Chapter Text
“Let us be perfectly clear, Master Kenobi,” the Korun Master was watching Obi-Wan with a piercing eye. Sunlight streamed through towering windows and tinted the Council chamber in a soft golden glow, but it did nothing to ease the tension that had slowly been building up in the last half hour.
“This undercover mission will very likely be time-consuming,” Windu continued. “Nonetheless the Council is convinced of its utmost importance. Your main goal is to find out whether the Hutt Cartel now majorly controlling Tatooine has been in contact with Darth Tyranus – and if so – why?”
The Council suspected the Cartel was organizing a weapons deal. But intel was frustratingly insufficient.
In the eye of the chamber’s watchful gaze, Obi-Wan was about to formulate his approval of the mission, when the flickering blue outline of Ki-Adi-Mundi stirred. “We cannot allow neither the Sith nor the Separatists to gain even more influence in that sector of the Outer Rim. The Correlian Run, the Republic's major supply route, is just around the corner. Were the Cartel to suddenly choose a side... well, you must also try to be ahead of that.”
Obi-Wan, nodding pensively, let the weight of the task sink in. He would have to journey alone, rely entirely on his undercover persona, and penetrate the Cartel’s inner workings – or grasp enough of them – to uncover and retrieve the relevant intelligence. And on top of that, he needed reliable insight into the Cartel’s alliances... He shuddered internally at all the variables that could jeopardize this undertaking. Even if everything went according to plan, it could take weeks. And Force knows things did not exactly go according to plan in this war so far.
Obi-Wan sensed the unrelenting scrutiny of the Council pressing on him and realized he had been silent an instant too long. “I understand, Masters. I assume this mission would also necessitate reduced contact with the Order?” He had to actively loosen the built up grip on his own forearms, crossed inside the sleeves of his robe.
“Check in with you, we cannot. Minimal communication, only when necessary, we will await.” The Grand Master answered in a grave tone. “But trust in you and in the Force, we have. To guide you, and to help you”.
Master Windu remained still, allowing Yoda’s voice to linger in the chamber. Then he brought the meeting to an end. “We had a small ship prepared for you. With that, the journey might take about a week. It would be wise to depart as soon as possible.” Despite the sudden call for action, the second in command of the Order paused again to acknowledge the Jedi Master in front of him. “May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
Obi-Wan returned the blessing, and with a light bow he retreated from the chamber.
Entering the hangar, he was immediately joined by Cody. “Good day to you, General!”
“Hello there, Commander. Looks like I’ve got a ship waiting. Care to go over the details with me?” They fell into step next to each other and headed towards Bay C.
“Naturally, sir. Actually I was appointed to supervise the refurbishing. It's a WTK-85A that Master Vos salvaged on another mission a couple of month ago, so it has no Temple registration. It has been standing around since, but it's in surprisingly good condition! The mechanics started working on it a week ago. I insisted on squeezing in a little medbay.” Cody grinned at him. “Just in case, obviously. Not that I think you might need it, sir.”
“Obviously,” Obi-Wan smirked back. “Do you have other encouraging words for me? Ones that would not insistently be hinting at this utterly questionable preconception that I get hurt often?”
“Don't crash the ship, sir!”
“Now that would be a bit far fetched!” Obi-Wan replied with some actual surprise and indignation in his voice. “Oh no … Don't you dare bring up that unfortunate business on Felucia!”
“I was actually thinking of Utap- ” before Cody could finish his sentence, he felt a resistance against his right shin. Unable to get over the obstacle, he fell forward and barely managed to roll over his shoulder to disperse the shock of the impact. He looked at the ground behind him and found … nothing.
“Did you just Force-trip me up!?” Cody starred up at his general in disbelief.
“I would find that hard to believe. But do you think I should brush up some more on my diversion-skills for this mission?”
Cody started laughing at the smug response and took the extended hand to get back up on his feet. “Well, I think you'll do just fine in that area.”
Both kept grinning until they arrived in front of the ship. Cody did not know just how much his general actually clung to these last moments of genuine companionship before having to embark on another solo-mission.
“I know the outside of the craft looks – adequately battered. My team thought it wise to keep the jagged look, but we did make sure it is up to par internally.” Cody scrolled trough his datapad and continued. “I won't bore you with the technical specs, General, but we revised the engine, the shielding, the armaments and the navcomputer. And of course we restocked provisions for a couple of months. The Council even provided a crate with a selection of weapons. Ah... and we changed the air filters ...”
“Sounds good, Commander,” said Obi-Wan while inspecting the outside of the WTK. He was about to open the entry ramp to check out what would be his home for the next weeks – if not months – when he felt a hint of unease reverberate in the Force around Cody.
Raising a brow, he turned to his commander again. “Anything else I should know?”
“Well, unfortunately we did find a … a dead slashrat, sir, ... under the panels while installing the medbay. We did our best to scrub everything down to get rid of the stink, but …”
In that moment the ramp swung open and a waft of Temple detergent came out, nonetheless mixed with something fetid. The sickeningly sweet scent of a rotting slashrat had clearly permeated the entirety of the ship.
“Now that is just wonderful,” Obi-Wan deadpanned. “By Arkay’s sunken sockets! Why did Quinlan bring back a dead slashrat?” He usually did not call upon weird deities of the galaxy, but that sensory overload was a lot to take in. “They're huge! Why did no one check the ship when it arrived here months ago ?”
“No one knows, sir,” Cody replied, probably to both questions. He kept the datapad in front of his nose, as if it could shield him from the olfactory assault. “I mean, we obviously knew something was off, when we first opened the ship last week. But it took us a while to identify the exact location. The search was… rather overwhelming.”
“How very perceptive of you,” pinching the bridge of his nose, Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a second. “Please tell me that there were no other surprises on board.”
“None, Sir”, Cody had the nerve to start grinning again. “The rest is just peachy. But I would advise leaving the ramp open while you finish your preparations. And maybe even the topside hatch…”
“Please, Cody, you are outdoing yourself today with all this good work and sound advice. Maybe you should take a break?”
“Never, sir, not while working for you. I do want to make sure that the 212th will get its general back in one piece.”
“Well thank you, Cody,” a smile crept its way back in the knight's face. “But I think I can take it from here. I am convinced that you have more important things to do than to watch me go over the inventory list. Dismissed.”
“Safe travels, General,” Cody saluted. “And may the Force be with you.” Then he turned around and headed towards the hangar exit.
It didn't take Obi-Wan long to leave Coruscant. He could have been slightly faster, but he did delay closing the ramp and the hatch for as long as possible and even did two extra laps around the ship, datapad in hand, pretending to “check the outside”. Fresh air was indeed more than necessary. Hopefully the ship's life support would rapidly recycle the air into a more neutral aroma.
Now that the ship was on autopilot and he could not find any other menial tasks, he had to turn his mind to the mission ahead.
Why do I dread it so much?
It certainly wasn't his first undercover mission. He even advised one himself, when the Order got wind of a plan to abduct the Chancellor. He had been the one offering to fake his own death to be able to seamlessly impersonate his own killer, the bounty hunter Rako Hardeen. He did not even mind changing his own appearance for it. He certainly went all out for the mission to succeed, and it worked … He should be content that the Council trusted him with another mission of this kind. And yet …
I have to get to the bottom of this …
He sat down on his meditation pad and took a deep breath. He could almost hear his late master's voice sneering a “search your feeeelings, my padawan” and had to chuckle. Qui-Gon had been a bit eccentric at times. Even though his master had taken meditation quite seriously, he enjoyed repeating the pompous sentences of other teachers with a quirky twist of his own.
Qui-Gon always tried to bring some lightheartedness into the over-zealous attempts of his student to master everything he was taught. Obi-Wan knew he had a tendency to take things too seriously, that he could be almost too professional at times.
Is that it? Am I getting too caught up with my work?
No, that was not it. He devoted his life to the Order and found no issue in his readiness to sacrifice his time, or even himself, for what he considered his calling.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
He repeated this mantra a couple of times and found his mind becoming a bit clearer already. He still felt an ache in his chest, when his thoughts went back to the mission ahead.
Am I afraid the enormity of the task?
Not really. He would manage. There was a reason people called him The Negotiator. He could trust in his intuition around people. He instinctively knew what role to play to get to his goal. He knew how to read faces, how to collect and sort through the information he would get. A little mind trick here and there could also reveal itself quite helpful from time to time.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
Once again, he repeated this mantra. The ache in his chest still lingered. He took another deep breath.
What could be the source of this? Fear of loss? What could I lose?
Nothing came to mind. He had no true objection to the idea of being sent away and none either to the dangers that came with this task.
Did I lose something last time?
That question did make something resonate within him. He was starting to reach a deeper meditative state, so – taking another deep breath – he used the advancing clarity of mind to lay bare his thoughts.
The Rako-Hardeen-Operation did leave him with the impression of having lost something… maybe a piece of himself? But if he had suddenly lost something, whatever that was, he should have realized it immediately… no? Or had that sense of loss crept its way into his heart with time?
He knew his brothers and sisters were more than a bit alienated, for they had mourned him, in order to let go of him, just to eventually see him pop back into their lives.
It was like a veil had come down between him and the people around him. Something that hindered a natural connection. And the war keeping everyone busy had not helped mending the emotional distance, on the contrary.
He realized he had barely seen some of his brethren and had not even had the the chance to get back in touch with others.
He had been able to build his friendship back up with Cody, but only because they worked so closely together.
So am I sad about being lonely? Am I afraid of coming back even more estranged?
The growing emptiness in his chest seemed to agree. Sadness? Fear? He should be able to let those emotions go. He had trained for this all his life.
There is no emotion, there is peace.
He filled his lungs and breathed these emotions into the Force. The sense of loneliness remained. He acknowledged its presence.
What can I do about that?
Of course his mind conjured up his old master again. Qui-Gon always had a knack for connecting with random strangers. There wasn't a single mission where he didn't find himself invited to share a campfire, a meal, or a drink. And he would share stories and laughs with the locals until the sun came up.
“Your focus determines your reality,” the spectral Qui-Gon of his mind chimed in. Of course he would. Sometimes, Obi-Wan was convinced his master was indeed floating around the Force, brushing against his mind, just to torment him with his philosophical one-liners.
So should I make friends with a nice-enough slaver? Certainly not!
A low grunt escaped his throat, though the clarity about his situation did ease his mind and heart. He would try to implement a bit of Qui-Gon's teaching into this mission.
He was now able to leave his mind and concentrate on his own presence in the Force. He went through the last two mantras.
There is no chaos, there is harmony.
There is no death, there is the Force.
He did not have to heed his breathing anymore. He was almost disconnected from his body. He wallowed in the presence of his own Force signature, a bright light with a gentle swirl.
After a while, he focused only on the edges of his mind. Now that it was not clouded by his emotions, he could distinctively feel the Force around him. He could not feel anything urging him to turn around. On the contrary, he could swear he felt a slight tugging in the direction of travel. Or was he imagining it? At least his journey did not feel so wrong anymore.
The rest of the journey had gone relatively smoothly. He found that Cody had replaced the usual teabags in the provisions with a box of real green tea leaves, which gave him an additional mood-booster. He went through his katas, meditated some more, and went through the details of the persona the Council advised him to play: An auditor, who quit working for of one of the republics overwhelming multitude of armament regulation bureaus – now operating independently. A fed up paper-pusher with a lot of knowledge about the whereabouts and headings of weapons – that he could share.
Boring enough so no one would care to look up his credentials, but potentially useful for his knowledge and hopefully interesting to the Cartel ...
After a careful scrutiny of the latest news about the planet on the holonet, he also decided on his starting point. The city of Mos Eisley. It was not the biggest city of Tatooine – that would still be Mos Espa – but it definitely seemed like he would not find a more wretched hive of scum and villany. A perfect place to get a feel for the Clan's activities and to build up connections
The Hutt Clan's base of operation was and had always been in Mos Espa, but he figured it would not be a good idea to test the possibilities of his persona directly in their headquarters. Hopefully, the contacts he would make, would lead him there naturally, if necessary.
As he approached Tatooine, he changed into clothes that didn't scream jedi: high-waisted pants, turquoise shirt with a straight neckline, brown fitted long coat with structured shoulders and a high collar, a little metallic insignia pinned to the collar, a utility belt, as well as a copper-colored head scarf to protect himself from the sun and sand. After concealing his lightsaber in his clothes, he attached a blaster pistol and, very visibly, a datapad holster on his belt and…
Voilà he was Ben Karvos.