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batsutousaiTitle: Now I Fly
Series: Make a Brand New End
Fandom: Star Wars
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Alternate Universe, Qui-Gon Lives, time travel fix-it, jedi families, angst, hurt/comfort, non-binary character, character with claustrophobia, slavery, OC/OC relationship
Summary: Feemor made a promise to Anakin, that he would do what he could to free his mother. With the money and a place to live sorted, all he needs now is someone to go and get her. And there are few beings he'd trust more with such a task, than his former padawan, Ace.
A/N: Lurking_Ghost, on AO3, requested a show of Ace being nicer than we've seen them in the series so far. Hopefully this suits.
This fic was initially gonna go in an entirely different direction, but I was struggling a bit with the mission, so when the idea I've ended up using hit me, I had to change out the whole opening to make it work. Whoops? ^^;
Series timeline-wise, this fic takes place during Start of Something Good. When, during Mace's comm call to Feemor at the end of chapter two, Wangui mentions Feemor not sleeping since Ace and Vega left on a mission? This is that mission.
I know I said I'm trying to avoid ships in this series, and that's still true, but just an FYI that Ace stared at me until I gave them a girlfriend. (She actually fits nicely into a potential future sideplot, so she may show up again.)
Oh, hey, so, I've been getting a lot of reviews on previous fics with people misgendering Ace. Please remember that the correct pronouns are they/them. Original characters deserve respect, too. Thanks!
Cross-posted to Archive of Our Own and LiveJournal.
Chapter One—A Scream Inside We All Try to Hide
-0-
Ace may have been willing to let their grandmaster train them in lightsabre combat, but they could only stand being around Jinn for so long, before the old urge to break his face, like he'd broken Feemor, got too strong and they had to excuse themself. Jinn, at least, seemed to understand, and had never once attempted to convince them to stay longer than they were comfortable with. (It wasn't as though Vega or Wangui followed them, so Jinn still had students to work with.)
It was just such a time—Ace working out lingering anger and frustration through moving meditation atop one of the cliffs in the Room of a Thousand Fountains—when Feemor came to find them.
He didn't interrupt—he never interrupted Ace during their meditation, moving or still, having once teased that he couldn't imagine getting in the way of a minor miracle—but settled nearby, his familiar presence a balm to the frayed edges of Ace's temper.
When they powered their lightsabre down and turned to look, they found their former master sitting on the bank of the stream atop the cliffs, boots off next to him and leggings rolled up so he could leave his feet in the water. "Some aquatic padawan is probably down in the pool, choking on the taste of your Senate feet," Ace teased as they stepped over to sit next to Feemor.
Feemor snorted and cast them an amused glance. "Better my 'Senate feet' than your workout sweat," he returned.
Ace made a show of rolling their eyes, which earnt them a raised eyebrow from Feemor, but their former master had given up on trying to rid them of that bad habit well before their knighting. (Ace held to it that Feemor wouldn't be half the diplomat he was if he hadn't been forced to get used to apologising for Ace's bad manners.)
Rather than further the teasing, Ace leant over and rested their head on Feemor's shoulder, closing their eyes when Feemor—possibly automatically—started carding his fingers through their hair, letting the familiar offer of comfort lull them into a light trance.
With their own emotions already dealt with, Ace turned their focus, instead, to Feemor's. The deep well of affection Feemor had always held for them was the most obvious, of course, not even slightly tainted by Ace abandoning him in the future—no, don't think about that, you'll only upset yourself, and then he'll start worrying again. There was amusement, too, from their little bit of teasing, and probably from Ace letting themself be lulled into a trance so soon after meditating.
Underneath all the warmth, however, were fractures of stress and grief and a fear that was so deeply entrenched in Feemor's self, Ace was afraid that no amount of therapy would work it loose. The whole mess of darker emotions still brought to mind the state of their former master after Jinn's repudiation, and even knowing it wasn't their grandmaster's fault, that the source of this grief and fear was the fault of some yet unknown sith, the correlation still made Ace want to rebreak his nose.
"Calm, little pilot," Feemor murmured, blunted nails scratching pleasantly over the curve of Ace's skull.
Ace accepted the returned anger, reminded themself it wasn't helpful—and aimed at the wrong person, unfortunately—and envisioned blasting the entire lot into the Force.
"Better," Feemor murmured, approving, and Ace couldn't stop themself from warming at the praise.
(It was true, what some of the knights they'd spoken to in the months before their Trials said: You never really outgrow your master.)
Shaking away the lingering trance, Ace murmured, "You don't usually seek me out."
Uncertainty flickered along their bond and Ace frowned, even as Feemor said, "I have a...request."
Ace pulled away, sitting up straight so they could turn to face their former master, folding their legs between them. "Okay."
Feemor was rubbing the hem of his outer tunic between his fingers, a nervous tell that Ace knew their former master would be annoyed with himself for as soon as he realised he was doing it. "Yes," he said. "It's not really–" He stopped, turned a frown on his own hand, which flattened against his leg, and Ace had to bite their tongue to keep from laughing at him.
"It's not really?" they prompted when Feemor didn't immediately start talking again.
Feemor shook his head. "Right, sorry." He cleared his throat, took in a slow, careful breath, and then finally turned to look at Ace. "You know about Anakin's circumstances? Where he was before he joined us?"
Ace's jaw clenched at the reminder; yes, Wangui had told them that the boy had grown up a slave, apparently prompted to share that by Obi-Wan or Feemor, because one or both of them thought it best that all of the adults who spent any significant amount of time with Anakin needed to know what traumas laid in his past, just waiting to show themselves at the least opportune moment. "I know," they agreed tightly.
Feemor reached out and squeezed their shoulder. "His mum is still there."
"Jinn left her?!" Ace couldn't stop from shouting, incensed.
"Peace, Padawan," Feemor said. There was no Force compulsion behind the words, but his tone was a familiar one, and Ace subsided, still displeased, but not about to jump up and race off to punch their grandmaster.
(Okay, Ace could...maybe admit that they spent too much time wanting to rearrange their grandmaster's face. But, in their defence, Jinn totally deserved it.)
Feemor sighed, like he was reading Ace's mind and disapproved. "From what I've heard—from both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, don't make that face—Qui-Gon did try to free her, but couldn't talk the Toydarian around to it." And then, perhaps having seen or sensed Ace's continued discontent, added, "Toydarians are highly resistant to mind tricks."
"Isn't he supposed to be some sort of kriffing diplomat?!"
"Yes," Feemor said, tone mild, "but one can only talk the greedy around so far. Which you know."
Ace huffed and slumped a bit; they did know, had sat through plenty enough meetings and treaty signings as a padawan that they were unlikely to ever forget how greedy the wealthy and powerful could be.
Feemor squeezed their shoulder again, then withdrew his hand, instead folding it together with the other in his lap. "I've been speaking with some people the last week, trying to find the funds to get Shmi—Anakin's mother—off Tatooine and set up somewhere much nicer."
"And you've managed it?" Ace asked, hopeful.
Feemor offered them a slightly crooked smile. "Yes. Queen Amidala offered up the funds, and she, Senator Antilles of Alderaan, Senator Thundersinger of the Hevvrol Sector, and Duke Dremwium of Ord Varee are all quite willing to give Shmi a home on their planets. Her choice."
Ace shook their head, just a little impressed with how connected their former master was. They doubted those were the only options, just the ones Feemor believed Anakin's mother would find the most comfortable. (Or, more likely, they realised after thinking about it for a moment, those were simply the options that had some sort of integration program for refugees and recently freed slaves already in place.)
"I do, however, need someone to go free and collect Shmi," Feemor added, and then turned a pointed look on Ace.
Ace quirked a smile. "Council know I'm going?"
Feemor cleared his throat and looked a little bit uncomfortable. "Ah. No?"
"Are you asking me, or telling me, Master?" Ace couldn't resist teasing.
Feemor sighed. "How long have you been waiting to use that on me?" he asked, and while his expression was very unimpressed, amusement danced along their bond.
"Oh, probably about twenty years," Ace decided.
Feemor shook his head. "Have I mentioned, recently, how terrible an apprentice you were?" he asked.
Ace just grinned; they hadn't questioned how much Feemor adored them since their Trials. And, even then, a part of them had never truly been able to believe their master would do anything but accept them for the being they were.
Feemor cast them a smile, warm and so very fond. "Yes, very well," he said, humour colouring his voice, "I'm telling you. No, I'm afraid the Council doesn't know, and I'm not certain they'd approve–"
Ace frowned. "Why not?" they interrupted. "Slavery is abhorrent, Master. I know some of the Council can come off a bit...stiff? Sometimes, but–"
"Ace," Feemor said, holding up a hand, his smile gaining a resigned turn. "It's less the idea of freeing Shmi, and more the reasons and the means."
Ah, right. It wasn't technically against the rules to allow initiates and padawans to interact with their former families, but there were far more examples of jedi leaving the Order or Falling if they met their family before their Trials of Knighthood, than there were of those who had been able to balance their priorities as a member of the Order and a child/sibling. (Hells, their own lineage had a prime example of how rediscovering lost family before you were ready could send you straight into the dark side.)
Given how irregular Anakin's childhood had already been, as well as his particular strength with the Force, it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility that the Council might tamp down harder than usual on any chance that the boy might interact with the family he'd left behind. Hopefully as much out of concern for what scars slavery had left on him, as the ever-present fear of attachment.
As for the 'means'... Again, there wasn't really a rule against jedi requesting funds from planetary rulers, meant for such cases as when they were unable to contact the Council to cover costs incurred on a mission, but Feemor wasn't on a mission and had ample access to members of the Council to push a request for funds at. That his last mission—as much as one could call him inviting himself along a mission—had resulted in him, Jinn, Obi-Wan, and Anakin being key figures in ending a planetary occupation and saving untold lives, made requesting funds from Amidala seem almost like a thank you bribe, which they did have rules against, although those were rules that came from the Senate, rather than some law written by previous Councillors in an attempt to make them all better jedi.
Feemor patted their arm. "You let me worry about the Council," he suggested.
That was something Ace was perfectly happy to leave in their former master's hands. "Am I taking Vega?" they asked.
Feemor shrugged. "I suppose that's up to the two of you."
So, Feemor wasn't expecting it to be a dangerous trip, not that Ace had really expected as much, and he also didn't have any plans in need of keeping Vega in Temple, save her and Wangui learning combat skills from Jinn. And that last was going to be very long-term; a couple of weeks away wasn't going to put his padawan that far behind. (They'd have time on a ship to practise together, anyway; Ace might not be the Ataru master Jinn was, nor did they have the not-so-dusty skills Feemor had revealed during his duel with Jinn, but they knew the katas as well as any knight. It had never been that they couldn't teach their padawan Ataru, more that they simply didn't do enough fighting on the ground to see the point in teaching those skills. (On a ship, after all, the ceilings were rarely high enough for Ataru's acrobatics, which made nearly any of the other forms preferable if you got boarded.)
"Okay. Tatooine, you said?"
"Mm-hm."
"Where, exactly, on that dustball am I going?"
Feemor coughed, amusement bright across their bond. "Mos Espa. Queen Amidala sent me directions from the spaceport to both the Toydarian, Watto's, shop and Shmi's home."
Ace snorted. "What, you didn't ask Anakin?"
"I think," Feemor replied, his voice gone tight, "that Anakin will be doing more than enough reliving his time in Mos Espa with Healer Jeffinez."
Ace winced. "Oh, right. That– Sorry."
Their former master sighed and reached over to pat their knee. "Anakin would likely have been able to give excellent directions," he allowed, "but the handmaiden the queen sent with Qui-Gon was trained to look for landmarks and count cross-streets in such a way to best help someone unfamiliar with the locale."
"Fancy."
Feemor sent them a look that Ace had always translated as their former master rolling his eyes, and Ace grinned at him. "Terrible apprentice," Feemor informed them, and Ace just let their grin widen. Feemor shook his head. "At any rate, while I told Anakin I would see to his mother, and I fully intend to tell him once she's free, I don't wish to make his inevitable efforts to track her down any easier than they need be."
"So, don't go telling him which planet she ends up on?" Ace guessed.
"Please."
Ace laughed. "I promise, Master. And I'll make sure Vega knows, too, if she's interested in coming with."
"Good." Feemor nodded, then dropped back to lie in the grass. "Now, bugger off, I want to relax."
Ace choked, still more than a little startled to hear their once mild-mannered former master be so impolite. (They'd heard more k-words in the past two months, than they'd heard from Feemor in the entire twenty years previous. It had to have come from something that occurred during that future-that-wouldn't-be, but Ace didn't really want to ask, only to find out it was because of their or Wangui's deaths.) "I was here first, you know," they complained, even as they got to their feet. Because, well, they did need to head out and try to tempt Vega away from Jinn so they could talk. The sooner the better, in their opinion; Anakin's mum didn't deserve to be left a slave any longer than necessary.
"And now you're leaving," Feemor agreed, eyes closed and posture relaxed.
Ace used the Force to scoop up some water and dump it on Feemor's head, but their former master just let out a pleased hum, one corner of his mouth twitching upwards in that way that meant he was trying not to smile. Or smirk. "You realise you're the worst former master ever."
"Oh? Are you updating Qui-Gon to the change, or shall I do it?"
Ace grimaced. "Second worst," they corrected, and left Feemor to laugh.
On their way back to the salles, Ace pulled out their personal comm. There was a notice from their Temple account that they'd received extra funds, which looked to have been sent as soon as Feemor left the Senate, because their former master knew Ace far too well to assume they wouldn't jump at the chance to go free a slave. (Especially one who was the mother of an initiate. Double-especially when that initiate had apparently been a member of their lineage in a future-that-wouldn't-be, and looked to be attempting to attach himself to them again.) There was also a forwarded message, with directions around Mos Espa and a note that Republic credits were useless on Tatooine and whoever went to collect Shmi would need to pay with Huttese currency.
Ace snorted at that last; any jedi who had any familiarity with non-Republic worlds knew better than to carry only Republic credits. Hells, Ace kept a stash of nova crystals in their go-bag—a suggestion from Rún—just in case they had to make an emergency landing or stop for repairs to their ship somewhere that they couldn't access their Republic account. (They were fairly certain Feemor did the same thing, although, now he was essentially chained to the Senate, he probably didn't bother to carry the valuable crystals in one of his belt pouches, like he'd done when Ace was his padawan.)
Vega met them at the door to the salles, holding up her own personal comm in greeting. "Directions to a tech shop in Mos Espa?" she asked.
Ace motioned with their head that she should join them in returning to their flat. "Yeah, Feemor wants us to go, mm, pick someone up."
She blinked. "Master Feemor wants us to go," she repeated.
They nodded.
"Just Master Feemor."
They nodded again.
She shook her head. "Right. I get the first shower."
Ace didn't bother arguing.
Ace had filled Vega in after their shower, while they were changing and she was checking her go-bag.
"Of course I'm coming," she'd said when they clarified that she didn't need to come. Which, honestly? Ace had expected that; Vega's discomfort with enclosed spaces had never once stopped her from helping someone in need.
She looked a little less certain when they plugged the coordinates into the Stardust's nav computer and it sent back a travel time of six days, her slightly darker brown skin going ashen.
"We can make some stopovers," Ace promised immediately, pulling up a travel map. "Look, we'll be going along the Corellian Run almost the whole way. We can make a stop on Corellia, do some shopping at the port, stretch our legs. Maybe harass Tobi at the Temple. And, uh..." They considered the rest of the Run, trying to think of a reason to stop at any of the other planets along the trade route, while both R1 and Vega let out noises of amusement, because Ace had a long history of using any excuse to see their Corellian Jedi friend. "Allanteen Six!"
"Master," Vega complained, rolling her eyes. "We don't have to stop at every ship yard–"
"Oh, no, we are absolutely stopping there, now," Ace decided, already inputting stops at Corellia and Allanteen Six into the nav computer. "And we can stop at Christophsis. It's supposed to be a gorgeous planet, crystal everything. Probably find some really nice presents for your friends."
Vega scoffed, but didn't stop them from adding the planet to the nav computer, which let out an unhappy noise at adding yet another stop. (In truth, stopping at Allanteen Six was probably a good idea; Ace had been debating updating the damn computer system for months. Which wasn't to say they couldn't have gone to the head of the Temple's ship maintenance crew and asked for an upgrade, just, well, they'd won the Stardust in a maybe illegal swoop race a couple of months after they'd picked Vega as their padawan, and there were some upgrades to the ship that they knew weren't Republic-approved, which meant they would need to be removed if they were spotted by someone who cared a little more about following the law than Ace did. The best way to keep anyone from feeling honour-bound to report their ship, was to just never let anyone else aboard to do maintenance. And since Ace wasn't the only ace who owned their own ship and preferred to do their own maintenance—likely for a similar reason, knowing their fellow aces—the Temple crew didn't care.)
"Could we, also, make a stop at Herdessa?" Vega asked, pointing to another planet along the route. "They make a sweet cake that Obi-Wan was teasing Master Qui-Gon for liking."
Ace made a face at the mention of their grandmaster, but obediently added it to the list of stops; this was an excuse to get Vega out of the confines of the ship, and if she wanted to use a stop to get her great-grandmaster something, it wasn't Ace's place to stop her. (Even if they really, really wanted to.) "I'm not trying one," they said, because they had to say something.
"As sour as you are, it would probably kill you," Vega retorted.
Ace eyed her suspiciously. "You have been spending far too much time with me."
She smirked, while R1 tittered in the corner, where they were running through the pre-flight checks.
"Why," Ace complained good-naturedly as they closed the nav computer's route change screen, "am I being nice enough to take you to a planet with two suns? R1, we good?" they added, glancing back at the astromech.
"Wait, Tatooine has two suns?" Vega demanded, face lighting up, while R1 chirped back an affirmative. "Does that mean there's no nighttime?"
"They have a night," Ace replied as they made their way to the piloting station. "It's probably shorter than the day, but I don't know for certain. You can ask Anakin's mum, once we've freed her."
"Lame," Vega complained, drooping in her seat. "If you're going to have a spare sun, you should at least not have a night."
[Gravity doesn't work like that, Plant-ling,] R1 beeped.
Ace made a 'what they said' motion as they manoeuvred out of the Temple hanger and out into the always-busy Coruscant airspace.
"It should," Vega muttered.
"Tell it to the Force," Ace suggested, and couldn't stop a grin when Vega's response was to blow her tongue at them.
R1 tittered another laugh, but politely didn't comment.
Flying in Coruscant was comfortably familiar, and their jedi status meant it took them no time at all to get clearance to move their freighter out of atmosphere and lined up for the Corellian Run. As soon as they jumped to hyperspace, they stood and stretched. "Right. R1, you've got this?"
[If you really think I'm as useless as you are, you're welcome to find a newer model during one of our stops,] R1 replied, which was exactly the sort of response Ace would have expected of their snippy droid.
Ace flashed them a grin, then prodded their padawan with the Force. "Come on, Vega. No time like the present to make sure there's space in the hanger to spar."
Vega jerked around in her chair to stare at them, emerald green eyes gone wide. "You mean it?" she asked, hopeful. "We can really do some proper sparring?"
"Not if there's crates in the way."
Vega jumped out of her chair and raced ahead.
Ace grimaced in R1's direction. "Think I should have cleared space in the hanger before this?"
[You don't really want me to answer that,] R1 returned, somehow getting across exactly what they thought of Ace's higher processing functions through the tone of their beeps.
"Not particularly," Ace admitted, and left R1 to snicker to themself as they went to join their padawan in the hanger bay.
Part of the reason they'd entered the swoop race was because the Wayfarer-class ship they'd had as a prize had the original Kuat attachment, with a hanger more than large enough for their Whitecloak fighter to fit, as well as a second fighter that a passenger or mission-partner might favour. While they had told anyone who asked that the hanger fitting their fighter was the entire reason they'd wanted the ship, the truth was that they'd got it for Vega, who hadn't been able to handle any of the normal jedi transport ships, all of them feeling far too confined to her. The hanger bay, though, had given her somewhere to escape to when the close hallways of the ship got to be too much for her.
Ace had never told Vega that was the reason they'd got the ship, though they wouldn't have been surprised if she'd figured it out at some point over the past five years. The only person they had told was Feemor, mostly because he'd been the one Ace had gone to when they realised they couldn't possibly inflict travel on their new padawan if most ships they might travel in were going to give her a panic attack. Feemor had suggested looking into ships with large cargo holds, or an observation deck with an entire wall or ceiling made up of transparisteel. He'd admitted, upon seeing the Stardust, that a ship with an attached hanger hadn't even occurred to him, and was probably a far better choice.
With only one fighter in a hanger that could hold two, there was plenty of space for them to do some sparring. Although, since they didn't have a second fighter (Ace had never even tried to get Vega in one), the hanger bay had sort of turned into an extended cargo hold and speeder bike maintenance bay, which meant it took them almost three hours to move various cargo crates, get the speeder bike back into working order, and shove it and the maintenance equipment for it back into the sectioned speeder bay.
By the time there was space, they were both hungry, and Vega was wilting that way she did when she needed to sleep, so Ace shooed her off to wash up and put some food together while they finished moving the last of the cargo crates, then went to clean up themself.
"We are sparring tomorrow," Vega muttered to her food.
"Of course we are," Ace agreed. "And then you can spend some time on that essay you think I don't know is due before we're likely to be back."
Vega's shoulders went up around her ears. "Oh. That."
"Mm-hm."
"I...should get an extension, though, right?" she asked hopefully.
Ace raised an eyebrow at her, the same way Feemor had always done to them. "For a mission the Council didn't approve?"
"Well, yeah, but Master Feemor will convince them!"
The thing was, Ace couldn't say Feemor wouldn't manage to convince the Council; they didn't know exactly how much the Council knew about the future their former master had seen, nor how much he'd have to explain to get them to believe 'this mission is important for the sake of the future'.
Still. "We have over two weeks' worth of hyperspace travel time, not counting whatever additional travel we'll need to do to get Anakin's mum to the world she chooses," they pointed out drily. "There's only so much to do on this ship; just write the essay."
She let out the long-suffering sigh all padawans seemed to master by the end of their first year of apprenticeship. "Fine."
"And, if you finish it in time, you can send it to Feemor or Obi-Wan and they can check it over for you," Ace added.
Vega brightened. "Did you know Obi-Wan was the top of his classes as a padawan?" she asked, before wincing. "Well, during the years he managed to actually attend classes and turn in assignments."
Ace was not going to get pissed off at their grandmaster. Nope, not this time. Sometimes missions just...ran over! Everyone knew that. It was a simple fact of life for jedi. Especially jedi like Jinn, who was always in demand for some reason Ace couldn't even begin to comprehend. "You know," they said in a hopefully bland tone, "having met my uncle, I can believe that."
Vega giggled, so clearly delighted every time Ace referred to Obi-Wan as 'uncle'. (If Obi-Wan's reactions weren't so priceless, Ace wouldn't find it half so enjoyable a pastime. Now, if only they could convince Wangui to do it, too, they might get Obi-Wan to start calling them his niblings. Like how he sometimes called Feemor his big brother in that shy, uncertain way that made Ace think he didn't quite believe he was an actual part of their family.
Karking Jinn. There was no way this wasn't his fault.)
"Master," Vega complained, "how are you possibly upset with Master Qui-Gon this time?"
Right. One or both of them had to be slipping on their shielding if she was reading them enough to know they were back to contemplating the pros of punching their grandmaster's face in. "Bed," they ordered, pointing to the door that led to the largest of the crew quarters. (It was meant to be the captain's quarters, if they had a proper crew, but Ace always gave it to Vega, passengers who might judge them aboard or no, because she needed the space more than they did.) "I'll clean up. And check in with R1."
Vega rolled her eyes and, unnecessarily pointedly (if you asked Ace), picked up her dishes and set them in the sink, then stalked off to the room, calling, "Good night, Idiot Master."
"Stop talking to Kei!" Ace called back, and she giggled. They rolled their eyes, then called, "Good night, Smart-Arse Padawan."
She giggled again, the door closing behind her cutting the noise off.
Amused, Ace quickly washed, dried, and re-secured the dishes—it only took one unexpected space fight to teach them to never leave loose anything that could turn into a hazard if they lost shipboard gravity—then went to check in with their droid.
R1, as expected, was perfectly capable of keeping an eye on the ship's functions for the night, and they didn't even bother checking the droid knew to sound the alarm only in Ace's quarters if something happened—not that they didn't trust Vega to be able to handle most issues, just that she was a growing girl and needed her sleep—before making their way to their own quarters to get some sleep.
It was going to be a long trip.
Unsurprisingly, Vega opted for hitting the shops nearest the port when they got to Corellia. It wasn't that she didn't like Tobi, Ace knew, just that she was somehow of the impression that she was in the way if she was there when they first met up.
Ace suspected it was because, the first time she and Tobi had met, they were in the middle of one of their...disagreements, and she didn't want to walk into another argument at Ace's side. (Not 'lover's spats', Feemor. Force. Given the way he'd always acted about Kei's sexual exploits, Ace had assumed their former master would want less than nothing to do with any partners Ace might end up having, but no.) Tobi, on the other hand, was of the opinion that Vega just wanted to give them time with each other. Which, okay, Ace could...kind of see? But, also, what was better than spending time with two of their favourite beings simultaneously?
When Ace gave their name at the Temple gates, they were waved in, which meant Tobi had finally had them added to the list of acceptable visitors, like she'd been promising to do for years. (That, or one of the guards on duty had recognised them.)
The Corellian Temple wasn't anywhere near as familiar as the Coruscant Temple, but Ace knew their way to the Halls of Healing, and that was usually where Tobi was, so they headed that way.
Unsurprisingly, she was there, her pretty blue eyes going wide behind the fall of her black hair at the sight of them. Then she grinned, teeth bright against the darkness of her skin, and strode over to wrap an arm around their shoulders. "Well, hello there, gorgeous," she said, and kissed them.
Ace had to take a moment to fight back the reflexive panic at kissing in Temple, because the Corellian Temple was way less strict about relationships—Ace transferring to Corellia so they could get married was one of their more constant disagreements; Ace had been raised on Coruscant, and couldn't really wrap their head around the idea of marriage vows not flying in the face of their knight's vows, not to mention how horrifying the idea of leaving Feemor was—then kissed her back, curling their arms around her waist and pulling her closer.
Someone whistled, loud and obnoxious, and Tobi pulled back to snarl, "I will insist on a prostate exam next time you're in here," to them, which had someone else laughing.
Ace snorted and kissed her chin. "Are you on shift?" they asked, because they knew nothing less than an emergency would get Tobi out of the Halls if she was. Kisses in greeting, yes; leaving the Halls for sex or lunch with Ace and Vega, no.
Tobi eyed them for a moment, then glanced up at the chrono above the entrance to the Halls. "Oh," she said.
"No," a tall Zabrak healer called from where they were standing hunched over a computer terminal. "She's been off shift for three hours. Please remove her from the premises before we assign her a bed and a glucose drip."
"I do not need a glucose drip!" Tobi snapped back.
"Mm-hm," the Zabrak replied, clearly unconvinced.
"Come on," Ace interrupted before Tobi could have a proper go at her co-worker. "Vega's probably got lost in that plant shop down by the docks again."
Tobi snorted—Ace had actually had to drag both of them out, the one time they'd let them in there—but didn't fight them when they tugged her gently from the Halls. "Let me at least change, if we're going out into the city," she said when they reached the first cross-hall.
Ace glanced over at her impeccable green and brown robes, then down at the spacer clothing they usually wore when they were on a mission that was expected to land them somewhere a jedi's presence wouldn't be welcomed, and grimaced. "Okay, yeah."
She quirked a smile and led them left at the next cross-hall, rather than keeping straight. "So, where are you headed, fly-being?" she teased, casting an appreciative eye over the tight clothing.
"Mmmm, Tatooine," Ace admitted, because there wasn't really any reason to hide their destination.
She blinked. "Okay. That's...not usually Coruscant jurisdiction."
Ace snorted, because neither of their Temples were inclined to go mucking about on Hutt-controlled, non-Republic worlds. (Or, well, not on missions that were considered above-board; Ace had heard plenty of stories from Rún about missions that had seen her playing sabacc at a Hutt's table.) "Feemor wants me to rescue a slave," they explained.
"Rescue, or rescue?" Tobi demanded.
"Above board."
She made a face. "Your former master is way too inclined to play by the rules," she muttered.
Ace rolled their eyes. "Some of us," they reminded her drily, "don't live in a building that can withstand an assault by an enemy army."
"Which is why–"
"Tobias," Ace interrupted, scowling.
She pressed her lips into a thin line and didn't speak the rest of the way to her flat.
Once they were inside and she'd retreated to her bedroom to change, however, she called, "You're more tetchy than usual."
"My arsehole of a grandmaster has nosed his broken face back into Feemor's good graces," Ace explained unhappily. "Vega and Wangui both like him."
Tobi whistled. "Wow. Coruscant's venerable Grand Master realise you've got anger issues?"
"Kark off."
She stepped into the doorway, hands on her hips and wearing absolutely nothing, and Ace's mouth went dry. "Love to," she said sweetly.
"...Vega will be fine," Ace decided, and Tobi laughed as they let her grab the lapel of their jacket and drag them in close.
Vega rolled her eyes when they found her. "Hi, Healer Wrentz," she said, before looking at Ace and tapping a finger against her collarbone.
"Vega, my darling," Tobi complained. "I'm certain we've been over this."
Ace glanced down, snorted at the hickey that was—almost certainly on purpose—uncovered by their spacer's shirt. "She's only doing it to get you back for waylaying me," they pointed out.
"You said an hour, Master," Vega reminded them. "It's been almost three."
"We...fell asleep?" Ace suggested, and Tobi ruined it by snickering. They elbowed her, while Vega rolled her eyes again. "I should have comm'd you," they admitted.
"Oh, don't worry, Master. I knew where you were," she said in the exact tone of voice Feemor always used on Kei.
Ace huffed. "Are you trying to sound like your grandmaster?"
She flashed him an impish grin and admitted, "Maybe."
Tobi laughed and blew Vega a kiss. "You almost make me want a padawan," she said.
"You realise you can't give them back when they start to drive you mad, that way," Ace pointed out, and Vega stuck a tongue out at them.
"I said almost," Tobi pointed out.
Ace inclined their head in a 'your win' manner and looked back at their padawan. "Have you eaten?"
"I...snacked?" Vega suggested.
Ace sighed, because that could mean she'd found a patch of sunlight to sit in for twenty minutes, or it could mean she'd got something from one of the street vendors that she could eat while walking. "Right. Well, we haven't eaten, so, preferences?"
Vega glanced at Tobi, who raised her eyebrows and motioned that it was Vega's choice. She sighed and shrugged, then nodded and said, "This way."
She led them to a restaurant that looked like it couldn't decide what culture's food it wanted to specialise in, which was well-patronised, judging by the number of tables that were filled. Still, it didn't take long for a Zeltron woman to come over and take their order, promising, "Two ticks!" as she sashayed away.
"Have I mentioned," Ace said, "how much I hate Corellian time-keeping?"
Tobi snorted, while Vega said, "I don't know, Master, you seem to adapt to it pretty well any time we visit." And then she put on a sweet smile while Tobi snickered.
Ace snorted themself and tipped a hand to their padawan. "Touché."
"So," Tobi said, leaning forward against the table in just such a way to push her breasts up and draw the eye, "tell me about this slave you're off to rescue."
"Master," Vega complained.
"Feemor never said it was a secret mission!" Ace insisted, and she dropped her face into her hands and groaned. Ace very pointedly turned to Tobi. "The unwanted grandmaster managed to free her son, but not her. Feemor found someone willing to front the money to free her and a place to stay, after," they explained. It was enough information to satiate her curiosity, while respecting Anakin's privacy. Also, hiding the fact that the origin of the funds might not be from a Senate-approved source. (Not that Tobi would ever be convinced that Feemor might wilfully break the law, and Ace would never understand how their former master had managed that, because they'd known their former master would happily break whatever laws he thought he could get away with, so long as it was for the sake of someone in need, pretty much since they'd become Feemor's padawan.)
"Hm. Know anything about her?" Tobi asked, head tilted curiously.
Ace frowned, thinking, but Vega agreed, "Yeah, some. An– Her son talks about her sometimes." She smiled crookedly. "Seems to think she's the actual best thing ever, but sounds like she's got a good heart and a deft hand with mechanical things."
Tobi nodded. "Good. Shouldn't be too hard for her to find well-paying work, wherever she ends up," she said, then glanced at Ace. "Force-sensitive?"
Ace shrugged, because how would they know? "Her son is."
Tobi's eyebrows went up. "Kinda impressed your grandmaster had enough to pay for him," she said. "Force-sensitives are notoriously expensive."
Ace clenched their jaw against the thought of a price tag on Anakin.
"Can we not talk about this?" Vega requested quietly, sounding uneasy. "He's my friend," she added when Tobi frowned, confused.
"Oh." Tobi winced. "I'm sorry, Vega." She cast a quick glance between them, then looked up at the ceiling. "Uhm, ah, I know! Tell me about this grandmaster Ace hates so much!" she decided.
Ace grimaced and muttered, "Can we not," but they didn't try to stop Vega from launching into a gushing appraisal of Jinn's combat skills.
It only took three mentions of his name before Tobi had turned raised eyebrows on them. "Ace Kudzulek," she said when Vega stopped talking long enough to take a drink, and their padawan snorted water out of her nose at the sound of their full name, "you never told me you were the grandpadawan of Qui-Gon Jinn."
Ace handed napkins across to Vega. "Why," they complained, "does everyone seem to like him? He's a bastard."
"He's a legend," Tobi insisted, her eyes bright. "Word is he could walk into the Coruscant Temple's Council Chambers completely naked, and if he said the Force made him do it, they'd let him get away with it."
Vega burst out laughing, ducking her head when Ace shot her a betrayed look.
"Thank you so very much for that mental image," Ace bit out, and Vega let out a sound like a dying space whale."You, padawan-mine, are going to be writing an essay on why it's rude to laugh at your master's pain."
Vega twisted in her seat and curled over her knees, still laughing.
"If she stops breathing, it's your fault," Ace informed Tobi.
"It's fine, I'm a healer."
Ace rolled their eyes. "At any rate, I'm fairly certain Master Windu would Force-throw Jinn back down the lift before he could start making any excuses, if he tried that."
Tobi snickered.
"Force, Tobi. I need some sort of industrial-strength hull scourer, now. For my brain. Where's our food?" they added as Tobi's snickers got louder. "I need to choke on my bantha burger and put myself out of my misery."
Tobi leant over and ducked her face into the crook of their neck, muffling giggles against Ace's skin, and Ace rolled their eyes, but wrapped an arm around her in return.
"I'm telling Master Feemor," Vega said once she managed to stop giggling, which then set her off again.
"I'm sure he'll be delighted," Ace retorted, and Vega giggled a little harder, her face starting to tint a little green. "Are you breathing at all?"
Vega shook her head, but she was grinning, so Ace was fairly certain she wasn't in danger of passing out. Yet.
"Just checking."
The arrival of their food finally calmed the two ladies down, and Ace politely didn't mime choking on their food to get them going again.
After they'd finished and Tobi had paid—she claimed it was a rule that, on Corellia, the Corellian Jedi paid, and Ace neither knew nor cared enough to find out otherwise—they stepped outside and Tobi said, "I'm coming with you."
"The hells you are," Ace snapped back, feeling seven kinds of fool for not knowing she'd try to find a way to tag along and nip that idea in the bud much sooner.
Tobi turned a flat look on them. "You're going to rescue a slave, Ace. You have no idea the sort of state she's in, and you have barely enough healing ability to keep yourself from dying from a potentially fatal shot."
Ace leant in close and hissed, "This mission isn't sanctioned. Never mind the bantha shit we'd both end up in for you tagging along on a Coruscant mission–"
"First off," Tobi interrupted, raising a finger between their noses, "it not having the approval of the Coruscant Council makes tagging along way more okay with the Corellian Council."
"Of karking course it would," Ace muttered. Karking bad blood between their Temples.
She raised a second finger between their noses. "Second, you're freeing a slave! We're jedi! That's as 'for the good of sentients' as it gets!"
"This isn't your jurisdiction," Ace reminded her, because Corellian Jedi never left Corellian space, unless they had no other choice—like when Tobi had been snatched by pirates—or Coruscant somehow convinced them they needed someone from their Temple on a mission.
"Tatooine isn't your jurisdiction, either!"
"No, Tobi."
"If you think, for one minute–" Tobi started, a fire lighting in her eyes.
"What I think, Healer Wrentz," Ace interrupted coolly, and she flinched back at the distance they'd shoved between them by using her title and last name, "is that you're forgetting where your duty lies."
Tobi stared at them for a moment, hurt writ clear across her face, before she spun on the spot and hurried away, heading back to the Temple.
Ace closed their eyes and dropped back against the wall of the restaurant. "Kriff."
Vega touched their arm, featherlight, and asked, "Master? Are you okay?"
"No," Ace admitted.
Vega hesitated for a beat, then asked, "Do you want to go after her? Or I can, if–"
"No, Padawan." Ace breathed in, wrapped up the sting of hurt in the breath, and breathed it out. "It's fine. She'll realise I'm right when she calms down." They hoped.
Judging by the look Vega sent them, she wasn't so certain about that.
Ace reached out and tugged lightly on her braid, then pushed off from the wall. "Are you good to go?"
She chewed on her lower lip, glanced the way Tobi had gone, then looked back at Ace and nodded. "Yeah. If you are?"
Ace tried on a smile, suspected it wasn't very convincing, but left it on anyway. "Not the first time I've left her in a snit," they pointed out.
"I guess," Vega agreed, and fell into step with them on the way back to the ship port. "But, Master, she could be a help."
Ace shook their head. "This is lineage business. We don't involve others in that." Just like they didn't call the healers if they could get Feemor to sleep on their own, or they suspected he hadn't taken his medication, but they knew they could get him to take it themselves. Like how Feemor and Wangui and Vega (and Obi-Wan, now) were the only beings in the Temple who knew there was a secret cargo hold in Ace's ship and how to get into it.
(Anakin wasn't lineage, but he also was, and not a single member of their lineage, Ace was certain, would truly believe the boy didn't belong with them, no matter who took him as their padawan in a couple years.)
"She could be lineage, though. If you– I mean, I know why you don't want to join Corellia, but–"
"No," Ace said with a certainty that had been renewed by the news of a future where they had abandoned their master to a lonely grief. "I'm a Coruscanti Jedi, Vega, and I will be until I die. Which means I will always put duty over my heart. No matter how much it hurts." They glanced at her. "Do you understand?"
Vega visibly considered that for a long moment, before admitting, "I don't...know."
Ace nodded. "That's okay." They reached over and flicked her braid. "It's something to work towards."
"Just so long as you don't make me write any essays," she muttered, then cast them a slightly pleading look. "You won't really make me write an essay about respecting you, will you?"
Ace snorted. "Force, no. You'll just go to Feemor and he'll help you insult me in it."
She giggled and ducked her head, like that would really stop Ace from knowing she was laughing at them, and they rolled their eyes and gave another gentle tug on her braid.
Still. They felt...lighter. Easier, with her laughter, the easy warmth of her affection leaking through the training bond they both kept partially shut for her comfort.
Some days, Ace didn't understand why Tobi didn't want a padawan, why she didn't want anything to do with her former master. (Who, unlike Jinn, did not sound like a complete piece of shit.) As much as Ace loved Tobi, as much as they knew she loved them, it held no flame to the warmth of affection and unquestioning acceptance they'd always received through the bonds with their former master and padawan and sister-padawan.
As they stepped into the cockpit, R1 already starting the engines and beeping insults at the droid in the flight control office, Vega asked, "Are you sure we have to stop at Allanteen Six?"
Ace snickered and slid into their seat. "How about I promise we'll spend less time at the ship yard, than I spent with Tobi?"
"How about I call you a liar now and we skip that part," Vega shot back, and R1 whistled an approving noise. "Am I right? Of course I'm right."
"Excuse you."
"The only thing you love more than your not-wife, is the Starlight," Vega added, heartless.
"That–"
[Inaccurate,] R1 interrupted. [Ace also loves you and the master more than the not-wife.]
"Point to R1," Ace called.
[Two points.]
"Fair. Two points to R1."
[Thank you.]
"You're welcome."
"I hate you both," Vega decided, as if Ace couldn't feel the warmth of her gratitude, so strong, no amount of shielding could have kept it from coming through the bond. "R1, you're supposed to be on my side."
[I'm on my own side,] R1 reminded her, and Ace snorted. [And I'm putting you above the not-wife. Therefore, I am on your side.]
"Don't logic at me."
[Logic, logic, logic–]
"Younglings," Ace interrupted in their best serious master voice, which maybe sounded a little too much like a Mace Windu impression to be convincingly serious.
Expectedly, Vega snickered, while R1 began explaining, in great detail, how much more mature they were than Ace.
Ace grinned, and found it far easier than they would have expected it to be, to leave Corellia, and Tobi, behind.
Look for the second half in two days.
.