#vod ‖ marshal commander cody

[cc1010fox]

Fox: I hate jetiise...

Cody, staring at Vos who is holding Fox's hand: ...Really?

Fox: Look, he grew on me, ok?

Cody: Aw--

Fox: Like fungus on a corpse.

Cody: ...

Vos: It's because he's dead inside.

Fox: He gets me~.

[musewrangler]

Canon.

Alpha-17, scruffing a growling cadet: this is my son Wolffe, he keeps trying to bite my throat out with his teeth *puts the growling cadet down, then scoops up a different cadet, this one snarling* Alpha-17: this is my other son Fox, he almost bit a chunk out of my leg yesterday *returns the snarling cadet to the floor just in time to snatch a third cadet out of the air as they try to pounce on him from behind* Alpha-17: this is also my son Cody, he keeps trying to flying tackle me-

[izzystizzys]

the thing about being the highest-ranked and most-decorated officer in any GAR/Guard capacity, fox thinks, is that unsurprisingly nobody could give less of a shit or listen to anything he says. it’s not like he earned those medals and recognitions and perfect test scores or anything, now is it, kote?

or, after the zillo beast disaster, the coruscant guard medbay just so happens to be much closer than the GAR one, and surprise surprise, senators don’t want meatdroids to be treated in their facilities after they’ve just protected them with their lives. fox tries to reason against this. fox is unsuccessful, because no one listens to fox.

which is how he finds himself crammed into a corner along with cody, ponds, bly, rex and their jedi, looking out across a medbay which is quite frankly a goddamn disaster rivalling the fight with the zillo beast in proportions. skywalker tries to step out towards one of the medics, and has to be pulled back by the collar of his shirt by amidala, squawking loudly when he’s nearly rammed over by mauler, crucifix and a shrilly screaming crash cart.

it’s not like fox said this would be a bad idea or anything.

“um, vod”, cody begins, unsure, “what’s - is that guy sewing wooley up with thread?!”

meathook, who is in fact sewing wooley up with thread, and looks about as happy about it as his patient, and who fox honestly thought was going to cry when he announced the influx of patients about to descend on them, snaps something about triage over his shoulder at hound, whose arm is decidedly bent in a way it shouldn’t be, jerking his head to gesture at the rickety cot next to cody’s ARC. fox is pretty sure they salvaged the thing from a dumpster. he slaps a bandage on the stitches that fox fears might be from the same dumpster.

“putting those advanced reconnaissance training skills to use, kote”, says fox, who invariably turns into the worst possible version of himself whenever cody opens his mouth within a klick of his vicinity.

skywalker harrumphs, evidently at the end of his impressive patience. “well, why?! hey, trooper! these men need bacta!”

“do they, now? i’m sorry, i hadn’t noticed”, a low voice hisses angrily behind them, and fox is the only one who doesn’t jump on account of he’s too dead inside to be scared of his CMO anymore. a grave error, he’s sure. “i guess i’ll just go pull some out of my ass along with a tank and painkillers, then! hadn’t thought of that yet!”

warcrime, whose eye is twitching and who is holding a bloody saw in visible consideration of using it, pins skywalker with a look that has had shinies all over the guard peeing themselves. “we don’t have any fucking bacta, you absolute numbskull.”

“but that can’t be right”, cody pipes up again, next to a very troubled looking generals kenobi and windu. fox sympathises very much with the patented migraine-glare on windu’s face. “why do you not have any bacta?”

“because i like to smear meiloorun juice all over my patient’s stab wounds, commander”, warcrime says. “it’s a homeopathic medicine thing. because the chancellor refuses to give us any, genius.”

“what?!” skywalker says, bristling. “that can’t be true! he wouldn’t -“ he’s cut off by his comm pinging loudly over the moaning and crying in the medbay, and warcrime leaning close enough to be heard with a whisper.

“well, he would, and if you don’t believe me, there’s a holorecording of him telling marshal commander fox why biological weapons on the homefront have lower priority and therefore half rations of everything. now get out of my medbay or find out why they named me warcrime, sir.”

amidala, the collective braincell holder for both her husband and the senate combined (on occasion), tugs him out of the way of warcrime’s bonesaw and ire. fox, who very much enjoys not being the primary target of a medic for once, unfortunately also has to be the adult in the room. “sirs, a transfer to the GAR barracks medbay might be a preferable- AH, MOTHERFU-“

“get him, stabby!”, rabid whoops from where he’s resetting thire’s nose, who echoes a much more nasal and muffled, “go, ftabby!”

“get kriffing FUCKED, stabby, you absolute-“, fox seethes, trying to swipe for the medic’s head and nearly planting one on cody instead by accident, who unfortunately manages to evade the swing fox is admittedly projecting very obviously on account of the sedation hypo jammed into his flank.

“medbay rules, sir”, stabby calls, dancing away towards mauler and his crash cart, while someone bumps something solid and flat against the backs of fox’s thighs that he can’t help but tumble back on, already seeing two codys and blys dancing around his vision. “commander fox protocol dictates he is to be helped to sleep as often as possible, sir.”

“a desperate but well-founded measure, i’m sure”, kenobi of all people agrees, and fox waves an unsteady hand in what might be the general’s direction to the sound of cody’s scandalized gasp. “as you were, officer… stabby.”

“traitors”, fox slurs, just as his com-unit begins to ping with an urgent notification. before he can try and answer it, warcrime has ripped it off his arm and flung it somewhere out of his sight. eh, it probably wasn’t anything THAT important, fox thinks. and if he wakes up two days later to a near-hysteric meathook kissing the glass casing of the guard’s brand new bacta tank over and over again, he decides to just roll over and go back to sleep.

[enigmatist17]

He remembers the day he was first called Kote.

The pride had swelled in his chest so much he smiled, a real smile as vod alike hugged him after they were allowed to rest after a brutal day of training. Sure, his nose was broken and still bloodied, but the adrenaline of being named was enough to drown out the pain as he and his brothers celebrated with stolen rations and a drink of unspoken origin.

Kote remembers the day his name changes to Cody, hidden under the title of Commander as the war begins.

He's not sure why it has to change, but figures the Jetti they now finally serve don't understand the name. The one called Kenobi hadn't had trouble with it after he had chased Jango and his kih'vod off and away from Komino, but the longnecks say he is Cody, so now he is. Commander Cody's reputation spreads from the beginning of the war with both how quickly he takes to leadership and with the particular Jetti he serves, his yellow armor a beacon for most when he and the 212th charge across the battlefield. He's the first of 4 to be promoted to Marshal Commander, Cody grinning underneath his bucket at the cheers from his men, and the joy radiating from his General as he pins the commendation on his armor.

Cody remembers the day Obi-Wan said his name softly, walking beside the commander toward whatever they had been doing.

They never did make it to their final destination, instead, Cody nearly kicks down the door to an empty room and drags the Jetti inside. Lips meet before their brains catch up, and that damn cloak he's always dropping on the battlefield is now in the way as he aches to hold Obi-Wan close. He can't remember when he started wanting Obi-Wan, the man who understood his normally neutral mannerisms without the need to ask, and completed him in a way he never knew he was incomplete. Cody could melt when Obi-Wan cups his face, saying something but going unheard as he drank in those dazzling eyes and reddened cheeks, smiling for the first time in a long while. He's never been a selfish man, but Cody can't help but think that Obi-Wan is the first thing he's ever wanted for his own, and hopes that it will be easy to make this clear. Of course, Cody doesn't have to try, Obi-Wan always knows, calling him dear and darling after they eventually leave their little spot away from the world.

Cody remembers the first day he was just Cody to those he loves, Commander by day to clean up the corruption and devastation from a war finally ended.

It was a long process, just because the Sith behind it all was gone did not mean his collaborators were just going to stop, but it was fulfilling. Clankers were cut down with ease now they didn't have the drop on the clone troopers, and the rapidly dwindling numbers meant more time away from the front lines. More time to see worlds he had only seen in snippets or brief times on the surface, time to see survivors they'd help save, time to sit in the Temple on Coruscant and listen to Obi-Wan be a leading force towards a better Republic. Cody still finds it strange that most natborns were less hostile as the days pressed on, and sometimes sits with Fox to wonder if the Sith could control so many people on the neverending planet, to which they both shrug and agree that the Force was too weird to try and figure out.

Cody remembers the first time little Luke and Leia called him Ori'vod Kote, the little tubies scooped up into his arms with matching giggles.

Kote enjoys living on Naboo whenever he can drag Obi-Wan away from his work, chuckling when Luke usually traces his many scars while Leia asks for stories with an intense look on her face. He wonders how quickly a tubie can become a Senator, a question that causes Padme to launch into laughter and Skywalker to cover his face with his hands, which in turn makes their children laugh. Kote sometimes thinks of having his own tubies when he and Obi-Wan leave the planet after their visits but knows that their work needs to be finished before that can be allowed, as none of his will live in such a dangerous universe. Still, his (slightly still dangerous) life that Kote has is as perfect as it can be for now, and that's all he really needs.

---------

Happy 2/2/24 day to my favorite Marshal Commander!

[musewrangler]

😂😂😂😂

Commander Conversations ~

Cody: Fox, did you kill Palpatine?

Fox: No. A bullet killed him. Bullets are made of lead, and lead is from the ground. The ground is part of nature. Therefore, he died of natural causes. Case closed.

Cody: ...How did you ever become a cop?

Fox: I didn't have a choice.

[gaeasun]

Uhhhh Happy Fox day here's the excerpt with him in it from my infinitely long WIP

Cody doesn’t bother to knock first, though Fives isn’t sure if that’s because he’s a Marshall Commander or because he’s Commander Fox’s younger brother. 

“Hello dear kih’vod.” Commander Fox doesn’t bother rising to greet his guests. He reclines in his chair as much as it’s possible to be, fingers endlessly twirling a datapad stylus. “So nice to finally see you, after these harrowing few days.” Cody pinches the bridge of his nose. “Look, Fox, I told you I’m sorry, but the op to kill Palpatine had to be compartmentalized. I know you read the memo about the chips–” “Mm, chips? What kind of chips? I heard the natborns make some real tasty ones out of tuber slices.” “The mind-control chips!” Cody nearly shouts. This is the most riled up Fives has ever seen him. Rex looks pained, like he’s seen it before but doesn’t like it. Jesse’s face is stuck in a shadowed scrunch. 

“Oh, thoooose chips.” Commander Fox pauses his twirling to look at his stylus closely before resuming its infinite journey. “Kot’ika, if you really wanted to know what those chips do, all you had to do was ask.” Cody starts. That sheer shock and surprise is also a new expression. Fives thinks Cody took the whole “the Chancellor is a Seppie traitor and an evil power-ravenous Sith” news more in stride than the marbles the Corrie Commander keeps throwing in his path. “Me’ven*?”

Commander Fox continues smoothly on. “Now, I didn’t know that the wrinkly old plastic bag was a Sith, granted, but I knew he wasn’t some kindly old ba’buir. I knew that something was causing me and the other Commanders to black out and wake up covered in blood, ours and others, chips or otherwise. I knew that, whatever was happening to me and all my men, the Chancellor at absolute best, didn’t care.”

“Sir,” Jesse finally cuts in. “Commander Cody, this is what I needed to tell you. The Corries are treated like dirt here.” “Dirt’s a valuable resource on Coruscant,” Commander Fox corrects. “Being a whole planet-wide city and all that. It’s in limited supply, so it’s protected. I’d love to be treated like dirt.” 

“I’ve been talking to a lot of the Corries. Their idea of normal is… well.” He glances over at Commander Fox. “Disturbing.”

Commander Fox shrugs. “We were born for the Republic, vod.” He looks pointedly at Jesse’s tattoo. “When did you get the idea it was so we could live for it?”

Cody takes a whole five seconds to respond. “Fox- why, why didn’t you tell someone? Tell me? Or at least tell the Jedi?”

“Well, let’s see.” Commander Fox ticks off his fingers. “Tell the Senators- hm. No. You were busy leading an entire Corps, as were our other batchmates. And the Jedi?” He laughs. “You mean the ones who commissioned our production, and then had no problem showing us right to the warzones so we could fight for them and die in droves?” He smacks down his final finger with the stylus. “Vod, whatever options you think we had, we didn’t.” “Wolffe wasn’t a Marshall Commander,” Cody says weakly. “That’s an excuse.”

“Well, then I guess it was because I didn’t feel like it.”

[catboydogma]

Ur taking prompts? Could I request some fox angst? loved CTHONIC

this is (checks notes) two and a half years late but i finally did it, fellas. thank u for the prompt anon (yes i am taking prompts feel free to send prompts) and i'm glad u enjoyed chthonic!

cross-posted to ao3

wc: 2244

notes: gen, mild language, angst with a happy ending, cody's in here too, fluff, i'm gonna be honest this turned out less angsty than i thought it would but i hope it still fills your heart, anon. not quite hurt/comfort but something adjacent

1800.

Fox rubbed his eyes. He glanced at the time again.

1801.

The numbers were lying to him. They had to be lying to him. He’d been in this office reviewing mission debriefs and time sheets and finalized schedules—version 5.2.7 final final, no, really, recent final, Commander Thorn’s version—for an entire year. But the time said he still had two hours to go before his shift ended—and he could leave all the datapads and shit in his office—and go down to 79’s to talk to Cody. This was the first leave the 212th had actually been allowed to dock dirtside and not be immediately recalled for some emergency to whatever “biggest catastrophe of the tenday” the Senate found on the docket. Cody had said something about Kenobi threatening to go spare if they didn’t get at least half their actual promised leave. Fox had thought—but hadn’t said anything, in a noble and selfless show of self-restraint—that maybe Kenobi should be allowed to go spare, just this once, just to see what would happen. But it was likely that would happen anyway; the Third Systems army was notorious for a royally fucked deployment schedule.

1805.

Shit. Fox stifled a yawn and scrawled his signature across the bottom of another datapad before stacking it onto the “finished” pile. Or, in this case, the “for some little shit Corporal to cart to Stone” pile.

He would finish these forms. He would get the whole priority stack done. Then he would clean his teeth. Do something about his hair. And he would go out.

1807.

Prime’s cock. Fox was going to die here buried by a pile of datapads and formwork. Seppies didn’t have anything on the fucking roaches that ran Senate InSec. Fox longed for the days of being a snotty little Lieutenant and not knowing anything about SCI evaluation forms or whatever fresh torture admin was cooking up next. They did this to torture him—personally—specifically Fox. They were doing this with malice in whatever shriveled stones InSec personnel passed off as hearts.

His comm pinged. Fox slapped a hand over it, then lifted it to check the sender ID.

1810.

CMC212-2224: I have been detained by Cpt Howl and Gen Kenobi. ETA 2030. I have been informed that this is quote an intervention unquote. I will keep you apprised.

Fox almost laughed—then grimaced as it turned into a yawn. He could only imagine what that conversation would look like.

CMC000-1010: Fine. Dont bring the jedi

CMC212-2224: Defamation and slander.

Fox snorted. Kenobi was rubbing off on his vod. Possibly in more ways than one—if barracks gossip was to be believed.

Well, if the illustrious Marshal Commander Cody was going to be late, then maybe Fox had time to rearrange his schedule a little. He could clock out later than planned—and if he clocked out later than planned that meant he had a new slot in his schedule perfectly sized for a little nap. The strange fever-nightmares had been getting worse lately. More lurid. As wartime litigation and political corruption weakened planetary agencies—and with the other hand, strengthened the GAR—taking on CorSec’s duties had given the Coruscant Guard longer shifts and less resources. One would think that as the GAR grew and shit got added to the Guard’s plate they would get authorized for more personnel and greater expenditures—but that kind of calculation was what PerSec was for. Supposedly. Not that they did much but embezzle shit. Mm, embezzlement. Maybe there was untapped potential to be had in that avenue of strategy. Fox pushed his datapad into the pile and blearily set an alarm to ring in fifteen minutes.

He'd just close his eyes. Just for a few minutes. Then he could finish the rest of this shit. Just a few minutes and…

In the absence of that awful din someone had been making, static quiet rushed to fill Fox’s ears. He sighed and rolled his head from side to side, working out the ache in the back of his neck. The silence was oppressive and heady now that the racket was gone—that high-pitched ringing and squalling had really been getting on Fox’s nerves. Thank the Force someone had finally silenced their stupid alarm.

Alarm.

Fuck.

Every muscle in Fox’s body seized in panic. He jolted upright and swayed dangerously close to falling out of his chair, vision still blurry from a hazy combination of waking and exhaustion. The office was dark. The screen of his datapad cast a dim blue glow into the room, picking out incongruous details: a scuff on the edge of his desk, the underside of an open drawer jutting out of the filing cabinet, the gaping mouth of a half-empty caf mug.

“Heck,” a vod muttered behind him.

There was only one idiot in the GAR who still swore like a cadet.

“Shit,” Fox slurred. He groaned and slumped back down against the desk, breath hissing out of him. “Shit. How long—what time?”

“Just past 1900.” Cody righted a stack of datapads that Fox had nearly knocked over and squared the edges of the stack with the right corner of the desk.

What a freak. No, wait. Past…

“Fucking—” Fox squeezed his face between his hands and rubbed the heel of his palm into an eye until it felt bruised and hot. He’d had one job tonight. He hadn’t even managed to clear his damn inbox yet. Stupid, stupid. He should have known better than to close his eyes like that on the job. And this was the one window of time he could see Cody without a war table between the two of them, or a room full of Admiralty and Jedi watching and assessing and—

“Think you had the right idea with this,” Cody said, scrubbing his knuckles over the top of Fox’s head and through his curls. Fox watched Cody in a stupor as he peered into the open filing cabinet and shuffled its contents around so that the drawer finally closed properly. The pile of spare bits of gear and discarded pieces of armor that had accumulated on Fox’s only other chair—he was going to get around to tidying the office one day, mark his words, and then the chucklefucks who kept leaving their shit around the room would really be sorry—got a similar treatment.

“Coming all this way just to see if I’d fallen down a maintenance shaft or some shit must have been a real bitch,” Fox muttered, rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth. There was dried drool on his chin. Fucking mortifying. “Sorry to disappoint.” Cody still had time to go back out, probably. If not to 79’s then maybe to whatever other hole his troopers were slumming it in while they were on leave.

“Figured something came up.” Cody’s voice was even as he peered into the caf mug on Fox’s desk. His nose wrinkled slightly. Fox, whose Cody translator was rusty but still functional, took this to mean that Cody was disgusted beyond words by the dark rings of caf stains and thick layer of dust that filled the bottom of the mug. “If you had wanted to blow me off you would’ve found a more offensive way to do it.”

“Yeah, well.” Fox stared at a scuff mark on the top of the desk while Cody organized a row of styluses by size and weight. Sorry for ruining our plans was out of the question. I missed you and I’m sorry I’m a fuck-up, nope, definitely not. For some reason, you should go have fun and hang out with your troopers or your Jedi or whoever, rain check, but not really, I know you’re busy, I’m busy, this fucking sucks was just as impossible to try and say. Please stay, I don’t care if you ruin my filing system with your freak-ass bullshit, just stay and keep talking to me… fuck no. Absolutely unacceptable. “Got a lot on my plate. You’re gonna have to wait a bit on the obscene singing telegram. You know how the red tape is.”

“Looks it.” Cody surveyed the half-lit office with a dissatisfied slant to his mouth. On anyone else it would have been sarcasm. On Cody, it felt like vindication. “Got a headache from 79’s. Your boys have a cosy set-up in the breakroom down the hall. Figured I could put my boots up and get some shuteye if nothing else.”

Fox blinked, still trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. The nap had been one that had left him dead to the world, and dredging himself back up out of it was excruciating. And it had left him exhausted, too. There really was no winning this shit. “I bet your ARCs snore like a rancor, too.”

“Bet my ARCs snore louder than yours,” Cody said promptly, which was a sucker’s bet. There was a reason Hound had gotten his name, and it wasn’t just because he was damn good ARF. “Lighting in here’s dismal.” He got his hands under Fox’s arms and heaved him out of his chair with a hup and no further explanation. The door to the hall got thrown wide open and Fox winced at the flood of harsh fluorescent light that stung his eyes and made him flinch back against Cody’s grip with a rattle of plastoid.

“Some of us have work to do,” Fox growled, but it was half-assed at best. Cody just tightened his grip on Fox and practically frog marched him down the corridor.

“Got a lot of work to do,” Cody agreed, which was a trap. Cody agreeing with anything was always a trap. “Got to get my vod’ika some real sleep.”

“I didn’t know Wolffe was on Triple-Zero.” Fox finally let himself slump into Cody, accepting his fate. Now that he was away from the looming piles of formwork and a to-do list longer than his vambrace—it was easier to convince himself that it could wait until tomorrow. At least some of it.

“Wolffe’s next,” Cody told him.

Ominous. Somewhat unsettling. Ah, whatever it was, Wolffe deserved it. Probably.

The break room was blessedly close to empty. A trooper was sat bolt upright at a far table, armor all on and hands in his lap. Fox was fairly sure he was sleeping; the helmet made it hard to tell, but figuring out how to sleep upright was vital skill number fucking one for Corries.

They traded stupid stories while Cody stirred instant coco into hot water. The caf machine in here was on the fritz again—that was probably for the best. The worn sofa in the back corner still had a heavy knit blanket thrown over the back—Fox couldn’t quite remember if this had been a gift or left here by General Gallia at some point, which was sometimes the same thing—that was warmer and softer than Fox remembered it ever being. He grudgingly peeled off most of his armor, in deference to Cody in his sharply pressed dress greys.

Did the vod know that clothing existed out of GAR supply stocks? Fox tried to imagine Cody in a pair of non-reg fuzzy socks or, hell, a big robe like something the Jedi wore. A fancy jacket. A little top hat—nope. He could practically feel his eyes crossing at the effort. It was most likely that Cody had gotten his undersuit surgically grafted to him at some point—so he was never out of uniform.

They curled together on the sofa and Fox threw the blanket haphazardly over the two of them. Fox’s muscle memory knew this much, even if his memories of the last time they’d been able to do this had grown hazy with time—memories of sneaking into Cody’s sleeping pod at night as cadets to sleep back-to-front so they had someone to reach for when the night terrors grew thick enough to choke on. Memories of bowing over each other in private when the fear rose—of not being good enough, of losing a batchmate to a cruel trainer or the exacting standards of the cloners or their own carelessness—those didn’t come from Fox’s head. They were carved into his bones, they were threaded in sinew and marrow.

“Thanks for coming,” Fox said. Finally—an acceptable substitute to the words that had been bouncing around his skull and tying up his tongue. “You were right, this is better.”

Cody tipped his chin in a short nod and pressed his shoulder into Fox’s a little harder. Then, because he was a petty little shit of the highest ranking: “Didn’t catch that second bit. Let’s hear it for the record.”

“You…are an ass,” Fox said loudly, right into his ear.

“Must be genetic,” Cody said. He oozed smug at Fox, even with his expression perfectly still. It was in the tilt of his head and the way he was still managing—somehow—to look down his nose at Fox.

“No shit,” Fox muttered. He barely managed to finish off the rest of his tepid coco before sleep was tipping him sideways once more, held secure by the implacable weight of Cody’s arm around him and the rhythm of his brother’s breathing soothing something in his chest—something Fox hadn’t even known was wounded and weary. Yeah, maybe things had turned out alright after all.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Natsume Yuujinchou

the smallest things by taizi

In which Takashi comes into the Fujiwaras' lives much earlier on.

Untamed

Nice work if you can get it by deliciousblizzardshark (+ podfic)

(In order to make Wei Wuxian feel welcome at the Cloud Recesses, and to make sure people give him the respect he deserves (and definitely not to get into his pants), Lan Wangji hires him to be his advisor.)

“Lan Zhan, did you hire me just so you could punish people for disrespecting me?”

“No,” Lan Wangji said. “It is a side benefit.”

“Why did you hire me?”

“Because you are knowledgeable and skilled,” Lan Wangji said, “and I trust you to assist me in my work.”

Because everything is easier with you around and because I feel like a part of me is missing without you and because you can say things I can’t and because I need you he did not say.

“And you secretly like being a bitch to people,” Wei Wuxian added, with a sly grin.

Clone Wars

The Past Remains by otherhawk

The war drags on leaving trauma and destruction in its wake. After a bereaved Master is accused of harming his padawan, Obi-Wan is sent to talk to her, dredging up memories of his own past.

Betting by Proxy by kotekenobii

Newly transferred to the 212th Attack Battalion, Proxy finds himself cornered and given a secret mission by none other than THE Marshal Commander Cody.

Hic Sunt Lodices by handdrawnisopach, SniperAnon (The_Big_Reveal)

"..... Why do you live in a cave?"

Obi-Wan smiles, careful not to show his sharp teeth. "It's peaceful up here. The long climb means most people don't bother me, and no one might try to take my things. Also, maintaining a cave gives me plenty of space for my research without the expense and fuss of maintaining an estate."

He pulls out one of the large cushions so he can sit comfortably across from Cody. "I research magic," he explains. "Can't do it myself, but I have a good line in alchemy, chemistry, and pharmacy. I enjoy studying the more theoretical aspects too. So time and peace to do my reading and writing are important to me."

Cody nods slowly, his eyes sharper, more alert as he scans over the lair and the eclectic collection of items. Then his golden brown eyes drift to Obi-Wan. "Are you a dragon?" He asks, voice rough from exhaustion.

"Ah." Obi-Wan grips the hem of his skirt. "A bit? A bit dragony. Yes. That's fair."

Learned Men by Trixree

It becomes the Question—the one every vod is talking about from the bridge of the Negotiator to her dark bowels where the laundry rooms churn and chug along: who takes care of the General?

--

In which Obi-Wan is touch starved and his men take notice.

DC

Trust fall by Ididloveyou_once

'Drake?’

Tim felt like he was choking. His throat was tight. He couldn’t swallow.

‘Damian?’ He managed.

Damian was… here. At Kent Farm. Dressed in the too-big Batman pajamas that Dick had bought him last Christmas as a joke. And- And-

Tim was wearing Kon’s t-shirt and his hair was messy and his lips were swollen and- He wasn’t ready for this- He wasn’t- He couldn’t-

How had he been so stupid?

Or: Tim comes out to Damian and prepares for the entire family to know by morning. It just so happens that Damian can keep a secret. Multiple, actually.

Wedding Album by Ididloveyou_once

'Let’s elope,’ Tim said, a little desperation leaking into his voice, ‘we could be on our way to Thailand by the end of the day.’

‘Actually,’ Conner’s amused eyes flickered toward Tim's family gathered at the dining table, ‘I think we’re going to Greece now.’

Or: Tim and Conner are getting married and everyone wants to be involved (snapshots of wedding planning very loosely connected by the creation of a wedding album).

[cc1010fox]

Cody: I'm telling you Thorn is not shiny! Words have meaning, Fox! Fox: You're wrong! Wait. There he is! Thorn! Come here! Thorn, taking off his helmet and smiling: Hey! It's nice to see you again, Marshal Commander Cody. Cody: ...Force, he's my favorite shiny too... Fox: Get your own forever shiny!

[kartaylirnaak]

Hi there !! So can you share about the care and feeding of your Marshal Commander for the WIP game ? 👀

Oh, this one! This is an older WIP that grew out of an idea and chat with a few others in a discord server. The opening lines of this fic pretty much explain what it is.

The following document is the manual on the care and feeding of Marshal Commander Cody of the Third Systems Army, 7th Sky Corps, 212th Attack Battalion, and Ghost Company. Collated within are various strategies, recommendations, and advice on how to look after our favourite droid punching, antenna hoarding, lightsaber retrieving, tactical genius of a vod.

The idea is that it's full of all sorts of information, context, and stories about Cody. I had hoped to post the first chapter for Cody Day (2/2/24) but IRL stuff got in the way and like everything I write, it ended up growing much, much larger than I had originally planned. Here's a few different sections from what I have written.

Part of the Introduction

Cody is aware of the existence of this manual but is barred from viewing it or knowing any of its contents. He will still try to get the information out of you. Do not let him.  

Part of the general section in the Batchmates chapter

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

Wolffe's section in the Batchmates chapter

After Rex (see section below), the batchmate that Cody is more likely to see is Wolffe. Unfortunately, these instances will probably be fleeting and unscheduled, as the 104th spends most of its days bouncing around the universe conducting search and rescue operations. So if they’ve turned up, then something has probably gone very wrong. This does have a tendency to happen as, much to Cody’s chagrin, his Jedi has a particularly bad habit of hurling himself into dangerous situations because it’s “the will of the Force, my dear”. The 212th also works with the 501st quite often and something always goes off the rails when Skywalker is involved. When it all goes spectacularly badly wrong, expect to see the 104th turn up and laugh. (You mean save the day – Wolffe). This doesn’t give Wolffe many opportunities for down time with vode from other battalions as he’s either pulling people out of the fire, coordinating the aftermath, or debriefing on where it all went wrong before flying off to save the next bunch of sorry bastards. Your best chance of finding time for Cody and Wolffe to catch up is by suggesting to their Jedi that they should take the opportunity to meditate together. Both of them are fully aware that this is absolute bullshit and will willingly indulge it as they’re both far too fond of their respective commanders. Sadly, the situation won’t always allow for this. For the times when everything is even more chaotic than usual, the best you’re going to manage is for Cody and Wolffe to be working together and perhaps get a few words together before Wolffe disappears again. While not optimal, it at least gives both of them the chance to visually confirm the other is still alive and hasn’t added to their facial scar collection. They’re currently both at 1-1 and are not allowed to add to it. Wolffe also brings out a particular kind of feral in Cody. Don’t be surprised to see scratches, bruises or bite marks that have been hastily smeared with bacta after they’ve spent time together. This is either from them beating the crap out of each other for fun or railing each other into the floor. Or both. Just continue on like you haven’t seen a giant hickey on your CO’s neck and politely suggest to Cody that he might want to pull up the collar of his blacks. You should hopefully avoid being eviscerated by his glare. Hopefully.     

I'm rather fond of this WIP, keep forgetting about it, and intimidated by it. This is another one that I'm not sure will ever see the light of day, even though I've written most of the Introduction, Batchmates chapter and an entire section on what to do when Cody gets in The Fighty Mood™

[arcsimper5]

Hi there, may I please request a scenario where Cody gets extremely distracted by an attractive, curvy/thick woman with large breasts, dressed in a beautiful, yellow-gold dress with a DEEP plunging neckline and it's not just her body that's distracting him; it was everything from her lips, her smile, to her eyes, her skin and her hair. His Vods want just want to drink the night away, but he ditches them in favor of getting to know her. They end up chatting/flirting; his attraction for her only grows the more he makes her smile and flirt back. Up to you whether you wanna make it get steamy or not; thank you either way.🌼

Hello my lovely anon!

Thank you for the request, I thought this through quite a bit, and have decided this will be a two-parter :P

Please enjoy part one below. Part two will be coming soon, and there will be spice included ;)

Title: Knowing - Part 1 Pairing: Cody x F!OC (not named, AFAB, very vague description) Warnings: Language, people being a-holes to Clones, minor physical violence.

Cody wasn’t sure he had a type until that night.

Just another shore leave that had rolled around after what felt like an eternity. With Obi-Wan attending the Jedi Council and all the flimsiwork that had been thrown his way done, it was a truly rare occasion when he could meet up with his brothers, his batchmates and friends, and let loose. Just a little.

He was still a Marshall Commander after all, something that was abundantly clear as he entered 79’s still in his armour, sans helmet (though it remained clipped to his belt). The moment he was noticed, the noise dimmed somewhat, though only for a few minutes. 

By the time he’d made it to the bar and ordered a drink, the frivolities were back in full swing, the energy surging through everyone, clones and natborns alike, setting the scene for a night of excess.

And Cody couldn’t deny, he could do with a chance to let loose.

The last few campaigns had been too close for comfort. Too many brothers lost to the fighting, too many odds stacked against them. Every time they went on deployment, it hit him harder; one day, he wasn’t going to return.

There would be no more 79’s, no more shore leave, no more taking risks and breaking rules for the chance of a sliver of happiness.

Mumbling his order to the service droid behind the bar, he was so lost in his maelstrom of thoughts when he finally received his drink that his senses failed him, awareness lost to the self imposed despair running rampant in his mind, and he completely failed to notice the civvy stood behind him until it was too late.

He turned sharply, colliding with the figure, who let out a surprised yelp, the shock sending him reeling backwards for a moment before he found his balance once more.

“I am so sorry,” he began, shaking his head to bring himself back into the moment. The crowd around him and his victim had parted, giggles and gasps barely audible over the music. Taking a deep breath, Cody looked up, meeting the eyes of the stranger he’d just bumped into, ready to apologise once more.

And then his brain stopped working.

Stood in front of him, the smooth, tanned skin of her chest dripping with the cheap beer he’d ordered, was the most beautiful woman Cody had ever laid eyes on.

She was tall, a few inches on him even, though he suspected the glittery heels she was sporting aided that, draped in a figure hugging gold and white dress that accentuated her curves, her body full and thick in a way that made his mouth water.

The dress was sleeveless, the neckline of the delicate material plunging sharply over her cleavage, exposing the swells of her breasts just enough so as not to allow for any accidental slips.

It was her chest that Cody found himself staring at suddenly, watching rivulets of the golden liquid he’d just picked up seeping downwards, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

“I…” he began, lifting his gaze up to meet a pair of intense, wide eyes, desperately trying to find the words to apologise to this beautiful creature. But any sentiment he might have expressed was cut off suddenly by a shove, the woman pushed to one side by another, shorter and thinner person, another human, though this one had a snarl on her face and narrowed eyes.

“Stupid kriffing clone,” she spat, glaring at Cody as he tried to gather himself. He stumbled a little, his back colliding with the bar, “why don’t you watch where you’re going, huh?”

“Sariah, it was an accident!”

The woman he’d spilt his drink on grabbed the other’s arm, attempting to pull her away. But this Sariah was having none of it.

“Probably did it on purpose,” she snarled, jabbing a finger against Cody’s chestpiece, “they’re all like that. Soak you, follow you to the bathroom and get you alone. Then…”

“Sariah!”

The woman seemed displeased with her friend’s behaviour, grabbing her harder and pulling her away from Cody, her own gaze narrowed.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Sariah huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, “you can’t trust these meat droids. They only want one thing, other than killing, that is.”

“That’s enough!”

The woman’s shout echoed over the music, an authoritative tone to it that had Cody feeling very warm all of a sudden. The swell of noise in the club dipped once more, as it had done when he arrived, attention turning to the woman.

“I’ve just about had it with all the shit you come out with!” the woman growled at Sariah, who stared at her in disbelief, “I told you before we left, any of this crap from you and we were done. You don’t know what it’s like out there. This was supposed to change your views, to show you how amazing these guys are.”

“I’m not fucking a meat droid,” Sariah sneered, the expression completely wiped from her face as the woman raised one perfectly manicured hand and slapped her across the face, sending her stumbling backwards.

“Don’t fucking call them that!”

SIlence descended over the club as everyone waited for Sariah to react, her own hand coming up to clutch at her face where she’d been hit. She looked equal amounts furious and scared as the woman Cody had bumped into towered over her, her shoulders squared, making her look even bigger than she had before.

“You… Fuck you!” Sariah finally whimpered, tears gathering in her eyes, “Enjoy getting assaulted by these… things. And lose my comm. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” the woman spat, turning her back on Sariah as she moved easily through the crowd, clones and natborns alike parting to make a clear line to the door.

Another moment of silence followed, the doors to 79’s slamming shut seconds before the crowd turned back to the woman, watching and waiting.

Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile to her face, looking around awkwardly.

“Well?” she asked to no-one inparticular, her voice echoing around in the tense silence, “Is this a club or a morgue?”

A cacophony of cheers erupted, the music swinging back into life, bodies moving and bustling and gyrating again in moments. Breathing a sigh of relief, she finally turned back to Cody, meeting his gaze and giving him a weak smile.

“Uh, sorry…” “Sorry…”

They both spoke at the same time, eyes widening for a moment before they both let out a laugh, shaking their heads at each other.

“I’m Cody,” he offered softly, offering her a hand, “and I am sorry for spilling my drink on you.”

“No harm done,” the woman smiled warmly, “nothing that I can’t dry off.” She motioned to the droid behind the bar, a roll of disposable wipes presented to her within moments.

Diligently cleaning her chest, she quickly disposed of the roll and the soiled pieces on the bar, the droid removing them and bringing her a cocktail over, nodding when she murmured something else to it.

“I’m, uh, sorry about your friend, too,” he winced, noting how she didn’t even flinch, simply shrugging.

“Not a loss,” she admitted, “we only met a few weeks ago. She’s my friend’s sister, thought I’d show her around Coruscant, seeing as she’s new here. Couldn’t give a kriff about anyone with views like that.”

Cody’s face warmed as he recalled her anger at them being referred to as ‘meat-droids’. It wasn’t uncommon, but having someone, let alone a natborn defend them? That definitely was.

“I, uh, didn’t catch your name,” Cody smiled awkwardly as she turned back, her cocktail and another beer in hand. His eyes widened a little more as she pressed the beer into his hand, catching him off guard.

“I owed you one,” she winked, “and I didn’t give it.”

“Oh,” he murmured numbly, blinking a few times. Suddenly he didn’t feel like a Marshall Commander. He felt like a shiny, fresh and new, unsure how to navigate this situation, “I… uh…”

“Call me ‘My Lady’,” she purred, leaning forward to practically whisper in his ear, sending a shudder through him, “if you like. We’ll see if you get to earn my name, pretty boy.”

“P-Pretty… What?” he stammered, eliciting a giggle from her plump lips.

Maker, it had gotten hot all of a sudden, his armour feeling too tight all over, particularly underneath his codpiece.

“Want to grab a table?”

It was barely a suggestion as she looped her arm through his, guiding him towards one of the booths in the back. He offered no resistance, trying to get to grips with the situation.

‘Come on, Cody, you’re better than this! She’s gorgeous, she’s kriffing beautiful! Stop making a fool of yourself.’

“I… I’m a Marshall Commander,” he blurted out as they reached the booth, slipping inside the secluded area. It became all the more intimate as she pulled the curtain across, giving them more privacy from the surging movement of the dancefloor.

“That so?” she hummed in amusement, watching as Cody flushed bright red, oblivious to the way he cursed himself internally.

“Uh, yeah. 212th.”

“Oh, General Kenobi,” she nodded sagely, still grinning a little, “good man. Little uptight for my liking, but a fantastic strategist.”

“You… know him?” Cody asked a little too loudly, taken aback. The woman simply nodded, sipping at her cocktail before placing it back onto the table between them.

“I know all of the Jedi. Being a GAR liaison has its advantages.”

Oh kriff. Kriff, kriff, kriff.

A GAR liaison officer, one of the most senior natborn ranks there was. This woman, this stunning, beautiful woman, had to be a Commander at least, his equal, or maybe even higher ranking.

“I… uh…”

“Hey…”

Her voice softened as she leant over the table, reaching to take his hand in hers. He watched, dumbfounded as she stroked her delicate fingers over the back of his gloved hand, cursing the layers that separated him from feeling her skin on his.

“I know what you’re thinking. This isn’t a trick or a trap. Some people in the GAR might not see you as human, but I do. I know the fraternisation rules, and I don’t care. We all need to let loose sometimes.”

Cody, once again, felt far out of his depth, unsure what to say in response, simply staring at her hand as it drew lazy patterns into his glove, this throat bobbing as he swallowed hard again, processing her words.

“If you want me to leave you be, to disappear and forget this ever happened,” she offered slowly, “I can and will. I don’t want you to feel like you have to spend any time with me. But I have to say, Cody…” He shivered at the way she practically purred his name, “I’ve heard quite a bit about you, and would be interested in getting to know you… maybe seeing where it goes from there…”

Looking up at her in amazement, Cody could only nod, slowly turning his hand over and lacing his fingers with hers. He was still nervous, hells, his heart was practically beating out of his chest, but there was something in her gaze that kept him rooted to the spot, a softness to her gaze as she looked him over.

As her lips turned up into a brilliant smile, his heart fluttered.

This was bad… Or was it?

Please comment and reblog! It helps my writing no end and is very appreciated!

[hastalavistabyebye]

Holos #3

Ao3 version

The four Marshals of the GAR were having a holo meeting with some of the High Generals, like they had regularly to coordinate the war efforts. Fox had sent his reports to one of the Jedi in advance, he very rarely could attend himself. General Mundi was stuck at the medbay, which meant Bacara was alone, this time. Neyo was only accompanied by General Allie. Ponds and Windu were currently leading a recon with their Lightning.

It was the perfect time to get back at his ori’vod for that last holocall they had with their training batch. It could also serve as a “thank you for not dying or something”. One blast, two clankers and all that. 

Neyo briefly looked down at his comm and sent the proper message, before concentrating back on what Bly was saying (and waiting for Bacara’s reaction). Ideas to fix their problems for coordinating clean-up after a big battle, very interesting. Bacara was giving him the slight frown of judgment. Not important, he still checked his comm. Koon was giving some good insight. 

There it is ! 

Bacara had frozen, just for a second, at the sight of the holovid Neyo sent him. When it finally reached his brain, he started coughing, trying as best he could to hide his reaction. And the slight blush shading his cheeks that was evident even through the holo’s blues. He promptly excused himself under the confused look of the five other people on the call and cut the sound of his comm while getting out of frame. Cody and Bly were exchanging very perplexed looks, while the three Jedi present were showing evident signs of worry. This was completely out of character for the marine. 

Neyo was gloating under his perfect sabacc face. It was an even better reaction than everything he had hoped for. 

Next to him, General Allie discreetly gave him a “what did you do ?” look, devoid of any judgment as always, just by simple curiosity. To which Neyo gave his best expression of “Nothing, sir”. It was a very good one, even for the high Vode standard. One of the best really. That only amused her, but she let the topic drop and started the conversation again. She knew better than to mingle into siblings’ maihem. 

Neyo couldn’t have used that one video better. He was so glad he recorded Bacara’s reaction.

-

[A holocam recording from a trooper’s helmet, shaky from the vod's movements. After a few seconds it stabilized, as if they had stopped running, hidden behind covers, and focused on a trooper with Commander Ponds’ markings. He’s standing on a droid tank, firing down on the clankers around him with one hand while throwing a grenade inside the tank with the other. Without waiting a second, he’s jumping away from the tank, still firing on the B1s to clear his path. He swiftly lands in a roll before getting back on his feet and starts running back into the conflict. An explosion lights up the horizon behind him. 

Out of frame, someone, Commander Neyo, is chuckling. He can be heard shouting “Show off !” before the recording cuts off.]

Inspired by the tags on some of my other ficlets for those two, from @whiskygoldwings (who reminded me that yes, Bacara would very much like Ponds' competency) and @clonemando (who gave me the idea for an inappropriately timed video message. Even if it was about Bacara sending Ponds a hilarious gif of a frog flopping down a hill in the middle of a meeting... Hope you don't mind the creative liberty I took xD)

Because I do in fact absolutely love all of you guys comments on my ficlets and will take inspiration from them (it's a threat). (So yes please don't hesitate to send ideas my way.)

[jollyhaunt]

codywan order 66 except the GAR identifies the chips early so they must work discreetly and slowly to deactivate the inhibitors, pushing cody into telling obi-wan to "stop him by any means necessary", which translates to "if i'm not myself, i want it to be you to put me down"

the tension amongst the troopers and jedi as they are unsure of when the chips will be activated. they're still trying to figure out who will be the one to activate them, and because of all this uncertainty, every move is to be taken with caution.

any moment the troopers can turn. distance is attempted among the troops and jedi, the men thinking it's too much of a risk bc they don't know what they will be capable of when if the chips are activated. the jedi have none of that, they will figure this out together.

cody is still reluctant to be anywhere near the jedi, most especially obi-wan. he knows of his rank, why he is the marshal commander of the 3rd system army. he knows how much power it takes to take down a droid army; how much power to put behind a punch to cause permanent damage; how much a cup of blood can sting when it is spilling between his fingers bc he was just a second too late from saving a vod.

but he also knows obi-wan—that his general is faithful, kind enough for a war, that though his saber can cut through anything, it is his tongue that you should brace for the strike.

and so when they're alone one night after a sorting through reports and humming over cups of tea and caf, cody sets down his pad and displays his everlasting trust in his jedi.

and the cody's chip does get activated one day at the worst time possible when it's just him and obi-wan alone and it's not even a slow thing. it's almost swift, this change, the crying in the force that something is terribly wrong, but obi-wan still hears—feels cody resist and his cry for obi-wan to do his part. he barely had time to deflect cody's blaster before cc-2224 is on him, his trusted knife in hand, blaster in the other bc cc-2224 knows cody's jedi—he knows what he can do and how to chip at his weaknesses and play with them to make sure success is clean and precise.

they fight.

it's the first time obi-wan breaks a promise.

[vodika-vibes]

Blue training his command’ika in hand to hand combat 🥺

Blue looked at tiny little Ashanii and was like, "I have a daughter now, this is fine."

"Captain," Commander Cody looks over at his slightly younger brother, and then at the child hanging from his back and then back at his brother, "You appear to have a growth." "How dare you. This is my child. I birthed her with my own body." Blue replies in total deadpan. Ashanii giggle as she lays her head on Blue's shoulder. "Vod. Why are you carrying around a Jedi Commander." "Because she doesn't want to walk, obviously." "Obviously." Ashanii echoes with a big yawn. "Besides, she's been working hard and is tired." Cody sighs, "Put her down, Blue." "Respectfully, sir, I don't take orders from you." Blue says cheerfully. "Last time I checked, I'm still Marshal Commander." "Last I checked, my command'ika still outranks you." "Why are you like this?" Cody asks with a sigh. "I was trained with Delta Squad, Commander. They, apparently, rubbed off on me."

[inkstainedhandswithrings]

Hi Phie! Congratulations on 200 followers, you deserve all the love! 🥰 I’d like to request prompts 12 and 39 (if I can do two; if not, you can pick which one! No worries!) for Commander Cody (shocker lol) x fem!reader :)

Thank you so much, and congrats again!!

MOLLY!!! This took me so long, I'm so sorry!! (I have another request to complete that I haven't even started yet, but ANYWAY)

Um,,,, this is not a drabble lol. it's a lot longer. It's also more angsty than I intended but I had fun with it tbh 😅

SO!!

Love & War. Cody x f!reader

prompts: 12. "By the gods, you love her, don't you?" (altered to *Maker,...) & 39. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen"

warnings: alcohol, slight angst, not beta'd

words: ~2k

summery: Cody gets a talking to from his brothers and has a realisation.

I'm gonna tag @softsunburstlove since I know Nova's currently keenly interested in anything Cody.

masterlist

Taking another sip from his drink, Cody sighed as he looked across the bar. His brothers were dancing, talking, drinking. Having a good time. Meanwhile, he stuck to his far corner, drinking in silence. It had been... a long week. With the relentless death of war and the mounts of paperwork and planning and strategy meetings...

But that wasn't the thing stealing Cody's sleep. His mind had been on you. It was always on you. Ever since the day the two of you met.

But he was the Marshall Commander of the Grand Army of the Republic and they were in the middle of a war. He couldn't allow himself any distractions. Thinking of the work he accomplished this week though, and the quality of it, he had to consider the fact that that ship might've sailed.

So he sighed, and he took another sip, and suddenly Wolffe, Gree, Fox and Rex were taking a seat across from him. So much for a quiet evening.

"Been looking for you, brother," Gree started, taking a sip from his own drink. "You been hiding from us?"

"Not at all," Cody replied lamely. One look at Rex told him that he'd seen right through him. Truthfully, he didn't expect to be able to lie to Rex. The man himself couldn't lie his way out of a paperbag, but he was quite discerning when it came to his brothers. Though seeing as he ran the 501st, he likely had to be.

"Really? So you're just hanging out in the far corner of the bar, all by yourself, because you wanted us to find you?" Rex fired back.

"Rex," Cody said slowly, in a tone his brother knew all to well.

Rex relented right away, knowing better than to push him. He knew Cody was a smart man. But he also knew he tended to overthink things. That did mean he was always prepared for any possible outcome. It just... took him a while to get there. And Rex certainly understood the importance of thinking this through well enough.

Wolffe, however, was much more blunt than Rex. And much more curious. And he didn't necessarily care about pushing a bit too hard.

"Codes," he began, and was immediately interrupted.

"Don't call me Codes," Cody said, far too quickly. His statement was met with complete disregard.

"If you have a problem, I'd suggest you talk to your vode. Pushing us away and hiding in some corner isn't gonna get you anywhere, vod."

Cody tapped the side of his cup. Wolffe made an excellent point. Talking to his brothers was usually the way he solved the toughest problems. And when they couldn't be solved? His brothers would buy the rounds until they were. He could always count on them.

But thinking of you now? Of your deep eyes, and your beautiful smile and your loving hands touching his body, caressing away the horrors of the war?

Sharing that felt like giving a piece of it up. Telling anyone at all would feel like it wasn't his, and his alone anymore.

Cody realised it was childish, seeing as Rex had already put two and two together. Not exactly a difficult equation either, seeing as he disappeared for conspicuous amounts of time every few days. And that one time you were at 79's with your friends and you caught his eye across the room and he felt like he couldn't breathe anymore. Rex had been right beside him to witness it all. He was grateful that his brother clearly hadn't spoken a word about it, but it did also mean that now that he was having doubts the choice of telling them was his alone too.

Cody sighed deeply, still studying the liquid inside the glass. "It's complicated..."

"Ah," Fox began, nodding knowingly, "it's a girl."

Cody scoffed, looking off to the side. His brothers knew him a tad bit too well.

Wolffe chuckled deeply, leaning over to smack Cody's arm. "And what girl wields enough power to have the Marshall Commander this out of sorts?"

He looked up from his glass briefly to address his brother. "We...," he cleared his throat. "We met shortly after the second Battle of Geonosis."

Wolffe scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Piece of advice, maybe don't try to make a living as a story-teller after the war."

After the war. He'd heard that phrase a lot lately. From you of course. How you'd buy them a house on some back water planet after the war. How you two would start a family after the war. How after the war all would be well. How he could rest after the war.

"Geonosis? That's almost a year ago now, isn't it?" Rex asked, realising that he didn't know as much of the full picture as he once thought.

"Yeah," Cody confirmed. He'd been counting the days since he met you. Wanting to savour every last one of them, knowing that every tally mark on the side of his bunk could be the last.

"So you've been with this girl for...?" Rex trailed off.

"Does it matter?" Cody shot back. Then he threw back the last of his drink and looked out into the crowd again. Gree had brought a bottle of whiskey with him. He quickly filled Cody's cup again, receiving a grateful nod, however, unaccompanied with his usually warm smile.

The others exchanged worried looks, silently communicating what they were all thinking; Cody wasn't himself right now. Something must've happened.

"So a girl," Fox began, always the political one, "A girl you've been with for a while. Isn't that a good thing?"

"Yeah, no," he cleard his throat again. "Yeah, it's great," he said, unconvincingly.

"Okay, how'd you screw it up?" Wolffe asked.

"I didn't!" Cody shot back. Too quickly to keep up his detachment. He deflated then, admitting to the fact that he'd lost. "I didn't screw anything up. Neither did she. Everything's been great for a long time."

"Then what's the problem?" Gree asked.

"It's... she takes it as a promise. Something I can keep. Like my surviving the war this long means that we have a future where I don't need to sneak around, lie to all my superiors and brothers and...," he trailed off, emotion swelling in his chest. Damn, how much had he had today? "I know I can't give her what she wants. I can barely keep it up now."

"If it's more trouble than its worth why not just break it off?" Wolffe offered, always the pragmatic one.

Rex shot him an angry look, but Cody understood their brother. He and Wolffe had always been a bit more... detached than the others. Rex didn't date a lot but when he met someone he liked he was head over heels before the first date was over. He couldn't help it, he just felt that deeply.

Cody certainly felt deeply for you but... something permanent? He'd never had that. War would never provide him with consistency. He had accepted that but he wasn't sure you understood that. How could you? You were a civilian. The sweetest, loveliest, most beautiful civilian he has ever met. But this part of him, you would never fully grasp. He accepted that too. At least he thought he did. But lately, more and more, it was like there was a war going on inside of him. His emotions going haywire all the time and he didn't even know why. And more and more, the center of his thoughts, his feelings, his plans... was you. But that wasn't realistic. That wasn't how this was going to end. Right?

When Cody still didn't speak, didn't even look at them Wolffe's eyes widened and he spoke the words Rex was silently begging him to swallow. "Maker, you love her, don't you?"

He might've choked on his drink. "I... what do you... I'm not... I can't," he sputtered in-between coughing.

When he managed to crack his eyes open again, the entire table was looking at him with identical grins. Even Rex, the little shit.

But damn, if it wasn't the truth. The truth he had been too stubborn to admit. The truth that, at it's core, might not have been as scary as it sounded in his mind. Still scary but... there were worse things, right? Right.

The one thing Cody did know for sure is that the rest of this conversation wasn't going to be conducted with his brothers. He quickly jumped up and mumbled "Excuse me."

****

It was late when he knocked on your door. Usually he comm.s first. Just as a curtesy. He's like that. A little uptight, but always with a warm and kind heart behind it.

So you're quite surprised when he shows up out of nowhere smelling of whiskey and smoke and 79's. But you've had worse surprises.

You smile, a bit of concern glimmering in your eyes.

"Cody? Hey, sweetie, is everything okay?"

You remember the last time he showed up like this. It was after a tough mission. The Citadel, you vaguely remember.

Next thing you know he's grabbing your hips and pressing his lips against yours. You're taken aback now, this is totally new. He'd never been that assertive. Always kind, gentle, caring, loving. This wasn't him. There was a new... hunger in him.

You pull away quickly, not because you don't want him to kiss you but because you're worried. When you search his eyes, you see tears in them.

"Hey, hey," you coo gently, cupping his face. "What happened? Who did we lose?"

"No one," he chokes out, shaking his head. He then pulls you close again, burying his face in your hair.

You're still standing in the door, for all your neighbours to see. You couldn't care less.

"Tell me what's going on, love," you whisper into his ear. "What happened?"

He takes a shaky breath to steady himself and walks the two of you inside more, shutting the door behind him.

"I never told you," he says, his voice still impossibly strained.

You grow nervous now. Was he keeping secrets from you? Was there...?

"What do you mean? Is there-?"

He cuts you off. "There's no one else. I just... I never told you... I love you."

A few moments of silence pass and suddenly you're taking a deep breath and a teary smile appears on your face. "That's okay. I always knew. You didn't have to tell me. I could see it. It's okay."

He frowns, his grip on you tightening as he shakes his head, tears threatening to spill. "No, it's not! It's not. I... I should have..."

You cut him off this time. "I have no idea what it's like to be a soldier. But I know that, saying it to you? Knowing that you might not come back next time? It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I didn't mind that you couldn't do it till now. I knew. I always knew."

He heaves a deep sigh, as if a weight fell off his shoulders and leans his forehead on yours, eyes fluttering close. "You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I love you so much. I'm sorry I wasn't stronger. I'm sorry I wasn't even trying to search my feelings. I'm sorry I wasn't ready to commit."

You smile a little the softest of laughs escaping you, making him feel like his heart was about to burst. "What you couldn't see in yourself, I always knew was there. I never doubted you. You might not have said it, may not have known it was there. But I knew. That was enough for me."

He shakes his head, a few tears falling from his eyes as his nose brushes against yours. "Cyare. How are you so perfect? So patient with me?"

You press a chaste kiss to his lips. "Because I love you."

He spent the night then, whispering silent promises to you. About love, and the future, of all the two of you would do after the war. But the phrase he said most -- over and over again in fact -- was the one he never thought he'd say to anyone.

[anyadarlingsdomain]

A little excerpt during the Rebels Era. The clones were talking regarding their past and Rex brought up General Norien.

“You knew Master Noríen?” He stated, seemingly surprised to hear the name come from Rex’s mouth.

Rex let out a chuckle. “Yeah..I knew her. So did most clones in fact.” He stated, sharing a grin with his brothers. “Jedi Master Sephora Norien. Member of the Jedi Council, General of 614th Battalion- Moonbeams they liked to call themselves.

And most known amongst my brothers..The Clone General.”

Ezra’s eyes were saucers. “How did you know her? I mean I know she’s a General and all but how did you meet?”

Rex let out another chuckle, having a hand come behind his neck. “Well that was a while ago. I first met the General when I was stationed as an ARC Trooper. We just finished with one of our rountinal training exercises and she came in.

It wasn’t exactly hard to spot her, she was literally the only other female in the room.” He said with a chuckle, “no less you don’t miss Norien’s sights very easily. She’s easily noticeable. Our commanding Officer introduced her to us. We knew about General Ti- her master. And some about this Apprentice..but it wasn’t on the forefronts of our minds at the time. But once she personally introduced herself, you knew automatically that she was different and it was something you automatically took a liking too. Needless to say as Ti’s Apprentice she was with her often in Kamino. She was the second Representative for Kamino there.

Sephora’s involvement with the clones was constant. She stayed for months off and on with her Master for the implement of our program..along with other duties that she held too. Once the Clone Wars began..she was assigned to an Battalion, 614th as I’ve stated. Her leading officer was a Marshall Commander just like Cody. He was a good fellow..very stoic Commander you couldn’t get much past him. He was very observant.” He chuckled. “Anyway, for the course of 3 yrs I fought alongside the Clone General off and on. 501 and 614 were combined on missions many times. We were a force to be reckoned with. Like the other clones we’ve all come to learn and respect her over the years..she certainly earned her title..she was a great leader and comrade. I am proud and honored to serve alongside her during the Clone Wars. She is by far one of the greatest Generals of Jedi. She was a good friend..” he stated looking a little forlorn after that comment.

They were silent a moment.

“Do you know what happened to her?” Ezra suddenly asked him.

Rex was looking to the floor. “Heh..I..I’m not entirely sure..I haven’t heard anything from her in years..I just assumed that,” he seemed to be struggling, his hands kept unclenching each other. His vod seemed to be starting to worry for him and started to reach out.

He finally looked to him, shaking his head. “I can’t believe..” his eyes started to grow watery, “that she could be still alive..after all this time..and what titles she held especially with the clones” his eyebrows furrowed over, he shook his head. “There would have been no way..she couldn’t survive that..they would have torn her apart.” He finally broke down and wiped the tears roughly from his face, walking off- upset.

Ezra looked solemn. “I’m sorry..I didn’t mean to hurt him.” He admitted looking to the floor in shame.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself kid.” Wolffe said. “The General always meant a lot to Rex..she meant a lot to all of us,” he said with a frown. “But especially Rex..she was extra special..”

Ezra looked puzzled regarding something.

“What do you mean?” He asked him curiously obviously hinting more to what he was meaning.

Kanan looked up, seeming to know.

Wolffe shrugged. “He loved her, that’s why.” He stated.

Ezra’s eyes went saucers. “He was in love with the General??!!” He asked in astonishment.

“Yeah,” Wolffe stated shrugging again- as if it was no big deal, “in fact many people did..or at least had crushes on her. Namely my brothers,” he said with a chuckle, “trust me if you saw her you would understand why. But of course..Rex’s goes way deeper than that.”

“I’ve seen her..it’s just that..I thought it was against the Code-“ he looked to Kanan offended- “you told me!!”

“And it is.” Kanan calmly stated. “It always has been. The clones were on a different system but it’s the similar idea. It’s a very professional system. Jedi to clone officer. No open attachments or anything related..it would bring the flow out of balance no less the ways of war probably wouldn’t operate the same after.”

“It probably wouldn’t.” Wolffe agreed.

“But in some ways..the Jedi had it harder. At least in the rules of attachments.” Kanan stated.

“I just don’t understand..it doesn’t seem fair. Why is the Code so rigid?”

Kanan sighed. “Not all things can be explained Ezra..it’s just how things are.”