Sitting up sharply in bed, Obi-Wan stared blankly at the wall for several seconds before throwing the covers of himself and sliding his feet into his slippers, hurrying out of his temporary bedroom by touch alone.

In the darkness, he fumbled for his robe on the hook by the doorway, throwing it on as he made his way through the halls.

On the way, an anxious Anakin appeared from his temporary room, looking just as sleep disheveled as Obi-Wan felt, the blond looking at him with wide eyes as he scratched nervously at his bare stomach.

The other had clearly not thought to throw on a robe like Obi-Wan had but had at least put on slippers and together, the two made their way to the Halls of healing, the insistent tugging of the Force pulling them along.

The Halls, due to the likelihood of injuries being high during the initial construction, had been one of the first places on the schedule to be built of the temple, along with temporary shelters, the creche, kitchens and of course the archives.

The temporary shelters, creche and halls had been the highest priority though and still bore signs of a rush job that Obi-Wan knew that would be worked on better now that things were settling.

But that was not why he and Anakin were in the Halls.

Because they could feel them, a tugging in their very souls and likely something the kaminoans had thought of when they cloned the Jedi.

The children were ready.

The clones of him and Anakin.

And Yoda, as when they arrived, the old man was already there, leaning on his cane as he stared into the Halls with an unfamiliar senior healer at his side and Master Che. When Anakin and he arrived, all three gave them looks of realization before Che started barking more orders. “All three of yours in the same night?” She finally turned back to them, cursing slightly. “This wasn’t going to be easy just with one of you.” She complained, huffing loudly before sighing and gesturing to her side for the unfamiliar healer at her side, causing the yellow zabrak to step forward.

“I’m healer Zora, they and them,” The zabrak smiled at them before lifting a pad to show them the readouts of the clones pods. “I’ve been in charge of the tubes for a while now, researching them and ensuring things proceed as they should. They’re all healthy,” They reassured at Anakin’s face turning slightly alarmed. “We just don’t… we’re not certain what to expect, with the children all being Force sensitive. Cloned Force sensitive are… difficult.” They finished with.

Now that, was an understatement if Obi-Wan knew something.

Scientists, both scrupulous and unscrupulous, had for decades tried to figure out Force sensitivity, simply cloning a Force sensitive didn’t always track and some of the experiments he knew had happened had actually leveled entire research facilities.

Maybe that’s why the Force has them there, maybe the clones know them in some way. Because as the tubes get drained, the babies in them simply squirm and wiggle, cry out with strong lungs that makes Obi-Wan’s breath hitch in return, Anakin shift forward and Yoda straighten from where he’s leaning on his cane.

Carefully, each of the bright little lights are placed into the arm of a waiting padawan healer, carefully cleaned and swaddled and when there aren’t enough, Obi-Wan steps forward and takes one of the babies that has been made of him, blinking down at eyes as green as his own.

“…Hello there, welcome to the galaxy little one.” He whispered, smiling slightly as the child squirmed in his arms.

For a moment, he couldn’t help but wonder how he’d feel if this baby had darker skin and green eyes, for a moment he wondered how Cody would have felt to be here with him.

Then he put that thought aside, grateful his beard hid the evidence of his blush as he moved to hand the child over to healer Zora for a weighing and measuring, the baby whimpering at the loss of Obi-Wan’s body warmth.