Was my robe this pink and fluffy yesterday morning, Mace wondered calmly, while some part of his awfully sleep-deprived brain screamed in horror. Then he shrugged and dragged it over his shoulders anyway, dismissing it as a lingering dream he’d soon wake from, and then have to drag himself through his whole morning routine all over again—this time for real.
The last three days had been entirely surreal as it was: doors sliding back and forth entirely without reason, as if startled by a puff of air; lifts traveling up and down repeatedly between floors without stopping, experimenting with rates, then dropping down to the lowest levels no one had even used in years; the bloody announcement system blaring music at 0300—music that should have died in a Hutt hole on Nar Shadda, for Force’s sake. Council meeting minutes had been committed to datapad by hand, but mission details and rosters were, more often than not, inaccessible.
The commissary food, remarkably, had been much improved. Mace absently considered decommissioning the droids altogether, then wondered if there was any way to preserve whatever particular bug had been spawned in their coding.
Coding. Right.
A few days ago, Tahl had approached the Council with a request to ‘make some changes’ to Temple security, with the assistance of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. They had argued, convincingly, that the system should have been updated years ago—several times, in fact, since Obi-Wan had first hacked it with Tahl’s help at the age of fourteen. Anakin, now twelve, had managed the same in under three hours, entirely unassisted. They also added that if the Council did not allow them to make changes, they’d go ahead and do it anyway, since obviously nothing was stopping them. Eventually they—begrudgingly—owned up to the fact that Anakin’s exploits had not gone unnoticed, and in fact Master Jocasta Nu was out for blood since half of the Archives had apparently winked out of existence (not erased, just temporarily inaccessible, gods only knew why).
The Council had been persuaded by the argument, and assigned a Master-Padawan pair of Shadows to ‘assist’ (to oversee, and possibly control the potentially destructive trio, to mitigate disaster).
The Council really should have considered the character of the Shadows in question; as it turned out, the two could give Tholmé’s entire lineage a run for their money.
No one had heard from all five of them in the last three days—no surprise there, as some had had about as favourable a reaction to the various malfunctions as Jocasta Nu herself. Mace also privately suspected that the Padawans and Initiates had taken advantage of the chaos to unleash a truly wild array of various pranks.
Mace was beginning to think this morning dream was getting a bit too long. He hadn’t run across anyone yet, but no one seemed to notice the robe, or just gave it an arch glance in passing and said nothing. Honestly everything was too blasted normal.
Finally he turned the corner to the residence hall that currently housed the Kenobi-Jinn lineage. Qui-Gon, it appeared, was just stepping out of his quarters as Mace approached, and looked up with some apprehension at the sense of an approaching Council member. Mace was just thinking he ought to find time to pay the man more casual visits when he saw Qui-Gon’s diplomatic mask slam down tightly over his features. Some mischief was surely afoot, then.
“Morning, Qui-Gon,” Mace called. “I’ve been looking for your Padawan and Knight-partner, and one rather tall wily Noorian, is there any chance you might have seen them?”
Qui-Gon coughed lightly. “Mace, what are you wearing?”
Mace stopped, then carefully dared to look down.
Robe. Hot—practically neon—pink. Fluffy.
Alright, so he was awake, then. Finally, someone showed a reasonable reaction.
“Actually, that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to them about,” Mace said, a little too casually. “The laundry looked a bit bright this morning. I wanted to know if the laundry droids had lost their collective sanity, or if Skywalker had somehow managed to release hallucinogens into the water.”
Qui-Gon nodded, like this was the most normal thing he’d heard all year. “Definitely the laundry.”
“That brings me to the second question,” Mace said, looking up again, managing to sound almost plaintive: “why couldn’t it have been purple?”
crack fic? have a crack fic. blame @obaewankenope for crack fic.
Tag: mace windu
What if Mace Picked Obi-Wan because Yoda was trying to Get Qui-Gon to take him. Years later Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are teamed up a lot cause the troll wants Obi as part of his line however he can get him.
This has taken me a bit to get started because of the loss of my grandmother last week. It’s been a tough few months as we lost my grandfather just before thanksgiving, but I really enjoyed this prompt and I plan on continuing on this story, it’s not just a drabble. Thank you for great prompt @demad69
The Philosophy of Lost Chances
“I take Obi-Wan
Kenobi as my padawan learner.” The words echoed through the council chamber as
large gentle hands embraced a small boy’s shoulders. The boy before them was
eleven, not too young to be a padawan, but earlier than most picks. He had been eligible for selection for almost
a year, a year that had been wrought with schemes by one short green meddling
troll. Mace had watched as the grandmaster of their order had manipulated
situation after situation to push a broken man towards a talented young boy. It
was a volatile situation that he had seen play out a thousand times with a
different ending each time, none pleasant for his old friend or the innocent
young man.“Take him you
cannot.” Yoda glanced around the room, his ears raised in contempt.“Take him I will,
if he will have me. This young boy is meant for so much more. We all respect
your words of wisdom, but your feelings of attachment for your old padawan must
be called into question.” Mace stood tall before the council, knowing he was
giving up his council seat, knowing that he was taking on a responsibility that
would change his life. “No one loves Qui-Gon quite like you do, but we all see
what he’s become. We’ve all tried to reach out to the empty shell and breathe
life into him. Yes, this boy may be that life, but at what cost? We cannot push
them together in hopes of bringing back our Jinn just to lose such a spark of
life.”*happy shrieking*
Oh this is so lovely!!
Mace and Boba + “I hate you… but you’re like Dad” AU
The ascendant Empire would pay a fortune in bounties for a Force-user – and Manda only knows just what they’d do for the man who brought in the one-time Grand Master of the Council, the mighty Mace Windu.
Hell, Boba would’ve shot the man on the spot the moment he recognized him if he had been in a less amiable mind, or at least less focused on his income.
And the old Jedi – greyed and grizzled from his hard exile, crude mechanical hand half-rusted from the planet’s acidic rains, seated in a meditative pose and facing the door with his lightsaber laid aside as if he’d expected the bounty hunter’s arrival – certainly seemed prepared to meet his end, and with dignity at that.
But there had been something in the old man’s eyes that had made him lower his carbine. The look that said to Boba that no matter what the hunter dished out, he could take it, because he’d endured far worse and for far longer than Boba could ever imagine.
He’d only seen that look in the eyes of one other being – in those of the father who’d been cut down by the very man seated before him.
“Fierfek, I hate you,” he mutters under his breath, fully aware his helmet’s mic is picking it up, “I hate you so much.”
“And what will you do with that hate, Fett?” comes the surprisingly quiet reply.
He holsters his carbine, and extends a gauntleted hand to the seated man, who takes it without pause or question, and rises somewhat stiffly to his full height – a little more bowed now, but still impressive.
“I’m getting you out of Imperial space. I know people who can get you even further afield than me,” Boba pauses, “maybe even to where some of your other Jedi are hiding out.” He takes Windu’s slight nod as an agreement.
“And I suppose I’m getting a great favor in your mercy, Fett,” Windu says even as he follows Boba down the narrow side streets to the spaceport hangar that currently housed the Slave I.
“Damn right. Because I want to be sure that if anyone is going to kill you, it’ll be me and not some dirt-brained Inquisitor, and not for anything as shallow as Imperial credits.”
“You really are your father’s son,” Windu mutters in reply. Boba pretends not to hear.
Err, is two requests for the one word drabble prompts allowed? Boba Fett & 3 Tired. Mango & 14 Unapologetic (seemed appropriated since you named the ‘Ship.)
You’re too young to be this tired.
Of all the things Boba has had to listen to over and over and kriffing over again since Dad died, those seven words have always been at the forefront.
From Geonosis to Kamino (which he hadn’t been able to stay at long, not after he’d seen the Jedi strutting about like they owned the place) to every scumbag watering hole or jail cell he’d found himself in since, that’s what he always heard.
You’re too young to be this tired.
He doesn’t always hear it from others. In fact, it’s usually himself. It’s when he couldn’t bring himself to move from that arena until the Geonosians tried to take his Dad’s body away.
It’s when he’s eleven lying half-dead from exhaustion in his Dad’s bunk on the Slave I, knowing he needs to get up, knowing nobody is coming to help him, knowing he has to move and live, yet unable to find a reason to do so.
It’s doing nothing but sleeping as soon as he’s out of prison at thirteen.
It’s doing nothing but assignment after assignment from the Hutts, and developing a reputation before he’s even twenty standard.
It’s when he looks in the mirror on his twenty-fifth birthday, and for the first time sees his Dad. The scars are different, so is the hair, but it’s him alright. Boba tries to smile like his Dad used to at him, but he can’t get the look right. He even whispers his own name, straining to hear his Dad in the word, and realizing somberly that he doesn’t remember what Jango Fett really sounded like anymore. Boba can’t bring himself to try to remember for too long after that – it exhausts him.
“You’re too young be this tired,” Boba tells his reflection, before flicking the light off and heading to the nearest cantina.
And now we get to the not-so-depressing Mango prompt! (Best way to get out of a writing funk is to write, no? Fuck passively feeling shitty. I’m doing it *actively* at 4am, dammit.)
*various gasps* Pop can write things that aren’t riddled with angst?! Yeah, she can. She just enjoys that sinking, tummyache feeling she gets in her solar plexus when she reads and/or writes something painful.
~~~~~
When his communicator beeps in the Force-kriffing-take-me wee hours of the morning, Mace doesn’t bother to check the frequency number. Things like this come with the territory of sitting on the Council after all. He slaps his hand on his sidetable until his palm collides with the familiar cold metal of his comm, and brings it to his ear.
“Windu,” he grunts.
“Wow, not even a hello?” A chuckle. “That stings.”
Mace has always had a quick mind, and that fact has only been tempered with time. He’s a patient, thoughtful, and undoubtedly controlled man.
He still nearly bashes his skull into the headboard when he realizes that it’s Jango Fett on the line.
“Jango!”
“Still no hello?”
Mace immediately pulls himself together (while checking the headboard for good measure) and sits up properly in his bed.
“Hello.”
Jango’s familiar chuckle buzzes against his ear again. “You’re pissed, aren’t you?”
When am I not, Mace thinks tiredly, but keeps that to himself. “And you have some explaining to do,” Mace says instead, and adds sarcastically. “Thanks for the apology, by the way. Where the hells have you been?”
“That’s, er, complicated.”
“Complicated *how*?”
“I’m on an assignment, long term. Probably shouldn’t even be calling you, but I thought it was about time. I’ve missed you.”
I’ve missed you, too, Mace thinks, and he means it, despite knowing better. Jedi aren’t supposed to form attachments, but since they aren’t meant to have sex with Jedi-murdering bounty hunters to begin with, or marry them secretly, Mace decides he’s too far gone to give much of a damn on Jedi ideals anyway.
He still won’t say he misses Jango, though. Not until he sees Jango face-to-face.
“Where are you, Fett?”
Jango doesn’t respond for a few moments, just long enough that Mace pulls the comm away from his ear to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. He doesn’t recognize the routing number – wherever Jango had hidden himself away for the last few years, it had to be in the real ass end of nowhere in the galaxy.
Jango’s voice springs back out of nowhere, and he sounds a bit out of breath. Mace swears he can hear faint talking behind him.
Mace’s eyes narrow. “Fett, if you’re recording this–”
“Recording?“Jango sounds genuinely hurt. "Good to see the paranoia is still treating you well, Jedi. Enable your hologram function, would you?” More murmuring, followed by Jango quietly shushing someone.
Mace definitely doesn’t trust this. “Who’s there with you? Are you okay?”
“Turn on the hologram and find out.”
With a put upon sigh, Windu pulls the comm away from his head and presses a button on the side. A miniature rendition of Jango Fett in hologram-blue leaps out of the circular fixture at the end of the comm, and in his arms…
Mace holds the hologram closer to his face, squinting at the curly-haired youngling currently waving at him with a tiny hand. When Mace doesn’t immediately wave back, the child falters and looks over at Jango for guidance, the bounty hunter smiles in a way Mace has never seen. It’s soft. It’s loving.
It’s parental.
“Use your words, Boba,” Jango says, gently, and the child’s brow tightens in concentration, and he looks at Mace once again.
“Hi, oth-oth–”
“Other.”
Boba’s face breaks into a brilliant toothy smile, the kind only the youngest of younglings can make. “Hi, other dad!”
Mace blinks.
“Uh.” Much to his consternation, Mace glances at Jango for what he should do as well. Jango just smiles, eyes squinting into quarter moon shapes, and silently mouths ‘Kamino. Now say hello’.
Kamino. Mace hasn’t heard of it, but he’ll look into it soon enough. First things first, however.
Mace clears his throat, and does his best to smile as unthreateningly as possible. It must work, because the toddler bounces in excitement at his words. “Hi, Boba.”
(Next time: Mace finds out about allllllllllllllll of Boba’s bros and becomes one with the Force for a good ten minutes.)
Star Wars: Ashes and Hope, Part 26
First Part | Previous Part | Next Part
“Not yet. We weren’t going to discuss it until you and Zett were awake.” Padmé smiles a little. “Have you slept at all?”
“Not since we left Polis Massa.” Anakin shrugs, letting go of Padmé’s hand so he can shift Leia to his other arm and rest the one he’d been holding her with. “I’m fine. I can sleep later.”
They give him almost identical looks of skepticism, and Anakin smile, shrugging a little. It’s not like he’s not done without sleep, and even recently. And he had a good long nap on the trip to Polis Massa, anyway.
Padmé’s eyes narrow, and she shakes his head at him, but doesn’t say anything. Yet. Anakin has a distinct feeling she’ll have words for him later.
“Do you know anywhere else that might be safe for us?” Padmé reaches out to touch Leia gently, fingers stroking lightly over her head. “Or do you think your knowledge of the galaxy is too colored by your own?”
“Most of it, probably.” Anakin turns so Padmé can take Leia from him, if she wants to, and she watches him for a long moment before doing so, taking a long moment to settle Leia against her shoulder. Leia snuggles closer, pressing her face against Padmé’s neck. “I spent twelve years on Belkadan, but that’s the far edge of the galaxy. It’s not a place to go unless you’re planning to hide and stay hidden for a long while without any real contact with the rest of the galaxy.”
And for all their need to find somewhere safe to begin from, Anakin is certain neither Padmé nor Master Windu intend to stay hidden longer than it takes for them to get their feet under them, and healing done. For the twins to grow and not be quite so fragile as newborns are. Perhaps for Zett to be comfortably settled in as Anakin’s student.
“Bail did offer to shelter us on Alderaan, but I don’t want to put him at risk if someone comes looking for us. Any of us.” Padmé absently rubs Leia’s back, as if she’s comforting her, gaze turned inward. “Do you think they’d look for us on your homeworld, Mace?”
“Even if they wouldn’t, I don’t know if it would be safe. The Korunnai are all Force-sensitive, and we don’t know what the Sith plan to do about those who are able to sense and use the Force, but aren’t Jedi.” Mace has a troubled expression on his face. “I don’t think they’ll be any kinder to them then they were to us, though.”
“Any planet within the Republic is going to have the same dangers for you and Anakin and Zett.” Padmé shakes her head, pressing her lips together. “So will those who joined the Seperatists.”
“Then somewhere outside what the Republic has claimed.” Anakin prods at the holo-projector a moment, looking for some sort of star-map. “The Unknown Regions, and see how far we can go.”
Mace reached over to take the holo-projector, finding the map faster. “There’s a lot of space there no one knows much about, but it isn’t all uninhabited. I don’t know who is out there, but there are places where ships go missing, and there are no survivors to report back. I’d rather not become another missing ship.”
“Where are we?” Anakin looks over the map. “Mustafar and Polis Massa are both off the Hydian Way.”
“We came out near Eriadu long enough to pick up transmissions on the holo-net.” Padmé traces one of the bright lines on the map as it twists through space. “I took us back into hyperspace as quickly as I could, a short jump back toward Averam, enough to put us between systems.”
Anakin looks over the map, taking a deep breath, and reaching out to the Force, letting his fingers trace over brilliant lines of hyperlanes and pinpoints of systems. “Here.” He enlarges the map on the system his finger has come to rest on, looking over the system it reveals, and the scarce notes. “There’s a single habitable planet here, but it doesn’t look like anyone really has anything to say about it.”
“Chalcedon.” Mace leans in, taking the map back out, tracing along the hyperlane the system is along. “Cerea to Kinyen, and here.” He taps another system. “I thought I remembered this planet. Halm. They have Adegan crystals there.”
Something it would be useful to have extra of, when the twins are older, or even if something happens to the lightsabers they already have. And for Zett to build another lightsaber when he gets older and outgrows the hilt he has now, and possibly the crystals he has as well.
Padmé is silent a long moment before she nods. “We’ll stay there until we’re ready, then.” She turns off the holo-projector before nudging Anakin with her knee, waiting for him to move before she gets up. “If you’ll program the flight path, Mace, Anakin and I have to talk.”
“Of course.” Mace tilts his head, sliding out from the table and leaving them alone in the small lounge.
Waking the Pelekotan
Force!Ghost Mace Windu.
Pelekotan is Korunnai for ‘the Force’ hence the name heh 🙂
@deadcatwithaflamethrower because you need some cheering up and what’s more cheerful than Mace Windu being perpetually done even in death :p
@sanerontheinside, @lilyrose225writes, @maawi, @meabhair, @eclipsemidnight, @ricooola, @kyberpunk – because I mentioned it in chat so ENJOY
.
Being dead –
Mace Windu discovers – is surprisingly dull.
After a lifetime of fighting one battle or another, in meeting rooms or
battlefields – though really, what meeting room isn’t a battlefield? – being dead was supposed to be the grand,
relaxing ride where he could sit back and fade into the Force.Oh Mace, why so salty? 😛
*watching ROTS* But what about an AU where Anakin kills Palpatine when Palps zaps Mace with Sith lightning. Be like “OH SHIT OLD MAN REALLY IS EVIL” and his killer instinct takes over and he just stabs palps in the face with his lightsaber.
I mean Mace would still lose a hand but Anakin would do it before he gets tossed out the window.
“Sorry about your hand Mace”
“Skywalker, where ever the fuck my hand is it’s flipping you off”
Mace’s prosthetic has an “Automatically-flip-skywalker-off” feature, that senses when anakin’s arm is near and salutes him, even if Mace is asleep.
It’s the best feature Anakin’s ever programmed into a machine and actually made Windu guffaw.
YEsssssss! <he can disable it with the force in combat situations though, just in case>
I love this idea.
fic idea
all these posts about hot mess that is Jedi Apprentice Qui Gon Jinn reminded me of a fic idea that was stalking me for some time, and which breed one particularly amusing image:
TCW-era Anakin, having involuntarily time-traveled to past with seemingly no way back, having his mind blown by tiny Initiate Kenobi
even better, the amusing role-reversal of
Yoda: no one to train Obi-Wan, there is. to Corps, he will go.
Anakin: NO YOU CANNOT, HE MUST BE TRAINED
Anakin, with pretty much zero idea about how this mess went down originally, unknowingly tag-teaming Qui-Gon together with Yoda to pester him about taking a Padawan. only to make Qui-Gon more obstinate because imagine how he’d take to this random baby-faced Knight’s meddling when he wouldn’t listen to the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order
(also, Anakin’s attempts at subtle meddling is the most ungraceful thing you can imagine)
i imagine the final confrontation going roughly like
Qui-Gon: I won’t take Kenobi as an apprentice
Anakin: but-but-but he’s go so much potential! he’ll be a great Jedi!
Qui-Gon: well if you think so then why won’t you take him as a Padawan? hah. check and mate.
and he saunters off, leaving gobsmacked Anakin there, who’s all ‘fuck fuck i fucked up’ because as far as he knows, he’s the only different thing about the situation, so logically him being there somehow made Qui-Gon not want to apprentice Obi-Wan
so while he can stand around and continue being “QUI-GON WHAT THE FUCK”, he’s got to fix this somehow asap because Obi-Wan must be trained
and that’s why he turns around (full of indignant ‘WELL QUI-GON MAYBE I WILL’), and immediately asks Obi-Wan to be his Padawan.
hilarity ensues.
There is a very evil part of me that wants to see an Anakin-trained Obi-Wan meet canon Obi-Wan.
It could be hilarious or disastrous, depending on several factors, mainly how old is the alternate Obi-Wan. Right now, I have only vague ideas about what kind of person he’d end up being. They would blow each other’s mind either way.
Anakin’s Master is probably this mysterious, wise abstract figure to alt!Obi-Wan, bc Anakin would definitely go “MY Master used to say…” every time he had to lecture him about something, and he always looked so smug about it. Well, now he knows what was so amusing to Anakin. Sooo clever, having him lecture himself in a roundabout way.
Canon Obi-Wan would probably discover his counterpart has some very… unique ideas about Jedi philosophy, at the very least.
It so weird. And awkward. But mainly weird.
Anakin goes to lie down somewhere. That much concentrated Obi-Wan is hard to handle.
This is amazing and I want it so bad.
i wish this was a thing, it would be epic and awesome
i would also love to see Qui-Gon watching this wet-behind-the-ears-powerhouse-with-no-rudder-Knight flail with a tiny-stubborn-angry-talented-Padawan, then meddling because he just can’t help himself and they’re both what could be termed ‘pathetic life forms’ especially when they’re both drenched and looking forlorn after a supposedly easy mission goes belly up
A little bit down the line and Qui-Gon has realised he’s somehow ended up with not only one pseudo-Padawan but two of them
Yoda is quietly laughing his ass off and not even bothering to hide it
Okay but canon!Obi-Wan getting thrown back as well, meeting them all and he’s just wtf-ing it all over the place because “WHAT THE HELL ANAKIN! I WAS BAD ENOUGH AS A PADAWAN TO QUI-GON! WHAT THE FUCKS!” and Anakin is like “WELL I FUCKED UP AND I HAD TO FIX IT IT’S NOT MY FAULT OKAY!”
Qui-Gon is just “wait what? I did teach you” and Canon!Obi-Wan is like “uh yeah” while alt!Obi-Wan just straight up WRECKS SHIT because omfg Obi-Wan trained by Qui-Gon is sneaky and destructive and reckless but dressed up in sophistication. Obi-Wan trained by Anakin however is sheer, unadulterated chaos.
Chaos I tell you.
Mace legit considers retiring via lightsaber to the chest because “fucking hells NO” while Yoda just lets them run wild because it’s fucking hilarious to him the little bastard
Palpatine get skewered by two Obi-Wan’s, an Anakin and a Qui-Gon for good measure and wtf-ing it into an explosion of goop and evil
Anakin who sneakily freed himself and his mom in this alt!verse with alt!Obi-Wan actually fucking giving him advice and tips and “I would not recommend you do that, killing him won’t free your- uh- them”
Gods the galaxy would never be the same.
no, and neither would the Council – they’d be just about used to the shenanigans caused by this hell team of Knight Skywalker and Padawan Kenobe, they’ve realised that these two are basically loose canon that you point in the general direction of the problem and pray (and probably take note of where Jinn is standing, because he’s at the point he always knows where to get the best seat to supervise/pass remarks/point-and-laugh without getting caught in the crossfire)
Orig!Obi rocks up, they (ok, mainly Mace) think, ok, fine, we can deal with another blunt instrument…
But no, they have a civilised, courtly, polite gentleman Knight on their hands, he’s at ease and respectful at Council meetings and in teaching classes, he’s modest and calm, he even manages to temper the excesses that Jinn and Skywalker specialise in. This baffles them but they don’t look a gift eopie in the mouth.
On review, Mace regrets that choice.
This older Kenobi manages to herd cats, and gets not only Skywalker and mini!Kenobi to go where he wants them to, but also Jinn, and it is like watching a ambulatory avalanche of destruction. The resulting paperwork is horrific, and taller than Yoda, who claims that he can’t read because he’s hurt his stomach muscles laughing so much. The Senate keeps trying to pin the Intergalactic-Brat-Pack down, but they get dazzled by the Negotiator who somehow manages to walk away without any penalty for the destruction they can’t quite pin on him, but also has the Trade Federation paying for it. Also, that Senator from Naboo disappeared in suspicious circumstances, and nobody can prove anything… Generals don’t only plot large battles, they also need to know how to cut an enemy off at the source.
Alt!Obi is taking notes, he kinda likes the idea of being a sophisticated space pirate that pretends to be a space monk, and that’s what Orig!Obi kinda looks like
Shmi rolls her eyes at her boys and insists on regular visits (yes, Ani, especially if she’s on Tattooine). Older Qui-Gon is quite taken by this self possessed and elegant Master who has managed to beat every record of upending the Council that Jinn was proud of, and look self effacing while he does it, and he’d like to see more. However, since Skywalker and Orig!Obi talked about the original timeline, Skywalker is trying to burn a hole in Jinn’s head in retaliation for sins that haven’t happened in this ‘verse, and he’s been a pretty amazing cockblock. Orig!Obi has yet to notice
Anakin is sure he’s lost control of this mess, but still can’t pinpoint where. he will take a nap
I’m fucking screaming holy shitting hells *smushes face in pillow and screams*
.
“What did you do?”
Mace’s voice echoes the sheer horror the entire Council is exuding – except Yoda, there’s just mirth there – as they stare at Obi-Wan and he can’t help but raise an eyebrow, face perfectly serene.
“As I was instructed,” Obi-Wan replies, voice level and so very polite it instantly has half the Council on edge. They’ve learned not to be idle, or busy being horrified, when the level of politeness from Master Kenobi ramps up.
They’ll be lucky to leave the room sane even with their increased wariness.
Qui-Gon stands by his side, safely exempt from the horrified questioning from the Council. Anakin is stood behind him and padawan Obi-Wan is beside him, staring at the older version of him, eyes drinking in everything.
The Council is more terrified of that sharp-eyed attentiveness in padawan Kenobi’s gaze than they are the master staring at them calmly.
They can barely handle this devastating blend of Jinn’s maverick tendencies, Kenobi’s born tenacity and this ruthless negotiating ability. Mace would consider Kenobi the best Jedi they’ve ever had were it not for the fact that he wants to throw himself from the tower in sheer dumb-struck frustration.
“You were instructed to obtain the intelligence for the Senate on the matter of the Trade Federation blockade.” Mace near bites out, staring hard at Obi-Wan who just – gods be damned – raises that eyebrow a smidge higher. “You were not instructed to dismantle the Federation’s primary droid control ship and detain two members of the senate!”
“The intelligence was obtained and relayed back to the Temple by Anakin,” Obi-Wan says casually, as though he were commenting on the weather. “We cannot be held accountable for the actions of the Trade Federation upon discovery of Jedi aboard the control ship. I believe the phrase ‘they started it’ is an accurate summary of our necessarily, defensive actions.”
Anakin shifts on the spot, fighting a grin. His master is such a fucking shit. His padawan looks at him, eyebrow raised in perfect mimicry of his elder self and- fucking hells, did Obi-Wan perfect that at birth?
“Defensive?” Master Yoda near fucking cackles, eyes bright with glee. Obi-Wan’s gaze switches to the small master. So does everyone else’s. “Necessary it was to destroy a whole ship mmm?”
Obi-Wan’s eyes are sharp with something that has always made Anakin incredibly cautious. The last time he saw that gleam in his master’s gaze he spent weeks on a ground campaign while Obi-Wan did some of the most reckless shit in their entire master-padawanship.
Qui-Gon’s amusement, carefully obscured to all but the four of them in the centre of the room, tells Anakin that the older master has quickly come to recognise the same… danger associated with that look.
“Well it certainly removed the blockade. Detaining Nute Gunray prevented the Trade Federation from calling for backup. And there was no loss of life; that’s always nice,” Obi-Wan responds.
Anakin swears he can hear the vessels in Mace’s head popping.
He’s kinda proud of the level of incredulity and frustration his master produces. And so politely as well.
The way the eyes of the Obi-Wan by his side are gleaming however gives Anakin pause. Shit.
Qui-Gon dealt with Obi-Wan the first time when he developed this unique skill. And now Anakin was going to be dealing with two of his master: one of whom was infinitely more like Anakin than was strictly safe.
Obi-Wan as a Jedi Master was devastating.
But Anakin clearly recalled how downright terrifying it had been watching his padawan with his master, working together: one knowing everything about the other, even though there were differences.
Master Obi-Wan working with himself as a padawan was literally an apocalypse for their opposition.
With Anakin and Qui-Gon added into the mix… well, the ‘four horsemen of the apocalypse’ from that quaint storybook his padawan had picked up on a mission came to mind.
Anakin kinda felt sorry of the Council as he watched Obi-Wan play them like instruments, to the point where he was honestly considering stepping in just so Mace wouldn’t actually throw himself from the tower.
Yoda kicked them out before he could however, declaring they needed to go to the healer’s and get checked out before retiring to their quarters.
“Cause more property damage you will not hmm?” Yoda says, giving Obi-Wan a look that Obi-Wan returned.
“Not unless it’s necessary Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan says, bowing. The Council relaxes but Obi-Wan’s not done yet “There’s so much paperwork to fill out for each individual act, it’s less effort to remove the property all together.”
Anakin grins, Jedi rules be damned.
look at this gem, look at this beauty, while I try to disentangle my hand from inside my mouth where it was keeping the laughs in to not scare the new roomie in the middle of the night
Icarus – Chapter 3 – dogmatix – Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008)
“I assume you’ve gotten your orders from your Commander,” Mace said.
Obi-Wan
nodded. He’d gotten them from Rex before heading off to meet the
Council, instead of Cody, but close enough. “I have, yes.” Today it
was only Mace, Yoda, and Stass Allie present, which presumably meant
that they’d reached a decision regarding the other matter.
Icarus – Chapter 3 – dogmatix – Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008)
elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey:
Mace Windu #confirmed
There's a Mirror on the Wall 