#trooper rys

[kenobes]

The Coruscant Guard as Shitpost Pics I Have Saved on My Phone

Fox

Thorn

Thire

Stone

Hound

Grizzer

Jek

Rys

[mwolf0epsilon]

Roll in the Credits

Fox, waiting at the GAR landing platform: Rys, watching him: What's the commander doing all the way over there? That's the GAR boys's landing zone... Stone: Hm? Oh. The 104th, 112th and 501st got leave at the same time. Rys: ...And? Stone: Fox is collecting bet credits. Rys: ... Wolffe, walking out of the newly-landed LAAT while wearing a colorful fursuit: I'm wearing the stupid thing...Happy now? Fox, keeping a level voice: I am content, yes. Hand over the credits. Wolffe, grumbling and giving him a substantial amount of credits: Pain in the shebs... -stomps off towards 79's- Rys, flabbergasted: Was that...? Stone: Keep watching. It gets better. Cody, wearing rainbow punk rock attire with matching mohawk and piercings: You're the devil. Fox, still containing his smile: Don't make bets you can't win. Cody, flipping him off after handing over his own sum of credits before following Wolffe: Bastard... Rys: What the fuck...? Stone: We're missing one. Rys: Oh no, what did he make Rex wear? Rex, in a bunny girl outfit complete with big floppy ears, tail, fishnets and heels: Fox, snorting: Had a nice breezy trip, Rex'ika? Rex: I hate you with every fiber of my being. Fox: Love you too. Credits now. Rex, weeping as he hands over his losses: Why do I never learn? -continues to do the walk of shame towards 79's, catching up with Wolffe and Cody- Rys, absolutely shocked: Stone: And this is why no one should EVER bet against Fox. Rys: Noted.

[baaaaaaaam]

There's not much to look at here sir. We all share the same face.

[1-800-crscnt]

-a few hobby hcs i have for some corries, more under the cut-

Fox: may not have time for it, but likes to collect guns and sometimes customize them to increase their power/strangness. He gives some of them silly names, and doesn’t let anybody touch them unless it’s an emergency. Keeping this hobby is a bit anxiety-inducing, because a lot of the guns he collects are actually illegal to own and use, and with the customizations added on, non-illegal ones tend to become illegal. He also likes solving those giant puzzles that you’re supposed to do with a group of people but alone; unfortunately, he never has the time to actually complete any of them.

Thorn: likes to collect knives that he finds, but does let others use them and borrow them, and in rare cases, keep them. He also loves to study vehicles and learn everything about them, and will talk your ear off about his favorite models of the month. He doesn’t have the credits to, but he would love to start collecting miniature models of speeders and fighters. Imagine every Car Guy shoved into one body, and that’s basically him. Also, likes skating because it’s faster than walking, and makes him feel a little cooler and intimidating, but doesn’t realize he actually appears more approachable.

Stone: loves drawing/painting whenever he can, and keeps a little sketchbook that he gets very shy about showing to others. He tries to draw mainly people, but sometimes likes to draw random animals and plants he sees while off-planet. He also loves reading murder mystery and romance novels. Specifically, he’s listening to novels he’s downloaded while on duty. He’s not shy about the reading, but doesn’t really like talking about the books with just anybody. He likes reading aloud to brothers and asking them questions like a teacher would, though.

Thire: more of a thrill-seeker than usual by clone standards, so he has more risky hobbies, like crashing parties when he’s got free-time, street/sky racing with random people, stealing “probably won’t notice it’s missing for a while” things from people before returning it days later, and skating just like Thorn, but usually without any protection and in dangerous spots. Has gotten in trouble with this multiple times, and even after his promotion, still does it. If he was able, he would love to go surfing.

Hound: likes to run and people-watch a lot. Running feels very natural and it’s easy for him to slip into that trance-like state and just empty his mind of any overwhelming thoughts, which happens a lot since I also hc him to be force sensitive to the smallest degree. People-watching is another source of learning what is and isn’t appropriate/expected of him in a more general sense, and he’s also just a nosy people person, so he genuinely enjoys watching people interact with the world around them (and hopefully, with him).

Jek: won’t admit that it’s something he enjoys, but considers himself a professional gardener in training. Whenever he’s able, he likes to pick flowers and bring them back to Coruscant for his brothers to see, but struggles with keeping them alive for longer than a few days. Stone helps with sending him books about plant-care, but Jek has trouble remembering it all. He is aiming to grow a small patch of berry and rose bushes somewhere close to the Guard HQ, and frequently gets other clones to help him build, find manuals, soil, make a schedule for it, etc. After he’s reassigned, he no longer continues with this hobby, but regrets every plant he doesn’t try to sneak back onto ships.

Rys: is still trying to find hobbies that he likes and sticks to, but tends to find himself fixing things for his brothers and himself after his Rugosa mission. “Things” is very general here, and can range from small scratches on armor, to broken datapads, to broken bones. The commanders are secretly considering him for medic training just in case they ever need him to be an official one, but it’s not likely. He also fixes less physical problems too, like soothing anxieties & conveniently remembering things others forgot, but this isn’t usually on purpose. He once fixed a marriage on accident by convincing the arguing spouses to jump someone who lied and robbed them, something other clones find hilarious. His “fixes” are not always the best solutions.

-Fox also skates, but does it out of wanting to connect more with his brothers and train others to do it. It gets expensive since isn’t essential and covered by the Republic or Kaminoans, so only a handful of clones under Thorn’s command actually get skates. They share them between each other, but of course, they won’t always want to-

[vodika-vibes]

Throwing this thought at you like a paper airplane after I saw the corri dating pole, admittedly the first clone I felt in love with was Rys right off the bat from episode one. The smooth personality and tattoos got me like a bear trap immediately, then there was the hair and the color scheme and the way he was just toteing around a heavy ass rocket launcher the whole episode. I was also 16 when I first watched that episode and I do not digress, he’s still fine af. Uhg, he’s just so cute.

We Belong Together

Summary: You have your eyes set on a boy. And not just any boy, but Rys, a member of the Guard. A surprise power outage from an even more surprise storm gives you a chance.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Rys x GN! Reader

Word Count: 1805

Warnings: None

A/N: I had so many ideas for this, but this is the one that I eventually settled on. I hope you like it!

“You’re staring.”

You don’t pull your gaze away from Rys, even when your friend elbows you roughly. “I’m not staring. I’m…admiring.”

“Yeah. Which translates to staring.” 

You finally pull your gaze away from Rys and glare at your friend, “He’s gorgeous and I love him.”

“Girl, you don’t even know him. Maybe he’s a prick.”

“He’s not.”

“Why, because your imagination says so?”

You huff and fold your arms over your chest, “Because he’s nothing but polite when I talk to him.”

“Oh, so you’ve talked to him before?”

At that, your face burns, “I…well…”

“Ah, he comes to you for tech support.” Your friend has a slightly smug smile on her face, and you pout at her and look away.

“It’s…a start.”

“Oh, yes. Everyone knows that all of the greatest love stories start when one part doesn’t even know that the other one exists.” She teases, and then she drapes an arm over your shoulder and hugs you lightly, “Maybe you should set your sights on someone who actually knows you exist.”

You shoot her a dirty look.

“You know…like that nice man at the shipping store?”

“You mean the one that smells like rotting meat?”

“Well—”

“Thanks but no thanks,” You scrunch up your nose at the thought, “I’m done with lunch and heading back to my office, you?”

“Mm, I have an extended lunch today since I’m staying late this evening. I’ll see you later, though.” She turns back to her lunch and you shake your head, though you push out of your seat and throw your trash away before you slip out of the cafeteria and head towards the stairs that will take you to your office.

You could take the lift, probably, but the last thing you want is to end up on the lift with some snooty senators.

They always say the same things, “Is that your natural hair color?” No. Humans aren’t born with rainbow hair. “Are those tattoos permanent?” Yes, tattoos generally are. “Are those face piercings religious?” No, they just look pretty.

Honestly, with few exceptions, the Senators are so annoying.

You head down the four flights of stairs and then push open the door leading to your level, and you have to side-step a group of senator aides who seem to think that they own the Senate building, before you key in the code to your office door and head back into your office.

“I’m back!” You call to the office, but there’s no response. There never is.

You work alone, after all.

An almost silent sigh falls from your lips, and you reach over to flip the lights on, only for a light in the back of your office to flicker, and go out.

A second, louder, sigh falls from your lips.

“You should work for the senate,” You mutter under your breath, mocking your old guidance counselor, “They need an IT person, and it’s high paying. Just like you require.” You climb onto a spare desk and pop the lid off the light, and scowl at the dead bulb, “I might be high-paid, but this place sucks.”

You are, after all, required to do your own maintenance.

About fifteen minutes later, the door to your office slides open. You don’t look away from where you’re, carefully, trying to maneuver the light into place. “I’ll be right with you.”

There’s silence for a moment, and then heavy steps, “Do you need any help?” The voice is familiar in the way that all of the clones' voices are familiar, and you spare him a glance over your shoulder.

It’s Rys.

For a moment you just blink at him in bewilderment, and then you shake your head, “Ah, it’s nice of you to offer, but I’m almost done.” You slide the new bulb into place, secure it there, and let out a triumphant noise as the light comes back on. “There! Perfect!”

You swiftly pop the covering back into place, and then climb off the table so you’re standing in front of Rys, “Sorry about that! How can I help you?”

He stares at you for a moment, and then offers you his datapad, “It stopped working.”

You take the small device and open your mouth to ask what happened, exactly, though you’re cut off by a low, deep, rumble from outside the building. And then there’s a loud crack that makes you jump, and the entire room goes dark.

The room remains dark for about thirty seconds before the backup generators kick on and the room is lit by eerie red lights.

“Well, that’s not ideal,” You murmur as you move to your desk and set the datapad in your hand on the edge.

“No, it’s not.” You turn to look at Rys, who’s frowning at his comm, “The Commander says to shelter in place until they figure out why the power is out.” He moves to an open chair and drops into it, kicking his feet up on an empty desk.

Well, you’re not going to complain about being stuck in a room with the man you’ve been crushing on for months, so you drop into your chair as well, and then dig around your desk to pull out a deck of cards, “Wanna play?”

“Yeah, alright.”

Two hours later, the senate building is still running on emergency generators, and you and Rys have long since moved away from Sabbac to just chatting with each other.

He’s removed the top part of his armor and is sitting on the floor next to you, taking turns throwing the cards across the room into a box.

“So, I have to ask,” Rys says after a moment, “How does someone like you end up working here, of all places?”

“Someone like me?” You repeat with a laugh.

“You definitely don’t look like you should work at the senate,” He points out, as he lightly tugs on a strand of your hair.

“That’s fair,” You agree, “I was encouraged to apply here after college, they hired me sight unseen.” You shrug, “And I’m good enough that they look the other way when it comes to the dye and piercings.”

“Well, I’m glad.”

You glance at him, but he’s not looking at you, “Well, me too. I wouldn’t like to be jobless.”

He glances at you, and his smile is one you’ve never seen aimed at you before, “I just meant that you add some color to a pretty dreary place. Plus, I can always pick you out of a crowd.”

“Why would you need to pick me out of a crowd?” You ask, genuinely confused.

He throws another card into the box and you frown at the box, wondering if you should move it further away, “No reason,” Rys replies quickly, “And if my brothers ever tell you anything different you need to know that they’re all horrible liars.”

You laugh and lean against the wall, “Okay, so what would they tell me?”

He still won’t look at you, “They’d probably say something along the lines of me having a crush on you.”

You blink at him, having not expected those words to come out of his mouth, “But, since your brothers are liars,” You say slowly, “It’s not true.” You fold your arms, “Huh, that’s a shame.”

His head snaps towards you fast enough that you genuinely worry about his neck, “What’s a shame?”

“Oh, well,” You shrug, almost nonchalantly, “If you did have a thing for me, we could have tried seeing how we were together, but since you’re not—” You shrug again, and then place your hands on the ground to propel yourself to your feet to collect the cards from the floor and the box.

You don’t manage to get to your feet.

Rys’ hand wraps around your wrist and he tugs you so that you topple over onto his lap, and then his lips are against yours. You adjust yourself so that you’re straddling one of his thighs, and your arms snake around his neck so you’re able to play with the hair at the base of his neck, as you kiss him back, just as enthusiastically. 

For someone who, you assume, has never kissed anyone before, Rys is a really good kisser. Or, maybe, all of the people you’ve ever kissed before have just been really bad.

Either way, he’s a very enthusiastic kisser, angling his head so he’s able to deepen the kiss without forcing you to stretch, his tongue sliding against the seam of your lips, and then against your own.

And the kiss only breaks when the lights overhead flicker back on.

His hand moves to your cheek, and he has a very small, very smug, grin playing on his lips as he adjusts you so that he can press his forehead against yours. 

“You’re really good at that,” You say, slightly breathlessly.

His smile becomes even more smug, “I must be a natural then.”

“Must be,” You agree, leaning in so you can brush your lips against his, and he tilts his head back slightly so he can catch your lips in a proper kiss, only to have to stop when his comm chimes.

There’s a glimmer of annoyance on his handsome face, but he grabs his comm and reads the message on it. And then his head thumps back against the wall.

“Time to go back to work?” You ask, sympathetic, even as your fingers move to the tattoo on his jaw and you trace the shape lightly. 

His gaze lingers on your face for a moment, “Unfortunately. If I don’t go, the Commander will come and look for me.”

“Well, we can’t have that.” You joke lightly, already moving to get off of him, though his hands tightly grip your hip, as though he’s not ready to let you go.

You grin at him, kiss him quickly, and then slip off his lap. “You know,” You muse thoughtfully as he gets to his feet and starts pulling his armor back on, “There’s a nice little restaurant not far from my place, delivery or pick up only.”

“That right?”

“Mm, they have really nice food,” You continue, “If you wanted to come around to my place after work?”

His fingers fumble on the latch to his armor, and his gaze locks with yours as a wide grin crosses his face, “It’d take an act of god to keep me away.”

You grin right back at him, “It’s a date then.”

Rys finishes strapping on his armor, and then lightly taps your chin with two fingers, “I can’t wait.” He drops a kiss on your cheek, and then he’s gone, back to work.

And you’re left to try not to erupt into elated giggles as excitement wells inside you.

You’ve never been so happy in your life.

@imabeautifulbutterfly @n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@Mira-Loves-Star-Wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@cc--2224

[wantonlywindswept]

👀 (which by the way is a genuine reaction to your "I have so many things" tag-comment)

haaah there were. so many ideas. few of them coherent. x_X

this one i do actually want to finish at some point; it's corrie guard shenanigans, SOME of them trust that the jedi might be able to fix things so uh. they try. to maybe do that.

...kidnapping may or may not be involved.

---

Jek liked to think that he was a good soldier.

He wasn't the best--he would happily leave that to Commander Fox's batch and whatever tube glitch had resulted in Captain Rex--but he was decent. A solid middle. He got the job done, he worked hard, he didn't complain. (And not just because complaining on Coruscant could easily mean a recon.)

The point was, he didn't deserve to be put on trial for treason.

"It's only treason if it's against the Republic," Rys pointed out. "This is just standard treachery. That's prison time, at most."

"For natborns, maybe," Jek mourned. "Pretty sure if we fuck up they just send us back to Kamino for a refund."

"You are both following orders," Commander Thire gritted out, "So if anyone is brought up on charges, it will be me."

That made Jek feel a lot better, actually.

"Now shut up."

"Yessir," he and Rys chorused.

They marched crisply on either side of the heavily-laden hovercart, Thire in the lead as they made their way towards the entrance to the Jedi Temple. The loading bay was relatively busy this time of day, which is why Thire chose it, and they didn't expect too much scrutiny: clones came and went from the Temple all the time.

Not Guard clones, admittedly, but this was their city. Technically they had the right to go wherever they wanted.

A thought occurred to Jek then, flitting across his mind like one of those colorful flappy insects that Mack had tattooed on his arm.

"So, what do we do if General Yoda isn't here?"

Thire stumbled over his own feet.

Huh. 

"You mean you haven't already thought about that?" Rys hissed. He laid a hand atop the largest crate--the most important crate--on the hovercart, fingers spread out protectively across the smooth durasteel. "What if they want us to leave it in his room? If he's out on a mission he could be gone for months--"

"We're fucked if he's gone for more than another two hours," Jek pointed out helpfully.

"I will figure it out," Thire snapped. 

Two days into his new commission and he was already able to spew banthashit like the rest of the Commanders. Incredible.

"Are there even any other Jedi we could trust?" Jek asked. They'd met Master Yoda on the mission to Rugosa, so they knew he was a good person, but none of them really had experience with any of the other Jedi.

"Sinker said that General Koon is pretty good," Rys offered.

Thire snorted.

"General Koon actually likes Commander Wolffe. There's gotta be something wrong with him if he willingly puts up with that level of crazy."

"Maybe Kenobi? Commander Fox always bitches about Marshall Commander Cody going on about him."

Rys grimaced, shaking his head.

"He's Skywalker's master."

All three of them shuddered. Skywalker was friends with the Chancellor, and Commander Fox regularly came back from meetings with the Chancellor sporting mysterious injuries that somehow never got recorded on his medical file.

They all knew better to trust anyone that was on good terms with the Chancellor.

"What about General Windu?" Rhys suggested.

"What about me?"

[seven-oomen]

YODA YOU FUCKING TROLL

He says, riding piggyback on a clone.

Also clones having different force signatures is fucking canon:

I AM FUCKING DED.

[kingtransgender]

im a clone fan first and foremost and a tcw fan second so i started a video series of clone moments from the show

[stationary-cycle-in-motion]

Random prompt generator game

I was feeling stuck in my writing today, so I generated a random prompt and ran with it. Here's the result:

Prompts: Rys, Maul, royalty

“Would you?”

Rys swallows hard, trying desperately to keep his eyes trained on the floor. His neck twinges with the strain of maintaining the bow, his knee digging uncomfortably into the ornamental tile, but despite the knowledge that he will only suffer more if he does not remain submissive, his eyes stray up to the throne.

Lord Maul’s horns gleam in the fading sunlight refracted through the stained glass of the palace’s windows. Ethereal, Rys thinks. Like Kad Ha’rangir reincarnate, with skin red as blood and artfully crafted edges of pure destruction, more horns and claws and teeth than man. 

Deadly beautiful.

His lord lounges, one knee drawn to his chest, head propped lazily on his hand, but there’s no indifference to be found in the way his eyes rove over Rys. The intensity burns, white-hot and piercing; a scalding display of single-minded attention.

Rys fights down the shiver that threatens to wrack his body, unwilling—or unable—to admit how weak his lord’s regard makes him.

Slowly, Maul rises. His footsteps reverberate as he descends, every tremor sending a jolt through Rys’s system, and he can’t quite tell if it’s fear or excitement vibrating through his nerves at the sight of the red devil drawing closer.

He’s not entirely sure the difference matters.

A slender, skeletal hand, cooler to the touch than he was expecting, grasps Rys by the chin with bruising pressure and jerks his head up. Rys’s breath catches in his throat as his eyes meet drowning golden-yellow. 

Maul’s face is inches from his, his lips close enough they’re practically brushing, and the temptation to lean in grips Rys in a chokehold, but he doesn’t dare.

“Would you kill him for me?” Maul asks, the movement of his lips across Rys’s a brand, a curse, a promise.

Rys can’t contain the ragged breath that’s jarred from his throat. “Yes, my lord.”

[threebea]

I love the fanon relationships between the clones and their Jedi be it platonic, familial, or romantic, but we don't talk enough about the clones Yoda has relationships with. Episode 1 of the Clone Wars he's on a diplomatic mission with Rys, Jek, and Thire. In fact, Jek is there on Kashyyk during Order 66 and is killed by Yoda, but before that they must have known each other well.

"Jek is wearing mottled armor and listening to his comlink. He reacts with disbelief and regret, but must obey." - Quote by Jason Fry on Jek receiving Order 66, found this on wookipedia.

Anyway headcanon that Jek gets all the Yoda missions. He's in the Guard, now he's a Ranger, he moves units, but somehow there's Yoda.

Think of the stories. Cody and Rex complaining about Obi-Wan and Anakin at 79's and suddenly a clone in red leeeans forward and gives them a long stare.

"Pathetic."

"Wha-?"

Although after a few drinks it's: "If anything happens to that little green guy I'll kill everyone in this room and myself."

"Time for some blue milk trooper I think you've had enough..."

[eriexplosion]

Time for our breather episode, Common Ground

The scenery in this show is so damned good, the way I am instantly in love with Raxus and the gold tones.

Honestly this episode fits much better given what we see in Spoils of War/Ruins of War, emphasizing the humanity of the people in every system. TCW triedddd to do this with the 'heroes on both sides' but they really just kind of said it and then showed us like one lady that didn't suck in the entire show. She died immediately. So I appreciate these episodes.

Also I just love the Senator's droid she's hilarious to me.

Avi Singh is voiced by Alexander Siddig and it made me trust him immediately like all those people in the crowd cheering that is me hearing Julian Bashir's voice come out of this little animated man.

HOW can the scene of them just walking contain so many of my favorite character moments? Omega feeding Wrecker a piece of Mantell Mix, Tech steadying Omega when Hunter helps her off Wrecker's shoulder to make sure she doesn't fall over, her smiling up at him, this expression of UTTER DUBIOUSNESS and SUSPICIOUS SNIFFING from Echo

I headcanon that Echo has hella digestive problems after a large portion of them was replaced by technology so every food must pass this sniff test and 90% of them do NOT but especially not whatever sugary concoction goes on this space popcorn.

I do NOT get why people thought for so long that we don't see Tech caring for Omega because every time she stumbles Tech is right there to steady her, he takes such good care of Omega oh my god. Sometimes love is making sure your baby sister never ever falls over!

Which he also does when she gets on a chair and he is right there like JUST IN CASE.

Adolescents often exhibit lack of balance as they grow best to be within two inches of her at all times in case she wobbles.

GRANDMA CRIMES WILL BABYSIT DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT. DON'T TRUST HER BUT SHE'LL TOTALLY DO IT.

I do think it's very funny that the one time Hunter successfully keeps her out of a mission by leaving her on another planet, she immediately becomes central to a gambling ring.

I want a count of how many times Echo complained about this job while Tech is just YOU KNOW WHAT'S GREAT, EARNING MONEY TO EAT WITHOUT PUTTING IT ON CID'S TAB. And Wrecker is just excited to mark off a new system on his Visited Locations list.

"Now are you convinced?" "No >:[" Echo has very valid reasons to not be thrilled about this job but unfortunately separatist doesn't mean much anymore and also they're so cute when they're Grumby.

When you clean SO sadly that Cid comes over like STOP BEING A MOPE. Omega's really leaning into her early teens attitude with SOR-RY.

ANGY.

Bolo and Ketch's DISAPPOINTED HEAD SHAKING is so fucking funny. You UPSET the CHILD Cid. Go fix it. Like they weren't taking bets on her fucking up her bow training earlier.

I know Hunter's mentioning Omega is supposed to be Feelsy a little but I do admit it misses a little bit because it's not like she's missing or anything. I do wish they had done something like this with Crosshair early on, like in Rampage when he orders Echo to be eyes in the sky, switch it to him saying Crosshair's name instead and then correcting.

THIS ANTIQUE VASE IS PRICELESS, BE CAREFUL :C I love herrrrrr

You know the senator is in real trouble because they took his hat.

AND BEHOLD! I HAVE SAVED YOUR MOST PRIZED VASE :D

Quite a bit of time is spent on Grand Theft Walker in this episode. Also I'm glad they're using stun bolts but oh boy is it concerning to stun a bunch of clone troopers in the same area where walkers are fighting, this is such a way to get squished.

As always I'm a big fan of Tech getting Punchy I love that he's not at all a docile nerd.

Echo stepping forward to encourage Avi to leave because he can't help his people in custody is sweet but would have been slightly better if we got a little more one on one interaction between the two of them. Even just one solid scene would be good.

I'll give the batch one thing, their success/failure rate is slightly better than I remembered, they are up to 3 successes and only 1 major failure

Frankly they should stop doing merc work though and just let Omega gamble her way through the galaxy.

SHOW A LITTLE GRATITUDE TO MY FRIEND. Cid is officially Affectionate towards this small child.

Another good character moment is Wrecker giving Hunter an EXTREMELY SERIOUS *TALK TO THE CHILD* LOOK

Really the main plot of this episode is a good breather but it really shines in tiny moments that make me Squeal a little. Just those little character interactions that I ADORE.

[stardusthuntress]

What is Lost, Can Also Be Found

Fives Lives AU! 

Fives x gnMandalorian!reader (yay for beskar) 

Word Count: ~4.3k 

Summary: while out on a mission with Rex and Echo (post-TBB s3), you discover something you’d all thought you’d lost a long time ago

TW & A/N: angsty story, but happy ending! Fives has had a rough time, something along similar lines to Echo’s story… so expect mods… sorry. I swear this whole thing came to me in like a waking fever dream sorta thing, it was outta the blue when I was just relaxing one day and I had to let the story become words on a page so I could share a hug with all of you guys <3 

dividers by: @/djarrex

“Ok, I’m in the armor…ry…” your eyes are wide, unsure of what you’re seeing. 

This room had been labeled “armory” on the schematic Echo was able to get ahold of. But aside from a single rack of blasters and droid poppers in the middle of the room, visible from the door, this did not look like an armory. It was a huge room, tubes of liquids lined the ceiling connecting everything. And the walls… there was no way this was any kind of armory. 

The walls are lined with… well, some strange type of cryotubes… filled with familiar, identical faces, identical personalized faces. Faces of troopers who’ve already seen battle, already been out there in the thick of it long enough to individualize themselves and bare the scars of many tough battles. But what are they doing here? And why was this room labeled armory in the schematics if they aren’t… oh… OH… KRIFF… as if this couldn’t get more horrifying than it already was…. 

You step closer to the pods as you walk further into the room, needing more information. 

Each of these men has a pair of blinking lights just under the skin of their temples, as though they are droids sitting on their chargers, waiting for a signal. 

And many of them seem to have mods, or evidence of mods, or other scars from intense surgery that wasn’t properly healed on or around vital organs. 

You keep walking further into the room until something catches your attention as you step past one of the pods, forcing you to halt in your tracks in disbelief. 

It was the lights flashing on their temples that caught your attention, but not just the lights on all the men, the lights on this one in particular. One of his lights has a weird dim shape to it, at least out of the corner of your eye it seems to. 

As you cautiously step backward and turn to face the sleeper in question you feel your stomach plummet. If the little tattoo on the side of his temple hadn’t given him away, the goatee that matched the blue and red symbol you knew so well on his helmet would have. But that was impossible! He was declared mentally unstable after voluntarily modifying himself and had to be terminated. Or… that’s what you had been told… but here he was… And he was very much not dead according to the vitals status panel. 

“NO!” The word bursts from you in a cowering whimper before you can stop it. 

“What happened? You ok?” Naturally, your comm was still on and Echo and Rex heard that… kriff. 

“Oh fuck… force’s sake…” is all you can manage, brain racing to figure out what to say to them. You can’t tell them, you just can’t. It would hurt them more than anything else, but they can’t blow the ship now either. 

“What is it? We’re on our way to you!” Rex’s voice can be heard over the sounds of blasters firing in your earpiece. 

“NO! I’m fine. I’m fine. We can’t blow the ship. Oh, stars, there’s… we have to protect this room! We can’t let it get taken, and we can’t let them signal anyth—” There’s movement behind you, and you dive out of sight behind the cryotube that had caught your attention. 

In your ear you can hear Rex and Echo asking what happened. Knowing they will go quiet in a moment if you don't answer, you remain silent, watching the movement in the room. 

Back near the door, one of the tubes opens, the lights on the man’s face blinking faster. 

His eyes open slowly, revealing blank eyes, and the light goes steady and then turns off. He’s clad in familiar white armor decorated with brown accents and ram horns. As you watch, he steps out and moves methodically towards the door, picking up a blaster as he passes without even looking at it on his way out of this strange room, his movements strangely… robotic…

“Keeli?” You whisper. 

“What?!?!” Rex is confused. Keeli was listed as KIA. 

“Uhh, I think… Captain Keeli is on his way to you?” You try to explain, but you can practically hear their eyebrows raising as they exchange glances during their firefight in the hallways not far away, so you keep going, hoping something makes sense to them. “Except it’s not really him. I mean, it is, it’s him, but he seemed… kinda… blank… didn’t seem to notice me though, but we gotta get him back here and back into his pod. Preferable without hurting him. And we gotta steal this room… the whole room… and we can’t let it get activated when we do that… Karking haran [fucking hell]… yeah, it's not good Rex. I’m fine, but what’s in this room is bad. Really bad. Just… knock him out… and get him back here… asap….. Echo, is there a way to disconnect this room from the rest of the ship? It doesn’t look like the rest of the ship, maybe it is removable or something?” 

“On it.” Echo must have scooped into the ship again. 

“Don’t look into what’s in it yet!” you warn, dumbfounded that you forgot that crucial bit of information earlier. “Just get us out of here and block all signals being sent to this room, yeah?” You instruct. If he finds out when he’s digging through the ship, that would be the worst way to learn about all this, especially the if the man whose cryotube you’re currently hiding behind is who you fear he is. 

“OOOkay,” Echo seems to think it’s a weird request, and he’s right, but he trusts you, so he’s running with it for now. “Yeah, it can disconnect, it's a later addition… ship wasn’t designed to have it… I’ll need some time to scramble signals sent to it and decrypt the disconnect controls. Rex?” 

“I’ve got you,” Rex replies. 

You hadn’t realized it, but while listening to them, your eyes had glazed over, drifting to stare at the door but only as a subconscious safety monitor, you weren’t really seeing the door. 

As the conversation ended, you blinked, crawling out from your hiding place and standing up. You’d bought yourself some time to figure out what the fuck was going on in this room and how to get these men out of it. You turned to look at the control panel on the side of the weird, coffin-shaped boxes the men were each stored in. 

Hmm, difficult to say what was done here, the keypad was no indicator, just a status panel with basic controls. You glanced back at the man inside for a fleeting moment and froze, staring at the status panel. 

Were his eyes open a minute ago? 

You blinked and looked around, not sure if you were seeing things. A quick glance around the room confirmed the men’s eyes were all closed. So you looked back at the man in front of you. 

His eyes were definitely open, and they were starting to look panicked and pained as they bore into you. You had to get him out. 

You slammed your hand on the “open” button on the controls, eyes glued to the man’s face as the doors to the cryotube opened with a dramatic swoosh of fog. 

“Trooper, is that you? You ok? What happened? How did you get here? Who put you in this—?” But you cut yourself off. he was being weirdly quiet. That wasn’t like the man you knew. 

His eyes were growing larger with fear. He clearly didn’t have any answers either. 

He gasped for a breath, but didn’t move. He seemed to be struggling, his whole body was trembling, but he wasn’t moving much. 

His breath came out in gasps. He was clearly trying to break free from something while also trying desperately not to panic. 

You needed to get him out, and fast! 

There were no visible restraints on him, but clearly something was holding him back. Your attention went back to the control panel. 

On the screen a single question was lit up “status: ready. Activate?”, and three buttons blinked to life below it “activate”, and “release”, and “terminate”. 

Well that last one was unsettling, to say the least… 

You jabbed the release button as quickly as you could. Turning immediately to the face you knew so well. 

A tear raced down his cheek, but then a look of surprise raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes, and he gasped again, yanking a hand up in front of his face so he could stare at it. 

His breathing was still erratic and gasping, but he seemed to be rediscovering his mobility, though his whole body was quivering, probably from shock. 

“Good! Good job, trooper! Fight it, that’s it!” You encouraged. 

He looked past his trembling hand at you, a pleading look in his eyes. 

He probably wanted answers, but you didn’t have any, so instead you offered a hug and a comforting smile. 

Two shakey hands reached for you and he started to lean forward, albeit clumsily. 

In the back of your mind a warning flared, reminding you this was not a good idea, that you had no idea what they had done to him. Based on Keeli’s movements a moment ago, it wasn’t good. But the desperation and sadness in his eyes was too much to resist. He needed someone right now, and you wanted to be here for him. 

You immediately stepped forward and cradled him against your shoulder and chest. One hand comfortingly stroked the hair that had begun to grow back slowly during his time in cryo, the other rubbing his back. 

He took a ragged breath, and you could feel tears starting to stain the garments beneath your armor. 

“Easy now trooper, I’ve got you. We’re gonna get you out of here. Breathe with me, trooper. In…… and out…… good! Keep going! In… and out… in… and out…” 

commotion in the hallway alerted you to Rex and Echo’s approach. 

“Incoming!” Rex called. “Echo needs a socket,” he warned. 

You shielded the man on your shoulder, a hand automatically coming up to cover the pulsing light on his temple, hiding his identifying mark from view as you scoured the room for a port for Echo.

Echo burst in, brow furrowing for a moment in confusion. He too thought this was the “armory” but it sure as haran [hell] didn’t look like one, and a strange man is crying on your shoulder, but when you pointed him to the terminal he needed, he pushed aside the confusion and began working on freeing the room from the confines of the ship as fast as he could. A true ARC, compartmentalizing and focusing on his task to protect everyone. Aware there would be time for questions if he could do his job and get everyone out alive first. 

Rex was hot on his heels, covering his back, with Keeli draped over his shoulder, unconscious as requested. 

You pointed to the empty tube you had seen Keeli step out of, and Rex placed him back in it, clocking the “sleep” button to keep him under for the time being. 

Only a few minutes later, the room was freed, Captain Howzer had swung by in a stolen ship, grabbed the container of a room you were all in, and you were safely in hyperspace. 

“Ok, now, what the FUCK is this place?” Echo was rightfully angry. This appeared to be some continuation of what the Techo Union had been doing to him. Clone bodies, but controlled minds, kept alive by mods, but slaves to the Empire’s will. 

“Yeah, I don’t know either, but tell me how many of these men you thought were dead?” You offered, eyes wide with pain and anger and hate for the Empire, still cradling the man crying on your shoulder, though his breathing pattern was calming slightly as he let it out. 

Rex stood still and silent in the middle of the room, his back to you, but you could see his fists clench. He was angry too. You all were. 

“But they can fight it,” you said, looking at Rex’s back. 

Rex and Echo immediately turned to you. 

“They can fight it. This one did. He’s a strong one. He broke through whatever they did to them while I was standing here.” 

They approached, Rex putting on his comforting Captain demeanor, ready to talk to this brother to see what he knew. The man was still a sobbing mess on your shoulder, gripping your waist tight with white knuckles like he was afraid of the truth of this room too. 

“He doesn’t know either.” You explained, “He was so scared, I had to do something. I don’t know what they’ve done to him or how to deactivate it, but I couldn’t leave him in there alone and immobile and very much awake.” You tell Rex, worry making it a bit of a rambling mess. 

“It’s ok,” Rex pats your back, “One thing at a time,” he takes a deep breath, trying to release the anger to comfort you both. 

“Well, it’s gonna be more than one thing at a time, it has to. You’re not gonna like this,” you glance at the man in your arms. 

Rex looked at you with concern. And then his eyes widen with horror. He realizes you meant he knew this one. More than he’d known Captain Keeli. He knew this man, whoever it was, well. His gaze drifted to the man, racked with sobs, though they were beginning to subside. He did know this man. The posture of his grief was so familiar. And the way his thumb dug into your bicep as his hand shifted to your arm. He remembered holding this man in the same way you were… years ago… 

Echo approached now too, aware of the elephant in the room as you glanced between them. He too knew this man, your expression told him. He and Rex exchanged a worried look as your attention diverted to the man in your arms. 

“Hey… you ready, trooper?” You asked gently. 

He took a deep stuttering breath and nodded into your shoulder. 

You held his gaze and took another deep breath, and he matched it. And then you let your hand fall away from his temple. 

Rex and Echo’s faces went from concerned to stunned. 

There, beneath the light on his temple was one little number. One little number that meant everything to them. One little number belonging to a man they thought they’d never get back again. But it couldn’t be him… could it? 

Rex stepped forward and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. 

The man’s head lifted, a watery eye appearing slowly over your shoulder, red and puffy. A fresh tear streaked down his cheek as he looked at them for a moment. Then his eyes widened, and he sat back and looked at you as you watched him with kind eyes. His eyes held a look of disbelief in them. But you nodded at him, and he turned back to the men behind you. 

“Rex?” The trooper asked, his voice hoarse from disuse. 

Rex nodded, and flicked away a tear of his own he’d never admit to. 

“Fives?” A far more tentative voice behind Rex asked. 

The trooper blinked and looked past Rex, nodding. He knew this man too, but he was struggling to place him. Which seemed odd, given the amount of mods on this trooper, surely those would be hard to forget! …unless the man hadn’t had them when he’d known him? Those big eyes he knew well though. Not because every brother shared the same eyes, but because he knew how to tell a brother apart from their eyes. And these eyes he’d known since he was small. Always full of stronger emotions than any other brother he’d ever met, but always reserved and hidden, behind his helmet and regulations and adherence to being a perfect trooper to the letter… 

“Echo?” He asked, receiving a teary nod in return. “But… you died…” he mumbled. 

“So did you,” Rex chuckled, no longer trying to hide the tears on his cheeks as he clapped the man on the shoulder. 

You tried to step aside so Rex and Echo could hug Fives, but his grip on your waist tightened. He was staring in shock at Rex’s hand on his shoulder like he didn’t think he was real until then. 

“Easy, Fives, it’s ok. They’re really here too. It’s really them,” you encouraged. 

“Oh, Kark it,” Echo swiftly stepped forward and smooshed everyone into one big hug. He knew it was him, he didn’t have to ask, he knew his brother too well to be fooled by a fake, and so did Rex. 

For a few moments, none of you could say anything. Fives was alive! Which only made the reality of this room that much more horrible… but right now you wanted to focus on the fact that your favorite trio of the 501st was alive. 

Soon your shoulders were wet with tears from all 4 of you. 

No doubt it would also be filled with endless questions very soon when Howzer and the others inevitably came to investigate what created the change in plans that resulted in the theft of an entire room. But that could wait until the time came, right now, you had 3 tearful troopers to comfort. 

Fives lay on the exam bed, though it was more of a table honestly, only equipped with light padding… if it counted as padding at all, and you stood at the medical console adjacent to it. 

The droid on the other side of the bed was still scanning him. it had been for several minutes. 

That was odd, wasn’t it? Fives wondered. He looked up at you. 

Your eyes were wide and your face was growing more and more pale by the second. As he watched, you closed your eyes and looked away from the screen, swallowing hard. You held still for a moment, then shook your head like you were trying to clear it, and looked pointedly over at him instead of the screen, only to find him watching you with a question on his brow. 

You shook your head, glancing at the droid. “Just let us know when you have it all,” you told it. 

The droid simply kept scanning. 

You looked at him and perched on the cot next to him, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry they did all this to you. You hanging in there okay?” You ask gently. 

He nodded, nonchalantly, “Still doesn’t feel real. I remember it. Dying. Rex was there… and then I remember seeing your face looking at me in that tube… there are bits and pieces I can’t place. Bright lights overhead, voices I don’t know, blurs of dark and light mostly… then watching the cryotube closing around me… and starting to panic because I knew I couldn’t open it from inside… and then you, Mesh’la… I’m glad it was you that found me. I don’t know what I would have done if it had been someone I didn’t know. I’ve never been that scared before…” 

You took his hand and placed it in your lap, playing with his fingers in order to pointedly ignore the medical screen for a while longer. 

“I’m glad I found you too,” you told his fingers. 

“Scan complete,” the droid said, moving away to scan the sleepers in their cryotubes next. 

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for how bad it was. 

Fives looked up at you, the fear returning to his face, his breathing pattern trending towards hyperventilating. Something told you he was afraid of the scan results too. 

“Easy,” you patted his shoulder, “I don’t want to look at it yet either. Let’s just take a minute, okay?” 

Fives nodded, still staring at you, unsure what else to do. 

So you offered him a hug again. 

He immediately sat up to accept it. 

The broad-shouldered, strong, warrior seemed to shrink as he nestled into your arms like a scared tooka. 

“You’re safe here, Fives, I’ve got you. I’m here,” you muttered to try to comfort you both. 

Rex paused in the doorway, watching you comfort Fives for a moment, listening to you both avoid looking at the results of the medical scans. So he stepped forward to do it so neither of you would have to. 

He reached the screen at the same time you stood up, but he watched the color drain from your cheek as you skimmed it, and patted your shoulder, gesturing for you to sit back on the cot with Fives. 

You complied, but not because you wanted to, because the contents of your stomach were threatening to revisit the room if you didn’t. 

You swallowed hard, eyes trailing to the collar of Fives’ blacks, where it had begun to slide down his neck as he moved around. It didn’t quite fit like it used to, it seemed loose to him. 

He knew you must have seen something there in the scan, on his neck. 

Fives needed to know what, so he reached for the collar of his blacks and pulled it down, but he wasn’t looking at himself, he wanted to see your reaction to know how bad it was first as he undid the fasteners on his blacks and revealed his chest to you. 

Your eyes widened. After a moment you reached out to touch, then suddenly pulled back and covered your mouth, closing your eyes again. 

Fives looked down at his chest and froze. That sure seemed like more than just the blaster hole that he remembered… 

You tried again to reach out and touch the scar, but you seemed either unable to or unwilling to touch it without his permission. 

“Please,” was all he could get out. He looked up at you, to find you watching him with concern. “Please,” he said, desperation lacing his tone, though he wasn’t sure exactly what for. 

Your eyes went back to the scars on his chest, and your hands slowly, slowly finished their journey to his chest and made contact with the scar. 

He watched your fingers brush the raised skin so gently he wasn’t even sure if you’d actually touched him. But the coolness of your fingers made him shiver, so you must be in contact with his skin. 

Your fingers traced lines around his chest, out towards his limbs, and back in and around the circular patch on his chest. 

So that hadn’t been a dream. He’d actually… died? Or he’d at least been badly wounded? 

Beneath the skin knarled with the scar of a direct hit from a blaster burn, he could see the dark coloration of metal parts and scaras in perfectly straight lines radiating away from the scar, likely from surgery. That seemed to make his stomach churn uncomfortably. He didn’t want to look at it, so he placed a hand over yours, pressing your hand flat against his chest and focusing on the feel of your warm hand on his skin. He closed his eyes and let the warmth of you ground him for a moment as he took deep breaths. 

Echo appeared in the doorway. He’d had to leave when the droid started the scan. He couldn’t watch it knowing Fives had been through something similar to what he’d gone through. 

“Woah, Deja vu,” Echo’s voice sounded like it was lost in a memory. “Except last time… I was there.” He pointed to where Fives sat with his scomp. 

Fives opened his eyes, looking at his best friend, with watery eyes. 

Echo finally found the motivation to keep moving his feet into the room, but he was sniffling. 

Echo came up behind you and nestled into your shoulder as he sat behind you, resting his scomp on Fives knee, just to make sure he was actually there and this wasn’t a dream. 

Rex sniffled too as he glanced at the three of you. You always were the Domino Twins' favorite, and right now you were his favorite too. Favorite what didn’t matter, just favorite. 

“Geez, Fives… they really did a number on you,” Rex’s voice lacked its usual confidence as he continued to stare at the screen, knowing he was failing to mask his emotions as he stared at it. 

Suddenly he turned to the trio on the bed and placed a hand on Fives’ shoulder. “When they took your body from me…….. they never let me see you again……... Kenobi had to use the Force to calm my mind. I never thought I’d see you again…… certainly not… alive…” 

Fives grabbed his hand too, tears tracking down his face as the three of you looked up at Rex. 

You giggled through the tears a bit. 

“What?” Echo’s voice sounded like he was grumpy that his pillow was giggling. 

“Nothing, I just… I didn’t think you two could become more like twins, and now…. Well, here we are,” you chuckled, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. 

The three men laughed and squeezed you tight for a moment. 

Rex placed a kiss on your hair in thanks, and turned back to the screen. “Alright, well, that’s something to start from at least. How similar are you to Echo? What are the most important pieces to keep you functioning, and is there anything you know you need to change right off the bat? Then we can worry about disconnecting you entirely from whatever activation system is in that damned room.” He started mumbling to himself as he flipped through the pages and pages of finds from the droid. 

Regardless of what happened, you knew only one thing: the four of you had survived the war and would find a new normal, together. 

Rex laughed when he and Hunter found the three of you snuggled together, fast asleep by the bonfire that night, the ocean breeze keeping you company. You had each other, and you’d all find a way to get through this, whatever the Empire decided to do with you next. After all, he needed to find a way to get his brothers out of their cryotubes and back to being individually functioning people. Fives was still wearing your beskar helmet, as you’d discovered that it blocked the signal and kept him safe from reactivation, but it wouldn’t last forever. Time to see what Omega had told him she was preparing. It was a good thing Tech and Nala Se had trained her, Rex didn’t know what he’d do if she wasn’t there to help with this one. 

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it! And NO dropping it into an AI to finish it for me! That’s stealing my work and feeding it to an AI without my consent. It is not okay to give an AI something you didn’t write yourself! 

taglist: @cw80831

[vodika-vibes]

This is the Masterlist for characters I've only written a little for (this list is the most likely to change)

Late Nights - Droidbait x Reader Jealousy - Hevy x Reader Sinker x Reader Something New - Clone Trooper Comet x F!Reader (Smut) Just Us - ARC Captain Fordo x Reader (request) No Place Like Home For The Holidays - Fordo x Reader (request) The Sketchbook - ARC Captain Fordo x F!Reader (request) Once Isn't Enough - Clone Trooper Waxer x Reader (request) Do It For Me - ARF Trooper Hound x F!Reader We Belong Together - Clone Trooper Rys x GN!Reader (request) As Beautiful As The Day I Lost You - Captain Gregor x F!Reader (request)(Smut) I'm Still Here - Captain Gregor x F!Reader (request) His Distraction - CMO Grain (Clone OC) x Reader (request) Date Night with Xyn - Xyn (Clone OC) X Reader (Request)

[wild-karrde]

One Step at a Time - Part 7

Master List | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: After a long (and somewhat unplanned) hiatus, WE'RE BACK. I have seriously missed writing these guys. As always, thank you to the absolutely phenomenal @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading this chapter for me!

Chapter Rating: M

Warnings: language, graphic description of injury

Word Count: 7.7k words

The months bled together at such a blissful speed that life prior to the end of the war almost seemed to be something Chuckles had dreamed rather than experienced firsthand. Every once in a while, there was a reminder of their previous lives: Arni’s gaze growing distant when talking about something they’d learned, undoubtedly at the temple’s archives, the way Nita’s eyes occasionally flicked to the compartment her kyber crystal was stashed in, as though she could still hear it calling to her, or a glimpse of Chuck’s armor when he needed to retrieve something from the storage locker he’d stuffed it in. The magenta paint on the plastoid was beginning to become more obscured by a thick layer of dust as time progressed. Unconsciously, he always brushed the stars on his helmet clear before tucking everything back into place and closing the door to it.

The ship became more of a home as well. The bunk the younglings shared was now lit with strings of lights that Arni had salvaged and arranged in certain constellations to teach Nita about the different star maps. Dried flowers and some of Arni’s drawings were stuck to the interior walls, and a magenta painted trooper doll with stars on its helmet rested against the new pillows Oksann had made for them. Chuck and Ry had installed a crude pull-down bunk for him against one of the main walls of the hold, but Chuckles found that he actually had grown accustomed to sleeping in the pilot’s seat. He claimed it was for comfort, but deep down, he was certain that it was that he slept too deeply on the bunk. There wasn’t a night that went by where he hadn’t been afraid Broog’s brethren would come hunting him, even with the months that separated the incident. He hoped that one day, he’d feel safe enough to sleep on the bunk regularly, but for right now, he wasn’t done looking over his shoulder.

The kitchenette of the ship was now well-stocked with three wooden bowls that sat near the sink, two of them smaller than the third with matching cups. A vase sat in the middle of the small table, frequently filled with whatever flowers Nita had picked that day. The trees around the ship had larger lights woven in among their branches as well, and the path to and from the ship’s main hatch had become worn with footprints, tamping down the grass until it gave way to dark dirt that would turn to mud in Sorgan’s occasional rains.

It’s another rain that woke Chuck, the droplets softly pattering against the transparisteel of the ship’s forward viewport. The pilot shifted in his seat for a moment before a low grumble of thunder sounded in the distance, finally bringing his consciousness fully to bear. His amber eyes fluttered open, taking in the dark clouds looming above, swirling in the planet’s upper atmospheric winds. Inhaling deeply, Chuck breathed in the smell of rain and damp earth as he stretched his limbs above his head. His shoulders popped satisfyingly, and he sighed, rolling his head on his neck before running his hands through his dark curls. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d had his hair this long, but it was beginning to bother him slightly.

Maybe today’s the day I’ll finally take Ry up on that haircut she’s been offering.

About the fifth time he’d brushed his sweaty curls out of his eyes the week before, Ry had offered him a piece of fabric to tie around his forehead, keeping his bangs out of his face.

“I know you’re trying to look less like a soldier, but you might be taking it one step too far with that mop,” she teased quietly. “Why don’t you let me trim it a bit?”

“I think I’d rather have Oks do it,” he joked.

“Togrutas don’t have hair. What makes you think she’s qualified?”

“I’d take my chances.”

Ry had rolled her eyes before getting flagged down by a patron. The topic hadn’t come up again, but now as he noted his dark curls hanging over his eyebrows, he blew at them huffily, seriously reconsidering the offer.

The sound of the bunk door sliding open made him turn, and he suppressed a smile as Nita’s sleepy form emerged. She shut the door to allow Arni to keep sleeping before toddling over to him, rubbing her eyes. She shook her head, and that’s when he noticed her bangs were hanging in her eyes as well, her silver curls dangling slightly lower than his darker ones. He chewed the inside of his cheek.

Definitely might need to take Ry up on that haircut. And see if she’ll do one for Nita as well.

He’d made a ham-fisted attempt at trimming Nita’s hair early on and wound up with her silver locks looking more like an abstract art installation than a haircut fit for a child. Nita had giggled uncontrollably at the way her bangs had zig-zagged like a rocky mountain range across her forehead while Arni promised they could probably fix it. Chuckles hadn’t stopped apologizing until Arni had rectified the damage as much as they could.

Yeah. Gonna have to comm Ry later.

He grinned at the little Pantoran. “Morning, kiddo. You’re up early.”

Nita blearily returned the smile before leaning against the arm of his seat. “The thunder woke me up.”

Another bolt of lightning flashed in the sky, close enough to be followed by a loud growl of thunder seconds later. Nita jumped a little, reflexively stepping a little closer to Chuckles.

“You’re not scared are you?” he asked, glancing down at her.

“No,” she said, but he didn’t miss the way she chewed nervously at a fingernail. Leaning over, he scooped her into his lap, pulling the blanket he’d used the night before up over them both. Another bright flash of lightning erupted outside of the viewport, the thunder chasing it with an even louder roar this time that rattled the freighter. Chuck could feel the rumbling in the floor of the ship beneath his feet as Nita gripped his shirt, snuggling more into his chest.

Every now and then, Chuckles thought about how naturally he’d felt affection for the two younglings and how easily the hugs and snuggles had been when they were needed. He wasn’t certain if it came from constantly being surrounded by his brothers growing up, which often resulted in being tackled to the ground as a sign of affection or holding one another when things got tough. Either way, he’d never felt hesitant holding Nita or hugging Arni when it seemed that it would help, and they’d never appeared to feel uncomfortable around him, and he was grateful at least that much had been easy as they figured out how to be a family. He wrapped his arms around Nita a little tighter.

“I’ve got you, honey. It’s alright.” He rested his chin on top of her head, and he felt her shudder slightly.

“Why is it so loud?” she muttered with a hint of annoyance that made Chuckles grin, as if the fear was an inconvenience for her. He chewed the inside of his cheek to try and quell the laughter at her furrowed brows and exasperated expression as she glared at the storm clouds.   

“You know, when I was a cadet, I used to be afraid of the thunder too,” he said quietly. “You know what one of my trainers told me?”

Nita’s large golden eyes turned upwards to meet his. “What?”

“You know how everyone has their own set of gods or deities that they worship?”

She nodded.

“Well, the trainer told me that thunder and lightning were just them having a petty squabble. When the thunder comes, it’s because they’re really mad and are yelling at one another. My brothers and I used to try and decide what they might be arguing about. It was always silly stuff, like who had the most stylish outfit or whose turn it was to spin the galaxy on its axis.”

Nita giggled in his lap, turning to face the viewport and letting her head gently rest against him. “What do you think they’re arguing about today?” she asked.

Chuckles stroked his chin contemplatively as another flash of lightning and low rumble of thunder erupted outside. Nita jumped at the sound again, pressing back against Chuckles. He wrapped his arms around her a little tighter, and he felt her hands grip his forearms through the blanket.

“Oh, that definitely sounds like Kunik today,” he concluded.

“What’s a Kunik?”

“Kunik is the name of a Trianni goddess, and she’s all about bitter retribution and swift death. She’s not a lot of fun and really can’t take a joke.”

Nita huffed a quiet laugh, pulling the blanket up under her chin. “Who do you think she’s mad at?”

Chuckles shrugged. “Probably Nododo. He’s a Gungan god that is quite the prankster. I imagine he probably did something that got under her skin, and she’s letting us know all about it.”

“What do you think he did?” Nita asked.

“Maybe swapped her sugar for salt. Perhaps he dyed her hair in her sleep. Moved the stars in her constellations around. I hear she’s very particular about those.”

Nita giggled softly, facing forward and letting her head rest back against Chuckles as the lightning flashed again and the rain slapped against the viewport with a renewed fervor. When the thunder roared again, louder than before, Nita leaned forward on his lap.

“KNOCK IT OFF, NODODO!” she shouted, and this time, Chuckles couldn’t contain his giggle. He tipped his head back and laughed, loud and joyful from deep within his chest. He’d been having more of those moments lately, where he laughed from amusement rather than nerves or fear. His shoulders were relaxed, his chest warm as he grinned down at the young Pantoran.

“You tell ‘em, honey.”

Nita smiled, pushing herself off of his lap and coming to stand at the flight console, raising herself up on her toes as another bolt of lightning streaked past. “THAT’S ENOUGH, KUNIK!” The thunder ignored her scolding, but this time, she didn’t withdraw.

“JUST APOLOGIZE ALREADY!”

Chuckles leaned forward. “YEAH! APOLOGIZE!”

“YEAH!”

“What’s all the shouting about?” Arni asked, poking their head out of the bunk. Their lekku draped over the edge of the mattress, dangling towards the floor as they sleepily stared at Nita and Chuckles. The birthmark on their cheek stretched as they yawned before rolling out of the bunk and slowly making their way over to stand next to Chuckles’s chair.

“Kunik and Nododo are fighting, and I want them to just make up already,” Nita said matter-of-factly before turning back to the viewport, watching for more signs of the godly squabble. Arni shot Chuckles a questioning look.

“Tell you later,” he whispered. Arni nodded.

---

“Alright, kiddo, out of the water!”

“Oh, come on! Five more minutes!”

“Nope, I promised Ry we’d be over before supper so she could trim our mops. Now come on,” Chuckles teased, waving the towel he’d brought at Nita. She huffed a sigh before diving under the surface of the pond once more and swimming towards where he and Arni stood in the shallows. Arni had their pants rolled to their knees and was crouching in the water, sifting through the mud.

“Find anything?” Nita asked as she surfaced, clambering towards Chuckles, who wrapped her up in a towel, scooping her out of the water and carrying her towards the shore. The little Pantoran squealed as Chuckles rubbed a corner of the towel over her hair, ruffling it playfully. Her damp silver hair stood on end, and she giggled as she tried to smooth it down, only driving Chuckles to ruffle it more before blowing a raspberry against her cheek.

“Nothing interesting today,” Arni replied, tossing the stone they’d been examining and skipping it across the surface.

“That’s alright, kid. Less to carry with you. It’s a longer walk anyway,” Chuck said as he continued wading towards the shore.

The pond had become a frequent stop for the three of them when traveling into the settlement together. Arni had discovered it during one of their treks into the common house, wandering a little off the main path to find the clear little pond that seemed to be teeming with rocks and shells that the Twi’lek wanted to study. Fed by the rainwater, the pond was as clear as transparisteel in its shallows, revealing a treasure trove of items, and on the deeper end, it faded to a deep blue where you could still see a good distance into its depths. The first time they’d stopped, both of the younglings had stripped down to their underthings and waded in while Chuckles stood nervously on the shore.

He had never told the two younglings about the accident that had left the large scar across his face, but it was what kept him from wading into the crystal blue water. The fighter he’d been flying that day had a cascading failure that started with an electrical short in the system and completely fried all of his flight hardware.

“MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?!”

There was no response as the cockpit filled with the smell of burnt electronics and the craft began to lose altitude. Chuckles frantically tried to activate the control surfaces to slow his descent, but the fighter began to dive in an uncontrolled spin. The sky blurred past, and then the ocean, and then the sky again. It had been one of Kamino’s rare sunny days, the perfect day for flying. Until it wasn’t. 

Kriff. Not like this.

His heart leapt into his throat, quickly followed by his stomach as the cockpit flipped over again. He swallowed bile as his pulse hammered in his ears. Every emergency alert was screaming at him, the red and yellow alarm lights beginning to blur as his vision wavered. He fought against the urge to black out.

Handle. Find the eject handle. Under the left side of your seat.

The fingers of his left hand fumbled for the handle, his right hand braced against the side of the fighter. He felt the smooth metal rod with the grip on the end and almost giggled with relief. He tried to time it right, to where he was pointing towards the sky so he wouldn’t be shot into the sea. 

He really tried.

He pulled the handle. He waited.

Nothing happened.

He tugged again.

Nothing.

Chuckles let loose a roar of a curse, his eyes welling with tears of frustration. 

Not like this.

He gripped the handle and pulled with all of his might as the fighter swung upright once more.

The cockpit began to open. The charges blew. Chuckles felt his seat lurch before his body was slammed into the canopy, his helmet flying off and his face connecting with the shattered transparisteel. He felt warmth on his cheek as his body connected with the surface with a sickening thud. Blood ran in his eyes. The clear, razor-sharp shards rained down on around him, glinting in the sunlight as they sliced through his black undersuit and any exposed skin.

And then he was falling.

It felt like an eternity before his chute deployed, and when it did, the sharp tug of it made him yelp in pain. Every inch of his body ached and several places felt like they were on fire, but none of his flesh was burning. He reached up with a trembling hand and touched his face. His cheek seared, and his fingers came back covered in blood. He screamed in agony.

The water should have been a welcome embrace, but it was just a new threat to his survival. The salt in the water felt like it was embedding itself in his wounds, stinging the raw and bloodied flesh and adding to his pain so much he turned his head and vomited. He fumbled to try and feel for the flotation pack he had on his seat. His body barely functioned, and his frustration and fear grew. The seat was already underwater. The first wave rolled over him.

He was underwater, trying to keep his mouth closed, and yet his mouth was still filling with water. One of his arms wasn’t working, and it took forever to unlatch his flight harness and orient himself upwards.

Follow the bubbles. Remember your training. Focus. Survive.

Every kick against the water shot pain up his leg to his hip. He fought the urge to scream as he flailed towards the surface. His head broke the water, and he gasped for air, but just as soon as his lungs filled with air, another wave plunged him under once more.

He wasn’t certain how long he’d spent in the water, fighting death less and less with every passing wave. He had wondered what drowning would feel like, if he would hurt more than he already was, or if it would be a welcome relief. Just as he’d almost decided to let the next wave take him, the rescue ships had arrived. Ungentle hands had yanked him aboard as he screamed. The medic leaning over him had sworn under his breath, his helmet’s modulator doing little to mute it. Chuckles tried to take in his injuries, but every time he turned his head, he found broken limbs and bloodied flesh that he didn’t recognize. A slight pinch in his neck brought him the mercy of unconsciousness.

The recovery had been long, leaving permanent pain in some joints that would haunt him when the weather changed. His scar was the most visible reminder, but the dreams of black, cold waves pulling him under while water poured in through his cheek was what haunted him the most.

The first time Arni had waded out into the water, beckoning him, Chuckles had hesitated. His heart was hammering in his chest as his fingers drifted absently to the scar on his face. He had shuddered.

But he’d watched the two children squeal and splash in the water, their joy softening some of the fear he still harbored. Nita had waded out to a deeper part, paddling clumsily, her head occasionally slipping under the surface. She spluttered.

“Do you know how to swim, honey?” Chuckles had asked, his chest tightening with concern.

“I’m fine,” she called back before splashing awkwardly back to the shallows.

In that moment, Chuckles decided his fear was worth overcoming to ensure Nita would never flounder in the water the way he had that day.

You’re their pilot. Their protector. This is how you keep her safe. 

Taking a deep breath, he had stripped off his shirt and boots and waded in.

Visiting the pond had become a regular occurrence after that. Chuckles would teach Nita to swim and float while Arni dug around in the shallows for various treasures for them to catalog in their journal or bring home to decorate the ship. They found shells, beautifully worn stones, and even a few fossils. Other days, they joined Chuckles and Nita swimming, giving some pointers when Nita struggled and cheering her on when she mastered certain skills.

With time, Chuckles’s memory of the water changed, replaced with the memory of Nita squealing triumphantly as she made it across the pond’s depths and into his arms and Arni gleefully showing him their latest discovery. Soon, the water became a place he looked forward to visiting, a place that brought joy instead of fear.

Now, as he waded to the shoreline, the feel of the warm mud between his toes made him smile as he looked down at the tiny Pantoran he cradled, who was squirming in the towel he had wrapped around her. Arni was close behind, heading for where they’d placed their boots and socks. Chuckles set Nita on the grass before clambering up next to her, picking her outer clothing up off the grass and handing it to her. Nita mumbled something about wanting to swim a little more as she pulled her tunic over her head, and Chuckles smirked at her indignance.

“I know, I know, but we both really need haircuts, and we all know I’m no good at that.”

Nita gave him one last glare before she sat down to pull her boots on. Chuckles smiled at her, unphased. He’d seen what her real anger looked like, and he knew this wasn’t it.

Maker help anyone that crosses her when she’s a teenager.

He picked up the rucksack he’d carried, eyeing the mid-afternoon sun as he stuffed the towel back into the bottom of it. The days were lengthening as Sorgan’s northern atmosphere entered its summer season, and he was grateful that they weren’t likely to be walking home in the dark. Nita and Arni both pushed themselves to their feet, and the three of them headed back towards the main path that led to the settlement.

After another half an hour, they arrived at Ry and Oksann’s dwelling. It was a simple mortar and thatch building with a single front window that faced what served as a street. A few boxes of flowers hung from the window’s ledge, vines trailing down to the ground that were dotted with purple blooms. Arni stopped to examine them as Chuckles rapped his knuckles on the door. It opened and Oksann stood there, smiling at the three of them. She signed a greeting that Chuck returned before standing aside and welcoming them in.

Chuckles had been in the dwelling a few times, but he never tired of it. While their freighter had certainly turned into a more comforting place to reside, there was something to be said about a dwelling that was set firmly on the ground, one that was well-lived in and full of evidence of the people and the love that was housed within. It always smelled of earth, herbs, and whatever Oksann was cooking that day. The walls were covered in herbs and vegetables hanging to dry along with some paintings Ry had done and a few holos. The dwelling only had a main living area, a kitchen, a fresher, and a small side room that served as a bedroom. The main area centered a large wooden table that always seemed to be covered in projects that were clearly delineated between the two women. Ry’s side always had datapads and flimsi notes scattered across it while Oksann’s end had her embroidery or some other project laid out neatly, oddly complementing Ry’s chaos. 

The outside light still trickled in through the windows, casting long shadows and highlighting dust that swirled in the late afternoon light. Oks took the rucksack off Chuck’s shoulder as he removed his goggles and face mask. Setting the bag on the table, she peered inside and signed a quick thank you before carefully removing some of the items he and Arni had repaired for them. Arni stood to the side, signing to explain the fixes that had been made as the Togruta smiled patiently at them, letting them explain every facet of the repair. Her hand drifted over to some of the embroidery on the table, passing it down to Nita. 

What do you think? she asked.

Nita smiled as she signed back with one of the words Arni had taught her. Pretty. 

Oksann ran her fingers through Nita’s curls, playfully pushing some of them into her eyes as the little Pantoran giggled. 

“Definitely time for a trim,” Ry observed from behind them, coming from the kitchen and wiping her hands on a towel. Coming to stand next to her wife, her eyes roved over the items Chuck and Arni had repaired for them. “Thanks for taking care of these so quickly.”

“Not an issue,” Chuckles replied. “Especially since you’re helping out with the haircuts.”

“Alright, don’t build me up too much,” Ry teased. She squatted down in front of Nita. “You want to go first, sweet girl?”

Nita nodded, and Ry lifted her up onto the table, sitting her on just the edge. “Just the bangs and a bit of a trim then?”

Nita looked over at Chuckles, and he nodded at her. “Tell her what you want, kiddo. It’s all up to you.”

The little Pantoran grinned. “Yeah, I want to keep it long enough to tie up in the ribbons if that’s alright.”

Ry walked over to where a clean stack of laundry was sitting folded in a well-worn chair, pulling a towel from the pile and wrapping it around Nita’s shoulders. “Alright? That sounds perfect to me.” Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a pair of scissors and a comb and immediately went to work on Nita’s silver tresses. Chuckles pulled out a chair next to the table and sat down to watch as Nita’s feet swung while Ry worked, occasionally pausing and tilting the little girl’s chin so that she could inspect her work. Arni had pulled Oksann over to the corner and was signing at her while pointing at some of the vegetables and herbs that were hanging up to dry. Arni had been teaching Chuckles how to sign, and he had learned enough words to at least gather that Arni was asking Oksann what each bundle was and the drying process. The Togruta explained everything in depth, and he couldn’t help but smile at how Arni’s eyes lit up with each new bit of knowledge that was imparted upon them. 

The kid loves to learn about anything and everything. And even more impressive, they remember it all.

“Alright, I think that’ll do it,” Ry said after a while, brushing the last trimmings of hair out of the way and stepping back to see the final result. Helping Nita down, she guided her over to a floor length mirror that was leaned up against one wall. “What do you think?”

Nita stepped closer to the mirror, turning her head and carefully inspecting the haircut from every angle before nodding firmly. “It’s good. Thank you.” 

Ry smiled at her. “Glad to help.” She turned to Chuckles. “Alright, your turn, Pops.” She removed the towel from Nita’s shoulders, shaking the clippings into the floor, and draping it over Chuck. She strode to the refresher, returning a few seconds later with a pair of powered clippers. Leaning down, she ruffled his curls experimentally. “So just a trim or you want me to buzz it all?”

“A mohawk!” Nita exclaimed. Chuckles turned and raised an eyebrow at her. She shrugged. “You had one when you found us, and I liked it. I was sad when you shaved it off.”

“A mohawk huh?” Ry asked teasingly. “Somehow not surprising in the least.”

“It was dyed a funny color too,” Nita added, coming to stand directly in front of Chuckles, her chin resting in her hand as she appraised him. “You should dye it again.”

Chuckles tipped his head back and laughed loudly at the tiny Pantoran before him. Nita furrowed her brow as Chuck leaned forward in the chair, his smile threatening to split open his face.

“And what color do you think I should dye it, honey?”

Nita’s eyes widened at the burden of the choice. She glanced over to Arni, who was watching the entire exchange with quiet interest. “Just a second,” Nita said quickly before walking over to Arni, whispering loudly. “What color do you think?”

Arni leaned over, whispering into her ear, and her eyes lit up before she became quite serious, nodding to Arni as if to confirm her agreement. She turned back to Chuckles and Ry. “Blue,” she stated with a note of finality.

Ry chuckled before turning to her wife and signing something. Oksann laughed quietly, tapping her finger on her chin before she nodded, signing something back. “Seems as though she might have the flowers we need to make a blue dye. No promises about how well it’ll work, but we’ll see what we can do. She’s done clothing dye before. Surely hair can’t be that hard.”

“You’ll have to bleach it first.”

Ry shrugged. “Easy enough. Believe it or not, I used to bleach some parts of my hair, but gave up when the common house got busy.”

Chuck’s eyes widened. “Now that is surprising.” 

Ry nudged him in the shoulder. “Watch it, or I’ll shave something weird into the sides.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened,” he joked.

Nita squealed with delight. “YOU’RE GONNA HAVE BLUE HAIR! YOU’LL BE BLUE TOO!”

Chuckles’s smile widened at the realization as to why they’d chosen that color.

I’ll match the kids. 

Ry rested her hand on his shoulder as she addressed the younglings. “Alright, why don’t you two go help Oks get dinner started and then go see if you can find those flowers out in the garden? It’ll take a while for the broth to simmer, and the bread needs an hour or two to bake, so better to start sooner than later. Think you can handle that?”

Both of the younglings nodded eagerly, scuttling off towards the kitchen with Oksann in tow, giggling loudly. Chuckles stared after them, his smile wide until he felt Ry watching him.

“What?”

She shrugged. “Just the first time I think I’ve heard you genuinely laugh in all the time that I’ve known you. It’s a nice sound.” She ran her fingers through his hair again before her hands trailed down the stubble on his face that he’d allowed to grow out in a short haphazard beard. “You could use a shave too.”

“What, you don’t like the beard?”

“That’s less of a beard and more of a womp rat’s nest, Chuckles.”

He smirked. “Doesn’t exactly grow in even around the scar, but I don’t have anything to shave with on the ship. At least, nothing I’d trust around it after my first attempt with the clippers. Almost wound up with even more of a scar.”

“Well lucky for you, I’d hoped to coerce you into a shave today, so I bought supplies. Also, next time a trader comes through, I’ll see if I can grab you a real razor. Seems like there’s a little bit of everything nowadays. And I can’t have my employees looking like Wookiees. Well, unless they’re actually a Wookiee. Now stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Ry strode back to the refresher, returning a few minutes later with a bowl of hot water, a small towel slung over one shoulder, and a box, which she set on the table next to the chair. “Alright, do you trust me?”

“With my life. Most days.”

Ry rolled her eyes. “Good.” She pulled a straight razor from the box next to her along with a smaller towel and other shaving supplies. Taking the small towel, Ry dipped it into the bowl, which was steaming slightly, drenching it completely and wringing it out before gently draping it on his face. “Relax,” she said quietly. “I’ve done this before.”

“When was that?” Chuck asked, his voice slightly muffled by the towel. 

Ry paused before exhaling sharply. “My father, a long time ago. He injured his hand on our farm, and he was stubborn and refused to go to the healer, so it never really worked the same. He tried to shave with it despite everything, and wound up bleeding all over the place, so I took over that task. I could at least get him to agree to that much. My mother had a tremor in her hands, so there was no way she could do it.”

“I guess you come by your stubbornness honestly,” Chuckles joked quietly from beneath the towel. When Ry didn’t answer, he pulled the towel off and looked at her. Her gaze was locked on the straight razor in her hand, distant, and her eyes were misty. “Ry, I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to dishonor his memory.”

Ry huffed a laugh, rubbing at her eyes. “No, you’re right. My mother always said I was more like him than anyone.”

“Were they both lost in the attack?”

“No, actually. Dad died the winter before, and Mom followed shortly after. I was fortunately on my own when our settlement was attacked.” She set the razor down, coming over and taking the towel from his hands, flipping it over her shoulder again as she reached for a bottle of oil, rubbing it between her hands before she placed her hands on his face, gently working it in. Chuckles had the sudden realization he couldn’t remember the last time someone touched his face. Ry’s hands were calloused and rough from her work at the common house, but she was unexpectedly gentle. She reached over for a second bottle, working its contents into a lather before carefully smearing it on his face. She rinsed her hands and dried them before picking up the razor. “Alright, now the trick is for you to not move, got it?” 

Chuckles looked at the glinting blade before swallowing hard. “Got it.” 

Ry firmly gripped his face, tilting him to the angle she needed. His fingers nervously flexed at his side as she brought the blade to his skin. Her eyes darted down to them, and she stepped back. “We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable, Chuckles.”

He exhaled deeply. “No. It’s ok.” He met her eyes. “I trust you.” 

She nodded, approaching again, and he felt himself relax as she pulled his skin taut and the blade made its first stroke near his sideburn. 

Ry worked quickly, cleaning the blade in the water as she worked her way down his cheek and across to the other one, moving cautiously around the scar on his cheek. She made certain to narrate everything she did, and slowly, he felt his shoulders release their tension. There was something oddly intimate about it, and Chuckles slowly felt some of the nerves slip away. 

You trust her. She won’t hurt you. You can let your guard down here.

Ry shaved away the remnants of his mustache before carefully working the blade over his chin. “And now, the neck. This part’s the trickiest, but I’m good at it. Just don’t fidget.” He swallowed again, and he knew she saw by the way her eyes followed the bob of his Adam’s apple. “You’ve trusted me this far, and you’ll look silly if I quit now.” 

“I trust you,” he repeated. 

She placed her hand on his face, tilting his head as she ran the blade in short, sure strokes over the skin on his throat. After a few minutes, she stepped back again, rinsing the blade a final time and setting it on the table. She took the towel off of her shoulder, gently wiping at his face. “There. That’s better,” she said softly. “And not a single cut. Told you I was good.” 

Chuckles grinned. “Never had a doubt.” 

She rolled her eyes at that. “Alright, time to do something about that hair.” 

Swimming by @ninjigma

---

The dye Oksann had fashioned out of her flowers wasn’t necessarily vibrant, but it definitely held the color for a long time. Even several weeks later, as Chuckles was preparing to walk into town for the morning work at the common house, he grinned at his reflection in the mirror on the freighter. It was a face he hadn’t seen since before the end of the war, one he recognized more, clean-shaven thanks to the razor Ry had procured for him with a short mohawk that wouldn’t get mashed down under a helmet this time. He ran his fingers through the blue strands.

Wonder what other colors Oks can make. Definitely might have to get a little experimental. I bet she can whip up teal. I think I liked that color the best. 

Throwing a jacket on, he checked on the younglings in their bunk one last time. They were both fast asleep still, Arni snoring quietly with one of their lekku flung over their eyes while Nita was curled up in a ball, clutching her trooper doll. He slid the freshly greased bunk door closed before opening the hatch and stepping outside. 

The days were getting warmer, but the mornings were still comfortably cool. The grass alongside the path was dewy as Chuck made his way into the settlement. His goggles and face mask were in place once more. While he trusted Ry and Oks, he still wasn’t ready to put his faith in strangers yet. 

Maybe someday it’ll be safe to be a clone outside of an Imperial uniform, but not yet.

As he approached the common house, loud voices carried to Chuckles’s ears from inside, and he slowed his stride.

Who is Ry terrorizing already? We’re not even open for another hour.

Pushing through the door, he froze at the sight of stormtrooper armor and Imperial grey. An officer stood facing Ry, datapad in hand. Four stormtroopers flanked him, E-11s gripped tightly as they stood at attention. Ry’s hands were on her hips, her eyes blazing and jaw clenched. Oksann stood behind her quietly, hands clasped in front of her.

“This is a private establishment. You have no right to come in here and interrogate me,” Ry snapped.

“I actually have every right, Miss-“

The sound of the door swinging shut behind Chuckles drew everyone’s attention. He stood there, frozen, his pulse hammering in his ears. The Imperial officer that Ry was arguing with turned to appraise him with an entirely disinterested expression, as if Chuckles were a child that had wandered into an adult conversation and rudely interrupted them. Ry met his eyes behind his goggles, her expression shifting slightly before it hardened again.

“We’re still fucking closed,” she snarled. “Come back in an hour.”

Chuck’s heart stuttered in his chest as he realized what Ry was doing. He glanced at Oksann. Her hands were hanging at her side now, and her left one was clenching and unclenching rapidly. On a second look, Chuckles realized she was signing to him.

You have our hearts. Be safe brother. Run.

Chuckles mumbled some apology at Ry. He could have sworn her eyes were glistening, and she gave him the slightest nod, jutting her chin out defiantly.

The clone turned, walking outside as slowly as he would allow himself.

“Hey, wait a minute, mohawk.”

He froze. The voice was the same as his own, a brother. The last time he’d heard a brother’s voice, it had been seconds before he killed him. Now, he resisted the urge to reach for the blaster at his hip. 

It’ll only get Ry and Oksann killed too. Just let them take you.

His heart fell.

Please let Ry and Oks take care of the kids. Or at least get them to a safe place. 

He turned back to face them. One of the stormtroopers had begun to stride towards him. Ry’s eyes were frantically flicking back and forth, but Oksann was moving towards him quickly. She stepped in between the two of them, signing something angrily at the stormtrooper. The trooper went to shove Oksann out of the way, and that seemed to snap Ry out of her stupor. She charged forward, grabbing him by his shoulder bell and shoving him backwards. 

“Don’t. Touch. Her.” The venom in her voice was apparent.

“I don’t know what the kriff she’s saying,” he muttered.

“She’s telling you to stop fucking harrasing our patrons.”

“I need to see his identification.”

“He’s a drunkard that stumbles in here every morning. You’ll be lucky if you get a coherent sentence out of him at this hour.” 

Chuck’s knees were shaking under him. The stormtrooper stared down Ry for a moment before his commanding officer sighed in exasperation. 

“Stand down CT-1793. If he’s a regular, you may inspect his credentials later.” The clone trooper stared at Ry for a few more seconds, who met his visored gaze unwaveringly, before turning and striding back to his squad. Chuck could see some of the tension leave Ry’s shoulders as Oksann turned to him, resting her hand on his chest. Her eyes shone as she gave him a small smile, pushing him towards the door. Ry turned to face him, her voice cracked with anger, but he knew it was more frustration than anything. “I told you to get out. Now go.”

Chuck nodded. He stumbled back outside on unsteady legs, trying to keep his breathing even.

You’ve got to get back to the kids. You’ve got to go.

He turned the corner and broke into a sprint back towards the ship as soon as he was out of sight, swallowing the lump in his throat and ignoring the sting in his eyes as he ripped his commlink from his belt. As soon as he got far enough away from the settlement, he clicked the comm on.

“Arni, you there kid?”

It felt like it took an eternity for the Twi’lek to answer, and Chuck was about to try again when the youngling’s voice crackled through the link.

“Yeah, Nita and I just finished breakfast. We were about-“

“Kid, listen to me.”

Something in his tone must have given it away. Arni fell silent.

Chuck was panting, more from the tightness in his chest than the running.

“Pack up the ship and prep it for takeoff. We’ve got to go.”

Arni didn’t answer for a moment, and Chuckles could practically picture the kid looking around the ship, realizing their home was about to be uprooted, that there would be no goodbyes. He wondered if Nita had been within earshot.

“Alright,” they replied quietly. They didn’t need to ask why.

“I’m jogging back now.” He paused. “We’ll be alright.” He knew the reassurance sounded hollow. 

“Ok. I’ll try to get pre-flight done before you get here.”

“Thanks kid.” His voice cracked, and he huffed in frustration as he tucked his commlink back in his belt.

The entire run back, he kept replaying the last moment with Ry and Oksann in his mind. They protected us. They didn’t have to, but they did. His eyes stung again, and he finally ripped off the goggles and face mask, pausing to bend over, his hands gripping his knees tightly as he fought the sob threatening to rip from his chest. 

Another home lost. 

Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and he clenched his teeth tightly as he unleashed a muted roar, squatting down to pound his fists into the dirt, once, twice, and then burying his face in his hands. 

Gotta keep moving. 

He inhaled and exhaled sharply, straightened, wiped his eyes, and continued jogging. 

When he turned into the grove of trees that the ship sat in, he could hear arguing, and his chest tightened again. Arni was up in the trees, pulling the lights down while Nita stood on the ramp of the ship, one arm clutching her doll while the other pointed accusingly at Arni. 

“Nita, please, we have to get going. Can you make sure all of the stuff in the kitchen is stowed?” Arni’s voice was strained, and he could tell they were trying to reason with the tiny Pantoran. 

“I told you, you must have heard Chuckles wrong. We can’t be leaving. We should wait until he gets here. Otherwise you’re just messing up everything for no reason.” Her voice was angry, and his heart broke. At the sound of his footsteps, her head whipped around, and the hopeful expression she wore nearly shattered him. “Chuck, you gotta tell Arni to stop taking down the lights.” 

He stopped in front of her, squatting down. “Nita, honey, we have to go.”

Her bottom lip trembled, and he watched the last inkling of hope fade from her eyes. “But we can’t. What about Ry and Oksann?”

He rested his hands on her shoulders. “They’re going to be just fine. In fact, they made sure I got away from the Imperials safe. We can’t let that effort go to waste.”

“But what if the Imperials leave? They might! Then we could stay.”

Chuckles sighed, cupping her cheeks that were steadily dampening with tears. “Honey, we can’t stick around and find out. It’s too risky. I have to keep you and Arni safe. It’s what Ry and Oksann want. It’s what I want. We will make another home somewhere.” 

Nita was no longer trying to hold back her tears, whimpering quietly. “But I wanted here to be our home.” 

Chuckles pulled her into a hug. “I know honey. Me too.” He leaned back, wiping her tears with his thumbs. “But you know what? My home is wherever you and Arni are. As long as we’re together, we have a home. Alright? Pinky promise we’ll make another good one somewhere.”

He held out his pinky. Nita stared at it for a few seconds before turning and walking wordlessly back into the ship, sniffling loudly. Chuckles stayed frozen for another moment, his pinky still extended before he sighed, pushing himself to his feet. Arni hopped to the ground with a thud behind him, winding the lights around their arm. “Pre-flight should be about complete. I’ve got everything else packed.” Their eyes followed Nita’s small form as she disappeared inside the ship. “Will she be alright?”

Chuck rested a hand on their shoulder. “Yeah. She’s upset. She doesn’t understand yet. But she’ll be alright.” He looked down at Arni, meeting their brown eyes. “You did well.”

Arni nodded, but didn’t say anything. The two of them walked up the ramp to the ship.

Chuckles slid into the pilot seat as Arni went and got Nita strapped into one of the rear jump seats. Chuckles peered over his shoulder at the tiny Pantoran. Nita’s gaze was distant, her eyes still red with tears, and she clutched the trooper doll tightly to her chest. Arni was speaking quietly to her, but she wasn’t responding much. The most she did was nod, which Arni seemed to find acceptable. They gave her hand a squeeze before slipping into the co-pilot seat next to Chuckles. 

“Where to?” they asked, pulling up the navicomputer display. 

“The nebula. We can think of something there. How are we on supplies?”

“Can probably hold up a week, two if we stretch it.”

Chuck nodded, punching on the engine ignition. The engines whined from a few months of no use before roaring to life. He checked their status readouts, satisfied that they were functioning nominally before taking the steering yoke. It felt almost foreign in his hands after the last few months. He sighed. 

“Alright. Let’s get out of here.” 

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