Death's Choice
By Ammie Hawk
Disclaimer: Nope.
AN: Okay, so this chapter practically wrote itself, thus the really quick update. Anyway, enjoy.
Chapter 13: Aftermath
Kote made his way down the hallway of the Venator class star-destroyer on his way to the med bay. It had been a couple hours since they had left Geonosis, and things had settled down quite a bit. After the standard battle reports had been delivered, Fox and Wolffe had taken it upon themselves to assume command and handle their new guests, at least until they arrived at Coruscant. He didn't have it in him to argue with their decision, as it left him free to spend some much needed time to reunite properly with his son.
He had commandeered one of the officer quarters for the three of them, so they could have a private place to be, that was moderately more comfortable than the rest of the ship. After they had finally changed out of their armor, they had talked, for a bit, mostly it was just he and Rex listening while Harry rambled about whatever he felt like, neither of them willing to push him for details about his most recent experiences. They had also taken turns holding him, much to the boy's secret delight. Harry might protest that he wasn't a baby and didn't need to be held and coddled, but he always enjoyed it when one of them would take the time to cuddle with him, and would even initiate it at least eighty percent of the time.
It hadn't taken the youngling overly long to fall asleep, curled up on the blond's lap. The pair of them had then sat in comfortable, companionable silence until Rex started nodding off as well. Kote had urged, read ordered, the other to lay down in the rather large bunk the room sported and get some sleep himself.
He had been just about to join them himself when his comm had gone off. It was Kix, and he had tried to put it off. The medic, however, was insistent that he needed to deal with it personally, and the sooner the better. That is why he found himself in the halls, instead of with his son where he wanted to be.
When he finally reached his destination, he found Kix waiting for him outside a private room with two troopers, Hawk and Ponds surprisingly, guarding the door.
"What's going on here, Kix?" he frowned. "I wasn't aware we had taken prisoners.
"Ah, well, we didn't," the medic shook his head. "The guards are more for their protection than anything else. It's the two Jedi who ended up on your LAAT. Word got out about what happened and apparently many of our brothers want a piece of the younger one. I actually think it was Waxer who leaked the footage."
"I will deal with him later," the CC sighed. "I also approve the guards, we don't need our relationships with the Jedi damaged at this point due to an impulsive action during the heat of battle. What I don't understand through is why you called me down here. All this could've been relayed over comm, or better yet, the written report you should be submitting to Fox and Wolffe, who are currently in command."
"That wasn't the reason I called you here," he turned and headed into the room, motioning for him to follow.
He led him into a small office/viewing room, which was separate from the main room where the patients were. This, he supposed, offered the medics a chance to watch over their patients without disturbing their recovery. It also afforded a place for them to work without being bothered themselves.
"I was just filling you in because you asked," the other continued. "No, I asked you to come here personally because I didn't want this to get out to the others. I've already had to confine Jesse to a different bay to keep him quiet."
"Why would you have to lock him up?"
"Because he's already proven he is not above violence in this current situation," Kix's eyes rolled in annoyance. "Though, he only beat me by seconds."
"Kix," Kote shook his head, "you're not making any sense. What are you going on about?"
"The other Jedi," the medic sighed, "the redhead, was saying some rather suspicious things before Jesse knocked him out."
"What kind of things?" his brow drew together in mild confusion.
"He was asking about you and Rex," the other told him succinctly. "By name."
"By name?" his frown deepened. "How would he even know them. We have all been careful not to use our names around anyone but our brothers since we left Kamino, not even over comms."
"True enough," Kix agreed. "Though, I did slip when Jesse clocked him. But I can only assume he got your name from Prime, since he recognized your designation first. If that's the case, you gave him Rex's name yourself. It's either that, or he got them from Harry."
"But why would he have…?" he trailed off. "Wait, you're not suggesting…?"
"It looks that way, Kote," the medic rubbed the back of his neck. "That's why Jesse clocked him. But the fact of the matter is he just woke up. I figured you'd want to talk to him before I informed the other Jedi of his condition. And since this is an internal matter, I don't have to inform them at all, until you say otherwise, since you are the highest ranking officer on the ship."
"That'd be best for now," Kote nodded. "Guess I should go talk to him then. I'm just glad Rex's sleeping. He would not have reacted well to this information. He already has a vendetta against the Jedi as a whole. Giving it a single focal point could prove explosive."
"There's a reason I comm'd you, Kote," Kix snorted. "I've been on Rex's squad for years. I know him, probably better than anyone but you."
"Right," a brief smirk quirked his lips before he turned to enter the patient portion of the room.
Inside was a standard med bay, only a second cot had been brought in. The younger Jedi was laying on the one closest to the door and was missing his right arm just above the elbow. If the brunet was reading the machines correctly, he appeared to be in a medically induced sleep, then again, he could be dead for all he really knew. His gaze drifted over to the second cot, where the redhead was sitting up and watching his entrance with mild curiosity.
"Hello, Commander," the Jedi greeted amicably. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"
"I have some questions for you, sir," Kote strode over to the bed and clasped his hands behind his back, a subtle mockery of parade rest.
"Of course," the redhead nodded. "What would you like to know?"
"I want to know if you are the one that kidnapped my son."
"Ah," he replied. "So, you are Cody, as I suspected?"
"That doesn't answer my question," the Commander practically growled.
"No, you're right, apologies," the other shook his head. "I would also like to apologize for any inconvenience my taking Harry with me caused you and the others."
"So, you did kidnap him?" brown eyes narrowed dangerously.
"From a certain point of view."
"The only point of view you need to worry about is mine," he snapped.
"Of course," the redhead conceded. "But if you would allow me to explain."
"There is no excuse for taking a child away from their home," he countered.
"You're right," the other took a deep, calming breath. "But would you allow me to speak in my defense before you pass judgement?"
"Fine," the brunet barked out. "Explain."
"Thank you," he inclined his head. "The first thing you have to understand is that I had no intention of taking Harry with me when I found him. I had sensed a… disturbance in the Force, and when I went to investigate I found a child, locked in an obviously abandoned room, and in what appeared to be the middle of a Force fit."
"A what?" Kote scowled, he'd never heard of that term before.
"A Force fit," the Jedi pursed his lips in thought. "When a force-sensitive individual, especially younglings, get severely upset they have a tendency to inadvertently levitate things or fling objects around."
He nodded in understanding, not that he'd ever seen Harry do anything like that in particular, but teleportation seemed to fit into that general category. "Go on."
"Well, with younglings in particular," the redhead continued, "it usually requires outside interference for them to snap out of it, so to speak. Naturally, I could not in good conscious leave him like that, so I went to him. Luckily, just speaking to him was enough to bring him back. However, he began speaking in a language I have never heard before. He then practically threw himself at me, still pleading in that strange language, and he refused to let go."
"He's five," brown eyes leveled him with an unimpressed stare.
"And he has quite a strong grip," the Jedi countered. "Now, I couldn't justify leaving him in the room I found him in. It was obviously not in use, and there was a hole in the roof for Force sake. From there, I did not know where to take him and he was in no state to tell me. Leaving him with the Kaminoans was the wrong decision, I could feel it, and as for leaving him with you or any of the others, I do apologize, but I was lead to believe that you had no independent thought. And as for trainers, the only one I knew had just left the planet. So, I took him with me, because I knew he would be safe as long as he was with me and I had every intention of returning him to where he belonged as soon as I could ascertain where that was."
"If that was your plan," the brunet frowned, "how did he end up in that hanger?"
"That I cannot say," the other sighed. "The last I had seen of him, Fett had come and claimed him. I was just as surprised as you to see him there."
"I see," the Commander nodded. "I will have to verify all this. Until then, I am confining you here. There are two troopers posted outside the door, I do not recommend you try to leave."
"I understand," he accepted easily. "I shall wait here and await any judgement you and your partner deem necessary."
With a sharp nod, Kote turned on his heel and left the med bay. It was time to get some answers out of his son.
888888
Rex woke to the feel of someone shaking him by the shoulder. He could tell he hadn't been asleep long, definitely not long enough for them to be nearing their destination. That could only mean one thing: an emergency. Either there was a problem with the ship, or they were under attack.
With that thought filling his head, he shot up, ready to take action. He belatedly realized that that might not have been the best course of action as soft whimpers sounded from beside him. He turned just in time to see Kote take a seat on the other side of the bunk and gather their son into his arms.
"What's going on, Kote?" his voice was hoarse from sleep.
"I'm sorry I had to wake you both up," the brunet said quietly, carding his hand gently through the messy raven locks, "but something came up."
"And what's that?" Rex leaned back against the headboard now that he knew there wasn't an imminent threat.
"I just came from the med bay," Kote shook his head.
"Everything okay?" he frowned slightly.
"In a manner of speaking," the other shrugged. "I spoke with one of the Jedi."
"Why would you want to do something stupid like that?"
"I didn't want to necessarily," the Commander chuckled. "But Kix and Jesse seemed to be under the impression that they found the one who took Harry."
"Is Mr. Kenobi okay?" the youngling chimed in. "He looked hurt when I saw him at the hanger. Is Kix making him better now?"
"Mr. Kenobi?" a scowl crossed the blond's features. "Who the hell is Kenobi?"
"He's the one that took me," Harry shrugged. "But he's not bad. He's really nice. And he didn't mean to."
"Okay, Harry," Kote took a deep breath, "I need you to start at the beginning and tell us exactly how you met Mr. Kenobi. And you might want to do it quickly before Rex has an aneurysm."
Okay, that was just rude. Kote had no right to talk about him like that. He may have made some rash decisions since the beginning of this whole situation, but he wasn't a danger to himself or others, thank you very much.
"I don't remember all of it," the boy muttered quietly.
"I need you to try," the brunet pressed.
"Why?" Rex leveled him with a glare. "We agreed we weren't going to push this."
"No, we just didn't talk about it," the other countered. "But now we need to know. We have to figure out if this was some sort of misunderstanding, or if further action is required. So please, Harry, I need to know what happened. Anything you can remember."
"Well," their son started fiddling with Kote's shirt, "everyone was excited about the war, and I wasn't. I know I shoulda gone to class like I was supposed to, but I could feel it everywhere and I didn't want to be there. So, I went and hid in the training room with the hole in the roof and locked myself in."
"Why didn't you come to one of us?" the blond asked with a frown. "Or even Prime?"
"You were busy," he shook his head. "And it wasn't my day with Ba'buir. And Boba was looking forward to spending time with just the two of them. I didn't want to be a bother."
"Harry, you are never a bother," Rex reached over and rubbed the boy's back. He would've pulled Harry onto his lap, but he seemed content where he was. "And I'm sure Prime would agree."
"He's right," Kote agreed. "No matter what is going on, you can always talk to one of us. The trainers would have understood. But that's not what we're talking about right now. What happened after you locked yourself in the training room?"
"I… I was upset, and I don't remember much," he sniffed piteously.
"You had an episode, didn't you?" the brunet asked quietly.
"Uh-huh," he nodded. "All I remember is Mr. Kenobi was there, and he felt really nice and safe, and then I got really sleepy. When I woke up, we were in space and getting fired at. Then he explained he didn't know where I belonged, but he promised he would take me back. Then Ba'buir showed up."
"Okay," Kote sighed, pulling Harry more firmly against his chest. "Thank you for telling us. You can go back to sleep now."
"Not sleepy," he cuddled closer, as his eyelids began to droop.
"So what?" the blond asked quietly. "We're just supposed to accept it was all a bit misunderstanding?"
"Looks that way," the other shrugged. "Harry's story lines up with the Jedi's."
"I don't like it," he scowled. "I don't trust him."
"I'm not asking you to like it, or to trust them," the Commander shook his head. "All I'm asking is that you not kill him, and try to keep your feelings to yourself. I'm not always going to be there to watch your back."
"Fine," he huffed. "I won't kill him."
"Good," the other leaned back so he was more comfortable. "We still have quite the trip ahead of us, so get some sleep."
888888
Jango stood in the middle of the docking area of Outland Station, decked out in full armor sans helmet, which was secured to his belt, and looked around in some confusion. He had never seen the station deserted before, and if he was remembering correctly, it had been mostly destroyed years ago. But he somehow found himself there, with no soul or ship in sight.
"Well, this is quite the interesting destination. Can't say I've ever seen any place like it before."
He whirled around at the sound, trying to locate the source of the voice. Apparently, he wasn't as alone as he thought, because not five feet away from him stood a tall humanoid male with shoulder length black hair and grey eyes. He was a rather attractive man, in a rather natural sort of way, as if he didn't have to exert much effort into his appearance. Though, there was a shadow lurking in the depths of his eyes, as if experience had taught him the hard way that life was neither fair nor just. Jango could appreciate that, but right now there were more important things to deal with.
"Who are you?" his hand dropped automatically for his blaster, only it wasn't there.
"Oh, right, should probably get the introductions out of the way," the man shot him a roguish grin. "Name's Sirius. Sirius Black," he held out his hand.
"Jango Fett," he responded automatically as he eyed the outstretched hand dubiously.
"Right," Sirius said after an awkward few moments and withdrew his hand. "So, what brings a knight like you to a place like this?"
"What?" the bounty hunter scowled. Was this guy serious?
"You know, knight, shining armor," the long haired man shook his head. "Never mind, if you have to explain the joke it's not funny. So, why do you think we're here?"
"I don't know," he shook his head. "Last thing I remember I was…" his brow drew together as he tried to recall what he'd been doing. "I was protecting my son and grandson from a dark Jedi."
"You look kinda young to be a grandfather," grey eyes swept appraisingly over him. "Don't get me wrong, you look good, but to each their own. Anyway, you were protecting your son and his son?"
"Boba's ten," Jango deadpanned. "Harry isn't his son."
"Harry," a fond look crossed the other's face. "That's why I'm here. How is he?"
"How do you know him?" he took a menacing step forward.
"Easy, Jango," Sirius held up his hand in a placating gesture. "I would never do anything to hurt him. He's my godson."
"You can't have him," the Mandalorian growled, even though the term was unfamiliar to him.
"You're right, I can't," the other agreed. "He is there, and I am, well, dead, but we're not talking about that. I only want the best for him. He's obviously doing well if he has such an overprotective grandfather, and I'm assuming good parents."
"Rex and Kote care for him a lot," he conceded. "Hell, they overthrew a planet for him."
"Good, the long-haired man smiled sadly. "He deserves someone like that, especially after all the shit he's been through in his life."
"He's five," Jango frowned. "How much shit could he conceivably have gone through?"
"Five?" Sirius stared at him in visible confusion. "Last time I saw him he was fifteen."
"Are you sure we're even talking about the same person?" a dark brow rose in challenge, this had to be some kind of mistake.
"Hm, good point," the other frowned. "Skinny, messy nest of black hair, green eyes, glasses, lightning shaped scar on his forehead?"
"Minus the glasses, yeah."
"Interesting," he rubbed his chin in thought. "Must be some weird magic at work. Either that, or Death did something. But Death is cagey about such things."
"Death?" a deep frown marred the bounty hunter's features. "Are you saying…? Am I dead?"
"Not necessarily, Jango," another voice answered from behind them.
The pair spun around to see a tall figure clad in Mandalorian armor with red accents, as well as a red cape, with a yellow diamond on the chest plate.
"Oh, look, there's another one," Sirius pointed out helpfully.
"Buir?" Jango asked, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.
"Hello, my son," the figure removed its helmet to reveal a humanoid male with short cropped black hair and dark brown eyes.
The younger Mandalorian didn't hesitate as he closed the distance between them. Feeling much younger than his forty-two years, he let himself be wrapped in the other's embrace as their foreheads came together in a gentle caress.
"Sure, he gets the good greeting," the long-haired man huffed.
"What did you expect?" the other countered. "I'm his father, you're a complete stranger."
"Fair enough," Sirius shrugged. "Anyway, you were saying, dad?"
"It's Jaster," dark eyes narrowed into a glare. "Jaster Mereel."
"Sirius Black," his hand extended once more, but not in greeting, more of an expectant, go on gesture. "But please, do continue."
"Is he always like this?" Jaster finally released his son.
"Wouldn't know," Jango cleared his throat. "I just met him. But apparently, he knows my grandson."
"Grandson?" a dark brow rose curiously. "Are you saying I have a grandson? And then once over again?"
"Right," he sighed, as a hand raked through his short hair. "Yes, you have a grandson, his name is Boba. He's ten, and a little shit. You'd be proud."
"And my great grandson?"
"Harry's a long and complicated story," he shook his head. "But the short of it is Skirata's an ass."
"While I wouldn't put that past Kal," the other man scoffed, "I'm going to need more than that, Jango."
"Fine," he ran his hand through his hair. "I let myself be cloned."
"Cloned?" the incredulous disappointment in his father's tone was almost tangible.
"I told you it was complicated," Jango muttered petulantly. "Anyway, it wasn't just once, there's a whole army of them, and while they may be technically younger than Boba, they were designed, for lack of a better term, to age double that of galactic standard."
"What would possibly possess you to do something as despicable as that, Jango Fett?" Jaster growled.
"Can you just accept the fact that this is complicated, Buir?"
"Oh, sweet fucking Merlin," Sirius' voice interrupted, "the family drama here is almost worse than mine."
Two unimpressed glares were leveled on him. He held up his hands in surrender before miming locking his lips and throwing away the key.
"Fine," Jaster took a calming breath. "We were talking about Harry. So, he's one of your clones?"
"No," he shook his head. "He was found by two of them, and eventually I convinced them to adopt him. Skirata, being the ass he is, convinced him to start calling me Ba'buir because of it."
"I see," Jaster nodded. "You're lucky I'm dead, otherwise I'd be tempted to kill you for this, Jango."
"Right," the younger man sighed. "We're back to that then. You said I'm not dead, but both of you," he motioned to incorporate Sirius as well, "are, by your own admissions. So, what exactly is going on?"
"Yes, back to business," the long-haired man clapped his hands together. "You're not dead yet."
"This is sort of in between," his father added. "A place between life and death. From here, you have a choice. Though, personally, I feel I should take it away and just throw you off the edge of this dock right now."
"Now, Jaster," Sirius patted his chest plate, "we both know that's not how this works. This is for him to decide. And besides, if he makes the right choice, he can fix all this."
"You have a point," the older man scowled. "But who exactly are you again?"
"Sirius Black," he executed an extravagant bow. "Disavowed heir to the most ancient and noble House of Black, wizard extraordinaire, godfather of Harry Potter, and escaped, wrongly accused, mass murderer."
"Forget I asked," dark eyes rolled in exasperation. "Now, Jango, will you go back to your sons, and note I did say plural, and grandson, or will you go on and be a disgrace among your ancestors."
"For the record," the wizard cut in, "there's nothing wrong with being a disgrace to your ancestors, especially if their all bigoted pieces of shit."
"As much as this might surprise you," Jaster scoffed, "we're obviously not talking about you."
"Alright," Jango cut in, not wanting to listen to more bickering, if he wanted that he could just listen to the clones all day. "What happens if I do?"
"Well," Sirius scratched his head, "if you go back, you take care of Boba and Harry. And the clones," he added at a pointed look from Jaster. "If you go on…"
"You march ahead," his father finished, "as a disgrace to those already marching."
"Silencio," the other waved his hand at the older male, who fell silent even though his mouth kept moving. "Let's make this a fair choice here." He went over and wrapped an arm around Jango's shoulders and gave his chest a comforting pat, "Look, if you go on, you don't have to march ahead in disgrace. You could come with me and meet the rest of Harry's family and friends. You'd be welcome with open arms."
"Right," he shrugged the man off. "I've made my choice."
Ammie: Please don't kill me. Parts of this chapter were in the works for quite a while now, even if things didn't quite play out how I originally planned. Anyway, I think, but don't quote me on this, that this will finally clear up the whole kidnapping incident, but we'll see. Anyway, please let me know what you think.
