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staycalmandhugaclone · 3 months

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Identity Pt 7

Part (7) of Identity, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Yuh know... there are chapters that are just so much harder to write because I elected to keep Doc unnamed... I'm standing by that decision, but that doesn't mean I won't bitch about it on occasion

Warnings: Flashbacks/PTSD, description of torture, loads of angst, reference to gore, profanity, self-deprecating thoughts

WC: 3,926

“So much for keeping that squad of yours off my back.”

He’d already removed his helmet before I’d entered, yet my gaze still settled blindly on the dark transparasteel shielded beneath the extended ridge of his visor, attention absently noting how clearly the burnt orange reflected atop the polished surface of his pale desk, and I found myself remembering the immaculate attire boasted by those at the gala, how carefully the droids had been prepared for display, void of even a scuff of dust, yet Cody had made no effort to hide the marks left upon him by war.

So much of that brilliant orange had been worn and chipped away that the rays of light adorning his chestplate were nearly unrecognizable absent the memory of how clearly they once shone. Even the base white yielded to the grey of raw composite below from constant wear and abuse. He could have it repainted or replaced, could elect for a separate set entirely to keep pristine for these moments between battles, but he stood before me with no thought wasted toward such excess. He’d earned every scar carved into flesh and armor alike, and he wore them with neither pride nor shame but with the simple acceptance that they were a part of him.

My chest hitched at the belated realization that he’d spoken, that I’d been silent long enough to prompt him to call my name with a hesitant concern, brows drawing slightly together as his head ducked slightly to study me with eyes that I knew had seen the death of thousands of brothers yet still held such kindness. I gave a quick nod, tongue slipping over my lips in preparation for a response I hadn’t yet thought of.

“I think Wolffe has more to worry about from them than you do.” I offered, body shifting back to attention as though it might make up for how heavily my voice fell in something far closer to a mutter than a proper reply. Drawing in a quick breath, I tried to force some composure over myself, determined to dispel the commander’s worries.

“The initial stage of the mission went smoothly – I met with the contact and acquired the datachip, and reported a significant portion of the Separatist defenses to Commander Wolffe through the comm in the bracelet.” Cody didn’t move as I spoke, arms relaxed at his sides, gaze still focused on me, and I found myself wondering if he was searching for any sign that I’d been compromised; that I was damaged beyond further use to the GAR and unfit to return to my unit, and that thought was enough to send my heart racing, nerves lighting with fresh anxiety until my fingers tensed with the need to fidget.

“You’re not on trial here.” He murmured suddenly, and I froze, unsure if I felt caught – trapped – or if I could allow myself a taste of comfort offered in the gentleness of his voice, the softness of his eyes. Still, I cursed the way my breath threatened to shake. “I’ve seen soldiers with more years on the battlefield than you break from that kind of torture… It’s okay to struggle with what happened.” I wanted to turn away, to hide from everything he saw when he looked at me in that moment, and I was almost shocked at the anger that warmed my chest, unsure if it stemmed from some want to prove him wrong or simply from needing to prove to myself that it hadn’t broken me.

“I appreciate that, Commander. All the same…” I knew he gleaned no reassurance from the mediated determination forced into words spoken with far more strength than I felt, but pushed myself to continue regardless. “After the exchange, I continued patrolling. A woman took notice of me.” My lips twitched into the beginnings of a scowl at my ignorance in that moment but refused to let myself stop. “I’m afraid I never got her name, but I later learned that she was the one who orchestrated the gala; that she… handpicked each of the members in attendance.” I knew Wolffe’s report would have detailed all of this; that nothing I’d told him offered new insight, but such was the nature of debriefing: hearing the same story told from different mouths in search of any sign variation, for the smallest detail that might have only been noticed by accident in the hopes that it could reveal something profound.

“She asked me to dance. I attempted to decline but came to the conclusion that doing so might draw too much attention. Afterwards, the speaker was introduced – the same woman who’d approached me. She insisted I accompany her to the podium, which I now understand was her way of keeping me from leaving. Her speech had barely started when an explosion blew out the back wall.” The scent of ozone and burnt hair lingered beneath the subtle staleness of the ship’s recycled air.

“I understand you sustained some injuries from that explosion.” He prompted after a moment’s pause, and I gave another quick nod.

“Suspected concussion, some burns and bruises.” The brief, itemized response left me absent any emotion, thoughts sifting through the snips I could only barely remember; bodies undoubtedly void of life beside those vying to escape still burning debris; screams reverberating throughout a ceiling designed to echo music not the sounds of agony filling that elaborate hall. “Maybe a dozen guards surrounded the speaker. I couldn’t see her status, but she must have been alert enough to talk. One of them approached me. I was too disoriented to move, and they sedated me.”

I didn’t notice that he’d moved until he called my name, eyes flicking back up to find him now seated in the chair behind his desk, and part of me recognized exactly what he was doing; wanted to snap at him for thinking I needed such a rote example of physical de-escalation, shout my insult at his hope that some ancient part of my brain would recognize his laxed stance and find enough comfort in it that I might mimic him, but I could feel how quickly my heart raced, noted the stiff movement of my chest around too-shallow breaths, and I knew why he’d felt the need to try.

My gaze dropped to the chair beside me, hand hesitantly shifting to rest atop the pale plastoid. I imagined myself pulling it out enough to slip into the seat, thought of what posture might be most appropriate when finding oneself across from one of the highest ranking members of the GAR, and then I remembered how my body had strained against the reclined seat in that filthy cell, robbed of leverage and hope and autonomy, and I quietly let my hand return to my side.

“I’m not sure how long I was unconscious.” I continued as though nothing had happened, pointedly forcing my attention back to him. “I was restrained when I woke up. A man was already attempting to interrogate me. I-” My voice caught, jaw freezing at the memory of his callused fingers gripping me hard enough for the bone to ache. Breath fleeing lightly parted lips in a huff, I couldn’t keep myself from turning away once more, studying walls not tarnished with dirt and blood and all manner of nightmares.

“He wanted to know who was responsible for the explosion, then asked general things about me: my name, where I’m from.”

“What did you tell him?” I didn’t even try to look at him again, though I couldn’t dismiss my reluctant gratitude at how quietly he spoke, how free his voice was of any judgement or disappointment. My head shook before I could form an actual answer.

“I didn’t… I didn’t say anything.” The words felt weird as they dragged up my throat, as though my body was going through the motions of speech before my mind could anticipate the sensation of anything other than the burn of frigid water. “Then he put a cloth over my head.” I didn’t want to hear it. “Turned on a… spigot or… I don’t know – I couldn’t see where the water came from.” But my lips kept moving despite how my chest threatened to lock around what precious air filled my lungs. “He didn’t… It wouldn’t stop.” I remembered not being able to tell up from down as that icy liquid poured over me, remembered that first rush of true panic.

Again, Cody called my name, but that earlier softness was gone, replaced with something firmer, commanding, and it was just enough to rip my attention away from the deafening sound of crashing water. He wasn’t sitting anymore, stance rigid, hand clasped about the corner of his desk as though he’d paused midway to me.

“I want you to take a slow breath and tell me where we are.” He ordered, and only then did I realize how quickly my diaphragm bucked with rushed gasps. Shame sent heat up my neck and across my cheeks as I caught my lip between my teeth in an effort to force some control back over myself. Still, it took several seconds before I could bring myself to speak, breathing only just quieting.

“The Negotiator.” I answered roughly, unable to hide the annoyance in my voice, the disdain for my own weakness, but he drew no attention to either as he visibly eased the tension from his stance.

“Good.” There was no trace of condescension in that murmured word, and something about that left me feeling even more defeated, shoulders innately trying to tuck into my chest. “We’ll stop there for now. Take a day. Tend your injuries. We can finish this later.” My teeth ground against the violent rebuke sitting atop my tongue, mind balking at the thought of delaying this, of trying to walk away with that impending conversation looming over me.

“I’m fine. We can finish this now.” I stated firmly, expression pinched into something I hoped illustrated my determination rather than my fear. He didn’t respond for several, long seconds, but finally yielded with a slow exhale before motioning me to continue. I had to swallow back the stiffness in my throat, resettle the weight between my feet to convince my back to straighten.

“I was rendered unconscious.” Empty words, carefully void of all trace of emotion lest they cripple me. “The cloth was still over my eyes when I came to. The man immediately attempted to question me again – asking my name, who I worked with.” My head flinched at the ghost of water droplets hitting my forehead. “He repeatedly demanded I tell him who ordered the attack and who the primary target was.”

“Did you tell him about Commander Wolffe’s presence there?” Again, his voice fell into a gentle whisper, tiptoeing around the edge of pushing me too far, and part of me tried to remember that I should have rebelled against being coddled like that, but I merely shook my head in reply. “What did you tell him?” He asked softly. Something shouted at me to remain silent – to say nothing lest I reveal everything.

“I don’t know.” I muttered, faltering thoughts straining to remember who I was speaking with despite the rancid scent of filth filling the room that was somehow too light and too dark at the same time. “I… I said I didn’t know.” I clarified, neck seizing as I tried to swallow against the sudden dryness of my mouth. “And he’d… every time I did, he’d…” I choked around an attempt to clear my throat, eyelids straining to blink away the memory of that black fabric trapping me in utter darkness. “He’d pull the mask back down and… he’d wait until I was just about to pass out before turning the water off.” Something about my voice sounded wrong… drawn too thin… like my lungs were being stretched, squeezed.

“Did you tell him anything about the GAR’s involvement? Or the contact you were sent to meet with?” Again, I merely shook my head, unsure if my eyes were closed or if I’d feel that harsh fabric upon drawing my fingers over my face, and the sensation of cloth against my skin ruined me.

In an instant, my torso curled forward, hand clawing at my hair to rip away that wretched sack, my other arm thrashing against whatever held it trapped to my chest in sharp, desperate jerks that sent agony tearing through the joint. I couldn’t understand that the cloth I’d felt was from my own glove, that my arm was held fast by a split rather than those cruel restraints; that the frigid liquid soaking into my blacks was sweat as panic ripped all memory of thought from my mind.

The depth of familiarity that should have accompanied the voice echoing around me was muted beneath how violently my heart slammed against my ribs, the wheezed keening of frantic breaths stolen in what little time I knew lingered before that putrid water would again fill my lungs.

Something touched my arm, and my body reacted in a feral rush of terror, legs snapping out to launch myself away with enough force to nearly rip that coveted air from me at the powerful impact of my back slamming into the wall, and still I felt myself straining to escape, to vanish, feet pressing into the front of my boots until my toes ached.

“…otiator… safe…” Snips of words that held no meaning echoed amidst demands screaming from the shadows, questions I couldn’t answer laced between an icy guilt of knowing I was no better than the man torturing me.

“…eed you t…”

I couldn’t tell who was screaming, stomach churning at the scent of flesh burnt by blaster fire and explosions, and I sobbed at the knowledge that nothing I could do would get the bleeding to stop in time, that I deserved the hatred in his eyes in that first moment that understanding dawned on him even as his life slipped through my fingers.

“…member where… not…”

The shriek of my pistol morphed into his cries, and I realized I’d never bothered to note where his fingers had fallen, only felt the relief of watching him tumble closer and closer to breaking, to telling me what I needed to know, and I felt sickened at the certainty that the man in that cell had felt that same exhilaration granted by what self-deception promised us that fault lie only with the one refusing to answer our questions… how easy it was to believe that our cruelty was justified…

My body shied from a touch I should have known without thought, deaf to gentle words and blind to the concern darkening eyes I’d found comfort in so many times before. In that moment, however, I couldn’t remember the safety once so inherent to his presence, nerves screaming with a terror I had no hope of freeing myself from. He didn’t shy in the face of my panic, touch following me with a quiet persistence untainted by the impatient indifference that had left my jaw bruised and tugged so roughly at the sack clinging to my face between shouted questions, and, for that reason only, I found myself hesitating.

Trembling violently against a chill that no longer sank into my bones from fabric left soaked by hours of torture, I found myself again trying to find something beyond the memory of that almost perfect darkness, wide eyes darting all around for some glimpse of a reality that was lost to me.

“…d… don’t kn… I… I don’t know…” Was that my voice?

“Shh, just look at me, Doc.” Something swept carefully along the ridge of my cheekbone, and I felt myself flinch sharply away even as my mind longed to cling to the tenderness of that touch.

“N… I-I d…” Ruined, broken fragments of pleading words that I knew would bring me no relief stammered from lips shaking too violently to attempt real speech. Someone called my name, and I felt myself sob at the fleeting warmth laced through a smoky voice I so desperately wanted to remember.

“Just look at me, cyare… I’m right here…” I could feel the heat of his words washing over my cheek. There was no lingering stench of stale beer nor rancid sweat, no overwhelming taste of copper from old blood, and that didn’t make sense amidst the certainty of what nightmares engulfed me. “Good… that’s good…” He murmured, fingers shifting ever so slightly through my hair, and I couldn’t fight the shiver that swept down my spine. “I want you to try to breathe with me, Doc… nice and slow…” Was I looking at him? I couldn’t tell. My head swam, vision too blurry to make out more than churning colors… but… even that was different, brighter than the devouring darkness that had robbed me of all sense of self.

I vaguely understood that I was still pinning myself against the wall, fingers tangled into my hair as though it might keep that mask from blinding me again, that I’d slid down so far as to nearly be curled in a ball against the corner; that the man speaking so gently to me had lowered himself onto a knee at my side, callused hands delicate in how he cradled my face between them, how he wordlessly wiped away the line of tears falling from my eyes, and I somehow noted the slow rise of shoulders broadened by that familiar, dark armor illustrating his own mediated breaths.

“Come on, Doc… breathe.” It wasn’t a command. He was begging me. There was a whisper of logic reminding me of the dangers of hyperventilating – the way that imbalance of oxygen and carbon dioxide impairs cognitive function, how it increases blood pH and causes systemic upheaval; remembered that he could hear how quickly my heart was racing, smell the adrenaline flooding my veins. My hand tentatively shifted, fingertips just skimming the thick tendons lining his wrist, and I saw how quickly he stilled at my touch.

“H… Hunter?” I could barely whisper his name, only then realizing my eyes had locked onto his, and the way his body sank with a relief that should have left me ashamed only worked to further drive away dreams that I knew would haunt me for years to come. In that moment, though, I allowed myself to focus only on the man before me as his hand trailed lightly through my hair.

“Yeah… Yeah, it’s me.” He sighed, shifting his weight thoughtlessly in silent invitation, and I needed no further incentive, feet scrambling even as my legs folded uselessly beneath me, hand abandoning his wrist in favor of darting toward him for my arm to lock around the back of his neck in an effort to drag me closer. He didn’t hesitate, embrace instantly drawing me flush against his chest, and I sobbed at the familiar earthiness of his scent.

“I’ve got you, cyare… I’ve got you.” Another shiver tore through me at the warmth of his words fluttering atop my scalp, and I pressed myself harder against him because of it, the hand still trapped by that splint latching uselessly about the lip of his armor. “Alright… Just breathe, Doc… You’re alright…” How could I not melt into his touch at the softness in his voice, air fleeing me in a shuttered huff before forcing some steadiness into the next inhale, if only to hear the quiet “Good” whisper past his lips once more.

He made no effort to rush me as that panic gradually quelled, moving only to ease me closer against him as he leaned back to unfurl his leg, and I tried to ignore the static prickling up my own legs at nerves reawakened by the subtle change. I wondered if he was listening to the gradual slowing of my heart, if he was torn between the want to ask endless questions I was too frightened to answer or if he was too busy pushing back plumes of anger that the mission had clearly gone so wrong, forcing him to pick up the pieces… and then I felt that shame.

Body tensing, I couldn’t help but pull away from him slightly, head falling to my chest as my teeth burred into my lip. I could see his attention shift, gaze studying me expectantly though he kept purposefully silent. Cheeks warming as understanding finally dawned on me, as I realized just how deeply I’d broken and where, I stole only a quick glance around us, half expecting to find Cody watching with arms crossed about his chest and a knowing darkness in his eyes, but I saw no one else in the room.

“Cody’s outside with Wolffe.” Hunter explained quietly, and my brows drew together in confusion.

“Wolffe?” I asked, voice still too unsteady to keep from breaking.

“Cody called us both. I just got here first.” He explained, thumb absently dancing against my back. I took a moment to make sense of his words before a tiny huff of laughter escaped me, and my arms instantly tightened around him once more, but this time the gesture was driven by an affection I couldn’t bring myself to try to explain. I knew how far away the hanger was; could guess how much time had passed since I’d said my farewells to my old Commander, and I didn’t doubt just how hard Hunter had pushed himself if he reached me before Wolffe could.

At that, he paused slightly before returning the embrace. While that brief note of mirth was a desperately needed reprieve, it quickly ceded in light of the still wretched truth evident in the very need that had brought him so swiftly to me. I’d crumbled beneath the weight of all the horrors I’d done in those past weeks, beneath the horrors that had been done to me. There was no hiding from that truth; no means of denying the display of devastation and fear that had overcome me in front of the damn Marshall Commander himself… and a new fear brought back the ghostly chill that was so eager to whisper through my chest.

“Is… is Cody going to…” I couldn’t finish, my tentative grasp on control already threatening to cave at the mere thought of being discharged from the GAR because of this. It took him a moment to understand what I was asking, but then he answered me absent hesitation or doubt.

“No.” He leaned back just enough to meet my eyes, hand cupping the back of my head to keep my gaze turned toward him that I might see the conviction fueling his words. “He knows things have been… hard lately… and then this… but he’s leaving that decision up to me, and I’m not ready to let you go yet… Not unless that’s what you want.” He added, head ducking down slightly in an unspoken question. Unable to even try to respond, I quickly shook my head, overwhelmed by a relief I hadn’t begun to let myself hope for. He let out a carefully slowed breath before pulling me against him once more, and I finally managed to feel the stretch of air filling my lungs, the warmth of a safety somehow still untouched by a lifetime of terror, and I knew I would never be able to find the words to tell him just how much he meant to me, how desperately I needed him, so I merely hugged him harder.

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thevibraniumveterans · 5 months

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REBELS REWATCH

S2E3 — THE LOST COMMANDERS

Back on board Phoenix Home, Sabine and Hera stand at the centre console, on either side of a live holoprojection of Sato. This episode, Sabine sports a different look — her hair color, once indigo with orange tips, is now navy blue fading into a teal green; instead of short sleeves as she had previously worn under her armor, her jumpsuit now features longer sleeves; the pad on her left shoulder is now purple instead of orange and the one on her right shoulder now has the number 5 referencing her callsign; her wrist gauntlets, once pink, are now orange. Perhaps, due to the blaster dings she acquired last episode, she might have decided to change things up a bit, for aesthetic’s sake. As Sato speaks, Ezra and Kanan walk into the command centre; the teenager dips his head as he nears the console. As a response to Sato noting the severe limitations of going into battle with a halfway broken ship, Ezra speaks up, correcting his manners halfway through: “Maybe we don’t fight, uh, Commander Sato, Sir.” He offers an awkward salute; Sabine shakes her head slightly. (She might be reminding herself of how her background and upbringing is vastly different than that of Ezra’s; he grew up on the streets of Lothal while she had a home, a family, and a school to go to.) Ezra looks up at Sato and continues, “Uh, when things got tough for me on Lothal, I’d go find some place to hide.” Sato notes that Ezra is “never shy” with his opinions, and suggests that “establishing a base is a good idea.” Hera is faced with a dilemma: “Problem is, none of the potential bases we know of have the tactical advantage we need to protect what’s left of our fleet.” Kanan approaches, and continues, “Or aid the nearby systems suffering from Imperial oppression.” Hera tells him, “We can’t help others if we can’t help ourselves. …If only we had more allies…” During this whole exchange, Ahsoka stands by a wall behind Ezra and Sabine, both of whom turn around when Ahsoka speaks up: “I know someone who might be able to help us. A great military commander with a vast knowledge of the Outer Rim. He could assist us in finding a base. And his experienced leadership would make him a powerful ally.” Sato wonders about this mystery man, but Ahsoka notes that she “lost track of him” ages ago, with all her transmissions going “unanswered”. Ezra leans to the side, peering around Sato’s live beam-in, saying, “We can find him. Let us try.” Beside him, Sabine looks hopeful at her friend’s optimism. Ahsoka notes that “there is one option” she’s not tried yet.

Back on the Ghost, Sabine leads Ezra and Kanan back into the pilot’s bay, where Hera and Chopper already are. Sabine takes a seat behind Hera, while Ezra sits in the chair next to it that Sabine has previously preferred enough to paint. Also, it looks like Era might have added a few things to his on-person inventory — a pouch on his left, and a holster for his saber on his right, both hanging from his belt. Anyway, Ahsoka walks in with a droid’s head, which Kanan easily remembers and identifies. Ahsoka more or less confirms it, and speaks fondly of her past, saying that the droid was able to find her and Anakin (unnamed at this point, of course) when they did not want to be located. Ahsoka hands the droid’s head to Sabine, who inspects it curiously. (Which is the exact same thing that would happen many years from now within the first few episodes of the Ahsoka series.) Ezra is also curious; he leans over and asks, “How in all the galaxy is that droid gonna find your friend?” Ahsoka says her friend was last seen in “the Seelos system. You can start there”. Ezra gets up from his seat and asks, “You’re not coming with us?” Ahsoka responds, saying that she’d be busy elsewhere, attending to “questions that need answering” regarding Vader. These questions are more of a personal nature. Ezra, having experienced that unfortunate duel with Vader, wishes to accompany Ahsoka, but she says, “You have your own mission, Ezra. And, Kanan, if you find my friend, you must trust him.” Ezra looks up at Kanan, who responds with, “If he’s all the things you say, we can’t afford not to.” Ahsoka reiterates once more before the door closes: “Trust him.” Ezra raises an eyebrow: “What was that about?” Kanan hasn’t a clue.

The Ghost exits hyperspace in the Seelos system. The Spectres, minus Hera and Chopper (both of whom remain onboard the Ghost to carry out necessary repairs), descend in the Phantom to the planet Seelos. It is a desert planet, with nothing but, well, nothing for miles around. While Ezra stands by Kanan at the pilot’s chair, Sabine, still holding the droid’s head, powers it on and places it on the console in front of Kanan. The droid warbles; Sabine guesses that “it’s scanning for a signal of some kind.” (Side note; while this episode is titled “The Lost Commanders”, Ezra would by the end of S4 earn the rank of Commander and proceed to quite literally get lost in a whole other galaxy. Though this could be a reach and quite possibly nothing more than a mere coincidence, Ahsoka would not be the first time that Sabine had gone looking for a lost commander.) Ezra, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, says, “Good luck. You could really get lost out here.” Zeb, nearby, doesn’t sound too encouraging either: “Maybe that was the idea. What if this great commander we’re looking for doesn’t want to be found?” Ezra looks uncertain, and turns back to face the droid’s head, which suddenly starts chiming a number, “7567,” which it repeats a few times. Sabine points out the obvious: “It’s homing in on something.” Zeb notices something, and points out the windshield: “There. Up ahead.” The Phantom closes in on their target; an odd and slow-moving transport contraption. It turns out to be a heavily modified All terrain Tactical Enforcer (AT-TE) vehicle. Ezra is fascinated; Sabine, on the other hand, is impressed: “Now, that is a work of art.” Kanan says that it “looks like an old Republic tank…used during the Clone Wars.”

Kanan circles the Phantom on front of the transport once to ensure they are seen, before setting down behind said transport. Kanan warns Ezra to “be on guard”. The teenager raises an eyebrow, shrugs, and follows him, Sabine, and Zeb out of the Phantom. They approach the transport, which has come to a halt; wind chimes gently dinging in the breeze. The transport clearly looks like it has seen better days; its railings are rusted, its roof replaced by shoddy sheet metal; the whole thing nothing more than an inconspicuous scrap of junk. Three Clone Wars veterans — Rex, Wolffe, and Gregor — step outside their transport to greet the Spectres; Zeb is clearly unimpressed: “It’s just a bunch of old geezers.” Sabine notes that they are “well-armed”. Rex asks what the Spectres want, and Kanan tells him, “We’re looking for someone.” Rex snarks back, “Well, that’s too bad, ‘cause there’s nobody out here.” Ezra, remembering the repeated code from earlier, asks: “Hey, uh, does the number 7567 mean anything to you?” Rex is taken aback and demands clarification. Surprised by the veterans’ reaction, Ezra repeats himself, stammering: “Uh, I-I said 7567.” Rex looks off into the distance, noting that he hasn’t “heard those digits in…” years, and reveals that he was assigned that number at creation. Ezra is confused by this; Kanan says that “they’re clones”, and ignites his lightsaber, ready to jump into combat. (Side note; Kanan is a survivor of Order 66, in which the clones who had accompanied him and his master turned on them. Kanan carries this trauma with him, hence his reaction.) Ezra reaches out and tries to prevent any rash action: “Kanan, wait. Stop!” Likewise, Wolffe is surprised, takes aim, and fires: “Jedi. They’ve come for revenge.” Kanan deflects a few blasts, prompting Zeb and Sabine to raise their own weapons at the veterans. Gregor, a bit of a wild card himself, readies his own weapon; Rex orders him and Wolffe to “stand down, trooper. Now. That’s an order, solider.” Wolffe thinks the Jedi were the betrayers, but Rex knows better. Behind Kanan, Ezra reminds: “Ahsoka said to trust them.” Rex tries to joke about the situation, effectively defusing it, and apologizes for the “weapons malfunction”, explaining Wolffe’s defensiveness and saying that he and his two friends “haven’t seen a Jedi since” a decade and half ago. Ezra reassuringly pats Kanan on the back and steps forward, introducing himself and the Spectres. Kanan retracts his saber in response. Ezra gestures first to himself: “Well, my name’s Ezra.” Behind him, the crew lower their weapons, and he gestures to them in turn: “This is Kanan. That’s Sabine and Zeb. I-it’s nice to meet you, 7567.” The veteran responds in kind, introducing himself and his friends: “Actually, my name is Rex. Captain, 501st Clone Battalion. Meet Commanders Gregor and Wolffe.” Ezra says, “We were sent by Ahsoka Tano.” Rex is surprised: “Ahsoka Tano, Hm. I fought by her side from the Battle of Christophsis to the Siege of Mandalore. And a friend of hers is a friend of mine.” Ezra is amazed at this bit of information.

The Spectres are invited onto the transport; Ezra, not even a few paces in, notices three helmets belonging to the veterans. In complete awe, he picks up Rex’s helmet to get a better look. Rex reminds him to go “easy with those”. Ezra snarks back good-naturedly: “Oh, yeah. I might move the dust.” He puts the helmet down. Sabine, on the other hand, removes her helmet upon walking in. Rex sighs and asks, “How is Commander Tano?” Looking first from Kanan and Sabine before addressing Rex again, Ezra tries the door-in-the-face technique, saying, “Uh, well, in need of help. We all are. Look, we’re trying to fight the Empire, but we’re outnumbered, overmatched and taking a beating. We could use your help.” Rex notes of his own retirement, “Well, I’m not sure I’m much help to anyone these days.” He crosses his arms, and explains, “Didn’t you hear? The Emperor said the clone army has our served its purpose and retired us. Now we spend our days just telling stories and slinging for joopas.” Kanan, disillusioned, speaks up from the back: “This was a wasted trip. You heard the clone. He’s not interested.” Ezra tries again: “Wait. You don’t like the Empire, do you?” Rex says that it “certainly isn’t the Republic” but isn’t optimistic. Ezra says, “You could fight.” Rex apologizes, saying his “days as a soldier are over.” Not wanting to give up, Ezra tries the foot-in-the-door compliance technique, saying, “Well, okay. Okay, then maybe there’s one thing you can help us with. We need a base. Ahsoka said you knew about all sorts of secret locations in the Outer Rim.” Rex glances at his buddies before replying: “Well, my memory isn’t what it once was, but, um—” He stands up. “—there are a few spots I never bothered to report to the Empire. Look, why don’t you just wait outside and I’ll put together a list of coordinates.” Ezra turns around and starts heading out, following Zeb and Sabine.

It is merely a minute or two since the Spectres stepped outside the room. Kanan stares blankly out to the horizon; Sabine leans backward by the railing, propped up by her elbows; Ezra sits on a slanted ledge just by the doorway, his expression unreadable. (Though it is unclear where Sabine is looking, it seems as if though Ezra is either looking at her or just beyond her shoulder.) Gregor steps outside, offering them a proposition: “Since we’re providing you with a list of bases, um—” This catches Ezra’s attention. “—there’s something you can do to help us.” Kanan turns down the offer, but Ezra is optimistic: “Sure. What can we do?” Gregor walks forward and replies, “Out there, deep below, roam the joopa. Elusive big game.” He chuckles as Ezra approaches, and continues, “When we’re lucky to sling one in, it’ll feed us for the whole year.” Sabine is curious: “Okay. What do you need?” Gregor grins, and points to Zeb.

The Phantom is parked backwards atop the transport, which is on the move again. Ezra finds Kanan aboard the Phantom, and remarks, “Okay. You don’t trust these clones but they haven’t done anything.” Ezra does not have the context, having been born the day the Empire was formed. Kanan, clearly recalling how he narrowly made his escape many years prior, says, “You don’t understand. They’re dangerous. They could—” Ezra interrupts: “They could what? Rex doesn’t seem bad at all. Ahsoka said to trust him. You trust her, don’t you?” Kanan shoots back, “You weren’t there, You weren’t even born.” Ezra is confused: “What are you talking about?” Kanan does not want to talk about it; slightly dejected, Ezra walks off. Kanan picks up on the teenager’s confusion, and begrudgingly admits: “It was at the end, the end of the war.” Ezra turns around. Kanan continues, “Our fellow soldiers, the clones, the ones we Jedi fought side by side with, suddenly turned and betrayed us. I watched them kill my master.” Ezra, shocked as he is at this revelation, glances downward, frowning. Kanan goes on, “She fought beside them for years and they gunned her down in a second and then came for me. Later, they said they had chips in their heads that made them do it. Said they had no choice.” Rex, having come by and overheard the conversation, offers his perspective: “I didn’t betray my Jedi. Wolffe, Gregor, and I all removed our control chips.” He points to the scar on the side of his head, before saying, “We all have a choice.” He walks off. Ezra turns back to Kanan and tells him, “Well, for what it’s worth, I believe we can trust Rex.” Ezra turns back around and walks out of the Phantom, leaving Kanan to his thoughts. The teenager descends a short ladder, and finds Sabine standing at the end of an external walkway. Careful to not bump into her on the swaying transport, Ezra makes his way over to Gregor, ducking under a cannon as he goes. The trio watch Zeb down at ground level. Sabine spots something in the distance, pointing to it: “Out there!” Rex instructs Wolffe to bring the transport to a halt, which he does. Over the next few minutes, Ezra realizes — no thanks to Gregor’s ramblings — that Zeb is “not the hunter. He’s the bait.” Gregor doesn’t see the difference; behind him, Ezra throws his hands up in frustration. Kanan disagrees, saying “it’s not” the same, and warns Zeb to “better get back here right now.” Sabine asks Zeb what it is, and Ezra chimes in with another warning, “Buddy, run! You’re the bait! Zeb, it’s gonna eat you!” The ground cracks with increasing speed toward the group as a whole. Ezra, Sabine, and Kanan yell out to Zeb to get away as soon as he can, but he gets pulled under by a mysterious appendage. Wolffe gets the modified AT-TE transport on the move again; Rex addresses Sabine, saying, “Hey, I bet you know a thing or two about mechanics.” She looks up, and confirms it with a smile: “Yeah, good bet.” She heads up the ladder. Rex advises her to “keep an eye on this regulator.” He points at the item in question, explaining that “the line can overheat and shut down. No line, no joopa, no Zeb.” Sabine says, “Got it.” At the front of the transport, Ezra turns around and wonders, “Well, what about me and him?” Gregor instructs Ezra and Kanan to charge the electro-wire a few times. The transport comes to a halt, and Ezra uses the staff to reach for the wire but is not quite able to reach it. He calls out to Sabine, who is all the way at the top of the transport by the regulator Rex pointed out earlier, working on fixing it. She gets it fixed, and Kanan kick-flips his borrowed staff up to Ezra, who uses both staves to charge the wire.

The massive creature beneath the sands rears up out of the ground; Rex fires a single shot and the animal collapses onto its side. Having done his part, Zeb tells Kanan of his triumphant success. Ezra gives Zeb a thumbs up, and turns around as Rex approaches him and says, “And you are a natural.” Kanan wants to get a receive those coordinates and get a move on; Rex suggests staying for dinner. Ezra couldn’t agree more: “Can’t say no to that. Right, Kanan?”

Sunset. Or what passes for a sunset on Seelos anyway. On the transport, both Sabine and Ezra stand outside the transport’s door, each somewhat leaning on the railing, lost in their own thoughts. Both turn around when Rex steps outside and informs them he’s “assembled a list of potential bases and clearance codes and a few protocols the Imperials still use. Should be of some use.” Ezra thanks him. Rex notes, “They’re on our main computer. You’re gonna need—” Sabine already knows the required items are “Data tapes? I’ve got this.” She briskly brushes past Rex and through the door. Rex chooses to not comment on that, and instead, approaches Ezra and commends him: “You were brave today, kid. You jumped right in there to help.” They turn around and lean on the railing. Rex continues, “A great Jedi once told me that the best leaders lead by example. You do that well.” Ezra humbly accepts the praise, saying, “Thanks. I’ve learned from a great Jedi, too. Kanan.” Ezra turns to the man in question, who chooses to stare out into the horizon. Rex agrees, but notes, “You know, I don’t think he likes me. Or ever will.” Ezra frowns and turns to Rex, who continues, “Can’t say I blame him. The war left its scars on all of us.” Curious, the teenager asks, “Won’t you reconsider joining us?” Rex is pensive: “You know, I’ve outserved my purpose for that kind of fighting, I’m afraid. After the war, I questioned the point of the whole thing. All those men died, and for what?” (In real life, there are veterans who question why they even fought for wars they could never have won, they question why so many of their friends and comrades die. To have Rex so blatantly state his distaste for war is a reflection and almost certainly a callback to George Lucas’ own thoughts on the Vietnam War and how he based Star Wars around that, where grassroots rebels with budget weapons go up against a more established imperial power with armies and militaries at their behest.) Ezra isn’t so sure either: “I guess what they thought was right.” (From a certain point of view, this statement is true, but none of them could really have known their true purpose.)

During this conversation, Sabine has stepped inside. She pushes a few buttons and waits for the expected response, but frowns in suspicion. She steps back outside, announcing, “The clones gave us up. They warned the Empire we’re here.” Ezra is in disbelief, given his conversation with Rex: “Wait, what?” Rex says, “You’re mistaken. We would never do that.” Sabine shows him the datapad: “Oh, I found the binary transmission to the Empire. And there are messages Ahsoka sent to Rex and he never answered her!” Rex is astounded and taken aback: “What? I never got any messages from Commander Tano.” Kanan overhears and thinks the clones can’t be trusted, but Ezra wants to know the full story before anything drastic happens. He turns to Rex and asks, “Is this true?” Rex, for his part, turns to Wolffe: “What did you do?” Wolffe admits to contacting the Empire, reasoning, “If they found out that we were helping Jedi, they’d wipe us out.” Behind them, Kanan instructs Sabine to “warn Hera. Tell her to scan for incoming ships.” Ezra watches the exchange before him in confusion. Wolffe says that he “wanted to protect you guys, protect our squad.” Rex reminds him, “The war is over. We are free men. We can’t live under the fear of the Empire for the rest of our lives, Wolffe. That’s not freedom.” Ezra remains standing there. Wolffe begrudgingly agrees and apologizes: “They’re not our enemy. I’m sorry.” Sabine reaches the Phantom and discovers “A probe?” She narrowly dodges a laser shot and calls for Kanan, who heads down with his blaster. Ezra, on the other hand, fetches a long range rifle and tosses it up to Rex, telling him, “You gotta make this right.” Rex shoulders the rifle and takes aim; Ezra, on the other hand, steps onto a rung of the ladder behind him and watches. Rex fires, and the probe shorts out before exploding. Ezra is all smiles. From a nearby ledge, Sabine grins and congratulates the veteran: “Nice shot.” Ezra looks on as Rex exchanges a single look with Kanan, who walks off; the teenager watches Rex walk away.

Later that evening, Ezra, Kanan, Zeb, and Rex stand around the smoking heap that is the probe droid from earlier. Sabine approaches the group. Ezra wonders, “How long as this thin green watching us?” Kanan responds, “Long enough.” He turns to Sabine: “How’s the Phantom?” Sabine reports: “Well, engine took a direct hit. We’re not going anywhere until I can fix it.” Zeb realizes this means they’re all stranded until further notice; Rex solemnly agrees, and notes, “and the Empire’s on its way.” Unsettled, Ezra looks to the skies above them, and the others do the same.

#star wars #star wars rebels #rebels rewatch #ezra bridger #sabine wren #hera syndulla #kanan jarrus #garazeb orrelios #captain rex #commander wolffe #ahsoka tano #sabezra #ezrabine #my notes

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kosher-martian · 2 months

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I put the "plague" in "Plagueis the Wise".

I'm stuck at home with covid and absolutely miserable.

This is the second time I've had muh-muh-my corona. My (then) boss gave it to me the first time. I got a paxlovid script and felt better after a week. This time I got it from... somewhere (it's making rounds at work), I was denied a paxlovid script on the grounds that I'm "too young". Every day I've felt worse and worse.

Right now I'm battling the coughing, the wheezing, the shortness of breath and on top of that this strange sensation that's a lot like wearing a pair of grade school science class goggles that are waaaaay too tight. My face hurts and I feel queasy despite not being sick at my stomach, if that somehow makes any sense?

But enough about me, let's talk Star Wars!

I've been watching The Bad Batch recently and I love it! I'm close to the end of Season 2. It is a concentrated dose of that... unnameable special something the '08 Clone Wars exudes sometimes. I've also been watching the Prequels and the '03 Clone Wars. It's weird seeing pre-2008 Prequel media and how different the vibes really were. Go and watch the two Clone Wars shows back to back and tell me the vibe wasn't completely different pre-2008. The '08 Clone Wars is wonderful, don't get me wrong, but it very much changed the conversation and the way we think about and discuss that era (both in-universe and out-of-universe) of Star Wars.

I guess the word I would use is "sobering"? Pre-2008 Prequel media was all about the righteousness of the war, the unquestionable moral highground of the Jedi, and (most importantly) pew pew get those droids! Post 2008 there's this somber reckoning with the tragedy of war, the moral decay and dogmatism and degeneration at the heart of the Jedi Order, and (most importantly) oh god that wasn't a Separatist stronghold that was an orphanage for orphaned orphans what have I done!?!

If you have Disney+ or the DVDs or enjoy - ahem - sailing, I strongly suggest you check out the '03 Clone Wars show. If you weren't born yet, were too young, or just never watched it when it was on Cartoon Network (or whatever channel it was on outside the USA) it will be a complete 180 from what you are used to. If you grew up with it and haven't watched it in a while, I invite you to re-watch it and feel the revertigo (aka associative regression) overwhelm your senses. It's not nostalgia, it's stronger than that. You will be reduced to your 2003/2004/2005 self and either you will be horrified or delighted. It's the closest to time travel you can get.

#star wars #the clone wars #clone wars #clone wars 2003 #the bad batch #covid #covid 19 #coronavirus #covid rant

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meltherebel22 · 7 months

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Unnamed Clone: *Staring at Prep*

Unnamed Clone Confused: "What are you doing?"

Prep Being Sassy: "I'm painting my nails, what does it look like?"

Unnamed Clone: *stares*

Prep: *Locks eyes and stares back*

Unnamed Clone: . . .

Prep: *Lifts hand and licks wet nail polish off paint nail while glaring*

Unnamed Clone: *Sighs*

Later on the battlefield

Prep: *Screaming and crying in the distance like he lost a limb but he didn't and instead a droid chipped his nail polish*

After The Battle

Prep: *Won the battle because he lost his shit*

———————

This is my first clone oc! He is a medic and part of the ‘Dinji Squad’ that I’m currently working on!

#dinji squad

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solrika · 2 years

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I wanted to populate the Jedi and Sith AU a little more, so~

On Zeb’s side, we have:

- His master Vokara Che, head of the Halls of Healing. Canon character (for a given value of canon). There’s basically no info for her other than “blue Twi’lek” that I could easily find, so I’m making everything up. Very calm, very steady under pressure. Zeb inherited his caffeine addiction from her.

- Bant Eerin, a master in the Halls of Healing. Canon character, grew up with Obi-wan, not much else info on Wookiepedia. A Mon Calamari! Kinda like an aunt for Zeb. Was the one to introduce him to alcohol. Laughed at him the first time he had a hangover, and then taught him how to cure it. Didn’t teach him how to swim, but did attend the lesson as “life guard.”

- Spindle, former clone trooper who’s studying to be a medical masseuse in the Halls. Non canon, which makes them my first clone OC! Never wants to return to combat. Shaky hands left over from nerve damage in the shoulder.

They fell into medical massage while serving as Zeb’s “babysitter.” Vokara’s too busy to constantly mind her padawan, but it was important that she had someone to keep an eye on him and provide emotional support in the moment. They’re called Spindle because part of their self-soothing tool box is, well, spinning. Now they’re on an electric wheel because that’s what I use! But during deployment, it was on drop spindles.

Spindle has definitely made yarn from Zeb’s spring shed. They also crochet. Zeb has a couple blankets from them.

- As-yet-unnamed Spindle’s batchmate, who’s part of Zeb’s service corp team as a medic. Also a clone OC. Tempted to name them Happy Pills. Zeb’s a little bad about remembering to call home, so Pills’ regular calls back to Spindle usually include something about how “the kid” is doing. The one who taught Zeb how to maintain/disassemble a blaster.

- Kanan is Caleb Dume, still, because Something Bad Happened to Sheev. What was it? I dunno, there are so many fixit fics out there. Pick one. Caleb’s still Zeb’s friend--they were crechemates--and he still finds and falls for Hera. Because love.

- Because Caleb is in Zeb’s life, Depa and Mace are also there sometimes. I dunno how much he interacts with them, but at the very least, they’re kinda like friendly distant relatives.

On Kallus’ side:

- Wulf Yularen, canon character turned Kallus’ Sith master for this AU. Had roughly a dozen apprentices and slowly whittled them down until Kallus was the only one left. Did not intend for Kallus to be the only one left, but, well. We don’t always get what we want.

- Urri Jamiil, noncanon Nautolan. Kallus’ best friend among Yularen’s apprentices. Taught him how to swim. Loved to carve. Died on Onderon. Kallus still has most of their surviving pieces in his bedroom on his flagship.

They and Kallus shared a similar moral compass, and helped keep each others’ consciences intact in their years under Yularen. Urri’s dreams for “after” drive a lot of Kallus’ post-Yularen plans.

- Osa Barill, noncanon character that you might recognize from my vampire AU. Not sure yet if she was hired by Yularen pre-Onderon, or if she was a free agent who rescued Kallus on Onderon. Either way, she’s now the commander of Kallus’ small militia. Fond of Kallus, and the closest thing he has to a parental figure, but not super demonstrative. Suspicious of Zeb, but subtle about it. No shovel talks here.

- There are definitely droids on Kallus’ ships. There’s a protocol-droid-inside-an-assassin-chassis running around somewhere. I kinda like the idea that the housekeeping staff are a bunch of battle droids leftover from the Clone Wars. Kallus’ droids are free any kind of loyalty-ensuring programming--he has very strong ideas about Freedom To Just Fucking Leave. Not sure he pays them (there’s a huge discussion about droids and personhood and “what is slavery” in the SW ‘verse to be had, but I don’t want to get into it tonight). Definitely has budget for their upkeep. Definitely has some budget set aside for self-mods like paint, ornamentation, etc. Definitely has an extra-soft-spot for the MSE droids.

- Not a character per se, but Kallus’ flagship is important to note because it’s what he considers “home.” It’s where he lives between missions, and it houses the majority of his militia. Because he prefers having long-term employees, the living areas have a definite personality to them. The flagship is rarely brought into active combat--they have other, smaller ships for that--but it is a fully operational warship.

It still needs a name.

#jedi and sith au #star wars

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mortallyclearwonderland · 2 years

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Star Wars Alien Species - Ming Po

Carlac was a snowy planet in the Outer Rim Territories. Its surface was covered in forests and mountains and its atmosphere was breathable to humans. The planet had a cold climate and was dotted with large pink cherry trees that in some instances dwarfed humans in size.

Around 21 BBY, during the Clone Wars, Pre Vizsla and his marauding Death Watch soldiers chose Carlac as their base of operations. They set up a rudimentary tent camp near a Ming Po town overseen by Chieftain Pieter. The Mandalorians raided the town for supplies, subjugated the townspeople and kidnapped the women of the town, including the chieftain's granddaughter, Tryla, to be servants in their camp. After the arrival of Lux Bonteri and Ahsoka Tano to deliver a transmission chip to the Death Watch in order to kill Dooku, Pieter arrived in the Death Watch's camp to voice his complaints with their dealings prior and demanded them to release their women the following morning. After Pre Vizsla agreed to these terms, Pieter left. Death Watch honored their deal and came to the town to release the Ming Po women, only for Pre Vizsla to immediately kill the women and order for his men to destroy the town and proceeded to burn it to the ground, saying 'Welcome to Death Watch' to Lux Bonteri as it happened. The assault on the town was cut-short by Ahsoka who revealed herself to Death Watch as a Jedi. Despite Ahsoka's intervention, after her and Lux Bonteri's escape from the planet, the Ming Po were harassed by Death Watch later on. When the 104th Battalion and a unnamed Jedi Knight arrived on Carlac to deal with the remaining battle-droids from a shot down munificent frigate from an earlier battle, Death Watch threatened the lives of a handful of Ming Po people if they did not leave the planet. It wouldn't be until after Pre Vizsla's defeat at the hands of the Jedi Knight and consequently retreat that the Ming Po would be finally be left alone from Death Watch and the Clone Wars. There were at least two villages burnt down by Death Watch, possibly three in total.

Ming Po shared many physical traits with baseline Humans, sharing the same facial structure and features, as well as having two legs, and two arms with five-fingered hands. They were shorter then their human counterparts however.

Examples of Names: Pieter, Tryla.

Language: Ming Po speak Galactic Basic Standard.

#Ming Po #star wars #star wars species #star wars aliens #star wars Ming Po

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fanfictasia · 2 years

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Whumpay Day 9

“You never listen.”

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from an unnamed fanfic.

War is a dangerous thing, it always has been, and he knows much too well how simple it is for those few still standing to go down, having lost his own master much like this. Their names, their identities blur together when they fall, unless they’re a Jedi.

He has feared losing Anakin more than once on the front, but it always seems so inconceivable, so unreal, until Anakin is on the ground in front of him. He may be young, but he’s already far more skilled than Obi-Wan was at his age. All he lacks is experience.

“Anakin,” he calls, scrambling through the rubble. Whatever droids are left are destroyed now, but his former padawan had been caught in an explosion. Obi-Wan has seen many things in battle, and even before, but it’s always worst when it’s Anakin who is hurt. His heart clenches when he sees his former padawan’s still form. He’s conscious, but he’s bleeding in a few places.

“Here,” he croaks, though it’s clearly difficult for him to speak. There’s blood on his face from a gash on his left cheek – it doesn’t look pleasant.

Obi-Wan kneels next to him, scrambling to take in the boy’s condition. They can only hope they can get through to the others soon, because Anakin is bleeding badly. He was hit in multiple places by durasteel from the explosion, his robes are singed in a few places, and he was thrown quite far.

Anakin winces slightly when Obi-Wan reaches up to press a hand to his cheek over the gash. It’s fairly deep but far smaller than the one by his eye. Anakin leans into his touch even if it must hurt. It seems to calm him at least.

“I told you to be careful,” Obi-Wan grumbles, his other hand dropping to his shoulder. “You never listen.”

“Really,” Anakin rasps. Talking hurts but he’s clearly not going to stop now any more than he ever does. “Who rushed head-on into battle?”

He has a point, but it’s not as if Obi-Wan will concede that. He had been the one to attack the droids the moment they spotted them. Anakin had seen the explosion coming before Obi-Wan, the same as he usually does, and had tackled him out of the way – which was how they got into this mess in the first place. Obi-Wan is not the least bit impressed about that. Felucia has been… a difficult battle compared to many of the others, and it’s taking its toll. Worse, it’s an important planet and not one the Republic can afford to lose. But in war, it’s hard to tell, because often the battles they can’t lose are the ones they do.

“Can you get through to the others?” Anakin asks.

“Haven’t tried again,” he replies tightly. “It’s probably still jammed.”

“Would be just our luck,” Anakin agrees.

“There’s no such thing as luck.”

Apparently, his former padawan still has the presence of mind to roll his eyes. It’s a stupid thing to argue about but it’s not as though most of what they argue over isn’t stupid.

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sw5w · 3 months

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Amidala Under Fire

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:50:56

You can see here the unnamed Naboo engineer carrying an E-5 blaster rifle, presumably stolen from a downed battle droid.

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dswcp · 2 years

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I’d share it with you, battle droid!

“Jedi of the Republic – Mace Windu.” Marvel. February 27, 2018. Writer: Matt Owens. Pencillers: Dennis Cowan and Edgar Salazar. Inker: Roberto Poggi and Scott Hanna. Letterer: Joe Caramagna. Colorist: Guru-eFX.

#star wars #star wars comics #unnamed battle droid #battle droids #the clone wars #sw prequels #marvel comics #matt owens #dennis cowan #edgar salazar #2018 #separatist #droids #beautiful planet #non-force users #so cute!!!#you're sounding like a seperatist #feelings

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princemannikin · 3 years

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The Saddest Death

During the assault against fleeing Separatist Forces on Geonosis, a young Phase I commander (four yellow dots on the left breast plate, yellow striping on arms and knees) is seen wounded and dying directly behind Kit Fisto’s strike unit. And I think it may be the saddest death in the entire series. A young commander with 10-12 years of training, in live fire scenarios, spent his whole life for this moment, gets killed after 45 seconds of actual combat. He could have been another Commander Cody, he could have been a Bly, a Wolffe, a Gree, even an Appo. Instead all he became was a Unit, two letters, a dash, and four numbers on some casualty report that probably got over looked; the list of Jedi dead being more sensational.

#star wars #star wars episode ii: attack of the clones #attack of the clones #commander #clones #unnamed clones #geonosis #battle of geonosis #kit fisto #jedi #jedis #droids #CLANKERS!#the clone wars

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duckulamoved · 4 years

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pro tip if youre going to make an army of battle droids to face off against your heros for three movies maybe dont make them unintentionally cute guys with cute voices.

theyre just little guys.

#resistance b1 is super good i love him #dont get me started on ROGR #and the unnamed defector battle droid love that guy

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demonrubberduck · 2 years

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Additional thoughts on the Boba Fett finale, in no particular order:

-Sanctuary explodes, all Sexy Twi’leks in a 10 mile radius killed. Unnamed Majordomo: ascends to The Hot Twi’lek status, apparently??

-A side note, the fact that there is a reoccurring SW character who has spoken multiple lines on screen that is somehow unnamed is WILD to me. In the OG SW universe, every background alien had a name, an action figure, and at least a cameo in an Extended Universe novel.

-They let Fennec Shand do some murders finally and that is so cash money of them.

-Boba Fett appeared in approximately 1 minute of air time in the previous two episodes and I will accept this now only because we now know that he was investing all that time into Rancorback riding lessons.

-I hope to one day show a child the same unconditional love and acceptance of Din Djarin reuniting with his gremlin son after his being expelled from boarding school and shipped back across the galaxy without even a text notification from the principal.

-I am still boggled by the plan they had at the beginning. ‘They have hundreds of fish dudes and dope droids we saw them ship in. Little nervous here, we only got like 10 dudes.’ ‘No worries, we got, like, 8-10 more dudes coming for sure maybe ;)’ ‘OH WELL IN THAT CASE, LET’S KRIFFIN GOOOOOO’

-Justice for the dummy thicc pigs, my OG ROTJ kings. The clapping of your cheeks echoed thunderously across Beggar’s Canyon as you fell. You will not be forgotten. May the Force Be With You and Only With You.

-I don’t know if Space Joan Jett should kiss Eye Mod or Freetown Country Girl, or both? Probably both.

-If Mando goes back to Tatooine in Season 2, I demand a scene with Grogu and his cousin Rancor just vibing.

-I know in my heart that some time elapsed between the battle and the wrap up scene, but for a moment, I was like, ‘Wait, did Boba jetpack away from the battle, fly to Freetown, princess-carry Vanth Cobb back to his palace to tank him, THEN mount up on the rancor and ride back into town?’

#tbobf #the book of boba spoilers #sw spoilers #bobf spoilers

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nevertheless-moving · 3 years

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Unnamed Extremely Bad Plan to Defeat Darth Sideous AU - SW AU NO 9

Hopefully writing down this star wars au will help me exorcise the cringe demon that helped midwife it. Time travel au where obi-wan and Anakin come up with an extremely SPECIFIC and UNCOMFORTABLE plan to defeat Palpatine because it unfortunately, would actually work, as it capitalizes on one of Palpatine’s easiest to reach political vulnerabilities. This is not a unique plan- there are other au’s like this, but this one is mine. When searching for ways to explain exactly why this anti-sith strategy inspires such cringe and delight in myself I realized, with sinking dread, I have seen this in an Always Sunny episode...which yeah. I might be over reacting but hey, cringe is a personal phenomenon, everyone’s different.

Anyway! Uh here’s a bunch of plot that will eventually culminate in the plan.

*Too much plot, aaaah*. **All plot actually.** ***Its 1 am and this is still a draft*** ****It’s 2am**** *****This post will be just be background I guess.*****

*******STAR WARS AU NO 9 LAZILY OUTLINED CHAPTER ONE*********

Force ghosts Darth Vader and Ben Kenobi have had time to yell at one another without need for breath, and have more-or-less come to terms with the trainwreck that was their shared life. I wouldn’t call them well adjusted, but they’re more stable then they were the last decade or so of their living existence.

In haunting Luke, they end up encountering an artifact in an ancient Willis temple that offers spirits the chance to fix the mistakes they made in life. It doesn’t truly unwrite what’s been done, but it lets you create an alternate timeline. So this galaxy will still be what it is, but some alternate galaxy somewhere could at least have it better. Its almost never been used, because becoming one with the force usually lets you accept the past, but viewed objectively, Vader and Ben’s lives involved an extreme amount of yikes. They say goodbye to Luke and are flung backwards and sideways.

Anakin is holding his mother as she dies. Obi-Wan is landing on Genosis.

Vader just barely manages to avoid slaughtering the tuskens. To be honest, he doesn’t really get why he shouldn’t- his moral compass is still pretty f-ed up. He’s fairly certain the force is just torturing him, but still he controls himself (for Padme for Luke for Leia).

I’m gonna say well-adjusted!Vader sees murder in general as more of a vice than a sin- on par with having a beer. And really well adjusted Vader is willing to admit to himself that he’s an alcoholic, he seriously cannot regulate, its a problem. He really can’t let himself go, because he’ll just end up spiraling. And so he restrains himself and only seriously maims a few of the adult raiders.

Vader figures he can always come back later and slowly torture them to death if this whole ‘save the future’ thing doesn’t pan out.

Obi-wan leaves his shuttle and hides under a rock for 30 minutes. He calculates thats just enough time for him to pretend he went on an extremely effective and sneaky fact finding mission- just in case anyone checks R4′s records. Gets back in shuttle and gets the fuck out of there, much to Dooku’s chagrin, who lost sight of him after the shuttle landed and is now going to have to switch to one of his alternate start-the-war plans.

On the flight back he reports everything to the council- fallen Dooku and the separatist leaders, the trade federation and the massive droid army, Jango Fett the clone template of the republic army (?) working for the separatists. He briefly comms Anakin, but anyone hacking into their conversations would hear only a nonsensical, rambling conversation. Later, a hacker might turn over the idea that they were speaking in elaborate code, but why would Jedi invent such a thing during peacetime?

The war still starts; at this point in the timeline it was inevitable; the artifact was only designed to give them the chance to correct their own failings, not the galaxy’s. Palpatine still gets his emergency powers.

The same day the armies are discovered, separatist war ships take off to engulf Ryloth. The Jedi are instructed by the senate to lead the clone army and provide immediate relief-this will not be a repeat of the republic’s inaction on Naboo. It’s both better and worse than the first Battle of Genosis. So many more civilians are caught in the crossfire. The first titanic battle is not contained to evacuated droid factories, but rages across an entire populated world. The battle lasts for weeks.

The main reason this fight is less deadly is solely due to the fact that General Kenobi manages to maneuver his way into high command of the entire army.

“I believe assumptions were made since I was the first point of contact with Kamino, Masters,” the Knight explained apologetically to the arriving high council members. “I realize its not quite appropriate, but for right now I am the Jedi most familiar with our forces and the enemies. I would, of course, prefer to cede the role to someone else.”

The assembled Jedi can feel the truth in that statement.

“For better or for worse, advance troops were directed by the senate to land planetside and have met heavy resistance. I managed to redirect them to a more defensible position, where they can provide surface based cover fire for incoming reinforcements. The battle has already begun.” He received a grim nod of approval from Master Windu.

“I feel the need to say now, that if there’s one thing I learned from my time as a general on Melida/Dann, or in working against Death Watch on Mandalore, its that having a clear chain of command is vital for a military to succeed. I don’t need to remind some of you that leadership breakdowns were what ultimately ended both the Stark Hyperspace War and the Yinchorri Crisis,” Masters Koon and Tiin exchanged looks before deliberately sending forth a small force wave of approval, understanding where this briefing was leading.

“I believe that unnecessarily restructuring command before the battle is won here could do far more harm than good.” The reminder of Obi-wan’s unusually militaristic apprenticeship put some of the assembled knights at ease even as it inspired a twinge of guilt in the older masters.

“In command you are, General Kenobi,” Master Yoda finally acknowledged. “A Jedi Master you will be, once done this battle is. Have us do, what would you?”

The battle lasts for weeks, and when its over, the commanding Jedi and Troopers involved will openly acknowledge that had anyone else been in command, it would’ve lasted months, if not years. Facing down logistical, strategic, and tactical problems on a scale unheard of for a thousand years, High General Kenobi does not falter.

Enemy reinforcements seem unending. For all their preparation, every single trooper is new to war, and secretly concerned that should they fall, they will be replaced with cadets who hadn’t even finished their training.

Obi-Wan is putting out fires before they can start. Much to their shock, clone commanders are informed that they will, for the time being, remain in charge of their troops. With a handful of exceptions, Jedi ‘Generals’ were in fact, to be treated as a cross between highly skilled commandoes and advisors with abnormally sourced field intelligence.

“All of you have spent your lives training to lead your brothers into combat. The Jedi Masters and knights who are being assigned to your divisions have not received such training.”

General Kenobi addressed the division commanders, some in person, some over holocomm. All focused in rapt attention as their General reordered the shape of their lives using language they could understand.

“The command structure I am issuing is designed to maximize our ability to utilize our respective strategic capabilities, while minimizing potential loss of your life. It will be our great privilege to serve alongside such an army, and while I fully expect a complementary exchange of knowledge in time, for now, focus on survival.”

The Jedi received similar briefings, tailored for their broader array of combat and military experience. Some, including Jedi Master Pong Krell and Grandmaster Yoda, were pulled aside and tasked with the essential mission of infiltrating and destroying the Droid factories on Genosis. If they were to have a chance of winning this war, they they would need to cut off the seemingly unceasing flow of droid reinforcements.

An elite squadron of Arctroopers and Jedi field operatives were covertly dispatched, Grandmaster Yoda himself in command. Considering Count Dooku had yet to appear anywhere near Ryloth...the grandmaster had the best chance of bringing in the fallen separatist leader alive for questioning.

Shortly after they left, Anakin arrived, having finally turned over Padme’s protection to her regular guard. With the military creation vote past, the assassination risk was considered minimal. The real delay in his arrival came from her repeated attempts to join the Grand Army of the Republic on Ryloth with the intent of coordinating humanitarian assistance. Eventually he managed to convince her that she could do more good in the senate.

After all, he pointed out, someone would need to followup the military creation act with a bill to grant clones equal citizen rights. Otherwise, the legal grey area that cloning fell under and their non-republic origin would inadvertently make the clones slaves.

His borrowed Nabooan cruiser entered the warzone with the grace and efficiency as a small neutron bomb.

Those close enough to see its flaming descent watched in horror, realizing that the high generals own padawan would likely be a war casualty before he ever engaged in combat.

The legion nearest to soon-to-be-ground-zero, under the command of Captain Rex of the 501st, were distracted by heated combat, as the temporary barricade they had put up to defend the civilian population gave way to droidika artillery.

While reloading, several dozen troopers happened to look up to see a speck detach itself from the hull as at spiraled in the lower atmosphere. Hope spread that the Jedi had managed to activate some sort of eject hatch. A skilled shocktrooper could probably control and and survive such a fall with luck, which mean a Jedi almost certainly could.

A few tactical scouts charged with watching the skies confirmed that the speck was indeed a humanoid. No chute was visible, but even 8 days into the war, rumors had already spread about how Master Windu had passed off his chute mid-air to a troopers who had been damaged by suppressing fire, cushioning his free fall solely with the tank he crushed upon landing.

Only one trooper, stationed in the town clock tower specifically to track the Padawan’s arrival and issued with a high-resolution farscope, saw the whole thing. Fortunately for his credibility later, in its current setting, the scope automatically logged photos every 5 seconds, ensuring that for years to come Obi-Wan would have a flipbook as evidence that he was not the crazy one.

CT-3609 or Blink (as he was named after winning the division wide staring contest on Kamino two year prior) forwarded the trajectory of the vehicle to command, who confirmed his analysis that it would impact two clicks out from their makeshift fort and not present a risk to civilian or trooper lives.

As it traversed the stratosphere a figure (desperate repair droid, Blink assumed) emerged from the cockpit to perch on the nose of the ship. As it entered the troposphere, it became painfully obvious that the figure jutting out from the hull of the ship was in fact not a humanoid droid, but an unarmored human. The Jedi stood on the prow of the ship, seemingly impervious to and oblivious of:

air resistance

centrifugal force

normal space gravity

Blink’s slack-jawed bewilderment

the flames engulfing the ship below him

At this range, the smirk on the man’s face was visible (man? boy? kriff is he even through puberty?). Several miles above the surface he leaped, diving towards the ground like a bird of prey.

To the west, the ship made impact with the ground, sending a shockwave that shook the tower just enough for Blink to lose visual in the final moments of descent. Cursing, as while he was confident the Jedi would inexplicably survive, he really wanted to see how. The trooper scanned the droid-engulfed farmland to the north for a crash site, to no avail. Lingering smoke from the burnt countryside negatively impacted visibility low to the ground.

Rather than trying to articulate his report into words, he sent the 50-odd frames the farscope had saved, as well as the coordinates for the jedi’s projected radius of touchdown. A quick radio over to long range electro-ballistics ensured that his landing wouldn’t be marred by friendly fire.

He awaited follow-up questions on the absurd entry method, which, when they came, mostly consisted of variations on “...Is this for real?” and eventually “Can you set the scope to video for a little while?” and finally “Do you think that’s how he got the name Skywalker?”

There was a temporarily lull in fire from the west, likely a ripple effect from the ship’s explosion. From his vantage point Blink could see his batchmates using the opportunity to try and plug the holes in their barricade with broken droid pieces. Regardless of the itch to join them, he knew he couldn’t leave his post until the Jedi actually arrived in camp. Finally, a distant explosion and thick pillar of smoke gave the Jedi’s position away.

He tried to make out details, but the scope had a difficult time focusing through the haze. Manually trying to fine tune the scope’s settings, Blink caught a glimpse of what looked like half a hover tank sailing through the air to impact with a trade federation troop carrier in a fiery explosion. Several more explosions, flying droid artillery, and plumes of smoke were caught on record before visual contact with the source was established. He was mostly visible as a blue blur, lightsaber mowing a meandering path towards their location.

It wasn’t until Skywalker braced himself in place to punch a droidaka into pieces that Blink caught actual sight of the man. Only his eyes were visible, nose and mouth covered by layers of cloth. He blurred, then reappeared on top a massive missile launcher attached to an absurdly heavily armored vehicle. A minute or so of rapid blue flashes passed, the longest he had seen concentrated in one area. Then Skywalker was gone, movement clearly visible as he for once he moved in a straight line, plowing a rapid path away from the launcher.

Less than 30 seconds later, Blink had to wince away from the scope, as a burning white explosion temporarily overwhelmed the direct light filter. The trooper panicked for a moment, thinking he had gone both deaf and blind, but the abrupt, sucking silence ended after a moment with a deafening sonic boom. The shockwave rattled the farscope, nearly knocking it over, but Blink managed to steady it and himself in time.

A cheer emerged from pleasantly surprised vod below. The entire droid legion that had been guarding the missile launcher and apparent ordinance bay was flattened.

It took a moment for the realization to set in that the background noise of missile and and anti-missile collisions directly overhead had slowed pace. With the northern flank gone, artillery were able to redouble efforts to the east, and a second white hot shockwave ensued, signaling that the tide of battle had shifted. It was almost too easy for the republics electro-ballistics to tactically devastate the surrounding forces.

Eventually some sort of win/loss programming must have set in and all forces outside of a certain radius began retreating southward, conceding the scorched land to the republic army. It was cadets work to clean up the final suicidal droid charge.

A commotion ensued as Skywalker leapt the barricade with a mid-air flip. The vod greeted him with cheers, as they correctly assumed his appearance had something to do with the skirmish’s decisive victory.

Blink sent the video of the battle to command and quickly packed up his scope and assorted equipment. Hurrying down the battered tower, Blink thought to himself that this Anakin Skywalker was the best sort of Jedi a trooper could ask for.

uh sorry i got really sidetracked there moving on

Kenobi and Skywalker quickly become the face of the war once again

they grit their teeth a bit, but when they finally have a moment to really plan they eventually agree that to take down Sideous they have to cut off his political power in addition to everything else, and taking advantage of their public personas was the most accessible way to do so (*evil laughter*)

While Dooku wasn’t captured, Yoda heard the truth in his old student’s cryptic warnings about a Sith in the Senate, and the council begins carefully editing their release of tactical plans to the Chancellor’s office in the hopes of ferreting out the spy in their midst.

Pong Krell looses two arms in his duel with Dooku. Obi-Wan successfully hides his smug pleasure at the news. Anakin enjoys makeing comparisons between him and Grievous.

Kenobi doesn’t allow the origin of the clones to go unexamined, although he agrees that if the public were informed that they don’t actually know who ordered them it would probably cause panic.

The ‘inhibitor chips’ are ‘discovered’ early on and Anakin leads the effort to ensure that they are phased out and removed immediately. This consists of reminding every Jedi who even hesitates about how how he as a child slave had some experience with control chips and unless you want to take a leaf out of the hutts books lets start doing brain surgery chop chop mmmkay?

(This isn’t to say that Vader doesn’t still a twinge of shame at acknowledging his slave roots. But it is eclipsed by the burning guilt that he knowingly acted as slave master to his troops for decades after Sideous wiped their minds. He tried to rationalize it to himself, after all he didn’t immediately understand what Order 66 had done to the troopers. But while the morality of murder was more of an intellectual concern than a personal one, treating people as things...)

The Kamonions are a little harder to budge, referencing contracts that they refuse to allow the Jedi to see

Finally Vader snuck into the Chief Medical Scientist’s home while she was sleeping and straight-up threatened to murder her and burn down her lab. At the risk of losing her life’s work, Nala Se complied.

Vader left with the final threat that in the event that Darth Tyranus caught wind and activated Order 66 prematurely, he would kill 100 Kamonians for every Jedi felled by troopers. Shaak Ti was pleased by the cloners sudden change of heart. Tyrannus, and by extension, Sideous, are in the dark.

Obi-Wan frequently publicly confronts Palpatine about the troops citizen status, urging him make use of his emergency powers to grant them citizenship and full pay, with the option to leave the army should they so wish.

Anakin manages to play off his avoidance of the Chancellor as disappointment in his perceived lack of dedication to anti-slavery efforts

Finally Palpatine gives in- regardless of what happens next, the troops will be looked after.

With 2/3rds of the troopers dechipped, Vaderkin is eager to kill Sideous again, but after several intense screaming matches and sparring sessions, the time travelers come to the agreement that even if they succeed in their duel, with things as they were, the perception of the Jedi military coop would cause mass civil unrest. The scattered sith apprentices, while individually weak, were more than capable of magnifying that fear and anger until the galaxy breaks. Darth Sideous wanted to ensure that if he couldn’t have the galaxy, no one would.

(Vader knows this. Sideous enjoyed monologuing, and much of his plotting couldn’t be safely bragged about until after he had decisively won, leaving Vader as the unwilling receptacle for years of pent-up rants and self-satisfied gloats about the inevitability of his victory)

Continued Here

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mari-beau · 3 years

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ANOTHER HUMAN - A Rogue One fanfiction

Written for Cassian Appreciation Week 2021 Day 6: Favorite Relationship

(I ship Cassian/Jyn rather hard, but I also enjoy K-2S0 and Cassian’s relationship, so here’s some Cassian/Jyn from K-2S0’s POV)

Title: Another Human

Characters: K-2S0 POV; Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn

Setting: Post-Rogue One (canon divergent in which they live)

Words: 788

Summary: K-2S0 likes exactly one human, so being responsible for another is not something he’s happy about.

Spoilers: Rogue One

Warnings: Usual lack of editing, but otherwise, none? (I don’t think? Let me know if there is)

“Jyn, are you okay?” Cassian Andor knocked on the refresher door. The sound of Jyn Erso vomiting could be heard clearly.

“I told her not to eat that unnamed meat from the street vendor,” he muttered.

K-2S0 agreed that Jyn Erso made poor choices. It was difficult to keep her safe. And unfortunately, it was now one of K2S0’s primary imperatives since Cassian had reprogrammed him in his new droid body. He had informed K-2 that he had befriended Jyn as well, sacrificed himself to save both Cassian and the woman.

But K-2S0 didn’t remember doing those things. The last memory he had was Cassian backing up his programming on Yavin. And it had been exactly as K-2 had suspected. A suicide mission. But he was what constituted happy (for K-2) that Cassian had survived. K-2S0 was less pleased that another human had been consigned to his care.

“Are you sure that you don’t need medical attention?” Cassian asked. K-2 knew the many variations in his human’s facial expressions. This one was Worry.

“I’m fine,” Jyn called from behind the closed door. “Just something I ate.”

Did Captain Cassian Andor, rebel spy, actually believe her? Did he not know? K-2S0 scanned his friend’s face for microexpressions. The human was clueless. K-2 had thought Cassian was more intelligent than most organic beings. But he was not.

“The female cycle in humans is 30 standard days,” K-2 announced.

Cassian shot him a confused look before returning his attention to the closed door.

“Are you still throwing up?” Cassian asked.

“No. I think I’m-” Jyn’s words were cut off by more retching noises.

“Jyn Erso’s cycle averages 28.7 standard days.”

“What are you talking about, K-2?” Cassian glared at him.

“Her last complete hormonal cycle was 56 days ago.”

Cassian shook his head, dismissing the droid’s helpful information, still donning the expression of confusion. And worry as he stared at the door separating him from the woman.

Why was K-2S0 burdened with two beings as stupid as humans?

“You have impregnated Jyn Erso, Cassian.”

“What?!”

Well, K-2S0 had never logged that expression on Cassian’s face before.

The refresher door slid open to reveal Jyn standing there. She was exactly two shades paler than normal on the Fraca Scale. But her expression was a common one on her face. With a partial smile and relaxed features. But the tendons in her neck pointed to a tension at odds with her statement that she was fine.

“All better,” she added, the tone of her voice cheerful.

“Oh, good,” K-2 said. “Did you expel the offspring through your digestive tract? I did not think humans-”

“Shut up, Kay!” Cassian admonished. But his eyes never left Jyn’s face, which was now sporting an expression of confusion. Her heart rate was also increasing. Cassian’s voice was much softer when he spoke to her. Of course. He was always shouting at K-2S0 but it was all soft, hushed tones with Jyn Erso. Well, except for when they argued. But now, Cassian practically whispered, “You’re pregnant?”

Jyn Erso was no longer two shades paler than normal. She was turning quite pink. She nodded her head.

Cassian swore in his native tongue, ran a hand through his hair.

“I forgot my injection,” he said. “This is my fault.”

“No, it’s my fault. I forgot mine, too,” Jyn said. Her eyes were tracking Cassian, the various emotions playing across his face.

“Well, it’s not my fault. I did try to remind you both,” K-2 pointed out. But they had told him to shut up. That gun battles while fleeing a seedy cartel-controlled asteroid city were not the appropriate time for medical care reminders.

“Go check our course, now!” Both Cassian and Jyn barked at him.

K-2S0 sighed loudly and made his way to the cockpit. The humans’ excited voices filled the entire ship. He could detect no indicators that it was an argument, however. And when he glanced back into the hold, he found the pair of troublesome humans embracing. With hands. And bodies. And mouths. (Organics could be so repulsive).

A sigh escaped the droid again. The probability that they were keeping the offspring was high.

“I am not a Nurse Droid,” he announced loudly.

“Don’t worry, Kay.” Jyn’s voice was light, happy. “I bet Cassian could reprogram you.”

Cassian’s laughter followed. He was K-2S0’s friend. And the droid had to admit that since Jyn Erso had invaded their lives, his friend did laugh more. But weren’t two humans already more than enough responsibility for one droid?

K-2S0 was uncertain he had the capacity to take care of yet another human. But still, he began accessing what little data was stored in his memory circuits regarding human offspring.

#cassianappreciationweek #rogue one #fanfiction #cassian andor #jyn erso #K-2S0 #cassian x jyn #rebelcaptain

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foreteller-ava · 2 years

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Fallen Star: Chapter 12

AO3 | FFN

[Previous Fic] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15]

Fic Summary: The Clone Wars have raged on for three years. With Dooku dead, the war’s end is finally within reach, and peace may come to the galaxy.

For Jedi Knight Padmé Naberrie, Senator Anakin Skywalker, and Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, the world seems to have too many other plans to let it.

[Or, a Revenge of the Sith Roleswap AU]

Chapter Summary: Obi-Wan and Anakin deal with the consequences of Padme's decision, Order 66 begins.

A/N: This is the chapter that went through the most revisions for me to be satisfied with it, in turn, it's also probably the one that had the most cut out. Regardless, enjoy~

(The fate of the Younglings is left purposefully unmentioned. I leave it in your hands to decide if they live or die.)

The battle was still going on around Obi-Wan. Even with Grievous dead in what would likely be the final battle of the Clone Wars, the battle droids still needed to be taken care of and the remaining Separatist leaders found. He made a note to check the computers to see if the systems had been wiped as he arrived back to the center of the fight, where the 212th stood.

"Sir." Cody gave him a salute.

"Get the troops to the higher levels."

Cody nodded to the command and turned around to leave, but stopped after a moment. "Sir, I think you'll be needing this." He reached into armor and pulled out Obi-Wan's lightsaber, which was a relief.

Obi-Wan grabbed it with a smile. "Thank you, Cody. Now, let's get a move on. We've got a battle to win." A war, actually, but there was no guarantee this would be the end quite yet. He pushed the Varactyl to start climbing up the wall to get to the upper floors. Hopefully, it wouldn't be long before he found everything he was looking for.

As they were climbing, there was a shift in the Force, and something was terribly wrong.

Before he could contemplate it further, try to figure out what was wrong, something hit the rock face next to him, and he and Boga lost grip of the rocky face of the cliff.

The droids wouldn't have had a chance to fire. The only thing that could have fired on him was the clones, his clones, his friends.

The betrayal of the clones was the only thought Obi-Wan had as he plunged into the watery depths below.

-x-

It was sudden all over the galaxy. The Jedi had been surrounded by clones, their trusted allies, their friends. Perhaps they had been on the ground, leading an assault on the forces as they charged on the Separatists on the ground, or maybe they were in the air, soaring shooting at the unnamed forces around them. Some weren't even fighting, some were sitting at a campfire, discussing their latest victory or finding a moment's respite from the fighting around them. But it did not matter where they were.

On the battlefield on Felucia, Jedi Knight Aayla Secura was marching with her clones when the Force changed behind her. She'd died thinking it was a droid who had managed to sneak into her lines, but it was her trusted commander Bly who'd pulled the trigger, gunning her down.

Plo Koon had been flying, taking aim at Separatists pilots when the Wolf Pack took aim and shot, sending the Kel Door's ship spiraling downward and into the ground, where he would die in the explosion moments later.

Depa Billaba and her Padawan, Caleb Dume, were both relaxing and trading battle stories with their clones when the call came. Caleb would make it out, his master sacrificing herself so that he might have a chance to live.

On a Star Destroyer hurtling through deep space, Ahsoka Tano had been racing to Coruscant with the renegade Sith Lord Maul, hoping to return to the Jedi to rejoin them and her master Padmé, to save Padmé from the plotting of Sidious, when the call had come. Her trusted commander and close friend, Rex, suddenly took aim, unable to stop himself from firing on his closest friend, only able to warn her and direct her where to look.

The Force sung in pain as thousands of Jedi met their fates.

There wasn't a soul with even an ounce of Force Sensitivity who couldn't feel it.

-x-

"Master Ani, I'm afraid that Padmé has gone to the Jedi Temple." Threepio's words echoed across the room alongside the baby's cries. He didn't want to hear them. He couldn't process them right. They had to be wrong.

Anakin was no stranger to fear. He was used to long stretches of time where he just didn't know what was going on with Padmé, whether she was alright, whether she was dead. It was a fact of war and when there was an extended period between calls he was always worried they wouldn't reunite once more.

None of those moments were anything compared to the one he was living in at this moment. Shortly after Padmé had fled his apartment, the Jedi Temple had caught fire, and he had been hit with such a terrible pain. Luke and Leia had been crying no matter what his efforts, and his head hurt more than he could ever imagine.

"Daddy's here, don't worry. It's going to be okay." He held the twins in his arms, attempting to soothe them despite the pain he was in himself.

Something was very wrong in the Force, and not just in the Force. Something was happening to the Jedi. Something awful. Something that nobody could predict. He wanted to run to the temple now, to find out what was wrong.

But he couldn't. The twins needed him more. He kept bouncing them up and down, trying to soothe them. He couldn't even try to figure out how to send them emotions through the Force to try to calm them, not when he knew it was the Force that had set all three of them off like this.

He just had to hope that even with all of this, she'd be okay. He couldn't let anything else happen.

He didn't want to let anything else happen.

-x-

Padmé marched up the Temple steps, the 501st following behind her. They met with little resistance, about what she had been expecting, if she was honest. The Force around her screamed in agony with the deaths of the Jedi off world, and yet it felt like nothing. She could hear it, but not feel it. That was concerning. It wasn't her concern. Perhaps it was the dark side protecting her from it all, but she couldn't be sure.

With the war, the temple was mostly empty, but regardless of that fact, each Jedi she met fell to her saber with a quick strike. They were focused on defense, if even that, but she didn't care, she just kept swinging. She heard the firing of blasters aimed at any knights and masters she didn't fell.

She needed to embrace the dark side. It didn't matter that, at one point, these people here had been friends, they were plotting to destroy the Republic. They were in the way of her protecting the people who really mattered. The only Jedi who still mattered to her was Obi-Wan, and he wasn't here. He was ending the war. (She tried not to think about the fact that Obi-Wan was likely dealing with whatever Sidious was doing. She couldn't think about that.)

By the time she was finished, there wouldn't be a single Jedi on Coruscant left.

If it saved her family, then that was what mattered most.

-x-

Obi-Wan had emerged from the surface of the water, still unsure of what had happened.

It had been fortunate he'd been above water when the shot had been fired, but it just didn't make sense. How could Cody of all people have ordered for the clones to fire on him? They'd been working together since the Clone Wars had started. He was Obi-Wan's most trusted commander, a good friend. And he'd fired on him.

Whatever the case was, he knew he wouldn't be finding the answers on Utapau. Even if this was a Separatist plot (and he wasn't entirely sure that it wasn't, he remembered Tup and Fives from Padmé's own unit) it didn't make sense why it only launched after Grievous was dead.

It also didn't explain the sudden emptiness in the Force. The Separatists may have been able to get to the 212th, but they never would have been able to cause what felt like that much destruction.

Or perhaps the lack of Jedi, the deadness and pain he felt, was unrelated to what had happened here.

No, he knew it wasn't.

He was getting lost in his own head again. Obi-Wan released his worries and fear of this to the Force for now. He could attempt to figure it out when he was somewhere safe, where the clones couldn't get him.

How ironic, he was hiding from his own men.

He climbed up, avoiding any scouting droids that may have passed by his location as he jumped into his Starfighter, heading for anywhere but here at the moment.

As soon as he was far enough away, he opened as many channels as possible, wanting to reach anybody who would be available. "Emergency Code 913. I have no contact on any frequency."

As he left the Utapau atmosphere, a blue figure appeared on the comm, staticky and hard to understand. "Repeat. You're unclear."

"General Kenobi." In front of him, much to Obi-Wan's relief, stood the figure of Senator Organa. While Obi-Wan was far from any politician's biggest fan (even Anakin, one of his closest friends, had that spot filled by Padmé, who he was trying not to think about as he wondered if this might have been a part of her visions, her nightmares, and whether or not she was possibly pregnant trying to survive this nightmare) he had to admit that Bail was one of the few he did actually like.

If nothing else, he was one of the few who were sympathetic to the Jedi, that counted for a lot right now. "Senator Organa. My clone troops turned on me. I need help."

"We have just rescued Master Yoda." That was at least a small bit of good news from the senator, that Yoda was alive, if nothing else. "It appears this ambush has happened everywhere."

Everywhere meant Padmé was in danger. Everywhere meant Ahsoka was in danger. Everywhere meant that every Jedi was in danger. It wasn't a good thought.

Before Obi-Wan could ask anything more, Bail spoke up again. "We're sending you our coordinates." And with that, he vanished, likely wanting to not say anything more on a line neither of them could verify was secure.

He looked at the coordinates Bail sent and took a deep breath.

It was time to go.

-x-

It had taken about an hour after the Jedi Temple had caught fire for Anakin to manage to get the babies to settle down. Luke and Leia were sleeping, and although it still felt like a darkness or void was permeating the Force around him, it hurt less. He could breathe again and not feel like the world was crashing down on him because things wouldn't stop hurting.

That, of course, did not mean that things were okay. While things in his apartment were no longer at meltdown level, Padmé still wasn't back yet, and that only meant bad things. Because the first thing she would have done had she been okay was come back to him. Because that was what they did. They made sure the other was alright no matter–

Before his thoughts could continue to spiral, Anakin heard the sound of a ship on his balcony. He ran outside to see Padmé, hardly looking more composed than she had before she'd run off.

"Padmé!" They ran to each other, and he held her. If it was up to him, he'd have never let her go either. She'd been in danger tonight. Real, tangible, danger, and there wasn't a thing he could have done about it. "What happened? Threepio said you went to the temple and there was a fire and I kept hearing that it was attacked…" He wasn't going to cry. Not now. Not when it was obvious she was still shaken too.

"I'm sorry I worried you." He tried to process Padmé's response. She was sorry she worried him? "I was...I had to go to the Temple, for the Chancellor."

"What?"

"The Jedi were plotting against the Republic." That was impossible. The Jedi had no interest in politics, and anybody who managed to spend five minutes talking to any of the council members could have confirmed that fact. Padmé, who was most definitely a Jedi if the past three years of secrecy meant anything to her, arguing that this was an attack on the Republic didn't make sense.

"Padmé, I don't…" He shook his head. "That's impossible, the Jedi wouldn't–"

"Mace was standing over the Chancellor, Anakin." She snapped at him briefly, and he remained silent, letting her continue. "He was going to try to kill him unless I stepped in and I…"

Padmé didn't say anything more, and he didn't need her to. While he doubted she'd had the full picture, she'd probably acted as best as she could.

Besides, she'd just watched her childhood home be destroyed by whoever was attacking the Temple. It was hard for Anakin to believe that Padmé was doing very well at all.

"Is that why the temple was attacked?" Anakin asked, trying to make sense of all this, and everything that happened. Padmé nodded. "Are you okay? Are you going to be attacked next?"

Perhaps this was her vision. He could get her and the twins off Coruscant now and then it wouldn't come to pass. They wouldn't end up on a lava planet.

"No." Padmé shot down his questions, which answered his theory quickly. "I'm...I'm standing with the Chancellor." She squeezed his hands. "The only person I'm more loyal to than him is you."

"And Obi-Wan? Ahsoka?" Anakin asked. She had to care about her master and closest friend. He had been here only a few days ago just to make sure that she was alright. (Had that really been a few days ago? Had things spiraled out of control that quickly?) And her Padawan...Ahsoka was practically her daughter, she couldn't just be okay with her death.

Padmé shook her head. "I...I don't even know if they're alive. But if they are, and both of them are loyal to the Republic as well, then I'd put my faith in Obi-wan and Ahsoka too."

It was a sobering thought. It also wouldn't be the first time that Obi-Wan had escaped death, or Ahsoka for that matter. Perhaps the two of them would be alright.

They stayed silent for a moment, Anakin attempting to hold Padmé together while not losing himself in grief for his friends who may have gotten hurt, or worse, in all this. Padmé spoke again. "The Chancellor gave me one more assignment. The Separatist leadership are all on Mustafar. I'm supposed to end this war."

Anakin looked up at her, startled. "So you came here?"

"You needed to know I was okay, and I needed to know that too." That her visions hadn't come true. "I needed to check on Luke and Leia."

If he was honest, he didn't feel okay. He felt tired and he was still terrified for Padmé's fate, even if the mission she was departing on wasn't hard. "We're holding up. I just got them to go to sleep. You can stay until they wake up, say goodbye to all of us, not just me." The offer wasn't just an offer. He had the worst feeling that if he didn't have her stay, then it wouldn't be good.

Padmé shook her head. "I can't. I have to complete my mission, and the sooner, the better."

"But Pad–"

"Anakin, I don't have time for this." She snapped at him again, causing Anakin to wince. "I'm sorry, Ani, but I have to do this."

She started returning to the ship. "Stay on Coruscant until I come back, please. Then, I can keep you safe."

There wasn't anything more he could do. He released Padmé, watching as she entered the ship she'd arrived in. "I love you, Angel."

"I love you too."

The ship left the balcony behind, taking Padmé off to Mustafar.

Anakin tried to ignore the fact that his wife felt so cold.

#Star Wars #Anakin Skywalker #Padme Amidala #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Obi Wan kenobi #Anidala #I apologize everybody there is no more happiness here :')

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