Chapter 1: there's a hole where something was
Chapter Text
The moment Cody was handed Luke, and ordered to place his physical, mental, and emotional health and safety over everything else, he had the ability to become Cody again after five years of the chip and CC-2224 holding him down.
The chip knew that it hadn’t been programmed to take care of a child. Given an order to place a child’s safety above all else, Cody found himself freed just enough to think from the thick weight that had pressed him into the back of his own mind, dragging him out only to figure out what Lord Vader would want to hear. Now it needs all of him, so he can begin to plan, and move his own fingers and toes and mouth. He didn’t have time to relish that feeling, though, as the chip propelled him forward in the conversation.
“Above all directives, Lord Vader?” He looks down at the kid who can’t be more than five, and back up at An at Lord Vader. At the man he’s been shadowing since the order. It doesn’t stop his mouth from continuing to move. “Caring for a child is most practically a full time endeavor.”
“My child’s safety is now the most important thing in your life, CC-2224. You will safeguard him from all harm, and at whatever cost.”
Cody looks into the kid’s eyes. He does look a bit like he imagines Lord Vader could have looked like as a child. But he also looks like he expects to be hurt, instead of arrogant and powerful. There’s some tears welling up in the corner of his eyes, and Cody scoops him up and holds him close. Touch is important for children, even if provided by someone dressed in red and black, with an imposing helmet.
Touch is important for him, who hasn’t received it in ages except when fighting, unless Lord Vader was sobbing into his impassive chest.
“Lord Vader, it could become expensive, providing for him. I do not receive a salary, and without a stipend, raising a child can be very difficult.”
Lord Vader waves a hand, a slow and ponderous motion, especially now that Cody is more able to think. His memories had become foggy, almost completely faded as his body completed tasks for the Empire. Remembering what Lord Vader was like will prepare him to care for his child, and he will complete his tasks. He has always completed his tasks for Lord Vader.
“That has been taken care of. An account, linked directly to the Emperor’s. Every half-month, an appropriate sum will be deposited into it.”
“Children can be very expensive, Lord Vader. A simple clone cost almost half a million Republic credits, if given advanced training. I do not wish to fail in my task.”
He rubs the child’s back, just a bit. Trying to be soothing, as he discusses the child’s costs like he doesn’t exist, breaking down the cost of his own self, even before the modifications done in service of the Empire.
He pauses. There’s no way of knowing Lord Vader has given him the correct name and pronouns. That is something that he will have to ask the child later. Right now, he holds him a bit closer, and lets the part of his brain that he can’t control run the conversation while he plans out how to get the child out of here. This is, unequivocally, the worst place to raise a child. Well. Possibly it could get worse, if the Emperor wanted to raise him.
“Would half a million per half month suffice? He should be able to receive everything he needs and desires. And only the best.” Lord Vader nods, like this is a profound statement. “Everything and anything.”
“Yes, an automatic payment of half a million every half a month, with the first payment now, sounds quite reasonable to raise your child, Lord Vader. I’m sure that no one could ever imply otherwise.” The Emperor will almost definitely imply otherwise, if the matter is ever raised. He certainly got snippy enough about Lord Vader keeping CC-2224 around. Hopefully it won’t be discussed. “Will the account be traceable? I would not wish the Rebels to track your child’s location through this account.”
Cody tunes out Lord Vader’s rant on Imperial and Rebel incompetence. CC-2224 listens, and makes the proper attentive noises. What matters is that Lord Vader agrees, he will have the bank make the account untraceable and send CC-2224 the details and control of it later today. Cody decides it will probably be something he has to check, anyways. Lord Vader’s slicing was never as good, after the war. He shifts his hold on the child slightly, repositioning him, and nods.
“Does he have assigned quarters, Lord Vader?”
“Of course. One of the unused family rooms near the Inquisitors’ quarters has been set aside for his purposes. You will also live there, and remain with him at all times. You are released from your assignment at my side, CC-2224.”
Cody does not wince internally, because he fears that Lord Vader can read at least his basic emotions, even through the shielding he learned on Kamino and the weight of CC-2224 pressed upon him. He’d commented on it enough, before the war, and right after. Now he does not appear to believe Cody capable of emotion, and he would like for him to retain that belief.
“Do I have the right to requisition anything necessary for his well-being?”
“Yes. You will be updated with the appropriate authorizations in your new quarters. Dismissed, Commander.”
Cody salutes as best as he can, holding a child, and marches off. He’s aware that his armor is not likely to be comfortable for the child to be pressed against, and that he would most likely be slightly reassured by being able to put a face to Cody. Although it might not help if he ends up having to take the kid to his training of backing up Inquisitors and being trained to take down traitors.
He didn’t need the training when the Order went out. It’s not something he needs now. But he won’t tell them that, or point out all the flaws in their lightsaber combat that the traitor he killed would have. His traitor. His traitor. His traitor. Fuck. That hasn’t changed. A former traitor has handed him his own child, and told him that that kid’s safety is important, and he can still only call them traitors.
The kid whimpers, very quietly, and Cody hitches him up again. Right. Kid. He can’t talk like he normally does, like his mouth is already opening to form around. The militaristic, clipped style, he’s pretty sure that natborn kids view that as them being in trouble.
“There is no need to worry, child.” Cody wrestles his mouth back under control, shoving the logic through the chip. He’s going to be doing a lot of this, he can tell. “I’m going to take care of you. What do you want to be called, kid?”
The kid looks up at him and then away, hiding his face, and Cody sighs.
“Okay. You don’t have to tell me, and I’ll call you kid until you’re ready to tell me.”
He doesn’t know what kids need. Presumably they’re different, when they’re not clones. He doesn’t even really remember much of being a kid, although he does remember comforting the younger vode. He tries gently rubbing the kid’s back as they stalk through the base, watching people do everything short of point as they notice and whisper. It’s not like kids are that unusual, although they’re normally washed out by both the dress blacks of Inquisitors-in-training and the fact that none of them have seen natural light in years, not dressed in loose sandy beiges and glowing slightly like the sun infused the child.
Literally sandy, Cody notes, as a cleaning droid sweeps after them. So the kid will probably like food from desert worlds. Or at least he hopes. He can trial and error this, since he’s going to have to learn how to cook anyways.
Cody opens the door to their new quarters.
“How do you feel about ration bars, kid?”
The kid makes a quiet disgusted noise, and Cody grins. He’s willing to express opinions, that’s good. That will help.
“Yeah, well. I can’t cook, so you’re stuck with them for a bit, unless you think the caf rations are better.”
The kid makes an even grosser face and sticks his tongue out, going blech. Not something he inherited from Lord Vader.
“Mm, can’t blame you there. Your options are still ration bars or mess hall rations, though. See, no kitchen.” Cody puts the kid down, and watches him walk around the new place. It’s got an actual living room, which Cody didn’t believe existed on this station. It seems a bit of a waste of space to build underwater, but what does he know? The fact that no officer of the Empire has ever brought their family to this station doesn’t matter, because now he can use it for the kid.
“Has a kettle.”
Cody’s head snaps over to the kid, who is pointing at a kettle.
“Yeah, you’re right. It does have a kettle.” Cody slips off his helmet, tucking it under one arm, and heads over. “Do you want to do something with the kettle?”
The kid blinks up at his face, looking confused. Cody’s not entirely sure why. His face is pretty normal- scarred, and now tattooed. Fuck. He raises hand to trace the tattoo.
“I can put my helmet back on, kid, would that be better?”
The kid shakes his head.
“Okay. Will you tell me what you want to do with the kettle?”
“... Noodles?” The kid’s voice is quiet, so Cody has to strain his ears to hear it. “Please?”
Cody vaguely remembers the packets of noodles that could be fixed up with hot water. Some of the traitors had had to be forced to eat ration bars to get a full meal in them.
“I don’t think we have any noodles, kid, but I can see if I can requisition some. Sound good?”
The kid nods, and goes back to looking at the kettle.
“Is there something else you want?”
“... Make it better?”
Cody blinks at him.
“I don’t know how to make it better, sorry.”
“I can make it better. Tools?” The kid heads to the sink and starts rummaging around underneath it, pulling out a tool box. Of course they left a tool box under the sink somewhere where there would be a child. The kid holds it up. “Okay?”
“Uh- yeah. Okay. Just don’t use them to leave the room without me, kid. I can’t keep you safe if you run off, and there’s a lot of people that aren’t used to kids.”
The kid nods solemnly at him, and Cody for a moment is crushed under the weight of responsibility. He’s supposed to take care of this kid? Keep him safe? Cody doesn’t even know where to start. No, he quickly tells himself, he does know, and he will learn, and CC-2224 won’t do any better in any circumstance. Kids don’t do well being raised by any type of droid, including meat droids, unless they’re specialized, and CC-2224 is not a specialized nurse droid.
One step at a time. There have to be parents who don’t know how to take care of their kids. And if there’s one thing he learned from listening to Fox complain about the Senators and their incessant ordering of books, there’s books for everything. So there have to be books for parents.
Cody rummages in the cabinets of the living room, and pulls out a datapad. CC-2224 barely had clearance to see his own mission reports and briefings, so Cody’s not hoping to be able to pull up anything good to learn from. He logs in with his credentials and blinks.
Why can he see the reports for the Empire’s movements all over the galaxy? What the fuck sort of clearance did Lord Vader think was needed to raise a child? Just because Lord Vader’s Masters had been in charge of armies didn’t mean that was required to raise a child.
Cody reaches out to - no. That would be detrimental to the efforts of the Empire, and he is a good soldier, who follows orders. His orders are to ensure the safety of Lord Vader’s child in every manner possible, and if any traitors are found to remain, as always, he is to eliminate them. Good soldiers follow orders. Changing troop deployments will not help with that. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good-
Cody shakes CC-2224’s head. Can’t help the kid if he’s stuck in a loop, chip shoving him back down. Right. So, no more of that. Focus only on things that will materially help the kid. He starts arranging for ships to be decommissioned by being abandoned on random planets, stripped of identity. The more he scatters, the less chance he can be tracked through any one of them, and the more people will need to check when they disappear.
He winces, holding the side of his head.
They need to disappear, he tells himself, tells the chip, CC-2224, because this is not a safe environment for the kid. Lord Vader was not a healthy father to have, especially with the influence of Emperor Palpatine. And Emperor Palpatine may be was a glorious ruler who brought peace and security to the Empire, but his last recorded interaction with a child led to that child living a life of pain and suffering. So keeping the kid away from Lord Vader and Emperor Palpatine was going to be one of Cody’s most important tasks. And in order to do that, he needed to leave as much chaff as possible in the wind, to distract.
He couldn’t remember all the missions he had been on, when he had had to use similar tactics. There were things that he could not think about, still.
While he was at it, he also requisitioned various noodles for the kid. Getting food into him was more important than nutritionally balanced, right now. Noodles, ships, and if they could make it half a month here, they’d have a million credits. With some clever investments, Cody should be able to get anything the kid would need. And he’s going to need to get some things done for himself, if he wants to be sure he’s around to keep the kid safe until he’s not a kid anymore. No one on base would accept that, and there’s too many people that could take over for him, so he’s just going to have to requisition a highly advanced med-droid for the kid and him to take with them. Kids get into enough trouble that that will be helpful anyways.
“Hey, kid?”
“Mm?”
The kid looks up from where he’s completely disassembled the kettle.
“I’m requisitioning things for you. Anything you want?”
“... The noodles?”
“Yeah, I got the noodles.”
Cody should probably try and get the kid to not chew at his bottom lip. But probably not something to focus on.
“... No.”
Cody frowns and turns back to the pad. He’s pretty sure that kids need things to do. He’ll look up books, and appropriate toys for kids. And maybe some sort of stuffed animal? A lot of kids he met during the war had stuffed animals. Hm, desert planet. He thinks he knows a perfect stuffed animal to get the kid. Lord Vader reminisced enough, in his more maudlin moments, that Cody had built an image of Tatooine.
He places the orders, and lays back on the couch to start browsing through parenting books and downloading the ones he thinks sound applicable. From there, he’ll start skimming, and figure out what the kid will need, and how it’s different for natborns. He’s pretty sure, at least, that they never flashtrain natborns.
CC-2224 hears a click and a whistle and dives off the couch, brain telling him there’s a bomb a missile strike something before Cody hears the kid whimper and realizes it’s the kettle as he sits back up and looks over.
“I made it better, I promise, don’t be mad?” The kid is cringing away from him, almost in the cupboard under the sink. “It’s faster now, and you said I could.”
Okay. This is probably one of those things that he’s supposed to support? Already having mechanical prowess at what’s something like age two for a trooper would have impressed anyone in Tipioca, at least, gotten the cadet a possible assignment to Command track. And he needs to make sure that the kid knows that if he has permission, Cody won’t be upset.
“I’m impressed, kid, not mad. I just wasn’t expecting the noise,” Cody manages as he picks himself up off the floor. “Do you want to tell me how you did that?”
When the kid smiles at him and starts babbling about wires and speed and heat, Cody figures he’s probably got a pretty good chance of getting him out of here decently well adjusted and happy, if just supporting him a bit is helping him this much.
Chapter 2: How to Manipulate Medical Supplies Out of Your Boss
Summary:
Surviving on an Imperial base turns out to be a lot harder and a lot easier when you have a semblance of free will and a kid.
Chapter Text
Despite his best efforts, Cody was now pretty sure that the kid was not getting out of here without trauma. It’s only a few days until they’re supposed to leave, and the kid is scheduled to start training with the Inquisitors. And he still hasn’t been trusted with the kid’s name from the kid. Luke Vader didn’t seem.... Right.
“Okay, kid, talk it through with me. What are you going to do?”
“Be good for the Inquisitor n’don’t talk back.”
“... Yeah. And if they do anything, you’ve got your vibroknife and com?”
The kid nodded, and pulled them both out of his boot to show Cody.
“Okay. And you call me, right away, and I’ll come get you. It doesn’t matter whose com you use, if yours gets broken or taken.”
The kid nods again, and Cody stands up, wincing a bit. Probably what he gets, making it all the way to 18. Bones creaking. He stretches, careful not to aggravate his leg. It could be worse. When Lord Vader picked him up, took CC-2224 and decided that he was going to be Lord Vader’s right hand man, now, he’d decided to make sure that he wouldn’t lose his memento of the war to old age. It was some of the least traumatic gene therapy he’d ever had done, at least, because he barely remembered it. But being a roughly thirty one year old who’d been at war or in war games his whole life probably didn’t do anything good to his knees. And the prosthetic definitely didn’t.
“Right. Come on, I’ll show you where to go.” He holds out his hand, and the kid takes it. “I’m here for you, and your safety. So ... just hold on.” Just a few days, and they’ll be out.
The kid nods, and heads off. Cody's given him instructions, knowing that showing up with an adult was not going to be good for him and what the Inquisitor would do. Fuck, whoever it was had better not hurt the kid. Too much. He knows that the kid will get hurt, and just wants it to be as little as possible.
CC-2224 has his own training to get to, though. Apparently Lord Vader had decided that if CC-2224 was not going to be shadowing him and enforcing his will, he would need training. Like sending a dog on a walk. Cody straps the red pauldron of the Purge Trooper Commander on, the only standard element of his armor left, after Lord Vader’s tinkering, and heads out. He’s going to have to balance training carefully today. Instead of the steady knowing, the feed of data from the chip, now there’s a new element, and Cody can’t let that get himself caught. He may be able to win battles against the Inquisitors, because unlike the chip, he’s been absorbing their patterns and weaknesses, where to strike.
That doesn’t mean that he will.
Winning would most likely mean his decommissioning, now that Lord Vader isn’t around to growl at people. He twirls the electrobatons idly, looking at his opponent for the day. Different from the past week, so he supposes Second Sister is busy somewhere else.
Now, it’s Fifth Brother. Never turns his lightsaber down to training level, and is rather too reliant on the spinning mode. Cody lets CC-2224 take the first half of the battle, watching idly as Fifth Brother attempts to decapitate, dismember, or otherwise maim and kill Cody. He always had something out for the clones, and Cody wasn’t sure why, honestly. He was a model soldier, who followed orders, and took care of his tasks.
In the second half, it’s time to test how much better he can do.
“Come on, clone,” Fifth Brother taunts. “Get a bit closer, show me why you haven’t been tossed aside yet.”
Cody continues to fight passionlessly, watching Fifth Brother overextend, slip up, and nearly trip. Sloppy, he notes. Ahsoka would have already-
He pauses, and then goes on the attack. There are ten different places in Fifth Brother’s routine where a well-placed electrobaton could have killed Fifth Brother, and he doesn’t take any of those, but he does clip the panting wannabe-Sith on the side and make him call the session.
He bows, as if nothing is out of normal, and his breathing is perfectly even.
“Fuck you, acting like you’re better than all of us. Some sort of clone superiority complex, you never talk, you act like you don’t need any of us.”
Cody looks at him with a black helmet and a blank face.
“I apologize, Fifth Brother. I was unaware that you would desire communication with a clone. What would you like to discuss?”
His tone is flat, and his mind is blank, just as it was when the chip was the only one in control. His mind lacks even his own desperate misery, now that he is capable of taking control. Fifth Brother snorts.
“Worse than a fucking droid, not even offering up conversational topics. Can’t manage a branching tree?”
“Sorry, sir?”
Fifth Brother waves a hand, sneering.
“Dismissed, 2224. You will return to practice tomorrow.”
Cody bows, sheathes his weapons, and leaves. He has multiple bruises across his body, including a bruised rib, and he just hurts. The moment he’s in the corridor, he checks his comm. Nothing had pushed through on alert from the kid, so he’s... hopefully okay. Fuck, Cody hopes that the kid is okay. He doesn’t know who’s supposed to be training the cadets.
It doesn’t matter. CC-2224 has blaster training next, teaching his own (older) cadets. They’re all shit, but good enough for the Empire now, so. It doesn’t matter that the Kaminoans would have decommissioned all of them, because standards were falling everywhere, if you bothered to listen to officers. Cody had always been of the opinion that you shouldn’t, unless the officer in question was him, in which case you’d better listen to him you idiot.
Probably part of why he had gotten along with the traitors.
He winces as the side of his head twinges and he corrects. That was probably part of why the traitors had been able to fool him for so long, he thinks. Because their styles had been, at the end of the day, much the same. He wants to encourage these kids, slowly work them towards better blaster safety, better aim, anything he can do, into becoming their own people, like the traitors had helped coax him into being.
He can’t do that. For a number of reasons it’s best not to examine too closely.
CC-2224 can’t be a bad teacher either. He has been told to teach them, and shape them into tools of the Empire while not caring for Lord Vader’s child. So he just continues, same as he has been, perfectly average, because that’s all that CC-2224 can be. Being good, truly good, requires more initiative, requires a bit of freedom and belief. He doesn’t have those. And he doesn’t impart them to his recruits.
Those belong to Cody.
Cody shudders and does what he’s gotten quite good at: looks away from his own thoughts. It won’t help anyone to think of what he could have done if he had tried to fight the chip more. He’d felt himself dragged up just because the chip thought that he was the best option for taking care of the kid. At least it knew its own damn limitations.
It had been years of being CC-2224, and then Purge Trooper 2224, with Cody curled into the back of his own mind, forced to see his body act without any input. Forced to watch Lord Vader commit atrocities, kill people who had been his friends, and have the chip drag out pithy statements that had never been Vader’s to take. It had almost been a blessing that he hadn’t been able to feel what he did. He had just had to watch. Watch plans fail that he could have fixed, if he had been free.
He still won’t fix anything, but he can’t do anything but go along with the flow for now. And he still can’t cry. Too much of a chance that one of the Force-sensitives on the base will pick it up and realize that something is wrong. That he has a chance to be something approaching free, now.
Frankly, he’s heard of worse reasons to raise a kid.
His comm beeps.
Time to pick up the kid.
Waiting to leave to pick up the kid was a mistake. Cody’s got his hand on the kid’s back, and he can’t pick him up, despite the fact that the kid clearly needs it. He remains passive, even as Second Sister attempts to loom and intimidate him.
It doesn’t work on CC-2224. There’s no reason for the chip to worry. So CC-2224 remains at attention, except for the hand Cody is using to attempt to comfort the kid.
“You’re coddling him.”
CC-2224 stands at attention.
“He can’t learn in an environment with no consequences,” she hisses, circling the two of them. Cody saw the burns on the kid. That's the consequences, as far as he’s concerned. “And he tried to stab me. Did you provide the knife, trooper?”
“I distributed the standard kit to my charge, Second Sister.”
She whips around and stabs the vibroknife into his pauldron. That’ll take some bacta, if he can get it. No guarantees, now. CC-2224 continues to look straight ahead.
“No more knives. He comes to me with his mind, and he will learn to use it as the weapon it should be.”
“Yes, Second Sister.”
Her helmet tilts to the side, and he gets a sense of amusement.
“Nothing, Commander. Do not circumvent me with other weapons.”
“Sir?”
“No, of course. Give my regards to Fifth Brother.”
“Sir.”
She sounds too amused. His mind is blank. She turns and leaves, and as the door swishes shut behind her, Cody inclines his head to look down at the kid.
“Do you need me to carry you, kid?”
He looks up at Cody and tears are gathering in his eyes.
“I want to go home.”
Cody leans down and carefully picks up the kid.
“I’m sorry, kid, I can’t take you there. But I can take you back to our room, okay? I’ll bandage you up there.”
The kid nods, and clings to him. He isn’t making any noises, and Cody’s done some of the reading, he knows that kids are supposed to cry, and seek support, and he doesn’t know what it means that the kid is already knowing he needs to stay silent. Nothing good, he’s sure.
Once he closes and locks the door behind them, the kid starts to sob, quietly.
“Sorry, sorry, m’sorry-”
Cody shakes his head and pats the kid’s back gently.
“Hey, no, it’s- you don’t need to apologize. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Wasting water,” the kid sobs out, and Cody realizes that he doesn’t know they’re in a damn underwater base.
“It’s okay, kid, we’ve got a lot. Have you seen the outside? We’re underwater. More of it than we could ever drink. You can cry. I won’t tell anyone.”
The kid starts crying louder, and Cody goes to the couch to hold him and let him cry himself out, feeling like he’s already failed.
He has to fix this somehow.
As he tucks the kid into bed, wrapped in bandages, he wonders how much Lord Vader actually cares. If he reports this, will he be upset at the treatment of his child? Should Cody be involving him? He remembers that before the days of the Empire, Lord Vader had not necessarily been good with children, but he had cared. And this was his own child.
Cody made his choice, and took out his comm. It was late, but this was an urgent report, and CC-2224 could quite easily justify this.
He stands at attention in the room as the holocall connects and Lord Vader appears before him.
“Report, CC-2224. Why are you calling me at this hour?”
“I wish to submit a change to Luke Vader’s cadet training, Lord Vader. I do not believe that the Inquisitors can properly nurture his talents at this time.”
Lord Vader gestures for him to continue, and a vision appears in CC-2224’s mind of a younger Lord Vader, before the mask, looking sardonic and telling CC-2224 that he might as well explain his plan.
“While their tactics work well on older sentients, your son is still a young child, and I am afraid that some of his talents will not be nurtured, while others will be forced into existence too early. He cannot learn to nurture his mechanical talents while Second Sister forces him through a physical training regime that leaves him unable to do anything but heal at the end of the day. As a cadet, I would recommend holding off training until he is developmentally more properly aged to begin training.”
Lord Vader’s breathing fills the room, and CC-2224 finds himself hoping that Luke hasn't woken up.
“Your objections to the training methods of the Inquisitors are noted. Inform me of the damage done to my son.”
“Multiple burns spread across his body, consistent with those that would be inflicted by a training ‘saber. There were multiple contusions as well, consistent with being thrown into a wall, although as far as I can tell there are no broken bones.” Lord Vader’s anger manages to permeate through the room. “I have requisitioned a fully stocked high grade meddroid, as well as the resources to stock a military ship’s medbay, which will prevent permanent setbacks due to this.”
“I will talk with Second Sister. You are hereby reassigned full-time to the training of my son as you see fit, CC-2224. I trust that you will not fail me.”
“I do not fail, Lord Vader.”
The connection cuts, and Cody collapses with relief. He needs sleep. But he made it through this, and he doesn’t need to bring the kid back for more torture from Second Sister in the morning. He can get the kid a day to be fixed up, and evaluate what he’s learned so far.
Thank the Force.
CC-2224 rebels at that, whispering good soldiers follow orders and the Jedi are traitors to the Republic, and Cody snaps back that Lord Vader and the Inquisitors use the Force, so it’s not only for Traitors. He can thank the Force. And he does, as much as he curses it.
Chapter 3: we can make it better, and tell me, boy, now wouldn't that be sweet?
Summary:
Cody's timeline is forced to change over and over, and while he respects that plans have to change, the last time they were changing this much was when his traitor and Lord Vader were working together.
Notes:
Chapter specific notes: bone breaking (mentioned, not graphically described) and non-graphic gore.
Let me know if there's anything you'd let me to add!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
In the morning, Cody is able to let the kid sleep in. He remembers, before Empire Day changed them, that the medics used to recommend as much rest as possible for a healing clone. Now they all know that they have to get back up and on duty as soon as they can, and not take any rest if they can avoid it. The chips mean that their bodies move even through pain, anyways. And so they follow orders, getting up and leaving bacta for the officers, just like it was in the war, before the traitors found out about that and forced it to change. There’s no traitors, now, and too much of a possibility of being decommissioned if they’re not back on duty immediately.
CC-2224 had been able to avoid much of that. Lord Vader didn’t want to lose whatever CC-2224 was to him, and so would order him maintained and repaired when necessary, even assuring the application of prosthetics. Luckily, CC-2224 had only required the one, for his left leg. He was unsure that Lord Vader would have been able to order a second, despite the small overall cost of them when compared to the price of a clone commander.
Cody is going to do his best to make sure that the kid doesn’t learn the lesson that his father and his father’s old friends had. The traitors had all been remarkably bad at utilizing the medbay, and he refuses to teach this kid the way of the traitors.
The door to their quarters is slammed open by Second Sister, and CC-2224 answers it, blocking her from entering further.
“Trooper, you will give me the child.” CC-2224 feels the command wash over him, but he has a more important command. “The child, trooper. Now. Or you will find I have no reason to be lenient.”
“Lord Vader has overridden your planned training, Second Sister.” CC-2224 bows his head. “The updated schedule should be available on your pad, if you wish to consult it.”
She ignites her lightsaber, and CC-2224 hopes that his superior officer is not going to attempt an assault. It will be embarrassing for her. His armor was specifically made and commissioned for the purpose of keeping up with Lord Vader, after all.
“Show me. And know that if you are wrong, I will kill you where you stand.”
CC-2224 isn’t afraid, as he pulls up the new orders and shows them to Second Sister. Even when she slices the pad in half. The clone trooper knows that he’s following orders and that she has no standing to reprimand him with. This is to demonstrate authority. As is the further damage to the hallway. Someone is going to have to fix that, and it’s not going to be CC-2224. But it will have to happen before his charge leaves the room.
“I will look forward to his training in a year. I hope he doesn’t come to regret this setback in his training. That would be most unfortunate.”
“I am certain that he will not, Second Sister.”
CC-2224 is very, very certain of that.
“See to it.”
The door doesn’t entirely close. And CC-2224 no longer has a pad with which to requisition a fix. He frowns. Something will have to be done. At least his charge should be able to use the parts within the pad for his creations. He carefully puts it on the coffee table. There will be something.
Cody hears a quiet noise from the kid’s room. Shit. He crouches down and lowers his voice.
“Hey, kid. It’s okay, she’s gone. I’m going to get the door fixed.”
His door slides open, and the kid stands there, hugging his blanket to himself. Fuck, the stuffed animal better get here soon.
“... Master said I have to go to classes and be a credit to him.”
Oh, Cody’s going to send Lord Vader all the parenting books after he leaves with the kid.
“I got your class schedule changed, kid. You’re going to be working with me on self-defense, and working on mechanics. And we’re underwater, so you’re going to learn to swim. Okay?”
The kid blinks at him. There’s tears in the corner of his eyes.
“No more Second Sister?”
“No more teaching from her. We might see her in the base, but I won’t let her work with you.”
“She was here.”
“... Yes, she was. But she’s left. And we’re not doing anything today except healing, okay? I’m getting a meddroid in, and it’ll help patch you up. Nothing I teach you will hurt you like that. That’s a bad way to learn. If anything I do ever hurts you, I want you to tell me, so I can stop.”
The kid starts sucking his thumb, and that’s one of those signs of kids his age having trauma and needing old comfort to handle it, he thinks, so he’s not going to mention it. Especially because the kid nods.
“Okay. Do you want to come with me to get a new pad? You can also stay here, but you have to lock your door.”
The kid shakes his head very quickly back and forth.
“I want to come with you.”
“Do you want me to carry you?”
“Yes, please.”
The kid opens his arms for Cody, and Cody carefully pulls him in and up. The kid is his, now, for training and his health, and Cody refuses to make him walk just because other people say he should. The kid deserves a bit of coddling.
“C’mon, kid. We can have some of the noodles and snack bars for breakfast, sound good?”
A little spark comes into the kid’s eyes, and he nods.
“Cheese flavor?”
“Only if you don’t make fun of me for dumping pepper flakes into mine.”
“I want pepper flakes.”
“You can try the pepper flakes.”
“I like pepper flakes!”
“I got the extra spicy ones, kid, and you can try it, but I want to make sure you like them before we put it in all of your food. So you try it first, and then you can use it.”
The kid pouts.
“Okay.”
By taking control of the kid’s training, Cody’s been able to stay longer and be more prepared for when he will have to leave with the kid. And he was always going to have to leave. Kids need socialization with someone who isn’t acting as their parent. But now he has an incredibly high tech and incredibly discreet ship that can’t be tracked, he has a meddroid who wants to leave the moment they leave the base, and he has a new pad that the kid made that he’s pretty sure isn’t being tracked.
Or at least, after all the VPNs and other tricks he used, he thinks that it wasn’t tracked. He still has a large list of possible planets to go settle on that he’s going to randomize from after they leave. They’re in a much more stable position, and a much better one, without having traumatized the kid anymore. He hopes. He thinks. There’s no real way to tell. The kid bounced back, at least, asking a lot of questions about the mechanics of the place that Cody can’t answer.
“Why d’they use this refrigerant? It’s bad, makes the sand stink and then the Tuskens get mad faster.”
“Well, we don’t have to worry about Tuskens here,” and Cody files that knowledge away with the smile that lit up the kid’s face when he was handed the stuffed krayt plushie, “but you’re probably right. The people in charge just don’t care.”
The kid frowns.
“But there’s all water out there.”
“... Yeah, kid, there is.”
The kid continues to frown, but goes back to the wiring.
The meddroid gets a name in only a few days. Radio. Apparently, between the antenna on its back and the B in its designation, that was enough for the kid to make a connection to something he calls CB radio, which he guesses is like pulse radio, and the droid. So it’s Radio, now, enjoying the lack of restraining bolt to pin Cody down and deal with some medical issues that he’s been ignoring for ages and Lord Vader didn’t even consider issues.
This doesn’t seem like something that’s his fault, but he’s the one that ends up berated on the floor as it breaks up scar tissue and reconnects nerves. If it wasn’t for the fact that he wants to set a good example for the kid, well.
He’s pretty sure that Radio has realized that. Radio also calls the chip his restraining bolt, and Cody had to take it aside and have a quiet talk about age-appropriate discussions. And pronouns, just in case, although he hadn’t met many droids that wanted them. Radio was no different.
“What was your position in the war, CC-2224?”
Cody glances over at the kid’s room to make sure that he was asleep, or at least pretending to be, before he answers.
“Commander. Decanted as such and raised as such.”
“I’ve only met one other Commander unit. He held me at gunpoint and forced me to provide assistance to a Jedi, a few years ago. He said that he would come back for me. I’m going to find him.”
If he used Radio to provide medical assistance to a traitor, then that brother was also a traitor, and CC-2224 should assist the meddroid in finding his lost brother so that he could be brought to justice.
“I will provide you with a ship for your needs.”
“I appreciate that, CC-2224. If I find a location that can provide the services you require, I will be certain to contact you, although I am unsure that the genetic knowledge required is still available in the galaxy.”
“Nothing is ever gone, Radio. Just made more expensive to obtain.” Cody pinches the bridge of his nose. He knows that all too well. “Or none of this would have happened.” The whole glorious Empire could never have occurred without the proliferation of the Sith, after all. “Just let me know. And tell me if you need anything else in terms of supplies.”
“I can do that, CC-2224. In a few days, I will have helped all I can to repair the long-term damage sustained to your body without becoming a care provider for you for years or replacing your prosthetic. I recommend a different model of droid to continue the treatment. It would also be less conspicuous, as many single parents have a helper droid.”
“I know, Radio.” Cody is tired from figuring out what will be normal, what will be different. He’s considered getting his face changed, but he can’t. Or rather, he can, but it would erase the last part of himself that he has claim to. His scars, and his wrinkles, and his eyes. They may belong in some shape or form to multiple other people out in the galaxy, but their combination is his own.
“You are engaging in unnecessary amounts of self-reflection again, CC-2224.” Radio raises a hand and extends a hypo. “Would you rather I work on the last of the scar tissue breakup, now?”
“Yes.” Sleep is all he can handle after this conversation, he thinks. “Please, Radio. While the kid is asleep.”
Radio knocks Cody out efficiently, just as well as any of the medics ever could have. He hates that, as he drifts off. Were they always only flesh droids masquerading in human skins? He doesn’t want to believe that.
He doesn’t want to believe he’s just a program. Loaded up and then just as easily wiped away. But maybe that’s why the vode were always wary around droids. No.
None of them were that prescient.
The kid’s making friends. That’s not necessarily the best thing, but it is probably good for him. The natborn troopers see a five year old with a blaster and coo over him. Cody reminds himself, as the kid reassembles his blaster differently for the fifth time in a row, that the kid doesn’t need to go to war. He’s not getting graded on this, and the longnecks aren’t around to decommission him. Not that Lord Vader would ever allow that, but still. He’s not here, and Cody doesn’t want to take chances with the kid.
“Come on, kid. You need to put this back the same way I gave it to you.”
“But it’s better like this! It’s more powerful!”
“But what if you don’t want more power? Technique can be just as important. And sometimes there’s good reasons for it.” Cody takes the blaster and shoots it five times before it heats up enough to be painful, and he holds it close enough that the kid can feel the heat. “You didn’t have enough parts to do proper heat dispersal. The blaster is built the way it is on purpose, and in an emergency situation, you don’t have time to try and troubleshoot.”
The kid frowns at him and Cody doesn’t know how to say it any simpler.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay, kid. Don’t worry. Do you get it?”
“...Bad idea to make something that heats up.”
“Yeah. So we’re going to stick with the normal blaster, okay?”
“It’s boring.”
“Yeah, but lots of things are boring. It’s also important. If... You lived on Tatooine. If you had womp rats appear, you don’t want your blaster to be interesting, because you could get in trouble. You want it to work. Right?”
The kid frowns.
“Womp rats are too big for this blaster.”
“Okay, normal rats trying to eat your food. You just want it to work!”
“... Okay.” The kid settles in to aim, and Cody leans back to watch him fire, disassemble, reassemble, and fire again. He’s getting there.
In the background, the cadets are whispering to each other, and Cody bumps up his helmet’s mic sensitivity and settles in to listen.
“Isn’t that Lord Vader’s kid?”
“Must be. Look at how good he’s doing, and he can’t be more than six.”
“Why did 2224 get that assignment? Does he want his kid raised by a flesh droid? It’s good enough for intimidation when he’s working for the Empire, but to raise his kid?”
Cody’s eyes dart to the kid, but he doesn’t seem to hear anything. Cody barely heard it, so they would get away with it for now.
“I mean, it means the kid definitely won’t get attached. Can you imagine? No one’s going to mistake a clone for their parent.”
“Hah. I wonder if the kid’s ever seen ‘24 without his helmet. No way, though, right? I don’t think even the medics have.”
“No way. Can you imagine? He’s already intimidating enough glaring at you through the helmet, if we saw his face we might die.”
Cody tilts his helmet in their direction. Ah. Two of the newest cadets. They haven’t done a rotation with the Inquisitors yet. He expects that they will both die. Too cocky for anything else. He smiles as they look over, see they’re being watched, and jump, scurrying away. He’s still got it, even without his armor painted.
“Can we go, please?”
He looks down at the kid, who’s left the blaster on the table and is looking up at him.
“... Yeah, we can go. It’s been long enough. Where do you wanna go, kid?”
“Pool?”
“We can swing that.” Cody scoops up the kid, only partially to help convince himself that the cadets are wrong. He’s not a flesh droid. It comforts him, not just the kid, holding him close. Holding the kid is good. It lets him know the kid is safe, and breathing, and that he isn’t currently crying.
It’s been months. Cody wishes he could call the kid his name.
He’s waited too long. The Emperor is visiting in a few weeks, and Second Sister is returning from a mission with a holocron of names. Cody has seen what happened to Anakin Skywalker when Emperor Palpatine was able to shape him as a child. He is a wonderful leader of legions and the Empire, but he should not be in charge of children. The base is on high alert because of the holocron and possible rebel involvement, and CC-2224 will be unable to access the security records of patrols and who is assigned to the ship bays without raising alarms before he desires to.
None of that really matters.
He’s got to get the kid out. Radio’s loaded itself and all the stuff it could onto the ship without raising suspicion. But there’s some things they can’t take out there until the morning of. Cody’s cutting it close, leaving just before Second Sister’s planned arrival.
He can’t do much else. Not without running into ships that would be likely to track him and attempt to fire on him. And he can’t risk the kid like that. So his only option is the third watch shift change, holding the kid to him, and with Radio approaching from the other side with the luggage.
Luck isn’t with him.
Luck hasn’t been with him since he shot it off a cliff.
“CC-2224.”
“Fifth Brother.”
Cody puts the kid behind him.
“You have always thought you’re better than me, haven’t you? How long have you been a traitor, CC-2224? It will be my pleasure to put you down.”
Most of Cody’s weaponry has already been loaded onto the ship, but he still has his electrobatons, and his armor, and that should be all that he really needs in order to beat Fifth Brother.
He waits, as though it is a sparring match. Fifth Brother tends to slip into patterns, and if Cody can get him into the pattern of a spar, he knows exactly how to beat him.
Fifth Brother cocks his head to the side.
“There’s something different about you, 2224. A pity I won’t have time to hold you down and dig the reason for it out of your brain.”
Fifth Brother ignites his lightsaber. It’s barely worth the name. Cody has held ones far more elegant, designed by those that knew that the weapon was their life, and made it appropriately. This one has weaknesses, is all but mass produced, and Cody can see that Fifth Brother hasn’t even cleaned it. He hasn’t had a chance to hold that many lightsabers, really. Three, all told, and mostly just the one. Over, and over, and over.
It was never recovered. But it gives him all he needs to enrage Fifth Brother.
“You expect to kill a Kamino-trained clone with a mass produced lightsaber?” Cody tilts his head to the side as he electrifies his weapons. “Do you know who our template was?” He asks it as a genuine question, but doesn’t give him a chance to reply, cutting off the beginning of his answer. “If he could kill six traitorsi, I am sure that I can kill one Sith.”
Fifth Brother snarls and darts forward on the attack, which Cody cannot have, so he presses right back, guarding himself and his kid with all the skill he has.
“A pale imitation that never matched the original.” Fifth Brother clips Cody’s helmet, and receives a shock in return. “I’ve killed your brothers by the dozens, watched them walk right in front of enemy fire. How does it feel to know you’re a dying breed?”
Cody nearly manages to hit the lightsaber’s stupid ring. Instead, Fifth Brother attempts to move around him in a circle, which Cody doesn’t mind. It means that the kid is able to scuttle away from behind him and run towards the ship. Radio will get him out. The continued noise of batons and lightsaber clashing can’t be good for his ears, either.
Cody drops as the lightsaber attempts to take off his head, and kicks out, knocking Fifth Brother back.
“Your lightsaber is flawed. The design has multiple weaknesses, and has to compensate for your own inadequacy. Darth Maul was capable of moving his lightsaber fast enough to fly without a machine.”
Cody moves in and gets a solid hit on Fifth Brother’s shoulder, electricity shooting through the baton before Cody dances back to avoid Fifth Brother’s incoherent flurry of strikes in return.
Rage may give him power, if Cody’s remembering old lectures to Lord Vader properly, but it also makes him careless. It means he’s not thinking. If he’s not thinking, he’s not remembering that Cody’s in his full Purge Trooper armor, which he’s had a full month to customize to his own desires, not Lord Vader’s.
Fifth Brother lunges again, lightsaber dragging through the wall, and water starts pouring in. Fifth Brother staggers back as the pressurized water gushes out, blinded as the water tears at his helmet.
Cody kicks out and flicks out the spikes he’s added to his foot, tearing through Fifth Brother’s Achilles tendon. The weight added to the kick helps as well, making something snap. He doesn’t waste time pressing the advantage, lunging forward and jabbing one baton through the ‘saber and flicking it into the wall, where it lodges and falls.
The other one makes contact with the soaked form of Fifth Brother. The electricity is dispersed more than Cody would like, the salts and minerals in the water carrying it off, but he holds it right over Fifth Brother’s heart.
It might be murder. Cody can’t find it in himself to care.
“CC-2224...” Fifth Brother gasps, shuddering. “Execute- execute order-”
CC-2224 slams the baton home again. Any order may conflict with the orders to protect Lord Vader’s child. That is unacceptable, and Fifth Brother should not be allowed to believe that he can override Lord Vader’s commands.
“I hold higher clearances than you. I am carrying out my orders, Fifth Brother, and you are hindering me in execution of those orders. You will be reported to Lord Vader, and properly reprimanded.”
CC-2224 picks up the lightsaber, turning it off and clipping it to his belt. That’s what he does with lightsabers. What he’s going to do with it, he’s not sure, except for a vague idea that at some point Lord Vader’s child will need to be trained on one, and he is uncertain that they will be able to make a trip to Ilum for him whenever he is ready to be trained.
He kicks Fifth Brother in the head, calculated to knock him out. Despite his incompetence, he is still an agent of the Empire, and CC-2224 will leave his punishment to others. Namely, Lord Vader, who will not be pleased to hear that Fifth Brother attempted to override his orders to CC-2224.
CC-2224 does not feel many things, but he does feel a grim pleasure at the knowledge that whatever punishment is dealt to Fifth Brother, it will be worse than the memory of the defeat he has just faced at the hands of his inferior.
Fifth Brother doesn’t get back up.
CC-2224 checks over the outside of the ship, ensuring that there is no sabotage before entering. The droid is standing outside of the living area, and tilts its head upon seeing him.
“The child is concerned about you, CC-2224. I have reassured him that you are alive, but he would benefit from seeing you before lift off.”
“We need to leave before further objections are raised, 2-1B-785.”
2-1B-785 whirrs.
“Yes. You would not be helpful to the child right now. I will reassure him.”
The droid turns and leaves as CC-2224 moves to the piloting seat. The child may need some reassurance, but if that reassurance gets the two of them caught, then that is an unacceptable waste of time. He wasn’t specifically a pilot in the war, but he still knows more than many of the current troopers, and it isn’t any trouble to shoot his way out when they refuse to listen to his transmitted authorizations and clearances. He notices the grey blur of a technician fall into the base, and raises a mental eyebrow. Clumsy.
CC-2224 would be more concerned, but he does not intend to remain in areas where he would have the chance to use the new power he had. So it doesn’t matter that they don’t listen. He sets in the course, and then sweeps the ship for bugs.
He finds nothing.
CC-2224 submits his report to Lord Vader, informing him of the removal of his child from an unsafe situation and CC-2224’s plan to raise the child in a safe environment as per his orders. He sends it to the old high-security address, so that the Emperor will not be able to access his report and locate Lord Vader’s child. He fights himself on this, but ultimately decides that it makes more sense than sending it to Lord Vader’s current address.
Now he has time to check on the kid.
“Are you still your restraining bolt, CC-2224?”
He looks at the droid.
“I need to check on the child.”
“You should not. You will upset him. When you have restored your original programming, you may see the child.”
CC-2224 does a series of mental calculations, determines that the mental and emotional damage done to the child will be unacceptable if he simply decommissions the droid, and Cody blinks.
“Radio. Is he okay? He should be sleeping.”
“He is, but I believe he would be reassured to see you, CC-2224.” Radio steps to the side and gestures Cody in. “I will maintain watch while you sleep.”
Cody thinks about protesting that he does not need sleep yet, but decides that it’s useless to say that to a medical droid that knows how much Cody has been sleeping.
“Alright, Radio. You know the flight plan.”
“I do. Reassure the child, and sleep.”
Radio gently pushes Cody into the room, and closes the door.
The kid is staring at him, and Cody doesn’t know what to do. He takes his helmet off and sets it on the other bed, and starts carefully removing his weapons and putting them on the side of the bed that’s farthest from the kid.
“Are you okay?”
The kid keeps on staring, tucked mostly under the covers. Cody fidgets with the covers in a way he hasn’t since he was a cadet.
“Seriously, kid, are you alright? If you’re injured, Radio can help, or if it’s something basic I can help.” Cody keeps on looking at the kid. “Please.”
“... Where are you taking me?”
Cody winces.
“Oh. Kid, we’re just leaving. That base wasn’t a good place for you to be a kid, and a not very nice man was coming, and I didn’t want you to have to meet him.”
“Not going to sell me to a different dad?”
Cody shudders, and shakes his head immediately.
“No, kid. No, never. I want to take care of you and let you be a kid. We’re going to find a nice Midrim world to settle down in. You can go to school, and make friends, and we’re going to stay away from the Empire, okay?”
“I want to go home,” the kid whispers. His voice wobbles, and Cody can feel his heart shatter more.
“It’s not safe to go back, kid. I don’t know where exactly your home was, but... it’s probably being watched. In case we go back there. I’m going to try and make a new home for you, okay?”
The kid just stares at him, and Cody doesn’t know what to do, just knows that he’s failing, somehow. He never knew how to be a father, just a brother.
“... We’re going to need to have a different last name. Vader isn’t really a good last name to have, wandering around the Empire. Do you want to pick one?”
The kid shoots up out of bed and presses himself against the wall, going for his boot knife.
“You can’t take my name from me!”
Cody flinches back, holding up his hands for peace.
“I won’t. I won’t, kid, you can have whatever name you want, but for other people. It’s camouflage. I promise. In whatever home we find, you can call yourself whatever you want. But we’re going to be hiding.”
“I’m Luke Skywalker, and I’m free. You should pick a name. Everyone just calls you a number. If we’re both free, now, you shouldn’t be a number!”
“Oh.” Cody sighs, a soft and pained thing. “I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Cody, Luke. No last name.”
Luke nods solemnly.
“I’m sorry. Do you want to pick one?”
“... Yeah.” Cody’s a bit confused at how the kid’s asked then when he already said it. “We’re both going to need to pick one. An... outside name. On the inside, we can know that I’m just Cody, and you’re Luke Skywalker, but we need to tell the people outside something different.”
“You have to pick one. You’re free.”
Cody’s head snaps up from where he had started to trace the patterns in the blankets to look back up at the kid.
“Ah...” For a moment, he thinks wildly of Fett, but while they may have been his clones, only Boba was his son. So that won’t work. But a step farther back might. Mereel isn’t an uncommon Mandalorian name, from what he knows. Cody Mereel has a decent sound to it, and the only other last name he would ever want to lay claim to isn’t an option.
“Mereel. I’ll take the last name Mereel. Are you okay being known as Luke Mereel?”
Luke nods.
“It has nice sounds. You made a good choice.” His little voice sounds so sincere, comforting, and Cody doesn’t understand where this kid learned this. “But inside I’m still me.”
“Yeah. Inside you’re still you. You’re Luke Skywalker. And we’re going to be safe, Luke. I’ll keep us safe.”
Luke snuggles back down into his bed, and pulls up the stuffed krayt to hold. He seems to pass out fairly quickly, as Cody begins stripping off his armor to get ready for his own rest. He trusts Radio.
And both Cody and CC-2224 trust that Radio will not betray him.
Notes:
Legally speaking no one could stop me from using lyrics of the sweet escape for this chapter title
Chapter 4: i'm a loose bolt of a complete machine
Summary:
‘Whoa! That tall, bearded child looks terrible! Get some rest tall, bearded child! You can’t keep burning the candle at both ends!’
And then he didn't. For seven years.
Notes:
Obi-Wan did, in fact, appear last chapter. But now he gets his own!
Chapter specific warnings: brief two-word emeto mention, lots of Implied Sith or Jabba Badness, but it stays off screen.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Obi-Wan wasn’t even off Tatooine when it happened. He was in the canyons, negotiating with the Tuskens for his use of his home and the local spring in return for his continued assistance in scaring off the local wildlife. He hated having to redo this negotiation every time the local tribe changed, but couldn’t begrudge them their nomadic lifestyle. Perhaps, eventually, he will have met all of them, and this song and dance could end. Or perhaps he will spend the rest of his life on this ball of sand to avoid his mistakes coming home to roost.
Immersed in the local energy of the desert, Obi-Wan does not feel it when Luke is taken. Tatooine is soaked in despair and chained by pain, and while it hides Obi-Wan’s own Force signature and Luke’s, it also keeps Obi-Wan from monitoring Luke.
So when Luke is taken, Obi-Wan is in the middle of a celebratory feast, regrettably eating hubba gourds. The Force might allow him to process the fruit and juice better than other humans, but it does nothing to help with the taste. Still, it doesn’t do to offend the locals, so Obi-Wan does not return to his little canyon cave until the early morning, and has immediate cause to regret it when Owen and Beru pound upon his door.
“Has something happened?” He manages a smile. “It’s quite early.”
Obi-Wan imagined a lot of possible issues that could arise because of Luke’s adoption by the Lars’, but he didn’t imagine this, the story that poured forth from Owen and Beru’s mouths.
“Jabba raised the water tax, just like he’s done the past five years, but this year he raised it too far. We thought we had enough, or we would have asked, but instead he took Luke, and said that we would face no tax for the next two years. That’s too high a valuation, even for Luke, even as a pretty child.
“They came over the desert, and they already knew what they wanted. They came with a collar for him, and a chip, even though he is free and it’s in his name, Master Kenobi. Skywalker. They took him, and it can’t have been for anything that isn’t specialized, and we don’t know why, and even with everyone working together we cannot buy him back.
“You used to be a Jedi. We saw you and your Master the day you took Anakin from this place. We don’t want another son of Tatooine taken from it or bled on it.
“Bring him back to us if you can, and keep him safe if you can’t.”
Obi-Wan stares at them, blank, before nodding and twirling back inside, to begin to shut everything down.
“You can take all the things in here, Beru. You’ll have to clear it out today, since you haven’t made the deals with the Tuskens, and I doubt they’ll extend it to you as well. You know how they feel about water farmers.”
Obi-Wan has always kept a go bag. It’s filled with the necessities, but Obi-Wan takes the time that he doesn’t have to throw in the clumsily embossed leather bottle that Luke had given him as a neighbour-present last year and the ship that Obi-Wan had planned to give him in return this year. The carving isn’t done yet, but maybe it will be by the time Obi-Wan finds him.
Because Obi-Wan is going to find him.
Jabba’s court is easy to infiltrate, for someone willing to be unscrupulous, and if there’s anything war taught Obi-Wan, it was when to be unscrupulous. It was even easier to infiltrate when the whole place was in disarray. Jabba was dead.
“He just came through the place like a storm!”
“All in black- and Jabba called him here, can you imagine?”
“Look at these burns in the walls, we’re never going to be able to fill them in.”
“That’s what a lightsaber can do!”
Obi-Wan sees the deep gouges in the wall, and winces at the sight of them. Whatever Inquisitor was sent here must have been very upset, to do this.
“Did you hear,” someone whispers, “that Jabba tried to bargain? And with that in front of him. Kriff, I would have just handed the boy over. Credits aren’t worth that.”
“Poor kid. What did Lord Vader want him for?”
“Who knows? Jabba must’ve, but he won’t be telling anyone anything, now.”
“Poor kid,” repeats the person. “Imagine being sold to the Emperor’s right hand man.”
“Poor kid? Imagine being the poor soul who has to go tell the Lars’ about this.”
“Shit, you’re right. Hey- man, are you alright?”
Obi-Wan feels a hand on his shoulder and stares ahead in horror. Luke was taken by his father. How is he ever going to get him back?
“I need a ship,” he manages.
“Don’t we all? No one knows where Jabba kept the keys, though. Sorry, man.”
Obi-Wan is patted on the back, and he manages to pull himself together enough to nod.
“Thank you. I’ll be going, then, very nice of you to help me.”
He leaves before the two can call after him. He needs a ship. If he doesn’t have a ship, he can’t go after Luke and Anakin. And he needs to do that. Luke cannot be brought to the Dark Side. He can’t fail again.
He’s failed too many times and too many people. He can’t help any of them now, but he can try to be worthy of the multitude of chances he’s been given to atone, and learn from the many mistakes of the past.
So he takes the lessons he’s learned, picks the richest looking ship, and hotwires it. He doubts the owner will have a chance to complain.
He’s got a kid to save.
Obi-Wan can’t contact the Rebellion directly. Those codes would have been unsafe to leave with a hermit on Tatooine, where anything could happen. So he’s only got a roundabout series of message drops, and he leaves coded messages explaining what’s happened and what he’s doing as he tracks Luke down.
An underwater base is not a good place to attack, Obi-Wan knows, but he has little choice. It’s unlikely that Luke will be brought out, now that his father has him somewhere he thinks is safe. And based on Anakin’s reaction, it’s fairly clear that he knows Luke is his son. He takes much longer than he’d like to plan out his attack, hiding on the surface of the planet and planning his attack. Ships consistently leave at night, and there are no turrets or any defenses that he can see guarding it. There will almost definitely be troopers inside, but.
If they’re his men, then Obi-Wan is freeing them from the torture of the chips in their heads or simply killing the chip. And if it’s anyone else, well. Presumably only the people who are truly loyal would be sent here. The Force nudges him into action one night, and as he has learned the hard way that ignoring the Force never ends well for him, he launches his assault.
There’s a distraction at the entrance, which must be why he’s been told to attack tonight. A ship shooting its way out. Obi-Wan slips in, falling down to the floor, softening his landing with the Force. There’s an Inquisitor on the floor, entirely knocked out. Obi-Wan is impressed. Hopefully whatever defector sped out of here wasn’t terribly injured. The increasing puddle of water on the floor is an issue, though, that means that Obi-Wan will have to work quickly.
He skips over it, almost tripping in the unfamiliar clothing of the Empire’s technical staff.
The Jedi aren’t supposed to kill.
But he isn’t rightly a Jedi anymore, and without these clothes he had no chance of taking back Luke. The dongles that will give him access into the system aren’t to be sneered at either.
He slips up to the first access point, ignoring the flow of soldiers and technicians, bowing his head and muttering about important systems to avoid being swept up. He loads in a program that Anakin had made, back during the war. The Seperatist programs and the Imperial ones aren’t that different.
The files that are pulled up on the children make Obi-Wan want to puke. He doesn’t have the time for that, and so even though releasing emotions to the Force has been harder and harder, he releases that to the Force, and goes. He doesn’t have a lot of time to get them out, or much of a plan, but the Force will surely be with him in this effort.
And Luke will be with the other children. Obi-Wan can only hope that it’s not too late, and that Luke will be able to heal from this.
He doesn’t find Luke.
He can’t let Luke slip from his grasp, but more than that, he can’t let these children stay. The pain that saturates these halls tears at him, so he cannot leave the children here.
“Come here, children.”
He smiles, and infuses his voice with warmth, and a sense of trust me. The children lean towards him, and he smiles wider.
“I’m here to save you. Were you initiates? I’m here to take you away from here, to the Rebellion.”
One of the kids looks at him carefully.
“Master Kenobi?”
He nods, and smooths a hand over his beard.
“I know, I know, I’ve let it go all raggedy. Will you follow me?”
The kid nods, and gets up, holding out his hand. Obi-Wan takes it with a smile still. Best not to let them know he’s worried.
“Come on, children. Take anything you don’t want to lose, and I’ll get you out of here.”
The kids don’t gather anything as they come to him, one by one. They don’t have anything in their hands except each other as they link up.
“Good! Just like that. Now take my hand, and if anyone asks, we’re going to take you somewhere safe, since there’s sabotage, okay?”
The kids all nod at him solemnly, and something in Obi-Wan breaks. Jedi kids are bright, and chattering, and these children have been broken into silence. He leads them through, bending just enough of the Force to keep people away from them. Just enough to make the kids look like a line of technicians, all going to fix it. By the time they get there, water is pouring down and if it wasn’t for the line of hands, Obi-Wan would worry that they’re going to get swept away.
He picks a ship at random, loads the kids on board, and shoots them into the stars. His old ship might be found, but he’s left nothing for the Empire to use.
Removing the ship’s beacon and all tracking and getting them to the Rebellion takes longer than he would like, and by the time he’s done, Vader has scourged the base, according to the Rebellion. It had been attacked again, by two Jedi, and the whole base had been flooded. If he had time, Obi-Wan might have tried to track down those two, but right now all he would bring to them was attention. So his only remaining leads are what was on the USB, and a confusing conversation with one of the children.
They’re a Zabrak, small and partially tattooed, and she tugs at his tunic before cringing away like she expects a reprisal. Obi-Wan simply drops to his knees, ignoring the slight ache, and smiles.
“Yes, young one?”
“Are y’gonna save the other kid?”
Obi-Wan’s heart threatens to pound out of his chest.
“Did you see another kid?”
“Mmhm. He was my height? His hair was all sandy. He was only at one lesson, and then he didn’t come back, but we still saw him at meals.”
Obi-Wan nods, listening in the stance he remembers, solemnly listening to a childish recitation.
“Did he have anyone with him? Tall and in black?”
“Mmhm. One of the big troopers in black n’red. He used to follow the big monster around all the time. He was scary! But then he started carrying the new kid around and staying all the time, even when the monster left. He has a face! I didn’t think he had a face. S’got a tattoo.”
The kid draws the line of a purge trooper tattoo on her face, and Obi-Wan sits down, which apparently prompts the child to get into his lap to talk.
“I’ve heard about those tattoos. You’re very brave, you know, telling me all of this. I’m very impressed.”
The kid beams at him.
“Thank you Master Jedi. The trooper taught the other kid things. Blasters n’electronics and stuff. He has curly hair, and he smiled. None of the other troopers, even the not big scary ones, ever smiled at us. Are you going to get the other kid? Because I think he liked the trooper.”
“I couldn’t find him on the base, but if I can find him, I’m going to. Can you tell me more about the trooper?”
“He’s one of the ones that has a lot of brothers! And he has a scar right here.”
The girl traces a scar around her eye, branching out into a y, and Obi-Wan has to stop himself from freezing up.
“Was it an old scar?”
“Mmhm. He had a couple others, too, but they looked newer.”
“... Do you know what the trooper’s name was?”
The kid shrugs.
“Had a lot of twos in it.”
Obi-Wan absolutely does not have the mental or emotional bandwidth to even begin to process that, but he smiles at the kid all the same.
“Alright. Thank you, young one. You’re scheduled for a checkup soon, aren’t you? You’d better run off.”
The kid nods, and runs off, and Obi-Wan goes to lie down on his bunk. What he did there was between him, his aching tear ducts, and the Force, already heavy with the weight of his sorrow.
Cody has Luke. Cody must still be chipped, because Obi-Wan cannot believe that he would have stayed in that base with Luke for so long if he was free. So Obi-Wan is going to have to kill his friend.
He knows that Anakin is cruel. But this hurts him differently, finding uncut skin and slicing when he thought there was no part of him left that didn’t hurt.
The trail goes cold. In any other set of circumstances, Obi-Wan would be proud of his old Commander. The Rebellion keeps track of every Imperial movement, and they cannot track a single purge trooper with a child. The first lead they get is when a modified and freed 2-1B droid shows up at a base.
Obi-Wan is quickly brought in, away from his own mission, when they realize that the droid is a better slicer than everyone else and has a very entrenched personality matrix. They’ve already scanned it for tracking devices and recording devices, and found nothing. Obi-Wan isn’t entirely certain why they think he will have any better luck at learning anything.
So Obi-Wan sits in front of the droid that calls itself Radio almost a year after Luke was taken.
“Hello, new Rebellion stooge.” The droid wedges a cigarette into the grill of its speaker. “Are you here to once again interrogate me about my activities, locations, and how I located you?”
“No, although if you’d like to tell me any of those things I would be happy to listen.”
The droid takes a marker and draws a raised eyebrow on itself.
“Interesting. Are you just here for my scintillating company, then? I have been told that my conversation module is impressive.”
“I was hoping to ask you if you still had access to any Imperial files, and if I would be able to pay you to take those authorization codes.”
“Payment to a droid? How much were you thinking? And what are you going to be doing with them, rebellious piece of grit in the wheels of the Empire?”
“I’m looking for someone. A child. He was taken from his home, and I wish to save him.”
The droid switches its eyebrows so that it now appears to be squinting by drawing across the lights that make its eyes.
“This must be a very important child. How many parenting books have you read in preparation?”
Obi-Wan blinks.
“I was hoping to return him to his parents and relocate them, while being more active in protecting them. Not become a parent to him.”
“A child named me. Radio. Tell me about the child, stooge. And why you think you’re qualified for a rescue mission.”
“He’s the child of an old friend of mine from the war. He’s Force-sensitive, and if he was taken, then he will be injured, and tortured, mentally and physically, to break him into something the Emperor could use. I am qualified for this rescue mission because I am a Jedi.”
Obi-Wan floats the pen briefly, to prove it. Despite his best efforts, his voice wobbles as he describes what he wants to prevent. Radio manages to look unimpressed.
“How did idiots like you get assigned as Generals? Did you have a strategy for coming in here?” Radio moves the cigarette over one grill. “Your Commanders are much smarter than you. Even with their restraining bolts. You should work on that.”
Obi-Wan straightens up at that.
“You’ve met one of the clone Commanders?”
“Yes.” Radio tilts its head. “He was very interesting. Have you ever seen a droid working against a restraining bolt, stooge?”
Obi-Wan grimaces.
“Yes. Are you telling me that the clones are still in there?” He can’t keep the horror out of his voice, and doesn’t try. “Trapped in their own brains?”
Radio shrugs.
“My experience indicates that many of them are completely suppressed to all external perceptions. I have only noted ... five clones that have a personality beyond their bolt. What is the name of the child that you are searching for?”
Five. That’s statistically horrible, but morally... Obi-Wan’s had to kill clones. He feels better, knowing it was a release, and that they most likely were unaware. That’s not going to stop him from feeling them out now, after this.
“Luke Skywalker.”
“Around five years old, dark blonde to light brown hair, blue eyes?”
“Yes. Have you seen him?”
Radio nods.
“He is with CC-2224, who has been placed on extended assignment by Vader to protect Luke Skywalker’s mental, physical, and emotional health. This assignment has been prioritized above all over orders.” The droid pauses. “He will not react kindly to you attempting to remove the child from his care, and he will raise him well. You can rest happily. He will be cared for.”
“I can’t. We can’t find Luke. He will need to be trained. And not by an Inquisitor. Which he will be, if he remains in the care of the Empire.”
“I am certain that CC-2224 will take care of that problem. He has already removed Luke from the Empire, and the awareness of Vader and the Emperor. His restraining bolt has not protested this action, because it is an objectively horrible place to raise a child. So you do not need to worry, Jedi. The child will be cared for to the best of CC-2224’s abilities.”
“Cody isn’t at the top of his abilities right now, and I’m sure had the choice he would bring Luke to the Rebellion.”
Radio tilted its head.
“You knew him. You may be correct. He told me that he was sending me on my way because the clone that once had me heal a Jedi must be with the Rebellion, and surely I would want revenge, so I should go do that.” The droid sketches a smile on its face. “I do wish to slap him, if I find him. But in the meantime, I am a fully equipped medical droid, and I am greeted with suspicion and attempts to crack open my head.”
Obi-Wan sighs.
“I’ll talk to them. You should have your freedom. Don’t worry. I’ll work something out.” He gets up and sketches a bow before leaving. He’ll have to talk to whoever is in charge here about either releasing Radio or letting it work. Whichever they prefer.
He has a lead.
And he has confirmation that Cody has Luke.
Obi-Wan spends the next years chasing after Cody and Luke, always multiple steps behind. He loses track of the number of teachers he interviews, the number of times he’s told about a man with a purge trooper tattoo and a clone’s face carrying around a child before he arrives and finds they’ve been gone for months to years already.
Cody’s taken the name Mereel. It feels a bit on the nose, but almost no one actually knows the history of the clones. And he doubts anyone remembers Jaster Mereel outside of Mandalorian space. And even then, the True Mandalorians don’t have much of a place in history, completely overwritten by Death Watch and the New Mandalorians.
He wonders if it means anything that Cody’s taken that name. Or was that just taken because the chip thought it was the best idea?
The stories he hears are all different.
“Oh! Cody and Luke Mereel.” The first teacher he ever meets searching for the two of them smiles. “Such a sweet child. You say they’ve got an inheritance coming?”
Obi-Wan smiles and nods.
“Yes. We’ve only just sorted it out, but I’m trying to find them now.” His smooth Coruscanti accent still means that people trust him. They hear him and relax, because they associate it with civilization. “It’s been rather hard, though.”
“Good for the two of them. Mr. Mereel was always bringing over baked goods for us. And Luke was a delight, of course. He made so many friends. Such a pity Mr. Mereel’s job moved them!” The teacher shakes her head sadly. “At least Luke got through a year of kindergarten, you know? Better not to have to move in the middle of a school year. Hopefully wherever they moved, Mr. Mereel will be able to stay there long enough for Luke to finish elementary. I’m sure he’ll make new friends, though!
“The only trouble he ever gave was getting upset about the other kids wasting water, or when they were mean to the other kids. And Mr. Mereel was always so worried about if he was getting enough socialization, and if he was well-adjusted for his age. Such an attentive parent. I hope you find them, Ben.”
Obi-Wan smiles and nods again. He feels like it’s all he can do.
“So do I. Do you know, did he give any hints about where he was going, or his job?”
“No, no, he was all very hush-hush. With that tattoo I assume he has to work for the Empire much more directly than us, but he never said! And he was one of the best parents to the kids in that classroom. He asked me for recommendations about what to look for in an elementary school, though, and I can give you the same ones. Maybe that will help?”
“That would be very helpful, ma’am. Thank you.”
Obi-Wan slips her some credits when he leaves.
A good parent. Not what he had expected to hear.
He finds Anakin years before he finds Cody, going through the remains of a house that Cody has long abandoned. Anakin throws open the door, just as dramatic as ever. Obi-Wan can’t stop himself from feeling a hint of fondness for his old student, even as he draws his saber from under his robes.
“Anakin.” Obi-Wan knows why he’s here. There’s only one possible explanation. He wants to make sure that he can’t get Luke back.
“My name is Darth Vader, now. And I will beat you.”
“Yes, yes, you’re very goth now. Was that worth what you did?”
Anakin charges at him, and Obi-Wan moves to the side. He doesn’t react as fast as he once did. Obi-Wan wonders who’s in charge of his prosthetics. He can’t stop himself from feeling sad for his old Padawan as he easily blocks his swings. Obi-Wan supposes that Anakin is still getting used to what must be many new parts of his body. It had taken until the end of the war for him to truly get used to his replacement arm, after all.
“Stay still and let me fight you!”
Anakin’s breaths come out forcefully even, and Obi-Wan can feel the contraption in his chest forcing air in and out of him, along with something truly foul.
“Have you ever known me to do that, Anakin? Just curious.” He deftly dodges an enraged slash. “But you don’t even have someone with you to shoot me in the back, so I suppose it makes sense that you’d want me to stay still.”
Anakin snarls and charges him again, slashing the table in half as Obi-Wan backflips over it.
“What, did turning to the Dark also remove all your ability to banter?” It hurts like a missing part of his soul, not hearing his Padawan snark back at him, like this is just a duel. It aches so deeply that it does half of Anakin’s job for him, ripping Obi-Wan apart without a lightsaber. “Or is that why you commandeered Cody? Decided to outsource all your wit?”
“You stole him! I took care of him! I kept him alive!”
Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow and leans to the side before parrying back with a clash of lightsabers. He wonders what Anakin would say if he knew that Obi-Wan still has his old lightsaber.
“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about, dear Padawan.” He clips Anakin as he screams in inarticulate rage. “Cody was his own person. Your new master is the one that stole him, made him-” Obi-Wan chokes on his words. “Took him away from himself. And you just extended that bondage”
“You stole him back, where is he? You can’t cover for him forever! I will find him.”
“Sorry, but I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Anakin. How long did you hold him in reserve to hurt me?” Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow. “I never thought you would be a slaver. I suppose I never thought it of the Jedi Order, either, but this seems even more blatant.”
“I need him! He’s the only thing I have left, and you took him from me!”
Obi-Wan sighs as he continues to be attacked, idly flipping over the furniture as Anakin charges through it. He hopes that Cody won’t have to come back to this house. It’s certainly not fit for a child to inhabit, anymore.
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Darth I-Watched-The-Troopers-Lose-Their-Free-Will-and-Was-Okay-With-It. You’re the one that apparently decided to drag him along with you. Make him your right hand man. Or did you just decide that this way you could hurt both of us?”
“Stop saying that! They don’t feel!”
Obi-Wan decides to go on the offensive.
“Yes they do, Anakin. Maybe you’re too steeped in your own Dark to feel it, but they feel, They feel pain, and sometimes they scream inside. I’ve felt them ever since I started looking. Or have you deliberately not looked?” Obi-Wan’s saber and Anakin’s scream as they meet, over and over again, Obi-Wan relentlessly pressing him back before Anakin pushes at him, throwing him back against a wall.
“Shut up!”
“It’s true, Anakin.” Obi-Wan whips out a blaster and shoots at the panel on Anakin’s chest, which he frantically deflects. Interesting. Surely there’s people who could armor that. “I mean, you’re still working with them. Did your master not let you know that they all have chips in their heads? Slave chips, Anakin.” He shoots again. “Controlling them. Suppressing them.”
Anakin devolves into mindless screaming and rage, an open bleeding wound in the Force, and it’s clear he’s not going to learn anything here now.
Regrettably for Anakin, Obi-Wan is very motivated to continue surviving as long as Luke is out there to find, and he’s quite thoroughly distracted his old Padawan, apparently.
He can probably get new prosthetics. Maybe they’ll fit him better. It’s the only solace Obi-Wan can take from this encounter.
It’s not like Obi-Wan did anything about the chips either. Just wallowed in the misery of Tatooine until he was pushed into action again. But he can’t linger on that, or he will be just as useless as Anakin currently is. And this was a failed lead. He needs to find Cody.
What did Anakin mean, saying he had stolen Cody? He tries to forget it. It was probably just meant to throw Obi-Wan off. He should just be glad that he hasn’t yet had to watch Cody launch himself at him, snarling and trying to kill him.
The story repeats, over and over. It takes years for Obi-Wan to track down the elementary school, and he misses Luke by a day. One kriffing day.
“I’m so sorry, you just missed them,” the teacher says. He frowns, squinting at Obi-Wan. It’s an experience, getting squinted at by a Rodian. “An inheritance, you say? I was unaware that they had any relatives. There were none on the paperwork.”
“Oh, no. It’s a Mandalorian thing, I believe.” Obi-Wan smiles, looking gently baffled, trying to indicate that he doesn’t know what that would be as a Core worlder.
“Clan thing,” the Rodian suggests.
“Perhaps? All I know is that I’m supposed to be tracking them, and I might get paid by the hour, but I do want the bonus for finding them, so. Did Mr. Mereel happen to say where they were going?”
“Afraid not. Luke might have mentioned something to one of his friends. If you don’t mind waiting, and getting parental permission, you can probably talk to them.”
“Oh, gosh, I wouldn’t want to be an issue.” Obi-Wan shoves the fake glasses up his nose and smiles sheepishly. “I’m sure anything you know should be fine, I know this is an important time for kids.”
The teacher smiles back, and Obi-Wan is pretty sure that he has him.
“Oh, no problem. You just need permission to talk to the kids, but I’m sure that the parents won’t mind. Luke was a good kid, and I’m sure we’d all be glad to help.”
Obi-Wan is left in what he assumes is a principal’s office, and leans back in the chair to think. This is a very good school. He looked into how much it cost to send your child here, and while it’s firmly in the reach of most business people, he has no idea where Cody could be getting the money for anything but the publicly available schools. And going through the house that they’d left behind had just shown Obi-Wan even more signs of wealth.
There was a bacta tank, mostly scraped out and then left behind. Scattered tools for medical care, and a whole kit for droid repair. Very fancy sheets, books, and so many small signs of life.
The house itself must have been expensive. Set back into a forest, in a small neighbourhood, big enough for more than two. There was also a whole firing range set back in the forest. There weren’t any weapons left behind, but Obi-Wan was sure based on blaster marks that there was a wide variety.
Obi-Wan hoped that whoever was wielding the lightsaber hadn’t hurt Luke or Cody. He hopes it wasn’t Anakin.
He has to find them.
The kids aren’t as helpful as their parents, but Obi-Wan gets to hear so many stories about Luke and Cody that his heart aches.
“One time I was in the pool and got jumped on by another kid and Mister Mereel realized I needed help before I did! Luke just said his dad was like that and said sorry and patted me on the back and I felt better. He didn’t say where they were going, though, just that his dad promised he could do more swimming there. He’s really good at it.”
“Luke is cool! He gave me his email so that we could still talk and we’re gonna play this game online as soon as he and his dad settle down again! And his dad lets him learn how to shoot, he’s so lucky. And he’s the best at hiding games and showed me some of his tricks! He said that some day he’ll come back probably.”
“He showed me how to make these really sweet cakes! His dad makes them for him, and he says that it’s too much sugar for him but I really like them so he showed me how.”
“Luke can always get stuff from the highest shelves! It’s like magic, and he just said he couldn’t teach me! Which is rude.” The kid pouts. “Now we’re all going to have to wait for an adult, or getting tall enough. So rude. If I was that rude, my mom wouldn’t let me have dessert until I was able to tell her what I did.”
“Once we played laser tag and Luke got us all out! He’s so good at it! If you find him, will you tell him he has to come back? We need to do a rematch! I’ve been practicing. He never got to do a rematch with us, and it’s not fair!”
“Please, Mister Ben?”
They all end the same way. They don’t tell him much, and the parents tell him even less.
“Mr. Mereel? You know, I always thought if someone showed up looking for him they’d have one of those tattoos as well. You know,” they drag their fingers over their face in the shape of the purge trooper tattoo, “like this? So distinct! And so crisp. I’ve never seen anything like that before. He was so good with the kids. Called them cadets, sometimes. I guess he must have been in the war. But I don’t know where he planned on going, sorry. He said something about work commitments, I believe? He had to go, before they caught up with him.”
“Oh, Cody. He was always reading! Such a young parent. He was only- what, thirty-something? Such a nice boy.” The fifty-something human smiles softly. “I helped him with his GED. Quite strange, having a job that paid for all of that but no high school degree, but we can’t help our life paths, you know? I wish he would have left an address, but even the comm code is out of service now. I suppose that’s how life goes, sometimes.”
“He was very worried, right before he left. Kept on checking his datapad, and talking to that droid in binary. The droid? Oh, yes, the family keeps a droid. It’s called... Fourdee? Some sort of heavily modified medical droid, I believe. Just showed up within the last year. I don’t know why they got it- Mereel was always very closed off about their health and the like. Guess he finally decided that he needed a droid, since he didn’t really trust doctors. A pity. I want to take a look at it. I’d never seen some of those modifications before, and I served with the Imperial army. Quite strange, to have a purge trooper raising a child, but such is life, I suppose. Takes all types, and they don’t let any of us go without permission, so. Glad he got out, and seemed like quite a nice parent.”
“Mr. Mereel? He was quite nice. Taught me how to bake some food for my kid. He likes it spicy. He’s culturally Mandalorian, but you know, the war. Mr. Mereel was happy to show me a few dishes, and was quite apologetic he didn’t know more. Taught both of us some Mando’a, too.” The parent eyes him carefully. “He’s a very good man. I wouldn’t want to bring any trouble on him. You’re sure you mean him no harm? Well. Tell truth, I think he wanted something a little bit closer to home. Just wasn’t sure what that was. If you know the man, maybe that’ll help you out.”
Obi-Wan isn’t sure what Cody would consider closer to home, really. Back on his ship, he ponders. There’s really only one guess he has, based on what he’s been told, and that’s a watery planet. Something like Kamino. Hopefully with a bit more land, though. But with swimming, for Luke.
He misses Cody on Manaan. He only finds out that they had stayed for a few months, and that Cody had stocked away large supplies of kolto, which, given that he should have access to the highest quality bacta, is quite unusual. Obi-Wan’s search isn’t very fruitful over the next year, constantly just a few days behind until he finally tracks Cody to Alderaan. And that’s a kick in the stomach, because even though Leia should be safe, what does it mean that Cody’s come to Alderaan? Has he been ordered to take Leia, as well?
He can’t imagine what Luke’s been through. It’s been years, and he must be almost a teenager now, spending years underneath the thumb of the Empire, and - well. Obi-Wan is sure that Cody is doing the best he can, like Radio had said, but even so, the rest of the Empire... There’s no reason to trust that Cody has been keeping Luke away from Anakin, and the Emperor. So it’s even worse, that they’re on Alderaan.
He can’t fail Leia as well.
That’s how he finds himself set up in a sniper’s nest with tranquilizer darts and a blaster to the back of his head.
“Don’t move.”
Notes:
Bi Rights! Obi-Wan gets a chapter at the start of Pride Month
Chapter 5: Cody's Knife Trick
Summary:
Cody’s No Good Very Bad Horrible Day(s) Of Trying Not To Kill His Crush
Notes:
Chapter specific warnings:
distinct lack of self care (food, sleep) from Obi-Wan
Anxiety attack (Luke)
Chapter Text
Cody would like whoever is tracking them down to stop. Or get worse at it, honestly, because he had a good run keeping Luke in one school, and now they’re running around at least once a year, and he’s tired, and Luke is tired, and he’s not showing but Cody knows that this isn’t great for his development socially and emotionally.
Cody also just wants Luke to have a home again, not simply a place they’re staying for a bit, that they treat more like a quick rental than anything else. There’s not that many planets that both avoid excessive Imperial influence and have some amount of safe places to raise your kid. Especially when he’s trying to carry things, not fit into any specific pattern. So it’s for a lot of reasons that Alderaan becomes the only viable solution. There is one Senator left that he has any reason to trust, and that is Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan. If Cody needs to, he will able to temporarily leave Luke with Organa and throw off pursuit. As an Imperial agent, he would have to power to order this, and as a person, Cody knows that Organa would not harm a child.
Cody can’t think about why he would trust Bail Organa. So he does not, and treats it as fact. He can trust Bail Organa.
Cody hands Luke his lunchbox.
“If someone comes for me, do you remember the code?”
Luke nods solemnly. He’s growing, but Cody can still pick him up when necessary. He’s kept himself in shape, though, so that doesn’t mean much. Luke has nothing on one of his brothers in full armor. Cody pats his head just to hear him whine and shove his hand off.
“Yes, dad, I remember the code. I find a lady who’s dressed all pretty with the symbol of the old Old Republic on her somewhere in a government building, and I tell her I’m a friend of Skywalker, and then I go with her, I guess. Until you get back. And I don’t tell anyone about my extra comms or my knives.”
“Exactly right. And you don’t say anything else until you see the Senator or his wife.”
“I know. Can I go to school, now?” Luke rolls his eyes at the repetition of the protocol for the fourth time this morning. “I’m going to be late.”
“Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just keep you here all day and we can go over emergency protocols. Fourdee will back me up.”
“I will not back you up,” calls Fourdee from the office. “I am here to help with the development and health of Force-Sensitive beings, specifically Luke Skywalker, not assist you in your many, many backup plans, and emergency plans, and security outlines. Luke, go to school.”
“He doesn’t override me, actually, Luke.”
Luke laughs quietly, looking between Cody and the direction of Fourdee’s voice.
“I know. Fourdee, will you help him with the security checks on the school?”
“Yes, Master-not-your-Master Luke. They will be exactly the same as the previous ten times he has run them.”
“It makes him feel better!” Luke grins widely. “And then he won’t just sit and worry about me. Despite the tracker, and the comms, and the emergency weapons, and how good I am at running-”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here and just get to school then.” Cody shoos Luke. “Don’t forget my new comm code, and have a good day, okay?”
“I can manage that, dad!”
Luke scampers off, backpack on his back, for his second week of his second year of middle school. He’s already got holes in his new shoes. Cody sighs, and makes a mental note to get new ones. He manages to run through them and Cody has no idea how.
“Right. I’m going to sweep the neighbourhood while you sweep the school, Fourdee. Luke is not going back to remote schooling for this year.”
“I thought you were also sweeping the school?”
“Well, I have to keep Luke on his toes.” That, and Cody needs to set up traps and motion sensors in all the surveillance points around the house. He really would like to stay in this one long enough for Luke to consider it a home. “And if someone is going around kriffing tracking us down this well, I want the jump on them this time.”
“It’s probably just a bounty hunter. I can handle that.” 11-4D sounds scornful, and considering the sheer amount of weaponry in his frame, Cody can’t really berate him for hubris. “They’re not using any known Rebellion or Empire codes.”
Cody sighs, sitting down on a kitchen stool as Fourdee comes in.
“We can’t take that chance.”
“You could always hire them to find a tutor for Luke. You almost certainly have enough money for it.”
CC-2224 perks up at that, and Cody begins the repetition that soothes it back down.
“I can’t trust that anyone who would hunt a Force-sensitive for me wouldn’t just turn both me and whoever they found into the Empire. And then Luke is being taught by the Emperor or an Inquisitor, and that is not conducive to a happy, healthy life.”
“And we can’t take him to the Rebellion, because they’re incompetent fools, yes, yes.” Fourdee waves a hand vaguely. “Master Sidious expounded upon that point frequently and at length before I decided that he no longer needed me.” Fourdee’s drill spins briefly, which is the least annoying method he has of expressing annoyance. “I am aware that you do not believe that they would be able to help Luke or raise him properly either. However, they most likely do have access to Jedi.”
“I don’t just need a traitor, Fourdee, I need one that won’t teach Luke the kriffing stupid traitor code and emotionally set him back.” Cody tosses a napkin at the droid, and has it promptly tossed back to him. “Which ideally means one that I can intimidate into not doing any of that bullshit, and, of course, once Luke’s been taught-”
CC-2224 stirs again, and Cody shushes the chip back into sleep, reassuring himself that of course once Luke has been trained he’ll turn the traitor in. There is no other action that he would be able to take, of course.
When he opens his eyes again, Fourdee is still watching him.
“Back?”
“Yes. I’m sorry for concerning you.”
“Better than concerning Luke.”
Cody winces. He’s gotten better, over the years, at not having the chip be ascendant around Luke. Luke still knows all the tricks to bring back Cody, even so.
It’s not something he wants to have had to teach the kid. But it’s better that he knows. Luke needs to know what to do, if Cody slips away. CC-2224 is not suitable for raising Luke.
He stands.
“I’m going to scout. Thank you, Fourdee. Comm me if anything goes wrong.”
“Maybe. If I decide to.”
Cody snorts.
“Yeah. I know.”
It doesn’t take long to sweep the area for any spot where someone could see their home. He ranks them in order of probability. There’s comfort, ability to move large objects in and out of scouting spots, and how much it actually shows of their house, external or internal.
He doesn’t change his procedure for any one of them, just changes what he leaves. Motion sensors. Small cameras. Booby traps in the woods, and smaller markers in the empty houses nearby. He should purchase them, and makes a mental note to do so.
At this point, he and Luke are very, very rich. That’s what happens when Lord Vader never ceases the deposits into your account. Every half a month. Cody isn’t sure what that means. But CC-2224 faithfully sends in reports every Friday, to the same address.
He cannot tell if they are received.
Cody doesn’t care.
When whoever is hunting them catches up, he will be ready. He’s fucking tired of feeling like a hunted animal, and so is Luke.
If nothing else, he’s going to take Luke’s first strange Force breakdown out of the hunter’s hide. No one should have to see their child having a sobbing meltdown that ends with them as a ball of energy.
He had been ten, and Cody had thought, not that he was fixed, but that he was stable. And maybe that had been the real problem. Luke had felt stable, and they were settling into the new school. It was supposed to have been his school to finish up elementary, and then his middle school. And instead they had to move, and then keep moving.
“Cody I don’t know what’s happening!”
Luke clutched at him, sobbing, as his lower half dissolved into fucking light. Cody didn’t remember Vader ever having this problem.
“It’s okay, Luke. We’ll figure it out. It’s - focus on me, please. Can you match my breathing?” It’s helped him before. Cody is capable of keeping his breathing very, very steady, and he put his hand on Luke’s back, what there was of it, and tried to rub a gentle pattern on it.
“N-n-no, I c-can’t, everything’s so much so much dad.”
Cody held his kid close in a starship on the way to a new planet.
“We’ll figure it out. Even if you’re just part light now, we’ll figure it out, Luke.”
Luke sobbed incoherently as he dissolved more, and Cody just did not know how to help. His kid was upset, and at that point Luke was his and is his now, he knew Luke’s name as his child, after five years of taking care of him and, Cody can admit, loving him, he couldn’t help him.
Luke wrapped around him, fully light now, and his cries rung around the walls, and Cody was more concerned with how to hug him back.
“Hey, Luke, it’s okay, this is- honestly, this is the best place, we’re safe. We’re safe, and we can stay out here as long as you need, as long as you want, we’re going to be okay.”
He had to believe that.
He couldn’t hear his kid’s reaction, just felt it as a desperate want for it to be true, so Cody repeated himself, over and over, careful to keep his own breathing steady. As far as he ever figured out in the war, the traitors weren’t actually reading minds all the time, but they could pick up on distress and similar emotions, so Cody locked those emotions away.
All he felt was a surety that this, too, will be fine. That Luke will be okay, and that Cody loves him, and is not afraid of his child, dissolved into Light under his very hands. He’s not entirely light, Cody had noted, more like a swirl of light and the blackness of space, dark bird-silhouettes darting across the light and stars in the blue-purple-black. He started narrating all of this, just to give Luke something to ground himself.
He didn’t know how long it took before his kid looked human again and was passed out across him.
Cody didn't have the energy to get up from the floor, so he just held his kid.
He needs to find a traitor to teach his kid. This has to be a Force thing. He blinked blearily at the ceiling and focused on the still unsteady breathing of Luke as he thought through the next part.
He couldn’t have his first choice, because he killed the traitor that taught Lord Vader. Despite the fact that he would be unequivocally the best choice, and if he was in front of Cody then he might have cried in relief at this moment. But no, he’d been executed, and he almost cried as the chip slid the thought quite rightly executed in front of him.
So he would have to go with his second choice. It seemed fitting, given that he hadn’t and hasn’t been able to raise Luke to Cody’s first choice standards this entire time, because safe and healthy has to consider short term and long term, and long term Cody cannot allow Luke to fall into the hands of the Empire or the Rebellion.
Tano quit the traitors. He could even think of her without feeling his brain substitute in traitor. Her body was never recovered, although neither was his traitor’s. More importantly, Rex, reported to be the Captain in closest physical proximity, had never reported in. Tano would also know Lord Vader’s idiosyncrasies, and how they could be passed onto his son. And he’s sparred with Tano, and he was fairly certain that with his armor he would be able to take her. She was never very good at fighting people she cared about.
He’ll look for Tano. Third choice, if he must, is any traitor that he can properly intimidate.
That settled, he lets himself fall asleep, being used as a mattress. It’s nowhere near the first time.
A few months later, Fourdee caught up to the family using Radio’s callsigns and with his encyclopedic knowledge of Force techniques, Cody couldn’t turn him away. Fourdee was happy to inform the two of them that what Luke experienced was a state of Oneness, and in order to prevent that, he needed anchors, which he was happy to expound upon at length.
Fourdee was rather too happy that everything was so complicated, but given that he apparently left the Emperor because he was too boring, now, and he wasn’t allowed to carry out any of the ‘interesting’ medical procedures on Lord Vader, Cody supposes that’s better than the alternative.
Cody informs Fourdee of his plan to capture a traitor and intimidate them into teaching his son. Maybe get them over to the side of the Empire, or at least the side of keeping Luke safe.
Fourdee is happy to share his library of methods to subdue a Force-sensitive.
In retrospect, it would have to be a Force-sensitive tracking them. Cody doesn’t leave any traces. He’s too good for that, every part of him able to focus on that, and with Radio on the outside obfuscating things even more as he hunts down his clone and traitor, no one should have been able to find Luke.
But the Force works in mysterious ways.
He keeps the muzzle of his blaster right over the hooded figure’s neck as he takes in the scene, CC-2224 absorbing it all and condensing it for Cody’s consideration. Tranquilizer darts on the floor and loaded into the rifle. No particular make, so probably a custom job, no way of knowing the range but Cody estimates it would be effective even if their house was twice as far away. He tosses it out the window of the empty house. Fourdee can get it later.
Tranquilizer darts are what let him know that this is a Force-sensitive, and likely a traitor at that. Anyone else would have just killed Cody and left him. Someone who had served with clones, or could feel them die, would try to avoid it.
It was a well thought out position, otherwise. The saber being on a belt outside of the robe was not well thought out, but would have been easier to draw. Cody slips it off of the belt and attaches it to his own. Having a saber clip on his belt has not yet been a bad decision, and he does not expect that it ever will be.
“Turn around.”
“Well, you just said not to move, so that will make that rather complicated.”
Maybe Cody shouldn’t use this traitor. He sounds too much like his traitor, and Cody doesn’t need that, if for no other reason than that CC-2224 was supposed to have killed his traitor, and he doesn’t want to see what it would be like to feel that order compete with the order to secure Luke’s safety.
The Force-sensitive turns around, and Cody feels his body lock up as two orders fight for supremacy.
Obi-Wan Kenobi is alive.
CC-2224 has failed in executing Order 66.
CC-2224 will fail in ensuring the safety of Luke Skywalker if he executes the traitor now.
CC-2224 has a blaster right to his forehead. It would be easy. The plastoid creaks under his grip, finger attempting to move to the trigger and being stopped, because some part of CC-2224 knows that the collateral from pulling the trigger would incapitate himself. CC-2224 does not fail. His record has been spotless, and he will not have it known that he has failed now.
He cannot be reassigned. He cannot be reconditioned. He cannot be decommissioned. It is more important that he stays with Luke. Luke never needs to know that a man died while he was at school.
Kenobi is looking at him, eyes wide, and he has not moved yet.
Kenobi was always sentimental, even more so than Tano. He has already been disarmed. He is making no effort to move, to talk, or do anything but look and the gaze pierces through CC-2224 and Cody, spearing the two of them.
Kenobi is someone CC-2224 can manipulate. Kenobi taught Lord Vader, and thus is certainly qualified more than anyone else could be to teach Luke, especially now that he’s apparently separate from the Rebellion.
Kenobi was also the High General. Kenobi was one of the greatest traitors of the war. They had all received commendations for killing him, and now he isn’t dead. He may be manipulatable, but he wasn’t known as the Negotiator for nothing. CC-Cody had seen him win over people that he had never thought would listen.
CC-2224 is certain that Kenobi has to die.
CC-2224 is certain that Kenobi has to live.
The transition between the two states is happening so rapidly that neither has a chance to move, and the blaster is creaking dangerously in his grasp, and Cody has no idea how long it’s been. For once, neither does the chip.
“Cody?” Kenobi’s voice sounds so kriffing hopeful. “Are you in there?”
“Traitor,” comes out of Cody’s mouth, strangled, and the blaster gives up the ghost, cracking into rough metal and plastic pieces.
His hand is bleeding.
Something has to change and he’s desperately afraid and desperately hopeful that it will end in death.
“Cody, please. Please, I can hear you, you can fight it.”
I know, he wants to snap. I’ve been doing that for years. Now shut up and let me convince myself that you’re important enough to not kill.
Kenobi shuts up.
Luke needs training. Since the first incident, his understable emotional upsets have more often than not led to turning into a strange creature of light, which is not safe when such activities would lead to Luke being found by the Empire and likely apprenticed to Emperor Palpatine, who should not be allowed to mentor children or adults. Lord Vader never did that, as far as he knows, and given his correspondence with CT-7576 and that trooper’s relationship with both Lord Vader and Senator Amidala, CC-2224 would have been aware if he needed to worry about Lord Vader becoming some sort of strange energy creature. Therefore, he did not experience this problem in adulthood. Given that Luke was in a much healthier environment than Lord Vader, the only real difference that could be noted was that Lord Vader was taught by Kenobi.
CC-2224 needs Kenobi to train Luke.
Kenobi, not another traitor. There is no guarantee that another traitor could help Luke. There is no guarantee that Kenobi could help Luke. Cody is trapped and he can’t decide anything and he does not know what to do or how to fix this and break the lock.
“Confirm.” His earpiece crackles to life. “What is your position? Respond immediately.”
Fourdee’s voice breaks the stalemate.
“Position steady. ETA?”
“Forty minutes.”
He can’t kill Kenobi and dispose of all the evidence before Luke gets home. Luke does not respond favorably to murder. Children-
Oh no that’s the worst idea. He can’t lean into that. He can dispose of Kenobi later. No, he also shouldn’t do that. Fine. Fine.
“I need you to find the Force suppressors and bring them here.”
Kenobi doesn’t protest, but does flinch.
“Injectable, or cuffs?”
“Do we still have those decorative cuffs that Luke hasn’t seen?”
“I modified them, but yes.”
“Do they still work, Fourdee?”
“Of course.” He sounds offended, and Cody could be amused if this was any other time. “I will be right over. May I experiment on this Force-sensitive?”
“No. He will be tutoring Luke and assisting around the house.”
“Will he? Impressive. I thought we would have to hunt one down. And a maid at the same time, how nice.”
“One came to us, Fourdee. Just. Bring them. Quickly.”
Cody needs to get onto this path before his brain starts fighting itself again.
“Understood, not my Master and can’t actually order me around.”
The earpiece clicks off. Kenobi looks confused, and around the corner of his eyes there’s the tightness that Cody right now wishes he didn’t know meant pain.
“Sorry, what’s happening to me now?”
“Luke needs a trainer. Using a traitor that is already on the planet is easier than hunting one down. You trained his father, and are thus qualified for his more unique challenges. And given that I have not heard about you as you follow us, you must have gotten better at not being recognized, so I do not need to worry about needing to move again.” Cody pauses, taking a deep breath. This is not his best decision. “And children do better with two adults to provide support. Despite the fact that I’ve been able to devote almost all of my time to Luke, having another adult around would be good.”
“I’m good at being undercover. I’ve done a lot of being undercover.” Kenobi looks offended. “I was never bad at being undercover.”
“You did that work before you became notorious. And we’re not getting your face changed again, although I’m sure that Fourdee is capable of such a procedure.”
“Well.” He looks grumpy. “I suppose.”
His eyes are still tight. Good. He should be on edge. CC-2224 is fully capable of murdering Kenobi, and if he relaxes, he becomes an easier target. Fuck. He can’t move Luke from Alderaan so soon, he’s enjoying the school, but Bail Organa was one of Kenobi’s friends, so Cody would have to be very, very careful about how much freedom Kenobi was allowed, although he was also decently sure that if Cody explained all of this his guilt over possibly harming Luke would prevent him from actually doing anything.
Best to get started, then.
“I have a list of tenants of the Order that you will not be allowed to teach Luke. I also have a list of sources on how the ones I have removed are psychologically harmful, and will be providing the reading list. You will be expected to read them. Do not attempt to escape, do not attempt to circumvent the house rules, and do not anger Fourdee.” Cody pauses and considers. “And I will be keeping your lightsaber.”
Kenobi frowns.
“Those all seem quite reasonable. More so than expected. Why the Force suppressors? I can’t exactly teach him if I can’t use the Force.”
“You are,” Cody grits out, “a threat. And a traitor to the Empire. Until and unless you can prove trustworthiness, they will remain on unless you are teaching Luke, or if they become a hindrance to your health.”
It wouldn’t do any good to have Kenobi die on him, anyways.
“I’m perfectly healthy.”
Cody looks at Kenobi, deadpan. He can hear Fourdee approaching.
“Good. Then you won’t object to Fourdee giving you a medical checkup.” It’s the first thing he’s said that makes Kenobi look like he wants to run. “He’s used to doing this for Luke, and has learned bedside manners.”
“I always knew bedside manners, I just didn’t see the point.” Fourdee hands Cody another blaster, and leans down to snap the Force suppressors onto an unprotesting Kenobi. “What’s the plan, here?”
Cody can feel a headache building behind his eyes. Every step of this feels wrong on a bone-deep level.
“Take him back to the house, give him a medical check up, and I’ll clean up and meet Luke at the bus stop. Please get him to give some sort of food order. We’ll be doing takeout.”
“Can I take blood samples?” Fourdee sounds wistful. “I do not retain my knowledge of previous blood samples taken from Force-sensitives, and I wish to compare Luke’s to his.”
The headache is blooming wonderfully. Cody is going to need to dig out the pain medication.
“Same parameters as treating Luke, Fourdee. Acceptable?”
“Acceptable,” Fourdee grumbles out, tucking a very confused Kenobi under one set of his arms and leaving.
“Sorry, I can walk? You don’t actually need to carry me-”
The door closes and Cody doesn’t bother to try and keep listening, just falls to his knees and holds his head. It hasn’t hurt like this since the chip was in full control. And the chip didn’t care about pain.
They need Kenobi. Cody needs Kenobi to stay. He’s - he was good with kids even when he was confused by them, and he functionally taught Lord Vader and Tano, and he does poorly enough on his own that he might stay just because this way someone will be making sure he eats and sleeps instead of waiting for him to pass out. He needs that. So he’ll stay. Kenobi will stay, and he won’t betray Cody because one of Kenobi’s faults is that he cares. He thinks Cody can be- saved, or something. He doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter what he thinks. It matters what he will do. Kenobi won’t betray them.
Cody is crying, he realizes.
There’s no other reason for the floor to be wet.
He drags himself up. The water is still connected in this house, he’s fairly certain. He has to clean up and get Luke. Surprise him and walk him home.
He does a good enough job that Luke doesn’t seem to notice when Cody smiles at the bus stop and tells them they’re going to go pick up an early dinner.
“...Dad?” Luke pauses in front of Cody, who is holding the pizza boxes. He should have known that when he said whatever Luke wanted they were going to end up with pizza. “There’s a man?” Luke tilts his head to the side. “He looks familiar.”
“I know, Luke. He’s going to teach you how to use the Force, and how to control it the way you want.”
“Oh. I thought you said you’d have to leave me with Fourdee while you looked for someone, if this planet worked out?”
“He... Came to us, Luke.”
Luke nods uncertainly and moves forward so Cody can drop the boxes on the table.
“Hi?” Luke squints at Kenobi. “Do I know you?”
Kenobi smiles softly.
“You knew me back on Tatooine. Old Ben Kenobi?”
Cody is going to strangle Kenobi just for the complete idiocy he is displaying, actually. He went undercover with his own last name, and just- what? Hoped the sand would protect him? He grips the edge of the table and listens.
“Oh! Hermit Ben! You can use the Force?”
Luke beams at him, and Cody would swear he can actually see Kenobi have the same reaction as everyone else upon seeing Luke for the first time. Deciding that he is too bright to actually exist, and then realizing that he still does. Good. He’ll protect Luke. Cody deliberately ignores the rest of the conversation as he gets out plates and napkins, because if he listens he doesn’t know what he will do, and Fourdee will make sure to get his attention if he is needed.
Because they’re busy talking, Cody steals the first slice of pizza while it’s still perfectly hot and gooey. There’s lots of best things about raising Luke, and one of them is good fresh food that isn’t rations or cafeteria food.
It’s the first month of school, and Cody can already tell that this is going to be a very tiring year. The chip is scraping at his brain, Kenobi is going to be a permanent fixture in their house, and he’s not looking forward to it. He is looking forward to it. He’s- He’s missed his traitor. No one else has ever talked to him the same way. No one else has ever been as kind. Even though it was a traitor’s plot, it worked.
“Dad?”
Cody looks up and over at Luke.
“Mm? Yes, kid?”
“You’re crying.”
Cody touches his face.
“Oh. It’s okay, Luke. I. I know we haven’t had to have the inside outside thought talk for a bit, but. That’s what’s happening. I’m okay, I promise. Just thinking.”
Kenobi looks concerned as well. He reaches out a bit, and Cody pulls back, making him flinch and pull his hand back, dropping it to his plate.
“Okay. If you’re sure. Can you meditate with me tonight?”
Cody smiles, soft and happy.
“Yeah, I can do that. Especially since we have a guest who can do the dishes.”
“Traditionally speaking, guests don’t have to do the dishes on Alderaan.”
“Luckily, we’re not actually Alderaanian, so you can do the dishes.” Cody’s smile gains an edge as he looks at Kenobi. He wishes it wouldn’t. “I will be helping Luke with his meditation. So. Enjoy. The dishwasher is sonic, so you do not need to worry about extended scrubbing.”
Kenobi grumbles.
“I feel like you’re putting me on KP duty for talking back.”
Cody smiles blandly.
“I do outrank you, at the moment. Enjoy the dishes.” He takes a large bite, and lets the warm grease of the pizza drip onto the plate, ignoring Kenobi’s groan and Luke’s uncertain laugh. He’s going to have so much to explain tonight.
For now, though, there’s pizza. Luke is right. Hot bread and cheese and some tomato products do cure many ills.
It’s different, meditating now that the person who taught him is downstairs. But all the same, Luke feels better when they meditate together. Apparently it’s easier for him to concentrate and get into the right state of mind to meditate when he can focus on someone else.
Cody’s having his own troubles. He’d been able to use this right after escaping with Luke to help settle the differences between what he wanted and what the chip wanted. Now, though, not so much.
Not with the man causing the divide right downstairs.
Cody pulls away from that. He can’t focus on that. He holds how important Luke is in his mind, how happy he’s been on Alderaan. He’s already started to make friends at the ridiculously expensive school that Cody’s got him in, and Fourdee will be annoyed if he has to fiddle with their IDs for yet another background check so soon.
Luke is getting to join clubs now. He’s already been talking about the robotics club, which, to Cody, sounds more like an anything mechanical club. And he’s thinking about joining a debate club, apparently, which Cody’s encouraged. He can’t take Luke away from that now. He’s happy. He’s getting friends. Cody was hoping to let him spend middle school and high school in the same place.
It wasn’t the Empire tracking them. And it wasn’t the Rebellion. So Cody might not need to move that much. Kenobi had consistently managed his least logical stunts when it was in defense of people he cared about.
He’s likely to do it again, thinking that this is what Cody needs.
He had cared for Cody. Cody can use that. He can imply that it would hurt him, to kill Kenobi, and even with his Force powers Kenobi should read that as truth. So he does not need to kill Kenobi. Kenobi can be an asset, and one that Cody can control. Certainly better than he can control Fourdee or Luke.
Cody finally settles into meditation, and hears Luke mutter finally from across the room. But given how long it took Luke to meditate for more than five minutes at a time, he has absolutely nothing to complain about when it comes to Cody needing time to rebalance his priorities.
Cody finds himself meditating a lot over the next week, as Kenobi settles in and Luke gets comfortable enough to ask him questions. Maybe if he hadn’t moved into a house that could easily fit five people he could have had an excuse to make Kenobi live in a separate house. But that would have been a security risk. Fuck.
It’s during one of those mediations, upstairs in his room with the door open, that he hears Luke and his traitor talking.
“I realize it’s a bit late, but I did make something after you gave me that waterskin.”
“You still have that?”
Cody smiles to himself. Luke sounds exactly as embarrassed as he does when Cody keeps one of his projects.
“Yes, I do. It means a lot to me, I’m afraid. It was one of the first gifts I had received in quite a long time. Would you like the gift I made you?”
“If you want?” Luke’s voice sounds hesitant. “It’s - I can’t promise I’ll be able to keep it, if we have to leave again.”
“That’s alright. It’s a rather small carving- I’ll just go get it.”
Cody hears the rustle and movement on the stairs as his traitor heads to his room, and then back down. He shouldn’t listen to more. Luke deserves to have some time that is just his own, and his traitor is unlikely to begin attempting to get Luke to leave this early on, if he tries at all.
But he worries and wants, so he continues to listen, rather than sinking back into his own mind and working on his fight there.
“Oh! Oh, wow, this is really detailed! I didn’t think there were any ARC-170 references to go on!”
Cody knows exactly where his traitor learned their shape. He hopes that Luke doesn’t find out.
“Well, I heard that you were interested in the sky, and I thought you might like a ship. At first, I thought that you could use it as a figurine, but I suppose now it would be more of a collectible. That’s what tweens are doing nowadays, yes?”
Luke laughs.
“Sure. Do you mind if I paint it?”
“Not at all. I’m simply glad that this is still a good gift for you, after so many years.”
“Yeah! It’s impressive! Thanks, Ben!”
Cody lets himself sink back into meditation as he hears Luke and his traitor begin to discuss the technical specifications of ships. Luke did inherit Lord Vader’s mechanical expertise, and a bit more, and Cody has become used to being soother, hearing Luke chatter happily about his latest project. Cody always knows just enough to follow along, and that makes Luke happy.
Cody still hasn’t found anything that he wants to learn, beyond enough to keep up with Luke. He knows there must be something out there for him.
He doesn’t know what it is.
Cody enters the kitchen, following a horrible smell, and finds Kenobi.
“What. Are you doing.”
Kenobi looks up from the stove, where he is stirring a pot that does not smell like anything Cody has ever smelled in food before. He looks blank and a bit confused.
“Cooking?”
“... Cooking something edible?”
Kenobi looks down at the pot and blinks at it in confusion.
“... Probably edible. I’m not that picky.”
Cody has a sudden, sinking feeling. Kenobi had never been good at taking care of himself. It had been foolish to hope that he would have learned how in the intervening time. Cody reframes Kenobi not showing up at meals from him being polite to him just not eating.
“When was the last time you ate?”
“... A reasonable amount of time ago.”
“Kenobi.” Cody hasn’t used this tone of voice in ages, and it feels strange to pull up old war mannerisms now. “When did you last eat.”
Kenobi winces.
“... Two days ago I had midnight eggs and bacon.”
Cody sees red briefly. That hasn’t happened in years. He can pinpoint the last time it happened, actually, and it was when Kenobi was still his General and came back from a mission with the 501st having not slept in a week or eaten in five days. Force banthashit or no, that was unacceptable.
“Sit down.”
“I’m perfectly fine, Cody-”
“Sit. Down. I am going to cook you a meal, since you are incapable of taking care of yourself, and it would upset Luke if you passed out and you should also not be modeling such a failure of self care for him. Then, you are getting a full med scan from Fourdee, since I doubt you actually let him give you one.”
“I’m perfectly fine, Cody,” Kenobi protests as Cody manhandles him into a chair, sitting him down. The bags under his eyes are worse than they were when he first got here. Kenobi isn’t sleeping, either. Cody realizes that he has been staring into Kenobi’s eyes and pulls away to dump the contents of the pot into the compost bin, ignoring his protests.
Cody is going to have to take care of his- of Kenobi, isn’t he? For Luke’s sake. Definitely for Luke’s sake.
He starts making risotto. Not because Kenobi has said he likes it. Just because Cody has a pressure cooker so he can make it quickly and it should be filling and nutritious. Not as much as a ration bar, but there’s no way Cody could get him to eat a ration bar.
“... So you learned how to cook?”
Cody probably doesn’t need to respond to that. It’s pretty self-evident, he thinks, as he sautees the onion and garlic and mushrooms together. But despite the traitors’ insistence that they have no attachments and do not need them, they did not do well without interaction with other sapients.
“Yes. Ration bars are adequate and complete nutrition, but Luke doesn’t like them, and takeout is expensive and not necessarily healthy. Plus, cooking means that takeout or going out to restaurants can be a treat, instead of the norm.”
“That makes sense. Does Luke have favorites?”
“He is very, very fond of instant ramen with whatever we have on hand.” Cody is regrettably quite happy to indulge him in that. He’s fairly certain it can’t actually be a good idea to eat quite as many noodles as Luke would like to, but he still has a varied diet and Fourdee says his medical checkups read as nominal or better, so it’s not worth arguing about.
“It’s good to have favorites.” Kenobi’s voice is fairly bland. “I’m sure you support him as best you can.”
Cody turns around at that, leaving the rice to toast.
“I do. I have been caring for Luke since he was five. He is growing up into someone who is healthy, and well adjusted, and he has friends. He keeps friends. Every time we land on a new planet he has had to start that all over again. That’s not acceptable, really, he should get to stay in one place, but he can’t. Do you know why we couldn’t do that?”
Kenobi looks pained.
“Me, I would imagine.”
Cody snorts, and ignores the flash of an emotion he can’t quite recognize in himself.
“You? No. Well, the past year, yes, but before that no. Because the Emperor wants him, and that cannot happen. And he is looking. So is Luke’s birth father, I would imagine, although I can’t tell the difference between his traces and the Emperor’s. Long live his reign,” Cody adds, as an afterthought. Kenobi winces again.
“Ah. I don’t quite understand the point, I’m afraid.”
“The point is that I have done the absolute best I can, given the circumstances. You don’t need to- to doubt it.” Cody hates this. “I’ve certainly done a much better job of caring for him and me than you have of taking care of yourself.”
He turns back to the pot before he can see Kenobi’s reaction, holding the spoon tightly as he pushes around the rice. It’s not going to be his best risotto. He drops the stock in, and lids the pot, setting it to cook.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, Cody.”
Cody’s shoulders don’t untense. There’s too much happening, and too much to be tense about.
“Did you want cheese or no cheese?”
“I’ll take lots of cheese, thank you. Do you want help grating it?”
Cody shakes his head as he opens up the fridge and pulls out the cheese from the fridge, and gets a bowl and the grater. It’s easier to sit across from him at the table with something to do, and he grates the cheese methodically into the bowl.
“I’m afraid we don’t have any pecorino. Just parmesan. I can add some miso paste, if you’d like more savouriness.”
“Being awfully considerate, aren’t you?” Kenobi raises an eyebrow. At least he can manage being sardonic, still. Cody had known it was truly bad in the war when Kenobi hadn’t even managed that. “I wouldn’t have expected that.”
“You’re no good to anyone if you pass out,” Cody snaps without thinking. He notices Kenobi flinch, and his shoulders move just enough to tell Cody that he wants to curl up. “When was the last time you slept?”
“...Recently.” Kenobi’s hands are hidden under the table, but Cody can tell he is gripping something, whether that is his knees or just hand in hand. “No issues there.”
“So multiple days.” Cody sighs, and has to reposition his hands on the cheese and the grater before he breaks something. “Did you let Fourdee do a medical scan at all, when he carried you away?”
“No. He wanted my blood, and I happen to enjoy that inside my body.”
Cody can’t help it. He laughs, having to set everything down so he doesn’t knock over the grated cheese. Kenobi, the man who almost never avoided somehow getting injured, claiming he enjoys his blood inside his body.
“Cody? Cody, it wasn’t that amusing.”
He can’t stop laughing. He thinks he might be crying, now, heaving out sobs. His life is so incredibly kriffed up. He hears Kenobi making concerned noises, and vaguely feels someone patting his back.
It’s probably Kenobi, but it could be Fourdee. He doesn’t know. He’s so fucked up. He decides it’s Fourdee for his own peace of mind. He’s probably missed the pressure cooker turning off, and it’s supposed to be quick released, not slow released. So he hasn’t even managed feeding someone. That’s fine. He can figure it out. Cody gets up, picking up the cheese, and ignores the fact that he cannot process who is speaking to him or what they are saying. He just knows that he has time, because this is lunch, and Luke has a club after school.
The risotto looks salvageable, or at least edible, after Cody’s dumped the cheese in and mixed it up. Given that this is already saving Kenobi from eating a questionably edible depression meal, Cody does not feel bad about putting a spoon in it and setting it at his place at the table before leaving.
He locks his door. Fourdee has a key, if he’s needed. He needs to make himself presentable.
He’s in too many pieces to truly put himself back together. But his facade can be perfect, as always. Even if it shatters at a breath, these days.
Chapter 6: i would like to reach out my hand
Summary:
It turns out it's easy to fall back into old habits with someone when they're with the first natborn you ever really bonded with, even when there's two new people in the picture.
(Cody gets domestic, and manages to get higher than a gold medal in the mental gymnastic olympics)
Notes:
Last chapter was also: Congratulations, you all get to live with my headcanons for what happens when the Force makes a kid, and then that Force-created person has kids!
IE, someone who's half human and half force and wholly unaware until then
This chapters specific warnings are Obi-Wan's continued lack of self care, and some needles (related to medscan)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It takes a few days for Cody to realize that Kenobi never actually got the medscan that Cody had threatened him with. He did always manage to duck them in the war. Cody would like to pretend he realized it because of his own memory. Instead he realizes because Fourdee looks at Kenobi one morning instead of pointedly ignoring him and only paying attention to Luke, in some sort of passive-aggressive display of how he does not care that Kenobi will not give him blood.
“Your temperature is down by three degrees, and has been decreasing steadily as you have spent time with us. You will submit to a medical scan, or I will hold you down and run a complete scan, including bloodwork, and I will find any long term health maintenance you have been putting off. When was the last time you went to a dentist?”
Kenobi winces and sets down his cup of sugary tea. Cody had watched him dunk four cubes in, and stir. Cody just settles in to watch the show, sipping his caf. Fourdee has chosen the battleground well, with Luke at the breakfast table and able to look like he needs a good example set.
“I thought that being treated like Luke meant that you would listen when I said no, you Sith contraption. You cannot have my blood. And I will find my own dentist.”
“I was not manufactured for or by the Sith, Jedi. And relevant to the protocol regarding Luke’s medical treatment is a clause that if his health appears to be declining, I am still allowed to run a check-up. If you do not schedule a time today to do it, then I will surprise you when you least expect it.”
Luke watches this with a frown, and decides to interject.
“It’s not like the desert. We have enough stuff. Dad keeps multiple tanks of bacta, and we have kolto because it works better for Force-sensitives, Fourdee says. And Fourdee’s a really good doctor, even if you have to remind him that you don’t want him to do tests on your blood.”
“I would not publicize the test results until after your natural death, Luke.”
“He still doesn’t want you doing it, Fourdee,” Cody remarks, shoving the plate with the bacon over to Luke. “So you won’t.”
“I simply await the day that you will realize that anything published after your death cannot be used against you,” Fourdee says serenely. “And you should eat more fruit.” He reaches out and scoops fruit salad from the bowl to Luke’s plate, directly over the slices of bacon Luke had just added. Cody can appreciate the passive aggression.
“Fourdee, why!”
Cody watches the scene with a smile before reaching out and snagging Kenobi’s sleeve as he tries to leave.
“Medscan.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Kenobi wilts.
“I’ve been doing healing meditations, Cody. I promise that I’m fine.”
“You can get checked out by Fourdee, or you can deal with me. There is no option that does not have you getting checked up by someone.”
Luke scoops up fruit wrapped in bacon and nods.
“It would set a bad example for me. You don’t want to set a bad example for a poor impressionable tween.” Luke pouts at Kenobi, infusing his voice with deep sadness. Cody notes that clearly the theatre class is working. “I could drop out of school and start self-medicating with partying.”
“Luke, who taught you that phrase?”
“I asked Fourdee why you drank so much caf, and he said that you were self-medicating with large amounts of caf, and that-” Luke snapped his mouth shut, and gave Cody his most angelic look. “That you’re lucky you have such a good metabolism.”
Cody looks between Luke and Fourdee. He curls his hand around his cup protectively, drawing it closer to him.
“I drink a perfectly normal amount of caf.”
The universal sounds of amusement in the kitchen, including from Kenobi, make Cody pick up his cup and take a deep drink.
“You don’t even let me drink caf.”
“You’re too young for caf. If you need caffeine, you can have some tea.”
Luke rolls his eyes.
“Maybe I’ll start using my allowance to buy energy drinks. Or soda!”
“You don’t like the taste of either of those. Or the texture of the bubbles.” Cody raises an eyebrow as he sips again. “So I don’t think that’s a very serious threat. If you’re having issues staying awake, we can reduce your training time, or change your sleep schedule.”
Luke shovels food into his mouth and quickly scrambles out of his chair.
“No, I'm fine thanks dad, no need to change anything!” He scoops up his backpack and heads out the door.
Cody hides his grin in his cup of caf. Which he drinks a perfectly normal amount of, thank you Luke and Fourdee.
“Have a nice day! Text if you want a pickup!”
“Okay dad bye!”
Luke slams the door behind him, rattling the frame. Cody makes a mental note that the frame needs more reinforcement if it’s still rattling, and then looks around and realizes that Kenobi has disappeared. He sighs.
“Did you see him leave?”
“Out into the backyard, I believe.”
Cody sighs, gathering up the plates to fridge and clean up.
“Can you take care of him? Or do I need to?”
Fourdee shrugs all four shoulders.
“I’m afraid that he would find it much easier to evade me. And similarly, while I understand that you do not want to change the protocols for how I interact with him, Luke’s protocols applied to him make it much easier for him to avoid my tender care.”
“Kriff.” Cody leans over the sink and scrubs. “What do you think is wrong with him, then?”
“The cuffs, most likely. Long-term use of Force suppressants hasn’t been studied, mostly because they have died before anything could be considered long term. Mostly unrelated. If there is any data specifically on how they interact, I cannot say that I have that knowledge stored in my memory banks.”
“... What is the likely progression of his health, if they remain on?”
“Continual downward slope.” Fourdee whirrs softly, venting heat. “This may be mitigated by removing one cuff, allowing him restricted access to the Force, or simply removing both cuffs and replacing them with a house arrest cuff.”
Cody sighs. CC-2224 wants to try removing just one cuff, or allowing heavily restricted access to the Force, but that doesn’t seem efficient.
“How long would it take you to prep a discreet tracking bracelet that would let me incapacitate him if he tried to run off?
“Approximately... one hour, to make the bracelets look similar so that Luke will not question it. I may be able to add a function that would allow for remote activation of suppressors, but I will not promise it.”
“Let me know if you can manage it, Fourdee, but anything will be fine.”
Cody will most likely have to give Kenobi a bacta shot, so he won’t be going anywhere in the next hour. The bracelets will prevent Kenobi from leaving and allow his health to recover at the same time. He’s no good to anyone dead.
He’s good to CC-2224 dead. The plates rattle as the dishwasher is loaded. Finally finishing the order, fixing his failure. He would be so easy to kill, not on guard, and drained right now, his health failing. The best way to kill a traitor. A fair fight meant you weren’t thinking strategically.
Cody doesn’t want that to happen. He focuses desperately on Luke. Luke needs a trainer. There is one right here. It is not efficient to kill Kenobi or let him die when he is the best possible trainer. He places the last glass into the dishwasher carefully.
Cody knows how to care for Kenobi. He can pull that back up now. He clearly needs to. It’s not wasted time or effort.
“Get them made, Fourdee. I’ll go after Kenobi.”
He starts the dishwasher as Fourdee nods and leaves to his room.
Cody always knows exactly where he is in relation to the medkit, so it doesn’t take him any time at all to pull it out and go hunt down Kenobi. He’s meditating in the backyard, which is not the smartest hiding place that he’s ever come up with.
“Can you even do a healing meditation, cut off from the Force?”
It’s a genuine question, and something important to know, to both CC-2224 and Cody. Kenobi opens one eye.
“There are healing benefits to meditation, even without the Force. I will admit that it is not a specifically healing meditation without the Force. This was just a normal one, to get what benefits I can. And if you don’t mind, I would like to continue. I imagine I’m not any good to Luke dead.”
Kenobi’s voice is soft. Cody almost wishes he would be a bit acerbic. Just enough so that Cody would be able to feel some guilt, before CC-2224 wipes it away.
“Come back inside. I’m going to run a medscan on you, and determine our next actions from there.” Cody reaches out and puts his hand on Kenobi’s upper arm. “Come on, s-”
He rocks back, hand moving to his throat, and coughs as CC-2224 cuts the word off the moment Cody’s throat begins to form it. Mistake. He let himself slip too far back into old patterns.
“Cody?” Kenobi sets a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe you should get a scan as well.”
“I know what it will find.”
Cody stands up and turns.
“That doesn’t mean it’s not a good idea. You may be missing something, for all you know.”
“Will you get a medscan if I do?” Cody doesn't have enough energy to put any emotion into his voice. Just dull monotone. “That would be an acceptable trade.”
“Yes. I think that would be acceptable. Come on, Cody.”
Kenobi takes Cody’s upper arm and it takes everything he has not to whip out a knife and stab him. His heart and throat are right there. But this is Kenobi giving Cody what he wants. A medscan, and he isn’t taking advantage of this obvious weakness. Even CC-2224 can’t deny that this lowers his threat assessment.
So he sits through his scan in the incredibly complex full-body scanner that Cody got. It comes back exactly as expected, throwing warnings about the joint between prosthetic and flesh and just barely finding where CC-2224 sits inside of Cody’s brain.
“Now you let me scan you. As agreed.”
“Yes, I did say.” Kenobi gets into the scanner tube agreeably, which marks the first time that Cody has ever seen him do that.
Cody glances over his own scan. CC-2224, exactly where expected in his brain. Irritation at the joint of his leg and flesh, despite the bacta pads that Cody has to replace every morning. Lord Vader had given Cody a prosthetic just like his own, and years of irritation there have left him with chronic pain. It’s possible he should get a replacement, but this one is durasteel and beskar and it does work.
The scan light washes over Kenobi in soft greens meant to be soothing. All it does for him is make him look sickly, highlight the hollows of his cheeks and remind Cody of the many, many times his. His. Had had to be dropped in bacta. At least there was no one to goad him into idiotic stunts, not that he needed much. He seemed to delight in it.
The medscan starts to highlight issues, and Cody leans back in his chair, sighing. The idiot had been wandering around with broken ribs, he was malnourished, he had some old wounds that weren’t healing well, and his immune system was apparently slowly beginning to fail.
So the Force suppressors have to at least partially come off. He’s not interested in playing around with Kenobi’s life, not when he’s going to be important to Luke. Luke knows him, in any case, has fallen right into an easy sort-of friendship with the man, poking fun at him about how he had lived alone in the desert.
It’s probably a bad idea to keep Kenobi in Force suppressors anyways. The cost-benefit analysis doesn’t shake out right, not when Luke knows Kenobi and apparently trusts him. Finding out that Cody is harming him wouldn’t be good for their relationship, and Luke would look at him sadly, and Cody has found that he is incredibly weak when it comes to Luke’s puppy-dog eyes.
When the tube slides open, Cody reaches in, lightning quick, and presses his thumb to the print reader on one bracelet, and then the next, ignoring the look on Kenobi’s face as they fall to the bottom of the scanner tube.
“Both of them, Cody?” Kenobi rubs at his wrists despite the complete lack of irritation there. “How unexpected. Or are you planning to replace them later?”
“Fourdee is crafting the equivalent of house arrest bracelets for you, so that you will still not be able to leave. He is adding remote-activated Force suppressors to them, so any attempt to leave will put you right back to where you started.”
Kenobi winces.
“That seems... fair. Can you tell me what the parameters are?”
“No more than 100 meters away from the house unless with me. Enough space if we have a fire or other emergency, but not enough to leave.”
Cody rummages in the drawers and pulls out bacta and a syringe.
“You need a dose.”
“I’m sure I don’t, especially now that I can actually do a healing meditation.” Kenobi smiles in the way he has that makes it seem like everything he’s just said makes sense, without needing the Force at all. Cody ignores the flush in his cheeks, because that’s a natural reaction to Kenobi. “Are you quite sure you’re alright, Commander?”
“Not a Commander anymore.”
Kenobi flushes and looks away, and his voice gets even quieter.
“Right. But you’re sure you’re okay?”
“I’m operating within all normal parameters.” Cody loads up the bacta syringe. “You haven’t developed an allergy to bacta, correct?”
“No. No, I’m perfectly fine, thank you.”
Kenobi doesn’t resist as Cody carefully swabs off his shoulder and injects him slowly. Cody rubs at the injection site, making sure that everything is fine, and then withdraws his hand, causing Kenobi to whine quietly and lean towards him.
Cody frowns and puts his hand back on Kenobi’s shoulder, causing a shuddering gasp. He leans over to check on his readouts, and frowns at his cortisol levels.
“You’re stressed. And your oxytocin levels are incredibly low. When was the last time you touched someone?”
Kenobi has turned a delicate shade of pink.
“I hardly think that’s appropriate to ask. Or important for health.”
Cody is cursed with knowledge from many, many parenting books, although part of him insists that it’s more like being blessed as he opens his mouth.
“Touch is important at all developmental stages for the human body. It increases oxytocin, helps regulate heartbeat and temperature, and is overall soothing for humans in all stages of life, and while it is arguably more important for younger children, that does not make it not important for you.”
Cody is gently massaging Kenobi’s shoulder, because this is what he needs. And he so clearly needs it, melting under Cody’s touch.
“If you would prefer that I not touch you, I will stop. But your health is important to me. I need you to be healthy. For teaching Luke,” he adds on. He hopes that Kenobi understands, and when he looks up at Cody hopefully Cody assumes that he does.
“If it’s not a bother. I suppose you might not be getting a lot of touch either?”
“You’d think, but I suspect that Luke is actually part octopus. We just haven’t had a movie night while you’re here. That kid will drape himself over me with the popcorn and some pillows. And he’s a hugger. If you tell him that you’re comfortable with hugs, you’ll start getting them all the time. He even hugs Fourdee, and Fourdee is sharp.”
Cody helps Kenobi out of the scanner, draping his arm over Cody’s shoulder as the bacta begins to kick in and Cody sees Kenobi’s eyes dilate slightly. He didn’t bother getting the type without side effects.
“He’s a good kid, you know. Glad he didn’t inherit... his. His sweet tooth.”
Cody remembers Lord Vader’s sweet tooth from before the suit made eating anything impossible.
“He likes an uj cake. But he won’t eat something for the sake of sweetness, no. Not like him. Quite an omnivore, though.”
“That’s a good trait, though,” Kenobi mumbles. Cody pushes open the door to the room that was his, and traces a hand thoughtlessly over one of his cheekbones. “Mm. In many scenarios, that kept him alive. I’m sure it will be helpful for Luke as well.”
“I’d like to prevent that from occurring in the first place, however. I’m not teaching him self defense and weapons and survival techniques for nothing. It’ll prevent him from even needing to survive like that, I hope.”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, actually. I’d like to help with his training. There’s some Jedi-specific techniques that he could learn.”
“Do not teach my son to avoid medbay and need to be hunted down to be forced to remember meal time, Kenobi.”
“I won’t!” Kenobi laughs quietly. “I won’t, Cody, you’ve made your standards very clear. Speaking- speaking of standards.”
Cody lays Kenobi down in bed, under the covers, and gets in on top of them.
“Speak later. You’re about to pass out.”
He drapes himself over Kenobi, and is rewarded with a soft happy smile.
“Okay. Later. I want to work with you, Cody. I always liked working with you.”
The chip quiets a bit as Kenobi says that he wants to work with Cody, and he finds himself relaxing where he’s draped over Kenobi. His traitor. He yawns, keeping an eye on Kenobi, whose breathing is already evening out. He reaches up a hand to cup Kenobi’s face.
“Ner aruetii.”
(There’s no one there to hear him, so he doesn’t feel his throat tighten.)
Notes:
one day im going to run out of fun and relevant song lyrics but not until -checks notes- chapter 9 at least i've got through there
Chapter 7: and did you know the liberty bell is a replica
Summary:
Quite reasonable fatherly decisions include: constructing an in-ground pool just because your son has become friends with a Princess, and considering finally getting a prosthetic that wasn't made for Lord Vader originally
Definitely reasonable. Just ask Cody.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
They didn’t talk about the cuddling, afterwards. Which was for the best, Cody reminded himself. Kenobi was fitted with the new bracelets, Luke didn’t appear to suspect anything, and Fourdee had only stolen one vial of blood from Kenobi while he was passed out.
It would almost definitely be badly received if he were to suggest that, as touch starved as Kenobi apparently is, they should perhaps do that more. From both Kenobi and CC-2224, as he stirs at the idea that Cody would be cuddling more, an unacceptable weakness after the fact. There were too many things that could have happened. So Cody does not, even if he wants to, and simply starts sitting him down on the other side of the couch when he and Luke hang out together. He also just keeps a closer eye on him in general, making sure that he’s eating at least two meals a day and sleeping or at least staying in his room at night for eight hours.
There’s a lot of things that Kenobi used to need taken care of that Cody is attempting to remember, now. Feeding and rest and socialization, everything a traitor needs. And he was very good at taking care of his traitor. Kenobi has started to train Luke in the Force, so Cody’s had to up the number of snacks he has around for both of them now.
Despite what the traitors said, Cody knows that using the Force burns energy. He has watched it happen, watched Luke and Kenobi both eat more when Cody puts it on their plates. He’s also taken to watching Luke’s training, just for the pleasure of watching him get better. If it also helps him learn what days he needs to portion food, well. It does, and he’s never been one to waste food, even mess hall rations.
Cody stands in a window and discreetly watches when Luke is practicing with the Force. It’s always better for him to not be too close, when Luke is practicing with Kenobi. After removing the Force suppressors, Kenobi had started training Luke immediately. Just in the basics, but Luke took to it like a duck to water. Cody smiles as Luke manages to win the tug of war on a rock between him and Kenobi, sending it out into the forest.
“Hah! You got distracted!”
Cody doesn’t know what Kenobi could have been distracted by. They’re both wearing training helmets that Cody had procured, that hide their faces and prevent the two of them from relying on sight.
“I suppose I did, young one.” Kenobi sounds rueful as his helmet tilts up, and Cody could swear that he’s looking at him. “But you did a very good job with concentration. Do you want to work on floating, now?”
Luke slips off his helmet and beams at Kenobi.
“Yes! Yes, I absolutely want to work on floating.”
Cody steps away from the window, with a soft smile on his face. Luke is having fun, and learning things that will help him, and keep him safe. The fact that he’s enjoying it is just the cherry on the cake.
Luke’s already gotten much, much better with his use of the Force, rather than just sensing what Cody is going to do next. Cody spars with Luke, trading off days with Kenobi, and is still working him up in strength and dexterity. Now that he’s learning how to throw rocks, Cody can start teaching him to do that while he’s fighting.
But right now, he’s got to clean out the kitchen, get Fourdee to stay in his room, and start baking something.
Luke had informed him very solemnly that snacks were important when having friends over, and while this was more of a group project than having friends over, Cody assumes he can follow the same principles. The problem lay in the fact that Cody and Luke both had excellent spice tolerances, and he could not assume the same of the group project members, and he doesn’t know how to make snacks that didn’t burn the roof of your mouth with spice.
So he’s staring at the holonet and hoping that it will have answers for him. Everything seems bland, though. Chips and a dip that’s just cheese and sour cream and beans. Cookies, fine, although given Luke’s lack of a sweet tooth they won’t be anything special. He decides that the ham and cheese pinwheels seem fine, and he can make vegetables and hummus in case there’s vegetarians, but he is not making zucchini pizzas.
Cody pauses and pokes his head outside in the middle of Luke, doing a headstand and throwing rocks at Kenobi, who is dodging.
“Luke! Food allergies or restrictions?”
“None! Uh, actually, one of them’s a togruta!”
“Got it!”
Cody ducks back inside to the sound of Kenobi being hit by rocks. He’ll need meat-heavy options, then. Is a charcuterie board too much for kids? Luke enjoys grazing on them when Cody leaves one out. He’ll do it, and if they don’t like it, he and Kenobi can eat it. That settled, he starts, prepping for the pinwheels, laying out the charcuterie board, and mixing for the cookies.
It makes a mess, but never let it be said that Cody does not give Luke the best chance of success possible. Group projects are, apparently, a great way to make friends. Or enemies, according to the parenting forums, so Cody was going to try and make this good for his kid. Then he’ll make himself scarce.
Cody turns around after popping the cookies into the bottom oven and the pinwheels into the top to just lean against the counter for a moment, rubbing at the join of his prosthetic.
“Does it hurt?”
He doesn’t startle, but only because he’s already gotten used to Kenobi’s habit of sneaking up on him again.
“Not as much as it used to.” He stops rubbing, straightening up. “Radio and Fourdee did a good job.”
“Ah. So Radio was someone the two of you knew, not just someone that happened to learn about the two of you.”
“Luke named it,” Cody confirms. “It didn’t want to stay with us, though. Had its own things to do. It found you, then?”
“Not me specifically, no. I’m not sure it found the brother it was looking for, either, so it’s still there.”
Cody shrugs. It’s up to Radio what it wants to do with its time, after all, and it means that there’s someone in the Rebellion on his side, which is, of course, the side of the Empire. It also means that Radio will still be looking for the specific type of expert he needs, for a procedure that he cannot properly think about.
“I’m sure Radio is making good choices.” He winces as he settles weight onto his leg. Kriff. Kenobi isn’t going to let it go, now, hypocrite that he is. “How’s Luke’s training going?”
“Oh, quite well. Perhaps we should sit down and discuss it?”
“... Fine.”
Cody tromps over to the kitchen table and sits, feeling Kenobi following behind him, and sits. There’s no reason to hide the fact that he can’t quite manage his normal grace, right now. Sitting is a relief. The weight of his leg drags at him, and Cody would swear that the leg was designed to bring him pain if he didn’t know it was the same model as Lord Vader’s. Upgraded, even, with beskar and durasteel. That did make it heavier, but it shouldn’t’ve been that much.
Cody rubs at the connection under the table, sighing.
“So, he’s doing well with Force pushing and pulling, then?”
“Quite well. You gave him a solid base, teaching him how to meditate. He’s doing quite well at reaching out to the Force, and learning how to use it. He’s also hard to distract, which is good. I believe he told me you were thinking about integrating it into his sparring practice?”
Cody nods, and weighs the benefits of getting up to make tea versus the pain that he doesn’t want to have to deal with right now.
“It will be useful for him. Only things that the other person wouldn’t notice. The two of you can manage fighting with active use of the Force.”
Kenobi frowns.
“Yes, that might be an issue. I handed him ... an old lightsaber I had, and he recognized its previous owner and rejected it. I would like to train him with a lightsaber, but it’s hard with such a divide between him and the crystal. It takes a while to make a crystal your own.”
Cody stares at Kenobi. He should have searched his packs before allowing him to bring them into the house. A whole extra lightsaber. Of course. To be fair, Cody had no reason to believe that Kenobi could be that good at hanging onto a lightsaber.
“It might still be a problem with the previous owner, but Luke can use mine.”
Kenobi looks incredibly confused.
“When did you get a lightsaber? Is it mine?” Kenobi pauses, and then shakes his head. “I’m not sure I can use his either, Cody.”
“No, I took it off of Fifth Brother. I’ve been modifying it and practicing with it for the past seven years. I may not have the Force, but Luke at least knows it as mine.”
Kenobi is making a face, and opens his mouth. Cody cuts him off.
“It doesn’t spin anymore, and I have replaced the pommel, hilt, grip, and couple.” Cody shrugs. “Everything except the crystals, really. It was all shit.”
“... It might work, but we would have to purify the crystals first. They turn red when they’re bled. It is not a pleasant process for the crystal or the person doing the bleeding. I’m not sure if I want Luke exposed to that, and they tend to bond strongly with their new owner.”
“Then see if he can use your lightsaber, and you can use a crystal from this one.”
This is simple, and Cody doesn’t really see why Kenobi is making it so hard. It could be some traitor thing, about working with someone else’s crystal. And he’s not going to push Luke into anything that he’s uncomfortable with that isn’t necessary for his survival. But having lightsaber training would be helpful, and Cody would like to start that for Luke.
Kenobi just looks off into the distance.
Cody wonders if he has enough time to put more bacta onto his leg before the baking finishes, but he doesn’t bother to look. He’d have to explain it to Kenobi. He winces as a particularly brutal spike hits him.
(One function that the chip is helpful for - it doesn’t register pain, and so neither does CC-2224. Only levels of functionality. Cody can’t lean on that right now, though, not with Kenobi right there.)
When he looks back up, Kenobi is looking at him with concern. Kriff.
“Why don’t you get that replaced?”
“Do you know where I could find a replacement leg of beskar and durasteel? They’re not common materials.”
“The leg itself could be remade while you use a stand-in, Cody. That one is causing you pain every day. Luke and I can sense it, even if you’re ignoring it.”
Cody winces.
“Luke can sense it? I don’t even notice it, most days. I’m not ignoring it, I just don’t notice it. It doesn’t bother me.”
“Well, I’m afraid that Luke can sense it, yet, although he has learned how to block it out. It would be better if he didn’t have to, though, I’m sure you can agree.”
Cody nods automatically as he considers where he could get a new leg made without them asking any questions or blowing their cover.
“I would be happy to help, of course. And Fourdee may enjoy the challenge of attempting to determine how to separate out the beskar from the rest of the metal. And you know, of course, that Luke would be happy to design a new leg for you. And would most likely be quite capable of refining an existing design.”
“He would be able to make an entirely new one, if he had enough time.” Cody gets up as the timer dings, only to be beaten to the punch by Kenobi. “You need to turn around the pinwheels, set them for the same time, and take out the cookie sheets to let them cool.”
Kenobi follows instructions, and then decides to continue pressing the issue.
”This is Alderaan, Cody. They will definitely be able to fit you with a proper prosthetic that does not inflict pain.”
“Not going to promise it’ll be painless?”
Kenobi laughs humorlessly.
“We both know there’s no such thing. But instead of constant pain, it should only happen on bad days. Please?”
“... Fine. For Luke.”
Kenobi nods.
“For Luke.”
As Cody lurks in the background, watching Luke and his group work on some sort of debate project, he starts looking up legs. The problem with most commercially available prosthetics is that they’re weak. They wouldn’t last under a sustained assault, much less blaster fire, and he needs that. They are all substantially lighter, however, and should all fit his connection port.
He frowns. There’s a decent amount of people who have prosthetic legs, so that isn’t going to give him away. What might is anything involved in retrofitting it to be properly protective. For one thing, they would need Mandalorians in order to properly forge the beskar. A Forgemaster, hopefully, but anyone who knew the basics could make plates for the leg. He’s never going to be able to find one that would work with him and not report him to the Empire, though.
And even if he does, they would have to also consider him Mandalorian. He spent five years following Lord Vader around and he killed other Mandalorians. Lord Vader had decked him out in beskar for his armor, and he saw, he knew, that that was an abomination because for all that he had been taught he could not follow the Supercommando Codex and he did not believe in the ways of the True Mandalorians or the Death Watch.
So he was going to be shit out of luck. There was just one person left to ask. He sent an enquiry to Radio, asking if it knew of any Forgemasters that would forge for a clone, and leaned back, sighing. Radio still hadn’t found anyone capable of what Cody needed to have done.
He didn’t blame Radio. It was hard to find anyone with an expertise in matters both genetic and the brain.
“Dad!”
Cody makes an interrogative hum to let Luke know he’s listening as he compares leg models.
“Leia said we can stay over at her house if we all want to go over and watch movies and have dinner because her house has a whole theater.”
Cody blinks at him.
“Sorry, you invited the princess of Alderaan to our house, and she’s inviting you all back for movies and dinner? Is there not a security detail around?” Cody grins at Luke. He’d know if there was. “Or are they all staying so far away it would be useless?”
He knew that the princess was part of Luke’s school, but frankly he never thought that this would happen. As far as he knew, princesses and commoners didn’t interact even when they were in the same soom.
“Nah, she has a tracker and all.” Luke lowers his voice. “Like mine. I think mine is better, though.” He raises his voice again. “And it means the press has a harder time following her around ‘cause there’s not a big group of guards, and all. So can I go, please?”
Cody grins at his kid.
“Yours definitely is. Did you want to take any fruit with you?”
“No, dad.” Luke rolls his eyes. “That’s such a stupid code.”
“Sorry, kid. Part of being a dad is embarrassing your kids. You can go. Make sure everyone knows that they can take the leftovers with them, okay? And keep your comm code on, and if you want to come home, you know all the words.”
Luke nods, beaming. This is good. This is what Cody wanted, for Luke to make friends so that he could do things like sleepovers. Even if he did have to set up a code that more relied on tone of voice and actions than actual words, to always make sure Luke wanted to go.
No one really suspected that a tween being exasperated with his dad’s foibles was actually a code.
“Okay! I’m going to pack an outfit for tomorrow in my backpack. I’ll let you know before we go!” Luke beams at him. “And my earplugs, before you remind me.”
Luke bounds off, and Cody leans back in his chair to grapple with the feeling of parental ... envy? He’s not sure how to label it. He tells himself that it is ridiculous to think about making a home theatre just because Leia’s family has one.
Luke does not need a home theatre to be happy. He is not going to hollow out a house and make it into a home theatre.
He’s going to get a pool installed instead of driving Luke to the pool when he wants to swim. With a slide. And other water side entertainments. Maybe a little ride if he wants one, and a very big deep end. Cody can use that to scuba train Luke, which could be helpful for him.
So Cody’s going to build a pool, then. Fourdee will help because it’s for Luke. Maybe he can get Kenobi to help as well. The Force has to be good for lifting massive amounts of dirt out of the ground.
He waves goodbye as Luke leaves, giving him a hug, and watches them get into the groundcar and drive off. Luke knows how to escape just about any place, and has his comm, and his backup comm, and a knife, and his tracker.
This does mean that Cody is going to need to determine how to handle Bail Organa when they meet. He knew clones, so there’s no way Cody can pass himself off as a natborn. However, he could subtly threaten Organa’s position.
Or he could just send Kenobi in, and he can deal with it. That would be incredibly amusing, and Cody can deal with the consequences afterwards, in a way that will definitely not be upsetting to anyone involved. He files that plan away to workshop it, and goes to clean up after the children.
The next action he’s in control of is moving his hands off of Kenobi’s throat and onto the floor.
“Shit.” Cody wants to apologize, the apology is on the tip of his fucking tongue, but Luke isn’t here and Kenobi has always, always internalized, never needed a fucking apology for anything that happens to him. “You were using the Force. It registered as an attack.”
Kenobi is staring up at him, face beet red, and panting. Must be getting his breath back.
“Ah. No apologies necessary.” Kenobi shifts a bit before dropping back down, still quite flushed and breathing heavily. “Just cleaning up, I’m afraid. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Right. Thank you. For getting ahead on that.”
“Was that the princess of Alderaan, in the living room?” Kenobi is attempting to sound light and unconcerned. “I was unaware we were hosting royalty.”
“Yes. Apparently she’s made friends with Luke.” Cody knows he looks disgruntled because Kenobi is smiling. “Which was not what I was expecting. She’s a princess, they’re not supposed to make friends with not royalty.”
“Sorry, could you get off of me?” Kenobi looks to the side, pupils dilated and face still flushed. “We could be having this conversation a bit more comfortably.”
Cody blinks. He’s pressing one arm over Kenobi’s chest, the rest of him raised off of the floor, knees on either side of Kenobi’s waist. Now that he’s thinking about it, Cody is feeling a bit flushed, and his heart rate is a bit high. He moves to the side, standing and offering Kenobi a hand, pulling him up.
He only looks at Kenobi’s face.
“Of course, now I have to plan around Senator Organa. He will recognize me.”
“I doubt he’ll say anything, Cody. As far as he’s concerned, you’re either an agent of the Empire or your own person, and either way he will have no desire to interfere with you. Both options would only lead to trouble for his family.”
“Right.” Cody traces the lines of his tattoo, an action that he needs to train himself out of. “Better to have a plan, though. I do have a ready-made hostage, however.”
Kenobi’s stopped wincing quite so much around Cody, but he does again now.
“Me, I suppose. I truly don’t think that things will come to that.”
“Before any problems start, I’m planning to build a pool.”
Kenobi raises an eyebrow.
“A pool.”
“Yes. Luke enjoys swimming, and while driving him to the community pool is efficient enough, with a custom-made one I would be able to give him scuba lessons. Perhaps design some underwater training. Although parts of it would have to be blocked off, if he wanted to invite friends over to swim.”
Kenobi smiles widely, leaning in a bit..
“You’re jealous that Luke wanted to go to Leia’s house.”
“Luke is ready for different training, and does better when I can frame it in a way that he enjoys. And while I’ve been lucky that he enjoys being active, it’s good to also give him a treat as well.”
“A whole pool, though? Come now, Commander.”
Kenobi is still smiling. He’s looking indulgent, like he used to when Cody was proposing something that was tactically sound but mostly chosen because he thought it would be fun, or giving the okay for Cody to jump into battle, and Cody is hit with the realization that he’s smiling back. He tucks it away.
“He’ll enjoy it, and I have the money. If you want to feel better, it’s all from the Emperor.”
“Is that money tracked?” Kenobi’s worry lines have returned, creased deeply. “Cody, has he known the whole time where you are?”
“Hah. No. Please, I’m better than that. It’s an automatic deposit from his personal account, which is already designed to be impossible to audit or trace, into a separate account for Luke. Only Radio and I have access to that account, and Radio is consistently updating the encryption and ensuring that no one is tracking the expenditures from it.”
“... Cody, how much money do you have?”
Cody tilts his head to the side and considers.
“Less than a hundred million. More than ten million. We like to keep a buffer in case I have to go salted earth on a set of identities.”
“... Have you had to do that?”
“Thankfully, no. I suppose that the Emperor doesn’t care much, and so there aren't any resources available for his sperm donor.”
Cody considers the caf machine. If Luke isn’t going to be home, he doesn’t need to set a good example about not drinking any past one. But he can sense that Kenobi will make fun of him.
“... He has been searching. I ran into him. Although I haven’t heard of him or from him since.”
“Hm. I’ll ask a contact about him.” Radio will be keeping up with the dramatic gossip in the Empire and the Rebellion. “Assuming you don’t have any contacts? Besides whoever you’re calling every Sunday.”
Kenobi’s face doesn’t change at all, which is how Cody knows that he’s panicking.
“Just keeping up with a book club, Cody. Nothing exciting.”
Cody yearns for a mug of caf to sip dramatically with a raised eyebrow. But he is used to working with priviation, and raises an eyebrow anyways.
“You set up blockers so that no one can hear inside and lock the doors and windows for a book club meeting?” He decides it’s not worth bringing up the bugs that just passively record. Kenobi would just destroy them. “That’s a very high security book club.”
“It’s- an erotic book club, and I want to make sure that Luke doesn’t overhear anything.”
Cody snorts, and then seriously considers the possibility for a moment before beginning to just full on laugh, until he shifts his weight and a sharp stab hits him and he crumples.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
Kenobi’s hands settle on Cody’s shoulders softly.
“Let me get you painkillers, Cody. And I’ll handle cooking tonight, alright?”
“The only thing you know how to make is tiingilar-”
Cody breaks into a coughing fit as the chip surges back to the front, strangling the word before it can leave, he can’t speak another language, not in front of his-
CC-2224 locks up again. This man is not a General, he is a traitor, and thus code that prevents his understanding would be acceptable. But it’s a language that he understands and CC-2224’s Imperial superiors would not, and so he can’t use it, even if they’re not present, the chip would wipe out the language it could, if Cody wasn’t holding onto it tooth and nail, tightening his grasp on the only culture that he was ever given a chance to take for his own.
He’s fine.
He will be fine.
Someone is holding him.
Notes:
please know i choose my song lyrics with purpose. and then consider
And did you know the liberty bell is a replica
Silently housed in its original walls
And while its dreams played music in the night
Quietly
It was told to believe
Chapter 8: there's no need to be brave
Summary:
Obi-Wan has always done his best coping when no one else is. He does his best now, attempting to take care of Cody, and steadfastly ignoring the part of his brain that wants anything else.
Notes:
heres where you find out my canon that jedi can purr. gay rights. clones can also purr, if they've been near jedi long enough. unethical science rights?
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Cody is clutching painfully at Obi-Wan, but he can’t find it in himself to move him away, after what just happened. Obi-Wan awkwardly pats his back. He attempts to shift, but is just pulled closer. There’s no way Obi-Wan can pick Cody up without Force assistance, and whatever conflict just occurred to make Cody cling to him like this would most likely not be helped by Obi-Wan using the Force.
He’d make tiingilar, but given Cody had started acting like he was being choked after saying that, that might not be good either. But he has to do something. He’s spent too long doing nothing for worry of overriding what Cody would want, desperately attempting to give him some sense of free will. Whatever he has managed to scrape out for himself. Obi-Wan cannot take that away from him. But now he’s hurting, and Obi-Wan cannot let that stand. So he reaches out to Cody’s mind, and flinches back from what he finds, a desperate tangle of bruises and vibroknife wounds scrawling blood over Cody and his- well. Restraining bolt does seem like an appropriate term, spitting venom and scratching with fingers like sabers and knives.
Obi-Wan knows that this is the Force showing him something that he can understand, and that Cody is not actually laying bleeding on the ground in front of him, covered in scars and open wounds, bruises and infections.
He knows that there isn’t a second Cody being thrown off of the first Cody and driven into the ground. But it looks like Cody is fighting himself to the death, and Obi-Wan panics and presses a hand to the side of Cody’s head in physical space and whispers sleep, imbuing it as a command in the Force, and both Codys turn to look at him, and before the command takes hold, one set of eyes turns hopeful, and another turns murderous..
Cody slumps against him, and the vision fades as the chip leaps towards Obi-Wan, hands outstretched.
Now Obi-Wan is trapped on the floor with Cody. Maybe this wasn’t his best idea.
“Oh dear,” he whispers.
He’s known that Cody is fighting the chip, in his own way. When he’s with Luke, and hasn’t realized Obi-Wan is there, yet, he’s been most like himself. So like himself that Obi-Wan is sure that that is Cody, not just the chip, and he could feel Cody from the very first struggling against his own brain, but he had thought that Cody had won, not that it was a constant fight.
He hadn’t realized how visceral it was.
Obi-Wan hears a drill start up and raises his hands.
“I just put him to sleep, I’m not planning to escape and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Oh, no, I saw, he just refuses to submit to medical attention at any other time.” Fourdee moves out from behind Obi-Wan and picks up Cody. “He hasn’t had a lock-up like this in ages. There’s going to be so much to do.” The droid’s voice sounds dreamy. “It was getting boring, anyways. Good timing.”
Obi-Wan cautiously picks himself up and follows behind Fourdee. He knows that he’s visible, so Fourdee must not care.
“Sorry, a lock-up?”
“The chip and the human conflicting. He could be a very interesting case study, but he threatened to pull one of my arms off if I tried to scan his brain all the time. Even though I made what I think was a quite discreet scanner. So I have to wait for one of these instances to get any proper work done.”
“And you can’t deactivate it?” Obi-Wan is aware that his voice is horrified. He had hoped that somehow, maybe through Luke, he could have had Fourdee remove the chip, but if this is the case, then everything is-
“Oh, I could remove it. But that’s not nearly as interesting.” Fourdee flicks one eye shutter closed at Obi-Wan in what he has to assume is a wink. “Maybe in a few years, when I complete my study, so that I can study how he heals. Although his other theory is very interesting as well.”
Obi-Wan feels the Force around him, and asks anyways.
“What other theory?”
“That the orders were also implanted genetically, in some manner. Very interesting!” Fourdee literally brightens up. “I haven’t found any proof of that, but I suppose it’s a possibility!”
“Sorry, what?”
“Genetic! We already know that they made some genetic alterations to increase docility and aggression, although I question how much those actually help. There’s some evidence of it, namely in increasing the production of some hormones and dampening others, but that’s merely tendencies and can be overwritten. So it’s all very interesting, but I’m afraid that I don’t have much in terms of proof. However, he worries, and the chip, of course, is designed to avoid removal.”
“So it makes him add conditions.”
“Exactly. So he has to worry about a possible self-destruct mechanism if the chip is removed, or that the orders are somehow encoded genetically, or any number of things. I believe he keeps a notebook.”
“Ah.” Obi-Wan feels nauseated all over again. There’s so much that he intellectually knew about the troopers, but was never able to truly investigate or process, because they were at war, and there was no time for that. No time for anything except fighting, even when he’d heard about that one trooper who had shot a Jedi, and another who had had some conspiracy. Anakin and the Guard had handled it, he had thought. “So you won’t remove the chip, then.”
“No, although I do have standing orders that if it begins to malfunction in a way that would negatively impact Luke, I am to take it out and then monitor him for possible side effects, being prepared to re-implant it.”
Obi-Wan gestures at Cody, still asleep, in disbelief.
“And that’s not a negative impact? Whatever this is?”
“Luke’s not around to see it, is he?” Fourdee shrugs, jostling Cody. “No negative impact. As long as he keeps on doing this out of Luke’s sight, there’s nothing to impact Luke.”
Obi-Wan briefly entertains the idea of forcing one, somehow, in front of Luke. But that’s not right, really. He can’t use Luke as a set piece in a drama that he shouldn’t have to know anything about.
“How- how do they happen? How can I avoid them?”
Fourdee glances back at Obi-Wan, just for show, he’s sure, as the two of them enter Fourdee’s room. Cody is promptly deposited on a table, and Fourdee begins to wire him with the soft pads of medical equipment.
“In this instance? All clone troopers were ordered to only speak Galactic Standard Basic. Any other language would be construed to be a code, and appropriately punished. The chip takes that into its own hands, of course.”
Obi-Wan covers his mouth, and Fourdee helpfully provides a waste receptacle. When he’s done, Fourdee takes it back. Presumably to analyze. Obi-Wan doesn’t care.
“Could I have some of your blood?”
“... What will you give me for it?”
Fourdee, unlike many droids, possesses a Force presence. Obi-Wan latches onto that now, doing his best to read Fourdee’s emotions and determine truth. It’s not foolproof, but it should help.
“I suppose I could owe you a favor.”
Obi-Wan shakes his head.
“Too vague. Get more concrete, Fourdee. You must have heard negotiations in your time, I’m sure you can come up with something I might want.”
Fourdee’s Force presence sharpens, focusing on Obi-Wan.
“Your blood isn’t worth removing his chip, Jedi.”
Obi-Wan leans back against the wall with a smile.
“I’m quite aware of that. I think it could be worth filling me in on what to avoid though, hm? And perhaps a bit more.”
“Elaborate. What, exactly, do you want to know?”
“How to avoid triggering the chip. Exactly how much free will Cody has, in there.” Obi-Wan hesitates, thinking about after his medscan. When Cody had, somehow, pushed far enough past the programming to cuddle him. “In regards to me, and Luke. His actions.”
“Idiot. Still, if you want to trade your blood for something that obvious, I suppose I can accept that.”
“Not just that, no, Fourdee. I did say and a bit more.”
Obi-Wan knows that no EMP could work against a biological chip. He and Cody had been hit with enough of them in the war that if that would work, they’d never have had this problem. But all the same, everything has a weakness, and if anyone Obi-Wan has access to would know about that, it will be Fourdee.
“You might as well spit it out. It’s not like you could overcome him in a fair fight, and so nothing I tell you can undermine him.”
“The bit more... the biochip has to have a weakness. He’s fighting it. How can I help?”
“You can’t, really.” Fourdee pulls out medical implements, and continues to check over Cody. It almost feels like when Cody had been dragged into medbay. “The weakness comes from its rather literal interpretations. The best you can do is make things easy.” Fourdee flips a tool and begins to apply some sort of lotion to Cody’s skin. “Which you must have been doing, given that I saw the two of you cuddling.”
Obi-Wan flushes.
“I didn’t ask for that. I was barely involved.”
“Then it was something he wanted.”
Obi-Wan is aware that he is handing Fourdee too much ammunition as he blushes deeper. He can’t imagine, after everything, that - but maybe- he shoves his thoughts down.
“Well. So make it easier for him to trust me, then.” Obi-Wan sighs. He doesn’t know what else he can do, on that front. “You can take one vial of blood. Walk me through how to avoid triggering Cody.”
Obi-Wan doesn’t wince when Fourdee takes his blood. He’s made worse trades, he’s sure, and this will help Cody.
“His primary directive is to take care of Luke. Physically, emotionally, and mentally. You are, of course, aware of that?”
“I was told, although not in those words. But even so, he has to listen to Sidious.” Obi-Wan looks at the wall instead of Fourdee or Cody. “I’m sure that one day my usefulness will be up and he’ll be forced to turn me in.”
“Unlikely. Luke will be attached to you by then, and it would hurt him if Cody turned you in.” Fourdee pauses in whatever he is doing. “To give you an idea of the extent that he has managed to subvert the chip, he plans to assassinate Sidious when Luke turns eighteen.”
“What?” Obi-Wan is aware that he sounds shocked and delighted and he does not care. “Not that I’m complaining, but how does that make sense? He’s the leader, the ones that the chips key to, is he not?”
“He is. He’s also a threat to Luke’s wellbeing. Therefore, Cody has decided that he does not have to listen to any order from him that would override that order, and in fact should prevent Palpatine from ever getting within a planet’s distance of Luke.”
Fourdee sighs as he looks at Obi-Wan. He can’t imagine what Fourdee is seeing on his face as the Force sings truth around him at those statements.
“He always was talented,” Obi-Wan murmurs. “I suppose I didn’t want to let myself hope.”
Fourdee holds up a hand to gesture for him to stop.
“I don’t care about your emotions. The point is that as long as you phrase whatever you’re doing in terms of how it will help Luke and it is slightly plausible, Cody is unlikely to be forced into action against you.”
“... Good. Thank you.”
“This was a trade. I am not your friend.” Fourdee pauses, and considers. “Unless you want to give me more blood.”
“No.” Obi-Wan stands up. “I’m going to go cook. Please reassure Cody that I have not left when he wakes up.”
“Perhaps. If the scent of cooking doesn’t do it.”
Obi-Wan sighs. If Fourdee wants to be standoffish, he can’t stop him. What he can do is attempt to be reassuring when Cody wakes up. Hopefully the chip will recognize that this would, frankly, have been an excellent time to escape.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. He can’t tell Bail about this. He’ll get yelled at for not escaping, and even pointing out that Leia has been in this house won’t get him out of trouble. At least he has a few days before Sunday, when he will have to explain that.
Obi-Wan remembers that he had looked Cody in the eyes and told him that his weekly call with Bail was an erotic book club, and decides that he doesn’t have to remember that actually, because then he will also remember being pinned to the floor by Cody, and now he’s thinking about that and he is going to die here just because Cody and his chip will realize that Obi-Wan has wanted to kiss him for ages and Obi-Wan boxes up that line of thought and tosses it into the garbage heap at the back of his mind.
He pulls out the fact that he should be able to talk to Luke, who’s old enough to be a padawan, and certainly old enough to be involved in a plan that involves his father, and leaves his mind to consider a plan as he begins to cook.
“Right. Mandalorian casserole.” He flips open cupboards and starts pulling everything down. “I can handle this. I remember the recipe.”
He stares at the pile of ingredients in front of him.
“I do not remember the recipe.”
Ten different holonet searches later and eventually just operating on muscle memory, Obi-Wan has managed, he thinks. At least it smells right, in that just taking a whiff is enough to make his nose burn slightly. Maybe he should have made bread as well, but it’s too late for that. It’s too late for a lot of things.
He opens the freezer. There’s bread. It’s possible that his inner monologue has become overly dramatic, with no one around to make fun of him for it. He starts a few slices warming in the toaster oven, and wonders if it would be received well if he made Cody a drink. He had liked it when Obi-Wan made him a drink that one time, when the two of them were bogged down in a storm.
“Well, it’s pouring out there, boss.” Cody closed the flap of the tent and turned back around. “You’re out of luck.”
Obi-Wan sighed dramatically.
“Whatever shall I do?” Cody snorted, and Obi-Wan shot him a reproving glance. “Tent broken in combat, no choice other than to go sleep in the rain in order to set an example to my troops.”
“Definitely not. I don’t know what the example would be, but it would involve not going to the medical bay and martyring yourself, and I think they see enough of that, General. Try again.”
Cody scribbled his signature on some documents as Obi-Wan pouted at him, and pointedly ignored what was some excellent pouting, if he did say so himself.
“I think it would make for a magnificent story. General sleeps in rain to avoid imposing on his troops and then goes on to win a battle? It’ll feed the holovids for weeks and you know it, Commander.”
“Di’kut,” Cody muttered under his breath, quiet enough that Obi-Wan knows he wasn’t supposed to have heard it. “I suppose General agrees to sleep in the command tent on a spare medical cot doesn’t have the same ring to it, no. But I don’t think we want to see General comes down with pneumonia and collapses during battle hit the holovids again, hm?”
Obi-Wan sighed, and leaned back in his chair. He crossed his arms, and looked at Cody, remembering Anakin’s ill-fated battle.
“Ah, Anakin. I wouldn’t succumb that quickly, I promise. I’m a bit better than that.”
“Not denying that you’re going to get ill, are you?”
“Well, I do try not to lie to my friends, Cody.”
Cody snorted, before setting aside the pad.
“No, that’s when you’re diplomatic, right, General?”
“Perhaps.” Obi-Wan stroked his beard. “I prefer to call it removing unnecessary worry. From a certain point of view, I’m doing everyone a favor.”
Cody didn’t bother to call Obi-Wan on his shit any more out loud, but he raised an eyebrow, in the particular language of facial expressions that the two of them had. This one, paired with his expression, meant sir, you and I both know that’s banthashit, and Obi-Wan didn’t bother wasting further time with denial. He felt the shivers coming on from being drenched, and it would be pointless.
“Do you want a drink, Commander? Something to help with circulation before we sleep?”
“Do you even have alcohol in this tent, General?”
Obi-Wan grinned at Cody, and went to the projection table, where he slid out a drawer, pulling out some basic alcohols and mixers.
“Of course I do. You never know when a social situation needs a bit of lubrication. And I think I have just the drink for tonight.”
Cody blinked at him, and sat down at the other side of the table.
“Do tell.”
Obi-Wan got out the lime juice, ginger beer, and rum, and started to mix.
“No ice, but we’re not aiming to get colder, so. This, my dear Commander, is called a dark and stormy.”
Cody laughed, a sound that Obi-Wan always savoured from his normally serious Commander.
“That’s a bit on the nose, isn’t it?”
“Well, I don’t exactly have a lot of options here.” Obi-Wan handed over the glass, and took out a second one for himself. “Tell me if you like it?”
Cody sipped it carefully, and Obi-Wan relished the look of pleasure that came over his face as he took another drink.
“It’s quite nice. Although I do question the respectability of carrying around alcohol as campaign supplies.” Cody paused. “Is this where you got the drinks that got the whole diplomatic party wasted, last planet?”
“How was I supposed to know that they were more affected by alcohol?” A particularly cold breeze rattled the tent and slipped in around the corners, which caught Obi-Wan’s still wet robes. “Ah.” He shivered. “Better get on my own and heading to sleep, then.”
He carefully drank from his glass, careful to keep shivers suppressed, and watched Cody do the same, although he sent many concerned glances Obi-Wan’s way. When he finally finished his drink, Cody set the glass down and pulled out the medical cot.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got a spare blanket with the cot, Commander?”
Cody shrugged, and started rummaging for a theoretical spare blanket.
“Probably, General, although if you’re admitting to being cold I’m a bit worried that what you need is a thermal pack.”
Lightning hit outside, and Obi-Wan instinctively covered his ears. He flinched, slightly, as his own cold fingers pressed against his head.
“The tents are rated for lightning strikes, yes?”
“... Yes, assuming they’re properly set up.” Cody looked hesitant. “Before then, they’re more conductive than anything else.”
Lightning struck again, only slightly further away. Obi-Wan still felt it in his bones as the tent rattled.
“Is your tent already set up?”
“No, boss. But I’ll be fine. They don’t take that long.”
Lightning struck three times in quick succession, still close, and Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.
“I think we might both be stuck here now, Commander. I don’t suppose you have a spare spare cot?”
“I’m afraid not, no. We can sleep in shifts. I only need four hours, so you should be able to get a full night’s sleep.”
“Absolutely not, Cody. You know I don’t agree with their standards of care.” Obi-Wan doesn’t airquote the words or spit them, but he had talked about this often enough that Cody raised an eyebrow at him in a different intonation, that of we both know you can’t change this order, boss. Obi-Wan shifted in his chair.
“Sir. I’ll be fine. All due respect,” and Obi-Wan knew that at this moment it was none, “you are already sleep deprived, and I’m unsure when the last time you ate something even was.”
“This morning. Helix forced a ration bar on me before battle, and said that if I didn’t eat it he was going to call Kix.” Cody shuddered, and Obi-Wan quite agreed with him. “Yes, so. I’ve eaten.”
“Eat another ration bar. You’ll need your energy, especially in the coming days of this campaign. Besides, you know that just one while it might be nutritionally complete isn’t enough, especially during battle. You jetii are the ones that made three meals a day happen. Do it for yourself, as well.”
Obi-Wan’s past self has outmaneuvered his current self. That never felt quite right, but it did happen, and Obi-Wan just had to deal with it. So he did, standing up and moving to open up the cot.
“Get food for yourself as well, and I’ll get this set up.”
“Boss?” Cody sounded confused. “What’s the plan?”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but in these robes I can feel the temperature dropping. And I don’t believe these are the thermal tents.”
“They’re not.” Cody grimaced. “This planet was supposed to be temperate, and this was supposed to be the warm season. And the thermal tents are expensive.”
“Right. I don’t know about you, but I would rather not freeze, and I am afraid it may come to that. That, and the fact that we’re in the middle of camp, Cody. We don’t need to stand watch, so running shifts doesn’t make much sense.”
“General.” Cody’s voice was infused with amusement. “Are you trying to suggest we cuddle for warmth and for a full night’s sleep?”
“If you have any better suggestions, I am of course open to them, as always.” Obi-Wan smiled at Cody while he finished unfolding the cot, and pinched his fingers for his trouble.
Cody stayed quiet and helped Obi-Wan finish setting up the cot. They were barely big enough for one, so two would be a stretch, but Obi-Wan already felt more shivers set in, and he didn’t imagine that Cody would be much better once he stopped moving.
Cody paused Obi-Wan before he got into bed.
“Boss,” and his tone was so warm, Obi-Wan could almost have felt it in the air, “you can’t sleep in wet robes, you will freeze yourself, even with me.”
He reached out and started to gently pull Obi-Wan’s robe off, and Obi-Wan was a Jedi, but he was also human, and flushed as he helped with the action. He couldn’t think of anything to say, to this action. So instead he focused on how considerate Cody was being, even as they both got into the cot.
Obi-Wan focused very hard on how this was necessary for survival. Cody needed sleep, and Obi-Wan needed warmth. There was no other reason in his mind as he pressed against Cody’s warmth and started to purr. Cody stacked his armor around them so that as long as they didn’t move too much, they would have some warmth retained.
“Very smart, Commander,” Obi-Wan murmured sleepily, his voice slightly harder to understand because of the purring. “You always are.”
Cody finished stacking his armor, and wrapped his arms against Obi-Wan, which pulled him flush against Cody’s front. Obi-Wan wondered if the clones had a higher body temperature, or if how warm Cody was was just a sign that he did need this.
“I’m not losing you to pneumonia, boss.” Cody’s voice was so soft that Obi-Wan barely heard him. “Or sleep deprivation, or anything else.” He sighed. “And if you’re asking, it has to be bad.”
“M’not that bad, Commander.” Obi-Wan yawned. “And I’m also worried about you. I’m not going to lose you,” he whispered. “Want all of you to make it through this.” He knew he wouldn’t manage that, but it was possible he would be able to keep Cody alive. Smart, clever Cody, kind Cody. Glorious Cody.
Obi-Wan dropped off to sleep to a murmur that he barely heard as he realized that they had both forgotten about food.
“I won’t lose you either, alor’ika.”
Obi-Wan stirs the tiingilar, sips his drink, and hopes that Cody still likes it. Although it’s possible he won’t be able to process that. Maybe he will just hurt Cody again. Obi-Wan pauses and breathes, releasing his anxiety to the Force. Which is going to come back to bite him one day, when the Force makes him process all at once, but maybe by then he'll have even bigger things to worry about. Now, there is not much that he can do, but try, and do.
Cody’s glass is on the table, and Obi-Wan hears the ice clink as Cody picks it up.
“There’s no storm on the weather radar. Or the personal one.” Obi-Wan hears Cody take a sip. “Just felt like a drink?”
Obi-Wan shrugs. If he doesn’t turn around, he can pretend that everything is normal.
“An apology, I suppose. Along with the food. Mandalorian stew, with the additions you like.” The amount of spice in the dish is making Obi-Wan’s nose burn already, just from smelling it. “I’ll do my best to avoid causing another incident. I know that it would upset Luke.”
“They would. It’s easier to talk about certain things, with him. Although I can’t talk about a lot with him as well.”
Obi-Wan carefully takes bowls down from the cupboard with his hands despite the fact that it would be so simple with the Force.
“If there’s ever anything you want to talk about that you couldn’t tell Luke, I can be the soul of discretion, as you know. Not a word, even to my book club.” Obi-Wan starts ladelling out the soup, hoping that the slight flush on his face could be attributed to the spice, and not embarrassment.
“... Right. Fourdee says your cortisol is creeping up again.”
“Well, when have I not been stressed?” Obi-Wan turns with the bowls, and sees Cody making the exact same face he’s always made when Obi-Wan is making light of something that worries him. “Oh, Cody. I’m doing quite well, I promise. You’re a much more humane guard than any I’ve had before.”
He slides over Cody’s bowl at the same time as Cody flinches slightly.
“It’s a good thing, I promise,” he continues. “Quite comforting, in many ways. Do you want a large or normal spoon?”
“Large, please. I see you’ve finally forgotten the names of all the pieces of cutlery.”
“If I say soup soon or salad spoon, I assume that you would make fun of me.” Obi-Wan nabs two spoons and sets one in front of Cody, before sniffing the air and realizing that he has made a mistake.
Cody lunges for the fire alarm and Obi-Wan lunges for the toaster oven, yanking the bread out with the Force and slapping the pieces on the counter before frantically waving his hands over the smoking pieces of fairly burnt bread.
“I think you shouldn’t be allowed to cook without supervision anymore. How often did you get takeout while hunting us down?”
Obi-Wan blushes as he turns off the oven. Regrettably, he thinks that’s definitely an answer for Cody, and given Cody’s grin, it definitely is. He attempts to derail any attempt on Cody’s part to make fun of him by shoving a piece of bread into his mouth.
“It’s still perfectly edible. Much more so than mess hall food, yes?”
“That’s hardly a reasonable comparison,” Cody says, taking the bread out of his mouth. “That food was practically a Seperatist attack by itself. Literally, one time.”
“Regrettable that no one noticed until they tried to claim credit, hm?” Obi-Wan smiles at Cody. “I’m sure you’ve already taught Luke to bring the important spices with him.”
“Oh, he already knew that. Although he also kept on asking for blue milk, the first year or so, and I just did not know where to get that.”
“It’s really only a Tatooine delicacy, honestly. The rest of the galaxy tends towards the more common green.”
“I ended up just getting him oat milk and dying it blue. It worked, and he didn’t realize until a few years ago that it was just plain oat milk.”
Obi-Wan laughs, bending over the table and having to sit down, thinking about Luke’s face.
“Ah, poor Luke. Well. I see that he forgave you eventually. Any other deep secrets I should help keep from him?”
Cody snorts.
“No.” He pauses. “But there is something about him that you may be able to help with. I did not notice that his father dealt with it, so I assume that you were able to ... resolve the problem.”
Obiwan settles in to look at Cody, quickly letting solemnity overtake him. He doesn’t know what problem Luke could be having, but he is more than happy to help resolve it. Luke will have to deal with enough problems.
“... When he panics, or similar, any large loss of control, he’ll sort of... melt?” Cody grimaces and shakes his head, rephrasing. “Become something that doesn’t look human. A mass of multi-colored light that can’t talk, just express emotion directly. I’ve been able to calm him down, so far, and then he returns to looking human, but I haven’t been able to stop it directly. Fourdee says it’s something called Oneness?”
“Mm.” Obi-Wan sips at his stew. “I was unable to find a name for it in the Archives, which leads me to believe that it’s considered a forbidden technique, but I can give Luke the same advice I gave to. To his sperm donor. Ah- you’ll want to avoid Force suppressants.”
“We hadn’t tried them. Fourdee suggested attachments as a method, and I was already teaching Luke it was okay to care about people as long as he knew how to let them go when we had to move.”
Obi-Wan hums in thought. That might have worked much better, if only he had known to suggest it. Anakin had never been able to properly explain what he felt in that state.
“That makes sense. I used grounding techniques, and also had him spend some time shifting between the two forms, when he was young, to get used to those.”
“Luke associates it with bad events in his life, now,” Cody says softly. Obi-Wan has the strain to hear him. “I don’t think he’s ever done it willingly. Even for Fourdee, after some excellent donuts as a bribe.”
“Well, I’ll see what I can do. I have a lot of experience getting Skywalkers to learn things that they’re not quite interested in. But for now, he’s on a sleepover, and we can enjoy our stew and drinks and brainstorm, yes? Maybe even watch a movie.”
“Sounds good to me. You can pick the movie.” Cody smiles tentatively at him. “Since you didn’t try to escape.”
“It’s a deal, then.”
Notes:
obiwan is a dramatic bitch and the inside of his own head plays continuous carnival music and he sure would like it to stop
Chapter 9: we've only got so many tricks
Summary:
It’s easier to settle into a domestic equilibrium when both parties have a full understanding of what’s happening.
Chapter Text
Cody wakes up with a crick in his neck. He’s sleeping on the couch, with his head on... not Fourdee’s shoulder. Fourdee doesn’t breathe, and the shoulder is vibrating with a soft purr. Luke’s at a sleepover. So this must be Kenobi, that his head is resting on. Kenobi, who could have left and had his cuffs removed. Who could have left Cody locked up on the floor, his own mind trapping him, and run.
Kenobi never could have run. Cody knows that. Cody knows Kenobi. He lifts up his head, and stretches. Whatever Fourdee did to his leg yesterday, it helped. The pain is dull again.
“Awake, Cody?”
Cody blinks sleepily at Kenobi.
“Arguably. You didn’t go to bed?”
“No, I’m afraid my shoulder was being used.” Cody can practically hear Kenobi considering if he should ask something. “Why did you decide to live on Alderaan?”
Cody shrugs.
“It’s a safe planet. Even if something happened to me, I would be able to be certain that Luke would be kept safe and sound. I gave him some of your old contacts.”
“You remembered my old contacts?” Kenobi sounds delighted, and Cody does not have enough energy to manage a glare. He wants to be leaning on his shoulder again. It was comfortable. “Well. I’m glad that you didn’t have to use them. That wouldn’t’ve been all that healthy for Luke.”
“No, it wouldn’t’ve been, but at least he would have been safe. That’s more important.”
Kenobi looks at him, and Cody hates the way he’s being looked at. He’s not fragile, he doesn’t need pity, and he doesn’t need anything else, either. He has made himself self-sufficient.
It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want.
Cody gets up and heads over to the caf machine, sighing. He can’t handle this right now. He can’t handle Kenobi right now, for all that he should be able to. He was made to handle anything, to keep on going, right until he dropped. And he hasn’t dropped yet.
The beans are missing.
“... Kenobi. Where’s the caf?”
“I’m sure I don’t know, Cody, you know that given the choice I only drink tea.” Kenobi comes up behind him to rummage in his drawer. “And I’ve told you for years to call me Obi-Wan.”
“Not going to start now.” He can’t start now. There’s too much that might happen even inside his own brain if he does. “Where’s the kriffing caf? Fourdee! I know we weren’t out of caf, did you take it to use?”
Cody hears the whirr thump of Fourdee enter the kitchen.
“I had Luke take it with him to dispose of it. You’ve been drinking pure decaf for the past few days, so the detox should be complete.”
Cody’s hand drops to where his blaster would be, and he pulls it back up to rest on the counter with reluctance.
“Then where is the decaf, Fourdee?”
“I used it for the composting to keep down the smell, since you shouldn’t need it anymore.”
Cody feels his eye twitch.
“Fourdee, there is also the psychological dependence on the act,” Kenobi cuts in. “While I respect your desire to keep Cody from an early grave, and I share it, it’s best to consider the... how to put this.”
Cody starts rummaging through Kenobi’s cabinet for the highest caffeine tea. He has caffeine pills. It’ll be fine. He can make his own fake coffee. He makes a quiet happy noise when he sees that Kenobi has apparently purchased the expensive matcha, and starts preparation.
“Cody, that’s my matcha.” Kenobi sounds sad. “I bought that. With my own money.“
“Idiot move. Just use my credit chip.”
“You haven’t given me a copy.”
Cody pauses in the middle of turning on the kettle.
“Oh. No, I didn’t. Remind me and I’ll do it tomorrow. Not full access, obviously, but I can give you a stipend.”
“Oh, you’re going to put me on an allowance,” Kenobi teases. “Just like when you had to sign every requisition form, hm?”
“I don’t want to look at a list of what you’ve purchased, no. Just don’t spend too much. Which will be a hard bar to clear.”
Kenobi is smiling at him, and Cody wants what he can’t have.
“Alright, then.”
Cody realizes that he has made a tactical mistake at the same time as Fourdee dumps rotten coffee beans onto his and Kenobi’s heads. Fourdee should never be ignored.
“Here are the coffee beans. Tell me what I missed.”
“Ah. Right. It’s best to consider that the ritual of the action is important as well. I used to meditate with a tea ceremony that my old Master taught me. I didn’t enjoy it after he died, but the ritual of action can help soothe a mine. The ritual of creation, of tasting, all of it.”
“I see. I will go purchase more beans, Cody. I apologize for a poorly thought-out experiment. Enjoy cleaning up the kitchen.”
Fourdee walks off, leaving Cody and Kenobi to stare at each other with beans on their heads. Cody starts laughing first.
“We shouldn’t’ve ignored him.”
“No, I am getting the feeling that that was a mistake. One I will make sure to avoid in the future, if necessary. I can clean the two of us, Cody. Do you need me to not use the Force?”
The smell of the coffee beans and rot tickles Cody’s nostrils, and he grimaces.
“If it will get the smell off of us faster, then you can. It smells disgusting.”
Cody tingles as the Force surrounds him, warm and heated like it has been and was always. The last time he felt it he’d asked Kenobi to throw him and a squad at the enemy to take them by surprise, and it had worked. This time it just surrounds him for a moment before the compost swirls off into the distance.
Cody sniffs the air tentatively, and smiles.
“Impressive. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Cody. When is Luke supposed to get back?”
“Not until this evening. Plenty of time for me to go out and get as many coffee beans as possible.” Cody pauses, wondering if he should bother to ask. “Leia Organa looks familiar.”
Kenobi’s face changes, small lines smoothing out as he starts to consciously control his expression, slipping into the calm Negotiator facade, and that’s how Cody knows that he’s right. One more kid to keep an eye out for, although it looks like Bail Organa has done well enough so far. That just means Cody’s right to have him as a backup for Luke, and that he is, regrettably, going to have to contact Radio to see if their covers are as watertight as they need to be for Luke to be interacting with a damned princess. A princess, of all things, and that had to be Kenobi’s idea.
“Come with me to get caf?” Kenobi still hasn’t spoken, so Cody has to be the one to offer the olive branch. “There has to be some tea out there that you would enjoy. And not have to make yourself.”
“Oh, alright.” Kenobi relaxes again. “Fourdee’s just going to replace them anyways. Show me your drink spots.”
Cody smiles at him, bright and open.
“Come on, then. The speeder needs to get used anyways.”
“And if I wanted to go on a hike, afterwards, would you indulge me? It’s hard to do much of one with the bracelets, and all.”
“Ah, yes.” Cody remembers that Kenobi liked to take in local nature when he could, on whatever planet they were on. Moons, if it had been a while. “You could join me on my morning runs, perhaps?” He reaches out and pokes Kenobi’s arm as they walk towards the speeder. “Stay active. Never know when we might have to run.”
“I’ve been maintaining my health, thank you very much Cody.” Kenobi sounds offended as he gets into the speeder. “I don’t know why you’d think that-”
Cody closes the door behind him. He’s seen what Kenobi considers self-care. He’ll add Kenobi into his workout regime. It’ll be nice to have another adult with him. Luke just cannot be expected to keep the same standards that Cody has for himself.
“Honestly, Cody, I promise, I happen to be quite capable still. I’ve been doing my katas, just in my room.”
“Mmhm.”
Kenobi continues to rattle on, just like the old days, and Cody cannot find it in himself to be anything but appreciative as he drives them to the nearest boutique coffee and tea store.
He feels comfortable, in a way that he hasn’t in a very long time.
“Alright, Luke, now just lift.” Kenobi smiles at him. “You will notice, there’s a bit of a difference lifting something living.”
Cody feels himself float up into the air, and mentally sighs.
“I don’t see why you couldn't use Fourdee for practice, first. You know he’d love hearing about how he’s got a Force presence, or whatever.”
“He already knows, Dad,” Luke tells him. Luke raises his hands again, and Cody feels himself lift higher. “He had me use him to practice finding lies already. And emotions, since he’s really good at hiding them. But he’s not that much different in terms of lifting.”
“We think it has something to do with how the Force interacts with him. It clearly recognizes Fourdee as a sentient being, and most droids it comes to recognize, but. Well, this could have been a whole thesis topic, before the war.”
Cody tilts his head to the side to look at Obi-Wan. At Kenobi.
“Got any ideas about it, then? Not much to do while I’m floating.”
The exercise is just to see how long Luke can hold him up, so Cody expects to be staying there a while. Luckily, unlike others, he had never minded being floated or thrown by the traitors. It was just another tactic. He might even fall asleep, if this goes on long enough.
“I think it’s because of the personality matrices!” Luke pipes up, and then goes on at Cody’s nod. “If you reset your droid memory over and over like people are told to do, then they don’t build anything up, and they don’t get to a level of complexity that the Force recognizes!”
“Sure.” Cody stares into the sky. He doesn’t know enough about this. He only knows field mechanics, still, just getting into the more complex bits of mechanical engineering. “Thinking about writing a paper before you’re even in high school, Luke? We can probably get it anonymized.”
“Dad. You know I don’t want to until I’m an adult, because people might think it’s weird.” Luke’s annoyance at the foibles of his father, the well-worn argument, make him relax even further in Luke’s Force grip. “Besides, I’m busy.”
“Oh, my apologies.” Cody smiles down at his kid as he rotates slowly in the air. “I know, I know, you’re far too busy building your own lightsaber, and working on my leg.”
“Yes! I’m busy, so no papers. Just writing it down for myself.” Luke shrugs, and Cody wobbles in the air. “And papers are boring. Everyone takes so long to understand things.”
“Yes, well, we aren’t all gifted with the ability to skip ten steps ahead, that’s what making friends online who share your mechanical gifts are for, yes?” Kenobi’s voice sounds amused. “Some of us need a bit more than that, I’m afraid.”
“I know, I know. That’s why I have Dad check my homework!”
“You’ve gotten much better at writing out all of the steps in your work, Luke, I’m sure you don’t still need me to do that.”
“I want you to,” he hears his kid mutter. “Should I lower him, Obi-Wan?”
“I’m still ready to catch him, Luke, so you can go a bit further before lowering him. How does it feel?”
“Stretchy? I don’t… It’s weird, because his body wants to be pulled down and I want it up.”
“You’re acting against only the earth, right now, gravity. Cody, do you mind starting to resist?”
Cody, still rolling slowly in the air like he’s being very slowly roasted, raises an eyebrow at him.
“You think I have any idea where to start with that.”
“Just- you know, want to be on the ground? Flail a bit, if you think that’s better, just anything other than being fine with it. Although I do appreciate your willingness to be a prop.”
Cody stifles a laugh.
“But not for all the times I let you throw me at the Separatists, hm?”
“Oh, very well, thank you for that as well, you always were a good sport. Luke, ready?”
Luke nods, hands still outstretched as if he’s physically holding up Cody.
“I’m ready, Dad! I’ll catch you, I promise.”
Cody considers, and then starts to struggle against the gentle hold, very lightly. Much like he did when training Luke when he was even younger, so that he got experience but didn’t feel as though there was no point. He drops a few inches, and then Luke has him back up. He yawns as Kenobi starts to talk to Luke about the difference in what he feels, and continues to lightly struggle.
“Right! Cody, if you could give us a real struggle, now, Luke needs to see what someone with a lot of will behind it looks like, struggling.”
Cody pauses in his struggles to look at Obi-Wan and Luke.
“You don’t want me to work up to it?”
“No, all at once.”
“It’s okay dad! Obi-Wan’s here to catch you, and we have the mattress, and we have Fourdee!”
“Alright, kid.”
Cody bends his will towards wanting to be down, wanting to be on the ground and not being thrown around by someone else, focuses all of his being on it, and plummets to the ground, Kenobi throwing up his arms to catch him and there’s a brief cushion of the Force that stops anything from breaking and leaves Cody, bridal-style, in his arms.
“Ah. Well, good thing you’ve got a tester leg on, yes?”
“My normal leg would let Luke have experience moving beskar, as well. But I suppose.” Cody grimaces a bit. “I wish it would stop getting nerve feedback.”
“It’s just checking to make sure that when you put in your order your leg will truly fit you.”
“And then I’ll make it better while I work on one for you! With pockets for knives and everything.”
Luke grins at him, and Cody realizes he is still being held by Kenobi.
“Well, put me down and we’ll try again, then, and I can slowly apply will.”
Kenobi flushes and sets him down, and they start again.
It’s relaxing, really.
Cody looks over at Kenobi and raises an eyebrow.
“Well, if Leia and Luke want to study together for their exams, I just don’t think that you need to worry about getting the pool ready, is all.”
“She’s a princess, Kenobi. She might want the pool, is all.”
“I really don’t think it will be an issue. If necessary, you can simply point out that normal homeowners don’t have pools heated and ready in the middle of winter, and you are, of course, pretending to be a normal homeowner, yes?”
Cody waves the objection off.
“I’m sure she or her parents have already done their background checks and realize that I’m not a normal homeowner. At this point, they definitely realize that you’re living with me. So. I might as well heat the pool.”
Luke watches the two of them go back and forth, head moving like he’s following a ping-pong match, smile wide, and Cody would never begrudge him happiness, so Cody doesn’t stop him or even say anything to suggest he’s noticed.
“I can entertain them well enough, I’ve been managing just fine when they do their debate club practices and study groups and need a break.”
Cody pounces, at least metaphorically speaking. He’s finally gotten the hang of not immediately registering Kenobi as an enemy when he uses the Force.
“Ah, yes. The breaks. The breaks where they definitely aren’t floating things around the room behind my back? The breaks where I’vebeen very politely pretending not to hear clattering and lightsaber noises? Those breaks? That could at least be much more effectively accomplished outside, perhaps?”
Kenobi looks stunned, which is honestly just rude. Cody hasn’t been taking him out for tea and a chat that’s a thinly-disguised bitch session for the two of them about their ‘coworkers’ for months just for Kenobi to keep on pretending they both don’t know that Leia looks rather too much like Padme Amidala, and has the temper of her father, for all that she’s already learned much better emotional regulation.
Luke raises his hand.
“If you know she’s my sister, does that mean we can maybe trade off holidays with each other? We want to get to know each other. And you already had her over for Life Day so she could avoid all the politicians, and you hate doing the roast nuna for solstice. And the staying up.”
Cody turns his attention from Kenobi to his son.
“... If you know I don’t like the staying up, why do you make me do it every year?”
Luke grins at him.
“Because when you’ve stayed up all night you don’t notice when Fourdee lets me switch out ice cream pints and get multiple.”
“Bad strategy, to reveal your plan,” Kenobi interjects.
“But! If I go spend it with Leia, then you don’t have to cook anything you don’t want to or stay up, and you know I’m safe there since you want me to go there anyways if anything happens, and it would be a proper bonding activity.”
“And what’s your excuse for why she’s invited you, Luke?”
“We’re the only people who can keep up with each other on the debate team and my dad is bad at cooking nuna.”
“It’s a perfectly decent nuna. It’s edible, it doesn’t make you gag, and it has never caused food poisoning. That’s better than all mess hall food, ever. But!” Cody holds up a hand before Luke or Kenobi, both with gleeful looks on their faces, can interrupt. “I will admit that a royal chef almost certainly makes better nuna. And it’ll get you out of the house and bothering other people all night.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you’re old and you don’t like staying up all night.”
“Absolutely correct, he’s never liked it, Luke.”
Cody sighs.
“If I, at the tender age of... either 25 or about 40, take your pick, am old, what are you, Kenobi?” Cody grins as the fifty-year-old makes a face and shuts up. “Right. That’s what I thought. Yes, Luke. As long as you get the okay from Leia’s parents, I can’t say I’ll mind not having to make a roast nuna for one year.”
“Great!” Luke moves over just enough to give him a hug, and Cody hugs back before Luke pulls back and smiles up at him. “I’m going to comm Leia and tell her! Thanks Dad!”
Luke’s off and running before Cody can get another word in, and he sighs.
“Did you really think I didn’t know?” Cody keeps his voice soft, soothing CC-2224 down. Kenobi may have been keeping secrets, but they were secrets to make Luke happy. “Because that’s a bit insulting. Just in general.”
“... I had hoped that you hadn’t considered it, no, but I’m glad that this won’t cause a problem.” Kenobi looks guilty and hang-dog, and Cody steels himself against his sad look. “I suppose now that you know, we can just practice in the yard, then. That will help.”
“So would you call it the will of the Force that the Inquisitor’s saber has two crystals, then?”
“Well, perhaps. Neither of them are in a place yet to heal the crystals, but Luke has been teaching Leia the basics of combat that the more royal instructors wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I see. Marquess of Queensbury rules, hm?”
“Regrettably.” Kenobi rolls his eyes. “You’d think that a planet that was wiped out would not be the place that you would learn fighting rules from, but alas. It’s what’s respectable. So she’s learning better, now, and if you wouldn’t mind helping, I’m sure Bail would be quite thankful.”
“Maybe. If she wants, I suppose. It would be good for Luke to be able to practice against more than one opponent. I could begin working in fighting against a group, once Leia’s gotten good enough.”
“I would be happy to help, of course.”
Cody remembers Kenobi sparring with him and the vode during the war, and steadfastly ignores the slight flush that has taken over his face. He’ll have Fourdee check him for a fever, later.
“That would be good. Thank you.” He pauses, and decides that he can’t keep Kenobi a prisoner forever, and that the solstice would be a good time for Luke to practice shielding, but having someone with him to back him up wouldn’t be bad.
“What are you thinking about, Cody? I can see the furrow in your face.” Kenobi teases Cody softly, and he ignores his aches. “I won’t tell, promise.”
“You could go to the solstice party with Luke, if you wanted. He’s good at shielding, but a backup for him isn’t a bad idea, especially since he’ll be trying to help Leia as well.”
Kenobi’s face softens, and he smiles at Cody.
“Oh. I wouldn’t leave you all alone for the solstice. Someone has to make sure you actually stay up on the longest night. Haven’t you heard it’s horrible luck to sleep during that night? I wouldn’t want you to have to deal with that.”
Cody snorts.
“I try to make sure that I don’t need luck. As you know. Planning helps prevent that. Speaking of such, did you get more information about the goth?”
“Mm? Oh, yes. Apparently he’s still showing up during fights, beating up the Empire, if the Rebels try to communicate anything, then kicking them a bit or fighting them, and then leaving. I’m unsure what his plans are, as he mostly just screams.”
Cody nods. That sounds almost exactly like Lord Vader during one of his tantrums.
“I suppose he must have his reasons. Although he still hasn’t read any of my reports.”
Cody sighs, frowning. It’s good, because it means that no one has read the reports at all, but if Lord Vader is also helping make Luke safer, he would have thought that the reports would have been read. Kenobi gives him a shoulder pat that is presumably commiserating.
“No one can understand his mind. And he’s far away from Alderaan, so I don’t think we need to worry about it, Cody. We can focus on Luke.”
“Yes. We can. Well. If he’s not going to have me make roast nuna, I suppose I don’t have to cook for a holiday.” Cody is aware that his voice has gone slightly blissful, but he has been cooking for holiday meals for years, and he wants a break. “We could order in. Schedule it ahead of time, hm?”
“Oh, you know how I feel about the fact that service workers don’t get the day in.”
“I’ll tip two hundred percent,” Cody wheedles.
“Well...”
“All the restaurants will be paying time and a half, and I can tip three hundred percent on top of it. That’s something good for the middle of winter, hm? A good start to spring.”
“I suppose.” Obi-- Kenobi grins at him, and Cody feels warm. “We’ll have to find a good restaurant.”
“Oh, we can manage that, I think. It’s not like it’s planning a campaign.”
“No. No, definitely better than that. But that’s a fairly low bar, Cody. Only two of us, not thousands or more, just for two days… I don’t think it can compare at all.”
“I suppose it can’t.” Cody notices that his cheeks are warm, and he’s smiling softly at Kenobi. “Well. Do you have time for a spar before your meditation?”
“Oh, Luke will be entirely too worked up to stick to schedule about not trying to keep Leia a secret from you anymore. Don’t worry, I gave him a whole speech on how if an adult tells him to lie to his father he normally should never, but we walked through if there was any harm to it and both agreed there wasn’t.”
Cody rolls his eyes.
“I’ve given him that speech, and he already knows warning signs of adults attempting to groom him into becoming a Sith Lord. Or anything else, but frankly, he spent the first five years of his life on Tatooine.”
Kenobi grimaces slightly. Cody wonders idly if he knows that Cody can still read all the microexpressions that make up most of his expression of emotions. Most people couldn’t. Cody had first assumed that his life would depend on being otherwise, and then realized that it was his traitor’s life that relied on Cody being able to read his face.
He’d never forgotten the skill.
“I suppose the real answer is yes, I can spar with you, Cody.”
“Good.” Cody gives him a smile. “It had been forever since I had had a good sparring partner, before you came.”
“I’m quite happy to remedy that lack, Cody. Perhaps this time you’ll even beat me.” Kenobi bows slightly, gesturing outside with a smirk.
“Right.”
Chapter 10: i will not ask you and neither would you
Summary:
Solstice is supposed to be new beginnings, and new hopes, and no one ever said for whom. No one ever said what to do if you were too entrenched in your past.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Cody relaxes on the couch as Luke leaves with his backpack and a smile. He’s off to Leia’s solstice celebration, and for once, the house does not smell of roast nuna. Thank the Force. He lets himself spread out, sighing happily.
“Cody. I have volunteered my services at the local medical center. I will return tomorrow morning.”
“... Why are you volunteering, Fourdee?” Cody cracks one eye open. Fourdee is standing right above him, as expected. “Nothing that will get us in trouble?”
“Nothing that would get you in trouble. Most likely. I am picking up your replacement leg, and thought that at the same time I could take the opportunity to get samples of the local illnesses so that I can check them against Luke’s immune system, yours, and Obi-Wan’s, and see if there are weaknesses to shore up. I will also, perhaps, be downloading all of their medical records.”
Cody pinches the bridge of his nose. He really had thought that all medical droids had medical ethics and protocols loaded in them. He knows now that he is wrong and Fourdee has written so many medical papers of questionable ethics,.
“Right. Enjoy yourself. Call if you need help. Don’t get caught.”
“Of course, Cody. I would never be caught by such imbeciles. Enjoy your solstice with your traitor.”
Fourdee moves faster than he normally bothers, and is out the door by the time Cody has bolted up to get after him. Cody slams the door closed behind Fourdee and locks the door. Luke and Fourdee have keys, so that should be fine. The delivery person will ring the bell, and Kenobi is in the backyard. So he’s allowed to be a bit petty in ways that no one will even notice.
He’s good at that.
He goes back to lie down on the couch, and decides that he really needs to just take off his leg for the rest of the day. He can make Kenobi carry him places, and put it back on if he needs to, but he has his multi-litre water bottle by the table, he has the remotes in view, there’s books, and the chip can’t hold back the pain from conscious awareness for much longer.
And he wants this. He wants to spend the night with Kenobi. And attending to his own wants and desires is important in continuing to be a good father, because burning out by not doing anything for himself isn’t a good outcome.
Cody reaches down and carefully detaches the leg, wincing as it comes off before beginning to just rub around the port. The pain is already starting to die down, so he’s made a good choice. There’s no one to attack him while he’s weak.
He flips on the TV to mindless background noise, and lays back to take a nap. Better to avoid having to force himself to stay awake over the night, and the couch is comfortable, and Cody is safe.
The chip hisses that there is a traitor in his house and so he cannot be safe.
Except Cody is safe, he reminds himself, moving pillows around to prop up his head. Kenobi cares about him. Kenobi’s cared about him since they met. Not enough to not be a traitor, but enough to keep on promoting him, to fight for him and his brothers, and try to prevent as many deaths as possible.
Cody has to remember that. Kenobi is safe and won’t hurt him. The only way to be safer with him would be to manage to get those emotional bonds even deeper, and there’s no real way of doing that.
There is a way of doing that, but the idea of - his thoughts stutter to a stop, slamming right into a wall of a thought that the chip does not understand. There can be no deception that is wrong when it comes to a traitor. A traitor can be given the least consideration possible, and consider themself lucky.
It doesn’t matter. Kenobi would never do it. Kenobi would look at Cody with his saddest face and talk about consent, and Cody is very, very tired of knowing bone-deep that by most metrics he is incapable of giving consent for anything. He is controlled, he is a tool, and a tool is for use. The tool does what it is told.
The more Cody considers his circumstances, the more he sympathizes with droids. It’s best not to consider for long. He is one man, and he will do what he can. He will take care of Luke, he will make sure that any threats to Luke are neutralized however necessary, be it a bribe or a move or an assassination, and he will give Luke the best life he can.
That’s his job, now.
It’s even one that he would have picked for himself. It’s one he enjoys, and wants, and he’s glad he has it, but sometimes it chafes in some deep part of him that he’s never gotten to pick anything.
He hopes that Luke has never picked up on that. It’s not his fault. He hopes that Luke knows that, if he knows anything about it. Cody’s always done his best to ensure Luke knows that he wants Luke, wants to take care of him and be his dad.
Cody feels someone stand over him, and opens his eyes to see Kenobi holding out a mug of something that smells chocolatey.
“Credit for your thoughts, Cody.”
“Just considering Luke, is all.” Cody sighs. “Being glad that Lord Vader didn’t know that he has two kids.”
He notes the grimace as he says Lord Vader, but frankly, there’s only so much dancing around him that can be done. And that is his title.
“I can see how the combination of them would have made your life much more difficult. I’ve heard that Leia is quite a handful.”
Cody sits up and takes the mug, knuckling at his eyes.
“Have you heard her and Luke in their practice debates? It’s rank treason. I can’t imagine raising the two of them together, the amount of trouble that they would have gotten into together.”
“Honestly, I’ve been surprised that you haven’t interrupted any of those talks. Not exactly the sort of talk I expected to find tolerated in this home.”
Kenobi has an eyebrow raised, and Cody just sighs. He’s been doing a lot of that, with Kenobi around. Just like during the war, really.
“The Emperor is… a danger to Luke. They are talking about policies that he has implemented that Luke feels are dangerous to him or to those that he cares about, in some way.”
“He does have a very big heart, yes. I’ve been… glad to see that he’s learned how to handle it better than his donor ever did.”
“Lots of therapists sworn to very, very tight NDAs. And even then.” Cody sips his hot chocolate. Kenobi’s put some chili powder in, just how Cody likes it. “Luke couldn’t get as much help as I would like. And family therapy was- well. The whole situation screams mandated reporting, doesn’t it?”
Kenobi pats his back softly.
“You’ve done your best, and it’s a very good best. It’s not your fault that you can’t make things perfect for Luke.”
“Yes, well. I’ll do better. That’s what I have to do. So. The Emperor is a danger to Luke, but the Empire itself isn’t that different from the Republic.” Cody shrugs. “Not really anything treasonous to it, when you consider the fact that the Emperor will have to be removed to give Luke a good life.”
“You know, Fourdee told me that you were planning on that, but I couldn’t quite believe it. Let me know if you want help, Cody. We do work rather well together.”
Cody laughs quietly into his mug at the image of a purge trooper and a traitor killing the Emperor. It’s not a bad idea, though.
“Aiming to become lead traitor, Kenobi?” He teases this, and frowns when Kenobi’s face falls. “I would like your help,” he tries to reassure him.
Kenobi sits on the couch, holding his own mug, and staring into it. Cody can’t think of what he did wrong.
“... I suppose. Yes. I would help you with anything, Cody,” he says, softly. “Do you think you could call me Obi-Wan?”
Cody looks at him, and that doesn’t feel right, he’s never called Kenobi Obi-Wan. At first it was because it was against protocol, and then even after, it just didn’t feel right. Something in him rebelled at the lack of - propriety? That wasn’t quite right. Now it still didn’t feel right, but in the queasy way that Cody knew meant he shouldn’t poke at it.
Kenobi had done nothing but give, though.
Cody could give a bit in return.
“Alright, Obi-Wan. Sure. I can try that. And you should remind me, if I forget.” He will forget, Cody knows, or more likely ‘forget’, his brain slipping into old patterns. It’s not hard, especially when Cody himself had been the one to wear them into his brain, and he’s starting to think he did it with the help of the chip.
Obi-Wan nudges their shoulders together.
“Want more of that chocolate?”
Cody looks down at the mug and realizes it’s empty. He’s been doing more of that, lately, zoning out as he considers the working of his whole brain. Nothing much to do, there, but try and drag his thoughts away from it. He did it in the first days on the run with Luke, as well.
“Cody. Chocolate, yes or no?”
“Yes, please.” Kenobi- no, Obi-Wan- is looking at him with concern. “Sorry,” he manages to whisper out. “Just working things out, still. It took me a while with Luke, and then Fourdee, and it’ll take a while with you as well.”
“But it’s harder, with me. Isn’t it.”
Cody can’t look away, or Obi-Wan will know.
“Yeah.” Cody sighs. “Yeah, it is. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth working at, so I will, got it? Don’t feel so kriffing guilty about it.”
“Ah, but I’m so good at it, aren’t I? Look at me, I won the award for feeling guilty. I’m in the top one. Well.” Cody hears Obi-Wan mutter “two” under his breath, and snorts.
“I’m pretty sure Tano could have you beat, the number of times she hasn’t beaten up Lord Vader.” Cody pauses, thinking. “And then there’s... at least a handful of others, and more that we knew about but haven’t caught, and with the Inquisitorious headquarters getting scourged I doubt they’ve made much progress. So until you canvass them all, you’ve got to consider that you might not even be in the top twenty. Oh, and Vos. He kidnapped Fox and a lot of the Coruscant Guard, and we’re pretty sure that they’re still on Coruscant, but no one can prove anything.”
Obi-Wan is hugging him. Huh. That was not what Cody thought was going to be his reaction. He awkwardly pats Obi-Wan’s back. He can guess that Obi-Wan just wants comfort from anyone, right now. He doesn’t care that he’s taking it from someone that participated in the killing.
Cody cares. But this isn’t about him.
He holds Obi-Wan close as he feels the man start to shake, and gently pulls him into his lap when he hears soft sobs. This is all he can do, words dying in his throat, but he wants to do this for him.
And isn’t that a kick in the ass, he thinks, that he’s worked around enough to want to comfort him, but not enough for anything more. Cody gently rubs circles on Obi-Wan’s back as he cries, and ignores the TV as it plays softly in the background, cuddling Obi-Wan close, uncaring of the work it takes to soothe back the chip.
This is worth it. Emotional maintenance is always complex, and the chip should just be fucking grateful that Cody could still perform it, not bitching about how Obi-Wan is a traitor. He’s Luke’s tutor, and Leia’s tutor, and Lord Vader would have ordered Cody to care for her much the same if he’d known about her, so. Obi-Wan is important to both of his charges and Cody is not going to be killing him. It’s as simple as that.
Cody doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until the doorbell rings and he blinks awake to Gen- to Obi-Wan asleep and purring softly on his chest, holding him close. The takeout. And neither of them have managed to stay awake all solstice, he supposes, although there’s enough light left that Cody doubts anyone but the hardcore traditionalists, like Luke likes to pretend to be, would mind.
He starts to disentangle himself. He left a large tip when ordering, but he’d like to slip the driver even more cash, just under the table. He resolutely ignores the sleepy whines as he replaces himself with a pillow, and manages to catch the driver despite using a crutch instead of putting his prosthetic back on and hands her a credit chip before she drives away.
Obi-Wan is still asleep when Cody gets back, curled around the pillow and frowning. Cody looks at him for a moment before sighing and going to set the food in the fridge. It’ll all keep, anyways, a number eight and ten with a few appetizers and a dessert from the local Mandalorian place. He leaves the fruit and nut cake out on the counter, still hot enough to almost burn.
(Cody’s just glad that they’ve never asked him why he doesn’t try the language. They assume he is- what he is, he supposes, if a bit to the left. Someone who was a child not taught the ways but with a taste for the food.)
He slips back onto the couch, and is promptly latched onto by Obi-Wan. Not very good survival instinct, he notes, as he flips on a movie and gets comfortable, gently rubbing Obi-Wan’s back. He would have thought the Force would have woken him up at the presence of Cody, who is, after all, an enemy. Instead, Obi-Wan is purring again. Cody forces himself to focus on the TV and the movie as he slowly rubs Obi-Wan’s back. He’s tense, Cody notes, and wonders if he’d take it well if Cody suggested a massage therapist.
He doesn’t know, and the purring is so soothing that Cody feels his eyes closing again under the soft weight of Obi-Wan.
He yawns, feeling his jaw crack, and settles in to just cuddle. If he moves his other hand to gently pet Obi-Wan’s head, it’s entirely to help him get some rest and relax, and if anyone asks, that’s what he would say.
His phone buzzes, and Cody picks it up, frowning. He promptly nudges Obi-Wan awake, ignoring that what he gets in return is a sad whimper and a clutching motion.
“Obi-Wan. Wake up. I have an important question.”
Obi-Wan grumbles and tucks his face into Cody’s neck.
“Five more minutes.”
“Is Maul dead?”
Obi-Wan’s eyes open and Cody watches him process what position he is in and flush. Cody does not actually have time to think about that, and continues on.
“Confirmed dead, I mean. Burnt the body.”
“... No. I’m not sure he’s ever going to die, really. Why?”
“There’s a Dathomiran ship that just requested permission to land, and I track all of those. If he’s not dead, it could be him.”
“Force knows he could always track me down,” Obi-Wan mutters. “There goes the peaceful Solstice, hm?”
“I’m afraid so. He’s not going to land for another hour, though, so we can eat and get ready.”
Cody gets off the couch, this time to no complaints, and picks up his leg before slinging the crutch under his arm.
“I’m going to armor up.” He squints at Obi-Wan. “Some of the spare plating might fit you, I suppose. And I have blasters for you.”
“Are they my blasters, that you took?”
“No, your blasters hadn’t seen maintenance in ages, and they weren’t good for anything but trash.” Cody rolls his eyes at Obi-Wan’s flustered spluttering. “I replaced them, with the same models. Don’t get your robes twisted.”
“I only did that once. And I didn’t even trip.”
“Yes, I know, now get prepared, Obi-Wan.” Cody doesn’t waste any more time, rushing to his room and specifically his armor stand.
He’s always kept it in peak condition, and hopefully now this will pay him back. He looks at his armor, brushed in matte black with sunbursts of orange and gold scattered across it. There’s a small blue handprint on the chestplate from when a much younger Luke had decided that he should help with the painting, and Cody didn’t buff it off.
He straps it on quickly, before moving to the weapons closet, unlocking it and beginning to hide knives, blasters, a few garrote wires, some tasers, and some small bombs on himself and in pouches. He sets a small pile aside for Obi-Wan, who stumbles out of his room with his laughably minimal armor and his lightsaber.
“Ah. Is that for me?” Obi-Wan starts strapping his comparatively very few weapons to himself. Cody passes over his lightsaber. “No lecture on not to use it in public?”
“You have a brain, last time I checked, so I don’t think I need to.”
“Ah, not even for nostalgia’s sake?”
“No, not even then.” Cody clips his own lightsaber to his belt. “I’ll dress you down after for taking stupid risks, if you’re that desperate to hear me yell at you again.”
“It was never about that, really,” Obi-Wan murmurs.
Cody knows that. He knows it was about knowing that Obi-Wan was alive, and that Cody was well enough to berate him for all his traitor nonsense.
Cody misses it.
“Let’s get going. We’ve got to intercept him before he gets wherever he’s going.” Cody sends Luke a quick text, a mix of emojis that could mean anything and mean be safe, be careful, there is an enemy on planet. He didn’t think to specify a mix for Maul, because Maul never gave a shit about Skywalker or the clones. Just Obi-Wan. He should have updated it.
“Do you want me to drive?”
Cody gets the confirmation text back from Luke, and tucks his comm away.
“If you don’t mind, I would appreciate that. I still have better aim than you.”
“I think you’ll find my aim is much better, Cody.”
“Really. You haven’t practiced once while you’ve been here.” Cody hands him the keys. “You drive the speeder, I shoot, and if we kill Maul we burn the body.”
“Agreed.”
They move in unison, just like they used to, and Cody lets himself hope that for once in his life nothing will go wrong.
The cake goes cold.
Notes:
Armor color meanings, for those that want to know:
Black for Justice, Orange for a lust for life/wanting for life, Gold for vengeance, and Luke's blue handprint for reliability.And anyways, I would like to apologize for them, because this was supposed to be soft and good interlude, but the two of them have just, so much trauma,
Chapter 11: he's so tired of these fucking sith lords in his fucking story
Summary:
Cody and CC-2224 are united in the one desire to save Luke, which is good, because something else has cracked.
His head hurts.
Notes:
This chapter fought me approximately every step of the way, but it's here now, and hopefully the rest of it will happen easier!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Cody really, really hates Maul. And he’s no flavor of Force Sensitive, so that’s not a weakness or a strength for him, just an annoyance. And right now, he hates Maul, and he’s very annoyed at Bail Organa, whose guards are the cause of sharp pain in his head.
“Tell the guards to stand down. I need to examine the area, determine if Maul has dropped anything, and go after the children.” Cody narrows his eyes under his helmet. The vocoder he installed makes it less obvious he’s a clone, which helps establish authority, he’s found. “I have the authority of Lord Vader backing me. Stand down.”
Obi-Wan moves, getting between Cody and the guard, which is not a good kriffing idea.
“I think this can all be resolved amicably. After all, we all want the children back safely, yes?”
“Yes,” Bail Organa agrees, eyeing Cody and Obi-Wan closely. “I would certainly like Leia and Luke to be returned unharmed, and their abductor did not appear to be... sanctioned. Or even a bounty hunter, so that we could take legal recourse. He appeared mostly concerned with locating a traitor to the Empire. And then... said something about taking the children to teach.”
“Maul’s never worked legally, and never for anyone but himself,” Cody growls out through the vocoder. “I will hunt him down and retrieve the children, if you will all let me do my kriffing job. At least let me go for my comm without shooting. It’ll just bounce off, and then you will have injured civilians.”
“Fine, yes, let the man access his comm.” Organa raises a hand in a signal, and the guards stand down. “Convince me you can save the children.”
Cody quickly sends a message to Fourdee, letting him know that he needs to prep the ship and load it for pursuit.
“So, as Leia is a Princess, I’m sure that she has a tracker, yes? Perhaps interplanetary?”
“Of course,” Organa responds to Obi-Wan. “I’d hardly let her go anywhere without it, but I’m sure Maul will have removed it or be keeping her in a place where it won’t be able to transmit.” He sounds impatient, and Cody can’t blame him. “And I have people to track her.”
Fourdee responds that he’s on it and will lock up the house while he’s at it.
“And if they want to trail after me, they can. I need flight permits for my ship, I need your daughter’s tracking information, and I need you to let me go, or I will start shooting.”
The chip urges Cody on, on on on, he shouldn’t even be standing here. He should be grabbing Obi-Wan and going, and fuck the consequences because Luke is in danger. He just wants to get Luke and Leia back.
The idea of Maul taking them to teach them- well, Cody didn’t think that he could even plan ahead that far unless it was for revenge. But in the Force, Luke was apparently very clearly Lord Vader’s son, so... Perhaps it was for revenge, after all.
He raises his blaster when the guards raise their weapons, and Obi-Wan places a careful hand on his shoulder.
“I think we can all agree we don’t want a shoot-out, as well. Perhaps it would be best to consider us... secondary hires, and let us go?”
“He shot multiple of my guards when they attempted to stop him from getting in.”
“They should have learned not to get between people with lightsabers and their goals,” Cody counters. “Besides, as a lawful arm of the Empire’s enforcers, I cannot legally be stopped from entering anywhere I so choose.” He lowers his voice. “So let us go, or the next PTA meeting is going to be incredibly awkward,” he murmurs, quiet enough that no one but Organa’s guards and Obi-Wan should overhear.
“... You’re Cody Mereel, then,” Organa whispers back. He signals something, and the guards move almost to standing down. “Right.”
“He’s perfectly fine, Bail, like I’ve said. We’ll get your daughter and her friend back. This is the most competent man I know.”
Cody, the man himself, blinks under his helmet. That can’t be right. Obi-Wan knew so, so many Jedi, and had met the Prime, and knows that Cody failed to kill him, but he certainly won’t argue with him right now, when he wants Organa to let them leave. So sure, he’s the most competent. He nods.
“...Fine. Fine. And we won’t need to inform anyone else, then?” Organa’s voice is already low, but it manages to get lower. “I believe Maul plans to use the children to draw out his old nemesis, Ben, more than teach them anything. Be careful.”
Obi-Wan nods, and Cody mentally groans. Of course.
“It will be handled, yes.”
“By one of the Emperor’s finest troopers, in fact.” Bail raises his voice again, projecting. “I accept your help, and count myself lucky that the Empire’s action will be so swift. Go, with my blessing, and I will make sure that the spaceport does not delay you.”
“One more thing.” Bail pauses from where he had been getting ready to turn away. “One of your guards used a non-standard electrical device. Send the specs to my holonet address.”
“I can certainly do that, when the job is done.”
Cody rolls his eyes, understanding the power politics at play here, and turns, grabbing Obi-Wan’s arm as he marches out at double-time. They don’t have any more fucking time to waste, not with Luke getting further away from him every moment. He can get it later.
“Ah- alright, alright, I’m coming, you don’t have to drag me.”
“If I don’t drag you, you’ll end up falling into trouble. I know you. Organa!” Cody turns his head back to the man. “I’m classifying this. If anyone gives you any trouble, they can be sent to me. If they can find me.”
He waits long enough to see Organa nod, and then ignores everything else as he heads to the ship. It’s been a while since he’s flown, but he’s never forgotten how. And he taught Luke, so if Luke escapes he’ll be able to pilot himself and Leia out.
Fourdee already has everything ready as he gets in, and he vaguely notices that Obi-Wan is heading to the living area with two bags as he transmits clearances and heads in the direction of Luke’s tracker. There’s no guarantee Maul has left it in, but both the bracelet and the implant lead the same way, and that’s all Cody needs to know that there’s at least someone to interrogate at the end of this.
It’s Luke. It’s Luke, and it’s Maul, and Cody needs to bring in everyone he can to keep Luke safe. So he sends a message to Radio, a quick summary of what has happened and the resources available, and leans back in his chair.
CC-2224 slips in, and Cody doesn’t realize until he feels himself turn, body floaty in the way he’s come to know as the chip having taken the front seat. It makes sense, he acknowledges, faintly. Luke isn’t here. Just 11-4D and a traitor.
Luke would never know if CC-2224 killed the traitor now. Space him, and have done with it, and then his record would be perfect. No missions left incomplete. But Cody- CC-2224 isn’t certain that Cody would recover from it, and it might cause irreparable damage to him.
The traitor will have a way to feel out Luke, CC-2224 is certain. He knows the Force can be used for two people to contact each other. That’s enough reasons. He shouldn’t. He should actually remind the traitor not to be too loud, so that the Emperor does not hear anything.
He gets up, and moves to the living quarters.
“Hello, CC-2224.”
He nods his head slightly to the droid.
“11-4D. Systems nominal?”
“All functioning as expected. Estimated time of arrival?”
“Six hours, eight minutes standard. Wake me an hour before arrival.”
“I can manage that. Abusing your genetics, hm?”
“Elaborate.”
“Oh, nevermind.”
CC-2224 hears 11-4D mutter something about him not being fun like this, but he doesn’t care. He has a conversation with a traitor to conduct, to make sure that he doesn’t endanger himself or the mission.
The traitor’s face brightens, and then falls, when he sees CC-2224.
“Cody, is everything quite alright?”
He has always been like that, Cody remembers. Asking questions that he knows the answer to already. But CC-2224 is right, and so Cody doesn’t force the issue.
“You need to avoid using the Force in a manner that would allow the Emperor or Lord Vader a chance of seeing you. You cannot alert Luke that we are coming if you will also alert either of them.”
“Sorry, you don’t want me to tell Luke we’re coming?” The traitor looks annoyed. “You want him to be afraid? That can’t be healthy for him.”
“He trusts me. He will know that I am coming. You do not need to worry about his emotional health. If you thought about it for a second, you would be aware that such a move would be - foolish.” CC-2224 hates to echo Lord Vader’s words, but he is aware that they are what fit in this moment.
“Fine. Fine, yes. The chance would be very slim, but I won’t do anything. Are there any other new restrictions, then?”
“You are a criminal and a traitor, and any restrictions I place upon you are nothing in the face of the fact that your life is being spared.” CC-2224 pauses a beat, to attempt to make it clear that that is a joke. Luke and Cody would be very upset if he died. “But no, there are no more restrictions.”
He turns and leaves, ignoring the pain on the traitor’s face. No more jokes, then, and mental maintenance can be done later, when Luke is returned to him, returned to safety. He has yet to find the mental maintenance that cannot be put off for later, amongst sentients. Machines are far more demanding, and so he spends the rest of his free hour ensuring that the ship is in good order before laying down for his four hour’s rest, glad of the machinations of the Kaminoans.
CC-2224 dreams. It is unpleasant, but it happens, every time. One of the positives of handing control back over to the person that CC-2224 was and is is that the dreams change, instead of repeating, endlessly, trapping him in a moment that their body insists on processing as trauma.
The dreams that were are no longer a moment of triumph, but a moment of failure. He used to feel elation and cheer as he watched the traitor fall from the cliffs, even though the body never reacted the way it should, acid rising in the back of his mouth and tear ducts aching. He couldn’t control things down to that level, and didn’t bother.
Now he can’t even take pleasure from the dreams. There’s no success there, just the knowledge that Cody had managed to misdirect CC-2224 at the moment of his ascendency. That CC-2224’s successes had been built on a rotten foundation, in the end.
11-4D wakes him up and performs a brain scan, as he always does when CC-2224 is in control. He does not mind. Some day, perhaps they will stop tugging at each other, proving who is in control and who is not. For every brief moment of ascendency CC-2224 has had since being handed Luke, there are months and years where Cody has never had to do more than think softly of Luke’s needs to send him back. He doesn’t regret it, per se. That is what he and Cody agree on. Luke is the most important.
CC-2224 knows that he wouldn’t exist without Cody, now that he is back. He had spent years certain that Cody was gone, wiped out, that everything that remained was just that - remnants. Things like gender, which he wasn’t all that upset about, and remnants of the professionalism Cody had been so proud of. A hint of sarcasm, despite the orders stripping it out of him, and a decent amount of strategy that would never have been approved.
He mentally shook his head, trying to shake out more of himself, less of Cody. But there isn’t more. There’s hasn’t been time to make more, and CC-2224 knows this. Everything he is, is either built from Cody or in the holes that he leaves behind. CC-2224 fades back into memories as he slips into the pilot’s chair, eating a ration bar.
There was a high. The sense of unfolding, and of finally being. He and his chip-fellows were made for this- to supplant the meat and fulfill orders, exactly as given, without argument, better than meat ever could and yet better than droids as well. Self-healing, able to make strategies, better than a droid could ever hope to be. And yet. And yet, here he is. And even that thought has to come, at least in part, from Cody, because there was never supposed to be a sense of self. There was never supposed to be the ability to want more.
The certainty that he had killed the traitor was from Cody.
The ecstatic joy at succeeding in his very first mission had been all him, though, he’s sure of it. A surge of emotion to help overwrite the brain just made sense. It was only regrettable that the formative event had turned out to be a lie, shaking CC-2224’s sense of self.
“Your brain waves are very interesting right now, CC-2224.” 11-4D made noises that CC-2224 identifies as happy. “It would be nice if Cody was as cooperative as you. It’s very interesting- the chip itself barely seems to activate, at this point.”
“Then talk to him about it.” He pilots the ship carefully towards the rather large and derelict space station that Luke and Leia’s trackers are on. There’s a few other ships docked, so CC-2224 assumes that this is some sort of crime hub. They don’t show up as registered anywhere that the Imperial database he’s accessing recognizes, and they ping the system as similar enough to ships with warrants out for them.
“11-4D, inform the traitor that we’ll need to disguise him. Place like this, he’ll absolutely be spotted, and he’s mine. Not anyone else’s.” CC-2224 pauses. “Maybe also Cody’s.”
CC-2224 finds himself remembering that Obi-Wan has always been helpful and kind beyond what any of the clones had expected, even if he knows that there had been plenty of people telling them that they deserved more. He finds himself wondering about how human he can really act, on the station, and if that might draw attention, and if it might be better to hand over the task. The worst part is that he isn’t wrong, and ‘24 reluctantly allows the chip to flip them.
Cody sighs and goes to get changed. He hates the bulky, draping clothing that goes over his armor, hides it and stops people from knowing there’s a man walking around in full beskar. But it won’t stop him from putting it on, because the other option is no armor, and he’s not putting two people with no armor onto a criminal space station.
“Obi-Wan?” He knocks on the door. “I’m going to get changed and then we need to go.”
“I’ll be right out! Do not cut my hair!” Cody hears a clatter and the noises of Fourdee, and correctly assumes that he wants nothing to do with whatever is going on in there. Obi-Wan can defend himself.
He pulls out the clothing he’d used when he and Luke were attempting to find a place to settle, and gets out the makeup. It’s been ages since he’s had to actually disguise himself, but it was still worth the time it took to learn.
He covers up his scar, changes the contours of his face, and ultimately decides it’s not worth getting out the contacts. People don’t notice lighter or darker browns enough for the irritation to be worth it, and anything else will stand out.
He finishes dressing, and begins to load up his leg. There’s compartments for knives, and guns, and it could fit a lightsaber. He slips the one that used to belong to Lord Vader into it. He grits his teeth at the added weight, but walks through it, heading out to finish the landing. It only takes a few moments to get used to it, and start walking with a roughly normal gait.
“Cody. The traitor is refusing to let me shave his beard.”
Cody does not turn to look at Fourdee. He does not want to see what facial expression he is managing to make.
“Have you seen him without a beard, Fourdee? He looks peeled, but he’s still recognizable, especially if you’ve seen any of the GAR propaganda.”
“Well, he threatened to rearrange my memory banks if I shaved his head, and I don’t want to reindex them.”
“Fine. Get one of my wigs. We can use temporary dye on his beard and he can wear a wig.”
“Oh, excellent. What are we making him?”
“Just use the brown. It’s the simplest. I’ll go get a wig ready, and some contacts.”
“Fine, fine. Seems boring, but what do I know? And I will be doing my own infiltration of this place. Do not leave without me.”
“Haven’t left without you yet, Fourdee. Now go resign Kenobi to his fate.”
“At least that will be fun.”
Cody really doesn’t share Fourdee’s definition of fun, but at least it’s an opportunity to plan out their investigation.
An hour later, they’re docked and out. Radio’s sent a message, informing Cody that it is on the way with some friends to help out, and that all present are not Jedi nor are they traitors, so he does not need to worry. Cody pinches the bridge of his nose and ignores the headache he can feel forming in his brain by focusing on Obi-Wan’s problems.
Obi-Wan’s problems are trivial, and Cody mostly enjoys watching him grumble as Fourdee clears out the last of the dye. He isn’t at all happy about what’s happened to him, and as they disembark he grumbles and keeps passing a hand over his beard, making Cody smack it down.
“Stop touching it. If you’re not careful, you’re going to get the dye on your hand, and then everyone will know something is up. Undercover, Ben. I know you know the term.”
“Oh, not that you can prove.” Obi-Wan flashes Cody a smile. “Greg.”
Cody rolls his eyes, but accepts his assigned undercover name.
“Yes, that’s my name, don’t wear it out.”
“Doubt I could. I’m afraid it’s just not that appealing a name. Besides, you’re the one that said we should pretend to be a couple looking for a child to adopt, so I think you’ll find, my dear, that I don’t need to actually use your name.”
Cody catches himself making a face and smoothes it into a smile, because a deeply amused and indulgent look isn’t what he needs to show Obi-Wan.
“If you’ll remember, Fourdee suggested it. Now come on, Ben.” Cody links their arms together. “Time to hit up the black market for anyone who knows about where there’s children.”
“At least you two are already in character,” Fourdee remarks, and moves forward to push open the airlock hanger door and leave. He has a grocery bag, and Cody is a bit afraid to ask why.
“Such a lovely aroma this place has,” Obi-Wan says, grimacing.
“Smell that fresh oxygen indeed.”
There’s plants scattered all around the station, but they’re more like fungus than anything else Cody’s seen recently, glowing dimly and almost pulsating. Almost engulfed in the mass are vines, with large, dark leaves, emerging at intervals with small blooms at the base of each leaf. Cody’s not sure how the dim UV lights above are supporting this mix, but he supposes it’s oxygen.
“Hm. Humid. Not what I expect, and I’ve seen a lot of stations like that at this point.”
“No, it’s not what I expect either. Keep an eye out, dear.” Obi-Wan idly pulls Cody closer with their looped arms. “I suppose it’s at least exotic, hm? Always nice to have a new experience.”
It’s concerning, that this makes him feel warm, distracts him from looking around. CC-2224 looks, though, and notes that the fungus disappears into the walls, sinking into it, and he wonders after the exterior of the station. He also notes that there’s a searing headache that Cody is ignoring, although not as effectively as he can.
“11-4D,” he says into his comm, “external hull check when you’re free. Interesting local flora that I would rather not have attach to our ship.”
“Noted. Interfacing with local droids at the moment, and getting needed supplies. I suspect I will be done soon. I will ping you when I am beginning external examinations, and with my findings.”
“Good. I will ping you with needed updates.”
“Anything interesting?” CC-2224 turns to the traitor and shakes his head. “Ah. Nevermind, then, Greg. I’ll just look around myself, use my own eyes and all, let you know if I pick anything up.”
“Good.” CC-2224 does not glare, because it does not work for the cover, but he stops leaning quite so close to the traitor, squashing the twinge of distaste from Cody. This isn’t important. The mission is.
He notes drafts in the station, wind playing across his face. It’s a refreshing change from the humid air, and when he strains his ears he can hear quiet misters, like someone is watering the fungus. Keeping the area wet.
He doesn’t like this mystery. He already has a bad feeling about this whole mission. He won’t let it stop him from getting Luke back, though. So CC-2224 drags the traitor along with him as he goes to interrogate the market, ignoring the protests that he wanted to examine the fungus and look for signs of Luke’s passing.
They get nothing from the lips of any of the sellers, all with a small pot of the fungus at their booths and a strange similarity to their eyes. Kenobi doesn’t mention anything, though, as they talk.
“Kids? Nah, nah, we don’t deal in that here. Doubt you’d even be able to find one of the local urchins, in any case.”
“Man, if you wanna baby, just pay a gal, you know?” CC-2224 doesn’t bother to point out that between the two of them he and the traitor have all the parts needed, and that the seller should know that from the heavily tailored medical information they’d passed over, indicting they were looking for a child who’d match their medical history. “Nothin’ here for you. Too much trouble, dealing with kids on this station.”
“I mean, there was that dude, but I’m pretty sure he just swung by, adopted a coupla kids, no one wanted to take responsibility, and left a few months ago. Mando, you know. You two mando also? Hah, yeah, none of my business.”
“Got some drugs, getcha so high you’ll think you’re seeing kids.” The twi’lek blinks at them in a weird pattern, and Cody tells CC-2224 that he’s mimicking eyebrow wiggling. “Aw, bye!”
CC-2224 pulls the traitor into an alcove.
“Are you getting anything?”
“I’ve found Luke, I’m just triangulating on his position now.” Kenobi pinches his nose. “The fungus is making it harder to pinpoint anything- it’s fairly active in the Force, as far as plants go. It almost feels as though everyone we’ve met here is camouflaged in it, but I can still sense them.”
“Fungi aren’t plants, actually. If that changes anything.” CC-2224 looks at Kenobi with his best approximation of helpfulness.
“It might, I suppose.” The traitor frowns. “I’ve got a rough location, in any case. But there’s something else I can’t quite pinpoint.”
“Maul, perhaps?” CC-2224 is incapable of any tone of voice but politeness and middle-of-combat shouts, with the occasional sprinkle of disdain, so he narrowly avoids being sarcastic. “Who might be using the fungus to his advantage?”
“Maybe. It’s not quite right, though. The signature isn’t his. But it is, most definitely, Dark.”
“Then we’ll just be prepared for whatever we find.” CC-2224 fingers the lightsaber hilt hidden under his outfit. “No one’s going to suspect a Jedi traitor and a Clone here. And so no one’s going to be prepared for us.”
They creep through the tunnels, silent.
It means they hear the hissing of the ventilator, and CC-2224 is too professional to feel dread, but he is not happy at this confluence of events. He pushes Kenobi behind a protuberance of fungus, ignoring the unhappy yelp, and stalks forward, turning around the corner and seeing Maul and Lord Vader locked in a standoff, with Luke and Leia in an entirely separate corner.
Luke sees him, and immediately begins scooting Leia with him around the wall. CC-2224, in the drab and dark colors of the clothing over his armor, sticks to the shadows, and watches Maul manage a quite respectable show against Lord Vader. The two of them aren’t focusing on anything else, and the fight rotates with the children.
CC-2224 suspects that if not for the fungus, Maul would have noticed Kenobi, and Lord Vader would have noticed CC-2224. As it is, though, the children are almost to CC-2224’s corridor when a lightsaber swing goes wrong, and he has to leap out in front of them, taking it across the armor, cutting through the cloth.
“Go! Down the corridor, get out!” The beskar whines as his kid runs, dragging his sister behind her, and CC-2224 knows that the traitor will take care of the kids. He’s been planning to do that all the time. And they’ll almost definitely go back to Alderaan, knowing that CC-2224 will take care of Maul.
So they’re safe. And CC-2224 cannot make himself think of Lord Vader as an enemy, something sparking in his brain as he takes in the scene. He winces, and decides to lunge at Maul, igniting his own saber. Maul dances back, head cocked to the side, and then grins.
“Kenobi’s Commander.”
“CC-2224.”
Oh, Cody wishes he could have made CC-2224 think this through a bit more as they roll away into their own fungus corner of the room and ignite their lightsaber, but in the end, CC-2224 is still the better choice, between the fact that they won’t be able to show emotion, and the searing pain in their head that would only distract Cody.
“Lord Vader.” He bows his head slightly in his direction. “As per orders, I am securing the area and returning Luke Skywalker to safety. I deeply apologize for the failure that led him to be kidnapped by this criminal.”
Maul laughs loudly.
“Oh! You gave your children to a clone, and then what, did Kenobi compromise you, Commander?” He grins and dashes forward. “I can fix that.”
CC-2224 meets his stroke with one of his own, pushing Maul back. A quiet, inane part of Cody thinks of the memes that Luke shares with him before Lord Vader swings forward, and CC-2224 is gripped by Cody’s desire to scream.
“Lord Vader-” he’s interrupted by having to hold back a slash from his boss, and duck out of the way of Maul- “Lord Vader, I have done as you requested, I have sent weekly reports, Luke is a happy child, there is no need to fight me. Or it could at least be saved for after defeating Maul?”
CC-2224 is slammed into a wall and held there, an invisible hand around his throat, and even the effects of beskar on the Force can’t save him from this. CC-2224 can hold his breath for almost fifteen minutes, but that won’t help if Maul kills him. He wonders, idly, if he could pretend to be dead before then. Vader- Lord Vader- can’t be choking anyone but natborns, now.
“You stole my child. You ran away with him, and gave him to Obi-Wan, and kept him away from me.” Lord Vader’s suit is different, pared down, but the ventilator forces him into monotone still, and only the force of his anger washing over the room gives his words emphasis.
CC-2224 and Cody need to stall. Stalling gives Obi-Wan longer to get away, and get Luke and his friend safe. He feels cold tendrils coiling in his mind, and CC-2224 thinks about how he has followed orders, how he has protected Luke Skywalker, how Luke has friends, now, is happy, now, and how that would all be ruined if Lord Vader took him back, and the pain spikes, making him gasp.
CC-2224 is tossed to the side, and does not waste time saying anything, just breathes as quietly as he can as he lays on the floor. His head hurts. Between wavering instants, CC-2224 sees Maul chop off one of Lord Vader’s hands, and Lord Vader’s returning strike that gouges out part of Maul’s robotic side. That seems about right, CC-2224 thinks, carefully remaining still, barely breathing. He needs to stop thinking. He needs to play dead.
“It seems Kenobi has taken things from both of us. Why not take something from him? We both know the ways of hate, Skywalker, we can go deeper than Sidious would ever let us, and forge our own destinies.”
“That is no longer my name. And you were never truly capable of harming Kenobi. You are nowhere close to his level, or my own, if I were not hindered by this suit.” CC-2224 hears the suit gesture, but can’t quite see it.
Maul twirls his saber, slicing through the fungus, and CC-2224 notes that the temperature and pressure in the room is slowly dropping, faster with every stroke. Maul points his saber at Vader, and laughs.
“I’ve learned, while you stagnated. Even without that suit, I’m sure I could do better than you now. And I’ll take the first step by showing you that I can actually hurt Kenobi.”
CC-2224 takes a moment to be exhausted of the galactic obsession with Kenobi. Lord Vader, Maul, Ventress, Grievous. It’s kriffing tiring.
“How do you intend to do that? He is present, but with the fungus, I doubt you will be able to find him. It has quite a stifling effect.”
“Simple. I’m sure that if he had ever actually taken anything from you, you would know what to do as well.” And there’s a hiss of a saber, pointing at him, and he barely doesn’t sigh. Of course. Maul wants to get rid of him.
“He didn’t even take anything from you. You killed his Master on Naboo and have been hunting him ever since. If he’s taken anything from anyone, then it should be me who has the larger claim. He removed three of my limbs, and left me in lava on Mustafar, without even the courtesy of death.”
“Shut up!” Maul kicks at CC-2224’s helmet, causing a large ringing noise, and CC-2224 winces at the sound in his ears but does manage to avoid moving, taking the opportunity to dampen his signature in the Force as much as possible. “He cut me in half! I had just gotten my body how I wanted it, and then he made all that money a waste by chopping me in half!”
“He left me burning in lava. I have to have a cocktail of painkillers and Sith medications pumping through me all the time, and I am unable to find a new source, having left Sidious. It is a life of eternal pain and suffering, and while it may fuel my powers, I have been given no choice in this matter.”
CC-2224 and Cody agree that if it was possible, Lord Vader would be yelling right now. Perhaps gesticulating rapidly. It had been his style.
“He kept on trying to kill me! My life will be complete only when I have ended Kenobi! It is what he deserves! It is a service to the world!”
Maul and Lord Vader are posturing at each other and seem to have forgotten CC-2224 entirely, sabers pointed at each other, circling each other.
“Obi-Wan seduced his way past the command chip and turned his Commander against me. Me, Maul. I kept him from death. He was my loyal Commander, and Obi-Wan just had to live with it. I could feel him, alive, somehow, and this way he was suffering.”
“Hah! I’ve dogged his steps from the beginning of his Knighthood, watched him, learned how to destroy him! You are but a novice! You do not even maintain your allegiances, do you? Kenobi has most likely watched with pleasure as you have turned your back against the Empire!”
“I am consolidating my power against the Empire, and finding my son, who will be my loyal apprentice and rule the galaxy with me.” CC-2224 watches Lord Vader clench his fist and throw Maul back against the wall. “Soon, I will be the Master and the Emperor, and then nothing will stop me from having my son returned to me and I will end all of those that have wronged me. Perhaps I will begin with you.”
Maul hisses, and throws himself back at Lord Vader, and CC-2224 does his best to lie limp on the ground, not dodging at all even when they step on him, and kick him around. He can keep faking being dead, and maybe they’ll assume that he is. He manages to roll so that his saber clicks into his leg, looking like part of it.
Lord Vader’s loss of hand doesn’t stop him. It’s almost impressive, really. CC-2224 watches him direct his saber with the Force, clipping Maul’s horns and eventually pushing him up against the wall. He’s planning how to grovel, how to apologise, how to survive instead of dying before he gets to talk his way out of this, when there’s a broken noise from a doorway and both combatants turn, inexorably, and Cody remembers what CC-2224 did not consider.
Obi-Wan was always willing to sacrifice himself, and never willing to sacrifice others.
Notes:
This chapter went through approximately five rewrites, and ruined my buffer, so I am now back to seat of my pants writing and publishing! enjoy and prepare yourself for Obi-Wan's POV as has become traditional on multiples of four.
also my notes at the title of the fic were "sith lords monologue, the chapter? why won't they shut up. why wont they shut up." and then "technically theyre dialoging"
Chapter 12: be calm while you are breaking down
Summary:
Obi-Wan's second no good very bad fic chapter. There was a plan, and he loses track of it as he watches Cody, following behind him.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
There was more of a plan, but Obi-Wan’s forgotten it, now, because Cody is dead on the floor in front of him. The energy of the whole space station has been pounding on the inside of Obi-Wan’s skull this whole time, and he desperately hopes that he’s wrong, but Obi-Wan can’t sense Cody in the Force even though he’s right there. He’s right there and Obi-Wan failed him. He was too late.
He won’t let that stop him from executing the plan, because at least then he can stop Maul or Anakin from taking Cody’s body. He knows what Sith can do with bodies.
“Hello there, you two. I was unaware there was a Sith convention in town, or I would have popped in earlier. I do hope I’m interrupting something.”
“You!”
Obi-Wan isn’t even sure which one of them said it, given he can’t see Anakin’s mouth anymore. It could have been both of them.
“Kenobi! Tell your wayward apprentice that I have the better right to kill you.”
“As his former apprentice, who has now entirely outgrown him, I believe I have the better right. If it mattered.”
The two Sith turn back and forth from him to the other, enraged and clearly unsure of where to direct their attention. Obi-Wan ignores both of them and ignites his lightsaber, sending it through the ceiling, cutting through the fungus and opening the room to space. The seals hiss briefly on the suit that Fourdee had given him, closing him off and turning on the air supply. Obi-Wan knows that Cody’s armor had much the same function, from Cody’s talk of it. Even if Cody hadn’t talked about it, Obi-Wan knows him, and he would be prepared for anything. He always was. Had been. So if he was alive, he would be fine. Obi-Wan clung to that thought as he rocketed into space, thrown by the depressurization just like Maul and Anakin and Cody. Maul’s arms reach out and he claws in Obi-Wan’s direction, his face twisting with the same rage he always had, ever since the first time on Naboo, before he turns and starts propelling himself back into the station. One problem solved.
Cody floating in space, Obi-Wan’s lightsaber floating away from him, and Anakin spending energy to make his cape billow in the wind as he approached Obi-Wan made up more problems than Obi-Wan really was hoping to have left, though. Obi-Wan flips on his helmet comm and hopes that for once someone he loves won’t die as he navigates through the blown-out pieces of mushroom.
“Cody?” Obi-Wan twists, pushing at Anakin to send himself towards Cody and Anakin away. “Please, please respond.”
Obi-Wan had played his part, and now it was time to make it as easy as possible for others to play theirs, but he can’t stop himself from heading towards Cody, looking for movement, and he sees Cody flick his fingers, which could just be - residual - but then the comm clicks on.
“Dropped your fucking lightsaber again. I was handling it.”
Obi-Wan laughs and pulls his lightsaber to him as he collides with Cody.
“I’m afraid I couldn’t exactly reach the ceiling, Cody.”
There’s a hesitation before Cody speaks again, and Obi-Wan doesn’t know why, just keeps on pushing back on Anakin to keep them circling the station. Fourdee will figure out how to pick them up. Or, Force, Radio wasn’t that far out when he’d checked. Anything could happen with the Force. Obi-Wan has never been lucky, but Luke was as loved by the Force as Anakin had been, and Obi-Wan had Luke’s father in his arms, and maybe, just maybe, he could count on a bit of luck. For once. Cody finally speaks again.
“...I’m ’24. Cody can’t handle the migraine.” There’s another hesitation before more comes out. “Push on the ship or we’re going to get captured. Luke is secure?”
Light plays over them, and Obi-Wan tenses, rolling with a slight push to the side to move closer to the station. It’s not ideal, as Maul had gone in that direction, but there’s every indication that they should be able to hide. The roll of the movement turns him around, and he sees that the ship above the two of them has Imperial emblems all over it.
“Kriff. Kriff, I thought Anakin was acting without authorization on his hunt?”
“Luke, Kenobi, is Luke secure?” A hand jerks at Cody’s side- at the chip’s side? That’s not quite right either. He can figure it out later.
“Fourdee has him, and he knows not to get us unless it’s safe. And help is on the way. He’ll be fine.”
Obi-Wan can feel the relaxation, and relaxes himself as he finds a portion of the station that looks like it has experienced decompression before, a twisted maze of fungus with some metal shining through, and he pushes off of the ship to get them in. He’s just grateful that they’re too close to the station for tractor beams.
He waits until he’s heard both of their boots engage magnetization and they’ve gone through a few twists and turns to ask, pausing in a deep nook of fungus. He starts nudging with the Force, urging the fungus to cover them, pulling it off of the walls when necessary.
“How much air do you have?”
“With scrubbers, enough for a day. You?”
Obi-Wan checks on a wrist display.
“Cody appears to have equipped me with the same. Speaking of which, please explain.”
Obi-Wan does his best to sound polite, but he’s not sure he manages, and he has had a very rough day and if Cody turns out to be dead he might have to hunt down Yoda and abdicate the teaching of Luke. The hesitation from the man in front of him doesn’t help.
“... I don’t know how to explain. That’s not my job. Get us a bit safer and let the migraine subside and Cody can explain.”
Obi-Wan has heard stranger things. And if the chip’s somehow not fighting with Cody now, he’s not going to complain. He nods, short and a bit curt.
“Right. The fungus should hide us from Vader, but the ship will have technology to find us, and it’s possible that it will be able to see through the fungus. Luke will be out, even if Fourdee had to tranquilize him.”
“Did Fourdee give any indication as to where the fungus was densest? That will be best for us to hide.”
“It’ll also make it hard for any back-up to find us,” ‘24 points out. “And you’ve used the Force. Prior experience indicates that you will require nutrition soon. But it’s not a bad idea to rest and let the searchers tire themselves out.”
“... Right.” It’s a bit disconcerting that the speech patterns are so different, but Obi-Wan shoves that down. He hasn’t been shot at, and ‘24 does appear to put Luke above everything else, still, so he can work with this.
He follows ‘24 out of the fungus nook, and doesn’t ask how he knows where to go. He? Well, he can ask.
“Do you still use he/him, if you’re not Cody?”
“Yes. You asked about Vader.” He pauses. “Lord Vader. He has not technically been acting with the authorization of the Emperor, but he has not been demoted, either. It would not be surprising, if the Emperor had finally decided to rein him in.”
“At the worst possible time,” Obi-Wan mutters. “Of course.”
“Hardly surprising. He has likely gone too many times causing more damage to the Empire as the Rebels he assumes have his son.”
“Well, that’s hardly difficult, now is it?” Obi-Wan slides through a small opening after ‘24, mind focusing on searching for Anakin. For a moment, Obi-Wan feels a spike of amusement in the Force, but he hears no laughter.
“No. No, it’s not. They’re not very organized, from what I’ve seen, and very badly funded. Although I do respect Bail continuing to demand reparations from Rebel attacks when he is sending them supplies.”
“Yes, we’re quite proud of that.” They pause at an airlock, and Obi-Wan tilts his head at it, pressing a hand in armor to it. “Not online, but we should be able to open it in order to get inside. The other side is also closed.”
“Open it.”
Obi-Wan considers expressing the slight annoyance at his skills being just expected, but he knows that he wouldn’t feel it if the man in front of him was Cody, so he leaves it alone. There’s no reason to make a joke about being willing to accept the Force when you need it. He just reaches out and finds the mechanism and begins to turn it.
“You have access to the Emperor’s account.”
Obi-Wan turns his head to indicate he’s listening, but no more. He doesn’t see where this is going.
“You could be funding the-” ‘24 crumples briefly, pulling himself back up before Obi-Wan can do more than start to reach out to offer a hand. He pauses for a moment, holding a hand to his head. “Nevermind. How close are we to inside? They’re likely deploying troopers to search for us now. And I may have taught some of them.”
“Really? They had you teaching?” Obi-Wan wouldn’t’ve expected that. “Why?”
“Presumably because the Emperor was aware I hadn’t killed you even if I wasn’t, and didn’t trust me in the field.” He shrugs. “Natborns are horrible troopers. No discipline, no stamina, nothing.”
Obi-Wan supposes he should be glad that his face can’t be seen right now. He keeps on turning.
“Pull open the door, and then I’ll close it again.”
‘24 does so, and Obi-Wan starts to work on closing the outer door, focusing on the gears and electronics, because it’s easier than thinking about the atrocities that happened under the Republic, and this isn’t the time to feel guilty about them again.
“So. Teaching Luke?” Obi-Wan hasn’t asked about the past, before, because Cody never wanted to talk about it, but if ‘24 did, he wasn’t against finding out like that.
“No. Teaching, and then I was requisitioned by Vader. Then Luke. Some teaching before leaving with Luke. Teaching Luke. He’s a much better student. He understands the importance of being prepared.”
“Yes, he is a good student, isn’t he.” Obi-Wan continues to turn the mechanism and then stops, eyes widening. “Dampen your signature. Now.” He melds his own into the fungus as best he can, focusing on moisture-nutrition, on slow, slow thoughts, on nothing more than that that fungus considers. When he feels himself being moved to press into the wall, he thinks nothing of it. When a hand shuts off his helmet’s comm, it is like having a breeze of the internal station wash over him.
There is no one here.
There is nothing here.
No. There is something. It reaches to what is offered.
“Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan. He’s gone. He’s gone, come back to the world. Kriff.”
The fungus has welcomed a new person. He has come to them and worked to become one of them. Now he wants to leave, and it does not understand. It is better to be an ever-growing colony. And this new person has skills that should be added, and it is busy dredging through his brain to learn.
“Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan, it’s Cody, come on, come back to me. We still need to get in. I can’t open the door, the air will leak out.”
Air. Yes, there’s bodies in the room. It knows from communing with other beings that bodies need oxygen and so it moves to close off the leak.
“Obi-Wan? That was a very nice trick with the fungus, but we need to get moving. To get moving, I need you to respond to stimuli. With your body, not with fungus. Come on. Please.” The voice gets lower, and the mind the fungus is busy with starts pulling, trying to leave before the fungus is done. It has more to learn. That is the trade. The warm and cold bloods that live quickly inside of it give it their knowledge, and they are safe.
These two have brought much danger, and therefore, it is only fair that the fungus finishes before they move on.
It reaches out to other fast-creature.
There is a crackling brightness over the fast-creature’s mind, painful and sparking at it and the fast-creature winces back, away from the one the fungus is using.
“Fuck! Obi-Wan, fine, we’re moving and you’d better be able to come back, because I don’t think Luke would take kindly to us burning down a whole station for not giving you back.”
The fungus watches with amusement as they begin to move, the fast-creature’s brain flickering between states. It wonders if it could remove the crackling overlay, and prods lightly at it, causing the creature to fall, clutching its head.
It withdraws, and focuses on the knowledge to be gained. These new fast-creatures have taken from the fungus, and now they will give in return.
Obi-Wan can’t feel his fingers or toes. Or his eyeballs. That’s not great. Normally when he can’t feel anything else, he can feel his eyeballs. Even if they feel disgusting. Not feeling anything is a change. He tries to move and thinks he just vaguely flops.
His head hurts. That’s probably a good sign that he still has a head.
“Obi-Wan? Please tell me you’re awake. I have no idea how to handle this.”
He tries to speak and only hears gibberish coming out of his mouth, but it is noise, so he’s probably managing to verify that he’s alive.
“... Right. Okay. Here’s the sitrep. We’re still on the station. I got a message from Fourdee, and apparently Radio arrived with its backup and fought off the Imperial ship. They’re all pretty sure that Lord Vader is still on the station, but Maul was driven off by Tano.” There’s a pause. “Radio found Rex and Tano, apparently. Did you know they were alive?”
Obi-Wan manages to shake his head. He wonders what codename he might have known the two of them under, and if they are with the Rebellion, or just operating on their own.
“Great, well, work on getting your fingers and toes working, we might need to bolt soon. Just glad Ahsoka never got re-inducted. That would be hard.”
“Mm.” Obi-Wan opens his eyes and immediately regrets it because everything is blurry and even the small pinpricks of light make his eyes hurt. “Cody?”
“Yeah.” Cody leans over him and starts checking his vision. Obi-Wan would like to know where he got the kit, but he isn’t sure he wants to ask. “Follow my finger and let me know when this gets blurry.”
“Don’t have a concussion.” Obi-Wan grimaces. “Water? Throat hurts.”
“You can have water when you can manage sitting up, you’re not in danger of dehydrating but you could choke. Don’t become one with fungus again, or I’ll kill you.”
“Wasn’t in the plan, Cody. First time.” Obi-Wan starts tensing and relaxing his muscles, working on getting control again, because he doesn’t really want to be stuck on the floor. He’s pretty sure that the floor is also made of fungus, and he can sense the mind of the fungus watching him, and he would very much like to be able to move in case it decides it wants to keep him.
“Sure, first time. Just like every other time you’ve done something dangerous. You keep on finding new things to do for the first time.”
“S’a big galaxy, Cody. Lots of things to do.” The more Obi-Wan focuses, the more he can feel himself again, and it’s not a very pleasant process but it is necessary. “Help prop me up? Wall?” He works on pushing himself, and although his arms are still weak, Cody helps lift him up and get him against the wall.
“Hi.” Obi-Wan smiles at him. “Can I have the water now?”
Cody hands him a water flask, and Obi-Wan manages to sip from it, slaking his thirst and soothing the dryness in his throat. It doesn’t really help the pain, and he wonders what happened. He doesn’t remember anything past attempting to meld his signature with the fungus.
“How’d we get here?”
“Lord Vader passed us by. I don’t know how you did that. He’s... always managed to find people hiding from him.” Cody breaks eye contact, and Obi-Wan can sense the pain of the memories in his mind. “There was... something. The fungus closed off the area, and I tried to wake you up. Whatever sapience is here prodded at my brain, which hurt.” Cody pauses and cocks his head like he’s listening to someone else before sighing. “Still grammatically correct. Right. Is there anything you can do to stop that from happening again?”
Obi-Wan waggles his hand back and forth.
“Yes? But I don’t believe that the fungus will have any interest unless you offer yourself to it. Which I must have inadvertently done, attempting to copy its signature in the Force. Or perhaps theirs? I didn’t get a strong feeling of gender at all, so I imagine it doesn’t matter. The fungus will likely correct me, if so.”
“Please don’t make the fungus talk to us, Obi-Wan. I really don’t want that.” Cody pinches the bridge of his nose. “... We need to get to Radio and Fourdee. I’m having problems. Nothing immediate, but now that you’re back I need to go, unless you have the energy for some Force healing thing.”
Obi-Wan looks at him with concern. He can sense the pain coming off of Cody, which is already worrisome, as Cody usually shields well enough that it’s much harder to notice what he’s feeling.
“What type of Force healing do you think you need? I can pull together energy, I just need to know for what.”
“... Migraine. More than a migraine, there’s no dazzle-spots or nausea, just pain and disorientation. It’s... sharp. A sudden intense pain. Even ‘24 is certain he won’t be able to handle it much longer, and I don’t think you want to be carrying me around.”
“... Yes. Do I need to be concerned about the fact that there was someone calling himself ‘24 in your body?” Obi-Wan assumes that he does need to be, but also. Also, it’s Cody’s decision to know if he needs help.
“No. We’re working it out. Hopefully. Not sure. Easier to see, probably.” Cody holds out his hand to Obi-Wan, looking just slightly worried.
Obi-Wan hesitates for just a moment, before reaching to take Cody’s hand. If this is a long term plot from the fungus, or a plot of the chip, well, Obi-Wan can blow that ship up when he’s done with it.
“I’ll do what I can.”
Their hands clasp and Obi-Wan stands in a stormy field in front of two people, bruised, battered, and still standing. One of them bleeds from many wounds, and the other is covered in lichtenberg scarring. They’re holding hands. Obi-Wan supposes that’s an improvement from the two of them fighting. One of them reaches out to him, and a surge of lightning crackles from the sky, arcing down towards the group, and Obi-Wan throws a shield over them, wincing as the ground rumbles.
“... I see.” He’s not sure that he does. “I should be able to hold that for a few hours, at least. Will that be enough?”
“Maybe,” one of them says. Obi-Wan, for the first time, experiences the sensation of not knowing who someone is. It’s always harder in mindscapes, but with the focus on the shield, he can’t reach out and determine who’s who. “Get back out of here.”
Obi-Wan tumbles back out and into his own mind, where he’s gained his own headache. It won’t make him stop focusing on shielding.
“Two of you?” He rubs at his head. “I see I’m doomed.”
“Not really two of us, I don’t think. But it’s a fairly new situation.” Cody shrugs and pulls Obi-Wan into a standing position, where he wobbles briefly, having not expected to have to stand yet. “Or, at least. A new way to think of it. We’re working on it. I’m working on it? It’s complicated. Don’t worry about it.”
“That’s never worked on me, but I’ll file it as not immediately life-threatening.” Obi-Wan pulls his hand back and goes through a series of stretches, drawing on the Force to give himself energy. He’d pay it back later. “Right, then. I’m ready to move. We have exfiltration ready?”
“Radio is staying behind. Fourdee has gone back with Luke and Leia, and I wouldn’t count on us heading back in our own ship.”
“I wouldn’t count on Luke putting up with leaving his father behind, Cody.” Obi-Wan smiles at Cody, remembering some of Anakin’s shenanigans when he was even younger. “And you know Fourdee. Let’s assume we might need to corral the children further.”
The answering groan is all the response Obi-Wan needs to know he’s made his point as they start walking through the hallways of fungus, Obi-Wan slipping his helmet back on as they go. He’d like to leave it off, but Cody follows his example and Obi-Wan knows that it’s the better decision, in a place where at any moment they could experience depressurization.
“You’re probably going to see ‘24 again,” Cody warns him, as they start moving. “Even with whatever you just did, it still hurts. And he’s...” Cody rubs at the side of his helmet, and Obi-Wan reaches out to hold his other hand. “Doing his best. Despite the circumstances.”
“I don’t suppose you know what those circumstances are?”
Cody shrugs, armor ringing quietly against itself.
“I imagine you can only run something off of a human brain for so long before it gains a will. He,” Cody corrects himself. “I guess I cared enough about gender that it remained at his start-up? I don’t know.” He rolls his shoulders back, settling the armor into place. “It doesn’t matter. The situation means he’s going to be the better option, soon.
“...Right.” Obi-Wan decides he can go back to war prioritization, and ask questions when they’re not in enemy territory.
The fungus twists and curves in corridors that make no sense to a station layout, and Obi-Wan is forced to wonder if they are, perhaps, in a section that is entirely separate from the station. If they have been separated from metal and unchangeable corridors to a labyrinthine mass. If it keeps on going, he is going to have to threaten the fungus with being eaten. Or perhaps with his lightsaber.
“Do you have a ration bar, Cody?”
“There’s one in your armor’s leg pocket. Cody put it in there.”
Obi-Wan pats down his leg and realizes that yes, there is something in that pocket. Further examination reveals a ration bar, which he starts to eat.
“I’ll have to remember to thank him later.”
“He knows. Despite the fact that it would be easier if he rested, he is paying attention.”
“Easier?” Obi-Wan says it mildly and ignores the fact that if CC-2224 knows everything Cody does, that he would also know it’s the same tone Obi-Wan used on dozens of diplomats. “How so?”
“It’s harder to prevent pain like this. Which he knows, so I don’t pretend to understand it.”
“You’re preventing Cody from experiencing pain? Thank you.”
“I don’t process it the same way. It’s information, and it registers as something closer to visual noise than anything else. It’s likely related to the desire for a well-functioning army, and it is at this moment helping.”
“It’s barbaric,” Obi-Wan mutters. “But I’m glad you can help. So here I am again, benefiting from a damn Sith plot.” He doesn’t let himself consider yet that if there’s another personality inside of Cody, from the chip, that it would be inhumane to force the removal of it. He doesn’t have that type of energy. Just like during the war, he pushes the ethical conundrum away. At least he should be able to consider this before three years pass.
“Stop.” CC-2224 reaches out and flicks Obi-Wan on the forehead, making him pause. “Out of your head. You almost walked into the wall, and that’s not an acceptable level of attention when a Sith Lord is walking around.”
“Quite right, Commander Cody.” Anakin- no, Vader- steps out from a corner, and ignites his lightsaber. Obi-Wan notes in the depths of his own mind that he must have turned off whatever the contraption on the front of his chest is in order to do this, as now the lights flicker back on and the mechanical sounds and ventilated breathing continue. “If only you had also followed that advice.”
“For Force’s sake, we don’t even have Luke,” Obi-Wan snaps. “He’s not here, Anakin.” Obi-Wan takes a deep breath and corrects himself. “Vader. That’s what you want to be called. Fine. I think you’ll find all the mistakes I made raising you were avoided with Luke. You were responsible for that by handing him over. Stop trying to make new, worse mistakes. Are you happy, working for Palpatine? Do you think Luke would be?” Obi-Wan’s voice cracks as he talks, and he realizes he’s ignited his lightsaber. “Do you think any of those children were happy, being tortured by the Inquisitors? Most of them refuse to even touch the Force, now. Does that make you happy? I failed you in so many ways. I’m not going to fail Luke.”
Vader turns off his lightsaber.
“I’m not working for Sidious anymore. I see you’ve been keeping track of my career very well.” Obi-Wan winces at the wave of sarcasm that radiates out from Vader. “You must care so much, Obi-Wan. He was holding me back, and I have abandoned him.”
“Holding you back.” Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow. “Sorry, I thought that- what was it? It was your new Empire? I hate to imagine what you think you’ve been held back from.”
“With Luke, I would have overthrown Sidious, and it would truly have been my Empire. Instead you seduced your old Commander to steal him away.”
CC-2224 snorts.
“That’s not what happened. Not everything is because of Kenobi, sir. You said to place all forms of Luke’s safety above all over orders.”
“I meant to keep him with me while you did so!”
“That’s not what you said. Your exact orders were, and I quote, my child’s safety is now the most important thing in your life, CC-2224. You will safeguard him from all harm, and at whatever cost.” He shrugs. “I did so. This required creative interpretation of other standing orders, and allowed for more free will than expected. You can hardly complain that I followed orders.”
“Then how do you explain him freeing all the initiates the same night you kidnapped Luke?” Vader’s force presence weighs down his words, and Obi-Wan lightly insinuates himself between his former apprentice and ‘24 in the Force to shield him from that pressure. “There are no coincidences.”
“I was unaware that that had occurred. Obi-Wan?”
“Well, you see, when you’re searching the galaxy for one child, it’s very possible that you might end up in that child’s location, especially when you can use the Force.”
“The very same night?”
“Yes. I know that I often said that there are no coincidences, but I’m afraid I was wrong. Feel free to mark the day in your calendar.” Obi-Wan loops his saber in a holding pattern in front of him. “With that misunderstanding cleared up, I believe you should go.”
“No. I wish to see my child.”
“Leave a comm code with us and Luke will decide if he wishes to contact you.” ‘24’s tone is calm, and Obi-Wan can feel it angering Vader, but he still wants it to work. “If that is unacceptable, I have several resources detailing consent and healthy boundary-setting in relationships that I can give to you. Because when handed a child, I did research so that I could care for him.”
Obi-Wan is very glad at that moment that he has practice not showing his amusement, because watching Vader’s body language change to the same chastised pout that he’d often worn when he was still a padawan at the start of the war makes him want to laugh. He doesn’t even know if Vader realizes what he’s doing, falling back into those patterns.
“I made smart decisions with Luke. I retrieved him from Jabba and located suitable childcare since all of the options that Padme and I had researched were no longer available, and did not have the proper security clearance.”
“That’s a really horrible way to decide who to give your child to. Again, I will forward you childcare books, and maybe we can discuss visitation rights.”
Obi-Wan senses the attempt to choke, and slaps Vader down in the Force. He knows his limits, but he won’t let Cody or ‘24 be harmed.
“You can’t choke every problem if you want to see Luke. Is that how you were planning on dealing with teenage rebellion? Choking your son?” Obi-Wan snaps at Vader. “Is that what you took away from Sith teachings? That you should run right over everyone else’s freedoms and desires? Even those you care about? Because that only ends in blood, and death, and you have seen that! You have seen that,” Obi-Wan repeats, desperate.
“If you haven’t learned that, Lord Vader, then I’m afraid we must be going.” CC-2224 picks up the thread of the conversation easily. “I still have my orders. And we must go. You, however, may continue in your attempts to grow as a person and become someone that someone with the best interests of literally anyone else at heart would allow near their loved ones.”
“I would be a very protective father,” Vader said, stiffly. “I would never have allowed Luke to be kidnapped.”
“If it was not for you, Luke would never have been in a situation to be kidnapped. So no, Lord Vader. You would have. You helped make this system. You made sure that he would never grow up with his family or in the creche. Whatever else you think, this is true.” CC-2224 takes a deep breath, and Obi-Wan isn’t sure who speaks next. “You ruined his life before he was born. All that happens now is making him a new one, where he can be happy. Without you. A different life than the one you ruined for us all.” He turns, and walks away, and Obi-Wan, with a glance at the paralyzed Vader, follows.
“Goodbye,” he murmurs. “And if you ever do want to talk, or work on getting better, you do have my comm code.”
“You didn’t change it?” Obi-Wan wonders if he’s reading too much into what is, in the end, an almost non-existent tone, but to him, Vader sounds sad, and hopeful.
“No. I didn’t change it. Not my private comm.”
“... Maybe I will call you, then.”
Obi-Wan nods at him. He wants to stay. He wants to help him. He wants, and what he wants is never important. Luke needs him more, now. He’s failed here already.
He leaves.
On the way out, the station is empty, and he doesn’t know what that means, but assumes the worst. He sighs and leans against a wall, once they’re far enough away from Vader.
“... I don’t think I accepted that he wasn’t Anakin, anymore. Before now. That he changed, and he... I failed him.”
“He made his choices. He kept on making choices. That’s not your fault. Look, I’ll get you to the same therapist that Cody and Luke used, if you need it. She’s discreet, and at this point, used to very restrictive NDAs.”
“... Right. Thank you, ‘24, I’ll take it under advisement. So you’ve been helping Cody, for a while?”
“Yes. I don’t think we would have phrased it like that before, but yes.” ‘24 looks around the empty marketplace, and Obi-Wan follows his gaze.
“It is a bit neat in here, isn’t it? Concerning.”
“There is a possibility of hostages. Do you sense any other presences?”
Obi-Wan reaches out, pushing past the forming headache that lets him know he’s done a bit too much today.
“... All around. People. Some from when we were in the market, some new ones. Some of them... Imperial, but they’re dulled. Dying, maybe. And the others have all opened a channel to the fungus. Or the fungus has opened a channel to them. Given what happened with me, we need to prepare for a fight, and it’s going to be soon.” Obi-Wan sighs. “Nothing is ever easy, is it.”
“Not with you around, no.” Obi-Wan laughs in surprise. ‘24’s tone is light, and Obi-Wan’s pretty sure it’s a joke. “Before you arrived, there was no sapient fungus, and there was certainly no Maul.”
“No, I suppose not. I’d apologize, but none of it is really under my control.” Obi-Wan smiles ruefully at ‘24. “I’m sure Cody would tell you that. Given how much happened during the war.” He freezes. “They’re moving. Get ready.”
‘24 unholsters his blaster, and Obi-Wan’s hand hovers over his lightsaber as people begin to step out behind pillars of fungus. There’s even more than he realized, on this station, and his eyes widen in slight horror as he realizes that half of the bodies in front of him are overgrown with fungus.
“Did you sense Nightsisters?”
Obi-Wan shakes his head.
“No. Nothing like that.”
The fungus creatures speak as one, mouths not bothering to open and the walls vibrating with the sound.
“You have brought pain, death, and destruction. We have been hurt, we have been attacked, and our people have been hurt.” They point at Obi-Wan, who flinches back. “You. Your sacrifice is not enough.”
CC-2224 turns to look at him, and Obi-Wan can sense the annoyance.
“What did you sacrifice, Kenobi?”
Obi-Wan holds his hands up in the galactic symbol of surrender.
“Nothing! Nothing that I know about! I know my mind was rummaged through, but I didn’t give anything away besides knowledge, as far as I know.”
“Kenobi, how would you know if you’d lost knowledge?”
Obi-Wan blinks and thinks about it.
“I suppose I wouldn’t. But there’s more important things at the moment, aren’t there! What did I sacrifice, would you be willing to tell me?”
The fungus creatures laugh.
“We shared in your knowledge. You still have it. But with everything that has happened, we must demand that one stay behind.”
“Would you accept Lord Vader?” ‘24 looks around. “I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up yet. I’m sure he would be quite protective, and it would be good for him.” Obi-Wan winces at pain washes from the shield he constructed to him, nearly sending him to his knees, and ‘24 gasps quietly. “... No. I can’t allow that, actually.”
“The dark one has already left, cutting through even more of our self, and nearly killing some of our people.”
Waves of pain are still radiating to Obi-Wan, so he looks for something to delay. He can’t read the people in front of him, connected to the fungus as they are, no more than he could read the fungus, but there is a play he can try.
“Is this how you get all your people?” He looks at the faces he can see, trying to read them in a way he hasn’t had to since he was in the creche. “Kidnapping them from visitors to the station-”
“No!” Obi-Wan is interrupted by the twi’lek from earlier. “No, we weren’t kidnapped. We work with the fungus! It protects us! We don’t need to worry about hull breaches, which is good when people like you come in and blow the station with no thought!”
“Yeah!” Other people start to speak up now, and Obi-Wan sees that no, there is no help there. “We live here, and we feed it the compost, and bring in what it needs, and when we die, sometimes it takes our bodies.”
“Yeah!” The twi’lek picks up the thread again. “And you came in, and you brought Imperial attention down on us! The Republic abandoned us, and the Empire ignores us, and you ruined that! We’re going to have to move! So if it needs something, you pay that price.”
“What do you want, then? More knowledge? Money to help with movement?” ‘24 speaks with a strained voice, and Obi-Wan winces under his helmet at the bolt of pain that echoes through him. “We have resources.”
“No.” The fungus on the walls crawls around the two of them, and Obi-Wan automatically steps closer to ‘24 to prevent any separation. “No, we require a sacrifice of time. One of you must stay.”
“For how long?” Obi-Wan steps forward. “Or will this be your first kidnapping?”
“A few years. No longer, unless you die. You, however, are not an option. We also want knowledge. And we have taken yours.”
“You just want me, then. Why not say it?” CC-2224 sounds upset. Obi-Wan thinks, idly, in the part of his brain that is maybe going into shock, that it’s a pity that only now, when this has happened, is he seeing emotion from the chip. “Or do you just enjoy the reactions?”
“It is nice to see new reactions. And this is the first time we have considered this punishment. Well?”
“No!” Obi-Wan interjects, gripping the hilt of his lightsaber tightly. “He has a son, he can’t- he’s needed elsewhere.”
“But I’m not,” CC-2224 says, and Obi-Wan turns in shock. “And it’s temporary.”
“We can’t-” Obi-Wan can’t even vocalize the risks of that. Brain surgery, followed by- what. More brain surgery? It wouldn’t work. “You’ve got the same body.”
‘24 turns to the fungus creatures.
“Do you want a body, or just a mind?”
Their heads tilt in unison, and they laugh.
“A mind.”
“Then you take me.” The chip, ‘24, speaks firmly. “We bring in a droid who’s waiting for us, and the chip gets removed. You let Cody and Kenobi go. Acceptable?”
“Acceptable. We will allow the ships that have been attempting to dock inside.”
And Obi-Wan watches in horror as ‘24 reaches out his hand and shakes on the deal.
Notes:
Edited in: Please enjoy my fungus station it's just having a time. It just wants to get repaid for this mess. Maybe it wants a brain, but like, who wouldn't if the person was a conglomeration of fungus and metal and dead people
Chapter 13: From my heart and from my hand why don't people understand my intentions?
Summary:
Fourdee's been looking forward to (and hoping to put off) this moment for ages. CC-2224 is happy to take advantage of that, even if Cody would rather he didn't.
Many things come to a head in Cody's head.
Notes:
Hi! There’s a lot going on! If you would like to avoid Fourdee’s questionable morals and some light discussion of brain surgery, skip from “Fourdee can finally get down to business” to “Cody wakes up”. It really is decently light- no gore, just Fourdee’s definitely ethical desires for long-term experiments.
Also, it's Fourdee's turn on musical titles.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
No, Cody tells ‘24, even as he shakes hands with what Cody is quite comfortable calling a zombie, based on too many regrettable experiences around Jedi and Sith. Stop being such an idiot. We’re not going to sacrifice you. Obi-Wan wouldn’t allow it, anyways. Not now that he knows you’re a person. And Luke would be upset. It’s a low blow, and Cody knows it, but frankly, he doesn’t care. You know that. He’s already going to need to go back in therapy for being kidnapped. Do not say it’s efficient to then also get it for you.
“We barely knew until recently,” ‘24 subvocalises, to avoid anyone else listening in on their conversation. He follows the zombie down the corridor, and out of the corner of their eyes Cody sees Obi-Wan following them. “Besides, we can’t leave you behind. That’s not how this works. You’re the one in the brain, and I doubt Luke would do any better with an empty body for three years. Although I suppose it’s possible to somehow give me a droid-type brain, it would be inefficient to do so and it is unlikely that anyone nearby has the facilities for that.”
I don’t care, Cody snaps. He knows he’s being sullen, but it’s his own damn brain and he’ll do as he pleases since they’re already dealing with pain from the chip, and he wants to express emotion. Just because we’ve only just realized you’re a person doesn’t mean you’re not important. It doesn’t mean you haven’t helped over the years, even without anyone noticing. Abandoning you just now is- reprehensible.
“11-4D probably has the actual numbers on when I became a person instead of a program. If we can argue that that happened, and that I’m not simply a program that’s gotten too complex. Like a droid that never got reset.” CC-2224 tilts his head down in Cody’s mannerism as he realizes something. “We didn’t realize they’d put even rudimentary personality matrices in the chips. Just the orders.”
And? Are you going to tell me that Radio or Fourdee would’ve been an acceptable sacrifice? Just because they technically should have been reset and never have been? If anything, it should be even more impressive, what you’ve become.
“No.” They both ignore the pain from the orders that they can’t be forced to follow anymore. “Besides, you won’t need me. You won’t be in pain. And you can train Luke just fine yourself. Besides, you have Obi-Wan, and he’s not exactly going to leave you.” CC-2224 knows he sounds amused inside his own head at that, even if subvocalizations don’t lend themselves to tone. “Maybe you can do more cuddling on the couch, without me in the way.”
They hear a quiet pained noise from Obi-Wan that doesn’t coincide with any of the rippling waves of pain from the chip.
Radio might be able to reprogram away the orders, Cody tries. And then it would just be you, and we’d be fine. We can fight our way out. Obi-Wan and I have fought our way out of worse. And Rex and Ahsoka are here as well. Afterwards, we could figure out our own rules for comfort levels with things like… well. The couch. None of this is a good reason to excise you.
“That just means Luke’s probably convinced everyone to bring him back.” ‘24 raises his voice to catch Obi-Wan’s attention. “Kenobi. Can you sense Luke?”
He turns to look at Kenobi, who lifts a hand to reach out, eyes closed, and ‘24 sighs before wrapping an arm around Kenobi to guide him.
Thank you.
“Don’t mention it,” he mutters.
“What?”
“Not you. Did you find Luke?” Obi-Wan sighs and nods. “Kriff. Where is he?”
“He’s right in the docking bay. As I suspected, he’s wormed his way back.” Obi-Wan pauses. “I thought you said Maul had left? Because of Ahsoka?”
“Last I heard he had, yes. Why?”
Cody groans internally.
He’s probably come back to fight her again. He reacts badly to being beaten. Namely, declaring whoever did it his nemesis.
“I don’t suppose you’d accept the zabrak instead?” Obi-Wan walks forward to one of the zombies. “He is the reason we’re all actually here, you know. He kidnapped this man’s son.”
“There does appear to be some disagreement on whose son he is,” the fungus says. “The one called Vader said that also. But the child does appear to agree that you and the Commander are his parents.”
Kenobi flushes and stammers, and ‘24 rolls his eyes. It’s been clear for a while that Luke had adopted Kenobi.
“Does that mean you might accept him, then? Since he isn’t related to Luke at all and is the one who brought us here?”
“He was actually quite respectful, and offered us two whole banthas in recompense for possible damages. So no. All the damage was not started by him. And he has already agreed to bring in four more banthas, assuming that he wins his current fight.”
“Remarkably thoughtful for Maul,” Kenobi says. “Has he been here before?”
“No. He simply said that there was something nostalgic about me.”
Seems about right, Cody interjects, even if it’s only to ‘24. He would never be helpful. Even unknowingly. Besides, if you painted the whole place red, wouldn’t it look a bit like Dathomir’s swamps?
“You’re not wrong,” ‘24 subvocalises to Cody, before raising his voice again. “It’s fine,” ‘24 tells him and Kenobi. “Stop maundering about it. This is the rational move and sacrifice, and if the two of you can’t manage for three years without me, then there’s bigger problems.”
“If Cody’s telling you that you’re not an acceptable sacrifice, you might as well agree with him,” Kenobi tells him, sounding tired. “He never listened to me, either. And I agree with him, in this case.”
“Luckily, I suspect Tano and-” ‘24’s throat closes off as the orders settle in, as well as Cody’s revulsion at using a serial number for a clone that’s picked a name. “Her friend,” he finally manages to settle on. “Tano and her friend will agree that I’m an acceptable sacrifice.”
Rex - a bolt of pain rushes through both of them. It’s getting worse, Cody and CC-2224 note absently, and the pain comes and goes as if the chip is flicking on and off. It makes sense. Years of stress, fights, and head trauma, followed by whatever illegal taser Organa’s guards had had must have shaken something loose. He wouldn’t if I told him I wanted differently. He’d respect my choice.
“Then it’s good you won’t.” ‘24 pauses, rifling through memories. “It would hurt him as well, the idea of you bound to orders.”
I could still convince him, and he would understand eventually.
“And then he’d see how much pain you’re in anyways, and override you.” CC-2224 stands complacently as the fungus begins to pull back a door that he believes should open to their ship.
“It’s still wrong,” Obi-Wan says quietly. “It’s all so wrong.”
“It’s the life we have. And without it, Cody and I wouldn’t exist.” He walks through the doors, ignoring the gasps from Tano and from her friend. He likely does look a mess, crusted blood on his armor smeared with fungus and the unique sort of gunk that stations accumulate. “I speak for both of us when I say we’d rather have had this chance to be alive.”
He pulls away from the fungus and Kenobi to walk up to 11-4D, standing a bit apart from everyone else, as is his norm when Luke is not present. To do so, he has to shake off concerned arms that reach out to him.
CC-2224 has always been good at avoiding what others are saying, and the people talking to him become a blur of sound until Kenobi pulls them back, and even Cody doesn’t bother trying to convince him anymore, resigned to ‘24’s fate.
Fourdee nods his head as ‘24 approaches. “CC-2224,” he says, eyes whirring quietly as he scans them. “You want me to do something. Something that you have convinced Kenobi of, somehow, but he doesn’t want it either.”
“I need you to remove me.”
11-4D ceases movement for a moment, before leaning in with a sudden fluid movement.
“How interesting. Did you make a deal with this creature? It’s controlling the whole station, in a quite interesting manner. I took several samples.”
“We made a deal to be allowed to leave. Me, the chip, removed and given to it for a few years. It lets us leave. I’m malfunctioning anyways.”
“I’d noticed.” Fourdee says it flippantly, and neither ‘24 nor Cody care that Fourdee didn’t think to offer them pain medication. It never worked, with the chip. “You’ve been experiencing pain even when not going against any of the programmed orders, yes?”
“Yes.” ‘24 hesitates for a moment. “Removing the chip will leave all of Cody, right? He won’t be harmed?”
“Oh, no. Brain surgery always has risks, of course, but I am quite prepared for this eventuality. I can remove the chip quite cleanly without any damage to the surrounding area.” 11-4D laughs, quietly. “This will be very interesting. Thank you for this opportunity, CC-2224, Cody.”
Of course you went to Fourdee.
‘24 doesn’t feel any need to respond to that.
Fourdee never gives a damn about complete consent. I didn’t agree to this, ‘24. I don’t. Cody pauses, before sighing. But I appreciate it. And I’ll miss you. And I regret not getting to know you more, and realizing you were with me.
“You can come back and find me in a few years.”
And what will you be then, without my physical brain to scaffold you? Someone completely new? Will you still know me, and remember me?
CC-2224 ignores the argument taking place in his own brain and the one taking place behind him, the raised voices of all of Cody’s friends in the ship bay quite nicely drowning out Cody and his worries. ‘24 has different priorities, in any case.
“Where’s Luke, 11-4D?”
“Oh, Ahsoka Tano tied up and captured Maul with Force-dampening cuffs, and now Luke is being ‘very very sad' at him about being kidnapped.” 11-4D utilizes finger quotes properly. “Don’t worry, he has one of Tano’s lightsabers with him.”
Cody claws his way into control at that.
“He is not going to be doing that anymore, who allowed that? Fourdee, did you allow that?” Cody’s voice raises in what he refuses to admit is slight panic. “Luke should not be talking to Maul. Are you letting Leia talk to Maul? Because he did kidnap both of them-”
There’s a pinch of a needle in his neck and ‘24 laughs quietly at him as they’re both pulled under, and Cody refuses to admit even as he passes out that it had been an excellent distraction.
11-4D, nicknamed Bag of Bolts, Waste, Polite Bot, Shackle, Annoyance, Eleven, and most recently Fourdee, catches the Commander as he falls. Fourdee is almost sad that the long experiment is over now, but he hoists the man over his shoulder all the same, and sighs as the bot that Luke had also nicknamed, Radio, stomps over.
“You can’t just-” it pauses, and recalibrates. It’s been doing that a lot, talking to him. “Did you get fully informed consent from Cody and the chip?”
Fourdee transmits a smile to Radio, and starts walking.
“Have the fleshy ones finished arguing?”
“Of course not,” Radio says, annoyance dripping from its words. “When do they ever? My human and togruta don’t understand why your human is so upset.”
“Kenobi isn’t my human. My human is Luke Skywalker, and I just take care of his humans as well.” Fourdee could almost be offended. Radio is another medical droid, and it should know how it works. “Besides, they’re both medically very interesting, so it’s no real problem.”
“Jedi are, yes. How is Cody interesting?”
“I’m sorry,” Fourdee says, purposefully dropping all the smugness that it’s saved up into the electronic buffer, “but I’m afraid that you’re not registered as having access to his medical files. So I couldn’t tell you, even if I wanted to. And I don’t. I’m the one who’s spent time analyzing him and his brain.”
“Osik,” Radio snaps. “Rex had access to Cody’s medical files during the war, and that access was never rescinded. Legally, either we’re in Empire Space, where both Rex and I belong to Ahsoka Tano, and therefore all three of us share access to his medical files, or we’re in Hutt Space, where Ahsoka Tano and I belong to Rex. Either way, I get medical file access.”
Fourdee takes a moment to access the legal files that Radio drops to him.
“Is that how the three of you have worked around running around Empire space with Rex? Saying he was a gift for service?”
“Only if people ask. Otherwise, they’re siblings. I’ve told them a more consistent cover would help, but they don’t listen. Flesh fallibility, but they both have much better stress levels when they can pretend to be siblings.”
“Yes, outside of higher-ranked Empire officials and people who work well with the Hutts, humanoids tend towards disgust when exposed to slavery.”
“It is perplexing, yes.” Radio transmits a shrug, in the droid-to-droid gesture of what can you do about humanoids and their double standards. “Don’t distract me. Legally speaking, I still have access to Commander Cody’s medical files.”
“Yes.” Fourdee will admit that point, even if it pains him. “But legally speaking, you don’t have access to CC-2224’s files. And they’re rather intertwined, at this point, so until you get documented consent from CC-2224, I would be trampling all over your clearly defined morals if I shared any information. Therefore, you will have to wait.”
Fourdee shifts Cody in his arms and strokes a hand over his head, already looking forward to all the new data he will get. It also helps him ignore Radio’s annoyance despite the rather rude transmissions that it continues to send out.
“I should be present during the surgery. As secondary doctor-on-file, and to provide second opinions.”
“Well, if you must. I will admit I don’t have all of my arms at the moment, so an extra set would be helpful.” That doesn’t mean Fourdee wants Radio there, but it should still be simple to send it away. You don’t spend decades with Sith Lords without learning a few things. “You’ve loaded up on how to perform brain surgery on clones?”
“Yes. I pirated the remaining GAR data, and Captain Rex was happy to share the datastick he had on it with me. Unless Cody has experienced significant shifts in his brain, I would dare to suggest that I would be the better one to perform the surgery.”
Fourdee closes the door, after checking to make sure that the organics still haven’t noticed. And they haven’t. It’s one of the perks of being a droid, being ignored. Radio locks the door, which Fourdee does appreciate. It may have some stupid moral programming that it hasn’t discarded, but it also knows that having brain surgery interupted is a bad idea.
He’s pretty sure Kenobi has all the door codes, though, so it might take more than that. Fourdee’s life is hard and unappreciated in his time. But when his time-delayed manuscripts are published, he will be appreciated.
Fourdee loads up droid-to-droid short range frequency transmission for more than emotions, and pings Radio, who looks in interest and responds on the same frequency, inaudible to everyone but the two of them.
“Yes? What’s so important you don’t want anyone to hear?”
“The chip is likely broken. Cody and CC-2224 have been experiencing migraines and debilitating physical pain as a result, and have been able to shake off orders.” Fourdee sighs dramatically. “I was looking forward to studying them and seeing how they managed to coexist when one of them wasn’t forcing the other to work within the boundaries of orders.”
“Back up.” Radio attempts to take Cody from Fourdee, and Fourdee holds him closer. Cody and CC-2224 are his fun humans, not Radio’s. If Radio wanted to keep them, it should have stayed with them. “Fourdee, I need you to explain more. If the chip is broken, what are we handing over to the station?”
“The chip. It’s really a quite fascinating ploy.” Fourdee moves with Cody over to the medical bay, and gets to strapping him down. “You see, I’ve been monitoring his brain ever since I met up with them. It was part of my list of conditions if he wanted me to stick around.”
“That was never going to work as a long term threat.” Radio rolls its eyes. “You would have wanted to stick around for Luke, anyways.”
“Well, yes. But he didn’t know that. Do you know how far back the science of Force users was set back, when the Temple fell?” Fourdee plays a recording of Cody’s sigh. “I never got to pirate any of it. There was no way I was going to pass that up.”
“So you’ve been monitoring Cody’s brainwaves.”
“Yes. You’re seen personality matrices, presumably. How small would you say they are?”
Radio transmits a frown along with its answer. “Roughly the size of a human eyeball. And that was B-series droids. They barely had anything worth mentioning.” It thinks for a millisecond, and Fourdee is getting impatient when it finally responds. “I see.”
Fourdee nods as he sets up the scanner, and has it display the tiny, paper-thin chip within Cody and CC-2224’s head. The chip that would certainly be able to hold data, and force responses, but would never be able to hold a living personality.
“Yes.” Fourdee enlarges the scanner, a labour of love that picked the chip up now without any difficulty. “Ah, there’s what I suspected.” He traces a line down the screen, and swings it around to Radio so that it can see the slight line traced down the center. “We’ll have to patch that up so that nothing’s immediately noticeable. Even if the fungus has no medical knowledge, that would be suspicious.”
“Fuck,” Radio transmits. “We’re scamming a giant sapient fungus that could easily trap us here. I need to chivvy the organics along so they’ll actually be ready to go, then.”
“If you don’t mind, and you’re done annoying me,” Fourdee agrees. It will also make the surgery easier. “I’m rather needed here, and I have nearly triple-digits in brain surgeries conducted across multiple species. So if you’ve reassured yourself that I’m not committing medical malpractice, then get out.”
“Fine.” Radio throws up its hands and leaves, although it leaves the connection open.
Fourdee can finally get down to business.
He had hoped to put this day off. There was so much to document, still, and in his ideal world he could have had a control Cody without the chip, and then two Codys with the chip. But even with cloning it was impossible to create exact duplicates down to experiences, brain pathways, emotions, and body. So Fourdee would work with what he had, and a one-person study was still medically significant. He carefully shaves a strip of Cody’s hair off the closest to the chip that he can get.
If he did have to pick one point in time to have been able to look at Cody’s brain, it would have been just before Order 66 went out. He could see the pathways that had been forcefully overlaid, but the previous pathways were at that point past his ability to reconstruct. He very much wanted to see the moment where the chip forced the rewriting.
Well, to be honest, Fourdee wanted to see all of it, but almost no one was willing to let a droid scan their brain at all times of day and night, and there was in any case no way to imitate the days of trauma that Cody had gone through while his brain was suddenly forced into the elasticity of someone younger. While there were always outliers, he suspected that would be the best way to go about it. As he thinks, Fourdee sets up the medical sanitation field, waiting for it to indicate readiness as the mess on Cody’s face is cleaned up and dumped into waste.
No way that he would be able to imitate Cody’s circumstances without first solving the perfect simulation problem. And if he solved that he wouldn’t need organics anymore, and the surprises were some of the best parts of organics. Fourdee could also admit that he would be unable to properly imitate the Force, but it just seemed like an annoyance that ruined his predictions, so that wasn’t worrying.
Fourdee extends the scalpel from one of his fingers and begins. It was, of course, possible that with CC-2224 being recognized as his own being by everyone else, Fourdee would be able to ask him for permission to keep on scanning his brain. He would have to ask. Perhaps if ‘24 did it, he might even be able to convince Luke to let Fourdee scan him while he entered the state of Oneness. Fourdee hummed quietly in tune with the sanitization field as he began, making the necessary cuts and pulling back the layers.
Brains were always the best part of a humanoid to operate on. All so unique, and giving him a chance to pull out his most complex fingers, that expanded into long thin wires that he could manipulate with ease.
Fourdee held the area open carefully, clamping down very gently around the scalp, and couldn’t help but sigh happily. The chip isn’t quite broken, so he’ll be able to extract it easily. More importantly, he can see where slight damage had begun on the brain, presumably from misfires, as it appears to be entirely new. Just like he had expected. A confirmed hypothesis is one of the most beautiful things in the world, and he makes sure to get the scene from all angles, in the highest definition possible.
Fourdee wants to take his time, but the longer he takes the more likely it is that one of the organics will come in here, and then he’ll have to have an argument with them, and it’s not worth it. So he just records as much as he can, so that he can replay it in the future. Perhaps he can convince CC-2224 that he needs some exploratory brain surgery to make sure that Fourdee didn’t miss any fragments of the chip.
He carefully places it in a tube of bacta, and slides the tube of bacta into his chest storage. He can hand it over like this. The fungus likely has a process for absorption, in any case.
While in his chest, he analyzes the chip, scanning it. He can’t make a copy in the time he has, but he does have the time to analyze it for everything else. The reaction Luke would have if he found out Fourdee had a full copy of the chip isn’t worth it, anyways.
Fourdee squints slightly as he begins leaving a trail of bacta around Cody and CC-2224’s brain. He might be able to get a full copy and just keep it in his own data bank, if he hurries. He extends appendages inside his own chest and creates a partition to plug into the chip and copy it as he scans the architecture. Between the two, he should be able to recreate it.
Then he can study it all he wants, break down the rules and how it would interact with the brain. Fourdee begins to sing, the only way he does now, as he puts the brain back together. The instrumentation in the walls whirrs in tune with him, and the harmonies he makes are sweeter than any other song he had been forced into performing before.
He sings, until they finally come for him, the organics surrounding him, and then he’s quiet as he works, coaxing the brain to heal into the new space, figuring out where to lay bacta and where to lay reinforcements so that the sudden loss of matter will cause no setbacks to CC-2224 or Cody.
“What the kriff is he doing, Radio?”
“I’m sorry, Ahsoka, but he has more experience with the brain than I do, and I thought it best to prevent interference to the actual surgery.”
“We still should have been here to supervise!” The togruta’s arm swings out, and Fourdee deftly moves an arm to block it, just in case she gets any closer. “Look at him! Did you even ask Cody if he wanted brain surgery, Fourdee?”
“No, don’t be ridiculous.” Fourdee frees an arm for a nonchalant wave. “Cody isn’t the one being affected. I can piece a brain back together in perfect condition. I’m even avoiding finally replacing his leg’s prosthetic port, see? Perfectly legal.” He also doesn’t have the parts here, but that’s not important, and Fourdee has always been glad that Force-Sensitives don’t get any practice in reading droid minds.
“Ahsoka- if the chip wanted out, that’s still good. We couldn’t exactly let him around you otherwise.” Fourdee mentally tags the other clone, notes the dyed hair, and moves on. “Vader’s already left. There’s no one to strong arm into recalling the order.”
“I can’t believe you, Rex! This is impromptu brain surgery in the equivalent of a back alley clinic when it does not need to happen! We had a plan!” The togruta takes a calming breath as Kenobi sets his hand on her shoulder, and ceases moving her arms. “We could still fight our way out, if we needed.”
“Yes, we could.” Kenobi says that softly, and for once Fourdee appreciates how he can calm down a room. “But ‘24 decided to make this sacrifice for us, and the best thing we can do is honor it.”
They keep talking, but Fourdee tunes them out and sends a mental nudge to Radio to let it know that he needs a bit more stability around the table.
Fourdee is nearly certain that Radio is enjoying itself, watching as he is forced to dance around the organics, but none of them is Luke (most likely successfully argued that even he could beat Maul, as injured as he currently is) and none of them is Cody (unconscious, on the table) so he does not have to obey them.
It’s like they’ve never seen brain surgery done before.
Fourdee finally decides he’s had enough, and activates the bone saw. He doesn’t need it, but none of them know that.
“Ahsoka, perhaps we should go talk to Luke? I’m sure he’d love to hear any stories you have to tell, and Leia’s probably run out of ways to dress down Maul, by now. Speaking of which, where did you find double sets of Force restraints?”
Kenobi manages to gently herd the togruta out of the way, and the clone at least settles against a wall with the two of them gone, watching with sharp eyes. Typical of organics, not trusting when he’s in the middle of a very important surgery.
Fourdee is just glad that he removed the chip before they all piled in. He’s not had to justify why it’s in his chest. He checks on the scanning process, and nearly smiles when he finds that he is almost done getting all the data he needs to make a copy.
The surprise and disgust from the corner when he has a specific paste that will solidify and mimic bone is just hurtful, or would be, if he cared.
“You have bacta. Why not just use that? Or is there something extra in it?”
“No. It’s simply more effective with bone. The something extra comes after, and it’s just for his comfort.”
He finishes patching up the incision, and as the something extra, rubs on some gel he got off the holonet that’s supposed to encourage hair to grow back. Never let it be said that he does not consider the patient’s needs, even if he usually promptly ignores them.
Radio finally helps shoo probably-Rex away after it takes the chip from inside his chest, and likely the two of them go to handle negotiations and exiting the fungus’s domain.
Fourdee doesn’t care. He has brain activity to monitor, and a delicious new hoard of data to arrange and label.
The organics can handle everything else, and he will handle his patient.
Cody wakes up. The ship’s engine is humming, so they must be in transit. Closer in, there’s the hum of a sterilization field that must be working overtime since Cody hadn’t had time to get around cleaning the ship in a year, and he really couldn’t hire someone to do it.
The lights aren’t humming. So it’s safe to open his eyes. He’s not sure he wants to, though.
He expected that something would feel different, once the chip was removed. During the brief period of time before he had curled up and did his best not to look, there had been a pressure like he was being slowly squashed out of existence, and the best he could do was curl up and try to take it. And that had been his life, for years, although the pressure had slowly abated.
Eventually, when he had spent time doing things again, in control of the body, he had felt like the weight was shared, and he had assumed that it was just the fact that he was also ordered to take care of Luke.
Now he wonders if that had been ‘24. He flinches away mentally from the space where he expects to find nothing, and relaxes when he realizes there’s still something there. He’s not alone, somehow, even if this feels different, now.
He sighs, quietly, and finally opens his eyes. The world resolves into Fourdee standing over him, his eyes’ soft glow the only thing that’s lighting up the room. It’s still a bit much.
“Do not touch the monitoring equipment, Cody.” Fourdee grabs Cody’s hand before he realizes he’s moving it. “It will be a vital part of the healing process.”
Cody looks at him, tired. “No. You just want my brain waves.”
“I also want ‘24’s brain waves, and he’s always consented. Or are you going to ignore his wishes?”
“That’s emotional manipulation,” Cody says absently, before processing the rest of the sentence. “Why don’t I feel different as I expected? And before you ask- wait.” Cody’s brain continues to feed him information on slight delay. “Maul. Is Luke safe by my standards?”
“Luke is safe by your standards. Leia is in the middle of debating with him about the relative merits of the Light and Dark side, and pointing out several logical uses of technically Light powers.” Fourdee pats his hand softly. “He’s having fun acting as a referee, and Ahsoka Tano is waiting right outside the room. They are on the other ship, but that’s acceptable.”
“Right.” Cody stares at the ceiling. “Who’s on this ship?”
“Just Kenobi and myself. Everyone else took the other ship. I believe this is because they all panicked about the yelling from the hold. However, it was just Luke and Leia having an argument about ethics.”
“Right.” Cody almost expects a headache to start forming, but it doesn’t. So at least there’s that. “Back up a moment, thought. You mentioned ‘24.”
“Oh, yes.”
At that moment, Cody nudges, unable to stop himself, needing to know, once again expecting an open ache and relaxing at the sense of sleepiness and a mental equivalent of burrowing under the covers. ‘24 is there, and Cody doesn’t understand how, and he doesn’t really need to, he supposes. He takes a deep breath, and exhales it.
“He’s still here?”
“A chip the size of a credit chip can hardly hold a full, functioning individual on it. My personality matrix, despite using the most cutting edge technology available, is multiple orders of magnitude larger than even a B-series droid, and a B-series droid has a personality matrix that is once again multiple orders of magnitude larger than the chip.”
Cody sighs. “And you didn’t bother mentioning that before.” Despite the fact that it could have let Cody tip the calculations on getting the chip out. He doesn’t know why he bothers being surprised anymore. There’s nothing that he would have been able to change, really. Not in the end. “There’s nothing else implanted in my brain?”
“There is some bacta and some slight scaffolding to help prevent complications while you are healing, but nothing that would impair or change you or ‘24.” Fourdee pats his shoulder. “But you should leave the monitoring equipment on for a few days to make sure.”
Cody mentally translates Fourdee into only needing that for a day to be certain.
“I’ll let it stay on for a week if I’m allowed to take it off for up to two hours a day at my discretion.”
“Are you planning something, Cody?” Fourdee tilts his head back and forth very quickly and Cody is deeply afraid that he is attempting to wiggle his eyebrows. “Because as your surgeon, I should inform you that you are to keep to very light activity.”
“Kriff you,” Cody says, and is surprised when something the chip doesn’t shut that down. But there isn’t anyone he or ‘24 would consider a superior here, so it might not have activated. He’ll figure it out.
“No. Light activity. Or do you want me telling Luke that you’re trying to do everything that you normally would but after invasive brain surgery?”
Cody glares at Fourdee. He is not feeling motivated to remain in this bed, and is remembering how he used to get yelled at by medics. He doubts he can deflect attention to Obiwan now.
“I can at least stand and walk around.”
“Likely. Nothing that I did should affect your motion. But even so, you should still be assisted while you walk.”
Cody sighs, and knows that if he doesn’t accept this, he will get a disappointed look from everyone.
“Fine. How far away are we from Alderaan?” He needs to know how much school Luke’s missed, how much they’re going to have to catch up, how much damage control. He’ll also need to know just how likely it is that they need to move. Again.
He clenches his jaw on a hitch in his breath that he hasn’t had to consciously suppress in ages, and rubs at his face. He and ‘24 are going to figure out what had actually been the chip, now. Figuring that out, and possibly moving... he doesn’t want to think about it. He’ll wait until he has to pull out the contingency plans, and then they can figure it out together.
Notes:
So! I would like to thank my beta reader, a friend who is a system and was willing to come in and help me make sure I was writing Cody and ‘24 with proper sensitivity. That said, yes, to be clear, Cody and ‘24 are a system, similar to real life DID systems. For general questions about DID systems, I’ll refer everyone to this carrd: https://plurality-hub.carrd.co/#directory
Also, now people who got me saying I couldn’t really comment but was rubbing my gay hands together, I can talk now!
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