Chapter Text
Obi-Wan woke to the sound of someone trying to tear the door to his quarters down. He successfully managed to wrap himself into one of his maroon robes before stumbling to the entrance and opening it up, only to see Jedi Master Quinlan Vos trip over the threshold, practically falling into the room.
“It’s Benduday morning, for Force’s sake, Vos,” Obi-Wan grumbled.
“Which is exactly why I didn’t just break in,” Quinlan retorted, raising his hand, waving a bag of pastries as a truce offering. “Come on, Obi, I come bearing gifts.”
Since he was already up, Obi-Wan had no choice but to accept the fate the Force had bestowed upon him – which apparently entailed having breakfast in Vos’s company. He put the kettle on, then rummaged around for a box of tea leaves in the cupboard, looking for a sort rich in caffeine. He had a feeling he could use the extra energy for the conversation that was about to unfold.
He leaned his hips against the small kitchen counter.
“I take it this isn’t a social call,” he remarked, waiting for the water to boil and watching the other Jedi get comfortable at the table.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Quinlan bit into a pale blue bun that distinctly smelled of cardamom while offering the other one to Obi-Wan. “It’s peacetime, Kenobi! We’re not being dragged around on missions every two seconds.”
But Obi-Wan knew the other Jedi a little too well, and his voice held a feigned innocence that suggested he had a hidden agenda. It might not be related to a mission, but he did not just pop by for a cup of tea.
His assumption proved to be correct because as soon as he placed two cups on the table and filled them up with hot water, the Kiffar Jedi had enough of skirting around and broached the subject he was no doubt eager to discuss.
“So, have you read it?”
Obi-Wan considered pretending he had no idea what Vos was referring to but it would have been a futile attempt. He had found a novel in his quarters a few days ago with a brief note – not that the latter held any extra information, it only said ‘Enjoy’. It would have been clear who the culprit had been even without the message, no one else would have gone through the trouble of sneaking into his quarters only to leave behind a book like a lunatic.
“I’ve skimmed through it,” he said resignedly.
“It’s on your bedside table,” Quinlan pointed out.
Obi-Wan suppressed a scowl, silently cursing Vos’s keen eye. “It’s hundreds of pages long, I do have other things to do.”
He purposely did not admit that he had spent most of his free time hunched over the ominous novel, feeding on the words, and he might have fallen asleep the night before doing just that.
“They call it the Veré and Set of our times,” Vos remarked, sounding suspiciously like he was implying something. “What do you think about it?”
“It’s certainly… Entertaining,” Obi-Wan answered truthfully. “Although I’m fairly confident the author has never really spoken to a Jedi, let alone had a relationship with one. The way they depict the Order is… A bit far-fetched from reality.”
“That’s all?” Quinlan raised an eyebrow in disbelief and held his hand out to snatch the volume from the nightstand. It leapt into his hand with the assistance of the Force. “Doesn’t any of this ring a bell?”
The book was printed on flimsi in an old-fashioned manner. All is fair, the title read. Obi-Wan peeked at the cover, which depicted a battlefield scattered with droid parts, and pieces of white armour, and the two main figures of the story standing in the front. One of them was a clone trooper tangled in a strange embrace with a woman – who was partially but unmistakably covered in beige Jedi robes, and for some reason looked like she was about to faint. The two of them were clutching the hilt of a lightsaber as if their life depended on it.
Although it was an eye-catching work, the illustrator could not have been well-versed in the practices of the clone army: the trooper’s armour was spotless, without any trace of paint or blemishes, which could never have belonged to a famed commander such as the protagonist, Commander Otis, was described as. Obi-Wan had never seen a Jedi wearing a robe that slid off one shoulder and had a bold slit on the side either, but who was he to judge.
Overall, it was awfully cheesy and part of the reason Obi-Wan would have never publicly admitted to even having touched the book. The other part being that he had been captivated by the story that followed a commander who'd fallen head over heels in love with his Jedi general. And if at times he had found himself recalling similar situations or wistfully wondering whether his life could have taken a similar turn...
Well. No one had to know.
“Why in the galaxy would it?” he asked nonchalantly.
“Come on, man! There’s a dashing but strict clone commander and a redhead Jedi, and they fight side by side and fall in love. He’s even handing her the lightsaber back!” Vos exclaimed, almost shoving the flimsiback in the other man’s face to prove his point.
“I’m not a redhead,” Obi-Wan protested, focusing on one aspect that was objectively untrue.
“Sure you aren’t,” the Kiffar scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“I’m also not a woman.”
“Poetic licence.” Quinlan waved a hand dismissively. “Obviously some details are changed, but you have to admit, there are some striking similarities.”
“In that I was a Jedi general with a commander, yes, Vos, very astute–” Obi-Wan began dryly, but he was cut off before he had a chance to finish the sly remark.
“A Jedi general who at one point fakes her death, keeps losing her lightsaber, and has a pain in the ass padawan,” Quinlan listed off. “She is also beaten up by a slaver and runs off to save the queen she used to have feelings for – have you reached that part already? The drama.”
Obi-Wan shot him a pointed look. “To use your own words, poetic licence.”
“Nah, I’d call that real-life inspiration.”
Obi-Wan finished eating the last piece of pastry, chewing it slowly, as he ruminated on his next move. He could hardly deny the resemblance between his own life and the plot of the book anymore, but he also found it hard to believe that he was the only Jedi who had taken to their commanders during the war. Especially, if the rumours were anything to go by.
“Isn’t your padawan in a relationship with her former commander?”
“She is,” Quinlan conceded. “But she’s got nothing in common with this general. Also, Bly is a sweetheart, unlike this Otis.”
Obi-Wan frowned in confusion at the name. “Isn’t that the commander that tried to shoot you?” he asked while trying to ignore the implications of Otis not being a sweetheart since he was being compared to Cody.
Vos beamed at him. “We had a slight misunderstanding.” And he went on, not letting the other Jedi stray from the subject. “I don’t think any of these things apply to anyone but you. Have you ever seen another trooper wearing a clip fit to carry a lightsaber around? Because I haven’t.”
Obi-Wan felt his face heat up at the mention of the modification on Cody’s armour. It was bad enough that it implied that his saber had continuously ended up in his commander’s hands, he had never seen anything like it either. But he wasn’t going to give Vos the satisfaction by acknowledging that.
“That’s a rather thin argument. And even if the author was inspired by the events of the war or my actions, it’s a work of fiction.” He stopped to steady himself, because if the Kiffar Jedi were to detect a hint of longing in his voice, it would contradict everything he had said so far. “Nothing of this nature had happened between Cody and me if that’s what you’re insinuating. We couldn’t have possibly been the example for all this.”
Vos sat back, utterly unconvinced, and folded his arms across his chest.
“Fine by me. I’m not the one living in denial – and not just about my hair colour.” He slid the book over the table, tapping the cover. “Read it to the end. Apparently, it’s quite a hit.”
With that, Quinlan drank the rest of his tea, got up, and left through the window.
[It wasn’t love at first sight.
I first caught a glimpse of her as she was wandering the halls of the cloning facility on Kamino, her scarlet curls soaked from the storm that incessantly raged over the planet. She was looking down at us, seeing nothing but a sea of indistinguishable faces.
Units.
I only saw her again after the war had started and I was at last assigned to her as her commander. She didn’t ask for my designation but for my name. She smiled at me and I felt like my heart stopped beating.
We have been told we were made for the Jedi, and in many ways, we were. But I knew that no Kaminoan could have programmed me to feel the way I did then, because it went beyond any definition of devotion or loyalty.
It might have been love the second time around, but I wasn’t aware of the full range of Human emotions back then. I also had no idea that such feelings could be taken away in less than a heartbeat.]
It had taken Cody more time than he was willing to admit to buy some groceries and deliver them to Fox’s apartment in the Federal District. A droid could have done it more efficiently in every respect, but he didn’t want to miss the chance to check on his brother.
It had been a year since Fox was placed under house arrest, and he had been taking it worse with each passing day.
It had been more than that since Chancellor Palpatine had died at the end of Fox’s blaster. And yet, every attempt to prosecute the clone seemed to be stalled at every turn.
Cody was about to step into the turbolift, but it was already occupied by a small blue figure he almost hadn’t noticed. Senator Chuchi was dressed more modestly than he had ever seen her, she'd even exchanged her signature headpiece for a pair of golden hoops dangling from her ears.
“It’s nice to see you, Commander,” she greeted him with a polite smile, as he stepped aside to let her pass. “I just met with Commander Fox. He provided some valuable insight regarding the second draft of the clone rights bill.”
Oh, I’m sure he did, Cody thought to himself but refrained from making such a snarky comment.
The Pantoran senator had become a frequent visitor at his brother’s place – one of the few nat-borns who hadn’t completely turned their backs on him following the late Supreme Chancellor’s assassination. Cody had long suspected that the recurring discussions regarding the future of the clones was more of an excuse, and in all actuality, nothing resembling legal consultation had ever taken place in Fox’s apartment.
“Your assistance is invaluable,” he said politely instead because he was grateful to everyone who was willing to keep his brother some company. And people who could put up with Fox’s presence for longer than a few minutes had been increasingly harder to find.
At that, the senator's cheeks flushed a purplish colour, she lowered her gaze and excused herself, letting Cody make his way to his destination.
Fox didn’t seem to have expected him, but his brother was always eager to catch up on the latest gossip – or gathering information and networking, as he liked to call it – and visibly cheered up when he saw Cody arrive.
There were two empty cups on the table, but no other sign that someone had just been in the apartment. Cody placed the bags of groceries down and watched as Fox put their contents away, neatly stocking everything on the shelves.
“So, have you read it?” His brother asked, not even looking back at him, as he tried to stuff yet another package of noodles into a drawer that was already packed full.
Cody knew exactly what he meant by that. He had received the copy of a holonovel framed as an urgent message from him a few days back. He had only opened it because he‘d believed it to be an update on Fox’s trial.
“The first few chapters,” he lied. He wasn’t going to acknowledge that he'd proceeded to read about a hundred pages in one sitting.
Fox peeked over his shoulder, raising an incredulous eyebrow. “Have you read the part where she runs off to save the Duchess?”
“She’s a queen,” Cody corrected reflexively but immediately realised that the slip-up had been intentional.
“Liar.” Fox smirked at him and handed him some freshly brewed caf in a chipped mug. ”That’s like the middle of the book.”
Cody took the drink cautiously and followed his brother into the living room, sitting down next to him on the couch. “Have you read it?”
“’Course I have, I’ve got nothing but time to read,” Fox replied. He quirked an eyebrow expectantly. “So?”
“So?” Cody repeated, because he wasn’t sure whether his brother was waiting for a detailed book review or his thanks for providing the reading material, even if the topic was a bit on the nose.
“Did you write it or did you just sell the story to the highest bidder?” Fox barked out, clearly fed up with Cody’s confused silence that he must have taken for secretiveness. “In either case, why did you leave your supportive older brother from the Coruscant Guard out of it?”
Cody huffed in disbelief. “I know you’re spending a lot of time alone these days, but I didn’t expect you to crack quite so soon. You could’ve waited until they’ve thrown you in jail properly or something.”
He had expected the teasing, he was used to that. No matter how hard he had tried to deny it, most of his brothers had long figured he was smitten with his general – some maybe even sooner than Cody had. But being accused of writing the thing was a possibility he had failed to account for.
“C’mon, Cody, stop fooling around!”
“I’m not–“ Cody began to argue, but opted to try and reason with his brother instead, blurting out the first thing that came to his mind, ”Why would I even write a love story about a woman?”
“I like how you’re not even trying to deny the Jedi part,” Fox grinned, but the sceptical frown didn’t leave his face.
Cody scoffed. “Would you believe me if I tried?”
Fox glared at him. “Cody, the only person that knows you and would is Rex, and I’m starting to suspect that it’s due to some pact between you two and not because he’s actually convinced.”
He wasn’t far off with that assessment. Still, it was nice to hear that Rex had kept his word.
Cody buried his face in his hands. He felt cornered. He realised he had to acknowledge something to persuade his brother that it wasn’t him behind the author’s pseudonym, somehow gratifying his desires by writing the love story he’d never had.
“I really didn’t– It’s not like it’s accurate, either. I might have had a crush…” he stopped for a moment, but went on, ignoring Fox’s loud snort. ”Fine, more than some untoward feelings for my general, but it’s all in the past. Nothing happened, not since the war and certainly not during. He was my superior officer, Fox. Such a relationship would have been wildly inappropriate and inherently imbalanced.”
The confession hung in the air for a while.
The former guardsman didn’t seem convinced right away, but he must have known how much Cody valued discipline and professionalism. His shoulders eased as he finally said, “I reckon that’s exactly the appeal for many of the readers.”
Cody sighed in relief, grateful for the change in topic. He did not particularly want to dwell on his infatuation and whether any of those feelings had persisted.
“Wait, people are actually reading this?” he demanded, already feeling a headache building.
“As far as I could gather from the HoloNet, it’s all the rage.” Fox glanced at Cody with a smug half-smile and grabbed his datapad, then started reading aloud after a few taps. “You have some first-hand experience, so tell me, have you ever felt like your lungs are about to burst and you would never breathe again because you are immersed in the blue ocean of… Let’s just say it as it was meant to be, shall we… one Obi-Wan Kenobi’s eyes?”
“That sounds like a medical condition, honestly.”
Fox rolled his eyes and clicked with his tongue to express his mock-disapproval.
“It’s poetic, Cody, I don’t even know why I ever thought you could have written this. Although whoever did, they must know you, they’ve captured your grumpiness very well.” He stopped musing, turning his attention back to the copy of the novel on his datapad. “Now, do you often find yourself feeling like you have been thirsting all your life and only the lips of – as already established, General Kenobi – could soothe that craving?”
Cody just groaned into his mug and gulped down his caf, not wanting to dignify the suggestion with a response.
But Fox was relentless. “Have you ever wondered whether Kenobi’s magnetism is unique to him, or is that something all Jedi possess?”
“I often wonder whether other Jedi are just as incapable of holding onto their weapons,” Cody rejoined.
“That wasn’t the question,” Fox said and continued as if he hadn’t noticed his brother’s exasperated look. “If you would care to enlighten me, what was it that caught your attention: his rusty orange hair that forms a golden halo over his head, alternatively, his eyes that match the colour of the clear blue sky, or was it his well-toned behind? All of these are direct quotes from the book, by the way.”
Two can play this game, Cody thought to himself before asking, “You wanna talk about why you’re serving the senator caf in your fancy little cups?”
Fox immediately glanced at the table where the empty cups were but his face remained completely unfazed.
“Because she’s a senator,” he replied evasively.
“Oh, don’t give me that. I ran into her on the way up. She told me she already misses your company.”
“Really?” Fox’s expression suddenly turned into something uncharacteristically hopeful.
“I was just messing with you, but now I feel bad about it,” Cody admitted. After he took a moment to replay their conversation in his head, he quickly added, “Scratch that, you deserved it.”
He was rewarded with an elbow digging into his ribs. He tried to push back with his shoulders, but Fox was quicker, moving to the side and evading him. Cody cried out in pain when Fox tackled him and landed another blow to his stomach, even though he could tell his brother was pulling his punches. Cody finally overpowered him, holding Fox down until he calmed down, his breathing evened out and showed no sign he would retaliate.
Fox sat up, panting, but his triumphant grin had faded. As he started talking, his voice sounded all too serious for someone who’d just behaved like a troublesome cadet. “She said there’s a fraction of senators obstructing my trial – behind the scenes, nothing she can prove. They want to delay it as long as they can, because they think that actually holding me accountable for my actions and sentencing me would be another step toward recognising clones as sentient beings.”
Cody was at a loss for words. “Kark,” he muttered.
He knew the situation was less than ideal – the reason they’d never discussed it, unless Fox had decided to bring it up. The unprecedented nature of the events meant that no one was actually certain how to proceed. And politicians tended to use that to their own advantage as Cody had learned.
“Yeah,” Fox agreed. He combed his fingers through his white-streaked hair nervously. “I wouldn’t even mind if they executed me at this point, you know? At least something good would come of it…”
“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence,” Cody barked out.
He knew exactly what some people had been whispering, that demilitarisation included the destruction of weapons and that meant getting rid of all the tools that could potentially be used in a war against the Republic. And they had a pretty broad definition of what they considered to be tools.
“I mean, I did kill the guy, Cody.” Fox paused for a beat, staring into the mid-distance. “What was it you said, before everything turned to kark? I don’t remember the exact words, but I did make the decision that led here, and I’m ready to live with the consequences. But this kriffing uncertainty, it’s driving me mad.”
The silence that followed felt heavy.
Cody hated the look on his brother’s face in that moment. He wasn’t angry or desperate, just… Exhausted. And when it came down to it, the only difference between them was that Fox had happened to pull the trigger of the blaster that had delivered the fatal hit.
He sighed, searching his mind for some kind of diversion, then closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, already half-regretting what he was about to say, “His eyes.”
“What?” Fox asked as if he didn’t understand, but the mischievous glint in his eyes and the wide smile spread across his face said otherwise.
“His kriffing eyes have captivated me,” Cody said, words pouring out once he started talking. “They might seem blue at first, but depending on his surroundings or his mood or whatever, they can be grey or green or even teal.”
It was the first thing he had noticed that was off in the book, it always described the Jedi’s eyes as plain blue, when in reality they were more capricious than the sea on Kamino.
“Dank farrik, if I'd known you were this far gone, I would have stopped teasing like half an hour ago. This is way worse than anything Bly has ever said. And that’s saying something, Cody.”
Under different circumstances, Cody would have taken that as an insult of the highest order. Bly was the sappiest of them all, he could gush about General Secura for hours on end without repeating himself or trailing off the subject.
But in that moment, he just smirked and said, “Nah, you wouldn’t have.”
“Probably not,” Fox conceded.
[“Anything for you,” I think, but the words never leave my lips. I only answer: “Will do, General.”
“The mission was a success,” I say, but what I mean is, “You really should be more careful.”
“I love you,” I want to say, but all I reply is: ”Yes, sir.”
Every time I feel my heart clench, terrified, that one day she will hear all that is left unsaid.]