Distantpain

Oh I have SERIOUSLY over-estimated my reading skills lately, haha: It’s taken me THIS long to refamiliarize myself with DistantPain! But, augh, it’s gotten EVEN BETTER!! Jango is back, and he’s in trouble with Obi! Obi-Wan is still terrifying, and I LOVE the way that Hondo and his allies respect him with well-placed fear! I can’t wait to see if they have further stories to tell! And oh do I LONG for Obi to have a heart-wrenching heart-to-heart with Ahsoka, maybe some flashbacks? Augh, so good!

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“If you think you’re special child, then you’ve overestimated how my thoughts work and what kind of past I have,” Obi-Wan stated casually as he continued slowly grooming Cotton’s feathers, smirking wryly at the startled squeak behind him along with the glowering emotions of hurt anger in the Force. “I react the same to every underage padawan I see in this war. You’re not unique in that regard.” He simply continued.

As long as he didn’t look at the togruta, he didn’t have to come face to face with her youth and his own traumas.

There was a rustle behind him, a shift and then the soft steps of a predator.

Obi-Wan was very familiar with how all carnivore species moved, not that many seemed to realize that people like zabraks and togrutas moved differently compared to for example twi’leks as herbivores or even humans as omnivores.

Ahsoka Tano had her predator steps, honed as most carnivore Jedi were, especially now in these battles.

“So you don’t… don’t hate me?” She questioned uncertainly from behind.

Letting out a small hum as he tugged loose a damaged feather, gently rubbing the area with a soothing coo to Cotton as she thumped her tail on the ground, Obi-Wan shook his head. “I have no particular emotions towards you padawan Tano. If anything, they lean towards positive as you’re quite skilled already and show the ability to adapt and learn. I don’t hold the master against the padawan.” He stated a tad more dryly.

Anakin Skywalker was many things, but at least he was a good master, his training of Ahsoka Tano wasn’t in question at all. Just his personal character.

Honestly, Obi-Wan never intended for Tano to feel slighted by him and maybe he felt a tad guilty about that but he was honest when he said that she was not the padawan he reacted to this way. His ptsd from Melida/Daan had an ugly way of showing itself and there was a very good reason he did not have a padawan.

Hell, the Halls had even strictly forbidden the council to send him one, citing his ptsd, so they couldn’t pull a Skywalker on Obi-Wan at least.

Tano shuffled a bit behind him, letting out a surprised noise when Cotton turned her head and started grooming Obi-Wan’s hair.

Used to it, Obi-Wan simply allowed the dragon to tug his hair into a mess as it was moved out of his mohawk and moved to the mane around his friend’s neck instead, pulling out the grooming brush to start working the dirt out and the oil in, keeping the fur a gleaming healthy shine. “…You really don’t like Sky-Master Anakin, do you.” She stated more than asked, uncertain but clearly she had seen enough to make some guesses.

Pausing, Cotton’s beady eyes on him, Obi-Wan mulled over that before shrugging. “Its not quite that easy. I consider him a hypocrite of the worst sort, who, by the friendship to the Chancellor, is often given more leeway than many other Jedi are ever allowed. His marriage to Senator Amidala also puts the entire Order and the Senator herself in a very delicate position, for when it is found out, things will go wrong.” He pursed his lips tightly.

There was also the Tuskens.

Oh, Obi-Wan wasn’t stupid.

He wasn’t one of the temple’s shadows but he was the only one to encounter a Sith in a millennium. When he had gone down for emergency shuttle repairs on Tatooine, he hadn’t expected what he had found…

But he had recognized the Force signature, the bodies turning cold with saber marks and the coldness of the Force left behind. The flashes of rage and pain leaving behind an imprint of coldness in the desert.

If it hadn’t been for the war breaking out only days later, Obi-Wan would have made a lot more fuss of it.

A genocide of an entire tribe.

He pursed his lips at the memory before sighing and shaking his head. “He’ll get us all in trouble, sooner or later. All we can do is limit the fallout of his selfish decisions.” Obi-Wan stated a tad bitterly, rubbing Cotton’s muzzle when the dragon let out a low rumbling noise and pressed her face into his shoulder, Tano behind him shifting in nervous agitation and an undercurrent of desire to defend her Master.

So, just a suggestion, but I feel like Hondo should show up in Distant pain. Just for fun lol. Because it feels like he and this Obi-Wan would have history.

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If there was one thing Anakin hated dealing with, it was pirates.

In particular he hated dealing with Hondo Ohnaka.

But the man had information, Seperatist information that he was willing to give them… for a price of course and this time he had bounty hunters with him. It had taken a lot for Anakin not to go for Bane’s face when the duro had come stalking in after the jovial pirate, a pick in his mouth and his eyes barely glancing at them from under the stupid hat he had.

They were going nowhere fast, Hondo laughing as he waved his drink about, telling them about his ‘dear old mother’ and the crew and the bounty hunters leaned in the back with the troopers behind Qui-Gon and Anakin tense and keeping an eye on them in return.

Honestly, at this point, Anakin almost wanted to try jumping Hondo just to get him to shut the kark up as he set of an obnoxious laugh.

A laugh that cut of abruptly as Kenobi suddenly stepped in, Anakin’s lips twisting in discomfort at the sight of the redhead even as he felt Rex behind him shine a bit with relief. His men liked Kenobi way too much.

Then that feeling was washed away by the fear, alert and respect suddenly oozing of the other group, all of them suddenly at attention as Kenobi tucked his thumbs into his belt as he had a want for, brow raised as he peered at Ohnaka. “I wasn’t aware you were here Hondo.” He drawled.

Wait… what?

Anakin blinked, glancing quickly at Qui-Gon, to find his old master at an equal loss.

“Obi-Wan! Old friend, I was not aware you were here either!” Hondo laughed but he was no longer slouched in his seat but sitting up, his eyes on Kenobi, watching as he settled down on one of the chairs as if he was invited. “If I had known, I would have brought more guns!” He laughed but even Anakin could hear the shakiness.

Obi-Wan reached out and took Hondo’s drink right of the table, sitting back in his chair with a slouch as he sipped it. And Hondo said nothing, just grabbed a bottle instead and drank directly from it.

No, chugged it actually, eyes watching Kenobi still.

“Bane. Bossk. Sing. Embo.” Kenobi greeted in an easy but short tone, glancing at each in turn. He even received a form for greeting from each, Embo in particular as the kyuzo hunter reached his right hand up to his heart and bowed his head a tad.

A respectful greeting of all things.

What the kark.

Anakin wanted to demand answers but he knew that Kenobi was just as likely to punch him in the face if he tried that.

“You working for the separatists now?” Kenobi questioned, watching Ohnaka.

“No, no. Profits my friend! I have information on the CIS!” Hondo waved the bottle, laughing again. “A trade you see” He grinned at him with those stained teeth of his.

A small ‘uhu’ escaped Kenobi before he glanced at Qui-Gon. “We authorized for that?” He raised his brow.

“Within limits, yes.” Qui-Gon nodded, seemingly relinquishing the negotiation to Obi-Wan. Seeing as Hondo seemed to be both piss afraid of Obi-Wan and also respected him, that might be a good idea but kark did it burn Anakin.

Looking back to the pirate, Kenobi pointedly raised his brows at him. “Ah, see, old Hondo needs free passage. I have cargo to deliver but it requires me to pass through the Perlemian trade route. I want guarantees we won’t be stopped, simple as that.” Hondo beamed toothily, finally seeming at ease.

Honestly, that… wasn’t as bad as Anakin feared. He had been concerned over the amount of value Hondo potentially wanted for his information, hell, the guarantee that he could slip through a trade route without being stopped wasn’t so bad.

He wanted to sell something, clearly, but it was also illegal, therefore being stopped would be an issue. ‘Could be worse trades…’ He mused tiredly.

Obi-Wan however hummed, low and steady, eyes on the pirate as he drank slowly, clearly thinking. “…And is any of this cargo… live?” He questioned, his voice warping on the last word as his eyes narrowed a silver, ice sliding along the spine of everyone in the tent as the Force suddenly pressed down on them.

Instantly, Ohnaka set his bottle down while lifting his other hand, eyes never moving from the Jedi in front of him even as Anakin tensed up, his hand going towards his saber. “Hondo does not trade in live bodies, my friend, foolish youth taught me better, even my dear mother would agree,” He chortled before turning serious, much to the shock of the rest. “I swear, Master Kenobi, none of it is live. Not animal and not sentient.”

Tapping his finger lightly on the table, still staring at Ohnaka, Obi-Wan finally inclined his head.

It felt like the pirate finally relaxed too, a jovial smile back on his face as he picked his alcohol back up. “Come now friend, such tension between allies!” He laughed bawdily, yet he was still watching the redhead.

Hell, the bounty hunters were still too.

Paranoid bunch they were, had been keeping an eye on all of them, the Jedi in particular of course but they registered everyone as a threat.

Now they weren’t looking away from Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The biggest threat in their eyes.

“… My friend, you taught my old captain a good long lesson, I will never forget it.” Hondo stated suddenly and Kenobi smirked a tad before nodding, standing and picking up one of the unopened bottles the pirate had brought.

He saluted the pirate slightly then made his way out. “Master Jinn and Knight Skywalker will handle the rest, its a reasonable request after all for your information.” He drawled, disappearing out.

Hondo instantly chugged from his bottle then breathed out heavily, looking at the surprised faces of the two Jedi, his lips quirking a tad. “Anyone stupid enough to cross Kenobi, deserves their fate,” The pirate laughed, a tad shakily. “If they know his reputation that is. I know it, Ohnaka won’t cross him.”  

“…His reputation?” Qui-Gon tilted his head uncertainly.

“Jedi are feared because of their powers,” Bane croaked from the back, eyes on the tent flaps still. “Kenobi is feared in the underworld… because he doesn’t just have power… he’s feared because he can’t be stopped and if you’re his target… it be better to just give up.”

‘…What the hell is Kenobi.’ Anakin couldn’t help but wonder.

Distantpain!! This is the Obi I need in my life. And I need to see him keep being a badass Jedi calling people out and deserving of all the clone love

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Stepping into camp, Obi-Wan watched the faint dot of Slave 1 making its way into the atmosphere, calmly stroking Cotton’s head as he pursed his lips thoughtfully, the breeze ruffling his hair and the trees around the camp creaking almost ominously.

Talking with Jango had been… interesting.

Draining if Obi-Wan was honest, but hopefully his play at the galaxy’s fate would work.

The seeds were now sown and all Obi-Wan would have to do was to wait. Jango Fett was the child of farmers and the child of a Mand’alor, vengeance and rage had been sown into him by the Kyr’stad with the help of the Jedi, his farmer parents had nurtured his kindness that had almost died and Jaster Mereel had nurtured his honor and his battle prowess.

Life had tempered everything else.

All Obi-Wan would have to do now was wait for that mix to come to a conclusion now that he had watered those withered galek sprouts that would become mighty trees.

‘…Ugh, when did I become poetic?’ Obi-Wan grimaced a tad and continued moving into camp, waving as a few troopers stopped to greet him. They had obviously noticed him leaving but respected him enough to not follow him.

It was something he was grateful for if he was actually honest once in a while, having worked with too many assholes and imbeciles throughout his years.

Not all Jedi understood it when the need for secrecy was great and he certainly had no trust in Jinn or Skywalker to be secretive. Hell, if Jango Fett had been known to them, Jinn at least would flap his mouth at the rest of the council while Skywalker…

‘Its like having a damn mole in the temple, always opening his mouth to the Chancellor, as if he is required to know the internal workings of our temple.’ Obi-Wan’s lips twisted with disgust, glancing to where Skywalker and Tano were now laying in the grass, the older laughing at his padawan.

Obi-Wan froze a tad, watching as he gently patted Tano on the head, the girl grinning brightly back at him while flapping her hands playfully.

‘…Did I ever smile like that at Jinn?’ The redhead couldn’t help but wonder as Cotton chittered softly at him, rubbing her cheek to his, recognizing her human’s mood even as his face remain impassive.

He couldn’t remember being that free and happy looking around Jinn, not really.

There was always something holding him back, even as he played jokes and laughed at his master.

Always this aura of never being enough.

No, he didn’t think he had ever been that comfortable with Jinn, not like how Tano was with her master clearly. It almost made him envious.

Almost.

Turning on his heel, Obi-Wan made his way to the mess tent instead of towards his own tent.

He needed something to do and the troopers in the kitchen were always happy for a pair of extra hands, it would serve as moving meditation. And the aura of the troopers around him always served to relax Obi-Wan.

He knew that Dogma and Zuru would be informed of where he was, so no need to tell them.

They would show up, likely with a cup of tea for him and their own hands to help the kitchen. ‘And some wonder why I like the vode so much… hardworking, loyal and warm in the Force, how can I be anything but happy to see them in return, when you always know what they want from you… and won’t abuse your trust.’

Pushing the tent flap out of the way, Obi-Wan let a small smile cross his lips as Wooley from 212th called out to him in greeting, the 212th apparently on kitchen duty for the day. ‘How can I do anything but trust these men, who deserve freedom.’ He lifted his own hand in greeting and padded between rows of tables and benches, heading into the kitchen to help.

The instant the soft conversation washed over him as he accepted a knife to start peeling vegetables and cutting them, Obi-Wan felt his shoulders lower as he started relaxing. There was nowhere he would like to be than right here, surrounded by vode.

‘After the war… maybe I could go with them, wherever they go?’ Obi-Wan mused as he got to work on a rutabega, smiling as he heard Zuru and Dogma scuttle in and get delegated to their own stations around him. ‘I’d like that…’

Distant pain- obiwan wishing for mand’alor fett and now he sees jango alive– is he going to help make mand’alor fett a reality? Or an alternative option for the clones? I love your writing!!

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There’s a karking Jedi at his table, in his ship and the Jedi is not dead.

No, the Jedi is quietly sipping shig at Slave 1’s table, watching Jango with predatory eyes, a damn dragon curled around his neck with his legs kicked out under the table lazily, ankle occasionally brushing against Jango’s own.

He’d call the other’s behavior almost arrogance if he didn’t know just how much power is in the other man’s shoulders and legs. Not to mention the karking dragon around his neck.

“Admittedly, when the Force told me to pay attention, I never expected this.” Kenobi drawled, settling the cup down on the table and yet cradling it still as he cocked his head.

Jango was grateful that Boba had obeyed and gone to the cockpit, though he was sure his son was still listening in. “What, thought me dead?” He sneered at the Jedi.

The man inclined his head. “You went to battle against Jedi, knowing what we could do. So yes, I saw Mace’s lightsaber pass through your neck,” His eyes flickered down to the prosthetic at Jango’s neck. “I can make a few guesses on your survival. I’m glad to see it actually.” He stated casually.

Mand’alor.

The other had called him mand’alor.

Jango suspected what the other wanted but… why?

Jedi were peace keepers and Jedi and Mandalorians had… strained relationships.

But here this Jedi was…

Kenobi placed his elbows on the table, watching him, eyes lidded before he snorted. “You know, I do wonder if you were simply desperate or coerced into working with Dooku, much less the Sith that leads him.” He drawled.

Jango’s lips tightened into a thin line but he said nothing, simply lifted his own cup to sip. How much did this Jedi know?

“Are you aware of my reputation?” Kenobi questioned, smirking when Jango brows simply furrowed, showing his confusion but also his wariness. “Ah, you don’t. Good, it means I covered my tracks well. See, in the temple, I’m known as the Council’s bloody hand,” Kenobi watched Jango closely, simply snorting when Jango reached for a blade at his hip. “I did undercover work, the most twisted and dangerous missions the Senate had. But I was good about keeping my identity hidden.” He drawled.

Well, that did… clarify a bit… Jango guessed.

Not simply a Jedi or even a Jedi shadow, but full on undercover work for the dirtiest of missions the Senate could send him on. Which Jango knew could be bad.

“It means I heard the whispers about why the clone army was really made for.” Kenobi continued, his voice now a tad bland, his face blank.

It took everything in Jango not to tense, even as he heard the telltale shift of the cockpit chair creak loudly, likely Boba getting up.

Kenobi didn’t react to the sound, simply stared at Jango. “…If anything of the morsels of rumors I heard were true, then I wonder what Jaster would say about this entire thing.” He stated darkly.

Jango slammed his cup down, metal twisting as hot shig coated his hands. He barely noticed the pain as he shot to his feet with a snarl, reaching for his blaster only to freeze when the dragon twisted up and hissed, fire in her open mouth even if it had not sent it at him.

Kenobi simply stared at him, his face still blank.

“…How dare you take his name in your mouth.” Jango snarled, keeping his hand away from his blaster as he trembled with rage.

Sitting back, pressing into the lounge couch, Kenobi snorted. “Considering I meet him and he tried to adopt me, I do actually. Seeing as he taught me the supercommando codex, I know what he taught you, what you were suppose to live by.” He drawled.

Jango felt unarmored, shaken, staring at this Jedi, who was claiming to have known Jaster. “…Lies.” He rasped.

Setting the cup down, Kenobi crossed his arms over his chest, a defensive reaction Jango knew in humanoid. He raised one copper brow then sighed, glancing at the ceiling of the Slave 1, as if praying for patience. “…Our language. Our leader. Our tribe. Education and armor. Self defense,” Kenobi stated in a steady voice, slowly returning cold eyes to Jango, reciting the resol’nare to Jango. “Beyond that, a code of honor, no grunt work, no killing for foot as the Kyr’stad, defend children and farmers with your life.” He continued in that steady, cold voice.

Jango could almost hear Jaster’s voice in his head, quietly reciting the same things, though more affectionately. Frozen as he was, the dragon seemed not to consider him a threat anymore as it settled down, pressing its snout into Kenobi’s neck.

“Honorable mercenaries, that’s what Jaster told me as he tried to adopt me after finding me on Coruscant, defending kids from the lower slums after I got lost from my creche group.” Kenobi shrugged, as if he wasn’t breaking Jango’s perception.

“I…” He licked his suddenly dry lips, wishing he still had shig.

Kenobi snorted and pushed his cup towards Jango, watching him drink desperately of the still luke warm liquid, his hands stinging from the burning water from earlier. “…I wonder what he thinks about you being involved on getting the younglings of the Jedi order killed.” Kenobi stated silkily.

Jango froze, eyes wide.

He knew he was older than the other, this Jedi upstart in his home but at that moment, he felt young and dirty, as if the other was calling on something Jango had refused to think about.

“I wonder what he’d feel about all those children,” Kenobi nodded towards the ramp they had come out. “Wearing your face, becoming soldiers without a choice for anything else, fodder in a meaningless war, killed in seconds, harmed… denied their legacies… gar eyayah.” Kenobi was staring at him with narrowed, burning eyes.

For the first time in years, Jango couldn’t help but wonder if that was how Jaster would have looked at him too.

For what he had done.

His breath was too loud in his own ears.

Kenobi opened his mouth again. “Where is your honor, Mand’alor?” His tone was as smooth as a blade and dripping with venomous intent.

Gar eyayah = your echos

Holy shit JANGO. Distant pain Jango’s alive!? I mean, not injured clearly by the tech he has at the throat but still, I’m so excited what comes now.

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Setting the crate down, Jango smiled at his son as Boba came rushing down the ramp Slave 1, quickly checking his father for injuries. Ever since that fateful day on Geonosis, Boba had become rather protective of his buir and had not wanted to leave him alone for any missions.

Not that it was a hardship, not really, Boba was skilled but going into a clone camp…

Well, he would have stuck out and Boba realized it.

Didn’t mean he hadn’t worried and that was why Jango allowed the pat down, despite just wanting to load up the crate and get out of the damn body glove. He had already ditched the armor but he hadn’t wanted to run around nude. “I’m fine Boba, no one noticed me.” He soothed quietly, inwardly keeping his uncertainties to himself.

He actually wasn’t sure about that, even as Boba grumbled slightly and glared up at him with that adorable pout he had yet to grow out of.

While leaving the camp, he had felt like someone was following him, felt eyes in the back of his neck but…

Well, he hadn’t seen anyone, every clone around him rushing around doing their own things and the Jedi were all busy.

Well, except for Kenobi, he hadn’t seen him at all except for in passing when the man had entered his tent with his dragon around his neck, two black and silver painted clones following him. A bit strange honestly, they were the only two with black and silver on them at all, all the others had blue and yellow or completely bare armor but Jango had no interest in Jedi.

“We should leave then, we got enough supplies to head for the next system.” Boba spoke up, huffing a tad before bending and picking up the crate before Jango could, a smile crossing his lips.

Opening his mouth, Jango was about to answer when the trees rustled at a breeze… but it was the voice that spoke up that stopped both Fett’s in their tracks.

“Well, hello there,” A posh drawl echoed and Jango turned on his heel, firing in the direction of the voice on auto pilot. The blast echoed into the trees but there was no cry of pain, only a low chuckle. “Ah, I can throw my voice, so you won’t be able to hit me by shooting at my voice.” The voice continued, suddenly on the opposite side of the camp.

Jango gritted his teeth at that, pushing his son behind his back. “Come out.” He snarled.

The same voice chuckled again. “Admittedly, when I noticed what I thought was a rat in camp, I had to wonder,” The voice continued, Jango grinding his teeth hard with his blaster aimed at the trees. He couldn’t lower his guard even if he couldn’t see the person. “But to find out the rat was Jango Fett himself… well, it seems like I just came across a golden opportunity, oh Mand’alor.”

Jango froze.

He hadn’t been called that in years, decades even.

Not even the few Haat Mando’ade survivors he could find to recruit as trainers for the clones had called him that, mostly on Jango’s own wishes.

Now a Coruscantian High accented voice called him it.

‘…It has to be Kenobi. He’s the only one it could be, that could have followed me without a trace and has that kind of accent.’ Jango was sweating inside his body glove, the prosthetic of his throat working hard as he swallowed. “…There is no Mand’alor.” Jango answered instead, levering his blaster higher when he heard a small rustle.

There was an agreeing hum. “No… there is not. There’s a Duchess… did you know I was on Mandalore during the civil war and succession crisis?” It was Kenobi for sure then, though Jango’s brows raised a bit at learning he had been there.

But he didn’t say anything, simply kept Boba behind him as the breeze rustled the trees of the clearing again.

“I’ll take your silence as a no, but I was. The Republic sent Jedi to protect the Kryze you see, finding them the better alternative,” Scorn was dripping of Kenobi’s voice and Jango blinked, thoughts pausing slightly. “It was, compared to the Kyr’tsad of course, but it wasn’t what the people wanted. But between a despot pacifist and a murderous tyrant, what could they do…”

It was like lighting from clear sky. “You… don’t like Kryze.” He stated numbly.

The Jedi didn’t like Kryze, a figurehead for peace, someone he clearly knew by the way he was talking. He must have even personally guarded her, Jango knew there was a rumor about the Duchess and a Jedi.

But to call her a despot…

There was a loud snort in answer. “Satine is a woman of her words and her convictions, she’s strong in those… but if you aren’t willing to pick up a weapon to defend, to proclaim neutrality when others suffer, then I have no regards for them.” Kenobi stated strongly.

Numbly, Jango’s blaster slowly sunk and he glanced down at Boba behind his back, large brown eyes looking back up at him worriedly, clearly remembering the last time they encountered Jedi. “…What do you want?” Jango asked.

Kenobi could have stopped him at any moment if the theft of supplies was important.

Instead he had followed Jango, had made no move or reference to the stolen goods, outside of calling Jango a rat.

Away from the other clones, away from the other Jedi, away from camp.

There was a long pause before there was a rustle and Kenobi dropped from the trees, landing smoothly in the opening of the trees Jango himself had entered. Cool green eyes looked calculating and considerably at Jango, as if dissecting him.

Though, Jango was doing the same back.

His feathered dragon was wrapped around the Jedi’s neck, peering at Jango with curious wide eyes. The man’s hair was up in the faux mohawk with his helix piercing on display he had seen earlier and he was sporting the sleeveless black shirt and grey leggings that went with his black boots.

His lightsaber was on his belt.

The weapon was in full view but not in his hands.

Not a danger yet even if the man in front of him was extremely capable and extremely dangerous.

Kenobi placed his index finger to his chin and his thumb below it, rubbing lightly. “…I think that for now, I simply want a chat Jango Fett.” He stated before reaching for his saber.

Jango tensed only to jerk to when Kenobi threw his saber at him, catching the hilt of silver and black by reflex more than anything.

Kenobi didn’t need his saber to kill… but he had thrown it into Jango’s hands.

A gesture of good will?

Jango slowly looked at him, looked at Boba behind him again then back to the Jedi. “…Alright, come inside, we can speak over shig.” He settled on, watching as a slow but satisfied smile crossed the others lips.

Like a cat that got the cream and the canary.

hey there! just got caught up, is there any chance that you’d continue distant pain at some point? 👁 the obi-as-a-vod-but-also-fucked-up-bc-of-qui-gon-and-yoda-being-an-arse is absolutely fucking deliiiightful

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Frowning as he came to a stop, Obi-Wan looked around the camp.

Everything looked like normal.

Trooper bustling around, Skywalker and Tano using some time to work on her studies and thankfully keeping out of Obi-Wan’s path, Qui-Gon meditating by the century large tree on the west side…

But the Force was prodding Obi-Wan to look.

Look past the obvious, look past the easy.

Around his neck, Cotton gave a curious little chitter and Obi-Wan reached up on auto-pilot to gently scratch at her feathered head. With the Force quietly prodding at him, Obi-Wan looked, reaching into the Shadows and undercover skills he had earned through a decade of pain and torment.

And he found what was different.

There.

The Shiny carrying a crate.

Obi-Wan made sure not to look right at them after catching what was unusual.

The shiny was moving far too fluidly, like a veteran, to be what he was pretending to be. But when he paused and put down the crate at his feet, a few clicks from where he had started and pulled his helmet off for a few seconds, Obi-Wan could confirm that the person was indeed a clone.

He wore the same face, a tad more lined than a shiny should have but that could be a defect in the cloning process, it had happened before. But the way he was messing with the helmet…

Obi-Wan eyes narrowed slightly.

Then they widened with realization as he took in that the crate was medical supplies and food.

There was only one person that could pass for a clone and yet not be a clone as no deserter clone would ever come close to the GAR if they could help it. And Obi-Wan knew this was no clone as the equipment was clearly unusual for him and he moved too fluidly in his armor to be a shiny and even then, as a shiny, they should be used to the helmet… unless they had another type of helmet they were prior used to.

Jango Fett.

‘But Jango Fett died on Geonosis… didn’t he?’ Obi-Wan continued watching him, watching where he was going.

If he remembered right… no one had found the man’s body or armor afterward.

Or his ship.

It had been assumed that Boba Fett had run of with it, taken his buir’s body for burial somewhere and the ship to fly away, much to the discomfort of many Jedi aware of it, Mace the foremost since he was the one to dispatch of Jango Fett.

He was just a child after all and none of the Jedi had the resources or time with the war to find him, despite being uncomfortable with the idea of the child just drifting around after what had happened.

But…

‘If its him, how did he survive. I know he was injured, I saw Mace saber pass through his throat…’ Obi-Wan puzzled even as he quietly started following the man without being obvious, slipping in and out of view when he turned, likely feeling Obi-Wan tracking him.

But Obi-Wan had not been a shadow or a bloody hand for the council and the Senate’s worst missions for no reason and therefore Jango did not see his tail, despite his suspicion to having one.

By the time Jango made his way out of the camp and started ditched the shiny armor in the forest on the north of the camp, Obi-Wan was already in the trees above the man when he entered the forest. He had realized the former Mand’alor prospect destination and decided to beat him to the punch, quietly following him while masking his being, moving around the tents and jumping up into the branches a full minute before the man arrived.

He also saw how Jango had survived.

The armor fully removed bared his throat and now Obi-Wan could see his throat was covered in machinery, black and silver but not too bulky, clearly knitting his throat and likely working as a voice box, so he could talk.

Expensive tech, either Jango had shelled out after some expensive jobs or from the Kamino job or someone owed the man the debt of a lifetime. Not just anyone could get their hand on the kind of tech that had likely saved Jango’s life after Geonosis.

‘But how did Boba get his father to a facility in tim-carbonite,’ The realization hit Obi-Wan hard but not out of nowhere. It wouldn’t be the first time a critically injured person had been put in a stasis, even carboon freezing, to keep them alive for a medic to arrive and a bounty hunter like Jango for sure had a carbonite chamber in his ship. ‘So he likely saved his father by using Slave 1’s carbonite chamber…’

Obi-Wan stared at the man, watching as he left the armor pieces behind and continued going with the crate, likely to return to Boba.

Above him, Obi-Wan contemplated, rubbing his chin before slowly moving forward, using the Force to keep silent while moving from tree to tree as he fell back on his black ops skills, silencing his comm and pressing Cotton gently on the muzzle to remind her to be quiet.

Obi-Wan had no information right now beyond Jango being alive and likely deciding that stealing from the GAR to supply himself and Boba was easier than getting supplies from the local… but he would get it.

Obi-Wan Kenobi always got his information, one way or another.

for distant pain, does obi-wan ever confront the council (or maybe anakin or qui-gon) about ashoka’s presence in the battlefield? or does he work it out some other way? maybe some protective obi-wan and him bonding with ashoka? (this is such a great series, i’m in love with your writing Ɛ>)

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Admittedly, Obi-Wan was avoiding the girl.

Though if asked, he would deny it and claim he was busy and it wasn’t like she was generally in the same area as him.

Mostly because Obi-Wan could sense her and easily managed to avoid going where she was for the most part.

She brought up unpleasant memories and feelings for him, feelings he’d rather not have to confront while he was still preparing to tear into the rest of the council. Or rather, one council member.

Yoda.

His top lip curled as he thought of his grandmaster and all the little threads the old man had pulled on for too many years.

From learning that the old man had managed to send people away from Initiate Kenobi, to reserve him for Jinn when the man didn’t even want a padawan, to many actions throughout Obi-Wan’s youth, to Naboo and then this.

A young padawan, an underage padawan, in the active war zones.

They couldn’t stop masters from taking padawans, that wasn’t how the Jedi worked, but they were suppose to be left behind from the active and terrible war zones.

Ahsoka Tano was underage by the definition of her race, as a togruta she had to be seventeen as togrutas matured slightly quicker than most human races.

Not to mention that she was Anakin Skywalker’s padawan.

One of the most active Jedi General’s in the entire war, being in the thickest of fights.

The things she would have seen, the amount of lives she would have felt be lost…

Obi-Wan fought the urge to vomit, Cerasi’s empty eyes flashing in his mind.

‘What the hell am I suppose to do?’ He buried head in his arms, ignoring the sensations of the troopers concern floating around him. Being in the mess tent was honestly easier than being anywhere else, the amount of people around him thankfully distracting.

Plus, the troopers always made him feel better.

Their presence was soothing.

It didn’t quite bring his mind of the fact that his own fucking great grandmaster had sent an underage padawan to one of the most active war generals. Anakin Skywalker couldn’t keep her trapped on the ship at all times.

Hell, he knew from Depa that she unfortunately had to bring her padawan with her.

Young Caleb was also a minor, but Depa tried to shield him, leave him on the ship or in camp if possible.

She didn’t actively bring him into the thickest of the fights she was in and Depa was also delegated to smaller battles, more a General placed to hold positions once a planet was won, partly in due to her previous injuries and the coma she had been in.

‘What is he thinking!?’ Obi-Wan bit at his bottom lip so hard it started bleeding, grunting slightly at the pain. He ignored Cotton’s worried chirping in his ear, the little insistent nudging at his cheek and ear as she tried to get his attention.

He was too busy thinking.

Obi-Wan couldn’t understand what in the world Yoda was thinking.

He cared about the young of the Jedi order, he always had, he wouldn’t risk them needlessly and by sending Ahsoka Tano to Anakin Skywalker, he was clearly risking her life.

That was the sticking point of it all, the who she was sent to.

The most active of the Jedi Generals they had become, someone close to the Chancellor, who accepted or was sent to some of the most dangerous battlefields of the entire war. Well, at least the public side of the war.

There were the blackops missions, the secret ones, that the public didn’t get to know.

Some of those were even more dangerous.

But Obi-Wan had never brought anyone with him that was underage for those, hell, he even made Zuru stay back for those.

He had never been comfortable with the GAR but understood the need, despite how suspicious their origins were.

So he made sure to leave Zuru in places he would be safe, kept him out of the worst lines of fire if possible and made Zuru simply deliver him or pick him up most of the time.  

“General?” A low, warm voice interrupted Obi-Wan’s circling thoughts. A voice Obi-Wan had started to listen to, even if he consciously didn’t realize it and therefore, he raised his head to blink up at Commander Cody.

The man smiled back at him and sat a cup down in front of the Jedi. Picking up the cup, Obi-Wan blinked into it for a moment then looked up at Cody in surprise. “This is…” He trailed off, too shocked to finish his sentence.

Cody’s smile grew a tad. “Spicy starva tea, Zuru told me you enjoy drinking it,” The commander nodded a tad. “Said it helped with your appetite and that you also enjoyed the flavor.” He tacked on.

Nodding slowly, Obi-Wan took a small sip of it, letting the flavor wash over his tongue. “How?” He wondered.

Spicy starva was from Stewjon and the export of it had become restricted before even the war due to the strict regulations of Stewjon itself.

To have it now…

He couldn’t help but smile, Cotton nuzzling up under his ear as her friend’s mood lifted slightly. “Thank you Cody, this… this is a rare treat for me.” He murmured quietly, looking up at him.

Cody’s lips quirked slightly. “You’re welcome… and there’s a cuddle puddle tonight, just so you know.” He tacked on a wink for Obi-Wan before saluting and making his way to the tent flaps.

‘A cuddle puddle? They consider this area safe then?’ Obi-Wan blew on the tea as he mulled over it, taking a small sip to savor the tea. ‘…It tastes like…’ Smiling into the cup, Obi-Wan settled with the warm weight of Cotton around the neck.

I finally caught up on Distant Pain and I noticed that Rex mentioned Ahsoka when the clones were talking about their generals doing dangerous stuff. Has Obi-Wan met her yet or is Anakin kinda hiding her from him?

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Pausing, Obi-Wan raised his brow at Dogma. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” He questioned slowly.

Shifting, the trooper in black and silver glanced at his fellow trooper then back to Obi-Wan. “Commander Tano is on route to meet us, she’s the padawan of General Skywalker. She’ll be here in less than two days.” Dogma repeated, looking uncertainly at Obi-Wan’s stone face.

Of course, Obi-Wan was quite aware that padawan’s were in the war efforts.

Hell, he had been part of the council when they voted on allowing the padawans onto the battlefield and how young they could be.

Ahsoka Tano was fifteen years old.

Despite not meeting with them, Obi-Wan was also aware of his lineage, who joined them.

She only recently turned fifteen.

From the way Dogma spoke, not only had he met the young padawan but this was not the first time she had been on a battlefield.

He took a deep breath, sitting back in the creaky chair in his tent, pausing all his data work as he set his pad down on the equally creaky table he had. “Are you telling me that Anakin Skywalker is allowing his young padawan onto the battlefield, the most active battlefields in the entire war?” He questioned blankly.

Dogma slowly nodded, even as Zuru shifted beside him, both equally uncertain clearly. “Since she became his padawan, yes sir. General Yoda sent her to him, General Jinn thought she was going to be his padawan.” Dogma explained, though he didn’t seem familiar with the situation.

Second-hand information from one of his vode then.

Obi-Wan stared at him before slowly getting up and moving to pick up his sparring droid case. “Right, I’m gonna… I need to work out some aggression now.” He stated crisply, lips pulled into a taut, white line.

Both troopers parted, allowing Obi-Wan past them and out of the tent, the Jedi marching past several vode as he made his way over to an empty area for sparring, his mind whirling with the information he had just gained.

Not only was a padawan under the age of seventeen, as was the majority for togrutas, being regularly deployed to the worst of the war zones in this war by her master, but also with the full knowledge and permission of the grandmaster of the Jedi order.

Obi-Wan’s great grandmaster.

Dropping the case, Obi-Wan kicked it so hard he felt like his toes were going to break, his anger getting the better of him.

Even as he lunged at the droid, he could feel Zuru and Dogma’s concern bouncing of his shields, could feel the attention of the camp slowly turn towards him as the noises started echoing, could feel Jinn suddenly being there.

And with him, Skywalker.

Obi-Wan’s carefully shuttled anger grew again and he let out a deep snarl at the injustices the latter reminded him of.

Their padawans shouldn’t be out in these fields, at all, but at the very least their youngest, the ones below their majority, should never be in the worst battlefields.

Obi-Wan’s grandmaster had allowed such a thing and Obi-Wan felt like tearing his hair out as he worked with his emotions.

The myth of Jedi not feeling anger, rage or even wrath was something he didn’t understood but if anyone had seen Obi-Wan at that moment, they would have that notion removed.

Because Obi-Wan was angry, angrier than he had ever been before in his life.

But he was also working through it.

‘Feel it, taste it but don’t let it control you,’ He reminded himself firmly, teeth gritted as he dodged the swing of a metal arm and lashed out with his leg. ‘I am stronger than my rage, I am better than my wrath. I am in control, not it.’

if you’re still doing distant pain, could we see more stories from obi-wan’s black ops missions/obi-wan being completely reckless and how the clones react to that? maybe some angst from obi-wan worrying he’s not enough for others after qui gon gave him up?? you’re an amazing writer!!!

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Gingerly taking a step while holding onto Dogma’s arm, Obi-Wan let out a low groan as it pulled on tender healed skin as his foggy head finally started pushing blood in the right directions. “Shitty titty… blasted naked besalisk, fucking six titted-aaaah.” He grumbled deeply and paused, ignoring both Rex and Cody giving him bemused look and Dogma’s vaguely horrified one.

Zuru was just too used to his General’s behavior to take notice of the cursing and the rather… uniqueness of it. Which was why he was just sitting cross legged on Obi-Wan’s bed, watching closely as Obi-Wan tryingly started walking around after hanging upside down.

“Next time I see Dooku, I’m shoving my lightsaber up his arse.” Obi-Wan growled before carefully pulling away from Dogma’s arm and moving on his own, breathing out heavily as it still made his head feel a bit faint.

But he felt better as he moved, healing skin stretching nicely after the bacta had healed it even if it was sore along with his head.

“Where in galaxy have you seen six tits?” Rex couldn’t finally help but ask, scratching at his blond fuzz.

“Ever seen a naked jawa?” Obi-Wan bounced back, moving between the beds with stronger and stronger steps, ignoring how the rest of the tent paused at the reply.

Dogma gained a more obviously horrified look, echoed by both Rex and Cody, Helix squinting thoughtfully at the ceiling of the tent.

“Okay, hold up, you’ve seen a naked Jawa?” Zuru blinked at him. No one saw a naked jawa, they didn’t undress in front of outsiders from what people could tell and they got really territorial and angry if you tried to pull their hoods down.

“More like stripped it, I had to find my lightsaber somehow, little weasel thought I didn’t notice he stole it.” Obi-Wan grumbled as he paused and carefully stretched. All the bed laying and coddling had left him feeling stiff but thankfully the medics were willing to let him up now.

He ignored the disturbed and shocked looks of the troopers around him as he continued lightly stretching.

People didn’t just undress jawas after all but that was what Obi-Wan had been required to do, to get his lightsaber back.

Finally finished stretching, Obi-Wan turned and gave Zuru an expectant look.

The pilot, attuned as he was to Obi-Wan’s behavior, simply shook his head and threw him a black pouch.

Grinning happily, Obi-Wan made his way over to the mirror, set the black pouch onto the closest surface and fished out a tube of hair mousse from his products.

Quietly, most of the troopers watched Obi-Wan rub the hair product between his hands and run it through his hair, working it up into the faux mohawk he normally sported. “To be fair, I couldn’t have the little bastard open the case, if it found out I had a lightsaber, I’d either have to do some fast talking to convince the mandalorians I was with that I killed a Jedi or flee, compromising my mission.” He drawled slightly.

Perking up, Cody tilted his head. “Mandalorians? You worked with some?” He asked curiously, a tad hopefully. Obi-Wan had come to learn that a lot of the vode liked to assimilate mandalorian culture into their own.

Not really a shock, their progenitor was after all one, had hired many mandalorian teachers that taught the initial troopers and those later on had taught their own brothers.

The blood of true Mandalore flowed through the clones, regardless what kind of complicated view the other mandalorians had on them.

“Spied on them,” Obi-Wan corrected easily, not letting his thoughts escape, tilting his head back and forth before reaching into the bag again for a can of spray. “Death Watch, they’re officially listed as terrorists organization, even by the Republic despite staying on Mandalore most of the time but most consider them a ‘bygone’ threat.” Obi-Wan’s lips pulled into a sneer, alerting everyone what he thought of that decision.

“So you were spying on them to…what?” Rex questioned curiously.

“Correction, I was fucking the leader for information,” Obi-Wan smirked to himself, ignoring the aghast expressions in the mirror. Pre Vizla had been an easy mark for him and chatty once in bed. “To be fair, flash a bit of stewjoni blood at a true mandalorian and they kinda lose their mind, tack in the fact that I could fight and am decently attractive, especially back at twenty five, piece of cake infiltration really.” He chuckled quietly.

Before someone could respond to that, another person spoke up, clearly horrified. “Did the council send you on honeypot missions after you left me?” A strangled voice from the front of the tent question and Obi-Wan paused, turning his head to look at Qui-Gon.

He narrowed his eyes faintly before shrugging. “We do ours for the cause, Deatch Watch leader is a man of convictions with little morals and I knew my duty. Getting him to talk was difficult. So yes.” He turned back, spraying his hair so it would hold the mohawk shape.

Was he proud of that part of his missions repertoire?

No. Had it been necessary to get Pre Vizla talking?

Yes.

Obi-Wan knew that his information had at least helped keep Death Watch from abducting more children and kept them from infiltrating offices of the New Mandalorian government.

Even if Satine refused to listen to sense.

His lip curled a bit as he thought of his old flame before firmly snuffing the thought. If she wanted to suppress everything that made a Mandalorian into a Mando or exile those that didn’t listen, then fine, on her head be the cultural genocide.

She wanted to be the Senate’s little voice, she could stay there and rot for all he cared.

But Obi-Wan had washed his hands on all that, he had given her the information she’d need and what had she done with it?

Nothing.

‘It is times like this I very much wish Jango Fett had become Mand’alor, at least this travesty of a pale imitation culture wouldn’t exist. Nor would the black markets for traditional Mandalorian items.’ He mused to himself, ignoring Qui-Gon watching him with stricken eyes in the mirror.

Ok I was trolling through Distant Pain as I do and I need Obi Wan being fretted over by the medics, especially with how the vode have adopted him pleassseeee

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Wiggling slightly, the Jedi let out a soft noise. “…I feel like I’m swaddled. What in the world did you do to me Kix?” Obi-Wan questioned with some drowsy bemusement.

The medic popped into view, raising one brow as he peered down at Obi-Wan. “Because technically, I guess you are swaddled. You have a cocktail in your system thanks to Ventress and I’d rather you not try moving with it, especially after hanging upside down.” He stated a tad dryly.

“You almost fell flat on your face when you tried walking sir, I agree with Kix.” Dogma stated from the end of the bed and Obi-Wan flopped his head to look at the two troopers sitting at the end of his bed, both Zuru and Dogma radiating approval.

Clearly they were very happy that Obi-Wan wasn’t going anywhere.

He pouted at them slightly, wiggled again then gave up, huffing softly as he settled.

Not that he was really about to complain, it was mostly for show.

He was seriously comfortable, warm and wrapped up with some of his favorite people around him.

“I’m not shocked, the drugs Ventress has given him is low grade outside of the Force inhibitor,” Kix continued, patting Obi-Wan on the head before gently rubbing when Obi-Wan tilted into the petting. “Without the Force to flush it, its having some ugly side effects and I wouldn’t be shocked if he comes up with a cold or something, his immune system is compromised currently. And we’re not even talking about hanging upside down for hours.” Kix sighed deeply.

Zuru let out a grumble before patting Obi-Wan’s leg, all of them aware how touch starved Obi-Wan was and doing their bits to help him. “Okay, well, how about you tell me about this disemboweling thing you mentioned General, cause I sure as kark don’t know about that.” He huffed.

Opening his mouth, Obi-Wan blinked and tilted his head when he heard a crash, feeling Kix hand in his hair had gone still. He found Rex on the floor, having crashed into Helix when the medic and captain entered. “I’m sorry, the what now?” The blond seethed, staring at them as he pushed himself up, ignoring Helix hand.

Most likely due to not noticing but still, Helix pouted a bit at being ignored before his eyes too snapped to Obi-Wan.

Wiggling a bit inside his blanket, Obi-Wan huffed. “Bah, early carrier, encountered a smuggler with a sickle as a weapon,” He giggled slightly to himself as he remembered the mission. It was suppose to be an easy one and had turned into a shit show that involved spice, child slaves and his guts spilling out of him. “She split me from hip to hip in almost a vertical line and it all spilled out of me.” He giggled some more because clearly the smuggler hadn’t anticipated it anymore than Obi-Wan.

She had ended up vomiting from the sight of Obi-Wan’s organs being on the outside and he had slammed her to the wall, knocking her out as his guts laid bare for the world.

One of the older kidnapped kids, almost a teen, had been the one to help him get it back into place and wrap Obi-Wan’s robe around his midsection until they could get help.

From the sights of it, the troopers didn’t find it funny at all, Dogma looked like he was about to vomit as he made those distressed clicking noises he made and Zuru looked like he wanted to scream as Cotton crawled into the pilots lap.

“…You aren’t leaving the sight of of the vode,” Rex stated, his the finger he was leveling at Obi-Wan shaking a bit and Obi-Wan becoming a bit cross eyed from looking at it. “Someone is always going to be by you, ner vod, because trouble is attracted to you.” He wheezed.

Obi-Wan pouted, would complain if it wasn’t for Kix fingers scratching at his scalp, the hooped up Jedi missing the tremble in the medic hand and Helix getting an Iv ready with wide eyes.

How the hell did their idiot Jedi brother survive before them!