Dooku had wanted to see Obi-Wan married and mated fifteen years ago. The pressure's only been mounting since, and especially once it became clear that Anakin was never going to be a suitable heir to the family business. If only Obi-Wan actually liked alphas.

As if Cody's infamously gay ass is likely to find a partner here, surrounded by the most heteronormative people the Core has to offer.

That hand shifts again until it's fully palming his ass and Cody leans in further until he can brush a heated kiss under his ear. "I think we can arrange that."

No new problems is something Helix will gladly take. Obi-Wan’s cloak is still laid out across it and Rex wraps himself up in the worn brown fabric before laying down. Rex is aware that he should forgive the other man, for his own sake if nothing else, even if their friendship never fully goes back to the way that it was, but he struggles to feel charitable towards a man that keeps trying to commiserate with him over Obi-Wan's disappearance when he's directly responsible for it and Obi-Wan is still missing. There is a very big difference indeed between harm and hurt." Helix, perhaps, one day, had they been afforded more time.

Dooku had not been able to stand against his master in the boy's—Qui-Gon's boy's—defense.

"Have you been keeping an eye on Helix?"

"As much as he'll let us," Waxer answers, frowning. "He's been avoiding everyone but Bones lately, and this doesn't exactly feel like the best time to tell him that we all know that he's in love with our partner, too. We'll keep trying to bring him into the fold, though."

"Good."

Cody forces a smile for Rex, this time. "How are you holding up, Rex'ika?"

"I'm alright, Codes," Rex tells him, and mostly means it. Sort of means it.

Every biometric he has is carefully monitored to the point of near obsession, keeping him as healthy as possible. He tries not to think about why that would be.

"Don't talk like that!" It's the first time Waxer’s spoken practically since this whole thing started, and the words come clear and sharp like the crack of a whip. Everyone falls silent, all eyes turning to the lieutenant, and Waxer looks off to the side and fists his hands at his sides. "There's no reason to think he's—" Waxer cuts off, closing his eyes and letting out a shaky breath when Boil reaches over to squeeze his shoulder. "Don't talk like that. He wouldn't, if any of us were missing."

But he’s on Coruscant. He’s home. He was just supposed to be attending a meeting. A smack on the wrist, he’d assured them when he left, blue eyes sparking with a little bit of amusement. The meeting could have just gone late, or he could’ve gotten distracted researching something in the archives and lost track of time—Force knew either of those things were likely. Maybe he was even finally getting some rest without having to be prodded to do so. Point being, there could be any number of reasons for Obi-Wan missing a check-in, and he’d only missed two.  Only, Obi-Wan doesn’t miss check-ins, not unless shit’s gone sideways. Especially not now. He knows that they worry, about him and about the [redacted], and for all that he still takes risks they wish he wouldn’t, he does try not to scare them if he thinks he can help it. Even if he can’t comm. them, he’s been good lately about at least sending a message.  It’s now been twenty-four hours of radio silence.