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Jedi Master Anakin Naberrie, formerly Darth Vader, formerly Anakin Skywalker, felt truly free for the first time in his life, despite residing in the Jedi Temple once more and still being confined to his helmet. The rest of the torture suit was gone, replaced with dark brown robes and a much lighter cape. The helmet was upgraded so he actually saw in color and had the full range of motion. Plus, the sharp points anchoring the mask to his face and the plastoid brace around his neck had been removed. Truly, all that remained of his slavery to Sidious were the respirator and vocoder. The Sith and his Master were being watched at all times by a team of Shadows, and any move they made would be noticed.
He couldn't be happier.
Almost. His wife and children were still beyond his reach, but he was content to make the galaxy a place good enough that they wouldn't have to toil and sacrifice daily to do the same. It took living to the ripe old age of forty-six, dying, and waking up at the site of his greatest sin twenty-five years before it would happen to learn to let things go, but he honestly couldn't complain.
He was seeing a mind healer. Something which, admittedly, had he done as a young man he would not have Fallen. He still struggled to release his emotions into the Force, which led to implementing Dark techniques on Light principles, which in turn led to him walking the line between the two. It turned out to be less of a knife-edge and more like a suspension bridge. He learned then that his Force Aura, strong enough even for Nulls to pick up on, had changed from the deep, lonely cold of the void of space to more akin to sitting in front of a campfire with a close friend, warm and comforting.
Which is exactly what a captured Rebel had explained working with Luke was like.
And if that didn't fill him with enough joy for all of Coruscant to share...
And so he found the perfect motivator; he would live his life in a way comparable to his precious son. In doing so he found even his intimidating stature and mask did not prevent him from gaining actual friends in this new timeline. The two closest (and least likely) were future Councilors Mace Windu and Shaak Ti. Both had figured out, independently, more or less that he was a reformed darksider, and he was pleasantly surprised when they accepted and forgave him for it. Even when they learned of the full magnitude of his deeds.
It was with these two, on a warm Coruscant afternoon, when his interest was piqued in a certain Initiate. Shaak was leaning on the windowsill in the hall, as Anakin stood with his metal thumbs in his belt and Mace rubbed his chin in thought.
"I don't know," the bald man said. "I feel like making even a nominal understanding of Jar'Kai mandatory is a bit overkill."
Anakin hummed. "All I will contribute is that both of my apprentices favored it. I knew enough to teach them adequately, but adequate has never been my preferred state."
"Perfectionist," Shaak accused, her lips twitching playfully.
Anakin's snippy retort was cut off by a small voice asking, "Excuse me, Masters?"
The three Jedi turned to see a scrawny Initiate, barely up to Anakin's waist, who had a head of fluffy red hair and almost looked like-
"Initiate Kenobi," Mace intoned, his voice as soothing as it could get. It wasn't much, but Anakin appreciated the effort.
"Master Windu," the young Obi-Wan returned, his lack of confidence oozing into the Force like a festering wound. Anakin grimaced under his bucket.
"I was wondering- you see, it's nearly my thirteenth birthday, and I haven't been Chosen yet, and I wanted to know if, well-" he took a deep breath. "Are any of you looking for a Padawan? Because I know I'm meant to be a Knight..."
"No, sorry, I'm taking a break from teaching."
"I have a Padawan currently."
"My mind healer has forbidden it."
"Oh," he murmured, looking even smaller somehow. "My apologies for wasting your time, Masters."
He turned to leave. "Initiate Kenobi?" Anakin rumbled, cocking his head slightly.
Obi-Wan met his gaze as well as he could through the charcoal lenses. "You haven't gotten your Corps assignment yet, have you?"
"I have, actually," he said, shame coloring his tone as his eyes moved to the floor. "AgriCorps."
Anakin interrupted Mace, who he knew was about to insert his foot directly down his throat with some insensitive remark about how there was no shame in farming.
"AgriCorps?" he asked, incredulous. "Surely you would be more suited to the EduCorps."
"He's right," Shaak confirmed. "I've seen you in the archives. You read as religiously as this one breathes," she said, pointing a thumb at Anakin. Obi-Wan flushed under the praise, but only mumbled, "Well, that's where I'm going."
"You may go, Initiate, if you wish," the former Sith said. He crossed his arms over his chest in discontent as his past (future?) Master did his best not to sprint away.
There was a moment of silence before Mace said, "I thought Initiates weren't supposed to get their Corps assignments until after their thirteenth birthday."
"They're not," Shaak answered, similarly peeved. "Didn't you say he was your Master? That he was trained by Qui-Gon Jinn?"
"I did. He was."
"So what's different?" Mace asked, his signature scowl taking its place on his face.
Anakin didn't know. But more importantly, "Why the AgriCorps? Why so soon?"
-----
By the time Anakin's request to the Council of Reassignment had been processed, Obi-Wan was already back in the Temple, proudly showing off his new Padawan braid. Anakin reluctantly shelved the inquiry, apologizing to the overworked clerks with homemade tiingilar, using Shaak as a taste tester/spice meter.
Now that Kenobi had stumbled back into his life, however, he wasn't going to stand idly by. He would watch the young Padawan's career with great interest. Had his mind healer not banned him from teaching an apprentice until he could prove to be reliably healthy, he truly would have taken the boy on himself. So, he elected to settle for standing by if the boy ever needed some external advice.
"I want you to know, young one," he once said, kneeling before the boy in the hallway. "Were I in a fitter state, I would have taken you on. If you ever need an ear outside your Master, and I am available, my door is open to you."
And life went on as Anakin allowed his suspicions to fade, more focused as he was persuading the High Council to allow him to teach the Dark in a way that would not make it the boogeyman beneath the bed.
Until six months later, when Qui-Gon Jinn returned from a mission with an injured Master Tahl and no Padawan to be seen.
-----
Anakin stormed down the hallway, feeling more like Vader than he had since he'd arrived. His cape followed him, an intimidating shadow to a terrifying man. Padawans and Knights alike leapt out of his way as he passed, in awe at the depth of his righteous fury.
When he opened the Council Chamber doors, he pushed them with so much Force that the hinges squeaked and groaned, bent irreparably out of shape as the mechanisms inside were rent by Anakin's anger.
The Masters inside stared at him, startled, and he hissed, "Where. Is. Kenobi."
"Read Qui-Gon's report, have you?" Yoda asked. Anakin hadn't. He hadn't needed to, or so he thought. Maybe he should've done that.
"Regardless, that has not changed my question," he growled. "And why has a retrieval team not already been formed? Is one of our Padawans not out there alone?"
"He left the Order," said Master Dapatian, his own vocoder disguising any color in his voice. "Master Jinn returned with his lightsaber, even."
There was a sharp sound, causing everyone in the room to jump in their seats. Anakin suddenly realized the identical cracks on each and every window in the room were his doing. He allowed his respirator to cycle several times before responding. "You refer to the boy who went from Master to Master in order to be accepted as a Padawan, yes?" he asked, his voice dripping with the contempt he had once reserved for Orson Krennic. "That Kenobi? You really think he just up and left."
"That...does seem odd, doesn't it?" asked Master Tyvokka. "Much of Master Jinn's Melida/Daan report is suspect, I feel."
Anakin turned to leave, his cape snapping in his wake. He had everything he needed now.
"Going, where are you?"
"I am going to bring Obi-Wan Kenobi back to the Jedi Temple," he said. He turned once more to face the Masters. "I am going to clean up whatever mess Jinn created. And when I return, you can expect a formal inquest into his actions."
He took a sharp step forward. "I have been a part of many cultures in my life, and the only one where abandoning children is acceptable is Darth Sidious' bastardization of the Sith Code."
The respirator filled the room. Anakin soothed the black hole in his heart by stoking the fire of determination. "I will take my leave now, Masters," he said, spitting the word like it had personally wronged him. "Unless there are objections?"
He left before they could say anything.
-----
The shooting had stopped. Nield looked at Obi-Wan, his eyes filled with trepidation, before slowly standing to peer over the lip of the trench to see why. His face slackened with shock as he rapidly gestured for Obi-Wan to join him. When he did, he couldn't help but copy his friend.
There, in all his glory, stood Jedi Master Anakin Naberrie, his palm outstretched at scores of blaster bolts, suspended in the air like glowing, red insects. They cast him in stark relief, his famous cape appearing like a portal to the void of space, rippling in the wind. Before their very eyes, they rotated 180 degrees around and fired back at their senders with a flick of Naberrie's wrist. The masked Jedi stared at his work for a few seconds, his respirator cycling back to normal after it had sped up from the effort. The shadows on the floor seemed to lighten as it did.
The massive man turned to greet the boys as they stared at him in awe.
"M-M-M-Master Naberrie," Obi-Wan stammered, bleeding confusion into the Force. "What are you doing here?"
"Young Kenobi," he greeted, although Master Naberrie tended not to greet people as much as acknowledge their existence. "And friend," he said, aiming his intimidating mask briefly at Nield. "I've come to complete the Jedi's mission here on Melida/Daan. By the end of my time here, there will be lasting peace."
His tone brokered no argument. On Nield's face was something like hope. "Forgive me, Master Naberrie, was it? You're just one man. That was impressive, sure, but how do you plan to actually win this thing?"
"That's just it," he said. "I'm not 'just one man.'"
Before Obi-Wan could ask what that meant, the Master's wrist comm went off. "One second, boys, if you would."
Nield scurried off to tell Cerasi and the others of this new development while Master Naberrie took his call, speaking heartily in a tongue Obi-Wan thought he recognized but couldn't actually place.
"And now, young Kenobi, we must talk about you," he said, taking a seat on a large chunk of displaced concrete.
"Yes, Master Naberrie," he mumbled, knowing what this was about. This was the Jedi Council's representative, come to formally rebuke him again. "I've resigned from the Jedi Order; I know I won't be coming back."
Obi-Wan's shields were rock-solid. They had to be in a horrid warzone like this. He still flinched when the Jedi Master's rage surged forth. He trembled. "M-Master?" he asked, hesitantly.
"I...apologize, Padawan Kenobi. I am not angry at you," he assured. "There's a saying in the outer rim," he said, his body language grim. "If you're going to attack a little Jedi, make sure the big one is dead."
He gently reached out and grasped Obi-Wan's chin so he could meet his gaze. "Any other Master would have grabbed you and taken you with them, or, if circumstances really were that dire, come back for you as soon as possible. When my first Padawan was just a little older than you are now, we were placed into a similar situation, and I nearly Fell trying to get her back."
He released Obi-Wan's face. "Some...acquaintances of mine will be arriving shortly, both to end the war and form a new planetary charter. Should you wish to stay here, join me in returning to the Order, or even going with them, is up to you. I will not force you to do anything, but you should know that if you return with me, I would be honored to take you on as my own Padawan Learner."
There was a beat of still silence, as if all of Melida/Daan was holding its breath.
"But... Your mind healer!" Obi-Wan exclaimed. Master Naberrie squeezed his shoulder. "Leave that to me. If you really want it, I will make it work," he rumbled. "If you want to seek another Master, that can also be arranged."
Obi-Wan was floored. "But...why?" he asked, his incredulity twisting his face. "Why me? If you wanted an apprentice there are whole clans of Initiates waiting to be picked!"
Master Naberrie nodded slowly. "Yes," he said. "There are. But none of them have your iron determination or strength of will. You have a spine of beskar, young Kenobi, something many in the galaxy are greatly lacking. Did you not stand up to your incompetent Master to follow the will of the Force?"
Obi-Wan flushed under the praise. "In truth, Obi-Wan, I was surprised you remained un-Chosen as long as you did. Myself, as well as Masters Windu and Ti, all agree your early reassignment is suspect. There will be quite the inquiry into that and many other matters relating to your apprenticeship with Master Jinn."
Obi-Wan nodded. "Can I think about it?" he asked.
"You have all the time in the galaxy," the Master said, as the roar of a starship's engines approached. "Especially now that my, ah, acquaintances have arrived."
-----
Mandalorians. Kriffing Mandalorians. How did Master Naberrie even know Mandalorians? Let alone that they didn't want to automatically skewer him (and Obi-Wan, for that matter). The man in question was currently mediating between two parties. What, exactly, was happening was being explained to him and the other Young by a blonde girl in lilac armor around his age, who had introduced herself as Satine.
"Buir, that means my parent, is currently arguing with Fett about his right to govern Mandalore in Fett's absence, since he's technically the Mand'alor, that is, the king, even though Fett doesn't have the Dha'kad, which is kind of like your jetii'kad, I mean your laser sword-"
For someone who was (kind of) the heir to all of Mandalore, she was very much still working on the art of speaking. He liked the timbre of her voice, though. It made him feel stable.
"Enough!" Master Naberrie finally shouted. "You are both the legal rulers of Mandalore, and you can both rule Mandalore cooperatively later on. Right now, need I remind you that ade cuyii vencuyot?
Obi-Wan felt a burst of warm surprise from Satine as Fett said, "Fine. Sha'kajir?" while extending a hand towards her father (Booier? Bweer? Obi-Wan's Mando'a wasn't up to snuff just yet). For all that Master Naberrie had come to end the war on Melida/Daan, he sure was doing a great job of bringing peace to Mandalore.
-----
War was hell, and Anakin was deeply troubled that all these children, and Obi-Wan in particular, had to fight in it. He mentally marked down the idea of encouraging the Council to make mind healing mandatory for all Jedi coming back from potentially traumatic missions. No wonder his master was so emotionally constipated. If this is what his apprenticeship was like, it was amazing that he went his whole life without Falling. Go figure Anakin's own apprenticeship was so chaotic, Obi-Wan was probably set up for failure.
He didn't know if this mission had happened the last time around and kicked himself for not asking his Obi-Wan about his tutelage under Jinn in detail. (Not too much, his therapist had warned him of the destructive power of self-flagellation. It was a hard habit to break, but...)
Anakin turned to watch the sunset. Behind him, the leaders of the Melida and the Daan were being prisoner-marched into the crumbling city hall of Zehava as Fett, both Kryzes and the leaders of the Young assembled to his front. There was peace on this hellish rock, finally. Only one thing left to go.
-----
"Young Kenobi, Young Kryze," Anakin rumbled, causing both teens to jump slightly in surprise, separating comically far, considering their faces had been mere inches apart before he arrived. He tucked his thumbs into his belt, radiating amusement into the Force. "Alor'ika, would you mind if I spoke to your boyfriend for a moment?" He asked, delighting in the sheer magnitude they were able to blush. She stood and mumbled something about how she'd see Obi-Wan later, striding off to find her buir.
As soon as they were alone, the boy stammered, "I'm not attached. Or Fallen. I promise, we're just-" Anakin cut him off with a raised hand.
"Young one," he said, taking note of how much the war had affected the boy with a hollow sadness emerging in his gut. "I do not care for the attachment rule. It is an outdated relic that leaves us vulnerable to outside influence and does not prevent Falls, but promotes them." He leaned forward slightly so as to look Obi-Wan in the eyes. "I've come to ask you if you have thought on my offer."
Obi-Wan stared in the direction Satine had scurried off in, saying lowly, "If I go with you, I'll never see them again."
It was spoken like a fact, a truth, an unwavering law of the universe that Jedi and non-Jedi didn't mix. Because that would be attachment, something that the current interpretation of the Code did not allow. Anakin fought down a surge of malignant anger before he answered.
"Untrue," he said, watching as the boy's gaze snapped to his like he had said that the planet was flat. "Which brings me to another point, if you do elect to become my Padawan Learner you will be taught unconventionally, including things others may call heretical or even dangerous. The other side to this is that you will be allowed to continue correspondence with any of your peers in the Young and with Kryze."
Softer, "How are the Jedi meant to be compassionate if we do not love the masses, love our friends, our partners, ourselves? Are we so detached we flee from the galaxy?"
Obi-Wan was looking at him as if he'd rocked his entire worldview, which, to be fair, he probably had.
"Do you accept?"
-----
Anakin was finally working through that ball of angst that he'd shoved away when he first arrived on Melida/Daan. He was still musing on it and what parts he wanted to bring to his mind healer when he was walking down the ramp of his borrowed shuttle, new Padawan in tow.
"All I'm saying is that he chose to leave the Order of his own accord," Qui-Gon Jinn said at Mace's scowling face.
They were crechemates, Anakin's memory supplied, before he felt Obi-Wan stiffen in distress, his violent response ricocheting across their fledgling bond.
"Do you have any desire to see or speak to Jinn at this time?" he thought in the boy's general direction. He got a wall of NOPE in response. His first order of business would be teaching him to shield their bond properly.
Anakin set a gentle hand on his charge's shoulder to guide him discreetly away to get his injuries (of all sorts) looked at, but unfortunately...
"Ah, they're back," came the voice that Anakin was about three seconds from silencing. Permanently. He was proud of himself for keeping Vader leashed throughout the whole campaign, but this might be the thing to set him loose.
"Obi-Wan," Jinn said, and Anakin froze, allowing his respirator to run. He couldn't afford to lose control now. He was so close. He moved to shield the boy with his body, but ever dependable Kenobi just had to as a meek, "Yes, Master Jinn?"
"You did leave the Order, yes, of your own voli-" His voice was cut off when he was shoved across the hangar.
"I find your line of questions disturbing," Vader hissed, turning to stare at the hapless Jedi.
"Anakin!" Mace barked, and, obligingly, the former Sith sighed. "You have my apologies, Master Jinn," Anakin rumbled, lying through his teeth. Turning to his friend, he continued, "I'm afraid I must take Padawan Kenobi to the Halls. Warzones are not kind to children."
"And then the mind healer," Mace said, raising a disapproving eyebrow. "And then the mind healer," Anakin agreed. "He is lucky I chose not to choke him. No one lays a hand, or even a word, on my Padawan and gets away with it."
Mace gaped like a fish.
He shot Obi-Wan a look before jerking his head in the direction of the Healers. Despite Jinn's incompetence and subsequent interference, Anakin thought everything was going to be okay. Obi-Wan would be okay. If he had his way, he would be even greater than he had been the first time around.