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Notes: ROTS AU.
yellow 14: I suspect you're right about Qui-Gon liking Obi-Wan's humor. Strangely enough, I think Dooku appreciates it too.
Andaere: Well, I certainly wouldn't want you to lose your mind! :) And speaking of Fire and Ice, that does remind me that I need to go back and reformat that sometime. Anyway, it is quite true that Dooku has been winning a lot lately, but, believe me, Obi-Wan is about to win big. And Dooku… well, I wouldn't anticipate his death quite yet.
charliebrown1234 : Yeah, the clearance card offers some possibilities, doesn't it? Obi-Wan will make the most of it. :)
XxRandom NemesisxX: Haha, thanks! I appreciate that, but I think getting published will be quite a while yet, if ever. There are a lot of people out there with more talent and far more experience. That's what fanfiction is for—give me some practice.
ThE-CrAzY-01: Dooku won't get away with this stuff forever.
Tosharino: It's been slow in coming, but they are finally getting their opportunity.
Mreeb: Honestly, the thing I adore most about Obi-Wan's character is his fantastic sense of humor. It's so unique and SO much fun to write.
Pronker:Obi-Wan in a military uniform? I don't think there's a girl anywhere who wouldn't like to see that. More seriously, though, I think you're very right in pointing out that Padme has been able to move past what her role was, whereas Bail is having more trouble. He is on her side, though, and even though he stated that Obi-Wan had committed a crime, he never really intended to have him tried for it.
anakinpadmekenobi: It's true: Dooku is very contradictory. He likes to think he's got everything figured out, but when you throw in personal feelings, he's as fallible as anyone else.
Booknerd101: You're absolutely right about Anakin being sort of Dooku's great-grandson. Odd that Dooku doesn't acknowledge that, isn't it? I actually did that on purpose: I wanted to make it clear that, even if Dooku would like to think so, it's not just about who trained whom, at least not entirely. Dooku is so heavily intrigued by Obi-Wan 1) because he was close to Qui-Gon and is thus sort of a remnant of someone Dooku cared for (far more than Anakin would be a remnant, as Anakin only knew him briefly) and 2) because Dooku can see similarities between himself and Obi-Wan. About the second question, though: no, Grevious won't show up in this story. Honestly, I really just forgot about him. Let's just say he ran off after the droid army was decommissioned, hmm? (Aka, my bad, I'll try to add some line at some point in order to fill that plot hole—thanks for catching it).
Rosabell: You're opinion is always very welcomed and very much appreciated! I do have to disagree with you, though, about Dooku being slightly out of character by analyzing all his interactions with Obi-Wan: Obi-Wan is always a sort of exception. He makes Dooku do things he wouldn't normally do, most notably care. It's because it's Obi-Wan that he bothers to pick apart every little detail. Anyone else, and he wouldn't care nearly as much. He'd have a reaction like he did in the Senate. You do raise a very good point about Anakin needing some dialogue with Dooku, though—when I originally was writing this part, I thought the same thing, which is actually why Anakin interacts with Dooku in the next chapter.
"I need you to cut my hair."
Anakin is sprawled on the couch, hand lazily grazing the floor, fingertips just barely skimming as he watches another podracing vid. It's been a fairly uneventful evening where he's been left alone with his own thoughts. Quite honestly, he had been looking forward to Obi-Wan's return: he doesn't really like his own inner monologue sometimes.
And, clearly, Obi-Wan's about to make his evening more interesting.
"Ah, pardon?"
"Short, please. Similar to how it was when I was first your master, but a fringe to cover my forehead."
Anakin sits up, holovid forgotten. "You like your hair the way it is. Why would you want me to do that?"
"I can't look like myself." He's already hurrying around the kitchen, busying himself with retrieving the items they'll need. The way he moves—it's with a nervous energy that coils in his limbs, holding back energy, but indicating that when he needs it, it'll be there. He's like this before battle. Ready. Anticipatory. At his most efficient.
Anakin feels something inside of him shift. If Obi-Wan is ready for something, he better be too.
Once Obi-Wan has collected the items he needs, he places them on the table and pulls out a chair, looking at Anakin expectantly. There's no question in his gaze: just a clear, calm stare.
"Why not?" Anakin asks slowly.
He's at least curious enough to get up and move toward the table. Obi-Wan has always liked to keep his hair a bit longer, at least since he'd been allowed to grow it out. That was why, of course: only padawans have short-cropped hair. He was a knight, and then a master. Jedi of those ranks typically kept their hair longer to signify their status—that they weren't required to keep it short anymore.
"Here." Carefully, Obi-Wan pulls something out of his pocket and thrusts it out toward Anakin.
Anakin takes it in his fingers, turning it over slowly. That feeling Obi-Wan gave him—that knowledge that something is about to happen—flips over inside him and expands.
Impossible. Obi-Wan is good, but he can't be this good.
"How did you get this?"
"You don't have enough faith in me," he says with a smile. "I'm clever."
"And so humble too."
"I've been around you for a very long time."
"I make you humble?"
Obi-Wan just chuckles and settles himself down in the chair, hands resting on his knees. "Oh, Anakin, I've never met anyone who's as adept at pointing out my faults as you are."
He does his best. Someone's got to, and it might as well be him, since otherwise the venerable Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi might never hear any criticism. He's the golden boy of the Council. Perfect Jedi. Of course, none of them ever had the pleasure of living with Obi-Wan. He's got his faults. Obsessive-compulsive disorder is probably one of them, or so Anakin enjoys claiming.
"So," he continues, handing the clearance card back to Obi-Wan, "you want me to cut your hair? You're not going to look like the guy you stole that card from, even if I do. It'd take a lot of work to be that ugly."
"I don't need to look like him. I just need to not look like me."
He steps up behind Obi-Wan and grabs the cutting shears off the table. "A quick in and out job, then? What do you have planned?"
Obi-Wan leans his head back, threads his hands through his hair to loosen it, and then shakes it out. "I already have the means to look like a soldier. That will keep anyone from immediately assuming I'm out of place, thereby giving me a bit of time to look around, arrange for a ship to be ready to go. Fueled, pre-flight check, etc. I also hope I'll be able to find a detonator to open our door with."
Nodding, Anakin combs out Obi-Wan's hair and reaches for the shears again. It's not like this is the first time they've ever had to alter their appearance by hacking off some hair, but Anakin is always a little disconcerted when Obi-Wan significantly alters appearance. For him, his former master represents stability—he doesn't like when he changes, even in something as simple as how he wears his hair.
"So, blow the door off, escape to the hanger, and then what? We'll never make it off Coruscant without a huge head start. Unless you can get the code to our door—which, since I'm sure only Dooku has that, is out of the question—we're going to make some noise opening it, and Dooku will have everyone up and on alert before we could clear the atmosphere. If you want to both get off planet and blow open the door, you'd have to have someone creating a distraction—covering you once you took off. We don't have that."
Obi-Wan gives him a nudge, clearly wanting him to get going. Fine. Anakin reaches out and clips off the first piece of hair. The copper lock drops to the floor like it was never attached at all.
"Leave that to me. I'll have a distraction."
"I don't like guessing games."
"You don't trust me?" He doesn't even bother to sound hurt—it's more of a challenge than a guilt trip.
"Of course I do—"
"Then trust I've got this under control. It's better you don't know anyway, just in case Dooku intercepts you. Now, do your job."
Obi-Wan can be so pushy sometimes. Anakin has half a mind to shave his head and see if he's still got such a quick tongue then. He probably would. He'd likely make the best of it, just to irritate Anakin.
"All right, fine. Keep your secrets. When are we going to do this?"
"Dooku wants to meet with me tonight. I'll take out the clones when they come to escort me and then sneak off."
"That won't give you much time. Dooku will know you're gone pretty quickly.
"I'll use a mind trick on the clones. Convince them I'm ill," he explains, shaking out his hair when Anakin indicates for him to do so. A shower of copper falls over his front and down his back to the ground. "They'll go back and tell Dooku, and of course he'll wish to see for himself. He's rather paranoid about things of that nature. When he comes to check, you'll stall."
"All of that's probably only going to buy you about half an hour at most," Anakin points out, still clipping. "And how are you going to blast open the door to the apartment if he's still here?"
"Eventually, let him see that I'm not here."
"And then let you know?"
"Yes."
This is the beauty of working with Obi-Wan. Regular Jedi would be unable to send mental commands so easily. It's not as though he and Obi-Wan can hold a conversation in their minds, but transmitting feelings is relatively simple for them. A quick pulse of warning will be all that Obi-Wan needs, and that's well within Anakin's capabilities.
"Then you'll come back and we'll be on our way?"
"Actually, you'll get the ship out of the hangar. Don't wait. I'll steal a fighter or something compatible, and I'll meet you outside the atmosphere. Then, if all goes according to plan, we'll be on our way."
Carefully, he evens out a patch of Obi-Wan's hair. It seems so short now, and while Anakin hasn't quite followed directions—he's left the hair just long enough that it isn't spiky like it was when Obi-Wan was a padawan—it's significantly shorter, and the bangs in front run straight across his forehead instead of falling there when he can't be bothered to push them back. He looks different enough to pass on first glance, but they'll still certainly have to edit other parts of his appearance.
"Nothing ever goes according to plan, Master."
"But we usually get the job done regardless."
"I'd still like to know how you're going to create a diversion big enough to give us cover while we leave Coruscant."
Obi-Wan heaves a sigh, playing at being vexed with Anakin's persistence. Well, he may not exactly be playing… "Mind trick a few clones, perhaps influence them to attack the Temple—"
"There's no way that will be enough. You're talented, Master, but you can't influence that many people at once."
"Then we'll just have to get creative, won't we? Prove how good a pilot you are."
He finishes trimming the back of Obi-Wan's hair. "You're going to gamble our escape on my piloting skills?"
"You're the best pilot the Order has ever seen. I'd say it's a good bet."
Right. Well. That's… oddly uplifting.
It's not as though Obi-Wan has never told him he's a good pilot. He always has, and he's backed that up by letting Anakin take the lead in flight operations. Anakin knows Obi-Wan thinks he's talented, but there's still something about hearing him say that which makes him feel as though he's got a small balloon of happiness expanding inside of him. Compliments from Obi-Wan are always like that, because Obi-Wan is sparing with them. He only gives them when deserved… and it's nice for Anakin to know that Obi-Wan thinks he's deserving. His approval means a lot.
"Your hair's done."
"I'll shave my beard too."
"I figured."
"Do we have any ink?"
"Ink?"
"I'd like to change hair color, and as we don't have dye handy, ink will stain it fairly well in the short term."
"I think we've got some."
Obi-Wan rises from his chair, shaking the cuttings off his shoulders and onto the floor. He hardly even glances at them, but the way his hand rubs over what's left on his head indicates that he's a bit thrown by the change. Though he's been through countless battles, when Obi-Wan has the chance, he is generally meticulous about his appearance.
"Wonderful. Get that for me, would you? I'm going to go shave."
"About time. You know, when I get the chance, I think I'll call Duchess Satine and let her know that you've shaved the offense growth that was 'hiding too much of your handsome face.'"
A dishcloth hits Anakin on the side of the head, obstructing his view and causing him to stumble. He just barely catches himself on the wall. Scowling, he yanks the rag off and throws it back at Obi-Wan, who merely catches it and puts it back in its place.
"Oh, so sorry," he apologizes, his face the very picture of innocence. How unfair that he can pull that look off so well. This is why people trust him: he just looks honest.
Anakin mutters something very uncomplimentary in Huttese under his breath and stomps off to get the ink. The clear tone of Obi-Wan's laugh follows after him.
Once he's sure he's out of Obi-Wan's sight, Anakin smiles too.
Anakin is a smart person. He has a mind for tactics, and his sense of humor is quick; he picks things up quickly. But, intelligent or not, his loyalty never fails to override his good sense and analysis of a situation. Obi-Wan was counting on that, and it didn't fail him.
Anakin believed the plans Obi-Wan laid out. He found the hole in them, but when the only answer he received was "trust me," he did. Trusting Obi-Wan when told to is about the only thing he's ever mindlessly obeyed his master in.
Obi-Wan almost regrets that Anakin will undoubtedly regret that.
He won't be getting on that ship with Anakin. There is simply no way. In order to make an escape, there will have to be cover fire—other ships with which to distract Dooku. Even then, it will be difficult. And the only way to get the help that they need?
Is by calling for it.
As of now, they have one means of communication with the outside world. They have one way of reaching the rebellion… and that is the transmitter on Dooku's shoe. In order for the rebellion to hear what they need to hear, Dooku will have to hear it too, and once he does, Obi-Wan will not be going anywhere.
He lied to Anakin. He won't be meeting him. Instead, he's set him up and put him in a position where the members of the rebellion can physically drag him out of harm's way. He doesn't envy the people that have to do it, but at this point, he's more concerned with Anakin's safety.
He will do what he must.
"You know," he begins conversationally, hand going to his now beardless chin. Goodness, that feels strange. He can't stroke his beard in thought anymore. "I don't much fancy a chat with Dooku tonight."
The clones in front of him don't reply. Yes, such a surprise. He shouldn't expect much else anymore, but there's a part of him that still can't quite accept that these men aren't the individuals he thought they were. He still sees separate personalities. In fact, he's almost tempted to ask if they know Cody or Rex, just for old time's sake.
Not tonight, though. He has other matters to attend to.
Smiling a bit, Obi-Wan pulls up short and waits for the clones to turn to face him. "General—" one begins, a hint of a sigh in his voice as he reaches for Obi-Wan's arm to pull him along.
"I was never here," Obi-Wan tells him pleasantly, waving a hand in front of his face. Meticulously, he wraps the Force around the clone's mind, weaving in the suggestion until he's sure it's taken hold.
"I—you were never here."
"Sir?" the second of the three clones says. He's wearing a helmet, but Obi-Wan is fairly certain that if he could see his face, he'd be treated to a look of confusion.
"I was never here," Obi-Wan repeats, and then does it again to the third clone. He can feel their minds yielding to him, twisting with the Force. There's something almost beautiful about the way the Force can meld with a mind like that.
The clones would likely not agree.
In some ways, Obi-Wan wouldn't either. Once, these men were his allies. Even now, while they obey Dooku's orders completely, they still regard Obi-Wan with respect. He is still addressed as "general," and they are never anything less than respectful to him. It's an odd sort of dichotomy, this mingled respect and betrayal. If someone had asked him two months ago if those two could exist together, he would have told them no, but time spent watching the clones—time from which his perspective has shifted from general to prisoner—has shown him that where the clones' loyalties are isn't necessarily with the man they respect the most. They are simply programmed to take orders from the highest chain of command. That's how it is. There's nothing personal about it.
Yet, Obi-Wan is human, and he feels the sting of betrayal as keenly as anyone. He saved the lives of many of these men, only to find that they would sacrifice his with no second thought if the order came. Genetic programming or not, that's a cold betrayal.
He can't entirely forgive that.
"You were never here," they tell him, nodding.
"You want to go get some dinner."
"We want to go get some dinner."
Perfect. Without backwards glance, Obi-Wan takes off down the hallway toward the military center.
It sickens him to think that the Temple is military headquarters now. It wasn't like that during the war, not in the same way. It was still the Jedi's then. Yes, they planned for the war, and, yes, they fought in it, but the non-force-sensitive's were housed elsewhere. The clones weren't housed in old Jedi quarters. There weren't crates and crates of blasters in storage. It wasn't like this. It still shouldn't be.
Sometimes, he thinks the military perpetuates coldness. Everything about it is sharp, sleek, and disciplined. The colors are cold, and everything is about precision and exactness. There's no trace of the Jedi left in this wing anymore. Now, it's infused with military ice and a general feeling that failure is met with the harshest of punishments.
That, he supposes, is martial law, whether Dooku has officially declared it or not.
He slows to a walk as he feels Force-signatures approaching. He'll look the part, he knows. Meticulous uniform, straight back, sharp walk—he can play this. He was a general. He knows war.
But he also knows the beauty of the Force.
He knows more than military discipline, and maybe these men do too, at least outside of this setting. They must. Even the clones did. Didn't they? Perhaps that's why Obi-Wan is inclined to think of the military as so cold. The idea of men who will follow an order unquestioningly, even to the point of killing men who saved their lives many times over—he can't imagine anything colder.
He tests the clearance card on the first door. The man's clearance wasn't that high: he wasn't nearly as important as he'd like to think, but he should have enough clout to be able to call for ships. Not imperial star cruisers—he wasn't anywhere near that high in the system—but Obi-Wan can get what he needs. Just a reliable ship, something fast—something that will get Anakin out of this place.
Traffic increases as Obi-Wan heads to arrange a flight, but no one gives him a second glance. To the common eye, he is one of them, dressed like them, walking like them, and doing his duty. No one considers that he might be more.
Obi-Wan gives them no reason to.
It's not as though he's a stranger to doing his duty. He knows what it looks and feels like, down to the core of his being.
The difference is that, for the time being, he does not show that he's also learned when assigned duty is overridden by a moral duty; by a duty to those he loves; and by a duty to do what is right, regardless of whether a superior authorized it.
That is the difference between him and a clone.
He can still think for himself.