Adrift in a strange universe, Marc gets hired to take out a Jedi general. He agrees, even knowing it won't be an easy mission. What he doesn't expect is the interference of one Commander Cody, which throws him into a tailspin and sets off a cascade of events that absolutely no one could have predicted. At least Khonshu is having one hell of a time.

Getting flung five years into the past is pretty much a miracle. Crash-landing on the weirdest Jedi Master he's ever had the misfortune to meet is a lot more like one extended headache for Rex, especially when he also has to contend with a brand new Force sensitivity, old friends, a Force spirit wearing a familiar face, Sith Lords, ruthless cloners, and the looming shadow of a coming war. Maybe it really would have been easier to make like Obi-Wan and find a nice, sandy planet to bury himself on.

Aka Darth Talon, Arla Fett, and Xanatos break the timestream. It isn't the worst thing that could happen.

It all comes down to this: the babies in his arms are just so little. “You should sit down, Sir. Let Waxer and I take the tubies for a minute,” Cody gentles. Despite the even, easy tone, despite knowing that it’s Cody and that, as the last twenty-four hours have successfully proved beyond a doubt, Cody would rather die than see any harm come to him, Obi-Wan can’t suppress his immediate reaction to the thought of putting the twins— his twins, his now, and he’ll die before he lets anything touch them—down. “Full disclosure, I don’t believe I am capable of letting go of them, at the moment.” He thinks for a beat and then adds, “Possibly ever.”

“If you're not very careful right now,” Obi-Wan says pleasantly, “I'm going to push you into the lava.”