#Plague-Trooper Medic

[ominouspuff]

*The Office theme starts up*

Fanart for @chiliger’s Purge-Trooper!Cody comic that’s had me laughing out loud many times. Vent-Dweller you are dear to me. Thank you for creating, @chiliger!

@interested parties, the medic’s gun reads “olde Betsy”, and “tranc-66”.

[mandos-mind-trick]

Healing Touch

Summary: It's ironic that your soulmate would be the one to save your life after sharing a pain connection with him. After the base you work at is attacked, you meet your soulmate, a loyal, dedicated clone who is willing to do anything to keep you two together.

Pairing: Kix x reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: NSFW, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, Kix is a freak, cum eating, oral, lots of discussion of pain and injuries, reader gets a really bad injury, life threatening injuries, blood, brief gore, medical stuff, soulmate AU, bad jokes.

A/N: I kinda hate this one but here you go. A surprise update to this series. I feel bad about not posting anything in a bit so I wrote some stuff. Also kind of inspired by a thread about friends of nurses who say they're a bunch of freaks. I'll let that speak for itself.

MASTERLIST

Pain is nothing new to Kix. 

Though he’s usually the one treating others in pain, he’s had his fair share of injuries as well. Being in active combat had its risks, and he often witnessed them firsthand. He was also used to phantom pains that seemed to plague him every so often. Pain in his fingers and hands, like burns or the dull ache after pinching your finger between something. There were occasional deeper pains and aches, but after the war started it got harder and harder to determine which ones were his and which weren’t. 

His soulmate link, he had figured out quickly after a panicked scan to make sure he wasn’t injured, or perhaps defective and suffering from some ailment they were supposed to be immune to.

It was ironic, really, that his soulmate link would be pain. Each soulmate feels the phantom pain of the others injuries. Though he had avoided some nasty injuries, he still feels bad for his soulmate. Not that they weren’t also constantly getting hurt as well, but theirs were more small pains than anything. In the rare moments when he wasn’t busy, he liked to try and picture what had happened, what they could be doing. 

It’s what keeps him sane when the missions get bad, when they go wrong, when he has to look past his brothers' suffering as he tries to save them. 

He often worries in the dead of night. What if something happens to his soulmate? Are they involved in the war? What if their planet gets attacked and no one’s there to help? Sometimes he lays there and waits for the inevitable excruciating pain of a fatal wound, or the blinding pain of losing his soulmate. He worries about something happening to him as well. He doesn’t want to do that to his soulmate. He’d watched far too many troopers die, far too many leaving their soulmates without ever having the chance to meet them. 

It happens one day, when his worst nightmares come to life. 

They had just finished a hard won campaign against the Separatists and Kix was still hard at work in the med-bay patching up those who were less severely injured. It takes him a moment to realize what’s happening, a strange feeling blossoming in his right side below his ribs. 

Then the pain hits him. 

He doubles over, barely catching himself on the gurney Fives was seated on. 

“Kix,” Fives puts a hand on his shoulder. “You alright?” 

Kix grits his teeth, trying to breathe through the sharp, stabbing pain in his right side. Had he been injured and not noticed until now as his adrenaline begins to crash? He can’t feel anything on his side, no wound, no blood, nothing. Had he taken a hit and not noticed? 

“Come on,” Fives says, slipping an arm around his shoulders. “You don’t look too good.” 

He was supposed to be checking Fives for a concussion, but instead here he is being escorted onto an empty gurney by his patient. A droid runs a scan, checking everything but there’s nothing. Still, the pain burns through him, sharp and stabbing with every breath in. 

It’s not him. 

It’s his soulmate. 

Many things begin to rush through his head. Had something happened? Is it some sort of organ failure, perhaps? With the pain where it is, it could be any number of things. An injury? Illness? Are they getting help? Can they get help? 

A comforting hand on his shoulder brings him back from his racing thoughts. Fives knows. Most of the squad knows. They trusted each other on the battlefield, and with their deepest secrets. He presses his hand into his side, taking a deep breath. He wishes he could ease the pain even a little. 

The doors slide open, Rex stepping in. 

“Kix, Fives, we need every able bodied trooper ready for a debrief in ten minutes.” He says. 

“What’s going on?” Fives asks. “We just finished a campaign.” 

“We’re being rerouted.” Rex says. “There was an attack on a base nearby. They need as many hands as they can get.” 

Kix tries not to let his thoughts take over as he rouses every physically able trooper. He can’t think about his soulmate right now. He has a job to do. 

***

Kix’s hands are shaking. He rarely lets himself get affected by the injuries he sees. He’s seen a lot, he has been trained to see a lot. Combat medics see the worst of things, and they weren’t supposed to break. They had to be prepared for anything. Calm under intense pressure, stable enough to be quick thinkers and ready to take charge if needed. 

The carnage left from the attack is some of the worst he’s seen. 

These weren’t just clones. 

There are civilians. 

Most of them are civilians. Engineers and mechanics employed by the GAR. Clone armor wasn’t impenetrable, but it offered a lot of protection against injuries and wounds. He’d seen clones survive what should have been a fatal shot because of their armor. Civilians don’t have armor. Most of them don’t see combat so there was no point to them wearing armor. Most of them stayed on bases, safe from the danger of combat. 

At least, the bases are supposed to be safe. 

The 18th Battalion had arrived shortly before them and had already begun locating and treating survivors. They were already working to stabilize those in the worst condition to shuttle them to the cruisers to get more intensive care. 

There’s still civilians inside. 

Most of the troopers were working their way through the ruins of the base, searching for more survivors. Most of them had been accounted for. Either managing to escape harm, or were already being treated. There were still many that were still missing. Kix knows trying to find all of them is impossible, but they had confirmed areas where there were injured civilians still, or they had heard voices calling out for help. 

“This thing could collapse any minute.” Crash says as the mangled roof groans dangerously above them. 

“There’s one right up ahead.” Kix says, staring at the map. 

Something falls off in the distance, the crash echoing through the air before it settles. Both troopers share a look before pressing forward, stepping carefully. Kix’s side still aches, pain still burning through him, but he pushes onward. He has a job to do. He can only hope his soulmate is alright. 

There’s nothing he can do to help. 

He moves forward with Crash, stepping around a piece of collapsed roof. The civilian marked on the map is right there, sitting against a piece of still-intact wall. It doesn’t take Kix long to figure out why no one has helped her yet. A piece of rebar has impaled her through her right side. 

She’s still awake, wide eyed and breathing shallowly. One look at her eyes tells Kix she’s in shock. She’s soaked in sweat and pale, blood staining her light blue shirt. He kneels down in front of her, taking a quick scan. She’s uninjured aside from the rebar, which has gone straight through her and into the wall behind her. 

“What’s your name?” He asks her. 

She tells him, her voice weak and shaky. 

“We’re going to get you out of here.” He says, the pain in his side increasing as Crash moves her just slightly to check how stuck the rebar is in the wall. 

His eyes widen beneath his helmet and he stares at her for a moment. Where the rebar is in her side is almost exactly where the pain is on his side. It couldn’t be...could it? 

“There’s no way of moving her without removing it.” Crash says. 

Kix sighs. He knows moving her at all is going to be excruciating. He takes a second to assess things and calm himself before doing what he does best and takes charge. “We can’t risk removing it. She’ll bleed out before we can get her out of here. Is there enough room to cut it back there?” 

“Barely.” Crash says. “It’ll be close.” 

“We have to try.” Kix says. 

Kix kneels in front of her, bending her top half forward just slightly, until he can feel the pain of the rebar moving inside of her. He lets her rest against his shoulder, her hands weakly lifting to cling to his arms as Crash cuts through the rebar behind her. 

He doesn’t need to guess to know how much pain she’s in. He can feel it. He has no doubt he’s right in front of his soulmate. Oh how he wishes they’d met in a different way. It was ironic, though, that he’d be the one saving his soulmate’s life. He’s determined to do everything in his power to save her. 

She cries out as the rebar jostles free, pain radiating through Kix as well. He breathes steadily, trying to comfort her as best he can. The pain begins to numb, her hands slipping from his arms. He pushes her so she’s sitting up slightly, hands cupping her cheeks. 

“Hey,” He pats her face gently, her eyes fluttering. “Stay with me.” 

Her eyes flutter before they crack open, staring at him blankly. He takes in their color, trying to memorize her face. 

“Let's get her on the stretcher and onto a shuttle.” Kix says, forcing himself back into his roll. He needs to get her into a surgical pod sooner rather than later. 

Navigating the building is hard as they carry the stretcher, Crash talking to her to try and keep her awake. He can barely hear her responses, and later Crash would tell him she was speaking nonsense. He’s not entirely sure she even knew what was happening. 

They get her loaded onto a shuttle, Kix having to watch it fly away the hardest thing he’s had to do. He wanted to be there, wanted to stay by her side, wanted to make sure she was going to be alright, that they got to her in time. He would know if she died, if he had failed. 

He shakes those thoughts from his mind, jumping back in to help the other injured civilians.   

***

Your head is throbbing when you wake. You feel like you’ve swallowed sand, your mouth and throat dry and aching. There’s beeping around you, and a harsh sterile scent burns your nose. Something flashes behind your eyes and you force them open, blinking against the bright lights. 

Something presses against your shoulders, keeping you still as you try to shift into a more comfortable position. Pain shoots through your right side, stealing your breath for a moment. 

“Easy.” A voice says above you. You know that voice. “Didn’t think you’d be up so soon.”

You blink blearily up at the figure standing over you. Your vision is still blurry, your mind trying to catch up. You’re disoriented, feeling far away from your body. 

“Here,” Something cold and wet touches your lips. “Drink.” 

You drink through the straw, cold water hitting your dry mouth. You drink greedily, feeling refreshed as the sandy feeling in your mouth begins to disappear. 

“Bacta makes my mouth feel dry too.” 

You turn your head to look at the person standing next to you. He’s a clone, you can tell that much as your vision begins to clear. That’s why you recognize his voice. You’re no stranger to clones after working for the GAR for two years. 

You press the heel of your hand into your forehead, closing your eyes. “Where am I?” You murmur, not even sure actual words come out. 

“On a cruiser, heading for a medical station. Do you remember what happened?” He asks slowly. 

You think for a moment. Do you remember? “It was a normal day at work.” You start, walking yourself through your day. “I was working on an attack shuttle. I had gone to grab a different tool when...” Horrible images flash through your mind. You remember being thrown, heat washing over you. Something hitting you, or you hitting something. Pain. You remember pain.

Something beeps rapidly beside you, the clone putting a hand on your shoulder. “It’s alright. The base was attacked.” He explains. “You were injured badly. I was one of the ones that got you out. I wanted to come and check, make sure you were alright.” 

You stare at him, taking him in. His head is buzzed, lightning bolts shaved into the short buzzed hair. There’s a tattoo on the side of his head, but you can’t see all of it from this angle. He’s handsome, as you thought most clones were. His armor is painted blue with the medic’s symbol on his shoulder. 

“Thank you.” You say, staring up into his brown eyes. “For saving me.” 

He smiles softly, running a hand over his head. “Well, it is my job. And I wasn’t about to let anything happen to my soulmate.” 

You stare at him blankly, taking in his words. Soulmate? 

“You have a pain link, right?” He asks, looking so hopeful. 

You nod slowly, still trying to process his words. You had tried not to think too much about your soulmate. Your link had appeared later than you expected, little pains here and there, that blossomed into harsher ones more often. You wondered about your soulmate and if they were alright, until the war started. You had heard about people discovering their soulmates were clones and that’s why their links had shown up later. 

You haven't put much thought into it. You were destined to meet eventually, and you trusted it would happen. You had been more focused on leaving home, on building your career. 

He grabs a small needle pulling off his glove before pricking his finger with it. You feel the sharp pinch on your own finger, lifting your hand to stare at it. 

Nothing. 

No mark. 

No blood. 

You let your hand drop slowly, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“My name’s Kix.” He says. “Medic with the 501st Legion.” 

You tell him your name, introducing yourself with your status as a civilian engineer. 

“I didn’t think this was how we were going to meet.” He says. “I’ve been waiting for this for a while.” 

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. You knew about clones, about the rules around soulmates. That’s partially why you refused to think too much about it. You don’t want to be rejected. You’re not sure you can handle that. “A-Aren’t you supposed to-” 

“Technically.” He says, cutting you off with a grin. “Most of us don’t follow those rules.” 

You stare at him for a moment. “But...” 

“If all of us followed every rule, we probably would have lost the war already.” He leans against the side of the bed. “There’d be a lot fewer of us, anyway.” 

Your brain feels like it's moving in slow motion. “So...you’re not going to reject me?” 

He smiles, shaking his head. “No. Not unless you want me to.” 

You shake your head. “No, no. I just...didn’t expect...” 

“I know it’s a lot. Especially after what just happened.” Kix says. “I just wanted you to know since we’ll be leaving after everyone’s offloaded at the medical station. I didn’t want to miss this chance in case we don’t cross paths again.” 

Right. Their only job was getting you to the medical station. They still had a war to fight, so naturally they’d be leaving off to their next battle. You’re not sure where you’re going to end up now that the base you had been stationed at is gone. The chances of you two crossing paths again is slim, but you were soulmates for a reason. 

You take his bare hand, squeezing it gently. You can feel it, the flow of energy between you two. His calloused fingers wrap around yours, and you try to memorize just how his skin feels against yours. “We’ll meet again.” You say, staring at your hands. “We are soulmates after all.” 

He smiles, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “You’re right. I just hope it’s under better circumstances.” 

You can’t help but smile. “I hope so too. I’d be happy if I never had to go through that again.” 

***

Your name is called as you make your way down the hallway. 

After your brief stay at the medical station, you had been sent back to Coruscant to the GAR headquarters to await reassignment. You assumed you’d be staying on Coruscant, since the war was heating up and a bunch of dead civilian workers wasn’t exactly a good look. 

You turn, one of the lead engineers walking up to you.

“I have your orders for your reassignment.” She says, handing you a datapad. “You’re loading up with the 501st when they arrive.” 

“The 501st?” Your eyebrows lift in surprise. 

“I hear they asked for you directly.” She says. 

Your brows furrow. Kix was assigned to the 501st. Had he managed to pull some strings without giving anything away? You couldn’t risk revealing anything, not with the GAR directly involved. So how had he done it? 

They arrive a few hours later. You’re patiently waiting on the airfield among crates of supplies to be loaded on. The venator cruiser kicks up a breeze as it lands, truly an engineering marvel. A huge floating city, capable of housing thousands. Ships weren’t your specialty, but you often found yourself working on their communication systems. You had been fixing one in a shuttle when the base was attacked. 

You wait for the offloading of troops and supplies, heading into the ship as troopers begin moving supplies on. You look around the hangar, likely where you’ll spend most of your time. Shuttles and cruisers, and all other sorts of vehicles. 

You eventually find the lead engineer, getting a tour and introduction to the cruiser. You had only been on one briefly, most of your knowledge about them being learned virtually during training. You had spent more time learning about the clone’s armor and how to fix any sort of malfunction or damage that may be caused. The functionality of their armor is essential, especially their helmets. 

You’re eager to see Kix again. You want to know just how he’d managed to get you assigned to his battalion. You can’t be conspicuous, though. Even at this proximity, you still have to be careful. If the wrong person found out, it would spell disaster for both of you. 

You’re checking through one of the supply rooms when he finds you. Your first task with the 501st had been to restock and organize the supplies getting loaded onto the ship. It was a typical task for a newbie, since you’d need to learn the layout of the supply room and where things are located in case you need them in a pinch. 

“Hello, mesh’la.” 

You nearly jump out of your skin as the deep voice breaks the silence of the supply closet. You spin around, finding Kix leaning against one of the shelves behind you. You hadn’t even heard him come in. That was precisely why you weren’t a soldier. 

“Kix!” You put a hand on your chest. “You scared me!” 

He grins. “Sorry. Thought you heard me come in.” 

You shake your head. “I was too focused, I guess.” 

“It’s good to see you.” He says, stepping closer. “I missed you.” 

It has been a few weeks since you’ve seen him. You’ve missed him too. You’d felt it, the longing deep in your soul for its other half. The distance, the lack of contact had begun to eat at you. It’s easing now with him so close. Even though you’ve just been reunited, your entire body is already relaxing. 

“I missed you too.” You say, stepping closer to him. 

He pushes the cart out of the way, stepping up right in front of you. You stare up at him, his fingers grazing over your side. “How do you feel?” 

“Completely healed.” You say with a smile. “Hardly more than a scar left.”

“Good.” He says, wrapping his arms around you. You’ve never been this close to him before, but it feels right. “I hated feeling you in pain.” 

“I hated being in pain.” You reply, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Though, whatever you did to your foot a week ago, that sucked.” 

He grins sheepishly. “Would you believe me if I told you that was a box of medical supplies?” 

You stare at him for a moment. “No.” 

He chuckles. “I’ll tell you about it later.” He leans down, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m just glad you’re here.” 

“Yeah, how did you manage to get me assigned to the 501st?” You ask, pulling away slightly. 

He lifts a hand, rubbing the back of his head. “Well, I may have told Rex and had him put in a special request.” 

You stare at him wide eyed. 

“Don’t worry,” He tries to ease your concern. “He’s not going to say anything. None of them are.” 

“What did you do, tell the whole squad?” You ask. 

“The whole platoon, actually.” He says sheepishly. 

“You were the one that said we had to be careful.” You punch his shoulder, the plastoid harder than you expected it to be. 

“I think that hurt you more than me.” He says, taking your hand and inspecting your sore knuckles. “But don’t worry. No one’s going to say anything. We’ve all been sworn to secrecy about each other’s soulmates. It’s a sort of unspoken law among clones.” 

“That’s sweet.” You say, captivated by his fingers as they gently massage your hand. 

“I’ll introduce you tonight during third meal.” He says. “When everyone’s back on board.” 

“Yeah, shouldn’t you be out enjoying your shore leave?” You ask. 

“I wanted to see you.” He says. 

You stare up at his face, at those big brown eyes. “You’re being all sweet on me now, making me nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous.” He soothes, wrapping his arms back around your waist. “I’m just a goofy guy who's never really talked to a woman before outside of a professional setting.” 

You stare at him open mouthed. “You’ve never...” 

He shrugs. “Never really wanted to.” 

You lean against his chest, wrapping your arms around him. “Well, you’re doing a good job.” 

He chuckles, the sound deep in his chest. “Thanks.” He holds you for a few moments before letting you go. “I’ll come by the lab and show you around later, okay?” 

You nod, a smile tugging at your lips. “Okay.” 

He swoops down, kissing your cheek before leaving you a bit flustered in the supply closet. 

***

Despite how close you two are, you barely get to see Kix. With the 501st constantly on the move, constantly going from one campaign to the next, you’re very busy and so is Kix. You mostly see each other in passing, or in the mess hall, or occasionally in a stolen moment in a supply closet. You only see him in the med bay twice, there usually for burns on your fingers, things you’ve become almost numb to in your years of working as a mechanic and engineer. 

You finally get a quiet moment to yourselves on a long journey from one side of the galaxy to the other. Well, it wasn’t exactly that far, but it was a long trip. You’re glad for the break, and glad for the quiet moment you get to spend with Kix. 

He tells you to meet him in the barracks, a place you hadn’t really explored much. You weren’t really supposed to go into the clone barracks, especially as a civilian unless it was an emergency. 

This was an emergency, you were about to go crazy from the longing to be close to him again. The GAR wouldn’t see it that way though. 

You’re extra careful, slipping in quickly as he waves you over from the door. It’s empty besides the two of you, Kix leading you over to his bunk. 

“How’d you get everyone to leave?” You ask, laying down and stretching out. They’re not any more comfortable than the civilian bunks. 

“I may have promised to buy the boys a couple extra rounds on our next shore leave.” He says, stretching himself out next to you. He’s stripped from his armor, left in his blacks. 

“Another unspoken clone law?” You ask, tracing your fingers over the muscles visible under the tight bodysuit. 

“Well, they know why I’m doing it.” He says, his hand settling on your waist. “I just figured you’d prefer some quiet privacy. They’d pretend to ignore us, but they’d be listening the whole time.” 

You hum, kissing him softly. “Then I thank you for your sacrifice of a couple rounds.” 

He grins against your lips, pulling you closer against his chest. “Just doing my duty, ma’am.” 

You pause for a moment, a tingle running down your spine as he calls you “ma’am.” You’ll have to lock that one away for later. He pulls you back to him, kissing you harder. You lose yourself in him, letting all of the stress and fear and emotions over the last few weeks go. You worried about Kix, every time they left on a campaign. You monitored comms as often as you could, for more than just your job of making sure everything was functioning. You waited anxiously to hear that Kix is alright, that he’s still alive and well. 

“How long do we have?” You murmur against his lips as he rolls you onto your back, settling on top of you. 

“An hour or so.” He says, lips leaving your lips to kiss down your jaw. 

“Is that going to be enough time?” You ask. 

He smirks against your neck, nipping at the skin. “I’ll make you cum at least twice before then.” 

You smirk, lifting your arms as he tugs your shirt over your head. “Is that a challenge?” 

“No,” He smirks, hands cupping your breasts. “It’s a promise.” 

You gasp as his lips close around one of your nipples, tugging it gently with his teeth. You’re already wet, your underwear sticking uncomfortably to you. You can feel him pressed up against your thigh, painfully hard through his blacks. You’ve both been waiting for this, eagerly anticipating this moment. You wish you had all the time in the world to do this, but you’re lucky enough to even get an hour of privacy together. 

You can’t wait for this war to be over with. 

He continues his kisses down your stomach, tugging your pants and underwear down. You let your legs fall open for him, his eyes staring hungrily at your soaked pussy. Your cheeks warm a bit as he stares at you, his eyes dark and lust-blown. His hands hold your thighs as he leans in, licking a stripe along your slit. You gasp at the sensation, his tongue dragging over your clit. 

You have to be careful not to make too much noise. Anyone walking past could hear, and with your luck it would be the wrong person. You’d get in so much trouble, both of you. 

You press a hand over your mouth as he dives right in, eating you like a man starved. He was, in a way. You had put this off far too long. You’d snuck a hand into your panties in the dead of night a few times while thinking of him, trying to take the edge off as you waited for the opportune moment. 

Nothing compared to the feel of him, though. 

His tongue thrusts into you, licking at your walls as his nose presses against your clit. You curse behind your hand, your other hand gripping the sheets under you. 

It doesn’t take you long to cum, his tongue lapping up every last bit of your orgasm. You’re close to overstimulated when he finally pulls away, face glistening in the low light of the barracks. You drag him up, kissing him deeply. He groans against your mouth, hips pressing against yours. 

You break the kiss to tug his blacks over his head, your hands trailing down his chest, feeling every ridge of muscle. Your fingers trace every little scar, every little mark. He tugs his pants down, kicking them off the end of the bed and your fingers continue lower, wrapping around his thick length. 

He presses his face into your neck, groaning as you work your hand over him. “Kriff, you feel so good.” He murmurs. “Better than I ever could.” 

You smile, parting your legs a bit so he can settle between them. “Isn’t that the point.” 

He leans up on his elbows over you, staring down at you. “You’re going to ruin me forever.” 

“That’s my job.” You say, lining him up. 

You bury your face in his shoulder as he eases into you, moving slowly. It’s a stretch, far bigger than you had anticipated. He pauses once he’s seated inside you, making you feel full and connected. You can feel it, the connection building between you two. There was no going back now. 

He slowly begins to rock his hips, holding onto you. You wrap your arms and legs around him, pulling him as close as you can. You can feel him deep in your very soul, the connection between you two solidifying. You’re two halves of one whole, one soul shared between two bodies. This was what you were meant for, not what the GAR forced you to do, hiding and keeping secrets. 

You wish the war would end. You wish you could steal him away, live a happy life somewhere free of war, free of the GAR, free of everything. A life happy together, where nothing has to be a secret, and you can take as much time as possible. Where you can shout your love for him as loud as you want. 

You use his shoulder to muffle your moans, his own groans muffled by your neck. You move seamlessly, meeting his thrusts. You’re already close again, the tautness of his body telling you he’s close too. 

“Cum for me.” He whispers, hitting that spot inside you over and over again. “Let me feel you.” 

You cum around him, nails digging into his back. He cums with a groan, emptying inside you. You lay still for a moment, simply breathing each other in. 

Kix leans up, kissing your lips before sliding down your body. You watch, leaning up a bit as he settles between your thighs once more. You can feel his cum starting to leak out of you, Kix watching for a moment before he leans in, closing his mouth around your pussy. You breathe out a curse, flopping back on the bed as he cleans you with his mouth. It’s unexpected and obscene as he slurps at your pussy, your skin burning. 

You can feel it, another orgasm approaching. You bite into the skin of your arm, keeping yourself quiet as he sucks at your clit, forcing you over the edge a third time. 

He laps at your folds for a few more seconds before sliding back up your body, gently tugging your arm free from your mouth. He soothes over the mark with his fingers. “You’ll want to clean that.” He says, so easily switching into medic mode. “Human bites can be very dangerous.” 

You roll your eyes. “Yes, doctor.” 

He pauses, eyes widening as he stares down at you. You file that away too. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I kept my promise.” 

You laugh against his lips. “You did. And a bonus.” 

“I did say ‘at least twice’.” He says, sitting up on the bed. “I’d make it a lot more than that if we had time.” 

You grin, sitting up next to him. “Save that for the next shore leave.” 

He smirks, patting your ass as you move to grab your discarded clothes. You wash up in the fresher, trying to make yourself appear like you hadn’t just been fucking a clone in the barracks. Kix puts his armor back on, checking both ways before you step out of the barracks. 

You walk closely, wishing you could hold his hand, but you know you can’t. You silently curse the GAR and their stupid rules. You can’t wait for this war to be over. 

You’re so close to the elevator when your names are called from down the hall, both of you freezing. You turn, eyes widening a bit at the sight of General Skywalker approaching. 

“G-General.” Kix says, standing up straighter. 

General Skywalker looks between you, crossing his arms. “What are you two up to?” 

“I was, uh, having some calibration issues with my helmet.” Kix quickly lies. 

“Uh huh. And you had to fix that in the barracks?” General Skywalker asks, crossing his arms. 

“Well, I needed to make sure it would connect with the others, and it was easier to just check it where they all were gathered, instead of disturbing them and making them come down to the lab.” You nervously explain. You know he doesn’t believe you. You’re absolutely screwed. 

“Right.” The General nods. “That’s very thoughtful of you, not wanting to disturb them.” 

“Yeah,” You nod. “They work so hard, they need all the rest they can get.” 

“I still have some work to do, so we were heading to the mess to grab some caf.” Kix says, trying to explain why you were now leaving together. 

“Very busy.” You nod, trying to make it as believable as possible. 

The General looks between you two for a moment before nodding. “Then I should let you get back to it.” 

You don’t relax, even as you turn to continue down the hall. Your shoulders are still tense, nerves running high. You had tried so hard not to get caught, and then here you were, getting caught by the General of all people. 

“You know,” The General says, making you two stop dead in your tracks. “That’s not a bad excuse.” You both turn, looking over your shoulders at the General. “I might have to use that some day.” 

Taglist:

@stressed-cherry, @6oceansofmoons,  @ladytano420, @spicy-clones, @dangraccoon, @bobaprint, @star-trekker-0013, @stunkbiggu, @endofthexline, @rosechi

[corrieguards]

Confessions

Captain Rex x f!reader Summary: Fives not so accidentally lets the cat out the bag that the captain has a crush on you. Not quite knowing how to deal with this new information, you start avoiding Rex like the plague. He notices and decides to confront you about it. Word count: 2,6k T/W: none A/N: I am, and always will be, a sucker for soft!Rex so I hope you like this self-indulgent fic as much as I liked writing it <3. Also please enjoy the awkward Rex gif. He is too cute and needs to be shared as much as possible. my masterlist

Being assistant medic to the 501st meant you had a lot of dirt on a lot of troopers. The things these men were capable of coming out with when they were under even the lightest of meds never ceased to amaze you. It was like they lost their filter (not that the had much of one to begin with) and would just blurt out whatever came to their mind without a second thought.

You still remember when Tup had come to after being unconscious and admitted in a fit of giggles that you were “The prettiest girl he’d ever met”

Or that one time you’d had to stay overnight with Hardcase in the med bay after giving him some pretty strong pain meds. You’d spent your whole shift listening to him babble on about some girl who was apparently the love of his life and the one thing he couldn't live without. Later on when you were relaying the story to Kix you found out that he wasn’t talking about a girl at all, rather about his favourite DC-17 blaster that he insisted on carrying with him everywhere.

Anyway, the point was that you were used to having all these weird and random things thrown at you by the clones, so much so that you actually found yourself looking forward to hear what they were going to come out with this time. You were prepared for anything these men would throw at you. Or so you thought.

—

You were currently caring for Fives. He’d got knocked out by a detonator during the last mission, so as soon as you saw him start to open his eyes you rushed over to his side.

“Hey there trooper, how’re you feeling?”

He frowned up at you confused “Am I dead? Is this heaven?”

“Nope sorry Fives. You’re still very much alive” You chuckled “Just got a bit knocked up is all, but I’ll have you right in no time”

He groaned as he started to sit up “Are you sure? Could’ve sworn I was dead. You look like an angel right now”

Gently pressing on his shoulder you tried to get him to lay back down. He huffed but complied, letting you push him back and watching as you dipped a cloth in cold water, gently dabbing it on the gash that went from his temple to his jaw.

You talked to him as you worked, a gentle smile on your face “Trust you to almost die and then the first thing you do when you wake up is flirt with your medic. ”

“Oh no no. I wouldn’t dare flirt with the Captains' favorite medic”

He hissed when you pressed a little too hard on his wound. “Ow, what the hell-?

“What did you just say?”

He scowled up at you “I said ow-”

You shook your head at him “No no, before that. What did you say about Rex?”

“About you being his favourite medic?” he said frowning at you confused when you nodded in response

“Yeah, that”

“I thought it was obvious”

Now it was your turn to frown at him “What’s obvious?”

He lets out an incredulous laugh at your obliviousness, only making you more impatient “Fives, you better tell me what the hell you're talking about?”

“Oh come on, everybody knows the captains got a thing for the pretty little medic”

You freeze, eyes quickly dropping back to the cloth in your hand. “Don’t be ridiculous Fives” you mutter, pointedly going back to cleaning his wound.

He grabs your wrist to stop you, a disbelieving look on his face “Wait- Do you really not know?”

“Don’t mess with me, Fives.” you shake you hand free from his grasp “It’s not funny”

He looks taken aback by the coldness in your voice before a look of realisation crosses over his face. “You like him…” he whispers as if it’s the biggest secret in the galaxy

You blush slightly “No I don’t, I just- well I just-” you clear your throat, avoiding his eyes “I just respect him that's all.”

Fives lets out a chuckle “Bullshit. You like him!"

Shushing him quickly, you glance around at the other troopers in the med bay “Not so loud for kriff sake” you whisper at him harshly. This only makes him smile wider, pointing at your face and exclaiming loudly

“You do! You like Rex!”

You grab his finger angrily, shoving it back down “Ok fine I do. Now can you please shut up before the whole GAR finds out"

He smirks but settles down anyway "I knew it"

You scoffed, picking the cloth back up and wetting it again "Sure you did Fives"

"Did too" he replies smugly. You smile, shaking your head and getting back to work cleaning up his cut. After a few moments silence he breaks it again

"He likes you back y'know"

"Mhm I'm sure he does"

He sits up indignantly "It's true!"

"Fives…" you warn quietly

"I'm serious. He talks about you all the time when he's drunk. And he stares at you so often that it's actually kinda embarrassing"

You pulled back, staring into his eyes and searching for any hint that he's messing with you but were surprised to see him completely serious. A very rare sight for Fives.

Swallowing nervously you take in a shaky breath "Does he really like me?"

"Mhm he sure does. Tries to pretend he doesn't but we all know Rex can't keep a secret to save his life"

That gets a laugh out of you because it's so true. It's actually one of the things you love about Rex. The way he stutters and blushes anytime he tries to tell even the smallest of lies is something you find insanely cute and endearing.

You’d liked him for a long time, and who could blame you? This was Rex we were talking about. Handsome blond Captain Rex.

There was no chance of anything happening between you two. You’d accepted that and were content on just admiring him from a distance, occasionally sharing a few conversations, a couple glances from across the room. Never anything more.

But what Fives had just said lit a small flicker of hope in you. Hope was bad, very bad. Hope meant that you couldn't keep ignoring your little crush and pretending it didn't exist.

Hope meant you actually stood a chance.

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts before you could get too carried away in your fantasy.

"It doesn't really matter, it's not like anything could happen between us anyway"

Fives gaze snapped to you "What are you talking about? You two would be so good together"

"You know that's not what I'm talking about." you rolled your eyes at him

"Then what are you talking about?"

" I'm talking about what would happen if someone found out. Rex would be court-martialed Fives, you know what that means right?"

Fives open his mouth to answer you but you cut him off before he had a chance "This is his whole life Fives, I can't expect him to risk everything for me like that."

There was a moment's silence before Fives softly replied "Maybe he'd think you're worth the risk"

—

It had been a couple rotations since your interaction with Fives, and you had been trying desperately to avoid both him and the Captain, so far succeeding in both.

But as if he insisted on not leaving you alone, Fives voice kept echoing in your head. Repeating the same sentences over and over. Even though you tried to ignore it, it kept coming back and haunting you.

"Everybody knows the captains got a thing for the pretty little medic"

As if your thoughts had summoned him, the very same handsome captain you'd just been thinking about strolled through the mess hall door. His eyes doing a quick sweep of the room, giving you a double take upon seeing you and decidedly walking over to your table.

You quickly ducked your head down, panic beginning to rise in your chest. What if Fives had spoken to him? What if he'd told him about you silly little crush? What if-

Rex's shadow looming over you made you look up, eyes instantly locking with his and taking your breath away. Stars, those eyes.

"He stares at you so often that it's actually kinda embarrassing”

"Hey" his voice shook you from your thoughts "Haven't seen you around much lately"

"Yeah…" you chuckled nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear " Um Kix has been keeping me pretty busy the last couple days"

"Oh." He slipped into the seat across from you "Well if he's working you extra y'know I can always stop by and have a chat with him."

"No no" you shake your head quickly "It's fine. Hard work’s what I sign up for after all"

Rex looks at you doubtfully, taking in your tired eyes and dark circles "Are you sure? You look pretty tired"

"I'm fine Rex." You smiled reassuringly "Promise"

"Okay, if you say so… Y'know I'm actually kinda relieved. Thought you'd been avoiding me or something" he chuckled, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

You stiffened and quickly looked back down at the table. His smile flattered. "But you haven't… right?"

Getting ready to answer you took in a shaky breath " Um…" You stalled trying desperately to come up with some excuse but his worried gaze was making it hard to think of anything

Suddenly you're comm chimed, breaking the tension and making you both jump. You stood up quickly "Sorry Rex, I've gotta go. Duty calls"

He looked taken aback as you hurried towards the door.

"We'll catch up some other time" you said over your shoulder. You heard his voice calling your name, only prompting you to walk faster.

Making it out into the corridor you heard your name again, this time louder. The med bay was just around the corner, if you could just make it there before he caught you, you would be fine

Breaking into a soft jog, you panicked when you heard his own heavy footsteps matching your pace. They were much too close for your liking.

The door to the med bay was just a handful of strides away now. You could see it.. C'mon almost there, almost there…

You almost screamed when you felt a hand grab you wrist, halting you and pulling you around to face him.

“He talks about you all the time when he's drunk”

Rex must've seen the panicked look on your face because he quickly released your wrist and took a step back.

"Hey, hey what's going on? Did I do something wrong?" He was slightly out of breath from running after you

"No no of course not" you shook your head before adding quietly "I don't think you could ever do anything wrong"

"Then why are you running away from me meshla?"

The pet name made your stomach flip, taking in a sharp breath and hesitating from a beat before replying

"It's nothing Rex, don't worry"

"Of course I'm gonna worry," he scoffed. "Something is obviously bothering you."

When you didn't reply he sighed and gently took one of your hands in his, holding it loosely

"I just wanna know what I've done so I can fix it," he whispered. Looking up and seeing the hurt in his eyes brought tears to your own.

"He likes you back y'know"

"It's just… something Fives said the other day" you said, keeping your gaze down to hide your embarrassingly watery eyes.

But he saw them anyway, jaw clenching and a hand tightening it's hold on your own "What did he say to you?" he growled protectively "Because if he said something out of line-"

"No no it wasn't anything like that" you answered quickly. A look of relief passed over his face

"Good. But it still something that obviously upset you"

You swallowed nervously before responding "It was about you actually"

Rex stiffened "Me?"

“Tries to pretend he doesn't but we all know Rex can't keep a secret to save his life"

"Yeah…"

"Well what- what about me?"

" He was suggesting that maybe- that you might-"

Rex could see you were struggling to say whatever it was you needed to say so he took a step closer, leaning in towards you "Hey it's ok, you can tell me."

"Maybe he'd think you're worth the risk"

Squeezing your eyes shut, you somehow mustered up a tiny ounce of courage, letting it all out in a rush "He said that you had a crush on me"

Keeping your eyes shut, you heard Rex's breath hitch and felt his hands tighten their hold on your own. After a few moments silence you slowly peeked your eyes open, heart beating fast as you took in the man in front of you.

He looked like he'd seen a ghost. "Well… I- I don't really know what to say…"

Nodding you tried to hide your disappointment by looking down at your feet. Of course he didn't like you, how could you ever think he did

You bit your lip as tears began brimming in your eyes How could you be so fucking stupid and start to let yourself believe that Captain Rex could possibly like you, a lowly medic.

"It's ok" you whispered, blurry eyes focusing on the ships shiny floor "Don't worry I knew Fives was just messing with me"

That really broke Rex out of his trance " What do you mean?"

"I mean of course you don't actually like me, why would you?" You replied, laughing sadly.

Rex frowned, genuinely confused "What are you talking about?"

When you didn't answer Rex called your name softly, making you look up at him, his breath hitching when he saw your teary eyes

"Oh meshla come 'ere" he pulled you into his arms, your head nuzzling into his neck and his hands finding their home around your waist.

"Listen to me carefully" he whispered into your hair "don't you ever, ever say that again."

You smiled into his neck but he wasn't finished "Of course I like you meshla, have since the moment i met you. How could I not love you when you're so fucking perfect?"

He pulled back and you immediately looked down shyly, avoiding his gaze. Calling your name, he gently lifted your chin with the crook of his finger, making you look him in the eyes

"I want to be able to call you mine"

You could feel you carefully built walls slowly falling down at his confession. Every second you spent this close to Rex another piece of them crumbling.

"But… what if someone finds out Rex. What then? How much are you willing to risk for this?"

He lent in impossibly closer, foreheads touching and lips brushing against yours as he spoke

"For you? Everything"

The last stone in your wall tumbling down, you closed the gap between you, enclosing your lips with his. He sighed into your mouth kissing you back hard, months of bottled up feelings pouring into this one single kiss.

Your hands travelled over his chest, one sneaking up behind his neck and into his short buzzed hair. He growled appreciatively, his own hands already grabbing your waist and pulling you into him, clutching onto you like a man drowning.

Breathless you both pulled back just far enough to catch your breath. He chuckled, nuzzling his nose into yours as you smiled softly.

"I love you Rex"

Your confession lingered in the limited air between you, his eyes flickering down to your lips before he gave them a gentle peck

"Love you more, meshla"

----

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[knightprincess]

Scars (Commander Wolffe x Jedi Reader) Part 1

Words: 2.7k Warning: Implied injury - stubborn, suspicious Wolffe - Bit of fluff Pronouns Use: She/Her - (Y/N)

Everything seemed normal enough when (Y/N) arrived at the temporary military base the 104th and Master Plo had set up. The command center had the perfect tactical advantage, a view of the battlefield, but at a safe distance, it couldn't be easily attacked. A perimeter had been set up, with an airfield, ensuring all those coming and going would be safe. Next to the commander center were the barracks, mess hall, medbay, and weapons depo, all perfectly organized. 

Plo had met (Y/N) at her designated landing bay; he greeted his former padawan in a similar manner to his warm greeting to Ahsoka. Full of care, fatherly and warm. His words to follow the same and filled with gentleness and wise advice. Almost as if he knew there would be an instant coldness between his former Padawan and his trusted Commander. After all, Wolffe had made his destain almost hatred for the Children of Dathomir plain, and (Y/N) would be the first Night Sister he would truly be dealing with since Ventress had taken his eye. 

The hours after her arrival hadn't been much trouble either. Wolffe hadn't been seen, normally preoccupied with other tasks that come with being Commander. On the other hand, the other troopers had greeted her with friendliness and curiosity. Boost, Comet, and Sinket had been the first three to approach, neither of them being afraid to voice their questions or try their hand at flirting. One by one, others came by with a hello and the intention of introducing themselves; neither one acted like she was any different from the other Jedi they worked with. Instead, the one to point out her obvious Dathomirian features was the Civvi Medic assigned to the 104th; the other Wolffe seemed to avoid like the plague or growled if they had to interact. Although to be fair, the petite woman did seem to avoid the commander just as much, normally shaking with fear and likely unspoken judgment when attending to him. 

When the afternoon was slowly turning to dusk, (Y/N) left the safety of the perimeter, hoping to find a quiet area nearby to meditate; being extremely attuned to the force, the unheard voices were loud in the base, as were the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. (Y/N) clumsiness had led her to discover the unstable ground, leading to cave chasms that went down for miles; the darkness seemed to swallow everything that fell down it, even the glow sticks meant to offer light.

Making a mental note of the undesirable drop and likely death trap hidden within the endless shadows (Y/N) found a flat rocky surface to sit upon; there, she shifted until she was comfortable and began to meditate or attempt it. Within minutes of finding peaceful mindfulness, she had sensed another heading her way, navigating the minefield of unstable ground and dropping to uncertainty. Upon realizing the approaching intruder wasn't someone she recognized, she instinctively reached for her lightsabers, prepared to defend herself if needed, although she had hoped it wouldn't get that far. 

As if sensing something was off, (Y/N) opened her eyes, surveying the area in her proximity, although she did not see anything out of the ordinary. The rocks from the nearby cliff rushed down the drop from the wind left behind by the passing ships; the land around seemed to stretch for miles, and the droid army seemed to be struggling to rebuild their own commander center far into the distance. A planned surprise attack was unlikely to be on their agenda just yet.

"Careful, the ground ..." started (Y/N), finally seeing who the intruder was. Commander Wolffe. His low growls had cut off her line of thought and subsequent words. His stiff shoulders and crossed arms over his chest made it clear he wasn't in the mood to converse with her. Although it was rather obvious, he followed her. The question was whether that was entirely out of concern, suspicion, or something else. 

"You left the base," he stated, his voice direct and to the point, although void of all emotion, matching his cold demeanor.

"Well noticed," (Y/N) replied, failing to stop the sarcasm before it could fall from her lips. Although she held back the chuckle that threatened to follow it upon sensing the eye roll, Wolffe sent her from beneath his modified helmet. 

"Why?" asked the commander, although frustration and annoyance rang through his voice this time, once again suggesting he'd literally rather be anywhere but in her presence. 

"To meditate," she commented, returning the annoyance and frustration presented to her, although the Jedi Knight at least tried to keep a neutral expression, even in the face of judgment and unwarranted hostility. "I'm not fretting with the enemy, Commander. I just needed quiet; the emotions and voices can be overwhelming." 

"That's what your quarters are for," he uttered in a quick response, drawing an eye roll from (Y/N) as she climbed down from her position on the flat lump of rocks. Refusing to utter another word, she began to walk away from the Commander, further away from the base, hoping to find another quiet place to continue her meditation. A sigh quickly escaped her upon sensing Wolffe was once again following her, although this time only a few feet behind.  

"Woah!" yelled Wolffe upon the ground, cracking and giving away like thin ice the moment he stomped on it. He expected to fall helpless into the darkness, but instead, he'd stopped in mid-air, just dangling. The force someone was using the force to prevent him from falling to certain doom. Immediately, Wolffe presumed it was General Plo, the ever-caring fatherly figure. Confusion took over when Wolffe looked up to see (Y/N) trying her hardest to use her power to bring him to safety, a concentrated look painted on her features, determination mixed in. "It's cracking," called the Commander upon noticing the ground beneath her about to give way. 

But by the time his words reached her, both of them were falling. All Wolffe could do was flay his limps and yell out as the darkness swallowed him. He hit several rocks and other hard surfaces on the way down before the fall ended with a loud, wet splash into the freezing waters of an underground lake. He soon climbed out of the water, resting on the rocky bank, looking up with the hope of seeing daylight, only to be met with the unyielding darkness that seemed to go on forever. With a heavy, frustrated sigh, he began to assess the damage to his armor. The chest plate had been cracked, and a shoulder and forearm plate shattered to the point of being unless. 

Just as he was about to continue, his attention was drawn to the lightsaber lying by the rocks of the bank close by. The hilt was mainly black with silver decoration; it appeared damaged and stained with something. Just as Wolffe was about to question who it belonged to, his heart sank upon recalling the ground cracking. 

"Nightsister," called Wolffe, a prang of guilt flooding him as he regretted his refusal to learn her name. "Nightsister," he called again, pushing the fear away when no answer came. However, that sudden wave of fear grew upon noticing the lightsaber hilt was stained with blood. The realization hit him: she was injured and had been by selflessly trying to save him from the fall. Ignoring his own pain and obvious injuries, Wolffe got to wobbly feet and slowly began to shuffle forward across the bank in the hopes of seeing the Jedi who'd tried to prevent his fall. 

He hoped she was ignoring him; after all, he'd ignore someone calling him if they treated him as he'd done with her, but the more he searched, the more he called out Nightsister in an attempt to locate her. The feeling of dread gripped him. What if she wasn't ignoring him? Could she be injured? Was she even in the same part of the cave as him? Did she even fall down the chasm in the first place? 

"She's not in the cave with you, Wolffe," muttered Wolffe, his voice as cold as the lake he'd landed in. As he began to shiver, about to give up, the commander noticed something. A trail of blood, it was fresh; someone had landed there and was trying to hide, injured. "Nightsister," called Wolffe again, this time softer than before, quieter as if trying to convey he wasn't a threat despite his previous demeanor and actions. "I'm not going to hurt you," he called, realizing if she was injured, she likely believed whomever she was trapped with was trying to harm her. He'd been the same after Ventures had slashed out his eye. Even General Plo was considered an enemy in his mind. Anyone with a lightsaber had been for a short time. 

"Wolffe," came a quiet voice, no louder than a whisper. But in the quietness of the cave, it was loud enough for the Commander to hear to locate her. Hearing his name fall from her lips only made his guilt grow. She knew his name and took the time to learn it instead of calling him by his identification number or his rank of Commander. And he'd refused to learn anything about her after learning she was a Child of Dathomir. "Are you hurt?" she asked, her voice heavy with deep breaths filled with pain; she was hurt but refused to admit it. 

"Not as bad as you, Ca'tra," answered Wolffe, grimacing as he moved to sit beside her, holding her lightsaber out as if to return it. Slowly, he surveyed the extent of her injuries, almost horrified. Several joints had been dislocated, a large gash stretched across her side, and a nasty laceration now adorned the side of her head. There was little doubt she'd suffered broken bones as well. 

"Sorry about your landing," (Y/N) whispered. "It was either that or impaled on the rock spires," she added, lifting a shaky hand to point in the general direction of the spires in question. "There's a small med kit in my pack," she instructed, being thankful she'd been wise enough to have a pack ready for emergencies. Inside was a medical kit, water, ration bars, glow sticks, other forms of light, and another communicator in case the one attached to her arm was damaged. 

"Stay awake, Ca'tra," voiced Wolffe, softness beginning to take over, as was the worry and concern. In the minutes since finding her, her eyes had glazed over, and she was slowly losing consciousness. "Talk to me," he added, reaching for the pack and its scattered contents, a renewed sense of determination. She saved him twice in a matter of minutes, with little regard for her own safety or well-being. She suffered because of it. He had to repay the debt he felt he owed her. 

"Ca'tra," (Y/N) tiredly responded, confusion just about present through the pain. "What does it mean?" she asked, looking to Wolffe with glazed-over eyes, a grimace quickly flashing across her features upon pain tormenting her further. 

"Night sky," admitted Wolffe, deeming it be better to call her that than Nightsister. Especially now when he was beginning to wonder if calling her by Nightsister was offensive in some way. "I don't know your name," he added, shame washing through his whispered voice. Swearing under his breath when he dropped the contents of the medkit, his hands shaking so much from the cold. In his rushed attempt to collect all the items, he hadn't noticed (Y/N) reach for the stem cell injections. Although she did hold out the bacta gel 

"(Y/N)," she spoke in response, not arguing when the call of sleep as it became too persistent to fight, too strong to ignore. She hadn't been given the chance to say she liked the small nickname. The small kindness meant something to her, even if it didn't mean anything to Wolffe. 

"(Y/N), wake up," called Wolffe upon grabbing her shoulders to shake her. The shakes had been little more than light nudges, hoping to prevent her from falling asleep, but gotten rougher upon the Commander realizing she'd already fallen for the lure of the peaceful oblivion. "You're not getting away from me that easy, Ca'tra," he added, remembering he had the bacta gel. Upon applying a generous amount to her wounds, he turned his attention to his own and his previous task of assessing the damage to his armor. 

"Little (Y/N), Commander Wolffe," spoke the wise and welcome voice of Master Plo, concern flooding his otherwise fatherly voice. Wolffe quickly grabbed (Y/N)'s arm, puzzled by how the small communications device was still intact, let alone working. "(Y/N), Wolffe, can either of you hear me?" asked Plo, his voice fuzzy now, as if he'd moved away from the area. 

"I read you, General," spoke Wolffe, relief ringing in his own voice, mixing with his concern and pain. 

"Are you okay? Is (Y/N) with you?" questioned Plo, likely already realizing the ground had given way. Although where was the question? Once again, Wolffe focused on looking up, hoping to see some sort of light that would say how far down they were, whether from the sky so far above them or the light of a rescue ship. But again, was greeted with nothing but empty darkness. 

"We're both pretty banged up; I would have been worse off if she hadn't pushed me out the way," admitted the Commander, thankful for her selflessness but still feeling guilty. Even more so upon the realization hitting him, she'd put herself in far more danger by forcing him away from the spires and towards the freezing lake. "She's currently unconscious and needs immediate medical attention," he added with haste, once again reaching to gently shake her with the hopes she'd wake up, again being met with no response. 

"Keep the communicator on; we'll use it to track your position," stated Plo, the authority now ringing in his voice, likely to mask the growing concern and worry for his commander and former padawan. 

"Come on, Ca'tra, wake up. Help is coming," started Wolffe, finally removing his helmet and allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim light of the glow sticks. Finally, he noticed his visor had been broken during the fall and a gash towards the bottom of the scraped helmet. "Why did you save me? Why would you risk your own life like that? I'm just a clone; only my brothers and General Plo would care if something happened to me," he mumbled, not hearing the ow to escape (Y/N)'s lips or even notice she'd barely regained consciousness. 

"Wrong. I care," she whispered with a broken voice, startling the Commander trapped with her. 

"But ... but I was cold to you ... harsh ... unfair," stammered Wolffe as he attempted to put his scrambled thoughts into words and overcome the shock; not only had she heard his words but answered with the last thing he'd expected to hear. She cared despite everything. 

"I know," replied (Y/N), trying her hardest to show her understanding. "I understand why you were quick to judge me. Fear can be cruel even to the toughest of men. I do not blame you for it. No one does. That was your way of dealing with the trauma, to ensure it wouldn't happen again," she replied, recalling her similar response to trauma as a child. She'd been incorporated into the order the same year Anakin Skywalker had joined the Jedi. She was ignored and judged with fear because of something she had no control over. 

She'd lost everything, and just when she had settled into what would be her new life. Things had gotten worse; someone had taken her from the temple and hurt her. Someone she should have been able to trust. Her rescuers had been far kinder. A pair of renowned bounty hunters, Cad Bane and Jango Fett. They saw her as the scared and broken child she was rather than the threat she'd been treated as. 

"I lost trust in the council a long time ago. Blamed myself for what happened," she breathed in response; a pained chuckle escaped her lips upon seeing the confusion written across Wolffe's bruised features. "If it wasn't for the efforts of Master Plo and a few others. I likely wouldn't be civil with the majority of them," admitted (Y/N), although refusing to relive what happened all those years ago by talking about it. Not that she could. Chancellor Palpatine had locked all files about the incident and her life before the Jedi. Reasoning it was for her own safety and to prevent what happened repeating again. 

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[paperback-rascal]

Hi 👉👈

I love your "Kix the cf99 medic" and it made me think about writing a fic about Wrecker going to a casual medical checkup and the medic/doctor/Kix almost has an aneurysm because of how many untreated injuries he has that healed on their own, BUT

I don't have a lot of medical knowledge, so do you have any suggestions of what stuff could be wrong with him besides crudely healed bone breaks, almost ripped tendons or badly scarred/burned stiff skin?

First of all - I hope you're going to tag me once that fanfiction it's done! You have no idea how I crave The Bad Batch and Kix artworks/stories! It is a void!

Second of all - I'm not a medical professional nor I'm in any shape or form related by no means with medicine/medical science. My whole "medical knowledge" is bunch of Wikipedia articles, one book about plagues (that I still didn't finish) and one civil defense course book from my high school days... and maybe couple of youtube videos.

With that in mind... (rest of the answer is under the cut/read more)

I don't mind all of the "crudely healed bone breaks", "almost ripped tendons" and "badly burned flesh" stories. I know they seem like obvious, tried-and-true formulas but I can't say 'no' to a well written, entertaining story - it's almost the same feeling like drinking a good cup of coffee - it never gets old! So if you (or anyone, really) feel the premise is not good enough... well, it is good as any other starting point!

However if you ask me what would I consider an interesting approach to a scenario in which "a routine check-up goes wrong", I think that the most 'oomph!' would be a domino effect - starting with a minor complain that later turns out to be a symptom of a multi-layered issue of one neglected thing after the other that wasn't done properly the first time/was overlooked - because let's face it - that how most medical emergencies starts and it is now getting fixed because someone (either a patient or a health professional) just pressed further to find the root cause. With The Bad Batch it could be especially interesting since they most likely have to fend for themselves during/right after missions so a lot of shortcuts and misinterpretation of data could be part of the issue.

Positioning Kix as "outsider looking in" could also be interesting starting point - Is he a stubborn medic going against the grain despite Clone Force 99/other medics telling him "that's how it always has been" or because he is an "outsider' (and most likely took the SW!equivalent of Hippocratic Oath?) so The Bad Batch feel more comfortable to confide to him their issues?

Also we all assume the issues have to be... grand in nature but a LOT of them that later wreak havoc starts small - an untreated ear infection, bad/rotten tooth, crooked/uneven nasal septum, allergies, etc. in the Batch's case they can be overlooked simply because "oh look! A shrapnel! Let's put Bacta on it" or by a simple assumption e.g. "Wrecker is huge so his muscles have to hurt due to his accelerated growth" or "of course his blood tests are off the charts - he is a defective clone after all" or even the other way "of course he doesn't have XYZ, it's all in his head/he is faking it, he is a CLONE after all and none of the clone troopers have such issues".

There are countless possibilities! So all in all it all boils down to - how comfortable are you in writing medical situations?

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The ask is in relation to this tag -> [LINK] <-

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STAR WARS: The Clone Wars © George Lucas/ Dave Filoni/ LucasFilm/ Disney

[tesalicious2]

Kit Fisto's Scuba Troopers

Lets go! (halfway through this became OC time)

Monnk was reconditioned once when he was 3 standard because Dred Priest was trying to get at the Mandalorian training Monnk (they were basically father and son, the Mandalorian giving Monnk his name and his sea dragon on his armor)

He was a very playful and joyful child until the reconditioning, the old personality is still there but is rarely shown anymore

After Monnks reconditioning, he didn't remember how to do anything so all of his fellow CCs and Scuba troopers retaught him so he doesn't fall behind, thanks to them he wasn't decommisioned

Kit Fisto had an incredibly hard time reading Monnk at first, feeling a blank wall in the Force but flickers of brightness

Kit's playful attitude when off duty helped bring out some of Monnk's old personality and Monnk will now crack smiles and make the occasional joke

Kit finds out abut the reconditioning after a hard battle that ended with Monnk in the bacta tank and it was marked in his file

The Scuba Troopers mostly take after Monnk's old personalility, being very playful and pranks are common in the Acclimator

Though, they can get serious very quickly and they are masters at fighting underwater

They have an extra set of armor, they underwater gear, while also having to maintain their snow, sand, and regular gear

Their CMO, Plague, known for treating infections and his harsh and constant anger. Do not make him mad or play any pranks in his Medbay. He is apart of the scariest batch of medics to come out of Kamino

He has/can/will scream at his patients (including generals)

(These include Sacrifice of the 104th, Agony of the Corries, Reaper of the Marine Corps, and Suffering of the 327th. They were one of the first batches of medics and the original Mandalorian Trainer was very hands on. Their attitude comes from her, she adores them the most.)

When meeting his batch, Plague is much more chill and can be seen smiling

If you want to get on his good side, you get one chance (your first visit that isnt the standard 'this is the medbay, i'm here to help')

If you come in on your own and are honest about what happened he will treat you nicely (no screaming, just silent treating of injuries)

If you had to be dragged in, complain, down play your injuries, don't say all of them, try to worm out, make excuses, lie about why you're there, kiss his ass (not so much but this is usually accompanied by any previous thing on this list), or he finds you before you come to him, you've lost and no longer get his good graces

so far, only one shiny has his good graces and is absolutely his favorite

Cancer was a fresh off Kamino shiny who was quiet and clearly uncomfortable with his batchmates being in another battalion. He came in two weeks after picking him up with a freshly bleeding slice in his face from where he fell in the mess and cut himself of a bench corner

He was warned against going to the med bay but went alone, Plague found something in his chest when they met (affection?) and was taken in by the shiny apologizing and explaining what happened. Cancer made no fuss and listened very well, when Plague checked on him in a week, his injury was gone!

Cancer made Plague speechless and ten minutes later Cancer was changed to a medic track with a new Ori'vod

Cancer excelled in the medic track and quickly took after Plague, however he didn't have his anger instead doing the "you're dissapointing me, i thought you were better than that" mixed with baby sad eyes which is somehow worse

Originally his name was Fungus (dubbed by others), because he grew on Plague quickly. Plague offered the name Cancer to which the newly dubbed Cancer hugged Plague

Plague moved Cancer to his room, since as CMO he gets private quarters

Cancer is completely aware of the favoritism and totally takes advantage (he may be a shiny, but Plague has taught him to guilt trip so hard.)

Plague has introduced Cancer to his batch and they adore him, Cancer became the most untouchable clone in the whole army

Due to the nature of their battalion, the medics can fix simple injuries and surgeries underwater and their belts have cloth loops to slide medical tools into

The ARCs can't wear their kamas or pauldrons underwater so their armor is painted to mimic the shapes of them, made up of swirls or wavy lines, their normal gear does have kamas and pauldrons

Kit is very bad at picking who to make ARCs because if he had his way, everyone would get the training

To make up for this, the ARCs teach much of what they learn to the regular troopers, though they are all rather adept at adapting to fit the situation

It is common for Kit’s ship to be covered in shells, dead coral, animal bones, and shiny rocks

All of the troopers have some love for the water and the species in them and after the war, many choose to become marine scientists, dive instructors, or underwater cinematographers

[panda-writing]

Fives Lives: Bad Batch Pilot Episode AU

Dividers by: @ saradika @ freesia-writes / @ lornaka

Note: So it got kinda long...

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Content Warnings: death mention, mention of medical procedures/experiments, loss, imprisonment, lack of sleep/exhaustion, mention or reprogramming aka messing with mind. (I think that's all of them)

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The sound of the blaster went off.

He felt the searing pain of being shot as he looked at the hole in his chestplate

Falling to the ground...

Getting shot.

Dying.

That was the easy part. Why was that the easy part?

Maybe because everything after that made it harder..

He at least thought he had. If what he had felt wasn't dying.. He wasn't sure what was.

"Call for help! We need a medic!"

He remembered what, at the time he was certain was death as he grew weaker and weaker as his ori'vod help him in his arms.

"Stay with me Fives. Fives!"

He heard Rex beg for his life as he was fighting the urge to pass out. He remembered as Rex clung to his body.

He looked into the face of Commander Fox. "Don't do it trooper! Don't do it!"

He panicked. He couldn't let Palatine kill him before the truth got out.

His Vod shot him down. Quickly.

Now.. He had the feeling that Fox was under orders. The chip.

She drugged him. He wouldn't have ever done that if she hadn't drugged him. To this moment he was filled with regrets.

He woke up. The recent events, fresh on his mind.

Wait... How long had it been?

Wearing the blacks. His wound healed almost..

A brief sense of security until his mind came into focus. He lay on a medical table.

Kamino.

Ever since he woke up... It was constant experiments, it felt like... Done by Nala Se, mainly. Or spending the day in a cell.

He enjoyed the cell more.

How long had he been here? Every day was the same. It was moments like these he had to wonder if being killed on Umbara would've been better. At least then, it was because he did his duty.

The nightmares started.

Not too long after the first day he remembered. The experiments. The poking and prodding.. It now just freaked him out.

There was no comfort in any of this.

He was the last of his batch, surely they expected better of him.

He had been. He did the right thing. But now.. All he was seen as was the clone that went rogue then insane and tried to murder their political leader... Despite what the truth really was.

He had suspicions Nala Se enjoyed the suffering this caused him. Her anger and disdain as he tried to uncover the truth before his 'death' the drugging.. He almost undermined her. And the Kaminoans, they wouldn't like that much. Was this his payback?

The nightmares still went strong. Constantly reliving the death of Echo, his twin... The massacre on Umbara.. How he had been hunted down like a terrorist. And how no one believed a word he said.

He had a break once. It lasted for a little while... Until Nala Se found out about it. It was a research assistant to her. A sister. Omega.

She would come in often. And they just talked about anything. He'd tell her about the war if she asked. She'd tell him about her day.

But eventually he was moved somewhere else in the cloning facility. And then the visits stopped.

He knew when the war ended. And it was more than just the feeling he got

He noticed the shock troopers passing through. And then he noticed clones occasionally moving past his cell, now Shock troopers on duty.

He knew.

He had been right about the fears plaguing his mind. Now that he wasn't completely kept from everything and everyone.. He assumed this meant the worst.

They didn't consider what he knew a threat anymore. He had lost.

He noticed the difference in the troopers around him. They were all under control of those chips and there was nothing he could do to save them...

They weren't completely robotic it seemed. As they had things to say about him. The shock troopers knew who he was. Some of them might've been in the group that was sent to kill or arrest him. There was no real way of telling.

For Rex.. He hoped he had either been able to stop what was happening, get out of that situation... Or have died before his free will was taken like everyone else.

The clones around him made their opinions known. The words hurting more than before.

"Defect."

"Bad Batcher."

Back in his domino days. They had also called him and his batchmates bad batchers at times.

But this was different. Maybe because the implications were steeper now. Now he was looked at as a traitor instead of the soldier he once was. Every day he spent fighting for the republic... Washed away just like that. Forgotten.

The troopers guarding his cell were talking some shit. Not like the rogue clone was ever gonna escape, right?

Or maybe they just didn't care he was right there, thinking even less of him.

"I heard they're gonna be messing in his head to try and fix the crazy."

"They'll ship him out to some top secret research facility."

"If it works they'll put him back on the line of duty."

"If not Tarkin'll order him decommissioned or killed, I bet."

"If he wants to live he'd better shape up-"

Suddenly their comms beeped.

"Clone force 99 has escaped, we're supposed to meet up with CT-9904 to cut off their escape!"

They grabbed their weapons before running out of the room.

He had to wonder about this Clone Force 99. If they were going after them.. Maybe they had went against the Chancellor too.

If this was the case he hoped they actually escaped instead of being stuck in a situation much like his own.

On a side upfront.. He looked ahead at his ARC gear. It had been saved. Before he didn't understand why.. But now he had.

It usually served as a little... Miniscule sort of comfort. It was his past and the only thing he had ever truly owned. It was the armor he painted alongside his twin.

A reminder of how he made it to ARC Trooper. The dream they all shared, butost hadn't gotten to see... So he promised himself he'd live it for them. He had to get out of here one day...

When they tried to move him, he was gonna fight like haran. For his squad.. And for all of his brothers.

He had tried to escape, fight his way out many times. The cell fought him back, making him weaker than when he first attempted it.

He was leaning against the bottom wall of his cell. His head was tilted back, he was trying to rest some from all of the exhaustion. His knees against his chest, and his arms crossed around them.

Suddenly he heard voices near the door of the room. The Shock troopers had forgotten to shut it.

"Normally we wouldn't even consider sticking our neck out for a reg like this... But I hear he's a special case."

"They also said he went against order 66, but that seems unlikely because according to records.. he's been here a while."

"I heard shock troopers talking about reprogramming him. When we were in the cell."

"If we don't get him out..."

"We'd better hurry if we're gonna get him out and back to the ship before the shocks find us."

They walked in. He could tell they were clones, but they definitely didn't look like any he knew.

One had goggles and the other was even more different. His arm was a scomp link and he had ports in his head along with a pale ish skin tone.

He took notice of them. They weren't wearing their armor, but instead they were in their blacks.

These must've been the escaped clones the shock troopers were talking about.. He had also been in his, that was standard as a Kaminoan Prisoner.

He took notice as the pale one walked in slowly, to a stop.. his eyes were fixated on something. Fives turned his head, and noticed him looking at his armor intently.

The one in googles was looking at something on a datapad. Then suddenly he looked between the other one and himself, a look of realization..? was crossing his face.

Was the pale one.. from the 501st? Did he recognize him? He seemed in disbelief upon looking at his armor. Stopping in his tracks.

The clone wearing goggles noticed the distraction and tapped the pale one on the shoulder.

"I understand this might be a complicated situation for you. But you must remain focused if all of us are to leave alive."

"I.. Yeah I got it. Just this belonged to... Nevermind. We better hurry."

"You'll have to scomp in. Once we break him out, they'll know if we don't divert their attention. He appears to be on high priority."

They rushed to a terminal, center room.

One typed away ferviously as the one beside him, plugged in and twisted against the gears with the scomp in his arm.

"Got it Tech."

Tech pressed a button.

"We don't have a lot of time. If you want to get out without your brain being reconstructed, you'll need to grab your things and push on."

Fives hopped to his feet, though the exhaustion all over his body was still evident. He moved over to his old gear.

"Hey, uh thanks for saving me. Haven't been out for a while." He was placing the armor plates over his blacks.

"It's what we do.. And really no one deserves to be stuck like that." The pale one said before turning around.

He was in shock, staggering backwards despite his mechanical limbs.

Fives sent a glance upwards after securing his kama.

He looked at the trooper ahead of him. Something felt familiar... Then he looked at his eyes.

He held his breath..

He didn't move, looking ahead.

Echo

He didn't blink, scared he was hallucinating it all.

Scared he would just disappear...

Tech noticed the silence, he knew why. He could understand it from a psychological standpoint.. But they had more pressing concerns.

"We are running out of time. Hunter can't wait on us forever when everyone on Kamino will be looking for us."

Fives shook his head, to snap out of it. It took Echo a little longer to regain focus at first, but he did. They were soldiers.. It's what was required of them.

"Right." Fives finished securing his armor and placed his helmet on his head.

He never thought he'd wear it again. He never thought he'd see Echo again either... The day was full of surprises. Despite the overall horrible... This was good. Though he did feel guilty for thinking it.

"Got a blaster Echo?"

"Back with our gear in the hangar bay."

Fives tossed one of his DC-17s to his vod'ika. Echo caught it.

Tech pressed a button on the datapad.

"Now we move. The cell's alarm is triggered."

They rushed out, hoping to make it back before Crosshair realized they were missing.

Upon reaching the hangar, Echo handed Fives back his blaster before moving to the trunks of gear to find his own.

"Fives?" Omega said surprised as she saw him. She hasn't seen him in months. She wasn't even sure he was still here.

"Yeah kid, it's me. It's good to see you."

She hugged him from the side as batch 99 started and finished grabbing their gear. He returned the hug briefly. Echo and Hunter looked over at them curiously.

"Haven't seen Crosshair over here yet." Hunter finished gearing up.

"Omega, keep with Echo and The Reg..."

Fives moved next to Echo and the crate he had just finished grabbing from.

"Tech, get the ship fired up, we might need a quick escape."

Tech nodded and moved for the ship, readying it.

"And Wrecker, with me. We're finding Crosshair."

"You've got it Sarge."

Omega picked up Wrecker's Lula. As she stood on her feet, she noticed the bay doors.

"I think he had the same idea." Omega said pointing to the bay doors, as they slowly opened.

Fives set his blasters to stun as he ducked behind the crate with Echo. The others also ducked.

A squad of shock troopers came rushing in, their carbines were pointed in their direction.

Crosshair carried a sniper rifle as he walked in.

Hunter stood up, walking to the center as he looked at Crosshair.

Wrecker, Echo and Fives peered over their crates.

"Is that...Crosshair?"

Crosshair stared ahead at Fives, but quickly returned his attention to Hunter.

"Best surrender. Sargeant."

"Turn in the reg. Make it...easy on yourself."

"Are you out of your mind?!" Hunter exclaimed

"We should've killed that Jedi. You disobeyed orders."

"I did what I thought was right!" He defended

"How's that working out for you? Now you're throwing in with a reg, a traitorous one at that and... A kid?"

"Now Surrender."

Hunter looked back at the men. Wrecker put his helmet on his head and readied his weapon. Echo was aiming, and the ARC Trooper nodded his head as he took aim.

He returned his look to Crosshair. "Is that an order?"

Crosshair smirked. "Heh. I guess it is."

"Well.. I guess I'm disobeying that one too."

The tension was high as soldiers stared upon each other, daring the other to make the first move.

The silence. Loud.

Crosshair's expression narrowed, his finger inched closely on the trigger of his hand held pistol and sniper rifle.

Then he fired a shot.

Hunter ducked in time and it had hit the side of the ship.

It was quick to become a firefight.

In the end, the batch escaped mainly unscathed, except for Wrecker who had been shot by Crosshair.

Echo was currently tending to him. And this was giving Fives the entire world time to think.

But thinking.. Was all he had since he was in that cell. He was tired of thinking.

Omega had shot the blasters out of Crosshair's hands. It was a very impressive feat for an untrained clone.

Hunter walked over to Fives. Even Tech would easily read that which appeared all over his face.

"Uh thanks... For covering us back there." He started an awkward conversation.

"It's what we do.." He said a hazy focus.

"What's on your mind uh...-"

"Fives."

Hunter chuckled briefly.

"What is it?"

"ARC-5555?" He looked up at his 5 tattoo after he spoke.

"Uh yeah?"

"That's a little on the nose, isn't it?"

"Says the guy who has batchmates named Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker." Fives

Okay, he had him there.

"So... Uh.. Heard you tried to kill the Chancellor.."

"That's just the version clones were told about me. Because the truth... Would've stopped this from ever happening."

Fives held his palm against the side wall as he sighed.

"You mean order 66?"

"It was much worse... But that was a big part of it."

He looked back at Echo, fending off Wrecker who complained about the medical attention.

"It's why they pushed the crazy clone narrative so hard. Because if I appeared insane... No one would believe me."

"And it worked."

"They expect all of us to be unthinking droids... To follow every order without a single question? But.. That's not who I am. They weren't expecting it, I suppose."

"They weren't prepared for me to investigate when things were clearly not right... It was unsettling to them. They had to take the nuclear option to protect the skeletons in their closets."

"You defied their 'programming?' too?" Hunter asked

"Good soldiers follow orders.. But the best ones know when not to." Fives said

"That type of thinking usually gets you labelled as a defect."

"Eh, I'm used to it. My squad and I, we've been hearing that one since were cadets." Fives said

"Maybe they were right. But I figure the way things are going, that's how you know you're in the right."

"Conforming to the standards of the rest.. They are basically unthinking droids. I wouldn't want that either."

"You know you might be stuck with us for a while, considering the move we just made." Hunter said

"You're all brothers. It's more than I had back when I was imprisoned on Kamino."

"And you don't care that we're not.. Well, regs?" Hunter asked

"Why should I care about that?"

"Don't examine me! I'm not a computer!" They heard Wrecker yell out.

They looked over at him, diverting their attention.

"This will just take a second."

Hunter uncrossed his arms, he glanced at Fives before they began to walk over.

"Get that thing away from me!"

Echo looked past, seeing Fives again. Well... Now was as good of a time to address this as any.

Fives looked over at him. There was a sigh in relief.

Omega silently observed them. Having already known they were batch mates.

Wrecker, Tech and Hunter were busy talking about Cross hair, until they realized Echo wasn't part of the conversation. He walked over to Fives.

"Did you miss me?" Echo asked, breaking the long silence as he reached his twin's location.

Fives didn't say anything as he quickly pulled him into a tight hug.

Echo took a breath, returning the hug with his one good arm.

"It's really you... I can't believe it."

They caught the attention of the others, the only ones not appearing to be confused were Tech and Omega.

"I'm so sorry.. I never should have-"

"It's not your fault. I never blamed you." Echo said

"I left you.."

"No. You followed orders."

"Look where following orders has gotten clones." He sighed, blame on himself...

"What happened?" They asked at the same time after a silence.

They let go finally.

"Fives.. Rex told me you were killed. In fact you're listed as legally dead."

"How are you-"

"I don't know. There's.. things I just don't remember." He was honest, his mind was hazy at times

"You recognized me back on Kamino. Before anyone else ever called me Echo."

"Like I would ever not recognize you Ech'ika?"

"What.. Happened.. After.. You know." Fives said

"I take it they used to know each other." Hunter said off hand

"I would certainly hope so, being batchmates and all." Tech replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world

"What?" Hunter asked

His eyes were glued to the datapad.

"CT-27-5555 and CT-1409 were the last remaining members of Domino Squad, both making it to ARC Trooper status shortly after helping The Republic take a win during the Battle of Kamino. Report by Taun We.."

"Domino Squad consisted of members Hevy, Cutup, Droid-Bait, Echo and Fives. Three of the Five were killed on their first mission at the Rishi Moon outpost. Echo and Fives were the last remaining, and were requested for the 501st legion by Captain Rex."

"Echo was seemingly killed by an explosion at the citadel rescue, leaving Fives as the last remaining Domino before the parasite turned him crazy, resulting in his death by blaster, Commander Fox."

"I have recently been informed that Echo survived the blast, and was taken captive by the Techno Union. Later joining with Clone Force 99. Report taken by General Shaak Ti."

"So you mean they're from the same squad?" Wrecker asked

"That is what I just said."

"Can they read each other's minds?" Omega asked

"What do you mean?" Hunter asked

"They keep giving each other looks without talking and look like they're having a conversation." Omega said

"Maybe they have telepathy!" Wrecker said

"I highly doubt that as a possibility." Tech said

The Domino Twins walked over together after finishing their conversation. Echo came by to check on Wrecker. And Fives briefly spoke with Tech as Hunter spoke up to Omega.

"Impressive shot back there." Hunter looked to Omega

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

"I don't know.  I never fired a blaster before."

"I guess I just got lucky."

The attention of the others was diverted to the conversation when Echo spoke up.

"She's not the only one." He moved Wrecker up.

"I'm fine. It'll take more than a blaster shot to take me down." Wrecker said

"You were down." Echo reminds him.

"Yeah, well.. Not for long!" He laughed out loud, playfully punching Echo in the arm.

He groaned in pain shortly after.

"So uh.. Where are we gonna go now? Not exactly a lot of places for clone deserters and a clone traitor." Fives asked Hunter

"I thought we could go off on our own. Lay low."

"But with Crosshair gunning for us, I'm not so sure." Hunter was thinking

"What about your friends?  Can any of them help us?" Omega asks

"That would be a short list.." Tech said

"Well.. I can think of one. Plot a course for J-19." Hunter said

Tech nodded his head and set the Navi computer.

"J-19?" The twins spoke up at the same time.

"We know a guy."

The ship was silent.

Wrecker and Omega were huddled up together, asleep.

Tech was flying the ship through hyperspace.

Fives and Echo were sitting next to one another. Fives rubbed his eyes, he still tried hiding how tired he really was.

"Fives. Get some sleep. Even those two are asleep by now." He motioned towards Omega and Wrecker.

"I'm not tired."

Echo scoffed. How dumb did this fool think he was?

"Did you by chance forget who you tried that with just now?" Echo was a little snarky

"Or did you perhaps think I somehow don't know you anymore?"

"I'm the one person who has always known you and will always know you."

Fives looked down at the floor. And Echo put his hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, what's going on?"

He didn't want to bring it up.

"I really don't want to talk about this right now."

"We haven't seen each other since the Citadel before today. And the first problem you're having.. You don't even want to talk about it?"

"I have my reasons." He responded

"They all- look.."

"You're right. We did just get each other back. And that's exactly why I don't want to ruin that with this."

"Talk to me."

It was easy to slip back into old habits with Echo around. Of course.. Things were somehow harder now than it had been.. But there were a few things in this moment that did feel the same.

"Well uh...I don't sleep...really. Not anymore."

"Things have gotten worse the longer I was there."

"I just can't take it... It's all the nightmares. They just.."

"Everytime I sleep.. I'm reliving it."

"I only sleep when I absolutely have to. Maybe 2 times a week."

"Things are different now.. They've been difficult for a while." Echo said

"We never really seem to catch a break,  do we?"

"No.. We really don't." Fives responded

"Except this time." Echo said

"After every horrible thing that's happened this last... Well since the Empire. It brought back our best way to fight through these things. Being together."

"As long as we live.. We're still batchmates. And you're still my twin. Though I might not exactly look the part anymore."

The joke resulted in a chuckle from the pair as they made eye contact.

"Try and sleep. I'll be right here the whole time." He promised.

"We're going to get through this eventually."

"You know after everything... It did nothing. The warning. No one believed me and no one was saved." Fives sighed.

"It might have."

"Do you think it's ever gonna be okay?" Fives asked

"I know.. We're clones. We were made for being soldiers.."

"But this brings back the fear.. What are they going to do to our brothers now that the war is over?"

"I don't know Ori'vod.. But we are going to save who we can."

Fives rested his head on Echo's shoulder.

"If they could see us now.. I hope they'd be proud." Echo said

"They would." Fives answered

[mwolf0epsilon]

The Umbaran Pathogen - Day 8: Dissociation

Summary: It's not the sudden outbreak of strange localized rashes that tips off the medics that something might be wrong with the men. What really clues them in is the behavioral changes.

Warning: N/A

Twitch belongs to @gaeasun Pitch belongs to @lost-on-kamino

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[In which the events on Umbara are worsened by an unknown pathogen taking hold of both the 501st and 212th. These series of drabbles will follow a non-linear timeline based on the AI-less Whumptober prompt list for 2023.]

THIS STORY IS ALSO ON AO3

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As soon as the 501st and 212th parted ways, Dogma's bizarre infected rash had all but slipped from the medics's minds. It was, after all, just an unusual blemish that would eventually go away if he used the topical cream he'd been prescribed. A very innocuous matter that would ultimately be rendered as an insignificant footnote on the sergeant's medical records.

At least that had been what they had assumed...

Now that more cases of the same localized lesion had cropped up (all of them fairly freshly afflicted, and less of a mess than what Dogma's own skin had looked like after he'd scratched it raw), they weren't so sure. If anything, they were left confused by this sudden bout of allergic reactions that were plaguing the vode.

That said, as shameful as it was to admit, they hadn't taken it as seriously as they probably should have, when things were still relatively tame. Instead they'd simply tried the same topical cream treatment they'd advised Dogma to follow, and once again hoped for the best.

That had been a huge mistake on their part.

The rashes themselves hadn't really tipped them off to this being a much more grievous event. Umbara was a strange planet with some very strange foliage. Skin allergies caused by the pollen and unusual flora wouldn't be that unexpected, considering none of the clones had really been inoculated against potential environmental hazards from planets that should have been the Republic's allies.

What changed their minds on the seriousness of the outbreak, were the gradual behavioral changes. The state of subdued calmness that kept those who had rashes in a sedate and almost listless manner. The vacancy behind their eyes as they suffered through brief periods of confusion followed by episodes of dissociation.

The men were not in their right minds. Whatever was afflicting them was clearly both physical and neurological. And what's worse, they had very little time to sit down and attempt to diagnose the issue for sure. Their gear far too limited for a more exact analysis.

And especially not when the enemy began to throw everything they had at them, in an attempt to bar any sort of progression they made towards the Umbaran Capitol.

"It can't be an allergy." Coric shook his head as he turned off the small flashlight he'd been using to examine Lichtenberg's absent gaze. The pupils at least seemed to react to the light, and his tear-ducts still worked remarkably well, but otherwise the trooper hadn't shown a modicum of discomfort at being exposed to a sudden bright light. It was like looking at a dead man's eyes. "Meningitis, maybe? We have no idea what we've been breathing in since we landed. A bacterial infection sparked by some kind of airborne fungus might explain things..."

"Then why are only a few of us succumbing?" Kix asked, clearly in disagreement at Coric's assessment. "And why wouldn't our initial scans detect some kind of spore on arrival?"

"And what of the rashes?" Pitch added, pointing towards the listless Lich's neck. "They all start in the exact same place. I could understand the infected rash causing an intense enough fever that they'd become incoherent. But we still have no idea what's causing the rashes themselves, or why the men are reacting so badly to them..."

"It can't be airborne, otherwise we'd all be sick for sure..." Twitch agreed with the two of them, seeming to be just as at a loss for what to think of this. Still he tried to rationalize what could be behind these strange symptoms the sickly troopers had displayed, starting with the highly localized skin abrasion. "Could be a bug bite, maybe? Some kind of mosquito that carries an as of yet unknown tropical disease?"

"That is an option." Sponge nodded. "But it still doesn't explain why there's so few afflicted... We've passed by all kinds of stagnant pools of water and other such breeding grounds for disease carrying insects. Only about 12 of the men got sick."

"Maybe it's rare?" Twitch offered.

"Might as well add that to the list of potential suspects." Coric sighed, bringing up his datapad and glaring at the very limited pool of information they had. They hadn't really managed to compile all that much, since the men all got sick around the same time. "What are we missing?"

"Aside from an actual concrete vector and an identity for our mystery illness?" Kix rolled his eyes. "Medical supplies. A functional medbay. Something less basic than a scanner and field triage..."

"Not to mention a Chancellor that doesn't call our General off planet to do little gods only know what..." Sponge bitterly remarked, still upset at the news that Skywalker was bailing on them and leaving the 501st in some unknown replacement General's hands.

The medics all fell into an uncomfortable silence. An uneasy quiet that was only broken by Lich's incessant scratching at his blighted skin. Attention all turned towards him, there was at least some relief at finding that life had returned to his eyes. Although the absolute look of miserable discomfort wasn't too reassuring.

"Quit scratching, you'll make it worse dipshit!" Sponge huffed, pulling Lich's hands away from the back of his neck.

One might balk at the thought of a medic insulting their patient but, considering the lengthy history both clones shared at this point, it wasn't unusual for Sponge to spit a quick insult at Lich specifically.

It was less of a derogatory term and more of an affectionate jab that was absolutely dripping with concern for Lichtenberg's well being. Sponge was the one who signed off on all of his medical flimsy-work after all. They knew his particular streak of bad luck when it came to injuries out in the field.

This? This was threading new waters for them...

"C-Can't help it... It itches!" Lich gulped uneasily, looking towards their primary medic with something akin to barely restrained fear. "It itches all over!"

The heavy gunner tugged his hands free from their cantankerous vod, and went back to scratching wildly. Only, instead of scratching his neck he was now frantically raking his nails over his back and chest in clear desperation for relief.

Sharing a concerned look, all five medics approached the uncomfortable trooper and pulled the top half of his body-glove down to expose his torso.

To their horror Lichtenberg was right in saying he was itchy all over.

The rash had disseminated downwards and over towards his front. Pus-filled blisters and boils littering the surface of his reddened epidermis, reminding the older medics somewhat of that one time Commander Tano had attempted to cook some kind of quiche recipe from her home-planet, and had ended up with something visually out of a horror holo.

Kix and Coric still gagged at the memory of poorly cooked nuna meat dripping with a disgustingly milky cheese sauce.

"It's spreading..." Twitch whispered, looking somewhat perturbed by the new development.

"Sithspit... Look at his neck..." Pitch pointed in horror.

The initial point where the rash had first appeared looked crusted over. But something was strange about the scabbing process. It didn't look like your regular dried clot. What should have been the familiar dark reddish brown of dried up platelets, looked more like some kind of cluster of black scale-like material.

Sponge squinted at it, seeming to give the stuff a quick visual appraisal, before shaking their head in absolute disbelief at what they were seeing.

"Reminds me of... Of barnacles, almost..." They kept their tone even, but the horror in their words was palpable. "Whatever this is, we definitely need a fully equipped medbay, not just our scanners and medikits... We're in over our heads."

To make things worse, Lich had quieted down again. Stuck in yet another dissociative episode, no doubt. His usually cheery expression completely blank and neutral. Eyes emptier than the void of space.

Whatever this was, was so much more serious than they'd initially thought. No topical cream was going to be a quick fix. Which seemed to dawn on the youngest of them.

"Wait... If Lich is this bad and he's only just recently started feeling sick..." Twitch bit his lip nervously as he looked at his older vode. "T-Then what about Dogma? He came to us with the same rash three days ago..."

Good question, as ever since he'd come to them, they hadn't actually seen much of the sergeant. He wasn't with Tup, who had mostly just been hanging out with Fives and Hardcase. Something which Sponge had commented on briefly that morning.

They had thought it very strange.

Now they were all beginning to worry about his apparent absence. If the more recently afflicted soldiers were this bad off, then what of Dogma who, to their knowledge, was the very first one to come down with the mystery illness? What had become of the sergeant?

[bunnywritesjunk]

Ruusaan | Captain Rex x Reader

Series summary: You missed your tropical planet, but coruscant had more to offer. You are a field medic in the 501st. you work closely with the captain in hopes of not losing your job. But how close is too close.

Chapter summary: Rex hasn't spoken to you in days. Hopefully this mission will give you guys some time to talk.

Pairing: Captain Rex x Reader

Warnings: Slavery, Suicide (Canon typical suicide), Rated R

Word count: 3k

Series Masterlist

Genre: Fluff and angst

A/n: Hello everyone, this is the start of a next arc. Rexy boy is getting a little serious ooooh. I'm gonna try to post chapter 9 really soon. I think after this chap or the next one y'all will finally get what you've been waiting for.

Chapter 8

Rex hasn't you in days. He needed time to process his newfound feelings. There’s only one person that could give him proper advice on how to continue. Rex hadn’t thought about relationships with anyone, especially before the war ended. Did he want a relationship? Would it get in the way of his duties? Before he could overthink he found General Skywalker. He was in the hangar speaking to a trooper and General Kenobi. Rex nodded at them in a small greeting.

“General, Trooper.” Rex said to the group.

“Morning Rex.” Skywalker greeted him back.

“General Skywalker, can we speak in private?”

“Sure.”

Obi-wan and the soldier left promptly.

“What is it, Rex?” Anakin asked.

Rex looked around, troops were buzzing around the hangar going in all directions.

“Uh, maybe somewhere more private.”

Anakin nodded and started leading him away to an empty hangar control room.

“Is there something I should be worried about?” Anakin asked the Captain.

“No sir”

Once they got to the control room, Anakin closed the door behind them and stood next to it looking at Rex.

“Well, I had a question for you. A hypothetical question.”

“Go on.” Said Anakin.

“Well say hypothetically, there’s a soldier who has taken a liking to someone on their team. Hypothetically the teammate is showing interest as well, but the soldier has not had any form of a real relationship before and has important duties to attend to. Should the soldier pursue the teammate or keep their distance?”

“Huh, and this is all hypothetical?”

Rex nodded.

Anakin smirked at the Captain.

“Well, I think the soldier should have as many experiences as possible.

Relationships with teammates can be complicated. Just keep doing your- I mean he should keep doing his job and keep the relationship quiet. I don’t think many people will mind.”

Rex looked down at his feet, thinking about what was said.

“This is all hypothetical of course.” Anakin winked at him and left the control room.

Rex replayed the questions that has been plaguing his mind for the past few days. He knew his body yearned for you. His mind was even more fond of the medic. He managed to control his urges but that didn’t stop his dreams from reminding him of his current issue.

What the General said did strike a chord with him. To have more experiences. Rex walked out of the control room and headed down through the hangar. He needed to talk to you, just not today. He was still reeling from the last time he saw you. He needed time to think about what he wanted to say to you. You worked with him, Rex wanted to be careful about how he went about explaining his feelings to you. He walked back to his bunk to check his holo-pad. There was an upcoming mission briefing soon. He made his way to the bridge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slipping into your battle gear was no easy feat but you managed. You were being called to a special assignment. You weren't given the details yet but you were excited to get back into the field. After the Umbara incident, you got benched to make sure you're ok to go back into battle. Na'wi has been getting all the fun assignments, meanwhile, you're stuck on the ship. She even got called early to the mission you were getting ready for. Someone was supposed to contact you soon to brief you on the mission. You went through your pack to make sure you had all your supplies fully cleaned and stocked. You were a little nervous but you knew this mission would be better this time. Your holoprojector beeped in your pocket. You pulled it quickly and answered it. The holo materialized onto the device showing Na'wi and Anakin. You greeted them warmly.

“Hey girl, we're briefing you on the mission.” Na'wi said.

“Alright, hit me.” You responded. Anakin spoke.

“Well, This one is a little bit different from what you would normally do. But you can help us a lot.” You nodded waiting for him to continue.

“The people of the planet Shili have been kidnapped. We suspect it was Zygerrian Slavers with the help of Dooku.”

“Zygerrians?!” You exclaimed.

“Yeah, we figured that might strike a chord with you. We are going to Zygerria to infiltrate the system and get the Togruta people back to their home planet. Believe me, I have no desire to be civil with that scum. But, given your planetary history, you could prove useful.”

You looked down at your feet, processing the information you were given. Your planet has had issues with the Zygerrians for centuries. They saw your people as nothing but prizes to be won. Despite your planet remaining peaceful for all these years they still try to kidnap and enslave your people. They are a cunning and money-hungry planet.

“So you're going to use me as bait?” You asked.

“Not exactly. We need someone the Zygerrians will stop at nothing to have. You won't be sold, and you'll be with Rex, Ahsoka and I the whole time. Listen, you don't have to take this mission if it's too much.”

You knew the General wasn't trying to make you sound weak for turning the mission down but it bothered you anyway. You haven't seen action in weeks, not taking it would mean at least another few weeks benched.

“Alright, I'll help.”

“Great, you won't need your gear or armor, and wear something more...Traditional if you know what I mean.” Anakin said.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, ok I can do that.”

“Hey, that wasn't my idea it was her's” He pointed to Na'wi.

“Well, the plan will work better if she doesn't look like a Republic nurse. The rest of the Squadron will be holding down the fort on Shili waiting for you guys to return.” Na'wi said.

“Don't worry, we'll be in costume too. Our shuttle will arrive in the hangar in about thirty minutes. Be ready by then.” Anakin said.

“Yes sir.”

You severed the connection and put your holoprojector back in your pocket. You stared at the wall for a second before making your way to your closet. You saved a few outfits from your planet for when you visit home. You picked an outfit that you didn't care if it got ruined. It was a long orange skirt with embroidery and beading on it. It came with a matching one-shoulder crop top. You also grabbed a pair of simple brown sandals. It was considered a casual piece of clothing for your family despite the hours it took to make. You remember the shop you got it from, a kind old woman sized and fit it for you. You're sure she wouldn't mind making you another one. You took off your field nurse uniform and slipped into the outfit.

You set the clothes aside and went back into your closet and pulled out a large jewelry box. Jewelry is a status symbol on your planet. The more beads, shells, and gems you wore, the more important you are. You chose pieces that had little sentimental value as they would probably be lost during the mission. The Zygerrians would know that. You placed gold cuffs on your pointed ears, making sure your hair was done in a way they were very visible. You placed gold bands on your arms and rings into your nostrils. Some had beads dangling from them. You fastened some shells into your hair as well. Lastly, you placed a gold cuff onto your tail, it has a band of red crystal running through it, a crystal that can only be found on your planet.

You pulled out a black cloak to hide your clothing while you walked to the hangar. Not that you were embarrassed by your culture, but more embarrassed by what you were about to do on this mission. You wanted to draw as little attention to yourself as possible.

You walked quickly to the hangar, luckily avoiding most people on your way. When you got there you saw a small ship that didn't look like a republic ship. Ahsoka, Anakin, and R2-D2 were standing near the entrance. Ahsoka noticed you first, giving you a small wave as you approached. Anakin turned towards you, He was wearing a typical Zygerrian slavers uniform. You grimaced slightly at the sight.

“Alright, we're all here. Let's get this over with.” The general said.

You followed them inside the ship and saw Rex and Obi-wan dressed similarly to Anakin. Anakin sat in the pilot's seat, Rex his co-pilot. Rex looked over his shoulder at you and nodded. You didn't acknowledge him back as you were still a little sore from your last encounter with him. He turned his attention back to the ship and started to take off. The flight would only be a few minutes long so you leaned on the wall as the other spoke. As the ship drew closer to Zygerria, more ships appeared trying to enter the planet's atmosphere.

“Looks like Zygerria is a popular place these days.” Anakin said.

“Whatever is happening is attracting plenty of high-class scum.” Obi-wan added.

As the ship lowered onto the planet your nerves heightened. You didn't know what you were in for, but you had to trust your Generals and your Captain. Ahsoka placed a hand on your shoulder as if she could feel your emotions.

“Hey, don't worry. I'm in the same boat as you are. I'll be right with you.” She said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I'm also gonna be a bargaining chip for the Zygerrians.”

You hummed. “I see, well I don't know if that makes me feel better but at least I'm not alone in that.”

Ahsoka smiled and went to the back of the ship. You felt the ship land with a thud. When Ahsoka emerged she was cloaked head to toe. You pulled the hood of your cloak up to match her a bit more. The group left the ship, The Generals and Captain leading while you and Ahsoka followed behind. The planet was warm and sunny, a contrast to what you were about to experience. Walking towards the capital you kept your head down, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself. The city was...less than hospitable. There were slave auctions and animal fights. It disgusts you. As you were walking a Twi'lek man fell onto the walking path. A Zygerrian told him to get up.

“Get up, you useless skug.” The Zygerrian spat.

“Master, the bonds, they're too heavy.” The Twi'lek said.

The Zygerrian growled. “Tell it to my whip.”

He unsheathed his weapon, about to lash the man. A hand grabbed the Zygerrians arm.

“You don't want to do that.” Ahsoka stopped the Slaver.

You helped the Twi'lek up onto his feet silently.

“You dare touch me?!” The Zygerrian said to Ahsoka.

“Excuse my slave, friend. She is freshly caught” Anakin interjected.

Two more guards approached.

“Hmm, what have we here? You wear Zygerrian armor but are not one of us. Who are you?” The Zygerrian asked.

“I've come for an audience with the queen.”

“Then you have an invitation. We cannot just let anyone in to speak with her majesty.”

“No invitation, but I do bring news. News the queen will be eager to hear.” Anakin said with a smirk.

“I doubt that you're nothing more than a Brigand.”

“I wouldn't say that, especially when the queen learns you prevented her from hearing the news about Bruno Denturri.”

An observation droid floats in between Anakin and the Zygerrian.

“Halt, cease all hostilities. This man is to be escorted to the palace by order of the queen.” The droid said.

While the standoff was happening, Obi-wan and Rex snuck off unnoticed. The walk to the palace was short. Standing in the throne room was nerve-inducing, knowing what the Zygerrians would do to get their hands on your people. And here you are on a silver platter. The Queen had a few pet birds around her.

“Make sure all preparations are complete for this evening.” The Queen said to one of her servants.

When she glanced down at Anakin her face lit up.

“And fetch refreshments.” She called to them.

The Zygerrian that escorted you introduced Anakin.

“My Queen, I present, Lars Quell.”

“Hmm so, you're the man who claims to be acquainted with Bruno Denturri?” She asked Anakin or Lars.

“Yes, your Highness. however, when I spoke with him, he failed to describe your beauty.”

You sighed. This was the plan huh?

The Queen chuckled. “Really? And did Bruno speak of my intense hatred of him? Or did that escape his memory as well?” The Queen asked with a scowl.

The Zygerrian guard raised his blaster at Anakin. Anakin gently pushed the blaster tip away from his face.

“He needed not speak of it, your majesty. In fact, Bruno Denturri will not be speaking...Ever again.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bruno Denturri's dead by my hand. Here are two slaves from his palace, compensation for my efforts.”

Anakin grabbed Ahsoka's cloak and revealed her beautiful blue slave outfit. You would've wanted to know where she got it if it weren't for the circumstances.

“Unhand me, Brigand!” Ahsoka exclaimed.

“And this one I think you'll especially take a liking to.” Anakin walked up to you and took your cloak off.

The Queen gasped and stood up.

“An Igbo woman, she is rare. You impress me, Lars Quell, they are quite a prize. And to have defeated Bruno Denturri in combat? Well, you must be quite the warrior.” The Queen approached.

The servants bowed to her so you and Ahsoka followed suit. She circled you slowly, inspecting. She grabbed your tail and you fought the urge to pull away and hiss. She let go but replaced her grip on your face. Turning your head side to side and opening your mouth to see your teeth.

“What region are you from?” The Queen asked you.

“Yoruba.” You responded. Your tail flicked back and forth in annoyance.

The Queen hummed. “These slaves are certainly of fine stock. Bruno always knew how to choose a beautiful female.”

The Queen stalked over to Ahsoka and gripped her arm.

“Don't you dare touch me.” Ahsoka ripped out of the Queen's grasp.

The queen scowled “Though she will have to be processed. Her demeanor leaves much to be desired. I will bring in a friend of mine for the Igbo woman, he will pay nicely for her. What is your price for the Togruta?”

“With respect, how can I price the beauty of these slaves when I look upon the magnificence of your Highness, whose beauty would make the brightest star seem dull by comparison?” Anakin said.

Ahsoka looked at you and rolled her eyes. You shrugged in response.

“Lars Quell, you flatter me.” The Queen chuckled.

“No your majesty, however...” Anakin started whispering in the Queen's ear. She giggled.

“Lars, stop it, stop it! Hmm you are a bold one aren't you?”

“My reputation precedes me then.”

“Perhaps we can find a way to put a price on your slaves. Come walk with me.” Anakin and the queen linked arms and walked up the throne room steps.

You and Ahsoka followed. Beyond the throne room was a large balcony. The Queen's Twi'lek slave followed her with a tray of beverages. The queen took one and continued to speak to Anakin.

“Slavery is the natural order of things. The weak deserve nothing more than to kneel before the strong, bound to our service.” She continued.

“I will need men with your talents to spread our ways across the galaxy.”

Suddenly, The Twi'lek girl lunged at the queen with a knife. Anakin grabbed her forearm stopping her assault.

“Ah, let me go!” She screamed at Anakin. He released her and she fell back.

“You dare raise a hand against your master? Clearly, you require further processing.” The Queen said with venom.

The girl backed up to the balcony wall.

“No! I won't go back there!.” She said while climbing onto the wall.

“Wait, Stop!” Anakin lunged for the girl, but it was too late. She jumped.

You gasped and covered your mouth as you heard her body hit the ground. That poor girl was driven to kill herself because of these people.

The Queen sat on the balcony edge and sighed.

“Such a waste, but perhaps she was more trouble than she's worth.”

“But you Lars, you are proving quite resourceful, very well I will pay your price for this slave girl. It seems I am in need of a new servant.” She gestured to Ahsoka.

Anakin glanced once more at the body below. “She is my gift to you, your Highness.”

“You are a man of many surprises, it pleases me. My friend should be here shortly for the Igbo woman. Also, I wish you to be my guest at the slave auction, and to sit at my side.” The queen held her hand out for Anakin to take. He took it gently and led her away. Back inside the throne room, another Zygerrian guard entered.

“Your majesty, your guest is here.” He said.

Your heart pounded. You took a deep breath willing yourself to calm down. The man that entered was huge. He towered over the other Zygerrian guards and held authority. The Queen went to greet him.

“Ah, Jarok. Welcome, I have a wonderful surprise for you.” The Queen beckoned you over. You walked up to them calmly not looking him in the eye.

“Where did you catch her.” The Zygerrian now known as Jarok asked not taking her gaze off of you.

“She was acquired at Bruno Denturri's palace.” Anakin said.

Jarok placed a finger under your chin, lifting your head. You looked into his eyes.

“For years, I have been searching for one such as you.” His voice was firm and quiet.

“What is your price?”

[eomereadig]

Livy's Clone OCs: Masterlist

Hey guys, since my OCs are multiplying like a plague right now, I've made a handy little masterlist to keep track of them all! (Also for my own benefit lol).

Each link below takes you to the chronological reading order for each character since a lot of the fics were published and written in random orders. I've also included fics where the characters are only mentioned but these are all flagged if anyone wanted to skip them!

As you can see, there's a lot of medics because I love causing pain :)

212th Battalion:

CT-4383 | Fix: 212th Chief Medical Officer

CT-1890-26 | Fever: 212th Combat Medic

CT-9823 | Shrapnel: 212th Combat Medic

CT-8295 | Apex: 212th Trooper

CT-8181 | Bombshell: 212th Paratrooper, 2nd Airborne Company

Coruscant Guard:

CT-1890-25 | Agony: Coruscant Guard Chief Medical Officer

CT-9201 | Suture: Coruscant Guard Medic

CT-3311 | Chew: Coruscant Guard ARF Corporal

I'd really prefer it if people didn't use my OCs in their own writing but fanart is always welcome!

[bibannana]

Rex *confidently talking to Jesse, Hardcase, Fives and Echo*: I fear no man

Kix *ship wide announcement*: Yearly physicals are being held this week. If you do not attend there will be severe consequences. Thank you

Rex *sweating nervously*: I fear one man

[yukipri]

Clone File: Ashe (YukiPri OC)

I've made a number of clone OCs who appear in all of my various AUs. I wanted to formally introduce them, including sharing their visuals and backstories!

Here's the first one, my oldest OC, Ashe! He's one of my main two medics!

Basic info:

Name: Ashe

Number Designation: CC-2222

Generation: 1 (0.9)

Rank/Title: Kamino Chief Clone Medical Trainer (former), Chief Medical Officer of the 7th Sky

GAR Affiliation: 7th Sky Corps, 212th Attack Battalion

Character status: YukiPri Original Character

AUs: The Prime Override, Mando Back, A Million Bites, Take Flight

EDIT (as of November, 2023): I decided to give Ashe's armor a major re-design!

I decided he can look a lil cooler, so now he has a Plague Doctor-inspired bucket (hey, if scout troopers can look like hound dogs, why not?). It's my completely original bucket design, and I'm honestly pretty happy with how he turned out! He also gets a lil cape to further reinforce his plague doctor look.

I also updated the actual text in his backstory here, because I wrote it long before his actual intro in the main fic I created him for, The Prime Override. The essence of who he is and what he does is the same, but I adjusted some things now that I have better context for him.

Backstory beneath cut!

Warnings: the following backstory contains spoilers for multiple AUs. Also non-explicit mention of decommissioning.

~~

Overview:

Ashe (pronounced “ash”),or CC-2222 is technically not the 212th's medic—he's the 7th Sky's Chief Medic. This means that all of the medics of sub-divisions under the 7th Sky, including those of the 212th and 501st, answer to him. He's the medical equivalent of Marshall Commander, and fittingly, usually accompanies Cody and Obi-Wan. This is why he's often found with the 212th, even though like Cody, he doesn't serve only them.

Ashe was deployed considerably later than most other clones in his generation. As Cody's batchmate, he's one of the "early development CCs" (Generation 0.9), a small group of CCs with slightly boosted initial aging who served as trials for the training and educational curriculums of later CC and CT troopers. Clone medics are usually CTs because their training curriculums allow for more specializations, and CCs have a much broader command-centric training that the Kaminoans feel are wasted in limited fields. That being said, they still needed a group to develop medical training with, and Ashe was selected as one of this small group of CCs. Nala Se personally oversaw the training of this preliminary test group of medics.

Ashe stood out in his medic training, and was exemplary in everything the Kaminoans wished to see. He was smart, obedient, deferred completely even to the most lowly of the Kaminoan staff, and didn't shy away from tasks that his peers balked at. He had a bizarrely clear understanding of Kaminoan values and priorities, something rare outside of their species, and even rarer among his Fett clone peers. Nala Se, who supervised him most closely, began to place far more trust in him than most clones, and other Kaminoans followed suit. Eventually, Nala Se began asking for his input on training modules and exercises for other clone medics, knowing that his CC training would give him a more practical military perspective that the Kaminoans themselves lack. After Ashe repeatedly proves over the years that he is able to replicate choices that Nala Se herself would make, she eventually makes him the Chief Clone Medical Trainer, as well as an advisor and editor for clone medic training modules, all positions that usually would have gone to Kaminoans. 

When the war began, Ashe remained on Kamino while his batchmates and students went out to fight. Nala Se wanted him to continue training medics, especially when those out in the field performed better than expected. Ashe remained on Kamino for a whole year after the war had begun, long after the main body of the clone army deployed.

Then, a year later, he was suddenly assigned to go out onto the field. The assignment request was from High General Obi-Wan Kenobi, who requested Kamino's best medic on the front lines, and had been recommended Ashe by his Commander. Given that Ashe had trained a significant number of reliable clone trainer assistants by this time, Nala Se grudgingly allowed the request, and Ashe was shipped out.

When he was first sent out to the front lines, he was an uncomfortable and unwelcome presence to most clones. He always appeared cold, calm, and aloof, and his attitude and various physical ticks like walking slowly and rarely blinking reminded them eerily of Kaminoans. He even spoke like a Kaminoan—his accent wasn't like that of other clones, at least in basic—and all of this only reaffirmed his reputation of being the "Kaminoans' pet." Most clones believed he was a plant sent by Nala Se who reported back to her on all GAR activity. He never socialized, and seemed to avoid other clones, which they were all perfectly happy with; it looked like he was more interested in admiring his own reflection than talking with brothers anyway. As the Chief Medic of the 7th Sky, he rarely went out into the field and usually remained on the ships, performing administrative duties and only personally entering the operating room for the most difficult surgeries. Other clones assumed he thought himself too important to mingle with the masses.

As if being a wannabe Kaminoan wasn’t bad enough, an even darker nickname was associated with Ashe: “The Decommissioner.” Every clone had heard rumors that he'd personally decommissioned countless brothers, performing the dirtiest tasks for the Kaminoans. Many clones worried about what he discussed with Cody behind closed doors, and were terrified that if they were sent to him instead of a medic working under him, it was a death sentence. There was also a rumor that he collected the bodies of dead brothers for terrible experiments. The title of the Decommissioner followed Ashe even long after the majority of these rumors were dispelled.

~~

The true story:

When they were cadets, as Cody's close batchmate, Ashe is one of the first clones who joins Cody in establishing his underground network of trying to support fellow clones. He's confident in his skills and smarts, and hates when Cody, who is a small but significant two numbers younger, tries to shoulder too many burdens. When they see the valuable opportunity to get one of them involved in medical training, Ashe volunteers himself to prevent Cody from attempting to take on yet another burden.

Ashe and Cody decide that in becoming a medic, Ashe has three primary objectives: 1) Learn as much about the Kaminoans as possible, 2) Reduce the number of decommissioned brothers, 3) Prolong all of their lives as much as possible. Neither of them are under any impression that they'll be able to stop the Kaminoans entirely. Ashe's job is to gather information and try to minimize the damage.

Ashe spends years sucking up to Kaminoans. He learns their culture and habits, using the trust he gains to access more information. He researches past cloning projects, and past cloned armies the Kaminoans have made. He tries to understand how Kaminoans see the clones, so he can better predict which of his brothers are in most danger, and better prepare for the Kaminoans' future plans for them. He sucks up to the stupider, lower-ranked Kaminoans who enjoy his subservience enough to make more mistakes. And most importantly, he molds himself into the ideal obedient servant for Nala Se, who quickly identifies him as a potentially useful asset to develop. After all, Ashe knows that Nala Se alone holds the authority and keys to most of what he his seeking.

Ashe knows that in order to stop decommissioning, he needs to get closer to it. The rumors aren't wrong—he has participated in decommissionings, many of them. He knows all of the methods the Kaminoans use to end the lives of his brothers. He at first just stood to the side, pretending to be unaffected as the Kaminoans murdered his brothers, but eventually he has to actively participate in euthanizing—an experience that leaves him traumatized, but he forces himself to get used to it. After all, Nala Se must first trust him and his results before she can leave the entire process to him, and only then will he finally get the opportunity to deviate from the course to save lives.

Ashe carts his brothers' bodies to the cremation chamber, and watches their ashes get expelled into the cold, rainy Kaminoan sky. He names himself "Ashe," because he knows they'll all just be ashes one day, but he'll do his damn hardest to make sure that day isn't today.

He learns that the Kaminoans are definitely creating them with a policy of planned obsolescence—they want the Republic to think the clones are good enough to want more, but they also want the clones to die off at a fast enough pace that the Republic will have to buy more to replace them. It's all about maximizing profit, because the clones are, in the end, just products. This is reflected in the medical training that Ashe first receives; the Kaminoans planned to intentionally train their medics to mark brothers who might survive as too late to save, and have intentionally limited the tools and supplies they can access so that that the loss of clone lives remains profitable to them.

Given that it's all the training most medics would receive, no clone would know better. Ashe knows better, because he alone was given the privilege of accessing medical training from outside of Kamino as a part of his unique early training. And perhaps most importantly, he knows the Kaminoans. He slowly tries to incorporate himself into training module development. It's a painfully slow, delicate operation that requires Ashe to write in things that will hurt his brothers—the Kaminoans must believe that Ashe is helping them profit off of his brothers' planned deaths, after all—but he eventually makes a low administrator position, and works his way up. With ever-present Kaminoan eyes checking his work, the changes he can make to the modules themselves are minimal, but it lets him supervise every clone medic personally, and slip them additional "notes" during in-person training sessions. He teaches the medics the realities behind their methods—what kind of fatality numbers the Kaminoans want to see in order for the medics to be "successful" in their eyes, and why—and he teaches them how to fake both deaths and reports well.

Ashe despises Kaminoans more than most clones can imagine, and his hatred towards Nala Se is deeply personal. He knows so much about all of the Kaminoans and their practices, and he uses his hate to fuel digging ever deeper into them. His only hope is that one day, he'll be able to help get all of his brothers and himself off of Kamino, and away from them. But he's just one cog, and he focuses on managing his one specialized area, and continues reporting everything he can to Cody.

The war starts, and clones begin to leave Kamino. Ashe desperately wants to go too—actually saving the lives of his brothers on the field, because he can with his skills, seems an infinitely better fate than standing alone in pristine lab rooms, being complicit or actively murdering his brothers with his own hands when he can't save them. But Ashe has also come so far, and knows there are too many things that only he can do at this point. He decides to remain on Kamino, under Nala Se, to continue his operation for as long as he can.

While Ashe thinks he's gotten far in terms of medical knowledge, training, and even decommissioning, cloning and their inbuilt DNA is more difficult. Cloning is a different specialization from clone medic training, and the information is more difficult for Ashe to access and far more classified. He still tries, and bit by bit, he gathers potential information that might one day help them.

His position means that he can access more Kaminoan resources than perhaps any other clone, and eventually, he manages to synthesize what he hopes might be an antidote to their accelerated aging. He thinks it's the best he can manage, at least unless Nala Se herself decides to cough up information personally. Not wanting to test an unknown drug on another clone, he injects himself with his concoction.

The next day, his previously black hair is all white.

Ashe panics, and hides under his bucket as he goes to consult Seventeen, who has since returned from the front lines and is a trainer himself. Seventeen takes one look at him, and sends a transmission to Cody, asking him to get General Kenobi to pull Ashe out of Kamino and to the front. Ashe tries to convince him not to—he can dye his hair black again, he can try to continue being useful here—but he's terrified and Seventeen knows it.

Ashe doesn't know to what extent, but he knows that the drug he'd administered had somehow affected him on the genetic level. All Nala Se would need is to get suspicious enough to take one sample, and she’d know Ashe has been altered. If she finds out Ashe had done it himself (not many other potential perpetrators), she’ll decommission him. Ashe is far less worried about his own death than he is that in investigating him, Nala Se will realize that he's compromised every single clone medic, possibly more, and will then in turn decommission all of them.

And so, reluctantly, Ashe lets Seventeen boot him out of Kamino, and under General Kenobi's wing, who Seventeen says will protect him from Kamino. It's around a year into the war.

Ashe hates it. He feels that he's failed at all of his life goals. Not only did he kriff up and definitely not discover the cure to de-aging, but he kriffed himself up in the process, to the point he can't continue being useful in his previous role.

Cody, one of the few who's aware of everything he's been doing from the beginning, assures him that he's done enough. Just as Ashe tells Cody that he can't be solely responsible for saving his brothers, neither can Ashe. Ashe has done enough, and it's time for his assistants back on Kamino to carry on his previous role. Being a medic on the front lines is plenty enough hard work, and there will still be other things for Ashe to do.

Ashe wants to be a field medic, but he's also missed out on the entire first year of action, and now all of his active students have more field experience than him. Ashe is also too confident in his skills. He was practically on par with Cody in their early CC training, making them top of their class, but unlike Cody, he's rusty from dedicating the majority of his time to medic training and research. Combined with his frustration and self-loathing, he's far too reckless the first time he goes out onto the field, and Cody forbids him from doing it again until he's proven himself capable of not being self-destructive. Ashe's experience and knowledge is too essential to the clones as a whole for Cody to risk him getting taken out by a stray blaster bolt. Ashe is furious that Cody wants to keep him locked up away from the fight, denying him his right to die alongside his brothers, but can't do anything to convince him to rescind the order.

Ashe turns his frustration into desperation to save as many brothers as he can aboard their flagship. His methods are brutal. Clone bodies are usually supposed to be cremated, as they were taught as part of their training, and at this point in the war, it's become a solemn parting ritual for their dead. Ashe demands that things change so every clone body that can be salvaged in decent condition be brought back to the ship. He methodically strips bodies of healthy organs to preserve, sometimes entire limbs or whole bodies. They’re clones; almost all of their body parts can be swapped out for that of another brother's. Their blood, their organs, even entire heads to bodies with Ashe's skills. Give Ashe two clones who are about to die, and he'll usually be able to save one of them with the other's parts.

All of the clone medics who trained with Ashe know how to save their brothers’ lives using Ashe’s methods, but can’t, at least openly, without revealing that Ashe taught them beyond their strict Kaminoan-approved curriculums. In order for them to be “successful medics” in the eyes of Kamino, the mortality rates of their patients must remain profitable. But Ashe comes with the additional label of being Nala Se’s personally trained “best clone medic.” He alone is allowed to disregard the mortality rates and rules set for other medics, as his personal success is directly reflective of Nala Se’s personal capabilities as a trainer. And thus, he saves his brothers, as many as he can, often in the most horrible ways imaginable.

This does nothing to improve Ashe's reputation among his brothers, who hate how Ashe talks about them like their bodies are droid parts. They essentially are, Ashe thinks, from a practical perspective, and that's a good thing; few other groups of organics would have this many interchangeable parts at their disposal. But while it's true that a dead brother has no needs for body parts that another brother might use to live, Ashe is perhaps too used to thinking of clones in the Kaminoans' terms, and too emotionally distant from his brothers who just see him as someone who wants to desecrate their dead loved ones. Cody tries to warn Ashe to be more sensitive.

When he's being a medic is the only time Ashe feels fully confident, and he embraces it to the point of obsession once out on the front lines. It's a persona he's maintained almost his entire life, and he's genuinely confident in his abilities. After all, he's been a medic longer than any other clone, and has trained all of the others too. He was not only involved in the creation of the clone medic modules, but has also learned enough from outside of their Kaminoan curriculum to have unbiased galactic context for his skills. He also knows all of the secret Kaminoan administrator tricks that make their particular bodies tick. No matter what his brothers may think of him outside of the med ward, Ashe fully expects everyone to obey him while in he's in medic mode. He gets the medic symbol tattooed on both sides of his head, and makes sure his entire appearance screams "medic" like it's the entirety of his identity (the other parts are, after all, "spy," "traitor," and "decommissioner," none of which he can or wants to have out in the open).

Ashe has no idea what to do with himself when he's not actively being a medic. He knows what most clones think of him, having only seen him trailing like a loyal dog after Nala Se. Many of the rumors are genuinely true. He understands their fear for him, their disgust, their hate. He's practically a Kaminoan himself, a traitor to all of his brothers, and Ashe hates himself enough to agree. He pretends he's too important and busy to go to the mess hall or rec rooms, but in reality the idea of socializing with other clones terrifies him more than decommissioning. He will often hide in his office or private quarters, either obsessively trying to work out a medical challenge or just stewing in self-loathing. If people are too persistent in looking for him for non-medical reasons, he'll hide out in Cody's room or even lock himself in a storage closet so he can get away.

It's different with those who know him. Cody's inner Commanders circle, who know what Ashe has been doing since the beginning, interact with him like normal brothers. Ashe is also comfortable with medics, the vast majority of whom he has personally trained at some point or another. They might not know everything he's done, but they know enough to know he doesn't actually love the Kaminoans, and he can fall back on their established and comfortable role as trainer and students. That being said, there are few he trusts as much as Cody.

Ashe also has a habit of constantly looking at reflections of himself when he's not otherwise occupied. Most other clones assume it's because he's vain, a notion he doesn't discourage because it's better than them knowing the truth: that he's worried he accidentally accelerated his own aging. He's not sure what exactly he did to make his hair go white, but it wasn't what he intended, and he's not sure if there are any other side effects, like if he'll wake up one morning aged a decade. If Cody's around, he'll have them line up side by side, because they were decanted within the same second and should look the same age. The fact that they're both constantly stressed and look older because of it doesn't help his anxiety. If there's one thing Ashe is grateful for, it's that the greater variety of physical self-modifying in the active army makes it easy for everyone to assume his white hair is bleached. He keeps his hair white as a reminder to himself both of his mistake, and how close he came to finding a solution to their accelerated aging. Cody isn't sure if that's self-loathing or pride.

Other physical traits includes his left eye, which is cybernetic. It's designed to look mostly natural and is passable as such from a distance, but has default dark red irises, and pupils that will shift in color or light up as Ashe switches scanning modes. Ashe swapped out his own organic eye so he could have the more useful tools embedded in his own body, or so he claims.

Ashe also has far fewer scars than every other CC of his generation, as not only has he been out on the field for a shorter time, as a cadet he was pulled from more dangerous training simulations once Nala Se started focussing more on his medic training. What few scars he had, Ashe has healed with deep bacta therapy, as he knows Nala Se finds physical imperfections like scars to be distasteful, and he wants to look as perfect as possible to remain in her good graces. For the same reasons, he's obsessive about other self-maintenance as well, including perfectly trimmed nails, perfectly clean gear, and perfectly clean body.

~~

Relationships with others:

Cody considers Ashe one of his closest and oldest confidants, and also feels partially responsible for the difficult situations that Ashe has found himself in, despite Ashe's firm insistence that he chose this path for himself. Cody's still the one who gave him the initial idea, and he does his best to look out for him now. Although they're only two numbers apart, Ashe constantly insists that still makes him older. When they're alone together, Cody and Ashe will sometimes fall back on their early cadet-life nicknames for each other which they used prior to finding names. Between them, it's affectionate. Cody is "Toofor," and Ashe is "Fortoos."

The clone medics are fiercely protective of Ashe, especially around their peers who don't understand him. They know they can't exactly tell everyone that Ashe has been teaching them how to save brothers that the Kaminoans want dead—that information is too dangerous to let it get out, and is a medics secret. They understand that what happens in medic training, stays in medic training. They still do their best to project their absolute trust in him, to try to convince their brothers to feel the same, and will try to keep him company on the rare occasions he tolerates it. To the medics, he's both their extremely competent and reliable superior who risked everything to help them help their brothers, as well as their very awkward, anxious mess of an older brother who has fewer social skills than a feral tooka, who they have to coax out gently if they want to domesticate him. Ashe himself has no idea that they see him this way.

Obi-Wan is at first very curious about their new head medic. He has a strong bond with the 212th's chief medic, Stabber, and doesn't fully understand why Cody suddenly asks him to request another medic to make Stabber's superior, when if anything, he'd prefer to promote Stabber. But he also trusts Cody, and trusts Stabber when his medic eagerly seconds the request, and puts it through.

When the man himself arrives, Obi-Wan is taken by the severe gap between his outward presentation, and his inner emotions. He appears perfectly collected to the point of cold, utterly in control, and professional to the point of droid-like. But through the Force, Obi-Wan senses his fear, his stress, and his near-overwhelming frustration and disappointment in himself, coupled with a dangerous amount of all too familiar self-loathing—all traits that seem odd and potentially risky in a medic with as much responsibility as Ashe is going to be given. Cody and Stabber are both fully confident in his ability to handle the pressure though, and Obi-Wan defers to their experience.

Obi-Wan finds that he's very much as competent as Cody claimed—the 212th's casualty rates drop almost immediately with his addition. His methods are a little…unsavory, but Obi-Wan lets Cody handle the talking, since Ashe seems extremely wary of Obi-Wan. It takes months of spending time in each other's company, always with Cody and/or Stabber supervising, for Ashe to begin to trust that Obi-Wan isn't like a Kaminoan. Then, his curiosity about Obi-Wan's body (he's never worked with a non-clone before) as well as Jedi healing practices start to peek through the cracks, and Obi-Wan realizes he might have finally found an opening through which he can connect with the skittish medic.

Obi-Wan gradually earns Ashe's trust. He very slowly catches hints that Ashe has been doing much more for his brothers behind the scenes, but also knows not to let on that he knows. Obi-Wan finds it saddening that the medic seems to light up about learning new things, but immediately tries to discard it or looks ashamed when it doesn't have direct relevance to helping his brothers. Obi-Wan tries to encourage his curiosity, and makes the most headway when offering his own body for study, since Ashe can satisfy himself with the excuse that compiling data about his General's physiology has the very important practical use that it could potentially save his life in the future. Whenever they're alone together and trying to relax, it's common for Obi-Wan to let Ashe poke him with needles and scan him and run other little tests. It's the only way to keep Ashe from realizing that he's actually willingly participating in socializing.

It takes many months for the 212th to fully embrace Ashe, given that the medic seems to be actively encouraging his own terrible reputation. But enough slip ups while he's interacting with Cody or Stabber, and they eventually realize how much of his reputation is just a facade. Once they realize that, it's a simple matter of catching the man and dragging him into some forceful socializing. His petrified reaction to that only proves that he's no Evil Kaminoan Decommissioner, and they realize that they just need to convince him of the fact. It takes months, but eventually Ashe can be coaxed into being in the same room as off-duty clones, though he usually hides ineffectively behind either Cody or Stabber. They even eventually get Cody to convince Ashe to add some 212th gold to his armor paint, instead of clinging solely to medical red-and-white. Ashe only manages to put a little bit on the back of his hand plates, but it's a start.

The majority of the clones outside of Ashe's immediate circle of interaction continue to believe in his reputation until the full truth of his reasons is revealed. Ashe seems fine with most of his brothers hating him, but those who care about him aren't, and take it upon themselves to protect him.

~~

Just because, here's his old design before I updated him:

~~

That's all folks! Thanks so much for reading!

Related links:

Clone File on Stabber

Clone File on Morbs

OR

Read them all on AO3

~~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. To share, please reblog! Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!!!

❀ You can see the rest of my art through the Masterpost pinned to the top of my blog!

[knightprincess]

Scars (Commander Wolffe x Jedi Reader) Part 3

Warning: None Words: 1.9k Pronouns Used: She/Her - Use of Y/N and N/N (nickname)

"Koh-To-Ya, Master Plo," whispered (Y/N) upon waking. Looking around her quarters, she saw Plo peacefully reading over something on his datapad in the corner of the room. The room was just as quiet; no sound seemed to penetrate the durasteel walls despite the airbase being just meters away. 

"Koh-To-Ya, Little (N/N)," called Plo in response, shifting to place the datapad down and move closer to her. As normal, his voice was calm and filled with wisdom. All his swift motions across the room suggested that the concerns plaguing him had finally been settled. "How are you feeling?" questioned the wise Jedi Master the moment he was at her side. The medics had done a good job patching her up; a few stitches were all that remained of the head injury she'd sustained, and in a few weeks, there would be no trace of it. The gash to her side, however, would take a little longer to heal properly; it still sent numbing twinges or a sharp shot of pain to remind her it was there. 

"Like I fell down a chasm," replied (Y/N), her voice scratchy and broken from a prolonged period without use. Your Commander, is he okay?" she asked with concern, forgetting her own injuries and well-being in favor of the battle-worn commander she'd tried to save. As her fuzzy memories cleared up, she recalled catching him with the stem cells and vaguely recalled his yelled response. "Is he still pissed off?" she questioned, not bothering to sugarcoat her words, even in the face of her master. 

"Wolffe made a full recovery and was cleared for active duty a few days ago," responded Plo, not speaking of the changes he noticed regarding the loyal commander, at least not yet. "He's not angry, more confused, conflicted even," he added, bringing a taloned hand to his chin as if to ponder the changes. Many times, Plo found Wolffe watching over (Y/N) while off duty. His view of Night Sister, in particular, was changing, or at least his previous opinions of (Y/N) had. She was no longer an enemy, although Wolffe was clearly trying to figure out what she was to him now. 

"How long have I been out?" questioned (Y/N), at least having enough sense to realize it was far longer than a few hours, even more so if Wolffe had been cleared for duty days prior. "The 916th, what's to happen with them?" she added, her concern turning to the troopers she'd previously led rather than to her own health and healing. Rightly so, the Jedi Knight knew she'd be reassigned soon enough. The council never seemed to hesitate to send her around the galaxy. 

"Calm (N/N), the 916th are well taken care of; Master Yoda has taken command for now," asserted Plo, placing a hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder as if to aid in calming her and ensure she did not overexert herself. "You've been asleep for five rotations," he informed, seeing the shock wash over her features before being replaced with a more neutral expression. After a while, (Y/N) simply nodded, although she was still collecting her scattered thoughts and senses. She'd been out that long, and no one tried to transfer her back to Coruscant or a long-term medbay. Quickly, she figured Plo had prevented it; after all, her fear, almost hatred of medbays, wasn't a secret she kept to herself. Anyone who knew her knew she refused to be near a medbay after the events that transpired as a child. 

"I'm to be reassigned, aren't I?" commented (Y/N), her tone flat as she worded the question more matter-of-factly. She knew she would be reassigned, but the question was where and for how long this time. 

"Indeed you are," voiced Plo in response, taking a seat at her side once again, taking on the role of a father figure rather than a Jedi Master. "Shaak Ti has requested you return to Kamino. She says there is a specific unit that will benefit from your training," spoke the Kel Dor. "While there, I'd advise you to acquaint yourself with the Commando units. You're to be assigned as their permanent commander." 

"What changed the council's mind?" asked (Y/N) before she had a chance to stop the question from leaving her lips. However, she didn't regret asking it. She knew that if she didn't, it would eat away at her until she eventually found the courage to ask. 

"I put the notion to the council after the Wolf Pack mentioned it. As did several council members, both the senate and the commandoes agreed," recalled Plo, hearing the quiet thank you in response. Although he was sure, she meant it for more than just her new assignments. More than likely, she referred to remaining at the base instead of waking up in a clinical medbay somewhere, surrounded by reminders of the past she tried so hard to suppress and bombarded by the memories and anxiety it would cause. 

Just moments after (Y/N) fell into peaceful slumber again, a buzzing sound emanated from the door. The second it opened, Comet entered, holding on to (Y/N)'s lightsabers, the graceful weapons he'd spent hours most nights trying to mend, with little luck. The most he'd been able to do with his limited knowledge was to get the damaged one to buzz and overheat before powering off. Other than that, his only success was to add a little wolf charm to the hilt of the twin duel lightsabers. If only so (Y/N) had a reminder of them when she eventually left. 

"Wolffe's pacing around the hall again," gently spoke Comet, his voice quiet so as not to wake the peaceful Jedi again. Plo nodded once more before leaving the room, placing a hand on Comet's shoulder. 

Since the fall, Wolffe has been different. He's all-focused and still does his job perfectly when on duty, but he seemed confused and even conflicted when off duty. Plo had noticed and subtly told his commander he was there should he feel the need to speak of what bothered him. The wise Kel Dor could sense the conflicted feelings and confusion revolving around (Y/N) and her actions to save him and will to do so at a great cost to herself, even after his prior treatment of her. 

"Runi," quietly voiced Comet, his words no louder than a whisper. His attention was on the lightsabers clutched in his gloved hands. I tried fixing your lightsaber, but it doesn't like me. It buzzes and overheats now. Kinda like Wolffe when he's off duty," he joked, stepping closer to (Y/N), seemingly peacefully sleeping. No doubt, the powerful painkillers had kicked in. "I don't know if anyone else said this, but thank you for saving our grumpy brother. He appreciates it too, even if he doesn't outwardly show it," finished Comet, as he gently placed the lightsabers on the shelf just behind where (Y/N) slept. After completing his task, he left the room once more, making sure the door slid shut properly before leaving, only glancing back upon hearing Wolffe's familiar all-be-it hesitated growls, likely warding away the civvi medic again. 

"This is the most I've seen Wolffe confused in some time," stated Boost, witnessing as the commander began to pace back and forth. He was agitated, confused, and clearly conflicted, more so than he normally was. There was little doubt (Y/N) was the cause of his confusion, especially if the mumbled words in the dead of night and sleep were anything to go by. 

"I don't know; he was pretty messed up after losing his eye," replied Sinker, recalling the struggle well. In Wolffe's mind, all Jedi became lightsaber-wielding maniacs, even their wise General Plo. Civvi's were still unknown territory for Wolffe; he'd yet to regain the confidence he'd once had before the Malevolence and losing his eye. After the Malevolence, the commander had begun to shut himself off and closed off his heart from caring about others for fear he'd lose them like all those at Abregardo. 

Asajj Ventress, taking his eye, forced away any softness Wolffe may have had toward those outside his brothers and Wolf Pack. He became so much colder towards Civvi, always expecting judgment from them, normally harsh judgment at that. Most of the time, he didn't give civvies a chance to know him or see the softer side that had become a well-guarded secret. 

"He likes her. What's to be confused about?" voiced Warthog, leaning against the wall. Normally, he'd take the chance to tease Wolffe, but he knew better than to do that at the moment. Especially when the chances of his head being bitten off were higher than normal. "You know, other than she's a Night Sister, and he swore to hate all Children of Dathomir," chuckled the pilot, knowing if Wolffe heard him now, he'd be growled at for days. 

"Did you return her sabers?" came Wolffe's booming voice, startling the group of four. Warthog, in particular, paled as he turned to face his commander. He'd expected to see the normal flat unamusement painted on Wolffe's features, but instead, he was met with something else entirely. Wolffe clearly displayed his exhaustion, although that didn't stop the commander from whacking the pilot upside the head, at least confirming he'd heard his words. "I'm not confused. I just ... don't understand her." 

"She'll be leaving soon. Should be easier for you to forget about her and return to your grouchy self," spoke the second civvi medic. This one was male and hardly a joy to be around. Most of the time, he'd taken delight in naming each clone insulting names, calling them by their identification numbers, or just outright being callous. "I doubt that would be much trouble for the rest of you mindless soldiers."

"Is it still against the rules to shoot civvi personnel?" asked Sinker, making sure his words were loud enough for the civvi to hear as he all but stomped away. No doubt, he was heading to (Y/N)'s quarters to check on her. Now she had woken, it would only be a matter of time before she was set to Kamino for her next assignment. 

"Unfortunately, yes," voiced Boost in response, rolling his own brown eyes at the thought of having to put up with the civvi for several more months, at least until his rotation with them ended. "As much as I agree, the temptation to commit said war crime is there. It's not worth the court marshaling we'd get for it." 

"General Plo's disappointment would be far worse," Wolffe said before walking away, hearing the boys following along as if they understood his silent intentions of returning to the barracks. However, the commander became suspicious of their motives. Were they following to keep out of trouble or to begin the thought-out interrogation they had been summing up the courage to commit for days? 

Series Masterlist

[panam1c]

Satine & Anakin Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker & 501st Legion, 700 words

Satine finds, to her surprise, a moment alone with Obi-Wan's Jedi companion. Anakin Skywalker, she thinks his name is, though she hasn't exchanged more than a scarce sentence with him since Obi-Wan introduced him.

He, like Obi-Wan, is wearing armour on his arms and shoulders, placed over the top of his Jedi robes. Satine doesn’t miss the significance of that; the armour of war covering up the robes of a peacekeeper. Yet another sign of how this war has changed the Jedi.

There are Republic troopers lining up along the hall she and Skywalker are standing in. They stand with identical stiff postures, in their identical armour, with their blasters held in identical positions. None of them talk as they line up, nor so much as exchange a look between the dark visors of their helmets.

Satine wonders what the people of the Republic see when they look at those troopers. Do they see glory? The spirit of the Republic, marching off to achieve them victory? How do they not see the face of the war itself, the symptoms of the plague worming its way into the galaxy? How can none of them see the Senate’s cold indifference in those blank visors, the Chancellor’s cruel fist in those gloved hands wrapped around blasters?

"Your thoughts are in turmoil," Skywalker remarks, quite out of the blue. "Is something wrong, Duchess?"

She huffs, glancing at him. "Nothing is wrong. And please don't look into my mind."

"I wasn't." He holds up his hands, much like a gesture of peace. What an irony. "You're just broadcasting your emotions quite loudly. I couldn't help but notice." He pauses, side-eyeing her. "Is it something I can help with?"

Satine looks back at the rows of Republic troopers, the white sentinels posted at even spaces down the hall. Like the columns that hold the ship up, though five times as dangerous.

"What do you see," she asks before she can think better of it, "when you look at them?"

Skywalker frowns, glancing between her and the Republic troopers. "I'm sorry?"

"Most Republic citizens, they see the face of victory and glory. They see their defenders, their noble warriors on the front line." She pauses, taking a calming breath. "When I look at them, I can only see how low the Republic has fallen. How much this war has changed it.” She shakes her head sadly. "But what do you see, when you look at them?"

Skywalker looks at the troopers for a long moment, face pulled tight.

"I'm sorry, Duchess," he says, looking back at her, "but I don't see any of that. I don’t see anything.”

"You have to see something," she insists.

Skywalker looks back at the troopers, a frown on his face. “I don’t know, Duchess. I see… Rex, I guess. And Click, and Trip, and Cable. Trip and Cable are talking on the internal comms together. Rudder is… dozing off. Brine is trying to hide an injury on his shoulder, before the medic notices it. Daze is trying to scratch an itch without breaking stance.”

Skywalker stops talking, but his eyes keep running down the line of troopers in the hall.

"Hmm," Satine murmurs, clasping her hands together as she looks back at the troopers. "I see."

"Excuse me, Duchess," Skywalker says rather suddenly, offering her a quick bow.

She barely has time to get out an "of course," before he's marching off down the hall.

"Slug!" he shouts, and every trooper's helmet turns in his direction. "You're not supposed to be back on active duty yet; your leg hasn't healed."

The trooper he's addressing shrinks back against the wall, like a child caught out past bedtime, and Satine can't help the amused smile that comes to her mouth.

"You're going to see the medic right now,” she hears Skywalker's voice say as she leaves, echoing down the halls of the Coronet behind her, "and Brine is going too. Don’t think I didn’t notice that shoulder injury!”

[book-of-baba-fett]

Illicit Affairs - Chapter 7

After being captured, Talia's situation grows worse as she's handed off to a greater foe. Rex struggles with the confines of his own inability to act, ready to jump at the first chance to find Talia.

Captain Rex x OC (Talia Riva)

Chapter Rating: M (series overall is E)

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, torture by electrocution (not too graphic, I stuck with the canon examples of people being mostly fine afterwards),

A/N: Sorry for the long wait for this one! Also, this is a bit of a longer one again so I would recommend checking out the AO3 link just because I feel like that scrolls a lot better than tumblr, plus it keeps all my formatting. Once again thanks to the incomparable @galacticgraffiti for being an amazing Beta reader; i think I look forward to your reactions the most out of anything in this process. Additional notes at end. (Psst, if you started following me from Can’t Let You Go- you should check this out)

Ao3 Link

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

20 BBY - Unknown

Sweat dripped down Talia’s back as she marched through the dusty paths of the village; children scurried past her, running, and playing as they flitted through clone troopers carrying supplies. She smiled at their giggling and envied them for their ability to see excitement in what was a stressful situation for the elders of their tribe. She and the 412th had been there for two days, called in for a relief mission after wildfires had devoured much of the planet’s surface. The village of relocated survivors was surrounded by scorched terrain, the air still dense with smoke. The fires had moved in a different direction, but with a change of the wind they could make their way for the village again. Even if it wasn’t this round, next year when the dry season would come back, chances were the fires would plague the ecosystem again. The Republic had originally sent the troops to deliver food, water, and medical aid to the people, but after arriving, Talia conferred with The Council who agreed that this planet was no longer habitable for sentients; a few more well-off systems in the Republic were able to shelter the people and what was a supply mission changed to an evacuation.

Exhaustion ached in Talia’s bones as she coughed into her robes, the smoke-filled air not helping her tiredness. It wasn’t exertion weakening her, she was just overseeing and offering advice to the people, but it was her conversations with the tribe elders that dragged on her mind; it wasn’t easy convincing people to abandon the only home they had ever known. She leaned back against a wall, taking a much-needed sip from her canteen when the familiar rumble of GAR gunships rumbled overhead and her comm went off.

“The dropships have just arrived to the clearing, General,” her ranking clone officer, Captain Storm, announced over the comm.

“Thanks, Captain. Start loading the refugees who are already there, I’ll gather any stragglers in the village.”

Besides a few more stubborn residents that she cleared out, the village was deserted; empty homes and buildings, echoes of the people who had lived there up until now. Talia was used to seeing ruin from war, she was numb to it, but situations like this, where there was no cause, just the harsh will of nature was a cruel awakening; no forces of good or evil did this to these people, the universe was just unkind.

The path to the clearing was a dusty, rocky cavern; a mixture of orange dirt and soot caked the plastoid of the clone’s armor as they waved the villagers along, sentries placed along the path to offer aid. Talia squeezed her way past the villagers to the entrance of the clearing. One dropship had already taken off, Captain Storm going with them to situate the refugees on the light-cruiser orbiting the planet before he would return to aid in the evacuation again.

The birds of the planet had been long silent in the wake of the fires, having long escaped to higher surfaces, but their eerie silence felt louder than it had been moments before. The hot, dry air of the planet felt colder, as if it had been shrouded in darkness, but the sun still shined brightly overhead. Her hair on end, Talia tried to calm herself, unsure of what she was feeling, when she saw two figures on the other end of the cavern.

A fist clenched around Talia’s lung as she saw the two Zabrak males she had only seen in briefings before. One large and hulking, with yellow skin painted with black tattoos. The other was smaller in frame, but no less menacing. His tattoos were a similar black pattern, but his skin crimson red. Maul snarled and activated a red bladed lightsaber, Savage Opress following in turn and wielding his double-bladed saber shortly after.

“Fit as many refugees on the dropships as you possibly can, get them all out of here now,” Talia barked at the clone beside her, igniting her own double-bladed saber. Maul and Savage sprinted down the canyon, carving through the first few sentries stationed before they could react. The clones on the higher ground of the cavern opened fire, but no shots hit their targets. Savage leapt up, cutting down more clones where they stood on the ledge as Maul’s eyes caught Talia sprinting towards him.

Their blades clashed, the harsh crackling filling the air as cyan met red. Maul’s teeth bared as Talia launched swipe after swipe, her movements quick and deft in the hopes of catching the former Sith off balance, but his skill was far above her own. Maul unleashed his own fury filled jabs, Talia struggling to twirl her blade fast enough to keep him at bay. She Force-pushed him back, stealing a quick breath as she heard heavy footsteps behind her.

She rolled away from Savage’s blade as it swung over her head, her leggings snagging along the rough ground as she tried to put space between her and the brothers. Shots still fired from the few clones left were her only hope at taking them on; if she could separate them, she might be able to hold them off long enough before they made it to the refugees scurrying on the dropships. She used the Force to push Maul further down the canyon, the rocky terrain proving harsh for his prosthetic legs to grip as he slid back, rage filling his face.

She turned to face Savage, who was already launching another blow at her. She leapt over him; he was able to block her strike just in time. Masked by a blur of cyan and red, they dueled; the strength of the Zabrak was difficult for Talia to challenge when their blades met, but her smaller size and speed helped her flit around him easily. She succeeded in knocking Savage back, about to strike a fatal blow when screams filled the air behind her.

Maul had taken down the remaining clones in the canyon easily, and now was going after the straggling villagers. A single dropship still lingered in the clearing; but scanning the clearing she knew there was no way the remaining villagers would fit on it.

“Launch the last dropship,” she ordered reluctantly.

“But Sir, how will you-“

“Launch it, and don’t send any troops until they’re taken care of,” Talia yelled. This was a relief mission – they were on a lighter class ship with fewer troops; they didn’t have the manpower to fight them on land. They could open fire into the clearing, but she didn’t want the blood of any remaining troops and villagers on her hands.

But it’s already on your hands, that nagging voice in her head called, you caused their deaths by not being able to get them out in time.

A scorching pain burned her calf; Savage had recovered his blade and sliced Talia while she was lost in her thoughts. She had moved quickly enough so the cut wasn’t too deep, but agony flamed up her leg. Yelping in pain, she Force-pushed the Zabrak back as she limped into the clearing.

Maul withdrew his blade from the stomach of a villager as he turned to Talia, an arrogant malice filling his glare. Anger surged through Talia’s veins, propelling her forward as she charged at Maul. She lunged, ignoring the pain seizing her leg, striking with a fury unfamiliar to her usual style. She wanted Maul to pay for what he had done, to pay with his life for the massacre he had committed. She grunted with each blow, her frustration mounting as Maul blocked each strike, a chilling smirk growing on his face. She was too sloppy, her injury holding her back, but she could power through this, she could take him, she just needed the right strike to-

Red burned her vision as her skin scorched; when the bright blade entered her view she had angled her head back to ease the blow but the tip of Maul’s saber still burned as it came close to her skin. Cursing in pain and temporarily blinded by the brightness, Talia stumbled back.

A phantom hand clasped around her neck, lifting her into the air as her lightsaber dropped from her hands. She fought to breath, her hands clawing hopelessly at her neck as if that would relieve some of the tension. Her vision blurred; her limbs grew heavy.

“You have some spirit, I’ll give you that,” Maul’s mocking whisper reached her ears.

***

Cold durasteel pressed into Talia’s cheek as her eyes jolted open. She was fighting for breath as if her throat was still constricted. Propping herself up, she didn’t recognize her surroundings but as her limbs moved stiffly, flashes of the chase through Coruscant entered her memory, of the speeder being attacked and Cad Bane stunning her before she blacked out. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light, only the glowing red of a ray shield barring her in her cell allowing her to see. In the darkness of space, she couldn’t estimate how long she had been out or how far they were from Coruscant.

Memories of the past few days lingered in her mind; maybe she had gotten a bit more than she asked for by wanting to get off Coruscant and out of the Temple. But more than the excitement of the chase she thought of Rex with a surge of guilt; he had been so cautious with her and taken the threat of the hunters so seriously, she only hoped he would handle the news of her capture ok.

Talia jumped at a clattering outside her cell; a nearby box on a shelf was…jumping? Her eyes narrowed at the box as it moved again on the shelf, closer to the ledge this time. With another nudge, the box tumbled off, clattering on the ground as Talia winced; there was no way Cad Bane wouldn’t hear that. A low humming droned from the box, then D3 popped out of it.

“D3, did you stowaway?” Talia whispered at the little droid, who hummed in agreement as it floated outside her cell. “Can you get me out of here?”

The little droid popped out its scomp link, ready to press it into the junction on the wall next to the cell when the thud of dull boots echoed down the hall. Talia signaled for D3 to back away, not wanting the little droid to be caught, and it hid behind the shelves just as Bane rounded down the stairs at the end of the corridor. Talia glared at him as she leaned against the wall of her cell, the bounty hunter pausing outside the ray shield with one hand on his holstered blaster and the other flicking a toothpick out of his mouth.

“Bad news, little lady,” he drawled, eyeing Talia in the cell. “Gorga called off the bounty on your head.”

“Sorry to hear you went through all that trouble for nothing,” Talia scoffed, keeping eye contact with Bane. “If you turn around quick enough, perhaps the Order will let this go and you’ll be a free man.”

“Aren’t the Jedi preachers of peace and forgiveness or…something of that nature? Don’t exactly seem like the type to be holding grudges,” He lazily questioned. “Besides, they wouldn’t pay me as much as who I found to hand you off to.”

Talia groaned, cracking her neck and forcing an expression of boredom as she pondered his words, trying to ignore the pit of anxiety forming in her stomach. “Care to share who this mysterious buyer is?”

“You seem clever – who do you think would spend credits on apprehending a Jedi General?”

***

Rex’s knuckles were bruising but he didn’t halt the harshness of his blows, instead continuing his routine against the punching bag in the training room. Sweat drenched the back of his shirt, his muscles ached from overuse and lack of sleep, but he continued his barrage. The other clones in the facility left him a large breadth, none of them understanding why the usually friendly Captain was scowling, the normal half smile that could be seen on his lips while he showed off to the shinies was gone, replaced by a frustrated scowl. The boys from the 501st had left long ago, but Rex stayed.

He had been up late into the night, looking for anything he could find on any possible sightings of Talia since she had been taken en route to the Chancellor’s, but the trail was silent. And when he tried to sleep, his mind wouldn’t slow; he wanted the soft comfort of a woman next to him, the woman who was haunting his mind as he worried if she was OK or not. The Council was planning on sending a Knight who Rex didn’t know after them, something that frustrated him because he had been hoping Skywalker or Commander Tano would be assigned the mission, giving Rex a reasonable excuse to tag along or ask questions. Instead, he was left in the dark, waiting for word through briefings or until it was too late for him to do anything. And it was everything Rex hated, the inaction, the inability to take things into his own hands. He had gotten used to a certain amount of freedom while working under General Skywalker for these past two years; the General and Rex built on each other’s creativity to solve problems in ways most other battalions wouldn’t think of. Maybe this other Knight searching for Talia had missed something he or Skywalker would normally pick up on, what if they were slower and their delay pushed Talia further and further away…

“I think you won, vod,” a voice called out behind Rex. He turned, panting with his fists still clenched to see Cody strolling over to him. Rex relaxed his hands, his fingers tense and slow to move after being sealed for so long. Cody eyed him curiously, his brows furrowed in concern. “Everything alright?’

Rex nodded at his brother, lifting the bottom of his shirt to his face to wipe the sweat rolling down his skin in droplets. Rex groaned internally as Cody’s look didn’t falter; none of his other brothers seemed to have the same power to reading him as Cody did. Rex paced over to the bench he had his water bottle out, gulped down half the contents then found an answer for Cody. “Nothing, just haven’t been sleeping well.”

Cody frowned, still watching Rex until he nodded in understanding. “You should talk to Kix and get some of that new med they’ve started handing out; knock you out for a dreamless sleep. That, or a good Corellian whiskey, should help.”

Rex exhaled deeply, sitting down on the training bench, and examining his knuckles; he had broken skin so he would have to see Kix anyway. Rex had been offered the sleep tranquilizers before, told how they would help him relax and get a good night’s rest, but the one time he took them he didn’t like the fog he woke up in, he felt like he was two steps behind the full rotation. If he could deal with combat in real life, he could deal with it in his sleep- that was his thought process. But Cody couldn’t know the real reason why he wasn’t sleeping, the obsession driving him up late into the night. He just nodded at his brother, agreeing to talk to Kix.

“See you at the briefing later,” Cody said, still looking thoughtfully at Rex before he turned back to his own men who he was about to lead in drills. Rex sat back, squeezing another bit of water in his mouth as his heart rate slowed. He had almost forgotten about the briefing updating about the stage of sieges in the war, these meetings before usually drove his mind as a leader, wanting to keep updated so he could prepare his men for whatever assignment they had next. Then he got the perk of seeing Talia in them before anything had ever happened between them. Something he wouldn’t be lucky enough to get today.

***

Suspended by beams of blue energy, her hands in binders behind her back, Talia’s form slowly rotated around the interrogation room, occasionally making eye contact with one of the commando droids stationed around the room. She groaned as she tried to stretch her sore limbs, her confines barely allowing her to move. Her memories of the past few hours were scattered; after revealing he was selling her off to the Separatists, Bane had stunned Talia once again, probably figuring a knocked-out Jedi was easier to deal with than a conscious one. She had awoken a few moments ago, not bothering to fight her way out. She wondered if D3 had made it off Bane’s ship or if the little droid was travelling somewhere into space with the bounty hunter, she didn’t like the latter idea, but she knew wherever the droid was it probably was figuring out a way to notify the Republic of her location, or as close to her location as it could. As far as she could tell, she was aboard a Separatist cruiser, heading toward the Force knows where.

The door to her cell slid open, more commando droids filing in the room. Talia stiffened, recognizing the last figure to step forward through the door.

“My apologies for meeting under such circumstances, my child,” Count Dooku spoke grandiosely as he stepped into the cell, gesturing to the guards around the room. “I’m sure you understand the precautions of course.”

“Oh, understood completely,” Talia glared back, rattling her wrists in the cuff. Her eyes caught a ball of black and gold crawling along the floor of the cell but she kept her gaze locked on the Sith, “But I have to correct you, we have met before, just not in person; we spoke over a holo while I was on Kadavo with Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Dooku nodded, “Ahh yes, again, I must apologize for that turn of events as well.”

“You seem to be full of apologies, Count,” Talia countered. “Perhaps you can let me go and I will consider forgiveness?”

“Oh no, my child, I’m afraid I have some questions for you.”

***

Opportunities to go to the Jedi Temple were rare, and when he did go Rex was usually just in the hangar about to leave for missions or attending briefings in one of the Temple’s grand presentation rooms, like today. Cody stood next to him in a corner of the room, letting the Jedi stand closer to the holotable, a blue hologram of the galaxy elevating above it. General Windu was updating all the attendees of the briefing on the current sieges and Republic advances on the war front when R2-D2 burst into the room; the General droned on, unperturbed by the interruption but Anakin stood at attention, beckoning his droid over. R2 beeped rapidly at Anakin, Rex tried to divide his attention between the briefing and the info the droid was spouting.

“Do you have something to add, Skywalker?” Master Windu asked with a hint of annoyance in his tone.

“Sorry Master Windu,” Anakin replied, gesturing to his droid. “R2 said he’s received an important transmission.”

Windu nodded and allowed R2 to scomp in, the droid connected, and a hologram filled the table in front of them; Talia bound, her hands behind her back as she rotated in a pulse field, Count Dooku pacing in front of her. Rex tensed, his eyes locked on Talia in the holo, her lips pursed and her jaw set. The angle was low, as if it was from a corner of whatever interrogation room Talia was held in.

“Skywalker, can you track the location of the transmission?” Master Windu spoke up.

“If we can hold the connection with D3 long enough we can pinpoint it, the signal is pretty weak though,” Anakin answered, his brows furrowed as he kneeled in front of R2.

Dooku’s resonant voice filled the room as he spoke to Talia, questioning her about Republic forces in the Outer Rim. Dooku paused in front of Talia, his brow arched as she stayed silent, her gaze focused ahead of her. Dooku sighed, then raised his hand.

Talia’s body seized as lightning surged from Dooku’s hand to her, her eyes bugging wide and her face straining, lips still tightly pressed as if she was trying to contain a scream, a battle she would lose as she shrieked in agony.

Ice ran through Rex’s veins; a chilling anger coursing through him as he watched the scene on the holo. He was locked in place, wanting to look away but his eyes couldn’t leave the scene on the hologram, his expression hidden by the helmet he still donned. Out of the corner of his vision, Ahsoka shuffled some of the younger padawans out of the room, a tense muttering filling the air as the Jedi and clones in the room watched Talia’s torture.

The lightning ceased and Talia’s head fell forward, her chin to her heaving chest as she caught her breath. Count Dooku stood in front of her, patiently waiting and ready to spring another question on her.

Talia’s face scrunched, her lips moving wordlessly as if she was talking to herself. She took a deep breath, and angled her head back up to face Dooku, a determined look in her eyes as she rasped out, “Oh come on, Dooku, you’re going to have to be more convincing than that.”

In any other situation that would have earned a smirk from Rex, but in this moment his breath caught; this wasn’t the time for snide comments and remarks. He half expected Dooku to unleash another burst of lightning in retaliation, but the Sith only grinned and listed off another question. When Talia refused to answer again though, Dooku did not hold back as he fired more electricity.

“Anakin, do we have that location yet,” Obi-Wan turned his head away from the projection, an exhausted expression on his face.

Anakin’s face was contorted in a scowl as he fiddled with a knob on R2’s plating, “Just need to hold the signal a little longer.”

***

Talia’s head fell back during a moment of short relief after the last round of electricity ended; muscles in her leg twitched uncontrollably and sweat beaded on her brow as the residual agony from multiple rounds of Dooku’s questioning seeped to her bones. She could barely form a coherent thought anymore; she couldn’t even remember the last question Dooku had asked her. She had to learn to hold her tongue, Dooku had grown tired of her charming remarks and had taken to shocking her with additional bolts of energy each time, still standing there with a damn grin on his face. All Dooku’s questions were about the war effort; Republic forces locations, what trade routes they were using, any of their battle plans. Talia wished her withholding of information came from a strong will alone, but in all truth she had been back on Coruscant for so long that she couldn’t answer some of his questions, something she had a sinking feeling he knew by the smug look on his face.

“A different form of question for you, my dear,” Dooku lazily started, still holding his prim exterior as if he were holding a simple meeting. Talia rolled her head back to meet his eyes. “You recently ran into the renegades Maul and Savage Opress, is that correct?”

Talia gulped but felt a simple relief for being able to answer a question that wouldn’t hurt the Republic. “Yes.”

“And he slaughtered most of your men as well as some refugees you were meant to be aiding?”

Talia’s teeth gritted, “Yes.”

Dooku nodded slowly, pacing around Talia’s floating body. He paused and turned his head back at her, “And how did that make you feel?”

Talia huffed out a humorless laugh, only to cringe in pain as her muscles still ached. “Obviously I felt great about it.”

“You were angry.”

“I don’t get angry.”

“You’re still angry even as I mention it.”

“That’s only from your presence.”

Dooku smirked and continued his pacing, “Then how would you feel to know that Savage Opress is dead?”

Talia’s forced tenseness faltered; that was news to her and the Council; Obi-Wan had just reported them as being on Mandalore after usurping the throne and murdering The Duchess. Talia recovered her firm stance and answered, “Then the galaxy is a slightly safer place.”

Dooku nodded once more, pausing in his pace in front of Talia. “How did you survive the fight with Maul?”

“Barely.” Talia gritted out.

“It must have been a great duel; you seem unscathed…mostly,” Dooku pointed out, gesturing to the pale scar on her face. Talia worked her jaw, ignoring the probing questions; she didn’t want to think about the fight with Maul, why was Dooku focused on it?

“I’m just intrigued,” Dooku continued, sensing the direction of Talia’s thoughts, “Maul slaughtered several Jedi without a thought yet somehow you survived the encounter; was it owed to your skill or perhaps something else?”

“If there’s some information you have that I’m missing, please do share-“

“Maul could have taken a killing strike, but he faltered.”

“How do you know-“

“He lowered his blade and walked away; do you ever wonder why?”

Talia breath hitched as visions of that day flooded her mind again, every wrong move she made, every trooper she had lost. That familiar cold pitted at the base of her spine as she thought of Maul’s snarling face as he released her from the chokehold, holding his blade about to strike.

When Talia didn’t answer, Dooku continued, “I was curious myself; I had been following Maul’s rampage so it stood out to me that of all the Jedi he faced, the only survivors were you and Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I’m sorry, my dear, but you are no Kenobi.

“I recently had to interrogate Maul in regards to some other information, but I had time to ask him, expecting to at least hear some daring tale of how he barely evaded Republic forces, but he left you there for dead until your backup arrived, didn’t he?”

“Are you getting to the point of this?” Talia snapped.

“Maul confessed he had a vision of you the moment he was about to strike; of you working at his side.”

Talia huffed a weak laugh, before meeting the Sith’s eyes; what kind of ploy was this?

“Yes, it is strange to imagine a Jedi Knight as the right hand of a former Sith. Well, according to his vision, a fallen Jedi. I wonder what the Council would think of this news.”

The exhaustion of the electrocution was wearing on her brain, a tiredness creeping through her mind as she struggled to find the meaning behind Dooku’s claims. That prickling cold still lingered in her as she glared at him, that emptiness in her chest.

“There is a darkness in you, child; you’ve tried to bury it, but it lingers beneath the surface, waiting to break free. I can help you do that.”

Talia scoffed at him, head tilting at the beams holding her in place, “If these are your recruitment methods, I have some suggestions for you.”

The Count just smiled at her. “Tell me, how does the Order treat you? Do you feel like they are truly helping you reach your potential with the Force?”

Talia was about to snap back, but her retort was caught in her throat. Her eyes met the Dooku’s and she saw the truth in his words as she thought of weeks being shut in the Temple, of how she was practically begrudgingly allowed to take her Trials just because her Master had died and they needed more generals. The coldness surged from her stomach, clouding her thoughts as she truly doubted her place among the Jedi…No, snap out of it, it's just some trick of his. Dooku’s smirk confirmed her suspicions, his eyes reading her face as if he was seeing her internal debate.

“You could do so much more if you weren’t so limited by the narrow minded views of the Jedi, don’t you want to see what you could accomplish?”

Something nagged at Talia’s mind as she listened to his words, a memory holding her back.

“I’ll never join you.”

Dooku sighed and raised his hand, “A shame, then.” Lightning left his fingertips again as Talia screamed out.

***

“Got a lock on the location,” Anakin gritted out before the hologram cut out at Talia’s form falling limp. Rex released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his body tense from the minute of watching the interrogation while they waited for Anakin to work on the signal from the transmission. Rex’s thoughts were divided; he didn’t want to see any more of the scene that had been playing, but the unknown void hanging in the air from the spot Talia had just been filling felt worse in his gut.

The room was quiet apart from the murmuring of a few Jedi; the lead Council members stood circled around the holotable, their faces pensive as they processed what had just taken place.

“So what’s our plan of action?” Anakin called out, interrupting the silence.

“I don’t think there is anything we can do, young Skywalker,” Ki Adi Mundi spoke, his hands resting behind his back. Rex’s own frustration mirrored in Anakin’s face.

“What do you mean, we can’t just leave her there!” Anakin shouted, his fist clenching at his side.

“We are too divided in the war front, and they are heading into Separatist space; we cannot risk the men to rescue one lone Jedi right now.”

“It wouldn’t just be her,” the words left Rex before he could stop himself for the sake of propriety in front of Command. The heads of every Jedi in the room turned to face Rex, even Cody next to him tilted his head to look at Rex; he was helmeted, but Rex could practically see the bemused expression on his brother’s face. Rex continued hurriedly as the silence grew, “If we plan this right, this gives us an opportunity to take Dooku into custody.”

The room was silent again, sweat beading on Rex’s neck as he cursed himself but then Mace Windu nodded, pulling up the starmap with the location of Dooku’s ship again, “It does provide us with a unique chance; Dooku won’t know we have his location... but it’s still risky.”

“With all due respect, General,” another voice spoke out, belonging to the blue holo figure of a clone with cropped hair, three tattooed lines etched from his lip to his chin; Captain Storm from the 412th Battalion, Talia’s men. “That’s our General, and if there’s anything we can do to get her back you can be damned sure the 412th will do it.”

“But you’re on Sullust and their course seems to be set for Serenno; by the time you arrive she’ll be out of your reach.” Obi-Wan spoke up, his hand resting on his chin as he thought out the problem.

“The 104th is on Lantilles; right on their path,” the resonant voice of Plo Koon spoke, his body flickering in the hologram as he gestured to the proud form of Commander Wolffe beside him. “If we time it right; we can cut them off, buying time for the 412th to arrive.”

“Both of your forces are too depleted. Dooku’s traveling with too many ships; even with both of you combined you would barely have enough to hold them off in space,” Anakin said, his brows furrowed as he studied the map. He crossed his arms, his serious gaze turned to a smug grin as he faced the rest of the Jedi. “Good thing the 501st is available to help you guys out. What do you say Rex, think you can get the boys ready to go?”

“Right away, sir!” Rex answered, determination swelling in his chest. The meeting adjourned and Anakin joined him so they could head back to the barracks to get everything in order for a quick departure; Rex was running through every plan in his head, everything he knew from previous missions. There was no room for failure this time around.

***

“The 104th and the 412th have already engaged the fleet, by the time we get there, the battle should be in full force,” Anakin explained from the pilot seat of the shuttle soaring through hyperspace; the majority of the 501st remained on their venator to join the naval battle, but Anakin, Ahsoka, and Rex were leading two squads to infiltrate Dooku’s flagship and rescue Talia. If all went well in the battle outside the ship, they would be able to apprehend Dooku and end the war. Rex was being selfish, a trait he had never associated with himself, but his priority was Talia. In the meeting he had suggested Dooku’s capture as a way to sway the Jedi, but he just needed to do anything that would lead him to Talia.

Right now, the shuttle was planning on getting out of lightspeed right under Dooku’s Providence class dreadnaught, a trick Anakin had perfected. Then the two squads would split up; Anakin and Rex leading one, Ahsoka and Fives leading another. The dreadnaught was a massive warship in the Separatist Navy, and they needed to cover as much ground as possible to find Talia, while also maintaining some semblance of stealth.

According to plan, the shuttle lurched out of lightspeed right under the belly of the ship, latching on and providing an access point for the clones to board the ship. Rex was the first one out of the shuttle, the hallway they had latched onto was deserted. Signaling the rest of the boarding party that the coast was clear, Rex rounded around the nearest corner with his DC-17s raised. Two unfortunate droids that were stationed in the corridor were quickly reduced to piles of scrap, clearing the way to the lift that Rex and Anakin’s squad needed.

“Remember the plan; we’ll scope out detention block A while you and your men investigate the interrogation cells in block C,” Anakin relayed to Ahsoka, gesturing down the hall with his head. “As soon as one group has Talia, we comm and we’re out of here. Do not engage Dooku on your own.”

“Why, want to save all the fun for yourself, Master?” Ashoka shot Anakin a goading smile. She nodded at Rex, waved Fives along after her and their squad sprinted down the corner. Blasters at the ready, Rex boarded the lift with Anakin and the members of their squad. They were going off layouts of similar Providence class ships to map their way around the massive destroyer; the shuttle had docked close enough to both squads targets that with luck they should able to make it pretty far without detection and few droids in their path, the outside battle leaving most of the droids at stations. As far as they could tell, no alerts had been raised to warn the Separatists of their presence.

The lift slowed and they exited to another empty level, goosebumps starting to rise on Rex’s neck; it was one thing for the droids to be otherwise occupied during a battle, but having encountered only two sentries thus far was an anomaly. It felt like the path was being cleared for them. As they rounded another corner to a long, wide corridor to find no droids, Rex’s steps slowed.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Rex’s modulated voice sounded out, he raised a hand up ordering his men to halt. Anakin suddenly stiffened behind him, igniting his blade.

“Take cover!” Anakin shouted. Rex rolled to the side of the hallway, taking cover in an indent of the wall as an explosion range out.

Harsh screams and large thuds hitting the durasteel wall signaled to Rex that some of his men had fallen, but the air grew dense from a smoke grenade so he couldn’t tell how many he had lost. The only thing he could see was the blue glow of Anakin’s saber cutting through the smoke, quickly joined by red blaster fire aiming in their direction. The lightsaber easily deflected all shots fired at it, Anakin advancing towards the fire. Rex fired his blasters in the direction Anakin was heading, knowing that the droids would be clustered together so the odds were he could take out a few before his vision improved. He crawled out of his cover, moving forward to follow his General when blaster fire sounded from behind him.

Shab.

He tossed a droid popper in the direction of the fire, hoping it would provide their tail end enough cover while Anakin pressed forward. Still, he didn’t like how the droids had so easily caged them in, they had run so many similar missions to this before and had never encountered a problem this early. The smoke still filled the air, now thickened from the blasts hitting the walls around them. His sight was a mixture of blue and red bolts, the red quickly overpowering the blue as more of the clones fell. Rex gritted his teeth; he wasn’t going out this way, in some back hallway of a Separatist cruiser while Talia lay in a cell.

Something hard thudded into his head, knocking Rex to the ground, just before a red bolt flew through the spot he was standing in. A strange buzzing filled his ears, before it cut out and a light, almost spider-like feeling crawled up his arm. Shaking it off and rolling to the side, Rex aimed his blaster at the cause of the uncomfortable sensation.

“D3?” Rex grunted out in confusion. The little droid beeped rapidly at Rex, a light flashing from its tiny body and pointing up. When Rex didn’t move, the droid let out a long beep, as if it were sighing, then drifted up to the ceiling. Rex’s gaze followed the droid to where it disappeared.

The vents.

“General!” Rex called out, vaguely aware of Anakin’s form in the smoke. He glanced up at the ceiling, too far out of his height’s reach. Haar’chak. “I need a lift!”

Normally Rex disliked the weightlessness he felt when a Force user lifted him, but it felt different this time around since he was requesting it. Once in the vents, he crawled forward to make room for anyone else. When Anakin was the only one to follow, Rex knew the rest of his squad had fallen. Keeping as quiet as possible, they moved ahead, the grated voices of the droids below announcing that they had defeated the intruders. D3’s tiny figure bobbed ahead of Rex; this must be how it had remained undetected on the destroyer for so long. Rex made a mental note about how he would have to get some upgrades for the damn clanker once they got out of this mess.

D3 led them down a slightly different path than they had planned on taking, no doubt avoiding other patches of droids. Rex didn’t like this sneaking around, he preferred to take the enemy head on, feeling like he was more in control of a situation he could blast his way through. But if this is what it took to find Talia, he would follow the droid’s lead.

Once in a clear spot, D3 signaled for Rex and Anakin to drop out of the vents. A sealed durasteel door sat at the end of the hallway, blocked by ray shields.

“They must have the detention block on lockdown,” Rex mumbled, holding his blasters in front of him. Tilting his head at Anakin, he gritted, “Guess we’ve lost the stealth aspect of this mission, Sir.”

“Yeah, that never does seem to last,” Anakin replied. He nodded at D3, doubt filling his tone. “Can you bypass those shields?”

The droid beeped, brushing into Anakin as it flew past; Rex snorted out a small laugh with how it reminded him of its programmer’s personality. D3 scomped into the port next to the door as Rex crouched, his blasters at the ready. Anakin twirled his blade, the buzzing beam filling the silence of the hall. The shields deactivated and the door burst open.

Rex fired two shots at the commando droid standing sentry at the control center for the cells, then rolled through the doorway to avoid the blaster fire. Popping up, he aimed a shot at a B1 droid whose head popped off as his bolt hit. Anakin’s blade went flying behind him, just missing his head as it took out the other three droids in the small control room.

Rex scrambled behind the console, cursing at an alert beeping from the table; they were going to have company soon. He scanned the screens in front of him, searching for the prisoner records until he found what he was looking for, Cell 421. Anakin and he sprinted down the hall, skidding to a halt in front of the right one.

“Stand guard, I’ll-,” Anakin started, but Rex brushed past him as he pressed the door release. Rex pushed into the room, tearing his helmet off as Anakin muttered, “-or not.”

Surrounded by blue beams of energy, Talia was suspended in the air similar to how she had been in the hologram that was broadcasted during the war briefing. She was unconscious, her head bent awkwardly to her chest, and her skin wan. Anger pulsed through Rex’s veins as he shot the energy cells for the beams, releasing Talia from its hold. Her body fell limp at the lack of containment, Rex caught her in his arms and slowly lowered her to the ground, her head rolling back as he helped her into a sitting position.

“Come on, Talia…” he muttered, a gloved hand gently grabbing her cheek so she could face him. Her face scrunched and she whimpered, her eyelids slowly fluttering open.

“Rex?” Talia murmured hoarsely; her eyes narrowed as if she were having a hard time focusing. She winced but a smile quickly took its place and she said, “You can’t keep your hands off me, can you?”

Rex shook his head, half in exasperation, half in relief and before he could have a better thought he leaned in and met her lips with his. Her eyes widened at first, but closed as she melted into it, her arms wrapping around his neck as their kiss deepened, only to be broken up by a cough behind them.

“Sorry to break up…whatever this is,” Anakin called out, heat rising to Rex’s face as he pulled back from Talia, “but we have company!”

“Osik. Can you stand?” Rex tilted his head down to Talia who grimaced but nodded. He put his helmet back on, handed her one of his blasters and pulled her to the entrance of the cell. At the entrance to the block, two B2 battle droids bounded through the door, aiming fire down the hall. Anakin’s saber blocked the bolts as Rex and Talia fired, each taking out one droid as more filtered into the room behind them. Pings of blasters hitting the durasteel walls echoed around them, the hallway tight and not providing much cover.

“You didn’t re-seal the blast doors?” Talia demanded; a pointed glance fired at Anakin who glared back at her.

“Got a bit distracted,” Anakin gritted back. He shot a glance at Rex, “Any chance that vent trick will work again?”

Rex shook his head, still firing at the advancing droids. “No access in here; we’ll have to get back to the hall.”

“Guess we have no choice but to move forward,” Talia gritted, lifting the blaster, firing two shots to take out two more battle droids that had crept closer in the cell block; if they weren’t fighting for their lives right now, Rex would have taken a moment to appreciate how attractive it was. “Cover me!”

Rex rounded out the door to provide covering fire as Talia deftly moved, avoiding each shot fired at her; Jedi would never cease to amaze him for their skill and recklessness. With a wave of her hand, she lifted a pair of droids with the Force and crashed them into the ceiling. With the lessening fire, Rex and Anakin could surge forward and help with taking out the remaining droids. Once the path was clear to the outer hallway, Talia leaned against a nearby wall, breathing heavily.

“Are you ok, did you get hit?” Rex asked, pressing a hand on her shoulder.

“Just a little weak is all,” Talia shook her head, grimacing slightly. She forced a smile and pushed herself up right. Frowning under his helmet, Rex grabbed Talia’s arm and wrapped it around his shoulder, gesturing for her to use him for balance. She rolled her eyes but accepted as Rex led her down the hall. D3’s round figure bobbed up and down near Talia’s head, frantic beeps sounding as it whirred around. Talia sighed, looking at both Rex and the droid, “I’m fine! Let’s just got off this hunk of junk.”

D3 beeped in agreement, floating forward to the point in the hall where Rex and Anakin had popped out of the vent access before, when a blaster shot rang out. The red bolt hit D3 right in the center, its little body dropping to the floor, smoke rising from the melted shell where the shot had hit. With a yell, Talia freed herself from Rex’s arms, lunging forward to aim the blaster in the direction the bolts came from. Rex bounded after her, with Anakin in tow, but as they rounded the corner they slid to a halt, as destroyers circled around them. Weapons still raised; the trio scanned the area around them for any sign of escape. When Rex looked to Anakin, who simply withdrew his saber; he knew there was no route out. As the droids ordered for them to lower their weapons, Rex gritted his teeth and stooped to the ground, his blaster resting near the lifeless form of D3.

***

The thick barrel of a blaster nudging her back pushed Talia forward, her worn muscles aching with every step kept her lagging behind Anakin and Rex, the latter turning his head back to glance at her as the droids led them through the hallway. A surge of warmth ran through her at the simple gesture, she could feel concern waving off Rex from the moment she woke in the cell. The three were disarmed, their hands in binders, one of the droids carrying Anakin’s lightsaber. She kept her face straight, not wanting Rex to read any of the worry coming off her; two Jedi captives being brought to see Dooku wasn’t out of the ordinary, but clone captives weren’t considered a necessity to the Separatists. She hoped this attempt hadn’t guided Rex to his death.

They were prodded into a large chamber with viewports of large transparisteel, the figure of Count Dooku looming before it watching the battle beyond. He turned at the prisoners’ entrance, his robe flowing behind him as he stepped toward them.

“Sorry to hear you wanted to leave us so soon, my child,” Dooku sneered at Talia, her eyes narrowing in response. Dooku paced along, his eyes now meeting Anakin. “Ah yes, Skywalker; why am I not surprised to see you bursting in without any semblance of a plan?”

“Who’s to say we didn’t have a plan?” Anakin answered smugly.

“Oh, you mean the squad of clones led by your Padawan?” Dooku countered, his eyebrows raising in mock surprise. The grin slipped off Anakin’s face, turning into a scowl. “General Grievous has already engaged them and has most likely dealt with them already; tell me, how does it feel knowing you lead them to their death?”

Pure red anger radiated from Anakin, his eyes narrow slits as he glared at the Count, there was the smallest glimmer of doubt and hope in his demeanor that Talia could sense. Dooku smirked, then turned his gaze to Talia.

“And you, my child, how are you coping with the fact that there’s additional blood on your hands now?” He asked, bitter resentment pooling in Talia’s stomach. “Is it not enough to lead men to their deaths, you must also have them die for your benefit?”

“Leave her alone,” Rex gritted out, his presence in between Talia and Anakin had been ignored thus far. Dooku tilted his head in consideration at Rex.

“Forgive me- I forgot the loyalty of the clones; happy to follow the Jedi mindlessly into battle. I will never understand how the Republic preaches how our methods are brutal, when at least we send droids into battle for us, not using humans as cannon fodder.”

Talia’s temper flared at Dooku’s insinuation, that brewing anger in her gut lingering from the interrogation room still; Dooku now knew how to get under her skin, by prodding the fire of her guilt. How dare he fan the flame in front of Rex. Dooku sighed and stepped back from the trio.

“Such a waste of life, a waste that must grow today,” Dooku said, waving his hands at the droids behind the trio who raised their blasters. Dooku stepped to the side, glancing at Talia one last time and said, “If only you had accepted my offer, then you might have had the chance to save your friends.”

Dull explosions from the battle outside the ship could be heard in the vast chamber, dogfights of Republic fighters and vulture droids swooping closely in front of the viewport. Talia’s brow furrowed as she snapped her head back to Dooku, cold shivering up her spine. Goosebumps prickled as she acknowledged his words, accepting her own incoming death. As Rex straightened next to her, the guilt needled in her gut; did Dooku mean what he said? If she had joined him, would that have guaranteed Rex and Anakin’s survival?

The lights cut out in the chamber, and Talia’s ponderings lost with them, the blaster bolts and explosions from the outside battle the only thing illuminating them. The three captives dove to the floor in unison, having the same thought as the droids opened fire in the spot they had been standing in. Red emergency lights flickered overhead, casting the chamber in an eerie glow; the ship must have taken significant damage in the battle. A droid cried out, and the slice of a lightsaber activating accompanied by a glow of blue signaled that Anakin had retrieved his weapon. He cut through the droids behind them, and the hot blade surged close enough to Talia’s wrists, so her binds were free.

A beam of red joined Anakin’s, the crimson brighter in the emergency lighting. Anakin snarled and charged at Dooku, their blades swirling around each other, cutting through the air and meeting with a crack. Rex stood up, the lighting casting a glow on his plastoid as he grabbed a blaster from a fallen droid and opened fire at the remaining B2s in the room. Talia leapt up, unsure of what to do; without her saber she wasn’t much use in the fight against Dooku. She searched the floor for another fallen blaster when she lurched to her side.

The ship was losing balance, the fallen droids in the room skidding to the wall as the ship rotated. Talia gripped a pillar near her, narrowly dodging the body of a B2 that crashed next to her. A grunt of frustration reached her ears as Anakin lost his balance, skidding down the flow towards the wall, only to be barricaded as debris landed on him.

The ground leveled out slowly, and Talia regained her footing. Anakin was still freeing himself from the droids that had landed on him, so she was left to deal with Dooku on her own. With no lightsaber. Maybe if she and Rex played this smartly…wait, Rex.

Talia’s heart plummeted to her gut as Rex was lifted off the ground, his blaster falling from his hands as he reached for his throat, a pointless attempt for relief from the invisible grip wrapped around it. He must have tried to fire at Dooku, hoping the Sith was distracted by the change in the ship's balance. Damn that crazy, reckless, stubborn man. Talia surged forward, attempting a Force-Push to throw Dooku off balance. He flew back a couple feet, dropping Rex with a thud in the process, but balanced out by igniting his blade and holding his position. He fired a burst of lightning at Talia, who was able to dodge behind a pillar just in time to avoid the bolts. Her pulse racing, she scanned for anything she could use to her advantage; she was skilled at hand-to-hand combat in most situations, but Dooku was too great of a master duelist for her to consider facing him with anything other than a lightsaber. She peaked her head around the pillar, her muscles frozen as she watched him approach Rex’s stirring body and raise his blade to strike.

The cold anger returned to her veins, but this time Talia couldn’t ignore it as it burst through her. She rounded around the pillar, a shadow of determination over her; she couldn’t let Rex die. The boiling cold in her overtaking her, she lifted her arm, mustering whatever strength the Force would grant her to get Dooku away from Rex. Bluish-white sparks surged from her fingertips, the cold lightning in her veins spreading from her extended limb towards Dooku. His eyes widened in surprise as he raised his blade to absorb the shock, his feet skidding backwards. The surprise faded to a grin as he challenged Talia.

“Surely you can do better!” He mocked. She gritted her teeth, putting all her strength into it, but instead of growing the power waned, her limbs growing heavy and her head cloudy. Her knees buckled beneath her, her hands catching her body as she collapsed to the ground. A rushing sound filled her ears, she was vaguely aware of Dooku saying something, but she didn’t know what; she just wanted to embrace the darkness, to sleep.

Even in her haze she could hear the crash that sounded, her body being pulled across the room and her back slamming into one of the pillars. Shouts filled the room, followed by more blaster fire, but Talia’s eyes grew heavy. The last thing she could feel were strong arms lifting her up, and a pleading voice calling her name.

***

Clone troopers crowded the halls of the Venator, running to their stations as the ship soared through hyperspace, all celebrating what they considered a victory, but Rex sat on a crate outside the medbay, his heart still pounding from the mission. The past hour was a blur; from a fighter crashing into the large viewports of the chamber and nearly being sucked into the void of space before the room's defenses kicked in, and then the other squad storming in for backup. Dooku had somehow escaped in the chaos, along with Grievous, as Ahsoka had reported. And before that, Talia shooting lightning from her hands to fight off Dooku before she fell unconscious. Rex had carried her back to the shuttle, refusing to even set her down until they landed on the Venator where she was carted to the medbay.

He had been waiting in his quarters, fiddling with his gear and other repairs when he got tired of no news, so he made his way back to the medbay. Master Plo had joined their ship from his when he got word that they had recovered Talia, and stood immediately outside the medbay doors with Anakin as they waited for news; Ahsoka was inside the room keeping watch over Talia. Captain Storm stood with the Jedi Generals, but as the leading official for the 412th in this mission he had a right to be there. Rex felt he had to stay further back to avoid raising any unwanted attention, so he sat on a crate around the corner from the door, clutching a small knapsack, where he could overhear if anything happened. But after a few more minutes of nothing, he grew impatient, and with his helmet gathered under his arms he rounded the corner towards the doors.

“Any news of the General?” he asked, keeping his tone as level as possible.

“She should be waking up shortly,” Master Plo informed in his soothing voice. Rex nodded in response, preparing to step away again when the doors slid open.

“She’s awake!” Ahsoka announced, and the men went into the room, Rex lingering and following last.

Talia was propped up in the cot, her skin pale but a small smile on her face as she took in her visitors, her eyes holding that familiar sparkle as they met Rex’s. The medical droid informed them she was not seriously injured, but recommended bed rest and no serious physical activity. Rex had to hold a stern gaze on her face as he noticed Talia rolling her eyes a little at the orders.

“Sorry Talia, no more lightning for you for a little bit,” Anakin teased, with a hint of jealousy in his tone.

“Lightning?” Plo questioned, glancing between the two Jedi Knights. “Did you produce Force Lightning?”

By the annoyed look Talia fired at Anakin, Rex gathered that this was something she had wished he didn’t bring up in front of the Master. Come to think of it, it was a power he had never witnessed another Jedi use.

“I don’t know how I did; I was trying to push Dooku away from Rex but it came out as lightning,” Talia answered, her wording clipped and quick as if she were trying to expel the words out of her mouth quickly. Plo Koon raised a calming hand at her.

“You are not in trouble, little one; I am merely curious,” the Kel Dor stated, “You know that I have used this power before, but I must know, did yours come from a place of anger?”

Talia’s eyes flitted down, and she bit her lip, before nodding in reply. Rex’s brows furrowed and he shot a glance at Storm, who seemed equally confused by the conversation. Jedi. Plo Koon patted Talia on the shoulder in a comforting gesture.

“We can have time to meditate on this on the journey to Coruscant.”

“Thank you, Master,” Talia smiled softly. She spoke up and asked, “Am I free to go then?”

Plo Koon nodded, “Once you’re ready, we can board the shuttle back to the Triumphant; the 412th is already on their way but we have more than enough room for you and Captain Storm.”

“I owe all of you my thanks, when we’re back on Coruscant I’ll have to find a way to make it up to all of you,” Talia tossed a teasing look between Anakin, Ahsoka, and lingered on Rex before adding, “Though I fear this may go to the heads of some members of the 501st.”

“Well, you have time to think of a good thank you,” Ahsoka replied with a laugh. “We’re off to settle a dispute on Taris next.”

“Oh, you don’t have leave still?” Talia asked, her voice slightly disappointed, something the others would miss but Rex could tell enough from her tone. When Ahsoka confirmed, Talia put a smile on her face and said, “Well, best of luck to you all.”

Master Plo suggested they give her some space while the med droids cleared her, and the others filtered out of the room but Rex lingered for a moment. Talia cocked a brow at him, a corner of her lips rising in that taunting smirk that had heat surging through him. She tilted her head back at the other cots filled with clones and Rex read her gesture; not exactly the best spot for a goodbye.

Forcing a cough, Rex shuffled the knapsack he was holding and reached into it, “I was able to recover this from the ship.”

Talia’s brows furrowed in curiosity, “Ahsoka already said she got my saber back from Grievous?”

“Just figured you would miss this little guy,” Rex smirked, his hand pulling out a metal ball with very scuffed black and gold paint. His finger pressed a button and D3 slowly chirped to life. Talia’s eyes went wide as she sat higher up in her bed. Rex let go of the droid, watching it float towards its owner. “It probably needs more of a charge and might need some of the bugs worked out; I didn’t have much to work with really-.”

Rex was interrupted by Talia’s hand reaching for his, her blue eyes shining and welling with tears. For a moment he thought he had overstepped, but when her face broke into a large, grateful smile, Rex relaxed. Rex clenched Talia’s hand tightly, wanting to say more that couldn’t be said in a room filled with medics, droids, and injured clones. He had a feeling Talia had her own things she wanted to say too, but for now they would have to make do with silent goodbyes in a crowded room.

Next Chapter

---

Additional Notes: I do want to clarify - I tend to go by video game examples of Force powers. Talia's use of lightning is not meant to be like "oh, is she stronger than these certain canon Jedi?" She just was able to hone into that ability in the moment, but it left her weak. More to be touched on this all later.

Taglist: @pinkiemme @djarrex @fivesarctrooper @hockeyjedi13 @justanothersadperson93 @paige6768 @saltywintersoldat @crosshairxstars @dinner-djarin @whore4rex @raven--queen @collectoroffics @all-along-the-resolute @grimhood9 @shuttlelauncher81 @ahsoka1 @twistedstitcher27

As always, likes, comments, and/or reblogs are so appreciated!

[terzos-edibles]

Silver Linings

1. Gotta Keep On, Keepin' On

Summary: No kid, no tribe, and avoiding his responsibilities, Din Djarin has gone back to bounty hunting and mercenary work under the watchful eye of Boba Fett. After a job on Ibaar goes very wrong in more ways than Din would like to count, he is forced to flee with a very peculiar New Republic doctor. He is determined to get enough credits and fuel to drop the doctor off on her home planet and be done with it. But will he be able to part ways with her after she finds all the right and wrong ways to push his buttons?

Words: 1.8k

Rated Mature: language, canonical violence, depression, mentions of suicidal behavior.

“I don't know if I'm scared of dying But I'm scared of living too fast, too slow Regret, remorse, hold on, oh no I've got to go There’s no starting over No new beginnings time races on.” - My Silver Lining, First Aid Kit

Ibaar-

The fist of the Empire reached far, sweeping across the farthest reaches of the Galaxy; the deepest corners seemed to have felt its influences. Even the smallest, poorest planets had Stormtroopers deployed to them - a formality to further oppress the planets’ occupants and show their might - and dissuade any sort of rebellion from sparking. The destruction of the second Death Star and subsequent death of Emperor Palpatine at the hands of the Rebellion had shown that plan hadn’t, well, panned out. Still, in the five years or so after the fall of the Empire, the New Republic was just now starting to finally make its way into the Outer Rim Territories after ensuring that the more strategically essential planets were well taken care of. Remnants of the Empire still clung to those planets, holding out hope that the Empire would somehow revive itself and their loyalty would be rewarded. Many felt that the New Republic had abandoned them, that things hadn’t gotten any better since the Empire had fallen. It would be the same as it had always been. The Outer Rim would continue to be forgotten, continued to be terrorized by Remnant Stormtroopers, continued to be terrorized by pirates, and continued to be terrorized by gangsters. People had given up hope once again.

But, aid was coming. Slowly, but it was coming. New Republic troops were starting to make their way back out towards planets that needed them, bringing with them much-needed supplies and rations. Marshals were installed in the major cities and villages to help keep the peace and bring a sense of law to an otherwise lawless territory. Medical teams were dispatched to provide much-needed tautology assistance to planets that were unable to get the care they needed.

Doctor Gertrude Ásketill was the first in line to sign up for those peace operations. She was coming hot off of her time as a rebel medic. She was bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and full of hope as they deployed her to the first assignment. She had an entire team - plenty of assistants and droids to ensure that everyone got the proper care they needed. They were able to start a proper clinic, train the locals, and establish a line to the core planets to ensure they could get all the medicine and vaccines they would need. Trudy felt good when she left that planet for the second.

The second planet saw fewer supplies and resources. She thought maybe it might have been a mistake. This planet had a bigger population than the last. Perhaps they didn't realize they needed to send more supplies, but then the third and fourth planets came. Supplies and resources were stripped as funding got cut, and slowly her team was redistributed to other projects.

And that left Trudy on the fifth planet - Ibaar.

It was just her and a few other doctors spread across the Outer Rim that was left of the program. She was sure that they would be recalled back to Chandrila - the capital of the Republic, but that had been almost a year ago. She had been on Ibaar for about as long. She was alone; at least, it felt that way. The only other two in her clinic with her was an older model R4-7 droid named A9-C that had been reprogrammed to help in the medical field. The humanoid-shaped, bug-eyed droid was built in the early days of the Empire and complained more than he assisted. The other was a teenager named Max, who had taken an interest in medicine. Whether it was because he liked Trudy or wanted to become a medic was to be answered. He was a good assistant and listened.

The only other Republic representative on Ibaar with Trudy was the Marshal: Baxley Morgan. How that man ever got the job of Republic Marshal was beyond her. It was probably why he ended up out here. He had a good heart, but the boy was dumb as a brick, and while she was no fighter - she could at least shoot a blaster well enough to hit whatever she was pointing at. It might not have been where she wanted it to go, but at least it’d hit its target.

The Empire had put blockades up to punish the Ibaarians for being sympathetic to the rebel cause. The aid that had been promised to the Ibaarians had finally come, and it was a little lackluster. The locals were friendly enough, but they felt a little betrayed. Trudy couldn’t blame them.

Trudy had become jaded herself; things were back to the status quo. There weren’t any more Imperial blockades, but with the lack of resources and supplies coming in - there might as well have been.

Ibaar, all-in-all, wasn’t a bad planet. It was a mountainous, temperate planet. The capital village, and the one that Trudy was in, was nestled in a valley - built into the side of the mountain while the rest of the land in the valley was used for farming. The natural cliffs that reached their stony fingertips to the sky provided a natural defense for the village, and the hundreds of waterfalls that cascaded down their sides gave the village and farms much-needed water. On a clear day, you could see for miles around. Though for all of Ibaar’s beauty, the weather was the worst. They could be lucky to see the sun one, maybe twice, per month. The rest of the month was plagued with overcast clouds, fog, daily rain, and nightly thunderstorms. It took some getting used to, and Trudy had ordered extra vitamins to help with the lack of sun.

Despite being the capital village of Ibaar, Laakso Village didn’t even have its own docking bay within the village’s boundaries, especially - making already scarce supplies harder to get. Luckily speeders made that journey a bit less complicated, though it was still rough going. A local warlord and his gang - a former Imperial commander and his troopers - had taken it upon themselves to decide that the Ibaarian Mountains were a great place to hide and run their smuggling business out of, using the old rebel tunnels from the war.

It made things dangerous.

Unsuspecting travelers going to and from the port or any of the other smaller villages in the mountains would be ambushed. Those lucky to survive had their property stolen. The bandits would look for anything from blasters, food, credits, various forms of technology they could get their hands on, and medical supplies. Trudy didn’t know how many villagers and travelers she had patched up in her time there, injured by ambushes. While the gang kept the locals terrified, they still hadn’t been bold enough to make their way into Laasko Village, choosing instead to raid the smaller outer villages - ones not protected by a marshal.

Baxley was having a hell of a time dealing with it himself and had brought up hiring some extra help. Trudy had nipped that in the bud; hiding behind hired mercenaries wasn’t going to do anyone any good - that he really needed to call in support from the Republic. The conversation tapered off after that, and the emergency seemed to have died down. However, as it always did, there was no downtime. The newest crisis cropped up - the report of the flu on a neighboring planet in the same system. A planet Ibaar happened to trade with. Which meant Trudy had to work to get vaccines to Ibaar before everyone was sick. She had ordered them about a month ago. Thank the stars someone was on her side, and the vaccines only took a month to get to her. Someone had made the shipment hastily, and they were currently waiting for someone to pick them up. Trudy couldn’t pull her boots on fast enough when the docking attendant called her to report they had been dropped off. Within fifteen minutes, she was in a speeder with a blaster and Max in the passenger seat. They would get there by nightfall - if they were lucky. Trudy just hoped to the stars above that nothing happened on their way.

----

It seemed as though Trudy’s silent prayers were answered. She pulled the speeder around to the docking bay and left it idling as Max hopped out of it, striding up to the attendant’s office and rapping his knuckles on the glass. He had grown like a sprout since Trudy had been there, now easily towering over her - though that wasn’t exactly hard to do. Brownish red shaggy hair constantly fell into his eyes, much to his mother’s dismay, and he was a lot less intimidating than he liked to think he was, especially with those freckles. Trudy waited as they exchanged words, waving a hand as the attendant poked his head out of his office and motioned to where the vaccines were - clearly annoyed he had been interrupted from his dinner and whatever wrestling match was on the holo. Trudy moved towards the vaccines, scanning them in with the datapad she pulled from her pack and happy to see that they didn’t have to quite rush back with them. Their cooling system had enough charge to allow them to rest a little bit - though they would still have to make the trip back by night. Max helped her load the crates into the back of the speeder and went out front to buy them both some roasted tip-yip and drinks from the food cart out front. Trudy turned around, eyeing the gunship docked in the bay the vaccines had been stored in. Annoyance twisted in her stomach that the valuable vaccines were stored where some random visitor to the planet could just poke through them. Though, the presence of the gunship made her raise an eyebrow. Not many ships like this made their way out here; either the owner was here for a quick refuel, or they were up to something no good. She scowled at it as Max returned with the tip-yip on a stick and a couple of cool bottles of water. “We didn’t get harassed today,” Max observed as he sat down on the roof of the speeder, and Trudy took a seat inside. “You think somethin’ is goin’ on?”

She nibbled at the meat on the stick and offered a shrug, turning to look back at the gunship. “Who knows. I just hope they keep whatever they’ve got going on out of the village. I want to sleep peacefully when we get back.”

You know the phrase famous last words? Those were Trudy’s.

--- Miles away, a Mandalorian clad in beskar armor was about to attempt to take down a stronghold of bandits and remnant stormtroopers all on his own. Maybe Fennec Shand was right. Maybe he was suicidal. ** Chapter 2: But I Ain't Dead Yet Taglist: @novemberrain221, @blackdogdesignuk, @mistyfur5, @thepoisonofgod