#Boost and Sinker
Hello and Goodnight
Fandom(s): Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Star Wars (Prequel Trilogy)
Summery: Ahsoka wanted to see the meteor shower, and unexpected visitor shows up at the docs but he's not an unwelcome one. || AU of an AU— Wolffepack against Child Abuse x MerMay AU
Pairing(s): PloKit, Micah/Plo (Past)
Part 2/3 of the May the 4th fics I have planned. Is this the cursed one? Probably not.
It's also my MerMay bit, though It might not be the only one I do for MerMay, we shall see
Children, Plo Koon knew, were precious. From the moment he had held his baby sister— he had been six years old then— to his career as a teacher, and then as part of the Child Protective Services, to when he held his niece for the first time, to when he first started acting alone outside of the Protective Services…
Yes, children were very precious.
The first children that he had adopted had been when his best friend and first partner had still been alive and with them. They were the same age, though one had been eight when she had been brought into the family, the other seven.
Lissarkh had been the eight-year-old, and had survived in back alleyways, eating scraps from the ground and dumpsters, and had bitten him when he had lifted her up out of the one behind his and Micah’s apartment building. Now she was just older than Wolffe, her hair dyed green and working with Mace to uncover smuggling rings with the Courscant Police.
Or she would be, had she not decided to go back to school. And Plo was fine with covering the costs for both her and her sister.
Bultar Swan had been Plo’s— and Micah’s— very first child. She had been taken in a year before Plo rather unceremoniously found Lissarkh behind their apartment building.
Taken from abusive parents in the city of Kuat, Plo hadn’t the heart to allow the child to enter the Forster System and appealed to Micah then for help.
Ah, but that had been such a long time ago.
Micah had been shot and killed close to fifteen years ago. Bultar and Lissarkh had been twelve, and Lissarkh had only managed to have four years' worth of rather fuzzy memories with him.
Still, in grief and death, he didn’t stop his care of other children. When Bultar and Lissarkh were twelve, he had found Wolffe and his brothers.
And life continued from there.
Plo loved all his children. It was as simple as that.
And as the night continued on, and the embers of the fire began to die, he knew that. Children were precious, and he loved his children.
Plo gazed over the sleeping forms of Boost and Sinker, tangled with Nex and Nox, and Comet. Warthog, Ghost, and Wildfire sprawled in the grass nearby, and Ahsoka wedged between Wolffe and Tracer, with Bultar and Lissarkh nearby and a number of their other brothers and sisters laying in the grass around the once blazing bonfire.
Ahsoka wanted to watch the meteor shower that was due overhead rather soon. Somehow that had translated into inviting as many of the ‘Plo's bros’ from across Coruscant as possible and everyone having a cookout and bonfire in the fields by the docs.
Plo didn’t mind.
It was lively and rather amusing to watch Ahsoka and Maul gang up on Anakin and Obi-Wan. To meet Bultar and Lissarkh’s friends again, to see Sha again— though she didn’t live too far from Dorin, just on the edge of the city and no more than a three-hour ride to her apartment building.
It had been a good evening.
But now the children were all settled down to rest until they woke back up due to the numerous alarms set on various phones.
A splash down at the docks made him perk up a bit, folding his glasses back into their case and setting them on the picnic table. He stood, picking his way through the sleeping bodies and walking down to the docks.
Data and Cable (And Plo would never question the boys on the names they wished to choose for themselves) had a small boat that was docked there for when Data needed silence from the noise of the house, but that wasn’t what had alerted him and that's not what had splashed down there.
It didn’t take long to get there, nor did it require much effort to find the switch that turned on the lone lantern at the end of the dock, and a familiar form was leaning on the planks.
Had the figure been a normal human, Plo might’ve been concerned about why they were on the end of his dock, but they weren’t— he wasn’t.
Not with green skin, large, dark eyes, and tentacle-like tresses instead of hair. No, this one was not human, though he did walk around in a human skin sometimes. He was a Mer, simple as that, though very different in appearance than the mermaids so commonly seen in movies and fiction. Most all of them were.
Nonetheless, Plo chuckled as he walked down the dock towards the figure.
“Hello, Kit,” he greeted, sitting down and crossing his legs upon reaching the end. A grin full of razor-sharp teeth was flashed his way before melting into a quizzical look.
“No glasses tonight?”
He chuckled. “No,” he told the other, “The light isn’t as bright at night, so my eyes aren’t bothered.”
Kit seemed to ponder on it for a moment before accepting it, something Plo assumed he would, considering how he knew a number of other Mer from the depths of the sea who were also sensitive to light.
Kit had been showing up at Dorin’s docks for a few months now, ever since Wolffe had accidentally fished him up, really. And then, of course, Plo had connected the dots a few weeks later and had met Kit Fisto the Mer-Rights activist, Kit’s human guise.
It had been a good few months of friendship, and, later, a rather interesting romantic partnership.
And Plo rather enjoyed the time spent talking with Kit.
“So what brings you by here?” he asked and the green Mer just flicked his tail, a few drops of water splashing onto his cheek where the medical mask wasn’t covering it.
“Heard some noise when I was on my way back from Aayla’s bar and decided to pop in,” Kit hummed loftily, before be paused. “Foul's still missing, by the way, so if you hear anything make sure to pass it on to her so she can get it to us.”
Plo nodded slowly at the mention of the other two— while Aayla herself wasn’t a Mer, nor was Foul, the two were still targets for the Creatures Trade. A faerie and a yeti, far from their homes, and now Foul was missing.
“I will,” he assured the green-skinned Mer, who just grinned again.
“So, why are all of you and yours out this late?” he asked, leaning on his elbows as his tresses curled, flicking drops of water.
Plo hummed, glancing back at his sleeping children. “Ahsoka wanted to watch the Meteor Shower,” he told him simply.
The Mer clicked softly, chuckling before nodding. “Yes, a rather wonderful sight, even for us. If the waters are clear enough out in the open ocean, many of us head to the surface to watch when astronomical events such as this happen.”
“I think humans and non-humans can agree on that at least,” Plo chuckled softly as well, “I studied space in school a long time ago, and once wished to go, but ended up on a different path.”
Kit hummed, tail and tresses flicking as he listened. “You humans are so interesting, thinking about duties you want to do for the future, even if they don’t come to pass.”
“While you Mer live in the moment.”
The said Mer just laughed, head tossed back. “Of course,” he agreed. “Why worry over something that is uncertain, and fret over what is not there yet? The future might not come, so live as you do now and enjoy it. If you look too far to the future, you lose sight of what’s around you.”
Plo couldn’t help but smile under his mask. “Perhaps,” he agreed before the sharp sound of phone alarms going off rang out in the night. Kit made a face, shaking his head as grumbles and groans came from Plo’s children, most still half asleep in the grass.
He glanced back at them, seeing Wolffe shake the sleep from his head before lightly punching Boost and Sinker so they woke up.
Kit whistled to get his attention again and Plo turned back around as the green-skinned Mer pointed upwards. He tilted his head back, smiling again under his mask as Ahsoka let out a whoop behind him. The first of many silver streaks crossed the sky, bright and beautiful and Plo reached over to the lantern, clicking it off without a word.
“Quite a sight, isn’t it?” Kit mused, “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one at the surface. I was down near Muunilinst last time, all the way across the ocean. It’s rather bleak there, so I’m glad I’m down over here for this one.”
Plo hummed, watching the sky still as he nodded. “It is rather beautiful. I missed the last one. Feral had been extremely ill and the Nightbrothers were staying with us until he got better.”
There was silence for a moment before another splash sounded and Plo let out a slightly disgruntled noise as he was splashed, Kit hauling himself onto the dock.
He turned to gaze at the Mer, raising a brow, and Kit just grinned before leaning forwards. A single, clawed finger hooked on the edge of his mask, pulling it down and before Plo could say anything, Kit closed the distance between them.
It wasn’t a deep kiss, not like the first time Kit had kissed him out of nowhere, but it also wasn’t playful like the quick and teasing pecks the Mer had peppered across his face while he had been slightly tipsy at Aayla’s bar.
It was nice, either way though, as Kit pulled back. “Cute.”
Plo reached up, touching his cheeks before huffing a bit and pulling his mask back up to hide his flush.
“Hush, you,” he huffed again, smacking the Mer on the arm as he laughed. That just made Kit laugh harder, tresses curling and moving in that happy way they did when he was delighted.
Plo rolled his eyes, turning his head back up to the sky as more and more meteors crossed the wide expanse. Behind him, he could hear his children talking, words of awe and wonder drifting down to the docks.
“It really is beautiful,” he murmured as Kit rested his chin on his shoulder, tresses curling and draping across the other one.
“Just like you,” the Mer teased, an equally teasing croon leaving him, and Plo bit back a laugh. The compliment was sincere, but nonetheless.
“I will push you off this dock, Kit.”
And Kit just laughed, wrapping his arms around him as the stars continued on their paths over head.
Dorin is the name that belongs to Plo's farmhouse, Data and Cable show up briefly in some of my other work and Nex and Nox showed up in the previous WPACA installment. Ghost shows up like all the time in my works hagjkfjghd. Anyways, was this the cursed one? That's for you to decide. Happy May the 4th!
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Wolfpack x Reader: A Friendly Visit
Word Count: 551
Summary: Here, the Reader visits a couple of Clone Troopers after they had surgery to remove their Behavioral Modification Biochips.
Notes: So...this is my first time every writing for any of the Clones??? Whaaat?? Hopefully it went well :)
Walking toward one of the many recovery rooms, you were on a mission of your own. With a small stack of extra plush blankets cradled in your grasp, there was nothing and no one in the galaxy that could stop you.
With one final step, the door swished open. There, you looked about the room and were met with three pairs of heavy eyelids.
“How are my boys doing?” You cooed.
“Like a clanker with a hole in it,” replied Sinker, running a hand through his short light hair.
“Resting?” You tried to interpret, stepping further into the room.
“So we’ll just continue to sit here,” he shrugged, looking absolutely bored.
“We were told to rest,” acknowledged Boost. “We won’t have to stay here that long, right?”
“We will remain here in these beds until we are ordered otherwise,” said Wolffe, his eyes closing briefly as he adjusted his legs beneath the bed-sheet. “What brings you here? Did they send you with our orders?” He asked of you.
“No, I brought these,” you gestured with the pile of blankets.
“Great, they were sent with body bags,” Sinker groaned.
“These are not body bags,” you defended.
Striding quickly over to his bedside, you dropped one of them onto his lap. “Here, from me to you.”
You watched as he unfolded the cloth and smoothed his fingers over the fabric.
“I never knew anything could be this soft,” he awed. “Thank you.”
Seeing his brown eyes sparkle up at you with such gratitude made your heart swell.
“But,” his brows furrowed, “we’re just clones. We—”
“Not to me.”
Leaning down, you wrapped your arms around him and gave his shoulders a gentle squeeze.
Sinker froze and melted at your touch within a single breath. It was then that you heard a stifling little noise.
Releasing your hold on the clone, you gave him a questioning look.
“Don’t look at me. It’s Boost who—”
“Don’t pin this on me—”
“You made the side comment. You want a hug too!”
“To be honest, I think you both do since you’re making such a big deal out of it. But, I mean, if you don’t want one…”
“Wait,” Boost paused, seeing as you made a move toward the door. “I think we’re man enough to be honest about our feelings.”
With a laugh, you went over to Boost and presented him with a blanket of his own with a pairing hug.
“Do you think other citizens will give us hugs and stuff too?” Asked of Sinker as you made your way over to Wolffe.
“Don’t count on it,” said their Commander.
“I think it would depend on the group or person,” you smiled at him.
“Yeah, remember how they hugged the translator droid on Aleen?” Asked of Boost.
Wolffe frowned, his eyes rolling back in disgust, “Don’t remind me.”
“Think of it this way, Wolffe,” you reasoned, handing him the final blanket, “would you rather have a bunch of them hugging you, or just me?”
“I don’t think there’s any debate over that answer.”
“Good,” you smiled, reaching down to hug him.
“Thanks for bringing us extra supplies,” Wolffe said, his voice soft as a smile spread across his lips.
“It’s a gift, and a thank you for all you have done for the Republic.”
Happy Star Wars Day and May the 4th be with you!!
For more fanfiction and fanart check out my Tumblr or if you feel inclined, donate to my Ko-Fi
I also have more Star Wars inspired merch coming out on My Store.
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No one wants to talk about Sinkers eyes..? Okay, I will do it :
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Wollfe: Instead of wasting money by going to see Godzilla Vs Kong, I'll just make Boost and Sinker do a project together and watch from afar.
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The Clones at Kamino Elementary’s Scholastic Book Fair
Picture it, elementary school, 2002. You are watching the clock intensely. not because you can tell the time you just started kindergarten ffs, but just to build up the anticipation of the scene as you wait for your class’ turn to go to the library for the book fair. 50 cents jingles in your pocket as you anxiously await your chance to buy erasers that smell like artificial fruit and a poster of an elephant wearing glasses
Rex- The exhausted teacher who is pumped to drop off his class for a few minutes to shop while he beelines it for the staff room to get his 8th cup of coffee
Echo- The parent on shift in charge of helping kids find the books they want. Tries to push them away from captain underpants and toward the nat geo educational books
Fives- Buys the entire collection of Captain Underpants available anyways
Jesse- Constantly asks “How much is this one?” while looking directly at the price tag
Kix- The “Make it rain” kid. His parents send him with a $20. he buys the cheapest book possible, then treats the rest of his friends to chocolate scented pencils
Tup- the volunteer working the cash register. Is the change exact? Who knows!
Dogma- “OH SWEET THEY HAVE HARRY POTTER!”
Hardcase- Bought that elephant wearing glasses poster and nothing else.
Coric- Spends ten minutes deciding on a rainbow pen
Bly- buys one of every book mark to give to his girlfriends on the playground
99- The sweet little school librairian hyping every single kid up on their purchases because it makes them happy, so who cares what they buy?
Cody- Opens every book he is interested in and skims through the page.
Waxer/Boil- UH team Junie b jones box set purchase club!!!
Wolffe- Spends his entire ass time at the animorphs books table. He would be obsessed and you cant tell me otherwise.
Boost/Sinker- Attracted to shiny things, crow brains (only buys books with attached charms or toys)
Hunter- pocket full of the novelty scented erasers is all he needs.
Wrecker- Sticker books and those little toys you could buy whose eyes pop out of their head when you squeeze
Tech- Tries to refuse to buy anything because its “Not in his reading level”
but eventually breaks down when he sees a really cool nat geo book on robots
Crosshair- Buys like three bendy pencils so him and his friends can whack each other with them in class later.
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just another wip
“ARC Commanders,” High General Windu greeted, “Master Plo Koon, we welcome you back to Coruscant.”
“Sir,” Commander Fordo saluted before he reached up, taking his helmet off. The Alpha ARC was just as Cody remembered him from when he was a cadet, though his hair was longer, but that mohawk was still there. He had more scars than before and Cody knew he wasn’t the only one whose eyes widened when the ARC in blue next to Fordo removed their helmet next.
He hadn’t known there was a woman— A sister— in their ranks. She had a few scars across her face, and the litheness of her form made sense now. General Ti smiled gently at the ARC.
“It’s good to be back home, Master Windu,” General Koon was saying as the other ARCs took their helmets off. “The vode have been anxious to see their siblings.”
“Aw, shit, Master Plo,” one of the ARCs grumbled, his hair a blonde color (natural or dyed, Cody couldn’t be sure, but it was most likely the later) and messy “No need to rat us all out.”
“Yeah, Plo-Buir, we have a rep to uphold!” one of the gray ARCs cried and the Kel Dor let out a rumbling laugh. Cody was reeling at the blatant use of the Jedi’s first name and buir thrown in. Fordo just rolled his eyes.
“Striker, Sinker, don’t be rude,” he barked, “General Plo took out over half the droid forces just to get us back here faster.”
“Sorry Plo-Buir.” came the two voices and Fordo just rolled his eyes again. Koon placed a hand on Fordo’s puldron and Cody had to do a double take back at the trio of Gray ARCs and — yes, those were Wolffe, Boost, and Sinker. Boost and one of the blues were both picking on Sinker, the larger ARC holding him in a headlock while Boost messed up his hair. Wolffe had the softest kriffing look that he had ever had in a long while on his face as he watched before snapping back to attention as General Ti cleared her throat.
“I’m certain that all of them are ready for a rest,” she mused, “As are you my friend. Traveling with thirteen Commander-class ARCs must have been quite the story.”
Plo chuckled but Wolffe butt in before he could start. “All due respect, General, but General Buir is the one who caused the most trouble.”
“Tell the nice Togruta how you don’t kriffin’ eat until we’re all done, General,” Fordo added and Cody tried not to feel a pang of jealousy that Wolffe had found someone outside of their batch he could rely on like he once had with him, Fox, Ponds, and Bly.
General Windu raised a brow and General Koon let out a sigh. “Still not out of that habit, I see.”
“My friend, if I have told you once, I have told you many times over—”
“Kel Dor wait for children to be fed first, yes I’m aware,” the Kuron Jedi drawled. “And are you still refusing to sit in chairs? That’s not a Kel Dor thing.”
The said Kel Dor let out another sigh as both Wolffe and Fordo grabbed ahold of his shoulders and shoved him at General Fisto— much to Cody’s confusion.
“General Fisto, make sure he Kriffin’ eats between the two of you’s tango in the—”
“FRODO!” The ARC grunted, staggering a bit as the female clone kicked his knees out from under him. “Don’t be rude!”
“Wise you brat!”
Cody chanced a glance at the two Jedi, both flush with embarrassment as Windu trembled, a hand over his mouth and— Shaak Ti wasn’t even trying to hide her laughter.
this was for that one concept idea where the M10 was assigned to Plo after the Malevolence? Idk i never did much else for it.
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did someone say au where plo can’t stop adopting puppies because of his fatherly nature and now he has too many so he refers to them as a wolfpack? no? well have it anyway
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The Clones as the Worlds Worst Pirate Crew
Rex- Captain of the idiot crew. Bless him he is just trying his best
Echo- Remember those set of rules and codes from POTC? Yeah Echo memorized them and everytime he tries to mention them, Jesse tosses him overboard
Fives- giggles everytime someone says “booty”
Jesse- Is the one constantly saying booty at inappropriate times to make Fives laugh
Kix- “Do you know what this salt water air is going to do to my brass buttons?! I can’t work in these conditions!” Always looks through their stolen treasure to make sure the gems are real
Tup- The navigator. Was supposed to lead them to a secret pirates cove, but somehow ended up at a disney resort island.
Dogma- Feels like he needs to be more authentic and wears a fake pegged leg and duct tapes one of those little toy parrots that copies everything you say to his shoulder
Hardcase- Thinks “Shiver me timbers” means the ship is cold and runs around covering up all the wooden masts.
Coric- “Im tired of pulling splinters out of your ass stop sliding down the banisters of the ships stairs THEY ARE WOOD.”
Bly- Sings all the time. Too bad he sings only one song and its about his girlfriend.
99- swabs the deck constantly. because everyone is inconsiderate and always walks right where he just cleaned
Cody- 1st mate, may have a closeted drinking problem.
Waxer/Boil- tries to convince the captain at every port to adopt one of the kids who needs a home.
Wolffe- Wears not one, but TWO eyepatches so he can avoid seeing the bullshit going on around them
Boost/Sinker- fall out of the crows nest at least 5 times a day.
Hunter- The crews rum maker. hordes it for himself and the 1st mate
Wrecker- tosses a floatie over the side and hops out with a rope tied to it, he likes to cruise alongside the ship
Tech- “Wait you mean we are actual pirates? I thought you meant you wanted me to illegally download the entire queue of movies and shows from netflix without paying”
Crosshair- “I have great aim!” then proceeds to shoot a canon through the floor of the ship
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Boost and Sinker were the kids who ninja ran down the hallways in middle school, Naruto style
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15. The biggest, warmest hugs with Sinker? ❤
Okay hi! Welcome to my headcanon that as much as Ahsoka loves the 501st, the 104th are like her other side of the fam. Again, the spelling/grammar is probably not top notch. But like Yolo i guess
“Calm down Sinker, for Maker’s sake.” Sinker punched Boost in the arm.
“Just because you can play it cool, I’m just excited.” Sinker was very annoyed with his brother.
“Like I couldn’t tell,” Boost gestured at the pillows and blankets and holo-projector set up in the 104th barracks.
Sinker looked incredulously back at Boost. “What was I supposed to do, do nothing for our favourite Commander?”
“Don’t let Wolffe hear you say that.”
“Don’t let Wolffe hear you say what?” The Commander of the 104th walked down the hall towards the barracks, his helmet tucked under his arm a small smile gracing his face. A small orange togruta, draped in an oversize cloak was walking out in front of the man.
“Little ‘Soka!” Sinker began to run towards the girl, Ahsoka starting her own pace to meet him in the middle. She leapt up into him, her arms clasping round his neck. Sinker held her in a tight hug.
“Oh I missed having you around little’un.” She pulled him in a little tighter.
“I missed all of my favourite Wolfpack.” Ahsoka replied.
Sinker held her for one more moment, aware that both Wolffe and Boost were just standing there.
“Come on kid, I got something to show you,” He guided Ahsoka the small distance down the hall and into the barracks where the holoprojectore lit up the walls. Other Wolfpack members were already snuggled up in the mess of bedding on the floor, pthe smell of popcorn wafting through the air.
Ahsoka settled in between Wolffe and Sinker, using the force to snatch the popcorn off Boost. He scowled.
The opening of her favourite rom com began to play on the screen, and she made a mental note to come up with more excuses to hang out with Master Pro and his very awesome Wolfpack
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139. "It's like you don't have a care or worry in the world."
I think I got what you were saying? But this might not be what you wanted.
Sith Artifacts were tricky at best. And at worst, they caused some sort of bodily harm, irreversible curse, bonded you to a malevolent and dark spirit, or something worse. The Order had specialized Jedi for the extraction of these artifacts, normally, that was.
The war had stretched everyone thin, for sure.
Still, despite that, it had been a welcome respite from the frontlines to join his former Padawan in hunting for an artifact in a Sith Temple that she had found. Things had, of course, been fine until the said artifact had been found. Despite handing it with care, something had still triggered the artifact and well...
Plo Koon wasn’t overly fond of being back to his young adult years physically. It was... uncomfortable. Bultar, at least, had managed to duck behind a Pillar in time with Sergeant Banks. The rest of the Swan Company and Wolffepack weren’t so lucky. But for now, they were idle in space, until Master Windu got back to them on a possible way to reverse the effects.
Plo sighed, a hissing noise coming from his respirator, as he walked through the halls of the Courageous, heading for the vode’s sleeping quarters. For now, the remainder of the 104th and Banks could handle the Flagship, but Plo was, admittedly, anxious to check up on the rest of Bultar and his men— the one’s who had been effected by the artifact.
Bultar was still with them, but as the highest ranking officer on board, he had to give the report.
Still, he pushed the worry away as he opened the door to the barracks, his mood lightening when he saw Bultar sitting among a pile of tiny Clone Cadets, most of them asleep, though a few were huddled around Bultar’s datapad, watching some sort of holofilm she had loaded up for them. The Kuati young woman looked up at him as he closed the door quietly.
“No change?” he asked, walking over and sitting next to her. She shook her head.
“No,” she sighed. “Did Master Windu say anything?”
He shook his head in return, blinking as the tiny cadet that was certainly Wolffe moved over to him and settled down. Boost and Sinker followed, large, tired eyes gazing at him in curiosity. He tilted his head, giving them a small smile before they decided to settle and go back to sleep. He let out a sigh, gently stroking their hair as they did.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he murmured, “How different they all are when they’re this small.
Bultar just nodded and Plo leaned back a bit, gazing at the tiny clones.
“It's like you don't have a care or worry in the world."
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I was given permission by @the-flyingace to draw some art for his modern au. I liked motorcycles before but this just makes it worse. I’d really like to ride on the back of Wolffe’s motorcycle
I’m also alien-soop-spam btw
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The Clones as Motivational Monday Quotes
Because tomorrow is Monday. And Mondays suck.
Rex-“The tragedy in life doesn’t lie in not reaching your goal. The tragedy lies in having no goal to reach.”
Echo-“Life offers you so many doors, it is up to you which to open and which one to close.”
Fives-“I have learned over the years that when one’s mind is made up, this diminishes fear.”
Jesse-“Whatever the mind of man can conceive and believe, it can achieve.”
Kix-“Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say, and not giving a damn.”
Tup- “Don’t let yesterdays actions control today“
Dogma-“Everything you want is on the other side of fear.”
Hardcase-“Excellence is an art won by training and habituation. We do not act rightly because we have virtue or excellence, but we rather have those because we have acted rightly. We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.”
Coric-“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.”
Bly-“The question isn’t who is going to let me; it’s who is going to stop me.”
99-“If opportunity doesn’t knock, build a door.”
Cody-“Strive not to be a success, but rather to be of value.”
Waxer/Boil-“If you’re offered a seat on a rocket ship, don’t ask what seat! Just get on.”
Wolffe-“The man who has confidence in himself gains the confidence of others.”
Boost/Sinker-“How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.”
Hunter- “You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.”
Wrecker-“The only way to do great work is to love what you do.”
Tech-“Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.”
Crosshair- “Every day we have plenty of opportunities to get angry, stressed or offended. But what you’re doing when you indulge these negative emotions is giving something outside yourself power over your happiness. You can choose to not let little things upset you.”
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Hi Blaze! I'm very intrigued by 'Among the Wolves',,,,can I ask about this one?
Among the Wolves is a story I'm working on that started as an ask here on tumblr. It's about Dogma being assigned to the Wolfpack after being released from incarceration on Kamino.
He was partially reconditioned and has flashbacks and nightmares about Umbara. He was assigned to the Wolfpack because he wasn't reintegrating into the 501st, and Rex didn't want to impose more stress on him than he'd already been through.
Even among unfamiliar vode, Dogma struggles at first, until Wolffe approaches him and (over time) reassures him that he's not going to be taken away, and helps him settle. It helps immeasurably when Wolffe gives him a list of the implicit rules that differentiate Wolfpack from other battalions.
It takes time for Dogma to begin to settle into some kind of rhythm, and as he grows more comfortable he also grows more desperate to prove himself valuable. After realizing he won't be punished, he questions Plo's orders frequently, much the Wolfpack's chagrin, but Plo thinks it's excellent to have someone question him.
Feel free to ask me more about this if you're interested!
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EMMA!!! I've been off Tumblr a lot for the last two or three days because school is trying to kill me :,) but I saw that you have 150 followers and congratulations!! you deserve it, all of ur fics are amazing and you're so sweet! <3. Can I request something with clone wars boba? (also I'm working on ur fic request, will try to finish it within the next few days)
HULLO and thank you!!! you’re far too kind and i’ve been treasuring this ask since i got it (’: and uh. i don’t even know if you remember sending this since it’s like 4-5 months late and - i’m so so sorry ): but!!! i finally got an idea so here is clone wars boba, newly adopted by plo koon (aka the only reality i am willing to accept XD ) and struggling to adjust to his new position as an honorary member of the 104th
featuring: plo’buir being the daddest dad to ever dad, wolffe not taking proper care of himself, and boba being the menace of an almost-eleven-year-old that he is (that age group frightens me)
word count: uh you know how i said i was going to take asks to ‘learn how to write short, quick things’? ...yeah this is 2,755 words. *cries in clown*
warnings/rating: g, but boba’s still grieving jango so there’s conversation around death
Another snore rumbled through the room and Boba took advantage of it to step closer to the door. Sinker’s snoring had been driving him crazy since he’d been brought on board, but right now it was proving to be advantageous.
That being said, it was still taking longer than Boba was comfortable with to inch his way across the room in time to the snores. He cast a longing glance at the door and willed Sinker to breathe faster. Though tempting, he knew it would be foolish to risk making a run for it; he’d tried that last week and gotten caught almost immediately. And what was even worse, as a result he now had to sit through evening meditations with the Jedi general in an effort on Plo Koon’s part to “help him sleep more soundly.”
Boba wrinkled his nose crossly. Short of magically forcing his nightmares to disappear, the only thing that would help him sleep would be to have his own room away from the troopers. They didn’t trust him that far, of course, and even if they had, there wasn’t room on the ship. At this point, though, Boba was willing to sleep in a storage closet. He hadn’t grown up like these men, crammed together like tinned fish and marinating in each other’s space until they thought and talked and walked the same. Boba had only ever heard Jango speak of them with cool disdain, and now that he was around them every hour of the day, Boba understood better than ever why his father hadn’t cared for them. They were - well, pathetic. A whole army of grown men who refused to believe that the murderous Jedi and the tyrannical Republic were anything but good. Yes, pathetic really was the only word for it.
The control panel was finally within reach. Boba gritted his teeth against the inevitable soft sound of the door opening and ducked through it as quickly as he could, shutting it again and taking off in a run. If he was lucky no one would wake up and notice his empty bunk before he made it to the hangar. Now it was just a matter of getting past the guards, which, admittedly, he didn’t have a plan for. He’d relied on Jango for that sort of thing, and after him - no. Boba definitely didn’t want to think about that traitor of a woman.
Sudden footsteps behind him made Boba’s heart leap into his throat and he tried to speed up, but of course whichever trooper it was chasing him had far longer legs than he.
“Give it up, kid,” the man behind him said gruffly.
Boba didn’t have to look to know who that voice belonged to. He cursed under his breath. Of all the soldiers to get caught by, it had to be the karking commander.
Gloved hands grabbed his shoulders and Boba spun out of the grip to face his would-be-captor, throwing out his arm to punch a hard chest. Very hard. Boba yelled, the pain radiating up his arm temporarily immobilizing him; the commander just sighed and readjusted his grip.
“For pity’s sake, kid, stop trying to punch people when they’re wearin’ plastoid, will you?”
“How was I supposed to know you wear armor to bed, weirdo?” Boba spat.
Wolffe rolled his eyes. “I haven’t gone to bed yet. Luckily. Were you trying to get to the hangar again?”
Boba ignored the question, his mind racing to figure out what he’d missed. He slept in the same quarters as Wolffe and none of the bunks had been empty. He’d had plenty of time to look around while he was sneaking out. Except -
“You let someone else sleep in your bunk.”
“Answer the question. Were you trying to steal one of our ships?”
“You weren’t planning on going to bed,” Boba continued gleefully. “Oh-h, the general’s not gonna like that.”
“General Koon isn’t gonna like you sneaking around again,” Wolffe retorted. “Let’s go have a chat with him, huh?”
The commander yanked Boba around again, taking him firmly by the back of his tunic and starting to march him down the corridor. Boba growled in frustration and made a half-hearted attempt to shake himself loose, which only ended in Wolffe giving him a real shake.
“I’m gonna tell him you weren’t in bed,” Boba said.
Wolffe didn’t respond to that. Boba tried again.
“And that you weren’t ever going to go to bed.”
Wolffe just rolled his eyes.
“I’ll tell one of the medics,” Boba said.
“Aw, for - grow up, kid, this isn’t Kamino.”
That was certainly true. Boba fell quiet and allowed himself to be led the rest of the way to the general’s quarters. The commander, as usual, was silent as well and Boba found himself sneaking glances up at his face now and then. It was really just morbid curiosity and he knew it, but from this angle he couldn’t see Wolffe’s cybernetic eye, and if Boba didn’t look too long he could almost think it was Jango next to him. His throat tightened a little more with every look, and when Wolffe finally looked down and caught him staring, Boba felt a strange urge to say something to him - he didn’t know what. But he did know if he didn’t start fighting again he was going to start sniveling instead.
“I hate you.”
The only response was another eye roll.
“I really, really hate you,” Boba muttered just loudly enough for Wolffe to hear. “I hope everybody in your stupid wolfpack gets blown up.”
Not breaking stride, Wolffe whipped his head towards Boba and actually bared his teeth.
“You’ve got a real problem, kid,” he snarled.
Boba opened his mouth to retort, however, a rumbling voice cut him off.
“Good evening, Wolffe. I see that Boba has been refusing to stay in his quarters again?”
It was the general, of course, clad in what looked like some sort of dressing gown. Not that it was easy to tell the difference between dressing gowns and regular Jedi robes, Boba thought.
“Sir.” The commander stopped walking and pushed Boba forwards, not letting go of his tunic. “Yeah, I caught him heading towards the hangar. As usual.”
“Wolffe wasn’t in his quarters, either,” Boba pointed out.
“I’m neither a criminal nor a child, and I can go where I choose,” Wolffe said sternly. “You’re both and you can’t.”
“I’m not a child!” Boba shouted.
“If we are going to be technical about these things,” Plo broke in, his tone as mild as if he were trying to soothe a mastiff, “Wolffe is also a child.”
The hand at the back of Boba’s tunic tightened. Twisting his neck around again, Boba looked up at Wolffe to see that the man was gaping at the general with wide, betrayed eyes. Boba grinned.
“S-sir,” Wolffe said. “Sir, I - I don’t - “
“My understanding,” Plo continued, “is that the two of you are close in age.”
“Nah!” Boba jeered. “I’m older than he is, aren’t I, Commander?”
Wolffe looked towards the ceiling with gritted teeth and said nothing. Plo waited for a moment, hands folded in his dressing gown serenely. Well. If Wolffe wasn’t going to explain, Boba certainly was.
“I’m nearly eleven,” Boba said gleefully. “And he’s a year younger than me. He’s only ten.”
The revelation obviously didn’t take the Kel Dor by surprise, but he bowed his head and sighed a little anyways. Wolffe took advantage of the opportunity to shake Boba discreetly.
“Hey!” Boba yelled and jammed his elbow back again, immediately remembering why he’d stopped trying to fight Wolffe in the first place.
“Children!” Plo said, ignoring both Wolffe’s sound of protest and Boba’s yelp of pain. “Children. Let’s find something better to do than quarrel with each other.”
“I’ll take this one back to bed,” Wolffe began.
Oh, no. Boba was having none of that.
“Don’t you dare! I’m not going to bed, I can’t sleep, I’ll - I’ll hit you again - “
“Perhaps a cup of tea?” Plo suggested quickly.
“I hate tea,” said Boba, but he realized he might have an opportunity and he pressed his advantage. “I want tihaar.”
The silence that met that statement was deafening. Plo looked at Wolffe, who looked at Plo, who looked at Boba, who stared back unblinkingly. The Kel Dor cleared his throat once, and then twice, and finally lifted his hands out in a clear gesture of defeat.
“Isn’t that alcohol, Boba?” he asked.
There was a desperate note to his voice and Boba very nearly laughed.
“Yeah, it’s a spirit,” Wolffe cut in. “You’re way too young to be drinking, kid, let alone drinking that.”
“So are you, kid,” Boba shot back and Plo groaned.
“Boba, I don’t think you’d like alcohol,” he said. “Even Wolffe likes juice better. Isn’t that so, Commander?”
Now that was funny. Even funnier was the defeated manner in which Wolffe nodded, the movement as minute as he could get away with.
“Juice would be best, I think,” Plo said.
And so a few minutes later Boba found himself in the general’s cramped quarters, sitting across from Wolffe while Plo poured them both glasses of juice. The commander sat hunched over, his elbows on his knees and his gaze on the ground. Boba had a feeling he was trying not to look at him.
“So, Boba,” Plo said conversationally, handing him a glass. “I take it the meditations are not calming your mind as effectively as we had hoped?”
Boba scoffed. “You’d hoped. I knew they wouldn’t work.”
“Ah.” The general took a seat and hummed statically through his mask. “That would explain why they failed.”
For a brief moment, Boba thought about throwing his glass at the impossibly patient Kel Dor. It was a foolish urge, of course, he wasn’t that childish and at any rate, he didn’t want even more meditation sessions tacked onto his schedule.
“Anger is a healthy part of grief, but prolonging it like this - “ Plo began.
“I’m sick of hearing that!” Boba spat. “You’ve said it before and it doesn’t help. You’re not helping me, so - quit trying already.” He set his jaw and stared defiantly at the general. “I don’t need your help.”
Wolffe looked up sharply and glared at Boba. “You wanna show some gratitude? You’d be in prison with a bunch of murderers an’ other scum if it wasn’t for General Koon.”
“Never mind that,” Plo said. “Boba is right about one thing, I don’t appear to be in a position to offer him the help that he needs.”
“I don’t need - “
“But perhaps you are, Wolffe.”
Confusion flashed across the commander’s face. Boba groaned and flung himself further back into his chair, allowing himself to slide down until his rear end was barely resting on the seat. He’d already had to endure lectures on how the troopers - or, as Plo insisted on calling them, his “brothers” - had suffered countless losses and yet bore them with patience and dignity, carrying on despite their supposedly devastating grief. They didn’t get it. They hadn’t lost anyone who mattered, not like Jango had mattered.
“How do you handle your grief, Commander? Your methods may resonate more with Boba than mine do,” Plo continued, ignoring Boba’s sour expression.
Wolffe didn’t answer for a moment, just looked at the floor with knitted brows and bowed head.
“I focus on the men around me now - on doing everything I can to keep them alive,” he finally said. “We don’t have the luxury of wasting time mourning the men who’re gone.”
There was a hard look in Wolffe’s eyes as he spoke the last sentence and he made a point of looking directly at Boba, who turned his head away immediately. Plo reached over and put his hand on Wolffe’s shoulder.
“That is sound advice for a soldier, though Boba isn’t a soldier just yet.” Plo’s tone was gentle, almost fatherly, and Boba had to slurp noisily at his juice to ignore it. “You bring up a good point; the best way to distract oneself is by focusing on others. Boba, how can you do that?”
“I won’t,” Boba said simply.
The general and his commander sighed in unison.
“Fine. In that case I will think on this and let you know what I expect you to do,” Plo said, his tone turned authoritative again. “And tonight, I want you to go back to your quarters with Wolffe and make sure he gets some rest.”
Wolffe sat up abruptly. “Sir!”
“Wolffe, please.” The Kel Dor put his hand on the man’s shoulder again. “The men and I need you at your best tomorrow.”
There’d been too much sentiment already for one night, Boba thought, and also, the longer he was kept here, the more likely it was the Jedi would think of another lesson to give him. He stood up.
“Okay, let’s go.”
Directing a last pleading look at his general, the commander grabbed his glass and drained it before standing as well.
"Thank you, Wolffe,” Plo said. “And Boba, I trust that if you cannot treat Commander Wolffe as a brother you will at least treat him as a commanding officer and give him the respect he is due. If not, I will be forced to consider reassigning you to different quarters, and I’m sure we both would prefer not to shift you around after you’ve already gotten comfortable.”
Though “comfortable” was stretching it, Boba was forced to admit to himself that he didn’t want to have to get used to a whole new group of troopers. At least the ones he bunked with left him alone. He wasn’t going to say anything to the Jedi, though, and thankfully Plo seemed willing to interpret his silence as acquiescence.
Once the door had shut behind them, Wolffe turned to Boba.
“You so much as look towards the hangar and I’m hauling you back the same way I did before,” he said warningly.
Boba took the precaution of taking a step away from the commander. “I’m not stupid.”
“Good.” Wolffe nodded at Boba’s hand. “Need a bacta patch before we go back?”
He’d almost forgotten about the new bruises forming. “I’m fine.”
Shrugging, Wolffe started walking, gesturing for Boba to follow him. “Tomorrow I’m gonna teach you some of the drills I used to do when I was your age. They’re good for getting aggression out.”
“You are my age,” Boba said. He couldn’t help the spark of interest he felt over the drills, though. “Why? Did General Koon tell you to?”
The commander hesitated. “No. I think they’d help you, though, and you need help whether you like it or not. I can’t have some hot-headed kid startin’ fights with my men at every opportunity.”
Boba scoffed, but he didn’t push it. He and Wolffe walked together in silence for a while before Wolffe spoke again.
“I’m used to helping men adjust to this battalion. Not used to kids, but…” He trailed off and glanced at Boba, determination written on his face. “We’ll figure this out.”
There was something all too familiar about his expression and Boba looked away, chewing his lip.
“I’m still telling the medics about you not sleeping,” he muttered.
“Yeah, and I’ll tell ‘em about your hand,” Wolffe said.
They’d reached the sleeping quarters and Boba reached for the control panel, wanting to cut the conversation off as quickly as possible.
“Sleep well, ad’ika,” Wolffe said quietly.
Boba blinked, swallowing hard. He hadn’t heard that word since before Geonosis. Wolffe moved past him into the darkened room and Boba followed, scrunching his face against the emotions threatening to rise to the surface. Normally he could start an argument or punch something, but here, among all the sleeping troopers, he couldn’t do anything at all.
Climbing into his bunk, he closed his eyes, willing sleep to come so he could stop feeling. Above him, Comet groggily mumbled something about not being able to get a decent night’s sleep anymore; Boba ignored him and forced himself to take slow breaths. As he relaxed, a dear face came to mind and he heard the words again.
“Sleep well, ad’ika.”
Boba gave up. He could hit Wolffe as much as he wanted during his drills tomorrow, but for tonight, he let himself imagine that the commander’s voice had been the one he wanted to hear.
taglist 💕 @jedi-mando @a-mediocre-succulent @iscream4clones @passionofthesith @nelba @dom-i-nic @just-some-girl-92 @jyvorakal @my-awakened-ghost @majorshiraharu @alderaani @battletales @halzore @ahsoka-is-the-bomb-dot-com @clonewarslover55 @neurodiverse-clones @anstarwar @lussyyung @gospelofme @simping-for-fives @threetinyshinies @peacefulwizardfox @sacred-things @eries45 @frecklelemonade @teddiebuns
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Wolffe: [Showing picture of Boost and Sinker] Excuse me, but have you seen these dumbasses?
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Summary: (N.) An awareness of the universe that triggers feelings too deep and mysterious for words
The galaxy is wide and awe inspiring. Now that the War is over, Rex can take time to enjoy it and learn a bit as well.
Additional Notes: Read on AO3
this one doesn’t have as much gender conversation but like. there is some there. but mostly just appreciating the value of life and Rex learning about things and being relaxed
Inspired off of this post by @rustic-space-fiddle because its beautiful and Im in love
It was safe to say that Rex had no idea why he was where he was at the moment.
Standing behind Ahsoka as she pressed her face against the transparisteel of a tank, gazing at the brightly colored fish that swam too and fro with Master Bultar Swan next to her while Fox and Wolffe read through some sort of flimsi pamphlet as they walked down another hall, the recently-freed Boba on Wolffe’s shoulders. Fordo and two of his fellow ARCs— Wise, with her hair tied back into a short pony-tail and Pip with their hair done up similarly— were on the far end of the room, looking at some sort of eel-like creature.
Rex had never been to an Aquarium before, he didn’t even know those existed when General— no— Master Fisto had explained what they were on the way over. The War hadn’t allowed for any of them to really do any of those “high-class leisure activities”— as Fox had put it when he had asked the redheaded trooper if he knew what an aquarium was.
Still, it was... interesting, Rex supposed, as Boost and Sinker both ran past, pulling Wooley behind them as she gazed around in bewilderment and awe. Rex was currently standing in a large, circular room with halls branching off to different areas, he supposed. In the center was a large tank full of a fake reef and all sorts of fish, which was what Ahsoka was looking at now, with Master Swan.
In truth, Rex knew next to nothing about the dark-haired Jedi, and he also wasn’t super familiar with Master Plo Koon and Master Kit Fisto— who had been the ones to bring them all here in the first place.
Rex turned as Master Koon stepped up next to him.
“Enjoying yourself, so far, Rex?” Master Koon asked, hands folded and hidden within his sleeves. Rex shrugged.
“It’s nice,” he admitted, “But, sir, I’m quite confused on why exactly I’m here.”
The Kel Dor hummed, inclining his head just a bit before he responded. “It does seem like a puzzle, doesn’t it?” he mused, and Rex noticed his tusks flexing just slightly through his mask. “Aside from matters of the War, neither you nor I have had much interaction."
“I didn’t know you knew the Muunilinst 10, either, sir," he added and Master Koon chuckled.
“Voolvif knows them, they had offered him the position of their General a few weeks after he joined the 104th,” he told him, “But Voolvif declined. Either way, we have all talked more than once. Fordo was the one who came to me about Wise and Pip, after all.”
Rex nodded slowly.
It had started out as a secret among the Vode, about the so-called defected Clones who didn’t see themselves as brothers. But no one was sure what to do about it. There had been a rumor that a handful of vode in the 104th had gotten riled when someone had called another ‘he’ but no one paid much attention to it.
Then Fox came back from the Senators’ Gala, usually tired eyes bright with determination. And like a wildfire through hushed whispers and encoded messages, the facts spread through the GAR. High General Plo Koon could answer any questions, could help you if you needed it, and he wouldn't think anything different of you— wouldn't send you to be Decommissioned.
Wooley had been the first to go to the General, and come back with a lighter walk in her step, according to Cody.
The rumor was that Wise had been next, revealing the reason why Fordo was so viciously protective of the Muunilinst 10's second in commands.
A slip in the cloning process had given the rather lithe ARC two X-chromosomes instead of the standard XY that the rest of them had— and she had been set to be decommissioned at the beginning. Fordo had saved her himself, the rather frightening Alpha and ARC Trooper making sure the Kaminoans trained her like all the rest before bringing her into what would become the Muunilinst 10.
After Wise had been Pip, their fluidity coming to light and even though Wooley was accepted without a question— she was 212 after all— both Wise and Pip had been met with some slight confusion. And Fordo had been near-feral the first and only time someone had suggested that his two seconds were anything other than exemplary— after all, who had it been to push back the Butcher of Hypori and rescue Ki-Adi Mundi, Shaak Ti, and Aayla Secura?
Still, slowly, more and more of the vode were shifting around. Slowly transferring to the 104th, and in return, some of the 104th would switch to the other battalions.
But Rex hadn’t known much about that. He and Cody had conversed before talking to Wolffe, before they began to sign off on transfer papers, making up excuses to their Generals because the vode came first no matter what. But that was the most he was involved with it.
He didn’t know much about General Koon aside from what was general knowledge back then and he still didn’t— aside from the fact that he happened to know the Muunilinst 10, which Rex just learned.
“It’s nice to see Wooley having fun,” Rex chose to say in response and Master Koon nodded.
“She’s much brighter now that the war is over,” he agreed as Master Swan and Ahsoka moved to another tank within the large room. “Have you gone around and seen everything, yet? I brought Ahsoka here once before with her Crèche group before the War, and Bultar during her Padawanship with me— and Kit has brought all of his Padawans to various aquariums as well. This would be the first time for you and your brothers, correct?”
Rex shifted, glancing around a bit. “I’m alright,” he told the Jedi. “You know, with just following Ahsoka around.”
The Kel Dor gave him a look before he looked back over to where the two other Jedi were. He seemed to be thinking before he gently placed a hand on Rex’s shoulder. “Walk with me?”
“Sure, sir,” he said with a shrug before he fell in step with the tall Kel Dor as he walked out of the main chamber. Rex glanced around, seeing a few tanks full of other fish in the walls, blinking. There was one with some sort of furry animal swimming around in it and Rex almost didn’t notice Master Koon’s gait slowing to match with his instead of the other way around.
“Are all these animals from this planet?” he asked after a moment and Master Koon hummed, the noise reverberating in the mostly empty hall.
“Not all of them,” he told him, “A good majority were rescued from a now dying planet on the very edge of the galaxy.”
Rex was about to respond before the two of them stepped out into another large room, bathed in blue light and his breath was taken away suddenly.
The entire wall was taken up by the largest tank he had ever seen, a large reef replication covering the rocks as tons of fish and other sea creatures swam through the it. It looked like he had been plunged right into the clearest sea he had ever seen, the blue expanse looking like it was going on forever and ever and he had begun to walk before he realized it— walking down from the tiered flooring until he was right in front of the transparisteel.
Slowly, Rex placed a hand against the transparisteel, gazing down. The floor fell away inside the tank, going deeper and he could see flickers of brightly colored fish down there as well.
A reptilian animal swam past, with four flippers, a beak-like face, and some sort of shell on its back, a second one joining it from below.
“Whoa...” he breathed and Master Koon stepped up next to him, hands still in his robe’s sleeves.
“Quite spectacular, isn’t it?” he murmured and Rex nodded mutely.
Truthfully, there weren’t any words to describe it. It was beautiful, wondrous, spectacular, awe-inspiring, and everything in between.
A pair of the largest fish he had ever seen swam past, their blue bodies spotted with white and gray and moving side to side in a graceful manner. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“What are those?” he asked softly and the Kel Dor chuckled a bit.
“I believe on Terra they’re called Whale Sharks,” he mused, “Unfortunately, we don’t know much more about them than the Terrans do, despite them coming from that planet. They’re gentle creatures, the largest of Terra’s fish still in existence, but their numbers are dwindling at an alarming rate. That is why the owners of this aquarium were contacted by some animal activists for assistance.”
Rex frowned, brows furrowed. “Why are their numbers shrinking, sir? Surely, if was a diet issue, something could be figured out.”
“If only it were a diet issue,” General Fisto’s voice said form behind them and Rex startled, but still, he couldn’t tear his eyes from the graceful whale sharks over head. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Nautolan— sans cloak, but what could he expect from the infamous Kit Fisto— walk down and over to them, easily sliding into place at Master Koon’s side. Like Fox and Wolffe had said, though, as soon as the two were next to each other, Master Fisto had wrapped an arm around the Kel Dor, this time over his shoulders.
“The humans of Terra have a horrible habit of killing off their planet, between polluting, poaching, and deforestation. These large beauties are dwindling because of people hunting them for their fins.”
“Their fins?” Rex questioned and Fisto nodded, scowling.
“They fish them up, cut off all their fins— pectoral, pelvic, dorsal, anal, and caudal— and then toss them back into the sea.”
He felt something twist in his gut. “Still alive?”
Master Koon made a deep and disgruntled noise in the back of his throat as Master Fisto hissed in anger. “Usually, yes,” the Kel Dor rumbled and Rex’s scowl matched the one that Wolffe normally wore.
“Money,” Master Fisto stated simply, tresses wriggling angrily. “Money and a disregard for life.”
Rex frowned at that. “Even after all this war?”
Master Koon hummed a bit. “Terra was not part of the Republic or Separatists, too much work on both ends to even think about bringing them into either, I suppose. Though Senator Feng certainly had their own take on it. But yes, even after all this time.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Not everyone on Terra is the same, but a general disregard for life can be seen in those who are in positions of power. It’s quite... disgruntling.”
“It upsets you so much, sirs?” Rex asked, tilting his head.
“I’m a Nautolan, Rex,” Master Fisto chuckled. “I care about the seas and aquatic quite a bit.”
Master Koon chuckled as well before gently reaching over and putting a hand on Rex’s shoulder again. “The Jedi are taught to respect and revere all life, no matter the form. We take what we need and leave the rest,” he told him, “But it is a little bit different for the Kel Dor.”
That was certainly an interesting statement. He tilted his head. “What do you mean by that, sir?”
“That reverence for life is taken to another level, almost. The weather on Dorin is very powerful and relatively unpredictable. Buildings on the surface are prepared to withstand violent storms, but it wasn’t always like that,” the Jedi explained as the fish and other animals swam past them. “Dorin is, was, and will most likely always be a harsh planet to live on, until one or both of the black holes that surround it swallow it whole. In the ancient days, before technology, many lives were lost because of dangerous weather phenomena. Life on Dorin is precious because of how harsh had been, and still is. Even now, there are many deaths due to weather and sickness. In our Clans, we all celebrate when life is brought into the world, and as a whole, the Kel Dor abhor senseless killings, especially of innocent creatures.”
Rex tilted his head again, mulling over the Kel Dor’s words before he nodded. “I think I understand,” he said, “Well, the respecting life part and how it’s important, that is.” He blinked then, glancing over. “Is that part of why you keep adopting my brothers and other children? Because of your people's stance on life?”
Master Koon chuckled again at that. “Perhaps that is part of it,” he mused. “It is very difficult for a Kel Dor to bear two or more children, and we admittedly do not know why. Our healers suspect that it is simply a byproduct of how we evolved, though there is a legend. The premise is about how the first child born to the Kel Dor people took part of their parents' Life Spirits in order to be born, we say that unless the bearer has an exceptionally strong life-force, the soul of a child knows that it’s not their time to come into the world should that bearer already be missing part of their Life Spirit.”
He shook his head, quite possibly smiling from under his mask. “It is an old story, but many believe in it.”
“Do you, Sir?” Rex asked and the Jedi shrugged a bit.
“My sister bore three, which was quite a shock. She was not always in the best of health, and for the longest time Sha was her only child. A part of me is skeptical over the story because of it,” he said calmly but hummed. “Though I have yet to bear any children myself. Perhaps when I return to Dorin to visit my sister and her children that remain with her, I shall ask if she felt any shift in the Spirits when Kepp or Mir were born.”
Rex felt heat crawl up his cheeks for a moment. “I— sir? You can bear children?”
Master Fisto laughed and Master Koon looked amused enough, so Rex wasn’t exactly worried about having said anything offensive.
“All Kel Dor can both bear and sire children,” Master Koon said simply. “When the new Code is instated, I will return to Dorin to see about how much of a toll the war took on my body before anything else happens, however.”
“Huh.” Rex tilted his head back, gazing up at the fish again. “Is that why you’re so comfortable with...” he made a hand motion. “The vode who come to you with questions? Because the gender divide is... less obvious?”
“In part yes, though there is much more I can explain at a later date,” came the response as voices echoed down the hall. Rex turned, raising a hand to Wise, Fordo, and Pip as the three of them walked in. Pip’s eyes lit up ad they gazed at the large tank in front of them and Rex caught the fond look that Fordo gave one of his two second-in-commands. Wise’s smile was just as bright as she loped down the steps, Fordo and Pip after her.
“Plo-Buir, this is where you vanished to,” she said, and Rex recognized the glint in her eyes— Fives and Echo had that same look more often than not. “Thought you and Master Kit had gone off to a supply closet somewhere.”
That had Master Fisto roaring with laughter as Fordo and Pip smacked their sister on the back of the head and Plo turned, giving Rex a long-suffering look and Rex just held his hands up.
“Can’t help you there, sir,” he said with a grin as the rest of their group started to join them. “Wise’s name comes from Wisecrack after all.”
“No it doesn’t, don’t give her that much power, kid!”
“Hah! No, he’s right Fordo!“
"Wise, I named you, I would know if it was."
I ended up sorta basing this one off of the Atlanta Aquarium that I visited a while ago on a band trip. It’s honestly amazing there. And so obviously uhhh Earth animals. Labeled as “Terra’
Also uhhhhhhh I love the M10 and they all deserve the world. The M10 will get some more writing time later 👀
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Sinker, solemnly: Do you know why I challenged you to this duel?
Boost: For me to stop making puns?
Sinker: Yes. I once considered you my brother, I didn’t want it to end like this… but the puns need to stop.
Boost: It really is the duality of man-
Sinker: [shoots Boost instantly]
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Boost: Since when were curtains flammable?
Sinker, putting the fire out: Since always Boost! Curtains have always been flammable!
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What Once Was, Now Moving Forwards
Fandom(s): Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Star Wars: The Expanded Universe, The Mandalorian
Rating: T (Swearing, Canon-Typical Violence, Moff Gideon (derogatory))
Summary: Bo-Katan was right when she told The Mandalorian that there was a Jedi on Corvus… she just got the name entirely wrong, and thus forgot to mention that this Jedi happened to have a pack of wolves that followed after him.
Notes: Alternative Universe, Heavily AU and Headcanon Heavy, Some Major Figures Survived Order 66! AU
Nav: 6/? || <Prev | Next > || Start || AO3
Chapter 6: The Story of a Nautolan
A very fast update speed because I am very stupid and did this instead of my work for class
Kit had gone with Mace to either subdue Palpatine or die trying. And for a horrible moment, Kit was certain it was going to be the latter.
But it wasn't.
He had woken up after blacking out from a near-fatal wound on the floor of Palpatine's office, organs one jostle away from falling out from the burned away flesh and the corpse of Saesee Tiin by his hand. The pain had been rather intense, and on instinct he had blocked off all bonds he had made through the force, praying to the Force and the deep sea gods that he wasn't too late.
(He had been, though, he knew deep down as the Force screamed out with so many deaths.)
Agen had been alive, in shock and also unconscious, but alive. Kit had grabbed Saesee's saber, hauled Agen over one of his shoulders, scooped up his and Agen's sabers before high-tailing it out of the Senate building. Or at least, moving as fast as he could with a grown Zabrak on one shoulder and the other arm holding his organs in place.
The said injury would end up not being a clean heal, and his internal organs had taken their fair share of trauma because of it. But it had healed. It healed and Kit was alive and that's what had mattered in the long run.
The next few days had been wrought with danger between avoiding Clones (that hurt almost as much as the physical injury Palpatine had inflicted on him) and collecting the lightsabers of the fallen while doing his absolute best to give them a proper burial.
Kit had snuck into the temple through the water pipes and stolen medical supplies, along with anything else he could safely carry through before slipping back out. He had collected Cin's lightsaber, avoided more troopers, and dragged the body of his Linage-brother into the tombs for a proper burial.
When Agen was stable enough, the Zabrak had done the same with Mace's once they found it in the lower levels of Coruscant. Kit let Agen keep a hold of the man's saber, he already had Cin's on his hip. By all means, they should've been put in the Halls of the Fallen but… tradition was broken now, after all.
The two of them stayed on Coruscant for as long as they could risk, both knowing that they had no way to possibly win against Palpatine. But they buried as many bodies as they could before snagging a few holocrons and datapads each from the Archives, a set of secure comlink codes, and parting ways.
Days later the signal from the temple stopped. They had barely missed Kenobi and Yoda. And Agen met up with Voolvif in Wild Space, Kit would later learn. Voolvif had survived by giving in to his instincts, he had killed the Muunilist 10 that had been with him singlehandedly. The blood was still wet on his teeth, Agen had said and Voolvif carried parts of their armor with him still. Had Fordo's helmet somewhere.
Kit would also learn that it had been Voolvif's extensive list of contacts he had in Wild Space along with Agen's all through Hutt Space and the Outer Rim that had been what saved Agen in the end. A doctor and mechanic willing to give him a metallic heart replacement, and then the Zabrak was practically back to his prime state. The two stayed together as they all continued, freeing slaves and already fighting back against the Empire.
Kit, on the other hand, had continued onwards without a goal in sight. Alone.
And when he finally reached out with the Force, searching, looking for anyone he was still connected with all he found was an empty void.
The rustling grasses where Shaak's presence would have been had been burned down to nothing.
The rumbling of a ship where Saesee had been was cut to silence in front of him.
The low thrum of the earth where Mace was had fractured before falling away.
Kenobi's bright point was still there, but he dared not touch it, and for a moment he had felt the wingbeats and winds from Bultar and Sha but… then nothing.
The slow yet careful waters from Bant had been stopped and the low heartbeat from Lissarkh had been reduced to dead quiet.
Aayla's lively signature shut down.
Ki-Adi's steady presence torn away.
Luminara snuffed out like a candle.
Depa and Stass fading into oblivion.
Jaro crumbling to dust.
The once millions of voices where the Clones had settled in the back of his mind had gone silent, the only words that reverberated in his head when he made any attempts to reach out were "Good Soldiers Follow Orders" and he had jerked away quickly.
Old Fey Koon's steady storm had vanished to nothing more than rain, but he was untraceable. The same with the pulsing thrum from Oppo Rancicis. The connection with Eeth had been broken when he was removed from the Order, and…
And the strong ripple of calm that belonged to Plo wasn't there. There wasn't a hidden storm under peace, there was no lightning that sparked within the Force when he reached out… there was nothing.
Kit hadn't known at the time that Plo had slipped so deep into grief that Sinker and Comet were keeping him on sedatives and sleeping for the most part. Dreamless. He had believed that he had died too and…
He didn't like to admit it but he had slipped then, fallen into darkness and anger, into hurt, sorrow, and pain, and took it all out on any enemies he could find. He pushed himself to the brink many times, unable to die but unwilling to stay safe. He had thought about facing Palpatine as he tore through the remainder of the droids— and through clones, brainwashed and seeing him as nothing more than an enemy. Without their paint, though, who were they? When he stopped to take the helmet off of one of the bodies, he didn't recognize them, their heads all shaved. Some were tattooed, but he couldn't place them.
The darkness in him rose and ebbed, flowing and always on the edge of his signature.
If Voolvif and Agen were bothered by his state when they met up every so often, they didn't say anything about it. But every time they would pull him back from the pit if he got too far. And he would do the same for them when they neared the edge.
For thirteen years, Kit continued, wavering and slipping and stumbling through the light and dark with Agen and Voolvif hauling him back each time, sometimes just barely and they had to separate in order to give Kit the time to calm down. To return to the light in his own way.
It had been thirteen long years of fighting the Empire on a small scale, striking hard and fast before vanishing off of Vader's radar.
Thirteen years without Plo before suddenly— suddenly Ahsoka Tano had found him. She had been chasing rumors, looking for someone, or something. Neither of them had trusted the other at first, Kit had been so drenched in darkness at the time, blood on his hands still wet.
But she had watched as the darkness that stemmed from his Shii-Cho receded and he cleaned his hands.
She had urged him to reach out for Plo, assuring him that he was still alive. And Kit hadn't believed her at first, but with her prompting, he had reached out with the Force, searching, following the tattered connections he had made and—
The distant rumble of thunder.
Kit had taken off to Tatooine, picked Agen and Voolvif up, and followed the storm.
Wolffe had open-fired on him when they arrived, not believing that they were who they had said they were.
He would've done the same if Plo's safety was on the line.
But Plo... oh, his hearts had seized when he saw him exit the old temple on Tython.
Their reunion had been tense and emotional, and something between the two of them and the two of them alone. After the anger, the hurt, the pain had been released, the need to just be together had taken over and they had fallen into Plo's quarters.
Kit had traced the burn scars that spread across Plo's torso and scarred his remaining arm, traced the scars where his cybernetic port connected against his shoulder, where metal had imbedded into his sides and left a spattering of marks against the ritual scarring that was already there.
The Kel Dor had touched his face, thumb tracing the scars from shrapnel, metal, and stone that had marred him over the years, and had ghosted his touch across the twisted scar that went from hip to stomach, brows furrowed despite Kit's assurances that he was fine— The wound had healed the best it could, and it still ached every so often, but that was the best he could ask for.
And if they woke in a tangle of limbs, hands grasping onto each other in the throughs of nightmares, and if blood spattered the bedsheets and their hands from gripping onto each other too tightly when morning came, neither of them made a comment.
None of them left Tython for a long time after that. Not Agen, not Voolvif, not the Vode, Plo, not him. They basked in the feeling that was relief— relief of finding their family once again.
There were holes in their family where important figures would've been, though.
There was no Shaak Ti to act like a motherly figure to the Vod. There was no Sha, rolling her eyes behind her goggles at her 'cousins' many antics. No Bultar to pull Agen into the odd family they made, no Lissarkh for the Zabrak to start scuffles with. No Mace to roll his eyes or join in on the Elder Jedi's antics because he finally could with no more weight of being the Head of the Order on his shoulders. And The hundreds of bodies from the 104th, 272nd, the Swan, Rift, and Glade Companies were all gone— dead or worse, they didn't know— and Ahsoka only existed on the edges of their senses and in holo communications…
There were parts missing. But by the little gods, they were there and alive and together.
When they finally returned to fighting against the Empire, Kit's blood sang as he fell back into the familiar steps of battle alongside Plo. Things weren't the same, of course, but they were making it work.
(Kit had learned from Comet one night after asking him why only Warthog and Jag flew that Plo didn't fly anymore, couldn't fly a ship anymore, and if Kit held Plo a bit tighter that night, Plo didn't say anything, just nestled closer into his hold. The Empire succeeded In one thing at least— they had clipped his wings. And if Plo noticed Kit slipping into the dark as they tore down an Empire's fortress the next day, he didn't say anything.)
No, things weren't the same, despite the 'peace' that the New Republic had given them all when the Empire fell. All of them had done things they hadn't wanted to, killed people that they hadn't wanted to, fought fights that wrapped them in darkness. There was no way to return to the time before the Order fell.
But that was in the past.
Days ago, when Plo had called him on the way back from Corvus, Kit wasn't sure what he was expecting upon their arrival back home. He had known that Plo and the 'Pack had taken up Ahsoka's call for help in tracking down anyone who knew about Grand Admiral Thrawn, and they had gotten their job done. They had passed the information onto Ahsoka, but well…
A Mandalorian and a Force-sensitive youngling wasn't exactly something he had expected to be returning with them from Corvus.
But part of him was filled with relief. Relief for Plo because he was slowly returning to himself after all these years, opening himself back up to making new connections instead of keeping those they met at an arms-length— like the Rebels and those of the New Republic. It had been a long twenty-five years.
The Mandalorian, Din Djarin, was about as cautious and careful as the other Mandalorians he had met before— as few as they were— but he had given him his name, and trusted Plo. That was more than enough for Kit to agree on helping oversee Wolffe and the vode's lessons on basic Republic history that they were going to give Djarin— who apparently had very little information on that time.
It wasn't really surprising, to be fair— Djarin would've been a child when the end of the Wars happened, when Order 66 had been enacted. And the Empire hadn't been very forthcoming with Republic Era information that wasn't propaganda.
But the boys were doing quite well, Comet seemed to have most of the basic overview figured out as they sat in a field near the old temple. Kit was settled on a rock not far from them, cleaning Cin's lightsaber as he listened.
Comet and Wildfire were giving Djarin a basic overview, just so that he had a grasp on the timeline of the Clone Wars before they all actually jumped into the dates, battles, and details. Meanwhile, Warthog, Jag, and Sinker were back down where they had moved the Mandalorian's ship, fixing up what they could, and Wolffe and Boost were patrolling the area.
Plo had taken Grogu up to the top of the temple, having told him that the first thing he needed to do was teach the child to lower the shields he had created. Neither of them had met the child while he had been in the temple, despite the fact that Plo was often helping with crèche duty, so they didn't exactly know what he had learned during his time there.
But if Plo needed him to help, he would call for him through their bond or through the com.
Comet was just starting to begin on the overview on the second battle of Geonosis when a shift in the Force made him look up. His com blinked and he tapped it once.
"What's up there, Wolffe?" he asked, eyes still looking to the sky, scanning and looking for anything out of place.
"A ship's coming in fast, Kit," came the former Commander's voice. "Boost and I are coming back to the temple, he's telling Buir the same thing. Probably should get the kid into the tunnels."
Kit's eyes flickered up to where the Seeing Stone was. A strong Force presence that wasn't Plo was radiating from up there. At the same time, he saw a familiar ship land in the valley below.
"I'm afraid we might not be able to do that, not in time at least," he said as he stood, "Make your way up by your Buir and the kid, I'll send the Mandalorian and your brothers up to you as well. I will meet our uninvited guests."
He hopped off of the rock, signaling to Comet and the dark-haired man nodded, standing and hauling his brothers to their feet.
"I'll com Sinker and tell him to stay put for now," Wolffe agreed. "K'oyacyi, fish-face."
"And may the Force be with you, Wolffe," he said in return as the Clones pulled Mando into the shadows of the rocks, easily slipping up to the Seeing Stone and Kit turned his com off. He pulled his hood over his head, making his way down towards the ship that was resting in the valley.
He knew that ship. Of course he did, and he knew Plo must have recognized it as a gentle pulse of caution was sent through their link. He gently sent a pulse of reassurance back as he walked down towards the ship. A dark figure had departed while he had been talking to Wolffe, and his hands moved towards the two lightsabers from under his cloak.
His tresses twitched and with practiced ease and the twin buzzes of lightsabers, he blocked an oncoming barrage of blaster fire.
Once the smoke cleared, he lowered the two green blades but kept them in a defensive position as a hooded figure stepped up over the rocks.
"That's hardly a way to greet someone," he said, deactivating one but keeping the other one up. "Tell me, what brings you to Tython?"
"I have been tracking the Mandalorian you keep in your midst," the figure said and Kit's tresses flicked under his hood. Well, that accent was certainly familiar.
Kit sheathed his second blade, lowering his arms and returning them back into his cloak as he inclined his head a bit.
"I see," he said simply, "Are you also hunting the Child he had with him?"
The figure reached up, hesitant for a moment before he removed his hood. And that just confirmed it. The ship, the face, the time frame.
"I'm here for the armor."
"The Mandalorian's?" he asked. "Or someone else's?"
The man before him snorted. "I don't want his armor," he said, tone flat. "I want my own, that he got from Cobb Vanth back on Tatooine."
The name didn't ring a bell to Kit, but he avoided Tatooine. And Mustafar. And Hoth. And Khorm— usually. Besides the point, though and Kit shifted, putting his weight onto one foot as he let out a sigh.
"What's stopping me from stopping you?" he asked, raising a brow from under his hood.
The man tilted his head towards the ridge to Kit's left. "Because I have a sharpshooter up on that ridge with a locked scope that will unload by the time my body hits the ground," he told him before his lips twitched upwards into an almost-sneer. "And a Jedi wouldn't kill a man without his weapon."
Kit narrowed his eyes. Of course, he had felt the second presence up on the ridge, it wasn't as if they had masked themselves to the Force.
"I've been hit with worse," he said simply before he activated his sabers again. "And I may carry lightsabers, but I am no Jedi."
"I never said that she was going to shoot you," the other said simply. "My friend's locked onto those men and that companion of yours up on the henge."
"And I don't miss," the sniper added but Kit just twitched.
'Plo, sniper on the ridge, be prepared to deflect any blaster bolts,' he warned through their bond and there was a small burst of worry from Plo, but he felt the acknowledgment before he gazed at the sniper.
"Point the gun away from my sons and my husband," he warned her, his polite neutral tone falling away to an icy cold one. "Or I'll kill you both where you stand, Fett."
The man, Boba Fett, held a hand up in a show of peace, though the tension around him was suddenly coiled tight, waiting to snap. "Let's all put our weapons down, have a chat. There's no need for bloodshed."
He tilted his head towards the sniper. "Tell her to drop the gun."
"After you put down those sabers of yours."
Kit was still before he deactivated them, tossing one to the ground and hooking the other back into his belt.
The sniper made her way down to them and Fett removed one of his blasters, setting it down on the ground. Kit reached up, pulling his hood back and shaking his tresses out as the woman stopped next to Fett and he raised a brow. He recognized that face.
"If I recall, both of you should be dead by now," he said, "Fennec Shand, Boba Fett."
"Surprised you even know about someone like me, mister not-a-Jedi," Fennec said and he just gave her a wryly smile.
"We all do what we must to survive," he told her before gazing at Fett. "I heard you fell into a Sarlacc pit. Congratulations on not dying."
Fett's face was neutral still, but he was tense again, eyeing him warily. Kit brought his com to his lips.
"Explorer, tell the Mandalorian he's needed down here, and tell him to bring the Commander and Starshine with him," he said casually then turning it off before Plo could answer.
He then crossed his arms, tilting his head back and gazing down at the once dead Bounty Hunter and Assassin before the sound of jetpacks reached his ears. Wolffe dropped down from the sky, teeth most likely bared behind his helmet and he saw Boba stiffen. Comet followed after, shoulders squared and blaster in hand before Din landed.
"I was under the impression that all Clones turned on their Jedi, unless you scavenged armor?" Boba mused, though his tone had a bite in it and Wolffe growled.
"Commander," Kit warned and he stopped growling, but the eldest of the Pack's hackles remained raised. Comet was also stiff, anger radiating off of him as Kit motioned for Din to move forwards.
"He's here for you, my armored friend," he told him and Din just nodded. "For the armor."
"He'll have to take it off my dead body," Din growled and Boba looked like he wanted to roll his eyes.
"Not yours," he said, tone flat again. "I want my armor that you got from Cobb Vanth back on Tatooine. It belongs to me."
Kit leaned back as Din tilted his head, hand down by his blaster as he studied Boba in front of him. If he recognized his face or not, who knew? Boba was, physically, years older than the rest of the vod. And no offense to him, but Din could be rather unobservant at times.
"Are you Mandalorian?" Din asked, seeming wary and Boba just inclined his head.
"I'm a simple man making his way through the galaxy. Like my father before me."
Kit suppressed a snort at that.
Certainly, Jango had made his way through the galaxy, killing Jedi along the way.
Nearly killing Obi-Wan. Having a hand in the slaughterhouse that had been Geonosis. The fight that had killed Master, Knight, and Padawan alike. Jango had killed Master Trebor— killed the man whose seat he became the successor to.
Killed the man who could've stopped the Clone Wars before it started— stopped the wars, the blood, the pain, death, sorrow. Stopped the genocide of the Jedi— the children who were killed by Skywalker and gunned down by the 501st. Who could've stopped the destruction of Alderaan, who could have put a stop to everything if he hadn't been shot by Jango—
A gentle pulse from atop the temple soothed the budding darkness in his chest and he took a deep breath.
"I want my armor back," Boba was saying as Kit returned from calming himself down internally. Din shook his head.
"It goes against the Mandalorian Creed."
Boba shifted, a spike of ire radiating off of him. "The armor was given to my father, Jango, by your forebears. In exchange, I guarantee the safety of the Child, as well as your own."
Fennec nodded, shifting and crossing her arms. "The bounty on your little friend has risen significantly. You can buy ten suits of armor for the price on its head. Running with some former Troopers and a not-a-Jedi is nice, but there's only so much they can do."
"I'd say we're offering a fair deal under the circumstances," Boba added and Kit's tresses twitched. Another shift in the force and he looked up, eyes zeroing on a ship flying in overhead.
"Time's up," Wolffe growled, drawing his blasters and Kit hit his com.
"Plo, we gotta get going now," he said, calling his lightsaber back to his hand.
"I'm afraid that's not possible at the moment," Came the tense voice of Plo from Kit's com. "The child is still in a trance, removing him would cause more damage to his psyche than I would be able to mend."
Kit cursed before glancing at Din and the others. Din nodded slowly before Kit looked to Boba, holding his gaze. The bounty hunter didn't move for a while, but then he nodded as well.
"We'll buy as much time as we can," he told the Kel Dor before he turned, shedding his cloak and making his way down the ridge with Fennec and Boba. Wolffe joined them not a second later with Comet and Din.
"Wildfire is staying up with, Buir," Wolffe said as they took up positions behind the rocks, watching as the ship landed. "The rest are going to provide cover fire up higher."
Kit nodded, eyes narrowing as the ship's boarding ramp lowered and a platoon of Stormtroopers exited. He clapped the man on the shoulder.
"K'oyacyi, Wolffe," he said, before he leaped over the rocks. Fennec shot the first one to appear, but with twin flashes of green, Kit had struck down the next two.
The troopers stopped short in front of him, unsure what to do, and Kit just grinned, teeth flashing and he saw a few take a half step back as they leveled their blasters at him.
"Welcome to Tython, my friends! Your stay is going to be relatively short, I'm afraid, we happen to quite dislike unexpected visitors."
Just for the record, I would’ve saved Cin if I could but there’s no way to have been able to get that done. Agen and Kit I can manage because of actual biological and theory reasons, but we straight-up saw Vader yeet Cin. I miss Cin.
K'oyacyi — "Cheers!" Can also mean "Hang in there" or "Come back safely."; literally a command: "Stay alive!" In this case, it’s the last one.
Are Zabrak hearts one on top of the other or are they just not aligned? I don't know but for the sake of P l o t they’re not against one another. According to legends Nautolans also have multiple hearts? Like damn okay, sir.
Cin AND Kit were from Yoda’s linage and that’s not talked enough about. I don't remember if Kit had another master next to Yoda, but I know he was trained under him.
Cybernetics are a little bit like Automail, right? right??? There’s a port, right???? (there is now)
Also, we salute you, Master Trebor. you did your best.
I also recently realized that Jag isn't a captain but a commander? and that he commanded the 127th but like. That's not gonna change anything about this story though.
In certain situations where identities aren’t to be known, the Tython Crew has code names.
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