The image, in FreshAndYoung, of little Boba and Din deciding, simultaneously, to ditch their weapons and go all-out is HILARIOUS! And a bit adorable, no lie. Poor Jango, having to witness it with no real measure of forewarning – being TOLD someone is from the future, and SEEING them act on things they shouldn’t know, are two very different things. And writing it from a generally-Clone perspective was delightful, also, since it gave us a bit of insight into THOSE wonderful characters, too! Yay!

Quietly accepting the glass from the other man, Obi-Wan eyed Fett for a few long minutes as the bounty hunter sipped his whiskey, the rain pounding down against the outside filling in the silence that otherwise filled the space between them.

Ever since the sparring, the man had been rather quiet and he knew young Boba had noticed it, hugging his father tightly around the waist before going to bed with the other two time travelers, young Din keeping the cadet helmet, though thankfully taking it of in the bedroom from what Obi-Wan could tell.

Never comfortable to sleep in a helmet after all, even if you could do it.

Not that Obi-Wan could blame the bounty hunter for his quiet.

Knowing his son was from the future and really, truly realizing that his son wasn’t the same person as he had been the day before or the years before that, that the child you had been raising somehow had become a stranger almost in just one night… must be harrowing.

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how he himself would react if Anakin suddenly changed his behavior in such a way, hoped he would manage it but unless it was you in the situation, you couldn’t be sure of your reaction.

Simply sipping the burning liquid slowly, Obi-Wan kept his awareness on Jango, watching him from the corner of his eyes as the man leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, staring into his glass.

Honestly, when Obi-Wan settled down on the couch as Jango helped the kids get ready for bed, this wasn’t quite what he thought the Force was prodding him there for.

But it made sense.

Jango Fett was important in the grand scheme of everything here, he had knowledge, he was dear to Boba Fett and had some measure of control of not only the trainers of the clones but also the kaminoans.

So his connection to everything was important, his bond to his son was important.

It was clear that at this point, Jango was struggling not to drown so to speak and since Obi-Wan was the only other person in the know, he was the one Jango was going to go to. The one to help him swim up.

“…Is this normal?” Obi-Wan let out a questioning hum at the grunted question. “This… this Force osik, time travel, do jetii do this osik all the time or something?” He sneered before taking a big gulp of alcohol, head slumping down a bit again.

Considering that, swirling the amber liquid before taking a sip, Obi-Wan shook his head. “Outside of a few esoteric texts, this is the first time I’ve actually heard of it as a genuine thing. The very first time I’ve experienced it for sure.” He stated wryly, though, now that he knew time travel was real, he couldn’t help but wonder about the multiple dimension theory, for ever decision a new universe.

Was there worlds where this had not happened and yet happened, creating different timelines?

Was everything somehow true at the same time and yet a lie?

Oh, the philosophical conundrum was making his head hurt.

It was a curious thought, if everything was true in some way, was anything really a lie?

Fett let out a deep sigh, though if it was relief or simply expressing his frustration, Obi-Wan was uncertain as he turned his head to watch him, Jango staring into his glass, as if he could find the answers at the bottom of it. “…A month ago, Boba would have crawled into my bed if he had a nightmare,” He murmured. “Now… now I’m not sure what he would do if he had one. If he’s had one at all. The way he fought… the way he talks and moves now…” Jango slowly shook his head.

Peering at him, wondering how it must feel if the person you loved with all your heart suddenly changed, Obi-Wan smiled slightly. “Has he really changed though?” He prodded carefully.

Lifting his head, Fett gave him a gimlet stare.

Obi-Wan simply raised his brow in turn. “Really, has he?” At the prolonged silence, Obi-Wan shrugged. “You know your son best. Yes, you did not teach him how to fight as he did earlier today, clearly. However, you’ve been around that boy since he was an infant, you’ve watched his first steps, his first words, you know him best. So tell me, has young Boba really changed or is it just that he has additional traits you don’t recognize?” He prodded gently.

Jango paused at that, staring at Obi-Wan before tilting his head back, though this time he stared at the window being pounded by rain. Slowly the man started to frown, lips twitching faintly as he mouthed words to himself.

Obi-Wan let him think, savored the whiskey instead as he sat back on the couch and peered at a faint smudge on the roof, wondering what in the world had caused the stain in the sterile being of Kamino.

The Kaminoans certainly had a preference for… sterility.

Whiteness.

Of course, Obi-Wan knew that they didn’t see the world as most humanoids did, but… still, this was a living area but there was a distinct lack of color, of shades… of differences.

Just sharp edges, clean cuts and an alarming amount of white or off white colors.

Almost made him think he was in a medical facility at times, even when he was in places aimed to live in or train in and not just the labs.

“Brownies.” Obi-Wan blinked, turning his head to Jango.

The man was staring at the spot too, his lips faintly twitched into a wistful but fond smile. “Pardon?” Obi-Wan tilted his head curiously.

“Brownies, Boba wanted to make brownies,” He nodded with his chin towards the smudge on the ceiling. “I don’t know how, but somehow we… um, we messed up. The brownies batter sorta… exploded?” He colored slightly, taking a quick sip.

Brows raising sharply, Obi-Wan quickly looked up at the ceiling and then towards the kitchen.

Then he turned his head back at Jango, eyes wide. “…How in Force na-”

Jango just shrugged, still smiling despite the pink dusting his ears and cheeks. “…You’re right. Its still Boba in there.” He whispered, staring at the ancient smudge that had once been brownies batter once upon a time.

YoungAndFresh:  Boba and Din are going to get antsy and spar, terrifying Jango, because he didn’t teach Boba half of those moves!  And impressing everyone else, because they didn’t think a child Din’s age could pull off that particular throw.  And Obi-Wan is trying to find out why the clones would turn on the jedi.

The training hall was full of troopers today, more than usual, chock full of troopers and even a few of the trainers that seemed to be milling around more than working out and sparring.

But there was a very good reason for that, for one, Jango Fett was in attendance with his son, two, there was a karking Jedi and three… the two impossible children were there.

And he and Boba were sparring.

The moment that missive had hissed through the clone troopers ranks, many had made their way to the training hall in question, a few with recording equipment for those that couldn’t come see, either if they wanted to see the Jedi, the impossible kids or Boba actually fighting.

As far as any of them could remember, Boba had never sparred in public with the rest of them, Jango Fett seemingly preferring to keep his son apart from them and training in a private place.

After all, he was ‘special’ compared to them.

The one that got picked.

The one unaltered.

If there was some resentment and jealousy attached to that… well, they knew better than to voice it.

Still, looking at the two little shapes, the impossible human kid already wearing a helmet and basic cadet armor while Boba had yet to put on his helmet, no one could say they weren’t a tad excited to see what might happen.

“You ready Din’ika?” Boba questioned, cracking his knuckles easily with a grin on his face as he faced down his opponent on the other side. The boy had leaned a training staff against his side and once he was finished cracking his fists, he grabbed it, smirking happily.

He got a head cocked in answer from this ‘Din’ika’, a few of them wondering what the others name was, before the little one raised the staff, the way the other held the staff showing he was familiar with a staff. “You don’t have bulk anymore.” Came a soft, modulated voice.

“And you don’t have the height but I know how to fight you Din.” Boba shot back as he put the cadet helmet on, no longer looking so unique compared to everyone else.

The Prime giving a small sigh as he gently hoisted the other impossible child a tad higher, the little one babbling happily as he watched the other kids while the Jedi tilted his head to watch them.

Ignoring the confusing sentences, clones started quietly making bets between themselves, betting everything from favors, extra rations or whatever they thought would make a good trade.

For a moment, the two kids eyed each, two little predators watching, waiting… and then Boba moved, quick on his feet as he lashed out first, closing the distance and swiping down at the other’s legs with his own.

Din, because that had to be the name of the other boy, jumped, using the staff to as support to swing himself to the side quickly before he as quick as an ocean viper raised the staff to slam it down in a graceful arc.

Equally fast, Boba bought up his staff, blocking the hit but grunted as the force of it had his knees buckling slightly as he adjusted his grip on his staff.

“Must have underestimated the force of it.” CC-2224 whispered as quietly as he could to CC-3636. They had no way of knowing that it wasn’t the force of it Boba had underestimated, but the strength of his own body.

Din hadn’t been joking in reminding Boba he didn’t have the bulk to tank it out as he had before when they sparred and it was showing.

But to those unfamiliar with the boys and the situation, the two still came of impressive as the two lashed out, clearly getting more comfortable the longer they sparred.

While they were both lithe little things, it was clear that while Din seemed to prefer to use his fancy footwork and quick moves to either wear down his opponent or end a fight before it began, Boba used his strength and bulk to take on the other.

Which might have been more effective if the other had more bulk but quite a few of the trainers and the more advanced clones, especially the Nulls and Alphas, could tell that with time, if he trained the right way, Boba could become one hell of a tank fighter, heavy muscles and tight weight would do it.

Especially coupled with a proper armor.

Din on the other hand was speed and grace, where Boba seemed like he thought he could run through boulders and smash helmets with his staff as one particular vicious swing seemed to indicate, Din was more inclined towards endurance, wear down his prey and take them out when their strength waned. He dodged and waved, jabbed out with the staff to hit critical points and created openings to tire Boba out.

Finally though, Boba showed that between the two, he still had the superior strength, so maybe there was something to his tank behavior, when he slammed down his staff so hard in the middle of Din’s own that it broke, leaving Din stumbling back with two halves.

Jango stepped forward, as if to call it of when both threw their weapons as if on mutual agreement to be on even footing and if anyone had watched closely enough, they would have seen the shock bloom in the Prime’s eyes when the younglings started to brawl.

“Huh, would you look at that, didn’t know Bob’ika had it in him.” Alpha-17 whispered, leaning close to Spar, Muzzle nodding on the other side of the clone.

“Vicious little thing.” Muzzle agreed, wincing a tad when Din took a fist to the stomach only to whistle when, outside of bowing slightly in pain with a modulated wheeze, Din didn’t let up and instead pounced forward to drag Boba to the mats.

“Both of them.” Alpha-17 tacked on with slight amusement, mind flashing back to the day before when he had met the two in the hallway, how viciously Boba had been standing in front of the other.

Din had come off as a meek, terrified little thing but now he was anything but, rolling on the mats, grappling with Boba.

Maybe Alpha would offer some training aid to the two, should they take it. Before he wouldn’t have contemplated it but Boba was different now, no longer a scowling but obviously scared thing. The Boba he had seen before wouldn’t have backed down if Alpha talked to him.

Hissing in sympathy as Din suddenly got slammed to the mat and his arm wrenched, Alpha nodded to himself as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Yeah, if he could get the two on hand, he’d ask if they wanted some training aid.

Fresh and Young? Love your Time travel Din, Bob’s and Grogu

Watching closely as Din started eating with Grogu curled up into the other, Boba narrowed his eyes before nodding in satisfaction, seeing Din focus more on the meal than anything else.

Din could be problematic when it came to eating.

Not because he wanted to be but because his body literally forgot his hunger at times, something about his subset of human Fennec had theorized quietly one drunken night and Din admitting that his entire people had been slaughtered, so there was no one to ask.

It was as good an answer as anything at the time.

Now though, Boba was wondering if it wasn’t a trained response, to ignore his own hunger. Maybe a lack of resources and therefore he had gotten his body used to less food or substandard food like ration bars with hot sauce on it.

Technically, it had all the nutrients one needed and was well enough for a bounty hunter to keep going.

But it wasn’t exactly healthy in the long run and most humans were suppose to eat between four to seven meals a day. The ration bars would keep you with the vitamins, the fat and the proteins a human was suppose to have but it could wreck havoc on a humans digestion system eventually and Boba suspected it was likely what had made Din eat the way he did.

Boba had tried very hard to get Din to at least eat four meals if not more and Grogu helped actually, the adiik reminding Din to eat since the baby ate often.

Still, now that the other was eating the hot leftovers, Boba was left with his buir.

Who was watching all of them Boba realized when he turned his head to him.

Jango raised his brows at him and Boba had to resist the urge to nervously rub at his head scars.

Because he didn’t have those anymore and the feeling of hair was very distracting but welcome. Instead of rubbing at those, Boba instead pressed his knuckles together in his lap and rubbed his thumbs together. “You want answers buir… but I don’t… I don’t know how to…” He looked nervously to Din.

Now that he was actually in front of his dad and talking, he wasn’t actually sure how to explain everything, from the time travel to the other two or the fact that Din was his lover and not…

Well, that area was still weird.

They were children after all and Boba knew he was going to have complicated feelings about this for years to come for sure. Hell, when their hormones eventually came, it was going to be even worse and Boba was not looking forward to that.

“The beginning is usually the best place.” Jango stated evenly, his hands flat on his thighs, leaning forward slightly towards the kids.

Because that was what they were now, kids.

Boba could tell that he wasn’t quite thinking like his adult self, there were things… missing in a way. And some memories seemed fainter somehow, as if his child mind couldn’t quite comprehend it.

Maybe for the best, but it left Boba feeling a tad frustrated.

Looking to Din again, finding the other having paused with the spoon in his mouth, the two tried to communicate with their eyes as Grogu bubbled at them.

Wait, how old was Grogu now?

He and Din had deaged after all, had Grogu?

Was there another Grogu in this universe just like he had wondered if there was another Din?

A throat cleared itself loudly and Boba forcefully turned his head back to Jango, realizing he had been spiraling and cursing himself for it. That kind of thing could have gotten him killed in his bounty hunter carrier and as King of Tatooine.

‘My focus certainly isn’t what it used to be.’ He cursed inwardly. “I’m sorry, my focus…” He glanced back at Din then back to his buir before his thoughts could go rabbiting again.

Jango though, simply sighed then smiled in that fond, exasperated way that made a lump appear in Boba’s throat. Stars, he had forgotten that look, how much it told him that Jango loved him despite Boba doing things that made the other upset.

When Jango reached out and gently ruffled his hair, the entire thing a distraction really, Boba had to fight his tears and before he could think better of himself, he crawled forward quickly into the others lap and held onto his dad, burying his face into Jango’s chest.

Just like the day before as he pressed his face to Jango’s stomach, the scent of his dad filled his nose along with the arms wrapping around him tightly.

Just like when Din held him, they reminded him that he was safe, that Jango was there, would hold him and reassure him and Boba let the tears come that he had kept back for a day and a half.

His buir was really there, this wasn’t a dream and it didn’t look like there was a way back.

Warm fingers ran through his hair and Jango made a low noise, not to shush Boba but simply a comforting deep noise. “I’m here Bob’ika. Buir’s here. Deep breaths Kar’ika.” Jango murmured quietly, his voice a rumble in his chest.

Ka’ra, Boba had missed his father so much and to hear him call Boba Kar’ika once more… there were times Boba would have given his limbs to hear his buir’s voice once more and today he got to hear it, feel his arms around him… it was almost more than he could handle.

Time had not made the grief any easier to bear, had only made it numb as the memories lost its harsh edges and Jango’s voice and scent faded from his mind.

A small hand joined Jango’s on his back and Boba didn’t need to turn to see it was Din, setting of a new set of sobs of relief that he hadn’t lost Din to gain his father back.

He wasn’t sure what would be worse, the guilt of choosing one might have broken him and now he didn’t need to chose, because Din and Grogu were already here.

His beloved with his son and his buir in the same room, something he never thought he’d have and he could actually introduce Din to his buir and…

Oh Ka’ra.

Breaking down against his buir should have been humiliating, Boba was really a man of his forties and yet all he could feel was a startling amount of relief and love as he buried himself into Jango’s warmth while feeling Din’s tiny hand on his back. Is it possible to grieve a man that’s alive?

It feels like that’s what Boba is doing, ugly sobbing into his buir’s chest to the point he’s sure he’s getting snot onto the others shirt even as he makes up his mind, crying painful tears into the chest of a man he thought he’d never see only in echos and dreams.

This time, this time he would make sure he didn’t loose any of them.

Not his buir, not Din and not Grogu, his little family would survive and they would thrive and Boba would do anything to make sure they survived.

Even if he had to take on that karking wrinkled worm Palpatine himself in a fist fight.

That decayed motherfucker nor Dooku, his pawn, wouldn’t get to manipulate his buir again.

Adiik = Child

Buir = Parent

Kar’ika Little Heart (Bodword helped get this and as they said ‘it’s actually super cute, because “kar’ta” is heart, and “kar’ika” could also be little heart’)

If you’re up for it, I would love to read more of deaged and time traveling Boba, Din and Grogu! What exactly do they tell Jango?

Peering curiously at the little child as he feed it, Jango tilted his head as he cooed happily. “You know, I’m not sure this is what you’re suppose to be eating little one.” He stated in a tad of bemusement, still feeding him little bits of leftover tiingilar carefully.

The little one had come stumbling out of Boba’s bedroom about an hour after the two older had left, rubbing his eyes while looking around with a wide eyed look that Jango easily identified as hungry, even on an alien child.

Years of having Boba had accustomed Jango to looks like that.

Leaving a child hungry wasn’t in Jango’s nature, even as his mind hissed at him about the clones, and therefore he had carefully picked Grogu up and settled him on the couch, promising him food.

That had gotten the little one to keep sitting, cooing hopefully, large eyes following him as adorable ears twitched in hope.

Unfortunately, Jango had yet to stock up properly, he only had a few things and most of it required prep or defrostnig.

Not ideal when a child was already hungry.

Which left Jango feeding a child the spicy leftovers.

He had thought that the child might pitch a fit but…

‘Does he have an iron mouth or something?’ He wondered in bemusement, carefully dabbing Grogu’s chin as a bit of stew leaked. “Guess you like spice huh, does the other one too? Would make feeding you both easier.” Jango stated, smiling wryly.

For all the kid was like the Jedi grandmaster in looks, it was… difficult not to find him adorable. “I’m guessing I’m gonna have to find some nappies for you.” He paused, frowning slightly, chuckling when Grogu left out a grumpy noise.

He quickly fed him another spoonful, only for both to pause as the door opened, Boba leading Din inside. Boba had been quick to introduce the other boy to Jango, before going to bed last night, Jango deciding to wait for Boba to tell him what the kark was going on.

He trusted his son, despite the personality changes, because no one clung as desperately to someone as Boba had done without loving them.

There was something going on and Jango was going to find out and he just knew, just knew deep in his gut, that he would not like it.

The younger but taller boy was still tugging at his hood, looking nervously at Jango with those big, brown eyes of his, as if he wasn’t used to looking others in the face or having his own face exposed.

Boba instead looked grouchy, his lips pursed in what the boy likely thought was a scowl but came of as a pout. It made Jango have to fight against his own laughter.

“Is that tiingilar buir?” Boba suddenly asked, staring at the two as he and Din paused.

Jango shrugged, glancing down at Grogu, who still held his mouth open like a baby bird, waiting for more. “Was the only thing I had that didn’t need prep. Thought he might pitch a fit at the spice but…” He shrugged, smiling helplessly.

“Are you really surprised?” Din spoke up, voice soft and lisping faintly. Jango had already identified the accent, Aq Vetina, a planet on the outer area of the Mandalorian sector. It was colonized by farmers as far as he knew and that again made Din even more impossible. “He eats frogs.” The boy pointed out.

Boba let out a thoughtful noise at that before sighing and nodding, pulling Din towards the couch. “…Wait, what?” Jango blinked then looked down at Grogu, the ik’aad blinking back at him and demanding opening his mouth. Obediently, Jango fed him another spoon from the bowl.

“I didn’t let him!” Din stated defensively, more animated than Jango had seen him, his lips twisting unhappily. “He jumped on it and swallowed it before I could stop it.”

Jango looked back up, even more surprised. “…He ate it whole?” He rasped, watching as Boba pushed Din to sit down on the couch beside Grogu, the boy quickly stroking the big ears of the baby.

Din grimaced but nodded but before he could say more, Boba spoke up. “Is there more tiingilar?” He questioned brusquely, quelling slightly under Jango’s raised brow, jutting his chin out even as his cheeks pinkened. “Please?”

Scraping the bowl and feeding Grogu the last bit, Jango nodded. “Yes, in the container in the fridge. Its from yesterdays dinner.” And Jango always made more than enough tiingilar, to be able to eat the leftovers.

Boba nodded in satisfaction, grinning happily before turning to Din and raising one little finger at him. “You’re tiny and you’re way too skinny. You’re gonna eat a whole bowl, or so help me, I will…” He paused, looking at his own hand, Din echoing the move.

Then Din grinned, giggling slightly. “I don’t think that’s gonna work out so well.” He stated a tad cheekily, not tugging at his hood as he grinned almost mischievously at Boba.

Boba gave him a peevish look in return, glared at his own hand for a minute while flexing his fingers, then huffed slightly as Grogu gave a giggle too and clapped little claws together in response to Din’s joy, Jango watching them in confusion.

“You’re still eating a whole bowl.” Boba grumbled, making his way to the kitchen, staring up at the cupboards as if they had betrayed him before pulling his stepping ladder over to reach the dishes. Jango would offer him help, but frankly, watching Boba look as if the cupboards had personally insulted him and his entire family line and his armor was something he’d cherish if he was honest.

“He’s upset he’s short.” The soft, lisping voice attracted his attention, Jango turning his attention to Din to see him grinning widely, his arms wrapped around little Grogu now as the adiik had crawled into his lap and snuggled up.

Clearly the baby was full and therefore content.

Jango had to repress the urge to say ‘but he’s always been like this’ and instead raised a brow at the kid in front of him, smiling slightly. Din was clearly an anxious sort and he’d rather not frighten the boy when he was slowly getting used to Jango.

It was clear that Boba was not going to leave Din anywhere.

All of these little clues however was drawing Jango towards a suspicion.

An impossible, improbable and incredulous suspicion.

Yet…

These new children and the changes in Boba…

‘Wait and see, do not act without proper information Jango, or you can walk yourself into a trap.’ Jaster’s low voice spoke up in the recesses of his mind and therefore Jango settled, smiling wryly at Din.

ik’aad = Baby, under 3. Jango doesn’t know how old he is though lol

tiingilar = Spicy traditional mandalorian stew

adiik = children

buir = parent

Mandalorian time travel with Boba and Din? Child Din and Boba? 8D

His son had been behaving strangely all day, a mix between confused and awed and yet wholly grumpy and if Jango didn’t know better, he’d say it was hormones. Boba was after all in that stage of growing where humans started hormone production and it was normal for growing children’s personalities to be in flux.

But Jango did know better, which was why he was keeping a close eye on Boba.

Someone else might assume it was one of the other clones, having snuck into the apartment but that much at least Jango could tell. He would always know which one was Boba and one of the… the other ones.

Boba was unique and Jango loved his son with all his heart and all his soul.

This was his adiik, not one of his eyayah, he didn’t even need Boba to open his mouth to know that.

But that didn’t change that Boba was acting strange.

Yet he couldn’t make sense of it, as eyes just like his looked at him and somehow seemed both older and yet still young at the same time, as Boba pushed into his space and hugged Jango tightly around the waist, his small fingers pressing hard into his hip.

It hurt a tad and Jango was sure to have some tiny bruises later on but the desperation in the hug had Jango simply stroking Boba’s fluffy hair with a soft murmur of reassurance that he wasn’t leaving for a while. Honestly, after the failed hit on the Senator, he best stay put anyhow.

The Jedi were on his tail and he knew that Tyrannus had done his to keep Kamino hidden, so this was his best shot to avoid not only prison but also the rage of his employer.

Then Boba came back from a ‘walk’ into the facility with two other children that same day that weren’t clones, leading the bigger one into the room with a determined expression.

Two impossible children that just shouldn’t have been on Kamino.

One wide eyed, light brown child with a red outfit with impossible grass and earth stains, his hood pulled into his face and if his hands had been free, Jango bet that he would have been tugging it into his face.

But his hands weren’t free as Boba was holding tightly onto one of them, scowling at anyone that came close to the other child, even Jango. In the other hand, another child was held and this one was even more impossible than the first.

The first one was at least human, maybe a genetic mutation from Jango’s own stock, though unlikely as he knew that the Kaminoan’s would have culled such a different chi-clone.

The second was tiny and green, with big dark eyes and twitching ears, looking like that supposedly ancient Jedi that ran the Jedi order. It looked at Jango and cooed at him, wiggling little limbs.

Maybe… not a child but a baby?

It did seem smarter than a baby but if it was true how old the supposed grandmaster of the Jedi order was, then maybe this was a baby in terms of his kind.

“This is Din. He’s staying,” Boba announced in a demanding tone, staring up at Jango. Jango raised his brows at his son, which caused Din to let out a soft squeak and hide a bit behind Boba. Considering he was taller, Din had to hunch down a bit to manage. “Please buir, he has no where else to go.” Boba’s tone softened, an edge of desperation filling it.

‘I must be going soft.’ Jango internally sighed, even as he rolled up his sleeves. “Alright, he can stay… but I want and explanation Boba.” He stated sternly, hiding a smile when Boba instantly seemed to slump at the agreement.

Boba was very attached to this other child, it was clear in the way he behaved, the way he clung to the other and relaxed when Jango agreed to let him stay.

“Grogu too, he has to stay too.” Boba suddenly stated and the green baby cooed loudly, ears twitching. Well, that answered what the child’s name was too at least.

Well, he was already letting one child stay, what did a second one matter?

He hadn’t promised they’d stay forever after all, he wasn’t making a commitment just yet.

But he did need answers, about where these children came from, how Boba knew them, why his Boba had undergone such a change just overnight. ‘But not tonight.’ Jango noted to himself as he zeroed on in Din trying to hide a yawn, the way he clung to Boba’s hand and his minor trembles.

The child was exhausted. “I’m going to make some boiled mealgrains with honey, in the meantime, I want you to show Din the fresher and get him some clothes. His are dirty,” Jango instructed, Boba jerking a bit to look at his… friend? With narrowed eyes. “After that you are all three going to bed, understood?” He raised his brows.

He got one timid nod, a burble of spit and Boba’s cheerful agreement before his child towed the other two towards the fresher, his voice fading the further he moved away with the heavy rain of Kamino hitting the building.

‘…What in the galaxy have I agreed to now?’ Jango couldn’t help but muse as he made his way to the kitchen, shaking his head with a slight sigh. ‘Did I just adopt two new kids? On the demands of my own child?’ He couldn’t help but wonder with amused bewilderment.

Adiik = Child

Eyayah = Echos

Buir = Parent (dad)

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!!

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.

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

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.

can we have more of the A/B/O Jangobi? I just want to see them happy with their baby!

Smiling goofily as he rested his head on Obi-Wan’s belly, Jango couldn’t believe how his life had turned out like this.

Laying on the couch in the Jedi temple, between his mate’s legs, his head resting on the clearly pup swollen belly with Obi-Wan fingers scratching and massaging Jango’s scalp as the Jedi watched his silly little musical show with several pillows behind his back as he was more reclined than laying flat.

Or well, not silly really, but not Jango’s thing at least.

No, Jango’s thing was more feeling how big and warm his mate was, the sensation of his pup beneath his cheek as they moved, Obi-Wan’s sweet scent wrapped around them and the affection that seemed to just linger in the air somehow.

He never expected his life to go this way.

He had thought it be him and Boba, that was all there would be of his pack, a clan of two and no more.

And now he had an intimate pack consisting of Obi-Wan, Boba, Anakin and Rex as the others mate and external pack consisting of a thousand of vode and Jedi, the entire temple becoming a place of safety and warmth.

A proper Clan.

And getting to know the Jedi culture was also something he had come shockingly to appreciate actually.

If the Mandalorians of old had known what Jango knew now… well, he knew quite a few that would have been chasing down Jedi for courtship instead of battle for sure with the parallels that could be drawn between true Mandalorians and Jedi.

Both swore oaths to live by, both would protect their adiik with their lives, took in foundlings that became kin just as fiercely as any born to them, both protected their own people and both were people that could be marginalized by the rest of the galaxy, people as often turning on true Mandalorians as they did on Jedi.

To know that so much of the old hate was made on prejudice… it was strange to think and Jango wondered what Jaster would have said to all of it if he had survived Montross betrayal.

‘…He’d have been fucking thrilled and harassed the scholars in the temple,’ Jango thought some amusement tinged with sadness.

The years had taken the bitterness and anger, had dulled it so only the fond memories remained, but the sadness would always be there.

He’d always miss his adoptive dad, just as he missed his biological parents, just as he missed Arla and often wondered what kind of aunt she’d have been for Boba.

A gentle hand ran over his cheek, catching his attention as he shifted to peer up at Obi-Wan, the other staring down at him with a questioning, saddened gaze. “Your scent shifted, what were you thinking of?” He asked quietly.

Rubbing his cheek down against the belly, Jango let out a deep sigh. “I was just… contemplating how my father and sister would have reacted to all of this. That’s… all.” He rumbled out.

Obi-Wan’s eyes turned sad before he smiled comfortingly down at Jango, running his hand through his mate hair once more, purring quietly.

Jango couldn’t change the past.

The past would forever be stained in blood, pain and betrayal of the worst kind but he had the future in front of him. He wouldn’t soil the future by letting the past taint it, missing and mourning his past family was fine.

But he had a future family to think of.

And new pups that would come.

Catching Obi-Wan’s free hand, Jango brought it to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the knuckles, rubbing the pale hand slowly as he held onto it, letting his mate comfort him along with the soothing feel of the pup beneath his cheek.

This was all he needed, Jango Fett had everything he had ever wanted.

A mate and his adiik, all safe and sound.

And he would fight tooth and nail to ensure it would remain that way.

So I just BLASTED through all of UncertainBeginnings, and oof! I love it! The concept is so neat, and the things that Obi-Wan does differently than canon add such a delightful twist. I love how Jango slowly adjusts to having a Jedi in his space, and then how it becomes so much more than that. I LOVE how clearly he cares for Obi! And I adore how fiercely Obi loves the little Clones, how EAGER he is to go to bat for them, to protect and love and teach them! It’s wonderful!

Rubbing his face as he sat up, Obi-Wan blearily glanced around the apartment as the rain beat against the window.

How he… disliked Kamino.

And those damn kaminoans or longnecks as the clones called them.

Grimacing, Obi-Wan pushed his blanket off himself and got up, stretching slowly.

Force, he wanted to go home but he still had so much to do.

The council members would be arriving later today, Anakin would be too, hopefully his brother padawan could take a look at his arm. Lately the damn thing had been twitching oddly every time Obi-Wan used some of the internal bits unless he was hooked into something like with the prods.

But releasing the blade or electro prod made a strange twitch go through the workings of it.

Anakin had spent the last several years examining and working with Obi-Wan’s arm, being a natural tech wizard and supplied with the information that existed about Obi-Wan’s arm, he had improved it in several ways or fixed it.

The only thing he couldn’t do anything about was the derma covering Obi-Wan used to have.

Since Naboo and triggering the internals to take out Maul, Obi-Wan’s arm no longer tolerated the tight covering derma had, heating up after a few short hours to the point the derma started to melt off of.

That was not ideal and therefore they had stopped though sometimes they would try with new experimental derma, to see if it would work for him.

So far, nothing.

Obi-Wan often had to cover his arm with a glove if he was to planets that had issues with such things or had a climate that did not agree with his metal arm.

Sand in particular was an issue and Anakin had often complained about it to Obi-Wan.

Breathing out, Obi-Wan stepped over to the window to peer out at the raging ocean as the rain slammed down, his dream coming back to him.

The Senate in uproar, a smiling Chancellor with flashing golden eyes, the council with young Anakin in the middle and Senator Amidala walking on a tightrope.

‘A vision or just a dream… hard to say.’ Obi-Wan frowned to himself. If it was a dream, it was certainly one created by what he knew, what he suspected and what he had managed to get Maul to tell him under oath that he was not to reveal what he knew to anyone.

If only he hadn’t promised, if only the Force didn’t ping in warning every time he wanted to inform the council of Palpatine’s true nature.

He could only assume that the reason Jango he was able to inform the other was because he already knew what Palpatine truly was.

To this day he cursed his oath to Maul, the Sith apprentice behind the ray shields sneering in triumph as Obi-Wan sat there in shock, the Force filled with as much sorrow as victory.

An oath made in the Force was not one easily broken.

Of course, that didn’t mean that Obi-Wan hadn’t tried to subtly lead others to the realization of what Palpatine truly was, that he hadn’t made comments here and there and when the Chancellor had tried to have Anakin sent to him…

Well, Obi-Wan had balked and extremely loudly asked what an old man wanted with a young boy of Anakin’s age in private.

That had thankfully quickly put a stop to any meetings, though Anakin had refused to talk to Obi-Wan for two months, until that mission where Obi-Wan ended up in bacta in the Halls. He had woken up to Anakin holding his hand, the padawan’s eyes red rimmed and terrified, the boy crying into his chest for a solid five minutes at least.

It was what made Obi-Wan realize that Anakin dealt with loosing people badly.

And why Obi-Wan had sabotaged his own ship during a mission, forcing him to ‘accidentally’ land on Tatooine.

If there was an extra passenger on his ship and he was missing certain parts of his ship that was none vital for survival that he had to trade for ‘parts’ supposedly… well, the truth was only known to Obi-Wan and a certain lady.

The Force tingled and Obi-Wan looked up at its prodding, his eyes caught on a ship entering atmosphere.

The other Jedi had finally arrived.

It was time.