Chapter Text
The official military base of the GAR was buzzing with activity, though not the usual to and fro of planetary battle campaigns. No, something was different, off, and General Jinn sensed it the moment he set foot out of the gunship.
“Uh, General?” His clone commander began, joining him where he stood in the middle of the chaos.
“Your guess is as good as mine, Quin,” Qui-Gon replied, arms crossed as he scanned the massive docking bay for a familiar face. Well, they were mostly all familiar faces, but he was looking for a Jedi General or a member of the Council in particular, not a trooper.
“Hey,” he heard Quin bark at some private dashing past them, “what’s going on here?”
The private, who Qui-Gon recognized by the color of his armor to be one of Plo’s Boys, slowed his run long enough to offer a brief explanation. “Backup mission, sir.”
“Backup? On what campaign?” Quin demanded to know and Qui-Gon admired his second-in-command’s persistence.
“General Skywalker’s requested reinforcements on Kadavo.”
And then he was gone, disappearing into a cluster of clones stocking a nearby medical craft.
A medical ship. Qui-Gon’s heart skipped a beat. Was Anakin in danger? And Ahsoka, what about her? Was she safe? Was she in trouble?
While this war had prepared him for the constant possibility of death, the loss of his dear Great Grand-Padawan was something he wasn’t yet prepared to handle.
And where was Obi-Wan in all this?
His feet were moving before his mind could decide where they were headed. He needed to find Plo Koon; to find out what in the stars was going on. Qui-Gon found the Jedi Master preparing to board the main gunship docked further down the hangar floor.
“Qui-Gon,” Plo greeted him cordially, but the general found his smile lacking. “Back so soon from Felucia?”
“The Separatist threat on that planet was a joke,” Qui-Gon replied. “It didn’t take long to wipe out their forces there. It looks as if your troops are anxious to be somewhere.”
The Kel Dor Master’s expression changed, clearly warning Qui-Gon not just to conclusions.
“Anakin and Ahsoka need backup. My troops and I are preparing an assault on the Kadavo System.”
“Isn’t that in Wild Space?”
Plo Koon nodded, breaking off the conversation for a moment to instruct several troopers.
“And refresh my memory, if you will,” Qui-Gon continued, his tone the essence of passive-aggressive, “isn’t that system under the control of the Zygerrian Slave Empire?”
“That is correct, my friend.”
“Then why, I wonder, are my Padawans requesting reinforcements from such a seemingly awful place? I don’t recall any Separatist forces stationed so far out of the reaches of the Republic.”
An alarm blared, cutting off any reply the other general was about to offer. It was the signal for all ships to begin their ascent into the waiting flagship above.
“I’m sorry, Qui-Gon, I have to go.”
“But why—?”
“I’m afraid this is a matter you’ll have to take up with the Council.” And without another word, General Plo Koon stepped into the gunship, saluting Qui-Gon before the doors closed.
“Oh, believe me,” Qui-Gon muttered as the ship’s engines fired up, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, “I will.”
“When were you thinking would be the best time to tell me?” Qui-Gon began, fixing his hardest glare on Mace Windu, who looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but standing with his old friend. “Before or after they were captured?”
“The situation is still unclear,” Mace replied, voice laced with caution.
“Then make it clear, Mace. Make it clear to me why the Council thought it would be a good idea to send them on such a dangerous undercover mission? We have plenty of Shadows who would have been up to the task!”
“Listen, Qui, it didn’t begin as an undercover mission. The main objective was to free the colonists of Kiros from Dooku and the Separatists. Things apparently got out of hand and—”
“I’ll say they did!”
“And both Skywalker and Kenobi made the conscious decision to move ahead with the mission. The Council was not included in the final say, we were only there as a guide.”
Those idiots… Of course Anakin would be the first one involved with anything involving the liberation of slaves, a worrying thought to say the least. And Obi-Wan would be right behind him.
“And don’t forget,” Mace continued, “Obi-Wan is on the Council.”
Right. He supposed that was something he would never get used to.
Qui-Gon heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “All right. Just tell me what the damage is.”
Here, Mace hesitated. “No one knows yet.”
“You mean to say you haven’t kept in contact with them?”
“We lost contact about a week ago,” the stoic Jedi Master confessed.
Qui-Gon’s expression was livid. “A week? And you didn’t think to send out reinforcements? You had to wait until Anakin asked for them specifically?”
“That is usually how it goes, as I’m sure you’re well aware.”
“Yes, I am well aware!” Qui-Gon snapped. “What I want to know is why in the Seven Hells did you let them do it? You know they aren’t trained for this sort of mission! Especially not Ahsoka!”
“I told you, the Council wasn’t included in the final decision, and everything that occurred after we lost contact was up to them. It was their choice, Qui-Gon.”
Obi-Wan should’ve known better. Anakin he could trust to avenge his emotions at any given moment, but Obi-Wan…
He should’ve known better.
Or perhaps he did. Perhaps he knew exactly what he was doing; knew the consequences of continuing the mission.
And the consequences of giving up.
Qui-Gon shuddered to think of all those colonists being held at the mercy of some of the worst slavers in the galaxy.
Bring them home soon, Plo, he pleaded as he felt a hand brush lightly against his shoulder.
“They’re going to be all right, Qui-Gon. Plo Koon will bring them home safely, and then you can scold them till your heart’s content.”
“Don’t think I won’t,” Qui-Gon replied, but his feeble attempt at humor fell short in the wake of the situation. His mind was racing, running through each possible scenario; every way they could possibly be killed, or worse.
“Anakin and Ahsoka need backup.”
Plo’s words echoed over and over again through his mind. There was something wrong with the statement, yet he couldn’t seem to figure it out.
“Anakin and Ahsoka need backup.”
“Anakin and Ahsoka need backup.”
“Anakin and Ahsoka…”
Qui-Gon’s breath hitched and he suddenly found the air in the room lacking.
Anakin and Ahsoka…
… Where’s Obi-Wan?
It took every ounce of whatever self-control he still possessed not to rush over and bombard the trio with questions and concerns at the get-go. So, for the time being, he had to force himself to watch from a distance. The hangar bay was still buzzing, but this time, the activity felt normal once again.
It was for this reason that the three disembarking Jedi seemed so terribly out of place. They looked awful, Qui-Gon observed. Weary, scarred, and abused.
And just the sight of it was making him physically ill.
He watched as Anakin said something to Captain Rex, who departed the bay at a rather slow pace, Kix hovering beside him—a bit too close for comfort, it seemed.
Shortly after this exchange, Anakin turned to Ahsoka and Qui-Gon noticed Commander Cody tug Obi-Wan slightly off to the side, beginning what appeared to be a heated exchange.
Qui-Gon decided now was as good a time as any for him to insert himself into the situation. By the time he got within ten feet of the ragged group, Anakin had joined the shouting match, taking Cody’s side as Ahsoka watched from the sidelines, worry etching deep lines on her youthful face.
“Yeah?” Anakin was saying when Qui-Gon finally came within earshot. “And when exactly do you plan to do that, huh?”
“When it’s too late again, no doubt,” Cody added, his tone sullen.
Qui-Gon watched his former Padawan sigh, a shaky motion that seemed far too painful for his liking. He picked up his pace.
“The mission debrief is top priority. After Anakin and I finish with the Council, I will…”
Though slight and barely noticeable, Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan sway on his feet.
“You’ll what?” Anakin pressed, crossing his arms across his chest, his skepticism practically bleeding off his tall frame. “You can’t even say it, can you?”
“Anakin…”
“Obi-Wan.”
“Master Qui-Gon!” Ahsoka’s hopeful voice sliced through the gathering tension, alerting them all of Qui-Gon’s presence. Then, without warning, she flung herself into his arms and hugged him with all her might.
To say he was surprised would be an understatement. While the four Jedi had an unusually close relationship with each other—far surpassing that of any other lineage in the Temple—the young Padawan had never been one to show affection so openly, taking a page out of Obi-Wan’s book instead of that of her own Master’s.
It only seemed fitting to hug her back, and as he did so, Qui-Gon could feel the hurt and anxiety clouding her Force presence. He held her tighter.
Clearing his throat, he glanced at Anakin and Obi-Wan, scanning for signs of the same worrying emotions in them, but finding nothing. “Welcome back. I heard you all went on your first undercover mission.” Try as he might, he couldn’t quite keep the accusatory tones out of his voice.
Obi-Wan’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “How soon he forgets that the Jedi are no strangers to going undercover.”
“Yeah,” Anakin continued, “what about all those times Obi-Wan and I went undercover when I was a Padawan?”
“And the missions you and I went on before that,” Obi-Wan added, his smile morphing into a smirk.
Qui-Gon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I meant your first against the Separatists.”
Anakin clenched a fist. “The Zygerrians aren’t your typically Separatists.”
“It wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle,” Obi-Wan offered, earning a stoney glare from his commander.
“Yeah,” Anakin replied, “because you’re handling it so well right now.”
“Anakin…”
“Obi-Wan.”
“Enough!” Qui-Gon shouted, hating the way Ahsoka flinched in his arms.
Silence, the tension thickening again as the two generals refused to make eye contact with him.
What has happened here? He wondered, taking in their appearance with a critical eye. There were faint scorch marks on Anakin’s wrists and neck, and Obi-Wan looked as though someone had repeatedly run him over with a tank full of droids. Yet, these scars and bruises didn’t look like the work of a Separatist or even a Sith Lord… Who did this to them?
The heavy silence was broken by Obi-Wan clearing his throat. “Well, I’m afraid Anakin and I are needed in the Council Chambers.”
“But you promised when we got back you’d—”
“They’re waiting, Anakin.”
A silent conversation, one Qui-Gon didn’t have time to decipher, passed quickly between the former Master and Apprentice before Anakin finally gave in.
“Fine. But as soon as we’re done—”
“Of course,” Obi-Wan replied a bit too hastily.
“General, are you sure you’ll be—”
Again, Obi-Wan interrupted. “Don’t worry about me, Cody. Come on, Anakin.”
As the two began their trek to the Council spire, Qui-Gon briefly met Obi-Wan’s gaze before his Padawan averted his eyes once more.
A shiver ran down his spine. Obi-Wan was purposefully hiding something from him. But what? And why?
He felt Ahsoka pull away from him, a pained expression marring her face.
“Ahsoka,” he breathed, glancing back at the retreating Jedi, “what happened?”
The Togruta took a shaky breath. “It was bad, Master Jinn.”
Anxiety gripped his chest.
“Master Plo says we never should have been there, but…”
Qui-Gon shifted his gaze back to the troubled Padawan. “But what, young one?”
“But… I can’t help but wonder what could’ve happened if we hadn’t been there. The colonists—my people—would still be slaves. I don’t regret what we did… I just hope that,”—Here, her blue eyes misted over—“that my people will be able to recover from this. That Master Obi-Wan will be able to recover, too. And Rex. And Anakin.”
“And what about you, Ahsoka?”
Genuine confusion shone off her face. “Me, Master?”
“Will you be able to recover?”
Silence.
“Are you all right?”
She looked to the floor. “I just wanted to help them, but I don’t know how.”
“Who?” Qui-Gon probed.
“Obi-Wan. Anakin. Rex. They all suffered so much. I… I’m worried about them.”
“As am I,” he replied solemnly.
“Will you…” She sniffled slightly, trying to keep what Qui-Gon guessed to be days of unshed tears at bay. “Can you help them?”
At this, he slipped her tiny hand into his large, gentle one. “I will certainly try.”
Even if it takes me to my last breath, I’ll get to the bottom of this, he vowed, his mind reaching out to his former Padawan, only to find that his mental shields were firmly in place. Of course.
He slid an arm around Ahsoka. “I promise. They will be all right.”
As they walked out of the hangar together, Qui-Gon hoped this was a promise he would be able to keep.