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Chapter Text

Cody

Cody slumps on the biobed. Thankfully, Rex catches his shoulder before he overbalances and drops backwards. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, the sleep deprivation, hunger, and most of all the spice high hit him all at once. His arms and legs feel somehow too big for his body. The world is spinning a little, and everything is too bright and too loud. Worst of all, he feels an inch away from either laughing or crying.

"Hey." Rex squeezes his shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Cody is aware that his voice sounds rough, and he is less than convincing, but he doesn't really care.

"Well, you're currently low on electrolytes, you've lost weight, you're dehydrated, and you're sleep deprived, but it could be worse," Mij Gilamar, the baar'ur¹ says. He's one of the old guard, part of the Cuy'Val Dar², the trainers who went with Jango to Kamino. Cody has mixed feelings about the Cuy'Val Dar on the best of days, and this isn't the best of days. He wishes Jango had brought someone else, but Jango trusts his old comrades above everyone else.

"Okay, so no treatment necessary? I could just sleep it off?" he asks, warily. He can tell by Gilamar's face that it's not going to be that easy.

"Well, I'm most concerned about your lungs. You've breathed in a whole lot of dust, both regular and spice dust. You're probably a little short of breath. The only reason it's not worse and you're not coughing like crazy is the spice that's numbing up your lungs."

That sounds… not great. He hadn't even really noticed any shortness of breath, or at least, he'd put it down to being generally tired and on short rations. "And… what do we do about that?"

"We wash out your lungs with a bacta solution." Gilamar sounds matter-of-fact enough that it takes Cody a moment to realize what that means.

He tenses. "Wait, but… That sounds like you'll basically be drowning me."

Rex tightens his grip on Cody's shoulder again in silent support.

Gilamar shrugs. "That's why I'd put you under first." Before Cody can even react to that, he continues, "And we'll need to get you off the spice, of course. Lucky for you, it's only been six days. You won't have developed a real dependency yet."

He exchanges a glance with Jango, who is leaning against the doorjamb, watching with a worried frown. Jango had had to detox from two years of involuntary spice addiction after his enslavement. Cody shivers at the idea of how rough that must have been.

Jango grimaces at him in commiseration, and Cody lets his lips quirk up in answer. He looks back at Gilamar. "So no withdrawal symptoms?"

Gilamar shakes his head. "I'll put you on a low dose of painkillers, the medical version of spice, and taper you off. You shouldn't have any issues. But we do need to get those lungs taken care of sooner rather than later."

Cody closes his eyes against the spinning for a second, then regrets it when that makes it worse. "Can it wait a little? I want to know everything's handled."

Gilamar grimaces. "I'd like to do it today, but we can wait a few hours if you prefer. I wouldn't mind having some more nutrients in you before we do it." He busies himself with putting bacta on Cody's worst scrapes and bruises and getting a nutrient IV running. Cody finds himself blinking more and more heavily, leaning back against the biobed's pillow. It's getting harder and harder to keep himself alert.

Jango wanders closer and rests his hand on Cody's shoulder on the other side from where Rex is standing, watching the proceedings with a deep furrow in his brow. Cody can't believe Jango is even here, after all the disagreements they've been having. Maybe it's the spice, but the fact that his buir came for him when he needed him most gives him a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest. It goes a long way to helping him forgive all the dismissals and autocratic behavior.

Something is missing, though. Something important. He shakes himself and looks around the room. "Where's Obi-Wan? He was right outside when we went in. I thought he'd be here by now."

"The Jedi's gone." Jango's tone is neutral, as if this message means nothing to any of them.

Cody struggles upright again. "Wait, what? What do you mean, gone?"

"He left." Jango speaks slowly, as if explaining something to a child. "The White Queen is dead, the slaves rescued, and you are safe. His work here was done, so he left."

"The… what? The White Queen is dead?" Cody squeezes his eyes shut and then opens them wide, trying to force himself into clarity. "When did that happen? And why would Obi-Wan just leave?"

"She's dead because I don't leave an enemy that dangerous at my back." Jango finally meets his eyes coolly. "And the Jedi's role was finished. Why wouldn't he leave?"

"That doesn't sound right," Rex says from beside Cody. "He wouldn't just go without telling Cody, without seeing him first."

Cody has rarely been more grateful for his brother. He was starting to wonder if he was hallucinating. Rex confirming that this doesn't add up is a relief.

Jango shrugs. "Well, he did."

A terrible suspicion grows in Cody's mind. "Did you do something to him?"

"No." Jango raises his eyes to the ceiling. "Stop acting like a child. Our alliance has ended, and he is gone. The sooner you accept that, the better. It's for the best. What were you planning to do with him otherwise, take him back to Mandalore and keep him as a pet?"

Cody opens and closes his mouth, unable to find the words to respond to that.

"I'm going to check if his ship is still there," Rex says, the words solely for Cody. "And if not, I'll find out what happened."

Jango lets Rex pass by him on his way out without speaking, shaking his head minutely. Cody watches him, unsure what to believe. If Obi-Wan is really gone… There's a pit in Cody's stomach just thinking about it. The suspicion that Jango is responsible is hard to shake, but he can't use the callous attitude as evidence. Half of Jango's trauma was precipitated by the Jedi; of course he wouldn't exactly be torn up if Obi-Wan really did leave.

"Cody." Gilamar quietly breaks into his thoughts. "What do you need before you'll let me treat your lungs?"

Cody considers it. He needs to know about Obi-Wan, but he trusts Rex to get back to him on that soon. "I need to know how the people rescued from the mine are faring."

It's Jango who answers him. "Bacara is handling them, with Fox handling the diplomatic side with King Yaruba."

"Yaruba was helping you?" The last and only time Cody saw the king, he was standing behind his own throne, letting the White Queen run amok in his court.

Jango nods. "Once he was freed from the compulsion, he offered aid. His troops helped deal with the soldiers surrounding the mine."

Cody narrows his eyes. From what he knows, there's only one way anyone gets freed from the ring's influence, and it requires a Jedi. But far be it from Jango to give Obi-Wan that much credit. Still, at least Jango is giving him information and not cutting him off. Technically, he'd be well within his rights to have Cody detained after his blatant disregard of orders over the past few weeks. "I'd like to talk to Bacara."

"How about we prioritize your health for now, Cody," Jango says in a voice that's probably meant to be soothing.

He means well. Really. He came for Cody and even worked voluntarily with a Jedi to help him. Cody can handle a little condescension in the face of that. "Buir, I've fought alongside these people for days. I made myself responsible for them."

Jango very visibly fights with himself to keep a pleasant expression on his face. "And we can handle it from here."

Cody breathes in and out. They set each other off so easily. "I know you can, but I want to be involved."

Jango sighs. "Fine." He briefly taps his comm. "He's on his way to brief us both. But once that's done, I want you to let Mij do whatever is necessary to get you well again, all right?"

Cody nods slowly. He hopes Rex will be back before then. Preferably with Obi-Wan.

A minute later, Bacara taps at the doorframe. "Sir?"

Cody beckons him in. "Thanks for coming, vod."

"Cody wants a briefing on how it's going with the evacuees from the mine," Jango adds.

"Yes, sir." Bacara gives Jango a curt nod, then addresses the both of them. "We've got close to sixty former slaves, and we're doing inventory on where they want to go; whether they have family waiting for them, any support system still able to help. For those who don't, I need to know if we'll offer Mandalore as an option and where to house them until the transports come in. Plus, some of them need more medical treatment than we're currently equipped to give. And then there are about thirty Pykes in custody. We're keeping them under guard for now, but what would you suggest we do with them?"

Cody opens his mouth, but Jango gets there first. "Kill the slavers. The freed slaves are welcome to become Mandalorians if they wish. Contact King Yaruba for temporary housing and medical supplies."

And just like that, all the warm, fuzzy feelings towards Jango disappear altogether. "Whoa," Cody cuts in, sitting up straighter. "No. We're not killing the Pykes." He's spent too many hours down in that mine keeping everyone from being at each other's throats to throw it all away now.

Jango's eyes narrow. "First working with Jedi, now arguing leniency for slavers? What the hell is going on with you?"

Cody wobbles, and he has to suffer the indignity of Gilamar steadying him. "First of all, four of the Pykes aren't slavers, but slaves. Turns out the Syndicate dumps its own people in the mines when they do something stupid." Cody had been surprised to find Pykes in chains, and then he'd felt like an idiot for being surprised in the first place. Of course the Syndicate would do such a thing to their own people. "Second, like I said, we've been fighting alongside each other for two days. They've seen the benefits of cooperation. Maybe we've sown the seeds for change."

Jango laughs, low and grating. "Seeds for change? And here I thought letting you go out to see the galaxy and hunt would make you less naïve, not more so."

Cody grits his teeth. "They've just lost all their slaves and most of their mine. They'll need to think of ways to do things differently from here on out. If we offer them alternatives–"

"I'll tell you what will happen if we let them live," Jango interrupts. "There will be a rash of slave raids and kidnappings over the next few weeks so they can make up their losses, and they'll be back to their regular operation within a few months. Leaving them alive means letting that happen. We'd be responsible for destroyed lives and torn up families across the Outer Rim. Is that what you want?"

Cody swallows. Jango isn't wrong. It's definitely a risk. But as Obi-Wan said, how will they ever know if someone might make a different decision if they take that option away? He doesn't want to keep doing things Jango's way when it feels so wrong. He hadn't even realized that until Obi-Wan had opened his eyes to other avenues. "That's why we need to offer alternatives."

"Don't be ridiculous." Jango shakes his head and turns to Bacara, who has been trying hard to blend into the background. "Just kill the slavers and be done with it."

Cody stands up, not even caring that he's wavering on his feet. "Belay that, Bacara!" He looks at Jango. "This has been my operation from the start. It's my decision. If you overrule me on this, I'm out."

Jango raises an eyebrow, a storm building behind his eyes. "Out?"

"I won't be going back to Mandalore." It's not like he doesn't have an alternative, now. Cody tries to fold his arms and misses, his spice-addled coordination failing him. Heat rises to his face.

Jango holds his eyes for a long moment, as if gauging Cody's sincerity. Finally, he spreads his hands. "Fine. If that's how you want it, they live. But they can fend for themselves. The offer for temporary housing and repatriation is for the slaves only." He looks directly at Cody. "And I have one condition. You come here in a year's time and see for yourself the consequences of your actions. And if you find a mine filled with slaves once again, you fix it. Without leniency, this time."

Cody nods slowly. "Understood." He hopes to the Stars he won't prove Jango right.

Jango points a finger at him. "And if you undermine my orders again, there will be no more bargaining like this."

Cody glances at Bacara, who is studiously pretending to be part of the scenery.

Gilamar sighs in exasperation. "Sit down before you fall down, Cody. Mand'alor, if you're going to start fights with my patient, I'm sending you out of the room."

"I didn't start it," Jango says, but doesn't push it when Gilamar glares at him.

Cody would dearly love to point out the immaturity of that line, but he decides to be the bigger man and let it go. "I think I'd like some privacy now, for the rest of my treatment."

Jango rolls his eyes. "Have it your way. Gilamar, let me know when his lungs have been treated."

"Yes, sir." Gilamar sounds studiously neutral. When the room has emptied, he looks at Cody, giving no thoughts or opinions away on his face. "Are you ready to go under, now? Or do you want to stay awake still?"

Cody wavers. He doesn't trust Jango to keep his word on the slavers, not entirely, not when he didn't swear an oath on it. But he trusts Rex and Bacara to see that his wishes are respected. He just… He really wishes Obi-Wan were here. He wishes Rex were back so he would know if he'll ever even see Obi-Wan again. But he's also starting to feel that shortness of breath more and more. He closes his eyes, swallowing back the hurt and confusion. "Yeah." He clears his throat. "I'm ready."

---

Cody wakes like swimming up out of a deep, dark depth. He was having the best sleep of his life, and now people are disturbing it by talking, damn it. He wants to go back to his dream, where everything was warm and soft and Obi-Wan was holding him. He frowns and turns over with a grumble.

"Is he waking up?"

A hand shakes his shoulder. "Cody? Time to get up."

Cody swats the hand away and burrows into the blankets.

A chuckle. "I guess not quite."

"He'll be back with us soon."

A sigh. Someone smooths a hand over his curls, and… that's nice. Cody hums and settles deeper into his pillow.

Then the annoying voices start up again. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you. I try to do what's best for you, for our people, and you fight me every step of the way."

"Well, your sons are adults now, Jango. They've got their own opinions. The harder you push them into your way of doing things, the harder they'll push back."

Cody sighs. Why can't they just shut up and let him sleep? Also, it's cold here. He clutches his blanket tighter.

"The others aren't this combative."

"Rex lets Cody take the lead, Ponds is too tactful to disagree with you openly, Fox just does what he wants covertly, and the little ones are too young. I wouldn't be patting myself on the back there."

Cody is so fed up. "Shut up and leave me alone," he complains. "I'm sleeping."

"No, you're not. Come on, time to wake up." The hand is shaking him again. "Open your eyes, Cody."

Cody obeys reluctantly, squinting against the lights of the medbay. He realizes he's shivering. "What's going on?"

"Your lungs are clear," Gilamar says from where he's leaning over Cody, adjusting the IV. "And now the anesthetic is wearing off. How are you feeling?"

"Cold." Cody is starting to come back to himself, and he's not all that pleased about it. All the little aches and pains he's accrued over the past few days are making themselves known again. He looks to his side, where Jango is watching him. "Why are you here?"

Jango raises an eyebrow. "Checking in on my son who just had a serious medical procedure."

He doesn't want Jango here, and simultaneously he wants his buir to hold him. Unable to decide between the two, he turns back to Gilamar. "How did it go?"

"You'll be fine. You shouldn't experience any more shortness of breath." Gilamar glances at Jango before continuing, "Once you're fully awake and you've had another scan, you can rest in your own quarters, as long as you promise to stick to the meal plan and drink plenty of fluids."

"That would be great." Cody hesitates. He's still shivering, and the more alert he becomes, the more he feels like death warmed over. He wants Obi-Wan. Or Rex. But in the absence of both… He reaches out a hand towards Jango without looking.

After a long moment, two warm, calloused palms envelop his, squeezing reassuringly. Jango lets out a shuddering breath. "I thought I might lose you, Cody. The whole way from Mandalore to here, I wasn't sure we'd find you alive."

Cody swallows. "Thanks for coming for me."

"Of course." Jango's voice is gruff. "You're my son."

They lapse into silence. Cody half expects Jango to let go, but he doesn't.

---

When he's finally done with all Gilamar's requirements, Rex and Fox await him in his quarters. As does his armor, neatly stacked. He sucks in a sharp breath upon seeing it and touches the chest plate with careful fingers, tracing the lines of the sunburst he'd once painstakingly painted. "Is it intact?"

Rex hesitates, but then nods. "The White Queen didn't do anything to it except mount it behind Yaruba's throne. There's no damage; I checked."

Cody nods. More than anything, he wants to put it on and feel its strength buoying up his own once more. But he let it be taken from him. He's going to have to speak to an Armorer to learn how to atone and earn it back. "Thanks."

"Of course." Rex voice lowers. "Cody… Obi-Wan's ship is gone."

He'd started to expect it; if Obi-Wan were still on Kessel, he'd be here by now. He still has to close his eyes for a moment against the stab of hurt. "Did you find out… did he leave a message, or…"

"Yeah," Rex says grimly. "Fox here has something to tell you." With a dark look for Fox, he leaves the room.

Cody frowns, seeing Fox study him. "What?"

"I told the Jedi to leave." Fox is so straightforward about it that Cody has to repeat it to himself to process it.

His fists clench, nails biting into his palms. "You – what? Did Jango put you up to it?"

Fox tips his head back and forth. "Well, yeah, but as I told the Jedi: I would have done it anyway."

"Damn it, Fox!" Cody barely holds himself back from throwing a punch. He's not exactly up to his usual level of fitness, and Fox never lets him get away with anything, even when they both know he deserves it. "Are you really buying into Jango's rhetoric that much? Hasn't Obi-Wan shown his trustworthiness by helping you rescue me?"

"No, because you're all acting out of character when it comes to him!" Fox gestures broadly. "Waxer and Boil going on about him as if he's suddenly their friend, Rex trusting him more than us when it came to rescuing you, and you… Rex implied you were sleeping together."

"We're a hell of a lot more than that," Cody snaps, before realizing what he's said.

Fox points a finger at him. "That's the most out-of-character part. Falling in love with him? I've never seen you in love with anyone, much less a Jedi."

"You don't know him." Cody reins in his temper, rubbing his forehead. Maybe he doesn't know Obi-Wan as well as he thought, either. "You told him to leave, and he just… went?"

"He wasn't happy about it," Fox offers after a moment. "He argued, but I told him we need to make sure you weren't compromised by him. He finally agreed to go when he realized I was serious about that."

Cody clenches his jaw. Practically speaking, it doesn't make much difference, he tries to tell himself. They were nearing the end of their time together anyway. This just isn't how he'd envisioned their parting, especially not after his time in the mine. To his mortification, his eyes are welling up. "You couldn't at least have let me say goodbye?"

Fox's eyes widen. "Cody…"

"I know, I'm acting out of character." He swipes at his eyes angrily. "Whatever."

"No, I…" Fox moves in closer, catching Cody's shoulder. "I didn't realize that it would hit you this hard."

"How did you not realize?" Cody snaps. "You just said it yourself. I'm in love with him."

"Well, yeah, but… I didn't know it went that deep." Fox sighs and pulls Cody closer, hooking an arm around Cody's neck and pulling him into a rough hug. "I'm sorry, vod. Like I said, I've never seen you in love."

"You don't even believe it's real," Cody protests, but still lets himself lean in and rest his forehead against Fox's shoulder. Fox isn't a hugger by nature, and it's awkward and a bit too angular, but it's still his vod being here for him. His emotions seem to be all over the place, and he's not sure he can still use the spice as an excuse. "You think I'm being influenced or something."

Fox shrugs, not releasing the embrace. "Real or not, you're hurting and I'm partly responsible."

"I might never see him again." The words come out without his permission. He swallows against the lump in his throat. "I thought we'd have more time. I've never… what I had with him, I've never had with anyone else. Not even close." He's only known Obi-Wan for weeks, but he's still the first person who has made Cody understand the line We will share all in the Mandalorian wedding vows.

Fox finally lets him go, searching his face. To his credit, he doesn't point out the brevity of their relationship. He just sighs. "Look, you would have done the same if you were in my position. I need to know that you're still you." He gestures at Cody's wet cheeks. "And I've never seen anyone affect you like this, so I think you can understand why I'm wary."

Cody makes an effort to pull himself together and scrubs his face. "And how am I supposed to show that nothing was done to me? You can't prove a negative. I don't think anything is going to convince buir."

"Well, I'm not buir. I take observational evidence into account instead of forming my opinions beforehand."

Cody blinks. That's the most outright declaration against Jango he's ever heard from Fox. "I thought you were his biggest supporter."

"Vod, what I allow people to think I am and what I actually am are two different things." Fox smirks. "Buir is not a bad ruler, but I'm not blind to his faults. If any of us are going to take over for him in the years to come, we need to know how to do it better. And let's face it, his views on the galaxy don't always match up to any of my other sources."

"Your other sources," Cody echoes, raising an eyebrow.

"What, like you've never sliced into a protected server to see what the other side thinks." Fox meets his eyes in challenge.

Cody shakes his head, trying to find his mental footing. Fox isn't the only one discovering a new side to his vod here. "Good to know you're not just following his every order." He frowns. "I still want to deck you."

Fox rolls his eyes. "At least that's in character. I'll give you a free shot next time we spar."

"I don't need a free shot," Cody says automatically, following the pattern worn into them by years of bickering. Then he scowls, more at himself than at Fox. He's not ready for banter right now. "Just… leave me alone right now, Fox. When you think of a way for me to prove I can fall in love without a brain transplant, let me know."

"Hm." Fox shrugs. "Will do."

Once he's out of the room, Cody stands there frozen for a while longer. Until now, he'd held out some hope that Jango had been wrong; Obi-Wan hadn't left, just made himself scarce. He closes his eyes tightly. He can't deal with this right now. Not on top of everything else.

He starts inspecting his armor for damage – not that he doesn't believe Rex, but it's the proper thing to do after being separated from it. Every piece he has checked, he places on the armor stand near the bed. It doesn't take him long to realize something is missing. His left pauldron is gone.

His stomach clenching, he searches his quarters, hoping against hope it's found its way under a chair or something equally inane. It's not there.

Blinking fast, he tries to regulate his breathing. A pauldron can be replaced, but the idea that he let his armor be stripped from him and he didn't get it back intact is… sacrilegious. The idea that Ventress might have taken it as a trophy makes his teeth hurt with how hard he clenches his jaw.

His hands are shaking. He sucks in a breath and glances automatically at the ceiling. Just a sheet of unpainted metal above his head. Not tons of stone, held up precariously by metal struts. He runs his hands down his face and gets up. He needs to get out of here and do something before he snaps under the pressure of everything weighing him down right now.

---

"Cody!" Rex catches up to him as he storms outside, back into Kessel's horrible yellowish atmosphere. At least the ships have moved to a slightly more hospitable location than the edge of the mine pit. "Cody, wait. Where are you going?"

He doesn't slow his pace. "I'm going to see the people rescued from the mine. I want to know how they are." It's not a lie – entirely.

"Are you okay?" At Cody's heated glare, Rex holds up his hands. "Sorry. Stupid question. I'm sorry that I didn't realize what was going on. I could've stopped Fox."

"Not your fault," Cody says shortly. "And… Fox is trying to help, even if he's being a shabuir³ about it."

"Well, when is he not?" Rex asks philosophically.

Cody shrugs. "Besides, Jango was right. With the mission at an end, it would have ended sooner or later. So, what has he really cheated me out of? A few hours?"

"A proper goodbye," Rex offers.

Cody stops in his tracks and has to hold his breath for a moment. He can't meet Rex's eyes. "I'm such an idiot. I knew it wouldn't last."

Rex tips his head. "Did you, though? It's not like we don't know a dozen people who are doing long-distance relationships because they work in different places."

Among hunters, especially, it's not uncommon. Maybe Rex is right that he was subconsciously getting his hopes up. "Not with a Jedi."

"Hm. You can still get that goodbye, you know." Rex taps his wrist. "Comms exist."

"You don't think Jango will be blocking that?" Cody asks, bitterness coloring his tone. "He thinks Obi-Wan brainwashed us somehow." It wouldn't surprise Cody if Jango ordered all communications with a Jedi origin code blocked, especially concerning his and Rex's commlinks. As the Mand'alor, it wouldn't be difficult for him, and most wouldn't even blame him if Cody is considered compromised by the enemy.

Rex raises an eyebrow. "So what? We'll find a way around it. Plenty of good slicers among the vode, and they won't all agree with buir."

Cody weighs that thought for a moment. "Fair point." He chews on the inside of his cheek for a second, shifting his weight. "Obi-Wan sure doesn't seem to have fought it very hard. He just… left."

"You don't know how hard he fought it. Neither of us was there. And I'm sure you wouldn't expect him to fight Fox physically and prove him and Jango right."

Cody stares at the ground, pressing his lips together in hopes that his eyes will stay dry this time.

Rex sounds hesitant as he continues, "Cody, I think he has your pauldron."

"What?" Cody's head snaps up. "Obi-Wan does?" His heart pounds. The pauldron being missing has almost been the last straw for him, but if it's with Obi-Wan… The rules are different for lovers. And Obi-Wan knew the implications when Cody jokingly offered him armor before. His breath catches.

Rex nods. "He picked it up when I was taking your armor off the wall. I assumed he meant to give it back once you were safe, but…"

"But then Fox told him to leave." Cody's mind whirls. Did he forget? Or did he keep it as a statement of intent? It's not meant to go like that. Armor between lovers is meant to be given, exchanged, not taken, but in this particular context, it doesn't feel like a violation. He desperately wants to comm Obi-Wan. "He'll be in hyperspace still."

"Yeah." Rex bumps his shoulder. "I sent him a message to get in touch the moment he gets to Coruscant."

Cody swallows. "I hope it got through."

Rex grimaces. "As soon as we're back on Mandalore, I'll look into finding a commlink that buir can't access."

"We'll think of something." Cody closes his eyes and blows out a breath. "Come on. I really did want to go see the survivors from the mine."

---

"They're sleeping six to a room, but at least there are beds." Bacara gives Cody a sidelong look. "I understand that wasn't the case in the mine."

For a moment, the oppressive weight of tons of stone is overhead again, the smell of unwashed bodies in his nose, rocks pricking into sensitive places as he tries to find a position to sleep - Cody shudders and blinks the impressions away, pressing his shoulder back into Rex's, who is solid at his side. "Yeah, they didn't bother with creature comforts." Time to change the subject. "Did any of them take Jango's offer of becoming Mandalorians?"

"About a dozen, yeah." Bacara's look is knowing, but he doesn't press. "One of them's a Wookiee. He's been asking about you. Him and a Togruta?"

Cody's heart skips a beat. Wiira and Pallu. "Where are they?"

"This way."

---

Wiira's yowl greets him before he's even spotted the kid. The next thing he knows, he's enveloped in a hairy, exuberant blanket. "Cody! I was worried when they took you away!"

"He's practically been pulling out his fur," Pallu says once Cody has managed to extricate himself. His greeting is more reserved, but he's smiling. Cody has never seen him smile before. "I'm glad to see you're well."

"You, too." Neither of them look all that well, though. Aside from the obvious malnutrition, they're both breathing hard just from walking over to him. Cody is reminded that the procedure he had to undergo might be necessary for everyone here. They were all breathing in copious amounts of dust after the cave-in, and even before that, Pallu and Wiira were down in the mine's spice haze for months. "How are you? Did you get medical treatment?"

"There's a lot of people to treat," Bacara cuts in. "They've done triage and are still working on the worst injured. The rest will be seen to according to urgency."

"Guess I jumped the line, huh?" Cody pushes a hand through his hair – or tries to. He might have been treated, but he hasn't had much time for personal grooming.

Pallu looks between him and Bacara. "It's to be expected. I understand these people came for you, first and foremost."

"Maybe so, but we Mandalorians don't take kindly to slavers," Bacara replies. "We would have helped you either way."

That reminds Cody. "And now you're becoming Mandalorian yourselves?"

Pallu shakes his head. "Just Wiira. I've still got family waiting for me. And I think I'm too old to start a whole new life."

Cody glances at Wiira, who lets out a sad whine. "My family's gone. But they said Mandalorians make new family."

Cody nods, squeezing his shoulder. "We do. We adopt people left and right, really; children, siblings, parents, aunts and uncles, you name it." He looks at Bacara. "I'll sponsor him."

Bacara's eyebrows fly up. "Good to know. I'll register you."

"You realize you lost your ship and you still need to reclaim your armor, right?" Rex murmurs in Cody's ear.

Cody shrugs. Sponsoring a neophyte to become a full Mandalorian is a costly business – you're expected to pay for their education, first pieces of armor, and the cost of living until they're integrated enough to find a job. "I'll manage." He's got savings from his hunting trips, and a ship can wait. Jango likely won't let him off Mandalore for the time being, anyway.

More importantly, sponsorship comes with an expectation of taking someone into your Clan if they decide to fully embrace becoming Mandalorian, and Cody doesn't want anyone else to snap up Wiira.

Wiira is frowning at him. "What does that mean?"

"I'll explain. Come on, let's sit." He's getting tired himself, but he's more concerned with the way Wiira's chest heaves just standing and talking like this. Pallu, if anything, looks worse: pale and strained, wavering on his feet.

It probably wouldn't be fair to use his position to get them into medical a bit sooner. He might do it anyway.

---

Cody sighs and gets up off his bunk for the fifth time, wandering over to the armor stand. He runs his fingertips over the sunburst again, trying to banish the sound of rocks falling that he keeps hearing in his ears, or the constant urge to trace the line of his now bare throat as a reassurance. He squeezes his eyes shut.

He thought he'd be relieved to finally be alone in his quarters. He hasn't had privacy in days, and very little time to process, but he just can't settle. He's never been much of a worrier, and he doesn't know what to do with these circling thoughts about Obi-Wan being out of reach in hyperspace, the freed slaves being ferried off to their preferred destination one ship at a time, the Pykes who have thrown themselves on King Yaruba's mercy since the Mandalorians haven't offered them any help… the list goes on.

He opens his eyes again, his fingers finding a flaw in the smooth metal under his hands. Wearing the armor would be disrespectful at this point, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't take care of it. He takes the chest plate off the stand and retrieves his polishing kit, then sits down with the scrub pad. Rex has graciously done a wipe down, he can tell, but to do any more would have been presumptuous without Cody's express permission.

He searches out the flaws and scrubs, uncaring of the damage to the paint. He'll need to do a top-up anyway.

He loses himself in the work, grateful that his head is finally going quiet – until he gets to his right pauldron. The left is, as Rex mentioned, missing. Is Obi-Wan still holding onto it? Or did he put it somewhere safe? Will they ever see each other again so the armor can be returned, or will a piece always be missing?

He curls over the pauldron, his stomach clenching, heart lurching in his chest. He can't bear the thought of replacing its twin, not when it's in Obi-Wan's hands. He doesn't even care that there will be questions. Gasping in a breath, he stands, looking down at the pauldron with unseeing eyes, and suddenly he's hit with the urge to throw it at the wall. He shouldn't have to replace its twin, because Obi-Wan should have stayed, he should be here. He should be telling Cody he's going to be okay, and that he made the right decisions, even if Jango disapproves, and Bacara and Fox think he's crazy.

He doesn't throw the pauldron. That would be sacrilege. Though once the urge passes, his fingers have turned white against the metal, and his cheeks are wet. He scrubs them dry with his palms and sits back down with the armor, picking up the paintbrush to restore what he's scrubbed away.

As he fills in the white, he hesitates, then adds a touch of black along the orange. In Cody's shoes, Jango would no doubt use the gold of vengeance. Cody will show everyone he's more interested in justice.

Again, he saves the pauldron for last. He swallows. He knows what he wants, but it's going to gain him a lot of enemies if he does it openly. He intends there to be a sea change when it comes to relations with the Jedi Order, one way or another, but it won't happen overnight. So for now, he will paint the Jedi symbol on the inside, following the curve of the metal, so it will rest against his shoulder once he can wear it again.

Obi-Wan wouldn't disapprove of that, Cody thinks, his words on attachment notwithstanding. He would also approve of Cody's handling of the Pykes. The fact that Jango disapproves is more of an upside than a downside, at this point.

The deal they've made concerning the Pykes has been going around in Cody's head. His buir isn't wrong about what the Pykes are likely to do once all Mandalorians are gone. Coming back in a year and letting the chips fall where they may in the meantime would be beyond stupid.

He would have liked to hear Obi-Wan's views on the matter, but he's sure of one thing: Obi-Wan would agree that since this was Cody's decision, he needs to take responsibility. He let them live. That means the consequences are on him.

---

"You're sure you want to do this?" Bacara's voice is colored with disgust.

"I have to." Cody takes a deep breath and opens the door to the meeting room provided by King Yaruba. He feels oddly light without his beskar'gam weighing him down, like the planet's gravity is too low. He's not used to business meetings in plainclothes.

He almost misses a step when he lays eyes on the Pyke delegation waiting for him. For a second, he can hear the crackle of an electroprod, feel the weight of a collar around his neck.

Clenching his fists, he steps forward and takes a seat at the table, grounding himself in the smooth texture of the tabletop and the fresh air provided by the expensive air filtration system. Bacara stands at his shoulder as a silent guard. He wishes it were Obi-Wan, with his paklalat⁴.

He gives himself a mental smack. He can do this by himself. He needs to. He inclines his head. "Administrator Yom."

The Pyke in the middle bows obsequiously low and rumbles something.

"Well met, Prince Cody," the protocol droid translates. "We would like to apologize once again for your treatment. Had we known of your position in the Mandalorian Empire–"

"The Mandalorian Empire doesn't have princes," Cody speaks over the droid. He regrets it instantly. The assumption is grating, but it sure gets him respect, which might not go amiss here. He tries to subtly course-correct. "That's not my title. We have a military hierarchy. You can address me as Commander Cody."

"Commander," the administrator amends – or at least, the droid does it for her. "We would be happy to discuss reparations…"

Cody can't hold back a scoff. Reparations. What sort of reparations would ever make up for the enslavement, starvation, and mistreatment? The bomb collar around his neck? However… his conversation with Obi-Wan about Kamino flashes through his mind. If he doesn't give them the chance, how will there ever be change? He leans back in his chair. "Do you intend to offer reparations to all the freed people who survived the mine? To the families of those who died?"

The Pykes shift uneasily, looking at each other, before Yom speaks. "You must understand, Commander, that we do not have the means to do so. It will be months before the mine is up and running again, and in the meantime, we will be making a loss, clearing the drifts–"

Cody folds his arms. "Who owns the mine?"

"Several off-world investors are –"

It's awfully satisfying to keep interrupting them. "The Syndicate operates through third parties?"

Yom dips her head. "The… the Syndicate is not a legal entity, of course."

"So how do they collect revenue from the mines?"

Yom hesitates, then leans forward. "You must understand. The Syndicate doesn't need to own the enterprises if they own the people. The investors own the shares, but they pay a… a tax, you might say, to the Syndicate. The loss of the mine will hurt the investors more than the Syndicate itself."

No surprise there. Cody leans forward as well. "I know you were cut off from the Syndicate once the war with the White Queen broke out. Will they come back to try to get the mine operational again, or will they cut their losses?"

The Pyke next to Yom laughs and says something which the protocol droid immediately translates, possibly without Yom's approval, going by the stare she levels at her colleague. "They'll wait for us to pick ourselves back up. If we fail, it's our problem. If we succeed, they'll come in and demand back taxes."

Cody considers that. "Will they interfere with the operation of the mine itself? Do they insist on a certain method of mining?"

Yom sits back, drumming her three fingers on the table. "You want us to agree not to use slaves."

She's a quick one. Cody meets her eyes through the mask. "In a nutshell."

She doesn't flinch. "Slave labor is cheapest. We need to generate profit."

And the people who suffer and die in the process are irrelevant, clearly. Cody fantasizes about ripping the mask off her head and watching her choke. It might show on his face. He doesn't bother straightening it. "Mandalorians have mined beskar at a profit for centuries, and we don't use slaves to do so. There are mining practices you could be using that would increase your production beyond your wildest dreams." He spreads his hands. "I could put you in touch with people who are knowledgeable in the field. But the price is, as you said, your agreement to forgo slave labor."

Yom shares a look with her colleagues. "Beskar is an extremely valuable metal. Operating at a profit is far easier for a beskar mine than for a spice mine."

"Beskar is also a lot harder to extract, so that's not entirely true." Cody has no personal experience (and he's grateful for it now; one mine was enough), but he's done his research. He pauses before deciding to use his leverage. "You did say you wanted to offer reparations. Those are my terms. My father, the Mand'alor, suggested having you executed for the insult to my person, but I would prefer working towards a better future." He holds his breath.

The Pykes are stricken silent. He's not normally one to enjoy terror, but it would have been nice to see them pale at the implied threat. Too bad the masks are in the way. Finally, Yom temporarily silences the protocol droid and confers with her colleagues. They come back with, "If you can indeed show us mining practices or equipment that would allow us to generate a profit while also using paid labor, we will agree to a trial run."

Cody narrows his eyes. "A trial run that starts after the drifts are cleared and the spice vein can be worked again."

Yom nods. "Of course. We will play fair if you do." She hesitates. "And if the Syndicate comes calling?"

Cody sighs. He can't go toe to toe with the Syndicate, even as beat up as they must be right now. But it's not a dealbreaker. "Pay them. I won't own the mine. This is just… cooperation." Though he will make damn sure there's some oversight coming along with whatever equipment is exchanged.

Yom bows. "We look forward to closer relations with the esteemed Mandalorian Empire."

Closer relations, indeed. He might be saving their mine and their necks for then, when all is said and done, and all because they put him in chains. Cody wants nothing more than to punch Yom in the teeth. He swallows down the bitter taste and nods back. If this works, the method might spread, and Kessel's mines might start to change. He hopes Obi-Wan will be proud once he hears of this – if he hears of it.

Glossary

1. baar'ur : medic, doctor [↑]
2. Cuy'val Dar : those who no longer exist (because the trainers on Kamino had to go disappear entirely and go without contact with the outside world for the duration of the contract [↑]
3. shabuir : motherfucker [↑]
4. paklalat : silver tongue, wit, eloquence [↑]