#phase-I clone trooper armor

[jastervhett]

Phase-I Clone Trooper Armor

Although the Phase-II Clone Trooper Armor always got a lot of love…The Phase-I Clone Trooper Armor was always the best design to me due to the Phase-I Armor's likeness to Jango Fett's Mandalorian Armor.

From the Phase-I Clone Trooper Armor. To the Phase-I Clone Commando Katarn-Class Armor. And especially the Phase-I ARC Trooper Armor with its numerous Mandalorian influences (Helmet mounted Rangefinder, Kama, Jetpacks, Wrist Rockets, etc.)

Phase-I Armor for the Win...!

[whalehaven]

Clone Sergeant Benevolent encounters a shady merchant while stationed on Coruscant.

[swtechspecs]

Kaminoan Armorsmiths Ltd. Phase I Clone Trooper Armor

Source: The New Essential Guide to Weapons and Technology (Del Rey, 2004)

[crosshairscrustysock]

Oc Scooter sketch 🛴 🛴

I’m not great at full blown character designs but I love to just sketch out small profile drawings 🥰

[astheforcewillsit]

Thinking about how when the Jedi died out they took the warmth with them amongst their troops. Like the stark lack of warmth and friendliness when the Jedi die and consequently stop taking command of the troopers hurts so much.

The clones are just cold. Not to each other, but there's a desperation in the way they are protective of each other because no one is outwardly protecting them anymore. Especially not their superior officers.

When the Jedi fell it impacted the galaxy, but there's no better example of how the fall of a Order that cared for sentient lives eventually contributed to dehumanization on a wider scale than how the clones absolutely lost what little rights they had after the Jedi died off.

Because they were some of the few who wouldn't have allowed it.

The clones collective individuality is slowly phased out too. There's no painting on the walls or the ships. Cody's armor isn't yellow? They all seem demure, and not in a good way. There is an emphasis on them being clones and nothing else.

It's as if the life is being sucked out of them all. The empire sees them as expendable, and they know it. And there's no one they can speak to to challenge that because the Jedi are dead.

You can tell just how much work the Jedi put into recognizing them as their own people and making the clones as comfortable as they could, because they clones were somewhat happy. And because when the Jedi are gone, there's a stark contrast in how different their environment is.

It's just cold and dark. Even the color scheme is different.

And while I do have many complaints about the clone and Jedi dynamic overall, there is no doubt that their command of the clones protected them as much as possible and for the most part they tried with what they had.

[coimbrabertone]

Offtopic Offseason #4 - Clone Wars Rewatch Thoughts: Part II.

So, the Clone Wars rewatch.

I'm about halfway through season five now and God the show got an amazing glow-up in the later seasons.

The timeskip in the middle of season three is a big one but I didn't realize that it was actually somewhat staggered - Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka get their redesigns in S3E10, but the Clone Troopers don't go to the Phase II armor until season four. We also don't really see many clones in the Mon Calamari episodes or on Naboo, so the Phase II armor doesn't really get focus until the Umbara arc.

From that point onwards season four is amazing. Season four is my favorite of the original run and overall, it's up there with season seven - and that's high praise considering the Siege of Mandalore arc in the series finale is some of my favorite Star Wars content period, not just in Clone Wars, but in general.

It's got Maul, it's got Mandalore, it's got Ahsoka, and it ties directly into Revenge of the Sith. What more could you want?

In fact, just before writing this I saw a clip on twitter of the moment Rex gets Order 66 and the RotS music kicks in and it's just...chef's kiss.

The animation is beautiful, the characters are fully fleshed out and realized at this point, and we get to experience the high drama of Revenge of the Sith from their perspective. It's wonderful.

Tying into Revenge of the Sith, there's also the main thing I wanted to talk about today: the Clone Wars saves Anakin's character.

Already from Attack of the Clones we see a dark, brooding Anakin that's chaffing against Obi-Wan's teachings, that can't control himself around Padme, and the darkness in him is obvious. Sure, the Jedi didn't know exactly what Anakin did to the Tusken Raiders, but we literally see Yoda and Mace Windu feeling the ripples in the Force and instantly knowing it was Anakin.

Then, after that, Anakin tries to derail the hunt for Dooku on Geonosis because of Padme, and Obi-Wan has to literally scream at him to keep him on mission. Obi-Wan literally yells "You'll be expelled from the Jedi Order!" but then we never see the Jedi follow up on this. Sure, Episode III implies that Obi-Wan knew about it and kept quiet, but we never really see a justification as to why.

Episode III tries to make up for this by showing some friendly banter between Obi-Wan and Anakin, particularly while they're rescuing the Chancellor, but it doesn't really land - especially not since we see Anakin get angry at the Council to their faces after the whole master thing. Not to mention his connections to Palpatine, him killing Dooku, and the fact that he's clearly troubled during his meditations with Yoda.

In short, the Anakin we see in the movies is clearly troubled, clearly going down a dark path, and nobody seems to give a shit about it. They just let this problem keep steamrolling until it's at the Jedi Temple committing Order 66.

Now, this is not a ridicule against Hayden Christensen, because he's doing what he's told to do. In fact, I'd say that Hayden Christensen plays Anakin's dark moments better than Matt Lanter does in Clone Wars.

What Matt Lanter does, however, is show Anakin's redeeming characteristics.

Clone Wars has the time to go out and show that Anakin has a charming side, a funny side, that he cares about his friends, and that he's an immense asset for the Republic war effort. We see enough moments between Anakin and Obi-Wan that it becomes clear why his master would give him the benefit of the doubt, and there are even a few reasons why Yoda and Mace Windu would give him a bit of a leash.

And, as many people have pointed out before, the whole drama with how Ahsoka left the Jedi Order just as she was about to become a Knight means that Anakin did fully train a Padawan. He did all the work to be considered a Master, but because of the Council's actions during the Sabotage arc, he's screwed out of the rank. This means it is an outrage, it is unfair.

Anakin's not being a petulant child, he's getting cheated out of a rank because the Council doesn't trust him.

There's also the fact that a lot of Anakin's dark moments in Clone Wars, particularly early on, are because he's trying to save his friends. He Force Chokes Poggle the Lesser to save Ahsoka from the brain worms, he strikes first and brands himself a cold-blooded killer because Tal Merrik is threatening to blow up the ship, and in the Mortis arc, Anakin turns to the Dark Side now in a misguided attempt to stop the greater evil of him becoming Darth Vader.

The show establishes early on with the Lair of Grievous episode that the war is driving the Jedi closer and closer to the Dark Side, and that includes Anakin. The war gives him convenient excuses for going for the dark option over and over again.

Then we get the Zygerrian slavers arc and the Obi-Wan undercover arc back to back.

We see Obi-Wan and Ahsoka get uncomfortable with Anakin's actions during the slavers arc, but he's given the benefit of the doubt because one: Obi-Wan knows his freudian excuse, and two: the slavers are objectively terrible.

Then just after Anakin gets dragged through that stressful situation, he's thrown into another one as the Council fakes Obi-Wan's death and sends him undercover, all without telling Anakin. When he does find out, Obi-Wan fails to address Anakin's real concerns. This sets up for Episode III perfectly because it erodes Anakin's trust in the Council, makes Obi-Wan part of that mistrust, and drives Anakin closer to Palpatine.

Palpatine, who is clearly taking an interest in Anakin's duel with Count Dooku.

Stuff like this gives Anakin a slower, more believable fall to the Dark Side.

Now consider the fact that the Clovis episodes of season six were originally meant to be early in season five before getting temporarily canned. This means that not long after Zygerria and the undercover plot, we'd get an arc focusing on Anakin's increasingly toxic and possessive side with Padme.

Hitting the dark notes one by one...and then the Sabotage arc serves to take Anakin's Padawan away.

He's losing his trust in Obi-Wan, he doesn't trust the Council at all after they were ready to blame the bombing on Ahsoka, and his relationship with Padme is taking an unhealthy turn - and on top of all that, Anakin just lost a positive influence in his life. Ahsoka isn't there to keep him responsible and to provide a check on his actions.

Anakin's alone, but Palpatine's there, whispering the Dark Side into his ears.

Then, as we go into the events of Episode III, a returning Ahsoka is sent to Mandalore to fight Maul along with Rex, while Obi-Wan is sent to Utapau to finish off Grievous. Once again, Anakin's positive influences are kept away while Anakin is stuck on Coruscant. The Council wants him to spy on Palpatine, he doesn't want to, and he immediately blows the scheme to Palpatine.

That's when Palpatine makes his move.

Anakin pushes away for a moment and goes to Mace, but Mace tells him to stay at the temple.

Anakin can't, he goes there, and he cuts Windu's arm off - the point of no return.

Clone Wars is there to recontextualize Anakin's actions, flesh them out a bit more, and make his fall to the Dark Side more believable. That's the biggest service it does to any character in the franchise, and it makes Star Wars as a whole stronger.

So yeah, the show is good.

I think I covered most of the stuff that happens later on in the show in this one, but I'm still watching so maybe I'll do a part three next week if something stands out. That being said, the Rolex 24 is this weekend and that means the offseason is coming to an end, so perhaps it's about time for this blog to get motorsport-y again. We'll have to see though.

All I can promise is that next week, I'll write about whatever's on my mind. If that's Clone Wars, then it's Clone Wars, if it's race cars, then it's race cars, if it's some other third thing, then it's some other third thing.

So...tune in next week to find out!

[cybernetic-side-eye]

Excuse me commander, if you don't mind me asking, why did you change your armour so often during the clone wars?

One of the major changes came when we went from Phase I to Phase II armor, but I guess you're referring to my paint job.

Troopers sometimes paint their armor gray to mourn the lost. I've lost my fair share of brothers. Turns out I also enjoy paining and I think of them every time I paint a replacement piece.

[zarilia]

Sims 4: Echo's Armor S1

Domino, former ARC Trooper, war hero, more-machine-than-man, down-to-earth grumpy survivor, bad pun master, rebel clone and Mom to the Batch. Is there an Echo here?

Did you notice how they photo-shopped the official show poster with Echo:

Clearly there are some limits to bending this arm construction, which might not look great in promotional merch. Anyway, I found a way to animate it without adding any bones (which I can't do yet), and while it's not perfect, it looks good at most angles. I will be creating a separate arm accessory together with robolegs next.

bloopers!

Other cc (not mine): - face overlay by @nesurii - chiseled face contour by @golyhawhaw - portrait pose pack by @samsstudio - clone phase 1 helmet by Kynd

Echo sim based on ArthurKirky's TBB Batcher available in my in-game gallery (just search for "Batcher" with pet filter).

Set is base game compatible. Custom icons. Armor found under jumpsuits, for helmet check brimless hats. Batuu enabled.

Please leave me a like, it doesn't cost anything! Thanks!

Download armor + helmet Dowlnolad cybernetic headset Download hair (studs)

[jastervhett]

Greetings everyone

And "Su'cuy'gar" to all Mandalorian fans….This is my first post here on this site.

I'm a VERY big fan of The Taung, The Mythosaur, Mandalorians, The Resol'nare, The SuperCommando Codex, Jaster Mereel, True Mandalorians, Jango/Boba Fett, The The Cuy'val Dar, Mandalorian Protectors, Mandalorian SuperCommandos, Clones, Alpha-Class ARC Troopers, Null-Class ARC Troopers, Kal Skirata, Clone Commandos, Phase-I Armored Clone Troopers, Phase-I Clone Trooper Armor, All associated Clone Trooper Weapons, Vehicles, Ships, Mandalorian Helmets, Mandalorian Armor, Mandalorian Armor Technology, Mandalorian Arm Gauntlets, All associated Mando Weapons, Vehicles, Ships, Planets, Characters & all Star Wars Armor.

(I also like ALIEN(s), Predator, RoboCop, Terminator, OG BattleStar Galactica & Sci-Fi, Blade (Daywalker), Batman, Video Games, Toons, Comix, Movies, & Animation.)

Also interested in: Armor, Armored Helmets, Helmet Cutaways, Helmet Interiors, Helmet Faceplates, Helmet Faceplate Interiors, Helmet Heads-Up Displays, Heads-Up Display (HUD), Heads-Up Displays (HUD's), HUD (Heads-Up Display), HUD's (Heads-Up Displays), Data Read-Out Displays, Data Read-Outs, Graphic User Interface (GUI), Graphic User Interfaces (GUI's), UI (User Interface) UI's (User Interfaces), Pictures, Blueprints, Charts, Diagrams, Schematics, Drawings, Technical Drawings, Mechanical Drawings, Industrial Designs, Cross Sections, Cutaways, Cutaway Views & Exploded Views.

[orangez3st]

Dream Currents

Captain Rex × OFC Force Goddess

— Chapter 12: Soon-To-Be

Tags: teen & up, f/m, gen, hurt/comfort, childhood friends, romantic friendship, fluff, pre-star wars: the clone wars, clone cadets (training in kamino), very rex-centric, rex whump, the worst is probably sw curse words (tell me if I should add more tags!)

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Sho’cye is scrutinizing him. Though, not in a bad way. Looks like she’s entertained. Arms folded across her chest, she grins in amusement as she takes him whole with a twinkle in her eyes. “This is the first time I’m seeing you in armor.”

He looks down at his training armor. “I don’t even know why I’m kitted up here.”

Sho’cye huffs a laugh. “Well, if you’re not comfortable with that, you can always put it away.” She begins to walk away. Then she pauses, turning around to see the trooper in a trance. She gives him a look. “Do I have to tell you ‘at ease’? Relax. You’re as stiff as a plank.”

In truth Six-Seven is not even in attention, but– yes he’s still, yes he hasn’t moved an inch, but that’s totally her fault. Under the dull weather in the Coastline, greying clouds and chilly ocean breeze coming their way non-stop and the sea brushing over the shore higher than usual, he’s fallen into a trance of her inducing. Her dress, of some soft material and its tail dramatically sways in the quite loud breeze. Midnight ocean hair in a braid down one shoulder. Warm, luminous smile. Familiar, welcoming air about her. Something about her easy-going manner is almost… otherworldly. A life as a soldier is all he knows, but in the Coastline with her… the distinction makes his stomach all warm and fuzzy. Makes him feel safe. But he knows better.

“Come on.” He doesn’t even realize Sho’cye has come back for him, nimble fingers tugging on his gloved hand. Sea green pools bore into him. “We’ve to find shelter. I think it’s going to rain soon.”

The notion finally sets him apace. Nodding, he walks up to her side, bucket clutched under his arm. Sho’cye lets go of her grip, smiling up at him as she allows him to match her pace up the shore, and he’s got no damn idea why he forgot to pull his hand away himself.

It's been four standard years now since they first met. Their daily – or, nightly, per his situation – meetings dwindle as he ages. Trainings are becoming more intense and the physicals are shaping and pulling his muscles taut. It looks much clearer and more obvious that his trainers are putting him up to the clone commander ranks (Two-Four can’t be more pleased for the life of him) since his leading initiative and combat prowess result in top marks among others – and they don’t even know why he’s a CT either. He leads squads in countless battle sims now and exhibits the sharpness of his mind when it comes to strategy talk, along with chugging on hours of studying planetary terrain, plus numerous munition briefings and close combat training. His trainers, even the most seasoned Mandalorian bounty hunters who personally know Jango Fett himself, continue to be flabbergasted by his not-so-CT capabilities. I swear that’s just how I am. CT comedy life or somethin’. One of his batchmates who’s gone into combat medic training once threw a ‘maybe you’re a defect’ or something that it was enough reason for him to roughhouse the poor guy and won.

And since he ages up twice as fast, seems like she’s chosen to keep up with the pace as well, following him toe-to-toe into mid adolescent stage. It astonishes him still as to why.

“What, want me to change appearance into a white-haired grumpy version of me?” she joked when he asked about it one time in their now-bimonthly meeting. Since then, he knows better than to loudly question that particular thoughtful decision of hers, although a bit ridiculous, in his opinion. She could be whatever she likes but she chose to match with my…growth phase.

They find shelter. It’s one of those caves on the west side of the beach where they have to make up quite a walk towards the rocky cliffs. Just as they duck under the entryway that faces directly towards shrubs and trees and a peek of the shoreline, the first torrential drizzle has started to splatter onto the sand and rocks. Six-Seven notices Sho’cye taking a deep breath, staring out into the rain, pleased as she breathes out her nature.

He follows suit. Deep breaths, counting, in and out. The smell of ichor and dampness starts filling his nostrils as he stands by the cave’s entrance – by instinct. On the rather smooth rocky cave floor, the distinction between Sho’cye and himself becomes more apparent than before. Here he is kitted up in his training armor, helmet under one arm and DC15S standard-issued blaster safely holstered looking almost ready for battle at a moment’s notice, while she calmly squats and leans back against the wall with a longing look into the rain, the tail of her soft-looking white dress grazing the cave floor. Looking vulnerable… too delicate. But he certainly knows there’s much raw primordial ire behind the surface softness of it all.

It's not their first encounter with rain. He loses count already, seemingly unable to find the reason why she opts for the weather. Change of scenery? Mood? Beats me.

“Ah, won’t you look at that! Already prepared for us. As if there’s someone else on this beach.”

He turns at her cheery voice, arms unfolding from his chest to his sides. Not far behind them, on the smooth surface of the cave, a modest, yet comfortable-looking red rug is splayed out with a couple of throw pillows on it. Sho’cye is innocently grinning up at him with a teasing glimmer in her eyes.

Scoffing, he remarks dryly, “Very convenient.” As if she didn’t manifest that out of thin air herself.

“Ha, don’t I know it,” Sho’cye reciprocates, grinning the whole time she goes to settle onto the rug. Smiling up at him, she pats the spot beside her. “Come sit. Or is the armor bothering you to?”

“I’m fine. I’ll just be here,” he refuses. At her face slightly falling, he immediately adds, “Just out of habit. Thank you, though.”

Sho’cye hums, recovering. “Ever the soldier,” she smirks, fetching a pillow and holding it to her chest. “Is that whole get-up going to be on you too when you’re out in the battlefield?”

He shakes his head, glancing down at himself. “No. This is just training armor. We use it for battle simulations.” He bangs his knuckles against his chestplate. His other hand hovers on his holstered blaster. “And these, uh, these aren’t loaded with live rounds. Practice only. Basically harmless, but still packing a punch if we get shot.”

Sho’cye eyes him teasingly. “Did you ever get shot?”

“In battle sim?” He ponders for a while, then shrugs. “Once or twice.”

She gasps. “Really?”

“Mhm.”

“In your whole life? You’ve only been shot ‘once or twice’ in battle simulations?”

The look she throws his way is incredulous, yet there’s her sea green eyes that tell him everything – she’s mesmerized. Her lips slightly part with a curious look on her face prompting him to tell more and more of his story. Her fascination may contain childlike enthusiasm, but it drives enough heat onto his cheekbones in sheepishness.

“Uh… let’s just say by this point I’ve memorized almost every move those practice droids would make,” he shrugs, hoping that the dimness of the cave covers enough of his flustered cheeks. “They’ve got different commands, and I’ve been in hundreds of battle sims, leading the squad and cooking tactics. It’s, it’s kinda mandatory for me to catch what those clankers would do in every scenario possible.”

He needs to glance away at times to recover and prevent himself from stumbling on his own words, but that adorable look is making it difficult. He mentally shoves himself. Maker, you need to kriffing stop.

Sho’cye has been nodding along, taking care of his spoken words like a treasure. She hums, gaze pointing at his training armor. “So you’ll be getting a different set of armor when you’re deployed?”

Finally something else I can focus on that’s not about me. “Yeah.” He runs a hand across his blond, buzzed head to relieve some of the tension. He exhales heavily. “Depends on what kind, actually. My trainers and overseers are… considering putting me in the clone commander ranks, despite I’m a regular trooper.”

There we go again. Talking about yourself. Stupid, stupi–

“But your combat prowess proves otherwise, no?” She raises a single eyebrow.

“Exceedingly, yeah.” Shrugging, he folds his arms tight across his chest. “I’m surprised too. I mean, I’m surprised they’re gonna do that. I’m just doing what I’ve learned.”

Sho’cye ponders seriously for a moment – the earnest change in the atmosphere is enough for him to recover and finally the heat on his cheeks subsides, just in time as she continues, “Well, alright, maybe their programming slipped? Didn’t you say you are to be made Captain, eventually?”

He nods. “At that time I thought they were gonna veto it, but eventually I’m made an exception. Usually ranks are for command clones. The CC’s. They receive much more intense training, more tactical tests, just as much as leading the action on the battlefield. They’re engineered with more free thinking and intuition for the sake of making the best battle tactics, and with our Mandalorian independent culture our trainers have been fueling us with, they’ve become the best in the area.” He pauses. “And there are others like the RC’s, but what they do and learn is off-limits for us, even the CC’s. Classified kinda stuff. For now. All we know is they’re the super duper elite unit.”

Sho’cye’s eyes light up, her lips stretch into a beaming smile. “Okay. Now I’m more confident their programming slipped and got absorbed by you, then,” she chuckles. His own small laughter escapes him, having to look down and focus on every single ridge of his boots in order to, y’know, not blushing. “Have you received the command training?” she asks again.

“Not yet,” he shakes his head. He meets her questioning gaze. “But I’m told I’ll be formally assigned somewhere this year.”

“I hope soon. Your brothers must be excited about you joining them in classes,” she smiles fondly. The twinkle in her sea green eyes returns as she moves to another topic, “Have they had their names yet?”

“Some.” He tilts his head to recount. “Two-Four, not yet. Three-Six is Wolffe. Ten’s batchmates are getting creative and starting to call him Fox now, since he’s been reluctant to name himself. And he loves being an ass to Wolffe. Think it’s funny to name Ten after an animal too.”

Sho’cye giggles. “Those are good names, nonetheless,” she comments, nodding towards him. “How about you?”

He shakes his head again. Popping a list of possible nicknames he wants for himself hasn’t been on his recent to-do list, given he’s not in such a hurry. “Haven’t found anything fitting,” he says.

“Hope you’ll find one.” Sho’cye locks her gaze with him, a genuine, luminous smile reaching her eyes. “Considering you’ll be a Captain and all, it’s got to have a nice ring to it.”

[Content] [Start] [Prev] [Next] [AO3] [Spotify]

Word Count: 1,853

[silverwings22]

Forget-Me-Not Blue, In Red (Commander Fox One-Shot)

SFW, but injury, Order 66, and angst

This idea hit me out of nowhere, and I don't know if it'll turn into anything bigger like my Tech one-shot did. But have fun with it!

He’d woken up to the truth a little slower than some of his brothers, but Fox had woken up eventually. The Republic, the war, the Empire, it was all a farce put together to turn the galaxy upside down in someone else’s image. He and his kin had simply been the bullet in a loaded slugthrower, and the order had been a finger on the trigger. 

Order 66. 

He’d been aimless afterwards, watching things shift around him. Smoke belched from the burning Jedi Temple for days, while he and the Coruscant Guard ensured order. There were riots, there were planets resisting… then there were TK troopers and suicide missions as clones were phased out. Squad by squad, legion by legion, until no one was left between him and the chopping block. He’d always thought he’d go first, before the younger brothers. The shinies, the ones he looked after and protected. He’d always taken the first week of any posting when a new delegate requested a clone guard detail, so he could see what they were like. The bad ones got older, hardened brothers who could take it. He’d never let little brothers suffer under someone like Palpatine… that’s why he’d stayed so long. He could have transferred, there was one posting he’d always wanted… but he stayed. He took the abuse, the bruises and scars, the unexplainable gaps in his memory, the injuries that looked like lightning strikes on a planet that didn’t have lightning… 

He’d done it for his brothers. Now, most of them were gone. Some turned up dead, on missions or in the barracks without explanation besides a cold look from an Imperial officer. Others just went missing. There were rumors, whispered between clones, of a place you could go and words you could say. If you went, you didn’t come back. Like tales of fae on Stewjon, the mysterious Other Ones would whisk you to a new place. What it was, no clone had returned to tell. Some were willing to risk it. After a year under the Empire, Fox was willing to risk it. 

It was a derelict hangar bay in the lower mid levels. The instructions had said come alone, with only what he could carry and to give up the rest. “I’m looking for a ride home.” He said quietly, just enough he hoped someone heard. He hoped someone came, and it wasn’t a trap to weed out the traitors among the clones. His only answer then would be a blaster bolt to the chest for treason-

“You’re in direct violation of Order 66. You are guilty of treason, and will be executed.”

“Fox?”

The sound of footsteps made him turn, and he found himself looking at 501st blue paint on the white standard armor. Jaig eyes were on the helmet, covered in tally marks to represent fallen brothers… he knew that armor. His comrade, his friend, his brother. “Rex?”

“Fox.” Rex pulled his helmet off, revealing his blonde buzz cut and a new scar on the right temple. “I was hoping you’d show up one day.”

“The reports said you were dead.” Fox reached for his arm with unsteady hands, clasping Rex tightly. If the captain noticed his hands were shaking, he didn’t comment. 

“It’s better if the Empire thinks that. Come on. You’re safe now, vod.”

When Rex took him off Coruscant, Fox was whisked to a field hospital. He wasn’t even sure what planet he was going to, Rex apologizing when he told him the secrecy was needed. “There’s a chip in your head, vod. That’s why you carried out the Order. We have to take it out, and make sure you’re okay before you decide what you do with the rest of your life.”

“What have other clones been doing?” Fox asked, sitting blindfolded in a seat of a shuttle beside him. 

“Some decided to keep fighting. There’s a resistance, mostly clones but with some nat-born help. Others have been retiring. They’re exhausted. I can’t blame them… some go to a place a couple friends of mine found, called Pabu. Others have settled on Pantora. Senator Chuchi’s been helping us.”

“I can’t go to Pantora.” Fox said, too fast and he knew it.

“Did something happen, Fox?”

“I did something… during the Order. Something unforgivable.”

Rex patted his brother’s shoulder. “We all have regrets. It wasn’t your fault, it was the control chip in your brain. We’ll get it out soon, and you’ll be free. I promise.”

Fox wanted to call his brother a liar. He’d never be free from what he’d done. He wanted to confess right there, but his jaw locked and his throat closed at the memory of the night the Republic fell. “C-can I tell you?” He finally managed to rasp. “You should know… who you’re saving. What I’ve done.”

“You’re my brother, Fox. That’s all that matters.” Rex said it kindly, but Fox didn’t feel like he deserved any of it. “But I’m listening.”

Fox nodded, fists clenched in his lap. With the blindfold on, he could imagine every word he spoke as he stuttered out the story. The worst thing he’d ever done, the reason he had to get out of the Empire.

Kandri Chitose had been Senator Riyo Chuchi’s personal assistant, a golden-eyed beauty who always wore her rose-pink hair in a set of twin buns held with golden pins. He’d met her when Chuchi requested a clone detail for her, and Fox had arrived for his customary week-long observation. 

Most delegates, even the nice ones, didn’t address the clones at first. Most were nervous being around military personnel, and didn’t know how to break the ice. Some were intimidated. Many just didn’t view the clones as people, and acted accordingly. 

She’d offered him a cup of caf before he was fully in her office. “Good morning!” She’d been balanced precariously on a stool, set in a rolling desk chair, trying to reach the bag of caf on top of her office shelf. “Hold on a moment, I’ll make us both a cup if you’d like. My menace of a brother came to visit and he put my caf all the way up here! Do you like caf? I have tea if you’d prefer.”

“Do you need help, ma’am?” He could only watch her on the tippy toe of one foot, blue calf disappearing under her red dress. Her favorite color, he’d find out eventually. 

“I think I’ve- aha! Got it.” She clambered down with a smile. The gold tattoos on her face formed a bar over her nose and triangles on her chin and cheekbones. “Now then. I’m Kandri. What’s your name, and please don’t tell me a CT number. I get mixed up with numbers, but I’m good with names.” 

“Commander Fox, ma’am.” 

She held out a hand to shake, and her nails were painted red. He’d remember that polish forever. “It’s nice to meet you, Commander. Caf or tea?”

“Caf is fine, but you don’t have to go to the trouble-”

“It’s not trouble. There’s creamers in the fridge by my desk, pick whichever you like.” She headed to the caf maker and got it going with deft fingers. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever put creamer in caf.” He frowned, but took his helmet off so he could at least enjoy the offering she was so insistent on giving him.

She wrinkled her nose. “To each his own. If you ever change your mind, it’s right there. Here’s the sugar. Now, I know they didn’t tie up a Commander like you to babysit little me, so you must have stuff you need to get done. Can you do it here, or should we go to your office after caf? I can work anywhere. Riyo just has me drafting her speeches today.”

By the end of the week, Fox almost didn’t leave the posting. She made him caf every morning, and let him get work done. When there was time, she asked him about himself and his brothers. And he’d tried every creamer in her fridge.

He assigned her a shiny, because he knew she’d be good to his little brother. She’d given him her comm frequency and told him he had an open invitation to have caf in her office, and to call her if he ever needed anything.

Fox infamously didn’t like people. He liked Kandri after that. 

He didn’t intend to call her. He felt bad as he dialed the frequency, but it was 0300 and he had no one else to call for help. She hadn’t asked any questions, just showed up at the senate building in a red peacoat over her white nightgown, feet in a pair of ballet flats. He was on the bottom of the stairs with a broken foot and gash over his eye. Kandri had pulled his weight, armor and all, onto her narrow shoulders and helped him to her office so she could take a look at him. She’d cleaned his cut and put a bacta patch on it, then tried to argue with him that he needed to go to the hospital. 

He feigned embarrassment and told her he’d fallen down the stairs. Kandri had put her hands on her hips and stared him down, her hair out of its buns and falling in gentle waves down almost to her waist. He’d never thought about how pretty she was until then, in her pajamas with no makeup, golden eyes bright with worry. He eventually did let her take him in her skycar to the garrison medbay across the city sector, where she’d sat with him until a clone medic set and put his foot in a boot. Then she’d driven him to the barracks, taken one look at how many stairs he’d have to manage, and shook her head. “You can sleep on my couch, Fox. Call Thire and tell him you’ll be out until you’re better.”

“I can’t let everything pile up on him, Lady Chitose-” 

“Then I’ll pick up your datapad tomorrow and you can call it light duty. But you need to rest, or your foot won’t heal right. And please… just call me Kandri?”

After his foot healed, he made time to see her more often. She always had a cup of caf and a smile for him. Sometimes she picked up lunch for herself and Senator Chuchi and “got an extra” that always coincided with something he’d mentioned wanting to try or liking before. He watched her, bit by bit, moderate herself for him. 

If he mentioned that a certain phrase reminded him of the senator that threw a full cup of hot caf across the room at him or a brother, that phrase disappeared from her vocabulary. If he mentioned a delegate who mistreated clones, she stepped between them and her shiny guard the next time they met in the hall. Fox noticed, if he didn’t see it live he’d find out on security holo review later. Bit by bit, she showed him she was safe. She was kind. She could be trusted. 

Eventually, he started letting her visit his office after hours, when he was catching up on things and no one else was there. She sat in the chair by his desk, moving it closer day by day… until one day she was sitting on the desk corner itself. His helmet was sitting beside her, and her hand rested lightly on it. 

“Fox?”

“Hm?”

“How’d you get that scar across the bridge of your nose?” Her voice had been so quiet, so fretful and hesitant. Like she was afraid she’d scare him off.

He paused, stylus in hand, and looked at her. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I see how many other ones you have. Your hands, your arms under your blacks, your chest… when you stayed at my apartment, I could see there were so many…”

“I’m a soldier, Kandri. Scars are a part of the job.”

Her pink eyebrows furrowed, red painted lips parting as she fixed her eyes on him. “Fox. I know you didn’t fall down the stairs that night.” 

Fox stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes you do.” She slowly leaned a little closer. “I see you. The first one to step between your brothers and danger. The last one to back down. You didn’t even flinch when that Zillo creature attacked this building, but you twitch when we pass certain senators in the hall. You look around when you hear the Chancellor’s voice. And you’re a clone commander, the most graceful and battle-ready people in the galaxy. You didn’t fall. Someone pushed you. Tell me who.”

“I can’t do that.” He shook his head, unable to tear his eyes away from hers. 

“But they hurt you.”

“I’m a soldier. A clone. We’re meant to be expendable.”

“That’s not fair, Fox.” Kandri kept leaning in, though her hand on his helmet tightened its grip. “It’s not right. You don’t deserve it.”

“Lots of people think so.” He swallowed hard. He had an idea of what she was going to say next, and he wanted to hear it just as much as he didn’t. Once the words came out of her mouth, he’d never forget them. They’d mean too much to him.

“I would never hurt you.” Kandri whispered. “But I know you can’t believe that. Too many people have already let you down.” 

He’d never been more seen than that moment, in the light of those golden eyes. There was no formality or procedure to hide behind. He’d already let her in too close, he couldn’t close the door again. “I want to believe you.” He admitted. 

“Would you let me try to prove it?” 

The galaxy had moved much too fast when he nodded. “... how?”

“Like this.” She’d kissed him, so soft and sweet and unlike anything he’d known since the day he came out of the growth tube. She pulled back after a moment, checking his expression for hesitation or distaste. When she found none, her cheeks flushed indigo and she slowly reached up to cup his face in both her hands. He closed his eyes when her thumbs stroked under them, tracing his scar and temples, where his black hair had started to gray far too early even for a man with accelerating aging. “I would never hurt you.” She said softly. “I’ll keep telling you until you believe me.” 

He was one of millions of men, made to die indistinguishably as numbers on a strategy board. He’d accepted it in his exhausted way, told himself he’d do what he could for as long as he could to keep the vod’ikase safe. But for a moment, under Kandri’s soft blue hands, he felt like he might actually matter. He didn’t quite believe, but he wanted to.

Her second kiss was on his forehead. He adored her after that.

Stolen kisses during caf time turned to sneaking out of the barracks into her apartment, or either of their offices. Riyo Chuchi wasn’t stupid, she knew there was more than a friendship and simply let Kandri off the hook early some days. If her skycar was still at the senate building when the Senator left… she didn’t say anything. 

Fox knew he was in love with her when she had to go back to Pantora for a month with Chuchi. She’d kissed him goodbye in an alcove behind the barracks, promising she’d be back soon. He’d missed her every single day, and thought about comming twice an hour at least. Only the reality that they both were working stopped him… but he found himself thinking about her constantly. Every petty jab from a senator who viewed him as barely more than a droid was easier to take when he imagined her rolling her eyes and whispering what an asshole she thought they were. Even the innate dread he felt whenever he was in Palpatine’s office eased slightly if he distracted himself with the thought she was coming back soon. 

The Chancellor had noticed. Fox should have realized that was odd. There was no outward sign, no change in behavior, he’d been sure of it. But Palpatine had looked suspicious, like he’d both anticipated Fox’s discomfort and felt slighted by its absence. He’d been worse than ever after that, but Fox ignored it. It didn’t matter. The job, the Republic, wasn’t his entire life anymore. It was just an assignment, something to get through so he could go back to where he wanted to be. Kandri waited on the other side of whatever shitty day he was having, with open arms. 

When she’d sent him a message that she was back, he’d asked Thorn to cover for him for the first time in his life. His brother had been delighted, grinning like a moron. “Please tell me you have a date. And please tell me it’s that cute Pantoran girl with the buns.”

“That’s classified.” Fox had left his helmet in his office, he was in such a rush. He never forgot equipment, and failed to give a fuck when he realized what he’d done. He’d get it again when he went back to work. All that mattered was getting to her apartment. 

Kandri had met him at the door, in a red sweater over her day dress, and threw her arms around his neck. “I missed you so much.” She’d whispered, snuggling into his chest. “It’s good to be home.” He’d understood then, that Pantora wasn’t her home anymore. He was, like she was his. He’d spent the whole night in her arms, lighter than he’d felt since he was a cadet. She was almost asleep on his chest when he kissed her rosebud pink hair and murmured. “I believe you.” 

Kandri had smiled, looking up at him in the dimness of her bedroom, the city lights from the window casting dynamic shadows across her face as she smiled at him. Her fingers trailed over the bridge of his nose. “I love you too.” 

“Execute Order 66.” 

When the Order went out, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. His head was in a vice, his thoughts muddled and discoordinate. He’d walked out of his office with other members of the Coruscant Guard, up to Palpatine’s office. The window had been broken. There were dead Jedi, traitors. The 501st was marching on the Temple, and he was to catch any who escaped them. 

All Jedi had to die. 

It had been a blur. His boots on the ground, orders given, the sound of breathing in his helmet, and then he’d turned down into an alleyway. 

Two kids, barely more than ten or twelve, were clinging to each other. They were dressed in brown robes, with beaded braids by their ears. Next to them were a pair of Pantoran adults, a male and a female. They were comforting the padawans, clearly trying to help them. When he turned the corner, the woman stiffened at the sound of his boots. Before she even turned around, Fox had recognized her red dress. “Kandri.”

“Fox.” Kandri’s eyes were wide, but she looked relieved to see him. “What’s going on? These padawans said the Temple was attacked! We were out walking-” She took a step towards him, but froze when his blaster lifted. 

Run, Kandri. Run. Take the padawans, take the other Pantoran. Run. Memory begged her, but she hadn’t. She’d pushed the other Pantoran and children behind her. “Lofi… take them and go.”

Lofi. Her brother, the one who hid her caf. She talked about him, he was a disability advocate and teacher at the fiber arts college at Coruscant University. He was blind. She was so proud of him. They were twins. Fox remembered all the facts but he couldn’t lower the blaster. 

“You’re in direct violation of Order 66. You are guilty of treason, and will be executed.” His own voice had said, dull and uninflected, like he was complaining about the pre-programed weather and not pointing a blaster at her. 

Kandri’s eyes watered up with tears. “Fox… please.”

“You are a traitor to the Empire.” There hadn’t even been an Empire yet, but he’d said it like it had existed for decades. 

The tears spilled over, tracking down her cheeks. There were freckles across her nose, darker blue and barely visible in the dim alley light. A constellation all his own, or it had been. “I love you.” She whispered, because of course she had. What else could she have said, in the moment before he pulled the trigger? Before the blaster bolt struck her dead in the chest and she collapsed backwards, head slamming into the pavement. Sprawled on her back, one bun coming loose and dipping pink hair into a puddle, knees tucked together and one foot bare where the blast had knocked her right out of her shoe. 

He’d ripped his helmet off and vomited immediately, tears in his eyes. 

He’d shot her. He’d killed her.

Kandri. 

He wished she had run. He’d never have seen her again, and she’d have thought he was a child-hunting monster for the rest of her life but she would have been alive. Instead, she was dead in an alleyway. And Fox should have called it in, but he couldn’t make himself get any closer to the corpse of the woman who’d only this morning had been alive and sneaking him a breakfast pastry from a Senatorial banquet just because she knew he liked cinnamon. 

Fox had left her there, because he couldn’t make himself look at what he’d done.

When he finished the story, Rex just let him squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry, vod. I’m so sorry.”

After the chip was removed and he recovered, Fox didn’t know what to do with himself. He refused Pantora, he was hesitant about Pabu… so he decided to join Rex’s fight. Senator Chuchi was helping Rex, and it was a fight worthy of going to battle again. It was something he could imagine being proud of eventually, if he could ever be proud of anything he ever did again. 

No matter how much his vode assured him that the chip had forced his hand, he still remembered he’d been the one to pull the trigger. He’d hunted those padawans. He’d declared Kandri Chitose a traitor. He’d killed her for the very thing he’d fallen in love with, her willingness to stand between someone and what hurt them. She’d been willing to save someone. She’d saved him, and those padawans, and her brother. 

He couldn’t save her from himself.

“The base here is staffed with mostly clones, but there’s a couple civilian volunteers. Trace and Rafa Martez own the hangar you came to, you’ll see them. There’s a couple mechanics, one really smart and obnoxious droid technician, and a cleaner.” Rex explained, walking Fox in. “Don’t eat anything Howser says he cooked. Don’t stand near Gregor if he says he’s got an idea…. Anything else he should know, Vik?”

The bearded clone beside him, with gray eyes and a tired expression born of a place Fox had only heard whispered about, “Tantiss”, nodded. “Be nice to Kitty. Every clone in here will punch you if you make her cry.”

“Kitty?” Fox frowned. 

“She’s the cleaner. A couple of the guys who defected like you did found her barely alive on their way out. She had a sucking chest wound, but they had some spare bacta and managed to save her. She doesn’t talk, we’re not sure if she can’t or just won’t. But she makes little noises like a tooka, so we started calling her Kitty and she seems to like it.” Vik explained. “She looks after everyone, especially the new guys who just got out of the Empire. She likes to bring people food.” 

Fox nodded. “She sounds nice.”

Rex smiled. “I keep trying to get her to leave base, to see if we can find out who she is. She doesn’t seem to remember anything… but if anyone so much as mentions it, she hides. I found her in a walk in freezer once.”

“She didn’t get sick?” Fox frowned. 

Vik shook his head. “Pantorans can take the cold better than us.”

Fox winced, but nodded. 

“Here she comes. Someone must have told her we had a new arrival.” Rex nodded. 

Sure enough, coming from the back of the base was a Pantoran girl with pink hair tied into a messy braid. She was wearing what looked like clone blacks bottoms and an undershirt, with a gray poncho tucked into her belt, and too-big boots, while very proudly carrying a tray of fruit. Vik smiled as she got close enough to make out the details of her face. “Hey, Miss Kitty.”

Kitty made a definitively tooka-like purr-myrr sound and held up the tray towards him. 

Rex nodded. “She’ll get upset if you don’t at least eat a little.” He whispered to Fox. “She keeps this place spotless, and we give her little odd jobs outside of that to keep her happy.” 

Fox nodded, turning back towards her as Kitty walked up with her tray. Just as her boots stopped, inches from his own, he dropped his helmet to the floor.

There was a constellation of freckles across her nose, sitting under liquid gold eyes that looked back at him with a guileless smile. She wore no makeup, no gold pins in her hair, but Fox’s mouth went dry at the sight of a ragged blaster-burn scar peeking just out of the top of her shirt. Her braid, pulled over her shoulder, was tied with a tattered ribbon in a bright, cheerful red. She held up the tray again, squeaking at him curiously with tone instead of words. 

“Th-thank you.” Fox whispered, taking a piece of melioruun. Kitty kept squeaking until Rex and Vik took a piece, then trotted off after Howser in the distance. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Vik frowned.

“You don’t need to take her off base to know who she is.” Fox whispered, the fruit dripping juice down his gloves when he unconsciously squeezed it. 

“You know her?” Rex glanced over at Kitty again. He’d been trying to figure out what to do with a girl who could barely seem to look after herself, but who was determined to try to look after the clones fighting for their lives against the Empire.

“I’m the reason she can’t talk, or remember.” Fox swallowed hard. “It’s her.”

“Her?” Rex frowned.

“The one I told you about… Her name is Kandri Chitose.”

[toomanyteefs]

So!!! I had an awful idea and decided that I wanted to make a custom figure of my clone medical officer OC Stitch, whom some of you will be familiar with since he appears as a major character in both Do-Over and Snapback. Given that Stitch is a medical OFFICER and not just a medic, he doesn’t wear armor and actually wears a regular medical officer uniform, so a blank clone trooper fig or even a standard Corrie fig wouldn’t cut it. Handily enough though, the imperial officer uniforms and the clone officer uniforms are almost identical. To that end, when I found an imperial officer figure on clearance at the local Center For All That Is Evil (Walmart) I snapped him up and ordered some stuff off Etsy (a clone wars head sculpt and a little datapad for him to hold) as well as all the various other tools I’d need to repaint him.

Here’s the figure I bought still in his box.

It took a couple weeks for the stuff I ordered to show up, but it finally arrived today and I was finally able to start my project!

Here’s the figure with the new head sculpt, as yet unpainted.

From there I primed him with white, which took several hours to dry before I could start painting on him.

Here he is primed and drying.

I decided to do the phase 2 clone medical officer uniform because it’s - in my opinion - less ugly than the phase 1 uniform, although unfortunately it also has more tiny details for me with my shaky hands and too big brushes to try and freehand, so there’s that.

All in all he’s not perfect, this is a 3.75 inch figure so some of the details were so small I had to paint them with the tip of a sewing pin and the whole thing could be better, but overall I’m happy with how he turned out! Especially since he’s only the second fig I’ve ever painted, and certainly the smallest!

Finished Stitch (with my phase 1 Foxy for company):

[purplefangirl42]

Wreck My Plans (Part 1)

Summary: Your life seemed planned out and perfect, until you met a certain soldier.

Pairing: Fives/Fem!Reader

A/N: This is part one of a late birthday gift for @baba-fett. It is loosely based on the song "Willow" by Taylor Swift, in honor of Iris' Swiftiehood.

AO3 Link || Part 2 (Coming Soon!) Divider by saradika

Tags/Warnings: Feelings of being unfulfilled, Themes of Infidelity

All your life, you had a big plan for how you wanted things to work out for you. Find the right person, the right job, the right environment. Settle down, maybe have some kids, and just live life to the fullest. With where you stood now, it seemed that you were right on track to meet those goals. A good job, a partner that met all of your criteria, and future opportunities that were almost within your grasp. That all changed when you met a certain soldier.

You had agreed to go out with your friends, to serve as moral support for one that had recently been dumped and was looking for some fun. You had all ended up at the bar called 79’s, which was known to be the place most of the GAR’s clone troopers spent their shore leave. There were many men for your friend to choose from and you could watch silently from the sidelines, cheering them on. As of now, they seemed to be engrossed with a trooper wearing red and white armor, likely one of the men from the Coruscant Guard.

Satisfied that they were fine and happy with their choice, you got up from your seat and headed to the bar. If things didn’t work out, you were sure they’d be able to handle it on their own. Deep down, you knew that you had truly only been invited because they felt bad for you. While it seemed that all of your life plans were falling into place, the happiness it brought you only ran skin deep. Anyone that really knew you could see that you weren’t actually happy, only pretending to be.

You had liked your job for the first year or so, but things had quickly gotten repetitive and it rarely brought you any sense of accomplishment. It was just a way to pay the bills at this point. Even if the rumored promotion that was in store for you was really possible, you didn’t think it would make much of a difference in your day to day life. On top of that, your partner had a more successful career than you and you couldn’t help feeling left behind, even when they were so supportive of your hard work.

Your partner, who had once seemed like a gift from the maker themself, was a whole other problem. You knew they cared for you, but things never seemed to have any passion. What had seemed like perfect chemistry when you met had fizzled out once you settled into a sense of comfort and stability. Although, that was normal, wasn’t it? The so-called ‘honeymoon phase’ wasn’t meant to last forever. You had thought it would last a little longer than it had though.

“A credit for your thoughts?”

The deep voice beside you pulled you out of the recesses of your mind and back to the loud and bright environment of the bar. You looked up from the drink in your hand to see a trooper standing next to you, a drink of his own in his hand. He was handsome, like all of the clones. He wore blue and white armor with some kind of half skirt hanging around his hips. A goatee adorned his chin and there was a number tattooed on his right temple, a five judging by what you could see.

“I’m not sure they’re worth that much,” you said in reply, realizing that you had been rude by not responding. “I was mostly zoning out, so nothing too serious going on up there.”

The man gave you a warm smile and held out his free hand toward you.

“Name’s Fives,” he said. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

The tattoo suddenly made sense. You returned his smile and took the offered hand, shaking it once before pulling away again.

“Nice to meet you, Fives, but I’m taken. If you’re looking for someone to have fun with, I’m afraid you’ll have to look elsewhere.”

Fives’ brow furrowed as he made a confused face in response to your answer.

“Huh, I’ve never met anyone named ‘Taken’ before. And people think we have weird names.”

You laughed softly and shook your head, amused by his horrible joke. He didn’t seem to care that you weren’t available, persisting on being friendly anyways. You relented and told him your name, which got another smile out of him.

“If you’re spoken for, what are you doing here all alone?” he asked. “The taken ones don’t usually come here unless they’re looking for a night of fun.”

“I was here to support my friend, but it looks like they don’t need me anymore,” you said, pointing to said friend, who was dragging the trooper they had been talking to towards the door. “I don’t really have any reason to stick around, so I should probably head home.”

“Stay for one drink?” he asked, his eyes pleading more than his voice did. “I don’t usually get to talk to girls that aren’t immediately trying to jump me.”

You let out a long sigh as you considered his offer. Surely one drink wouldn’t hurt. Would make the evening seem like less of a waste.

“One drink, and then you’re on your own.”

Your promised one drink lasted over an hour. Fives told you stories from his various missions, funny anecdotes from his time on Kamino with his squad, and he never seemed to stop talking about his brother Echo. You simply sat and listened to everything he had to say, occasionally sipping from your drink. The animated way he talked was mesmerizing to you, pulling you in and keeping you interested in everything he was saying. By the time you finally finished your drink, you weren’t sure you wanted this conversation to end.

“I’m sorry I’ve been talking your ear off,” he said apologetically. “You didn’t really have much chance to say anything.”

“That’s fine! I liked listening to all your stories, they were very interesting. I’m afraid that my drink is gone though, so I should probably head home.”

You could see the slightest hint of a pout on his lips and you felt a twinge in your stomach at the sight. He seemed to truly enjoy spending time with you, a sentiment that was mutual if you were being honest. It was getting late, however, and you needed to head home before your partner started to wonder where you were. 

“It was really nice to meet you, Fives,” you said, repeating your words from earlier in the evening. “Maybe we’ll meet again sometime.”

“I certainly hope so,” he said with a grin. “See you around, beautiful.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as he called you beautiful for the second time that evening. While the first time hadn’t really had an effect on you, the time spent together and the consumption of alcohol seemed to have warmed you up to him a bit more. You gathered your things and waved goodbye before exiting the bar.

As you rode in the cab back to your apartment, you found your thoughts drifting back to the man at the bar. His presence, his mannerisms, his smile, his laugh. They had all had a lasting effect on you that you couldn’t quite shake. It was a sensation that you hadn’t felt in a long time and part of you wanted to hold onto that feeling as long as you could. It wasn’t a crime to feel flattered and happy with someone new, especially in a situation as temporary as this evening had been.

When you arrived home, you found the place dark. Your partner was sound asleep in the bed, softly snoring without a care in the world. It seemed your worries about their concern about you were unfounded. It was almost as if they didn’t notice you had been gone for as long as you had been. You got ready for bed and slipped in beside them, listening to the snores as you lay there staring at the ceiling.

Your mind wandered back to your companion for the evening, his handsome face in the forefront of your memory. It was a nice thing to focus on as you felt yourself drifting off to sleep, a smile forming on your lips as you savored the sensations you had enjoyed in Fives’ company. You wondered if you would ever get the chance to see him again, and you sincerely hoped you would.

Nearly a month later, you still hadn’t been able to get Fives out of your head. Every time you saw a clone trooper, your eyes drifted to their face to see if you could find the goatee and five tattoo. None of them were ever him, but you kept looking regardless. Your friend noticed the attention you paid to all the clones you encountered and asked you if you had a thing for them. When you reminded them that you had someone, they simply smirked and shrugged their shoulders. 

“Why does that matter? You’d likely never see him again. Have some fun and pretend it never happened. You could be doing one of them a favor, letting them get some action before they go off to die in the stupid war.”

You didn’t like that way of thinking, and you told your friend so. Even if they didn’t have much time to enjoy themselves, they deserved more than to be used for the entertainment of others. If they wanted to go out and lose themselves in some trooper they never wanted to see again, that was their business, but it wasn’t something you intended to do.

That night when you got home, you were surprised to find your partner waiting for you. They were almost never home before you, working late hours at the office of the Senator they worked with. Their presence in the apartment at this time of day was completely unheard of.

“What’s going on?” you asked, looking around to see if anything was amiss in the apartment. “Is something wrong?”

“I hope not, or this will be quite awkward,” they said, pushing a button on the small remote in their hands.

Soft music began to play and you finally noticed the things that were different. There were flowers in a vase on the counter, small candles burning in various places, and the overall lighting of the room was dim. When your eyes drifted back to them, you saw them sinking down to one knee.

“I had hoped to make this a bit more romantic,” they started. “Take you out for dinner and make a big thing about it, but I thought this would be more your speed.”

You felt your heart rate increase as you realized what was happening. They were proposing. This was a moment that you had been imagining since you were a young girl and had been waiting to happen since you had gotten together. It was everything you had wanted.

So why did it feel so wrong? Why did you want to turn around and run away?

You stared at your partner, your mouth hanging open in disbelief. Things had been so stagnant between you that you had never seen this coming. Had there been signs that you had missed? Had you been so distracted by the thought of a man that probably didn’t even remember your name that you didn’t see what was right in front of you?

“I think the two of us are a great match, and we could do great things together in the future.”

Part of you wanted to stop them before they went any further, but another part of you wanted to latch onto this opportunity and take it before it slipped away. This is what you had wanted for so long, it only made sense that you accept your fate and follow the plan you had laid out so many years ago.

“We don’t need to rush into anything and I’m willing to wait until you’re ready and everything can be as you want, but I want you to know how much you mean to me. I want you to know that I’m committed to you and this relationship.”

These were the words you had been waiting to hear for months. You had been so desperate for them only a month ago, but now they seemed to skim right over you as if they meant nothing. A call of your name broke you out of your thoughts and focused your attention on the person before you.

“Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Your lips couldn’t form an answer. Neither acceptance or rejection left your mouth. You simply stood there staring at them. A thousand thoughts blew around inside your mind, pushing you this way and that. You couldn’t make sense of any of them, so you said the first thing that you could grasp.

“I need time to think.”

You could see your partner’s shoulders sink in disappointment at your answer. You didn’t want to hurt them, the sight of their pain sending a knife into your stomach. If they had asked this question a month ago, your answer would have been a loud and confident yes. Now, when you had experienced the thrill of what things should have felt with them, but with someone else, you weren’t sure.

“I’m not saying no,” you clarified, hoping to ease their pain a bit. “This is a serious decision and I want to be sure before I give you my answer. You mean a lot to me and I want to make sure we make the right decision before we jump into anything.”

That answer seemed to have a more positive effect on them and you could see their spirits lift a small amount as they rose from the kneeled position and closed the box with the ring. You had been so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t even looked at the ring. It could have been the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen and you wouldn’t have known it. 

“I promise that I will think things through,” you said, stepping forward and taking their hands in your own. “You will have your answer before long.”

Meaning what you had promised, you took the steps you needed to come up with the answer to the important question you had been asked. You needed to see if there was a chance to repeat that moment in the bar, to see if that chemistry was indeed there or if you had imagined it. You had asked your friend to look Fives up and they had been able to tell you what unit he served with and through their sources, had learned that the 501st was currently on Coruscant. 

That night, you headed to 79’s to complete your mission. You just had to find Fives and see how things went. If he didn’t remember you or if you didn’t click like you had that first night, you would put the matter to rest. As you made your way in the direction of the bar, a horrible thought crossed your mind.

What if he isn’t even alive anymore?

You knew there were many risks in war and even the most capable soldier could be lost on the battlefield. There was a distinct possibility that Fives was no longer around and all your worrying and searching had been for nothing. The two of you could have simply been two ships passing in the night, crossing paths for a moment, never to meet again.

The moment you crossed the threshold of the bar, your eyes searched the bar for his signature tattoo. You drifted from face to face, all of the identical men blurring together in your desperation. Eventually, you settled on a group in blue and white armor. You searched their faces frantically and found what you were looking for. Standing with another clone with a handprint on the chest plate of his armor, the man you knew to be Echo based on the stories you had heard last time, was Fives.

Just as you found him in the crowd, he turned his gaze in direction and your eyes met across the room. Judging by the surprised raise of his brows, you guessed that he had seen you and recognized you. He lifted his hand to give you a wave, gesturing for you to cross the room to join him. Your heart was in your throat as you pushed through the crowd to his side. Fives smiled at you when you reached him and gestured to you as he spoke to the man beside him.

“This is that girl I was telling you about,” he said. “Isn’t she beautiful?” 

The other clone smiled at you and held out his hand to you. You were so flustered by Fives calling you beautiful again that you nearly missed his attempt to greet you. You learned that it was in fact Echo, just as you had guessed. 

“I think I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” Echo said, moving away from you and Fives. “It was nice to meet you.”

Fives nodded at his brother before turning his full attention to you.

“I told you I’d see you again,” he said with a large grin. “I am surprised to see you here again. Another friend in need of moral support?”

“Actually, I came here to find you,” you said. “I wanted to be sure of something before I made a decision that will change my life forever.”

“Oh really? What did you want to be sure of?”

You couldn’t find the words to answer him. You hadn’t had much more of a plan than to simply find him, not having thought any further than that. For once, you didn’t have a plan. Maybe you could just see him and figure out what to do after that. But, here he stood before you and you had no more answers than you had before you arrived.

“I honestly don’t know,” you said. “There was something…last time I saw you, I felt something that I can’t explain. It’s been driving me crazy for the past month and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Fives’ brow furrowed in confusion, which you didn’t blame him for. Nothing you were saying made sense. You never should have done this.

“I thought you were taken?” he asked. “That’s what you told me. Or was that just a line to get me to leave you alone?”

“It’s complicated…”

“How complicated?” he asked before leaning in to whisper in your ear. “I can deal with complicated.”

You met his eyes and could see something dark hiding behind his questioning gaze. Something that you had seen a glimmer of last time, but had ignored. Something dangerous.

“Why don’t we go somewhere we can talk privately?” he said under his breath.

You nodded and followed his lead when he started walking to a hallway that led to a part of the bar that was much quieter than the main area. He led you to a doorway, which you guessed led to a storage room of some sort. After hesitating for a moment, you followed him in and closed the door behind you.

You leaned back against the door and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You felt your palms sweating from your nerves, so you wiped them on your pants before clenching them at your sides. The feeling of your nails digging into the skin grounded you enough to open your eyes and face the situation at hand.

When you glanced up at Fives, you saw him leaning against the opposite wall. He met your gaze and in the dim light of the room, you could see his expression twisting into one of concern mixed with curiosity.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” he said. “And don’t diminish the importance of what you’re thinking about.”

Steeling your nerves, you set your shoulders and looked him in the eyes as you spoke.

“Last time I saw you, I felt a connection between us,” you said. “It was something that I hadn’t felt in a long time and I couldn’t get you out of my mind for the past month.”

You saw a smirk spread across Fives’ face at your words.

“I’ve been known to have that effect on people,” he said before his smirk shifted into a softer smile. “If it helps, the feeling is mutual. I’ve been thinking about you too.”

That didn’t help, despite what he had said. The fact that your feelings hadn’t been one-sided only made this situation harder. 

“I have someone. Someone good, that has been part of my life for a while now. They’re everything I’ve wanted out of life for as long as I can remember. I have so many plans and they are the key to fulfilling them.”

Fives’ eyebrows rose and the smile faded from his face, replaced by a look of annoyance. 

“And why are you telling me this?”

You took a step closer to him, never looking away from him as you moved.

“Because you are throwing a wrench in those plans. I have my goals within my grasp and something is holding me back. A chance that I may never have again, and I don’t want it to slip past me without knowing what things could be like if I had taken it.”

Fives stepped forward from his position against the wall and closed the distance between you a little more. His eyes drifted down your form before lifting to meet your gaze again.

“So take it,” he said softly. “If it scratches that itch and you can move on to everything you planned, I’d be glad to help you along.”

You didn’t need much more encouragement than that. You took one final step forward and threw your body in his direction. Your arms reached up and wrapped around his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips in a kiss that was both sweet and desperate. His hands found purchase on your waist, holding you in place as he returned the kiss with fervor. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he had wanted to do this since laying eyes on you a month ago.

After a few moments, you pulled away slightly and met his gaze again. The dark look from before had expanded, front and center in his eyes rather than hidden and controlled. The guilt you had felt before about using him for your own fulfillment seemed to evaporate at the sight of the desire within him.

What harm could it do? Scratch that itch and move on with your lives. You’d both be better off in the end, knowing that you hadn’t let this pass you by.

A/N: Give this a like, comment, and reblog and let me know what you think!

Tagging: @trixie2023

[mouser26]

My attempt at a book cover and all the bitching that comes with it

So back in October I of course decided to try to draw a bookcover of sorts for The fanfic No Fate But That Of Which We Make by Skybreakprime based on a scene chosen by the author. Of the two scenes suggested I picked Escaping the Temple from Chapter 1 It had Din, Luke and even Clone Troopers WHat could go wrong?

*laughs in self- criticism, neurospicy, and sabotage* So I of course managed to draw it all and even put it all together cohesively by Oct 16 Then the holidays hit and coloring got put off and put off and put off And then I gave myself a deadline and here we are so sharing the individual parts as a peek behind the Curtain

References

Shout out to The 501st Legion Databank and specifically their Costume Reference Library (Alphabetical Approved) From them I Found excellent references for

Waxer

Boil

Standard Trooper (Shiny)

212th Attack Battalion (Utapau Trooper)

Commander Cody Phase II

Reddit also had These Finely Painted Phase II 212th Battalion Miniatures and The Evolution of 'Din Djarin' The Mandalorian

On top of these I used several action figures from my personal collection and Supar Robo's Review Photos of Hot Toy's Commander Cody

So homework out of the way on to the parts (points if you can actually tell which Clones are which

Part 1

Part 2

Din and Luke

Now here's where I got a lil paranoid because I put so much damn effort into the Clones having their individual touches I didn't want to fuck up the whole thing If I somehow screwed up the metal effect on Din's armor so more copies and coloring tests. I also colored them in their entirety despite knowing someone's bucket would cover a good portion Left is majority Cool Greys with only the occasional Warm or French Right is an attempted color using more Warm Greys mixed with some Cool and French

Ended up going with the left in the end and colored Luke as well

Background

Did I want to do something more detailed? Yeah Did I decide fuckit I just want this done and put all the detail in the doorway? Fuck Yeah

All together We get THE FINAL WORK

So yeah thanks for looking at my Crazy deep dive

Considering commissioning someone to redraw this better

[corellianhounds]

Thanks for The tag buddy!

(And soon I will answer it, 'cause I need to organize my ideas :)

But, The Clone Action Movie Pitch actually got me.

I'm all ears 👀

YESSSS I’m so happy, I was hoping somebody asked about this one! This idea came to me two weeks ago and I’m STOKED (And also I am defo ready to see what you have cooking 👏)

So basically the thought started with the beginning to a familiar action movie setup of a group of guys having to reunite after over a decade because somebody has been coming after the members of their former squad and killing them off one by one, and now they have to get back together for one last job to find out why and put a stop to it. Despite the fact I started writing this with the express purpose of using all sorts of action movie tropes for the formula, there’s still new and fun twists on how they happen because we’ve set it within the world of Star Wars. It’s a good old fashioned action movie, babyyyyy!

It’s also all original characters, which I know may not be some people’s thing, but it means that this is unconstrained by most of canon, in terms of timeline consistency or connections to other properties’ stories. I have plenty of canonical Star Wars elements, but I wanted this to be a case of “Hey do you like Star Wars and don’t want to do any homework to understand what’s happening? Do you like action movies? Come on in!”

—

Taking place ~16 years after the end of the Clone Wars, the story opens with fifteen-year-old Rio and his father living simply in a city on an Outer Rim planet. Most people didn’t know what the clones looked like beyond their armor, and that— along with its owners— was phased out a long time ago. Rio doesn’t know much about his father’s past beyond his own life, but it doesn’t come up in conversation much and Rio doesn’t know of a life any different than the one they’ve always had.

There’s some suspicious activity and murmurings around town, us following Rio through what a normal day should be for him, but as the day draws to a close things start to get more suspicious. His dad, normally a genial and easygoing guy, is strangely quiet and serious, and there’s a moment Rio catches him having some furtive conversation over a comm in the hall; when his dad realizes he’s there he snaps at him to go back to bed.

When Rio’s noticeably caught off guard by his dad’s tone, his dad visibly softens and his shoulders slump, and he goes to him, gently pulling him in to press his forehead to his son’s as he apologizes, asking him more civilly to go upstairs. Rio reluctantly does as he’s told; though his dad outwardly seems much more like his calm self, there’s still something tense about him.

The next day it’s clear there is something going on, the kid seeing people closing up shops, arguments happening in the square, a squad of troopers questioning and harassing people. Rio’s nearly caught up in trouble with the troopers himself before his dad appears out of nowhere and intervenes, making quick work of them before telling him to stay calm and follow his lead, the two of them swiftly making a beeline for their home.

His dad tells him to pack a bag of necessities only, says they’re leaving and they won’t be coming back. Rio, understandably alarmed, desperately follows his dad around the house asking questions, asking what’s going on in town as his dad yanks cords from electrical panels in the walls and burns the databanks on his machines, and the kid’s alarm only heightens as he sees his dad pull burner comms, armor and gear, tools and equipment and weapons he’s never even seen before from hidden compartments all around the house.

His dad hated guns.

When Rio finally stops him and demands to know what’s going on, refusing to budge another inch until he has answers, his father sighs, visibly pained by the anger and distrust on his son’s face.

He takes Rio by the shoulders, gentle despite all that’s happened. “Do you trust me?”

Rio looks doubtful. “… Is the person you are still my father?”

“Yes,” his dad says without a moment of hesitation. “Yes, Rio.”

Rio wavers for a moment, but right now all he sees are the earnest, honest eyes of his dad, and he realizes… Yes. He does trust him.

“… Okay,” Rio says, beginning to help pack gear into a duffel bag. “Let’s go.”

—

The kid doesn’t ask any more questions as they head out of town on foot, not even when gunfire starts up several blocks behind them and people start panicking in the streets. They’re at the edge of town when they hear the first explosion and Rio sees his dad’s resolve harden to determination. An old friend of theirs takes them by speeder outside of town; Rio still doesn’t ask questions when his dad leads him to a ship that’s been hidden and well-maintained for over a decade, and eventually the two of them set out to escape off-planet.

They wait in a remote location for other ships and transports to arrive. Rio sees a number beings exit the ramps; there’s a Pantoran woman in a trench coat with a satchel over one shoulder. A mountain of a man in a motley assortment of layers follows her, wearing a visor and partial face mask, accompanied by a droid. Another pilot lands and immediately hops out from the cockpit, sliding down the ladder as a second man follows. The first looks like a stunt racer, dressed in speederbike leathers and boots. The second man looks like a regular lineman, though with a rifle slung across his and a mask covering his features. The pilot unbuckles the strap of his helmet as he joins them, and something about it looks familiar to Rio.

A real, honest-to-gods Mandalorian appears from behind Rio and his dad from the outcropping they’d met at, either having been there the whole time or somehow managing to creep up on them without notice.

The group convenes in a loose circle, and his father removes his hood.

“Lark,” he says, nodding to the woman. “Gentlemen,” he says to the men. “It’s been a while.”

They all look at each other, noticeably glancing at the kid before he puts a hand on his shoulder and says “Rio. My son.”

Slowly, one by one, all of them remove their helmets and masks, and Rio can’t help but look around the circle in astonishment.

Each man there, every one among them for no discernible reason why or how, shares his father’s face.

WIP Ask Game

[mamuzzy]

These corrie boys arrested me for the serious crime of not drawing them before and they'd promise to let me leave if I give them a body. They LIED. I'm still in my mind-prison. They won't let me leave. They also won't leave. They now live in my head rent-free 0-24. I love drawing armors. I love drawing clones in armors. But not the helmet. And I just realised that the phase I corrie armor is not that decorative or intimidating compared to phase II. Keep reeding if you are interested in these dork OC's mine!

CT-3319 is rather young and his infinite fiery nature radiates to anyone near him, either making them smile at his cadet-energy... or getting slapped into orbit just to fall back and burn in the athmosphere. Thus he gets the name: Blaze. He also set a corrie-speeder on fire once. Blaze: IT. WAS. AN. ACCIDENT. Vorn: You are an accident. Blaze came from a batch that was released before they reached the end of their training on Kamino. Hearing the rumors of the Coruscant Guard before, how the work of their red brothers are undignified and considered shameful comparing the heroic deeds GAR soldiers achieve on daily basis, he was terrified to be assigned to Coruscant, away from his batchers and the promise of glory. It was Vorn (CT-5231), a dutiful soldier of Commander Fox's Department of Planetary Defense, who reluctantly took him under his wings making him Ori'vod to Blaze in the process of integrating the shiny into the daily life of the Guard. But Vorn isn't the easiest to get along with, one of the veterans of Geonosis had an attitude of tiger he got his name of. Fiery, passionate, and claws always ready to slash for his brothers. Nowadays Blaze and Vorn relationships isn't as close as it used to be, given that Blaze has found his place in the Guard due to his friendly and social nature and Blaze would die of embarrassment to call him Ori'Vod again out of affection and adoration. But Vorn won't let him forget where did he come from and teases his "oh-so-grown-up-little-brother" to death every chance he gets. As for the third trooper hanging from the beams... every department of the Guard has its own weirdos (aside from the commanders themselves) and Commander Thorn's Diplomatic Service is not an exception. A sniper, previously served on the frontlines, clearly loves high places. And freaking out his brothers while at it. But Bolt's story is for another day. (The Coruscant Guard doesn't have enough named troopers so I try to help to change this tendecy. Blaze, Vorn, Bolt are all OC's of mine, if you wish to use them please don't forget to credit and @ me so I can see what are these menaces up to! Thank you!)