#clone trooper pillar

[noperopesaredope]

I already wrote a similar posts on how fics of this nature annoy me, but I would like to push it further by saying that while I am fine reading it, I feel kind of weird about fics where the clones like Cody are constantly taking care of and basically babysitting their Jedi General or acting as a major emotional pillar for them.

I think the reason it makes me so uncomfortable is that not only are the clones already going through their own extremely horrific shit, but the Jedi are their superior officers and have a lot more systemic power over them. I will never stop saying that the clones are slaves, and while I don't see the Jedi as being their enslavers, I do think that they are essentially in a "master" position of power whether they like it or not. So it feels weird when the Jedi are more dependent on the clones and the clones need to basically take care of them and are always needing to look after them.

I'm a half-black American who is very passionate about African American history and anti-black systemic issues. And I can't help but be reminded of the tropes involving black characters whose are constantly forced into what is basically a caretaker role for white characters. Think of the Mammy, or the Black Best Friend, or the Magical Negro. The clones are already oppressed, already marginalized, and already forced to constantly back up and support the Jedi in charge of them. And then they are forced to be their Jedi's babysitter on top of all that.

Helping their Jedi out and generally caring about their wellbeing on places like the battlefield? Yes, that can be very sweet and often involves a lot of emotional care and trust.

Needing to force their Jedi to take care of themselves even off the battlefield and having a whole system/thing about how the Jedi "never take care of themselves and simply need the clones in order to do basic self care and not overwork themselves all the time while being oh so self-sacrificial"? Slightly weird and honestly seems to be the other way around based on both canon scenes and their respective circumstances.

I feel like perhaps part of this is just a general desire for angst and classic whump tropes, and sometimes it seems to be used as a way to showcase, "see! The Jedi do care about their troopers!" It seems like an example of the Jedi taking on the caretaker position and being the ones to protect the clones. But it almost always ends up resulting in the clones being forced into a support/caretaker role even when it seems like the Jedi is playing the role of caretaker.

Now, I don't think fics that follow this overall concept are super problematic or whatever. I also think some dynamics like this can work, such as with the Padawans and the clones (though that is for very specific reasons). I really don't want to spread too much negativity or say that anyone who writes this stuff is automatically racist or whatever. It's more of a personal discomfort/distaste than anything and people can write whatever they want, especially since I know the intent behind these tropes are often sweet in nature.

But I do think it's good for us to reflect on the parallels the clones have to real life issues and the way certain harmful tropes and mindsets can be perpetuated through metaphorical allegories (whether intentional or unintentional), and discuss the way we as a fandom treat the power dynamics between the clones and Jedi, especially in regards to things like shipping.

I don't know if I'm making any sense, but please tell me what you think, especially since I think it would be a good thing to talk about.

[qualified-trash-panda]

The Sole Survivor

Day 2 of 212th Appreciation Week

today's prompt is 'Adoption/Accidental Acquisition'

this one was an absolute no brainer for me, it had to involve Cody he is such a father figure to my OC (in my head he adopted her the day he saw her ratty ass he just didn't know it) and no one can convince me he isn't buir material.

description: sent to search out any survivors following the fall of Syrac Base, Commander Cody finds a tragedy in its wake.

length: 3k

warnings: mentions of gunshots, wounds, blood etc

“This is it.” Cody determined, switching off the scan and tucking the holodevice in a pouch at his belt, returning both hands to his blaster carbine.  “The fire never spread as far as command but scans are showing heat signatures.”

“Well then…” General Kenobi gestured for them to back up in the little room the tunnel allowed, the shuffle of boots kicking up tiny whisps of dust.

Cody ensured a line of troopers kept to the General’s back, blasters ready, as the Jedi extended his hands towards the blockage.  The arch of the tunnel had collapsed around the blast doors, blocking the control panel, and whilst the gunships worked to put out the worst parts of the fire and dislodge larger chunks of crumbled rock so they could salvage what little remained, they couldn’t fit the heavier machinery down the spiralling tunnels of the central base. 

The rocks shifted, a crumble of dust spilling from above, as General Kenobi concentrated.  Initial scans showed no life signs from above.  The base lay in complete ruin, fire ravaging what little remained, distorting any thermal scans they conducted, but the trooper they rescued insisted there’d be someone left alive.  Something in his voice convinced the General even when Cody began to doubt and he’d spent hours clearing through tunnel after tunnel, his exhaustion showing in tired lines on his bearded face, dark shadows popping out beneath his eyes and Cody knew if he pushed any harder he’d expend what little energy he had left.  If he didn’t stop soon, Cody would start to insist.  No one could survive this.

Chunks of rock scraped across the rugged, scorched ground as the General cleared the blast doors, the metal screeching and puffing a cloud of dust that distorted his vision, his visor applicator working double time to clear the scene ahead but it lay so thick in the air it did little good. 

Blasters clicked as his troopers advanced cautiously, approaching the darkness inside as if it were a rabid animal, a scattering of blinking lights twitching like beady eyes watching and Cody heard another pillar of dust pour from somewhere inside to scatter across the rocky ground but otherwise not a single sound could be heard.

Except… Cody frowned beneath his helmet, trying to listen harder, and picked out the shaky hitch of heavy breathing.  The pulse of a weak heartbeat picked up on his HUD. With a wave of his hand, Kenobi cleared the lingering dust and one by one flashlights switched on, illuminating the shadows within.

A single form stood out in the cascading light, torches focusing on the figure, hands tightening around blasters as they flashed across a pointed weapon.  “Wait.” General Kenobi whispered, grasping the nose of Cody’s blaster as he stepped past and the troopers stilled, his auburn head, covered in dust, nodded to the figure.  “Look closer.”

Cody did.  His gaze trailed up, picking out the discoloured boots, the frayed armour, the blaster pistol locked in their tight grip and the savage curl of their lip. 

No.  He sucked in a breath as he saw it and Kenobi released his weapon, the blaster falling to his side.  Not discoloured, just dusty.  The armour up their legs, Cody wore the exact same kind, but they were scratched, stained, barely recognizable in the din, the breastplate, the arm plating both gone.

“Lower your weapons.” Cody murmured and the troopers obliged, stepping back as Cody stepped forward. 

The strange clone tensed as he did, the single DC-17 in their hand shaking, trained on him, chest rising and falling in rapid shakes. 

“Easy, soldier.” Cody calmed, bending to settle his own blaster on the ground and lifted the helmet from his head, the dust immediately catching in his nose, the thick air pressing in on him but he left it beside the blaster, straightening.

He stayed put, subtly gesturing with one hand and his troopers tentatively backed up until they were back in the tunnel, even the General retreated, lingering only in the doorway, watching intently for sudden movements that might threaten his Commander.

“What’s your designation?” Cody asked, his voice low and steady, tilting his body minutely to get a better look at their features behind the blaster. 

Cody refrained from sucking in another breath.  Not a regular clone.  He gave her another look, keeping his features open, easy, as he scrutinized her.  No upper armour, her blacks shredded around the shoulders, her sides, revealing scrapes and bruises decorating tanned skin and a long line of red trickled down the side of her head from a deep gash that needed treating soon, her curled lip swollen, broken and she had a nasty black eye on top of it all, a tumble of knotted black hair half covering a scattering of scrapes on her cheek.

Another clone lay beneath her, her feet planted solidly over him, and Cody thought he might need help, his lips parting to offer it until his gaze found the clones unseeing eyes, the hole in his chest, and quickly shut them.  What the kriff had she gone through not to recognize her own men? For someone to survive carnage like this…

“My name is Cody, Commander of the 212th.” He gestured behind towards the Jedi and she tensed again, a rakish sob escaping the snarl.  “This is General Obi-Wan Kenobi, we’re here to extract you and the survivors.”

“There are no survivors.” It’s the first words she’d spoken and they came out torn and rattled. Clenching around Cody's heart.

Cody risked a glance over his shoulder at the General, finding the same flash of darkness cross his gaze that threatened to tug down Cody’s brows and the survivor’s arms trembled.

“What happened here, trooper?” General Kenobi asked calmly.

No. Cody knew she wouldn’t answer questions like that in this state, her jaw clenching, and the tremble in her arms grew, spreading to her shoulders.  How long had she been standing here?

“Easy, trooper.” Cody reached out towards her with a gentle hand, easing forwards.  “The fight is over.” He assured her, “You did your duty.”

A single crease smoothed her features, the white of her knuckles grasping the blaster relaxing and Cody took another step closer, keeping his voice as soft as he could.  “Look at me, trooper, I’m a clone just like you.” He placed a hand on his breastplate, drawing her frightened hazel gaze to him and not the troopers, not the General.  Just him.  “I’m not going to hurt you, vod’ika.”

Her features released the snarl and she stared at him with such fear it resonated deep in his stomach, stirring a crest of pain in his own heart, and he carefully settled his fingers atop hers on the blaster. 

“I’ve got you now.” He promised, inching closer, nudging the blaster down slowly.  “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

Her grip on the blaster loosened, Cody’s tightening, and he eased it from her fingers, placing tentative fingers on her tightly wound shoulders to distract her.  A pained, shaky breath slipped from her lips at the touch, draining whatever fight she had left in her and Cody saw the strength vanish from her gaze, the hazel brimming with pure, unadulterated fear now. 

Cody took the blaster and gestured with it to another trooper, feet shuffling in the dust to come and grab it whilst the Commander still clung to the trembling trooper. 

“That’s it.” Cody calmed and drew her from the body she stood over, keeping her concentration focused on him as the rest of his troopers slowly ventured into the command centre to retrieve what information they could. 

He trusted a brother to retrieve his helmet, his blaster, and instead focused on getting the trooper out of there and into a medic’s capable hands.  The General stuck close behind as they traversed the narrow tunnel, soon returning to the collapsed section and inching through one at a time, Cody in front to coax the survivor through and Kenobi behind with a gently raised hand.  She looked about ready to collapse, hair knotted at every angle, the blood spilling down the side of her face and sunken sockets distorting the nasty bruise around her eye, a paleness to her supposedly tanned skin.

“Cody.” Kenobi whispered almost imperceptibly as they came out the other side, his usually piercing gaze shadowed and nodding to the survivors back.

He stole a glance as his hands found her shoulders, easing her onwards again, and eyes widened when he spotted what the General saw. 

A dozen nasty, untended and angry red gashes littered her back, tearing up her blacks, some of them older, some oozing a trickle of blood down the tanned skin, and parts of her shirt looked darker than others in the bright floodlights.

“You actually found one?” The first medic he found gawked, mouth snapping shut when Cody hissed out a low shush, snapping the troopers name, the three of them appearing in the meagre staging area they scraped out in the rubble.

He settled the survivor atop a jagged chunk of rock as gently as he could, Chance’s steady hands helping, and he unhooked the pack from his shoulders, setting it beside him and flipped it open.  Then he saw her back

“She’s in bad shape.” Cody knelt beside her, the brash floodlights better illuminating the hundreds of scrapes covering her body and Cody nodded the medic to the gashes lining her back.

“I don’t dare touch those without a sterile environment.” Chance assessed, unable to keep the anger clouding his gaze.  “We need to get her aboard the Negotiator.”

“Do it.” Cody instructed, more forcefully than he intended, and straightened to help lift her to her feet.

“Commander.” A blunt voice stopped him, the survivor clutched between him and Chance, waiting as Cody twisted to find Boil standing rigidly.  “There’s something you should see.”

A single glance at her frightened gaze, the way her eyes followed him, told him to stay and Chance lingered, waiting for his decision.  “Gearshift!” Cody called out and a stiff trooper rushed to him, thankfully returning his helmet.  The trooper took over for him and they set her back on the rock.  “I won’t be long.”

“Yes, sir.” Gearshift responded, standing close by her side without needing to be asked.

Cody followed Boil through the little space they’d cleared in the base, forced to climb over a jagged chunk of rock embedded in the stairwell just to reach what should be the sprawling central courtyard.  Bits of machinery, shards of crushed speeder bikes and heavy artillery littered the ground, Cody spotted a blaster here and there and a worrying smell lingered in the thick air.  Cody settled his helmet back on, his filters blocking it out.  He’d been on Jabiim during the massacre, he knew what that smell meant, and his stomach dropped. 

The gunships hadn’t cleared much of the courtyard, but enough to know.  As they’d been working towards the command, towards the last heat signature worth exploring, his troopers had been down here pulling body after body from the wreck.  A line of them lay flat on the outskirts, dried blood staining misshapen cracks in their armour from being buried beneath the rubble, but they all carried one distinctive mark and Cody closed his eyes. 

A single blaster shot to the head.  Execution style. 

“Maker, what happened here?” Cody whispered under his breath, unconsciously counting the bodies they pulled out from the little space cleared and doing the math in his head, swallowing once he came to an answer and his jaw clenched.

“We found a Trandoshan amongst the rubble.” Boil reported and Cody followed his pointed finger to the limp reptile in a shadowed corner.

A Trandoshan? Cody frowned beneath the helmet, the addition only adding to the confusion in his mind.  “Tell the boys to find out what they can from the command centre.” Cody instructed, having left a squad of troopers up there.  “And Boil,” Cody grasped the trooper’s arm as he twisted.  “Make sure the data is transferred to my channels alone.”

Cody knew he’d find nothing good there, releasing Boil, and didn’t need the answers splayed across the holonet for all the GAR to see.  What they found already was bad enough. 

“I shall have to inform the Council we’ve lost Syrac.” General Kenobi said gravely, and Cody twisted, he hadn’t notice the General follow him down. Missing his brown robe.

“I thought the Separatists were routed from the system?” They couldn’t find a single trace of the droid army other than the occasional metal carcass.

“Whilst that is true, I would hardly call this a victory.” Kenobi’s gaze darkened, his usually piercing eyes hooded and fixed on the fallen.  “Tell the men to stop their search.”

Cody’s gut clenched, glancing back at the troopers, a pair of them pulling another body from the wreckage, the implication clear.  They’d find nothing more here.  He knew better than to argue with a Jedi’s instincts but he still wanted to, a needle of hope worming into his heart after finding her. 

“We have orders to reinforce General Skywalker on Christophsis.” General Kenobi added, sensing his Commanders hesitation.  “We cannot delay any longer.”

“Understood, sir.” Cody shifted his feet, standing rigidly to attention, and began relaying orders to the men through his comms. 

They returned to the staging area as the ships clearing the rubble safely discarded their pieces, pulling back, the equipment packed up, bathing the mystery in darkness once again, and a record made of the fallen brothers they did find, including the one in command.  Cody counted a secret tally in his mind for every trooper left unfound, buried beneath the rubble, consumed by the fire or worse.  An entire battalion’s worth wiped out and he stepped aboard a gunship with the sole survivor. 

One of the deadliest battlegrounds of the war so far came to an end after weeks of struggle and he didn’t even know how.  Just a lone survivor left to tell the story, if she even could. 

“Sir?” A light voice perked beside him as the blast doors locked shut, the gunship entering the upper atmosphere and rocked from the turbulence. 

“What is it, Waxer?”

“A female clone?”

His head tilted, regarding the clone through his helmet, studying the long stripe of orange painted down the centre, imagining the confusion crossing his square features underneath.

“I know.” Another question to add to his growing pile.

Cody glanced back at the trooper, her hazel eyes hollowing, Kenobi's dusty brown robe settled around her shoulders, and sympathy spiked in his chest.  He knew that look all too well, the thoughts that must be racing behind her eyes.

The gunship landed smoothly in the hangar and Cody guided the survivor down, her feet moving but his hand hovered around her, eyes watching just as carefully as Chance’s and the medic kept muttering to himself that she should be on a stretcher.

A shout echoed over to them across the hangar and another shiny came stumbling over on a crutch, his armour coated in the same dust as the survivors, and Cody recognized him.  The trooper they picked up on the ridge, the one who sent the transmission.  Ricochet?

“You’re alive.” He shook out his relief, dropping his crutch, the medic trailing after him muttering some apology about how he refused help until he knew his squad was safe.  “I saw the base go up, I saw it all, and I didn’t believe…” He grasped her shoulders, shaking her, and Cody wanted to gently push him away, worried she’d crumble under his grip.  “Where is everyone?”

Ricochet peered deep into her face, even as her head dipped down to the floor, chin almost to her chest to avoid looking at him and the confusion spilled into his open features. 

“Ninety-Four?” Ricochet pressed, his voice shaking now.  “Ninety-Four, where are they?” He shook her again, lightly, the reaction of a man who slowly began to realize, and it was only when he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him that Cody stepped in.  “Where are they?!”

“That’s enough, trooper.” Cody insisted gently, with an edge of authority, and settled a hand on Ricochet’s arm.

“Not until she answers me.” Ricochet snapped but his hand dropped from her chin, taking her shoulder rougher than before.

“I think you know.” Cody tightened his grip on Ricochet. A silent warning.

The fragile control in Ricochet’s features snapped and his arms fell from Ninety-Four’s shoulders, his gaze darkening and his lip curled. 

“They’re all dead.” He glowered and Cody tensed at the rage in his voice.  “Our entire squad, they’re dead.” His fingers formed fists at his side.  “Because of you.”

Cody glowered at the accusation, about to let his authority as Commander outweigh the kindness in his voice when Gearshift stepped up, looming over Ricochet. His extra bulk outweighing the fact they were the same height.

“Jax was right about you.” Ricochet spat, undeterred by the silent threat growing in Gearshift’s gaze, the trickle of 212th who overheard wordlessly coming to stand behind her.  “You’re just a mistake, and you got them killed.”

“Watch your tone, brother.” Someone spat and Cody picked out the curving branches atop Cale’s helmet, his fists knotted at his side.

Only then did Ricochet spot them, the growing tide mounting behind Ninety-Four, and he shot her one last scathing look before storming off, wobbling on his injured leg and his medic retrieved the crutch, forcing it into his hands, making him walk with just the stick for support.

“Whatever happened down there is not your fault.” Cody told her quietly, assertively, stepping around to face her, watching the General retreat towards the bridge when he should be getting rest himself.  “I do not want you blaming yourself for this, that is an order, Ninety-Four.”

“Sennari.”

Cody’s gaze snapped to her, thinking he’d misheard, but Chance looked more shocked than he did, her voice spilling out strong and chillingly confident.  

“What was that, trooper?”

She repeated it again, somehow stronger, and a deathly familiar look haunted her hollow hazel eyes as she lifted them. 

“My name is Sennari.”

Sennari. Cody mulled over the word, sharing a look with Chance and the medic mouthed a frowning question. As in the poison? Cody took in the shaking clench of her dirty fist, the skin torn, nails hoarding dirt, and the feral look in her eye. He remembered the Trandoshan, his sickly greying skin. Exactly like the poison.

The Commander didn't even need to think twice. "Alright, Sennari." He clenched his hands behind his backs, her searching eyes finding his through his helmet, locking in his gaze.

"Welcome to the 212th Attack Battalion."

vod'ika = little sibling (in this context little brother) dividers by @saradika For @212thappreciation Week Day 2 Prompt: Adoption/Accidental Acquisition

[citruswriter]

The Echo of a Warrior

Pairing: Reader x Anakin Skywalker

Reader Is: Afab, gender neutral, former Jedi, firebender, trading merchant.

Anakin Is: Sith Lord, Uncharred (sorry ladies, no BBQ crispy Sith for you).

Citrus Rating: Orange, Lime if you squint

Warnings: They/Them pronouns, angst, little to no paragraphs, sloppy writing (been forever since I written), slavery mention.

A/N: This is solely based off a dream I had + me filling in the gaps and fuzzy parts. Lol. It's gonna be put into two parts. This is essentially the backstory, pt 2 will be the smut.

Listen in with me! ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

"Hey Anakin?" You rolled over onto your stomach and poked his face, causing the young Jedi Knight to crack his eyes open and side eye you. "Yes?" He questioned. "Do you think we'll be friends forever?" You asked. Anakin laughed softly, causing butterflies to flutter around in your tummy. Oh how you loved his laugh... "Of course we will, silly". He said, poking your face back. You held up your hand, raising a pinky. "Prooooooooomise?" You asked, causing Anakin to laugh again before lazily hooking his pinkie around yours. "Promise".

Chaos ensued at the temple. What was going on?! You had been peacefully sleeping when you were awoken by blaster fire. Without even dressing properly, you grabbed your lightsaber and ran out of your room, clicking the blade on. Was the Temple under a Separatist attack? You ran out only to find the clone troopers shooting up everybody in sight. Taking a step back in horror you froze. It was only until a trooper close to you raised a gun to your head did you really snap out of your trance. You swung your blade at him, cutting his gun in half. When he went to grab you with his bare hands, you slashed again, cutting them off. You fled out of plain view. This was bad. Really bad. You ran back to your room so you could quickly dress but was knocked down the ground by a body crashing into you. You yelped as you were thrown to the ground. Struggling to scramble to your feet, a hand gripped your throat and threw you against one of the Temple pillars. You looked up in panic. "Anakin?!' You gasped. The boys grip on you loosened. "A-Anakin. Anakin what the fuck is going on!" You panicked. "The Jedi Order had betrayed the Republic". He answered, eyes downcast. You stared at him. "You're lying". You muttered and the boy looked back up at you with his blue eyes. "When have I ever lied to you?" He growled, grip around your throat tightening, eyes glancing down briefly to take in the silk gown you were wearing. Your breath hitched as his eyes flickered back up to yours, anger and hurt at your mistrust in him swirling in his gaze. "You're right, you're right! I'm sorry!" You agreed. You couldn't explain the rush you felt in your body. You had such trust in this man, he could tell you to jump off a cliff and you would. And he knew this. So why didn't you trust him now? His other hand went to grip your hip, causing you to swallow thickly. "I saw Master Windu attempt to murder the Chancellor myself," he spoke in a low and dangerous tone, as if he dared you to question him again. "You need to run, (Y/N). Because of the Master Jedi betraying him, he's ordered the killing of all Jedi. I know it may seem a bit overkill. But he doesn't know who can and can't be trusted. Please. Please, pretty girl. I'm begging you. I'm giving you this one chance to run away". Your heart fluttered at the nickname. "But Anakin.. If I run, I betray the Jedi Order. They rescued me from slavery. Anakin I owe them my life". Anakin pulled you in for a tight hug, him gripping you as if you'd disappear before him. After a few seconds he pulled back. "But if you stay here. You betray me." And that's all he had to say. He immediately saw you soften before nodding. "Ok... Ok I'll go. I'll run and I'll never turn back. I'll swear off the Jedi Order." You murmured and Anakin hugged you again, inhaling your scent for what could very well be the last time. "Thank you..." You let him pull back first. And when he did, you stared up at him before turning around and running off into the night.

You awoke with a start. Memories of old plaguing your dreams. With a groan you sat up. You wish the dreams would stop, but alas they didn't. Rubbing your eyes you glanced over at your old lightsaber. It hadn't been turned on since that night at the Temple. You didn't know if it even still worked at all. You swore off all things Jedi but your lightsaber was still very dear to you. So you held onto it and it became a decoration. Sighing as you rubbed your eyes, you stood up and wiggled your way into the teeny tiny bathroom your ship held. Looking in the mirror, you dipped your hands into the bathroom water reserve and washed your face before touching up your hair so it didn't look like complete shit. Looking at your torn and dirty clothes. You decided that it would do you some good to dock soon. Set up shop for a few weeks. Get some new clothes and a hot shower. You drew the hood of your cape up as you walked up to the cockpit. Pushing buttons and flipping switches, you set a course for a nearby planet before hitting the button to jump into hyperspace. While you waited, you grabbed some juice and some junk food. Not the best of breakfasts but it was all you had right now. You tidied up your bed and went to do a quick inventory. Making a list of everything you had and coming up with prices you deemed as fair on your holopad. When a beep alerted that you were close to the planet, you stretched and walked your way over to the cockpit. Dropping out of hyperspace as you clutched the steering wheel, you paled as you almost came face to face with a Republic starship. "Fuck!" You shouted, jamming the wheel down, causing your little ship to dive. Unfortunately for you, the starship noticed as blaster fire began to head your way. A string of curses left your mouth as you dived and evaded. Smashing a button to open a comm you almost shouted, "Stand down! I'm a friendly ship! I'm only a merchant! Plea- FUCKING SHIT! Please hold your fire!" Soon the fire stopped and you heard a voice back, "Apologies. We're tractoring you in now to check your cargo and question you". You sighed in annoyance as you allowed the large starship to pull you in. You had a bad feeling about this...

"That was some skilled piloting". The officer in front of you said as he eyed you suspiciously. You fiddled with your now damp hair. The officers had been kind enough to give you a room with a shower and some fresh robes. You had taken your time freshening up until you had been summoned for questioning. "Thank you, sir. I learned from only the best." You replied. The officer only hummed back in response. "We found some Jedi things on your ship, care to explain". You attempted to hide your nervousness as you felt your old lightsaber dig into your back. You couldn't leave it on the ship, so you stuffed it into your sash and hid it. "I'm a merchant. I buy, sell, and trade. Sometimes Jedi artifacts come into my possession. People are more than willing to pay a hefty sum for such a rare item, or trade something equally as rare". You replied with a casual grin and the officer rolled his eyes. Obviously he didn't think highly of merchants. "I suppose you're correct". He replied coldly. "What's up with all the questions anyways? I've been questioned by officers before and it's never taken this long". You said casually, which was a lie. You had never been questioned by Republic officers. In fact you avoided them like they were an incurable plague, but you were curious. The energy of the ship felt... off. "If you must know, we have some dangerous prisoners on board. Don't want any of their friends coming to save them". He sneered and you nodded your head. "Well if that's all, I'd like to get to the planet's surface. Respectfully, I have business to do". The officer rolled his eyes once more and two troopers stood on either side of you, ready to escort you back to your ship. You had only turned onto your third hall when the whole ship suddenly shook. You and the troopers almost crashed into each other but you quickly recollected yourself as you heard screams. "Red Alert! The prisoners have escaped!" A voice on the intercom screamed. The two soldiers immediately abandoned you. After all, you were just a merchant. Right?

♡⑅*˖•. ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .•˖*⑅♡

Anakin fumed as he power walked the halls of his ship. "How the FUCK did one of them manage to blow a hole in this ship?!" He practically screamed. "I'm not sure sir! We think it may have been a Rebel spy!" A trooper responded. "There was also a merchant that recently boarded! We don't believe they're involved but it's not impossible!" Anakin grabbed his lightsaber, clicking the blade on. "Well? What was their name?!" He asked. The trooper grabbed the gun tighter. "(Y/N), sir!" Anakin froze and whipped around to face the trooper. He never expected to hear your name again, especially not in this context. Did you betray him finally? Or was this simply wrong place, wrong time. "Find them!" He spat. As much as he'd love to go after you himself, he couldn't. Rebel blaster fire shot his way as the trooper darted off. Two young individuals sprang forward, blue lightsabers in hand. They weren't Jedi, far from it. He could tell by their fighting style. He battled the two of them. The sound of saber clashes mixing in with the blaster fire. A girl lunged forward and attempted to pierce his side. He dodged just in time and slashed his blade forward, cutting her arms off. "Master run!" She screamed. Jerking his head, he saw a taller man run off. Growling, he jumped over crates and ran after him.

♡⑅*˖•. ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .•˖*⑅♡

Another explosion rocked the ship and you stumbled into the wall. This ship might be going down. You needed to get off. Running down another hall, a body crashed into you, causing you both to stumble. Your old training kicked in and you immediately dropped into a fighting stance, hands ignited with flames as you assessed the possible enemy. "(Y/N)?" The man questioned. You recognized the voice and immediately put your flames out "Master Ulic?! I thought you were dead!" You gasped. "Old, but not dead." He rumbled. "I'm here on a mission with the Rebel Alliance". He stated. "Actually, I could use some help. Some of my men were killed and I don't know if I can do this alone". He continued and you winced slightly. Anakin came skidding to the end of the hall. His eyes flickered between you and Master Ulic and rage immediately coursed through his veins. Of course you betrayed him. How could you? How could his sweet (Y/N) betray him? The audacity you had to- "I appreciate the offer, Master Ulic. But I'm a different person now. I swore off the Jedi a long time ago. I'm just a simple merchant now." You replied as politely as you could. The Master frowned down at you slightly. Anakin noticed his focus was all in you, not his surroundings. He took this chance to spring forward and attempt to strike. Snapping his head up, he shoved you behind him, causing you to crash to the floor and smash your head against the floor. You groaned as your head began to swirl with pain. Shakily you attempted to find your bearings. Gripping the floor, you pushed yourself up onto your knees before attempting to gather yourself onto your feet. I need to get out of here. You thought as you stumbled into the wall. Fuck I need to get out of here. You attempted to lean forward so you could flee once more but a voice tore your thoughts back to the situation at hand. "(Y/N)!" A voice called, causing you to turn around. It was Anakin... The now Sith Lord had overpowered the Master Jedi and he was now calling out to you. "(Y/N) please! You don't have to join the resistance, but at least don't let me die here!" He pleaded. You turned your gaze to Anakin, who seemed to be observing you. He could just kill the Jedi. But he wasn't. No he wanted to see your reaction. You felt as if Anakin could see straight through you. You took a step back and the look on Master Ulic's face immediately changed. "No! No, no, no! You stupid girl!" Master Ulic roared. His newfound rage gave him the adrenaline rush he needed, smashing Anakin into the wall he stood up and began to stalk towards you. You tried to turn tail and run but the man used the force to draw you in. "I always knew you were loyal to the stupid Skywalker boy. Not even the High Jedi Council saw the deep attachments you had to him. But I did! Ooooh I did". He scowled and gripped your throat when you were close enough. "Why can't you see it? He didn't love you then and he doesn't love you now! He never will! He doesn't care about anybody but himself!" And with that you snapped.

"You shut your fucking mouth," you spat with such venom that even Anakin himself was in shock. In a fit of rage you did the one thing you promised never to do again, you drew your lightsaber. Master Ulic barely dodged your blade as you drew it in a backwards handle grip. Dropping you, you dropped gracefully before spinning around to face him. You launched yourself at him, the golden-yellow glow of your Jedi Sentinel blade meeting the angry green of his Jedi Guardian blade. Blades clashed as the two of you fought. You were now fueled by an absolutely primal rage that tore through your veins. Flipping your blade to a forward hilt grab, you put your strength into the next slash, causing him to stumble backwards. Wasting no time, you clipped your blade once again before dropping down into a stance. Drawing in a breath you focused your energy into your pointer and middle fingertips. A bolt of lightning shot from your fingertips, landing square in his center mass. He flew backwards and you exhaled sharply. Unlike force lighting, which was a dark side ability, your lightning was simply an extension of your flames. It took a lot of practice and focus, but it was deadly. Rising out of your stance you stumble forward slightly, it had been some time since you exerted so much energy and, unfortunately for you, you were rather out of shape. You winced as you felt the stitch in your side that had already taken the liberty of forming. Sighing you went to turn once again. It was time for you to leave. Or so you thought. A guttural scream ripped from your throat as a dark green saber struck you through the chest. Master Ulic, although injured, wasn't dead yet. He had used the force to launch his lightsaber and plunge it through your chest. Another shriek left your lungs as the Jedi Master recalled his blade to him. He had a job to finish. You heard a scream from somewhere, but you didn't know who it belonged to. You crumbled to the floor, wailing in pain. You wouldn't die, much to Ulic's dismay. Your species had regenerative abilities and were infuriatingly difficult to kill. Your vision began to blur as you felt your body begin it's self healing process. Wailing in pain, you still attempted to flee. Clawing at the floor and dragging yourself forward, your whole body shook as you sobbed. Eventually, the pain became too much and you rolled onto your side, wailing until your throat became hoarse. Your vision began to black out as you felt your body be lifted. You could barely hear the man above you as you began to loose consciousness. "Hang in there, pretty girl. You'll be ok. Please be ok. I can't loose you again..."

Tag List: None Yet

Anywayyyyyyys. That's the first partttttttt. Might write the other part tonight. Probably will bc I'm not feeling the best so might as well put that into smthn yk? Sorry again for the sloppy writing, it's been literal ages since I've actually put effort into some writing.

[echoreconcrew]

Meet Me In the Woods

Chapter 9: Plans in Motion

Author's Note: This one is quite disjointed but its setting up for the finale. I am truly sorry I have been a bit absent lately. Yee ole heart is acting up again so, its been making it hard to find any energy. Thanks to those who keep following along. ~ Mae

Summary: Hera and Howzer on the case....

Word Count: 4,400

Warnings: General angst/brimming anxiety; lots of desperate longing, mentions of impending danger, we all know the empire, arguments, controlling behavior

The HUB | Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (coming soon!)

▄︻デ══━一

“Citizens of Ryloth, the shocking attack on your beloved senator has left you shaken, but Orn Free Taa’s condition continues to improve, and he will make a full recovery…” 

Hera crouched low beside the young girl she barely knew, eyes fixed on the soldiers below. Reaching out to mercenaries had never been part of her plan, but with few options left, it was her only hope of rescuing her parents. The leader–Hunter–had been blunt, warning her that they were likely beyond saving. Now, as she watched from the cliffside while Admiral Rampart delivered his speech about sacrifice and duty, the young Twi’lek trembled–not with fear, but with rage.

“The perpetrators of this heinous assassination attempt have been captured–”

“Assassination attempt…?” Hunter muttered, brow furrowed.

“Cham Syndulla and his insurgents–”

“That’s not what happened!” Hera protested, her voice cracking as her shoulders slumped in disbelief.

“–will answer for their betrayal.”

“Hunter, Crosshair is here–” Omega began, but Hera barely registered her words. She wasn’t interested in the clones’ complicated history with one of their own. Her focus stayed fixed on the crowd below, scanning every uniform and every face, heart pounding. Then, movement.

A group of troopers emerged, and among them was a figure in ominous black armor–Crosshair. With a rough shove, he forced someone into the open. A familiar face stumbled forward.

“That’s Valérie!” Hera gasped, her stomach twisting.

“They’re saying she’s the sniper,” said the clone with the goggles. His tone was more observational than accusatory, but it still didn’t calm the surging emotions in the girl. 

“She didn’t do it,” Hera snapped, stepping forward. “She was asleep in her room when I left with Gobi. I know she didn’t do it.”

The clone nodded slowly–not dismissive, but not hopeful either. Hera found it strange to see Val from a distance like this. Valérie had always been the one watching over everyone else. That vigilance was part of what made her so essential to Hera’s father. She kept them safe. She had their backs.

Hera could hardly remember a time without Gobi or Val in her life. Even before the war, Ryloth had been unstable. Their parents had died in the early unrest, and Hera’s father had taken in his old friend as family. That meant Val–older than Hera, but still closer than most in age–had become someone Hera deeply wanted to emulate.

Hera cherished the influence her ‘aunt’ had on her life, even if Val often felt more like the sister she’d never had. Valérie carried herself with a quiet strength, a calm certainty that Hera admired. She knew when to speak and when to listen. She moved with grace, projected quiet confidence, and trusted slowly but with depth. She could be humorous, drawing the eyes of the men, but never seeming desperate for their attention either. It was a way of being Hera longed to master.

But Hera still felt awkward–gangly, as if her limbs didn’t quite know where they belonged. She stood on the fringes of something too large, too consequential, unsure of her place in any of it. Especially now, watching Valérie–a pillar of her childhood, of her father’s trust–being paraded before an angry crowd, accused of crimes Hera knew she hadn’t committed.

“Well, they clearly think she did,” Wrecker muttered, his voice a low growl behind her. “And if Crosshair’s the one marching her out... that’s not gonna end well.”

Hera didn’t respond. Her gaze remained locked on Valérie, who was being dragged toward the center of the square, shoulders drawn back, face unreadable. The harsh afternoon sun cast sharp shadows over the cracked stone, highlighting every movement like a stage performance none of them had chosen to attend.

The crowd thickened around the perimeter, bodies pressing in close. Dust rose in little clouds beneath restless feet. Angry murmurs rippled like static through the air–whispers that cracked into sharp bursts of outrage or confusion. Faces blurred into a collective scowl: farmers still in work-stained clothes, off-duty soldiers with tension in their stances, mothers holding children tight against their hips. Some shouted demands for justice; others simply watched, uncertain.

Hera could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her chest. The square felt smaller than it should have, claustrophobic despite the open air. The heat from the bodies, the dirt in the air, the scent of sweat and tension–it all mixed into something oppressive.

She should do something. Say something. As the clones to act and quickly. But what? She was just... Hera. Too young. Too unproven. Too unsure.

And yet, as Valérie was shoved forward–her boots scuffing against the worn stone, her head held high despite the chains–something cold settled deep in Hera’s stomach. This wasn’t just about Valérie. It was about all of them. What the empire had planned for Hera’s father and mother in prison. The uncertainty Hera felt being the one attempting to rescue them all.

“Captain Howzer won’t let them hurt her,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “He’s a good man. He won’t stand by and let this happen.”

“A Reg?” Wrecker asked, raising a brow.

“I’m getting real tired of everyone acting like all Regs are bad,” Echo shot back, tone edged with frustration.

Their argument barely registered in Hera’s mind. She was focused on Valérie–bruised, silent, but still defiant–as she was forced to stand before the crowd.

“They can’t execute her without a trial,” Tech interjected, eyes fixed on his datapad. “Especially not in front of Cham’s supporters. That’s a direct violation of GAR protocol. If they go through with it, they will spark a riot.”

Hera leaned in, her eyes scanning the glowing screen in Tech’s hands. A file was open–Valérie’s profile, stark and impersonal. Lines of text, ID codes, timestamps. All clinical, all detached. It was like watching her friend disappear behind a wall of bureaucracy, her loyalty and compassion reduced to suspicions and strategic liabilities.

Behind her, the clones slipped away, speaking in low tones. Hera didn’t follow the conversation–her thoughts remained tangled in the data before her.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Omega said softly, stepping closer.

Hera blinked, then gave a small nod. “Valérie has helped my father for as long as I can remember. Her brother, Gobi–”

“He was the one who got the supplies!” Omega interrupted, her face lighting up with realization.

Despite the tight coil of tension wrapping around her chest, Hera managed a faint smile. Omega’s voice, bright with misplaced optimism, cut through the heaviness like a sliver of morning light through storm clouds. For a moment, it was like hearing herself–before. Before the raids. Before the arrests. Before her childhood became a battlefield.

“Yes. Uncle Gobi never trusted the Empire,” Hera said softly.

“And Valérie?” Omega asked, tilting her head, curiosity unshaken.

Hera hesitated. Valérie. Just saying her name brought a familiar ache–like trying to recall a melody long unsung. “She always wanted to wait until we knew more,” Hera said, her voice quieter now. “To believe in peace, like my father did. She thought that if we didn’t provoke the Empire, they’d leave us alone.”

Her breath caught. The words felt naïve now, bitter in hindsight. “Now they’re all in prison. Accused of crimes they didn’t commit.”

The worry bled into her voice, no longer restrained, no longer easily masked. It was raw. Real.

Omega opened her mouth. “Don’t worry–”

But the thought never finished.

A sharp crash shattered the moment. Metal against stone. A burst of sparks.

Hera spun, instinct taking over, just in time to see Hunter land hard atop a probe droid, his blade driving clean through its viewport. The droid convulsed beneath him, electrical currents snapping wildly before the machine collapsed in a twitching heap.

“Oh good. A probe droid,” Tech muttered, his voice bone-dry as he stepped closer to examine the wreckage.

But Hera wasn’t listening.

Her heartbeat surged, pounding in her ears. The Empire knew. Or would, soon. If they had probe droids in the hills, watching the square, watching them–it meant their cover was gone. Whatever slim window they had left to get her parents, to stop this before it spiraled out of control, was closing. Fast.

Chopper whirred forward on stiff wheels, his mechanical arms hovering tensely over the smoking wreck. Even the droid seemed to sense it. Hera’s stomach twisted.

She turned sharply, scanning the crowd below, the tops of heads, the movement, the haze of heat and unrest. Where were they? Her parents. Valérie. Anyone. She searched desperately for a familiar shape, a familiar face–but the moment had passed. The crowd had shifted. The image gone.

She clenched her fists. Part of her wanted to run straight down into the square, to shout the truth, to drag them all out of those chains with her bare hands if she had to. But what then? She was just one girl. A pilot in training. Not a soldier. Not a leader.

Not yet.

The weight of that thought landed like stone in her chest. She hated it. Hated the fear that kept her still. Hated the part of her that doubted if she was strong enough to change any of this.

“Come on!” Omega hissed, grabbing her arm with surprising strength.

The others were already moving, slipping like shadows down the ridge and into the brush, fast and silent. They didn’t have time.

Hera turned back one last time. The square lay below them like a powder keg, one spark from igniting. Valérie was still down there. Her parents. Everything she cared about.

She let herself be pulled into the dark with the others, but her gaze lingered. Hope trailed behind her like smoke, curling away into the open sky.

▄︻デ══━一

“No, Howzer. Some isn’t good enough. I want all of Syndulla’s supporters found,” Rampart snapped, each word honed like a vibroblade.

Howzer stood rigid, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. His hands, stiff at his sides, trembled with the effort not to ball into fists. The speech they’d just left still sat like rot in his gut. Watching Crosshair and his squad drag Valérie into the open–bruised, bound, and forced to her knees before her people–had almost made him retch inside his helmet. It hadn’t been a trial. It wasn’t justice. It was theater. A warning shot fired through the heart of Ryloth.

And now this. A command to tear the Syndulla name from the soil itself.

Rampart’s words rang with clinical precision, but the message was clear: round them up. All of them. Anyone with a voice, a memory, a heartbeat that echoed loyalty to Cham Syndulla.

Howzer swallowed hard, nausea coiling low in his stomach. These weren’t insurgents. These were citizens–farmers, traders, neighbors. Many had fought beside him in the war. Had called him brother. They had trusted the clones when the Republic stood. Trusted him.

“Sir,” he said, steadying his voice with every ounce of restraint he had, “if we keep rounding up peaceful citizens–especially after parading someone they respect, someone they love, battered and bleeding–we’re not preserving order. We’re inciting rebellion. There will be an uprising.”

For a brief, flickering second, he let himself believe logic might break through. That somewhere in Rampart’s spine-straight posture and sterile diction, there still existed a man who understood the meaning of restraint. Or even shame.

Rampart only scoffed. “Then they’ll be arrested as well,” he replied, not even glancing back. “Peace has a cost, Captain.”

Howzer didn’t speak. Couldn’t. The bitterness in his mouth was suffocating.

He had worn the uniform with pride once. Sworn his oath to protect peace, to defend the people who could not defend themselves. But this? This wasn’t peacekeeping. This was tyranny wrapped in procedure. Oppression dressed in protocol.

And as Rampart turned away, his silhouette a picture of cold efficiency, Howzer’s chest tightened with something heavier than anger. Guilt. Fury. Resolve.

At what point does following orders become betrayal?

He turned sharply and left, boots pounding through the corridor with quiet urgency.

“Clone Force 99 is on Ryloth–”

The words hit him the moment he entered the operations room. The voice delivering them–cold, sharp, disdainful–was unmistakable. Crosshair.

Howzer stopped short. Every muscle in his body tensed.

That clone–no, that Imperial lapdog–was becoming a greater danger with every passing hour. Watching him escort Valérie into the square, that smug detachment in his eyes, had nearly pushed Howzer past the edge. And the bruises–new, raw, cruel–those hadn’t been there the last time he’d seen her. Howzer had wanted to lunge across the square, wanted to throw Crosshair off the steps and watch the cruelty vanish from his face as he hit the stone below.

But he hadn’t. Not yet. Not when there was still something to salvage. Some hope, however fragile, still to protect. Crosshair and Rampart were already deep in tactical talk–troop movement, blockades, quiet assassinations disguised as raids. Howzer barely heard it. His mind had gone elsewhere.

If Clone Force 99 was truly here… that meant something. They’d vanished after Kamino, branded traitors by the Empire, rumored ghosts since. And now they were on Ryloth? Why? He stared blankly at the glowing data display, barely registering the details. If they were here, then maybe–not certainly, but maybe–they weren’t just watching. They were moving. Acting.

And Hera... Hera had always been resourceful, sharper than her years. She had fire in her blood, the kind that didn't go out, even in the dark. It was just possible–just barely possible–that she’d made contact. That she had allies beyond what he imagined. That she was already fighting, even from the shadows.

A plan might be in motion. Rescue. Disruption. Something. Anything.

And for the first time in what felt like days, a flicker of something stirred in his chest–not hope, exactly. Hope was too clean a word. It was more like defiance. Quiet, coiled, and deadly.

He would play his part for now. Let Rampart believe he was still loyal. Let Crosshair gloat in his cold precision.

But Howzer had made his decision.

He would not be complicit.

He would not stand by while the people he was sworn to protect were broken in chains.

▄︻デ══━一

“I don’t need a lecture, Chop,” Hera muttered, voice low and laced with defeat.

Chopper warbled indignantly, his dome swiveling in agitation as he rolled in front of her, trying to block her path. He beeped again–sharp, argumentative tones that made his point clear: leave now, while they still had a chance.

But Hera didn’t move. Her arms were crossed, her jaw set.

“As if you understand what it means to have family,” she snapped, softer now, almost to herself.

It felt wrong. Deeply wrong. Every instinct inside her screamed not to run–not without her parents. Even if Clone Force 99 had said no, even if Chopper was insisting they flee, she couldn’t abandon them. She’d find another way. She had to.

Behind her, soft footsteps approached.

“Hunter means well,” Omega said gently.

Hera turned to find the younger girl watching her with those impossibly hopeful eyes.

“I know you’re scared,” Omega continued. “But don’t give up. He’ll come around.”

Omega’s certainty made Hera’s stomach twist. How could she be so sure? These clones owed Hera nothing. They didn’t even know her. And yet Omega spoke as though their help was a given, as though trust were something easily earned. Naïve. That was the word that came to Hera’s mind. Sweet, brave, and determined–but undeniably naïve.

Hera studied her. She was young. Younger than Hera, probably. And yet there was a strange sense of wisdom beneath Omega’s optimism. A wisdom born not from age, but from experience–however different it might be. Still, Hera couldn’t help but question her.

“Why do you trust him so much?” she asked, voice flat as she turned back toward the wall, unwilling to let her emotions show.

There was a pause, and then Omega answered without hesitation.

“Because he’s my brother.”

Hera turned, eyes wide. “Brother? Him?”

Chopper emitted a confused squawk, echoing Hera’s disbelief.

She’d heard a bit about clones before–how they were all genetically identical, bred for war, bred to follow orders. Sure, there were occasional differences–haircuts, scars, maybe even personality quirks–but they were still soldiers, cut from the same cloth. Like Howzer. Like all the others stationed on Ryloth.

But the Bad Batch? They were different. Different in every way.

When she’d first met them–on that tense ride back with Gobi–she had asked. Why did they look and act so unlike the clones she’d seen before? Gobi hadn’t had a good answer.

But now… it made a strange kind of sense. Omega was one of them.

“They all are,” Omega said, nodding toward the other clones hiding nearby.  Hera blinked, her mind racing.

Wrecker–the loud one with the booming laugh–had a childlike joy about him. His voice, though deeper and rougher, carried a tone not unlike Omega’s. Echo, cold and mechanical at first glance, had a quiet intensity, a conviction–Hera recognized that in Omega too. Tech, with his sharp logic and quick tongue, shared her facial features more clearly than the others in his large quizzical eyes. And Hunter… he looked closest to the standard clones. Yet there was something behind his eyes. Something tired. Something fiercely protective.

“They’re more like me than the others,” Omega added, as if reading her thoughts.

Hera was quiet for a moment, then exhaled slowly.

“You’re lucky,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Throughout the war, she’d seen the bond the clones shared. That unspoken connection. Calling each other brother without hesitation. Fighting and dying for each other without a second thought.

Hera had no siblings. No army of brothers standing behind her. Just her father–and now, he was in danger. So was her mother. Her whole world was crumbling, and all she had was a stubborn droid and a plan no one believed in.

Except… Omega.

“You can trust them too,” Omega said softly. “We just need to think of a plan. Something that’ll convince Hunter it’s the right move.”

Hera hesitated. “Why would he listen to me?”

It was a fair question. Hunter had made it clear–rescuing her parents was risky, maybe impossible. Hera had no leverage, no resources. Just desperation.

But Omega didn’t flinch.

“Because it’s strategic,” she said simply. “Ryloth is your home. You know it better than we ever could.” That stopped Hera cold. Strategic. Not sentimental. Not emotional. Tactical. Important.

Her heart beat faster.

She did know Ryloth. Its back alleys, hidden paths, escape tunnels. She knew where the Empire patrolled, where they didn’t. She’d mapped it in her head, on her joyrides with Gobi. She had information–real, valuable information. Maybe more than she realized.

For the first time in days, she felt something spark in her chest.

It wasn’t just hope.

It was belief.

Someone believed in her–not as a child, not as a symbol, but as a partner. Not her uncle, manipulating her to get back at her father. Not even her parents, trying to protect her from the truth. Omega believed in Hera Syndulla. In what she could do.

Hera straightened. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I do.”

And in that moment, she understood something that would stay with her for the rest of her life:

Rebellion doesn’t start with grand speeches or fleets in the sky. It starts in quiet places. In conversations between children who refuse to give up. It begins not in anger, but in conviction.

A single spark, burning too brightly to be extinguished.

▄︻デ══━一

Cham was cradling Eleni in his arms when Howzer entered the holding area, the dim light of the cell block flickering faintly against the cold durasteel walls. The atmosphere was heavy–charged with grief, betrayal, and something worse: disappointment.

In the shadows behind them, Gobi stood with his arms crossed, already scowling, his eyes narrowing into hard, silent judgment before Howzer could even open his mouth. The message was clear. He wasn’t welcome here.

Then Cham looked up.

There was no greeting. No hesitation. Just a burning mixture of anger and pain smoldering in his eyes.

“So this is the side you’ve chosen?” Cham asked.

The words were calm, but they struck like a blow.

Howzer stood straighter, his jaw tightening. He had expected this. Maybe even deserved it. The illusion of loyalty still had to be maintained–at least to those watching above. His visits to the cells had been justified on official record as "interrogation," a chance to extract valuable information. But in truth, he was searching–for a way to help them. For a clue as to where Hera might be. For a way to coordinate, somehow, with the girl he prayed hadn’t given up yet. With Valérie still in custody and time slipping through his fingers like sand, he couldn’t afford to lose any chance.

He inhaled sharply, trying to hold the tension at bay. “Look. You both attacked an Imperial convoy. What did you think would happen?”

His voice was firm, laced with military detachment–but his eyes betrayed something else. Desperation. He wasn’t here to reprimand them. He needed to know what they knew. Maybe there was something they hadn’t told him during his last visit. Something that could turn the tide, however small.

Eleni met his gaze without blinking. Her posture, even behind the cell's energy field, radiated quiet strength.

“Taa gave us no choice. We had to protect Hera,” she said, her voice ringing with steel certainty.

That was Eleni. Fiercely maternal. Always calm, always thinking three moves ahead. Even when fear had its claws in her, she spoke with unwavering control. She believed in Hera–Howzer had seen that. Maybe more than Cham ever let himself show. But beneath that belief was something primal. That same protectiveness that made her so dangerous when cornered.

Howzer scanned the corridor. No boots echoing down the halls. No eyes behind the security cams–he’d made sure of that. He stepped closer and leaned into the red glow of the energy barrier, lowering his voice to a hiss. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

His tone softened, almost pleading. He searched their eyes, trying to reach through the barrier, through the anger. Trying to remind them that he was still the same man who’d once stood beside them in battle, who had dined with them in peace, who had laughed in simpler times.

“Admiral Rampart’s squad is out there looking for her. She’s in danger. So please. If you know where she is, tell me. I’ll protect her.”

The words came out raw. Honest. But they were met with a wall more impenetrable than the one that separated them.

Cham’s response came with a scoff.

“Like how you swore to protect Ryloth. We trusted you, Howzer. I won’t make that mistake again.”

His voice was clipped. Heavy. It wasn’t a shout, but it hit harder than one ever could. Howzer felt something in him flinch, something he couldn’t quite hide. The space between them suddenly felt oceans wide.

His heart sank. The window for action was closing. He might still find Hera, might still help–but without their trust, every step would be slower, riskier. And time… time was running out. Not just for the Syndullas. But for Valérie too.

Then, Gobi stepped forward, his voice sharp and bitter.

“Valérie trusted you. Now look at her.”

The name stung like a lash. Valérie. Her face flashed through Howzer’s mind–the last time he saw her, being dragged away in restraints. Head held high, proud even in chains. But her eyes… they’d looked back at him. Not with anger. Not with blame. Just one question in her eyes: What are you waiting for?

“I am trying to help her,” he said, the frustration seeping through now as he leaned against the cell’s edge, the hum of the energy field vibrating faintly beneath his forearm. His voice cracked at the edges. “I just want to get her off-world. They are going to kill her, Gobi. I–”

He broke off, the words choking in his throat. For a second, Gobi’s anger faltered. There was something in his expression–a flicker, a fracture. He wasn’t ready to forgive, but he was listening.

“I need her safe,” Howzer continued, his voice quieter now. “I can’t live with myself if she dies for a crime she hasn’t committed.”

It wasn’t strategy anymore. It was truth. A truth that weighed so heavily on his shoulders he feared it might crush him. If he lost her… it wouldn’t just be a failed mission. It would be a part of himself he couldn’t ever repair.

Cham wasn’t swayed.

“Then why haven’t you testified that you did not witness her do it?” he asked coldly.

Howzer clenched his jaw. He’d thought about it–had nearly walked into Rampart’s office more than once, willing to risk it all. But it wasn’t that simple.

“Because that Imperial snake killed my man,” he snapped. “I have to be smart about this. I can’t just openly act or I’ll lose the upper hand. But if we–”

“No,” Cham interrupted, his voice like steel. “There is no ‘we.’ Not this time, Howzer.”

Silence fell again, thick and suffocating.

“And if you seek my trust again,” Cham added quietly, “you will need to prove it is worthy of reclaiming.”

“Cham,” Howzer said, trying one last time.

But the man’s eyes were already turning away.

“Go. We have nothing to say to you.”

“Gobi–” Howzer turned, grasping for something, anything.

But Eleni’s voice stopped him. It was soft, but laced with a grief that hurt more than anger. “Howzer, please.”

Her gaze met his. The fierce protectiveness was still there, but so was the hurt. The fear of a mother whose daughter was missing. The disappointment of a friend who felt betrayed. He nodded. There was nothing more to say.

He straightened, squaring his shoulders with military precision, and turned away. His boots echoed dully down the corridor, a rhythm of failure that followed him like a shadow.

They had every right not to trust him. He couldn’t deny that. Not after all they’d lost. And Valérie… They didn’t even know how far his devotion to her truly went. How many times he’d silenced himself to keep her safe. And now, she sat alone, deep within the prison’s walls. Solitary. Cut off. A prisoner of the very Empire he served.

And what had his silence accomplished? He’d tried to protect her by pretending not to care.Now he feared it might cost her everything. For now, he could only wait. And hope. Hope that Hera Syndulla still had her father’s fire–and her mother’s cunning. Because if anyone could turn the tide, it was her.

And if she couldn't… there might be no one left who could.

Tag List

@legacygirlingreen @saiwaispirit @leenathegreengirl @returnofthepineapple @citrus-and-things @heidnspeak @loyaltechphan @thecoffeelorian @foxgirl95 @freesia-writes @fiveofirstmuse @clonethirstingisreal @justanotherdikutsimp @vrycurious @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @themeghanlodon @cw80831 @whimsy-of-worlds @separatistnightmare @alor-ika @imabeautifulbutterfly @mae-lou-ron @dreamie411 @noirrart @teryx16 @badbatchbruna @phoenix-angel-suyari

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Midnight Masquerade - Invitation

Summary: You receive a mysterious invitation to an equally mysterious costume party off-world. While you don't normally do things like this, you're glad you decided to attend this party, especially once you realize what you stand to gain.

Warnings: reader is a monsterfucker; monster!clone au; unexplained Force magic potions; alcohol consumption; this intro is pretty tame but minors DNI regardless; individual chapters will be tagged with specific kinks and additional warnings

Word Count: 2.8k

MDFM's masterlist | Suggested listening for this series

You’d been distracted all day, mind fixated on the mysterious invitation and accompanying note you returned home to last night. A simple rectangle of orange paper, the invitation’s words spun dizzying circles in your mind: “Come not as you are...but as you wish to be.” The note, signed simply from “your favorite trooper,” explained that the proclaimed “midnight masquerade” is for a costume party to be held today, off-world—but that’s the extent of the information you know. 

Maker, you don’t normally do things like this. Granted, you don’t often have time to do things like this; working as a senatorial aide leaves much to be desired in terms of a healthy work/life balance. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’ve been feeling stuck lately, wishing for something greater, something better, something more, to happen to you.

Which brings you here, to the mystery destination. The ship you’d chartered on Coruscant had given you a gorgeous view from space of this planet, a giant crystal ball, glimmering pastel blue in the light of the local star. Up close, though, the landscape is even more breathtaking. Towering spires of crystal glow from the inside in shades of white, blue, and purple. As you step tentatively toward the nearby town, the ground crunches underfoot, as though you walk over a field of tiny crystals. Jaw hanging open, a rush of awed excitement pours through you, electric and hot. 

The town itself looks almost out of place. Curving durasteel and plaster walls clash in harsh juxtaposition with the natural landscape. So far, you’ve seen no signs of other people or the planet’s native inhabitants. Swallowing thickly, you do a full 360. Anxiety begins to churn in your stomach. Thoughts, each darker than the last, chase each other in circles in your mind. In your palm, you clutch the invitation so hard it crumples.

“Hello there,” a singsong, ethereal voice calls.

“Kriff!” You nearly jump out of your skin. 

“I did not mean to startle you,” the voice says. A moment later, a tall, slender being emerges from behind one of the nearby pillars. Skin almost the same shade of blue as the crystal, they smile at you with such otherworldly beauty that you find you can’t breathe properly. Standing easily ten feet tall, they seem to glide forward, robes of pure black draping over their body like shadows, iridescent hair cascading down their back.

“Do you carry an invitation?”

You blink dumbly. “Um. Y-Yes. Here.” You hurry to smooth out the piece of paper before presenting it.

Their cloudy eyes drift serenely down to the paper. “Excellent. Right this way. There are many who have already arrived.”

Turning, they begin to meander towards town. You rush to catch up. As you approach the cluster of buildings, you notice signs of the party that was promised. Bassy music thrums up through the soles of your feet, and the scent of mulled cider tantalizes your nose and taste buds alike. But still a worm of anxiety wriggles within you. 

“Sorry, but, what exactly is this party?”

The strange being’s gaze caresses your face. “It is a most sacred ceremony in celebration of life, during a time in which death is closest. The spirits grow restless; we do our best to placate them through dressing in costume, among other things.”

As a senatorial aide, you’ve had many years’ practice of schooling your expression into polite neutrality. It’s a mask you wear well. You find yourself donning it now. While you don’t discount the possibility of veils between planes, spirits, and the like—not to mention the Force, not with the Jedi constantly in the Senate—you personally harbor no such beliefs. 

“Understood,” you say. 

The being chuckles, a pleasant, tinkling sound, like a wind chime in the evening breeze. “Not yet. But you soon will.” They glide to a halt in front of a large building, from which the sounds and smells of merriment emanate. “Here I leave you.” 

In the time it takes for you to approach the door and turn back to thank your guide, they’ve vanished. A shiver snakes up your spine. “Creepy.”

The blaring, synth-rock music is a physical force to the chest as you push the door open. Where the landscape outside is a swirl of crisp, crystalline blues, the interior is a foggy expanse lit by hues of rich violet, burnt orange, and vivid green. Gnarled, bare trees dot the large room as decoration. Several dozen high-top tables cloaked in tattered cloths are laden with food and drink. 

Perhaps most striking, though, are the dozens upon dozens of troopers in costume. 

Door falling shut behind you, you can’t contain your wide, incredulous smile. As you begin to step toward the dance floor, you catch sight of Mayday, Hexx, and Veetch adorned in identical Frankenstein’s-monster-like face paint. Through a break in the crowd, you spot Kix carrying far too many shots in one hand, dressed as—a slutty nurse? You blink to make sure you saw that right.

Interspersed throughout the crowd are a handful of other nat-borns. You recognize none of them.

Someone grabs your arm. Jerking your head around, you heave a relieved sigh at the familiar sight of Rex. Atop his head rests a wire halo. His body is dressed in a loose, draping white toga, with fluffy white wings protruding from his back.

Your eyebrows shoot up, both in amusement and in genuine joy to see your friend. “Rex! I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“I lost a bet,” he admits with a cavalier smile. “Come on, we’ve got a spot saved for you.” 

Chest warming at his words (and definitely not at the glimpse of his partially bare, toned torso), you follow eagerly. Around you, costumed clones chatter away, sip drinks, and just generally appear far more relaxed than you’ve ever seen any of them before.

Near the edge of the room, lower tables have been set with seating and peculiar centerpieces. Glowing from within, the vase-like decorations sprout darkened and decaying flowers, stuck through with glitter bats, cats, and pumpkins—an odd assortment for a crystalline planet, but you’re distracted from the thought when you spot the table Rex leads you to. 

“When you said ‘we,’ I thought—”

“Torrent Company?” He flashes a wry grin over his shoulder. “Not quite. Gotta keep you on your toes, mesh’la.”

Squished around a table that is far too small for all of them are another ten troopers. Present are the entirety of Clone Force 99—a rare sight to see them sitting still; Commanders Cody, Wolffe, and Fox—your knees weaken when you realize you’ve never actually seen Fox without his helmet; and, deep in discussion, Fives and Sister, both of whom you’ve developed budding friendships with.

Rex squeezes into the booth between Cody and Fives. 

Jostled by his captain’s return, Fives glances around. His expression brightens when he sees you. “There’s our favorite aide!” he calls. 

Emboldened by his attention, you snag a nearby chair and pull it up to the last bit of free space at the table. To your left, Wolffe arches one severe eyebrow. His skin shines with a gray pallor, and a dark, twisting crown rises out of his curls. Black robes that look suspiciously like General Koon’s wrap around his body. To your right, Echo, dressed to the nines in a custom-tailored suit with red bowtie, gives you a genuine smile and nod. The rest of the troopers cheer or raise their glasses to you, welcoming you to the party.

“About time you showed up,” Fox deadpans. 

Someone pushes a shot into your hands. “What, didn’t think I’d miss getting blackmail material on you all, did you?”

As the others whoop and holler, Fox fixes you with a flat stare; around his eyes glint realistic scales, painted the same hue of red as his armor. Segmented horns curl up from his graying hair. As he lifts his drink to his lips, you catch the tiniest nod of appreciation from him. Your entire body flushes in satisfaction. 

Maker, this bunch is going to be the death of you.

You let yourself get swept into the current of the conversation. For the most part, you content yourself to listen. Occasionally one of them will ask you for input from a senatorial perspective, and they all seem to value what you have to add. But you’re more than happy just to observe. While each and every one of them are absolute stunners in regular life, tonight they all look divine, glowing with relaxation and costume makeup.

Most of their costumes are easy to parse together. Rex and Cody seem to have coordinated, Cody dressed as a devil to counter Rex’s angelic nature; Hunter has opted to dress as a werewolf halfway in the process of transforming; on Crosshair’s neck you spy two pinpricks of fake blood; Tech has donned a blood-spattered lab coat and swapped his usual yellow-tinted glasses for swirled ones; and the scales on Fox’s bare skin reveal his inner dragon. But you can’t quite pin down what Wrecker, Echo, Sister, Wolffe, and even Fives have dressed as.

With a shrug, you assure yourself you’ll find out at some point. 

You knock back the shot at last and grimace as it burns down your throat. Cody slides you another with a dangerous wink; you raise an eyebrow and shoot him a wink of your own. The deep, pulsing thrum of the music washes through you, and you let it control the rate of your heart. And you miss, or perhaps choose to ignore, the lingering looks they all give you, the ones that trail down your body and study your face with equal intensity. Heat, stoked by their looks and the liquid courage, simmers below your skin. 

The barest hint of an idea begins to form in your tipsy, buzzing brain. 

When Fives shoots you a conspiratorial smirk, raising his glass in a toast to you, you enact the half-formed plan. From the cluster of finger foods at the center of the table, you pluck a skewered olive, lift it to your mouth, and, eyes boring into Fives’s, make a show of licking the salty snack before wrapping your lips around it. Fives sputters and chokes on his drink. 

“Mesh’la,” Wolffe grits out, a warning note in his gravelly voice.

You turn wide, innocent eyes on him. “Something the matter, Commander?”

His grip on his glass tightens, to the point you worry he’s going to shatter it. Resisting the urge to wilt under his mismatched glare, you snag another olive and suck it into your mouth in much the same manner as the first. Wolffe breaks first, glancing away.

Around the table, the rest of them shift in their seats, acting like they didn’t all just watch you practically give head to those poor olives. Stifling a smirk of your own, you lean back, satisfaction lingering in your veins. After a moment, the conversation resumes its ebb and flow around you.

You’re not sure how much time passes before the music quiets and a dreamy, floating voice comes over the speakers. “Revered guests, now is the time for you to decide whether you will cross the shadowed veil and experience another form of living. Potions will be provided for consumption. You may notice that you become more than a mere costume. Be assured, the potion’s effects are temporary.

“One final word of caution: in the case of sexual coupling, it is inadvisable for more than one person to partake of the potion.”

A buzz of confused, excited chatter whispers across the assembled crowd. At the mention of possible intimacy, your skin flushes, heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. Whoever had been speaking has just dredged up the unspoken thing between you and every person at your table. An idea begins to bloom in your mind, spurred on by the alcohol in your system, the bone-rattling music, the sweet scent of the fog machines, the looks they’ve been giving you all night. You glance, suddenly shy, and find Rex already looking at you with concern slanted across his brow. With a smile, you relax. 

“I’ll get the potions!” Sister clambers out of her seat and disappears into the crowd. She reemerges several minutes later carrying a tray of shot glasses, each filled with a murky, swirling liquid. You grimace at it when she hands you one.

“We’re supposed to drink this?” you mutter, voice drowned out as the music resumes its previous volume. 

Wrecker sniffs at his glass. “It smells nice. Herbal and fruity.” 

Rex catches your attention again. “Maybe just one of us should try it first.”

You’re about to affirm what a good idea that is, when Cody’s gaze shifts from you to someone behind you. Turning, you watch as one of the Wolfpack downs the thick drink in one go. For a moment, nothing happens, and then his entire body shudders violently. You must have blinked, because suddenly he’s no longer fully corporeal, and instead floats a few inches above the ground, his body and clothes gray vapor and mist. You realize with a start that the entire squad is costumed similarly to Wolffe; he’s the only one wearing a crown.

Next to you, Wolffe heaves a sigh at the same time that Fives and Sister gasp out, “Wizard!” The two of them share a conspiratorial grin, then, clinking their glasses together, throw back the mystery shot.

The same odd shudder-and-blink phenomenon happens to them. In place of Fives’s plastic horns and fabric tail are suddenly real, bony horns protruding from his forehead and a writhing, leathery pointed tail. Sister’s nature-themed costume sprouts living flowers. Her braided hair becomes a mass of vines. 

“It appears that the drink turns you into your costume,” Tech observes, one finger raised.

“I would have never known,” Crosshair snarks. He, too, downs his shot. Skin growing paler, the mock wound at his neck dries into faded scars. When he flashes you a smirk, two pointed canines poke from between his lips. Arousal shoots through you with sudden heat, your core clenching.

One by one, the troopers around you down their potions, until you’re the last one left. Mulling over the announcement, you weigh your options. You’d be a liar if you said you haven’t had a few...indecent thoughts since arriving tonight. But you know none of these troopers would hold it against you if you decided to drink the potion and similarly transform.

Twirling the glass in your fingers, you shake your head to clear it and set the drink on the table. 

“I have a proposition for you all,” you say, leaning forward. You preen a little when you see you have their rapt attention. Confidence surges through you, hot and languid and bold. A smile curls over your face.

“I’ve always wanted to know how a monster fucks.” 

For a brief moment, the table remains draped in silence, punctuated only by the nearby raucous shouts of other clones and the heady, bassy music. Then, all at once—

Tech, always aiming for precision: “Technically, we are not monsters, but rather realistic imitations of them.” 

Crosshair, snarky and smug: “Really think you could handle it, doll?”

Cody, one stern eyebrow raised: “Is that so, mesh’la?” 

Sister blushes a wonderful shade of red, giggling as she reaches up to close Fives’s hanging jaw. Hunter squints at you. In the strobing multicolored lights, his eyes seem to reflect like an animal’s. Only Wolffe and Echo seem to have maintained their composure, though you catch the dangerous smirk toying at Echo’s lips.

As the initial outburst of reactions subsides, Fox snorts, a gasp of smoke puffing from his now-elongated snout. “That sure was a funny way of begging, little one.” 

“I only beg for those who earn it, Commander Fox,” you say, a little too sweetly, judging by the way his eyes—dark and reptilian and piercing—rove your features.

Rex clears his throat, drawing your attention back towards him. Your breath catches; in the chaos of everyone transforming into their costumed selves, you’d somehow missed the finer details of Rex’s new form. The fluffy white wings, formerly attached by elastic, now rest gently against his back, shifting as he adjusts in his seat. Floating above his head, casting his face in radiant beauty, the halo burns in a miniature solar flare. 

“All you have to do is say the word, mesh’la,” he says.

Swallowing, the trickling realization of what you’ve gotten yourself into finally sinking in, you shake your head. You dart up from your seat and rush to a nearby trash receptacle. Thankfully, you don’t have to dig, the object you need resting near the top. 

You return to the table with an empty bottle. Eleven near-identical expressions of dismay and confusion clear as you settle back into your seat and rest the bottle on the table in front of you.

“Let’s let fate decide.” 

You spin the bottle, watching, mesmerized and anxious, as it rotates in a blur, before coming to a rest, its neck pointing at...

...Crosshair

...Fives

...Echo

...Sister

...Tech

...Rex and Cody

...Wrecker

...Fox

...Wolffe

...Hunter

Ragu list: @the-hexfiles @thorsterstrudle @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @freesia-writess @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebell @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueenn @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @mandos-mind-trick @idontgetanysleep @eyeluvmusic21 @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter (if you'd like to be added or removed, click here!)

[catohphm]

In my latest Hogwarts Legacy Star Wars AU brainrot today, I looked into the question of how Jedi Danny would survive Order 66. I ended up coming up with an action sequences where he uses his lightwhip and a speeder bike to escape.

Master Islwyn was out in battle on a Separatist-occupied plant. He and his clone battalion headed into a tunnel to secure the next area. They approached what was a checkpoint that seemed to be deserted. A squadron of CIS soldiers emerged from behind crates and containers to ambush them, catching them by surprise. The Jedi and his clone commander quickly took cover behind some containers while the troopers returned fire at the CIS squadron. It was a short but fierce exchange of rapid blaster bolts.

After all the hostiles were downed, the group was about proceed further down the tunnel toward their target when the clone commander suddenly unholstered and readied his DC-17 blaster - Danny overheard it and promptly disarmed him with his lightwhip. The pistol hit the ground and went off, the shot hitting a weak supporting pillar. It fell over and landed behind him and the commander, separating them from the battalion.

The two engaged in a hand-to-hand brawl as the tunnel started to collapse. The Jedi overpowered the commander with the help of his lightwhip. Unconscious, he was thrown over the pillar to his clones, who had no choice but to hastily retreat while leaving Danny to be crushed by rubble. Meanwhile, the Jedi quickly commandered a Flitknot speeder bike that belonged to one of the Separatist men and floored it.

Although the Flitknot was a fast speeder with good acceleration, it was still a race for Danny's life. The tunnel had just started to cave in, and it was catching up. It was going by like a blur as the vehicle was picking up speed. Boots deep on the pedal, the Jedi hunched forward, gaining momentum. The falling rubble was still reaching closer, threatening to devour him. It now inches away from his speeder. The light at the end of the tunnel had to be close. Danny squinted his eyes closed in desperate hope, leaving himself in the hands of the Force. Then, in a big blast of dirt and dust, he bolted out of the tunnel portal on the other side. He had made it.

If Danny had not pulled off his escape with the speeder bike, he would have perished like the Separatist troopers in the tunnel. Like the collapsing tunnel threatening to obliterate everyone in it, the CIS, Jedi and the Republic would be crushed by the colossal might of the Empire, ruthless in its hunger for power of the galaxy.

[rexxdjarin]

using commander fox vs captain rex or arc trooper fives as either ends of a spectrum of

What happens to soldiers in the system they serve

Where - Arc Trooper Fives is the “leftist?” He was an immensely gifted soldier. A genius. A free thinking, talented leader whose valuable independence lead him to the truth that very, very few others in the entire galaxy ever knew. He discovered the terrible truth about the system he thought he served in, about who he thought he was and he, as a true arc trooper should, jumped into action to make it right. to find justice for the sake of all innocent life in the galaxy. because that is what the republic he served was truly supposed to be. He died for the truth. He died for justice. He was right and he died for it.

Where - Captain Rex is the “loyal just left of center?” He believes in the tenant’s of the system he serves. He’s an absolutely brilliant and steadfast leader. Men who outrank him value his insight and his skill above many others in the galaxy. He was a pillar of the grand army of the republic. He was everything a solider and a captain should be. He was loyal to his core. And yet …the deeper he got, the more hard learned truths he discovered, the harder and harder it was to maintain the loyal image he wanted to be. The system was set up to fail. It was set up to fail him. It was set up to fail the tenants of justice he propped up and held so dear. He survives by breaking from the system he swore to protect. It was the only way. He continued to move left and to rebel to hopefully bring back the justice and republic he fought for. The one the innocent people of the galaxy, including himself and his brothers, deserved.

And finally

Where - Commander Fox is the “right?” kinda ? He wholeheartedly believed in the system he served. And unfortunately blindly followed it, even if it harmed him. He didn’t want to believe that what he was created for wasn’t the justice he was told he was enacting. That he was being used. As long as he was loyal, as long as he did what his leaders told him then he was fulfilling his duty. But he obeyed too much. He, unknowingly did the bidding of an evil dictator because he did not seek to question his orders. Until it was too late. Until he was forced to forsake his brothers, his republic and everything he ever held dear. His loyal to a fault leadership wound up hurting him in the end and his fate was the same as all his brothers - a means to an end of violence, ultimate control and obsolescence no human being deserves.

Fives was willing to put his own life at risk to expose the truth to save the galaxy. He died for the right thing to do.

Rex gave up the only life he knew, a leader in the republic army, to carry out the tenants of justice against the will of the very system he was once vital to. He learned his lessons the hard way but ultimately rebelled and fought for the right thing to do.

And poor Fox, and most clones, stayed loyal to the fallen republic, albeit mostly against their will at first, meeting the ultimate bitter end of being decommissioned and cast aside despite all they fought so hard to uphold and with nothing to show for it, if they even survived at all.

They are each very real reflections of how soldiers are treated. Each with their own difficult paths and issues to overcome.

I’m mostly interested in a Commander Fox who learns the hardest way of all. I want to see the Commander Fox who realizes nearly too late that serving under Palpatine, in the Empire, isn’t what he wants. And even though he suffered, even though it’s so so hard, even though he’s been through unimaginable pain and likely committed even worse, his perseverance and commitment to justice and survival of his brothers would be far more inspiring to read and see develop than any other headcanon there could be.

[ghostmistdraws]

Get Him To Swap Our Places

Synopsis: Hunter and Crosshair were able to kill the clone assassin... but they're not prepared for who they find underneath that helmet.

Word Count: 1136

A/N; WARNING ANGST AHEAD!!! I've never post any of my fics on Tumblr, but I figured this might do well here. Anyway, still sobbing from the finale so forgive any spelling errors

Crosshair was barely awake and his head was throbbing for the second time. Every single terrible memory of this place was replaying all over again. He’d gotten his brothers captured, tortured. It should have been him, they should have ran and called for backup. Now they were all going to die, because of his failure.

But, fate had other plans for them. And fate’s name was Omega. She’d come back for him, she’d come back for him again. 

Crosshair's body ached and his head spun. He was seeing double, which definitely didn’t help with his already terrible aim. But he still fought like hell. For his brothers, for his sister.

The Darktroopers were highly skilled, highly trained. Crosshair knew that, he remembered the conditioning process all too well. His hands still trembled whenever he thought about it. But, he clenched his fists tighter around his blaster and pressed on. His shots were a little sloppy and uncoordinated, things that would have got him highly reprimanded when he was a cadet on Kamino. Yet, right now, all he could think about was keeping his family alive.

Crosshair screamed out as he saw Hemlock cuffing Omega and dragging her away. He thought he did, at least, but not a single sound came out of his mouth. A sinking feeling rushed through his body at the thought of losing her all over again. Crosshair knew how skilled she truly was, but he couldn’t stop that jolt of anxiety that ran through his body at the very idea.

But the only thing that filled his veins the moment Omega left his sight was rage. He knew these Darktroopers were not acting of their own accord, but he still was pissed. He was pissed at Hemlock.

Crosshair saw red. He didn’t care what happened to him now, he was going to fight like hell to save his family. If he died, so be it. He blasted, punched, and kicked troopers over and over again. 

But when he was distracted, that clone assassin jumped him. They were both knocked to the floor. Crosshair fought for his life, but the assassin was strong and had him pinned down. 

“Crosshair!” He heard Hunter’s voice and managed to catch his brother’s eye. Hunter picked up the electric javelin that one of the troopers had been wielding and nodded to Crosshair. They immediately understood each other.

Crosshair managed to curl his legs in and kicked the assassin as hard as he could directly in the chest. The assassin skidded backwards, slamming into one of the pillars, and Hunter hurled the spear. It flew through the air and right through the assassin’s heart, spearing him to the pillar.

Hunter offered Crosshair a hand and pulled him back to his feet. Crosshair was breathing heavily and leaned on his brother for support as his legs were still weak. The rage finally simmered out of his system and left him feeling empty and exhausted. His eyes lingered on the dead assassin for a moment.

Despite it all, Crosshair felt this strange kinship with the mysterious clone assassin. They were both forced into roles that they didn’t want, that they didn’t choose. That choice was stripped from them. And now, this clone, this brother, was killed fighting for another corrupt organization, without a single say in the matter.

Crosshair took a quick step towards the assassin, skewered to the pole with a javelin like some kind of animal. Clones deserved better than this, better than being experiments like he was. Crosshair reached up to the assassin’s helmet.

“Be free.” He murmured in a quiet voice, so only they’d hear him.

Then, he removed the helmet.

Nothing could have prepared him for the shock and horror that filled his veins. It was so strong it almost knocked him off his feet. Crosshair’s eyes widened so much it felt like they might pop right out of their sockets. His mouth fell agape. He took a step back that almost made his knees give out on him. His mind reeled.

This had to be some kind of sick joke.

Tech.

Why did this bastard have his brother’s face? He couldn’t be. Tech had died on Eriadu, right? That’s what Omega had told him, that’s what she said had happened. Plan 99. But, it was Hemlock who’d given them his goggles. If Hemlock found Tech…

Oh god, no…

Crosshair wanted to throw up. His hands trembled without ceasing. He took a few unsteady steps backwards, running right into Hunter. He also was stood frozen in complete shock and horror. His eyes trailed to his own hand, then back to Tech.

Hunter couldn’t believe what he’d done. He knew that time was short, he had to get to Omega, but he couldn’t bring his feet to move. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the body of his dead brother. His heart felt like it had been ripped straight out of his chest.

Hunter killed his little brother.

He’d done it for a second time. He couldn’t save Tech, again. The sight of his little brother with such a lifeless and cold expression on his once soft face made his chest tighten. His warm brown eyes, once full of such intelligence and curiosity for the universe, were without color or life. Hemlock had done this. He’d turned Hunter’s brother into some mindless killing machine who’d follow orders without question or remorse.

Hunter felt bile rising in his throat at the realization. The realization of what his brother had become. Tech wasn’t allowed to rest in peace. His final action should have been his sacrifice, his selfless choice to save the rest of them. But that choice had been stripped of him.

By Hemlock.

Hunter knew he didn’t have time for a proper goodbye. They’d come back for Tech, give him the proper burial on Pabu that he deserved. They’d finally let him rest, finally let him stop fighting.

But, right now, they had to save Omega. Hemlock couldn’t be allowed to do this again. Not to one of Hunter’s family. He’d die before he’d let it happen. Hunter approached Tech’s body and gently pressed his forehead to his brother’s. Hunter’s eyes gently closed, a single tear escaping his eyes and rolling down his cheek.

Tech’s skin was cold and clammy, but Hunter didn’t care. He remembered the time when his brother was full of light and life. When he’d eagerly explain a new concept that they’d discovered, or gush to Hunter about a new project. When they’d used to do this after a long fight.

Because that was the Tech that deserved to be remembered. And he would. As long as Hunter lived, as long as any of them lived, Tech would never truly die. He’d live on in their memories and in their hearts.

[pyromaniac4198]

puppets

i had the idea for a single scene from a fic but couldn't think of what else would be in such a fic so i decided to put it to tumblr. if you want to write the fic just send me the link

TW: clone abuse, mind manipulation, Palpatine being a sleemo.

“CC-1010, execute orders 13 and 14,” the chancellor commanded, before pointing to a corner between two bronze statues. “And then kneel in that circle, drawn on the floor.” Palpatine smiled, reveling in the despair of the clone trooper as his body moved against his will to turn off his helmet cam and kneel in the rune circle.

“Supreme Chancellor, sir,” the intercom on Palpatine’s desk buzzed, “knight Skywalker is here to visit you.”

“Send him in.” Immediately after Palpatine spoke, the blond jedi strode through the door. When he saw Fox, kneeling in the corner, his eyes dimmed and glazed until he turned away.

“Chancellor! It’s so good to see you again, I’ve been on campaign for months. How have you been since I left?” At Palpatine’s gesture, Anakin sat down on the low, black bench across from the mahogany desk. “Has the senate been giving you trouble again?”

“They have,” Palpatine started, picking up a large square stamp out of a pad soaked in Fox’s blood and hiding it in his large sleeve. “But I’m feeling much better, now that I’ve seen you again.”

“Thank you, sir,” Anakin started to grin, “but really h-“ as the jedi’s smile pressed his eyes shut, Palpatine struck, pressing the stamp to Anakin’s forehead where it imprinted bloody runes. Immediately, the boy’s face slackened, his eyes opening back up but appearing more purple than blue and entirely vacant. Palpatine gestured as if pulling something, and an image like a 3-dimensional map appeared, except in white and red instead of blue.

“Do you see this, clone?” he said, pointing to the lowest level of the structure, which was a pyramid of increasingly small pavilions held up by Nubian-style columns. “Do you see how this lower level has columns that have been Darkened?” He pulled his hand through the projection, and a red thread followed his fingers.

“These are the pillars of his sanity. Beautiful, aren’t they?” He tied the string around one of the white columns. “It is such a shame that I have to Darken them one at a time, or his mind will automatically purge the Dark, but it does give me more options.”

He laughed.

“Soon enough, there will be enough Darkened pillars that his sanity will crumble, and he’ll have just as much control over himself as you do, when your control chip is activated. This slow movement gives me time to decide whether I want him to be too delirious to disobey, or for him to truly believe that everything I say must be perfectly true. Either way, within the year he will be obeying so well that I can order him to kill all the younglings in the jedi temple and he won’t even consider not doing so. Wont it be glorious?” He turned back to fox, grabbing his chin and wrenching his head up painfully. “Tell me it will be glorious, commander.”

“It will be glorious, your Excellency.” Fox felt like pukeing, as his body spoke the words without his consent. the Sith smiled and turned back around.

“My masterpiece is almost complete.” He banished the image, putting his grandfatherly façade back on. “In just over a year, now, this republic will become my Empire.” He used the Force to clean off the general’s forehead.

“-ow’ve you been?” Anakin continued on with his sentence, not noticing that anything happened. Palpatine smiled and gave a grandfatherly laugh, offering to order food for them both.

An hour later, the food eaten and the young knight sent away, the chancellor turned to fox one last time.

“Perhaps I will pay a visit to Senator Amidala today, and use the Force to make her more … fertile … than she naturally would be. After all, my soon-to-be apprentice is so family oriented, his wife entering a delicate state may speed his Fall. My empire may come in as little as 8 months, instead of 14.” the Nubian man sat at his desk. “What do you think, clone?”

“Whatever your excellency decides is best, your excellence.”

“Good. Stand, CC-1010. Wash that circle off of my floor.”

As Fox’s body moved, he ruminated. This wasn’t the first time he had seen his excellency do force osik, of course, as Darth Sidious loved to gloat, but this was a low that Fox hadn’t yet seen. The future the chancellor spoke of was horrific, and fox wished it were possible to kill him to avert it. At least fox would have control over his own thoughts, even if not his body. It was a cold comfort, but it seemed General Skywalker wouldn’t even have that.

Fox strode out of the chancellor’s office wishing that sometime soon the chancellor would forget to call order 14 so he could talk about what happened when the chancellor required his presence.

[photogirl894]

"Sun and Rain Part 2: Age of the Empire"

Chapter 38

"Jump"

A "Bad Batch" fanfic!

Pairing: Hunter x fem OC, Echo (more best friend pairing)

A/N: Today might be my birthday, but here is a gift to all of my lovely readers!! 🥰 Enjoy!!

Taglist: @the-sad-batch , @nimata-beroya , @intrepidmare , @legolkenxbi , @tech-aficionado ,

@ladykatakuri , @d1n0-dan , @sammi9498 , @darthzero22 , @scarlettrose9901 ,

@thebadbatchscyare , @chxpsi , @ilikemymendarkandfictional , @4pplecider , @locitapurplepink ,

@l-lend , @nekotaetae , @eternalwaffle , @merkitty49 , @avathebestx ,

@idoubleswearimawriter , @techs-stitches , @fantasyproductions , @totallyunidentified , @dreamsandrosies

《 Chapter 37

》 Chapter 39

All parts (Part 2) (Part 1)

Explanation: Now with Rex's friend, Gregor, liberated from his captivity, Kimber, Hunter, Echo and Tech must escape the Imperial base on Daro.

The chase was not letting up as the Bad Batch and Gregor continued to run through the Imperial base with several troopers on their tail firing at them. Fortunately, the Imperials’ aim wasn't as great as their predecessors, so it was easy for the Clones and Kimber to dodge the shots. They all ducked behind pillars on either side of the hallway for cover, jumping out to fire at the enemy. Tech threw another smoke bomb to Hunter, who set it off and tossed it at the Imperials, encasing them once again in smoke. Once the smoke surrounded them, the Clones were able to stun most of the other troopers, but there were still more soldiers coming. At Hunter's unspoken command, they continued down the corridor.

“Hurry!” Kimber cried as they ran.

Tech, Gregor and Kimber were at the front and as they came around a corner, they were surprised by a commando in white and yellow armor suddenly appearing in front of them. Two shots rang out and made contact with Gregor's chest.

“Gregor!” Kimber exclaimed in shock.

The commando was quick to try and shoot at Tech, but Tech easily avoided his shot and fired a stun blast that the commando dodged. As he dodged, he moved forward and shoved Tech to the ground. With an angry cry, Kimber leapt forward and shoved him back a couple steps with her shoulder. Then she attempted to throw a kick at him, but he ducked under her leg, moving behind her, and he proceeded to shove her, as well, right into Tech, the two of them colliding and hitting the floor. Then both Hunter and Echo started shooting stun blasts at this commando. Kimber watched in astonishment as, after two stun blasts, the trooper was still standing. It took three more stun shots from Hunter to finally knock him unconscious.

“Are you okay?” Kimber asked Tech.

“It's fortunate for me that you are not very heavy,” he replied, standing up.

Hunter and Echo carefully pulled Gregor to his feet and Tech helped Kimber up, but the chase was still not over as more shots came their way from the other end of the hall. Hunter and Echo led Gregor away while Kimber and Tech covered them and fired at the enemy as they ran. There was a control room at the end of the hallway that they quickly ducked into. Once the doors were shut, Tech shot the controls on the wall to ensure the Imperials couldn't get through.

While Echo started going through the computer system in front of them, Kimber holstered her blasters, approached Gregor, who was clutching at his blaster wound in his chest, and asked, “Are you all right, Gregor?”

“How bad?” Hunter added, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Gregor let out a nonchalant chuckle and said, “Ha! Don't worry about me. This is nothing. I got blown up once and survived. I can survive this.”

Hearing that, Kimber didn't fail to notice Echo perk up at hearing what he said and she didn't forget either that Echo had also survived an explosion before.

Then Echo informed them, looking at the computer screen, “They have all the access points to the central ring blocked off.”

“Maybe we really do need to just blast our way out,” Kimber suggested.

Then Tech pointed up above the computers to a grate in the wall. “There. Those pipes are reactor conduits.”

“And?” Hunter asked.

“Well, they should lead to the main reactor's external exhaust port. That is our path to the outside,” Tech explained.

“Outside? You mean halfway up the mountain?” Kimber questioned him, taken aback, as he continued tapping things out on his datapad.

Then Gregor stepped forward, adding, “We can't survive that jump.”

Putting his datapad away, Tech responded, “No, but we would be able to signal our ship.”

Then he took out a small thermal detonator, activated it and threw it with ease up to the grate. Seconds later, it went off and the destroyed grate clattered to the floor. Echo gave Hunter a lift first up to the opening and then Tech was next. After him, Echo helped Kimber get up to the open grate.

She crawled in and then peered back over the edge, offering out her hand to Gregor. As he placed his foot in Echo's hand and Echo carefully pushed him up, Gregor reached up and took her hand, grunting in pain as he got pulled up.

“Easy does it, Captain,” she said as he pulled him in.

As he got in and started crawling through the pipe, she reached back down for Echo. He hopped up and grasped her wrist, pushing up off the computer desk with his foot to give her some help in pulling him up. Once he was inside, he gave her a thankful nod and they both crawled through the pipe after the others. Once they got through into the exhaust port and could stand, Echo and Kimber got on either side of Gregor and put his arms over their shoulders to help him walk.

While, up ahead, Hunter commed Wrecker and Omega for a pickup, Echo asked Gregor, “How did you even end up in this place?”

Through heavy breaths, Gregor answered, “I was sent here with other commandos….” He took a second to cough and continued, “and quickly realized I wanted out.”

“I don't blame you. You made the right choice,” Kimber assured him.

Gregor then said with a cocky grin, “Yeah. It turns out the Empire doesn't take too kindly to desertion.” Then he chuckled good-naturedly.

“Yeah, no kidding,” said Echo.

“Well, don't you worry. We'll get you out of here and you won't have to worry about the Empire anymore,” said Kimber.

After another groan, Gregor said back, “I appreciate you guys helping me.”

“It's what we do,” Kimber replied gladly.

Up ahead, Hunter and Tech had halted just outside where the reactor port ended. When Echo, Kimber and Gregor caught up, they stopped and realized that it was a sheer drop directly in front of them down the mountain and into the forest below.

Gregor released a nervous cry and said through a chuckle, “Glad we're not going that way.”

“Yeah, that…is not ideal,” Kimber commented aloud, peeking over the edge.

“That is my line,” Tech said in reply.

Right then, over the comms, they heard Omega state they were on approach just as the Marauder came into view in the distance. Tech let her know that they all saw them as they waited. However, there was then the sound of blaster fire behind them and shots whizzed past their heads. They realized more troopers had followed them up into the reactor port. Gregor, Echo and Tech ducked for cover on one side while Hunter and Kimber positioned themselves on the other.

“Stay close to me,” Hunter told Kimber as he fired back at the Imperials.

Dropping to a knee so she could fire around him, she replied, “No need to tell me twice.” Then she started firing blasts, as well, at the incoming soldiers around the corner.

Not long later, the Marauder pulled up beside the ledge. Tech jumped out in the open, shooting at the soldiers, and then swiftly moved out of the way as Wrecker, now in the open doorway of the ship, started firing off shots--not stun blasts--at the Imperials to clear the way, taking out a couple of the troopers. He told Omega, who was clearly piloting the ship, to move closer and kept firing. As the ship inched closer, Wrecker called for them to get inside. Tech was the first to jump on and then Gregor followed. Unfortunately, though, before anyone else could get on the ship, a squad of Imperial fighter ships came flying from around the other side of the mountain and began firing at the Marauder, which caused the ship to retreat in order to lead the Imperial ships away.

Kimber looked back just in time to see a commando running in their direction and cried, “Look out!”

Seeing Echo was right in the commando's line of sight, Hunter pushed him out of the way just as the commando started firing. Then the commando turned his sights onto Hunter, grabbing his wrist and making him drop his blaster. Hunter in turn pushed the commando’s arm with the blaster rifle away, kneed him in the stomach and pulled the blaster rifle out of his hands, shoving him towards Echo. Echo grabbed the commando and held him in a headlock, which he desperately tried to get out of. After a brief struggle, the commando threw his head back into Echo's helmet, causing him to let go, and the commando stumbled forward. However, the other troopers back in the tunnel didn't cease firing and shot the commando right over the edge, where he fell with a pained cry.

“Shooting their own men…Imperials really aren't the smartest,” Kimber stated.

“You can say that again,” responded Echo as he moved back against the wall.

The three of them continued to hold off the Imperial troopers while they waited for the Marauder to return. The enemy wasn't letting up and the most they could do was just keep avoiding the incoming shots.

“We're coming back around. Be ready!” they all then heard Tech inform them on the comms.

Within seconds, the ship pulled up alongside the cliff and Omega appeared in the doorway, calling to them to jump. Hunter signaled for Echo and Kimber to go first while he covered them. Echo jumped onto the stairs and then turned back, extending his hand to Kimber. Just before she was about to jump, she saw the Empire's fighters coming back. Quickly, she leapt forward, catching Echo's hand and landing on the ramp just as the ship's started firing on the Marauder. The ship suddenly lurched to the side and began going down and Kimber stumbled a little. She was about to yell out to Tech to wait because they were leaving Hunter, but when she looked up, Hunter was leaping off the edge down to the ramp. She watched him carefully, ready to pull him inside before the Marauder took off.

Hunter landed on the ramp…but his feet only caught the edge of the last step, which caused him to slip. Kimber jumped forward to catch him, but was too late as, to her horror, Hunter fell over the edge.

“Hunter!” both Kimber and Omega cried out.

Seeing her love falling towards the ground, farther away from her, Kimber's body suddenly reacted on its own and, with Hunter being the only thought in her mind...she jumped from the ship.

“Kimber, no!” Echo shouted, but she was already gone. He pulled Omega inside and closed the ramp as the ship took off.

Omega then yelled up to Tech in a panic, “We need to go back!”

“What happened?” Tech called back.

“Hunter fell and Kimber jumped after him!” Echo cried.

“She what?!” Wrecker called out.

Now plummeting towards the ground, Kimber scanned the area for Hunter as fast as she could. She spotted him a few yards away to her left, so if she made it to the ground all right, she knew which way to go. Now, the problem was not actually dying on the way down. She hadn't considered that until after she'd jumped. In the moment, she just acted without thinking, her only thoughts being she had to save Hunter. She couldn't leave him. Especially not when she'd promised she'd never leave him again ever.

The trees were getting closer and she braced for impact on the branches. She roughly hit a couple that started to slow her fall, but then she landed on a steep rocky slope on the side of the mountain. Hoping to halt her fall as she slid down, she grabbed a hook from her belt and attempted to latch it onto the edge, but the ground was too loose and the hook fell right off as she continued to fall down the mountainside. She managed to grab another ledge for a moment, stopping her, but then her hand slipped and she kept going, not as fast this time as she had been seconds before. She looked down and saw she was speedily approaching the ground and remembered to keep her knees bent so they wouldn't break upon impact. She hit the ground, a wave of pain shooting up her legs as she crumpled to the ground and rolled a bit down the hill she landed on. Once she stopped, she stayed on the ground for a second, a pained groan escaping her as she mentally assessed the damage. Nothing felt broken or sprained; a little bit of stinging here and there from the branches, but her body mostly felt sore from the impacts she'd suffered. That hadn't been the smartest move, but she'd somehow survived and that was what mattered.

Then she heard over her helmet comm Tech's voice saying urgently, “Multiple system failures! We cannot take many more hits!”

Getting up to her feet, Kimber could barely see the Marauder through the tops of the trees, still being chased by the Imperial ships. There was a cloud of smoke coming from one of its back engines. She knew that if the ship got hit again, then it would surely go down and they would all be in trouble. She had to find Hunter fast, so she started running in the direction she'd seen him fall.

She'd only gotten a few yards when, to her immense relief, she heard Hunter's voice on the comm, “Get the ship out of here. I'll find another way back.” He had survived the fall, too, which already made her feel more at ease.

“Negative. The odds of escape are not in your favor,” Tech refused.

As Kimber continued to run, she heard Hunter emphasize, “Go, Tech! That's an order!”

She couldn't imagine the pressure Tech had to be under at the moment, but she knew what Hunter was doing was right. He had to keep the squad safe, which meant telling them to leave him as well as her behind, but she got the feeling he didn't know she was down here with him. He certainly wasn't going to be happy when he found out; she knew that for certain.

Activating her comm, she cried into it, “Do as he says!”

She looked up again and saw the thrusters on the Marauder activate and it shot across the sky, now going faster than the Imperials. It looked as though Tech was obeying Hunter's order and for that, she was glad. She'd rather the others leave them behind than get shot down trying to rescue them.

Then she heard Omega's panicked voice, calling out desperately over the comms, “Hunter, tell them to come back! Order them to come back!”

“I'm sorry, kid. I can't do that,” Hunter's voice replied.

As she heard his voice on the comm, she thought she could also hear it nearby and picked up the pace through the forest. She could hear distant chatter and soon saw Hunter standing on top of a small hill. Though, as she came through the trees, she was shocked to see three gunships along with a big squadron of Imperial soldiers all standing in front of him with their weapons aimed at him. He stood there, defenseless, as they slowly approached him. Just as she thought to retreat and make a plan, a twig snapped under her foot and she lightly gasped. She'd been compromised.

A few of the soldiers near the back heard the noise and whipped around in her direction.

“There's another one!” one of them called out, turning his weapon towards her.

Hunter looked as two soldiers grabbed him and his heart sank at seeing Kimber a few feet away, her hands up in surrender as the troopers walked up to detain her, as well. Why was she there? She was supposed to be on the Marauder, leaving the planet safely with the others and away from danger. Now, she was being taken into Imperial custody, same as him. To his even greater dismay, they were both being taken back inside the base, but on separate gunships, which only escalated his anxiety. If anything happened to her and he couldn't protect her…he would never be able to live with that failure.

On the other ship, Kimber was feeling the same way. She had no way of knowing what the Imperials were doing to Hunter. Hopefully, they would be somewhat honorable and take him back to the base without hurting him. If she later learned they had harmed him…then the entire military base on Daro would surely know her fury.

Back inside the base, Kimber was quickly processed and her weapons and communication devices confiscated. The soldiers weren't exactly gentle about all of it, either.

“Where is my companion?” she demanded of the commando that was with her.

“He's being processed and put into holding, just as you will be,” the commando answered.

“I want to see him,” she said.

He turned to face her. “Oh, you'll see him. You'll both be locked up together until one of the Commanders arrives,” he replied almost condescendingly. Then he gave her a shove forward in the back and they moved along.

She was led through the base and into the detention level, where they had been not long before. She could see the glow of a ray shield just ahead, which had to mean Hunter was already in the cell. They reached the cell and sure enough, she could see Hunter sitting on the bench inside, his helmet beside him, and he jumped up to his feet upon seeing her. He seemed unharmed, which made her feel a little calmer, at least. The commando deactivated the ray shield and roughly shoved her into the cell, making her stagger forward, and he brought the shield back up. Once she was inside, she threw off her helmet and found herself immediately enveloped in Hunter's arms.

“Kimber, you're okay,” he gasped with relief in her ear, running his hand over her hair and holding her close.

Wrapping her arms around him in return, she replied, “I'm so glad you are, too.”

Then he pulled back and demanded, calmly yet still frantically, “Sweetheart, what happened? Why are you here? Why didn't you leave with the others? You should be with them.”

“And leave you behind? Never!” Kimber answered.

“I gave you an order,” he refuted.

In return, she stated, “You gave Tech an order…and by that time, I was already on the ground.”

“What happened?” he asked again through a frustrated sigh.

Sheepishly, she rubbed the back of her neck, averting her eyes for a moment, and simply said, “I…jumped.”

When she looked back at him, he was staring blankly at her and blinked a couple times. “You…did…what?”

Grinning nervously, she explained, “After you fell, I just…I jumped after you.”

His eyebrows rose up and he gave her a completely flabbergasted look. “You jumped down a mountain?!”

She just tried cracking a half-grin and casually shrugged like that notion was no big deal.

Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose and turned away. He swore he could feel a headache beginning to form. “I'm an enhanced Clone, I can survive more things than most. That fall could have killed you, Kimber!”

“I knew what I was doing!” she snapped back, even though she knew that wasn't really true.

He gave her an incredulous look. “I don't need my heightened senses to know that you're lying. What were you thinking?”

“I thought I was going to lose you again!” she blurted out. He appeared taken aback and she kept going, “You almost died in front of me once before and I couldn't let that happen...not again. I also made you a promise back on Saleucami; I promised that I would never leave you again and I wasn't about to this time.”

Taking her gently by the shoulders, he said to her, “Your safety is my priority. You wouldn't be leaving me in that way. Your promise has nothing to do with this.”

“Yes, it does, Hunter. I wasn't going to let you get captured and endure this alone.” She reached up and grasped his arms that still held her shoulders, looking intently into his brown eyes. “I am yours and you are mine. Whatever we do, we do together. If you're getting captured by the Empire, then so am I.”

Hunter sighed and shook his head. “You're incredibly reckless…you know that?”

“Isn't that why you love me?” she replied.

He glanced back at her and he couldn't suppress a small smile, remembering he'd asked the same question of her before getting to Daro. “Among other reasons,” he answered. Despite his worry for her being there and almost potentially getting hurt from the fall, he knew deep down that he'd always been attracted to her recklessness. It was part of what made her a perfect fit in his squad and a perfect match for him.

He stepped forward and brought his forehead to hers, one of his hands tenderly tracing her cheek. “Despite everything…I am glad you're with me, my love,” he said softly.

“I would rather be in a cell with you than worrying myself to death over you elsewhere,” she replied, “which, sadly, I'm sure is what Omega is doing right now.”

Hunter let go of her shoulders and stepped back, releasing a heavy breath as he did so. “I know. I feel guilty worrying her…but I had no choice,” he said, his face downtrodden.

Seeing the guilt in his expression, Kimber took his hand in hers. “You made the right call, darling. The squad's safety is important, especially Omega's. If they had come back around for us, they would've surely been shot down and things would be much worse for all of us.”

“You're right, I know,” he said, sitting down on the bench.

“Naturally, she'll be scared for us, but I know the lads will take care of her and they'll find a way to save us,” she reassured him, taking her place beside him. “Although, that now begs the question: what do we do? Do we even try to escape…or do we surrender ourselves to whatever the Empire has in store for us?”

“I…I don't know,” he said with uncertainty.

They sat in silence for a moment, both of them pondering on their current predicament. Was there even a way that they could get out? The two of them alone against tons of Imperial soldiers wasn't really an ideal situation.

As she kept thinking, Kimber remembered something from before that now concerned her: what the commando had said to her.

“You'll both be locked up together until one of the Commanders arrives.”

“Hunter…one of the commandos said they were waiting for a Commander to get here,” she stated, turning back to him. A shaky breath left her as she then went on to ask, “What if…what if they send Crosshair?”

His gaze wandered down to the floor and there was a knowing look in his eyes. “To be honest…I've thought about that, too,” he admitted.

Burying her face in her hands, she said, “I don't even know what to expect if he comes for us. He's tried to kill us before and yet, last time….” She faltered as she recalled her last meeting with Crosshair back on Ryloth and how different he had seemed from before; how he'd been more reserved and less hostile and didn't want to fight her.

“What about last time?” Hunter questioned. “You told us he tried to convince you to join the Empire again.”

“He did…but he seemed different from when we last saw him on Bracca,” she told him.

“How?” he asked.

Her hands wrung together anxiously just thinking about it. “He didn't want to fight me. He just wanted to talk, which wasn't what he was like on Bracca. I didn't…I didn't want to believe him, but when I looked into his eyes...he looked miserable, like he was in pain.” She sighed, running her hands over her face. “I don't know what to think. I know he still has the inhibitor chip and it's still not entirely his fault, but--”

“Hey, hey…don't think about that right now,” said Hunter, bringing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.

However, she couldn't put it out of her mind. “I'm almost certain it's him that's coming. Why would they send anyone else for us?”

“If he does come, then we'll handle it. We'll try to get through to him…together,” he said to ease her worry.

Kimber nestled closer to Hunter, laying her head in the crook of his neck. She still was concerned about Crosshair potentially coming for them, but she at least felt better about it having Hunter there with her. Whatever was going to happen, they'd get through it together just like they always did. With him at her side, she could get through anything.

Many hours passed and both Hunter and Kimber sat together in their cell just letting the time pass. Until at one point, Kimber took notice of Hunter's head perking up like he'd heard something and he was looking towards the entryway. She knew he had sensed something and directed her attention to the entrance, as well. Sure enough, a few seconds later, someone appeared on the other side of the ray shield…and it was just the person they suspected.

“We figured you'd show up,” Hunter greeted him a bit disdainfully.

Crosshair deactivated the ray shield and then removed his helmet, showing his face to them. “I was hoping for the whole squad...but you'll do,” he responded darkly, looking between the two of them. Then he stepped inside the cell, causing Hunter to stand and start inching his arm protectively in front of Kimber. “Where are the others?” Crosshair then asked.

“Far away from here,” Kimber answered, getting up to her feet herself. “What do you want with us?”

“You already know the answer,” Crosshair replied.

That response made Kimber clench her teeth and her hands curled up tightly at her sides. Surely, that meant he intended to kill them.

Just then, the other members of his Imperial squad came into the doorway. Two of them came in with cuffs and placed them on Hunter and Kimber's wrists.

“Crosshair, don't do this,” Kimber tried to plead.

“You brought this on yourself,” he spat back. “Now, you're both coming with me.” With that, he put his helmet back on and walked outside the cell, the rest of his squad following him.

The two that put Hunter and Kimber in cuffs forcefully pushed them forward and Kimber cast a glare at them as she walked. She and Hunter then exchanged nervous glances, not knowing what the future now held in store for them.

All they could do was hope they'd either find a way out of this themselves or that their squad would find a way to save them.

[awkward-tension-art]

Puppet on a String Chp.8 (Fives x Reader)

Chapter 7. Chapter 9.

Permission to Shoot

CW: Fives x Reader, Reader is a medical practitioner, angst, swearing, Death mention, Running from authorities, Mentions of dead characters, Inhibitor chip arc, Nala Se being cruel, Shaak Ti trying her best, lying, surgery, Fives stuns reader but its consensual, AZ-3 being a cutie

tag list (tyyyy): @notgonnaedit @spicydonut25 @amazonian-bae @bimboshaggy @tentakelspektakel

“Help! The fugitive is here!” 

Your faux panic worked like a charm. The guard outside your door rushed inside to your aid. 

You felt bad when Fives knocked him out. 

“Sorry, brother.” He mumbled, stripping the clone of his armor. Once he was covered in the pure white plastoid, he nodded to you, “We need to get the tumor analyzed.” 

You nodded, keeping the sample in your protective grip. Apparently Fives had noticed the cases being switched in the quarantine room after Tup’s death. However, what startled you was the fact that instead of a physical, the ARC trooper was going to be reconditioned and have his mind wiped. That's why he had attacked the guards and ran. To grab the tumor and save himself. 

There were only two individuals who could order a clone's mind to be wiped. Shaak Ti and Nala Se. 

Once your lover was properly covered, you spoke up, “We need to get to the Genetic Records Hall.”

“I agree. That will be the only way to compare genetic data.” AZ-3 hovered a circle around you. The little robot was endearing, and you couldn’t help but be glad that Fives had it. 

“Come on.” You motioned for Fives to go first. 

He readied the rifle in his hands and straightened his back. With a clearing of his throat, he spoke with a gruff voice, “Let’s go, prisoner.” The door opened with the press of a button.

You snorted, trying to repress your smile, “Follow me.” Your steps went out to the bright, white halls of Kamino. In the back of your head you thanked Dr.Mila’s ghost for putting you on the Ethics committee all that time ago. Because of her, you walking the labs and pathways wasn’t a strange sight. You’ve been here before. You were known as a fellow doctor.

Still, you were tense. If you ran into Shaak Ti, your cover would be blown. 

You tried not to think about that now. You had to focus. 

Luckily, you three managed to get to the Genetics Record Hall. The large doors opened revealing computers, consoles and tall pillars of pure information. Among them were other Kaminoan scientists, researching, walking around or speaking to their fellows. 

You paid them no mind, leading Fives to one of the massive data storage pillars, “Here, this is a database, It contains data on the original DNA of every clone. And Jango Fett’s DNA.” Your fingers worked fast as you typed rapidly, looking up Jango Fett’s genotype. 

As you typed, you brought up the subject you needed. The entire genetic data of Jango Fett, the base DNA for all clones. His image appeared on the screen, and you placed the tumor down on the console, “If any tumor like this has been noted before, it will be in this database.” You explained quietly.

The computer ran through countless images in a blink of an eye. However, after a brief moment, a large, red X approached on the screen.

What…?

“Mesh’la?” Fives whispered, noticing your bewilderment. 

“Nothing,” You responded, “The sample doesn't match anything found in the Jango Fett genotype.” Your fingers continued to type, running through the database again. Maybe you made a mistake…

After another run through of the data, the same X appeared. You quickly roamed through the data, “Fives…” Your voice was quiet, “The tumor…It’s not entirely organic,” You turned to face him, “it's foreign to the body.”

“The Doctors interpretation of the results is correct,” AZ-3 confirmed your results, “Most likely, this tumor was implanted inside your friend.” 

“An implant?” Fives sounded shocked, looking between the screen, you and AZ-3, “You mean this isn't an accident? Someone did this to Tup?” to his surprise, he pulled his helmet and pointed his rifle at the console.

“Precisely.” AZ-3 responded. 

You turned back to the database, “Let me see if I can find anything else….” You mumbled, “See what other information I can get.” As you searched through the computer, you hadn’t noticed that the other scientists around you began to slowly leave the Genetics Record Hall. 

The ARC trooper, however, did notice. 

“Is there another way out of here, besides the door we came in?” You heard him ask AZ-3 quietly. You paused in your research, turning to look at your lover in confusion. 

“Yes, there are emergency access hatches in every major room in case of flooding.” 

“Good.” Fives mumbled, “Let’s get moving.”

“Wait.” you grabbed his wrist, “Hold me hostage, then stun me when the General gets here.” 

“Mesh’la…what?”

“If I act like you took me hostage, I might have more freedom over the compound.” you explained, “Shaak Ti might trust me more. But we’ll have to split up…” 

He shook his head, “No, it’s too dangerous. What if something happens? We know Nala Se is willing to get her hands dirty.” 

“I have a communications device.” AZ-3 piped up, raising a small metal hand with the comlink in his grip, “In the case of certain emergencies, I can transmit signals and messages.” He handed you the small device. 

After a few moments Fives sighed and nodded, “It’s a good plan. But I don’t want to hurt you.” 

You pecked his cheek, “It’ll be fine. You have my permission to make it look convincing.” 

The clone put his helmet back on and nudged you with his rifle, “Keep going, I’ll let you know right before I…uh…pull the trigger.” He hesitated and it twisted your heart slightly. Oh, he really didn’t want to hurt you.

You handed the tumor to AZ-3 and not a moment too soon the large metal doors to the Genetic Records Hall opened. Shaak Ti, along with her officer, some guards and Nala Se arrived.

“There!” the Kaminoan pointed to the three of you. 

Fives grabbed you and twirled around, holding you tightly against him. The barrel of the rifle was to your temple. Despite that, you didn’t fear him.

“Stop right there!” The officer demanded, aiming his own gun at your lover. However, none of them shot out of fear of hitting you.

“Sorry, mesh’la.” Fives whispered before shoving you forward. You hit the ground rather hard, and heard the echoes of blasters. He must have shot you, because the next thing you knew, Shaak Ti was kneeling down beside you. Nala Se, behind her.

The headache was killer and with a groan, you sat up. You weren’t on the cold floor, instead you had woken up on an examination bed.

“Easy Doctor, you had been stunned,” The Jedi beside you helped you up, “What is the last thing you remember?”

“Ugh...I got shot in the Genetic Records Hall…” You rubbed your face in your hands and looked around. You were in another examination room. It was plain, with gray walls dotted with screens and cabinets. Standard for the monotony of Kamino. 

“Why would Fives shoot you?” She asked kindly, being rather patient with you. 

“I…was a hostage.” You lied, “He’s investigating the tumor…and he needed me to get him into the hall.” your eyes were on Shaak Ti, “I…I was waiting for you to question me when he came through the vents.”

A part of you felt bad for lying. The General was always kind and polite to you, but the situation didn’t call for honesty right now. 

The togruta frowned, “Why would he do such a thing? The two of you are…close.” 

“Far too close,” Nala Se snarked.

Anger flashed through your system but you swallowed, “He’s desperate,” you answered, knowing he most likely looked worse now, “There’s something more going on.” 

“You believe him?” The Jedi asked, looking interested now. 

The Kaminoan behind her stared directly at you. Her large eyes were empty, but you swear you could see barely repressed rage. She opened her mouth to speak, “What could you possibly think is going on?”

“Let's let the Doctor explain,” The Jedi cut her off, “Now, tell me, do you believe him?”

Your nod was silent but honest this time. You looked down at your hands before speaking, “I do believe him.”

The togruta woman was quiet as she stood straight. Her eyes roamed over your form on the bed before she said, “You love him, do you not?”

“I do.” You whispered, looking up at her, “We love each other.” 

“A failure in his design.” Nala Se scoffed, “Clones are meant to be soldiers. This clone that’s causing such a mess is clearly defective.”

“Fives isn’t defective!” you snapped, feeling a surge of emotion, “He’s not! He’s a good soldier who is trying to figure out what happened to his friend!” The grief of Tup was still fresh. Not to mention everyone that you’ve lost because of this damn tumor. 

Tears were blurring your vision. You were losing it. Everything was collapsing on you.

Calm down dammit!

Shaak Ti raised one hand to try and calm the situation, “Nala Se, please leave the room.” 

Luckily the Kaminoan left without another word. Honestly, if you had to suffer through her indifference for one more second, you would have lost it entirely. 

“Now, continue.” the General looked at you. Her lavender gaze was patient.

Fives trusted her. You trusted Fives...and maybe you could get past the manipulation of Nala Se….

You explained everything you thought through your tears. From the 501st surgeon sending the scans out, Dr.Mila’s death, Rako Hardeen’s attack on you all the way to Tup’s breakdown, the total neurological failure and now. By the end of your explanation, you were on the verge of sobbing. Your emotions were haywire. Everything had crashed in on you.

Shaak Ti stood straight, “You believe this tumor…it could be a Separatist plot?” 

“Or Nala Se is scheming something…” You sniffled, “I’m sorry General…I don’t mean to be so emotional…”

“It is natural to feel so deeply after everything that's happened,” She put both her hands on your shoulders, “As a Jedi, I am duty bound to always keep my emotions in check. You aren’t so restricted, cry as much as you need.” The General hummed in thought, raising a hand to her chin, “Dr.Mila would be proud. Your friend, Tup, would be proud.”

You gave her a small, shaky smile. 

She continued, “What you are saying…while it is unlikely, I can not deny the evidence and circumstances presented to me.” Her voice was stern yet collected, “Confirm that this tumor is in every clone. But be quick, if what you are saying is correct, I am not so sure whoever is behind this will not deliberately hide the data. I will keep an eye on Nala Se.”

“Yes, General.” You got to your feet, “And…thank you, for believing me. For believing in Fives.” 

“It is not a matter of belief,” She stepped back, and motioned to the door for you to go, “It is simply the right thing to do.” Once you both were in the halls, Shaak Ti spoke again, “I will try and find ARC trooper Fives. If you find him before anyone else, tell him not to panic.” 

Your heart soared. She believed you. She believed Fives.

Once you were in the hall, you parted ways with the Jedi. Your steps wandered away before you turned to an empty hallway. As soon as no one was around, you quietly used the comlink AZ-3 gave you. 

“Fives?” you whispered, “Fives are you alright?” 

It took a few moments, but AZ-3 spoke up on the other end, “ARC trooper Fives is currently under anesthesia. But he will be awake when the surgery is complete.” 

“S-surgery!?” you nearly yelped, “AZ-3, what surgery!?”

“ARC trooper Fives expressed his desire to find and remove the implanted tumor in his head.”

You swallowed, hands shaking now, “Where are you?”

“Sterile operating room A-3462 South.” 

“Stay there, I’ll be right over to help,” you disconnected the comlink and turned. It was hard not to sprint through the halls, but you managed. The only times you sped up were when you were certain you were alone. 

Luckily, you made it to the surgical room without an incident. Once the door was open, you rushed inside to see AZ-3 shaving off Fives’ hair. 

Your heart broke again. You adored his curls…now they were gone. It was a necessary loss but…

Well, you’d miss his hair. 

“Hello Doctor!” The surgical droid gave a friendly wave of his metal hand, “I was just about to begin.”

“Hello AZ-3,” You immediately got to the rubber gloves and surgical masks, “I love the patient, so please be careful.” 

“My programming allows me to perform any necessary surgery without outside factors affecting my efficiency.” The hovering robot stated bluntly, “What you call love will not change my protocol.” 

Well that made you feel better…

“Right…” Without another word, you became his surgical assistant. AZ-3 did almost all the work. All you really did was keep an eye on Fives’ status as the surgery progressed. Your focus was on his heartbeat and brain wave activity. Thankfully, everything was maintained when the droid finished collecting the tumor. 

“Here you are, Doctor,” He handed you the small rectangle bio-glass. Inside of it was a tumor, just like the one Tup had. Except this one was different. 

Tup’s had become necrotic. Structurally it had been breaking down, and cells were dying much quicker than his brain could handle. But Fives’ looked healthy. Benign. There was no evidence of neuron failure or infection. 

Based on the samples in front of you, it was a sound conclusion that Tup’s brain tumor had a genetic mutation. Somewhere in the DNA of the sample, a base pair was mismatched, or a stop codon had failed. Somewhere, something in the tumor's genotype had broken down, causing Tup’s eventual breakdown as well.

Your breath escaped your lungs once it hit you what this meant. 

If this was caused by a genetic mutation. And every clone had this implanted tumor….

The entire Grand Army of the Republic was at risk.

[noperopesaredope]

Stupid Jedi & Clone OC Concept

I mentioned this in the tags of a different post, but I thought it deserved its own, much more fleshed out post.

Jedi Master Lonsnek Kathiss

Master Kathiss is a wise and friendly slightly older jedi who appears to be some sort of draconic sea serpent, but about the size of a smaller boa constrictor. He is perfectly capable of speaking common and has even created methods of using his lightsaber, but still faces difficulties due to being, well, a snake.

His first introduction to his men was...interesting, to say the least, with may being a bit surprised and caught off guard by his appearance. A lot of the younger ones didn't even realize he was their general at first (most of the shinies don't), and were extremely mortified when they realized he was their boss.

However, Kathiss was patient about it every single time, aware that while they were all strong and determined fighters and not naive to the horrors of war, the clones were a bit sheltered when it came to the greater world and lacked experience/knowledge in multiple areas (one of my favorite headcanons is that the clones never had sex-ed, so they have no idea how any of that works).

He is extremely insightful when it comes to the clones as a whole, seeing their existence and treatment as extremely tragic. While he isn't extremely old, he does tend to see a lot of the clones as being relatively young, especially when the war first starts (after all, even the oldest clones were only developmentally 20 at the beginning).

Thus he tries to be kind to them while still focusing on his job. While he isn't quite like Plo Koon and doesn't get close to that many of his troopers, he has a slightly similar internal attitude, he just doesn't express it too openly.

Kathiss is generally a pretty playful and lighthearted man, which made some of his troopers even more awkward initially, but they eased up to it, and even began joking back. He also has a more unconventional fighting style and strategy, but they've learned to trust him and his weird plans overtime.

The small issue with Kathiss as a leader is that he can be unintentionally cryptic or forget to explain certain things, like if he explains his plan through a reference or quick metaphor, and then forgets to clarify what the heck he is talking about. His troops have overtime realized that when he says something weird, there is a lot more to it, they just need to remind him to elaborate a bit.

Overall, while things were a bit awkward at first, he eventually gained the respect of his men, especially watching him look out for all of them and leading the frontlines with intense gusto and energy. He is a highly respected general, which can be a little bit funny at times, especially when someone meets him without knowing about him beforehand. I honestly might make another Jedi OC who is just one of those little Ghibli fox-squirrels whose men are incredibly loyal to him. It would be so iconic, especially if he can't speak Basic and they all need to quickly learn his language. I'll write the rest down later.

Commander Pillar

First getting his name after managing to hold up a collapsing roof for an entire minute and thus saving the entire group he was with. Many see his name as being very fitting, with him being stable and determined, ready to lift others up and support them, and not breaking down under pressure. However, not many see the slightly awkward and unsure person underneath. Pillar is a strong leader who is good at getting people's respect, but he internally tends to doubt his plans and strategies, second guessing himself frequently.

He also initially felt weird and uncomfortable around his new general, not sure how to react to Kathiss' less humanoid form. He tried his best to remain professional, but felt slightly awkward about it, especially when other commanders asked what his Jedi was like. He was secretly a little embarrassed, but would scold himself for it since that was his superior officer and he shouldn't think those thoughts. His mind and relationship with Kathiss would change and evolve overtime, but it initially started with some one-sided tension.

Gradual Friendship

There were quite a few points where Kathiss honestly could not do something on his own or was too short to get somewhere, and Pillar would eventually ask him if he needed help. So Pillar had to lift up the general multiple times. There was one moment where Kathiss needed to yell at someone for a minute, but after a minute or two of yelling, he got tired of having to look up at them (plus it’s a bit hard to take him serious when he’s not at eye level), and he frustratedly asked Pillar if he could hold Kathiss at eye level. Pillar hesitated before doing so, in which the general proceeded to continue yelling at the person.

Overtime, they got to a point where, if Kathiss needed to talk to another at eye-level, he could ask Pillar to pick him up, to which the commander would do so. It became common enough for them to eventually develop a quick signal.

During one mission, Pillar, Kathiss, and some men needed to navigate an area that required human feet, and Kathiss couldn't slither for this one. So, they solved the problem by having Pillar carry Kathiss on his shoulders, since that’s the best position for him to be held.

They navigated through this place for about 2 hours, and afterwards, they honestly forgot that they didn't need to do it anymore, so Kathiss was on Pillar’s shoulders for almost the entire mission. They only remembered when they got back on the ship and went into a meeting with another Jedi and Commander, and the other Jedi commented on it.

Pillar and Kathiss both looked at each other and have this brief exchange:

“Do you need to be put down, General?”

“No, this is more convenient, honestly. Are you okay with it?”

“I’m comfortable with it.”

“Okay, then.” (Kathiss looks back to the other Jedi) “We’re fine like this.”

They then continued the rest of their day like that, and most of the others only briefly questioned it before deciding to just ignore it. So whenever they were off the field or not in the heat of battle, Kathiss would usually be sitting on Pillar’s shoulders, which was honestly convenient since it’s at eye level and they would be around each other a lot anyway. Everyone got used to it rather quickly, or at least all of their legion did.

They kind of became friends overtime, with Kathiss offering Pillar bits of wisdom and important life lessons, and Pillar becoming incredibly loyal to his general. Kathiss would assure Pillar and prevent him from spiraling, and Pillar would defend Kathiss against any slights or disparaging remarks regarding his appearance and status as a non-humanoid.

The Inhibitor Chip

Commander Pillar managed to get his chip taken out almost completely by accident. During a mission, Pillar, two soldiers, and a medic were all separated from the group due to an ambush splitting everyone up. The ambush involved a large number of bombs being dropped on them in the middle of an evacuated city, causing walls to fall and dividing the group into different areas.

Pillar had a large piece of shrapnel in his skull that managed not to kill him, but was incredibly dangerous nonetheless, and the medic, Steed, needed to take it out as soon as possible. Steed still had some supplies on him, so he and the two other soldiers found a damaged ship with some space for surgery, then conducted it there.

The shrapnel was lodged right near where Pillar’s chip was, so Steed assumed that it was another piece of shrapnel and didn’t take time to observe it or look at it too closely, simply throwing it away with the rest. Miraculously, Pillar survived the surgery, and they were all quickly rescued. Nobody ever really found out or realized Pillar’s chip had been taken out due it never being reported, as again, they thought it was just a bit of shrapnel, and they didn’t even realize there were any chips in the first place.

Order 66

When Order 66 happened, Pillar at first tried to order the troopers to stand down, but they refused, as the chips had already kicked in for most of them. Due to already holding the general, Pillar was able to run with Kathiss on his shoulders. The two of them made a plan to fake their own deaths while hiding from the others in an abandoned building. Pillar had some leftover bombs, so he stripped away his armor (with Kathiss also placing his robes next to it, then planted the bombs and ran out of the building before they detonated, resulting in that portion of the building collapsing on that spot. The mind-controlled troopers found the “remains” and presumed them dead.

Right before the bombs detonated, Pillar (with Kathiss still on his shoulders) managed to sneakily scale the side of a cliff nearby and climb into the woods. They luckily managed to find a ship which had crashed nearby, but was still somehow usable, and quickly fled the planet.

Post Order 66

The duo decided to go to Kathiss’ home planet, since they were unlikely to be discovered there. It was a mostly swamp-like planet and on the outer edges of the galaxy. They were taken in by some old friends Kathiss had made when he visited once, and after eventually learning about what happened to the other Jedi, Kathiss felt forced to leave behind his old life. They both did. So they decided to follow the dreams they had if they weren’t in the Order or the GAR.

Kathiss found a mate, and the pair had kids, while Pillar settled down nearby, becoming a woodworker since the village needed one, and he found woodcarving to be fun. Plus, creating things like homes and tools and furniture and whatnot felt nice to him. Kathiss and his mate soon had a clutch of 5 eggs, two years after Order 66 first occurred. Pillar was basically declared the godfather and vowed to help raise them, since it takes a village to raise a clutch of eggs.

Pillar was nervous about the idea of being involved since he didn’t know what the babies would be like, but he quickly grew to adore them. All of them were extremely happy and at peace. Sadly, half a year after the babies were born, the Empire came knocking. They had found Kathiss, and they killed him while fatally injuring his mate. Pillar had been babysitting the babies, and Kathiss’ mate managed to escape to his house nearby, told him what happened and that he needed to run away with the babies, then died. Pillar listened to her, scooped all the baby serpents up, and escaped using the old ship he and Kathiss came to the planet with.

Pillar, a bit paranoid, decided they needed to flee from planet to planet, and he raised the babies as his own, doing odd jobs and getting them a bigger ship to live in together.

~~~~~~

Might make a follow-up post talking about the snake kids and their clone dad, since I think it would be fun to explore. Definitely want to make some art of Pillar and Kathiss, though.

Hope you like these two and this storyline concept!

[flowerparrish]

[Podfic Link] | fic by @petrifiedforests | Length: 1.5 minutes

Star Wars: Clone Trooper OCs (Hicks/Pillar)

Summary:

In the quiet space before sleep, a clone trooper asks the important questions. Fill for the Clone Fandom Original Character Bingo

Narrated by me & a friend, directed and edited by @kbirbpods, recorded AT FAER ACTUAL WEDDING for @voiceteam Mystery Box's challenge Sense of Direction.

[clonemedickix]

PLEASE tell me about the epic of rexamesh this sounds so fascinating

Oh goodness! My fan fic is more like an epic saga, or a book series. Every chapter is like 10-15k words. It covers the adventures of my OC General Lara Lin and her relationship to the clones. Hope this helps!!

General Lara Lin - a character made of a fusion of LOTR and GOT, the source of the living and cosmic Force, immortal, a warrior goddess created to maintain the Balance in the universe as a whole, not just one galaxy. She primarily rides a dragon into battle, though she also has an old warhorse. She counts her home world as Earth because she was first sent to Middle Earth at the time of her creation and has served ever since. Married Captain Rex, dated Echo, had a small tryst with Fives due to exigent circumstances (and secretly might even love him more than Rex which is like a photo finish type race). She is the leader of Dragon Company, well respected and well believed by the Jedi Council to be the most powerful entity in the universe.

Personality: laid back

Jaded

Dry, witty humor

Enjoys sending prank supply orders to General Windu because the two of them can’t stand each other

Leader, completely loyal to her troopers and the clones as a whole

Beautiful, tall as the clones, long brown curly hair with blonde/silver highlights

Luminous blue eyes that reflect the power that resides within

Excellent fighter with two swords - short and long, quarter staff and dagger, guns and hand to hand

Fiercely independent, intelligent

Deeply loving, possibly to her detriment

OC LT Primer (promoted to Captain following the end of Order 66) - completely loyal first in command to General Lin, over the Dragon Company.

Personality: careful

Discerning

In love with Lara

Fiercely loyal to both his General and his men

Smart, savvy, quick thinking

Steadfast, serves as a pillar to Lara’s life

OC Sgt Boost - 1st SGT of Dragon Company

Personality: a typical Sgt, great with herding people

Rule follower but able to think outside the box

Dry humor

OC Chief Medical Officer Volte - first medical officer of Dragon Company, trained both by the GAR and personally by General Lin to treat just about any type of medical emergency. Learned in the first response of many galaxies including Earth. Becomes a community doctor following the events of Order 66, caring for the men and families of Dragon Company on their clone colony.

Personality: kind, caring

Highly emotionally intelligent

Loyal to his General, becomes one of her best friends.

Savvy medical professional, steadfast

Smart but not arrogant.

Somewhat haunted by the people he couldn’t save, the choices he could have made, the skills he could have used but didn’t.

[kangelane]

No. 26 No one left behind (Whumptober 2022)

Summary: When Kenobi is held captive by Maul and just about to be rescued by the clones, Palpatine executes Order 66.

Prompts: Separated | Rope Burns | “Why did you save me?”

———————————

Kenobi struggled against the rough ropes cutting deep into his wrists. Together with the Force suppressor around his neck, it was more than enough to keep him from getting away from his captor.

He mentally cursed the Jedi Council for separating him and Anakin during such a crucial mission, as this turned out to be. They had demanded how the young Jedi should remain on Coruscant; in lieu trying to spy on the Chancellor, instead of joining his Master on this specific task.

How a simple mission to scout for General Grievous had turned into a confrontation with the vengeful Darth Maul, was still beyond him. The Sith had gotten the jump on him, and he was now held captive on a remote moon in the outskirts of his original destination of Utapau.

Sitting on the dusty floor in some older structure, with his arms tied around a stone pillar, Darth Maul had not been seen for a while. Obi-Wan tried his best to get loose, but the restraints were firm. He sighed, and leaned his pounding head against the cold solid rock, hoping it would ease the pain, but it only gave him further headache.

At least he had been able to activate his comm to Cody, before he was knocked out. So hopefully they had been able to snap up his position sometimes during his discussions with Maul.

Suddenly, as on cue, multiple pair of boots were heard approaching outside, before the door flew open, and five troopers with Cody in the lead entered.

”Ah, Cody. Boy, am I glad to see you. Be vigilant – Maul in somewhere in the near vicinity.”

”Great to see you alive Gener-,” his voice was cut of, as an alternative comm beeped. Cody picked it up from his pocket, and Kenobi felt his neck hair rise, as he took in the miniature holoprojection of Darth Sidious.

The voice was clear, but sounded old, slimy and creaky. ”Commander Cody… Execute Order 66.”

———————————

Read the whole story here:

~ Kangelane_Star Wars 🤓📚📖

[orangez3st]

Zest's Entries for Clone × OC Week 2025 - Masterpost

All of these are fics. Due to progressive prompts: choose clone, then read chronologically. Enjoy!

18 Entries | 4 Pairings | Accum. Word Count: 139.8k

🔞 = nsfw, [X] = link to fic

—Fox

Accum. word count: 27.5k

1: Coruscant's Finest Detective [X]

2: All-Nighter Work High [X]

3: Broken Pillars of Justice [X]

4: The Stars in Your Eyes [X]

(cont. to Coruscant's Bests: Under Pressure)

RELEASED CASE FILE - The Corrie Butcher [X]

—Fives

Accum. word count: 47.7k

1: A Barista, a Twi'lek, a Chiss, and a Kid Walked into a Bar [X] 🔞

2: Trouble in Paradise Headspace [X]

3: 5+1 Times Fives Gradually Finds Himself Deeper in a Polycule Situationship [pt1] [pt2] 🔞

4: ARC Trooper Fives & Bianva System Answer the Net's Most Searched Questions | SLICED [X]

—Rex

1: The Sweetness of Slumber [X]

—Wolffe

Accum. word count: 41.6k

1: Coruscant's Hottest Gossip [X]

2: The Artist and the Muse [X] 🔞

3: Heart Breaker Superstar [X]

4: How I Want You [X] 🔞

(cont. to Coruscant's Bests: Under Pressure)

Coruscant's Bests: Under Pressure [X]

Crossover Sequel (Part 5 of 5 | Prompt Day 5: Future) Story/Pairing(s) involved are Fox × Lesiil and Wolffe × Nico Reading their previous entries beforehand is recommended to avoid spoilers!

Sweet Sea Blossom [X]

Prompt Day 6: What If... Greek Myth AU: Sea Nymph!Rex × Human!Sho'cye Pairing: Rex × Sho'cye (OFC Force Goddess)

Neither Right or Wrong [X]

Prompt Day 6: What If... What If Lesiil was a Jedi General over the Coruscant Guard? Pairing: Fox × Det. Lesiil Thrace (OFC Crime Investigator)

Other Related OC Things

Brief OC intro

Lesiil's wiki page

Rex x Sho'cye Arts: by @/carbon-corrie | by @/gregorsmissingarmor

Spotify Playlists : Rex × Sho'cye | Wolffe × Nico

Ecumenopolitan holoarticle on Wolffe's debut in Osk'arr Awards + Nico's red carpet dress

Cadet!Rex fic: Dream Currents (platonic & romantic friendship with Sho'cye)

Nico asked for help from the great advice columnist's in Ask Fives: Valentine's Day (hosted by @/aknightreaderr)

OC chibi icons

Echo × Giala entries won't be posted on time.