Chapter Text
Nothing even happens. There's no single, final straw. No last thread, snapping.
They've been at war a year and a half. The Negotiator is in hyperspace, optimistically headed Core-wards, very unlikely to actually make it beyond the Mid Rim before being redirected. Obi-Wan is in his room — the room natborn officers still frequently call his office, despite it entirely lacking a desk, because he gave up the larger room assigned to him for being too far from his men. He's sat cross-legged on the bed, filling out yet more reports. The casualty rates of their last three engagements make him ache to look at. He's trying not to think about them.
It occurs to him, abruptly, just how much he spends his time trying not to think about. The thought strikes like a bell.
He digs his comm out from under the datapads.
"Cody?"
"Yes, sir?"
"I'm afraid I may be about to have a nervous breakdown."
"You have to finish the flimsiwork first, sir," Cody says, dry. "General Windu ruled that out as a valid excuse months ago."
Obi-Wan remembers that meeting. The stern but empathetic lecture on managing stress. The Master of the Order advising to set the stress aside, to meditate through it, to grin and bear it. Something bubbles in his chest that's likely hysteria.
"You know, Cody," Obi-Wan starts, as he gathers up the datapads and stacks them neatly on the floor, "There are still embryos growing in tubes, on Kamino? The Senate throws out every suggestion of peace talks, the Separatists have at least one mole in the GAR, there's troopers on Kamino not fit to march into battle for another half decade—"
"Obi-Wan," Cody interjects, "Breathe."
Obi-Wan obediently pulls in a deep, shaky breath.
"All war's a matter of attrition," Cody says, as he's said many times before. There's a ringing noise, distant, discordant. Obi-Wan steps out into the hall.
"If we're still fighting in five years," Obi-Wan says, the ringing noise growing steadily louder, "I don't see how there could be anything left."
A long moment of silence, as Obi-Wan heads for the bridge. Technically, he can order changes to their course from anywhere, but it's only fair to give his men fair warning in person before he does something this foolish.
"Fox said something," Cody says. He's moving too, now. "Couple weeks ago, he told me I should start scouting replacements, because if he goes there's no one but me he trusts to take his place."
The ringing spikes, shrill. Freezes Obi-Wan in place. He hasn't felt anything like this since, fuck.
Since Theed. He's not felt anything close to this since watching those thrice-fucking-damned barriers close on Theed.
"He thinks he's in danger?"
"Thire would take over," Cody says, his voice tight with panic. "He should, I've never set foot in the Senate in my life. And it's not— Fox could take civvies in his sleep."
Even for a trooper, even for a Commander trained by Jango Fett personally, Fox is impressively skilled. Obi-Wan has spent a significant amount of time, now, listening to Quinlan talk at length about Fox.
Quinlan left for his ill-advised infiltration, just over three weeks ago. He had been very, very reluctant to leave Fox on Coruscant.
Coruscant is insulated, protected, sheltered. Coruscant is far, far away from the war.
"Coruscant," Obi-Wan agrees, tests, "is the safest place in the Galaxy," and the chord the words strike in the Force is so wrong he nearly vomits.
He reaches the bridge. Cody is already there. So is Waxer, and their lieutenants, and Kabu, all of them stone-faced and steadfast.
Obi-Wan takes a moment, until his vision steadies.
"The Sith are orchestrating this war," he says, slowly, feeling how the words fall in the Force, hazy memories surfacing of divination techniques he hasn't had cause to use in a decade. "There are Sith in the Senate. A Sith commissioned the Kaminoans. It's the Jedi's duty, to defeat the Sith, and yet we're too distracted fighting this war. Exactly as the Sith want us to be." The nausea isn't fading, and now his head is throbbing. "The war won't end until the Sith are finished with it. The Jedi won't survive it—"
There's a shout, a bright flash of alarm, and Cody catches him before he hits the ground.
"Cyare Sweetheart," Cody says, "You're bleeding."
Ah. That would be the taste in his mouth.
"Turn us around," Obi-Wan says, everything starting to blur again, the ringing growing so loud his eardrums should surely have burst, "Shut off the comms, turn us— Ilum—"
Cody says something, sharp and concerned. Obi-Wan's too busy passing out to hear it.
This morning, Cody had been hoping to maybe actually get leave. Had been thinking of eating something other than ration bars, working out what in the hell keeps randomly beeping on the bridge, seeing how many vod'e he could get an afternoon in the creche.
Really, he should know better than to tempt the Force like that.
"He's fine," Kabu says, knelt at the General's other side, tapping away at their scanner. "As far as I can tell, anyway. I don't know how to scan for weird Force osik shit." They check the General's pulse again, two fingers to his wrist; a nervous tic. "But he didn't have an aneurysm, he's not concussed, his vitals are all good. And his nose stopped bleeding."
"Sir?" Fluke has a hand on his comm. Cody's now the ranking officer.
He closes his eyes, just for a moment. Lets himself think a long stream of expletives. Says, "Kabu, Ely, get the General to the medbay. Waxer, I want the whole ship dark on comms, and I mean it. Fluke, check inventory; Spec, Mirage, you're helping me plot a course to a planet the Jedi intentionally erased off all the maps."
Kabu says, "I can't move him 'til you let go, vod."
Cody makes himself stand up and step away. Turn to the nav computer, ignore the sounds of Ely gathering the General up, Kabu snapping instructions into their comm. He thinks, briefly, of the Temple, how it leaches out stress like lancing a wound.
"Ilum's not on any maps?" Spec asks, sceptical.
"It's one of the last places with significant kyber deposits," Cody says, absently, as he brings up the Unknown Regions. "And kyber's not just good for lightsabers."
"Good place to hide," Mirage says, "Assuming we can find it."
Cody hums. "There's a hyperspace lane from Coruscant…"
"That doesn't exactly narrow it down— Wait, it's in the Unknown Regions?" Mirage pushes Cody out the way, and pulls up her comm. "Hey, Vorn, get up to the bridge, your weird thing about the Unknown Regions is about to actually be useful." Then she turns to Cody, and says, "I'll plot a course for the edge of the Rim, 'til we can pin Ilum down. No need for you to hover, sir."
Cody raises an eyebrow, an expression that strikes terror into the hearts of most of his men. The lieutenants, unfortunately, know too much, and are all unrepentant to a fault.
"It's at least four days away, sir," Spec adds, without looking up from typing out hyperspace calculations. "And the General always wakes up quicker when you're there."
"Stop listening to Rex, he's full of shit," Cody says, but he only levels them both with a hard look for a moment longer, before he leaves for the medbay.
Maybe those four days should include some remedial training. Hand-to-hand, maybe. See if Mirage can still smirk at him like that after he's pinned her to the mats a few dozen times.
Obi-Wan doesn't wake up for almost five hours.
No one else is in the medbay, thank fuck. Cody sits in his usual chair, watches Obi-Wan's chest rise and fall. Doesn't think about Fox. Does his breathing exercises. Sends Crys to get his latest stack of datapads, when the breathing exercises stop working.
He's back to drafting comm messages he can't send when Obi-Wan's eyes finally flicker open.
"We're on course for the Unknown Regions," Cody says, as Obi-Wan sits up, scrubs a hand over his face, "And we've enough rations for a month. Comms are dark, Kabu thinks we're good for bacta so long as we don't run into Ventress, Fluke's got anyone who looked bored enough on maintenance. Might need to stop for fuel, if Ilum's more than a few hours past the Rim. Spec's already petitioning to steal it from pirates."
"Spec's seen too many holodramas," Obi-Wan says, voice rough. "How long was I out?"
Kabu, appearing from fucking nowhere in the grand medic tradition, duel-wielding scanner and datapad, says, "Five hours. Symptoms before your dramatic collapse?"
"Nausea, tinnitus, headache, dark spots in my vision," Obi-Wan lists, well-trained at this point. "It felt rather like my head was gearing up to explode."
"Well, physically you're as good as it gets," Kabu says, and the scanner beeps a confirmation. "So what Force osik is it this time?"
Obi-Wan's eyes narrow, like he's focusing on something far off. "The Force has been… clouded, for some time," he says, slowly. "Not Dark, precisely, but closer than it should be. We had thought it was too far-reaching to be the work of the Sith alone… I'm beginning to suspect that was damningly naive."
Both Kabu's eyebrows shoot up. "The Sith did that?"
"Someone certainly did." Obi-Wan runs a hand through his hair, still looking off at nothing in particular. "Someone who would really, really prefer the Jedi don't connect any dots."
"It gonna make you pass out again?" Cody asks, harsher than he means to.
Obi-Wan smiles at him, through the bond more than with his face. It makes Cody want to do something even stupider than going AWOL. "I don't think so," he says. "It's a block, and I shouldn't need to try to press through it again. At least, not until we get to Ilum."
Cody sighs. "Because you have no idea why we're going to Ilum."
"It's safer than Coruscant." Obi-Wan's eyes go even further distant, like he can see through the wall, through the hull. "The Temple should be defensible. We have to get the younglings somewhere we can—" His mouth snaps shut as he washes over white like he's about to throw up.
It's no question which younglings. There are Sith in the Senate, he'd said. The Jedi won't survive.
The Senate is on Coruscant. There's very few Jedi on Coruscant full-time, now — the younglings, and their caretakers.
"If we're kidnapping little Jetii," Kabu says, "I want medics, too. If you keel over dead, sir, Cody'll shiv me, and then Ely will shiv him, and that'll be it for the war."
"Why do you so delight in saying things I hate to hear."
"Seventh part of the Resol'nare, sir. Aggravating Jetii whenever possible."
As comforting as it is watching them bicker, they've already been AWOL five hours, and if Cody's sure of anything, it's that they're on borrowed time.
"Kabu," he orders, "Go away."
"'Scuse me? This is my medbay—"
"You can't keep your mouth shut," Cody says, "And I need to have some choice words with Obi-Wan."
Kabu pulls a face, but says, "Ugh, fine. Don't break anything," and, blessedly, leaves, meaning Cody and Obi-Wan are the only people in the room.
Meaning Cody can meet Obi-Wan's eyes, dead-on, and say, "This is prescience."
Obi-Wan pulls an almost identical face. "I don't know, it isn't—"
Obi-Wan has a well-known, well-documented habit of downplaying injuries. Dismissing his body. It pissed Cody the fuck off, in the beginning, because Obi-Wan isn't expendable. Obi-Wan isn't supposed to figure the cost/benefit of treating his wounds. And every argument over it ended with Obi-Wan far-off, unreachable, and retreating further still. Walking away to sit on the floor near the engines and meditate.
It took 'til Rattatak, for Cody to understand the pattern. Obi-Wan functions through that distance. If he can avoid it, he will.
Understanding it makes it no less fucking annoying.
"Your instincts are screaming at you," Cody cuts in, over Obi-Wan's pointless denial, "you're speaking without thinking, you're saying bone-chilling shit. This is fucking prescience. The Sith was blocking it. If you do not take it easy, you are going to haemorrhage."
Obi-Wan looks at him for a long moment. "You talked to Bant."
"No," Cody says, "I didn't, because one of the last things out your mouth before you collapsed was to go comms dark. I reread everything she sent."
"The medical texts told you the Sith put up a block against one of the only entirely natural Force abilities?"
"The medical texts reminded me prescience is one of the few things you can do without needing to be trained," Cody snaps, "Bant's notes reminded me you used to come out with horrifying future predictions every other tenday, and that I wasn't decanted karking yesterday meant I put two and two together and got 'it's that pissing Sith's fault'."
Obi-Wan breathes out, leeching the anger out with the air. "And I was unconscious for five hours."
Cody lets him pull their foreheads together. Says, rough around the sudden lump in his throat, "Mirage kicked me off the bridge damn near instantly. I want new lieutenants."
"Of course, dear," Obi-Wan says. "I'm sure we can find someone in Ghost who still respects authority."
Cody's too tired not to laugh at that, even when he knows damn well what Obi-Wan's trying to do. "Shaak sends us the ornery kids on purpose."
"You asked her to."
"You said," Cody breathes in, lump in his throat growing, dread rising up like he's stood sinking in it, "About the tubies. The cadets."
Obi-Wan says, with a sinking feeling of his own, "Ah. Yes, I did, didn't I."
"We're moving away from Kamino. There's no secret hyperlane to Kamino."
"They'll be fine," Obi-Wan says. Promises. "We'll get them out, I swear. Ryloth owes us."
Cody barks another, rougher laugh. "Ryloth hates us."
"Ryloth hates the Republic," Obi-Wan says, voice hollow with prescience again, and Cody's sure Bant's notes mentioned something about heavy frequency being dangerous, and he's just contemplating knocking Obi-Wan back out when Obi-Wan continues, "The clones are pawns to be used, just as they are. They will help, when asked."
The way Obi-Wan's eyes are unfocusing isn't helping with Cody's building panic attack. "We're gonna shelter the children on a heavily bombed planet currently under forceful military occupation."
"No," Obi-Wan says. "Anakin will free Ryloth."
"Okay. Think I liked it better when you couldn't do this, actually."
"I didn't notice," Obi-Wan says, a different kind of hollow, "I didn't notice, I should have noticed, that's— That's—"
Cody climbs onto the bed, into Obi-Wan's lap, pulls Obi-Wan into his arms, and says, "No, hey, we can't both have a panic attack. I was first. We're still days from Ilum, you can do this tomorrow."
"Or," Obi-Wan pushes his face into Cody's ribs, like he always does, like he's a tooka in bad disguise, "Kabu sedates us both, and neither of us have a panic attack."
"We just went AWOL, cyare, we have to ration the seds."
"We get drunk, then."
"Were you listening, when I told you I just reread Bant's field guide?"
Obi-Wan makes a very tooka-like aggrieved noise and pushes his face further into Cody's ribs.
Cody brings a hand up to run through his hair. They both ignore the shaking. "The comms. What's wrong with the comms?"
"I would love to be able to tell you," Obi-Wan says, a little muffled. "Dangerous. Very non-specifically, very urgently dangerous. You know those warning signs on Coruscant's lowest levels?"
"The comms are toxic waste?"
"No, it's a contagion," Obi-Wan says, and then shudders. "Fuck. I don't know if conversation is the best idea, dearest."
"Kabu made us promise not to fuck in their medbay."
"We don't have to—"
"You are not leaving this room until you're symptom-free."
"Well I can't live here," Obi-Wan starts. Cody twists the hand in his hair and tugs, so the rest of the sentence dies in Obi-Wan's throat.
Then he sighs, lets go, and uses his free hand to grab the nearest datapad. "Alright," he says, closing the medical textbook and swiping quickly through their options, "Unredacting it is. C'mon, it looks like a person, gimme some pronouns."