Archive of Our Own ^beta

They called him The Ghost.

He certainly was like one – elusive and imperceptible for many years. He liked walking amongst his shadows, he liked being underestimated and feared when his enemies realised that this fairy tale that had been created around him was, indeed, true. It only helped him that he had been travelling a lot. He valued knowledge above anything else, and what could you learn by staying in one place, by building walls and towers around you to the point that you think the whole galaxy could fit in one building, one planet, one ruling body? Absolutely nothing. In the end, he always came back to his home – to green hills and freezing lakes.

He came home for the first time when he was thirteen. They welcomed him with tears of joy and he couldn’t understand it at the time. How could anyone want him like that? How could they love a person they barely knew so unconditionally, to the fullest of their capabilities? He never knew a love like that. He only knew betrayal and disappointment. But he learnt. Everything he could. 

He learnt of his heritage. He was the youngest child of Stewjon’s ruling house – he had an older sister and brother. He learnt the proper etiquette, although he was already fairly polite – just a bit of an outsider, but not too old to fix that. His parents gave him away, because it seemed to be the right decision at the time – he later discovered, through vast research (there’s so many hours to be filled with something when you’re travelling) that everyone on Stewjon seemed to be at least mildly Force-sensitive. Premonitions, weird feelings and just a bit too accurate dreams weren’t anything uncommon on this planet. It was dripping in Force, Living, Unifying, Cosmic – but there also were shields, as old as the stones that made them. Stewjon was right there, in the Core, but overlooked to the point most people thought that the planet was elsewhere, near Mandalore or maybe even halfway to Wild Space. But it was fine. People of Stewjon thrived in peace and being underestimated could be used in a thousand different ways.

He fit in there splendidly. 

His parents ignored flecks of pure gold in his left eye that seemed to be growing every time he was agitated by unjustice or cruelty. He wasn’t left alone to deal with it, no. He had help, from his parents, from his teachers, from everyone who loved their home planet and cared for his family. That way, he slowly, yet relentlessly, learnt how to be balanced. People of Stewjon were mostly like their lakes – calm and steady, but sometimes they were also like their seas – dangerous, volatile and cold. They strived to be the eye of the storm – to find inner peace in the tumult of emotions. Because storms weren’t inherently bad. They caused destruction, if they were powerful enough, but most importantly, they restored balance.

He appreciated that.

His family educated him to the best of their means. They also healed him, from what he had survived in deep-sea mines on Bandomeer. Back then he thought it was a miracle that he escaped the mines – but then, how would he call the fact that the first ship he encountered on, the first to aid help desperate group of being who managed to free themselves from slavery, was on that belonged to ruling family of Stewjon? 

It was his uncle and his partner’s ship. He took one look at his bruised, exhausted face, and he just knew. He often wondered if maybe the Force whispered something to him, but he never told. He only exclaimed that he couldn’t believe his own eyes. He asked him: Where are the Jedi? How come you’re not with them, my lad?

He could only shake his head mutely, not having the words to explain these past few months of his life. He tried to tell him later, in the safety of the space, that he simply wasn’t enough for anybody, but his voice kept failing him, he just held him tightly, like a parent would. He whispered into his dirty hair: Not anymore, my child. Now you are everything to us.

The Force (oh, he finally could feel it) agreed.

That was proof that when his uncle asked him a simple question on Bandomeer: Do you want to come home with me? – there wasn’t any other answer he could give but yes.

Obi-Wan was balanced, but he Fell just enough to be the utter menace for the Republic.

He couldn’t care less.

He decided, quite quickly, that he doesn’t want to be part of royal life. He didn’t know if that was a last thread of the Jedi teachings, but he argued, very successfully, that their family, along with their planet, could use a person in a high position of power who isn’t actually known for being in a high position of power. It’s not shame, it’s self-preservation. It’s getting the upper hand wherever you can. It’s an opportunity we need to seize. His parents finally agreed – he was excused from all public appearances, although they never pretended that he didn’t exist. Thank gods that even though the people of Stewjon liked to gossip, they also understood the value of secrets. And they felt in their bones that the Hidden Prince might be very useful for underestimated Stewjon.

They were right. 

Obi-Wan knew that the war was coming. He pleaded to his parents that Stewjon needed its neutrality before it’s too late and they’ll get entangled in something they couldn’t possibly escape. The war was brewing quickly – Stewjon might not feel it, but on the Outer Rim shifts were getting more and more visible. He observed the movements of arms in the underground, trails of money. Bounty hunters were getting restless, but they stayed put. Whispers of anti-republic propaganda were getting louder and louder, whilst riots were getting stronger and stronger. The Stark Hyperspace War was nothing compared to what was beginning to happen.

And if he kept a closer eye to Serenno, given that its current ruler decided to leave the Jedi and all rumours about some planets planning to separate from the Republic seemed to stem from that particular planet… Well, it was nobody’s business but his own. 

His parents argued that they couldn’t just declare neutrality, full Mandalore style. Obi-Wan was well aware of that – he met Duchess Kryze during one of his many travels. He didn’t appreciate the cultural erasure of her people in a name of so called ‘pacifism’. He despised unnecessary use of weapons, or like he called it ‘bullying for adults’, but fights itself were so much more than just a carnage. This aside, she seemed to ignore that you could do much more damage even without a weapon. Ironically, she was a perfect example of it.

Power, that you should be afraid of. And he had plenty of power – everyone he had ever met seemed to either unconsciously acknowledge that or they painfully learnt the lesson.

Besides, killing was so uncivilised.

His parents, on the other hand, weren’t opposed to fights. Their people had plenty of spirit, foolish courage sometimes, but courage nonetheless, and a lot of determination to fight for what they deemed was ‘right’. He actually admired that, even though he would prefer less arguing and more smart strategic decisions. They could work on that later. Right now they needed to plan for the future and his parents knew that.

Stewjon didn’t trust the Republic one bit. Given they were a part of it, they probably would be dragged into whatever mess the current Chancellor wanted to create. They could declare themselves a non-belligerent planet if full neutrality would meet the pressure to drop that idea from the rest of the planets. He spent hundreds of hours checking all possible precedents and laws regarding wars and while he didn’t find anything that strictly forbade a member of the Republic to declare a neutrality in the face of the war, there also wasn’t anything that would approve it. It was a bit of a gray area and he found a poetic sense of irony in that. He thrived in the gray areas.

Stewjon’s declaration of becoming the non-belligerent planet would bring less repercussions than neutrality, however: Stewjon was already underestimated, so maybe the Republic would care that much (it was a bit naive to think that, but it was some kind of an option anyway), and it was close enough to the core that it could be shrugged – it’s not like the separatist movement will get that close, right? (that was also a naive way of thinking, but this at least could be exploited by them) – so they were ways to get away from this with an upper hand. 

He wasn’t naive though, he didn’t want Stewjon to become a pacifist planet, no. Their people would riot. But he wanted them to be open to help anybody (and maybe, just maybe, also fight anybody), not blindly following whatever idiotic propaganda the Chancellor’s office came up with. He would not let his home get destroyed by a foolish, corrupted bunch of men who thought themselves mightier than gods.

Their plans were vastly ignored by the Republic. However, Duchess Kryze, as the head of the newly declared Council of Neutral Planets, sent word to them, asking to join in their pacifist crusade of their own, but they politely declined. Part of wanting to be a neutral body meant being neutral from any organisations, including those made of other neutral planets. It made them quite lonely. It also made them powerful in that way.

The war happened quicker than he expected, but also in a more brutal way. He also didn’t expect the Jedi to have an army (and what kind of hypocrisy was that, someone pray tell?). That was interesting, because people of Stewjon were slowly preparing themselves to join the fighting and then they learnt that there was no need for that, we can carry on with our lives as if nothing is happening, the Jedi and their brave troopers will take care of it, I’m sure. The Chancellor’s too smooth, too innocent voice was waking up something very unpleasant in him, but other than that he was glad. The deck of cards he had been given were different, but that didn’t change the fact that he knew how to count them, and he had been cheating since the moment he got them into his hands.

They were once again underestimated. And he once thrived in the shadows.

The thing is, he wasn’t called The Ghost only because he liked to do things quietly, under the radar. The second, much more subtle meaning – it was really difficult to make him stay after an intercourse. He very rarely stayed the night after sex and he almost never hooked up with one person more than once. It wasn’t difficult for him to find someone willing to have a one night stand with him anyway – with simple, clean, sharp lines of his clothing, unusual hair colour, captivating eyes and polished, posh core accent that matched splendidly the baritone of his voice he was, pardon for saying that, quite a catch.  

I didn’t change the fact that sometimes, when impressed enough, he might want to meet with someone again. So far it only happened once, with a Jedi, to his deepest regrets. Well, Obi-Wan didn’t regret sex itself, Knight Vos was a spectacular lover, very attentive and also spontaneous – but a Jedi Knight? Just his luck. However, Vos understood the importance of ‘one’ in ‘one night stand’ (he was a Jedi after all, he knew a thing or two of their detachment), even though he seemed to be a rule breaker, since they met again a couple of months later. For a moment he hoped they’d just ignore each other, but then he decided to come with a drink in his hand, a flirty smile, and a compliment about how the way his dark trousers hugged his ass was basically a sin. He appreciated both the compliment and a blow job the Knight gave him, so he wouldn’t ruin his trousers after all. Vos never said he was a Jedi Knight and Obi-Wan never learnt why he introduced himself with his own name. It was irracional, especially when he introduced himself with a nickname – it’s not like he was afraid of a scandal, he just liked the anonymity. It wasn’t his problem though – reciprocation of the splendidly performed act of oral sex, however, was. 

He had many lovers. He never was a particularly picky person when it came to people – he liked flirting and he liked a casual, although safe, sex. He never had a love though. Obi-Wan never minded it, it was fine to be on his own, doing things his way. He wasn’t evil, it was just a simple trade: his way or the highway. The highway was usually very painful for one side and very satisfying for the other. Such was life.

War disturbed his casual alliances through the galaxy, but it also brought up his tendency for causing mayhem whenever he appeared. With the war getting all the focus of the Republic, it was painfully obvious that many dirty practices were now happening in plain sight. Slavery, for example. Obi-Wan hated slavery. He could excuse truly many things, but there was a line, one that was never to be crossed by anyone. It was slavery. And it was a main reason that now, when his planet’s neutrality had been more or less settled, he had another thing to entertain himself with.

It was destroying the fucker who decided that cloning and enslaving millions of people to wage a war was a fun idea, because to him, it certainly wasn’t.

Obi-Wan was quite interested in the sudden appearance of the clone soldiers. So he did his research, or at least he tried to, with differing degrees of legality, but he wouldn’t be interested in this as viciously as he had been if he hadn’t met a certain Commander.

They met for the first time a couple of months after the war had started. He was on Coruscant, picking a couple of things from Little Keldabe among other places. That was when he saw his face for the first time. Well, he had seen the troopers before, obviously, but something in that man was different, it captivated him, even if he didn’t give him that much thought at that moment. The true interest sparkled, as it often was, at the bar, where he met the trooper again. 

He might not believe in the Force as he used to when he was thirteen (who didn’t drop their beliefs around that age?), but part of him was a firm believer that coincidences didn’t exist in this galaxy. And although there was no luck either, he seemed to be in someone’s favour that night, for meeting that trooper outside his armour (it was quite ugly piece of plastoid, he had to admit – it looked like it was purposefully not designed after Mandalorians’ armour; if that was the case, it looked like there could be another level to cultural genocide, because the troopers spoke Mando’a and seemed to be following the colour code, even if it was their own – and it all only sparked his later curiosity) was truly a sight to behold.

Obi-Wan had a type, sue him.

He bought the man a drink – he looked lonely and in a desperate need of a distraction. He could prove it, unless the man was straighter than Alderaanian High Cathedrals. He congratulated himself on his choice of clothing – he usually preferred white shirts and dark accents, but this time navy blue attire seemed to be working perfectly, if the man’s reactions – he tried to hide them, but failed, and boy, it did things to him – were a way of measuring attraction. It didn’t take him long to make him comfortable enough to ask if he weren’t interested in anything more than a drink; if not, they could stay and talk a bit more, but he was sure he could do other interesting things with his tongue than holding a simple conversation. He got a dry look and I bet nothing is simple with you, given the contents of your drink. I feel your taste certainly isn’t just simple in return.

Why, yes, he was a refined man. And he didn’t like simple things, he liked glorious ones. This is why he wanted him.

Obi-Wan said it as much and he got a strange, very penetrative, pun not intended, look for his troubles. The trooper downed his drink and just said: lead the way.

Later, after they had been sated, but – and wasn’t that strange for him? – not particularly inclined to move from the silk sheets he had in his Coruscanti flat, he learnt that the man’s name was Cody.

“Kote?” He asked, pretty sure he actually misheard the man. “Like glory?”

Oh, he blushed slightly. The things Obi-Wan did to him didn’t move him this way, but the Mando’a in his mouth did? Boy, someone seemed to have a kink he could explore with utter pleasure.

“No, it’s Cody. Only my closest brothers call me Kote.”

“Oh, so Cody is your real name then?” He asked, curious, if Cody was just a nickname or something completely different. He introduced himself earlier as Ben, as he usually did.

There seemed to be some kind of a miscommunication though, because he could feel a short, but intense stab of irritation from the man.

“Of course it’s my real name, we have those, you know!” Obi-Wan observed him calmly, but Cody seemed to forcefully make himself subdued. The man’s control was impeccable. He’d actually love to tear it apart someday, and that thought surprised him a bit. Already planning to meet him again? The whole pillow talk thing? It wasn’t like him, not at all.

“Certainly. I never doubted that. I just asked, because I’m quite aware that not all of my lovers gave me their real names, if they decided to share that bit of information with me. You see, the information is one of the truest currencies in this galaxy. Information is knowledge, and knowledge is power. I had no intention of insulting you. I just wanted to know a bit more about you – the Cody-Kote distinction was interesting enough that I wanted to inquire which one was first. If it wasn’t your real name, just a bit of an identity you chose to hide yourself, I wouldn’t hold it against you. We all have a desire to hide sometimes.”

“So you just want to have a bit of power over me?” Well, Cody seemed to be smart and attentive, if the tension around his eyes indicated anything.

“You know where I live, it looked like a quid-pro-quo to me, don’t you think? I don’t want power over you – well, maybe if you choose to surrender it and we discuss it before sex, then maybe I could want a bit of it. But that’s not something we should be discussing today, I’m pleasantly exhausted.” Giving a wink to the surprised man, Obi-Wan stood up, threw over himself a white robe, not bothering with closing it up, and poured himself and his guest some water.

He felt Cody’s eyes on himself the whole time and he liked it.

“Kote was first. Cody came later, when our General misheard me, maybe, or didn’t hear the nuisance of Mando’a phonetics. I didn’t care much. Commander Cody sounded much better than my number anyway.” He seemed to be lost in thoughts, but he sipped his water slowly.

“So deep down, it’s Kote who you truly are, hm? That’s quite fascinating – the meaning of names. Now I understand the look you gave me in the bar. I assure you, the pun was not intended, but I can’t find a more fitting one.”

“What about yours?” Cody asked, a bit hesitant, as if not sure if it was his place to ask such questions. He hated it immediately.

“It’s not a native name to my planet of origin, but I quite like it – it means ‘son’, in some contexts it could also mean ‘the youngest in the family’. It helds a deeper value to me. In some way it helped to shape my identity.”

Cody nodded thoughtfully, like he understood (well, maybe he was the only person, not counting his brothers, who actually did understand it) and then set the empty glass on the bedside cabinet. He knew it was time for him to leave.

Obi-Wan walked him to the door, stealing one last, although as passionate as the first one, kiss.

“Something is telling me we’ll meet again, Cody.” He said with a knowing smirk. Cody smiled briefly, saluted mockedly, which made him laugh, and left without a goodbye.

Good. He hated those anyway.

Months passed and he busied himself with work – he rarely was on Stewjon these days, but he was always available if anyone needed his advice. He hadn’t heard a word from Cody – how could he, they never exchanged comm numbers – but he started to hear more rumours.

Clones had been ‘the perfect army’, or so the propaganda said. Obedient, resourceful, highly competent. Yet, there seemed to be deserters. One even went under brain surgery, if his sources were correct (and they usually were, he hated it when someone tried lying to him). It only added to the mystery of the clones – one he wanted to unravel. It was a challenge and Obi-Wan loved those.

He also started to look closer at the Chancellor’s doings. He might despise politics, but he liked to keep an eye on whatever had been going on in the Senate, and it made him a good advisor to his family. It looked like Palpatine had already stayed in power longer than necessary – all polls made before elections, planned around the beginning of the war, indicated that Palpatine might actually lose his position. How convenient it was that he had been granted emergency powers… For the good of the Republic, of course!

He didn’t like it one bit. 

He also didn’t like very much when Republic’s and his business crossed and yet, he managed to find himself in the Outer Rim planet right after GAR finished the campaign. It wasn’t pretty, but the people were doing fine, or rather as fine as they could, given the circumstances. They were pretty friendly too, kind-hearted, because they saved a trooper left to die on a battlefield. It made his vision red with rage, he calmed only when he realised that if it weren’t for those brave people, he would die too. There was still hope in this galaxy.

If he was there, he would make sure nobody was left behind, nobody should lie amongst dead siblings, waiting for death to finally claim them, he would lie his body and soul for them, if only he was there… if only.

But he wasn’t.

Obi-Wan never got the opportunity to become a Jedi Knight, much more a General. His rage calmed, but it didn’t make him less dangerous, no. Now that he was coldly calm, he started to plan, and when he started to plan, nothing could get in his way.

He started with visiting the trooper. He wanted to make sure how true the rumours were and while medical experiments had been lower on his moral list, it’s not like he wanted to torture the man without his consent. Obi-Wan made him an offer instead. He would take the trooper with him to Stewjon, but he needed to give his consent to medical examinations – he carefully explained that he meant mostly basic stuff, in the end, he barely survived the battle, but he admitted that he wanted to do some deep scans. If not, he could help him get a citizenship somewhere, it wasn’t that hard when you had the proper connections and he had plenty of those.

The trooper, Blue, agreed. He didn’t want to fight, he just wanted to disappear somewhere peaceful, where war wouldn’t find him. On their journey back he learnt that Blue was a part of 212th, under Marshall Commander Cody, but due to some restructurations he had been moved to 51st Battalion under some newly knighted Jedi. He didn’t even have any colours on his armour, and the whole Battalion was made of mismatched troopers from different units. The battle had been a disaster, almost everyone died, including the Jedi, but they managed to push the Separatists back. Blue quietly admitted that he didn’t know if that victory had been worth it. It wasn’t, he thought to himself, but let the man talk. It wasn’t about him anyway.

Everything Obi-Wan had learnt from this man slowly fueled the flame inside him. It wasn’t only that he was left to die on the battlefield. The man slowly shared everything – how the natborns had been treating them almost as if they were meat droids. How they lived off on bland rations, how the supply chains had been often late and low, how bacta became almost sacred. How he was raised on Kamino without a touch of love, but with relentless training. How he only had his brothers, but it was fine, it was enough. 

He hated what had been done to these people and he hated it even more when they learnt that the rumours were true: Blue had something in his brain. 

It was a chip.

Obi-Wan was blind with rage afterwards. He took the fastest ship he could and just flew into the Outer Rim. That damn Force must have been still leading him, because he ended up on Ryloth.  He freed some slaves, planted a couple of nasty compulsions into minds of slave owners, killed those who angered him the most, ate a lovely dish on a street market, drank a glass of equally lovely liquor, although he didn’t know what it was, and had a quick, but entirely satisfying sex with Commander Cody.

He, honest to the gods, didn’t expect the last part to happen. 

The 212th Attack Battalion was cleaning up after their last campaign, or so Cody stated. Obi-Wan didn’t care, he just pushed him to the wall in some dark and dangerous – but blessedly empty – alley.

“How did you find me?” He murmured with his mouth along his jawline.

“I didn’t know I was supposed to find you.” Cody answered, fumbling with the zip of his trousers. He was way too composed for his liking, but he could ignore that in favour of getting off quickly.

“Mmm, you just did. I meant here, on Ryloth. Oh, yes, darling, there!” Commander, Obi-Wan decided, was too skilled with his hands.

“I don’t know. I caught your white shirt on the market and thought of you. My General is focused on his unruly Padawan right now, I can spare a couple of minutes for you.”

“Only a couple? A pity.” He replied, breathlessly. “I had so many things planned after you left.”

“Did you?”

“Yes. And don’t stop doing that, don’t stop. Maybe we should meet again whenever you’re on Coruscant. I bet you liked my sheets more than this alley.”

“You’re way too coherent, how are you doing that?”

Obi-Wan took a sharp breath, because right this moment, Commander’s hands brought him to an orgasm.

“Years of practice, darling.” He answered, panting heavily. He kissed Cody quickly and then dropped to his knees. “Please, let me.”

It didn’t take long for Cody to come. Obi-Wan grinned slightly and kissed the man again.

“Thank you, darling, I needed that.” He said, and surprised himself, because it was true. He thought that destroying some slave owners was satysfing enough to subdue the rage in his veins, but until he met Cody, he didn’t realise that quick bout of passion helped him balance himself again. “Seriously, try to find me on Coruscant again if you want. I’d like that.”

On instinct he pushed into his hands an unregistered (and maybe illegally acquired) comm and with final kiss, he disappeared into the shadows like a ghost.

There were more reasons to get angry later on.

These chips weren’t just to “brand” the property. They were a mind-controlling device.

He was sure half the galaxy could feel his fury.

Good. Let them feel it. Let them be afraid. Let them wonder what was causing it and if they should prepare for it. They couldn’t anyway. They won’t see what is going to hit them.

He’s going to destroy the world to get Cody and his siblings their revenge.

Of course, nobody asked him to do that, along with very extensive plans, but he was going to do that anyway. That meant becoming the third player in this complicated game of chess – one who doesn’t play, but observes the movements of both sides just to help the losing one when they are about to miss a very important move. That’s what the clones were. Important move that someone will miss until it’s too late.

He started appearing in various places, setting traps, trying to extract as much information as possible. He began with ambushing Separatists first, mostly because their case was much more interesting and also because due to propaganda nobody really remembered what they wanted in the first place. It was about destroying them and not about understanding their political motives.

Obi-Wan hadn’t learnt much about their chain of command, they all served under Dooku who refused to share any plans with their subordinates. Smart, autocratic, just as he suspected. He had a feeling that Dooku was just a decoy of sorts. Yes, he was a man who seemed to enjoy power, but as a Head of the Confederacy of Independent Systems? No, something didn’t feel right there. There was something else going on.

He needed to analyse the chips more closely. He clearly missed something – he spent three days trying to hack into them, and the first set of orders was disgusting enough to make him lose control.

After all, he had a lot of time in hyperspace, and he wanted to return to Coruscant anyway. He arrived there three days after he learnt that Chancellor fucking Palpatine is behind this whole fucking mess of a war.

Obi-Wan wanted to unleash hell on everyone, Jedi included. Dogs on a leash, they were nothing more than dogs on a leash. He was never more happy to get away from them than at this moment.

He knew his left eye was steadily growing more and more gold, but he didn’t care. It was hard not to get furious and he stopped trying to balance himself in any way. Besides, he thought his eye matched the Commander’s markings quite nicely. Maybe there was something resembling a romantic in him?

He went after slavers and corrupt politicians as a way of stress relief, brutally incapacitating them, taking over their assets. It had its perks, like a) money and b) pleasure to get rid of the filth this galaxy is swimming in. He used that money to fuel the stations who would de-chip clones quietly – he knew that the rumours would be spreading soon. 

Obi-Wan wanted nothing more than to put a wrench into all of Palpatine’s plans. This was his galaxy. He won’t let an old corrupted fucker destroy it.

When Cody was on his next leave, he actually called him.

His campaign must have been disastrous, for he didn’t want to talk – they just fucked, roughly, quickly, relentlessly. There was little feeling in the act and a lot of desperation. He let him, because in the end, he understood him.

“We keep losing all the time.” He said later, when they shared a tobacco stick, a rare treat for both of them. They both were in the weird state between being dressed and undressed – Cody’s uniform trousers had been somewhere in the hallway, but still had his shirt on, while his white shirt had been tossed on the floor, but he managed to keep his trousers with suspenders mostly on. “And then there’s that fucker who keeps doing what they want and we don’t know on who’s side they are. I don’t mind them that much, they keep killing slave owners mostly, but we can’t be sure that they won’t join CIS on a whim.” 

Oh. Well, that’s interesting. He hummed noncommittally.

“Maybe they are on their own side.”

“Why would they? The Republic…” Cody started, but his voice didn’t hold much conviction.

“You surely know better than most people that the Republic isn’t what it says it is. And the Chancellor is a deceiving, lying piece of shit. I don’t know who is running his propaganda office, but they are good.”

Cody sat up and looked at him for a good minute before speaking again.

“Why do I get this feeling that you know something I’d rather didn’t know about?”

Gods, that man clearly deserved his rank. Maybe he had a bit of a competency kink? Who knows.

“If you don’t know what I’m doing in my free time then simply don’t ask.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It is one I’m willing to give you. In the end we just fuck sometimes, darling.” Obi-Wan pretended he didn’t see the hurt look in Cody’s eyes. He also sat up and began dressing himself.

“Will you join the Confederacy?” Cody asked quietly, not looking him in the eye. He looked at him in the reflection of a mirror on the wall.

“I don’t think so. I don’t want anything from this war. It’s bad for business.” He replied calmly and poured himself a glass of whisky. He didn’t offer Cody one. He knew the man would leave his flat in five minutes. “I’m hardly a Sith, dear. I just like doing things my own way.”

Cody didn’t answer him; he closed the door quietly, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Ben didn’t think he would meet Cody again in these circumstances, but just to be clear – how could he know that the GAR arrived and fell for the trap meant for the scumbags he wanted to annihilate from the face of whatever planet he was on? And how could he possibly predict which Battalion it would be? But he said it as much: coincidences didn’t exist in this galaxy.

If he hadn’t been so fucking pissed, he would be willing to admit what a funny quirk of fate it was: seeing a person who discarded you for so called ‘evil’ in his soul just to see him in a very familiar position with someone whose darkness almost screamed to him through the Force. The unknown child had been his Padawan. Curious. Hadn’t Qui-Gon Jinn explicitly stated that he did not wish to repeat mistakes he did with Du Crion? Because his hypocrisy radar was beeping louder than a docking ship. 

Jinn might be a hypocrite, but he wasn’t that much of a fool. He realised quite quickly that it wasn’t much for them to do there. Citizens didn’t want to lodge a complaint, there was no obvious signs of any CIS posting, everything seemed to be almost normal. So Jinn didn’t actually fall into his trap, but… someone did.

Marshall Commander Cody in the last possible moment pushed a couple of unmarked troopers from an underground maze. Obi-Wan knew Jinn would probably just fly away whining, because he tended to leave people behind, especially when the surroundings were barren and stripped of the Living Force. He never valued beings he didn’t like and it was clear to him, through various pieces of media he got his hands on before, that it struck the wrong chord in him, working with people who had been created in the labs. 

He didn’t even try to capture them, really. But here he was, unconscious, so he might as well have a conversation or two. Gods knew that he wanted to breach the topic of chips last time they met, but the timing was simply awful. 

Some part of his brain, filled with pride to the brim, was quite pleased that he accidentally wore his best clothes that day: he looked good in white, and the cape made him look taller. He doubted that Cody would appreciate it, given these particular circumstances, but one could hope.

“Hello there.” He said calmly, when familiar amber eyes met his. Commander wasn’t bound heavily, but he really didn’t want to ruin his clothes with unnecessary fighting. He instinctively fought the bounds anyway. Obi-Wan sighed internally. It was such a lovely sight, but he would truly prefer a different setting. Less hostile, more sensual.

“You told me you’re not with CIS.” Cold accusation in his voice actually hurt a bit.

“And I did not lie. I’m here doing personal business of mine. Your, however pleasant to me, presence here is just collateral damage, so to speak. A consequence of an ugly mistake.” Obi-Wan sat on the chair in front of the soldier, put his ankle on his knee, and tried to get as comfortable as he could.

Cody didn’t grace him with an answer.

“What I find interesting is: how did you know I was here? Was it the Chancellor? Or maybe your General’s precious ‘will of the Force’?” Cody’s face didn’t betray anything, but he glared harder and his presence in the Force got much more determined. “Ah, nevermind. I don’t care either way.”

“Will you kill me now?” He asked, trying to defy him as much as he could.

“Oh, no, dear. I’m not killing anyone if I strictly don’t have to. It’s so uncivilised, don’t you think? I prefer something much more refined. You see, you are quite familiar with my little side job, and you know how much I hate slave owners. There’s nothing in this whole galaxy that makes me more furious than slavery.”

“A killer with morals, then?”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, not bothering to answer that.

“When I meet slave owners, they usually think I’m a buyer. I don’t clarify their assumptions. I count their sins on my way. I don’t like lies or threats. Then I’m having a drink with them, and just when they think that the deal is done, they find themselves unable to move. They don’t know I already worked my way through their shitty little brains twice and planted a nice little present there. Nothing major, just a compulsion. It would grow and grow, but they wouldn’t even notice that, but when the right time comes, when they find themselves in the deepest need – when you are on the edge of losing your life and you just know you could make it if you could only find one last spark of the energy in your body… it would simply give up. And they would be fully aware that I’m the reason their body refuses to hold the blaster higher or swim to the riverbank. Their self-preservation instinct was non-existent earlier, it would only feed their paranoia and they die in misery, hearing my words in their heads, clearer than anything else around them.”

Cody was silent for a long time. When he spoke again, it wasn’t anything elaborate.

“Why?”

“The reason is simple, darling: revenge. But I’m not doing it against those who personally wronged me. I want to bring down entire crime syndicates and slave rings, and watch them burn. I believe in freedom and justice before anything else. And that’s what brings me to the conversation I didn’t manage to have with you last time we met, but we had more pressing priorities then.”

Cody laughed sharply. It wasn’t a pleasant sound, it was desperate and borderline hysterical.

“Are you going to bring up sex now? When you kidnapped me? What will be next, a bit of a friendly torture, because we were fucking once or twice?”

“Do you see any torture devices here, darling? You fell into the trap meant for something else, you’re only bound because I can’t have a black eye as a treat from you, I have somewhere I need to be in three days.”

“You could torture me with your mind, you seemed to be capable enough to do that when you bragged before.”

Now that was outrageous. He stood up and began to pace. The room they were in was a fully furnished bedroom, a hotel-sized one, so he didn’t have much space to move. 

“I beg your pardon, I didn’t brag, that’s undignified. I only stated my abilities and only because you asked me. Gods, stop distracting me, and listen, it’s important. Do you by any chance remember a trooper named Blue?”

This made Cody pause and think.

“Yeah, actually, I do remember him. His reports were decent, he had a dry sense of humour. He was moved a couple of months ago, to a different Battalion, but still under our command. He was killed in action soon after that. Why are you asking me this? What did you do to him?”

“Because Blue is living a war-free life on my home planet. And I didn’t do anything he didn’t agree on. He had a chip in his brain.” He showed the tiny vial to the Commander. He would hand it over to him, but he still had his arms bound behind him

“The behavioural inhibitor?” That surprised Obi-Wan.

“You knew about this?” Cody shook his head.

“I only heard some rumours. Is… is he alright? Blue?”

“Yes, I haven’t contacted him lately, but there weren’t any long-term side effects. His behaviour seemed to be normal, given that I spent two days listening to his story before an operation. He is a bit of a talker, but I enjoyed his sense of humour immensely.” Cody seemed to be calm enough in the Force, so Obi-Wan unbounded him quickly. He rolled his arms and stood up, but didn’t move a bit. Maybe he wouldn’t get a punch to his face for his troubles.

“What are the chips for then?” He sighed heavily. “Do you have any data? I bet five credits you already cracked it up, you smartass.”

“Why, thank you, you could buy me a drink with that money.” Obi-Wan handed him the datapad, similarly to the comm, it was also unregistered, without any connection to the holonet, and strongly secured. “Read it. Then you can decide if you want yours out too. I can make it happen if you want.”

“Why?” He repeated, but it was less heavy and more honestly curious.

“I understand the need to follow your beliefs. I respect that. If you want to go back to your brothers and fight this aimless war, because you decide you can’t leave them alone – I’ll help you spin a good story, nobody would know what we talked about here. But to do that, to follow your morals truly, you need to be unbiased. This chip, the information on it, which clearly had been withheld from you, is making you, unconsciously, biased. Just read it, please. I have no reason to lie to you.”

“You lied to me earlier.”

“I did not. I did not lie to you when I said that I don’t want to have any power over you outside the bedroom setting, I did not lie when I said that I won’t join the Confederacy and I certainly did not lie now.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

“I told you this before: I just like doing things my own way. And maybe I had other reasons too. But ask me again when you read what I just gave you. I’ll be in the room next door.”

And with that Obi-Wan left, leaving Marshall Commander Cody alone with the biggest secret of the war.

It took Cody three hours to read everything on the datapad. He threw up in the suite bedroom and then pounded on the door that connected the two rooms together. Obi-Wan was prepared for that – he opened the door before Cody even stepped away from it.

“Take that thing out from my brain and then fuck me until I forget it was there.” He said, his amber eyes wild with fury. Obi-Wan never saw anything more beautiful.

He grinned sharply.

“With pleasure, darling.”

“So what were the other reasons then?” Cody asked when they were lying together in bed, more intimately than the previous times. Commander had a patch of bacta on his head and in a few different places – Obi-Wan himself put it there, claiming that he wanted to take care of him. Cody, surprisingly, didn’t protest much. “So you’re doing whatever the fuck you’re trying to do?”

“I saw you on the battlefield, but I didn’t truly realise what made me so interested in you until yesterday.”

“Yesterday? We fucked for the first time at least a year ago.”

“Well, yes. But please, let me finish without interrupting every two seconds?” Cody rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything. “I truly did not mean for you to fall into my trap – I sincerely apologise for that – but see, as far as you were concerned, you were on an enemy territory. Or at least a neutral one with a potential to be swarmed with enemy forces. You fell into a trap, but you had a split second to make a couple of decisions: you can either try to run, not do anything, and sacrifice yourself by pushing your brothers to safety. I don’t need to underline what option you chose. They were unmarked, and as far as I gather, that means they’re young ones, they never fought before? So you could easily leave them there and save yourself – you’re the Marshall Commander, you have more intel than rest of the troopers combined. Yet, you chose to stay behind.”

Cody stayed silent. Obi-Wan was sure that he was able to recognise the tender look on his face for what it truly was.

“You have a glorious heart, Commander. I envy you that.” He said quietly. “And you’re the best lover I had in a long time, it would be an utter shame to lose it only because an old fucker, whose dick probably won’t work anymore without any pharmaceuticals, decided he wants to rule the galaxy all by himself. Honestly, being a Sith is overrated. I prefer doing things my way anyway.”

There was a content silence between them for a moment.

“So. What are we going to do next?” Cody asked. Obi-Wan smiled deviously.

“Well, I was hoping you could be interested in a little war on our own, my darling.”

They called them The Ghosts.  

They certainly were like them – elusive and imperceptible. They liked walking amongst the shadows, they liked being underestimated and feared when their enemies realised that this fairy tale that had been created around them was, indeed, true.

Obi-Wan never regretted coming home. And Cody never regretted boarding The Protector with him for the first time. He was where he meant to be.

The Ghosts never regretted their choices, because in the end… all is fair in love and war.