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Not one on the mating glands on either side of Obi-Wan's neck, which remain innocently unmarked, a mockery of his predicament.

No, a completely harmless bite, to a completely irrelevant part of his body. For all points and purposes, a simple, light flesh wound.

One bite becomes two. Then three, then more.

That's all it should have remained, and no one had given it much thought. Obi-Wan thinks he can hardly take the blame for this, when both the clone medics and the Temple Healers had clearly seen the physical marks and reports, and neither had mentioned anything at all--at least, until it had been far too late.

A handful of bites, even several dozen, would have been nothing. After all, even the most teething of bed partners can't accidentally bond a one-night stand without actually going for the mating gland.

But, it's just Obi-Wan's luck. Because, apparently, there's never been a case where a single omega is bitten constantly, everywhere, daily, for months nonstop, by hundreds of alphas who just so happen to be more or less genetically identical.

Each individual bite had released the tiniest, most inconsequential amount of rut pheromone-charged alpha venom into his bloodstream. And each bite, by itself, had been entirely harmless.

But the accumulation of thousands of bites...

Obi-Wan thinks this situation would have been marginally easier to deal with if he'd been accidentally bonded to a single trooper. It would have caused many headaches, certainly, but nothing compared to the logistical and ethical nightmare that he's stuck in now.

The troopers are unique individuals, glowing and clearly distinctive in the Force. But genetically, and therefore physically, they are near identical to one another. True, there are enough tiny, minuscule variations between them that had only one of them bitten his mating gland, it still would have functioned as that single trooper bonding with Obi-Wan, but...

Apparently, in offering his presence to help ease the ruts of his troops and ending up their gnaw-toy as a result, Obi-Wan had been exposed to enough of their venom, from enough different troopers, that it'd all somehow averaged out--

And he'd become bonded to all of them.

Or so, that's what Obi-Wan is understanding from Master Che's agitated not-quite curses as she runs Obi-Wan's pheromone sample against that of various troopers that she has on hand.

She'd started with the obvious: the constant presence by Obi-Wan's side, his own Commander.

The machine's light blinks green, and it gives off a little beep. Positive, indicating a bonded match to Obi-Wan's pheromone sample.

I'm bonded to Cody, Obi-Wan thinks in a daze, and wonders if his Commander knows. Which, should be impossible given that this is news to Obi-Wan himself, but at the same time it would also explain so much, so perhaps subconsciously--

He doesn't even have the time to process the complex rush that the realization makes him feel, because Master Che's already running the second sample, and--

Captain Rex, of the 501st, the label on the sample reads.

Positive.

The next sample is from the 7th Sky's CMO, Ashe, who has pointedly never laid his teeth on Obi-Wan. He'd come all the way to the Temple to personally hand his reports to Master Che, and had provided his own sample at the time.

Positive.

Some troopers of the Coruscant Guard, who not only has Obi-Wan never personally met, but has never even been in close contact with.

Positive.

Two samples sent by Master Ti from Kamino: first, a sample from Alpha-17, an older clone with as different a genetic makeup as a clone can have from the current standard clones.

Positive.

The second sample: a cadet who had just presented, and is nowhere near deployment yet.

And yet, here too...positive.

The glare Master Che shoots Obi-Wan makes him shrink back against the examination table, but really, this is hardly fair because none of them, least of all the non-medically specialized Obi-Wan, could have possibly foreseen this outcome. Even if, technically, Obi-Wan's actions are the cause.

"Congratulations, Master Kenobi," Master Che says, though her voice says anything but. "You appear to have obtained several million mates."

~~

When it really starts is when Obi-Wan discovers that his troopers do, in fact, experience ruts.

Obi-Wan feels the shift in the Force moments before anything happens, but he's still too slow to catch Wooley when he suddenly crumples on the other side of the command table.

Everyone's instantly on high alert for another attack, and Obi-Wan's lightsaber is humming in his hand as he circles the table, Cody guarding his back. The battle is long over, any remaining droids picked off hours ago--or so they'd thought. They're still stuck on the ground, their only protection the rock formations around them until their pick up arrives, still a few hours out. There's always the chance of another wave of attackers, but no one'd heard the shot, and the Force is quiet now.

Obi-Wan reaches Wooley at the same time as Stabber, and the medic swiftly rips off Wooley's bucket, before cursing violently.

Obi-Wan fears the worst, but when he peers into Wooley's face, he's relieved to see the young man awake, alive, and gasping--before Stabber swiftly rams the bucket back on his head. Before Obi-Wan can even ask why, because Wooley'd clearly been struggling for breath--he's almost knocked down by the wave of scent released from Wooley's exposed skin.

Rut pheromones.

The clones, like their template, are all alpha. They'd just come down from a battle high. Obi-Wan isn't surprised to find one of them in rut, and if anything, is surprised this issue hasn't come up before.

"Wooley, are you alright?" Obi-Wan asks gently, no longer alarmed, as he kneels to put a hand on Wooley--and is startled when the trooper jolts violently, shoving Stabber in his haste to get away.

Obi-Wan freezes, and stays in place when Stabber scrambles back too, pulling Wooley to help him get away. Obi-Wan's even more shocked when Cody circles in front of Obi-Wan, placing himself between his General and his men.

Obi-Wan knows Cody. He knows his steadfast loyalty, his strategic genius, his burning love for his brothers. At this point in the war, Obi-Wan trusts Cody with his life, and knows that Cody trusts him in turn. Their relationship has developed beyond strictly professional, and Obi-Wan has come to consider Cody one of his dearest friends, a sentiment he'd like to believe he has the honor of having returned.

Obi-Wan's also more than aware of his dear Commander's more protective tendencies, and for a moment, it seems like he's stepping in to act as a shield between Obi-Wan and his rutting brother.

But, his body language is all wrong. While deceptively calm, his shoulders are tense as he leans towards Obi-Wan, ready to push back should Obi-Wan move forward.

He's protecting Wooley from Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan crushes the quick, sharp sting of hurt at the thought that Cody thinks that Obi-Wan would hurt Wooley--this isn't the time for that. His priority is to set his men at ease--and if Obi-Wan is the cause, that means removing himself.

Obi-Wan stands, movements slow and choreographed so as not to startle the men, and circles back to the other side of the command table. With the physical barrier between them, and Obi-Wan's view of Wooley obscured, Cody and the others relax marginally.

Only then does Obi-Wan dare to speak. "Cody, what's wrong? Wooley's in rut, is he not?"

He sees Stabber jerk, eyes wide and panicked as they shoot not to Obi-Wan for guidance, but to Cody. The medic's arms are wrapped around Wooley, who is shuddering, his shoulders heaving with rasping breaths as he struggles to breathe through the bucket.

Obi-Wan sees Cody pause, knows his Commander is thinking, and feels the little spark in the Force when Cody makes his decision. The Commander quickly gestures, and then Waxer and Boil are at Wooley's side, heaving their younger brother to his feet and dragging him away, Stabber at their heels. Obi-Wan watches them go, gut twinging with worry, before turning to Cody.

"Come with me, General."

Obi-Wan silently obeys as Cody leads them in the opposite direction from Wooley, away from the other troopers who all watch them with eery silence as they pass. Everyone is tense. Obi-Wan feels the knot of worry begin to grow again, because this doesn't seem like a normal reaction to a mere rut.

Or rather, not a reaction to the rut itself, but perhaps to Obi-Wan identifying Wooley's condition as a rut--which is all the more concerning.

Once they're sufficiently isolated, Cody removes his bucket, and Obi-Wan briefly closes his eyes to appreciate the gentle wash of his Commander's pheromones that are released. Even with his skin exposed, Cody's scent is as faint as ever, the same as all of his brothers, but Obi-Wan finds it comforting nonetheless. It also gives him another layer of ways to read Cody, in addition to his body language and the Force, and right now, it reassures Obi-Wan that no one is in danger--but Cody is still steeling himself for something he's unsure about.

Obi-Wan does his best to reciprocate the trust Cody's showing him by revealing his scent, and projects calm, patience, and acceptance through it. Obi-Wan's scent is likely as muted as that of the clones', though in his case, it's done artificially, via blockers. He still sees Cody also close his eyes, nostrils flaring as he leans closer for just a moment, before straightening.

"Obi-Wan, what I'm about to tell you...please don't let anyone else know."

Obi-Wan straightens at the unusual use of his name instead of title, and holds Cody's gaze.

Don't let anyone else know...that could mean a lot of things. Don't tell the nat-born officers. Don't include in reports. Don't tell other Jedi, like Anakin or Ahsoka. Don't tell the Council.

A secret that's being entrusted to Obi-Wan by Cody on the behalf of his brothers, that must not leave this circle even if it breaks regulations.

"I understand, and this stays between us, Cody."

Obi-Wan senses the briefest pulse of warmth, of relief but also reaffirmed trust, a mix of both pheromones and emotions in the Force. Cody just nods, but the tightness has left his jaw.

"Wooley's gone into rut."

"I understand, but I'm afraid I'm not sure what the issue is," Obi-Wan says as gently as he can. "Ruts are a natural part of being an alpha, at least for most."

Cody slowly shakes his head. "Not for us, it isn't. Or at least, that's what we've been told."

"I don't understand."

Cody shifts his gaze, and Obi-Wan gives him the time to organize his thoughts, even as he starts to have a terribly, terribly bad feeling about this.

"We clones have to meet certain standards before graduating from our training and being approved for active duty," Cody begins, and Obi-Wan slowly nods, trusting that his Commander's going somewhere with this interesting choice of topic. "Those standards include not only performance and scores in training, but certain physical and mental standards as well."

The Kaminoans had done their best to obscure the specifics of such standards, as well as what happens to those clones who fail to meet them, but Obi-Wan and the other Jedi are aware that it's grim. As soon as they'd discovered the practice of decommissioning, the Council had tried to put a stop to it, and outwardly, it had. But it's hard to trust that the Kaminoans will abide by their word, and it also doesn't erase the lifetime of fear and loss the clones have already experienced prior to the Jedi finding them. It's just one of many injustices that have yet to be sufficiently addressed.

"The Prime clone, Jango Fett, was chosen as our template for exhibiting qualities that made him an ideal warrior," Cody continues, part recitation, "but many of those qualities also meant that he was a violent and dangerous man."

Obi-Wan isn't entirely sure he agrees; from his brief encounters with the Prime prior to his demise, he'll agree that Jango Fett was most certainly dangerous, but needlessly violent? Obi-Wan hadn't felt that, at least no more so than any other dangerous individual. Fett had shown protectiveness and trust in his child--a trait that Obi-Wan feels is better reflected in his clones than violent, given their strong bonds of brotherhood with each other. But Obi-Wan's perspective is limited compared to Cody's, and he remains silent.

"The potential danger the Prime was to society was balanced by another trait that the Kaminoans have told us was exemplary--his control. His control over his instincts, over his emotions, and over his own destructive power. And that is a trait that all of his clones must also exhibit, if we are to be useful to the Republic and not a threat."

Obi-Wan was right--he doesn't like this at all. "And how, exactly, does one measure this control based on Kaminoan standards?"

Cody's fists clench almost imperceptibly, and his scent takes on a faint bitter undercurrent that in any nat-born would have likely been a torrent of pain, of loss. Obi-Wan just barely keeps himself from reaching out to take his hand.

"Obi-Wan...you said that ruts are normal for most alphas, and after leaving Kamino, we've come to realize that. But for us clones...for my brothers and I, experiencing a rut, or at least allowing rut symptoms to show, is proof of failure, proof that we were unable to control our alpha nature. It means we've failed a prerequisite for serving the Republic."

Obi-Wan stares. That's... "That's utterly insane. You can't...no one can control ruts or heats by sheer will power alone. That's what medication is for."

Cody tilts his head, and the move looks like both acknowledgement of this information, and bitter bemusement. "We weren't allowed access to medication, back on Kamino, and we were told the Prime never needed it. And again, all due respect--we're not like nat-borns. We were made from a dangerous template, and need to show we can control our instincts. Heightened alpha aggression during a rut falls under the category of situations we must be able to master."

"You can't believe that."

Cody, Obi-Wan knows, is exceptionally well-learned, even among his brothers. Despite their limited experience with the galaxy outside of Kamino, Obi-Wan is constantly impressed by all of the clones' ability to absorb new information and critically analyze it--and frankly, they do so far better than most sentients he's encountered. He knows that the clones were genetically modified to be that way, but still feels that their template must have also been wickedly intelligent.

That being said, all of the clones, including Cody, had been conditioned with certain beliefs, and had been isolated from knowledge that could have taught them otherwise. Knowledge of ruts, it seems, was among the information denied to them.

"I don't know what to believe," Cody says, and it's a neutral admission, stemming from both his lack of knowledge of ruts in the rest of the galaxy, and his experience with that of the clones'. "I know that I don't want to believe that we're any more of a threat than nat-borns during rut, but we were also told horror stories about ruts and the potential weaponization of alpha pheromones in general. And it's also true that Prime's pheromones were more potent than most. I'd rather err on the side of caution than risk us harming anyone."

"Your scents have always been mild, at least to me," Obi-Wan tries.

Cody smiles, and it's a strangely twisted thing, simultaneously resigned and smug. "That's the control, sir."

"I don't..."

Cody shifts, so that they're closer, their chests no more than a handbreadth apart.

"Do you trust me, Obi-Wan?"

There's no need to even ask for the reason behind Cody's question. "Of course, Cody."

Cody closes his eyes.

At first, Obi-Wan doesn't notice anything different, and his eyes sweep Cody's face, the smooth lines of his brow, his focus in the Force, and his scent, which is...

Slowly amplifying.

Cody's natural scent--which Obi-Wan had registered as a subtle and pleasant blend of something like rich red spices muted by a neutral musk, a hint of something smokey and mysteriously metallic--is getting stronger by the moment. The scent is solidifying into a presence, like that around most humanoid sentients, not just the usual wisp of an aura surrounding his Commander.

Control. He'd been holding his scent back, Obi-Wan belatedly realizes, and not just Cody, but every single one of the clones. He'd kept it wrapped tightly around him, contained beneath his skin, and while hiding one's scent is possible for short bursts of time, Obi-Wan's never heard humans being able maintain it as a default. In the span of a few seconds, Cody's scent gone from the soft blurred scent silhouette Obi-Wan had grown used to, to suddenly a solid presence that feels almost like Anakin--completely raw, slightly chafing alpha pheromones--among the strongest Obi-Wan's ever felt.

But unlike Anakin, whose presence constantly crackles and sparks, like a mass of barely contained lightning, unpredictable in when it'll be blinding and always threatening to break free--Cody is like a sun: warmth on his skin, a steady and constant glow that speaks of something impossibly stronger, that will incinerate Obi-Wan if he gets too close.

Obi-Wan knows Cody's made his point.

But then the scent gets even stronger.

Weaponization of alpha pheromones, Obi-Wan remembers Cody saying, and, it's not a foreign concept necessarily, but so unheard of in the modern age. For most humans and near-humans, pheromones simply are, and the extent of controlling them is limited to trying to neutralize the most blatant emotions in them, much as one might school the expressions on their face with varying success. But intentionally strengthening or erasing a scent without medication, at least to this extent, is utterly unheard of.

Cody's scent now curls around him, thick, viscous, and though they aren't physically touching, Obi-Wan thinks he can almost feel literal heat from the scent seeping into his tunics. It's all the flavors Obi-Wan had identified before, but amplified as they are, also so much more--spices that are raw and earthy with bite, a hint of something like cocoa that adds sweetness and depth, a musk that is both feral yet clean, smoke from a roaring stone hearth, and the metal, he's only smelled it a handful of times before, but Obi-Wan recognizes it as beskar. It's so complicated, and so much, and feels--it feels unlike any pheromones Obi-Wan has ever experienced. It's like a caress from an intangible limb, except it blankets every surface of his body, covering him, and it's suddenly too much, and he isn't getting enough air, so he opens his mouth, and--

Obi-Wan's knees buckle.

Cody catches him before hits the ground, and the pheromones dissipate and retreat, the temperature tangibly dropping. Obi-Wan realizes he's breathing raggedly, and shivering, hands clutching weakly at his Commander's armor, and at the moment he can't summon the strength to care.

"Obi--General. I'm sorry, was that too much?" Cody's voice comes from overhead, a worried rumble that is nonetheless pleasant, and blends seamlessly with the pheromones still wafting through Obi-Wan's head, still layered over his tongue.

"I'm fine...just give me a moment," Obi-Wan manages, gasping softly when even just speaking lets him breathe in more. And he is fine, but now that Cody's pheromones are retreating further, back to his usual muted shadow, he feels almost unbearably cold.

Obi-Wan allows himself to lean in for just a moment under the pretense that he's preparing to push away, shuddering when his forehead brushes Cody's neck, where the scent is just slightly more concentrated--when Cody's arms suddenly tighten around him, and there's another momentary spike in his pheromones. Obi-Wan struggles not to melt.

"General...you're an omega?"

Those words...Obi-Wan should care more about those words. Instead, his head still feels fuzzy, and all he manages is a "Mm-hmm," and then a soft whine of protest when Cody moves his hands to Obi-Wan's shoulders, and gently, but firmly, peels him away from his lovely, lovely scent.

His scent, which has now retreated so tightly, it might as well not exist.

Another whine begins to escape Obi-Wan's throat...until he refocuses, and realizes that Cody's holding him a full arm's breadth away, hands both steadying and distancing him. The pure horror in his expression snaps Obi-Wan fully back to the present.

"Cody?"

"Osik. They were right. We're too dangerous."

"Cody, what are you talking about?"

Cody barks out a vicious laugh, and once he confirms that Obi-Wan can stand, lets go of his shoulders as though burned. Obi-Wan sways, but it's more an effort to keep himself from following Cody's hands than any remaining instability.

"Look at yourself, General. I did that to you. I was in control, but--if I hadn't been, or if I'd wished you harm--"

"Then it wouldn't have affected me, Cody." Obi-Wan shakes his head, clearing the last of the pheromones which--which were potent, but. "My apologies, Commander. My reaction wasn't very professional, and I apologize for overstepping. You caught me unawares, but I'll be fine now."

"General...Obi-Wan. Why would you...you don't need to apologize. I know you won't, but you should be punishing me--intentionally overwhelming a commanding officer with dynamic pheromones qualifies as assault. The last thing you should be doing is apologizing." Cody sounds incredulous, and his voice reads stiffer than usual, no doubt from the strain of keeping his scent so unnaturally, absurdly tightly contained.

It's utterly inappropriate but--Obi-Wan laughs. Everything about this is too ridiculous, too horrifying. All of his men, perpetually maintaining a seal over their pheromones, as though their lives aren't difficult enough already. That resulting in an insane amount of pheromonal control--enough that his Commander had literally knocked Obi-Wan off his feet, which wouldn't have been possible at all if Obi-Wan had simply been more used to the potency his scent, or if Cody had more experience knowing how much pheromones to release. The lies they'd all been told.

"Cody, my dear, I'll be fine. I promise your scent won't have omegas swooning at your feet if you let it go a little. If you would try that again for me, I'll show you."

"Sir, I'm not going to repeat that."

"Please Commander, you let yourself make a point. Now, allow me to make mine. If you would," Obi-Wan gestures vaguely at Cody's person.

Cody still stands a good few feet away, and eyes Obi-Wan warily, but slowly starts amplifying his scent again.

It's--lovely. Obi-Wan wants to lean forward into it, and feels he could get addicted to it--but he knows it's because it's Cody's scent, and an amplification of a presence that he already so strongly associates with reliability, and safety, and partnership. Obi-Wan would never lean so closely into a pleasant scent from a stranger, and now that he's prepared for the strength of it, he lets Cody's scent wrap around him, but he can breathe. It's still strong, almost terrifyingly so, and Obi-Wan marvels at the unnervingly tangible feel of it--but he doesn't embarrassingly lose control again.

Tentatively, Obi-Wan lets out a gentle wave of his own pheromones, pheromones that are usually masked by blockers, but Obi-Wan has enough control to be able to push them out enough to be felt when he wants to. It's easier than it should be, his scent already close to his skin in response to Cody's, and when it reaches Cody, Obi-Wan sees his nostrils flare, his lips part slightly, his pupils dilate--

"See Cody? It's fine. We're fine," Obi-Wan smiles. "I apologize again for worrying you--this is fine."

Cody shudders, and leans forward, as though chasing Obi-Wan's scent, before he too shakes his head as though to clear it. "Obi--General. Your scent, it's..."

Cody blushes prettily, Obi-Wan thinks, and immediately squashes the inappropriate thought.

"If you find my scent...inoffensive, that's a normal reaction too," Obi-Wan says instead, wincing a little at the wording. "It is natural for us to feel soothed by the scent of people who we are comfortable with. Scent communication is a natural part of many humanoid species' social interactions. It's why I felt drawn to your scent, Cody--I trust you, and I recognized your scent. I would not have reacted to most other alphas' scents in the same manner, regardless of potency."

Obi-Wan very nearly says, it means we recognize each other as pack, but manages to stop himself. There's a limit to how presumptuous he can be.

Cody slowly nods, and for just a brief moment, he looks terribly young and confused. Then, this information too is processed and absorbed. "Alright, General. Alright."

"Well then, if we've established that our dynamics and scent control or lack thereof won't make us threats to each other...if you could elaborate on what's happening with Wooley?"

Cody sighs, and he looks tired, so tired as he looks down at his dust-stained gloves. "I'm not sure what there is to say, General. He went into rut--he lost control. One of the reasons why we control ourselves at all times is to keeps rut at bay. But once we tip over into rut itself--we can't control our scents anymore, or anything else, or so they told us," Cody raises his hands placatingly when Obi-Wan opens his mouth in denial. "Had Wooley, or any of us gone into rut in front of a Kaminoan or a nat-born who had reported it, we would be marked for decommissioning."

Obi-Wan can't even appreciate Cody's trust that Obi-Wan would never do the same, or else they wouldn't even be having this conversation, because..."How many, Cody? How many have we lost this way?"

"None, General, at least from the Seventh Sky. But I can't speak for all other Systems Armies, and there were...too many. Before we were deployed."

"But then..."

"Of course, it doesn't mean that none of us have gone into rut. We just have...more freedom, and less oversight than on Kamino. And as you've pointed out, most nat-borns don't see ruts as necessarily an offense, and aren't looking out for it." Cody rolls his shoulders, and a little bit of his scent slips through, tentative, testing the waters. Obi-Wan reaches out to meet it, and their scents curl together, then over each other, and Cody relaxes, clenched fingers unravelling one by one. "We...the other officers, and all of us, really. We've been covering for anyone who falls, succumbs to rut. We hide them, give them suppressants we've smuggled, rearrange shifts so they won't be missed. We support each other, because we've all lost brothers back on Kamino to rut. Out here, ruts aren't necessarily a death sentence, not like on Kamino, at least if we can hide it until it's over. We've been lying, basically, lying to you and all the nat-born officers."

"And you've done an excellent job of it," Obi-Wan smiles reassuringly. "I certainly hadn't noticed, and I doubt anyone else has either."

Cody chuckles, but then shakes his head and says, "Sir. General, Obi-Wan. Stop--you're making it hard for me to think."

Obi-Wan takes words for what they are--not a harsh rejection, but a gentle reprimand, and he pulls his scent back from where it had no doubt been curling denser than intended around Cody. "Apologies, Commander," he says. "As you were saying--I hope you no longer needing to hide your ruts from me will make this process a little smoother. If possible, I would like to discuss with Master Ti if there's any way to eliminate the danger ruts pose to your brothers back on Kaminoa on an administrative level--but I understand that this is a sensitive matter, and won't bring it up with her, at least not without your explicit permission."

"Thank you, General."

"In the meantime, please let me know how to best use my station to assist in your current operation."

When Cody smiles next, it's genuine, and soft, and the accompanying relaxation of his scent has Obi-Wan almost humming. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. I knew we could trust you."

"A trust that is an honor to be given, and one I'll do my best to continue to earn."

They'd drawn closer together, without either of them having realized it, the distance Cody had put between them dwindled back to nothing. Cody brushes the back of his armored hand against Obi-Wan's and--it's not quite as good as resting his face against the hollow of Cody's throat, but it's still more than enough.

"Now, you said something about hiding--that's not necessary at the moment, is it, Commander? There's no one but myself and your brothers on this rock--and our ride, arriving in a few hours, is also manned entirely by clones. Wooley and Stabber looked terribly stressed--would you be alright contacting them?"

"I can do that, Obi--General."

"Cody, my dear, and I thought I'd finally managed to get you to use my name."

Cody sighs. "Very well, Obi-Wan. Stabber will likely have put Wooley in guarded isolation, and it'll be a rough week for him, but we'll get a muzzle and find a storage closet for him back on the Negotiator, and--"

A week, in a muzzle and storage closet. Force.

"Cody, if I may, a suggestion--might I be of assistance?"