The Republic hasn't had a standing army in over two thousand years. Even before the Reformation, there was no war on a grand enough scale to justify the expense. It feels like a bad joke, when the Chancellor decrees it, when the Senate allows it. The Jedi aren't a military. The Jedi have never been a military. They give Obi-Wan a battalion. They give him a battlecruiser, a Marshall Commander, they knight his Padawan. He looks over all the clerical minutiae a military runs on and wishes they'd given him a secretary. cody, obi-wan, and ghost company at the beginning of the war, learning to work together, trust each other, maybe even like each other

Personal logs from a datapad, early Empire era. Property of the University of Ainac, department of History, Archives, YGE (years of the Galactic Empire) 27.ca.38

While cut off from the GAR during an extended campaign, Obi-Wan discovers an infant and a sense of self-preservation.

Vokara speaks before he can. “I didn’t come here for your permission. I don’t need it. I am a Master Healer, and it is my right to take an apprentice.” “And you want Obi-Wan Kenobi?” Mace Windu asks. “Yes,” Vokara answers. Or, Obi-Wan is wanted, becomes a healer, and this changes everything.

“How you feeling, sir?” he asked, eyeing his General. They’d, at least, managed to all evac back to the shuttles without losing anyone, leaving the noxious-smelling laboratory where they’d found a pack of Seppy scientists working on new biological weapons behind. “I’ll be fine, Commander,” Obi-Wan said, without opening his eyes, his voice thick and hoarse. “But comm ahead, would you, and make sure the medics are ready for me.” OR, the one were Obi-Wan gets dosed with an especially nasty toxin, and Cody helps him survive the following hours.

“This is incredibly sweet,” Obi-Wan observed with a fond smile. Cody was currently telling the cadets a story and they listened excitedly to his every word. “He just exudes ori’vod energy. The younger ones can’t help themselves,” Alpha replied. “It’s been like this his entire life.”

When Obi-Wan Kenobi and Mace Windu get a rather insistent Force-vision directing their attention to the Rishi base, the last thing they expect is to find a Force-sensitive clone who may very well change the course of the war. Or: Ghost Company gets five new shinies, Obi-Wan gets a padawan, Cody gets a new perspective on things, and Mace gets a (many) headache.

Two months after the Guard officially moves to Coruscant, the lawyer shows up. _ In which Obi-Wan Kenobi never returns to the Jedi order after the war on Melidaa/Dann and instead finds another way to follow the Force's will. Namely, by fighting sentient-rights abuses all over the galaxy and emancipating the Grand Army of the Republic, one clone trooper at a time.

Believe it or not, Obi-Wan Kenobi had a rebellious phase. It just so happened that, once acquired, he never really grew out of it. -- In which Obi-Wan is a hobbyist exotic dancer. (And is really rather good at it, too.)

“You have a choice,” Cody begins. “I don’t want any of you to think that you don’t. If you want no part of this, all you have to do is say so. But if I know any of you half as well as I think I do, this choice won’t be particularly hard to make.” He takes a deep breath and counts his heartbeats against the reverent silence of the mess hall. “We may belong to the Republic, but we were made for the Jetti.” And thus, the 212th Attack Battalion abducts their General. (It's for his own health, really.)

He’d known how some of the men are with younglings—known from Waxer and Boil how sharply those attachments can form with little ones. Hell, the men were raised to be protective, so much so that Obi-Wan has often wondered if their protective drive was not written into their very atoms, some intrinsic part of their DNA. It wasn’t something Obi-Wan had ever questioned. He’d thought he had understood the scope of it. In reality, he hadn’t understood a thing. Not until Kamino. Or: Not all that dive from cliffs make a running head start. Sometimes, the Fall is only a natural progression.

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.”

“Are you all the Council sent, then?” Bo-Katan asks, swinging one leg over the speeder’s seat. Her voice is raspy, and Cody wonders if it’s from smoke inhalation. “Considering they wouldn’t help with the first Sith, I guess I should be glad for any help at all with the second.” It's the first time he's heard someone use that word to describe Kenobi, and he bristles. “We’re not here on behalf of the Council, Miss Kryze. We're here for our general.” Or: Everyone has a breaking point. That includes Obi-Wan. That includes Cody.

Alpha-17 was made for war. He was made to kill the enemies of the Republic. He was made to die. He was not made to deal with a Jedi lineages interpersonal drama. He was not made to deal with a conspiracy at the heart of the Republic. And he sure as fuck was not made to be witness to Cody's weird as shit relationship with General Kenobi despite not even being assigned to the 212th. And Yet. Here he was. (This was written over the course of a long spell of insomnia. Pecked at during the worst of my 4am insomnia fugue states. So it is what it is and I have no idea what this is. Enjoy.)