Chapter Text
“Captain Typho, I presume?”
The security officer jerked to attention, visibly uncomfortable at having been caught to all intents and purposes napping. Although given how his day had gone so far, that was utterly excusable. The antechamber of his employer’s Senatorial offices was probably not the most comfortable of places to relax, but almost certainly qualified as safe for the time being. And the new arrival was a Jedi. Typho relaxed his shoulders minutely and struggled out of the armchair.
“Indeed. I assume you are the Jedi detail?” He glanced surreptitiously over the young man’s shoulder. “I must admit I hadn’t expected a single person.”
The Jedi sighed. “It will probably not come as a surprise to you, Captain, that our forces are stretched a little thin during this time of unrest in the Galaxy… but I will be happy to assure you on behalf of the High Council that I will perform my duties with the utmost dedication and skill.” He sketched a bow.
“I can’t help noticing you wear the apprentice braid.” Typho’s eyes narrowed, and the Jedi smiled at his counterpart’s perspicacity.
“True,” he countered. “Though I assure you that that will not be the case for very much longer if this assignment is a success. It may even be,” he added with a conspiratorial whisper, “that this is the last thing I do as a Padawan Learner.”
“Very well.” Typho knew when to stop pressing a point, and this seemed to be it. If the Jedi saw fit to send him an apprentice, then he’d better accept if he didn’t want to risk being left with no outside assistance.
“If it’s any help,” the Jedi added softly, “I requested to be sent on this assignment. The Senator and I have met before.” There was that smile again, and Typho had to force himself to keep his own lips in check to stop himself from answering it while he racked his brain for any Jedi in the Senator’s history. He’d only taken over his post recently so it should all still be fresh in his mind, except it had all been reading and none of it had involved smiling braided Jedi staring at him.
“Kenobi…?” he hazarded, and the Jedi’s smile split into a grimace.
“Master Kenobi sends his regards,” the young Jedi assured him smoothly. “He hopes to join us as soon as his own duties allow. For now, you will have to make do with his humble apprentice.” Another bow, this one not entirely devoid of irony. “Anakin Skywalker at your service, Captain.”
Typho swallowed. “Very well. You’ll want to see the Senator, I assume?”
Anakin raised his eyebrows. “She is still working?”
Typho nodded. “We’ve all been a bit rattled by this morning’s incident. It’s not often that you find yourself in the center of an explosion upon arrival. At least not... in times of supposed peace.”
Anakin nodded. He had almost certainly seen more action in his young life than the Captain of the Naboo Security Volunteers. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he offered gently, with a slight touch of Force behind it.
Typho sighed gratefully. “She didn’t suffer. Ripped her lungs right to shreds and stopped her heart. Still… she was a valuable aide, and… Gods, it makes me furious that we even need to employ decoys in this line of work. I mean… a fucking Senator from a backwater world such as ours? What… I mean, what other than mindless terror can you gain from an attack like that?”
“That is partly what I am here to find out.” Typho knew he shouldn’t feel so relieved at finding a fellow security professional’s hand on his shoulder but he did, and he leaned into the touch gratefully as the Jedi continued in soothing tones. “If you would like to stick around until the Senator is ready to speak to me, that’s fine. Otherwise… it looks like you could use some sleep.”
Was that another Force suggestion? Typho couldn’t be sure any longer. The pool of stale adrenaline in his system was deepening by the minute, calling him, enticing him to let himself fall into the welcome arms of sleep.
“I suppose,” he said weakly. “Hold on.” He hit a button on the comm unit on the deserted desk that would have been staffed by a Senatorial aide during normal business hours. “Senator Amidala?”
The voice on the other end of the line sounded weary but alert. “Yes, Captain?”
“Your Jedi security detail is here. Permission to retire?”
“Granted.” A warm sigh. “I shouldn’t be far behind you… I’m just finishing off. Let them in, and I’ll see you in the morning, Captain. Thank you.”
Typho briefly debated the wisdom of informing the Senator that the Jedi security detail consisted of a single Jedi but thought better of it. She had eyes to see. And perhaps, just perhaps, this single Jedi would look like more in her eyes. Seeing as they apparently had history.
“I’ll excuse myself,” he said wearily, gesturing at the door to Senator Amidala’s office. “It’s unlocked now, and she’s expecting you.”
“Thank you,” Anakin said simply. “Good night.”
The door opened at a slight push of his hand; mechanical, not electronic, as befitted the ancient nature of the Galactic Senate. The office seemed to be a standard Senatorial chamber, consisting of large amounts of unused space designed to intimidate or at least impress; at this hour of night, the tall ceilings and cavernous space served only to show off Coruscant’s unsteady nightly shadowplay as traffic flitted by outside the large bank of windows. The only source of light in the room was suspended above a large desk in the far corner of the room, illuminating a state-of-the-art secure communications terminal, a series of portable comm and file storage devices, and an earnest young woman with severely pulled back hair dividing her attention between them, punching a message into a handheld while monitoring whatever was on the larger screen mounted on her desktop array.
“Apologies, Master Jedi. I will be with you shortly. Have a seat if you can find one in this dim cavern.” Her voice was warm despite the edge of weariness. From what Anakin had been told in his hurried briefing, the Senator had watched her lookalike aide die in her arms only hours before. The fact that she was even working betrayed a strength worthy of a Jedi.
She was also, even in light of her recent trauma and in light of the terrible overhead desk lamp, a beautiful human being.
“Not a Master yet,” Anakin said lightly, hoping to add a little levity to the Senator’s trying day. “Your chief of security grilled me on that already. But I think you of all people might have a pretty good handle on what senior Jedi apprentices are capable of.”
The Senator looked up with a slight frown, clearly trying to make out the face of the lone Jedi stationed at the far end of her chambers. He did her the favor of stepping forward into the cone of light cast by her desk lamp. “Padawan Anakin Skywalker at your service, your Excellency.”
“Ani… I mean, Anakin? You?” She almost dropped her portable comm in her hurry to get up and get a closer look. “My goodness. You’re a fully grown Jedi!” She shook her head, suppressing a laugh. “I’m sorry. Listen to me cooing like some doting grandmother.”
“You’ve had a trying day,” Ankin replied warmly. “And I’m sorry for your loss, Senator.”
“Please, call me Padme. If you will. For old time’s sake.”
“With pleasure. And I will answer to Anakin.” A light wince. “Not Ani though… I’ve outgrown that one.”
“Indeed you have.” She allowed a smile of pure joy to flit across her features. “Goodness, it’s good to see you again. I’d been wondering about you from time to time, you know… but never enough to actually track down Master Kenobi and make enquiries.”
“He sends his regards,” Anakin replied. “And he probably wouldn’t tell you this but he’s done a stellar job making sure I don’t go completely rogue. I should be ready for my Knighting by the end of the year. Sooner if this assignment goes well.”
“That’s wonderful, Anakin! And I never would have doubted your allegiance to the Light and narrow… not with Master Kenobi to watch your every step.” She grinned. “I think things might have gone a little easier for both of you if Master Jinn had lived, no?”
Anakin snorted. “You don’t know the half of it, Sen… I mean, Padme.” He paused dramatically, waiting for the Senator’s full attention. “We are currently living with roughly 168% of Qui-Gon Jinn, plus or minus a few depending on fluctuations in the Force.”
“What?” Padme shook her head. “You’re kidding me.”
“Not one bit,” Anakin replied lightly. “Master Jinn has taken to showing up in… well, ghost format for want of a better word. Master Obi-Wan can see and hear him, and I suspect he can probably touch him too.” He grimaced. “I try not to think about that part too much. Anyway, I can talk to him too if I focus, and so can Master Yoda. And, obviously, Irdak.”
“Irdak?”
“The other 68%.”
“Of…?”
Anakin grinned. “Picture, if you will, a genetically engineered clone consisting of 68% Qui-Gon Jinn and 32% Zabrak cell cultures. Now picture him about two years older than me, even more of a trouble magnet than me, covered in tattoos, and… oh yeah, he’s Master Obi-Wan’s boyfriend.”
The Senator gaped.
“Master Obi-Wan has really gotten good at dealing with two rogue droid mechanics in his little disaster family. And two portions of Jinnian stubbornness.” Anakin shrugged. “I think we’ve made him a better Jedi by virtue of just existing in his general orbit. The amount of internal negotiation is quite staggering.”
“You… but… how do the Jedi even allow this?” Padme still hadn’t fully closed her mouth. “I mean, you’re calling yourselves a family? Isn’t that the last thing the Jedi are seeking? Attachment to others?”
“Pretty much.” Anakin shrugged. “I think it helps to have Grandmaster Yoda in your lineage somewhere. And when the Negotiator and his oh-so-gifted apprentice are both threatening to leave the Order over an attachment to a horny bastard who is basically a copy of one of their revered Masters… let’s just say the negotiations were short.”
Padme raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem overly fond of your… brother?”
“Oh, no.” Anakin grinned. “‘Horny bastard’ is an honorific as far as he’s concerned. I mean, he’s got actual horns. And is a crossbreed of two different species. We get along just fine. I’ve taught him most of what he knows about droids, and…” an eloquent shrug. “It’s nice to have an idiot brother around sometimes. Especially one who can loosen up your Master when needed.”
“That is…” Padme swallowed, and Anakin had to suppress a grin at her obvious blush at the idea of Obi-Wan Kenobi being ‘loosened up’ in that way. It was a look he had become familiar with in his years as Obi-Wan’s apprentice, and it never got old.
“Loud,” Anakin added, relishing the deepened blush on the Senator’s delicate features. “And Irdak’s still not very good at controlling his Force abilities. Stuff breaks sometimes when they go at it.” He shrugged. “We’re working on it. I’ve had to construct a whole new level of shielding around my parts lab. I mean, the storage closet in my room. Shit, I should probably have activated the new locking algorithm before I came out here.” He rubbed his forehead. “I imagine things will have been… repurposed by the time I get back.”
“I’m sorry,” Padme laughed. “Do you need to take an emergency trip back to the Temple to… set things in order?”
“Nah,” Anakin replied. “The stuff he comes up with usually makes for good stories. He’s got a bit of a trade going in tattooing droids with nearly pain-free vibroblades. The Zabrak community at Temple doesn’t know whether to love or hate him for that but they’re certainly good customers.”
Padme smiled. “I suspect that part is going to take me a little while to digest, Anakin.” She exhaled deeply, and Anakin wondered whether that was the sound of a years-long crush on Master Obi-Wan collapsing in on itself. “But I am pleased to hear that you are happy, and doing well. And I look forward to meeting your… family when this situation is under control.”
“You plan to stay planetside, then?”
“Certainly.” The steel in her voice was back with a vengeance. “The vote on the creation of a Republic army was only adjourned, not dismissed. All is not lost, and I foresee a lot of work ahead, and not very much time to do it in, if we are to prevent the Republic from sliding into all-out war.” She fixed him with a cool gaze. “My place is here, in service to my people. Here where I have a vote. You may have to follow me around for quite a while, Anakin.”
“It will be an honor,” Anakin replied smoothly. “And a pleasure,” he added with a smile.
***
“Hey, I’m home to wreak havoc… and take a shower. I stink.” Irdak wrinkled his nose at his own armpit and briefly debated unknotting the top half of his work overalls from around his waist and covering his mostly bare upper body with them. Except they were likely to be similarly saturated with the stench of unlawfully superannuated lubricant and a sweaty part-Zabrak attempting to coax the machinery that had spewed said lubricant at him back into functioning.
“Hard day at work?” Obi-Wan hazarded, peering out of the bedroom, uncommonly fully dressed in boots and outer robe.
“I suppose that’s what you get when you insist on not doing customer service ever again. They throw the hard stuff at you.”
Obi-Wan grinned, poking a playful fist at his lover’s bare chest. “And I’m sure it bounced right off you, spice boy.”
“You wouldn’t be able to tell,” Irdak deadpanned. “Zabrak skin doesn’t bruise.”
“I’ll be happy to give you a thorough once-over later tonight,” Obi-Wan quipped. “Council first.”
Irdak frowned. “Seriously? They’re calling you in for an emergency meeting again?”
Obi-Wan shrugged. “New year, same old story. And I suppose as Anakin’s Master I am somehow involved with this whole Senator-of-Naboo situation.”
“Speaking of Anakin… any word from my idiot brother?”
“You mean, our future Knight Skywalker?” The amusement in Obi-Wan’s voice was palpable despite the sharply raised eyebrow. “They appear to have finally found quarters for him at the Senate building, closer to his protectee.”
“Closer? Last time you told me he was sleeping on the floor outside her quarters!”
“His choice, not hers. Anyway, I’m sure he’ll acquit himself most honorably.” A wink. “And yes, he was very happy to see the Senator again. Still…” a sigh. “I don’t expect to see much of him for at least a couple more days, or until the Senator sees fit to leave Coruscant. Dinner for two, it seems.”
He planted a quick kiss on Irdak’s cheek, wrinkled his own nose comically at the smell, and strode out of their quarters to yet another Council meeting.
***
“Kamino, you say?”
“Yes, Master Yoda.” Mace Windu sounded exasperated, which was all that was visible in the dim light, the artificial illumination of the Council chamber having been deactivated in deference to Master Jinn’s faintly glowing presence. “You would probably have enjoyed the atmosphere considerably more than our man on the ground. Or his comm equipment. Anyway, the salient point being that there is in fact an army in production as we speak, and the ones doing the producing are under the impression that they are doing so on behalf of the Jedi.”
“Harrumph. Stopping them, there is not, I take it?”
“Negative,” Windu replied. “We are talking sentient life forms here - boys, not to put too fine a point on it. Accelerated growth or not, these guys cannot simply be ‘stopped’. And even if we manage to avert going to war, we would find ourselves with an army of teenage clones trained in warfare. And precious little else.”
“Good traffic police they would make,” Yoda replied drily. “Need that, Coruscant does.” He sighed. “Joking aside, though… if the Jedi, it was not, then who?”
“And that’s where the plot thickens,” Mace replied grimly. “Master Nendar managed to track an… individual associated with the production to a facility on the planet of Geonosis. From what he was able to intercept without attracting too much attention to himself, it would appear that the Separatists are at the very least aware of this army, or planning some kind of summit in response.”
“All our supposed enemies in one place?” Agen Kolar interjected hotly. “Catch them red-handed, I say! Stop this in its tracks!”
Windu shook his head gravely, not deigning to gratify the most recent appointee to the High Council with a direct reply. If I’d known how much of my troubles would come with horns… He didn’t finish the thought. Outlawing Zabraks was a decidedly un-Jedi-like impulse, and he worried that at least the spectral apparition of Master Jinn would be able to overhear his thoughts.
“We should,” he began slowly after calming his impulses, “consider infiltrating the summit, however. Master Nendar was fairly adamant that there will be good solid evidence of wrongdoing available to use against them and shut them down in a more… legal and permanent fashion. Plans, files, weapons specs.” He rubbed his temples. “Master Nendar was also fairly adamant that he was unlikely to achieve this without attracting undue suspicion.”
“How so?” Agen Kolar clearly wasn’t done with his train of thought.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, Master Kolar, one of the heads of the Separatist faction is one of our own… well, formerly. One of the Lost Twenty. Master Dooku would almost certainly sense a Jedi presence at a kilometer away.”
“So we would have to send a spy. A non-Jedi spy. Surely we can muster that?” Kolar’s frown was tangible, and not just because it had horns.
“Do you have any sugg- oh.”
Windu stopped mid-sentence, and his eyes went wide, comically so in the dim chamber. “You just gave me an idea, Kolar.” The white of Windu’s eyes was joined by the white of his teeth as he grinned broadly. “A non-Jedi spy. Who wouldn’t raise any suspicion with the Separatists. Who could charm his way into anything and not… tie up a valuable Jedi resource.” In deference to Master Kenobi’s presence in the room, he did not say the word expendable, but it was a close call.
“Master Kenobi,” he said sweetly, only a hint of menace in his voice. “I think we may have found a way for your… lover to repay his debt to the Jedi Order.”
“His debt?” Obi-Wan’s voice rang out loudly in the darkened chamber. “Master, I must object in the strongest possible terms. Irdak has been a valuable member of the Temple community since the day he was allowed to join me here after his… initial ordeal. There is no way I will consent to sending him on a spy mission that he is not trained to perform!”
“May I remind you, Master Kenobi,” Windu rejoined softly, “that the fact that he was allowed to join you was one of rather a few exceptions that you have been enjoying? Rather more, in fact, and certainly more novel in nature, than would be the norm for a Jedi of your rank?”
“May I remind you, Master Windu,” Obi-Wan replied hotly, “that you were the one who wanted him out of our lives entirely before he had even regained consciousness? I question your judgment of Irdak’s character, and I reiterate that I will not consent to sending him on this mission!”
“Quiet, you will be,” Yoda interjected, surprisingly quietly. “Someone else, we should ask, hmm?”
“We are not pulling Irdak into this!” That reply had come, simultaneously, from Obi-Wan and Mace Windu, though worded slightly differently and for entirely different reasons.
“Harrumph.” Yoda waited for the general commotion to die down, then said gently, “Master Jinn, your opinion I would like to hear. Close to both sides of this mission, you are.” Yoda closed his eyes and opened his ears wide, and those in the Council Chamber attuned enough to Qui-Gon’s presence did the same.
//I will not presume to have any insight into the man who was once my Master,// Qui-Gon said gravely. //And I certainly share the feelings of the man who was once my apprentice.// A warm blue glow directed at Obi-Wan. //I have only one thought to contribute to this discussion, and that is that even if we were to send Irdak on a spying mission of any sort, successful or not, there is no universe in which that would not result in both Master Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker setting heaven and earth in motion to go after him.//
“Defeat the purpose, that would.” Yoda decreed. “Family, they have become.” A deep sigh. “Good for them, it has certainly been. Not so good for our plans.”
“Can we ask Master Nendar for advice on local resources?” Obi-Wan cut in. “While we activate our own contacts within City Security and the various civilian agencies, I mean? Surely it can’t be impossible to find someone who is capable and willing to work for the Jedi without being one?” The relief in his voice was audible, and it had somewhat opened the floodgates. “I mean, I will be happy to rope in Dex and his unofficial network if it helps…”
“If it helps,” Mace replied sourly. “We don’t have much time. According to Master Nendar’s information, the summit participants are already on their way so we have forty-eight hours at best until we need to have someone on the ground. Someone invisible. Someone trained in customer service.” The barbs cut, but Obi-Wan forced himself to keep his composure.
Seeing Qui-Gon place a ghostly hand on Mace’s tight shoulder helped relieve the tension a bit.
//Let us all evaluate our options and reconvene when we have done so.//
“Mid-day tomorrow,” Yoda said decisively. “Homework, we have. Adjourned, the meeting is.”
***
“You talked about me?” Irdak frowned over a forkful of mashed gourd loaded with an unholy amount of assorted dairy products. “What have I done now to deserve the Sithdamned Council’s attention?”
Obi-Wan smiled. “Fed one of the Order’s more renowned swordsmen a dinner that is apt to make him collapse in a food coma, mostly.”
“I have ways and means of making you burn off those calories,” Irdak replied with a smirk. “Just saying.”
His expression sobered. “No, seriously though. What’s stuck in their collective craw this time? Did Master Set complain about my performance? Because I certainly haven't heard any complaints that would be High Council material. And I’ve been keeping myself from getting kidnapped or going on unsanctioned missions of self-discovery for almost a year now. Surely that’s worth a commendation from the Council for acting like an adult?” He shoved another forkful in his mouth and glared at Obi-Wan in lieu of the shadowy Jedi at the top of the central spire who were, it seemed, once again intent on making his life difficult.
Obi-Wan couldn’t help smiling at his lover’s righteous indignation. “Actually, they were considering sending you on a mission. Count yourself lucky that Master Jinn and I interceded on your behalf and saved you from being Master Windu’s glorified cannon fodder.”
“I... what kind of mission?” For a moment, wide-eyed and smooth-skinned, Irdak looked so much younger than his twenty-one standard years. “I mean, obviously I’m a lover, not a fighter. And I fix droids.”
“Most of all, you’re not a Jedi,” Obi-Wan replied. “That was the linchpin of the story. I’ve told you about the Separatist faction forming in the Outer Rim, right?”
“The ones led by Master Jinn’s old Master?”
“The same. They are gathering forces - well, heads anyway, for some sort of summit on Geonosis.”
Irdak’s eyebrow quirked up. “You’re not supposed to tell me this, I’m fairly certain.”
“I imagine top secret classification no longer applies when you were the one they were going to chew up in this one,” Obi-Wan replied bitterly. “Anyway, Windu who’s always had an issue with your presence here bald-faced suggested that you should be the one to saunter into Count Dooku’s lair and extract whatever information you could from the assorted summit participants. Purely because you’re not a Jedi and because you’re trained in customer service.”
Irdak mulled this over for a bite or two, then replied quietly, “That, Obi-Wan, is putting it mildly.”
Obi-Wan blinked.
“I would agree that that is my one great talent.” He shrugged. “Not being a Jedi. Being sociable. Not looking like anyone of importance. Slipping in. Seducing, even.” A pale blunt finger shot up to forestall Obi-Wan’s reply. “You of all people should know that.”
Obi-Wan shook his head angrily. “I can’t believe you’re even suggesting that.”
“Obi-Wan. Love. This is the only way I can help our cause, and I can’t blame the Jedi for finally agreeing with me. I feel… a little flattered actually.”
“Well, it’s no matter,” Obi-Wan replied decisively, “because you’re not going on any solo mission any time soon. I won’t have it.”
Irdak frowned, a forkful of mash halfway to his mouth, forgotten. “Since when do you get to decide for me?”
“I didn’t say you weren’t going on any mission, did I?” Obi-Wan’s smile was tinged with a slight bitterness, but the laugh lines around his eyes crinkled with mirth. “Damn, I wish I hadn’t started the conversation this way because I think you’re going to like what I have to say next.”
“Oh?” Irdak’s lips thinned, dinner forgotten. “Hit me. Zabraks don’t bruise.”
Obi-Wan shook his head, snorting. “We are due to leave on a mission to Rodia tomorrow night. And yes, we means you and I this time. Anakin will be on bodyguard duty for the Senator from Naboo for quite a while longer, plus he’s about ready to take the Trials anyway so it makes sense to let him make his own decisions for once.” He paused for as much of a brilliant smile as he could muster. “And I’ve managed to pull rank and get you assigned to a tech position on my ship. You’re coming with me.”
Irdak’s eyes went wide, and before he knew it, Obi-Wan found himself with a lapful of very eager tattooed limbs, hands buried in his long hair, and a mouth that appeared intent on separating his lips from the rest of his body.
“So you approve of this plan?” Obi-Wan said when he was finally allowed to come up for air.
“It’s a fine fallback solution,” Irdak smirked. “And I get to make sure you don’t run away.” He circled Obi-Wan’s neck with a finger, mimicking a collar, before running his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair. When he tightened his broad hand into a fist and pulled, Obi-Wan went willingly, exposing his throat to the eager mouth of his impossible lover.
“Shame you’re so obviously a Jedi, actually,” Irdak murmured between kisses and nips, “I could picture some delightful undercover options for you. That head of ginger hair… braided nicely… oh, and nothing else in terms of clothing to distract from the lines of your awesome body… people would forget about Incredible Irdak in a heartbeat.”
Obi-Wan found his dismissive snort summarily swallowed by a pair of insistent lips, and he could not bring himself to mind that at all.