Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

That was the last time Jason was letting Roy anywhere near something that glowed in a transparent stasis chamber.  Sure, Jason thought his best friend would keep his hands, an engineer’s hands, an archer’s hands off an unknown glowing object.  Apparently, it was too much to ask.  Especially when it was Jason standing next to him and not Kori.  Now, had it been Kori, Roy’s hand would never have made it up past his hip.  But it was Jason.  Jason’s luck and Roy’s unrestrained curiosity.  A lethal combination, just ask anyone who has come up against the Outlaws. 

Jason sighed as Roy’s babbled apologies filtered through his helmet followed by a string of curses as the glowing orb dimmed.  Jason looked around.  They definitely weren’t in Kansas anymore, not that they were anywhere close to Kansas to begin with.  Nope, the Outlaws had stopped off on a lightly populated planet to refuel and stretch their legs when some locals had started jabbering on about some mystical cave.  Stunningly beautiful, apparently.  Kori had wanted to take a look, the princess being the only one to understand what was being said.  Roy had hauled Jason along, not that Jason protested much.  Just the amount he was expected to.  And the cave was beautiful, Jason would admit, right up until the glowing orb.  There was never anything beautiful about a glowing orb. 

Roy disagreed.  Kori wasn’t in the vicinity.  Now they’re not standing in a cave. 

“Jay,” Roy called, shifting his bow and quiver. 

“Yeah,” Jason drawled as he tilted his head to look at the archer.  Helmet giving nothing away. 

“Should I touch it again?” Roy looked at the dim orb floating in front of them.

“Can’t hurt,” Jason shrugged.  Roy reached out and poked the orb.  Nothing happened, not that Jason was surprised. 

“We should take it with us,” Jason said.  Roy promptly plucked the orb out of the air and stuck it into a small compartment at the base of his quiver.  Patting it before turning back to Jason. 

With a nod, Jason finally allowed himself to really look around.  The room was lit naturally thanks to the large chunk of roof missing, the stone long since crumbled away.  Sand, rock, and dust as far as Jason could see.  Definitely not any Kansas Jason had ever been to.  Large statues lined the room, some broken, and others depicting warriors.  According to his helmet and the fact that Roy hadn’t dropped dead, the atmosphere was breathable.  With a click and soft hiss, Jason removed his helmet and took a breath of dull, dusty air.  It was peaceful, for all that it was barren.  A look at Roy confirmed the same thing, whatever this place was, they were safe.  Well, alone, and as safe as they could be.  Jason was nothing if not realistic. 

“How far do you want to scout?” Jason asked.

“Sit tight,” Roy said, “I’ll get up high and take a look around, then let you know.”     

“You’re not going anywhere by yourself,” Jason snorted as he started after Roy, long legs catching up quickly.  Roy laughed as he knocked shoulders with Jason.  It wasn’t long until they found a good vantage point and started to climb. 

****

The comm message came through early in the morning cycle.  Early enough that Obi-Wan was still drinking his first tea of the day.  It was a message from the Council requesting a holocall at his earliest convenience, which for Obi-Wan was right then.  There was never any time later in the day.  A quick response and the call went through.  Obi-Wan greeted his fellow council members respectfully as Mace dove into the formalities.  Obi-Wan finally focused when his name was called, multiple times by Mace’s dour expression.

“Apologies Masters,” Obi-Wan murmured with a slight bow.

“A disturbance in the Force, sensed I have,” Master Yoda hummed, “closest you are to the location.”

“Vrogas Vas,” Obi-Wan muttered to himself, it was the only planet the 212^th were close to at the moment. 

“Yes, there are ruins of a Jedi Temple there,” Mace said as Obi-Wan nodded, remembering his lessons as an initiate. 

“Begin there you will, find the disturbance, I hope,” Master Yoda nodded.

“What exactly am I looking for?” Obi-Wan asked, knowing full well he wouldn’t get an answer even as Yoda cackled. 

“Know not I do, only that go we must,” Yoda nodded and Obi-Wan withheld a sigh.

“May the Force be with you,” Mace called an end to the meeting and the Council blinked out. 

Obi-Wan looked down at his tea, thankfully still warm enough to drink.  It would be a quick mission and Obi-Wan planned to meditate on it later.  After all they still had a day’s travel to the planet, plenty of time to consult with his men and the Force. 

An interesting feeling arose in Obi-Wan.  It wasn’t bad, no, he had plenty of experience with bad feelings.  Anticipation.  It almost rang in the still, recirculated air.  He closed his eyes and reached for the Force.  Yes, that was definitely anticipation, giddy anticipation.  Obi-Wan breathed.    

****

The transport ship touched down within view of the temple ruins on Vrogas Vas.  There was no point in attempting to hide their approach, the landscape was too vast and desolate for any type of subtlety.  Unlike Tatooine, Vrogas Vas was not only sand and dull beiges but striking red rock as well.  The Jedi who built the temple used it prolifically.  It made the ruins more ominous, spilling red across the land.  

Obi-Wan led Ghost Company off the transport shuttle and towards the ruins, steps sure in the shifting sands.  Cody and the vode fanned out behind him.  Obi-Wan had argued valiantly for this to be a solo mission, as it was strictly in regards to the Force, but Cody quickly overruled all his well-crafted arguments. 

Obi-Wan stretched his senses as they approached the ruins.  The anticipation had been building since they stepped on the transport.  Now, the Jedi wouldn’t be surprised if the members of Ghost Company could feel it.  The men were certainly acting, spirited, enough.  Obi-Wan already caught Cody shooting the men subtle gestures to restrain themselves.  Not that Obi-Wan could blame them.  This mission was a veritable vacation compared to all the others.  Not that Obi-Wan truly believed it would remain that way.  The Force seemed far too interested in whatever situation they were walking into. 

Obi-Wan halted outside the crumbling doors and listened.  There.  Towards the back of the temple he could sense two distinct lifeforms.  There was nothing hostile about them, at least, not yet.  However, there was a muted energy surrounding them, something Obi-Wan couldn’t quite understand.  Obi-Wan flashed a hand signal to the men and they proceeded to move towards the back of the temple.

Waxer sprung the first trap before Obi-Wan could warn him.  The ground shook and dust flew as a piece of a statue came tumbling down, a thin wire connected to it.  Silence settled as the dust did.  Cody held up a fist, cutting off whatever was about to come out of Waxer’s mouth.  It was then Obi-Wan felt it, the warning in the Force.  Anticipatory and strained.  Obi-Wan reached for his lightsaber but quickly moved his hand back as the feeling in the Force stretched tighter at the action.  He signaled for Cody and Ghost Company to keep their blasters lowered.  Obi-Wan hoped it meant whoever they were coming up upon would be willing to talk.  It certainly would be a nice change of pace.       

Obi-Wan passed through the cracked threshold first, senses locked on to the two beings they were coming up on.  Obi-Wan paused, Ghost Company following suit as he looked down, stepping over another rudimentary trap.  He moved forward more slowly after that.  They reached the end of the hall with no incidents, the stone doorway in front of them was partially collapsed.  Only one man would fit through at a time.  Obi-Wan stroked his beard, calculating the risk he was willing to take crawling through the opening. 

“Sir, we can scout for another way in,” Cody reasoned. 

“A direct approach would be best, I think,” Obi-Wan hummed and then moved forward to shimmy through the opening.

The room Obi-Wan shuffled into was lit by another hole in the crumbling, domed ceiling.  Obi-Wan didn’t get the chance to take a good look at it, but it did provide excellent lighting for the weapon pointed at his head and the red helmeted individual on the other end.     

“Hello there,” Obi-Wan remained still, face placid as he heard the clones scrap through the entry behind him.

Cody was at his shoulder a moment later, blaster raised and aimed at the red helmet.  A second weapon had been drawn just as quick, this time aimed at Cody.  Obi-Wan quickly signaled for the rest of Ghost Company to keep their weapons down.  The men hesitated, but complied, much to their annoyance. 

“I am Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, do you understand what I am saying?” Obi-Wan smiled as the helmet nodded. 

“Excellent,” Obi-Wan smiled, “would you mind lowering your weapons, we mean no harm.”

“Him first,” the sharp scoff crackled out from the helmet.  The red glinting in the light as it nodded towards his commander.

“Would it be too much to ask for you both to lower them at the same time?” Obi-Wan’s mouth curled into a wry smile.

Amusement echoed through the Force and it was certainly not coming from Cody.  Obi-Wan took it as a good sign, truly better than he could hope for. 

“So, what, we gonna lower them on three?” the helmet cocked to the side, an air of challenge aimed at Cody.  Obi-Wan felt his commander bristle, although he showed no outward signs of affront.

“Alright, fine,” an exaggerated sigh left the helmet, “one, two –.”

“Three,” Cody finished and both weapons lowered. 

“Well, would you look at that,” surprise and disbelief weaved through the Force as the weapon formerly pointed at Obi-Wan was holstered. 

Although he couldn’t see Cody’s face due to the helmet, Obi-Wan felt the commander’s matching surprise as well.  They had never come across someone who kept to their word in a standoff.  Not so easily at least.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan smiled and decided to push his luck, “now, would it be even more to ask your friend to come down and join us?”

A gloved hand twitched towards one of the holsters strapped to a leg.  Obi-Wan’s eyes remained fixed on the being in front of him, they didn’t waver for a moment towards the other being perched above in the shadows of the collapsed roof.  Ghost Company shifted behind him, sand crunching under boots.    

“Why are you here?” the gloved hand gestured around them.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’ to your friend coming down,” Obi-Wan smiled at the rather unsubtle change in topic.

“This place is a wasteland, nothing as far as you can see,” arms crossed over a broad chest, “so, why are you here?”

Obi-Wan studied the being in front of him, the Force quietly whispering for truth.  It had been so long since the war started, so long since Obi-Wan heard the Force call for honesty.  Obi-Wan would listen.  Right after he made sure there was no potential for threats.

“If you would put your trust in us one more time and call your friend down, we truly mean no harm,” Obi-Wan placated, “I will tell you and I believe we can help you.”

Obi-Wan stayed open and relaxed as he felt himself being surveyed.  Passing the inspection, the red helmet dipped slightly and Obi-Wan heard the scuffle of limbs descending stone.  More red entered Obi-Wan’s line of sight.  Much more red.  Red armored suit, red accents on weapons, and hair much redder than Obi-Wan’s.  The man’s weapon was slung over his back, but Obi-Wan could make out at least three different knife handles stashed on the man’s body.  The face was young, though.  Framed by that red hair, he couldn’t have been any older than Anakin.    

“Hey man, Roy Harper,” a freckled smile lit up green eyes as Roy held out a hand, Obi-Wan clasping it in his own.

“For fuck’s sake Harper,” the helmet growled.

“Come off it Jay,” Roy chuckled, “when was the last time anyone acted this nice after you held a gun to their head, oh, that’s right, never.”

The helmet, Jay, growled again.  The sound suddenly cut off as Roy rapped his knuckles against the forehead of the helmet. 

“Come on,” Roy cajoled, “take it off.”

“I will if they do,” the helmet nodded towards Ghost Company. 

Cody took the initiative and promptly removed his helmet, his brothers quickly following.  Obi-Wan watched, amused as both Roy and Cody shot the blank helmet of Jay a smug look.  Albeit, his commander's was politely veiled.  Obi-Wan felt confusion ripple through the Force once all the clone’s helmets were off.  But Roy’s face was still smiling and Jay hadn’t so much as twitched.  However, it took another slap to the shoulder and unintelligible grumbling before gloved hands finally removed the red helmet.

“Jason Todd,” the deep, rough voice echoed in the still air. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you both,” Obi-Wan gave a slight bow.

“Yeah,” Jason drawled, “I’m sure it’s a real pleasure.  Now, you wanna explain what you and the quadruplets are doing here?”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan smiled congenially, “would you care to move somewhere a bit more comfortable, I’m afraid it is a lot to explain.”

“No,” Jason’s voice was sharp and even Roy seemed disinclined to move, following his partner’s lead. 

The clones shifted at the harsh tone, tense in a way that just wouldn’t do.  At least, it wouldn’t help the two men in front of him be more reasonable. 

“Very well, as I said, I am Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Obi-Wan said before turning to each of his men, “this is Commander Cody of the 212^th and troopers Waxer, Wooley, and Boil.”

Each man nodded as he introduced them, stepping forward as they came to stand in a semi-circle before Jason and Roy.  A move which had both men stiffen, but no weapons were drawn.  Obi-Wan breathed and focused on Jason again.  The man’s intense teal eyes shifted and analyzed Obi-Wan and his men.  His men held up admirably under the scrutiny, having endured much more intimidating figures.  But, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but feel there was something lurking beneath the surface of Jason Todd.  He would have to meditate on it later.  For now, the Force remained calm and Jason finally nodded in return.

“So, you’re a military outfit,” Roy said with a raised brow.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan acknowledged, puzzled and concerned, a sentiment he could feel shared by the clones.  Where were these two from that they didn’t recognize Obi-Wan or the 212^th?  Anticipation grew in the Force and Obi-Wan was starting to feel this wasn’t going to be a simple mission after all.

“We were the closest to the planet when I received a call from the Jedi Council asking me to investigate a disturbance in the Force,” Obi-Wan watched both men carefully. 

There wasn’t a flicker of recognition on either face, but also no confusion in the Force, just intense focus.  Whoever these two were, they were skilled enough to keep their emotions in check on what should be a relatively high pressure situation.  After all, they were outnumbered and apparently had no knowledge of what was going on or where they were.  Yet, there were very few indicators of true stress.  Obi-Wan’s interest was certainly piqued.

For once, Obi-Wan held his tongue.  He would tell Jason and Roy the truth, expand on what was already said.  But first, it seemed he would need some clarification as well.  However, Obi-Wan didn’t think Jason would react well to being questioned.  But, it was needed.  He could not help them if he didn’t have all the information.  Obi-wan needed to decide quickly the best way to get them to talk.  He apparently wasn’t quick enough.

“Does any of that mean anything to you?” Boil cocked his head towards Roy.

“Nope,” Roy grinned back, voice popping.

“You don’t seem that shocked,” Jason eyed Boil.

“Most know us on sight and if not, they have heard of us,” Boil shrugged, “you two didn’t so much as twitch.”

“That famous are you?” Jason smirked.

“We’re the best,” Boil boasted, “and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, especially the 501^st.” 

Obi-Wan withheld a sigh, Jason did not as Roy held up a fist of solidarity.  The tension broke though and with a few words, Jason was leading Obi-Wan and the clones back to his and Roy’s camp. 

****

Jason knew they weren’t on the same planet they had been on with Kori, but a completely different universe?  That was a different beast all together.  It made them rely on these people’s good will.  Something that could very easily be taken away.  Especially since they were dealing with some sort of military faction.  Jason caught Roy’s eye as everyone situated themselves, they would have to play this smart. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi Master, whatever that was, seemed much more inclined to help them than fight.  Something Jason wasn’t particularly known for, but would use to his advantage.  Anyone who had the strategic advantage and took the path of negotiation was either a moron, a bleeding heart, or powerful enough by themselves to not see much as a threat.  Jason didn’t think Kenobi was a moron.  The man was far too calm and patient to be labeled that. 

Jason had caught shrewd eyes studying him more than once.  It didn’t bother Jason, he’s been under worse scrutiny.  No, it was the fact Kenobi looked at him like he wasn’t a threat.  Jason couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at him like that.  If ever.                 

“This planet got a name?” Jason asked once everyone was seated more or less comfortably.  Jason and Roy with their backs against a fallen pillar.

“Vrogas Vas,” Kenobi said, “we are in what was once a Jedi temple.”

“Right and you’re a Jedi Master?” Jason couldn’t keep the suspicion out of his voice.

“I am, as well as a member of the Jedi High Council,” Kenobi said.

“The same Council who requested you come here,” Jason’s voice was flat.  He glanced over at Roy, the archer meeting his eye, on the same page. 

“Yes,” Kenobi acknowledged, at least aware enough to understand it looked suspicious to Jason and Roy. 

“We were not waiting for you,” Kenobi stated, “in fact we were a full day away from the planet.  A Council member felt a disturbance in the Force, the 212^th were the closest.”

“What’s the Force?” Roy’s question caused Kenobi to smile and the troopers to stifle groans.  All except the commander, whose face never changed even as he unsubtly chastised the others. 

“The Jedi believe the Force is what binds us all together, every living thing throughout the galaxy,” Kenobi intoned, a glint in his eye Jason recognized from Alfred.  This man thoroughly enjoyed giving educational lectures, wanted or not.   

“The Jedi are Force sensitive beings who are raised and trained to use the Force under the Jedi Code,” Kenobi paused, blue-green eyes shifting between Jason and Roy.

“Sounds like a religion,” Roy said, shifting where he sat next to Jason.

“A philosophy,” Jason mused, cutting Kenobi off, “religions have deities that are worshiped, philosophies are states of being, a way of life.”

“Most see it as interchangeable,” Kenobi stated, voice appreciative.  Jason shrugged, eyes skirting away from Kenobi’s gaze.

“So, being force sensitive allows Jedi to feel when something is wrong?” Roy sounded impressed, “I can imagine a few times that would’ve been helpful.”  The archer snickered, knocking shoulders with Jason.

“Jedi can do a whole lot more than that,” Waxer snorted, head shaking in amusement.

“The ability to sense the Force does provide beings with certain,” Kenobi paused thoughtfully, “abilities.”

“They can move stuff with their minds,” Waxer’s eyebrows waggled and Jason’s raised in response.     

“Read thoughts, feel what others are feeling,” Boil tacked on, eyes alight.

“And pretty much do the impossible,” Wooley finally spoke up. 

The commander, Cody, huffed in resignation at his men’s gleeful looks.  Jason and Roy shared a look, faces seemingly disbelieving.  Two could play at this game.  Or, well, five in this case.  Jason doubted Kenobi and Cody would play along.  Then again, Kenobi seemed to have a mischievous side.  At least, he definitely liked having the upper hand.  Sucks for him that Jason has always been underhanded.    

“So, what you’re saying is Jedi are empaths, telepathic, telekinetic, and have some pre-cognition?” Jason drawled, eyeing the identical faces.

Blank eyes and furrowed brows met his statement.  Kenobi’s eyes were shrewd once more as they studied Jason.  He didn’t fidget, projecting calm into the so called Force.  Roy was similarly nonchalant beside him. 

“You are taking this surprisingly well for one who does not know where he is,” Kenobi commented, hands tucked into his sleeves.

“Well,” Jason gave him a sharp smile, “you’re not the first person we’ve met with abilities like that.”

Kenobi nodded as if he had come to that conclusion beforehand.  Or maybe the Force told him.  Either way, Jason’s skin itched. 

“Yeah, we know a gorilla that can read minds,” Roy commented, breaking the stare between Jason and Kenobi.

“What’s a gorilla?” Wooley asked, intrigued. 

“It’s an animal,” Jason interrupted Roy before they completely lost any control over the conversation.  Kenobi shot the troopers a stern look, pulling the men back into line.  Wooley straightened and apologized. 

“The Force guided us to you, to help, in any way we can,” Kenobi’s face was serene, kind in his certainty.

“Alright,” Jason’s smile grew as Roy chuckled beside him, “what do you know about interdimensional travel?”

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan stood on the bridge of the Negotiator, stars flashing by as they traveled at hyper speed.  He had sent off a message to the Council a few hours before they jumped to hyperspace, alerting his fellow Jedi of the 212^th’s impending return to Coruscant.  Obi-Wan breathed and calmed his mind.  It always seemed more difficult to reach the Force when traveling through hyperspace.  The life forces of his men helped.  Their steady presences a balm for Obi-Wan. 

He needed calm with the two additional force presences on board. 

Obi-Wan was pragmatic.  He had lived and fought through too much not to be.  The Jedi Code taught all things were possible through the Force, Master Yoda certainly believed so.  Obi-Wan smirked, he couldn’t help but wonder if interdimensional travel was a part of the Grandmaster’s beliefs.  There was no doubt the Force moved differently around their two guests.  Even between the two men, it felt different.  Of course, like any other sentient being, Jason and Roy had their own Force presence.  But, it was different than that.  Other than the clear displacement around him, Roy’s presence was akin to a foundry, overly warm and bursting with heated energy.  The man had already asked countless questions about their technology.  He could feel a headache coming on at the thought of Anakin and Roy meeting as they most certainly would.  Obi-Wan did not even want to imagine the things Anakin and Roy could create out of duresteel and circuitry.  No, for all that Roy claimed to be from another universe, he still felt grounded.

Jason was the unknown.  He was the smooth, coolness of a placid frozen lake, never knowing how thick the ice truly was.  But there was a slickness to his presence.  Something weaved just beneath the surface, constantly out of reach, always lurking.  Obi-Wan didn’t want to know what would happen when the surface cracked. 

For all that Jason was expressive, almost overly so once the helmet was removed, it was difficult to read the depth of him.  Depths most would not see at first glance, not past the bravado, or the flaring emotions.  Obi-Wan wondered how often Jason was categorized as a temperamental brute.  How often those depths were overlooked, ignored.  They were certainly hidden well in the Force. 

Obi-Wan liked to think he would have noticed, eventually.  Instead he was fortunate enough to catch a hint of the true scope of Jason in an unguarded moment between the man and Roy on Vrogas Vas.  What leaked out into the Force was vast and breathtakingly fierce. The surging storm almost immediately pulled back in, wrapped up neatly as if not wholly uncontainable.  Still, Obi-Wan knew, and the Force whispered, it was but a fraction of what lurked inside Jason. 

****

“You’re contemplating murder,” Roy’s green eyes were focused on the console in front of him, back to Jason.

“Yeah, yours,” Jason glared at the red-head’s back as Roy chuckled, not the least bit fazed. 

“Don’t be mean, Jay,” Roy glanced back over his shoulder with a grin, “you know I’m going to be the one to get us out of this.”              

“Only because you’re the one who got us into this,” Jason snapped, eyes narrowed.

“Right, and you don’t do leg work when it’s not your fault,” Roy teased, fingers moving deftly over the door’s control panel.

“Exactly,” Jason huffed, arms crossed.

There were wires sticking out every which way.  Jason didn’t know what Roy hoped to accomplish, other than possibly getting them stuck inside permanently.  They hadn’t been in the bare grey glorified holding cell long.  Just long enough for Roy to start to fidget and feel the need to tinker and take something apart.  They had been disarmed once Jason and Roy stepped off the transport ship and into a massive hanger.  Jason was loathed to see his weapons and helmet go, but Kenobi allowed him to keep his utility belt.  Something much more valuable than his guns and for that Jason was grateful.  A series of piercing beeps and clicks sounded from the console, Roy cursed and Jason did something very reminiscent of Bruce, he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“You wanna put everything back the way you found it?” Jason sighed. 

Roy grumbled but complied, fingers working quickly.  Not a moment too soon either.  The panel chirped and their door opened revealing two soldiers, clones, Kenobi and his commander had informed them, a clone army.  Jason’s lips curled at the thought.  Roy had gone stock still at the information and Jason knew the archer was thinking of Cadmus.  Hell, it was where Jason’s mind went and he wasn’t the one created there, being experimented on.  It didn’t matter to either of them how well treated these clones seemed to be, as far as Jason was concerned, they were enslaved. 

Jason and Roy followed the two men out of the room and down various brightly lit metal corridors.  Their escorts stopped outside a door, only taking a moment to open it before Jason and Roy were ushered inside.  The abrupt halt of all noise was jarring as Jason took in the large mess hall.  It wasn’t exactly like any cafeteria he’d ever been in, too much technology, too many identical faces staring at them.  Conversation resumed as Jason and Roy were led to a partially empty table, their escorts leaving them after they sat.  A robot rolled in front of their table, beeping as it passed.  Jason’s eyes flickered to Roy and smirked at the longing in the archer’s gaze as green eyes followed the robot.

Jason could feel the various sets of identical eyes on them as they waited.  The clones sitting at the far end of the table, gesturing towards them every so often.  Roy slouched next to him, practiced in appearing relaxed as sharp eyes scanned the room.  Two clones returned, but they weren’t the ones who escorted Jason and Roy to the hall, the paint designs on their armor were different.  Jason recognized the designs.  These two were part of the team who found them on Vrogas Vas. 

“Waxer, Wooley, or Boil right?” Jason nodded to the two clones as they sat, placing two trays of what looked like rations in front of him and Roy.

“Waxer,” the clone said as he removed his helmet, a dark patch of hair under his bottom lip the only distinguishing feature.

“Boil,” the second clone smiled as he removed his helmet, mustache twitching, “most nat-borns can’t tell we’re different.”

“Or don’t think of us as different,” Waxer shrugged as he picked through his meal.

“Who cares what your genetics say,” Roy abruptly spat, “you all have your own thoughts, feelings, that’s what makes you individuals.”

Their table and the few surrounding ones fell silent at Roy’s outburst.  The archer flushed as he met the clone’s eyes.  Jason watched the bewildered confusion cross the other men’s faces, Roy’s becoming more mulish with determination as he saw the same thing.  Jason wanted to bash his head against the table, why did this person have to be his best friend.  Roy’s body fully turned to face Jason, the anti-hero decided to dig in to the meal in front of him, valiantly ignoring the growing indignation beside him.    

“Jay,” Roy’s voice was strained, “you’re not going to fucking stand for this.”

“You know I’m not,” Jason rolled his eyes as he continued to methodically eat and ignore the growing confusion around them. 

“Right,” Roy nodded, “good.”

Jason caught the manic smile Roy shot the clones and knew they wouldn’t be heading back to their universe anytime soon.  No, Roy found a cause and really Jason couldn’t help but agree with him on it.  Jason’s lips twitched at the wide eyed look the clones were giving Roy.  Boil’s mouth opened for a brief moment before snapping shut, brow furrowed as he stared at Roy.  Jason almost felt bad for the upheaval they were going to cause.  After all, it wasn’t like they were going to stick around to experience the after effects.

 “You’re surprisingly opinionated about clones, especially for someone who isn’t from here,” Waxer’s face was drawn, eyes intent as they skimmed Roy. 

“We’ve met clones before,” Jason drew the clone’s attention away from Roy, fork scooping up the last of his meal. 

“Not to this scale,” Jason acknowledged, “but, we know a few.”

Waxer and Boil looked intrigued, Jason could see the questions coming.  Thankfully, the door to the mess opened once more as Kenobi and Commander Cody strode through.  Jason watched as the commander branched off, heading towards the line for food while Kenobi’s eyes scanned the hall, quickly landing on Jason.  Hands tucked into his robes, Kenobi made his way over to the table with a serene look on his face, eyes light as he acknowledged Waxer and Boil.

“We are being rerouted,” Kenobi announced, “the Council has a time sensitive mission for us, Master Windu and Master Koon require additional forces for their campaign.  We are five hours out from their location.”

“Yes, General,” the clones echoed.

“We will report to our stations immediately,” Waxer nodded as he and Boil made to rise, Kenobi’s hand halting them.

“You two will be staying with our guests,” Kenobi nodded towards Jason and Roy. 

“Yes, General,” the confusion was evident in both clones voices as their gazes slid to Jason and Roy.

“Excellent, drop them back off in their room then report to the bridge for briefing,” Kenobi dismissed them as he turned to meet with Commander Cody, both men leaving the hall quickly.

“Right, well, you heard the General, let’s get you both back to your room,” Boil picked up their trays, depositing them on a passing robot. 

“Robots for just about everything, isn’t there,” Roy commented in Jason’s ear. 

“Robot?” Waxer looked at Roy, head tilted as Roy gestured to the little red and yellow hunk of metal rolling around.

“Huh, robots,” Waxer smiled, “we call them droids.”

The droid beeped as it rolled away, food trays magnetized to its head, or what Jason assumed was the head.  He and Roy stood and followed Waxer and Boil out of the hall, past groups of clones quickly moving through the corridors.  They reached the door to their cell and were steered inside.  Brief instructions to stay put were given before Waxer and Boil left, the door sealing shut behind them.

“I’m going to work on that panel again,” Roy stated after a beat. 

“You do that,” Jason grunted as he collapsed back onto the bunk tucked against the wall.

****

Obi-Wan checked his comm link one last time as the transport shuttle made its way down to the planet’s surface.  Mace had sent him coordinates for the drop zone, Obi-Wan leading a small team of men to rout the Separatists from behind while the main contingent joined up with Mace.  Plo and his Wolfpack were already on the opposite side of Obi-Wan’s drop point, holding steady.  Obi-Wan reached for the Force, a sense of urgency and warning thrummed around him. 

The shuttle touched down, Obi-Wan with Cody by his side leapt off the ramp, the clones following in short order.  The jungle around them was silent except for the departing spacecraft’s thrusters.  A steady orange glow filled the distance, though no sound of blaster or cannon fire reached Obi-Wan’s ears.  Cody gave the signal to move out.  Quickly and quietly, Obi-Wan led the clones towards their goal. 

Obi-Wan’s comm chirped as they approached their position.  It was Mace alerting him of the 212^th reinforcements arriving to the front.  Obi-Wan let the other Jedi know he and his men were in position, before he settled in to wait.  It would not take long, but the Force was still blaring in warning.  Something else was going on, Obi-Wan knew and both Mace and Plo did as well.  There were too many droid battalions on this planet, too many missteps by the Jedi for this not to be a trap. 

The Force shuddered around Obi-Wan.  Darkness curled through the jungle and Obi-Wan activated his lightsaber, bringing it up in a sweeping arc without a moment’s hesitation.  Blue clashed against violent red as blaster fire echoed around him.  Half of Maul’s face was shrouded in the shadows of the jungle, the other half, manic in the light of their crossed blades. 

“Kenobi,” the Sith snarled as Obi-Wan shoved him back, lightsabers clashing again and again. 

“Well, hello there Maul,” Obi-Wan smirked, “what a lovely night for a stroll through the jungle.” 

“Surrender Kenobi, or your men die,” Maul leveled his saber at Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan looked over at Cody, his commander held at blaster point.  Maul had certainly come prepared, too prepared.  Obi-Wan scrutinized his adversary, satisfaction leaking out of Maul and into the Force.  Obi-Wan deactivated his saber, Maul ripping it out of his hands as Force dampening cuffs were slapped on his wrists.  Obi-Wan made eye contact with Cody, ensuring the commander knew to behave accordingly.  With a begrudging nod, Cody and the other clones were disarmed and restrained.  The trap had been sprung.

****

Even though Obi-Wan couldn’t feel it, he knew Maul took great pleasure in the resounding crack that echoed in the cell Obi-Wan was thrown in to.  Obi-Wan masked the sharp pain as he eased into a meditative position on the cool metal floor. 

“How long shall I be here for?” Obi-Wan smiled at the snarl on Maul’s face.

“Until I kill you,” Maul growled before he stalked away, Obi-Wan’s lightsaber hanging from his belt. 

An interesting notion, Obi-Wan mused truly a bit surprised Maul hadn’t killed him already.  Obi-Wan was getting a bit tired of being bait.  Unfortunately, the Separatists didn’t seem to understand it never worked out in their favor. 

“Cody?” Obi-Wan called out into the dark.

“Across from you General,” his commander answered.

“Ah, excellent,” Obi-Wan smiled, “report.”

“No casualties, sir, they were waiting for us with a large enough force to make surrender the only option,” Cody’s voice was gruff, unhappy with the outcome. 

“Nothing to be done about it Cody,” Obi-Wan placated, “we just have to wait for an opportune moment.”

“Of course, sir,” Cody responded.

Obi-Wan could hear the clone commander shift in his cell.  There were no other voices popping up, offering input, Obi-Wan assumed the other clones had been taken to a different holding location.  Hopefully they would be easy to find once Obi-Wan and Cody were able to escape or a rescue team arrived.  For now, all Obi-Wan could do was settle in, think, and wait. 

Chapter Text

“Something went wrong,” Roy said, hands hanging between his knees where he sat next to the door’s control panel. 

“You figure that thing out?” Jason nodded towards the panel.

“Yeah,” Roy smirked, “ready when you are.”

Jason rolled his shoulders, stretching his neck as he stood.  They would need to find weapons, preferably their own, but Jason wasn’t picky.  Jason held out a hand and hauled Roy up.  The archer pinched a few wires together and the door slid open, an empty hallway on the other side. 

“Left or right?” Jason cocked his head.

“Left,” Roy chirped and quickly moved into the corridor, Jason followed after a glance towards the right.

They moved swiftly and didn’t come across any clones as they passed uniform corridors and closed doors.  Whatever crew was left, they all had a place to be and job to do.  It made Jason’s life easier, at least.  It seemed luck, or Kenobi’s Force, was on their side as Jason came to a stop beside Roy.  The archer was crouched down beneath a large window, the hanger they had first entered on the other side.  Jason’s eyes scanned the walls around them, there had to be a way down.  Roy tapped his shoulder and Jason followed the finger pointed towards the far end of the window, a panel.  One that looked much like something one would use to call an elevator.  They moved forward, staying low.  Roy hit the button and the door slid open, Jason was right it was an elevator.

A moment later the doors opened again into the hanger, Jason and Roy ducking out and behind stacked shipment crates.  Jason craned his head around the crates, eyes scanning the hanger.  There were a lot more clones here, all ready to leap into action.  He couldn’t see any weapons though, other than the ones being carried by the clones.  He really didn’t want to have to take any of the clones out for their weapons.  Not here at least.  There wasn’t a subtle way he and Roy could do that.  Jason’s attention turned to the ships.  Roy’s eye were already clocked in on the one closest to them.  Jason stifled a groan at the light in those green eyes.      

“No, do you even know how to fly a spaceship?” Jason whispered as he glared at the red-head.

“I can fly Kori’s,” Roy’s voice was smug.

“She keeps it on auto-pilot,” Jason smirked.

“She does not,” Roy sputtered, indignant. 

“Either way,” Jason shrugged with a small smile, “I’m not getting on any ship you’re thinking about flying.”

“Then how do you plan on getting off this ship?” Roy’s head whipped around to glare at Jason.

“You could ask to be taken off,” a voice stated from behind.

Jason swung around, leg coming out to sweep the voice and its body off its feet.  Jason was on the body the moment it hit the ground, arms and legs pinning it to the floor, blaster tucked under the helmeted chin.  Jason felt cold metal touch the side of his head. 

“Boil?” Jason stared down at the covered face he was sitting on. 

The helmet gave a small affirmative shake.  Jason lowered the weapon and eased off the clone, eyes flickering to the one standing above him, blaster barely lowered from Jason’s head. 

“Waxer,” Jason said, fingers tightening on the stolen blaster.

“Boil will take his blaster back,” Waxer’s voice was flat, steady as he kept his attention on Jason.

“Of course,” Jason smiled as he flipped the blaster around, handing it back to Boil with the muzzle facing Jason’s gut. 

Waxer holstered his blaster and pulled Boil to his feet; Jason and Roy, still partially blocked by the crates, stood a moment later. 

“Remind me not to startle him again,” Boil knocked shoulders with Waxer, trying to break the tension. 

“Will you take us off?” Roy stepped up beside Jason. 

“No,” Waxer said as Boil shifted next to him.

“What happened?” Jason’s eyes narrowed.  Roy was right, something definitely went wrong.

“The General, Commander Cody, and their contingent were captured,” Waxer removed his helmet, eyes burning with helpless determination.

Jason knew the feeling.  Knew what it was to be forced to sit back and watch your family disappear before your eyes, helpless to do anything against it.  Jason knew this was something the clones experienced every day.  His gut churned, green flaring to life and flickering across his vision.

“You know what would really suck for you guys,” Roy began, a grin tugging his lips, “if you had to follow your two guests’ planet side because they escaped with a stolen ship and weapons.”

Golden brown eyes widened, Waxer’s face going slack for a moment.  It was the blaster being tossed to Roy and Boil’s chuckle sounding over the voice modulator that confirmed the plan.  The two turning to stare at Jason and Waxer, giddy and expectant.

“It’d be better if we had our own equipment and weapons,” Jason was honest as he kept eye contact with Waxer.

“Take Roy and find a ship,” Waxer sent Boil and Roy off before motioning Jason to follow.

Jason followed Waxer along the back of the hanger to a lone door.  Inside was a small storage area, shelves lined to military precision.  Jason and Roy’s gear was piled neatly on the metal table in the middle, Jason’s helmet front and center, reflecting the overhead light.  Efficiently, Jason strapped his holsters and various weapons on before he slung Roy’s bow and quiver over his shoulder.  Helmet clutched under an arm, Jason nodded to Waxer, and the clone hesitated, eyes lifting to meet Jason’s.

“You will do nothing to jeopardize the safety of my brothers and General,” Waxer’s voice was quiet, sharp in the close quarters of the storage room. 

Jason knew this man would do everything he could, rip apart a planet if he could to protect his brothers.  For a moment, Jason felt brittle envy rise up, a long snuffed out wish that never came to be.

“If it comes up, and is the best or only option,” Jason raised his chin, eyes level, “leave us.  We’re not the priority we’re just…guests.”

Surprise flickered in Waxer’s eyes as he looked at Jason and gave a hesitant nod.  Jason pushed past the clone lieutenant and waited for the man to lead him to whatever ship Boil and Roy were on. 

****

The ship landed at Kenobi’s last known drop off point an hour later.  The lush jungle was a welcomed difference to the barren desert and monochrome ship.  Though, Jason eyed their surroundings, most likely much more deadly.  Jason could still make out the imprints of the clone troopers boots in the soft soil, a good an indication as any that they were in the right place.  Waxer armed the ship’s security protocols as Jason, Roy, and Boil scouted the area, quickly finding the direction Kenobi and company headed.  Waxer joined them at the edge of the clearing, the sunset coloring both clone’s armor red where it wasn’t painted orange.  Jason slipped his helmet on.

It was a short trek to the site where Kenobi and the clones were ambushed.  There was no evidence of battle, a short skirmish maybe, but no lives lost.  The good thing was, the large group made quite the trail to follow.  Whoever was leading the attackers certainly didn’t care about stealth or the possibility of being followed. 

“A trap,” Boil said, hefting his blaster.

“Definitely,” Roy’s eyes scanned the jungle.

“What do you know about this campaign?” Jason looked at Waxer, the clone’s body tense, held straight and unwavering.

“It’s bigger than it should be, has taken up more time and resources,” Waxer hedged, clearly not willing to just spill military secrets.  Not that Jason could blame him.

“Someone knew more of you would come,” Roy said, “which would be counterproductive unless someone was planning for it, wanted it to happen that way.”

“Could the trap have been just for Kenobi?” Jason could feel sweat slip down his neck.

“The General does have a certain gift for getting into these situations,” Boil admitted.  Roy gave the clone a commiserating smile. 

“I’m gonna assume Kenobi’s fellow Jedi wouldn’t just leave him,” Jason mused, “so, realistically, he and the clones are bait.”

“Why take out one Jedi general when you can take out three,” Roy nodded as Waxer and Boil tensed in understanding. 

“Only a Sith could pull that off,” Waxer growled, fists clenched.

“It’s going to end up being four,” Boil’s helmet tilted towards his brother.

“Four?” Jason asked.

“Four Jedi generals,” Boil clarified, “with General Kenobi kidnapped, General Skywalker will be here in no time for a rescue attempt.”

“Bit of a wild card is he?” Jason inferred, the clone’s tone doing nothing to hide the fact that he clearly thought this Skywalker played fast and loose with orders.

“General Kenobi raised and trained General Skywalker,” Waxer explained, “our battalions work together often.”

“That the 501^st you mentioned we shouldn’t listen too,” Roy raised an eyebrow as Boil nodded empathetically. 

“Right, then,” Jason moved to follow the tracks left behind, “let’s go get Kenobi and your brothers before we have to take into account any idiotic plans made by manic Jedi.”

“We can’t take on a Sith,” Waxer pulled Jason back by his shoulder, “they use the Force like Jedi, but the Dark Side, the evil side.”

“If we get the General out,” Boil hesitated, “he can deal with the Sith.”

“There you go,” Jason smiled and shrugged, “and if not, I’ve dealt with evil before, I can do it again.”

Jason didn’t acknowledge the incredulous tilts of the clone’s helmets.  He definitely flat out ignored the hard look in Roy’s eyes.   

The trampled underbrush led to a cave system, the entrance seemingly unguarded.  Nothing was picked up on Waxer and Boil’s scans, but they didn’t know how deep the cave system went or where it led to.  They moved in.  The clone’s helmets were able to project a beam of light, Jason and Roy ended up sandwiched between the two, Waxer taking the lead.  The cave was damp, rivulets of water dripped down the sides and Jason could hear the dull roar of rushing water further ahead.  The tracks were still easily distinguishable even on the rock bed.  Scuff marks from metal droids and dirt tread along, leading them deeper and deeper, the air becoming cooler. 

“I’ve got something,” Waxer called a halt as he pulled up the scanner, the soft blue holo-projector lit up the tunnel around them.

The projection showed multiple droids ahead of them, milling about in no discernable pattern.  They were guarding an entrance and Jason assumed there wouldn’t be a simple key to just let them in. 

“We’ll have to draw them away and take them out quietly,” Roy pointed to a small alcove that would conceal the four of them.

“How smart are these droids?” Jason’s eyes shifted between Waxer and Boil.

“Not very,” Boil snorted, “we could throw a rock and they’d go investigating.”

That’s what they did.  Jason didn’t suppress his grin under the helmet as they made their way to the entrance, their path now clear of droids.  The door was solid metal, the control panel next to it embedded in the rock of the cave wall.  Jason glanced at Roy, the archer’s fingers already nimbly removing the panel cover, circuitry coming loose. 

“More droids on the other side?” Jason eyed the door.

“If they’re smart,” Waxer said, head facing out towards the tunnel.

They weren’t smart. 

“Really,” Jason scoffed at the empty metal and stone corridor. 

“This has been suspiciously easy,” Boil commented, as they stood in the entrance.

“A trap for whoever comes after Kenobi,” Jason cautiously moved forward, “wonder who they’re expecting, cause it certainly isn’t us.”

“General Skywalker,” Waxer’s voice was certain.

“Falls for lures and the false promises of safety often, does he?” Jason mocked, he couldn’t believe how this Skywalker became a General. 

“He’s not known for his strategy and planning,” Boil admitted as they continued down the hall. 

“What is he known for?” Roy asked, eyes constantly shifting.

“He’s the Hero with No Fear,” Boil quietly boasted, “fierce in combat and the best pilot in the galaxy.”

Jason and Roy traded a look, one he knew Roy understood even through the helmet.  General Skywalker sounded like Hal fucking Jordan.  Jason refrained from laughing, but just barely.  He supposed every universe had to have one.  Lunatic flyboys with more heart than sense.  Bruce would lose his mind.  Jason could not wait to meet the man.  Granted, he also had a low tolerance for blatant stupidity.  Still, it would be interesting. 

****

Maul hadn’t returned and there was nothing to mark the passage of time in the dark cell.  He and Cody had tossed ideas back and forth, discussed battle tactics, senate gossip, culture, and everything in between until their voices started to crack and still no one came.  It was highly unusual, completely out of character for Maul.  The Sith should have been here in the cell with Obi-wan by now, torturing him and crowing his defeat.  Instead Maul was clearly waiting.  For what or who Obi-Wan could make a few assumptions, none of which bode well for himself or his men. 

Obi-Wan leaned back against the bed rock of his cell, the stone leeching the warmth from his body.  He heard it then, the near silent rhythmic shuffle of boots down the tunnel.  Multiple boots it sounded like as they drew closer.  Obi-Wan called for Cody softly, the commander shifting in the cell across from the jedi, alert.  Obi-Wan peered through the bars of his cell as a soft glow came into focus, becoming brighter as it moved closer.  It stopped a moment and swept side to side, illuminating more cell bars embedded into the rock. 

“There’s cells down this way,” a familiar voice sounded through the corridor.

“A Jedi general and clone commander too,” Obi-Wan called out softly, a smile slipping over his face.

“General,” twin voices echoed and soon the boots were rapidly approaching Obi-Wan, the light harsh in the darkness.

Waxer was in front of Obi-Wan’s cell a moment later, Boil across the way clasping Cody’s shoulder through the bars.  Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow at the two additional figures standing behind Waxer.  Guilt leaked into the Force, followed swiftly by firm resolve and Obi-Wan knew the lieutenant did not regret the decisions he made. 

“Let’s get you out of here General,” Waxer moved his head, light shining on the lock as he set to work.  Boil following along on Cody’s cell. 

Obi-Wan raised his gaze to the two other men, the glowing eyes of Jason’s helmet already looking back. 

“I suppose I will have to look the other way at this blatant disregard of orders,” Obi-Wan sighed, a smile pulled at his lips. 

“We’re following orders sir,” Boil piped up, “we’re watching our guests just like you commanded.  It’s not our fault they stole back their gear and hijacked a ship.”

“Did they now,” Obi-Wan chuckled as his cell door creaked open, Waxer saluting him as Obi-Wan walked out.  Obi-Wan stopped next to the clone, holding up his wrists as Waxer began to work on the Force dampening cuffs.

“If you were doing your job vod, that wouldn’t have happened in the first place,” Cody glared at Boil as he exited the cell.

“They’re crafty,” Boil squeaked, helmet tilted away from Cody. 

“What’s it matter?” Jason cocked his head, “we hear you’re used to hair-brained stunts and rescues.”

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose as the cuffs came free, clanking to the ground.  He most certainly was.  This rescue was at least going much more smoothly than the usual ones.  But that certainly wasn’t attributed to the men doing the rescuing. 

“Darth Maul has planned something extensive,” Obi-Wan said, “it was not skill that allowed you to come this far this easily.”

“We know,” Jason’s voice was flat through the helmet.

“We don’t think it was us he was expecting though, sir,” Waxer said.

“Of course not,” Obi-Wan drawled, “who would be expecting two clones and two inter-dimensional travelers to stage a rescue.”

The tunnel rumbled at that moment, a low series of clangs could be heard above them.  Obi-Wan searched the Force and felt it, the encompassing presence of his former padawan.  Choked panic suddenly reached his senses and Obi-Wan followed the feeling as it was expertly reined in, pulled back to Jason.  Obi-Wan didn’t acknowledge the man or his fear.  It was understandable and Jason seemed to have gained control over it. 

“I believe that is our normally scheduled rescue, sir,” Cody exuded professionalism as wry amusement rippled through the Force. 

“So it would seem,” Obi-Wan sighed.

Chapter Text

Jason did not want to be underground with a bunch of explosions going off above him.  It was quite possibly one of the lasts places he wanted to be.  He focused on the feel of Roy’s shoulder against his own, the archer had come up next to him, his body a solid, grounding presence the second the tunnel reverberated.  Jason worked through his body, relaxing his muscles one by one until he was battle tense, prepared tense, not tense with panic.  Other than Roy, no one seemed to notice, too preoccupied with what could be happening above.     

They started moving a moment later, Kenobi leading them down the tunnel, away from the way Jason and the others had originally come.  Kenobi and Cody leading, Jason and Roy in the middle, with Waxer and Boil bringing up the rear.  It had been a long time since Jason had been put in a position of safety.  Protected on all sides as if he were an untrained civilian or valuable.  Ridiculous.  Especially when Kenobi didn’t even have a weapon or armor.  Commander Cody at least got one of the extra blasters Waxer and Boil brought. 

The ground started sloping up as the sound of fighting grew louder, their surroundings becoming clear as light filtered in.  Finally, they hit a door.  The sounds on the other side pierced through the thick metal.  Shouts, blaster fire, and rocking explosions, the battle was right there and Jason sunk into it, breathed.  He un-holstered a gun, kept it low and aimed away.  Out of the corner of his eye he could see Roy knock an arrow, one that would explode on impact. 

“You two will stay here,” Jason blinked at the sound of Kenobi’s voice.  The Jedi wasn’t even looking at Jason and Roy.

“What,” Roy’s tone caused the clones to stiffen.  Kenobi turned his head, eyes steady in the dim light as he observed Roy. 

“I’ll watch out for them, sir,” Boil offered, Kenobi’s attention shifting to the clone for a moment before he nodded. 

Those blue-green eyes cut back to Jason and Roy for a moment, a warning in them, one Roy acknowledged with a tip of his head.  Kenobi stepped back then, raised a hand, and blew the metal door out of its frame.  Right, telekinesis.  Light and the cacophony of battle spilled in.  Kenobi and the clones lunged out into the fray, Boil keeping Jason and Roy behind him. 

Jason took in the battle quickly as he dodged fire and collapsing metal.  Jason recognized the clones from the 212^th, their orange and white armor distinct next to the clones with grey and white or blue and white armor.  Jason, Roy, and Boil were a bit behind the line of droids, a good place for a surprise attack, a bad place for catching friendly fire.  Kenobi, Cody, and Waxer had since crept around the backs of the droids and were approaching the far side of the converted cavern.  The trio was stealthily taking out droids as they went.         

Boil motioned for Jason and Roy to follow and they headed in the opposite direction, the two teams coming up along the sides of the droids.  Jason holstered his gun and slipped out a high voltage Taser, usually non-lethal to people, very lethal to robots, or droids in this case.  Jason methodically took down the droids they came across as they made their way forward to the line of clones. 

Jason, Roy, and Boil were crouched down behind some collapsed metal beams when the noise of the droids grew to a frenzied level, their shrill voices screaming about Jedi arriving.  Jason looked out, head popping over the beams and sure enough there were two new players on the field, both dressed in similar fashion to Kenobi.  They weren’t shooting blasters though.  Jason’s mouth dropped at the sight of what seemed to be laser swords twirling through the air, deflecting blaster bolts with ease.  Both swords were electric blue although the two beings wielding them were completely different. 

“Generals Skywalker and Koon,” Boil shouted over the battle, “Skywalker leads the 501^st, they’re the vode in blue and Koon leads the 104^th in grey.”

“Where’s the rest of the 212^th?” Jason called back, “your brothers who were captured with Kenobi.”

Boil’s helmet turned back to Jason, they had a new mission. 

****

Obi-Wan sighed when Anakin came bursting in, Force presence looming and determined.  Subtlety was never his padawan’s strong suit, nor patience, or well anything that could be associated with calm.  Obi-Wan was rather grateful for that fact at the moment.  The chaos Anakin excelled at creating worked in their favor this time, the droid army panicked at the sight of Anakin and Plo. 

“General Windu must be leading a counter assault outside,” Cody shouted and Obi-Wan agreed. 

Ahsoka and the rest of the 501^st were most likely with the other Master.  Obi-Wan caught Anakin’s attention, his former padawan cutting a swathe through the droids as he made his way over.  Plo directing the clones as the droids made to retreat. 

“Master,” Anakin called out as he reached Obi-Wan, nodding to Cody and Waxer.

“Lost your saber again, I see,” a smirk curled Anakin’s lips as he surveyed Obi-Wan for any injuries.

“Maul has it,” Obi-Wan stated as Anakin reeled back.       

“Maul’s here?” Anakin exclaimed and Obi-Wan frowned as Plo made his way over to the group.  The battle wrapped up, the last of the droids destroyed.

“Maul was the one who ambushed us, sir,” Cody stated.

Nothing about this made sense.  It was a trap to be sure, but one which apparently hadn’t been truly sprung yet.  Just what was the Sith waiting for?  Obi-Wan studied the cavern and reached for the Force.  It felt heavy with warning, but the ripple of anticipation was almost just as strong.  Obi-Wan stroked his beard.       

“He hasn’t been on the battlefield,” Plo’s calm voice brought Obi-Wan back to the conversation.

“You did not find the rest of my men,” Obi-Wan knew the answer even as Plo shook his head, just as he knew Maul would be wherever the rest of the 212^th were.

Obi-Wan scanned the cavern again, looking for any sort of hidden exit or viewing area.  It wasn’t until his third scan that Obi-Wan realized something was missing.  The anticipation rang loud in the Force.

“Where are Boil and our guests?” Obi-Wan tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe, eyebrow raised as he looked at Waxer.

The clone lieutenant’s head snapped up and around from where he was discussing with Cody.  A muted swear crackled out of Waxer’s helmet as he tapped his comm link, calling for his vod. 

“Guests?” Anakin cocked his head and eyed Obi-Wan, “were these guests the reason you were returning to Coruscant?”

“So, you did find something on Vrogas Vas,” Plo hummed, delighted interest brightening the Force.  Obi-Wan didn’t deign to answer either of them, attention focused on Waxer.

“I can’t get through to him, sir,” Waxer’s voice was strained, “but I did get a lock on his signal, we can track him.”

“Lead the way Lieutenant,” Obi-Wan smiled as they fell in line, Plo alerting Mace and Wolffe of the new development.

The path headed back through the tunnel and past Obi-Wan and Cody’s cells, the quiet darkness a relief after the discordant noise of battle.  A sharp turn and a few narrow passages later, Waxer called a halt.  A door was in front of the clone and Obi-Wan made his way forward, followed closely by Anakin.  Obi-Wan could just make out the low murmur of voices on the other side.  More than that though, Obi-Wan could feel the dark malevolence of Maul’s Force signature.  It pulsed through the Force with dark intrigue.  Obi-Wan sensed the confusion from both Anakin and Plo, they knew Maul should have sensed the three Jedi by now.  Obi-Wan tensed, an inkling what kept the Sith’s attention.  Or rather who.  The Force remained quiet with its continued low hum of warning and anticipation.

Obi-Wan motioned for Anakin to override the control panel, opting for stealth as the door quietly hissed open.  Anakin and Plo were through first, Obi-Wan being delegated to the middle without his lightsaber, Cody and Waxer bringing up the rear.  Obi-Wan’s view was blocked momentarily by a rock outcropping, but Maul’s voice rang clear with threatening promises as he crept forward.  Anakin and Plo were the first to see beyond the rock, Obi-Wan felt the sudden shock in the Force before Anakin’s head whipped around to look at him.    

“Who is that?” Anakin’s voice shook, eyes bright.

“Well, I’m sure I don’t know unless you move and let me see myself,” Obi-Wan scooted past his anxious padawan and looked out.

The scene wasn’t quite what he was expecting.  His men chained together and attached to the stone wall on the opposite side of the chamber was expected and posed a little concern.  Maul boasting away in the center of the stone floor, lightsaber on but lowered was expected.  Jason standing opposite Maul with Roy and Boil at his back weapons raised was a different standing order than he thought to find, but expected.  The two massive ethereal swords gripped in Jason’s hands were wholly unexpected.   

Obi-Wan studied them as well he could from where he was.  They shone an iridescent copper in the dim light of the cavern.  Maul’s red lightsaber looked dull in comparison, almost as if its light was being leeched from it.  Obi-Wan breathed and reached for the Force.  The swords were overwhelming.  More so than anything Obi-Wan had felt in a long time. 

Obi-Wan took a steadying breath.  He felt Plo’s soothing presence next to him, the Kel Dor Master brushed up against Obi-Wan, his own wonder felt strongly through the Force.  Anakin was pulsing on his other side, alarm and uncertainty pouring off him in waves.  Obi-Wan sent a soothing caress through the Force, hoping to ease his former padawan’s fears.  Obi-Wan felt Anakin close off the moment the younger Jedi felt Obi-Wan’s presence.  Startled, Obi-Wan tried to catch Anakin’s eye, the other refusing to look away from the scene in front of them.  Obi-Wan turned his attention back after a moment and reached out again with the Force.

Obi-Wan studied the blades through the Force, he looked past the flaming exterior and into them.  He found it then and couldn’t believe how he missed it before.  Obi-Wan understood Anakin now.  His padawan must have sensed it the moment he looked at Jason.  Those swords were a part of him.  Manifested from him.  They were Jason. 

The ice had cracked, and the Force fell silent.

Chapter Text

Jason was gonna kill this red and black horned fucker.  This was the Sith Waxer and Boil had mentioned.  Darth Maul, Boil had informed Jason and Roy as they had made their way through the tunnels, searching for the other clones.  According to Boil, Maul was unconcerned with anyone who wasn’t a Jedi or more specifically, Kenobi.  The Sith would just as likely kill them as keep them hostage and he had enough of those already. 

Maul’s double bladed laser sword was on the moment Jason, Roy, and Boil made it into the cavern.  The red cast a violent glow and Jason knew an intimidation technique when he saw one.  Jason didn’t hesitate as he made his way to the center of the cavern, he couldn’t, wouldn’t ever show doubt or fear.   

Jason’s gaze ran along the line of chained up clones behind the Sith.  He wasn’t inclined to wait for Kenobi to deal with Maul.  Jason was there now, those men were locked together and held hostage by a madman.  It was like being back in Gotham.  This was in Jason’s blood, what he excelled at.  He had Roy at his back, an enemy in his sights, and innocent people to save.    

Jason felt it, the moment he captured Maul’s attention, his interest.  It was a slick, cold feeling slithering down his spine.  A darkness that triggered every instinct in Jason.  Instincts from the streets of Gotham, from the Batman, the League and its teachers, but more alarmingly, instincts bestowed on him by the All-Caste.  Instincts he hasn’t felt since he battled the Untitled.  It took barely a conscious thought before the All-Blades were in his hands.

“What have we here,” Maul drawled, voice deep and grating as yellow eyes drank Jason in.  Jason heard Roy and Boil shift behind him, weapons raised.     

The All-Blades hummed in his hands, waiting for blood.  Waiting for evil to be slayed with righteous fury.  Jason was always full of a steady vein of fury, but thankfully the rage and madness of the Lazarus Pit hadn’t descended on him yet.  No, right now all he knew was the seething certainty that he was going to eradicate this evil in front of him.  After all, it had been some time since he felt the call of the All-Blades.  He rarely used them, even though he now could summon them at will.  The All-Blades weren’t taken lightly.  Too much power and control were required.  Too much sacrifice.  Jason’s blood beat with the pulse of the Blades. 

“How very unusual,” the Sith hummed, “and just where did you come from?”

“A galaxy far, far away,” Jason’s voice was clear, bored through the helmet’s modulator. 

“Indeed,” Maul’s nostrils flared as he twirled his red blades, “and you have decided to take up arms with the Jedi, why?”

“They found us first,” Jason shrugged, feigning interest, waiting for Maul to make his offer. 

He hoped the Force wouldn’t call him out as a liar.  That would suck for Jason.  He didn’t really want to fight some unknown evil telepathic, laser sword wielding lunatic.  At least, not until he had more information on this Darth Maul.  Information outside of he’s the evil version of Boil’s General.  The universe was rarely so black and white, no matter what Bruce claimed.    

“You hold no allegiance to the Jedi or the clones, it would be beneficial to your continued existence to abandon them,” a feral look crossed those red and black features.  Jason almost wanted to say Maul was trying to give him a benevolent smile, but it fell somewhere around malevolent instead. 

“Doing alright so far,” Jason tipped his head as yellow eyes narrowed. 

Maul’s head snapped to the side a moment later, a growl ripping out of his throat as Kenobi came into view followed closely by who Boil pointed out were Generals Skywalker and Koon. 

“Kenobi,” Maul hissed but didn’t move from where he was in front of Jason.  That wouldn’t do, he needed the Sith distracted and away from the chained-up clones. 

Jason took a moment to breathe, to focus on his connection with the All-Blades.  They seemed to fight for a moment, not wanting to be recalled.  Wanting the evil they sensed and called them forth to be destroyed.  Jason understood, he wanted it too, his heart drummed with the same need.  But, the clones were more important.  They were innocent in all of this, for all they were soldiers and Jason would always pick innocent lives, retribution would come later.  It always did.  The Blades flickered out of existence. 

****

Obi-Wan tore his gaze away from Jason’s empty hands and back to Maul.  The Sith’s attention fixated on Jason once more.  It was odd, Obi-Wan realized, seeing Maul’s fierce focus being given to someone else.  Obi-Wan had the strong urge to shepherd Jason far away from that sickly yellow stare, even though the man seemed to be holding his own.  The red helmet exceptionally helpful in concealing any visual discomfort and Obi-Wan wasn’t picking up anything from the Force.  The realization made him pause and stretch his senses again.  It was true he realized, Obi-Wan could detect nothing, no emotions from either Jason or Roy in the Force.  With a nudge in the Force from Plo, Obi-Wan knew the other Master realized it too.  Extraordinary. 

“Give up Maul,” Anakin’s voice cracked through the silence, “release the clones and come quietly.”

Maul let out an ominous chuckle as he eyed Jason one last time, attention finally fully shifted to Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Plo.  Maul’s saber staff raised and Obi-Wan saw his own saber still attached to the Sith’s belt.  Hand stretched out, Obi-Wan’s lightsaber came hurtling through the air just as the Force hummed in warning, the rock wall where Obi-Wan’s men were chained fractured and burst.  Shouts echoed in Obi-Wan’s ears but none were as loud as the shrieked growl let out by Maul.  Obi-Wan didn’t think he had ever heard the Sith make such a noise.  As the dust and rock settled, Obi-Wan could see why. 

Boil and Roy were at the far rock wall, or what was left of it quickly unchaining the clones of the 212^th that were closest to the blast.  A blast that seemed to have originated from Roy and one of his weapons.  Cody and Waxer were at their side a moment later, pulling vode out of their restraints and sending them over to Plo. 

Knowing his men were safe and being taken care of, Obi-Wan’s attention flew back to Maul and the rage boiling in the Force.  Anakin was by Obi-Wan’s side, lightsaber raised as they moved forward in search of the Sith.  They found splattered blood on the stone floor, Maul’s lightsaber had rolled through it and down to another rock outcropping that hid a dark chasm.  Obi-Wan could just make out Jason and Maul fighting on its ledge.  The rumble of a deep river could be heard over the sounds of battle.  Obi-Wan’s stomach churned, his face going stiff at the fight before him.

Obi-Wan understood in that moment how Jango Fett was able to kill six Jedi.  He understood the utter failing the Jedi had when it came to their training.  The Force could warn against intent.  It could not warn against visceral, innate abilities.  Abilities trained into someone so deeply, they were second nature.  Much like the Force was to Jedi or Sith.  Abilities that required no thought, no intent other than action and reaction.  Of course Obi-Wan could feel the emotions swell in the Force.  He could feel Maul’s rage, his uncertainty and fear as he fought Jason.  Emotions so strong, Obi-Wan could almost feel the pain of every hit land, every blow opening up a new wound.  He could feel the Dark Side swirl around Maul, the Sith reaching for it, gathering it close, ready to lash out.

Obi-Wan called on the Force and with little effort, shoved Maul over the ledge the moment that darkness coalesced.  Jason stood with his back to them, arms slowly coming down from whatever hit he had been about to deliver.  Footsteps came to a halt behind the two Jedi and Obi-Wan felt the stoic presence of his commander and the new presence he was coming to associate with Roy.  Beside Obi-Wan, Anakin was trembling.

“Jay,” Roy called out as he moved past Obi-Wan.

“I’m fine,” Jason didn’t move, shoulders rising and falling with his breath.

“You wanna take that helmet off and I can be the judge of that,” Roy took another step forward, voice hard as he stared at his friends back.

“Maul, sir?” Cody came to stand next to Obi-Wan as Roy approached the still form of Jason.  The commander holding up his hand, Maul’s lightsaber clutched in the palm. 

“Obi-Wan pushed him over the ledge,” Anakin’s voice was strained, blue eyes trained on the two people in front of them.

“He’s still alive,” Obi-Wan caught Cody’s side eye and flashed a small smirk, “I can feel his presence below us.  The river is taking him away.”

“Of course he is,” Anakin’s voice was petulant, Obi-Wan couldn’t blame his former padawan for the sentiment.

Obi-Wan’s attention turned back to their two guests.  Jason’s helmet was finally off and Roy had the dark haired man’s head clasped between two hands, a smile on his face as relief poured into the Force.  Jason’s eyes slid to Obi-Wan and ripped his head out of his friend’s hands the moment he noticed Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Cody’s attention.  Roy’s laugh echoed through the cavern as Jason shoved his friend and made his way back towards Obi-Wan and the exit.              

“Everyone all right?” Jason asked as he pushed past Obi-Wan and made his way back through to the original chamber, helmet tucked under an arm.

“Everyone’s out, no casualties, some injuries but nothing major,” Roy grinned, “I think Boil wants to hug you.”

“Absolutely not,” Jason snapped automatically.  Obi-Wan caught Roy’s eye, the red-head giving him a cheeky wink.

“Most of the troopers want to hug you,” Cody spoke clearly, face calm as Jason whipped around to look at the commander.

“I don’t suppose you’re one of those troopers,” Jason’s eyes narrowed, arms folded across his chest, jacket creaking with the movement.

“Of course not,” Cody said, voice casual as Jason huffed and began to turn, “I’m much more inclined to follow Waxer’s orders.”

“Which are?” Jason’s teeth were clenched as Cody let the statement hang.  Obi-Wan felt amusement grow in the Force, Roy doing a poor job at concealing his mirth.  Even Anakin had a small smile on his face. 

“Trussing you up and tossing you in the closest secure room to make sure you can’t do any stupid osik again,” Cody grunted, eyebrow raised.

Obi-Wan expected a dismissive eye roll, maybe a laugh, Anakin certainly gave a small one.  What he didn’t expect was the various churning emotions to swirl through the Force.  Strong enough to abruptly cut off Anakin’s chuckle.  Jason’s eyes widened as alarm flared in the Force before it was smothered with a flat, hard look accompanied by sharp resentment.  A breath later, Jason’s eyes lightened, more blue than green, with wry amusement as he looked at Cody.       

“It wouldn’t hold me,” Jason said after a beat, a sharp smile on his face. 

Obi-Wan’s commander shrugged, and Obi-Wan knew the clones would relish such a challenge.  Unfortunately, he didn’t think it would pan out the way Waxer thought, no matter how well intentioned it was.  Possibly for the very reason that it was well intentioned.  Obi-Wan stroked his beard in thought as the group made their way through the tunnels and corridors of the cave system.  Back to the battalions and Mace.  They had a very interesting debriefing ahead of them.

Chapter Text

Waxer and Boil’s nerves were grating in the Force as the troopers stood in front of Mace, ready to give their report.  Obi-Wan gave his troopers a reassuring nod as they waited for Plo and Anakin to arrive, the two generals finishing up delegating tasks to be completed by their battalions.  Cody was outside the command tent, waiting and watching their guests.  Jason and Roy having been fed rations and refused medical treatment for the time being.  A refusal that greatly amused Obi-Wan and annoyed the clones.  Plo and Anakin entered the tent a moment later, murmuring greetings as they took their seats. 

“Start at the beginning,” Mace said without preamble as he rubbed his forehead. 

Obi-Wan gathered his thoughts before he calmly began his report, beginning on Vrogas Vas.  Plo’s intrigue deepened in the Force as Obi-Wan summarized each interaction with Jason and Roy.  Obi-Wan had to cut Anakin a sharp look every so often, his former padawan clamping his mouth shut each time.  Mace’s stress looked to continually build as Obi-Wan’s voice trailed off, eyes’ shifting to Waxer and Boil.  Waxer began his report without hesitation.   

“Bring them in,” Mace nodded once Waxer finished.  Boil called Cody on his comm link, the three men waiting outside stepped in a moment later.

“Welcome, I am Jedi Master and Council Member Mace Windu, my fellow Council Members Master Plo Koon and Knight Anakin Skywalker,” Mace’s voice was cordial as he motioned to himself, Plo, and Anakin, “I believe there is some, clarification, we need regarding your business here.”

“We don’t have business here,” Jason arched an eyebrow, “we’re stuck.”

“Can you elaborate on that?” Mace’s voice was sharp and Obi-Wan hoped Jason wouldn’t be deliberately obtuse to that tone.

“I might’ve touched something I shouldn’t have,” Roy chimed in with a sheepish smile, “we were one place one moment, then another the next.  Kenobi and the clones showed up about two days later.”

Obi-Wan waited for Jason or Roy to elaborate.  The silence hung on and irritation flared in the Force.  Obi-Wan shot a look at Anakin, one matched by Plo aimed at Mace. 

“Would you tell us about the plans you both and Trooper Boil enacted once you separated from Master Kenobi and your interactions with Darth Maul,” Mace leaned forward, dark eyes focused on Jason.

“Boil’s brothers weren’t there,” Jason shrugged, a small smile on his face, “the clones that got caught with Kenobi and Commander Cody.  We just figured if no one else was looking for them, and you all had the droids nice and distracted, we might as well find them.”

“You have quite the gift for understatement,” Mace’s voice was flat, tired in a way Obi-Wan heard more often these days.

Jason’s grin told them all they needed to know.  Honesty, the Force whispered, just like it did on Vrogas Vas.  Mace sighed, and Obi-Wan saw the moment he heard what the Force was calling for.  Determination swept the Master’s features as he leaned forward with a sharp, decisive nod. 

“What made you think you could go against a Sith?” Mace voiced what they all had been thinking.  What they all wanted to know.      

Obi-Wan watched a faint smile, an almost real smile flicker across Jason’s face.  Roy snorted and the atmosphere marginally relaxed in the tent. 

“We’ve fought plenty of things that can do what you do,” Jason rubbed the back of his neck, “well, maybe not exactly what you do, the laser swords are definitely new.”

“Lightsaber,” Plo gently corrected.  Jason and Roy nodded, impressed looks as they committed the name to memory.

“But, yeah, reading minds and pre-cognition,” Jason shrugged, “sure, it’s not exactly normal, but we’ve come across it and fought against it enough times to know how to handle it.”

“It’s not true mind reading,” Plo spoke, claws clasped in front of him.

“Good to know,” Roy said, “we have true telepaths and usually with mind reading comes controlling others minds.  It rarely ends well.”

Obi-Wan’s jaw tensed at the thought, the complete violation of a person’s autonomy.  He could feel the disgust flow through the Force at the very idea of someone committing such an action.

“There’s also plenty of tech out there that can do it too,” Jason tacked on, “devices, nanobots, machines, subliminal messages, chips, whatever someone can think of or build.”  

Obi-wan sat quietly, fingers clenched around his wrists beneath his robes.  It was certainly a haunting notion.  The Force nudged him, a warning, something to meditate on later.

“Waxer and Boil warned us about Maul,” Roy continued bringing Obi-Wan’s attention back to the matter at hand, “Jay was confident if we couldn’t get Kenobi out, he’d be able to deal with Maul.”

“That’s what I am having a hard time understanding,” Mace’s voice was pleasant, his dark eyes less so. 

“Was it because of those swords, where’d you even get them, where are they now?” Anakin finally spoke, voice bursting with demands. 

****

Jason dragged his eyes away from Windu, the Jedi doing a poor show of hiding his annoyance with Skywalker.  Jason couldn’t help but notice the haggard look Skywalker was sporting.  Dark shadows were cast under his eyes, face pale even though his blue eyes burned as they stared Jason down.  Jason quickly glanced at the other three Jedi Masters, all look tired and worn, but none of them looked on the verge of a mental breakdown. 

“It was like we said,” Jason turned to look back at Windu, “we’ve dealt with stuff like this before, nothing more to it.”

“You’re not telling the truth,” Skywalker lurched to his feet, face tight as the Jedi ignored Kenobi reprimanding him. 

“The hell I’m not,” Jason squared up against Skywalker, “and the last I checked, I didn’t use the All-Blades to fight the so called Sith, I didn’t fucking need to.”

Skywalker’s face contorted as his chest heaved.  Jason felt Roy shift beside him, a guard at his back and blind spots.  The All-Blades sang as Jason watched Skywalker grow more furious.  Jason stilled, head cocked as he analyzed Skywalker and the steady bloodlust growing within himself.  It was almost the same feeling he had when he stood across from Maul.  Weakened, not as fierce, but still present.  Still concerning.  After all, even though Jason could summon the Blades at will, they still could and would manifest with little thought from him in the face of evil.  Breakdown imminent, indeed.     

“Sit down Skywalker,” Windu ordered, the younger Jedi barely complied as his eyes remained on Jason.   

“How do you become a Sith?” Jason asked abruptly, his own eyes didn’t leave Skywalker even as he addressed the question to Windu.

“Jedi can Fall,” Koon answered, voice level through his mask, “a Jedi who Falls succumbs to the Dark Side of the Force.  Sith are trained in the Dark Side of the Force.”

“Maul was raised to be a Sith,” Kenobi added, his own eyes sharp on Skywalker.

“Can Sith Fall?” Roy cocked his head, red hair falling into his eyes, “you know, into the Light?”

Jason almost choked holding in a laugh.  The looks on the Jedi’s faces were priceless.  Skywalker having the largest dissonance from boiling resentment one moment to gaping incredulity the second Roy’s question left his mouth.  As far as Jason was concerned, it was a valid question.  The path has to go both ways after all.  Doesn’t mean it would go both ways evenly, but, still.   Jason liked to think his own life was a testament to that.  Roy’s too, to an extent.  They both found a balance, one that worked for them.  One that didn’t cater to either of the extremes.         

“It does not happen in the same sense,” Koon’s eyes were light, “but, yes, it has occurred on the rare occasion.  Although, not in a few thousand years.” 

“What?” Skywalker’s voice was breathy, stunned.

“Anakin,” Kenobi placed his hand on the younger Jedi’s prosthetic, “balance and peace can always be found, one just has to accept it.”

Jason watched as Skywalker seemed to collapse in on himself.  Strings cut, the Jedi tilted his head back against the chair, face slack and ashen.  Jason couldn’t feel the Force or connect to it, or whatever, but Skywalker must have been projecting some disquieting emotions for Kenobi, Windu, and Koon to be looking at him the way they were.  Hopefully they picked up on how close to breaking Skywalker was. 

“As stimulating as this diversion has been,” Windu’s head tilted towards Jason with a stern look, “you want help getting back to where you came from, you better start answering our questions.  And make it quick, we are in the middle of a war.”

Jason made eye contact with Roy, his friend giving him a bleak smile.  Fucking honesty.

“Most of our telepaths aren’t good at hand to hand combat,” Roy began for Jason, “I mean, you get in someone’s head, you control them, you don’t need to be.  It seems to be holding true in this universe,”  Roy trailed off with a shrug, green eyes catching Jason’s attention.

“It is most certainly a failing in our teachings,” Kenobi was grim as Skywalker sputtered out denials next to him. 

“Please explain, Obi-Wan,” Koon nodded in encouragement.  Jason watched as both Jedi and clones shifted in interest.

“When Jason was fighting Maul, the Force was screaming in warning and danger.  I could feel Maul very clearly through the Force,” Kenobi hesitated, eyes shifting around the tent, “there was nothing from Jason.  Had I not been looking at him fight Maul, I would have been hard press to even know someone was there.”

A tense silence descended as Jason thought over Kenobi’s statement.  He analyzed the fight with the Sith again, nothing stood out.  Sure, he had to compensate for the mechanical legs, he didn’t aim any hits to those things, not after the first attempt at a leg sweep.  But Jason fought just as he would with any other villain, meta, or super.  He fought to win.  There was no other outcome acceptable.  Not with lives on the line.      

“That’s just my training,” Jason hedged.

“And that is the exact problem,” Kenobi sighed, shoulders dropping.        

“I’m better trained than you are?” Jason lips quirked, forehead crinkled as Skywalker sneered, vehemently shaking his head in disagreement. 

“In certain aspects,” Windu stressed as he glared at Skywalker.

“The Jedi are peacekeepers,” Koon spoke over his two fellow council members.  Jason and Roy scoffed at the statement.

“I know it may not seem like it now,” Koon dipped his head in acknowledgement, “but, war is not in our nature.”

“Then why are you fighting one?” Roy’s question was met with despondent silence.  

****

Obi-Wan had been asking himself the same question since he discovered the clones on Kamino.  The Jedi were not made for war, not as the Order stood now.  Millennia ago, yes, there were true Jedi warriors, but not now, not with the current interpretation of the Code.  There was no easy answer.  As the war dragged on, Obi-Wan feared there was no longer any valid answer either. 

Obi-Wan breathed and sank into the Force.  It weaved calmly, if a bit despairingly around the each of the tent’s occupants.  Obi-Wan felt the steady thrum of Mace, the former Master of the Order deep in thought as Roy’s question continued to go unanswered.  The low level anticipation was back in the Force, a kernel of hope bloomed in Obi-Wan.  Maybe they could change.  Maybe the Order could grow. 

“Look,” Jason’s voice was low, soft in understanding, “we’re obviously not going anywhere and it seems like you all need some rest and time to think.”

“Yes, we can finish this at another time, or better yet, back at the Temple,” Mace nodded, face relaxing as he dismissed Jason and Roy.  Cody, Waxer, and Boil saluted them as the clones escorted their guests out of the command tent.

“What just happened?” Anakin groaned once the tent was cleared.

“We met someone very adept at not answering questions,” Mace rubbed his temple.

“Yet very adept at posing intriguing ones for us,” Plo was quietly amused, “questions we should have been meditating on and investigating since the beginning of this war.”

“Should we question them separately?” Anakin shifted, eyes landing on Obi-Wan.

“I believe we would gain more knowledge if we just had an honest discussion with them,” Obi-Wan mused, the Force surging in agreement, “after all, they are not from here and hold no biases.  It could very well be beneficial to both the war effort and the Order.”

“I want to know about those swords,” Anakin’s jaw was clenched and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but sigh at his former padawan’s relentless focus.

“The All-Blades,” Plo hummed as Anakin’s head swiveled to look at the Kel Dor Master, “he called them the All-Blades.”

Chapter Text

The trip back to Coruscant was quick, calm in the way post-campaign trips seemed to be.  Obi-Wan was looking forward to being back in the Temple and the men deserved a much needed leave.  He had been meditating whenever he could scrounge up the time, searching the Force for guidance.  Cody was steadily growing more irritated with him as Obi-Wan continued to miss meals and sleep cycles.  He finally succumbed and gave his commander a break on the last night cycle before they disembarked for the Temple.

Obi-Wan tucked a smile away as their little group descended to Coruscant, the wide-eyed gazes of Jason and Roy were greatly amusing.  The Council had decided to keep Jason and Roy’s presence limited to only the Jedi, and by extension the gossiping clones, as their being here was a matter of the Force.  Anakin had branched off early, claiming he had a meeting with the Chancellor.  Obi-Wan didn’t doubt it, but he knew Anakin would be with a certain senator for much longer.    

The Temple guards disarmed Jason and Roy before Mace led the way through the main entrance, Jedi and other residents calling out greetings as they passed.  Even with so little beings residing in the Temple, Obi-Wan felt himself relax bit by bit as they made their way through the halls. 

“I get it,” Jason’s soft voice brushed his ear, “peacekeepers.”

Obi-Wan tilted his head slightly and looked at the man walking by his side.  Jason’s face was soft in awe, the white tuft of hair falling into his bright eyes. 

“The Temple is a beacon of peace and hope for the galaxy,” Plo’s voice was proud from the other side of Roy, a feeling of pleased contentedness curled through the Force. 

“How many Jedi are there?” Roy’s tone was equally full of wonder, his head turning each and every way it could. 

“Too few,” Mace spoke from the front, solemn as they came upon the lift to take them to the Halls of Healing.

****

Coruscant was nothing like Jason had ever seen.  A planet that was entirely a city, stretching towards the stratosphere.  The vehicles flying through the cityscape were unreal and Jason thought Gotham drivers were bad.  It was almost jarring when he walked into the Jedi Temple itself. Tranquility, such as he doesn’t think he has ever felt, especially not since his resurrection, washed over Jason.  For the first time, in a long time, Jason felt like he could breathe.  So he did.  Jason took in deep lungful’s of air as subtlety as possible as he and Roy were brought through a maze of corridors before they stopped in front of an elevator.      

“Where are we going?” Roy’s nose was practically pressed to the translucent glass of the elevator. 

“To see the Healers,” Windu eyed Roy, a reluctantly amused look on the Jedi’s face. 

Jason knew all too well how the man felt as he stared at his friend, the answer slow to sink in.  He flinched though, the moment the words did.  It wasn’t Jason’s proudest moment, not with the concerned looks he received.  A sharp protest was on the tip of Jason’s tongue when Kenobi smoothly cut him off.

“You are from another universe,” Kenobi gave them both a pointed look, “it would be completely absurd not to give you a standard checkup at the very least.”

“You didn’t before,” Jason retorted, glaring at the unimpressed look Kenobi gave him.

“Yes, whenever would we have had the time,” Kenobi drawled as the doors opened and Koon ushered them out with a chuckle. 

Jason’s protests died as Roy clamped a hand around his wrist, tugging the anti-hero down the hall.  They followed Koon through a large set of doors and into an open, softly lit room, a blue lady in robes standing at its center.  Jason took one look at that blue face and knew he was screwed.  The Doctor, or Healer, was looking at him just like Doctor Leslie did.  Jason set his jaw and stared back.  He could’ve sworn he saw a blue lip twitch. 

“Masters,” the Healer gave a slight bow which was returned as greetings were exchanged.

“Alright, what have you brought me?” the Healer stepped forward with a smile, “at least it’s not Obi-Wan this time.”

“Master Che, this is Jason Todd and Roy Harper,” Kenobi stepped aside, allowing Che to get closer, “they are, visitors, and will need a full medical report.  Jason, Roy, this is Master Vokara Che.”

“Ma’am,” Jason and Roy parroted each other and Che’s brow rose in amusement. 

“Welcome to the Halls of Healing,” Che nodded brusquely, “now, who first?”

“It would be best if they stayed together, Master Che,” Windu cut in, the Healer nodding in acceptance as she led them into a small hallway and through a door at the very end. 

The room was simple, clean and white like all medical rooms seemed to be no matter the planet or universe.  There were two beds and Jason took the one closest the door, Roy huffed as he passed and flicked Jason’s ear.  There was a chair next to each bed, although no one moved to take a seat.  Jason’s fists clenched as his ears started to buzz.  Whatever peace he had found was starting to fade away.

“Alright,” Che’s voice cut through the room, “I’m going to need you to remove your clothes.”

“Don’t I get dinner first?” Roy chuckled as his hands moved over his armor, eyes steady as he looked at Jason.  Jason who hadn’t moved an inch and wasn’t going to. 

“You haven’t fed them?” Che glared at Windu, voice flat.

Windu didn’t respond and Che snorted at the Jedi’s stony silence.  A scanner of some sort was pulled out and Che gave Windu one last look before she turned to Roy.  Roy who was stripped down to his boxers, a bright grin on his face.  Jason rolled his eyes.  Shameless diversion tactic.    

Jason tuned out as Che began to ask Roy a series of standard medical questions, the scanner beeping along as she went.  Done with the generic questions, Che pulled out a tube and jabbed it into Roy’s arm, the archer flinching at the sudden movement.  Jason tensed and Roy’s eyes cut to him, giving Jason a small, reassuring smile.  Jason pulled his eyes away from his friend only to notice Windu and Kenobi looking at him.  Shoulders tense, Jason stared back, anxiety curling in his gut.      

“You will need the standard inoculations,” Che reported from beside Roy, eyes sliding to Windu in question.

“We’re not from around here,” Roy smiled up at the Healer.

“That much is clear,” Che snorted as she eyed Roy, “and you’ve lived quite the life where ever you are from.”

Roy shrugged and continued to smile easily at the Jedi.  Stripped as he was, the archer’s scars and tattoos were on view for all to see.  Curved and slashed over muscle and skin, it certainly painted a picture with few interpretations.  Jason wondered if their Force could pick up on the brittle twist he could see in Roy’s eyes.        

“Jason, was it?” Che’s steady dark eyes met his, “I’m going to need you to remove your clothes now.”

Jason felt his throat constrict under the high collar of his armor.  Windu shifted beside him and Jason took a sharp breath through his nose.  He bent down a moment later, methodically removing his boots while everyone seemed to settle around him.  Jason focused on his breathing as he removed his layers.  Jacket, utility belt, armor, pants, all of it came off.  The undershirt was last, always last.  Jason’s gaze was locked on the pale wall over Che’s shoulder as he pulled the shirt off and placed it, folded neatly, on the bed.    

“You been working out, Jaybird?” Roy waggled his eyebrows as Jason caught his eye.  A smirked crawled across Jason’s face, muscles loosening as he looked at his friend.

“Can’t hold me down,” Jason chuckled as he made eye contact with Che. 

“That certainly seems to be true,” the Healer’s blue eyes were narrowed, the tentacle things coming out of her head twitching, “however, that does not mean you should be reckless.  Life is a gift.”

Jason’s jaw locked as the scanner whirred to life, Che stepped in close as she began another round of generic medical questioning.

****

Obi-Wan tried to be subtle, well, at least more subtle than Mace was being.  He couldn’t fault the other Master, it was rather difficult not to just outright stare at the two practically naked men sitting in front of them.  It wasn’t the nudity.  For all that most Jedi elected to wear multiple layers, they were raised communally and accustomed to bare bodies.  No, it was the story marked on those bodies.  The vicious map that took the eye from place to place.  Violence to continued violence. 

Roy was a shock.  Puncture marks along veins covered by swirls of color.  Pale shapes, some with jagged lines and some with smooth edges broke up what was once smooth, freckled skin.  A smile that stretched over a blank face as the red-head sat still for Vokara.  The only break in the facade Obi-Wan caught was in response to Jason.    

Jason.  Obi-Wan was not a medical expert, by any means.  Many would certainly claim he had no ground to stand on when it came to healthy, well, health practices.  Master Che especially.  But nothing, his own experience included, could have prepared him for Jason.

The moment that undershirt joined the other folded articles of clothing on the bed, Obi-Wan felt a certain, disconnect, fall over him.  Nothing about what he saw made sense.  Nothing about what he saw said Jason should be alive.  Like Roy, Jason had various scars from knives and other projectiles.  It wasn’t those Obi-Wan was astounded about seeing.  It wasn’t even the silvery scar stretched across the side of Jason’s throat which alone could have been considered fatal, though the man clearly had received treatment for it.  No, it was the massive scar bisecting his torso from the belly button up to the collar bone and branching out to the shoulders.  That was not a wound someone survived. 

Obi-Wan almost missed the exchange between Jason, Roy, and Vokara.  The spike of resentment in the Force pulled him back to attention.  Obi-Wan breathed and reached out to the Force, the resentment manifesting around Jason.  Obi-Wan caught Vokara’s clear blue eyes, the Healer solid in her Force presence.  Obi-Wan smiled slightly.  He truly wondered what it would take to rattle Master Vokara Che.           

Another breath and Obi-Wan reached out to the familiar presences of Mace and Plo.  Plo, who was broadcasting concern into the Force so strongly, Obi-Wan knew the Kel Dor Master was not far from unofficially adopting the two wayward travelers.  What surprised Obi-Wan was Mace.  Sure, Obi-Wan picked up what he expected from the other Master; skepticism, caution, the general stoic air.  But, the intense intrigue was certainly a revelation.  As was the clear concern, strikingly similar to Plo.  And if Obi-Wan was being honest with himself, his own too. 

Jason and Roy may be from another universe.  They may have violence written into their bodies.  But Obi-Wan knew Jason and Roy were good men.  Good men who could help.  The Force hummed in agreement.  Help with what, Obi-Wan didn’t know, he would have to meditate and hope the Force held more answers.  Obi-Wan felt a prod from Mace.  It seemed they all would be meditating on the matter together.             

Chapter Text

Jason’s arm had that dull ache from one too many needles being jammed into it.  They had been in the sterile, white medical room for hours waiting on test results to make sure whatever inoculations they were given weren’t going to kill them.  It was considerate if Jason was being honest.  But, it took a long fucking time and Jason’s skin felt tight, his nerves raw.  Windu and Koon had left about an hour into the whole procedure, a brief excuse about Council business which had Kenobi frowning. 

It’s where Jason and Roy were headed now.  Kenobi leading them through the peaceful halls of the Jedi Temple once more.  Jason couldn’t feel the peace seep into his skin this time around.  Even Roy’s green eyes were trained forward, hard and calculating as the elevator doors opened once more for them.  They were headed for the top, Jason’s body tensing the higher the elevator climbed. 

The elevator doors opened and Jason subconsciously scanned the anterior waiting room, a large double door opposite them.  The only ones outside the elevator doors.  The lights of the planet flickered through the windows, colors dancing across the floor and walls as Jason and Roy followed Kenobi across the room.  Kenobi hesitated at the door, Jason caught the Jedi’s eye and nodded.  Ready as they could be.  Kenobi straightened and pushed the doors open. 

The large circular room Jason walked into glittered with the lights of the city at night.  Although, with so many lights, it didn’t seem truly dark even as far above the city skyline as they were.  Kenobi led them forward into the center of the chamber.  A circle of chairs with various beings surrounded Jason and Roy, some there in the room, some the flickering blue of a projection.  Introductions were made by Windu, names, faces, species filtering in as Jason turned around the room.  He was a bit surprised to see Skywalker sitting in a chair next to Kenobi. 

“This is the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, Master Yoda,” Windu indicated to the last member, “Council Members, this is Jason Todd and Roy Harper, the travelers Master Kenobi recovered from Vrogas Vas.”

“Travel far, you have,” the little green gremlin, Yoda, hummed.

“Accidentally, yes,” Jason hated the circular room, his back exposed no matter which way he faced.

“Know how you came here, you do,” those big green ears were perked. 

“You seem to know that too,” Jason grit his teeth as he glared at the wizened face. 

Deeper wrinkles formed around dark eyes as the Grandmaster said nothing.  Jason had the distinct feeling he was being laughed at.  Roy brushed his shoulder and Jason took a subtle breath as he reined himself in.  The wrinkled green head tilted, eyes falling shut for a moment. 

“The object, still have you do,” Yoda’s gaze fell on Roy, “examine it, we must.”

“It’s with my quiver,” Roy said, “your guards took it when we came in.”

“Retrieved and brought here, it will be,” Yoda nodded and Jason could hear Kenobi behind him quietly send the request. 

Silence fell in the room and Jason could feel the various sets of eyes on him, on Roy.  Yoda’s eyes were half-mast in front of him, far off as Jason waited out the silence.  It was not his strongest quality, patience.  Jason could wait for a target, be steady on an op or recon mission, but those all had endpoints, ones he could control.  Waiting on others, especially on others who were essentially deciding his fate, his friend’s fate, Jason felt his anger at the helplessness of their situation swell.  Green and bubbling.    

“Strong feelings you have,” Yoda climbed out of his chair and approached Jason, “strong will.  Hide you do.”

“I don’t hide from anything,” Jason growled as he stared down, fists clenched.  He could hear the other Jedi shift in their seats around him.

“Hide yourself,” Yoda banged his walking stick on the floor, the sharp sound harsh in the still air. 

“To stay in control,” Jason snapped, eyes widening as he clicked his mouth shut.  Temples pounding as he breathed.   

“Wronged you were,” Yoda’s ears drooped.  Jason snorted, a harsh laugh falling from his lips as his mouth twisted.

“Come back from darkness you have,” Yoda’s voice was certain, “help us, you can.”

“Right,” Jason grimaced, “we help you, and you help us.”

“Misunderstand,” Yoda smacked his stick against Jason’s shin, “help you, we would, no matter.”

Jason fought the urge to punt the little green troll.  Next to him, Roy huffed and Yoda’s skin crinkled around serious dark eyes. 

“Help us, you will because just, you are,” Yoda waddled back to his chair.  The chamber doors opened a moment later, and two Temple guards came through with their equipment, Jason’s red helmet front and center.

****

Obi-Wan hadn’t felt this confounded since he landed on Kamino nearly three years ago and was introduced to a clone army.  Actually, that was false.  Obi-Wan hadn’t felt this way since he entered that cave and saw Jason, the same man before him now, wielding two blazing swords.  Then before that on Vrogas Vas.  Obi-Wan sighed, he would just have to consolidate all confounding feelings revolving around their inter-dimensional visitors into one scenario.  Force knew it wasn’t going to end anytime soon.  Certainly not with the smug satisfaction Master Yoda was projecting into the Force.  The meddlesome troll. 

Obi-Wan caught Mace’s eye from across the room, hard resolve etched across the Master’s face.  Even though Mace was calm in the Force, tension was strung throughout his body as he moved to take Jason’s belongings from one of the guards, Plo doing the same for Roy.  Their two guests watched his fellow Masters warily as they sat back down. 

“The object is in your,” Obi-Wan looked from Plo’s full claws to Roy, “quiver, you said?”  

Roy nodded and Plo motioned for him to approach.  The red-head did so with sure steps, body and face open, calm intent radiating in the Force.  Obi-Wan looked quickly back at Jason.  The man had barely turned his body away from Yoda to watch his friend.  Obi-Wan couldn’t blame him.  The Force rippled around Jason with agitation, the skin around those bright teal eyes tense.   

A soft exclamation from Plo caught Obi-Wan’s attention.  Obi-Wan felt it then, the strong pulse of light that was coming from Roy’s hand.  The first time they spoke on Vrogas Vas, Jason and Roy had referred to it as an orb and it was, in the sense that it was a round, smooth object that fit comfortably in Roy’s palm.  What the two couldn’t have known was that it was made out of Kyber.  A pure white, the rounded crystal blazed with the Force, entwining itself around Jason and Roy. 

“Hmmm, yes, help us you will,” Yoda cackled, “go back when you are done, you shall.”

“You know what this is?” Roy held up the crystal, twisting it in his fingers.

“It is a Kyber crystal,” Plo leaned forward and Roy stooped, lowering the crystal so the Master could look closer, “in the barest of terms, they are what power our lightsabers. This one has been shaped, molded.”

 “Are they sentient?” Roy eyed the crystal and Obi-Wan felt Plo’s mirth in the Force. 

“They have been considered to have sentience, they are most certainly sensitive to the Force,” Plo’s skin scrunched around his goggles. 

“This is unprecedented,” Shaak’s voice came through flat across her projection, “Grandmaster, why do you think the Force would bring them here?”

“Know not, I do,” Yoda answered, surprisingly blunt, “answers, only they have.”

All eyes fell back on Jason and Roy, the latter still bent down next to Plo.  Obi-Wan watched the complex non-verbal conversation between the two.  Frustration rose in the Force as Roy seemed to vehemently disagree with whatever Jason wanted, a mulish jut to the red-head’s jaw.  Jason would not back down, Obi-Wan wondered if he ever did, but stood firm with reluctant determination.    

“Roy’s a clone,” Jason stated, lips curled slightly as he met Obi-Wan’s eyes.

“What the fuck Jason,” Roy squawked, snapping upright from beside Plo.  The Kel Dor Master reached out, grabbing Roy’s wrist as the man’s chest heaved. 

“What, you are,” Jason shrugged, ignoring his friend’s slowly reddening face. 

“It’s not something for you to blurt out,” Roy hissed, “how would you like it if I just –”

“Don’t,” Jason’s voice was low, deadly flat and Obi-Wan felt a slickness creep into the Force as he watched. 

“I just figured,” Jason shrugged, a drawl edging into his voice, “you’re a clone, we met and army of clones, your experiences may help them.”

Roy’s jaw worked before he closed his eyes with a sharp nod.  Plo released his wrist a moment later.  A scarred hand ran through Roy’s red hair, green eyes scanned the Council Members.

“I didn’t know I was a clone,” Roy started, shooting one last glare at Jason before he turned back to Plo.  Obi-Wan felt Plo project soothing reassurance into the Force and Roy seemed to relax.

“A scientific research company called Cadmus had kidnapped the original Roy Harper and made me with all his memories, all his everything,” Roy took a deep breath, “made me to replace him in our world.”

“Why?” Shaak spoke from Kamino, every Council Member listening intently.

“Sleeper agent,” Roy’s face was grim, voice hard.

“You mean?” Anakin spoke up, brow furrowed as Roy nodded to the unfinished question.

“Yeah, that whole mind control thing we mentioned earlier,” Jason’s face was blank, his teal eyes looked green in the lights from the city.

“Why were you, or rather, why was Roy Harper chosen?” Mace asked.

“I am Roy Harper,” Roy snapped, arms crossed as Mace held up a placating hand, apologizing.

“Roy was part of a team of people who protect our planet against, well, anything that wants to do it harm,” Jason said and Obi-Wan could pick up nothing from him, a remarkable blankness where moments ago there had been so much. 

“They used you against them, your team,” Anakin’s shoulders were curved as his elbows rested on his knees.

“Yeah, I mean,” Roy gave a painful chuckle, “who would’ve thought, right? It almost worked too.”

Obi-Wan sat up straighter at that and the Force pleaded for him to listen, to understand.  He listened in the silence of the Council Chamber.  Obi-Wan listened as Roy’s individual experience opened up a gateway to much larger possibility.  A possibility with shattering consequences.  Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan saw Mace jerk, hands clutching his head. 

“Shaak,” Obi-Wan lunged to his feet, “you need to scan one of the clones for anything non-organic, something that could inhibit them, control them.”

“Tup, Fives,” Obi-Wan almost didn’t recognize Anakin’s voice.          

Various voices rose up.  Anakin was beside Obi-Wan, almost yelling in his ear.  Roy was sitting on the arm of Plo’s chair, the Kel Dor grasping the red-head hands in his claws.  Jason hadn’t moved from the center of the room, though Yoda was now leaning on his grimmer stick next to the man.  Obi-Wan felt the Force build around him, awash with certainty.  With hope. 

“Do as he says,” Mace cut through the noise, sharp and sure. 

Chapter Text

Jason hated Roy’s cold shoulder routine.  Especially because he typically always deserved it.  Jason usually had Gotham and cases he could work on to give them space from each other.  Instead, he was stuck in a dinky, beige cell masquerading as an apartment with his pissed off best friend and no outlet for either of them.    

“You know why I did it,” Jason groused, “and look, it seems like it’s gonna work out.”

“I’m not hearing an apology,” Roy glared, mouth in a hard line.   

“It was the better, safer option,” Jason continued, eyes narrowed, “it actually has to do with their situation.  I mean come on, how thick do they have to be to not see it.”

“What if they didn’t see it, Jason?” Roy sighed, face drawn and tight.

“Then I’m pretty sure they’d all be dead in the very near future,” Jason drawled, “look at how many clones there are.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Roy whispered. 

“What?  You mean what if they saw it as you being at fault?” Jason snarled as Roy gave a small nod.

“Then fuck them, fuck their hypocritical code of being peacekeepers,” Jason was pacing, nails digging into his palms, “Roy, any fucking person or thing that blames you for your actions while being mind-controlled deserves what’s coming to them.” 

“Then why don’t we tell them about your experiences?” Roy’s green eyes met his as Jason came to a dead stop, fists shaking.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Jason gaped as Roy leaned back against the, what do you know, beige couch.

“Definitely not getting an apology,” Roy muttered before speaking clearly, “no, I’m not out of my mind.  The All-Blades came forth for the Sith, you know, the apparent evil version of the Jedi.  I think that might be useful for them to know.”

“Yeah, right, sorry,” Jason scrubbed a hand down his face, “I thought you were talking about the death and resurrection thing.”

“Never Jay, you know that,” Roy grabbed his hand and pulled Jason down to the couch, “oh, and apology accepted.”

Jason groaned as he smacked Roy’s thigh, the archer chuckling beside him.  Head tipped back on the couch, Jason eyed the little kitchenette behind them.  The room wasn’t anything special, set up like any generic apartment back in Gotham.  One room, kitchenette, and what Roy said was a small bathroom off to the side.  There was another door on the far side of the room, Jason figured it led to a bedroom.  All in a bland beige that was really driving Jason more insane than the fact that they were locked in.  Need their help, his ass.    

“That fucking gremlin, man,” Jason shook his head, annoyed.

“I think he likes you,” Roy laughed, “for whatever reason.”

Jason huffed and kicked Roy’s foot as he stood and made his way to the kitchenette.  What looked like a tea kettle was on the counter and Jason started opening cabinets before he found some containers of hopefully, tea.  The door chimed and opened just as he was prying off a lid to one of the tins.  Jason looked up as the tired form of Kenobi entered the room.

“Tea?” Jason held up the tin.

“Oh, why, yes thank you,” Kenobi blinked, “do you know how to brew that?”

“Nope,” Jason popped as Kenobi shuffled over and started fiddling with the kettle. 

A series of beeps later and the tea was brewing in silence.  It didn’t take long, but Jason could see the weight lift off Kenobi as the silence continued uninterrupted.  Jason could only imagine what the Council Chamber was like once they had been escorted out.  Another cabinet opened and Kenobi took out, Jason grimaced, three beige ceramic cups and poured for each of them.  With a nod of thanks, Jason led the Jedi back to the couch and took a seat next to Roy, handing the archer his tea.  Kenobi took the only chair in the room across from them. 

“You’ve caused quite the upheaval,” Kenobi murmured as he took a sip of tea.

“Seems to be working out for the good of your men,” Roy echoed Jason’s earlier statement. 

“Yes,” Kenobi said, the stark gratitude on his face was a welcomed surprise.          

“So, if we’re right,” Roy hedged, “what are the other problems we’re going to have to deal with?”

“The Senate,” Kenobi’s voice was tired and Jason wondered when the man last had a good night sleep. 

“Don’t tell me you own the clones,” Roy spoke in a low tone, eyes hard.

“Technically the Senate does,” Kenobi admitted, clearly against the notion, but lost as how to fix it. 

“You might want to start with that,” Jason’s head throbbed.  They weren’t politicians or bureaucrats, not in their universe and not in this one.  

“We have been trying, Plo, Shaak, myself, and the few Senators we trust,” Kenobi took another swig of tea, “I’m afraid it is a battle we have been losing, even more so than this war.”

****

Obi-Wan should be sleeping, he knew this, he just couldn’t ignore the tug of the Force.  Sleep could come later, speaking with Jason and Roy was more important, for the whole of the galaxy it seemed.  Obi-Wan’s fingers tightened around his tea, the warmth seeping through the ceramic.  How could he possibly find sleep, anyway?  If what happened to Roy is happening to his men like the Force is suggesting, no, sleep would not be coming any time soon.  No matter how heavy he felt. 

Obi-Wan stared at the two men sitting across from him.  Jason’s tea was perched precariously on his knee, muscled arms stretched across the back of the couch.  Roy was sitting with his own legs tucked up and crossed, both of them the image of relaxed.  Obi-Wan didn’t need the Force to tell him it wasn’t real.  He understood now.  He may not understand them, but he understood the façade they portrayed.  Two good men who have lived ruthless lives, have struggled to not let the cruelty corrupt them.  It was an admirable, if precarious path to walk. 

“The Council is open to any insights or information you may provide,” Obi-Wan had a multitude of questions he wanted to ask, but restrained himself.  It was better to build trust with information freely given.

“We’re gonna need to know a bit more about what’s going on for that,” Jason tilted his head, blue-green eyes lidded.  Obi-Wan felt his own begin to fall and shook himself.   

“I think we can save that for tomorrow,” Roy interrupted, “you look beat, Kenobi, take some rest while you can.”

A protest was on the tip of his tongue, automatic as it seemed to be nowadays.  But Jason and Roy weren’t Anakin and Cody, Obi-Wan didn’t need to be the Jedi Master or General with them.  Warm gratitude slowly spread through his chest.  These two were truly selfless.  The Force hummed in agreement as it wrapped itself around Obi-Wan.   

“Until tomorrow,” Obi-Wan stood and bowed, Jason taking his empty tea cup.  Obi-Wan gave both men a brief but sincere smile as he left, the soft murmur of farewells echoed as the door slid shut behind him.

****

“Did you drug him?” Roy raised an eyebrow.

“Nah,” Jason shook his head, “I thought about it, but didn’t know if the Force would warn him.”

“Is it too much to ask if we’re going to be sleeping?” Roy glanced over his shoulder as he made his way to the door panel.

“Please,” Jason snorted.

“It’d be extremely unpredictable of us,” Jason could hear Roy’s grin, “very out of character.”

Jason didn’t bother to answer, just gathered the tea cups and brought them into the kitchenette.  A few more peeks through the cupboards and Jason found some ration bars which he pocketed.  Roy’s happy exclamation drew Jason back to the archer’s side, the panel blinking as the door slid open.  A white and golden orange helmet greeted Jason.

“Are you here to rescue us,” Roy rested his chin on Jason’s shoulder. 

“No, but I did just win ten credits off of Waxer,” Boil’s voice was light through the modulator, body relaxed as he stepped away from the door.

“Are you still supposed to be watching us?” Jason smirked as the clone removed his helmet, brown eyes bright as they inspected Jason and Roy.            

“The General’s orders still stand,” Boil nodded, “so, don’t go trying to make another escape attempt.”

“Is it an attempt if it’s successful?” Roy mused as he pushed past Jason and out into the hallway.

“No, neither is it an attempt if you’re back before anyone finds out,” Waxer’s voice called out over Boil’s comm.

Jason traded a grin with Roy.  A glance to Boil and the clone was moving past them, quickly and quietly as he led Jason and Roy through the slumbering halls.  With Boil in the lead, it took them no time to reach the exterior of the Temple, a smaller platform in front of them.  It wasn’t the same way Jason and Roy had come in and there were no Temple Guards, just Waxer at the far end of the platform. 

“You guys aren’t sneaking around like that,” Jason nodded to Waxer’s armor. 

“We’re not sneaking anywhere,” Waxer tilted his helmet, regarding Jason, “we’re taking you to the barracks for a few hours, figured you’d need it after meeting the Council.”

“Considerate of you,” Jason gave the clone a flat smile, “but, that’s not what we’re doing.”

Boil shifted next to Jason, boots creaking.  It would help to have the clones with them, both as guides and alibis.  Although, Jason did wish they weren’t in their armor. It was a bit too recognizable.       

“We just want to check a few things out,” Roy crossed his arms with a slight smile.

“Like what?” Waxer gritted, suspicious as he looked between Jason and Roy.

“The Senate,” Roy’s smile innocently grew.

“No,” Waxer vigorously shook his head.

“Look, we’re already out here, you’ve already broken some rules,” Roy persuaded, “just think of it as a side trip, sightseeing if you will.”

“Why?  Why do you want to go to the Senate?” Boil piped up, moving to stand next to his brother.

Jason studied the two men in front of him, one bare faced and the other covered.  They were individuals, just like Roy was no matter what their genetics said, what anyone said.  Like any living thing, they deserved to be free.  Kenobi made it seem like the majority of the Senate didn’t see it that way.  If that was the case and whoever commissioned the clones was working with or for the Senate, Jason figured there must be someone there who would know about how the clones would be controlled.  It was a hunch Roy agreed with, the archer knowing just how much power someone had to have to pull strings like that.  Jason met Waxer’s eyes through the visor.  Corrupted power.  Evil power.         

“They own you,” Jason grimaced as Waxer and Boil flinched, “for a lack of a better term.”

“We were made for the Jedi,” Waxer countered, fists clenched.

“Yeah, and when did you stop feeling like that was a good enough reason for existing?” Roy’s eyes flashed, “after your first brother died, your tenth, fiftieth?”

“It’s not the Jedi who have the legal power to help you,” Jason grasped Roy’s forearm, “you’re both bound to the Senate, so the Senate is where we start.”

“Start what?” Boil’s eyes were wide, Jason could see the hope brewing. 

“The path to freeing you and your brothers,” Roy’s smile was vicious, victorious.

Chapter Text

Waxer was reeling.  It felt like his heart was in his throat as small tremors shook his body every so often.  Boil’s solid presence an anchor until he remembered the trouble his vod would be in if they were caught.  It would be Waxer’s fault too.  He could have pulled rank as the superior officer.  But, no, it felt right what they were doing, even if it was sneaking around.  Sneaking around dressed only in their blacks.  Waxer felt practically naked.  But, Jason and Roy had made a good argument for leaving their armor inside the Temple entry.  The white and orange was far too noticeable.  Waxer grumbled as they rounded a corner inside the Senate building.  It didn’t mean he had to be happy about not having his armor. 

It had been tense, sneaking into the Senate building.  Avoiding the guards and various security measures was a true test of Waxer and Boil’s training.  A test that seemed a bit skewed in favor of their guests.  After the second time they were almost caught by the guards, Roy moved to take point, Waxer tapping his shoulder whenever they needed to change course.  The red-head’s instincts were uncanny.  Avoiding security like he had laid the traps himself or scheduled the guard’s rounds.  Jason was a shadow behind them, silent in a way no man his size should be.  The darkness of the Senate wrapped itself around him as they moved through the corridors.  They may not have the Force, but Waxer was certain they had something.    

Roy motioned for a halt, the four of them sliding into a dim alcove.  Waxer looked past Roy’s shoulder, up the hall where he noticed a soft glow coming from under one of the doors.  He glanced at Roy, the man’s eyebrow raised in question.  Waxer pulled up the plans for the building, eyes quickly skimming the names associated with the floor they were on.

“That’s Senator Amidala’s office,” Waxer’s eyes widened as Boil cursed behind him.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Roy peeked out again.

“That depends,” Boil choked out, “on if General Skywalker is with her or not.”

“How clandestine,” Jason gave an over-exaggerated gasp, “what a rebel, sneaking out after hours, shirking his duties.” 

“It is,” Waxer solemnly nodded as he looked back at Jason, “Jedi are forbidden from having attachments.”

“Granted,” Boil tacked on, “Skywalker and Amidala are one of the worse kept secrets in the GAR.  Especially since Amidala is one of the few Senators who supports the clones and is against the war.”

Waxer had to concede that point as he glanced from his vod to Jason.  Jason, whose face was shadowed yet bright eyes seemed to almost glow, fixated on Waxer.  A calculating look flashed through those eyes as they moved past Waxer to land on Roy.  Waxer didn’t turn to face the red-head, he kept his attention firmly on Jason as a sly smile grew across the man’s face.  Waxer lurched forward, too late as Jason moved quickly past him and out into the hallway.  Strides purposeful as he walked toward Amidala’s office door. 

“Get ready,” Roy grinned as he followed Jason.  Waxer exchanged a disconcerted look with Boil before hurrying after both men.

Jason knocked sharply on the door and Waxer clasped his hands behind his back as the silence grew.  Tension rippled through his body as the door remained shut.  A shadow flickered under the door, the light dimming for a moment.  In Waxer’s peripheral, he caught the quirk of Jason’s lips.  The door slid open a moment later revealing the pleasant, if confused smile of Senator Amidala.  Waxer gave the Senator a shaky smile of his own which did nothing to assuage Amidala as she subtly gripped her concealed weapon tighter. 

“We are sorry to bother you Senator,” Waxer’s voice seemed too loud, “I’m Waxer from the 212^th.”

“That must make you Boil,” Senator Amidala smiled at his vod, “but I’m afraid I am at a loss as to who your companions are and why you are here at this time.”

“This is Roy Harper and Jason Todd,” Waxer motioned to each man, Roy giving a little wave.                          

Waxer would have missed it, the slight intake of breath and Amidala’s eyes widening if he hadn’t introduced Jason last.  But he did and those reactions could only mean one thing.  The Senator knew exactly who Jason and Roy were.  A slow smile spread across Jason’s face and Waxer knew Jason had picked up on it as well.  Waxer shut his eyes, just for a brief moment. 

“He really is terrible at following orders,” Jason drawled and Waxer wanted to cuff the man.

“I’m sorry,” Amidala’s eyebrows rose.  She was good.  After all, it definitely wasn’t General Skywalker’s skill that had kept their relationship under wraps.           

“Skywalker,” Jason said like they weren’t talking about an illicit affair in the dead of night after breaking into a secure government facility. 

“I do not understand what Knight Skywalker has to do with anything,” Amidala’s shoulders went back, chin up as she stared at Jason, a slight flush to her cheeks.

Waxer’s gaze followed the Senators’ over to Jason and remained stuck there.  Waxer could be looking at a whole other person for all that the man’s face was the same.  Dark hair swept back with only the white patch drifting across his forehead, shoulders slouched and face open with a softly inviting smile, Jason looked disarming.  Waxer schooled his face to remain passive before glancing back at the wide eyed gaze of Senator Amidala. 

“Of course, I apologize,” Jason’s husky voice met Waxer’s ears, “I must have been misinformed.”

“You most certainly were,” Amidala pulled her eyes away from Jason looking to Waxer for a moment.  Waxer opened his mouth to apologize, to explain, to lie when Jason spoke again and Waxer froze.

“Would I be able to come in then?” Waxer and Senator Amidala’s eyes snapped back to Jason. 

“They have stuff to do,” Jason continued as he gestured to Waxer, Boil, and Roy, “I frankly don’t want to tag along, didn’t in the first place.”

“What exactly do they have to do?” the Senator’s voice was sharp.

“Sightseeing,” Waxer blurted out, echoed by Boil and Roy.  Jason’s smile grew at their response and the Senator’s sudden incredulous laugh. 

“Very well,” Amidala nodded after a moment of clear deliberation.  Waxer watched in astonishment as Amidala moved to the side for Jason, the man’s dark head dipping in appreciation.

“Have fun on your tour,” Jason called over his shoulder, shooting Waxer a wink.  This was not good.

****

Jason was going to somehow have to get Waxer’s credits back from Boil if the clone was going to overlook this.  Granted, if he ratted Jason out, Waxer would also have to come clean, so Jason wasn’t too worried.  Still, Roy would want Jason to show his gratitude, really it was the least he could do.  Who even knows if the clones ever experience any appreciation for what they do anyways.  Jason grit his teeth as the office door hissed shut behind him, this was such a fucked up situation. 

A quick scan of the room and Jason pegged about four places Skywalker could be hiding.  The Jedi’s size narrowed it down quite a bit.  As did the hallway off to the side which led further into the office suite.  It was a nice reception room, all smooth lines and plush seating.  The soft blue walls were a nice touch. 

Jason slowly turned back to Senator Amidala who was still standing with her back to the door, hand tucked in the folds of her skirt.  A frankly large and opulent skirt that Jason bet could conceal a host of weapons, instead of just the one she was clutching.  Or conceal the baby bump she was sporting.          

“You can quit it with the wide-eyed innocent school-girl routine,” Jason smiled as he stared down at the Senator.  A confused pucker formed between dark brows before it smoothed out with a look of steel.  Jason snorted.

“I see the charm doesn’t last long,” Amidala said lightly as she removed her hand from her skirt, chrome pistol held tightly in her grip.

“Nah,” Jason chuckled, “my brother got all of that.  I’m just a poor imitation.” 

Dark eyes considered Jason.  A softer study than he had probably ever received but no less sharp.  Senator Amidala was smart, prepared, and a bit of a daredevil judging by the fact she let a strange man into her room in the middle of the night.  Even though Jason suspected Skywalker was here, it was still a bold move.  For the clones’ sake, Jason hoped she was kind too.  Although, what someone like the Senator saw in Skywalker, Jason couldn’t guess, but if it worked, it worked. 

“How can I help you Mr. Todd?” Amidala gestured to one of the plush grey couches.  Jason nodded his thanks and moved to take a seat, the cushion dipping slightly under his weight.

“I don’t need any help,” Jason shifted, smiled, “you do though.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” the pinched look reappeared on Amidala’s face as she lowered herself into a chair across from Jason, pistol still trained on him. 

“You need help with this war,” Jason leaned forward, elbows on his knees, “specifically, you need help with the clones.  Roy and I are pretty good at getting information, whether the sources want to give it or not.  We’ve also been known to get people to change their minds a time or two, really, anything you’d need.” 

“What you’re suggesting is illegal and immoral,” Skywalker’s voice bit out from the shadows of the hallway. 

Senator Amidala stood and glared as the Jedi came out into the reception area.  Dark robes billowing out as Skywalker came to stand beside Amidala.  Jason could see the deep love in Skywalker’s gaze as he stared down at the Senator.  A realization clicked into place.   

“So, you’re okay with breaking a Code you swore an oath to uphold for selfish reasons, but not helping someone else commit extortion for selfless reasons,” Jason rose to face Skywalker, mouth quirked as Skywalker flushed.

“It rarely ever ends with just extortion,” Amidala stated, chin raised.

Jason snorted as Amidala completely evaded his statement, such a politician.  Jason eyed Skywalker as the Jedi loomed above the Senator, a dark scowl pasted on his face as he stared at Jason. 

“Petty crime, your relationship, that baby,” Jason pointed at Amidala’s stomach, eyes on Skywalker, “your Code isn’t what you should be worried about violating, it’s your men’s basic rights.”

Jason waited as silence reigned in the room, the blue walls having little calming effect on the three occupants.  He re-assessed the two people in front of him.  Amidala had her hand curled protectively over her stomach, the pistol still clutched in the other.  Skywalker was close to snapping, much closer than Jason had previously thought, the Senator seemed to be the only tether to stability the Jedi had. 

“If you aren’t going to uphold your Code, your Senatorial duties and help,” Jason’s teeth flashed, “I’ll do it my way and extortion will be the least of your problems by then.”

“Do not threaten us,” Skywalker’s voice shook as blue eyes flashed.

“I’m not threatening either of you,” Jason rolled his eyes, “if I was, someone would be bleeding.”

Skywalker’s body tensed impossibly tighter and Jason was just about done with this conversation.  Jason turned his attention to Amidala once more, her dark eyes already on him. 

“Look, you’re not winning this war, no one ever wins in a civil war,” Jason shifted on his feet, “especially when one side is fighting with droids and the other with actual living, breathing, sentient lifeforms.  You lost.  You lost the second you decided to accept a slave army.”

Jason could see the understanding on the Senator’s face, she had thought about this before.  Hell, she had probably argued the same thing.  Kenobi was right, the Jedi and clones didn’t have many allies in this.  It stank of corruption, manipulation, the vile scheming of something or someone truly evil.  Something or someone that had an all-encompassing hatred for the Jedi.    

“How do you know you can trust me and I you?” Amidala’s voice didn’t waver, dark eyes brimming with purpose and belief.  That right there was enough for Jason. 

“You don’t,” Jason shrugged and inclined his head to Skywalker, “and I sure as shit don’t trust him.”

Skywalker bristled, mouth opening with a snarl before snapping shut as Amidala’s hand reached out and gripped the Jedi.  Jason felt it then, the deep call of the All-Blades.  He took a breath, eyes locked on Skywalker as he forced the sensation down.  This wasn’t the time.  But it was coming.  Whatever battle Skywalker was having, it was boiling over, and Jason knew it would scorch everything in its path. 

Chapter Text

Jason stood beside Roy in the small, side entrance of the Jedi Temple.  Waxer and Boil were strapping their armor back on as the dawn light slowly crept over the cityscape.  The clones looked exhausted and had a wariness that wasn’t there before.  Jason could only guess the types of thing Roy purposefully let slip on the archer’s little mission.  They would have to talk to Waxer and Boil soon.  After all, it was their lives Jason and Roy were messing with the most.  They were good men.  They deserved the truth.    

“Relax,” Jason clapped Waxer’s shoulder, “Skywalker can’t confront you about this, not without outing himself.”

“He could still send us to some remote planet for the rest of our days,” Boil’s face was worried as he slipped his helmet on.

“He’d have to get through us and Kenobi first,” Roy reassured the clones as they exited the Temple, once again dressed in their armor.    

“Whelp,” Jason clapped his hands together, “thanks for the sightseeing gentlemen.”

Twin helmets faced Jason, only the paint setting them apart.  Roy gave Jason a sharp, berating look and Jason huffed, arms crossed.

“We’ll explain everything when we see you next,” Jason said, voice serious as he held out a hand.  Waxer studied Jason for a moment before giving him a slow nod, palm coming up to grasp Jason’s forearm. 

The clones left as Jason and Roy ducked back inside the Temple, soft pink light at their backs.  They carefully avoided the Temple guards as they made their way back to their room, Jason was looking forward to maybe getting an hour or two of sleep.  Roy quickly removed the door’s panel, rearranging the correct wires and the door slid open.  Jason smirked as Roy put the panel back together, he was getting rather good at that.  The beige couch was a welcomed sight as Jason collapsed face first into the cushions.  Roy followed quickly behind, falling on Jason’s back. 

“I’m pretty sure there is actually a bedroom,” Jason grunted.  Roy hummed in response, his breath tickling Jason’s neck. 

“You get what we need?” Jason asked, eyes closed as Roy’s warmth seeped into his back.  Roy hummed again in confirmation. 

“Good,” Jason shifted, body turning onto his side.

Jason could imagine how excited Roy was to try out the tech the clones brought along.  It would have been overwhelming to almost anyone else, but not Roy, the damn manic genius.  His friend probably asked enough questions about the communication tech and hacking techniques to write a book about it.  Jason sighed.  Roy slid over, tucked between Jason and the back of the couch.  It was a tight fit, but Jason didn’t care.  He had Roy at his back.   

****

Obi-Wan loved the early hours in the Temple, the calm serenity before the hectic commotion of the day began.  Before the war, the aura of the Temple during the busy days was always alight with eagerness and dedication.  Now, Obi-Wan could always feel the heavy shadows creeping in, the sense of grief and failure.  Obi-Wan breathed and released his own melancholic feelings into the Force.  It would get better, this war would end. 

The Room of a Thousand Fountains seemed to be the only place within the Temple the weight of the war couldn’t invade.  It was for that reason Obi-Wan had suggested it to his fellow Council Members as the place to have their group meditation.  Yoda, Mace, and Plo had all agreed as they were the only other Council Members in the Temple at the moment.  Obi-Wan sighed, Anakin was technically in the Temple too or he was supposed to be, not that his former padawan was answering Obi-Wan’s summons.  This would be the first group meditation in many years, certainly since Obi-Wan had joined the Council and it would have been beneficial for Anakin to create a deeper connection with the other Jedi Masters.  Obi-Wan struggled to release his frustration with his former padawan into the Force.  It didn’t do to dwell.

Obi-Wan followed one of the lesser traversed paths through the gardens, following the other Jedi Master’s Force signatures to a secluded meditation spot.  The Force sung in the tranquility.  Obi-Wan kneeled across from Yoda, nodded to Mace on his left and Plo his right. 

“Much to discover, we have,” Yoda intoned, “may the Force guide us.”

Obi-Wan let his breath even out, let it match the pulsing rhythm of the life around him.  He reached out to Master Yoda first as the Grandmaster of the Order was the tether for this meditation.  He felt Plo and Mace moments later as they lowered their shields for one another, tenuous bonds forming.  Obi-Wan breathed deeply.  Impressions flitted through the Force.  He could feel Mace’s resolve and Plo’s protectiveness, Yoda’s insight as the Grandmaster delved into the Living Force. 

Yoda began there, with his own memories and impressions of their guests.  Obi-Wan saw Jason and Roy through Yoda and the Living Force.  He felt Yoda’s acute concern with how the Force moved around each man and their clear displacement.  Obi-Wan felt Mace and Plos agreement with Yoda’s observations.  They all had experienced the same feelings from the two men. 

Master Yoda shifted his focus and Obi-Wan felt himself be led past the surface displacement that surrounded Jason and Roy and into the impression of Roy himself.  Particularly in connection to the Kyber crystal orb.  Yoda could feel the crystal’s strong connection to Roy, much more so than to Jason.  The Force weaved in agreement.  Roy was the one who found and touched the crystal, carried it.  It was attuned to him. 

Plo’s presence came forward, the Kel Dor’s own observations overtook Master Yoda’s.  Obi-Wan felt the fiery strength and protectiveness in Roy rise up when the clones were mentioned.  Emotions that were echoed in Plo himself, a connection forming between the two even though Roy was not aware of it.  But still, Roy felt grounded to both Yoda and Plo.  The Force moved steadily around the red-head, solid and sure.  Knowing and hopeful. 

Plo eased his presence back and if Obi-Wan hadn’t been so deeply connected to Yoda, he would have missed the Grandmaster’s hesitation.  Concern flickered through the Force and Obi-Wan sent out his own reassurance to his fellow Masters.  A moment later, Yoda showed them Jason as he saw the man through the Living Force.

The Force stilled around them and Obi-Wan fought to understand what he was seeing.  He thought the physical scars were terrible.  It turned out, they distracted from something even more horrifying.  Obi-Wan felt Yoda’s sorrow sweep through the meditation bond.  Come back from darkness, he has, Yoda’s voice rippled through Obi-Wan’s mind.  Mace’s incredulity burst through at the statement.        

Never had Obi-Wan seen such deep fissures along an individual.  The darkness cut through Jason in immense slashes, cracks that ran in every direction along the man’s psyche.  He looked closer, an eerie green scarring weaved through the darkness like sutures.  Although, it seemed to pull some cracks apart just as much as it bound others together.  Obi-Wan couldn’t understand how Jason was alive.  Nothing could survive such devastation to one’s self. 

The Force moved through the group of Masters, but its meaning wasn’t clear.  Obi-Wan did not doubt that it brought Jason and Roy to them.  Roy’s presence alone brought enough change, and for the better with how light the Force felt regarding the clones.  Obi-Wan knew the battle for their men’s rights and lives was far from over, but it was no longer shrouded and murky.  With Roy, Obi-Wan could feel hope shift through the Force once again. 

But the Force was silent in its intent around Jason.  Silent as if the Force itself didn’t know Jason’s intent.  Or was hiding it.  Obi-Wan felt his fellow Masters shift, uncomfortable with Obi-Wan’s thoughts.  Yoda pulled at them again, sent a probing question to Mace, much to his fellow Master’s annoyance.  Obi-Wan felt Mace slowly open his mind, the shatter point he experienced in the Council meeting coming into focus.

While Obi-Wan was prone to visions, shatter points were another beast entirely.  The splitting pain he felt, while secondary to Mace’s, was overwhelming.  What he saw was heart stopping.  A future that was narrowly avoided, their men, his 212^th, mindless drones.  A warning shot through the Force.  Secrecy was paramount.  The shatter points that occurred if others found out were disastrous.  Obi-Wan shuddered as Mace released them.  Obi-Wan came back to himself, let the living greenery around him ground him in the present.             

“Closer, we must look, when next we meet them,” Yoda murmured, ears flat. 

“If the Force brought Roy here to help the clones,” Plo steepled his claws, “what if Jason is here for the Sith?”

“Know this, we cannot,” Yoda shook his head.

“It’s a good hypothesis as any,” Mace rubbed his forehead, shifting on his knees.   

“We need to speak with him, about, well,” Obi-Wan stroked his beard, “him, honestly.”

“Open up to us, he will not,” Yoda banged his walking stick on the soft ground, “authority, we represent.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but agree.  Both Jason and Roy seemed to flaunt the rules at any chance.  Obi-Wan stood, bowing deeply to Yoda, Mace, and Plo.  Deep in thought as he left them in the shade of the garden. 

Obi-Wan wandered through the Room of a Thousand Fountains, the Living Force pulsing around him.  The group meditation while beneficial to see the other Master’s observations, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but feel even more lost than before.  He understood Roy’s presence, though why the Force felt the need to physically bring someone across universes was beyond him.  The Force seemed to dance with amusement around Obi-Wan as he strode through the grass and under the canopy. 

However, more questions arose regarding Jason.  What master Yoda showed them should not be possible.  Not even through the Force.  Although, obviously Jason had survived, seemingly sane and whole.  At least, to the naked eye.  That was just it wasn’t it, Obi-wan stopped beside a large flowering tree, so far everything about Jason was there for all to see.  He hid nothing.  Not his emotions or his opinions.  Just himself.  That was what Master Yoda had said, Jason hid himself.   

“Unnatural, he is,” Yoda spoke from behind Obi-Wan, “know this, he does.”

“He’s not afraid of himself,” Obi-Wan mused, turning to look at his great-grandmaster.

“Understand himself, he does,” Yoda nodded, “accepted his path, he has.  Like himself, he does not.”

Obi-Wan shut his eye, chin dropping.  The Force weaved in despondence, but Obi-Wan could not detect any falsehood or disagreement to Yoda’s statement.  

“He shouldn’t be sane, never mind fully functioning,” Obi-Wan kneeled once again in front of Yoda.

“Greater purpose, he has,” Yoda hummed and Obi-Wan raised and eyebrow, Yoda cackling at the look. 

“Know not, I do,” Yoda’s grimmer stick made a dull thud on the grass. 

“Do you think he would be able to fight a Sith?” Obi-Wan rocked back on his heels, standing once more.

“Already, he has,” Yoda tilted his head and Obi-Wan sighed.  Well, yes, technically Jason had.   

“There is something we need to find out,” Mace called out as he and Plo stopped a few paces away, “their skill level”. 

“We could invite them for a training session or a spar,” Plo suggested, interest coloring his voice.

“Make it both,” Mace decided as he turned to leave, “today.”

Obi-Wan exchanged a look with Plo, the Kel Dor Master nodding as he pulled out his comm link.  Plo would summon the clones and block off an appropriate time for the training salle.  Obi-Wan bowed to both Yoda and Plo, taking one last calming breath, the Force content and anticipatory before he made his way out of the Room of a Thousand Fountains.  He hoped Jason and Roy would be amendable to their plans for the day.    

Chapter Text

Roy was practically vibrating next to Jason as they sat outside the training area while various clones and Jedi gathered in the seating areas around them.  Kenobi had collected them mid-morning, arms full of tan and brown material which turned out to be Jedi tunics and pants.  They were comfortable, breathable, and easy to move in.  They almost reminded Jason of the League’s training clothes, just in various shades of beige.  Jason plucked at his shirt, he really needed to let this color thing go. 

Everything was just so, not Gotham.  Even with Coruscant being a planet entirely covered by a cityscape, the upper tier was so, clean.  Shiny.  Jason scanned the crowd around the training room.  Unsuspecting.  Any self-respecting Gothamite could have picked up on the gross amount of manipulation going on in this war.  The city would have been rioting by now with all the power grabbing and suspicious legislation. 

The data Roy collected while sightseeing with Waxer and Boil was promising.  Promising in the sense that they were definitely on the right track to tearing down a megalomaniac.  They just had to find out who the puppeteer was and hopefully not tip them off in the process.  Jason knew it wouldn’t be him or Roy who dropped the ball.  They didn’t exist in this universe.  The only thing easier than being legally dead when partaking in illegal activities.  Roy shifted next to him and Jason’s eyes landed on Skywalker as the Jedi strode into the room.  A shorter Jedi with what looked like white and blue striped tentacles coming out of their head and huge blue eyes hurried after him.  The room fell silent as the doors sealed shut behind them. 

“Good afternoon,” Windu called out to the sea of identical faces from the center of the training area. 

The Jedi Master was flanked by Koon and Kenobi, Yoda perched on his shoulder dark eyes on Jason.  Skywalker and his companion, who seemed to be as excited as Roy, were next to Kenobi.  Kenobi, who seemed to be doing his best to not reveal his exasperation at the pair.  It wasn’t working.  Not on Jason who had relished in Alfred’s silent exasperation; and apparently not on Skywalker, who was smirking as he glanced at Kenobi.    

“We’ve called you here for a new training exercise,” Windu started, the clones around Jason perking up, “we have two guests who will be joining us, Jason and Roy, please come forward.”

“He’s really not one to waste words on explanations is he,” Roy snickered in Jason’s ear as they rose and moved forward. 

Jason came to a stop in front of Windu, Roy shoulder to shoulder with him.  As one, they bowed to the Jedi, palms flat against their thighs.  Jason straightened just in time to see Windu’s eye twitch as Yoda cackled from him perch.  Plo beckoned for Roy to move off to the side with the Jedi Master leaving Jason alone in the center.

“Padawan Tano,” Windu called out, the Jedi who came in with Skywalker jerked to attention, quickly coming to stand beside Jason.

“Masters Windu and Yoda,” Tano bowed deeply, her voice young and bright.

“A demonstration from you, we ask,” Yoda’s eyes moved between Jason and Tano.  Wide blue eyes flickered up to Jason before snapping back to Yoda and Windu. 

“Of what?” Jason raised an eyebrow, wrists clasped behind his back.

“Ahsoka practices Jar’Kai,” Kenobi gave Tano a pleasant smile, “she wields two lightsabers in battle.  It would be beneficial to her training if you would spar with her.”

“With what?” Jason held up his empty hands, “do I get some lightsabers?”

Skywalker shifted in Jason’s peripheral, head tilted and eyes narrowed.  Jason shifted gazing placidly at Windu, Yoda on the Jedi Master’s shoulder like an overgrown judgmental tumor.  A mirthful hum came out of the troll and Jason’s lip twitched. 

“What do you need two light --,” Skywalker prodded as he stepped around Kenobi and up to Tano, her shoulder hitting Skywalker’s chest as she stayed facing Windu.  Jason didn’t miss the eye roll she tossed to the side though.       

“We have a pair of practice sabers you can use,” Kenobi smoothly inserted, hands flicking out and two lightsabers came hurtling towards him.        

Kenobi deftly moved around Skywalker, Tano stepping back to allow the Jedi room as he held out the lightsaber handles to Jason.  Jason bowed again before he took the hilts from Kenobi.  The metal warm and well balanced in his palms.  Jason nodded to Windu and Yoda before he stepped back, the Jedi and Roy following suit as they moved to take their seats with the clones.  Tano remained in the center of the training mat with him, her own lightsabers clutched in her hands. 

Jason twirled the hilts on his palms, fingers ghosting over the craftsmanship until he found a catch.  Hilts pointed down, Jason pressed the catch on each, one blue and one green blade springing to life with an electric hum.  Jason couldn’t suppress his grin as he studied the blades.  Jason’s eyes rose when he heard the echoing sound of Tano’s lightsabers ignite, the padawan’s feet shifted apart, stance low and ready.           

“So, you just want us to fight?” Jason’s gaze slid to Windu, “no rules or anything.”

“Ahsoka,” Skywalker called out with a smirk, “don’t kill him.”

Tano saluted the Jedi with a sharp toothed smile.  Jason huffed, incredulous as he shook his head and settled into his own stance, lightsabers raised, mind blank.  Tano’s brow furrowed for a moment, eyes moving over Jason as her limbs coiled ready to spring.  Jason stepped forward into her attack, his own blades deflecting her strikes and opening up her middle for a solid kick to the ribs.  Jason didn’t hesitate, didn’t think as his leg came up, body twisting all the way through and around as he made contact.  Tano went careening to the side, hitting the ground with a harsh thud as one lightsaber skittered from her grip.  Skywalker was up and across the training mat to where Tano was scrambling to her feet in no time, face thunderous. 

“I’m alright Master,” Tano brushed herself off, glancing at Jason with a frown, “he just, took me by surprise.”

“I think that’s why we’re doing this,” Jason called out, spinning his lightsabers as Tano squinted and moved forward.  Skywalker backing up to the edge of the mat.    

“Right then,” Tano settled, lightsabers raised, “you won’t be doing that again.”

“We’ll see,” Jason’s eyebrows flicked up, a crooked smirk crept across his face.

Tano moved around him, steps measured as Jason followed her progress.  He waited, patient as she studied him, a curious tilt to her head.  Jason could see Tano’s confusion and the determination he bet she always carried with her.  Jason shifted his stance, Tano tensed as her body moved to match his.  He waited, not willing to strike first, not yet at least.  He wanted to get a feel for Tano just as much as she did for him.  Plus, she probably thought she had more to prove.  Something Jason could understand and definitely something he would exploit. 

Tano lunged and Jason smoothly stepped out of the way, sabers not even connecting with Tano’s, there wasn’t any need.  Tano spun, she was quick as her lightsabers arched, Jason’s coming up to deflect.  Their arms were locked above their heads.  Jason’s eyes latched onto large blue ones and he saw the moment Tano realized her precarious position.  Jason flexed, arms that could lift Batman coming down as he locked a leg behind Tano and let gravity and momentum take over.  Tano was on the ground, Jason kneeling over her with all four lightsabers crossed against Tano’s neck. 

“Yield,” Tano blinked up at him, her voice firm. 

“Again,” Jason stood and held out a hand.  Tano hesitated, but took it and Jason smiled.    

“Had I been an actual enemy,” Jason cocked his head, whirling the green lightsaber, “what would you have done?”

“I would’ve shoved you off with the Force,” Tano said, squaring her shoulders.

“You might want to do that this time,” Jason smirked as he glanced over at the on-looking crowd.

Roy was grinning ear to ear, the clones around him sitting much closer than they had been when Jason was there.  Waxer and Boil were on either side of Roy and if Jason wasn’t mistaken, there was definitely some money being exchanged. 

Jason tensed, his skin crawled as the hairs on the back of his neck stood.  Jason ducked, tucking into a roll just as Tano’s lightsabers sailed overhead.  He sprang up, sabers connecting with Tano’s as they locked once more.  Tano smirked up at him and Jason felt himself be lifted and thrown back.  Jason twisted in the air, lightsabers tucked in close as he flipped and landed on the balls of his feet.  Within a breath he sprang forward, only a few paces away from Tano whose eyes widened in surprise.  Tano leapt forward, meeting him halfway and Jason smirked as their sabers clashed.

They danced around each other.  Tano growing more and more frustrated as Jason evaded her strikes.  She didn’t become sloppy though, her movements still precise as Jason deflected another attack.  Right now though, Tano didn’t have enough patience and that was a gaping flaw Jason took advantage of.  He slid into her defenses once more, felt the prickle of something unseen gather around his wrists.  Jason snapped his head forward, a sickening crack echoed in the training room as Tano dropped to the mat.

“Fuck you have a hard head,” Jason groaned, lightsabers shutting off as he pressed fingers into his temples. 

Jason looked down, Tano slowly sitting up, legs crossed under her as she clutched her own head.  Jason dropped to his knees, sitting on his heels. 

“You good?” Jason laid a hand on Tano’s shoulder. 

“I’ll be good,” Tano’s blue eyes met Jason’s, “once you teach me how you move like that.”

Jason chuckled as he held out his hand, Tano grasped his wrist and Jason hauled them both to their feet. 

“I mean it,” Tano didn’t let go of his wrist, squeezing as Jason glanced over at the Jedi walking towards them.

Jason looked back at the young Jedi, blue eyes fierce and jaw set.  Jason nodded in acknowledgment, he had seen Tano’s skill, the potential she had to be an outstanding swordsman.  The patience would come with time.  Once it did, well, Jason wouldn’t want to be on the other end of her sabers. 

****

Obi-Wan could feel Ahsoka’s awe and eagerness pulse in the Force as she stood across from Jason, hand still wrapped around the man’s wrist.  As he and his fellow Jedi approached the duo, Obi-Wan could feel a wary enjoyment flicker through the Force and knew it was from Jason.  Obi-Wan suppressed a smile, few could remain impassive against his grand-padawan. 

“Well done Padawan Tano,” Mace’s voice was almost drowned out by the cheers of the clones.  Ahsoka bowed, pleased as Anakin went to stand beside her. 

“Train with us, you will,” Yoda looked up at Jason from beside Mace. 

One dark eyebrow raised and Jason snorted at the steady look the Grandmaster was giving him.  The Council Members were calm as sharp eyes slid over Yoda, Mace, and Plo.  Obi-Wan could feel the anticipation build in the Force, the ripple of change and the unknown. 

Jason looked over Obi-Wan’s shoulder, eyes narrowing as his lips pinched.  Roy, Waxer, and Boil were seated behind Obi-Wan.  He could feel the clone’s hesitant hope and Roy’s solid resolve.  Obi-Wan felt resigned exasperation burst through the Force as Jason’s head tipped back, shoulders heaving as he sighed.    

“You need to stop thinking of these,” Jason held up the two lightsabers in his hands, “and the Force as your greatest weapons, they’re tools.  You are your greatest weapon.”

“We are peacekeepers, not weapons,” Plo re-asserted, troubled as he shifted.   

“You stopped being peacekeepers the moment you decided to lead an army,” Jason’s eyes were flat, “you’re weapons now.”

Obi-Wan felt something sharp and hot flare in the Force, his eyes drawn to Anakin.  His former padawan’s face was dark as he glared at Jason, Ahsoka’s concerned murmuring barely reining her Master in.  Obi-Wan sent reassurance out in the Force, Anakin relaxed slightly, face smoothing out. 

“You think your Senate sees you as anything else?  Trust me, they don’t.  You’re just as expendable to them as your clones,” Jason’s smile was grim, eyes bright as they swept through the room.    

Dread pooled in Obi-Wan’s stomach and the Force was silent.       

Chapter Text

Waxer pulled rank.  Well, he pulled rank on Boil and expertly, if he does say so himself, talked Cody around to allowing him to bring Jason and Roy to the barracks.  Not that it was truly difficult.  All the vode wanted to meet Jason and Roy, so much so Cody really couldn’t say otherwise, Marshall Commander or not.  Especially when Rex decided to chime in.  Waxer had eyed his blond vod, not trusting the look in his eyes as Cody agreed. 

Waxer realized it was a look a good chunk of the 501^st shared as he keyed open Jason and Roy’s door.  Two sets of eyes landed on him as Waxer removed his bucket, nodding in greeting.    

“We sneaking out again?” Roy shifted where he sat, green eyes glinting as red eyebrows waggled. 

“It’s the middle of the day,” Jason’s head popped out from the kitchenette, “there’s no sneaking in the middle of the day.”

Waxer couldn’t agree more.  If it were up to him, he’d never sneak around with either of them again.  Though nothing went wrong, as long as Waxer didn’t count the whole Senator Amidala interaction.  It was actually rather enjoyable for breaking and entering.  Definitely less stressful than any missions he has run so far.   

“Of course,” Roy nodded, somber, “are we going for a stroll?”

Waxer glared at the red-head, a smirk breaking out across Roy’s face.  He could hear Jason snort as the man fully came out of the kitchenette, stopping behind Roy. 

“I have permission to bring you to the clone’s training facility here in the Temple,” Waxer said, setting his shoulders.

“More training?” Jason cocked his head.

“I wouldn’t call what the 501^st want to do to you training,” Waxer couldn’t help but let a smile slip. 

Jason’s brow furrowed as he looked down at Roy whose head was tilted back with a grin. 

“You kinda beat up their sister,” Roy shared a smile with Waxer

“I’m sure Tano could beat them up,” Jason scoffed as he shoved Roy’s shoulder.  The red-head stood up and Waxer moved to the door.

Waxer privately agreed, Commander Tano could wipe the floor with the majority of his brothers.  Waxer led them out into the hall, the door sealing shut behind Jason.  He studied Jason’s dark head as they walked, Roy content to focus on everything in the Temple they were passing.  It was odd, how Jason didn’t seem concerned about the 501^st retaliating.  Almost like he couldn’t understand it.  Couldn’t understand how the clones might want to get a few hits in for that so called demonstration.          

“You don’t have any brothers, do you?” Waxer eyed Jason as they continued on their trek to the training level.  The elevators just ahead of them. 

Roy tripped over nothing.  Waxer’s arm shot out to steady him, concerned at the choking sound Roy was making.  Waxer hauled the red-head up, glancing over at Jason, a bit surprised he wasn’t helping or laughing at his friend.  The look on Jason’s face was not what Waxer was expecting.  A scowl would’ve been too soft a description.  It wasn’t a glare either.  It was a sort of wretched twistedness Waxer has never seen.  Not on a vod and never on a Jedi.     

“Jaybird has siblings,” Roy said, eyes steady on Jason.

“No, I don’t,” Jason bit out, “and what did I say about calling me that.”

“Legally, Jaybird has siblings,” Roy re-iterated and Waxer stepped ahead to the elevator panel, quickly punching the button.   

The door slid open and Waxer debated getting into the enclosed space with Jason and Roy at the moment.  Roy didn’t have a problem as he stepped in, arms crossed as he turned to face Waxer and Jason.  Waxer glanced to the side before stepping in, arm coming up to keep the door open.  Jason entered a moment later, the door sliding shut with a soft chime and Waxer wanted to be anywhere else. 

“Brothers can be tough,” Waxer tried to joke, “I do have two million.” 

Roy chuckled and Waxer couldn’t understand how the man wasn’t collapsing under Jason’s simmering anger.  The elevator continued to make its way down to the lower levels where the clones, when in Temple, were able to train.  Waxer didn’t make this trip often, but he was sure it had never taken this long.

“I doubt you’ve tried to kill yours,” Jason’s voice held nothing, “no matter how tough they can be.”

Waxer blinked, unsure if he heard right.  He chanced a look at Roy, who was staring past him at Jason, face inscrutable from his normally open features.  Waxer squared his shoulders and looked at Jason.  Jason who was staring straight ahead, eyes stripping the door of its durasteel with their intensity.  Legs braced apart and every muscle clenched, Jason had been more approachable with a weapon in hand on Vrogas Vas.  Waxer opened and shut his mouth, wondering where to even begin.      

“No,” Jason turned his head and looked straight at Waxer, voice flat, “they didn’t deserve it.”

Waxer could only give a sharp nod as the elevator came to a stop.  Relief hit him as the doors opened and the faces of Boil, Cody, and Rex came into view.  Waxer strode out ahead of Jason and Roy, turning as they stopped in front of his vode. 

“Jason, Roy,” Waxer said, “this is Captain Rex of the 501^st.”

“So, you’re big brother,” Jason stuck his hand out with a smile.  Waxer restrained himself from gaping, the tension and anger from the elevator gone as Rex clasped Jason’s wrist.   

“Commander Tano can handle herself,” Rex snorted as he turned to greet Roy.

“So we weren’t brought here for a fight masquerading as a training exercise,” Roy drawled as they all moved down the hall and away from the elevator. 

“Why can’t it be both?” Boil snickered as they approached the door to the barracks, Cody punching in the code. 

“We are responsible for their wellbeing while they are here,” Cody said as he led everyone through the door and into the training area. 

It was different from the Jedi training salles on the floors above.  A mixture of high tech obstacle courses, shooting ranges, and sparring mats.  Really anything the clones could need to occupy their time.  There was even a small track and free weights.  Waxer caught Jason and Roy’s appreciative looks as they made their way to the center of the mats.    

“Everyone’s wellbeing gets a bit roughed up, even in a spar,” Rex shrugged, a small smile on his face.  Boil knocked Waxer’s shoulder, armor clinking as Cody gave Rex an unimpressed look.    

“How ‘bout this,” Jason cracked his neck, “you win a match, you get to ask a question.”

Waxer perked up, surprised.  He could see his own intrigue echoed in his vode, although as usual Cody hid it far too well. 

“Are we just limiting this to sparring?” Cody crossed his arms, eyes intent.

“Nah, we can make it interesting,” Roy smiled as he nodded to the shooting range, “Jay and I are pretty good shots, whoever beats us there can ask a question too.”

“What do you want if you win?” Rex raised an eyebrow as he eyed Jason and Roy. 

“A favor,” Jason said as his eyes swept over the clones.   

“This doesn’t exactly seem like an equal give and take,” Boil shifted next to Waxer.  Waxer couldn’t agree more.

“What’s the favor?” Waxer asked, cutting off whatever Cody or Rex were about to say. 

“We need to go to the facility you were cloned in,” Jason exchanged a look and quick grin with Roy, “all sneaky like.”

“No,” Cody spoke sharply, Waxer immediately straightening at the tone.

“It’s for you and your brothers’ benefit,” Jason shrugged his shoulders, tipping his head.

“How?” Rex’s jaw was clenched. 

“Win a match,” Jason smiled as he moved to the center of the mats.  Rex prowled after him.

****

Jason was laying on his back, sweat dripping down his forehead and chest, hell, even his elbows.  Marshall Commander Cody was next to him and Jason could just make out the rise and fall of the clones chest.  He felt calm for once.  The kind of calm that only came after a long drawn out fight.  A fight that mollified every dark burning chasm in him.  Well, almost every empty hole in him.  The violent call for death was never satisfied and never would be.  It was difficult to swallow and more often than not it choked Jason. 

“That’s seven questions you guys get,” Roy’s voice announced from somewhere above Jason.   

Cody would get to ask four out of the seven, Rex two, and Waxer would get one.  Waxer had surprised Jason, he was an excellent marksman and narrowly beat Jason on the range.  Rex beat him out twice too.  The clone captain deeply pleased with himself until Jason got him on the sparring mat.  Of course, no one came close to Roy on the range.  Even without his bow, there were few who could match his friend.  The clones didn’t stand a chance, but their awe was a sight and Roy reveled in showing off.  But it was the moments after Roy won that his friend loved more.  The clones clamoring around as Roy gave out tips and tricks to practice, green eyes bright and smile wide.     

Jason turned his head on the mat, watching as Rex hauled Commander Cody to his feet.  Jason and Roy must have fought Cody ten times each.  Roy lost three times, tapping out with a smile each time.  Whatever was said between the archer and clone at the end of each bout made each of Roy’s next wins harder.  But the two had clasped wrists after the final spar and Jason had his own single loss against the clone commander to consider.  Jason rolled over, slapped his hands against the mat and pushed himself up on his feet. 

“It was a lucky hit,” Cody spoke lowly from beside Jason.

“Yeah, well,” Jason shrugged, “you always want luck on your side when you’re fighting.  It doesn’t make it any less of a victory.”     

“Roy gave me some pointers,” Cody’s chin dropped in admission. 

“I would have been shocked if he didn’t,” Jason snorted and shook his head as he eyed Roy.

“You guys want to confer on what questions to ask?” Roy looked between the gathered identical faces. 

Cody nodded as he ushered his brothers away and out of ear shot, hands flailing as a heated debate began between the clones.  Jason and Roy exchanged a look, both having already agreed on giving the clones as much information as possible while trying not to seem suspicious.  Suspicious of what, Jason didn’t really know, but nobody trusted information given freely.  Especially not during a war.  It had to appear earned. 

The clones returned quicker than Jason thought they would.  Jason was a little surprised they were going to have this conversation in the middle of the training room, but everyone seemed comfortable enough.  That is to say, not at all.  The clones were stiff, even Boil was serious where he was standing beside Waxer.  Jason shifted, nodding to Cody.

“Waxer and Boil informed us you retrieved encrypted data from the Senate building,” Cody levelled a look at the two clones, “what did you find out?”

“We’re still working through it, there’s a bit of a learning curve,” Roy began, “there’s your regular suspicious activity, money being funneled to accounts it shouldn’t be, secret meetings, people disappearing.  The real kicker is how much power your Supreme Chancellor has obtained.  He’s definitely benefiting from this war.”

“What?” Waxer’s confusion matched his brother’s.

“Yeah,” Roy snorted, “from what I can see, he’s had plenty of opportunities to treaty for peace but hasn’t taken them.  He sure spins it in his favor though.”

“One of our splicers is going to need to take a look at that,” Cody said and Roy gave a nod. 

The clones would understand it better anyways.  Jason would admit Roy’s skill with tech and mechanics was uncanny, but even he couldn’t learn an entirely new system in the matter of hours, no matter how helpful Waxer and Boil had been in the Senate.  It was a miracle they were able to find out what they did.  Roy’s brilliance pulled through though. 

“Why do you want to go to the cloning facility on Kamino?” Rex asked next, arms crossed as he looked at Jason.

“We think there is a possibility you could be controlled,” Roy said evenly, “against your will.”

“And if that’s the case,” Jason continued as he took in the dawning horror on the clones faces, “whatever might control you would have had to have been installed during the cloning process.”

Boil was clutching Waxer’s forearm, identical eyes wide as they stared at Jason and Roy.  Cody was standing alarmingly straight, hands behind his back and mouth tight.  But it was Rex who drew Jason’s attention, the blond clone shaking in mute revulsion.   

“They said they’re chips to control our aggression,” Rex hissed, dark eyes flashing.   

“Wait, you know there’s something in you?” Roy took a step forward, grabbing Rex’s shoulder. 

Rex nodded as Cody stepped forward, practically knocking Jason out of the way as he gripped Rex’s other shoulder.    

“Vod,” Cody’s voice was firm, steady even as his knuckles were white where he gripped Rex.  Jason watched as Rex took strength from his brother, breath evening out as his body stilled.

“Fives found something regarding Tup,” Rex began and Jason heard the clones inhale sharply.  Jason looked at Roy, they were missing information, but would make do. 

“There was something in Tup’s head, Fives found out it was a chip that got damaged,” Rex’s face was ashen, “he tried to tell me, to tell the General.  They killed him.”

“I take it any attempt at an investigation got squashed,” Jason sighed as Rex gave a jerky nod. 

Jason looked around, they needed to finish this conversation somewhere else.  He knew he could trust the clones with each other, they’d keep their own information between them.  But this wasn’t battle plans or idle gossip.  This would determine the fate of two million men. 

“How could you have come up with this, why would you even think something like this could happen?” Boil stared at Jason, mouth curled downwards.   

“Because something very similar happened to me,” Roy’s face was grim as the clone’s attention landed on the archer. 

Chapter Text

They were back camped out in Jason and Roy’s room, a jammer planted front and center on the small side table.  The room was crowded.  Crowded enough that Jason had made the executive decision to push the furniture back and sit on the floor, everyone following along.  Cody had called in two more commanders, Wolffe and Ponds, from Koon and Windu’s battalions and gave them a brief recap. 

“This feels like a meeting for a support group,” Roy chuckled from his seat next to Jason, “C.A., Clones Anonymous.”

“You said you experienced something like this before,” Cody was seated directly across from Jason, legs folded and back straight. 

“I’m a clone,” Roy gave the men around them a half smile, “but, unlike you all, I didn’t know I was.”

“What happened to your template?” Boil asked in the shocked silence. 

“You mean the original Roy Harper?” Roy cocked his head at Boil, the clone nodding, “he died.  The lab I was created in was destroyed and so was he.”

“So, you just took over his life?” Rex looked confused.

“Up until the moment I found out about him, I thought I was Roy Harper,” Roy worked his jaw, “it was my life, had been for years.” 

The clone’s attention was locked on Roy.  Waxer and Boil both leaning forward, elbows on their knees where they sat.  Jason leaned to the side, offering Roy what support he could.  The archer gave him a fleeting smile before turning back to his audience.      

“They implanted his memories in me,” Roy continued, fingers trailing along his forearm, “sure, I made new ones, but realizing everything from before was a lie, wasn’t mine.  I didn’t take it well.”

“Why did they only clone the original Roy Harper once?” Ponds asked, he seemed level headed, probably a good match for Windu.

“Cloning isn’t an exact science where we’re from, there’s a lot that can go wrong,” Roy leaned back on his hands, “but the goal wasn’t an army, it was infiltration.”

“Destruction from the inside,” Ponds mused, dark eyes connecting with Cody.

“It must not have worked though,” Rex gestured to Roy and Jason.

“The failure didn’t have anything to do with me,” Roy snorted, a mirthless chuckle escaping his lips, “I was the perfect puppet.”

Jason felt his friend shift, straighten as they continued to be scrutinized.  Identical golden brown eyes landed on Jason and Roy’s chuckle was a bit brighter.

“Don’t look at me, I wasn’t around at the time,” Jason shook his head and smirked. 

“If what you think is true,” Wolffe finally spoke, “it would mean we were created to betray the Jedi, betray the Republic.”

“Against your will,” Jason tacked on with a nod. 

“We need to tell the Generals,” Cody shifted to stand, but Jason held out a hand, stopping the commander.

“They already know,” Jason said and Cody seemed to almost collapse, “although, I don’t think they know about the chips in your heads, at least not yet.  They definitely suspect something though.”

“A Jedi called Shaak Ti is looking into it,” Roy helpfully added. 

“General Ti is on Kamino,” Cody glanced at his brothers, brow furrowed.

Well, that was good news.  Jason looked at Roy, the red-head’s eyes sharp as he ran through what they learned.  Maybe they wouldn’t have to go to Kamino after all.  They could just send what they knew and suspected, let the Jedi handle the rest on that front.  They would need to take a look at that chip though. 

“So, who’s up for major brain surgery?” Jason clapped his hands together as he looked around the circle. 

Silence met Jason’s question, brown eyes wide and faces grim.  Jason could see the resolve settle around the clones, their jaws set in determination.  They would save themselves, save their brothers and Jason and Roy would give them all the help they could.  It was the least they could do for these men who were dealt such a fucked up fate. 

“We’ll have to see if the chips are all linked together, like operating on the same frequency,” Roy explained, “if they are, we would just have to take out the main control.” 

“And if they’re not?” Waxer cleared his throat.

“Well, each one will have to be individually removed anyway,” Roy rubbed his forehead, “but, if any part of the chips has some circuitry, an EMP should be able to wipe ‘em out.”

“Right, brain surgery,” Rex grunted.  Jason and Roy nodded.  It was all hypothetical until an actual chip could be examined.   

“I’ll do it,” Boil spoke up, eyes snapping over to the clone as protests arose from his brothers.

“It has to be me,” Boil cut everyone off, “Sirs, you can’t be out of commission you’re too valuable, it would look too suspicious.”

“He’s right,” Jason agreed, “this has to be kept quiet, the Jedi know that too.  Anyone else finds out, you risk tipping off the fucker who did this to you.”

Hesitant nods of acceptance went around.  Waxer was clutching Boil’s arm, a fiercely protective look on his face.  Jason would make sure they stayed together during and after Boil’s surgery. 

“Kix can perform the surgery,” Cody looked at Rex, the captain nodding, “as soon as possible.”

 ****

Obi-Wan walked swiftly through the Temple halls, feet carrying him towards the room Jason and Roy were residing in.  He had tried to comm Cody, but his commander wasn’t answering.  An anomaly that had Obi-Wan concerned.  The Council had called for an emergency meeting, Shaak had reported in and the news she had given was nauseating.  Obi-Wan needed to find his commander, he needed to speak with his men. 

The door to Jason and Roy’s room softly slid open once Obi-Wan entered the code.  So deep in his thoughts, Obi-Wan barely managed to avoid stumbling over the very person he was looking for.  Cody and the clones snapped to attention once they realized who was in the room, brief greetings echoed in Obi-Wan’s ears.  Obi-Wan’s eyes trailed around the room, Jason and Roy having gained their feet at a much more leisurely pace than the clones.  Apprehension pulsed in the Force as Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at the assembly.    

“I must say I was not expecting such a crowd,” Obi-Wan drawled, looking at Jason and Roy, “you two are quite the popular pair.”

Roy smiled wide, green eyes bright as the Force moved restlessly around him.  Obi-Wan considered the red-head, they were up to something.  If it wasn’t obvious from the tension the clones were emitting, which it was, the motivated energy Roy exuded was enough to tip him off.  The Force hummed with anticipation, urging Obi-Wan to speak.  He listened.

“Master Ti has uncovered something I think you should be aware of,” Obi-Wan’s gaze fell on Cody.     

“Sir, if it’s about the control chips in our heads, we already know,” Cody spoke bluntly, face passive as his commander’s fear darkened the Force. 

Obi-Wan blinked, hands tucking themselves into his robe.  The Force churned with the emotions of the clones.  Fear, disgust, anger, and anxiety reigned supreme as Obi-Wan projected as much calm and support he could.  Boil shifted, face tight, anxious in a deeper way than the other clones.  The Force whispered.

“Alert Kix to meet us in the Halls of Healing,” Obi-Wan ordered as he pulled out his comm unit, “I will inform Master Che to prep for a discrete surgery.”

Relief crashed through the Force.  The tension the clones were carrying slowly crept out of their limbs and Obi-Wan withheld a sigh.  He wished he could reassure his men.  Tell them no more of their brothers would have to die.  That they would be free.  He couldn’t though, not until the mastermind behind this war, behind the control chips was found and brought to justice. 

“Commanders Wolffe and Ponds,” Obi-Wan turned, addressing the two clones, “please inform Plo and Mace where to find me.  We will need to debrief in the Halls of Healing.”

The commanders saluted, identical eyes resting on Boil before they left.  Obi-Wan felt a dark shot of self-loathing move through the Force.  He followed the bitter feeling back to Rex, the blond clone stood with his fists clenched. 

“Captain,” Obi-Wan met Rex’s grief-stricken eyes, “this does not fall on you.”

“Fives tried to tell me, he died trying to tell me,” Rex growled, “I failed.”

Obi-Wan watched as Cody grabbed Rex, crushing their chests together as foreheads touched.  Waxer and Boil’s palms landed on Rex’s shoulder not a moment later.  Love and a profound protectiveness filled the Force. 

“The only thing at fault is whatever did this to all of you,” Roy said, his own steady strength reaching out through the Force. 

Rex turned to look at the red-head, reaching out.  Without hesitation, Roy moved forward, one hand gripping Rex and the other landing on Cody’s shoulder.  Obi-Wan was overwhelmingly grateful for Roy Harper.            

“You know,” Rex wryly spoke after a moment, eyes landing on Jason, “we asked more than seven questions.”

Obi-Wan looked between the two men, confused as amusement brightened the Force.  Obi-Wan locked eyes with his commander and Cody minutely shook his head.  Whatever is was, he would find out later.     

“I guess you’re gonna owe us a big favor then,” Jason raised an eyebrow as Waxer groaned and Cody vehemently disagreed.  Oh, yes, Obi-Wan squinted, he most certainly would be finding out what bargain had been reached later. 

“Shall we proceed to the Halls of Healing?” Obi-Wan indicated to the door, the clones and Roy quickly moving to exit.   

Obi-Wan felt the air shift as Jason stopped next to him.  Alone with the dark-haired man, Obi-Wan realized just how formidable Jason was.  It hadn’t been quite so obvious before now.  Dangerous and intense, yes, but more enduring Obi-Wan was starting to realize.  Burdened.  The Force was still.   

“The Council would like to speak with you again,” Obi-Wan glanced up, bright eyes looked back as Jason tilted his head in assent.

“We can go after Boil’s surgery,” Jason proceeded Obi-Wan out the door, “Roy will want to be there for him.”

“They would like to speak with just you,” Obi-Wan emphasized and Jason paused, back facing the Jedi.

Obi-Wan reached out through the Force, trying to understand Jason.  The Force was clouded around the man, unsure and Obi-Wan couldn’t parse what Jason was feeling.  It was unnerving.  If the Force wasn’t so clear on the fact that Jason and Roy were here to help them, help the clones, Obi-Wan would think even the Force didn’t know what to make of Jason.  Which was absolutely ridiculous. 

Obi-Wan tilted his head, starring at Jason who hadn’t so much as twitched where he stopped.  He thought of what Master Yoda had showed them through the Living Force, the corrupted cracks that encompassed Jason.  It was obvious the Force knew exactly what to make of Jason and what made Jason.  Obi-Wan met those teal eyes as Jason looked over a broad shoulder and nodded, jaw set.  It was entirely possible the Force was protecting Jason.  Affirmation flowed through the Force.  Surprised and curious Obi-Wan watched as Jason continued down the hall.  Obi-Wan would need to meditate on this revelation later, but for now he would keep the knowledge between himself and the Force. 

Chapter Text

The operation went off without any complications.  This universe had some seriously impressive medical technology.  Jason was deeply considering swiping some bacta and bringing it back to their universe.  It couldn’t harm the space-time continuum that much.  Jason rolled his eyes at the scene from the doorway.  Boil was in recovery, Waxer and Roy sitting vigil by the clone’s bed.  Bacta might not be the only thing they bring back to their universe. 

Kenobi was behind him, waiting to escort Jason to the Council Chamber once again.  He’d been able to stall the conversation long enough to ensure nothing suspicious happened during the operation.  It was a concession Roy wouldn’t budge on and Jason couldn’t keep the smirk off his face as the Jedi withered under his friend.  It did help having Koon on their side.  The Jedi seemed the most willing to listen to Roy, supporting his friend’s decision.   

Time was up though.  Jason followed Kenobi out of the Halls of Healing and to the Council Chamber wishing he didn’t know what to expect.  He did though.  Jason knew exactly what this meeting was going to be about.  It didn’t matter though.  Jason and Kenobi didn’t make it to the Council Chamber.

The Temple shook as Jason followed Kenobi through the corridors.  Kenobi hesitated for a moment, head tilted before he dashed forward, Jason only a breath behind.  The Temple shook again, rumbled as they came upon a massive hanger.  The roaring fire barely drowned out the shouts and orders being hurled around.  Kenobi was on his comm and Jason leapt into action. 

He sprinted to the closest person he could see and hauled them to their feet.  They groaned and Jason could see the burnt patches on their flight suit.  Kenobi was there a moment later and Jason transferred the injured being’s weight to the Jedi.  He went back for the next person and the next.  Each time meeting Kenobi and trusting the man to get the injured to a safe location. 

Smoke swirled through the air even as droids worked to smother the fire.  Jason kept breathing, kept his mind empty of anything that wasn’t useful.  Didn’t think about the scorching heat or the collapsing hanger around him.  He just searched, he rescued, he moved forward.  Jason didn’t stop until Kenobi grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him back as a metal beam crashed down.  Jason glanced over his shoulder, Kenobi a blurry visage and Jason blinked, finally starting to feel the watery sting in his eyes. 

Medics, or Healers, were swarming behind Kenobi.  Kenobi who had turned Jason and still had his hands on Jason’s shoulders.  Jason blinked again and a wet cloth appeared in front of him.  Jason flinched as a hand came up, the wet cloth dangling between fingers.  Kenobi paused and Jason took a harsh breath, coughed as he tried to nod.  Kenobi wiped Jason’s eyes first, one hand still on his shoulder keeping him steady.  The relief was instant and Jason had to wonder if there was something else other than water soaking the cloth. 

“Thanks,” Jason croaked, cleared his throat only to cough again. 

Kenobi gave him a faint smile, blue eyes crinkled in question.  Jason didn’t have any idea what the question could be.  Then again, maybe Jason was the question himself.  For whatever reason.  Jason coughed again and Kenobi seemed to rise out of his thoughts, tugging Jason along as they moved past the bustling Healers.  Jason could make out Che in the group, the Jedi’s blue gaze landed on Jason, sharp eyes assessing him for a brief moment before turning back to her patient.  Jason would take that as a sigh off on a clean bill of health, smoke inhalation be damned.         

“The meeting with the Council will have to be postponed,” Kenobi murmured as he led Jason back through the corridors, Jedi brushing past them. 

“I figured,” Jason’s throat was hoarse and Kenobi looked at him, concerned.  Jason waved him off.  He’d be fine once he got a drink, or twenty. 

Kenobi opened the door to Jason and Roy’s apartment, the Jedi moving quickly into the kitchenette and soon Jason heard the kettle chirping away.  The only other sound in the room was the beep of Kenobi’s comm unit.  Jason gave the Jedi a look as he propped himself up against the counter.  Kenobi ignored him, but only set one ceramic cup down on the counter in front of Jason.

“You should clean up after you drink some tea,” Kenobi’s eyes traveled down Jason, “a droid will stop by with additional clothing.”

“No need,” Jason shook his head, “I’ve still got my own.”

Kenobi frowned and his comm beeped again.  Jason was tempted to flap his hands and shoo the Jedi out the door, he was clearly needed elsewhere.     

“Thank you,” Kenobi spoke softly, blue eyes filled with gratitude locked on Jason, “for all you did today.”

Jason nodded, not saying anything.  Kenobi smiled softly, turned on his heel and briskly walked out. 

****

Obi-Wan didn’t run to the Council Chamber, but it was a close thing.  The Force churned around him, filling Obi-Wan with trepidation.  An attack on the Temple was unprecedented.  Their sanctuary shattered.  Obi-Wan breathed, calmed his mind and racing heart as the elevator ascended to the Council Chamber.

The tension was high and faces grim as Obi-Wan stepped through the Chamber doors.  Master Che was a flickering translucent blue form in the center of the room, her voice sharp as she gave a brief overview of the situation.  Obi-Wan sat as Vokara ran through the various injured, Jedi, clones, and technicians.  As well as the deaths.  Mace thanked Vokara and with a bow the Head Healer’s holoform blinked out.

“Uncertain times, these are,” Master Yoda intoned, ears flat, “uncover the truth, we must.”

“An investigation is already underway,” Mace looked around the room, lips thin.

“And when the Senate involves itself?” Obi-Wan tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe.

“This is an internal matter,” Mace said, but Obi-Wan knew, just as much as the former Master of the Order did, it would not stay that way.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and sought the Force.  It roiled, uneasy and anticipatory as a clear thought formed in Ob-Wan’s mind.  This bombing was a precipice.  Whatever action the Jedi took would change the course of the Order.  It would influence the course of the war.  The Force cried in agreement, in warning.  Obi-Wan shivered.   

“At the hanger, you were, Master Kenobi,” Yoda’s voice startled Obi-Wan.

“Not immediately, but yes,” Obi-Wan nodded, “I was escorting Jason here when we felt the bombs go off.”

“Rushed to help, you did,” Yoda hummed and Obi-Wan tipped his chin in assent, eyes narrowed.

“Master Che informed us before your arrival that you and Jason were instrumental in rescuing the injured,” Mace bowed his head, grateful, “Vokara informed us the situation would have been much worse had you not been there.”

“It was Jason,” Obi-Wan stated as he made eye contact with Mace.

Obi-Wan did not want to think of how much worse the situation could have been had they not been there.  But, truly, it was Jason.  Obi-Wan opened himself up to the Force and let his feelings flow through it.  He could feel the heat of the explosions, the tremors through the hanger, the fear and chaos of the beings caught in the unknown.  But there on the edge was a pillar, solid and tall as it braced against the turmoil.  Obi-Wan had been first into the hanger, but Jason was the unwavering strength that burst into action. 

Obi-Wan had provided whatever assistance he could.  Immediate trust had flown from Jason, the kind only ever developed during disasters.  They each had a role, a mission, and for once Obi-Wan ceded the most dangerous part to another.  Though, it clearly hadn’t even crossed Jason’s mind not to be the one to run into a raging inferno.

“Brave, he is,” Yoda’s dark eyes were solemn. 

“He certainly has done it before,” Obi-Wan mused, “there was no hesitation, almost as if it was ingrained he’s done it so much.”

“They said Roy was part of some team that protected their planet,” Anakin’s brow was furrowed, “maybe Jason was too.”       

“Why wouldn’t they divulge that then?” Mace sighed.

“Jason is not very open about talking about himself,” Plo stated, mirth dancing in the Force as Mace gave the Kel Dor Master a withering look. 

“Hurt, he has been,” Yoda nodded, “meaningless, words are.”

Obi-Wan agreed with the Grandmaster’s assessment.  He couldn’t help but feel he had gained a measure of Jason’s trust today.  Trust that Obi-Wan would do the right thing in a time of need.  The Force warmed as if flowed around Obi-Wan, urging him towards understanding.  Obi-Wan’s lips pinched.  It wasn’t just that Jason entrusted the lives of others to Obi-Wan, he entrusted pieces of himself in the moment as well.  Jason had let Obi-Wan take care of him, however briefly.  The Force surged in triumph.

“You still think they can help?” Anakin’s face was shuttered.

“More so than they already have?” Mace arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with Obi-Wan’s former padawan. 

“What I mean is,” Anakin scowled, jaw clenched, “they’ve helped the clones, which is clearly what the Force wanted, why it brought them here, so, why are they still here?”

“Harper’s task has been brought to light,” Mace nodded in agreement, “but, we do not believe Jason was brought here for the same reason.  Which you would know, if you had joined us for our group meditation on the subject.”

Anakin bristled at Mace’s censure, the Force darkening with his temper.  Obi-Wan privately agreed with Mace but it would do no good to bring that up now. 

“He feels wrong,” Anakin sulked, arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair.     

“What does he feel like to you Knight Skywalker?” Plo asked, voice steady as Anakin shifted in thought.

“Dark,” Anakin finally settled on, blue eyes landing on Mace. 

“Come back from darkness, he has,” Yoda hummed nodding, eyes partially closed, “but leave us, darkness never does.”

Obi-Wan could feel Anakin’s irritation spike at the Grandmaster’s seemingly repetitive answer.  For all his gifts, Anakin’s judgement has always been clouded when it came to the Council.  It was difficult, Obi-Wan understood, to work through the mistrust and hurt feelings of Anakin’s first meeting with them.  Obi-Wan tried initially, tried over the years of Anakin’s apprenticeship but eventually he stopped in hopes of Anakin working through it himself.  That clearly hadn’t happened.  Instead, Anakin had found support from outside the Order.  In Senator Amidala and the Chancellor.    

“What is the real problem you have with him, Skywalker?” Mace leaned back, head tilted. 

“My problem?” Anakin exploded, jerking to his feet, “we have interdimensional travelers, which is unprecedented as far as I’m aware, and we just decide to trust them?  We don’t alert the Chancellor or the Senate?  They could be wanted criminals where they’re from for all we know!” 

“A matter of the Force, this is,” Yoda rumbled, “jurisdiction, with the Jedi, not the Senate.”

“Right, and how do you know this isn’t some Sith ploy?” Anakin snapped.

“Listen to the Force, we do,” Yoda glared, banging his walking stick on the side of his chair.

Obi-Wan was sorely tempted to grab Anakin and haul him back to his seat.  But, the man wasn’t his padawan anymore, his choices were his own.  No matter how idiotic they tended to be.

“Well, I am too,” Anakin growled, “and it’s telling me Jason is Dark.”

“We are not disput--,” Obi-Wan looked down as his comm beeped, as all of the Council Members comm’s beeped.  Obi-Wan quickly read the message, then read it again as the air seemed to leave the Council Chamber. 

“They have a suspect,” Obi-Wan’s mouth was dry, “it’s Ahsoka.”

Chapter Text

Jason’s eyes drifted open as he heard the apartment door chime and open.  He had drunk his tea and showered like Kenobi suggested, washing the grime and smoke from his body.  It had been a relief.  The couch had called to Jason, and with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, he had collapsed on it and drifted off.  A decision he was regretting at the moment. 

Eyes slits, Jason observed Roy and the clones who followed the archer into the room.  Commander Cody looked as stern as ever, but Rex was white as a sheet, mouth tense.  Waxer stood in the back, shifting on his feet.  Something happened.  Something big if it brought Waxer away from Boil’s bedside.

“What?” Jason didn’t fully open his eyes, the clones startling.  Well, everyone except for Cody. 

“You hear about the explosion?” Roy ushered Rex into the chair.

“Yup,” Jason sat up, “where do you think I was?”

Roy tipped his head in acknowledgement, eyes landing on where Rex sat.  Cody stood behind his blond brother.  Waxer finally entered the small living area, eyes firmly planted on Jason’s bare chest.  This was awkward and Jason had been is his fair share of awkward situations. 

“They have a suspect,” Roy continued, “Commander Cody was alerted when we were in the Halls of Healing.”

Jason raised an eyebrow as he stood, Roy’s flat look told him all he needed to know.  He would tread lightly.  Jason had his suspicions after all, Rex’s face told a story itself.  The clone’s body language added to it.  The suspect hit close to home. 

“The Senate is commanding Padawan Ahsoka Tano be brought in for questioning,” Cody’s voice was serious, tired.  Jason could make out the note of disbelief. 

“They think she is responsible for the bombing of the hanger,” Jason said, it wasn’t a question.  Cody nodded anyways. 

Jason caught Roy’s eye, the red head shifting, agitated.  They were in a delicate situation.  It was moronic to think Tano had anything to do with the bombing.  Jason had spent one sparring session with the Jedi and he could tell that.  The kid lived and breathed for her Order.  It showed in how she wanted to better herself.  It showed in Rex’s uncomprehending reaction. 

“The Senate wants to hold a trial,” Waxer quietly added.

“Isn’t it a Jedi matter?” Jason squinted, arms crossed, sharp gaze drifting to Cody.

“The General said the Senate thinks the Jedi won’t be impartial,” Cody sighed, placing a hand on Rex’s shoulder. 

“That’s fucking bullshit,” Jason huffed, anger welling up, but he wasn’t truly surprised.  Rex’s fists clenched, knuckles white.

“Can the Senate even do anything, legally?” Roy asked.

“Commander Tano would have to no longer be a member of the Jedi Order for the Senate to take legal action against her,” Cody recited with a frown, eyes steady on Roy. 

“Why do you know that?” Jason’s skin prickled.

“The Council has already decided to expel the Commander from the Order,” Rex choked out, voice hoarse.   

Suffocating silence descended on Jason.  He watched Roy’s mouth move in protest, the red-head’s hands gesticulating in aggravation.  Cody’s response was static in Jason’s ears.  Jason heard nothing.  He felt pinpricks dance along his fingertips, his palms, across his cheeks.  Searing heat followed by cold nothingness.  Jason’s temples pounded as his heart hammered away in his chest.  Jason’s gaze drifted from Rex to Cody to Waxer.  Waxer who was staring back at Jason with a slack jaw and wide eyes.  The clone’s mouth moved, but Jason heard nothing.  Out of the corner of his eye, Jason watched Roy pivot towards him.

The quiet started to recede.  Jason heard his own breathing first, forceful and sharp.  Jason felt it then, the acidic rage bubbling through his veins.  Hissing and spitting as it clawed at his mind.  A snarl was the next thing that broke the silence.  Jason’s throat protested the deep guttural sound.  Red filled his vision a moment later, blocking out Waxer. 

Jason followed a strand of red where it fell into Roy’s urgent green eyes.  The freckles on the archer’s cheeks moved as Roy spoke soothingly.  Jason only able to make out the tone, not the words.  A hand came up and Jason tensed, lip curled.  Roy didn’t move his hand as it hovered over Jason’s shoulder, just kept talking. 

What felt like a lifetime later, Roy’s palm landed on Jason’s shoulder.  Jason almost lunged for Roy’s throat, jerking back instead, overcompensating as his anger churned.  The palm squeezed, steadying.  Squeezed and released.  Squeezed and released.  Jason followed the rhythm with his breath.  The heaving movements of his chest slowing. 

Roy stepped closer and Jason’s gaze slipped over his friend’s shoulder.  Cody and Rex had moved to stand beside Waxer, all three clones ready to leap to the defense.  Jason snorted with a choked laugh and cruel smile.  Roy’s palm clenched on the meat of Jason’s shoulder. 

“You with me?” Roy’s voice broke through, emotionless. 

The archer had learned to never give Jason an opening when he was like this.  If he did, Jason would shred it open, rip out every ounce of decency his friend had ever shown him.  Use every good memory they had against him.  Tear and tear until they were both bloodied and broken.  Until everything Jason was, everything he valued, was submerged in the boiling depths of madness.  After all, destruction was the only acceptable outcome when the Pit called.                       

“Not really,” Jason gritted out, arms dropping as his fists rhythmically clenched.

“Well, you’re verbal, so, I’d say we’re getting there,” Roy gave a small smile, eyes intent on Jason’s face.

Jason breathed.  He focused on Roy, on the warmth of the archer’s hand on his bare shoulder.  Jason slowly became aware of his own skin again.  The cold sweat leaving small rivulets along his flushed body.  Jason finally remembered he was practically naked as a shudder racked through him.  He was going to need to shower again.

“Where’s Tano now?” Jason took a deep breath and held it until his veins burned. 

“Why?” Rex spoke, low with warning.  Gone was the emotionally untethered clone, the Captain was back. 

“She’s probably going to do something stupid,” Jason sneered and Roy’s arm braced against Jason’s bare chest, warm and restricting.  The clones looked confused, suspicious, Rex shaking his head in denial.  Jason’s fingers curled and uncurled. 

“The people who raised Tano just turned their backs on her,” Jason seethed through clenched teeth, “cast her out of the only home she’s ever known, the place she feels safest.  You think she’s just going to accept that?”

Jason watched realization dawn on the clones faces, Rex’s shoulders slumping as he cursed. 

“It wasn’t her,” Rex swore, “the Council has to know that, Ahsoka has to know we don’t think that she could have done this.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the blond clone.  Tano was a kid.  All the training in the world wasn’t going to make up for that.  Everyone else’s thoughts meant nothing at a time like this.  Jason scoffed, muscles twitching.  Tano wouldn’t know shit.  She would only have what the Council told her and would take that as the truth.  It didn’t matter what anyone thought.  It only mattered what they did, said, how they treated her. 

“The only thing Tano knows right now is that she’s alone, abandoned,” Jason growled, shrugging Roy’s hold off, “she’s going to do everything she can to prove herself or find someone who believes in her.”

Jason bit back everything else that wanted to come spewing out.  He held it in as he held Rex’s golden gaze for a moment before he turned his back, heading to the shower once again.  Jason held back the memories, the experiences.  The bitter hatred and disappointment.  The loss.  Jason knew exactly what Tano was going to do.  He’d be dead and in the ground again before he let her do any of it alone.

****

“His eyes are glowing green,” Waxer uttered a moment after the door swished shut behind Jason. 

“Yeah and if that ever happens when I’m not around,” Roy looked Waxer and his brother’s dead in the eye, “sit down, shut up, and act like you’re not a threat.”

“What was that?” Cody’s eyes, identical to Waxer’s own, were fiercer than anything Waxer had ever seen.  As fierce as the stories of ancient Mandalore.  Mandokarla burning bright.    

“That would be the remnants of the Lazarus Pit,” Roy said, jaw tight. 

“Is that supposed to mean something?” Rex was agitated and Waxer wished he could provide some support, but he wasn’t exactly calm either.    

Roy’s head dropped, a palm rubbing across his face.  Roy looked older, weary as his red hair fell across his eyes.  Waxer wanted to ask how often this happened.  How often Roy have to put himself between Jason and something else.  Waxer wondered if he ever failed. 

“No,” Roy sighed, looking back up, “it doesn’t mean anything here.” 

Waxer ground his teeth at the non-answer.  He exchanged a look with his vod, both of them clearly unhappy as well.  Waxer hated seeing the cold, stoic mask Cody currently wore.  The Marshal Commander.  Rex wasn’t any better.  Gone was the stunned friend of Commander Tano, the Captain who was allowed to train with the CC’s was back.  Both of their gazes were fixed on Roy. 

“We’re going to need more than that,” Rex crossed his arms, eyes flat.

“Not my story to tell,” Roy immediately rebuffed. 

“He is dangerous,” Cody growled, stepping into Roy’s space.

“You already knew that,” Roy raised an eye, unimpressed and unintimidated. 

“He is dangerous to us, to the vode, my General,” Cody’s jaw was clenched, shoulders tight. 

Waxer’s eyes flickered between his vod and Roy.  The tension growing as Roy didn’t deny Cody’s statement.  Roy’s green eyes, regular, soft green eyes roved Cody’s face looking for a crack Waxer knew he wouldn’t find.  Not about this.  None of the vode had any weaknesses when it came to each other and their Jedi.  It was war, they couldn’t afford it.  Roy must have realized this as the red-head let out a deep sigh, rocking back on his heels as he looked over his shoulder.  Waxer followed his gaze to the closed door of the fresher and the sound of the shower turning off. 

“Feel free to ask,” Roy spoke after a beat, dropping back down to sprawl on the couch.

The fresher door slid open a moment later and Jason stepped out, skin flush and once again clothed in only a towel.  Waxer caught Jason’s eyes as they swept the room.  Eyes that were no longer seething with green rage.  Cody and Rex shifted towards Jason and Waxer felt his mouth open before his brothers could even take a breath. 

“Did they try to kill you back?” Waxer’s face felt tight as he stared at Jason’s torso, “your brothers?”

Waxer flushed as Cody and Rex’s heads whipped around to stare at him, confused and alarmed.  Waxer stood firm and couldn’t believe that just came out of his mouth.  He didn’t blame Cody and Rex for looks they were giving him.  But Waxer couldn’t help it.  It was the question Waxer wanted to ask since he beat Jason on the practice range.  Not that his vod knew that.  They hadn’t been stuck in an awkward elevator ride.  Waxer dropped his chin.  He was going to get pummeled for this later.       

“Nah,” Jason blinked then snorted, shaking his head, “they don’t kill.”

Jason disappeared into the bedroom and Waxer slowly turned his head, meeting Cody’s stare. 

“What?” Waxer could hear the defensiveness in his voice, “it was just a question from another conversation.”

“That really wasn’t helpful,” Roy chuckled from the couch, elbows on his knees and face cradled in his palms. 

Waxer knew that.  He knew it the second the question came out of his mouth.  Waxer hadn’t wanted to ask it.  Well, he did, that was the problem.  Waxer looked back at the bedroom door, willing Jason to come out again.  As if he heard, the door opened and Jason stepped out a moment later; barefoot but almost fully clad in what they had found him in on Vrogas Vas, boots and red helmet in hand.    

Chapter Text

The room was tense as Waxer watched Jason sit down next to Roy, heavy boots making a dull sound as they dropped to the floor.  The helmet was placed on the arm of the couch.  Waxer felt his mouth open again, his thoughts freezing as he caught Cody’s eye.  With an audible clack, Waxer shut his mouth, wrists locking behind his back. 

“We all doing alright?” Jason drawled as he unlaced his boots.

Waxer could only stare at the bent dark head.  Nothing was alright.  Rex sighed and Waxer jolted as his brother shook his head, eyebrows raised. 

“What just happened and what is a Lazarus Pit?” Rex crossed his arms, dark gaze on Jason. 

“I took a shower,” Jason smiled, “is that not something you do, Captain Rex?  Granted, it was a second one.”

Waxer’s eyes bulged as Roy groaned beside Jason, green eyes rolling.  Rex made an abortive move towards Jason, stopped only by Cody grabbing his shoulder.  Waxer watched as Jason barely glanced up, a sharp grin on his face.  Jason’s fingers were a little too clenched around the laces of his boots.  His shoulders tight, Waxer noted, body perfectly balanced and primed.      

“You are not getting anywhere near the Commander until you answer the question,” Rex snapped, fists clenched, “and even then, you might not.”

“What makes you think you could stop me?” Jason stood up with a slow smile, boots laced.   

Individually, they couldn’t.  Waxer couldn’t.  Rex couldn’t.  Maybe Cody, but Waxer doubted it.  Together though, Waxer would always bet on his vode.  Waxer’s gaze snapped to Roy, if it was just Jason they’d be dealing with.  Roy shifted where he sat, shoulders loose, eyes flat.  It wasn’t just Jason they were dealing with.    

“We can’t,” Waxer sighed as he stepped forward next to Rex, “and you’ve already done enough.  More than enough.”

Waxer held steady as he met Jason’s eyes.  Sincere and willing to support Jason and Roy even if Rex and Cody disagreed.  Jason was dangerous.  Roy was dangerous.  But not to the Jedi, not to the vode.  Waxer knew that much and he was willing to put a little trust in the Force.    

“It’s a mystical lake that has healing and regenerative properties,” Jason spoke, mouth tight as he added, “the Lazarus Pit.”   

Waxer’s eyes couldn’t help drop to Jason’s chest again.  Jason sighed, his chest expanding behind the red symbol. 

“It healed you, your scars,” Waxer studied Jason, one hand indicating to the man’s chest, “wounds like that would have killed you.”

Jason’s mouth twisted as a series of complex emotions ranged across his face, eyes sparking green for a moment.  Cody and Rex twitched next to Waxer at the sight.  Jason’s hand came up to trace the red symbol splashed across his chest.  Its red tips reaching out as far as the branched scars on Jason’s chest.     

“I only have one scar from before I took a dip in the Pit,” Jason’s hand fell away.

Waxer’s breath stuttered.  All those scars, except one, were from after Jason was healed.  Waxer wasn’t sure he wanted to know what Jason looked like before.      

“So, it wipes you clean of injuries,” Cody cocked his head, brows furrowed as Jason shrugged his shoulders with a slight nod.    

“Wouldn’t mind having something like that,” Rex spoke up, voice lighter than it had been all day.

“You might not like the side effects,” Roy hummed from his place on the couch, eyes trained on Jason. 

Waxer and his brothers exchanged a look.  They must have just witnessed a side effect.  Waxer suppressed a shudder at the thought of having to live every day and fight with the possibility of experiencing that.    

“It takes more than it gives,” Jason’s voice was low, harsh as he picked up the red helmet. 

****

Jason’s nerves felt raw, his skin stretched and corroded.  He breathed and shoved down the bubbling venom coursing through his body.  Jason was ready for the conversation to be over.  Needed this conversation to be over.  He had a Jedi to find and the more time wasted here the greater opportunity Tano had to do something stupid. Jason studied Waxer, Rex, and Cody as they stared silently at him.  They seemed reluctantly satisfied, if uncomfortable, with the information he disclosed.  It would have to do, it was all they were getting.  Jason wasn’t about to just rattle off his life story.  Not like they did with Roy.  Jason’s experiences had nothing to do with what was happening with the clones.  Or the Sith for that matter.  They didn’t need to know.  They weren’t going to know.  Jason’s head throbbed.         

“Stay with Boil,” Jason turned and clapped Roy on the shoulder, “see what you can find out about that chip.”

Green eyes searched Jason’s face.  Satisfied with whatever he found, Roy nodded and Jason turned back to the clones.  He was ready to go, time was getting away from them.

“You know that favor you all owe us,” Jason smirked, “I’m cashing in my half.”

Jason watched as Waxer shifted, unsure as he looked at Commander Cody.  Jason followed the younger clone’s gaze, the Marshal Commander already looking at him, face drawn and hard.  Jason huffed and rolled his eyes.  Petty annoyance the only thing he allowed himself to show. 

It always happened this way.  Jason wasn’t surprised anymore by people’s reactions to one of his Lazarus Pit induced episodes.  If he was honest, he hadn’t ever been surprised by people’s reactions.  The self-loathing and disappointment was always an unwanted response though.  Jason hated it.  He hated the insidious self-destructive feelings that came from dealing with other’s reactions.  Reactions which were always based in fear and distrust.  Jason doesn’t know why he expected something different each time.  Why he hoped for something different each time.   

“We’re not bringing you to Kamino,” Cody said.

“Thankfully, that’s not necessary anymore,” Jason sniped, eyes narrowed.

“Then what?” Cody jaw was tight, eyes sharp and untrusting. 

“I want the rest of my stuff,” Jason arched an eyebrow, gesturing to his armor and its general air of emptiness.  

“We’re not giving you your weapons,” Cody shook his head, but Jason caught Rex’s hesitation. 

“I don’t like it either vod,” Rex said, eyeing Jason, “but he can go where we can’t.”

“And he’s going to go no matter what,” Waxer added with a shrug. 

“He’s standing right here,” Jason rolled his eyes, “but Waxer and Rex are right.”

Commander Cody frowned, the scar pulling tight across his face and Jason didn’t envy the position the clone was in.  But he couldn’t have the Marshal Commander in his way, they needed to be on the same side.  He needed the man’s help.  Jason worked his jaw, relaxed his shoulders and stance.

“I won’t let anything happen to Tano,” Jason’s voice was grave, wet, “I know what it’s like to lose your family’s trust over something you didn’t do.  I know how badly it can end.  I don’t want that for Tano.”

Jason cleared his throat, gaze stuck on Cody.  The Marshal Commander studied him and Jason waited, impatience welling, but he waited.  Cody nodded after a moment, dropping Jason’s gaze as he turned to his brothers, brief orders were given to Rex and Waxer.  Jason glanced back at Roy, the archer had a small yet proud smile on his face.  Jason scowled. 

“Let’s go,” Cody’s voice brought Jason back around.

The door slid open and Jason came face to mask with Plo Koon.  Jason felt Cody snap to attention behind him, Rex and Waxer following suit.  The silence echoed as no one moved to speak, the skin around Koon’s goggles bunching as he looked at Jason. 

“It is heartening to feel such darkness has lifted and that all are well,” Koon’s deep voice was soft, placid as the Jedi continued to study Jason. 

Jason’s eyes widened a fraction, breath stalling as the Jedi’s words registered.  Dread crept along Jason’s spine as neither of them moved. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jason bit out, the denial sharp as his heart hammered.

Koon didn’t respond, didn’t do anything except continue to watch Jason.  Jason felt Cody shift behind him, the clone commander clearing his throat. 

“Can I help you with something General Koon?” Cody’s voice was pitch perfect in its subordination.  Koon’s gaze momentarily left Jason, sliding back behind him to Cody. 

“No Commander, everything seems to be in order,” Jason would swear he heard a hint of amusement in Koon’s low voice, “although I can’t say the same for our collections and detainment room, things never seem to be in order there.” 

Jason blinked as the skin around Koon’s mask crinkled.  The Jedi bowed a moment later, the clones uttering farewells. 

“That is as much of a blessing as we are going to get,” Cody spoke from behind, ushering Jason fully out the door. 

“They’re not just going to hand my guns over to you,” Jason glanced at Cody as they quickly made their way down the hall, in the opposite direction Koon went.

“No,” Cody grimaced, “but if the General is to be believed, they won’t notice the weapons are missing.”

Jason nodded.  That was good enough for him.  Jason followed Cody swiftly through the Temple halls, making good time as they came upon collections and detainment area.  Cody pulled up a holo layout of the Jedi Temple, focusing in on their location.  There were two Temple Guards stationed outside the doors and only one way in.  Jason looked up, scanning the walls.  He smirked, only one way in if you weren’t a Bat or Bird at some point.

Jason nudged Cody, nodding towards the vent in the ceiling.  The clone commander grimaced and the holo layout changed, lines lighting up to show the vast ventilation system of the Jedi Temple.  Warm brown eyes and a raised eyebrow met Jason’s gaze and his smirk stretched into a grin.  Jason squatted down, looked back at Cody and patted his shoulders.  Cody blinked and slowly exhaled.  He climbed on Jason’s shoulders a moment later, Jason straightening as Cody started working on the vents grate.  The metal of the grate squeaked as Cody hauled himself up off Jason’s shoulders and through.  He could hear Cody shuffle around before the clone commander’s head popped back through the opening, arms reaching towards Jason.  Jason jumped, locking arms with Cody as the clone dragged him up and through the grate with a repressed grunt.  It was a tight fit, but Jason managed to wiggle around and latch the grate.

The soft blue glow of the holo illuminated the vent and Jason followed Cody as the clone began shuffling through the system.  Thankfully, they had already been close enough to their destination and didn’t have to crawl for long.  Cody stopped, looking back at Jason and then down towards another grate.  Jason nodded.  He would trust Cody to know where the best drop-in location was.  After all, the Marshal Commander had way more on the line than Jason did.  Cody dropped down first, Jason following as soon as he received a quiet all-clear.  The room was sterile, colorless except for all the shining chrome paneled shelving. 

“Alright, how’s all this shit catalogued?” Jason’s head swiveled as he looked down the numerous rows.

Cody tilted his head and walked to the end of one of the rows.  Jason followed and saw some sort of security panel built into the end of the row.  Cody flipped a few switches and it came to life with a massive listed read out.  Jason groaned and Cody shot him an irritated glare. 

“Got it,” Cody murmured a moment later and shut down the panel.

Jason followed keeping alert as they made their way deeper into the shelves.  The turns were too many and the rows all the same.  Jason thanked his excellent sense of direction and training because without there would be no getting out.  Cody finally stopped and pressed his palm to the flat metal surface of the row.  A soft hiss sounded and a large drawer opened.  A smile spread across Jason’s face as he looked down at the drawer’s contents.  His guns, holsters, knives, grappling gun, smoke pellets, and other various weapons were settled innocuously at the bottom.  The low hiss sounded again and Jason looked to the side, Cody had opened another drawer.  The clone reached in and Jason silently chuckled as he brought up Roy’s bow and quiver.      

“Bring those back to Roy, would you,” Jason’s tone was low as Cody nodded with acceptance. 

Jason started strapping everything back in place, weapons slipping into pockets and formerly empty straps.  His thigh holsters were last and as Jason picked them up something clunked against the bottom of the containment drawer. 

“You use slug throwers?” Jason cocked his head at Cody’s question.  The commander’s dark eyes lifting from Jason’s holsters to his face with an arched brow. 

“Slug is a bit of an old fashioned term,” Jason huffed at the bizarre name but nodded, ignoring Cody’s scrutinizing look.     

Jason resituated his guns and holsters before he reached back into the drawer.  His eyes widened as he pulled out the last object.  Something that was definitely not his.  It was long and cylindrical, heavy but well balanced in his grip.  Jason had seen it alight once before.  Jason turned to Cody, hip checking the drawer closed, his hands full.  Cody’s eyes narrowed as they flew from Jason’s hands to his face.  Jason couldn’t help but let loose a broad, brutal smile as he clipped Darth Maul’s lightsaber to his utility belt. 

Chapter Text

Waxer was silent by Boil’s bedside.  His vod unconscious to the troubles of the galaxy and Waxer envied him.  One of those troubles was perched across from Waxer, head tipped back, face relaxed.  Waxer couldn’t understand how Roy projected such a picture of calm.  The man had been hurled into another universe, dropped into the middle of a galactic war with absolutely no knowledge of anything and yet, Waxer grimaced, and yet Roy seemed to be more in control and understanding of the current situation than any members of the GAR.  Waxer would eat his bucket for an ounce of that calm certainty.  Waxer startled at the sound of the door, Roy’s green eyes flickering open as Cody marched in.  His vod had something slung across his back and Waxer’s gaze snapped back to Roy as the red head bolted upright, a wide grin on his face.    

“Oh, man,” Roy exclaimed, hands stretched out towards Cody, fingers flexing, “you didn’t.”

Waxer watched, a grin slipping across his face as Cody barely contained his exasperation.  Cody shrugged his shoulder and Waxer finally recognized what his vod was carrying. 

“Got everything he needed then?” relief coursed through Waxer, one obstacle down. 

“And something he didn’t,” Cody frowned, eyes flashing with uncertainty. 

Waxer frowned in return, eyeing his vod.  Cody shifted where he stood, dark eyes darting over to Roy.  The man was back in his chair beside Boil’s bed, fingers and eyes examining every piece of his weapon. Roy’s attention did not waver, he looked completely absorbed in his task even though he was clearly listening.

“What did Jay pick up?” Roy’s eyes flickered up for a moment.

“Mauls’ lightsaber,” Cody studied the red head. 

Waxer was watching Roy closely too; it was practically required of anything that held Cody’s attention that much.  Still, the sharp bark of laughter was startling. 

“Heh,” Roy wiped an eye, “sorry about that, it’s just so Jason.”

Waxer exchanged a look with Cody, his vod’s eye twitching as his lips pinched and curled ever so slightly.  Waxer barely repressed a shudder, Cody was irritated.  Not that Roy seemed to care, the lunatic.

“Any word from General Ti or the Council on the chips?” Waxer promptly diverted Cody’s attention away from the red head. 

“Nothing yet,” Cody sighed at the other irritation. 

None of the Vode liked waiting.  It was especially torturous when it directly affected them.   Waxer’s jaw clenched, and let his gaze settling back on Boil.  Soft golden-brown eyes were hazily staring back at him. 

“Hey vod,” Boil croaked with a soft smile, “it’s a bit hard to get rest ‘round here with all the brooding.”

“Please, you could sleep through an air raid,” Waxer snorted as he reached a hand out, grasping Boil’s upturned one on the blanket.     

A light grin slipped across Boil’s face, his brother shifting on the bed.  Waxer moved to help him sit up. 

“How you feeling vod?” Cody asked quietly, perfectly aware of how sensitive Boil’s head must be feeling. 

“Ready to get back to duty, sir,” Boil gave a sharp nod, and Waxer had to smirk at the immediate grimace that followed. 

“You just had brain surgery, vod, you can give it some time,” Cody arched an eyebrow and Boil grumbled. 

“You guys are adorable,” Roy’s voice brought Waxer’s and his brothers head around.  A smile pulled at his freckled cheeks as warm green eyes checked Boil over.

“We should call for Master Che,” Cody spoke after a moment, pressing a button on the medical panel next to Boil’s bed.  It blinked quietly in the sterile room.

The wait wasn’t long, not that Waxer thought it would be.  There was far too much at stake.  Master Che and Kix were efficient as they checked over Boil, all but shoving Waxer, Cody, and Roy out of the room.  The healer and medic were pleased with Boil’s progress and Waxer felt relief course through him.  A hand clamped on his shoulder and Waxer looked back into Roy’s smiling eyes. 

“Any word yet on the chip, Master Che?” Cody met the healer in the doorway. 

“I have not heard anything,” the Twi’lek Master hedged, “but I would not be surprised if something happens later today.”

Waxer exchanged a look with Cody as the Jedi Master bowed out of the room.  Kix was still fussing over Boil, checking and re-checking vitals and reflexes, not matter how many attempts Boil made at batting their brother away.

“So, do I get an update?” Boil huffed as he finally gave up fighting Kix, “where’s Jason?”

Kix paused and Waxer watched the medic and Cody exchange a look before getting one of his own.   Roy shifted in Waxer’s peripheral, attention on Cody.

“I dropped Jason off at the Senate Dome,” Cody stated, face impassive. 

****

Jason made his way through the halls of the Senate quickly, strides purposeful.  It was late, but not late enough that there weren’t a few overworked stragglers hustling about.  They largely ignored Jason, too intent on getting their work done to notice the cloaked man with a veritable arsenal strapped to him.  The cloak was a last-minute addition Jason was glad Cody thought of.  The clone commander had stopped at a rather barren room and came out with the draping brown fabric, tossing it to Jason.  At Jason’s raised eyebrow, the clone had just shrugged with a flickering smirk.  The robe helped.  Not that Jason thought he gave off the air of a Jedi, especially with the Pit simmering so close to the surface.  Still, it conveniently made him dismissible. 

When Jason finally reached his destination, he paused, head cocking to the side as he listened with his ear pressed against the door.  He could just make out the voices inside, harsh sounds that tried to be whispers.  Jason grinned as he moved to the door’s panel, prying it open to override the system.  The door slid open with a soft beep and Jason replaced the panel, quickly striding through the door.  Two furious faces greeted him.        

“Evening,” Jason smiled as he gave an exaggerated bow, eyes lingering on Senator Amidala.

“What are you doing here? Where did you get that robe?” Skywalker’s face couldn’t seem to decide between being outraged and curiosity.  Outraged at Jason’s general presence, life, existence, or any of the above.

“Sleeves are a bit short,” Jason flapped his arms, “I’m guessing it’s Kenobi’s.”

Jason smirked as he caught Amidala’s eye, winking at the Senator.  Skywalker’s face burned red as he stepped in front of Amidala, squaring up against Jason.  Jason cocked his head and shrugged out of the robe, letting it drop to the ground.  Skywalker’s eye twitched. 

“Why do you have a lightsaber?” Amidala’s voice cut through the room.

Jason kept his hands relaxed, down by his side as Skywalker’s twitched to his hip and lightsaber.  Amidala’s hand snapped out, grasping Skywalker’s wrist and pulling the man back. 

“It was with my stuff,” Jason shrugged, “must mean it’s mine.”

“That’s Maul’s lightsaber,” Skywalker gritted out.

“Is it?” Jason let a grin stretch over his face, “well, red is definitely my color.”

Skywalker’s chest expanded as he took a breath.  Jason rolled his shoulders.  His blood simmered in his veins.  His soul shifted with the All-Blades.

“What can we help you with, Jason?” Amidala cut in, stepping around Skywalker and up to Jason.

“I’m here about Tano,” Jason looked down into dark, empathetic eyes, “I can help her, I can help you help her.”

Amidala kept her eyes pinned on Jason even as Skywalker blustered behind her.  Jason kept his stance open, honest even as his skin itched to look away from the raw, unwavering compassion in Amidala’s gaze.      

“Call me Padmé,” Amidala – Padmé smiled as Skywalker sputtered, “we will take all the help we can get.”

Jason nodded and moved further into the room, Padmé stepping back and into Skywalker’s arms.  Jason watched as the Jedi’s hands came up and clasped the Senator’s biceps.  He met Skywalker’s sharp blue stare with a flat look, unimpressed with the show.  Amidala seemed to agree with Jason as she snapped herself out of Skywalker’s grasp.  A look over her shoulder and Jason smirked as Skywalker’s face fell, the Jedi stepping back to give the Senator space.  She moved to sit, Jason followed suit, settling comfortably into a chair.  Skywalker stood for a moment before Padmé pointedly looked at the spot next to her.

“We need to find the person truly responsible for the bombing,” Padmé looked between Jason and Skywalker, “I will be her representation during the trial, but without the real culprit, it doesn’t look promising.”

Jason nodded, none of this was a surprise.  Skywalker didn’t look too thrilled about it though.  Jason watched him as he sat next to Amidala as she mapped out her defense of Tano.  The Jedi’s fist was rhythmically clenching and only stopped once Padmé laid her own hand over his. 

“I’ll find who framed Ahsoka,” Skywalker said, “they’ll testify whether they like it or not.”

Jason withheld a sigh.  Bullheadedness would only get someone so far, which Jason knew was rich coming from him.  Still, Jason knew the look in Skywalker’s eye, he would find the bomber.  Jason just hoped he would be able to restrain himself when he did.  It was a slippery slope and Jason would comfortably bet his second life that Skywalker was already on the way to the bottom.   Very, very close to the bottom.

“What I don’t understand,” Skywalker glared at Jason, “is how you think you can help.”

“I need to be in that room with you, when the trial is happening,” Jason ignored Skywalker and focused on Amidala.

“Why?” Padmé tilted her head, deep brown eyes steady on Jason.

“The All-Blades,” Jason’s eyes flickered between Padmé and Skywalker, “they only manifest in the presence of evil.”

****

Obi-Wan turned a corner in the Temple, strides purposeful as he made his way to the Halls of Healing.  He paused for a moment, looking over his shoulder as Plo came up beside him, steady and calm in the Force.  Obi-Wan reached for a measure of that calm.  Plo provided reassurance as Obi-Wan realized he couldn’t grasp it.   

“Are you alright, Master Kenobi?” Plo steadily walked beside him.

“I imagine about the same as you Master Koon,” Obi-Wan breathed. 

They reached Boil’s room minutes later to the sound of low voices.  Obi-Wan opened the door, Plo preceding him into the room.  Cody, Kix, Waxer, Boil, and Roy all looked over, the clones snapping to attention as soon as they saw Obi-Wan and Plo.        

“Generals,” identical voices echoed through the room.

“You have news,” Cody looked at Obi-Wan, face haggard.   

Obi-Wan nodded and tucked his hands into his sleeves.  The urge to reach out and clasp Cody’s shoulder was almost overwhelming.  What he and Plo were about to show the clones would have galactic consequences. 

“We cracked the chips,” Obi-Wan slipped the data pad out of a pocket and handed it to Cody.

Cody took the pad and Obi-Wan watched as his brothers gathered around him, Kix pushing the Marshal Commander to sit on Boil’s bed, so they all could read.  Roy stood off to the side, but Obi-Wan could feel the man’s steady support through the Force.  It helped bolster Obi-Wan even though it wasn’t directed at him.        

Obi-Wan saw it and felt it, the moment the clones came to Order 66.  The slowly growing horror, the disgust, the burning hatred hit its crescendo and Obi-Wan stepped forward, grabbing Cody’s shoulders.  The data pad dropped to the bed, Obi-Wan barely registered Roy picking it up.     

“It’s not you, it wouldn’t be you,” Obi-Wan reassured his commander.

Obi-Wan could feel Plo in the Force, the other Master wrapping a comforting presence around Waxer, Boil, and Kix.  Cody was murmuring in his ear about how he wanted the chip out, out of his vode, out of himself.      

 “You can’t accept any calls from the Chancellor,” Roy said, eyes locked on Cody. 

“I have to,” Cody shook his head, at war with what he had been made for and what he had learned.

“Cody,” Roy’s voice was firm, “you’re the highest-ranking clone.”

Obi-Wan felt a shift in the Force, felt it when Cody realized exactly what Roy was saying. 

“The Chancellor will send the order through me,” Cody sounded hollow, unmoored.  Obi-Wan’s eyes shut as he wrapped a hand around his commander’s wrist, the Force silent.    

Chapter Text

Jason left Skywalker and Amidala and made his way through the Senator’s office suite to the bathroom.  He needed a moment.  Several moments really, a whole lifetime of them, but Roy had contacted him through the comm device Cody gave him and that took precedent.  It also required privacy.  Privacy which Amidala’s bathroom, disturbingly luxurious though it was, provided.  Jason glanced in the gilded mirror, a sardonic look on his face, one that never seemed to leave when faced with so much excess.  Jason sat on the closed lid of the toilet.  A thought of how Skywalker handled it flitted across his mind.  The Jedi weren’t materialistic, that much was obvious.  Still, there was a difference between choosing to go without and being forced to.  Jason’s head dropped to his chest.  Images of another opulent bathroom rose to mind, one from a lifetime ago.  The phantom scent of sandalwood momentarily overpowering the very real floral scent.  Jason flexed his fingers and breathed through his mouth.

He pulled the message up a moment later, breathing steadily.  Roy’s words were short, pained, and Jason took a calming breath, braced himself for what followed.  It wasn’t enough.  As he read through the list of orders, Jason felt the Pit, so close to the surface, heave and burn.  Green twisted its way through his consciousness and Jason’s fists clenched, nails biting into skin. 

“Not now,” Jason snarled, body humming, burning as he shut Roy’s message off.  A light knock sounded on the door.

“Are you alright, Jason?” Amidala’s voice was soft through the door.  Jason stilled, body locking as he remembered how Koon showed up after his last slip.  Jason forced himself to his feet and then over to the door, breathing barely under control.

“I’m fine,” Jason opened the door to Padmé’s concerned gaze. 

She arched a perfect dark eyebrow, clearly not believing him.  Jason chanced a glance in the gilded mirror and winced.  He wouldn’t have believed him either, not with the sweat dripping down his face.  Or the tightness around his eyes and mouth. 

“If you need a minute,” Amidala began, voice trailing off.

“I’m fine,” Jason stated, throat working to keep his voice firm. 

Padmé nodded and stepped back, letting Jason out of the bathroom as she guided him back towards the main sitting room with its calm blue walls.  Jason felt anything but calm at the moment.  The petulant look on Skywalker’s face wasn’t helping either.  Jason breathed.  At least the Jedi didn’t seem to sense his slip up.  Jason paused by the chair he had been sitting in, brow furrowed as he cocked his head, studying Skywalker.  Why hadn’t the Jedi picked up on Jason’s loss of control?  Koon had.  Hell, it didn’t even seem as if Koon had been anywhere near where Jason, Roy, and the clones were meeting and the Jedi picked up on it.    

“Anything we should know?” Padmé’s voice was still soft, grating in its attempt at understanding.  Jason ignored her.

“Who’s gonna be running the trial?” Jason didn’t sit as he crossed his arms, facing Skywalker and Amidala.

“Admiral Wilhuff Tarkin will represent the prosecution,” Amidala’s face pinched and that told Jason all he needed to know about the Admiral. 

“But, the Supreme Chancellor will be presiding over the hearing,” Skywalker said, and Jason could hear the hint of relief leak into the Jedi’s voice. 

Relief Jason didn’t agree should be there.  Not after what he just read.  Jason’s blood thrummed and he almost missed Amidala’s eyes widening, almost missed Skywalker talking a protective step in front of the Senator.  Jason worked his jaw, released the tension in his shoulders.  He breathed and the Pit roiled. 

“I take it you think that’s a good thing,” Jason couldn’t keep the derision out of his voice.  Skywalker bristled and Padmé placed a hand on his arm.     

“He’s been my friend and mentor since I was a kid,” Skywalker snapped.

“That’s creepy,” Jason’s lip curled, disgusted.    

“He’s listened and been there for me when no one else has,” Skywalker continued, nostrils flaring.

“Not really helping your case there,” Jason drawled as Skywalker stepped forward, closer to Jason. 

“Chancellor Palpatine is an ally to the Jedi,” Amidala cut in, “he will help Ahsoka in any way he can.  He knows how much she means to Anakin.”

Jason’s attention snapped to Amidala, even as Skywalker was practically chest to chest with him.  She was steadfast under his scrutiny, firmly believing in what she said.  A litany of curses crossed Jason’s mind as the endgame came to light. 

“You trust him that much?” Jason’s eyes bounced back and forth between the two. 

“Yes,” Skywalker insisted. 

“Of course not,” Amidala huffed, as she nudged Skywalker, “everyone has an agenda, but I trust him with Anakin.”

Jason bit his cheek bloody to avoid commenting on that.  A rare show of restraint that had tangy copper flooding his mouth.  Roy would be proud.

“He’s the only one who knows about us, supports us,” Skywalker reached out and took Amidala’s hand, a soft longing in both their eyes.

“Okay then,” Jason nodded, taking a step back as Skywalker deflated in front of him.

“Right, good,” Padmé gave a small, strained smile, “we need to go over how we are going to help Ahsoka.”

Jason nodded again, moving to sit back down in the plush waiting room chairs.  Skywalker helping Amidala to do the same.  Jason’s skin chafed, too tight and restricting.  He kept his breathing even as Amidala’s voice murmured in the back of his skull.  Plans, ideas, contingencies for what would be presented in court.  A comm chime went off and Jason barely heard Skywalker spout out some excuse before the Jedi went back to tossing out ideas of his own and they were quickly absorbed by Amidala.  If they asked his opinion, Jason didn’t hear it.  He nodded at all the right moments, but otherwise Jason was making plans and contingencies of his own.  Ones that absolutely did not include Skywalker, and mostly excluded Amidala too. 

“You’ll need to find the real bomber,” Jason spoke up, two gazes snapping over to him. 

“I’ve got a lead on that,” Skywalker growled, forehead pinched. 

“So, what, are you waiting for an invitation?” Jason shifted, leaning back as Skywalker drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch he and Amidala were seated on. 

“You’re coming with me,” Skywalker snapped as he stood. 

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Jason crossed his arms and stayed seated.

“I wasn’t asking,” Skywalker loomed over Jason. 

“So, is intimidation going to be a parenting technique?” Jason smirked, “it’s a short trip to beatings from there.”

Jason watched as Skywalker took a sharp step back, face pale as he ran a hand through lanky hair.  Amidala was there, wrapping an arm around the Jedi, a sharp look of censure on her face as she stared at Jason. 

“What, can’t be too concerned about what you’re gonna be like with a little one running around,” Jason slapped his knees and stood up. 

“I would never lay a finger on my child,” Skywalker’s voice shook.

“I’m sure every parent says that,” Jason shrugged as he moved towards the door.

“Know from experience, do you?” Skywalker sneered even as Amidala admonished him.

“Every day,” Jason kept his face calm even as his blood burned, “except when he was in prison.”

****

Obi-Wan sat in the Council Chamber surrounded by his fellow Jedi Masters and reached for calm.  Reached for the Light, for peace.  Mace was not making it easy.  The former Master of the Order was standing feet braced, hands clasped behind his back and staring out the chamber windows, emotions rolling in the Force.  They were being released just as quickly as Mace was feeling them.  But much like Obi-Wan’s own feelings, they were cresting and crashing repeatedly.  Obi-Wan was grateful as he watched Mace’s back tense that he did not have to experience the shatterpoints that had clearly arose from their new found knowledge.    

Obi-Wan’s eyes drifted around the chamber, Plo meeting his gaze with a crestfallen expression.  The Kel Dor’s steady presence had not wavered even in the face of Wolffe’s agony.  Shaak had displayed the same level of calm all Jedi mastered, but Obi-Wan knew, the Council knew, the Kaminoans would not remain in control of Kamino for much longer. 

It was Master Yoda though, that Obi-Wan thought was struggling the most.  The Grandmaster of the Order was withdrawn, looking more shrunken and aged than ever.  He had spent every moment since learning of the purpose of the chips in meditation.  It was him they were waiting on and Obi-Wan didn’t doubt that their guest would start shaking the green Grandmaster if he didn’t come out of meditation soon.

Roy had been a light, a balm, an unyielding support for both the Jedi and the clones.  His Force presence a banked fire ready to leap and sear anything in its way, but comforting to those held close.  Obi-Wan would be eternally in the man’s debt for his support of Cody, of the clones.  A fleeting smile flickered over Obi-Wan’s face, Roy may not have heard it, but Obi-Wan had caught Waxer and Boil referring to the red-head as vod.   

“Jay messaged me,” Roy spoke into the silence, “he and Skywalker are following a lead on the actual bomber.”

“Good,” Obi-Wan nodded, “I take it Anakin has been appraised of the situation?”

Obi-Wan turned to look at Roy as the man stayed silent.  Deep green eyes met his and Obi-Wan felt a certain amount of trepidation roll up his spine.

“Made aware, Skywalker cannot be,” Yoda murmured, dark eyes peeling open.

“Jason agrees,” Roy tilted his head in Yoda’s direction.

“Knight Skywalker is too close with the Chancellor,” Mace’s voice rang out as he continued to stand sentinel.

“You can’t be serious,” Obi-Wan couldn’t contain his incredulity. 

“Discuss this later, we will.  Discuss the chips, now, we must,” Yoda banged his walking stick.  Obi-Wan held his tongue even as he felt his fellow Master’s gazes flicker over him.   

“How are we to disable the chips?” Kit Fisto’s holo projection crossed its arms, lekku’s twitching.  Obi-Wan turned his attention to Roy as the man cleared his throat.

“A low level EMP should do the trick,” Roy rubbed his chin, a glint in those green eyes, “one specifically targeted to the chips signature would be even better.”

“We will have our engineers start working on it right away,” Plo said, decisive and unwilling to let this go any further. 

“Nah, I’ve already got something,” Roy grinned, “just need to analyze a chip and give it a few tweaks.”

Obi-Wan blinked at that excited face.  The Force prodding for agreement as Yoda gave a slow nod, eyes half-mast. 

“Great, I’ll let you know when I’m ready to test it out,” Roy rubbed his hands together, “hopefully it won’t knock anyone out of commission for too long.”

Heads snapped up at that statement and Obi-Wan watched Roy wince, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. 

“It’s going to be an electrical pulse to a chip that’s hard wired to the brain,” Roy grimaced apologetically.  Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose.  Yes, that would most definitely knock the clones out of commission for a bit.

“Cody will want to be first,” Obi-Wan sighed.

“And he should be,” Mace said, “all of the commanders should be.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes trailed along his fellow Council Members, those physically present and the blue holo forms.  He stopped at the empty seat next to him, mind playing back the vague excuse Anakin left on his comm as to why he couldn’t attend the Council’s emergency meeting.  Obi-Wan released his disappointment into the Force, but still felt the echo of his failure.  Obi-Wan dragged his attention back to Roy.  Roy who was giving his all for men he didn’t know, but knew were worth saving.     

“Thank you Mr. Harper, for all you’ve done,” Plo’s voice was soft, deep and somber as he stood and approached their guest, “you have truly been a gift from the Force.”

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan had long since grown out of truly questioning the Force.  The various interpretations of it were always cause for a good debate, but as a Jedi Master, Obi-Wan knew all things followed the will of the Force.  It was a difficult concept to keep in mind as he watched Roy tinker and experiment on his clone commander.  Cody, ever the man to do his duty, sat without complaint.  If anything, his commander would seem anxious when Roy grew silent and contemplative for too long.  Those bouts happened often enough and usually preceded a flurry of movement and sharp directions or questions.  Cody bore it all.  How couldn’t he, Obi-Wan’s mouth pulled into a frown, when there was no other option.  Not for himself or his brothers.  Completely at the mercy of someone else.  Obi-Wan released the rush of horror and anger he felt crawling up his spine.  It could have been worse.  It could have been devastating.  Obi-Wan would put the safety of Cody and the clones in Roy’s hands a thousand times over if it meant they would be free.  The Force had repeatedly assured him of that. 

Roy’s knuckles cracked from where he sat across from Obi-Wan, hunched over a datapad with various tools strewn about the work bench.  One of his arrows, and that had been quite a fun and engaging conversation, was partially dismantled next to his elbow, wires sticking out.  Rex was sitting next to Cody, fiddling with another arrow.  One that apparently released a noxious gas if triggered. 

“Anakin has given you quite the time off,” Obi-Wan mused as he eyed Rex’s continued fascination with the arrow.

“The General said he’s on a solo mission,” Rex’s eyes flickered up and then back to his hands.  Roy snorted and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but echo the sentiment. 

“Skywalker and Jay are looking for the real bomber,” Roy straightened, stretching his back and neck.

“He told you that?” Obi-Wan’s eyes slid to the comm link resting by Roy’s quiver.

“Yeah,” Roy’s brow quirked, “we’re not real big on keeping secrets, someone usually gets hurt if we do.  Not always physically either, not that Jason would ever tell you that.”

Obi-Wan didn’t like the look Roy was giving him.  Far too knowing.  Thankfully, it hadn’t fallen into pitying yet, Obi-Wan could never tolerate pity. 

“I don’t suppose you know where they’re headed or who they’re after?” Obi-Wan arched his own eyebrow. 

“Nothing yet,” Roy shook his head with a grimace, eyes drifting back down to the datapad. 

Obi-Wan watched a contemplative frown pull at Roy’s forehead, freckles bunching.  They had been sitting in this small engineering lab for the better part of a day and Obi-Wan was truly astounded at the level of patience Roy, Cody, and Rex had displayed.  Plo had long since left, escorting the trio down before Obi-Wan had made his way.  A droid had stopped by at scheduled intervals with food and drinks.  Food Roy hadn’t touched, but the caf was drained on reflex and seemingly without taste.       

Obi-Wan had a passing interest in engineering and mechanics, he would have had to been a complete idiot to not have picked up something having trained Anakin.  Still, the speed which Roy learned and adapted his own knowledge to their technology was truthfully, astounding.  Obi-Wan longed to comm Anakin just to have his former padawan here, to have Anakin be around someone who was of the same genius.  But he did not, could not.  The Council agreed, Roy agreed, and if Obi-Wan focused, the Force agreed that Anakin could not know what they were doing.  It was one more secret.  One more lie.  Obi-Wan hoped this time, it would bring peace.  The Force rocked against him softly, reassuring.      

“All right,” Roy looked up, eyes dancing, “I think I’ve got it.”

“I’d appreciate a little more reassurance than that,” Obi-Wan drawled as Rex came over to stand beside Cody.

“Well, the bad news is that the chips aren’t interconnected,” Roy sighed, “at least according to Master Ti, she couldn’t find any main power hub for them.”

“And the good news,” Cody said.

“The EMP should work, if you’re still willing to play guinea pig,” Roy smiled, earnest as Obi-Wan caught Rex mumbling the term guinea pig to himself with a frown. 

“Ready,” Cody snapped to attention and Roy picked up the arrow resting by his elbow.

“What, now?” Obi-Wan stood as well, stepping forward to the large durasteel bench. 

“No time like the present,” Roy shrugged, tucking wires back into the arrowhead, fingers snapping the mechanism shut.

The Force surged and Obi-Wan staggered forward, one hand reaching out to grasp the end of the bench.  His gaze met Rex’s over Roy’s outstretched hand, the arrowhead resting in the red-head’s palm.  Roy’s thumb caressed the shining metal and Obi-Wan barely caught the small indent on the side of the arrowhead.  Obi-Wan watched the tendon in Roy’s thumb flex, the Force thrumming in anticipation.  Static filled the air and both Cody and Rex dropped where they stood. 

“Nice,” Roy leaned over the table, staring down at the unconscious clones. 

And they were unconscious.  Obi-Wan could still feel them in the Force, something he was immensely grateful for after not having the forethought to catch them.  Obi-Wan brought up his comm link and sent a quick message to Master Che, they could put Cody and Rex in the same room as Boil and monitor their progress. 

“Now we wait,” Roy shifted and looked at Obi-Wan, “at least I got the frequency right, could’ve accidently taken out the Temple’s power grid.”

That smile was entirely too happy. 

“Is that what it was originally set for?” Obi-Wan raised a brow, face composed even as his thoughts whirled. 

The smile, if possible, grew wider.

****

Waxer was dozing lightly when General Kenobi and Roy came in, Cody and Rex floating lifelessly behind them.  Waxer lurched to his feet, hands shaking as he moved towards his vode.  Roy intercepted him, grasping Waxer’s hands in his own, smile reassuring.

“They’re fine, Waxer, just unconscious,” General Kenobi moved and levitated Cody and Rex onto separate beds.  Boil was blissfully asleep in the third.

“So, this is why Healer Che had him moved,” Waxer nodded towards Boil.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan nodded, “I thought it best they all recovered together.”

“Will they recover?” Waxer’s voice shook.

“The Force certainly believes so,” the General smiled as a rush of air left Waxer’s lungs.  Roy squeezed his hands.

A med droid came in a moment later and Waxer followed it closely as scans were performed.  Everything read normal, although Cody was a bit dehydrated.  A fact that caused a small pucker to form between the General’s eyebrows.  Waxer shifted, looking away and back to Boil’s peaceful face. 

“What happens next?” Waxer looked back over at his General.

“I’ve already sent the frequency the EMP needs to be set to off to Master Ti,” Roy said as he stepped away from Waxer, “she’ll take care of all your brothers on Kamino.  As for you and the rest, that depends on how long it takes for Cody and Rex to wake up.”

Waxer nodded, it made sense.  If Cody and Rex woke up quickly, they could start as soon as possible with larger groups of brothers.  If they didn’t, Waxer closed his eyes and breathed, they would, it was the will of the Force and he had to have faith in his vode and his General. 

“If it takes too long for them to wake,” Kenobi spoke softly, eyes understanding, “we will have to move more slowly and with smaller batches of clones.”

“I know sir,” Waxer did, he just didn’t like it, “we can’t risk tipping anyone off.”

Master Che strode into the room, effectively cutting off any additional conversation, Kix on her heals.  Waxer took his seat next to Boil’s bedside as the med droid beeped at the Healer and Medic.  Roy ambled over and leaned against the solid white wall, arms crossed, biceps straining the fabric of his shirt.  The soft chime of a comm went off, Waxer watched as Roy’s hand slipped into a pocket pulling out a comm link.  Red brows pinched and Waxer kicked out his foot, nudging Roy’s ankle.  The man looked up, studying Waxer before he winked and went back to the comm message.  Waxer narrowed his eyes even as Roy’s own gaze flickered back to Waxer, a small grin tugging at freckled cheeks.  Waxer held out his hand, palm up as he stared at Roy.  The red head huffed and dropped the comm link onto Waxer’s waiting palm, message pulled up.  It was from Jason.  Of course it was, Waxer shook his head, who else would it be from, everyone else Roy talked to was in the room.  Waxer’s eyes widened as he read the message, relief and hope budding in his chest.  Jason had found the real bomber. 

For a moment, Waxer could see the end, could see possibilities.  Something none of the vode ever dared to think about.  Could see the ‘After’.  After the war was over.  After the clones were freed.  After.  After.  After.  Waxer’s gaze settled on Roy again, the man already looking at him, face tight.            

“The people who cloned you, used you,” Waxer’s voice was soft, insistent, “you beat em’, right? You won?”

“Yeah man, we won,” Roy’s eyes were hard, “it wasn’t the end though, it never is.”

Waxer looked away from the red head back to his three brothers, white sheets tucked crisply around their bodies.  He could just see it, thousands of brothers on Kamino all in the same state, all vulnerable and at the mercy of those who see them as nothing more than flesh droids.  No, it wouldn’t be the end.  There would be another fight to have, a different type of war to wage.  A warm hand landed on Waxer’s shoulder, he looked up expecting to see Roy’s supportive green eyes, his gaze met burning blue instead.     

“As long as I live, I will protect you and your brothers,” General Kenobi’s voice was resolute, “you have my word, Waxer.”

Chapter Text

Jason followed Skywalker through the lower levels of the Jedi Temple.  Footsteps silent as he eyed the broad, dark back of the Jedi in front of him.  Tano had been officially arrested, Amidala having contacted Skywalker with the news.  The trial was proceeding immediately.  Jason’s skin itched.  Everything reeked of corruption.  The only good news was that Cody and Rex had awoken after only a few hours of being unconscious.  Roy was obviously thrilled over the comm message and Jason was quietly relieved.  One less thing they had to worry about.  It would take some time, Jason knew, but soon all the clones would be free of the command chip.  Jason clicked open his comm, sending a short, coded message to Roy.  They had to move and move fast.  Tano’s life depended on it.  A cold sensation crept up his spine, the fate of the galaxy depended on it.

“Who are we meeting?” Jason murmured as he and Skywalker ducked into an elevator.

“A friend of Ahsoka’s,” Skywalker said, eyes sliding over to Jason.  Jason looked back; eyes sharp as he picked up on the harsh undercurrent to Skywalker’s words. 

“You don’t seem so sure about that,” Jason’s eyes slid away as the doors opened and Skywalker stalked out, the growl from the Jedi was answer enough.

They quickly made their way down the softly lit hall, the light shining through from the large floor to ceiling windows.  A quick turn down another hall and Skywalker slowed, shoulders relaxing as they came upon a door with a diamond geometric pattern.  Skywalker glanced back at Jason, eyes blazing as the man visibly forced his face to relax.  The Jedi knocked and Jason heard a quiet voice from inside before the door slid open.  A girl in full black with pale green skin sat on her knees in the middle of the room.  Jason could just make out the same diamond pattern as on the door smattered across her nose and cheeks. 

“Barriss,” Skywalker’s voice was level, inviting as he stepped into the room, “I need to talk to you.”

Jason kept his face placid as he took a step forward, not entering, but preventing the door from closing.  The room was much too small for the three of them to maneuver if this ended poorly.  And it would end poorly, Jason figured that the second Skywalker went looking for his lead.  The Jedi wasn’t in any sort of headspace for this not to end in a fight.  Jason rubbed his fingertips together.  It wasn’t like he was any better.  Not with how his blood hadn’t fully stopped humming a shrieking tune.  Jason breathed as the conversation between the two Jedi continued.  Although, conversation was being generous.  Jason picked up on enough lies coming out of Barriss to make any half decent interrogator cringe.  The girl clearly wasn’t fooling Skywalker either.  Following his lead in the conversation and giving him exactly what he wanted.  No, Jason cocked his head, studying the young Jedi, subterfuge wasn’t something she was used to.  So why do it? 

“Who is your friend?” Barriss glanced back at Jason, an obvious last-ditch attempt at diverting Skywalker’s questions. 

“Jason,” Jason introduced himself, still leaning against the doorframe. 

“Right, you spared against Ahsoka the other day,” Barriss nodded, eyes trained once again on Skywalker, “you don’t think she could have done this?”

“No,” Jason answered, the sentiment echoed by Skywalker.  Barriss didn’t spare him another glance, something he wasn’t quite used to, but would take advantage of when the time came. 

“Well, if not Ahsoka and not Ventress,” Barriss moved back, fingers spreading behind her back, “then who?”

Jason met Skywalker’s eyes over the girl’s head and the All-Blades called.  Jason shuddered and forced himself back as the hum of lightsabers sounded.  Blue and red clashed as Skywalker bared down on Barriss.  Jason ducked out of the way as Skywalker kicked Barriss in the chest, the girl tumbling out of the room.  Jason stepped back again, not yet willing to engage, especially when Barriss didn’t even seem to see him as a threat.  If Jason played this right, he may even be able to help her.  Because she needed it.  She needed help.  Jason could see it even if Skywalker couldn’t.  Jason could see in Barriss what he saw in every person under twenty-five in crime alley.  Someone fighting for justice in an unjust world.  Someone fighting through disillusions.  Someone fighting against what they were raised to believe about the world and the reality they found themselves facing.

Jason sprinted after the two Jedi as they careened down the hall, lightsabers swinging.  They came back to hall will the massive windows, Barriss turning to face down Skywalker’s onslaught.  She was holding her own, but Skywalker was furious.  Jason didn’t need the All-Blades singing in his soul to pick up on that.  He didn’t need the searing flow of the Lazarus Pit to know he didn’t like what he saw on Skywalker’s face, in the Jedi’s actions. 

“Ahsoka trusted you,” Skywalker growled, “and you betrayed her.”

“I’ve learned that trust is overrated,” Barriss snapped back, “the only thing the Jedi Council believes in is violence.”

Jason paused next to a window, Barriss’ words ringing true.  Skywalker would know too if the man took a moment to self-reflect.  He didn’t and Jason watched as he unclipped his own lightsaber, the blue blade flaring to life.  The two reengaged, leaping off the walls as their blades clashed in a cacophony of fury and pain.  Jason watched as Barriss pushed her hand out, Skywalker snapping back against the wall with a pained grunt.  She leapt down, blades arching as they met Skywalker’s, the Jedi general kicking Barriss off him a moment later.  She staggered back, turned and met Jason’s eyes, her own blue eyes widening at seeing him there by the window.

“Cease hostilities,” the Temple Guards cried as they rounded the corner, igniting their yellow double-edged lightsabers. 

Barriss’ eyes flickered over to the guards before landing back on Jason.  Her jaw clenched, frustration rolling off her.  Jason watched as she turned in desperation, looking for a way out.  Their eyes met again, and Jason glanced at the ridiculously large window.  Blue eyes narrowed for a moment, studying him before Barriss turned and launched herself out the window, ignoring Skywalker as he called her name.    

“Stay here,” Skywalker turned briefly to Jason, eyes hard as he launched himself out the window, followed closely by the Temple Guards.  Jason snorted, a crooked smile slipping across his face as he slipped out the window, ignoring the crushed glass.

The flat roof Skywalker and Barriss were fighting on overlooked a courtyard with a group of kids training.  Jason swore as he leapt down, tucking and rolling as he landed in the courtyard.  A moment later, Skywalker slammed down too, landing in a heap.  Jason looked up as one of the kids yelled, Skywalker just flipping over in time to catch Barriss’ attack.  Skywalker kicked her off again.  Jason turned and quickly ushered the kids and their trainer out of the courtyard.  Not a moment too soon either.  Jason turned back just in time to see Skywalker catch Barriss by the wrist, darkness twisting his features as the girl struggled in his hold.  They broke apart and their blades clashed in a series of aggressive strikes one last time.  Jason watched as panic took hold of Barriss’ movements, one last bid for freedom as Skywalker reigned down blow after blow.  Ferocious and uncaring.  Jason felt a surge within himself.  His fingertips tingled. 

A red beam met blue.  Jason watched as Skywalker’s wide eyes trailed along the red lightsaber and up Jason’s arm landing on his face with disbelief shining bright. 

“I think she’s defeated,” Jason drawled, eyes never leaving Skywalker even as Barriss shakes where she sits on the ground. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Skywalker’s chest expanded, teeth clenched, “you’re helping her?  She betrayed the Jedi, betrayed Ahsoka.”

“And what were you about to do?” Jason arched an eyebrow, arm never wavering as the lightsabers remained crossed, “cause it looked like you were about to take her head off.”

“It’d be no less than she deserves,” Skywalker snarled as he flicked his blade up and swept it towards Jason’s head. 

Jason’s blood sang as he brought Maul’s blade up to deflect the strike, finger catching on the switch and igniting the other blade.  He twirled the double-bladed saber with a vicious grin as Skywalker stalked forward. 

“You’re working with her,” Skywalker spat as he lunged forward, lightsaber whizzing past Jason’s ear. 

“Please,” Jason snorted bringing Maul’s blade up in an arc, almost catching Skywalker’s belt and stomach. 

The Jedi leapt back; eyes wide as he spared a glance over at Barriss.  Jason followed his gaze, the girl in the hands of the Temple Guards, blue eyes wide and warring with fear and confusion.

“Then why?” Skywalker attacked again, blue blade swinging with sharp, chaotic movements. 

Jason kept silent in the wake of Skywalker’s question.  A fact that clearly enraged the other man.  Veins surging with the call for blood, Jason met each attack with a parry and counter of his own. The two blades humming and whirling as they moved across the courtyard.  Jason watched as Skywalker tried to predict his attacks, watched as the Jedi became more and more frustrated when he couldn’t.  Jason evaded, he ducked, shifted, spun, and caught each strike.  Skywalker was fuming and Jason saw his opening. 

Jason deactivated one of his blades and with a sharp step forward brought the remaining side up against Skywalker, locking red and blue once again, forearm against forearm.  Skywalker snarled as Jason dropped one of his hands to the bottom hilt of Skywalker’s lightsaber, yanked down and twisted Maul’s blade, the blue blade sliding free of Skywalker’s grip.  With a startled shout, Skywalker lunged forward.  Jason tossed both lightsabers away and shifted to meet Skywalker’s attack.  Jason blocked the fumbled punch, Skywalker not expecting him to get rid of the weapons.  He caught the following kick, twisting Skywalker’s leg and sweeping the other one out from under him.  Skywalker went down, a sharp crack echoed through the courtyard.  Jason shifted his weight as Skywalker stood, face thunderous.  The Jedi stretched a hand out and Jason tackled him before the lightsaber could meet Skywalker’s palm.  Jason straddled the man’s chest, fingers wrapping around his throat and applying steady pressure.      

Jason stared into those bright eyes beneath him.  His skin was tight, blood pumping away, pulse speeding up to match the stuttered one beneath his fingertips.  The sea of green was surging, and Jason felt something constrict around his own throat.  Skywalker’s face twisted in a silent snarl, eyes boring into Jason, frothing with anger.  Green crested over Jason’s vision even as his breath stalled in his throat.  Jason’s fingers squeezed tighter, the constriction on his throat loosening for a moment before returning harsher than before.  The green crashed then, engulfing Jason in its virulent waters.  Sounds dulled, Jason’s breathing stagnated in his own ears.  The force constricting his throat released.  The face and body beneath him went slack, eyes bulging and lips pale. 

Jason snarled as he watched one flesh hand come up and grip his wrist.  Skin meeting skin beneath Jason’s jacket sleeve.  His fingers tightened for a moment around the neck beneath him, but the hand didn’t move to pull at Jason’s wrist.  Instead, calloused fingers started rubbing circles on the soft interior skin of Jason’s wrist.  Jason slowly felt his breathing match up to the rhythm of those slow circles.  Sound started trickling back in, first Jason’s own breath, harsh like a freight train as his heart pumped away.  The sound of his knees shifting on the concrete came next, followed by the hum of the Temple Guards lightsabers.  Jason’s forehead scrunched, confused as to why the guards hadn’t done anything, they should be doing something, but Jason couldn’t make sense of what. 

The fingers continued their stroking and Jason’s body slowly released its tension, starting with his own fingers and hands.  Jason’s fingers flexed, cracked as he eased them away from Skywalker’s reddening neck.  He breathed and shifted on his knees, the hush of the courtyard filling his ears.  Jason blinked and met Skywalker’s gaze.  The Jedi’s eyes were wet, fearful and uncertain as the man continued to keep hold of Jason’s wrist.            

“She’s not past saving,” Jason stated, his chest felt hollow, burned out, “and the fact that you think she is, spits in the face of everything you Jedi are supposed to stand for.”   

Chapter Text

Jason was forcing himself to stay loose, to stay in control.  The Lazarus Pit lapped at his synapsis, his nerves firing and aching with brutal efficiency.  Skywalker was still on the ground, crouched with one knee under himself, but still regaining his breath.  The Jedi’s pose wasn’t threatening enough to trigger any sort of reflex, at least, not yet.  If he stood too quickly, Jason would put Skywalker’s face back in the concrete.     

“I can see you’re angry,” Skywalker’s voice croaked, “why can’t I feel it in the Force?”

Jason blinked, eyes he knew to be burning green flickering around the courtyard.  Barriss was standing, restrained by the Temple Guards.  Not that he worried about her going anywhere.  Not with the look of sheer horror etched across her face, blue eyes ringed in white.  Jason looked away.

“Your eyes are glowing,” Skywalker continued, eyes wide and lips tight, “I can’t feel anything from you.  You might as well not be standing there.”

Skywalker gestured with his mechanical arm as he slowly stood.  Jason cocked his head, brow furrowed. 

“You, you can’t feel him?” Barriss stuttered out.  Blue eyes flashing back and forth between Jason and Skywalker.

Skywalker’s body jerked in an abortive movement, clearly wanting to turn and question Barriss, but unwilling to leave Jason out of his line of sight.  A smart move because Jason wasn’t feeling all to generous towards the Jedi.  If Skywalker gave him an opening like that, Jason didn’t know if he would stop himself.      

“You can feel him,” Skywalker called over his shoulder, “in the Force?”

Barriss nodded, a look of horrified awe crossing her features.  Jason’s skin pricked.  His blood rushed as his heartbeat accelerated.  He took long, even breaths as he studied the two Jedi in front of him.  Jason catalogued their differences, skin and hair color, height, weight, abilities.  Jason made a list and by the time he was done his breathing had evened out.  He was still balanced, ready.  After all, Skywalker had settled into a fighting stance as well, lightsaber firmly in his hand once again. 

“You do realize I have so many more weapons on me right now, I could’ve just shot you,” Jason smirked as he flipped one of his guns out of its holster, “I could still just shoot you.”

Skywalker flushed, anger warping his features.  Barriss flinched behind the Jedi, stepping back as Skywalker stepped forward.  Jason bared his teeth, arm raised with his gun slotted perfectly in his grip. 

“You know, you haven’t been acting very Jedi like,” Jason rolled his shoulders, lips pulled up.

“We are no longer Jedi,” Barriss’ voice called out, “the Council has lost its way.”                  

“Yes, I get it,” Jason snapped, “you can’t handle the hypocrisy.”      

“It’s more than that,” Barriss walked forward, ignoring the guards at her back, “you have to see it.”

Jason’s eyes never left Skywalker, even as the man’s gaze flickered over to Barriss.  Jason almost felt insulted.  Still, she was the apparent criminal here.  Even if Jason was the one who had his hands around Skywalker’s neck moments ago.  The Jedi really didn’t have his priorities straight. 

“What I see is a government being led around by its nose,” Jason grunted, “and a ’so-called’ peace keeping Order afraid of reformation.”  

Barriss’ eyes shone as Skywalker’s shoulders drooped, the man’s lightsaber hand falling to his side. 

“Good people don’t stand by and accept how things stand,” Jason arched an eyebrow. 

“The Jedi Council,” Barriss began, voice rising.

“Your Jedi Council is lost,” Jason cut her off, jaw tight, “they’re not Generals, or military in any way.  This war is so far out of their depth it’s amazing more of you, more innocent civilians haven’t been slaughtered.”

“You want to end this war,” Jason stepped around Skywalker, towering over Barriss, “bombing the people you think are responsible won’t help.”

Jason loomed a moment longer, stepping back only when he heard his comm link beep.  A quick glance at Skywalker showed the man intently studying Barriss, gaze briefly meeting Jason’s.  Jason’s lips twisted as he read Roy’s message, they had to move.  Roy and the clones were on their way to the Senate Dome and Ahsoka’s trial.  Which unsurprisingly wasn’t going well.  Why would it, when the fucker responsible for everything was the one presiding over it.  Jason tipped his head back, a sigh bursting forth as his rage simmered.  His head fell back down, Barriss bright blue eyes locked on his face.

“Probably don’t want to know what it feels like, huh?” Jason crossed his arms, gun tucked under an elbow. 

“I, um,” Barriss trailed off a moment, “I don’t understand how anyone could contain that.”

Jason gave a mirthless chuckle, arms falling to his side as he holstered his gun, ignoring Skywalker’s lingering look.

“Do you think I can help you, Barriss, help the Jedi?” Jason tilted his head.

Jason watched the conflict dance across young, blue eyes.  The young Jedi looking between Jason’s steady gaze and Skywalker’s own conflicted one.    

“The Force certainly thinks so,” Barriss sighed. 

“We have to do this officially,” Anakin stated, clipping his lightsaber back to his belt, “I’m not putting Ahsoka’s freedom in jeopardy.  Barriss is going to be held accountable.”

“I’m not saying she won’t be,” Jason rolled his eyes, “but, if I’m not mistaken, this wasn’t completely her idea.  Execution, yes, but idea, no.”

Skywalker’s head snapped over to look at Barriss.  The young Jedi was gazing at Jason in shock, hope brimming in those eyes.  Barriss smoothed her hands down her dark robes, swallowing as she looked back at Jason. 

“Barriss?” Skywalker’s voice held a note of confusion, uncertainty.  Hope. 

“It was subtle,” Barriss cleared her throat, “I don’t remember when exactly, but I just started feeling heavy.  Drained.  Nothing was going right.  I just thought, I just wanted it to be better, to be over.  For everyone to know what a mistake we were making.” 

“It crept through your defenses,” Jason murmured, “ate at you when no one was there.”

Barriss nodded, eyes wet.  Jason looked at Skywalker, the man’s face pale and sweaty.  Jason remembered the call of the All-Blades.  It ate at Skywalker too, probably more so than anyone else.  A plan took shape in Jason’s mind.  Bold and reckless, but that was his specialty.  Roy’s specialty.  Jason pulled out his comm, ignoring the dread he could feel rolling off the two Jedi.  Jason had the makings of a plan and Jason had Roy.  A slow, unruly smile spread across his face.  The Pit rumbled and Jason’s soul screamed with righteous fury.     

****

Obi-Wan’s comm chirped, the Jedi Master barely glanced down at his comm link as he made his way through the Senate Dome.  Senator Amidala was walking steadily beside him, dark eyes flashing up to his face as he grimaced and pulled up the comm.  It was from Anakin.  Obi-Wan stopped, eyes widening as he quickly read through the coded message.

“What is it?” Padmé’s voice was soft, aware of the people passing them, eyes sharp and ears perked. 

“Anakin found something,” Obi-Wan spoke discreetly, “it will help Ahsoka.”

“I expected nothing less,” Padmé smiled, nodding as she walked ahead. 

“Yes, well, knowing Anakin it will also be cause quite the stir,” Obi-Wan grimaced, shaking his head as he strode onward.        

This farce of a trial was exhausting.  It took all of Obi-Wan’s considerable patience to sit high above where Ahsoka was and listen to the accusations hurled at his grand-padawan by the vile being playing puppet for Palpatine.  The recesses were few and far between.  Tarkin doing his best to destroy Senator Amidala’s defense of Ahsoka and the image of the Jedi Order.  Had Obi-Wan not known what he did about Palpatine, about the clones’ control chips, he would not have seen it.  It was humbling.  Destructive, but perhaps that was what they needed.  The Order had grown stagnant, accepting of its fate.  Enough so, that the Force itself felt a drastic need to intervene in such an unprecedented way. 

The two of them reached the heavy, arching double doors.  Obi-Wan looked at Padmé, her slicked back dark hair, severe face, and demure but opulent dress.  Their eyes held and Obi-Wan was grateful for her, more so than she could possibly know.  Obi-Wan sketched a brief bow and made his way to the side stairs, foregoing the elevator, leading to his and the other Jedi’s seating.     

Obi-Wan met Plo’s grim face as he re-took his seat, Master Yoda on his left.  The Grandmaster of the Order’s claws were clasped in front of him, dark eyes lidded and flickering.  Obi-Wan took a deep breath and reached for the Force.  It was churning.  Rippling with change and darkness.  Obi-Wan’s fingers clutched the arms of his chair, releasing as he felt the soothing brush of Plo’s Force presence. 

“Received news, you have,” Yoda murmured, face still as Padmé and Tarkin walked back in.  A set of guards followed a moment later, Ahsoka cuffed between them. 

“Anakin and Jason have apprehended the true bomber,” Obi-Wan spoke softly, eyes stuck on his grand-padawan.

“Bring them here, they will?” Yoda’s ears perked.  Obi-Wan nodded in affirmation, forehead puckered as he stroked his beard.

“Something else, there is?” Yoda hummed. 

“Nothing that Anakin said,” Obi-Wan shook his head, “more something he didn’t say, a feeling.”

“He is with Jason,” Plo’s voice barely carried from where the Kel Dor Master sat, still facing forward and for all appearances engaged in the shuffling below. 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan stated, voice wry, “that may be the cause for the feeling.”

Obi-Wan felt Plo’s amusement ripple through the Force, glad for the Kel Dor’s unwavering placidness.

“They will be arriving soon,” Plo spoke with surety, the Force surging in agreement. 

A note of warning curled through the Force, but for what, Obi-Wan could not guess.  Change was imminent.  The fate of the Order, the republic, the galaxy as a whole was teetering on the decisions made by a few.  Obi-Wan had never felt so out of control, so adrift in the possibilities of the unknown.  The Force surged, calling for attention.  Obi-Wan straightened, Plo and Yoda shifting beside him.  Anakin stalked through the durasteel doors a moment later, mouth set in a grim line and eyes hard, softening only when they landed on Ahsoka. 

“I hope you have a reason for bursting into our proceedings Master Skywalker?” Palpatine’s voice was dry, calm as he surveyed the scene below. 

“I am here, with evidence and a confession,” Anakin looked around the trial chamber, the lights glinting in his eyes, “from the person responsible for all the crimes Ahsoka has been accused of.”    

Obi-Wan could feel Ahsoka’s relief burst through her tightly contained walls.  There were Temple Guards behind Anakin, a small figure slouched between them.  Obi-Wan knew that Force signature as well.  Barriss lifted her head as Anakin stepped aside.

“Barriss Offee,” Anakin’s voice rang out. 

Barriss stepped forward, face taut and shoulders held stiff.  Obi-Wan glanced at Master Yoda, Plo’s shock mirroring his own in the Force.  This was highly unexpected. 

“Tell them the truth,” Anakin gestured to Palpatine, eyes burning.  Obi-Wan could feel his former padawan’s anger, his disgust. 

“I did it,” Barriss held her head high, “because I’ve come to realize, what many people in the Republic have come to realize, that the Jedi are the ones responsible for this war.  That we’ve so lost out way we have become villains in this conflict.  That we are the ones that should be put in trial.  All of us.  And my attack on the Temple was an attack on what the Jedi have become, an army fighting for the Dark Side.  Fallen from the Light that we once held so dear.  This Republic is failing.  It’s only a matter of time.”

“Take her away,” Palpatine waved his hand, the Temple Guards shuffling Barriss back down the walkway and out the chamber doors. 

Obi-Wan shut his eyes, fingers stroking through his beard.  It hurt to have obviously failed so utterly.  Like a shard of glass wiggling its way through his sternum.  The Force hummed against his senses.  It was not the time to mourn what could have been.  No, the Force whispered for preparedness.  Obi-Wan tensed, eyes alighting around the trial chamber.  Tarkin was speaking, hands clasped tightly behind his back, cool eyes flickering up towards Palpatine.  Obi-Wan shuddered as the Force whispered of treachery.  He ripped his attention away from Tarkin, eyes scouring the room for broad shoulders, critical eyes, and a turbulent presence.  Obi-Wan frowned when he didn’t find it.    

“Where is Jason?” Plo’s voice was so soft and echoed his own musings, Obi-Wan did not realize the other Master spoke for a moment.       

Obi-Wan shook his head, gaze drifting back to Tarkin just as an exceedingly familiar arrow sprouted from the man’s head. 

Chapter Text

Jason’s plans were always simple.  Get in, kill some evil fucker and destroy said evil fucker’s operation, get out.  Effective in its simplicity.  What wasn’t simple was the usual weeks of surveillance, research, mock run throughs, and additional prep it took to make sure the simplicity of the plan worked.  Jason rarely ever went in half-cocked and if he did, it was only because he had stumbled upon something he wasn’t about to let pass.  He didn’t turn Gotham’s underbelly on its head, didn’t become a successful crime lord with a half-baked plan.  The Pit made him seem chaotic, vicious, but Jason knew nothing cut deeper, more efficiently than meticulous planning.    

Jason was aware enough to admit the current plan might not be as fleshed out as it could be.  Improvisation was as necessity to the execution of any plan, but not the backbone.  No matter what Skywalker seemed to think.  Jason shook his head as he slunk through the Temple halls.  He hadn’t come across anyone yet, unsurprising with the current state of events.  Still, he needed to find Windu and Jason had hoped this universe’s Force would have plopped the Jedi in his path by now.  Kenobi, Yoda, and Koon were out, Roy said they were the Order’s witnesses at the Senate for Ahsoka’s trial.  Jason sneered, and wasn’t that a suspiciously speedy trial.  Roy had been sending him updates at ten-minute intervals, the archer and the clones already on site and waiting for Jason and whoever he could scrounge together for the cavalry.  Jason turned a corner, the doors to an elevator sliding open before him.  Windu stepped out, eyebrows raised. 

“Finally,” Jason rolled his eyes, striding up to the Jedi, “grab anyone you can spare who’s good in a fight, but don’t leave the Temple unguarded.”

Jason stopped short as he took in the sight of Windu.  The Jedi Master’s lips were pressed thin, his dark brow drawn low and strained.  Sweat beaded on his skin, rolling down his clenched jaw and neck.  Jason’s body tensed, eyes alighting around the corridor as he took Windu by the shoulder, pressing him back into the elevator.

“What happened?” Jason spoke lowly, fingers checking Windu’s pulse, his eyes.  He could feel his blood simmer.    

“Whatever you are planning,” Windu breathed out, eyes latching onto Jason, “does not have a high success rate.”

Jason cocked his head, studying Windu.  Those dark eyes were grave, certain in what he was saying.  Jason tried to remember if Kenobi or the clones ever said anything about premonitions or the Force giving people the ability to see the future.  Jason licked his lips, either way, it would be stupid not to listen to Windu. 

“Where does it go wrong?” Jason asked, palm squeezing the juncture between the man’s neck and shoulder. 

“Skywalker,” Windu sighed as the elevator started to move, another floor calling it.  The Jedi Master leaned forward, reaching around Jason and hit a button.  The elevator stopped.    

“I gave him his job,” Jason shook his head, “He presents Barriss at the trial just like he wants to, no lying there.  The only thing he has to do after that is get Ahsoka and Amidala out of there.  Keep them safe.”

“He’ll come back,” Windu’s eyes shut, mouth drawn in a frown, “once he realizes what’s going on, he will not be kept out of the fight.  Palpatine wouldn’t want it any other way.”

It was Jason’s turn to shut his eyes, hand dropping from Windu’s shoulder.  A warning ring went off in the elevator.  Jason cracked his neck, shifting his helmet in his hand as it tapped against his left thigh holster.  Jason had hoped someone picked up on Skywalker’s chaotic mental state, he was just hoping for a little more empathy.  His empty hand flexed, fingers tingling as his blood began to thrum.         

“You think he’s going to,” Jason opened his eyes, gaze hard on Windu, “what is it, Fall?”

“You see it too,” Windu’s voice was sharp, eyes steady, daring Jason to lie.  Jason’s fingers twitched. 

“What if he does?” Jason took a step forward, armored chest brushing Windu’s soft robes, “are you going to help him back up or leave him to the darkness?”

Jason watched Windu study him.  Watched those unyielding dark eyes rove over his features then stop and go distant, searching.  Windu’s face couldn’t seem to relax as he looked back at Jason.  Couldn’t seem to find what he was looking for.  Dread crawled up Jason’s spine.  He knew what was coming.  Knew what he had to make Windu understand.      

“You don’t understand what Falling does to a Jedi,” Windu spoke in a steady, measured tone.  Jason wanted to hate that tone, but the man wasn’t wrong.

“No,” Jason shoulders dropped, and he took a step back, “but I know what endless darkness does.  I know what time without hope does.  I know what death does.”    

“We all have touched death,” Windu’s head tilted minutely, eyes narrowed. 

“Sure,” Jason shrugged, gaze just over Windu’s shoulder, “but none of you have experienced it.”

A warm hand came up, landing on Jason’s neck, thumb turning Jason’s attention back to the man in front of him.  Brown eyes were wide, shot through with emotion Jason was sure no one had been privileged to see in many years.  It was a haunted look, sorrowful and a bit lost.  Windu’s other hand came up to mirror its counterpart.  The warm palm searing the thin skin of Jason’s neck.  Dark eyes closed and Jason watched Windu take deep, steady breaths.  Those eyes opened moments later, clear and calm once again.  Jason swallowed, working the tension out of his jaw.        

“I came back,” Jason’s voice shook, “I came back, and I didn’t have a single person who cared to help pick me back up.”

****

Waxer hadn’t felt this sense of staticky calm since he was a shiny completing his first drop.  It was the understanding that any moment could be the last, but he was here, fighting for a purpose.  This time, for a purpose he chose.  For his vod.  For his Generals.  The plan was simple for Waxer.  Go in, kill Palpatine, get out.  There was more to it, Waxer knew.  After all, Roy had been sending Jason messages consistently.  Although, he didn’t know how much more there was judging by the pinched look on Cody’s face.  A look that had barely relaxed even has Healer Che and Kix gave Cody, Rex, and Boil the all-clear.  As if any of Waxer’s vod would miss the fight even if they hadn’t received one. 

It was a comfort though, an overwhelming weight lifted, to know his vod were free of the chip and soon they all would be.  A cold shudder crept through Waxer’s blacks as he looked at his brothers.  He was still a threat.  He could still be controlled.  Be used.  There hadn’t been time though.  Roy had been apologetic, had offered the EMP, but Waxer wasn’t going to be taken out of commission for this fight.  They had planned for the possibility of Palpatine issuing an order.  Roy tinkered with Waxer’s bucket, the red-head re-wiring the audio receptors to be virtually non-functioning.  They would communicate with Waxer by hand signals only when he had his bucket on.  Waxer took a breath where they waited, crouched down and hidden in an alcove outside Ahsoka’s trail chamber.  They didn’t sneak in per se.  But once Roy spotted the number of guards outside the Senate, he made the decision to find an alternate route in.  One Waxer’s stomach was still unsettled by.                  

“How much longer?” Rex spoke softly, shifting were he crouched. 

“Skywalker should be arriving shortly,” Roy’s thumb caressed his bow, “Jay will be following with reinforcements.”

“I know that,” Rex huffed, “I just hate waiting.  Especially, with what Commander Tano is facing alone.”

“We’ll get her out Captain,” Roy smiled, a large hand clapping Rex’s shoulder.  Rex nodded just as Roy’s comm chimed, the archer glancing down, a grin lighting his face.

A commotion sounded a little ways ahead of them and Waxer peeked out to see what the cause was.  General Skywalker’s voiced drifted clear and sharp; Waxer just able to make out the yellow glow of the Temple Guards lightsabers.  Waxer couldn’t make out who was in the middle, just a long, dark robe.  He did manage to catch a glimpse of General Skywalker’s face and knew the Jedi had brought the true bomber in to face justice.

“We’re running out of time,” Rex hissed as the trial chamber doors fell shut behind Skywalker.       

“Relax,” Roy drawled, “the Temple Guards still have to come out.  And, if I know Skywalker, which I really don’t, but the man doesn’t seem the type to just breeze through his anger at the injustice done to Tano.”

“Picked up on that did you?” Rex huffed and Roy grinned, his comm chiming once again.

“Cody and Boil are in position?” Roy glanced at Rex, the blond Captain nodding, “good, they’re about to get company and so are we.”

Waxer straightened, head peeking out once again to see nothing but empty corridor.  That was until the sound of a light tread hit his ears.  Waxer stood, Rex and Roy following suit behind him as General Windu came into view, brown robes flaring out around him.  Jason was next to him.  Or, well, the man they met on Vrogas Vas was next to him, red helmet gleaming atop broad shoulders.  Waxer’s throat spasmed as he remembered that immovable stance, sharp words.  He remembered those furiously burning green eyes in the apartment.  Windu and Jason ducked into the alcove, Jason removing the lifeless, red helmet.        

“We all set?” Jason looked at Roy, the red head nodding with a small smile, “good.”

Jason held out his helmet to Waxer, a dark eyebrow raised as Waxer stared at it in confusion.

“What’s this for?” Waxer glanced at Roy, the man’s smile only growing.

“It’s the distraction,” Jason shoved the helmet into Waxer’s hands, “well, another distraction.”

“I thought we were going to set off a small explosion,” Rex, thankfully, looked just as confused as Waxer felt.

“We are, well, you are,” Jason nodded to his helmet, “it’s got explosives in it.”

“You walk around,” Waxer couldn’t restrain the horrified awe in his voice, “with a bomb on your head.”

Waxer caught the flat stare General Windu locked on Jason as a sharp smile spread over Jason’s face, eyes light and mischievous.  He dragged Waxer towards him and quickly went through how to arm the explosives in the helmet, voice measured and sure as Waxer repeated what Jason said. 

“Get your ass back here once that’s done,” Roy cut in, “you’ll need to evacuate any of the Senators and other civilians hanging around.”

Waxer nodded; he knew his job.  Just as he knew he had to be kept away from Palpatine for the safety of the mission and everyone.

“We’ll take care of your brothers,” Roy clapped him on the shoulder, serious in his conviction. 

Waxer took a breath, snapping his bucket on his head and tucking Jason’s helmet under his arm.  Rex grabbed him before he took a step, knocking their helmeted foreheads together.    

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan’s lightsaber was in his hand, Yoda and Plo by his side as they stood staring down at the limp body of Tarkin.  Absolute silence filled the chamber and the Force was shuddering, pulsing with anticipation.  Obi-Wan’s gaze flitted up to Palpatine, a momentarily befuddled look on the man’s, the Sith’s, face.  Darkness curled through the Force as Palpatine’s face smoothed out, relaxed with a mocking glint.  The silence snapped. 

Exclamations rang out from the Senators bearing witness to Ahsoka’s trial, Mas Amedda calling for additional guards.  Guards that didn’t come as a klaxon blared through the chamber, echoing off the durasteel walls.  The Force was whirling, chaotic and unrestrained.  Obi-Wan’s emergency comm line sounded, he quickly read the message.  An explosion on the opposite side of the Senate Dome.  Obi-Wan looked down, meeting Yoda’s dark gaze.

“Contain this, we must,” Yoda leapt up, landing softly on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

Obi-Wan looked across the chamber, eyes landing on Bail, the Senator clearly trying to keep his peers calm.  His friend quickly looked over as if he sensed Obi-Wan’s gaze.  Dark eyes sharpened as he took Obi-Wan in.  A small hand gesture and raised brow was all Obi-Wan needed to convey and Bail gave a slight nod, turning back to the other Senators.  Obi-Wan leapt down from the viewing area a moment later, Yoda on his shoulder and Plo close behind. 

He landed on the durasteel catwalk across from Anakin who was now standing over Tarkin’s body.  Plo spoke behind him, addressing Ahsoka, but Obi-Wan didn’t pay any attention to the words.  He was scanning the trial chamber, searching the shadows for any sign of red.  Obi-Wan stretched his senses, opened himself up to the Force, looked for the banked fire he had come to associate with Roy.

The Force nudged him and Obi-Wan tilted his head, past Padmé’s head and up to the large protruding Republic Cog.  There was the hint of red he was looking for in the recessed shadows.  The Force flared in warning.  Obi-Wan’s head snapped around, eyes landing on Palpatine.  The Supreme Chancellor was watching him.  A cold smile flickered across the Sith’s face.  Yoda’s grip on Obi-Wan tightened.

“Master Kenobi,” Palpatine’s voice rang out with a thin veneer of concern.  Mas Amedda frantic next to him, blue skin darkening as he continued to try and reach the Senate guards and security.   

“The killer does not seem to be in the chamber, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan spoke lightly, “there is only one way in and one way out once a trial is in session, and I’m afraid the last ones out were the Temple Guards and Barriss Offee.”

Palpatine’s gaze narrowed, mouth tightening.  Obi-Wan held his ground as he felt the swell of darkness.  Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan caught Plo taking a step towards Ahsoka’s platform.  His grandpadawan standing rigid, alone.  Obi-Wan didn’t think about how easy it was, especially for someone clever, to access the viewing platforms the Jedi and the Senators were occupying.  Still, someone should have noticed Roy sneaking in.  Obi-Wan’s repressed the slick feeling crawling up his back as the Force seemed to darken and curl with amusement.      

“Anakin, my boy,” Palpatine turned, smiling at Obi-Wan’s padawan.  Obi-Wan’s shoulders tightened, Yoda exuded calm into the Force from his perch.    

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan cut it, “it may be best if you escorted Senator Amidala and the others out and to a safe location.”

“Why Master Jedi,” Palpatine spoke, a dark gleam in his eye, “if you do not believe the killer to be here, is this not the safest place for Senator Amidala?”   

Obi-Wan’s hand clenched around the hilt of his saber.  Anakin shifted where he stood beside Tarkin’s body, eyes flitting over to Padmé.  Unsubtle as always when it came to the Senator.  A fact Palpatine clearly knew and would exploit.  Obi-Wan’s eyes narrowed, had most likely exploited on numerous occasions.  The Force shifted in agreement.  If Obi-Wan survived this he would have to go back and reexamine every interaction, every mission, every order.  They all would.  But now wasn’t the time to think such thoughts.           

“Protocol mandates Senators, officials, and civilians should be evacuated to an offsite, secure location,” Obi-Wan countered, “including you, Chancellor.”

Obi-Wan’s chin snapped up, eyes steady on the Sith above him.  Yoda steady on his shoulder, a continuously calm presence in the growing darkness.  Darkness, Anakin doesn’t seem to sense.  Seemed to trust.  Obi-Wan swallowed, unwilling to think of how he had failed his padawan, his brother, so completely. 

“He doesn’t need to go anywhere,” a deep, dry voice rang out from behind Obi-Wan.      

The Force surged, clashed with anticipation, with darkness, with possibilities. 

****

Jason gave Skywalker one job.  Fucking Kenobi didn’t even know what that job was and even he told Skywalker the same damn thing Jason did.  But, no.  Jedi General Anakin ‘the Hero with No Fear’ Skywalker couldn’t do one thing he was told.  Jason rolled his eyes, fists clenched.  Now, they were going to have to improvise, earlier than planned.  They were going to have to deal with Palpatine manipulating Skywalker.  Jason didn’t need to look over at Windu to know the Jedi was going to lord this over Jason if they all made it out alive.

Roy had done his part.  Jason could count on that.  Jason clocked the archer the second he walked in, perched atop the government symbol.  The prosecutor, Tarkin, his death hadn’t been the original diversion.  Not until Roy brought up the information they had stolen from their first excursion into the Senate and briefed Jason on what he had learned about the man.  There really wasn’t much of a decision after that.  Not that either Jason or Roy told anyone what they were up too for that particular diversion.  A fact Jason was pretty sure Windu was going to lose his calm, Jedi façade over.  Jason suppressed a smirk.  Something told him the Jedi weren’t too fond of murder.  Possibly all of that ‘peace-keeper’ talk.

Granted, Tarkin’s death wasn’t a diversion that worked out too well.  Or at all.  Fucking Skywalker.  Fucking Palpatine and his creepy, chokehold he had over seemingly everything.  Jason took a deep breath, blood surging through his veins.  It wasn’t Skywalker’s fault.  It was Palpatine’s, the manipulative scumbag.  Jason kept his eyes locked on the elderly looking man above them as they walked forward, sweat dripping down his neck.  The sound of Rex’s boots marching across the metal walkway echoed in his ears.  His heart pulsing to the rhythm.      

The All-Blades had been battering against Jason, screaming for release the moment he, Windu, and Rex walked through the chamber doors.  The inside of Jason’s cheek was bloody, copper coating his tongue from where he bit a hole in it.  Windu was casting him subtle glances every other step.  Jason ignored the Jedi, focused inward, keeping a chokehold on himself.  The All-Blades shuddered, strained and the Pit whispered, coiled tight.  Ready as his palms burned.           

Jason and Windu came to a stop next to Kenobi and Yoda, Rex positioned slightly behind them.  Jason didn’t spare a glance for Skywalker but met the wide, blue gaze of Tano with a quirk of his lips.  The Jedi padawan’s eyebrows raised, hands coming to rest on her hips.  Jason let his smile spread, bloody teeth bared.  Anticipation curled in his gut.       

“Master Windu,” Palpatine stared down at them, eyes shrouded, “this is a closed trial, the Jedi have put forth their witnesses.  One of which you are not.”

“Apologies Supreme Chancellor Palpatine,” Windu stepped forward, posture relaxed, “we are here on a separate matter.”

“We?” Palpatine sneered, glittering eyes landing on Jason. 

“Unbiased, external contractor,” Windu barely spared Jason a glance, “the Order felt it needed an outside perspective for this matter.”

“And what matter would that be?” Palpatine’s lips quirked, shadows slowly shrouding him.

Something slick and oily crawled down Jason’s throat, spread through his spine.  Jason’s fingers flexed, the All-Blades swelled and pummeled against his control.  Windu took a step forward, body tilted, partially blocking Jason from Palpatine’s gaze.  The feeling receded, a sense of calm cascaded over Jason as Windu stepped back, brushing Jason’s shoulder. 

“Master Windu, Supreme Chancellor,” the babbling blue dude next to Palpatine cut in, voice shaking, “I really must interrupt, we’ve had a murder and an attack on the Senate, this takes precedent.”

Jason’s gaze didn’t waver from Palpatine, the old man’s lips curling as he ignored his advisor.  The panicked chattering faded in and out as Jason continued to lock eyes with the Supreme Chancellor.  Something or someone gripped the sleeve of his jacket, fingers wrapping around his wrist and squeezing.  Jason paid the pressure no mind, eyes focused, breathing deep.  Sound faded.  His heartbeat drummed.  A whisp of curling heat, of light, threaded through his chest and up to his mind.  It circled the Pit’s waters, dove in and spread, raising the tide.  It rolled with the waves, coursed through Jason, back to the very core of him.  Jason breathed.  It danced, savage and hungry.  Jason could feel his lips stretch, a smile just for Palpatine.  Jason let it out.

****

Obi-Wan would admit later that he hadn’t been a pillar of Jedi virtue in those last moments before chaos was unleashed.  He had not demanded the Senators and officials be escorted to safety.  He had not prioritized Ahsoka or Anakin.  Obi-Wan had stood, rooted to the ground as the Force buckled and warped around Jason.  As Palpatine, the Sith Lord responsible for the war, gathered the darkness around himself, face alight with intrigue and malice.  Obi-Wan didn’t move, couldn’t move, no more than Mace or Plo could.  Not as the Force fell silent.  Not as it cracked. 

Jason stood before him, a shimmering tower of righteous wrath.  The All-Blades coalesced in Jason’s palms, tempered in their flickering flame.  Their light burned, swallowing the growing shadows in the trail chamber.  Hisses and cries could be heard throughout the chamber, even Rex had taken a step back.  Obi-Wan had not, could not.  Neither did Mace, the Jedi Master’s hand still gripping Jason’s wrist through his jacket. 

Obi-Wan opened himself up, taking a deep breath as the Force swirled with power.  He felt Roy’s patience first, the red head waiting, unsurprised by what was happening below his perch.  Uncertainty and fear slammed into Obi-Wan next, it was radiating out of Ahsoka.  His grandpadawan was still alone on her platform.  Obi-Wan sent as much calm as he could out to her and was proud when he felt determination start to overcome Ahsoka’s fear.  Mace’s own determination and awe was mixed with Plo’s concern.  Both Jedi Master’s deep in the Force as well.  They brushed against Obi-Wan, assessing and reassuring.  Yoda, still a physical weight on his shoulder was focused entirely on Palpatine.  The Grandmaster drew Obi-Wan’s attention to the Sith. 

A covetous desire darkened the Force around Palpatine.  The Sith’s gaze greedy as it seemed to strip Jason of his flesh.  Carved through the man, flaying him of all his secrets.  Obi-Wan knew what he saw within Jason, knew what the Force had deigned to show himself and his fellow Masters.  The Force darkened, rippled.  Obi-Wan could imagine what Palpatine was seeing.  Knew Palpatine was seeing the scars, the darkness Jason had overcome.  Urgency curled through the Force.  Obi-Wan’s lightsaber hummed to life.

“Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine, we are placing you under arrest,” Mace’s voice rang out. 

The Force stilled.  The Senators, officials, even Mas Amedda fell quiet.  Incredulity spilled into the Force and Obi-Wan caught Anakin taking a step forward, a frown marring his features.  Thankfully, Padmé grabbed Obi-Wan’s former padawan, tugging him back to her side.

“It seems the Jedi are staging a coup,” Palpatine mocked, “and after they’ve fallen so low in favor and principle.”

“Come quietly Chancellor,” Mace continued, hand still clamped around Jason’s wrist, the All-Blades gleaming just below where they were linked.

“Anakin, my boy,” Palpatine’s smile was triumphant, as if he had already won, as if this all was inconsequential. 

“Leave him out of this,” Jason snarled.  The deep, guttural sound had Obi-Wan’s and everyone’s attention snapping to him. 

“So be it,” Palpatine smiled, and the Force crackled. 

Chapter Text

Waxer kept his head forward, shoulders back as he walked briskly away from what was soon to be a spectacular explosion.  The halls were clear, Cody ensuring he would not be disturbed as he strategically placed Jason’s helmet in a far-off section of the Senate Dome.  Waxer still could barely understand how Jason ran around with a bomb on his head.  He was an absolute madman, worse than Waxer’s General.  The di'kut.  Waxer turned a corner, stepped out through the durasteel doors and into an open courtyard, a squad of the Coruscant Guard milling about.  Waxer stopped short, his vode were not supposed to be here.  No one was supposed to be here.  Waxer subtly checked his comm.  There was nothing from Cody or Rex.  Although, he wasn’t expecting anything from Rex.  Waxer looked around, he had to get his vode away from here, Jason’s helmet was going to blow in less than three minutes. 

His hand slipped into a pouch at his waste.  Fingers gliding over the smooth triangular shape nestled at the bottom.  It would have to do.  He didn’t have any other plan.  Waxer would save his brothers.  As many as he could.  Waxer would trust Cody, Rex, and Boil to finish what he couldn’t.  His glove caught on the barely there indent as Waxer walked out to meet his vode.  His head split a moment later, vision going dark.  Waxer didn’t remember hitting the ground.        

****

Obi-Wan’s skin prickled as Jason raised the All-Blades, their glow lighting the durasteel of the walls in a raging inferno matched only by the clamoring of the Force.  No one moved even as Chancellor Palpatine stared down at them, dark glittering eyes taunting Mace.  Obi-Wan could feel the darkness swell and billow through the Force.  Could feel it drawn to and curl around the yawning abyss that was Jason.  Obi-Wan held his ground, coiled and ready as he felt the searing echoes of Jason’s own presence within the Force finally fully unleashed.  Uncontainable and voracious in its surging power, Obi-Wan shored up his own shields, bracing against the onslaught.  He had never been more thankful towards the Force for keeping Jason’s presence from them.  Obi-Wan didn’t know how Mace was handling it, standing shoulder to shoulder with Jason.  Then again, Mace had always straddled the Light and the Dark far better than any other, knowing his limits as he did.  Jason’s presence in the Force teetered on the same thinly balanced line.  His very being seemed to be constantly shredded and reformed.  A merging of passionate contradictions and convictions.  Totally balanced in their focus.  A focus riveted on Palpatine.  Obi-Wan felt the Force shudder and shriek the moment Palpatine’s own Force presence brushed up against Jason. 

“Anakin, my boy, you neglected to tell me just how interesting the Jedi’s guest is,” a greedy hunger lit the Chancellor’s dark eyes.

“Apolog--,” Anakin’s mouth clicked shut, eyes widening as he took a shaky, disbelieving step back. 

Obi-Wan reached out to his padawan, calm and reassuring as Anakin’s Force signature roiled with uncertainty and creeping fear.  Cloying satisfaction simmered in the Force as Palpatine’s gaze settled on Anakin.   

“I could have helped him, Anakin,” Palpatine smiled, eyes cajoling, “just like I am helping you.”

Obi-Wan’s gut clenched as Yoda’s claws dug into his shoulder.  The Force felt thick, oppressive as the Darkness surged.  He felt Mace and Plo’s Force signatures brush up against him, strong and reaffirming.  Obi-Wan took a breath and reached out to Ahsoka, his grand-padawan standing tall and sure on her solitary platform.  Ahsoka’s confusion was evident, her fear kept in check by her insurmountable will.  Obi-Wan let her feel his pride and watched as Ahsoka squared her shoulders.  A burst of light danced through the Force.  Obi-Wan breathed with its steady rhythm. 

Obi-Wan locked eyes with Padmé over Anakin’s shoulder.  Dark eyes pinched with resolve and Obi-Wan couldn’t stop the warmth blooming in his chest as he watched Padmé reach out and grasp Anakin’s mech hand, forever their staunch ally.  Obi-Wan just needed them out of the cold, durasteel trial chamber.  Safe and away from Palpatine’s machinations.  There were too few options though.  Mas Amedda was still furiously calling for aid, Obi-Wan doubted they had much time until he succeeded, and the Coruscant Guard arrived.             

“Skywalker,” Jason snarled, knuckles white, “do the one thing you want to do, the one thing you were supposed to do, and get Amidala the fuck out of here and to safety.”

Anger pulsed through the Force and Obi-Wan barely swallowed a sigh.  The Darkness billowed and swirled as Jason and Anakin’s anger climbed.  Palpatine’s sickening presence grew.  Obi-Wan felt himself sway where he stood and grasped for the Force.    

“No more,” Yoda’s voice cut through the tension.

The Grandmaster flipped off Obi-Wan’s shoulder a moment later and across the catwalk, landing neatly in front of Anakin.  

“Come with us, you will,” Yoda’s gaze was steady on Palpatine, stance ready as his short stature protected Anakin and Padmé. 

“On what grounds, Master Yoda?” derision dripped from Palpatine’s smile. 

“Are you seriously still asking this bastard to come quietly,” Jason’s voice was incredulous as Rex shifted behind him.    

“Bound, we are, by the laws of the Republic,” Yoda’s ears flickered.

Palpatine’s smile grew, the Supreme Chancellor spread his arms, dark robes fluttering.  The Force sharpened with aggravation, Jason shifted on his feet as his mouth curled, teeth bared. 

****

Jason was seconds away from signaling Roy to fire off an arrow.  The political game the Jedi were playing was ridiculous and would only end in more death.  Palpatine wasn’t going to go quietly or easily, megalomaniacs never did.  They needed to act, needed to be swift and brutal.  Hot certainty crept along Jason’s spine.  They had to stop playing Palpatine’s game, they had to stop letting him lead.  It was a death sentence.   

“They hurt you, don’t they,” Palpatine’s stare flickered to the All-Blades, hand raising, outstretched, eyes alight with the desire to touch.

“Living hurts me,” Jason blinked and shrugged, shoulders tight and wrists heavy.

“Then why continue?” Palpatine’s voice was coaxing as he moved closer to the edge of his platform.

“Been dead,” Jason smirked, heart thrumming, “didn’t really take.”

“So, that’s what it is,” Palpatine’s grin stretched across his face, wrinkles pulling. 

Jason stilled, cold dread creeping up his spine.  He’d seen a smile like that before.  He still saw it.  Green flared and cracked along his vision.  Palpatine lunged, hands outstretched with a bleeding red blade alive and arching towards Jason’s head.  Purple filled Jason’s vision.  Jason didn’t hesitate a moment longer, he ducked under Windu’s arm, All-Blades coming up to sweep at Palpatine as the Sith lurched back, lengths separating them once again.  

Silence hung heavy in the cold trial chamber.  Jason was not in tune with the Force, but even he could feel the overwhelming shock that was rolling off their spectators.  The disbelief and anguish were clear on Skywalker’s face.  A face that was slowly morphing into twisted rage.  Amidala was rigid and pale behind Skywalker, her lips thin and bloodless.  Palpatine laughed and Jason’s bones shuddered.       

Jason and Windu stood shoulder to shoulder, the purple of the Jedi’s blade a radiating extension of Jason’s own swords.  The heavy door behind them burst open, quick footsteps piling in.  Jason watched Palpatine’s lightsaber flicker out and disappear within his robe’s many folds.  Windu’s head snapped to the side, breath stalling in a choked cough.    

“CC-1010, execute Order Sixty-Six,” a benign smile graced the Supreme Chancellor’s face as he withheld Windu’s breath.      

“Affirm…,” the Commander’s voice cut off as a crack and sharp thud echoed through the chamber.  Jason didn’t need to look behind him to know that Rex laid his brother out cold.  Windu inhaled. 

A thick static silence filled the air as Palpatine’s nostrils flared, eyes burning.  Jason let the last of the silence wash over him.  He snapped it, lunging forward, All-Blades crashing against demonic red.  Blaster fire ricocheted around him.  Jason ducked, swords flashing as that humming red blade hissed above his head.  Windu was shoved back by an unseen force and Jason snapped a leg out, his boot connecting with dark robes and air as Palpatine dodged.  Jason lunged after the Sith, All-Blades flashing in a sharp arc, purple filling in Jason’s weak spot as Windu followed.

It was chaos as Jason and Windu tried to press for any advantage.  Sweat was clinging to Jason as his arms strained against what looked like a fragile old man, now a gleefully snarling creature.  Red blaster fire flickered in the corner of Jason’s vision, the occasional green and blue glow following. 

Jason spun, blocked a slash meant for Windu, and Palpatine leapt, flipping in the air as agile as Dick and landing back on the judge’s platform.  Jason barely contained a sharp gasp as Windu leapt up after the Supreme Chancellor, one hand outstretched taking Jason with him.  Jason’s adrenaline spiked at the weightless sensation.  They landed, defensive as they took in Palpatine’s satisfied face.

“Look at your precious Order’s Chosen One, now,” Palpatine tilted his head back down.

Jason didn’t take his eyes off Palpatine.  Windu exhaled beside him, profile grim.  Jason’s jaw tensed and he flicked out a quick hand signal, hoping Roy would catch it.

****

Obi-Wan looked up, Roy was standing with Ahsoka on her separate platform, bow raised and knocked as his eyes tracked the chaos.  Roy’s normally warm, banked Force presence was now an inferno, searing as it burned with righteous intent.  Obi-Wan took a breath and let the heat and light of it lift him.  It was a cleansing balm compared to the riotous darkness that seemed to suffocate everything else.   

Obi-Wan redirected another bolt that came his way just as Roy fired his arrow, a line shooting out as the red-head swung down towards the defendant’s platform, Ahsoka clinging to his side.  The Force snapped at Obi-Wan and his attention was ripped over to where Roy landed.  Anakin was there on his knees, head clutched between his hands, anguish writ clear across his face.

Ahsoka had made it over to Rex, the two working back-to-back to keep the remaining Senators and civilians safe.  Obi-Wan caught a flash of Bail’s robes ushering his colleagues to safety.  Plo holding steady and calm in his defense.

“Come to young Skywalker, you must,” Master Yoda grunted from in front of Anakin and Padmé.

Obi-Wan leapt, lightsaber swinging behind him, and a bolt scorched the durasteel wall as he landed.  Padmé was crouched next to Anakin, one hand on a blaster and the other rubbing up and down his padawan’s back.  Anakin’s eyes were clenched shut, lips trembling.

Obi-Wan and Master Yoda were deflecting blaster fire when the Force screeched in warning around them.  An arrow embedded itself in the paneling above Obi-Wan a moment later, an electrical pulse followed immediately.  The remaining Coruscant Guards dropped where they stood. 

“Dear one,” Obi-Wan knelt in front of his brother as Padmé continued to whisper reassurances, dark eyes pleading with Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan took a calming breath, hands raising to cover Anakin’s own.  Obi-Wan reached out to his padawan through the Force.  Fear reached back, the ground heaved, and the walls rippled.  

Chapter Text

Darkness suffocated Obi-Wan, Anakin’s Force presence, usually so powerful in its heat, was soaked in it. Obi-Wan steadied himself, sealing his mind and solidifying his shields. He reached out to Anakin again, deftly working through the barrage of anguish his padawan was immersed in. Anguish, Obi-Wan realized, that wasn’t Anakin’s own. Obi-Wan recognized those deep fissures, the wells of fierce pain. The Force guided and Obi-Wan followed. He followed the myriad of cracks and pulsating power which clashed with his padawan’s searing Force presence.

Obi-Wan subtly reached out again to Anakin with what, he hoped, was a measure of stability and calm. He had to reach his padawan, he had to help Anakin understand, had to help him let go or Anakin would be overwhelmed, smothered. Jason’s Force presence was not something one should experience alone, not matter how strong in the Force one was. If anything, that was making it more dangerous for Anakin. Combined with the biting betrayal of Palpatine’s machinations, Anakin was spiraling as Obi-Wan reigned in his desperation.

The darkness swelled in the court room. The faint hum and clash of lightsabers tickled the edges of Obi-Wan’s mind. Padmé’s presence pressed against him, rattled, with a faint thrum of something else, something promising. The Force shuddered, Obi-Wan reached for his padawan again, entwining his and Padmé’s presence around Anakin.

“Ani,” Padmé’s voice was steady, cajoling as her hand covered Obi-Wan’s were his lay on Anakin, “come back to me, come back to us.”

“We have you, Anakin, you are not alone,” Obi-Wan touched his forehead to his brother’s, “let the Force flow through you, feel it, acknowledge it, and release.”

Obi-Wan breathed, Padmé following suit. The Force heaved and Anakin screamed.

****

Jason was not having a good time. He would be dead, again, four times over if it weren’t for Windu. Palpatine was an exceptional swordsman, ruthless and efficient. Not a movement out of place or misused. Jason met a slash, All-Blades crackling against the Chancellor’s saber. The back of his neck prickled, Jason was tugged away a moment later, lightening sailing past where he was just a moment before. A purple blade arched forward taking a swathe of black robes. Palpatine snarled, sick yellow eyes boring into Windu with malicious glee.

“Jason,” Windu vaulted back, landing in a crouched, “you need to calm down.”

Jason’s bristled; head tipped towards the Jedi Master. Windu didn’t spare him a glance, body coiled and ready to strike. Palpatine advanced, red blade flashing against the purple of Windu’s. Jason took a breath, violence and the call for vengeance thrumming under his skin.

He continued to breathe; clarity came. Sith were the opposite of the Jedi, they thrived on darkness, on anger, on hate. Driving factors in Jason’s daily life, but not what he needed now. They would only hinder him and give an added boost to the enemy. But vengeance and justice were still available. For the Vode. For the Jedi. For Roy.

A smile crept across Jason’s face as he gripped the All-Blades and lunged forward, Windu dipping out of the way at just the right moment. The All-Blades met the flesh of Palpatine’s thigh, a howl reverberating through the air of the judicial chamber.
Palpatine’s hand shot out and Jason was thrown back, Windu barely catching him as they toppled over the platform’s protective barrier. Jason shot his grapple, shifting Windu’s grip on him to a controlled swing. They landed on the platform with Kenobi, Amidala, Skywalker, and the troll.

Jason scanned the chambers, eyes immediately finding Roy, like a homing beacon. The archer was back-to-back with Rex, Koon and Tano deflecting blaster bolts a little ways in front of them on the opposite side. Senators finally safely evacuated. They briefly made eye contact; green meeting whatever Jason’s eyes decided on. A quick nod and Roy was pulling Rex and Tano away, they would deal with whatever mayhem was going on outside of the judicial chamber. Koon would keep them safe.

Jason turned his attention back to the Jedi surrounding him. Skywalker was on his knees; mouth open as short breaths choked out of him. Kenobi and Amidala were bracketing the man, faces ashen. Blaster fire ceased around them.

“I can save her, my boy,” Palpatine smiled from where he stood above them on the platform, “unlike your mother, we can save Padmé.”

Jason and Windu stepped in sync in front of Skywalker. Blades raised and ready as Palpatine looked down upon them, lightsaber lowered.

“Don’t say her name,” Anakin growled, fists shaking as he gripped Amidala’s skirt, “and don’t talk about my mother.”

Jason glared at the fucker as Windu raised his blade beside him, dark eyes fixed on Palpatine.

“Skywalker,” Jason snapped, “will you cut the shit, you are literally giving him what he wants.”
****
Anakin flinched, body drawing away from Obi-Wan’s touch. The cold duresteel of the platform bit into Obi-Wan’s knees as he shifted to allow his padawan to stand. Anakin was facing Palpatine, Padmé at his shoulder, clutching his mech hand in hers. Obi-Wan shifted to stand in front of them. Master Yoda hopped up on his shoulder not a moment later. Obi-Wan took solace in the Jedi Master’s steady Force presence.

The Force felt heavy, ominous as Palpatine stood above them, the chamber empty except for those on the prosecutor platform. Even Mas Amedda had deserted his master. Caution rippled through the Force. A warning, Obi-Wan would heed, even as Anakin stood in shaking defiance.

“Do you feel it,” Palpatine’s voice echoed and grated as lightning erupted from his fingertips, “the power of the Darkside.”

Obi-Wan raised his lightsaber, catching the lightning even as he staggered where he stood. Anakin surged forward, lightsaber ignited as he propelled himself towards the Chancellor, the Sith. Not a moment later, a chord wrapped itself around Anakin’s ankle, repelling him back down. Anakin landed; face contorted as he turned towards Jason.

“Your eyes are looking a little funky in color,” Jason stated, face still as he unraveled the chord from Anakin’s ankle.

The Force tumbled around Obi-Wan, unsure and chaotic. Obi-Wan breathed. Anakin could come back, would come back. His padawan would be alright, he would find peace. Balance. He had to, Obi-Wan couldn’t fail his brother this badly.
A sharp, cracking sound echoed through the chamber. Obi-Wan looked up, Palpatine’s shoulders shaking as he laughed. Smile wide as he gazed at Anakin.

“Execute Order Sixty-Six,” Palpatine hissed, gold eyes alive with malicious delight as the order echoed through the comm channels.

“That ain’t gonna do shit,” Jason snarled, eyes alight as he pulled out a gun from its holster, firing off shot after shot.

Palpatine staggered, growling as blood spurted from the bullet wounds. Jason flipped him off as he dove to the side, lightning crackling past him.

“You have imposed enough,” Palpatine thundered, red blade flashing as static echoed through the comm units. Obi-Wan breathed with the Force.

Palpatine leapt, black robes billowing as he landed across from Obi-Wan and his fellow Jedi. Mace and Yoda quickly leaped over, blades alight as they engaged the Sith Lord. A quick glance at Padmé and Obi-Wan followed Mace and Yoda.

****

The All-Blades tingled in Jason’s hands as he watched the Jedi Master’s trade blows with the Sith. His soul faintly vibrated with the need to join the fight. But he would have to trust in the three of them. For now, he had another issue to deal with. Jason recalled the All-Blades as he stepped forward, grabbing Skywalker’s shoulder. The man whipped around, eyes wild and flickering between blue and golden yellow.

Jason made brief eye contact with Amidala, the Senator’s mouth tight as she nodded and pushed Skywalker towards Jason. A snarl made its way past Skywalker’s lips. Jason breathed, pushed back the rage that slinked through his mind. He looked at Skywalker.

“I can feel you now,” Skywalker wheezed, breaking his stare with Jason.

“Shit, man, I’m sorry,” Jason’s grip on Skywalker’s shoulder tightened.

No one should have to feel what Jason feels. That’s the whole point of doing what he does. So, no one, no child, no teen, adult, nobody has to feel the helpless rage, the vast emptiness Jason does. Everybody needs someone there for them. Jason wants to be that, is that, in whatever capacity he can be. For Gotham. For wherever he is.

“What are you going to do?” Jason looked into Skywalkers changing eyes. Jason’s eyes flickers to the clash of lightsabers behind the man.

Skywalker’s face collapsed; mouth open on a wracked moan. Padmé wrapped her arms around Skywalker’s shoulders, face pinched as she tucked her head into Skywalker’s neck.

“I don’t know,” Skywalker gulped, “I don’t know…I don’t know what’s right anymore.”

“I’m not asking you what’s right, not according to your Jedi Code,” Jason breathed, voice steady as Anakin turned from Padmé.

“I’m asking you,” Jason’s chest heaved, “what are you ready to lose?”

Skywalker’s blue eyes shut, clenched as he choked back a sob, head shaking back and forth. Jason’s jaw clenched at the man’s denial.

“Are you ready for it to be something you have no chance of getting back?” Jason’s head dipped, voice low.

“They’ll understand, he has to understand” Anakin’s voice broke, eyes skirting to the Jedi fighting behind him and Padmé.

“No,” Jason’s voice caught, “no, they won’t.”

A wounded sound choked out of Skywalker. Jason could see Amidala’s mouth moving, but he couldn’t make out the words. Something placating. Something empty in Jason’s experience.

“They’ll say they will, say they do,” Jason’s hands started to shake, “but it’s a lie. More for them than it is for you. They’ll never look at you the same.”

Amidala’s dark eyes snapped to Jason, accusing. Jason stared just over her shoulder, between her dark hair and Skywalkers sweat soaked shoulder. Blood pounded in his ears.

“They’re not made for it,” Jason stated. He sounded lifeless, head fogged and empty. His eyes trailed back towards Skywalker.

“I just want someone to choose me, to love me, a fraction as much as I love them,” Anakin’s voice cracked, arms tightening around Amidala.

A sharp sound erupted from Jason, harsh and sudden. Jason nodded, smiled as his eyes stung.

“There is always a choice,” Jason shut his eyes, “always a way back. You just have to be open to taking it, and believing you deserve it.”

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan ducked and spun as Palpatine’s red blade swung past his head, clashing with green; Master Yoda having leapt over Obi-Wan’s shoulder.  He risked a quick check on his and Anakin’s bond, the pull too great to resist.  The dark, tumultuous feelings had coalesced.  The bond shuttered and Obi-Wan drew back from the frantic fight with Palpatine, attention turning to his padawan. 

Anakin was kneeling, Padmé staunchly by his side, one hand gripped tight on Anakin’s shoulders, the other held a blaster pointed down and away.  Obi-Wan took in Jason, crouched in front of his padawan, hands on his knees and no swords in sight.  The man’s dark head was bowed, shoulders curved as Anakin’s face crumpled.  The Force swelled and stilled.  Obi-Wan felt Mace and Yoda come to a standstill beside him, chests heaving, weapons raised.  A cold, cracking laugh echoed through the empty chamber of justice.  Obi-Wan reached for his bond with Anakin as the darkness slithered along his mind.  Yoda and Mace’s Force presence brushed along his, Obi-Wan taking as much strength as he could from the other two Masters. 

Obi-Wan gripped his bond with Anakin tight.  He breathed deep, mind centered.  Obi-Wan let all the love he held for Anakin, his brother, swell before pressing it through the bond.  He watched as Anakin’s head snapped up, blue-gold eyes landing unerringly on Obi-Wan.  Obi-Wan’s heart seized.  Muted horror echoed from Anakin, eyes falling to the duresteel platform.  Obi-Wan’s jaw clenched, trembled as shame pulsed through the Force.  Unable to meet his padawan’s eyes, Obi-Wan glanced to the side, virulent green from behind dark lashes clashed with his gaze.  Jason’s eyes flickered beyond Obi-Wan’s shoulder, widened and the Force screeched in warning, too late.

It took a moment for Obi-Wan to feel the acute, burning pain echo through his body.  Obi-Wan twisted, knees collapsing beneath his weight.  Lightsaber falling from his hands.  Rage flooded his bond with Anakin as green and purple lit his blurred vision.  Obi-Wan choked, muscles seizing as he twitched on the unforgiving duresteel floor.  A frenzied scream echoed through the chamber.  The darkness in the Force heightened, a mass forming from where Obi-Wan knew Anakin to be.  That cold laugh sounded again, mocking in its triumph.  Obi-Wan tried to breathe through the ache, stretched his senses to find the light.  Pain arched through his body again.  He could hear the high voice of someone calling his name.  Desperate and devoted.  Obi-Wan opened himself to the currents of the Force. 

****

Jason watched as Kenobi seized under the onslaught of lightning.  Palpatine relentless the moment he could free himself from Master Windu and Master Yoda.  Jason looked back in time to catch Skywalker’s eyes shifting to molten gold.  Familiar rage twisted the man’s features as he stood before Jason.  Skywalkers’ blue lightsaber crackled to life, and he vaulted over Jason’s head.  Jason shifted, crouched as he watched Skywalker land, lightsaber barely blocking Palpatine’s latest volley of lightning. 

“You good here?” Jason stood, rolled his shoulders as he glanced back at Amidala.     

“I can take care of myself,” the Senator replied, eyes never meeting Jason’s, fixed on Skywalker.

Jason barely contained rolling his eyes, he knew that.  It wasn’t a matter of competence, more relative sanity, and safety.  Also, the possible change of view one could have after witnessing someone they love become something they couldn’t abide. 

Jason took a breath, shoulders tense as he turned his attention back to the Jedi.  He couldn’t let it happen.  Jason’s fingers brushed his grapple, comm unit fizzing in his ear as Roy’s voice came through.  Jason paused, head cocked as he listened to Roy give a quick run down of the chaos happening outside the judicial chamber. 

“Your needed out there,” Jason turned back to face Amidala, “our damage control requests it.”

“I can’t leave,” Amidala’s brown eyes barely flickered to Jason, knuckles white where they gripped the blaster. 

“You do know this is what they mean,” Jason gestured to the Jedi, “about attachment.  Letting go for the greater good and all that shit.”

“For the people,” Amidala tilted her chin, gaze locked on Jason as a breath shuddered out of her. 

“All of them,” Jason nodded, eyes shifting down, “especially the ones on their way.”

Amidala’s hand brushed her abdomen, eyes closed.  Jason heard a shocked grunt behind him and the dull thud of a body hitting unforgiving metal.  His neck prickled.  Amidala eyes opened, soft brown widening, and Jason moved.  He lurched forward, one arm wrapping around Amidala as they fell over the side of the platform, right hand coming up with his grapple as he fired off the line.  Arms tightened around his shoulders as he swung, body tucked around Amidala as the ground came rushing towards them. 

“Padmé!” Skywalker’s voice echoed above them as blue and red blades clashed. 

Jason grabbed Amidala’s wrist, pulling her under the gangplank the Jedi and Palpatine were on.  He caught sight of Windu’s body slouched against the rail, arms bent at an odd angle.  Amidala gasped behind him, and Jason looked closer, realizing it wasn’t the angle of the Jedi Master’s arms, it was that he was missing his hands. 

“Fuck,” Jason snapped, whipping around to grab Amidala, “find a maintenance entrance and get out.”          

This time, Amidala didn’t hesitate, and Jason watched her long enough to know she found an exit, disappearing into a discreet maintenance tunnel.  Jason’s grapple whirred in his hand as another line shot out, pulling him back up to the bridge. 

****

Mace was down, wrists cauterized from Palpatine’s lightsaber.  Obi-Wan’s heart hammered, an unsteady beat as his muscles continued to twitch.  His bond with Anakin was frayed, blistering with the onslaught of darkness.  Darkness from both Palpatine and Anakin himself.  Obi-Wan breathed, caught the lightning racing towards Master Yoda with his lightsaber.  Darkness pounded against his shields and Obi-Wan’s body froze, lifted as he was hurled back, colliding with Yoda.  Anakin’s rage and desperation pulsed, unchecked. 

Heavy boots clattered on the duresteel bridge a moment later.  Obi-Wan’s head split from the unbridled chaos leaking out of Jason.  Cracks and fissures warped, unrecognizable in their vast emptiness as the All-Blades sprang forth.  Obi-Wan reached for Master Yoda’s steadfast presence, something to ground him, but came up wanting.  The Grandmaster’s presence flared with pain.  Obi-Wan bolstered himself and offered Yoda what strength he had.

Obi-Wan stood, Jason between him and Anakin.  Palpatine sneered, face alight with malice as his eyes shifted from Anakin to Jason to Obi-Wan.  Anakin’s shoulders heaved, hands shaking as they gripped his lightsaber.  Obi-Wan reached through their bond, giving everything he had.  His support, his pride, his love.  A choked sound escaped Anakin, hands steadying.            

The blue of Anakin’s saber met Palpatine’s in a downward arc, the Force popping as they parted.  Obi-Wan barely caught Jason move, mind hazy as he felt his energy drain.  Jason’s body twisted around Anakin, ducking low as those gleaming copper blades swept up, slicing through dark robes and flesh.  Palpatine screeched, blood spraying from hip to shoulder, coating the duresteel walkway.  The Force snapped in warning.  Obi-Wan reached out, catching Jason as he was tossed back.  The darkness spasmed as Palpatine fell to his knees a moment later, Anakin’s lightsaber hovering under the tip of the Chancellor’s jaw.  Palpatine’s lightsaber rolling away, clattering off the walkway.    

“Well done my boy,” Palpatine smiled, eyes sharp, “you are everything a Sith apprentice should be.”

Obi-Wan took an unsteady step forward, Jason beside him a moment later, gloved hand grasping Obi-Wan’s elbow.  The Force was murky, tense.  Obi-Wan and Jason made their way forward, stopping at Anakin’s shoulder.     

“Padmé?” Anakin didn’t look over, deep gold eyes firmly set on Palpatine.

“Joined damage control outside,” Jason answered, voice even.

“You will not be able to save her,” Palpatine simpered, “no matter what you do, she will die.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jason snarled, All-Blades snaking forward deliberately aimed at Palpatine’s gut.

“No!” Anakin’s saber flashed down, intercepting Jason’s slash.  Obi-Wan felt Jason’s disbelief echo through the Force. 

“A Jedi doesn’t kill an unarmed being,” Anakin stuttered, eyebrows drawn as his eyes flashed to Obi-Wan.

“Oh,” Jason scoffed, “so, now you want to follow the rules.”

Anakin shook as his saber and Jason’s blades remained crossed. 

“Come now, Anakin,” Palpatine cajoled, “do you think they still consider you a Jedi?”

Anakin stumbled back, trembling.  Obi-Wan reached out, hand grasping his padawan’s shoulder.  He felt Anakin flinch but tightened his hold.  He would be there for his brother; however, Anakin needed him.  The Force churned.  Jason’s gaze pierced the side of Anakin’s face.  Obi-Wan stepped forward, chest brushing Anakin’s shoulder.  Jason’s chest expanded and the Force grew quiet.  

“Do you want your kid raised in a galaxy with him?” Jason asked, “will they ever be safe?  Will you ever be safe?”

Wide gold eyes latched on to Obi-Wan for a moment, fear slinking into the Force as Anakin looked away.  Obi-Wan relaxed his grip on Anakin’s shoulder, hand moving down to clasp his padawan’s wrist. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan’s voice was soft, drawing his padawan’s attention to him, “you are my brother, my family, as long as you wish to be.”

“Families, Jedi have had,” Master Yoda’s voice croaked from behind. 

“The Council is not so set in its ways that it doesn’t understand the possible need for reformation,” Mace’s voice was thin, Obi-Wan’s relief at hearing it was staggering. 

A sob tore its way through Anakin, relief and hope pouring into the Force, filling the cracks of Anakin’s presence. 

“Great, air cleared on that,” Jason huffed, “you got any plans for the megalomaniac?”

“He’ll be taken into custody,” Obi-Wan said, a weight settling in his stomach.  The Force flared.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Jason snarled, “custody.  You think anything is going to hold him.  What happens if, no, when, he gets out.  Any destruction he causes will be on your heads.”   

“We are not assassins, we are not murderers,” Obi-Wan stated, voice firm. 

“I am,” Jason snapped. 

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, a sharp retort ready when the Force surged with darkness.  Lightning raced towards Obi-Wan, copper blades catching the searing energy, forcing Jason back into Obi-Wan.  Luminescent blue flashed before Obi-Wan’s eyes, Palpatine’s head was separated from his body a moment later, hitting duresteel with a thump. 

The Force swelled, Obi-Wan braced himself against the shockwaves coursing through the Force.  Obi-Wan watched as Anakin collapsed to his knees, hands clutching his head as Obi-Wan’s padawan screamed.  Obi-Wan and Jason were beside Anakin a moment later, hands grasping as Anakin’s body contorted in pain. 

“Backlash from the darkside,” Yoda’s voice sounded from below them.  

A small, clawed hand reached towards Anakin’s forehead.  Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around Anakin, shifting the larger man in his lap.  Yoda took Jason’s place, the dark head dipping behind Obi-Wan feet striding towards where Obi-Wan knew Mace to be.  Obi-Wan met Yoda’s dark gaze, the Grandmaster reached out through the Force, soothing Anakin as Obi-Wan held his padawan. 

Chapter Text

Waxer woke, head swimming as his fingers dug into soft bedding.  His head throbbed as he opened his eyes, face scrunching at the bright overhead light.  He tried to look around, his training insisted on it, to always be aware of his surroundings.  The bare white walls and low beeping machinery were the only clues he could gather. 

“Easy vod,” a low voice sounded somewhere to his left. 

Waxer twitched, eyes remaining closed as he shifted his arms and legs, twitched his fingers.  Everything seemed to be in order, and nothing hurt.  Nothing, except the crack that seemed to be stretching through his skull.  A groan slipped out of Waxer’s mouth.

“Here vod’ika,” the voice said, and Waxer felt something smooth press against his lips.  A straw.  Waxer took a greedy gulp, water sliding down his throat.  A low chuckle sounded from his side.

“Easy, brain surgery takes a bit out of you,” the voice murmured, it was Cody, Waxer finally made the connection.

“Our brothers?” Waxer wheezed, mouth searching for the straw again. 

“Safe,” Cody stated, “thanks to you.”

Waxer tried to shake his head, wincing at the movement.  It wasn’t just him, he barely did anything.  Dank ferrick, if Jason and Roy hadn’t shown up, who knows what would have happened.  Waxer just did what he could, what any of his brothers would have done.  It took a moment, but Waxer opened his eyes.  Cody was staring at him, face weary but at peace. 

“What happened?” Waxer rasped, settling as his ori’vod sighed, but remained relaxed. 

“You blew the communications tower before the Chancellor could get any orders out,” Cody’s gaze was thankful, full of relief and pride.  Waxer glanced away. 

“There was a squad near the communications center,” Waxer continued, remembering coming upon his brothers.

“You triggered the EMP Harper gave you before they could reach the communications center and the radius of the blast,” Cody nodded, eyes steady, “it knocked you out too.  We found you and took you to medical.  Removed the chip while you were out.” 

Waxer’s chest expanded, body floating as his mind finally caught up with what he had done.  The straw was held to his lips again and Waxer drank. 

“Who else is in medical?” Waxer coughed as Cody took the water away.  The commander hesitated and Waxer tensed, gaze focusing on his vod. 

“General Windu, Fox and the Coruscant Guard,” Cody conceded.  Waxer’s muscles started to relax.

“General Kenobi,” Cody added, voice low.  Waxer’s head snapped to the side, eyes wide on his commander.  Cody’s face was still, practiced in its indifference.  Waxer wanted to throw the water at him. 

“Palpatine is dead,” Cody continued, “he tried to send the order out.  Fox was in the judicial chamber with him.  It didn’t work on anyone outside those chambers.  It didn’t work because of you.”

“Jate,” Waxer huffed.  It was good, at the very least, it was good.  Waxer didn’t know what would happen to the Vode now, but they were safe.  Their Generals and Commanders were safe.  Safe from the Sith.  Safe from the Vode.    

****

Obi-Wan met Master Che’s eyes steadily, willing the Healer to understand he was ready and able to be discharged.  There was so much to do.  The Force was clearer than it had been in years, thrumming with opportunity.  With hope.  He needed to speak with Anakin.  Their bond had been dark, closed off, and jagged with pain anytime something did manage to slip through. 

The Force wrapped around Obi-Wan, Master Che’s calming presence bringing Obi-Wan back to the moment.  Deep blue eyes crinkled with understanding.  Vokara rested a slim hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, steady.  Obi-Wan breathed, centered himself as Vokara took a step back, bringing up his discharge orders.

“You are not to unnecessarily strain yourself,” Master Che tipped her head to glance up at Obi-Wan, “you will most likely experience muscle spasms, I’d give you muscle relaxants if I thought you would take them.” 

Obi-Wan huffed, standing even as his joints protested. 

“There will be scarring,” Vokara continued, voice uncharacteristically soft as her blue eyes trailed over Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan stilled, skin chilled in the sterile air of the Healer’s recovery room.  Vokara reached forward and took his hands, tossing the pad she was holding on the bed Obi-Wan had occupied.  He looked down at their joined hands, eyes trailing over the faint pink puffy lines branching across his knuckles, his fingers, twisting up his wrists. 

“A minor consequence, for what could have been,” Obi-Wan’s lips twitched. 

Master Che’s fingers tightened around his, the Force twinged with sadness and understanding.  Obi-Wan bowed over their joined hands, stepping back as Vokara moved to the side and let him pass. 

“Master Windu is awake,” Vokara’s voice called after him.  Obi-Wan paused and looked over his shoulder, gratitude seeping into the Force.  A small smile graced the head Healer’s face. 

Obi-Wan made his way down the soothing halls, calmness radiated from the Force for all that the Halls were busier than they had possibly ever been.  The Vode being de-chipped as quickly as it was safe.  It was a drastic difference from the last few days.  The pressure had finally cracked, the darkness revealing itself to be at the very heart of the Republic.  Obi-Wan felt the urgency, whether from the Force or his own internal understanding.  It didn’t matter.  The Senate was in disarray, accusations, misinformation, and outright lies flying around.  Even with Palpatine’s machinations come to light, there were still the Separatists to deal with.  General Grievous, Dooku, and Maul could not be left unattended.  Obi-Wan’s pace picked up.  He could only leave Bail alone to weather the uncertainty for so long. 

 Obi-Wan came to a stop outside Mace’s door, mind catching up with the soft voices he could hear from inside.  The Force prodded and Obi-Wan focused, stretching his senses.  Mace’s presence flared, a brief acknowledgement as the Master’s focus turned back to the being in the room with him.  The recovery room door opened for Obi-Wan a moment later and a set of sharp blue-green eyes landed on him.  Obi-Wan paused, eyes on Jason as he searched the Force.  There was barely anything denoting the man’s presence.  Obi-Wan breathed out as he stepped further into the room.

“Yeah, freaks Windu out too,” Jason smirked as he clearly noticed Obi-Wan’s discomfort. 

“Have we determined the reason for it?” Obi-Wan looked at Mace, the other Jedi worn with dark circles beneath his eyes.  But Obi-Wan could see the peace.  The relief, the weight of the darkness lifted. 

“There are facets of the Force we will never know,” Mace said, stern eyes focused on Jason, “were never meant to know.”

Jason snorted, head shaking with a disbelieving smirk.  The abrupt sound and skeptical face broke the somber façade Mace held.  Obi-Wan kept his face calm as Mace glared at the younger man.  Taking a chair against the wall, Obi-Wan lifted it and placed it down next to Mace, opposite Jason. 

“Is Roy alright?” Obi-Wan looked at Jason as he settled himself. 

“He’s fine,” Jason leaned back, arms crossed, “running himself ragged trying to be at everyone’s side once they get their chip removed.”

Obi-Wan felt his chest warm at the thought, eternally grateful the clones had someone like Roy.  Someone who could understand and offer comfort.  

“Ahsoka?” Obi-Wan felt the Force shudder, churn with uncertainty. 

“Tano is with the 501^st,” Mace stated, arms stretched out before him, wrapped in bacta and gauze from wrist to elbow. 

“I would not count on her coming back,” Jason tacked on, ignoring the sharp look from Mace.

Obi-Wan’s eyes dragged over to their dimension traveler.  Certainty was reflected in those violently bi-colored eyes.  Old grief and pain leaked into the Force.  

“That does not mean we will not be here for her, to offer whatever support she needs,” Obi-Wan stated.  The Force echoed the truth.

Jason’s eyes darted away; brow pinched as his fingers shifted against his pants.  The Force tensed with apprehension.  Obi-Wan observed the man across from him.  They were treading an unknown chasm, a wound repeatedly torn open.  Jason empathized with Ahsoka, he knew the cold cut of betrayal.  Obi-Wan’s eyes were drawn to the scar on the man’s neck.  The Force surged with resentment, bitter and festering.   

“Jason,” Mace’s voice was soft, firm as he looked at the young man.

“I don’t owe you shit,” Jason snapped, shoulders tense.

“No, you don’t,” Mace agreed, “but that does not mean it wouldn’t do you good to release some of the burden.”

“Right, cause you Jedi are all about talking about your feelings,” Jason rolled his eyes, face turned away.  Obi-Wan and Mace ignored the jab.  They waited, the Force rising in tension as Jason fidgeted in his seat.     

“I died,” Jason blurted out into the quiet room, “legitimately, buried and everything, but that’s not the point.”

A sharp laugh ripped out of Jason’s chest.  Dark curls bouncing as he shook his head.  Obi-Wan kept silent, aware of the precarious conversation they were having.

“Fuck, can you believe that,” Jason huffed, eyes bright, “my death isn’t even the point.”

Obi-Wan kept his breathing steady, nothing Jason was saying was a lie.  He remembered Palpatine’s interest in the young man, Jason’s own comments in the judicial chamber.  Obi-Wan remembered the scars, the large one bisecting the man’s torso, the Force wept with sorrow.    

“He was my dad,” Jason choked, hands shaking as his fingers caressed his throat, “he was my fucking dad.”

Mace shifted where he lay, straining to sit up, arms twitching towards Jason.  The Force wavered around Jason, splintered.  Obi-Wan opened himself to the encompassing movement.  The dark fissures streaking through Jason rattled, bubbled with agony.        

“I just,” Jason’s breath hitched, “I just don’t want anyone to ever feel like I did.  Weak, helpless, alone.  I want to keep as many people as safe as I can.” 

Jason dropped his head into his hands, fingers clenched in his dark hair.  Obi-Wan winced as scarred fingers raked and rubbed Jason’s face.  The young man’s presence roiled with conflicting emotions.  The cold rage familiar to Obi-Wan, he had felt it in every one of Jason’s fights.  The vast loneliness reverberating through Jason was new, unforeseen.  It seemed to suffocate the rage, swell, and fill the chasms cutting through Jason’s presence.      

“I was supposed to be safe,” Jason’s voice shook, “he was supposed to keep me safe.” 

Mace’s arms wrapped around Jason, pulling the man out of his chair and into the medical bed.  Obi-Wan himself had stood, arm stretched out, hand rubbing Jason’s back where he lay collapsed on Mace.  The Force shook with Jason’s distress. 

“She’s not going to come back,” Jason reaffirmed, voice muffled where his head was tucked into Mace’s shoulder, “she doesn’t feel safe, she doesn’t trust you to take her side.”

Silence permeated through the Force.  That was the crux of the matter.  Jedi followed the will of the Force, as they experienced and interpreted it.  Obi-Wan knew, had experienced the discrepancy himself with Melida/Daan and Master Qui-Gon.  Every Jedi thought they were following the Will of the Force in some way.  But which way was acceptable.  Which way was right.  Which way was just.  It was something the Council needed to discuss.  Obi-Wan caught Mace’s dark eyes, a reformation was in order.  The Force weaved in agreement, lightening with hope.    

Chapter Text

Jason felt raw, hollowed out as he slipped out of Windu’s recovery room.  He hoped, for Tano’s sake, the two Jedi would listen, would take something away from Jason’s choppy explanation.  He shuddered, as he made his way down the hall away from Windu and Kenobi.  Jason let his feet guide him, steps sure even as his heart pounded with uncertainty. 

Jason’s steps slowed as he heard the low but cheerful voices coming from the hall he happened to turn down.  Jason paused outside the open door of another sterile, white recover room.  This one packed with clones, Roy’s red hair the only thing breaking up the uniformity.  Jason stepped closer, reassessed, as he noticed Captain Rex’s blond head turned towards him.  The Captain nodded, face relaxed as he beckoned for Jason to come in.  Jason silently eased his way in, catching Roy’s soft green eyes.  His friend was planted between Boil and a clone Jason didn’t know sitting up in the medical bed. 

“Fox,” the clone called out, head turning to face Jason, dark eyes shrewd, “or CC-1010.”

It clicked before Fox finished.  He was the clone in the Judicial Chamber with them.  The one Palpatine executed the order on.  One of the only successful ones.  Jason nodded and introduced himself, ignoring the knowing look in the man’s deep golden eyes.  Boil waved him over and Jason took the excuse to move towards the soldier, ignoring the looks of the others in the room.  Jason sat at the proffered chair, Roy next to him, a satisfied smile on his face. 

“You look like shit,” Roy murmured as he leaned his shoulder into Jason’s. 

Jason could barely look at his friend, hands still trembling where they rested on his thighs.  Roy reached over, strong hand squeezing Jason’s shoulder.  Jason kept his attention on the soldier in front of him, the tired but satisfied smile a balm on his nerves.  Jason glanced up a moment later, catching Rex’s eyes.   The Captain followed the line of Roy’s arm to where his hand was resting on Jason’s shoulder. 

“Thank you,” Rex’s voice cut through the low sounds of his brothers.  Several pairs of dark eyes landed on Jason. 

Jason jaw clenched, unsure what to say.  He didn’t ask to be brought here, didn’t set out to help these men.  Had Roy not touched some glowing orb, they wouldn’t even be here.  Who knows what would have happened to Rex and his brothers then.  Jason was enough of a realist to know it would not have ended well.  Not with the way things were going when they arrived.  Dread crept up his spine at the thought. 

“Think nothing of it,” Jason said, “we just did what we could.”

“It was more than anyone was doing,” Fox spoke up, “more than the Senate was doing for their ‘good soldiers’, their fighting force.”

“A good soldier,” Jason spat, “like that’s all there is.”

“For them,” Fox’s eyes were steady, “yes.”

Jason’s gut churned, remembered the blank look that came over Fox’s face in the Judicial Chambers.  He glanced at Roy; the red-head’s face grim.  Jason could only imagine what kind of memories this was dragging up for his friend. 

“Where’s Skywalker?” Jason turned to Rex. 

“With Senator Amidala,” Rex didn’t hesitate, eyes flickering towards Jason. 

Jason nodded his thanks, standing with a clap to Roy’s shoulder before heading out the door.  Jason stalked out of the Halls of Healing.  He didn’t know how to hail a cab, or whatever was used here to get from place to place, level to level, but he would figure it out. 

Turned out it was more complicated than he thought, especially when he didn’t have any money or credits in this case.  Jason paced the length of the platform outside the Jedi Temple, agitated.  He’d been there for a while when a low sound came from behind him.  Jason whipped around, fists raised as a leg slid back, body centered.  

Master Plo Koon stood before him; claws clasped.  Jason relaxed his stance, taking in the goggles and mask tilted in consideration.  Koon stepped forward, stopping as he reached Jason.  The sounds of Coruscant faded as Jason continued to hold eye contact.  The hum of the aircraft, sirens, and general cacophony falling away.  Koon nodded after a moment; hand raised as a shuttle came to a stop by the platform.  Jason considered Koon as the Jedi handed over a few credits to the driver. 

“Please, bring him some peace and comfort.  Wisdom too, would not be amiss,” Koon turned towards Jason, bowing.  Jason paused from where he was climbing into the shuttle.  He looked back, eyes falling on Koon’s retreating form. 

The ride was quick, Jason’s mind tracking the various alleys and buildings they passed.  He climbed out as soon as the driver pulled up to a nondescript platform, well cared for and sturdy.  Sirens sounded in the distance.  Jason stopped short as a dark shadow crossed his path.  Skywalker was in front of him, dark cloak billowing in the blow back from the shuttle.      

Jason followed Skywalker silently through the opulent hallways, gilded lights dim creating a soft ambience and deep shadows. 

“I wouldn’t mind going back to not being able to feel you in the Force,” Skywalker muttered as they entered what was clearly Amidala’s apartment. 

The deep luxurious colors were a stark contrast to the feel of the Jedi Temple.  Jason’s eyes trailed over the geometric patterns along the walls, outlined in gold.  He glanced over at Skywalker, took in the man’s worn cloak and scuffed boots.     

“Kenobi and the others don’t seem that bothered by it,” Jason shrugged, jacket creaking with the movement. 

“I have a deeper connection to the Force than them,” Skywalker looked over at him, eyes sharp as his mouth turned down. 

“Of course, you do,” Jason snorted. 

He moved towards the floor to ceiling windows, footsteps muffled in the thick carpet.  The sight of the city skyline was off-putting.  Jason’s lip curled as his eyes searched for any sort of familiarity in the skyline. 

“How’s Amidala?” Jason turned back to face Skywalker, then man barely having moved from the entrance of the room. 

“She’s with the doctor,” Skywalker shuffled where he stood, teeth clenched, “didn’t want me to come with her.”

Jason couldn’t blame the Senator.  Skywalker looked rough, unstable, like he would snap at any sort of stress.  Jason moved back towards the center of the room, ignoring the plush couches in the center. 

“I don’t understand why the Council is even letting me be here,” Skywalker raked a hand through his hair, “why I’m not locked up somewhere.”

“Have you done something illegal in the past few days?” Jason cocked his head as the man moved towards the windows Jason was just occupying. 

Broad dark shoulders hunched, dark blond hair falling forward.  A metal fist raised, and Skywalker knocked it against the window.  The sound was abrupt and sharp in the large room. 

“I’ve Fallen,” Skywalker spat, whirling around, sleepless eyes wide and manic.  Golden. 

“I killed the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic,” Skywalker continued, voice rising in panic, “the Council knows about me and Padmé, the baby.  What else are they going to have to know?”

“Your complete disregard for the oaths you swore to uphold,” Jason drawled, “yeah, it’s all out in the open now, instead of everyone pretending they don’t know.”

Jason ignored Skywalker’s gaping incredulity, the vibrating furniture that surrounded him.  His fingers tingled, the All-Blades buzzing beneath his skin.  Jason took a breath, held it as he felt the blood pound in his ears.  He locked eyes with Skywalker, the Je-Fallen Jedi’s fists clenched as he took a step away from Jason. 

“I have done things,” Skywalker croaked, “things no good person should do.” 

“Do you regret it?” Jason asked.  Skywalker’s golden eyes flinched away, rage warping his features, “I’m going to take that as a no.”

“At least you got to kill the fucker who caused a galactic war as a power grab,” Jason said, “and whose been grooming you to essentially be his enslaved attack dog.”

“I thought he was my friend,” Skywalker took a couple of shaky steps forward, collapsing on the couch, “I though he was the only one who understood me.  It was all a lie.”

“A little worse than a lie,” Jason mumbled as he moved to sit across from Skywalker.

“Look, Skywalker,” Jason took a breath, “Anakin, there’s no going back.  There is a way for you to get what you want, it’s not all lost.”

Skywalker looked up; red rimmed eyes empty as they stared at Jason.  Jason held the man’s eye contact, hands hanging down between his knees.  His fingers brushed the soft material of the couch, nails scratching at the upholstery. 

“Think about what you want,” Jason raised a hand as Skywalker opened his mouth, “and what you’re willing to compromise to get it.”

“I’ve already lost so much,” Skywalker growled. 

“I think you’d be surprised,” Jason huffed and stood, “after all, like you said, you’re not imprisoned.”

Chapter Text

Jason and Roy made their way to the Council Chamber, Cody and Rex walking steadily in front of them, Boil and Waxer behind.  Jason smirked at the familiarity.  The large double doors opened as soon as they made it down the corridor, the Coruscant skyline illuminating the circular chamber with its thousands of twinkling lights.  Cody, Rex, Waxer, and Boil filed into the room, standing off to the side as Jason and Roy headed towards the center. 

It was a full room; additional chairs had been brought in for everyone other than the Jedi Council Members.  Skywalker, Amidala, and Tano were sitting together, a few paces away from Kenobi.  The dark-haired Senator, Bail Organa, if Jason remembered correctly was seated next to Kenobi as well.  Various clones were posted behind their Jedi Generals and Master Che was seated beside Windu, eyeing the man critically. 

“Glowing again, the kyber crystal is,” Master Yoda stood next to a pedestal with the orb perched on top, “home, you must go.”

Jason’s helmet and various weapons were stacked next to the pedestal, Roy’s bow and quiver leaning up against it.  No movement was made for the items yet. 

“We owe you both a debt which can never be repaid,” Windu stated from what looked to be a hovering medical chair.

As one, the surrounding clones snapped to attention, forearms braced against their chests, fists over their hearts.  Jason and Roy looked around the room, making eye contact with each supposedly identical face.  Their military dress uniforms were pristine, and clearly rarely if ever worn. 

“You did not have to get dressed up for us,” Roy smiled.

“It was the least we could do,” the Commander standing behind Koon, Wolffe, spoke up. 

“Grateful to the Force, we are, that it brought you here,” Master Yoda bowed.  The Jedi able to stand did so, following suit.  Jason’s knees locked where he stood, never comfortable with receiving this level of gratitude.         

“The Republic also thanks you,” Bail Organa stood, making his way to stand before Jason and Roy.

“I cannot offer you any medals or awards for your service, as you appear in no records,” the Senator’s dark eyes flitted over to Kenobi, light with amusement, “but know this, should you ever find your way to us again, you will have a friend in Alderaan.”

Jason nodded and held out his hand, Organa reaching forward to clasp his wrist with a firm grip.  Organa turned to clasp hands with Roy before moving to sit back down next to Kenobi.  The two men sharing a slight smile. 

Jason turned to look at Ahsoka, bright blue eyes already fixed on him.  He beckoned her forward after a brief hesitation.  He felt something stirring in his gut, a sense he learned to listen to a long time ago. 

“If you ever find yourself on a planet called Earth, in a city named Gotham,” Jason began, a slight smile tugging at his lips, “find your way to Metropolis and call out for Superman.” 

A chuckle left Roy as he moved past Jason, strong arms wrapping around Ahsoka.  Blue eyes widened over Roy’s shoulder, before she brought her arms up, hands splayed across Roy’s back. 

“That actually goes for any of you,” Roy smiled as he pulled back, green eyes cast around the chamber, “Superman or Wonder Woman.  But, seriously, stay out of Gotham.”

Master Plo Koon stood next, taking Roy’s hands in his claws.  Jason turned, leaving his friend to say his goodbye.  He moved to the pedestal, bending down to pick up his gear and weapons, strapping everything on.  Jason picked up his helmet last, turning to see Kenobi and Amidala behind him.  A glance over their shoulders showed Roy, Koon, and the clones all banded together.  Jason looked down, noticing the more pronounced bump on Amidala.

“It’s twins,” a soft smile fell over her face as a small hand caressed her stomach. 

“They are bright and pure in the Force,” Kenobi didn’t stop the smile that came over his face. 

“Thank you, Jason,” Amidala took his hand, placing it on her stomach, “thank you for saving him, saving them.”

Jason’s eyes burned, his throat clicked as he nodded, removing his hand as Amidala stepped back and turned to walk back to Skywalker.  

“May the Force be with you,” Kenobi cupped Jason’s face, warmth spreading from the man’s palm to Jason’s cheek.

Roy came to stand beside Jason as Kenobi moved away, back to his chair.  The archer had his bow and quiver slung along his back.  Green eyes bright with tears. 

“Good you are, good you will remain,” Master Yoda clacked his stick against the ground. 

Jason felt a rush of gratitude suffuse him.  He looked around the chamber one last time, eyes landing on the hunched form of Skywalker, Amidala’s consoling hand on the man’s knee.   

“My family has a saying,” Jason’s voice caught, “well more of an answer to a question.  What do we do when we fall?”

Skywalker’s wane face lifted, brows raising slightly as his lips trembled.

“We rise.”

Jason and Roy reached out; fingers linked as they reached for the glowing kyber crystal. 

****

The eye watering light faded, Jason blinked, white dots blurring his vision.  The ground felt solid beneath his feet.  Roy’s hand was warm where it was clasped in his.  Jason’s vision cleared; the stasis chamber was before them.  Roy released Jason’s hand, stepping forward and placed the orb back in the soft light of the chamber.

A shout echoed through the cavern, a moment later a bright burning light collided with Roy.  The archer was tackled to the ground before being lifted into the air.      

“Hey Kori,” Jason grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck as Kori wrapped her arms around Roy, squeezing.

“By X’hal,” the Tamaranean exclaimed, dropping Roy, and turning her fiery gaze on Jason.  

“Were you worried about us, princess?” Roy wheezed where he stood, hunched over. 

“Do not be ridiculous,” Kori stated, arms loosely wrapping around Jason’s shoulders, fingers clutched in his jacket.

“At least wait for me next time,” Kori released Jason, brow furrowed as she scolded him.  Jason huffed, flapping his hands towards Roy.  A freckled hand lifted; middle finger stuck up towards Jason’s smirking face. 

“Well, at least you made it back whole,” Kori nodded, brushing her hands along Jason’s shoulders, “I was so very close to calling in help.”

“We stopped a galactic war,” Roy smiled, “and freed a whole army of enslaved clones.”

“You truly should have waited for me,” Kori slapped Jason’s shoulder, hovering above the ground as she moved back towards Roy.

“Princess,” Jason shook his head, smiling as he moved with her, “they would not have been able to handle you.”