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Obi-Wan and Anakin had followed that lead for months. They were sure the space station in front of them was the one where the Jedi master was captured in three months ago.
He wasn't nervous. He was just… Hesitant. He still doubted the man's affirmations were true, he desperately wanted to believe they weren't, but his guts twisted at the mere possibility. That another version of himself would still be trapped there… That made him shiver.
Obi-Wan, Anakin and a small group of clones, both from the 501st and the 212th, were currently boarding to the space station. When the airlock opened, the clones flooded inside and dispersed. Their whispered comments crackled in Obi-Wan's ear.
The facility seemed abandoned, for lack of a better word. The lights were off, the last cleaning droid was shut down in a corner, and there was no sign of life whatsoever.
Obi-Wan had to make sure his alter ego was inexistent, or dead for good.
"Sir, we might've found something."
The two generals ran to where the clone was calling them. The trooper gestured toward a now open cell. Inside, a form was slumped against the wall.
Its skin was cut open all over its body ; its thick blood, much darker than Obi-Wan's, almost black, was dripping on the floor ; half the skin on its face was retracted, exposing the white duraplast flesh under. It flinched when Obi-Wan entered the cell to crouch by its side.
Obi-Wan inspected the model number on the android's temple. "RKY… 546."
The android frowned and glanced at him. It took a moment before its eyes widened in recognition.
"What are you… Doing here ?" Its voice was glitchy and cracked.
Obi-Wan's guts twisted.
"I'm guessing your original model was OBI231."
"Maybe."
"Master ?" Anakin walked in behind Obi-Wan. Both androids turned their head to face him. "What's happening ?"
"Anakin…" Obi-Wan looked back at the other android. "… We found what we were here for."
Ben stared at himself in the mirror. Once they all got back on the Negotiator, Obi-Wan insisted for him to get a new body. One he used to have. After three months in bodies that weren't his, he lost the sense of belonging. It was weird being back. Now they were back at the Temple, and he was in his new quarters. He couldn't exactly take Obi-Wan's, now could he ?
He was the one who wanted to have a different name. Obi-Wan was sweet, guilty and all, and proposed lots of alternatives. Ben suited him best, an alias both of them always liked.
He didn't know why Obi-Wan irritated him like that. It was disconcerting having another him that didn't live at all what he lived, sure, but more interesting than annoying. And yet, somehow, the other Jedi always managed to bug him. Ben was sure he didn't do it intentionally, and if he was honest with himself, Obi-Wan did nothing at all most of the time.
The brightest Jedi of the galaxy took three whole months to find himself, because he was incapable of escaping by himself.
Ben clenched his teeth. Now was not the time to spiral. He originally wanted to cut his hair, but just the sight of the blades were making him shudder. The scissors were now in the garbage bin as he tied his hair behind his head. He might make them grow longer.
He recognized himself in the mirror, at least in concept. This was the body he was supposed to have. He also clearly remembered getting damaged beyond repair. The skin on his face that wouldn't go back, the bleeding in his mouth that wouldn't stop, his voice always glitchy, his blind eye. And now, the slate was blank again.
The hardest part was being cut off from the Force. None of the man's android bodies had a midichlorian pump. And now that it was back, Ben wasn't sure how to handle it. He couldn't control it like he used to, couldn't use it or connect with it like before. And the mere thought of staying still to meditate made his legs itch.
You really are a disgrace, Obi-Wan.
"Will you shut up already ?" Ben snapped.
Something the man did must've messed with his programming. He kept hearing echoes, seeing glitching figures in the corner of his vision. He must look crazy.
Aren't you crazy ?
Ben shook his head and changed out of his Jedi robes. They itched his skin for no reason.
They'll know. And once they know, what do you think will happen ? They'll open you up to know what's wrong with you.
Ben stopped, and shook his head. "Anakin wouldn't."
Anakin has his own Obi-Wan. You're just a broken alter ego.
He clenched his jaw.
Deep down, you know. You know they'd leave you or dissect you if you start acting out of place. Cody avoided touching you since you came back, Anakin avoids you and stays with his Obi-Wan, even the other Jedi don't talk to you. You're an anomaly.
"Shut up."
He needed to run for a bit. He couldn't stand not moving for too long.
Coward.
Ben clenched his teeth and slipped through his window. He landed without problems and headed to the lower levels of Coruscant.
Now you're just begging to get hurt.
It was difficultly deniable. He was recognizable, and not wearing his lightsaber. Surely because Obi-Wan had it.
He really stole it all from you, didn't he.
Ben whipped around to face the disappearing figure. People glanced at him, confused.
Shouldn't you do something about it ? To take back what's yours ?
"Stop," he whispered. "Why are you saying that ?"
It'd be easy. You know yourself. He'd never expect you of all people to attack him in the back.
"I'm not doing that."
Don't you want to ?
Ben may be jealous, but he wasn't a monster.
But you did kill Darth Maul. You let hate get to you. You're not better than the ones you seek to destroy.
"That-" Ben bit his tongue and jogged to a more isolated alleyway. People were going to get seriously worried if he kept talking to himself in the middle of the street.
If it wasn't the same, enlighten me. Didn't you kill him out of anger ? Of hate ? Didn't you kill him because he killed your master ? Qui-Gon would be ashamed.
"What do you want ?!" The Jedi tried to keep his focus on the shadow figure, but it stayed in his peripheral vision. He was starting to grow a headache, and rubbed his eyes.
Take back what's yours. Ta̝͘k̼̩ͦę̩͙̒ bͧa͎̦̚ͅc̦͕̼̒́̿̒k w̔ḣ̭a̜͑ͩͨ͟͞t̫ͥ̀͌'̞͔s͇͍̠̜̔ͣ y̦͇͖ͩ̌̈̕o̔͛uȑ͍̝̋ͤ͞͝s͔̯͔̖̒ T̴͇̦̗̪̥́̌̀ͫä̴̮͔̯́̈ͭ̚͘k̳͖̹̟̈́̈̑͟ͅ_͞e̗̙͙ͣ̃͘ b̷̬ͪͪả͍̝͉̞̮ͪ̐ͭ̕͢c̨̟̅ͧ͒ͭͩḵ̨̘͂̑ͬ̈ wh̳̍_̘̼̄͑̽͞a̛̙̻̹͌̽͋͢t'͖̲͝s̢̖ͤ y̢̓o̶̧̮͓͚͗͂u̺͈̅ͣͩ͐̏ͅr̜̹̺̦͐̽ͭ͜s̶͎̘ͬͯ̋̾ T̮̦̭̫̿̆̆a̰̦̺̔ͤ́ͦḱ̠̘ͣͪ̂̿͠͠ě̺̩̬̆̈́ͅ b̵̦͉̫͛̎͑̒ǎ̷͓̯͎ͤͤ͗͢͞cͨk̳̯͈͓ͯ̋ͫ w̵̸̡̭̪̜̄ͣ̈͌̾̎̚͜ͅh̖͊a̙̫͕̅ͤ͒̋͒̔͟t'̧̠̳̟̟̭̞͌̒ͬ̍ͣ́̋s̍ y̜̬̎̌͊o̢̺̙̹͍̍̕u͖͔̱̣̝̲ͩͨ̑̃r͔͇ͭ̂̕s̛̭̮͖ͫ͊͌͌̾̉̚͢͠
Ben clutched his head, the echoes piercing his ears, the static growing. The voices were getting louder now, every one of them a needle in his already overwhelmed processor.
"SHUT UP !"
His head was pounding now. The echoes spiralled more and more, filling his head with sharp words and static. He dug his nails into his hair, and felt blue blood trickle down his cheek. They had to stop. They had to stop. He slumped down against a wall and curled up as tight as he could. He couldn't listen to them, he couldn't hurt Obi-Wan. Or Anakin.
