#ofc x commander Wolffe

[enigmaticexplorer]

I Yearn, and so I Fear - Part I - Chapter I

Masterlist | Next Chapter

General Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers. 

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

General Warnings. Canon-typical violence and assault, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death. This story deals with heavy content. If you’re easily triggered, please do not read. For a more comprehensive list of tags, click here.

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Chapter Word Count. 4.8K

Beta. @starstofillmydream

“The risk of love is loss and the price of loss is grief. But the pain of grief is only a shadow when compared with the pain of never risking love.” - Hilary Stanton Zunin

16 Telona

Kazi would never again visit the lighthouse with her sister.

The place where they peeled citrus-stars, watched oceanic storms, danced in puddles, played and laughed, and smacked the other when they argued. It was their sanctuary. And, of course, the ragged lighthouse overlooking Outlook Harbor preserved their culture—the eldest of Ceaian legend.

The legend of the dragons.

As legend claimed, a dragon guarded each Ceaian harbor, its fire a source of light for ships navigating the rugged surf and rocky cliffs. Without the dragons’ guidance, sailors would crash and drown, and the Ceaian population waste away.

When the last of the dragons died, lighthouses replaced their source of light and guidance. But a lighthouse could never replace the security and warmth of a dragon. 

A lighthouse could never replace the visceral reaction of seeing a dragon. Of knowing you were home.

Dominated by childlike wonder, Kazi decided, when she was six, that she would buy the old lighthouse and fix it up. Beside it, she would build an inn. And one day her inn—adorned with her sister’s flowers and succulents—would be the most lauded across all of Ceaia. 

For years the dream sustained her and her sister. She would run the inn and manage the finances, meanwhile her sister would oversee decorations and meal planning. Nothing else mattered. Except for a rowdy sailor here or there. But Kazi would handle them too. Because she would protect her sister. She would always protect her little sister.

And so those girls dreamt of their future and planned for endless happiness.

But life never cared much for dreams. 

Nowadays, Kazi tried to forget the lighthouse’s existence. It made it easier to ignore the ache in her heart and guilt in her mind. 

Slashing rain warmed her fingers as Kazi snapped the final window shut, securing the house from the onslaught of the torrential rainstorm. The sunroom’s windows—spanning the entirety of the wall—overlooked the rolling hills of Eluca’s endless jungle, the planet’s three moons hidden behind clouds pregnant with more rain.

Housing a small couch, four armchairs, a game table, and a handful of potted plants Daria fawned over, the sunroom was Kazi’s favorite place in the house. It boasted the best view of sunrises, and the best views of Eluca’s near-daily rainstorms. 

Tonight, the storm was the worst Kazi had seen since arriving on Eluca two months ago. It wasn’t an oceanic storm, but it was close enough. 

Thunder boomed, loud enough to rattle the windows. Rain harshened its upheaval; lightning spider-webbed chaotic rictuses across the blackened sky. 

Kazi started to smile—the awe and terror of raging storms a memory buried—but the muscle movement strained. Her half-smile fell away. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she last smiled. At least two months. Probably the day before the Purge—

“I met a man at the marketplace today.”

Kazi stiffened. From the corner of her eye, her sister approached the windows, hands clasped loosely before her stomach. A healthy distance—a meter—separated their bodies. Daria seemed to maintain the distance instinctively. Kazi both noted and despised it.

There was a time when Daria would sneak into her bed late at night. Usually scared from the storms, her sister sought refuge beneath her bed covers. She hadn’t minded. What else was a big sister for? 

Now, the distance was a physical phenomenon. Tangible; representative of the emotional distance built over the last decade. Kazi held the blame and responsibility. But she still craved the missing connection. The muffled laughter in the middle of the night; sneaky grins; warm hugs. 

Daria observed the lashing rain with a blasé countenance that belied her usual calculation. “He’s kind but also ambitious, and his financial situation is sound. I want you to meet him—”

“No.” Kazi crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve told you, repeatedly, that I won’t entertain arranged dates—”

“This one is good,” Daria interrupted, facing her. “Give him a chance—”

“I said no.”  Kazi kept her voice quiet and controlled, refusing to yell and risk waking Neyti. “I’m too busy with work and taking care of you—”

Daria recoiled. A flash of lightning emphasized the blush staining her cheeks. Kazi bit her tongue. Her sister was sensitive to any mention of her illness. 

“I only ask that you consider meeting him.” Daria straightened, her gentle poise sharpening, like a vibroblade sparking to life. “I’d like to see you married before I die.”

Kazi bit back her annoyed groan, opting for a glare. Currently, she had three goals, and marriage was not one of them. 

The first goal was treatment for her sister’s illness. It should have been simple to accomplish, and while she had found a healer specialized in palliative care, Daria’s symptoms were still ubiquitous and worrisome. Even now sweat beaded her sister’s forehead, and her fingers spasmed unintentionally. 

The problem laid with ineffective medicine, according to Healer Natasha’s most recent report. 

“As I’ve told you,” Kazi said slowly, “I’m not interested in wasting my time on arranged dates—”

“How are you not lonely?”

Kazi scoffed. “Loneliness is not a reason to get married.”

“Maybe not,” Daria said, “but you have no one to rely on. No parents. No friends. No husband.” 

A hollow sensation gaped in her chest but Kazi ignored it. 

Daria took her silence as permission to continue. “Marriage is a necessity in life. Humans desire companionship—women desire the stability a man can bring to our lives. We’re not meant to be alone.”

Kazi took a few seconds to organize her thoughts and counterarguments. After years with a mother who shared Daria’s sentiment, she was prepared for this specific debate. 

“Marriage isn’t something you can force between two people who don’t know one another,” Kazi started, forcibly calm. “Marriage should be based on love. Not desperation or settling out of loneliness. Marriage is about two people who realize they want to share life together. Who feel life is complete when the other is in it.”

Daria snorted. “That’s quite the idealistic notion of romance I wouldn’t expect from you.”

“It’s not idealistic—”

“But it is.” Daria quirked a manicured eyebrow. “Marriage is a pact to maintain the traditions and ideals of two families, and to implement those beliefs in a future generation. It’s more than just love.”

At the condescension in her sister’s tone, Kazi gritted her teeth. She wasn’t an idealist; she preferred realism as her chosen form of analysis. But love wasn’t an idealistic notion for hopeless romantics. She had read the stories and myths. Love was attainable. Maybe not for her, but it still existed. And she refused to settle for a marriage borne out of duty rather than respect and trust and emotional connection.

The argument represented the sisters’ different lines of thinking, and Kazi couldn’t help but wonder: if their father hadn’t died when they were so young and their mother imposed Reformist teachings on an impressionable Daria, would Daria have shared Kazi’s beliefs?  

Then again, Daria was the perfect mold she was trained to be: a dutiful wife. And nothing more.

“Think about Neyti,” Daria said. “She’s a child who needs stability in her life—who needs the stability a man can provide.”

Kazi sniffed. “I don’t need a man to provide stability to Neyti’s life. I can provide it.”

“I know you feel responsible for upholding your promise to her mother,” Daria placated, “but you need to think about this situation logically. Neyti needs a family. She needs two parents. She needs emotional support and love.”

“I can be her family.” Kazi frowned at her sister. “I can raise her. I can love her. I can take care of her.”

“Oh, Kazi.” Daria gave her a sympathetic look that itched. “Do you truly believe that?”

“Yes.”

“You have no emotional capacity for a child. You can’t take care of her the way she deserves to be taken care of. Not when you’re alone.”

Kazi resisted the urge to flinch, and instead, shifted her attention to the game table where a bedraggled stuffed dog laid. The toy belonged to a six-year-old girl—a girl shoved into her arms when she was fleeing Ceaia. A child who no longer spoke and remained an enigma she couldn’t figure out. Neyti. 

The second goal was to find Neyti suitable, loving parents. Parents who could raise the sweet child in an insecure world fraught with instability and fascism. However, the goal was proving difficult. 

Entering a child into a credible adoption center required extensive documentation. Medical records, education certificates, familial-history records. Kazi didn’t even know Neyti’s last name, much less have access to any of the required documents. 

Their first week on Eluca, she enrolled Neyti in the local primary school, and she secured baseline medical tests. The medical tests proved useful for Neyti’s therapy. Still, the adoption process was slow and arduous. 

Daria wasn’t aware of Neyti’s impending adoption. She believed Kazi was committed to raising Neyti herself. It was a secret Kazi wanted to maintain. Still, Daria’s concern for her lacking competence to care for Neyti hurt. 

“I have emotions, Daria.” Her voice was too strained and Kazi grimaced, clearing away the twinge of hurt. “I’m passionate, I feel things, I experience a wide range of emotions. Just because I don’t allow them to dictate my decisions doesn’t mean I’m unfeeling and emotionless.”

 “I never said you were.” Daria waved a dismissive hand. “All I’m saying is that your emotional capacity is not sustainable nor durable for a child. You work all day; you work late into the night. You aren’t physically around much for her, and you’re too aloof to provide her the emotional stability she needs. Have you ever considered why she still doesn’t speak?”

“She’s grieving—she lost her mother two months ago,” Kazi said disbelievingly. “She needs space to grieve, and I’m not going to force her to do something she finds solace in.”

“But have you considered the possibility that she doesn’t feel comfortable or safe with you to speak?” Kazi winced at the accusation but her sister wasn’t finished. “Neyti needs emotional support, which you can’t give if you’re not physically present.”

“This conversation is over.” Kazi uncrossed her arms, fisting her hands behind her back to hide their trembling. “I’m not entertaining a marriage for the sake of a false notion of stability.”

“It’s not a false notion,” Daria argued. “You may refuse to acknowledge it in yourself, Kazi, but I see it. I see your struggles, and I know that you need someone—”

“That’s enough.” She turned away from the windows. “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about my own wants. So don’t you dare try to pretend that you’re interested in securing me a marriage outside of your own personal goal of making me live up to Mama’s teachings.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do—”

“It is. Just because you failed to get married and have children, doesn’t mean I want that for myself.”

Daria flinched. Disbelief wrinkled her forehead, and for a long moment, she merely stared at Kazi, as if uncertain who stood before her.

“Every woman wants to be married and have children,” Daria finally said, securing her hurt behind a well-practiced mask. “It’s in our nature.”

“You’re delusional.” Kazi ignored Daria’s affronted glare. “Forget Mama’s teachings. They did nothing to help you, and she was wrong about most things.”

“Don’t disrespect the dead.”

“I didn’t respect her when she was alive. What’s the difference now?”

“Maybe Mama was right.” Daria sneered at her. “Your access to emotions died the day Papa did.”

Kazi opened her mouth—what to say, she wasn’t sure—but two loud knocks on the front door interrupted. A signal. It was a reminder of her third and final goal: to survive the rebel network.

Relations with the rebel network were new and difficult to navigate. Kazi was indebted to them. She owed them her life—and Daria and Neyti’s lives—and for that reason, she served the network’s needs. However, the network wasn’t a benevolent entity, and being indebted to its cause rattled Kazi more than she liked to admit. 

Typically, she avoided debts. They forced her into a compromising position, allowing someone the opportunity to control her. She preferred self-reliance to kindness, and when she did indebt herself, she always paid it back quickly. 

Her father believed it a question of honor and a true demonstration of character. Her mother took a more cynical approach: “To be in someone’s debt is to give them power over you,” she once told Kazi. “Only fools put themselves in such situations.”

Sometimes she wondered how her mother would have responded to the Purge. Would the Ennari matriarch humble her obstinance to secure a means for survival? 

Whatever her mother would have decided didn’t matter. Kazi sought the network’s aid, and now she owed them. So far, she had met Eluca’s five rebels, the cohort a tight-knit group. It was one of many belonging to the larger network slowly establishing a presence in the Outer Rim. 

Kazi rarely interacted within the cohort, receiving orders from Fehr or Bash, the network’s main contacts, and acted alone. But that morning, she received a comm from Fehr asking her to join an unexpected meeting. The message left her unsettled, and her arrival at the abandoned warehouse used for most meetings heightened her consternation. 

Some days, like that morning, she questioned if she was walking into a trap, wary of Imperial stormtroopers posed for her capture. Today, only the five other rebels were present. 

“My contact has informed me that three men want to establish a safehouse out of reach of the Empire,” Fehr said. A human woman at least twenty years Kazi’s senior and the owner of one of Hollow Town’s highest employed farms, Fehr preferred brusqueness to political coyness. It was something Kazi appreciated. “Their operations will be separate from ours.”

Carinthia, a data courier for Moff Harpy of Veridian Sector and a skilled identification and chip saboteur, narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “How do you mean?” 

“These men will be running rescue-and-relocate missions.” Fehr glanced across the five other members. “They’re former employees of the Empire.”  

Kazi pursed her lips, noting the discomfort of those around her. Bash, Head Treasurer of Eluca’s national bank and a well-respected member of the Elucan government, furrowed his brows. Lore and Sparks, married pilots, shared a skeptical look.

“Former employees of the Empire can’t be trusted,” Carinthia argued, her skin eerily pale in the warehouse’s shadows.

“We trust you,” Lore said casually.

Carinthia sneered. “I never worked for the Empire—”

“But your family—”

“Is of no importance.” Carinthia swiped her hand through the air. “How do we know we can trust these men?”

“The more important question is,” Kazi interrupted, irritated by Fehr’s lack of transparency, “who are these men? You say they’re former employees, but where did they work?”

“Former intelligence workers would be nice to have,” Sparks said. Lore nodded her agreement.

Fehr took a deep breath, black eyes settling on Kazi. “These men are former soldiers.”

Kazi tensed, an unwelcome burst of panic clogging the back of her throat. Fehr wouldn’t risk the dangers of— 

“They’re clones.”

In the silence that followed Fehr’s declaration, Kazi forced herself not to react. She bit her tongue until it hurt, controlling her features and ordering her panic to calm the fuck down. She could not appear incompetent nor afraid. 

But the panic in her chest was as sharp as an electric shock. Simultaneously heart-stopping and heart-quickening. 

“Clones are loyal to the Empire,” Bash said diplomatically. 

A silky voice imbued with a calm that complimented Fehr’s usual bluntness, Bash was a difficult person to read. With bronze skin and cunning silver eyes, he and Fehr were the sole rebels indigenous to Eluca. His position within the planetary government, as well as his contacts within the rebel network, made him the most important and powerful member of the cohort. 

To learn that Bash wasn’t aware of the clones’ arrival intrigued Kazi. Similar to the Empire’s backstabbing politicking, it seemed the rebel network didn’t share all their information with each of its contacts. Kazi tucked away the information. 

“We can’t trust them,” Bash continued.

“Be reasonable, Fehr,” Carinthia said, her smile wan. “Clone allegiance is to whichever government is in control.”

Fehr straightened, and though her tone was collected, it was lined with an edge that could cut. “These men have denounced their allegiances—”

“And their allegiances could switch again.” Sparks shook his head. Even the adventurous pilot was hesitant. “If you need an example: look at the Republic.”

Agreement swept through the small group. But Fehr was staunch in her decision. 

“The clones are operating a rescue-and-relocate mission. Our paths will rarely cross, and they won’t be working planetside.” Fehr stared them down, her glare unapologetic. 

Shortly after, the meeting dissolved. Kazi made to leave but Fehr motioned for her and Carinthia to stay, the latter throwing a perplexed look at Kazi. The moment Bash left, his eyes narrowed in skepticism, Fehr faced the two women.  

“There’s more about the clones that I didn’t share with the cohort,” Fehr said. “The clones will be staying planetside.”

To her annoyance, Kazi noticed Carinthia studying her. They were similar in age, and yet their backgrounds were vastly different. Carinthia hailed from a wealthy family that lived in the Inner Rim, and her shrewd personality bordered conniving. 

“They need somewhere spacious to make their base. Somewhere far enough away from the city where they can easily hide.” Fehr squared her shoulders and stared Kazi in the eye. “I offered the men the basement.”

Kazi blinked, uncertain if she had heard correctly. 

“The basement…” Her voice hitched and she cleared her throat. “You want the clones to stay in the basement. At the house where I’m living.”

Fehr nodded.

Her hands started to tremble and Kazi clenched her jaw. Clenched it so hard she thought it might break. 

“The clones are the reason I’m on this damned planet, Fehr.” The strain in her voice was palpable but she didn’t care. Fehr was the sole rebel she considered somewhat benevolent, and this new information was a betrayal she wasn’t prepared for. “Have you forgotten that?”

“I haven’t,” Fehr said calmly. Too calmly. ���But these men deserted. They don’t serve the Empire and they need a place to stay. I considered one of the apartments in town but people will be curious and could start talking. The house is an ideal location.”

The house, not your house. 

Because the house didn’t belong to Kazi. It belonged to Fehr who had gifted it to her when she first arrived on Eluca, homeless and penniless. 

The memory still rankled her. Her pride cringed at her forced reliance on another person. Her chagrin was further heightened by her financial helplessness. Years of frugality, investments, and savings were made obsolete by the rise of the Empire. 

“It’s not that awful, Kazi,” Carinthia said. “The house is large. Large enough for you three to survive cohabitation with a few clones.”

Before Kazi could respond, Fehr raised her hand. “I know your history with the clones isn’t ideal. And if you’re uncomfortable—” Carinthia released a derisive scoff that had Kazi tensing. Fehr shot the younger woman a hard look. “If it’s too much, I can look at other locations. But the basement—”

“Is ideal,” Carinthia cut in. “It’s large enough, and it connects to the communications tower. I assume that’s a necessity for them.” Carinthia twirled a crimson curl around a finger, her expression contemplative. “Eluca’s proximity to a well-plotted hyperlane, and the surgent of Imperial military bases across Veridian Sector and the Outer Rim, at large, make this planet the most effective base.”

Fehr nodded, her attention returning to a still-silent Kazi. “It’s your choice.”

Except it wasn’t. Not really. The house wasn’t even in her name—an attempt to protect her sister and Neyti. To prevent Imperial officials looking into their sudden immigration and ambiguous history. 

It was an older yet well-maintained home settled in a forgotten neighborhood five kilometers from Hollow’s Town. The neighborhood stood empty except for two other houses located a kilometer away. 

Built a century prior in the midst of a planetary civil war, the basement served as a bomb shelter. One of four designated for the neighborhood. Fortified by duracrete and buried deep in Eluca’s soil, the basement housed five bedrooms with ten bunks each, three refreshers equipped with full amenities, and a war room dedicated to military strategy. The war room was still wired to the communication tower in the capital. The only communication tower available for public use in Veridian Sector with consistent and reliable access to the Mid and Inner Rims. 

Kazi had visited the basement once. The darkness, and the knowledge that hundreds of tons of dirt could easily bury her, convinced her never to return. It was the ideal location for rescue-and-relocate missions. Which irked her.

“It’s fine.” She clasped her hands behind her back. She was indebted to Fehr, anyway. “We can make it work.”

Three more knocks, rapid and quieter, followed the first two. The completion of the signal. Kazi followed Daria through the kitchen and toward the front door, her body tensed to a point of pain. Anxiety itched her skin, like thousands of ants crawling along her spine and burrowing in her hair. 

She opened the door and then retreated a safe distance. Fehr stepped into the small entryway. Behind her, three males followed. Dark gray ponchos hid their upper bodies and hoods cast their faces in shadows. 

Kazi schooled her features into insouciance. One of the few benefits of etiquette lessons: she could control her expression. For the most part. 

Rain frizzed Fehr’s ebony hair and the older woman patted her braids, nodding at Kazi. She scanned the kitchen behind the two sisters. “Is Neyti—”

“Asleep.” Her tone was curt and she ignored Daria’s disapproving scowl. 

The older woman chuckled. “School must have been exhausting if she can sleep in this weather.”

“The thunder was louder back—” Well, it didn’t matter. 

Silence ensued, eclipsed by the echoing thunder and the rain from the clones’ ponchos dripping onto the hardwood floor. Ever the dutiful host, Daria stepped forward, her smile practiced kindness and warmth. 

The ease in her sister’s friendliness was a point of jealousy for Kazi. Growing up, she yearned to exude the same gentleness Daria effortlessly managed. She never perfected it. 

“Welcome,” Daria said. She gestured to Kazi. “We made up three of the beds downstairs and stocked the fridge with extra food.”

It was a lie. Kazi didn’t shop for the food—only Daria—and she didn’t make the beds. She lugged the sheets and pillow cases from the upstairs closet to the basement but she refused to make a bed for a grown adult. 

The clone to the left stepped forward and removed his hood. Beneath the dimmed lights in the entryway his skin was dark brown and his eyes even darker. A white scar threaded itself from his temple to his cheek. Black hair was trimmed precisely, long enough to run a hand through. He looked to be a year or two older than Kazi. Possibly twenty-eight.

“That was generous of you,” the clone said. He gestured to the two other clones. “We’re grateful for this.”

A blush darkened Daria’s cheeks and Kazi almost rolled her eyes. Her sister extended her hand and the clone accepted it. “I’m Daria, and this is my sister, Kazi.”

Kazi didn’t step forward; she didn’t offer her hand. She merely nodded. The clone assessed her for a moment, his eyes flitting from her face to Daria’s, probably noting their differences. 

Trained for society, Daria carried herself with an easy elegance. Her hair was honeyed and loosely curled. The green of her eyes was darker than the jungle after a rain shower. Hours gardening over the years had softened the curves of her body.

Unlike her sister, years of swimming left Kazi with an athletic and toned build. A body type undesired by high society Ceaian males, as she was told, repeatedly, by her instructors. 

And even though she attended the same finishing classes as Daria, she never mastered her sister’s posh demeanor. She was well-mannered and polite, but she spoke with a bluntness considered too judgmental, further heightened by the darkness of her eyes with their slashes of hazel. 

“Like a bird of prey,” her instructor for Poise and Deportment once complained to her mother.

Her mother considered her with a critical eye, and Kazi steeled herself. “I would counter: sunlight in a meadow.”  

It was one of the rare times her mother complimented her, and it had stuck with her the last seven years. To this day, her eyes remained her favorite feature.

A throat cleared and Fehr glanced at her chrono. “Kazi, Daria, let me introduce you to former commanders Cody, Wolffe, and Fox.” 

Kazi’s heart faltered. 

Commanders. The clones weren’t just soldiers. They were fucking commanders.

She shot Fehr a baleful glare. The older woman’s gaze was already on her face, and imperceptibly, she dipped her chin, acknowledgement and confirmation of Kazi’s unspoken accusation. 

The woman had known all along the clones were former commanders. She had known and had refused to mention it. 

If the situation hadn’t affected her life, Kazi would have admired Fehr’s sly play. Instead, she ignored the woman, fisting her hands tightly behind her back to hide their trembling.

The two other clones removed their ponchos. Kazi tried not to stare but the rumors were true. They were identical. Except for a few distinctive traits.

The one on the right—Commander Fox—bore a scar on his chin; his hair was similarly styled to Commander Cody’s. At her perusal, the clone arched a brow. His eyes swept across her face, in both assessment and curiosity. 

She moved her gaze to the last one. Commander Wolffe.  

He was observing her with a neutrally-controlled countenance. Narrowed eyes. Rigid shoulders. Calculated expression. 

Kazi recognized the look in his face—the subtle wariness and hardened reticence. It was the same shrewdness she practiced. One she relied on to determine genuine from disingenuous; trustworthy from unreliable. 

Emphasizing the guarded calculation in his gaze was a stark white scar. Like a bolt of lightning, it seared the skin above his right eye and slashed down to his cheek. Whatever had torn his skin must have ruined his eye, for a silver cybernetic sat in his socket.

“I have business to attend to,” Fehr said, drawing Kazi’s attention away from her analysis. The lack of explanation and the urgency in Fehr’s tone warned Kazi the ‘business’ was network-related.

Once the darkness of night swallowed Fehr’s form, Daria showed the clones to the basement. Surreptitiously hidden behind a white bookcase bereft of personable touches other than a dragon figurine and a few succulents Daria had purchased the last few weeks, the staircase to the basement was dimly lit by a buttery-yellow light. The stairs descended into a blackness thicker than the ocean’s surface on a moonless night.

Few words were exchanged. Kazi didn’t bother with false pleasantries, she left it to Daria, and soon the basement door swung back in place. The bookcase rested snugly against the white wall. Even the most observant soldier would overlook the entrance’s location.

“They seem…nice,” Daria said, shifting the pot of a vibrant blue succulent. “You could have been more inviting.”

“Why?” Kazi gave her sister a condescending smile. “Are you wanting to match me with one of them?” 

“Kazi.” Daria released an exasperated sigh. “I’m trying to help you prepare—”

“I don’t need your help. And I certainly don’t want it.” 

“Fine.” Dabbing at her forehead, Daria sniffed. “I’m sorry for caring.”

Kazi snorted. “Caring? Is that what you call this nagging?”

“I do care.” Daria started to tremble. “I have always cared and—” She cut off, pressing a palm to her temple, her face screwed in pain.

Kazi reached for Daria’s shoulder, her stomach dipping with concern. But her sister backed away. The dismissal silent yet resoundingly loud. Louder than the thunder rattling the old windowpanes. Her hand fell to her side; she tried to ignore the guilt bittering her mouth. 

Lifting her chin, Daria smoothed the fabric of her pale purple dress. She looked Kazi over once, disappointment thinning her lips, and then made her way toward the staircase opposite the bookcase. The old stairs creaked beneath her labored pace.

The moment her sister’s door clicked shut, Kazi collapsed on the bottom step, rubbing her temples. 

She didn’t want the clones here. Hell, she didn’t want to be here. On this planet. In this fucking house.

It was too much. 

Daria’s disease.

Neyti’s adoption.

Spying for the network.

Three clone commanders.

A disappointment. Incompetent. Indebted. Possibly endangered.

She looked out the kitchen windows toward a clearing sky. Eluca’s three moons peeked through the clouds like a child peering through a curtain. The urge to run—to ignore all of her problems, to avoid the responsibility—hit her. 

But she couldn’t run. Not this time. 

Masterlist | Chapter 2

A/N: Next chapter release – January 11th

Pronunciations:

Kazi Ennari: kah-zee ; uh-nar-ee Daria: dar-ee-uh  Neyti: nay-tea Fehr: fare Eluca: eh-look-ah (emphasis on first syllable)  Ceaia: say-ee-uh (emphasis on second syllable)

#I Year and so I Fear #commander wolffe x oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe #oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe x ofc #star wars fanfiction #commander wolffe fanfiction

[mrs2224]

Woof Woof! 🐺🖤

#clone fanart #star wars #star wars art #clone art #spice #spicy clones #the clone wars #feeling spicy #commander wolffe x you #wolffe x oc #star wars wolffe #commander wolffe x ofc #clone wars wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe pack #rebels wolffe #clone trooper wolffe #wolffe x reader #wolffe smut #wolffe x you #tcw wolffe #commander wolffe

[toomanybandstocare]

{Wolffegirlsunite's Polaroid Album}

[ ◉¯] ✧˖° - Polaroid Album

Mood board of a character and situation of your request. @wolffegirlsunite requested a sweet piece of fluff with a bakery setting, and I think about this pairing SO often. Thank you for celebrating with me! <3

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Baker, GN! Reader

Counselor Notes: They live in my mind rent free. Grumpy and sunshine...I'm sobbing I love them.

-> Celebration Announcement Post <-

-> Celebration Masterlist <-

-> Camp Resolute Masterlist <-

#commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x male reader #commander wolffe x female reader #commander wolffe x gn! reader #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x ofc #commander wolffe imagines #commander wolffe imagine #clone wars fanfic #clone wars imagine #the clone wars fanfiction #the clone wars imagine #clone wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanfic #tcw fanfiction #tcw fanfic #camp halfwit #camp halfwit letters #camper ask #counselor mythos report #camper wolffegirlsunite

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Moving On - Part 10

Summary: Wolffe and Jirli welcome a new member to their family.

A/N: Hello Lovelies,

Okay I haven’t had a chance to start working on The Reunion for this week, as some of you know I’m back to full time work, so instead I finished up this piece I was working on. 

A while back I had mentioned that I may do a final part to Moving On and after discussing it with @darkangel4121​ I realized I definitely needed to finish this story. So here is the final part. 

This family was so sweet, young Boba, young Din, Wolffe, Jirli, Boost, Sinker, Plo, ahhhh. I just love this story so much. I’m glad to finally be able to give it a proper ending. 

Please know I am not a medical professional, I did research on any medical situation mentioned, it may not be accurate. Please consult a physician or medical professional if you have concerns regarding your health or family’s health.

Thank you to @firstofficerwiggles​ and @ladykatakuri​ for beta reading and putting up with my nonsense. LOVE OO. 

Thank you all for showing my stories so much love. LOVE OO.

Italics and Indented - Jirli’s hearing

Warning: Pregnancy, teasing, flirting, innuendo, accidentally calling someone fat without saying fat, bantering, bickering, mentions of labour, issues with labour, concerns about baby’s health, mentions of blood, mentions of surgery, caesarean section, worry, fear, crying, anger, angst and fluff, kissing, I think that’s all of it, if I miss any please let me know.

AO3 LINK (MOVING ON)   |   WORDS: 7,771

PREVIOUS |  MOVING ON MASTER LIST  

BEC’IKA

WOLFFE POV

“If Boost comms me one more time if you’ve had the baby yet, I’m going to kill him!”

“Rekr’ika” (Little Wolf/Wolfie) Jirli’s eyes looked at me with love and admiration as she rubbed her swollen belly, while she sat on the couch with her feet resting on the caf table, while Din and Boba were busy in the kitchen making her a ‘special snack’ that was supposed to help their sister grow or have special powers or something. They basically went on a ramble about Jedi powers and what not. 

“Yes, love?” I placed a kiss on her temple, as I leaned over the back of the couch, my hand resting on her shoulder. She looked amazing, despite how tired and irritated she had been lately, we all were doing our best to help her in whatever way possible.

“You love the fact the Boost is comming ever second, especially since he started dating.”

I smirked at her statement, “Alright, you may have a point. May.” I held up my forefinger, “However, I should still be allowed to vent about my irritating little brother.”

“Mmhmm” she smirked as her hand held my forefinger as she shifted a little, wincing and gritting her teeth. Though she tried to hide her discomfort from me, I could read her like a book now.

“You okay? And please love, don’t try and lie to me” I smirked as I watched her.

She let out a sigh, as she eased herself into the sofa,“Yeah, she’s playing on my bladder. Feels like she’s doing tumbles in there.”

I chuckled, placing my hand on her belly, “Bec’ika (little pup), you need to stop hurting your buir” I leaned in closer, lowering my voice, “Otherwise, I’m the one who suffers.”

“Hey” she smacked my chest with the back of her hand, a playful light tap she would often use on me, “don’t tell her that, she’ll think I’m mean”

I took her hand placing a kiss on her palm, “No she won’t, plus she knows I’m kidding. Right, bec’ika?” I felt a tiny thump against my palm, “See, she knows”

“At least she listens to one of us”

“It’s my soothing, deep, rich tones riduur. She loves the sound of my voice” I leaned closer to Jirli’s lips, “Just like you do, when we’re alone.”

“Well, what can I say? My little girl is right to love your voice, after all like you said she’s not the only one” she smiled as she placed a kiss on my lips, “now” she pulled back smirking, “would you and your soothing, deep, rich tones please come over here and help me off the couch, so I can use the refresher?” She held up her hands grabbing the empty space in front of her, till I stood in front, taking her hands in mine.

“Yes, mesh’la” I chuckled, as I helped her stand. She shifted around the couch, till she was standing beside me, she was tittering on her feet, her belly was looking quite large, there was a very real and present fear that she could topple over, “Are you sure, you only got one kid in there?” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I knew I screwed up. 

Jirli turned to look at me, her hand squeezing mine, “What did you just say?” She tilted her head narrowing her eyes.

“Well … I mean …”

“Need I remind you, whose fault it is, that I am in this situation?” She quirked her eyebrow.

“Well I mean, it does take two” I held up two fingers to emphasize my point, “To dance, you know?”

“Oh, I see. So, you’re saying it’s my fault, that I’m so fat?”

“Th-those ….” I cleared my throat, “Those words never left mouth love.” I was praying to anything and everything to get me out of this situation, ‘Come on beb’icka, start jumping on your mom’s bladder so she has to leave’

“Then what are you saying?”

I took a minute to steady my nerves, “What I’m saying is you look beautiful”

“Mmhmm”

“I’m in trouble aren’t I?”

“Oh soooo much” she rolled her eyes, smirking at me “But, I have no doubt you’ll make it up to me.”

I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me, I lowered my voice, “Anything you’d like me to do for you?” I wiggled my eyebrows, she wrapped her arms around my neck, smirking.

“Oh definitely! I have a list of things, I need you to do for me” she rested her forefinger under my chin.

“Oh” I squeezed her waist, smirking.

“Mmhmm. First, the laundry needs to be done. Then, you need to help Din with his homework. After that, the floors need to be cleaned. The top floor needs a thorough cleaning, and once that’s all done, I may have a need for you to help me later on tonight” she flicked my chin, before she smirked as she headed to the refresher. 

“Maker, I love you”

“I know you do, and if my daughter wasn’t using my bladder as a drum for her amusement, I would stand here all day explaining all the different ways you can assist me, however … nature calls, excuse me.”

I watched as she waddled towards the refresher, my poor sweet Jirli, if only I could carry this burden for you. I walked into the kitchen, going over the list she gave me after she left my side. The silence coming from the kitchen however was unnerving me, knowing those two, when silence filled between them nothing good was happening. I was determined, as I took my steps to see what Din and Boba were up to, hopefully, I wouldn’t be entering a chaotic mess from their decision to ‘prepare snacks.’

“Alright boys, what’s going on?” I asked walking in on Boba and Din and the mess covering all the kitchen counters, not to mention they both had a look that said more than their mouths ever could.

“We made mom a snack.” 

Boba held up the dish of various fruits, roughly cut, and leaking juice all over the plate, a small amount dripping on to the floor, with one of the biggest smiles on his lips, Din with a matching smile on his face. I looked at the plate, watching as the juice soaked everything on the plate, the cheese that was cut haphazardly was lying in a pool of some sort of pink juice. Beside the cheese were her favourite crackers, now soggy from a weird yellowish-pink juice. Din somehow was covered in fruit juice, and for some reason which I couldn’t even begin to fathom, there were crackers in his hair. Boba on the other hand had cheese on his face and juice dripping down his chin, along with a weird paste smeared on his forehead.

I tried really hard not to laugh, as comical as they looked, the plate of food looked even more ridiculous as everything sloshed around with each movement of Boba’s hands. I cleared my throat, doing my best to swallow the smirk and laugh.

“I have no doubt she will love it, why don’t you boys serve that to her, and I’ll get dinner going. Okay.” I watched as they headed towards the common room, “Oh and why not stand there and make sure she eats it. You know your buir is going to need her strength” how I got that sentence out without bursting out laughing was beyond me, however, I couldn’t wait to see her reaction.

- - - - - - - - - - 

JIRLI POV

Sitting back on the couch wasn’t as bad as getting up from it, I wonder if maybe that’s why my back was throbbing now, as comfortable and lovely as this couch has been for Wolffe, Boba, Din and I, it truly did not have the back support a pregnant woman needed. 

“Buir!”

I looked to my two boys, they held out a plate of what looked like mush, “Oh! That’s … what’s that?” I tried hard not to laugh, rubbing my belly as I felt another throbbing pain, doing my best not to show my discomfort.

“We made you a plate of snacks for you.” Boba beamed proudly as he handed me the dish.

“We cut up all your favourites” Din added, “See here’s some jogan, and shuura, and muja fruit. We also cut up some cheese for you.”

“Right, this is bantha cheese, cut up in the shape of a bantha” I stifled the laugh at the shape that looked anything but a bantha, “This is also nerf cheese, cut in the shape of a nerf. There’s your favourite crackers too.” Boba pointed out every item as he described it, incredibly proud with himself and Din for what they had accomplished, which only made my heart swell to know they loved me as much as they did. 

The crackers that used to have the most perfect crunch and flakiness to them, was a bunch of mush now. Regardless of how much of a mess the plate looked like, I appreciated the sentiment behind it.

I took the plate, placing it on the table in front of me, “Thank you boys, that’s so sweet of both my little itco’rkasih (dumplings), come and give me a hug” they both wrapped their arms around me, squeezing as hard as they could. “Alright, don’t squeeze too hard, you’ll pop out your little sister.”

“When is she getting here?” Din asked pressing his ear to my belly.

“Soon”

“How soon?” Boba asked resting his hand on my belly.

“Probably another week or two”

“Can’t wait. I’m gonna show her all the new stances I’m learning” Din stood demonstrating his moves, “See, she’ll be the best fighter, because I’m going to teach her. I’ll even show her how to use her blaster and knife probably.”

“Nuh-uh, I’m the best fighter” Boba went and stood beside Din, showing off his stances, it was cute and adorable, “If anyone is going to teach our vod’ika, it’ll be me.” 

“Buir?” Din stopped his movements watching me carefully, “Why aren’t you eating?”

“Hmmm?” I really tried to pretend not to hear his question, as I watched Boba fight an invisible attacker, which only made him stop and turn to look at me.

“Buir said that we needed to stay here and make sure you ate. He said you need all your strength.”

“Oh he did, did he?” I should’ve know Wolffe had something up his sleeve, oh I couldn’t wait to make that man pay.

Din’s eyes widened as a puppy like expression appeared on his face, I swore they took more and more after Wolffe every day, “Do you not like it?”

“Of course, I do, love” I grabbed a piece of the soggy cheese, and put it in my mouth, doing my best not to gag as it slowly slid down my throat, the unusual texture and flavours throwing me for a loop, “Mmmm that is so good, thank you” I did my best to suppress the cough that was itching to come out.

“You need to eat more” Boba stated, now his face holding the same puppy like expression. “Especially for our vod’ika”

“Oh, I shall. It’s just …” sorry, sweetie but mom’s about to throw you under the speeder, I cleared my throat hoping that soggy cheese would just moved down my esophagus, “I think your vod’ika is needing something more substantial, especially since we’re eating soon.”

“Oh love, you don’t have to worry about that” Wolffe popped up beside me, leaning over the back of the couch, with a spoon in his hand, smirking, “It’s going to be at least an hour or two before we eat, so go on mesh’la, have some more of your snack.”

I placed a kiss on his cheek as I placed my hand on his pretending to take the spoon, taking the opportunity to whisper as quietly as I could to Wolffe, “I’m gonna make you pay for this.”

Wolffe simply smiled, “Mesh’la, I look forward to being punished by you”

I simply smirked at his little statement, grabbing the spoon, “You know” I turned from Wolffe to Boba and Din, “I feel absolutely guilty, knowing your buir is working hard in the kitchen without any sort of snack. Is it okay if I share this with him, I think it’ll be too much for the baby and me to eat. Is that okay?”

Din smiled nodding enthusiastically, “Yes, buir have some it’s really good.”

“Oh” Wolffe stammered, “I wouldn’t want to deprive our ad’ika”

“Nonsense, there’s plenty” I smirked, scooping up a pile of mushy crackers, juice, and soggy cheese. “Here you go sweetie, open up” I moved the spoon closer to his mouth, as he looked at me, narrowing his eyes. “Come on, the boys worked really hard on this, after all they cut the bantha cheese in the shape of a bantha and it tastes so good” I bit the inside of my cheek keeping me from laughing, as I gave him my best heart eyes. 

“Come on Cabur” Boba chimed in, “We worked really hard on it.”

I could see Wolffe’s throat bobbing up and down, before he finally nodded, opening his mouth taking the whole spoon in without a second thought. He pulled the spoon slowly out of his mouth, chewing slowly and carefully, before he swallowed it completely. I could see him struggling to keep it down, before he smirked and smiled at the boys.

“Awesome job, boys. However, let’s let your buir rest, and come help me in the kitchen, we gotta clean and get things ready for dinner, come on.”

Boba and Din stopped their sparring and headed to the kitchen, Wolffe took the plate from my hand, smirking at me the entire time, “Cyar’ika”

“Hmmm” I tried to put on the most innocent face I could.

“You are in so much trouble”

“Hey you started it”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, smiling, “Alright, you won this round. Don’t get use to it, love.”

I nodded against his lips smiling, “The fact you think you can win is adorable”

Wolffe pulled away, clearly fighting back a laugh, “I think I’ve won plenty of times my dear” he winked before he headed back to the kitchen. Once he left there was a sharp pain in my lower back, it didn’t last long, but it was intense in that moment. There was an intense pressure at first, that slowly eased. I stood up from the couch, trying to ease the pain. 

Thankfully it didn’t last long, and before I knew it Wolffe came calling me in for dinner. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

WOLFFE POV

Jirli wasn’t feeling all afternoon, it made me concerned, maybe I shouldn’t have made her try to eat that snack the boys made. Maybe it didn’t sit right in her stomach, or maybe the baby was more sensitive to certain foods, now that she was very close to being born.

“Cabur?”

“Yeah Boba?” I looked over my shoulder as I washed the dishes after dinner, while he helped me dry them, Din was busy cleaning the table and the floor. 

“Is buir okay?”

“Yeah, she’s just not feeling the greatest”

“Is it because of the snack we made?” 

“No buddy” I bumped his shoulder, “Sometimes when mom’s are about ready to give birth, they tend to feel a little up and down. It’s not the snack, buddy. It’s just her body preparing.”

“Okay” Although Boba seemed to agree, he wasn’t exactly relieved. 

“Do you believe me?” I handed him the dish I finished washing as I cleaned up the sink, before turning off the water. 

“I do”

“Then, what’s wrong?” Boba shrugged, Din came and stood beside us with a similar expression of worry, “Alright boys, let’s sit down at the table and talk okay?” They both simply nodded as they took a seat. “What don’t you boys tell me what’s troubling you?” I asked as I pulled out my chair.

Neither of them said anything at first, Boba clenched and unclenched his fists, Din was picking on some imaginary speck of dust on the table. I learned from Jirli the best thing to do is to wait to let the boys speak, no matter how long it took. “I’m going to make some tea, your buir, ba’buir (grandfather) Plo and ba’vodu (uncle) Kenobi always says there’s nothing that can’t be resolved over a cup of tea.”

We sat there keeping focused on our teas when Boba finally spoke first, “Will buir be in a lot of pain?”

“When?”

“When our vod’ika comes?” Din added

I took a sip before I decided to answer them, “It depends, every one who goes into labour, handles it differently. You have to remember that regardless your buir is a very strong woman.”

“What if she doesn’t like us?” Din mumbled through his cup, “What if she hates us?”

“Can I ask you something?” They both nodded, “You haven’t met her yet, do you like her?”

“Yeah”

“Definitely, but we’re not from the same blood” Boba offered.

“Just as much as you two love her, she will love you just as much. She may express it differently, but she’ll love you, because you’re her vode (siblings). Always remember, aliit ori'shya tal'din (family is more than bloodline), you will be always aliit (family), and your buir and I will love you both and any new adike (little ones) we welcome to rai (our) aliit the same. To us, you are all our children, and we love you all equally. Okay?” They both nodded in agreement, I reached out holding each of their hands, “Anything else you guys want to talk about?”

“How are babies made?” Din asked turning to look at me.

I blinked a few times, having the words played over in my head, I cleared my throat, just as I was about to answer, Jirli’s voice came screaming from our room.

“WOLFFE!!!!!”

The three of us looked from one to the other before I rushed up the steps, Boba and Din following close behind, as I ran into the room, she was lying on our bed, her face was all sweaty, she was panting, her hand was bracing her lower back, “Mesh’la what’s wrong?” I rushed to her side, she gripped my hand with the strength of ten Trandoshians, it was a good thing I was sitting on the bed, she easily could have brought me to my knees. 

“The baby … she’s …” She squeezed my hand again, as she let out a breath, “She’s coming”

“Coming? What do you mean she’s coming?” The grip she had on my hand tightened, nearly making me fall off the bed.

“Are you seriously asking me!”

“Oh! She’s coming! As in now?”

Jirli turned and narrowed her eyes at me, somehow her pain subsided during the moment her anger blared looking at me “No, she sent an engraved invitation announcing she’d be arriving. You don’t see it because I was instructed to burn it right after reading it.” Her jaw clenched as her hand tightened on mine. 

“Right, sorry.”

“Buir?” 

I looked over to Din, he looked worried, Boba had his arm wrapped around Din’s shoulder, “She’s okay boys, listen call your ba’vodu Boost and ask him to come watch you guys, I’m going to take your buir to the hospital.”

“On it” Boba grabbed Din’s hand and rushed out of the room. 

“Okay babe, wrap your arms around me”

“Wolffe … are … are you sure?”

“Definitely, let’s get you to the hospital” She nodded as tears streamed down her cheek, she wrapped her arms around me, squeezing, I could feel her fear, “Babe, it’s okay, we’re going to be okay, she’s going to be okay, and so are you.” I placed a kiss on her forehead, she took in a deep breath, relaxing her grip a little, as I picked her up in my arms. 

Before long, Boost was standing there with the boys, as I placed Jirli in the speeder, “Boost, I’ll comm you once she’s in a room”

“Don’t worry about us, focus on your riduur. We’ll bring her overnight bag. Just comm when you get there and let us know when you need us to head over.”

“Thank you vod, contact Plo’buir, Anakin, Sinker …”

“Wolffe, shut up and get in the speeder!”

“Okay, I’m going. I’m just saying, don’t …”

“WOLFFE!” Jirli’s voice cut over the sound of passing speeders, and our voices, I turned to look at her, “WOLFFE GET YOUR ASS IN THIS SPEEDER RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR I’M NEVER LETTING YOU NEAR ME AGAIN!!”

I didn’t need to think twice, I rushed to the driver’s side and rushed my cyar’ika to the hospital.

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

BOOST POV

If I hadn’t been on that platform, I would never have believed it. The moment Jirli raised her voice at Wolffe, he somehow became the most submissive man in the world. If he had a tail, it would have wagged left and right in a slow droopy manner. It took Boba and Din shaking my hand, to realize I had been standing there watching their speeder get smaller and smaller with a gapped mouth open. 

“Ba’vodu Boost”

“Yeah, Boba?” I was busy tidying up the house a little, knowing my vod’ika she would freak if she saw the mess in the living room when she came home, “Shouldn’t we be going to the hospital?”

“We will” I stood, picking up wrappers from some sort of snack that had gotten stuck under the couch, “but it takes time for a baby to be born, so let’s do something your mom we’ll really appreciate when she comes home. It’ll be a surprise present for her, what do you guys think?”

Boba and Din nodded, “You’re sure it’ll take a while?” Din asked tilting his head.

“Definitely. We can head over to the hospital in a few hours, once we know the baby is on it’s way. However, let’s get the house cleaned, it’ll be one less thing for your mom and dad to worry about when they come back. Sounds good?”

They nodded in unison, at that moment I’d never been prouder of my nephews than seeing them roll up their sleeves, grabbing the cleaning supplies, and without so much as another word they began cleaning, and not a light clean a deep clean. Definitely, a habit they developed from Jirli, whenever she was stressed or concerned out came the cleaning supplies. 

While they cleaned, I glanced at the comm message I received from Wolffe when they arrived at the hospital, ‘Keep the boys there. The baby isn’t in the right position. They’re hoping she’ll adjust herself. They’re monitoring the situation very carefully. However, if she doesn’t end up facing the right way, they may have to do surgery. I don’t want the boys to freak out, so for now keep them busy. I’ll message in an hour or two to let you know where we’re at.’

I looked from the comm to Boba and Din who were busy laughing and joking while they cleaned, excited to welcome their new vod’ika. I headed off to the kitchen sending a message to the family, letting everyone know what was happening. Hoping and praying that everything was going well for them.

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

WOLFFE POV

 Dr. Natuspri examined and re-examined the scan, we had been there for nearly three hours, Jirli was having some difficulty breathing, but she was still her feisty self. At that moment, she reminded me so much of Plo’buir, keeping a calm exterior, trying her best to help keep me calm.

“Anything?” She let out exasperated by the silence filling the room.

Dr. Natuspri let out a deep sigh, she put the scan down, looking at the two of us, “I don’t think we can wait any more, her oxygen levels are beginning to dip, I don’t want to risk it. We’re going to perform a C Section. Wolffe, a C Section can be intense for some, do you think you’d be comfortable enough to sit with Jirli during the operation?”

“I can sit with her in the surgery room?”

“Yes, she’ll be awake for the C Section”

“Yes”

“Alright, the medic is going to come by in a minute to take you to get the appropriate gear and I’ll get the surgical droid to come in to wheel you in, Jirli”

Jirli squeezed my hand, “Is she in danger?”

“If we wait any longer, she could be. We’re doing this to keep her from being in danger.”

She simply nodded as she watched the Doc head out, I took her hand, placing a kiss on the back of her hand, holding it to my lips, as my other hand rubbed her womb “It’ll be okay, Jirli. She’ll be okay. You both will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you are a strong, powerful, intelligent woman who would do anything for her children, and that means both of you surviving for Din and Boba” I squeezed her hand, pressing it against my forehead, “And for me” I mumbled. “You’ll both survive for all of us. It’ll be okay.” I shifted her hand, looking at her face.

She bit her bottom lip, as her hand rested on top of mine, intertwining our fingers, “Wolffe …” I saw her lip begin to tremble, “If during the surgery” she cleared her throat, “If it comes between saving our baby or me …”

“Don’t mesh’la”

“Wolffe …”

“No. Riduur, I told you a long time ago, I’m not losing you. You’ll both be fine, trust me” I squeezed her hand, I shifted, kissing her with all my love, “You’ll be fine” I mumbled against her lips. She was about to say something more, when the door slid open, as the nurses came in ushering me out of the room as they got her ready for surgery. We shared one last look. 

“I love you, Jirli”

She smiled mouthing ‘I love you,’ before a nurse took me down the hall explaining she was taking me to put on a gown, cap, mask, and shoe covers to keep the room sterile. It was a necessary process for the surgery, she went over the steps of how to wash my hands properly as well, helping me.

I hadn’t realized how nervous I was until the nurse took my gloved hands in hers, “Here let me help, your hands are shaking.” I couldn’t even answer her, I simply nodded as she took the gown from my hand and helped me put it on, my eyes were focused on Jirli’s room watching for any movement, I wanted to be ready to follow her into the room as soon as I could. 

“She’ll be okay”

“Huh?” I turned to look at the nurse, she took my hand in hers again, holding it tightly. Her thumb rubbing against my knuckles back and forth. It felt strangely intimate with the way she was looking into my eyes and standing so close to me.

“Dr. Natuspri is very good, your baby will be in good hands, and I have no doubt your partner will be fine” 

I didn’t know why at that moment, but something about the way she looked at me and held my hand made me uncomfortable, I pulled my hand out of her hold, and took a step back, “I have no doubt. My wife is a very strong and capable woman.” She offered a soft smile, taking a step towards me, her mouth opened as though she was getting ready to say something, however at that moment thankfully, Jirli came out of her room. I simply offered a quick word of thanks and rushed to Jirli’s side taking her hand in mine. 

“Alright, dad” the head nurse setting up the surgical suite called my attention, “We’ll be putting up this curtain, trust me when I say you don’t want to look behind the curtain. Especially, if you’re squeamish.”

Jirli stifled a laugh as she laid down on the med bed, “Trust me, he isn’t squeamish, right Wolffe?”

“Nope, but I think I’ll wait till you’re not cut open to look. The idea of seeing my wife cut open isn’t exactly something I itching to see.”

“I think that’s a smart idea” the surgical nurse uttered, smirking at the two of us.

“You two okay?” Dr. Natuspri stood beside us as she came into the room, we both simply nodded, “Jirli we’re going to begin, you’re not going to feel anything, but I highly recommend you don’t look Wolffe.”

“Understood” I squeezed Jirli’s hand, placing a kiss to Jirli’s forehead, stroking her head, “It’s going to be fine. She’s going to be fine.”

Jirli smiled as she squeezed my hand, “I know. I’m just … Wolffe, we’re having our baby today. Our little girl is being born today.”

I smiled wide under my mask, “Yeah she is, rid’ika. I have no doubt she’s going to be just as beautiful as you are.”

“She’s going to look like you” Jirli closed her eyes, smiling, no doubt she was communicating with the baby, something she had been doing a lot lately. “She’s excited”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she’s sending feelings of warmth, anticipation, happiness and love. She’s going to be a very happy child.”

“Just like her mom, she’ll also no doubt be getting into a lot of trouble with two brothers who wreck havoc at any given moment.”

She had a smile on her face that went from ear to ear, “Speaking of our boys, did you message Boost?”

“Yeah, they’ll be waiting for you once your done. Not just them either. “

“You contacted everyone?”

“Nope Boost did.”

She smirked, looking into my eyes, when her eyes began drooping, her head slumped against the table, the strength in her hands weakened as it slipped out of my grip, “Jirli?” 

Before she could answer me, before I could call out her name again or grab her hand, I felt a hand on my shoulder, as a baby’s cry fill the room, within moments I was being ushered from her room, outside by another nurse, and being directed to some sort of waiting room, all while my protests and calling of Jirli’s name fell on deaf ears. 

“Wait! What’s going on?”

“Please wait outside” 

I tried to push my way back in, but security guards appeared out of nowhere, forcing me into the room, they just directed me to “NO! Someone tell me , what’s going on!” I struggled against the two men who stood on either side of me.

“Mr. Koon,” a hand pressed against my chest, forcing me to look at the nurse in front of me, “I know this is scary and unexpected. Please take a deep breath” the nurse came to my side taking my arm, as I calmed down against the men restraining my arms. “I’ll explain everything Mr. Koon, my name is Angie, just come with me, and I’ll make sure they bring your daughter to you. However, for your wife’s sake and for the doctor who is working on her, I need you to remain as calm as possible. Do you agree?”

I simply nodded, trying my best not to think of the worst outcome possible. Angie offered a comforting smile as she directed me towards a chair, the room didn’t seem quite as full with despair as a moment ago. Before I even realized why I started to feel a comforting presence all around, there was this tiny bundle in my arms that looked exactly like Jirli. The moment my eyes met her tiny face, I had fallen in love, she had dark curly hair on the top of her head, her nose was perfect for her face, even her lips were so small and dainty, her fingers were barely able to wrap around my finger. She was barely the size of my forearm, she was so light, I could barely feel her in my arm. This moment didn’t feel real, but yet there she was in my arms, perfect and beautiful. My beautiful daughter. 

“Sir?”

I felt my eyes welling up with tears, I took in a deep breath, before looking up meeting Angie’s eyes, she looked as though she was waiting for me to respond, “I’m sorry?”

“I was wondering if you are able to listen to what’s happening with your wife?

I closed my eyes focusing back on my ad’ika, “Yes” I trailed my finger over her tiny head, “What happened?”

“Your wife began bleeding heavier than the doctor would have liked one your daughter was safely delivered. The Dr. Natuspri is working hard to get the bleeding under control. I’ll come back to let you know when she’s out of the woods. Once the doctor is done, we’ll move her to recovery.”

Though I heard the words, I couldn’t quite grasp what she was saying, I simply tightened my hold on my ad’ika. “Is she going to survive?” I focused on my daughter, not wanting to look at the nurse who could possibly be changing my future, with one word. 

“Dr. Natuspri is very good, she’ll do her best for your wife.”

I simply nodded, after all what was she going to say? She couldn’t provide me a guarantee on something she had no control over, as a soldier, as a the Duchess’ Head of Security I knew quite well there was no guarantees in life, and no one could guarantee anyone’s life. No matter how many precautions you took. 

I heard the door slide open, when silence filled the room, it was just me and my ad’ika in whatever room they put us. I couldn’t focus on anything except her, she was keeping me calm the longer I looked at her; I felt a warm and calming presence fill me, I couldn’t help smile and place a kiss on her tiny forehead, my beautiful ad’ika, barely born a few hours and she was already trying to take care of me. Time seemed to stand still while I held her in my arms, “I promise I’ll make sure to take care of you ner ad’ika, however thank you for taking care of me. Ni kar’tyalir darasuum gar (I love you).”

“Mr. Koon?” I froze a little at hearing Dr. Natuspri’s voice, I looked up to see the doc there smiling, I hadn’t heard the door slide open or her footsteps coming closer to me, “Your wife is just fine.” I felt tears beginning to prick my eyes, as a weight lifted off my shoulders and chest. “There was a slight concern due to the excessive bleeding which sometimes does occur in caesarean . However, we got the bleeding stopped, her vitals are looking good, we’re moving her to recovery now. I’d like to keep her for an extra day or two just to make sure there are no re-bleeds or any other complications. Your daughter, as you can see, is doing well, very healthy and no complications. She’ll be able to go home with you tomorrow.”

I nodded, bitting back the tears, “Thank you, Dr. Natuspri” I cleared my throat, “What caused the excessive bleeding?”

“An old wound she had from the war, but like I said, everything looks really good. I’ll have a nurse come and bring you both to her, okay?” She placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, “Mr. Koon, I believe there are some very impatient and very excited family members waiting for you in the waiting room” she smirked.

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

“She’s beautiful” Plo’buir took my ad’ika into his arms, “She looks so much like Jirli when she was first brought to the temple. How is my daughter doing?”

“She’s in recovery. They’re going to let me know when I can go see her” Boba and Din were peering from either side of Plo’buir trying to get a good look at their vod’ika.

“How are you?” Boost and Sinker both smacked my back as they stood beside me.

“Tired. Emotional. At one point, I was scared. Really scared.”

Sinker squeezed my shoulder, tapping his head against mine, “You gonna tell me who the father is?” He smirked as he glanced over to my face. One thing I could count on Sinker for was always trying to lighten up the mood, I gave him a quick jab into his side. 

“Come on, vod” Boost added, “She’s too pretty to be your daughter. Jirli’s sure. Your’s … ehhh”

“If you two would like for me to teach you why I was Commander of the 104th, and why I’m your ori’vod just say the word. We’re in a hospital so even if you were both on the verge of death, someone would deign to save you” I gritted my teeth clenching my fists by my side. 

Boost and Sinker chuckling, as they wrapped me up in their hug, “Relax vod” Sinker stated, “Yeah” Boost jeered, “We’re joking. Obviously, she’s your kid, she’s got that Wolffe scowl going” Boost motioned with his head.

We all looked at her, and sure enough there was a scowl on her tiny face, clear as day. I couldn’t love her more than I did at that moment. As much as sometimes my vode irritated me, I was glad to have them by my side, especially when my emotions were everywhere.

“Mr. Koon?” 

I turned to the voice, it was the same nurse from before the one who held my hand too tightly, “Yes?” I growled at her, wanting to keep her away from my family and me.

“Your wife is in her room, if you would like to see her.”

“Thank you” my voice was stern, and my face said it all showing I wasn’t particularly impressed by that woman. She didn’t leave simply stood there looking at me, “Is there something else?” Neither Boost nor Sinker dared to interject, they knew me well enough to know that this tone was reserved for those who had crossed a line.  

“Uh… no, sorry.” She quickly left, and I focused back on my little girl. 

“What’s her name?” Din asked as he took her tiny hand in his. 

“Well what if we wait till your buir wakes up and we can name her all together?”

Boba looked from his vod’ika to me, smiling, “Does that mean we can name her anything?”

“Within reason, Boba”

“Fine” he huffed out. I could just imagine what that boy was thinking of calling his younger sister. 

- - - - - - - - - - - 

JIRLI POV

My eyes felt heavy as I opened them, I felt the familiar talons of my father holding my hand, I turned my head to see Plo’buir sitting beside my bed, looking at me. 

“If you needed a vacation that badly, you could’ve just commed, my dear”

I chuckled, as I squeezed his hand, “Sorry dad, but I wanted to create as much drama and attention as possible.” I winced a little as I shifted, “How’s Wolffe and my lil’ girl?”

Plo’buir let out a chuckle, “Wolffe is very much becoming wrapped around the little girl’s finger. He won’t let her down, even Boba and Din have barely had any chance to hold her. I was amazed he let me hold her for as long as I did.” I squeezed his hand, grateful that he was there by my side. 

“When will I get to see her? I have even had a chance to see her …” the tears were beginning to well up, as I realized most had seen her before I had and I was her mother. 

“Oh ad’ika, it’s okay” Plo’buir wrapped his arms around me, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling me into a hug, “I’ll get Wolffe to bring her here now. I apologize greatly ad’ika, you should’ve been the one to see her first.”

I’m not even sure why I was crying so heavily into my father’s shoulder, it wasn’t logical, after all I was out after the surgery. What was Wolffe suppose to do, lock himself in a room until I woke up? If I ever woke up? The thought that I might never have seen my family again, never meeting my ad’ika, never have Wolffe’s arms wrapped around me … 

“Shhh, ad’ika. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

- - - - - - - - - - - 

“Hey your buir is still sleeping, trying and be a little quieter” I could hear Wolffe’s voice calling to me from my half dazed sleep, my eyelids felt incredibly heavy as I opened them to see him sitting there with our ad’ika in his arms, Boba and Din looking at her, making faces and joking, while trying to irritating each other at the same time. 

I couldn’t help smile at the scene in front of me, “Are you all behaving or are you driving the nurses up the wall?” I mumbled still half asleep. 

Wolffe locked eyes with me, his adoration and nerves brimming at the edge of his eyes along with his tears, he took in a deep shuddering breath as a smile graced his lips, “You’re awake.”  Before I could even respond Boba and Din rushed to my side throwing there arms around me, clinging for dear life. I squeezed them just as hard in return, placing a kiss on each of their heads.

“Alright boys” Wolffe stood heading over to us as the boys kept squeezing me, “Your buir and I need to talk, and she needs to feed your vod’ika. Go spend some time with our aliit that are patiently waiting outside and no doubt causing a havoc, knowing Sinker, Boost and Anakin.”

“They made it?” I smiled sleepily. 

Wolffe placed a kiss on my forehead, passing me our ad’ika in my arms, “Of course, they did.” He turned to the boys motioning with his head, “On your way boys”

“We’ll be back, buir” 

“Be good, vod’ika” They waved bye as the door slid close, Wolffe took the seat beside me, helping me sit up. 

He sat there watching the two of us, as a tear slipped down his cheek, I reached up wiping it with my thumb, cupping his cheek with my hand, he held it against his cheek turning my hand slightly placing a kiss on my palm, breathing in my scent. “You have no idea how much I wanted to break down the door and stay with you in the operating room. They had to have two security guards try and hold me back.”

I felt tears beginning to prick my eyes, as another tear slipped down his cheek, “What do you mean try?” I chuckled fighting back the tears. 

He chuckled wiping the tears from his face, and then wiping the one that had slipped through my defences. “If it wasn’t for Angie, a rather convincing nurse, I would’ve killed the two guards trying to hold me back.”

“I believe it, but who’s Angie?”

“One of the male nurses that was there during your C Section”

“Oh, I see. Thought you developed a crush on one of the nurses or something”

Wolffe simply shook his head, pressing another kiss into my palm, “How could I possibly look at anyone else, when you are my everything. Your intellect, your courage, your faith, the way you look after our kids, after me, after our family, every day I get to know you a little more, every day I fall in love with you more than the day before. How could I ever look at anyone, when you are my heart.”

I shifted my hand grabbing his shirt, and pulling him to my lips. I gave him a quick kiss, smiling as he rested his forehead against mine, “I love you, Wolffe.” Apparently, this was too much for our ad’ika as she started to fuss and cry. “I guess this little one, wants some food, huh?” I chuckled, placing a kiss on her tiny forehead, which calmed her down a little, she grabbed my medic gown, pulling herself closer. 

“Guess she’s really hungry”

“How long was I out for?”

“A few hours, one of the nurses said when we’re ready we can comm for the lactation consultant, if you are having difficulties feeding her.”

“Let me try first and see, Dr. Natuspri went over in detail what I needed to do.”

“Alright” It was a bit of a balancing act at first, thankfully, Wolffe helped me a little, but soon enough she was there in my arms, feeding.  “How does it feel?”

“Weird, but strangely wonderful at the same time. Although, I know for future kids I might not be able to feed them like this.” 

“How come?”

“Depends on if I’m producing enough milk, if I’m producing too much milk, if I have a blocked milk duct, I could also get an infection, or if the baby is tongue tied.”

“Tongue tied?”

“There’s a strip of skin that attached the tongue to the floor of the mouth, sometimes it can be shorter then usual, making it difficult for the baby to suck.”

“The more you know” Wolffe chuckled watching us, “You know, we still need to name her and soon, before Boba and Din get some weird name they want to call her.”

“Did they already offer up suggestions?” I chuckled as I looked at her feeding without a care in the world.

“Yup”

“Do I want to know?”

“Well I mean ulle’a-ka’oa’yr (booger-eater) has a nice wonderful ring, and b'udaye- asa'yr (fart-lover ) certainly has it’s appeal, maybe for our fourth one?”

I couldn’t help laughing at their ridiculousness, “Maker how I love those two, you’re right we need to find a better name before they get a hold of the registration sheet.”

“Agreed.”

“Do you have anything in mind?”

“Diribua (Panacea - a remedy for all difficulties or disease), we could call her Diri for short” 

“Diribua Koon, I like it”

“What about you?” Wolffe stroked her head, “Is there a name that you were thinking of?”

“Iu’a’a (Aurora -  Dawn), a long time ago Plo’buir once told me, the dawn marks the start of a new day, a new hope, a new possibility without limitations. She marks the beginning of a new era in our lives. What do you think?”

“Iu’a’a Koon”

“Iu’a’a Diribua Koon”

“Iu’a’a Diribua Koon” Wolffe nodded, placing a kiss on her tiny hand, “Pleasure to meet you ner bec’ika (my little pup)”

Whatever faced us, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, our entire family and extended family were all there for us, and for all of our kids. However many they would be.

PREVIOUS |  MOVING ON MASTER LIST  

Tag List:

@photowizard17​ @liadamerondjarin​ @badbatch-simp24​ @spicymcnuggies​ @lady-ren​ @firstofficerwiggles​ @darkangel4121​ @discofern​ @kavecika​ @monako-jinn-stories​ @ladykatakuri​ @avathebestx​ @theroguesully​ @furyhellfire66​ @carodealmeida​ @ciramaris​ @sprout-fics​ @twinkofthedink​ @dindjarin-mandalorian​ @ulchabhangorm​

#Moving On #Bec'ika #wolffe #wolfpack #Commander Wolffe #clone trooper wolffe #Wolffe Pack #jedi knight jirli stonn #jirli stonn #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #wolffe x oc #wolffe x you #commander wolffe x ofc #master plo koon #plo koon #master plo #clone trooper boost #Boost #clone sergeant sinker #sinker #clone trooper sinker #sergeant sinker #Anakin Skywalker #master Kenobi #Ben Kenobi #obi wan kenobi #general kenobi #kenobi #104th battalion

[wild-karrde]

Karrde's Fandom Friday Rec #2 (8/4/23)

My second rec this week has to go to @cyarbika for her fic Walk Me Home. I've written Bee entire book reports about how good this fic is, but words honestly fail me. Bee has created a cast of original characters that are so wonderful and rich that they fit perfectly in with canon while also being immensely relatable. The way she writes Wolffe is absolute perfection, and I already loved Cherise based on NSA (I know she wasn't technically Cherise then, but she already felt like a fully-flushed out character even then), but I have fallen even more in love with her with every chapter of WMH. Bee has written such a devastatingly beautiful story about love, perseverance, and finding your way in a galaxy rocked by tragedy, and I cannot recommend it enough, even for those that aren't necessarily Star Wars fans. I could go on and on (and have done so in Bee's comments lol), but I just gotta say that everyone should check it out for themselves.

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

#FANDOM FRIDAY #creator appreciation #fic rec #fanfiction #fan fic #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #nsft #lemon #lemony lemon #commander wolffe #OC Cherise #commander wolffe x oc #commander wolffe x original female character #commander wolffe x ofc #wolffeheart

[teletraan-meets-jarvis]

Pieces - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

AO3 Link

Pairing: Commander Wolffe/OC Issa Straun

Warnings: Swearing, drinking.

Word Count - 9.2k

A/N: ALRIGHT NERDS! I'M BACK HAHAHAHA.

After what feels like the world's longest hiatus, my personal life is back on track and this fic is ticking over once again. To apologise for my absence may I present a 9k chapter that I spent far too long agonising over. Biggest of thank yous to @wild-karrde - Karrde my friend, you are the reason this fic continues to live, thank you for all your help, advice, and for battling through my lack of commas <3, one day I will learn 😁.

Masterlist | Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

Steam clouded Issa’s lenses as she wrapped her thin hands around the mug of tea before her, lifting the red liquid to her lips. The Jedi took a sip and gave a content sigh as the warm drink did its work of fighting off the cool from the ship’s air supply. 

It was her first moment of peace in little over a month she realised. The fighting on Antar 4 had been relentless, and the only reason for the battalion’s sudden respite was the fact that their initial campaign had been a success. They’d managed to push the Separatists out of the main city, and established a secure perimeter to keep them out, which gave Antar 4’s elected government the chance to begin their defence efforts against the local terrorists. There were a few moments where things had been tight and times when casualties had been higher than anticipated, but overall, their success had been noted by the Jedi Council and higher ups in the GAR.

That recognition is what led them to this point, being aboard the Triumphant and heading back to Coruscant. It seemed now that the 104th had proven themselves, Issa, her master and the battalion were being reassigned to a more pressing fight in the war. 

This morning they’d welcomed the 182nd Legion and their general, Master Kolar. They spent a few hours bringing them up to speed on their surroundings before beginning the process of packing up and shipping out. It’d been a long day, but the troops were looking forward to sleeping in their own bunks again on the Venator. 

As was she.

Fighting on the frontlines of a war was something Issa had truly had to experience in order to gain some semblance of understanding of what it would be like. Words and stories didn’t hold a candle to the real thing. It’d been grinding, dirty, and exhausting to the bone. The fear and uncertainty she felt each time she got a chance to close her eyes pushed rest and ease far from her mind. 

It had been an odd feeling, not being able to slow her mind for such an extended period of time. Everything had felt thrown together and reactive, no matter how long they’d spent hunched over a holotable, strategising into the early hours of the morning. The Pantoran also didn't remember a time when she’d been among other people’s company for so long, having spent years in the calm and steady presence of only Master Plo on their extended research missions. She’d always found solace on her own, in her own safe spaces where she could unwind. But out there, she’d had no escape, especially with every sense being pushed to the extremes. It’d been overwhelming to say the least.

But, in spite of it all, she and a majority of their men survived.

We’re still here.

Since they’d returned to the Triumphant, Plo had given her the green light to retreat to her quarters to take stock of herself and what they’d all been through together the past month, while still fulfilling her new command duties but from a distance. It’d been a couple of days since she’d seen anyone really, but it had helped, so she was thankful for her Master’s understanding as always.

Having gotten used to sleeping for short bursts while on the frontlines, Issa was struggling to readjust back to a normal sleeping pattern. She’d spent a good hour that night tossing and turning in her bunk before giving up and hunkering down in the mess hall with a cup of tea and a few datapads. 

Might as well use the time to get some new scenery and do some work.

As another smooth sip of tea warmed her throat, it hit Issa that it’d been nearly a year since the last time she’d had this particular blend, and for a moment she was transported back in time. She was back in Obi-Wan’s quarters at the temple with him and one of her closest friends, Anakin. The Jedi Master was a connoisseur of teas from around the galaxy, always trying to stop off and pick up different recipes while away on missions. He’d been particularly excited about the one he’d finally managed to source from a small village on Karlinus. The three of them sat in his sparse room while the steam of freshly boiled water drifted through the small space, quietly chatting and joking amongst themselves. She remembered Anakin’s face behind his Master’s back as he grimaced at the drink’s sweet taste, sticking his tongue out dramatically in a way he knew would have Issa chuckling. He'd always been one who sought out the more bitter flavours in life, like the ten cups of caf he drank each day. 

With a knowing smile as he turned back around to the pair, Obi-Wan shook his head as he caught the way Anakin tried to hide his reaction from him. “I feel as though your palate might be a lost cause, my Padawan.”

The Pantoran smiled, shaking her head in amusement at the memory of Anakin’s failed antics. Issa couldn’t believe that the young Jedi she’d spent half her life training alongside had recently been promoted to the rank of Knight, making history as one of the youngest in the Order aged just nineteen. She was truly proud of her friend. It seemed he was truly destined for greatness, and Issa could think of no one more deserving. I’ll have to congratulate Obi-Wan on finally being free of his Padawan too. 

As the feeling of nostalgia settled in warmly within her chest, Issa placed down her cup and grabbed her abandoned stylus so she could continue her notes on Antar 4. She’d been studying a battle plan when the door to the mess swished open. Issa noticed someone paused in the doorway for a moment before entering the room with a huff. “What are you doing up?” the new entrant questioned.

“Hello to you too, Wolffe,” Issa replied, not lifting her eyes from the work before her. “I’m going over those strategies we drew up with Book and Master Plo. I want to make sure I know them inside and out for the briefing on Coruscant.”

“Well you’re not going to be of any use to us half dead on your feet. You should get some sleep.”

“Could say the same to you, Commander. What are you doing up?”

Wolffe just grunted at her before making his way over to the caf machine and pouring himself a strong cup. Still maintaining his silence, he leaned back against the counter and stared down into the dark liquid before him. Issa chanced a moment to look her commander over. He was clad in his black body glove he usually wore under his armour, and his eyes were heavy with the beginnings of dark circles blooming beneath them. Her eyes traced up to his hair, which was slightly mussed, and his frown was even more downturned than usual, which was really saying something. 

Wolffe had something on his mind, that much was obvious. Though it was also kyber clear that he didn’t come in here to talk. In fact, he was surprised to have seen her, which meant he’d likely been looking for some solitude.

Do I check on him anyway? Issa asked herself. She knew she would likely be met with a biting response demanding she mind her own business, but as her eyes flitted over to Wolffe once more, his sombre expression gave her the final push of concern she needed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she offered quietly, averting her eyes so that they remained firmly on the datapads before her so as to not put him off with any unwanted attention. Issa and Wolffe weren’t exactly close. The clone commander was rather rough around the edges, and they were still finding their feet with whatever working relationship they were forging, which added a nice layer of uncertainty to many interactions between them. 

“No,” Wolffe grumbled. Though he didn’t say anything else, which was more positive than Issa was expecting. 

“Okay.” 

Maker, this is awkward.

With a small nod, Issa pushed her frames higher up her nose and returned to her work while Wolffe began sipping at his hot caf. A good few minutes went by, and they settled into a rocky silence while Issa lost herself in strategies and plans. She became so engrossed in the data before her that when Wolffe spoke, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“We lost some good men in that last battle.” Wolffe’s voice wasn’t loud. In fact, it could probably be called a whisper, but that didn’t stop it from feeling like he’d shouted into the quiet room. 

Issa knew her eyes had widened in shock, confused and relieved that Wolffe was actually talking about what was bothering him. She peered up at him through her lenses and settled the datapads away from her, giving the commander her full attention. “We did. Wrexler, Vick, Kip, Dino and Zander were all great guys.”

Now it was Wolffe’s turn to look shocked. “You remember all their names?”

“Of course. Master Plo and I said we’d learn everyone’s names that first day we all met. We don’t say things we don’t mean. You’re people Wolffe, not droids. The lives we lose aren’t so easily swept away for us either you know.” Wolffe grunted again and fell silent, staring back into the mug in his hand as if it held the answers to whatever questions he was torturing himself with. 

Feeling brave and maybe stupid, Issa took a steadying breath before choosing her next words carefully. “Do you… blame yourself?”

Wolffe’s eyes shot up to meet hers, his amber irises burning with something she couldn’t pinpoint, making Issa swallow. Shit, okay too far. Feeling her face flush with embarrassment, she held her hands up in an apologetic manner. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep.” Great, that’ll set us back nicely. Smooth Straun.

As Issa mentally kicked herself, she noticed that something in her reaction to his heated gaze had caused Wolffe’s frustration at her to cool. His glare softened, and he averted his eyes to stare at the wall to his side as if it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the galaxy while bouncing his leg ever so slightly. 

“Yes,” he eventually replied, biting the word out as if it went against everything in him to utter it. It took Issa a moment to realise he was responding to her question. So he does blame himself. Wolffe continued. “I’m their Commander, my choices lead to their deaths. I’m the person who's supposed to protect them.”

“That’s not your job alone, Wolffe. If that’s your logic, Plo and I are equally as to blame as you.”

“It’s different.”

“How so?” she asked. Her question wasn’t fuelled by impatience or frustration at Wolffe’s mindset but by genuine curiosity. Issa wanted to understand exactly the reason why he was putting this responsibility solely on his shoulders.

“Because you’re not one of us,” he snapped, eyes burning brightly once more. His harsh tone appeared to be an accident as a sliver of regret slipped onto his features while he flexed his jaw. 

Issa gave him a soft smile. “It’s okay, I know what you mean. You don’t have to explain yourself. I'm not offended.” Every soldier lost is another member of his family gone, another face identical to his that was taken too soon. “It’s personal for you, I understand.”

Wolffe scoffed and lifted a hand to rub at his jawline, his fingers scraping across the rough, growing stubble there. “I don’t need a lecture on the losses of war, just so you know.”

Issa’s smile grew. “I wasn’t planning on one. I was just going to say that should you ever want to share that burden, Master Plo and I are carrying it as well, maybe in a different way, but we are. We’re here to support you, Wolffe, as much as you are us.” He didn’t have a reply to that, but Issa was happy that she’d been heard. She chanced a look down at the chrono on one of the datapads and realised it was very early in the morning.

“Hey, since we’re both up, fancy a spar? Might help tire you out.”

Wolffe took another sip of his drink with a raised eyebrow. “A spar?”

“What? Don’t think you can handle a Jedi?” Issa teased, which earned her one of Wolffe’s signature eye rolls, slow and exaggerated, and she couldn’t help but chuckle softly at his dramatics.

“Fine. But I'm not explaining to the general why his padawan’s pride is in pieces tomorrow.”

“Understood.”

The pair made their way to the training room. The open space was cast in shadow until the sensors detected their presence and triggered the lights to roll on. In the centre of the hangar was a blue mat, which Issa stepped onto gently. The plastic covering was cool beneath her feet as she stretched her arms above her head, sighing as some of the bones in her back popped. Kriff, I’ve been sitting down for too long. Across from her, Wolffe shook his limbs out and rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

“What sort of spar did you have in mind?” he questioned as he pulled an arm behind his back, stretching the Republic cog in the middle of his shirt even further across his broad chest.

Issa shrugged. “You’re my military teacher. I thought you could decide.”

“Fine. Hand-to-hand it is. You know the rules?” Issa shook her head and he continued. “Mostly anything goes, though no career-ending hits, and if your opponent taps three times you let go and the match is over. Clear?”

“As transparisteel.” At her confirmation, Wolffe locked eyes with her and met her in the middle of the mat. The area they were fighting on was rather large; the hangar the mat sat in was designed to house multiple gunships, and the mat itself was almost the size of one. Issa took a steadying breath as she tracked the strong commander in front of her. 

“Sure you wanna do this Straun?” Waves of confidence rolled off of the clone as he stepped closer.

“I’m not going to break.”

“Alright.” The word had barely left his lips before he darted forward with a swing of his right fist. Issa managed to duck just in time to miss Wolffe’s punch, but her confusion left her open, which Wolffe utilised by delivering a swift kick to her ribs, winding Issa and forcing her back a few paces. 

For someone so bulky, I thought he’d move a hells of a lot slower than that. Unfortunately the universe wasn’t that kind. It seemed the commander had plenty of training on keeping his speed up in a fight. The Pantoran heaved a few ragged breaths before she willed her breathing back under control. 

“Sure you want to carry on?” The question was genuine, but the slight upturn on the corner of his lips made Issa bristle.

“Only just getting started, Wolffe.” 

They traded blows back and forth fairly evenly from then on, Issa decidedly not underestimating her commander any further. She might not have had military training, but the ways of the Force lended well to combat, and her years at the temple hadn’t all been studying and katas. She’d trained on how to fight without her weapon just as much as she had with it. It was just a skill she hadn’t had to call upon in a real world scenario in a while. As she analysed Wolffe’s movements and opportunities for attack, her training slowly came trickling back on how she could lean on the Force to make her movements more swift, her attacks hit harder, her defensive positions more fortified. 

By the time they were bone-tired and sweaty from their fight, Issa had managed to get a few good hits in on the clone commander, including a kick to his cheek that left the skin bright red. Overall, Wolffe had bested her more times and was the clear winner of the fight, but it was progress, both in her training to become a better commander and also in her relationship with Wolffe. This had been the longest the two of them had been left unsupervised, and they were both still talking to each other, which Issa felt was a great victory. 

“Not bad, Straun, though you’re thinking too much. I can tell you were holding back at times. You don’t trust yourself. You’ve got to get more comfortable with your abilities if you want to throw your all into a fight.”

“Right.”

“We’ll try again when we stop off on Coruscant, bring a few of the men in so I can point some things out to you.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Wolffe.” The commander nodded at her and the room descended into silence until an almighty yawn tore its way through Issa before she could stop herself. She met Wolffe’s gaze, a look of exasperated confusion conveyed through his raised eyebrow as she gave a sheepish chuckle. 

He huffed at her with a shake of his head. “Let’s go back to the barracks.” 

The pair of them walked in silence through the halls of the Triumphant, passing the odd pair of patrols on their way who always stopped to salute their two commanders. Finally they arrived at their neighbouring rooms and bid each other goodnight before Issa collapsed onto her bunk and drifted immediately off to a dreamless sleep.

—

The next day the 104th arrived on Coruscant. Issa, Plo, Wolffe and Admiral Coburn had been holed up in a meeting room for an in-person debrief of the situation on Antar 4. They’d spent hours divulging everything including their findings on the enemy, loss ratios and any future battle plans they had drawn up which could be passed onto the 182nd, who would be taking over the protection of the Republic-aligned moon. 

It’d been a long day, but Issa felt confident that she’d been able to contribute to the meeting where appropriate rather than just listening and learning. They’d also been told that they’d be heading to the Outer Rim to Scariff. Apparently the Separatists were planning to build a factory on the planet and were shipping in large portions of materials for the development. The 104th’s job would be to disrupt the delivery of the materials and take out as many of the enemy forces as they could. 

Since landing on Antar 4, it felt as though everything had been non-stop for the battalion. They’d barely had a moment's respite in the month they’d been fighting, and it was starting to show among the troops. Thankfully, Plo had convinced the council to extend their layover in the Republic’s capital for an extra couple days, giving the full squad some well-earned downtime. 

The news of their first night off had sent shockwaves of celebration through the ranks of the 104th, which warmed Issa’s heart. They’d fought hard in tough terrain and deserved the time to themselves to revel in their victory and remember the brothers they’d lost. What had sweetened the deal even more for the soldiers was that the Republic had created a bar dedicated to the clones right here on Coruscant where they could drink for free and enjoy their downtime in peace amongst their brothers. 

The Wolfpack were truly overjoyed with the news of a night partying and had even kindly extended the invite to their two Jedi to join them. However, Plo and Issa decided that the troopers deserved a real night off, away from their natborn commanding officers, as Issa had learned they’d been called.

At the GAR headquarters, Issa was chatting pleasantly with Admiral Coburn as they exited the meeting room, the pair trailing behind Master Plo and Wolffe. The padawan watched as the two men in front of her talked amongst themselves. It was clear to see in Wolffe’s presence how he respected his general, and while Issa was on the road to earning that respect herself, it warmed her to know that Plo had the same effect on other people as he had on her. From her few conversations with Wolffe over the past couple months, Issa had been gaining snippets on Wolffe’s views and the weight of responsibility for his brother’s safety that he shouldered, and it was clear that his trust was rarely given out. Issa was glad he at least had someone of seniority who he could truly put his faith into beyond the respectful level of courtesy he automatically gave as clone commander.

Admiral Coburn cleared his throat politely, drawing the small group to a stop. “Padawan Straun, Master Plo, Commander Wolffe, I’m afraid I will have to bid you a farewell here. Please enjoy the rest of your shore leave and I look forward to our first mission together in a few days.” 

“Thank you Admiral, we shall see you soon,” Plo replied, nodding in goodbye as the naval officer turned on his heel and down an adjacent hallway, his shiny black boots clacking on the metallic flooring as he walked away. 

“Issa, I believe we should head back to the temple.”

“Yes of cour-'' Issa was cut off by her comm chirping, the light flashing up at her from her vambrace. Her forehead creased as she clicked the button on the device. “This is Commander Straun.”

“Sir, it’s Sinker. We were hoping you could come down to the barracks with Commander Wolffe after your meeting.”

“Do I dare ask why?”

“Probably best you didn’t.” Issa could practically hear Sinker’s smirk on the other end of the line, picturing his silver eyes sparkling in mischief, likely with Boost and TP hanging over his shoulders. 

“Alright, we’re finished now so we’ll head down.”

“Well it appears you have other business,” Plo suggested fondly. “Enjoy your evening Commanders.”

Issa’s eyebrows knitted together. “I’ll be back at the temple after this, Master,” she assured. 

The Kel Dor said nothing as he inclined his head at the both of them and began walking towards the exit, leaving Issa perplexed. She chanced a look at Wolffe to see if he could elaborate on what had just transpired. Unfortunately all she received was a restrained eye roll before he silently led the way to the turbo lift, leaving her to trail after him.

During the battalion’s stay on Coruscant, their troopers were given bunks at the Guard’s sleeping quarters. The lower levels beneath the HQ practically acted as a clone hotel; there were levels upon levels of rooms for any visiting soldiers to use alongside the resident red and white troopers.

As the lift skid to a halt, the pair stepped out and made their way to where the 104th were staying. 

—-------

The slow and deliberate thump of footsteps sounded. Followed by the scrape of something metallic being dragged across the floor.

The man held his breath, hands clamped over his mouth to prevent any sounds from escaping him as the attackers' steps sounded ever closer.

Suddenly all noises came to a halt, and the man could do nothing but wait… Until–

“Booooook, come on it’s going to be morning by the time you put that ‘pad down, vod,” Boost whined as he clipped his now polished vambrace back into place.

The strategist locked his datapad reluctantly and sighed. His perfectly crafted world for his story in his mind had now officially been shattered at the interruption. Can’t get a minute's peace in this place. A heavy weight fell onto the mattress next to him, causing the clone to bounce slightly.

“Yeah Bookworm, we want some attention for a change,” Two-Pint teased, wrapping his arm around his brother’s shoulder and yanking him into his side for a crushing hug.

Book scowled as he fought the stronger man for his freedom, his copper hair ending up more than a little ruffled as he broke away with a half-hearted frown. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

The heavy gunner grinned. “I do.” 

“Come on short-ass, be nice,” Boost challenged with a mischievous smirk, which only widened at Two-Pint’s pout at his own nickname. Serves him right, Book thought smugly.

“Alright alright, reign it in you lot,” Wolffe chided as he made his presence known with a humoured Commander Straun standing at his side.

“Commanders! Perfect timing,” Sinker called out pleasantly as he pulled his gloves on.

With one last ruffle of Book’s hair, TP and Boost moved away to find their boots. The strategist carded a hand through his red curls to try and tame them while his Jedi Commander walked over to take TP’s spot at his side.

The Pantoran bumped his shoulder lightly with her own and gave him a small smile. “Whatcha reading?”

“Ah, it’s nothing, just a thriller novel.” He tried not to sound too deflated, but he couldn’t help it. He loved reading, but moments of jabs with his brothers served to remind him that he was a bit of an outlier in their group. He wasn’t crazy about weapons like TP and Cloud, or strong like Boost and Sinker. Instead he favoured learning and reading as his method of developing his skills as a soldier. Book knew his squad didn’t mean anything by their teasing; it was their way of showing that they cared, but even still, it did a good job of highlighting just how different he was sometimes.

Of course, the Jedi next to him was somehow able to figure all this out without him even having to utter a word. With a gentle look in her eyes behind her lenses, she placed a blue hand at his shoulder bell. “You know, as much as the ‘Pack love to wind you up, your interests are what make you you Book. Your brothers would never want you to change or be ashamed of them. I hope you know that.”

“Yeah… I know.” He gave a small smile of thanks. Because he did know. But it was nice to have the reminder every now and then he supposed. 

Seemingly content that she’d eased his worries, the Jedi looked up at the rest of the group. Their previously battle-worn armour had been cleaned and polished, not the the point of shininess as each scrape and scuff ingrained in the plastoid was a sign of each battle survived, but clean enough to not be caked with the mud and blood of their last campaign.

“So Sinker, you called?” Issa questioned as she caught the sergeant’s eye.

“Yeah, we’re going out sir, and you’re coming with.”

Still sitting next to Book, Issa sighed. “Guys we went over this-”

“Yeah but we’ve decided to overrule you, so there you have it,” Boost explained, leaving no room for argument.

“We want you to come along, Commander. It’ll be fun. You’re one of us anyway. Your insides were christened with TP’s brew,” Cloud added with a soft smile.

Smirking, Issa replied. “Oh so there is a reward for suffering through that.”

The heavy gunner in question somehow managed to pout even harder, which given his intimidating exterior, only served to make the room chuckle. “Hey! Don’t you all come crying to me when you want a night to unwind.”

“We’re kidding ‘Pint.” Sinker huffed as he threw his arm around his shorter brother’s shoulders and pulled him into a loose headlock. 

Eventually the Wolfpack stopped rough housing and were ready to paint the town red, as it were. 

—---

79’s was a beacon of life. Neon boards decorated the walls while the sound of laughter and chatter wove through the notes of the heavy bass music reverberating through the venue. The dance floor was already packed, clones and natborns alike dancing their troubles away, connecting with new souls as their inhibitions faded and bodies moved to the beat. At the bar, a group of pilots were sharing a round of shots while a squad of commandos in their heavy duty armour took quiet sanctuary in a booth in the corner, flirting with the beings who’d captured their attention. 

Issa couldn’t quite believe that the Republic was providing such a normal place for the troopers to unwind. I suppose it’s the least they can do. After all, they are heroes fighting for the civilians across the galaxy, protecting their way of life.

As the Wolfpack made their way towards an empty table, Issa noticed a few of the patrons whispering as they passed. While most of 79’s was full of plain white armour, she supposed a maroon, wolf-stylised commander and Pantoran Jedi were a bit of a giveaway as to which battalion they were. It seemed their success on Antar 4 had been passed through the other ranks. 

Next to her, Boost nudged her with his elbow, smirking. “How’s it feel to be famous, Commander?”

“Famous is a bit of a stretch.” Issa rolled her eyes at the sergeant who chuckled next to her.

“I don’t think that’ll be our last big win, so you best start getting used to it.”

Once the group had settled in their spot, Issa had offered to get the troopers their first round of drinks, allowing them to relax for a moment while she navigated the sea of bodies to reach the bar. After finally clearing a space for herself to lean forwards, the Pantoran drummed her fingers on the neon surface as she waited to be served. She was minding her own business until the being next to her gave her a nudge, knocking the Jedi off balance. Frustrated at the person’s lack of awareness, she spun around to confront them. That was her plan at least, but unfortunately the person she came face to face to made her pause, her fiery words dying on her tongue.

“Quin? What are you doing here?” Issa breathed. 

There he was, Quinlan Vos, Jedi Master and Shadow, back from his extended mission like he hadn’t just disappeared for a year without a word. It’d been a while, but it appeared his flare for the dramatic hadn’t changed.

“Issa! I was supposed to meet Aayla but she got stuck doing General things, so I stayed for the free booze and pleasant scenery. Fancy seeing you here.” His honesty and cheeky smile were so familiar that it nearly made her heart ache. It’d been too long since she’d last had a chance to spend time with her friend and despite all of his bravado, Issa had missed him dearly. He looked well, a few new scars littered his bare upper arms and his dreadlocks had grown, extending to his jawline, but he was in one piece. A weight the Pantoran didn’t know she had been carrying suddenly lightened, and she smiled fondly at the Kiffar’s antics.

“The drinks aren’t free for you, you know,” she chided.

“Ah but surely they’ll have to take pity on a poor religious figure like me. Remember young Padawan, Jedi can have no attachments, which means no material items, which means no credits to buy those items, which means free watered-down Corellian ale,” Vos explained while lifting his drink in the air in a ‘cheers’ motion before taking a satisfied sip.

“That’s not how that works, and you’re incorrigible.”

“Thank you,” Quin replied with a beaming smile of pride.

Without another word, Issa launched herself at the man, locking her arms tightly around his neck and catching him by surprise. “I’m glad you’re home safe.”

Issa felt it as Quinlan relaxed in her hold and wrapped his own glove-clad arms around her middle, smiling into her shoulder. “Missed you too, kid.”

Issa was finally able to place her order and while she waited, she spent the time catching up with the man she’d come to look up to as a brother. His mission had been a success, as they always were, and he managed to take down a critical drug ring in the outskirts of the Mid-Rim. 

Smiling with pride, Issa nudged the man beside her. “Sounds like another job well done.”

“Yeah, it went about as well as the Council would allow.” The end of his sentence was slightly muffled as he lifted his glass to his lips, but Issa heard him all the same.

She took a moment, trying to unpick the meaning hidden in Quin’s words. “The Council? I thought you were heading this as a Shadow?”

“Let’s just say if it was up to me, I’d still be out there.”

“Why?” Issa’s brows were furrowed as she tried to navigate Quinlan’s vague hints.

The Shadow Jedi seemed to have noticed her questioning look and snapped out of his mood with a heavy sigh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring the mood down. Let’s talk about something else. How’s the war going, Commander?”

His sudden change of topics perplexed Issa. Whatever Vos found at the end of his assignment had him on edge, and seemed to be straining his already tenuous relationship with some members of the council. Not wanting to spark a debate about the politics of the Order at that moment, Issa let him off the hook for now and launched into her experiences of leading an army for the past month.

“You’ll have to come meet the Wolfpack. They’ve heard all about you.”

“All flattering things I presume.” Just as Issa went to reply, a light began blinking on Quin’s forearm, pulling his attention. “Ah I better get this, but I’ll see you over there in a bit.”

While Vos trudged through the many bodies to an exit, a striking Mirialan placed a tray of drinks in front of her, which Issa took with a quick ‘thank you’ to the bartender before using all her concentration to avoid spilling the ale as she finally reached the 104th’s table for the evening. 

Now that everyone had a drink in hand, the Pantoran allowed herself the chance to relax, sliding into the spot Sinker had made for her at the edge of the booth, facing Wolffe across the other side of the table. His permanent frown was unsurprisingly still in place, but it was slightly softer than usual which was nice to see. This may be as relaxed as I'll ever see him.

After a round of ‘cheers’ and the first few sips of their drinks, they asked about Quin after having seen the two of them during their reunion.

“Do all Jedi make fashion choices alarmingly unsuitable for battlefields?” Wolffe cut in sarcastically, making Issa bark out a laugh she wasn’t expecting, nearly choking on her drink. 

“Actually if Quin had his way, he would probably rather have a lot more of himself on display, but he needs things like the gloves he wears to prevent accidental use of his Psychometry. It’s a power that lets him see impressions or events tied to an object based on who’s touched or used it previously. As you can imagine, that can get quite invasive quite quickly.”

“Woah, can you do that?”

“Unfortunately not. Jedi all have similar basic skill sets, the standard things we’re taught at the temple, but some of us excel further in some areas or are born with special abilities. Quin was born with Psychometry. It’s a common gift among Kiffars, and it runs in his family. He’s grown incredibly skilled in it, but it can be quite overwhelming at times, hence the gloves. While psychometry is one example, some Jedi have been known to have deep connections with animals, plants, space matter and even technology, making them easier to read or utilise with the Force.”

“Have you got a fancy skill, sir?”

“I’ve always been quite good at illusions. In fact it’ll probably start to come in handy during the war so I’ve been working with Master Plo on pushing my skills a bit quicker than we normally would.”

Wolffe raised a suspicious eyebrow. “What do you mean by illusions?”

“Care to be a volunteer and find out?” At Issa’s challenge and smirk, Wolffe scoffed. 

“Fine.” He was clearly intrigued but trying his damndest not to show it. The Jedi humoured him and took his feigned indifference as consent for her demonstration.

Issa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Using all her concentration, she manipulated the molecules around her using the Force, picturing as each one shifted and changed to mimic the image she set in her mind. As she let the air out of her lungs, she allowed her eyes to flutter open once more and took in the clones surrounding her.

“No way.”

Issa spared a look down at herself, and sure enough, she was clad in white and maroon plastoid, the skin of her hands no longer blue, but a beautiful tan. 

“That’s creepy, two Wolffes is the stuff of nightmares, turn it off!” Two-Pint squealed as he tried to hide behind Book, who rolled his eyes at the heavy gunner.

Vos chose that moment to slide into the Wolfpack’s booth, smirking and elbowing Issa in her side, breaking her concentration and shattering the illusion. “I see you’re doing your-” Quin paused to do a little waggle of his fingers, “-magic show.”

Huffing, Issa shoved the Kiffar back, making him chuckle and throw an arm around her shoulder. “Yeah well we can’t all read emotions like you. Gotta find my ways to be useful somehow.”

Quin then infuriatingly chose that moment to ruffle her hair, making her bristle slightly in annoyance as her troopers chuckled, Wolffe notably was taking great joy in her embarrassment at the hands of the Shadow as he smirked slightly behind his glass. 

“When I tell you guys that your commander got us into some trouble over the years at the temple using those little tricks of hers.”

“Ha! I knew I liked you sir!” Two-Pint exclaimed with a beaming grin.

Soon introductions were made, and the rest of the evening was spent in pleasant comradery with the Wolfpack and Vos. Issa realised now that she’d been worried about nothing. Spending an evening with her troopers hadn’t seemed to have stopped them from being able to enjoy themselves and relax, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy spending her free time hanging out with them. They were a fun group; even Wolffe had gradually loosened up ever so slightly as the night dragged on, matching the boisterous energy of his brothers around him as they joked and wound each other up. 

It’s nice to see.

—----

Much to Book’s dismay, the Wolfpack and two Jedi had eventually gravitated to the dance floor as the alcohol in their system began to do its work. The strategist had cut himself off a few drinks prior to that, not interested in losing control of himself that evening. Subtly, Book had managed to excuse himself from his dancing battalion, giving him the chance to escape to the sanctuary of the bar where he could take a moment to himself. He even managed to snag an empty stool, pulling himself up and trying to catch a glimpse of one of the bartenders so he could place his order. Unfortunately, it was still fairly busy, so he was left to his own devices for a moment. To keep himself occupied, he spent his time eyeing up the liquor on the back shelf of the bar and trying to guess if he could name each luminous bottle. He’d definitely read up on enough world exports by now to be able to identify most of them, so he began cataloguing each spirit quietly to himself as he waited.

For not the first time that day, the peace in his mind was once again shattered, but instead of the cause being his squad, it was the result of a loud crash of a server droid clattering into one of the beer taps. Every being in the vicinity scattered in fear of being drenched as the tap went up in a dramatic fountain display, leaving the now damp Mirialan bartender to deal with the situation.

“Oh shit oh shit oh shit.” The bartender cursed as the battered ale tap continued to spew everywhere despite them attempting to use their hands to stop the spray. Unfortunately, the tactic only served to push the liquid to the floor as opposed to up in the air.

Looking around and noticing that no one was coming to help, Book pushed off of his stool and walked over to the scene.

“Excuse me, do you-”

“Look I’ll serve you in a sec, can’t you see i’m a bit busy?” the Mirialan snapped, huffing a breath to try and move their damp claret fringe from where it had fallen across their face. The sheer look of concentration as they attempted to fix their predicament caused the black geometric facial tattoos trailing down the centre of their forehead to crease between their brows. Book knew it wasn’t the time or place, but he dared to think that the bartender looked rather cute while flustered. 

No, that is not helpful right now. Wise up, Trooper. Book cleared his throat, gearing himself up to try again. “Um, sorry, I was just going to offer some assistance. Your method of stopping the leak isn’t the most efficient. I’m happy to help.”

Those bright green eyes snapped up to his face, and he froze under the sharp gaze. Oh Maker I’ve stuck my foot in it haven’t I?

After a few dragging seconds, they finally relented, nodding behind them towards a cupboard. “Fine, there’s a wrench in there. Once you’re back we can get this sealed off and I’ll start cleaning up this mess.”

Book nodded and set about getting the tool as suggested. He ended up shoulder-to-shoulder with the bartender as he tried to get the pump to seal off while they protected his face from being sprayed with alcohol. 

It seemed they made a rather good team as after a few seconds of fiddling, Book managed to stop the flow, making the Mirialan sag in relief as they were finally free to move once again. “Thank the Maker for that… and you, I guess. What’s your name, Trooper?”

“Oh, uh Book, and you are…”

“Jae, Jae Tevv.” They reached a soaked hand out towards him before realising what they’d done and retracting with a nervous chuckle. “So Book, huh? How’d you manage to end up with a name like that?”

“It’s unfortunately very simple. I always had my head in a book while growing up on Kamino.”

“I suppose I should’ve guessed. What kind of books? I’m always looking for some new things to add to my reading list.” Suddenly, Book found himself engaged in the most wonderful conversation about literature as the two of them fell into the flow of working as a team to fix the mess from the broken tap. Jae was incredibly well-read, enjoying a variety of genres that they spoke about with a deep passion. Book was pretty sure he had a dopey smile on his face, but Jae’s enthusiasm was infectious, so who could blame him? He could listen to them talk for hours, their hands gesturing wildly, eyes alight with excitement as they relieved one of their favourite romance novels, clearly excited to finally be able to discuss the story with another reader.

All too soon, the mess was cleaned and Book found himself running out of machinery behind the bar that he could tinker with to prolong their conversation. With a sigh, he slid the wrench back into the borrowed tool box and extended a hand to Jae to help them back to their feet from where they were scrubbing the floor.

“Thank you, Book. Both for the help and the conversation. I think I've finally met my reading match,” Jae said with a kind smile. “Now that the tap’s working again, can I buy you a drink as a thank you, something a bit more upmarket than that cheap beer the Republic is feeding you boys?”

“Ah there’s no need to thank me. Plus I best stop with the drinks now. Someone has to make sure my battalion gets home in one piece, and something tells me it won’t be my commanders.” Book spared a pointed look at his two superiors. Issa was on the dance floor with General Vos, Two-Pint, Sinker, Cloud and Boost, giggling and dancing without a care in the world, her drink sloshing dangerously close to the edges of her cup. Wolffe was seated a few tables away with one human and one Zabrak woman hanging off each arm as the three of them sank a shot each before he sat back and let the two shower him with attention. Jae followed his eyes and chuckled warmly.

“Well… If not a drink, how about dinner?” Their deep emerald eyes sparkled with the offer, making Book swallow nervously as his stomach fluttered. When did my collar get so tight?

“Uh, dinner?” he choked out. 

“Yeah, dinner. Give you a chance to eat something that isn’t rations maybe. My treat, I can cook us up something.”

Book felt his face flush bright red as he averted his eyes. “Dinner. Right… yes. Dinner is good. Let’s… let’s do that.”

Jae beamed at him before grabbing his datapad out of his hands and tapping something into the notes. “Great, well, here’s my comm frequency. Drop me a message next time you’re planet-side, or if you have any more books you’d like to recommend in the meantime.”

“Yes… I'll definitely do that. Thank you.”

“No, thank you, Book.” And just when Book thought he couldn’t get anymore flustered, Jae leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. That was the moment Book’s brain finally short-circuited. “Stay safe out there, I'm holding you to that dinner.” 

Jae disappeared across the bar, set on a mission to serve the backed-up requests of orders, leaving Book standing there like a tooka in the headlights as his hand lifted up to ghost over his cheek where Jae had kissed him. 

—

It was 0300 by the time Book decided to corral his brothers, Jedi, and apparently General Vos. The Wolfpack and friends collectively stumbled out of the front of 79’s, giggling amongst themselves as TP told another Maker-awful joke.

As the laughter died down, Issa strolled up next to Book and swung an arm over his shoulder. Her dark eyes were sparkling with mischief, and the strategist shook his head in anticipation. “Soooo Book, where did you run off too?”

To his right, Sinker crept up and also threw an arm around him, officially trapping him for their questioning. “Did my eyes decei-” Sinker’s question was abruptly interrupted by a chest-shattering hiccup, “...ow… anyway, did my eyes deceive me, or did I see you talking to that cute bartender?” The silver-haired clone waggled his eyebrows, making the Pantoran to Book’s left cackle loudly in his ear.

“Well actually, I was. And um, I think… I think I’m going on a date?” 

At his admission, the whole group paused and spun around to face him. Book felt his face begin to heat under their teasing gaze, and just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, TP launched himself at him to crush the slighter clone in an almighty hug, knocking his previous two captors aside. 

“Look at my little Bookworm, all grown up, going out on dates. It’s so karking cute it nearly brings a tear to my eye,” TP announced loudly while clutching Book to his side and wiping fake tears from his face, making the strategist flush with embarrassment as he shoved the heavy gunner off.

Everyone extended their congratulations to Book and finally continued on their way back to the barracks. As they walked the lower levels, Book chanced a look up to the sky above, littered with the shimmering lights of speeders flying in all directions, and he couldn’t help the smile that grew across his face until his cheeks hurt. Despite the cheeky comments, Book felt everyone’s genuine excitement and happiness for him which warmed his heart, and for the first time in his life, he felt like he was more than just a soldier bred to die on the battlefield. Because surely no cannon fodder could feel the sheer peace he felt in his chest at that moment.

—--------

Finally they reached the GAR HQ, and Quin cheerily went to bid them all a goodnight. But as he turned to Issa, his demeanour changed slightly. Issa had seen that look before during her years growing up at the temple. He was plotting something, and she had a bad feeling about just what was going on in his head.

“What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?”

With an air of nonchalance, Quin shrugged and lifted his hand to examine his finger nails before answering. “Do you remember that time you broke Obi-Wan’s favourite tea pot?”

The question sent a wave of guilt coursing through Issa, bringing the memory alive in her mind as she tried with all her might to push it away. It was years ago. She’d been trying to do something nice for Plo as Master Fisto had let it slip that the Kel Dor’s birthday was coming up. So Issa had decided that she’d try and make her Master his favourite tea as a surprise. She knew Obi-Wan had a full set that he brought out when he had people over, and she would’ve asked his permission but of course the young council member was stuck in the same meetings for the day as Plo. So, she’d made the decision to borrow it and leave a note, thinking Obi-Wan wouldn’t mind. But as she went to leave his quarters, she tripped and couldn’t get her hands out from under the tray quick enough to use the force to catch the fragile items, leaving her to watch as they hit the ground and shattered into a hundred pieces. She’ll never forget the image of Obi-Wan’s sad blue eyes as he cleaned the broken porcelain from his floor later that day.

The Pantoran cringed. “You know I do.”

“Well, you know how I covered for you and got a twenty minute lecture on my lack of appreciation for other people’s property and you said, and I quote,” Quin paused to clear his throat before his voice changed to a higher pitch, attempting to mimic Issa. “Oh Quin, my hero. Thank you, I owe you big time.”

“That’s not verbatim and I do not sound like that,” Issa huffed.

“Well the gist is there. The point is, I’m looking to cash in that favour. I know I said my mission is over and the council is moving me on to another problem, which is great and all, but I don’t think my job on this one is done just yet.”

“Well, did you tell them that?”

“Yeah, but they weren’t exactly happy with me. Apparently because of the war we’re spread thin, and they need me to move on. I’ve gone against their word one too many times now, so they’re watching me like a Blood Eagle this time. Listen there’s a guy on the lower levels here, level 1313. He’s got connections to the Narkabb family and there’s been rumours that the crime lord’s cousin is looking to take over while there’s a power vacuum. I just need you to go down there and find out if that’s true so I can put it back on the council’s radar for someone else to pick up.”

“Maker Quin, that’s a big ask. Plus I don’t exactly want to go around pissing off the council. The same council where my Master, who is freakishly good at telling when I'm lying, is a member.”

“Yeah well, you do have the sabacc face of a Tooka in Plo’s defence,” Quin conceded with a chuckle, before shaking himself and guiding the conversation back on topic. “But seriously Issa, this information could help us save some lives later down the line. The Narkabb family is bad news, and if they’re coming back with a vengeance. People are going to pay and it won’t be me; it’ll be innocent people.”

His words were starting to affect her, wearing down her resolve. “Surely there’s someone better suited for this. Have you not heard back from Desh yet on when he’s coming home?”

Quin sobered for a moment at the mention of his closest friend. “I still can’t get hold of him,” he admitted with a frown that looked far too out of place for the usually easy-going Jedi. The admission that Desh was still out there alone, his status unknown, sat heavily on Issa’s chest.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t ask you for this if I thought I had any other option,” Vos insisted.

Issa gnawed at her bottom lip as she weighed her options. She’d never gone against the council’s wishes before. There’s rules and hierarchy in place for a reason. But the urgency in Vos’s dark eyes was tearing at her logic. This means a lot to him, to save the people this family has hurt. 

I’m so going to regret this in the morning.

“Ugh, fine, I'll do it. But I swear if I go down in front of the council for this Quin-”

“Kid, you won’t, I promise. I’ve got you covered. You're a lifesaver. Thank you.”

Issa crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the man before her. “Are you ever going to stop calling me ‘kid’?”

“When you stop being younger than me maybe.” Quin smirked at her before sweeping her up in a hug, mumbling his thanks again into her shoulder.

The pair bid each other goodbye and Issa jogged to catch up with her troops. The Pantoran just managed to join the clones in the lift before the doors sealed shut. 

She allowed herself a moment to catch her breath as she tilted her head back against the durasteel of the lift and closed her eyes. 

Maker’s sake, Quin. It’s been nearly ten years since the teapot incident, I can’t believe he’s been sitting on that for so long.

Next to her, Issa heard the small clang as one of the troopers copied her stance. Cloud quietly leaned a few centimetres closer before whispering. “Hey, everything okay? You seem tense.” 

The quiet ones are always the most observant, Issa thought fondly.

“Yeah Cloud, I’m good. It’s just been a long day.” She didn’t expand further and he didn’t push, which Issa was beyond thankful for. The two of them stood in companionable silence as they observed the rest of the Wolfpack chatting amongst themselves while the lift continued to plummet down floor after floor to their accommodation.

The troopers had been kind enough to provide her one of their spare bunks for the night to save her having to sneak back through the temple in her inebriated state. Gracelessly, Issa nosed-dived into her bed for the evening, all background noise falling away as she settled into the hard mattress and flat pillow. As the dark bliss of sleep closed in around her, a final thought drifted through her mind, in particular an image of her Master’s amused, all-knowing look earlier that day when Sinker had first called. Issa smirked to herself at the reminder. 

He knows me too well.

Taglist: @misogirl828

Back to Masterlist

#tj writes #pieces fic #star wars #the clone wars #clone wars #tcw #commander wolffe x issa straun #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x oc #commander wolffe x ofc #oc issa straun #clone oc #clone trooper oc #star wars the clone wars #swtcw #clone trooper boost #clone trooper sinker #plo koon #clone trooper oc Two-Pint #clone trooper oc Book #clone trooper oc Cloud #wolfpack #star wars fanfic #star wars fic #104th battalion #slow burn

[cloneloverrrrr]

How cute is my amazing @lune-de-miel-au-paradis for making this lil video for my next chapter with Wolffe & my OC🤩🥰🫶🏻 ( photos from google or Pinterest ) ✨

#clone thot #commander wolffe #talk to me about clones #104th battalion #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x ofc #commander wolffe x OC Crystal #wolffe and Crystal

[touchstarvedasclones]

Hmmm... To add Mando'a to my Medieval AU focused on Wolffe and an OC...

Could give background to where the Wolfpack are from...

(story idea was based on the Medieval drawings of Jake Bartok on ig, if you were wondering)

#star wars #Wolfpack #commander wolffe #clone cuddles in the barracks #fanfic idea #clone wars #medieval au #clone troopers #Wolffe x OFC

[enigmaticexplorer]

Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers. 

At its core, this is a story of love—of its risks, its sacrifices, and its prevailing existence in the midst of hurt. This is a story to remember how to love, and to learn how to accept love. This is a story of reconciling sisterhood, the turmoil of yearning, and the raw vulnerability of being known. 

This is slow-paced and domestic, minimal action with an emphasis on character dynamics. Inspired by A Thousand Splendid Suns and The Book Thief.

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

Content Warnings. Canon-typical violence, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death.

Tags. Fearful-avoidant attachment style. Slow burn. Emotional slow burn. Physical slow burn. Sexual tension. Angst. Mutual pining. Trust issues. Intimacy issues. Hurt/comfort. Hurt/no comfort. Eventual smut. Minimal smut. Domestic fluff. NO instant attraction. NO instant love. Learning to trust. Learning to love. Learning to accept love. Parenting. Sisterhood. Unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Muse. Throughout this story there are 7 “Muses.” Inspired by Greek mythology, each Muse is a short blurb. Some provide character context for side characters. Others provide thematic context. Due to their brevity, the Muses are only available to read on AO3. (To access my works, you need an AO3 account.)

Release Dates. The dates below are tentative and subject to change. When I reach Part 4, I will list new release dates.

Part 1

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

A Muse

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Part 2

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

A Muse

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

A Muse

Chapter 16

Part 3

Chapter 17 - May 9th

Chapter 18 - May 16th

A Muse - May 16th

Chapter 19 - May 23rd

A Muse - May 23rd

Chapter 20 - May 30th

Chapter 21 - June 6th

Chapter 22 - June 27th

Chapter 23 - July 4th

Chapter 24 - July 11th

A Muse - July 11th

Chapter 25 - July 18th

Part 4

Chapter 26 - July 25th

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

A Muse

Chapter 31

Epilogue

Behind the Scenes

Chapter 15 artwork of Kazi and Daria by @eyecandyeoz

#I Yearn and so I Fear Masterlist #commander wolffe x oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe #oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe fanfiction #commander wolffe x ofc #star wars fanfiction

[mrs2224]

Commander Wolffe Shirtless? Yes I gotchu

#clone fanart #spice #spicy clones #star wars #star wars art #clone art #feeling spicy #star wars angst #the clone wars #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x ofc #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #tcw wolffe #clone wars wolffe #rebels wolffe #wolffe x reader #wolffe x you #star wars wolffe #wolffe x oc #wolffe pack #clone trooper wolffe #wolffe

[techs-cyarika]

I wanna talk about my Star Wars OC SO BAD because I’ve been developing her character and story for about 2 years now and I’m in love with her but ugh idk it feels so personal to share my oc

#star wars oc #star wars the clone wars #star wars rebels #star wars #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x ofc

[ariadnes-red-thread]

The Last Word: Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO: THE WOLVES

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter [coming soon]

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Fives/OFC

Chapter Summary: Flashback to a week before, Mal is faced with a big decision that could alter her life drastically. But is she ready to leave the safety of the Wolfpack and face the hard questions that she’s been hiding from?

Chapter Warnings: Some swearing and mentions of Umbara/past trauma

Chapter Word Count: 5.4k

Recommended Listening: The Wolves by Ben Howard

A/N: No Fives this time, but lots of our other favorites, I promise :) Thank you so much for all of the support on Chapter One! I never could have imagined how loving and positive the response would be. Excited to share more of this story with you all! As always, comments, likes, feedback, and reblogs are always so appreciated!

Ao3

Taglist

The transfer talk had started a week earlier. Four Venator-class Star Destroyers lingered as a fleet in the Expanse Region, the armies recollecting while their generals strategized and regrouped. Mal kept busy organizing the medbay. She and the 104th’s clone medic, Crux, worked in silence as they tried hard not to think about why they were all gathered in the depths of space and not on their scheduled leave.

The first sign that something was wrong had been Plo Koon. The General, normally extremely patient and even-tempered, even by Jedi standards, stormed onto the bridge with a thunderous call to attention. He pulled Wolffe away for a meeting that lasted hours. The first anyone heard from them was a crackling summons for Sinker and Comet. The venom in Wolffe’s voice, clear even over the comm, sent a chill down Mal’s spine. She’d never heard him like that, not even after Abregado. The officers disappeared, and the meeting dragged on for even longer. Mal waited with Crux, Wildfire, and Boost. They crouched around a communicator listening to the rumors that began to trickle in from other ships over private lines; stories of brothers killing brothers under orders, horrors that the clones couldn’t imagine. 

Mal, on the other hand, felt her heart begin to race as they listened. She knew horrors like these. They were the ones that haunted her nightmares and sometimes her waking moments, like ghosts that hung over her shoulders, their weight ladened with guilt. She never imagined terrors like this could reach her - or her friends - here, in the Republic army, far from the Separatists and surrounded by an army of brothers. She gripped the edge of the seat to stop her hands from shaking. When the comms finally went silent, no one spoke. 

Before anyone could find the words, the meeting adjourned, and the officers were back on the deck. It seemed whatever fury had been burning before had subsided. They all looked heavy now, older. It was the oddest on Wolffe. Though he usually chose his words carefully, the stoic quietness that had overtaken the usually grumbling Commander was new and darker. Sinker barked the orders instead. The Jedi cruiser immediately made its jump to the Expanse region to gather with other Republic ships. 

Three days passed before Mal saw Wolffe again. He locked himself in his office and didn’t respond to comms. Mal checked on him through Sinker, who made sure that he was eating for her. Satisfied that Sinker was doing his best to pester the Commander into taking care of himself, Mal found boredom creeping up on her without anyone to patch up. She and Crux did their best to stay distracted. The medbay had never looked cleaner. When Mal wasn’t restocking med packs or refilling bacta containers, she was organizing games of sabacc. Sabacc had always been a source of comfort for Mal, and it had been a downtime staple of the 104th since she joined. With the minimal stipends the clones got, Mal never let them play for real credits. Usually, they used ration bars or scraps of flimsi. It made it more fun anyway. There was more laughter and teasing, with nothing really on the line. Nothing on the line was a nice change of pace.

This afternoon’s game came about during a lull in after-lunch chores. Mal, Comet, Wildfire, Sinker, Crux, and Boost were huddled in a circle in the men’s barracks. Mal was in the middle of a roll when Wolffe called. The dice tumbled from her hand just as the comm on her wrist beeped, its final notes drowned out by a collective groan at the numbers she rolled. When Mal answered, Wolffe’s voice met her ears and brought a smile to her face. It was back to being its recognizable gruff timbre.

“Mal, get in here.” He snapped before he cut the call.

The message was short and to the point, as his comms always were. Mal knew she’d find him in his office, and before she could wonder why she was being summoned, the other clones began to make low whistles.

“Someone’s in trouble!” Comet chuckled.

“What the fuck did you do this time?” Boost shook his head at her with a paternal smile.

“Don’t worry, ad’ika. We’ll have Crux ready the medbay for after your chewing out.” Sinker elbowed the medic next to him, who quickly shuffled his cards away from the trooper and glared.

“The Jedi are probably finally giving me a medal for putting up with you all.” Mal sighed as she threw down her own cards.

Sinker leaned over the table, abandoning any pretense of subtlety, to stare at her hand before his gaze snapped back up to Mal. His jaw hung open, and betrayal was written all over his face.

“You’re a liar!” Sinker called out.

“It’s called bluffing. I know you’re not familiar with it.” She winked at him before she turned, leaving the rest of the soldiers to tease their brother about his bad sabacc face.

Mal wound the dark halls of the Venator until she reached Wolffe’s office. As the blast door slid open, she knew she’d find the Commander bent over a desk covered in flimsi, holos, and datapads. Mal had offered to clean it for him time and time again. Still, Wolffe always rolled his eyes at her and said it was organized to him, usually throwing in some colorful adjectives along the way. Mal wasn’t expecting an unfamiliar clone to be waiting with him. 

The new clone, a captain according to the rank on his chest, sat in one of the two chairs across from Wolffe, his left hand resting on the chair arm and the right laid on the helmet that was perched atop his knee. Mal quickly saluted the familiar yet unfamiliar man. She wasn’t officially military, not like the clones. Civilian medics were a subset of the GAR, but she held no rank, and the field training had been practically shameful. The role was created so there would be extra hands to help the clone medics and the medical droids in the medbay and the medbay only. 

Though she might not be officially GAR, Mal didn’t mind the military aspects of the job. The structure and the order of everything had seeped into her blood quickly. A part of Mal loved it. Craved it even. It felt safe. She just couldn’t stand being told what to do, not since Takodana. Luckily, Wolffe never minded if Mal took a little creative license with her scope. From the beginning, he had encouraged Crux to take her with him into the field. He respected her experience, and she also suspected that Wolffe knew she liked the intensity and distraction of it all, even if they never talked about it. It was one of the ways they were similar.

The captain smiled as Mal paused in the doorway. He had close-cropped blonde hair and brown eyes that twinkled even in the cabin’s dim light. She found that she liked the man right away. He radiated kindness, not a meek, differential kindness, but the warm kindness that comes from a confident, caring heart.

“Yes, sir?” Mal lingered at the entrance in case she had misunderstood the summons. 

“You’re suddenly all polite in front of company?” Wolffe winked his cybernetic eye at her, his brown one bright with glee. Mal instantly relaxed. “Have a seat. Captain Rex and I were talking about you.”

“You must be the Captain Rex talking about me.” She flashed a smile at the man as she settled into the third chair. “Nice to meet you.”

“My vod always had a talent for introductions.” He grinned at his brother, bringing a familiar scowl to Wolffe’s face. “I promise it was only good things.”

Mal glanced back and forth between the officers. When neither of them spoke again, her curiosity got the better of her.

“So, what’s going on?”

Rex’s eyes flicked to Wolffe. When the Commander didn’t speak, his brow seemed to set in determination. He turned back to Mal, facing her fully.

“I was asking the Commander if you might be open to a transfer.”

A black hole could have opened up and swallowed her at that moment, and she wouldn’t have been more surprised. Mal’s eyes flitted to Wolffe, hoping to see some sort of anger or shock that another battalion was trying to steal her away, but she saw nothing. That stung. She always knew Wolffe was less openly emotional about his attachment to her than the rest of the 104th, but Mal still thought their relationship meant something to him. She certainly never thought he’d push her out.

“I’m sorry to ask.” Rex quickly added, reading the shock on her face. “I wouldn’t like the idea of leaving my men either. Truth is, my troop is short on medics. I promoted my man Coric to CMO, leaving my Torrent Company with only one primary medic. And uh, frankly, we’re a little too reckless for that.”

Mal pulled her attention from the cool commander and back to the captain with the soft eyes. She could deal with Wolffe later.

“Wolffe brags about you all the time to the other COs. Figured if I was gonna go searching for a civilian medic, I might as well try to get the best.” Rex drummed his fingers on his helmet as he spoke.

Mal blushed at the statement before she quickly searched the Captain’s face. She was looking for flattery, but his smile was unwaveringly genuine.

“I promise you I’ll think about it,” she assured Rex. It was a lie, and Mal felt a pang of guilt after seeing how earnest he was.

“All I can ask.” Rex stood, tucking his helmet into his hip. “I need to get back to my ship. Can’t leave those di’kute unsupervised for too long.”

He let out a half-exasperated chuckle to himself before he nodded to her and then saluted the Commander. Rex turned on his heel without another word and marched from the room. Mal waited until the door was sealed shut behind him.

“What the hell, Wolffe?” She snapped as she spun back to him. “You’re trying to get rid of me?”

Wolffe leaned back in his chair as he raised an amused eyebrow at her, the corners of his lips turning up into a smirk. It was the look he always gave Mal when she got feisty with him. He enjoyed her hot-headed nature and entertained it the same way a loth wolf would tolerate the play-fighting of a pup. His lackadaisical response to her fury often made her laugh and soothed her, but sometimes, it irritated Mal, especially when she was really pissed off. This was one of those times.

“After everything, you’re just gonna ship me out?” Mal felt her voice start to rise as fear bubbled in her chest. She shifted to the edge of her seat, the world suddenly a little unsteady. “You’ve got to be kidding. This is bantha shit.”

“Settle down, ad’ika. I’m not kicking you out.” Wolffe crossed his arms, his voice even. “I’ve already found that you’re impossible to get rid of.”

“Fuck you.” Mal fired right back at him before she paused. His little quip helped temper the panic, but frustration still seethed from her. “Then what the hell?”

“Look,” He leaned forward, his voice dropping a half an octave. “Rex is with the 501st.”

Mal gasped, despite herself. Everyone in the GAR had heard of the 501st, the famously brave and infamously bold legion that fought under the command of General Anakin Skywalker. Stories of their more creative battle plans were told over shots of spotchka. In the last week, however, their name had been uttered in hushed tones and horrified whispers as the stories of what had happened on Umbara last week spread throughout the GAR.

“He was so…” She thought about Captain Rex’s smile. “... kind.”

“Always has been. Rex is the best of us.” He spoke without affection as though it were a fact. “The bravest, the most creative, the boldest. Even while he’s hurting right now, he’s only thinking of his men. For better or for worse. I think you can relate to him. In more ways than one.”

Wolffe settled back into his chair as he let the inference in his words sink in. The already small durasteel office seemed to shrink, closing in on Mal as she shifted in her seat.

“From the stories, they were tricked on Umbara.” Her heart began to pound at the implication.  “Not controlled.” 

“Didn’t say it was the same, ad’ika. Just said you might be able to relate.”

Mal’s frown deepened. Finally, when she didn’t speak, Wolffe rolled his eyes and sighed. She knew it was at her refusal to admit he might be on to something, but when he started again, his voice was softer than she had heard in a long time.

“Look, I know I don’t say it a lot, but I don’t know what we would have done without after….” Wolffe trailed off. Mal knew what he meant. He coughed. “You rescued Sinker, Boost, and me way back then.”

A silence filled the room for a moment as memories overwhelmed them both. The war had felt like years, but the weight of those early days never felt less heavy, especially if they looked directly at them.

“You rescued me first,” she quickly replied, giving him a small smile.

“Us finding you was luck, Mal.” He said firmly. “You came back, and you brought mirjahaal with you.”

Mal knew what he was implying. She had worked hard in the days and months after Grevious’ attack to make sure that the remnants of the 104th healed or at least knew that they would eventually heal, inside and out. It was the least that she could do. They had done the same for her not long before. And it seemed like Wolffe thought she could do the same for the 501st.

“I don’t know them.” She frowned.

“But I know you, and I think you can help them.”

“How can you ask me to leave you? To leave Sinker and Boost? After everything?” Her voice was starting to rise again.

“Because I owe Rex that. We all do.”

Mal didn’t say anything. What Wolffe was asking her - to leave the only family she had left- was impossible, and he should know it.

“It’s not just about the 501st, though. There’s another reason I think you should at least consider it.”  Wolffe’s eyes narrowed, the white and amber iris each focused on her. Suddenly, the air was tense, and Mal felt bare before her old friend. “I didn’t say anything to Rex, but this is also your chance for answers… if you still want them.”

Answers. She hadn’t thought about answers in a long time. Defense bubbled up in her chest. Of course, she still wanted them. Wolffe had to know that. She looked at him, half-pleading. His scar. Before Khorm. That was the last time they had talked about this. Before Khorm. Mal’s heart began to sink as she realized that it had been almost a year since she had looked into any of her leads. She didn’t realize it had been so long. What had happened to her family was easier to push down and push aside while she busied herself with making war. She pretended that fighting the Separatists was enough. She had ignored her oath to find out why everyone was dead, and she was ignoring the debt she owed them. She’d gotten comfortable. The oxygen was suddenly scarce as Mal tried to inhale. Cadex and Tynan’s faces flashed before her, their green eyes staring blankly into hers. 

Wolffe cleared his throat again, pulling her back to the present. Breath flooded her lungs as Wolffe waited. She mustered up the courage to respond. 

“I do.” Mal finally answered.

“Then take the transfer,” Wolffe repeated. “I will follow General Plo until I die, but his methods are slower… more precise. Skywalker will get you where you want to be.”

She didn’t say anything, the flame of defensiveness wetted by her guilt. It had been over two years, and she hadn’t gotten any closer to finding out what had happened or why. Mal had brought her story to General Plo Koon after she had first been rescued. The Kel Dor listened with interest and promised he would help. She knew he meant it, but the war raged on, and nothing had come of it. Wolffe was right. It was time for answers, and she needed to find a Jedi ready to help. She needed a Jedi who would be a little reckless.

“The decision is up to you.” Wolffe shook his head, finally breaking eye contact for a moment, just enough to let her breathe again. He brought his hands down to the desk, a tell-tale sign that he was closing the subject. “But you should know I wouldn’t give up my favorite medic unless I had a reason.”

“I’ll think about it,” Mal said as she stood.

This time, she meant it. 

Mal tried to think about it as she made her way to the mess hall, but the annoyance that had dissipated under Wolffe’s gaze was beginning to bubble up again. How dare he try to talk her into leaving? This was her family, the only one she had anymore, and she belonged here. A feeling of betrayal settled like a rock into the pit of her stomach as she collected whatever slop the GAR was serving. She sought out her friends quickly.

Mal spotted Crux first. The clone medic stood out with his shaved head, the practical choice he once told her, and the GAR medical sigil tattooed on the back of his neck. Sitting with him were two other unmistakable heads, one of silver and the other decorated with two long, maroon strips.

“Why the long face?” Boost asked as Mal set her tray on the table and plopped down on the bench across from him.

She told them about the transfer. She gave them Rex’s offer and Wolffe’s logic, and then she told them all the reasons she was furious. This was her home. Her family. She waited for them to be mad for her. She waited for the cries of outrage. They never came.

“‘S not a bad idea.” Boost rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced over at Sinker.

 Mal followed his gaze to see Sinker nodding. She snapped her head to her fellow medic, looking for support, but next to her, Crux shrugged in agreement.

“What is this?” She threw her arms up in the air. “Is everyone trying to get rid of me?”

“No one’s trying to get rid of you, ad’ika.” Boost quickly tried to assure her.

“Yeah, that’s impossible. We already tried.” Sinker snickered.

“That’s what Wolffe said, too,” Mal grumbled, shooting a glare at Sinker as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Neither of you are funny.”

“Look, be mad all you want.” Boost answered as he dove back into his meal, the shock of the news immediately wearing off in the face of a rapidly cooling dinner. “But Wolffe is right. If you want to be in the middle of the action, if you want answers, and you want ‘em quickly, the 501st is the place to be. And a spot with them isn’t going to open up every week.”

“You never know with their casualty numbers.” 

Sinker chuckled again as Boost shot him the glare this time. Boost shook his head at his brother before he turned his attention back to his meal. He sliced a piece of his protein cube off and found it with his fork before he turned back to Mal, waving his skewered food like a lightsaber.

“It’s your call to make, but the fact that Captain Rex asked for you is a compliment. You’re a damn good medic, and you’ve worked hard to get here. Done a lot for us clones in the 104th along the way. Now it’s time to get what you want. Don’t you think you deserve that?” 

You deserve to be happy.

“Tye would have told you to do it,” Sinker added, his joking tone suddenly gone.

Mal didn’t respond to that. She didn’t even look at Sinker. Instead, she turned to Crux, trying to ignore how her skin was starting to crawl.

“What do you think?”

The 104th’s medic was quiet, momentarily assessing as he always did.

“It makes sense.” Crux finally spoke. “Will we be short a medic for the time being? Yes, but the 501st has far higher mortality numbers than we do. Strategically, they need you more.”

“Aw shucks, just saw you’ll miss me.” Mal elbowed the stiff medic.

He grinned back.

“Well, that goes without saying.”

The conversation quickly turned to other subjects, but food quickly disappeared, and the meal wound down. As they gathered their trays and empty cups, She and Crux said their goodbyes to the other two before they started to wander back to the medbay.  Mal waited until they were in the empty halls to broach the subject again

She and Crux hadn’t always seen eye to eye. Their first few months together had been particularly rough. He didn’t trust her as a civilian, and she resented him for… well, for not being Tye. But it had been a long time since then. His even temper and logic in the face of blaster fire and carnage were a perfect balance to her emotionally charged reactions. He was the only one besides Wolffe who would know what the right answer was.

“Really, what do you think?” She slid her hands into the pockets of the grey jumpsuit as she prodded the stoic medic again.

“You really want to know?”

“I asked.” She shrugged, her long gently red braid bouncing on her shoulder.

“Yeah, well, I’ve fallen into that trap before, Mal.” Crux chuckled, and Mal knew that one of any number of memories of heated arguments was on his mind. “You don’t usually like being told what to do.”

“I just want your advice,” She said, “as a friend, not as my medic CO.”

“Alright.” Crux sighed before he spoke. “I think that, despite what it feels like right now, this war isn’t going to go on forever. You have to take the opportunities you’re given. Take it from a clone.”

Mal stopped in her tracks. Crux continued a few steps, not realizing he was leaving his companion before he looked to his side and found the space empty. He paused and turned back to where his words had stopped her in her tracks. Shame burned her cheeks. Here she was, oscillating over choices that gave her a power in her future that the clones rarely saw.

“I’m sorry, Crux, I-” 

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, Mal.” He shook his head as he quickly cut her off. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just offering a different perspective. I don’t want to see you miss your chance to change your path.”

Mal bit her lip as she nodded, digging her hands further into her pockets. Crux gave her a small smile.

“Go get some rest, Mal. I’ll finish up in the medbay.”

Mal didn’t realize how exhausted she felt until she stripped off the jumpsuit, let her hair loose, and pulled on sweatpants and a sweater. It had sunk into her bones and laid heavy there. Still, neither rest nor clarity found Mal when she crawled into bed. As the lights flickered off on the living quarters of the Star Destroyer, Mal lay in a lonely lower bunk in the small and otherwise empty civilian barracks. The idea of a transfer had taken root in her head, and it was sprouting. She wished she was back on Coruscant, something that she rarely felt. Still, Mal missed the dingy local pool that she and Tye had found on the 576th level the week after she had moved into her off-base apartment. She wanted to swim. The future was always clearer in the water.

Instead, Mal stared up at the dim metal of the top bunk. The thought of leaving the 104th still made her pulse quicken and her breath rise. Leaving this battalion would be more than a transfer. It would be losing her family again. She owed her life to Sinker, Boost, and Wolffe. She had been with them when they had to rebuild. The idea of not having their back or them not having hers was devastating. Who would patch them up? Who would make sure that Wolffe ate something or that Comet slept?

Mal turned on her side, eyes looking out into the impenetrable dark. It was overwhelming. She was usually grateful that she didn’t have to share the bunk with anyone. She didn’t have to worry about upsetting them when the nightmares came, and she had always appreciated solitude. Tonight, Mal would have liked someone to talk to, though. She thought about comm-ing Wolffe or Crux, but a growing part of her realized that the one person she really wanted to talk to was Tye.

Tye. In the span of a lifetime, she’d only known him for a fraction of it, but he had a clarity and purpose that she’d never seen in anyone. She could use that clarity right now. The last time she remembered having it was when she made the decision to join the GAR as a medic so she could help the 104th. She had needed to give something back to all of the Wolfpack, but her debt to Tye weighed heaviest on her, and it was one she couldn’t repay. Not anymore. He was a corpse floating somewhere out in the Abregado system. All she could do was look after his brothers and hope it was enough. Now Wolffe was telling her his brothers needed help. Maybe this was what she needed to do to keep repaying that debt. 

And then there was the promise of answers. Wolffe was right. Mal had pushed that quest aside for a long time, focusing on the day-to-day battle instead of the questions always in the back of her mind. If this was the chance to finally find out what happened to her family, she had to take it. She owed it to herself and them, another debt to the dead. A hand wandered up to her temple and traced a familiar path into her hairline until it found the raised skin that lay beneath her auburn roots. Mal ran her fingertips over the small incision, long since healed and hidden. It had been hidden long enough. It was time for answers.

Sleep crept up on Mal like a nexu, springing out at her from the darkness and wrestling her mind into the abyss. She didn’t have any nightmares that night.

Mal woke up the next morning feeling rested in a way she couldn't remember being since before the war when rainy nights on Takodana would turn into bright mornings where the sun-kissed dew would fall from the overgrown canopy. Those mornings when she would take her boat to the lake and patrol the waterways were the last time she remembered having this kind of purpose. Despite the uncertainty ahead, it was fortifying.

Mal took a quick sonic shower in her private fresher before she braided her hair and pulled on her gray jumpsuit. She glanced in the long mirror as she ran her fingers over the 104th's emblem on her chest. She traced the aurebesh numbers and the small wolf emblem. With deft fingers, Mal took the pin from the fabric and pocketed it.

She stepped out of the fresher, and immediately went to see Wolffe. The hallways were filled with familiar faces and greetings, and she savored every one of them. Wildfire met her with her morning caf. They took it the same - one sugar, one cream - and after continuously switching cups in briefings, he finally just started to bring Mal her own, with an M on the lid. She surprised him with a hug as she took it and promised she would meet him at breakfast in a little bit.  There was something she had to do.

The caf tasted even sweeter today, and Mal smiled as she sipped on on the warm drink. She clasped her hands around the cup as she found herself stopping before Wolffe's office again. The blast door loomed before her for a moment. She knew that there were things on the other side that she might not like. There were no answers that would save her from her sins. One hand left its grip on the cup so she could run her fingers over the cool durasteel, tracing the fine lines until she found the control panel. Mal typed in the code she knew by heart, and the door slid open.  An affectionate smile crossed her lips when she spotted Wolffe. He was sitting behind his desk as he always did, behind a mound of flimsi and nose buried in a datapad. She realized she would miss his messy desk.

“I’ll do it,” Mal quickly spoke, not giving herself even a second to change her mind.

Wolffe kept typing.

“Our leave next week overlaps with the 501st. We’ll make the transition then.”

“You already talked to Rex.” She huffed. It wasn’t a question. 

He finally looked up from the datapad with a sly grin.

“I knew you’d say yes.”

Mal shook her head at the Commander as she rolled her eyes and sighed at his arrogance. The annoyance didn’t reach her eyes, though. With nothing else to discuss, Mal turned to go. Before she could make it to the door, Wolffe spoke again.

“You made the hard choice, Mal,” Wolffe called. “He’d be proud.”

Mal stopped in her tracks. She could ignore Sinker when he brought up Tye, but she couldn’t ignore Wolffe. Mal turned to him with an attempt at a smile, even though she knew it likely looked like a grimace.

“I know.”

“They all would be. Your father, Cadex, and Tynan too.”

Mal’s eyes widened as the names left her friend’s mouth. Wolffe never mentioned her family directly. Even though he knew more about her than anyone else alive, he’d always respected her privacy. Bile began to rise in Mal’s throat. Could she still make them proud? She tried to nod to Wolffe. She stiffly lowered her chin just a little before she spun on her heel and double-timed her way back to her barrack. All along the way, a voice chased her.

You deserve to be happy.

It wasn't until she reached the mess hall that her ears stopped ringing, the noise of the hungry clones a reprieve from the thunderous voices in her head. Wildfire waved her over to a table, and Mal pushed aside Wolffe's final words. No one knew what she deserved, but she was ready to find out.

When Mal finally stepped onto the hangar of the 501st battalion, the morning’s distress had evaporated along with any remnants of a hangover. She had closed the book on her mistake. The clone, Fives, was a mirage now. He was nothing more than a memory at this point, a reaffirmation of her rules, and eventually, once the shame wore off, an embarrassing story for her to tell Sinker and Boost the next time she saw them. Mal had real things to worry about now.

Though the hangover may have been gone, the headache seemed to come right back as she stepped into the sea of blue and white troopers. Her new blue jumpsuit, swapped for her old grey one, matched the armor of the men who marched by her, but there were no signs of recognition. They swarmed around her, looking at their datapads, at each other, looking anywhere but at the nat-born who had just entered their realm. There were no greetings or hugs. There was no Boost to slap her on the back, no Sinker launching an airborne assault of loving insults in salute, no Wildfire with her morning caf. She shifted, all alone amid the Grand Army of the Republic. For the first time in a long time, the machine of the GAR ground on around Mal.

“Mal!” A friendly voice called out from behind her.

She spun immediately, thirsting for anything familiar. A vague feeling of disappointment settled in her gut as she realized the voice was attached to a pair of rapidly approaching jaig eyes.

Stop it. She chastised herself. You agreed to this. Time to make the most of it.

So Mal tucked away the ache and waved at the approaching man. He pulled his helmet from his head, revealing a sideways smile. Captain Rex held his hand out to her before he chirped over the din of the GAR’s machinations.

“Welcome to the 501st.”

Taglist: @twistedstitcher27 @sleepingsun501 @kaminocasey @baba-fett @wild-karrde @rexxdjarin @hugtherocks @lunaastars @clonecyaree @thefact0rygirl @wizardofrozz @jesjestraverse @fordo-kixed-rex @padmeromanoffs​ @xopancakeox @shellshooked​ @writingbylee​ @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamonds

#the last word #the last word series #wip!the last word #star wars the clone wars #tcw fanfic #fan fiction #fives #arc trooper fives #clone trooper fives #tcw fives #fives x ofc #fives x oc #star wars oc #tcw ofc #oc: mal darroch #medic oc #captain rex #tcw rex #commander wolffe #wolffe tcw #clone trooper sinker #clone trooper boost #clone medic oc #clone oc #oc: crux #oc: tye #sinker tcw #boost tcw #plo koon #501st legion

[agendabymooner]

the paddock’s resident menace and the dame ! toto w. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

summary: two things: tia christie wolff really was her papa’s carbon copy AND tilly wolff wasn’t just “mrs. wolff” after being presented with a damehood.

content warning: dad!toto and mom!ofc, the wolff kids being menaces (mainly one kid), fluff, christian horner being a good uncle, mentions of one baby leclerc and hearth sister!ofc (stevie hamilton), everything is strictly fictional so don’t take it to heart plz i know nothing about the dates/full criteria of damehood presentations and whatnot

note: more tia wolff content, i guess :) enjoy xx

masterlist

AUSTRIAN GP

THE FAST LANE DAILY

TILLY MARIE WOLFF: BRITISH BILLIONAIRE AWARDED DAME COMMANDER TITLE FOR PHILANTHROPIC CONTRIBUTIONS, MOTORSPORT SUCCESS, AND LITERARY ENDEAVORS

in a remarkable recognition of her outstanding achievements, tilly marie wolff (née hearth), a british billionaire and owner of hearth automotive groups, has been presented the prestigious dame commander title from the most excellent order of the british empire. this honor is a testament to her remarkable contributions as an automotive industry leader, philanthropist, and her success in the world of formula one racing. additionally, wolff's passion for literature and writing has led her to establish write well uk, an organization that encourages writers to explore literature and literary writing through tailored programs.

a force in the automotive industry

tilly marie wolff's influence in the automotive industry is undeniable. as the owner of hearth automotive groups and its subsidiaries, she has revolutionized the sector by implementing a nonprofit and community services approach. her visionary leadership has transformed the way the industry operates, emphasizing the importance of investing in charitable organizations and launching programs to support those in need.

philanthropic endeavors

wolff's commitment to making a positive impact on society is evident through her generous philanthropic endeavors. she has invested substantial resources in various charitable organizations, focusing on initiatives such as community shelters and youth programs. by providing essential resources and support, wolff has helped countless individuals and communities thrive.

founding organizations and racing team youth programs

throughout her illustrious career, tilly marie wolff has founded numerous organizations, including youth programs associated with her racing teams. these programs have not only nurtured young talent but have also provided opportunities for aspiring individuals to pursue their dreams in the world of motorsport. the success rate of these initiatives has been exceptional, further solidifying wolff's reputation as a visionary leader.

literary pursuits with write well uk

in addition to her accomplishments in the automotive industry, tilly marie wolff has a deep-rooted passion for literature and writing. leveraging her background in journalism and communications, she established write well uk, an organization dedicated to fostering a love for literature and literary writing. through this organization, writers are encouraged to learn and explore more by participating in programs tailored to their needs. write well uk serves as a platform for aspiring writers to develop their skills and engage with the literary community.

recognition and ceremony

the awarding of the dame commander title to tilly marie wolff is a testament to her remarkable achievements and contributions. at the ceremony, she was accompanied by her husband, toto wolff, the mercedes amg petronas f1 team principal, their daughter tia wolff, and her brother-in-law, lewis hamilton, a renowned formula one driver who had previously received this prestigious honor.

connecting motorsport, literature, and community

wolff's involvement in the world of formula one racing extends beyond her ownership of hearth automotive groups. she holds a significant stake in the successful red bull racing team, as well as a twenty percent ownership in both scuderia ferrari and mclaren racing. her influence in these teams has not only contributed to their success on the track but has also allowed her to further connect motorsport with community initiatives. through write well uk, she bridges the gap between motorsport and literature, encouraging writers to explore their craft while fostering a sense of community.

tilly marie wolff's journey from a british billionaire to a dame is a testament to her exceptional leadership, philanthropy, success in the automotive industry, and her passion for literature. her commitment to transforming the industry's approach to nonprofit and community services has had a profound impact on society. through her charitable investments, youth programs, and the establishment of write well uk, wolff has not only changed lives but has also left an indelible mark on the world of formula one racing and the literary community. her recognition as a dame commander is a well-deserved honor, celebrating her remarkable achievements and contributions to both the motorsport, literary, and wider community.

tagged tillywolff, hearthautomotivegroups

liked by christianhorner, gerihalliwell, lewishamilton

user1 i can brag about being related to the dame tilly wolff and sir lewis hamilton, if i'm being honest 🙃

mercedesamgf1 us too tbh 😇

user2 it's well deserved ❤️

user3 she did not carry the youth and charity programs of ferrari, red bull and mclaren (hell even mercedes) only for her to not be recognized for it 😭😩

user4 the best thing she had done was quit vogue tbh 🤭

user5 no seriously though 🥲

user6 their kids would be like "yeah my mum/aunt is dame tilly wolff and my dad/uncle is sir lewis hamilton wbu" in the future and i think i'm okay with that 😍

user7 alexa, how do i get adopted into the hearth family?

user8 redbullracing come get your boss, he's lurking at the merc page

SILVERSTONE GP - TIA'S BIRTHDAY WEEK

tagged tillywolff

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63, mickschumacher

georgerussell63 no wonder why we're eating good this week 🤭 liked by mercedesamgf1

mickschumacher did she eat all of the scones?! liked by mercedesamgf1

mercedesamgf1 we are here not to deny nor confirm that mini toto has indeed taken a chance to take every berry scone she saw - as requested by a certain adelmo

mickschumacher i can't even fight a birthday girl

mercedesamgf1 you can't fight your boss' 7 year old daughter, mick.

mickschumacher i know.

user1 silverstone gp hits different for us merc fans 😩

user2 happy birthday mini toto!!!

user3 happy birthday to the only girl who can give christian horner the headache he didn't need!

BONUS !!!

#formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #formula one imagine #formula one x oc #f1 imagine #formula one smau #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff #toto wolff fic #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff fanfiction #toto wolff au #toto wolff instagram au #mercedes amg imagine #mercedes imagine #f1 ig au #f1 instagram au #f1 fiction #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one dad #formula one x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Part 1

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Characters: Wolffe, Plo Koon, Cara (child OFC)

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, reader is not the spouse, grief, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 807

Author's Note: I came up with this sad short fic while I was on hiatus. If I have to suffer, then y'all are going to suffer with me. It's sad. It's really sad. I might make this into a full-length reader fic at some point, where Wolffe hires a nanny (reader) for his daughter and they fall in love, or something sappy like that (pssst, I did). As always, please enjoy 💚

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

Wolffe stands frozen in the medcenter hallway, staring down an endless sterile corridor with a small hand wrapped tightly around his finger. A pulmonary embolism, they said. A blood clot in the lungs, they said. She was so young, they said. Could've happened to anyone, they said. But it didn't happen to anyone. It happened to his wife. Within moments, and by no choice of his own, he's now a single father in a galaxy torn by war. The light of his life, snuffed out like a candle. 

"Daddy?" his daughter says while tugging on his hand. 

Wolffe snaps out of his daze and looks down at her. "Yeah, baby?"

"Where's mommy?" she asks.

"Mommy…" Wolffe pauses, biting his lip as he looks anywhere but his daughter's face. "Mommy had to go."

"Go where?" she asks. 

"Far away," he says.

"But why?" she asks. "I love mommy."

"I love mommy too, baby," he says, barely able to keep his emotions at bay. 

"Then why'd she leave?" she whines. 

"Listen to me, Cara," he kneels on the ground in front of her. "Sometimes… sometimes people have to leave and there's nothing we can do about it."

"When's she coming back?" she asks. 

"She's not," he chokes.

"I want mommy!" she yells.

Wolffe picks up his crying child and holds her against his chest, letting his own tears fall silently out of her view. "I know, baby. I know. I want her too."

"I'm not leaving without mommy!" she wails.

"Please, baby," he soothes as she cries inconsolable.

"Hush little one," a soft voice says from behind Wolffe.

Wolffe turns around and sighs in relief. "General."

"I came as soon as I heard," Plo says. He places a gentle hand on Wolffe's shoulder. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Wolffe says while bouncing his daughter to try and calm her down. 

"Come here little one," Plo says as he stretches out his arms to take Cara from Wolffe. 

Wolffe peels his distraught daughter off of his chest and hands her to Plo, then collapses down onto the bench against the wall. He hangs head in his hands and sobs quietly. His first real moment to fully process the loss of his wife. 

Plo turns away from Wolffe to give him some privacy and continues to bounce Cara to soothe her. 

The little girl's crying echoes throughout the hallway, sending sharp pains through Wolffe's already broken heart. He wants her to stop crying so he can stop crying. She's just a child, and she doesn't understand what's happening, which is making the situation all the more difficult. How can he console her when he can barely hold it together himself? The last time he felt this helpless was the Malevolence incident, and even then he held it together better than right now.

He doesn't know how to be a mother. He's a soldier, a commander. How is he going to fight in the war and raise a child? It's practically impossible. He can't just quit the war either. No clone can. His wife was a saint. She took care of everything while he was away on campaigns. The only thing he needed to do when he came home was hug his little baby girl and dote on her until he had to leave again. He gave his family everything he had, and everything he didn't have. 

He always knew he was going to be an absent father because of the war, but he didn't in his wildest imagination think his wife would die before him. They had contingency plans for if he died, but they didn't make any plans for if she died. This entire scenario came out of left-field and blindsided him. They were eating dinner like they always did when he goes on shore leave. How in the universe did they go from eating dinner to her being dead? He'll never understand it.

"General," Wolffe says through his tears. "What do I do now?"

Plo studies the devastated commander and softens his eyes. "You take each moment as it comes."

"But what do I do?" Wolffe pleads with a hitch in his throat. "The funeral, my kid, my troops, my–"

"Arrangements are being made as we speak," Plo interrupts. "You are not alone in this despair, Wolffe."

Wolffe looks up at the general and a menial, barely noticeable smile forms at the corner of his mouth, but it's betrayed by the streaks of tears that line his flushed cheeks. He says nothing in response, afraid that if he utters even one more syllable, he'll lose the last bit of composure he's maintaining. However, the words of his general ring true. He's not alone. He's never been alone. He has his general and an entire battalion of brothers to lean on. His family is here for him. 

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List: @nahoney22 @commander-sunshine @sunshinesdaydream  @padawancat97 @verndusk @sun-roach @coraex @lickylickylicky @homemade-clones @523rdrebel   @clonemedickix @starrylothcat @mooncommlink @ladyzirkonia @stunkbiggu @cdblake1565 @ladytano420 @moonlightwarriorqueen @anxiouspineapple99 @clonethirstingisreal @dreamie411 @trixie2023 @cw80831 @ca77m3anna @rinwritesfics @t3mpest98 @novas-daydreaming

Join my taglist HERE

Tip me a tea on Ko-fi HERE

#tbbb writes #commander wolffe x fem!reader #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #wolffe x fem!reader #wolffe x reader #wolffe x you #clone x fem!reader #clone x reader #clone x you #commander wolffe #tcw wolffe #wolffe #the clone wars #clone wars #tcw #star wars #clone wars fanfiction #clone wars fanfic #clone wars fic #tcw fanfiction #tcw fanfic #tcw fic #fanfiction #fanfic #fic

[wild-karrde]

Happy Fandom Friday!

I want to shoutout three WIP, OC fics, and a one-shot reader.

A Shattered Peace: (@writteninthesw) Danielle has written such an emotionally tense story between Amara and Wolffe. Both characters are struggling, and their pains are real and raw, and it’s an incredible story with a recent chapter update that left me reeling.

Sweet True Lies: (@sleepingsun501) Within the first three chapters, Erin has created a story that is looking to be both intense and romantically satisfying. Keeda and Fox are so precious, and I’m eagerly awaiting for them to reconnect (and dreading the trauma sure to come).

Unwritten: (@rexxdjarin) Julie has explored depths of emotions that are vulnerable and so relatable. Mari and Rex have a beautiful connection and I’m excited to see how their connection develops amidst the trials of war.

Fireworks: (@imarvelatthestars) I don’t know much about Hound, but this one-shot was so sweet and fun, and now I want to know everything about this man. Anyway, I loved seeing Hound step into training with reader (and his personality), and it was all around a cozy feel.

ALLI THESE ARE ALL SUCH GOOD RECS!!! A Shattered Peace has been on my to-read list FOREVER (I PROMISE I AM GOING TO GET CAUGHT UP ONE DAY, DANIELLE!!). Amara seems like SUCH an awesome OC and I cannot WAIT to learn more about her. I am behind on both STL and Unwritten (notice a trend? I HATE MYSELF I AM SO SORRY), but I am SO VERY INVESTED in both of those stories and the immaculate OCs Erin and Julie have created. And a Hound fic you say??? He's a lesser-written-for character that I always get excited when I find fics for him so THANK YOU for sending each and every one of these in! They are all OUTSTANDING!!!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

#FANDOM FRIDAY #creator appreciation #fic rec #fanfiction #fan fic #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #nsft #lemon #lemony lemon #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x ofc #commander wolffe x oc #commander wolffe x original female character #OC Amara Kora #commander fox #commander fox x ofc #commander fox x oc #commander fox x original female character #OC Keeda Ionza #captain rex #captain rex x oc #captain rex x original female character #captain rex x ofc #OC Mari Vontas #sergeant hound #hound x reader #hound x you

[teletraan-meets-jarvis]

Pieces - Masterlist

Rating: M - Canon typical violence, language.

Having trained her whole life to keep the peace, Jedi Padawan Issa Straun is thrust into the start of the Clone Wars, expected to take command of the 104th alongside the gruff Commander Wolffe. They wade through battle after battle, trying to find their feet sharing the responsibility of leadership under Plo Koon, but what neither of their training could prepare them for was how the war would leave scars to last a lifetime.

Commander Wolffe/OC Issa Straun - Slow burn

Playlist here

AO3 Link

Posting Schedule - Fortnightly on Sundays!

Next Chapter: 24/02/23

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

#tj writes #pieces fic #commander wolffe x issa straun #commander wolffe x oc #commander wolffe x ofc #star wars #clone wars #the clone wars #tcw #commander wolffe #star wars fic #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #sw fic #sw fanfic #tcw boost #clone trooper boost #clone trooper sinker #tcw sinker #wolfpack #wolffe #plo koon #clones #clone troopers #clone trooper oc #jedi oc