Chapter Text
The comm arrived during a otherwise standard pre-hyperspace setup. The 212th was set to liaison with the 501st near Alderaan, where if no crisis occurred the men would be granted leave over the course of a few rotations, courtesy of Queen Breha’s public willingness to allow Clones to roam freely on the planet.
“Comm coming through the GAR Command channels for you, General.” One of the bridge officers said.
“Patch it through,” Obi Wan replied, not even looking up from the holopad Cody had handed him a moment earlier.
“General Kenobi, this is Ja’ak Nadishir of the Republic Welfare Commission.” An older Twi’Lek woman spoke on the holo.
Obi Wan looked up, slight confusion crossing his features before they smoothed out to his usual genial calm. “What can I do for you, Lady Nadishir?”
“My contacting you concerns matters you may consider somewhat personal, General. It may be best to continue this call privately.” She replied. Her tone was calm and professional, there was a clear note of trepidation in her voice.
Obi Wan raised an eyebrow, glancing at Cody as though he would have any idea what this was about. Cody simply raised one back; if it wasn’t likely to get anyone killed on the battlefield, he tried not to keep track of all of Obi Wan’s various semi-legal ventures and associates, for his own blood pressure as much as for his plausible deniability.
“Very well, if you think it best. Commander, the bridge is yours. Lieutenant Slice, please reroute the call to my office.”
“Sir!”
“Any idea what the Welfare commission wants with you, sir?” Cody asked.
“None. Though if it has anything to do with Anakin, I’m sending every agency in the Republic his personal comm number.”
“Perhaps Rex lost him at a market, and they found your number written in his robes.” Cody said wryly.
Obi Wan snorted. “I do hope not; if he’s gotten himself arrested I’m comming Master Windu.”
Cody saluted, sarcastic stance likely unreadable to anyone who didn’t know him like Obi Wan did.
Obi Wan made his way to his small office just off the bridge. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, and whenever possible he much preferred making the trek to his quarters to conduct business. But the call was mysterious, and he didn’t want to make the trip for nothing.
He activated the holo in his office, shutting the door behind him.
“How may I assist you, Lady Nadishir?” Obi Wan asked.
“General Kenobi, I am contacting you regarding the recent arrest of your son.”
Obi Wan blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“He was arrested on Temako five days ago, and it took us some time to establish a positive identification when he refused to co-operate. As this is his first known offense-”
“My apologies, but I believe there has been some mistake. I don’t have a son.”
On the holo, the twi’lek pursed her lips in a way that communicated exactly the level of her disapproval.
“You are Obi Wan Kenobi, yes?”
“Yes, of course, but-”
“And you registered a marriage with one Jango Fett on the planet Mon Gazza?”
Obi Wan stilled, a sudden cold fear creeping over his skin.
“I’m not certain I would consider it ‘registered’.” He said, attempting to sound more confident than he felt.
“During Mon Gazza’s short tenure as an agent of Republic space, all civil documentation recorded in Miner’s Town was copied to Republic archives. A ceremony considered a cultural equivalent to a Republic marriage licence was registered two years after the event and no divorce was registered in Republic record. Are these records inaccurate?”
“I suppose not.” Obi Wan said softly. Two years- long enough after their parting that he knew, without a doubt, that Jango had made it a part of his long plan.
“In which case, under the rule of the Republic Welfare Commission, in accordance with amendment 263.7 of the Youngling Welfare Act, you are considered the legal parent of one Boba Fett, as Jango Fett’s surviving spouse.”
“Legal parent.” He croaked. “I see.”
“Would you like to surrender custody of one Boba Fett to the Republic Disciplinary Commission?”
“Disciplinary Commission?” Obi Wan shook his head, attempting to clear his thought. “Right, what exactly has he done?”
“Boba Fett faces three counts of theft and one count of assault with a weapon. As he is under the age of majority for his species, he may be released to a parent or legal guardian with a fine, or serve a Temako rotation in a Disciplinary Center. Do you wish to surrender your son to the custody of the Disciplinary Commission?”
“My son.” Obi Wan blinked again, harder, as though he may awake from this conversation. He did not.
“General Kenobi?” The woman asked impatiently.
“No, I do not wish to… surrender custody.” He replied. What else could he do?
“Very well. Instructions will be forwarded to you as to how to retrieve him and pay the related fines. Thank you for your time.”
The holo flickered out abruptly, leaving Obi Wan alone in the dim light of his office. He sank down in the seat behind his desk and ran a hand over his face.
“Jango, you absolute kriffing bastard.” He whispered.
The silence around him did not reply.