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imabeautifulbutterfly · 1 month

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How about 17 and 46 with Rex??? Only if u want to!!!

Hello gorgeous @skyofnostars,

You're so sweet. Of course, I want to.

I hope you'll enjoy this one. I was debating on which way I wanted this to go, but I'm happy with how it turned out. Also the story got away from me, so enjoy the 1400 words.

Love oo,

The Kiss

Warnings: Angst, kissing, drunken state, loss of life, Krell era, comfort, misunderstanding, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know.

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Rex sat in his office going over several datapads reviewing the reports from several Majors, Lieutenants and Sergeants, each discussing from their own point of view how the battle progressed. Technically, some of this should’ve been handled by the General, but right now … they had to deal with General Krell, and he wasn’t going to let his man have to put up with anymore of his tyrannical way of thinking.

His eyes looked over the list of soldiers that had been lost from Krell’s last battle plan, his heart tightening with each name, each brother now gone. Simply because that Jedi … no, he’s no Jedi. He’s a monster. A vile excuse for a man who was currently in charge, at least until General Skywalker came back.

The Captain rolled his neck side to side, closing his eyes, trying to silence the anger and frustration that had grown within him. Why did General Skywalker have to be called away now? No, why did they have to be stuck with a General that clearly didn’t care about his troops.

You slowly made your way to Rex’s office, you were dreading having to face Rex, not only did you have to turn in your own report, but on top of all the other issues between you and Rex right now, you were going to have to apologize for your actions on the field. Krell pushed your buttons and you lashed out at him, well not just Krell, but also at Rex, it wasn’t Rex’s fault, you knew that; but it was all too much. Then to make matters worse he was the one who saved you, when you were getting ready to punch Krell.

He stood in front of you, dressing you down in front of the General. Telling you to learn your place. You knew he did it, so the General wouldn’t have an excuse to step in; it was embarrassing and awful, but he did save you; saved you from a court martial or worse, at least.

Maker, why was it so hard to be around him, now?

For a long time Rex and you were friends. It was an almost instantaneous friendship from the moment you two met. Then one night, one stupid drunken night at 79s you accidentally kissed him, which simultaneously sobered you up and ruined the friendship you both had.

After that night Rex kept his distance, the first real conversation you had with him was when you were yelling at him and General Krell, and he yelled back at you. Which wasn’t even a conversation, really.

Yet, now there were no more options left, as much as he wanted to avoid you, he’d have no option but to talk to you. Especially, since you had concerns about Krell.

You took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

A moment was all you needed as you steadied your breath, before walking in. You stood at attention, waiting for Rex to acknowledge your presence.

He took a second to calm his nerves, his eyes refusing to meet yours.

“Lieutenant.”

“Captain, I’m here to give you my report.”

You held out the datapad to him, your heart aching, missing the camaraderie you both had once enjoyed. You missed it all, the joking, the laughing, the subtle flirting from your end, it had all stopped after that kiss.

He drew a clear line between you two and that was all there was to it.

“You can just leave it on the desk,” he focused his attention back on the report in front of him.

He wanted to look at you, he wanted to talk to you, but he didn’t deserve that. Especially, since when you drunkenly kissed him, it had been the most perfect kiss he ever imagined he could’ve had with you. He enjoyed the feel of your lips on his, the warmth from your breath gently washing over his skin, the weight of you in his arms, the way you made him feel, it was everything he could’ve possibly wanted. It was then he realized how much he cared for you. How much he wanted something more with you, but that wasn’t possible.

He felt as though he’d abused your kindness, your friendship. He felt ashamed to be near you.

You let out a sigh as you looked at him, “Will you ever look me in the eyes again?”

Rex didn’t have it within himself to answer you, much less to look at you.

You’d done this, you’d ruined your friendship. If you hadn’t been so drunk that night, if you hadn’t pushed the limits of your friendship none of this would be happening.

“I’m sorry.” You started, “I’m sorry for overstepping that night and kissing you,” Rex lifted his eyes to look at you, his heart tightened when he heard you regretted kissing him. His eyes took in all your features, studying each section of your face. Maker, how he missed your face, missed you. “Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for protecting me with Krell. I know I really put my foot in it and if it wasn’t for you stepping in and covering over what I said or was about to do …”

“Well you always manage to make my life interesting,” he smirked as he looked at you, “I’m just glad I stopped you off before you actually hit him. Truthfully, I didn’t want him to demote you or kick you out of the GAR, so I went a bit extra.”

“It’s fine, and you know, even if he didn’t react at that moment, I have a feeling he’s going to get back at me, one way or another. He may be a Jedi, but I think even he would think twice before going against someone related to one of the Republic Senators.”

“I highly doubt that would’ve phased him.”

“Probably not.” You smiled as you looked at him, “I am sorry about everything. I’m sorry I ruined our friendship that night and … I know you don’t feel comfortable around me …”

“Wait,” Rex held up his hand, “Do you think I’m avoiding you because … I’m mad at you or something?”

“Aren’t you?”

Rex closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, running his hands over his face, “No.” He stood from his seat and walked over to you. As he looked into your eyes, he felt his heart start to beat faster, he slowly reached up his hand gently caressing your cheek. “Cyar’ika, the reason I was avoiding you was because … if I didn’t I would’ve overstepped. The moment you kissed me, I realized I was in love with you. I’ve been in love with you this whole time. This entire time, I’d been taking advantage of your kindness and sincerity, just so I could get close to you. I’ll understand if you don’t feel the same way, if you regret kissing me, but I want you to know, I love you.”

“You love me?”

“I have. I do. For a long time.”

You closed your eyes, your smile reaching all the way to your ears as you leaned into his hand, holding his hand against your cheek. “Look at you, showing some actual good taste. I’m almost impressed.” You laughed, as you slowly opened your eyes to look at him, “Rex, I’ve loved you from the moment we met. Maybe I didn’t realize it was love at first, but now looking back … it’s the only thing that makes sense. I love you, and truthfully, I don’t regret kissing you. I regretted the fact it pushed us apart.”

His lips gently pressed against your forehead, his other hand moved to the back of your head holding you close, “I’m sorry for pushing you away. I should’ve talked to you instead of making decisions on both of our behalf.”

“It’s okay” your hands went to his waist and pulled him closer. “You’re here now.” You opened your eyes, pulling away slightly to look at him, “What are we going to do about Krell? I don’t trust him. If this continues you won’t have any brothers left, and not to mention …”

“Shhhh” he pressed another kiss to your forehead, cutting you off, “I know, cyar’ika. I know.” Rex pulled you into a hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “Right now, though. I just want to hold you in my arms and not worry about him. At least for a little bit.”

You didn’t fight him on it, you simply nodded, wrapping your arms around his torso as you pulled him in closer. There was time to deal with Krell, at least that’s what you hoped.

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spacemagicandlaserswords · 9 months

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The Clone Wars 4.10 ‘Carnage of Krell’ Reaction Take 2

Rex still trying to do everything he can to save Fives and Jesse

I hate Krell so much. So fucking much.

Ugh Jesse, why are you so broad. Those shoulders. Hnnnnnnn

Oh Jesse’s face here. My emotions

That line from Fives is a really good example of how smart and perceptive he is. Firstly, he’s figured out what Krell is doing (using Rex’s loyalty against him to control the clones) and then telling Rex this, planting the seed to finally push Rex far enough to the point of going against everything he’s been told to do and mutiny against Krell. Rex knows what is happening is wrong but he’s been stuck between the ultimate rock and a hard place.

I really get the sense Jesse is decidedly unimpressed with how this has turned out. He knew there'd be consequences but a firing squad?!

Ok, I’m just going to copy and paste what I said in my first reaction post about Kix being in the firing squad because it still stands.

WHY THE FUCK DID THEY PUT A MEDIC IN A FIRING SQUAD?! WHAT WAS KIX DOING THERE?! WHY?! WHAT KIND OF MESSED UP NONSENSE IS THIS?!

You can even see his medic symbol on his shoulder! I know from a practical, logistical perspective that he’s there because they’re running out of recognisable clones that we know. Fives and Jesse are the ones in front of the firing squad. Hardcase is dead *sobs*. Dogma is running the execution, because of course he is. Rex is there because he has to be. We don’t really know what Appo looks like. The only ones left are Tup and Kix.

“Well, I’ve officially lost my sense of humour.” *more chest clutching and pained noises*

Oh Rex can’t look. He bows his head and closes his eyes when Dogma shouts “Aim.” He looks so sad and lost. AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

Omg Kix’s face during Fives’ speech. He’s so anguished. AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

Rex closed his eyes when they fired. AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

This whole scene is just ALL OF THE EMOTIONS

When the whole firing squad throws down their weapons. YAAAAAAASSSSSS

“Good luck finding anyone to do it.” Rex with the badass one liners again

“It’s Captain, sir.” THE UNHOLY NOISE I LET OUT AT THIS. FUCKING GET HIM REX.

Omg Rex’s glare after this. Ugh.

Oh god, this scene. It’s so heartbreaking.

The first shot of the 212th clones in their gold getting shot and I just nooooooooo *more pained noises*

I watched this entire scene through tears while clutching my face and trying not to cry. It’s just so heartbreaking. It’s utterly emotionally devastating and one of the best scenes out of what I’ve watched in the TCW so far, and The Bad Batch as well. It was just as heart wrenching watching the second time and now I have to watch it again to try and catch all the moments that just rip out your heart one after the other.

Rex realising something’s not right

Oh, the shot of the dead 212th clone with his head tipped back and you can see his neck and chin and it’s not an Umbaran and *deeply pained noise*

Rex running through the battlefield desperately trying to get his brothers to stop firing on each other. He’s so desperate here.

The music here is fantastic and really hammering home how devastating this is.

Rex is running through an active battlefield, completely in the open, shots still flying and taking off his helmet. He’s completely exposed and that is so much guts and desperation. You can hear it in his voice too. Every time he says “clones” there’s so much urgent desperation in his voice.

Aaaaaaaah, the way Rex desperately dives and tackles that 212th clone, rips his helmet off, flips him around and basically hugs him to his chest to get everyone to see that they’re all clones *gross sobbing*. He’s holding a brother in the middle of them all trying to kill each other without realising it.

The utter look of shock and horror on that 212th clones face when Rex rips off his helmet is also just as heartbreaking.

Ok, I know this is an utterly heartbreaking scene but the shot where the 212th and 501st clones step up to face each other is so beautiful and so well done. The cinematography throughout this entire arc has been stunning and utterly gorgeous.

A lot of the 212th clones look like standard regulation clones whereas a lot of the 501st clones have personalised and individualised appearances, like tattoos and different hair. This is only something I noticed when all the 212th clones took off their helmets and stepped up opposite the 501st clones in the shot above. I’m curious as to why this is and, baring logistical animation reasons, I wonder if there’s a little bit of hero worship in there for their Marshal Commander. Apart from his very distinctive facial scar, Cody looks just like a standard regulation clone. I should imagine the 212th really look up to him and there might be a little bit of trying to emulate him in the way their appearance appears so standard. They all want to be like their ori’vod.

Oh the utterly anguished faces on Rex and that 212th clone. And then the way he falls onto the floor in despair.

Rex falling to his knees and clutching his head. *DEEPLY PAINED WAILING*

I am still tearing up at this.

Omg Tup’s “What have we done?” is so full of pain, anguish and horror.

This is the start of Dogma realising everything’s gone wrong.

“He’s still alive.” Kix, delivering that line, in that manner, that’s not a good thing. Meaning he’s still alive, but he’s not going to be for much longer. Oh Waxer.

Waxer lying slumped there with a sticker of Numa on his bucket. *pained noises*

Rex is so gentle and caring and comforting here. You can tell just how much he cares.

I didn’t realise Waxer puts his hand on Rex’s shoulder.

Just realised these are literally Waxer’s dying breaths. Now I’ve made myself even more sad.

“But…it was…*tear falls*...you”

The way Waxer’s tear falls and the little almost sob he makes before he says “you” and the terrified and horrified expression on his face is just, I don’t have the words.

Rex has this really open, sad and devastated expression and then his face hardens and his jaw moves and sets. That man is out for justice and nothing is going to get in his way. Rex is on the warpath now.

That moment when all the 501st and 212th clones step forward as one after Rex basically asks them to commit treason. That was so badass. Yassssssss

This is where that gif of Rex and the clones marching and looking all badass as Rex puts his helmet comes from. I was kind of expecting it to be a bigger moment but this is something I’ve come to realise that a lot of these major moments for the clones that appear in gifs all the time are often really quick, blink and you’ll miss it moments in the show.

Dammit Dogma, you were so close to figuring it out!

Love the way the fancy sci-fi floor of the brig moves down and Rex comes right into view standing there looking all badass.

Rex standing there facing Krell, flanked by his men and backlit by the fancy sci-fi lighting. He just spends his entire time looking all badass.

“It’s treason, then.” Yes fuck face, time for you to die!

“Explain your actions.” Ahahahahahah yassssssss get him Rex.

One thing I don’t get is why some of the clones are running at Krell? You’re just going to get sliced in half with his lightsabers! There’s one shot of a 212th clone just running straight at Krell and that's exactly what happens. What did you think was going to happen?!

“...by creatures bred in some laboratory!” Fuck. Right. Off.

Ffs Dogma

I really get the sense there’s a lot of meaning and experiences behind Rex’s little speech here. Especially the references to not being droids. This is where that quote “You have to learn to make your own decisions.” comes from.

You can see Dogma doubting himself the entire time here but it’s Tup that finally gets through to him and makes him lower his weapon.

Lmao of course the evil baddie gets the disembodied monologue with the echoing voice and the maniacal laughter.

Holy fuck we just see a clone get impaled by a lightsaber. So much for being an “animated kids TV show”. That was brutal. Omg it happens 3 more times as well, fuck. And then Krell just breaks the spine of another clone over his knee. Flinching at this.

Oh, that is clever Tup.

Didn’t notice this before but that’s Kix next to Rex when he’s telling the troopers to lure Krell towards Tup. You can see the medic symbol on his shoulder.

Omg Krell just impaled another clone. Fuck me this is brutal.

When Krell is running towards Tup, just before he steps on the Umbaran sarlacc tentacle, you can see Tup lower his blaster and sort of slump and turn away.

Deeply enjoying seeing Krell getting thrown around by the Umbaran sarlacc.

Yaaaaaaaaasssss go Tup!

Also enjoying Rex roll Krell over with his boot. Kind of harks back to earlier in the arc when Krell did the same to a dead clone. Have some of your own medicine you bastard.

Yes yes, serious scene and all that, but Rex standing with his legs wide apart as the sci-fi floor in the brig descends is just uuuuuuugh. That is a stance.

“Because you’re inferior.” This is just fuelling my hatred for Krell at this point

Jesse’s concerned face and little nose scrunch listening to Krell saying the Jedi are going to lose the war :(

Oh Dogma, you poor thing. His little heartbroken and devastated face. He thought he was doing the right thing and he was just being manipulated the entire time.

It’s a really tiny moment but when we get the shot of Rex snarling in disgust at Krell, you can see Jesse and Fives over his shoulders. Jesse still looks concerned, worried and shocked at what he’s just heard about how the war is going to end. Fives just looks pissed and completely unimpressed.

I saw this earlier but forgot to note it. Rex has a little darker mark on the back of his head. It’s in the middle, just above his hairline.

Ah, so this is what Appo looks like. No wonder I can never recognise him. He’s got a standard regulation clone haircut and no tattoos. The only way I can tell it’s him is the white downwards pointing arrow on the forehead of his bucket. He does have blue pauldrons though and a slightly different blue marking on his chest plate that kind of looks like an abstract version of the Eiffel tower.

That’s the moment Rex realises he needs to kill Krell

Oh the utterly devastated look on Dogma’s face. You poor, poor thing.

I get the distinct impression Fives is pretty unimpressed with Dogma, which kind of makes sense seeing as they’re basically opposites. Fives believes in doing what is right, even if it means disobeying orders and especially if the orders are wrong. He said as much in his speech. Dogma’s entire existence up until this point has been about following orders, no matter what they are.

“On your knees.” Yes very serious scene and all that but also omg sir yes sir immediately sir

Jesse’s little nose scrunch as he angrily jabs the Umbaran control panel. I adore him so much.

Oh man, you can really see how much Rex is struggling already. It’s written plainly across his face.

“I said, On. Your. Knees.” The unholy noises that just came out of me. Omg sir I just hnnnnnnnnnn

Oh poor Rex. He’s struggling so much. He’s shaking. When have we ever seen Rex shake before? You can see how much he’s battling with himself. He’s going through so many emotions you can basically see his internal battle play out on his face.

I think there’s a moment where Rex realises he can’t follow through with it before…

FUCK YES DOGMA

That shot is definitely framed so it initially looks like Rex has shot Krell before he lowers his gun and we see Dogma holding Fives’ blaster. It's even smoking.

Both Fives and Dogma’s faces here are utterly heartbreaking. Dogma looks so broken and Fives just looks so sad. I think in this moment he also realises he’s been wrong about Dogma. Or at least respects him for what he did.

So the last we see of Dogma is him being loaded onto a LAAT/i in binders. I wish we found out about what happens to him.

Rex looks so sad and resigned as Fives tells him that Umbara’s been taken.

Fives saying “We took Umbara.” immediately followed by a shot of a clone on a stretcher and other injured clones really hammers home the message of how pointless this all was.

“What’s the point of all this? I mean, why?” Rex saying what we’re all thinking.

“But I do know that someday this war is gonna end.” Oh Fives, if only you knew *sobs*

“Then what? We’re soldiers. What happens to us then?” Oh Rex, if only you knew *sobs harder*

In the group shot at the end, it’s Tup, Fives, Jesse and Rex. Out of all of them, only Rex makes it out alive. Tup, Fives and Jesse all die. And all of their deaths are caused by, or directly connected to, the inhibitor chips. Fuck that’s grim.

Ok I’m emotionally devastated all over again so I’m going to go curl up into a ball and sob about clones again.

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galeofquarterdeep · 19 days

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A few silly thoughts abt the domino squad

The domino squad is probaly one of the most important but also somehow underrated parts of the entirety of the Clone Wars series.

The name 'Domino Squad' is like one of the first things that strikes me as something remarkble. It describes the characters perfectly. They are called the Domino squad because they set off a domino effect!

So we start out with their training; they weren't able to work together, which ultimately led to Hevy forming a closer bond to 99. Hevy, Droidbait and Cutup died on Rishi, but Echo and Fives were pushed forward, back to Kamino. Dominos fell and pushed forward their brothers. If 99 hadn't been close to Hevy, he would probably not have been as confident as he was during the Battle of Kamino. This led to his death, the death of a Hero but if it hadn't been for Hevy's influence on 99, he might not have fallen that way.

Echo and Fives became Arch troopers, which led to Echo's death and Fives' isolation. Fives grew closer to Tup and Rex, this made him one of the people Rex trusted the most. During Umbara it was Rex's trust in his men (in the episodes the focus is on Fives) that made him question Krell's decisions. They survived Umbara because of this.

Fives discovered the inhibitor chip, which he might not have if he hadn't grown close to Tup. And it was Fives' words to Rex that were the first thing that Rex remembered during the Order 66. Rex being able to remember Fives and warn Ahsoka in those last few seconds, made it possible for him and Ahsoka to survive.

The last domino fell and revealed a pattern that was twisted and cruel but not unsavable.

THEREFORE, I believe that the name of the Domino Squad is a reference to the roles they play in the Clone Wars. They are the reason there was still hope at the end. They were so much more important.

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk

#i wrote this when i was drunk #a few silly thoughts #the clone wars #star wars #clone wars #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #clone trooper hevy #clone trooper droitbait #clone trooper cutup #domino squad #I have never had a normal thought about them #have fun with this

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kaminocasey · 1 year

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Do You Hear the People Sing Part 7

Summary: Fox does as he said he would and finds you.

Pairing: Commander Fox x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Sexual implications, Violence, Injuries, Angst

WC: 2K

A/N: WELL, here is the second to last chapter! The next will be the Epilogue! I'm very excited and also very sad bc I've been working on this since June and I've come to truly care for Fox more than I expected. Thank you for reading it and reblogging and liking and commenting. I'm appreciative of all of you. <3

Do You Hear the People Sing Masterlist

“Commander Fox.” Fives and Jesse approach an incredibly stressed and sleep deprived Fox.

Fox had yet to meet the two arc troopers, never hardly working with the 501st but he’s heard good things about the two men. He heard they had a huge hand in the successful mission on Umbara and that they’d helped take down the rogue Jedi turned Sith Pong Krell. It for sure made his job easier that he didn’t have to deal with the Sith Scum.

“Fives. Jesse.” Fox sticks his hand out to shake their hands. “Good to finally meet you guys. Heard a lot about you.”

“Likewise.” Jesse nods. “We’re here to help.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Fox tells them, genuinely.

He’s exhausted and has barely slept five hours in the last week. You’ve been gone far too long. He wakes up at night, angry and in tears. He tells himself that he can sleep when he gets you back safely.

“Fives and Jesse are two of the best arc troopers out there.” General Skywalker assures Fox.

“I can also confirm that.” Rex tells Fox, patting him on the back.

“We’re going to get her back, Commander.” Anakin assures him.

They’d been working tirelessly to find any sort of clue as to where you were. They’d finally found an informant of Dooku’s who barely took any sort of convincing, he was so afraid of Skywalker. It was a good thing too, because Fox was nearing desperation… There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to get you back at this point.

As they board the ship, Fox thanks the men of the 501st and tells them to wake him up as soon as they reach Serenno. He knows he needs sleep. Before this, he was used to little sleep. He’d get maybe five hours a night. Now… he’s starting to experience dizziness and hallucinations.

Yesterday, he thought he saw you walk past him and he started to chase after you. It was only one of the Coruscant medics and she was rightfully scared out of her mind when Fox grabbed her. He had apologized profusely.

Fox finds a seat to take a nap in, not even caring if it’s comfortable. Within two seconds of sitting, he falls right asleep, dreaming of simpler days with you.

I’m gonna marry this woman, Fox thinks to himself, watching you sing along to the music as you cook breakfast, wearing his shirt. He’d never seen someone so beautiful.

When you turn around, you see your partner and start grinning immediately. You’d only been going out maybe a couple months and this was the first time that Fox stayed over.

There had been a peaceful protest the day before, one that thankfully stayed peaceful, and Fox had offered to walk you home. When you had gotten home, you asked him if he wanted to stay.

“Good morning.” You make him a plate.

“Good morning, cyare.” He comes over to you, kissing you.

You set the pan back down on the stove, wrapping your arms around the clone commander’s neck, running your hands through his curls.

“How do you look so perfect in the morning?” He takes the plate from your hands, sits it down, and backs you up against the counter.

“I don’t, but you’re sweet for saying so.” You kiss him again as he picks you up and sits you on the counter.

“Don’t argue with me.” He moves his lips to your neck and your mind goes blank except with need.

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him as close as possible. Breakfast is suddenly forgotten as he carries you back to bed to have his way with you.

You had tried to escape. You had tried really hard. Even made it to Dooku’s hangar and almost to a ship, despite not knowing the first thing about flying. But you were prepared to deal with that problem when you got to the ship.

Except… Ventress had intercepted you and beat the shit out of you, dragging you kicking and screaming back to your cell by your hair.

Then, you tried again when some droid had brought you breakfast, which Ventress had been anticipating and force choked you so hard that you thought you teetered the near death line a little too closely.

You weren’t a Jedi. You weren’t a clone. You weren’t a warrior. You weren’t built or trained for this sort of thing.

Ventress had broken your spirit. You tried to fight back… and you lost. Fox had no idea where you were and you would most likely die here. Wherever here is.

All you know is, you’d rather die than join the Sith.

“Fox, we’re here.” Rex wakes him up, gently.

Fox wakes up with a start and stands up, swaying with tiredness. Rex keeps him up straight.

“Remember what I said about your emotions, commander.” Skywalker reminds him.

“Ha.” Rex walks away.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Anakin follows after him.

“Are you alright?” Thorn asks Fox, coming up from the cockpit.

Fox nods. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sure? You don’t need to sit it out?” Stone asks him.

Fox gives him a “You’re joking, right?” look and Thorn just pats him on the back, clearly having been joking to lighten the mood a little bit. Fox feels a little bad that he's been so dark and broody this last week, but he knows that Thorn understands.

“Let’s go get her back.” Fox nods and goes with Thorn and Stone out the hatch.

“Ohhh little rebel.” Ventress’ voice sings.

You ignore her, pulling the thin piece of fabric that they’d given you up closer to your shoulder. Perhaps if you just ignore her, she’ll leave you alone.

“Your friends are here to get you.” She taunts you.

Your heart lurches at the thought of Fox. You don’t believe her, though. This is just a new trick.

“It’s too bad it’s no use.” She grabs your arm, yanking you up from the cot.

You’re still bruised and in pain from her beating the crap out of you the first time. You’re pretty sure you have a few cracked ribs. Pain shoots through your chest and in your legs.

“Let… me go.” Your voice cracks as you try to pull your arm away from her, obviously not succeeding.

“Amazing.” Ventress pulls you toward the door. “You still have an ounce of fight in you.”

You limp, feebly, as she drags you back toward the hangar that you had tried desperately to escape to the first time. You barely have it in you to lift up your head.

“Ventress! Let her go!” You suddenly hear a familiar deep voice that you think belongs to Anakin Skywalker.

Anakin Skywalker is here?

Weakly, you look up in time to see a blue lightsaber coming your way. Soon after, there’s blaster fire coming from the other side and you see Fox, Thorn, Stone, three clones in blue armor and Ahsoka Tano.

Fox yells your name and your eyes lock onto him.

Fox. He came for you. He found you.

“Fox.” You whisper, falling to your knees as Ventress pushes you away and starts to go head to head with Anakin Skywalker.

Ahsoka and Fox rush to your side.

Fox found you. He finally found you and he can’t stop crying as he and Commander Tano pull you safely to their ship with Thorn and Stone covering them as they do so. He knows he shouldn’t be crying like this in front of a Jedi commander but right now, he can’t bring himself to give a single fuck. You’re here and back in his arms. That’s all that matters.

Ahsoka helps you into a seat and Fox tears off his helmet, dropping it to the floor as he falls to his knees in front of you.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” Ahsoka pats you on the shoulder, walking away.

You and Fox look at each other with tears streaming down both of your faces as he cups your face, kissing you desperately between sobs.

“It’s…okay.” You choke. “I’m… okay.”

“I’m so sorry, cyare. I’m so so sorry.” He begs you for forgiveness.

“Me too…” You whisper against his lips.

He continues to kiss you, panting against you.

“I love you so much.” He tells you. “Always. I’m never letting you go again. Please believe me.”

“I love you, too.” You assure him. “And I do.”

He finally stops crying and rests his head in your lap, holding onto your legs, and you comb your fingers through the familiar black curls, brushing your fingers across the gray patch that you’ve missed so much.

You look up at Thorn and Stone and they’re smiling down at you, clearly happy to see you as well. You’re just as happy to see them.

“Sorry, I’m such a mess.” You swallow the lump in your throat that keeps forming.

“Don’t be. We’re just glad you’re alright.” Thorn nods to you, leading Stone away.

Fox gets back up, sitting in the chair next to you, checking all your bruises and cuts, wincing at all that he finds.

When Skywalker and the three blue armored clones finally get back on board, they take off immediately.

Only once you’re in hyperspace do you finally relax. Exhaustion sets in as soon as the adrenaline wears off and you feel yourself go weak again.

Ahsoka brings over a medic by the name of Kix so he can check you for any serious damage, which you don’t think you have, but you still let him check you over with a scanner. Fox’s eyes and hand never leave you. Not even for a moment. You’re almost sure they never will again.

“You have a few cracked ribs but no internal bleeding.” Kix, tells you, giving you something for the pain.

Fox doesn’t leave your side for even a second. As soon as Anakin Skywalker comes in, you know you’re about to be questioned.

“General… this can surely wait, right?” Fox stands up, protectively. “She needs rest.”

“I’m sorry, Fox… It can’t. I need to know what happened while everything is still fresh in her mind.” He tells him.

Fox looks down at you as if waiting for you to tell him to fight the general. It’s sweet, but unnecessary. You look at the general and nod.

“I’ll answer your questions, general.” You tell him.

You understand why he’s doing this. It’s not that big of a deal and you know the sooner you do this, the sooner you can take a nap and be alone with Fox again.

“Please, call me Anakin.” Anakin comes in and stands next to you.

“Or Skyguy as I like to call him.” Ahsoka appears in the doorway, chuckling.

“What do you want to know?” You ask him.

After Anakin finishes asking you questions, Fox helps you into a hoverchair and takes you to one of the bunk rooms. He helps you lay down and starts to sit on the floor but you pull him into the bunk with you.

“Are… are you sure?” He asks you, softly.

He hesitates but you’ve missed him desperately the last six months. If he turns you away now, it may kill you.

“Please… I need you.” You whisper. “Unless you don’t want to-”

“No, cyare. Of course I want to.” He gently climbs over you into the bunk. “I just know you’re in pain.”

“The pain meds that Kix gave me kicked in.” You tell him. “I need to be held by my riduur.”

With that last word, Fox aligns his body with yours, gently holding you close as you lay on your back. You feel his breath hitch as breathes you in and takes your hand, bringing it up to his lips before gently resting it down at your side. And soon after, you hear his soft snores that you’d missed so deeply.

For the first time in six months, you both finally feel at peace. You can finally sleep peacefully again, knowing Fox is never going anywhere ever again.

TAGS: @grievouus @brynhildrmimi @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @misogirl828 @rexandechosandwich @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @twistedstitcher27 @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @ttzamara @erishimoon @brieblade @grizzersmamma @urfavwifeyy @tazmbc1 @stardust9905 @justanothersadperson93 @nekotaetae @eternalwaffle

#tcw #the clone wars #tcw fox #commander fox #commander fox x reader #commander fox x you #tcw fox x reader #tcw fox x you

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lan-octopie · 3 months

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i've seen a post the other day that was a some kind of analysis of a scene from tcw blue shadow virus arc where it was stated that anakin forgot about his padawan in favour of padme after they were both rescued from that lab with the blue shadow virus.

however i've recently rewatched the said arc and i cannot exactly agree that anakin forgot about anyone? when the virus is set loose, the lab is sealed and obi-wan and anakin go back to theed, they're immediately told there's an antidote on a planet iego and anakin wants to go there the very next second because, and i almost quote, his padawan and padme are trapped in the lab. he doesn't forget about either of them through the episode. when he and obi-wan talk about them, they talk about them both.

now, he does kind of disregard the clones' lives but no more than any other character so far? besides general krell or whatever was that guy's name from the incident on umbara. the clones are generally treated horribly, just as separatists droids are, anakin isn't even the worst here.

also, back to padme, before they're all rescued padme and ahsoka call obi-wan and anakin, saying that they destroyed all the droids and the planet is safe. then padme tells anakin to never unseal the lab and says her goodbyes to him, clearly thinking she's going to die soon. so i really cannot begrudge at a man, who thought his wife was going to die so very very soon, for running straight to her to check on her. and i don't quite see her praise about ahsoka as a reminder to him about his padawan since he has never forgotten about her in the first place. and he made sure to praise her, it's not like he could do more after the rescue than he'd already done for all the victims of the virus.

and there was also a point about how padme was less sick than ahsoka. yeah, padme was exposed to the virus later than ahsoka but if you closely, ahsoka is a little bit more resistant to the virus than humans. like, when she and padme call anakin and obi-wan, padme looks almost as bad as ahsoka even though she fell ill later than her. besides, viruses tend influence different people differently, and i believe that is also the case here, since there's at least one clone who presumably died only after a few hours of getting ill. this all, of course, doesn't excuse anyone treating ahsoka's condition lighter than padme's. and nobody does treat it lightly? and certainly not anakin.

(the virus is kind of weird by the way. if it kills so quickly how can it be carried from a person to person? shouldn't it be a little slower or something...)

so these are my thoughts. you don't have to agree with me, that's fine, i don't exactly need to know about that. this is just what i've seen myself and how i interpreted it.

#anakin skywalker #padme amidala #ahsoka tano #star wars the clone wars #blue shadow arc #pro jedi dni #please i don't want any arguements i dont have time for that #just my personal thoughts

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letitrainathousandflames · 11 months

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Death Scars Pt 1 [Waxer]

inspired by this request for Waxer alive with the scars of what killed him in canon

Rating: T

Word count: 2.5 K

Summary: After waking up from the medical care that had saved his life, Waxer meets Kix and they both discuss the tragedy of Umbara

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, umbara arc, survivor's guilt, pong krell mentioned, canon-typical death in flashbacks, ask to tag

“It’s gonna scar.”

“Which one?”

Waxer stared at the uneven circular burns on his stomach, the scabs within their core fresh and deep red rimmed by a sickening orangish-yellow shade that would lighten to a shade a couple hues lighter than his own skin closer to the very edge of the wounds. Jagged lines of protruding scar tissue crossed horizontally by narrow stitches stretched from the burns, some shorter enough not to need the stitches but just as stark as the larger ones.

He then ghosted a finger over the linear path embedded in his lower right stomach, feeling the rows of stitches keeping the incision shut. It didn’t look nearly as bad as the blaster bolts, but it was drawn in the same blemished tone as them, becoming darker close to the very center of the sunken line.

Kix blew out a sigh, looking up at him. The medic looked like shit, and if you told him that he would most likely take it as a compliment, his vanity gone after the first forty-eight hours of this damned mission and forgotten for good at this point. His eyes were red-rimmed and weary, the bags under them paired with the unshaven facial hair of the past days darkening his features making him look much older than his ten years – a nat-born’s twenty.

“All of them.” Kix said wearily with a shrug. “We ran out of bacta in the field as soon as I was done fixing you up enough for an op, so by the time we got access to these bacta tanks, the wounds had been open for too long. At least is healed enough that we don’t have to worry about avoiding infection. You should still keep it clean and avoid any friction on the area – trust me when I say you do not want to end up ripping these scabs off by accident.”

Waxer nodded, fingers still skimming the partially healed wounds. When Rex had spoken to him in the battlefield, he thought he was a goner. The pain of being shot at near point-blank range had been so intense his own blaster had fallen off his grip.

He had thought of little Numa, the kid he’d grown so attached to and would most likely never see again. He thought of his plans for after the war – because the only way to keep pushing through the nightmare of their lives was to keep your head up and believe in an after, believe in a future that would make it all worth it. He thought of Boil, and realized that if he had to die, he’d rather die not knowing whether he, too – his brother, his best friend – had perished in there with so many others, another victim of their own fellow clone’s blaster fire.

Even now, he didn’t dare ask. He couldn’t find in himself the strength to ask Kix whether his second-in-command had survived the massacre.

Kix patted him lightly on the knee, bringing him back to the present. To the bright white walls and the smell of disinfectant and cleanliness that would always end up reminding any clone of Kamino.

“This is the Umbaran base’s medical facility.” Kix supplied him, the medic’s eyes darting around the place before settling back on his while Waxer’s feet dangled awkwardly from where he sat at the edge of his gourney. “The equipment here is good. I was lucky to be able to continue your care here. Stars know the first aid out there in the dirt is as far from what I call ‘ideal conditions’ as possible.”

Waxer huffed a sound through his nose that he hoped would sound like a laugh. He knew the routine too well – a medic making light of a situation that most likely had been horrifying and burdensome to him in order to make his patient feel better about the whole ordeal. Hopefully to make himself feel better, too.

Which reminds him…

“Did you… did you save me?”

Kix’s eyes shift away from him, his feet shuffling a half-step back from Waxer’s personal space, the medic reaching for a datapad resting on a small table by his bedside.

“Your unity’s medics were busy patching up the other men.”

“Shouldn’t you be patching up your own?”

Kix shrugged, seemingly too interested in the charts on his datapad’s screen, wetting his lips and setting his jaw. His entire frame had shifted from a relatively relaxed posture to a tense, almost awkward one.

“You know how basic medic protocol goes. The ones screaming have enough strength in them to scream, they can wait. The quiet ones – the unresponsive ones, those are the ones in need of urgent care.”

“Or abandonment.”

The word sat heavily between the two of them, and Kix continued to stubbornly pretend to read a chart that didn’t have more than a dozen words in it. Waxer was having none of it, pressing on:

“I had at least two fatal wounds the moment I dropped, from what I could gather in that mess. I heard about you, Kix. You’re a kriffing good medic from the five-oh-first, which is led by one of the most reckless generals in the army – General Kenobi’s words, not mine. You are experienced enough to know when a man is worth saving and when he’s nothing but a waste of stim and bacta that will bleed out to death before you can do anything to save him. And you must’ve known, from your first glance at the holes in my armor, that I wasn’t gonna make it.”

Kix traces the words on his datapad’s screen with a fingernail as if he’s a cadet still learning to read basic. Waxer watches the lump in his throat bob up and down as the other man swallows thickly.

“Like you said, I’m a kriffing good medic. I knew I could fix you.”

Waxer took a moment to draw in a deep breath and keep his temper in check. He’d started having less and less patience for people trying to banthashit him the more he’d hung around with Boil.

“Fine.” He snapped, stepping down from the gurney and taking a moment to assess his balance; He was still a tad woozy from the bacta, and he blinked a couple of times to clear his head “Can you give me a sitrep? I need to get back to my troops.”

That got Kix to look up from the datapad and finally look at him in the eye.

“You are in no shape for combat, lieutenant.”

“That’s up for me to judge. Where’s my gear?”

Kix grabbed Waxer by his elbow, stopping him in his tracks.

“We’ve taken over the capital city! Everything is under control! Our biggest problem now is patching up the wounded and keeping shinies from shooting themselves after having this shitshow as their first incursion! Our- The general they sent to lead us in Skywalker’s stead is in a kriffing containment cell because he is a traitor!”

Waxer turned to face Kix, watching the medic’s shoulders rise and fall with his breathing, his jaw tensed and his teeth bared as he continued:

“He is the one who sent your men the intel that the Umbarans were wearing our armor, and he told us that your men were Umbarans wearing their armor! He wanted us to kill each other, he was kriffing laughing about it when we confronted him-”

Waxer’s eyes widened in horror as he remembered that last glimpse he had before being shot – a man he’d just killed, wearing 501st blue, their helmet being partially knocked off his head as he fell, exposing brown skin and an all-too-familiar jawline.

In the chaos, one of his men had nearly tripped over the corpse, shoving the helmet further away and revealing a clone’s face underneath it, painfully young, open-eyed and dead. Killed by a brother’s hand. By Waxer's.

The moment his gaze locked with the clone’s glassy stare, two blaster shots burned through his armor, sending a vivid spark of molten heat to his lower stomach. His legs had crumpled underneath it, and he thought he’d heard a clone’s voice screaming somewhere in the distance.

They’re clones! We’re all clones! Hold your fire! They’re clones!

The armored man closest to him had lowered his smoking blaster, nearly tripping in his haste to kneel by his side. His helmet clattered to the muddy ground before his hands quickly shot down to pry Waxer’s own helmet off, the cold atmosphere of the Umbaran permanent night meeting his sweat-dampened face as he looked up to the clone medic of the 501st, Kix.

Kix had reached for his medpack, retrieving a stim from it and unceremoniously stabbing it into Waxer’s neck as he yelled out his Captain’s name.

“Rex! Rex, lieutenant Waxer is still alive!”

Waxer’s eyes had stung with tears as he kept hearing clone voices all around him, some screaming, others crying. He had ordered his men to gun down every creature dressed in 501st blue clone armor, as an act of revenge for their brothers... and it had been his very brothers that they had shot instead.

And now Waxer knew how that had come to happen.

Waxer looked at Kix in utter bewilderment, eyes wide and mouth dropping open as he tried and failed to understand it. A traitor general. A clone-killing jedi. How could this be?

Kix stared back at him, something deeply wounded in his gaze. Waxer shook his head, running a hand over his shaven scalp, a scalding fury climbing its way from his chest and up his throat.

“Where is he? We have to kill that kriffing-”

“He’s in a containment cell.” Kix held his hands up placatingly “One of our youngest troopers – Tup, he managed to lure him into a trap, and we stunned him. Rex is on his way to interrogate him now.”

Waxer nodded slowly, and Kix went over to a desk close to the gurney Waxer had been resting on, returning with a bundle of black cloth in his hand, offering it to the lieutenant. Waxer took his blacks wordlessly, shoving his head and arms in it and carefully pulling it over his scarred torso. His eyes must’ve been blazing with the same rage that scorched his insides, and he noticed the way Kix lowered his gaze at it.

His demeanor softened some, as did his voice as he spoke reassuringly to the medic:

“It’s not you I’m mad at, Kix.”

Kix scoffed, flashing his tongue over his lips, brows knitting together.

“You should be. I was the one who shot you.”

Waxer shut his eyes for a small moment, bringing his hand to his stomach. Even the slightest friction from the synthweave fabric as he breathed was making him wince.

“I know. I saw it. And I saw your face, after, when you- Yeah.”

Kix gritted his teeth, looking back at him. His eyes had a sheen of moisture, and Kix kept stubbornly blinking at it.

“I was so fucking proud. When I saw your armor, with that- that little green twi’lek kid painted on it, I thought, ‘this bastard killed 212th’s Waxer. Probably left his body for one of those kriffin’ reavers to gnaw at like the men we lost before’. And I wanted to make it hurt. I wanted that Umbaran incapacitated, but I wanted him to die slowly, so I aimed-”

Waxer let him speak. He knew the medic needed it, and he, too, needed to hear it. Needed to know the other man’s pain. Kix’s following words came in a frighteningly cold tone:

“Two blasts to the stomach, where the armor plates are thinner for mobility. At the right height, to make sure at least one major organ was permanently unsalvageable, and to hopefully cut clean through their spine on the blast’s way out. I took aim, I fired. But he- you-”

“I moved.” Waxer supplied quietly, and Kix nodded a couple of times

“Yeah. So the aim- it got compromised, and I hit your spleen and kidney instead. The second bolt grazed your intestines too, and… And when Rex screamed that you were clones, all that adrenaline, all that excitement, that victorious feeling, I just-” a sharp pant hissed through Kix’s teeth “I’ve seen so much shit, Waxer, had so many brothers die under my hands and I just push through because this is the job, this is how it goes, and I’m used to seeing them die but…”

“But never from your own blasts.”

Waxer finished it for him, and Kix let out a pained gasp, the tears finally spilling down the rim of his lashes before he screamed out, throwing the datapad across the room like a trooper would do a grenade. The thing banged loudly against the wall, letting a dented chip in the stark material, clattering to the floor with its cracked screen blinking some, its images glitching.

“I- we did everything right!” Kix gritted out, more tears running down his cheeks “We were outnumbered, their tech’s better, they have kriffing bioweapons, but we pushed through and we did the job, and that- that demagolka was toying with us all along!”

Waxer walked up to Kix, one hand grabbing at his nape, the other yanking him by the arm until he had the medic held tightly in a hug. Kix’s entire body was stiff with tension and trembling with rage, and Waxer held him in a durasteel grip.

“I’m sorry.” He uttered quietly.

“He… he made us shoot you!” Kix’s screaming subsided to breathless sobbing, the words being punched out of him with each shallow breath “He sent us in small squads to die, a-and then he sent us off to shoot you! Our own brothers, our-”

“I know.” Waxer rubbed his thumb at the back of Kix’s head where he held him by the nape “I know now. And I’m so kriffing sorry, vod.”

Kix’s entire body was shaking with the strength of his sobs, his cheek wet against Waxer’s own.

“I sh- I shot so many of ‘em, Waxer. So many before I got to you, and they are dead now and I… I…”

“Wasn’t your fault.” Waxer said firmly, shaking Kix some for good measure “None of yours. It wasn’t. You hear me? It wasn’t your fault, vod.”

Waxer could no longer understand Kix’s words at that point, mumbled apologies and pleas for forgiveness, for none of it to have ever happened, for this nightmare to end already. Once Kix’s frantic panting had slowed down some, Waxer pulled back enough to press his forehead to Kix in a keldabe.

“You did all you could. And you saved my life. I will forever be grateful for it, Kix.” He pulled back, letting go of Kix and forcing his own face into a smile as much as he could manage “Now, let me go round up my medics so that they can cover for your while you take a breather, okay?”

Kix shook his head, wiping at his eyes and swallowing down thickly, clearing his throat.

“No, I have to get back to work. Need to do some checkups on the survivors, have to see if there was progress with the-”

Waxer placed a hand on Kix’s shoulder, shaking his head.

“Five minutes. Take at least five minutes, and then you get back to it. I got this.”

After a long moment, Kix nodded.

“Five. Not one minute more.”

“Medics.” Waxer grinned, walking towards the medbay’s door. “You’re all the same, aren’t you?”

“That’s four and fifty-three seconds now.”

They both laughed, because they had to pretend they still could. And they both took a breath and told themselves they could still get back on their feet after this, because they had to pretend they could.

#umbara arc #clone medic kix #lieutenant waxer #tcw #the clone wars #my fics #ooohhh look at that! a fic that is neither E (18+) or reader-centric!#i didn't know I could still make those!

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swift-creates · 8 months

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@tbb-appreciation-week DAY 2: ECHO (09/04) — No Order 66 AU | Touching Foreheads | "This wasn't supposed to happen."

characters and relationships: Fives, Echo, (dream) mentions of Krell, Rex and Jesse

warnings: Umbara is its own warning, mentions of violence, death and PTSD, one real-world swear word

Notes: I've wanted to write a TBB!Fives AU for a while now, and now i finally did hehe. can you tell i love (hurting) these two

read on AO3

Grabbing tentacles, thick shadows, blue-gray fog, and screams. Fives had seen this in his mind’s eye far too many times.

They could only guess at where Krell would appear next, where he would leap out of the shadows and add to the 501st’s list of casualties with his quartet of lightsabers, four-armed strikes powerful even without using the Force. Fives pushed through the jungle, the terrain that would be difficult to navigate even if they hadn’t been shrouded in darkness. He remained on Rex’s heels even as blasterfire sounded in the distance, a wailing chorus of death overlapping with the repeated audio over the comms. His helmet’s display zoomed through the dark, narrowed in on Krell’s flashing blades slicing through flesh and plastoid. “He’s coming.” He fought down the dread, the nausea that still crept up his throat no matter how much he tried to train himself out of it, and knelt in front of Jesse, blaster at the ready.

Krell was there faster than he thought, his symphony of slaughter following with a sickening crunch of breaking bones, stealing his brothers’ lives with his bare hands, throwing them into unforgiving tree trunks, slamming them into the ground. Fives’ breath caught as he flung Tup by the head, and the younger trooper went falling somewhere past Fives’ line of sight. There was nothing he could do but force the sick feeling down, keep firing.

Fives blinked and Krell was in front of him. No. No, this isn’t how it went- Panic shot through his thoughts as he was picked up in one monstrous hand, and another raised a blue-bladed lightsaber. No, no no no nonononononononono- Krell brought it down in a sweeping blow, and-

“Fives.” Rex was shaking him awake, but his voice was pitched wrong, like something from a dream, so familiar yet so foreign.

“Fives, ya snoozin’ bantha, wake up.”

That was definitely not Rex. He opened his eyes to see Echo staring down at him, the worry ridge between his eyes furrowed despite his light-hearted words. “You okay, vod? You were doing your sleep-wriggling thing again, but you looked… scared.”

Fives sat up and drew his hands over his face, delaying his response for just a few seconds as he struggled to pack the memories of Umbara back away in their little boxes in his mind. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m… fine. Just a bad dream.”

Studying his face carefully for a moment, Echo turned so his back was to Hunter and sat on the bed by Fives’ leg. “We both know your bad dreams are bad, Fives. What was it this time?” He leaned in closer, lowered his voice. “Was it Lola Sayu again?”

“No-”

“Rishi?”

“No.” Fives looked away, folded his blanket with shaking hands, hoping Echo wouldn’t notice. But of course, he did. He reached over and took it from Fives, folded it neatly in half, quarters, eighths. Set it aside in one of the Marauder’s storage compartments and put his hand over his twin’s.

“You know you’re shit at lying to me.”

“Language.” Rex would have said it, but Rex wasn’t here, so Fives said it, and it made Echo laugh.

“Calm down there, buir. Omega’s still asleep.” He leaned back against the wall, looking at Fives, waiting for him to go on.

“Umbara.” That made Echo’s eyes widen, and he scooted closer.

“Oh. Force. You okay?” he asked, softer. “I know you said it was rough.”

Fives huffed dryly. “Rough is one word for it.” He paused, and Echo waited. It took a moment, but he found the story making its way slowly out. Echo didn’t say anything when he was done, just sat close to him, leaned in and pressed his forehead to Fives’.

“I’m sorry.”

Fives closed his eyes, leaned into his brother’s warm comfort. “It’s not your fault.” “I wasn’t there,” Echo said simply.

“And I don’t wish you were. You’re better off without those memories, trust me.”

Pulling back, Echo was quiet for a moment. “I know. But I wish I’d been with you. Even so.”

“Yeah, well. We’ll never know what would have happened, so. No point dwelling on it.” Fives got up and stretched, then squeezed Echo’s shoulder before heading to the ‘fresher. “I’m fine, Echo. Really.” He didn’t look totally convinced, but nodded anyway.

They went around their day as usual, and occasionally Fives would catch his brother giving him a concerned look. He rolled his eyes. For Force’s sake, he’d said he was fine.

(But that didn’t stop him from crawling into Echo’s bunk later that night and snuggling as close to him as humanly possible.)

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monako-jinn-stories · 1 year

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Crosshair X Fem!Reader FanFic

It Started With a Vacation

Main Master List

Story Master List

Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Thirty One (PG)

Chapter Thirty One (18+)

Chapter Thirty

You stare at yourself in the mirror, focusing on your eye bags and the lack of your normal skin tone. You probably shouldn’t even be standing much, but you want to get the trial over with as soon as possible.

Aid walks over to you, meeting the reflection of your eyes in the mirror. “I still don’t think you’re well enough to go.”

You sigh, turning to look at him directly. “I know. You’ve told me…what, 27 times now?”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re exaggerating.”

“And you’re overbearing,” you reply smoothly.

He just pinches the bridge of his nose before shaking his head and walking back over to check your data again. “Your blood levels aren’t even normal yet,” he mutters to himself.

“I’ll be fine,” you reply, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. You are feeling a bit tired already, standing this long has you winded. You don’t know how you’re going to make it to the Republic Center for Military Operations, but you at least hope you’ll get to ride in a transport for some of the way, and not walk it all. “You think they’ll take pity on me since I almost died?”

“I think they’ll take pity on Krell because you didn’t kill him.” You scoff at his response, and turn back to the mirror. “You need to sit down.”

“I’m fine,” you reply. “I feel fine.”

“You’re far from fine,” he replies. “You should have been put in a bacta tank until your body replenished the blood you lost. You definitely should not be standing, let alone standing trial.”

“I’ll be fine,” you reply simply, watching as your cheeks move with your words. You glance to the side of your reflection and watch as Aid turns to look at you again, locking eyes in the mirror for a second time.

“I threw up about a dozen times while treating you.” You close your eyes, knowing that his reactions only get worse the more he has to treat people. “Sans had to hold my arms down to stop me from pulling my hair out. Once I calmed back down, he redid my braid while humming that old song.”

“Which one?” you ask, a small smirk coming to your lips.

“You know the one. Ye-ye-ye-ye-yeh ye-ye-yeh ye-ye-yeh, oh hohohooooooooooo!” You let out a laugh, and quickly clutch your stomach and hold out an arm to catch you as you immediately feel lightheaded. Aid is there instantly, holding you steady. “I told you.”

You sigh, pushing away from him once you regain yourself. “And I told you, I’m fine. I want to get this trial done and over with so I can clear my name.”

“Why do you care so much about what they think?” he asks, folding his arms. “With as much as you complain about them, why does it matter so much to you?”

“Because, this is where I’m meant to be,” you reply, “the Jedi Order is my home.”

“I thought your home was Dohbar?”

You let out another sigh, closing your eyes. “My home is where the people I love are.”

“The 17th isn’t in the Jedi Order. Don’t you love us? Ahni and Kwol aren’t in the Jedi Order. Don’t you love them? The Bad Batch aren’t in the Jedi Order. Don’t you love them? And Cyar’ika-”

“Do not bring my daughter into this argument,” you snap, turning to look at him, once again fighting to stay upright. You swat away his hand as he tries to help you. You watch as pain briefly washes over his expression. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, “I just…the Jedi Order is what took me away from my father, my real father. It’s the only way I feel like I can have a connection to him. He was born on Coruscant, and had only visited Dohbar a handful of times. This was his home. He was a Jedi. And I am his daughter…”

“But you can’t just abandon your own daughter,” he replies.

“I’m not. I’m just…figuring things out.”

He looks at a chronometer then, reading the time under his breath before grumbling to himself. “It’s time for you to leave.” You nod, gathering your robe and slipping it on, pulling it up over your head. “You need to figure things out soon. You won’t have forever to tell him.” You pause, your breath getting stuck in your throat briefly. “He’ll understand, but not if you wait twenty years.”

“I know,” you reply quietly, “I’m just…figuring things out…”

The turbolift ride up to the courtroom is awkward. Your hands are in cuffs, yet you don’t think you could even try to use the force if you wanted to. You’re lightheaded, having nearly passed out just on the walk from the medcenter to the hangar. Thankfully, the Coruscant Guards that are escorting you have been nice enough to make sure you don’t trip.

As you walk out, the air feels stiff, and you try your best not to glance down at the drop on either side of you. You’re already dizzy enough, and you don’t need the height of the platform to add to it. You walk past another two guards before reaching your own platform. The two escorts don’t follow, and after a second the platform moves forward.

You look around at all the Jedi that are here for the trial. You recognize most of them, although some you wish weren’t here. On your side, Padmé walks out, and you assume she is who decided to step forward and represent you. On the other side, Admiral Tarkin walks out, presumably representing Krell. He stands with Tarkin, one set of arms folded against his chest, the other clasped behind his back. He gives you a sinister grin, and you fight the urge to speak out.

Palpatine walks out in front of you, and you bite your tongue to keep from making a sound or face of disgust. His eyes pierce through yours as he speaks, but you refuse to look away. “Y/n Monako-Jinn,” he starts, “you have been charged with aggravated assault to a fellow member of the Jedi Order, and a member of the Republic. This court will decide your fate. Prosecution, you may begin your arguments.”

Tarkin nods and walks forward on his platform until he is standing across from you. “Queen Monako and Master Jedi Jinn,” he starts, “I shall prove that you were the aggressor in the fight between you and Master Jedi Krell, and that you had every intention of killing him. When you are found guilty, I will ask the court that the full extent of the law be brought down upon you, including the penalty of death.”

“We have no right to sentence a royal of another planet to death!” Padmé interrupts, “that is far outside of our jurisdiction. Especially because Dohbar is not a Republic planet!”

“But we have every right to sentence a member of the Jedi Order,” Tarkin counters. “Please, let us continue this trial smoothly.” Padmé scoffs, folding her arms and letting Tarkin continue. “The acts of y/n Monako-Jinn were made out of uncontrolled rage. Having a Jedi who is unable to control their emotions, and a Jedi who sets out to kill others who disagree with them, is not a safe person to have. Especially when they are being trusted with defending our Republic and the worlds that align with it.”

You roll your eyes, thinking about how ironic it is for him to say that. “It’s Krell’s own lack of emotions or care for the clone troopers that led me to my…outburst,” you say, suddenly speaking up.

“You are not permitted to talk as of this moment,” Palpatine says, “you will know when it is your time to speak-”

“I don’t care what your rules are,” you say, cutting him off, “I am not an ordinary Jedi, and I will not sit quietly through this trial where I am being accused of attacking Krell for no reason.”

“I am not arguing that you did not have reason,” Tarkin counters, “I am arguing that you willingly attacked him with the intent to kill.”

You open your mouth to respond, but are cut off by Padmé speaking up. “Chancellor, if I could please step in,” Padmé says, and you turn to look at her curiously. Palpatine nods, and she takes a few steps forward. “Y/n’s acts were in the defense of Clone Force 99, and all other clone troopers out there. Master Jedi Krell antagonized her and provoked her into an attack, during which he continued to taunt her. Her outburst, as she put it, was a reasonable response, considering how she has been an advocate for clone rights ever since they were introduced.”

“And where is your proof of this statement?” Palpatine asks.

“I have witnesses who saw the event take place.”

“And are these witnesses the troopers of Clone Force 99 that you previously mentioned?”

She nods, holding strong. “Yes, a few of them are, but other troopers who are not a part of Clone Force 99 agreed to testify what they saw.”

“They may speak when it is your turn to present your case. But now, we must let Admiral Tarkin present his case.” Padmé nods, and you clench your jaw to keep yourself from snarking out another comment.

Tarkin clears his throat before beginning to speak again, and his voice makes you want to rip your ears off. “Y/n had no reason to attack Master Jedi Krell, especially not under the guise of protecting the clones as Senator Amidala claims.” He shoots her a brief glance before dragging his eyes over to look disdainfully at you. “Her aggressive and violent actions should not be over looked, and I believe that if they are, then she poses a threat to the peace effort.”

“Excuse me?” you blurt out, and you can feel the eyes of everyone in the room moving to stare at you.

“Y/n, if you would please remain quiet until you are called upon to speak-”

“No! I will not remain quiet!” you yell back, anger boiling inside you and making you a bit lightheaded. “I will not allow this man, who knows nothing about me, to drag my name through the mud!”

“I’m not sure if you understand how court trials are supposed to run,” he says in a condescending tone. “If you quiet down, you will know when it is your turn to speak.”

“I know how a karking court trial works!” you shout, “I’m a karking queen for Maker’s-” Before you can finish your sentence, a guard walks up to you and shocks you in the back, causing you to scream before falling to your knees, barely catching yourself with your hands. You gasp after he pulls away, leaving you trembling where you are.

“If you cooperate with us, that will not happen again,” Palpatine says. “You may not have realized it, but you are a prisoner of the Republic, and a traitor to the Jedi Order. You do not have the freedom that a free citizen does.”

You stare up at him, breathing heavily. Everything blurs for a second before it settles again. You struggle to push yourself up, nearly stumbling over the edge of your tiny platform before regaining your balance. “I did what I felt was right,” you say defiantly. “And I won’t wait for my turn to speak.” You pause, taking a deep breath, and Tarkin takes the opportunity to speak again.

“Chancellor Palpatine, this is highly against the procedures of a court trial. I suggest that we wait until she is willing to cooperate to continue this trail.”

“I won’t cooperate with your system,” you say, “I have no regrets over what I did. I would do it again.” The tension in the room grows, and you smirk briefly to yourself, knowing you now have everyone’s attention. “There is no need for a trial. I will outwardly admit that I attacked Krell with the intent to kill-”

“Chancellor, please!” Padmé cuts in, “y/n has recently suffered severe blood loss, I do not think she is healthy enough to continue this trial today.”

“I’m fine,” you retort, shooting her a brief glare. “I can speak. And I will. Whatever you choose to do to me, it’s an act against the fight for clone rights.” You take another pause, your legs beginning to feel tired. Maybe Aid was right… “They are humans. People. They deserve to be treated with the same respect that other Republic citizens are. And they deserve to be defended.”

“If they are Republic citizens, then they would not be given numbers, they would have names,” Krell counters. “They are weapons for us to use in the battle against the Separatists.” Tarkin shoots him a glare, clearly not happy that he spoke out.

“They have names, you ignorant bastard! And they aren’t just weapons!” you yell at him, anger boiling to the surface again. “You brought my attack onto yourself!” You pause again, wishing you had some water to quench your parched throat. “You provoked my actions by insulting innocent men and degrading them! And then later you insult me and my family, my master, and throw me against the side of a ship!”

“This is nonsense! She's making up lies right in front of us!” Krell defends.

“You are the liar!” you counter, hands clenching into fists as you take a steadying breath. “You are the reason so many troops have died in this war. You throw them at the enemy as if they’re broken toys. You have no care for their lives, and you only use them as a means to protect your own life. You are pathetic. You are not a Jedi, you are a fowl, bastard creature who belongs in a sarlacc pit. I intended to kill you during our fight, and I promise you, if I get another chance, I won’t fail again.” A hush falls in the room, and you glare at Krell before dragging your eyes to Palpatine. You can see something swirling in them, but aren’t able to discern what exactly it is.

“Guards,” he says, but the sound of a cane tapping hard on the floor causes everyone to turn to see who is making the sound.

“Let go free, y/n shall be,” Yoda says after everyone is quiet. “A true Jedi, she is not. An advocate for equal rights, she is. A valuable person to have in the Order. A good general. Pardoned, she shall be.”

“Grand Master Yoda,” Palpatine starts, “I’m afraid the Jedi do not have the right to-”

“A Jedi matter, this is. Involved, the Republic should not have been. Come, y/n,” Yoda says, using the force to bring your platform over to him. You silently step onto the main walkway, turning to look back at Palpatine. His face is set in a grim stare, and you let a smirk crawl onto your lips. It fades once you turn around, though. You might have one this battle, but you might not win another.

As you walk from the turbolift to your quarters, you feel the adrenaline draining from you. You’d gotten very worked up at the trial, but now, your body seems to be remembering that you still haven’t fully recovered. The few Jedi that pass you give you brief nods, barely glancing in your direction. You can’t tell if they’re proud of you for standing up, or upset with how easily you were let off the hook.

When you walk into your quarters, you’re greeted by no guests. You sigh, slipping your shoes off before making your way to your bedroom. “Crosshair?” you call, opening the door, but he isn’t there. You don’t know why you thought he would be. He doesn’t live here, and he’s likely on an important mission with the rest of the batch. You think about giving Jawa Squad a holocall to let them know the verdict, but decide against it. They probably already know, or are busy.

After slipping into comfier clothes, you crawl into your bed, letting out a heavy sigh as your head hits your pillow. All too soon, you realize that sleep won’t be coming to you. Your mind is running too much, and you can’t quiet your thoughts. Tarkin’s voice wanting to condemn you to death keeps playing in your head. Krell’s own false accusation of claiming that you had been lying. Padmé desperately trying to get the trial back on course. Palpatine’s intense staring.

You wake up with a start, sitting up way too quickly, and being met by a pair of warm, comforting arms. “It’s alright, cyar’ika,” Crosshair says gently, and you realize then that you’re panting. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

You sigh and fall back against him, and he rests his chin on your shoulder. “How long have you been here?”

“Just a few minutes. I wasn’t settled down yet. What happened?”

You shake your head, swallowing hard to push down the sick feeling in your throat. “I…it was the trial.” You feel him tense slightly, his arms wrapping a bit tighter around you. “Just some of the things said and done.”

“I heard it wasn’t…normal?”

“Yeah,” you admit, “I kinda interrupted it. A lot. And made it end before it ever really started.” He chuckles softly, and you feel his chest rumbling against your back.

“That’s my cyar’ika,” he mumbles, nuzzling into your neck. “I missed you.”

You let out a small giggle. “You haven’t seen me for what…maybe two days?”

“Two days too long,” he grumbles, nipping at your skin slightly. “Missed your pretty face…”

“Oh, is that all you missed?” you tease, and he lets out a huff before pulling you to lay down with him. You snuggle into his chest, and he hums in contentment.

“I missed everything about you. I was worried before you woke up.”

“I know,” you reply, letting out a sigh. “I’ll try harder to not get a piece of metal stuck in my leg.”

He huffs in amusement before grumbling slightly. “Tech got a nice talkin’ to from Aid when we got back.” He chuckles, remembering the funny moment.

“How come?”

“Because you’re not supposed to pull things from a wound because you’ll bleed out faster. He chased Tech around with the piece of metal at one point.” You laugh with Crosshair, imagining how funny it would have looked. “Aid yelled at him that if he was so smart, then how did he mess up so bad? Tech just said that he wasn’t a trained medic.”

“He about ripped me a new one when I got up and went to the trial today,” you reply, yawning as you suddenly remember your exhaustion. “He said I wasn’t…nearly recovered enough.”

He hums, letting his eyes shut. “He was right. You’re exhausted.”

“How can you tell?” you counter, stifling another yawn.

“Because you keep yawning,” he chuckled, “and your body feels very heavy. You need rest to regain your strength and energy.” You grumble to yourself, though you know he’s right.

“If I sleep, will you be here when I wake up?” you ask tiredly, nudging closer to him. His arms tighten around you, and he lets his hands run down to your waist.

“Of course, Princess,” he whispers, “now, rest. You’ll feel better.” You nod tiredly, not having the energy for a proper response.

You wake up to the sound of your alarm going off, and you hear Crosshair grumbling as he drowsily turns it off. “Whas’sat for?” he mumbles, slinking his arm back around you.

“Hmm,” you hum, trying to remember what you had set it for. You don’t have anywhere to be, and no important meetings with Ahni or Kwol…”Kriff!” you say, suddenly sitting up, once again too fast. Crosshair opens his eyes and looks at you with slight concern, but more curiosity. “It’s the secret project thing,” you explain, and he nods. “I have to holo him.” Crosshair nods again. “Uh…secret project,” you say with a shy smile. Crosshair frowns then, his brows furrowing together.

“I still can’t know?”

“I’m sorry,” you say with a sigh, “it’s not time yet. But I promise you, I’ll-”

“Tell me when you’re able to,” he finishes with a sigh. He uncovers himself and slips from your bed, and you watch with your own frown.

“I’m really sorry, Cross.”

“It’s okay,” he replies, “if it’s safer this way, then that’s all that matters. I just…” he trails off, getting lost in thought for a few moments. “I don’t like secrets.”

“Neither do I,” you reply. “But when the time is right. I promise.”

“I love you,” he says, looking back at you with a small smile.

“I love you too,” you reply, and his smile widens before he leans down and kisses you gently. It doesn’t last long, though, because you’re interrupted by your holo going off. You shoot him an apologetic smile as he glares at it before kissing your forehead and leaving the bedroom, letting you know that he’s going to cook something while you’re busy.

You shut and lock the door with a wave of your hand before answering your holo, a smile spreading wide over your face as Kwol holds Cyar’ika up to be seen. “Look! It’s your mommy!”

“Hello, Cyar’ika,” you giggle, “how is my little sweet doing?”

“She’s great,” Kwol says, and Ahni huffs in the background.

“She just got done spitting up all over my shirt,” Ahni says. “Of course, Kwol never has that happen to him.”

“Hey, the twins always spit up on me when they were babies, so it’s your turn now,” he replies, sticking his tongue out childishly, making Cyar’ika giggle. You laugh as well, soon seeing Ahni join the two. She gently takes Cyar’ika, smiling as she reaches up to play with her Lekku.

“Do you know who that is?” Ahni asks, pointing at you. Lately, you’ve all been working to try and get her to start talking. When you visit, and when you call, you make sure to tell her that you are ‘moma’ or ‘mommy’, and she’s been closer and closer to forming actual words each time.

“Mmlurble,” she sputters out, and you giggle some more.

“Almost there,” you say, “want to try again?” She nods, and you grin back at her.

“M-” her face scrunches as she concentrates, but is interrupted when Tayah runs into the room.

“Auntie y/n!” she says, out of breath, and you assume she had run to see you. “Auntie y/n, guess what?!”

“Porg butt?” you ask, earning a brief scowl from her as everyone else giggles. Except Cyar’ika, who is still focused on trying to say ‘moma’.

“I’ve been growing a garden! Like, with the force! It’s working!”

“That’s amazing!” you reply, proud of how far she’s come with her skills, despite not being in the Jedi Order. “I can’t wait to come visit and see it!”

“When are you coming back?” she asks, and you purse your lips.

“I think I can try and make it before the end of the week,” you reply, trying to think of your schedule, which is always changing.

“What about today?”

“I need to rest up a bit more,” you sigh, “I had an…interesting time with the Bad Batch on my last mission.” Tayah nods before her eyes go wide as Cyar’ika catches her attention.

“She’s speaking!” she squeaks, taking her from Ahni’s arms.

“Mo-...mooooo-...mommmmm-...Moma!!” she says, her face immediately unscrunching and turning to joy. “Moma! Moma moma moma!” Everyone cheers, and you clap your hands as you beam at her. A distant part of you wishes you could have been there to see her in person, but in the end, you’re just simply glad that you got to hear it.

“Oh, Cyar’ika!” you say, “moma is so proud of you!”

“Moma moma!!” You giggle at her joy, and look on lovingly as Tayah gently dances with her in celebration. Kwol and Ahni share a smile and you suddenly feel a pang of guilt. While you’re in here, watching your daughter speak her first words, Crosshair is out in your kitchen, completely oblivious to the fact that he even has a child. A part of you wants to call him in here right now, to let him witness this with you, but you know you can’t. There’s no way you could just grab him, tell him he has a child, then shove his face into a holo of her saying her first words. He wouldn’t understand. He wouldn’t share your joy.

“Y/n?” Kwol asks, noticing how you’ve gone distant and have a guilty expression.

“Huh? Oh, sorry…” you say, shaking your head, trying to steady your breathing. You feel like you’re about to cry. “I just…” you look down, squeezing your eyes shut. “Crosshair is here. In the kitchen. He still…he doesn’t…and this…I just…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” Kwol says, trying to comfort you. “It’ll all be okay. He’ll understand when the time is right, I promise.”

“How can you be so sure? How can you make that kind of promise when you barely even know him?” you sniff briefly, wiping away the tears that had managed to escape. Kwol remains quiet, and you don’t see when he looks to Ahni for help.

“He’ll understand,” she starts gently, “maybe not at first, but in time. He’ll see the amazing family that he has, and the secrets won’t matter. He loves you more than I’ve ever seen anyone else love someone, except perhaps Kwol,” she says, giving him a brief smile before looking back at you, “I know it’ll be okay. I don’t lie, do I?”

“No,” you sigh, shaking your head and wiping more tears. “I should go, though.” They nod, and you say your goodbyes, getting another ‘moma!’ from Cyar’ika as she waves her little hand at you. You wave back before ending the call, sitting quietly for a minute before crawling out of bed and heading to see what Crosshair is making.

“It’s not…anywhere close to perfect,” he sighs as he hears you walk out, his back facing you. “Honestly, it’ll be a miracle if it’s even edible.” He sighs again, setting the spoon down before turning and finding you standing there, staring at the floor with tears on your cheeks. “Cyar’ika?” he says, immediately getting worried and stepping towards you. You just shake your head, more tears falling.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, and he takes you into his arms.

“It’s okay. I understand you want to protect me.”

You shake your head, swallowing hard to fight back a sob. “No…it’s…not fair. You…you deserve better…you deserve to know…”

“I can wait,” he says, holding you tighter, “when it’s time. Don’t feel guilty about it, please.”

“If…if you knew,” you say, shaking your head, “if you knew…you’d understand…I have every right to feel guilty.” He pulls away slightly, more concern running through his mind. “I didn’t cheat,” you say immediately, “I didn’t…it’s just something that you should know…it’s…important. A big thing. Something that…you should have been a part of.”

“I don’t understand,” he replies, wiping tears from your cheek, “but you’re worrying yourself too much. You know the reasons why you kept it from me. You know your logic. And I trust that logic. I trust you. I trust that you didn’t tell me for a good reason, and that you will tell me when the time is right.”

You shake your head, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath. “I don’t deserve you…”

“No,” he chuckles, pressing his forehead to yours. “I don’t deserve you.” You let out a breath and tilt your head so that your lips meet, and your hands go up to wrap around his neck. You kiss him desperately and guiltily, not feeling as though you deserve this, but knowing that there is nothing else that you want right now.

All too soon he pulls away, glancing back at the stove. “I should check on that before I ruin it more than I already have,” he sighs, and you giggle.

“I’m sure it’s not nearly as bad as you think.”

“I’m a terrible cook and you know it,” he counters, shooting you a playful glare.

“You’re not terrible,” you say, “you just need to keep working on your chef skills. Nobody is born a perfect cook. No one is born a good cook.”

“Yes, but some people are born a terrible cook,” he replies, “and I wasn’t even born.” You snort at that, and he chuckles at his own joke. “Come here, why don’t you try a little?” You nod and quietly walk over, letting him blow on a spoonful to cool it down before offering it to you. You take it confidently, tasting it briefly before quickly swallowing it down, immediately looking for water to quench the overwhelming salt taste.

“Needs…a bit more flavor…” you say, “and less salt. A lot less salt.” He sighs, setting the spoon back down and looking at you. “I can’t remove salt…but maybe you can show me what to put in to make the flavor better?” You smile and nod, opening a few cabinets and pulling down some seasonings and ingredients. You look through them, thinking of what would make this taste better. Crosshair hovers over your shoulder, his hands slipping around your waist to watch as you choose the ingredients.

“There,” you say, and he presses a kiss to your cheek before stepping back and letting you add them. After a few minutes, and a bunch of stirring, you take a spoonful, blow on it to cool it like Crosshair had, and offer it to him. He takes the mouthful and his eyes brighten, clearly loving the taste.

“You are the most amazing person to have ever lived,” he says, taking the spoon from you and eating more.

“Yeah, well, don’t eat it all before it’s done,” you say, shooting him a playful glare. He just rolls his eyes and steps back, placing a toothpick in his mouth. You turn to finish up the meal, adding the last few ingredients before filling two bowls. You set them on the table, and before you can even sit, Crosshair is already digging in. “You’re eating as though you’ve been starving,” you giggle.

“Living on ration bars and that terrible mess hall food makes you crave real, good food,” he replies, though he does slow down. You just giggle again and enjoy your meal, happy to have gotten to spend some quality time with him, and not be in immediate danger while doing so.

As you eat, your mind goes back to the holo call and how you had felt. You feel your appetite slip away, but continue to eat, knowing that he would notice if you suddenly stopped and claimed to not be hungry. You also need to replenish your strength and energy, and skipping meals wouldn’t do you any good. You wish you knew how to tell him about Cyar’ika, and what his reaction would be.

If you enjoyed this, comments, reblogs, and messages are greatly appreciated!

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idontgetanysleep · 9 months

Text

thanks for the tag @wolffegirlsunite ! <3

1. ride or die ship (your otp): padme x anakin (ik he is toxic as fuck brother!!), or codywan because cute

2. most annoying ship: ahsoka x rex or anakin x rex, i just don’t see them as anything other than like siblings so it freaks me out, also i just can’t see anakin with anyone other than padme because that boy is OBSESSED (sorry if you like these ships they just aren’t my thing)

3. second favourite ship: tech x phee, i’m not even a tech girly but i just absolutely adore their dynamic

4. favourite platonic relationship: AHSOKA AND REX, i love their sibling like relationship sm, a close second is cody and rex they are the besties of the GAR and i love it, also omega and wrecker bc they are adorable

5. underrated ship: obi x satine, bly x aayla

6. overrated ship: reylo

7. one thing i would change in canon: cody being in the kenobi series 😐 (like he was fucking suppose to be!)

8. something canon did right: the entirety of the clone wars, but specifically showing how mistreated clones are and not just brushing it off as “they love war! they were made for it!😃” like how it is in the prequels, i love how the clone wars shows the process of the clones realizing they are more than what they were programmed to do, the whole shifting from clone troopers to storm troopers in tbb is something i also think canon did right because it is so important in the history of the empire, and i love how they are showing a bit of how the clone troopers are helping each other after all these years of just helping their superiors (they are finally fighting for each other!)

9. a thing i'm proud of creating for the fandom PLEASE BRAG ABOUT YOURSELF I WANT TO SEE/READ YOUR ART: my wallpapers! specifically the cowboy mando set i just uploaded :) i’m really proud of how they came out

10. a character who is perfect to me (wouldn't change a thing): rex, cody, jesse, kix, fives, echo, wolffe, hunter, howzer, gregor, mayday, etc…(LITERALLY ANY CLONE, IM NOT KIDDING) but also ahsoka, din djarrin, and chuchi too

11. the character i relate to the most and why: ahsoka probably, just growing up a certain way and realizing it isn’t right and leaving it behind you\having almost no one from that past family listen (that was kinda deep, my b)

12. character(-s) i hate the most and why: palpatine, tarkin, that mf that didn’t help mayday, PONG KRELL! i feel like the reasons are obvious

13. something i've learned from the fandom: it’s okay to be entirely invested in star wars! i get a lot of shit for being a die hard star wars fan but then i come on here and feel safe about it :)

14. three tags i seek out on ao3: i don’t have ao3 💔 i read all my fics on here because i love you writers <3

15. a song i strongly associate with my op/favourite character:

favorite character: rex

song: epiphany - taylor swift

no pressure tags! @starrylothcat @arctrooper69 @techorgana @blueink-bluesoul @cloneloverrrrr @dukeoftheblackstar @sunkissedclones @freesia-writes

if you have already participated ignore the tag!

if you want to join in and aren’t tagged pls do! and tag me!

#tag post #h interacts #h likes to share music

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skyvaikers · 2 years

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in a bottle [ captain rex ]

SUMMARY — you notice rex is more reserved than normal after a mission on umbara. you try to comfort him after you find out what happened, but your efforts are to no avail. until you confront him.

WARNINGS — gn!jedi!reader, angst, fluff, umbaran arc, mentions of trauma and PTSD, fluff

REQUESTED BY — @starlit-epiphany

———

UMBARA WAS HELL. as much of an understatement it was, there was no other way to describe it. every man who walked off umbara alive felt the same way; like they were traitors. the sorry excuse for a jedi pong krell tricked them into killing each other, their brothers. they should have been able to see it coming, he should have seen it coming, but no one did.

as much as rex felt afterward, he didn’t have the time to process it. at least that’s what he’s always believed. he didn’t know how to process emotions in general, but after something like umbara, he just refused to acknowledge it. he would have gotten away with it too, but he’s got a jedi for a significant other.

you noticed the second he stepped off the transport something wasn’t right. you were stood next to anakin skywalker, who heard about what happened after the fact. he wished he wasn’t called away, he wanted to go back and tell the council no, but he knew he couldn’t. he was filled with anger towards pong krell, and honestly? he was glad dogma shot him, even after blindly following orders.

you knew generally what happened. you just wanted to comfort rex as much as you could, but you knew it would be a struggle for him to open up. you normally didn’t force him to, but you knew that after something like this, you might have to.

“i’m gonna go and talk to him,” it wasn’t a request, it was a statement. anakin looked over at you and nodded, not saying a word. he knew how close the two of you were, but he didn’t warn against attachments. he had one with his wife; it would be hypocritical of him to tell you to not hold such an attachment.

you caught up with rex, who appeared to be standing strong. he had to. for his brothers.

“captain,” your voice interrupted the mangled thoughts in rex’s head, and for that he was grateful. he turned to face you, but he didn’t dare remove his helmet. he feared you’d see the tear stains on his cheeks.

“general. is there something i can do for you?” he hated how he had to be so formal. rex has never experienced love like this, so when you showed him what it looked like, it was like a drug.

“i wanted to speak with you, in private,” you flicked your eyes to the door of the barracks.

“of course, general,” he knew you were going to ask about umbara, but he couldn’t tell you. he couldn’t tell you without images of his dead brothers flashing before his eyes, dead because of him.

you led him outside of the barracks where the foot traffic seemed to have died down.

“rex, talk to me,” your voice was soft, almost desperate.

“i’m fine,”

“rex-”

“i’m alright, general,” he nodded his head and he excused himself. it was so out of character for him, but you knew that it was a lot to process, so, you let it go and gave him time.

- 1 week later -

it had been a week since the mission on umbara. rex and the 501st had been on missions since then, considering that the war continued whether or not they were in a good headspace.

rex knew he needed to talk to you, but he just couldn’t. the emotions he felt had been bottled up and sealed so tightly that not even he could open it. if he did, it would explode all over the place, leaving others, like you, to deal with the carnage. so, he kept to avoidance.

you didn’t like being avoided. you knew he needed time, but that didn’t mean not speaking to you. you wanted him to at least speak to you. you tried not to be upset, and for the most part, you weren’t. you were just upset he was processing through something he’s never been taught to process, though no one ever was.

at some point, you’d had enough. you found him in the barracks, about to walk in.

“captain,” you called. you didn’t mean for your voice to come off as strong or intimidating, but you just wanted him to talk to you.

“general, i uh, didn’t see you there,” he stuttered as he rubbed the back of his neck. he should have at least told you that he was alright, or something.

“with all due respect, we need to talk.” you hated sounding rude or even relatively mean; that wasn’t who you were. based on the look on rex’s face, he agreed with your statement.

you led him into an empty storage room, and when the doors shut, you turned to face him completely.

“rex, please, i know it’s hard, but just talk to me. i can help you,” you begged. he didn’t say a word, but his mind was screaming at him to tell you. it would make him feel so much better.

he slowly removed his helmet, revealing the dark bags underneath his eyes, his bloodshot eyes, and how his face was sunken. he hated presenting himself like this, weak, but he knew that you only cared about him. him avoiding you all week didn’t help with your anxiety.

you looked upon his face, how it’s lost it’s usual brightness. you slowly approach him, cupping his cheek with your hand. he dares to meet your eyes, emotions swimming behind his beautiful, brown eyes.

“oh, my love,” you whispered, feeling the pain that writhed inside the captain’s chest. at your words, rex broke.

you’ve never seen him break. you’ve seen him almost break, but he managed to shove it inside that bottle of his. as you held him in your arms, painful sobs shaking his body and his tears soaking your clothes, you couldn’t help but cry with him. you held him there, a hand on his back and another cradling the back of his head.

after a few moments, rex sat up, tears streaming down his raw cheeks.

“it’s my fault,” he choked out. you shook your head at him, your hand moving to cup his cheek.

“i should have been able to see it coming. fives said he didn’t trust him to begin with, and i should have listened to him. for that, he almost died,” he confessed, trying to keep himself from breaking again.

“none of this is your fault,” you assured him. he wished he could believe you.

“my brothers died, y/n, they were killed by their own brothers because we were so stupid to put-”

“stop, stop it,” you held his face with both of your hands, shaking your head. “you are not stupid, and neither are your men. krell took advantage of your loyalty, and that was on him. it was never on you.” you wished you had better words to say, but this was a situation that no one saw coming.

“they shouldn’t have died, y/n,” he whispered. he sounded like a small child, but he didn’t care.

“i know,” you nodded. you pulled him closer and he squeezed you. he trusted you with his life.

a moment of silence was shared between the two of you, just taking a moment to breathe and recollect thoughts.

“i’m sorry for avoiding you. i’ve never…spoken about my emotions before,” he confessed into your hair.

“it’s ok, i’m glad you told me. i’m sorry if i sounded annoyed,” you spoke gently into his chest. a chuckle escaped his lips, feeling the vibration of it in his chest.

“i would have been too,” he told you. rex still didn’t know what processing emotions entailed, but he did know that it involved you, the love of his life.

you both stood there, soaking in each other’s warmth and love. you could stand there all day, and you might just, but you knew at some point you’d get hungry. for now, you held him, comforting him from the horrors he had seen just a week prior. he’d get through it, even though it would be rough, but he’d be ok as long as you were by his side.

———

what a long one, phew! ok but this turned out amazing and i’m rlly happy with it! i hope you enjoyed @starlit-epiphany ! i rlly enjoyed writing this and hope it met your request! requests are open so feel free to request! maybe i’ll put up a prompt list or something lol. stay safe and stay healthy my loves!

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars imagines #star wars imagine #the clone wars #the clone wars imagine #captain rex imagines #captain rex imagine #captain rex #captain rex x reader

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sparrowsabre7 · 8 months

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Dark side saber habits

So a mutual just asked me "why is it more commonly Dark side force users that dual wield lightsabers?" and there were a lot of things that I wanted to talk about around that point, so I figured I'd make it a post.

There is no categorical reason, but I'll pull ideas from both canon and Legends into my interpretation. The first and most logical reason why Dark siders tend to be the ones who favour dual wielding or double-sided sabers is that they are far more likely to need to battle multiple opponents. Sith, in particular, are limited by the rule of two, so are much more likely to be a single fighter against multiple Jedi. Not least because jedi, especially in the days of the Old Republic, would travel in pairs.

However, the more evocative reason pulls from both the Jedi Path and, I think, issue 100 of the Marvel Star Wars comics (Disney era) where one of the anthology stories had Obi-wan explaining why Jedi use lightsabers: Double-sided sabers and dual wielding sabers poses an increased risk to the user, in some cases greater than any tactical advantage it might offer. Sith and dark side users thrive on passion and intense emotions to battle and thus it would make some sense they would use a riskier, yet potentially more powerful, weapon in battle. In addition, it serves as the counter to Obi-wan's explanation as to why Jedi use lightsabers. Lightsabers are dangerous, even volatile weapons in the wrong hands. They could do so much damage and yet in the hands of jedi they don't. They are a weapon indicating the jedi's restraint. You cannot easily cut down a roomful of people indiscriminately from afar with a lightsaber. They are intimate, up close weapons and their use demonstrates a clarity of intent. He posits that the Sith use them because they believe anything the Jedi can do, they believe they can do better. By this argument it therefore follows that Dark force users would both see the use of dual sabers or double-sided sabers as a "one-up" on the Jedi, while also demonstrating a clear predilection for chaos and a lack of that aforementioned restraint. A revel in the excesses. In this way Grievous' use of four represents the ultimate perversion of this restraint.

Most jedi we've seen in canon (in live action anyway) only dual wield in extreme circumstances (Anakin vs Dooku, Kelleran Beq vs clones) and didn't carry two sabers by design, instead were handed a second in combat. (Yss there are extras in ep2 dual wielding but that's stil a rarity). In also fits in with Pong Krell, the Jedi who betrays the Clones in "The Clone Wars" dual wields double-sided sabers. As a maverick jedi, he is outside the normal and his use of this unconventional load out confirms his more aggressive and un-jedi like nature.

Ultimately there are jedi who wield this formation, but certainly it seems more common for those on the dark side and this is just my reasoning as to why that may be the case.

#star wars #lightsabers #jedi #sith #dark side #thoughts

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redheadjustin · 2 years

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STAR WARS: SAVING THE CHOSEN ONE chapter 2

Kamino 3rd POV

The ocean world of Kamino was home to the biggest cloning facilities in the known galaxy. They made clones for any occasion and didn’t seem to care about the ethics of cloning. Which is why when a Jedi named Sifo Dyas came to Kamino and commissioned a Clone army with Jango Fett as the source DNA the Kaminan Government jumped at the chance. Thus the grand army of the republic was born. Many batches were created, they were given accelerated growth and trained at three standard years old but they look six.

Of course, no one knew that this was a plot by the Sith to take the Jedi down. They also didn’t know about the chips placed in every single clone to make them obedient and instilled the mantra ‘good soldiers follow orders’ in them from the time they were born. Then of course the Clone Wars broke out. With the revelation of the clones and the fact the Jedi would be their generals the Jedi council sent Councilmember Shaak Ti to oversee the clones’ training. She viewed each clone as her child. But, even with the amount of clones already produced, hundreds died by the day. It was the second Year of the Clone Wars and things were not going well for the republic when the Kaminans came up with an idea, make a batch of clones with animal DNA. These clone troopers would be known as CATS or clone animal troopers. By the time The Jedi were told the batch was already to be born.

They started with a batch of ten each with the DNA of an apex predator. Pads had the DNA of the tiger, Claw had the wolf, scale had the snake, fang had the bear, horn had the bull, spike had the Rhino, wing had the falcon, griph had the griffin, flame had the phoenix, finn had the shark and finally was Gator. Gator was the youngest of the batch and had the DNA of an alligator. Gator was born as CT: CAT 111802.

The batch was known as the zoo. Growing up, the members of the batch were made fun of for being different. None more so than Gator. He had black hair, yes, but he had green raptealin eyes, scales covering both sides of his face as well as his back, shoulders, legs, forearms and legs. Gator also had very sharp teeth and was a very excellent swimmer. Gator was close to Padds, Claw and Fang. they were brothers but that doesn't mean much. You see, these clones didn’t have the chip to help with obedience as it was feared it would interfere with the animal instincts.

Due to this many of the experiments were considered failures. And were decommissioned, and their batch mates were used to doing it. Gator almost had the same fate. Gator was abused and miss treated. That’s how he got most of his scars. Gator was probably the only clone with autism and coupled with his Alligator DNA Gator had issues with obedience. Gator would have been decommissioned had it not been for Pads. Pads, Claw and Fang all protected the youngest member. Thus saving Gator from termination. They couldn’t save him from the mental trauma of helping to kill Scale, Horn, Spike, Wing, Griph, Flame and Finn. Every Time this happened you could find Padds rocking Gator to sleep as Gator cried.

Time moved on and Pads was assigned to the 212th, Claw joined the 104th or the wolfpack, Fang was assigned to the 14th battalion as a protector for one young Cal Kesties. Gator’s Assignment was harder. You see, when It came to the CATS the Jedi generals had to request one. So, Pads was requested by Obi-Wan Kenobi, Claw by Plo Koon, Fang by Jaro Tapal. But, no one really wanted Gator. He had a chip on his shoulder and walls to keep himself from being hurt. But, Captain Rex, who Had always been kind to Gator, made an appeal to Anakin Skywalker. And thus Gator joined the 501st.

Then the Umbara campaign. Poor Gator was abused even more in the course of the one week Pong Krell was in command. Gator was disheartened by his temporary CO’s curlenees towards him. More scars were added to Gator’s tan skin, Chunks of Gator’s green hair were missing, A few of Gator’s teeth were missing and Gator now had a deathly fear of lightsabers due to the fresh burn/ scar on his back. Gator was reduced to tears in his armor, which had a bite mark and gash pattern, on more than one occasion. So, no, Gator didn’t think Dogma should be on trial and had agreed to be a witness for Dogma the second Rex asked him to. What Gator didn’t know was that He’d met a kindred spirit.

Justin POV

I’ve listened to my Master argue with Obi-Wan for four hours now!! And it was all because of Dogma’s trial. The one that would be priveite as the public couldn’t find out about the fact a clone committed mutiny. So, Dogma wouldn’t get a trial of his peers but a trial in the senate. I pointed out that to do that would violate Dogma’s constitutional right but Obi-Wan adopted a sad and found tone as he said “Normally Padawan you’d be correct but clone rights have yet to be adjudicated and thus we’re flying in the dark here.” My master wanted me to testify on Dogma’s behalf as I was also abused. Obi-Wan hated the idea. He believed that while the Jedi could stand behind Dogma all they could offer was silent support. They’d been going back and forth forever when I spoke up.

“Master Kenobi, Will Dogma be killed If he’s found guilty?” I asked knowing full well he would be and judging by the look on Obi-Wan’s face I was correct. “And from what I’ve gathered during the four hour argument you and my master have been having, I shouldn’t testify because it would damage the Jedi order’s standing in the senate?” I kept pushing as I knew that Obi-Wan would see my point eventually. “The Council has already told the senate that no one knew of Krell’s fall to the darkside. Dogma Experienced a form of abuse but not the kind I did. But, some clones were physically abused as I was. Me telling my story, as reluctant I am” I said with a pointed look to my Master. “Would go to show that eventually anyone would snap and that Dogma was acting in self defense.” I finished looking Obi-Wan in the eye so he could see that what I was doing was right. When the sigh of defeat left my grandmasters lips I knew I won and for some reason I knew that he force was up to something.

Two days later I was in the speeder with my master as we headed to the senate complex for my testimony. It was early in the morning as the chancellor wanted this over with as fast as possible. I would be meeting with senator Organa, Dogma and senator Amidala to discuss my Testimony. Apparently my master had a…connection with senator Amidala judging by the grin on his face. And it seemed senator Amidala, Or as my master insists on me calling her Padme, was going to be the one to question me. I didn’t know why but If my master trusted her then I did too.

“…You were very vague on how the trial was going master.” I spoke up while not taking my eyes off the busy city planet. I could almost hear My master’s prosthetic hand crush the steering wheel. “It’s absurd! Tarkin and Burtoni are completely disregarding the fact that Krell committed treason! Well, Burtoni is. Tarken admitted that what Dogma did probably saved the republic. But, he keeps insisting that Krell should have been tried. Yeah, Like he’s qualified to try a Jedi after Ahsoka.” I wasn’t shocked at the bitterness in my master’s voice. He had made it clear that he was still pissed. I agreed with him. It was despicable what Dogma was being made to go through.

I walked into the room where my meeting was to be held alone. Obi-Wan wanted a word with my master and I told him I’d be fine. As I walked I could hear hushed voices. One belongs to senator Organa, which I remember from the holo news. The other Belonging to a beautiful woman that was obviously from Naboo and thus Padmae. “Senators, I’m Master Skywalker’s Padawan learner, Justin Bush.” I remembered the formal greeting that had been drilled into my head as a youngling. It was just my first time using it.

“Ah, Padawan Bush It’s nice to meet you. And I must thank you for helping my client out.” Senator Organa said to me and I could tell he meant it. “Dogma’s Life may depend on yours and Gator’s testimony.” I assumed Gator was another clone. “I’m glad to help the senator. What Krell did was wrong. Dogma shouldn’t be on trial for defending himself and his brothers.” I said as I took the seat across from Dogma. I could see Padme look at me with admiration and I sent a smile at the woman. Dogma looked at me with a look of appreciation on his face. “Thank you, commander.” Dogma’s voice cracking broke my heart. “Dogma, look at me. You have nothing to thank me for. You were hurt by Krell like I was, Like Your brothers. I will do everything in my power to make sure that you won’t be killed for ridding the Galaxy of that monster.” I spoke with a conviction that scared me. I didn’t notice Padme sharing a look with senator Organa.

After the Meeting I was led to the Whitnees holding room. I thanked the Trooper who escorted me as I stepped in. There was only one other witness in the room; it was another Clone but his force presence seemed more…animalistic. His armor was painted blue-green with a claw and bite mark motith. His visor had teeth around it and on his left shoulder was painted an alligator. The Trooper lifted his head as I took a seat next to him. He seemed angry, depressed and….hurt. “What’s your name?” I asked as I saw him stiffen. “…I’m CAT- 111802.” I sighed. It was the same as when I met the other members of the 501st. “I said you name trooper.” I said with caring and patience in my voice. I could sense that this clone distrusted Jedi and people in general. “I’m clone animal trooper Gator, Sir.” I knew he was expecting hate as he took his helmet off revealing a scared face with green scales and Green hair.

I Sent a smile at him a gentle smile. “I’m Jedi Padawan learner Justin Bush. It’s very nice to meet you, Gator.” Gator looked younger than the others, at least seventeen and maybe eighteen. “If I may ask Commander, what are you doing here? Do the Jedi and Burtoni really trust me that little that I need to be babysat by a kid?” The distrust and bitterness stunned me. I knew not every clone was treated equally but the resentment Gator had for the Jedi and the kmainain senator was astounding. “Gator, I assure you that I'm not here to babysit you. I’m here to testify for Dogma. I was hurt by Krell as well.” The second the last sentence came out of my mouth he looked at me with his green reptilian eyes with an understanding and sadness that I’ve only seen in the Younglings brought to the temple after losing their parents. The look in Gator’s eyes is one of a child who’s lost and needs love. “Y-Y-you were? He hurt a youngling?” I don’t blame the disbelief in his voice. It was well known that the younglings were important in the Jedi order.

“He was my Master.” I said with a sad smile. I could tell the understanding that came with the admission endeared me to him and got him to open up. Gator told me about him and his upbringing. The abuse, the loneliness, killing his brothers, Padds looking out for him. All of it and I knew that If I got the chance I’d make him my personal clone. As we talked I noticed the signs of autism. I didn’t mention it as I knew and autisic clone would be designated as deficient and I wouldn’t do that to him. I knew how hard It was to be the only person with autism in a group that was mostly neurotypical. I loved talking with Gator and I felt a connection with the clone. I looked at the door the second it opened. The smile on Rex’s face seemed out of character for someone who was so serious. “I see you met General Skywalker’s new padawan. It’s time Gator.`` The tone In Rex’s voice made my stomach drop. Gator walked out of the room after putting his helmet on. Just as Rex was going to follow Gator I called out to him. “Rex? Take care of him please.” I felt Rex’s eyes meet mine. “You got it kid.” And with that I was alone.

It was about an hour later that Rex burst into the room. “Kid, Gator’s having a panic attack and he’s asking for you.” I was out the door before the captain could finish. I don’t know why but I felt a connection and a protectiveness over him that I knew that If I wasn’t careful could be seen as an attachment. I ran into the courtroom to see Gator in the gallery in a fetal position with my master, Obi-Wan and Cody around him. I made a mad dash for him. “What happened?” I asked as I slid to my knees. “He admitted that he was defective and thus is going to be decommissioned.” Burtoni said and I felt an anger rise in me that I hoped no one but my master could sense.

“Senator Burtoni, Please. You're making it worse. We will discuss this later.” I could hear Obi-Wan say as I gently tilted Gator’s head so he was looking into my eyes. “Gator, look at me please. I know what Burtoni said but we won’t let that happen. I promise. I won’t let that happen.” I made sure no one but my master and Gator heard. I felt a connection to Gator and I’m sure that Gator felt it too as he seemed to listen to me. I felt a moment of panic. Gator HAD to be my dyad. But, that would be impossible. Both people had to be force sensitive. Unless, Gator was force sensitive. One problem at a time.

“Gator, I need to testify. Can you stay with my master and then I’ll join you?” I asked softly as I wanted to clear Dogma but I needed to be there for Gator. I smiled at his nod and I stood to head to the witness stand. After I was sworn in I saw Padme stand up and walk to the platform that would be used to examine the witness. The questions were easy coming from Padme as I saw Gator led out of the courtroom with Burnitoni following. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It went on and on. Every scar, cut, bruise and word was talked about in detail. It was the last question that Padme asked that I was waiting for. “One last question, Padawan Bush. Do you believe that Dogma was justified in executing Master Krell?” I took a breath as I prepared to answer and I avoided the eyes of the council.

“Yes I do. What Dogma went through was worse than what I did. With me, Krell isolated me from the rest of the order. He put me through hell and a lot of my scars will never leave my body. But what Krell did to the 501st and the 212th was worse. He forced them into battles with no backup. He also forced Clones to kill their brothers. So, Dogma was justified in killing krell. If you ask me, Dogma did the republic and the galaxy a service.” I could feel the sad looks from Yoda and Obi-Wan as I stepped down and I followed Gator’s force signature. Just as I was about to enter the conference room I saw Senator Burtoni storm out.

“Good news Justin. I’ve managed to get Gator saved and reassigned as your personal clone.” My master said as I walked into the room. The smile on my face was huge as my master sent me a knowing look. I could see Gator wanted to hug me for saving him. I Knelt down in front of the green eyed clone. “Don’t worry Gator. You deserve to live. You Deserve love. And I’ll help you with that.” I couldn’t see Rex informing my master of something that would change my life. Then my master cleared his throat. “I actually have a mission for you two. We’ve lost contact with Jaro Tapal. And his Padawan along with Fang. You’ll be sent to find them.” Damnit. Not my little brother

I could feel the Panic from Gator as we walked to our escort ship. “Don’t worry, Ones. We’ll find them. I promise.” I Could feel the grateful smile from Gator from behind his helmet as we entered the cockpit. As we left the orbit of Coruscant I reached out to my bond with Cal. Hold on Cal. We’re coming. Just hang in there little brother.

#x male self insert #male self insert #anakin skywalker x male self insert #star wars the clone wars #star wars x male self insert #clone oc #clone troopers

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imaybelactoseintolerant · 6 months

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Commander Luthal

Chapter Eleven: Strife

Word Count: 6665

TW: Krell is in like one paragraph. Doesn't get any lines, but just writing his name gives me ptsd.

Masterlist

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Arwen’s time in the Halls of Healing was nothing short of disastrous, and she had only lasted an hour.

Master Nu’lok had examined her and found her use of the Force to be more than adept, and her mind well attuned to it. She could work under pressure and stay calm, she could focus near single mindedly when she had a mind for it (Master Nu’lok was certain that her dedication towards combat could be redirected), and she could feel out other peoples Force signatures decently quickly. Her Echani born gift for reading body language was also a great help, and Master Nu’lok said it would be especially useful for identifying injuries faster when used with the Force, with no small amount of practise.

Her first and only practice patient had a three inch long slice on his forearm. It wasn’t bleeding much, nor was it deep or messy when she had first approached him on the medical bed with Master Nu’lok, but it was when she left.

The only time she was ever allowed to administer assistance in healing was with bandages and stims, never with the Force, lest she rip someone’s body apart in an attempt to heal a damn splinter puncture.

Whyever it was, Arwen did not have an aptitude for Force healing—she had the opposite of that, where her mind for some reason couldn’t comprehend the difference between putting back together and taking apart.

Within the next three days, Master Du had taken her off-world for her first mission, and Arwen was grateful for something to take her mind off what had happened. It was a basic, safe mission that had gone completely according to plan, and even though Arwen was secretly hoping for things to go just a little off the rails, she enjoyed her first time leaving Coruscant since she’d joined the Jedi Order.

Missions became more frequent after that, and Master Du quickly showed her the ropes—from interacting with high-profile public figures, to slinking through a planet's deadly underbelly. Master Du was thorough but cautious, quick to tell Arwen when she needed to reign herself in and giving her the necessary criticisms to keep Arwen in check and always improving and learning. Thus far, she’d not really had a chance to exercise her lightsaber skills, though there had been a few close calls over the next few months—all ending after only a few seconds, their opponents blasters never even firing, and Arwen’s lightsabers not even swinging.

The long stretches spent in hyperspace were usually spent studying, the ships they flew being too small to practise with her sabers, or piloting the ship herself. It made her grateful for the red bead in her braid.

The first few missions threw Arwen’s body clock and schedule completely off, and she felt a much stronger wave of sympathy for Anakin, who was almost always off-planet with Master Kenobi and still managed to keep up with his studies. It took seven missions before she adjusted to the changes, and after that she found she enjoyed the lack of rigidity. The long stretches of time in hyperspace and on different planets with different sun rotations made keeping any kind of set schedule near impossible anyway.

She saw Anakin less and less now that she and Master Du left the temple, and though she missed having someone relatively close to her skill level to spar with, she was managing just fine. Learning Soresu, Ataru, and applying Jar’Kai techniques that weren’t even taught was a lot of work to manage, and it kept her mind sharp. Her skills grew more and more each day, though she had yet to exercise them outside of spars and training.

She and Master Du had more recently been sent on relief missions, primarily for natural disasters and disease outbreaks, and Arwen became a capable coordinator for triage and medical, though her own skills in healing were of course limited to minor injuries—at most, if impromptu medical centres were pressed for staff and time, she was permitted to administer vaccinations and check vitals, and rudimentary wound cleaning. Still, she took great care and pride in what she could do, even if it was only bandaging small wounds, administering vaccinations or medical stims, or getting patients water.

The Force was a useful tool to have when looking for survivors as well; after a particularly nasty earthquake, a great deal of rudimentary technology on colony planets often didn’t work, or the heavy rubble was too thick for the scanners to penetrate; being able to sense life, though somewhat difficult for Arwen when there were so many people around, and using the Force to lift heavy debris spared the hapless people underneath from needing to wait for heavy, slow machinery to arrive, had saved countless lives.

For their efforts in providing relief and aid to those in need, Ur-Sema Du was made a Jedi Master. It suited her, and Arwen’s master took to the role flawlessly. Maybe one day Master Du would sit on the Council, alongside Masters Yoda, Windu and Plo. She certainly had the temperament and disposition for it.

The missions were hardly the adventure that Anakin had assured her it would be, but Arwen was happy nonetheless.

All too soon Arwen was sixteen, and finally finishing her last year of temple mandated studies. She completed her examinations for her regular classes with little fanfare, and just slightly above average marks, though she’d barely scraped by in politics. There were no examinations for either of her lightsaber combat classes, but rather the attending Jedi’s declaration of their participation and improvement over the years, and it was much the same for lessons in the Force and meditation. Piloting class had a final practical and written exam, but because she’d been flying with Master Du so many times she found it quite easy to get through, and judging by the relaxed faces and posture of the other padawans taking the exams they clearly felt similarly. She learned after the exams that there hadn’t been a padawan who failed this class in over three decades. Her true challenge came with her independent studies class.

As everyone in the class chose their own subjects to research there could be no standardised exam. Instead, a thesis was required, and Arwen was glad for the forethought she’d put into it, otherwise she wasn’t sure what she would have done.

The original survey was broad, a collection of several dozens of questions requiring both brief and detailed responses. When she had sent out the original surveys, exactly two hundred of them, they had been filled out with the condition that they must be completed again in six years. Unfortunately, she had issues chasing up more than a few Jedi to get them to keep their word. Most of them were simply busy, off-planet and on lengthy missions, but Master Krell didn’t have an excuse. He was in the temple and available, and she’d sent the survey to his datapad for completion. Then she sent a reminder to him. Then another. And another… until finally she had been forced to all but chase him around the temple in search for him, waving a spare datapad in his face when he tried to say he’d misplaced his, and reminding him quite loudly that she needed the information he’d agreed to provide six years ago to complete her thesis when Master Plo had approached.

After that was the long process of making more graphs and charts, drawing conclusions and writing out comprehensive texts based on the gathered information. Finding a way to include all of the information was quite difficult, and she inevitably had to leave quite a bit out in order to properly touch on the differences noted over the course of six years, but what she included was indeed interesting—to her at least.

Arwen received high marks for her final thesis, and Master Du added a red band to the bottom of Arwen’s braid to signify she had completed her studies at the Jedi Temple, and began studying under her Master entirely.

Now that there was nothing forcing Master Du and Arwen back to the Jedi Temple, aside from her master’s duties, the duo spent more time off-planet and on longer missions. Master Du was not a lenient taskmaster when it came to assigning studies, but she was certainly more flexible in schedule than lessons in the temple were.

Arwen’s favourite part of studying under Master Du was the free time—which of course was filled with saber practice. Soresu was her best form, drilled into her almost ruthlessly by Master Du once Arwen had begun growing closer to her master’s skill level. Ataru was far more difficult, but that was part of why she enjoyed it so much. She had no Jedi to teach it to her, as Master Du only knew Soresu, Shii-Cho and Niman in detail, and applying Jar’Kai to it made it ten times more difficult to learn. Despite that, she continued to improve in Form IV, and Master Du offered assistance where she could. Master Du was also quite adept at hand-to-hand, so she was able to continue practising that too.

The increasing divide in the galaxy, which had begun the year prior, saw that a great many of politicians and important figureheads for megacorporations, like the Trade Federation and Banking Clan, were travelling to and from Coruscant and a great deal needed Jedi escorts, or at the least supervisors, to make sure no assassinations or spying were occurring. She and Master Du hadn’t been too involved in those missions, but they had recently begun getting involved by way of offering aid to refugees specifically caused by the political rift. Planets had been seceding by the thousands, with more leaving each day and joining the newly founded Confederacy of Independent Systems. The divide in the Senate was one thing, but the divide amongst the peoples across the galaxy was another entirely.

The man working traffic control, the woman building ships, the child still learning to spell their name, the elderly man looking to retire, the small business owner paying high taxes, the family struggling to make ends meet—these were the people most affected, no matter how much the politicians acted like they were the ones most inconvenienced. Some people decided the Republic wasn’t for them, not now that there was another option, others decided that even though their planet's leaders had declared the Confederacy was the best option, that they would rather return to the Republic. Travel between planets now a part of different governments—if the Confederacy could even be called that—wasn’t as readily available as it used to be. There was too much tension, and the political divide drove people against each other.

And with so many people leaving their planets and looking for a new home at the same time, it was difficult to find space for everyone.

“These refugee camps were meant to be temporary,” Arwen said, looking over the endless sea of tents and hastily built scrap houses, “But they just get bigger every day.”

Master Du hummed, and Arwen didn’t need to look at her master to know she too was upset.

Centax-1 was the primary moon of Coruscant, and more than half of it was covered in skyscrapers. There had been just shy of one million suitable vacant homes and apartments on the moon, enough to house the first two groups of refugees that had come to Coruscant looking for a new home. Arwen and Master Du, as well as several other Jedi and many members of the Service Corps, had been responsible for taking down names and the number of members in the family and finding suitable accommodation, as well as setting up work opportunities. Thankfully, cities always had a surplus of available jobs.

“There’s no more room in the city—and getting them a place on Coruscant requires jumping through so many hoops and takes so long that they’d have better luck flying all the way out to the Mid Rim and to Naboo.”

“Naboo already has a surplus of refugees that they are struggling to house,” Master Du reminded her, “But I feel you are right.”

“And the Senate is too busy bickering about approving a Republic Army and tax rates,” the words tasted like acid in her mouth, “to care that there are millions of people across the galaxy suffering.”

“Yes, there are few good politicians to be found in these trying times—Senator Amidala is certainly one of them,” rarely did Master Du—or most Jedi, in truth—speak of politicians with approval. There were too many corrupt and negligent ones for any reasonable Jedi to trust the Senate to properly resolve any crisis with haste, “If it weren’t for her, I think the Senate would have voted to create an army.”

Arwen, though certainly not an expert on politics, agreed wholeheartedly, “Can you imagine? The whole galaxy would be at war. There hasn’t been a war on that scale in… what, thousands of years? In the times of the Old Republic.”

“Before the Ruusan Reformation. A dark age,” Master Du said, “We have very little information left of those times, nothing more than scattered pieces. Whatever happened in the last galaxy wide war, it destroyed a great deal of history. If we had records, perhaps more could have been done to prevent things like this from happening.”

“The refugee camps, or the secession?”

“Both.”

Arwen bit the inside of her cheek, “Is it really so bad that these planets want to leave the Republic?”

“What do you mean?”

“Plenty of planets have said they don’t want to be in the Republic in the past, haven’t they? I remember reading about that in politics lessons,” she couldn’t recall much from those classes, nothing but the broad strokes from the last few years, but it had been a large talking point at the time, and the current situation made those lectures a bit easier to recall, “Seems like most of the Senate is more concerned with keeping the Republic together, rather than being an effective Republic.”

Master Du hummed again, “I think many would agree with you.”

“The politicians lobby and bribe their way to the top, delay votes that aren’t in their personal interests, and focus on their own personal gain—how much money will this get me? How much power does this give me?—instead of doing what’s right for the people they’re supposed to represent. And it always looks like these politicians belong to planets that hold a lot of influence already; Senator Free Taa is one of them. These planets have power, money, influence, and they’ve been a part of the Republic for a long time. You’d think they would use those resources to assist others.”

“Power corrupts easily, especially in politics, and greed follows closely.”

“So it makes sense that these other planets, the small ones with not enough money or power, or simply with good politicians who refuse to fall to corruption, would want to leave, doesn’t it? They have no voice, no power, and when they try to be heard in the Senate, it takes next to nothing for some other planet or megacorporation, like the Banking Clan—who shouldn’t even be allowed to have a seat in the Senate—to just object or call for it to be dismissed, or rally their backers, or bribe someone else, and then everyone just collectively forgets about it. Of course they want to join the Confederacy. It’s a chance at everything they’ve been denied.”

“It does indeed seem to be in their best interests, and I understand the point you’re making, but think about it this way; the Confederacy of Independent Systems was formed only after Count Dooku denounced the Galactic Senate the Jedi Order. Now, he’s a prominent political figurehead, and the Banking Clan, Trade Federation, Techno Union and Commerce Guild have extreme power and influence over both sides.”

“Why does that matter? Master Dooku was a Jedi, isn’t he a good choice as a leader? He can keep the megacorporations in check, otherwise he wouldn’t have allowed them to join.”

Master Du gave her a measured look, “Do not let your personal feelings cloud your judgement on this matter, Arwen. Count Dooku, while not a bad man, has made some rather bold statements as of late. You would do well to remember that while he was once a Jedi, he is as shrewd and cunning as the best of the Senate. The megacorporations are not entirely necessary to allow into the CIS, and he had no reason to allow them on the Separatist Council if all he sought was the right for other planets to have their voices heard. I’d argue that their mere presence directly argues against that.”

Arwen frowned, “You think there’s a more sinister reason for that? That Master Dooku has a hidden agenda?” She had trouble believing it, but her memories of Master Dooku were brief and spotty at best. She remembered looking up to him, and that he had a commanding presence and was regarded as one of the best duelists in the Jedi Temple, but not much else.

“I don’t think we should discount the possibility,” Master Du said, eyes sweeping over the endless tents once more. Softly, she spoke, “These refugees are just the beginning, I fear. The worst is yet to come.”

Arwen’s frown deepened, thinking of the meagre food that was provided for the refugees, the water rations that were quickly lowering, the small tents and thin blankets, the awful waiting times to find a home and a job, the many moons and planets that housed entire cities worth of displaced people, and the countless others forced to stay in places they no longer felt safe in during political strife, “How could it get worse than this?” She whispered, almost afraid to ask.

“War is brewing.”

Arwen’s head snapped over to Master Du so fast she heard a crack, “War?” She said breathlessly, “I know the Senate is talking about forming an army, but isn’t it just fear mongering, or intimidation tactics? There hasn’t been a Republic Army since before the Ruusan Reformation.”

“I’d like to believe that too, Arwen—that their words are just that; words. But my instincts tell me that dark times lie ahead, and with each planet that secedes, another power grows.”

Something in Arwen’s stomach twisted harshly, and she wasn’t sure if it was anticipation or anxiety. Either way, she desperately tried to quell it, “And what will we do? The Jedi are not soldiers—I’ve been told that a lot growing up—but do we take sides? We are loyal to the Republic, but does that mean that we condemn thousands of planets and their peoples simply because they wish to be heard?” It didn’t seem right to her, “Would we give aid and relief to people who suffer from war only if they are in the Republic?”

Master Du sighed. It was a hopeless sound, filled with dread, “Based on treaties signed for the Ruusan Reformation, it certainly seems like that would be the case.”

Arwen’s gut twisted, this time with dread, “That isn’t right. Jedi are supposed to value life and peace above all other things. How could we claim to be Jedi if we let people suffer? How could we—” Master Du’s hand landed on her shoulder and Arwen stopped talking. Without needing instruction, she drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“This is all just hypothetical, Arwen. My instincts could be wrong—and I hope they are—but it will do neither of us any good to linger on these thoughts and let fear fester. All we can do is offer the help we can give right now.”

With a shuddering exhale, Arwen nodded.

A great deal of time was spent on Centax-1, though they rotated with other Jedi from the temple every few weeks. She was seventeen when they were relieved of duty on Coruscant’s first moon, as were the other Jedi that had been rotating with them, and a new Jedi team took over. All that meant was that Master Du and Arwen, perhaps some of the most experienced in offering relief and aid for those in need, were now available to go to some of the more difficult, disorganised and overpopulated refugee camps.

An outbreak of disease had caused a fair bit of alarm amongst the camp they arrived at in the Mid Rim, but they had it under control in a few weeks, with a surplus of medial droids and Jedi Healers available to help.

There had been a battle on Antar 4, and that sentence alone was enough to make Arwen’s heart race—secessions caused a great deal of political uproar and civilian displacement, but there had been little in the way of violence thus far, and certainly not on a large scale. She had interrogated any Jedi she could find for information on what had happened, and the short of it was that the militant branch of the Gotal Assembly for Separation, the Roshu Sune, had committed acts of terrorism against the Republic, and the Jedi force that had been sent to stop them later severely underestimated the resistance they may face. There had been several Jedi casualties and many civilian casualties, and in the end their deaths had amounted to nothing. The Jedi, in a fantastically horrible attempt at victory, had used an electromagnetic pulse to overwhelm the Gotal’s sensitive head cones. It had worked, incapacitating the terrorists, but at a high cost; the civilians had also been subjected to the pulse, and many were left in severe pain.

The Republic counted it as a victory, but the populace of Antar 4 made it clear they sympathised with the CIS, no matter their official allegiance.

Soon thereafter, bombings began occurring on Coruscant. The Roshu Sune claimed it was their doing, and done in the name of Count Dooku. That had earned some backlash from many in the temple. Master Dooku would never condone something like that, it simply wasn’t plausible. The Jedi took Master Dooku’s silence on the matter as confirmation of that.

Only months later was the secession of Ando and Sy Myrth, and the number of separatist planets rose to over six thousand. Debates in the Senate were frequent, yet nothing ever seemed to get done. Still, they argued over the formation of an army, and now that Arwen had heard of the terrorist attacks, and seen with her own eyes the aftermath of the bombings on Coruscant, she became more and more sure that Master Du was right.

War was coming, and the padawan couldn’t conjure up little more than dread and worry. But the Echani in her was positively vibrating with anticipation; this was what her people did, this was why she trained, and she’d defend the Republic with everything she had—

An alarming chain of thought that set her on edge whenever it crossed her mind. Arwen entertained the idea of cutting down enemies with her sabers, using the Force to her advantage, thinking up complex battle plans and reconnaissance missions, leading troops to victory and saving innocents from death and suffering, and she had to force herself to stop every time it happened.

Jedi should not have any delusions of glory, and they certainly shouldn’t desire to fight—not in a war, or any context where violence was the first resolution. Besides that, there was no future where Arwen could see ever being permitted to take part in a war as a member of the Jedi Order, and she was absolutely not willing to leave. No, it was best to shove those thoughts into the very back of her mind, and meditate on them when she was alone. The most involvement she, and any other Jedi would have in a war, would be offering aid and relief.

She wasn’t sure she had the stomach for war anyway, no matter her brief anticipation. The Jedi had schooled the need for war away long before it had any chance to truly take root, and her own studies had revealed copious horrid details of exactly what war did to people, whether they participated or not.

War was not glorious, it was destructive and grotesque, and the people who stood on the sidelines, those most innocent and in need of protecting, often suffered the most.

Eventually, once the refugee situation had been brought under control, Arwen and Master Du were given an extended leave—the Council said three months, given their near tireless work the last two years, but privately she thought they wouldn’t be so lucky. Regardless, Arwen would enjoy her brief break while she could.

Coruscant had been relatively quiet the last few weeks—as quiet as Coruscant could get, at least. There hadn’t been any more bombings, the protests that had been occurring had all ended peacefully, and the Senate wasn’t kicking up any more racket than they usually did. Arwen buried herself beneath her studies as soon as she returned, eager to catch up on a few things before Master Du realised she’d been neglecting them, and spent the next few days finishing up research papers and assignments. When she finished, she searched for a sparring partner, but was unable to drag anyone away from their own responsibilities. She’d been hopeful for Tarrock to join her, but he confessed that he’d rather lost interest in lightsaber combat since the Separatist Crisis began and no longer practised with regularity.

It had been a long way to say no.

Arwen was left with no choice but to train by herself, which wasn’t an issue because she did that when Master Du didn’t have the time when they were off-world, but part of her excitement to come back to the temple was for spars. Instead, Arwen powered up a few firing droids and began deflecting bolts, upping the firing rate constantly.

Soresu came not easily, but naturally. Her tireless efforts with Master Du had made her fluid and efficient, and knowing that her best form was one almost entirely based on defence eased Arwen’s mind when she wrestled with the impossible thought of fighting in a war.

She was just in the middle of a high-fire round when she sensed him—Anakin. She’d sparred with him frequently enough that she recognised his Force signature when it was so close. She wasn’t particularly good at sensing other peoples presences, only if she knew them well, and even so the range wasn’t far, so that must mean—

Arwen spun, crossing her blue sabers in front of her in an X, and Anakin’s blue lightsaber met the centre.

“Nice try, Anakin.”

He huffed, disengaging his lightsaber, “Thought you were distracted.”

“I was. I can just sense you. When did you get back?” She switched hers off too, clipping them onto her belt.

“Yesterday. We were on Ansion for a border dispute.”

“Oh? How did that go? Another secession?”

“We thought it might be, but we managed to create a truce between the Unity Council—they wanted to secede—and the Alwari—they’re the nomadic tribes—and in the end they voted to stay in the Republic.”

“Oh,” Arwen said, then smiled, “That’s surprising, but nice to hear after what happened on Antar 4. We need more peaceful resolutions.”

Anakin nodded in agreement and the pair began walking out of the training hall, “When did you get back?”

“Five days ago. We’ve been all over the place these last few months, trying to get refugees out of camps and into real homes.”

“Oh yeah, Obi-Wan mentioned something about that. We were going to join you and Master Du for one of those missions. I think Master Luminara and Barriss went instead.”

“They did, but only for a few weeks. They had something more urgent to do in the Outer Rim.”

Anakin nodded, and the pair continued their relatively light conversation through dinner. They agreed to meet the next morning for a few spars, now much easier to coordinate without drastically different schedules, and parted ways for the evening.

The following days spars were hard fought and fun. Anakin was making leaps and bounds in Form V, and she in III and IV. The styles were well matched, and Anakin’s raw power made him a very good partner indeed, but Arwen still disarmed him after several long rounds.

Unlike the last time she had sparred with him, which had been several months ago, Anakin seemed to be taking the losses a little hard, the last one in particular. His cheeks were slightly red, his brow furrowed, jaw set, shoulders tense, and his fist white-knuckled around his lightsaber’s grip.

“Interesting parry at the beginning of that round,” Arwen said suddenly, “I’ve not seen it before. It looks difficult.”

Anakin exhaled shakily, “It’s a new one I’ve been practising. It’s easier than it looks.”

“Effective, though. Can you show me?”

Though she had no intention of learning Form V for quite a few years now, it successfully distracted Anakin for the next few minutes and calmed him down, at least until a group of younglings entered, chattering away before the beginning of their lightsaber lessons.

“I saw it on the holonet—seven people died in the explosion.”

Arwen and Anakin both looked over—another bombing?

“The Roshu Sune again?”

“The report said it's a suspected assassination attempt, so probably not.”

“She survived though, didn’t she?”

“Who?”

“Senator Amidala. Her decoy died but—” Anakin sprinted off, leaving Arwen calling after him. She debated chasing after him, but when she reached the exit he had already disappeared around one of the many corners and she lost track of him.

She saw him again in the afternoon, pacing the length of one of the halls. She could feel the anxiety coming off him in waves, and a strange anticipation that felt unfamiliar. Slowly, Arwen approached him, “Anakin? Everything alright?”

He didn’t even turn to acknowledge her, “Padmé almost died.”

“The senator?” Arwen asked. She was one of the few good politicians left, and her death would have been a great tragedy and loss, but she’d survived, and apparently with no injuries. She wasn’t quite sure why Anakin was so upset, “She’s alright though.”

Anakin stopped and glared at her, but his lower lip looked like it was wobbling. Suddenly feeling awkward, and not understanding why Anakin was behaving this way, she rocked back on her feet, waiting for him to speak.

He said nothing for a while, simply resuming his pacing, but eventually he cracked, “I’ve known Padmé since I was nine. I met her when she was Queen Amidala, posing as a handmaiden during the blockade on Naboo.”

Arwen nodded her understanding, even though Anakin wasn’t looking at her.

“I haven’t seen her since the parade, but she’s very… important to me,” Anakin looked at her now, and she could see the worry plain on his face. She hadn’t known he was close with Senator Amidala, or that he could care so much for someone he apparently hadn’t seen in ten years. Indeed, when Anakin had mentioned Naboo he seemed reluctant to share much more than the fact that he’d been there. Arwen thought that might be because he was under orders from Master Kenobi or the Council, as Anakin was prone to bragging.

“Have you been able to speak to her?”

“No,” he sounded almost pained, “but Master Kenobi and I have been assigned to protect her.”

“Then stop worrying, Anakin. You and Master Kenobi are more than capable of keeping her alive and safe.”

“We should be trying to find out who did this!” He snapped, “If we can get rid of whoever’s trying to assassinate her—”

“So it definitely wasn’t the Roshu Sune?”

Anakin huffed, “They’re not taking credit for it, and they always take credit for their bombings.”

“Isn’t the best option to let the experts investigate then? Or Senator Amidala’s own team? Maybe she already has a few suspects in mind—”

“She thinks Count Dooku is behind it.”

Arwen’s mouth snapped shut, and she had to actively push down the sudden wash of anger and disbelief she felt on his behalf, “Master Dooku would never do something like that.”

Anakin just shrugged, “That's what Padmé told the Chancellor, Master Yoda and Master Windu.”

When he said nothing more, Arwen narrowed her eyes accusingly, “You don’t believe that, right? He’s a Jedi—”

“He left the Order,” he said non committedly.

“He used to teach me—”

“Not even for two years.”

Bristling, Arwen stepped forward, “Master Yoda taught him, and he taught Master Qui-Gon, who taught Master Kenobi. Master Dooku was, is, one of the best Jedi in the temple. Why would he try to assassinate someone? And with an explosion no less. It doesn’t really fit the Jedi prerogative, does it?”

Anakin rolled his eyes, “Whoever it might be, I still think we should be investigating and tracking down whoever did this.”

Arwen sighed, willing herself to calm down. Anakin was stubborn to a fault, and far too passionate sometimes, but she would get nowhere trying to convince him of anything he didn’t want to hear. That was best left to his master. Besides, it wasn’t really her business anyway.

“Anakin.”

Speak of the devil, Arwen thought, turning to bow to Master Kenobi as he approached. He gave a short bow in turn and a pleasant smile. His hair was longer than ever, as was his beard, but he was still the same old Master Kenobi.

“Are we leaving, Master?”

“Yes. Perhaps next time you should check your comms device.”

Anakin gave a sheepish look and Arwen looked down to hide her smile, “Best of luck,” she said, in favour of teasing Anakin further, “May the Force be with you.”

Anakin and Master Kenobi parroted the phrase back to her and they exchanged bows before parting ways. She saw Master Kenobi even less frequently than Anakin, and even so their exchanges were mostly limited to greetings, goodbyes and very brief small talk before one of them had to go. Still, she would always remember him for the times he’d comforted her as a youngling and encouraged her to delve a little further into her studies. That decision, she was sure, was what had made Master Du select her as her padawan.

With little else to do, Arwen spent the rest of the day studying, and the next practising with her saber. Master Du had made herself scarce earlier in the day, warning her as soon as Arwen woke that their respite was likely to be over soon.

“There’s been some developments regarding Senator Amidala. I’m not sure what exactly, but Master Windu warned me that we’ll likely be called away soon.”

Arwen sleepily nodded, suppressing a yawn, “Thought three months sounded too good to be true.”

“Don’t act like you’re not pleased to have something to do again.”

She hadn’t seen Master Du for the rest of the day, but there were murmurs of another attempt on Senator Amidala’s life during the night. Obviously, Anakin and Master Kenobi had succeeded in protecting her, but for two attempts to occur within a single day?

Senator Amidala was a powerful woman, with a stout moral compass and the ability to persuade almost anyone given enough time. Master Du had made her watch plenty of recordings of Senate hearings, most of which went over her head, and while it made it easy to understand why a woman like Senator Amidala would have powerful enemies, it certainly didn’t narrow down the suspects.

Arwen managed a brief catch up with Tarrock just before dinner and, when she was unable to find Master Du during her quick scan of the room, she opted to eat alone. Her master liked to maintain strict mealtimes, but was often busy. Likely, she was eating while working, and would catch up with Arwen later.

When she didn’t return by late in the evening, Arwen grew worried. Master Du liked to take advantage of the peace and quiet whilst in the temple, maintaining a strict sleeping schedule that wasn’t possible when they were out on missions. Arwen was finally slipping into her bedroom when she heard her master come in. Glancing at the time, Arwen winced. Her master would be tired come the next morning.

“Master Du? Where have you been?”

“With Obi-Wan Kenobi, comparing notes on padawans,” she gave Arwen a pointed look.

“I haven’t done anything wrong lately,” she said, though she still wracked her brain for anything that she might have done.

“No, you haven’t,” Master Du gave her a searching look, and Arwen resisted the urge to shrink away slightly. She wasn’t often given these looks, not since she had first joined Master Du. The kind of look that made her feel like she was being sized up, examined, and picked and pulled apart, “Anakin has left for his first solo mission. I’ve been thinking you might be ready for one soon too.”

Arwen straightened up, eyes brightening, “Really? You think I’m ready?”

“Almost. A few weeks, perhaps months, and maybe I’ll let you head out on your own.”

She resisted the urge to jump up and down and celebrate, instead just barely curbing a ridiculous grin and bowing, “Thank you, Master.”

“Don’t thank me just yet. In times like these, lone Jedi have their work cut out for them.”

Though she agreed, and a small part of her worried that she wouldn’t be able to handle it—she was only seventeen—she couldn’t wait to set off on her own, even if it was just for a week. She was desperate to prove herself to Master Du, and to the Council. The faster that happened, the faster she would be knighted.

It wouldn’t happen within the next year, or two, or three, but she hoped to be knighted before she was twenty four—realistically, she wasn’t sure how much more she could learn under Master Du at that age—but she hoped it would happen earlier. The youngest anyone had ever been knighted was age 15. That honour belonged to Vernestra Rwoh, who’d died decades ago. Arwen had already passed that milestone, but age twenty was her goal, though she made sure not to get her hopes too high, and she was comforted by the fact that she and Anakin seemed to be progressing at around the same time. At this rate, she’d likely be knighted around the same time as Anakin.

Master Du woke Arwen in the morning after having received a comms call from Master Windu. Politicians and ambassadors were growing fearful of the ramifications for speaking out in the Senate—a very reasonable fear to have—and were requesting Jedi escorts to ensure their safe departure and arrival on their homeworlds. She and Master Du would be two of dozens sent out as escorts.

It continued on like that for weeks, escorting people to their homeworlds and escorting others to Coruscant on their return trip. Airspace traffic was even more chaotic than usual, and moving at a slow crawl with the constant threat of terrorists like the Roshu Sune sneaking in.

Though busy, it was dull work, and the constant travelling had Arwen either piloting or studying until she no longer had any assignments to do—a first for Arwen.

Their most recent mission would see them escorting an ambassador and his family back to Rodia, a planet Arwen was eager to explore if she was given the chance as she had never been there.

It was a simple mission, though it took several days given it was on the other side of the galaxy, and though hyperspace travel was incredibly fast, it didn’t eliminate time altogether. They arrived during the night on Rodia, saw the ambassador and his family safely home and began their journey back. They made it halfway back to Coruscant when they had stopped to refuel.

That was when Master Windu contacted them.

That was when they were called to Geonosis.

#star wars the clone wars #star wars #clone wars #fanfiction #oc #arwen luthal #echani #female oc #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ur-sema du #holy shit #we're almst to the actual clone wars #im so sorry #rex is almost here i promise #then eventually cody #my sweet boys

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