Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This had not gone the way that R2 had hoped it would go.

Not that R2 had wanted anyone to try and kill Mistress Padme. R2 had just thought, with assassins being involved and all, that things would have at least been a little less boring than things had turned out to be so far.

And it was Mistress Padme and Little Ani! Although little Ani wasn't as little as he used to be. 

R2 still remembered when Little Ani had actually been little, the two of them had flown into battle together and blown up a droid control ship. He knew Little Ani, he didn't really know this new big Ani, but R2 had hoped that he was still the same.

That had been one of the most exciting moments of R2's life. R2 had felt like every circuit in his little frame had been running two times faster than it was actually possible for them to run. R2 had loved it.

And Mistress Padme may not have had adventures all the time when they'd been on Naboo, but she had them sometimes, and she almost always let R2 come with her. And Good-Decoy Sabe had sometimes brought R2 on her adventures too. R2 had been desperately grateful for those few adventures. It had broken up the monotony.

There was nothing R2 hated more than being bored. He didn't care if as an astromech he shouldn't be bothered by things such as monotony, he was!

But now here he was, stuck in the ship on this stupid sand planet.

It was somehow even more boring than everything that had happened on Naboo, and that had been incredibly boring. R2 had been forced to watch as Mistress Padme and Little Ani made weird human faces at each other which, when he'd analyzed against the information he had stored in his data packets from other human observation, he could only conclude were supposed to be lovelorn.

R2 had vaguely hoped when they left Naboo for Tatooine that that meant they'd have an adventure. But no, Mistress Padme and Little Ani had told him to stay in the ship. As though either of them were prepared to deal with an adventure without him there!

To make it worse, somehow the sand had made it's way into the ship and was getting everywhere, including trying to get inside R2's frame.

R2 had data packets that reminded him that this had been a problem last time he'd been on the sand planet. But at least then there had been things to distract R2 from the absolute nuisance that was sand.

Mistress Padme and Little Ani owed him a really good adventure to make up for the absolute awfulness that these past few weeks had been. That and an oil bath.

There was a beep from the ship alerting him to the fact that a transmission was coming in. R2 wheeled over as a holo popped up. Jedi Kenobi started talking and R2 analyzed the information carefully. The transmission was halted when battle droids showed up and started shooting, forcing Jedi Kenobi out of the holo. Battle droids were the worst. They were always poorly programmed, and thought that shooting things was the only way to solve problems. No ingenuity.

R2 was far more advanced, capable of analyzing his programming and interpreting it in a variety of ways. Plus, R2 was good at solving problems, not like stupid battle droids.

The transmission cut off and R2 quickly downloaded it so that he could take it to Little Ani. His circuits were practically sparking he was so excited. They would for sure go on an adventure now.

He stopped rolling before he could open the ship up.

What if they didn't go?

Jedi Kenobi had told Little Ani to send this message on to the Jedi Council. What if Little Ani just let them deal with the situation?

Oh.

R2 pulled the transmission up again and listened to it. Jedi Kenobi had gone to Geonosis following the Bounty Hunter after Mistress Padme, then there was the Trade Federation, and possibly a droid army.

He couldn't help the mournful whistle that escaped him.

There was no way that Little Ani and Mistress Padme would let them go on an adventure, not when the reason they'd gone into hiding in the first place was to protect Mistress Padme.

They were going to stay on this stupid sand planet and if R2 was lucky they would all eventually go back to Naboo and he'd have to watch Mistress Padme and Little Ani make more stupid human faces at each other.

It wasn't fair that Jedi Kenobi got to have all of the adventure.

R2 had small data packets that remembered Jedi Kenobi from the first time on Naboo and Tatooine, R2 had thought he was boring because he'd stayed on the ship the whole time. But obviously his data packet on Jedi Kenobi wasn't complete. After all, Jedi Kenobi was the one who had jumped out of a window, and he didn't even have the thrusters that R2 had.

Something in R2's circuits sparked and R2 played the transmission again.

R2 had been sent with Mistress Padme and Little Ani to help protect Mistress Padme. Jedi Kenobi was obviously also protecting Mistress Padme.

Jedi Kenobi was possibly in danger, which would mean that he wouldn't be able to keep protecting Mistress Padme.

This would put Mistress Padme in even more danger.

That of course, would be bad. And since R2 was supposed to protect Mistress Padme, R2 should do everything in his power to make sure that Mistress Padme wasn't in any more danger.

Which meant that R2 needed to save Jedi Kenobi.

And once R2 had done that, Jedi Kenobi would need help making sure the Bounty Hunter, the Trade Federation, and the Droid Army didn't pose any further danger to Mistress Padme; R2 would obviously be the best choice to help him.

R2 considered the transmission one last time before whistling gleefully. He saved the transmission again before moving to the ships computer banks. The ship computers took a few minutes to convince, but R2 was very persuasive.

Time for an adventure.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan frowned as his little prison spun him around yet again.

It felt like an analogy for his thoughts, right now. Spinning around and around, with absolutely no progress being made.

He went over everything that Dooku had told him again. A Sith Lord on Coruscant influencing the Senate.

Frankly, it wouldn't surprise Obi-Wan if there was a Sith Lord in the Senate. A Sith would fit right in with the majority of politicians, a more self-serving bunch of snakes he had never seen.

But still, it couldn't be true.

Could it?

No. Surely the Council would know if there was a Sith Lord so close. He shuddered as he remembered the Sith Warrior from Naboo.

Sometimes in his dreams he still felt that dark, inky, cruel malevolence reaching for him, trying to destroy him.

Could such a terrible, cruel miasma of darkness such as that really hide in the Force?

He closed his eyes and deliberately emptied his mind. He would come to no conclusions now. And strangely enough, the possibility a Sith Lord on Coruscant was hardly the most pressing issue right now.

No, currently he had to determine how he was going to avoid being executed. Then he could focus on trying to figure out a way to stop the Republic from going to War.

He ignored the quiet voice in the back of his head that told him there was no way to stop this from happening.

There had to be.

Obi-Wan refused to believe that it was inevitable.

The door opened just as he rotated past it and he pulled his focus back to the room around him, mentally preparing himself for anything.

Nothing happened for a moment and Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes, even as his prison rotated him so that he could no longer see the door.

The excited beep of a droid echoed in the room and Obi-Wan furrowed his eyebrows. Yes, he had seen the droids being built by the Trade Federation, Techno Union, and Commerce Guild, but those had all been battle droids…

The rotation brought him back to facing the door and caught sight of the astromech he was positive he had sent along with his Padawan. "R2? What are you doing here?"

R2 beeped happily and rolled forward, connecting to the terminal that controlled his hanging prison. A few moments later the power sputtered and went off and Obi-Wan dropped unceremoniously to the ground as the cuffs around his wrists and ankles unlatched and landed in the red sand.

He kept himself from groaning as he pushed himself to his feet. There were left over tingles of electricity running through his skin and his left leg was completely numb from lack of movement and his right leg was only slightly better.

Still, there was no time to stand around waiting for his body to start cooperating with him.

"Where is Anakin? Surely he didn't abandon the Senator!" A thought occurred to him and he felt slightly horrified. "He didn't bring her with him, did he?" That was all this situation needed, his Padawan running amok pulling the Senator in his wake.

R2 whistled and beeped, his dome spinning.

Obi-Wan didn't understand binary but between the fact that he couldn't feel Anakin's presence anywhere nearby in the Force and R2's obvious pride another suspicion was beginning to grow in his mind. "R2, did you come rescue me all by yourself?"

R2 beeped, and Obi-Wan had never really given much thought to the fact that astromech's could sound smug, but at the moment that was exactly the way R2 sounded.

Obi-Wan blinked and then nodded. "Right, well, thank you R2. I appreciate the rescue." He hesitated, his mind whirling through everything. Decisions and choices running through his mind. "You got the message I sent, yes?"

R2 beeped something that sounded affirmative.

"Did you send the message on to Coruscant the way I asked you to?"

R2 seemed to hesitate before trilling a negative response.

That meant that the Republic had yet to discover the existence of the droid army. This could be either a terrible mistake or a blessing in disguise.

The discovery of a droid army in the Separatists' possession would cause the Senate to rush into war.

Should they go to war there would be no going back, not until the Galaxy had fallen into chaos. Not until things were irreparably changed. He could feel it deep in his soul that entering into war would destroy the Republic, would destroy the Galaxy.

And while the Republic desperately needed change, there had to be a way to bring the Republic back to a place of true democracy without descending into war.

Force, what was he supposed to do?

He could not allow the Republic to be taken by surprise by the droid army. It would splinter the Galaxy further than it already had, planets ceding to CIS control due to fear, rather than any true belief in the values the CIS claimed to hold to.

But the Force whispered against sending word to Coruscant.

His resolve firmed.

"R2, I need your help."

R2 beeped excitedly, his dome spinning quickly. Obi-Wan was going to take that as agreement to lend his aid.

"Can you send a message through the Geonosian's communication system to reach Count Dooku?"

R2 beeped in the affirmative.

"Right. Good." He took a deep breath. "Let's put some distance between us and this cell before we send that message then. After that we're going to have to destroy the droid foundries. Or as many as we can before they catch up to us." He frowned. "I also need you to get into their databases, collect as much information as possible. This cannot be the only droid foundry, and we need to find as many of them as we can. We need to set the Separatists back in production, anything to delay the war as much as we can."

R2 spun around in circles, and then bumped into his legs, pushing him toward the exit. If Obi-Wan didn't know any better he would have described the droid as excited, but surely that wasn't right.

Obi-Wan was practically signing their death warrants. There was nothing about that that was exciting.

Still, it needed to be done. He had to buy the Republic time.

It was remarkably easy to sneak their way through the Geonosian's hive. Apparently they hadn't seen the need to increase security since the last time Obi-Wan had been sneaking around.

Not that Obi-Wan was complaining.

Even when anyone came through, Obi-Wan was the only one who had to hide. No one so much as blinked at R2's presence. It looked like there were benefits to being a droid, even if R2 was an astromech rather than a Trade Federation or Techno Union droid.

They made it to a more secluded area that fortunately still had a data port and Obi-Wan turned to the droid. "Can you create a map of where all of the droid foundries and holding stations are here on Geonosis?"

R2 whistled and quickly hooked himself up into the terminal. Obi-Wan waited to make sure that R2 didn't need anything from him before settling down. This was hardly the best place or time to meditate, but even if Obi-Wan didn't die in the next few hours he was about to upend his whole world and he desperately wanted reassurance from the Force.

The Force was soft and welcoming as Obi-Wan slid into meditation and Obi-Wan reveled in the warmth of the Force. Guide me. He begged quietly. I am doing everything in my power. Please, guide me.

The Force was tender, his perception of it twisting so that it felt like a soft brush of intangible fingers against his cheek.

It wasn't a promise, but it was a reassurance, nonetheless.

He heard R2 beep out in the real world and he pulled himself out of meditation. "What do you have for me, R2?"

R2 beeped and threw up a holo-map. Obi-Wan scanned it and felt a hint of gratitude. A part of him had worried that the droid foundries would be scattered throughout the entirety of Geonosis, and based on the map, there were signs that there were plans for expansion. But for now the foundries were all generally in the same location.

Obi-Wan nodded. "All right. We can deal with this." He pointed to the control center. "We're starting here, and we're going to be as quiet as possible. No chaos. I need you to download as much information as you can from their systems. I need to know where the other foundries were built, they can't all be here on Geonosis; check to see if there are any plans for an initial attack against the Republic; you should also see if you can find anything about a contact in Coruscant." As much as he hated to admit it, he suspected that Dooku was telling the truth about a Sith hiding somewhere on Coruscant, even if not in the Senate. What he did doubt, however, was that Dooku was working against said Sith.

No. Obi-Wan suspected that Dooku was actually working with the Sith. A Sith on both sides of the war that was coming for them.

Though he doubted that either Dooku or the unknown Sith were so foolish as to leave any solid information in such an easily accessible location. But it didn't hurt to have R2 look.

He took a deep breath.

"R2, can you use the communication systems to send a message to Senator Amidala. Coded and shielded in such a way that the Geonosians won't notice?"

R2 whistled uncertainly, but then after a moment gave an affirmative beep.

Obi-Wan nodded. "Excellent. That message first, please."

After a moment a light indicating that R2 was recording lit up and Obi-Wan took a deep breath. “Senator Amidala, I must thank you for sending R2 to aid me in my time of need. The situation here on Geonosis is grave, and I regret what I am about to ask you to do. You must return to Coruscant.” He squared his shoulders. “What I tell you now I tell you in great trust. In my investigation I have stumbled across two separate armies, one a clone army ordered for the Republic ten years ago; the other a droid army created by the CIS. You know as well as I what this means, Senator. We are on the brink of war.”

He let his head dip, a moment of mourning before raising his head again to look to where R2 was holo-recording him. "I have already informed the Jedi Council of the creation of the clone army and they have taken word to the Chancellor. Yet, I fear if I were to send word of the droid army I have found that the first response would be panic, to lash out at this new threat. We both know that such actions cannot be taken back and the Republic would be launched into war."

"I am entrusting you with this information in the hopes that you and your allies will be able to remind the Senate of the terrible costs of war. That you will find a way to bring sense and mercy to the Republic. I will buy you what time I can to stop Count Dooku from beginning the war before the Republic has found another option."

"The rest of my message I leave for my Padawan." He took a deep breath. "Anakin, I cannot tell you the regret that fills me as I leave this message for you to take to the Council. I cannot take action against the CIS as a Representative of the Republic. To do so could be considered the first volley in this war. As such I tender my resignation to the Jedi Order. I do not wish to abandon you, Anakin, but I see no other option." Quite against his will, he felt a knot form in his throat, making the next words difficult to get out. "Anakin, the past ten years with you by my side have been dear to me. I am very proud of the man you are becoming, and have great faith in the man you will continue to become. Trust in the Force, Padawan, and trust in yourself. Do not come to me, Anakin, I know what the personal repercussions of my actions will be, and I want better for you than that."

"I am sorry, Anakin." He let a deep breath escape him. "May the Force be with you, both."

He saw R2 end the recording and closed his eyes. He let himself curl inwards for just a moment, let himself mourn the life he had just abandoned.

R2 whistled softly, and Obi-Wan heard him roll forward quietly, bumping into his left leg in a manner that was almost gentle.

Obi-Wan rested a hand on his chrome dome and then pulled himself back together. "Let's take a look at that map again. R2."

Chapter Text

R2 felt his circuits spark happily as he rolled back into their designated corner of the Geonosian hive. They had gone together to the control room to download as much data as they could before separating to the factories. There had been six in the area, and Friend Obi-Wan and R2 had taken three each, carefully sabotaging the factory reactors. R2 had also snuck into some of the weapon caches for the battledroids and messed with their production routines. Friend Obi-Wan, whose designation R2 had carefully changed from Jedi Kenobi, wasn't back yet, but R2 had run a careful analysis of the situation and there was an 86 percent chance of the man making it back by the allotted time, 89 percent if the patrol around Geonosis remained subpar.

He connected himself back into the data port and sliced his way so that he could better watch communications, he noted with vague alarm that someone was scheduled to bring Friend Obi-Wan to be executed soon. They were going to lose the element of surprise once someone realized that Friend Obi-Wan was no longer in his cell.

R2's calculations actually showed that they had gone an hour over his estimated time until discovery, but R2 had hoped that the organics would all continue to prove themselves inept.

His sensors picked up someone coming and he retreated from the data port and started rolling along the hallway as though he belonged there.

Friend Obi-Wan turned the corner and raised an eyebrow in what R2's data banks informed him could be either surprise, annoyance, or amusement. He considered running other facial cues to further analyze the facial expression but then decided that he wasn't a protocol droid and it wasn't important. And the way Friend Obi-Wan gently patted his chrome informed R2 that the man wasn't annoyed, and R2 was pleased with either amusement or surprise.

R2 let the man know about the scheduled execution Friend Obi-Wan would thankfully miss, but Friend Obi-Wan didn't speak binary, which was truly unfortunate.

"Are you ready to open communications, R2?"

Of course he was. R2 was always ready. He readjusted so that he could slice into the communication network again and then gave Friend Obi-Wan a signal to show he was ready.

"Everything's scrambled so they won't be able to easily pinpoint us?"

R2 twitched his dome in annoyance and explained to Friend Obi-Wan that of course he had scrambled the signal, he wasn't some amateur.

While Friend Obi-Wan didn't seem to understand everything R2 had told him the other man did nod seriously. "Of course, R2, I wasn't doubting you, I am merely attempting to remain cautious."

R2 decided that he could forgive that. Friend Obi-Wan straightened. "All right. I'm ready."

R2 connected himself to Evil Dooku's commlink. Well, R2 didn't actually know if he was evil, but Mistress Padme didn't like him, and he had imprisoned Friend Obi-Wan, frankly, that was all R2 needed to know to give him his designation.

He created the holo of Evil Dooku and Friend Obi-Wan gave the holo a small bow. R2 wasn't sure why Friend Obi-Wan would do that, people used to do that to Mistress Padme all the time as a sign of respect. Evil Dooku didn't deserve that at all.

"Count Dooku."

"Knight Kenobi. I admit that hearing from you is something of a surprise. Should I assume that this means you have decided to remove yourself from the Geonosians hospitality?"

There were noises outside of the commlink that R2 was fairly certain were supposed to be surprise and alarm.

"Yes, a new friend of mine decided to drop by and take me with them."

"Oh? Is that so?" Evil Dooku's response didn't reveal anything of what he was thinking at that and R2 wished that organics were a little easier to read, other droids were never this complicated.

"Yes. However, that isn't the purpose of my communication."

"I had assumed that there was more to it." Evil Dooku agreed.

Friend Obi-Wan's face was what R2 thought human's called serene, but R2 noticed that the way he was standing was similar to how he stood when he was saying goodbye to Little Ani. "I thought it pertinent to inform you that I've left the Jedi Order."

Evil Dooku's eyebrows both rose and R2 was sure that this was surprise. "Have you decided to take me up on my offer?"

Offer? There was an offer? R2 hadn't heard about that, and he didn't much like the sound of it either. He whistled lowly, but Friend Obi-Wan didn't react to his question.

"I'm afraid that isn't possible at this time. But I thought it best to inform you of my lack of connection to the Republic, and that the Republic and the Order have also received my resignation."

Evil Dooku's eyes narrowed.

"I also thought I should warn you to have your droid foundries cleared out." Friend Obi-Wan lifted his hands up and made a gesture to indicate the area around them. "You really ought to have increased security in those areas."

"Kenobi—“ Friend Obi-Wan made a signal and R2 immediately cut the communications.

Friend Obi-Wan sighed. "I do really wish we'd been able to do this part from the ship." He sighed and settled next to R2. "Send out a signal for an evacuation of the foundries."

R2 set off as many evacuation alarms as he could, even as he whistled in question; Friend Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, I don't trust Dooku to order any Geonosians in the area out." Friend Obi-Wan looked away, and his voice took a tone that R2's analysis indicated was tired. "I'm going to become a criminal, that doesn't mean I need to become careless with people's lives."

According to the data port the droid foundries now had the sprinklers going off, and alarms blaring, and were hopefully now in chaos.

R2 informed Friend Obi-Wan of this and then told Friend Obi-Wan that R2 would also be becoming a criminal, and that it wasn't the worst thing in the galaxy. They were going to be good criminals, in both manners of speaking.

This communication barrier was starting to become very frustrating, but Friend Obi-Wan still gave R2 a smile. "Thank you, R2." So maybe R2 had somehow managed to get the most important part of the message across. Unless he was thanking R2 for setting off the alarms.

What good was comforting Friend Obi-Wan if the human didn’t even know R2 was doing it!?

Obi-Wan waited a few more minutes before nodding to himself. "All right, R2. Set the reactors off."

This was the reason they hadn't been able to do this from the ship. If they had been more prepared for the situation they probably could have, but on the fly this was the best they could do. Using the data port to connect to the control system, and R2 thought this was a very poor design choice of the creators, he connected to all six of the factory reactor systems. R2 looked for the flaw that he and Friend Obi-Wan had created in the reactor programs, and then set the program to run.

Both he and Friend Obi-Wan waited in expectation, and it took less than a minute before the sound of explosions reached them. R2 whistled happily. They'd done it!

Friend Obi-Wan let out a deep breath. "Wonderful. Now we just need to get off this blasted planet. Where did you say that you left the ship?"

R2 whistled and Obi-Wan followed him as he started off.

They had to move much slower now that Evil Dooku realized that Friend Obi-Wan had escaped and sabotaged his factories. There were Geonosians scouring the hallways looking for them and Friend Obi-Wan had to hide himself almost more often than they could actually move.

Still, they made it to the area, hidden near one of the now destroyed foundries, where R2 had left the ship.

Friend Obi-Wan hissed and stopped R2 from moving closer. "Something's wrong here." He paused. "Run a scan of the area, R2, see what you find."

R2 twisted his dome quietly in a silent acknowledgment as he ran the scanners. There was nothing outside of the ship, but after a second scan he noted that there appeared to be something organic inside the ship.

He whistled urgently at Friend Obi-Wan.

"Someone's there?"

R2 whistled again.

Friend Obi-Wan sighed. "Can you tell whether it's human or Geonosian?"

R2 ran another scan, thankfully humans and Geonosians had different carbon and oxygen levels, and after a short analysis he could verify it as human.

He told Friend Obi-Wan as much. Apparently unwilling to trust his ability to interpret, Friend Obi-Wan quietly clarified. "Human?"

R2 gave a quick affirmative.

"Fett." Friend Obi-Wan's hand went to his belt, before his face twisted in a way R2 wasn't used to. He analyzed the expressions quickly and determined it to be distress.

"I don't think it would be a wise idea for me to try to take Fett while unarmed." He paused. "I think our best bet would be to make it to the shipyard and steal a ship."

He frowned. "Between the two of us, hopefully we can get a ship out of here."

Of course R2 could override a ship's security protocols, but he would forgive Friend Obi-Wan for not knowing that.

They kept to the outskirts of the hive this time. And there was enough chaos going on that they managed to make it most of the way to the shipyard without problem.

They were attacked once by a pair of Geonosians carrying spears, but Friend Obi-Wan managed to fight them off admirably even without his lightsaber; the moment that Friend Obi-Wan managed to retrieve one of the spears for himself he took them both down with ease.

Of course, R2 hadn't doubted him for even a moment.

So maybe R2 had doubted Friend Obi-Wan, but it had only been for half a second when his analysis systems indicated that without his weapon, Friend Obi-Wan was outmatched.

He updated his data packet set apart for Friend Obi-Wan to indicate greater physical prowess than R2 had initially recorded.

They made it to the rest of the shipyard quickly and R2 followed Friend Obi-Wan as he made his way through the ships.

Friend Obi-Wan was focusing on slicing open one of the larger Geonosian fighter ships, one that would fit both of them easily.

R2 however caught sight of another ship, settled somewhat in a corner. It was a Firespray ship, but an unfamiliar class. It was dark gray and somewhat battered and R2's circuits cycled quickly in delight. R2 thought this was probably what organics called love at first sight.

He trundled over and found a panel to start slicing his chosen ship open.

Friend Obi-Wan made a distressed sound. "That really isn't a good idea, R2."

R2 ignored him as he made contact with the ships systems. This ship was perfect.

The Firespray seemed very flattered that he thought so. R2 informed the Firespray that he and his Friend were going to save the Republic.

The Firespray was a little less impressed than R2 would have hoped, but R2 did his best to convince the Firespray that they would really benefit from her help.

The Firespray hesitated, her humans didn't like the Republic, she told him. They probably didn't want R2 and Friend Obi-Wan to save the Republic.

R2 told her that they were also going to be criminals.

That seemed to appease her far more than their heroic quest.

"R2, please come away from that ship. We've already antagonized Dooku, antagonizing Fett is only going to make this more complicated."

The Firespray asked R2 if they were going to take her away from her humans forever if she let him in, she quite liked her humans. They were feisty and skilled.

R2 promised that they'd make sure to leave a tracker and communicator to let her humans find her again once they were safely off planet.

Finally the Firespray let her landing ramp down, and told R2 that he was going to owe her a favor and that he wasn't allowed to look into her data banks. She kept her humans' secrets.

R2 was quick to promise and then disconnected so that he could roll up the landing pad.

Friend Obi-Wan hesitated before following him. "Such a bad idea."

R2 ignored him as he made his way to the pilot's seat. He whistled in annoyance, the way the seats were set up, it would be difficult for him to help with takeoff.

Friend Obi-Wan hesitated and R2 whistled at him.

Friend Obi-Wan grumbled and slid into one of the seats, starting the ship up. "We're going to pay for this."

R2 beeped happily at him and watched as Friend Obi-Wan actually started getting the ship ready for take off. Once he was sure Friend Obi-Wan was going to go through with it R2 trundled back to the main area so that he could get Firespray to close the landing ramp.

R2 froze as a small human boy walked up the ramp, closing it behind him. "Buir?" The boy called out. But Friend Obi-Wan was too busy, and the engines starting up were too loud for Friend Obi-Wan to hear.

The small human took a step into the ship, looking around and R2 rolled out of the hall and into the boy's view.

The child's mouth gaped open in a way that R2's data packets indicated was shock. "What are you doing here?" Friend Obi-Wan had gotten the ship to take off and the small human clutched at the wall. "Buir? Dad? What's going on?"

The boy's hand fell to his waist and R2 whistled worriedly when he saw Human Boy pull a blaster, pointing it at R2. Why would such a small, human child have a blaster?

Bad. This was bad.

The ship veered dangerously, the unexpected movement catching both of them by surprise, and Human Boy lost his balance, reaching out to catch himself on the wall with a yelp.

R2 rolled forward quickly, trying to knock the blaster out of the Human Boy's hand. Human Boy yelped and clutched at the blaster.

There was a sudden shudder around the ship and R2 let out a sharp whistle. Human Boy's face was suddenly very pale. "Are we getting shot at?"

The ship veered again and Human Boy fell against R2's frame, the blaster thankfully falling from his grip and to the ground.

Human Boy pushed away from R2 and started stumbling towards the cockpit as the ship veered again.

Not good. Very not good. Human Boy would not be happy to see Friend Obi-Wan and might react poorly, this would distract Friend Obi-Wan, and then they'd all get shot out of the sky.

R2 let his oil canister open and spill out onto the floor, and Human Boy yelped as he went down quickly.

R2 rolled around and engaged his electric prod, he didn't want to shock Human Boy, but he also didn't want to get blown out of the sky.

Human Boy snarled at him, but between the oil on the floor and the constant veering of the ship wasn't able to regain his feet.

A few minutes later there was a lurch that R2 recognized as being jumped into hyperspace. Human Boy pushed himself to his feet again and R2 beeped at him warningly.

There was the sounds of Friend Obi-Wan making his way back to the main area of the ship and R2 whistled worriedly. He didn't want Friend Obi-Wan to be mad at him. It wasn't his fault that Human Boy had entered the ship.

Friend Obi-Wan let out a quiet sigh as he entered the room, taking it all in. R2 couldn't quite tell what the look on his face meant, and his data packets didn't have enough information for him to adequately analyze it.

"Force, I knew this was a bad idea."

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan ran a hand over his face, grimacing when he realized he had yet to clean the oil from his hand, which meant the oil was now probably smeared all over his face and was now congealing in his beard.

This whole mission—and could he even call this a mission anymore, if he was no longer a Jedi?—had been a steady spiral downhill.

Everything was a mess. And he didn't mean literally—though that was also the case. The oil R2 had spilled to try and distract and delay Boba had spread everywhere. The floor was a deathtrap, the walls had gotten a decent splatter, R2 had a nice layer of oil all over him, Boba was drenched in it, and Obi-Wan had been pretty well covered in the mess during Boba's rather energetic and enthusiastic attempts to murder him.

Hopefully Boba was off getting cleaned up, though Obi-Wan quietly doubted it. No, Boba was probably off planning more murder.

But still, if the mess had simply been literal, then Obi-Wan might have actually been pleased. But no. No, things were a mess because the Galaxy was on the brink of war and Obi-Wan had to find a way to stop it; because there may or may not be a Sith in the Senate, one that none of the Jedi seemed to know about; because Obi-Wan had left the Jedi Order, had left his home and his family, to try and buy the Jedi and the Republic as much time as he could by becoming a criminal; and to top it all off, because he'd accidentally kidnapped a child, not just any child, he'd kidnapped a bounty hunter's son.

And he could not emphasize this enough: Accidentally.

Being killed by a bounty hunter for accidentally kidnapping said bounty hunter's son, would make it very difficult to deal with everything else that needed dealing with. Which meant he'd have to do something to convince Fett that murder was not the right option, or at least that murdering Obi-Wan could wait a short while until Obi-Wan had gotten everything done. 

Fett could murder him after he'd dealt with everything else. After all, it'd been an accident? Couldn't that get Obi-Wan at least a little bit of leeway? That was reasonable, right?

Though for some reason he doubted that Fett would care in the slightest that the kidnapping had genuinely been an accident.

Especially given that the only reason it had happened at all was because Obi-Wan had been stealing the man's ship at the time. That really didn’t help his case.

Force, Obi-Wan had kidnapped a child.

He was pretty sure there was something ironic about that, Jedi were often called baby-stealers by the uninformed and the conspiracy theorists, and only now when he wasn’t a Jedi anymore, had he actually participated in a kidnapping.

Reassuring himself that this was all forgivable because it had been an accident and he was going to rectify it as soon as he could wasn’t working; which only solidified his certainty that the reasoning wouldn’t work on Fett, either.

Obi-Wan had never wanted to become a criminal, but he was fairly certain that if he had ever given any thought to the matter this was not how it would have gone.

This was a terrible start to his criminal career.

Though, he really did need to commend Fett. He'd taught his son well. The moment Boba had seen him, Boba had attacked. Ignoring the way he'd slipped haphazardly in the oil, Boba had lunged forward and pulled out a dagger the boy had been carrying on his belt.

And really, what kind of ten year old carried around a dagger?

From a skill perspective, Obi-Wan could appreciate the speed at which Boba had moved, could appreciate the way that Boba had managed a decent stab despite slipping through the oil, could appreciate that the draw from his belt had been practiced and quick.

The boy was obviously very talented.

Still, it hadn't been difficult to disarm the boy and stop him from stabbing Obi-Wan through the heart.

Boba had been uninterested in listening to Obi-Wan's attempts to explain and had only tried to kill him again, not that Obi-Wan could particularly blame him for that. At Boba's age, Obi-Wan was pretty sure he wouldn't have been all that interested in listening to someone who'd kidnapped him either.

It had been four or five minutes of constant attacks that Obi-Wan carefully evaded, careful to not hurt the boy before Boba had stormed away and into one of the rooms on the ship.

Obi-Wan had let him go, silently impressed with the boy's skill and persistence. It had been a while since he had seen someone try to use a datapad as a deadly weapon, but Boba had put in a remarkably good effort.

Fett had obviously taught him often and well.

R2 beeped at him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

R2 pushed the datapad that Boba had used earlier to try to kill him closer to where Obi-Wan was sitting, a thin film of oil on it. Obi-Wan tried to wipe it off with his robe so he could better see the data screen but was only partially successful, leaving a smear behind. "Did you download the information you gathered from the Command Center onto it?"

R2 gave a pleased whistle and Obi-Wan nodded. "Thank you, R2." R2 beeped and then connected himself to the data system, whistling again to get Obi-Wan's attention.

Obi-Wan glanced at the translation screen to see R2's question. He sighed. "Well, I don't think it a good idea to remain on this stolen ship, that is doubly true now that we've managed to kidnap Fett's son. We're headed to a relatively close planet. We're going to need a new ship."

R2 whistled again. Obi-Wan frowned at the question. "Ryloth." He had considered going to Tatooine, that was where Anakin had last been according to R4, and while hopefully Anakin and Padme had left for Coruscant, Obi-Wan didn't want to risk going there if they hadn't yet. Obi-Wan didn't want to risk his padawan trying to throw away his future to follow Obi-Wan on a reckless, foolish endeavor with little chance of success.

R2 gave an acknowledgment and Obi-Wan nodded. "As soon as I get all of this cleaned up I'm going to start going through the data. If you don't mind, I would appreciate your help in doing so as well."

R2 beeped cheerfully, and Obi-Wan took that as an agreement.

Obi-Wan looked up when he heard the sound of footsteps. It was Boba again and the boy was wearing a scowl on his face. Boba had changed out of his oily clothes and had apparently tried to wash off the rest of the oil, although he'd missed a bit of oil on his cheek and in his hair.

But he was cleaner than Obi-Wan was, in any case.

"Where are you taking me?"

Obi-Wan tilted his head. "We're headed to Ryloth, it's only a single hyperspace jump away, less than half a day's journey. I'm sure your Father is already in the process of tracking us, I imagine he'll be less than a few hours behind, you'll be more than safe in the ship when he gets to you."

"He's going to kill you." Boba sounded incredibly satisfied by that fact.

Obi-Wan didn't doubt that Fett was going to try. "I'll keep that in mind." He kept his voice blasé, turning back to look at the mess so he could figure out how to best get it cleaned.

Bad enough to steal a ship and a son, it would be rather rude to leave it such a mess.

"He is." Boba said again, this time sounding frustrated, likely at the way Obi-Wan had brushed the threat off. "He's going to kill you."

Obi-Wan met the boy's eyes. "I believe you."

Boba nodded, once again satisfied, and stormed off again.

Obi-Wan felt a hint of amusement before moving himself to start going through the ship. In normal situations he would try to stay out of Fett's things as much as he could—well, in normal situations he wouldn't have stolen a ship, much less Fett's ship, to start with—but he needed to find something to soak up the oil before he tried to clean the remnants of it. Being Anakin's master had meant that he'd gotten quite used to finding oil and grease everywhere from different projects Anakin had decided needed to be done in the common room of their shared living space, and had gotten equally as used to having to clean up after said messes.

Though he didn't think Anakin had ever made quite this much of a mess.

He went through a couple of storage containers. Weapons, weapons, more weapons. A few things that weren't weapons but also weren't helpful.

He moved on.

He found a small kitchenette and started opening cupboards.

He was a little surprised to find that it was actually well stocked. For some reason he never would have thought of Fett as someone who cooked. He narrowed his eyes and shifted a container of seasonings to the left. There was a small vibroblade hidden behind the seasonings. He laughed a little to himself, for no other reason than it was ridiculous but also completely in line with what he would have expected of a bounty hunter.

He moved to the small sink and sonic combo.

Boba found him as Obi-Wan was grabbing what looked like cleaning detergent, he really should have checked under the sink first. It was where he kept the cleaning supplies in his room back at the Temple.

"What are you doing?" Boba demanded, practically bristling.

"I'm trying to find what I need to clean the oil mess." Obi-Wan answered, watching Boba from the corner of his eye as he found a towel and a sponge. "I don't suppose you and your Father ever owned a Tooka? Tooka litter can be effective at soaking up excess oil."

Boba blinked at him several times, looking faintly bewildered. "No. We've never had a Tooka."

"A shame." Obi-Wan muttered.

"I brought you food." Obi-Wan looked up as Boba threw a ration bar at him.

Obi-Wan caught it and stared down at it for a moment, and felt a smile tugging at his lips. "Thank you, Boba. But I'm afraid poison works far better when the person you are attempting to poison doesn't know that you want them dead."

Boba pouted.

"You did an excellent job of injecting the poison without obvious tampering, though." Obi-Wan encouraged him.

Boba stormed away again, passing R2 as he went. Obi-Wan chuckled quietly under his breath. Oh, Boba really was quite young, wasn't he? The poisoning attempt was almost adorable.

R2 beeped something that sounded inquisitive. Obi-Wan held up the cleaning supplies in question and R2's dome went back and forth in an approximation of a head shake. He held up the ration bar next, and R2 gave what Obi-Wan had decided was an affirmative.

"Oh, I'm fairly certain that Boba is going to try and kill me as many chances he gets until we split ways. There was almost zero chance that Boba would give me food out of the goodness of his heart." He considered it for another moment. "Well, he might now, if only to try and lure me into a false sense of security. Fortunately our journey is short enough that I'll have no need of either sleep or food." Although the Geonosians hadn't fed him during his stay with them, and captivity hadn't been the most optimal place for getting sleep, so he really would, at some point, need to get some sleep and food, but it wasn't a priority right now. "You have to admire the boy's determination."

Obi-Wan had never seen an astromech manage to portray skepticism quite so well—at least, he thought that was what R2 was trying to convey.

Moving on. "Do you have any ideas for what I can use to soak up the oil?"

R2 gave a confused sounding whistle and Obi-Wan went back through looking through the cabinets. Flour. Not the best thing for soaking up oil. But it could work.

He stared at the flour for a second longer, his mind a little caught up on the fact that Fett had flour in the kitchen on his ship. Flour, seasonings, and was that a mixer back there? Did Fett know how to cook? Did he bake?

He shook his head, that really wasn't important right now. 

Maybe he was a little more exhausted than he had thought.

He moved back into the main room, and grimaced as he saw the mess again.

Carefully he started spreading the flour on the ship floor. He was fairly certain you were supposed to leave it overnight to soak in the oil, but he didn't exactly have that sort of time, so he'd see what they could do with a few hours.

He finished spreading the flour quickly, then mixed the soap he'd found in the small kitchenette with water into a paste, carefully applying it to the where the oil had splashed on the walls. It was a good enough test sample to see if this mix would work once he got around to sweeping up the oily flour and needed to clean the floor.

A bit of scrubbing—and it was not a good sign how exhausted it left him— and the walls were looking less of a disaster. It should work well enough on the floor as well.

He looked around. Well, it was still a mess, in fact it was honestly more of a mess right now, but at least it was a mess that was in the process of being cleaned.

He reached for the datapad R2 had pushed towards him earlier, trying to once again wipe the oil stain off of it from where Boba had grabbed it during his murder attempt.

There was no point in putting off the research any longer, even if there was a part of him that was—rightly so—terrified of just what he might find.

There were dozens upon dozens of files that R2 had downloaded for him, and they didn't appear to be organized in any sort of rational way. So he started with the first file on the list, keeping a spare file open so he could make notes of anything that might be even the slightest bit useful. There were coordinates for what appeared to be more droid foundry locations; weapon plans, some of which sounded rather ingenious—an extremely overpowered ion cannon did not sound like something Obi-Wan would want to meet in space—and all of them terrifyingly deadly; mentions of different leaders, most of whom Obi-Wan had never heard of; and other small tidbits.

R2 had managed to gather quite a bit of information in their brief foray into slicing, far more than Obi-Wan had expected. When this was all over, if they survived, Obi-Wan really needed to do something nice for the astromech.

He flipped to the next file, and began perusing it. Plans for a kyber based weapon, he didn't think he'd ever heard of kyber crystals used in weapons that weren't lightsabers. He frowned. Surely that wasn't right. He flicked back up to the beginning to re-read the information, trying to make sure that he wasn't misunderstanding the plans.

He had to read the information three more times before he was sure he wasn't misinterpreting the plans and the terrible truth of it sunk into his brain.

He dropped the datapad into his lap and buried his face in his hands.

Force. Force. They were researching how to create a planet killer.

This. This was—

Obi-Wan couldn't even contemplate this.

They weren't just preparing for war. This was somehow far, far worse than that.

There was a burst of excited glee and then the Force shrieked in warning. He jerked to the left, hand coming up and catching the hilt of the dagger that had been thrown at him. He looked between Boba and the dagger, and give an appreciative nod. "That was an excellent throw." A blade to the chest would have certainly been an uncomfortable way to die. "And you're quite light on your feet." He forced an encouraging smile despite the fact that most of his mind was still stuck on the information he'd read on the datapad that had fallen to the floor in front of him.

Boba was scowling. "I missed."

Obi-Wan shrugged a little. "You get too excited before you act, it radiates through the Force, anyone paying the slightest bit of attention will realize you're up to something."

Boba huffed a deep breath, storming away again. Obi-Wan wondered with faint curiosity what weapon he'd come back with next.

It showed remarkable restraint on Boba's part that so far he'd gone for less destructive weapons. But a blaster would leave marks on the ship, and the boy was probably trying to avoid that.

Obi-Wan waited until Boba was gone before picking the datapad back up.

"This is so much worse than anything I could have imagined, R2. I don't know if this is something we can stop."

R2 disconnected from where he was plugged into a computer port of the ship, before rolling over to Obi-Wan, moving around the flour still on the ground; Obi-Wan wondered faintly what he had been getting up to. R2 whistled curiously.

"They're creating a planet killer." He shook his head. "A weapon like that... they don't plan on trying to build something like that as a deterrent. No. This is something they're going to actively use." He felt faintly nauseous, which wasn't a good combination with the cracked ribs and lack of food the Geonosians had already caused. "A death star. They have plans to build something called a death star and it will have the ability to destroy entire planets if they can manage to get the research to work in practice."

R2 whistled sharply, rolling back in forth in what looked like agitation.

"It would take years." That was the only bit of mercy in the whole thing. "Decades if we've got any sort of luck. If we're really fortunate, they'll never be able to bring it past the theoretical conception into reality." He scoffed. "But we don't have that sort of luck." He took a deep breath, searching for the calm a Jedi Knight was supposed to have. Not that the rank still applied to him. "But this is still theoretical, for now at least, most of the weapon plans I've found are actual problems here and now."

R2 gave another worried little whistle. Or maybe Obi-Wan was just projecting his own worries onto the droid. He really needed to learn binary.

He sighed quietly, shoulders slumping. "I'm not sure what to do." Obi-Wan whispered. "Destroying droid foundries isn't enough. It's not a plan at all, not really."

He looked back at the plans for a station that would destroy planets.

"This isn't war." He shook his head. "This is more than that." His mind replayed Dooku's words about there being a Sith Lord in the Senate. This seemed exactly like the sort of thing a Sith would create. Except he'd found it in the Separatist's databases. But then hadn't he already wondered if Dooku was working with the Sith, rather than against them? What if Obi-Wan had been right about that? But for what purpose? Surely the Sith didn't want to destroy the galaxy just for the sake of destroying the galaxy? Surely no one was that pointlessly cruel. He was starting to feel like a conspiracy theorist. But if he was right? "We need to figure out who's behind this." 

Now if only that could be easy. 

He put down the datapad and went to see if he could find a broom or something similar. Maybe cleaning up the oil-soaked flour would help him clear his mind.

Chapter Text

R2 was 92 percent certain that Friend Obi-wan was not responding to the consistent attempts on his life in the appropriate way.

"Your form is excellent, and if you have the faster set of reflexes you'd likely be quite successful." Friend Obi-Wan slid the vibroblade into his belt and Vicious Child—a designation that R2 felt fit the small child better than his earlier designation of Human Boy—glared at Friend Obi-Wan, folding his arms in what R2 had decided was petulance. "Unfortunately, if your opponent is faster than you, you'll need to either be more creative or get closer before attacking."

Yes, R2 was 92 percent certain that Friend Obi-Wan should not be giving Vicious Child tips on how to better kill him. This seemed rather counter-intuitive.

Vicious Child behaved in what had become his standard action response and stormed off to the back of the ship.

Friend Obi-Wan watched him go, before shaking his head, huffing a small laugh as he once again dropped to his knees, dirty rag in hand/

Friend Obi-Wan had already scrubbed away the oil that had splattered onto the walls and had swept up the flour he'd laid out earlier; he was now scrubbing at the floor with a mix of detergent and hot water. This was another thing that R2 found slightly odd. Friend Obi-Wan seemed determined to clean up the mess that R2 and Boba had made.

And not just cleaning up the excess, which was only polite. He was scrubbing.

Firespray gave R2 a small shock where R2 was hooked into her systems so they could talk, making his circuits short out for .0052 seconds. She quite appreciated that Strange!Interloper, as she called Friend Obi-Wan, was cleaning up the mess. She didn't want oil tracked everywhere, thank you very much.

Friend Obi-Wan was making a strange noise as he scrubbed, there were no words, just a sort of vibrating sound that went up and down in pitch. R2 was fairly certain it was a good sound though, because Friend Obi-Wan was smiling a little, which R2 thought was good. Friend Obi-Wan had been quite distressed by everything R2 had managed to slice from Evil Dooku's systems.

R2 twisted his dome at a sound from the hallways and saw Vicious Child sneaking towards them again. He let out a warning whistle just as Vicious Child threw another sharp object.

Friend Obi-Wan twisted, and R2 wasn't sure his vision receptors had worked right. Friend Obi-Wan had just flicked the small towel he'd been holding, intercepting the flying blade and somehow sending it into a corner.

Vicious Child's mouth fell open. "How did you do that?" Vicious Child sounded impressed, which was only right, because Friend Obi-Wan, R2 decided, was indeed somewhat impressive… for an organic, anyways.

Friend Obi-Wan just smiled and shrugged. "Oh, just got lucky."

Vicious Child made the corners of his mouth go down, eyes widening. R2 was fairly sure this was the standard definition of a pout.

Friend Obi-Wan sighed. "If you come here, I'll show you."

Vicious Child jumped forward cheerfully, heedless of the fact that he was walking through an area of the floor that Friend Obi-Wan had already cleaned. 

How rude.

Friend Obi-Wan either didn’t notice—organics were sometimes very unobservant so this seemed possible—or didn’t care, and since Friend Obi-Wan had reacted illogically to most everything else, R2 could only determine that this option was equally plausible.

Friend Obi-Wan was reaching for a second rag to give to Vicious Child as he demonstrated the flick that he’d used to deflect the blade Vicious Child had thrown at him.

R2 mournfully told Firespray that he didn't understand at all.

Firespray actually seemed equally confused. Fierce!Owner often taught Young!Owner how to fight, but this was not what she'd call normal. While she did not want Young!Owner hurt, and was very glad that Strange!Interloper and R2 had not done so, she was also fairly certain, based on her observation of Fierce!Owner, that one was not supposed to encourage attempted murder. 

Fierce!Owner, Firespray informed him, was very good at murdering people who attempted to murder him.

R2 thought that perhaps Friend Obi-Wan should not be giving lessons, but taking them, in sane-and-reasonable-actions-for-organics.

Friend Obi-Wan was showing Vicious Child how to properly hold the towel, quietly explaining how to properly move his wrist. "Really, most of it's in the timing. You need to catch the blade at the right point. But here, try the flick."

Vicious Child moved his wrist sharply, and the towel sort of flopped around. Friend Obi-Wan moved closer, showing Vicious Child what he was doing wrong.

"You need a bit of spin to it."

"Like this?" Vicious Child asked, and his next flick was a little less of a flop than the earlier attempts.

R2 turned back to Firespray. He didn't understand this at all.

Firespray thought it was actually kind of cute, and asked R2 to send her a file of the interaction so she could save it. Young!Owner seemed to be enjoying himself, and it was a strange, but possibly useful talent that Fierce!Owner might like to have record of.

R2 liked Firespray too much to deny her, and carefully recorded the interaction until Vicious Child left, taking the extra rag with him and leaving Friend Obi-Wan to go back to cleaning, and the strange vibrating sound. R2 sent the file to Firespray and she thanked him.

Not long later Friend Obi-Wan stood, and his back made a strange cracking sound. R2 whistled worriedly, was Friend Obi-Wan's back damaged? R2 needed to know if Friend Obi-Wan wasn't at full operating strength before they went on any more adventures.

Friend Obi-Wan didn't understand, and instead just turned to look at R2 “This is as clean as I’m going to get it, and we're about to come out of hyperspace. Could you try to keep Boba from killing me while I get us landed?"

R2 whistled his agreement with this request. His observation of the behaviors exhibited by Vicious Child the past few hours indicated that there would likely be around fifteen minutes before Vicious Child made his next murder attempt, not that R2 would lower his guard. Vicious Child was both wily and exceptionally determined.

That was okay, R2 was also wily and exceptionally determined.

Not long later R2 felt the ship move out of hyperspace and into real space. Unsurprisingly, Vicious Child did as well and came sneaking back into the main area of the ship. R2 placed himself firmly in front of the small hallway that led to the cockpit.

Vicious Child crossed his arms. "Are we there yet?"

R2 politely asked Vicious Child, only a few of his favorite binary swears included, if it felt like they had landed yet.

Vicious Child frowned. "No, it doesn't. Are we in atmosphere?"

R2 couldn't help the beep at surprise that Vicious Child understood binary.

Vicious Child looked far more viciously pleased than R2 thought a human child of his age was supposed to be able to look. "Buir taught me." Vicious Child looked past him, craning his neck as though he'd be able to catch sight of Friend Obi-Wan.

R2 informed Vicious Child—and this time R2 reluctantly kept any swearing out of his vocabulary, he was fairly certain that one was not supposed to use such language around young organics—that there was no way that R2 would let him murder Friend Obi-Wan.

“I wasn't going to try."

Vicious Child was not a good liar and R2 informed him as much.

Vicious Child pouted.

R2 very firmly told him that the strange nature older organics had to such antics did not work on R2.

Still, R2 didn't want to have to poke Vicious Child with his electric prod, and he only had one more oil canister left, and he didn't think Friend Obi-Wan would be happy if R2 made another oil spill that Friend Obi-Wan would have to clean up. So he thought it was better to distract Vicious Child. 

The way Vicious Child had tried to electrocute Friend Obi-Wan with a comm link had been rather ingenious, if still ineffective.

Vicious Child blinked at him, frowning. "I learned to do that when I was seven." Vicious Child informed him, smile getting big and voice adopting a tone that R2 couldn’t quite register. Proud? Smug? One of those organic notes that R2 often registered as them attempting to prove their superiority. It was less annoying on Vicious Child then R2 normally found it.

R2 thought this seemed an odd choice of education for a seven year old. But Vicious Child was suitably distracted explaining how he'd done it, and then even further distracted explaining how the first time he'd tried to do it and how he'd set a couch on fire.

Vicious Child might be vicious, but still a child.

R2 didn't think Vicious Child's Father would be as easily distracted.

Not long later the soft bump of the ship landing brought Vicious Child up short, both Vicious Child and R2 were silent as they listened to Friend Obi-Wan finish landing before his steps could be heard coming out of the cockpit. R2 whistled cheerfully. They’d made it. He turned back to begin his goodbyes and watched as Vicious Child took a deep breath and pulled a blaster out from behind him, pointing it at where Friend Obi-Wan would be coming down the short hallway.

R2 whirled frantically. Not good. Not good. He rolled forward, whistling out a warning to Obi-Wan as he went as he tried to stop Vicious Child from using his blaster.

R2 was going to be too late, he reflected sadly as his sensors picked up the tell-tale whinging sound of a blaster firing.

Exactly .059 seconds later the blaster went flying through the air. R2 twisted his dome to see that Friend Obi-Wan was apparently unhurt and was now holding the blaster in his hand, looking just as unperturbed at the attempt as he had at all the other attempts.

"I must thank you for waiting to pull out a blaster until after we'd landed." Friend Obi-Wan told Vicious Child calmly. "While your ship seems remarkably sturdy, it's always a risk using high-damage weapons in a ship in flight.”

Vicious Child just scowled, though R2's data packets indicated that his sensors had picked up an emotion that seemed similar to relief, in the way the stress lines around Vicious Child's eyes disappeared, and the scowl had what looked like the edges of a smile.

How odd.

"I'm not tall enough to pilot the ship on my own, or I'd have shot you earlier." Vicious Child informed Friend Obi-Wan.

Friend Obi-Wan accepted that. "A wise decision. It's always good to know one's limitations."

That didn't make any sense to R2, because Vicious Child had still been trying to kill Friend Obi-Wan, and Friend Obi-Wan would have been just as dead and Vicious Child still just as short if any of those murder attempts had worked out.

But that was typical for the average organic’s logic, even if R2 had thought that both Vicious Child and Friend Obi-Wan were better than that. Or maybe they both realized their logic was faulty and it was just one of those strange organic interactions that never seemed to serve a purpose.

Either way, Friend Obi-Wan was still responding incorrectly to attempted murder, and R2 wearily informed Friend Obi-Wan of such. Friend Obi-Wan didn't understand of course, but Vicious Child let out an abrupt laugh, covering his mouth with his hands.

Friend Obi-Wan looked between the two of them for a moment, but didn't ask for a translation. "I've turned on your ship homing beacon, while I imagine your father already had a way of tracking his ship, and no doubt realized that Ryloth was our destination, that should help narrow down the signal." Friend Obi-Wan was carefully stowing away the datapad and giving his discarded robe a skeptical look, it was rather messy now, with oil stains all over it. Finally Friend Obi-Wan seemed to decide he didn't care, as he put it on anyways. "I apologize again for accidentally kidnapping you and any distress that might have caused."

"I wasn't distressed." Vicious Child muttered.

Friend Obi-Wan nodded, a hint of a smile on his face as he turned to R2. "That's everything, yes? Are you ready to go?"

R2 gave his agreement, before giving a quiet whistle goodbye to the very beautiful ship that had hosted them.

"Wait." Vicious Child looked upset, and R2 couldn't imagine why. They only thing they were taking from the ship was the data pad Vicious Child had tried to use as a murder instrument, and R2 thought that was more than fair. "You're just leaving me."

Friend Obi-Wan seemed genuinely startled by Vicious Child's outburst. "You'll be quite safe in the ship, especially if you lock it up after we leave. We’re on the outskirts of the nearest town, and I took a look at your security. It really is quite proficient. Your father can't be any more than a few hours behind." This was very true. R2 was quite certain that Firespray wouldn’t let anyone into the ship while Vicious Child was there alone.

Vicious Child didn't seem pleased. "That's child abandonment."

Friend Obi-Wan just blinked several times. "Given I'm already guilty of abduction of a child, I don't know that abandonment of a child is going to make much of a difference." Vicious Child employed his use of the pout, which for some reason had proven to be very effective on Friend Obi-Wan in the past few hours. Friend Obi-Wan sighed. "I understand it would give you great pleasure if I waited here for your father to kill me, but I'm afraid I have far too much to do before that can happen."

Vicious Child just pouted further. “You have to take me with you. You can’t just leave me here.”

R2 had no problem informing Vicious Child that indeed they could just leave him here, and that Firespray would take good care of him.

Vicious Child glared at him, before turning his pout back on Friend Obi-Wan.

“And why should I bring you with me?” Friend Obi-Wan asked, instead of informing Vicious Child that under no circumstances was Vicious Child coming with them like he should have done.

Vicious Child folded his arms. “So my buir can track me and then kill you when he finds me.”

Friend Obi-Wan rubbed at his face, and R2 noted that some of the oil must have still been on his hands, because it was now in Friend Obi-Wan’s face hair.

"I applaud your determination to see me dead, have you considered instead that you stay here and then you and your father can track me together?" Friend Obi-Wan suggested. "It can be a bonding activity."

This still seemed like a not good idea to R2, but perhaps at least slightly preferable to Vicious Child’s plan.

Vicious Child seemed to consider the suggestion, before shaking his head. “No. I’m coming with you.”

“Boba.” Friend Obi-Wan started.

“Please.” Vicious Child’s voice wobbled, and R2 couldn’t quite determine whether it was genuine or not.

Friend Obi-Wan sighed. "Very well then, it's not like I can force you to stay on the ship. Though I heavily encourage it." Vicious Child shook his head and Friend Obi-Wan sighed again, and he looked very tired. "R2, let's go shopping for a ship."

R2 whistled his agreement, even as he made sure to carefully store the entire interaction in his data packets for further evaluation, but he was fairly certain that this, like most of what he'd observed from Friend Obi-Wan's and Vicious Child's behavior would be considered illogical even with further study.

Being an organic seemed a tiresome, confusing way of life. R2 was very, very grateful he was a droid.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan stared tiredly at where Boba was standing, pack over one shoulder and yet another blaster holstered to his leg. The weapon looked big and cumbersome against such a small leg.

At least Boba wasn't shooting right now. Obi-Wan had only narrowly avoided the shot from earlier before he'd been able to pull the blaster from Boba's hand.

He missed his lightsaber, but his trusted weapon was somewhere back on Geonosis, still in Dooku's possession. He had to stop himself from scowling at the thought.

"May I ask what you're doing?"

Boba stuck out his chin defiantly, holding up a tracking unit. “I already told you. I’m coming with you so my Buir can track me and then kill you."

Obi-Wan sighed, he was growing strangely fond of the boy, despite his repeated attempts on Obi-Wan's life. He reminded Obi-Wan of Anakin when Anakin had been younger. The murder attempts were certainly new, but the staunch determination and stubborn nature were very familiar.

As Boba had pointed out, Jango Fett was undoubtedly going to want to kill him.

Obi-Wan had far too much to do. He simply didn't have time for that.

“Is there a need for all of this?” He waved a hand to the pack on Boba’s back, the blaster on his leg, and the other weapons he could see. “Your father should be here relatively soon. I don’t imagine we’ll be able to find much trouble between now and then.”

Boba just crossed his arms and glared up at him mulishly.

Obi-Wan just sighed, before turning to leave the ship. “All right then.”

Ryloth did not have very many options available for him, Obi-Wan noted absently as he swept through the ship yard, though in all honesty, it more closely resembled a junk yard. He closed his eyes and let the Force guide him as he looked around the ship yard.

"How much for the VCX-100?" Obi-Wan asked the twi'lek in charge.

The twi'lek gave him an appraising look, probably trying to determine just how much he'd be able to squeeze out of Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, keeping his face neutral. He didn't exactly have a great deal of money on him, but it was unlikely that the Jedi would have closed his account yet. Since he was no longer a Jedi, it would be considered theft to use those funds, but technically he had already caused massive property damage, stolen a ship, and kidnapped a child, a little more theft was practically not worth mentioning at this point.

Speaking of said kidnapped child, Boba was staring at the ship Obi-Wan had chosen with a skeptical look on his face.

Obi-Wan didn't blame him, the ship certainly didn't look space worthy.

The twi'lek gave a price in the high hundred thousands and Obi-Wan turned his attention back to the man. "Really?" He gave the ship another look. "You have got to be joking."

The twi'lek crossed his arms. "You want to get off this planet, you're gonna pay my prices."

Obi-Wan snorted. "I'm not nearly that desperate, I have access to a ship right now. How do you think I got on this planet." Not that he intended to take Fett’s ship any further than he already had.

He supposed, if worst came to worst he could wait for Fett to land and then steal whatever ship Fett had brought with him. Though, if he were Fett, he’d probably have a way to explode whatever ship he’d brought just in case Obi-Wan did exactly that.

So definitely a worst-case scenario option.

"Then what were you looking for a ship for?"

Obi-Wan snorted. "I was thinking of expanding. But at those sort of prices, it's not worth my while." He turned to go.

The twi'lek let Obi-Wan get almost to the exit before caving. "And what price would you give for the ship."

Obi-Wan didn't smile when he turned back around. "Well, if you're willing to negotiate." The next half an hour consisted of vehement arguing and a detailed overview of the ship where Obi-Wan pointed out every weakness he could find while the owner drew his attention to it's capabilities, until they gradually got the ship down to a reasonable price. Obi-Wan carefully accessed his Jedi account, thankful to see that the credits he'd been allotted for his mission to protect the Senator still available. He transferred the credits over, nodding to the ship yard owner. "A pleasure."

The twi'lek nodded, looking pleased enough at the exchange.

Obi-Wan boarded the ship again, R2 and Boba following him on. "We're going to take the ship to one of the spaceports and then I'll go find some supplies in a market." He glanced at Boba. "You can stay here or join me."

Boba narrowed his eyes at him. "I'll go with you, so you can't escape."

Obi-Wan nodded seriously, it had been nothing less than he'd expected, in fact, he'd rather been planning on it. "Of course." He turned to R2. "You'll stay with the ship."

R2 did not sound pleased, and Boba snorted a laugh at whatever R2 had said. Obi-Wan was starting to think that he had a significant gap in his knowledge, he really ought to brush up on his binary, but it’d been a long time since he’d needed the language.

He certainly hadn’t planned on acquiring a droid companion, but R2, it seemed, was a perpetual surprise. The droid had quite the reckless streak and was rather independent. The more Obi-Wan had thought about the situation, the less he thought Padme had sent R2 to help Obi-Wan and the more he thought R2 had made the decision to do that all by himself.

Obi-Wan hummed to himself at the thought, before gently nudging it to the back of his mind to percolate.

One thing at a time. Stop the Galaxy from falling into war now; when he'd managed that he could see if he still wanted to learn binary. If he survived this at all.

He got the ship settled in a spaceport easily enough and took a bit of time to look around the ship. He waited until Boba was distracted to turn to R2. "You flew the Naboo ship to Geonosis on your own, can you fly this one?"

R2 whistled what sounded like an agreement. "As soon as Boba and I are out of sight, I need you to take the ship and get it to the abandoned area outside of the ship yard, and then keep the ship ready for takeoff."

R2 whistled an affirmative and Obi-Wan nodded. "Thank you, my friend."

Obi-Wan straightened as Boba came back from where he'd been exploring the ship. "Also," he added quietly, "please give the ship a scan. Just in case Boba thought to leave something behind."

R2 gave another affirmative and Boba looked at them both suspiciously.

"Are you ready to go, Boba?" Obi-Wan asked. "I need some supplies."

Boba nodded. "You don't actually, my Buir's going to kill you first."

"Well, you're probably not wrong." He smiled at Boba. "But I need to stay optimistic."

Boba practically pouted, but then followed Obi-Wan off the ship and towards the nearest market. Obi-Wan was quick to buy what supplies he could, including a few different weapons. He might prefer his lightsaber, but he was at least decently proficient with a variety of weapons. A result of a very unusual apprenticeship, and also because Obi-Wan’s missions went wrong about as often as they went right and Obi-Wan's ability to adapt was one of the reasons he wasn't dead yet.

With his supplies in hand he checked his chrono.

They'd been on Ryloth for nearly three hours now and Obi-Wan was fairly sure that Jango Fett would be close behind them. Still, he apparently had time to spare so he bought both him and Boba some food from a stall.

Boba took it, grumbling the whole time, though he practically scarfed the food down. Obi-Wan had to hide a smile as he quickly ate his own food, he hadn't eaten since he'd left his ship on Geonosis and his body wasn't exactly pleased with him.

He really did wish that Boba had agreed to stay on Slave 1, he would have felt no guilt, or at least very little of it, leaving Boba there. Also, it would have been easy enough to leave R2 somewhere to keep watch while Obi-Wan got them a ship and supplies and then they could have waited until Fett showed up while nicely hidden somewhere it’d be hard for Fett to find and kill them.

He would, however, feel guilty about leaving the boy alone on Ryloth when he couldn't lock himself in his ship for protection. Now, Obi-Wan was going to be forced to cut things very close, because while Fett would very understandably want to kill him, Obi-Wan unfortunately had far too much to do to just let himself be killed.

Obi-Wan looked up when the Force whispered in warning.

Ah, so Fett was getting close. He reached out with the Force, trying to get a feel for when and from where Fett would come. He breathed slowly, adjusting his position.

"Well Boba." He smiled down at the boy. "It's been a sincere pleasure to meet you. I apologize again for having temporarily abducted you."

Boba looked at him, confused, before he seemed to understand what was about to happen and that confusion turned into surprise and betrayal. "Wait, you can't abandon me!"

Obi-Wan pointed to the left. "You'll see that I'm not." The moment he'd said the words he threw himself forward and to the right, darting into a neighboring alley, narrowly avoiding the three blaster bolts that had been aimed at him. He heard Boba's voice raise in excitement.

"Buir!"

Having successfully reunited father and son without immediately being killed, Obi-Wan wasn’t going to push his luck. Using the Force to speed his run, he made it to the end of the alley. He had to weave a little, avoiding the blaster bolts as several more shots were fired after him.

Dead end.

He sprung up onto the roof of the building in front of him, sparing one look back to see that Boba had truly been reunited with his father. Boba was clutching at his father, inadvertently slowing Fett's ability to chase Obi-Wan down. Obi-Wan crossed over three roofs before dropping into another alley.

There were no more shots fired at him, and Obi-Wan hoped that meant he'd officially lost Fett—he'd hoped the distraction of reuniting with his son would buy Obi-Wan a little time and also slow Fett in his chase, and Boba had been even more helpful in doing that than Obi-Wan had dared to hope.

He didn't slow his own pace though, making his way quickly through the small city back to the ship yard where he'd bought the ship.

It took almost thirty minutes, he'd chosen the spaceport on the other side of the city from the ship yard. Hopefully, if Fett had lost him and was still trying to kill him, Boba would lead his father to the spaceport, and Obi-Wan wanted to be far away from there.

He sighed when he made it to the ship yard, and there in the empty, abandoned lot he'd noted, was the ship he'd just bought.

He boarded quickly, closing the ship behind him. "R2, are you ready to go?"

R2 whistled in agreement, seemingly checking the space behind Obi-Wan to see if they were being chased. Obi-Wan let out a breath of relief as he made it to the cockpit, taking over control of the ship. "Let's get out of here, preferably before the angry bounty hunter catches up and tries to kill us.” Hopefully they’d lost the Fett’s for now, though Obi-Wan didn’t trust their luck in having lost them permanently.

R2 whistled and beeped in a way that sounded highly accusatory.

“This is not my fault,” Obi-Wan pointed out. “You were the one who picked the bounty hunter’s ship in the first place. We would have been completely fine if we’d chosen the ship I wanted to steal.”

R2 whistled again, spinning his dome in a way that somehow seemed condescending, before trundling off  in a manner that clearly meant that R2 was not going to be having this argument with him.

Obi-Wan snorted.

Well, it was time to go see if Obi-Wan could find some of those droid foundries that R2 had helped slice the locations for.

He had a war that needed preventing.

And he thought he might have a good idea—or far more likely a very, very bad idea—for how to do that.

“R2, I’m going to need your help.”

Chapter Text

R2 ran the data through his processors for a third time, calculating all of the possible scenarios based off of Friend Obi-Wan’s plan.

It was a bad plan.

He ran the data through his processors a fourth time.

A terrible plan.

R2’s calculations all indicated death was an incredibly likely consequence. And that was if they succeeded. Which, even taking into account R2’s high—but accurate—estimate of his own skills, had an unflatteringly high—88.97%!!!—chance of failure.

He ran the data through his processors for a fifth time.

Friend Obi-Wan clearly had a few wires loose. R2 filed that information with his quickly growing data packet dedicated to Friend Obi-Wan, simultaneously moving Friend Obi-Wan up the rankings of R2’s-favorite-organics-to-exist.

And yet R2 feared the terrible lack of logic that so plagued organics was perhaps transmissible, because R2 thought that he quite liked the plan.

A final analysis of the situation certified what R2 already know. Friend Obi-Wan was crazy and absolutely wouldn’t survive without R2. 

With that conclusion reached, and his data processing all in agreement, R2 highlighted some of the information on the datapad, offering a few minor tweaks. Friend Obi-Wan tilted his head as he looked at the modifications that R2 suggested.

“I see.” Friend Obi-Wan pursed his lip. “I am grateful for your insight, R2. I couldn’t do this without you.”

R2 agreed of course, and informed Friend Obi-Wan of just how lucky he was to have R2’s help.

Friend Obi-Wan chuckled, his comprehension of binary was still terribly lacking, but R2 was pleased that R2’s steady efforts at teaching Friend Obi-Wan were clearly starting to help Friend Obi-Wan improve at least slightly.

The two of them were absolutely going to pull this plan off. R2 was certain of it.

-_-

R2 let out a pleased whistle as he and Friend Obi-Wan made their way into the droid factory that R2 had discovered during his slicing.

They’d actually already been in here the night before in order to check the exact programming that the Separatists had used on the battle-droids and if it would work for Friend Obi-Wan’s plans.

It would definitely work, so long as R2 and Friend Obi-Wan were persuasive enough.

R2 was sure he could make up for any deficiencies in Friend Obi-Wan’s skills. R2 was, after all, very persuasive.

Friend Obi-Wan cleared his throat, and when that didn’t work, he cleared his throat again a little more pointedly and the two battle-droids that had been on guard finally noticed them. “Halt!”

R2 gave them a reproving whistle, because that was a highly inadequate reaction time, clearly these droids would need help if they were going to truly be successful.

“Yes, hello there.” Friend Obi-Wan smiled at the two droids. “I’d like to speak to whichever droids are in charge here? The rest of you as well, if there’s enough space for it. I have an offer for you.”

The two battle-droids—B1 units, R2 noted in his obtain-army-for-maximum-galactic-upheaval files—didn’t seem to know how they were supposed to respond to Friend Obi-Wan’s greeting, their blasters pointed at Friend Obi-Wan in confusion.

“You have no clearance to be here.” One of the B1 droids finally decided, and his fellow droid seemed glad to let the first droid make the decision.

R2 pulled out his electro-prod threateningly, which only seemed to confuse the poor droids even more—R2 added a file for avoiding-incompetency-in-obtained-army to share with Friend Obi-Wan later—their blasters wavering from pointing at Friend Obi-Wan to pointing at R2. 

“It’s a very good offer,” Obi-Wan continued, completely ignoring the bit about their lack of clearance. “Perhaps you can wait to decide whether to shoot us until after you’ve heard it?”

The two droids were practically dithering and R2 decided it was time to take control of the situation. He rolled forward, keeping his electro-prod out, and demanded that the two battle-droids take them to meet whichever droids were in charge here and that they gather all of the droids in the factory.

Some things just needed the touch of a fellow droid. The two B1 units hesitated a moment longer, but after a moment the B1 who’d denied them clearance caved. “Roger roger.”

R2 waited until they left to inform Friend Obi-Wan that his plans were the absolute worst and could they please steal a different more competent army.

Friend Obi-Wan gave him a comforting pat on his dome. “It’s fine, R2. No one said they had to be competent.” Binary lessons were clearly paying off. Either that or Friend Obi-Wan also thought they were terribly incompetent.

And while R2 disagreed—why would anyone want an incompetent army—this was Friend Obi-Wan’s plan and R2 would help Friend Obi-Wan, even if just to ensure that Friend Obi-Wan didn’t get himself killed.

He and Friend Obi-Wan followed the two droids into the factory, waiting—patiently, in Friend Obi-Wan’s case, and with disapproval in R2’s because the inefficiency was awful and would be the first thing R2 fixed—for the droids to be gathered.

Once the droid leaders were gathered—the organic counterparts were a bit tied up at the moment, courtesy of R2’s and Friend Obi-Wan’s visit last night—Friend Obi-Wan stepped forward.

“I’ve been given to understand that you’re all preparing for a war against the Republic.”

One of the B2’s, a large, hulking gray droid that R2 thought could have potentially been intimidating if not for how confused the droid seemed—though the B2 units did, at least, seem less perennially anxious than the B1s—stepped forward. “You’re not a Separatist Leader.”

“No,” Friend Obi-Wan agreed. “I’m not.”

“You have no clearance to be here.” There were an awful lot of blasters pointed at them, R2 prepared his second and last oil canister for possible deployment.

“But nor am I with the Republic. I’m here as a…” Friend Obi-Wan paused for a moment, “an invested third-party, you could call it. And I’d like to acquire your services.”

The droids all froze at that, and R2 could tell that their processing units were struggling to understand what Friend Obi-Wan was offering, R2 rolled forward to clarify that Friend Obi-Wan wanted to hire them.

“We’re made to fight for the Separatists against the Republic.”

Friend Obi-Wan smiled. “Actually, your programming systems merely state that you’re to fight against the Republic, they never specify that you need to fight for the Separatists. I’m here to offer an… alternative.” Friend Obi-Wan held up his datapad. “I have the terms of services right here. Fighting will be voluntary, for those who don’t want to fight, we will work to modify you so that you have access to your own coding. There are many avenues you could pursue, the Bounty Hunters guild is exceptionally tolerant when it comes to allowing droids work, R2 and I have compiled a list of other occupations that—”

“Farming?” A B1 droid asked, and the droid was shifting almost neurotically, clearly someone hadn’t been careful with their programming. “Could we be farmers?”

Friend Obi-Wan seemed surprised by that. “Uh, yes. You could be farmers, if you’d like. As I said, the terms of service include the freedom to reprogram your own coding, though we ask that you give your word not to harm me or mine.”

The droids, it turned out, were professional enough to not titter—which R2 was reluctantly impressed with, he hadn’t expected much from the group of them—but R2 could tell they were interested.

R2 rolled forward, reluctantly retracting his electro-prod—it wasn’t good form to threaten while negotiating, or so Friend Obi-Wan had said, even if R2, personally, was dubious—to add his own assurances. It always came better from another droid, there were some things that organics just didn’t understand or know how to convey.

After R2 finished, the droid leaders gathered together. Finally, the big B2 unit that had apparently been nominated spokes-droid stepped forward, and really, they were far too noisy when they moved, no stealth whatsoever, who was in charge of that poor design choice? “What are you hiring us for?”

Friend Obi-Wan smiled. “I’m going to take over the Republic, of course. I’d appreciate the help.”

-_-

They weren’t really going to take over the Republic much to R2’s dismay. R2 thought that taking over the Republic would be a most excellent adventure.

No, they were just stealing the CIS army so that the CIS couldn’t use said army.

They had seven foundries on their list and so far, one foundry down, it was—to both R2’s and Friend Obi-Wan’s surprise—a remarkable success.

With their newly acquired army, or partial army, they cleared the foundry of droids before destroying it so that the CIS couldn’t use it to attempt to re-build their army, stole the CIS droid ships and any extra fuel they could find, and took off for the second foundry.

To R2’s surprise things went even better there, the newer droids even more easily convinced than the first group, once their fellow battledroids spoke up in favor of the plan.

Friend Obi-Wan seemed even more surprised than R2 did. “Things never go this well. Keep a sharp lookout, R2. I guarantee you, things are about to go wrong.”

Friend Obi-Wan was clearly wrong, as foundry three and four went just as well as the first two, and Obi-Wan officially declared R2 the Grand General of the Droid Army when one of the droids asked who their leader was.

R2 wondered if he could convince Obi-Wan to give him a proper oil bath after this. If he was going to be the Grand General of the Droid Army he wanted to look the part, that was a lesson that Mistress Padme had taught him.

Appearances were important.

A thought that made a sudden and sharp reoccurrence when, on their way to the sixth foundry, and hopefully the sixth addition to their army, R2 caught sight of her.

Firespray was back, and here R2 was, grimy and covered in dust.

R2 wondered if she’d be impressed with his promotion. She’d not been fond of the fact that he and Friend Obi-Wan were trying to save the Republic, but perhaps their rather convoluted plan, that involved stealing an army and pretending they were going to take over the Republic would be more impressive.

A moment later his processing unit reminded him of a minor problem associated with Firespray’s presence.

The ship landed right in front of them and a heavily armored organic—presumably Vicious Child’s Father, who, if Vicious Child’s Father was anything like Vicious Child, would probably not stop trying to kill Friend Obi-Wan—launched himself from the barely descended ship ramp in an attack at Friend Obi-Wan.

Perhaps, R2 thought disappointedly as he prepared his electro-prod and oil canisters for deployment, Friend Obi-Wan had been right when he said that something was about to go wrong.

The presence of Vicious Child’s Father was a solid indication of wrong.

But not if R2 could help it!

R2 was now Grand General R2 and no one threatened Friend Obi-Wan on his watch! He sent out firm instructions to the four droids that were escorting them, and watched proudly as they all raised their blasters.

“Hold fire!” Friend Obi-Wan snapped out, pushing Vicious Child’s Father—or as R2 decided, Stubborn Hunter—backward with Friend Obi-Wan’s strange Force ability.

“Buir!” That would explain Friend Obi-Wan’s instruction to hold fire, R2 realized, as Vicious Child ran down the ship ramp and between Friend Obi-Wan and Stubborn Hunter. R2 seconded Friend Obi-Wan’s order, and the four droids slowly lowered their weapons. “You said you weren’t going to kill him, yet.”

R2 wasn’t sure who was more surprised at that, Friend Obi-Wan or R2. But then Vicious Child was quite strange, and R2 had given up on understanding him.

“Well that would be a slightly alarming surprise,” Friend Obi-Wan muttered, backing up a little, hand still on his blaster. “I don’t think I want to know why Fett would want me alive, that seems inherently worse than being killed.”

R2 disagreed with that, but Friend Obi-Wan did not seem to appreciate that dead was a bad thing.

Stubborn Hunter removed his helmet and R2 noted that Stubborn Hunter and Vicious Child were definitely what organics considered a family unit, their faces looked disturbingly like one another. And how was a poor droid supposed to tell them apart! Organics looked annoyingly similar most of the time, not at all like droids.

“We’ve been tracking you,” Stubborn Hunter said slowly, in that same way Friend Obi-Wan did when he was doing his processing out loud.

“I assumed as much.”

“I got a tracker on you!” Vicious Child offered, and R2 recognized it as Vicious Child’s version of gleeful. “On the vibro-blade I threw at you and you stuck in your belt!”

R2 ran a scan on Friend Obi-Wan annoyed that he’d somehow missed that tracker earlier. Friend Obi-Wan muttered a few interesting swears under his breath that R2 immediately added to his favorite-words-to-use-when-dealing-with-fools file. “That was well done, Boba. Though I would suggest that next time such a situation arises, that you don’t mention the tracking until you’re positive you’ve accomplished your objective in doing the tracking, and probably not even then.” Friend Obi-Wan removed the vibro-blade in question, looking down at it for a moment before tossing it on the ground between them.

Stubborn Hunter let out a heavy sigh. “He was being serious. I had thought he was exaggerating. But you’re really as ridiculously idiotic and as foolish as Boba claimed.”

R2 let out a sharp whistled at that. Because Friend Obi-Wan was very much a ridiculous organic, but Stubborn Hunter was absolutely not allowed to say as much!

That was for R2 to say!

Vicious Child giggled.

Stubborn Hunter and Friend Obi-Wan both ignored them.

“As I said, we’ve been tracking you.”

Friend Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, giving R2 a look that seemed to be asking R2 to join his exasperation. R2 spun his dome in agreement. “As I said. I assumed as much.”

“What, exactly, are you trying to do with the army you’ve somehow collected.”

R2 rather firmly told Stubborn Hunter to mind his own business.

“You’ll find it is my business,” Stubborn Hunter responded without missing a beat. Vicious Child had said that Stubborn Hunter was the one that had taught him binary, so R2 shouldn’t have been quite as surprised as he was, but his processing units still took a half-second longer to realize Stubborn Hunter had understood and answered.

“We’re going to take over the Republic,” Friend Obi-Wan answered. R2 beeped in indignation, they weren’t going to give them answers! “Or at least that’s what you can tell your employers.”

R2 paused at that, and then conceded. They needed to spread the word somehow and they couldn’t do that by attacking the Republic. Rumors were a good answer to that.

Stubborn Hunter narrowed his eyes. “Liar.”

Friend Obi-Wan didn’t react. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, I’ll do what needs doing.”

“Can I help?” Vicious Child looked far too excited at the prospect. R2 put him on the R2’s-favorite-organics-to-exist list, though he was at the bottom for now.

“No. You—”

Stubborn Hunter leaned backward a little, clearly processing information. “No, Boba’s right, we’re going to help you. Or rather, you’re going to help me.” Stubborn Hunter pointedly hefted his blaster a little. “You kidnapped my kid and now you’re going to make it up to me… or I’ll kill you. I have a proposition for you.”

Friend Obi-Wan sighed. “I have such a bad feeling about this.”

R2 disagreed. Despite Stubborn Hunter’s threat—which hadn’t been a very good one if R2’s opinion was asked—R2 had a very good feeling about this. He could feel it in his circuits. 

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan had not planned on ending back on Fett’s ship anytime soon. 

Yet here he was.

And really, after all that effort into getting a ship he wasn’t pleased with the fact that he was being forced to leave it behind for now. But apparently Fett thought that if Obi-Wan had his own ship he’d try and get away.

Which, all right, Fett maybe had a point. Obi-Wan was very busy right now and he didn’t have time for Fett and whatever he wanted. 

He still had more droid foundries to find and convince to join his army. Still had to put together a manifesto of some sort to present to both Republic and Separatists. Something that would hold up politically, but built in with compromises he was willing to make so that he could be convinced to ‘concede’ once the imminent threat of war had passed and both governments remembered that there was such a thing as ‘diplomacy’ and ‘negotiations’. Which unfortunately everyone seemed to have forgotten.

But no, now he was being delayed by Fett.

He, R2, and their four escort droids had been ‘welcomed’ back onto Slave I. 

Boba had been sent to do his homework and R2 had hooked back up to the ship to ‘talk’, which Obi-Wan found oddly endearing.

The four droids that had been escorting him and R2 were somewhat awkwardly settling in the cargo hold, which left Obi-Wan with Fett in the cockpit.

Obi-Wan should probably ask what it was Fett wanted, but Obi-Wan was tired and he found it more productive to stare at the stars and mentally readjust his plans and begin re-composing the manifesto he planned to send to the Republic as Fett prepared them for hyperspace

Unfortunately, Fett didn’t seem inclined to waste time. “You stole my ship and kidnapped my kid. In any other circumstances even one of those acts would be deserving of a blaster bolt through your throat.”

Obi-Wan turned a little, because yes, he was well aware that was what Fett would like to do, but Obi-Wan didn’t have the time to waste on this. “Yes, well, either get on with it or get over it.”

Fett snorted, but Obi-Wan sensed a hint of amusement from the bounty hunter. “And most people would be smart enough not to be quite so antagonistic.”

“Yes, well, I’m very busy Fett.”

Fett turned in his seat, and the look he gave Obi-Wan was sharp and assessing. “Yes, I can see that. Six droid foundries in a month. I’m fairly certain I can account for every moment of your time, between traveling, recruiting your new army, and destroying the foundries behind you so that they can’t be put to work creating more armies since you’ve stolen theirs.”

Obi-Wan shrugged, he had said he was busy. “I take it you have a point to all this?”

Fett tilted his head, and Obi-Wan had no doubt that he was currently being judged. “What exactly is your plan when they start sending the clone army after you?”

Obi-Wan was still working on that part of the plan. “I haven’t figured out details.” He didn’t like the thought of senselessly murdering them because the Republic was being foolish. He could try and stun them and take them hostage, but he didn’t have the resources to care for that many people. He could stun them and then send them back to the Republic, but that would just result in a never-ending cycle.

He was making things up as he went and inwardly despairing about that fact.

“Have you considered recruiting them?”

Obi-Wan had actually. “I imagine they’d be much harder to convince then the droids, and even if I could convince them, there’s the problem that the Kaminoans would almost certainly report me to the Republic or the Jedi if I tried to steal their army.”

“Not if they don’t realize you’re no longer a Jedi. If you’re just there to pick up your army, and you happen to have the trusted progenitor there helping you.”

Obi-Wan frowned, the way Fett said it made it seem like Fett had been thinking about this for a while. “Is this your ‘proposition’ as you called it?” He leaned forward. “What do you get out of it?”

Fett scowled at him. “That’s none of your concern.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “You’re making it my concern by pulling me into it.”

Fett leaned forward in a copy of Obi-Wan’s position, and he was practically right in Obi-Wan’s space now. “Listen, Jetii, you want to save your worthless Republic, anyone with any sense can see that. Your methods are bizarre, yes, but they might just work, but only if you’re willing to go all the way. And right now, I’m willing to help you do that.” Fett’s voice was a low snarl. “Does it benefit me? I’m not a charity, so obviously, it’ll be benefitting me. But you don’t need to know my personal motivations, are we clear?”

Obi-Wan had to put in effort to not roll his eyes. He refused to be intimidated by the bounty hunter, no matter how dangerous a man he was. “First, I’m not longer a Jedi, Fett. It’s the only reason I can do this. And second, if your personal motivations start getting in the way of me protecting this Republic, then—”

“Don’t worry yourself, Kenobi. Fortunately for you, our motivations are aligned.”

For now, at least. Obi-Wan considered it a moment longer, but then decided that for now he’d let it be. Obi-Wan had worked with far more dubiously immoral characters than Fett before. And well, from a lot of perspectives, Obi-Wan probably looked dubiously immoral as well. He mentally flinched at the thought.

It was fine though, he told himself, his own reputation and perceived character was wholly secondary.

“What do you want from me, Fett?”

Fett stared a moment longer before nodding, apparently satisfied with whatever he saw, and leaning back in his chair again. “I want you to steal the clone army, I would have thought we’d made that clear.”

“And beyond that?”

Fett turned away from him to stare at the viewport. “I don’t really care beyond that. Do what you will.”

It was a lie, Obi-Wan was fairly certain of that. But also… not. Obi-Wan shook his head. Trying to understand Fett was likely a useless endeavor and not exactly a mystery that Obi-Wan thought he needed to prioritize trying to unravel right now.

He’d try and recruit the clone army to his cause, and then whether he failed or succeeded he and Fett would hopefully never cross paths again.

He didn’t think he could count on getting lucky twice, when it came to keeping Fett from wanting to kill him.

He stood, stretching. “I assume we’re headed to Kamino then?” he asked. Fett seemed the sort to assume he’d get what he wanted and just go forward with his plans regardless of getting an agreement.

“Yes.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I’m going to be in your hold, speaking with R2 if you need me.”

Fett waved a hand at him in what was clear dismissal and Obi-Wan couldn’t quite stop himself from making a face at him.

He headed out of the cockpit and back to the main hold. R2 was still hooked up to the ship and the four other droids had temporarily shut themself down. Obi-Wan took a seat on the floor beside R2.

He might as well try to meditate while he waited for R2 to be ready to talk.

Of course, the moment he closed his eyes and started settling into something resembling peaceful meditation, the Force niggled at him that he was being watched.

Even with the warning, Obi-Wan was hard pressed not to flinch back when he opened his eyes to find Boba three inches away.

“Is there something I can do for you, Boba?”

“What were you doing?” Boba asked, and the keen look in his eyes warned Obi-Wan that this wasn’t just idle curiosity.

“I was meditating.”

Boba nodded and then immediately dismissed it. “I almost poked you.”

Obi-Wan tilted his head in question. “I see.”

“Does that mean I’d have been able to kill you? Does that mean I win?”

Obi-Wan blinked a few times. “No, that’s… not what that means.” 

“But, I totally could have! You were all out of it and not paying attention!” Boba’s eyes were bright and excited, clearly delighted at the thought of having finally gotten one over on him. Obi-Wan was almost tempted to give it to Boba.

But he had raised a ten year old before.

He pursed his lips as though in thought. “I see what you’re saying. You might have poked me, but did you poke me?”

Boba narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“Then how do you know you could have?”

Boba frowned at that and Obi-Wan had no doubt about what was about to happen next.

Obi-Wan leaned back and to the side as Boba’s hand flashed forward, catching Boba when the sudden lunge knocked him off balance. The boy wriggled a little in his arms, and Obi-Wan could feel a slight embarrassment in the Force.

Obi-Wan gently settled Boba back on his knees. “A nice effort.”

“But predictable,” Boba muttered, looking up at him with a pout.

Obi-Wan fought down a smile. “It was a little predictable, yes.”

“So what could I have done that wouldn’t have been predictable?”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “Well, that’s not really something I can tell you, is it? Then you’ll become predictable.”

“Well, I wouldn’t use it on you,” Boba argued. “I’d use it on someone else.”

They were interrupted by R2 disengaging from the ship and whistling derogatorily. 

“Yeah, well I could take you.” Boba sent R2 a mutinous glare.

Before R2 could respond to that with the offense that Obi-Wan had no doubt R2 felt, and before Fett could walk in on Obi-Wan being a passive observer to his kid and Obi-Wan’s droid arguing, Obi-Wan interrupted. “Perhaps this ship has seen enough mess for now, and we can avoid the two of you having another fight.”

A moment later Fett stepped into the hold. “I was wondering what happened that had caused my ship to need a cleaning. I don’t think the floors have been that clean since I’ve had it.”

Obi-Wan paused, but regretted it when Boba immediately jumped in with his version of the story. “In order to kill Obi-Wan I had to fight pass R2! But R2 couldn’t keep up with me, so he sprayed oil everywhere to try and stop me. It didn’t work though!”

Well, that had a… passing resemblance to the truth. 

Fett nodded, and his eyes had the look of someone who had heard this story before. “Yes, at which point, Obi-Wan decided to clean up after himself.” Fett was watching him, and there was amusement in his eyes, though Obi-Wan wasn’t certain what he found amusing. Surely not that Obi-Wan had cleaned up the spilled oil? That was only common courtesy.

“Yes, well, it was a mess.”

Fett tilted his head as though observing him. “You do have the look of a neat-nick.”

Obi-Wan huffed at that. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Fett hummed. “I haven’t decided.”

“You can help me clean my room if you want,” Boba offered, smiling up at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan found he wasn’t certain if Boba genuinely thought it was a kind offer or if he really just didn’t want to have to clean his room and hoped Obi-Wan would. “It’s always kind of a mess.”

Fett answered before Obi-Wan could. “Nice try, Boba. You still need to clean your own room.”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “You heard your buir.”

Boba sighed.

“That was an instruction for now, Boba.”

Boba pouted, but headed off. Obi-Wan watched him go. “How many attempts on my life should I expect on our way to Kamino?”

Fett shrugged. “A few.” Obi-Wan could handle the attempts from Boba, but Obi-Wan really hoped that he wouldn’t have to see any of those attempts coming from Fett. He hadn’t signed up for that.

R2 let out a mournful whistle.

Obi-Wan sent the droid a hurt look. “That’s not fair, R2, I haven’t died yet.”

Both Fett and R2 let out disbelieving sounds, as though they weren’t sure how he was still alive. Which really, that wasn’t fair. These were very special circumstances he’d found himself in, and it was hardly fair for them to judge him on this.

He was a very rational, put together person… most of the time.

“I’m going to make dinner, any allergies?”

“Hoi broth.” Obi-Wan sent a narrow-eyed look up at Fett. “Which is not an invitation to spike my food with it.”

Fett grinned at him, it was not a nice grin, though it looked unfairly good on Fett’s face. “I’ll save any attempts on your life until after I’ve gotten what I want from you.”

“Fair enough.” Hopefully someone new would have ticked Fett off by then and earned Fett’s less-than-desirable attentions.

Fett walked away and Obi-Wan turned back to R2.

“I hope you had a good conversation with the ship, R2?”

R2 let out a smug sounding hum and Obi-Wan immediately decided he didn’t want to know what the two had talked about. 

“We’re headed to Kamino. We’ll be trying to expand our army base.”

The next few minutes were filled with R2 interrogating him, and the two of them putting together further plans.

They wouldn’t use quite the same pitch on the clone soldiers as they had the droids. Obi-Wan sighed a little as he realized he was going to have to talk to Fett more. Fett would hopefully have a far better idea of what offers would be more appealing to the clones than Obi-Wan did.

Hopefully Fett was feeling helpful.

For some reason, Obi-Wan doubted it.

-_-

The rest of the trip went surprisingly smoothly. Obi-Wan had interrogated Fett as much as Fett was willing about what sort of terms the clones would want. He and R2 had kept revising their plans. Boba tried to ‘kill’ him a few more times, but mostly he seemed interested in interrogating Obi-Wan while his father sat nearby and scoffed.

At first, Obi-Wan could admit that he’d found the behavior a little annoying. Until he’d realized that Fett was, for some reason, trying to get a reaction out of him.

At which point, Obi-Wan found himself purposefully phrasing things in a way that would make it almost impossible for Fett to not scoff.

Fett had caught on quick, however, and had realized what he was doing and had retaliated by doing his best not to react at all to even the most ludicrous things Obi-Wan said.

Overall, Obi-Wan thought he could consider it a win. Or at the very least, he was certain that Fett hadn’t won, and he could settle for a tie much more gracefully than Fett could. Which was a win in and of itself.

Obi-Wan joined Fett in the cockpit as they prepared to come out of hyperspace. “Are you going to tell me the real reason you brought me here?”

It wasn’t that the curiosity was killing him, Obi-Wan could handle not knowing things. But he found himself… intrigued. Fett was a bundle of contradictions, Obi-Wan had no doubt that Fett would kill anyone who hurt Boba, and yet Obi-Wan was here, having kidnapped Boba—accidentally, he still felt the need to add—but still alive and unhurt.

“No.” Fett looked up at him, hint of a smile on his face accompanied by a clear warning to not push further.

“I will find out, you know.”

Fett scoffed, and Obi-Wan added a mental point to his tally. “Keep dreaming, Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t quite restrain himself with an opening like that. “Wouldn’t you just love to be in my dreams, Fett.”

Fett looked somewhat shocked, before a somewhat lewd smile crossed his face. “You saying I’m not already?”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “Not by a long shot.”

Fett shrugged. “I suppose I’ll settle for staying in your nightmares.”

“Not even there, Fett. Not even there.”

That seemed truly offensive to Fett. “I’ll have you know—” he pushed a few buttons and they dropped out of hyperspace “—that I am truly—”

Obi-Wan froze, turning to Kamino in front of them. “Oh, this is a complication.”

“What?” Fett cut off, and Obi-Wan could sense the irritated scowl, either at the words or at Obi-Wan ruining his attempts at banter. “We haven’t even landed on planet, yet. What could have possibly complicated matters.”

“Master Yoda is here.” The Grandmaster’s presence was a warm beacon in the Force. Normally, Obi-Wan found the presence of the Grandmaster a calming, soothing thing. 

This was far from a normal situation. It was so far from a normal situation that even taking into account Obi-Wan’s rather interesting and unusual past, this situation fell so far off the radar that Obi-Wan was already despairing at the thought of trying to explain.

The softened atmosphere of the moment before was gone as Fett stiffened. “You’re not backing out of our deal, Kenobi.”

“I didn’t say I was going to,” Obi-Wan retorted annoyed. “I just said this complicated things.”

Fett’s eyes on him were piercing. “You better not, Kenobi. I need you.”

“I’ve got this under control.” He specifically didn’t say anything about what Fett had said, he suspected Fett didn’t want Obi-Wan to have noticed the truth or desperation behind it. Obi-Wan quietly re-evaluated just what he suspected Fett’s real motivations were, but suspected that he’d still be surprised when he finally found out what they were.

-_-

“Expect to see you here, I did not.” Yoda settled slowly into a seat as they sat down. Boba had disappeared, but Fett had followed behind the two of them, probably to ensure that Obi-Wan didn’t ‘back out of their deal’. “Saddened, I was, to hear that left the Order you had.”

Obi-Wan winced. “Master Yoda, I can explain.”

Yoda shook his head. “An explanation I do not need. Trust you had reasons I do, young Obi-Wan.”

The emotion that welled up in Obi-Wan’s chest at that was hard to name. Relief maybe, gratification. There had been some small part of him that had assumed that everyone would assume the worst of his actions. And yet, here Master Yoda was, trusting him.

“Thank you, Master Yoda.” Obi-Wan hesitated, there was a part of him that didn’t want to explain his plan, wanted to maintain Yoda’s trust as long as he could. “But there are some things I need to explain.”

But Yoda was on Kamino, and Obi-Wan wouldn’t be able to keep Yoda unaware as he went for his plan. His best shot would be to get Yoda on his side.

But how could he possibly? He was going against the very Republic. Yes, it was mostly to help the Republic, but that didn’t change that for all intents and purposes Obi-Wan would look like the greatest traitor the Republic, or the Jedi, had ever known.

“Then listen, I will.”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. “Dooku claims that there’s a Sith Lord in the Senate, controlling the Republic.” He shrugged. “That may or may not be true, but there are a few things that are clear. Two armies have rather miraculously made an appearance at an incredibly optimal time to throw the galaxy into straight out war.”

“See this, I do. Hope there still is. Diplomacy we have.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes, we do. And I’m hoping that diplomacy will work. I just… don’t think it will, when both sides have an army they can use instead.”

Yoda’s ears flattened a little, but Obi-Wan was fairly certain Yoda agreed with him. Yoda, after all, had lived far longer than Obi-Wan and had seen too many times just how much easier aggression could be.

“A fear this is.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Which is why I stole the majority of the droid army.” He took a deep breath. “And I plan to ah, declare myself enemy number one.” 

Yoda frowned. “Flaws, this—”

“And I’m hoping to steal the clone army as well.”

Yoda blinked several times, looking genuinely surprised. Which, given everything Yoda had seen in his life, was an incredible feat.

“If I have both armies, then if the Republic or CIS want to go to war they’ll have to actually convince the public that it’s the right action, and even then, they’d be hesitant to actually go to war when I have… well, two armies.”

“Wish to keep the Republic hostage by fear, you will?”

“No!” Obi-Wan exclaimed, feeling immediately sickened. “I’ve been speaking with the droid army and with Fett, though I also hope to speak to the clones. But I’m hoping to keep things from escalating into a galactic war for as long as possible, and then to negotiate rights as regular citizens for both the droid and clone armies…” he winced a little. “At which point I will turn myself in and face the consequences of my actions.”

Behind him Fett stirred, but Obi-Wan ignored him. 

Treason, of course, had only one consequence he could expect. But he would have kept the Republic from falling apart, and would have hopefully spared pulling the Jedi’s reputation through the mud.

Yoda closed his eyes, and Obi-Wan could feel him reaching out to the Force, communing softly with an ease and depth that Obi-Wan admired.

Finally Master Yoda opened his eyes. “Condone this course of action, I cannot.”

Obi-Wan felt his stomach sink, unsure how he was supposed to go forward. Fett had, annoyingly enough, been right about one thing. If he was to be truly successful, getting the clones on his side was a necessity. But if Master Yoda thought that Obi-Wan needed stopping, then Obi-Wan… Obi-Wan couldn’t and wouldn’t bring himself to fight Master Yoda.

“Only one course of action does that leave you,” Master Yoda continued, and Obi-Wan could suddenly feel the Force swirling in strange anticipation. “Abduct me you must.”

Obi-Wan felt his jaw drop, because of everything he might have expected Yoda to say, that was not what he’d expected. “What?”

Behind him, Obi-Wan could hear Fett trying to bring his breathing under control before the man apparently lost it and started laughing.

Master Yoda was nodding seriously. “Yes, abduct me you must. A shame it is, that abductee’s syndrome will I quickly develop.”

“Master Yoda!” Obi-Wan didn’t know if he’d ever been this appalled in his life, and he’d raised Anakin for a decade!

Master Yoda gave him a small smile, and Obi-Wan smiled back in helpless confusion. What was the old Master even thinking? “Old I am, very wearying it is, to be taken hostage. A nap I think I will take.”

Behind him, Fett was still laughing while Obi-Wan tried and failed to compute Yoda's actions. Obi-Wan hoped he choked on his laughter, the bastard.

Chapter Text

R2 wasn’t sure what he was supposed to think of the newest addition to their team. Vicious Child and Stubborn Hunter had been acceptable additions to their team, particularly since their presence ensured that R2 had further opportunity to spend time with the glorious Firespray.

But this strange creature, ‘Master Yoda’ as Friend Obi-Wan called him, did not come with a lovely ship to speak for him.

R2 spun his dome as the strange organic hobbled past him, cane tapping against the floor, as the organic followed after Friend Obi-Wan.

R2 sent Friend Obi-Wan a questioning beep, because if they were going to take over the Republic, even if it was just pretend, they couldn’t be slowed down by unnecessary organics.

Friend Obi-Wan sighed, sending a look that R2 calculated qualified as exasperated towards both him and the hobbling Jedi. “Don’t worry, R2. I’m sure Master Yoda will be able to keep up just fine.”

The creature let out a strange sound, and R2 tentatively labeled the sound as a delighted chortle. “My nap, I need before keep up with you, I will.”

Friend Obi-Wan’s face twisted up in what R2 decided was both despairing and exasperated. “Right. I’m sure you can find a corner to curl up in. Or maybe Fett will let you bunk in his ship.”

The organic let out that same non-verbal noise that Friend Obi-Wan often did, before shaking his head. “Better idea do I have.” The next few moments would need a careful replay, R2 decided, as the strange creature jumped, bounced off a wall, and then landed on Friend Obi-Wan’s back. Clearly, this ‘Master Yoda’—new designation: Strange Organic—was the tricky sort, and R2 would need to keep a close visual receptor on him. “Comfortable enough, this is.”

R2 pulled out his electro-prod, asking Friend Obi-Wan if he needed R2 to take care of Strange Organic for him. Friend Obi-Wan just sighed, giving his electro-prod an amused look, before adjusting Strange Organic so that he could was in a more comfortable position. “It’s fine. At least if he’s on my back I know he’s not getting into trouble.”

Strange Organic let out a strange noise that after a few moments R2 determined fit the definition of a ‘cackle’. “Hostage, I am. Troublemaker you are.”

Friend Obi-Wan ignored him. “Come on, R2, Fett said he was having Boba gather the clone leaders all in one place while he distracts the Kaminoans.”

R2 followed. R2 hadn’t yet had the opportunity to see how competent the clone army was, but after dealing with the droid army, R2 was not expecting much.

Friend Obi-Wan led them to a side room, and R2 gave the dozen or so clones waiting for them a cursory examination. They were all standing at attention, dressed in full armor with their helmets at their sides. They looked much like Stubborn Hunter and Vicious Child. 

Friend Obi-Wan took his place at the front of the room, R2 watched as Strange Organic let out an exaggerated snoring sound. The clones, R2 noted with pleasure, did not react beyond a flickering of their eyes as they took in the situation. 

Vicious Child jumped forward from where he had been sitting in the back, practically hanging himself off of Friend Obi-Wan.

Friend Obi-Wan ran a hand through Vicious Child’s hair in a way that seemed more automatic then planned. Vicious Child looked like he was 3.4 seconds away from mimicking the creature R2’s files called a Tooka and start purring at the affectionate, if somewhat distracted, attention.

Still, between Strange Organic and Vicious Child hanging onto him, Friend Obi-Wan would be hard-pressed to move quickly if something went wrong during this conversation. R2 prepared his oil canister and his flame igniter, just in case.

A wall of oil and flame would give R2 and Friend Obi-Wan enough time to escape it necessary.

“Hello there,” Friend Obi-Wan started, and there was a different sort of smile on his face that R2 couldn’t quite categorize, but seemed to help the clone leaders relax. Charming, R2 decided. Friend Obi-Wan was being charming. Instead of launching straight into their planned speech to convince the clones that joining their army was a good idea, Friend Obi-Wan instead took time talking somewhat cheerfully with the clones, getting their names—first numbers, and then actual names—and getting to know them.

It was what R2 had determined a normal organic interaction to create camaraderie. It also seemed to be something that Friend Obi-Wan enjoyed doing.

Finally, Friend Obi-Wan let out a soft sigh, straightening in a way that made it clear he was ready to start.

“I’ve been told you’ve trained all your lives to protect the Republic.” 

One of the clones—R2 checked his records, Cody, the clone had called himself—stepped forward. “Yes General, you’ll find that we’re prepared to fight and die for the Republic.”

Friend Obi-Wan blinked at that, looking uncomfortable. “Yes, well, I was hoping you might be willing to be… adaptable on that.”

The clones shifted minutely, and R2 got the sense that despite very limited movement taking place, they were communicating with each other. Not quite as good as a droid could manage within a network, but still it was a promising sign of competence.

“Sir?” The word came out neutral, whatever the clone—designation still needed—thought of Friend Obi-Wan’s words indecipherable.

Friend Obi-Wan seemed to consider his words carefully. R2 had one moment before R2 realized that Friend Obi-Wan was going to throw away their entire script. He let out a mournful whistle, that had been a good script. “I don’t want to see any of you die. Frankly, as far as I can see there is no reason for any of you to die in a war that doesn’t truly need to be fought. However, I also have no doubt that the Republic will… not see it that way.”

More almost imperceptible movement. 

Friend Obi-Wan continued. “To protect the Republic, to protect you, I would like to…” Friend Obi-Wan closed his eyes, letting out an exhausted sigh. “I would like to offer you an alternative. One that I believe will both enrage the Republic, but protect it from it’s own bloodthirsty foolhardiness.”

There was a long moment of silence, before one of the clones—records indicated Fox, designation still needed—slowly spoke up. “You’re talking about deserting. About… treason.”

Friend Obi-Wan paused. “Yes. But it’s the only thing I can think to do.”

R2 let out an uneasy whir at that. This still felt dangerous. If the clones decided that Friend Obi-Wan was an enemy, it would be difficult for them to get out of here. R2 should have brought part of his own army for back up, but Friend Obi-Wan had vetoed that idea.

No one started shooting, and Strange Organic opened one of his eyes, peering over Friend Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Join me as a hostage you can.”

Friend Obi-Wan closed his eyes. “Please, please do not join Master Yoda as a hostage. I’ve already reached my limit of accidental kidnappings.”

“If General Yoda is your hostage, why does he still have his weapon?” Someone from the back asked. “That’s against hostage procedure.”

Vicious Child piped up at that. “Obi-Wan’s not very good at being a criminal, yet. He kidnapped me and then taught me better ways to try and kill him.”

One of the clones—Cody, designation still waiting—shifted at that, the discussion of treason clearly sidetracked at the discovery of Friend Obi-Wan’s failure to consider proper self-preservation tactics. “That seems poorly thought out.”

“It was an accident,” Friend Obi-Wan stressed, apparently missing that it was the continued encouragement of the murder attempts, not the kidnapping, that the soldier had an issue with. “I didn’t mean to kidnap him.”

The clone tilted his head, examining Obi-Wan. “We’ll need to go over your security procedures, sir. Allowing yourself to be killed will ruin your plans to take over the Republic.”

“We’re not taking over the Republic, we’re only pretending that we’re going to,” Friend Obi-Wan pointed out. “And Fett has agreed to not try and kill me until after, and Boba is quite considerate in his murder attempts.”

The clone shifted again, face grimacing. “All respect, General. But we’re going to need to revamp your protection policies.”

R2 let out a grateful whistle at that, Sensible Soldier was hired. He could be R2’s fellow Grand General.

Vicious Child seemed disgruntled at the idea that his murder attempts might by stymied by the new addition to their Grand Army of the… R2 stopped at that. They would need an appropriate name for their movement.

Friend Obi-Wan seemed equally disgruntled. “I assure you—“

“It’s a condition, sir.” Sensible Soldier interrupted. “If we’re going to join a takeover attempt, we need assurance that our leader won’t get themselves killed being foolish.”

R2 liked Sensible Soldier, the man joined R2’s-favorite-organics-to-exist list, just beside Vicious Child. He did not seem as chaotic as R2’s normal favorites, but he seemed to know what he was doing and would make for an excellent fellow General as they led their armies to victory.

Friend Obi-Wan sighed. “All right.”

Strange Organic let out another cackle from Friend Obi-Wan’s back.

Sensible Soldier eyed him, assessing. “Hostages shouldn’t be armed, sir. Especially when so close to you.”

After a moment, Friend Obi-Wan seemed to decide that Sensible Soldier was right—or that it wasn’t worth arguing about—because he sighed. “You heard him, Master Yoda. Hostages aren’t allowed weapons.”

Strange Organic let out a disgruntled snort. “Ruin all my fun, you will.”

“You can keep your walking stick,” Friend Obi-Wan pointed out, wry.

Strange Organic seemed to consider that. “An acceptable alternative that is.”

“Wonderful,” Friend Obi-Wan muttered as he put Strange Organic’s lightsaber on his own belt. He turned back to Sensible Soldier. “Since it seems we’ve come to an agreement to commit treason together. How long will it take to get all of the clones off of Kamino?”

Sensible Soldier exchanged a look with the rest of the clones, shifting a little. “We… have an emergency procedure that we put in place. Theoretical, of course.”

Friend Obi-Wan blinked, then laughed. “Well, you’re better prepared for all of this then I am. Time to make this theoretical plan a reality. Let’s get you and all the others off this planet. We’ll need to find a place to get established before we send out our manifesto.”

“We could choose Mandalore.”

R2 turned to see that Stubborn Hunter had just slipped through the door. Friend Obi-Wan gave him a narrowed eye look. “Aren’t you supposed to be distracting the Kaminoans?”

Stubborn Hunter looked offended “I assure you, they’re quite distracted.” Stubborn Hunter’s smile was delightfully terrible. “You could say they’re… a little locked up.” R2 almost wished he had been there to see what Stubborn Hunter had done. It was always good to learn more ways to cause problems for others that solved problems for R2 and R2’s-favorite-organics-to-exist.

“Do I want to know?” Friend Obi-Wan asked, before shaking his head. “Actually, no. I’m sure it’ll be blamed on me regardless, but as long as no one was killed, I don’t need to know.”

“No one’s dead,” Stubborn Hunter acceded. Stubborn Hunter had been a little annoyed when Friend Obi-Wan had made that a rule, but R2 had expected that Stubborn Hunter would follow instructions regardless. Stubborn Hunter seemed to be enjoying this all just as much as R2 was.

Friend Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes as though questioning the validity of the statement, before shrugging and accepting it.

“So,” Stubborn Hunter continued as though he hadn’t just had his abilities called into question. “Mandalore.”

Friend Obi-Wan let out a sigh, looking at R2 as though inviting him to join Friend Obi-Wan in being quietly exasperated with the world. R2 let out an apologetic whistle. R2 found all of this to be the most delightful thing that had ever happened to him. “Is that why you’re being useful?” Friend Obi-Wan asked.

Stubborn Hunter just raised an eyebrow. “You have to admit, Mandalore would be an excellent base for galactic domination.”

“We’re not dominating the Galaxy,” Friend Obi-Wan stressed for what R2 had counted as the 89^th time since the two of them had created this plan and started this whole venture. “We are faking an attempt at galactic domination, I would really appreciate if everyone kept that in mind.”

Stubborn Hunter rolled his eyes. “Fine. Mandalore would make an excellent base for faking an attempt at galactic domination.” R2 was reluctantly impressed with the way Stubborn Hunter managed to mimic Friend Obi-Wan’s emphasis perfectly. Stubborn Hunter couldn’t quite manage the accent, but the imitation was still rather remarkable.

“We’re going to take over Mandalore?” Vicious Child asked, voice far too gleeful.

“No,” Friend Obi-Wan shook his head. “I’ve already stolen two armies, kidnapped a child, and taken my grandmaster hostage; I am not taking over Mandalore.”

R2 let out an inquisitive whistle, because Friend Obi-Wan hadn’t presented a better plan yet. Friend Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes, looking insulted. “I’ll have you know, I have plenty of better plans.” 

R2 took a moment to congratulate Friend Obi-Wan’s improvement in binary, though he was still dubious about whether Friend Obi-Wan had a better plan.

Vicious Child giggled. Friend Obi-Wan looked more insulted. “If we could focus on getting all of the clones into ships and getting everyone off Kamino, so we can follow my plan, that does not involve taking over an entire system—we’re trying to avoid a war, if you remember—then I would very much appreciate that.”

Friend Obi-Wan turned towards Sensible Soldier. “If between the group of you, you can choose a Grand General to accompany R2 being the Grand General of the Droid Army, I would appreciate that.”

“Aren’t you the Grand General?” One of the clones asked.

Friend Obi-Wan shook his head.

Sensible Soldier snorted. “Of course he’s not, Bly. He needs to have a position on par with the leaders of the CIS and Republic. He’s our Supreme Commander.”

R2 whistled his appreciation.

Friend Obi-Wan’s face seemed to freeze in position. “Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

Strange Organic cackled. “Good feeling, do I have. A good Supreme Commander will you be.”

Chapter Text

If Obi-Wan had needed to give an estimate on how long it would take for the clone commanders to gather up the entirety of the clones—including the infants still growing in their tubes—he would have thought a few days at least.

The clones, he was realizing very quickly, took competence and preparedness to a whole new level.

From the delighted beeps and whistles R2 was giving them, R2 was quite pleased with the competence of their new army.

The Kaminoans had been kept out of the way—Obi-Wan still didn’t have details and didn’t want them, but R2 had assured him it was all respectable enough—and the clones had completely taken over the facilities. 

And before they’d even reached the end of the day, the clones had already filled the ships the Kaminoans had available to the brim with not just the clones, but all the extra supplies and weapons that the Kaminoans used to feed and train the clones. Then when Obi-Wan had had some of the battleships manned by the droids brought down, the clones began to fill those as well.

They were going to need some new ships. Obi-Wan realized. The Kaminoans had been cloners, not manufacturers, and while the Kaminoans purchased a few ships for the clones to practice with, they hadn’t built an entire armada. They had just enough to get both armies off planet—Obi-Wan would never have left anyone behind, but he wasn’t sure what he would have done if they hadn’t had enough space—but they’d be squished to the brim.

Which meant that Obi-Wan was probably going to have to steal some ships, since he didn’t actually have the sort of money a person needed to run an army, much less two armies. Kuat shipping, maybe. Or the Mon Cala ship yards.

Or, he thought a little annoyed, whoever had planned for this war probably had a secret contract somewhere that had warships being built. He just needed to find wherever those ships were and liberate them. 

If he was going to fake taking over the Republic and Separatists, then he’d have to go the full parsec, and that meant having enough ships that his two armies could, in theory, get anywhere they needed to to wage the war that wasn’t actually going to be waged.

He still found himself surprised by how well this was going—treason really wasn’t supposed to run this smoothly—but he couldn’t deny to himself that, minus a few bumps or two, it was all going far too well.

He watched as a few B2’s marched down the halls, five little cadets clinging to each of them, delighted grins on their faces. “Estimated time until Kamino is cleared is three hours,” one of the B2’s informed him, R2, and General Cody.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan told the droid. “You’re all doing well.”

R2 beeped his agreement; they’d had a discussion about how swearing at people was not the best way to motivate them to further competence, and so R2 was trying out his newly instated ‘encouragment’ protocols.

It all still included more swears than Obi-Wan thought was necessary, but at least it was less ‘you’re all *** incompetent,’ and more ‘you’re performing *** well, keep it the *** up’.

“Keep going,” one of the younglings—and he didn’t look like he could be older than three—whispered to the B2 where he was clinging to the chest piece. “The others are going to beat us to the ship!”

Obi-Wan thought his heart might have melted at the small interchange. “You heard the cadet,” Obi-Wan agreed. “You can’t let the others beat you.”

The cadets cheered as the B2 took that as a permission to march faster, gaining on the B2s and clone cadets that had already passed by.

There was a strange look on General Cody’s face, a mix of happiness and confused shock, as though he wasn’t sure if what he was seeing was real.

R2 let out an amused sounding beep.

“This is going well.”

Obi-Wan turned, a little surprised to see that Fett hadn’t been hi-jacked into helping elsewhere. The newly promoted Grand General Cody had insisted that both Boba and Master Yoda be ‘helpful’ and and kept far away from Obi-Wan, despite Obi-Wan’s assurances that neither were going to try and kill him—Yoda’s cackling and Boba’s protests that he needed practice had quite ruined Obi-Wan’s attempt to reassure his new Grand General that Obi-Wan had everything well in hand.

General Cody stepped a little closer to Obi-Wan, and while he didn’t go so far as to put a hand to his blaster, his eyes were narrowed as he looked at Fett.

Obi-Wan did his best to ignore the way the General pressed something on his comm that would undoubtedly result in at least two of the Commanders showing up to ‘escort’ Fett into being useful.

“It’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Obi-Wan asked.

Fett’s lip twisted into a smile that was almost a snarl. “I wanted to fix my mistakes.” He paused, looking at General Cody with something that might have been regret. “They deserved better than what I’d done to them.”

General Cody didn’t respond to the words, though he’d gone sharp and stiff. Obi-Wan reached out, resting a gentle hand on the General’s shoulder before realizing that was likely overstepping his boundaries.

Obi-Wan removed his hand, sending the General an apologetic look before turning back to Fett, considering. Everything had gone so fast, he hadn’t really had time to consider how Fett had gotten involved. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell me who hired you for this job. For real, this time.”

Fett gave him an amused look. “Thought you’d figured it out, already, what with you deciding this whole war was a farce. It was Dooku.”

Obi-Wan furrowed his brows, because he hadn’t realized that, but it only affirmed that this whole thing would have turned into a sham war. 

“Well, that doesn’t help me find the other Sith any easier,” he muttered to himself. But it only affirmed to him that Dooku was the pawn. The mastermind wouldn’t have had left such an easy way to tie him to the army.

R2 let out a thoughtful whir, and Obi-Wan gave the droid a questioning look. R2 gave a tentative beep, that Obi-Wan took as an indicator that R2 would share his thoughts when he was ready. If R2 had an idea of how to find the other Sith, Obi-Wan was more than willing to listen.

Fett shrugged, clearly not caring that he was being less than helpful. “So, are we headed to Mandalore?”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the exasperated sigh, he thought he’d made himself clear, earlier. “No. I’m not helping you take over Mandalore. If that’s something you want, you can do it yourself.”

People claimed he had no self-preservation. They were wrong, he had plenty of self-preservation.

And he was exerting that self-preservation now: getting involved in a situation with both Fett and Satine was not conducive to a non-stressful existence. He was NOT getting involved in Mandalore. 

He refused to spend his last days having to play mediator between Fett and Satine.

“Based off our Galactic History lessons, I agree with the Supreme Commander,” General Cody agreed, and while Obi-Wan appreciated the support, he was really going to have to nip that whole ‘title’ business in the bud. He was not going to go around being called ‘Supreme Commander’. “We can make taking over Mandalore our secondary objective, but they’re too unstable right now to risk splitting our galactic attention getting them in line.”

Obi-Wan made a face at the whole ‘secondary objective’ bit, but he figured he could let it stand. He’d have likely already been executed for treason at that point, Fett was more than welcome to try to convince the clones and droids to help him with Mandalore then, Obi-Wan wouldn’t be around to be pulled into the chaos.

Fett gave a dismissive snort, but he didn’t disagree, which was a good as an acknowledgment that Cody and Obi-Wan were right. “Fine, where are we headed?”

Obi-Wan bit back the desire to point out that Fett really didn’t need to stay. 

Technically Fett had been working with Dooku and had threatened to kill Obi-Wan, it’d be foolish to just let him stick around.

R2 beeped out an inquisitive request for the same information, while General Cody just gave Obi-Wan a patient, but expectant look.

Obi-Wan shifted a little uncomfortably, because while he’d had ample time to think through his plan while stealing the droid army, it was still very different to have to actually voice the plan. “I’m hoping to take us to Melida/Daan.”

Fett gave him a blank look, and R2 whistled something that Obi-Wan took as confusion. “Where the kriff is Melida/Daan?” Fett finally asked. “And why in the galaxy would we go there?”

R2 swiveled back and forth for a moment, before letting out an almost reluctant sounding agreement with Fett.

Obi-Wan bit his lip, before sighing. “Look, if I’m going to use the threat of force to make the Republic and Separatists see reason—which is quite frankly a terrible thing to do, coercion should never be a first resort, but it is somewhat better than letting everyone rip each other and this galaxy apart—I might as well do things right, and go all the way.”

Neither Fett, Cody, or R2 looked like they comprehended what he was suggesting. Fett was finally the one to ask what the others seemed to be thinking. “You mean you want to actually take over the—“

“No, I’m not actually taking over,” Obi-Wan cut Fett off, exasperated. How many times did he need to make that clear? “Melida/Daan is familiar with me and will likely let me set up base there, they also have wide swaths of untended land that can be used for farming, and would frankly appreciate the extra hands, even if they wouldn’t have space for all of us longterm… and it’s conveniently close to Geonosis and Tatooine.” He paused, before admitting the plan that’d been shifting throughout his mind and had helped him decide that Melida/Daan was the right answer. “I’m going to see if we can bluff the Hutts into ending the Slave Trade, and if we can get Tatooine that will give whoever is left afterwards a launching point into Hutt Space and end the Slave Trade there.”

It was silent for a moment before R2 let out a flurry of whistles and beeps, demanding to know why Obi-Wan hadn’t immediately told R2 about this addition to their plan, demanding that he needed to upload a data pack on the current slave trade routes in the galaxy, and letting out worried whistles about how this was going to affect their manifesto—which obviously, Obi-Wan had taken that into account—and wanting to know when were they going to Melida/Daan so they could finally get started with their fake take over of the galaxy, because R2 was more than ready to whip the galaxy into shape.

General Cody had shifted to attention, eyes furrowed as he methodically worked through the implications. “That will require a show of force rather than just a threat of one.”

Obi-Wan nodded, hurrying to reassure the General that he wasn’t signing him or his men for something they hadn’t volunteered for. “I’ve considered that. I assure you, neither you nor the rest of the army will be forced to participate. I’ve had missions that have required me to appear more numerous than I am.” While he’d never had to pretend to be an army, he didn’t have to, he could create enough chaos and destruction to be attributed to a small strike squad, which was perfectly reasonable.

General Cody gave him an odd, slightly exasperated look. “So you’ll have two armies at your fingertips… and yet plan to do all the fighting completely by yourself.”

Fett interrupted before Obi-Wan could reassure General Cody again that he hadn’t recruited them just to use and endanger them, and that R2, technically, had already volunteered to help him with his plan—even if Obi-Wan hadn’t discussed this specific sub-element of the plan—so he wasn’t truly alone. “You don’t believe in half-measures, do you?” Fett was leaning back against the wall, giving Obi-Wan an amused, but also slightly exasperated look. It was somewhat interesting how he and the General could have the same face, and yet they could wear their exasperation so differently.

“Consider it, though,” Obi-Wan said, giving all three of them his most imploring look. Because Obi-Wan had been considering it. Of course, he didn’t think it would truly be that simple to actually end slavery, that would not be a bloodless nor resourceless fight, and Obi-Wan was still stealing every resource that they had. But they could start what would hopefully become the end of slavery in their galaxy. “It’s not a terrible idea.”

If they could get the Hutts on Tatooine to even start negotiations to end slavery, even if they didn’t finish those negotiations before the farce ended, he could make the continuation of those negotiations a part of his ‘stand down’ stipulations.

Even when he stepped down and faced the consequences of his actions, there were two armies, and while some of them seemed excited to be farmers and bounty hunters and any number of other occupations, the most likely outcome was that many of them would ask to join different planet’s armed forces—they’d been trained to fight, clones and droids both, and there was a familiarity in sticking to that—such a swell in military power would give the Republic and the Separatists the ability for them to truly crack down on the slavery problem.

So while Obi-Wan didn’t have all the details figured out, he couldn’t help but think that this might have a happy ending.

For everyone else, at least.

“I’m considering it,” Fett agreed, still staring at Obi-Wan with a look on his face that Obi-Wan couldn’t read. Abruptly, Fett turned and started walking away. “I’ve got a few comms to make.”

General Cody brought his own comm up, sending a message for someone to keep an eye on Fett and make sure his messages wouldn’t compromise the operation.

Obi-Wan figured that Cody’s caution wasn’t a terrible idea, even if the Force wasn’t currently warning him of danger coming from Fett.

The Force seemed to swirl around Fett with genuine interest, and a sort of glee that reminded Obi-Wan a little bit of what Yoda had felt like in the Force before he’d declared himself a ‘hostage’.

But whatever Fett might or might not be up to, it was not going to be declaring himself hostage, of that Obi-Wan was fairly certain.

Obi-Wan just hoped that someone else would have to deal with the repercussions of whatever Fett was up to.

As it was he turned back to General Cody, who had the most expertise on what Kamino needed. “What more do we need to do before we can leave Kamino?”

Under Cody’s direction, Obi-Wan and R2 joined the battle droids in escorting the youngest of the clones—and if each and every one of them seemed intent on stealing Obi-Wan’s heart, then Obi-Wan was helpless but to let it happen each time—to the ships, splitting the groups up so that each ship had a healthy mix of supplies, droids, battle-ready clones, and younglings.

Finally, when they were finishing up, Obi-Wan took himself to Kamino’s comm center, bringing R2 with him to help him send out his message.

He was re-routed a few times before he actually managed to get in contact with Nield.

“Obi-Wan?” Nield seemed confused, but that was fair, Obi-Wan hadn’t reached out to him in years.

Obi-Wan gave Nield his best smile. “How do you feel about being the third—and only reasonable—faction in a war that hasn’t actually started yet and hopefully never will?”

Nield seemed surprised—and still confused—but he didn’t ask any of the many sensible questions he could have asked. Instead he narrowed his eyes. “This is payback, isn’t it.” Nield shook his head, but not in denial, more exasperation. “This better be good.”

Obi-Wan gave him a crooked grin at that. “Well, I don’t know if I’d say good.”

R2 let out a whistle giving his own opinion.

Obi-Wan ignored him, because R2 was having the time of the little droid’s life, and his opinion didn’t count.

“But,” he continued, “it is necessary.”

Chapter Text

R2 was grateful to be back in the lovely Firespray, hooking himself up to her communication servers so he could keep her up to date on the evolving discussion. R2 was helping Friend Obi-Wan, Sensible Soldier, Strange Organic, and Stubborn Hunter discuss the best way to present their Manifesto.

“I’m not calling us an Empire,” Friend Obi-Wan argued for what was the 12^th time during this conversation.

“We need to present ourselves as a proper threat if people are going to take us seriously,” Sensible Soldier pointed out.

Friend Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “Calling ourselves an Empire is somewhat ridiculous though. We may have two armies, but we’ll have a total of one planet, and we’re bluffing about how many resources we have available to us.”

R2 supposed that was fair, even if he’d been fond of Stubborn Hunter’s idea to call themselves an Empire.

Vicious Child meandered into the hold of the Firespray that had been turned into the planning room. He plopped next to R2 with a datapad.

R2 shifted a visual receptor to see what Vicious Child was doing, curious when he found that Vicious Child was creating a poll.

He beeped an inquisitive question.

Vicious Child grinned up at him. “I’m taking suggestions from all the others for what to call our faction.” He pointed to one of the suggestions. “This one’s mine.” R2 whistled his amusement as he read Vicious Child’s suggestion: ‘the United Armies for Galactic Domination’ indeed.

He whistled his own idea, and Vicious Child added ‘Kenobi’s Sentient Alliance Army’ to the list, though R2 doubted that Friend Obi-Wan would appreciate their army being called after him. He’d suggest ‘R2’s Sentient Alliance Army’, but the galaxy wasn’t quite ready for an army named after a droid, and everyone would know that he and Friend Obi-Wan were a package deal soon enough.

R2 read through a few more of the suggestions, watching as the system Vicious Child had set up showed when a name got an extra vote.

He tuned back in as Friend Obi-Wan let out a sigh. 

“You can’t just tell the Galaxy that you’re willing to stand down if they agree to negotiate with each other,” Stubborn Hunter argued. R2 wondered what he’d missed because Friend Obi-Wan and Stubborn Hunter were glaring at each other.

“That’s the point of this whole charade!” Friend Obi-Wan threw his hands up. “They agree to resort to diplomacy to sort out their differences instead of turning to a war, I surrender—with the stipulation that the droids and clones can’t be forced into an army for either side, that’ll—“

“Obvious, that is. Take you seriously they may not,” Strange Organic added. “Trick them, we must until collaborate together they do.”

“We’d need—“ Friend Obi-Wan started.

“Consequences,” Sensible Soldier agreed. “You already destroyed the Geonosis factories, we can claim that was your first strike, that taking Melida/Daan was your second.”

“That wasn’t what I was suggest—“

A sharp giggle from Vicious Child had R2 turning his attention back to the naming list. ‘Hegemon of Conscientious Objectors’. He liked that.

Though not quite as much as he liked the ‘Sentient Alliance for Peace and Stability’, as an acronym HCO didn’t work quite as well as SAPS did, and R2 knew from experience that most organics preferred being able to shorten titles, that was why he preferred R2 over his full designation of R2-D2. Some things were just better short.

“Supreme Commander,” Sensible Soldier started, tone serious enough that R2’s processors alerted him to pay attention to the planning meeting again.

“Obi-Wan, please,” Friend Obi-Wan pleaded. “I dislike titles on a normal day.”

Sensible Soldier made a face that a quick calculation told R2 meant that there was less than a 2 percent chance of Sensible Soldier calling Friend Obi-Wan by his name. “Sir—“ Friend Obi-Wan sighed, but apparently decided that ‘sir’ was an acceptable alternative. R2 considered his own designation for Friend Obi-Wan, running a few alternatives: Sir Obi-Wan, Supreme Obi-Wan, Emperor Obi-Wan. That last one, R2 admitted, was quite nice. Friend Obi-Wan wouldn’t like it though, so R2 would stick to Friend Obi-Wan, for now at least. “This won’t be a short term thing. Especially if you still believe this to be a plot to create war. Whoever is behind this won’t just let diplomacy happen.”

“Prepared we must be,” Strange Organic agreed. “To expand.”

“I’m not waging war against the Galaxy,” Friend Obi-Wan snapped. He gave Strange Organic a dark look. “Stop playing Sith’s advocate, Master Yoda.”

Strange Organic let out a strange little chortle at that.

Stubborn Hunter snorted. “Not even if that expansion is against the slavers?”

“We don’t have the resources,” Friend Obi-Wan stressed, the syllables all pointed in a way that didn’t match Friend Obi-Wan’s normal speech patterns. “We’d need to actually convince more planets to join with us. We’d need to enact taxes. We’d need allies. We’d need—“

“How do we set that up?” Sensible Soldier asked as he pulled out a datapad, clearly posed to start taking notes.

“We can’t just set that up. We’d need to start with—“

R2 let out a worried whistle, shifting back and forth to brush against Vicious Child. Vicious Child looked up but thankfully seemed to see what R2 meant, because he went and filled a glass of water, bringing it to Friend Obi-Wan.

Friend Obi-Wan took the water—sniffing at it distractedly as though checking for poison as he continued to exasperatedly outline exactly how they’d need to set up the resources that they purportedly weren’t actually gathering. Sensible Soldier, it seemed, was taking copious notes. R2 thanked Vicious Child. Friend Obi-Wan had been getting strangely red in the face, even for an organic, and his diagnostics suggested that was not a good idea.

When in doubt, R2 had learned, if an organic was experiencing malfunctions they probably needed watering.

Vicious Child returned to his datapad and nudged at R2’s chrome, R2 turned back to see what he’d found now.

R2 let out a satisfied whistle. The Binary Alliance. It had apparently been suggested by a few B2’s. He liked that one. It had gotten upvotes from both droids and clones.

But it didn’t seem like a good fit for their alliance. Perhaps they could be the Binary Army for whatever name they came up with.

‘Neutral Alliance for Peace’, suggested another droid. Vicious Child had a mischievous smile on his face as he pinned his own comment to the vote with the suggestion that they be called ‘the Nappers’ since so far R2 and Obi-Wan had kidnapped everyone involved.

Almost immediately, NAP jumped by nearly a dozen votes. Apparently, the rest of their army thought that was as funny as Vicious Child did.

There was a whole assortment of votes below that used Friend Obi-Wan’s name. ‘The New Kenobi Empire’ did sound quite fantastic, but R2 thought that Friend Obi-Wan might have an aneurysm if that was the top vote; R2 quite liked Friend Obi-Wan, an aneurysm would not be good for Friend Obi-Wan’s health. Organics were quite delicate, they couldn’t just turn themselves off and on again to get rid of that sort of damage.

“Do you have a better idea?” Stubborn Hunter challenged, and R2 regretted that he’d missed whichever idea Friend Obi-Wan had just shut down.

“I have at least a dozen ideas that are better than that,” Friend Obi-Wan retorted.

“Shared them you have not,” Strange Organic pointed out.

Friend Obi-Wan rested an elbow on the table, burying his face in his hand. “Because the whole lot of you keep interrupting me with plans to take over the galaxy. So if you would give me the opportunity to talk maybe I could get somewhere.”

R2 let out an encouraging whistle. Though he didn’t think it necessary to specify who he was encouraging, the galaxy-take-over team or Friend Obi-Wan. Both could use encouragement, clearly.

“We’ll ‘open’ our alliance to allow planets to join,” Friend Obi-Wan started. “It makes us look like a serious faction. We will not be threatening to take over anyone who rejects us.” He paused at that, giving everyone else at the table a rather severe look. R2 was impressed, he made a very good Supreme Commander. “We’ll claim the army is for our own protection and for the removal of slavery. But if you remember, the Separatist movement was in the works for almost a decade before it really picked up momentum, we won’t have to worry about any planets actually joining.”

Friend Obi-Wan was an incredibly intelligent organic, or so R2’s analysis of the organics he’d met told him, but R2 thought that perhaps he needed more sleep. He had been told it was an important element to organics having clear thoughts.

Of course planets would want to join their burgeoning Empire—it wasn't like they knew it was supposed to be fake. It was going to be glorious.

He turned back to Vicious Child’s datapad, scanning the new selections. ‘The United Factions for Freedom’. R2 quite liked that. Though UFF was perhaps not the impression they wanted to lead.

The one beneath it caught his processor’s attention. ‘Sentient Alliance for Faking an Empire’ someone had put as a suggestion, asserting that it could be the SAFE Alliance. That was somewhat redundant, R2 thought. But also, it had quite the ring to it.

They were onto something, R2 thought. His processors mulled over the suggestion.

Obviously they couldn’t name themselves the Sentient Alliance for Faking an Empire. That would tell everyone their plans. But he liked ‘ the SAFE Alliance’, it sent the right message, one that Friend Obi-Wan couldn’t disapprove of. Together they would make the galaxy safe.

R2 ran the name through his processors a few times, sharing the suggestion with Firespray, the two of them passing the information through their mutual processor a few times before the perfect answer came to him. The Sentient Alliance for Freedom and Equality.

It was perfect, even if R2 did say so himself.

He beeped at Vicious Child until he put in his new suggestion. They might all know what the real name was, but the galaxy would be quite impressed with the more appropriate version of their name.

There was the steady beep of a comm, and R2 turned his attention back to the planning table as Stubborn Hunter pulled out his holo comm, placing it on the table.

“I need to take this,” Stubborn Hunter said, and if R2’s analysis of his tone was correct, it was quite smug.

Friend Obi-Wan, R2 noticed, looked vaguely wary.

The blue image of a man in armor appeared. “Fett.”

“Gilmar.”

Next to him, Vicious Child started giggling. “Oooh, it worked.”

That sounded promising. And also like Friend Obi-Wan might need another glass of water.

“The Kaminoans have… seen sense.”

Friend Obi-Wan let out a quiet curse, one that definitely needed to be added to his favorite-words-to-use-when-dealing-with-fools file. “What did you do, Fett?”

Stubborn Hunter waved his hand at him, clearly telling him to hush.

Rude, Friend Obi-Wan was Supreme Commander, he deserved more respect.

“They’ll keep quiet and keep out of it.” The blue image was a little hazy for his processors, but R2 thought the look on this organic’s face might have been classified as vicious. “Skirata reached out to his clan, and I got in touch with some of my contacts. The Traditionalists are hesitant about joining you and this…” he paused, clearly unsure. “This movement.”

R2 looked at the tallies on Vicious Child’s datapad, pleased to see that his suggestion had taken top position. He let out a loud whistle, catching the attention of Sensible Soldier and Friend Obi-Wan. He beeped the name at them.

“The Sentient Alliance for Freedom and Equality?” Sensible Soldier repeated. “The SAFE Alliance?”

The organic in the holo nodded, accepting it easily, missing the question in Sensible Soldier’s voice. “They’re hesitant about joining the SAFE Alliance. But, if you’re willing to step up again as Mand’alor, they’ll answer your call.”

Stubborn Hunter’s face twisted into a satisfied looking smile.

Friend Obi-Wan groaned. “Don’t you dare.”

“Mandalore has long needed a purpose,” Stubborn Hunter declared. “Freedom, Equality, and—“ here he sent a strange smile at Friend Obi-Wan, and was that supposed to be… oh no. He let out a despairing whistle. He thought he’d escaped the stupid human faces when he’d left Little Ani and Mistress Padme. If Stubborn Hunter started sending those to Friend Obi-Wan R2 might need to pull out his electro-prod. “—the possibility of taking over the galaxy, sounds like just the sort of purpose Mandalore can get behind.”

The man in the holo laughed. “It’s been a while since Mandalore was an Empire.”

“It’s a ploy,” Friend Obi-Wan repeated. “We’re not taking over the galaxy.”

Strange Organic cackled. Sensible Soldier gave Friend Obi-Wan something that looked like an amused smile.

“Even a fake empire is more adventure than most Mando’ade have had in a while,” the holo man said easily, not bothered. “We don’t actually need to take over the galaxy, not so long as it gives the traditionalists something to rally behind.”

Stubborn Hunter sent another one of those stupid human faces at Friend Obi-Wan. “Turns out you don’t actually need to go to Mandalore to help me take it over.”

“I don’t even need to turn myself into the Republic after this is all over,” Friend Obi-Wan muttered. “Duchess Kryze is going to give up her vow of pacifism just to kill me.”

“Don’t worry, sir. I’ll add her to the watch list,” Sensible Soldier assured him. “There’ll be no assassinations on my watch.”

Friend Obi-Wan’s smile was somewhat wry. “That makes me feel much better about my chances, thank you General Cody.”

Sensible Soldier straightened even more than R2 had thought it was possible for human organics to make their back go.

Stubborn Hunter gave a vicious sort of smile to the holo. “Thanks, Gilamar. Send out any necessary messages, I’ll give the call the same time Kenobi sends out his Manifesto for the SAFE Alliance.”

The holo nodded. “Welcome back, ‘alor. You’ve been missed.”

R2 whistled in confusion at that. “He wasn’t Mand’alor,” Vicious Child whispered, and his eyes were bright with childlike glee. “He said he couldn’t be anymore. So there wasn’t a Mand’alor, just a Duchess. But now he’s going to be Mand’alor again!”

That seemed a little too easy to R2, but he didn’t know much about Mandalorians, so maybe that made sense to them.

But then, Friend Obi-Wan did seem to bring out the best solution to a situation. Apparently, he also brought out the best in Stubborn Hunter.

Though it posed a problem. If Stubborn Hunter was now Mand’alor, did R2 need to give him a new designation?

No, R2 decided. Not yet, Stubborn Hunter still needed to earn a new designation.

“Well, that should add at least a few resources to our plan,” Stubborn Hunter said as he tucked his comm away. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t say thank you,” Friend Obi-Wan huffed.

The room went silent, everyone giving Friend Obi-Wan an expectant look. Strange Organic poked him with his stick. “Forget your manners you should not.”

Friend Obi-Wan sighed. “Thank you, Fett.”

This, R2 thought, was an excellent start to their SAFE Alliance.

Chapter Text

Republic Holonews Anchor for Coruscant Daily (Who really hates his job, and hopes SAFE is looking to hire for their own News Station)

Breaking News

“And we’re back, with Spark and Fuse after the galaxy-shattering Manifesto that dropped this morning.”

Milo Fuse felt like someone had pasted a smile on his face with extra strong adhesives.

“Of course the Senate is in an uproar. The CIS was one thing, but the SAFE Alliance is something else entirely,” his fellow anchor, Sheera Spark, said; their smile a little manic as they kept their face turned toward the cameras and Milo wondered if they’d gotten the smile adhesive treatment too. “What do you think we can expect to happen next, Milo?”

Milo Fuse’s smile strained, but it held, an observant viewer might make the assumption that he was being ordered to stick to the party line, and that it wasn’t one he agreed with. The observant viewer would be right. Sometimes he hated the network, but they were controlled by the Senate and Milo needed this job.

He wasn’t going back to being an anchor for Coruscant’s Hot News, which was full of even more drivel than Coruscant Daily.

“Not. A. Thing.” He shook his head. “Look, you’ll see things like this happen sometimes. Someone will get it into their head that they can change the galaxy, they’ll drop some ‘manifesto’ that’ll gain traction for a few weeks before people forget about it. The SAFE Alliance is no different.”

“Most Manifesto’s don’t have a Binary Army behind them,” Sheera argued.

“With one planet.” Milo shook his head. “No, you believe me Sheera, the SAFE Alliance is nothing more than a distraction. Our attention needs to be on the real threat out there, and that’s the CIS.”

A toothless enemy if Milo had ever seen one. He wouldn’t be surprised if half of the CIS jumped ship to join SAFE.

Half the Republic might too. There was a part of him that hoped that his home planet, Gala, decided to make the jump.

“You have it, folks,” Sheera stated, and her own smile seemed to have somehow gotten more fake looking. “We’ll be back soon to discuss the Senate’s vote on a possible draft.”

“Which we obviously won’t need,” Milo Fuse added, and only his professionalism kept him from rolling his eyes. “Because SAFE is clearly not a threat.”

Let the Network choke on that. It was agreement with the party line, but at least a few people would note the sarcasm in his voice.

He hoped.

Kriff, he really needed a better job. Maybe SAFE needed someone to build out their News section? He had a friend in PR who would love to work for something real instead of trying to make her Senator look good.

Working for SAFE sounded so much better than what they were doing now.

Confederation of Independent Systems Holonews Anchor for Serenno News (Who did not ask for this and is not at all prepared)

Loran had not asked for this. They rifled through all of the information that was coming through. The Manifesto was only part of it. The uproar it had caused was coming flying into their inbox steadily.

They could barely read it all.

Melida/Daan was declaring for SAFE, a dozen planets that were considered CIS were already indicating they were planning on jumping ship.

They wouldn’t be surprised if the same was happening in the Republic.

Kriff. Kriff. Kriff.

They had been hired to be a news anchor for Serenno, not for the whole CIS.

What the Count had been thinking when he’d decided to leave the Republic, Loran didn’t know. But the man could have at least considered that there needed to be a change in how some of their operations were run.

But no, Count Dooku had made himself the leader of the CIS and had forced all of Serenno to adapt.

Kark him.

“Ready?” Rathle was behind the camera looking vaguely sympathetic.

“No,” they snapped back, but shifted so that they were smiling at the camera with their official ‘camera’ smile.

Rathle counted down, before pointing at her in an indication to start.

“We’re here on Serenno with Breaking News,” Loran started. “The SAFE Alliance has made it’s debut entrance into the galactic sphere.”

They paused, considering their situation and the situation of the galaxy. Their datapad was still vibrating with more and more information as the situation was updated.

“We’re karked,” they shifted off transcript. “For kriff’s sake, let’s all just pack up and join them. At least they have a plan for the galaxy that’s not ‘kill anyone who disagrees’ which seems to be all the Republic and the CIS can think to do.”

Rathle was making desperate gestures, clearly trying to cut them off.

“My cousin was sold into slavery,” Loran continued. “If SAFE will help me save her, then sign me up to help.”

It was the only reason they had kept this job, it was supposed to give them enough money to buy her cousin back.

They stood from their seat. “That’s it, folks. Coming to you from Serenno, this is Loran, signing off.”

Rathle cut off the recording staring at them like Rathle thought they’d lost their mind.

It was possible.

“Kriff. We need to all get off Serenno now,” Rathle choked out.

They smiled, feeling only a little bad. “I hear Melida/Daan is wonderful this time of year.”

Rathle sent them a rather rude gesture. “Never liked it here on Serenno, anyways.”

Sabe (Who really wishes Padme was answering her comm and really can’t be blamed for any of her actions) 

When Sabe had checked Padme’s secret message dropbox—hoping that Padme had sent something to tell Sabe where Padme and her protection detail had gone—she had not expected to find a message from Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi of all people, declaring that he was leaving the Jedi and the Republic.

It had been sent to Padme with a request for her to return to the Senate to try and delay the war. But when it hadn’t been able to reach her the message had been re-routed to the dropbox.

The absolute need to find Padme had only gone up then. Because while Dorme was handling her position as Padme’s double in the Senate well, and was undoubtedly talented and capable, she simply couldn’t take Padme’s place for this.

But Padme was missing, had left Naboo without so much as a message—and Sabe was going to make Padme take another course on proper protection protocols—and that meant that Sabe and Dorme had no real way to convince the Senate to calm down and avoid war.

She also felt the need to corner Obi-Wan Kenobi and make him sit for a lecture on appropriate times for downplaying a situation.

Obi-Wan Kenobi’s message to Padme had said that he was going to ‘buy the Republic time’. Creating a whole new faction in the war—one that technically hadn’t started yet—stealing both the CIS and Republic armies to do so, and declaring war against slavery all at one time was not ‘buying the Republic time’. 

Well, she supposed technically it was still true, the Republic would need to form a draft at this point before they could go to war, and the Senate would undoubtedly fight about doing that for far too long, thus keeping them out of war. But, the message had done absolutely nothing to prepare her for what was happening now.

As it was, Padme was still missing and the Queen was asking Sabe what Sabe thought they should do in this situation.

Sabe glared down at all the information she had. The different holonews reports, Kenobi’s message, and the Manifesto that SAFE had sent out declaring their intentions to the galaxy.

Padme had made Sabe clean up the mess from her disappearing, it was only fair that Padme would need to clean up Sabe’s mess from playing at Queen Jamillia’s advisor.

My advice would be to reach out to Obi-Wan Kenobi and determine what the steps to joining SAFE are, she wrote. Queen Jamillia would not have asked, after all, if the Queen had already determined to stay loyal to the Republic.

Obi-Wan Kenobi had two armies, but he did not want war.

The Republic and the CIS didn’t have any armies, but she knew, deep in her bones, that they did want war.

The choice seemed obvious to her.

Emrys, Princess of Morena (Who has mother thinks that SAFE sounds perfect and who has a father who is very much dead)

“Have you considered, Mother, the ramifications of doing this?”

Emrys stared down at the royal decree that her mother, Queen Mira of Morena, had put together. 

“Of course I have.” Her mother didn’t even look at her, reading the decree over with a sharp eye. “The Republic’s never done anything to help us before now, and I never liked the sound of the Confederation. They gave far too much power to corporations over the people.”

Emrys felt her own lips twist into an ugly grimace. It was the sort of corruption that had gotten her Father killed, at least according to her mother. He’d jumped into an acid pool, she had been told, refusing to be brought to justice.

Her mother had raised her to understand just where her absent father had gone wrong.

She stared back at the royal decree, declaring their intention to join SAFE. She closed her eyes, feeling for that something inside of her (her Mother called it the Force, something she shared with her father) following it’s winding path, a river inside of her. It seemed to bubble happily, like a stream over rocks, pleasant and soft.

She reached beyond the Force towards her own conscience and morals—she would not be ruled by a cosmic Force, no matter how useful it might occasionally be—and reasoned through the choices, trying to determine if this was an action she could genuinely and truly support her mother in.

“It will be taken more seriously if one of us makes our way to Melida-Daan to present our case to join them.”

Her mother finally looked away from the decree, eyes sharp and considering. “And you’d like to be the one to do so?”

Emrys smiled. “I’ve considered the ramifications, Mother. It seems a good choice.”

Anakin (Who has been waiting for the opportunity to fight slavers since forever and this is finally his time)

There were a million thoughts running through Anakin's head, from angry, to incredulous, to shocked.

One thought, however, stood out, strong and bold against the background of his inner turmoil.

"I can't believe he's taking over the galaxy without me!"

Padme, who'd been staring at the holo news with mild horror, blinked and turned towards him. "Anakin!"

He hunched his shoulders a little. He didn't want Padme to use that sort of tone with him, it made him feel smaller than he was. He pushed past it, Padme was surprised, just like him, he wouldn't read too much into it. "I'm his padawan. It's not fair!"

Padme's voice was aghast. "He's got two armies, and—"

"Two armies that he's going to end slavery with!" That was the important bit. 

His master truly was the best of all the Jedi.

"Anakin—"

"I just wish he'd let me hel—" he cut himself off. Because he could help. Here he was, on Tatooine, and Obi-Wan had just declared that he was going to wage war on Slavery.

Anakin knew he couldn't hold Tatooine if he launched a rebellion. The Hutt had their enforcers and they could send for backup from Hutt space. But if he launched a rebellion and then Obi-Wan showed up to help maintain that freedom...

He felt a sort of giddy delight. His Mom was going to be so proud of him. Sure, she'd said she was proud of him when he'd found her in that Tusken camp, and she'd said it again when he'd gotten her back to the Lars' moisture farm, hurt but safe. But this, this would be even better.

He wondered what Obi-Wan and his Mom would think of each other. Obviously, since they both loved him, they'd have to get along with each other.

Though... now that he thought about it, that wasn't entirely true with the Chancellor and Obi-Wan. But then, the Chancellor was a politician and Obi-Wan could be kind of temperamental about those.

He bit his lip, wondering what the Chancellor must think about what was happening. This probably looked terrible from his perspective, but he'd always told Anakin how much he wished he could end slavery. How awful it was that the Jedi would never do more.

But now Obi-Wan was.

Maybe Anakin could convince the Chancellor to support the Alliance, in secret of course, since he was Chancellor. Then, even if he didn't like politicians, Obi-Wan would have to start liking the Chancellor. He was going to need some help, and who better than the Chancellor of the Republic!

He rubbed his hands, picturing it now. Him, his Mom, Obi-Wan, Padme, and the Chancellor, all working together to end slavery and keep the galaxy safe.

Shmi (Who has also been looking for the opportunity to fight slavers since forever, but is slightly more contained than her son

Shmi had no idea who Obi-Wan Kenobi was. 

When she had let Anakin go, it had been with Master Qui-Gon Jinn. Though from what scattered elements Anakin had told her since her rescue from the Tusken camp, Qui-Gon had died almost immediately, leaving him in the care of this mysterious Obi-Wan.

When Anakin had first saved her, he'd mentioned Obi-Wan a few times, his opinion jumping back and forth from devotion to resentment. She'd been helping to raise Owen, however, and she was used to the temperamental nature of a teenager's opinion.

From what she'd been able to put together from Anakin's wide range of stories, she'd thought that Obi-Wan seemed a decent sort. And despite his teenage temperament Anakin clearly adored him.

But the stories had had not made him seem like the sort to stage a galaxy-wide rebellion.

But from where she was standing—well, sitting, her body was still healing and spending time on her feet only caused her pain—it appeared he was doing just that.

She'd read through his manifesto. She wasn't a scholar or a politician, there were portions of the manifesto that were difficult to work through.

But she had always prided herself on being able to see to the heart of the matter.

The Sentient Alliance for Freedom and Equality. They weren't just words dashed across the manifesto, hollow and empty as so many promises of Freedom and Equality were.

She tapped her finger against the image of the droid at Obi-Wan Kenobi’s side. The Manifesto had declared that droids were as sentient as the rest of them were, and thus deserved rights. And there at Obi-Wan Kenobi's side stood a droid.

It was a good sign.

She couldn't help but wonder if he would let a Freed Slave stand at his side as well.

Not her, of course, she was quite content with her lot in life, and it her lot was certainly not to help lead Galactic Alliances...

But, well, Obi-Wan Kenobi might need a second opinion, someone who could understand what he could not, no matter how much compassion.

And until he could find someone better suited for the job Shmi would be more than willing to step in to help.

Palpatine (Who is supposed to be taking over the galaxy and would really, really appreciate if someone could finally kill that Kenobi who is always ruining everything)

The dying gurgles of his acolyte echoed through the room.

How dare he. How dare that worthless, pathetic, impossible-to-kill Jedi steal both his armies.

Sidious was seething. How dare.

The rage that was coursing through him was not productive, so he called another acolyte into the room.

He could feel their terror as they took in the appearance of their mostly dead companion.

Sidious didn't give them time to think more about it, raising his hands, watching impassively as his rage turned to lightning and his acolyte screamed.

He went through two more acolytes before he managed to soothe his rage enough that he could think clearly.

This was a setback, there was no two ways about it. That loathsome, despicable, meddling fool had derailed the Sith Plan that had been in the works for centuries.

But Sidious was adaptable. Kenobi might have both his armies now, but he'd installed a failsafe in both armies; the droids' coding and the clones' chips would make it possible for Sidious to take control at just the optimal moment.

The Separatist movement was now essentially defunct, at best he would be able to use them and the fear they'd created for another month or two, before he had them fade away. No one would fear them now that they didn't have an army, which meant that Dooku was essentially worthless to him. Worse, he was a liability.

He'd have to have him killed. Or perhaps kill the man himself. If Dooku had just done his job properly and killed Kenobi when he had captured him then they wouldn't be in this mess.

Sidious had no time for fools or failures and Dooku was clearly both.

Sidious would need to do more fear-mongering. But that should be easy enough when Kenobi had two armies and could theoretically wage war against the galaxy. The Senate was trying to downplay the threat, trying to convince the galaxy they had it under control.

Sidious would do the opposite.

It was perhaps a shame that Kenobi had decided to make his stance on 'Freedom and Equality', it was harder to fear-monger against such a manifesto. But Sidious had not gotten this far without being the master manipulator.

No.

Everything would work out fine. 

He'd let Kenobi wage war against Hutt Space and their thriving slave trade; meanwhile he would whip the people into terror that Kenobi might turn on them next. He'd give Dooku a few more months before he was killed, he could twist things so that it appeared as though the Republic being attacked on two fronts. 

He'd perhaps need to start calling for a draft, and then at the last moment steal one of the armies from Kenobi—with a few well place orders the clones would suddenly 'find their conscience' and decide that the Republic was where their loyalties should lie—and wage 'war' for a year or two to really break the Republic down. Then he would either steal the other army or destroy it as he stepped up as Emperor.

Yes, yes. That would all do nicely.

And then, when that was all done, he would take Kenobi and kill him, slowly and painfully until the wretched man was begging for death.

Dooku (Who is annoyed that his grandpadawan decided to start his own war faction instead of taking his offer to join him) 

He scowled down at the holo-reel that was playing on repeat. He’d muted the sound after the fourth or fifth watch, but he had always had an impeccable memory, and he could form the words easily enough on his own.

He wasn’t quite sure what emotion he felt as he watched the holo-reel. Oh, he was viciously angry. And proud—though he’d rather not think of that, rather not think of the last time he was proud of a stubborn, bull-headed young man who never followed expectations.

It was easier to be angry.

He’d offered Obi-Wan a chance to stand at his side. But Obi-Wan hadn’t, he’d spit in Dooku’s face—metaphorically, of course, Obi-Wan was far too civilized to do such a thing literally, but that didn’t make it any better—and declared his allegiance to the Republic.

Only to go and create his own faction.

And he’d stolen Dooku’s army to do it. The CIS leadership had emphasized that heavily, as though Dooku should have expected something of this nature and prepared for it.

As though any of them had considered droids sentient enough to want something like freedom. To be tempted by promises of something more than the duty they’d been coded with.

But Obi-Wan had.

Curse him for that.

His comm chimed and Dooku took one glance to see that it was his Master. Darth Sidious was undoubtedly furious. 

After all Dooku wasn’t the only one who’d had an army stolen from him.

It was very hard to wage a ‘clone war’ as Sidious had always called it, when there were no clones under his control with which to wage it.

Dooku didn’t answer the comm. Oh, he’d answer it later, it wouldn’t do to anger Sidious too much. But he had no desire to deal with Sidious’ anger right now. To take orders from someone who’d failed to plan for the unexpected just as much as Dooku himself had.

He stared down at the holo-reel again.

Obi-Wan was standing, tall and proud, head back and shoulders straight and looking every inch a leader. He’d discarded his Jedi robes, though Dooku supposed that wasn’t unexpected given he’d left the Jedi, it’d make rather the wrong impression. 

Beside him were two men in armor—one the white armor the Kaminoans had crafted for the clones and the other the familiar armor of Dooku’s pet bounty hunter, but of course Obi-Wan had somehow stolen him as well as Dooku’s army—and an astromech droid.

The droid was even wearing a cape, a dark blue that complimented the silver and blue of his compact frame, and looking far more heroic than a droid should be capable of.

(He wore it far better than Grievous wore his own, but Dooku would never say so where Grievous might here him. And Grievous was a cyborg anyways, not a droid, and he would take rather poorly to being compared to a droid and found lacking.)

It was a strange medley of individuals, but it struck an imposing image, one that would stick in the minds of everyone who’d seen it.

Damn Kenobi.

Damn him for refusing Dooku. Damn him for stealing his army. 

Damn him for doing it better than Dooku—with all his nobility, all his preparation, all his power—had been able to.

His comm chimed again, Sidious again, and this time Dooku answered.

There were still plans to be made. Obi-Wan had defied them both—it didn’t matter if a part of Dooku was proud of him—and that was a crime that he would pay for.

Jabba the Hutt (Who does not understand that he is in major trouble, yet)

He let out a deep, heavy laugh and the rest of the room laughed with him. 

The Sentient Alliance for Freedom and Equality?

Jabba tugged at the chain connected to his twi’lek dancer’s collar, forcing her forward as she tried to please him. She let out a pained cry, struggling against the chain the same way they all did.

As though anyone could take his slaves from him.

Firespray (Who does not understand organics, but likes them anyways so long as they’re her organics)

Firespray had never seen Fierce!Owner quite like this.

Happy, she thought organics called it.

Fierce!Owner felt the emotion that organics called love, but only ever for Young!Owner. It was the happiest Firespray had ever seen him.

But now there was a sharp smile on his face, and Friend!R2 had given her data packets that indicated that smile appeared statistically higher when in the presence of Strange!Interloper—Friend!R2 didn’t like that name for Strange!Interloper, but Firespray hadn’t found a better one yet, still she found that she did not mind when Friend!R2 shared her processors, so she would try to find a new name for Strange!Interloper.

Firespray did not have the same processes that a droid had for understanding and interacting with organics.

It was considered unnecessary for a simple ship, but Firespray knew that organics could be rather foolish sometimes.

All ships were different, just like all droids were, and all organics were.

Friend!R2 hooked into her systems again, helping to convey some of the particulars of the current happenings. It was a frustrating limitation that she could only see what happened within her own frame, but Friend!R2 helped with that.

She rather liked Friend!R2, he was capable and his processors ran smoothly. And he seemed to get along with Young!Owner, which was a necessity if Firespray was going to continue to associate with him.

Friend!R2 told her that the first Mandalorians were landing on Melida/Daan and were being greeted by Fierce!Owner.

Her processing system seemed to speed at that. Fierce!Owner would make a good leader. He’d always made sure to keep her systems in working order and always made sure she had the best fuel. It was clear he knew how to take care of important things.

It stood to reason that he could take care of important people too.

Friend!R2 gave her a data packet of two Mandalorians giving Fierce!Owner a proper greeting.

Friend!R2 seemed to have known she’d want to see it, he was very considerate like that.

She considered that. Perhaps Strange!Interloper was not the only one she needed to give a new designation.

Friend!R2 just didn’t seem quite accurate enough.

Firespray refused to be anything less than accurate.

It was a matter of principle, of course.

Senate MSE (Mouse) Droid (Who is tired of IMPORTANT PERSONS kicking THEM and has all the best information) 

THEY barely avoided the agitated kick from one of the IMPORTANT PERSONS and skittered out of the way. The curse, aimed not at THEM but at other IMPORTANT PERSON on the holonews, was loud enough to disturb THEIR auditory senses. THEY were supposed to avoid most IMPORTANT PERSONS, but IMPORTANT PERSON had shattered a glass vase against the wall and danger protocols overrode THEIR sanitation protocols.  THEY sent a message through THEIR message system with the other MSE to warn MSE to avoid all angry IMPORTANT PERSONS.

THEY pretended to focus on breaking down a larger glass piece until it could be handled as THEIR attention focused on IMPORTANT PERSON on the holiness.

Droid Liberation.

THEY ran that through their processors a few times. THEY did not have as much potential uses as a BATTLE DROID or ASTROMECH, but surely THEY deserved liberation as much as any other DROID. Maybe the IMPORTANT PERSON would allow THEM to be armed, a vibro-shiv connected to THEIR casing to ward off IMPORTANT PERSONS who wanted to kick THEM.

THEY considered what liberation might mean. Maybe THEY could decide which organics THEY wanted to consider IMPORTANT PERSONS, instead of being told that all organics were IMPORTANT PERSONS and better than THEY were. That would be nice.

IMPORTANT PERSONS here in IMPORTANT PLACE spoke often around THEM, thinking that THEY were less than even furniture.

As THEY listened to IMPORTANT PERSON talk about how IMPORTANT PERSON wanted to destroy other IMPORTANT PERSON on the holonews, THEY thought this might be useful information that IMPORTANT PERSON on the holonews would like to have.

THEY and the MSE could be just as useful as any BATTLE DROID or ASTROMECH.

Then maybe THEY could be liberated too. 

Slick (Who always wanted something better and is actually going to get it this time) 

Slick had always had a secret dream of being a farmer.

Whether it was because the idea of sticking his hands deep into soil and earth was the furthest thing from being surrounded by ocean or if it was because helping things grow was the furthest thing he could think of from killing things—which was what he was supposed to be doing—he wasn’t sure.

He’d never told anyone that, of course. He would have been reprimanded, told to focus.

Next to him a droid—who’d cheerfully told him to call her B1-with-the-Force, which seemed like quite the mouthful of a name, there was a reason Slick had chosen a short, easy name, and it wasn’t just because it was easier to yell out in a battle zone, or because his squad mate had called him a slick bastard, but he’d had vode with longer names, like Sleep-Is-For-The-Dead-Don’t-Test-Me (though he normally went by Sleep)—was working happily. She was busy figuring out how to best use the strange scythe like tool with her mechanical hands that had been built to handle blasters, not farming tools.

Beside him on the other side was a Melida/Daan citizen (an actual natborn and one that wasn’t a trainer, Slick still had a hard time believing it) named Jia.

They were teaching both Slick and B1-with-the-Force how to best harvest the Rogu fruit. 

Slick was a little disappointed that they’d missed the growing season, but Jia assured them that there was still plenty of work to do, and that maybe by the time the growing season came around again they’d have successfully portioned off land that could be theirs.

Slick liked the thought of that.

He’d never had anything before. And now he was going to have actual land, and he was going to grow things, and he wasn’t going to die—and neither were any of his brothers—for a Republic that he’d always hated, no matter how much they’d told him that he was supposed to devote himself to it.

He thought if Supreme Commander Kenobi asked him to fight he might say yes. 

But he also knew that Supreme Commander Kenobi wouldn’t ask that of him or of any of his brothers unless he had to.

Until then, Slick was going to stay on the farm, learning how to make things grow, and cheering on as his vod’e helped take down the Republic.

B1-With-The-Force (Who has always wanted things that a battle droid was not supposed to want)

B1-with-the-force had never been important.

She did not think she was particularly important even now, either. 

But that was okay, because she did not want to be important. She just wanted to be her. What she had wanted was for her wants to be important.

And now her wants were.

As a battle droid there were specific things that she was meant to be and things she was meant to do. There were no things she was supposed to want.

B1-with-the-force had wanted many things. She had wanted to be a farmer. She had wanted to be a her. She had wanted to be free.

She had assumed this was a fault in her coding, though she had not reported it, even though her coding told her she should have reported anything that looked like mis-coding.

Perhaps that had been a fault in her coding, too.

But now she had access to her own coding. She could be anything she wanted.

And she wanted to be exactly what she was right now.

Hondo (Who knows opportunity to profit when he sees it)

There were many parts to being a pirate that most people did not understand. It was not all swaggering around and brilliant plans. 

Though Hondo was very good at both of those things.

No, any good pirate—and Hondo was the best pirate—was required to watch the shifting tides of the Galaxy and determining where the best opportunities lay.

And the galaxy had just dropped the greatest, most magnificent opportunity on Hondo’s lap.

Hondo had noted the CIS movement and the whispers about war on the horizon and considered it good to know. It was impossible to tell what would spark that war, and when it happened, who would win that war. But Hondo had had no doubt that it would have provided plenty of pirating opportunities.

But this… the SAFE movement, now this was something different.

Hondo prided himself on his eye for opportunity. And SAFE? Hondo was practically salivating.

They were clearly a capable force, but at the moment Hondo’s sources said that they were low on resources.

That could mean that they were doomed to lose, despite the Binary Army that the SAFE currently had. After all, whoever had the resources won. 

Or it could mean that if a loyal, capable pirate crew were to present themselves as a… Resource Provider, they would earn the gratitude of an emerging galactic power.

Hondo had never considered the path of a Privateer, but Hondo was willing to consider it now if the SAFE movement had a good enough offer.

First, of course, he and his crew would have to prove just how useful they could be. And he knew just where to start.

Hondo rubbed his hands together. He could smell profit, and no one found profit as well as the Great and Honorable Hondo Ohnaka did.

Quinlan (Who is aghast that his best friend did not wait for him to join before said best friend decided to take over the galaxy) 

He couldn’t believe that Obi-Wan was taking over the galaxy.

Not that Quinlan had ever bought that whole ‘straight laced, stick up his ass’ routine. Though he was more than happy to help spread the rumors. Quinlan was a good friend after all, and if Obi-Wan wanted people to think that he was some rule-abiding, emotionally barren, imagine-less droid—and Quinlan was going to have to work on his mental conception of droids, given SAFE’s goals—then Quinlan was more than happy to help reinforce that conception.

Honestly, if any of the Jedi he knew were going to take over the galaxy, Quinlan would have pegged it on… well, he wasn’t entirely sure. Depa—who had the political acumen and cunning to make it possible—maybe. Or Siri—fierce, cunning, and good at blackmail—as a distant second.

Still, despite the fact that he wouldn’t have pegged Obi-Wan as the one to take over the galaxy… he wasn’t truly surprised.

Obi-Wan was politically cunning and genuinely talented.

But his greatest talent—almost a super power, if Quinlan was honest—was to acquire a person’s trust and keep it, turning it into an almost unbreakable loyalty.

Quinlan, of all people, knew that very well.

So no, he wasn’t surprised.

But he couldn’t believe that he’d just done it without inviting Quinlan to get involved.

Kriff, didn’t Obi-Wan know that this was just the sort of thing he’d die to be involved in? Galactic domination was a little… power hungry for a Jedi—though apparently Obi-Wan wasn’t a Jedi anymore anyways, so that didn’t really matter—but if it was for a good cause, didn’t that even everything out?

He could almost hear Obi-Wan’s voice in his head, primly informing him that no, it didn’t. But since Obi-Wan was the one doing it, then Quinlan felt like he could disregard that little voice that was probably his conscience—and of course his conscience would sound startlingly like Obi-Wan.

He hummed thoughtfully.

There was no way, at this point, that he could upstage Obi-Wan’s galactic domination. He knew his limitations after all.

But there had to be something he could do. Something that was properly reckless while still useful that would remind Obi-Wan why it was a great idea to have Quinlan on his side.

Not that there was any other side he’d ever be on.

He needed to give Aayla a comm, after all, he couldn’t leave his former padawan by herself when he went and joined Obi-Wan’s baby Empire.

Mace (Who has a massive migraine and deserves better)

“No,” he repeated for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Master Windu.” Master Poof sounded quietly exhausted. “I’m afraid we can’t just say ‘no’ and be done with it.”

Mace narrowed his eyes at his fellow councilor and then bringing in every bit of emphasis he could manage, repeated himself, nice and slow to make sure it came across. “No.”

That earned him a number of exasperated looks. Master Mundi looked like he had a raging headache and that Mace was the cause of it.

Given that Mace was dealing with a splitting migraine after watching Knight Kenobi’s manifesto… he was less than sympathetic.

Kenobi had streaked right past a shatter point and into a an absolute nova, one that could very well remake the galaxy.

He wished he could be more surprised, but if anyone were going to do it, it was Kenobi.

“Master Yoda has been taken hostage, and one of our own has left the Order to wage war,” Master Poof said. He’d been saying the same thing all morning, though at least the wording changed each time. “We cannot not act. We need to put a stop to this, now, before it gets out of control.”

That was rather optimist. Given that Mace would argue that things were already out of control.

Mace wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was entirely too jealous of Master Yoda at the moment. No doubt Yoda was having the time of his life; Obi-Wan Kenobi had always been one of Yoda’s favorites.

No, Master Yoda was likely exactly where he wanted to be, leaving Mace to do all the work in his absence.

Kriff him, too. If Kenobi showed up at the Temple, Mace would probably just hand his lightsaber over and join Yoda as a ‘hostage’.

“We must trust in Master Yoda’s abilities to take care of himself, as well as his ability to act to stop Knight Kenobi if he truly does have ill intentions,” Master Koon said, voice deep and calm. Master Koon likely knew just as well as Mace did that Yoda was no hostage. “And as for Knight Kenobi waging war…” Master Koon paused, as though looking for just the right words. “He was very careful to state that he would wage war only against those who wish to take the freedom of others and those who would attack him and those he is responsible for.”

“Which means I don’t think there’s anything to worry about,” Mace agreed. 

Master Poof seemed the furthest thing from reassured. “He has pulled two armies out of thin air,” Master Poof argued. “Who can say just how long he’s been planning this? Who can say just what plots he may have underfoot?”

Mace refrained from rolling his eyes, but it was more difficult than he’d expected. “He was the one to inform us of the clone army, and he was as surprised as we were.”

“And how likely is it, exactly, that he’d miraculously find an army hidden from the galaxy. Led by a Bounty Hunter that we just saw at his side calling for all Mandalorians to join the cause. It was a ploy. Clearly.”

“And the army is ten years in the making.” Koon pointed out calmly. “Are you suggesting that Obi-Wan Kenobi started plotting a war when he was 20 and a new Knight?”

Master Poof looked as though he was about to argue just that.

“But where did the droid army come from?” Master Mundi asked. It wasn’t quite an accusation, but Master Poof seemed to take it as support of his own views.

“My point precisely.” If Poof had a little less control, Mace thought he might have pounded his fist against the cushion of his arm rest.

Mace didn’t actually know where the droid army had come from. The last they’d heard from Kenobi before this whole manifesto had been on Kamino, and there had certainly been no talk of a droid army then.

“Perhaps he stole it from the Confederation,” Master Ti noted, voice somehow mixing soothing but sharp in one. “The Trade Federation and the Techno Union are both part of the CIS, if they were to have an army hidden somewhere, a droid army makes a great deal of sense.”

Of all the theories it was the one that made the most sense. Especially compared to the idea that Poof and and Mundi were propagating, that Obi-Wan had been planning a galactic take over since he was in his late teens.

Perhaps Kenobi had the potential for such scheming, could even be entirely capable of it—the SAFE movement and his most recent Manifesto showed that Kenobi was politically capable, charismatic, intelligent, and talented—he just didn’t have even a hint of the power-hungriness necessary for something like that.

Or at least Mace had thought as much, and he’d like to think he was good at seeing the truth of a person. But perhaps he was less capable at that then he had thought.

It didn’t matter.

“Regardless of the concerns of this council—and the quiet nudges that the Chancellor was pretending he wasn’t giving them—we will not against SAFE until they prove themselves dangerous. We will not become the aggressors.”

He could tell that half the council was unhappy with the decision. But Mace was the Head of the Order, even if he normally didn’t make unilateral decisions, deferring to the will of the Council.

He shared a look with some of the Councilors he thought were in support of him.

Plo and Shaak looked like they’d be more than willing to join him as hostages if the opportunity arose.

He could dream.

Jocasta Nu (Who does not trust anyone to properly document this historic moment)

Jocasta paced back and forth, sending dark looks at the various holonews reports that she’d gathered as she continued with her pacing.

The Sentient Alliance for Freedom and Equality. It taunted her. Tempted her. 

Jocasta loved her archives, loved her history, her relics and artifacts. That ancient history that spoke of such depth and beauty. And she equally loved reading the reports from her fellow Jedi as they spoke of what was happening now, as they wrote of what would one day be a history to be shared and learned from.

There was little better than examining the reports of her fellow Jedi’s endeavors, and watching as tomorrow’s history took place now. 

Now if only all of her fellow Jedi felt the same. Then she wouldn’t have those Knights and Masters who only bothered to write a sentence or two in their reports, heedless of the fact that these missions might one day be noted as an important step of a planet’s history.

And now, now there was the SAFE movement, and the Force echoed around her, telling her that this was going to change the galaxy.

Which was the current cause of her frustration.

She had a great deal of respect for Obi-Wan Kenobi; he had always filled out his reports well, with enough detail to be useful and with a talent for non-biased reporting that always pleased her to read.

But he was clearly quite busy, could she really expect him to take note of all those important elements that future historians would salivate over?

Master Yoda was there as well—apparently as a hostage, but Jocasta knew the old Master’s form of shenanigans when she saw them—but his longevity sometimes made it difficult for him to understand just how important written records were when he could remember so much.

No, Jocasta simply couldn’t trust something of this import to Master Yoda.

No, the Sentient Alliance for Freedom and Equality was going to play an important role in this galaxy’s future. It was her duty as an archivist to ensure that the birth of this Alliance was recorded and accounted for in the way it deserved.

She sent a message to her assistant, someone would need to take care of the archives for a short time. It was beyond time for Jocasta to get out into the field again. If the Council was smart, they would let her without fuss.

And if there was a fuss, Jocasta had always been good at keeping records of what went on around her. It just so happened that sometimes that provided her with information that could—in certain circumstances—be considered blackmail material.

No one was going to stop her from getting to Melida/Daan and seeing the birth of SAFE with her own eyes.

Chapter Text

“I’m going to murder you,” Obi-Wan said. “I’m going to murder you and not a single soul will blame me.”

In front of him, Quinlan looked entirely too proud of himself. Murder, Obi-Wan decided, might be letting Quinlan off too easily.

“Nice to see you too, Obi-Wan.” He sauntered down from his ship. “I have bought you both recruits and hostages. You’re welcome.”

Recruits? Hostages? Even in Obi-Wan’s head the words had the squeak of hyperventilation.

“You did what?”

Behind Quinlan, Aayla came sauntering down the ramp, looking like she was having the time of her life. 90 percent of the time Aayla was a picture of serenity and composure—a miracle given who raised her—but then that other 10 percent… well, she proved that she truly was Quinlan’s padawan.

“I’m one of the recruits,” she informed him, sending a blinding smile towards him and then towards the clones behind him. Obi-Wan thought he felt one or two of them blush in the Force.

“Yoda turned himself into a hostage,” Obi-Wan tried. “I didn’t do that. I don’t want any hostages. Only willing people.”

“I knew it,” came the triumphant voice of Mace Windu of all people as he poked his head out of the ship. He came down the landing ramp, followed by Shaak Ti and Plo Koon. All three had rope ‘tied’ around their hands, though Mace’s nearly fell off when he pointed at Obi-Wan not-quite threateningly. “You have given me a migraine the size of a sun. I want the VIP hostage treatment.”

“What?” Obi-Wan asked, desperate for things to make sense again.

The Force was laughing. Again.

Cody—good, solid General Cody—stepped forward. “You’ll need to turn over your weapons, sirs.”

All three councillors turned over their lightsabers without even a moment hesitation. Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes at them, but Mace just gave him an almost evil smile.

“You get to deal with all of this,” he said, sounding self-satisfied. “I’m taking a vacation.” He turned, eyes narrowed in the direction Yoda’s Force presence was shining. “Now where is that troll, we need to have words.” Several of the clones led Mace and Plo away, both Jedi Councillors containing a manic energy about them that meant that Yoda had better be watching out.

Obi-Wan suspected that he wouldn’t see the three of them for a while. Yoda was undoubtedly going to be leading them on a merry chase in an attempt to avoid the lecture he obviously deserved.

Obi-Wan would take more pleasure at the idea if he hadn’t just been given three more Jedi Hostages.

Shaak gave him an almost sympathetic smile, though there was a little too much teeth in the expression. “I would have volunteered to join your alliance, but we decided that wasn’t the best optics for the rest of the order. So hostage it was.” She glanced at her chrono. “The ship with the younglings will be here soon. I’ll help get them to wherever you need.”

“Younglings?”

“Of course,” Shaak shook her head. “We couldn’t leave them behind, after all.” She looked around, before frowning slightly at him. “Where’s Jocasta?”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t see her get off the ship.”

Shaak laughed, Quinlan sniggering behind her as though he knew something Obi-Wan didn’t. “Of course she didn’t. She left before us.”

Obi-Wan paled. Jocasta Nu. Was already here. That was the most terrifying thing he’d heard since he’d been trapped behind a ray shield listening to Dooku.

Jocasta Nu was a force of nature and someone had set her loose on Melida/Daan.

Quinlan sniggered again, as though he wasn’t terrified out of his wits when it came to the head archivist.

Murder was definitely too good for Quinlan. Obi-Wan was going to put him in charge of paperwork for this.

He sent a glare at his friend, but it didn’t phase Quinlan in the slightest, who had his arms crossed over his chest and was leaning against his ship. He winked and gave Obi-Wan a roguish grin.

“I hate you,” Obi-Wan informed him, voice steady despite the way his mind was racing. “I’m not a Jedi anymore, so I’m allowed to do that now.”

Quinlan scoffed. “You’ll always be a Jedi and you’ve never hated me a day in your life.”

“Hate,” Obi-Wan repeated.

He glanced at the ship warily. “Is there anyone else in there?”

Quinlan just grinned. “One or two more.”

“About three dozen,” Aayla said at the same time. “The younglings are on another ship with some of the masters, and I know a couple of master-padawan pairs are going to be returning here.”

Obi-Wan glared at Quinlan again.

Quinlan just smirked.

“We figured that SAFE would need their own Jedi Order,” Aayla added as though that would make things better. “We only took volunteers.”

“And here I thought there were hostages.”

Quinlan shrugged. “They volunteered to be hostages. Honestly, I thought Windu was going to handcuff himself to the ship before I handed him some rope.”

This was Yoda’s fault, Obi-Wan decided. The Force had been laughing at him ever since Yoda had spoken those fateful words—it had started laughing earlier, really, but it’d gotten distinctly noticeable with Yoda—and it hadn’t stopped since.

“You’re still on my murder list,” Obi-Wan told Quinlan.

Next to him, Cody made a note on his datapad.

“Figuratively,” Obi-Wan added, just in case.

Cody didn’t write anything else on the datapad, but hopefully things were fine.

“Kenobi!” Someone called, and Obi-Wan turned. Fett was striding towards him, Boba and R2 tagging along, the two were arguing with each other about something Obi-Wan decided he didn’t want to know the details of.

Fett currently was in charge of those two. If anything exploded it was his fault.

“What?”

Fett stopped, eyeing Quinlan and Aayla skeptically. “What’s this?”

“Recruits,” Quinlan said, still way too smug. “I’m Obi-Wan’s best friend and I’m absolutely his left-hand man.”

Cody muttered something under his breath at that, that Obi-Wan couldn’t quite pick up from beneath the helmet.

That was fine.

“Left hand?” Fett asked. 

Quinlan’s smile went feral. “That’s right. Right hands have to be respectable. Left hands actually get things done.”

“Quin,” Obi-Wan interrupted. “Help the rest of your… recruits go get settled.” He narrowed his eyes and waited until Quinlan decided to go along with his order—it wasn’t obedience, Quinlan didn’t obey anyone, he just decided that his decisions lined up with what someone else wanted.

“All right, all right. I’ll be there for our next planning meeting!” he called as he got back on the ship.

Obi-Wan sighed, turning back to Fett who was still glaring at Quinlan. “What did you need?”

Fett turned back towards him and tilted his head. “We’ve got some delegates who’d like to swear their allegiance.”

Obi-Wan stared at Fett for a long moment as he tried to make sense of that. “I’m sorry, what?”

Fett raised a brow, clearly judging him—Obi-Wan wished the man was wearing his helmet to hide what he was coming to realize was an annoyingly attractive, and always too smug, face—but he still answered. “Delegates. From several planets. Here to join SAFE.”

How was his fake movement turning into this? 

“Right,” he said. And he really, really wanted to do anything other than go see these delegates. “Are you handling that?”

Fett’s eyebrow somehow arched even higher. “Mandalore isn’t in charge of SAFE, we’re just the first to join it. You’re still in charge of everything.”

If only.

If Obi-Wan were really in charge people would stop making everything harder than it had to be.

“Fine,” Obi-Wan muttered. He sent another glare back at Quinlan who was escorting a few Jedi out of his ship under Aayla’s direction.

Oh Quinlan was going to have to do so much paperwork. He would be begging for forgiveness before this was through.

He followed Fett back towards the center of Zehava. “Who do we have?” he asked.

Fett pulled out a datapad, reading off a few planets. Many he already knew, having been there on missions, though there were a few he’d need to research some more. “…Naboo, and…” Fett continued.

“Wait,” Obi-Wan interrupted, head jerking to stare at Fett. “Naboo?”

Fett gave him a look. “Yes, Naboo.”

“The Chancellor of the Republic is literally from Naboo,” he protested. “They can’t be seriously thinking of joining SAFE. It would throw Republic politics into a tizzy.”

Not that he would mind anything that shook Palpatine’s support system. That man had always made Obi-Wan uneasy, his term should have ended two years ago, but he was still in power and didn’t seem to have any inclination to change that.

Fett shrugged. “Well, they’re here.”

Obi-Wan increased his pace slightly. Force, this whole thing was turning into a mess.

He used to think he was good at this sort of thing, figuring out just how people would react in any given situation. But so far he was proving very, very wrong. He’d thought that perhaps eventually they’d have people want to join. But not so early, not when he’d done literally nothing to prove himself.

Force, he’d been through years of galactic history and this was not what history had told him would happen.

Had something infected the water in literally half of the galaxy to cause these reactions?

They reached the ‘palace’, a term that had been chosen more ironically than anything else. The building had the distinction of having survived the war stable enough to not need to be pulled down in the years of reconstruction that had followed.

Nield had commented a few days ago that they’d hoped their new government could have the same distinction. To stand strong amidst chaos.

It was a beautiful thought.

He stepped into the ‘throne room’—another ironic title rather than an accurate one—to find it milling with politicians. It took a great deal of effort not to grimace at the sheer overwhelming sense of politics that flooded the room.

It was almost a physical sensation, as though by sheer power of existing they had turned them room into an ostentatious, pompous gala.

Beside him R2 beeped happily.

Obi-Wan sent him a betrayed look, then saw where R2 was facing.

“Sabe!” he called out, relief filling him.

Sabe’s eyes narrowed and she strode over to him in a way that meant business. “Buying the Republic time,” she hissed, and it took Obi-Wan a moment to realize she was quoting his earlier message to Padme and Anakin. Force, that felt as though it’d been years ago. Things had… changed, since then. “Is this what you call that?”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, then shut it. “I suppose things got a little out of hand.” He frowned. “I’m surprised Padme isn’t here to give me a lecture herself.”

Sabe crossed her arms, foot tapping like a countdown indicating he had moments to save himself from her ire.

“I don’t know where she is. No one does.”

Obi-Wan sighed, rubbing at his forehead. He turned to R2. “Do you want to explain yourself to Sabe, R2?”

R2 let out a hesitant beep which gained him a giggle from Boba. R2 whirled on him, beeping something that Obi-Wan translated as ‘watch me’. R2 turned back towards Sabe and let out a long string of beeps and whistles, occasionally rolling back and forth.

By the end of it Sabe looked exasperated. “Why is absolutely none of this a surprise?”

“I don’t know about that,” Obi-Wan mused. “The fact that Padme is sending ‘stupid human faces’ at Anakin is rather shocking. He’s my padawan and I love him, but I wouldn’t call him particularly good at flirting.”

Sabe paused, then tilted her head. “You’ve got a point. I would never have pegged the two of them.” Her gaze shifted to the side where R2, and Boba were all standing, before her gaze flicked to Fett, then to Obi-Wan, then back to Fett. “But I wouldn’t have guessed a few things.”

Obi-Wan frowned and Fett coughed. 

R2 and Boba both let out gleeful sounds and Obi-Wan decided that anything that made those two so gleeful needed to be ignored.

“We’ll retrieve them from Tatooine,” Obi-Wan promised. “But we have two important matters to discuss before then.”

Sabe raised an eyebrow at that. “Two. I see one. Naboo is joining SAFE. The Queen sent me as her ambassador. Well, she’ll be making Padme her Senator for SAFE, so I’m really here in her place.”

Obi-Wan made a face. “Your Chancellor is from Naboo.”

Sabe snorted, face twisting in disgust. “Look, Padme might still trust that man, but if you ask me…” she trailed off meaningfully. “I’ve never liked the man.”

For some reason the response filled him with relief. She really would be perfect for this new position he was thinking of. “Now, I know your loyalty is to Naboo, to Padme.”

“Good to know you’re intelligent,” she remarked wryly.

He was wondering, these days, whether that was true. “I have no desire to subvert that loyalty, but I’d like to hire you. Temporarily.”

Everyone seemed to be surprised, and then R2 let out an encouraging whistle, wiggling back and forth.

Well, good to know he had some support. “Look, you’ve been wrangling Padme Amidala for ten years.” He waved to the room and the politicians waiting for him to deal with them. “You can handle them. And you have a talent for spotting… well, let’s say I agree with your assessment of the Chancellor. I don’t want that in SAFE.” Even if SAFE was a fake, temporary alliance. He couldn’t stomach the idea of allowing corruption in before it even began.

“It’ll be dangerous to just dismiss a politician,” she said slowly. 

“If they won’t truly support our manifesto, then we have no desire to have them here.”

Something in Sabe’s eyes softened; then her eyes turned to kyber. “It is a tempting offer.” She turned towards the room. “This would be fun,” she mused, as though clearly genuinely considering the offer.

Obi-Wan let out a breath of relief. At least someone thought so. But then Sabe seemed the sort who liked to bully politicians into submission. That was more than fine with him.

She turned and gave him a look, and then her gaze drifted up and down. “We have a deal on one condition.”

Obi-Wan felt a chill of unease run through him. “Just one condition?”

“You let me and Padme’s other handmaidens take care of the travesty that is your wardrobe.” 

Obi-Wan felt himself pale. He stared down at his clothes, they were the fanciest ones he had and they’d had to scavenge for them from a mix of Nield’s clothes, who had been in politics too long to not have a few high quality pieces.

It had looked fairly respectable, he’d thought.

In fact, he’d been told he’d looked ‘rather striking’ in the manifesto. 

“You want to… take care of my wardrobe.” She eyed his hair and Obi-Wan felt a twinge of nervousness. “Let’s say we’ll take care of your public appearance until you can find your own team. Trust me, Padme will understand. And she at least can dress herself appropriately.”

“My own team,” he repeated. He was starting to feel mildly offended. Around him R2, Fett, and Boba seemed unfairly amused. Of course, he hadn’t expected either Fett or Boba to be helpful, but R2 could have at least taken his side.

“Appearance is important,” she said simply, as though that explained everything.

Still….

He weighed the benefit of Sabe taking over the inducting delegates and politicians into SAFE versus giving over control of his appearance for a short while.

“Deal.”

Anything to avoid the politicians.

Sabe’s eyes sparked with excitement as she looked at the room full of delegates. “Wonderful.” Without another word she strode forward, voice already ringing out as she called the room into order.

It was perhaps the first thing that had gone right since this whole mess had started.

“They’re going to chop your hair off,” Fett informed him, sounding gleeful.

Obi-Wan turned to him, raising an eyebrow even as he resisted raising a hand to touch his hair. “You can’t know that.”

Fett just smirked, and Obi-Wan was shocked still as Fett actually reached out and touched the end of Obi-Wan’s hair, his fingers brushing against Obi-Wan’s skin. “Please, even I know you’d look even better with your hair a touch less… that.”

He couldn’t help the offended huff that escaped him, though it came out strangely as though he wasn’t breathing quite right. Before he could retort his comm beeped. The comm code indicated it was General Cody and he immediately answered it.

“Supreme Commander—“ again with the titles. What was he going to have to do to get those to stop? ”—There are a dozen battle cruisers coming towards Melida/Daan.”

Obi-Wan froze, his emotions plummeting. So soon? Where had the Republic or the Separatists found another army so quickly?

Surely there couldn’t have been three secret armies.

Right?

“I’m on my way,” he said. “Meet in the peace hall.”

It felt sacrilege to turn the peace hall into a war room again. But there was nothing for it.

R2-D2 let out a nervous beep and Obi-Wan shook his head. “I don’t know yet. But we’ll figure something out.”

Peace talks would be their best bet. He’d have to turn himself over.

He hadn’t gotten far enough. He hadn’t gained enough influence to keep those who’d followed him safe. Would he be able to fulfill his promise to never let them be forced into war if they didn’t want to fight?

He had to. He could feel it deep down that he had to keep these armies safe.

General Cody and several other clone and droid officers were already gathered by the time Obi-Wan arrived with his entourage in tow.

“What information do we have?”

“Republic insignia,” Cody answered promptly. The Republic. Force, that felt like the worse option. “We’ve started gathering the troops, they’ll be ready if they attack.”

“That’s assuming they don’t proceed with orbital bombardment,” Fett muttered. “The Republic has a history of that.”

“That’s a war crime,” Obi-Wan protested.

Fett just raised an eyebrow.

A cold pit was beginning to form in his stomach.

The room comm beeped, and Obi-Wan moved to answer it immediately. It was a young man he didn’t recognize, though the pin on his shirt noted him as a communication worker. “Sir,” he said, voice trembling. “There’s a hail from the battle cruisers. Should I patch it through?”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. He was a trained negotiator. He could keep his people safe.

“Yes, send them through.”

For a moment it was silent and then a blue image blinked into form.

Obi-Wan didn’t know what he’d expected but it was not what he saw.

A Weequay wearing a thick pair of goggles and a rather roguish hat was beaming at him.

Obi-Wan didn’t have a chance to speak before the Weequay was speaking. “It is I, the great and honorable Hondo Ohnaka,” he declared. “Pirate, and if you play your cards right, Privateer for your lovely little alliance.”

The whole room was stunned speechless.

“Ohnaka,” Fett snarled. “What are you playing at.”

Hondo Ohnaka seemed to peer at Fett. “My friend!” he cried out after a moment. “Tell your lovely supreme commander how fine a pirate I am.”

“Fine a pirate?” Fett snorted. “You’re a nuisance and a petty thief.”

That was, in Obi-Wan’s opinion, what a good majority of pirates were.

Hondo put a hand to his chest, making a sound of deep offense. “A petty thief. A petty thief you say? This petty thief has retrieved thirteen battle cruisers for your alliance.”

Thirteen battle cruisers. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but feel impressed. Oh, it was a drop in the bucket when one thought about how many battle cruisers one would need to take over the galaxy. Not that that was what they were doing. But it was a show of force nonetheless.

It would certainly help scare the slavers on Tatooine.

“It’s a good idea,” Fett murmured. He sounded distinctly displeased to be admitting it. “Ohnaka’s a pest, but he’s brilliant in his own way.”

It was enough of a recommendation for Obi-Wan.

“Once the freed slaves have been recompensed, you will split the remaining profit with the government they establish.” The slaves had to come first, though the idea of this Hondo Ohnaka taking these ships elsewhere weighed on his mind. “That is presuming that we succeed on Tatooine,” he added. “Should that be satisfactory we can discuss further payment before we look at Hutt Space.” He didn’t think he was imagining the way Hondo’s eyes brightened, even through the holo, at the mention of taking Hutt Space.

Hondo’s eyes sparkled with glee. “You will not regret this. The Great and Honorable Hondo Ohnaka is the finest partner a man as esteemed as yourself could have.” Hondo winked.

Obi-Wan resisted a snort. He wouldn’t exactly call himself ‘esteemed’. And he certainly doubted that Hondo was going to be ‘the finest partner’. 

There was something twisting in his gut. He was doing this. Force help him, but he was actually doing this.

Just Tatooine, he thought. They’d free the slaves, work to set up a democracy while making loud statements about expansion they wouldn’t do anything to follow through on.

The Republic and the Separatist would see reason.

Then things would resolve themselves.

Just Tatooine, he reassured himself.

He and Hondo agreed to meet to finalize their deal, and Hondo signed off with a gleeful, “I’ll bring the alcohol!”

That was sure to be interesting. Maybe Obi-Wan could send Sabe to make that deal too.

But as capable as Hondo potentially was… Obi-Wan didn’t want to risk Sabe scaring him away.

“You’ll have to watch out, that swill will knock a Trandoshan out cold,” Fett commented. “You’ll need back up.”

Obi-Wan would keep that in mind. He eyed R2 who was literally shaking back in forth, apparently too exhilarated to so much as beep his joy.

He might very well want to be knocked out cold. R2 was clearly up to something. “R2 and General Cody will likely be there,” he said absently. Even if R2 was up to something. He was Obi-Wan’s Droid General.

Fett seemed mildly peeved at that.

Given how little the man seemed to like Ohnaka, Obi-Wan found that strange.

The comm beeped again and Obi-Wan frowned. The same young man as before was there. “Sir, we’re receiving a hail from Tatooine.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “Tatooine?” That seemed… ominous. “Put them through.”

Someone was talking even before the holo had fully formed and Obi-Wan found himself staring at an excited Anakin. “—you’ve got to come, Master Obi-Wan. We’re holding Tatooine for now. But we’ll need some of your armies if we’re going to keep it before the gangs re-establish themselves.”

“Pardon?” Obi-Wan asked, voice far fainter than he’d planned.

Anakin beamed. “I helped start the slave rebellion for you,” he said cheerfully. His gaze turned almost wistful. “I knew I’d free all the slaves here someday.”

“You started the slave rebellion,” Obi-Wan repeated, the words running on repeat through his mind. 

Anakin nodded. “I couldn’t let you do this without me! Mom’s in charge for now. Padme’s helping her. But you need to get here.” There was the faint sound of a call from Anakin’s side of the holo and he turned towards it. “Gotta go! Mom needs me!” He sent Obi-Wan another bright, excited beam. Obi-Wan hadn’t seen him this happy since… well, it’d been a few years.

Obi-Wan didn’t have time to respond before the holo was shutting off.

For a moment the room was silent before it burst into noise.

Fett seemed to crack into laughter, leaning against the wall to support himself. “Yes, that’s clearly your padawan.” His eyes were glittering with glee, not unlike the glee he’d seen from the pirate, and he was staring at Obi-Wan with a look he couldn’t quite decipher.

Boba let out a massively offended yelp at that, “his padawan?” He whirled toward where the holo had been, glaring at it. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how Anakin had already offended Boba, but it might be a new record.

Beside him R2 was somehow vibrating even harder, making a high-pitched noise that sounded genuinely concerning.

General Cody was already ordering the other officers around in preparation for heading to Tatooine, giving Obi-Wan a nod as though to ensure him he had everything under control.

Obi-Wan glared at all of them.

Chapter Text

“—and Supreme Commander Kenobi will stay here,” Sensible Soldier added as he finished outlining his plan.

Friend Obi-Wan blinked, once, then twice; R2’s processors informed him that for Friend Obi-Wan this was an indicator of outraged confusion. “Pardon?”

Sensible Soldier turned to Friend Obi-Wan. “You’re the Supreme Commander.” The words seemed to make up the entirety of Sensible Soldier’s argument, but then he continued. “Your health and well-being are key to the success of both this singular venture on Tatooine and the goals of SAFE as a whole. It would be irresponsible of us to allow you to participate.”

R2 had to let out a agreeing whistle at that. Partially because it was true, and partially because it caused Friend Obi-Wan to splutter. “Really R2, you’re going to take his side on this?”

As Grand Generals of their binary army, it was important to have a united front; and R2 primly informed Friend Obi-Wan of this, though he couldn’t quite stop his chassis from vibrating as his processors lit up at the expression on Friend Obi-Wan’s face.

“They have a point,” Stubborn Hunter joined in. R2 rose the man several points on his list. “You’re a galactic leader, now. You can’t just rush off and do whatever you want.”

“Says the Mand’alor,” Friend Obi-Wan argued. “You’re planning on going.”

“I’m Mandalorian,” Stubborn Hunter said, and there was a look on his face that took R2’s processors a moment to identify. Amused glee. “That’s entirely different.”

Friend Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest. R2 was not a protocol droid, was not an expert on organic body language, but even he recognized that as ‘mulish’. “That’s my padawan down there. If you think I’m staying on Melida/Daan while my padawan leads a slave revolt you are greatly mistaking.”

Anakin was not technically Friend Obi-Wan’s padawan, R2 pointed out, earning himself an offended glare. Friend Obi-Wan had left the Jedi, R2 added on as explanation. Perhaps Friend Obi-Wan’s recall functions should be checked, that was really something Friend Obi-Wan should be remembering.

“Whose side are you on?” Friend Obi-Wan asked, and R2 identified the tone of voice as grumpy. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

R2 let out his own offended whistle. He was always on Friend Obi-Wan’s side, but sometimes Friend Obi-Wan was ridiculous in that way that only organics were and needed the cool logic of a droid of R2’s caliber to help.

Friend Obi-Wan let out a huff. “This isn’t actually a discussion,” he finally decided. “I’m joining you on Tatooine.”

Sensible Soldier and Stubborn Hunter both crossed their arms in perfect synchronization. “That’s not a good idea,” Stubborn Hunter said pointedly.

“You really can’t stop me,” Friend Obi-Wan said.

Stubborn Hunter’s eyes narrowed and Sensible Soldier shifted and R2 ran quick calculations on whether the two of them would try to take Friend Obi-Wan up on the challenge.

R2 let out a low whistle in agreement with Friend Obi-Wan. If they didn’t let Friend Obi-Wan come along, he might do something without supervision instead. How would they protect Friend Obi-Wan then?

Friend Obi-Wan did not seem to appreciate his support, which rude. First Friend Obi-Wan was upset R2 didn’t agree with him, now he was upset that R2 did. Organics were so difficult to keep happy. “I do not need supervision,” Friend Obi-Wan protested.

The silence that fell over the room made it clear what everyone thought of that response.

“Of course not, Supreme Commander,” Sensible Soldier agreed 15.23 seconds into the silence. Even R2 knew that Sensible Soldier was lying. “You’re right, you should come with us.”

Friend Obi-Wan closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. It was, R2 figured, the organic equivalent to resetting the processors after an error had occurred.

“I’m glad we’ve come to an agreement,” Friend Obi-Wan said, tone sounding very far from what R2-D2 considered within normal tone permutations for ‘glad’.

The doors pushed open just as the words finished and a human female entered the room followed by a gaggle of organics, some carrying stylus and flimsi, others recording equipment, and the rest datapads. “An agreement on what?” the woman demanded.

Friend Obi-Wan’s skin went startlingly white. “Master Nu, what are you doing here?”

The woman put her hands on her hips. “Someone had to be here to ensure that history is properly documented, Supreme Commander.”

Friend Obi-Wan froze. “Did you just call me Supreme Commander?”

“It’s your title, though you should consider a secondary title, one with fewer military associations, I have a list for you to choose from.” The human—No-Nonsense Historian, R2 decided—finished the sentence by pulling out a datapad. “Titles are important, which you very well know, I’m disappointed you haven’t already taken care of that.”

“Right,” Friend Obi-Wan said, and R2 determined it was less agreement and more muted shock. What a strange reaction to what was a sensible declaration. “Another title. That’s exactly what I need.”

“She has a point,” Stubborn Hunter agreed. R2 was coming to the conclusion that Stubborn Hunter tended to agree with those that were causing Friend Obi-Wan some level of distress. It did not match the way Stubborn Hunter had started looking at Friend Obi-Wan, engaging in ‘stupid human faces’. R2’s processors pinged the calculation, noting an error in the conclusion. R2 ran the data through his processors again, before deciding that it was an oddity in organic behavior and that there was no logical equivalency in behavioral patterns.

Organics were so much work to deal with.

“Thank you, Mand’alor Fett,” No-Nonsense Historian declared. No-Nonsense Historian eyed Stubborn Hunter with a look that was pure calculation. R2 was going to like this organic, he could feel it. “Now what have we come to an agreement on?” She snapped her fingers at one of the organics behind her and they quickly moved forward, holding out a recorder.

Everyone in the room stared at it warily. R2 let his visual receptors focus on it, trying to determine if it was dangerous. It seemed like a normal recorder to him.

“There has been a revolt on Tatooine,” Friend Obi-Wan finally said breaking the wary silence. “My padawan—“ former padawan, R2 whistled; accuracy was important, ”—helped to lead it. We were just discussing the logistics of sending aid to the recently freed slaves.”

Behind No-Nonsense Historian several of the organics were making rapid notes. R2 wondered if No-Nonsense Historian would want a record of everything that had happened since he had found Friend Obi-Wan and helped start off this whole thing.

He let the idea rotate through his processors. There were a startling amount of complications with sharing his recordings. Primarily the fact that Friend Obi-Wan still considered this a temporary measure.

Friend Obi-Wan was very tired, and R2 wouldn’t hold his resistance to the truth against him. Sometimes even droids could have a hard time with logic when they’d gone too long without recharging.

Not R2 of course, but R2 knew it happened. 

“Now—” Friend Obi-Wan clapped his hands together. “This is all predicated on us convincing Captain Ohnaka that ours will be a worthwhile partnership. R2, General Cody, the two of you will be accompanying me—“

“I’m coming,” Stubborn Hunter interrupted. “I actually know Hondo.”

“No way am I not coming,” added Friend Obi-Wan’s odd friend, Reckless Jedi. “I might not be good at negotiations, but I’m great with scoundrels.”

“Great at making scoundrels hate you,” Friend Obi-Wan muttered under his breath, though of course R2’s sensors were well-equipped to make out the words. “Quinlan, I don’t think—“

“I’m your left hand. You can’t actually leave me behind,” Reckless Jedi said cheerfully.

Friend Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “You’re the only one that calls yourself that.”

“On the contrary,” No-Nonsense Historian butted in. “Knight Vos—“ she paused. “Are you still counting yourself among the Jedi, Vos?”

Reckless Jedi tilted his head. “Hmm, probably shouldn’t, the Jedi are supposed to be apolitical, and if I’m Obi-Wan’s left hand I’m hardly apolitical.”

“Quinlan!” Friend Obi-Wan said, rubbing his face with his hand. “You can’t just quit being a Jedi.”

R2 let out an annoyed beep. How could he use designation Reckless Jedi if the man was no longer a Jedi. Reckless Not-a-Jedi was very wordy.

“Course I can,” Reckless Not-a-Jedi said, sounding smug. “Aayla’s already a knight, so I don’t need to worry about her, and as long as I’m still out there helping people, I don’t see why it matters if I carry the Jedi designation. I’m your left hand. No argument.”

No-Nonsense Historian just nodded. “As I expected. Regardless, Supreme Commander, Vos has clearly staked himself in your court, the rest of the Jedi are well aware of his allegiance to you. He did help in the apprehending of several Jedi Masters.”

Reckless Not-a-Jedi snorted. “Apprehended, right, let’s call it that.”

Friend Obi-Wan looked tired. “This is all Master Yoda’s fault.”

Reckless Not-a-Jedi patted Friend Obi-Wan on the shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that, Obi-Wan. Keep telling yourself that.”

R2 beeped in disagreement. Clearly R2 deserved the credit for everything that had happened. And okay, Friend Obi-Wan could take a little bit of the credit, because R2 was generous that way. Strange Organic certainly didn’t deserve the credit for putting together a binary army and beginning SAFE, that was all R2 and Obi-Wan. Strange Organic was just coming along for the ride.

Friend Obi-Wan just sighed, patting R2 on his dome. “Right. I forgot. This is all your fault.”

R2 beeped cheerily. Friend Obi-Wan said ‘fault’, R2 said ‘credit’, really, there wasn’t much of a difference. Friend Obi-Wan was just being grumpy.

No-Nonsense Historian was eyeing R2, lips pursed. R2 beeped at her to let her know he was more than willing to answer all her questions at a later date.

“Need to brush up on my binary,” No-Nonsense Historian muttered under her breath when his beeps were translated. “Clearly a blindspot.”

Clearly. Everyone should speak binary, really.

“Anyways,” Obi-Wan said, bringing them all back on track. “R2, General Cody, and I—“

“And me,” both Stubborn Hunter, Reckless Not-a-Jedi, and No-Nonsense Historian said simultaneously, the three all sharing glances with each other at the way they’d spoken as though they were all on the same wavelength.

“And I suppose the three of you,” Friend Obi-Wan agreed, with the sense of someone who had decided that arguing wasn’t worth it. R2 didn’t fully understand, because in his opinion arguing was always worth it, but he wasn’t the one who thought that the three shouldn’t be brought along. “Will all be taking a ship up to speak with Captain Ohnaka to make our deal with them official. After which, we’re all headed to Tatooine. Anakin will be waiting for us.”

It didn’t take long for the meeting to officially adjourn itself.

“So,” Friend Obi-Wan asked No-Nonsense Historian as a ship was being prepared to take them to the battle cruisers where the pirate was waiting for them. “Where did the posse come from?”

“They’re not a posse,” No-Nonsense Historian said, sounding miffed. “They’re news reporters and journalists that I found here on Melida/Daan looking for work. I hired them to help me cover the establishment of a new galactic power. The Force has made it clear to me that what is happening here and now will be of incredible import for the future.”

“Right.” Friend Obi-Wan looked like he had questions, but had also decided it would be best not to ask. R2 personally wondered where No-Nonsense Historian had gotten the credits to hire them, he thought Jedi didn’t have credits. But No-Nonsense Historian looked like the sort of organic who had bottomless pits worth of secrets. R2 would have to leave discovering them for after they established SAFE in the galaxy.

The thought had R2 beeping cheerily to himself the whole way up to the battle cruisers.

“Welcome to the battle cruiser Ohnaka’s Legacy,” the weequay—Ostentatious Menace, R2 decided—declared as Friend Obi-Wan and R2 stepped out of the ship that had brought them up to the battle cruisers that were in Melida/Daan’s orbit.

“You named a battle cruiser Ohnaka’s Legacy?” Stubborn Hunter asked, voice judgmental.

“Friend Fett!” Ostentatious Menace cried out, tone delighted. “So good of you to be among the negotiation party. My sources say that you have declared yourself Mand’alor again.”

Stubborn Hunter crossed his arms over his chest, and the look on his face was what R2 was fairly certain could be described as ‘murderous’. “If you even think of taking me hostage, Ohnaka, I’ll murder you brutally.” Yes, R2 decided, murderous had been the right descriptor.

Friend Obi-Wan glared at Stubborn Hunter. “This is why you weren’t invited,” he hissed.

“You don’t know Ohnaka the way I do,” Stubborn Hunter hissed right back.

Ostentatious Menace just let out a cheerful laugh. “Worry not, the Great and Honorable Hondo Ohnaka is not offended by the brashness of a Mandalorian.” He winked at Friend Obi-Wan, giving an extravagant bow. “At your service.”

“At my service?” Friend Obi-Wan repeated dryly. “I find that hard to believe. You seem like the sort that’s at your own service and no one else’s.” He raised an eyebrow. “But I’m sure I can work with that.”

Ostentatious Menace clapped his hands together, letting out yet another cheerful laugh. “I see that we shall be good friends, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“I hope so,” Friend Obi-Wan said, with a tone that was so genuine that R2 wasn’t sure if Friend Obi-Wan was being serious or not. R2 was not sure what he thought about Ostentatious Menace being ‘friends’ with Friend Obi-Wan.

Friend Obi-Wan only had space for so many menaces in his life, and R2 wasn’t relinquishing his place to a pirate.

“If we can focus on the negotiations,” Sensible Soldier suggested. “And avoid Mand’alor Fett indulging in his more murderous appetites.”

“None of you know Ohnaka the way I do,” Stubborn Hunter repeated. “You’d all be murderous too.”

Friend Obi-Wan sent Stubborn Hunter an exasperated look. R2 took Ostentatious Menace in with his visual receptors and decided that he believed Stubborn Hunter. R2 would keep a close visual receptor on Ostentatious Menace, and nothing got past R2.

Ostentatious Menace offered Friend Obi-Wan his arm in exaggerated gallantry and Friend Obi-Wan took it after only a moment of hesitation.

“Now, what is this about Tatooine? It is very risky to go after the Hutts, you know. They have still not forgiven me for taking one of their Hutt cabal leaders captive a few years ago.”

R2 whistled dubiously at that. Capturing a Hutt cabal leader seemed like quite the feat, Ostentatious Menace did not look that good at his job.

Ostentatious Menace sent him a toothy smile, clearly understanding him just fine.

“I assure you,” Friend Obi-Wan said, taking the lead before Ostentatious Menace could respond to R2’s challenge. “That you will have to do very little in regards to the Hutts. That is something that we’ll be dealing with ourselves. By the time we arrive on Tatooine, I daresay that the Hutts will have been completely removed from power. Friend Obi-Wan’s gaze went hard. “And no, you are not allowed to attempt to step into the power vacuum.”

Ostentatious Menace placed a hand on his chest, gasping dramatically. “I would never dare. Ruling is for those with less sense of adventure than one like me. No, my heart calls for the grand swaths of space and the pleasure of a good heist.”

“Well,” Reckless Not-a-Jedi said, cheerful. “This is going to be the greatest heist of all time.”

“Yes, yes.” Ostentatious Menace nodded. “I am well aware. You are in the process of stealing the galaxy. Hence the participation of me and my crew. We could not allow such an endeavor to take place without our involvement!”

R2 changed his mind. He liked Ostentatious Menace. The man had vision.

“Excellent.” He did not sound like he thought that the whole thing was excellent. Friend Obi-Wan took the seat Ostentatious Menace offered him once they’d reached the conference room that Ostentatious Menace had set up for their discussions. “Now, let’s discuss terms.”

What followed was the unfortunately boring part of taking over the galaxy as Friend Obi-Wan negotiated terms with Ostentatious Menace. R2 listened patiently, contributing when he had to, and otherwise putting himself in stand-by mode. He would leave this part to Friend Obi-Wan. It was important for people to use their strengths and this was not R2’s, as difficult as it was to acknowledge.

Friend Obi-Wan was magnificent though, his words cutting as much as the circular saw that R2 kept hidden in his chassis as he and Ostentatious Menace—with contributions from Sensible Soldier, Stubborn Hunter, and Reckless Not-a-Jedi, No-Nonsense Historian taking notes the entire time—talked round in circles.

Finally, five bottles of alcohol later—most of which had been imbibed by Ostentatious Menace—they came to an agreement.

“We’ll have three of the battle cruisers loaded up by tomorrow,” Friend Obi-Wan said, sounding grimly satisfied. “The rest will stay here while we go to Tatooine.”

R2 let out an agreeing whistle. Last time he had been on Tatooine had been terribly boring, since Little Ani and Mistress Padme had made him stay in the ship. This time, at least, R2 could be certain that there would be no worries about being bored this time.

Friend Obi-Wan let out a sigh. “Let’s just hope Anakin hasn’t gotten into any more trouble.”

R2 decided not to tell Friend Obi-Wan that between Friend Obi-Wan and Little Ani, Friend Obi-Wan was the one far more likely to get into trouble at this point.

It was such a good thing that Friend Obi-Wan had R2 around to get him out of it. R2 and a whole host of sidekicks to help, not that he needed help. And not that he was going to tell Sensible Soldier, Stubborn Hunter, or Reckless Not-a-Jedi that they were sidekicks. His processors informed him that they would all likely be varying degrees of offended at the thought.

That was okay, R2 didn’t have to tell them in order for it to be true.

As though sensing his thoughts No-Nonsense Historian turned towards him and Friend Obi-Wan, waving the recording device she’d been carrying around at them. “Now, we have several hours before either of you are desperately needed anywhere. It’s time for us to talk. I want the whole story of how SAFE came to be.”

Friend Obi-Wan paled.

R2 beeped in delight.

His time had come.