hurt

The clones move forward with their plan to take down the senate. Kix finds something interesting on a fellow clones brains scan that sends alarm bells ringing.- Dangerous Galaxy

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Looking up from his pad, Cody raised a brow as Wolffe entered the meeting room, watching quietly as his vod made his way over to the hidden cabinet to bring out the moonshine.

The gruff commander uncorked one, glanced at the others and then started chugging directly from the bottle, causing the rest to exchange resigned, worried looks.

This tended only to happen when Wolffe was geared up from something, generally something relating to his Jedi and with everything the troopers were figuring out about how the Senators treated them, a lot were automatically going that direction.

It didn’t get any better when Rex, with Kix in tow, also went straight for the booze, the two clicking the bottles together before chugging.

Pressing his face into his hands, letting out a deep sigh, Cody wondered if he really wanted to know before his mind reminded him that if it had to do with the Jedi, he had to know with what they were planning to do. “…Okay, what’s up?” He finally questioned after a few moments of the two drinking.

Poor Kix looked lost and a bit disapproving at how his captain and the commander was chugging alcohol but the medic instantly turned to Cody at the question. “We have biochips in our heads.” He announced darkly.

Pausing, Cody stared at him before sighing deeply and getting to his feet, moving over to Wolffe and Rex, holding out his hand while mentally noting that he hoped someone refilled the secret cabinet, it was getting a tad empty.

Rex quietly handed over one of the blank bottles and watched Cody chug from it. “Okay, we’ll talk about that after the meeting. Wolffe?” He turned to his vod, ignoring the shifting holos behind him of the other commanders and captains.

“General Plo let it slip that one of the CIS senators once broke his arm.” Wolffe grumbled, glaring at Cody.

Freezing, bottle of moonshine at his lips, Cody’s mind suddenly kicked into high gear.

Of course, of karking course.

The CIS had Senators in the Rotunda once too.

Karking hell.

Of course they too had access to the Jedi at some point.

Slowly he lowered his bottle, letting a deep breath out through his nose. “You get the name from the General?” He questioned, sighing quietly when Wolffe nodded. “Good, I’ll bring the issue up with Senator Amidala when I meet with her again, get some names… I know she has a big black book, actual book, with names for us.” He murmured tiredly.

He ignored Rex and Wolffe exchanging surprised looks. Padme had explained that she kept the black book with her at all times and inserted names as she either heard from the grape wine or saw for herself that someone hurt the Jedi.

A book, made of paper, after all could not be hacked and a book, simply filled with a random amount of names could mean anything. After all, the Senator was smart enough not to fill in the reason on the paper why those particular names were in it.

Things were starting to line up now, three more weeks and they’d take the Senate and Cody’s gut bubbled a bit with the thought of it.

Troopers were already cautiously being rerouted towards Coruscant, quite a bit of slicing around the natborns required to not let them get suspicious. Hell, Cody had even managed to get Tarkin’s battalion rerouted to Coruscant.

He was one of the natborns that would be a casualty of the coup. Cody did not want a man that disregarded his vode as Tarkin around for the aftermath.

They wouldn’t strictly need the superior numbers, looking at it from a logical point. Most of the Senators had no task force of their own and couldn’t fight worth shit but a voice, deep in Cody’s head, wanted more trooper feet on Coruscant.

Something deep in his mind.

Quietly, he turned his head towards Kix, watching the other quietly converse with Fox. That same little voice whispered that he now knew why he wanted the troopers on Coruscant.

Biochips were things slavers used, he had learned about them after Zygerria.

They were normally implanted into a slave with trigger words, trigger orders.

It could make a normally docile person suddenly turn into a violent maniac with the correct phrase or make someone that constantly fought kneel, the right words and suddenly a person might drop to their knees without understanding why.

Makers, sometimes they didn’t even realize that the order was wrong, that it wasn’t something they’d normally do.

A chill went up Cody’s back at the thought of being forced to do something so ingrained against his own moral code it made him wonder…

The nightmares.

Cody’s hand went tight on the bottle, his eyes widening as the thought occurred to him.

The GAR wide nightmare, the nightmare every member of the entire GAR experienced at least once a week if not more.

The nightmares of murdering their own Jedi, even the young ones.

Could it be that?

He knew, from working closely with Obi-Wan, that the question of the clones creation had always been a weird, blurry spot. The idea of Dooku ordering clones for the Jedi, along with the Jedi he had been working with, always having had big question marks with it, but what if it was so simple as these biochips.

What if the creation of the clone army, what if the nightmares and these biochips were related?

Cody suddenly felt very sick, his own dreams of turning his blaster on Obi-Wan, surfacing hard and fast and he wanted to vomit even as he slowly made his way to his seat, sitting down heavily as he let the implication sink in.

If he was right…

Ka’ra.

There were so many troopers, so many of them on Coruscant at every hour of every day.

If the troopers marched on the temple, their wills wiped, with simply the order of killing every Jedi…

It be a massacre.

Would the chip even make a distinction between the healthy that could fight or the young and the impaired?

Or would they be blasting down every knight, master, padawan, youngling and bed bound Jedi?

The alcohol bubbled in his stomach and Cody felt saliva pool in his mouth, heard Rex ask quietly if he was okay, heard Fox stand as Kix was making his way around the table towards him.

But his mind was caught on Obi-Wan, the sight of his smiling face as Cody gave his saber back, the warm glow of the Jedi’s eyes before his mind twisted the image, Obi-Wan’s eyes wide and full of shock, his own saber piercing his chest, Cody holding the hilt.

Cody turned to the side, just as Kix touched his shoulder and promptly threw up all.

Din survives an explosion but there is permanent consequences?

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Shuddering as he stumbled his way to the cockpit of his loaned ship, Din tried to keep steady even as his vision swam and the pain threatened to down him.

He had miscalculated his bounty, so desperate to not be brought and suffer the consequences for her actions in that she had opted to detonate her own ship than to let Din take her in.

His armor had thankfully taken the brunt of the shock wave and even the heat that had come at him, even as his head was rattled by the force of it all but unfortunately his armor had not taken everything.

Several pieces of durasteel had sunk into his body, some smaller pieces in his left thigh and arm where the armor did not cover.

But the worst of it was in his side, about the width of his hand and the length of his forearm, sticking out from where Din had clamped his hand to the area and Din could feel the shrapnel burn with every breath he took and every step he made, the piece of warped metal sticking out of his side burning as Din futilely tried to press keep himself awake with the pain alone despite loosing blood, hoping to Ka’ra that he wasn’t cutting himself open internally with each step.

He didn’t dare try remove anything though, even as he wobbled with pain all the way to the ship Boba had loaned him.

His feet scruffing over the durasteel of the ramp as he made his way up, Din could only imagine the blood that would pour out if he tried. Removing it faced the risk of bleeding out for sure compared to the blood he had already lost, his supplies weren’t that waste and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to actually do enough for himself to ensure he survived.

Din had only one option, to activate the encrypted distress signals he had loaded up into the ship’s mainframe.

Well, one of them had been uploaded for him by Boba Fett honestly, the man scowling up at him as he told him that if Din was in problem, he was to activate the distress signal and Fett would aid him. Din half suspected that the signal would also activate if the ship wasn’t moved in too long but he hadn’t asked the other bounty hunter. He hadn’t wanted to question the man when he had been generous enough to lend Din a ship and gave him work, gave him purpose after Grogu went with the Jedi.

Din had been adrift, unsure and unmoored and Boba had been there to offer him work, work Din was familiar with on a planet he actually knew. Some might say that Tatooine was a dustball with nothing to show for it but Din enjoyed the warmth of it as long as he stayed out of the hottest part of the suns.

Shand also made for a decent drinking partner, the woman willing to sit there, listen and drink her alcohol as Din let himself empty out all the confusing and painful things left behind when Grogu was gone, never judging Din for doing what he thought was best even if she might not agree.

Honestly, Din wasn’t sure what kind of opinion she had on Jedi, he knew Boba at the very least disliked them if not outright hated them.

Din didn’t judge him for that, Boba had history, that much he knew and Boba’s past was his own thing. Din was in the other man’s debt, not only had he aided Din to rescue Grogu, he had also afterward given him purpose, equipped him and even loaned him a ship.

At this point, Din owed the man much more than he could ever really repay, even if the other bounty hunter and King of Tatooine had grumbled and told him that there was no debt before quickly changing the subject and lining up work for Din, work Din was more than happy to take pro bono.

The other, the one Din had uploaded, was the covert old distress signal.

It had been standard practice, the beroya was the breadwinner of the covert, the one to leave to bring in goods and credits.

But a single mandalorian against the galaxy… if the beroya ended up in problems they couldn’t solve on their own, the distress signal could be activated to summon backup or aid depending on what the emergency was.

Din wasn’t even sure if that particular distress signal would bring anyone to him, but he had to try.

He wasn’t sure how long he could survive with the shrapnel inside of him and Fett was on Tatooine with Shand in the palace, it was at least a four day trip, potentially five depending on the hyperlanes and if there was a planetary storm it could take another day before whatever rescue Fett sent to land.

If anyone from the covert was closer and responded to the signal…

Maybe, in the deep recesses of Din’s mind, he was also hopeful.

Hoping that someone had survived.

Sinking into the pilot chair with a cry of pain, feeling something shift inside of him, Din swallowed thickly and wrapped his arm more tightly around his side, dazedly looking at the dashboard for what felt like hours but must have been minutes, feeling unconsciousness threatening.

He couldn’t let that happen though, not yet, if he didn’t summon help first, he was going to die for sure if it wasn’t already too late.

Swallowing thickly again, Din pulled himself forward with a grunt as his gut felt like it was squishing around inside of him, shakily touching the controls and buttons.

He sent of two alerts and had mind enough to close down the ship and activate its defenses before he let himself sink back into the chair, hoping that one of the two signals would be answered.

The signals sent, Din let himself slowly but steadily sink into the darkness that is waiting on him ever since he got thrown across the muddy ground outside and had shrapnel embedded into his side. If he moves, he will make himself worse, especially in his shaky condition and therefore he has only one option now. To wait, wait and hope someone comes.

His last conscious thought is to send a prayer to the maker that someone will come for him. Because at this point, Din is quite thoroughly helpless as he slumps in the chair.

Din needs some comfort in Touch. Paz will help, right?

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The other’s body feels so small under him.

Its not that Din really is small but compared to Paz, he has always been smaller and he’s making himself smaller in this moment as he’s quivering, legs twitching and his breathing hitched as he shudders through half stifled sobs into the sheets.

His adiik is gone.

When the Armorer had contacted Paz, given him Din trajectory, Paz hadn’t been sure what to think. After Nevarro, after being exposed, after Din had stolen the adiik and the covert exposing themselves so obviously, they all fled with only a smaller guard kept behind to ensure the Imperials wouldn’t find the others.

A suicide mission, the people who took it had known that the likelihood of surviving it was smaller than a porg’s asshole.

Ships, normally stashed away in hidden caves and unused areas, were used to flee into the stars, some taking the foundlings and others going alone, everyone leaving their own trail or extinguishing them depending on if they were leading the Imperial trackers after them or trying to hide the younglings.

After all, they’d rather have the remains of the Empire tracing after the lone warriors and not the foundlings. The Armorer had stayed, everyone knew she would have, to try and scavenge what remained and try to keep the beskar in their hands as best she could.

It had been months and in all those months, trying cautiously to make contact with other mandalorians without attracting attention and surviving, Paz had spent the months thinking about Din and the quiet moments in the alcove, with of Din’s shaking body tucked in his lap, the tired grumble through the vocoder and the tiny traces of scent Paz had caught in the moment.

Paz had thought about the moments later, the way the soured scent had turned even softer with the adiik in his arms, the way Din’s arms had been protectively wrapped around the foundling that night.

The way it had looked right.

And now that foundling was gone once more.

There was a reason, a reason even Paz could understand, but for an omega, that had bonded to their child, to give them up despite knowing it was for their own protection…

It hurt.

Din was hurting so much when Paz had finally managed to track the other down on Slave 1.

He had barely noticed when Fett and the others had leveled blasters his way when he had come tearing over Nevarro’s sand, hadn’t cared as he had called for the stumbling man standing in the sun.

Honestly, it was good Din had friends, friends willing to shoot a beskar covered infantryman.

He had needed someone, especially after the covert was destroyed and they had all fled to each their corner of the galaxy.

Maybe they would have shot Paz if Din hadn’t recognized and been conscious enough to call Paz name back, Fett visibly twitching at the name Vizla but holstering his blaster still, the group watching as Paz pulled Din into his arms and the omega just folded against his chest.

Paz hadn’t cared at the time how close he had gotten to being shot, just so relieved to see Din at all, he had found the remains of the Razor Crest and at the time he had thought…

He had thought…

Dune had explained, Din leaning exhaustively against Paz chest, hands holding weakly onto the cuirasse. Paz couldn’t blame him, after everything he had gone through, from his the adiik being abducted, the hunt for information, to Gideon to the Jedi coming, ensuring their survival.

Only to return empty handed in the end.

No adiik.

A wound cutting deep and hard.

Karga had set them up with a place, the beta was fond of Din apparently and had understood that Din needed space, the scent of distressed omega curling around everyone as Din had run out of scent blockers with the destruction of the Crest and Fett had none, the alpha needing none himself and Shand being a beta herself.

It was a decent space, one where Paz took care of Din, carefully removing all his armor except the helmet before removing his own armor, guiding Din into his side as they sat on the bed.

Without the armor, Din was even smaller, just like that time in the alcove and the longer he sat against Paz, the more his body shook until low, hitched noises escaped him.

Paz wasn’t the others alpha, not really for all that he wanted but he was a packmate, despite them not bonding as deep as they should.

And with his heart in his stomach, shattering at every hitched sound, he had taken a chance and gently pressed Din down on the bed, covering the other up with his own body.

Just hoping, hoping he was providing some comfort as he eased himself to cover up Din as best he could.

A physiological thing, Paz acting like a weighted blanket with pheromones as he tried to sooth and with the way Din had latched onto his kute, Paz knew that at the very least Din wanted him to stay.

But to listen to him sob under his helmet, pressing his own to the back of Din’s as he shook and twitched, it was breaking Paz soul and the alpha in him whined helplessly.

He wanted to help but could do nothing more but hold the other, crooning quietly as Din cried and cried and cried for a adiik he had given away.

Paz had never felt so useless and so helpless as in this moment.

Brushing his hand along Din’s side, as if gentling an animal, Paz crooned deeply. “I’m here Din. I’m here.” He whispered.

It was the only thing he could offer the omega, he couldn’t offer that things would be alright, he couldn’t offer to get the kid, he couldn’t offer anything but himself. But Manda, if it helped, then that was what he’d give.

All of himself.

He might have imagined it, but Din’s noises seemed to have grown slightly quieter as Din tucked himself even more under Paz body, his shaking not as severe.

Maybe he wasn’t as useless as he feared.

DangerousGalaxy- please tell me obi gets a hug or at elast some comfort after what happened. How does Anakin reatc to seeing his best friend beaten to a litteral pulp?

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Pressing their foreheads together, Anakin wished he knew what to say, what to do as Obi-Wan shivered against him despite the warmth of their quarters wrapping around them.

Their quarters were always kept slightly warmer than the average temperature of the temple, Anakin’s desert upbringing leaving its mark to the point he preferred it warmer. Obi-Wan had never had an issue with it, wearing less layers inside their quarters if it got hot and therefore their quarters were kept nice and toasty for Anakin’s sake.

But now he was shivering, the two standing in the brightly lit living room together by the couch, pressed together for comfort since he was delivered to the temple by the commander.

You’d think after all these years, first as a padawan and then later as a knight and fellow victim, Anakin would know what to say to the other when things got bad.

But then again, no one really knew how to cope with how badly the Senators treated them, the truth of what was going on behind closed doors.

The Jedi order tried of course, they had healers and mind healers specializing in the trauma and aftermath of what was happening to them and continued happening and some Jedi saw those healers in particular more often than others.

There was a time period that Obi-Wan saw those healers in particular almost once a week, at the height of his popularity.

He didn’t see them now, mostly due to the war making it hard on Obi-Wan to keep appointments and talking through the issues.

Which was why Anakin simply kept his arms loosely wrapped around his master’s shoulders, their foreheads pressed together. Obi-Wan’s arms on the other hand was tightly wrapped around Anakin’s body, his fists clenched into the back of his tunic.

He hated this.

Being so helpless in the face of the pain all Jedi went through, from padawan’s to knights and to masters.

But especially Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, who was so popular.

At the very least Ahsoka was a padawan, she couldn’t be requested, not yet and Anakin had done his best to shield her, though he had taken notice of several Senator watching her. Sentient that Anakin would make sure were gone before she became twenty.

Well, as long as the troopers didn’t beat him to the punch.

He’d been so worried when the other didn’t come home, had spent hours pacing, at his wits end when he remembered that Cody would help, Cody would be more than willing to help.

Every Jedi knew that the troopers were aware of what were going on, some less or more happy about it.

Anakin knew that many Jedi felt helpless and ashamed, weak in the eyes of those they were suppose to lead in war.

Others however were grateful as the troopers stepped in to help and protect them, telling lies to make them busy when they were requested.

It had not escaped the Order that certain Senate members were dying, some from ‘natural’ deaths seemingly and others the victim of a supposed serial killer, some of them very vicious deaths as this supposed serial killer seemed to be of a sadistic type.

The Coruscant Guards along with the Judaical were apparently investigating it but so far whoever was murdering Senate members were proving to be very clever about it.

Of course, seeing as it was murderers and not just one and they were internal to the case, it was no wonder that the Judaical weren’t making progress.

Anakin half suspected that any of the Judaical that did make progress were potentially silenced in some way.

They, the adults of the Jedi order that was, all knew the truth though, every time it got brought up, every Jedi exchanged knowing looks.

Kark, Anakin half suspected that even Ahsoka and a few of her friends had started figuring it out, mostly due to her knowing Obi-Wan’s schedule and knew he had been with some of those Senators prior to their death.

But they would never reveal the truth about what was really going on, not to the karking Senate, who sent them to Sith hells on the regular and many of them exposing them to it in their offices. No, the Jedi’s inability to say no didn’t mean that they had to be honest with the snakes in the Senate.

So, they kept the secret, leaned into the embraces of the troopers and trusted them where they couldn’t trust the majority of the Senate.

Only a few were willing to really stick up for a reformation on the way Jedi answered to the Senate and it wasn’t enough to make a true change, especially as many of those that were willing to stick up for them were often mid or outer core planets.

The core planets were unfortunately chalk full of Senators that felt quite content to abuse the Jedi’s inability to say no.

People like the one that had Obi-Wan this night.

The fact that there were still marks left on Obi-Wan, the faintest trace of swelling and a limp to his step…

It told Anakin everything he needed to know, that Obi-Wan’s night had been rough and difficult when even Helix couldn’t help him fully and Cody couldn’t deliver a wholly hale Obi-Wan back.

Rocking the two slowly from side to side, Anakin shifted his hands slowly to rub at the others back, feeling the other relax into the touch. “I-”

“No.” Obi-Wan shook his head as he interrupted, breath hitching a bit, the older man clenching his eyes shut as he tightened his grip almost painfully on Anakin.

The reaction made Anakin swallow thickly before he made a soft noise of agreement.

Obi-Wan didn’t want to talk about it, not now, maybe not in a long time and Anakin would respect that, sooner or later Obi-Wan might talk with him about it but for now, he needed more time to process what had happened.

‘My poor, poor master,’ Anakin’s eyes watered, swallowing thickly once more before closing his eyes too, simply standing with his arms around Obi-Wan, rocking slowly, the two wrapping each others in the safety of each others Force signature. ‘I can’t do this much more, please… someone, anyone… please. I can’t do this.’

Khybertears- please tell me Anakin gets to give his brother a hug

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Panting heavily as he held onto the handles, arms trembling, Obi-Wan looked up at Anakin, the other standing in front of him with a nervous smile, arms at the ready to catch him. “This… karking… sucks.” Obi-Wan hissed, shuddering at a spasm of pain up his thighs.

“You are allowed to stop Master Kenobi,” The healer observing suddenly spoke up, watching from the side, her lekku’s curling nervously for all the serenity in her voice.

Clearly she expected Obi-Wan to push further than he should and frankly, that wasn’t a faulty estimation of his character if you asked Anakin.

Grunting, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple and down into his lose tunic, Obi-Wan paused when Anakin touched his shoulder. “Obi-Wan, you only just got your legs attached less than a week ago. This is progress, extreme progress, don’t give yourself a setback because you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

Obi-Wan stared at him and for a minute, Anakin wondered if he had offended his old master.

Then Obi-Wan head dropped a bit, the man letting out a tired sigh as he straightened as best he could. “Help me into my chair Anakin, please?” He whispered.

Relieved, Anakin stepped closer and aided the older man into holding onto him instead, Obi-Wan’s arm up over his shoulder and Anakin’s down around his waist.

Over his head, he and the healer exchanged relieved glances even as Obi-Wan was slowly helped into the chair by Anakin, the redhead letting out a tired and pained grunt as he sat down heavily. “Fucking…” He cursed quietly, the words trailing off as he just let his head tilt back, closing his glowing eyes, his mech feet thumping into the.

Peering down at the other, Anakin smiled sadly before shaking his head when the healer reached for the hypo full of painkiller.

She paused, her lips pursing but she waited.

The healer stopped in her tracks, Anakin knelt down, touching the top of Obi-Wan’s thighs in a gentle motion, smiling up at the other.

He got a smile in return, Obi-Wan’s freckles brightening in with genuine happiness. “I know they make you feel fussy but how about you have some painkillers?” Anakin questioned quietly, inwardly mourning at the dimming of the others freckles but knowing it was coming all the same.

Glancing towards the healer, Obi-Wan frowned as he wiped away the sweat on his face, the dark rings around his armpits clearly visible in his beige tunic. “…I…” He hesitated.

Rubbing slowly at the others thighs with his flesh hand, Anakin raised his mech arm. “There’s no shame in admitting you need them.” He stated seriously, watching Obi-Wan’s glowing eyes flicker to the visible mecho arm.

Anakin had done it on purpose.

Since Obi-Wan had decided to accept new legs, since he had started therapy to learn walking with them, Anakin had started wearing his glove less. Because he knew his old master, how stubborn he could be, how far he’d push himself, how little he wanted to be a ‘burden.’

Yes, Anakin Skywalker knew this part of Obi-Wan Kenobi quite well and he despised it, having often come home from lessons to find a sick Obi-Wan collapsed on the couch.

So he wore his glove less as a point, to force Obi-Wan to confront that Anakin at least knew some of the pain and some of the struggles.

Just so he could make sure Obi-Wan took care of himself, took his painkillers, reminded him that not going forward speedily wasn’t a failure. All the things Obi-Wan had reminded Anakin when he got his arm.

“There’s no shame in it Obi-Wan,” Anakin reiterated. “No shame for me and no shame for you.” He whispered softly as he squeezed the top of the others thigh.

“No fair, using my own words against me.” Obi-Wan whispered back, but he was smiling faintly.

Snorting softly, Anakin shifted up on one knee, leaning up to hug the other, ignoring the wetness and the sour smell of sweat on the others skin. “I think you’re rather proud of me doing it.” He teased softly, smiling when he felt a soft chuckle against his shoulder, felt the crystal of his lightsaber vibrate with its creator’s amusement.

“Maybe. But then again,” Obi-Wan’s hand came up to cup the back of Anakin’s head and Anakin felt a lump in his throat at the next words, his heart fluttering in quiet joy. “I’m always proud of you my dear.”

Paz! Get your ass to Din’s side, he needs you so much in Need for touch. So saaad

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Nevarro.

The place where it all began.

Watching Cara step down the ramp to meet with Greef, Din blearily tilted his head to look around, taking in how little had changed since the last time he was there.

Sand and sun with the mid-morning heat making everyone lazy, that was all there was with a scattering of people that weren’t taking naps to avoid the worst of the sun.

He only half noticed Greef jerking to in surprise, could feel the beta’s eyes on him. Greef had after all known what Din was from the get go, he had been there when Din returned from a hunt, fresh from his presentation.

He had also been the one to give Din not only scent blockers but also suppressors.

Just long enough to keep Din stable, so he could get his own supply, gruffly stating that Din was one of his best hunters and he’d rather not have anything happen to him.

Concern hidden by his desire for value, not that Din back then had been able to see it, he had been too worried about Greef using the information somehow.

Now he knew that Greef Karga was a friend and in that moment, he had a need for friends.

His eyes landed on the statue of the IG-11, his heart jumping a bit.

Kuiil and it had been the first ones to sacrifice themselves for Grogu, the first ones who had died for him to protect him as far as Din knew.

But knowing how old Grogu was, there was a large chance that they had not been the first.

They were the first since Grogu became his ward.

The ward he had to give away, the foundling that had become…

His scent must have twisted, because suddenly Boba was there, pressing their arms together as he rumbled to him.

His maybe packmate.

Boba and Shand were going to Tatooine, they had only stopped in Nevarro to drop Cara off and resupply since this was a safer place than most to them.

Mostly thanks to Cara.

There wasn’t really much for him anymore, his covert was gone, his pack was scattered if they had survived, his ship was destroyed and even his kit was now in the hands of another because Din could not protect him from the remains of the Empire.

Going with Boba, leaving behind the memories of what was here on Nevarro despite knowing he had a place in Greef bounty hunter guild… well, it sounded like the better option.

Boba was angling to overthrow what was left of the hutt cartel on Tatooine, not that the hutts were that strong thanks to the Empire.

They hadn’t let the hutts keep a strong threshold on the galaxy.

Looking at it, it was almost like the Empire had been trying to wipe out most of the other species of the galaxy unless they had some kind of use, making humanity its core. Getting rid of those that were combative, like the mandalorians and lasats and then moving on to those it thought of as scum with no worth.

‘Not that I’ve ever meet a decent hutt in my life.’ Din mused tiredly, wondering if there were decent hutts in the galaxy.

Tatooine, with the tuskens, sounded like a far better option. Maybe he could visit White Bantha, the clan he had lived with for a while, Boba respected the tuskens as much as Din did and wouldn’t mind if Din wander- “Djarin!”

A loud, familiar voice called out, almost echoing between the buildings and Din’s heart leapt to his throat from the sheer shock of hearing it.

He looked around almost spastically, eyes wide behind his visor before his eyes landed on the all too recognizable blue armor.

Paz.

It was Paz, stepping out from between two white buildings, his gait rushed and his helmet locked on Din with such focus he could almost feel the intensity of the gaze behind the visor.

Alive, Paz was alive.

A sob unwittingly escaped Din at the sight, the sound garbled to static by the vocoder of his helmet as he stepped forward on shaking legs, feeling like a newborn colt.

Unnoticed by him, Boba, Shand, Cara and Greef had leveled their weapons at Paz, only to pause when Din called back. “Vizla!” Din called out, crashing into Paz large chest, feeling those thick arms coming up around him in a familiar embrace. “Paz, Paz he’s gone. He’s gone. I gave him away. Paz.” He sobbed out, his knees giving out from under him as he clung to the others cuirass.

Paz rumbled loudly, shifting his arms around Din to support him. “Din. Din you need to calm down. Udesii, udesii beroya.” The blue armored man finally just outright lifted him.

Another time, Din would have marveled at the display of strength, another time he would have flushed and maybe squirmed.

He wasn’t a light man after all, especially not in his armor.

But that was not now as he lifted his legs to wrap around the alpha’s waist, right now he was baring his soul to his alor and maybe someone who was more. Right now he needed Paz to be both comfort and judgment, even if the latter didn’t seem to be inclined to judge anything and Din didn’t seem to be able to explain himself well.

“My kit is gone.” Din admitted weakly what he hadn’t wanted to admit before.

That Grogu had become not only his foundling but his kit, his child in all but blood.

Blood of the covenant is stronger than water of the womb.

It was something he had heard his buir say once, holding Din tightly to his chest with his chin resting on Din’s curly head and now he understood what it had meant.

Paz stiffened, his arms going almost painfully tight around Din before he crooned, deep in his chest and so loudly it rattled Din’s helmet.

But it felt good to hear and Din pressed his audial to the others cuirass, breaking down into wordless but loud crying.

The kind of crying he had not allowed himself in Boba’s den but right now, in Paz arms…

He would let himself cry over Grogu, cry over the unfairness of the galaxy, cry over his own inability to keep his pup safe.

Cry for the covert.

And maybe, somewhere in those tears, he was crying for himself and everything he had lost as Paz held him together.

Udesii = Calm down

Beroya = Bounty hunter

Alor = Captain

Buir = parent

Soooooo, Cody’s moving the time table up? Is he gonna have a meeting with the CCs and high ranking troopers on Coruscant right now to get the word out?

Posted on av swmoddy

The room was quiet except for the flickering of the comm unit, every trooper unnaturally focused on the vod in the holo.

Cody had finally called Kamino, getting in contact with Alpha. “Look,” Alpha stared down at his hands, not looking at Cody or any of the other clones as he finally spoke. “You all know that Skywalker and I didn’t have the… best of relationship while we worked together.” He grumbled at a few snorts that echoed through the meeting room.

That was putting it mildly and everyone knew it.

There was a reason why Alpha had not gone with Anakin and Rex had become his second after all. As far as the other troopers were aware, Alpha only respected two Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Shaak Ti, the only two he had personally interacted with and gained respect with by being at their side.

After escorting Obi-Wan to the temple, leaving him in a shakily smiling Anakin’s care, Cody had returned, calling together the GAR clone command to forward their plans, bringing up his suggestions on how to take out a few of them and asking Fox for suggestion on how to take out the Chancellor as their seconds took charge in the meantime.

Cody could trust Waxer to keep order while he was busy airing his ideas on how to murder the Chancellor.

Depending on when they took him out, they’d have to either make it look natural or make painful, as many wanted to after hearing how Obi-Wan and Anakin had put their trust in the man, only to be gutted.

Cody had also taken the chance to call Kamino, getting in touch with Alpha, since he had put their plans in danger by shooting Burtoni.

He wanted answers, answers he knew he wouldn’t like but he still needed them, so he knew how to proceed.

Alpha ran a hand over his face, suddenly looking exhausted in the blue light of the holo. “…Did you all know he turned twenty that first year?” He rasped out, a few troopers stilling. “That was his first year as a twenty year old Jedi, first year he was unable to say no.” He stated quietly, as if pained by the information.

Rex let out a rush of air as several vode looked at each other with surprise.

Quite a few of them remembered how reckless and angry Anakin Skywalker the padawan had been.

There were still signs of that recklessness and anger of course but it wasn’t as obvious.

But…

It suddenly made sense.

“…During the Seperatist invasion of Kamino, the first one that is,” Alpha stated, voice slow and steady. “There were three Jedi on Kamino. Shaak Ti, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker.” His voice tapered of a bit, dropping his head to stare at his hands.

In the holo, they could see him picking at the armoring on top of his hand, rubbing at the blue paint on the top. “…They stayed a while.” Rex stated in remembrance, swallowing thickly when Alpha nodded, eyes still trained on his own hands.

“Burtoni was here too, due to the invasion, she hadn’t been able to leave, I don’t remember why she was here though. All three Jedi were dodging the longnecks too, I remember them seemingly disappearing sometimes after the attack, as if they didn’t want to be found.” Alpha murmured with bitter regret in his voice.

A few winced.

No, considering the unhealthy interest the kamioan had in them, no wonder they tried to disappear when the Senator was also there.

No one said a word though, waiting on Alpha to find the words he needed to explain. “Didn’t think much of it at the time if I’m honest… and then Burtoni came looking for them, Lama Su and Ko Sai at her heels.” He gritted his teeth, the sound loud enough to be caught in the holocall, grinding slowly and painfully.

No one wanted to ask what had happened.

They could guess, based on conjecture.

The kaminoans had always been disturbingly interested in Jedi and Force sensitive, they knew that. Hell, there had even been a period where the scientists had tried to replicate Force sensitivity in some of the clones.

None of those batches had come out well.

Of course, they were unaware that there were already Force sensitive clones, it happened among them but hidden from the eyes of the demagolka as the interest was disturbing and the young clones had caught on fast that they did not want that attention.

“She took them away.” Rex stated with certainty and Alpha nodded slowly, finally looking up, his gaze both guilty and angry. It was the helpless sort of rage that every Jedi serving trooper had felt when the truth came out.

“She did and I didn’t see them for four days, not until it was time for them to leave. Skywalker wasn’t moving right at the time, he was so pale and angry. But more than that, he almost looked… scared,” Alpha stated quietly, as if all of Anakin’s behavior in the early war made so much more sense. “Kenobi was almost normal by comparison but… he kept favoring his left side and I don’t know if I’m remembering it wrong but I could have sworn his hair was shorter and he too was so pale his freckles stuck out.” He murmured, as if saying it too loudly was too much for him.

Cody wanted to drop his head in his hands.

Or slam it on the table.

Considering what they knew, he could make a few adequate guesses.

Burtoni had come looking for the Jedi with a scientist and the minister, both Jedi were over twenty years of age and therefore unable to reject any request from a senator that wouldn’t leave permanent marks.

The next time Alpha saw either Jedi, they were hurt, pale and upset.

The longnecks had taken samples, most likely a lot of blood and done test on the Jedi, most likely in a twisted attempt to try and clone them or recreate Force sensitivity in clones.

Maybe other things too depending on what they had done and Cody knew he would have slicers get into the data banks of Kamino to find out.

It was one thing when it was Jango Fett, he had willingly donated his samples to be clone, was paid for it.

Hell, even the clones had some agency over the donation of ther sample, minor but some.

The Jedi however couldn’t say no.

How many other Jedi had Burtoni ordered around when she was back on Kamino?

Shaak Ti was there, stationed permanently.

How many experiments had the regal looking togruta been exposed to, how much blood had been taken from her?

What of those Jedi that came to supervise or refuel?

How many had Burtoni harmed?

“…Continue with the cloaking devise to make it seem like Burtoni is alive, I know its awful, but vote like she would have,” He murmured into his hands, feeling more than seeing Alpha tense up. “We’re moving the plans forward, operation Smoked vermin will be done by the end of the month. Just keep the illusion going for a month.” Cody sighed tiredly.

“…As you say Vod’alor.” Alpha murmured quietly, the tapping of a fist against a chestplate filling the air as Cody sought refuge in the darkness of his own hands.

Just quiet and darkness, just for a few moments.

So Cody is Vod’alor in Dangerous Galaxy? How does that happen? Is it because he took point in protecting their Jedi and the others followed? Or something else? I’m very curious!

Posted on av swmoddy

Rubbing his face tiredly, Cody winced at how pale he looked in the harsh light of the medbay fresher’s mirror. Hell, he had dark bags beneath his eyes and looked slightly red rimmed, he looked quite the sight and Cody just let out a deep sigh before just splashing cold water in his face.

He hadn’t managed to get to sleep after Obi-Wan was settled, regardless how much he tried and Helix had offered him something to sleep on but…

It hadn’t felt right, to sleep when Obi-Wan had trusted him to look out for his six.

Instead, he had asked for a stim, justifying himself for Helix that he wanted to be awake and aware for Obi-Wan.

It was a bit of a cheap move to pull that one, he knew he should sleep, but with slumped shoulders, Helix had understood and given him one stim, just for the morning, just so he could escort Obi-Wan back to the temple.

Of course, he couldn’t leave without a parting, “As my Vod’alor commands.” The snarky little bastard.

Vod’alor.

Such a stupid title.

Brother captain.

He grumbled faintly before pressing his forehead to the cool surface of the mirror, wishing he had a cup of dark, newly brewed caff.

As the highest ranking clone, Cody had ended up being in charge of everything, especially since he had been the one to bring in the information about what was going on behind the scenes.

Of course, it was because Skywalker had needed his help but it made the others automatically defer to him.

Cody had been the youngest of the commander class and yet somehow he was the highest ranking of all of them.

Now he had a title that could bring a lot of trouble with it in the future, as every trooper looked to him.

Even Wolffe and Alpha deferred to him and it was so karking weird, considering how frankly horrible and authoritative those two in particular could get.

He wasn’t sure how he had gotten everyone’s respect enough for them to listen to him like this, to follow his orders as they planned for the fall of the Senate, for a coup d’état that they never outright stated who was taking over for the Chancellor they were going to depose.

Yet everyone looked to Cody, as if they knew it be him, calling him Vod’alor.

It couldn’t simply be that he was highest ranking in the GAR.

Okay, so sure enough, he had maybe, once or twice, slammed every commander of the troopers into the sparring mats.

Or maybe a few dozen times…

Okay, so Cody never lost a sparring match, got his nose broken, got a black eye, hell, Alpha had even broken his leg once and sprained his ribs, but Cody still won.

Looking at his own eyes in the mirror, Cody wondered if it was that. The fact that he had every other leader of the GAR yield to him at some point in time and had yet to lose since he was a blueback.

Since he gained his armor, Cody had not lost to one of his brothers.

So maybe that was why he was Vod’alor, maybe that’s why everyone looked to him, maybe it was because Cody showed that not only did he have the skills to backup his actions but also the leadership and had gained the respect of his fellow vode.

It was conjecture at best, speculations.

But it was the best Cody had and with a tired sigh, he straightened and stepped back out of the fresher, settling back down on the bed he had claimed earlier as he looked to his General.

He looked a lot better now, sleeping calmly if albeit a drugged calm.

The swelling had gone down but the bruising on his face was now apparent and Cody felt the bones in his hands pop when he clenched them into fists.

Rex had gotten back to him an hour ago, they had a name now and if it wasn’t for the fact that Cody wanted to stay at Obi-Wan’s side, he might have done something stupid like killing the bastard right at this moment.

But he wouldn’t.

He’d wait a few days, maybe a week and then, when no one could connect the bastard to Obi-Wan, then Cody would take great pleasure in killing the asshole.

A small, dark smile crossed his lips at the thought.

According to Fox, the Senate was growing paranoid, the whisper of a serial killer had started up due to the amount of brutal deaths the troopers couldn’t quite disguise as drug overdoses or natural causes.

But some of these bastard didn’t deserve a merciful death.

Hell, none of them would have gotten a merciful death if it was up to Cody but they couldn’t take out everyone in the same wa-hmm, actually, maybe there could be an explosion on Coruscant.

For half a minute, Cody sat back against the headboard and fantasied about the Chancellor office exploding, grinning like a lunatic to himself as he thought about it.

He’d bring it up with Cody and the others in command, see what they thought about the idea.

Maybe not the Chancellor office in particular but hell, maybe a banquet with certain people in attendance.

Maybe with a few warnings to certain people to not attend.

Either an explosion or a slow working poison that mimicked something natural.

Actually, that latter one did sound like a good idea for some of the idiots and Cody tapped his lip thoughtfully as he glanced at the chrono, mentally grumbling as he took in that it was still four am.

Still three hours until Helix said he could use the stim.

‘Well, maybe we could use a poison that made them choke on their own blood, have their lungs fill up.’ Cody mused to himself, trying to make the time flow a bit faster. He knew there were a few diseases that did that, they could release a false news that there was some kind of infectious disease on Coruscant and that the troopers avoided it due to their helmets filters.

Fantasizing about the demagolka choking to death on their own fluids was actually entertaining and Cody briefly mused on the idea of him becoming a bit sadistically inclined thanks to all of this.

Then he shrugged and tilted his head, watching Obi-Wan, letting the sound of his even breaths calm his own mind.

‘For them, I’ll be anything in this damn galaxy.’ Cody noted to himself, even as he also made note to talk with Alpha-17, because killing the damn longneck on Kamino had been a risk.

Oh man, some more Kyber tears please? I’d love some Ahsoka

Posted on av swmoddy

Stilling when she felt the other person drop, Ahsoka shot her eyes to Rex without moving, silently asking for confirmation.

“He’s asleep.” Rex signed to her, watching closely.

This was new to everyone, Obi-Wan’s new state of being meant that he expended a lot more energy, his body trying to cope with his new existence and that meant that he ate more and he slept more.

The latter everyone was pleased with, Obi-Wan had gained some sorely lacking weight in the last few weeks that had everything to do with the snacks he kept nibbling on distractedly as he was handed things and nothing to do with muscle.

It made him look healthier, a warm glow to his face that wasn’t caused by his glowing freckles.

But it also meant that Obi-Wan slept a lot more, took naps in the middle of the day, after dinner, during meditation…

Whenever his body decided, Obi-Wan slept and the healers had forbidden him from trying to keep himself awake with the Force, warning him that he needed to adjust to a new normal.

The quicker his body adjusted to his circulation and nerve system, the quicker Obi-Wan could be fitted with the prosthetic he had finally decided to get.

His stumps had already been fitted with the neuro-wave, Ahsoka knew that from Skyguy, since he had been there when the healers had attached it to the stump, but due to needing two prosthetic at once, his body would need to adjust first before they were attached.

Because of the energy expenditure, Obi-Wan ended up sleeping on people.

Like now.

Ahsoka had originally not been on the list of ‘caretakers’, most of the adults in her life not comfortable with leaving Obi-Wan fully alone and generally, either Anakin or Cody was with him. But Anakin was needed for the investigation into the Chancellor, being interrogated if she was honest by the Senate commission.

And Cody was required in the barracks with the 212th.

Ahsoka had taken the chance to volunteer, Rex giving his vod a soft word that he’d go with her.

It wasn’t that they didn’t trust her to take care of him, she was a teenager after all, a young woman she’d claim herself but…

‘Its not the duties of our children and teens to care for us,’ Anakin had stated sternly. ‘And Obi-Wan wouldn’t be comfortable asking you for a lot of things he might need. He barely asks me as it is and only reason he asks Cody is because Cody has him under a spell. We trust you Ahsoka, but Obi-Wan is stubborn.’ He had explained seriously, arms crossed over his chest.

Cody had just flushed at the ‘spell’ part, shrugging at her bemused look.

But explained like that, she couldn’t help but understand.

Master Obi-Wan was stubborn on the worst of days, he wouldn’t ask for help if he was bleeding out some days.

But thankfully, with Rex around, he seemed more willing to at least admit to needing help, despite flushing darkly each time, ears turning red as they settled on the couch, Ahsoka doing her best to distract the human.

Now however, he was asleep and Ahsoka took a deep breath, reaching out with the Force in an attempt to keep him asleep.

Carefully she shifted off the couch as he kept Obi-Wan stable with the Force, glancing to Rex for help.

The captain quickly stood from the recliner and stepped around the caff table, carefully cupping Obi-Wan’s head and upper shoulders. Slowly he tilted the redhead, lowering him towards the couch with Ahsoka letting go of her own Force hold until Obi-Wan’s head rested on the waiting pillow.

That done, Rex pulled the blanket on the back of the couch over the other human, both of them holding their breath when Obi-Wan let out a low noise and shifted.

But thankfully he didn’t open his eyes, simply breathed out heavily and came to a still, his chest rising and falling steadily.

The two watched him sleep for a long moment before Ahsoka let out a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest. “…He sleeps so much.” She whispered.

Rex glanced at her, pausing in tucking the blanket. “You know why, he needs it. Give him time.” He murmured quietly in return.

Logically she knew it as she stared where the blanket fell in, where legs had once been.

But what she logically knew and what she felt were two very different things.

Ahsoka missed sparring with her grand master.

Recovery was not a straight line and some days, Ahsoka felt like she had lost the grandmaster she had come to know.

Other days it felt like Obi-Wan hadn’t been hurt and he was his old self.

Tucking her arms around herself, Ahsoka guiltily wondered if she was good for his recovery or not.

any chance on an update in needfortouch? how’s din doing?

Posted on av swmoddy

If Boba was asked, he’d wonder if Skywalker’s nose worked or if he was just heartless because he couldn’t understand how the Jedi had accepted the pup when Din came back smelling like that.

Like pain, grief and sour loss that seemed to be sending Dune into a tizzy as Din swayed towards the ramp and a waiting Boba.

It hadn’t escaped Boba that the Nite owl alpha at Kryze side was wearing her helmet and staying far back even as Kryze followed, the redhead’s face taunt even she tried to get the man to fight her there and then for the darksaber.

At least one of them had respect enough not to hassle Din right in that moment, even if her leader was trying to get a fight out of the man.

It made Boba’s lips pull into a snarl at the sight as he stepped down to grasp the taller man by the shoulder.

Boba didn’t put up with that shit and had pulled Din into the bowels of Slave 1, Dune and Kryze snarling at each other on the ramp with Shand quickly slipping up to the cockpit to get them ready to leave, recognizing that Boba would deal with the bounty hunter.

Boba focused on the broken omega, his hand resting on his shoulder as he pushed and pulled the man along slowly and steadily until he had Din in his quarters.

Din barely twitched at entering the alpha’s territory, one he had made clear to everyone to not enter.

But Din…

Boba couldn’t leave him just in the cargo hold in the makeshift beds right now, not with the grief practically wafting off him.

He could feel every instinct he had suppressed for years come roaring to life, telling him to protect and kill for the omega, telling him that his new packmate was in danger.

There was nothing he could do though, the danger was already past and done and now Din had to cope.

Which was why Boba carefully unlaced and undid the others armor, his concern rising when he didn’t even get a token protest, simply Din swaying on his feet.

“Easy…” He rumbled, setting Din’s helmet on his own armor stand for now, noting that it would need polishing as he set the darksaber on a weapon hook and the beskar spear to the wall.

Taking the helmet from the other man, he noted with even more concern that the back of it was slightly dented in, wondering what kind of force could do that kind of damage and quickly he grasped the other by the chin to look at his eyes.

It didn’t look like the other had a concussion, his pupils weren’t large or unfocused.

He simply looked… lost, standing in his kute in front of Boba, blinking down at him.

Boba still checked on the back of the others head, running his fingers through sweat stiff hair with gentle fingers. There was a tell tale sign of a bump back there but not much else thankfully, so, with his armor now on the stand, Boba guided Din to the bed and Boba’s den.

He carefully had the man settle down on the edge and then knelt, ignoring his aching knees as he did, undoing the others boots and pulling them off, grimacing internally as he noted the other wasn’t wearing socks and a quick check confirmed to him that Din had blisters on the heels of his feet. ‘Di’kut.’ He thought sadly, wondering if that was aimed at himself or at Din.

Not that he blamed the other too much, having lost everything on his ship outside of what he was wearing, a gear shift ball and a beskar spear.

“Why?” The soft, raspy voice made Boba look up, meeting those large, lost eyes.

Reaching up slowly, trying not to spook the other, Boba cupped Din’s cheek, watching how the others eyelids fluttered slightly at the touch. “…We could be pack,” Boba rumbled quietly, watching the others eyes focus on him again. “But regardless, right now, you’re hurting and I won’t leave you to hurt without doing something to sooth it, until you’re sound of mind.” He stated quietly.

Din simply stared at him before quietly hunching over and wrapping his arms around himself, shaking with silent tears.

Slowly, Boba encouraged the other down and into his den, let Din turn around towards the wall and curl up around one of the large pillows he had invested for his den.

Boba knew that the main bedroom of Slave 1 was a luxury for a ship and in that moment, he was grateful that he had invested in making a proper den in it as he let the omega cry, his potential packmate seeking comfort and safety of Boba’s nest.

He felt the ship vibrate, Fennec finally getting them out and away from the cruiser but didn’t move, remained kneeling by the bed as he instead settled his hand on Din’s head, stroking the man’s temple with his thumb. “That’s it… just let it out… just let it out.” Boba whispered quietly, sitting with the other as Din let himself cry for all the losses he had.

Di’kut =idiot