Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If there is one thing Anakin knows for certain, it was that space would always be preferable to the ground.

Despite the fact that he was – as his former master often put it – a danger magnet and eternally reckless, there was something to be said for the calm found aboard his cruiser. Having downtime with his men and not being forced to watch any of them die for a war that has gone on for far too long are definitely a bonus. They’ll be returning to the Negotiator soon enough, though, after the 501st and 212th finish up the last messes of their joint assault on Felucia. Like Geonosis, the planet had been used too much by the Separatists for the Senate’s comfort.

“With the amount of times we end up here, we should build a holiday home,” Obi-Wan says drily, coming up to Anakin’s elbow as they both survey the men reorder the tanks ahead of their command centre. There are few squads of droids left, but no one wants to take any chances.

Anakin grins. “Why would we need a holiday home? I’m sure Hondo would love to put us up.”

The scowl he gets from Obi-Wan is expected, but the considering tilt of the head that follows is not.

“Oh no,” Anakin says, regarding his master with something akin to dread. “Please tell me you’re not actually considering it.”

“I might be,” Obi-Wan responds lightly, a flicker of mischief in his eyes. “After all, he does have good alcohol.”

“Alcohol that he used to drug us,” Anakin points out, earning a low snort. “I’m not exactly ready to risk that again.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “You know, you could just admit that you can’t hold your alcohol,” he teases, and Anakin whirls on him in offence.

“It was drugged!” he protests, glaring.

“Hmm,” comes the amused hum. “Yes, I suppose that would affect your tolerance.”

Anakin scoffs, crossing his arms and turning to look back at the men’s progress. The barracks and the command centre are a much better set up than the tents they’d had on Orto Plutonia, but they still lack the basic comforts of Coruscant. He honestly had never expected to eat anything worse than the slave food on Tatooine, but the never-ending supply of bland military rations was certainly giving it a run for its credits.

For once, though, Felucia is relatively quiet, the usual calls of the large wildlife giving way for the occasional sound of shifting machinery. At the very least, Felucia is one of the better planets they’ve been assigned to, the weather far better than having to burn in the desert or slog through torrents of rain.

Before he can continue to appreciate the momentary calm, there’s a hint of something in the force and his head snaps up at the same time as Obi-Wan’s, a split second before the base’s proximity alarm goes off.

“Shavit,” he curses under his breath, reflexively reaching for his saber and running towards the command centre, sliding through the doors with Obi-Wan hot on his heels.

“Generals,” Rex greets them tightly, expression grim. “There’s another line of droids approaching. Cody’s scouting squad is going to try and circle them, but we’ll still need to hold down the base until he can.”

“I’ll go help,” Anakin decides, getting a quick nod from Obi-Wan before turning on his heel and heading back out the way he came. Jesse and Fives are standing near where the speeders are, ready to go, and Anakin jerks his head to tell them to come with.

Fives snaps of a sarcastic salute as he swings a leg over the speeder. “Back to the front lines, eh, General?”

“More like the back lines,” Anakin mutters, flicking the ignition and steering the speeder towards a break in the line of flora, his man following behind him. There’s a tracker installed in all the mens’ comms, and Anakin zeroes in on Cody’s blinking beacon as he turns to head south, aiming to meet up with him just behind the main body of the Separatist forces.

The plants and trees of Felucia fly by as continues forward, the not-so-distant sound of blaster fire echoing in his ears. A lifetime ago, when he was only used to the blue of the sky breaking up the monotony of yellow and beige, he wouldn’t have believed how much colour the galaxy had. As much as he loves space, feels secure there, he has to admit that visiting as many planets as he can has always been a dream of his.

The blinking of Cody’s beacon gets more persistent and he stretches out with his senses, noting the group of six men in the trees ahead of them, moving forward towards where the sound of battle droids starts. Hopping off his speeder with Fives and Jesse behind him, Anakin ducks through the tall grass to join with Cody’s scouting group, the commander meeting him with a sharp nod.

“What’s the situation, Commander?” Anakin asks, glancing over at the others forming up behind them, Waxer and Boil neck and neck as usual.

“The clankers are less than half a click ahead of us,” Cody reports, nodding ahead and giving the signal to move. “We counted about five squadrons. We’re going to cut off their retreat so they can’t turn and flank us from either side.”

“Got it,” Anakin confirms. “Alright men, let’s –”

He’s cut off by a high pitched whine, shielding his eyes as a bright flash comes from up ahead, pushing back at the trees before disappearing suddenly, leaving silence behind in its wake. The Force hums, spiking strongly, and Anakin takes off towards the source of the light, ignoring the shouts of his men behind him. There’s something there, he feels it, something he needs to find.

His boots skid to a halt in the newly-formed clearing right where the tail end of the Separatist line begins, plants flattened and at least twenty battle droids dismantled as if by an explosion.

And, in the centre of the clearing with the waves of destruction spreading out from a single point, sits the trembling form of a boy. Anakin can’t help the sharp intake of breath he takes at the sight.

The boy’s head whips up, blond hair flying like a halo around his lightly tanned face and the bluest eyes Anakin thinks he’s ever seen. The kid is young, he’d probably still be in the crèche if he were at the temple, but behind the fear he’s obviously trying to keep hidden there’s an uncomfortably familiar spark of determination.

He and Anakin stare at each other, the Force circling them both as if trying to point out something important, but before he can look into it further the sounds of footsteps ring out and the rest of the men catch up to him.

The boy stares at them warily, crouched on the ground surrounded by battle droid parts, his posture defensive and ready to bolt.

“Uh, General?” he hears one of the men ask, and Cody comes up beside him, the same bewilderment at the situation resonating from his stance. “Why is there a tubie on the battlefield?”

“That’s exactly what I’d like to know, Commander,” Anakin responds absentmindedly, still focusing on the Force tendrils wrapping around the boy, the sense of important familiar unknown pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

“Osik,” Cody mutters under his breath, a sentiment Anakin wholly agrees with. He reaches up to take his helmet off, stepping a little closer to the boy. “Hey, kid –”

The boy’s eyes light up the moment the helmet is off, tracing the scar on Cody’s temple and then scrambling to his feet.

“Uncle Cody!” his voice carries delight and clear relief, and before Anakin can blink the kid is barrelling forward, Cody barely catching him as he flings his tiny body towards the clone. “You’re back!”

“Uh,” Cody stammers out, and yeah, Anakin can get on board with that sentiment.

Chapter Text

Any other moment, the sight of the normally stoic and put-together commander panicking at holding a small child would have sent Anakin into a fit of hysterics. Now, though, with battle fire up ahead and a boy clinging to Cody’s arms after appearing from – what, an explosion? A rift? He’s not sure how to categorize it. At any rate, the time for humour will come later.

“Jesse,” he barks out, watching the man’s gaze snap away from the commander and child. “Take the men. Cut off the droid attack from the back like planned. Keep to the trees so they can’t aim at you.”

“Sir,” the trooper gets out obediently, even as the curious edge to his eyes never falls. Regardless, he makes the signal to move out, and in a brief matter of seconds the clearing is empty save for Anakin, Cody, and the boy, who looks as if he’s glued to Cody’s figure.

Cody, for all intents and purposes, appears to have put his normal competence behind him and is currently staring at Anakin with wide eyes, a tinge of fear laced in with the confusion. It’s fair enough, most troopers aren’t used to being around children at all, but especially not ones who appear in the middle of a battle field and call out their name with such familiarity. With a sigh, Anakin figures he’s going to have to take the lead with this one.

Putting his lightsaber back on his belt, he takes a step closer to where the other two are, watching as a hint of blue flashes to stare at his movements. Purposefully, he stills, arms extended from his sides so as not to spook the boy further. “Hey, buddy,” he calls out softly, and now both Cody and the child are watching him with apprehension. “What are you doing out here?”

“‘M not supposed to talk to strangers,” the boy mutters, eyes wary from where they peek out of Cody’s neck.

“That’s good advice,” Anakin agrees readily, dropping to a crouch so he can try and be less intimidating to a small child. “But I’m not a stranger, am I? I’m friends with – uh, with your Uncle Cody.”

The boy squints suspiciously at him, then turns his gaze to Cody, searching for an answer. Cody just nods helplessly and sets the boy on the ground, letting out a small oof as the boy immediately grabs onto his legs and ducks behind him. His face peers out from behind Cody’s thighs, sizing Anakin up, and he waits patiently as the boy seems to make his assessment.

“Don’t know,” comes the words eventually, voice soft and nervous and fingers clutching at the edges of Cody’s armour plates.

Anakin frowns. “You don’t know?” he repeats incredulously. “Okay, yeah, right. Um, can you tell me what you were doing right before you ended up here?”

The boy blinks at him slowly, gaze immediately searching out Cody’s as if to find a familiar presence to reassure him. In same helpless way as before, the man nods again, earning himself a nod from the boy in return as he edges out just slightly from behind Cody’s legs, fingers still tight on the armour.

“I was hiding,” he says eventually, voice a bit more steady than before.

“Hiding,” Anakin echoes back, a bit concerned as to why the child needed to hide. From the battle droids, perhaps?

“Yeah.” The boy tilts his head a little. “Uncle Ben was doing a per’meter check, so I have to stay hidden ‘till he’s done.”

Anakin frowns. “You mean a perimeter check?” he asks, just to confirm.

The boy nods again. “Yeah, that. I have to wait until he’s done and it’s safe to come out.”

“Alright,” Anakin confirms, running over the words in his head. So, at the very least, there’s another man named Ben out there probably looking for his lost child, and likely a clone who has a similar scar to Cody’s. The clones all look identical, the boy is probably just confused. “Alright,” he says again. “So, if your, uh, Uncle Ben was doing a perimeter check and you were hiding, what was Cody doing?”

“Getting supplies,” the boy answers promptly, looking up at the commander with a smile. “But he said he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow at least! Uncle Ben will be so happy you’re back early.”

At that, Cody looks even more lost than before, and Anakin decides it’s time to clear things up. He doesn’t want to lose the tentative trust he’s built with the boy, but in order to get him back to his actual guardians, he’ll need to know where they are.

“Okay, kiddo,” he starts. “Can I ask you how you know this is your Uncle Cody?”

The boy looks at him in confusion, and yeah, he gets it, it’s a weird question to ask, but he needs to know.

“It’s him,” the boy insists, clinging onto the commander’s leg even tighter than before. “It’s him. He’s got the same scar over his eye and he feels the same.”

Anakin frowns. “Feels the same?”

“Yeah.” The boy shrugs, pointing to his forehead. “Up here. He feels like he always does.” There’s a brief second of confusion, and his gaze tilts upwards towards Cody again. “Um, but he usually is much happier to see me.”

“Feels the same,” Anakin breathes out again, and the Force is pulling him still, the tendrils snaking out around the boy in curving threads. “Feels the same… oh.”

He has to look for it, whoever built up the shields around the boy’s mind must be very strong, but even with that it’s impossible not to notice the sheer light the boy exudes from every corner. He’s bright, so bright it’s like looking into a sun, but the edges are rough and he’s clearly only had the absolute basics of Force training. There’s no way he was raised at the Temple, and with all the talk about safety and staying hidden, maybe there’s a reason for that. Had he purposefully been being kept away from the Jedi?

“You feel him too, right?” the boy asks, snapping Anakin back into the present as he’s met with curious blue eyes. “I can feel you too. It’s funny, I think I’m supposed to know you.”

“I think I’m supposed to know you too,” Anakin responds, throat dry as the thrumming of familiar familiar familiar reverberates around them. He and the boy stare at each other for another minute, gazes locked, until Cody shifts and reminds Anakin that they’re not alone. “Right, okay. So, you know this is your Uncle Cody because you can feel him,” he sums up, watching the boy nod in confirmation. “Uh. Alright. Okay. So, um, how exactly do you know Cody?”

The boy’s eyes narrow. “I thought you said he was your friend,” he says suspiciously, and Anakin hurries to nod.

“Oh, yeah, he is,” Anakin says quickly, Cody nodding hesitantly when the boy looks up at him. “But, uh, last time I saw him, he didn’t have you with him.”

“Oh…” the boy sighs slowly, only for his eyes to widen suddenly. “Wait, are you one of his old friends? Like, from the war?”

“The war, yes,” Anakin gets out, grasping gratefully at the hint. “Yeah, definitely from the war. We’ve fought together many times.”

The boy gapes. “Wizard,” he says, one of his hands releasing Cody’s thigh plate to flap excitedly at his side. “I didn’t know he had any friends left! He’s told me loads of stories about the war, but we’ve never met any of his friends. He says they’re all dead.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath, and Cody’s eyes snap downwards to the boy at his feet, the matter-of-fact tone he had used to say they’re all dead still ringing about the newly-formed clearing.

“Kid,” Cody says hoarsely, the first time he’s managed to speak up so far. “Are you, uh, talking about stories from the Clone Wars?”

“Yeah!” the boy nods happily. “You and Uncle Ben tell me stories all the time.” He frowns a little. “Sometimes I think it makes you sad, though. I think you miss everyone.”

Cody chokes. “I’m sure I do.”

“And, um, your Uncle Ben,” Anakin interjects, trying to steer the conversation back to a safer place. “You said he fought in the war too. Did he know Cody then?”

The kid nods enthusiastically. “Oh yeah. Uncle Ben always says he wouldn’t have survived without Uncle Cody. I think he called him his commander?”

This time, both Cody and Anakin freeze, locking eyes with each other before they turn in unison towards the boy, who’s blinking at them in confusion. “Would you happen to know your Uncle Ben’s surname?” Anakin asks carefully, hoping that he’s wrong but a sinking feeling in his stomach points to him being right.

The boy wrinkles his nose. “What’s a surname?”

“It’s another word for last name, kid,” Cody answers, eyes still wide in shock.

“Oh,” the boy breathes out. “Yeah. We’re not s’posed to use it though. It could get us into trouble. Uncle Ben always says that Kenobi is one of the most dangerous names to have in the galaxy, although mine is worse.”

It’s the confirmation they need, and Anakin’s joints are so tense that he knows he’s going to have an ache in them for days, even as he watches Cody mouth the word ‘Kenobi’ in something akin to horror. Then, the second half of the boy’s sentence catches up to him. “You said your name is worse,” he says slowly, the boy nodding hesitantly. “Can you tell me what your name is?”

“‘M Luke,” the kid responds, his eyes narrowing in the next heartbeat. “I can’t tell you my last name. Uncle Ben says I can’t tell anybody, not even Uncle Cody’s friends.”

Anakin nods, carefully filing the information away to see if they can get it out of him later. “Alright, Luke,” he says instead. “I think we’ve gone about this all backwards. It’s very nice to meet you, I’m –”

A beeping noise cuts him off, and both Anakin and Luke look up from their lower positions to Cody’s comm, going off on his wrist until he grimaces and taps a button. At once, they hear Rex’ voice come through.

“Hey, vod,” he starts, his voice tired but satisfied. “We’ve routed the Separatist troops – what’s left of them, anyways. Jesse says you and the General stayed behind, but just giving you a heads up that the base is secure. General Kenobi wants you two back so you can debrief before figuring out a plan to finish up.”

“General Kenobi?” Luke pipes up, scrambling to the front of Cody’s legs. “Uncle Ben’s here? Did he finish the check?”

There’s silence for a moment at the other end of the line, and Anakin winces.

“Is… is that a kid?” Rex asks, voice heavy with disbelief.

Luckily, whatever fugue Cody has been stuck in the last while seems to lift, and he glances as Anakin before raising his comm to his mouth to reply. “It’s a long story,” he says succinctly. “We’ll explain back at base. The General and I will get going now. I’ll let you know when we arrive.”

“But –” Rex starts to say, but Cody taps the comm again and it goes silent. Instead, he squares his jaw and looks over at Anakin, who nods with a slight quirk to his lips.

“I guess we’ll go get the speeders,” he quips, and Cody huffs out a laugh.

“Guess so,” he responds, then looks down at the boy attached to his leg while Anakin rises to his feet. “What do you say, ad’ika? Want to ride a speeder back to base with us?”

Luke’s eyes flicker to Anakin hesitantly, before a small smile takes over his face. “Will Uncle Ben be there?” he asks. “And can I drive?”

Cody snorts. “Yes, he will be, and no, you can’t,” comes the succinct answer, the boy pouting in response even as Cody hoists him back up onto his hip and grabs his discarded helmet. Anakin can’t help but try to fight a smile at the boy’s obvious disappointment, clearly upset about not getting his way. He must be at least a little used to it, though, as evidenced by how little of a fight he puts up. Then again, Cody has a way with instilling obedience. Even Anakin sometimes feels like a naughty kid when he’s on the receiving end of his disapproving glare.

Luke’s pout remains in place right up until the speeders are actually in sight, at which point his eyes light up and jaw drops open in awe.

“They’re so shiny,” he breathes out, reaching a hand out from where it was tucked against Cody’s shoulder, lightly brushing across the handles. “I’ve never seen a shiny speeder. We only get the old ones because they’re cheaper and draw less attention, ‘parently.”

Cody and Anakin lock eyes over the kid’s head, and both of them seem to have come to the same, if rather impossible, conclusion. Neither one is even willing to voice the words time travel out loud, but at this point, unless Luke is living in a fantasy world or Anakin and Cody have stumbled head first into a shared delusion, there’s not really much else that makes sense. Unless it’s a parallel universe, and yeah, Anakin is going to stop thinking about that now. He’s going to get a headache running through all the Force nonsense hypotheticals, and he is supposed to be the Chosen One. They’ll leave it to Obi-Wan to do the actual philosophizing about the current situation.

Whatever the current situation is, however, they’re going to have to wait to discuss it until they’re actually back at base. Right now, they’re still stuck standing next to the speeders, watching as Luke wriggles in Cody’s arms in awe at the sight.

Eventually, Cody clears his throat and snaps Luke out of his reverie, blue eyes blinking up at him in annoyance from being pulled away from his little staring match. “Alright, kid,” Cody says gruffly, swinging the boy with a practised ease that contradicts his inexperience onto the front of the speeder bike, earning a squeal that Anakin is unsure is more to do with the sudden movement or actually sitting on the vehicle. “We’re gonna drive back to base now. You’ll ride with me, and you can hold on to this bar –” he taps the middle piece of the speeder bike’s handles, “– but nothing else. Got it?” His finger is pointing firmly at Luke, and Anakin has to repress a laugh at the way Luke nods dutifully at the commander’s firm expression. He doesn’t hide it well enough, though, if the way Cody glares at him is any indication. “Alright,” Cody continues eventually, swinging a leg over the seat so that he’s positioned just behind the boy, slipping his helmet back on. “General?”

“What? Oh, yeah.” Anakin blinks, reminded of what they’re doing, and clambers onto his own speeder with significantly less grace than usual. Cody is watching him with something like thinly-veiled disappointed evident even from behind the helmet, and Anakin curses internally that the Force decided to pair Marshall Commander Cody and High General Obi-Wan Kenobi together. He’s not sure if he’ll ever survive the combined heat of their glares.

“No,” Cody barks out suddenly, and Anakin is startled for a brief second before he sees the commander’s hand remove Luke’s fingers from where they were just about to touch the ignition button. The epic pout is back, round blue eyes gazing up pleadingly, and Anakin is impressed that Cody doesn’t even quail to that look. Evidently, dealing with the younger clones has had its impact. He wonders if Cody’s parental instincts are just as strong when he’s dealing with Luke from whenever he came from – and nope, it’s not time to deal with that particular issue just yet.

Thankfully, he manages to distract himself from the thought by firing up his speeder just a split second before Cody does – not Luke, much to the boy’s clear chagrin – and the two of them kick off the ground in a tight circle so they can make their way back to base.

Luke’s pout is wiped away only to be replaced by an expression of pure glee as the wind whips against his face, the flora of Felucia speeding by, and Anakin grins a little at the obvious excitement radiating through the Force. He vows to himself to get the kid onto a ship sooner or later, because if Cody and Obi-Wan suddenly get to be uncles then obviously he’s going to weasel into that spot as well. He doesn’t get to see Pooja and Ryoo that often, and even when he does they’re usually too enraptured by Padmé to be taken with him, not that he can exactly blame them. He’s guilty of the same thing, after all.

The ride back to base is silent, no more blaster fire cutting up the monotony of the drive, and for once, Anakin is grateful. He’s never been happy about having kids on a battle field, some of the padawans were too young already, and he doesn’t really want a – how old is Luke exactly? Five, six? His vocabulary seems strong enough, despite the few slip ups, so he’s definitely not a toddler, but he’s still small and seems to fire up the protective instincts in both Anakin and Cody. Then again, if he had been raised by Obi-Wan and Cody, Anakin would be more surprised if his speaking was less refined. Those two would manage to raise a tiny diplomat, no questions asked.

The closer they got to the base, the wider Luke’s eyes got, and Anakin had to remind himself that not everyone was used to the general mayhem and chaos that constituted a military base on the front lines. No matter what happened, he knew, this was going to be a steep learning curve for all of them.

Appo is waiting for them as they pulled up, and word must have already spread about the kid because he didn’t even seem surprised to see him. Without a doubt, Jesse and Fives had already been shouting about it to anyone who would listen, and if what he remembers of Waxer is right, the clone would probably have been swooning about the chance to gush over another child.

“General,” Appo greets as they hop off of the speeders, curious gaze falling onto Luke. “Commander. General Kenobi and Captain Rex are waiting for you in the command centre. I think Lieutenant Boil already appraised them of the… situation.”

“Can we go see Uncle Ben now?” Luke asks, tugging on Cody’s fingers from where he’s remained closely glued to the man’s side. Appo raises his eyebrow at the statement, glancing at his General for answers, but all Anakin can do for now is shrug and give a little shake of his head. He knows for a fact that Appo is going to rush off to update everyone about the kid, and that as soon as they figure out how the kriff Luke ended up here, all the troopers are going to be falling all over themselves to line up as more of his uncles. If Cody gets to be one, similar to Anakin’s train of thought, they’ll all feel entitled to as well. He knows his men.

“Yeah, ad’ika,” Cody responds to the boy in question, and Anakin snorts as Appo’s other eyebrow raises to join the first at the clear affection already present in the commander’s voice. It’s evident for all to see that Cody has decided Luke is his now.

Luke, for his part, seems to be getting impatient with the waiting and tugs on Cody’s fingers again, eyes flickering to the door of the command centre. Anakin wonders how he knows where it is, until he remembers what the boy had said about feeling Cody. He can probably feel Obi-Wan as well.

“Alright, kiddo,” Anakin says, grinning as the boy looks up at him. “Let’s go see Uncle Ben. I can’t wait to see his face.”

“Sir,” Cody sighs admonishingly, but deep down, Anakin knows he’s secretly amused at the prospect as well. It’s not every day that one gets to see the Great Negotiator lost for words.

“Okay, okay,” Anakin chuckles, glancing over at his trooper as he begins to lead the way to the door. “Thanks, Appo. Tell the men to take a break. I think we’ve all earned it.”

The trooper snaps off a quick salute before hurrying away, and Anakin moves to catch up to where Luke has already dragged Cody over to the door, waiting impatiently as the commander inputs his access code. The light flickers green and the door slides open, Luke rushing inside only to stop and freeze at the sight in front of him.

“You cut your hair,” is the first thing he says, words vaguely accusing as he takes in Obi-Wan, who’s staring back at the boy with a look of the utmost confusion. Luke drags his eyes around the rest of the room before settling back on Obi-Wan, frown deepening. “And you changed your clothes. Did you do that during the check?”

“Um,” Obi-Wan gets out, much in the same way his commander had earlier. “I… no, I did not. I’ve looked like this for a while?” He stares at Anakin questioningly, and Anakin smirks a little at the perplexed expression on his former master’s face.

“No you didn’t,” Luke denies immediately. “You normally have darker clothes on. And your hair is longer. And it has more grey.” He pauses, crossing his arms. “Are you in disguise, Uncle Ben? Do we have to hide again?”

If anything, that makes Obi-Wan even more confused, and Anakin decides it’s time to put the man out of his misery and step in. “This is Luke,” he introduces, and the boy glances up at him in confusion. It takes him a second to realize that Luke probably doesn’t understand why he’s introducing him to a man who he’s clearly so close to. “And, well, he just sort of… appeared?”

“Appeared,” Obi-Wan repeats flatly, then turns his eyes to the ceiling as if to beg for help. “I see. And he knows me? And Cody?”

“Oh, yeah,” Anakin nods, amused at the whole situation. Even Rex looks like he’s fighting a grin, despite clearly being just as out of the loop as Obi-Wan. “You and Cody are his uncles. And you’ve been doing a pretty good job with him, if you ask me, although I’m a little concerned as to why all Cody’s friends are dead and you have to go into hiding.”

Obi-Wan looks like he’s about to wring Anakin’s neck at the blunt statement, and his hands creep under the edges of his sleeves as he closes his eyes and sighs. “Anakin…”

Suddenly, there’s a squeak from the middle of the room.

“Wait, your name is Anakin?” Luke asks, blue eyes wide with wonder as he stares up at the man, wiggling in excitement. Anakin nods, hesitantly, and is at once rewarded with a beaming smile. “That’s my dad’s name!” the kid announces, proud as he can be, and everyone in the room freezes even while Anakin feels like he’s on fire as the boy squints at him, all the previous amusement draining out of his body as he tenses, waiting for the next words. “I know you’re not him, though. He and my mommy died when I was a baby.”

There it is. The tension in the room rockets up even further.

Anakin stares at the boy who, yeah, alright, does kind of look like he used to. “Uh,” he stutters out, and briefly wishes it was back to just Cody saying that this time.

Chapter Text

The silence lasts for about a full minute, Luke standing still in the middle of it all with a half-excited, half-confused expression on his face. He doesn’t seem to understand why the adults in the room have all frozen still, and Force, Anakin wishes he could be the same.

“‘Train the boy,’ Qui-Gon said,” Obi-Wan mutters, left eye twitching, “‘It will be fine,’ he said. I am not nearly drunk enough to deal with this.”

“Maybe we should save the drinking until after we’ve figured this out,” Cody says rationally, stepping forward to put his blaster and helmet on the holo table. “We need to figure out where – and when – Luke came from so we know how to send him back.”

“Send me back?” Luke echoes questioningly, gaze raking over Obi-Wan again as the cogs in his brain turn almost audibly in the quiet of the command centre. “You’re not my uncles, are you?” His voice has gotten soft, resigned, and Anakin is quick to note the hint of panic hidden in the boy’s tone.

As fast as he can, he’s crouched in front of Luke with his hands on the boy’s shoulders, hoping to prevent him from hyperventilating. “Hey, hey,” he tries soothingly. “Look, they – uh, well, they may not be your uncles now, but I guess they are in… in the future,” he manages to get out, stumbling over his words as he attempts to figure out what to say. “They’re still the same people, yeah? And hey,” he grins at the boy whose breathing has calmed down a little. “Think of it this way: you told me they told you a bunch of stories about the Clone Wars, right?” Anakin waits until Luke nods slowly in confirmation. “Well, then, you’re just going to live in one of those stories for a bit.” The boy sniffles, reaching up to wipe his nose with the back of his hand even as he nods. “You’ll be having an adventure, and your uncles will be right here with you the whole time. Even if they aren’t as old and decrepit as you remember.” That finally draws out a little giggle from Luke, and Anakin smiles at him even as Obi-Wan and Cody glare.

“Well, would you look at that,” drawls a voice, and Anakin blinks over at his captain, who’s watching them both with a broad smirk. “Not even an hour and the dad instincts are kicking in.”

Anakin splutters at the words, abruptly reminded of who exactly Luke is – they think, they’ll be sure to have Kix run a genetic test to be sure – and Obi-Wan heaves out a heavy sigh.

“For kriff’s sake,” he mutters, and Anakin is about to remind him about the child in the room before thinking better of it. No need to give Rex more material to use against him. “You know, I never expected you to be subtle,” Obi-Wan continues what’s shaping up to be a fine little tirade. “Or careful. Senator Amidala on the other hand… did you rub off on her?” he raises a hand at Anakin’s smirk, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “No. No. Just… don’t. I can’t believe you passed your terrible habits onto your girlfriend.”

“Wife, actually,” Anakin corrects, his mind seeming to go hazy as he beings to suspect that maybe this is all just a hallucination.

Obi-Wan drops his hand and stares at him in disbelief, as if his gaze alone can change the situation. “Wife,” he mutters bitterly. “Of course. Because of course you’d think it would be fine to get married and have a child in the middle of a war!”

Anakin shakes his head vehemently. “Hey, wait a minute!” he protests, lifting his hands into the air appeasingly. “We don’t know that Luke was born during the war, he might have been –” a thought crosses his mind then and he frowns, looking back at the boy. “– actually, wait. Luke, how old are you? And what year is it?”

“Six AFE,” Luke responds, his voice laced with confusion. “I’m six. Uncle Ben says I was born the same day as Empire Day.”

“Empire Day…” Anakin breathes out, thinking over the few Galactic holidays he knows and coming up blank. “Okay, never mind. That didn’t help us. But hey, we’ve still got time!” Cody and Obi-Wan both give him incredulous looks, and Rex seems about ready to burst out laughing at any moment.

“Mr. Anakin,” comes Luke’s timid voice, cutting through the thoughts running rampant across his mind, and Anakin nods slowly, waiting for him to continue. “Am – you said you had time. Am I in the Clone Wars?”

Anakin isn’t entirely sure how to explain the concept of time travel concisely to a six-year-old, but luckily for him Cody demonstrates another display of competence by responding for him.

“You are, ad’ika,” he says as gently as he can, crouching like Anakin is doing to be at the boy’s height. “I don’t know how you got here, but we’re going to do everything we can to get you back to your uncles, okay?” Luke nods hesitantly, and Cody sighs a little before reaching out to grab the boy’s hand. “I promise,” he says softly. “And until we can, we’re gonna keep you safe, and get to know you a little bit better. Is that okay? Will you stay with us until we can get you back?” Luke nods again, the tear tracks on his cheeks slowly drying up as he does, and it seems like the whole room lets out a sigh of relief.

“So,” Luke starts eventually, voice wobbly. “Does that mean you’re still my Uncle Cody?”

Cody smiles, lighter than Anakin thinks he’s ever seen it. “Of course,” he confirms. “Just a bit younger than how you know me.”

Luke nods, seeming to come to a decision as he looks over Cody one more time before turning back to Anakin. “Are you –” he chokes a little. “Mr. Anakin, does that make you my dad?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says decisively, finally deciding to join in. “And trust me, we will be having a long conversation about that later.” Anakin gulps at the strength of the glare he receives, one that hasn’t been that intense since he set the Temple gardens on fire trying to re-wire the sprinkler system. “That’s your father, Luke. And since he brought you into this galaxy, I’m sure he’ll be very willing to tell you everything you want to know.”

Anakin tries for a smile when Luke turns to him with wide, expectant eyes. “Yeah,” he chokes out after a few seconds. “‘Course. But first, uh, maybe we should try and find out how he’s here?”

“Hmm.” Obi-Wan hums as he strokes his beard, eyes narrowed.

“I hate to say it, sir, but Skywalker is right,” Cody pipes up, not flinching when his general turns the heat of his gaze onto him. “The more we know, the faster we’ll be able to get Luke back to - well, to his own time.”

There’s a few tense seconds of consideration before Obi-Wan finally concedes, nodding his head and slipping back into a more neutral expression that immediately makes everyone in the room relax a bit. “I suppose you’re right,” he agrees, then turns to where Luke is watching him carefully. “Luke, Anakin said, well, he said that Cody and I are your uncles? And that –” he chokes, then closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “– and, that your parents are… are dead?”

Luke nods slowly, eyes glancing over at Anakin nervously. “Yeah,” he confirms, voice quiet. “You – uh, I mean, Uncle Ben said they died when I was a baby. He promised them he’d take good care of me.”

“I’m sure he has been,” Rex says softly, while Obi-Wan and Anakin still seem stuck on the whole dead part of the conversation.

Luke nods again, eyes raking over Rex before glancing back to Cody. “Are… are you one of Uncle Cody’s brothers?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Rex laughs proudly, shooting Cody a look that radiates smugness. “His favourite one, actually. It’s nice to meet you, Luke, I’m Rex.”

“You’re Rex?!” Luke gasps out, eyes wide with what Anakin suspects is a bit of hero-worship. And no, he’s definitely not jealous that his own son seems more enamoured with everyone else other than him. “I’ve heard stories about you! Did you really get thrown off a lot of buildings?”

Rex’ expression immediately sours, and Anakin can’t help but snort at the glare that gets shot his way. “He definitely did,” he confirms, grinning up at his captain who is evidently now feeling the same betrayal Anakin had felt. “Hey, bud, maybe while you’re here you can help me throw him off another one!”

Luke’s eyes get even wider at the prospect, and Rex seems torn between committing homicide and treason by murdering his general or bowing to the whims of the six-year-old child staring up at him pleadingly. Hell, even Anakin had never quite managed to perfect that pitiful round-eyed gaze. He just knows that handling Luke is a nightmare no matter who his guardians are.

“Before we throw Rex here off of any buildings,” Cody interjects drily, earning his own dirty look sent his way by his brother. “I think we need to sort out some more things first. Can you help us with that, Luke?” He waits for the boy to nod, returning one of his own, before continuing. “Alright. You said that your parents, well, that they died,” he says, ignoring the winces coming from the rest of the room’s occupants. “Can you tell us what you know about that?”

“I don’t know a lot,” Luke admits timidly, nervously fiddling with the seam of his shirt as he looks down at his feet. Out of instinct, Anakin reaches out to take the boy’s hand, sending him a reassuring smile even as the dread builds up when Luke keeps speaking. “Uncle Ben said my dad died fighting one of the monsters,” Luke continues, lightly squeezing Anakin’s fingers. “And – and he said my mommy was hurt really badly by the monsters too. She tried to fight, but she died after giving me my name.”

Vaguely, as Luke watches him carefully, Anakin is grateful that he had the foresight to give the boy his flesh hand instead of his prosthetic. He isn’t sure that the boy’s fingers would have survived the grip, not with how tightly he’s holding his hand.

Because apparently Padmé is – and no, he doesn’t want to think about it. But she is, and Anakin is too apparently, although that thought sort of falls to the back of his mind as his brain sticks on Padmé’s fate. Luke says she named him, was likely still alive she gave birth, but then? Did she die right after? Could the medics not save her? And where was Anakin – right, Luke had mentioned he was killed by one of the monsters. What monsters? Had the Sith finally come out to fight the war themselves and Padmé had been caught in the crossfire?

He barely notices that he’s spiralling until Obi-Wan’s hand comes down on his shoulder, jerking him out of his thoughts to see Luke watching him in concern and his former master crouched by his side.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan calls his name, startling him back into the present even as the pressure continues to swirl inside him. “Anakin! Listen to me, you need to breathe. Breathe.” His master takes exaggerated deep breaths, in and out, and Anakin subconsciously follows along, the early training exercise coming back to him easily from his days as Obi-Wan’s padawan. He keeps his eyes on the other man, breathing in time and holding Luke’s hand tightly, anchoring him to the present as he slowly starts to come back to himself. The pressure inside him – all the fear, the dread – is still balled up in the pit of his stomach, gnawing at his insides, but it seems more manageable with them there. He’s almost positive that Luke is copying Obi-Wan by clumsily trying to project calm and peace at him through the force, and it’s that realization that fully draws him out of his stupor.

“I’m alright,” he chokes out, squeezing his eyes closed tightly as he centres himself again. He’s moved from his crouched position, slipping down into an almost-collapsed shape on the floor, and he takes a moment to steady himself before shifting back upright. When he opens his eyes, he can see Obi-Wan watching him with a firm expression, hand still on Anakin’s shoulder to keep him grounded. Beside him, Luke clutches at his hand like he can provide a lifeline, and his eyes – Force, his eyes - they’re so similar to how his used to be back on Tatooine, when he was able to look into the polished metal at Watto’s workshop because they couldn’t afford a mirror. Luke’s eyes are his, he realizes, inherited from him with even the same sincerity that shouldn’t have affected him so young. He’s six, kark, his son is six and he isn’t even there to help raise him –

“Dad?” Luke’s voice cuts through his thoughts and he jerks back into reality, again, at the unfamiliar word. It’s one he never used, never had to, and it’s clear that Luke hesitates before saying it. He’s never really addressed someone with it before either, obviously, and Anakin’s heart wilts at the thought that his son shared his lack of a father. Anakin had Shmi, though, loving and caring for him through childhood, and Luke only has his uncles. Obi-Wan and Cody, yes, but not his parents. Not Anakin. “Dad?”

Anakin shudders, blinking once, twice, before he pushes a smile onto his lips, scared that it looks more like a grimace. “Yeah,” he breathes out, voice a bit more hoarse than before. “Yeah. That’s – uh, I guess that’s me.”

Rex snorts from behind the trio, eyes filled with mirth that overtakes the remnants of concern. “Yeah, that’s your dad alright, kid,” he says jokingly. “As eloquent as ever.” Anakin scowls at him, but Luke giggles, so maybe it’s alright. Anakin can put up with a bit of teasing if it means the boy is happy.

“Uncle Ben always said he didn’t like talking,” Luke, the little traitor, responds.

“That’s true enough,” Rex agrees readily. “He’s been my general for years and I don’t think we’ve ever lasted through a single diplomatic mission.”

Luke grins, then glances back at Anakin to assess him, before turning back to Rex. “He’s your general,” he repeats slowly, working out the thought process. “Like Uncle Ben is Uncle Cody’s general? Does that make you my uncle too?”

Rex chokes, which Anakin thinks is completely fair. He’s the only one so far who hasn’t totally had his world flipped upside-down by Luke’s rather blunt observations, and a smug sense of triumph coils its way through Anakin’s body, clearly evident to the others if Cody’s exasperated shake of the head is any indication.

“Uh,” stutters out Rex, finally fulfilling the circle of adults who have been rendered speechless by a tiny Skywalker. Anakin would be proud if he wasn’t still half-sure this is all some kind of spice dream.

“It does,” Cody confirms, and Rex’ head whips towards his brother with a look of clear shock. “He’s your uncle, now. In fact, other than, well, other than your dad here, I’m pretty sure all of my brothers are going to be clambering over themselves to be your uncles.”

Luke nods imperiously, running the words through his head. “I guess that’s okay,” he decides eventually. “Uncle Ben always says we need to have friends we can trust.” He turns to Rex and smiles at him. “It’s nice to meet you, ba’vodu Rex.”

Rex chokes again, and Anakin appears to be the only one left in the dark as both Obi-Wan and Cody chuckle.

“Where’d you learn Mando’a, kid?” Cody asks, and Rex lets out another strangled noise.

“You taught me,” Luke responds, blinking up at the commander as if confused that he even had to ask the question. Right, time travel. He’s not sure he or his son are ever going to get fully used to that concept.

Obi-Wan opens his mouth, still split in a grin, to say something in reply but is cut off before he can get the words out of his mouth. The door to the command centre slides open and lets a casually-clothed Waxer stumble through, Boil and Fives and Jesse following not a second later. Finally, Kix and Crys walk in after them, the perfect image of calm annoyance at their brothers.

Fives is the first to react, taking in the sight of everyone crouched by Luke except Rex, who still seems to be having something of a mental breakdown, and immediately points at Waxer. “He wanted to see the kid,” he says, as an excuse, and not a second later the room is filled with angered chatter as the other troopers protest the accusation, throwing around blame and other excuses and essentially creating havoc in what was already not a very stable situation.

Anakin’s eyes are drawn to Luke, and he finds the boy watching the men with wide and curious eyes, a slight bit of apprehension noticeable only by the way his hand squeezes Anakin’s a little. Anakin squeezes back, sending the boy an encouraging smile once their eyes meet, and tugs him a little closer. Kriff, Rex was right. The parental instincts really are getting to him.

“Enough!” Cody shouts, probably the only person able to silence a room of both clones and Jedi with a single word like that, the troopers almost instantly shutting their mouths with an audible click as they automatically fall into parade rest. “Luke is a child. An ad. Don’t go around scaring him, we’re here to make sure he’s safe until the Generals figure out how to get him back to his guardians, understood?”

The men snap off a salute, and despite the slightly antagonistic relationship he has with Cody, he briefly considers stealing the man for his own legion. Maybe they’d be less likely to make insubordinate jokes – and no, they probably wouldn’t. Cody would no doubt encourage them to do it more.

“We wanted to meet… uh, Luke,” Waxer finally admits, putting emphasis on the ‘we’ that the other troopers grumble at but don’t outright protest. “And to make sure he was okay after the battle.”

Obi-Wan snorts at that. “Of course, gentlemen,” he says disbelievingly, shaking his head. “And may I ask, how is it that you even knew he was here?”

“We didn’t think the Commander and General would just leave him there,” Jesse squawks out, offended, before his tone turns slightly more sheepish as he scratches the back of his neck. “And, uh, well, Appo sort of told everyone he was here?”

“I see,” Obi-Wan says slowly, in way that implies he really does see, and yeah, Anakin gets it too. He knows about the clones’ gossip network, has been on the receiving end of it a few times, and he thinks for a moment about the fact that they’re probably going to have to deal with the whole 212th and 501st showing up throughout the evening to get their own look.

“We’re here because we heard you found a child on a battlefield,” Kix explains drily, gesturing to himself and Crys. “And to check on you two, General, Commander. Even though you may not have been in the fight itself, you know standard operating procedure.”

Cody shrugs, looking a little… chastised, actually, now that he thinks about it. “We were, uh, a bit preoccupied,” he tries, jutting his chin towards Luke who just giggles, clearly already more than used to his uncle’s own brand of embarrassment.

“I see,” Crys says icily, and Anakin is suddenly glad he’s only ever had to deal with one of the medics at the time. He’ll keep Kix, thanks, and leave Crys somewhere far away from him.

“I wasn’t hurt,” Luke pipes up helpfully. “And neither were they. They were with me the whole time.”

“Well, you definitely inherited your disdain of medics from your father,” Obi-Wan drawls, pushing himself back to his feet with as much dignity as he can muster. “Anakin will only get himself checked out if he’s dragged there. Or drugged, I suppose. Unconscious, at any rate.”

Anakin scowls. “Like you and Cody are any better,” he retorts, only to have his attention drawn by Rex who’s not-so-subtly pointing at the other troopers, who do look at little shell-shocked. It takes a moment for the reason to set in, but once it does he clears his throat awkwardly, even as Obi-Wan watches him with clear amusement. “Oh, uh, right,” he stammers, standing up at the same time as Cody but keeping Luke’s hand in his own as he turns to face the men. “Um, everyone, meet Luke. He’s… well, he’s sort of my son from the future?”

If the gossip wasn’t going to have spread around the base like wildfire before, it was certainly sure to now.

Chapter Text

After Kix and Crys have finished their medical exams on all three of them to their satisfaction, they’re finally released and decide to make their way towards the mess hall, Luke’s loudly grumbling stomach spurring them on. Upon arrival, and faced with the magnitude of almost a thousand clones’ shock, Cody sighs and steps forward to explain the condensed version of events.

Luke, for his part, once settled on a bench and flanked by Cody and Rex, a curious crowd of clones packed around the table, immediately starts eating the bland, horrible, wartime rations without complaint. Anakin’s heart breaks again at the thought that his child hasn’t been able to eat good food. They’re going to need to find out more about Luke’s future – but he’s going to wait for now, heeding Obi-Wan’s whispered advice from while Kix and Crys had been examining Luke. Why both medics decided to get involved, Anakin isn’t sure, but he’s leaning towards the fact that they likely wanted to sate their own poorly-hidden curiosity, even though they concealed it much better than any of their brothers.

“He seems to be doing well,” Obi-Wan remarks, leant up against one of the empty tables as the troopers all get drawn in towards Luke.

Anakin huffs out a little breath. “Yeah,” he agrees, but can’t find the energy to add anything else. In all fairness, he’s still reeling from the shockwaves of the situation, and trying to cope with figuring out how to care for a six-year-old emerged from the future. Not to mention that he and Padmé are apparently dead, and who knows what else has gone wrong.

“Hmm,” comes Obi-Wan’s considering hum, and Anakin rolls his eyes at the familiar gesture from when he was a padawan.

“Alright, what is it?” he asks, slumping back against the table so that they’re both at practically the same height, tilting his head towards his former master.

Obi-Wan reaches up to stroke at his beard, the action heavily practised, and keeps his eyes trained on where Luke is surrounding by adoring troopers all trying to butter him up and convince him to let them be his uncles, as well.

“I’m not sure,” he says eventually, calm tone belying the seriousness of his expression. “I’m not nearly as good at identifying shatterpoints as Master Windu –” Anakin scoffs at the name, earning a quick glare, “– but there’s something about the boy. He seems… too light, almost, given what we’ve heard about his life so far.”

“Yeah,” Anakin agrees, glancing over to the blonde head in the middle of a sea of white armour and black casual fatigues. “Yeah, I kind of get that feeling too.” He swallows around a lump in his throat, both desperate to find out what happens in the future and too terrified to ask at the same time. “I mean, I know that he’s Force-sensitive, it’s pretty obvious, but the shields around his mind…” he trails off and shrugs.

Luckily, Obi-Wan seems to pick up on what he means. “Yes,” he says softly. “I think – if we assume that I built up those shields, or, well, future me did, that there has to be a reason. They’re incredibly strong, and seem designed to keep everyone else from noticing him unless they’re within close enough proximity. Force-users, that is. I doubt I could hide his actual body so well even with the Force. I think we’re only connecting to him now because of our relationship with him.”

“I want to know why he needs them,” Anakin returns quickly, the surge of protectiveness in his own voice startling himself as well as his former master. In an effort to seem a bit more composed, he clears his throat briefly before continuing. “I mean, he mentioned monsters, but he’s a kid. That could mean anything, right? But then, combined with the shields… I don’t know. Why does he have to stay hidden? What happened that he’s so used to hiding and refuses to talk about certain things? I mean, he wouldn’t even tell me his surname, although I think by now I’ve sort of guessed what it is.”

“Yes, well, I think we all have,” Obi-Wan surmises with a rueful smile. “Unless he took Padmé’s name, of course.”

Anakin closes his eyes for a second, breathing in to calm down before he crosses his arms out of a misplaced sense of self-defence, preparing himself for the conversation they’re about to have.

“How did you know?” he asks eventually, voice quiet and almost inaudible over the sound of the troopers’ interactions. He knows Obi-Wan gets what he means, that he doesn’t have to elaborate, but he finds himself doing it anyway. “About… about me and Padmé. How did you know? How long?”

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan’s voice is soft, tender. Anakin hates to admit that it’s sort of comforting. “I’ve always known, my dear. How could I not? She makes you happy in a way that I never could.”

“You make me happy too, Master,” Anakin protests, the words weak in the wake of what he’s just been told. “I just… why did you never say anything?”

Obi-Wan sighs, eyes flickering down in something akin to shame. “It wasn’t my place,” comes his response, hesitant and unsure. “I knew what was going on. I tried to ignore it for a while, tried to be willfully blind, but I couldn’t. We’re fighting a war, we need what little peace we can get.”

“But the Code –” Anakin starts, brows furrowing as he tries to reconcile this revelation with his view of his unattainably perfect master.

“I know.” Obi-Wan sighs. “I know, Anakin. But I think… I don’t know. We’ve already compromised so many of our beliefs for this war. I know we’re doing the right thing, I do, but sometimes it feels like we’re not able to carry out what we want.” Anakin doesn’t miss the way his former master’s eyes dart towards the crowded table, looking over Luke before lingering on Cody a moment longer than necessary. “We’re doing the right thing,” he says again, and this time it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself. “We are. I know that. I just… everything still seems wrong.”

Anakin can’t help but stare at him, this man who seems to differ so much from the one he knows. He’s not subtle with his gaping, and it’s clear that Obi-Wan notices if the way he huffs, a little self-deprecatingly, is anything to go by.

“Yes, I have doubts too,” he says wryly, shaking his head a little. “Shocking, I’m sure. Still, this war has gone on long enough. And now, with Luke, it’s shaken things up more than we see, I believe. If he is to understood, something went wrong in the relatively near future. I’m not sure how to reconcile that.”

“You…” Anakin can’t quite voice the words you’ve never talked to me like this before, but he swallows them down before they can escape. “Why are you telling me this now?” he tries instead, listening to Obi-Wan’s answering sigh.

“Luke,” he says honestly. “He’s barely been here half a cycle, and he’s already changed everything. You feel it too, don’t you.” He waits for Anakin’s slightly subdued nod, reciprocating with one of his own before he goes on. “Precisely. We have… a chance, I suppose, to learn from him. Perhaps it won’t work out, Force knows our plans tend to end in catastrophes frequently enough, but regardless – I believe we have to take this opportunity for what it is.”

Anakin frowns, looking back over to the crowd of troopers surrounding the absolute supernova of pure light that is Luke, and doesn’t find it in himself to disagree. The two of them watch on in silence as Luke’s smiles grow less hesitant, his body still attached to Cody’s hip but not in a defensive position anymore.

“Generals,” comes a voice to their left, and they both turn to see Kix staring at Anakin with an inscrutable expression to his features.

“Kix,” Anakin greets, a way out from the heavy conversation, only for his relief to waver at Kix’ serious look. “What is it?”

“Well,” the medic drawls out slowly, voice dry as he skims over his datapad. “He’s definitely your kid, General. Genetic test came back positive for a parental match.”

Obi-Wan chuckles lightly. “He’s certainly caused enough mayhem to be deserving of the Skywalker name,” he quips, then tilts his head slightly to take in the medic’s small smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “What else have you found?”

“I did a full examination on him – or, well, as much as I could without sending him for an atomic scan, sir,” Kix reports, scrolling through his datapad until he presumably finds what he needs. “I looked up some statistics on human nat-borns as well so I could have a bit of context. I’ve, uh, well, I’ve never really had to care for a child before.” He pauses, swallowing, before shaking his head and continuing. “He’s a bit small for his age – nothing to be worried about, I promise.” He holds up his hand disarmingly as Anakin immediately bristles. “I’ve put it down to him probably being born prematurely, or under stress. I’ve read that both can influence a child’s size, although I would recommend getting him looked over by a doctor more experienced in these matters just to be sure.” He takes a breath, scrolling a bit more on his datapad. “Other than that, I’m pleased to say he’s completely healthy, other than a bit dehydrated. He does, however, have some signs of physical trauma.”

Both Anakin and Obi-Wan inhale sharply at that, their doubts and fears over Luke’s life evidently not as unfounded as they had hoped.

“I’m going to start by saying that all the injuries I’m about to tell you about are over a year old and completely healed, and don’t seem to be causing him any discomfort.” Kix eyes the two Jedi carefully before nodding to himself, satisfied that they’re relatively calm and won’t interrupt until he’s finished. “There appear to be some lacerations on his shoulders, back and thighs, as well as a rather deep gash or clumsy incision on his upper left thigh. He had a fractured cheekbone approximately a year and a half ago together with a broken arm, and likely a couple concussions, too. There are small pock-marks on various places that could have been caused by any number of things.”

Anakin is practically vibrating in place, tension and anger and concern bleeding out into the Force, strong enough that Luke freezes mid-sentence to look over warily. Obi-Wan sends him a small smile, pushing out a wave of comfort to both him and his former apprentice, and places his hand on Anakin’s arm to ground him. “Do you know what caused his injuries?” he asks quietly.

“There a few things,” Kix responds, glancing at his general. “Some of them could be consistent with normal children’s clumsiness or accidents, although a beating or some sort of concussive explosion are possible too.” He sighs, even as Anakin tenses up even more and Obi-Wan’s hand on his arm tightens. “Children are resistant, so I can’t determine exactly what happened due to the nature of the wounds and his accelerated healing – a Force thing, I’m assuming – and he didn’t give me any details. The smaller injuries could have come from anything as trivial as an insect bite or something more serious, like shrapnel. If it was the second, he’s been well taken care of, as there appears to be no remnants of any materials in the injuries. I’d still like to perform an atomic scan to be sure, but that will have to wait until we’re back aboard the Negotiator.”

There’s a small pause, before Obi-Wan finally nods. “Thank you, Kix,” he says softly. “Was there anything else to report?”

“Captain Gregor relayed that the last of the Separatist forces have been routed, sir,” comes the trooper’s reply as he tucks his datapad under his arm. “There a couple last sweeps to do, but we should be able to dismantle the camp sometime tomorrow and get back on board the ship.”

“Good man,” Obi-Wan comments. “And some good news, thankfully. Go take care of whatever work you have left, then take a break. I think we’ve all earned it, and we’ll need at least some semblance of energy for the return to the ship tomorrow.”

Kix grins a little at that, snapping off a salute. “Generals,” he says, before heading back towards the entrance of the mess hall, likely to return to his own domain of the medical wing.

Obi-Wan waits for a second to make sure they’re both back out of earshot, before turning and squeezing Anakin’s arm gently. “Anakin,” he starts, his former apprentice’s eyes snapping towards him. “Kix said he’s fine, remember. Hold onto that. Whatever did or did not happen to him is in the past, and while I believe we will need to question him about it at some point, he’s happy and healthy now.” He pauses, noting how Anakin’s body relaxes minutely. A step in the right direction, at least. “There we go. Remember, we have time. You said it yourself.”

At that, Anakin breathes out slowly. It’s still obvious that he’s holding himself back, anger and fear sparking over their bond, but he’s drawn most of it back behind his shields as he inhales and exhales in a semblance of the training exercise Obi-Wan had used to coach him through his panic attack earlier.

“Yeah,” he says eventually, blinking rapidly before looking up at Obi-Wan. “Yeah, Master, you’re right. Sorry.”

“That’s quite alright, my dear,” Obi-Wan assures him with a warm smile, squeezing his arm once more before finally releasing him and rolling his shoulders back. “Now, how about we go and rescue your son before he gets roped into wearing a miniature version of the clone armour.”

Anakin huffs out a laugh as he shakes out his limbs briefly, releasing his tension. “I don’t know,” he says teasingly, head tilted so as to seem considering. “That could be pretty cute.”

“No,” Obi-Wan shuts that idea down immediately, eyes narrowing. “He gets mini Jedi robes, or nothing.”

“Aw, possessive over your future nephew already, are we, Master?” Anakin drawls out smugly, swinging his arm over Obi-Wan’s shoulders as they start to make their way towards the table. “Don’t worry, I promise not to tell the Council.”

“That is not what’s happening,” Obi-Wan denies, shrugging Anakin’s arm off with a heatless glare. “What I meant is that I’m not trusting anyone other than myself and Padmé with his wardrobe from now on. We can’t have him dressing in drab all-black like you.”

Anakin’s affronted squawk is drowned out by the chatters of all the troopers as they approach the crowded table.

Chapter Text

If they had been at all worried about trying to get a six-year-old child to bed, they needn’t have been, since one sharp look from Cody was all it took to cut off the boy’s pleas to stay up later. It was quite a relief, frankly, and gave Anakin some much-needed time to finish up a few things with his men and then have a well-deserved panic attack. If it took Obi-Wan quietly coming in and sitting with him for him to finally be calm enough to go sleep, no one had to know.

And, another bonus of having a small child around – as they learnt – was that there would no longer be any need for a morning alarm.

When Anakin blinks his eyes open to find them mirrored back at him perfectly, it takes all the discipline in him that he’s somehow managed to maintain over the years not to scream. Unaware of the shock he’s just been responsible for, Luke grins down at him brightly.

“Hi!” he greets, voice far too chipper for someone up so early. Anakin has always been an early riser himself, drilled into him from years on Tatooine, but that doesn’t mean he likes it.

“Uh, hey, buddy,” Anakin responds, once he’s finally regained enough composure to remember what exactly is going on and why there’s a blond kid staring down at him. “Did you, uh, did you get in this room all by yourself?”

That earns Anakin a blindingly bright smile, accompanied by an eager nod. “Yeah!” comes Luke’s reply. “I’m really good with mechanics, ‘specially droids. Uncle Ben says I take after my – uh, well, after you.” The end of his sentence is a bit sheepish, the smile turning into something of a confused frown by the time the last words have spilled out of his mouth.

“I like working with droids too,” Anakin says flatly, still reeling from the revelation that his future son has somehow ended up with them, too surreal to not have at least some doubts it wasn’t a dream. Regardless, it seems like that was the right thing to say, as Luke’s smile returns full-force.

“That’s what Uncle Ben always says!” he agrees enthusiastically. “I’ve done a little bit, I did more back on Tatooine, but now I help Uncle Cody fix the ship and whatever speeders we use. I wanted to start helping with the blasters, too, ‘cept Uncle Ben and Uncle Cody say I’m too little.”

“They’re probably right,” Anakin agrees dazedly, mind caught on the word Tatooine. What had his son being doing there, of all places? “Hey, Luke –”

The door to his room slides open, cutting them both off as a frantic Obi-Wan Kenobi comes bursting through, an equally worked-up Commander Cody following on his heels and both portraying the best depictions Anakin thinks they can muster of what they’re like taking care of Luke years in the future. Frazzled, overworked, and concerned are just the tip of the iceberg of the countless emotions bleeding through them into the Force.

“Luke!” Obi-Wan shouts, half overwhelmed and half relieved. He crouches in front of the boy, reaching his hands out to rest on the small shoulders before him. “Waxer said you disappeared from your room. We’re in an active war zone, you could have gotten hurt!”

“I thought the fighting here was over?” Luke asks, tilting his head in a puzzled manner and looking not at all concerned about apparently having given his guardians a minor heart attack. “Mr. Boil said that we would be going to your ship today.” His eyes convey his barely-concealed excitement at the prospect.

Obi-Wan sighs deeply, closing his eyes and removing one of the hands from Luke’s shoulders to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Be that as it may,” he begins, voice deceptively calm. “This is still a strange planet for you, and while we may have routed most of the droids and won this operation, that does not mean there aren’t any dangers here. There is a reason a squadron of men will be left behind as an outpost when we leave.”

“Oh,” Luke says slowly, expression considering. “I didn’t think about that. I just wanted to come find someone and ask when we were leaving.”

Cody raises an eyebrow at that. “And you decided to come get Skywalker? Somehow managing to get to the 501st’s section of the base without alerting any of my troops?” His tone sounds mostly disbelieving, but there’s a hint of awe and concern in there too.

“Well… yeah,” Luke responds slowly, shuffling his feet and looking down at his shoes. “You always say I have to be quiet and not let anyone see me ‘less you say so. I thought it would still be the same.”

“I see,” comes Cody’s reply, in a tone that doesn’t give away that he very much does not see, Anakin only aware of his confusion by the twitch of his jaw. “First of all, you’re allowed to have people see you here, as long as it’s the vod’e or someone General Kenobi or General Skywalker has introduced you to. Hopefully that will prevent any future escape attempts.” His voice has now turned a little exasperated. “Regardless, may I ask how you managed that?”

Luke perks up immediately. “I used the vents!” he explains enthusiastically. “I’m small enough to go through them, so I climbed into the one in my room. Sometimes I hide in vents when Uncle Ben tells me to, but most of the Imperial ones have ray shields so it doesn’t always work.”

“Vents,” Obi-Wan repeats dryly, frowning up at Anakin who suddenly realizes that after bolting upright in bed – without the covers to shield him – he’s only in his undergarments, the slight chill of the room finally starting to get to him.

“Right,” he starts, clearing his throat awkwardly when three pairs of eyes settle on him expectantly. “So, uh, Luke – no more going in the vents. But before we, well, continue this discussion, can I go ahead and get dressed…?”

Obi-Wan blinks at him, suddenly taking in his appearance for the first time, and swallows quickly before nodding. “Of course,” he agrees easily, standing up and grabbing Luke’s hand, presumably in an attempt to prevent him from wandering off. “My apologies, I was… distracted. We’ll see you in the mess hall. And remember that we still need to call the Council.”

“Distracted,” Anakin scoffs, shaking his head and raising his hands innocently when his former master glares at him. “Alright, alright. I’ll get ready.” He pauses in his motions as the rest of the sentence catches up to him, and slumps back down onto his bed with a groan. “Do we have to? Can’t you handle the Council, Master?” His voice has turned wheedling, he knows it, and also knows that it won’t have an affect. It does make Luke giggle, however, so it’s a win in his book.

“No.” Obi-Wan’s response is firm and succinct. “You will be attending the meeting as well. Besides,” he stops, a mischievous grin taking over his features that has Anakin’s eyes widening with nerves. “I believe you have someone to introduce them to.” Both he and Cody seem smug at the look of abject terror that has no doubt crossed his face, and even Luke is still giggling at Anakin’s misfortune. Traitors, the lot of them. “Now, come, Luke,” Obi-Wan continues, drawing the boy to the door while Cody hits the control panel to open it. “Let’s go get some food in you to prepare for the trip to the ship, hmm?”

“Yeah!” Luke grins at the prospect, pausing in his steps towards the door to give Anakin a goodbye wave. “See you later, Da- uh, Mr. Anakin.”

Obi-Wan frowns at that, and Anakin immediately feels a sort of tug on their bond.

“You, uh, you can call me Dad,” Anakin stammers out slowly, sitting up to talk to him, the terror at introducing Luke to the Council now overrun by fears about his own incompetence as a father.

“I can?” Luke asks, staring up at him with something akin to awe splashed across his features.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Anakin assures him, shrugging nonchalantly to disguise the internal screaming in his head. The boy – his son – stares at him a moment longer before smiling brightly, waving at him with a final ‘bye, Dad!’ as Obi-Wan leads him into the hall, a small smile visible across his face before the door slides shit behind them with a hiss. Once they’re gone, Anakin slumps back down onto his pillow, as stares at the ceiling with an unseeing gaze.

“Dad,” he repeats to himself, squeezing his eyes closed as he tries to process everything that had happened in a span of five minutes and far too early in the morning.

Nope. Not happening.

Not yet, at least.

In somewhat of a daze, still consciously ignoring the situation which would likely send him into another spiral leading to a panic attack like he’d had last night, Anakin finally pushes himself off of his bunk and onto the cold metal floor of the base. The chill helps him acclimatize, somewhat, as he slips on his tunic and robes and clips his lightsaber onto his belt from where he’d stashed it under his pillow. Glancing at the chronometer mounted on the wall, he notes that it’s only been a few minutes since he got up and the three intruders had left his room.
Excellent. More time to panic. Which he does, immediately.

He’s pretty sure that the anxiety and fear and confusion this time lasted far longer than his episode last night, especially without Obi-Wan to help see him through it, although he doesn’t bother checking the time again before heading out. There’s no reason to torture himself any more than he already has been doing.

The winding, ever-blank and non-changing walls of the base flicker past his vision as he makes his way towards the mess hall, the repetition of grey interspersed with control panels and various doors a somewhat soothing balm to the chaos swirling in his mind. It’s funny, he notes, as he gives a passing pair of troopers a half-hearted smile, that despite his constant need to be the best and to always be on the frontlines, his priorities are slowly shifting. He knows for a fact that we’re the opportunity to arise, he definitely would hop in his fighter and lead an attack, but strangely, it’s not the first thing on his mind anymore. And although he also definitely wants to get Luke into the cockpit of a one-person ship – to see his face light up, teach him what controls he doesn’t already know – he certainly doesn’t want that ship to be anywhere near the front lines. But considering the fact that he was nine when he was in his first starfight, so his son has to wait at least until he’s eight. And preferably even older, instead.

Actually, how about never?

Luke has changed him in a scant number of hours, and he doesn’t exactly know how he should feel about it.

He does, however, know with aching familiarity the warmth that spreads through his chest upon opening the doors to the mess hall and seeing Luke surrounding by adoring clones, all clearly trying to gather favour and greedily lapping up every smile the boy willingly bestows upon them. Of course it’s familiar. It’s the same feeling he gets when he looks at Padmé, after all. The feeling that’s slightly subdued but still unwaveringly present when Obi-Wan hugs him after a mission, or when Rex shoves a cup of caf into his hands, or when Ahsoka would –

And nope, not going there. Anakin firmly jerks his attention back to the present, making his way over to the table where Luke appears to be unknowingly holding court, the crowd of troopers around him having inadvertently shoved Obi-Wan and Cody away from the boy’s immediate side, both of them looking rather miffed at the situation. Anakin has to suppress a snort at the jealousy radiating off of them in waves, unused to the emotion from either of the usually more put-together men. Not that he can exactly blame them, though, especially not when Echo tosses some sort of candy to his kid who looks like Life Day has come early. That should be Anakin’s job, thank you very much.

“I guess my first concern as a parent will be avoiding having my child become a spoiled brat,” Anakin remarks drily, coming up to the table and drawing the attention onto him, slightly mollified over his own jealousy when Luke immediately perks up and grins at him.

“The vod’e are so wizard!” he says happily, hopping off of his seat to wade through the mess of troopers up to Anakin. “They gave me loads of sweets, and even some stuff that tasted kind of like cake, which Uncle Ben said is bad for my teeth, but they kept giving them to me anyway. And Mr. Fives told me he’d teach me how to shoot a blaster later!”

Before Anakin can form a reply at that frankly alarming statement, Cody’s voice drawls out from the back of the group. “He did what, now?”
Fives, for his part, fidgets nervously even as Appo surreptitiously elbows him in the side and clears his throat. “Only set to stun, obviously, sir,” he adds quickly.

“But you said –” a hand comes up to cover Luke’s mouth before he can continue, likely belonging to either one of the chastised men but possibly to any of the others due to the tight tangle they’re webbed up in. Anakin raises his eyebrows and the hand slips away, but Luke seems to have caught onto the hint and doesn’t continue, instead smiling sunnily as if he’s never done anything wrong in his life. Whatever, Anakin has never been one for discipline anyway. Cody is probably the best one to have handle that.

A comm chimes out with a notification, cutting through the commotion, and Anakin glances up to make eye contact with Obi-Wan quickly just before the man heads towards the doors, raising his wrist slightly to indicate his comm unit. Anakin nods, before turning his attention back to the boy at his feet.

Luke gazes up at him innocently, and Anakin sighs, unable to really disagree with the way the troopers have all decided he deserves anything he could even dream off. He can’t wait to see Luke’s face when he gets the boy into the cruiser’s engine room, already imagining the scaled-up glee compared to the way the boy had talked about mechanics and helping Cody with their ship. Which he still needed to ask about.
Something he couldn’t find it in himself to do right now, not as his focus is drawn back to the sliding doors.

“We’re heading to Chandrila,” comes Obi-Wan’s voice as he reenters the mess hall, immediately calling attention to him as he commands the space. “All of you need to get to your stations and prepare to board the Negotiator immediately. We’re being sent to aid General Koon and Commander Wolffe, and I want us there as quickly as possible.” He pauses, briefly, crossing his arms at the troopers. “Let’s go, men. There’ll be enough time to spoil Luke later.”

He receives a few chuckles at those words, and a countless number of salutes, and then the clones move off in synchronized waves to carry out the directions given to them, the ones passing by Luke each giving him a ruffle of his hair as they go.

Luke wrinkles his nose and attempts to somewhat neaten the blond strands after they’re done, something that proves ineffective when Rex and Cody come up and both do the same. He glares up at them with a small pout that is just as ineffective as his neatening attempts had been.

“I’ll take you to the ship, ad’ika,” Rex says, sliding his hand from Luke’s hair to his shoulder. “Lucky for me, everyone left in this room currently outranks me, which means I get to hang out with you while they do all the hard work.”

Anakin sends him a glare that he does his best to ensure is more intimidating than Luke’s had been. “I hate you,” he mutters, scowling when his captain gives him a smug grin.

“I know,” Rex replies in a tone that makes Anakin wish he didn’t like the man nearly so much. “And I’m sure you’ll keep hating me while you’re performing your duties for takeoff. I, on the other hand, will be giving Luke a tour of the Negotiator’s engine room.”

Oh, Anakin does hate him. How Rex had somehow managed to choose the main thing Anakin had been planning to show Luke onboard the cruiser, Anakin would never know, but – ah. Well, Rex did know him pretty well, and it’s no small leap to assume his son would share the same mechanical proclivities.

“As much as I also hate Rex,” Cody drawls, earning his own glare, “we do have work to do. Vod, if even one hair is out of place on Luke’s head –”

“You’re threatening me?” Rex scoffs, eyes wide. “Luke will be perfectly fine, don’t you worry. You weren’t the only one caring for rambunctious tubies.”

“Uncle Ben always says I’m rambu’tious,” Luke voices his agreement, nodding as if that settles the matter. And, well, to him, Anakin supposes it does.

Obi-Wan smiles. “Rightly so, young one,” he says, his tone teasing. “But regardless. Enjoy your time with your ba’vodu, and Cody, Anakin, and I will see you once the boarding procedures are completed.”

“Okay!” Luke agrees readily, then tugs on Rex’ hand. “Can we go see the engines now, please?”

“He’s definitely as demanding as you, General,” Rex notes, ducking the swipe aimed his way as Luke drags him excitedly towards the hall. “Good luck, I think you’ll need it just as much as I will!”

Chapter Text

It takes almost a full cycle to travel to Chandrila, which, even on the edge of the Core and the Mid Rim, is still far enough away from Felucia that their ship with its Class 1 hyperdrive takes longer than a quick jump. Anakin hasn’t even seen Luke since the morning at breakfast yesterday, too busy arranging battle plans and coordinating with Master Koon, then ensuring all the troops and the air support are fully prepped. His only consolation, other than the slightly selfish one that Obi-Wan and Cody haven’t seen the boy either, is that he’s with Rex. If there’s anyone he trusts to take care of his kid, Rex would definitely be in the top three of that list.

It’s a very short list.

Still, as the navicomputer beeps out that they’re finally about to exit hyperspace and reach their destination, Anakin can’t help but wish he had seen Luke today, even for just a second. It’s morning, and the boy hadn’t rushed into his rooms to unceremoniously wake him up again. With a pang, he realizes that he sort of wishes he had.

The streaks of starlight outside of the hull of the ship fade back into dots, and the blue of Chandrila comes up on the viewport. Anakin doesn’t know anything about Chandrila, not really, except that its senator is named Mon Mothma. And even that he only knows because Padmé is friends with her.

“That was cutting it rather close,” Obi-Wan says drily from beside him, arms crossed as he takes in the way Master Koon’s cruiser is slowly but surely going down in flames. It’s a little disconcerting that he’s actually happy about the battle, that it’s an aerial assault this time, the place Anakin is the most comfortable – in the cockpit of his fighter – but hey, he has to make light of all of this somehow.

“At least we got here in time,” he responds, shifting on his feet as he can already feel the adrenaline starting up at the prospect of a fight. “I don’t think their ship is going to last much longer.”

“I normally wouldn’t say this, but in this case I believe you’re right,” Obi-Wan agrees, studiously ignoring the glare Anakin immediately sends his way in favour of stepping up to the holotable in the centre of the bridge, clicking a button to turn it on.

An image of Plo Koon appears, glowing blue and hovering over the projector as he lifts his wrist to talk into his comm. “It seems help has arrived,” he states, and Anakin rolls his eyes at the dry delivery, quickly reminded of why Ahsoka – ahem, she who will not be named – was so fond of him. He’s definitely one of the better Jedi, unlike certain members Anakin could care to mention.

“Indeed,” Obi-Wan replies, raising an eyebrow. “It appears you’ve gotten yourself into a predicament, my friend.”

“I’m afraid so,” Master Plo says sagely, nodding his head even while he deflects some blaster bolts with his lightsaber. “I’m sorry to say that we’ve been boarded and the engine room has been badly damaged. We don’t have any capacity to keep the ship stable.”

Obi-Wan nods at the same time as Anakin does, having already gone through this possibility as they worked out strategies. “Evacuate the ship,” Obi-Wan recommends, and even though Master Koon’s eyes are covered, it’s obvious he’s giving a look that says no kidding. “Yes, well. Evacuate and get your men aboard the Negotiator. We’ll give you backup so you don’t get blown out of the sky.”

“Delightful choice of words, Master,” Anakin quips, smirking at the scowl he receives and turning on his heel. “I’ll go scramble the fighters. Unless you want to join me…?”

“You very well know I do not,” Obi-Wan tells him, sniffing indignantly. “Go play with your ships. I’ll coordinate from the bridge and maintain fire on the Separatist cruiser. I doubt it will make much of an impact at this distance, but hopefully it will add to your chances.”

“Sounds good.” Anakin gives him a mock salute as he slips through the doors which his former master blatantly ignores, racking up the tally mark of ‘ignoring Anakin’s behaviour today’ to a nice two. He’ll see how far he can get it. Maybe Luke will even join in.

For now, though, he’s got to focus on the upcoming fight as he waits for the lift to take him down to the hangar bay level. He knows his squad is ready, already prepped them on what lay in wait when they we’re going over the situation, and he’s anxious to get underway. Honestly, with all the panic and stress Luke has been causing over the last two cycles, even with the humour and feelings of adoration he also evoked, it will be nice to get back into the swing of things. He really is a bad Jedi if he’s looking forward to a fight.

Then again, Obi-Wan trained him. And for all that he’s been nicknamed the Negotiator by the press, Anakin has seen him slice off enough arms with his lightsaber to know that it’s all a load of banthashit.

If there’s one thing Anakin hopes Luke doesn’t inherit from him or pick up from Obi-Wan, it’s their sense of recklessness. He’s pretty sure it’s a futile hope, though, considering what he’s seen. Maybe he’ll have enough positive traits from Padmé to balance it all out – although considering Anakin’s first introduction to her was lying her way past Jedi to see the hive of criminals that is Mos Eisley, he’s not feeling that positive about it. Maybe they’re all made for each other.

He makes it to the hangar bay where R2 has already got his fighter powered up, his squad just waiting for him to give the green light. R2 beeps impatiently at him as he jumps into the cockpit.

“Sorry, Artoo,” he says, making sure the sarcasm is evident in his voice for the little astromech to pick up on over the comms as he closes the hatch on his fighter. “Unlike someone, I can’t quite fit through the maintenance shafts.”

Artoo whistles in what he interprets to be a huff, something along the lines of incompetent human coming through as a muttered jab. Before Anakin can even think of a retort, still not sure how Artoo had developed his attitude but grateful for it either way, his comm lights up as the rest of the squadron checks in.

“Good to see you, General,” comes Hawk’s voice, his second already set up in his ship with Jinx in the artillery seat. “Happy you’re back joining us out here?”

“You know it, Hawk,” Anakin laughs, starting up the ignition sequence as the other pilots do the same. “Alright, boys,” he continues as the hangar bay doors above them start to open. “We’re flying as a protective escort, but let’s try to take down as many of those Seppies as we can while we’re at it.” There’s a cheer from his men and Anakin can’t help but grin, agreeing with the sentiment wholeheartedly. If he’d told his younger self years ago on Tatooine that he’d spend the majority of his career as a Jedi – at least so far – blowing up droids rather than building them, he’s not sure he’d believe himself.

Still, he finds there’s a certain entertainment to be found in both. As rewarding as it is to see the upgrades he’s given R2 work perfectly, or how Padmé mentions something C3PO did that relieved the tension in a serious meeting, there’s something inherently satisfying about cutting down a battle droid and knocking Dooku and his armies a tiny step back.

Yeah, he’s definitely a bad Jedi.

And that’s not even mentioning his secret marriage or apparently, as he now knows, his son.

With the hangar doors fully open, Anakin heads out into the darkness of space, illuminated mostly by Chandrila’s sun and the fire raging on Master Koon’s cruiser. His squad forms up behind him – himself in the lead, naturally – and speed out to where they can see the shuttles starting to vacate the quickly deteriorating cruiser. Once they’re close enough for the Separatist vulture droid to notice them, they’ve already started raining down blaster fire so that the shuttles can make it out of the way of the cruiser’s wreckage. It definitely feels good to back in his fighter, on the offensive.

“General Skywalker,” comes a voice through his comms, and even though he doesn’t know the Wolfpack as well as others, he’s pretty sure it’s Commander Wolffe on the line. “We’ve managed to evacuate the survivors from the attack of the boarding party. There are eight shuttles and fifteen two-man fighters. The rest of our men our at our base on the planet’s surface to prevent a ground assault.”

“Copy, Commander,” Anakin responds, executing a lazy barrel roll to avoid a shot from a vulture droid, pulling up so he can blast it to pieces. “Get the fighters to cover your front end. We’ll bring up the rear and keep those droids off your tail. Obi-Wan’s laying down cover fire so we should be able to make it back in one piece.”

For a while, the battle is all he knows, the sounds of blaster bolts screaming past his hull and the loud explosions of the vulture droids, the distinct chatter of his squadron echoing through the comms along with R2’s manic screeches.

As they approach the cruiser, only down two of Master Koon’s fighters and with one of the shuttles’ engine shot out – but luckily close enough that the Negotiator’s tractor beam can pull them in – the Separatists are in full retreat back to their own ship, aware they’re not going to be able to make a dent. Master Koon’s cruiser was already lost before they arrived.

Anakin lands safely in a free spot, right next to his men, and shuts down the engine as he reminds himself to mentally wind down from the battle.

“Hey!”

There’s a commotion in the hangar bay right as Anakin opens the hatch to his fighter’s cockpit, and he looks up at the shout only to see Luke barrelling towards him as fast as his short stature would allow, ducking under ship wings and around troopers with clear ease that Anakin just knows is instinctual. Behind him, making his way at a much slower pace, is a familiar blue-helmeted figure. Ah, right. Anakin gets it now. Luke had undoubtedly made an escape from Rex’ side and come down to greet him. He would add a somehow to that sentence, however at this point he’s not really surprised. It’s only been three days but there’s a resigned familiarity with Luke’s brand of antics already.

“Hey, bud,” Anakin greets as he hops out of his fighter, fully aware that Luke’s attention is not on him at all, but on the ship. “Managed to escape your babysitter, huh, Luke?”

“What?” Luke’s gaze snaps away from the ship to look up at him, eyes wide in awe as he immediately catches sight of R2 coming up beside them. “Woah,” he says with the exact right amount of reverence, in Anakin’s opinion. “Is that a modified R2 unit?”

Anakin has never been more proud in his life.

R2 clearly agrees, whirring happily as he spins in a showy circle while the boy looks on.

“That is so cool!” he lets out, flapping his hands in excitement. “We used to have a med droid, but we had to sell it. Uncle Cody says he’ll get me a BD unit when he can, but I can’t tell Uncle Ben about it yet. It’s ‘sposed to be a surprise because Uncle Ben doesn’t like droids as much as me and I don’t want him to say no. But Uncle Cody says if he doesn’t know then by the time we get it, it will be too late.”

Suddenly, Anakin feels a brush of kinship towards Cody. He hadn’t ever really expected to find something they had in common, outside of the already evident care towards Luke, but it seems he can now add ‘annoying Obi-Wan’ to that list.

Before he gets a chance to respond, however, the shuttles start opening and he can see Master Koon and Commander Wolffe making their way towards him, most likely for a status report. He can pinpoint the exact moment their attention shifts towards Luke, eyes still watching R2 in fascination. Even as distracted as he is, Luke must sense someone coming, because he frowns a little in confusion before turning to look at the two approaching men, right as Rex finally manages to push his way through, clearly panting under his helmet.

“Kid, you cannot be doing that,” he chastises, pulling his helmet off to wipe his forehead. “What was it that General Kenobi said about you disappearing in a war zone?”

“That it’s unfamiliar and that it could still be dangerous,” Luke recites dutifully, blinking up at Rex with tooka eyes that immediately causes the man to relent, before turning to the newcomers. He blinks at Master Koon, clearly doing a double-take at the same time as the Jedi at the inherent Force sensibility coming off of both of them. Then, his eyes flick over to Wolffe, and he lights up. “Hi!” he greets happily. “I know you! You’re one of Uncle Cody’s brothers! He still has a scar from where you bit him!”

“Uh,” Wolffe stutters out, and wow, Luke is really going to set a record with the amount of stammers he induces in people.

Master Koon seems delighted by the development, much to the despair of his commander. “Interesting,” he says, and Anakin swears his eyes are twinkling even if they’re not visible.

Chapter Text

“Luke,” Anakin says weakly, already painfully aware that a quick explanation before introducing the boy is now completely out of the picture. “Did you run away from Rex?”

Luke blinks up at him innocently, hands behind his back and blue eyes impossibly wide as he projects a sort of angelic aura. “No,” he responds immediately, and it takes Rex clearing his throat for Luke to shift a little, clearly guilty. “…Maybe.”

“That’s a definitely, sir,” Rex points out, and Anakin can feel the corners of his mouth quirk up at Luke’s badly-hidden eye roll.

He’s certainly no longer surprised at Luke’s antics, it’s inherently obvious he adopted most of his traits from Anakin. Albeit with a lot more regard for encouraging sympathy and pity from anyone who looks at him too long. Anakin would bet, that with a bit more training, Luke might even be able to wrangle the Separatists into submission with his wounded Tooka eyes.

“The comm said you were back in the hangar bay, and that the doors were closing,” Luke argues his case, bouncing on his heels. “Then Rex said it’s definitely safe to come here and meet you.”

Rex splutters. “I did not!” he protests vehemently, eyes widening and then narrowing as he looks at the boy. “Sir, full disrespect, but he gets this from you.”

“Does he, now,” Plo Koon chimes in, and Anakin closes his eyes for a brief moment to try and regain his composure. “Is there something you wish to share with us, Skywalker?”

“Right,” Anakin starts, trying to think of the best way to describe the situation without incriminating himself more than the situation already has.

“This is Anakin’s son from the future,” comes a dry voice from behind them, and they all whirl on their heels to see Obi-Wan and Cody sending Luke a sharp glare, their eyebrows lifted identically in disapproval.

Anakin runs a hand over his face. “You know, I was working up to saying that.”

“But you were taking your time,” Obi-Wan argues back, gaze never wavering from the blond boy in their midst. “Luke. You were told to stay in the barracks, I believe.”

“He follows rules just as well as Skywalker, sir,” Rex rumbles, earning a betrayed look from his general.

Luke, for his part, just smiles widely. “But you didn’t say how long I had to stay there,” he points out, his self-satisfied expression just barely affecting the overall adorability of his appearance. As Obi-Wan’s eyebrow arches higher, Luke continues boldly, either unaware or uncaring of the risks he’s taking. He truly is Anakin’s son. “The comm said the fighters were back,” Luke says. “And I had Ba’vodu Rex with me.” Rex clears his throat again and Luke’s smile slips for a split second before returning full-force. “Well, mostly. Please, Uncle Ben.” The boy steps forward to grasp Obi-Wan’s hand, tugging lightly at his fingers and staring up beseechingly. “Don’t be mad.”

There’s a moment where Anakin can clearly see his former master’s composure begin to waver, but eventually all that happens is that he closes his eyes and heaves out what is probably the deepest sigh ever made on the Negotiator. “I’ve always said Skywalkers would be the death of me,” he mutters, and Luke’s smile turns into a smirk about having gotten his way, only to disappear when Cody points at him.

“You’re staying with me from now on, Luk’ika,” he decides, sending his brother a glare. “Obviously Rex can’t be trusted with you. At least this way I’ll be able to keep an eye on you.”

Rex throws his hands up in exasperation, and Luke’ eyes widen slightly before his figure slumps, seemingly accepting his fate. “Yes, Uncle Cody,” he agrees finally.

“Well, now that that’s settled,” Obi-Wan starts, clasping his arms in front of his chest as he looks up at the ship’s newcomers. “Welcome, Master Koon, Commander Wolffe. Hopefully you didn’t lose too many of your men?”

“We would have lost a lot more if you hadn’t shown up,” Master Koon responds, imitating Obi-Wan’s pose. “And as much as I would love to find out more about young Luke here –” the boy perks up at the sound of his name and shuffles closer to Cody, but still shoots the Kel Dor jedi a shy wave. “– I believe we’d best do a headcount and then re-examine our options moving forward.”

“I agree,” Obi-Wan says succinctly. “I doubt it will take long for the droids to regroup and form a counter-attack. They’re likely already preparing for it while we’re still doing damage control on your ship and men.”

Cody nods his head at the same time as Wolffe and Rex, the stark reminder of their relationship throwing Anakin for a brief second even years after knowing the clones. Sometimes he wishes he were able to always be on the same wavelength as someone like that – but wait, no. Luke had just said Wolffe bit Cody. Maybe it’s a good thing he never had any siblings.

“I’ll take Luke with me to the control room,” Cody decides, giving Luke a sharp look that is practically daring him to argue. Luke, with a stroke of the wisdom he evidently inherited from Padmé, does not. “The men will need to be prepped if the droids attempt a ground assault. I know I’m no use in a cockpit.”

Luke suddenly lights up. “I am!” he says, clearly delighted with the turn in the conversation. “I’m gonna be the best star pilot in the galaxy!”

Obi-Wan’s expression is pained, but Cody’s is heartbreakingly fond. “I’m sure you will be, ad’ika,” he responds, earning himself a decisive nod.

“I will be,” Luke declares immediately after. “I’m already really good, but I’m not ‘sposed to be in the cockpit when there’s a fight. Uncle Hondo let me do it anyways, though, once.”

“Hondo?!” Anakin exclaims at the same time as Obi-Wan, his former master obviously deliberating how in the galaxy that pirate managed to snag the title of Luke’s uncle. There’s no way either of them bestowed it on him, he must have tricked the boy somehow.

“Yeah,” Luke confirms, blissfully unaware of the chaos he’s caused. Well, more than he already had, at any rate. “But now I could show you! I could fly too!”

Now, instead of just Anakin and Obi-Wan speaking together, Cody and Rex both follow suit and – to Anakin’s surprise – so do Wolffe and Master Koon. “No,” they all say at the same time, tone forceful enough to make Luke wilt instantly.

“And just to make sure, you’ll be coming with me now,” Cody announces, and Luke reluctantly takes his hand with a sigh, making one last half-hearted attempt to beseech Anakin to change his mind with his wide blue eyes, but on this one, Anakin finds himself agreeing with Cody yet again. Luke’s first flight shouldn’t be in an active war zone – not like Anakin’s had been.

“Stay with Cody,” Obi-Wan orders as his commander starts to lead Luke away, the boy sending one final pout over his shoulder before disappearing behind the blast doors to the hangar, only a split second before the alarms start blaring.

“Well, it looks like they got to the counter-attack earlier than we thought,” Anakin quips, sending his master a charming smile when he receives a withering look.

Master Koon nods in agreement, sending Wolffe a sharp gesture. “Indeed,” he agrees, glancing towards his men. “We will set up a perimeter for a boarding party. I do not think the droids will settle for aerial fire.”

“Unfortunately not,” Obi-Wan sighs. “And they know that there are probably at least two Jedi on board. They’ll likely attempt a frontal assault on –” he cuts himself off, face suddenly turning pale underneath his auburn beard.

It takes Anakin a second to catch up, but once he does, he can feel his own face drain of colour. “On the control room,” he finishes, his entire being filling with dread as his gaze snaps towards the door Cody and Luke had disappeared through moments before.

“Cody will have heard the alarm,” Rex points out, a voice of reason that still wavers with a hint of fear. “He’ll make sure Luke stays safe.”

“He better,” Anakin hears Obi-Wan under his breath, and at any other moment Anakin would gladly revel in hearing his former master make such a veiled comment, but right now he can’t exactly find it in him to disagree. Meeting Obi-Wan’s eyes, he sees his own determination mirrored back in them.

“We’ll go hold down the control room,” Anakin decides, a split second before the alarms start blaring louder than before, signalling the first of the landing parties making an attempt.

Master Koon nods solemnly. “Do that,” he agrees readily, gaze flickering towards Rex. “If you can spare me your captain, me and my men will try to prevent any progress through the ship.”

Rex glances at Anakin, clearly hesitating, and as much as Anakin understands his captain’s position, he knows it’s not going to help matters if both the 212th’s and 501st’s commanders are preoccupied with Luke.

“Okay,” he says, and stares Rex down until he no longer looks like he’s going to argue, nodding sharply.

“Yes, sir,” Rex says, a bit more subdued than usual, but Anakin gives him a nod that makes his expression soften somewhat. “Make sure the ad is okay.”

Before Anakin can respond, Obi-Wan cuts in decisively. “We will,” he promises, with a tone that dares the universe or else.

Chapter Text

They’re halfway to the control room when the proximity alarm switches to an announcement of boarded hostiles, the ship creaking around them as the hull is breached and forced open in multiple places. Anakin grits his teeth at the noise and wills the lift to move faster, something he knows from his own time tinkering with it that won’t be possible. Still, with as much calm as he can muster, he tries to expel at least some of the stress and worry he’s feeling into the Force.

It doesn’t really work.

“He’ll be fine,” Obi-Wan remarks, and Anakin can’t help but bristle at the words obviously being meant just as much for his former master’s sake as his. Obi-Wan is definitely one to convey false reassurances, but the way he’s saying it to try and convince himself too makes Anakin queasy. He doesn’t like the thought that both of them are currently powerless to do anything about the situation.

As soon as the lift signals it’s reached its destination, Anakin has his lightsaber powered on and one foot back, ready to launch himself at whatever waits behind. One final indicator light, and the lift slides open.

There are droids outside the door, the big super battle ones, and Anakin barely takes a second to centre himself before he’s launching himself forward, lightsaber swinging and connecting with metal in the same moment. He can sense Obi-Wan just slightly behind him doing the same, slicing through the droids and deflecting blaster bolts as they make their way down the hall as quickly as they can, desperate to get to the control room before the unthinkable happens. Anakin’s never been particularly good at shielding his emotions, feeling things too strongly for the average Jedi, but in this he can feel his former master struggling with the same issue. It’s certainly going to set a record number of near heart attacks caused in the least amount of cycles.

They take the first left, Dogma and a few of Obi-Wan’s men that Anakin doesn’t know firing at the incoming droids from the right, holding down the entrance to the bridge while Anakin focuses on reaching the control room, cutting down the droids which have started cutting through the seams of the doors. He can hear the rest of the droids behind him slowly being taken down one by one as more troopers show up to help stop this last desperate attack by the Separatists, but he barely takes note of that as he slices the last droid in two, impatiently kicking it aside before pulling the doors open with the Force.

Immediately, there’s a blaster pointed between his eyes, and if it weren’t for Obi-Wan’s shout of “Cody!” he likely would not have stopped with being on the offensive.

As it is, he immediately scans the room until his eyes fall on Luke, shoved down halfway below the holotable with Cody standing firmly in front of him, in a battle-ready stance that has Anakin distantly remembering that Cody is Luke’s uncle, feels the same surge of protectiveness over the boy that he does. Even still, he can’t focus on that, instead deciding to clear the rest of the control room as the sounds of blasterfire die down from the halls.

“Well,” Obi-Wan starts, powering down his own lightsaber and attaching it to his belt, reminding Anakin to do the same vein though he’s more hesitant to, last-ditch effort thoroughly squashed or not, the idea of more droids arriving fills him even as he follows Obi-Wan’s example. “I suppose this just proves that Luke is indeed safer with Commander Cody.”

The sentence earns him a scoff from Cody and a glare from Anakin, who watches the commander carefully as he flicks on the safety of his blaster to slide it back into its holster. “Thank you for the ring of support, General,” he says drily, making a series of quick hand motions that alert the other troopers hovering by the doors of the control room to back down. Luke, either figuring out that the danger is no longer imminent or understanding the motions himself – likely a combination of both – scrambles out from below the holotable and unceremoniously brushes a bit of rubble from his tunic. There’s not a scratch on him as far as Anakin can tell, and he finally allows himself to breathe again.

“Well, at least that’s over,” Obi-Wan comments mildly, a tinge of sarcasm in his voice that makes Luke giggle and Cody sigh. “I’m glad we’ve got everything sorted out.”

Anakin opens his mouth to reply, but before he can, his and Obi-Wan’s comms crackle at the same time, and Rex’s voice comes through a second later. “We’re good here, Generals,” he reports. “No more hostiles in our section. How’s the ad – I mean, how are things on your end?”

“Luke is just fine, Rex,” Anakin responds, rolling his eyes at his captain’s clear show of priorities, not that he really minds. “We’re clear here too. I think we’ve had enough stress for the day.”

“Me too, sir,” Rex agrees, the sigh of relief he lets out coming over just slightly through the comm’s audio. “General Gallia’s forces are due to arrive any minute. Once they’re here, we should be clear to head back towards Coruscant.”

Anakin nods, even though the other man can’t see him. “Glad to hear it, Rex,” he agrees, and swipes a hand in Luke’s direction when the boy catches him looking, sticking his tongue out as he dodges the jab. “Tell your men to do the basic cleanup, and then get some rest. Finally.”

“Will do,” Rex says, and then pauses a moment before he signs off. “And, uh, I’m glad Luke’s okay.” With that said, eh does actually switch off his comm, bringing the control room back to its usual level of noise with the buzz of machinery.

“I’m hungry,” Luke announces, breaking up the pause, and Anakin can’t help the breathy laugh that escapes him at the words. The cycle has been stressful, more so than one has been in a long time, and remembering the pure innocence and focus on more… important matters definitely brings a smile to his face.

Obi-Wan can’t quite hide his chuckle either, ruffling Luke’s hair as he gestures for Anakin to lead the way to the mess hall, Cody shaking his head in exasperation from next to the holotable. “I’m sure you are, my dear,” Obi-Wan agrees lightly, and even as Anakin turns towards the doors he can hear the smile in his former master’s voice. “You’re likely as hungry as a rancor after the day you’ve had.”

“Oh, there’s an idea,” Cody chimes in, his own amused tone layered through the words. “You should bring Lu’ika to the zoo when we get back to Coruscant. Then he’ll get to see a rancor for himself, understand the similarities.”

“I’ve seen a rancor!” Luke insists from where Obi-Wan is leading him towards the door, following in Anakin’s steps. “I have! My zur’nuse had one!”

Anakin can’t help the way he freezes instantly at those words, spine going rigid as memories of sand and lashes of a whip wash over him. His mother’s hands, strong and gentle as they rubbed what little salve they had into fresh wounds on his back. The spicy, sweet scent of tzai permeating their cramped hovel, the coarse fabric of his clothes scratching his skin. He stops in his tracks, suddenly enough that Obi-Wan walks right into him.

“Ana –” his former mas – no, teacher – starts, but Anakin can’t look away from his son, his child, filled with pure light and brightness and looking unsure as to why he’s caused a scene this time. Cody and Obi-Wan are trying to get his attention, he can feel their worry and confusion radiating through the Force, but only a dull prodding compared to the storm crackling in his ears.

He stares down at his son, at Luke, who stares back with big blue eyes. Anakin almost can’t find it in himself to ask – but no, he has to, he needs to. His voice is sharper than it should be, but he can’t help it – not with the dry air of the desert scorching his lungs in a not-so-distant memory.

“How do you know that word?” comes the demand, and Luke blinks.

Chapter Text

Blue eyes stare up at him, and Anakin finds himself caught in their gaze – lighter than his ever were and brighter than the Tatooine sky after a sandstorm. These are his son’s eyes, his child’s – and there’s no way he should have learnt the language of Anakin’s youth, handed down in secret in slave quarters and backrooms, whispered at the flesh markets, uttered as reassurance when a new member joined their ranks. The boy doesn’t answer, eyes wide in confusion, and Anakin can feel the rage harshly vibrating under his skin, threatening to erupt with withheld emotions from years of repression.

“Luke,” he barks out, barely wincing when the boy flinches at his tone – and he’ll regret snapping later, but right now he will not, he can not – ignoring the shocked and accusatory looks Cody and Obi-Wan are giving him. “How exactly do you know that word?”

Luke shrinks back a little, his grip tightening on Obi-Wan’s hand but his eyes never leaving Anakin’s, filled with the determination and decisiveness covering up a layer of fear that Anakin remembers seeing in unbroken slaves. They all lost that look eventually, though.

“One of the Grandmothers taught me,” comes Luke’s hesitant reply, stare never wavering despite the apprehension in his voice. Anakin can hear the capitalisation in the word, understands the term for what it is, one of respect rather than relation, and although theoretically it could be one of the town elders, he knows in his heart that Luke means it the other way. An elder who helps guide slaves in their new lives.

“Anakin –” Obi-Wan starts, trying to interject, but all of Anakin’s focus is on the sandstorm he and his son are caught in. Two shades of blue staring back at one another, the dawn reflected in the afternoon sky.

Anakin swallows, almost dreading the next question, even though logically he knows the answer. “Are you Free?” Obi-Wan sucks in a sharp breath, reeling back a little in shock, while Cody’s presence darkens into a storm cloud.

Luke seems to lighten at the words, standing up straighter, both pride and sorrow present in his stance. “I am Free,” he responds, putting enough emphasis on the word that Anakin can let himself breathe again. “Uncle Ben and Uncle Cody Freed me. It’s been almost four whole seasons.”

“Who?” Anakin asks, and Luke doesn’t even need him to elaborate. Anakin hates that he understands.

“Gardulla,” comes his reply, and oh, doesn’t that just make Anakin start seething internally. He hated that Hutt, hated how his mother was treated, hated that the entire sequence of events that led to his mother’s death began when Gardulla sold them to Watto. Ironic, he thinks, like father like son. Freed from a Tatooine slaver by Jedi only to live a life filled with even more conflict.

It’s definitely ironic, and he wishes it wasn’t. Force, how is going to explain any of this to Padmé?

“And… and your chip?” Anakin is almost hesitant to ask, but he needs to know. Needs to know if Luke is going to get hauled down to the medical wing and called in for an emergency surgery.

“Uncle Cody cut it out,” Luke tells them, his voice proud, and yeah, Anakin can understand that. He remembers sitting with his chip in his hand at the Jedi Temple, too scared to let it out of his sight lest it be put back but also overjoyed that it, finally, was out.

For a second, Anakin is calm again, a breath of relief washing over the room as it’s confirmed that Luke no longer has his chip, that he truly is Free. As much as any former slave can be, at any rate.

The peace lasts for only a moment before Luke continues to speak, his words falling like bombs on unsuspecting ears.

“We had to do it differently than his, though,” Luke goes on, and suddenly has all three of their rapt attention focused needle-sharp back on him. “Uncle Cody’s was taken out before I met him, but he said his was different ‘cause it was in his head. They had to use a droid to do it, but Uncle Ben said we couldn’t waste time and had to go, so Uncle Cody used a knife to cut it out instead.” He pulls up the fabric of his soft oversized trousers, repurposed from clone blacks, and shows off the jagged scar Kix had reported from his medical examination two days ago, although it already feels like a lifetime. “It really hurt, but Aunt Beru used to tell me that it hurts more to keep it in. And now Gardulla can’t get me anymore.”

There’s a lot of information packed into that short description, landing blow after blow, and Anakin barely has time to process the name of his step-brother’s wife before the rest catches up to him, blood pounding in his ears as he thinks the clones have slave chips.

If Luke – Force, his son – was talking about slave chips, something must have gone wrong in the future. Or, and that’s a much more abhorrent thought, something now that no one noticed.

Somehow.

Obi-Wan seems to be thinking along the same lines, frown flat on his lips as he considers his words. “Let me see if I understand you clearly,” he says, voice deceptively steady even as his energy is wound tighter than a spring, left hand rising to finger at his beard almost in desperation rather than contemplation. “You’re saying that Commander Cody – your Uncle Cody – and the vod’e in general, also have slave chips? And that’s why he knew to get yours out?”

“Yeah,” Luke confirms, staring up at them in confusion, his mouth twisting a little as if wondering why they don’t know. “Uncle Cody said all of his brothers have them. That’s why they’re not around anymore.”

Obi-Wan swallows, his reaction time quicker than the other two men in the room, raising his comm to his mouth even as Cody and Anakin keep staring at Luke in horror. “Crys,” he starts, not even waiting for the man to answer before he continues speaking. “I need you and Kix to meet me in the medical wing immediately. Get Bones.” His voice is calm, belying the tension Anakin can feel coming from him, from all of them. His eyes fall onto Cody. “There’s something I need you to check.”

Chapter Text

Anakin can’t quite pinpoint where the epicentre of nerves and fearful anticipation seems to be emanating the strongest. It’s not Cody, sedated by Crys’ careful hands as Kix and Helix hover next to him in case of any complications.

No, the swirling emotions in the Force are coming from their side of the room in the depths of the med bay, separated by a transparisteel window that lets them observe the goings-on in the operation chamber.

It’s also not Luke, the boy being held firmly in Obi-Wan’s arms, specifically angled away so as not to see the surgery currently taking place on his uncle. It’s not entirely necessary, Anakin is sure, since the boy had apparently already been subjected to slavery and his own subsequent removal of a slave chip. Still, while the boy is projecting worry and fear clumsily into the Force, the main emotion radiating of of him is confusion.

So, Rex or Obi-Wan, then.

The observation room is silent save for the slight shifting of Rex’ legs as he leans first on his left leg and then on his right, hands opening and closing back into fists at his sides as his jaw is clenched tightly. The bubble of distress leaking into the air permeates what shabby shields Anakin had tried to put up the second his son had first mentioned slavery.

He’s aware he’s not fooling anyone, not even Rex who until now likely had no idea Anakin had ever been a slave. As for Obi-Wan, well… he had known, but they’d never really spoken about it, although Anakin is aware that much of the fault for that lies with him. He’d never wanted to appear weak, to risk being sent away from the one place he was sure was outside of the grasp of Tatooine slavers.

Obi-Wan, for all intents and purposes, seems to be doing much better with his own shielding at the moment, although Anakin can tell it’s mostly for Luke’s sake. Here, in the edges of their bond, he can feel just how much his teacher is grappling with. His own feelings of inadequacy and failure and the nagging press of guilt and shame are weighted heavily towards the forefront. Anakin doesn’t want to even try to begin to untangle those feelings, and instead focuses his gaze straight ahead, to where Crys is standing just at the right angle to obscure his view of Cody.

Cody, who upon hearing Obi-Wan’s call for the medics, had immediately snapped out of his stupor and promptly ordered the Negotiator to jump into hyperspace towards Coruscant, leaving the rest of the fleet to wait for General Gallia’s arrival, consequences be karked. Cody, who when the medics had met them in the med bay, had immediately given a straightforward account of Luke’s words even as he ushered the boy and the two Jedi along with him and sent for Rex. Cody, who had insisted on being the one to be scanned and then, when the scan came back showing an anomaly right where Luke had said it was, had just gritted his teeth, nodded once, and ordered Crys to sedate him and remove it. After all, they didn’t know if – or how many – of the other clones even had chips implanted.

If Luke is telling the truth, and the Force does echo with agreement to his words, that it’s likely that every clone has the slave chips imbedded, not just Cody. And for Anakin, that seems almost impossible to believe.

He’d grown up surrounded by slavery, had seen the bustling human markets that sold people like cattle, and yet he’d never heard of something of this size, of this scale. Of thousands – millions - of sentients chipped and sold off to a single entity.

The Republic.

He is definitely going to have to do some serious reconsideration after they’d figured all of this out. Preferably with some strong alcohol and Padmé’s reassurances and political mind.

While Obi-Wan finally had seemed to snap out of his stupor and started to argue caution, Rex joining in quickly once he’d arrived and been briefed, Cody had swiftly shut down their objections and stepped into the operation room, leaving them where they are now: tense, watching and waiting.

Anakin can feel the slight hum of the ship around them as they hurtle through hyperspace, but the movement doesn’t seem to register as it normally would as he stands, a silent sentinel watching through the transparisteel window. Even Luke, who hadn’t yet managed to remain still in the few days they’ve known him, has gone completely quiet, huddled up against Obi-Wan’s chest as the man sits right up against the window, eyes never leaving his commander.

Anakin can’t blame him. If it were Rex in there – and it may come to that, the Force is certainly warning him of something – he’d be in the same position as both his captain and teacher, pressed and waiting anxiously and full of fear. As it is, he’s still feeling the same way, but the truth of it hasn’t quite seemed to settle in fully. Not yet.

Although that may be subject to change, he thinks, as he watches Crys drop something into Kix’s outstretched hand, the tweezers opening with a resounding sense of finality. The blonde medic immediately turns back to Cody, presumably to finish the last parts of the procedure, as Kix makes his way towards the window, expression grim.

The door connecting the operation room and the adjoining observation space slides open with a hiss, and Obi-Wan immediately stands to join Anakin and Rex in their anxious hovering even as he grips Luke a little bit closer to his chest. The door slides back shut and Kix, watching them warily, holds out a hand and slowly opens his palm to show them what’s being held within.

There, resting innocently against slightly-bloodstained surgical gloves, lies a tiny piece of metal no bigger than Anakin’s pinky fingernail, a few telltale grooves and slots marking it as a working mechanical device.

The pressure bubble that had been building ever higher in the observation room suddenly seems to pop as they all regard the slave chip held in the medic’s hand.