Oh! I forgot, I wanted to ask, since you mentioned Alpha-17 in this, what does he think about this? He didn’t think much of the jedi, but he grew to respect and care for Obi-wan. Has he been told what the senate has been doing to the jedi? Did he have a heavy flashback to events like Fox did? Times when in hindsight it’s clear what had been done to Obi-wan and or Anakin, but he didn’t have the context to realize what had happened?
Raising his head slowly from his pad, Rex stared at Dogma, feeling an icy cold calmness settle in over his nerves. The meeting room was quiet, everyone stilling at Dogma’s musing and even more when Rex attention was caught.
Dogma looked like he regretted saying anything, clenching the pad in his own hands where he had been looking over his portion of the feeds Fox had sent over.
“…Would you repeat that again trooper?” Rex stated calmly, feeling calm but from the way Dogma paled, some of the murderous intent hidden under it all must be leaking out.
Shifting in his seat, glancing around at the mix of 212th and 501st that were involved in figuring out who had General Kenobi last night, Dogma opened his mouth, closed it then squared his shoulder. “I-It was just ideal musing really sir but, well, a lot of the commanders… they look like the Generals…” He repeated, stammering a bit as he started nervously rubbing at the edge of his tattoo near the lip.
Rex continued staring at him, his gaze burning.
Licking his lips, Dogma shifted. “I mean, there’s Commander Grey’s General and Commander, they look alike,” Depa Billaba and Caleb Dume. “That little Initiate that looks like General Ti in the temple,” Rex knew who he was talking about, little thing with a blue saber. “And Commander Iron’s little commander looks like…” Dogma trailed off, looking even more nervous now.
Cal Kestie’s, commander of the 13th battalion.
Little commander Kestie with red hair, pale skin and freckles.
Rex felt the pad crack in his hands, the screen warping along the break as heavy realization sunk in and he faintly realized Longshot was suddenly slamming his fist into the wall.
Cal Kestie looked like Obi-Wan Kenobi.
“That’s… just the ones at the top of my head,” Dogma continued, warily glancing at Longshot where the trooper was now pressing his head to the wall. “I bet if we looked at records, we’d find out other older Generals look like many of those that are now and if we really looked at the little ones in the temple…” He trailed off and then shrugged awkwardly.
He didn’t really need to say more.
Not when everyone knew what he was implying and was likely right about.
This was not what Rex had been expecting when Cody left with the General, eyes asking them to find out who the hell hurt Obi-Wan. He had been expecting to be gnashing his teeth and glaring at cams as he tried to follow the Jedi through the halls and figure out which karking monster had him.
Now he was stuck thinking about all the little Jedi younglings who looked like older Generals, now he was stuck thinking about the commanders he had seen that looked like their masters or grandmasters.
Now he was stuck thinking about how the rest of the galaxy had a hard on for said younglings and how much that must hurt the older ones. And how the older Jedi were victims of the damn Senate, the governing body of the inner core, because face it, outer core didn’t get effected by core politics.
He’d seen enough to know that.
Putting down his damaged pad, Rex buried his face in his hands and let out a deep breath.
Then he forced himself to take five breaths in through his nose and out of his mouth, just like Ordo had taught him.
It made him wonder about the Alpha and the Null clones.
He had heard from the Kamino guards that when Alpah-17 learned what was going on with the Jedi, he had apparently shot Senator Burtoni point blank.
He wasn’t… quite sure what that was about.
It was a terrible risk to shoot a longneck on Kamino, the chances of hiding it from the rest of them were low, especially such a high prolific member as Senator Burtoni had become. So that left the question of why Alpah had shot her.
He knew it couldn’t be pure rage but as far as Rex knew, the longnecks didn’t have sexuality in the same way as most species in the galaxy and relied more on cloning for their generations, the impact of cloning and ‘bettering’ their genetics for survival doing something to their libido or that’s what Kix had said.
So it wasn’t related to the Jedi being unable to say n-Rex paused before lifting his head, thinking furiously.
No didn’t have to mean only sexual consent, no could mean… other things.
No to examinations, no to invasive study, no to…
Force, the fox hole just kept getting deeper and deeper and Rex decided that he would have to contact Alpha, because speculating like this was only hurting his head.
The last place he wanted to be in this moment was in the karking Rotunda and the only reason he had left Obi-Wan’s side at all was because Rex had promised to sit with him. So here Anakin was, marching through the Rotunda, his cloak billowing up around him dramatically.
If Qui-Gon could see him at that moment, he would have rolled his eyes and fondly called him a drama prince.
Or maybe he would have been stomping along with Anakin.
The other had been calling daily until the comm signal had become too unstable, hearing about what health Obi-Wan was in.
All because he had been directly summoned by the War Commission to speak about the last campaign he had been out on with Obi-Wan. Something about someone having caught Obi-Wan on holocam, running around with the bomb over his head.
‘Not like they cared before that there were padawan’s out there.’ He thought grouchily.
A part of him knew that it was Obi-Wan’s disability that made them suddenly interested, a blind Jedi running around doing impossible feats.
‘If even one of them calls my padawan ‘broken’, I swear, I will ram my mechano han-’
“Knight Skywalker!” A familiar and unwanted voice called out and Anakin grit his teeth as he came to a still, turning around slowly to face his own wife with a bow. “Senator Amidala.” He murmured, noting with some surprise that Commander Fox and another Coruscant Guard was following her.
Force, she was beautiful, wearing a golden dress with white details, no jewelry on her but her hair set up in a beautiful crowning braid.
Yet he wished she hadn’t intercepted him, for all her beauty.
Lately their conversations had been too strained, too much happening with Ahsoka and the war and a part of Anakin recognized that their relationship hadn’t been healthy even before that. That they strained to talk, to be honest, to give each other what they needed.
With a new padawan…
Well, Obi-Wan was his priority, like Ahsoka should have been from the moment she was his padawan.
It was putting a large strain on their relationship, Padme recognizing that Anakin no longer trusted her, no longer talked to her and Anakin recognizing that she hadn’t done so from the start.
Padme smiled at him, a bit nervous but still as pretty as an angel. Anakin’s heart gave a complicated throb as he peered back at her, tucking his hands into his robe sleeves to hide how they were shaking.
“Apologies for interrupting you Knight Skywalker but I…” She hesitated then took a deep breath, her face turning sad. “I heard your new padawan is not likely to make it. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am Anakin.” Padme stated softly, biting at her lips.
Startling, his eyes widening slightly before his lips pursed, Anakin couldn’t help but glare at his wife. “Where did you hear that?” He asked harshly.
It took her by surprise clearly, the slight woman jerking to as she stared up at him. “Chancellor Palpatine mentioned it when I met with him earlier today.” Anakin looked past Padme to where Fox was standing and signing that the conversation had occurred.
Obi-Wan’s condition was not a widespread rumor, that he was sick, sure, but not how badly of he had been or that it had almost claimed his life.
That the healers had managed to save him had been a little miracle on its own when they had identified the poison as one with very few cures, a snake from Korriban of all places.
Yet no one had known how severe it was outside of the Order or the troopers, the information having been put on ice to be able to trace it to the potential culprits.
For the Chancellor to know how severe it was, for him to be able to claim that Obi-Wan wouldn’t make it with such certainty spoke of knowing what poison his little padawan was slipped…
Anakin knew then that Palpatine had something to do with Obi-Wan’s poisoning.
There was no other way the other could be so sure of Obi-Wan’s death and the Chancellor could have no idea that there was a poison expert in the Halls of Healing, one who had been on duty when Obi-Wan was brought in.
He couldn’t have known that Kix would have been able to keep Obi-Wan stable just long enough to get him to the temple.
Couldn’t have known that Obi-Wan’s body would fight the poison when put into a medical coma.
Didn’t know that Obi-Wan would survive.
The Chancellor was involved in the poisoning of a Jedi padawan, Anakin’s padawan.
A lightbulb popped overhead, sparking as Anakin fought to control his rage, Padme clearly reading his face as she frowned in worry and reached out to him.
Anakin stepped back. “My padawan… is in a coma. Thank you for your concern Senator Amidala.” He bit out, desperate not to give out anymore information, not where there were ears that could hear, not when Obi-Wan had barely survived.
Not when the Chancellor could try again if he knew Obi-Wan was still weak.
He turned on his heel and left Padme behind with Fox, fuming as he headed down the a side hall he knew was a shortcut, several bulbs popping overhead as he fought with his own wrath and concern.
Grunting as he woke up, Boba stared at the dim ceiling for a long minute as he wondered what in the hell had woken him, the sound of one of his snoring bedmates annoying but familiar to Boba, it couldn’t be that.
It wasn’t his alarm, that’s for sure, so what in Sith hells ha-a soft whimper interrupted his tired thought and Boba was suddenly very awake as he turned his head quickly towards the noise.
Paz still on his back and was snoring deeply, the weird neck pillow he used to sleep comfortably in his helmet still tucked under his head as he slept in the middle, one arm awkwardly sprawled over his chest and the other still tucked under the waistband of his shorts.
For some odd reason, Paz liked to stick one of his hands down his boxers, arm across his body as he rested it on his hipbone.
A small smile twitched onto Boba’s lips at the sight he had come to find endearing, finding the others blanket down at the foot end, Paz most likely having become too hot during the rise of the sun.
Another whimper echoed and Boba’s breath caught as realization hit him.
Din.
Slowly, careful so he wouldn’t wake the other two hyper vigilant warriors sharing his bed and life, Boba slid out of their large. In the gray light peeking in through the corners of the curtain, he made his way around on bare feet, his heart sinking at the sight of his bared lover.
Din was curled up in a fetal position, clearly visible as he had also kicked his blanket off at some point. His legs were pulled up and his arms were pressed to his chest, his body shaking ever so slightly. His tanned skin was coated in sweat, his eyelids flickered heavily and his lips were twitching, as if speaking to ward someone off, though Boba could make no sense of any words.
Boba breathed out, kneeling down, uncertain what to do.
A nightmare was never easy for any warrior and he was shocked Paz was sleeping through the noise. Maybe he had turned down his helmet audio for the night but occasionally Din would twitch in the bed, his back pressed to Paz arm and Boba wasn’t sure what the hell to do.
Waking sleeping warriors were never easy but he couldn’t stand to see Din like this and in the gray of the light, his face scar almost looked swollen.
Maybe it was the scar, Boba knew from his own that they could flare with pain and maybe Din’s face scar was the same way.
“Fuck me…” He hissed quietly then reached out, touching Din’s upper arm. “Din, Princess, wak-” Din let out a cry and lashed out, his uncoordinated fist striking Boba in the cheek, sending him flailing back with a throbbing face.
Despite half expecting it, despite being almost resigned to it, Boba still let out a violent and loud curse as his ass hit the sandstone floor and his back the wall.
The cry and move woke Paz too, the big warrior letting out a mighty roar as he sat up and all three of them heard the ripping of fabric as he bounced out of bed with unexpected agility for a man his size.
Both Din and Boba, the latter holding his cheek, turned to the man and found Paz shorts sliding slowly down his legs, baring his frankly magnificent arse to the bedroom if you were to ask Boba, a very, very magnificent ass.
For a moment, only the panting of air was heard before Boba cracked up from the sheer hilarity of the situation, Din letting out a slightly nervous giggle and Paz muttering slightly as he looked around, clearly confused about what in the world had just happened as it was clear they were safe in their bedroom.
Snorting at the puppy dog tilt of the others head, Boba rubbed gingerly at his cheek. “Put on some new underwear cyare, we don’t need a full moon right now.” He teased softly.
Paz grumbled slightly, scratching at his pubic trail before nodding. “Mmmkay.”
Still giggling slightly, Boba shuffled up slowly and sat down on the bedside, grunting slightly as Din cautiously touched him. “Its alright, you had a nightmare. I don’t blame you.” He rumbled at the guilty look of the others wide, brown eyes.
“Still doesn’t make it alright to hit you.” Din rasped out, glancing over at Paz as the other found himself a new pair of shorts from his drawer.
Shaking his head softly, Boba just smiled at him. “You didn’t mean to little one.” Boba gently knocked his knuckles over Din’s chin, leaning in to press their foreheads together. This close, he could feel that there was heat in the scar and he let out a small hum, lifting his fingers to gently prod at it.
Din hissed quietly but didn’t move away, the bed bouncing a bit as Paz climbed back into their bed and settled down again, muttering tiredly before giving a loud, jaw cracking yawn. “What the kark just happened?” He grumbled out, scratching at the wry hairs on his chest.
“Nightmare, I hit Boba.” Din confessed, flinching a bit at the sudden silence on the other side.
Paz raised his head, t-visor locked on Boba. “…You okay?” He turned his head to Din. “Either of you?”
It warmed Boba to hear the concern and from the wobbly smile on Din’s lips, it did the same for him. “Throbs a bit, nothing some ice won’t solve,” He rumbled, still gently touching the edges of Din’s face scar. “I got some creams that would help this, want me to find them?” He queried softly.
He didn’t want to push Din for answers, didn’t want the other to feel forced to answer them.
For a moment, his face pulling taunt, Din hesitated before he deflated and gave a small nod against Boba’s forehead. “Please… it’s… I don’t know, it feels hot and somehow taunt. I don’t know what to do with it.” He confessed quietly, leaning back into the hand Paz settled on his back.
Pressing a soft kiss to the edge on his forehead, Boba slid off the bed. “Alright, I’ll fetch the ice and the cream I use for warm scars.” He stated promisingly, watching for a second as Paz gently coaxed Din into laying down against him.
It was a pretty sight and Boba might have stayed to watch as Paz ran his hand through Din’s hair if it wasn’t for the throbbing of his face reminding him that he had a task to do.
‘Cream and ice first, cuddles with my little ones afterward.’ He promised himself, grumbling faintly as he made his way to the mini fridge and freezer combo he had in the sitting room of the quarters.
It was really intended for drinks and a few snacks but right now the ice in the freezer was going to be for his face, Boba tucking it into the ice pack they had so it wouldn’t leak water everywhere. ‘Maybe I should just start keeping this thing in the freezer.’ He mused thoughtfully to himself as he made his way back.
The cream was quickly collected from the fresher, Boba getting a look at his face in the mirror.
No blood, thank kark, Din had hit him hard but hadn’t broken skin.
Not that Boba would have minded but he knew that Din would have felt even more guilty.
The bruise that was coming would be magnificent, that much Boba knew. Even half asleep and dazed from a nightmare, Din was deadly and a fierce storm and Boba had no idea he could be even more attracted to their princess.
But a little display of strength and violence had always gotten Boba’s blood roaring with attraction.
The sight when he returned to the bed had him softening, still attracted but a softer sort as he watched Paz coddle Din, stroking his hair with a slow tenderness that made Boba’s heart flutter, Din turned trustingly into his chest after his nightmare.
The flutter only grew when Din, a bit doopy eyed from the hair petting, sat up and let Boba rub cream into his scar with slow, gentle fingers.
Hands that had bought violence and pain, hands Boba once had thought would never be clean of the blood, bringing Din comfort as he looked at him with those large doe eyes full of trust and warmth.
And maybe a little guilt.
Paz hand found Boba’s thigh in the meantime, petting lightly as he watched them and Boba could swear he could feel the sappy smile on a face he had yet to see. ‘Ner mesh’la.’ Boba would do anything for his little ones, even setting the galaxy ablaze if they asked and it should terrify him.
But all it served to do was make him weak in the knees, because Din and Paz would never ask for it.
Watching everyone as closely as he could, in particular the redhead, Maul had come to the conclusion that his new alpha was… strange.
Or maybe different.
He wasn’t ignorant, Maul knew very well that the way he had been raised was… immoral.
Many beings would find it reprehensible the way Sidious had treated him through the years and as a youth, he had thought that was simply how it was suppose to be. The man had been his master and his alpha throughout the years, his power over Maul absolute and his demand for obedience total.
Anything but total obedience got Maul punished, the consequences of his lack of submission leaving the zabrak body straining as he struggled to get his tasks and missions done.
Sometimes, very rarely, he got to rest his beaten and lightning twitching body but that was not often, Sidious was a hard task master.
But his new alpha… this Jedi, he wasn’t like that.
He expected obedience too, but…
Not submission and his orders weren’t…
It was confusing, so far the Jedi’s orders had related to Maul health, ensuring he remained still for treatment, ensuring he ate and only one of the orders were really something that upset him when the Jedi tied him up.
But even then it wasn’t really that upsetting, the ropes hadn’t been tightly bound and they were weak. Even without his werewolf strength or the Force, Maul would have easily escaped them.
It was for show, simply for the beings on Naboo to think he was restrained.
To keep them calm despite how much he could sense the discomfort and outright hate some had towards not only him but also his new alpha.
Were discrimination wasn’t unfamiliar to Maul but to see it directed at a Jedi…
He hadn’t been able to think too much about it as the news of the Jedi council and his former master was arriving, the instinctual fear of him causing Maul to curl up even as his insides howled in defiance, wanting to fight.
But fear had leashed him for years and hate had kept him strong, he would endure Sidious arrival and prostate himself.
Only…
That hadn’t happened.
Instead his new alpha had pulled him up and pulled him along with the child latched onto the Jedi’s waist, leaving the landing area to the tall Jedi as they returned to the rooms that were gifted to them temporarily.
Kenobi had untied him the moment they were inside and sent Maul to the couch, fetched him the jerky that must be for the Jedi originally and let Maul eat.
Let him rest and relax, the fear slowly easing as his distance to the landing party made him feel more secure.
It was… nice.
Maul wasn’t sure what to make of any of that, of nice Jedi, nice beings, treating him as if he had worth beyond his ability as a weapon. Sidious had never treated him kindly and others shunned him, the feel of the Dark side warning them away despite not realizing what Maul was.
Maybe beings had treated him neutrally at best but Sidious training had been more stick than carrot as they said and fear had driven Maul to improve and do better at the man’s feet.
Yet here he was, sitting on a couch, the blond human on the other side as he ate fruit, Maul eating jerky as his new alpha ordered proper food up to them from the kitchens, his voice pitched to sound like Jinn instead of his own.
Clearly he expected better treatment if the staff thought it was Jinn ordering and Maul couldn’t help but wonder if this was something Kenobi was used to doing, mimicking his master’s voice.
He wanted to know more about the other were as he watched him, about his new alpha as he slowly chewed no the jerky, wanted to learn how another were had survived Coruscant and the core’s.
Wanted to know another werewolf and maybe, just maybe, far in his subconscious, he also wanted to know safety with a pack member.
SWpromptsandask 