Clonebi-Wan AU part 3
Kenobi was a cockroach. A thorn in Sidious’s side that never fell out no matter how many deadly missions the kindly old chancellor personally requested that he take. One might think that the exhaustion would make him sloppy, if nothing else, but Kenobi handled everything Sidious threw at him with a dogged determination and competence that seemed beaten into his DNA. At times he acted more like a droid programmed to be the perfect Jedi than a real, flawed sentient; obedient and selfless to a fault, utterly unwilling to advocate for himself but frustratingly eager to advocate for others. His Force signature never wavered, never fell out of balance no matter how Sidious stacked the scales.
Surely Kenobi must have some weakness, a psychological hangup to exploit or some emotional scar to rip back open. Sidious hired someone to slice into his Temple records, then hired a bounty hunter to take care of the slicer.
What he found was intriguing, but frustratingly incomplete. Wide swaths of the record from his time as a padawan were vague to nonexistent. There was nothing indicating why Jinn had taken him on in the first place, nor why he hadn’t returned to Coruscant at all for the first few years of his apprenticeship.
Sidious knew how to hide things. It made him very good at sniffing out others’ secrets.
Weeks of snooping eventually led to Halle Burtoni, the senator from Kamino, who told him the delicious truth of the matter without even having to be bribed or threatened for it. She was eager to brag; the Jedi clone was Kamino’s most successful product.
And so Sidious kept the truth to himself, waiting for the most opportune moment to twist it to his will.
-
Rex shares an eye roll with Cody when Skywalker steps out of the command tent to take a “very important comm message.” It’s either the chancellor or Senator Amidala; Skywalker never answers that quickly for anyone else.
General Kenobi stands hunched over the holotable, projecting the terrain where the newest Seppie stronghold is. The locals are, as usual, worse than useless when it comes to defending their own planet, so Kenobi’s brow is already pinched even though they haven’t yet seen combat.
Rex is never sure how to help his oldest brother when he gets like this. With any other brother he would; ages hardly mattered among the rest of the vode, but Kenobi holds both seniority and authority over the rest of them. He takes his role as ori’vod, as their protector and leader, seriously, even though most of the GAR don’t realize the meaning behind it.
Rex can’t understand it. His brothers are the most important thing in the galaxy to him, but Kenobi gets all of the responsibility with none of the brotherhood. He’ll respect his wishes to keep it quiet, all the same.
Skywalker comes storming back into the tent, scowl thunderous and saber ignited, and Rex jumps to attention--has there been an attack?
“Anakin?” the general asks, straightening up. “What’s--”
And then Skywalker levels the saber at a startled General Kenobi.
Cody’s hand is immediately on his blaster, but he doesn’t draw. Rex doesn’t either. He has no idea what to do.
“What in the Force’s name has possessed you now? Were you eating strange bugs again?” Kenobi demands irately. He makes no move to draw his own saber. His trust in Skywalker, even in this situation, is absolute.
“Shut up,” Skywalker snarls. “Captain, Commander, restrain this man.”
“General Skywalker, I cannot allow you to do this,” Cody snaps, shoulders tense with anger.
“He’s an impostor!” Skywalker yells. “A clone!”
Rex’s stomach sinks like a tubie learning to swim. If Skywalker hadn’t known Kenobi was a clone beforehand--if nobody had realized but him--
“He replaced Obi-Wan for kriff knows how long, and no one noticed!” Behind the mask of rage, Skywalker’s eyes are frightened. “I didn’t notice!”
Rex had. Rex had noticed almost as soon as the damn war started.
Cody, who doesn’t know that it was the clone who had earned his loyalty instead of the natborn, jumps to cuff him after that. Kenobi doesn’t struggle. Rex starts to help a few seconds later, mind a screaming void of panic and guilt, and his heart clenches when Kenobi cuts him a concerned, questioning glance.
This may be a Seppie spy, may be an enemy that Rex helped, but he’s still acting like a brother.
“I suppose I always knew it would come out eventually,” Kenobi says, once he’s chained to the center tent pole. He doesn’t sound mocking or angry or even worried. He sounds resigned.
“Drop the act,” Skywalker orders. “You’re not Obi-Wan, stop pretending to be him.” He looks deeply unsettled. Rex has only ever known the clone Kenobi, but Skywalker must have grown up with the original.
Kenobi meets his eyes steadily. “This is what I was made for. I’ve always been him.”
“I don’t care what the Separatists told you, you are not him,” Skywalker says.
For the first time, Kenobi looks surprised. “The Separatists? I wasn’t commissioned by the Separatists, that’s ridiculous.”
Skywalker is incensed, but Cody looks ashen. This must be overwhelming for someone who thought Kenobi was a natborn until a minute ago. There’s also the sobering implications of a third party with the power to dispose of, and replace, a Jedi Master, without anyone noticing. How many more Jedi could be plants?
Surprisingly, it’s Kenobi who breaks the silence. “I understand your... reservations, but this frankly seems like an overreaction. We are in the middle of a campaign, Anakin--”
Skywalker backhands him across the face. The loud crack that reverberates through the tent tells Rex that it’s with the metal one.
“Shut up, meat droid!” Skywalker roars. Rex feels sick and hot hearing that term from his general. “You aren’t him, so stop acting like it.”
Kenobi breathes deeply through his nose. His lip is split. “I understand that my discovery means that I will be decommissioned, as per contract, but I must advise that doing so in the middle of a war is a waste of resources.”
It is very, very strange to hear High General Kenobi talk about being decommissioned so frankly. Every other clone is terrified of being decommissioned, of being recycled into raw organic matter for more clones to be grown from, like natborns are of death. Kenobi talks like he’s always known it would happen eventually.
“You are vastly overestimating your own importance, clone,” Skywalker says, and Rex has to fight not to flinch at the anguish that darts across Kenobi’s face. “Tell me where Obi-Wan is.”
“Dead,” Kenobi says, the word as loud as a detonation. “He’s been dead for years.”
Skywalker stumbles back. “No,” he says, voice trembling. “No, I would have known. I would have felt it.”
“How could you have felt it?” Kenobi pleads, “Anakin, you have me.”
It’s the wrong thing to say.
-
The interrogations continue for days. The men are confused and restless, the campaign indefinitely put on hold. The 212th are especially restless, having gone days without word from their general. Even Cody drifts aimlessly around the camp without saying much to anyone. Rex thinks he’s mourning, but doesn’t know how to tell him that he probably never even met the prime version of his general without getting decommissioned himself for not reporting General Kenobi’s clone status sooner.
Rex and Skywalker are the only ones who go into the command tent, now. Rex technically isn’t supposed to, but Skywalker definitely isn’t following POW protocol and Kenobi won’t be able to answer any questions if he doesn’t at least get water.
Rex goes there now, once it’s past dark and Skywalker is holed up in his own tent. The 501st clones guarding the tent look just as conflicted as he feels; he doesn’t envy them for having to listen to the interrogations. Not many of the men know who’s in there, because if too many of the 212th find out there will be a real risk of widespread mutiny. Hell, learning that their general is a clone would just make them more loyal, not less.
Kenobi’s face is so bruised, beaten, and bloodied that it’s almost unrecognizable. He thinks that’s probably why Skywalker did it in the first place.
Rex kneels next to the tent pole to help Kenobi sip from a canteen, and is shamefully relieved that he doesn’t bother opening either black eye. His hands are still bound behind his back; it looks like Skywalker’s broken a few of his fingers. From the way he winces when Rex touches him, he’s probably broken more than just that.
“Sir, you have to answer his questions,” Rex whispers, both to avoid being overheard and to keep his voice from wavering. “I... I’m worried Skywalker is going to kill you.”
“Oh, he definitely will,” Kenobi rasps once he’s chugged the whole bottle. His chuckle is wry and forced. “No use denying the inevitable.”
“Why can’t you tell us who commissioned you? Are they a threat to the Republic?”
“No, he was just as loyal as you or I,” General Kenobi says. That’s all he’s said to Skywalker for the past few days: I am loyal to the Republic. He learned pretty quick that saying anything else that wasn’t an answer to a direct question wouldn’t end well. “And even if he weren’t, he’s long dead.”
“As long dead as your prime?”
“No,” Kenobi says, beaten face unreadable but body tense, “Not quite so long as that.”
Rex scrubs a hand over his shorn head in frustration. “Why are you protecting him, if he’s dead? You’re the only one who will be hurt if you refuse to talk.”
“Because Anakin would be hurt,” Kenobi says softly. “Anakin worships him. Loves him far more than he loved me, if he ever truly did.”
Rex wants to refute that. Anyone who’s seen them interact before this fiasco would know just how deeply Skywalker respects and trusts his master, but...
All those feelings are for the prime. They are not for the clone that took his place, so fully and flawlessly that even the man who loved him best never noticed.
“So Skywalker knew him?” Rex probes. The general’s silver tongue is looser than normal today.
“I doubt anyone truly knew him but me. No one ever suspected... no one cared enough,” Kenobi murmurs, head slumping to the side. Rex puts a gentle palm on the least bloody part of his forehead, and hisses when he finds it hot.
“Kriff, you’re burning up, vod. You need a medic.”
Kenobi doesn’t respond. He might be unconscious.
Rex sits in a dark tent with a cloned Jedi, a brother, who might be dying right beside him, and makes a choice.
The comm takes a while to connect (come to think of it, Rex has no idea what time it is in the senate district on Coruscant) but then there’s Fox, looking sleep deprived and livid, as always.
“CT-7567? What the hell is going on with the Open Circle fleet? You haven’t contacted the Order in a week, the senate thinks you’re either dead or MIA.”
“Vod, you have to help me,” Rex begs, surprising Fox into silence. “Contact the council. Tell them Skywalker is killing General Kenobi.”