#187th battalion | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prfctparis · 2 years ago

Text

Operation: Get the Corrie Guards Some Supplies

AO3 Link

summary: Zariza learns that the Coruscant Guard gets less supplies than their siblings who are out at the front lines. She decides to do something about it.

a/n: i started this two years ago & i’m only just now finishing it. anyway – have more my star wars au and my oc zariza :)

"What in the karking sith-hells do you mean you don't have enough supplies to help your siblings?" Zariza incredulously asks. She's following the clone medic around, using the hours of not having padawan classes as time to get to know some of the clones better – more specifically, the Corries, as she's heard some of the 187th guys call them – like she has been doing more and more whenever on leave.

It honestly started out as bringing a 'Sorry You Guys Had to Arrest Me and My Friends and then Witness Me Yell at My Master' apology gift (AKA multiple containers of the best candy and snacks she could find) a few months ago. Then gradually, she began to stop by and check on them for no other reason than the fact that she wanted to – just for the heck of it. Now she almost knows them as well as she does the men in her and Master Mace's battalion. Sometimes Bitty tags along or Elvira (they both came with her to bring the apology gift, seeing as they also got arrested), or sometimes even her other friend Ashlee.

Commander Fox mostly just tolerates her, where as Stone and Thorn have let her follow them around when they aren't on duty. Or even when they are, and they are positive no one will get in trouble for it. Once in a while Fox lets her sit in his office and meditate, which is nice. She's pretty sure it also helps him relax during the extremely stressful days but he isn't willing to admit it, and Zariza isn't about to make him.

More often than not, though, Zariza can be found greeting the shinies if there are any, helping the medics (or anyone, really) with minuscule tasks, and happily spending time with the men off duty. There are all stoic and extremely professional when on the job (which, yeah, is most of the time, and that's a little concerning but also a thought for a other time), but Zariza has helped them have fun when not working by bringing a few games that they can easily hide if and when necessary.

Unfortunately, today none of her friends tagged along for various reasons she can't be bothered to remember at the moment, and now she is on her way with Pat, one of the medics, to get the medical supplies that have arrived.

Which brings them to their current conversation.

The fact that the Corrie Guards don't get as many supplies as the others is almost incomprehensible in her mind. It's also news that immediately gets her riled up.

Pat gives her look – or, she assumes they do. Their helmet is currently on, but the way it tilts gives her some idea of the expression they're wearing. "I thought Jedi didn't cuss?" they ask, instead of replying to her question.

Zariza pauses and then shrugs. "Some do, most don't. Anakin was a bad influence about it growing up, and honestly Master Mace isn't much better. He likes to act like he is, though.”

The medic hums, sounding genuinely interested in that information.

Maybe they are trying to derail the topic, get her mind off of the absurd news of the Guard medics not getting enough supplies to do their jobs. It doesn't work. "But Pat," she stresses, "The medical supplies! You're apart of the GAR, right? They have to give you enough!"

"Technically, they don't have to do anything for us," Pat tells her. They refrain from saying that the clones are all property. Last time someone did that around the little Jedi, she went on a tangent about living sentients and slaves and then meditated in Fox's office long past night fall; General Windu had to come get her.

(Although, witnessing Fox step into his office only to step back out half a second later with extreme confusion on his face was priceless. Stone has a holopic.)

"The Senate believes that because we are stationed on Coruscant, that we need less supplies than our vod’e fighting on the front lines," Pat explains more. "They think it's safer, or something along those lines."

"The Senate doesn't know shit." She pauses, thinking. "...Senator Amidala excluded."

Pat can't help the snort that leaves their mouth.

"Do you at least try to ask for more?" Zariza then asks.

"Yes."

She grunts, clearly upset. "That's not fair."

"Life typically isn't. War, even more so."

Zariza frowns to herself. "Trust me, I know that." The two of them stop, and Pat opens the door they are now in front of. Inside, the containers of the medical supplies, along with everything else the Guard needs regular shipments of, are stacked on top of each other. At first glance, it looks as though there should be enough for the Corries. But she knows better now. "I just wish there was something I could do."

Pat lands a hand on her shoulder. "Kid, just knowing you want to help is more than we can ask for."

She looks at them, frown still in place. "Don't take this the wrong way, but that's kinda pitiful."

They heave a sigh, squeezing her shoulder once before letting it fall. "...Yeah. I know." They shake their head and finally step inside the room. "Come on, now. Let's get everything back to the medbay. I don't want the head medic on our shebs’e for being slow."

+++

Zariza barges into the 187th barracks without any preamble. It happens so suddenly that a few of the men who had been previously relaxing startle into sitting positions, or just down right fall off of their bunks.

Her steps falter and she winces. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

One of them groans from the floor. "It's alright, Command'ika."

Spite walks over to her. "What's got you in a hurry?" he asks, raising an eyebrow when Zariza continues to speed walk through the bunks. He follows her immediately.

"Where's Bitty?" she asks instead of answering.

Spite sighs quietly. "If this is going to get either of you arrested again–."

"No illegal podracing in the lower levels, I promise," she interrupts. "I was just curious about what Anakin saw in it. Never meant to get in trouble."

"Excuse me for having a hard time believing that, sir," Spite says as respectfully as he can.

She shrugs, head swiveling as she looks for the clones' youngest in the 187th. "You probably have a right not to." She huffs, stopping in her tracks. "Seriously, where is he?" Spinning on her heel, she looks up at him with her hands on her hips.

Spite raises an eyebrow again.

"Near the back with Mayhem," one of the soldiers on a nearby bunk says.

Zariza beams. "Thank you, Mak!"

Mak chuckles as she hurries over to the other clones, shrugging at Spite when he sends him an unimpressed look. "What, vod? Afraid this will be the day you lose the bet?"

Spite shakes his head. "It's not happening until the end of the war, I promise you."

"You're both full of osik! It's not happening at all. They're just friends."

"Any day now, I say. They're spending more and more time together."

"Thank you, Exx!" Mak exclaims.

The shiny who spoke right before Exx goes to speak again, but Spite subtly signs for them to pause the conversation as the two teenagers get close. The two walk side by side, their pace fast but not as hurried as Zariza had been minutes earlier. It's not long at all until their conversation can be heard by Spite and the others nearby.

"—just saying that anytime we go out, something chaotic happens. First the incident with that Pantoran's pet, then we got lost in a different district, and then we got arrested–."

"Okay, okay, I get it! But we're just going to the Temple and the Room of a Thousand fountains to meet up with some other padawans. Chaos free!"

When she grins reassuringly, the (biologically) sixteen year old boy pins her with the most skeptical expression Spite has ever seen on him. "You're planning something," he states after a second.

Zariza relents, "Maybe, but–."

"Oh, my gods–."

The two walk by, hardly noticing them, and belatedly shout a goodbye at the barrack's door before it closes completely.

Mak smiles. It's good to see the kids happy; the war has been beating all of their shebs’e as of late, and the death of Commander Ponds lowered all of the kids' morales – Zariza, Bitty, and a lot the shinies. Thankfully, they have been acting more like themselves as the weeks go by.

"Ponds would love to see them hanging out so much," Exx says.

Mak hums in agreement.

"Way to bring down the mood," someone om a different bunk close by mumbles bitterly.

"Guys," Spite tiredly calls out before an argument can break out. "Not tonight. Please."

It's only quiet for a moment.

One of the newer shinies, either brave or stupid, cautiously asks, "...So, is now the time to ask why Bitty ages normally?"

Spite can only sigh.

+++

Mace Windu and Obi-Wan Kenobi are walking through the halls as they converse about mundane things, when they witness Mace's padawan learner, the teen clone, Obi-Wan's padawan learner as well as his grandpadawan, and then Plo's padawan all run by and turn down the nearest corner. The two Masters Jedi share a quick glance before following their path at a much calmer yet still quick pace. They turn the corner just in time to see the five teens hurry into the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

"Did either of you see Ahsoka come this way?" Anakin's voice meet their ears as he hurries to them, slightly out of breath and a bit bewildered. He stops on the other side of Obi-Wan. "Zari, Bitty, Pytir, and Elvira just ran by and dragged her away with them."

"Yes. They went into the Room of a Thousand Fountains," Mace responds. He looks at the young Knight. "Do you have any idea what your sister is planning?"

"Not this time," Anakin sighs, close to a grumble.

"Well," Obi-Wan starts hopefully, "it can't be too bad if they are in the Temple."

Mace gives Obi-Wan a dry look. "Kenobi. You and I both know that has not stopped either Skywalker before."

"Now hold on–."

Obi-Wan nods and sighs. "Yes, that is quite true, unfortunately."

"Hey!" Anakin grunts and crosses his arms. "I've matured," he argued, and is quickly met with matching looks of slight disbelief, though Anakin can tell that Obi-Wan is also amused.

"I suggest we just leave them to it," Mace eventually says, which surprises both of the other men but Anakin is the only one who lets it show completely; Obi-Wan's features smooth out. "For now, at least. I trust that we will be able to sense something if anything does go wrong."

Obi-Wan and Anakin agree after a moment's thought. Surely, despite the Skywalker trait of causing trouble no matter what won't make too much of an appearance tonight, and it's not like any of them don't have a way to check up on their respective padawans. Bitty and Elvira, not so much – but surely...

Hopefully whatever they are doing will be mild.

+++

Turns out, planning various ways to get the Corrie Guards more medical supplies without alerting the Senate of anything isn't as easy or as quick as Zariza first wants to believe.

Once she has explained everything to Ahsoka, Elvira, Pytir, and Bitty, they all begin to throw out ideas on what to do and how to do them, and whether or not the entire thing should be a surprise. Zariza immediately argues that it shouldn't. She and Fox don't talk often, most of her time with the other commander is when she's meditating, after all, but she does plan on asking how he would feel about getting him and his brothers more of the things they needed. Plus, she's pretty sure if they sprung this on him as a surprise, then Fox might see it as some sort of charity work – and not in the good way. He seems like that type of person to take it the wrong way, even though they all mean well.

Zariza wants to avoid that.

They stay in the Room of a Thousand Fountains for three hours that night, simply bouncing ideas off of one another. The only solid plan they have is to eventually get their Masters and then the clone commanders of their battalions and legions in on the plan. Maybe somehow get Master Quinlan Vos, too. He works with the Guard for Shadow work sometimes, so hopefully he will be willing to help. It's not too soon after they make up that part of the barely-there-plan when Bitty has to leave back to the barracks, and when Elvira gets a message from Master Plo Koon that they have to leave the next morning to an unknown Outer Rim planet.

("At least it's not Tatooine," Zariza tells her best friend.

Elvira scrunches her nose. "From the stories you've told me, I have to agree."

She smirks to herself and says, "Oh, you should definitely ask Anakin for more stories. Mention the amount of sand," and then turns around to walk off with Bitty back to the barracks.

The message she receives on her comm an hour and a half later from her brother demanding "why the kriff did Elvira just ask me about the karking sand on that sith-damned planet" has her barely holding back laughter when she eats a late dinner with Masters Mace and Depa.)

+++

"So, can I ask why you want to do this for the Corries?" Bitty asks two days later.

They are in hyperspace, off to some place that is being relentlessly attacked by Separatists, and Zariza and Bitty are sitting side by side in a small break room still trying to come up with a solid enough plan before telling anyone else. Sometimes they commtext the others. Zariza should probably be studying for a test she has to take in her negotiations class once they are back on Coruscant, and Bitty should probably be studying one of the many medical holopads the medics gave him to make sure he isn't behind on any knowledge, but instead they are casually playing a miniaturized version of dejarik on her 'pad while they think of how to best go about getting more supplies for the Corries.

Zariza doesn't immediately respond. She moves one of her characters, eliminating two of Bitty's, and he cusses under his breath in Mando'a.

She takes in a steady breath. "So. You... You know how I was a slave?"

He falters. He cautiously glances at her, and then back at the game, pushing the curls off of his forehead when he runs a hand through his hair. "Um. Yeah. It's in your med files," he says. "Even though I'm just a medical assistant to Stitch and them, I have to know your background so I don't, like, traumatize or hurt you any more if I ever need to help the others. I mean, I don't know everything like Stitch has to, but I know some things." Then, awkwardly and because he may be kind of rambling, "Twice, right?"

"Yeah," is all Zariza can say for a moment.

Bitty stays quiet after that. The clones who know that she had been a slave know that it's a...delicate topic, for lack of better words. Something she hardly brings it up with anyone other than Mace and her brother and the mind-healer she's required to talk to regularly. Rarely does she bring it up willingly with anyone else. So, this is unexpected.

He kind of wants to take his original question back, tell her to forget it and that she doesn't have to give him an answer if she doesn't want to. But he doesn't get the chance to.

"Slaves don't get medical help," she finally says, just after Bitty makes a move on dejarik. One of the holomonsters move forward, but nothing else happens. She doesn't take her turn just yet. "If someone gets hurt, we have to rely on each other to take care of each other. Or, uh," her brows furrow, "they do."

Slowly, he nods. "What if– what if someone needs medical help, though?" Bitty haltingly asks despite his better judgement.

She shrugs, expression a bit detached. When she speaks, her voice is equally so. "Dep– ...The slavers don't do anything, mostly just let them die if the wound's bad enough. At those times, the slaves either miraculously live, or don’t. Mercy killings aren't uncommon among them." Dark eyes stare at the game but they're unfocused.

Bitty kind of hates himself for not shutting up.

He fidgets for a moment but then moves to get into a better sitting position – not so accidentally bumping into Zariza during the process. The jostling makes her take in a short yet sharp quiet breath in, and she shakes her head, reaching to make the next move in the holochess game.

"Your brothers not getting the supplies they need..." She sounds more like herself then, even if her voice is still quiet, and she isn't staring through the holomonsters anymore. Rather, she's watching them. "It puts a bad taste in my mouth, so to speak. If I can do something to help, I will."

"You will. I know it," Bitty tells her, and he sounds so sure about it to even his own ears. Zariza finally tears her gaze away from the game and at him. He grimaces. "Just like how I know you're going to beat me in this game again."

She smiles, and settles back in her seat. "If you'd just let me teach you–."

"Nope, no way, I can do it without anyone's help."

"Say that to the past ten times you've lost."

"I think you're gaining an ego."

"I think you're just a sore loser."

"I think you should both be studying," Spite's voice breaks up the bantering as he enters the break room, heading straight for the caf. Both teenagers jump in their seats and turn around on the small, uncomfortable couch to look at the man.

Bitty glowers at him. "Rude."

"Can we finish this round of dejarik first?" Zariza politely asks.

Spite nods with a shrug. "Sure. General Windu is expecting you at one of the training decks in two hours to practice your katas, Commander."

It's Zariza's turn to nod. "Alright. Thanks for telling me." She turns back around, and Bitty begrudgingly does as well – but not without flipping his brother off.

Spite returns the action and plops in one of the chairs across from the couch, caf in hand and bucket at his feet. "Bitty's losing, right?"

"Oh, definitely."

"Good."

"Hey–!"

+++

The plan ends up being this: take an nondescript, little enough amount from the supplies left over missions and campaigns to the Guard. An amount that won't be suspicious when counting how much is left for later restocking. The battalions and legions will take turns bringing the contraband, as Ahsoka has started to begin to describe it, and make the one sided trade in an area that has no cameras or anything of the like because Zariza is pretty sure this might be illegal in the Senate's eyes.

And, well. As much as she doesn't like the Senate, she doesn't want to be arrested a second time or somehow get the Corrie Guards in trouble.

The padawans tell their Masters of the plan, finally, and Bitty tells Spite once Zariza has told Master Mace, and it's not too long after that Commanders Cody and Wolffe and Captain Rex get told of the plan as well. They all have to think on it, which isn't surprising.

If they disagree, Zariza isn't above figuring out a way to do this by herself.

Anakin, though, is on board immediately, which doesn't shock her in the slightest. So is Commander Cody, which does surprise her but maybe it shouldn't, and Commander Wolffe and Master Jedi Plo Koon only have to think about it for an hour before they're both talking more in depth with Elvira about the plan. Obi-Wan is in on it for sure the next day, and then Rex agrees to join in, and soon enough it's only Mace and Spite who have yet to give a definitive answer.

+++

Mace sits down in the grass next to his padawan a week after her talk with Bitty in the break room, during a lull in the current battle. Zariza has a blaster bolt burn on her hip, a cut above her brow, and she's beyond dirty and ashy from fighting for so long. Mace isn't much better, having gotten hit in both the shoulder and foot rather than letting the bolts get the clones.

This particular fight against the Separatists on this particular planet is taking days to win. Even young Bitty, who is usually ordered to stay on the ship, is planet side to help. All hands on deck are needed to care for the wounded.

Everyone is equally tired, and Mace knows that Zariza can tell both through the bond and how he lets himself slouch that he wants this battle to end as much as she does.

"You care a lot," Mace says after a few minutes of silence between them. "I admire that."

Zariza looks at him, and through the Force bond there's a flash of surprise that's otherwise hidden outwardly. It's obvious not what she's been expecting him to say.

"It also means you get attached easier than others, and paired with your stubbornness, it can be dangerous. The same thing goes for your brother, I'm aware," he tells her. "But I won't be getting into that tonight. What I want to say, my padawan, is that I love how you care about the clones. I hope you know that I care about them, too." When she nods, he continues, "I have meditated on it, and I have also talked with Spite, Plo, Kenobi, and Commander Cody each, and between what the Commanders have both shared, it's obvious that their brothers are not as safe from immediate danger as the Senate believes.

"And so because of that," he says with a barely there smile, "I will help you with this plan of yours."

Zariza blinks a few times, rapidly, and grins. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly," he deadpans. His expression cracks into a smile, though, as Zariza can't hold in her laughter. "Plo and I will also be trying our best to talk the Senate into giving the Guard more supplies. I might ask your brother to speak to Senator Amidala for clues as to how to go about doing so. Lastly, Kenobi will be speaking with Vos, to see if he has more insight on how the Coruscant Guards are fairing with their limited supplies. Hopefully this will end up being a short term thing."

She fidgets, smile wide and all teeth, and she's clearly debating something in her head. Mace almost questions her, but stops himself right when Zariza gets a determined glint in her eyes and throws herself at him. Her arms wrap around his torso and her head settles just under her chin. Mace is frozen for all of half a second, and then he hugs her back. He rests his chin comfortably on the top of her head, the training bond singing with warmth in the Force.

"Thanks, Window," she mutters into his robes.

He smiles. "Of course, little one."

+++

Here is what Fox knows about Zariza Skywalker:

1) She is somehow related to General Skywalker. Whether she's his sister, or cousin, or not related biologically but chose for some reason to have his last name, he doesn't know. And he doesn't plan on asking.

2) As much as she is quiet and kind and polite, she's sometimes also chaotic and snappish and loud. A living contradiction. He thinks it has something to do with General Mace Windu being her Jedi Master that she isn't more rambunctious like General Skywalker. (The stories he's heard from both Cody and Rex are...something, that's for sure.)

3) She doesn't trust the Senate – or something similar. He doesn't know fine the details, but Thire has witnessed her roll her eyes at Senator Orn Free Ta behind the twi'lek's back and then mutter how he's a "disgusting piece of bantha fodder." Fox has no idea what a bantha is, but he's inclined to agree, anyway.

4) She likes befriending his siblings. They like befriending her, too. They all love how she always asks for their names, not their numbers, and makes sure to use them. Of course other Jedi do the same, but a few still use numbers when someone hasn't chosen a name. The little Skywalker doesn't. She even helps some of them try out different names, and makes suggestions when they ask.

(There's also a rumor, one Fox doesn't know how to feel about. If what he heard from Wolffe, who heard from Cody, who heard from Rex, who heard from Grey, who heard from Ponds, who had heard from Spite is true...then the vod'ika who got experimented on to age normally has a crush on her. It might be reciprocated. Part of Fox wants to approve, but his little brother liking someone who is technically his CO sets off warning bells in his head.)

And the newest information: 5) as a padawan, General Skywalker accidentally let loose a murder droid within the Jedi Temple, and Commander Skywalker, as an initiate, attached a flesh eating plant to it for, in Quinlan's words, "shits and giggles."

"I'm sorry," Fox starts, having trouble processing what the Jedi just said. Maybe the lack of sleep is finally catching up. "They did what."

Quinlan shrugs, nonchalant as always, and holds his hands with his palms facing Fox. "I said what I said, Foxy. Murder droid, flesh eating plant – that's literally all I know. Obes told me about it since I hadn't been at the Temple at the time, and he didn't give me the full story."

He has...so many questions. Too many to say his usual dispute about being called 'Foxy'.

"But speaking of the little Skywalker," Quinlan begins and Fox doesn't get a chance to articulate any of the thoughts running through his mind, "She's coming by here to ask you about something."

"When?" The dread is already forming in his gut. If this somehow ends with a flesh eating plant being involved–

A soft knock on his office door sounds.

"Now, apparently," Quinlan says.

Fox gives him a dry look. "You don't even know it's her."

"Force signature." As if that's supposed to be the explanation.

Hells, Jedi are too vague sometimes.

"...Right," he sighs. He doesn't bother putting on his bucket. "Come in!"

The door to his office slides open, and Commander Skywalker steps in. Her appearance takes him by surprise. Visibly tired, a white bandage pokes out from under her sleeveless Jedi tunic, and her curly dark brown hair that's usually down is in a loose nerftail. She's also still wearing the pieces of armor her battalion gave her to wear on her forearms, chest, knees, and calves – all obviously hastily cleaned. With the way she's standing, it's clear that she has a few or so injuries hidden beneath her clothes, but there's a cut on her brow and some sort of wound on the back of her hand, covered by bandages and bacta.

Fox notices that last one as she presses the button on the wall that closes his door manually, when it doesn't close automatically.

Quinlan swears. "Geez, kid, did you just come from a campaign?"

"Yes, actually," says Commander Skywalker. "It wasn't an easy one."

"You couldn't have, oh, I dunno, gone to your quarters at the Temple and rest first?"

She makes a face like Quinlan is the weird one. "No. This is more important."

Quinlan doesn't reply for a moment. Just stares at the teenager and the stubborn tilt of her chin that practically screams she's not backing down anytime soon, even to a non-Force user.

Another reason she probably gets along with his siblings. They're all stubborn pieces of fodder.

Quinlan sighs. "Yeah, I know, squirt. But I'm staying, and when you're done here I'm taking you back to the Temple. Sith-hells, where even is Windu? Why isn't he here?"

"He's debriefing with the Council and the Chancellor, right now."

"Ah," he says. “Don’t blame you for coming here, then.”

"Commander Skywalker," Fox finally gets a chance to speak. "Here to commandeer my office and meditate in the corner again?"

She smiles kindly. "No, not this time. But if you want me to stop that, I will."

Fox almost raises an eyebrow in disbelief, but stops when he remembers his bucket isn't on his head. "It's all right. I don't mind it, too much," he says. As if he could say no if it wasn't. "Vos, here, was just telling me you had a question."

Her eyes cut over to Quinlan before staying on Fox. She begins to fold her hands in front of her, but then must have registered the fact she doesn’t have on her usual Jedi cloak, and opts for folding them behind her back. Akin to a soldier at ease.

Fox keeps his face blank as he thinks: oh – she's nervous. But what about?

Commander Skywalker clears her throat. "So. The other day – or, uh. Well, it's closer to half a month ago, I think. Anyway, I was with Pat to help them bring in a shipment of general medical supplies when they told me that the Guard doesn't get as much as they should."

Fox can’t hold back his brows from furrowing together. Where is the kid going with this? "And if I say we do get enough and Pat was just being dramatic?" he asks, because he's not about to have this turn into some pity thing.

"Then I will say I know that you're lying," she says. Just like that. No hesitation. Straight to the point, and blunt, and that stubborn chin tilt is back and aimed at him, this time.

It surprises him so much that it no doubt shows on his face.

"My friend, Elvira, has done the math. She's figured out how much supplies of medicine, bacta, and rations each battalion and legion needs. The ones out in field have enough, or just so. The Coruscant Guard gets less than a regular sized battalion, which is absurd because you are one of the largest legions and you're on Coruscant, so it shouldn't be too hard to give you the right amount of supplies, but instead you get less because apparently the Senate thinks nothing bad happens here to you guys.

"Protests here get violent – not always, but enough where it's not a surprise when one of your siblings get hurt doing their job protecting Coruscant. The criminal underworld on this planet isn't exactly a walk in the park. The Senate Building is regularly attacked, along with the senators themselves, and you and your siblings are the ones taking the fire, protecting everyone. It's a daily thing. I would bet my right arm that you rarely get leave, and the people in charge of you suck – the Chancellor included.

"If anything, the Coruscant Guard should be getting at least more supplies than a regular sized legion. You don't. It's... Its not fair."

The impassioned speech is half rant, half facts, wrapped around a veiled sense of frustration and anger and something else Fox can’t quite decipher. Commander Skywalker had looked away by the end. Her eyes cut to the side away from him and Quinlan, face tilted in the same direction a little bit, with furrowed brows and an expression that once again tells Fox she is angry but trying to stay calm.

Fox gets the impression, now, that this only isn't a delicate conversation for himself but for her as well. Unwillingly, his eyes fall to her neck, which bears scars reminiscent of a shock collar, or something similar, that aren't more than a year old, at least. They're usually hidden by a shirt with a longer neckline, or somewhat covered by her cloak. This isn't the first time he's noticing them, but is the first time he's gotten a good look.

It has Fox's first instinct to snap at the girl that this isn't her business to fall away.

He looks away before she notices, and gathers his thoughts together.

"I doubt you're saying all of this just to say it," Fox says. Then, with a subtle steadying breath, "You are not wrong. We don't...get as much of the things we need as we should. But we manage. We have to."

"Well, you shouldn't have to," she says hotly.

He silently agrees.

Commander Skywalker takes in a calming breath, and finally turns her head so she's facing him again. The heated anger has diminished somewhat from her eyes, but it's still there. Her tone, though, is back to being hesitant and nervous when she speaks again, "I... I have a plan. To get you and your siblings more supplies. But I won't do it if you don't want me to. It involves going behind the Senate's backs, so it's likely on the illegal side of things. But, like I said, it won't happen without your approval. It's your choice."

It's your choice.

Fox doesn't think he's heard those words uttered to him before. It kind of makes his brain malfunction for a second.

His choice. His siblings' choice.

"...I need to think about it."

+++

"You're joking," Thorn says, later that night at 79's after Fox updates him and the other Corrie Commanders on what happened. They only have a few hours of time off before they need to high-tail it back to their job.

"I'm not."

"Holy kriff."

"Why?" Stone questions. "I mean. I know she's a nice Jedi shiny and all, so it doesn't surprise me, to an extent, but what does she get out of it?"

"She's a Jedi," Thire says. "They're selfless, or that's what others say. She's not expecting anything in return."

Fox stays quiet as they continue to talk. A few minutes later, he's getting up and stalking the bar for 187th's newest Commander and battalion's medic. Ten minutes later, he's back at the shared table with Spite and Stitch in tow. He takes his original seat back beside Stone but Stitch shoves at them so he can have room to sit, while Spite squeezes in the booth on the other side with Thorn and Thire.

"She told you, I'm guessing," is Spite's first words after getting kidnapped from his own group – Mayhem and Knuckles, while trying to simultaneously drag Bitty away from the area of the bar with alcoholic drinks, stare at them in confusion and suspicion.

"Yes. Why does she want to help?" It's not so much a question as it is a demand.

Stitch rolls his eyes.

Thire says, "Need I repeat: she's a Jedi."

"You didn't ask her that yourself?" asks Stitch.

"No," Fox admits. "Getting told I actually have a choice for once sort of..." He waves a hand in the air, still a bit flabbergasted.

"Broke your brain?" Spite suggests.

"The most choice we have is whether or not we choose to paint our armor. Having the choice to say yes or no to more supplies, illegally acquired or not, is something else."

"I'm leaning towards 'no', honestly," Thorn admits. "What if the plan, whatever it is, fails? We'll be the ones taking the heat of it. And how can we know she's trustworthy? This is a kid we're talking about. A shiny, basically."

“Our Command’ika would never put you guys in trouble intentionally,” Spite says – a little defensively, Fox notices.

“I know that, but she’s still a shiny.” He gestures over to where Mayhem is carrying out Bitty on his shoulder, Knuckles laughing as the kid tries to get out of the other’s hold. “They don’t make the smartest decisions.”

“What about helping you guys is stupid?”

“Maybe the sneaking behind the Senate’s backs part,” Stone whispers intently, leaning forward so they can hear. “We work directly with the Chancellor. How the kriff is this going to get passed him?”

“If anyone can do it, it’s the Jedi!” Spite whispers just as intense. “She isn’t planning on doing this by herself – she has spoken with me, and General Windu, Kenobi, Skywalker, and Koon and their commanders. They all want to help.”

Thire runs a hand over his head. “I will admit, I want to say yes, but… I’m worried there’s a catch.”

“There isn’t one,” Stitch speaks up for the first time. Everyone looks at him. “Yes, she is a Jedi shiny, and because of that she is naturally compelled to help anyone and everyone without fault. But that isn’t the only reason for her. I won’t tell you, because it’s her choice to tell you guys and I won’t be the one to tell it in her place, but please trust me when I say she only has you and the rest of our vod’e in the Guard in her best interest.”

“And the others?” asks Fox.

“They just care,” answers Spite. “It’s hard to explain, and to accept. Even I’m still baffled by how much General Windu cares for every single one of us in the battalion. But I trust him and Commander Skywalker with my life, and the lives of our vod’e who are stationed under them, as well.”

Stitch nods. “If it came down it, I would put my trust in the other Generals as well, because General Windu trusts them and I trust him.”

Silence falls over the table.

Fox still needs to think about it.

+++

It takes another few days, but when Zariza gets told by Bitty that Fox wants to speak with her after one of her padawan tests, she hurries over as fast as she can, dragging Bitty with her. They make it there in record time.

Fox is sitting at his desk with his helmet off, looking worn and exhausted as always. Stacks of holopads and flimsiwork cover his desk, and she spots a stack of at least three used throw away caf cups. He has a fourth in one hand and a stylus for the ‘pad he’s working on in the other.

She’s fully expecting him to decline the offer. So, after pleasantries and polite greetings when they enter Fox’s office, she isn’t caught off guard when he tells them, “I can’t say yes to your offer.”

There’s still a little disappointment in her, though. “Oh,” she says. “That– I understand.”

“What? But Fox–” Bitty starts.

Fox shakes his head. Setting down the stylus and caf, he leans forward with intent. “No, I don’t think you do,” he interrupts. “Commander. Bitty. Listen to what I’m saying. I can’t say yes.”

Bitty scowls at his brother. “Yes, we get that–”

It clicks for Zariza immediately, right then. Oh. She knows what is happening.

“I understand,” she says, less disappointed and more, well, understanding. “That’s okay.”

Bitty rounds on her. “What? But all the planning we did!” He looks at Fox imploringly. “Don’t you want help, Fox?”

Fox sighs. “Bitty, please tell me your brain isn’t as small as your body.”

“Hey! I’m average height for a clone, you shabuir.”

The man rolls his eyes.

“Bitty, it’s okay,” Zariza says. “He can’t say yes. That’s fine.”

“Then why can’t he just say…” The heat in his eyes dwindle as he trails off, and widen in realization. “Oh.”

Zariza faces the other Commander. “Thank you for giving me your answer, Fox. We will respect your wishes.”

“That’s all I ask, Commander,” he says. “Now leave. I have flimsiwork to do, and the other Corrie commanders distract me enough as is.”

+++

Zariza races outside to the Temple speeder she might have highjacked. And no, she does not have a license for one yet. Climbing into the driver’s side, she starts the speeder, and Bitty gets into the passenger side.

“So, to be make sure I understand: we are still helping the Corries,” Bitty says as the engine starts.

She grins wide. “Yep! Let’s go tell the others.”

He nods. “Okay. But please don’t speed, I don’t want to get arrest—” he gets cut off by his own yelp as Zariza presses her foot in the gas.

“Sorry!” she shouts, not sounding an ounce apologetic as she smirks. “Foot slipped.”

Bitty half heartedly glares at her. “You’re lucky I like you.”

+++

“Fox can’t say yes because he works so close with Chancellor, because if he did say yes and Chancellor Palpatine found out, then that would be bad for everyone but extra bad for Fox. But Fox isn’t saying yes, but he also isn’t saying no, which in a round about means that he is giving us the green light to help the Corrie Guards out without actually saying yes. Make sense?”

Pytir and Ahsoka, the only two who were planet side because Elvira and Plo Koon are out with their legion again, stare at Zariza as they process her words.

“Yeah, it took me a second to realize what he was doing,” Bitty admits from Zariza’s side.

“Slaves did this all the time,” she tells them. “Affirm something in a way that sounds like you’re saying no but aren’t, to avoid trouble from masters, or whoever else is in charge.”

Bitty nods. “My vod’e do it back on Kamino, too.”

Pytir, a young pantoran boy and Obi-Wan’s newest padawan, asks, “Like probable deniability?”

“Plausible deniability,” Zariza kindly corrects, “but yes, exactly.”

“So if the Chancellor does find out and asks Fox about it, he’s not going to get in trouble,” Ahsoka says. “That’s so smart!”

“And that means the others can’t know,” Bitty says, looking at them all. Worry is starting to etch into his features. “I want to help my vod’e, but I don’t want to be the reason Chancellor Palpatine sends off the Corries for decommissioning.”

“Then we don’t let anyone else find out,” says Pytir.

+++

Pat doesn’t notice the influx of supplies at first.

They just think their vod’e are finally beginning to get injured less. An extra box of bacta patches here, another package of bandages there… It’s not a lot, but he notices. And the number in left over supplies at the end of the month increases to where they have just enough instead of too little.

They ask one of the Commanders if they asked for more supplies and it got confirmed. Each one denies it. Each one sounds like they know something he doesn’t.

It isn’t until after a brutal attack on the Senate building when they start piecing things together.

The medics don’t lose their vod’e to lack of supplies or the dreaded mercy killings. They lose them to life threatening wounds and blood loss and kill shots. At one point, Pat is doing his damn best to patch up one vod before he dies, even though he knows they don’t have enough supplies to do so, but–

They do. There are enough supplies to get his vod stable. Enough to patch him up.

They even have a few extra.

…They have extra.

A knock on the med room’s door pulls Pat from inspecting the last box. No one else needs medical attention, and it’s just… Sitting there. Unused. Not needed until further notice.

Pat turns to face the door; their head medic is busy speaking to another patient. They aren’t that surprised to see the Jedi shinies and the young clone that have begun to frequent this place, but he is surprised by the medium sized boxes a few are carrying.

“Hey, Pat,” Zariza greets with a smile. “How is everything?”

“Hey, kids,” he says. “Everything is good as it can be. We lost way less men than my fellow medics and I thought we would.”

Her smile widens, and the others smile as well. “That’s great.”

Bitty holds up the box he has. “We brought some pick-me-ups,” he tells them. “Little goodie bags, or that’s what they call them.”

“They’re just bags of candy, and tiny hand held games to keep your siblings entertained a little while they’re stuck here,” Elvira explains.

“We thought you guys might appreciate it after the chaos that happened at the Senate building,” says Zariza. ‘Chaos’ is putting it lightly. “Usually these are for the younglings at the Temple after a Life Day celebration but the Council agreed you guys need something good, so… Goodies.”

There’s a stinging in Pat’s eyes, and they are wholeheartedly glad that their bucket hides their face. They don’t need a vod’ika witnessing them tear up. It’s been a very stressful twenty-four hours, okay?

“Goodies,” they echo. The kids nod.

“Aw, c’mon, Pat, you’re not gonna send them away, are you?” asks one of their vod’e a medical cot, leg wrapped in a cast and bandages around his head. “We deserve the goodies!”

They shake their head. “No, I’m not. Come on – I’ll help hand them out.”

The three of them quickly get to it, splitting up to make things go faster. The head medic makes a vaguely annoyed noise as Bitty passes him, but it gets cut off halfway when the the young clone places a little bag from the box into the medic’s hand. With the helmet on, Pat can’t see his face. He would bet, though, that there is some amount of confusion on it.

“Don’t question it,” Pat tells him as he hands out a few of the little bags as well.

“…I’m too exhausted for this,” he mutters. “Thanks, Bit’ika.”

Bitty makes a face at the name but says, “You’re welcome.”

Zariza sends him a teasing grin as she says, “Aw, Bit’ika. That’s cute.”

The teen’s face darkens. “Shut up,” he says, but there’s no heat behind it and Pat catches a smile begin to form just as he turns his back to them.

Elvira rolls her eyes with her own smile. “Zari,” the zabrak sighs.

“What?”

The two best friends stare at each other. Elvira shakes her head. “You’re hopeless.”

Zariza’s face twisted into slight offense. “What the kriff did I do?”

“Hopeless,” she repeats.

They continue like that, and Pat listens and watches and smiles to themself. The mood of the atmosphere before they came in had been low and saddened and dull. Now? The atmosphere is brighter, and even a few of Pat’s vod’e are speaking and lightly laughing along with the teenagers.

Pat walks back over to the box of extra supplies that have to be used to rest his feet. Zariza comes over a few minutes later, box half empty, and sits down too. She hands them a bag and they take it.

“You wouldn’t happen to know why we are getting a gradual influx of supplies, do you?” asks Pat.

Zariza shakes her head. “Sorry, Pat. I can’t say that I do.”

They eye her. Runs her words through their head. Then, they let out a breathy chuckle. “Okay.” Lifting the little goodie bag, they shake it a little, listening to the small candies and hand held game clacking together.

“I do know that a few members of the Council are speaking with Senator Amidala to find a way to get you more supplies – not just for medical,” she tells him. “It might take a while, but… We’re trying.”

Pat feels like crying again. They really need some sleep. They’ve been up for 48 hours straight.

“Thank you,” they say sincerely and meaningfully. “I think you’re saving more of my siblings than you realize – even with these little bags.”

“A little kindness goes a long way,” she says.

They look at her again, curious. “Is that a Jedi saying?”

“No,” she says, then corrects herself, “Well, maybe, in a way. But my mom always told me that when I was really little. We… I was born into slavery, so there wasn’t a lot of kindness to begin with, and so we did our best to be kind to each other.”

“Thank the universe for your mom,” Pat hums.

A comfortable silence falls over them. It doesn’t last long, because a conversation they had with Fox pops into their head. A question is burning at the tip of their tongue, and he just has to know the answer.

“So, is the rumor that you might have a crush on Bitty true?”

Her head whips around to look at them so fast, they immediately become concerned for her neck. “There’s a what about what?!”

Pat busts out laughing.

#star wars au #star wars fanfiction #star wars oc #commander fox #clone wars oc #coruscant guard #oc: zariza #oc: bitty #bc he makes appearances in this #take the fear that i don’t need #my writing

9 notes · View notes