#342nd battalion

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Thire: You disgust me.

Jax: *eating a kitkat sideways* I realize this and don’t care.

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Jax would 100% say this and then run off

here, you can have the grenade. i just wanted this cute little pin it came with

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Jax: If I wanted to kill myself, I would simply jump from your ego to your IQ.

Blazer: *spits his caf*

[meshlatech]

Aay'han

CHAPTER 1

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Tags: Jedi OC, Clone OC, Very Gay, I mean like so gay, VERY VERY GAY, Jedi/Clone, During and after Order 66, Maybe some flashbacks to before, Established relationship (mostly), Mandalorian Jedi oc,

Backstory: Fenri Cyr is a newly knighted Jedi, who was trained under Jedi Grand Master Yoda. He was originally from Mandalore but for reasons unbeknownst to him, he was given to the Jedi Order. He is most gifted in Force Empathy, meaning he is able to feel emotions and feelings very easily and used this to his advantage in battle. While he is able to feel other’s emotions he is also able to hide his own from other force users. He uses this to his advantage when he falls in love with his Clone Commander, Commander Kit of the 342nd Battalion, and leader of the Solar Squad, a spays of ARC troopers who have adopted a sun as their insignia. This story follows Fenri as he flees from the empire and eventually joins the Rebellion.

Warning: Slight angst,

Screams.

He could still hear them, echoing as the force spilled their pain and agony into his head. The sounds of his friends and colleagues being gunned down one by one haunted him. They screeched in his dreams and whispered in his waking hours like ghosts, only to be drowned out by the whistling of the wind banging against the durasteel of his ship. Fenri was currently hiding on Carlac, in the burnt ruins of a Ming-po village. It was fairly wooded so anyone flying above wouldn’t be able to see his ship, not that anyone would fly above. Carlac was not considered very populated, just a couple of towns or huts dotted the snowy planet, so the Empire never really bothered with it. What use were a couple of farmers and snow? The ship was quiet. It’s always been quiet, save for the hum of the engines that vibrated the floor ever so slightly. It used to hurt his head, but he's learned to live with it. He had to. It’s been cycles since Kashyyyk, but even now when he closes his eyes, he's back on the Venator running for his life.

Fenri pushed the thought from his mind as he lay on his bunk. Turning to his side, he faced the door. He could see his lightsaber sitting on a bench along with his robes and knapsack across the room. The ship was a light freighter so it was larger than most ships he was used to flying solo. The ship was meant to have two pilots but he could fly it semi-fine just by himself. The room he was in was fairly big, containing two bunks on either side and a seating area surrounding a holotable which he used frequently to watch the holonet. It was the only time he really got to see what was going on throughout the galaxy, albeit from the Empire’s point of view but it's the best he could get. The door led to a hallway that connected to the cockpit and the small cargo area. From the cargo area, you could take a ladder that led to the upper deck which housed more cargo area and technical equipment. It was more of a diplomatic G-9 Rigger that was held in the Venator hangar but it flew fine, had a weapons system and Fenri had modified it to have a signature scrabbler so it did its job.

Fenri turned in his bunk, trying to allow his mind to calm so he could at least get some sleep before he left in the morning. He needed to take the long journey to Tatooine in order to stock up on supplies and fuel. There were probably closer ports but Tatooine was the only port he could think of that wasn’t regulated by Imperials. The trip would take around a day and a half in hyperspace, which wasn’t too bad flying across the galaxy in hyperspace. Once he got to Tatooine he would have to get at least a month's worth of fuel or more and possibly make his way back to Carlac or another non-imperial planet.

The Mandalorian sighed and stared at the bottom of the bunk above him. He had drawn a couple of symbols, mostly stars, but he stared at the large yellow sun he had drawn on the metal. The image of Kit filled his head. He thought a lot about him in the past couple of months. He would sometimes find himself daydreaming that the Purge had never happened and they were still going on missions together. Or that they had left the war and settled down on a nice planet with a farm and two kids or maybe in one of the domed cities of Mandalore surrounded by his birth family and clan. But that's all they were. Daydreams. He could never live that life. That life, that hope, was ripped from him on that cruiser above Kashyyyk. Mandalore was destroyed, its people scattered or extinct. For all he knew he could be the last Jedi and Mandalorian if he could even call himself either of those. Fenri remembered his times sneaking out of the Padawan dormitories into the library, reading every bit of information the Jedi Archives had on his homeworld and culture. He taught himself Mando’a and all their customs even teaching Kit some, who then passed his knowledge onto his squadron. They would take every opportunity to speak in Fenri’s native tongue and Spider and Blitz made it their mission to learn every Mando’a curse word in existence. The memory made Fenri chuckle a bit, but his voice was raspy from nonuse and it came out more like a cough. He remembered how his master found out after he showed up to a lesson half asleep after staying up all night reading Mandalorian literature and scolded him, but evidently gave him time out of Fenri’s busy schedule in order to read during daytime hours. As he drifted farther and farther down memory lane, sleep overtook him and he closed his eyes.

He woke up in bed in his quarters in the Jedi Temple. The sun shone through the window blinds, casting the room in a soft yellow glow. He could feel the soft sheets on the hard mattress cradling him as if daring him to fall back asleep. The air smelled of crisp Cassius tea, making his mouth slightly water. He would always drink the floral tea in the mornings before he started meditation. The room was clean and well kept as it was hardly used ever since he was knighted. He would only come back here in between missions or if called back to the temple for meetings and such. Across from the hard bed were a metal desk and a circular mediation seat just in front of one of the three windows. The table was covered in books and tools, messier than the rest of the room. His wandering gaze was interrupted as he heard a soft sigh from beside him. Turning to the right side of the bed, he saw the sleeping form of Kit, and with a punch to the gut, he realized he was in a dream. Kit had never been in his quarters, nor inside the Jedi Temple, but here he was in his dream, laying peacefully like the Purge had never happened. The sun shone on his blonde hair turning his messy curls golden and Fenri raised his hand to softly caress the soldier’s cheek, only for Kit’s eyes to open with a startle.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Fenri gave an apologetic smile, holding his hand on his lover’s cheek. Kit’s honey eyes sparkled with amusement and Fenri realized he had been awake this whole time.

“Vaar’tur.” Kit croaked as pressed his forehead against Fenri’s in an affectionate head bump who returned the gesture with a small peck on Kit’s nose.

The Jedi chuckled, “How long have you been awake?”

“Since sunrise.” The soldier encapsulated the other’s hand in his and pulled him closer into a loose embrace. “You’re off your game General. You’re usually awake by now. You’re going to be late. General Yoda has been ringing your commlink. You apparently have a meeting with him.” As if on cue a small beep sounded from the table across the room, but he ignored it.

“It’s my dream. I want to spend it with you, Commander.” Kit froze for a second in confusion and Fenri heard a soft “Your dream?” but he brushed it off. Fenri nuzzled his head underneath Kit’s chin, breathing in his scent. It even smells like him.

“They will be looking for you.” Kit mused in a soft sing-song voice, wrapping his arms around the Jedi’s waist. Fenri didn’t care. It was his dream. He didn’t have to care about his Master or the Order finding out about his relationship. He didn’t have to worry about assignments or the war. He was free to spend this time with his cyar’ika for as long as he wished, or at least until he woke up.

Fenri stayed there, basking in Kit’s warmth. He was happy.

“I will find you. I promise, cyare.” Kit’s words were sharp and hit Fenri like a bludgeon. He pulled away from Kit to look at him. Kit’s face was filled with determination and adoration. Kit held Fenri’s head in his hand and smiled. “I’m waking up now, but I will find you. I hope you hear this, even if you are in my imagination.”

“What?” Fenri was confused, but before he could gather more information his eyes opened and he was left staring at the metal bottom of the bunk above him and the etching of a sun.

Aay’han. A bittersweet moment of mourning and joy.

[grandapplewit]

Meet Rhyla, Miraluka Jedi Padawan of the 342nd Battalion, under Jedi Master Nala’i Gan :3

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For the few people who know Patch like I do… this. This is Patch. Once you get to know him, he’s a MESS, but compared to the rest of the 342nd, he’s NORMAL.

I can appreciate a man who's normal but I LOVE a man who's comparatively normal. A man who seems like a mess in a vacuum but as soon as you compare them to their friend circle you're like "oh. Oh wow. You're their idea of sensible."

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Annoyed Captain Blazer, probably after Jax says something bonkers.

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Blazer: *minding his own business*

Jax: Everyone has the right to be ugly, but you’re abusing that privilege.

Blazer: *not looking up* By default, you just called yourself ugly, or’dinii.

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Thire: I'll offer you some friendly advice-

Jax: I don't want your advice.

Thire: Well, then consider it unfriendly advice.

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I don’t know why Twitch would punch me but I’d be dead. He’s a genetically engineered super soldier who can use the Force. He’d kill me

why are "your icon would" games so fucking boring tell me how you'd feel if you met your icon and they punched you

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Thire, proudly: I slept.

Jax: Is that so much of a rare thing that you have to say it?

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Indy, an ARC Lieutenant who has no business adopting younger troopers: *sees Glitch who got left behind by his unit*

Indy: This is my son now.

Fuse: Indy please. You already adopted my whole squad.

Indy: Perfect! Glitch can join your squad!

Fuse: Have I ever told you how much of a pain you are sometimes?

Indy: :)

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ALSO ONE OF THE CLONE PRISONERS FREAKIN LOOKED LIKE MY BOY COMMANDER JAX MINUS HIS SCARS AND I AM SCREAMING.

If y’all remember how I usually draw Jax’s hair, you might know which clone prisoner I’m talking about. Don’t have a screenshot of him otherwise I’d just show you.

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For the 342nd? Jax. 100% Jax. Although Impulse gives him a run for his money sometimes.

For the 212th? Nexus or Tally. They’re both spazzy idiots in their own ways.

As for the Coruscant Guard, it’s definitely Umber.

Which of your OCs is the reason we can’t have nice things?

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Silence (a.k.a Jax has rejection sensitive dysphoria)

Jax has ADHD, and I also have ADHD, so of course I had to dump my RSD issues onto Jax too because traumatizing my OCs is how I cope when something is bothering me. I’m not gonna go into detail about my personal issues (I’m okay, just struggle-bussing it through life), but sometimes no matter what anyone says, RSD still manages to convince you that you did something wrong when someone stops talking to you. (Bob belongs to @thehannalyzer, btw, he’s not mine. (Also, I’m not trying to make any commander mentioned out to be a “bad guy” or “mean”, just so we’re clear on that. This is from Jax’s RSD-clouded POV, I’m not bashing anyone else mentioned))

—————

“Something’s bugging you,” Blazer said in lieu of a greeting when he walked into Jax’s office and leaned on the desk with both arms, one hand supporting his chin as he stared at Jax. 

Jax avoided eye contact and tried to pretend he was busy working. Go away. 

“Hey, genius, you and I both know you hate paperwork, so there’s no way you’re so focused that you didn’t hear me.” Blazer grabbed Jax’s datapad and pulled it out of his hands before setting it facedown just out of Jax’s reach. “You gonna talk to me or do I need to make you talk?” 

Jax glared up at Blazer. He looked genuinely worried, if annoyed, and Jax instantly felt guilty. What am I doing? Why am I pushing him away when he’s not even someone I’m mad at? Sighing, Jax rubbed a hand down his face, trying to stay composed enough to explain what was going on in his head. “The others are barely speaking to me. Or, it feels that way, anyway.” He shrugged. “I dunno if I’m just overreacting or if they’re actually ignoring me.” 

Blazer frowned sympathetically as he absently rubbed the scar on his chin with one finger. “Okay. Are they just busy? It’s not like things have been quiet for anyone lately.” 

Jax shrugged again, a lump forming in his throat. Force-dammit. Can’t talk about osik without crying. No wonder the others see me as a baby still. “I don’t know. A couple of them said they’re busy, but others… I haven’t heard from a few of them in weeks.” His eyes stung, so he scrubbed at them with one hand. He felt Blazer’s hand rest on top of the hand that still held his stylus for his datapad. 

“Who haven’t you heard from?” Blazer’s voice was gentle, so gentle. 

Jax couldn’t look at him. “F-Fox. And Bob. And— and Bacara and Neyo.” 

“Well, you told me that Thorn’s been worried about Fox too, so I doubt he’s ignoring only you if his twin is worried about him. Plus you mentioned that Thire sounded worried.” 

“Was that supposed to be reassuring?” Jax asked bitterly. 

Blazer gave a soft sigh. “Yes and no. It’s not a good thing that Fox seems to be ignoring Thorn and Thire too, but it does mean that it’s probably nothing to do with you, if that’s what you’re upset about.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Jax mumbled, still barely holding himself together. “Even if Fox isn’t mad at me, that doesn’t explain everyone else.” 

Blazer squeezed Jax’s hand. “It is possible that Bob is avoiding talking to you since that fight you two had. It might be good if you don’t talk to him for a while anyway.” 

Jax instantly felt guilt wash over him like a wave, so he buried his face in his arms on the desk, pulling away from Blazer. “I don’t wanna talk about that. He hates me, and I don’t even know what I did wrong.” Sure, Bob had sent multiple apologies after the fight, but that was nearly a month ago at this point. Jax hadn’t really responded since he wasn’t sure he believed Bob, and after a month of silence, it felt even harder to believe that Bob didn’t hate him. 

“So what if he hates you?” Blazer’s voice took on a fierce tone that seemed to color his words any time Jax mentioned that he thought Bob— or any of his brothers, really —hated him. “You don’t need his approval or attention. Same goes for Neyo and Bacara. If they don’t wanna talk to you, that’s their issue, not yours. You didn’t do anything to them.” 

Jax simply wanted to melt into the floor. He knew Blazer meant well, and some angry part of him agreed with Blazer, but he couldn’t shake the little cadet voice wondering why his older brothers didn’t seem to want to talk to him, or why he always felt like they looked down on him. Just the thought of never speaking to any of his older brothers again made that little voice cry out in agony. “But I don’t want to lose contact with them,” Jax whimpered into his arms. 

“If they’re not gonna put in the effort, why should you?” Blazer asked, his raspy voice nearly a growl now. 

Jax felt tears escape, so he pressed his face harder into his arms. “Because I love them,” he whimpered, feeling pathetic. 

He heard the soft thunk of Blazer’s vambraces on the desk, then footsteps that stopped at his side. A hand rested on his shoulder. “You don’t owe them anything. If they don’t want to talk to you, that’s their choice. Don’t let them drag you down. If they don’t think you’re worth the effort, then it’s not a relationship worth stressing over.” Blazer’s voice was much softer now. 

Jax tried to take a breath, but it came out as more of a sob. “But what did I do wrong?” It didn’t make sense that his older brothers would just stop talking to him, so he had to have done something to make them want to stop talking to him. Right?

Blazer grabbed Jax with both hands and carefully guided him out of his chair and onto the floor before pulling him into a tight hug. Jax didn’t have the energy to resist, so he simply buried his face in Blazer’s shoulder. “If you can’t think of anything you did wrong, you probably didn’t do anything wrong. Sometimes it’s not your fault when people don’t want to talk to you anymore.” 

“It still feels like it’s my fault,” Jax choked out, clinging to Blazer. 

Blazer simply held him tighter. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

Jax could only cry harder.

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Angry Nebula sketch because poses with this long skinny boy are fun. No I totally didn’t avoid drawing the other wing, what are you talking about?