#please tell me someone else has listened to vode an

[frownyalfred]

me randomly under my breath while writing: koteeeeeeeeeeeee

darasuuuuuum KOTEEEEEEEEEEE

[beckyh2112]

Half-Formed Fic Ideas That Probably Won’t See the Light of Day

Several of these are rooted in @one-real-imonkey‘s fics because they write things that please my brain.

- Very firmly off one of @one-real-imonkey‘s clone time-travel AUs: it’s around ten years after the events of the fic. Jedi Master Plo Koon is paying a visit to Mandelore for Handwave-y Reasons, but mostly so he can check on the Mereel quints and the Fett twins. (He still has no idea why one of the quintuplets latched onto him in particular, but he returns the young man’s caring as best he can.)

Jedi Knights Obi-Wan Kenobi and Quinlan Vos are along for some nice, mostly safe practice diplomacy in front of their padawans. For some (inexplicable to the Jedi) reason, the reaction of four out of five Mereel quintuplets and the blond Fett twin to Padawan Secura is: “Bly is going to hate this.”

(Bly’s reaction is he needs to be on another planet right now, kthx.)

Jango also spends the next several days dealing with Rex’s breakdown over Padawan Skywalker.

- From another of imonkey’s clone time-travel AUs, specifically “A Second Chance, A New Family”: Jango sits with the vode until one of them wakes up. He has a lot of questions about his past now that he’s found out he’s a clone of someone or another.

Rex wakes up first. Rex is Very Confused by a young Jango calling him vod and talking as if he’d been on Kamino with them as another clone. Well, talking as if he’d been somewhere with them as another clone, and that they might have “known him before he was rescued.”

- Based off the general idea of Palpatine secretly restricting the Coruscant Guard’s communications to cut them off with the rest of the GAR. So the Guard thinks they’re sending messages to their non-Guard friends that are getting ignored, and the GAR thinks they’re sending messages to their Guard friends that are getting ignored.

Palpatine’s efforts to isolate the Guard fail to account for the fact Gree is a weird bastard who is good at seeing from other people’s point-of-view. Fox hasn’t responded to any of his messages in the past year, but they’re marked as read? Fox is in charge of defending Coruscant from Separatist threats and doesn’t have transit downtimes like Gree does. Fox never accepts his invites to drink at 79s? The Guard does have to do a lot of military police work with drunken vode, Gree can see Fox not finding 79s relaxing. He’ll bring himself and some booze to Fox. Fox can’t relate to him as a frontline commander and he can’t relate to Fox as Guard commander? Good fucking thing they’ve got other ways to relate to each other. Also, Gree knows how to tell stories that don’t require the listener to have his exact experiences to enjoy them. Why does he put in all of this effort when Fox doesn’t seem to? Friendships take work to maintain, and he’s not going to fault Fox, who is basically always on deployment, having to focus on his duty.

Palpatine actively clouding Gree’s mind so he thinks he’s already visited Fox? Works once, until Barris asks him about his visit with Fox because it’s one of those nice, non-war things she can talk to him about that aren’t just her telling him about her studies. Gree realizes he “forgot”, sets multiple alarms on his next shore leave so he doesn’t get caught up in other things.

Senator being a dick to Guard shinies? Gree is an amateur xenologist and familiar with this particular culture. What said Senator is claiming as an insult is not an insult in their culture. It’s very... Coruscanti of them to find it insulting. (Senators do not appreciate being Judged by clones. Gree does not appreciate people terrorizing shinies. One of them is going to back down, and it sure as shooting isn’t going to be Gree.)

Palpatine rerouting the 41st to have their leave on someplace not-Coruscant and forging the paperwork to make it look like Gree put in the request? “Commander Offee, can you request Commander Tano to check with Commander Fox if he has any requisitions unique to [the planet in question]?” “You want to know if he wants a souvenir.”

Just a mix of Palpatine’s efforts being thwarted because Gree is perfectly willing to give Fox the benefit of the doubt in regards to communications, especially since Fox always seems happy to see him when he comes by the Guard base, and Gree having two Jedi to stumble face-first into Shenanigans as Jedi are wont to do.

- After the Temple bombing arc, Fox shows up at the on-Coruscant GAR barracks with booze. Rex is Not Impressed. Fox didn’t bring it for Rex, so Rex can stay Not Impressed. He brought it for his brother whose baby Jedi just got unmasked as a terrorist willing to frame her best friend.

Gree appreciates the booze, and also Fox’s willingness to get into a knockdown, drag-out fight with him, because no one else will, and he needs some catharsis.

Some ARCs don’t clear the training room they have their fight in when Fox tells them to. Said ARCs come to regret this decision as Fox and Gree use them as obstacles in said knockdown, drag-out fight.

Someone calls one of the other CCs about the time the knives come out, because it looks like Fox and Gree are going to kill each other. (They are not. They are much too good at hand-to-hand to kill another vod without meaning to, and neither mean to.) (They are also being a lot more careful with the knives than it looks like. Frankly, they’re more careful with the hand-to-hand than it looks since neither of them has broken bones.)

- Based off @silverxsakura’s “Your father wants me dead”: Gree gets decapitated by General Yoda during the execution of Order 66. Gree wakes up as a cadet on Kamino with a scar around his neck he definitely never had before, but everyone acts like he’s always had it and are Concerned that he doesn’t remember that. Also, Weird Things keep happening around him.

Fox gets killed by Darth Vader. Fox wakes up as a cadet on Kamino whose temper is a lot more volatile than he remembers it ever being. Also, when he’s really deep in his fury, his eyes turn sulfur-yellow, and Things Happen. The rest of his cadet squad are freaking out that he’s forgotten he has to hide that from the longnecks.

Neither have noticed that Wolffe keeps reaching up to rub a scar he doesn’t have yet.

[clonecest-bin-account]

Can we get some CC Batch (Cody, Wolffe, Fox, Bly, and then whoever else you want if any) just having a boys night and being bros? Good natured teasing and trash talk, maybe some roughhousing, but they're just having a good time and enjoying a break. Your choice on whether or not to include background ships, but if you do I'll request Cody be with Rex. The rest is up to you. Thank you!

(Oooooooh nice! Love me some bros interactions)

It feels surreal having to thank the Seppies for something, but the fact that they aren’t doing much means that, after who knows how long, the entirety of Cody’s batch has been able to meet up and spend some time together on Coruscant, far from the frontlines.

They could’ve gone to 79’s, but for the occasion Fox has invited them to his personal apartment so that they wouldn’t be bothered by loud music and other vode being dumb.

 “Fox, you lucky asshole, of course you’d get the nice apartment,” Wolffe grumbles before finishing his fifth - is it fifth already? - glass of wine. At least Fox has had the decency to bring out the good stuff for the occasion.

“Listen, I have to deal with Senators all day, I get the apartment,” Fox retorts, and well, nobody has it in themselves to deny that.

“Yeah, I think I’d rather shoot droids than exchange even just one conversation with a Senator,” Ponds states. He looks drowsy already, though it’s also true that, out of them, he’s the one with the worst alcohol tolerance.

“So, Fox…” Bly interjects before the conversation gets derailed. “Any hot gossip?” He usually isn’t the gossip type, none of them are, but it’s nice indulging once in a while. Besides, Fox always has the best information to share, which can make the evening even more entertaining.

“Well, I know for a fact that someone in this room finally gathered the courage to ask out a certain Captain…” Fox drawls, purposefully leaving the sentence open-ended.

 Silence falls.

Slowly, one by one, they all turn to look to a certain Marshal Commander who’s being suspiciously quiet right now, as he drinks his wine pretending that this isn’t about him…

Then chaos erupts.

Screams, questions, hands, everything gets thrown at Cody who, in that moment, is really close to murdering his brother. Not that he wasn’t going to tell them eventually, but he would’ve done it at his own time!

Damn it, Fox.

 Before he can react, Ponds has slung his arm around his shoulders. “Cody! When were you going to tell us?!” he exclaims.

Cody pretends to laugh, though it’s obvious that he doesn’t really mean it. “When I damn pleased, Ponds,” he replies in fact, though his annoyed tone doesn’t seem to make the others back down. If anything, it provokes their general hilarity.

“Aw, little Kote thinks he can play the part of the big boy now…” Wolffe mocks him, reaching with his hand to pinch his cheek. He gets his fingers bitten in response. “Ow! You dick!”

Cody smirks, proud of having gotten Wolffe using his own methods against him, though unfortunately, that pisses Wolffe enough that he almost jumps at him, if not for the fact that Fox, who always somehow seem to know what their next move his, holds him back by the shoulder.

“Come now,” Bly says, trying to placate him. “We should congratulate Cody, not trying to kill him…”

“He bit me!” Wolffe retorts.

“And it was funny,” Bly says back, completely unbothered by Wolffe’s anger - it’s nothing far from the usual.

 Cody and Wolffe glare at each other just for another while before peace is restored.

Once things have calmed down, Cody turns to Fox. “How did you even know me and Rex are together now?”

Fox doesn’t even bat an eye at that question. “I saw you.”

“You saw me?!”

“Well, not directly, but one of my probe droids caught you confessing to Rex,” Fox explains. “Gotta say, Coruscant’s roofs during twilight, soft drinks in hand? That was so cheesy…”

There are many things that Cody would like to say, but they all get covered up by the others who begin to either laugh at him - he swears he’s going to beat Wolffe’s ass - and others that instead say that it’s cute. Still… “Do you have probes stalking us, Fox?” he can’t help but to ask. Talk about creepy…

The other rolls his eyes at that accusation, sipping some wine before replying. “It was just a coincidence that they caught you. I have probes through the entire city. How am I supposed to know if something happens then?”

Oh, well, that makes sense. Still, it’s quite curious that he managed to find out just out of luck, though it’s not like Cody can make an accusation without any proof. Maybe it was truly just a huge coincidence.

 Take it to Ponds to get the pleasant evening back on track before it degenerates into a brawl. “Well, at this point, why don’t we toast?”

“And to what?” Wolffe asks, while Fox already motions to fill everyone’s glass - he doesn’t really need an excuse to drink some more, so he doesn’t even wait for Ponds to reply.

“To Cody and Rex of course,” Ponds explains, taking his glass and raising it towards Cody. “May you two be happy forever and ever.”

One by one the others raised their glasses towards Cody as well, who can only stare at them with a surprised look on his face. What the hell are they doing? This is such a cheesy thing… and yet, it’s also heartwarming. Not that he doubted the fact that, deep down, his brothers love him - that’s how things are between them - but to have them genuinely wishing him and Rex the best is just…

 Damn it Cody, don’t cry for this dumb thing, or everyone will be on your case!

 Still, he can’t help but to smile as well, as he wordlessly raises his glass as well.

“To Cody and Rex!” Ponds exclaims then.

“To Cody and Rex!” the others all reply, while Cody is barely able to thank them. It’s a small thing, in the end, but those are what truly matters the most, at least that’s what Cody thinks.

 He’s well aware that soon they’ll get back to banter and insulting each other, but at least for now he can enjoy a soft moment between him and the people he loves the most.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tag list: @maulusque​ @snap-p​ @menac-ika @captainrexwouldnever  If you want to be added feel free to let me know! Just know that if you are a minor you’ll be tagged only for the sfw fics.

[sharkbait-writes]

To say Monnk loved his missions would be a lie. But so would be saying he hated them. He enjoyed them, he really did. But like everything, there were disadvantages.

And sometimes, he was just too tired to deal with everything that came after.

Monnk made his way to his room, his heavy eyelids falling shut on their own accord too often.

Coming to a stop in front of his room, he yawned before opening it and going straight to the fresher, leaving his armor and blacks in a track.

After he finished showering and put all his stuff back, he blindly grabbed for his brush. Squinting his eyes open, he stared at himself in the mirror.

Raising his brush slowly, his hand practically fell on his head, the brush tumbling its way down the back of his head.

With a heavy sigh, Monnk lifted his hand again,

Or at least tried to.

The mission had been hard. Too long and too much destruction. All Monnk had wanted to do after finishing the mission was to fall into his bed. But that wouldn’t happen until he brushed his hair.

But he was just so tired.

Fortunately for him, his decision was taken out of his hands. Quite literally as well.

Monnk heard a knock on his door, but didn’t had any energy left except to lift his head a tiny amount and keep his eyes open.

“Monnk?”, and there came the familiar voice of his general. Just what he needed for tonight.

Quickly waking himself up, he put his brush on the sink and walked out of the fresher.

Coming face to face with Kit Fisto, Monnk saluted him, “General.”

“At ease, commander”, Fisto waved his hand in a dismissive motion, “I came to you tonight as a friend.”

Monnk stared at Fisto.

Their relationship outside of work was something Monnk still struggled to explain to his batchmates. It was different  -but not in a bad way. Monk could be just himself then, without putting his commander front up -or at least, to some margin.

He enjoyed his general’s presence. But when it was time for sleep, they always went their separate ways.

Unlike now, apparently.

“Well then. How can I help you?”, Monnk cocked his head to the side. Almost like an afterthought he added “Kit?”.

At that, Fisto smiled his blinding trademarks smile.

“I was hoping I could enjoy your presence this lovely night.”

Fisto wasn’t wrong about it being a lovely night. It was quieting down, most of the vode already asleep. However, the view was the same as always, when one is traveling at the speed of light.

Monnk raised a judgmental brow.

Fisto’s smile wavered a bit.

It never sat right with Monnk to see that smile grumbling off the handsome face. Especially when it was because of him.

But before he could say anything, his general beat him to it.

“You caught me. It was mostly a cover to make sure you are alright. I did see you getting attacked, but unfortunately couldn’t talk to you after. But I do want to spend my night with you”, he chuckled at the beginning, but quickly got serious.

His general was now staring Monnk in the eyes, expecting an answer.

Since it now was so quiet, Monnk started to feel his tiredness creep up again. But he didn’t want to say no to Fisto.

Sighing, Monnk answered, “I’m alright, Kit. I was about to head to bed, but you can still come in and talk with me for a while.”

He hoped he gave Fisto a reassuring smile, but it felt more nervous than anything else.

A that, Fisto looked concerned.

“If you say so. But please, tell me when you want me to leave.”

Monnk gave a tired chuckle. He wasn’t so sure if he would. On one hand, Fisto was still his superior and a jedi, which meant telling him to leave -or just whatever he wanted to in general- still felt weird. On the other hand, he genuinely didn’t want Kit to leave in the first place -his presence was calming.

He left the door open and walked into the fresher, hearing the door closing and quiet footsteps follow him.

The footsteps stopped and when Monnk looked in the mirror, he saw his general sitting on his bed, slightly grimacing as nothing happened to the mattress when he sat down.

Monnk chuckled.

His general’s eyes locked onto his in the mirror in a heartbeat. Big and dark, entire galaxies could be seen in them.

Feeling a blush creeping up his neck and face, Monnk gulped and teared his eyes away and focused back on his task at hand.

Right, brushing his hair.

With a heavy hand he took a hold of his brush, but instead of raising it to his head, he just stared at it.

Apparently for much longer than he assumed, as suddenly Fisto’s hands were engulfing his own and a concerned face peered down at him.

“Monnk? Are you sure you’re alright?”, Kit murmured in a quiet tone, his eyes large in worry.

“M’m. M’ j’s’ t’r’d”, Monnk’s eyes slowly fell shut, his heavy head falling to the side, only to be stopped by Fisto’s chest.

“Then it is time to go to bed. C’mon.”

Fisto already put the brush back on the sink and now held his commander’s hands in his own again, ready to lead him to his bed.

But Monnk shook his head.

“-c’mb m’ h’r f’rst”, it was rather hard to understand all the mumbling against his chest, but due to his commander’s eyes sliding over to the brush, Kit was able to decipher it.

He grabbed the brush and held it out for his commander to take, who didn’t seem to realize what was even happening anymore, if his closed eyes and half-asleep state was telling him anything through the force. There were other emotions and feelings floating in the force from his commander. Kit didn’t want to think about what they meant.

Kit shook his commander’s shoulders, but only receives a tired humming sound. When he did it again, eyes finally opened.

He showed his commander his brush with a confused look.

But Monnk only stared at it for a few seconds, then stubbornly moved his head, so his face was fully smushed against the chest of his general, eyes falling shut from the comforting and repetitive motion of a rising and falling chest.

Leaving his general with no idea what to do next.

Kit moved to the side, towards the bed, but Monnk refused to walk with him, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him back.

Doing anything else didn’t seem to make Monnk happy as well if the grumpy tones coming from him told him anything.

That meant only one thing to do.

Kit raised the brush and slowly started to make his way through the commander’s short hair with it. It didn’t reach his jawline, but still grew over his ears. The constant exposure to warm air and water curling his hair even more than it naturally already was.

Not that Kit minded, it has been a long time since he brushed a friend’s hair. War didn’t leave for much downtime, even with his friends around.

Apparently, it was the right call, as Monnk somehow relaxed even more against his chest.

But having short hair made for a short brushing-time and in less than a minute Kit was already putting the brush back. Even if he took as much time as appropriate, being careful and relaxing himself while doing so.

Kit then kept one arm over his commander’s shoulders, while the other held Monnk’s hand. He carefully tugged him along - making sure his commander would stay in his almost-asleep state and not wake up- where he then laid him down on his bed, tucking the covers over the sleeping commander.

Turning around to walk to the door, it caught Kit by surprise when a hand enclosed on his wrist, successfully stopping him.

Turning around, he saw Monnk peeking out from under the covers, his hand in his wrist.

“Stay”, it wasn’t a question or sleepy rambling. It was a simple request, one that Kit gladly followed.

He kneeled down next to the bed and played a little with Monnk’s hair, brushing it behind his ears.

Giving him a small smile, he whispered, “I’ll be right there”, and switched off all the lights. He then crawled his way under the blankets as well.

It seemed Monnk had gotten used to his hard and stiff mattress and thin covers. But Kit hadn’t and the blankets were too small for someone over six feet tall.

So, Kit made himself smaller, tucking himself together. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a lot of space for two people on a bed made for one, which meant that even if Kit didn’t want to, Monnk still woke up from him moving around and instantly knew why.

“You know sir, you can come closer, I don’t bite. Don’t want you to fall of the bed or freeze to death.”

A small chuckle was the only answer he got and Monnk closed his eyes again.

After an uncomfortable while, Kit decided to listen to Monnk and slid closer. While he wouldn’t be falling of the bed anytime soon, it still wasn’t safe or warm enough.

That was when Monnk, his face smushed against his pillow, moved his head slightly to the side to open an eye and glare at him.

Kit only gave an embarrassed smile.

Monk snorted and rolled his eyes, moving closer to the wall and held out an arm.

At Kit’s confused look he answered, “My vode and I cuddle all the time on these narrow beds. The only difference to you is that you’re way to kriffin tall. But we can work with that”, that was accompanied by a grin.

So, Kit moved closer and Monnk turned onto his side, curling himself together to fit under Kit’s chin. The nautolan’s arms automatically made their way around the clone’s body to hold him closer. One hand going into his hair to caress it, the other tracing the tattooed back, identical to his armor.

Monnk immediately fell asleep. But Kit couldn’t yet.

There was so much contentment in the force. The last time Kit felt that amount was around other jedis, but since he neither had a padawan nor anyone to work with often, he didn’t feel it a lot anymore. The clones had their basic shielding, but there was only so much non-force sensitives could do. With time it got a little lonely for Kit, but now. Now, with him holding Monnk in his arms, one of them asleep, the other well on their way to follow the other, it didn’t feel like that.

The only thing it felt like, was rightness.

Finally feeling warm and cozy, and not falling of the bed anytime soon, Kit fell asleep as well.

[wanderinginksplot]

Commander

Kind of a cheat day cross-post from fanfiction.net. One-shot about the word ‘commander’ and all the things it has meant to Rex over the years. Written before the final season of Clone Wars premiered, so don’t roast the details I didn’t get right!

It started as a simple word, one mentioned during flash training as part of a long list of ranks in the military. If he had any true association with it, it was only that it seemed far from his reach, but CT-7567 - or Rex, as he soon became known - was filled with determination. Someday, he wouldn't in flash training or on Kamino. He wouldn't be a shiny anymore. He would be a real soldier, and after that...

Commander.

…

As he worked his way through the ranks of the Grand Army of the Republic, 'Commander' no longer seemed like an unattainable goal. His first few battles had brought him acclaim, set him apart from the identical mass of his vode, and he had not allowed that recognition to fade in the following missions. Instead, he was steadily gaining ground on the rank. If he managed to survive a few more battles with the clankers, it would be a reality.

Commander Rex had a nice ring to it.

…

"Okay, men," General Skywalker began, pacing back and forth in front of his troops. The Jedi seemed to always be in motion. At first meeting, Rex had believed it to be a case of nerves, but after spending only a few minutes in Skywalker's presence, he knew better. The General wasn't constantly moving because he needed to work off nervous energy, but because he could scarcely hold himself in check. He was just that ready to tackle their next mission, as shown by his speech: "Taking Christophsis from the Separatists isn't gonna be easy, but the GAR chose us above all the other planetary landing battalions. Let's prove 'em right."

Not much of a speech, all things considered, but it did the trick for the men of the 501st. Even the inter-HUD chatter moved from anxious questions to confident bets on who could dismantle the most clankers. Rex shifted to the balls of his feet, squaring his shoulders. His men would take out as many clankers as they could, but he intended to best them all. If this mission was a success, the rank of commander was all but guaranteed to him. Skywalker had promised before the assignment was even handed down that a well-handled battle would be enough to give Rex that much-desired promotion.

Commander.

...

He had done everything right. Though it had broken something inside of him, Rex had arrested his vod, Slick, for conspiring against the GAR - the Republic as a whole, really - and what had it gotten him? The same title he'd had before, but with an added responsibility.

A kid.

Inside his helmet, HUD transmission firmly shut down for the moment, Rex let fly several curses in guttural Mando'a. Who thought it was a good idea to send a kid - a completely green kid at that - out into battle? The kriffin' Jedi, apparently.

She would be good for the General, as long as she didn't get herself blown up by rushing into a battle the way she had into the meeting with her Master. The first thing Jedi Padawan Ahsoka Tano had done after stepping off her transport was give Skywalker an insulting nickname. Strange kid, especially for someone who belonged to an order he had been told was filled with stuffy, rule-obsessed wizards. Maybe the Jedi couldn't handle the energy and pawned her off on the first person who needed a Padawan.

But then, the 501st was filled with misfits and oddities. The General himself was filled with so many attachments that Rex was shocked the Jedi didn't ban him from speaking to any being across the galaxy. All things considered, Padawan Tano was better suited to Torrent Company than any other division.

Yes, she would be good for the newly-christened Skyguy, and for the men as well. He had already noticed an improvement in attitude with the addition of her confident and curious nature to their already… eclectic battalion. If she stayed, and he believed she would, Padawan Tano would become the new commander of the 501st. He couldn't bring himself to dislike the kid, either. He was a clone, and that meant he had a clear expiration date. A title as important as 'commander' should belong to someone with a little more staying power. He was disappointed, but the best way he could serve his general and his men was by helping the Togrutan female acclimate to her new position as painlessly as possible. Lives depended on it.

…

Rex was tired beyond any post-battle weariness he had ever experienced before. The Kaminoans had warned the clones during flash training, told them about the effects of mental warfare, but he had never believed that it could take such a toll. The effort of keeping Asajj Ventress from mind-tricking him into betraying his General and soon-to-be Commander had taken a toll. He was wracked with such intense fatigue that his muscles literally shook with the effort of standing.

Numbly, he set a course for his bunk aboard the Resolute. He had never believed so completely that his life had come to an end as when Ventress had held him at the end of her red lightsabers.

"..ex? Captain? Captain!"

Rex dimly became aware that someone had been calling after him for a few minutes, but it had never broken through the fog in his mind. With the weariness in his entire being, Rex was slow to turn and slower to salute. "Commander Tano."

She pulled a face, the markings on her cheeks and forehead moving oddly with the expression. "Please don't call me that, Captain. I'm a Padawan, not a commander."

"With respect, sir, if you choose to stay with General Skywalker, you're both."

She blinked at him and the sight of her eyes closing made his own ache all the more fiercely. "Did you need something, Commander?"

"Yes, Captain. I need to speak with you about your run-in with Ventress."

"I will record every detail in my initial report, which will be filed tomorrow, well within GAR guidelines."

Commander Tano frowned. "That's not what I meant. I want- I need for you to know that it was me. I'm the reason we didn't come back to save you from Ventress right away. I insisted that we save Stinky- I mean, Rotta. I made Skyguy stick with our mission and you almost died. A lot of men did die. He would have given up on everything else to come back and so many men would still be here. It's my fault. I just- I'm sorry."

The fog cleared from his head slightly, enough that he could stare at the Padawan. The Commander, he reminded himself. It was clear that the guilt was eating her alive. She had just come to the front lines, come from a life on Coruscant where clones were regarded as little more than droids made of flesh and blood. Why should she feel guilty?

"Listen, kid," he said gruffly, and her eyes lit with a spark of hope at the nickname. "That's why I think you're good for the General. He cares about his men and we respect him for it, but this is a war. The mission comes first, always, and if you had come back for us, the sluglet may have died and then where would we be?" Her lips quirked up and his did the same in reply. "It's a tricky balance to keep, but maybe working together will help both of you."

Those blue eyes began to shine and Rex fervently prayed to every god he could think of that she wouldn't cry. The Kaminoans had no flash training covering how to deal with a crying female. Thankfully, her voice was even when she spoke. "Thank you, Captain."

"You can call me Rex, sir," he offered, holding his hand out for her to shake. "Seems like we'll be working together for a while." She didn't move, staring at his hand instead. He softened his tone a bit before adding, "I hope so, anyway."

She smiled broadly at that and grasped his hand for a clumsy shake. "I hope so too." The silence threatened to grow awkward, but she dropped his hand and took a step back. "I'll let you get some sleep now. Thanks again, Rex."

Rex nodded and continued to his quarters. Maybe Commander Tano wouldn't be so bad after all.

...

"Did you see that, Rex?" the Commander asked excitedly, swiping dirt from her face with her forearm. "I took down three droids at once!"

"Yes, but you almost missed the one aiming at your back," Rex reminded, pausing in cleaning his deeces to make the point.

Far from discouraged, she only grinned saucily at him. "That's what I have you back there for."

Rex shook his head despairingly, but they both knew he was amused by her antics. General Skywalker's busy schedule and... ahem, involved battle plans often left the two working together and he had grown to respect Commander Tano's work ethic, spirited behavior, and caring nature. Her boundless energy made her exhausting to be around at times, but there was no one he would rather have at his back.

When had that happened?

"In all seriousness, little'un, that was some nice work. You're definitely getting better."

She sighed, growing visibly frustrated under the praise - an odd reaction for the flamboyant Togruta. "Could you tell Skyguy that? I've been asking him to let me dual-wield forever, but he says I haven't even mastered one blade yet."

"I'll talk to him, kid, but I know less about lightsabers than either of you. If you ever want to work on dual blasters, though…" He finished re-assembling his blaster and raised his eyebrows, pausing as if to offer her the weapon.

The Commander laughed. "I think I had better figure out the Jedi weapon before I try to branch out into clone territory."

"Fair enough," Rex conceded, tucking the blaster in his empty hip holster. "I have to go work on my reports. See you later, Commander."

"I've told you a thousand times; call me Ahsoka!" she called after him and Rex grinned, confident she couldn't see him. No matter how much she hated the formality, dropping distance between a commanding officer and their subordinate was always a bad idea.

He hadn't been lying; she was indeed improving quickly. Frighteningly so, in fact. The young Padawan had adjusted so thoroughly to her reckless master that General Kenobi seemed prone to a fit, but no one could deny their effectiveness. The 501st was being sent on more missions than they ever had before and - though some of the other legions mocked them for answering to a teenager - Rex could see the pride his men felt for their pair of Jedi. It was a pride he felt himself.

And with a sigh of regret for the late night that would be required to finish his reports, Rex performed a quick about-face and went in search of General Skywalker. Surely it couldn't hurt to let the kid dual-wield under the watchful eye of her master?

...

"How long until it's fully healed, Kix?" Rex asked, pacing the floor until he was shocked he hadn't worn a path through the durasteel.

Kix answered belatedly, his entire attention focused on tucking in the ends of the gauze he had placed over the bacta patch on Commander Tano's arm. "Rough-edged cut, worryingly deep, significant burns and bruising on the surrounding skin. With the bacta? Probably a standard week or so."

"A week?" the commander groaned, disbelieving. "Maybe Barriss will agree to practice her force-healing on me. I need to be at peak performance for our next mission."

"You won't be-" Rex snapped before remembering that the girl outranked him. "Commander, you cannot seriously intend to come with us on that mission. You're injured."

"It's a scratch, Rex," she disagreed.

"I have to side with the captain on this one," Kix interjected. "A fraction deeper and this injury could have severed a number of tendons in your arm. Even Jedi have trouble healing from that."

"But it wasn't deeper," Ahsoka pointed out. "And I'm leading half the 501st when we attack the Seppie facility. If I don't go on this mission, Skyguy and Master Kenobi will have to create an entirely new plan of attack."

Kix shot Rex a sympathetic glance and packed his equipment. It was Kix's medical bay, but they both knew Rex wasn't going to let this go and the resulting argument could last for hours.

When the clone medic had safely fled the medbay, Rex turned to Ahsoka, knowing that his expression was dark but unable to change it. "Commander, we need to talk about the risk you took out there."

Ahsoka glanced up from her arm, narrowing her eyes already. "It's the same risk all of us take every day: step on the battlefield, fight as well as you can, and if you get the chance to save someone else, do it."

Rex had to admire how she came at him full-force. The kid she had been when she first joined the 501st would have feigned ignorance for a while before finally conceding to his point. The little'un had grown, and it was clear her argument was already planned out and locked down.

Doggedly, he continued undaunted. "You aren't supposed to take the same risks as the rest of us. The Jedi are leaders-"

"Yes," she interrupted, "and the Jedi - the ones attached to the 501st, anyway - lead by example. It's the Jedi standard."

"That may be so, but it's a bad battlefield practice. The heads of the chain of command have to stay alive long enough to formulate changes in plan or coordinate the attack efforts. We can't have you risking yourself for a single man."

"Rex, do you know why Skyguy trusts you so much?"

It was an odd change in conversational topic, but Rex was curious about where she was leading. "Because I've never failed him."

"Well, yes, but also because you've proven that you can think on your feet. My Master and I both have total confidence that, if we both fell, you would be able to 'formulate changes in plan or coordinate the attack efforts'."

Rex grimaced at having his words parroted back at him. "Even if that were true, how many men do you think would keep fighting after you or the General fell? Some would fight harder, maybe, but a lot of them would lose hope altogether. You are our leaders and we respect you too much to allow you to risk your lives without protest."

She stared at him, unimpressed. "Give me the name of a single 501st soldier who hasn't risked his life to help another man."

"That isn't the point, sir. No one is ever expected to enter a situation where they have little chance of surviving. The point is to reduce casualties, not trade lives."

To his surprise, Ahsoka laughed. "Rex, I've seen you sprint through Seppie fire to retrieve men who didn't think they were going to live. And you did it without any backup. Face it, I did what any soldier would do. The only difference is that I'm a Jedi, so my man-saving reach is a little longer than yours."

He would have dropped it, he really would have, but Ahsoka tried to cross her arms and stopped with a stifled gasp and a muscle spasm he knew had to be involuntary. In his mind's eye, he watched as she began to dismantle a super battle droid. Swinging in from the side, she had neatly sliced off both of the SBD's forearm blasters and was ready to put a saber through its head to fry the programming when Skid stumbled in their path. The droid, malicious in its own mindless, drone-like way, reached to attack him with what remained of its arms, but Ahsoka had stepped in the way first. She had blocked one arm, but the other swung in unnoticed. Not only had the jagged metal sliced deeply into her arm, but the metal still glowed red-hot from the blade of her lightsaber.

Rex had shot the super battle droid before it could do any further damage, but the smell of Ahsoka's burning flesh still haunted him, as did the cry she let out when the droid fell, ripping away the metal that had already fused to her skin. He had called Kix through his HUD system, but the young Jedi was already sprinting away, performing ridiculous and graceful acrobatics as she mowed a path through the droid army. Instead, Rex had only put the medic on standby for when the battle ended or the commander collapsed, whichever happened first.

"Commander… Ahsoka," he altered when she didn't respond to her rank. When her gaze met his own, he said sternly, "We need you and the General out there too much to allow you to take risks like that."

"Skid would be dead if I hadn't gotten in the way," she returned immediately. "A cut and some burns are worth it if it means our men survive."

Our men. Rex wanted to be angry. He had certainly been livid on the field at Ahsoka's reckless disregard for her own well-being, but he understood her reasons. Ahsoka Tano had built a reputation as a Jedi who fights for and alongside her men and - though she took some terrible risks for their sake - they would all cheerfully die for her in return.

Rex sighed, eyeing the confrontational tilt to Ahsoka's chin. "Just- promise me you'll be careful."

She smiled, gratitude and affection glowing in her eyes. "Oh, Rexster, when am I anything else?"

...

Commander Rex.

What had once sounded promising, sounded right, now made something inside of him ache until he never wanted to hear it again. Above all else, Rex was a soldier and that meant going, doing, and living as he was told. He had no say in the actions of his superiors, that was perfectly obvious, or Commander Tano would never have been accused, or tried, or found guilty and expelled. She never would have left and she wouldn't be off in the cold galaxy without him - without anyone - to watch her back. If he had his way, things would never have gone so terribly wrong.

He could still remember with aching clarity how his stomach had dropped after General Skywalker had gone to support Commander Tano in her appearance before the Jedi Council, the one after Barriss had been accused and found guilty. The general had confided in Rex that Ahsoka had been cleared of all charges and would be allowed to return to the Jedi Order. He had said, pride in his voice, that this would likely be considered her trials and she would be with them only briefly before she would be made a Jedi Knight and given her own company.

Rex had immediately formulated a plan to transfer into her company. Even after all that had happened, there was no Jedi he would rather serve under.

But the general had not returned with a bright-smiling Padawan behind him. Rather, he had stormed past Rex initially. Only Rex's confused, "Sir?" gained his attention.

"It's your lucky day, Rex. Looks like I can promote you to Commander after all."

That was it. There had been no further mention of Ahsoka, though her Padawan beads had dangled from General Skywalker's fist as he strode back toward the Jedi Temple. It had taken only hours for the 501st to learn the full story, as clones were trained to horde information and most had become terrible gossips.

'Commander' had become a haunted word since then. It had been two standard weeks since they were called back to Coruscant and told they were receiving mandatory planet-side duties while they processed the loss of their commander. In that time, the men actively avoided talking about her or even mentioning the rank, several conversations halting mid-stream as they remembered Ahsoka's involvement. Several of the men, Rex included, suffered even more because they knew the feisty commander so well and never had the chance to say goodbye.

"Rex?" General Skywalker asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the armrests of the well-padded chair Rex kept on the other side of his desk.

Rex shook his head, half to bring himself back to the moment and half in answer to the general's question. "I'm sorry, sir. I can't accept it. I- I would rather remain a captain for now."

Skywalker bowed his head briefly in acceptance. "I understand. You do know that this leaves an open position in the 501st?"

"I do, sir. If you decide to take another Padawan, I'll be happy to serve under them as a captain."

The general snorted, seeming in a lighter mood than he had been since Ahsoka left. "I don't think the Jedi Council wants me to take another Padawan just yet, especially considering how well I handled the last one."

"Comman- Ahsoka," Rex corrected himself, "was never one to be pushed into doing what she didn't think was right. She left because she has things to figure out, but you took her on when no one else even wanted to try. She never forgot that and I doubt she ever will. If your Padawan thinks you were a great Master, what does it matter what the Jedi Council believes?"

General Skywalker remained silent for so long that Rex began to worry he had spoken out of turn, but eventually, his gaze rose to meet Rex's. "I won't be taking another Padawan, Rex. I also won't be taking applications for a commander from another unit. If and when you want the position, it's yours. For now, the 501st doesn't need a new commander."

Rex nodded slowly and the general excused himself shortly afterward, leaving the clone captain to his thoughts. It was fitting in a way, he thought with a touch of amusement. He had waited so long, pushed so hard, all for a promotion he ended up refusing when it was offered. It was only sheer luck that he had a general who understood.

Rex had meant what he said; he wasn't ready to be a commander right now, not when the wound from Ahsoka's departure still ached.

Commander Rex would have to wait.

…

"Commander?"

Though it broke half of the regs he had drilled into his men, Rex tore off his bucket to stare at the flickering, bluish image of Ahsoka. She didn't disappear with his movement, instead giving him a ghost of the mischievous smile she had worn on a regular basis during her time with the GAR.

"Hello, Rex. I need to speak with Mas- with General Skywalker."

"I'll call him," Rex volunteered immediately.

Confusion crossed Ahsoka's matured face, framed by her more pronounced montrals and lekku. "Can't you just patch the transmission through to him? I don't have much time."

"Sorry, sir," he said, more out of habit than anything. "New regs."

"I understand. Would it be easier for me to contact you again in an hour?"

"No, transmissions are a little spotty here. Better that you just continue transmitting and hold the connection until the General can get here."

Rex hurriedly turned to the nearest vod he could find and signaled him to call the General. From the look on the man's face, he was dying to ask why Rex had lied about new regulations, but wouldn't do so in front of someone he wasn't sure was trustworthy. It was for the best anyway. Rex couldn't really tell a shiny that he only wanted to keep Ahsoka online so that he could be in her presence, even just over a hololink.

Besides, he reasoned, if Ahsoka was calling now, after all this time, it meant she needed something. He wasn't going to risk the general saying no. If Skywalker refused his former Padawan whatever she needed, Rex would help her himself. If he patched the transmission through to the main bridge of the Resolute, he would never know why she had called or what the general had said in response.

In any case, he felt a rare, blissful sense of serenity talking to Ahsoka. If she was here, the part of him that never stopped worrying about her safety could relax. It was a welcome break from the worry.

All too soon, his wrist communicator chimed. "Generals Kenobi and Skywalker incoming, Captain."

Rex frowned slightly but tried to keep the expression from lingering on his face. "The General will be here momentarily, Commander."

Ahsoka smiled slightly at that, but he didn't care for the expression - rather than the pure joy that had radiated from her even during the darkest of battles, her smile was now tinged with a grim sort of cynicism. "I'm not a commander anymore, Rex. I'm only surprised Skyguy didn't make you take the rank as soon as I left."

With a careless shrug, Rex drawled, "I like being a captain. Less responsibility. You know how I am under pressure."

"You mean rock-steady?" Ahsoka retorted with a lighter sort of smile. "You're the best man I know in a rough situation."

"I suggest you don't tell the General that when he gets here. Next thing you know, he'll be finding us a rough situation or two to prove himself…" Ahsoka laughed outright at that and the sound soothed Rex's frayed nerves. "And the reason I'm not lobbying for a promotion is because there is none to be had. The 501st already has a commander."

A furrow appeared between Ahsoka's white brow markings as she mused his words. "Who could be more worthy of the position than you, Rex? You're the best soldier I know!" Her offense on his behalf nearly made him smile, but Rex fought back the expression in case she mistook his next words as anything less than the solemn truth.

"It's you, Ahsoka. You may not be a commander for the GAR anymore, but you'll always be our commander."

Her montrals darkened but her eyes lit up with gratitude.

"All right, Rex," General Skywalker said impatiently, stepping through the door with General Kenobi in tow. "What's so important that you brought us all the way back here?"

Ahsoka turned in the holoimage, glancing back at the two new arrivals. "Hello, master. It's been a while."

It was lucky that the General was so focused on the image of his former Padawan, because Rex couldn't fight the smirk that flitted across his face. The Commander always did like to make a scene and he was glad he hadn't missed it, but he shouldn't have worried. From the look on the General's face, Ahsoka would get whatever she needed from the 501st.

---

A/N - cross-posted as-is, no major edits made. If you liked it, consider reblogging or leaving a comment?

[xwingsandlaserswords]

Here’s my entry for Day 1 of @codywanweek . Special thanks to @wolftank462 ​ for collabing with me today! 

Cross posted on AO3

It’s hard to miss something that's always by your side. 

Cody stared ahead and breathed in. He missed the times when a breath didn’t involve a calculated plan. The bacta on his chest was uncomfortable and sticky. His lungs were on fire. He’d been injured before, but never like this. Rex was right: getting shot in the chest hurt like hell. 

He was lucky to be alive, the medic told him. Cody has never felt lucky after battles like these. His life was no more valuable than any other clone's… than any of his vod's .  They may share the same features, blood and heart, but they don't share the same mind, or beliefs, or likes or dislikes or scars or experiences or trauma or-

They all know what's at stake: they were born to fight and bred to win. They live so long as the Republic stands. No clone is foolish enough to think he is more than the cause. It doesn't take away the fact they are human. His vode is composed of unique individuals who share the same eyes but use them in different ways. 

Cody shut his eyes, centering himself. He slowly took a larger breath. The bacta didn't prevent the twinge of discomfort. Cody focused on breathing instead of the memory of a lightsaber going straight through Shield's head. 

Rex was right about the pain. Cody would never admit that to the captain. 

The tent moved slightly, allowing someone to enter. Cody was not concerned; he would know that light tread anywhere. It's a blessing and a curse that Cody can read his surroundings like a book. He listened as the man walked around the tent. It was obvious he was moving slower than usual: his footsteps carried more weight; his breathing was irregular. 

Cody opened an eye slightly to see a worse for wear General Kenobi going through the medical bags. He hadn't seen the other man since the briefing. It wasn't unusual to be separated during battle, but on days like these Cody regrets it. It's his duty to protect his general as much as it is to bring peace to the Republic. Clones exist to aid their Jedi; there is no place Cody would rather be than with his. 

It's obvious that the general engaged in a lightsaber duel. From the way he favours his right side and grimaces when he bends down, Cody infers he fought Grievous (how did that happen- the bastard wasn't even supposed to be there). He must have also fought something else: it's unlikely the makeshift bandage on the General's arm was the result of a lightsaber. Was he stabbed? Shot? Worse? 

Cody shut his eye again and breathed in slowly. There was no use in worrying further. Obi-Wan was alive and well enough to stand. In times like these, that's all he can really ask for. 

"Glad to see you alive, Sir," Cody said quietly. His… everything protested speaking. He tried to suppress the wince that followed. 

He didn't need to look: he could picture the sad smile on Obi-Wan's face. "You as well, Commander," the other responded, "I heard your attack was successful." 

Cody didn't know if successful was the right word for it. They lost a lot of good men. A lot more were injured. Their objective was met, but at what cost? "Yes Sir, their north base is now under Republic control." 

He could practically hear the other nod in approval. "The Council will be pleased to hear that." 

Cody returned his own nod and listened as Obi-Wan continued through the bags. "I think Boil took the bandages if that's what you're looking for. He should be in the other tent." 

"No, I was told your wounds needed redressing… ah, there it is." 

Cody opened his eyes and frowned at the bacta and sedative in the general's hands. "Sir, you don't have to do that." He eyed the soiled bandage again. "I'd much rather you see Fret about that cut." He knew the medic would roll her eyes upon seeing Kenobi's injuries; for that reason, she always seemed to have a cot reserved for the general. 

"I've had worse injuries. The bandages can wait a few more minutes before being replaced." 

"Sir-" 

“Cody, please.”

The commander finally met Obi-Wan’s gaze. He’d heard the Jedi use that tone before- when Skywalker openly disobeyed the Council or Ahsoka ran headfirst into trouble- but that tone was never used on him. That tone meant Obi-Wan was putting his foot down. That tone meant there was no room for any type of argument. 

That tone meant Obi-Wan was worried: that he was scared and that he cared and, usually, that you had done something idiotic or 'uncivilised'. 

Nothing he'd done at that battle was so-called uncivilised , Cody thought. He saved three men's lives. Those brothers would live to fight another day. Obi-Wan had to know why Cody did what he did. If he were reprimanding the sacrifice, Obi-Wan would be the biggest hypocrite in the GAR.

“You’re in much worse shape than me,” Obi-Wan continued softly, “and arguing will not change that fact. You owe it to your men to heal properly and quickly.”

Cody looked away and bit his cheek lightly. It was obvious he was not going to win this fight. He said no more but allowed Obi-Wan to sit beside him on the cot. 

The other worked quickly and gently. Cody kept his eyes towards the ground. He couldn’t bear to see the dark circles under his general’s eyes. He didn’t want to see that blasted bandage. He was unable to confront the underlying implication sitting between them. 

It's a blessing and a curse that Cody can read his surroundings like a book. He is more than aware of his feelings for the general. He isn’t blind to the reciprocation of said emotions. They just… they can’t. Obi-Wan Kenobi is a member of the Jedi High Council, a high-ranking general and a man with too much to lose. Cody is a decorated commander with a large vode to protect and a fear of losing everything he’s made for himself. For now, the galaxy is more than the two of them. 

Any sentence beginning with ‘after the war’ is dangerous. The only time Cody allows himself those three words is when thinking about kaysh jetii. 

Cody could feel his consciousness slipping soon after the general gave him a small shot of sleep inducer. He allowed himself to look at Obi-Wan’s tired face once before closing his eyes again.

                        01100110 01100001 01101001 01110100 01101000

 Eventually, Obi-Wan left Cody’s tent and did as the commander requested. He re-bandaged his arm and put clean robes on before returning to the tent. Fret was putting the last of a shirt over Cody’s bandages, doing her best while the other man slept soundly. 

“Hello, Fret,” he greeted her.  

The taller woman snapped her gaze over and sighed. She brushed the long, black hair away from her face. “Sir,” she started, “I thought I told you to stay in that cot until sunrise.”  

“You had, but I’m perfectly fine.” 

Fret’s eyebrow twitched. “Sir, may I remind you that I am the medic here. I think I know the difference between perfectly fine and questionably fine.” When Obi-Wan didn’t move, she rolled her eyes and shook her head in defeat. “Fine, Sir, tell you what: sit beside the cot and don’t move for a second. I’m waiting on Boil and Trapper to help me move things; you can help me with this while I check on the others.” 

Obi-Wan did as he was told. The next thing he knew, Fret was placing the still sleeping commander into his arms. “Make sure nothing touches his chest,” Fret instructed, “and just hold him until either Boil or Trapper come in to get him. Don’t even think about moving, Kenobi, I saw that sprained ankle and I will examine it later.” She left quickly, muttering about stupid men and ignoring Obi-Wan’s feeble attempts at protest. 

When he was sure he and Cody were alone, Obi-Wan shut his eyes. He gently moved the commander into a more comfortable position, holding his head against his shoulder and supporting his upper back. Cody shifted and lightly grabbed his robes. 

He should have been there, Obi-Wan thought. Maybe Cody wouldn’t be in this state if he had. Maybe more of his men would have survived. Maybe-

‘Maybe’ is a dangerous word. It is almost as dangerous as any statement beginning with ‘after the war’.

Obi-Wan rested his chin on top of his commander’s head and exhaled slowly. Cody was alive and would return to full health soon. In times like these, that's all he can really ask for. 

[clonecest-bin-account]

Origin of a scar

Ship: Cody/Boil

Rating: G

My take on how Cody gets his facial scar.

AO3 link

There’s a reason why Boil is part of the scouting squad, that’s because he’s got damn good observation skills, something that he prides himself of having quite a lot. It’s good to have something to excel at when you have so many people who look the exact same as him, it makes him feel special, even though he’d rather die than admitting it to anybody.

Well, there is someone who knows about it, but that someone is Cody, so it hardly matters according to Boil, not because Cody doesn’t matter, but because he tells him everything.

From confidant to something much more, Cody’s role in his life has greatly changed since Boil has become part of the 212th battalion. One of the many things that he appreciates about Cody is that he’s a great listener, always letting Boil vent his frustration nodding understandingly, and even giving him some advice; most importantly, however, he keeps his mouth shut. He’s not like his gossiping brothers, who as soon as you tell them a secret will in return tell everybody else; he understands that one must keep himself entertained, but not at his expense, for Fett’s sake!

 Anyway, we were talking about his observation skills. They come real handy when they have to scout ahead, searching for any potential danger and traps that they can report to the main forces.

It’s a very important job, upon which many lives depend: a poor scouting job means that your entire battalion could die.

This is why Boil takes his job very seriously. He would never dream of letting his brothers down.

 Sometimes, however, even he can be wrong…

 They are about to set camp, but before doing that, Cody has sent Boil and his squad to scout around them, looking for any potential threat that could hit them while they’re at their most vulnerable.

As always Boil has led his squad with maximum seriousness, settling a perimeter around where the camp will be made, but something is different, however: maybe it’s his haste to get back, maybe it’s because he’s too tired, but he doesn’t notice that they are being spied. Nobody in his squad does.

When they come back and he gives Cody the okay to beginning the construction of the camp, he has no idea of the consequences it’ll have.

 Once everything’s settled down, they all gather around a fire.

General Kenobi begins telling a story about his time in the crèche and the clones listen, rapt by his words. Boil leans closer to Cody, ignoring Waxer’s teasing look - though if he continues he might just smack the fool. Cody notices his movements but he doesn’t say anything, he just smiles at him.

If they weren’t surrounded by the rest of the vode - not to mention their kriffing General - Boil would’ve kissed him right there in that exact moment, but he doesn’t. Some things must be kept private, no matter how little privacy they actually get.

It’s not so bad he supposes, being surrounded by the people he begrudgingly loves, though he has to admit that Cody’s closeness makes everything better.

He feels so calm and relaxed that he could almost fall asleep; actually, keeping his eyes open is becoming more and more difficult. Maybe he’ll rest just for a little bit, five minutes at most…

 As he feels someone gently shaking him awake, he realizes that it hasn’t been just five minutes; the fire is almost completely out and the number of brothers around has diminished greatly. Even the General isn’t there anymore.

“Boil.”

There’s a hint of softness in the way Cody calls him to consciousness that makes Boil smile despite the fact that he’s being wakened up. Wait, if he’s being wakened up, however, then it means--

He immediately shoots up like he’s being burned.

“Sorry sir!” he exclaims immediately, like they actually were in a formal setting, which obviously isn’t true. If they were, Cody wouldn’t be chuckling like he is now.

“Boil, it’s fine. I just wanted to tell you that we should retire for the night, since you seemed tired,” he explains, barely containing his amusement. Boil groans, massaging the bridge of his nose, sensing the incoming headache.

“Please tell me everyone was away already when I fell asleep…”

Cody’s smile is telling. There’s no need for words.

“Everyone saw, didn’t they?” Boil sighs.

“If it is of any consolation, I forbade them from taking holopics.”

“I appreciate that,” Boil grumbles, though he could’ve done without this shit in the first place. Waxer is going to be insufferable for at least a week, if he gets oh so lucky.

Oh well, what is done is done and there’s nothing he can do to change it. Besides, even though sleeping against armor isn’t exactly the best - his cheek hurts - it wasn’t that horrible either, or else he wouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place.

“Alright,” he says then, “So you were talking about retiring for the night?”

If Cody wants to go, who is he to say no? Besides, he’s gotten the message loud and clear that he wants him in his tent, which of course he’s not going to refuse - he’s not an idiot. Cody nods.

“Yeah. This was fun and all but we need energy for tomorrow,” he says then. He’s not wrong.

“Well, after you then, Commander,” Boil says, putting some emphasis on that last word.

Cody doesn’t take the bait, however, but he does begin to take a few steps ahead.

 When he turns towards Boil, however, his carefree expression immediately turns into an alarmed one.

“Boil! Behind you!”

He moves immediately, pushing Boil out of the way, then everything becomes black.

 When Cody wakes up, the first thing he notices is that he’s lying down, the second is that he’s not in the infirmary that they had set in the camp - they must be back to the Negotiator - and the third is that his head hurts so kriffing much.

Why is there so much noise around? Why so many voices? He’s so confused…

 When he hisses in pain, however, everyone falls silent. Now that Cody’s vision can focus again, he can see the aghast surprise of each and every one of the people present.

“Looks like our Commander is awake.” That voice belongs to Obi-Wan, who’s on Cody’s left. “How are you feeling, my dear?”

“Hurts;” is all Cody’s able to croak. At that, he feels a pressure on his right hand. He moves his gaze towards it, and he sees that another hand is wrapper around it, squeezing. He follows the arm attached to it, then the shoulder, and only then he sees it’s Boil. To say he looks bad would be an understatement; Cody wonders if he’s been here the whole time - he hopes not.

“Cody…” He sounds so sad that it breaks Cody’s heart to hear him like this.

“Sorry…” he replies, but whatever Boil was about to say gets cut off by Helix.

“Hate to interrupts, but I need to ask the Commander a few questions about how he’s feeling.”

“Sure, but can anyone also tell me what happened?”

 It was an ambush. Those damned commando droids.

One of them was about to slice Boil, and it would’ve succeeded if Cody hadn’t pushed him out of the way, getting hit in his stead.

“You got lucky that it didn’t get your eye,” Helix comments, “But I’m not going to lie, it’s going to leave a naaasty scar.”

That’s the last of Cody’s problems, to be honest. At least a facial scar will make him look unique; besides, it’s also a badge of honor: it means that he survived.

Still, he must’ve given everyone such a scare, not to mention that he’s missed the entirety of the mission, though it’s clear that it must’ve gone well.

 He turns towards Boil.

“You’re fine, that’s what matters,” he manages to say, only to be met by the mournful silence of his men, at least until Boil snaps.

“With all due respect, that’s banthashit and you know it, sir,” he says, conveying all these days’ anger at his impotence in front of Cody’s conditions in that last word. “If I was so incompetent that I didn’t think of moving away, then maybe I should’ve died!”

He’s not crying, but he’s close to it. He refuses however, because he doesn’t want to be seen like that by anyone, not even his closest vode, not even by Cody, actually, especially by Cody: he wouldn’t want to make him feel like he saved a crybaby.

 “Boil.”

Cody’s voice commands everyone’s attention. He’s so serious already.

“Don’t you ever say that again, that’s an order,” he begins, though his voice gets softer as he continues. “If our positions were switched, wouldn’t you have done the same? You and everyone else for the matter…”

Boil’s silence at those words speak enough for itself.

“I would be a very poor Commander if I didn’t take any chance I’d get to save my men, no matter how clumsy they are being at the moment. For the record, I actually find you a very capable soldier, but even capable soldiers need help from time to time.”

“Besides…” and now it’s his turn to squeeze Boil’s hand, “I would never let anything happen to you.”

 In the silence that follows, most of the vode present begin to leave.

“We’ll give you a moment,” General Kenobi says then, resting one hand on Cody’s shoulder. “Let us know if you need something.”

“I will,” Cody replies, though he thinks the General knows already that he won’t, because he’d hate to be a burden to anyone.

Still, he thankfully doesn’t mention anything about it. He just nods, then he leaves he, Boil and Helix alone.

“You’re stable, but I’ll be around in case of emergency,” the medic comments, then he turns to Boil, “You can stay but just for five minutes. After that you’re both getting some rest. Doctor’s orders.”

 With that, Cody and Boil are truly alone now.

“Boil--” Cody tries to say, but Boil’s on him immediately, cupping his face between his hands and pressing their lips together. This feels way better than just talking.

When they pull away, Cody feels dizzy, but maybe that’s just the lack of oxygen.

 Maybe it’s in order to duck under Cody’s gaze - he doesn’t want to be seen in such a distraught state, though he supposes he already has, hasn’t he? - that Boil closes his arms around him, burying his face in the space between Cody’s neck and his shoulder.

Cody, of course, returns the hug immediately. It feels so reassuring being in his arms. Now Boil can finally get his confirmation that this isn’t just some kind of prank, but it’s true.

“Just next time, Cody--”

“You know I can’t do that,” Cody interrupts him, knowing already what he was going to ask. Well, at least he tried.

“I’m just glad that you’re alive,” Boil mutters, caressing Cody’s cheek with one hand.

 They’re about to lean in for another kiss, when Helix steps up to Cody’s cot again.

“Alright, time’s up,” he says, “I understand your worry, Boil, but the Commander needs to rest now. You can come visit later.”

Disappointed by having his time cut short, Boil pulls away. He may not be happy about it, but he’ll still obey.

“I’ll be fine, Boil, there’s no need to worry,” Cody reassures him, managing to lift his spirit up, if only a bit.

“I’m counting on it, sir,” he replies, giving him one last peck on his lips before leaving towards the bunks, suddenly feeling very drained and tired.

Turns out he’s in need of some rest too.

 He still feels guilty about this whole ordeal, no matter what Cody says about it. It’s his fault that he’s now got that nasty scar on his face - it’s still dressed by bandages but he can tell already that it’s going to be rough to look at - and nothing will ever change that.

The only thing he can do about it now it to stay close to Cody and help him recover, besides also of course never make such a mistake on the job.

No, he’ll make sure something like this never happens again.