#cc-2224 fanfic

[mattzerella-sticks]

fated. (ao3 link)

While milling about the halls of Kamino's military complex, Kote had overheard a transmission his Prime had taken that would take him off-planet and into the heart of the Republic on Coruscant. The Republic, the very organization Kote and his brothers had been created to protect but hadn't had the chance, yet, because no one had come for them. The Kaminoans promised them that it would be soon, but every year that passed he and his brothers lost more and more faith their time would come.

Kote decided that he was tired of waiting.

He took initiative, like he'd been trained to, and snuck aboard Prime's ship so he could demand an audience with the Republic and tell them of the army they had waiting for them back on Kamino.

Of course, there are problems with executing his plan.

           It rained extraordinarily less here than it did on Kamino. Kote schooled his features to keep the wonderment off his face lest he drew any unwanted attention to himself, but he couldn’t keep his gaze from flicking upwards every couple of clicks with the expectation that he’d spy storm clouds brewing overhead signaling an end to Coruscant’s dry weather. He was proven wrong with every glance. Kote was happy being wrong if it meant he could enjoy the outdoors even longer.

           He continued wandering the crowded streets as he searched for any indication he was heading in the right direction. Kote was unfamiliar with the city’s layout and hadn’t asked for directions from any of the civilians he passed. His plans would be for naught if he was recognized by simply asking the wrong person where to go. Instead he relied on his instincts to guide him where he needed to be. They had gotten him this far, aiding him as he snuck off his home planet, maintaining cover throughout his entire voyage as a stowaway and, most recently, escaping the ship he'd been on without discovery. Kote wasn’t one who normally put his faith in such unpredictable things. Yet he hadn’t been shown his faith was misplaced. Hopefully, it never was.

           Kote came upon an intersection with the intention of turning right. However, at the last second, he decided to pause before he hit the corner. His instincts had flared warningly and told him to do so. He scanned his surroundings, searching for the reason why he stopped.

           Suddenly a pod of young cadets raced by where he would have been standing. They were playing, chasing after the lead boy who held a miniature spacecraft in his hand that he piloted terribly. Kote drew his cloak tighter around himself as a few of them rushed past closer than he liked. It was better than being trampled. The cadets hurried along, crossing the street and disappearing into the mingling crowd one after the other until the slowest of them jumped between a couple of Twi’leks and an Ithorian and vanished. As they did, so did the alarm in Kote’s head.

           He still hadn’t moved.

           Kote stared at where the cadets were and was caught in a nostalgia trap, remembering when he had been at a similar age. He and his batchmates liked to pretend they were flying in outer space, too. Except they never had any miniatures like them. Kote, his batchmates, and all his brothers within the compound ran flight simulations based around archival data from old skirmishes in preparation for their duties as soldiers. Immature handling of a craft like he’d seen from that batch’s leader would have gotten him a fierce reprimand from his trainers and the Kaminoans or, if it had been on an actual battlefield, killed. Kote doubted any of those cadets were aware of this fact as he was.

           Unlike him, those cadets were not raised to know. They shouldn’t have to, either.

           He shook himself free of the past with that last thought. Kote could not let himself be distracted now that he had already come so far. He was a man with a mission. And, like he’d been taught, he swallowed down the tempting bitterness that cloyed in the back of his throat and marched forward with renewed determination.

           Republic business waited for no man, especially if that man was a clone.

           Kote weaved an uncertain path through the streets of Coruscant. Though he walked blindly, a strong warmth had settled deep within his chest that inspired an odd sense of confidence within him. A voice, somewhat reminiscent of his Prime, whispered in his ear. Kote was nearly convinced it was his Prime save for the manner in which the voice spoke. While it had Prime’s timbre and pitch, the cadence was completely off. The voice sounded too dull to be Prime’s, who was known for his sharp and caustic tongue. When the voice said, ‘you are almost there’ the sentence didn’t cut. Its words wrapped around his spirit and sent a dizzying thrill across his body. It was then Kote realized he wasn’t hearing those words. They had come from some place deep inside him.

           Kote ground his teeth around a curse. A few days without his batch and he was already starting to go mad, hearing voices…

           He slowed regardless of how the voice urged him further onwards. ‘A few more steps’. Kote spun in a mad circle, catching his breath as he surveyed the area. It didn’t look like an area suitable for politics.

           The massive crowds had thinned to a few stragglers who didn’t hide their suspicions about him. They were dispersed amongst the buildings in sparse clusters and had a more noticeably rougher edge to them. The buildings, too, seemed less shiny than what he had seen previously. It was dark on the other side of their transparisteel, enough that he could see his reflection clearly if there wasn’t a glowing neon tumor fixed somewhere above.

           He didn’t linger on his face. Vanity wasn’t encouraged where he’d been raised.

           His eyes were on all the others’ reflections. Part of his covert operations training involved watching without being caught. This way, if he noticed an unfriendly face sneaking his way, he could strike first. The element of surprise was necessary since he hadn’t any weapons on him. His armor was supposed to withstand a lot of fire and blows, but there was no practical data to back these claims. It hadn’t been tested in actual combat. He didn’t plan on acquiring that information first-hand.

           Kote pulled the hood of his cloak lower over his head and marched at a slower pace than he had before.

           He took great pains to ignore the voice he’d been hearing as it wasn’t making any sense. Every attempt at silencing it made the voice louder. Every shove against it was met with an equal response that made him wince in the aftermath. Kote broke from his surveillance to wipe at his eyes with a tired fist as the latest battle with the voice was like trying to move a freighter-class ship using only his forehead. Because he wasn’t looking where he’d step, Kote’s foot landed on a foreign object that almost made him lose his balance.

           The voice cried out again. Kote was doubly sure it couldn’t be his Prime since he doubted Prime would ever sound so melodic.

           Luckily, loud as it had been, the voice didn’t utter another note after its short song.

           Kote sighed in relief. His pain began to ebb away since the voice wasn’t taking up all the space in his mind. He blinked back into awareness soon enough. Kote stepped off of the foreign object once he had his bearings and peered down at it. Its cylindrical shape was familiar to him. He crouched for a better look, scooping the object up into his hand to study it from all angles. It was as he recognized the shape to be of a hilt that Kote identified the object in his hands.

           It was a lightsaber.

           Like with most things, Kote never had the experience of seeing a lightsaber with his own eyes. He knew the basics of it. Battle strategies involving lightsabers were downloaded into his head, both for fighting with and against. The Kaminoans even taught him about those who could wield lightsabers.

           The files on them weren’t as robust as he would have liked, but there were a few important facts contained within.

           Firstly, that they – or rather, one of their members – had commissioned the Kaminoans to build an army that led to Kote’s creation. Secondly, wherever there is a lightsaber, its wielder should not be far behind.

           “Excuse me. I believe that what you’re holding there belongs to me.”

           Kote knew that this new voice wasn’t imaginary like the last. He had never heard it, nor an accent like it. The notion that he enjoyed how this new voice spoke, how he wouldn’t mind hearing it speak more, crossed his mind and confused Kote greatly. It was the first time he’d ever found a voice to be pleasant and didn’t know what to do with this information.

           “Sir?”

           He was drawing too much attention to himself by not responding. Kote had to act quickly. His grip on the lightsaber tightened as he rose to full height. The voice had come from behind him, so he spun on his heel with trained precision and faced the lightsaber wielder.

           None of his years on Kamino prepared him for this.

           “Hello,” the wielder said, smiling at Kote as if he were another one of his brothers. Except Kote’s brothers’ smiles never inspired such strange and precise reactions within him. “It looks like you’ve found my lightsaber.”

           “Hnn.”

           Kote was trained for war in any terrain, but he was unable to handle the battlefield that used to be his body. His face warmed to a significant degree like he’d been in the midst of an intensive exercise. Kote’s chest stuttered as if it couldn’t remember how to breathe, and his heart had lost the careful pattern of its beat and couldn’t reclaim it. There was a desire to take this new man in his hands, like he had done with the lightsaber, and observe him every which way until Kote knew him as if it were his own. Already Kote catalogued the waviness his gingery hair and beard, the softness of blue gaze, the slim build hidden beneath flimsy armor, and, as he already mentioned, the man’s amazing smile.

           Kote had been warned that those who wielded lightsabers were capable of other tricks that could confound their enemies. Was this one of them?

           No. For some reason, Kote didn’t believe it was. Though it meant his inner turmoil went unexplained.

           He would have to leave it that way, as his silence went on for far too long. The other man’s smile started to dim. Kote hated that he was the cause of it.

           “Here,” he said. His hand shot forward rigidly as he presented the lightsaber to its wielder. “Take it.”

           “…Thank you.”

           The lightsaber wielder reaches out hesitantly for his weapon, his stare unblinkingly turned onto Kote as he moved. Their fingers brushed during the exchange, and it required every ounce of willpower Kote had to not cling to the lightsaber because he’d been touched by someone who wasn’t his brother. He thought to himself that he was acting like a fool. Kote was wearing gloves. Their skin hadn’t made contact. Why would he think this simple act was that important? Why did he believe, had he not been wearing gloves, it would have been worse?

           Kote’s empty hand hung in the air between them as the lightsaber wielder clipped his weapon onto his belt. Belatedly, Kote realized how useless his hand was just floating there. He dropped it back to his side.

           “You know, I can’t begin to tell you the number of times I’ve dropped this…”

           It was an unnecessary comment to make. For some reason, the lightsaber wielder thought to continue their conversation far past its logical conclusion.

           Kote blinked at him as he struggled to respond. Improvisation wasn’t his strongest suit. “You should be more careful then,” he told the other man. “A weapon like that could easily wind up in some enemy combatant’s hands at some point, statistically speaking. And without your only means of offense and defense, you’d be dead.”

           He observed how the lightsaber wielder’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch in a manner that sent ripples across his placid expression. Kote gathered that he might have been too blunt, critiquing how he managed his weapons despite never holding a lightsaber before today. Usually that had never bothered Kote back on Kamino. In this instance, Kote wished he could strike what he had said from the record. Or for the ground to open beneath his feet and swallow him whole. Whichever was the most plausible, and fastest.

           “Right.” The lightsaber wielder was too kind as he still entertained Kote after his verbal gaffe. He arched his brow and stroked his beard. His smile had returned. “Well, maybe if I’m lucky the only hands my lightsaber will end up in other than mind own is yours.” Those words caused the wielder to react in a certain manner as well, tripping over himself in apology. “Or rather,” he amended, “hands that are like yours.”

           Kote relaxed. It seemed like the wielder was aware of his brothers, then, and what they had been made to do. Which made it easier for Kote to ask him, “If you don’t mind, I could use your help.”

           “Of course.” He was glad to move past their bout of awkwardness much like Kote was. “What do you need?”

           He allowed a tiny smile to crack his regimented expression. “I’ve been trying to find my way to the Republic’s Main Building, and I believe I might be lost.”

           The wielder’s gaze travelled from left to right as he leaned closer, conspiratorially. “You are correct. We are far from where the Senate conducts their business.”

           But why were his instincts ordering him here? That was a question for a different day. Kote stayed on task, “Do you happen to know how I can get there?”

           “I do.”

           Kote listened intently as the lightsaber wielder provided detailed directions on how he could reach the Galactic Senate from where he was. He also offered up ancillary information like its hours of operation, whose office he could petition for an audience, lodgings near the Senate for him to stay in and – once Kote mentioned how he hadn’t a single credit to his name – the location of his base that always had bunks at the ready for those in need.

           The wielder had been explaining the distance between his base and the Senate, using a holographic map of Coruscant as an aid, when they were interrupted by an incoming transmission.

           His map disappeared and was replaced with a tinier man in similar uniform as the wielder. He was noticeably sterner than his contemporary but, if Kote were to guess, he was the younger of the two.

           “Master,” the younger man said, “where are you? I believe I’ve tracked the assassin heading back towards Senator Amidala’s apartment.”

           “I was a little sidetracked reclaiming my lost lightsaber, Anakin,” he said. “I’ll reconvene with you at the apartment. May the Force be with you.”

           “And with you, Master.” The transmission had ended there.

           Kote stared at the other man in concern as he weighed what the younger wielder had said in his mind. “You’re in the midst of an operation,” he said, “yet you’re helping me out? Why?”

           The lightsaber wielder chuckled and laid a supportive hand against his shoulder. They were separated by his cloak, pauldron, and the thick, black bodysuit he wore under his armor. Kote was keenly interested in how delicately the wielder’s fingers curled and the heat it inspired beneath his skin. “I couldn’t very well have continued my duties without my lightsaber,” he told Kote, “It’s only right that I help you after you’ve helped me.”

           “Oh…”

           Kote catalogued his delight at hearing the wielder admit how helpful he was to him. It was what he had been made for. He was thrilled to have served well, even if it had been as small a task as weapon retrieval. Kote had to start somewhere. However, besides that, there was another emotion Kote couldn’t name that existed along the boundaries of his earlier delight. It was similar to it though wholly different. The closest Kote came to understanding it was the fact that its happiness wasn’t born out of an accomplished mission but rather because the lightsaber wielder had recognized his usefulness.

           He liked it a lot.

           “I’m glad to have been of service.” Then, as the lightsaber wielder began to turn away from him, he hurriedly called out after him. “I’m… Kote.”

           The lightsaber wielder glanced back at him, smiling. He waved as he continued striding off towards his next destination. “And I am Obi-Wan Kenobi!” he replied, “It was a pleasure to meet you Cody! May the Force have our paths cross again.”

           “It’s Kote, actually…” Obi-Wan had fled by then, and his name was swallowed up by the silence.

           Cody wasn’t much different from the name he had chosen for himself. “Cody…” It didn’t sound sweet like Obi-Wan said it, but Kote thought it nice all the same. He wouldn’t object to being called it, especially if it were Obi-Wan doing so.

           Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan.

           The lightsaber wielder had taken too much of his time, and his focus. Kote had his mission, and much like Obi-Wan’s, it demanded his attention. He couldn’t be distracted, now that he was so close.

           “You shouldn’t be here.”

           Kote heard Prime’s voice again. Only it hadn’t been soft and blunt like it was earlier, nor did it come from within. It had been spat out by the source and stabbed into Kote’s chest.

           He staggered and slumped over sideways as his Prime loomed over him, decked menacingly in his full besk’ar. “No,” he gasped, “I… how did you…”

           “You are one bad clone.”

           Kote’s last thought wasn’t of Obi-Wan. It was of the boot crashing into his face and knocking him unconscious.

[i-am-a-teabag-cause-i-can]

That moment when your looking for some Star Wars fanfics to read and you see the word ✨️Glory✨️ somewhere im the title, you know the chance of Cody being in the fanfic just shot up exponentially.

[woww-thankss]

So I finally *finally* finished this spread for @pyromanicdaydreamer 's stupid inn story (affectionate).

Did I spend too long on this.... probably. But it's a really cute fic and you should give it a read.

[ihathbenobiwankenobied]

Headcanon that Cody and Obi-Wan flirt a lot and don't make any effort to conceal their relationship, but don't confirm it, so the whole GAR thinks they don't know that they are in love with each other. So one night Rex pulls some strings to get all the troopers out of the mess hall on the Negotiator and the 501st and 212th set up a candle lit dinner to try and get them to see how in love they are with each other. Everyone cries when they kiss and keep congratulating them on finally getting together over the next week. Later Cody comes to Rex all fucking embarassed to tell him that he and Obi-Wan have been together for over a year and they thought everyone already knew.

[theweeping-whistlers]

The Daily Fanfic Rec #46

Fandom : Star Wars

Site : Ao3

Title : Everybody Lives - But No One Makes It Out Alive

Author : Anonymous_Radish

Summary :

Cody and Obi-Wan as Desert Husbands, but Cody dies, wakes up a teenager in a warzone with no idea of who he is, where he came from, or how he got here - all he's got to guide him are dreams and feelings -

And all his feelings are telling him is that he's destined for Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Notes :

Oh this is the best one. It's Codywan so there is that. The other thing is time travel. Cody time travels into the past but has amnesia. He appears in Melida/Daan period but it fairly quickly progresses. We have Jedi, we have Mandalorians, we have young Alderaan royalty, and best of all WE HAVE JASTER MEREEL. Go go read it no regerts

[kenobisrightboot]

a love letter to cody: some fic recs

for a character that probably has less than an hour of actual screen time, this squatter lives in my head rent-free every day. fanon has done for his character what lorge gukas should've in the first place, crafting a guy packed with so much narrative and emotional potential for the wider sw universe that i regularly tear my hair out over the topic. i'll climb on my soapbox about that later, though.

so have this: a list of some solid cody-centric fics, organized roughly < wordcount-wise. fics are either complete, update regularly, or i'm hoping a boost of attention will encourage the writers. i plan to do a separate post dedicated to cody ships. if you want to find me on ao3 and rifle through my raw bookmarks, dm me.

eat up.

"Su Cuy'gar, Vod" by Triscribe. ~7k words, part of a series, rated ga. the clones get thrown back in time, and cody finds himself on melidaan

"these dry lands" by qigiined. ~10k words, rated t+. au, cody is trying to keep his little commander alive. features non-human obi-wan and qui-gon. this author has a lot of great non-human au fics that feature tons of humorous whump and well-written disabled characters

"glory be" by never_going_home. ~15k words, rated ga. time-travel, but sideways and back - disabled characters and interesting force shenanigans. (send this author some encouragement! ^^)

"Gold Leader" by TheShinyLizard, wanderingjedihistorian (RangerJedi67). ~15k words. cody's quest to find obiwan, post order 66

"The Force of My Love" by Quarra. ~20k words, rated m. eldritch clones, need i say more. crack treated seriously

"little warrior (be careful who you trust)" by TheGodWith5Yen. ~25k words, rated t+. desert husbands healing from trauma together

"keep" by TallNegotiations (dionova). ~30k words, rated t+. angry, angry cody. whump. what makes a human?

"Spring Thaw" by handdrawnisopach, SniperAnon (The_Big_Reveal). ~40k words, rated t+. obiwan is a recovering sleeper agent, and cody and alpha-17 take care of him

[foxssleeplessness]

you see me frown while we watch the clone wars because obi-wan didn't call cody "my dear"

[batterysoup]

I made the mistake of going through the Commander Cody tag found the saddest fic ever and then cried to Battery about it last night.

[clone-wars-winter-challenge]

We just just 3 weeks away from the start of the challenge! Keep those ideas flowing!

In the mean time to go from fall into winter (I know it's the beginning of fall don't come at me lol) ....

[kartaylirnaak]

Cody Day WIP

I really wanted to have at least a chapter of this done for Cody Day @codyday2224 but life's been rough so instead have a sneak peak from the WIP of the fic that I'm writing. I'll add a link to the fic in this post when it's done.

Thank you to @catznetsov, @lyntergalactic, and @whatislifewithoutangst for coming up with this idea with me and noodling upon it.

The Care and Feeding of Your Marshal Commander

Batchmates

Cody is part of a command batch with Fox, Bly, Wolffe, and Ponds. Fox is Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard, Bly is Marshal Commander of the 327th Star Corps, Wolffe is Commander of the 104th, and Ponds is Commander of Lightning Squadron. You’ve probably come across at least one of them before. They are all equally terrifying and unhinged in their own special way. (Damn right – Wolffe) (Keep your teeth away from me – Bly)

Apart from the Corries (see the section on Fox below), whenever the 212th works with any of these units, make sure Cody gets time to spend with his respective batchmate. This should happen anyway as they’ll usually end up double bunking and sharing quarters but try to keep distractions to a minimum. Time spent grumbling over flimsiwork together is still better than being comm’d to come and deal with a prank that has gone disastrously wrong. Good luck trying to explain to your very grumpy Marshal Commander and his equally grumpy batchmate (who is also a Commander or Marshal Commander) why the bunks in Barracks 6C are on fire and why every visible surface in Barracks 8E is covered in a fine powdery glitter. You’ll be on sanitation duty for so long that you might as well live in the freshers and become one with the mouse droids.  

[thedragoninsideyourself]

I don't know if anyone is going to see this, but I'm currently working on a Cody-Centric Fic which is probably going to be put in several parts. I have so many ideas.

If anyone is interested, it's going to be divided into three parts. One on Kamino, one on the War and one on the aftermath. It will not really be a fix-it and really clone centric.

The first part focuses on Cody's relationship with Jango, his batch mates (Fox, Wolffe, Bly, Ponds - heavy on the Fox) and later Rex. But you will notice that Cody is my favourite.

The second part includes Codywan. Sorry not sorry. It's going to be on the lighter side, with I hope lots of funny moments, but it still takes place during a war and Cody will deal with a lot of heartbreaking loss.

I'm not sure about the last part yet, but order 66 happens. It's probably going to be about imperial cody and how he learns to deal with the aftermath of what he's done and how he'll get out of the empire. I plan on including the way Darth Vader deals with clones as a sith and definietly a clone rebellion.

The point of this post is that it's still in the making process. I'm creating a time-line with events right now and have several mindmaps of relationship dynamics and how I'll portray them and just wanted to put the offer out to send me all ideas you've always wanted to see in a fanfic, but know you won't make it yourself. I'm open for shit posts and heavier ones. Your own ideas or some vague feelings. It doesn't matter.

This fic is already going to be written mainly for myself and is very self-indulgent and I thought, why not include everyone who never get's to writing their own fics.

So, yeah.

[slotmachines-fearofgod]

sorry in advance, this IS angst. not proofread or edited heavily since it's just a WIP, but y'all have been patient with me so i figured it could be a little treat :3 let me know what you think in the comments!

—

The day that Marshal Commander Cody died was an entirely unremarkable one. 

It had been a busy market square in the Outer Rim. Closer to Tatooine that anyone would’ve liked. A raider’s run, soldiers and slavers clashing to defend or steal the people there. It was a common occurrence, the people there later revealed to Obi-Wan. 

Cody, in all his stubborn glory, put himself between the people of that planet and the raiders trying to take them. He got cornered, got shot, got left for dead. Rex didn’t know why he hadn’t called for help, hadn’t had the chance to ask anyone and hadn’t been able to stomach reading the report. 

Obi-Wan delivered the news to him. Rex delivered it to the batch. Only then did Obi-Wan file the official paperwork.

Fives had been hovering for the past few days. So had a few others, but especially him. Rex had thrown himself head first into work, giving himself little time to rest or come back to himself. 

Anakin and Obi-Wan approached him to offer Cody’s old position at Obi-Wan’s side. He was one of the most qualified and knew how Obi-Wan thought. He’d seen Cody’s day to day and knew what would be expected of him. 

Rex had politely refused and excused himself to go throw up in the fresher.

Rex had never really had a batch. He did, but he was weird. Different from them. Difference was deadly on Kamino. 

It had been Cody that found him, Cody that took him under his wing, Cody that taught him the importance of brotherhood and loyalty. He took an angry fucked up kid and made something worthy out of him and for that Rex would never be able to repay him. 

In the quiet of his room, the rare hours that he allowed himself sleep, he stared at the ceiling with tired eyes, unable to find rest. He stared and thought. Thought about the man Cody was. Thought about how Rex would’ve done anything for him. Thought about how he’d never see him again. 

Thought about how that was his big brother. Thought about how he used to think Cody was invincible. 

During their very brief time as children, Cody was untouchable. He was smart as all hell, good at getting in and out of trouble quicker than you could blink, and egregiously annoying about it. He used to tease Rex about coming back with a blush on his cheeks and a scowling trainer, boasting about how he wouldn’t have gotten caught. 

He’d only ever gotten caught for Rex’s sake. Once, when Rex had really fucked up, Cody took the fall. He left with the trainers, coming back hours later bruised and beaten from the extra training they forced on him. He’d met Rex with a wide smile and an arm around his shoulders, crowing about how Rex should see the other guy. Rex hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry. 

Fives had been hovering. Even now, he sat in Rex’s office while Rex worked, uncharacteristically quiet. He was scanning through mission reports, actually doing his work for once. 

It was sort of nice to have another body with him. To not have the crushing loneliness take him. 

It had occurred to him a few days after Cody’s death that Rex was alone now. Not truly, never truly alone, not while other clones existed. But still lonely. 

He’d always had his big brother with him, taking the fall for him, protecting him. He had memories of life before Cody, but they were fuzzy and far away, like remnants of a dream. The day Cody shoved himself into what he thought was an unoccupied storage closet to escape Fox’s wrath, only to bump into a small and sulky CT was the day Rex’s life changed for the better. It was easy with Cody. They knew each other. He always stood in front of Rex in the most annoying ways.

He thought he lost Cody once before. Before he’d grown used to death and the silence that accompanied it. Cody took a shot for him on Geonosis. Rex had never been so angry and he’d never felt so loved. 

I’m your brother, Cody had said, I’ll always take the shot for you. Stop acting like that’s a surprise.

Rex had gone back and cried. It was before he had Torrent and the 501st. Back when it really was just him and Cody. He hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of Cody going without him. Hadn’t been able to breathe when he thought about his brother dying, leaving Rex alone to fend for himself. 

It felt vulnerable in a way Rex hadn’t expected. Like all this time Cody had been a pillar of protection and without it Rex was left to the wolves. He couldn’t flip on his comm and shoot Cody a message asking for advice. He couldn’t wander to the 212th bunks during shore leave to catch up with him and complain about his Jedi. He’d never get to see if Cody would grow a pair and confess to Obi-Wan. He’d never get to spend the end of the war with his brother, endless days under some gentle far off sun. 

They’d made plans when they were kids about what they’d do once they left. It was the only promise Rex allowed himself to make. He knew there were no absolutes in war, but so long as he had the list and he had Cody to check it off with, he was okay.

They’d gotten less than halfway through when Cody died. 

Fives’ comm beeped and Rex watched his brow furrow. Rex thought about what he’d do if Fives died. He honestly didn’t know.

Fives looked up at him, took in his demeanor, and his face relaxed. Rex had gotten too transparent with everything going on. 

“I’m heading out,” Rex said, the hoarseness in his voice surprising even him, “I’ll be back by dinner.”

“I’ll come with,” Fives said quickly, already getting to his feet, “Where are we going?”

“Meeting,” Rex said, closing out of his work, “It’s above your security level.” It wasn’t, it wasn’t even a meeting, but Fives would insist if he told him that.

“I’ll talk to the General then,” Fives said, “I’m sure it’ll be fine this once.”

“Fives,” Rex started, before hesitating and backtracking, “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

Fives’ face hardened and he crossed his arms, “Rex -”

“I’ll see you later,” Rex sighed, his armor feeling like it weighed two hundred pounds, “Try to wrap up those reports while I’m gone.”

Fives jaw clenched but he nodded. Rex appreciated that about him. He knew when to push and when to let things lie. Many people thought he was brash, charging in with no regard to his surroundings. Rex always felt the opposite. He liked to push, yes, and he liked to get his way, but he only pushed when it was needed. When he was seeing something Rex wasn’t. 

He reminded Rex a little bit of Cody sometimes. 

Rex often wondered if it had been Cody and Fives on Umbara instead of him. He wondered if Pong Krell would’ve been able to take them apart the way he did. Those two were strong in ways he wasn’t.

Rex left his office, fixing his helmet over his head as he went. They’d landed on Coruscant two days ago, four days after Cody’s death. Rex hadn’t left the bunkhouse for anything except food and a summons to the Jedi Temple. 

He took a breath as he exited the complex, hating the weight of his kama as he moved. 

Cody never had a kama. Everyone mocked and made fun of him for it except Fox. Rex always thought there was some unspoken agreement between those two, some burden their ranks afforded them that the rest were all kept from. Rex had never been jealous of their relationship until now. 

He made it to the Coruscant Guard Complex almost unconsciously, too caught up in his own head to follow his feet until suddenly he was standing at the entrance. A trooper in red nodded at him from the front desk. Rex nodded back, taking a seat in the waiting area.

It wasn’t long before Fox came down, also in his full kit. He greeted Rex as warmly as he ever does, which is to say not very, and gestured for him to follow. 

“Almost everyone else is here,” Fox said as they walked side by side through the winding hallways, “Just missing Bly.”

“So you mean Wolffe is here,” Rex attempted to joke. Fox’s nonanswer was all he needed to know that it fell flat.

Sometimes Rex thought about Fives and his batch. Watching it shrink piece by piece, losing and losing and losing until all you have is yourself. Between Cody and Ponds, he was beginning to understand it better than he wanted to. 

“I’m sorry,” Rex said quietly, one of the overhead lights flickering as they passed.

Fox waved him off, “Gallows humor. It’s understandable.”

They walked in silence for another five minutes, the white lights painting everything in a stark light. Shadows were almost non-existent here, only lurking behind closed doors and corners the unnatural light couldn’t quite reach. It was too harsh. 

Rex entered Fox’s office, taking a look around the space. It hadn’t changed much since the last time he’d been here. There was still an old, cheap looking couch in one corner, a massive desk piled high with flimsiwork and datapads, windows that overlooked the Senate Complex, and if he had to wager a guess at least three blasters hidden in the room. 

Wolffe was currently sitting on the couch, already nursing a glass of whatever Fox managed to get his hands on this time. Pros of dealing with criminals everyday, Rex supposed. Still, Wolffe looked about as bad as Rex felt. 

He hadn’t been invited to this after Ponds’ death, instead meeting up with the batch at 79s after they had their initial wake. He wasn’t sure how this was supposed to go. 

“Rex’ika,” Wolffe greeted, standing to pour Rex a drink, “Glad you could make it.”

“Thanks,” Rex said gruffly, “for inviting me.”

Wolffe shrugged, his back to Rex, “You were his vod’ika. Pretty sure he’d come back from the dead to kill us if we didn’t invite you.”

Rex gave the best laugh he could.

Fox moved past him, pulling off his helmet. Rex followed suit, placing his on a small table next to the couch as he accepted the drink from Wolffe. Fox looked like hell, as per usual. He had a bruise forming under his right eye, his broken nose that never quite healed right standing out more than usual next to it. He had a new scar on his jaw, a small thin line that Rex probably wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t looking. 

“Prison riot,” Fox grumbled when he saw Rex looking, “Got a little out of control.” Rex nodded, accepting the answer without a fight. If Fox wanted to tell them more, he’d tell them more. 

Rex moved to the couch, sitting on the opposite end of Wolffe. The elder got a temper, especially in cases like this, and Rex didn’t want to be next to him when it inevitably showed itself. 

“How’s the 501st?” Fox asked, more of a polite formality than anything else. It struck Rex how weird this situation was. Normally Cody was there, a binding force that meshed two parts of his life seamlessly. It was never awkward or centered around small talk when he was there but now - now it was like they had nothing but small talk.

“Good,” Rex said simply, sipping his drink and doing his best not to make a face, “We’ve got a few more being sent off for ARC training soon and I’m working on proposing a few initiatives to the admirals about restrictions regarding eating habits.”

“Restrictions?” Wolffe asked, a puzzled look on his face, “What for?”

Rex shrugged, relaxing into the cushions, “Some of the heavy gunners and ARC troopers are complaining that their meal plans aren’t being switched to a higher protein intake despite their intensive training. I’m working with the Commander to get that fixed.”

He’d worked with Cody on it too.

Fox made a considering noise before saying, “The ration restrictions in general are a pain in the ass already.”

Wolffe raised an eyebrow at them, “General Koon got rid of those the second month of the war. What’s taking your people so long?”

“Palpatine.”

“Anakin.”

Fox and Rex made eye contact, a smile pulling at the corners of Fox’s lips. It seemed Palpatine’s influence had rubbed off after all. 

“The chancellor I understand,” Wolffe continued, “But General Skywalker?”

Rex shrugged again, “He’s more concerned with action, less so politics. Doesn’t like to get involved on the administrative level aside from the fight.”

Wolffe scoffed, “Sounds like a shit general.”

Rex smiled wryly, “He does alright. General Kenobi’s been helping.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes, “The 212th can’t be expected to step in everytime Skywalker throws a hissy fit over paperwork.”

“They don’t,” Rex said, a somewhat bitter smile on his face, “I do.”

Wolffe grunted but let the subject be for the time being. 

Fox turned to face Rex, “Skywalker visits Palpatine often.”

Rex nodded. 

“What’s that relationship like?” Fox asked, looking at Rex with a strange light in his eyes. 

Rex took another sip before answering, “I’m not sure. I get the feeling it’s complicated between him, Kenobi, and Palpatine. Everytime Kenobi and Palpatine interact I feel like they’re about to start brawling.”

“But Skywalker,” Fox pushed, “What’s his thoughts on it?”

“I guess he’s fine with it,” Rex said, “I mean, he wouldn’t be going to see him so often if it wasn’t.”

“And you?” Fox asked, “How does he treat you?”

Rex narrowed his eyes as he looked at Fox, “Why?”

Wolffe spoke up, “He’s a paranoid bastard, just answer him.”

Rex glared at Wolffe before turning back to Fox, “He’s fine. It’s fine. We get along well and the Commander and I are on good terms.”

Fox’s shoulders, which Rex had not realized were previously tensed, relaxed, “Good. Glad to hear it.”

Fox’s comm chimed. He looked down to read over the message before excusing himself to go retrieve Bly from the lobby. Rex watching him go, an alarm bell going off in the back of his head.

“Is he okay?” Rex asked Wolffe once the door closed. 

Wolffe stared after Fox, an unsettling look on his face. It was times like this that Rex was reminded of how close Wolffe and Fox were. If Rex noticed something was off, Wolffe certainly had as well. 

“He’s fine,” Wolffe said, something like steel in his tone, “As fine as the rest of us.”

Rex hid his wince. He supposed that was fair enough. Like he said, Cody and Fox had always understood each other on a different level.

“You?” Wolffe asked after a moment of silence. Rex looked at him, confusion written clearly across his face. Wolffe sighed, “How are you doing?”

“Oh,” Rex looked back down at his drink. He hadn’t really expected them to ask. “I’m fine.”

“Right,” Wolffe drawled, knocking back the rest of his drink. He stood and snagged the bottle from Fox’s desk, bringing it over to the couch to refill. “I won’t even pretend to believe that.”

Rex frowned as he nursed his drink, “There’s not much for me to say that you’re not already thinking.”

Wolffe scrubbed a hand over his face, “Look, kid, I’m trying to help you out here. Offer you a willow branch or whatever the saying is. You can’t be honest with the Jedi and you can’t be honest with your men so be honest with us.”

Rex bit the inside of his cheek, weighing Wolffe’s offer. He supposed that was the point of this meeting, to talk and memorialize and be honest. He rubbed his eye before saying, “He’s my big brother. My only brother, for a while there. What do you think?”

Wolffe leaned back, satisfied with his answer, “We’re your brothers too.”

“Yeah,” Rex agreed, “But you know it was different.”

“I know.”

Rex stared at the little scratches in his glass and wondered how many times Fox had pulled these out for similar situations. He wasn’t a big drinker, as far as Rex knew. He preferred to keep his head in order to better deal with senators and politicians. But these glasses told a different story. 

“I used to wonder what he saw in you,” Rex looked up at Wolffe, only to find the other’s gaze fixed on the window across from them, “What did you have that our batch couldn’t give him? Then I realized it wasn’t about giving. It never was with Cody.”

“I wondered that too,” Rex admitted softly, following Wolffe’s line of sight to the Jedi Temple, “I still think he just felt bad for me.”

Wolffe laughed sharply, “Probably. At least, initially. But he liked you enough to keep it going.”

Rex felt his mouth lift slightly into a smile, “I’m better for it.”

Wolffe hummed in agreement and they fell into a comfortable silence. It was easier now that he had other people that knew Cody. That weren’t just eyeing him like they were waiting for him to snap. He wasn’t going to snap, largely because he already had, and the constant handling had been getting on his nerves more than he realized. 

He’d gone down the night he got the news and whaled on a punching bag. He made it back to his quarters with bloody knuckles before collapsing and sobbing on the floor, crying for Cody like a child. He’d been ashamed of it the next morning, the physical evidence of a break that he shouldn’t have had blatant under the fluorescent light. He’d applied bacta from the stash in his room and slid on his gloves, hiding the winces that came everytime he flexed his fingers and raw skin rubbed up against the material. 

He looked at Wolffe from the corner of his eye, wondering what his reaction had been after they hung up the call. Bly Fox and Wolffe had answered with varying degrees of annoyance before seeing the look on Rex’s face. He was pretty sure Fox knew before he said anything, but Bly and Wolffe had both been caught off guard. 

Fox listened, offered his condolences, and hung up. None of them held it against him. Sometimes that was just the way Fox was. 

Bly and Wolffe stayed on the call, wanting to hear the how, when, and why. Bly shut down pretty quickly, compartmentalizing as fast as he could. Rex couldn’t blame him, that was his initial reaction as well. He’d told Obi-Wan thank you and assured Anakin he’d be fine before abruptly ending the call on them. 

Wolffe looked angry. He looked angry and scared and Rex knew from dealing with others that was not a good combination. He’d heard a knock on the door just before Wolffe hung up, suspecting it to be his general. Rex didn’t bother following up on that, figured either it was or it wasn’t and no matter which it was it wasn’t his business. 

“I keep thinking I see him,” Wolffe admitted to the silence of the room, “Now that the 212th has landed it’s like he’s everywhere.”

Rex winced, remembering his own reaction. The flashes of orange and yellow filling the bunkhouse, each one a reminder, a possibility, a failure. 

“It’s hard to move on like this,” Rex agreed, “When we all look like him. Talk like him.”

Wolffe snorted, “No one talks like him, not since Kenobi got his hands on him. Cody learned a bunch of big words and used it to sound like the smartest guy in the room.”

Rex dipped his head to hide his smile, “He’s always been competitive.”

“You’re telling me,” Wolffe grumbled into his drink, “You didn’t meet him before he developed a conscience.”

The door slid open, revealing Fox and Bly on the other side. Rex gave Bly a weak smile, he returned it with about the same level of enthusiasm. Rex let the greetings fade into the background, choosing instead to top off his drink as Bly settled in next to him. Rex poured another drink for Bly and handed it off, just trying to keep himself busy. 

“What did you two talk about while I was gone?” The question drew Rex back into the conversation. He looked up at Fox, who’d taken off his helmet again, before looking at Wolffe.

“What do you think?” Wolffe drawled, unbuckling his vambraces now that everyone was there.

Fox sighed and claimed a spot on the floor, leaning against his desk for support, “Just wondering. Maybe you finally met someone desperate enough to give you a shot, I don’t know.”

“Fuck you,” Wolffe sneered, “I’m a real treasure I’ll have you know.”

Fox rolled his eyes and turned his attention to his drink, apparently not feeling like putting up much of a fight. Rex was glad for it. 

The room fell uncomfortably silent, all of them looking at each other and thinking the same thing. 

It was too cold in here.

They were pessimists. All except Bly, but you wouldn’t have guessed that based on outward appearance. Every single one of them lived day to day, putting one foot in front of the other, and expecting every ounce of blood that swam around their ankles. 

Cody hadn’t disbelieved that, but he’d always been different. He wasn’t - Rex wouldn’t have described him as an optimist. But he knew how to be happy. He knew how to let himself go a little bit, balance the soldier and the person with effortless grace. The rest of them had never really mastered that without having help. Usually the help was Cody. 

He was just good with people. Good at being a person. Good at being something other than what he was engineered to be. Cody was the closest to ‘human’ most of them would ever get. 

Now, sitting in this cold office holding a glass of moonshine and staring at men that he’s suddenly not sure he’s ever really known, Rex felt like Cody was further away than ever. 

Bly cleared his throat, raising his glass, “To Kote. May he march on under the light of the Manda, guided forever by his wit and warrior’s heart.”

They drank, the swill burning more than Rex remembered from the past few sips. The silence returned, heavy and oppressive. Rex’s chest felt heavy, like a weight had been placed upon him since Obi-Wan first called him and now it threatened to suffocate him. 

“How’d you find out?” It took Rex a moment to realize Bly was addressing him. He looked up, reading an innocent curiosity on Bly’s face. “I assume Skywalker told you?”

Rex shook his head, “Kenobi.”

Bly sucked in a breath and nudged his shoulder in sympathy, “How soon after?”

Rex shrugged, his gaze going to the opposite wall, “About three hours.”

“How’d he break it to you?” Wolffe asked, stretching an arm out over the back of the couch.

Rex gripped his glass a little tighter, looking back down at it, “As best as he could. He asked me to pass the news along to you three before he filed the report.”

“Thank you,” Bly said, “I know it was a tough call.”

Rex ducked his head, not trusting the way his throat had begun to close up. The last thing he wanted to do here was cry. 

“Alright,” Fox drawled, “Enough of the downer stuff. If he’s going to die on us the least we can do is rip him to shreds at his own wake.”

Rex huffed a laugh while Wolffe sent a sharp grin Fox’s way. Bly rolled his eyes but a small smile played at his lips. It was unconventional, and not the way Cody would’ve broached the subject, but it worked. 

“Anyone got any pact stories?” Wolffe asked with a sly smile.

Pact stories were unique to this batch as far as Rex could tell. Instances or happenings from their training or later careers that were sworn to be kept between two members until one of them died. Cody and Rex had a few of their own, a few secrets and adventures that they both swore up and down they would never voice unless the other was dead and gone. It was funny, Rex had never thought he’d be the one telling them.

“He had a crush on Shaak-Ti,” Bly said proudly, cutting off Fox who’d opened his mouth to speak. “Remember when she came to see the commanders off? He gave her his comm code.”

Rex bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He had remembered Cody pulling the Jedi aside to speak with her, but it looked like a serious conversation so he hadn’t asked. 

“We only knew Shaak-Ti for a month before being shipped out!” Wolffe said incredulously, “He’s an idiot.”

Bly smiled toothily, leaning back now that his bit was done. Fox sat up with a sparkle in his eye, his expression spelling nothing but trouble. 

“Do you guys remember the weapons ring on Kamino? The one the Cuy’val Dar set up that the Kaminoans pretend didn’t exist?”

Rex did indeed remember it. A lot of the Cuy’val Dar were bounty hunters at one point or at least followed Mandalorian traditions. They complained about Kamino’s mass manufactured weapons, calling them cheap and useless. Rex wasn’t sure where it started, but one day he remembered seeing trainers walking around with shiny new blasters, bo staffs, and vibroblades. 

“Well,” Fox grinned into his cup, “Cody found where they kept the weapons. He didn’t tell me until about a week after, during the sleep deprivation training.”

Rex remembered how much Cody hated that training. He was incredibly physically and mentally strong, but the man had a thing about sleep. He hated missing out on it, going so far as to nap in active warzones when he could if he’d missed his baseline minimum hours the night before. 

“We sabotaged them,” Fox’s face morphed into one of malicious glee, one they were all intimately familiar with but hadn’t seen much recently, “Did just enough damage that nothing worked but they couldn’t prove anything without going to the Kaminoans for help. And the Kaminoans only turned a blind eye because no one talked about it. They had to buy the whole shipment over again.”

Wolffe whistled, mirth in his eyes as well. It was expensive getting things shipped out to Kamino, even more so when you’re paying for discretion. It was a good move on Fox and Cody’s part. Rex would’ve given anything to see the look in the Cuy’val Dar’s eyes when they saw what happened. 

Rex finished his drink and reached for the bottle as Wolffe took his turn to speak, “One time he kidnapped a padawan.”

Bly started coughing, his face turning red as he pounded his chest while Rex and Fox stared at Wolffe. 

“He did what?”

Wolffe grinned, smug as you please, now that he had everyone’s attention, “We were at 79s together, Fox had a meeting and everyone else was on a campaign or mission, and we ended up pretty much blacking out. Cut to the next morning, I’m laying in my bunk with the worst headache known to man and the first thing I see is my general standing over me very firmly asking where the padawan is. I had no clue what they were talking about, so I pointed them to Cody.”

Wolffe paused to take a swig while Rex took a second to muse over that mental image. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Skywalker woke him up by looming over his bed frame after a night out. Probably yell for Ahsoka. 

“Well turns out they can’t find Cody,” Wolffe continued, the rest all leaning in, “And one of my boys told them that we’d been together. So we went to the Temple and pulled up security footage from the night before and there’s Cody, cooing over this little red head human who was about a third of his size. The poor kid was crying and it looked like Cody was trying to help but it wasn’t really working. Anyway, we followed the cameras and realized the padawan had led Cody out. Poor bastard was too drunk to know what was going on.”

Rex snorted, imagining a wobbly Cody being led by a little kid with a snotty nose and big eyes. It was the kind of routine that Rex can absolutely imagine working on his brother. 

“I went back to the bunks to wait and eventually Cody comes back a few hours later looking like hell. I asked him what happened and he just went,” Wolffe pulled himself upright to a proper soldier’s posture and puffed out his chest a little more than necessary, “That’s classified. You’ll have to ask Commander Dume for the full report. So that’s what I did. Turns out the kid led him to a late night food court and he spent over one hundred credits on him.”

Bly and Fox cackled while Rex laughed and shook his head. Honestly, Rex was a little impressed by the kid. He had guts, that’s for sure. 

“Anyway, Kenobi paid him back for everything but I swear Cody hid from that kid everytime he saw him afterward.”

“Isn’t that General Billaba’s padawan?” Bly asked, still laughing a little. Wolffe nodded in confirmation and Bly’s laughter picked up again as he pulled up his comm. “I have got to tell Grey about this.”

Rex chewed on the inside of his lip, wanting to tell his story but also unsure. He wanted to keep at least a part of Cody for himself. 

But the other three were looking at him and Rex was reminded that for as much as he was grieving, so were they. Cody might’ve been special to him, but his brother had a lot of people on his side. They’d shared willingly, it would be selfish of him not to.

“He tried to distract a Seppie senator by flirting with him,” Rex said quickly, automatically uncomfortable with the way everyone’s head turned his way. “We were on a diplomatic mission and the Jedi were getting up to something or other.” It had been on Mandalore, actually. He was pretty sure Obi-Wan and Satine had been fooling around and it was Cody’s way of getting petty revenge during a very important political ceasefire. 

“Skywalker asked us to keep the guards busy so I made up a story about needing help about something or other, but we ran into a senator on the way over. So Cody, in his full kit, decides the best way to distract him from asking too many questions was to flirt with him.” Rex smiled a little bit, remembering how horribly embarrassed he’d been in that moment watching everything happen. “As you can imagine, it didn’t go well.”

Wolffe’s laugh was practically a bark as he said, “What you mean the officer of the GAR flirting with a Separatist senator didn’t go over smoothly?”

Rex shook his head, “Well, the issue was that he started flirting back.”

Fox seemed to catch on, his jaw dropping slightly and a shocked look flitting across his face, “Please tell me he didn’t actually…”

Rex bit his lip but gave a tiny nod. A chorus of yells echoed from the other three before Rex intervened, “It didn’t get far! Cody made up an excuse and left and swore me to secrecy and that was that.”

Fox and Wolffe looked at each other, surprise still written on their faces. Bly finished his drink and grabbed another while Rex grinned. 

“That’s…” Bly sighed into his cup, looking disappointed, “Actually yeah that sounds like him.”

Rex laughed, his head starting to feel a little fuzzy. It was a good buzz, the atmosphere having lightened significantly now that they were more focused on happier things. He settled into the couch, cradling his glass close to him. Maybe Cody wasn’t here, and maybe he was. Maybe he could keep him alive and with him, just for one more night. 

—

Rex did not make it back in time for dinner. He’d answered Fives’ call drunk off his ass and assured him he was getting a walk back to the GAR complex and then stayed for about five more hours, drinking and talking and laughing for the first time in days. 

Eventually, he had to go. The 501st was taking off the day after next and Rex would be needed to oversee the usual pre-takeoff duties. That and Fives had gotten Kix on his case as well and he really didn’t want them to physically drag him away. That would put a damper on the night. 

Rex sighed as he left the Guard compound, his escort for the night graciously allowing him to lean against him. He stood at the doors, feeling the rare Coruscanti wind on his face and the cool night air hit him. It helped sober him a little, get rid of some of his haze. 

“Ready to go sir?” His escort, a kid named Rune, asked.

He nodded, moving to put on his helmet before deciding against it. On the off chance he had to throw up before he could reach a fresher he really didn’t want to have to clean it out of his helmet. 

They walked in silence for a bit, passing through the large stone structures that marked the entrance to this place. Rex didn’t get how Fox could stand being here. Everything was so enclosed, so ominous, so statuesque. It was too perfect, like someone was trying too hard to cover up something ugly. 

Rex’s eyes drifted to the Geonosis memorial, as they always did. The names and numbers of every clone and Jedi that died during the battle were engraved on that stone, a mass etching that spoke of death, sacrifice, and war. 

He had a batcher that died during the fight. He’d been surprised to be so upset over it, especially considering the distance that he himself created between them. But it had been there nonetheless, a little ball of grief that sat just behind his ribs. He wondered if he could find his number on the stone. He hadn’t lived long enough to earn a name.

Rex slowed in front of the memorial, searching for…something. He wasn’t sure what. 

“Captain?”

Rex turned his head to the side at the quiet call. It sounded small and shaky.

It didn’t sound like it belonged to Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“General,” Rex said, doing his best not to slur. He remembered a second too late that he was supposed to salute the man, but Kenobi waved away the motion before Rex could complete it. He looked awful. There were bags under his eyes, his normally perfectly styled hair was greasy and unkempt, and he smelled like he’d spent a week in a brewery in the Outer Rim. 

“Rex,” Kenobi said. Rex waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t, just stared at Rex with sad, sad eyes and an expression of despair. 

“It’s me,” Rex confirmed, walking closer to the other man, “I was seeing a friend.”

Kenobi nodded, his eyes going back to the wall in front of them. It was odd. Rex didn’t think anyone but clones ever bothered to look at this.

“Are you alright sir?” Rex asked, turning to face the wall as well. 

“Please don’t call me that,” Kenobi whispered, his face scrunching up like he’d gotten a taste of something sour, “I don’t - I’m not that right now.”

Rex furrowed his brow, not sure what he was referring to. Oh well. He’d figure it out later. He was too tired and too drunk for that right now.

“But are you?” Rex pressed, the giddiness from his evening beginning to vanish.

Kenobi laughed, a wet, hopeless sound that grated on Rex’s ears, “Are you?”

Rex shrugged, “I don’t know.” It was the truth. He didn’t know how he felt. His mood had been switching too quickly for even him to keep up. 

Kenobi made another painful noise but didn’t answer. Rex shifted, looking back at Rune who was staying a respectful distance away. He didn’t want to waste too much of his time. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” the words were falling out of Rex’s mouth before he could stop them. He knew Kenobi probably blamed himself, knew Wolffe and Fox and Bly all did too. But they didn’t see what Rex saw. Kenobi would’ve done anything for Cody, including jumping in front of that blaster for him. He would’ve done it, if he were able.

Kenobi didn’t respond but his eyes shone in the ever-present light of the planet. Rex wasn’t used to such a blatant display of vulnerability from the other man. Kenobi was always snappy, witty, ducking and dodging through conversations as artfully as he did battles. 

Kenobi sucked in a ragged breath before saying, “We made plans. For after the war.”

Rex tried not to feel jealous about that. Tried not to think about the plans he and Cody had made so long ago, worlds away from this one, back when they had chubby cheeks and missing teeth, whispering under the blankets after curfew. 

“What plans?” Rex croaked. Kenobi needed an outlet, as Rex had earlier. He could do that for him. For Cody’s sake. 

Kenobi hummed, gathering his thoughts. Rex turned back to Rune and jerked his head back toward the complex. The younger hesitated, but Rex gave him a reassuring look and purposefully pointed at Kenobi. Rune nodded after a second and turned, pulling up his comm, likely to contact Fox and let him know what happened. 

“I wanted to take him to Kashyyyk,” Kenobi whispered, pulling Rex’s focus back, “He always loved the forests the most.”

Rex thought about that for a moment. Cody and Kenobi, away from the Jedi and the GAR, pulling each other headfirst into a new adventure every day, waking up to the sounds of birdsong and sun on their faces. 

It sounded like the kind of life Cody would’ve liked. 

Rex told him so and Kenobi smiled weakly, “I would’ve followed wherever he wanted to go.”

Rex’s eyes burned abruptly, the emotion he’d been trying to avoid so fiercely surfacing now. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision and realizing too late Kenobi was still speaking. 

“-you all the time,” Kenobi’s eyes scanned the stone, taking in the many many casualties they’d suffered, “He loved you more than anything.”

It felt like all the air had been punched out of Rex’s chest. He didn’t want to hear that, not from the man that Cody had spent long hours pining over and making plans for every chance he got. He didn’t want to hear that from the man that was supposed to be Cody’s everything.

“Did he ever tell you?” Rex asked weakly, knowing the answer to his question. Still, he looked at Kenobi, just in case.

“No,” Kenobi said softly, a tear slipping down his face, “But I knew. We both knew.”

And that - that felt like getting hit by a freighter. Cody had known all this time. He’d known and still he’d held himself back, refused to allow himself even one small pleasure while lives were at risk. 

Rex wished his brother was a selfish man. He wished with all his might that Cody had been a little more cowardly, a little more covetous, a little less heroic. He wished Cody would’ve taken something for himself for once.

Rex ignored the hot tears beginning to spill down his face, looking stubbornly at the memorial in front of him, “He’s an idiot then.”

Kenobi huffed, “It would’ve been futile. It wouldn’t have changed anything. He’d still be dead.”

Rex looked at the Jedi, for the first time wondering how they grieved. The one time he’d seen Anakin do it was probably the most terrifying few days of his life. Things had been bad aboard the venator. He’d been angry and twitchy, yelling and snapping like a feral dog. Rex had stepped in between him and Ahsoka at one point, telling him to back off before he did some real damage. The look in his eyes that followed haunted Rex for weeks after. It was the first time he’d ever been truly afraid of his general.

Rex looked at the man in front of him and wondered if he loved anyone enough to be reduced to nothing like that. Wondered if the effect he had on Anakin went both ways. 

“He was a good man,” Kenobi said quietly, tears flowing down his face as well, “A very good man.”

Rex clenched his jaw. He didn’t want Cody to be a good man. He wanted Cody to be here. He wanted, so stupidly and so desperately, for Cody to be here to tease him for crying over him. He wanted Cody to be here to banish the crushing loneliness that was coming back over the course of this conversation. He wanted Cody to be here because Cody knew him, and Rex wasn’t sure anyone else ever would. 

He was a captain to his men, a soldier to his superiors, a brother-in-arms to Torrent, and a little brother to none. 

“He was my brother,” was all Rex could say in response. 

“I owe you an apology,” Kenobi said after a moment, “I believe I asked you to step into his shoes far too quickly.”

Rex tried his best to keep his shrug nonchalant, less like the flinch it truly was, “It’s alright.”

Kenobi shook his head, finally turning to look at Rex, “We both know why I really asked.”

Rex grimaced. He’d had a feeling, but no confirmation. Rex was the closest thing to Cody. The next best person. They had similar attitudes and stances. They had the same sense of humor and the same sense of severity when shit hit the fan. 

He and Cody had the same sense of humanity, despite their upbringing. He would’ve been Cody’s replacement, not a commander in his own right. It was, after all, half the reason Rex refused.

“I know,” Rex said softly, drumming his fingers on his helmet. His thoughts were slow and syrupy, filtering too much and not enough. “Maybe in a few months. If the position isn’t filled.” 

Kenobi shook his head again, “I don’t want to hold you to that. You’re happy with the 501st. Cody always seemed to think so.”

Rex’s lower lip trembled. He was. He really, truly was happy with them. Fives, Jesse, Kix, the whole bunch. He was a brother and a captain in one, there to lead them down the right path and it was good. It was fun. It was more than he ever thought he’d get out of this shitty life.

It didn’t mean he didn’t miss Cody with his whole being. 

Before Anakin split off to form the 501st, when Rex was in the 212th and working under Cody, it had been so easy. Their dynamic barely changed as Cody remained in the lead and Rex remained staunch in his resolve to follow him wherever he went. They’d worked well together and at the end of the day they could still share meals, swap stories, and be brothers. They were still Rex and Cody. 

“I am,” Rex said in lieu of all that, “An - Skywalker is a good leader.”

Kenobi smiled, but something was off. Painful looking. “I’m glad.”

They sat in silence together for a few more minutes, both discreetly wiping their faces. A few guards passed them by but no one came up to interrupt them. No one dared pull a Jedi away, especially not at this time of night. 

“I should let you go,” Kenobi said. It was almost like watching an illusory trick in real life, the way he slowly collected himself until he looked more like General Kenobi, and less like Obi-Wan. 

Rex nodded slowly, still drunk despite the sobering conversation, “Fives is worried. I’ve been gone a while.”

Kenobi looked at over at Rex and then behind him into the guard compound, some semblance of understanding on his face, “I’m glad you four got to mourn.”

Rex’s face twitched. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Obi-Wan knowing that’s what he was doing and where he was coming from. It made sense that he knew, given Ponds’ death and Cody’s own occasional disappearances in there to go see Fox, but still. It felt odd. Like an intrusion.

Rex didn’t say any of that, instead giving Kenobi a short nod and doing his best not to wobble too much as he walked away. He brought up his comm as he glanced back, seeing the Jedi still watching him go as the wall behind him loomed ominously. It felt symbolic, important in a way Rex didn’t yet understand. The vision of Kenobi, defeated and beat down, in front of a wall of dead clone names…maybe if he was more sober he could’ve added something to that. Bly and Ponds would’ve known. 

“Fives?” Rex croaked into his comm, his voice worn from various conversations and tears, “You available for a pick-up?”

Rex heard Fives sigh into the comm, “Always Rex. How bad are you?”

Rex shrugged, forgetting that Fives couldn’t see. After an awkward moment of silence, Fives grumbled something about drunk brothers and Rex could hear him going for his boots, “Where exactly am I finding you?”

“Guard complex.”

“Jesus Rex.”

“Not like that,” Rex muttered, “Was just visiting.”

“Oh,” there was a small pause on the other end, “Oh. Fox.”

“And Wolffe and Bly,” Rex admitted, looking around for a place to sit. He really wanted to sit. “It was good.”

There was another small pause before Fives answered, sounding a little strange, “I’m glad. Support is important.”

“Yeah,” Rex hummed, “Maybe. Wasn’t about that.”

“No?”

Some part of Rex registered Fives was just keeping him talking. Another part of Rex didn’t actually care. 

“No,” he said quietly, “Just remembering.”

Fives made a noise like he understood. Rex turned around to see Kenobi gone from the memorial. Briefly, something in his chest pinched and pulled tight. He hadn’t taken into account that Kenobi was also one of the last threads to Cody he had left. 

“Rex? You okay?”

“Hm?” Rex’s attention was half-focused on Fives, half-scanning for Kenobi, “Yeah. Of course.” And then, because for some reason he couldn’t keep his mouth shut, “Ran into Kenobi.”

He heard the soft whoosh of the doors to the GAR barracks, knowing Fives was probably on his way, “Yeah? What’d he say?”

Rex shrugged, new tears welling up in his eyes. He tried to choke them down as he spoke, “What I expected. He loved Cody, Cody was a good man, I’ve got a job offer if I want it.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other line before a little half-scared, “What?” made it out of Fives.

Rex scrubbed his eyes. He hadn’t told anyone about it the first time around. “Cody’s position. If I wanted it.”

“Oh,” Fives sounded small all of a sudden. Unsteady. “Do you?”

Rex hummed, “I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

They sat in silence for a little bit, the various sounds of the street filtering through both sides of the comm. Rex found a seat on a bench not too far away, eyeing civilians passing by in case they tried anything stupid. 

“I want you to stay here,” Fives finally said. “I know you and Cody -”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Rex said, cutting Fives off before he could get further, “It was just an offer. We’re both drunk and…drunk. I’m not taking it.” Yet.

He heard a breath of relief from the other side and guilt twinged at him, “Good. I’m glad. We need you here, Rex.”

Rex hummed, looking up and for once wishing he was surrounded by stars. It was easy to get sick of it in deep space. It gave him a headache sometimes, staring out into an empty void that he knew would kill them all in an instant. But here on Coruscant you couldn’t see the sky, not after generations of light pollution. It made him wish to be away, to be anywhere but here.

“I don’t have a big brother anymore,” Rex said into the comm. It was more of a passing comment, something he’d been chewing on since Cody’s death. 

“I know,” Fives sounded horribly sad in his response. Rex blinked at the comm, almost wanting to see Fives’ face. He was the oldest of his batch. He’d seen his little brothers die one by one. Rex wondered what it felt like to be on that side of things.

“I’m not anyone’s vod’ika,” Rex murmured. 

“I know,” Fives repeated, quieter this time but still weighty. 

Rex wasn’t sure what else to say. His big brother was gone. Nothing could change that.

“I’ll be there soon ori’vod,” Fives said kindly with only a mild note of concern in his voice, “Then we can go home.”

Rex nodded numbly. Home would be good. He was drunk and tired and a bed sounded really nice right about now. 

“Rex?” Fives called his attention away from thoughts of sleep, “You know…you know we’re here for you right? We get it. We’ve all had someone die on us. You don’t have to do the command staff thing of hiding it away for our sake.”

Rex pinched the bridge of his nose, “I know Fives.” The words were automatic, completely hollowed out and said just for the purpose of being said. Both men knew it.

“Alright,” Fives relented anyway, “Just - don’t go anywhere without us.”

Rex nodded blearily, once again forgetting Fives couldn’t see him, “Aye aye Captain.”

Fives huffed in a poor imitation of a laugh, “Alright asshole. I’ll be there in five.”

The comm clicked off in Rex’s hand. Rex looked at it, considering carefully.

He entered Cody’s comm channel, surprised to see it come up unanswered. He’d have thought they would reassign it by now. 

Leave a message here

The glowing blue words blinked up at him. Rex stared, unsure what to say. He began typing a few times only to erase his message, thoughts of officers or god forbid Kaminoans finding the message playing like a warning in his head. 

The message clicked off when Rex took too long. He scrambled to reenter the code, though this time a voice played. 

This is Marshal Commander Cody speaking. Leave me a message or send me a comm and I will respond as my schedule allows.

Rex wanted to laugh. Of course Cody would program a voice message into his comm. Of course it would have a very pointed fuck you to everyone who thought they could walk all over him. 

He wanted to laugh but the noise that made it out of his chest was anything but happy. He gripped his pulse point over his wrist, shoving the comm back into his belt, and tried to gulp down breaths of air. 

He missed him. Gods above he missed him. He didn’t think he’d ever stop missing him. He knew the ache dulled, knew it from experience and from watching others around him, but here and now he was alone. Alone and sobbing on a bench in Coruscant, the looming specter of death behind him. A memorial, a reminder of everything Rex had lost, here to tower over him even now. 

“Rex?”

Fives. 

“Rex,” Fives sighed, putting a little more step into his walk as he made it to Rex, “Let's get you home, yeah? I think it’s time you called it a night.”

Rex nodded again, letting Fives sling his arm over his shoulder and moving forward obediently. 

“You know I love you right?” Rex asked, not looking at Fives.

“‘Course I do,” Fives responded, keeping his eyes forward as well, “Why?”

“Just need to tell you,” Rex sighed, his eyes sliding half shut, “Just in case.”

Fives’ grip on him tightened. Rex tried not to think about how soon this might be taken from him too.

[dangraccoon]

Can I pleeeeease request a thing about how you think Cody got his scar?

Glory

Request for @techs-goggles9902 Love you, Sha! 💛

Cadet Commanders

Warnings: child abuse (children getting beaten up by a corrupt instructor (they're around 15-16 biologically in this)), blood, knives. This is kind of a dead dove do not eat situation.

Mando'a Guide: shebs - butt par ner vode - for my brothers verd'ika - private, or "little soldier" affectionately vor entye - thank you (literally "I accept a debt") alor - leader

“C’mon, Foxy! Kick his shebs!” Bly shouted from the bench.

“Bly,” Cody hissed. “You need to shut up.”

Fox, slightly distracted by his brother’s loud disruption, caught a swift kick to his shins, practice blade flying to the side as he fell.

Their instructor held his own practice blade to Fox’s neck.

“Do you yield?” he asked calmly. 

Fox simply nodded, struggling to catch his breath. 

“I can’t hear you,” he growled, the tip of the blunt blade pressing against the skin of Fox’s throat. 

“Yes, sir,” Fox rasped. “I yield.”

The instructor pulled the blade away, looking out to the others. 

“Who’s left?” he called, impatiently, his eyes zoning in on Bly and Cody. “Come on, someone’s gotta disappoint me next. I don’t have all day.”

Bly almost growled a little, his brows scrunching together. He stood, walking towards the training mat at the center of the room.

“Well, well, well,” their instructor chuckled darkly. “And which one are you?”

“Bly,” he answered, picking up his practice blade. He fell easily into a ready position. 

The instructor rolled his eyes. “That is not what I asked, clone,” he spat. 

Bly’s nostrils flared as he looked up at the bounty hunter. “CC-5052, sir.” 

“Ah, so it will be disappointing,” he sneered. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

Bly took a deep breath to center himself, just like Cody had shown him. The practice began, the instructor quickly advancing on the attack, forcing Bly to take the defensive. 

He lasted longer than he had the last time, and a tiny bit longer than Fox had, but soon the bounty hunter had him pressed to the wall with his hand around Bly’s throat, blade on the mat. 

“Pathetic,” he sneered, barely looking as he released the young clone. Bly’s knees hit the ground hard as he coughed and gasped for air, making Cody wince. 

“You,” the instructor commanded, pointing his blade at Cody.

“You got this, Codes,” Wolffe whispered as Cody passed him. 

He got to the mat and faced their teacher. He could feel his blood boiling just below the surface of his skin as Fox and Gree helped Bly up and back to the benches on the side of the training room. 

“Begin,” the instructor said, already lunging for his student before the word had fully left his mouth. Either he didn’t notice that his student didn’t have his practice blade out, or perhaps he simply didn’t care. 

Cody ducked the attack, throwing his shoulder into the instructor’s gut and knocking him off balance. They tumbled to the floor, the young clone on top of his teacher as they struggled. 

Distantly, he could hear his brothers’ cheers from the sideline, but he couldn’t let that distract him. No, he had to put everything into this match. He had to show this sleemo that he and his brothers were to be respected.

He could feel the instructor’s knee slam against his back, and he grunted as a sharp pain accompanied the impact. But he ignored it. He fought to get the instructor’s arm under his knee, pinning it to the mat and began to do the same with the other, but the instructor struggled against him. The instructor’s hand landed on Cody’s face, pressing hard against it. Cody growled in frustration, pushing himself even harder. He had to win this match. Par ner vode.

The instructor bucked his shoulders, trying to throw the cadet off, but he stuck through it, grabbing at his wrist and - finally! 

Cody caught the instructor’s arm by the wrist, slamming it hard onto the mat, the practice blade clattering to the floor. Once he’d wrestled the instructor’s arm beneath him, he picked up the practice blade, pointing the tip to the instructor’s neck. 

“Do you yield, sir?” he asked simply, fighting to disguise the fatigue in his voice. 

“Fine,” the instructor snarled. “Now get the kriff off of me.”

He hesitated, but let the man up. 

“All of you get out of my sight,” he growled, brushing the dust from his shirt.

His brothers were all but cheering by the time they left the training room, but Cody felt uneasy. That feeling carried him through the rest of the day, following him wherever he went.

“CC-2224, report to hangar 14D,” the PA system sounded. The rest of his squad gave him a questioning look, but he just shrugged.

“Do you want one of us to come with you?” Fox asked, clearly picking up on his brother’s discomfort.

“Better go alone,” he frowned. “Thanks, though, Fox.”

The eyes of his squad followed him until the door shut behind him.

It wasn’t long of a walk to the hangar, but he couldn’t help the way his nerves bundled in the pit of his stomach. The tension rose into his shoulders and jaw as he walked into the hangar.

There stood his hand-to-hand instructor, but that didn’t surprise him. He figured he’d have to pay for his victory in training earlier.

“CC-2224,” the instructor drawled, not bothering to turn and face him. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yes, sir,” he answered carefully. He didn’t want to earn any more ‘reinforcement’.

“Since you seem to have your hand-to-hand training down, I thought perhaps you might like a bit more of a challenge.”

Cody didn’t like the man’s tone. It sounded too cordial for this particular instructor.

“What did you have in mind, sir?”

The instructor chuckled darkly. “A more… realistic fight,” he murmured, turning and pouncing at Cody.

He caught his wrists, but not before it nicked his uniform. They struggled for a moment, but the instructor used Cody’s hold on his wrists to pull the young clone towards him, slamming a knee into the boy’s gut.

Cody coughed hard, doubling over. The instructor took the advantage, pushing him back, nearly knocking him off balance.

“Today is the day you’ll learn,” the instructor spat, landing a swift uppercut to the same spot. “You’ll learn what it is to respect your betters.” Another hit. “To know your place.” Another. “Your worth.” He gripped the cadet’s arm, twisting it painfully. “That you are utterly disposable.”

With a punch to his cheek, Cody was down. He crumpled to the floor, breathing no longer coming easily to him. His vision felt blurry. His heart was pounding in his ears. There was something warm and wet dripping down his temple- was that blood? There was a metallic taste in his mouth.

“Pathetic,” his instructor huffed out. Laying on the cold durasteel of the hangar, curled in on himself, bleeding, panting, and nearly crying in pain, doubt crept into his mind. Maybe he was pathetic. A let-down. A disappointment to his squad. Maybe he was just a number- 2224.

“You know as well as I do just how much the Kaminoans hate imperfection,” the instructor sneered. The sharp hiss of a vibroblade being unsheathed echoed in his ears. “We’ll see how long you last with this.”

The instructor forced him onto his back, arm pressed across his shoulders. Cody’s vision was blurry, but he could just make out the shape of the knife inching towards him. White hot pain seared through his body, originating at his temple. He was sure he cried out, but he couldn’t hear anything over the rush of his own blood. He was moving, struggling against the sadistic man, trying desperately to break free.

The arm holding him down shifted, moving up his body, until it situated across his throat. He was gasping, his hands clawing at his restraint, but it got harder and harder to fight, and he felt a cold, inky, blackness enveloping him.

“That’s enough!”

Cody opened his eyes. The harsh white lights of the medbay burned as he blinked the blurriness away. His head felt like it was being split into a million pieces.

“Good, you’re awake,” said a woman, who just came into focus. He recognized his heavy weapons instructor, and realized she must have been the one to find him.

“I-I’m sorry,” he breathed, voice hoarse.

“None of that,” she answered. Stern, but kind, as always. “This was not your fault, verd’ika.”

Dinua Atina was a tough Mandalorian warrior, but she seemed to have a bit of a soft spot for the cadets, and the cadets held her in a similar regard.

He sighed. “Is my squad okay?”

“Always worried about ner vode,” she smiled, shaking her head gently.

“W-when-” he stuttered, having trouble pushing the words out of his mouth. “When will I be… decommissioned?”

Alor Atina’s eyes grew wide. “No, verd’ika,” she asserted. “You will not be decommissioned.”

His hand rose to gingerly touch the ruined skin on the left side of face. “But-”

“I have already stopped them from decommissioning you, verd’ika, and the man who did this to you has been removed from Kamino.”

As his eyes shot up to meet her’s, his mind swam as he searched for words that would be enough. “V-vor entye, alor,” he whispered, his Mando’a coming out a little broken.

She smiled widely, her hand grasping his. “No debt is owed, verd’ika. Guide and protect your brothers in the field, and you will bring kote to the Republic.”

She patted his shoulder and began to leave, picking up her helmet from the foot of his cot.

“Alor Atina,” he spoke, stopping her. “What does ‘kote’ mean?”She smiled. “‘Glory’, verd’ika. You will bring glory.”

Thanks for reading! - River

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[theweeping-whistlers]

The Daily Fanfic Rec #55

Fandom : Star Wars

Site : Ao3

Title : Resignation in more than one sense

Author : BitterChocolateStars

Summary :

Inspired by this tumblr post: https://twinterrors29.tumblr.com/post/649758558784749568/after-the-war-ends-obi-wan-desperately-wants-to

After the war ends, Obi-Wan desperately wants to quit the Council, but Mace keeps rejecting his resignations.

So Obi-Wan decides to take matters into his own hands: if he can’t resign formally, he’s going to get himself kicked off

(Moved from Chapter 15 of Bitter Chocolate SW AU Ideas/Minifics Part 1. I decided this could stand on it's own.)

Notes :

It's funny. Believe me it's funny. The council would really like to absorb Obi Wan and he is doing his darndest to just n.o.t.

[that-gay-jedi]

I'm reading this big ol long multichapter gen fic and the interactions between Obi-Wan and Cody are like. I keep checking and rechecking the tags like "Are you SURE this isn't a Codywan fic???" and then I remember. That's just how Obi-Wan is.