FIC: Haat'Mand'alor be Yaim'ol ~ Star Wars ~ Obi-Wan/Jaster ~ Mature ~ Chapter 4/10

[batsutousai]

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 One



Baar'ur Gilamar was extremely unimpressed to find them sharing a bed when they came to check on all of them, and sounded especially sour when they admitted, after some poking and a couple of tests, that both of them were well enough to leave the infirmary.

Seventeen had already been awake and returned to their self-designated guard position just inside the door when Gilamar woke them, and they kept shooting them considering looks, though their mouth twitched and they quickly looked away when Jango muttered, "At least they're wearing clothing, this time."

Jango, during his own round of poking and tests, admitted that he still had a headache, and getting up to use the fresher left him obviously dizzy.

"I can't find any cause," Gilamar snarled once Jango had made his unsteady way into the 'fresher and slammed the door behind himself, in response to Seventeen offering their help in a too-sweet tone that had clearly been designed to tweak Jango's temper.

"I doubt you will," Obi-Wan replied, voice low and soothing.

Gilamar spun to face them and demanded, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Obi-Wan held up their hands in a placating manner. "Based on what Ser Fett said while we were facing off against Count Dooku, I suspect he's managed to break through at least part of whatever block the count had placed on his memories. Having a headache is not unheard of, in those fighting against Force tampering, and I expect the dizziness is related. Otherwise, it's due to the manner in which the count affected his memories, or the sheer amount of memories that returned to him."

"Force nerf-shit," Gilamar muttered, clearly disgusted. "Is there any way to help?"

Obi-Wan grimaced and shrugged. "Rest and time, I'm afraid. If we had a jedi mind healer here, and Ser Fett was willing, they might be able to ease any lingering damage. Unfortunately, the Order, as it currently stands, has very limited understanding of the damage a sith is capable of. But, from what I've read, that he's awake and aware of his surroundings is a very good sign, and he should recover on his own, so long as he doesn't push himself."

"He won't push himself," Jaster said flatly, before glancing towards the fresher door and calling, "Will you, Jan'ika?"

The 'fresher door opened and Jango glowered at him for a moment. When Jaster narrowed his eyes at his ad, Jango looked away and agreed, "No, Buir."

Gilamar grunted, sounding unconvinced. "If I send you back to your flat, will you rest? Put something on for Boba to watch and take a nap with him."

"Maybe," Jango muttered.

"I need to check on some things," Jaster said, "but I'm happy to join you both in a couple of hours."

Jango perked up, at that. "We can do that. Bob'ika would love to spend time with you."

Jaster suspected that Boba wasn't the only one who would enjoy him visiting, but he kept that thought to himself.

Jango shot Obi-Wan a suspicious look. "You're not invited."

Obi-Wan smiled and folded their hands together inside the sleeves of their outer tunic. "Nor would I expect to be. I'm sure I can find something to amuse myself with." They glanced at Seventeen. "Perhaps I'll visit the clones who have had their chips removed."

"I'll have to make sure no one else is visiting," Seventeen grumbled by way of agreement.

"Delightful," Gilamar said, voice dry. "Jango, gather your beskar'gam, and I can carry it while I escort you to your flat."

Jango grimaced, but slowly moved to do as he'd been told without arguing.

"Alpha," Gilamar continued, looking at Seventeen, "I doubt anything less than a stun bolt is going to get you back into a bed, but I want you sitting or lying down whenever possible."

"I am fine," Seventeen snapped.

"Of course you are," Obi-Wan agreed with a smile that somehow looked like a trap, to Jaster. By the way Seventeen stiffened, they thought the same. "But, save for the miniscule chance that someone might find a way to activate your vode's chips, or the second sith managing to cross the galaxy in a day, everyone is safe; there's no reason to push yourself and endanger your own health."

"Listen to your own advice, jare'la alor!" Seventeen snapped.

Obi-Wan inclined their head. "I promise not to do anything more strenuous than walking around today."

Seventeen let out a grunt, then muttered, "Fine. I'll sit if there's a chair available. Tion'jate?" they added, with a glare for the baar'ur.

"I am beside myself with pleasure," Gilamar replied flatly, before they grabbed the bag Jango had put his beskar'gam in. "If I see any of you in here or the main infirmary again before the week is out, I'll sedate you and tie you to your bed."

"Kinky," Obi-Wan said, and then flushed bright red when they all turned to look at them. "Ah. I apologise, Baar'ur. I'm afraid one of my friends uses that line rather...more often than he should in mocking another friend of ours, who is a healer."

Jango and Jaster both snorted, while Gilamar asked, "And does your healer friend know of this mocking?"

Obi-Wan coughed and stroked a hand over their moustache and beard. "Oh, yes. Quin's been doing it since we were padawans. Bant has, actually, resorted to tying him to a bed in the Halls a time or six." They hummed. "Well, and gagging him, since Quin will then proceed to shout lewd suggestions loud enough for everyone else in the Halls to hear."

"They're both jedi?" Seventeen asked, looking a little like they'd just been told something impossible.

Obi-Wan nodded. "Bant is one of the most accomplished jedi healers in Temple, and will likely be granted her mastery within the next couple of years, and Quin was granted his mastery...oh, it's nearly been a year, now."

Gilamar grunted. "A gag is a good idea," they announced, then caught Jango around the shoulders and slowly turned him towards the door. "Come on, let's make sure Boba didn't get into anything while you were here."

Jango let out a sigh that reminded Jaster of his own struggles with raising an ad who was prone to getting into anything and everything he could, and let the baar'ur lead him out.

Jaster smiled at that, glancing at Obi-Wan. "I'd like to check on the status of the attempts to slice into Tyranus' comm and that other datapad."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I would, as well. And I would like to see if I can set up a secure line to the Jedi Council, so I don't have to keep going outside and standing in the rain any time I need to contact them."

"I'll take you both to the main comm hub," Seventeen said. "They should know where whatever team is handling the slicing is."

"And they should be able to outfit you with a comm device of some sort," Jaster told Obi-Wan. "Jango gave me the comm codes for everyone I might need to contact here; it would be nice to be able to reach you, in case we have any more visitors."

Obi-Wan hummed and nodded. "I do have a comm," they admitted, and pulled a small, flat, ovular object from one of their belt pouches, "but it hasn't been able to connect to whatever network Kamino is running on."

"We'll see about fixing that or just getting you a new one," Jaster decided, and nodded to Seventeen. "The comm centre, then, if you would?"

Jaster got a little lost on the way to the comm hub, and made a mental note about looking into downloading some sort of map of the city to his buy'ce, so he could have a better idea where he was.

The comm hub was staffed by two members of the Cuy'val Dar, neither Mando'ad, a human or near and a Duros. They clearly had no respect for Seventeen, and didn't have much care for Obi-Wan, but they didn't seem to see anything wrong with Jaster, speaking to him when given the choice of which of them to speak to.

The human or near handled connecting Obi-Wan's comm to Kamino's network, while the Duros-scowling all the while-assisted the jedi in setting up a secure connection to the Jet'tsad.

When the call connected, a young Zabrak formed over the holoimager. "Knight Kenobi," they greeted with clear surprise.

Obi-Wan's mouth twitched. "Padawan Irdara," they returned, and the jet'ad ducked their head. "I was hoping to speak with a member of the Council."

The jet'ad nodded, straightening. "Master Billaba is currently on call, but I've a note that it's permissible to forward any comms from you to Master Windu, if you deem it necessary."

"Master Billaba should be sufficient, for the moment, my dear," Obi-Wan said, their voice warm.

The jet'ad nodded. "It'll just be a moment, then," they promised, and the image fuzzed into static.

"Mace Windu is the current head of the Council," Obi-Wan murmured, almost as though they sensed Jaster's curiosity. "If there was an emergency, he would be able to give orders on behalf of the whole Council, without needing to call them for a meeting."

Jaster nodded in understanding.

The holo's static shuddered, then cleared to reveal a human or near with dark hair worn in two braids looped behind their head. They had what looked like markings or piercings on the bridge of their nose and the lower part of their forehead, which brought to mind a different brand of philosophical mystic that Jaster had met shortly after his banishment from Concord Dawn, who had partially inspired his creation of the Supercommando Codex. They smiled warmly and greeted, "Obi-Wan, it's good to see you dry."

Obi-Wan huffed. "I'm sure you can imagine how grateful I am to be dry."

The other jedi-Billaba, the jet'ad had called them, Jaster recalled-chuckled.

"Hello, Depa," Obi-Wan added, smiling. "I'm mostly comming so the Council has a record of a direct address to Kamino."

Billaba nodded, their expression smoothing out into a calm mask that was similar to the one Obi-Wan had worn while they were meeting the clones the day before. "The line is secure?" they asked.

"I have been assured so. However, I'm not alone."

Billaba raised an eyebrow.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I'm in Kamino's main comm centre."

"I understand," Billaba replied. "Do you have any updates since your last comm?"

Obi-Wan's jaw went tight. "Unfortunately," they agreed, and Billaba straightened, eyes narrowing. "Yan Dooku Fell, and is now dead."

Billaba sucked in a sharp breath, grief flashing across their face. Then they closed their eyes and breathed out slowly. "I see. I'll update the Council, but I'm afraid it will be on you to update Yoda."

Obi-Wan drew in a slow breath, the sound unusually loud in the silence of the comm hub; even the two members of the Cuy'val Dar seemed intent on the conversation, all signs of the dislike they'd worn while interacting with Obi-Wan gone. "It's probably best to come from me," they said quietly. "If his body hasn't already been disposed of, I'll see about holding it in stasis."

"Why?" Seventeen demanded. "They were your enemy, weren't they?"

"Seventeen," Jaster murmured, and shook his head when the clone looked over at him.

"What he was at his death, is not the sum of his life, Seventeen," Obi-Wan replied, voice even. "Yoda was his master-his buir, if you will-and it is only right to let him decide whether the count deserves a jedi burial or not."

Seventeen and the human or near member of the Cuy'val Dar both scoffed, while the Duros frowned and looked down, but none of them gave any further argument.

After a moment of silence, Billaba asked, "How did he die?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "No, I am not twice a sith-killer," they said, something almost sarcastic about their tone, and Billaba's mouth twitched. "Mand'alor Mereel finished him off with-" they cast Jaster a considering look "-sen'laare, I believe?"

"In Basic, Obi-Wan," Billaba ordered, while Jaster smiled behind his buy'ce and inclined his head in agreement.

Obi-Wan gave a quiet cough. "Whistling birds," they said. "Beskar darts fitted with a miniature explosive. They're on the list of restricted weapons in Republic space, but they're expensive enough that it's rare to see them."

"They're not that expensive," Jaster argued.

Obi-Wan glanced back at him with a grimace. "I'm afraid they are, now; what little beskar can still be found in the mines is being used for construction on Mandalore, to keep it from being used to make war."

Jaster couldn't quite stop a snarl at that; as soon as he was assured his bu'ade were freed from both their chips and whatever contracts Jango had formed on their behalf, he was going to have to travel to Manda'yaim and deal with this Evaar'ad 'duchess'.

"Well," Billaba said drily, "reporting to the Senate that a former Mand'alor, who was thought to be dead, killed the head of the Separatist Council should properly distract them for a while."

Jaster frowned, not sure how he felt about his reappearance becoming a matter of Republic record, but Obi-Wan inclined their head, almost as though they approved of the idea. "I leave that issue in the Council's most capable hands, Master Billaba."

Billaba looked rather unimpressed. "Adi is already plotting ways to get you back," they retorted.

"I shall be sure to find excuses to avoid Coruscant for a couple of years," Obi-Wan replied cheerfully. "Thank you for the warning."

Billaba raised an eyebrow. "You would rather she send Tachi after you?"

Obi-Wan's expression briefly twisted with horror, before they managed to wrangle it back into that bland expression they seemed to like. "Ah."

Billaba smiled, and something about it caused a shudder down Jaster's spine. "May the Force be with you, Knight Kenobi."

"Yes, I expect I'll need it," Obi-Wan replied drily, and Billaba's smile widened, turning less threatening. "And also with you, Master Billaba."

They traded short bows, then the holo cut out.

It wasn't until Obi-Wan had retrieved their updated comm, they'd been given directions to where the slicers were working, and they'd left the comm hub behind, that Jaster asked, "What was that about?"

Obi-Wan blinked at him, looking so innocently confused, Jaster knew it had to be an act. "What was all what about?"

"The Jet'alore are up to something, something to do with your senate."

Obi-Wan folded their hands into their sleeves and turned to look ahead, at where Seventeen was leading the way through the halls, and glancing back with that particular glower that Jaster recognised as curiosity. "I have a suspicion about who our other dar'jetii is," Obi-Wan murmured, voice low enough that it was unlikely anyone other than Jaster and Seventeen would have heard, had anyone else been nearby. "If I'm right, they have been very careful for a long time, and uncovering proof enough to convince the whole of the Senate will be extremely difficult. Setting the Senate into an uproar over the return of a proper Mand'alor and the death of part of the Separatist leadership may well mean the success of the investigation team."

"Who is it?" Seventeen asked.

Obi-Wan shook their head and smiled at the clone, though it seemed somehow false. "It doesn't matter."

"Alor."

"There is nothing that we can do about it here, save hope to uncover some proof from Count Dooku's things," Obi-Wan replied. "Focus, instead, on the removal of those accursed chips from your siblings, and deciding what you all might wish to do with your lives, now you won't be fighting in a war."

Seventeen shot Obi-Wan a glare over one shoulder before turning back to watch where they were going. "You're not getting rid of me."

Jaster glanced over and saw Obi-Wan blink a couple of times, expression perturbed. "I...didn't say I was. But, surely, you would much rather-"

"No," Seventeen interrupted, as implacable as a young Jango at his most stubborn. "You're my leader."

"Jedi aren't anyone's leaders," Obi-Wan insisted.

"You're mine."

Obi-Wan turned a slightly desperate look on Jaster, but all he could do was shrug in response.

Seventeen abruptly stopped walking and turned to face them, their expression gone tight and unhappy. "If you don't want me around, tell me, and you'll never see me again," they said, voice strained.

Obi-Wan flinched, and then unfolded their arms and reached forward like they were about to touch Seventeen, withdrawing when Seventeen flinched. "Cyar'ika, nu draar," they breathed, and Seventeen's shoulders loosened, though they still looked unhappy. "That's not-" Obi-Wan huffed, and then continued in Basic, "You've been trained to follow my orders without question, been told all your life that the jedi are your masters. I don't want that future for you, for any of your vode. You deserve the chance to decide what to do with your lives, to discover hobbies you've never had the chance to try, or find your own causes to fight for, not to have to follow me around on diplomatic missions and be bored to tears listening to politicians argue over who insulted whom first.

"It's not that I don't want you, dear one, I just want you to make that choice for yourself, not because you've been told that's what is expected of you."

Seventeen scowled and looked away. "I don't even know what else I would do," they muttered.

Obi-Wan took a breath and nodded. "Well, then, it sounds like we should see about setting up holonet access for you and all your vode, so you can do some research about the rest of the galaxy, and what your other options might be. Perhaps we could see about setting up a garden somewhere in the city, so those interested can try their hands at gardening, and some of the classrooms can be converted to quiet recreation areas, where you can try doing things like learning to paint, or writing poetry."

Jaster slowly let out a breath he hadn't even realised he was holding and smiled. "Those are all good ideas," he agreed as Seventeen relaxed further; they were still scowling, but Jaster had raised Jango, and suspected that was as much Seventeen's default expression as it had been Jango's. "You mentioned you're often sent to mediate conflicts; perhaps, once more of the clones have had their chips removed, you can hold a talk about what's involved in that, and we can see if any of the Cuy'val Dar would be willing to hold their own talks about their lives before they came to Kamino."

Seventeen snorted. "All the trainers are bounty hunters and mercenaries," they said scornfully.

"Ah, but is that all they've ever been?" Jaster returned with a smile. "My buir was a seamstress, Jango's birth buire owned a farm, and Vhonte's buir was a pirate; just because they've made names for themselves as hunters and mercenaries, doesn't mean that's all they've ever known."

Seventeen's expression turned considering and they glanced at Obi-Wan. "What about jedi? What were your parents like?"

Jaster winced, but Obi-Wan smiled and shook their head. "I was given to the Temple very young; in my birth culture, the surname 'Kenobi' is used for those who no longer have a family."

Seventeen's expression tightened with anger. "That's not right."

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Different cultures treat Force-sensitives differently, and the Order becomes our family. I have siblings who are pilots and healers and spies, and I count archivists and gardeners and creche masters and even members of the High Council among my cousins and piblings. My master was one of the most asked-for diplomats, his master was renowned as one of the greatest duellists of the Order, and his master is the current Grand Master of the Order."

Jaster couldn't help but whistle, even though he'd grimaced at the mention of who he knew must have been Tyranus; that certainly sounded like an impressive lineage to claim.

Obi-Wan's eyes glinted and they added, "Of course, my master was also the High Council's constant source of migraines, his master was known as one of the least forgiving masters in the Order, and his master enjoys forcing members of his lineage to eat swamp stew, so there are downsides to every family."

Jaster laughed outright at that, and saw Seventeen ducking their head to hide a grin.

Obi-Wan slowly reached out and rested their hand on Seventeen's shoulder, causing them to look up with a slightly startled expression. "I'm sure the Council will be happy to, at the least, find jedi willing to talk about their various duties and hobbies, if not set up some sort of holo conference, so those of your vode who truly wish to find a place for themselves among the Order will have a better idea of the options open to them."

"That would be...nice," Seventeen agreed quietly. "Thank you, General."

Obi-Wan sighed. "My name is Obi-Wan, dear one; I'm not a general."

Seventeen grimaced, opened their mouth, then closed it and shook their head.

"Or Kenobi," Obi-Wan offered.

"Alor," Seventeen decided, then turned a challenging glare on Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan sighed again. "We'll work on it," they decided, and Seventeen's eyes narrowed.

Jaster chuckled and clapped a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Come, we were going to check in with the slicers. And then, it sounds like you two have some work of your own to do, setting up holonet access points and converting classrooms."

"Meanwhile, you'll be watching holofilms with Boba and Fett," Obi-Wan guessed, tone gone dry.

"I'm afraid I've already promised," Jaster agreed, "but I'll drag Jango along to help out tomorrow, if he's feeling well enough."

Obi-Wan hummed, then nodded to Seventeen and squeezed their shoulder before letting go.

Seventeen grunted and turned back around to continue to lead the way.

A/N: Allow me to give a nod to Ariana Deralte's How a Romance Novel Saved the Galaxy, which is at least two-thirds of the reason I came up with Obi reading Mando romance novels to learn the written form of Mando'a.

Chapters One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten   Glossary
.