#<-- those are their actual Mando'a names in the au if you are curious | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starwarsfic · 4 years

Text

Gai'se bal Mande 1: Alpha-17

Originally posted September 4, 2020

Summary: There's one basic fact of the galaxy that lots of people agree on: Qui-Gon Jinn does not deserve to raise Obi-Wan.

Details: Alpha-17 & Obi-Wan. Time Travel AU. Mandalore Mission AU. For the Punch Qui-Gon and Adopt Obi-Wan challenge.

xxxxxx

Death came in battle, it was all that Alpha-17 could hope for.

That it was battle against the Vod'e, the younger siblings he'd raised and trained and who'd gone suddenly, horrifying blank-faced before turning on the Jedi around them, left something to be desired.

He thought of the ones off Kamino, legions of Vod'e that could very well be doing exactly the same thing. Trusted--some even loved--by the Jedi around them.

He thought of Kote. And how he'd entrusted him with Obi-Wan.

His heart ached.

And then he hit the water, the impact knocking him out, the current sucking him under, and stopped thinking.

***

Alpha-17 came awake with a gasp. He hadn't expected to come awake at all, so he did as he had been trained to and accessed the situation before allowing any signs of waking. He was lying on grass, somewhere with moderate temperature on the cold side. There were at least two people in the immediate vicinity, he could smell the faintest fumes of blaster fire but not hear any of the telltale sounds of armor.

"Hey, are you okay?" The voice was on the young side, the words were Mando'a, the accent familiar--achingly familiar, he realized.

He opened his eyes and a too-young version of Obi-Wan was leaning over him, staring down at him. Was this the afterlife? Were one of the religions that said there was some sort of 'heaven' after death right? But he'd think he'd be staring into Obi-Wan's face as he'd been when they first met, that those eyes would be alight with recognition.

This...this kid was younger than a shiny and definitely didn't recognize him. He had the telltale Padawan haircut, which looked somehow extra ridiculous and extra adorable on his fluffy red hair. He wasn't wearing robes, though, instead dressed like some sort of spacer.

Beside him was a girl, a little older than him, light colored hair and--oh.

Oh.

The Duchess. His General and the Duchess.

"What--what year is this?"

The two exchanged looks, clearly concerned for him. "You fell out of the sky, there aren't any ships around. Whatever happened to you--you're disoriented."

"I'm not," Alpha-17 insisted, sitting up and inspecting himself.

The blaster marks were there on his armor, but the wounds were gone. His bucket was missing, too, but that was probably for the best--the armor he might be able to pass off as Mandalorian style, but he couldn't do that with the helmet.

Neither of them recognized him--neither of them would have seen Jango Fett before, he didn't think. How old would Jango have been right now? Would they be too close in age and looks to risk showing his face?

He spared a moment to think about tracking him down, it wouldn't be hard to get a slip on him, he wouldn't be expecting anyone to know as much about his skillset as Alpha-17 did.

"It's 7938 CRC," Padawan Obi-Wan finally says, watching Alpha-17 for a reaction.

"Right, that scans," he stated, in acknowledgement, remembering his General liked that sort of thing. "I want you to reach out with your Force banthashit, and ask it if the next thing I say is true or not." Obi-Wan's eyes widen and, after another quick look at Kryze, he nods. "I'm from the future."

Kryze lets out a disbelieving noise. Obi-Wan, who'd been crouching beside him, falls flat on his ass, still staring. He believed him, then. That made things slightly easier.

"Duchess, you're dead. I'm dead, or was. You...Obi-Wan, you probably are, too. There was a war," before Kryze could say anything about how there was currently a war, he waved a hand, "a galactic wide war. Lots of people died. If I'm back here, now...it's so we can prepare for it."

All through his words, Obi-Wan's eyes hardened, his face chilling into the determined look Alpha-17 recognized from battle. He'd been in battle, he realized, now, and before now, even. He'd said as much when they'd talked about his past. Obi-Wan might be missing a few decades of experience, but he wasn't missing his earlier knowledge of warfare.

"You believe him?"

"The Force is--it's hard to explain, Sat'ika. It's ringing with truth all around him, screaming at me to believe him."

Kryze had the resigned look of someone who had worked with a Jedi for long enough to know they were all completely crazy and also actually did have mysterical powers.

"Fine." She stood up a little straighter, looking down at him with an air of authority at odds with her dirty spacer disguise. "What's the plan, then?"

***

He told them enough, Obi-Wan confirmed anything with the Force that Kryze thought was just too unbelievable. It wasn't hard, after that, to get their help tracking down Jango (Alpha-17 remembered just enough about his stories to have a good guess of where he might be) and, even though neither of them seemed too hot about it, killing him.

Taking his identity felt creepy, but they needed it--the Duchess of the New Mandalorians and the Mand'alor of the traditionalists working together? Yeah, they needed that.

And if anyone noticed the gaps in "Jango's" memory, well, there was a lot of trauma there. No surprise he'd repress most of his old life.

Eventually Jinn tracked them down, too, clearly not knowing what to make of the fact his charge had gone so far off the rails she'd allied with a missing political rival.

Definitely no one was surprised that "Jango" didn't want a Jedi involved in anything (Obi-Wan didn't count, of course, but there were lots of reasons people could give for that), and he blocked him out of their planning meetings.

Frustrated and petty, Jinn drew Obi-Wan away just a day after they all reached Sundari. "I...suppose our work here is done, then. Padawan, it's time to return to Coruscant."

"So you can send him off alone in another warzone?" Alpha-17 challenged and the people around them tensed in anticipation, knowing how much "Jango" liked the apprentice. "Let him starve for a few more months when he's supposed to be growing?"

Jinn's eyes flashed with anger, his expression reminding Alpha-17 of Anakin--who'd been nineteen, not some old man entrusted with raising multiple kids. It was impossible to believe this guy raised someone like Obi-Wan Kenobi, though he figured that was because Obi-Wan mostly raised himself.

"Obi-Wan is my Padawan learner, as his Master--"

"You're supposed to take care of him, not treat him like a neglected strill that will keep obedient because it doesn't know better."

"Jango," Obi-Wan tried to interrupt, but Alpha-17 shot him a look and he backed down and shuffled away, Satine gripping his arm, both seeming more curious than concerned.

Maybe it was Obi-Wan's easy obedience towards Alpha-17 or maybe it was the protective anger Jinn was feeling in the Force, but he stepped forward, looking down at Alpha-17 like his height was something to be intimidated by and not just a quirk of genetics.

Alpha-17 had spent too long dealing with the longnecks to give a shit about Qui-Gon Jinn being taller.

"Our mission is over, Mand'alor," the title was hissed in displeasure, "and it is time to return to our home."

Alpha-17 turned towards Obi-Wan, whose eyes were wide. They'd discussed this--the need to prepare Mandalore for what was to come, the fact that the Republic, the Jedi Order, couldn't be as ready. He took a breath, let it out steadily, as he did when he was releasing emotions in the Force. Then he nodded.

"Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad," Alpha-17 stated, the room erupting into chaos as "Jango Fett" adopted a child.

Jinn clearly didn't know what that meant, but knew there was some significance. He strode forward and, instead of stopping in front of Obi-Wan to speak to him as Alpha-17 had been expecting, he grabbed Obi-Wan's arm.

"We're going, now, Padawan."

He didn't get more of a tug in before Alpha-17's fist landed cleanly in his kidney. Letting out a wheeze, the older Jedi stumbled away, Obi-Wan just managing to get out of his grip. Satine was whispering frantically to him, glaring at Jinn as she did, probably telling Obi-Wan how unacceptable Jinn's move had been even if Obi-Wan had been conditioned to think that was alright.

"You're leaving, Jinn. And you're not taking my son with you."

The Mandalorians around them weren't the Vod'e, would never be as close or know him as truly, but they were still Mando'ade, and quickly filled in the space to block Obi-Wan from Jinn's view as he turned his attention back to them.

The Jedi Order would protest the whole thing, probably fed some lies by Jinn about what actually had happened, but there were more than enough people here to know and spread the truth through the sector. There was nothing more Mandalorian than fighting the Jedi and with any luck this might even get Death Watch interested in "Jango's" rule.

xxxxxx

"gai bal manda" is the Mandalorian adoption rite, it means "name and soul." This is me doing my best to pluralize that into "names and souls"

#character: alpha 17 #ship: alpha 17 & obi wan #character: obi wan kenobi #ship: satine & obi wan #character: satine kryze #character: qui gon jinn #verse: time travel #theme: identity theft #theme: mandalorian culture #theme: mandalore mission

15 notes · View notes

starwarsfic · 4 years

Text

Breathe In With Hunger

Originally posted September 13, 2020

Summary: Obi-Wan had spent his whole life keeping his species a secret, until the Clone Wars made that impossible.

Details: Sithspawn Stewjoni AU.

xxxxxx

Obi-Wan hadn't known what to expect from the clone medical staff--he'd seen how efficient the troopers were, he almost hoped that he'd be able to get in and out of medical without any fuss.

That, however, was not to be.

"General," the medic, who had finally introduced himself as Sleep, seemed baffled by something and Obi-Wan braced himself. "Your medical records require Council authorization."

"Ah."

His casual acknowledgement called more notice to them than he'd thought it would, the focused attention of so many similar people clawing at him in the Force.

It also didn't help Sleep's attitude and, from the bags under his eyes and the tell-tale sign of stim-caused tremors, Obi-Wan was beginning to understand the name was possibly an in-joke. "General, I can't treat you if I don't know even the basics about you. It's the entire file except your name and birth date! Even your gender is redacted!"

He shifted, glancing around them. Only clones.

Whatever that meant. As he still wasn't sure how he felt about Jango Fett creating a supposed army for the Republic.

Alpha-17 was there, shifting closer to them with his tell-tale scowl. Beyond him, a few other troopers lingered, ones that had been on the recent mission with them, back-up when no other Jedi, not even his Padawan, were available.

Thus, too, why Obi-Wan wasn't being seen by a Jedi healer who already knew about him.

They all felt safe. Alpha had certainly proven himself time and time again to Obi-Wan.

And if the war continued on as it was going, they would all find out sooner than later, regardless of how careful Obi-Wan was. Perhaps an early warning would garner him the troopers' help in hiding himself in plain sight.

"Do you know what a Stewjoni is?"

Sleep blinked at him, like a droid that had just rebooted, and then startled. "You...but...." His fingers flew across the datapad in his hand, most likely at whatever medical information he'd been able to collect from their own databases. "That would explain the copper levels," he finally allowed, seeming to fumble over his words.

Beside them, Alpha-17 let out a low string of curses in Mando'a, a few that even Obi-Wan didn't know. "That would have been good to know, General," he bit out the title, condescending. "Especially with how the Sith are always all over you."

"I apologize for the oversight, Alpha. It has never been necessary information for those who temporarily worked with me, before."

Obi-Wan needed the distraction from thinking about the Sith--the feel of them against his senses, the smooth Darkness that flowed out of them. His instincts were dulled by over three decades with the Jedi and still they were so, so hard to resist when he was injured and someone like Ventress was right there.

He still remembered the taste of the Sith on Naboo, his instincts tearing through him after watching the killing blow delivered to Qui-Gon, feeling their bond start to come undone. It had just been the slightest amount, enough that he'd come out of the encounter with not even a bruise, but it had made his food taste like ash for months after.

"What do I need to know, sir?" Sleep dragged his attention back from places he really shouldn't let it go.

With a sigh, he motioned for the datapad and reluctantly logged into his own medical profile, watching as two lines became a short lifetime of information. "This is full access, trooper. I expect you to be discreet."

Sleep nodded and, distracted as he was, barely said anything when Obi-Wan slipped from the room. It wasn't as though he had gone alone, Alpha-17 was at his back the whole walk to his own temporary bunk in Tipoca City.

"If you're looking for another apology, Alpha, I'm afraid one isn't coming."

That just earned him a snort, Alpha-17 closing the door behind him and standing in the private room like he was a common fixture and not a new oddity in Obi-Wan's life.

"Your blood was blue."

"Excuse me?"

"After Ohma D'un. I thought it was some trick of the weapon you'd been exposed to."

Obi-Wan licked his lips, glancing down at his wrists where carefully crafted tattoos gave the impression of near-human blood vessels under his light toned skin. "I have an implant," he said, finally, "that helps make my blood look red, or close enough. It had failed by the end." The added iron often made him feel sickly and he'd been almost glad that it wasn't working, with how much damage his body had taken.

"Do you need...accommodations?" When his answer was a raised eyebrow, Alpha-17 glowered and continued, "Like General Koon or General Fisto need. Environmental? Special rations?"

"Have I given any indication that I do?" Now it was Alpha-17's turn to give him a look. "It's not...you must understand, my people were manufactured. We're quite capable of living in very diverse environments and, when our preferred food is scarce, living off of nearly anything." He gave a wry grin. "Though, despite it all, I'll never be as fond of live insects as my Padawan is."

Alpha-17 grimaced, remembering a few particularly harsh campaigns where Anakin had become creative with additions to their GAR-issued rations. He remained silent for a few moments, clearly working through something serious, and Obi-Wan took the time to prepare some tea for them. The ritual of it, adopted from his own Master (who adopted it from Dooku, though Obi-Wan tried not to think of that), was comforting.

As much as he'd deny it, this was a nerve-wracking evening. The last time he'd revealed himself had been when he'd taken Anakin as his Padawan, needing the boy to understand the idiosyncrasies he might notice and the difference in emotions that would flow down their bond. Anakin had already been facing so many changes, and had such a unique perspective compared to the Core and Mid-Rim peoples that Obi-Wan normally encountered, that it had gone easily.

He wasn't sure how the clones would actually take the information, when they had time to process it. Obi-Wan was aware that how human he looked could often be unsettling to those who knew the truth. That his whole being could come across as a lie in itself.

"Are you holding back?" Alpha-17 asked into the silence, after Obi-Wan served him tea in a delicate cup, as if sensing his thought process.

"What do you mean?"

"During our fights. Are you holding back because you're...hiding."

Obi-Wan stroked his beard with one hand, the fingers of the other tapping against his cup. "I suppose, if you wanted to be fully accurate, I am. But it's not because I worried you would find out," he hurried to add, "it is because if I were to stop...it would be very difficult to come back from that."

"What does that mean? You would...go feral?"

He coughed out his sip of tea, trying not to laugh. "No, Force, what sort of odd fictions are you troopers reading?" Alpha-17 had the good grace to look embarrassed. "I could far more easily take on someone like Ventress or even Dooku himself if I used my...natural abilities. However, I do not know if I could stop myself from...feeding from their essences. Which in turn would kickstart a healing process in my body that could very well reverse all the very extensive, and expensive, surgeries I have had over the years and possibly get the Order in trouble for harboring such a dangerous creature as I."

"Right. Because...you don't really look like this."

"Is that a problem, trooper?"

Alpha-17 regarded him and Obi-Wan was confused by the weight of the hurt settling within him at the hesitation. "No, General. I can't say I'm not curious about what you'd really look like, but it's no problem from me." He scowled. "I'm not some longneck who is going to judge you for not being exactly what I was expecting."

***

Sleep died in an explosion four months later. Alpha-17 disappeared into Tipoca City to train ARC troopers after severe injuries towards the end of the first year of the war. The others who new were picked off here and there, the rate of survival for the troopers worryingly low.

Obi-Wan told the medics of the 212th, when he was finally assigned to them, but he did not tell anyone else. The longer he went without doing so, the less he felt like he could.

It was Ventress who told Cody, taking great delight in stroking the scars along Obi-Wan's exposed back as his vulnerable Commander struggled against his bonds. She had a thing for stripping clones that Obi-Wan didn't like, anymore than he liked how she kept chaining him up whenever she caught him.

"He's a pretty thing, isn't he?" she cooed at Cody, carding a hand through Obi-Wan's sweaty hair. "But...why? Isn't it odd, Commander, how he seems to be nearly everyone's type?" Her smirk was self-satisfied and Obi-Wan wanted to kick it off her face. "As if he were...made...to appeal to people, regardless of their species."

Cody just seemed confused, at least at first. What he might have said was lost behind the gag that Obi-Wan found himself more and more thankful for as Ventress continued, pointing out the marks of his surgeries. Where his spines down to their very base had been dug out, where his eyes had been capped over with lenses, where his ears had been cut down and reshaped.

When she stripped down his lower body and gave Cody a view, the anger and distress coming from the clone had sharpened into rage.

As soon as they were free, it was all Obi-Wan could do to keep Cody from beating Ventress to death with his bare hands. Which was...more flattering than he wanted to admit.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Commander," he said, as they settled into the command center of the ship they were now alone on and waited for their rescue.

Cody stared at him. "Sir, that's private information. As long as the medics knew, that's all that I would expect from you."

"Truly? You're not...unnerved?"

The answer was a shrug and what might have been the beginnings of a blush, Cody's shields once more impeccable enough that Obi-Wan couldn't actually tell his feelings in the Force. "I admit it...answered a few questions I had...but it's none of my business."

"Questions about my attractiveness?" he supplied, remembering Ventress using that as a starting point.

"You do, uh, seem to garner a lot of...cross-species interest, General."

Obi-Wan gave a gentle smile, an expression he'd practiced as a youth after noticing how the humans around him responded to it from others.

"My people weren't originally created by the Sith, like every other species of what are called 'Sithspawn' they took us and twisted us to their purposes. Sith Flesh Alchemy allows for otherwise incompatible species to breed, so that they can adopt attributes the Alchemists thought would be useful." His smile turned wry, an expression that felt more natural on his face these days. "I am attractive to so many species because I was genetically engineered to be so. The closest translation into Basic for 'Stewjoni' is 'Siren,' if you know any old Aldeeranian myths."

That got Cody's attention. "You had me read those. I thought it was just...entertainment."

"Ah, you've caught me, my dear. They're not accurate per se--as you can tell, my people no longer spend much time in the water--but they serve as warnings."

"You thought we needed a warning about you? Sir, we know you would never--"

He held up a hand, stopping whatever Cody was about to say. "When Sith are involved, Cody, when they've created you, in a way, you can never be fully trustworthy. There's always the chance that somehow, someway, they still have their grip on you."

His kind weren't prone to nightmares, but everyone he'd had since the war had started was the same--Dooku's shadowy Master finding a way to turn him on his people, on his troops, with little more than the properly worded phrase.

Cody watched him, sadness seeping out from his shields. "General...Obi-Wan...just because those demagolka changed your people somehow...that doesn't mean you're monsters."

"Not just monsters, perhaps."

***

Obi-Wan was not capable of hate, not in the way most species felt it. He knew what it was, knew what it felt like rubbing against him in the Force like a tamed tooka, what it tasted like flooding him as he sipped from a Sith opponent, but he didn't feel it.

If he could, he was almost certain that he would have fallen sometime between being shot at by his suddenly blank-feeling troopers, hearing from Yoda of how most of the Council had confronted Palpatine--Sidious, and having to watch the recording of Anakin slaughtering his way through the Temple.

"You went hunting a Sith without me?" the hiss in his words was the only sign of his emotional turmoil and he tightened his hands and tried to get himself together.

How many of his colleagues--his friends--would still be alive if they had waited?

“Important, it was, to strike quickly.” Yoda’s ears were tucked closely to his head, his shoulders slumped, but Obi-Wan had little sympathy. “The Will of the Force, to act.”

“To act without thinking, to rush headlong against a Sith powerful enough to hide from all of us,” he shot back.

Obi-Wan had known--had accepted--that a war against the Sith would mean exposing himself fully by the end. He’d even imagined that it might end up being against the hidden Sith Master, had looked into ways of reversing some of the procedures he’d gone through--at the very least for claws and teeth, and venom--and none of that mattered, apparently.

He didn’t think he could take Sidious by himself, not when the man would be prepared for attacks and surely knew what he was.

If they’d waited until Obi-Wan had returned, he could have given them the upperhand. “I sincerely doubt the ‘Will of the Force’ wanted the Jedi slaughtered,” he muttered, finally, starting off into the catacombs they hid in.

“Go to face Sidious, do you?”

“No, I’m going to find Anakin. There’s nothing we can do against Sidious, not right now.”

***

The first place he thought to look was with Padme. How many times had he and she played a game of pretending he didn’t know Anakin had spent the night there? How many times had he taken up the role of possible illicit paramore to draw attention from her closeness with Anakin?

She was near-panic, clouding the Force with her strong emotions, but she understood what they needed to do. If Anakin was caught in a torrent of the Darkside, they’d need to be very careful in talking him down.

“If we can’t reach him...will you kill him?” Her hands clutched her rounded belly, as though the children within could understand the conversation and needed comfort.

Obi-Wan took long breaths, staring down at Mustafar as the ship approached. The whole planet was rife with the Dark, making his instincts claw at the back of his mind. But it was Anakin he felt most strongly, the blazing sun of his Force present nothing but rage and fear, now.

“If we can’t reach him, that means it’s not Anakin anymore. We don’t know what Sidious did to him to get him to this point.” His hands clenched, imagining some of the stories his people shared of Sith crimes. “There might just...be nothing left of him.”

He was upsetting her, perhaps unnecessarily, but he needed her to know. Needed her to be prepared.

“Your children must be your priority, Padme. It’s what he would have thought, too.” They stared into each other’s eyes, her trying hard not to flinch away from him.

Outside, the volcanic air was harsh enough that Obi-Wan worried for her health--and Anakin's. The Force could do much, but if he wasn't careful, Anakin would ruin his lungs. He'd always been so reckless with his own body.

xxxxxx

A/N: This got a little too long to just be shoved in my drabble collection (where you'll find some other stuff using the same headcanons) so I decided to make it it's own work, even though I rewrote the ending like six times over the last few weeks.

This post has everything so far about my headcanon, but in short: Stewjoni were originally sentient predators that fed off of Force users in particular and when the fallen Jedi alchemists met up with the Sith and found out about them, they experimented on them and made them into basically Sith hunting pets.

The very original idea was because I really can't stand Stewjoni (considering it was a joke that Lucas refused to back down on) and "Stewjon is Space Scotland," and there's this Scottish legend called a "baobhan sith" that's like a siren.

Sleep is one of my clone OCs.

#character: obi wan kenobi #character: alpha 17 #ship: alpha 17 & obi wan #character: cody #ship: cody & obi wan #ship: anakin & obi wan #character: yoda #character: padme amidala #ship: padme & obi wan #theme: clone wars #theme: order 66 #theme: dark #verse: sithspawn stewjoni

16 notes · View notes