Chapter Text
“Uh, Commander, I think you need to see this.” Boil’s voice sounded funny in his comm, but not overly apprehensive.
“Alright, Boil, I’m heading your way,” Cody wondered what in the Sith hells his men had got themselves into. They’d won a quick moment of respite, but cut off from the main company and stuck in this village for who knows how long.
He saw some of the men crowding around an open doorway of an abandoned home and made his way over.
What he saw made him freeze in his tracks. Cuffed and sitting on the floor, not defiant, but tension running through him, was a Mandalorian in full beskar, several DC-15s pointed his way.
Everyone was silent, including the man himself, who made no effort to get up but just managed to look incredibly weary.
Cody got a hold of himself. “I’m Commander Cody of the 212th. Who are you and why are you on a separatist battlefield?”
At first it seemed the man wasn’t going to answer, but finally he said, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, but I am not your enemy.” His voice was low and raspy, modulated by his vocoder.
“Take off your helmet, please.” Cody wasn’t going to talk to a real live version of his Prime Jango and not see the man’s face.
“No.”
Some of the men stirred uneasily at that. “It’s part of my…Creed, I do not show my face to others.”
Cody couldn’t hold back his look of surprise. “You’ll forgive our disbelief, but we are raised in the Mandalorian traditions and I’ve never heard of that.”
Sitting up a bit, the Mandalorian said wryly, “Yes, I have heard others say that as well. Let’s just say I’m from a more orthodox tribe.”
At that, Cody took off his helmet, and several of his men followed suit. The prisoner looked at each of them in turn, some of his worry dissipating and he just murmured kriffin Sith hells.
Cody took umbrage at that, to any insult to his men. “You need to explain why you’re here,” he said, more menacingly.
The man rubbed the back of his neck under the helmet, and said quietly, “Sorry, it wasn’t a slight.” He took a breath and said, “I was still hoping it wasn’t true, but-I haven’t heard of any clones or wars like this since-I was eight years old.”
Cody heard him but wasn’t making the connection. Was he saying he was from…the future? “What year is it?” he said abruptly.
“10ABY,” the Mandalorian supplied quickly.
Now Cody knew he was being pranked, though he couldn’t believe his men would do this during a battle. “And what the kark is ABY,” he said in his best Commander voice.
Sighing, the man said, “After the Battle of Yavin. And anything before that is Before the Battle of Yavin.” He looked Cody in the eye. “The Clone wars were around 21 BBY or something.” Then he said something that absolutely knocked Cody for a loop. “Are there still Jedi around in your times?”
Cody felt a thundering in his ears, and pulled himself together. He felt the men turn uneasily behind him and snapped out an order. He would nip this in the bud.
“Alright, that’s enough of a show, I want everyone out and set up perimeters and check abandoned homes for supplies. Waxer, keep trying to reach General Skywalker and let them know we’re here.” He noticed the Mandalorian’s head snap up at the mention of Skywalker.
Cody then marched over and yanked the Mandalorian up, throwing him off balance. “We’re going to have a nice little chat.”
He nosed his blaster in the man’s back and roughly took him through a back door outside to some crates. “Sit.”
Gritting his teeth, he got right in the Mandalorian’s face and said tightly, “What the KARK do you mean, still have Jedi?”
The Mandalorian didn’t even flinch or show any sign of panic. “In my time…well, there’s only one or two left. They were, um..” and here he stirred around a bit, “hunted down. Killed off.” He went on, letting Cody digest that.
“You have to understand, I-my Tribe, was just trying to stay alive. None of this stuff actually affected us in the Outer Rim, so we didn’t really know. But I think it was…your people. Like, the Clones.”
The punch to the gut almost made Cody black out. Himself, the Clones, kill the Jedi? It was so absurd and yet so cruel, he wanted to smash the visor now looking at him with…was that sympathy?
“No. Kriffin. Way.” He jabbed a gloved finger on the man’s chest plate.
“General Kenobi, our General, he-he…the esteem and yes love, the men have for him. They would. Never.” He hissed, breathing hard.
And yet the Mandalorian stayed still, not refuting or arguing. He just seemed to look at Cody…with sad understanding.
“Let me try and remember,” the man finally said.
Din thought hard. Kriff, what had Luke been telling him about the war when all he had wanted to do was look into those eyes, watch that tantalizing mouth?
“My Jedi, he said-“
“YOUR Jedi?” Cody wheeled over him, fist raised.
Now that was a slip up. “I mean, the Jedi who is raising my son, he-is sort of the last one, and he’s trying to restart a new Jedi Order. And I think I remember something about a brain chip?”
Din looked at the Commander in front of him, so much coiled energy and intensity flowing off the man. Kark, he had always envisioned the clones as sort of mindless droid people, but Din could not remember meeting someone more dynamic, more human. The armour made him twitchy though-his first thought was he had fallen into a nest of Imps, but their faces had somehow soothed him that wasn’t the case. He was as tall as Din, but heavier muscled in his upper body. He wore more armor than Din did, and every movement he made spoke of sheer, unbridled power, held in check by what looked like an incredible amount of control.
Now the man was watching him, calculating if what he believed what he was saying. Din wished he knew more about the whole war time, but he tried to transmit through his will and make him understand every word he told this Commander was true.
Finally making a decision, the Commander flipped on his comm and faced away from Din. “Wolffe?” He paused for a second. “I have a…situation,” and he paused while the other person spoke. “No, this is something…completely different. This is going to sound crazy but can you grab Buir and have him check for something-a something in your head? Very privately, possibly a deep scan. Then both of you have a medic verify? I don’t need to to tell you this is strictly between us, Vod.”
“Contact me immediately either way.”
The Commander swung around to his prisoner. “So you believe me,” the man said in his low voice.
“Enough to not take any chances,” the Commander said tightly. “This is actually a scenario I have run as a possibility before.”
The Commander picked up another crate and dragged it nearer to Din. “How about you start at the beginning, Verd’ika.” He smiled wolfishly.
So Din told him of the end of the war, the rise of the Imperials. The decimation of entire planets in its never ending demand for raw resources, even as far as the Purge of Mandalore. It’s twenty year dominion over the galaxy until the rebellion finally brought it down, but now the New Republic still in its infancy and remnants of Imps resurfacing on the Outer Rim.
Then he told of himself, a foundling raised by Mandalorians, a respected and somewhat famous bounty hunter who adopted a force wielding child. His quest to find its kind while fighting off Imperials, other bounty hunters and the usual beskar stealers. How his child sent a call through the galaxy and it was answered by Luke Skywalker. A Jedi, possibly the last. And finally, how he helped the Jetii by hunting out artifacts to assist in finding knowledge, anything to help bring the Order back. Which is how he found himself here, after some weird bantha Jetii osik object hurled him back in time.
Cody listened to this tale with conflicting thoughts, staggered and heartsick that so many of his brothers had died only to see the GAR lose in the end to some kind of bigger and more evil threat, an Empire who created a planet killer. An engineered war. That the Jedi died, by their hands. And he could barely let himself think about Kenobi but-.
He was interrupted by his comm.
“Yes, Wolffe. I see. We both know what it is, those kriffin Kamino hut’tuun. Once I get off this rock we’ll schedule a call, but let’s keep it between us and Buir for now. Thanks.”
“Buir?” The Mandalorian questioned.
“A Jedi general, one of the best. He adopted the entire 104th Battalion, so they call him Buir.”
The prisoner digested this information quietly, unaware that the Jedi were so close to their troops.
“I thought Jedi in these times couldn’t form attachments.”
The words brought Cody up short, and he glared at the Mandalorian as though he was mocking him. His the body language was completely sincere though, no taunting or ridicule visible.
“-Hmm, not that it’s any of your business, but several uh- troops may have close personal friends among the- uh-Jedi.” Cody’s face flushed a bit, but he was proud his voice didn’t quaver.
The Mandarin only says, “Ahh.” He raised his cuffed gloves, stretching out his arms. He went on inquiringly. “Oh, do you know someone named Ahsoka? I’ve met her, but she says she’s not a real Jedi.”
Cody didn’t know if he could take any more karking drabble out of the prisoner’s mouth. Clenching his teeth, he ground out, “She’s the fourteen year old Padawan of General Skywalker, and also adopted by other Battalions. Much loved.”
“Oh. Well, in my time she’s alone, and seems very sad. Has that Jedi mask of serenity, though. The prisoner tilted his helmet up like he’s thinking.
“I’m trying to remember anything that will not let this uh, timeline kriff things up so bad. I heard that someone named Anakin um, falls and becomes Darth Vadar. Who is a Sith Lord. And his master is the Chancellor.”
Honestly, Cody cannot take another blow like this. “Are you telling me that the Chancellor in the Senate is a Sith Lord? And Skywalker his apprentice?”
More to himself than the Mandalorian, he mutters, “I knew it, karking crazy Jedi, no discipline, no control…”
Suddenly the Mandalorian looks at him. “Do you have any water? It was a long slog to get here.” Din is tired, hot and dusty. He walked forever through the scrub lands, seemingly deserted until he heard the sounds of a battle. He would kill for a drink.
Cody eyes him a second, then looks inside the open doorway. “Can we get some water over here, and what’s the latest on our position” he calls out, his easy air of command radiating off him.
He watches as the prisoner lifts up the bottom of his helmet and spies a stubbled beard, then gets mesmerized by the liquid going down his throat as the man lifted his chin up higher to drink.
Everything about the Mandalorian screams ‘competence’, from his weapons and armour to his well worn kute and calm demeanor under what must be stressful circumstances. Cody finds himself liking the man in spite of his revelations of the future. Even though they are horrific and hard to hear.
He realizes he needs to share this information in case they aren’t rescued or it is somehow lost. He waivers on contacting Kenobi during a battle, he knows the man fights like ten demons and doesn’t want to interrupt in case he put the man in danger. Finally he flips up the comm again.
“General Kenobi, Sir, is this a bad time?”
The Mandalorian can hear a laughing posh accent, almost teasing. “Commander, this is a wonderful time, we are taking a short rest after slamming the East flank.”
“That’s very good news, Sir, and I have a, situation that I know you will want to see. As soon as possible. Like, very quickly.”
“Commander, you sound rather, riled up.” Again the voice, almost purring through the comm.
Stiffly, Cody decided to be more direct, aware of the mandalorian’s visor looking at him interestingly.
“As it happens, Sir,” he puts a hard emphasis on it, “I’m with a prisoner. Who says he. Is from the. Future.” He doesn’t glance over at the Mandalorian. “And he has information that YOU,” he stresses, “will be extremely interested in.”
At that, the General becomes all business. “Send me your coordinates and I will find a way over as soon as I can. Thank you, Commander.”
Relieved, Cody snaps off the connection, taps over the location and eyes the man. The Mandalorian doesn’t move but eventually says, “Now that sounded like a personal friend Jedi.”
Reddening at the remark, the Commander takes the high ground and ignores him. They wait in silence for a bit, then as a sort of peace offering Din gently asks, “Do you know Boba Fett?”
He just won’t stop with the crazy, Cody thinks. Still not looking at him, he sighs. “Yes, I know him but Jango, his father, wouldn’t let him around us much. Very protective of his kid.” He turns to Din. “Little karking osik ad’ika, though, he tried to get be closer with us, but…” He doesn’t finish that thought.
Thankfully, Cody hears the sound of a speeder racing towards them, and knows his men will sort things out if it isn’t General Kenobi. Suddenly his Jed- the General is right there, giving Cody a quick side glance as if asking see what you get up to when I’m not around?, and then turns to the Mandalorian, silently assessing him, noticing the pure beskar armor.
“Hello, there. I’m General Kenobi, 212th Battalion. Commander Cody here says you think you are from…” he hesitates. “The future?”