that’s not new anymore I suppose. Fact is that the administration and the Senate are apparently employing a dodge and delay tactic, so in my opinion a strategy change is due to kick it up again.”

It was obviously a difficult topic for them and the tension in the room was more pronounced.

“Strategy change sounds logical when you put it like that, but which one would you propose,” Waxer asked. His dark eyes fixed on him, he had the eery stare down pat, Quinlan thought.

“What you need, is a representative on the political side,” he volunteered. “You will still need others to speak on your behalf, certainly. Obi-Wan has probably met with a good chunk of the Senate on your behalf alone,” here he could feel the flood of affection-tenderness-pride, all directed towards his friend, “but you also need to increase your own visibility. Those attempting to de-sentient you to the public will have a much harder time of it if you are around to contradict them.”

Commander Cody looked contemplative, very likely already considering the practical steps towards it as Quinlan outlined the ideas he had for what basically amounted to a clones-are-people-campaign, complete with introduction to individuals and their story as well as a political program for their people.

“Why has the General not tried that approach if it is expected to be more effective?” Wooley asked with a furrowed brow.

Quinlan chuckled. “I suppose the answer to that is simple. He is determined that he has failed you because the law still hasn’t changed and is now determined to not burden you with it. He genuinely believes your rights should be given because it is the correct thing, not because you fight the political battles.” He shrugged. “He wants to protect you.”

The emotional reactions to that statement by far eclipsed the previous fondness and especially the commander nearly floored Quinlan with the intensity of his devotion-protectiveness-caring.

“Of course he does,” Waxer murmured, a little helpless and Quinlan could emphasise. Getting Obi-Wan to share burdens was like pulling teeth on occasion, his sense of duty pressing him to take too many things on himself.

“We are ready to fight for our rights, but to be frank, we have very little experience and expertise in the political arena,” Cody finally steered the conversation back on track.

“Then it is very handy that the Jedi Order produces some of the finest diplomats in the galaxy isn’t it? I spoke with two masters, who are not able to go into the field anymore due to age and injury, but they have plenty of experience and would be delighted to function in some advisory capacity.”

The clones’ eyes had all widened a fraction and Quinlan’s hear hurt at the surprise they apparently still felt when nat-borns offered them help.

“How would something like that look like. The representation, I mean,” asked Boil.

“There are countless systems that other peoples employ, some cultures choose their leaders by election, others through combat and some inherit power. I am sure that Masters Kiwa’al and Mbaht would be happy to point you to resources where you can determine what fits the Vod'e.”

“It is something we will need to consider anyways,” Boil put in again. “I mean, once we are recognised as a people, we need to set up some sort of self-determined structure anyways, right?” He sounded slightly unsure, but Quinlan supposed that the concept of self-governance was hard to imagine in its details if one had only ever lived by the orders of others.

“Excellent point. It is much more beneficial if you are ready to go with procedures and responsibilities already in place.” He nodded at each of them. “I am sure it will still be a long road, I can offer you no guarantees, but I know the Jedi are committed to this and well, you have Obi-Wan on your side.”

That seemed to be a compelling argument. It spoke for Obi-Wan’s reputation among his troops that this was apparently all the assurance one could ever need.

Chapter Text

Ugh, the Archives again, Quinlan thought. He really needed to watch out for his image soon if it continued at this rate.

“Knight Vos, do you have any idea how much data you are asking for here?” Madam Nu looked decidedly unimpressed. “Never mind that this will contain potentially very sensitive and confidential information.”

“As to the scope of the data, I indeed have very little idea,” he admitted. “But this is why I have brought those two, who assured me that it is possible.” He pointed behind him where 212^th trooper Crys and tholothian EduCorps knight Sooka looked supremely uncomfortable under the scrutiny of the head archivist. “I have every faith in their abilities.”

Nu deflated a little. “Remind me again why I should give you access to the mission data of more than two decades with personal data of who knows how many individuals?”

“Madame Nu, I am sure you have realised the anti-Jedi sentiments strengthening. They call us war-mongering and power-hungry and are afraid of a power they don’t understand.” The look on her face soured. Of course she had heard. “We need allies and we need support. We need to identify potential sources for it and the best place to start is to find those we have worked with or potentially even helped in the past. And then present a different story.”

“This sounds very close to propaganda, Knight Vos,” she remarked, but he saw that he almost had her won over.

“It’s not about controlling the narrative. It’s simply about not giving it up completely to those seeking to harm us.”

“It’s a fine line, keep that in mind, but I agree that we are potentially compromising the security of those we send out into the field the more opinion of us deteriorates.” She sighed. “All right, you have the access and the permission to run your analysis. I do not give leave to use any result yet though, be warned. Develop a plan of approach, make some notes and suggestions and then speak to me again. I will arrange for a presentation in front of the High Council then.” Nu’s gaze met his very sharply. “You will not, and I repeat, not start any sort of Jedi-PR campaign without explicit sanction.”

He agreed easily, he had no intention to be the one to carry that part out anyways, he already had a few people in mind who would be much more suited and to be fair running such plans with their governing body which would be the first to be approached and questioned about it was not unreasonable.

Nu stared at him for a moment longer, as if deliberating the trustworthiness of his words and then retrieved a data access key, which she placed on the countertop between them. He picked it up carefully.

“Don’t abuse this, Vos,” she said in a voice that could almost be called a hiss and then retreated back into the depths of the Archives. He could have sworn she was muttering something about how it was inconceivable how anyone thought it responsible that he should be the one to make any decisions about the Jedi’s public image. Well, Quinlan would not disagree there.

Quinlan turned to his two compatriots. “So, looks like we’re in, let’s find you a place to set up,” he enthused and guided them towards one of the research pods, where they set up and connected to the terminal.

The data dump alone took forever, but meanwhile Crys, who was the 212^th’s best slicer and Sooka, who ran the data analytics society in the Temple talked him through the approach they had already hashed out. Quinlan had thought himself a decent hand with tech, but most of it went over his head so he focused on the results they hoped to garner.

Quinlan had not been lying when he stated that the current view of the galaxy of the Jedi was potentially dangerous to them. Obi-Wan had spent a lot of time in the field in an official Jedi role, and he himself had listened whenever people thought there was no Jedi around and neither of them were enthusiastic about the way the Jedi were perceived. They agreed that if they just carried on as now, they’d wake up one day to pitchforks and torches at the Temple doors, at least figuratively.

Their solution was what basically amounted to an image campaign. He had been remembering that wherever Obi-Wan went, he usually stumbled across someone he knew, someone who liked him and who would support him. There were so many people who benefitted from the Jedi’s work, but their stories often went unheard. They could utilise these things, Quinlan was sure of it.

But in order to convince anyone that they actually needed some form of media and image management, he needed proof. He needed hard solid facts, Obi-Wan had reminded him, statistics that rang warning bells.

“So,” he said at the end of Crys elaborations on potential algorithm structures, “can you do it?”

The Jedi and the clone exchanged a glance. “You bet we can,” Crys asserted.

Sooka nodded. “Give us a week.”

Chapter Text

Quinlan had the dubious honour to be present the first time Anakin saw Obi-Wan after his own visit to 500 Republica. It was awkward, as he expected, but as that meant that Skywalker was a lot less in-your-face during the debriefing than normal, he couldn’t regret the result. Obviously, the whole situation had some cogs turning in the young knight’s brain and he was still processing, but not lashing out today was something Quinlan had taken as a good sign.

He had tagged along to the meetings Aayla had mentioned where Obi-Wan assembled every Jedi General and all Clone Commanders from the 3^rd Systems Army. Its main purpose was overall coordination improvement during a more formally structured part in the beginning, but Obi-Wan had also included an open floor Q&A session at the end and after that, there was opportunity for mingling. Obviously, Obi-Wan knew a thing or two when it came to leadership, Quinlan thought.

He only listened with one ear as they reviewed a part of the current communication policy – boring – but as Obi-Wan addressed the topic of casualty rates to make a decision for either more frontline medics or on-ship surgeons, something tickled Quinlan’s brain.

“As you can see, we have the data of the various set-up which are currently running.” A massive screen behind Obi-Wan on the wall in the Temple lecture hall he used displayed a variety of statistics. “I have brought up the matter of Jedi MedCorps members being assigned to star destroyers to the relevant coordinators there, but besides them being spread thin, I also question the effectiveness,” he explained.

“A surgeon or a healer is all well and good on the ships, but in my opinion our med-evac is too ineffective for them to actually be utilised because it is often not something we can prioritise,” came from Kin Dame, a Jedi Master from Haashimut.

“That aligns with the story the data tells. The trial run we did with the 53^rd showed excellent recovery rates for those that reached the Tenacious, but we lost too many even before that.” Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair. He looked worn and frustrated for a moment before he visibly gathered himself.

“What would definitely pay off would be Force trained healers within each fleet. We could pick up our idea of the patient routing system based on the triage again,” suggested a clone commander that Quinlan did not know. “There are only a limited number of destroyers frequently alone, the rest are usually in groups. If there would be one of them with a med-bay specialised on severe trauma cases, we could direct evac there.”

“Excellent suggestion, Commander Batter. From what I remember, we already have most of the protocol ready to go, only the physical programming into the systems is still needed, correct? Though I recall there being a glitch in the code because of a conflict in the beta-script variables.”

Batter seemed surprised for a second that Obi-Wan could mention as many specific details. “That is correct, Sir. I spoke with the unit on it yesterday though and they believe they are close to fixing it.”

“That is good to hear.” Obi-Wan smiled genuinely at Batter and Quinlan was sure a lesser being would have blushed. “Then the next step would be nominations for suited destroyers for the heavy-duty med-bays.” Obi-Wan looked at his own datapad and was obviously gearing up for listing the necessary parameters.

“Sir, I think I might have the right person for that job,” Bly piped up from Aayla’s other side. “With permission, I will have Pareto draft a few scenarios based on different numbers of available MedCorps Jedi and evaluate expected benefit. He’s a wizard with modelling and I will sent it through for review then.”

Obi-Wan looked taken aback at the unprompted offer, but looked delighted still. “Certainly, Bly,” he agreed. “That will give us an excellent basis for implementation. Please thank Pareto for it, that is very helpful.”

Looking across the room, Quinlan saw how Cody looked on his fellow commander with approval and satisfaction and had the sudden realisation that the 212^th had enlisted more resources for Project Obi-Wan.

The rest of the meeting continued in the same vein and Aayla hummed contentedly next to him.

“Your efforts are bearing fruit,” she whispered, leaning towards him.

“How so?” he returned.

“Master Obi-Wan has until now only assigned himself a third of the tasks he on average takes on in these meetings.” She looked smug. “I know you approached the clones for that specifically, but even among the Jedi everyone is looking to think more about what they can do and volunteer for it. And doubly so when Obi-Wan is involved.”

Quinlan looked at her in astonishment, but she just smiled in a self-satisfied manner.

“And beyond that, it’s also a relief how quiet Anakin is today. Whatever you said to him obviously left a lasting impression,” she teased. “That, or RS-D2 has caught a virus again.”

Well, Quinlan had noticed how every now and then several attendants would sneak glances at Skywalker, leading him to conclude that his behaviour was atypical.

“I won’t hold my breath,” he whispered back. “But it would be a welcome development indeed.”

At the conclusion of the meeting, Quinlan joined his friend at the front of the room.

“Quinlan,” he greeted with a smile. “May I introduce you to Troopers Flash and Snowflake?” He gestured to two clones next to him, both with the distinctive markings in 212^th gold painted on their armour.

“Happy to meet you, I’m Quinlan Vos.” He smiled easily at them.

“The two of them have proven to be invaluable,” Obi-Wan praised. “Flash introduced a new tagging system to my data files and it is so much more accessible. He even went through all my old reports to put them in, so my cross-referencing is lightning quick now. And Snowflake is a genius with schedules, I must say. He also seems to know everyone in the GAR and then some, so can always tell me exactly who is responsible or my contact for specific topics.” Obi-Wan’s tone had a slightly gushing quality to it now and Quinlan gave the two clones an impressed look.

“That sounds excellent, I must say,” he affirmed, glad how quickly Obi-Wan had taken to the idea of getting admin support. Next to Snowflake, Cody looked positively smug.

When Obi-Wan excused himself and moved towards a group of commanders, Quinlan stepped up to Cody. “You work quickly,” he complimented.

“In the end it was easier than we thought. The General is amendable to any idea if he believes it helps us. It was only a question of convincing him to see it as an opportunity to expose the troops to a wider variety of assignment types and also freeing up more time for him to socialise with the shinies.” Cody’s eyes were fond as they followed his general around the room. Quinlan smiled.

“You’re right, he loves you.” He purposefully left it ambiguous and was gratified to see the tips of the commander’s ears turn red. “Well, I’m glad to see that my belief in your abilities was justified, always good to know him well cared for.” He briefly placed his hand on Cody’s shoulder and then moved away to join Obi-Wan.

He caught up with his friend just as he was finishing up with the contingent from the 89^th.

To his own surprise, it was Anakin who stepped up to them next.

“Obi-Wan, Knight Vos,” he greeted.

“Anakin, good to see you!” Obi-Wan, like always, smiled genuinely at his former padawan. “Excellent point earlier with the predictive maintenance, are you already employing it on the Resolute?”

Anakin seemed a lot less cocky than he normally would have been at the praise, but launched into an outline of his experiences to reduce unplanned downtimes. “Of course there’s little we can do concerning the ground equipment,” he finally concluded. “It is subjected to too many different elemental conditions, the approach needs to be quite different.”

Obi-Wan nodded thoughtfully. “Very true, I’m glad you are making the equipment status such a priority, it can make a significant difference when it comes to the safety of the troops.”

Anakin looked pleased that someone had understood the relevancy of his project. “It’ll be impossible to track the positive impact it has on casualty rates, but it should definitely help.”

At the mention of the rates, Obi-Wan’s shoulders slumped as his gaze returned to the wall screen where the numbers were still up.

“From what I have seen, the 3^rd has the lowest rates compared to all the other systems armies, despite being on more missions than most, there’s a lot you are doing right, Obi-Wan.” Quinlan put a hand on his friend’s arms in the hopes of interrupting the spiral.

“I just feel there is a lot we are not doing despite having all those numbers,” he explained. “But most of them are difficult to compare. Starting with the leadership style the specific Jedi employs. For example you approach combat much differently than I do, Anakin.”

Anakin bristled, but then – to Quinlan’s astonishment – seemed to reign himself in. “Could you explain that further?” he instead asked.

“Oh, of course, you’re much more hands-off with the ground movements. You often play your strength of being a brilliant pilot where an arial assault makes all the difference. That means you cannot follow as closely on the ground and leave more of these decisions to Captain Rex. And when you are joining on the ground you are always at the front and less behind lines in a coordinating function.”

“But you also run attacks with the 212^th from the frontlines.” Anakin looked honestly confused.

“Certainly, but I frequently move into an overview position, leaving the lead of frontal assault to Cody so that I can look at the overall developments and reorganise where needed. It is also beneficial as I am often commanding more than the 212^th.

“It’s why we were so effective together, when you were still a Padawan, because we both could focus on what we each did best. I could trust you to be the heavy-duty strike force and I could help that you would be in the potentially most impactful position on the battlefield.” He sounded wistful and stared off into the distance.

Quinlan saw how Anakin swallowed, obviously viewing that time in a different light now. Maybe the Kenobi-Skywalker team could rebuild their trust.

“But if that is the case,” Anakin noted, seemingly having recovered, “then shouldn’t there also be ones better or worse suited to specific mission parameters?” he asked thoughtfully.

“You mean, should we be more careful in who we assign to what assignment? Certainly, Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s agreement came easily, obviously suddenly very focused on what seemed to be going through Skywalker’s head.

“So if we could develop a profile for each Jedi, effectiveness and efficiency, weighed against strength of opposition, type of combat, etcetera… then we should be able to play our strengths much better, right?”

“And recognise our weaknesses earlier,” Quinlan added darkly.

Obi-Wan hummed in agreement. “Yes, I would concur, but as I already mentioned, there are quite a few variables which make comparisons difficult. A campaign on muddy ground always goes worse than one on stable and dry earth.”

“Refining it can come later,” Anakin mumbled. “Maybe we don’t even need that detailed of a picture, just a general cluster that will give us attention points. Master, I believe I might be onto something.” Quinlan did not miss the old address slipping through.

Obi-Wan grasped him by his upper arms. “I know Anakin, I see it. You go follow your hunch,” he said with gentle encouragement.

That seemed to be all the younger Jedi needed and he was almost immediately out of the room.

Obi-Wan turned to Quinlan with a fond smile. “He has his moments, doesn’t he?”

Quinlan was inclined to agree, feeling lighter himself.

Chapter Text

“Hey Obi-Wan, what’s up with the long face?” Quinlan joked as he approached Obi-Wan where he stood in the middle of the training salle, staring straight ahead at the wall as if it had personally offended him.

“Nothing bad, per se…” he answered unhelpfully and Quinlan knew that tone.

“Good to hear, but it doesn’t sound quite as reassuring as you were intending.” He bumped his shoulder against his friend’s and got a wry smile in return.

“Are you up for a spar?”

“Oh, it must be really bad if you actually require working through your frustrations by wiping the floor with this poor shadow.”

“Is that a yes?”

Quinlan chuckled, Obi-Wan could be relentless, but thankfully, Quinlan was more than up for it. “Sure, why not. Are you working on anything in particular?” he asked as they both made their way of to the bench at one of the sides to put down their robes and outer tunic.

“I’ve been studying Makashi in case I have the pleasure of running into my dear Grandmaster again soon,” Obi-Wan offered and Quinlan couldn’t help the slight shudder that went through him at the thought of Obi-Wan ending up in a confrontation with Dooku again.

“You’re not likely to beat him at his own game, you know?” he said instead, releasing his worries in the Force.

“Oh certainly not, I would never actually use it. It’s more of an effort to understand it better and see how it works against different styles.” Obi-Wan moved to the centre of the room again and started going through a standard warm-up kata. “There are very few Jedi who practice it nowadays so my opportunity to go against a master are few. I’ve been meeting with Cin, but he suggested the know your enemy approach since I’m so frequently away from the Temple.”

“Sounds like solid advice.” Quinlan observed the rhythm his friend had picked and at the next return to the opening stance joined him in the movements. “Or maybe you just want the bragging rights of becoming proficient at yet another form,” he teased.

“Hmpfh, no thank you. If I wanted a mastery in my repertoire I’d go for Jar’Kai, if only to get Cody off my case about losing my lightsabre since I’d still carry a second one.”

Quinlan laughed out loud at that. Waxer’s description of Cody raising the eyebrow of doom at Obi-Wan when he handed back the sabre after one of the ground campaigns had been hilarious when he had heard it last week on the Negotiator, but Obi-Wan referencing the situation in such a way was just golden.

“Your kyber certainly is enthusiastic to spend time with the commander, I must say,” he teased and was rewarded with a slight flush rising to Obi-Wan’s cheeks. He took pity on him though, and moved the conversation back to lightsabre combat. “Jar’Kai also would have the added benefit of having another blade to block when inevitably the coughing trashcan starts going all lawnmower on you again.”

“That is true. Though I have to admit the double grip is often necessary, my arms are unfortunately not able to rely on extra mechanical strength when Grievous starts hacking at me.”

“Honestly Obi-Wan, you need to review who gets a membership for your fan club.” Obi-Wan shot him a decidedly non-impressed look and they both finished up their katas, moving into opening positions.

Their spar started out tentative for a moment, but Quinlan never really had been one to hold back for long and amped up the intensity once he had ensured even with a foreign form, Obi-Wan was no pushover. He knew what he was doing with Form II, his execution of the movements elegant enough to put him in the proficient category. Especially against a more tidy form, he’d likely perform very well.

Quinlan himself though practiced Form V and its powerful and aggressive style was making his friend work hard as the motions were not as internalised. The tight bladework and efficiency of Makashi’s nature came easy for a practitioner of Soresu as Obi-Wan was. But where he would normally face opposition with blocks and turning himself into a wall of blue, Makashi had a slightly different focus, being much more fluid.

They continued back and forth for quite a while, neither really getting the upper hand though it was becoming apparent that Obi-Wan had a difficult time sticking to Makashi as the speed increased further. It was a bit as if he had to consciously decide on a movement, a point he was already way beyond in both Ataru and Soresu.

In the end, Quinlan made use of the slightly slower reactions than normal and the millisecond that Quinlan termed a thinking-pause, and crowded into Obi-Wan’s space aggressively, the evasive movement lagging just slightly too much. His friend lost his sabre as he scrambled to counter, and Quinlan’s blade came to a halt at his neck.

“Solah,” Obi-Wan breathed and Quinlan lowered his sabre, impressed despite his win.

“Not bad for a few months of study, but I repeat my advice. Using it against Dooku would be suicidal.” He meant it, but also knew that if this was what Obi-Wan had achieved since his first encounter with Dooku only about a year ago, he’d very quickly reach the point where he’d reap the benefits of Form II. It did not rely on strength, but in order to counter the particularly aggressive moves of Djem So, the footwork and manoeuvring had to be particularly precise. When in doubt, Obi-Wan still tended to engage a strike, whereas a master of Makashi would let their opponent run into empty air.

“No question about that,” Obi-Wan agreed easily, never one to overestimate his own skill – usually more the opposite. “But I’m learning why going against him always feels more like catching a particularly slippery sea creature.”

“You saying that to his face?” Quinlan asked and the both giggled at the offended expression they imagined at that. They both moved over to the bench and the refreshment terminal which was a staple in any training room to get a drink of water.

“Feeling better?” he asked as they both settled on the bench.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. “Thank you, Quin.”

“Hey, if all you needed was to lose at a duel, call me anytime,” he joked, but the grew serious. “So what had you in a twist?”

Obi-Wan heaved a sigh. “They called me to the High Council.”

“I assume you don’t mean to report on a mission.” Quinlan just wanted to make extra sure, also he thought it’d be beneficial for Obi-Wan to spell it out.

“No. As in they called me to join them as a councillor.” His friend had a faraway look on his face.

“So you finally got the squishy armchair that had your name on it for ages?” He got a dry look in return for that, which was fair.

“I know there had been rumours about it. I am not oblivious to what some were saying. But still, a part of me was, is convinced that there would have been other, better choices. I mean, what do I even know about being a council member?”

Quinlan was pleased to see that while there were the usual Kenobi-self-doubts surfacing, he did not outright deny his suitability. “Well, there’s no Jedi who is called in an advisory function as much as you are already, sometimes felt like you were living in that chamber already anyways, so isn’t it nice that they at least let you sit down now?” He did not voice his suspicion that Obi-Wan had been nominated the moment Even Piell had passed and only the traditional mourning time prevented them to make it official.

“I suppose it did get old to stand around so much,” Obi-Wan admitted.

“So when do you start?”

“There are still three weeks left of the seat being in stasis, but they wanted to give me a heads-up and I can familiarise myself with procedures and will get access to the database soon.” He fell silent and contemplative again, before slightly shaking himself. “A seat on the High Council, Qui-Gon would have a heart attack,” Obi-Wan joked, finally having regained his equanimity.

“You know, I think even nothing-can-please-me-Jinn would feel proud.” Quinlan personally couldn’t care less what the bantha-brained hypocrite would have thought, but he knew Obi-Wan had loved his master dearly. “But still Obi-Wan, I think you are an excellent choice and just about every Jedi can see that.”

Obi-Wan gave him the fond and grateful look that never failed to make Quinlan’s insides warm pleasantly. They soaked up the peaceful atmosphere a moment longer and then Obi-Wan visibly re-entered a more business-y frame of mind. “So now that we have my little existential crisis out of the way, what did you find me for earlier?”

Ah yes, that was much less good news, Quinlan thought. “Remember when we spoke about the new legislation?”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes, you enlisted the help of the PolSci-Club. Stroke of genius on your part, I must say, I get a daily dossier on any new law, complete with impact analysis. Searst outdid herself,” he praised.

“And would you say that your suspicion that not all of them are as helpful or well-intended as they appear at first glance held true?”

The dark expression crossing Obi-Wan’s face was answer enough. “Unfortunately yes. Some of it is hard to justify, even if you assumed simply best intentions gone awry.”

“That’s what Mo’fey said to me as well. She gave me a quick rundown of their overarching analysis results and Obi-Wan, this is big.” His sincere worry deepened the lines on Obi-Wan’s forehead and he pulled out a pad that contained the super-summary of the research and handed it to his friend. Obi-Wan’s eyebrows climbed higher as he skimmed the description of the dynamics and potentially detrimental synergies of the current developments.

“You’re right. We need to bring this to attention with the right people,” he mused.

“What would you suggest?” Quinlan was not a big strategic thinker, that’s what he had Obi-Wan for after all and he already could hear the cogs turning.

“The High Council certainly, but we can do very little as Jedi in the current political climate. It would be seen as destabilising and amount to nothing.” He crossed his arms, uncrossed them, stroked his beard and frowned. It was almost adorable if the situation weren’t as serious. “We need to be careful about this so that we are not identified as the source, but this has to get to the right senators.”

“And certainly there’s enough here that warrants increased shadow attention on the chancellor’s office, right?” Quinlan probed.

Obi-Wan looked at him in an assessing manner. “You feel as uncomfortable around Palpatine as I do, I presume?” he asked, his voice purposefully light.

Quinlan only gave a short nod, years of friendship meant he did not have to elaborate.

“Speak with Master Tholme,” Obi-Wan agreed. “This is more than enough. I will bring it before the council off-the-record, but I think we need to take a trip to the Senate soon.”

Quinlan groaned. Obi-Wan just grinned at his dramatics despite the situation.

“I have observed how those of the Loyalist Committee are increasingly organising themselves independently of the chancellor. I will steer clear of Orn Free Taa – he is much too busy profiting from the war to do something about it - but Senators Organa, Amidala and Aak should be receptive. Outside of it, I think speaking with Senators Mothma and Chuchi would be helpful to reach those unaffiliated to a faction yet.”

“Can you be sure that none of those report back to Palpatine? I mean wasn’t Ask Aak one of the loudest voices for the Clone Army and didn’t he also speak for the Trade Federation during the Naboo crisis?”

“Very true, but things have changed since then. Recently, I had the pleasure of accompanying him on a diplomatic mission and I think he felt that war close up was a lot different than what he imagnined in the Senate Chamber.” Quinlan could tell that his friend was purposefully vague, which spiked his curiosity.

“You won him over? He was always one of the harshest critics of the Jedi.” Quinlan knew that Obi-Wan had a gift for “recruitment”, but Aak was not normally one to sway from his point of view as far as Quinlan knew.

“He’s a being of action, and took to the strong leadership and promises that Palpatine represented, but I noticed him becoming increasingly disillusioned. The seed of scepticism is already there and if we could advance that further, he would be a strategic in with a part of the Senate that we otherwise won’t reach.”

“I don’t doubt that you know what you’re doing. I will of course join you for any of it if you believe me to be helpful, but maybe Mo’fey would be a better choice.”

“Oh, I will certainly ask her, but Quinlan, there is no situation where having you at my side is not an advantage.”

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan’s schedule wizard Snowflake had sent Quinlan the meeting details for their trip to the Senate the next day, but beforehand, there were two other important appointment on the shadow’s list. The first one was the result presentation that Madame Nu had arranged before the High Council.

Crys and Sooka had not disappointed, they got preliminary workable conclusions back to him within five days and before the agreed upon week was out, he had more statistics than he could ever want, which he immediately selected the key ones of and sent them on to Obi-Wan.

Since he had expected such an outcome, he had also gone ahead and recruited some brainpower for the Jedi PR. He had approached the Media Club first, and then brought them into contact with the Galactic Diplomacy Society and the Interspecies-Relations Thinktank. Over the last couple of weeks, they had developed at least ten different concepts, approaching several branches of the wider Jedi Order for ideas and contributions for ideas and had even pulled outside contacts specialising in branding, marketing and communications.

The result had floored Quinlan, they had thought of everything and then some.

It started with suggestion for the set-up of a holo-net channel for the Order, where one corps would be featured each week. Individuals would be introducing their daily lives, from the work they did to their leisure activities.

Of course everyone knew about the Hero with no Fear or the Negotiator, but a more evened out reporting of the various frontline Jedi could advertise their large variety of species in service, appealing to different origins and demographics. It also would have the additional benefit of more Jedi getting media attention than just those two, resulting in Obi-Wan having to spend less time in front of a camera, which was a win in Quinlan’s book.

Of course missions needed to be treated sensitively, but the project team as a whole expected that as soon as the media attention in general went up, more individuals would step forward to talk about their experiences with the Jedi.

Research had quickly revealed a staggering number of literature and other media on the topic of Jedi, from academic research papers to fictional adventure novels. The suggestions to do a review series and doing some fact-checking for public amusement was very successful in the task force as it would also naturally draw the attention of the original audience and their peers. That also prompted the decision to be more proactive in publishing information material about Jedi history and culture or seek to join some panel discussions at the Coruscant University.

Then, there was the idea of something akin to a fair on the large plaza in front of the Temple, complete with crafting workshops and entertainment for younglings. Quinlan would not suggest it, but he had a friend who had once made a Yoda-plushie and was certain they would be very successful, but alas, he would not sell Kia out like that so sadly the ide would probably never go beyond him and Obi-Wan laughing about it over tea.

Quinlan was reasonably sure the council would draw the line at some of their members joining a game show, but the idea of Yoda being on that word quiz thing-y everyone seemed to rave about or Windu doing charades would keep Quinlan entertained for years. Maybe they’d convince Mundi for the late-night show, he had the dry humour for it.

As his contingent of representatives of the team, along with Sooka and Crys entered the chamber, Quinlan’s gaze travelled to the empty chair left by Master Piell and he wished that Obi-Wan was already in that chair and there to support him this meeting. Of course, Obi-Wan had spent several hours with him and the team going over data and arguments, but in the end it had been decided that he would not attend as part of the presenting delegation. They needed his leverage more for another potentially very controversial topic and if this fell through, Obi-Wan was still untainted so to speak.

Quinlan gave a brief introduction and then handed over to the presenters from the task force and let them outline the various measures they would suggest and the expected benefits. Knight Sooka and Trooper Crys supplemented this occasionally with their data analysis and how to feasibly implement some of the communications aspect behind it. Quinlan was incredibly proud of all their effort though he still felt the sceptical atmosphere in the room.

“Thank you very much for this presentation,” Windu said when they had concluded. “We see that these are well thought out concepts indeed.” Quinlan felt the but coming already. “But” – aha! – “I am doubting it’s actual necessity or even what our motivation for it would be.”

Of course Quinlan was prepared for that question and answered it extensively, but he felt his patience thinning as more council members joined Windu in protest against such an ambitious project.

He did not possess the same control Obi-Wan did and after almost half an hour of back and forth, he lost his diplomat-voice. “Everyone publishes their random, useless shit on the holo-net-“

“Language, Knight Vos,” Windu interrupted.

Quinlan continued, “but we are not making use of any of it. We have so much going for us, all those humanitarian missions, successful treaty mediations, heck, even the fact that we are an example of successful species integration within one community is noteworthy.”

“We are not doing these things to profit from them,” Master Allie pointed out.

“No, we don’t, but letting them fade into obscurity is actively hindering us from doing it to the best of our ability,” he pointed out.

“Elaborate that, please,”

“We looked into the numbers from the Search first and those not wishing to give their children to the Jedi has been increasing in the last fifty years, but never more so than today,” Sooka stepped in and pulled up the data on the screen. “We as a people are growing smaller and smaller and this is stretching us thin beyond even the war.

“Next, we analysed mission parameters. First, we are contacted less for peaceful negotiations than before, often only as a last resort because others are reluctant to get us involved.”

“And then there is the sentiment during missions,” Crys jumped in and Quinlan knew he had the most compelling set of statistics. Obviously he and Sooka had practiced this argument beforehand. “It is difficult to find, because most reports do not log it, but there are certain indicators. One is the number of occasions that preliminary mission briefs contained wrong information, then how often information was held back once the Jedi team arrived. We have also found a few other indicators of opposition to Jedi presence – from uncooperative behaviour to verbalised prejudices - and finally we modelled the occurrences of violence against the Jedi.”

With a rather dramatic hand gesture – yes, definitely practiced – Crys released the statistics for viewing.

The reaction of the room did not disappoint. Jedi Councillors were masters of emotional reaction control, both physical and in the Force so the shocked looks and exchange of worried glances was the equivalent to non-Jedi screams of outrage and fist shaking.

“This …” – Master Mundi was very obviously fighting for words – “this is alarming,” he finally settled on.

Quinlan had been much the same when he and Obi-Wan had first listened to the analytics shown to them.

“Yes, Master, this is why we are also proposing to feed this data into a tool that will be accessible to the Jedi in the field. The idea is to make experiences, names and political and social climates available to them before their arrival or during the carrying out of a mission. We collect a staggering amount of data with our reporting policies, but if a Jedi has been to a place before, the next one to go almost never will hear of it, let alone learn from them and profit from their experience. Running a contact network would help us to connect with fellow Jedi, or even give us names to look out for – good and bad both.”

“Tell me,” Master Allie said into the silence that had developed, “what you propose, do you honestly believe that it will make a difference for the better?” She did not sound accusatory, more curious so he nodded seriously.

“I do,” he simply said. All his arguments had been brought forward, there was nothing more to add and his sincere conviction seemed to satisfy her.

“Then I put my trust in you,” she asserted. She set her shoulders determinedly. “Fellow Councillors, the numbers are before us, there is no denying that especially with this war, but even before our situation has become more tenuous. We have the means to act before it escalates, let us not waste this opportunity. I move that we sanction the formation of a Jedi Communications Department.”

Safe to say, the council was a lot more receptive after that wake-up call and Allie’s impassioned plea. When Obi-Wan joined the task force and the analysts later in the evening for celebratory drinks in the refectory, his proud smile as his gaze travelled over the assembled Jedi and Clones was blinding.

Chapter Text

“Milady, we have uncovered information that I believe is important for you to have. Of vital importance. Unfortunately, we cannot share it without ascertaining that you will never reveal where you got it from.” Quinlan and Obi-Wan had finally made the journey to the Senate and the Negotiator was just introducing the topic to the Nubian Senator.

Obi-Wan had always ascertained that Padmé Amidala was one of the few politicians of uncompromising integrity. Quinlan had his doubts. Therefore he had actually managed to wrangle Obi-Wan into making her swear her to silence as to the origin of her information, even towards her husband (Obi-Wan had explained that they had actually married almost directly after Geonosis). And to top it off, he talked Obi-Wan to be the one to convince her. That was how they found themselves in the Senate offices of the Nubian delegation, with Quinlan watching as his friend worked his magic.

“Did you obtain it through illegal means?” she asked.

“Not at all. Its explosive force lies in its existence itself, not in its origin.”

“Then of course you have my secrecy.”

Obi-Wan looked at her with those big blue eyes of his. “It grieves me to ask for more than this.” He looked to the ground, then up again. “You cannot tell Anakin, Padmé. I need your word on this.”

Colour rose to her cheeks though Quinlan could feel through the Force that it was more indignation than embarrassment. “I am disappointed that you would doubt my word.” Her bearing was as regal as if she were still a queen and a lesser person than Obi-Wan would have quelled under her flinty gaze.

His friend though held her eyes. “Have I no grounds to ask for additional reassurance?”

Ouch, Quinlan thought. If he wanted, Obi-Wan could be vicious. Amidala actually flinched and averted her gaze.

“You knew the whole time?” she asked in a small voice and they all knew what she was talking about.

“Padmé,” he sighed exasperatedly, “most Jedi are trained to be not only diplomats or guardians, we are also investigators, conflict mediators, or spies. It is our job to notice things, be aware of our surroundings. Most of us are naturally empathetic. How could I not know?” His voice was a heart-breaking mix of disbelief and hurt. “For a long time I thought that you both were aware that I knew and it was your way of telling me to stay out of your business.”

Padmé’s head shot up. “Obi-Wan, we would never …” She seemed to realise the hypocrisy of whatever she would have ended the sentence with and fell silent.

“Listen Padmé, I am not here to make you uncomfortable, as I said, this is about the information we need to give you, not your marriage.”

His dismissal of the Skywalker topic seemed to cut the Senator as much as the discussion of it itself, as if Obi-Wan did not see the sense to discuss it and had given up on their friendship. To her credit, Amidala composed herself and looked sincerely at him.

“Obi-Wan, you have my word that I will not tell Anakin or anyone else without your explicit leave to do so.”

“Even if he asks?” Quinlan ascertained. He had no qualms about pushing a bit.

“Even if he asks, pleads or begs. The source will be a secret,” she promised looking him into his eyes as well. "Maybe this can be the way I can rebuild your trust in me."

Obi-Wan smiled at her. “Very well, thank you, milady. You see, the main reason you cannot tell Anakin is because this must not make its way to the Chancellor.”

This seemed to make her sit up, a spark of understanding in her eyes. “I’m listening.”

“Sure you don’t want me to bug her apartment just to be sure?” Quinlan asked only half-jokingly as they made the trek to the next office.

“No, that will be quite unnecessary,” Obi-Wan smiled slightly and raised a hand in greeting at Mo-fey who stood waiting at a corner. She had not accompanied them to Amidala with good reason, but had agreed to meet up with them for the second meeting with the representatives from the Humanitarian Interest Group.

Under the guise of an aid mission coordination meeting, they would meet with five Senators in the Chandrilan office, which was fortunately not far from where they were currently.

“Hello Searst,” Obi-Wan greeted as she fell in step with them.

“Obi-Wan, Vos,” she returned curtly. “Did the meeting with Senator Amidala go well?”

“As well as I hoped,” Obi-Wan affirmed. “I do not believe the next senators to underestimate the significance of your findings either.”

Mo’fey’s fur rippled in appreciation. “I speak for all those who worked on it that this is gratifying to hear.”

When they arrived, Mon Mothma greeted them herself, dressed in a long, flowing white robe as was her trademark. It only took a few more minutes for the rest of the senators to arrive, the only one Quinlan knew personally being Bail Organa from Alderaan. Obi-Wan slipped into his consummate politician role with just enough personality shining through to make Quinlan aware that he was genuine.

He was introduced to the Rodian Senator Onaconda Farr, who he was slightly surprised to see there. The senator had briefly sided with the Trade Federation, falling for the promises of safety and protection, but their betrayal had placed Rodia firmly in the Republic’s camp. Still, he wondered that he was accepted into the fold of these generally principled politicians assembled here today.

But from the chatter Quinlan had heard, Senator Kin Robb, who was also in attendance could be attributed to that. She was not affiliated to any faction and many assumed that Taris being located in the Outer Rim made her more sympathetic to the very real and practical concerns of these planets. The lack of many of these issues allowed planets like Chandrilla and Alderaan the moral high ground often enough (even if those two in particular were too noble to take it) and alienated the core, mid-rim and outer-rim territories often in the Senate and it was good to see this cooperation between the various areas of the Galaxy.

The party was rounded out by Senator Chuchi of Pantora, another Outer-Rim World. It seemed Obi-Wan had chosen very well when it came to the strategic spreading of the information.

After the regular small-talk that preceded anything constructive with politicians, Mo’fey took point in the no-nonsense attitude of hers and walked the assembled through her findings in the current legislation. She had obviously taken care to include certain points that would pertain to each world represented today and the effect was noticeable.

“All the imbalance already in the current system,” she intoned, “will only be amplified by each of those laws. Access to bacta will be limited in the Outer Rim as production permission will only be awarded to those with pre-established networks. What is supposed to increase social mobility will only result in making the waters more murky concerning slavery. If you look at these examples,” – she gestured at the information projected into the room – “you can imagine how the procedure for investment vetting clearly favours large conglomerates.”

After her presentation, the senators contemplated silently for a moment and the Jedi let them sort through the data on their own for a bit.

Finally, Robb spoke up. “Many of us have had similar feelings in the past year, but this is an exceptional piece of research as it reveals the inter-relatedness of many new laws to form something sinister. It is as we have suspected and feared. The Chancellor, or whoever is pulling his strings does have no inclination for a peaceful resolution.”

“The degree much of it seems to favour humans or near-humans very subtly is worrying,” Farr added, his green skin flushed.

“The Supreme Chancellor has been hogging power for years now and these laws show his true colours,” Chuchi agreed.

The room fell silent.

“Master Jedi, you have brought this to us with a purpose, what would you suggest?” Organa asked and Quinlan knew that this was a finnicky moment.

“We as Jedi stand for equality and peace for all species and worlds. We see direct opposition to this idea in many of the legislation published, but with our involvement in the war, together with our increasingly tenuous position in the public eye, we are in a position which makes it impossible to act on our realisations as we would like. Not to mention that the source of this data is now almost guaranteed to discredit its conclusions.” Obi-Wan sounded shattered by that last point and Mo’fey’s fur betrayed her agitation.

“We owe it to democracy, which we have sworn to defend to enable those who wish to do the same,” she backed him up.

“We are addressing these concerns and believe me, the Jedi will support those who speak against injustice.” There was fire in Obi-Wan’s eyes. “We just currently cannot afford to discredit the campaign by being its originator. We need to be practical.”

“I see, you want us to get the formal process started,” Mothma said.

“We appreciate what you risked in trusting us here, Obi-Wan, Knight Vos, Knight Mo’fey,” Bail said sombrely. “We will do our best to do right by this,” he promised.

“Indeed, you have given us invaluable ammunition, don’t sell your efforts short” Robb was quick to agree. “We understand your position and we will take it to the next level.” She seemed to think for a moment. “We should also approach Senators Jakker-Sun, Dantum Roohd, and Zinn Paulness. We will need the numbers in the long run.”

“I suggest to pick one piece of legislation at a time and gather support to repeal it. If the process repeats often enough, the other senators will see a pattern as well and will more naturally be inclined to be critical of the Chancellor’s doings.” Obi-Wan was obviously in his element and Mo’fey was not far behind.

“Exactly, I expect it to be a slow process, but it will erode trust in the current government’s justness just as they have destroyed trust in democracy," she encouraged.

“It does help that there are suspiciously few profiteers in this and they all seem to be connected to Palpatine’s closest circle,” Farr almost spat out.

“Thank you for your willingness to listen and act, my friends,” Obi-Wan finally concluded as they rose. “Be careful though, and consider increasing security, especially to improve data-security. These are sinister times and many would jump quickly to call this treason instead of the democratic process it is.”

“Wise advice, we will take care,” Mothma promised and everyone got up as well. “I will send everyone the minutes of today’s aid committee meeting for signing of course, thank you for taking such interest in these matters,” she closed with a mischievous smile.

The meeting with Ask Aak had a decidedly different vibe. Obi-Wan seemed quite sure of their welcome, but Quinlan could feel his own uncertainty reflected in the Bothan knight as she wished them much success and said her goodbyes. Obi-Wan and Quinlan remained and were shown into a spacious office by an aide.

Along with the Senator of Malastare sat two more Gran, Senator Philo of Hok and Senator Kharrus from Kinyen, the latter being the original homeworld of the Gran species though they had colonised other worlds a long time ago. To the detriment of the original inhabitants quite often, Quinlan thought drily.

“Master Kenobi, welcome,” Aak greeted cordially, more so than Quinlan had ever heard him speak towards any Jedi.

“Senator Aak, Senator Philo and Senator Kharrus.” Obi-Wan sketched a polite bow. “May I introduce Knight Vos?”

“A pleasure,” Aak, who obviously was the spokesperson, ascertained, two of his eyes scanning Quinlan with interest while one remained on Obi-Wan. “Please,” he offered and they all took seats.

“Your aide advised me that this was about a GAR refueling station on Malastare, but the presence of your fellow Jedi leads me to believe differently. As well as the fact that you asked me to invite Kharrus and Philo here.”

“You are correct, Senator, while that is certainly an important topic, I have included all important details and specifications on this datapad which you are welcome to review at your leisure.” Obi-Wan handed over a pad that was placed on a stack on a side table without a second glance.

“This –“ and he produced another three pads “- is why I am here. It contains a review of recent legislation and I am sure you will not fail to understand its implications. My condition is for the Jedi’s role in the analysis’ origin to not be mentioned.” Quinlan noted how Obi-Wan did not ask for secrecy in the same manner as he did before, probably recognizing it as futile in the long run and more importantly that the Gran would perceive it as a weakness.

Senator Philo gave an affirmative noise and all three senators scanned the document. Quinlan had made sure that the most interesting points for them were at the beginning and felt smug at the proof that they were unsettled by it. Their only revealing tell was a fluttering of their lower set of ears.

“Very well, Master Kenobi. This is indeed invaluable information and we will act accordingly.” Aak seemed to deliberate for a moment. “When you said on our mission to Varkana that you would like to form a constructive partnership, I must admit I did not expect much to come of it. You are either too trusting, Jedi, or you have read me rather well.”

“I do not believe you unsympathetic to the suffering of those affected by the war, but most of all, I know you are not willing to risk your own power through short-sighted and selfish behavior, Senator.” Quinlan held his breath at that bold proclamation by his friend, but to his surprise, Aak gave off the wheezing that signaled the Gran’s laughter.

“I own it, I am opportunistic,” he rumbled. “You, Kenobi, would have made a terrific politician.” Obi-Wan inclined his head. “For your trust, I want to give you something in return. I cannot imagine that these results have not prompted your own internal investigation.”

Obi-Wan smile blandly. “Of course, I can neither confirm or deny this.”

Aak seemed more amused by this than offended. “Certainly. But if I were to hint that looking closer into the finance network around Orn Free Taa ..?” He let the sentence hand in the air.

“Then we would do our due diligence in reaction to a concerned citizen of the Republic, Senator,” Quinlan completed with a vicious grin that Aak returned.

“I see,” the senator continued, still with a tone as if speaking of the weather, but his three eyes were both sharply on the Jedi. “Then maybe by-the-by, I would offhandedly mention that  I was also approached by a Muun who revealed themselves to me as a member of the Banking Clan. You can imagine that I was promised some lucrative deals for moving Malastare to leave the Republic.” He paused dramatically, obviously having more information still.

His counterpart from Hok took over. “Both Kharrus and I were contacted similarly, with the same purpose, but there is one thing I never mentioned. I had seen them before. That Muun was in the presence of our esteemed Chancellor from our observations at least four times.” There was a brief moment of silence and Quinlan realized that they might have stumbled upon a beskar mine.

“What did you give that representative for an answer?” Obi-Wan inquired. “I assume you did not decline.”

“Yes, that would have been short-sighted,” Kharrus agreed. “We referenced internal power-struggles as the reason we could not take direct action, but were receptive and would start moving slowly where we could.” He appeared disgusted by how easily led that Muun had been.

“In my experience,” Obi-Wan said carefully, “it is difficult for many Muun to imagine that money could not be enough as an incentive for anyone.”

“The way this war is going and from what I know of the Separatist leadership, you would pay for that money with your influence and self-governance. My contacts assure me that Dooku and his elusive master rule with an iron fist and those expecting independence and power found themselves reduced to little more than cogs in a machine, even on their own home-worlds,” Quinlan added and could see that the Garn already knew similar things.

“Nothing wrong with greed,” Philo mused, “but if it makes you stupid, you’ll only have less than what you started out with.”

Of course, neither Jedi could get behind such a statement, but oddly it was reassuring that their instinct for survival and political influence would keep them out of the Sith’s grasp. Quinlan would have had a harder time trusting their word or their morals.

Aak slid a data-chip towards Quinlan. “This is what we collectively know about that Muun. It might give you a starting point to figure out how the Chancellor’s office is connected to all that.”

“We thank you for this,” Obi-Wan intoned and wrapped up the meeting quickly afterwards.

“This must be one of your finest pieces of diplomacy, Obes,” Quinlan remarked as the two Jedi sat in the speeder back to the Temple.

“The Chancellor overreached, today’s success was more due to his wrong reading of the situation than any action on our part. And we cannot forget that Aak’s loyalty will only go as far as it benefits him.  He will reveal us as the data source at some point, but not before it has been circulated sufficiently and done as we hope.”

“Of course, though I must say, he genuinely seemed to like you. Shall I send him a Kenobi-Fan-Club invite?” he teased and was rewarded with an eyeroll.

“If there ever were such a club – which I sincerely hope there isn’t –“ here Obi-Wan shot Quinlan a hard look, “then I would wish that there are fewer politicians there than the number of mission reports you actually handed in on time. To specify – none.”

“Ouch, Obes, ouch.”

Chapter Text

Tholme looked as grizzled as ever, his eyes sharply on Quinlan as he accepted the data-pad.

“Is this in relation to you visiting the Senate on my behalf?” he asked, not yet reading.

“Yes and no. You could say this was how it all started and I definitely found something. I can’t say how helpful it’ll be but even if it’s not the Sith” – his tone betrayed how unlikely he thought it wouldn’t – “it’s still a worthy lead.”

“I suppose that is also why you’ve been so busy socially.” It was not a question.

“Well, I might not call it social exactly…”

“Young Kenobi joins the High Council tomorrow,” Tholme now remarked and only years of growing up with the man had Quinlan keep up with the erratic jump between seemingly unrelated topics. They never were. Unrelated, that is.

“Yes, he will bring this before them as well,” Quinlan agreed and gestured to the pad and finally Tholme started reading, certain that Quinlan would keep silent until he finished.

“Interesting” he said with a raised eyebrow as he looked up from his purview of the report.

Quinlan knew his master, the man had probably invented restraint and understatement. He might look neutral, but Quinlan was very aware, Tholme was on high alert.

“Kenobi mistrusts Palpatine.” Again, not a question. Quinlan waited again, knowing that little that his master said was not deliberately chosen. He was not disappointed. “I remember him after Melida/Daan. While Jinn was being an obstinate idiot pretending that he had done nothing wrong even though everyone could see how fragile that kid was, he more or less lived in your room, Quin.” Tholme’s eyes grew distant in a way Quinlan knew his own eyes did whenever he remembered the pitiful shadow of a person Obi-Wan had been after his first war. His master appeared gruff at first glance, but the gentle care, the patience and kind encouragements he had shown in the months after the fifteen year old veteran had returned to the Temple spoke louder than words.

“His master had abandoned him in an active warzone. Proclaimed he had left for attachment and did not speak out against that ridiculous probation. But Kenobi reached out for him, built up their trust because apparently he could see something in that bantha-headed idiot that we couldn’t.

“I remember, you were in class and he was sitting on our couch, far, far away from everything that was happening around him. I was frustrated because Jinn kept on… well, you know, and I asked Kenobi why he did not fight back, when he had been so obviously wronged. I still remember his answer word-for-word.”

Quinlan had not heard this story before and while he had never brought that question before Obi-Wan, it had been one he had asked himself often enough. “What did he say then?”

Quinlan felt Tholme tug him down his end of their old bond, inviting him to join in a memory. He found himself in their old, shared apartment with the noon’s sun casting parallel lines across the walls as it twinkled through the half-open shutters.

Obi-Wan was on the green couch, holding an empty cup and staring at something only he could see. Tholme sat in the armchair next to him, obviously grappling with his emotions.

“Everyone seems to think that our bond is broken, but it is still strong,” Obi-Wan spoke wistfully. Indeed, the Jinn-Kenobi Force bond was a thing of legends, but Quinlan had thought it had lain mute after Melida/Daan for a while. “I still feel him, the helplessness, the despair. He is in agony right now, just as I am. My master’s biggest strength is his greatest weakness, his heart. He gives it fully and loses himself and the grief and regret it causes him when that hurts others or might be the wrong course is crippling him.” Obi-Wan seemed to come back to himself a bit and finally looked at Tholme.

“But it is not your job to fix him, Obi-Wan. He did something horrible and it is not right that you are paying for it on your own.” His master sounded genuinely upset for that gaunt padawan, who was still carrying the bruises of a few weeks ago.

Obi-Wan seemed to sense it as well. “Do I believe he made the wrong choice? Yes. Does he believe it? Also yes, I feel his self-recrimination all the time.” He sighed.

“But would he act differently?” Tholme asked. “Because his actions currently surely don’t show it.”

“I think it has tempered him. Probably not it a way that would be visible to most others, because he still shows that passion, that bullheadedness. Losing it would make us all lose something magnificent. The Jedi, the galaxy need that. And what Qui-Gon needs to be that great Jedi is a compass. As much as he resents that fact, he learns this little by little.”

“And you’re that compass?” Tholme asked, much more thoughtful now, but not quite agreeing.

“No, I am the reminder to look at it. And I feel that though it is a painful journey for him, he is glad for it.”

“Still, he should do more to make this right!”

“Nothing makes Melida/Daan right,” Obi-Wan said very firmly. “And contrary to popular belief, this is not me pretending everything is as it is before, this is not me ignoring the issue.” Quinlan’s friend had eyes burning with determination, reflecting the man he would become in just under two decades. “I have seen the person Qui-Gon can be, I love both that version, but also the man making mistakes and errors because he has invested too much of himself. I need to heal, just as he does, and we need to rebuild our partnership. I cannot hope to achieve that by putting him in an impossible position. This is not how diplomacy works after all.” Probably the reason why Quinlan disliked it so much.

Compromises often left a foul taste with him, it was a means to an end, a tool in the political arena. But Obi-Wan saw it differently, he saw it as a way to enable the building of something greater, the way that little bit of generosity on both sides to not demand the ultimate of each other opened doors, enabled trust, healed wounds and bridged divides. For him, it was a beginning and full of promises for a brighter future.

“We both needed to reach out. It is like Melida and Daan hopefully one day becoming Melidaan. I already know what is important for me. That Qui-Gon loves me and is willing to make the journey together with me. That is more important for me than gestures to the Temple as a whole.”

The memory started to fade and Quinlan could feel Tholme’s quiet understanding and admiration for this child echo until he resurfaced in the meeting room of the present. They both kept the silence for a while, it was a heavy memory, and Quinlan was glad he had not ever asked Obi-Wan back then. Because he did not think he could have understood and that had not been what his friend had needed.

Tholme continued after a while, “I think having Kenobi at his side was the making of Jinn. Of course he sometimes relapsed into very questionable behaviour, but a friend reminded me of what he was before their partnership, after Xanatos had left. The fact that Qui-Gon Jinn today is remembered as a compassionate and kind Jedi and not only a skilled consular is due to his last padawan.”

Quinlan could not disagree there. He remembered Jinn’s reputation before he had taken Obi-Wan on. A great Jedi, but not necessarily a good one. Not cruel, but also with a lot of collateral wherever he went.

Obi-Wan had seen potential, had seen the reward of the journey and the balance they could achieve together. They had found each other again and again. Qui-Gon had come close to falling after New Apsolon. But he hadn’t in the end, following his padawan back to the surface after that dark time.

Tholme seemed to have heard his thought. “I personally think that he was Jinn’s compass after all. And I am willing to let him be mine as well. Kenobi understands people better than we all think, he sees clearer that most do and it has made him compassionate, but also careful and wise.” He finally closed the circle, as Quinlan had expected him to. “If he mistrusts the chancellor, then I’ll follow him.”

And really, that was that. The technical part that followed was handled with their regular efficiency. If they had not had the long conversation beforehand, Quinlan would have been astounded at the resources his former master was proposing to allocate to the situation.

But now, it made sense. Obi-Wan inspired people, Quinlan once again concluded. If he said something was important, then there were many ready to place their trust in him. Considering the number of shadows who would be descending on the connection between the Mulns of the Banking Clan and the Chancellor, Quinlan had a much lighter step after the meeting.

Chapter Text

“Whoa, Skywalker, careful there,” Quinlan warned as he was almost bowled over by the young knight a few weeks later.

“Oh, Knight Vos, I’m sorry I did not see you there.” He sounded distracted, or even distraught to Quinlan.

“Apparently,” he answered dryly, but took pity on Anakin. “You seem distressed, is all well?”

He was not particularly keen to delve into the mindset of one Anakin Skywalker, Quinlan suspected it was more angsty-teen than he would prefer, but – so he reminded himself for the nth time – this was Obi-Wan’s kid, whom he loved very much. And his friend himself was off-planet and would certainly appreciate if Quinlan at least made an effort.

Anakin himself seemed startled by the question and stared at Quinlan in a slightly bewildered manner.

“Look, Skywalker, I may not be your greatest fan at times, but if you need help you can count on me,” he tried reassuring him. Obi-Wan was a good judge of character and he firmly believed Anakin was on his path to be a great Jedi so he would follow his friend’s judgement – within reason of course.

“You know how I am friends with Chancellor Palpatine?” Anakin suddenly asked, apparently having decided to confide in him after all. Oh boy, he would regret this.

Half an hour later, they were sitting in Quinlan’s quarters sipping tea. Well, Quinlan was sipping tea, while Anakin word vomited. “He tried to say that the reason Padmé did not give me the reason why she was suddenly so against him was because she was working behind my back. But she would never. She told me it was about the safety of her source that she could not tell me, but for some reason the Chancellor seemed determined and kept talking about how she was going into a dangerous direction, that she lost her way. But I saw the laws she was arguing against and what the analysis says is right as far as I can tell.”

So Amidala had actually kept her word, Quinlan mused. And, he thought gleefully, it seemed that Palpatine had somewhat overestimated his credibility in comparison to the position Anakin’s wife held. The old man might just have leaned too far out of the viewport.

“Anakin, it might not mean much from me, but if I had to decide whom to entrust my well-being and safety to, in any sense really, Senator Amidala would win over the Chancellor every day.”

“I just don’t understand why he suddenly is like this!” the knight exclaimed in frustration, but not arguing Quinlan’s point. There was hope for him yet.

“You might not want to hear this, but is it really that sudden?”

“Of course, he always spoke fondly of Padmé before,” Anakin insisted.

Dear Force, sometimes he was a bit slow, wasn’t he? Well, if Quinlan had to spell it out. “I did not mean Senator Amidala specifically, but more Palpatine’s propensity to discredit his political opponents by making others lose their trust in them. Trust that directly seems to transfer to him.”

Anakin might be slightly dense, but he was smart and a quick thinker once the parameters of a problem had been established.

“That is…”

“Unfortunately a rather accurate assessment. Amidala always fell in line with her former senator until now, but the moment she questions his work – as every politician is encouraged to do in a democratic process – he tries to turn you against her by questioning her ownership over her own choices and mind. I find this to be the moves of one who fears for their power and influence above all. I can give you a list of all those who it has happened to. I am not saying that he is the only politician to behave thus, but maybe you should question his motivations just as much as you do with all the others in the Senate as well. Or the Jedi.”

“I don’t understand what you imply with that last part?” Anakin’s slightly defensive tone suggested that he did know to a degree.

“Why are you so insistent that he is a better being than Obi-Wan?” Quinlan finally brought it to a point and Anakin physically recoiled. “Besides saying exactly what you want to hear when you visit every few weeks, what has he done for you that measures up to the years that Obi-Wan has spent caring for you? Protecting you? Believing in you and actively helping you in whichever way he could?” The young knight was silent and Quinlan shook his head in disappointment. “You don’t deserve him. None of us do, but at least most of us know and don’t treat him like bantha-shite on purpose.”

“I don't treat him-”

“Do you, or do you not gossip about him with the chancellor behind his back? You are aware that this could be seen as actively sabotaging the war effort, because you he wrote the trust between the supreme commander of the GAR and one of its highest ranking officers. Do you ever wonder how this might potentially impact the decision-making process?” Quinlan wished he could be a better Jedi than this, he knew he had more emotional control then what this renewed outburst suggested. But Skywalker always, always managed to make him lose his calm. And the way the young knight just sat there, blinking owlishly, did not necessarily soothe his temperament.

He expected an outburst in return, but this time something seemed to be different. Anakin seemed suitably cowed by his speech and looked at him imploringly.

“Can you tell me about his time with Qui-Gon?” he carefully inquired, the switch in topic throwing Quinlan slightly off.

“Look kid, I'm not sure if Obi-Wan will be comfortable with me talking about his life like this so no promises. What would you want to know?”

Anakin seemed to hold back his initial reaction of “everything”, and carefully consider the question. “Wherever I go, he's always held up as the perfect example of what a Jedi should be. I assumed that he always fulfilled expectations, was the perfect padawan, but what you say often alludes to something different and I want to understand.” his sentence had ended in a mumble and for a moment Quinlan could see that insecure kid shining through. To be fair, Obi-Wan’s shoes were big ones to fill for anyone.

And it made a lot of sense. His own relationship with his master posed difficulties to Anakin, the idea that Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had had their own rocky patches was probably something that he actually needed to hear.

All of a sudden, he was very glad for the memory Tholme had shared a while back, he felt much better equipped to deal with this conversation than just a few months ago.

“Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were reputed to be one of the best Jedi team the Order had when it came to diplomacy and conflict resolution,” he began and saw Anakin’s shoulders sag a bit, “only eclipsed by the Kenobi-Skywalker pairing,” he continued. “Both also share the same disposition to kick over a Kessellian Hornet’s nest wherever they went.” Anakin had blushed violently, both in pleasure and embarrassment, Quinlan assumed. “When you compare those two, what does this tell you in terms of public perception versus internal reality though?” he asked.

The knight’s forehead formed a frown. “That just because a team is successful doesn’t mean they don’t have their issues?” he asked.

Quinlan nodded in praise. “Indeed. Just like you and Obi-Wan, the Jinn-Kenobi team had its clashes. And pretty severe ones at that.” He had become a teacher by nature, Quinlan suddenly realised and had the sudden desire to do something irresponsible and juvenile to reassert his self-image.

Instead he leaned back in his chair and waited Anakin out who was very obviously chewing on something big. “What happened in the Council Chambers, back when I first came here… Did Obi-Wan ever tell you of it?”

Quinlan could not help the dark look that entered his eyes. “Yes.” He did not dare to elaborate, he still got incensed at the mere mention of that.

“I did not understand what it meant, back then. But if Master Yoda had not interrupted, Qui-Gon would have probably repudiated Obi-Wan to make room for me as his padawan.” Anakin swallowed heavily. “The Chancellor, he said that this made Obi-Wan jealous of me. And that it is the reason that he still doesn’t like and trust me today.”

“And what do you think?” Quinlan simply asked.

“That Obi-Wan might have felt jealous and hurt, but … he would not have blamed it on me,” Anakin mumbled very softly.

“You were a distressed kid back then, unsure of your future and you had no understanding of the weird proceedings which are the High Council’s policies. Of course he did not blame you. You were not responsible for the actions of Qui-Gon Jinn, and Obi-Wan understood that. Besides, I wonder how upset he was at the whole situation anyways,” he mused, more to himself.

“What do you mean by that?” Anakin appeared completely bewildered now.

“Obi-Wan understood Qui-Gon differently than we all did. You know they had a very strong bond, right? Only Obi-Wan can tell you what went on between them in that moment. He and Qui-Gon were forged in fire, their partnership was hard-earned and in a way it seems like a small thing compared to all the other drama that went on with these two.”

“But wouldn’t he have been at risk to lose his place in the Order, suddenly without a master?” Anakin asked, and yes, in theory a repudiated padawan would need to be ‘adopted’ by another master if they wouldn’t be eligible for the trials or face expulsion. But just the idea startled a laugh out of Quinlan.

“No one would have let Obi-Wan Kenobi leave because of something like that by that point. He was overdue for knighthood anyways. At twenty-five, he is not exactly old to be knighted, but there had been murmurs about how he was ready from various sources for years and years by then already. Why do you think the council actually let him train you?”

“But Yoda said-“

“Yoda likes his mystery and appearing in control of the situation. Maybe he also simply wanted to diffuse the tension. The more I learn about this, the more I think at some point it was more about Qui-Gon than Obi-Wan anyways.”

“You mean Qui-Gon didn’t want to let him go?”

“And Obi-Wan felt he was best placed at his master’s side. After all, he never hinted that he should be a knight earlier, never seemed discontent. I assumed it was simply self-restraint but maybe it was actually genuine. Who knows, Obi-Wan’s feelings in the Force work differently to ours, maybe he knew he had to be at Qui-Gon’s side for Naboo.”

“There’s a lot I do not understand about my master,” Anakin said sadly.

“That is true, but the only way to change that is to speak with him. Not about him,” he emphasised firmly at the end and Anakin hung his head.

“I understand. I was going to call him anyway, but I’ll make a point to not only discuss business.”

“You will make him very happy, Anakin. He’s been waiting for you.”

Now shame clearly coloured the Force around them.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Quinlan found himself saying. “You were young and there is still plenty of time for you to grow into your own. And if Obi-Wan believes you can become a great Jedi, then you will.”

To Quinlan’s surprise, his words had the opposite effect than intended. Skywalker became even more uncomfortable. “Maybe greatness is not what I should strive for after all…” he offered carefully at Quinlan’s raised eyebrow.

“Not that I disagree, but what brought this on?” He had always thought that it would have been right up Anakin’s hyperspace-lane to be a renowned Jedi.

“Well, you once attended the 3^rd systems army command gathering, right? You remember how we discussed casualty rates?” That was quite a curveball, but Quinlan had learnt from the best and took it in stride, nodding along. “There are some Jedi who, while being victorious on the battlefield, seem to amass a number of casualties that is, well, strange in relation to what they face. So I looked into it, if it was circumstances or what Obi-Wan mentioned about misalignment of skills and strength with situation. And for some that was the case.” He paused and Quinlan felt his anticipation manifest like something heavy and uncomfortable in his stomach. “But for some… it just doesn’t make sense.”

“How do you mean that? Are they simply not good at strategy?” Quinlan probed, but he noticed that Anakin was unsettled by something more.

“No, some of them are even particularly well known for their prowess in that area… It’s like they just, you know, don’t care for their troops and see throwing more and more clones into horrible odds for survival as a viable option.

“I discussed these with the Chancellor briefly and all he had to say was that these were great victories for the Republic. But the only thing I can think about is that there is nothing great in so many of the Vod’e dying.” His voice had turned desperate at the end and his mechanic hand clenched into a fist.

The silence was heavy and Quinlan had to swallow hard. This was what Obi-Wan saw in Anakin, he suddenly realised. That burning compassion, his sense of justice rebelling against what he saw and his unwillingness to just accept something because it had always been that way. How do you always see these things before the rest of us, Obes, he asked himself wryly.

“Anakin, you are right. There is nothing great in a Jedi who does not value life,” he agreed.

“I always ask myself whether I could have done more, been faster or just smarter and save more of my troops, the thought that someone might purposefully send them to die…”

“I have never led an army into battle, but I know Obi-Wan struggles with the same thoughts. Remember, you’re doing your best, the trust that your legion puts in you is because they know that you would do everything you can to bring them all back home if you could.”

“I wish I could save everyone,” the young knight whispered brokenly and in that moment, Quinlan was reminded of another teenager, full of despair and self-recrimination because he saw blood on his hands whenever he looked at them.

“You know the Jedi’s answer to that, I suppose, but I always felt it does not help much,” he offered and felt the scoff at that in the Force. He could relate. “But Anakin, the only way to save everyone is through controlling everything. And everyone. And if there is one thing many of us value more than our life, it is our freedom and making our own decisions.” He took a deep breath because he knew the next one would be hitting hard. “Safety is not worth the price of losing freedom to slavery.”

Anakin’s eyes grew impossibly wide.

“I’m not saying you should not try to keep others safe, but remember that ultimately it is their own choice how they live their lives and that will always be connected to danger.”

“I-“

“Senator Amidala receives death threats every other week. You could probably protect her if you locked her away safely somewhere remote and she retired from office.”

Anakin had been a Jedi long enough to hear the lesson waiting for him there. “But she would not be the woman I admire,” he admitted.

“Just so,” Quinlan agreed. “As Jedi we learn to find the balance between doing our best to help and respecting beings’ free wills.” He took a breath, seeing the words sink in. “Now, let us focus on who we can save, Skywalker. You have names.”

Anakin took a moment to regain his balance, but to his credit, he looked a lot more put together than before. He pulled out a small data pad from his pocket, powering it on. “I do, several in fact, but let us start with Pong Krell.”

Chapter Text

It was enough to make his stomach churn in nervousness. Quinlan had no qualms admitting that. The numbers presented to him by Skywalker had appeared worrying, but he was no military expert so while they did seem high, he had no reference.

So he called Obi-Wan after his talk with Anakin. The young knight had easily given him the data pad and promised to come back in a few days to pick the discussion back up again, but wanted to give Quinlan time to go through it at his own pace.

“Quinlan!” Obi-Wan greeted happily as the call connected.

“Hey Obes, how’s it going on the other end of the galaxy?” Making conversation was his way of finding out how busy and stressed his friend was.

“So far, trouble did not find us, we had a few skirmishes, but only minor injuries, so Cody and I are catching up on flimsi-work.” Obi-Wan enabled the wider angle feature and the blue figure of the Marshall Commander appeared next to his friend.

“Commander,” Quinlan called, “good to see you.”

“Knight Vos.” Cody inclined his head formally, but Quinlan could spy the small uplifting on the corner of his mouth. He did not look particularly tired and neither did Obi-Wan, if Quinlan had to guess they both appeared more relaxed than he had seen them in weeks. He already hated that he had to derail this happy mood.

Something seemed to have shown on his face - or Obi-Wan was just so kriffing empathetic -and the frown stole itself across his friend’s forehead. “You are not calling to tell me about Initiate Solma placing second in the baking competition,” he stated.

“Did she?” Quinlan asked, interested despite his mood.

“Yes, with a Merulan pie.”

“Aha!” Quinlan exclaimed. “So she is angling for Aayla.”

“It would appear so,” Obi-Wan said with a grin. He looked at Cody in apology and explained, “Initiate Solma is currently eight, but the only initiate Quinlan’s former padawan Aayla has ever shown any interest in. Naturally, Quinlan hopes for a grand-padawan and since the initiate made Aayla’s favourite recipe, it seems she hopes similar things. Of course there are a few years before she becomes eligible as a padawan…”

“… but since Aayla still wants to enjoy knighthood on her own a bit longer, that is just fine,” Quinlan finished the explanation.

“So the contest entry means that there actually might be a potential partnership there?” Cody asked.

“Well, it at least makes my theory not completely baseless since Aayla insists I’m imagining things.” Quinlan laughed, glad the situation had been lightened a bit. “If she wouldn’t bug me about a sibling-padawan at every occasion, I might let this lie, but just yesterday she tried to sign me up for creche duty, so I will have my sweet revenge.”

“Retribution, you mean,” Obi-Wan said with a mischievous grin.

“Naturally. Revenge is not the Jedi way.” They all chuckled at that and then they all sobered.

“So, what is it. You seem worried.” Obi-Wan leaned slightly forward.

“Would you like to speak to the General privately?” Cody asked, already moving as if to gather some pads.

“No it’s probably best if you stayed, second pair of eyes and all. You two are the best the GAR has to offer in terms of expertise on the war, so I have a few scenarios for you if I can send them through?”

“A tactics exercise?” Obi-Wan asked as he received the anonymised and somewhat randomised data sets Quinlan had created out of Skywalker’s findings.

“These seem vaguely familiar,” Cody said and his general nodded.

“Try not to think about it too much, please just give some recommendations, play them through, give me some numbers if you can.”

Obi-Wan gave him a long look that always seemed to pierce into his soul, but then he and the commander got to work. Their teamwork was a beautiful thing to behold and they were churning out approaches, strategies and plans almost faster than Quinlan could keep track of.

He ran their results against the real reports. Disbelievingly, he calculated in a more than generous margin of error and then re-checked his numbers. The other side of the comm call had gone quiet.

“Quinlan, talk to me,” Obi-Wan prompted. Though the holos turned everything blue, Quinlan was almost certain the colour leeching from his face was visible.

“Obi-Wan,” he began hoarsely and now he could see his friend was genuinely worried, “look at what I am sending through now. Tell me I am seeing ghosts.”

Both Jedi and commander looked down at the terminal again. It took only a minute, but then Cody’s head shot up again and he stared at him. “What. Is. This?” he asked. Quinlan opened his mouth but no sound came out.

“It is murder,” Obi-Wan spoke up, his voice toneless and his face angled towards Cody. The clone appeared livid, though his anger was all still carefully leashed.

No one knew what to say for a moment. Quinlan observed how Obi-Wan’s eyes lost their focus, staring into the distance. He seemed to be listening very closely to the Force. With a start he came back to himself, turning to his second in command with blistering intensity.

“Obi-Wan,” Quinlan called, “what is it?”

But he did not seem to hear him. Instead that razor focus was still on the brown eyes of the commander.

“Sir?” he asked.

“The Force tells me to pay close attention to those who died. But it also tells me to ask about those who were sent back to Kamino. It is wailing about that.” Cody flinched, but kept the gaze. “Cody, it says supplementary training, but what are we seeing here? I see, but I don’t understand yet. Please.” His hands made a weird aborted movement, as if to reach out, but the urgency was unmistakable even without it.

Quinlan looked at the commander. He looked ashen even with the blue holo tint, suddenly unsure.

“Cody, what are we doing?” Obi-Wan pleaded. “If your brothers are in danger, please let me help.” The pause after that stretched and stretched, Cody appearing conflicted but remaining silent. Obi-Wan drew back, his eyes wide. “What have I done?” he asked in horror.

That seemed to shake the commander. “No!” The shout felt weirdly loud. “You have not done anything. You never-“ He cut himself off.

Obi-Wan looked like the world was crumbling down around him. “You’re protecting your brothers from me, I understand,” he spoke softly, his voice reflecting the devastation. “Whether we are aware of it or not, whether we do it on purpose or not, we are a danger to you,” he said in understanding.

Quinlan realised his friend had gathered more from this situation than he himself, but he did not expect Obi-Wan to take on a very determined look all of a sudden and very deliberately pressing a few buttons on the console.

For a minute nothing happened and the unbearable silence continued, now tinged with confusion from both Quinlan and the commander. The slowly but surely more holo images were popping into existence. The first was Oppo Rancisis, then came Saessee Tiin, Mace Windu, Stass Allie…

Force, Obi-Wan had called a High Council emergency session. Just like that. Cody seemed to have come to the same realisation because his eyes had widened.

“Obi-Wan,” Plo Koon asked, without his mask and goggles, meaning he was in his quarters where the atmo-control created the unique Dorin gas mix. “What is wrong? Your code suggested it was a matter of life and death.” By now all councillors had assembled, some in very informal wear, it was very late on Coruscant after all.

“It is,” Obi-Wan affirmed, his voice grave. “We must take at least three Jedi generals immediately out of the field and place them under arrest, we must finally go ahead with the military auditor program I proposed, and” – his face had turned slightly predatory – “we must deploy at least two council members to Kamino immediately.”

It was pandemonium after that.

It was called re-conditioning and de-commissioning, Quinlan learnt and it was exactly what these vile words suggested it was. Reprogramming through mental torture and plain execution after failure to conform, whatever shape that took.

Cody had not spoken because in order to protect each other, the Vod’e had sworn to never speak of it to an outsider. No 212^th clone had been sent back during the war yet, but the clones had felt that the best way to make sure it stayed that way was to keep quiet about it. In the other unit, this had been the most reliable method of not drawing attention to any manoeuvres the commanders along with the medics made to protect those under them.

Obviously, Obi-Wan had understood that and realised that the clones were not obligated to provide information like that, gathering that it was something horrible. The council had not needed as much persuasion on any of the three points Obi-Wan had demanded as Quinlan would have assumed, but then again, Obi-Wan had crashed into them like a force of nature, unrelenting and persistent until Shaak Ti and Agen Kolar had left on a ship less than an hour after the call concluded. And Obi-Wan had made clear that if they did not uncover what the problem was within three days of their arrival, he would drop everything - including the planet they were currently occupying to destroy the droid factory on it – and would go himself. No one wanted to risk that. Briefly, Quinlan thanked the Force for his friend's firm devotion to the light, if he had taken his grandmaster on Geonosis up on his offer to join the Sith, the war would be already lost to the Republic, Quinlan was sure.

Obi-Wan’s reaction had gained him a new level of trust, and not only from his commander. As far as Quinlan had heard through the grape-vine, the GAR flocked to his friend like a saviour, which was telling enough of the fears the Vod’e had harboured. And when the report of the two Jedi on Kamino came in... Well.

Obi-Wan told him that Cody had tried to apologise for not trusting him enough to ask for help, but Obi-Wan had simply referenced the casualty numbers of Pong Krell – by now in a Jedi holding cell – and insisted that because obviously the Jedi were not guaranteed to have the clones’ best interest at heart either, they had to earn that trust one by one.

Obi-Wan threw himself into that task with a determination that even Quinlan was surprised at and the shadows observing at the senate told him that his friend had tripled his efforts for the Clone Right Bill.

To address the structural problem behind Jedi losing their moral compass, Obi-Wan hammered out a supervision system of rotating buddies, when no one could offer any reasonable excuse except their thinly-stretched resources. Through his connections with the History Society and the Artefact Research Group, Obi-Wan had enlisted several hundred elderly, but very sharp Jedi within hours.

He propagated it as a resource for the front line Jedi, but in the end it was a safety net. An extra set of eyes, like auditors, but also spiritual support for the generals. Jedi were a community focused people after all, so having a fellow Jedi to meditate together with was important.

They would not stay with one Jedi general for longer than a month, and would never do more than three consecutive stays before taking a mandatory Temple-break. That would protect the retired Jedi from exhaustion or being overwhelmed, kept their eyes – or whatever visual receptors they had – fresh and offered the generals a continuously new outside perspective.

Quinlan saw all of that being developed into an idea, planned out and put into action in less than forty-eight hours, so when Anakin came to his door the next week for their follow-up discussion, he told the young knight what his research had kicked off.

They were just discussing the quick changes and reactions on Kamino, when Obi-Wan called his padawan and assured him with a voice shaking from emotions how proud of him he was. Quinlan had a lump in his throat after that himself and Skywalker looked close to dissolving into tears. Maybe the rift within The Team was mending.

Cody was in attendance as well, thanking Skywalker for his service to the Vod’e, who took it with awed humility and more grace than Quinlan would have thought possible.

“As you know, we have been working with Masters Kiwa’al and Mbaht for a few months now and we would like to invite you three and the Jedi High Council to our election ceremony,” Cody continued on after that. “We have a proclamation, a manifesto of our people to be ratified as well as the actual election of representatives and several administrative functions. You all have gone above and beyond in your dedication to the Vod’e and your willingness to fight for us will not be forgotten. The event will be broadcasted, of course, but to have you there in person would mean a lot to us.”

“We would be honoured to be there at the formal establishment of the Vod’e as a people, Cody,” Obi-Wan answered soberly, using the same gravitas he deployed for planetary leaders. But his eyes were warm, genuinely happy.

A tiny spark of hope that something positive would grow out of this dreadful reality shone like a beacon in Quinlan’s heart as he enthusiastically promised his attendance as well.

Chapter Text

“Gentlebeings, my name is Spiral and I have the honour of representing the Declaration Committee today and will be guiding you through the proceedings today.”

They were in the giant assembly hall in the barracks on Coruscant and the room was filled from top to bottom with Vod’e and a few guests. They had added some last minute balconies and it was a tight, but still comfortable fit.

Quinlan stood next to Obi-Wan who had arrived with Anakin within a group that mainly consisted of 212^th. The rest of the Jedi Council was scattered throughout the room. Quinlan knew that it had been an offer to provide them a separate space, but the council was making a point by being among the Vod’e. That and it was rather obvious that Obi-Wan was not alone in his desire to be with his troops on this special occasion.

Quinlan had zoned out a bit when Spiral had explained the voting process – all clones had been able to vote via their commlinks in the last three days and polls were now closed – but he was rather familiar with it anyways. He had met the whole Declaration Committee through Master Mbhat, who was an old friend of Tholme’s master.

“Now for our main event,” Spiral picked up the thread again. “Over the last few months we, together with any sibling who wished to participate have created our guidelines and our rules, capturing the essence of what it means to be Vod’e. The galaxy might not recognise us as people, as sentient beings, but we know better. We, each of us, is an individual, and that fact remains no matter our official status.

“It is with the greatest pleasure that I call on our sister Fly to read you our founding manifesto today!” There was a storm of applause and Fly stepped forward. She did not carry a pad, Quinlan knew she could speak the words in her sleep if she wanted to.

            “Siblings, friends, allies. Opponents, enemies, traitors. Today, we are here to speak, with our voices raised, for you to hear:

            To tell the story of our journey, climbing to the light from the obscurity at the bottom of the ocean;

            Of our character, where bone white is blooming into colour and diversity;

            And our conviction, brought by millions of voices speaking as one.

            Called into existence for war, we have eclipsed what they dreamed. A sea of the same face, flesh droids, a product - these are only words to make us less than we are.

            Instead we hold the mirror up to their faces and make them realise their own depravity. For the writing is on the wall.

            It is there for the world to see with each of us coming into their own, each of us proving beyond doubt that it is not genes that define us.

            For today, we rise above slander, opposition, and oppression.

            Because we are more, we do not exist to follow blindly, not mindless in the face of adversity, not ignorant when confronted with injustice, never idle where we can help.

            Determined and indomitable, brave and full of spirit, compassionate and loyal.

            From now until the last of us is marching far away and as long as we are remembered, we are Vod’e.”

Here, Fly paused, the challenge clearly on her face. “Oya!” she shouted and a roar went through the assembled crowd as they answered in kind.

Quinlan was reasonably sure that there was no dry eye in the room.

Spiral stepped up again when the shouts and the applause had calmed down after minutes. “All of us have voted now, those here today and those far away on different planets. I am about to announce our first Council of the Echoes. This council will consist of three representatives and three functional positions. Every year, one of each group will be interchanged so that after three years the Council has renewed itself. May they lead with wisdom and strength and always echo the will of our people.”

“Oya,” echoed through the room again.

Quinlan noticed how the room settled into nervous anticipation, and exchanged a grin with Anakin. Obi-Wan in between them seemed enraptured, caught somewhere between moved, proud, melancholic and excited.

“For the functional position of Health Representative, I give you Kix,” the block of 501^sts broke out into cheers, “our Cultural Representative will be Blackbox” – more cheering – “and for External Relations I announce Puffin!” The room went wild as the first three electees went up to the stage.

“Finally, our three Direction Representatives will be Fox, Hanni, and voted as chair of the council, Cody!”

Everyone sort of lost it from there and while there were more speeches, a few words from each of the electees, soon it all it turned into a massive party. The Vod’e and their guests mingled, excitedly discussing the newest developments and unwinding after all the emotions.

Quinlan had observed happily that the event had indeed been broadcasted for the holo-net. The various Jedi channels had all featured it, pausing any other programs in favour of giving the Vod’e more publicity. Quinlan knew that the Jedi Communications Department had allocated a lot of resources to help the Vod’e make this event as successful from a PR perspective as possible.

Each of the nominees had pre-filmed video-introductions, which would air now, there were feature pieces that had shown Vod’e culture for the last few days and tomorrow Quinlan knew, the cooperation documentaries between Vod’e and Jedi would launch. The Jedi were subtly making a point and Quinlan sincerely hoped it would all work in their favour.

As the party was winding down and the Jedi contingent had partly left already, Quinlan made a quick call with Jedi Comms who had been monitoring the holo-net reactions and was pleased to find that the petition for the Clone Rights Bill had gained millions more signatures.

Armed with that and a summary of generally good reception that he forwarded to Obi-Wan’s assistant Flash, he went in search of his friend to return to the Temple for the evening.

“Congratulations on your election, Representative Cody,” Obi-Wan’s voice drifted down the barrack corridor that Quinlan currently walked down and he stopped in his tracks. He masked his presence in the Force, instinctively feeling that this was a moment he should not disturb. And yes, of course he was curious.

“Thank you, General, and thank you for all the support during the process. Forming a government is certainly more complicated than it looked at first glance. Masters Kiwa’al and Mbaht were invaluable, we wouldn’t have even known where to start, I admit.”

“You performed admirably, Cody, I am sure you would have figured it out regardless.”

“Thank you, sir.”

It was awkward, Quinlan decided. For some reason the easy camaraderie the general and his commander shared normally was gone and left behind were these stiff, polite men. He was about to stage an intervention to diffuse the situation when he heard Obi-Wan’s sigh. “Forgive me, Cody,” he said.

“Whatever for, General?” Cody sounded about as confused as Quinlan felt.

“I am beyond thrilled for your achievements today and yet here I am being bad company.”

“You’re never bad company!” Cody’s reassurance came so quickly and instinctive than Quinlan had to smile.

“That is kind of you to say, my dear, but I seemingly cannot let go of how I have failed you.”

“Failed us?” It seemed to be the commander’s fate in this conversation to be constantly bewildered from the sound of it.

“I believed I was helping you best by trying to push the legislation through on my own, but instead I have done exactly of what I accuse those in the Senate.”

“You are nothing like those in the Senate,” came the vehement reply.

“Did I not decide what was best for you on my own and not consult your wishes. I denied you all ownership of your own fate and the best intentions behind it do not count if I took away your choice.”

Quinlan had the strong desire of slapping a hand against his forehead, but settled for an eyeroll. Force, for all his incredible emotional intelligence, Obi-Wan could be so dense sometimes.

“But I promise you, I will do better,” his friend assured the commander with fervour now. “If you will permit me, I will still stand for the Vod’e cause with all that I have, but this time I will coordinate with you and no longer go over your head.”

“General, please,” Cody pleaded, sounding desperate in the face of Obi-Wan’s anguish. “Since the moment you stepped onto Kamino, you have done nothing but give us choice, encourage us to form our opinions, express our individuality. You have never imposed your will on us, all that you fought for us was never against what we wanted.”

There was the rustling of fabric and in the warped reflection of the polished dura-steel corridor wall, Quinlan could make out that the commander had stepped closer to Obi-Wan and had grasped his hands, staring directly at him.

“It was our choice to put our trust in you. Do not take that away from us. Do not say that our, my devotion to you is anything but my own free will.”

No one breathed in the aftermath of that confession, Quinlan’s eyes blown wide despite the inkling of the clone’s feelings that he had had for a while.

“Cody,” Obi-Wan gasped brokenly and Quinlan could spy the commander moving back and letting go.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped, General,” he fled back into the formality of rank.

“No!” Obi-Wan nearly shouted, all usual eloquence gone. “No, Cody, you honour me. I want … I feel–“

“You don’t have to say anything,” Cody interrupted the uncharacteristic stammering gently.

“But I do. You should know, you must know –“ Obi-Wan was still furtively trying to make a point, but it seemed that the clone had understood.

“And I already do, Obi-Wan,” Cody assured him, the rare use of his first name shaking even to Quinlan.

“You deserve the words!” Obi-Wan sounded frustrated and helpless.

“Maybe, but they don’t mean as much to me as the actions I see already.” Quinlan saw how Cody extended his arm to Obi-Wan. There was a beat of silence, the Obi-Wan grasped his forearm in the traditional Mandalorian handshake. “You show me every day what is in your heart. One day, we will speak the words, but right now, this is enough for me.”

Obi-Wan seemed to come to a resolution as well. “One day, Cody,” he affirmed and they let each other’s arms go. “I will not rest until I can make it a reality.”

“That’s sort of what I am afraid of, General,” Cody muttered dryly, the two of them already slipping back into their normal banter and finally continuing their path down the corridor.

Quinlan was reasonably certain that all the romance novelists in the galaxy had nothing on those two. He felt slightly light headed at what he had just witnessed, all raw and sweet and fierce and tender.

He had thought he had enough reason to do his best to support ending the war as soon as possible. Obviously he had been wrong. Galactic peace paled as a motivation compared to the wish of seeing the day when his friend and his commander could speak the words.

Chapter Text

Quinlan was nervous, but as he shot a glance at Cody, Fox and Hanni, he gave a brave smile. “Ready to go, Representatives?” He frowned slightly at the mute expressions he got in return. “Come on, it’ll be fine, remember, Obi-Wan is there, he won’t let us crash and burn.” That seemed to help significantly, but they still appeared unsure. He could relate, it was a big moment and the anticipation even seemed to resonate in the Force itself.

“I can tell you that he prepared more for this address than for his senior padawan final exams and he demolished several centuries-old high scores during that. Imagine what he’ll do today.”

This seemed to work slightly better and Cody especially seemed bolstered by it.

“You have a good process, your idea is solid and your stance just, have faith,” he concluded his mini pep talk just as the turbo lift came to a halt at the top of the spire. The knight manning the hall that day nodded to them.

“You are expected. Please.” They gestured to the large double doors that slid open and the four of them stepped in. Cody was in the middle, with the other two positioned right beside him and Quinlan standing next to Fox, but half a step back. He was there in his position as their Jedi liaison, but he would let the others do the talking first.

“Welcome Representatives, Knight Vos,” Master Windu greeted graciously. A quick glance showed Quinlan that every single member was present in person, not only as a holo transmission and wondered how Obi-Wan had managed that feat.

“So Obi-Wan, do you want to reveal to us what you wish to discuss today and what Knight Vos and the Vod’e have to do with it?” Quinlan felt just the slightest bit smug that Windu already sounded slightly harassed by his presence in the chamber alone.

Obi-Wan got up from his seat and deliberately stood next to Hanni, mirroring Quinlan’s own positioning. And boy, did his friend know how to work a room. He made a show of seemingly gathering himself, increasing the tension and making sure that the gravitas of the situation could escape no one. This is important seemed to broadcast across the room.

“Fellow Councillors,” he began, nodding to the assembled Jedi Masters. “I am sure many of you know of my dedication to the Clone Rights Bill in the Senate. I need not explain the untenable situation in detail, we all know that the Republic condones slavery with every day that they deny the Clones sentient being status.” He looked to the ground. “It is injustice,” he added almost softly. Then he raised his head and from the point where he stood, Quinlan almost saw the electric current crackling in those blue eyes.

“I am speaking up today to remind us all that the Jedi go along with this as well. With protest, certainly, but we still tolerate the status-quo.” As he had probably intended, the room as a whole seemed to shift uncomfortably, but Obi-Wan was not done.

“We are at the point where our acceptance of this denial of basic rights has turned us into accomplices. We speak noble words, but we watch as our principles, the very foundation of our Order is carved out only to remain as a hollow shell. If we continue down this path any longer, we will lose sight of what is right, what is just, what it means to be Jedi!”

Quinlan really hoped someone was recording this. He had seen Obi-Wan give countless speeches, but never before had he had this presence and this urgency. With a start, he realised that Obi-Wan was channelling the Force as well.

Quinlan knew the speech was prepared. But now he was certain that it had been developed and written while in deep meditation, letting the Force guide his words and sentences. So, certainly the words were his, but he also subtly drove the point that this was in alignment with the will of the Force. Kark, whenever Quinlan thought he knew his friend, he went and pulled something like this.

The room as a whole seemed to come to a similar conclusion for Quinlan could feel the surprise-awe-respect. From beside him, the Vod’e were giving off slightly different emotions, but no less potent.

“We need to stop, no, we need to turn around. Because we owe it to those who fight with and for us every day to fight for them just as much. And this means recognising them as a people and doing our best to ensure their well-being, even if it opposes the Senate,” Obi-Wan finally concluded and let the words linger in the air.

“Speak with the Force, you do,” Yoda finally spoke after a long pause. “Truth, it is.”

“Indeed, thank you for these words, Obi-Wan,” Plo affirmed. “They were very much needed.” More agreement was voiced by various members and Quinlan felt the tension leave his own shoulders. This looked promising.

“What would you suggest in practice, Master Kenobi?” Stass Allie asked what every councillor seemed to wonder.

“In line with what I elaborated, I will not presume to know what they want or speak for them,” Obi-Wan asserted even though Quinlan was reasonably sure that all clones would be happy to have him do just that because they trusted him. “The Vod’e have gone through an impressive process of organisation and determining their own direction. My first action to hold true to the principles we preach is to ensure that the elected representatives of their people have the forum to have their voice heard.” With that he gestured to Cody and took a deliberate step back.

The Marshall Commander stepped forward just a bit and straightened even more. “The Vod’e want to be more than soldiers in this war, we have a vision for beyond it. We believe in what the Jedi do, therefore I hereby petition for the amalgamation of our people with the Jedi Order and the formation of a Vod’e Corps as the sixth pillar besides the Knight-, Edu-, Med-, Agri- and Explora-Corps.” Cody’s voice was strong and confident, left and right to him Fox and Hanni looked equally determined.

Quinlan was certain he would treasure the image of Mace Windu blinking owlishly in astonishment for a very long time.

Quinlan was hanging out with the Vod’e council the next day on the Negotiator which served as their temporary headquarters. The air was anticipatory, they were waiting for the official verdict of the High Council even though they all knew a final ruling would likely be weeks in the making.

None of them really were up to talking about anything important because of the underlying distractedness, when the “General on bridge” disrupted them all from their thoughts. All clones got up and saluted, while Quinlan lazily turned around in his chair.

Obi-Wan, as always dressed impeccably in beige tunics and brown robes stepped up to the table with a gentle smile. “Gentlebeings,” he greeted easily and gestured for the clones to relax. Only now Quinlan saw two medium sized crates hovering in the air behind him.

“Well?” Quinlan prompted. The tension in the air heightened.

Obi-Wan threw a glance around and ascertained that there were exclusively Vod’e on the bridge. Then he drew himself up, formality and gravitas falling over him like a cloak. “On behalf of the High Council, I am pleased to welcome you into the Jedi Order. The vote was cast this morning with all in favour of the Vod’e Corps formation. ”

A moment of disbelieving silence unfolded where everyone just processed. Quinlan himself was surprised, not having expected a decision either way, instead a declaration that the petition was under deliberation. He said as much and Obi-Wan’s smile sharpened. “Thankfully everyone was convinced that a lengthy debate is in no one’s interest.” Which was Obi-Wan speak for ‘I bullied them into it very politely’.

The Vod’e around the bridge broke out into loud cheers and Cody stepped up to his general and offered his hand. Obi-Wan grasped his forearm without hesitation. “Thank you, Sir,” he said, voice full of emotion.

“It is my privilege, Cody,” Obi-Wan answered. He angled himself more towards the rest of the council. “In the long run, the Order wishes to restructure to assure a more equal corps-representation, but for the moment I have the pleasure as to invite you to choose a representative to take up a seat on the High Council.” More excited murmurs broke out.

He sighed. “Unfortunately, we believe that it is not yet the time to reveal these changes to the general public. As of now, there are both strong anti-Vod’e and anti-Jedi sentiments. Releasing anything would create waves, to do so prematurely risks losing important control of the situation, would spark rumours and would give their opposition time to mobilise. We want to be as ready as can be, especially since we know the Sith to be working against us. I apologise for asking you to keep it quiet, but we hope to keep the tactical advantage as long as possible.”

“We will keep this within the Vod’e, General, we also wish to be as prepared as possible. Maybe we could start a rumour that after our elections, we wish to focus on the Clone Rights Bill and plan to table large strategic decisions until after the war,” Fox suggested.

Obi-Wan visibly brightened at being absolved. “A very good idea. Now that we have the go-ahead on the corps formation, I am free to give you this as a resource for the process of hammering out the details,” he proclaimed and gestured to the crates, which moved over to set down on the large tactics table with a dull thud.

Quinlan leaned forward together with the council and they started unpacking. Both were full of data pads and Quinlan started skimming the contents of a few.

He had not been joking when he had said that Obi-Wan had prepared for this more than for his finals, but what even Quinlan had not realised was the almost stupid amount of work that his friend had put into the Vod’e Corps formation.

From working together with Jedi Legal to hammer out details for a contract basis, to developing suggestions for a corps structure, to training materials for both Vod’e and Jedi for cooperative missions. Suggestions for guidelines, summaries of philosophical debates that were relevant, even mundane topics such as materials management and acquisitions and uniforms. It was all there.

Quinlan stared at Obi-Wan who had settled into a chair and observed a group of clones on the tech deck excitedly celebrating the news, exchanging hugs and occasionally laughing loudly, a soft smile on his face at their happiness.

“Sir,” Hanni spoke up, “this is incredible. Did you write all these?” The disbelief was clear on her face. Quinlan could relate. He obviously needed to step up his game to get Obi-Wan to take a damn break. But the way he looked so happy and glad to be doing something so useful and beneficial made him inclined to be lenient.

“I feared a lot of opposition and simply wished to be as prepared as possible to argue the case. Being able to explain how the practicalities would work seemed like a good angle to me.” Obi-Wan seemed slightly uncomfortable.

“Certainly sounds solid, but this is almost a ready to go concept,” Puffin chipped in. As the representative for external relations, the detailed briefings on the integration of Vod’e and Jedi PR had caught his attention.

“You are by no means obliged to go along with any of it. Simply treat it as inspiration. I am sure that you will come up with something far superior!” Obi-Wan emphasised and Quinlan shared an exasperated glance with Cody. Honestly, that man.

But Obi-Wan was already moving on. “In line with your integration into the Order, this also means you have access to our resources, is there anything you’d need at the moment?” he asked and no one called him on changing the subject so rapidly.

“I have something,” Kix volunteered after a moment of silence. Obi-Wan gestured for him to go ahead. “It’s about the accelerated aging the Kaminoans employed. I know many of us want to dial it down to normal speed.”

Quinlan nodded. “Of course that has to be researched further, we need to ensure that you’re all as healthy as can be.”

“You’ll find that the healers at the Temple are only waiting for your go-ahead there. Bant has everything set up to start as soon as you wish, but we would never invade your privacy like that. If you would like to coordinate with her, Kix, I’m sure she’ll do her best to solve this.”

“Really, I shouldn’t be surprised at this point anymore, Sir,” Kix breathed, “but I still am. Thank you, General.”

Obi-Wan flushed bright red. “I’m only glad your situation improves, it is no more than you deserve.”

Chapter Text

Weeks passed and Quinlan could not shake the weird feeling of something building. On the surface, it was all going well, from the PR campaign to the Vod’e Corps setup. Tholme had let Quinlan know that slowly but surely the shadow investigation was yielding results. Even the Force felt lighter on Coruscant recently.

Still.

It was like the calm before the storm, an unease settling into his bones that persisted and remained.

Surrounding himself with familiar faces held the nervousness at bay, so Quinlan saw Aayla, Obi-Wan, Garen, Reeft and Bant as much as he could, but everyone was always rather busy. His former padawan was on campaign again since last week and the low-key worry that left him with led him to camp out in Obi-Wan’s quarters most evenings even if his friend returned late.

This morning, he had awoken on the ratty couch covered with the Jinn-afghan to the sound of Obi-Wan puttering about in the kitchen. Releasing a massive yawn, he stretched and revelled in the normalcy of the tableau. The coffee table was not stacked with data pads as much currently, Snowflake and Flash’s efforts obviously showing results. All the various assorted plants looked content as well and in front of the window, Obi-Wan’s meditation mat still resonated his imprint into the Force. It was damn near perfect. He felt it would end soon and cursed himself for picking up his friend’s foreboding sense.

Of course his prediction came true half an hour later over breakfast, when Bant called Obi-Wan, the holo showing not only her, but also Kix and to his surprise Crys. Bant and Kix were working on the aging thing, but what a data and slicing specialist had to do with it immediately caused Quinlan to push the rest of his food to the side.

Obi-Wan’s face reflected a similar feeling as he greeted the healer.

Bant came directly to the point. “Obi-Wan, there is something we have found. It’s important and warrants a meeting.” Her large eyes were widened even further than normal and Quinlan could feel the tension in Obi-Wan’s frame skyrocket.

“Who do you need?” he asked, his tone carefully controlled.

“Kind of … everyone?”

It took about an hour until both the Jedi and the Vod’e councils had assembled in the meeting room they had set aside for this purpose. Normally, it was where they coordinated the Vod’e corps coordination meetings, but today had a very different air as everyone took a seat. It was still a round chamber, but as opposed to the High Council Chambers, the walls were lined with one continuous bench and there were no pre-determined seats to accommodate for the fluctuating number of beings in attendance. It was decidedly more informal, Quinlan decided as he settled down between Hanni and Fox, his gaze on Obi-Wan and ever-faithful Cody at his side.

“What do you have for us, Kix?” Obi-Wan asked once everyone had found their spaces. The 501^st medic was pale and Crys and Bant next to him looked equally disturbed.

“We found something in the brain scans during our research to better understand Vod’e baseline health.” Here, Kix came to a halt, seemingly searching for words.

“Well, what is it, vod?” Fox asked slightly impatiently, obviously unnerved by the tense situation.

“Control chips. Overriding any free will we have. And complete with a set of pre-programmed orders. They …” he paused heavily, swallowed and then raised her head to stare blankly at the wall, “they include one to kill all Jedi.”

One could hear a pin drop in the room.

Cody looked shattered and when he turned his gaze towards his general, he physically flinched. “General…” he croaked hoarsely. In a rare, unashamed show of affection, Obi-Wan grasped his hand.

“Calm, my dear commander. We will not let it get to that. We will protect your free will with all we have.”

“We could turn on you. Shoot you in the back.” There was a somewhat hysterical edge to the commander’s voice now. Obi-Wan angled himself so that they were face to face and placed his other hand on Cody’s shoulder.

“Cody, look at me,” he prompted and the clone raised his eyes slowly. “We’ll figure it out.”

“We are a danger to you!”

“Never you, Cody.” Obi-Wan’s voice was soft and steely at the same time and his words seemed to resonate as much with the other assembled clones as they did with the commander. “It would not be you. I would place my life and safety into your hands anytime.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t at the moment.”

“And still I would, for I trust you. And we will find out how you can all trust in yourself again. Until then, will you place your trust in me?”

Everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath. Quinlan personally did not think there was any uncertainty about the answer.

“Yes. Always.” Cody’s voice was a mere breath, but the surety in it as solid as a rock.

“Then let us get to work, my dear.” Obi-Wan gave him a final squeeze and then turned back to Bant. “Tell us all you can, Bant. How did you find them?”

Bant seemed to pick up the cue to get the conversation moving again and together with Kix outlined the process that preceded their discovery. Afterwards, Crys briefly explained the decoding and how they stumbled across the list of orders.

“Who can activate them?” Mundi asked after they had listened to their report.

“The Supreme Commander of the GAR is the position that has the authority.” Bant’s usually salmon skin was slightly ashen as she spoke with a grave voice.

“Palpatine.” Obi-Wan’s head fell into his hand and  sighed. “But this tells us nothing. Because the question is if said Supreme Commander is already the one the Sith intended or if they just plan for them to be there. They are playing the long game, maybe the chancellor is just a placeholder.”

“And if Palpatine is indeed the one who is planned to give the orders, is it him, or does someone pull his strings?”

“We have enough cause a more thorough investigation at the very least. Everyone with access to the chancellor, all his advisors, his potential replacements, even his strongest opponents could be the ones.”

“So the question is if Palpatine is simply a corrupt, power-hungry politician on borrowed time, a mindless puppet, or a Sith.” Quinlan let out a somewhat helpless noise. “We better keep at it then.”

“And we need to prioritise getting rid of the chips. If we can slice into them, others can too. We need to take them out,” Kix emphasised.

“That is a given, Representative Kix,” Mundi intoned. “The thought of you being robbed of your freedom like that is unbearable. And considering the logistics behind this, it is a mammoth task so we better put all our resources to it.”

“No one can know,” Quinlan sighed. “It would force the Sith’s hand before we are ready.”

“Kix, please give us more details about the removal, what would you suggest?” Windu tried to keep the conversation on track.

“Well, brain surgery is time consuming and attracts a lot of attention. We need a cover story to have every Vod come into medical.”

“Is there a non-invasive procedure that could disable the chip? Destroy it, but leave it where it is?” Obi-Wan’s suggestion made Cody stiffen again.

“I want it out.” He still had Obi-Wan’s hand in a death grip and his face was grey.

“We all do, vod, and we will,” Kix agreed. “But maybe we have to see that as the second step, the first being them being disabled.” He nodded to Obi-Wan. “The general is right, unfortunately we are very limited within the time window. A two-pronged approach is our best bet. Maybe there is a corrosive substance suitable for it.”

“What about an electromagnetic pulse?” Allie asked. “It is basically a tech device, maybe there is a jammer that would fry it.”

“But that could potentially be harmful and we have no room for error on the experiments,” Bant ascertained.

“We need Anakin on this,” Obi-Wan finally sighed. The whole room turned to look at him in askance.

“Obes, are you sure, considering how close he is to the chancellor?” Quinlan asked carefully.

“There are few who can emphasize with having a chip that controls what you do as much as he does. And he is one of our brightest mechanics besides his experience and knowledge on the matter.” Obi-Wan’s defence of his padawan was as steadfast as ever.

“If this information got into the wrong hands-“

Obi-Wan cut Rancisis off with a sharp glance. “I am more than aware. I know what is at stakes here.” His gaze rested heavily on Cody for a moment and everyone could very obviously see the affection there. He turned to the room as a whole again. “The last months have changed Anakin. His ties to Palpatine have loosened and we continually underestimate his compassion. Our mistrust will drive him away more than anything the Sith can do, always remember this is a two-way road. We need to trust him, because unless we are able to perform millions of brain-surgeries by next week, we need to find an alternative short-term solution.”

“You believe in General Skywalker, and so will I,” Cody spoke.

“And so do I. He is a friend of the Vod’e,” Kix added, at heart always a 501^st trooper.

“Obi-Wan is right, Knight Skywalker has proven himself recently.” Koon looked thoughtful. “This might be beneficial to him and us.”

“Anakin’s fate has always been a linchpin for this Order, surrounded by shatter points. But for once it is not shrouded in darkness. It is time,” Mace intoned and that swayed everyone in the room finally.

Quinlan released his worries and had to agree that Anakin was their best bet for a fancy tech solution. And Obi-Wan’s trust was rarely misplaced and he wouldn’t gamble on something as important as the lives of his troops.  

Obi-Wan had been spot-on. The mention of the chips lit a fire in Skywalker Quinlan had not seen before.

Together with him and Cody, Obi-Wan had sought the young knight out and had laid the cards on the table, explaining what they needed. The commander had formally asked for his help and entrusted the safety of his siblings to him. Quinlan himself explained that despite them not knowing who the Sith was, it was likely the chancellor or someone near him and that was a security risk of the highest order for the Vod’e.

Maybe Anakin was not quite there yet, but the belief in him, the trust the Jedi and Vod’e were ready to place in him seemed to make him grow before their eyes. They got a vow of absolute secrecy in return and Anakin also promised to stick to this task, not try and determine the identity of the Sith himself, to prioritise the free will of the clones above all other. And this cause seemed to resonate so much with the young knight that he promised quick results.

He did not disappoint. Quinlan had no chance grasping the technological explanation that Anakin delivered to the two councils in less than five days, but from the way some with more knowledge were nodding along, it seemed to be a workable solution. Kix, Bant and Anakin expected the procedure carried out by a small transmitter to take less than ten minutes per clone and had already started the trialling phase. While it was still necessary for medical professionals to be present, it was a far cry from a full on surgery. That had started as well in parallel where possible, but was shaping up to be a slow process. The transmitter solution would clear the entirety of the GAR silently within a matter of weeks.

At the same time, Quinlan checked in with Tholme frequently and both the money trail around the head of the Loyalist Committee Senator Orn Free Taa, but especially the Muun that had approached the Gran senators had yielded results. The Banking Clan was a hornets’ nest, but it was clearly shrouded in darkness. Some shadows had reported that while incredibly potent the dark side felt weirdly stale there. It led them to the assumption that a Sith had had their centre of influence there at some point, whereas now it was centred around the Senate. They were still trying to uncover all tracks, but Quinlan had a feeling that they were on to something.

The passing of time felt hard to bear for everyone.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan and the 212^th had been sent on campaign again and every time Quinlan spoke to him, he seemed to be covered in mud, grime and blood, a bone deep tiredness settling around his shoulders. They returned as scheduled after two weeks, but decidedly worse for the wear and with weary looks in their eyes. Quinlan had engulfed Obi-Wan in a long hug, refusing to let go for minutes and his friend had not moved either.

Quinlan had enlisted Garen to pamper Obi-Wan a bit, for he himself was now more and more involved in the shadow investigation. Cody was at the Temple nearly every day, often accompanied by Staples and the two seemed to make it their primary goal to ensure that Obi-Wan ate and rested. Yoda was reported to be seen leaving the Kenobi-quarters several times in the early morning hours and Windu and Drallig were apparently on salle-duty together where they went at Obi-Wan with startling ferocity at his own insistence.

Obi-Wan was preparing, Quinlan realised. And given his own restlessness, it should be of little surprise that the anticipation he felt in the Force was perceived as much more urgent by his friend who was so finely attuned to the Unifying Force.

Soon, it whispered, soon.

Chapter Text

“It is Palpatine.”

Tholme’s voice rang out clear and Quinlan, standing next to him, already knowing, still felt its resonating power.

“Of course this is mostly conjecture, but we are reasonably sure that the Master before this was part of the Banking Clan, likely a Muun themselves but almost certainly dead. Sidious’ ties are obvious and through following the micro traces in the Force, a team found two old comm relay points. There were data files documenting holo calls where we got through the encryption. They went to the Nubian Palace, the Palpatine’s residences on Naboo and Coruscant and finally the Chancellor’s offices. Now that we knew what we are looking for, we were able to establish traces to known Separatists, including Dooku. Finally, and this is the most damning piece, we found a hidden location in the Coruscant lower levels with a torture chamber. We saw Palpatine enter and afterwards the traces in the Force… they left no room for discussion.”

Quinlan stepped slightly forward and held out his hands. “As you know, I am gifted in psychometry. The investigators brought some items back and I was able to ascertain Palpatine’s presence and imprint. Along with the characteristic nature of the Sith.” He couldn’t help the shudder that went through him at the memory. It had been like tar, clinging to his senses like thick oil, like an overwhelmingly sweet smell making him heady from cutting off his air to breathe.

“We need to assemble a strike force and arrest him. We can end this war right now!” Windu had gotten up from the bench, his hand unconsciously coming to rest on his lightsabre. The room was flooded with nervous anticipation and a sense of action.

“No, stop.” It was Obi-Wan who had spoken and all assembled seemed to stop in their tracks. “We need to discredit Palpatine, if we just show up to arrest him, he will make sure we go down for it, Mace,” Obi-Wan said sharply and the whole council chamber held its breath, Quinlan included. It was not often that Obi-Wan disagreed so directly and vehemently. “This evidence is enough for us, but it won’t hold up in the courts if it even comes to it. We must not lose our heads,” he implored his fellow councillors. “We need to draw him out.”

“A Plan you have?” Yoda’s gaze on Obi-Wan felt heavy, even to those it was not resting on.

“Yes. And it is bigger than you might think.”

And it was. Clones and Jedi alike all listened in disbelief as Obi-Wan outlined his idea. Windu sank down to his seat again in astonishment.

“That is … audacious,” Mundi murmured.

“You have thought about this for a long time, haven’t you?” Cody asked carefully and his eyes were unreadable.

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. “This situation is more than the issue with the Sith. We have steered towards this for months, now is the time to take the step.” Obi-Wan’s conviction burned in the Force almost tangibly.

“What if he does not reveal himself after that?” Quinlan pointed out the obvious flaw.

“Then we will do exactly as we said,” Obi-Wan said easily as if he weren’t rocking the foundations of the Order. “This is not just a means to an end, after all. As much as it sounds wrong, drawing the Sith out is only our secondary objective.”

“The primary one is to preserve our principles,” Master Allie agreed. “This is not just a tactical manoeuvre, this is our future.”

“Well then,” Fox said into the heavy silence, ever practical, “let us plan.”

Despite how far along Obi-Wan’s idea was, there were still countless details to hash out and others to inform. They had to be careful, but managed to brief the Battlemaster, the Head of the Temple Guards and the various Corps Leaders in person over the course of the morning.

Lastly, it was Skywalker they called in on Obi-Wan’s insistence that they keep him in the loop.

Anakin took it better than Quinlan himself had expected. The last few months, but especially the existence of the chips had changed the young knight and while disbelief flooded his face at the news of the Sith’s identity first, it was replaced almost immediately with grieved acceptance.

“So what is the plan now? We are going to confront him, right?”

“Yes, tomorrow at the Senate. But Anakin, we have decided that you should stay here at the Temple.” Obi-Wan had gotten up and stood with his former padawan, the rest of the two councils silent in their seats.

“What? No!” The reply was echoing loudly within the chamber and Quinlan wondered if this would devolve into a Skywalker temper-tantrum now despite all the growth he had shown the last few months. “What about the prophecy? Qui-Gon believed I would defeat the Sith, but how should I do this if I am not there?” He sounded so insecure and Quinlan cursed the day Jinn had thought it would be a good idea to pile this on a nine-year-old child.

Help came from an unexpected source as the marshal commander stepped up from his seat to the pair at the centre. He put his hand on the knight’s shoulder. “You helped us to get into the position to take this step, knowing that we won’t be turned into mindless droids.” Cody seemed to swallow hard at the thought alone. “I don’t care about prophecies, Skywalker, I care about the decisions we make every day. Maybe this is exactly what you were supposed to do, it is now time for us to complete the next part of this journey.”

“And maybe, keeping you away from his leverage is not only about your own safety. Remember how he had your loyalty for years now.” Obi-Wan had finally pulled out the big guns.

This was hard to swallow. Quinlan had wondered himself though. How far did Palpatine’s influence over the knight stretch? Would he hesitate at the key moments?

“Listen Anakin,” Obi-Wan said and now grasped both of his padawan’s shoulders to hold him in place. “I know he is your friend, we don't begrudge you that. The question is only if after such a betrayal, you still feel up to go into the Senate and facing him in a potential confrontation. Can you be sure that you will not be compromised, will not hesitate when he undoubtedly will pull out the honeyed words, will play on your friendship?” He paused. “And Anakin, if we fail, you will be the last line of defence between the Sith and all those innocents in the Temple and I’d feel safer knowing them under your protection.”

“But wouldn’t you have a better chance with me there then?”

“Maybe yes, because this, my dear padawan, is not us not trusting in your abilities. You are an amazing Jedi, no one doubts how far you will go.” Obi-Wan stared imploringly into the knight’s eyes. “It is about how I hope that I will never be asked to fight against someone who I call a friend again. This, here, this is me offering you a kindness I have often wished for.”

That finally seemed to get to him. The frustration on his face was replaced by despair and Quinlan could see tears well up in his eyes. “Obi-Wan …” It was heart-breaking to watch as Anakin surged forward and burrowed his face in Obi-Wan’s neck. “Please master, just make sure you come back safe, all of you.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes as he held the boy tightly. “I will always be with you, Ani. No matter what happens at the Senate, nothing can take how much I love you away from you.”

Quinlan’s gaze darted to Windu and saw him stare at the two with deep, thoughtful eyes. Yoda looked more at peace that Quinlan had seen him in the last few weeks and Master Allie had a fond look on her face. Even Mundi had inclined his head in that grave manner of his. The Order was transforming, they could feel it in the air. No matter what would happen tomorrow, change was already on the rise.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan had meditated the whole afternoon after their final planning session, seeking out a spot beneath a tree in the Room of a Thousand Fountains that Jinn had planted decades ago. Quinlan himself had joined at some point on the fringes of the room, not quite willing to leave, but also aware that he was much more stressed than would be beneficial for his friend to have close by.

Obi-Wan had not been disturbed by anyone, every Jedi apparently feeling how important his communion with the Force was, though Bant, Reeft and Garen, even Siri had all assembled around Quinlan as they waited. His friends did not know the uncovered identity of Sidious, nor the plans for the Senate tomorrow, but they gave comfort and support freely. Quinlan was sure that despite the distance to his mediation spot, he would feel their gentle encouragement and trust in the Force.

In the early hours of the evening, Obi-Wan finally returned to awareness and then settled with them in the grass for a while though it was obvious that he was far away.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Siri admonished when he and Quinlan finally set out to leave for their quarters for the night, grabbing them both in a fierce hug.

While Bant and Reeft fussed over Obi-Wan, Garen pulled Quinlan’s forehead against his. “I don’t know what is going on, but I know you’ll both be in the thick of it. Watch each other’s back, it has always been your greatest asset,” he said softly, eyes closed, but worry lines clear around his mouth.

“Of course, Garen, I’ll look after him,” Quinlan reassured and his friend scoffed.

“Idiot,” Garen muttered as he drew back and his eyes were fierce and gentle at the same time and Quinlan felt his face heat under the intensity of the gaze. “Look after yourself too.”

Quinlan swallowed and nodded. He was then nearly squashed by Reeft who hung onto him for dear life for a full minute and finally then followed Obi-Wan through the mostly empty corridors of the Temple. He’d stay with Aalya later on, but for now he joined Obi-Wan in his quarters and they settled on the couch.

None of them were in the mood for much of anything, but sat in silence for a while.

“I am nervous,” Obi-Wan finally confessed into the silence.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t, Obes.” He let out a chuckle. “I mean, whatever happens, it will change everything. “

If they chancellor did something to reveal himself, they might get the chance to rid the galaxy of a Sith Lord. And hovering behind all of it was the question if they had calculated right. That they were in a position to survive the fallout from killing Palpatine. Even if he attacked first, it would be dependent on so many factors and Quinlan wondered if the last months had done enough for the Jedi to be okay.

But even if none of that would come to pass, they were doing the right thing. They had to remind themselves of that.

He did not offer his friend any empty platitudes, Obi-Wan already knew everything that was in his heart. It was time to look ahead.

“Have you spoken to Cody?” he instead asked.

“Yes, we will both do our duty, he has talked to several of the other commanders and they are prepared for tomorrow.”

“That’s not what I was asking, you know?”

“There’s little more to say, we both understand the significance of tomorrow. For the galaxy and for us.” He sighed deeply, but there was a gentle smile on his face. “I have given him one of my vambraces. And I will wear his tomorrow.”

Quinlan knew a little by now about the Mandalorian origins the Vod’e had used as the basis for their own cultural developments and was immediately aware of the significance of the exchange.

“Congrats, Obi-Wan, you’re well suited,” he praised.

“Are we indeed?” Obi-Wan asked with a wry grin. “I believe so as well. It feels like home.” Such a simple phrase, but Quinlan knew that it meant the world.

They sat together for a while longer, the air lighter and more hopeful now. Finally, Quinlan heaved himself up from the sofa, getting ready to head over to Aayla’s to spend some time with her. He knew Obi-Wan would probably seek out the Force once more to gather himself and go through his words and plans again.

On his way towards the door, he turned back to his friend who looked centred and serene. For a man on whom the fates of entire peoples rested, he looked remarkably calm. “What will you do after tomorrow if we are successful?” he asked.

Obi-Wan stared at him blankly. “I am sure there will be plenty to do. The fallout either way will be considerable, I could oversee –“

“I mean for yourself, Obi-Wan, there are few who poured so much of themselves into this war. You need to re-establish some balance within your life. You could, I don’t know, resign from the council and dedicate your time to that weird crochet thing Garen always goes on about.”

Obi-Wan smiled at him in understanding. “Quinlan, if there is one thing you have taught me in the last few months, it is that sharing burdens has incredible potential. And that it is okay to give things to others as well. I know it is not all down to me and who knows, I might take a sabbatical with one of the independent temples for a while. But at heart, you know I enjoy what I do. Not the war, but helping others, negotiating, teaching, that is all a part of me.”

Quinlan smiled. Yes, maybe he had started out all those months ago with the goal of reducing Obi-Wan’s workload and he still held that as a valid goal. But he also saw how much his friend burned for what he did, how much his work fulfilled him and how he was passionate about it.

Maybe he should remember the advice he had given Skywalker all these weeks ago. Protecting someone at the price of taking away their choices led down a dark path. Forcing Obi-Wan to change himself would essentially destroy what he loved about his friend.

“I know you worry, Quinlan. And I understand why. I am not oblivious how thinly stretched I am frequently. But trust me that I am learning and you encouraging me on my journey there is already doing much.” Here he reached out and took Quinlan’s wrist (always, always his wrists, never his hands, always so careful and considerate). “Believe in me. For tomorrow and the days after.”

“Oh Obi. Of course.”

Aayla was already waiting for him when he arrived, worry lines deep on her face. She had been briefed as she was part of the contingency joining at the senate tomorrow. In total, there would be several hundred Vod’e and at least fifty Jedi, but they had to be careful to be inconspicuous enough in the beginning.

“How is Master Obi-Wan?” she asked, guiding him to her kitchen nook, where she had set out a cold dinner.

“Balanced, of all things. He seems more ready than the rest of us.” She acknowledged that with a nod, appearing less surprised than he’d thought.

“I read over the plans, that is quite the strategy for such a short time,” she observed, serving him some of the salad in the creamy sauce that he enjoyed. “But a lot less councillors are in the Senate than I assumed.”

“Not all our best swordsmen are on the council. And Obi-Wan insisted on there being many low-profile Jedi around. At the same time, he made sure all of them have experience fighting alongside the Vod’e.”

“Masters Obi-Wan and Windu are rather well known, that’s true. They will draw the attention away from the rest of us quite nicely,” Aayla agreed. “Are there actual follow-up plans already in place?” She suddenly sounded unsure and Quinlan could relate. Their plan was a bold one and it would shake the Order.

“There are several protocols and many Jedi have been briefed. Master Yoda will remain here to coordinate if necessary.” Yoda would, alongside Skywalker and Drallig be their defence force and Quinlan indeed felt better that in case things went south, there would be someone ready to protect the Temple and the younglings.

“Hopefully not.”

“Much will change,” he mused.

Aayla nodded. “Have you made plans for after?” she asked.

He chuckled. “I asked Obi-Wan the same. It is a more difficult question than I thought.”

“How about that padawan-sibling then?” Quinlan shot her a look and she laughingly raised her hands in surrender. “Yes, yes, but I’m sure little Dmmt would be thrilled.”

“As would Solma to see more of you,” he shot back and the light blush on Aayla’s face made him smile. “Maybe, right?” he asked and she nodded back at him. “Don’t worry Ay, you’re still my favourite,” he teased and pulled her into his arms. It seemed to be a night for hugs, he thought. There was much at stake tomorrow and he sent a prayer to the Force that all those he loved would be save as he held on for just a bit longer.

Chapter Text

“The chair recognises High General Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, representative of the Jedi Order,” Mas Amedda intoned and the pod that carried his friend rose from its docking station and hovered in the middle of the dome.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan began. “Esteemed Senators, Representatives, Gentle-Beings!” He made a wide gesture, allowing for the tumult to settle. It was not a common occasion that the Jedi chose to address the Senate and the fact that it was such a prominent member with no pre-published agenda had stirred everyone’s curiosity. The slot had been cleared for them through the combined efforts of nearly two-hundred Senators, none of them knowing what Obi-Wan would declare today, but willing to extend their trust.

“What does it mean to be a Jedi?” his friend asked his audience. “I have thought about this question more and more often ever since this war started. You see, when I grew up, I learned it was to help others, stand for those weaker than myself, speak against injustice. No matter where it originates from. No matter any political affiliation, species, wealth or personal feelings, it means to correct what is wrong.” The gentle smile on his face as he remembered the lessons taught in the creche caused several senators to return the gesture wistfully.

But Obi-Wan’s face clouded over. “It was the easy answer for easier times, for certainly, we cannot fix it all. We are just a small people and we understand that many things are a process, that there is no perfect state of the galaxy and there always need be compromises and things move slow in democracy.”

Obi-Wan’s voice hardened now, his brows drawing together. “But there is a point where compromise goes too far, betrays one’s ideals irrevocably, crosses the line into complacency and convenience. For over a year now, the Jedi Order has petitioned for the recognition of sentient being status for the Vod’e. They have fought and bled and died for this democracy, but we have failed them. The Jedi are just as culpable, we recognise our own complicity in the failure of the Clone Rights Bill as we have accepted the status-quo and led them into war.” The genuine grief in his voice settled now even the last of the ever present chatter in the chamber.

He raised his hands in front of him, palm up and bowed his head. “We ask them for forgiveness.” He looked up again with determination in his eyes. “But an apology without amends is not worth anything. This is why the Jedi Order has decided to take consequences to that end.” One could hear a pin drop and Quinlan felt Obi-Wan gather himself for dropping the bomb. He sent him all the strength and support he could in the Force. Obi-Wan squared his shoulders, stared straight ahead at the Chancellor, whose face was a well-crafted mask of polite interest.

This was it.

“In agreement with the Order as a whole, today I declare the withdrawal of the Jedi from the Republic.”

There was a breath of absolute silence before ear-splitting pandemonium broke out.

For several long minutes, there was no single voice to be identified over the din, Amedda’s calls for order lost in the cacophony.

Obi-Wan stood in his pod, unmoving and the eye of the storm as accusations finally could be heard more clearly as the overall noise level decreased.

“You are abandoning the Republic?” “For the clones?!” “This is illegal, you cannot do this!”

Obi-Wan opened his arms, but his voice remained firm. “We will always be willing to help those in need, but we can no longer continue as the executive for a body that does not align with our principles. We will restructure ourselves as an independent body and our first action is the official recognition of the Vod’e as a people and the acceptance of their petition to affiliate themselves with us as a corps within the Order. We are honoured by their desire to join our wider community.” He smiled genuinely here before returning to business.

“Our second step is to petition to this body to be formally recognised as an independent people, for we have no desire to lose contact or be at odds. If you will review the laws, you will find that all our actions are in line with the legal rights that the treaty between the Jedi and the Republic determined at the beginning of our alliance.

“Considering that we expect to no longer be welcome after what I am sure many will consider a betrayal, the Order also has decided to vacate Republic space. The Jedi Temple on Coruscant is already in the process of being cleared. If this Senate recognises us as Republican Citizens, we plan to set it up as an embassy, if not, we will leave as a whole within a month.”

There was a mounting sense of panic in the chamber as the delegations realised how well-considered this plan of action was. Apparently the Jedi were often a convenient scapegoat but confronted with their potential absence, many felt obviously uncomfortable. Quinlan’s eyes roved over the countless beings in the Senate, the many Jedi carefully positioned either with befriended senators or on the viewing platforms. There were several hundred Vod’e as well, but all eyes were on his friend, who drew himself up once more.

Obi-Wan now set out for his concluding statement. “Gentle-beings, I implore to keep in mind that the value of this democracy is not determined by the degree with which we protect our wealth and comfort. It is defined by the way we treat those without power, without protection and without formally recognised rights.” He was a force of nature, Quin could appreciate. Standing there in his pod, he commanded the attention of the whole dome, and Quinlan was reminded of the occasion in the council chamber just a few short weeks ago where they had petitioned for the Vod’e Corps.

“This government is not living up to these ideals anymore and if it is impossible for us to affect change from the inside, we are forced to withdraw because we can no longer give the system validity through our presence. We believe in communication, so let this not be an end, but instead a beginning for a new process, where we each of us strive to be just and fair.”

 He turned directly to the Chancellor again. “Starting with our leaders. Chancellor Palpatine, we call for you to end this war, open peace talks and return the emergency powers you have amassed. The desire for systems to leave this Republic should be cause for transformation and dialogue, not for war!” he called and the accusation rang clear behind the careful phrase.

“This is treason, Master Jedi!” Palpatine shouted back and Quinlan felt how caught off guard he had been by the developments. “You hide yourself behind pretty words, but wish to abscond with the army of the Republic.” The chancellor gestured at Obi-Wan and addressed the contingency of Clones on the viewing level. “Troopers, arrest them immediately, this is obviously a ploy for their long-planned power grab.”

“You mean opposed to yours?” Obi-Wan cuttingly asked and Palpatine did not quite manage to look believably innocently bewildered this time. His face had pulled into an ugly, angry expression and Quinlan felt how the Force seemed to hold its breath as if this was the pinpoint of all that followed. “You have no right to give orders to those who never were given a choice whether they wanted to enter service. You have no legitimacy for it and cannot control their free will!”

Palpatine snarled. “Oh, can’t I?” he asked viciously. He twisted to look straight at Cody. “Commander, execute Order 66.”

Cody stared back at the Chancellor, the eyes of every being suddenly on him. He raised his chin slightly, determination in the set of his shoulders.

“No.”

Time seemed to slow for a moment and Quinlan held his breath. Palpatine had revealed plenty to be suspicious, but not yet to implicate himself enough for sympathies to sway sufficiently in the Jedi’s favour. They just needed a little bit more.

Cody seemed to think the same, because he continued. “The Vod’e are a free people, beholden to no one but themselves. And we decide to align us with justice, with the Jedi. Oya!” He shouted the last bit and the call was resonated by the several hundred Vod’e in the Rotunda with one voice that echoed through the marrow of Quinlan’s bones.

Palpatine lost it. He gave out a furious cry and darkness suddenly flooded the Senate Chambers as if someone had doused all light. From his vantage point, Quinlan could see how he slammed a button on his console and there was a whirring noise filling the air all of a sudden.

“Droids!” someone shouted next to Quinlan, but he was already in motion, because indeed, the very walls of the Senate seemed to open up and droidekas, B2s and drone droids swarmed the chamber and into the surrounding corridors. It was chaos immediately. The Senators and their entourages panicked and tried to retreat from the outbreaking blaster fire.

Quinlan saw how Mace Windu, followed by all the Jedi strategically placed around the chamber along with the clones immediately jumped into action to defend the civilians, but Quinlan’s own attention was drawn to where Obi-Wan had directed his pod on a direct course to the spire the chancellor and his aides were in.

The Sith Lord had already lightened a blood red sabre and with a cry of rage launched himself at Obi-Wan, leaping across the gap to land on the pod and immediately starting an assault of furious slashes. Obi-Wan’s blue blade countered every strike, but his position in the pod with Palpatine standing on the ledge left him no room to manoeuvre.

Quinlan called on the Force himself and ripped a dozen now empty pods from their docking stations to float in the open space. Immediately, Obi-Wan took the opportunity and jumped over to one of them which he then moved with the Force to clash with Sidious again.

Quinlan allowed a glance around the Senate, seeing his fellow Jedi and the troopers involved in the fire fight with the droids. He jumped upon one of the pods and navigated to instead join Obi-Wan in support.

They needed to get Palpatine to ground where they could both engage him and make use of their numbers. The pods did not allow for an effective use of three-way combat and clearly Palpatine planned to pick them off individually. They couldn’t know when other Jedi would be able to support them in fighting the Sith, the droids obviously an unwelcome surprise.

Together they herded Sidious further to the top of the chamber until they collectively crashed through the dura-glass ceiling that separated the chamber from the massive conservatory that sat on the roof of the Senate building. All of them landed on solid ground, the mess of broken glass and dura-steel beams in the middle between them.

A pause only a breath long and Obi-Wan launched himself over the chasm, Quinlan half a step behind him. They engaged Palpatine together finally and the duel heightened in intensity.

Quinlan knew he was no slouch as a duellist, but he felt himself starting to tire quickly. Palpatine’s strikes were heavy and focused, a bastardised variant of Djem So, aggressive and unrelenting. Quinlan was a practitioner of Form V himself, and knew that its strength lay in overpowering your opponent quickly. But he had not enough leverage, power or skill to achieve it with the Sith.

He accepted his role as a minor distraction for Sidious in this duel, the main opponent was obviously Obi-Wan.

Growing up, he had already been one of the most skilled duellist among his peers, but his meteoric rise to a swordfight legend had sincerely kicked off after Naboo. Quinlan knew that Obi-Wan could still wipe the floor with most knights easily using Ataru, but here, now, using Soresu in its purest form… it was beyond what most even imagined.

Everything about his movements became efficient, tight swipes, small steps, no energy wasted but making it look like Palpatine ran into a wall of blue light. The Sith obviously realised he needed all his focus to crack through it and quickly changed gears to take Quinlan out of the equation.

He felt the Force-amplified kick to his sternum before it even hit, powerless as he was to stop it. It knocked the breath out of him and he felt some of his ribs give under the pressure as he careened towards the transpari-steel walls, incapable of slowing. He felt the Force grasp him and pull reverse, not exactly gently, but much better than crashing into the wall at full speed. His back still hit the flat surface painfully and he slid down to the floor.

Despite his Force manipulation to save Quinlan, Obi-Wan’s movements in the duel had not even hitched. Quinlan suspected that his experiences on the battlefield were what enable him to multitask so effectively. He remembered the awed stories by a few of the 212^th shinies of their general pulling them away from danger, stopping flying debris or crumbling droids, all the while charging forward, deflecting blaster bolts.

It must be some sort of battle meditation he reflected, still slightly dazed from the collision. Obi-Wan immersed himself even deeper into the Force as Palpatine went on the offensive again, pressing forward hard. But while Quinlan regained his breath, he saw how the power behind the Sith’s strikes had lessoned just a fraction. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan did not look fresh per se, but except the sheen of sweat on his forehead, no signs of exhaustion manifested physically. Endurance form indeed, Quinlan thought.

His friend twisted gracefully, his movements more sure than they ever had been. The Force was humming around him and guiding his every motion. Obi-Wan abandoned himself completely, just trusting, trusting, trusting, becoming only the conduit through which the Force acted. Palpatine grew more and more desperate, his movements erratic and panicked, eyes searching for a way to flee, because inconceivably he was losing.

Obi-Wan waited still, giving room, stepping back when needed, but Palpatine came no closer to breaching his defences even as he howled with rage, lightning sparking from his hands. The Jedi evaded, observed with sharp eyes, waiting for the one mistake in his opponent.

And in front of Quinlan’s eyes, as if he had been practicing for this moment his whole life, Obi-Wan saw it. He made the slightest sidestep, his muscles contracting and then releasing to slip under Palpatine’s guard.

He executed his final move, a last arc with his sabre and cleanly decapitated the Sith.

Chapter Text

Considering how many world-shattering battles had shaped this war, an event like this, the dull thud of Palpatine’s body hitting the ground, felt almost anti-climactic.

The Force did not clear instantly and they were not bathed in light. Darkness, after all was a part of life and the non-existence of one Sith Lord did not change that fact despite the air having grown less oppressive. Balance was not one victory, it was a constant uphill battle.

Quinlan watched from his place on the ground against the wall as Obi-Wan extinguished his lightsabre, the tension still in the line of his shoulder. Quinlan did not want to interrupt the silence than engulfed them, but he knew it would not last long. When they had pushed the raging Sith away from the crowds and ended up here, he was sure back-up had been called and he could feel Jedi and Clones approaching quickly after what very likely had been their own victorious engagement.

“Obi,” he called softly and his friend let his arm – still outstretched from his final slash – drop to his side and he straightened to leave the half crouch. He turned around and their eyes met across the few meters between them.

“Quin.” Obi-Wan sounded far away. Quinlan had noticed the level of immersion into the Force Obi-Wan had achieved in the battle, it had been a thing of beauty and frankly astonishing and he was only slowly returning to the surface. Quinlan felt in the Force how Obi-Wan released his own feelings of the fight, his relief, his grief at the act of violence he had committed, his worry, his exhaustion.

The master gathered himself visibly and briskly walked to Quinlan and crouched beside him, sparing the corpse of Palpatine not even a second glance.

“Are you injured?” he asked.

“You killed the Sith Lord,” Quin said in response, and he could hear the disbelief and wonder in his own voice. This had been what they had hoped for. That - at the end of this day - it would be a victory for the Jedi. But it had played out all rather differently and Quinlan… he could not really say what he had expected exactly, but this was not it.

“So I have,” Obi-Wan agreed and the way he reached out with the Force to check for injuries was almost as tangible as his gentle hands resting on Quinlan’s shoulders.

“I want some lemon tea,” Quinlan suddenly blurted out and Obi-Wan stared for a second as if he had hit his head too hard. Then his eyes almost melted as he let out a snort in mirth.

“The most sensible thing anyone has said in a week,” he commented and Quinlan dissolved into giggles himself. They had won the day, they were alive, they could still laugh.

It felt like years until they were back at the Temple. The few cuts and the cracked rib Quinlan had acquired had been treated and meanwhile Obi-Wan had probably briefed fifty different people, Windu, Amidala, Skywalker who had arrived by now, Aak, Organa and of course Cody among them, the latter exuding relief so strongly Quinlan was almost heady with it himself as he fussed over Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan himself had asked to be told of the battle within the senate chamber and they received the report of several casualties among Jedi, Vod’e and civilians with a heavy heart for the individuals, but overall it had still been a relatively swift victory.

Next, the press had descended on them and Obi-Wan had participated in fielding questions on that end. It was obvious how much everyone seemed relieved to have the young master at their disposal. The fallout from this day would cause waves for weeks to come, but having The Negotiator run damage control would already make a world of difference in the spin the reporting took that day.

Finally, what felt like hours later and probably was, Bly – bless him – pulled up with a speeder for him and Quinlan to escape, no doubt prompted by Aayla herself. They had not uttered a word until they set down in the hangar and Bly’s “thank you” had been so heartfelt and sincere that it made tears well up in Quinlan’s eyes.

Obi-Wan had accepted it with incredible grace and then manoeuvred them to his apartment, no one daring to interrupt their walk, but every Jedi inclining their head in respect as they passed, the story already circulating.

He felt as if everything was happening through cotton and felt ridiculously grateful for Obi-Wan keeping it together, because he was certain that was the only thing preventing him from losing it. When the passed the “Many Hands” board, he gave a startled hiccup, because it had been one of the first things he had done when his whole Obi-Wan project had kicked off in earnest all those months ago.

Obi-Wan’s hand grabbed his wrist and Quinlan latched on to his Force presence, more stable than it had any right to be after such a day and clear and crisp like a brook in a forest. He focused on it and it all blurred together until he felt himself sitting on his own couch, the smell of the lemon tea lifting the fog around his mind. Obi-Wan nursed a bright orange oversized mug in the armchair across from him, observing him. He seemed to note Quinlan’s return to alertness and gestured towards him and only now did Quinlan realise he was already holding his own tea in that atrocious cup that Aayla had brought him back from a mission to Corellia a few years ago.

He took a sip and grimaced at the sugar that immediately made his teeth feel dull. His friend hummed in amusement. He sobered up quickly though and was obviously preparing to say something important.

“Thank you, Quinlan, today would not have happened without all your investigations, promptings and changes,” he finally said seriously. Quinlan looked to the floor, then up again in embarrassment.

“I did not do much.” Because really, Obi-Wan was the one who had just defeated the Sith and if Quinlan was honest he probably would have succeeded without him in that duel.

“Oh you did and I will not stand for you not knowing.” His friend’s voice was sharper than he had heard it directed at himself in a long time, and his eyes were full of determined fire.

Quinlan could only stare as Obi-Wan suddenly got up from the armchair and dropped to his knees on the ground in front of where Quinlan was sitting on the couch, gently prying the acid green mug from his hands and setting it on the table. He captured Quinlan’s wrists gently between both of his hands and stared him right in the eyes.

“We are all indebted to you, Quinlan.” He spoke slowly, very deliberately, the pads of his thumb drawing small circles on the skin of Quinlan’s arms in a soothing motion. “None of this would have been possible without you stepping up. You changed the Jedi, and for the better. You moved us here, to a place where we could take action and free the Galaxy from Darth Sidious. You were the one who broke the vicious cycle that his machinations had become, disrupted his plans for our certain demise. The stone that caused the ripples in the pond.”

He was speechless in the face of so much genuine appreciation, the earnest expression in those bright, bright eyes pinning him in place.

“Obi-Wan,”, Quinlan breathed, “all that I have done here is because you make me want to be the person you see in me.”

“You don’t have to be anything, Quin. You’re not being kind and compassionate to become a kind and compassionate person one day. You already are. And you’re already, always the best friend I could wish for.”

Quinlan swallowed harshly. “We did it together then,” he offered and the corners of Obi-Wan’s lips lifted gently.

“Yes,” he agreed, “like always.”

It sounded like a promise.