Chapter Text
Dart leaned into Fox’s hug for a few minutes, but then his face fell and he asked, “So if the problem isn’t that we aren’t allowed to be brothers, then what did Master Obi-Wan’s song mean about not being attached?”
Cody shared a cautious look with Fox over Dart’s head. Fox gave him a look that clearly meant “You do it,” and Cody winced minutely.
He was pretty sure “no attachments” did not mean “don’t care about anyone ever again”, but if Dart wanted any more nuanced of an answer than that, he probably ought to get help from someone who actually knew what they were talking about.
He glanced around the clearing, and after a moment lit on Obi-Wan, who had just gotten out of the water and was drying himself off. Obi-Wan wasn’t looking towards them, and he could go stand up and walk over to him, but there was a Force technique he had just learned a week ago that he was supposed to be periodically practicing.
Cody concentrated for a moment, and then reached out with the Force and gave Obi-Wan the mental equivalent of a tap on the shoulder.
Obi-Wan looked up in surprise, then turned around until he spotted where Cody was sitting on the grass and smiled. Cody flashed the hand-signs for Query. Not urgent. and Obi-Wan immediately signed back: Acknowledged.
Obi-Wan finished getting all of his tunic layers adjusted, then made his way over towards them and took a seat in front of Dart.
“I understand there’s a question for me?”
“Yes, sir,” Dart answered respectfully. “What does it mean to ‘strive to live without attachments’ like the song you taught us says?”
Cody squeezed Dart’s shoulder and tried to project pride in his direction. Questions had never been encouraged on Kamino, especially for the CTs, and it was incredibly gratifying to see just how quickly the cadets were getting comfortable asking questions of anyone and everyone.
Obi-Wan smiled gently at Dart. “That is an excellent question, Dart. You’ve been thinking about this since the song, I take it?”
Cody’s eyes narrowed in concern as Dart grimaced, and looked away with a hint of guilt in his expression. “It’s just,” he added, much quieter than before, “Trainer Bric told us, ‘Don’t get attached to your squads. There’s no point caring about them when you’re all just going to be cannon fodder soon enough.’ And, well, the Jedi are supposed to be different! Aren’t you?” The last two words came out in a plaintive whisper, and Cody winced in sympathetic pain.
He had known the Republic was eager to purchase more and more clones to break the Separatist’s offensive, and that Kamino had in turn started shortening his younger brothers’ training times further and further, in the hopes of getting them ready to deploy as soon as possible. There were even rumors they were considering methods to speed up the clones’ accelerated aging even further, to get the cadets physically large enough to wear the armor and man the artillery as fast as possible. But even as the new recruits coming off of Kamino had become less and less well trained, he, his fellow commanders, and the Jedi had done their best to keep them away from the worst of the fighting long enough for them to gain enough experience to have some hope of survival. But that would have become ten times harder if the war had continued long enough for the newest troopers to have shown up already convinced of the inevitability of their deaths.
“Oh, Dart!” Obi-Wan said heavily. “The Jedi are different, I promise you, and neither you nor any of your siblings will ever be cannon fodder to us. May I give you a hug?”
Dart hesitated, so Obi-Wan retreated just a little to give the boy a bit more space. But Cody had the strong suspicion that it wasn’t that Dart didn’t want a hug. “Or from one of us?” he offered gently, wondering if him being another vod would be enough to overcome the recent reminders of Kamino - and their views on interacting with superiors.
Apparently it was, because Dart practically threw himself in Cody’s lap. Cody wrapped his arms around the kid and let him get settled, and then turned back to where Obi-Wan had been waiting patiently.
“Right. So I think we can all agree that Bric was awful and shouldn’t have told you that. But that still leaves the question of what exactly attachment is, and why we should avoid it now that we’re learning how to be Jedi, and what we ought to do instead - because I know perfectly well I’ve seen Jedi caring about each other!”
“Very well said, Cody,” Obi-Wan answered, then looked down to meet Dart’s eyes. “The first thing I want you to know, Dart, is that this is a very challenging topic that even Jedi Knights and Masters have to keep thinking about and working on. I’ll do my absolute best to explain it to you today, and I encourage you to ask as many questions as you like, but if you think of more questions later, or you decide in another week or two you still aren’t sure about it, that’s okay. This is something that will be talked about dozens and dozens of times in your classes and during your padawanship, so you’ll have plenty of chances to keep asking about it. Okay?”
Dart nodded.
“Alright then,” Obi-Wan said. “Now, where to start? I think maybe the most important point is that, from the outside, attachment can look a lot like a healthy relationship, but the thing to remember is that it isn’t healthy. Attachment is always selfish.”
“But how is caring about someone selfish?” Dart protested.
“Ah. Yes, in what Bric told you, it sounded like he was using ‘attachment’ and ‘caring’ as synonyms - words that mean the same thing. The thing is, they aren’t the same, at least not how the Jedi Order defines them.”
“Wait a minute! How can you have words that mean different things depending on who says them! That makes no sense - no one could ever talk to each other or understand each other!”
Obi-Wan chuckled ruefully and admitted, “Sometimes, I think the answer is that people don’t understand each other!”
Cody had to concur; there had been a nightmarish number of changes in going from a perfectly orderly, regulated life on Kamino to the chaos of the GAR, the Jedi, and an actual war, but getting used to Jedi and natborn officers who had completely different ideas of some very basic military terminology hadn’t helped.
Perhaps Obi-Wan picked up on the thought, because he added, “Maybe if I gave you an example from my experience? Could you stand at attention for me?”
Cody, Dart, and Fox instantly snapped to attention, and all around the clearing, every single other clone did as well. The part of Cody that would probably always be CC-2224 noted with pride that the adult troopers in the water seemed to have clearly remembered their lessons on how to ‘stand’ at attention while treading water. The part that was thoroughly Cody was just relieved that each adult trooper in the water had also reached out their non-saluting hand to steady the less confident cadets.
Perhaps it was the sudden absence of sound that alerted him, but Obi-Wan instantly spun around and his eyes widened in dismay. “No, no! As you were, all the rest of you! I’m so sorry - I wasn’t trying to make you all stop what you were doing!”
The troopers dropped out of attention, waved off his apologies with total unconcern, and went back to what they were doing.
Obi-Wan turned back to where Cody, Dart, and Fox were still standing at attention. “Right. You three, and only you three,” he raised his voice slightly for the rest of the clearing, “rest.”
The three dropped into the rest position.
“I always forget just how good clone hearing is,” Obi-Wan admitted with a wince.
“Most of the time we ignore anything that’s not part of our group or specifically directed at us,” Cody shrugged, “but I think the more important part to remember is that that never applies when a superior officer gives something that could in any way be construed as an order.”
“Yes, but I’m not a general anymore!” Obi-Wan rebutted, almost plaintively.
“You’re a member of the High Council of the Jedi Order,” Fox answered drily. “That still counts.”
“Yes, well.” Obi-Wan pulled himself back to his teaching. “Dart, could you describe to us what the ‘rest’ position is?”
“Yes, sir! The left leg moves 30 centimeters away from the right. Hands are mostly to remain behind the back, but can be moved in moderation. The right foot must remain planted in order to keep position in the formation, but the left foot can move. Quiet speech is permitted with nearby members of the formation.”
“Thank you all, as you were.” The three plopped back down on the ground, Dart choosing to sit next to Cody, rather than back in his lap, but still leaning up against him.
Obi-Wan began, “When I was first assigned to be General of the 212th, I had absolutely no military background, and didn’t know any of the military commands or courtesies.”
“It’s true,” Cody couldn’t resist adding in a conspiratorial tone to Dart. “The first time we met he left me saluting for a good 15 minutes because he didn’t know he was supposed to return my salute before I was allowed to drop it!”
Dart giggled at the image, and Obi-Wan put on a faux-affronted look, but Cody could tell he was pleased at the reminder of how far they had come, that Cody was now this comfortable teasing him.
“It was an adjustment on all our parts, I think,” Obi-Wan said diplomatically. “At any rate, when I was growing up in the Temple, ‘rest’ always meant something more like this. Sitting down, relaxing, being able to take a nap if you want to…. It never would have occurred to me for ‘rest’ to mean being allowed to move one foot but not the other, or rules about how loudly you were allowed to talk. But the GAR had very specific meanings for some words that everyone within the GAR understood and could agree on, but other people might not understand at all.”
“And ‘attachment’ is one of those words, just for the Order rather than the GAR?” Fox confirmed.
“Exactly. Caring means liking someone and wanting what’s best for them. Attachment means wanting someone in a selfish way. Wanting them more than anything else - more than your duty and more than their own desires, either.”
Dart just looked puzzled.
“Hmm. So I suspect you can guess why it would be a problem to be focused on a single person above anything and everything else you might be supposed to be doing.”
“El-Les told us that we should never abandon our fellow soldiers if we could save them, but that we also shouldn’t risk the entire mission and all of our other brothers just to save a single soldier.”
“Exactly. It’s one thing for civilians, where the consequences tend to be slightly less dire if something happens and you need to prioritize something other than your work for a few days, but for soldiers, or Jedi, if we’re attached to one person and prioritize them above our duty, we risk letting countless others die. But attachment isn’t even as noble as putting that other person before anything else - attachment is putting your desire for, your feelings for, that person before anything else.”
Dart looked confused again.
“I think I get what he’s saying,” Cody spoke up. “Think about it this way: you told us earlier that ‘19 is considering leaving the Jedi Order because he doesn’t want to fight, but you’d rather he doesn’t go. But what will you do if one day he decides that the only way he can be happy is if he leaves the Order to go… be a gardener on Alderaan, say?”
“I’d tell him he has to write to the rest of us every single week! And send us holos of what he’s growing! And, and, tell us where he is so we can go visit him sometimes!” Dart’s expression dropped. “Unless, would that be attachment? Should we not visit him? Or send messages?”
“No, Dart,” Obi-Wan said gently. “Staying in contact with someone who leaves isn’t attachment. Attachment would be if you told Nineteen that he’s not allowed to leave at all. Because you’d be sad if he left, and it’s more important for you not to feel sad than for him to figure out what would make him happy and then go do that, even if it takes him away from you.”
Dart thought it over, then agreed, “That wouldn’t be very nice to ‘19.”
“No it wouldn’t. So to sum up, attachment is having a selfish relationship with someone where you care more about your feelings than you care about anything else, like your duty, or the other person’s feelings, or even the entire rest of the galaxy.”
“The galaxy?” Fox asked with surprise.
“Oh, yes,” Obi-Wan answered with a touch of grimness. “That’s the other thing. Attachments aren’t healthy for anyone, no matter what the romance holonovels claim, but for most people, if they make a claim like, ‘I’d burn down the galaxy for your sake!’ it’s harmless hyperbole. For a Jedi, with the power we possess, it suddenly starts sounding a lot more like a threat.”
Cody shivered. Anakin had been attached to his mother to the extent of slaughtering innocents in revenge for her death. Then he had been attached to Padme to the extent of shirking his Jedi and GAR duties in the middle of a war to be with her. Without the Vergence, and its revelations, and without their mutual decision to separate until they could handle a relationship more responsibly, how dangerous might Anakin’s attachment to Amidala have become?
“But no matter how attached you are to someone, surely you at least know that most people wouldn’t want the galaxy burned down for their sake?” Dart asked desperately.
“And that’s the other reason attachments are particularly dangerous for the Jedi,” Obi-Wan replied sadly. “The Dark Side. As Jedi, we remember that we cannot control the galaxy. We can fight to save someone’s life, but eventually, we know, everyone dies and returns to the Force. While that is sad, and we might mourn for a while, eventually we choose to accept that change happens, and loss happens, and we must continue on. But if you are attached, you cannot let go and accept the galaxy as it is. You become afraid of losing people. Fear of loss leads to anger at that loss, that anger leads to hatred of anything that might cause such loss. And hatred leads to…?”
“Suffering,” Dart, Fox, and Cody whispered together. They were still learning many of the Jedi sayings and mantras, but that one in particular had stuck in Cody’s head. And he could see it - hadn’t he just become furious in response to the sudden fear of having lost the beauty of this place before ever realizing it existed?
“Exactly,” Obi-Wan nodded. “Suffering, of everyone, and then the Dark Side. And once you succumb to the Dark Side, it doesn’t matter how good your intentions might have originally been. The Dark Side warps everything it touches.
“Everything?” Dart’s eyes were wide.
“Yes. When I was newly Knighted, after having just watched my Master being killed by a Sith, and then killing him in turn, I researched everything I could find in the Jedi Archives about the Sith of old. It did not help me identify Sidious, alas, or even realize just how far Dooku had Fallen, but it did give me a number of examples of just how terrible attachments can become when Jedi Fall because of them.”
“Storytime?” a voice spoke up hopefully from behind Obi-Wan, who spun around in shock to see two-thirds of the expedition’s vode clustered around behind him.
Cody smothered a chuckle. During the war, Obi-Wan had been completely impossible to sneak up on, but in the two months since the war’s end, as he relaxed further and left wartime hyper-vigilance behind, the 212th had managed it a handful of times. Cody didn’t think it would ever stop being hilarious. If asked, though, he’d claim he allowed it purely for the stealth practice.
Once he had his voice and expression back under control he told Obi-Wan drily, “The men mostly don’t eavesdrop on other people’s private conversations, except when they hear a direct order, and, apparently, when they forget that they’re eleven and start begging for storytime like a cadet half their age.”
His chagrin vanished, Obi-Wan offered a reassuring smile to Clip. “I can indeed tell some stories to anyone who wants to listen, though I should warn you all: these are stories about the Sith, and therefore they do not have happy endings.”
Barriss, who had wandered over to see what was happening, took a step back and grimaced. “Master, I’m not sure…”
Luminara gave her a brief hug, then suggested, “Perhaps some of the vode would rather join you for a game on the other side of the lake?”
Barriss nodded in relief, and most of the younger cadets, and even a few of the older cadets and troopers, left to follow her. Fox looked torn for a moment, before settling back down next to Cody. Cody raised an eyebrow in question, but Fox whispered back, “Better to know your enemy.”
“Now, where to begin?” Obi-Wan asked rhetorically. “Ah, yes, perhaps this one.
Several thousand years ago, back before Darth Bane and the Rule of Two, there was a Jedi Knight. They had been a Knight for several years, but still loved their former Master very much.
Now as it happened, one day that former Master decided to leave the Jedi Order and struck out on his own. When he reappeared a little while later, he had Fallen. The young Knight was disconsolate, begging for the opportunity to seek out their Master and bring him back to the Light. The Council was hesitant, so eventually the Knight decided not to wait any longer but instead sneak away.
Testimonies from the friends they left behind say that the Knight was planning to pretend to have Fallen, touching the Dark just a little bit - just enough to get close enough to their former Master to convince him to repent. No one knows at what point that plan went awry; all the Order records show is that the next time the Sith Lord appeared he had a Sith apprentice with him - the Knight, now Fallen themselves.
The Knight’s friends held out hope for some time that it was still a trick, an act, but as more and more reports came in of the atrocities the two Sith had committed, it became clear that the Knight was indeed Fallen. Less than a year later, the former Knight decided their Master was holding them back and killed him to become the new Sith Lord.
In the end, it took a six-person Jedi strike team to end the Sith Lord’s reign of terror.
“That was awful,” ‘52 said into the silence as the story ended. “I mean, the Knight wanted to save their Master, but then they ended up killing him instead?! The Dark Side makes people really stupid.”
“That’s why you never… with Count Dooku?” Cody couldn’t resist asking quietly.
“I confess I considered it, many times. As his grandpadawan, there weren’t many others in the Order who would have had as much of a chance as me at bringing him back to the Light. But the Dark Side is an addiction, and while we have a few records of those who have left the Dark and returned to the Light, they are very, very rare. If Dooku one day wishes to repent of his actions and return to the Light, I’ll do everything in my power to help him. But I won’t risk my own soul, much less the damage I could do to everyone else were I to Fall, by believing I somehow have the strength to deliberately touch the Dark Side and not have everything go horribly wrong.”
Fox was clearly working down a different train of thought. “So an attachment can be to a mentor, and you mentioned something about romance holo-novels earlier. Does an attachment have to be to a person?”
“Not at all. Shirking one’s duty can be a sign of attachment, but it’s also possible for the duty itself to become an attachment.”
“Wait, how does that work?” Dart asked skeptically. “Duty can be an attachment?”
Luminara came and knelt in front of Dart. “Dart, when you were a cadet on Kamino, would you say that your biggest duty was to follow orders?” When he nodded, she went on, “But what about when orders are wrong? What if I ordered you to do something you know is wrong - maybe because I’m confused, or there’s information I don’t have, or because I’ve just Fallen and I decided to give you evil orders today?”
Dart’s eyes were round, and so were the rest of the cadets’. Cody felt bad for them, in some ways - it wasn’t easy contemplating that a foundation of your existence might not be as absolute as you had always been taught it was. On the other hand, Cody hadn’t realized he might have to strategically disobey orders until halfway through his second battle under Obi-Wan, when he had been ordered to call in an airstrike directly on top of an entire battalion of troops, and then the comm signal had cut off before he could so much as object. Thank the Force, he hadn’t given the order. When he confessed to Obi-Wan later, Obi-Wan had been horrified, not having known there were troops in the planned strike zone, and had refused all of Cody’s attempted apologies for his disobedience.
As the war had gone on, the two had learned to trust each other more. At least once Cody had called in an airstrike directly on top of a squad’s heads, knowing that Obi-Wan knew what he was asking because he was there with them - and, indeed, he kept them safe. But he also learned to trust himself and know when there were orders that needed to be modified to fit with changing conditions on the ground.
Far better for the cadets to understand these challenges now than wait until they were out in the field.
And to return to Obi-Wan’s original point, Cody had absolutely seen natborn officers who were so fixated on their conception of their duty that they absolutely would have burned the rest of the galaxy down once Palpatine revealed himself and gave the order to do so.
“Duty absolutely can be an attachment,” Obi-Wan affirmed, “and so can patriotism, or any number of other beliefs. For example…
Another Knight, about a thousand years later, once the Sith were thought to be extinct, still had very close ties to their home planet. The Jedi Order generally strives for balance - encouraging Jedi to have some connection to their home planet and culture, but not so much as to become biased in their dealings with them. But this was a Jedi who had come to the Order later than most, and who still had immense loyalty to their planet and the family they had left behind.
All was well for many years, until a dictator rose to power over that planet, and some of the people began to rise up and resist.
The Knight went to the Council, and begged to be allowed to go and intervene. The Council pointed out that it was unlawful for the Jedi to intervene directly until the people of the planet requested their aid. The Knight could best serve by continuing their current mission while other Jedi offered diplomatic aid to the war-torn planet. If the Knight could not stay away, they should work to convince all sides of the conflict to request Jedi and Republic support in negotiating a diplomatic solution to the problem.
The Knight was unhappy with these suggestions. The dictator had hurt the Knight’s planet, the Knight’s people, and therefore any diplomatic solution would no doubt be entirely insufficient in making the dictator pay.
So the Knight made their way to the resistance, and offered their services to fight back, all the while discouraging them from requesting any off-planet aid other than bigger and better weaponry.
The resistance fought back, and with a Force user on their side, it took very little time before the dictator was assassinated and the government fallen.
Perhaps things could still have been salvaged at that point. Have fair trials for anyone who committed atrocities, set up a new government with safeguards against further dictators, and attempt to restore peace and understanding between the people who had been pitted against each other.
That wasn’t enough for the former, now Fallen, Jedi, however. Democracies are messy; you never know what will happen and by definition, no one person can control the outcomes. So instead, they set themselves up as a new dictator, with dramatic executions of all who supported the old regime.
By the time they started in on the dramatic executions of those who weren’t supporting the new regime quite obsequiously enough, the people had had enough.
A new rebellion rose up, and even the Force wasn’t enough to save the new dictator’s life. But the new rebellion was just as paranoid as the old resistance, and eventually yet another coup occurred.
Finally, one group got up the courage to request outside aid to negotiate an actual end to the fighting. Ultimately, it took decades of concentrated work from all sides before everyone was confident the violence wouldn’t restart the moment someone turned their back, and by that point, nearly a quarter of the entire planet’s population was dead.
Obi-Wan sighed as he ended the story. “The Jedi aren’t miracle workers. Perhaps calling them in from the beginning wouldn’t have been enough to stave off the violence, and negotiating with dictators can often enshrine inequalities and injustice into law. So we don’t know what would have happened, had that Knight had the strength to let go of the situation and allow other, less emotionally compromised, Jedi to handle it. But I find it hard to believe any other outcome could have been worse than that one.”
“You really weren’t kidding when you said these stories didn’t have happy endings,” Fox said unhappily.
“How about since then? Is the planet doing okay now?” Dart asked with concern.
“Yes, Dart, they’re doing just fine. They were threatened by Separatist forces a couple of times, but the GAR always managed to chase them off before they reached the planet’s surface to do any damage.” Obi-Wan thought for a moment. “I’m not sure I have any truly happy stories about attachment, Fox, but how about I end with one final story that’s at least a little nicer than that one…
Back a long, long time ago, in the time of the Old Republic, a Jedi had a Force sensitive baby daughter. Instead of asking for the child to be raised in the creche, as was common for children of Jedi, the Jedi decided to leave the Order to raise the girl alone.
Now, to be clear, this is in no way wrong. Jedi have the same rights as any parent regarding whether or not to give their child to the Jedi Order. That said, Jedi tend to understand far better than the rest of the galaxy why it is valuable for a Force sensitive child to grow up in the creche - the training, the support, even the oversight as they learn to use dangerous powers for good rather than for ill. For a Jedi to disregard all that and assume they can take on all those roles themselves while raising a child… it makes one wonder whose sake they’re really doing it for - their child’s, or their own?
At any rate, the girl grew up happily enough until the day when old enemies from her parent’s time in the Order kidnapped her. Her parent was furious, naturally, and cut a wide swath of destruction until they found the place where their daughter was being held and brought her home.
For a while, all was well. She felt safe, knowing she was so well protected, and anyone who tried to hurt her again would face her parent’s unbridled wrath. But then she started to notice some worrying signs. Her parent had always been somewhat controlling, but tempered with love and understanding. Now she wasn’t allowed to attend school any longer, but had to be taught by tutors at home. For a while she was at least allowed to have friends visit - up until one of them said something cross to her and visits were promptly banned permanently.
The breaking point came when she tried to sneak out one night to visit an ill friend and was promptly physically punished, then locked in her room, ‘for her own good.’ Morning came, and the locks stayed on. A week passed, and the locks still stayed on. It took her three weeks and some very brave friends before she was able to escape the house, make it to the spaceport, and ask for sanctuary at the Jedi Temple.
When the Fallen Knight realized their daughter was gone, they tracked her to the Temple. Upon confirming she was there, they threatened to burn the Temple down - with her in it - for daring to take her away from them.
They were eventually captured and sent to a distant Temple to spend the rest of their life in meditation and contemplation.
The daughter was accepted to the Temple, despite her age. She struggled with attachment herself growing up, but recording the account of what had happened to her helped her work through it, and make different choices herself, and eventually she grew up to be a renowned Master and Councilmember.
“So there you have it,” Obi-Wan finished. “Three people who all had the best of intentions, but they were also attached to someone or something. They allowed their fear of losing it to draw them into the Dark Side, and once the Dark Side took them over they no longer even claimed to care about whomever they originally Fell for - they only cared about their own power and ability to control everyone and everything around them.”
“So we should love and care about other people, but in an unselfish way that thinks about what’s best for them and for everyone, and not be so scared about losing them that we turn to the Dark Side and try to kill them ourselves.”
“Excellent summary, Dart!” Obi-Wan praised.
“Thanks! Um, ‘52, ‘19, I’m sorry for how I was acting earlier. I didn’t understand that it was okay for us to still be brothers. I was afraid of losing you, and so I was angry and said mean things to you and wasn’t nice to you, and that was wrong.”
The two other boys, who had stayed lurking around the edges of the group during the stories, pushed between the other vode until they were close enough to pounce on Dart.
“We forgive you! Just don’t be an idiot and do it again!” Cody thought he heard from somewhere deep inside the pile.
After almost getting hit by a flailing limb, Cody thought discretion was the better part of valor and stood up and stretched. “Looks like the sun is starting to go down,” he remarked.
The planet, Dorn 3792-04 until they came up with a better name for it, would still be visible in the sky for hours yet, giving some degree of light, but it was probably a sign to start heading back.
Everyone packed up the last towels and bits of clothing, handed out one last round of snacks to everyone, and headed off.
It wasn’t long before the cadets started yawning a bit, and Cody and the rest of the fully grown troopers picked them up eopie-back. It took a bit of advice from Barriss to figure out the best ways to ensure the cadets felt secure without strangling their older brothers, but soon enough they were back to marching.
The cadet sleeping peacefully on Cody’s back weighed significantly less than a full suit of armor, but Cody was entirely sure that that wasn’t why he much preferred this weight.
Conversations ebbed and flowed, and more songs were sung. Cody grinned as Fox offered, “Hey, Dart, want to lead us all in ‘Vode An’?”
Dart considered a minute, then nodded. “Yeah, let’s sing that one, but after that, we should try the one that Master Obi-Wan taught us this morning again.”
In what seemed like a much shorter time than the trip out (though that could also have something to do with the littler cadets napping peacefully, rather than running back and forth trying to see everything, or, for that matter, the lack of a reprise of Cody’s own freak-out and the subsequent meditation lesson), they could see the lights of the Temple entrance ahead of them.
The cadets stirred as they approached, and most of them asked to be let down.
Cody obliged, then shepherded the group into the main refectory, where, sure enough, several dozen plates were being brought out of the kitchen, all piping hot and piled high with more different kinds of foods than he had seen during his entire time on Kamino put together.
Just before he sat down, Dart tugged on the hem of his tunic.
“Cody, sir? We wanted to tell you something.”
Cody nodded encouragingly, as ‘19 and ‘52 came up on either side of Dart.
‘52 squared his shoulders. “Thank you for helping me with the levitation practice today, sir.”
“And thank you also, sir, for what you told Dart. He told me what you said, and that you agreed with the Jedi that it’s okay that I don’t want to fight.” ‘19 hesitated. “I know sometimes people have to fight to protect themselves or other people, but in the story Master Obi-Wan told us today about the planet having a civil war, fighting probably wasn’t the best way to stop the civil war and protect people. And even if the GAR had to fight the Separatists, they also still need a bunch of people to talk to them now that the fighting is over, and if they do it right, maybe they can make sure none of the vode or the Jedi have to fight again. So I think that’s what I want to do when I grow up, and I think,” he hesitated again, but then forged onward, “I think I want the name ‘Peace.’”
“That is an excellent name, Peace,” Cody told him, “and that’s an excellent reason for choosing it.”
“I want to be Pebble!” ‘52 - Pebble - burst out a moment later.
“Also an excellent choice, Pebble,” Cody answered. “Is there a reason you decided on that name?”
Pebble suddenly became shy. “Well, um, I was always getting judged for being small for my age, on Kamino. But seeing some of the ways that Master Obi-Wan and Master Luminara could move the pebbles this afternoon, that was so cool! And when I moved my pebble, even though it was small, it actually made you have to dodge! Well, maybe you didn’t have to, but you did anyway. And Master Yoda certainly isn’t weak or worth less just because he’s small. So maybe pebbles are just as cool as bigger rocks, and I don’t have to be big to do cool things.”
“That’s an excellent realization, Pebble!” Cody praised.
Dart hugged both Peace and Pebble, but then his face fell just a little. “I don’t have a good story like that for my name. I just thought it sounded cool when you told me not to dart off the path like that.”
Cody smiled gently. “Names don’t have to have a meaningful story behind them, Dart. If you decide you want to change yours at some point, that’s entirely okay, but you can also have a name just because you think it’s cool. Have any of you ever heard how I got my name?”
“No, tell us!” several eager voices responded.
“During training, one of our instructors showed us some clips of a holoshow called Commando Cody: Sky Marshal of the Universe! I think the point of the lesson was supposed to be examples of what to do and not to do with a jetpack, but I decided Commando Cody was extremely cool, and therefore I was going to be named Cody, become a commando, and be the best in the entire GAR at using a jetpack.” Cody laughed a little at his younger self. “Well, I didn’t become a commando, and I’m only passable at using a jetpack, but I still think the name Cody is cool and I’m glad I chose it.”
“I think Cody is a very cool name, too,” Dart said loyally.
“Thanks, Dart.” Cody gave the boy a hug, then reached out his other arm to pull in Pebble and Peace, too.
“Sometimes the galaxy changes, and things don’t happen how we expect them to. I’m not a commando, and I’m no longer a commander, but that’s okay. Because I think that getting to spend time with all of you, and live in the Temple here, and learn how to become a Jedi, is far, far better than the things I was hoping for back on Kamino.”
As Obi-Wan told them: change happens, and you have to be willing to let go of the things you were holding onto. And then, just maybe, if you trust the Force, things will turn out far better than you ever dared to dream.
The End