The world changed in the space between heartbeats.

In one moment, Jedi Master and High Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi was climbing into a Jedi Interceptor to try to disable an orbital battle station that had already destroyed an entire planet – Alderaan…Bail and Breha and millions, billions of other sentients simply gone – and was on its way to destroy another and, with it, the Rebellion against Palpatine's Empire.

In the next-

In the next, visions swept through him – a flood, a wave, a tsunami of images and snippets of conversation crashed through his awareness, only to fade into memory in the next instant – a decade and more of them.

No, not visions – memories of the life he'd lived thus far and others of a life that would never come to pass.

The memories settled slowly, gently, as Obi-Wan came back to himself enough to recognize his surroundings – the common area of an Envoy-class ship. Anakin Skywalker sat across from him, toying with the padawan braid that dangled down his chest.

Apparently feeling Obi-Wan's gaze on him, Anakin looked up.

"I haven't thanked you."

Obi-Wan frowned. "For what?"

"Agreeing to finish my training after Teacher Qui-Gon joined the Council."

Despite Yoda's nomination of Qui-Gon as his successor on the Council, other Councilors had argued that continuity was important in the wake of the revelation of not just one but two Sith Lords. Yoda had agreed to a compromise: Qui-Gon would be his successor – ten years later than originally planned.

Obi-Wan hadn't forgotten his opposition to Qui-Gon taking another padawan, nor the Council's agreement. But Qui-Gon had surprised them all and gone to mind-healing for the three years Anakin spent in the creche.

By the time Anakin was ready to become a padawan, the Council and, more importantly, the mind-healers had believed Qui-Gon was ready to take another. Obi-Wan still hadn't agreed, and said as much, but the decision was made.

So Obi-Wan slotted into place as Anakin's big brother. Between him and Shmi Skywalker – freed from slavery and happily working with the Edu-Corps – Obi-Wan believed Anakin was a better man than he'd been in the other lifetime Obi-Wan had glimpsed.

For all that it was expected, Qui-Gon's ascension to the Council ten years later had tested them all because Councilors rarely had the time to devote to a padawan. In the aftermath, Obi-Wan offered to finish Anakin's training and set him on the path of knighthood.

Obi-Wan inclined his head toward the younger man. "It was and remains my honor. And my pleasure."

Anakin smiled briefly before his expression settled back into a frown. "Are you sure sending your friend undercover as one of Padmé's handmaidens is the best way to protect her?"

Obi-Wan hoped he managed to stifle a smile of his own. "What would you suggest, padawan? A full-time dedicated personal security escort? Yourself, perhaps?"

Anakin flushed as red as if he'd been sunburnt on Tatooine. "A full-time escort would be obvious. It might make whoever's behind it think twice."

"And perhaps try something a little more devious, that we might not discover in time to save her," Obi-Wan pointed out. "Please don't fret so much. Siri Tachi is an accomplished knight and a skilled undercover operator. I have every faith in her ability to protect the senator. Or should I say, Padmé?"

"Stop teasing," Anakin grumbled. "I just – I know it's not very Jedi-like, but I worry."

"Worry is one of many natural emotions all sapients experience, and there is no shame in admitting you feel it," Obi-Wan assured him. "We Jedi are not to be consumed by those emotions, but rather acknowledge them, use them when possible, and share them or release them to the Force."

Anakin nodded. After a moment, Obi-Wan felt his padawan's worry spill into the Force and bleed away.

"Very well done," Obi-Wan said.

Anakin grinned a little sheepishly. "I've had a lot of practice."

Obi-Wan considered how to respond in a way that Anakin wouldn't interpret as patronizing or condescending. Despite Anakin's years as an initiate before becoming a padawan, growing accustomed to life in the temple, he sometimes reacted instinctively, as if he were still that child slave on Tatooine.

"You've had a lot of practice at being a Jedi," Obi-Wan said finally. "And you've done quite well with all of it."

Anakin nodded.

"And that is why I submitted my recommendation that you undergo your Knight Trials after this mission."

Anakin's eyes widened, and a surge of joy shot through the Force, quickly controlled.

Obi-Wan smiled, but anything else he might have said was curtailed by the gentle thump when their ship landed.

"Come, my soon-to-be-former padawan. Let us see what secrets Kamino holds."

BREAK

Clones.

Kamino held clones.

Obi-Wan had known that Kamino was home to cloners, in the back of his mind, as a result of the other life he'd glimpsed. Given what he'd learned during his Force-travels, he'd thought that killing the two Sith on Naboo had averted the creation of clones.

He'd been wrong. Very wrong.

So now he stood beside the Kaminoan prime minister inspecting two hundred thousand clones ready for action, and another million well underway, according to Prime Minister Lama Su.

As if that wasn't horrible enough, the prime minister continued, "And I must say, one of the finest we've ever created."

Worst of all, though, was the knowledge that a Jedi had ordered this army ten years before, and the Kaminoans were on schedule with production.

Obi-Wan felt nearly sick at the implications, even if the implications were simply that someone claiming to be a Jedi had ordered these clones. Beside him, Anakin fared little better.

But their mission must come before personal feelings, so Obi-Wan accepted the prime minister's offer of a tour.

The tour took them past vast rooms filled with hundreds of thousands of incubator tubes that resembled bacta tanks far too closely for Obi-Wan's comfort. Each tube held a fetus in various stages of maturity.

Beyond them lie classrooms filled with boys who appeared near ten standard, or possibly a little older.

"What are you teaching them?" Anakin asked, remarkably composed given the emotional turmoil surrounding him in the Force.

"A standard curriculum through primary school," Taun We answered. "And then we focus exclusively on combat training."

"All forms," the prime minister added. "Hand to hand, blasters, ship to ship. The most promising units are given extra training, some from their template personally."

Obi-Wan focused on a group of clones who appeared to be in their early teens engaged in hand-to-hand combat rather than look up at the prime minister when he asked, "Who was the template?"

"A bounty hunter named Jango Fett," Lama Su said. "Apart from his pay, which is considerable, Fett demanded only one thing: an unaltered clone for himself. Curious, isn't it?"

Jango Fett. That name, besides being a reminder of the Jedi Order's deepest shame, was part of Obi-Wan's memories of another life that was coming far too close to being lived again.

"I'd like to meet this bounty hunter," Obi-Wan said, and felt Anakin's curiosity through their Force bond.

"You are fortunate that he is on planet at this time," Taun We said. "This way, please."

BREAK

As Taun We escorted them through the halls, Obi-Wan noted that stark white dominated the entire facility: walls, floors, ceilings. Even the furniture, from the meeting room where they'd conferred with the prime minister to the learning carousels for the younger clones to the benches and tables in the Kaminoan version of a refectory, gleamed white in the harsh overhead lights.

Obi-Wan wondered what effect the lack of visual stimulation might be having on the clones. He suspected he'd go slowly insane with long-term exposure – or else retreat completely into the Force just for some variety.

Taun We paused outside a door indistinguishable from any of the others and rang the chime.

The door opened to reveal a child dressed in a blue tunic and trousers similar to the ones the child-clones wore. The main difference appeared to be a lack of patch on the upper arm of the tunic. At a guess, the child- presumably the unaltered clone of Jango Fett- appeared appeared ten standard or perhaps a little older.

Obi-Wan blew out a breath, releasing anxiety he hadn't realized he'd felt to the Force. He felt Anakin's curiosity and sent back a wave of reassurance.

Based on the child's age and adding a buffer for the Kaminoans to set up their facility to meet the demand, Sifo-Dyas or someone claiming to be him had placed the order for the clones before the events of Naboo.

Apparently, some things were meant to happen, no matter what the Force had done with him.

"Boba," Taun We said. "Is your father here?"

"Yep," the child – Boba – replied shortly, and Obi-Wan couldn't help being amused. The child had already learned to answer only the question asked; never volunteer anything.

"May we see him?" Taun We asked.

"Sure." Boba gave Obi-Wan and Anakin a dubious, searching look, but turned to move away from the door, into the apartment.

Obi-Wan followed, Anakin keeping pace and Taun We trailing a step or two behind.

"Dad," Boba called. "Taun We's here."

The apartment, like almost everything else he'd seen on Kamino, was stark white, with black cushions on the benches at the dining table.

"Jango." Taun We's greeting made Obi-Wan turn from his survey of the room. "May I present Masters Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. They've come to check on our progress."

"Your clones are very impressive," Obi-Wan observed. "You must be very proud."

Fett's pleasantly curious expression didn't waver. "I'm just a simple man trying to make my way in the universe."

"Oh, I doubt that," Obi-Wan said over Anakin's barely-concealed scoff.

Fett raised a mocking eyebrow. "You doubt what?"

"That you're just a simple man," Obi-Wan replied easily. "We have much to discuss."

"Do we?" Fett asked.

"Indeed." Obi-Wan turned to Taun We. "We wouldn't wish to keep you from your duties, especially as I've no idea how long this discussion might take."

Taun We hesitated. "The prime minister assigned me to assist you during your visit."

"And we're very grateful for his consideration," Anakin put in more smoothly than Obi-Wan would have expected.

Anakin stepped closer to Taun We, the angle of his movement encouraging her toward the door.

"But," Anakin continued, "we don't want to abuse his generosity. Surely we can comm you when we're done?"

Taun We hesitated halfway down the narrow entryway. "If you don't mind, Jango?"

Fett didn't look away from Obi-Wan. "I don't fear Jedi."

The door closed behind Taun We and Anakin came back into the tiny lounge. Obi-Wan still held Fett's gaze.

"No," Obi-Wan murmured. "You, of all beings, certainly don't fear Jedi. But you do hate them. Hate us."

"Now, why would I do that?" Fett asked pleasantly enough.

"I was only a few standard years older than Boba when it happened," Obi-Wan said. "So no apology from me would mean anything, and certainly not at this late date. Still, I grieve your losses."

Fett didn't quite sneer, but it was close. "Not the Jedi?"

"I grieve all unnecessary loss of life," Obi-Wan said, and Fett nodded tightly. "For whatever my assurances may be worth, we did learn from it and have become more diligent in pre-mission research and recon."

"That won't bring back the dead."

"On either side," Obi-Wan agreed. "But given that history, you'll understand that I wonder why you accepted a contract to create an army for the Jedi."

Fett's expression didn't change, but a wave of anger-resentment-revenge rolled off him. "I was told they're for the Republic."

"But the Jedi are the guardians of peace and justice in the Republic," Obi-Wan countered, dimly aware of Anakin's fascinated attention on this discussion and Boba's skepticism. "It stands to reason that the Jedi will eventually, somehow, be involved with your army."

Fett shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the thought but unwilling to say so aloud.

Obi-Wan let the silence linger until it was just on the edge of uncomfortable before he spoke again.

"Regardless," he began, "I will offer you a gift."

"I don't need anything from any Jedi," Fett all but snarled.

"A gift of knowledge," Obi-Wan said. "The Force gives some Jedi visions of the past, of events happening halfway across the galaxy…of the future. Ten years ago, possibly around the time you were agreeing to donate your genetic material for the creation of these clones, the Force gave me a vision."

Anakin's breath caught. He was one of the few who knew that Obi-Wan's vision hadn't been a vision so much as temporal displacement of himself at three ages. That the memories from all of those versions of himself had coalesced into one single set when the temporal displacement ended…well. Not even Master Yoda knew the complete truth of that.

"Did it?" Fett asked with forced politeness.

Obi-Wan inclined his head. "A very long, involved vision of possible, perhaps even probable, events to come."

"You mean the future?"

Obi-Wan turned to smile at Boba. The child looked actually interested, a far cry from his aloof suspicion just moments before.

"Nothing is certain, because the future is always in motion," Obi-Wan said. "But the vision has proven true several times – most recently just now, when we found the clones."

"Wizard!" Boba's expression said he wanted to know more.

Fett cut off any further questions from the child with a simple, "Boba."

Obi-Wan spoke again before the silence could become uncomfortable. "It is the next part of the vision that is pertinent now, as it concerns both of you."

Boba practically vibrated with curiosity. Fett scoffed. "Why would a Jedi have a vision of me?"

"Well, the Force doesn't explain itself to me," Obi-Wan said reasonably. "I am merely its vessel, as we all are."

Boba's curiosity won out. Obi-Wan didn't think it had been that difficult a battle. "What did you see?"

Obi-Wan looked down at Boba when he answered. "War. Death – far too many needless deaths."

Then he met Fett's gaze again. "Beginning with yours. Less than a standard week from now."

Fett's mouth twisted into a wry expression. "Not today? You're not going to kill me?"

"I've no reason to kill you – and every reason to wish you alive."

Fett's expression turned a calculating sort of wary. "You'll want to explain that."

"Certainly. Over tea, perhaps?"

Anakin stirred. "Obi-Wan-"

Obi-Wan turned to the younger man, deliberately offering Fett his back. "Will you return to the ship and contact the Council? Debrief them, and then inform them I'm enacting plan mern."

Anakin frowned. "I'm not familiar with that plan."

"Nor should you be," Obi-Wan said gently. "Please inform the Council."

Anakin raised an eyebrow that couldn't be more dubious if he tried. "You're certain?"

That Fett won't try to kill you went unsaid. Obi-Wan suspected Fett understood it as well as he did.

"I've nothing to fear from the Mand'alor." Obi-Wan said and felt Fett's – and Boba's – shock through the Force as he turned back to his unwilling host. "Not in this moment."

"You'd best be right," Anakin said darkly. "Losing one teacher was difficult enough. I don't know what I'd do if I lost another."

Obi-Wan sent the comfort of a hug through the Force. "You won't lose me today, Anakin."

With a final baleful glare at Fett, Anakin bowed briefly and left, the door swooshing almost silently closed behind him.

Obi-Wan turned back to Fett and smiled. "Tea? Or shig, perhaps?"

Fett's eyebrows slammed together. "How do you know of shig?"

"I spent a year on Mandalore during my own apprenticeship."

Fett studied him for a long moment. "I heard there were Jedi protecting the Kryzes."

"Well, someone had to," Obi-Wan pointed out. "They certainly weren't going to fight for themselves."

Fett snorted, and then seemed surprised that he had. After a moment during which Obi-Wan could almost feel the other man thinking, Fett gestured him sharply to a table barely large enough to seat two.

"Sit, and tell me of that year while Boba makes shig."

The space was small enough that, clearly, Fett wasn't asking for privacy while they talked. Even in the tiny kitchen, Boba would hear their discussion. Obi-Wan suspected that was the point of the request. Or perhaps a point among several. One could never be certain.

Still, Obi-Wan inclined his head and took the seat that offered the least opportunity for movement.

Fett didn't bother to hide his surprise as he took the seat opposite. Boba moved into the kitchenette and set a kettle on to heat, though it was clear he was also listening avidly to the conversation behind him.

Obi-Wan slid his outer robe off, letting drape over the back of his chair. Fett's eyes narrowed, and Obi-Wan understood: the movement had made it easier, if only slightly, to access his lightsaber.

"Forgive my informality," he said. "But the sleeves do tend to drag."

Fett nodded warily but appeared to accept the explanation. "A year?"

"Mm." Obi-Wan took a breath to center himself. That year had been pleasure and pain, and sometimes he wasn't certain which emotion was dominant.

"My teacher – who was also Anakin's teacher, until he died – and I were assigned to protect the Kryze family. It was a challenging year," Obi-Wan continued. "I've rarely ever had to protect someone who wouldn't fight for their own life. So we mostly ran and hid."

"We?"

"Satine Kryze. My teacher stayed with Adonai and Bo-Katan Kryze." Obi-Wan settled back more easily into the chair, hoping his relaxed posture would in turn put Jango Fett somewhat at ease. The discussion was going well so far, and he hoped that would continue.

"So, you ran," Fett said. "Where?"

"Anywhere we could find. Sometimes, that meant staying a night or two with a sympathetic family."

"Thus the shig."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Thus the shig."

Boba appeared at the table, a tray with a pot and three cups on it. "And thus, the shig."

Fett smiled, his genuine affection for his cloned son seeping into the Force. "Thank you, Boba. I'll pour while you get a stool."

"Allow me." The words left Obi-Wan's lips before he'd consciously decided to say them.

Without waiting for explicit permission, he focused on the stool at a bench – a workstation of some kind – across the room and reached through the Force to bring the stool to the table where he and Fett already sat.

Fett blew out a breath and reached for the pot. Boba looked caught between being impressed at the display and angry that a Jedi was responsible.

Soon all three of them raised their cups and drank. Obi-Wan savored the taste, spicy and earthy and just a hint of smoke. An underlying sweetness made him sip again, allowing the drink to roll over all of his tongue.

"This is different than I remember," he said. "Sweeter."

Boba straightened on his stool. "I made the blend."

"It's very good," Obi-Wan said.

Fett cleared his throat. "A week, you said?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "If things continue as they are."

"Why do you want to keep me alive?"

Obi-Wan held Fett's gaze. "Because Mandalore will die if you do, Mand'alor."

Fett jerked as though he'd been struck. "No-"

"My mission with my teacher was to protect the Kryze family," Obi-Wan said. "The Senate was…eager to treat with a pacifist Mandalore, rather than Death Watch or even your True Mandalorians."

Fett snorted. "They would be."

"The Jedi, however," Obi-Wan continued as though Fett hadn't spoken, "understand that peace must sometimes be fought for, that standing ready to defend against an attacker is different than attacking first without reason."

Fett studied him over the rim of his cup. "You can't possibly be saying that the Jedi want an armed Mandalore."

"Can't I?" Obi-Wan took another sip. "At its core, the True Mandalorian philosophy is not so different than the Jedi philosophy. And yes, we would certainly prefer an armed Mandalore to a decimated one."

Fett flinched. "You saw-?"

Regretfully, Obi-Wan set his cup down and leaned forward to rest his forearms on the table to emphasize his next words. "If the war your clones were created for comes to Mandalore while Satine Kryze leads it, what will happen?"

Fett set his own cup aside. "Kryze has sworn neutrality in any conflict."

"A neutrality with nothing to defend or maintain it if, for example, Death Watch were to ally with one side or another and determine that Mandalore was theirs for the taking."

Fett's only response was a tightening of his mouth before he picked up his cup again and drained its contents.

"You think that I should rule Mandalore."

Obi-Wan waved one hand in a so-so gesture. "I would not presume to understand Mandalorian politics, but I believe Mandalore needs to stand strong. Whether that means you are Mand'alor or whether you and the True Mandalorians find some agreement with Satine to defend Mandalore under her leadership…that is for you and her to negotiate."

Fett snorted. "Because she was so open to negotiation before."

"Yes, well." Obi-Wan couldn't help smiling a little. "She can be quite stubborn, but I've no doubt that you can be, as well."

He rose and gathered his outer robe.

"Regardless of whether you return to Mandalore," he said, "I would suggest that you alter the path you had been on."

"A week." Fett regarded him steadily. "By your hand?"

"No. But Boba would still be a child alone in the galaxy." He rubbed at his neck absently.

Fett's gaze fixed on Obi-Wan's hand. "You-"

"I wore a slave collar, briefly. I don't believe Boba would find one to his liking."

He slipped his outer robe on and bowed slightly. "Now, I should like to speak with some of the clones. May the Force be with you."

BREAK

Anakin rejoined Obi-Wan as he waited in a room that appeared to be a combination of classroom and conference room.

"The Council agreed with plan mern." Anakin's tone suggested he still wondered what, exactly, plan mern was. Obi-Wan simply smiled.

Obi-Wan had asked Taun We to bring clone volunteers to speak with him and Anakin and was keeping an eye on the clones' collective Force presence to ensure none of them were coerced or ordered to speak with the Jedi who'd shown up so unexpectedly.

"Teacher-"

"All in good time, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, adding mentally when we're secure.

Anakin's eyes widened briefly before he nodded tightly. "They're almost here."

Obi-Wan barely had time to turn fully to the door when it slid open to reveal a dozen beings in pristine white armor, Taun We's head clearly visible behind them.

The clones trooped in, footsteps echoing in unison as they went to stand in neat rows on either side of the long table that dominated the room.

"The volunteers you requested, Masters Jedi," Taun We said.

Obi-Wan bowed slightly to her. "Thank you, Taun We. Please inform the prime minister that I wish to speak with him again before we leave. He should have his copy of the contract ready."

Taun We's expression didn't change, but Obi-Wan felt surprise ripple through the Force – and not just from her. The clones before him were also surprised.

"Of course, Master Kenobi."

And then the doors slid shut behind Taun We, and Obi-Wan smiled at the clones.

"Gentlebeings," he said. "May I safely assume that at least one of you is capable of locating and disabling any listening devices that might be placed in this room?"

A hint of surprise rippled through the Force before one of them – almost impossible to tell which one, given the unadorned armor and the identical helmets that covered their faces entirely – answered.

"All of us can, sir."

Obi-Wan smiled. "Then please do so now."

Hesitation flashed through the Force, quickly suppressed, and at some unspoken – or at least not broadcast through the speakers in their helmets – signal, the clones spread out through the room.

Less than a minute later, ten different listening devices and three cameras rested on the table before Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan smiled more broadly. "Thank you. Please, be seated."

The hesitation this time was far more pronounced, until Obi-Wan himself sat at one end of the table. He gestured for Anakin to sit at his right. Then, slowly, one by one, the clones also took seats at the table.

"I will be brief," Obi-Wan said. "And I trust that this discussion will remain confidential."

He paused just long enough to feel the acquiescence, followed immediately by a chorus of, "Yes, sir."

Equally immediately, Obi-Wan found himself searching for words suitable for this moment. Finally, he decided that only the truth would serve him now.

First, though –

"If any of you would be more comfortable with your helmets off, please feel free to remove them. That is not," Obi-Wan added quickly, firmly, "to be interpreted as an order to remove your helmets. You may do so at your discretion."

After a long moment, during which Obi-Wan suspected the troopers were speaking with each other, a clone halfway down the table removed his helmet and placed it on the table.

Obi-Wan focused on not staring, because this particular version of Jango Fett was…blond.

Rex. The name echoed in his memories, but Obi-Wan only inclined his head toward the blond clone. "I am honored by your trust."

The clone, grim-faced, nodded in return.

"Now," Obi-Wan surveyed each clone in turn. "While we have yet to confirm that Jedi master Sifo-Dyas placed the order for creation of this clone army, it's important that you all know that when he – or whoever was pretending to be him – did so, he did so without the knowledge or consent of the Jedi Council."

The blond clone halfway down the table drew in a sharp breath, the only physical manifestation of the shock his fellow clones felt.

Without giving them much time to absorb what he'd said, Obi-Wan continued, "The creation of such an army goes against the tenets of the Code. Jedi respect and revere all life, and would never knowingly consign millions of beings to a life of war, no matter what visions of the future we might have."

The clone seated to Obi-Wan's left removed his helmet. Nothing in his appearance distinguished him from his fellow clones.

"Sir," he said. "What does that mean for us? Will we be decommissioned?"

Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin and found the younger man appeared as confused as he himself was.

He cleared his throat. "What do you mean by decommissioned?"

The clone straightened in his seat. "We were never told, officially, but it wasn't hard to figure out. One of us is taken away and never comes back."

Anakin's anger – rage – flared through the Force, and Obi-Wan sent a wave of reassurance to him.

Not that Obi-Wan was in any way reassured by the clone's description.

"No," he declared. "As I said, the Jedi revere all life. We will offer you a place within the Order – specifically, the Order's Service Corps."

"What does that mean?" the blond clone asked, then added a hasty, "Sir?"

Anakin sat forward. "There are four branches. The Agricultural Corps, AgriCorps, is the largest, and they help with reclaiming lands devastated by war or weather, providing healthy crops to those who need them. The Educational Corps, EduCorps, provides primary education to those in need. The Exploration Corps, ExploraCorps, surveys and charts stars and planets throughout the galaxy and supports the Seekers, those Jedi who seek out Force-sensitive infants and children and help get them to safety when needed. Finally, the Medical Corps, or MediCorps, serve in the Halls of Healing at the Temple on Coruscant as well as throughout the galaxy to provide basic medical care to those who might otherwise not receive it."

Obi-Wan continued, "Though the Corps have many Force-sensitives, even Jedi, among them, one need not be Force-sensitive to join them. Despite their somewhat…low reputation amongst the Jedi Knights, the Corps are often the face of the Order to the wider galaxy."

The clones were clearly communicating among themselves. Equally clearly, the two who had removed their helmets wanted to be part of the conversation.

Obi-Wan held up a hand, and the chatter among the clones quieted.

"There is no need for you to decide anything immediately," he said. "And, so you are aware of all the options, there is always room in the Diplomatic Corps – the DipCorps or the Knights – for security personnel to support knights on their missions. And, obviously, you can choose to seek employment elsewhere besides the Order."

"Are you saying," the dark-haired unhelmeted clone began, "that we no longer have to serve the Jedi?"

Obi-Wan inhaled and exhaled slowly. "I'm saying that, when I leave this room, I will inform the prime minister, and anyone else who needs to hear it, that the Jedi Order deems the contract entered into between Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas and the government of Kamino for the production of a clone army complete."

He took another breath before continuing, "No more clones will be created – at least, not with the approval of the Jedi Council – and each and every one of you will be given the option of joining the Corps or being…honorably discharged, for lack of a better term, and allowed to make your own way in the galaxy. Whatever you choose, know that the Order will support you."