FIC: Haat'Mand'alor be Yaim'ol ~ Star Wars ~ Obi-Wan/Jaster ~ Mature ~ Chapter 5/10
Title: Haat'Mand'alor be Yaim'ol
Fandom: Star Wars
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Jaster Mereel
Warnings: Time travel, canon-typical violence, fix-it (apparently), not everyone dies/some live, the Kaminoans are the worst, Jaster is the Mand'alor we deserve, character death, the clones deserve better, Jaster has 3 million grandkids, mental manipulation, Mandalorian culture, Mandalorian morality, an excessive amount of murder (of Kaminoans), Jedi culture respected, Jango needs a hug, Rex needs a hug, Fox needs a hug, EVERYONE GETS A HUG (except the Kaminoans), asexual Jango, nonbinary clones, trans clones, polyamory mention, disabled characters, happy ending
Summary: Jaster Mereel doesn't die on Korda VI, but is instead thrust forward thirty years to Kamino.
Part 1/2
Obi-Wan and Jaster ended up bringing Seventeen and Fox with them to the trainers' mess for lunch-Obi-Wan couldn't eat in the clones' mess hall, and he and Jaster agreed it would be cruel to force the two clones to scarf their own meals so they could get back to meet them outside the trainers' mess, when they could just eat with them-and there was a minor shoving match between Fox and Boba, who had tagged along, which Obi-Wan ended by guiding Fox into the seat Jaster had expected him to take at his side, and making Seventeen move down one so he could sit between the two clones.
Jaster was a little surprised at how much he missed being able to brush elbows with the jedi, especially since they hadn't shared that many meals, and even fewer where they could sit next to each other, but ade-even adult ade-had to come first.
After lunch, Obi-Wan somehow managed to successfully convince the crowd of Alphas who had tracked them down, that it would be better to wait until the next day to start learning meshgeroya, when they could actually play, and that spending time in the new quiet recreation rooms was a far better option. So, Jaster spent the next few hours teaching clones how to play strategy games with the board he'd fabricated, while Obi-Wan talked poetry and art with the clones who were interested in giving those pastimes a try. It was a rather unusual way to spend a day, for Jaster, but he found he actually rather liked it, especially when the clones with him learnt the rules well enough to prove themselves to be challenges.
Boba had left in a huff after they'd seen that there would be no more sporting events, so Jaster wasn't particularly surprised to get a comm from Jango about an hour before he would have gone in hunt of food, informing him that Boba had finished what Jango deemed a sufficient amount of classwork for Jaster to come to dinner. So Jaster said his good nights to Fox and Seventeen and the clones he'd been playing with, and made his way to Jango's flat.
Jango was definitely doing better than they had been the night before, but they'd still let Jaster handle food preparation when he insisted, and Boba was ordered to do the clean-up. Jango had clearly heard about the meshgeroya and get'shuk games from Boba, because they'd given Jaster shit about him losing so thoroughly to a jedi (although they admitted, when Boba scampered into the kitchen to refill drinks, that they doubted they would have managed much better; killing jedi they could manage, but beating them in sports was a different headache).
Jaster did ask about pronouns while he was there, and Jango affirmed that he still used masculine pronouns, and Boba was the same, although he'd taken to insisting on neutral pronouns with certain trainers. (Jaster suspected that might have been for the benefit of the clones who preferred non-masculine pronouns, although he kept that to himself.) Jango also helpfully informed Jaster about the pronouns some of the Cuy'val Dar preferred.
Grimly, while Boba was doing the washing up, Jango said, "All of the older clones prefer masculine or neutral pronouns, and they won't specify which unless they've already seen you're willing to follow their preference. There were a couple who preferred feminine pronouns, but they had a habit of vanishing in the night." He rubbed a tired hand over his face. "It took me almost two years to realise that's why the Kaminiise were killing them."
Jaster grimaced into his mug of shig. "Demagolkase."
Jango nodded, something tired and broken in his eyes. "They'd already figured it out, themselves, by the time I realised, and had got in the habit of only ever referring to each other with masculine pronouns around others, so it wasn't like I could do anything about it."
Jaster let the sound of Boba cleaning dishes fill the space between them for a long moment before he, remembering hearing one of the clone baar'ure using feminine pronouns for a younger clone, asked, "What about the younger ones?"
Jango smiled, but it wasn't particularly happy. "Myself and a couple of the Cuy'val Dar I trust have all heard some feminine pronouns, and a lot more neutral pronouns, when the clones don't realise we can hear them, so I know they're there, but their siblings are protecting them, and I haven't gone hunting to find out who answers to what."
Jaster wouldn't be surprised if Jango had kept himself in the dark just so there was no chance he could endanger any of the clones if he slipped; as horrific as the whole situation was, Jaster had seen a number of signs that Jango was doing the best he could for his clones, under the circumstances. Jango's various attempts to insist than the clones weren't his ade seemed as much an attempt to protect them, as it was to protect Jango from admitting that what he was forcing them to suffer was beyond cruel.
Jaster stayed long enough to help tuck Boba in, then left Jango to get himself to bed.
Once again, he found Obi-Wan still up in their sitting room with Tyranus' datapad. As interested as he had been for sex earlier, the conversation with Jango was weighing on him, and so Jaster removed his beskar'gam in the bedroom, then came out to sit on the sofa next to Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan sat the 'pad down. "Jaster?"
Jaster dropped his face into his hands and tiredly admitted in Mando'a, "I don't know what to do. A couple of days ago, they were only fourteen, and now they're an adult and they've spent a decade looking the other way as horrific things were done to their children."
Obi-Wan didn't react obviously enough for Jaster to notice it for a moment, then he sighed and wrapped an arm around Jaster's shoulders. "I wish I had an easy answer for you," he murmured, sounding as tired and heartsore as Jaster felt. "Do they at least recognise their actions were wrong?" he asked, sounding uncertain, like he didn't know whether or not that was a question he should ask. And then, spoken in a bit of a rush, he added, "That would always be the first step, for a jedi. Recognising that your actions were wrong."
"Denial helps no one," Jaster murmured.
"Yes."
Jaster debated for a moment, then admitted, "They gave me their ka'rta beskar," not completely certain Obi-Wan would know the significance, since it seemed there wasn't, technically, a Mand'alor when he would have been immersed in the culture, and declaring someone dar'manda-taking their beskar'gam from them, determining whether or not they could earn their soul back through some form of penitence, and saying whether or not they had done so-technically fell to the Mand'alor, although clan heads could take the task on in the absence of a Mand'alor, be it temporary or permanent.
Obi-Wan sucked in a sharp breath, however, stiffening against Jaster's side, and whispered, "Will you let them earn it back?"
Jaster smiled grimly down at his hands. "I shouldn't," he admitted, because the things Jango had done-had allowed to happen to the millions of ade in his care-were...so beyond what Jaster would have forgiven from anyone else.
"But they're your child," Obi-Wan murmured like he understood the dilemma.
Jaster swallowed. "Yes. And they chose this path, to declare themself dar'manda."
Obi-Wan was quiet, again, for a couple of minutes, like he was thinking, and then he said, in Basic, "Jedi younglings are raised in crèche clans, with between five and fifteen other younglings of a similar age who age at the same rate. There was, in my clan, another boy, human, who was only a couple of months my junior. We...didn't get on-he was a bit of a bully, I'm afraid, and I was his favourite victim."
Jaster glanced up and found that Obi-Wan was wearing a small, sad smile.
"I spent about a year out of the Temple, at the start of my padawanship, and during that time he...met my master's former padawan, the one who Fell. Who enslaved me," he added, and while he almost sounded calm about that, Jaster could see a flash of something-grief or anger or fear-in his pale eyes. "Xanatos convinced Bruck to help him attack the Temple."
Jaster couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath, because the thought of a jet'ad attacking the Jet'yaim was like a Mando'ad attacking their own clan home or school, he thought.
Obi-Wan nodded. "It was...bad. Bruck was a bully, but I never would have thought he would endanger younglings, or trap another of our crèchemates under water, but he did." Obi-Wan looked over and met Jaster's eyes, his pale eyes grim. "That's what the dark side does, Jaster. It twists who it touches, turns them into the worst of themself."
Jaster took a moment to breathe, to consider what Obi-Wan had said, and what he hadn't said. "The jet'ad, Bruck. What happened to him?" Because, if he was understanding Obi-Wan right, he was saying that, perhaps, Jango had been twisted by Tyranus.
Obi-Wan looked away, mouth going tight. "We fought, and he died," he said grimly.
Jaster closed his eyes.
They were both silent for a long few minutes, leaning against each other and breathing.
And then Obi-Wan whispered, "I want to believe that, if he'd survived, we could have helped him. That we could have found a mind healer, and maybe a knight would have stepped forward and offered to take him on, to raise him past Xanatos' poison. But I was too desperate to save Bant, and we were both too young, too angry, to choose to speak, instead of fight."
He shifted, straightening and pulling away from Jaster so he could turn to face him. "Jaster, I didn't mean that to douse your hopes, I'm sorry." He shook his head. "Fett is...not a jedi. He's got only the barest connection to the Force," he added with a strained, slightly crooked smile. "I cannot...begin to guess what Count Dooku might have done to him, for the sake of his cooperation, or what the long-term effects might be.
"But, I can say that he has no real connection to the Force; his anger and self-deprecation aren't feeding the dark side, aren't further poisoning his mind. He acknowledges his misdeeds, and wants to do better, to make up for them, I think? That is healing, of a sort. A first step, at least.
"He's- Fett is strong. He broke Dooku's hold on his mind on his own. If there's anything else left-any compulsions or memories that were tampered with-I believe he will manage to work through them on his own."
Jaster sighed and managed a tired smile. "I know. But watching him struggle will...hurt." Especially since Jaster knew it was his duty to declare whether or not Jango had made amends for the crimes that had stripped his soul.
"I know," Obi-Wan agreed quietly. "All that you can do, in the end, is be there when he needs you. Remind him you're still there, that you still love him and you believe in him, even when he doesn't believe in himself. And," he added, voice going dry, "yell at him when he starts wallowing. Pick him up, toss him in the 'fresher, and turn on the freezing water, if you have to."
Jaster barked out a startled laugh. "Have some experience with that?" he had to ask.
Obi-Wan shook his head, the corner of his mouth turning up. "One of my very dearest friends went through a rough patch. I requested an extended Temple rotation so I could be there when he needed me. His master had to take on his padawan, who had her own trauma to work through, so it had to fall to me to be his support," he added a bit tiredly.
Jaster smiled at that. "So you're saying I can turn to you for help?" he couldn't quite stop himself from asking.
Obi-Wan shrugged, smile going crooked. "Fett isn't going to want my assistance, and I don't know how he'd react to discovering I had anything to do with his recovery, but I'll be here for you, at least so long as the Council doesn't need me elsewhere."
Jaster resisted a grimace at the reminder that Obi-Wan's own duties could take him away at any moment, and leant in to brush a kiss against his crooked smile. "I can work with that."
Obi-Wan hummed and returned a quick kiss of his own. "Ready for bed?" he asked.
Jaster smiled, finding it much easier to return to the teasing of that morning, his concerns for Jango eased. "I seem to recall an offer to soothe my bruised pride, Ob'ika."
Obi-Wan let out a slightly startled-sounding laugh. "So I did," he agreed, and they retreated to the bedroom to see to that.
Jango joined them in the latter half of the morning, the next day, while Jaster and Obi-Wan were walking the Alphas who had volunteered themselves through a trial game of meshgeroya. Jaster probably wouldn't have noticed him-he and Obi-Wan had agreed to be on the field with the clones for the first 'game', and he'd been in the middle of showing Stec a better way to kick the ball-except Boba had come along with, and chose to start shouting insults about their playing skills. Or lack thereof.
When Jaster had looked over to tell off the heckler-he had a suspicion who it was, because Boba was the only clone allowed near Obi-Wan whose voice hadn't yet broken-he found Jango dropping a hand to his ad's head and leaning down to whisper something to him.
"Nuh-uh," Boba replied without any attempts to moderate his volume. "I'm not allowed to train with them, I'm too little," he'd said like it was a fact.
Jango glanced up, looking tired, and met Jaster's eyes, something almost pleading in his own.
Jaster smiled. "Ah, but this isn't training, Bob'ika," he pointed out, and Jango's mouth twitched, while Boba blinked, clearly confused. Jaster turned back to his team. "Would any of you be willing to switch out with Boba, so he might have the chance to play?"
They traded looks, and then Nate smirked and looked right at Boba when they said, "I'd be happy to let our kih'ori'vod have my spot."
"But I'm too little!" Boba insisted as Jango gave him a shove forward.
Jaster raised an eyebrow. "If your vode's playing is so terrible you feel the need to comment on it, then it's only fair you have the chance to show them how it's done."
"But I-" Boba looked between Jango, Jaster, and where Nate was returning to those clones who had decided to serve as an audience. "I've never played!" Boba declared.
"Then this is a good time to learn," Jaster replied evenly. "Come along."
"Buir," Boba whined in the exact same way Jango so often did.
Jango hummed and cocked his head. "Mando'ade answer their Mand'alor when they are called," he said.
Boba slumped and trudged over to join Jaster, the picture of dejection.
The Alphas went easy on him-Jaster couldn't say if it was out of fear of any potential retribution from Jango, or because they honestly did feel bad about Boba's limitations-and they lined him up to make one goal, to his clear delight.
When Obi-Wan got called to the comm centre, Jaster shooed Boba to sit in the makeshift stands, and tapped Jango to assist him as a referee while the clones who hadn't got a chance to play and wanted to, switched out with the teams who could use a break.
"The Kaminiise never would have let them have something like this," Jango murmured in Mando'a, once the new game had got started.
Jaster gripped his shoulder in one hand and gave a gentle squeeze. "They no longer get a say. The only one who can put a moratorium on fun, now, is Baar'ur Gilamar."
Jango's mouth quirked. "Don't tell them, or they'll let it go to their head."
Jaster chuckled, then glanced over when he heard Boba start yelling insults again. But they weren't about his vode's skills, but about their appearances, and Jaster had heard enough of the clones insult each other's appearances to assume it was very much considered a joke among them. When a couple of the other clones in the stands joined in, while a couple of the players yelled insults back, Jaster shook his head and decided he wasn't getting involved.
Jango just sighed, looking resigned. "Unfortunately," he muttered, "reminding the Alphas I'm in hearing range, has never once got them to stop."
Jaster laughed outright at that, and while he didn't say it, he definitely thought, 'You reap what you sow.'
Chapters One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Glossary
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