#certain slightly disorienting but mostly fleeting moments

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

watching a bit of that scene start of 12x5 where shes looking for the master and wow it just really sank in for me how different of a companion experience the fam had. she says she goes home [dramatic pause] on her own and yaz asks “why? why not with us?”

rose: first date martha: Weird Melodramatic Bullshit on her second trip donna: first meeting amy: ...i dont...actually remember oh im disappointing myself here. but by episode two she knows hes so very old and so very kind and the very very last of his kind and he cant stand and watch children cry clara: we’ve got that whole death in heaven/last christmas fiasco bill: “bill, missy, the Other Last Of The Time Lords”

they dont know!! they dont know what Home means!! this has been like the idk the fucking mud we stand on for all new who!! and They Dont Know

it’s- it’s WILD putting myself in their shoes their idea of The Doctor is so vastly different from any other new who companion. it really really is. like if they meet a previous regeneration sure they’ll recognise the Doctorness. but like, different trauma. it’s really weird

like, for all previous new who companions the doctor is like, their Friend (you know, special Friend status it’s always a bit Different, how do you explain your relationship with the doctor as a companion well youknow, theyre your Friend, anyway) their Friend who is Lonely and Hurt and Shouldnt Travel Alone, and who has such impressive admirable ideals and needs someone to keep them to them, appreciates the people who can, appreciates the people who share them. and theyre a bit mysterious sure but information will trickle out, when it’s relevant, such a long life you wouldnt expect them to share it all at once

to the fam the doctor is more like, their Friend who likes her privacy, who keeps her doors closed and her distance, but who loves showing you around the universe. she appreciates your input the way a tour guide appreciates an engaged audience, but you dont touch the things youre not supposed to touch. you leave that to the professionals. she’ll show you around. dont go poke at things yourself and get in trouble.

other new who companions would see the doctor be stupid and smack them over the head verbally, physically, spiritually, whatever way necessary to say “dont be fucking stupid”. you dont go around smacking your tour guide. there are boundaries.

she doesnt tell them about her life and they cant ask more than is polite. they cant sit down on an alien planet and go “im not moving until you talk to me properly”. like, yaz probably can. i think during s12 it’s iffy and it’s complicated by the fact that the doctor is Not Okay which also affects the boundaries in yet another direction. but s11 they really couldnt do that.

they dont know how old she is. it never comes up. for all they know she looks her age. they dont know why she looks human. they dont know where she got the tardis from. they couldnt do what amy did in the beast below because they knew the doctor so well. they couldnt do what donna did in fires of pompeii and put their hands on the button. they couldnt do what clara did in death in heaven and bluff their way out of getting shot by cyberman by rattling of the doctor’s biography. not through any fault of their own, the fam couldnt do Any of that.

and it’s not like thats new information to me, some of my first posts on here were about passenger vs companion status and what the fam knows but i guess it just Hit me suddenly? how different their view of the doctor is compared to previous new who companions.

“why? why not with us?”

are we not friends enough yet that you could let us into your life a bit more? are we not friends enough yet that we’re allowed to know where youre from?

she DISAPPEARS. they have no idea where to. im assuming during s11 they were together most of the time? the fam dont seem to get home much at least. can we assume she didnt just disappear then sometimes? if she did it wouldve been rarer i think. i cant honestly say that i cant see her do it. once every couple of weeks. just go somewhere quiet and stare into space and come back barely missed and ready to go another few weeks. she’d probably have very plausible reasons. like 10 and donna in midnight. you go lounge around by the pool im going on this tour. probably enough opportunities for stuff like that where she could without suspicion disappear for a few hours.

but then youre getting an idea. youre getting an idea of a life of a person who seems like they dont have much going on except for what you share. theyre with you basically all the time. they dont mention any other attachments (ha funny i hurt myself), friends, family, home. and they mention enough other things that the white noise kinda fills all the gaps. you dont notice it’s all popcorn until Some Guy shows up, the One attachment she apparently does have, and hes like a whole Evil Guy, and he tries to kill you all. and then you realise wait what the fuck we dont know anything

and then they ask “why not with us?” and i realise, wait what the fuck they dont know anything

#me: ive got an hour and a half before i have to go to bed im gonna work on my video #me instead: writes this post bc a thought had can not be a thought unshared i guess #i havent thought this next thought through very much but i think thats also why they would never like call the doctor a timelord #even after they know #bc what do they know really? nothing. just a word #but like as a description #or if i were writing their pov #the doctor woudl never be a timelord to them #not in their words #im not sure she would even be alien to them #most of the time #maybe in certain moments #certain slightly disorienting but mostly fleeting moments #mostly shes just. the doctor #i dont think she feels that alien to them #i also dont think the doctor feels Constantly alien to other companions but i think it's a more present undercurrent #when you know theyre way older than they look and when you know regneration at least Is A Thing #that just starts you off on another foot you know? #anyway #many words little news what else is new #companions

[fledermausforstrauss]

Day 13 - Ash

Aziraphale is given a vague warning. Crowley has a nightmare. 3845 words.

This is part one of two! The second part won’t be out for a little while, but it is mostly finished already. Thanks to @pie1313 for help!! 

-----

79 AD

Misenum was a beautiful seaside city at the northern end of the Gulf of Naples that held the Roman Empire's biggest and most important fleet of warships, which was led by roman naval commander, Pliny the Elder.

Pliny was well travelled and knowledgeable. He had spent years studying an assortment of subjects, recording any and all findings and compiling them into reports. Those reports he compiled together into books. Those books he compiled into a collection he named ‘Naturalis Historia’ and Aziraphale was itching to get his hands on all 37 of them.

He was standing at the edge of a dock, looking out at the formidable fleet of warships, when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Aziraphale!” 

Cold chills ran up his spine, but he brushed the feeling off as he turned to face Archangel Gabriel.

“Oh, hello, Gabriel. What brings you here?”

“I noticed you were in the area and I felt it’d be in our best interest to warn you.” Gabriel smiled, sending another wave of chills up Aziraphale’s spine. 

“Warn me?”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

“...Of?”

“Stay away…” Gabriel’s smile widened “From Pompeii.”

“Stay away from Pompeii?”

“Isn’t it fun to say?” Gabriel’s smile widened as he laughed. “But seriously, something big is going to happen and you don’t want to be there. I suggest you just head out now, in fact.”

“Oh, oh. Yes. Alright.” Aziraphale nodded, trying to return Gabriel's smile the best he could. “Thank you for the warning. I’ll be getting out of here soon.”

“Good.” Gabriel said. “Wouldn't want to deal with any unfortunate mishaps, would we?”

“Of course not…”

Gabriel nodded and turned to leave.

“Could I ask…” Aziraphel started. “What’s going to happen in Pompeii?”

“Oh, Aziraphale…” Gabriel said in a condescending tone. “No.”

“Oh.”

“Just stay away…” Gabriel said, gesturing to Aziraphale.

“...From Pompeii?”

“You got it.”

-----

Crowley had been told to check out Pompeii. 

There was word travelling around that there would be some sort of fireshow, a real sight to behold. Usually, his higher-ups would have more information for him, but this time there was nothing, just a vague ‘You should check it out'. 

An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach, so he instead hung around some of the towns surrounding Pompeii, surveying the area. 

It was actually quite nice. Villas decorated the edges of the valley, vineyards sprawled across the mountain sides, and the towns were bustling with all sorts of people. One of the towns was perched on the edge of a mountain, facing the ocean. He looked out towards the water, catching glimpses of it between some buildings.

Crowley looked up at the highest point of the mountain, wanting to get the best view of the ocean before the sun set. He followed a path upwards, weaving between buildings then eventually through trees.

A large villa at the top of the hill was decked out with angelic statues, varying from plump little baby cherubs to graceful ballerina-types holding their arms out in a welcoming gesture. He followed the steps up to the building, stopping to study some of the statues along the way, pacing slowly with his hands behind his back, bending forward slightly to take a closer look at the details.

When he made it to the top of the path, he couldn’t help but stare.

To one side of the building was the ocean, what he had come up to see in the first place. The setting sun sparkled off the waves, glinting like diamonds in the sun. To the other side was a beautiful view of the valley, the vineyards spreading out in every direction.

And right between the two views was one more angel. A real one.

-----

Aziraphale did as he was told and stayed away from Pompeii.

Gabriel didn't say he couldn't hang around Stabiae. A beautiful little Roman town known for its lovely views, fancy villas, and delectable wines. In fact, one could have a wonderful time in Stabiae sitting up in one of the hill-top fancy villas, enjoying some delectable wine, and enjoying the lovely view of Pompeii, which by sheer coincidence, sat a mere 3 miles away.

Aziraphale tapped his toes nervously as he stared out the window, neglecting the new book in his hand and the panoramic view to focus solely on the small glimpse of Pompeii he could see. 

Gabriel’s warning ran through his mind again.

"Stay away from what?" Aziraphale mumbled to himself. "Why?”

“An angel could get in trouble for asking questions, you know.”

Aziraphale jumped at the voice, turning around to see Crowley standing behind his bench. Aziraphale could feel a slow smile spread across his face.

“What are you doing here?” Crowley asked.

“Me? I, uh…” Aziraphale gestured out the window with the book in his hands. “I came to enjoy the view.” 

Crowley raised a brow over his tinted glasses.

“Oh, alright.” Aziraphale sighed. “They told me to stay away from Pompeii.”

“So… you came to Pompeii?”

“This isn’t Pompeii. That’s Pompeii” Aziraphale pointed out the window. “I’m in Stabiae, and only by sheer coincidence. What are you doing here?”

“They told me to come check out Pompeii.”

“But you’re not in Pompeii.”

“Yes, well. I’m not too keen on this one. I’m only getting vague details on what’s going to happen. Something's off, I just know it.” Crowley muttered. “They usually give me more information.”

“Really?” Aziraphale asked, surprised.

“‘Course. How else am I supposed to do my job.”

Aziraphale stared at him for a second longer, then turned to look out the window again.

“...Do they not tell you anything?” Crowley asked.

“Not when it’s something big.” Aziraphale shook his head, still looking out the window. “That’s why I’m worried.”

“Hm.” Crowley hummed.

Aziraphale thought back to every major event he had been kept in the dark on. Part of him suspected that Gabriel kept things from him to keep him from meddling, part of him was sure it had to be for his own good.

“...I just wish they’d give me something. Is it really that hard? How am I supposed to do what I’m meant to if I’m never told anything? Why--?”

“Stop.” Crowley warned.

“I just want to know why--.” 

“Sstop.”

“But--!”

“Angel.” Crowley growled. “Sssstop. Asking. Questionssss.”

“Why should I?” He puffed up his chest, meeting Crowley’s stare. Who was he to tell Aziraphale what to do, he was a demon. “You certainly ask a lot of questions, why can’t I?”

“Because I can’t fall any further.” 

There was a long beat of silence where something finally clicked in Aziraphale’s mind.

“...Oh.” Was all Aziraphale could say.

“An angel could get in trouble for asking questionssss.” Crowley repeated, no real venom in his tone.

“...Oh…”

Crowley twitched as if he had been startled out of a thought, his face twisting into a scowl. He turned around, leaving through the door he came in.

“Wait--.” Aziraphale stood from his bench.

“Ssorry for interrupting your evening, Angel.” 

Aziraphale froze in place and watched the demon walk out, leaving down the winding stairs. He stayed there long after the sound of his footsteps faded.

-----

The following day, the area was shaken by an earthquake, startling Aziraphale out of the eleventh booking his new collection of ‘Naturalis Historia’. The villa he was in shook a fair bit, the statues rattling in their places, but it settled quickly.

He closed his book as he stared intently at Pompeii. Nothing seemed to be too different, no fault line had opened to devour the city, the structures seemed to be intact, and there were no visible flames. He sat back in his seat, wondering why the Archangel Gabriel went through so much effort to warn him of a minor tremor.

Just as he was about to reopen his book and find where he had left off when the ground started shaking again, more violently. Aziraphale pushed his bag under the bench and left out a side door, getting a better look at the surrounding area from the balcony.

The tremors continued as a thunderous noise roared out from the mountain behind Pompeii.  An enormous explosion of black ash spewed out from the top, catching in the wind like a dark cloud and heading for Aziraphale, directly over the city between them.

Aziraphale stared wide eyed at the city below. He looked up at the cloud of ash that was already starting to fall, then back down at the city.

“Please forgive me.” Aziraphale whispered.

Aziraphale manifested his wings, spreading them out  wide before jumping the railing.

-----

Crowley sat straight up in bed, looking around at the shaking walls with deep confusion, certain he was still sleeping. The minor tremor faded quickly, leaving him tangled in the bedsheets, feeling lost. He stumbled out of the bed, pulling his glasses on and heading out the door of his room.

As soon as he stepped into the main room of the inn, the building started to shake again, making him lose his balance. He caught himself before he hit the ground and headed out onto the street, looking around. There was a deep, bassy rumble that rolled through the ground.

Crowley followed the path of the fault line as it bisected several buildings. 

The inn behind him started to collapse, keeling towards him. He jumped out of the way, tripping backwards into the wall of the next building and slamming the back of his head against the crumbling stone wall, putting him into a momentary daze.

Crowley leant forward, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to regain his senses in the middle of an earthquake. His glasses slipped off his nose and clattered on the ground, the lenses shattering when they hit the stone.

He opened his eyes and was even more disoriented. 

His tinted glasses were gone, but it was just as dark. Crowley looked up at the sky that had been clear only a moment ago to see a great big, black cloud blot out the sun. His eyes darted along the cloud, looking for any clue to what was happening, when he spotted something that made his panic spike even higher.

Aziraphale was flying across the sky, his pearly white wings a stark contrast against the dark cloud behind him. Crowley was frozen in place until the angel left his sight, headed in the direction of Pompeii.

“Oh, you fool.” Crowley cursed. “What are you doing, you’re going to… Oh, Angel.”

He manifested his own wings and pushed off of the ground, but as soon as his feet left the ground, the disoriented feeling only got worse. He wobbled as he took off, fighting the urge to land.

Crowley growled, frustrated, and righted himself, looking for the angel ahead of him. As his eyes scanned the horizon, the shock of what he was seeing made him lose focus and he slipped, falling to the roof below him.

He hit the tiles roof hard, rolling over himself and landing on his back. He lifted himself up on shaky arms to take into the destruction, his mouth falling open.

The mountain behind the city of Pompeii had erupted. The black cloud that was blotting out the sun was ash that had blown into the sky, and it was already starting to fall on the valley. 

Pompeii was right in the line of fire.

And Aziraphale was heading right for it.

Crowley tried to shake off the dazed feeling and took off again, fighting to steady out his second wobbly takeoff as he headed straight for the city. The wind kept catching him off guard, making his wings dip whenever he lost focus, which was very easy with the ringing in his ears. 

The ash was starting to collect on the ground, a fine layer of black dust settling on every surface that he skimmed over. He flew low enough to disturb the ash, kicking patches of it up with the gust from his wings as he swerved between trees, keeping close to the ground in case he lost his balance again.

When Crowley made it to the outer wall of the city he tried to fly over it, planning to circle over to try and pinpoint Aziraphale, but his vertigo spiked with the change of direction and he slipped out of the air, hitting the stone road at the entrance.

He growled in frustration, his head spinning as he looked around. People were running through the streets, panicked, grabbing their valuables and leaving as fast as they could.

“Angel!” He yelled, getting to his feet, but his voice was drowned out by everyone else's screaming.

He started running through the streets, occasionally tripping over his own feet as he forgot how legs worked.

“Angel!” He yelled again, desperately searching for a sign, a flash of white, anything.

He took a deep breath to yell again, but the ash that had started to grow dense in the air got caught in his throat, making him cough. Every cough aggravated his headache which only worsened his vertigo. All of which didn’t help his panic.

He fell to his knees, his breath rasping as he stared at the ground below his knees, trying to regain his focus.

He needed to find his angel.

“Crowley.” 

He lifted his head to look down the street ahead of him.

Aziraphale stood before him, eyes wide, staring back.

His hair was a mess, he had dirt and soot on his face and hands, his robes were torn and singed, and his wings…

Crowley let out a sob, crumpling forward, his body finally giving out. He hit the ground and curled onto his side, his vision going dark as he fought to stay awake.

Aziraphale’s wings were black.

-----

The city was in just as bad a shape as Aziraphale had feared.

A few of the larger buildings had toppled in the earthquake and a layer of hot ash had already settled. People were running away as he flew over, barely paying him much attention. He landed in the centre of town, his wings kicking up a cloud of ash.

He wasted no time running through buildings, pulling people out of their useless hiding spots and pushing them towards the exits, shielding them from the ash with his wings. He ran through the streets, his heart aching as he realized he couldn’t do much to help. It was too much.

He couldn’t save them.

“Angel!” 

Aziraphale turned at the sound of Crowley's voice and started to run towards it.

“Angel!” 

He came around the corner of the main street to find Crowley on his knees, hunched forward.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale breathed.

The demon uncurled, peering up at him with a look of shock. 

He looked terrible.

He was on his knees, covered in ash and gasping for breath. His glasses were gone, showing his eyes, and more importantly, his pupils, which were blown so wide they took up the majority of his gold irises. Blood was dripping freely from his head.

The demon choked on a sob and tipped forward, falling onto the ground.

Aziraphale jumped into action, running the rest of the distance. He fell to his knees next to Crowley, carefully placing one hand on his shoulder and one hand on his forehead.

He healed the open wound on his head just enough to stop the bleeding.

Another earthquake rolled beneath them, making Aziraphale lose focus and open his eyes. More ash had fallen while he had been healing Crowley. He stood, using his wings to shield the two of them as he looked around.

The city had grown quiet.

Anyone who could make it out apparently had. 

Those who couldn’t…

Aziraphale looked down at the demon curled on the stone below him and brushed the quickly collecting ash off his cheek. He gathered Crowley in his arms and took off, heading for the last bit of blue sky he could see.

-----

Crowley had always asked too many questions.

Ever since his first day in existence, before the concept of time was even a thing, he had always had too many questions.

Curiosity at first. He had so many things to learn, and he wanted to learn it all. Every new thing he had the chance to know was exhilarating. 

Interest came next. He found certain things more interesting than others, and while that never stopped him from asking about everything and anything, he certainly had favourites. Among those were the new plants that had started to gather in heaven, the stream of new angels that came after him, and what would eventually be called ‘The Great Plan’.

Concern was quick to follow. The plan certainly was great, but Crowley was worried it wasn’t particularly… good.

The last word he said in heaven, the last syllable he uttered as an angel, contained all of his concern for the newly created humans and the path they were being led down. He had poured his whole heart and soul into it that one word, staring into the blinding light above him.

“Why?”

The pain was immediate. Like a strike of lighting, it tore through him, ripping his angelic grace from his very essence, and continued on through the ground, dragging him down with it.

A guttural scream clawed its way out of his throat as he plummeted. 

Sparks danced along his wings as every feather caught fire. 

He twisted his neck to look at his once white feathers turn black, but something caught his eye just beyond his wing.

Another figure was falling next to him. Their wings in a similar state, burnt and tarnished, cocooned around their body.

He reached out, running his fingers through the other’s feathers gently, as if they weren’t dropping through the air at high speeds and also on fire.

The wings unfurled.

He was met with a shock of white-blond hair and a pair of brilliant blue eyes.

He gasped, pain shooting through his heart as if he had been struck a second time. His blood boiled and his eyes burned, making him squeeze them shut, screaming out in pain again.

In the darkness, a hand reached out and took his, holding tight.

-----

Aziraphale’s exhausted wings, having been overworked after being inactive for too long, combined with the extra weight of Crowley, made for a bit of a rocky landing. He had tried his best, not wanting to jostle the demon in his arms too badly, but he was just lucky he hadn’t fallen flat on his front. 

He had landed on the balcony of an inn on the outskirts of a town north of Pompeii, out of reach of the ash. He pushed the curtain aside as he entered the small room, immediately heading for the bed to lay Crowley down. 

As soon as the demon was out of his hands, Aziraphle felt the muscles in his body give out to exhaustion. His shoulders slumped and he leant his head forward, letting out a sigh as his he started pulling his wings around himself for comfort.

He froze at the sight of them.

They were a deep matte grey, nearly as dark as Crowley’s.

His mind raced.

He reached out for his feathers, hesitating before he could lay a finger on them. He took a deep breath and pushed his fingers deep between his coverts, ruffling them slightly. 

Relief coursed through him when dust poured out onto his fingers, drifting slowly to the floor, leaving behind glimpses of white under the ash.

He let out another deep sigh, shaking his wings out to get as much of the dust out as possible. Small piles collected on the floor.

Aziraphale stepped over the ash piles and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked down at the demon’s face, peaceful in the moonlight. He placed a hand on Crowley’s forehead and his brow twitched under his fingers. He watched as the demon frowned in his sleep, his head turning away from his touch.

He pulled his hand away and watched as a pained expression spoiled the calm features on Crowley’s face.  The demon mumbled something and winced, his wings curling around his frame.

Aziraphale held his breath, his hand inching back towards the demon.

Crowley screamed. It was a panicked scream, full of terror and fear. 

Aziraphale jolted forward, taking the demon's hand in his own and holding tight.

Crowley shot up in the bed, ripping his hand out of Aziraphale's and backing into the corner, his wings puffed up as he searched the room with wide eyes.

“Oh, Crowley…” Aziraphale held his hand up to calm the demon, but hesitated, backing away slowly. “...Are you alright?”

Crowley’s eyes finally settled on Aziraphale. 

“Angel… You…” Crowley whispered, studying him. “Your wings…”

“Yes, I know. They're a mess.” Aziraphale shook them again, making more ash fall to the ground. 

Crowley stared for a minute, blinking while tried to make sense of what he was seeing. He let out a deep sigh, collapsing back to lean against the wall. He winced as his head hit the wall and reached up to investigate.

“Oh, I wouldn’t touch that.” Aziraphale said. “You got a pretty nasty bump on your head back there, and I don’t have enough left in me to heal you.”

Crowley just stared at him.

“You’re going to want to rest a bit.” Aziraphale said.

Crowley nodded.

“Do you remember anything?”

“...Unfortunately.” Crowley rasped.

“What happened to you?”

“I…” Crowley looked away. “I’m not sure.”

It was obvious Crowley wasn’t saying something, but Aziraphale wasn’t one to pry, so he nodded. They sat in silence for a short while, Crowley letting his eyes close as he gently rested his head back, careful of his injury. 

“...You went directly against orders, you realize that.” Crowley mumbled.

Aziraphale nodded again, looking out the window at the cloud of ash in the distance. He could hear the Archangel Gabriel’s warning in the back of his mind.

“Something could have happened to you.” Crowley whispered, interrupting Aziraphale’s thoughts.

Something finally clicked in Aziraphale’s mind.

He looked at Crowley to find his eyes open, staring back at him out of the corner of his eye. His pupils were still dilated, but they were more diamond shaped than full-blown circle.

“That's why you followed me.” Aziraphale mumbled.

The demon just closed his eyes. 

After a few moments, Aziraphale realized the demon had dozed off. He stood from his spot on the bed and went back out to the balcony. Ash was still pouring out of the mountain, getting caught up by the wind and being blown south, away from where they were.

The villa he left his new collection of ‘Naturalis Historia’ would certainly be covered in a heap of ash. Just as everything else would be. The whole valley. Everyone who wasn’t fast enough, or lucky enough...

Aziraphale wings closed over his shoulders. He ignored the mess they made in favour of the comfort they brought him.

(TBC)

#good omens fic #good omens #aziraphale #Crowley

[deepseacritter]

Every Dog Has His Day

For those who want to read here…

Characters: CC-3636 | Wolffe, CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody, Sinker

Summary: Wolffe gets his revenge.

Sinker knew his commander, and could tell when Wolffe was having an off day. The clone walked a certain way when he was agitated, with his feet hitting the ground harder than usual, hands clenched into fists that were about ready to take a swing at anyone who so much as looked at him the wrong way. Cody joked that the Wolfpack could probably smell the change in their commander’s mood as well. Wolffe had not appreciated that comment, but General Koon thought there might actually be some truth there. The Force was in all things, and given the strong bonds of the Pack, perhaps they truly were sensing what Wolffe was feeling.

Things were not going well so far. The mess hall ran out of caf at breakfast and lunch. Some of the troopers from the 501st had occupied the firing range longer than expected, and the new shinies were late arriving from Kamino, which meant the rest of the day’s schedule was shot. To top it all off, someone had also “borrowed” Wolffe’s datapad and returned it full of questionable holovids…Sinker suspected it was Cody. The commanders were currently inside the barracks, having a rather loud discussion about it.  

The door to the barracks flew open and Wolffe stormed out muttering a stream of curses. Sinker quickly shot to his right and flattened himself against the wall to get out of the way. The commander would never take his anger out on any member of the Pack, but it was still a good idea to give the man some space when he was upset. Wolffe had clearly lost the argument (not that there was any real proof Cody did anything), and Sinker could just feel the anger emanating from Wolffe as he passed and headed towards the officer’s lounge. Yes, today was definitely an off day.

———-

Rex was catching up on some field reports in the officer’s lounge when Wolffe made a rather loud entrance. The commander looked agitated, and cursed as he smashed his helmet on the table and threw himself into one of the lounge chairs. Rex guessed he had recently crossed paths with Cody, and not wishing to listen to another tirade, simply greeted his brother by name and went back to his reports.

Wolffe rocked his chair back and stared at the ceiling for a good hour before speaking. “Hey, Rex. Do you remember those training rocket launchers we used back on Kamino?”

Odd question, but of course he remembered them. During a weapons session one of his batch mates was messing around and accidentally fired the rocket launcher across the room. The non-lethal blank hit Rex square in the gut and sent him flying. He was what…maybe four or five at the time? The hit to his small body broke three ribs, and he had massive bruising for months.

“Yeah, I remember those. Reminiscing on our youthful training days?”

“I wonder if I’d be able to get my hands on one. Maybe have one shipped in with the next batch of shinies.”

Rex put his data pad down and looked over at Wolffe, who was still apparently contemplating the ceiling. “Vod, we have plenty of rocket launchers on base right now. What do you want a training launcher for?”

Wolffe leaned further back in the chair and rested his hands behind his head. “Might be fun.”

Might be fun? That was doubtful. Nothing about Wolffe screamed “fun.” Cody, on the other hand…ah, that was it.

“Listen, Wolffe…as temping as it may be to fire a rocket at Cody, that’s a sure way to see yourself decommissioned.”

Wolffe turned a scarred face to Rex, his cybernetic eye glowing. “I’m not an idiot, Rex. I don’t like Cody, but I don’t hate him enough to do that. Not yet anyway.”

“So then why the training launcher?”

“I just want one.” The commander abruptly straightened his chair and stood. “Forget about it. Wishful thinking.” He was out the door before Rex could respond.

———-

Sinker sat at a far console in the command center, watching the daily GAR newsfeed. On days like this, when nothing was happening on base and they weren’t deploying, the command center was the best place to be if you wanted a nice, quiet space. Perhaps he would take a quick nap…

The clone jumped when his comm panel suddenly sounded, disrupting the tranquility of the dark room.

“Sinker, do you have an updated ETA for those shinies?” Wolff’s voice echoed through the mostly empty room.

Update…he had seen a notice somewhere recently. Quickly scrolling through fleet notifications, he found it.

“Yes, sir. They’re now scheduled to arrive tomorrow morning.”

“They haven’t left Kamino yet. Good.”

Sinker wasn’t sure how to respond. How was that good? It wasn’t good a couple hours ago, when you were ranting about the schedule. Silence was the better option.

“Meet me in the armory in five. I have some questions about the requisition form you filled out.”

Requisition form? He hadn’t filed any reqs recently, and Wolffe never made errors with paperwork, so it had to be something else…something that couldn’t be spoken about in the open command center.

“On my way, sir.” Sinker closed the newsfeed he had been watching and headed out the door, wondering what Wolffe had in store.

———

Wolffe had repeated his request, and Sinker still couldn’t believe it.

“A training rocket launcher? I just…Wolffe…that’s an unusual request.”

“Can you make it happen? Our best chance is to get one with this next batch of shinies coming in tomorrow.”

Sinker eyed the commander, and considered asking him if it was a joke…again. No, clearly Wolffe wasn’t joking at all. He wanted a kriffing training launcher, and wouldn’t say exactly why.

“I know one of the training sergeants who might be able to pull some strings. I need a good reason to give him though. Something plausible.”

Wolffe closed his eyes and furrowed his brow in thought. Plausible. After several moments he had an idea…

“Tell him I want it for some training exercises. I want to test these new clones myself, observe how they react to a more realistic battlefield conditions. No better way than to actually shoot at them, right?”

Shooting at shinies. If it had been any other commander, it would have never worked…but Wolffe? It would be an easy sell. The story fit with what other clones outside the 104th thought he would be like.  

“I can work with that. No guarantees, though.”

“Do what you have to do, Sinker. Just get me that launcher.”

Sinker couldn’t help but shake his head as he left the armory. What the hell was Wolffe up to?

———-

The transport from Kamino arrived just after morning muster. Sinker had the clones fall in, and nodded to Wolffe. The commander gave a cursory inspection and speech to the shinies, sent them off to the mess hall, then headed towards central command. It was going to be a good day.

At the officers’ meeting, General Kenobi announced the dates for battalion inspections, and the 104th had a week to prepare. That was plenty of time to really polish up their armor and acclimate the new clones to the rest of the Wolfpack. The 212th would be the first in line for inspection in two days. General Kenobi had mentioned at least four times how important image was, so the pressure was on Cody to have all his men looking their best. Seeing Cody sweat a little at the news made Wolffe happy, and kriffing hells if his good mood didn’t last for the next two days.

———-

From his vantage point, Wolffe could see Cody clearly. The 212th commander was speaking with his top platoon, and giving their armor one final check. Hells they all looked so clean, with the white plastoid shining like new. All the orange paint had been touched up as well. It was almost a shame…almost.

Five minutes to inspection. Wolffe shouldered the training rocket launcher and aimed at Cody. Four minutes. He exhaled slowly, and calmly pulled the trigger. The round hit Cody center mass, exploding everywhere. He never saw it coming. As the cloud started to settle, Wolffe quickly made his escape, barely suppressing his laughter.

———-

The clones in the 212th had been knocked flat in a flash of color. Cody was still on his back, staring at the sky as several of the clones that had been standing near him were stumbling to their feet. They were all trying to process what had just happened.

As he sat up, Cody took several seconds to realize that the colors he was seeing weren’t from the blast, but from the hideous paint that was now covering himself and a good portion of his men. It was like someone had taken all the colors from a drunk night at 79’s, added some glitter, and then threw it up all over the 212th. This is not happening. Not now.

“I swear to kriffing hells, I’m going to get the piece of rankweed who did this…”

Cody scrambled to his feet, still not totally comprehending the situation, as the rest of the 212th snapped to attention. It was too late to do anything; the generals had arrived for inspection.

———-

Obi-wan looked as shocked as Cody felt, and was quite lost for words. Skywalker surveyed the slightly disoriented clones, shaking his head with a grin.

“Well, I must say Master, I’m not a fan of your battalion’s new colors.”

“Anakin…”

“I mean, it does make a statement. Just not sure if you needed so much glitter.”

Plo chuckled as he booted the remnants of the paint round that hit Cody. “Oh, I’m not sure about that. I think the glitter is a fine addition to the armor. It catches the sunlight nicely. Perhaps it’s the color combination that’s a bit distracting.”

“Ah, yes. The green, blue, gold, red, and purple do seem to clash a bit with the original orange paint.”  

Obi-wan was getting a headache. “Unbelievable.” He marched up to the clone at front and center.

“Commander Cody, perhaps you would care to explain yourself.”

———-

Wolffe had hidden the training launcher and returned to watch as Kenobi thoroughly chewed out Cody. Cody, who was covered in every single blasted color the supply room had, plus some extras Wolffe was able to scrounge up. Cody, who would now be stuck scrubbing his armor clear for hours. Cody, who would likely be given extra duty to make up for this inspection fiasco. Cody, who completely and utterly deserved what he got.

It was glorious.

#wolffe #cody #clone shenanigans #my wolffe gets revenge #cody is a little shit #and deserves it