Chapter Text
Ben threw one last look at his young student before he closed his eyes, a brief smile touched his lips. He did not see bright red lightsaber cut the place where he was just a moment ago in half, did not feel the heat of it burn his skin as he became one with the Force.
For a few moments he felt warmth and peace, the Force embraced him loving and welcoming, like a parent meeting their child after a long separation. Ben let it seep into him, through him, making him lighter than he felt in many years. Too many, if one was to ask. Ben discarded that thought, it was not important before and surely was not important now.
But then, something changed. The Force sparkled around - inside? - him with sadness and sympathy. Ben was a little confused and, he might admit it, curious. All his life he was told that when one joined the Force it was like entering the endless ocean of tranquility and harmony, their consciousness fading merging with thousands of others. But well, it wasn’t like any living being could have known for sure. Jedi or not. And his own lineage had a few things to say about fading into the Force. Ben chuckled, earning himself an amused twirl from the Force.
The Force tugged him lightly, pulling him deeper within itself. Ben relaxed, letting his memories play before his eyes, after a gentle prompt from the Force. He watched wistfully, his smile small and fond as he saw his friends once again. Bant Eerin, Garen Muln, Quinlan Vos, Siri Tachi, Luminara Undil, Feemor Igey… Master Qui-Gon and Master Tahl… Satine Kryze… Master Windu and Master Plo Koon…
Ben smiled upon seeing the bright and energetic face of his former Padawan Anakin Skywalker. Although their meeting and Anakin’s subsequent apprenticeship happened because of a tragedy, Ben did not regret it even after Anakin’s Fall. Ben knew he was not perfect, far from it, no matter that Anakin might have thought, he had his flaws and failings, he had made mistakes as a mentor and as a Jedi both. He had made peace with them during his years on Tatooine. And he was certain that Anakin would find his way back to the Light. Eventually. His Padawan was nothing but stubborn, the trait that was surely inherent by his whole lineage. Young Luke was much like his father. Ben would do everything within his power to help Luke on his path.
But he got distracted. Ben turned his attention back to the memories. Oh. He recognized that moment. Ben chuckled, watching his Commander scold a couple of shinies. It was one of the rare moments between battles when they could relax, placing their weapons down. The memories enrolled, slowly and yet as if in a blink of an eye coming to the end of the war. Utapau. Ben remembered his confusion, pain and devastation when his men turned their weapons on him.
He still did not know why they chose to betray them, to believe the lie that the Order wanted to destroy the Republic. It still stung a little when he thought about it on Tatooine but at the same time he could not blame them. They must have been deceived or fooled, like the whole Republic have been. And Ben, not for the first time, could admit that the Order was at fault here too. Not only they did not notice the Sith under their own noses, they also forgot about the true purpose of the Order. The Jedi distanced themselves away from the very people whom they were supposed to help and protect. They became unapproachable, cold, emotionless creatures who parents used to frighten their naughty children.
With great sadness, Ben recalled all those times, when mothers clutched their children to their chests, refusing to let them ‘be turned into flesh droids’ while fathers tried to scare the Seekers away with weapons.
And their troopers, oh, the Order failed them greatly. Those brilliant men, who shone so brightly in the Force, looked at the world with such curiosity and wonder, they were so unique, disputing the insistence that they were just clones, therefore absolutely identical. They were bred for war; they knew nothing else and were ready to die for Republicans who did not even regard them as people and looked at them with disdain and disgust. They were proud to do so…
Remembering the few facts he knew about the clones’ true training and upbringing, Ben felt his anger and anguish spike. They did not deserve it. No one did.
The Force soothed Ben, offering him a little comfort. His men… Ben loved them all, the 212th became his second family in a very short time. He had a suspicion that Master Plo Koon would agree with him, given some of his interactions with the Wolfpack. It was one of the reasons why he was not able to blame them for turning on him. And also, why it had hurt so much.
Ben’s memories halted, ending in a flash or red light. The Force tingled, curled around him in anticipation. What was it waiting for? Was it time already to help Luke? Surely Master Yoda was yet to run him into the ground? The Force hummed negatively, confusing Ben. Everything around him faded, leaving him floating in the Force. He was sinking deeper and deeper, his thoughts disappearing, his mind pleasantly empty. The Force caressed him one more time and then let go.
Ben fell.
…
…
…
He opened his eyes. It took him a moment to figure out what woke him up. Ben turned his head to the side, searching for the source of the sound. His gaze landed on a young man in Jedi robes. He had a Padawan haircut, his braid was slung over his shoulder.
“Master? Are you alright?” Ben’s young - very young - Padawan Anakin Skywalker, who looked no older than fourteen, asked him in concern. Ben could only stare. What the kriff was happening?
***
CC-2224 gripped his blaster tight, as he watched Lord Vader face the traitor. Blue blade met red, but CC-2224 did not let himself get distracted. He knew exactly what the traitor was capable of. He, after all, served under his command for years. It was unwise to underestimate him, even though he was old. It made him even more dangerous and unpredictable. CC-2224 watched the duel, ready to leap in to protect Lord Vader if needed. Then, the traitor glanced to the side, held his lightsaber vertically, bowed a little, a small smile danced in the corner of his lips, closed his eyes and disappeared - distantly, Cody screamed in anguish in the back of CC-2224’s mind - leaving only a pile of robes on the floor.
A scream from one of the intruders caught CC-2224’s and the troopers’ attention. It was time to get back to his duties. CC-2224 shot at the young man, the other troopers followed his lead. The young man and his friends started shooting back. One lucky shot caught CC-2224 by surprise. He fell on his back; his breath became labored. He knew no one would think about healing him, he was expendable like all troopers were. CC-2224 closed his eyes and welcomed the soothing embrace of death.
…
…
…
He woke up with a start at the sound of voices. His eyes shot open and he was greeted by the sight he thought he would never see again. A familiar face looked down at him, brows furrowed. He stared right back, barely daring to breathe. “CC-2224? Get up, vod, we’re gonna be late.” The boy, who CC-2224 was pretty sure was his vod, said with a frown. He nodded, too shocked to talk. The boy nodded and turned around, quickly putting on his clothes. CC-2224 - no, Cody, he was Cody and he refused to think about himself as a number, he has been answering to it for too long already - sat up on his bunk, surveying the room he was in with a quick, efficient gaze. He saw twenty or so other clones getting dressed, some of whom looked vaguely familiar. Cody had not seen another vod in almost twenty years and now, seeing so many and so young - Force! They looked even younger than shinies - in one place was overwhelming. It looked like they were between four or five years old. But that was impossible, no one was commissioning clones anymore, so how could Cody be among a group so young?
Cody closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, habitually using the calming technique his General had taught him - gentle voice encouraged him, walking him through the steps - many years ago. It happened after a particularly devastating campaign, the General wanted to make sure that all troopers were alright and-
Cody’s mind came to a screeching halt as a horrible thought hit him worse than a missile. The General – he had ordered to kill his General. Why? Why did he do it? Cody frantically scrambled his memories for the answer. They had won the war, Grievous was dead, the General had killed him. Cody had returned his lightsaber, the General mounted his Boga and sped away and then…
He received a call. From the Chancellor himself, who ordered him to execute Order 66. And as soon as he uttered those words something in Cody’s mind switched, filling him with rage toward his General. How dare they? His brothers were dying, fighting for the Republic, and these traitors wanted to overthrow their government? He had watched gleefully as the traitor fell down the cliff towards his death.
But wait. How did he know what exactly Order 66 was? He did not remember it from the protocol list or the list of special commands. But as soon as the words left the Chancellor’s lips, he knew what he had to do. He knew that the Jedi were traitors and that he had to exterminate them on sight.
But Cody knew his General, he would even go so far to think that they were friends. Why all of the sudden he decided to believe the Chancellor’s words without any evidence, to turn on his General, on the man who treated him and his vod’e like real people, who sacrificed everything for them and the Republic? How could he order to shoot an unsuspecting man in the back, without a trial, like a mindless butcher who did not care about justice and truth?
It was getting harder to breathe, was he dying again? No, no, no, he could not die now, he had to apologize to the General, he had to tell him he was sorry-
Except he could not do it. Lord Vader had killed his General in front of Cody’s own eyes.
He was supposed to protect the General - Cody, please, call me Obi-Wan - he was born solely for that purpose!
“Vod, snap out of it! What the kriff is wrong with you?”
And now General Kenobi was dead. He had died fighting, like a true Mandalorian, even though he was a Jedi himself. But at least he died fighting for the right cause.
“-don’t know! He just started wheezing-”
“-have to do something before the longnecks noti-”
A sharp slap across his face triggered Cody’s automatic reaction. His hand shot up, catching his attacker’s arm, and he threw himself at them. His body felt wrong - he was tiny too, little gods - but Cody didn’t let it stop him. He had his attacker on the floor face down, in less than twenty seconds.
“-d, vod, calm down! It’s just us, come on!” A high-pitched voice called, breaking the haze in Cody’s mind. His head whipped around so he could stare at the boy who yelled at him. The boy’s eyes were open wide in alarm as he stared nervously at Cody.
“Alright, vod, you are alright, now, let ‘04 go.” Another boy, no, vod, ordered sternly. It was the same boy who woke him up. And now, looking closely at him, Cody realized that he knew him.
“Wolffe?” He whispered, not taking his eyes from his long - maybe not that long, how would he know? There was nothing about him on the records - dead batchmate. Wolffe frowned, taking a step closer.
“What? I’m CC-3636, you forgot? Did you hit your head, ‘24?” Cody gulped, shaking his head a little, jolting the boy under him and causing him to wince.
Cody jumped off the boy - vod - like he was on fire, staring down at him. The boy rolled over to sit, rubbing his arm. The one that Cody yanked. Kriff. The boy looked up at Cody with a grimace. Sith hells, Cody knew him too. It was Gree. Gree who was declared KIA not long after the battle of Utapau. And now he was sulking at Cody, sending him a glare.
“What’s gotten into you, vod? I was just trying to help!” Gree exclaimed, accepting a helping hand from yet another vod - Neyo, Cody’s mind supplied helpfully - and standing up. Cody nodded, almost feeling the gears in his head whirling, trying to process what was happening. Was it some kind of afterlife? The Vod’e had a belief that their dead brothers were waiting for them on the other side. But Cody couldn’t comprehend why their afterlife looked so much like Kamino’s standard dorm and why his brothers were so young. It did not make any sense! Wolffe did not even recognize his own name!
“Come on, vod’e. There is nothing here, go get ready.” Another clone commanded, stepping through the boys, closer to Cody. Fox - Cody almost giggled hysterically - put his hand on Cody’s arm, steering him toward his bunk. The other clones grumbled among themselves but obeyed, returning to their usual routine.
Cody let Fox maneuver him onto the bunk. He sat down readily, his mind buzzing, searching for an explanation of the situation he was in. If that was the afterlife, why were they so young and on Kamino? It was the place they were born, but Cody could hardly call it their home. He would have guessed that he would wake up on the Negotiator after his death. Or on some less awful planet. Was he not supposed to be happy in the afterlife?
Why would you? You betrayed your General, your friend, you do not deser-
Fox crossed his arms, glaring down at Cody. Cody stared right back, not knowing what else to do. Fox raised an eyebrow, waiting for something. “Well, we don’t have all the rotation. Talk.” Fox barked in a grim tone. Cody suppressed the flinch, his face automatically going blank. He straightened up, raised his chin and calmly met Fox’s gaze. Fox wavered, blinking hard, his stance becoming unsure.
‘He is surprised.’ Cody realized with a jolt. Fox looked determined to get some answers out of Cody, but the Commander could see right through him, had too much experience reading his brothers like a stack of flimsy. And Fox was unsure of what to do. He wanted to help Cody, that much was evident, but he did not know how. And he was unused to Cody’s ‘Commander’s face’. That conclusion made Cody look closer at his brother.
Fox who Cody knew was a tough soldier who believed the law to be most important. He served on Coruscant, protecting its inhabitants and the Senate. He always looked tired when they gathered together in some cantina.
Bly loved teasing him. He would always team up with Rex and they would try their best to piss him off. Fox always threatened to lock them up in a jail. Always.
He had a permanent scowl on his face that would send a lesser man running in fear. He was quick to deal with a threat and was very efficient in following the Senate’s orders. Cody involuntarily recalled the incident with Ahsoka - General Skywalker’s Padawan - and Fives’ death after that. But he loved his brothers like any other vod did, although he had some trouble showing it. Grim humor, rare smiles, sharp calculating eyes. That was his batchmate, his vod and Cody loved him.
Fox who currently looked at Cody was yet to become that man. Far too young. Now, as Cody was actually looking, he made a guess that he was four. His features were yet to harden, he did not have most of his scars and had no tattoos. He did not seem confident like his older self was. Sure, he did have some confidence, but it was not on the same level. His stance and eyes were giving him away. It almost seemed like he had yet to learn all his tricks. But how could that be?
Cody was lost. This place was strange. It was all too similar to his childhood on Kamino. Maybe he should look for his General? He was dead, surrounded by his equally dead Vod'e, was it too bold to assume that General Kenobi was somewhere here too?
Fox’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Come on, ‘24, get ready. I don’t want to get reprimanded because you suddenly went crazy.” He grumbled with a sigh, walking away toward his own bunk. Cody could only gawk after him. But he stood up nonetheless, getting ready for the day. The process was automatic, even with his old/new tiny four year old body. Force, why was he so small? Cody did not need to think about his motions, leaving him free to ponder over his condition.
He made a mental list.
One. He was either having a very weird dream or vod’e's afterlife was extremely strange.
Two. He had to lay low. If it was not a dream or an afterlife, then it was something else entirely. It was possibly very dangerous too. He needed to blend in and gather more information.
Three. He needed more allies. His batchmates did not indicate that they remembered him - the real him, not only CC-2224 - but that did not mean anything. He had to act carefully, maybe there was someone who knew what was going on.
Four. He had to find his General. Or find out if he was here at all.
Satisfied, Cody nodded to himself, straightening his clothes. The fabric was rough and scratchy, making his skin itch but it was a familiar feeling, so he quickly stopped paying attention to it. He hurried toward the doors, taking his usual place in line next to Bly. If this place was indeed based on his childhood, Cody knew better than attracting the longnecks’ ire.
He would play along. He would figure this out. And he sure as hell would find his General. For now, Cody had to observe and take notes. He took a deep breath. He could do it. The pair in the head of the line (Wolffe and Grey) opened the doors, leading their group out of the room. Cody easily matched their pace, soothed by familiar marching. He could do it.
He did not have another option.