Chapter Text
“…which is why we should move to Mandalore.”
Mace wasn’t sure when or how Depa had been able to put together such a…detailed presentation. A three-hour-long detailed presentation. However, he was missing a council meeting for this so perhaps she would take some follow-up questions.
Despite the wonderful few hours spent with his newly returned padawan Mace wasn’t entirely off the hook for council meetings for the day. Of course, meetings implied a plural amount, rather than the one very long meeting that had been going for five hours already before he had shown up. He wasn’t convinced they had even stopped for midmeal yet.
Only moments after he took his seat Cin Drallig entered the council chambers with five younglings dutifully following.
Ah. The time travelers. Well, the other time travelers, at least.
“We,” Cin began, gesturing to the younglings behind him, “would like to visit Mandalore.”
That was not the direction Mace had been expecting this to go, but he supposed he shouldn’t be altogether that surprised.
“From the future, you came,” Yoda stated.
“Yeah,” Quinlan said. “We died and then all woke up here.”
“Tell us, you did not,” Yoda said, not accusingly but in a tone that implied he would very much appreciate some answers. Preferably now. Plo could second that.
“I thought you knew,” Siri said with a shrug.
Plo noticed Mace wasn’t even alone in rubbing some part or other of his head, most likely trying to stave off a headache. Several other council members were doing the exact same sort of thing.
“Obi did give you his instruction manual, right?” Garen asked, an assessing gaze sweeping the entire council.
“He did,” Mace said with a groan. “Including the part about the Sith.”
The younglings all looked pleased. Well, except for Reeft. He looked bored.
Bant, apparently sensing Plo’s question said, “Reeft didn’t time travel, by the way.”Plo amended his time traveler tally. Five time travelers, and one actual four-year-old (if he was remembering correctly) that had gotten involved in this somehow.
“Quin gave me a knife,” said child piped up from behind Siri. “Wanna see?”
Cin looked quite proud when Reeft pulled out a knife that was as long as his forearm from somewhere, so Plo concluded that the child was at least being supervised.
“Despite the thoroughness of the book Obi-Wan left with us, however, he failed to mention anything regarding time travel,” Mace said, ignoring the last minute or so entirely.
“Huh,” was all Quinlan had to offer.
“I thought you knew,” Siri said again, this time a bit more apologetically.
Dooku removed his hand from his face where he had been pinching and rubbing at the bridge of his nose.
“Perhaps one of you would be so kind as to start at the beginning,” he said in a weary tone.
“Like, the Clone Wars, or the Empire, or, like, before that?” Quinlan asked.
The majority of the council was now making some kind of stressed facial touching movement. It just wasn’t the same with his mask on so Plo settled for tapping the armrest of his chair.
“Why don’t we start with when all of you…woke up,” he suggested.
On the one hand, history lessons as given by children (physically) ages six and under were fascinating. Plo now knew of all the best places on Florrum to get glazed quorikki, but he would have to consult with his fellow council members to reconstruct the various bits of information given them by the younglings into something more resembling a…cohesive timeline, and also to deal with the numerous revelations casually sprinkled in amongst the anecdotes, complaints about some being named “Anakin,” and a nearly equal amount of praise for some other being named “Cody.” Both beings were apparently important to Obi-Wan, but each of his friends had strong opinions that they were more than happy to share with the council. At length.
The number of supposed Sith acolytes mentioned in their collective tale was concerning and would also need to be discussed, for as comprehensive as the instruction manual Obi-Wan left had seemed to be there were plenty of other rather concerning pieces of their future-past that had been left out. Understandable though, given the sheer amount of information. And the fact that despite having experienced decades of life, they were all physically age six or under and it showed.
“We’re not letting a four-year-old pilot a ship to Mandalore,” Mace said firmly.
“I’m five,” Garen corrected, since obviously that was the important part of this conversation.
Dooku could have happily gone his entire life without ever having experienced the past few hours. At least this so-called “Darth Sidious” was already dead; he didn’t even want to begin to think about what apparently could have been.
“I thought you said Jon Antilles died.”
“He did,” Mace said with a sigh. “Or, at least we believed he did. This is the fourth time though, so perhaps we need some other type of verification process.”
“Huh,” was all Depa said in reply. “So when are we leaving?”
Mace would have liked to have pointed out that he had said absolutely nothing regarding any plans to go anywhere ever again, but he knew it was pointless. He did, however, wonder who had let the information that a certain excursion to a certain planet that a certain Jedi youngling was on slip within Depa’s hearing range. It was probably Yoda getting back at him after his very innocent slicing of Yoda’s datapad in search of the still-elusive council resignation forms. He just wanted to look.
“Obi’ka will be pleased to hear you are coming,” Jaster exclaimed. “I will ensure no one shoots at your ships as you approach.”
“Appreciated, that is,” Master Yoda answered solemnly.
Jaster nodded. “It will be good for him to have friends around as we begin our campaign against the Hutts.”
There was a brief delay in the holo and Jaster tapped the side of the device just in case it had frozen, but after a few moments, he could see movement and hear the jetiise again.
Mace wasn’t convinced the Mand’alor was entirely on board with the “lay aside our differences and start anew as potential allies and friends” thing that seemed to be going on, because how else was he supposed to explain the fact that the Mand’alor was one more unfortunately timed revelation away from killing Mace? In a very easily numbered amount of weeks, Mace had learned about a Jedi youngling’s adoption by a planetary/system/maybe-empire ruler, another Jedi’s not-actually-dead current state of existence, time travel, Sith, the death of a Sith, and the fact that the Mandalorians had apparently sort-of declared war on the Hutts, all of which had involved Jaster Mereel in some way or other (and often a large way at that).
How did one “sort-of” declare war anyway?
Well, that was going to be some other being’s problem to explain to the Senate of the Galactic Republic because Mace Windu was going to be leaving for Mandalore as soon as he could get Depa onto a ship. Given the fact that she had already packed, it would not be long and they would soon be headed for Mandalore where the Mand’alor was maybe not going to be, since he was apparently going to be leading an attack on the Hutt empire.
Mace was not going to stick around to be the one stuck explaining that.
“Who let Reeft on the ship?”
“How was your holocall?”
Jon absolutely did not startle at that. How a child (toddler?), time-traveling Jedi Master or not, could sneak up on him like that was unnerving but he was the epitome of serenity and there were no security cameras close enough to prove otherwise.
Since he certainly didn’t need to recover from anything whatsoever, he took a few breaths strictly for health reasons (vital functions and all that) and looked over at Obi-Wan.
“There are a whole bunch of Jedi coming here.”
Obi-Wan looked conflicted.
“Not because the Senate told them to or anything, right?”
Jon gave a small shake of his head.
“Someone named… Depa, I think it was? Anyway, they made a presentation and a few of the councilors agreed to accompany them on a trip here.”
Obi-Wan’s face relaxed and simultaneously lit up at that.
“Depa’s coming?” he asked.
Jon nodded. “You know them?”
Obi-Wan grinned. “Depa’s great. You’ll love her. She’s really nice and she knows how to convince Mace to help prank the other councilors and she brings snacks whenever we watch Mace subtly insulting most of the Senate. She’s the best.”
“So, uh, did she time travel too?”
That was a better line of questioning, in Jon’s opinion, than Obi-Wan’s future, past, or present experience watching Mace Windu possibly prank other members of the Jedi Order or insult the leaders of the Galactic Republic.
“Nope,” was all Obi-Wan offered, thus bringing that topic to an abrupt halt. “So who were you talking to?”
“Master Plo Koon,” Jon replied, happy that he could answer with a name other than Mace Windu just in case Obi-Wan felt the need to give him more reasons to dread the imminent arrival of what may or may not be half the Jedi High Council. Who apparently had not known about the time travel. Or that Jon was still alive, but that wasn’t important.
“You know, in another life, I think Plo could have been a Mandalorian, at least as far as adoption goes. Wolffe and his brothers all called Plo buir, you know.”
Jon did not know. Nor did he know who Wolffe was. He felt he should probably warn someone among the Jedi delegation about the adoption tendencies, in case they had anyone younger than Master Yoda with them. Or Master Yoda, for that matter, who knew with some of the Mandos. But even more than that, he needed to warn them about the marriage proposals. The ones he hadn’t even realized were happening because he was so far still only passable in the language and Arla Fett had followed him around and laughed anytime he had unknowingly rejected someone instead of, you know, explaining anything at all.
Jon regretted many things leading to this moment, but most of all he regretted opening his mouth in the first place. He should have just left it there. What “it” was and where “there” might be were yet to be determined, but surely at some point, there was something he could have left somewhere that would have prevented this moment.
“How many clones, exactly?”
Jon let his focus wander away from Mereel’s question and Obi-Wan’s surely anxiety-inducing response in order to both maintain his current level of sanity and also painstakingly retrace everything that had happened in the last seventeen hours leading up to this, beginning with the holocall to the Jedi contingent and ending with…whatever this conversation between Mereel and Obi-Wan that he was trying very hard to not be an active participant of was.
Holocall.
Brief talk with Obi-Wan.
Second holocall warning Master Drallig about the adoption and marriage vows. It was important for Jedi to be aware of local customs before visiting a planet for the first time. Or the twentieth time, for that matter. The tale of Knight Yevon’s accidental installment into the line of succession on Vri’i had reached even Jon, all the way out in the middle of approximately nowhere where he’d been at the time, after all.
Food. His mouth was still on fire but it was worth it.
Brief conversation with Jango Fett.
Long avoidance of Arla Fett.
Sleep that was because he was going to do it anyway and not at all because Obi-Wan had distracted him before he could do anything other than say goodnight.
Wake up.
More food.
More conversations that all blended together and mostly didn’t require responses on his part.
Spar with Obi-Wan.
Spar with Jango Fett.
Spar with a few other Mandos.
Leaving quickly before anyone could ask to adopt him again.
Using Obi-Wan as a distraction for the same reason.
Being asked to assist some of Jaster’s people in preparing for the arrival of the other Jedi.
Struggling to come up with topics of conversation.
Being asked about the Jedi.
Remembering the Five Steps of Conversing with Non-Hostile Beings and finding a relatable subject.
Mentioning Obi-Wan’s comment about Master Plo Koon being called buir.
Not knowing who Wolffe was or really anything on the matter beyond that.
Finding Obi-Wan because there were too many questions that he had no idea about but Obi-Wan seemed to know who it was.
Forgetting about the time-travel thing long enough to not immediately realize how badly this might go.
Yeah, somewhere between the Five Steps and that momentary lapse in memory was probably what got him into this mess.
Because of course as soon as Obi-Wan had begun answering questions like “Who is Wolffe?” and “How many brothers does he have?” and “Are they coming here too?” there were far more questions that needed answering than before.
Questions like, “Clones?” and “When did this happen?” and “Are you sick?” because those were sniffles and that meant sick or tears and Jon only knew how to handle one of those things.
“Where is Mereel?” had followed Obi-Wan’s reply in the negative to the previous question and thus the Mand’alor was sought and had soon joined their little group.
Mereel was adept at handling the tears, aided by Obi-Wan’s impeccable theoretical knowledge of releasing emotions to the Force, even if the execution of said release could perhaps have been better described as “wobbly.”
And then Jon had opened his mouth again and all of a sudden he was learning that not only had there been clones, which he was pretty sure was against Republic law, but they had been commissioned of all things and had then been used as the principle fighting force on the order of the Senate, and had been led by the Jedi.
There were plenty of things wrong with that image, of course, but then the detail came out that they had all died (that’s what Obi-Wan meant by gone, right?), but that was in the future and as of right now none of them had even been born yet. Born? Jon wasn’t sure if that was the right word in this instance but he was going with it for now.
And if all of that hadn’t been enough, the small, minor detail of the clones all being of Jango Fett had been mentioned. And now here he was.
He understood that this was important information to have known and that whatever the purpose of Obi-Wan’s time travel had been, this was most likely related, but he didn’t love the fact that he was involved in the discovery of said information, or that he was probably once again going to have a bunch of questions directed towards him by the Jedi Council. Questions that he still had no answers for.
Technically Obi-Wan could be considered older than he was, right? Maybe they’d ask him instead.
Although having read through Obi-Wan’s instruction manual for Jedi and having noted the complete absence of anything regarding time travel in the first place, let alone clones, or Jango Fett, Jon wondered how well that would really work out. Obi-Wan seemed perfectly able to answer questions about his future-past but also appeared to have a very different priority system when it came to what information ought to be covered.
He was almost impressed at the length of the instruction manual given how much had been left out. At least Obi-Wan had mentioned the Sith.
Jaster had felt many things over the past several weeks and had had his perception of the way the universe worked irrevocably changed multiple times as well, but this?
Millions of clones of his ad, that had both lived and never existed. That had fought and died and been refused recognition as sentients by the same government they fought for and yet would likely never exist. The grief visible in Ob’ika’s small face was poignant, but so was the joy of his memories as he told stories of men who gave themselves names because no one had. Jaster knew he would have to ask Obi-Wan more about Jango and what could have possibly led him to be involved in anything like that, but for now, he held his child and listened.
“Do you think they could ever be here? Now?”
Jaster noted the small trace of surprise on the face of the jetii.
“Born, or created, or…just appear?”
Jaster shrugged a shoulder. “Either. Both. I don’t know. Obi-Wan’s memory, or…soul, or whatever it was that came here. Could that happen to them?”
Antilles was silent but seemed to be deeply contemplating his answer so Jaster let him be.
After several minutes the jetii spoke softly.
“Maybe it could happen,” he said. “The Force…”
Antilles shook his head.
“I suppose anything is possible, really.”
Jaster gave a firm nod and stood. He didn’t know much about this force, but if that is what had brought Ob’ika back, and to him, perhaps it would allow for the existence of his bu’ad, however large their number.
Better to be prepared, in any case.
“So it is called the…what did you say, Gai Bal Manda?”
Master Drallig nodded. “I believe that is how it is pronounced, yes.”
“Fascinating,” Master Plo replied with what Quinlan knew was a smile beneath the mask.
He popped another nut into his mouth and watched what was definitely Master Plo’s I’m-about-to-do-something-that-is-definitely-following-the-will-of-the-Force-I’m-a-Jedi-Master-I-know-what-I’m-talking-about face. Quinlan had never quite mastered that particular look.
Mace took one look at the Mand’alor’s face and almost turned and walked right back onto the ship. He didn’t, but he wanted to and only years of meditation practice kept him in place.
Because that? That was the face of a being who is about to share information, and Mace had hoped to avoid that particular activity for at least an hour or two after arrival, but no.