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lamaenthel · 5 months

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Tivaevae | Chapter One: Ripped At The Seams

Still struggling to emotionally recover from Master Obi-Wan's deception, Ahsoka discovers in the aftermath that twelve-year-old Boba Fett has been locked up among adults in the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center. After convincing Chancellor Palpatine to grant him a pardon, she manages to secure his release on the condition that she serve as his legal guardian. Now, with the help of Master Plo and the Wolfpack, she vows to help him track down what family he has left.

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Fandom: Star Wars Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Boba Fett, Plo Koon, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mace Windu, Kanan Jarrus, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, CC-1119 | Appo, Dexter Jettster, FLO | WA-7 (Star Wars), Shaak Ti, ARC Commander Blitz (Star Wars), CT-6922 | Dogma, Original Clone Trooper Character(s) (Star Wars), CC-3636 | Wolffe, Clone Trooper Sinker (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Comet (Star Wars), CC-2224 | Cody, CT-5597 | Jesse, CT-4860 | Boost, Aurra Sing, Tobias Beckett, Null-11 | Ordo Skirata, Kal Skirata, Original Mandalorian Characters (Star Wars), Original Droid Characters (Star Wars), Original Jedi Character(s) (Star Wars) Total Word Count: 123,000 Chapter Word Count: 6,751

"And then Grey was like skoosh skoosh skoosh–" Caleb held up an imaginary carbine and let loose a series of blasts, so enthusiastic about his reenactment that he nearly fell off of the courtyard bench. " –and the SBD just exploded! He got him right in the power core! And then-and then-and then I did a backflip off of his shoulder, and I cut three B1's in half! It was so wizard."

"You did?" Mace gasped, theatrically placing a hand on his chest in feigned shock. He had a reputation for being overly stoic, cold even, but there was nothing that defrosted the Master like his Padawans. Depa had dropped off young Caleb to have lunch with his Grand-Master with a weary gratitude that Obi-Wan remembered well; ironically, it had usually been Mace that would give him a break from Anakin more often than not, back then.

"Sure did," Caleb raised his chin proudly. "Have you ever done that with your commander, Master Obi-Wan?" he asked eagerly, looking at him from the other side of Mace with bright turquoise eyes.

Obi-Wan swallowed his mouthful of salad. "Unfortunately, no," he said with a smile. "I think I might squash poor Cody if I tried, though, I weigh a bit more than you."

"Is that why you're watching your figure?" Mace asked wryly, looking at Obi-Wan's bowl of fresh greens.

"I don't care if they're nutritionally complete, human beings were not intended to survive off of ration bars alone," Obi-Wan grumbled into his salad.

"I didn't jump off Grey, I jumped off the battle droid!" Caleb giggled.

"Ah," Obi-Wan said. "Well, the answer is still no, but I'll make sure to bring it up to him before our next strategy meeting."

"Good idea!" Caleb said with a grin, then shoved a handful of fried tatos in his mouth. His nerfburger had been inhaled two meandering stories ago.

"Well, I'm impressed. That sounds like a very successful first mission." Mace gave him a pat on the back then added an unholy amount of orbakradish paste to his bowl of red turu rice, green peppers and bantha strips.

"Can I have some?" Caleb asked curiously, staring at the bright green bottle his grand-master had pulled from his pocket curiously.

"It's very spicy," Mace warned before leaving a tiny smudge on the boy's plate, then took a stoic bite of his rice bowl.

Caleb carefully dipped a corner of his fried tato in the orbakradish and took a bite. His eyes went wide. "Ow," he said faintly, and held his mouth open. "Aow. Aow."

Mace chuckled, dipped a tato in the cup of vinegar on the other side of Caleb's plate, then popped it in his open mouth. "I did warn you," he said as Caleb furiously chewed. "Orbakradish isn't like capsaicin. For that, you need some sort of cream. To cure this, you need vinegar."

Caleb sighed with relief. "Thanks, Master." He hurriedly popped another vinegar-soaked tato in his mouth, then finished off the rest of the plate with the speed that only eleven-year-old boys could manage without making themselves sick. Mace and Obi-Wan exchanged amused looks while they ate their own meals at a less tornadic pace.

"Go on, Padawan. Time to meditate, then practice your forms at the training salle." Mace patted Caleb on the back and took his empty plate once he'd licked it clean.

"Will you come and– I mean, I would be honored if you would spar with me after your Council meeting is done, Master." Caleb said bashfully. "If you want to. I, um, I know you're busy."

"I'm not sure how long I'll be, but I'll head down to the salles as soon as we're done. I'd be happy to spar with you, Padawan." Mace patted his cheek fondly and winked.

"Okay!" Caleb bowed hurriedly to Mace and then Obi-Wan. "Bye, Masters!" He took off at a run, almost tripping on his robes twice before disappearing around the corner.

"I miss that age," Obi-Wan said forlornly. "They're still so enthusiastic about everything. Once they hit puberty…"

"The attitude, I know," Mace said knowingly. He took a final bite from his rice bowl and reached a hand out for Obi-Wan's dish. "I'm grateful for Depa and Devan. Echuu was a handful. Girls are easier."

"Girls are not easier," Obi-Wan snorted, then rubbed his bald head, textured with a thousand offended bumps. The whole thing was so damn itchy, he'd had to meditate three times that morning just to keep his sanity. Perhaps Lace had some procaine cream in the medbay that he could borrow until all of the hairs had poked through the skin.

"Mine were," Mace shrugged.

"Yours aren't vindictive," Obi-Wan sighed.

"Why would they be?" Mace asked blithely. "I trained them well. They are above pettiness."

Obi-Wan glared at the sky instead of Mace. "Lucky you," he said to the speeder traffic above the Temple.

"I warned you about the consequences of leaving Anakin and Ahsoka out of the loop," Mace reminded him. "You insisted."

"I know." They both stood and began the long walk to the Council chambers elevator.

Mace passed their bamboo dishes onto a waste droid when they passed one then fished around for something in his pocket. "And you are the one who suggested that they go on the mission that 'killed' you," he pointed out, then popped a mint candy into his mouth.

"I know," Obi-Wan huffed. "I understand that my actions have consequences, Mace, I'm not a child."

"Then why are you so upset?" Mace asked.

"I'm not upset," Obi-Wan said automatically.

Mace rolled his eyes. "You aren't at peace, that's for certain."

"I–" Obi-Wan raised his hands and let them fall. "Ahsoka's never been one to hold a grudge at all, let alone at me. I expected the cold shoulder from Anakin, but not her."

"Ah. She's still hurt, then."

"She's got no reason to be hurt," Obi-Wan insisted.

"She discovered your 'corpse,' my old friend," Mace said.

"Please, p-please Bobi, open your eyes, open your… no, no, no, please no, Bobi please–"

"Would you really be so unmoved if you'd discovered hers?"

She fell to the ground like a ragdoll, dead from a single touch. Her limbs were twisted and her yellow eyes stayed open, filmy and veined with black like the rest of the Dark Side corruption that covered her.

He banished the memories. "That's different," Obi-Wan insisted. "We are not meant to outlive our Padawans."

"Yet we do." Mace called the elevator. "More and more often, it seems. And I do not see that changing until this war is over."

That reminded him. "Have you discussed your idea with Master Yoda?" Obi-Wan asked quietly.

"It's difficult to find a good time to propose an assassination," Mace answered. "Especially the assassination of his old Padawan."

The elevator arrived. The two Masters stepped on and began the journey up.

"You've discussed it with Quinlan?" Mace asked.

"I have. He's not unwilling."

"Good to know."

The two fell silent, and Obi-Wan commanded the mental image of Ahsoka's corpse lying at the feet of her killer to stop popping into his thoughts. The encounter on Mortis felt like a dream. He still wasn't sure what had actually happened, what was real and what was a vision, but the memory of Anakin's yellow eyes and his little girl lying dead and corrupted by the Dark side haunted him at the most inopportune moments.

May he become one with the Force before ever seeing such horrors again.

The elevator opened. The two walked down the hall to the inside of the Council chambers and took their seats in companionable silence. They were still a bit early, and no one else had yet arrived.

"Caleb was not supposed to be in active combat yet," Mace said after a few moments. "In case you were wondering. The mission he was assigned was a scouting mission. The droids were a surprise."

"Do you think I'm judging you, old friend?" Obi-Wan asked with a raised brow.

"No, but I thought you may want to know." Mace leaned back with an unreadable expression on his face. "He is very skilled, but I personally would prefer he not be on the front lines until he gains more experience."

Obi-Wan remembered Ahsoka eagerly bouncing off of the transport and straight onto the front lines of one of the most gruesome campaigns of the early war. "I understand," he said gently. "Unfortunately, there's only one way to get experience."

"I'm aware." The muscle in Mace's jaw worked a bit before he settled into his usual serenity.

"Greetings, Master Windu. Master Kenobi." Shaak-Ti's hologram flickered into view and she bowed her head.

The two men bowed theirs in return. "How fares Kamino?" Obi-Wan asked lightly.

"Sunny, for a change," Shaak-Ti said with a small smile. "The cadets have been training outside all day on the landing pads."

Mace smiled at her. "I'm happy to hear it."

"As am I," Plo said pleasantly. He and Depa bowed from the entrance, Yoda hobbling beside them. Depa spared a fond smile for her old Master as she took her seat, which Mace returned.

More holograms popped up; Kit Fisto, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Saesee Tiin, Agen Kolar, Coleman Kcaj, Luminara Unduli, Oppo Rancisis, and Stass Allie were all still on the front lines. Kit's hologram was cross-legged and floating subtly, broadcasting underwater from the ocean world of Klarn.

"Begin, we shall," Yoda said after clearing his throat. "May the Force guide us as we proceed."

Murmurs of agreement followed him.

"May I be the first to compliment Master Kenobi's haircut," Kit's hologram grinned at him.

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan deadpanned, resisting the urge to scratch his blasted scalp again.

"We are all very glad to see you alive and well," Shaak-Ti added with a twinkle in her eye. "You should stay close-shaven. You look twenty years younger."

Obi-Wan sighed. He was very aware; it was half the reason he had grown the beard in the first place. Shaak-Ti's tinkling giggle rang like a bell at his reaction.

A round of chuckles echoed her and Mace held up a hand to quiet them. "Our first order of business," he began with a smile, reading off a datapad, "is– oh." His smile disappeared and his eyebrows went up as he glanced over at Obi-Wan. "Padawan Ahsoka Tano has requested to speak with us."

Obi-Wan sat at attention. "She has?" he asked, surprised.

"Go ahead and send her in," Mace said into the comlink in his chair. "Do you know what this is about?" he asked Obi-Wan curiously.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I've no idea," he answered.

The chamber doors opened and Obi-Wan watched Ahsoka step primly inside, pointedly not looking at him despite his centrality in her line of sight. He crossed his legs and frowned.

"Koh-to-yah, little 'Soka," Plo said. "Why have you come before us today?"

"Koh-to-yah, Master Plo. And thank you for allowing me to speak with you on such short notice, Masters," Ahsoka said politely. She made a deep bow and stood with perfect posture, her hands clasped in front of her. "I wish that this was not necessary, but as a Jedi I am a mandated reporter of abuse. If I witness the mistreatment of a child, I must speak up."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, his ire easing. "What did you witness, dear?" he asked, the epithet slipping out automatically.

Her eyes slid onto him and he was immediately taken aback by how cold they were. "I need to report that there is a twelve-year-old human child being held in a maximum security prison facility alongside murderers, rapists, and violent criminals of all sorts right here on Coruscant," she said icily.

Obi-Wan's stomach dropped. He already knew who she was referring to, and cac, it should have been him reporting it. He'd completely forgotten about his encounter with Boba Fett. He had been so consumed with not just keeping his cover and managing Bane, but blocking the Force bond he shared with his Padawans in order to sell his death that Boba had simply slipped his mind. Force, the shock of seeing a twelve-year-old clone in the middle of supermax dissipated almost as soon as it had struck and Obi-Wan had just… left him there. He felt an alkaline knot of guilt twist around his belly.

There was a smattering of surprised gasps among the Councilors.

"Who is this child?" Depa demanded.

"What could he have possibly done to be imprisoned?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked, bewildered.

Master Luminara shook her head. "We must contact the Guard at once, surely there was an error–"

Ahsoka held up a hand. "The boy is Boba Fett, Masters. After his failed attempt on Master Windu's life, he was sent to the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center."

Looks of grim understanding passed between the Council members. Mace leaned forward. "He's in an adult prison?" he asked, anger coloring the edges of his voice. "Has he been there since he was taken into custody?"

"It would appear so, Master, yes."

Mace sank back, frowning severely. "I recommended leniency," he murmured, almost to himself. "The Chancellor assured me his age and his trauma would be taken into account. I believed he'd be sent to a juvenile facility at worst."

"As did I," Plo said heatedly. "Adult prison, for a child. This is not justice."

"Padawan Tano, find out this information, how did you?" Yoda asked, frowning.

"Well, Master," she said, turning, and Obi-Wan was slightly mollified to hear her address Yoda with the same frostbitten tone. She still hadn't forgiven him for Dogma. The clone was thankfully still alive, as Shaak-Ti had made enough of a fuss on Kamino to have gotten him imprisoned instead of immediately euthanized, but Ahsoka wouldn't be satisfied until he was back in the 501st. "I was viewing the helmet-cam footage from the prison riot that Master Kenobi participated in, and–"

"Is that footage not classified?" Ki-Adi-Mundi interrupted, frowning.

"The report is, but the footage was not, no," she said. "I watched it multiple times, and after I saw Master Kenobi fighting Boba I checked his report." Her eyes flicked onto him and then back to Ki-Adi-Mundi. "There's no mention of Boba in the non-redacted portions."

There was no mention of Boba in it at all, because Obi-Wan had forgotten about him like an idiot. His cheeks burned with embarrassment. A dozen heads turned and stared at him, and he'd never missed his beard more than he did at that moment.

"You fought Boba Fett?" Plo asked him sharply.

"Moralo Eval paid him to start a brawl with me in order to provide a distraction for his and Bane's escape," Obi-Wan said, staring at Ahsoka. She was very carefully studying her boots. He'd bought her those boots. "After I inserted myself into the escape party I… lost track of him."

"He is very small for his age," Ahsoka said with false sympathy. "I know you had bigger concerns at the time, Master Kenobi."

Obi-Wan's skin crawled like it was covered in ants. All of the extra blood rushing to his face was making his stubble itchier than ever.

"We will contact the Chancellor regarding Boba immediately, Ahsoka," Plo insisted, on the edge of his seat and visibly displeased. "We will ensure the boy is placed into a foster home and receives mind healing. Thank you for your diligence, and for bringing this injustice to our attention."

"Thank you, Master," Ahsoka said with a smile, then bowed to him. Obi-Wan felt irrationally jealous of the warmth in her tone. "But I am not sure that a foster home would be the best fit for Boba. He's young, but skilled at both combat and subterfuge. I'm concerned that he would escape and be at just as much risk on his own." She frowned. "He would likely seek out his father's old compatriots again."

"A fair concern," Kit conceded, his smile long gone.

"Do you have a suggestion?" Depa asked mildly.

Ahsoka clicked her heels together. "I would like to volunteer to serve as Boba's temporary legal guardian until I can reunite him with his family," she said solemnly.

The Council chamber went silent in surprise.

"You're only sixteen," Obi-Wan said faintly. "You can't–"

"Actually, as sixteen is the age of responsibility on Shili, I can," she said frostily. "I am a legal adult."

"It's seventeen on Coruscant," he argued. "You–"

"I believe that if I am trusted to lead a battalion of clone troopers into combat, I should be trusted to safeguard the well-being of a single child," she said, speaking over him. "And according to the most recent immigration statutes passed in the Senate, as a full, dual citizen of both worlds, I am actually considered a legal adult on Coruscant." She smiled at him, all teeth.

"Does he have a family?" Saesee Tiin asked. "I was under the impression that Jango Fett was a loner."

"I spoke with the older clones before coming to the Council, Master," Ahsoka said with perfect poise, and Force did it irritate Obi-Wan to see her use her manners for once. "They informed me that there were members of the Cuy'val Dar – that is, the Mandalorian trainers that Jango Fett recruited to train the clones for war – several of them were very close to him. Under the Mandalorian tradition, some could be considered family."

"What an excellent idea, Padawan," Plo said. "I would be grateful if you would come with me to meet with the Chancellor. I'm certain that you will be able to help me persuade him of the right course of action. We will seek out these Cuy'val Dar together, and reunite young Boba with what family remains to him."

Ahsoka bowed again. "It would be my honor, Master," she said sweetly.

Obi-Wan continued to silently seethe.

"Thank you again, Masters, for taking the time to speak with me," she said warmly, then her eyes flickered over to Obi-Wan. "I do hope that Master Kenobi is not censured too severely for failing to report such egregious abuse of a child. I'm certain he was simply preoccupied with his mission."

That was it. Ahsoka did not get to march into the Council chambers wearing boots that he had bought for her and humiliate him in front of his peers out of childish spite. Obi-Wan's hand slammed down onto the arm of his chair, startling everyone. "A word, Padawan," he said through gritted teeth.

"Of course, Master Kenobi," she said serenely.

He stood and led her brusquely from the Council chamber by her right bicep, ignoring the whispers of his fellow Council members behind them.

"An deach thu às mo chiall?" he hissed once the doors had closed and they had a spot of privacy. He released her arm and glared down at her. "Carson a tha thu a’ toirt eas-urram dhomh?"

"Apologies, Master Kenobi," Ahsoka said politely. "I didn't intend to publicly disrespect you."

He stared down at her. Her refusal to speak Maor-Grásta back to him hurt more than the silent treatment. That was their language. No one else at the Temple spoke the indigenous language of the planet crudely known as Stewjon, not even Anakin, though he had tried to teach him. "So this is how you're going to be, then?" he asked finally.

She blinked at him. "I'm not sure what you mean, Master."

"You damn well do," he snapped, and finally gave in to the urge to scratch his damn scalp. "This is childish of you, Ahsoka. You're better than this."

"Better than what?" she asked, cocking her head. "I've been nothing but polite, Master, but if you find my conduct unbecoming then I apologize. I will meditate on our interaction until Master Plo calls me to meet with the Chancellor." She bowed and turned to leave.

Obi-Wan caught her by the left arm and spun her back around. She hissed in pain and ripped her arm away.

"Please refrain from putting your hands on me, Master Kenobi," she said frostily.

Obi-Wan stared at her, knowing that if he asked what was wrong with her arm he'd get no answer. "I'm not putting my… Ahsoka, please, stop this."

"I'm not sure what you wish me to stop, Master."

"Stop acting like you've never met me before!" Obi-Wan said, raising his voice in frustration.

For just a second, her placid mask crumbled and he saw the devastation she was hiding underneath. The mask reappeared and she looked away, pursed her lips and shrugged. "Recent events have shown that I haven't, Master," she said quietly. "Not really."

Obi-Wan sagged and this time, he didn't stop her from walking away.

Ahsoka went through her mental checklist again. She couldn't muck this up. If she somehow pissed off Chancellor Palpatine or failed to convince him that Boba didn't belong in supermax, the kid was screwed.

"Do not be nervous, little 'Soka," Plo whispered, squeezing Ahsoka's right shoulder reassuringly. They sat together on a plush bench in a waiting area right outside the Chancellor's office.

"I can't help it, Master," she whispered back. "What if I make it even worse, somehow?"

"I would advise you, respectfully of course, to think of what your Master would not do and try that."

Ahsoka snorted. His aura was a little too gold with humor for the seriousness of the situation.

"Trust in the Force. We are in the right, here, and we know this."

She nodded. "Yes, Master."

"You may enter," one of Chancellor Palpatine's secretaries called from the doorway; a short, plump Human woman with black hair shorn down to the scalp and the pale skin of someone who worked and lived exclusively indoors.

Ahsoka took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then followed Master Plo to the Chancellor's office. He was still sitting at his desk, writing something with an electric pen that showed up as a language she didn't recognize on the left side of his desk.

"Master Koon," the Chancellor smiled, and bowed his head. "And Padawan Ahsoka. My, how you've grown since I last saw you! I must say, Anakin raves about you every time we meet. He is very proud of you."

"Thank you, Chancellor," Ahsoka said sheepishly, ducking her head. There was nothing specific about the Chancellor himself that put her on edge, it was the office. There was just something unnerving about it. The statues of the Four Sages seemed to watch her from their posts bordering the room, and some of the art vibrated weirdly in the Force. Nothing she could pin down, just off.

She peered down at the unfamiliar writing on the Chancellor's desk. "That's a beautiful script," she said, projecting her aura out over the room with green serenity-amiability. It helped block out the weird vibrations of his artwork. "I don't recognize it."

"It's the poet's script," the Chancellor said, his naturally violet aura gone blue with appreciation. "It's an old traditional practice on Naboo. It's never been a spoken language, but one used solely for the arts."

"That's fascinating," Ahsoka said, returning his smile. "Do you write poetry, Chancellor?"

He chuckled and looked down, darkening with humility. "Oh, I dabble," he confessed with a smile. "It's a bit self-indulgent, of course, but it calms my mind."

"Nonsense, Chancellor," Plo assured him. "It is good to know that even in this period of war and violence, our leader makes time to create something beautiful for the galaxy."

Ahsoka was impressed. Plo could give Ob– Master Kenobi a run for his credits when it came to schmoozing.

"Ah, well," the Chancellor shrugged, his smile widening. "I doubt you called for an emergency meeting to discuss my poetry, dear. What can I do for you?"

Ahsoka sat up straight. "There has been a grave miscarriage of justice, Chancellor," she said solemnly. "Boba Fett has been placed into supermax alongside adults instead of a juvenile facility. He is a Fett clone, yes, but totally unaltered. He ages at a normal rate, not the accelerated rate of the troopers." She adjusted her projection to include a yellow ribbon of pity. "He's only twelve, Sir. Every second he spends in that place his life, his- his bodily sanctity is at risk."

Chancellor Palpatine went gray with surprise. "Oh, goodness," he said, immediately swiping away his poetry and summoning Boba's file up to the holoscreen of his desk. "Let me see here– ah." His holoscreen filled up with copies of legal documents, medical records, and crime scene holopics. "It seems that the judge presiding over his case determined that he was too dangerous to be kept in a juvenile facility." He glanced at her. "I cannot say that I disagree. He is unnaturally skilled for a boy his age, from what I have heard. He killed a Marshall Commander."

"Respectfully, Chancellor, Commander Ponds was murdered by Aurra Sing. Boba could not pull the trigger," Master Plo gently corrected.

"I understand the risks, Chancellor," Ahsoka said. "I would like to volunteer to serve as his legal guardian until I can reunite him with his father's Mandalorian family."

The Chancellor's eyebrows almost hit his hairline. "Jango Fett had family?" he asked, going a lighter gray with shock.

"In the Mandalorian tradition of found family, yes," Ahsoka nodded.

"So young Boba would escape punishment for his crimes against the Republic?" the Chancellor asked after a moment of curt silence.

"Boba Fett is but a child, Chancellor," Plo said peacefully. "He was manipulated by individuals that were once acquainted with his father and they used his grief to their advantage. They abandoned him at the first opportunity."

The Chancellor nodded, thinking. "That may be so, Master Koon, but he did kill hundreds of his fellow clones through his actions."

"He did, Chancellor, that can't be disputed," Ahsoka said softly, projecting strong amber amenability at him. "But he's an orphan, and he's twelve. He's exceptionally vulnerable to manipulation by adults that knew his father. They're the only connection he has left to him."

"The cadets that he infiltrated reported that he seemed reluctant to leave them to their fate," Plo piped up. "While his quest was misguided from the start, his target was Master Windu. The loss of clone life and the destruction of The Endurance was wholly unintentional."

"While sabotaging the hyperdrive of The Endurance, he had an opportunity to end the life of clone trooper Rivers," Ahsoka added. "He spared his life and stunned him instead. We truly believe that if not for the presence of Aurra Sing, Castas, and Bossk, he never would have taken that step."

"So you propose instead that I pardon the one who killed hundreds of clone troopers, naval officers, and support staff on account of his age?" Chancellor Palpatine steepled his hands underneath his chin and looked at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry, my dear, but I cannot in good conscience do such a thing. Aside from the morality of it, the boy could wreak untold damage if he escaped your custody."

"I promise he won't!" Ahsoka exclaimed, leaning forward. "Please, Chancellor. I know he made a terrible error in judgment that cost many lives, but he's twelve."

"So you've said," the Chancellor said dryly, lowering his hands. "Ahsoka–"

Ahsoka impulsively reached across his desk and clasped his hands. "He needs rehabilitation, not a life sentence before it's even began," she said earnestly. She wouldn't go so far as to try and mind trick him, not with Plo right there, but her Empathy was stronger with physical touch. She let burnt-orange supplication roll down her arms and flow from her hands onto his. "Please, Chancellor," she said, popping her porg eyes. "Just give him a chance."

The Chancellor's aura flushed copper with affection-agreement. "You do make a compelling argument," he said fondly, withdrawing his hands after giving hers a squeeze. "The Great Negotiator has taught you well."

Ahsoka ducked her head with a small smile, trying not to let him feel the cold shock of hurt that Master Kenobi's nickname triggered.

"Very well." He raised his chin to look over Ahsoka's shoulder at his secretary. "Go fetch Commander Fox, please."

"Right away, Sir." The secretary scurried off and the Chancellor drew up a document.

"I shall grant Boba Fett a full pardon, effective immediately," he said, then glanced up at Ahsoka with a smile. He transferred something onto a datapad and handed it to her. It was a legal certificate declaring her the legal guardian of one Boba Fett.

Oh, kriff, she hadn't actually let herself believe that she'd get this far. She had a kid. She had a shabla kid. A shabla clone kid.

"Congratulations, my dear, it's a boy," he said with a small chuckle and a wink. "I do hope Anakin isn't too cross with you. I can't imagine that he expected to become a grandfather quite this early."

Ahsoka's stripes went hot. Her Master… was not going to be pleased with her, to put it lightly, but she just couldn't leave Boba in there a second longer than necessary if she could put a stop to it.

"Please, 'Soka, you have to get him out of there," Rex pleaded, staring at the screen with an aura gone stark white with shock-horror-outrage. "He's so little. They'll kill him, they'll– osik, what have they already done to him–"

She would have done it anyway, but Force if Rex's begging wasn't compelling. She'd break Boba out if she had to.

But really, Anakin was going to kill her once he got back from Toydaria with that Force-sensitive toddler.

"Commander!" Chancellor Palpatine said brightly over Ahsoka's shoulder. "Please escort Master Koon and Padawan Tano down to the detention center. Boba Fett is being released into her custody, effective immediately."

"Oh. Interesting. As you say, Sir," Fox said, then turned to Ahsoka and Plo. "Ready whenever you both are," he nodded.

"Take care, Ahsoka," Chancellor Palpatine said warmly, standing along with them. "And do be on guard with young Boba. From what I understand, the boy is quite crafty, despite his tender age."

"Oh I will, Chancellor, don't worry. I remember how much of a handful he was." Ahsoka bowed and tried to ignore the way the statues of the sages stared at her. "Thank you again. You've saved a life today."

"And my thanks as well, Chancellor," Plo added, bowing after her. "We appreciate your expediency."

"I wish you luck in your endeavor, my dear." Palpatine winked at her. "And don't be afraid to visit more often. I've got some stories about Anakin as a youth that you might enjoy."

Ahsoka's stripes flushed again and she picked at her thumb's cuticle.

"Alright, General, Commander. Let's get you over to the prison before sundown." Fox slung his carbine over his shoulder and led the way out.

Boba curled up tighter on his side, willing the pain in his sides to go away. After he'd jumped Hardeen it had been chaos. He wasn't sure if it was the guards or the other bastards he was locked in here with that had broken his ribs, but it didn't really matter. He needed to get better. He couldn't afford to look weak. Prison was worse than a jungle, at least an animal just killed you and was done with it. The predators here liked to play with their food, first.

"Come on, little man, come bunk with me. I know it gets cold at night, you must be shivering with only a lizard to keep you warm–"

At least in solitary Boba could focus all of his energy on healing instead of defending himself. He chewed on his split lip and readjusted his face against the wall so that his black eye was pressed directly against the cold surface.

"Time to go, Fett."

Boba was sitting upright and ready to respond in under a second. Nobody would know by looking at him that he was holding his breath so as not to scream from the pain. One meiloorun, two meiloorun, three meiloorun–

"Go where?" he asked after a few seconds, cool as a caniphant. Fox, on the other side of the bars, had two DC-17 sidearms, a DC-15A carbine, and two vibroblade hits sticking out from his gauntlets. Two pairs of cuffs hung from his belt next to a small canister of capsaicin spray.

Boba could get to the spray the easiest, kick the back of Fox's knee, twist his arm and grab the blaster–

"It's your lucky day, cyar'solus," Fox said, undoing the biometric locks on his cell.

"Don't call me that," he snapped. Damn it, Boba didn't want to go back to genpop yet, he was still too injured. The guards tried to watch out for him; some of them did, anyway, the ones who didn't hiss vod'kyramud when he passed them in the halls. Bossk usually stuck up for him but he was just one man. Boba already had a size disadvantage, but with his ribs fucked his speed suffered. He eyed the capsaicin spray at Fox's belt again. He'd get his ass kicked if he went for it, but they'd keep him in solitary longer. Fox had the frame of a gundark but he wasn't a shabuir, he would just give him another lump or two before locking his cell again instead of rebreaking things on purpose.

Fox snickered. "I'll call you whatever I want. Now face down on the floor, you know how this works."

Yeah, he did. Boba swallowed hard and carefully got on his belly, watching the canister of spray swing closer. The floor was hard but the cold felt good. He took a deep breath and prepared to make his move.

As if Fox knew what he'd been thinking, he walked around him in a wide circle and approached from behind before cuffing him. He pulled Boba to his feet, gentler than he expected. "You're being given a second chance, kid," he said quietly. "Don't kark it up."

"The fuck does that mean?" Boba asked faintly; even with Fox's careful grip, he wasn't able to draw in air properly with the way his ribs were screaming.

"You're getting out."

"What?" Boba tried to spin around and look at Fox, but he kept a firm hold of his cuffed hands and kept him from turning.

"Walk, squirt," Fox said in a bored voice.

Where was he going? Where were they sending him? It hit him then, what had to have happened; Aurra. He knew she wouldn't abandon him. She'd had to make a tactical retreat, that was all. Somehow she'd pulled in a favor or used her connections in the guild, or maybe even kidnapped a judge. He fought down a smirk as they walked past the other inmates, all howling and hissing and complaining about his special treatment.

He was foolish to have given up on Aurra. She really did care about him.

"Stand here." Fox started undoing the locks to the hall that led to the private interview rooms, the ones that prisoners used to meet with their attorneys.

Boba never had an attorney. He had gone through sentencing on his own.

"Alright, walk." Fox took him by the cuffs and shoved him forward through the door. "And be respectful."

"Respectful to who?" Boba grouched.

"Your new mum," Fox snickered, stopping in front of a door halfway down the hall. "Congratulations. You've been adopted."

Boba whipped his head up so fast that black spots appeared in his eyes. "I've been fucking what?" he squeaked.

Fox pushed him inside of the interview room while he was still reeling. Instead of Aurra, the two Jedi who had arrested him were waiting inside; a Kel Dor who towered over everyone, even Fox, and a scrawny orange Togruta with big blue bug eyes and two sabers on her belt. She was taller than he remembered.

"Koh-to-yah, Boba Fett," the Kel Dor said, bowing to him. "I am Jedi Master Plo Koon, and this is Padawan Ahsoka Tano."

"The fuck do you cunts want?" Boba spat, furious at himself for being so stupid that he thought Aurra would come for him. He was such a gullible di'kut. Of course she didn't really care. He was never anything but clout to her, just something of Jango's that she could show off.

The Tog blinked at him, obviously shocked. The little princess obviously wasn't used to bad language. "I, um, I…"

"Go ahead, Ahsoka," the Kel Dor said with a little pat on her back.

She took a deep breath, stepped forward, and then smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. He felt the tension in his back muscles ease a little, weirdly enough. "I want to get you out of here, if that's alright with you."

"Why the fuck should I go anywhere with you?" Boba asked suspiciously, then backed up so he could keep the both of them in plain view. "You're the cunts who put me in here. Why do you care?"

"We never meant for you to be placed in a place such as this, young man," the Kel Dor said apologetically.

"We want to help you find your family, Boba," the Tog said earnestly.

"Are you both fucking stupid?" Boba snapped. "I don't have any family. The Jedi killed the only family I had."

The Tog and Kel Dor exchanged looks. "I know, Boba," the Tog said. "And I'm sorry for your loss."

Boba looked at his feet.

"Why don't we be on our way?" the Kel Dor suggested. "We have much to discuss, but there's no need to do so on an empty stomach. I find myself craving a milkshake."

"Oooh, I could go for a milkshake," the Tog said with her brow markings raised. "How about you, Boba?"

"I don't want a fucking milkshake, I want to know what's going on!" Boba said, backing up into Fox. He… he needed to get away from these people. They had some sort of weird plan for him, he was sure of it. What if they wanted to send him back to Kamino? Maybe they wanted to string him up in a lab and use him to make more of their precious troopers. Without Dad the longnecks couldn't make them like they used to, and Boba was a perfect copy. "What did Fox mean? He said I was going to meet my new mum, what did he mean by that?"

The Tog bit her lip and looked at him. "That, um, that would be me," she said sheepishly. "I… I'm your legal guardian."

"You're my legal guardian?" Boba stared at her. She looked barely older than him, though she was a lot taller than he remembered.

"Yep," she said happily, rocking back on her heels. "So, what do you say? Ready to go?"

Boba glanced up at Fox, who gave him a reassuring nod. "Not like I have a fucking choice, do I?" he asked sullenly.

"No, you don't," the Kel Dor – Koon, Boba remembered he said his name was – said gently. "But I imagine that you would choose to leave the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center."

"Obviously," Boba said, frowning.

"So." Koon shrugged. "Shall we?"

The Tog smiled brightly at him. He realized that she was nervous, and for some reason that made him feel better.

"Fine." Boba rubbed his wrists after Fox unlocked his cuffs. Whatever. Fox didn't need to help him, he could do this on his own. He just had to stick with them long enough to get out of prison. The second the idiots turned their backs, he'd be out of there. Boba glanced up and met the Tog's nervous gaze. "But I'm not calling you fucking Mum."

Author's Notes:

MAOR-GRÁSTA TRANSLATIONS An deach thu às mo chiall?: Have you gone insane? Carson a tha thu a’ toirt eas-urram dhomh?: Why are you disrespecting me? MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS cyar'solus: beloved one, the clones' nickname for Boba since he was a special snowflake chosen baby (Thank you Squid_Ink 😘) shabuir: motherfucker vod'kyramud: brother-killer osik: shit OTHER NOTES Mace has a picture of all of his padawans and grand-padawans in his wallet and he shows everyone constantly. It's canon, George Lucas actually told me himself. Palpatine was pretty easy to convince, wasn't he? It's almost like he likes sowing discord between Anakin and his loved ones hmm odd yes very odd indeed Ponds was promoted for plot related purposes ✌️

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork @soliloquy-of-nemo Dividers: @saradika-graphics

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