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Chapter Text

Fear flickered through Obi-Wan the moment he saw the helmets on stakes off the road to Anchorhead. During the nearly two years he had been on the planet, he’d observed the Empire’s nascent stranglehold on Tatooine rely largely on an air strategy of looming star cruisers and low-flying fighters. The two white helmets meant troopers had been in town recently. And had encountered resistance. Obi-Wan’s heart stuttered, and pin pricks crawled up his back. The Empire would come back and not quietly.

The helmets did not gleam in the long reach of the suns’ morning rays like that of the armor the Empire boasted about handing out to its new recruits. Even against the washed-out desert backdrop, they were dull and showed their age.

As his route towards town took him closer to the helmets, Obi-Wan recognized the design. It was standard Republic-issued armor and, though they had been stripped of any distinguishing colors, the helmets could have only belonged to clones.

The realization stabbed him in the gut, fear warring with sorrow. He had been gone for two years. Obi-Wan had been alone for two years. Everyone had been—

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, then another. He needed to fill his lungs lest his thoughts consume him. Centering his mind on the sensation of the suns’ kissing his face led him back into the present. The present at least offered plenty of dilemmas Obi-Wan could fixate on instead of ruminating about the past.

The Empire in Anchorhead was a problem of rancor-sized proportions, but Imperial clones were a krayt dragon-sized problem.

Obi-Wan stopped to consider his options. Risk continuing into town and potentially being identified by Imperial clones. Or, turn back and ration his resources for however long it might take for the Empire to retaliate and redeploy. He wavered, unsure of the best course of action, and let the helmets off in the distance draw his attention from making a decision. For the first time since spotting the helmets, Obi-Wan saw the low mounds of dirt and sand in front of each stake.

This was not the warning that Obi-Wan had inferred. These were graves. But graves? Obi-Wan had never heard of Imperials burying their dead. And who would bury Imperial clones?

It was too strange, and the many unanswerable questions left Obi-Wan unnerved. Retreating to the wastelands would be the safest option. He’d manage with what he had until the Empire came and left again. Luke had only just mastered walking and running and would need Obi-Wan more than Obi-Wan needed polystarch.

---

Three days later, after the cruiser departed and the wisps of black smoke rising out of town had dissipated, Obi-Wan again set out for Anchorhead on his eopie. His food supplies were running low, and the long shadow cast by the cruiser had shaken too many memories loose for Obi-Wan to sit still.

His body thrummed with worry about the devastation he might find by heading into town, but had heaved with heartbreak when left alone recalling the days and nights he had spent on a cruiser not unlike that one and the happiness he had found there among the horror. Now, all he had was the horror.

Obi-Wan wanted so badly to remember the time before without regret. He wanted to revel in his memories of Cody, who had been his mooring, always holding him steady when he felt so adrift, always an oasis of calm, but every glimpse dug into a part of him that bled with agony. The way his eyes smiled more than his mouth. Why? The way he’d use his hand to cover his face when he really grinned. What did I miss? The way his lips felt on Obi-Wan’s. Why didn’t I do more? The way his hands spoiled Obi-Wan’s body. What happened to you?

The questions tormented Obi-Wan often, not always confined to one source of despair, switching depending on the day from a loved partner to a loved brother. One man, whose fate he had set in motion, who now pillaged the galaxy searching for him. One man, whose fate he dared not imagine, because if he were alive, maybe there was hope. But if he were alive, and Obi-Wan had abandoned him to that fate—

Obi-Wan inhaled and focused on the immediacy of the suns heat on his skin. He was on the road to Anchorhead, he was on Tatooine, he had a mission, Luke, that was what was important.

He was prepared for the clone trooper helmets this time. Except the grave site had been trashed. One of the helmets was gone and the other had been knocked off its stake. Obi-Wan halted the eopie and looked around. They were the only sentients on the horizon. With no spying eyes around, Obi-Wan padded over to the site.

Obi-Wan knelt to pick up the helmet that remained. It was as Obi-Wan remembered, surprisingly light for its sophistication, but solid and sturdy. The front gave away nothing and he turned it over in his hands.

Long live the Imperial Army!

Obi-Wan startled at the ink scrawled across the back of the helmet. The Imperials desecrated this memorial? Why? Obi-Wan surveyed the area and his eyes landed on the wooden stakes. They weren’t just support posts, they were purposefully scarred with neatly etched lines. Leaning in closer, Obi-wan recognized the markings as words, as Mando’a.

There is no death. My brothers live within me.

Obi-Wan’s blood stopped but his mind raced. He’d heard the rumors that the Empire had somehow turned the clones into automatons, had wanted and not wanted to believe it at the same time. He’d heard that despite their subjugation, the Empire was replacing clones with ‘superior’ human recruits. Nothing he’d learned about the Empire suggested they would tolerate clones with the independence and empathy to bury their brothers. To bury their brothers under the words of the Jedi. If it hadn’t been Imperial clones, could there be others out there? Amid the theories crashing into disbelief and doubt, Obi-Wan sensed the sprout of something foreign. The slender possibilities watering a small bud of hope peeking through the arid desert.

He shoved the remaining helmet in his market bag and shuffled back to the road.

Obi-Wan stretched to shut down his thoughts again, focusing on the suns’ light. Letting the rays nurture the small bit of hope within him.

---

Anchorhead had survived the Imperials. Piles of destroyed furniture outside of homes marked a trail of cruelty, but the people were not so easily broken. Nods from shopkeepers greeted Obi-Wan as easily as the aroma of bread baking, like any other day. The Empire demanded obedience and fealty through terror, but here were the faithless.

Business transpired as usual among the stalls in the market. Derroh had millet and jogan fruit. Ne’seti was only low on Lothal tea, which he couldn’t afford to spring for on every trip into town anyway. And among his trinkets, Eyrin had the dregs of what skirmishes the town had seen: spent blaster cartridges, a few empty ammo crates, and miscellaneous pieces of Imperial trooper armor.

Obi-Wan sifted through the vambraces and shoulder plates. Somewhere in his hovel, he had pieces like these, from early in the war. He’d stopped wearing it, at some point it had become superfluous with Cody at his side, all the armor he needed. But this Imperial-grade plastoid was nothing like what Cody had worn, how much sturdier it was as Obi-Wan pried it off him. Obi-Wan briefly cradled the memory before letting it go.

“If none of that junk interests you,” Eyrin said, bringing Obi-Wan out of his reverie. “I’ve got a real collector’s item available for the right price.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan inquired, leaning into the distraction. And as his main source of galaxy gossip, Eyrin was someone Obi-Wan tried to keep humored.

The Rodian reached below the display and revealed another Republic-era trooper helmet.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan feigned composure. His heart rate picked up again, he hadn’t expected to see the other helmet show up here.

Eyrin flipped the helmet upside down and motioned it towards Obi-Wan. “It’s authentic, you can see the clone’s ID right there,” he said, pointing at a small, neatly penned CT-8813 followed by ‘Cribs’ inside the brim. Obi-Wan swallowed against his rising nausea. As a helmet, it had been abstract. Now… He hadn’t known this trooper, but Cribs had been someone’s brother, someone’s friend. Eyrin was still talking. “These are getting harder to find and you’ll pay way more for one of these bad boys at the markets in Mos Espa and Mos Eisley.”

Obi-Wan took a breath to respond.

“I think I’ll pass this time, Eyrin, thank you,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “Do let me know if you come upon any more, older perhaps?”

“I’ll see what I can do, my friend,” he replied, putting the helmet back under his table scattered with cheap keepsakes of various provenances.

“But I’ll take these,” Obi-Wan said. He picked out two flat, black stones from an assortment of rocks Eyrin offered from around the galaxy.

On his trip back to the wastelands, Obi-Wan stopped at the memorial to the two men who had once served the Republic. Who had once been more than soldiers or stormtroopers, they had been brothers, individuals. They deserved to be remembered, too.

Obi-Wan palmed the stones in his pocket and placed one next to each grave marker. “There is no death, there is only the Force,” he said. This time, it was not the suns’ shine that centered him, it was the soft glow of the Force. Through it, he felt peace and he felt his own hope growing.

---

Obi-Wan started a new journal.

On the first line, he wrote Cribs : CT-8813. The helmet he’d liberated had belonged to Moony, CT-6634. He wrote the man’s name on the second line.

As he took the first steps of this new ritual, he felt the excruciating silence of his solitary room ease. His shoulders dropped and he could breathe through his abdomen.

He craved true serenity, but would settle for liveable. He would need the support.

The next names were much harder to write.

Gearshift

Longshot

Waxer

He kept going, writing down as many of their men as he could remember. Adding the 501st and Plo’s and Secura’s men and Ponds and on and on. Not for the first time, Obi-Wan wished Cody were there, like it had been before, when they could toss aside the datapads detailing their losses in cold words and hold each other, feel the other alive and close, and let the peace and quiet talk for them as they shared the burden of command. His heart twisted at the memory, but this time the ache didn’t break him. He held onto the warmth and let the cold go.

By the end of his list, Obi-Wan could only remember the faces and how they had felt in the Force, but not their names. Cody would have remembered all of their names. The pages stared at him. Each one of them was the Force now, and they lived on in their brothers.

Perhaps even in brothers who had managed to escape the Empire. Who were carrying on the vode’s ways. Who were rebelling. Obi-Wan could hope.

---

Increasingly, Obi-Wan found himself looking forward to making the trip into Anchorhead. Not only was it an chance to indulge his newfound taste for haroun bread and perhaps glean some updates on the state of the galaxy, but each trip offered an opportunity to reflect and remember and lay a stone at the graves.

As the weeks passed and the sand whipped over the desert, scraping and reshaping the land, the two stakes and the subsequent stones placed by Obi-Wan endured.

Through his visits to Eyrin, Obi-Wan discovered a handful of new names for his register of the fallen. But as he also learned in his visits to Eyrin, clones were quickly becoming obsolete to the Empire. Their numbers were dwindling as the Imperial military sought to elevate their true believers. It imparted an urgency into Obi-Wan’s project, to preserve the memories of those clones he could, before they were all one with the Force.

Previously, Obi-Wan had found few reasons to venture as far north as Mos Eisley. But Eyrin’s suggestion that the market there would have more war detritus sparked his interest. Documenting the names of the fallen clones felt important and worthy and it gave him a function beyond ‘keep watch’. If a trip to Mos Eisley, would further his goals in the face of an encroaching Empire, he could muster the energy to go.

---

The road to Mos Eisley was worn into the earth in a way the route to Anchorhead shifted with every storm. Traveling by eopie meant listening for the hooligans on speeders coming up fast and giving a wide berth to the tradesmen traveling with banthas.

Obi-Wan spared enough attention to scan the horizon as he got closer to the city, nominally to keep an eye out for ne'er-do wells.

Eventually, he did spot what he was hoping to find.

Obscured by a rust-colored outcropping of rock a hundred meters off the road were three weathered stakes clustered together. These graves were better hidden than those outside of Anchorhead, and it allowed Obi-Wan the opportunity to linger over the memorial without drawing unwanted attention.

The stakes had the same message carved into them, There is no death. My brothers live in me. As he ran a finger over the words in Mando’a, Obi-Wan noticed the other sides of the stake also had words etched into them. One side indicated the date a few weeks earlier the men must have fallen. On the back of the stakes were their names and identification.

One of them had been a commander. It was the first time Obi-Wan saw a CC-number on a grave or a helmet and his stomach dropped out of his body. He hadn't known the man, but. But. He wanted to vomit but had nothing inside him. He knew, he knew no clone was immune to the whims of the Empire. He knew that, but.

Obi-Wan had tried so hard not to let his mind sink too deeply into the bleak possibility that Cody was… not alive. That Obi-Wan was too late, too weak, too cowardly. He had never seen an CC-number in his antique hunting. He’d thought, maybe hoped, they were insulated from the purge.

He shook his mind clear of the panic taking hold. He had no insight into Cody’s fate, for better or worse, he reminded himself. If he had, he would have acted. He hoped — gods he hoped — Cody was alive, but he had no way of knowing. No way of knowing who or how to ask. All he could do was endure until he knew more.

So he kept going. He had kept track of the graves and helmets he ran across in Anchorhead and he was making this trip to Mos Eisley to keep the brothers' memories alive. Centering himself, Obi-Wan took note of the names and numbers on the three graves and continued on. He would have to acquire stones in Mos Eisley and stop again on his way back.

---

Obi-Wan had not prepared himself for how physical the market in Mos Eisley would be. It wasn’t only that there were more sentients, but he was expected to push and elbow and force his way through the crowds to view the wares at any given stall.

Typically, Obi-Wan kept himself closed off from the Force when he was meditating or seeking its centering power. In Mos Eisley, Obi-Wan thought the Force might better nudge him through the crowds towards the answers he was looking for.

As he let the Force prod him, he felt another presence. An outsider grazing the periphery of his reach. Obi-Wan pulled back, and closed himself off to the Force. He would let his tactile senses lead him while keeping an eye out for whoever was lurking around the edges of Mos Eisley.

A stall cluttered with military paraphernalia caught Obi-Wan’s eye. While Eyrin could offer a Republic-era helmet or two each month, this one vendor had five. Obi-Wan muscled his way through the throng of onlookers to investigate the merchandise.

“Hello, hello!” the heavily modded human behind the register greeted him. “We offer the finest in genuine Republic and Imperial military wares, my friend! What can I interest you in? I’ve got goods to meet every desire!”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile at the customer service. “I’m mostly interested in your clone armor,” he said.

“Yes, yes! A man of fine taste,” they said. “Please, inspect as you wish, you’ll find only the best here!”

Reverentially, Obi-Wan picked up the helmets one by one, searching for clues like the speck of red paint he’d found on the inside of one of the helmets Eyrin had acquired.

What he hadn’t expected — the odds were so slim, he'd assured himself — was finding a name and number of a man he'd known.

It was so late in the war, they had seen so many men come and go, but they still both made time to meet the new troopers. It was their burden that they bore together. Always together.

“Books, sir!” the shiny declared.

“I hope that’s because you’re always by the books, trooper,” Cody said at his side, leaning into him more than necessary but more than welcome.

The trooper’s eyes flitted between him and Cody, “uh,” he tried, “no sir, I mean yes, sir. I mean, I follow the rules, sir. But, it’s more because I like reading holonovels, sir.” With that admission, he stared at the hangar deck rather than meet his commander’s demanding gaze.

Obi-Wan captured Cody’s eye instead. “One of mine, then?” he quipped.

Cody inclined an eyebrow at Obi-Wan and pressed their bodies closer, “One of yours, sir.”

Obi-Wan felt the spike of anguish he shot into the Force before he could stop it. It was a careless oversight, but one he hoped went unnoticed by whoever was lurking about. He schooled his mien and moved on to note the names and numbers on the remaining helmets. He had a mission, even if it was only for himself

A flare in the Force forced him to pause. The presence that prodded him before hadn’t missed the distress Obi-Wan had broadcast for all to hear. It was begging Obi-Wan to respond.

He ignored it.

“How much for this one?” Obi-Wan asked about Books’ helmet.

“70 credits,” the vendor said, obviously angling to bargain. Fifty would have been a good price.

Obi-Wan was not in the mood. He wanted to return to the wastelands and meditate and find peace. He dropped 70 credits on the table and put the helmet in his bag.

---

Approaching his hovel, Obi-Wan sensed the same flare in the Force he’d felt in the market. When he reached out to it, the Force beckoned him forward, much like before. Sensing no darkness or subterfuge in the presence, Obi-Wan carefully stepped into his home.

The first thing he noticed were the robes on the hooded figure. Then the unmistakable aura of Ahsoka opened up to him and he was awash in a joy he hadn’t felt in years. The last time he had seen her, he’d sent her off to Mandalore with the 332nd, already with the odds against her. He’d assumed the worst, but she had survived.

“Ahsoka!” he beamed in surprise. She tossed off her hood.

“Obi-Wan,” she smiled back with none of the same surprise. Obi-Wan stilled at the realization, had he been that easy to track down?

“How did you find me?” he asked.

“To be honest, I didn’t know who I’d find here,” she demurred. “I heard an off-hand remark. One of my,” then she seemed to search for a word, “associates said someone had been stacking rocks on trooper memorials on Tatooine. I figured it was worth finding out if there was a dissident we could recruit, or maybe a free clone.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hold out a little hope it was you.”

Hope. Hope had brought her here. Hope had given Obi-Wan part of his family again. Hope showed him he wasn’t alone.

“I’m so grateful to see you, young one,” he whispered, drawing her in for a hug. He had so many questions, wanted desperately not to let her go. “But you shouldn’t stay here long.” There was too much at stake. Two Jedi together was playing with fire, two Jedi both hunted by Vader on Tatooine was reckless.

“I know,” she sighed. “I needed to warn you, though.” She took a deep breath. “A Sith Lord is looking for you. Everywhere.”

“I’ve heard as much.”

She looked at him sideways. “How much?”

“Enough. That he’s alive, that he’s angry.”

Ahsoka nodded slowly, mulling her next words carefully. Obi-Wan could sense her apprehension.

“I watched you in the market,” she confessed. “I saw you checking the trooper helmets on sale, looking to see who they belonged to.” Obi-Wan clenched his jaw in preparation for whatever news had her so nervous to divulge. “Cody’s alive,” she said, “but—”

Obi-Wan huffed out a ragged breath he’d been holding. “Where?” he asked before he even knew what he could do with the information.

Ahsoka’s brow was furrowed but she put a hand on his forearm. The light touch melted away the tension in the folded arms he was using to hold himself together. “Obi-Wan,” she said, too quietly for good news. “He’s not himself right now. There are these chips in every clone’s head that the Empire uses to control them. We’ve been able to free some clones, but—”

“Ahsoka, please,” Obi-Wan strained to squeeze out. Her preamble to avoid telling him what he needed to know served only to wring his being further. “He’s alive. Where?”

She looked at him with the wide eyes of a scared padawan and a trembling lower lip.

“Mustafar,” she managed to say before looking away, searching the room for a less bitter answer. “With—” her words stumbled to a stop. Obi-Wan didn’t need a name to know she meant Vader. “Obi-Wan, the Sith, he takes Cody with him everywhere. The stories from the survivors of the places they go,” she trailed off, her voice shaky.

Obi-Wan had seen the aftermath in the Jedi temple. He didn’t need to imagine the horrors. But Cody hadn’t and wasn’t choosing this destiny, a chip and the Empire were forcing it upon him. He was a prisoner of a war with no end to his captivity and his bondage at Vader’s side was no coincidence. Vader knew exactly how to torture Obi-Wan, even with a galaxy between them.

“You said you’ve freed some clones?” Obi-Wan asked.

Ahsoka’s grip on his forearm tightened and her gaze turned warning.

“The Sith has been hunting you and he hasn’t found you,” Ahsoka said. “Please keep it that way. The underground networks were hand-fed this intel, Obi-Wan. He wants you to know. He’s laying a trap.”

“Of course he is, my dear,” Obi-Wan sighed. “And he’ll already know I’m coming.”

“Obi-Wan, don’t, you’re safe here” Ahsoka pleaded. “Cody wouldn’t want you to walk into a trap just for him.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Obi-Wan agreed. Cody had raised an eyebrow at more than a few of Obi-Wan’s schemes in the past. Yet despite any of his reservations about a given gambit, Cody would join Obi-Wan on the front lines every time, even when he could have led from the fleet and let Obi-Wan clean up his own messes. “But I’m afraid his sound strategic reasoning hasn’t always foiled my plans to single handedly save the day.”

Ahsoka growled in frustration and, like an exasperated commander, ordered, “You’re not going alone.”

“You’re not coming with me,” Obi-Wan protested. Handing Vader two Jedi was out of the question. Besides, while Beru could handle most anything Tatooine or the galaxy threw at Luke, especially with Vader distracted, Obi-Wan had to consider the worst. “You would do me a great service by keeping an eye on my neighbors until we get back.”

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes, and he could feel her reaching out with the Force, testing his resolve. He hadn’t been this sure of purpose in years. She relented. “I’ll message Rex. He’ll go with you.”

Rex! Alive and free. Obi-Wan’s confidence in the mission multiplied. They were going to liberate Cody from the Empire. He was going to bring Cody home.

“Thank you, Ahsoka,” he said. “For everything. You’ve given me more than I can say.”

She did not look convinced. But she said, “May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan.”

He knew it would. He sensed its certainty shining around him.

Chapter Text

“The way I see it, we have two options,” Rex said. “Lure Vader and Cody to us and hope we can handle however many Imps they bring with them,” clearly not his preferred option, “or, we take them by surprise and show up where they are already going.”

The cramped cockpit of Rex’s ship reminded Obi-Wan of his own living arrangements on Tatooine, less dusty but just as impermanent. Easy to pick up and move at the hint of danger.

“How would we know where they’re planning to go next?” Obi-Wan asked. Falling back into the rhythm of battle planning was its own sort of homecoming.

“The Empire has a military precision to its bloodshed,” Rex glowered. “If you know what patterns to look for, you’ll know which planet they’re planning to target next.”

During the war, when preventing bloodshed had been their primary goal, Obi-Wan relied on Cody’s infallible strategic mind to lead the deployment of their troopers and supporting elements. Now, it seemed Vader was using the same skillset for violence. The wrongness of it made Obi-Wan’s hand tremble.

“And you think they would both be there?”

“Vader rarely misses an opportunity for violence these days. And if he’s there, the intel says Cody will be there.” Rex shifted to glare into the endlessness of space. “And this next opportunity,” he glanced at Obi-Wan, “happens to be on Yerbana.”

Oh. Anakin had certainly been upset the last time they visited Yerbana.

After the 501st had appeared, after Anakin had sauntered in, after a missile had nearly shattered Obi-Wan’s only peace, they were all called back to the cruiser for an urgent message before Obi-Wan ever had a moment to center himself. The intensity of the war had been building like a tidal wave, the crest threatening to take everything and everyone with it.

Obi-Wan hurried off the LAAT in the hangar, heading towards the bridge and clutching Cody at his side. This wasn’t their cruiser, but he still knew every nook and cranny and discreet doorway. His heart was in his throat and his mind was still on Yerbana when he picked the next obscure hallway with a secluded bulkhead to push Cody into and up against a wall.

Just one minute, he would give himself one minute to settle his fears and anxieties. He cupped his hands on either side of Cody’s face and Cody’s arms snaked around him. They had long since passed having to exchange words to know what the other was feeling, what the other needed. Obi-Wan drew Cody into a kiss and his mind cleared as their lips captivated each other. Cody was his best meditation.

The war demanded they didn’t linger, and so they came up for air after a few moments, still holding each other close, heads together.

Anakin’s “Obi-Wan—” overlapped with Rex’s “Sir, I wouldn’t—”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, but didn’t move, didn’t want to move, he needed every second he could steal to sink into Cody and rebalance himself before whatever came next.

And what came next was an icy grip on his synapses, Anakin’s spike of rage palpable in the Force. He focused instead on the warmth from Cody’s hand flat and firm at the small of his back.

“Master,” Anakin said through gritted teeth, the Force thawing but his tone remaining frosty. “We are expected on the bridge.”

Obi-Wan sighed and opened his eyes, finding Cody’s already waiting for him. The war had been so long, had taken so much, but it had given him this. Cody pressed his forehead into Obi-Wan’s and used his hands to nudge them off the wall and back into action.

“Of course, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, ignoring the daggers the man’s eyes were shooting his way. “Let’s not keep the admiral waiting any longer.”

“And let’s not let our emotions cloud our thinking, Master Jedi,” Anakin spat back. “Someone I thought I knew told me that more than once.”

“Not now, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. It wasn’t the first cut Anakin had taken and it wouldn’t be the last.

What if he hadn’t assumed his own tacit understanding of Anakin and Padme had been reciprocated? What if—but Obi-Wan drew himself out of the past before it could swallow him in what ifs.

“Yes, between Ahsoka leaving and, well you were there, I think upset might be an understatement,” Obi-Wan said, guilt gnawing at the base of his skull. He exhaled, trying to let go. As much as he knew he wasn’t responsible for Anakin’s reactions, it would take longer to truly accept. He couldn’t help but shoulder the blame. “Not without reason, I suppose.”

“What, because of Padme?”

“Oh, you knew about that, too? Well, I’m sure he imagined the circumstances were entirely the same, but I’d have argued differently, given the chance.”

For many reasons, the first of which Obi-Wan would have argued was that neither he nor Cody ever put each other ahead of their duty to the Republic. Not that it would have consoled Anakin. In the end, he imagined it was the sin of omission that had riled Anakin, just one more offense he would add to his pile of grievances.

“You and Cody weren’t exactly what I would call subtle before Yerbana,” Rex said, offering a welcome attempt to lighten the mood.

“Hmm, we did rather enjoy each other’s company,” Obi-Wan agreed.

“Obviously,” Rex groaned. “If I had a credit for every time people raved about your ‘particularly close relationship,’ I’d have made an actual salary.”

At that, Obi-Wan laughed. A long pent up joy longing to break out as the images came to mind unbidden of wanton looks across the holotable, of discarded armor on the floor, of that smile that seemed to be just for Obi-Wan until his vision became blurry and the mirth gave way to a searing ache in the pit of his stomach. He wiped away the moisture from his eyes and caught Rex staring sympathetically. “I just miss him so much,” Obi-Wan admitted, using his sleeve to hide a sniffle.

“Me too,” Rex said. “We’re going to get him. He’ll be home soon.”

His confidence and experience convinced the stabbing pain in Obi-Wan’s gut to at last relent.

---

The flight to Yerbana offered enough time to sketch the outline of a plan, but it also allowed for too much time to think, for the buzz of nerves to build. Meditation no longer came as easily to Obi-Wan as it had before the war.

On Tatooine, it wasn’t until he’d found a renewed purpose in memorializing the men that he’d began finding peace.

“Rex, would you mind,” Obi-Wan probed, “telling me more about your brothers in the 501st? I’ve been hoping to learn more about the men who served with us who I didn’t get to know.”

That was how Obi-Wan learned about Kix and his propensity for pulling rank, about Hardcase and the tooka doll he kept hidden in his bunk, about Fives and the way he bailed out brothers from the drunk tank on Coruscant. That was how Obi-Wan learned about Jesse’s propensity for narrowly escaping death on multiple occasions. Until he didn’t.

“I thought Umbara would be the worst thing I ever lived through,” Rex said. “And then I almost killed Ahsoka. Then Jesse tried to kill me. Then,” but he trailed off.

“But you didn’t kill Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan reminded him. Reminded himself—there were others, maybe more than just him, Yoda and Ahsoka still out there. Still surviving.

“I tried to,” Rex said. “When the order came, I had no choice. I fought so hard to reject what it was telling me was true, and I could only get out one word to warn her. She did all the work after that. I tried to kill her longer than I tried to warn her,” he lamented. “And Obi-Wan,” he said, turning to face Obi-Wan with a renewed conviction, “there’s no way you’re alive right now if Cody didn’t fight, too. I can’t believe any chip is strong enough to make that stubborn bastard kill you.”

Obi-Wan wanted so desperately to believe it. Not that it would change his determination to bring Cody home or his feelings for the man — only that it would mean Cody had tasted some freedom, hadn’t been wholly subsumed to programming outside his control, a passenger to his own life for two years.

“It doesn’t matter,” Obi-Wan said. “He could have looked me in the eye with a blaster in his hand and I would have known it wasn’t him.”

Rex hummed, “Well, all I’m saying is, you survived and the only thing that makes sense is he fought hard enough to let you get away. With the right rifle, Cody would never miss that shot if he wanted to make it.”

Obi-Wan smiled despite himself. Expert, adept, unerring Cody. Trapped now inside a body that was at once his, but not his own. Inflicting violence with his own hand but not by his own will.

“What was it like, being controlled by the chip?” It was another answer Obi-Wan didn’t want to hear, but had to know.

The zeal Rex had been channeling in Cody’s defense faltered at the question.

He shifted his gaze back out into space before beginning, “It’s like you were flying into battle, you knew exactly where you’re going and why. And then,” he hit his hand with his fist, “your jetpack fails. And you’re in free-fall, certain death coming at you, but it never comes. You just keep falling, every moment worse than the last and as much as you struggle, trying to get power back, you can’t do anything. Except hope it all ends soon. But you can’t even do that.”

Obi-Wan felt like a black hole was collapsing in on itself inside him.

---

Coming out of hyperspace above Yerbana, it was clear Rex and his sources were right: the Empire was deploying its assets for an assault on the planet. Two cruisers were already in place above the atmosphere, but plenty of commercial and private ships continued to jet to and from the surface, allowing Rex to maneuver his small ship into the crowd and disappear into the wilds beyond what was left of the city. They would come back for the ship another time, if everything went to plan.

As they hiked into the city, the sun sank below the horizon and a large star destroyer entered the atmosphere above the spaceport.

“That might be him,” Rex said, adjusting the strap on his rifle. “Come on, let’s get into position.”

Scattered debris from collapsed facades and streets that smelled of trash and wastewater could not hide that this was once a vibrant city. The density of buildings suggested a place where people once congregated, where children may have played together and filled the air with high-pitched laughter. This night, the windows were dark, the doors were closed, and the people about were not there to make merry.

An abandoned tenement offered Obi-Wan and Rex an opportunity to get to the rooftops. With the high ground, they skirted their way towards the staging area where the Imperial troop transports were arriving. Perched with a view of the landing zone, the aggressiveness of the Empire’s efforts to subdue populations was evident. Dozens of platoons of stormtroopers were forming and fanning out on different routes into the city.

“There they are,” Rex announced as a small ship floated to the ground, wings protectively folding up around it. “Intel says Cody should be easy to spot, in all black armor with a red shoulder piece.”

They watched and waited in silence as the ramp on the ship lowered, an eerie glow throwing ghostly shadows out onto the ground.

Obi-Wan had heard the stories about Vader. It hadn’t prepared him for seeing the imposing figure in black stride down the ramp, cape whipping behind him and a familiar creep of cold seeping into everything the Force touched. Even surrounded by molten rock, Anakin’s anger had kept the heat at bay.

Vader was a different being, but the way he carried himself was still so much like Anakin, so much like his brother, and Obi-Wan couldn’t look away. Maybe this time he could find the right words, the right—

“Hey,” Rex elbowed him. “We’ll never get him back with just the two of us.” He motioned back towards the ship with his head. “Let’s stick to one impossible rescue for today.”

Rex was right, of course. They would need an army to take on Vader if the stories were anything to go by. And if Obi-Wan trusted anyone to raise and lead an army, it was the man they had come to rescue.

Behind Vader, as the intel had supplied, two figures in black armor and rifles trailed him in lock-step. What the intel got wrong was the red pauldrons — both troopers bore one. Obi-Wan and Rex shared a look and Rex just lifted a shoulder.

“You didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you?”

Where Obi-Wan could see the vestiges of Anakin in the way Vader walked, clenched fists at his sides, he was distressed not to be able to tell the two purge troopers apart. There had been a time when Obi-Wan could scan the 212th on the battlefield from a descending LAAT and immediately identify Cody from his movements alone, the way he dashed from one squad leader to the next, the way he held a weapon. Obi-Wan had, at one time, known him so intimately and now Cody was a hundred meters away and invisible.

Vader paused at the edge of the staging area, inspecting the street where Obi-Wan and Rex were observing from above. Obi-Wan wiped his mind clear of any stray thoughts, they could not risk alerting Vader to their presence at the moment. As much as they hoped to be taking the Empire by surprise on Yerbana, Obi-Wan and Rexwere still chasing the bait set by Vader and were severely outnumbered.

As the purge troopers approached him, Vader turned on his heel and they snapped to attention. He pointed towards an adjacent section of the city behind where Obi-Wan and Rex had hunkered down on the rooftop. They couldn’t hear his orders, but the two troopers nodded in sync and began marching in that direction. Beside him, Rex let out a relieved sigh. Below him, Obi-Wan heard the singular zzhhppt of a lightsaber turning on. His breath caught seeing the red blade in Vader’s hand.

“Obi-Wan!” Rex hissed, tugging him back to the mission and in the direction the purge troopers had marched. Obi-Wan wavered for a moment, then followed. He could only save one man tonight, and it would be Cody.

In the distance, as they traversed the skyline in pursuit of the troopers, Obi-Wan heard the unmistakable sounds of a lightsaber slicing through the air followed by the crashing of metal and debris as Vader cut a path of destruction.

---

Obi-Wan and Rex tailed the purge troopers from overhead, climbing or hopping across rooftops, the noise blending easily into the grinding din of the patrolling ships, the TIEs whizzing by, and the transports dropping off more stormtroopers.

At each home or store along the street, one man in black would kick down the door while the other raced in, rifle up. After a few minutes they would exit and take their scare tactics to the next door. They traded roles for two blocks until they disappeared into one house for a longer stint than usual.

“They’re probably looking for dissidents,” Rex explained. “There’s been some resistance to the Empire here.”

This time, the troopers didn’t come out alone. They had bullied a family of Twi’leks, two parents and two children, out of the home at gunpoint. The travesty would have torn at Obi-Wan’s heart under any circumstances, but to know one of the goons was Cody, terrorizing against his will, ripped deeper.

One of the troopers used the muzzle of his rifle to force the Twi’leks onto their knees while the other prowled in front of them.

“I’m going to end this,” Obi-Wan said, moving towards the side of the building before Rex could stop him.

“Obi-Wan, what about the plan!” Rex called.

“I’m improvising,” Obi-Wan replied, “you stay here,” and then dropped onto an emergency escape gantry above an alley.

If he could get close enough now and overpower one of the troopers, Rex could still take out the other from the roof like they had designed.

The movement must have caught the attention of the executioner, because he swung his rifle up and pointed it directly at Obi-Wan. Seeing the first trooper move, the second one followed with his rifle an instant later and immediately shot at Obi-Wan’s position — a mark of poor training that suggested a new Imperial recruit was under the armor.

Obi-Wan ducked the blaster fire and leaped off the back of the gantry into the alley below, aiming for a spot behind two dumpsters. Above him, he saw Rex dashing to resight himself for a better shot. They could make this work.

In the shuffle, Obi-Wan had lost track of which trooper had been the one who fired but both were closing in on where he had taken cover in the dead end of the alley. It was risky given Vader’s proximity, but Obi-Wan opened himself up to the Force.

His heart lurched.

Not at the depth of cold oozing into the Force but at the absence of Cody. Or what Obi-Wan would have expected to feel in the Force if Cody were there. He felt the two purge troopers closing on him, a sharp malevolence from one and a simmering loathing from the other. Obi-Wan hoped it was just the brainwashing at work, that one of these troopers was actually Cody hidden behind a helmet and chip.

“Show yourself,” a thin voice came through a vocoder.

Obi-Wan tugged the hood of his robes over his head and took a deep breath to steel himself, his muscle memory for showdowns like this felt weak after two years of relative solitude on Tatooine. He tested the waters by inching one hand out from the safety of the dumpsters while he used the other to grip the hilt of his lightsaber. No one shot at his hand, which seemed like a good sign.

“Show more of yourself,” the same voice demanded.

“Don’t shoot,” Obi-Wan warned. “I’m more valuable alive.”

“We’ll see about that,” he chirped, “prove it.”

The rest of Obi-Wan’s body followed his hand into the open until he was standing in front of the two faceless purge troopers, his own hood hopefully obscuring his own identity. He was counting on the element of surprise.

In one swift motion, Obi-Wan brushed off his hood and lit his lightsaber. Instantly, the troopers raised their rifles — except the hands of the trooper to Obi-Wan’s left jerked like he briefly hit an invisible barrier.

“Jedi!” the trooper on his right yelled.

But Obi-Wan was already lunging for the man on the left, lightsaber discarded in favor of disarming the man without harming him. As he tackled the man, he heard a double-tap of stunner shots from above drop the second trooper with a thud.

Under him, the purge trooper thrashed, pulling at where Obi-Wan’s arms were pinning his shoulders and kicking at where he sat on his legs. Adrenaline fueled Obi-Wan’s fight, but he tapped the Force to assist with the restraints even though he knew he’d need to pull even harder from the Force later. But Obi-Wan needed to know he hadn’t come all this way only to lose everything again, lose all hope again.

He pulled off the purge trooper’s helmet with practiced ease, his stomach roiling with doubt and desire all at once.

Obi-Wan collapsed into Cody with joyous relief. He had never been so happy to see someone so determined to kill him. But it was Cody and all that mattered was that he was alive and right there. Obi-Wan wanted to hold him close, soothe him, tell him it was going to be over soon, but he couldn’t promise any of that if he didn’t keep the plan moving.

He grabbed Cody by the top of his chest plate and rolled them over, so Cody was on top of him. It gave the man a much better angle at Obi-Wan’s throat, but Rex was again quick on the trigger and Cody was limp on top of him almost as soon as Obi-Wan heard the blaster shots.

---

“I’ll admit, it looks good,” Rex said, fully dressed and checking himself out in the purge trooper armor they had procured from Cody’s partner. “I wouldn’t want to go up against any clankers in it, though.”

Obi-Wan tuned out the rest of Rex’s musings, wading deeper into meditation. The alley was only five blocks from the Imperial staging area with plenty of ships to steal, but that was five blocks they had to evade suspicion — and keep Vader unaware of their presence.

If Obi-Wan could tap into Cody’s mind and get his help, their odds of survival went up. But Obi-Wan had never prodded at Cody’s brain before — for many reasons, not the least of which was that he doubted he’d be able to get in — and he felt indecent doing it now without Cody’s consent. With the chip, Obi-Wan suspected Cody’s mind would be more susceptible to influence.

Obi-Wan reached in, wondering if he would be able to feel the chip, if he could find Cody locked away inside and beg forgiveness. Instead, he lost focus and his consciousness was yanked towards a deep chasm. Obi-Wan regained a footing and a tug pulled him back to the safer regions of Cody’s mind muted by the chip.

Cody blinked to awareness but the aftereffects of the stun impaired his alertness. He eyed Rex the purge trooper warily and then shifted his glare to Obi-Wan, who was still hovering inside his mind, desperately searching for a glimmer of hope.

“Traitor,” Cody said, unsteadily.

“Obi-Wan,” Rex warned.

“It will work,” he replied. He reached in again, feeling around for the steady peace of Cody.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody gasped, eyes pleading. Obi-Wan jumped at hearing his name on Cody’s tongue like they were back on the Negotiator sharing everything and each other.

The shock snapped Obi-Wan’s concentration. The warmth in Cody’s eyes flipped off and he darted for Obi-Wan while growling, “Good soldiers—”

Stunner blasts cut him off and laid him out again.

“We need to try a different tactic,” Rex said, rifle still pointed at Cody’s still form.

Obi-Wan deflated. For a second, he and Cody had been together again.

But they would need more than a second to get to a ship and off the planet. For now, Obi-Wan would have to sacrifice neutralizing the chip, he would have to focus on controlling it.

“I can do it,” he insisted. “I’ll just have to trick the programmed part of him instead.”

It felt like giving up, like a betrayal, but this was the only way.

“I’ll carry him closer to the spaceport, that way it won’t have to last as long,” Rex said. “We shouldn’t run into anybody for a couple blocks and if anyone asks, I’ll say you stunned him.”

If they got closer to the ships, Obi-Wan wouldn’t have to secure the chip’s acquiescence for quite so long. Given that he wasn’t sure how long he could hold onto control, the shorter amount of time they needed the chip’s cooperation, the better.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan said, and fastened the black helmet back onto Cody’s head. “Might as well put the binders on me now.”

With Cody over Rex’s shoulder and Obi-Wan parading as his prisoner, they were able to get within two blocks of where Vader’s ship had landed. While the distance itself was short, the swarm of Imperial troop activity around the spaceport made the trip much more precarious. The prospect of walking through their base of operations with a dissident and an unconscious purge trooper without drawing too much radio chatter or Vader’s attention was daunting.

Before the stunner blast lost its limited duration, Rex ushered them to take refuge in an abandoned storefront for Obi-Wan’s next attempt.

“Now the fun part,” Rex said, kneeling to sit Cody on the ground. “Playing Imp for an audience of a thousand rakeweeds.” He took Cody’s helmet off so they could watch for him to wake.

This time, Cody came to grimacing, sending Obi-Wan a pang of sympathy pain. Waking from one stunner blast usually left someone with at least half an hour of pins pricking every inch of their skin, two often added muscle spasms, three could cause days of numbness and, well, Obi-Wan hoped they wouldn’t have to get many more beyond that.

But Obi-Wan couldn’t dwell on the possibilities, he closed his eyes and inhaled to clear his mind and let the worry go. The Force glowed softly around him. Obi-Wan drew on its strength and reached out to the chip inside Cody.

Obi-Wan focused on his breathing, in and out, and the link he needed to make if they were all going to get off this planet together and alive. With little warning, the connection to the chip was pushed in his reach. Take it, he heard Cody say, maybe an echo from the physical world or maybe inside his meditation.

He latched onto it, holding tighter as it tried to slip away, and opened his eyes. Cody stared back blankly. Obi-Wan had taken control. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat and said to Cody, “I’m your prisoner and you’re escorting me to Lord Vader’s ship.”

“You’re my prisoner and I’m escorting you to Lord Vader’s ship,” Cody repeated. He put his helmet on and started to stand.

Rex lowered the blaster he’d had at the ready and ejected a cartridge from the second rifle before handing it to Cody.

“I guess it’s showtime, sirs,” Rex said.

---

Under the draping hood of his robes, Obi-Wan concentrated wholly on maintaining a tight grip on the edge of the chip in Cody’s mind. So far, it had obliged his request to march him towards the ship, shackled between Cody and Rex, but he could feel it squirming, sapping his energy as he fought for command.

As they drew near the ramp to Vader’s ship, the two purge troopers drew plenty of nods and salutes, but no outsized attention. Besides Obi-Wan’s precarious handle on the mind trick, the most impending impediment were the two stormtroopers posted at the entrance to Vader’s ship. There was no way Obi-Wan could both maintain his hold on Cody and use the trick on them.

“Rex, you’ll have to do the talking,” Obi-Wan muttered as they approached the ramp.

It almost sounded like Rex chortled in agreement.

The stormtroopers straightened to attention when confronted by the purge troopers. “Sirs,” a woman’s voice greeted them. “Is Lord Vader departing?”

“No,” Rex said, and affected a brusque edge to his voice, “We’re securing the prisoner on the destroyer. Lord Vader and the troopers will remain here to clear the city.”

The chip bucked at Obi-Wan and he strained to subdue it. Obi-Wan’s heart was pounding at the effort. He was running out of endurance, they were running out of time.

“Of course, commander,” the woman said, then motioned at Obi-Wan. “Weren’t we looking for Twi’lek dissidents, sir?”

Rex yanked at Obi-Wan’s arm, ”Got something better. Come on,” he said to Cody, “let’s get him ready for Lord Vader.”

Rex started up the ramp and Obi-Wan nudged at the connection with Cody to follow. He didn’t. Not immediately. Obi-Wan poked at the chip again, and then Cody started. The two stormtroopers looked at each other, but didn’t say anything.

---

In the cockpit, Rex was a flurry of movement compared to the tranquility Obi-Wan needed to embody the same in Cody. Only a few more minutes. Then they were safe. Then Cody was free.

He felt the shuttle shudder as it fired up to lift-off. Please, just a little longer, please, Obi-Wan pled into the connection, where it felt like he was hanging off a ledge by a finger, about to fall. He took a breath and gained back a handhold, something lifting him up, easing his effort to sustain control. He placed his hands on Cody’s shoulders to steady himself.

As the planet receded below the shuttle, Obi-Wan drew on the hope that it was almost over. Just a jump to hyperspace, a shuffle of ships, an impossibly unpleasant second jump, plus a trip to medbay and that was it. After they made it out of Yerbana’s atmosphere, at least the deadly parts were done. There were, Obi-Wan had imagined, still many hard things ahead of them long after the chip was removed.

“Dagger two,” the ship’s comm crackled to life. “What’s your current trajectory?”

Rex swore. Already dangling, Obi-Wan lost the last touch of connection he had on Cody’s mind. He saw the fire return to his amber eyes and felt Cody brace for action beneath his hands.

“The cruisers in orbit, sir,” Rex offered into the comm in his gruff Cody impersonation.

“On whose authority?” the voice on the radio demanded.

Cody sprang forward, and Obi-Wan’s heart stopped, he had no energy left to fight the chip or the man physically or mentally. But Cody reached past Obi-Wan and hit the comm.

“CC-2224, by orders of Lord Vader,” he barked. “Imperial code 726.”

Rex and Obi-Wan didn’t breathe. Cody squeezed either side of his head with his palms.

“Very well, CC-2224, proceed to the Dauntless, hangar three,” the radio replied.

Cody turned to Rex. “Stun me,” he croaked. Rex fumbled for the rifle. “Quickly!”

---

By the chrono in the medbay, it had only been a few hours since they had taken off from Yerbana and boarded Bail’s ship. By Obi-Wan’s count, he had been waiting years for Cody to come back.

Despite the exhaustion of their escape and the crash of adrenaline, Obi-Wan did not sleep. While Rex had assured him he’d never seen a chip removal fail, he did say it could take some hours for patients to wake after this surgery. So Obi-Wan assumed a familiar position, watching over Cody in the medbay, waiting for him to recover.

Even asleep, Obi-Wan could feel the change in Cody in the Force once the surgery was over. With the chip, his presence had been muted and dull. Without it, the vibrance that Obi-Wan so loved and had come to depend on was returning.

Obi-Wan sensed Cody was waking by the growing intensity of his Force presence, which was tinged with distraught. Cody didn’t move or open his eyes, but his breathing became more rapid. Maybe he was trying to assess where he was, Obi-Wan thought. Maybe he didn’t remember what had happened.

“Cody,” Obi-Wan cooed. Cody flinched but kept his eyes shut. “It’s okay, you’re safe,” he said, flattening a hand over Cody’s heart. “Do you remember last night in the alley?”

Cody’s jaw clenched several times and he slowly opened his eyes with a long exhale. When his eyes met Obi-Wan’s, they bore a wealth of despair.

“Yes, Obi-Wan, I remember,” he murmured. “I remember everything.” His voice carried the weight of nearly two years as the tip of the Empire’s spear. “Everything.”

Obi-Wan moved his hand to cup Cody’s face. “I’m sorry, love, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, none of it’s your fault.”

Obi-Wan didn’t agree with Cody’s assessment of the situation, but he’d rather relish the moment than argue the point. He chose instead to focus on the warmth of Cody’s skin against his and the affection reflected in his eyes, something Obi-Wan never dared dream he would have again.

“You’re here and you’re free, that’s what matters right now.”

Cody pushed himself up and sat up on the medbay bed so he was facing Obi-Wan. The affection in his eyes gave way to a trepidation Obi-Wan rarely saw.

“Obi-Wan,” he started. “Will you forgive me? When you’ve learned everything I’ve done?”

Obi-Wan cradled Cody’s head between his hands. “There’s nothing to forgive, Cody, you haven’t done anything but suffer at the hands of the Empire,” Obi-Wan said. And he couldn’t help but think because of me.

Cody didn’t look placated. Obi-Wan realized Cody’s pain might take as long to heal as Obi-Wan’s own scars. They would forgive each other over and over again, but not themselves. It would be a long and dusty road to absolution, but they would have each other.

He wasn’t going to convince Cody with his words, so Obi-Wan would use his actions. He pulled Cody’s face towards his own, slow enough so Cody could demure if he chose to, until their lips reunited.

As starved for Cody as he was, Obi-Wan started gently, relearning the rhythm of how their bodies move in harmony. A burn that had been absent for years soared through Obi-Wan. He hadn’t felt this at peace since before Utapau. Obi-Wan pulled back just enough so his forehead still pressed into Cody’s, but so he had the room to say, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Obi-Wan,” Cody breathed back, then reclaimed Obi-Wan for a kiss.

Whatever the Empire wrought, they would face it together.