Angst

Distant pain- obiwan wishing for mand’alor fett and now he sees jango alive– is he going to help make mand’alor fett a reality? Or an alternative option for the clones? I love your writing!!

Posted on av swmoddy

There’s a karking Jedi at his table, in his ship and the Jedi is not dead.

No, the Jedi is quietly sipping shig at Slave 1’s table, watching Jango with predatory eyes, a damn dragon curled around his neck with his legs kicked out under the table lazily, ankle occasionally brushing against Jango’s own.

He’d call the other’s behavior almost arrogance if he didn’t know just how much power is in the other man’s shoulders and legs. Not to mention the karking dragon around his neck.

“Admittedly, when the Force told me to pay attention, I never expected this.” Kenobi drawled, settling the cup down on the table and yet cradling it still as he cocked his head.

Jango was grateful that Boba had obeyed and gone to the cockpit, though he was sure his son was still listening in. “What, thought me dead?” He sneered at the Jedi.

The man inclined his head. “You went to battle against Jedi, knowing what we could do. So yes, I saw Mace’s lightsaber pass through your neck,” His eyes flickered down to the prosthetic at Jango’s neck. “I can make a few guesses on your survival. I’m glad to see it actually.” He stated casually.

Mand’alor.

The other had called him mand’alor.

Jango suspected what the other wanted but… why?

Jedi were peace keepers and Jedi and Mandalorians had… strained relationships.

But here this Jedi was…

Kenobi placed his elbows on the table, watching him, eyes lidded before he snorted. “You know, I do wonder if you were simply desperate or coerced into working with Dooku, much less the Sith that leads him.” He drawled.

Jango’s lips tightened into a thin line but he said nothing, simply lifted his own cup to sip. How much did this Jedi know?

“Are you aware of my reputation?” Kenobi questioned, smirking when Jango brows simply furrowed, showing his confusion but also his wariness. “Ah, you don’t. Good, it means I covered my tracks well. See, in the temple, I’m known as the Council’s bloody hand,” Kenobi watched Jango closely, simply snorting when Jango reached for a blade at his hip. “I did undercover work, the most twisted and dangerous missions the Senate had. But I was good about keeping my identity hidden.” He drawled.

Well, that did… clarify a bit… Jango guessed.

Not simply a Jedi or even a Jedi shadow, but full on undercover work for the dirtiest of missions the Senate could send him on. Which Jango knew could be bad.

“It means I heard the whispers about why the clone army was really made for.” Kenobi continued, his voice now a tad bland, his face blank.

It took everything in Jango not to tense, even as he heard the telltale shift of the cockpit chair creak loudly, likely Boba getting up.

Kenobi didn’t react to the sound, simply stared at Jango. “…If anything of the morsels of rumors I heard were true, then I wonder what Jaster would say about this entire thing.” He stated darkly.

Jango slammed his cup down, metal twisting as hot shig coated his hands. He barely noticed the pain as he shot to his feet with a snarl, reaching for his blaster only to freeze when the dragon twisted up and hissed, fire in her open mouth even if it had not sent it at him.

Kenobi simply stared at him, his face still blank.

“…How dare you take his name in your mouth.” Jango snarled, keeping his hand away from his blaster as he trembled with rage.

Sitting back, pressing into the lounge couch, Kenobi snorted. “Considering I meet him and he tried to adopt me, I do actually. Seeing as he taught me the supercommando codex, I know what he taught you, what you were suppose to live by.” He drawled.

Jango felt unarmored, shaken, staring at this Jedi, who was claiming to have known Jaster. “…Lies.” He rasped.

Setting the cup down, Kenobi crossed his arms over his chest, a defensive reaction Jango knew in humanoid. He raised one copper brow then sighed, glancing at the ceiling of the Slave 1, as if praying for patience. “…Our language. Our leader. Our tribe. Education and armor. Self defense,” Kenobi stated in a steady voice, slowly returning cold eyes to Jango, reciting the resol’nare to Jango. “Beyond that, a code of honor, no grunt work, no killing for foot as the Kyr’stad, defend children and farmers with your life.” He continued in that steady, cold voice.

Jango could almost hear Jaster’s voice in his head, quietly reciting the same things, though more affectionately. Frozen as he was, the dragon seemed not to consider him a threat anymore as it settled down, pressing its snout into Kenobi’s neck.

“Honorable mercenaries, that’s what Jaster told me as he tried to adopt me after finding me on Coruscant, defending kids from the lower slums after I got lost from my creche group.” Kenobi shrugged, as if he wasn’t breaking Jango’s perception.

“I…” He licked his suddenly dry lips, wishing he still had shig.

Kenobi snorted and pushed his cup towards Jango, watching him drink desperately of the still luke warm liquid, his hands stinging from the burning water from earlier. “…I wonder what he thinks about you being involved on getting the younglings of the Jedi order killed.” Kenobi stated silkily.

Jango froze, eyes wide.

He knew he was older than the other, this Jedi upstart in his home but at that moment, he felt young and dirty, as if the other was calling on something Jango had refused to think about.

“I wonder what he’d feel about all those children,” Kenobi nodded towards the ramp they had come out. “Wearing your face, becoming soldiers without a choice for anything else, fodder in a meaningless war, killed in seconds, harmed… denied their legacies… gar eyayah.” Kenobi was staring at him with narrowed, burning eyes.

For the first time in years, Jango couldn’t help but wonder if that was how Jaster would have looked at him too.

For what he had done.

His breath was too loud in his own ears.

Kenobi opened his mouth again. “Where is your honor, Mand’alor?” His tone was as smooth as a blade and dripping with venomous intent.

Gar eyayah = your echos

Severed stomach: Din will learn about his stomach now, won’t he?

Posted on av swmoddy

Carefully settling Din on the honestly lavish bed of his private room, Paz tried not to glance around too much.

Honestly, if he was right, then Din hadn’t quite decorated this place on his own, this reeked of someone wanting to spoil the beroya, without Din quite knowing how to do anything but accept the gifts he was given.

‘But its nice to know he’s been cared for.’ Paz couldn’t help but think, looking up as he heard a few quiet clicks and snicks. It was Fett, opening drawers and cabinets, finding clothes for Din.

Obviously familiar with the room.

Yup, this was the one that had likely bought in all the expensive and luxurious things of the room.

Din had a bad tendency to give away more than he should and keeping less for himself.

The entire tribe had been aware of it, it was one of the reason they put their best foot forward when Din returned from his bounties.

If they looked shabby, then Din was likely to only keep enough for the most basic of supplies for his own survival. There wasn’t a verd of the covert that hadn’t heard the medic grumble to herself about the amount of cauterized scars on Din’s body.

Something Paz had gotten to see when Din had been put into the bacta tube.

From toes to shoulder, Din had clear scars bearing the marks of the cauterize tool. Simply because the man kept as little bacta as he possibly could, giving all he could to the covert.

To the younglings of the covert.

Sighing internally as Fett continued rummaging around, Paz instead sat on the edge of the bed, gently patting Din’s leg. “Its good to see you awake verd.” He murmured, not quite bringing himself to admit just how worried he was.

Din peered at him, beautiful brown eyes peering over the dark veil of his robe. After a second, they curved in a manner Paz knew indicated someone smiling even if he had never seen this particular person smile. “I’m… gratified, to… see you Paz.” The man stated a tad awkwardly.

Snorting slightly, a tad bemused, Paz stared quietly at the other man, keeping his hand on the others leg. “…Din, I’m sorry.” He finally sighed, watching how the other tilted his head.

Like a puppy, curious, a tad confused by the state of his eyes.

“For what?” The other questioned, tone bemused behind the veil.

Paz could hear that Boba had gone still by the clothing drawers and cabinet, likely suspecting what Paz was apologizing for. “Well, for one, for trying to rip your bucket off you last we saw each other,” He stated a tad dryly, smirking when Din let out a small, amused snort. But the smirk faded quickly. “…But also for fucking up your stomach.” He stated a tad more quietly.

Brown eyes blinked rapidly at that before Din reached to his own stomach, pressing his hand to it with a low noise. “My stomach?” He blinked hard, eyes flickering a tad, as if he was trying to parse out what Paz wasn’t saying.

“When we found you,” Boba finally spoke, coming over with an armload of clothes in shades of soft blue and black. “It been two days at least, likely more and you were at death’s door. You’d lost a lot of blood and there was infection setting in, we had no other option but to set a bacta injection.” Boba low voice was as soothing as possible.

As if he was dealing with a skittish animal and not a trained mandalorian.

Din’s eyes turned a tad panicked before he took a deep breath. “…How bad?” He whispered, knowing the things that could go wrong with shrapnel in bodies and bacta.

Boba and Paz exchanged looks, both had been dreading this but there was no way around it. They had to inform Din about the damage to his body. What they had done to him, to save his life.

Setting the clothes slowly down on the bed, Boba sat on the other edge of the bed. “When… when I sat the injection, the bacta healed around the shrapnel,” He answered slowly, Din’s eyes focused on him. “It was… it severed sixty percent of your stomach, closing the injury around the shrapnel. The med droid says you have basically a gastric sleeve instead of a normal stomach now.” He explained carefully.

Din stared at him, eyes slightly wide.

Boba picked up the blue shirt, showing Din the sleeve and then tightening it, making the esophagus and then a section that was suppose to be the stomach that was left. “This basically, since the bacta healed where the cut was. The med droid had to remove the section that was cut away, clean away stomach acids and… just everything.” He finished explaining.

Paz had almost thrown up as he droid had explained to both him and Boba that it had to extract the part of the stomach that had been mostly severed, along with removing pus, blood and stomach acid that had filled the open cavities of Din’s body.

Brown eyes stared at the sleeve, flickering them over where Boba was showing Din’s ‘esophagus’, the new size of the ‘stomach’ and then the ‘intestines’. It was basically all one long line now as the med droid had explained to Paz and Boba.

Shifting, Din reached up, rubbing at his face then he nodded. “I… I see. That… okay. I… that means I have to go on a special diet… doesn’t it?” He whispered, snorting shakily when Boba gave him a surprised look. “I’ve heard of sleeve stomachs before, generally for rich core worlders of course but… yeah.” He breathed out heavily and then hid his face in his hands, shaking slightly.

Overwhelmed.

Paz didn’t know what to do.

He was good at comforting younglings, keeping verd together in battle but… not this.

But Fett apparently was.

Because he instantly dropped the sleeve and reached out, pressing his hands steadily down on Din’s shoulders,  thumbs pressing into the clavicle. Paz absently noted he wasn’t wearing his gloves.

Instantly, Din’s hands shot up and he wrapped his hands around Boba’s wrists, shaking still but focusing on gripping the wrists offered to him, his thumbs visibly pressed to the underside, getting Boba’s pulse.

“That’s it, deep breaths verd’ika, in,” Fett murmured deeply, taking a. obvious, deep inhale. And Din mimicked it. “And out,” A deep exhale and Din mimicked once more. “Repeat those for me.” The King of Tatooine murmured.

And as told, Din did, eyes trained on Boba’s face, his eyes focused on the man.

Slowly his trembling eased, though they didn’t fully disappear. Slowly, his eyes closed, dipping a bit forward as he gentled his grip on the other’s wrists. “…Vor entye.”

Only nodding, Boba let out a small sigh. “For now Din… don’t think about it. We can talk about it after you washed and slept… yeah?” He rumbled quietly, smiling slightly when he got a small nod. Carefully, the king helped Din to his feet. “I set a shower chair into the fresher, I’ll help you in, but will sit out here. That alright?” He got another nod.

Paz felt quite useless as he watched Boba slowly guide him into the fresher, Din stumbling slowly along while leaning on the other man. ‘…He needs rest, anything else can come after Din has rested.’ Paz decided firmly, knowing how exhausting bacta tanks could be.

Beroya = bounty hunter

Verd = soldier

Verd’ika = little soldier

Vor entye  = Thank you

Is there anything new in #dangerous Galaxy. Hopefully the Troopers are just about ready to take out the rest of the Senate. Thank you for writing.

Posted on av swmoddy

Pouring a full glass of whiskey, getting the actual good shit for once, Cody let out a deep breath as he stared out of the barracks office window. Honestly, this office had never felt safe to him with its giant window, felt too much like someone could snipe him in the back, just like the Chancellor’s blasted office but… just for tonight, he felt he deserved it.

Just like he deserved the good whiskey.

It had been a gift from Obi-Wan, a full two years ago now and Cody had extremely slowly been savoring it.

The bottle was almost empty.

Just one more glass left in it and Cody reverently placed it on the desk, staring at the amber liquid before picking up his glass and stepping towards the window, taking a slow sip of the burning liquid as he stared at the Rotunda.

Tomorrow was the day.

Tomorrow it was make or break it for the GAR and the Jedi order.

Cody knew that should the vode fail, the ramifications of it would hit the Jedi too, as they were suppose to be in ‘control’ of the army.

Every trooper involved would be put down, executed, the ranks refilled by other clones.

Cody’s hand tightened on the glass and then he sighed deeply. No, he couldn’t think that way, they had to win, there was no other option, not with what was on the line.

Between the vode that would brought in to replace those that were ‘decommissioned’, to the Jedi that would suffer censure and regulations, likely more abuse, after the ones protecting them now were gone.

A shudder when down Cody’s spine at that.

Fox had come by, grabbing the strongest of the moonshine they had, the type that could strip paint of ships and just… chugged it.

Apparently several natborns, among those Tarkin and several Senators hadn’t kept their hands of off the vode either. Several Guards had finally stepped forward, coming to Fox to tell him what had happened and what they had been hiding.

The ball was rolling in that direction now.

More vode would step forward in the next weeks to months, of that Cody was sure.

Once they started to feel safe, secure that there would be no consequences for talking, for getting help.

‘The white hat slicers should have set up by now,’ Cody savored another sip. ‘Full comm’s knockout, a blackout over the whole of Coruscant except for the vode taking care of the traffic.’ Cody glanced up at the skyline. If ships weren’t being directed, people would start being suspicious up there, so Cody had ensured that several comm ready vode, Hot Lips and Radiohead among them, would be stationed in the traffic centers.

It would keep the ships at bay, floating up there, various excuses prepared so they wouldn’t be suspicious until it was to late. To late for the Senators to send an emergency message out, too late to stop the vode.

To late to stop the coup.

Though Cody had considered contacting Dooku at this point, strange as that was. He had disregarded that idea as soon as it came, just because the other was killing CIS Senators that had once been Republic, didn’t mean he was on their side.

His comm crackled and Cody let out a low noise of surprise, hand clenching on the glass as dread echoed through him. Had there been an incident?

Quickly, Cody pulled it from his belt and answered, setting his glass down on the desk. “Commander Cody here.” He murmured.

“Vod-Commander, its Wooley, you have a guest,” Cody paused at that, blinking. “Its General Kenobi, should I send him to you or would you like to come down for him.” Wooley questioned, and by the way he had corrected himself, Obi-Wan must be right there in front of him.

“I’m in the command office. General can come right up as he wants.” Cody assured the other, letting Wooley know that anything incriminating was hidden away.

“Right away sir.” Wooley chirped almost cheerfully.

It didn’t take long for the door to open, a robed Obi-Wan slipping into the office, glancing about the room curiously. Cody had dimmed the lights slightly, knowing it be easier on the Jedi eyes and had fetched another glass.

Before Obi-Wan said anything, Cody held up the bottle as he took note of the soft swish of the others robe on the office floor. “Interested General?” He smiled at him, putting on ice his need to ask for the others health.

He already knew that Obi-Wan would not answer him, not now, maybe not for a weeks.

So instead he offered a drink.

Lips quirked at that and Obi-Wan nodded slowly. “That does sound quite pleasant.” The Jedi agreed softly, slowly walking over to stand at Cody’s side, accepting the now filled glass.

Seeing as it had been a gift from Obi-Wan, it felt quite fitting for him to get the last glass and drink it with the Commander.

“Any special occasion Commander?” Obi-Wan asked, watching Cody pick up his own drink.

Pausing a tad at the question, Cody eyed the Jedi.

They both knew that the other was aware of what was going to happen, even if Obi-Wan didn’t have the timeline. But both were ignoring what the other knew, plausible deniability, closing their eyes so things could happen.

Vod’alor Cody was going to keep it that way until the end, until the solution was presented and both the vode and the Jedi were safe from Senators greedy, torturous hands. So he shrugged and gave the other a smile. “No, just… hoping for a new day.” He stated easily.

Obi-Wan tilted his head, the neon lights of Coruscant spreading shadows on his face. It was easy to see the dark bags beneath his eyes at that moment, see the start of crowfeet. But also the small flash of hope in the others eyes.

“A new day…” Obi-Wan glanced out, looking to the Rotunda.

Cody watched him in turn before lifting his drink, smiling when Obi-Wan looked back to him at the move. “K’oyacyi.” He murmured in a steady voice, trying to grow the hope he had glimpsed in green eyes.

A surprised huff escaped Obi-Wan at that, eyes flickering quickly back to the Rotunda and then settling firmly on Cody once more. “K’oyacyi… Vod’alor.” Obi-Wan clicked their glasses together, his smile turning a tad shy in the face of Cody’s surprise.

Unable to find more words, Cody simply stepped in closer and reached out, carefully tucking his hand around the back of Obi-Wan’s head and pulling him down into a light forehead tap, Obi-Wan following willingly, even closing his eyes.

“K’oyacyi Cody…” The Jedi whispered, voice a tad more desperate, Cody lightly scratching at the others scalp with his nails in silent reassurance as they held onto their glasses.

K’oyacyi = 1. *Cheers!* 2. Can also mean: *Hang in there* or 3. *Come back safely.* Literally, a command; *Stay alive!*

Just saw the new Fertilewar Au and like what are the thoughts of Stewjoni Obi-wan about being given an entire battalion of Mandalorians? Does he know his heritage or is he utterly confused about what his instincts are telling him and the feelings of want and hunger all the clones are projecting into the Force towards him?

Posted on av swmoddy

Watching his master and the captain talk together, Obi-Wan fiddled awkwardly with his robe, needle held tightly between index and thumb as he sat outside his tent in lotus position.

He was going to mend a hole in his robe but had gotten… distracted if he was honest.

The clones were distracting, despite trying to modulate their thoughts a tad for the Jedi sake, it was difficult for most to ignore them when their thoughts flashed so loudly sometimes.

Especially for him.

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure why, but everything about them made his very soul seemingly sit up and take notice. Hell, even Jango Fett had produced that reaction, so maybe it was something to do with Jango, as the original template?

But so far Obi-Wan just hadn’t had time to figure it out and being around his former master made it hard too.

Don’t get him wrong, he loved Anakin but uh… Anakin could be a tad overprotective. And if he learned that Obi-Wan was attracted to basically the entire GAR and they were seemingly attracted back, then Obi-Wan would never get a moment of privacy while on campaigns.

It was just how Anakin was.

Obi-Wan couldn’t quite blame the other man really.

Anakin took on Obi-Wan on just days before he turned thirteen, his face a scowling storm, muttering something about interfering goblins and old masters before gently leading Obi-Wan away from a transport to Bandomeer.

The masters had sent Obi-Wan away.

Then Knight Skywalker had come for him, finding him on the transport bay, moments before boarding the Monument, offering him an apprenticeship with him.

It had taken… weeks, if not months, before Obi-Wan had felt secure in his position as Anakin’s padawan.

After all, he had been sent away before he turned thirteen, for reasons he at the time didn’t really understand. He had seen passionate and even angry Jedi before, so why was he so much worse?

Anakin had finally told him, years later, that it was Grandmaster Yoda’s fault, that he had intended him for his linage, but through Qui-Gon Jinn.

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what to make of that.

He liked his grandmaster well enough, he guessed, but… the idea of being apprentice to a man that disregarded visions so obviously when Obi-Wan’s skills laid in precognition and prophecy…

It didn’t sound like a good match.

Anakin had apparently figured it out, which was why he had come for Obi-Wan on the platform. Supposedly, there had been several Knights and Masters interested in teaching Obi-Wan, who had been discouraged by Yoda since he wanted him for Qui-Gon Jinn.

Learning that had been… difficult.

Anakin knew that and due to that knowledge, had been protective from the get go, keeping his padawan close to him and stressing about every little injury and hurt.

Then Melida/Daan happened.

It was an ancient conflict, it was supposedly easing a bit when Anakin and Obi-Wan were there, mostly to refuel and get a look at the planet.

The war had been going on, only a lull between battles in a conflict that had beeing on for far too long.

Now with a plague added.

With destroyed waterlines, waste and corpses piling, disease had become a plague on the world and in just half an hour, Obi-Wan had become separated from his master after a bomb hit down too close for comfort and Anakin had been unable to land again after evacuation when he realized his padawan wasn’t on the ship, the planet put under quarantine.

Obi-Wan lowkey blamed R2 for Anakin not realizing he was there, if he was honest.

Not that Anakin didn’t try, but under the threat of being shot out of the sky due to the plague to avoid spreading it, there wasn’t much even an ace pilot like Anakin could do.

The fourteen year old still spent over a month on a plague and war infested world, fighting with the Young, who wanted the war to end.

It felt like the right thing… but everything had gone so horribly wrong so fast, just when peace seemed to be in sight.

Anakin hadn’t let his padawan out of his sight for weeks after that, growling at anyone that made a comment about Obi-Wan fighting in a war.

‘But it came in use, didn’t it?’ Obi-Wan thought a tad cynically, peering at his master and the captain again, only to look away quickly when he found amber eyes looking at him in return, his cheeks burning.

He felt hungry again and felt the same hunger reflected back at him.

‘Why… no one else reacts to them like I do… why are they making me so hungry…’ Obi-Wan swallowed thickly and glanced up through his lashes, breathing a tad out in relief that Rex was no longer looking at him. ‘I need to figure this out.’

If you find the time for it… I am dying to know what happens next in Sightlessbird!

Posted on av swmoddy

Sitting back in his chair, Fox let out a deep sigh as he rubbed at his face with his hands.

He had finally managed to find a gas to use on the Chancellor, dorin rimu gas. Completely harmless to Kel Dor’s but to humans, lethal if inhaled for a prolonged time, just like dorin gas itself. The difference was that while dorin gas was completely natural and formed on its own on dorin, dorin rimu needed to be developed from a certain rock being broken down.

Fox had already arranged for the rocks to be brought to the barracks, under the guise as ‘décor, as they were rather pretty, colorful rocks.

He would have to involve a few brothers for that process, though, not tell them what the gas was for.

Maybe he’d lie, tell them it was for one of the Jedi.

Dorin rimu was often used as a painkiller for them, sort of like laughing gas apparently, from what Fox research informed him. Colorless, odorless and lethal to humans.

It was perfect.

Fox would have to ensure the man breathed in while alone in his office or while only brothers with helmets were in there.

Or meeting with Kel Dor’s.

For them, it would be safe if perhaps a tad frustrating or humiliating if they got high.

‘But its a sacrifice I’m willing to make.’ Fox smirked a tad into his hands before dropping his hands, eyes falling to the framed photo on his desk, one of the few decorations he kept, even going so far as to physically have a copy of this day printed.

It was of Obi-Wan, him and Obi-Wan, well over a year ago.

The kid was on Fox back, the commander holding tightly onto his legs as Obi-Wan held onto Fox shoulder pauldrons, laughter visible on his face and a smile on Fox face.

Fox remembered that day, Obi-Wan had come to visit him and the other guards, bringing them homemade fudge from the temple that he had asked one of the master’s to help him make. They had to share of course, Obi-Wan couldn’t bring a ton or make a ton with only one master’s help but there had been enough for a portion for each.

After eating it, Fox stashing most of his in his drawer in his office, the commander had taken Obi-Wan down to the shooting range, quietly continuing the blaster lessons the two had started weeks ago.

It was the first time Obi-Wan had hit the bullseye of the target.

Fox had been so proud, a tad overwhelmed.

Here was this blind Jedi, this slip of a boy, with wide, excited eyes and steady hands, holding a blaster and after weeks of instructions, of gently guiding Obi-Wan’s hands and telling him how to care for the blaster afterward… Obi-Wan had done it.

Obi-Wan had hit the target on his own and fully hit the bullseye.

All on his own.

Of course, afterward there was more hits, Obi-Wan hitting the bullseye every time he shot, but that first day..

Fox couldn’t help himself, lifting his vod’ika of his feet and up into the air, twirling a laughing Obi-Wan around before piggybacking him around the guard building to inform everyone.

Thorn had snapped a picture of them while Fox had been boasting of Obi-Wan.

‘We looked so happy… Obi-Wan was so happy, pleased and joyful…’ Fox picked up the silver frame, gently running his thumb over his little brother’s face. ‘…I’ll get rid of this threat against you, Obi-Wan, there is a war but I’ll make sure you’re safe on Coruscant at the very least. Just stay away for the rest of the month, then you’ll be safe little one, so promises your ori’vod.’ Fox pressed a kiss to the picture.

Then he sat it down and got up, picking his helmet up and pulling it on.

It was time to go back to work.

Time to be ‘just’ another clone trooper in the eyes of many but the reminder of his brothers around him, of Obi-Wan’s hand in his, the respectful greeting of Jedi… it kept him going as he stepped out into the hallway to make his way to the Senate.

Just another day in the life of Commander Fox, dealing with people that didn’t deserve his respect.

It was a good thing he had gotten real skilled at hiding that.

Acting, what an undervalued skill for a vod.

Severedstomach, ph please tell me Din will be alright?

Posted on av swmoddy

Letting out a gasp as he woke up, Din flailed, his limbs heavy and smacking against something hard as he felt wet heat all around him and yet could breath at the same time. Muffled noises echoed around him as Din struggled to see, eyesight blurry and shaky as his toes hurt when they hit something hard.

Something blurry, green and black, moved in front of him and Din cried out, feeling frightened and claustrophobic as he couldn’t move anywhere.

Later, he’d feel ashamed of his behavior, later he’d realize he was in a bacta tube.

But in the moment, he just felt small and scared.

“Easy Din, calm down, breath verd’ika.” Boba’s steady, stern voice echoed in his ears, everything in Din focusing on the authoritative voice, being used to listening to the Armorer as he was.

Din whined with his emotions, shaking as he pressed his hands to the walls around him, a far part of his mind realizing he was in a tube. “B-Boba.” He gasped out, his breathing rushed.

“Yes, I’m here, can you see me?” The green and black blurry shape moved and Din nodded shakily. “Jate verd, you’re in the palace. We brought you home, you were injured, you’re currently in a bacta tube. Suvarir?” The voice kept being stern.

But that was good, it forced Din’s panicking mind to focus on it and it alone instead of how fearful he was and how trapped he felt. So he nodded, whimpering a tad still.

“Jate, ori’jate,” Boba’s voice was lower now, more coaxing. “You woke up earlier than expected, the droids were going to remove you from the bacta tube before you woke up. Just hold on another ten minute and they’ll get you out, alright verd?” He continued.

“K-Keep talking to me. I can’t… its not… I can’t in here.” Din gasped, hands reaching for his face, finding a mask over his mouth and nose, likely the oxygen but also more mask that lead over the rest of his face.

Boba had likely constructed this or had someone else make it, to ensure Din didn’t have his face exposed without his knowledge. His heart thudded a tad, relief and gratefulness echoing.

“Of course verd. I found a friend of yours while you were out.” Boba murmured, talking just as Din had asked.

“F-Friend?” A large, blue shape moved into view, other grey and black one moving around more smoothly than the other.

Someone walking. The grey and black ones must be the droids rolling around but the blue one…

Hope and fear had Din’s heart thudding against his ribs. ‘It… it can’t be… please… please be…’

“Hey there beroya, its good to see you awake,” Paz voice murmured, deep and steady through the vocoder and the comms giving Din their voices. “I got real worried when I got your signal.” He stated.

“P-Paz.” Din cried out, shaking in the bacta as he pressed his hands to the glass.

The blue shaped moved, dark brown gloves pressing over Din’s hands on the other side. “Yeah, I’m here. I’m good. Fett’s been a gracious host to me while you were in here.” Paz rumbled, grunting a tad as the black and green shape, as Boba, moved sharply.

‘Elbow into side.’ Din’s steadier mind supplied.

“He’s a kind of a shabuir, but he makes for a good sparring partner.” Boba grunted out, Din laughing shakily at that.

He could imagine the two trying to wrestle in the downstairs sparring arena, it was one of the cooler areas of the palace and was rather big. “H-He is,” Din agreed shakily, laughing more at the uttered ‘oi!’ from Paz. “He… used to… throw me around in the… the sparring ring… when we were small.” Din shakily got the words out.

“Oh he did,” Boba growled softly and Paz coughed. “You’ll have to join us down in the arena when you’re on two feet Din. Watch us.” Din could almost imagine the smirk on the King of Tatooine’s face.

“Emptying the bacta tube now.” A monotone voice echoed, Din jerking to with shock.

“Easy beroya, its just the medical droid,” Paz said quickly, his deep voice carrying a strain of worry. He was all too familiar with Din’s hate for droids, having been there when Din was rescued. “Its not goin to touch you, when the tube is empty and the harness is activated, I’ll carry you.” He promised.

‘Don’t like droids. Only IG-11. This isn’t IG. IG is dead. Don’t trust it.’ Din breathing was speeding up, even as the bacta around him was draining.

“Breath Din.” Boba demanded, voice once more stern and Din inhaled so sharply his throat hurt, eyes wide to keep an eye on things, to not miss anything as he finally saw both Paz and Boba, the bacta below his eyes, his body heavy as it hung in the harness, no longer just floating.

Boba was standing there without his helmet of course, clearly observing Din, his hands on a display that was likely the reason why Din could hear them. Paz was beside him with his hands still pressed to the tube. “G-Get me out, gedet’ye, gedet’ye Boba, gedet’ye Paz.” He begged as he got his feet in under himself on the floor of the tube, once more feeling claustrophobic and stuck, the sound of a droid so close when he was helpless making him shake.

Paz let out a snarl, so soft it almost didn’t get picked up by the vocoder. “Don’t beg, you don’t have to beg. You’ll be out, just a few more moments Din.” He promised.

Din let out another whine that turned into a relieved gasp as the tube unsealed, the front being pulled open by Paz.

Large, steady hands reached out, undoing the harness with swift movements, startlingly deft for the size of the owner and Din almost collapsed without the support.

Would have without Paz.

But Paz was there, pulled him out of the tube and into his arms, the armor cool against Din’s chest as he pressed his cheek to the cool, blue plate. Goosebumps broke on Din’s skin but he pressed closer, rubbing his cheek lightly against the beskar.

Safe, he didn’t even care that Paz had exposed his face.

Large arms came down around him, pulling him in closer. “Don’t look up. I won’t look down.” Paz murmured reassuringly, large hand pressed to the middle of his back.

“Kay…” Standing there, gooey and shaking, Din let out a soft noise as Boba’s hand came into view, a hooded robe in hand. Din knew that robe, it had a little inbuilt veil that could be fastened, showing only the top part of Din’s face, his eyes with the hood covering his eyes. Boba had it commissioned especially for Din’s comfort.

“Cover up verd’ika, lets get you to a shower to get all the bacta gunk of off you.” Boba rumbled, his steady voice familiar and just as safe as Paz.

‘Home…’ Covered in goo, standing on shaking legs with goosebumps on his body, Din couldn’t help but smile as he reached for his robe. “Ni’m yaim, Boba.”

Boba paused, letting out a small noise. “… Olarom yaim, Din.” He stated, voice low and full of warmth.

Jate = Good

Verd = Soldier

Verd’ika = Little soldier

Suvarir  = Understand

Ori’jate= Very good

Beroya = Bounty hunter

Shabuir = Jerk (stronger insult than jerk technically)

Gedet’ye = Please

Ni’m yaim = I’m home

Olarom yaim = Welcome home

anon again yeeeeey so moddy whats happening with baby faced torment

Posted on av swmoddy

Stepping out of the healer room with a quiet goodbye, Obi-Wan glanced around the hall, finding Cody pushing away from the wall. Cody had insisted being there for all of Obi-Wan’s mind healer appointments and it felt…

Well, it felt nice.

To have the commander outside the room, waiting on him.

A form for security healer Mira had said, though she expected Obi-Wan not to rely on the bond to keep going. Understandable, being too reliant on a bond could be very dangerous.

But right now… Obi-Wan was happy as Cody came to his side and walked beside him, the soft brush of Cody’s concern touching Obi-Wan through their bond. “You feel tired.” Cody murmured, watching him closely.

Brushing their arms together, dodging a healer in the hurry, Obi-Wan let out a small sigh. “A tad, Healer Mira wanted to speak about some of my… repressed younger memories along with some of the stuff that happened while I was caught.” He shrugged a tad, grateful Cody didn’t move away from his touch.

Touch was hard now, so the few times he managed to initiate it on his own was… well, treasured times now.

He knew that was why Cody opted to wear the officer uniform more than the armor, realizing that Obi-Wan needed the security that came with warm touch and not cold armor.

“I see…” Cody focused on walking for a bit, the two moving along steadily. “…General Skywalker is rather upset.” The commander suddenly stated.

Obi-Wan blinked at that, glancing at him. “Anakin?” He puzzled. He knew the other went out again to the Rotunda, something about an invitation.

He assumed it had to do with Padme but, maybe not?

“He was cursing the Chancellor.” Cody continued staring forward as he reported to Obi-Wan.

Even more confused, Obi-Wan wondered how Cody knew it before deciding it was likely the Coruscant Guards at the Rotunda that had reported to him. But why was Anakin angry at the Chancellor again?

He knew that apparently the Chancellor had tried to lie to Anakin about the mission Obi-Wan had been caught on, something about not being able to help supposedly, but what had the old goat done now?

‘Should I ask? Anakin is already worried about me and he has said he wants me to focus on healing’ Obi-Wan frowned a tad before sighing out loud and shaking his head.

He was too tired for these things right now, he’d think about it later, after he had a rest. Maybe after he had visited the other kids that were settling into the temple in different spots.

Quite a few of them were enjoying working in the gardens from what Obi-Wan had heard from them and some were looking at the Halls with curiosity and interest. After all, you didn’t have to be a Jedi to be a medic or a gardener and there was no way the temple was showing these injured souls out after all they had gone through.

“Hey… its alright,” Cody rested his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, smiling worriedly at him. “Rex told me that General Skywalker went to the General Windu, whatever it is, if its important, they’ll tell you.” He murmured soothingly.

Letting out a small hum at that, Obi-Wan nodded slowly, his frown easing a bit. “You’re right… Anakin’s been very mature lately about things,” Obi-Wan pretended not to notice how Cody’s expression tightened at that, both knowing that the incident with Obi-Wan was what had done it. “If its important, he’ll tell me,” He sighed a tad. “I’m just… tired I guess.” He confessed as they made their way down the hallway towards the closest elevators.

Cody let out a small hum at the answer, thumb gently rubbing at the tight muscle of Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Maybe…” He hesitated a tad, swallowing thickly when Obi-Wan glanced at him. “Maybe you’d like to… meditate with me?” He questioned, voice a tad shy, his cheeks flushing slightly.

Stepping into an available elevator, Obi-Wan stared at his commander with surprise but also joy at the unexpected offer.

It was the first time since they formed the bond and set up their shields that Cody had offered to meditate with him.

It wasn’t the commander’s favorite activity, the man was an active person and sitting still…

But he was willing to do so for Obi-Wan.

He couldn’t help but smile at that and lean into the others side. “I think I’d like that Cody. I’d like that quite a bit.” Obi-Wan stated softly, letting out a low noise as the elevator stopped to admit two knights, nodding to them in greeting.

The two nodded in return but recognized that Obi-Wan didn’t want to speak, quietly speaking together instead. Cody just gently squeezed Obi-Wan’s shoulder, still flushed but smiling softly in happiness.

The thought of Anakin and his anger was put out of Obi-Wan’s mind, the man focusing on Cody instead and the shared meditation they’d were going to have.

Need for touch, is Boba and Din brothers now? father and son? I mean, they are almost the same age but Boba is clearly out to adopt the other in some way.

Posted on av swmoddy

Watching closely as the room cleared out after being dismissed, Boba let out a tired breath and then pulled his helmet off, setting it on the arm Fennec normally sat on as he ran his hand over his sweaty scalp. “Karking assholes.” He grumbled quietly.

Fennec shot him a slight smirk and closed the door tightly behind her, ensuring privacy.

Dealing with the gangs on Tatooine was proving to be difficult, especially the hutt implants and the ones involved with slavery.

But Boba was also steadily building out his own group, a lot of old friends had come when they heard Boba had taken over and some new ones had joined him. Especially former slaves.

The former gladiator ones were really useful as guards.

Could be trusted too, as most of them were beyond grateful for Boba freeing them.

Most of them were alphas too, though a few of them had been castrated to make them more… manageable. Boba knew it was a practice slavers used but honestly, it was barbaric.

It was one of the reasons Boba had abolished slavery on Tatooine, even if it gained him more enemies.

There was a small thump against his knee, bringing Boba out of his thoughts and he let out a soft noise as he took in Din sitting on the dais, his head resting against Boba’s knee. “Hey… you okay?” He rumbled, reaching out to gently run his thumb under the helmet and kute, feeling sweaty skin.

Din’s pulse was steady and he nodded but his skin was very sweaty.

‘Just tired potentially.’ Boba shifted and reached down, pulling the other up and into his lap, listening at the scrapes of beskar against beskar. “Its alright vod’ika. You can relax, everyone’s been shown out.” Boba rumbled at the omega.

Din shifted a bit then slowly reached up and pulled his helmet off, settling it in his lap as he pressed his face to Boba’s neck, huffing in his scent.

Din had been doing that more often lately, taking comfort in Boba’s scent as they built their packbond.

It was… nice.

Pleasing in a way Boba would claim, to be needed and trusted by Din after everything the other had gone through. Soothed some long abandoned instinct in Boba.

The fact that he took his helmet off in front of Boba was also an honor.

The unique way Din and Paz covert followed the resol’nare wasn’t something Boba had ever encountered from any other mandalorian he had meet, it certainly did not fit with the one his father had tried to teach him.

Boba would almost call it a cult but that wasn’t quite right either, regardless what Kryze had called it to Din. A cult was generally something lead by a charismatic leader and from what Din and Paz had admitted, there was no clear leader.

Just a Goran that ensured supplies were distributed and armor created.

Technically though, a cult could also be defined by adhering to an ideology admittedly, but if that was the base for it, then all mandalorians were cults. The only thing that differed Din and Paz from others were the fact that they were not to remove their helmets.

That could have been a warped safety precaution that had become tradition if Boba thought about it.

Regardless, there were no prayers, sacrifices, offerings outside of supplying the covert, competitions or anything like that. It wasn’t a cult by the true definitions of it, just survival of a group of people that were being slaughtered by the Empire.

Regardless, things were different now, both Din and Paz were struggling to make their own lives now as no survivors had yet to find them.

Going by what Din had found when he returned to Nevarro…

Well, neither expected survivors if they were honest and it broke Boba’s heart to see Din so sad and guilty for what he had brought to their covert. Paz had quickly disabused him of that notion, the covert had chosen to reveal themselves, Din had not asked. But emotions were a tricky thing and Boba knew that.

Nuzzling slowly at his vod’ika, Boba purred softly for him. “It will be alright. You’re here and I’m here and Paz is here, we’ll help you.” He promised softly as Din pressed into his throat.

It was one of the reasons he hadn’t thrown the alpha on his ass.

He was good for Din, their heartbroken Din.

‘The moment he fucks up, I’m fucking him up.’ Boba nosed gently at Din’s curly hair, noting how long it was getting.

Din didn’t answer, simply pressed himself into Boba’s broader if shorter frame.

‘Just give him time… we have all the time in the world for this.’ Boba pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

Vod’ika = little brother

Goran = Armorer

Holy shit JANGO. Distant pain Jango’s alive!? I mean, not injured clearly by the tech he has at the throat but still, I’m so excited what comes now.

Posted on av swmoddy

Setting the crate down, Jango smiled at his son as Boba came rushing down the ramp Slave 1, quickly checking his father for injuries. Ever since that fateful day on Geonosis, Boba had become rather protective of his buir and had not wanted to leave him alone for any missions.

Not that it was a hardship, not really, Boba was skilled but going into a clone camp…

Well, he would have stuck out and Boba realized it.

Didn’t mean he hadn’t worried and that was why Jango allowed the pat down, despite just wanting to load up the crate and get out of the damn body glove. He had already ditched the armor but he hadn’t wanted to run around nude. “I’m fine Boba, no one noticed me.” He soothed quietly, inwardly keeping his uncertainties to himself.

He actually wasn’t sure about that, even as Boba grumbled slightly and glared up at him with that adorable pout he had yet to grow out of.

While leaving the camp, he had felt like someone was following him, felt eyes in the back of his neck but…

Well, he hadn’t seen anyone, every clone around him rushing around doing their own things and the Jedi were all busy.

Well, except for Kenobi, he hadn’t seen him at all except for in passing when the man had entered his tent with his dragon around his neck, two black and silver painted clones following him. A bit strange honestly, they were the only two with black and silver on them at all, all the others had blue and yellow or completely bare armor but Jango had no interest in Jedi.

“We should leave then, we got enough supplies to head for the next system.” Boba spoke up, huffing a tad before bending and picking up the crate before Jango could, a smile crossing his lips.

Opening his mouth, Jango was about to answer when the trees rustled at a breeze… but it was the voice that spoke up that stopped both Fett’s in their tracks.

“Well, hello there,” A posh drawl echoed and Jango turned on his heel, firing in the direction of the voice on auto pilot. The blast echoed into the trees but there was no cry of pain, only a low chuckle. “Ah, I can throw my voice, so you won’t be able to hit me by shooting at my voice.” The voice continued, suddenly on the opposite side of the camp.

Jango gritted his teeth at that, pushing his son behind his back. “Come out.” He snarled.

The same voice chuckled again. “Admittedly, when I noticed what I thought was a rat in camp, I had to wonder,” The voice continued, Jango grinding his teeth hard with his blaster aimed at the trees. He couldn’t lower his guard even if he couldn’t see the person. “But to find out the rat was Jango Fett himself… well, it seems like I just came across a golden opportunity, oh Mand’alor.”

Jango froze.

He hadn’t been called that in years, decades even.

Not even the few Haat Mando’ade survivors he could find to recruit as trainers for the clones had called him that, mostly on Jango’s own wishes.

Now a Coruscantian High accented voice called him it.

‘…It has to be Kenobi. He’s the only one it could be, that could have followed me without a trace and has that kind of accent.’ Jango was sweating inside his body glove, the prosthetic of his throat working hard as he swallowed. “…There is no Mand’alor.” Jango answered instead, levering his blaster higher when he heard a small rustle.

There was an agreeing hum. “No… there is not. There’s a Duchess… did you know I was on Mandalore during the civil war and succession crisis?” It was Kenobi for sure then, though Jango’s brows raised a bit at learning he had been there.

But he didn’t say anything, simply kept Boba behind him as the breeze rustled the trees of the clearing again.

“I’ll take your silence as a no, but I was. The Republic sent Jedi to protect the Kryze you see, finding them the better alternative,” Scorn was dripping of Kenobi’s voice and Jango blinked, thoughts pausing slightly. “It was, compared to the Kyr’tsad of course, but it wasn’t what the people wanted. But between a despot pacifist and a murderous tyrant, what could they do…”

It was like lighting from clear sky. “You… don’t like Kryze.” He stated numbly.

The Jedi didn’t like Kryze, a figurehead for peace, someone he clearly knew by the way he was talking. He must have even personally guarded her, Jango knew there was a rumor about the Duchess and a Jedi.

But to call her a despot…

There was a loud snort in answer. “Satine is a woman of her words and her convictions, she’s strong in those… but if you aren’t willing to pick up a weapon to defend, to proclaim neutrality when others suffer, then I have no regards for them.” Kenobi stated strongly.

Numbly, Jango’s blaster slowly sunk and he glanced down at Boba behind his back, large brown eyes looking back up at him worriedly, clearly remembering the last time they encountered Jedi. “…What do you want?” Jango asked.

Kenobi could have stopped him at any moment if the theft of supplies was important.

Instead he had followed Jango, had made no move or reference to the stolen goods, outside of calling Jango a rat.

Away from the other clones, away from the other Jedi, away from camp.

There was a long pause before there was a rustle and Kenobi dropped from the trees, landing smoothly in the opening of the trees Jango himself had entered. Cool green eyes looked calculating and considerably at Jango, as if dissecting him.

Though, Jango was doing the same back.

His feathered dragon was wrapped around the Jedi’s neck, peering at Jango with curious wide eyes. The man’s hair was up in the faux mohawk with his helix piercing on display he had seen earlier and he was sporting the sleeveless black shirt and grey leggings that went with his black boots.

His lightsaber was on his belt.

The weapon was in full view but not in his hands.

Not a danger yet even if the man in front of him was extremely capable and extremely dangerous.

Kenobi placed his index finger to his chin and his thumb below it, rubbing lightly. “…I think that for now, I simply want a chat Jango Fett.” He stated before reaching for his saber.

Jango tensed only to jerk to when Kenobi threw his saber at him, catching the hilt of silver and black by reflex more than anything.

Kenobi didn’t need his saber to kill… but he had thrown it into Jango’s hands.

A gesture of good will?

Jango slowly looked at him, looked at Boba behind him again then back to the Jedi. “…Alright, come inside, we can speak over shig.” He settled on, watching as a slow but satisfied smile crossed the others lips.

Like a cat that got the cream and the canary.

dangerousgalaxy. The senate is trying to use the clones the same way they use the Jedi now? That isn’t going to go over well. If they weren’t already angry enough to do something, they would be now. The guard is probably getting the worst of it, being the most visible to the senate, and the more famous units. How is Fox doing with this news? What about Rex and Bly?

Posted on av swmoddy

Lowering his pad slowly, Cody stared at Helix, wondering tiredly how much information like this he could handle before his heart burst. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” He stated quietly.

“Chlamydia,” Helix repeated, sounding equally tired. “I got ping in my reports today, got confused for a moment since none of the other medics had logged anything about the vode but then… I noticed it was from the temple.” He rubbed his hand tiredly over his face.

Sitting back in his chair, Cody ran his hand over his face too.

Obi-Wan had chlamydia, his stint at the Rotunda had left even more marks than the visible ones. “…So that’s why I haven’t heard from him or seen him.” He whispered quietly, wishing more than ever that he could just… take a break.

But he couldn’t.

They were SO close.

So close to their goal, everything was in position, all the troopers on Coruscant had gone through the nanobot treatment and the ‘blanket’ was almost done.

When their operation went down, the slicers of the troopers were going to be set in motion, making it a blackout for all information to and from Coruscant, to avoid any senators sending of information or calling for aid.

Or for certain people to activate the clone chips of those that had yet to have it deactivated.

It didn’t change his desire to be able to take a break and go see Obi-Wan though, sit with him, have tea maybe.

‘Tea and hot scones… when this is all done… when… when the coup d’etat is done…’ Cody turned his head to look longingly at one of the floating gardens of Coruscant. Wrapped in a little protective bubble, clean and fresh with trees and plants and some of them even had running water.

He wanted to take Obi-Wan to one, sit with him in quiet peace, promise his Jedi safety.

Promise the entire order safety.

Sit with Obi-Wan with quiet calmness around them, fresh scones from one of Coruscant’s upper bakeries and tea and caff respectively for each of them, being able to relax for once in their damn lives.

And Cody also wanted the satisfaction of knowing he provided Obi-Wan safety. Perhaps a tad selfish of him, but his Jedi meant the world to him, to the entire 212th and Cody wanted the other to feel secure.

Especially on the planet where his home belonged.

To know that Obi-Wan could come and go without worry of being violated, of catching the eye of some sleazy Senator. That Obi-Wan could feel secure and happy that Anakin and Ahsoka was safe, that he could sit and read and not worry.

That Cody could sit with his Jedi and simply… exist.

‘…But not yet. There is still much to do before I rest and so little time.’ Cody turned his head back to Helix. “Alright, so we know why we haven’t seen our Jedi again, he’s likely resting and we know antibiotic messes with his systems,” Cody and Helix sighed together, equally fond and exasperated. “Now, has there been anymore information about the Senators that have started eyeing up troopers?” Cody returned to being the Vod’alor, being responsible and being there for the GAR.

Helix grimaced before nodding. “So far, they haven’t managed to single out a trooper, as far as we know. Fox has ensured that all of his guards are walking in groups of three or four, to prevent them being picked out by anyone with… suspect interests, but I doubt nothing has happened, there’s just too many of us and too many Senators for there to be no incident.” Helix stated grimly.

Cody had to agree to that, nodding slowly. ‘Fox must be very angry, I wouldn’t be shocked if there are more dead Senators now, he’s very protective of his boys.’

Likely, several troopers had experienced the same thing as the Jedi but were hiding it. Cody knew that Fox was trying his best to check with all his men, as were the other leaders but…

Well, unless the victims themselves stepped forward, figuring it out would be hard if a brother was hiding it.

‘But troopers wouldn’t be able to avoid medical help like Jedi do, healing using the Force and such… and vode aren’t meant to be alone. We’re raised together, train together, sleep together… die together. Its going to come out sooner or later, who has been hurt.’ It meant at the very least, no trooper had been injured as severely as the Jedi before had been.

No broken bones or large wounds but there were other ways to harm and hurt a person after all.

Cody once more glanced longingly at the floating garden closest to the barracks.

He had often felt that it was a deliberate taunt.

Placing the garden so close they could see it but knowing they weren’t allowed to enter it, not without special permission.

There were many days he wished he could go back to being just CC-2224, when the responsibilities laid heavy and hard, when the death of his own vode hurt just so much.

But in that moment… he wanted to be Cody.

To sit on the grass with a clear blue sky in the distance and Obi-Wan leaning against his side, warm and steady, his breathing slow and his heart calm.

‘…Soon.’ He reminded himself again, shaking himself slightly as he looked up at Helix standing in front of his desk. “I agree. That’s why we have to be ready. Those who have been hurt will need us, their vode, to help and care. Just as we’ve done for the Jedi. Hopefully, they’ll feel more comfortable coming forward once the Senators are dealt with or their natborn officers.” Cody stated calmly, his mind flashing to Tarkin.

Sighing, Helix nodded too before turning his head to look out Cody’s office window too. “…There’s a large, red sun setting,” He stated slowly, frowning slightly and Cody curiously peered at the setting sun too. Helix was right, it was bright red. “…The General once told me, that a red sun setting often proclaimed violence to come in many cultures.” Helix whispered, staring at the sun.

Cody tilted his head.

He wasn’t sure if he believed that, it was after all just a part of the celestial bodies with no thought of its own except for reflecting rays but…

Well, the sun wasn’t wrong.

Violence was coming for sure, Cody knew that several Senators would not be leaving the Rotunda come two days time, several would be ‘accidental’ casualties in the coup. Then there would be those that would fight, many of those would also die.

The memory of Obi-Wan’s broken body in his arms spurred Cody on and his lips pulled taut into a white, bloodless line. ‘They will all burn, I’ll make sure of that. They will rue the day they thought to touch a Jedi.’

“Ah, one more thing,” Cody returned his attention to Helix, the CMO tapping at his thigh plate slowly. “A few of the CIS Senators that we were going to take out are already deceased.” He stared seriously at Cody.

Cody cocked his brows in surprise. “Oh, natural deaths?” He wondered, a tad bitterly only to blink when Helix shook his head slowly, a smirk curling on his lips.

Only one word came from the medic. “Dooku.”

Freezing, staring at Helix, Cody breathed out. ‘…Former Jedi master, Yan Dooku… Oh.’