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.

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.”