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areyoufuckingcrazy · 3 months ago

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Hi! I saw you took requests and I was wondering if you could do a Command Squad x Fem!Reader where she’s a general but not because she’s a Jedi but because she actually served in wars before this and they want her respect and flirt with her. And of course any of your flourishes ;)

You’re the best! Xx

“Steel & Stardust”

Fem!Reader x Command Squad (Cody, Wolffe, Fox, Neyo, Bacara, Gree, Bly, and Ponds)

⸻

You weren’t a Jedi. Never wore the robes, never had the Force. You didn’t need it.

Your command had been earned the hard way—blood, shrapnel, and scars in wars no one even bothered to archive anymore. When the Republic came knocking, you told them you didn’t serve causes—you served soldiers. And somehow, that landed you here.

Not in front of them. With them.

The elite. The best the Republic had to offer.

And from the second you stepped into that war room, every helmet turned your way. And when the helmets came off—yeah, that was a problem. Because they were all infuriatingly hot, and even worse, they knew it.

Cody was the first to speak, his voice calm, neutral, but his eyes sharp. “General. You’ll forgive the question, but… what exactly are your qualifications?”

You just smirked, tossing your old service jacket onto the table with a dull thud. “Two border wars, five urban insurgencies, and a ten-year campaign in the Outer Rim before the Jedi decided the galaxy needed saving. That enough for you, Commander?”

Wolffe snorted, amused. “She’s got more battlefield time than half the Jedi Council.”

“She’s not wrong,” Bacara grunted, arms crossed, voice gravelly. “Seen her file. Most of us got bred for war. She just never left it.”

“I like her,” Bly grinned, leaning on the table with a little too much casual charm. “Can we keep her?”

“Not like that, Bly,” Fox muttered, though he didn’t exactly disagree.

“I didn’t say anything,” Bly said with a wicked grin. “Yet.”

You sighed. “Are you always like this, or is it just when there’s a woman in the room who outranks you?”

Gree chuckled. “You outrank us technically. Not in spirit.”

Neyo hadn’t said a word yet, just stared at you like he was dissecting your tactical potential, or possibly imagining your funeral. Could go either way with Neyo.

Ponds gave you a respectful nod. “We’ve worked under a lot of Jedi. Not all of them know what they’re doing. We’d follow you, General.”

And that—that was what mattered.

⸻

You caught them watching you more often than not. In the field, in the war room, during briefings. It wasn’t just the usual soldier-to-general dynamic. No, it was different. Heat in Cody’s gaze when you gave orders. That glint in Wolffe’s eye when you called him out in front of the others. The way Fox lingered just a bit too long when you handed him back his datapad.

Even Neyo—cold, calculating Neyo—started standing just a little too close.

“You know they’re all trying to impress you, right?” Gree asked one night while you were cleaning your gear, his voice low and amused.

You didn’t even glance up. “Trying and failing.”

Bly leaned against your doorway. “Is that a challenge?”

⸻

After you saved their shebs in a firefight—ripping a blaster from a fallen commando and dropping six droids in twelve seconds flat—you were pretty sure something shifted.

They wanted your respect. You already had theirs.

But they wanted more.

So they fought beside you. Ate with you. Got protective in the field. Made excuses to talk to you after hours. Fought over who got assigned to your team. And every now and then… they flirted like it was a competitive sport.

Cody did subtle praise and brooding glances. Always has your back.

Wolffe. The grumpy softie. Pretends he hates you. Would kill anyone who hurt you.

Fox was stoic, but flirty in a dry, sardonic way. Deep down, he’s soft, but you’d have to earn it.

Neyo protective in a weird way. Doesn’t speak much but always notices when you’re off. Secretly touched you remembered his name.

Bacara extremely blunt, intense. A man of few words—but his loyalty is loud.

Gree slightly flirty and professional. Gives you space but always drops a line like, “You ever need a break, General… I know a place.”

Bly was shameless. Teases you endlessly but respects you deeply. Would absolutely fight anyone who disrespects you.

Ponds was quiet support. Loyal. Observes everything. The first one to ask how you’re doing when no one else notices.

And you?

You don’t fall easily. You’ve seen too much.

But if you were going to fall—

It might just be for one of them.

Or all of them.

⸻

79’s was already loud when you walked in. Music thrumming through your bones, the low hum of clone banter and laughter rising and falling like waves. You hadn’t planned to come here. You’d just wanted one damn drink. One moment not steeped in war, planning, or death.

You ran right into Commander Bly. Well, more like his chest.

“General,” he said, and the smile that bloomed on his face was entirely too pretty. He looked you over, gaze lingering just a little too long. “Didn’t know you came here.”

“I don’t,” you replied, stepping back. “Just needed to breathe.”

“You came to a GAR bar to breathe?” Gree chimed in from behind him, drink in hand and eyebrows raised. “You’re worse at relaxing than Fox.”

Speak of the devil—Fox was at the bar, sharp suit shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up. He lifted his glass in greeting and turned away to order another round. You could feel his eyes on you though, like a sniper sight you couldn’t shake.

“You here alone?” Bly asked, leaning against the wall like he knew what he was doing.

“I was,” you replied flatly.

“Tragic,” Gree said, stepping closer, voice smoother than it had any right to be. “This place is full of trouble tonight.”

“Is that what you are, Gree? Trouble?”

“You’ll have to find out.”

And just like that, Cody, Wolffe, Bacara, Ponds, and Neyo filtered in from the second level, coming down the steps like they were part of a slow-motion holodrama.

Cody looked you over once, eyes flickering to the drink in your hand. “Didn’t think we’d see you here.”

“I was hoping I wouldn’t see you here,” you replied, teasing, heat behind the words.

Wolffe smirked. “Too bad.”

Ponds gave a low whistle. “She’s gonna kill one of you tonight.”

“I volunteer,” Bly said without hesitation.

Bacara rolled his eyes and took a slow sip of his drink, staring at you over the rim of the glass like he was thinking something entirely inappropriate—and probably correct.

And Neyo—stone-cold, unreadable—just nodded. “You clean up well, General.”

That made a few of them pause. Compliments from Neyo were about as rare as a Tatooine blizzard.

You were suddenly hyper-aware of how your shirt clung to your skin, how the lights in the bar made everything seem lower, warmer, closer.

Fox appeared beside you without a sound, holding out a drink. “On me.”

You hesitated. “You trying to get me drunk, Commander?”

“If I were, I’d start with something stronger,” he said, voice low, his knuckles brushing yours as you took it.

“Careful,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “You might be starting something you can’t finish.”

“I always finish what I start,” Fox replied smoothly, dead serious.

The tension snapped tight like a tripwire.

Cody moved closer behind you, his breath brushing your neck. “You should be careful with us, General.”

Wolffe stepped in next to him, eyes gleaming. “Or don’t. We like dangerous.”

Gree leaned in from the other side. “And we play well together.”

“You all are shameless,” you muttered, taking a sip just to hide your smirk.

“No,” Ponds said with a shrug. “Just very, very interested.”

You looked around—at eight sets of eyes, different in every way except one thing: they wanted you. Wanted to impress you, challenge you, make you forget—if only for one night—that the galaxy was falling apart outside these walls.

You downed the rest of your drink and smiled, slow and dangerous. “Alright, boys. Try and keep up.”

The night was just beginning.

The music had shifted. Slowed. Lower bass, seductive rhythm. Clone troopers were still everywhere, but the spotlight wasn’t on them anymore.

It was on you.

You hadn’t planned to be the center of the room, but when you started moving through the crowd—hips swaying just enough, eyes catching every glance—you had their undivided attention. Especially when Commander Bly snuck up behind you and took your hand.

“Dance with me,” he said, already guiding you onto the floor like he’d waited years for the excuse.

You let him.

Bly danced like he fought—confident, smooth, close. One hand gripped your hip, the other held yours. His gold armor was traded for casual blacks, but the heat rolling off him was all battle-born adrenaline and want.

“You keep looking at me like that,” you murmured in his ear, “and I’ll start thinking you’re falling for me.”

He faltered—actually faltered. Blinked once, then twice.

You leaned in, lips grazing his jaw. “What’s the matter, Bly? Didn’t think I could flirt back?”

He opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

You slipped away with a smirk.

Gree was next—casual, clever, always too smooth for his own good.

“Careful,” you said, nursing a drink beside him at the bar. “You look like you’re planning something.”

“Just wondering how someone like you keeps every commander in the GAR wrapped around your finger.”

You leaned in, gaze dark. “Who says I don’t already have you wrapped around mine?”

He choked on his drink.

You patted his back, sweet as sin. “I’ll be gentle.”

⸻

Fox looked like he was ready for a war crime when you sat beside him.

“I thought you hated attention,” you said, sipping from your glass.

“I do.”

“And yet,” you murmured, brushing your knee against his, “you keep watching me like I’m a damn threat.”

Fox’s eyes flickered. His jaw clenched. “You are.”

You leaned close. “Then do something about it.”

He looked away. Tight. Tense.

Flustered.

⸻

Neyo didn’t flinch when you approached—but his grip on his glass tightened when you laid your hand lightly on his chest.

“You don’t say much,” you whispered, “but I bet you think about me more than you should.”

His eyes were locked on yours. Still silent.

“You going to prove me wrong?”

He looked down, just for a second. Then turned and walked away—only to stop, just out of reach, and glance back like he wanted you to follow.

God, he was dangerous.

Ponds approached and gave you a smile like calm water hiding a riptide.

“Having fun?” he asked.

“I am now.”

You rested a hand on his arm, feeling the strength there. “You ever going to stop being the sweet one?”

His smile dipped just slightly, darker now. “Only if you ask nicely.”

You stepped closer, voice low. “What if I beg?”

He stared at you like you’d kicked him in the chest.

Bacara barely moved when you brushed his hand at the table, except for the twitch in his jaw.

“You don’t talk much either.”

“I talk when there’s something worth saying.”

You tilted your head. “Then say something. Right now.”

Bacara met your gaze for a long, charged moment. Then—

“You’re dangerous.”

You smirked. “Took you that long to figure it out?”

He shifted in his seat, suddenly needing a long drink.

⸻

Wolffe was already grumpy when you got to him, sitting in the corner like he’d rather be anywhere else—but the second you sat on the arm of his chair, his whole body went rigid.

“What?” he grunted.

“Nothing,” you said sweetly, playing with the edge of his collar. “You just always look like you want to throw me against a wall.”

He inhaled sharply. “Don’t test me.”

“Oh, I am.”

And just for fun, you kissed his cheek. Quick. Sharp. Possessive.

Wolffe went absolutely still. “You’re a menace.”

“You like that.”

⸻

Cody found you at the end of the night—when your guard was just a little lowered, your drink half-finished.

“You were playing us all along,” he said, leaning on the bar beside you, eyes burning.

“Not playing,” you replied. “Just reminding you who’s in charge.”

He chuckled, low and slow. “Then dance with me.”

You didn’t resist when he pulled you back onto the floor, slower this time. Closer.

“You like control,” he murmured in your ear.

You turned in his arms, meeting his gaze dead-on. “Only when they’re strong enough to take it from me.”

Cody stared at you like he wanted to drag you out of the bar and ruin you.

And maybe… just maybe… you’d let him.

You hadn’t meant to start a war in 79’s—but then again, you’d never played fair, had you?

The music was sultry, all slow bass and sin. The lights were low. You’d been dancing with Cody for all of three minutes, and you could already feel the eyes on you. His eyes.

Fox had been brooding at the bar, nursing his whiskey, watching you like a hawk all night. You’d shared a moment earlier, sure—a drink, a brush of skin, words that lingered.

But now you were wrapped up in Cody.

Hands at your waist, lips near your ear, warm breath as he murmured, “You’re playing a dangerous game, General.”

You looked up at him, smug. “Only if someone plays back.”

Cody smirked. “Oh, I’m playing.”

He pulled you in tighter, hand trailing down your spine, and that was it—that was the trigger.

You didn’t see Fox at first—you felt him.

Storming across the floor like a man possessed. Controlled, measured fury wrapped in sleek civilian clothes. A few troopers nearby saw him coming and stepped aside like instinct told them don’t be in his way.

You barely had time to blink before—

“Enough.”

His voice cracked like a blaster shot.

Cody’s hand stiffened at your hip. You turned slowly—heart pounding—to find Fox right in front of you.

Eyes dark. Jaw clenched. Dangerous.

“What’s your problem?” Cody asked, tone calm but wary.

Fox didn’t look at him. Not once. His eyes were on you. “This what you came for?” he asked, voice low and bitter. “To play us against each other like it’s all some kind of game?”

You tilted your head, meeting his fury with wicked calm. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Commander.”

His hand shot out—not rough, not cruel—but demanding. His fingers wrapped around your wrist and tugged you a step closer. “I’m not jealous.”

“No?” you asked, breath catching slightly.

“I’m done pretending you’re just another officer.” His voice dipped, raw and sharp. “I see you dancing with him like that and I want to put my fist through the wall.”

A slow hush had fallen across the floor.

You stepped into Fox’s space, bodies nearly touching. “So do something about it.”

For a second, he didn’t breathe.

Then—

His hand slid to your waist. Possessive. Hot. “Dance with me,” he ordered. Not asked. Ordered.

You could have said no.

But you didn’t.

You let him lead you back to the center of the floor, every trooper watching now, every step like a declaration. Fox danced like he wanted to erase Cody’s hands from your skin. He kept you close. Too close. The kind of close that whispered mine without ever saying a word.

“Next time,” he growled in your ear, “I won’t be so polite.”

You smirked against his neck. “That was polite?”

He held you tighter. “You haven’t seen me lose control yet.”

And part of you—twisted, wild, aching—wanted him to.

⸻

A/N

No idea where I was going with this tbh, think I went down my own little route and it ended up liked this 🫤

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se-sissy-lina04 · 2 months ago

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Sissy’s Masterlist

CORRIDOR EXPANSION: THE SPECIALISTS ARE COMING

Moving into the building like a storm on Kamino. And not everyone is ready.

1. BLY & THE 327th FLOOR: “Jungle Vibes and Tactical Plants”

Floor aesthetic: All gold, all jungle foliage, half museum, half sniper nest.

Bly is deeply professional, but quietly dramatic. He builds a meditation corner with Aayla Secura quotes engraved in metal.

His troopers are the calm warriors—they look peaceful but have booby-trapped the elevator button.

Zee walks in one day and gets offered herbal tea and a laser-sight analysis of her posture.

Bly to Fox: “Our civvie is not just the building’s responsibility—she’s an ecosystem.”

Mephi pees on one of his exotic ferns. Bly is heartbroken.

2. BACARA & THE GALACTIC MARINES FLOOR: “Frozen Gym Bros”

Floor temp: 12 degrees Celsius. No one knows why.

Bacara: Intense. Stoic. Keeps a flamethrower in the hallway “for emergencies.”

Their idea of bonding? Cold showers and hand-to-hand sparring. At 5 a.m.

Zee steps out for caf in her slippers and is greeted by 20 shirtless Marines doing pushups in snow gear.

Bacara: “Good morning, civilian. Would you like to join our survival training?”

Zee: “I’m just trying to compost.”

They give her thermal socks and call her “Miss Zee” with terrifying formality.

Mephi won’t go near their floor. Too cold. Too growly.

3. NEYO & THE 91st FLOOR: “Bike Club & Brooding”

It’s basically a parking garage with blasters.

Neyo leads the “Clone Biker Club” with military precision. Zero small talk. All dark shades and brooding silences.

Their floor rumbles at all hours from bike tuning and hovercycle revs.

Zee complains once, Neyo installs noise-canceling insulation in her apartment himself and then disappears for three days.

No one’s seen his face. Mephi respects that. They nod at each other like two noir characters in a bar.

Rex: “No one knows what Neyo’s hobbies are.”

Anakin: “He is the hobby.”

4. GREGOR & THE COMMANDO FLOOR: “What Fresh Hell Is This?”

Gregor is insane in the best way.

Their floor? Booby-trapped funhouse. Random explosions. Foam dart wars.

Gregor runs through the halls in mismatched armor screaming “FOR THE REPUBLIC” while dual-wielding spatulas.

They have a bounce house in the rec room.

Mephi bit Gregor. Gregor congratulated him.

Zee’s first time up there, she fell through a false wall into a ball pit. Gregor handed her popcorn.

5. HOWZER & THE TWILEK LIBERATION SQUAD FLOOR: “Handsome, Humble, & Everyone’s New Crush”

A chill, plant-filled sanctuary.

They play soft music. Bake. Recycle. Have emotional check-ins.

Howzer is polite, ridiculously handsome, and the only one who calls her “Zee’ika.”

Every clone in the building is panicking.

Fives: “He’s not even trying and she smiled like he handed her the galaxy.”

Jesse: “No no no he’s a good guy—this is worse.”

Mephi immediately likes Howzer. He sits in Howzer’s lap. No one else is allowed to touch him now.

#clone trooper x reader #star wars: the clone wars #star wars au #clone trooper gregor #commander neyo #commander bly #commander bacara #captain howzer #327th star corps

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toska-writes · 1 year ago

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Clone commandos request if possible. 😁 Could you do delta squad. where on a mission they get captured along with the Padawan, and get protective when they try to separate them or interrogate them.

So i thought about writing a fic based on todays bad batch episode (but I need to get some of the requests done- if you wanna request some Wolffe *wink wink* that’s ok)

“Got your back”

Summary: a mission goes south with the delta squad but they have your back

Paring: The delta Squad/ republic commandos x padawan!reader (PLATONIC OFC)

Warning: slight mentions of injury and imprisonment nothing too bad… the most scary- not proofread

Word count: 1688

Notes: Delta Squad fics are not my “most popular” but ones I always do so much for and I don’t know why

Also I swear to god someone asked to join the Taglist but I can’t remember nor find it so let me know!

"Can you focus for one second Scorch? EVER?" Fixed screamed through the comms, you could see his tense movements from a mile away as the squad ducked once again behind a wall.

Boss could only nod this head, he quickly spun around from where you, Sev and him were hiding to shoot an incoming droid.

"Sorry Scorch I can't defend you this time it's not looking good." You spoke between gasp of your own breath, the adrenaline from the long hours fighting wearing on you and the whole group.

Sev leaned heavily on Fixer from where you could see him, though Scorch as of now was doing a good job covering them.

"Boss," You yelled over the hiss of a smoke bomb going off- the contents of which were going in your eyes and making you cough. "I'm all out of ideas here."

The comando spared you a glance for a second, you feared what his face would have looked like if his helmet was discarded.

Boss looked down at the padawan for a moment. A thin cut ran along their cheek way too close to their eye for Boss’s comfort. He watched their head whip around looking through the fog desperately before a huge bang went off.

After a moment of slight ringing Boss felt the bump of another person against his side. The padawan looked around frantically for the force of the bomb before looking up to the comando.

In a more solemn voice they asked. “Boss what are we gonna do?”

Boss thought about their options then. Backed into the corner of what should have been an abandoned outpost, on of their men injured and the rest ready to collapse from exhaustion. He as a leader thought he was better than this but Boss felt as if he walked his squad right into this trap.

“The missions easy enough for us.” Boss had said only hours before. A knot sat in his stomach but the team needed an easy mission, a break from their last fiasco with the bugs.

He’s never been more wrong in his life.

While he was lost in thought, Boss nearly missed Scorch sliding up next to their leader, his panicked voice tried to fill Boss’s ears.

For a moment the other comando didn’t realize the trooper in yellow was talking until Scorch made a shhh gesture with his hand.

That’s when you noticed it too, the complete lack of noise. No more clanker chatter or blaster bullets from each side. Just the low hiss of the fog that didn’t seem to die down.

You opened your mouth to say something before the unmistakable scraping of metals filled your ears.

“Rollies! get down!” Scorch shouted pulling you and Boss to the floor with him. About 5 Droidekas emerged from the smoke…. Lucky you guys.

“Scorch handle them.” Boss yelled using his hands to signal something at Fixer and Sev at the speed of light. His gruff tone scratched your ears but you all seemed pretty fed up at the situation.

Blaster bullets were blocked by your lightsaber left and right until the next words made your heart drop all together. “Out of hand grenades sir.” Scorch ripped his blaster out now but the shields were too strong on the droids.

“Down the hall!” Fixer yelled as both He and Sev passed the 3 of you, a way out hopefully planned.

You felt them before you saw them, you tried skidding to a stop before turning into the next hall as a hand shot out to grab Boss.

“Shit.” Was the only thing you could say, before they could question what you meant a group of comando droids emerged with guns drawn.

“You’ve got to be joking me.” Sev rasped out, his arm shook while he tried to lift his blaster up and fire. The tiredness leaked off of him though you were sure it did for everyone.

A ring of blue light hit the wall behind you. It didn’t make sense though, comando droids weren’t the type to show mercy.

Your lightsaber flashed along the darkened walls trying to keep the nimble droids away, why couldn’t the separatists just send the normal clankers.

Once again the hall was engulfed in a think smoke. You heard more blasters going off but you feared you were getting more and more disoriented. After a moment you heard a sickening thunk next to you and you assumed the worst.

In the blink of an eye you felt the blast hit its mark and half your body go limp. Unlike the bulking clones you were with it only took about 2 hits before you were out.

•✩•

Boss was the first one to awaken. His head bobbed around and his eyes fluttered open. Boss reached his hand up only to finally realize that his armor was gone.

He laid there for a moment, confusion laced his face. What had happened to him? To them….

In a split second Boss shot up to a sitting position , which his head greatly protested, and looked for the rest of his squad.

Relief was one of the best things in the galaxy in this moment. In the dim light of the ray shield keeping them in Boss could count the 3 other comandos and the form of their padawan knocked out next to Scorch.

Sev still looked bad as now Boss could get the full view of his gash along his side- the blacks on all of the men seemed to be tattered.

Boss observed their surroundings for a moment before giving a light tap to Fixer on the foot. When that didn’t work the first time a much hard kick was implemented.

Fixer gasped awake along with Scorch after a “friendly” tap from the clone comando.

I didn’t take Scorch long before he leaned back against the wall and groaned, clearly he knew the situation at hand.

Boss could only stare for another second at Sev, guilt rummaged through his insides as he helped his injured brother up ultimately waking him as well. This was his fault and Boss couldn’t shake that.

“Fixer start working on those bindings.” Boss ordered unable to keep his gaze on the unconscious padawan. Clearly to the eyes of their captors the Jedi was the bigger threat.

Sev hissed for a moment now finding a new brother to lean on.

You came to with the feeling of someone’s exposed hands brushing against your arms. The pounding in your head was present but the blanket of confusion was much scarier.

“Thanks for joinin’ us.” The unmistakable voice of scorch chimed in. Your eyes strained against the darkness but you could tell what the problem was.

The cool metal hurt your wrists as Fixer fiddled with them muttering a small apology every once in a while.

Boss’ low voice filled the cell, plans of just how they would get out to fight another day. Your eyes scanned the worrisome group.

Scorch sat fidgeting with his hands trying desperately to listen but you could see the worry in his eyes as clear as day.

Fixer sat in front of you cursing and apologizing but he just couldn’t seem to do anything useful without his tools and data pad.

Sev’s eyes closed everyone once in a while and you could see the fight to remain in the moment, though his scowl never seemed to be wiped off.

And finally Boss. His voice was level and low just like the countless other times you heard him give directions, however this time was different. He knew this wasn’t in their favor and he was worried beyond belief.

Someone had to stay strong for them all.

Your heartbeat beat out of your chest, a dull throb started in your temples the feeling seemed vaguely familiar.

“I think someone’s coming.” For the first time you were unsure in the force. Fixer faltered for a moment before meeting your eyes. “It’s probably these. Messing with you.” He shook the bindings.

Though to your surprise, and relief in a way, someone did make their way down the hall. Boss spoke out quickly as you averted your gaze, sweat started to form on your brow.

“We need a medic.” It was hard to call it pleading despite where Boss said it from his position on the floor, but it was definitely more of a demand.

2 masked figures approached though they seemed to ignore Boss all together.

“We need the Jedi.” The cool voice stated only once.

Everyone seemed to freeze for a moment unsure about which group would make the first move.

“Get up.” Was demanded at you and you glanced around meeting Boss’ eyes for only a moment before you gripped onto the sleeve of Fixer.

The ray shield was down now and the larger figure stepped in. “I’m not asking again”

“Like kriff they’re going with you.” Scorch stood in front of you now. His full height filled up their line of sight.

“Move clone.” For a second Scorch was pushed back that was until Boss stood as well and shoved their captor away from his brother.

Before the other could react with their blaster Scorch was all over them. Fixer taking the hint that their time was now scrambled to get their other brother still on the floor.

Your eyes were blown wide with the loud alarm that was set off. You felt someone grab your arm as you were still in a little daze.

“I hope you didn’t think we were really gonna let them take ya.” Scorch said as the group rushed down the halls.

You thought about that for a moment, had there truly been something to worry about while you were surrounded but the Delta Squad, your brothers?

A smile broke out of your face and Scorch seemed to get your reply.

“I hope you know.” Scorch called over his shoulder. “You’re never picking the missions by yourself again Boss.”

An angry yell was heard from somewhere behind you replacing the fear in your body with a laugh. “You were the one to pick the bug mission Scorch!”

______________________________

Taglist:

@arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @gregorsmissingarmor

#star wars #star wars clone wars #the clone wars #clone wars #the clone boys #my writing #toska-writes #clone boys #the delta squad #delta squad x reader #delta squad #republic commando #clone commando boss #clone commando fixer #clone commando sev #clone commando scorch #x platonic!reader #padawan reader #reader insert

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ct7567329 · 2 months ago

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Here and Gone ~ Sev x F! Civilian Reader

Summary: One day while hiking, you accidentally stumble upon a Republic sniper post, a quite handsome Commando seated inside. Suddenly, your hikes start to coincide with his shifts, giving you a reason to return again and again. In the quiet moments you share, something unspoken grows between you. Delta Squad Week Day 5 - We Have A Problem (alt) Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: canon-typical violence, mutual pining, angst, loss/separation (i'm sorry) A/N: i apologize for this one - i 1000% broke my own heart writing it (i actually gasped when i thought of this idea) tagging @deltasquadweek for generously hosting! (and the obligatory @orangez3st tag) join my taglist / masterlist

You knew the way by heart now. When the right time of day came, you made your way up the back slope, past the ridge next to the porg shaped stone, and lastly, over a narrow bend that still smelled faintly of burn marks from old blaster fire. The outpost in the canyon below seemed to been in its daily routine of shouted orders, the clatter of crates, the buzz passing speeders.

But you were headed to the sniper post high above the outpost. It sat like an afterthought above the rest. You always loved that first glimpse of Sev. As usual, he was hunched in his perch, rifle stretched across the makeshift barricade like an extension of his body.

Each time you made you way up here, you remembered the first time you accidentally stumbled upon Sev's post. You were hiking along the ridge, collecting various rocks and stones to bring back to the village to turn into jewelry when you caught a glimpse of him. His helmet was off, loose dark brown curls clinging to his forehead as he took a sip of water from his canteen.

He was gorgeous.

Just as you could begin taking the sight of him in, he put his helmet back on and diverted his attention back out to the distance. Carefully, you approached him, throwing out some flirty line about handsome soldiers needing to let their faces breathe, but he kept his helmet on. He did allow you to take a seat next to him though.

Although the conversation was short, you returned the next day, and the next, and the next, until you became another part of his daily routine.

Today, like always, you carried a full canteen and a pouch of fruit you'd bartered from the village. You dropped them next to where he crouched, placing them gently so they wouldn’t roll. The pouch made a soft thud as it hit the ground, but Sev didn’t move.

“I brought more of the sweet ones today,” you chirped, taking a seat a few feet away from him, “Figured you’d earned an upgrade from ration bars”

His helmet shifted just enough to acknowledge you without ever taking his eyes off the scope. It was a small movement, but you’d learned to read them like tells in a game of Sabacc.

You leaned your back to the post wall, arms resting loosely on your knees. The heat pressed down across your shoulders, but there was a breeze up here that took the edge off. The sun caught the side of his armor, making the red pattern gleam like a smear of dried blood. From this angle, he almost looked more like a statue than man.

“You sleep at all?” you asked, trying to make an attempt at conversation.

His reply was short as always, “Some.”

You tilted your head, watching his shoulders slowly rise and fall with each breath, “Define some.”

“Just enough,” he shrugged.

You huffed, “Spoken like a true soldier.”

He didn’t answer, but his helmet shifted again, just a few degrees toward you, like he was listening more closely than he let on. It wasn’t much, but you took anything you could get.

“I heard the scouts saw nothing in the canyons today,” you noted after a few minutes, “That makes, what, four days with no movement?”

“Five,” Sev corrected, adjusting his weapon.

“So we’re overdue?" you suggested, throwing a shoulder up. He didn’t confirm or deny it, but his grip tightened slightly around the rifle. Your eyes dropped to the untouched canteen, “Hydration isn’t a sign of weakness, you know.”

“Neither is awareness,” he countered, running a finger along the barrel of his blaster.

You smirked, “You really do have a response for everything, don’t you?”

Sev let out a dry snort, “Only the important things.”

Your eyes drifted out across the ridgeline, where desert met sky in a blur of heat and quiet. There was something that must have been peaceful for him about this elevation and being removed from the decisions and orders and stress below. Sev made it his own. Or maybe it had made him.

“How long do you think you’ll be posted here?” you asked, still fixated on the horizon.

Sev didn't answer. You didn't even a hear a muffled static breath from under his helmet. You glanced over. His body hadn’t shifted, but his fingers hovered near his scope, motionless. He was frozen, like he’d been caught thinking about something he wasn’t supposed to.

You opened your mouth to ask again, but stopped yourself. Now that you were looking closely, there was something else off today. It wasn't just the quiet, he was always quiet, but it felt like there was something lying outside your grasp that he knew he had to protect you from, but couldn't. Or he was seeing something through the scope that you couldn’t see.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your voice thick with concern.

“I’m fine," he snapped back too quickly.

You frowned, “You don’t seem fine.”

He paused for a moment before exhaling deeply, “Soldiers don’t get the luxury of seeming anything.”

The statement sat heavy on you, but you didn’t argue. You knew he’d only shut down if you pushed. So instead, you leaned back again and let the silence stretch, trying to convince yourself it was just a bad night’s sleep, or tension from watching an empty desert for too long. Not whatever funk this was.

Sev finally moved. It was just the smallest tilt of his neck, angling his head down toward the fruit pouch at his side. He reached one hand down and unhooked the flap and took out a small piece, holding it between his fingers like it was foreign. He then brought it beneath his helmet and ate it in two quiet bites.

The progress made a smile pull at the corner of your mouth, “Told you it was worth trying.”

He shook his head , “It's still too sweet.”

You turned your face toward the sun and shut your eyes for just a moment, sighing. You weren’t going to ask what was bothering him again, but the thought lingered, "You’re impossible.”

“I wasn't talking about the fruit,” he admitted.

In an instant, you snapped your head to face him. Something was coming. You could feel it, but you just didn’t know what.

Sev was still frozen in place. His helmet faced forward, but his body was taut like the way a predator crouches before the strike. Your gaze followed his, tracking what he saw in the distance.

“Sev?” his name escaped your lips involuntarily as you watched a small transport in the distance begin to close in.

His voice cut through the stillness, “We have a problem.”

You blinked, heart skipping, “What—”

Before you could finish, his hand snapped out, grabbing your arm with a grip that brooked no argument, “Move.” There was no panic in his voice, but no room for hesitation either. The cold command made your skin prick with unease.

You didn’t hesitate. You scrambled to your feet, stumbling over the loose gravel at the edge of the sniper platform. His body moved quickly, closing around you like a shield. The closeness of him comforted you in the moment of chaos. You could barely keep up, panic knotting your stomach.

Sev led the way down the narrow metal ladder that creaked beneath your feet, until you reached a small, grimy door hidden in the side of the canyon. It hissed open and he pulled you inside, pressing you hard against the cold wall. The room was dark and cramped, stocked with crates and supplies. It must have been the outpost’s forgotten storage bunker.

He kept you against the wall, fingers tight on your arm as he scanned the entryway, “Stay quiet."

You nodded, your lips pressed firmly together as you waited. Your eyes flickered between the cracked vent above, the shadowed corners and the door. Your held your breath every time the metal door rattled in its frame, and with every distant echo that might signal an attack.

But nothing came. There was no blaster fire, no shouted warnings, no pounding footsteps, no nothing. Just silence.

Sev’s grip softened but didn’t release, “We have a problem,” he repeated quietly.

You swallowed hard, “What is it?”

You risked a glance at him, searching for answers in his motionless form, “Sev please,” you whispered, your voice breaking, “what’s happening? What’s the problem?”

He didn't respond.

You swallowed the lump of fear and frustration that had settled there and tried again, louder, more desperate, “Sev, talk to me.”

Slowly, he reached for his helmet’s latch. The hiss as the seal released seemed to echo through the air, filling the room with the release of some sort of tension.

The helmet slid back, revealing his face. It was raw in a way you hadn’t seen before. His eyes met yours, dark pools shimmering with a storm of emotions you couldn’t quite name.

“There’s no threat,” he confessed, “I lied.”

His words hit you like a blast. Confusion flared to anger, hot and unforgiving. “You lied?” You hissed, furrowing your brows, “How could you do that? Why would you scare me like that?”

Sev opened his mouth to speak, the quickly closed it, pinching the bridge of his nose. Finally he collected his words, "I never meant for any of this to happen."

You threw your arms up bitterly, "For what? To scare the kriff out of me?"

“It’s my last day here,” he admitted softly, “That transport is my shift relief. I'll be off world by nightfall."

The sharp edge of your anger faltered, replaced by a wave of aching disbelief, “You didn’t tell me?” you whispered, just barely loud enough for him to hear, “Why wouldn't you tell me?"

He ran a hand through his dark hair. It was a rare, human gesture that caught you off guard, “I didn’t know how to say goodbye.”

Your chest tightened as you searched his eyes. Beneath the armor, beyond the stoic soldier, you saw an uncertain, afraid, hurt man.

“The real problem,” he sighed, reaching for your hands, “is that I didn’t want to leave you.”

Your heart pounded so fiercely it felt like it would shatter your ribs.

He looked away, his shame making him want to vomit, “I never thought someone like me could have a moment like this. This small, quiet part of the day with someone who’s not afraid.”

You stepped closer, your hand reaching out to his chest with a tenderness that surprised even yourself. Resting gently on him, you let your fingers brush the cold plastoid.

“Sev,” you loved saying his name, “you’re not alone.”

His eyes met yours again, and for the first time, you saw a crack in his armor wider than any bullet hole.

The world outside faded away, the tension and fear replaced by something fragile and real. Here, in this small dark room, there was only you and him.

But there couldn't be something new.

You stayed close, your fingers resting lightly on Sev’s armor. You could feel a faint tremor beneath the thickness, subtle but unmistakable. The soft mechanical hum of his suit was the only sound beyond your breaths.

Sev shifted, the movement slight but deliberate. He rose his hand slowly and touched your cheek with feather-light contact, like he was afraid the moment might shatter if he was too rough.

The warmth surprised you. It caught you off guard how something so small could mean so much. You didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned in, eyes searching his face beneath the stoic composure he's been forced to maintain his whole life.

Then you saw it. A single tear, almost invisible in the dim light, traced down his cheek and vanished under his jaw. It was a quiet tear, but it felt like the whole war laid bare in that one drop.

You felt your throat tighten. You wanted to reach out and wipe the tear away from under his chin, but somehow, you knew you shouldn’t.

“I’ll always remember this place,” he rasped, “The sounds. The way the wind moves over the ridge. The light when dawn breaks.” He dipped his head just a fraction, “And you."

You managed a small, bittersweet smile., “Thank you for letting me come up here. For enjoying this view with you.”

For a heartbeat, his lips curved into a ghost of a smile. It was a rare break in his usual guarded expression, a glimpse of the man beneath the armor. Before you could fully enjoy it, the soldier in him took over again. His posture stiffened, and his armor seemed to reclaim its cold edge.

“We should get you down,” you reluctantly murmured.

The walk back was quiet except for the faint whistle of the wind. Everything felt vast and fragile all at once.

When you reached the shuttle, Sev stopped and faced you. The helmet visor reflected the soft lights, but you could see the vulnerability in his eyes.

He took a deep breath, “I’ll carry this place with me. Every detail. The smell of earth after rain, the way the light catches your face.”

You blinked, surprised by how intimate that sounded. The world seemed to hold its breath. Reaching our, you rested your hand on his chestplate. “Thank you,” you whispered. “For this. For everything.”

His helmet lifted slightly, a nod, and then his hand touched your cheek again. The contact was brief but full of meaning. You looked into his eyes, wanting to say more, but words failed you.

He turned and stepped toward the shuttle. The hatch slid shut behind him with a soft hiss, and the engines roared to life.

You stood there as the shuttle lifted, carrying him away from you, from this place. But in the quiet left behind, you felt the imprint of him settle inside you. You breathed in the cool night air, tasting the faint scent of rain on the wind, and closed your eyes.

Maybe someday, you told yourself, you’d find your way back to a place like this. Find your way back to him. Until then, you would hold onto this. The touch of his hand and memory of what almost was.

For now, that would have to be enough.

#deltasquadweek #republic commando #delta squad #sev x reader #clone x reader #star wars fandom events #delta squad x reader #clone x you #sev x you #clone commando sev #delta squad sev

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madman479r · 1 year ago

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Commander Jaune of the 229th Clone Legion of the Grand Army of the Republic with his Jedi General Ruby Rose

Personality:

Due to an experiment, in which he was given memories of the original Jaune Arc donor, he has many similar personality traits. And such, to honor the original Jaune Arc, he took up the name and customised his armour to resemble his donor's, even having his symbol over the chest plate of his heart, to show that Jaune Arc lived on still.

Due to this, Jaune has the best scores in tactical thinking and hand-to-hand, along with creative and independent thinking.

However, this came as a double edge sword to the Kaminoans, who didn't like this level of independence and individuality, but he showed exceeding promise as a soldier and commander and wasn't terminated.

But the use of Jaune Arc's memories for other clones was scrapped, for they feared too many clones with a similar personality would rebel or be a threat.

To combat this, Commander Jaune was put through extensive and rigorous training, as they wanted to remove any immaturity and goody two shoes attitude. This only strengthened Jaune's kind heartedness and empathy though, which is why he was a perfect match for Jedi Ruby Rose as his General.

Phase III Clone armour with customised helmet

Weapons:

Standard issue DC-15A Blaster

Dual wielding DC-17

Vibroblade (taken from commando droid)

#rwby #jaune arc #star wars #star wars clone wars #fan design #clone trooper

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wings-and-beskargam · 3 months ago

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Love all the lads, but especially love the DC-15s pistol. 🩵

I’m building one right now, and it’s definitely a big-boy blaster!

So here's some of this week's drawings/sketches

Wish I could have done more but there are museums and memorials and military cemeteries to visit 🫡 (< I realise that might be an odd sentence, but I'm currently on a (mostly) WWI battlefield camping trip so that makes it valid I guess)

Some are ideas/WIPs for Delta Squad Week, others are to experiment with my fineliners (which I used to be better at, before I grew too fond of the ctrl + Z function on my digital drawing screen), and some are totally random/comfort drawings I guess.

I'm still outside camping (we'll be heading home on Saturday), so no taglist I'm sorry I hope you'll forgive me, otherwise have a cookie 🍪

#republic commando #dc-15s blaster pistol

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hellfiresky · 2 months ago

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Thought this was a simple recce mission

Day 7 of @deltasquadweek | Kashyyyk

Summary: What started as a quiet recce mission with Boss quickly devolves into a skirmish through the Kashyyyk jungle.

Word count: 5294 words Pairing: Boss (RC-1138) x F!Reader (Reader is described as jacked, competent, machete-wielding, and raised on Kenari) Warnings: Canon-typical violence. Gore. Close-quarters combat. Blood. Machete kills. One (1) very kissy commando. Everyone's feral, but it works.

Divider by @orangez3st

The jungle of Kashyyyk was a temple of lush greenery and roots bigger than one single hovertrain car back in Triple Zero. Towering Wroshyr trunks loomed overhead like pillars of some ancient Jedi temple you once read in your storypad when you were a kid. Thick veils of moss draped from their limbs, swaying to remind you that yes, the wind was moving, and no, you are not tall enough to get the freshest one up there.

And stars, the plants. If you weren’t already tripping over roots or ducking under ferns the size of a BARC speeder, you were marveling at them. A brilliant cluster of Saava vine bloomed along a fallen log, petals pulsating an unholy red beam that screamed “touch me and die.” Which, you would, if you touched it - or even stood too close to it. You resisted. Nearby, a patch of vineberry creepers had completely claimed a collapsed observation post, tendrils curling possessively around a rusted metal table. You paused to run a hand across the mossy trunk of a juvenile Bonshyyyr tree, thinking of clipping a vine and bringing it home.

“Boss!” you yelled as you ducked under a low branch thick with hanging Hoya vines. “If you got eaten by some jaw plants, I swear to your Mandalorian dad, I will…”

The jungle answered with nothing but the buzz of insects and the distant roar of a very large creature (and hopefully very herbivorous). Goosebumps ran down your spine. You took a deep breath to calm your thudding heart. The last thing you wanted was to become part of the local food chain. But before you cover yourself with the nearest giant foliage, a loud and gritty voice rang out from somewhere in the distance.

“HOOOOOLD MEE NOOOOW”

You froze. That sounded eerily like…

“I’M SIX FEET FROM THE EDGE AND I’M THINKIN”

“No,” you whispered to no one but the passing firefly. “No, no, no, absolutely not—”

“…MAYBE SIX FEEET AIN’T SOOOO FAAAAR DOOOWN!!”

“Oh my god.” Ignoring the absolutely terrifying thought of getting lost in the wilderness of the Wookiee homeworld, you slapped a hand over your face, torn between relief and horror. “Is that what Scorch meant when he said Boss could do some mean echolocation?”

“BOSS!” You screamed your lungs out before breaking into a sprint towards the voice. “BOSS, WHERE ARE YOU?”

From somewhere beyond rows of massive Wroshyr trees, Boss’ voice rang out again, “FOLLOW THE CREED! WITH AAAARMS WIDE OPEN….”

Nearly tripping over your own feet laughing, you carefully moved between a bush of massive Monstera deliciosa, a familiar sight even in this alien jungle, thanks to its pan-planetary spread. Some bore fruit, and one was ripe enough to eat, its scales just starting to peel. You climbed the thick tree trunk behind it to pluck the sweet infructescence. The fruit would be leagues better than whatever ration bar Boss stuffed into your backpack.

“You’re a lunatic! What are you doing?!” you yelled after claiming the fruit, pushing past a screen of underbrush and stumbling into the clearing.

And there he was. Standing on a moss-covered ledge, arms opened wide in all his white-orange armour glory. Helmet dangling from the side of his pack. Blaster holstered. Boots muddy up to his shins. You skidded to a halt, chest heaving. And the lunatic standing five metres in front of you didn’t stop singing.

It definitely wasn’t what you pictured when you signed up as a jungle terrain specialist for the Grand Army of the Republic. Not in your wildest dreams. Back then, it had all sounded… noble. Growing up in Kenari, the jungle was your first language. You followed your parents to Corellia when they accepted a job at a starship factory, and suddenly all that knowledge of topography, humidity patterns, edible plants, terrain mapping, hostile flora, safe treetop paths became a skillset. You started small by working offworld expeditions - assisting in planetary surveys to help archaeologists not get eaten by vines. By the time the war started, you had a nice resume that was basically a goldmine for the war efforts.

You weren’t a soldier. But you were the one they called when the terrain could kill the clones faster than the droids.

“Honey,” you wheezed, “we’re lost.”

“No. I left trails of expired protein bar crumbs as I walked.” A rare boyish toothy smile appeared on his face.

“And pray tell, point me to those crumbs?” You raised both eyebrows before squatting down along the path where he pointed.

The sun lit up the back of his head, casting a golden halo behind his mop of overgrown curls. The sergeant gestured towards a slope of leaf litter to your right. You turned to look, brushing aside a clump of moss and a brittle curl of bark, squinting into the layers of rotting leaves and decomposing pods shed by the massive trees above. Nothing. Not a single of protein anything. Just a pillbug the size of your thumb glaring up at you for disturbing its living room.

“Hm?” You smiled sweetly, rising to your feet with a dead leaf stuck to your knee. “Was the plan to train a squad of squirrels to follow the protein trail?”

Boss tilted his head. “Must’ve been the wind.”

“Must’ve been the wind,” you echoed flatly, brushing your hands off. “Tell me again, very slowly, how you lot managed to stage a secret search-and-rescue op for Sev without active Command approval, a navigation map, or help from me?”

“We guessed really hard.”

Your head dropped back as uncontrollable laughter broke free, echoing through the underbrush. The uneven ground caused you to stumble, nearly toppling into a patch of a questionable berry shrub. “Oh my god,” you wheezed. “You guys are, objectively, terrible.”

“Nah,” Boss stepped forward to grab your arm and steady you. “We’re actually the best commando squad out there. Objectively.”

“Debatable,” you grinned as he pulled you upright. Warming the cold space between you. “What were we looking for again that got us off track from the camp?” From the corners of his mouth, it was clear that it had always been his idea. You let him brushed moss off your sleeve before he leaned forward and planted a loud kiss on the top of your head.

“Recon on that collapsed root system west of camp,” he finally replied, tone slipping back into commando mode. “We need to know if it could be reinforced as a future fallback shelter. By ‘future,’ I mean in the next forty-eight hours. And I couldn’t spare the others - Scorch is coordinating our demolition plans, Fixer’s rewriting the encryption for our perimeter beacons, and Sev’s... on overwatch, on a tree somewhere.”

Absorbing the real reason behind this impromptu two-person field trip, you smiled to yourself, and maybe to him. “So,” you ignored that eerie sound of a large animal somewhere in the massive jungle again, “you actually asked for clearance to bring me in... to help?”

He raised a brow under his mop of curls.

“Not for a hiking date?” a crooked smile grew on your face.

He didn’t deny it. Boss simply shrugged and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “Two birds, one blaster bolt.”

“Oh wow. Romance,” you deadpanned.

“Come on, this is fun!” he chided, bumping your shoulder with his as the two of you trudged back onto the trail. Judging by the movement of the wind and the shift in the canopy light, it was clear you were finally heading towards the collapsed system. You caught the first telltale whiff in the air - humid, rich, and slightly sweet with decay. Not only damp earth, but also standing water.

“Oh stars,” your nostrils flared as the scent thickened. “We’re heading for a lake.”

Boss glanced at you. “Problem?”

You rolled your eyes. “Lakes are a problem. So are swamps. Wet zones mean unpredictable microclimates, unstable footing, and entire ecosystems of insects that don’t show up on Republic databanks.”

“Sounds like Sev’s dating history.”

You barked a laugh, but it was short-lived. Already, the landscape was changing. Ferns gave way to broad-leafed plants with thick waxy surfaces, and the buzzing of massive insects grew louder - less like relaxing background ambience, more like a warning siren pitched in a frequency you’d learned to respect. Still, you couldn’t help the thrill that prickled at your spine as a breath of movement caught your eye.

“Lung plants,” It was always a thrill seeing them in the wild - those massive, dome-shaped flora pulsing gently with life like sleeping beasts. Back on Kenari, you'd been obsessed with the tiny touch-me-not leaves that snapped shut with a finger's graze. These were the same principle, just a hundred times larger and more flamboyant. “There!” you pointed with wide eyes. “They’re ballooning. See that expansion? When threatened, they fill their body cavity with air to appear larger. But what you didn’t know is it’s part of their respiration. Pressure-driven. They filter methane from the soil and spit it back out as clean oxygen.”

Boss squinted towards the writhing grove ahead. “So… you’re excited about a plant that breathes? All plants breathe.”

“They inflate,” you said reverently, almost offended at the understatement. “You can bounce off them if you catch the rhythm right.”

“That sounds incredibly safe,”

“Oh, it’s not. One misstep and you land in a pit of leeches or trigger a mating call from terentateks. But it’s fun.”

Both of you stopped for a moment as a guttural splash echoed from deeper in the undergrowth. Your hand instinctively went to the machete clipped to your thigh.

“…And with lung plants,” you added grimly, “come jaw plants.”

“Big ones?” Boss’s smile dropped.

You gave him a look. “Boss. You saw what that thing did to our training droid last mission.”

“Right,” he muttered. “The droid that got folded.”

“Exactly. That thing could’ve eaten Fixer.”

“Tempting.”

You snorted despite yourself and pulled out the machete. “Alright, Sergeant. Lead the way to our next encampment.”

Boss raised his deecee with a grin. “With arms wide open.”

“You start singing again, I’m feeding you to the Whyyyschokk.”

“They’re insects. Herbivores,” Boss lowered his voice instinctively as you reached the lake clearing. It wasn’t quite a beach - more like a dark and humid tropical pit. The lake stretched out before you, black and still, its surface barely visible under the shadow of drooping ferns and interlocking trees that blotted out what little sunlight remained. Everything smelled fresh with a hint of rot.

“My nav’s functioning again,” Boss said. “Five more klicks and we’re there.”

“Careful not to slip,” you murmured, trailing close behind as the two of you stepped out onto a massive fallen Wroshyr branch, horizontally submerged and slick with algae. The path across the lake wasn’t natural - jury-rigged from collapsed wooden scaffolding, durasteel remnants, and what looked suspiciously like the decaying skeleton of an old scout camp. Could’ve been Republic. Could’ve been Wookiee. Could’ve been Trandoshan.

You didn’t speak. Neither did he. You both knew what that kind of detritus meant - someone had died here. Probably more than one. Probably recently.

Years of surviving in the jungle made you automatically hold your breath as the sound came faintly above the canopy. A haunting, flutelike echo that gives you chill down your spine. “Did you hear that?”

“Mhm.” Boss unlatched his helmet from his pack, the familiar hiss of it sealing onto his head breaking the silence. “Your blasters charged?”

“Always. Machete wouldn’t cut this one.” You paused. “No pun intended.”

Boss didn’t laugh.

“That sounded like a Shyyyo bird,” you tried to convince yourself, ignoring the way your heart rate spiked up.

“No. That sounded like a recorded Shyyyo bird, babe.”

You didn’t even have time to curse before you landed on the far side of the lake and he shoved you down behind him, guiding you both beneath the curtain of a single giant pleated frond with the width of a LAAT/i hatch. “That was a Trandoshan dropship,” his modulated voice was forcefully hushed. “We didn’t expect them to drop by this early.”

Staring through the dense green, your heart stopped beating for a millisecond as you spotted non-organic movements above the treetops. “I thought the battle was over when you first came here,” you whispered.

Boss ignored you as his fingers gripped the blaster tighter. “When we had to leave Sev, you mean?”

You nodded.

He exhaled slowly. “We didn’t win. We just left. Winning would be rescuing Sev that day.”

You reached out, gently resting your hand on the back of his spaulder.

“But you still rescued him,” you hummed softly. “Yeah it took months, but you brought him home. He’s somewhere near camp doing overwatch.”

Boss didn’t turn around, but you saw the tension leave his shoulders for a moment. Long enough to remember you weren’t alone in this goddamn jungle. Then it was gone, replaced with the familiar readiness as plans forming in his head. “I need your eyes on the canopy,” he murmurred. “If they’re poachers, they’ll move high. Trandoshans like the vertical hunt - it’s psychological. Dominance from above. But if they’re scouts, they’ll fan out around water, set perimeter tripwires, maybe bait the path behind us.”

You slowly slid your hand to the blaster at your hip, already tracking the subtle movements in the foliage overhead. The trees weren’t swaying normally anymore - too much movement in too many directions. You clicked your commlink on low-bandwidth passive mode and nodded.

“And if they’re both?”

Boss’s helmet turned slightly towards you. “Then we bounce.”

“Fallback Plan Three-One-Three?” You grinned.

He returned the grin, which was visible in his modulated voice. “That’s the one.”

“Double back west for one klick through the gully under the root bridge. Use elevation to skirt the basin and avoid the carnivorous plant grove. We cut across the fungal shelf to the northern ridge and use the collapsed comms tower as cover. Once we reach the clearing, we loop into camp through the old Wookiee aqueduct trench because it is easily defensible.”

Boss chimed in, “And if engaged, we break contact and suppress. One pushes, one covers. Closest safe zone is that trampled Wroshyr copse we passed half a klick back. Or we can push through to the root system. You still have detcord?”

You patted the pouch at your belt. “Three metres and a remote charge. Just in case.”

“Good. You run, I’ll draw.”

“You run, I draw,” you corrected with a punch to his shoulder. “You’re still recovering from that pit incident yesterday.”

“Battle damage,” he shrugged your concern off, gesturing for you to follow as he crept along the outer curve of the lake. You both kept low, ducking beneath thick drapes of vines and stepping silently over twisted roots slick with algae. “See that?” he pointed through a break in the foliage.

Beyond the tree line, hovered the unmistakable silhouette of a Trandoshan dropship, its belly lights casting spears of greenish glow through the mist.

“Again,” you grunted, stepping carefully over a submerged log, “you still haven’t answered my question about the battle being over.”

“Over or not…” Boss exhaled through his nose. “Trandoshans hunt for sport. Not just on Wasskah, on any ground that suits them. Jungle, city, slum, doesn’t matter.”

“Like for food?”

“No,” he said grimly. “People. Sentient beings. Wookiees. Soldiers. Captured younglings. Anyone they can toss into a kill-zone and chase. It’s a coming-of-age ritual for their hunting clans. A blood rite. Was this not in your environment guidebook growing up?”

“I’m a jungle specialist,” you deadpanned, “not an enemy specialist.”

“Welcome to the crossover episode.” Boss gave a humourless chuckle.

Ducking under a hanging vine, you emerged beside him, using your scope to scan the lake’s far ridge. The dropship was beginning to descend, angling its nose towards the jungle. A soft thump in the distance signaled cargo hitting dirt. “They’re not just here for recon,”

“Nope.”

“Think they’ve seen us?”

Boss unlocked the safety on his deecee. “Not yet.”

“But they will?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Good. Let them try.”

Deciding it was safe to keep going since the dropship you'd spotted earlier had veered northeast while you were headed due west, you and Boss moved in near silence for the past thirty minutes. Words were traded for hand signals, steps kept light and low as the canopy thickened around the lake’s edge. The deeper you pushed into the western sector, the darker the jungle became - not because night had fully fallen (though it had), but because the Wroshyr trees above had fused into an unbroken ceiling of moss-covered branches, blotting out all but the occasional glimmer of dying golden light. Boss’s tracker pinged softly, only under a klick left now. The collapsed root system lay ahead, waiting to be surveyed for its potential as a fallback encampment. If you made it there.

And that was a foolish hope. Just as you made it to the vicinity of the root system, a metallic sound snapped overhead, followed by a whiplike twang, then finally, a violent cascade of motion from above. You dove on instinct, pushing Boss away, shoulder hitting the loam hard as a weighted net fell from the trees, smacking the ground beside you.

“Trap!” you drew your blaster as Boss slammed to a crouch beside you, glowing visor tracking the treetops with the eerie calm that you had never seen before. From where you were crouched, you could see the net clearly, woven from coarse and weather-worn fibers. Thick enough to hold a fully grown Wookiee. Mold crept along the edges in fuzzy green clumps, clumping through the cordage. It wasn’t fresh. It probably had been set long before your team even made orbit. There were red dots decorating the anchor points; nestled in the base of one was a tiny motion alarm node.

“If it catches something and they struggle,” Boss added quietly, “it sends a ping to the hunters. Like ringing the dinner bell.”

You swept your torch low across the ground. The undergrowth had been recently disturbed. Leaves torn, soil kicked up in wide, uneven prints. Sap still oozed from the trunk of a young Muja tree. You moved slowly, tracing the chaotic pattern. Humanoid footprints, erratic spacing. They’d been running fast. A herd of frightened beings had passed through here not long ago.

“Oh stars,” you whispered, breath fogging against the thickening air. “They released the captives here. Just like you said.”

“Ritual hunt.” Disgust filled every syllable Boss uttered. You didn’t need to look at him to know what was on his face. That cold fury he always got when something hit too close to old trauma. “Initiation rite.”

He was moving before the words even finished leaving his mouth. With your heart pounding, you went after him, ducking through low-hanging branches and thorny brambles, breath burning in your chest as the humidity thickened around you like soup. The net hadn’t been for you, but that didn’t matter now. You were in the hunting ground. Uninvited. Unwanted. And very likely to end up as a part of the game.

Twenty metres in, and the jungle was completely changed. As if someone had reached into the atmosphere and turned the dial down. The chirps of the night birds had gone silent. No insect wings droning overhead. Even the croaking sound of cicadas had ceased in the canopy. The whole biome had sucked in a breath, waiting to see what happened next.

Then the world exploded.

A detonation. No. A flare erupted ahead, flooding the foliage with a harsh red-orange light. You hit the ground on reflex, rolling behind a knotted root system as a body slammed into the dirt nearby. Rising fast with your blaster out, you stood up just in time to see the form thrashing in a snare - another net trap. They were barely more than a teenager, and they were screaming incoherently. The scream was cut off as a shadow dropped silently from the trees.

It was one of the Trandoshans - nearly seven feet tall, a serrated blade in one hand and a blaster in the other. As you turned to check on your partner, he was already gone. One second he was next to you. The next, he was in it.

Boss drove his vibroblade up into the Trandoshan’s side with terrifying precision, cutting into scale and thick muscle. The massive lizard shrieked and reeled, swinging back with brute force, but Boss was faster. He strikes again, and again, never giving the bastard space to retaliate. By the time the thing collapsed face-first into the moss, leaking dark ichor from a dozen wounds, Boss was scoping the trees above you.

The kid passed out. You were at their side in an instant, knees in the dirt, blaster holstered as your hands went to work. It was a Theelin girl, maybe fifteen with a lightweight frame, thin breath pushing through cracked lips. You carefully unclipped the net’s locking mechanism, hauled the fiber off her body, and checked for vitals. “Alive,” you muttered. “Out cold, but stable.”

“Five more incoming. Heat signatures closing fast. They’re spread wide, trying to box us in.” Boss pulled you up to stand.

“Cloaked?”

“Some. We need high ground.”

You looked up through the knot of tangled branches above, then towards west where the ground rose in a natural slope of interwoven Wroshyr roots and shattered debris. The collapsed root system. Your original target. “The root system,” you breathed fast. “We’re close. It’s just ahead. We can use it.”

Boss nodded. “Take the left incline. Don’t fire unless you have to, stick to your machete.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” You cocked your head to the side with one hand gripping your blaster, the other hefting the unconscious Theelin over your shoulder.

“Sensitive hearing,” Boss tapped the side of his helmet as he moved in front of you. “Blaster fire’ll give them a hard signal to zero in. But you—” He turned to look back at you under the shadow of the trees. “I saw you fight a couple of B2s with a machete on Felucia, remember?”

You groaned, shifting the kid’s weight. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

“You didn’t just survive. You decapitated them.”

“I panicked!”

“Do it again. But with organics this time.”

You swore under your breath and followed, machete unsheathed in one hand, the weight of the unconscious girl dragging against your broad back like an extra carrier. You hated that he made sense. Hated even more that some buried, feral part of you wanted the fight. That’s just what life on Kenari trained into you - survive first, ask questions never. Fight, fight, and fight again until the ground bled or you did. Your tribe had always favoured traditional weapons. Machetes, blades, sharpened bamboos, blow darts. You still remembered the first time you took down a raider at thirteen with gritted teeth, blade covered in their blood.

The Grand Army taught you more than that, of course. Formations. Rifle drills. Small demolitions and tech. But hand-to-hand was where you shone. You were close - damn close - to being offered a place among the frontliners. Captain Rex himself once joked you could’ve been the first non-clone trooper, if they ever rewrote regulations. You almost believed him. But someone had to know the difference between a carnivorous plant and an edible one. So you stuck to what you were best at - helping them recon and stay alive during jungle ops. And when survival meant drawing blood with a machete instead of a DC-17, well. You were still damn good at it.

The jungle came back to life as the night birds started singing again, but only from far off, warning each other. Five more Trandoshans, he said? Maybe. Maybe more.

You tightened your grip on the machete, thumb finding the worn groove in the handle to relax yourself. Boss had gone quiet ahead of you. You could feel the tension coil off him before the man stopped altogether. “Cover my back,” he said. One hand rose to the side of his helmet, turning off the soft blue visor light that had been projecting pale blue reflections across the underbrush. “They’re above us,” he added, quieter still.

You didn’t ask how he knew. Boss didn’t guess. Boss knew.

You kept close behind him, pivoting so your back was to his, your stance widening just enough to shift the Theelin girl’s weight and free your striking arm. The canopy above you groaned before exactly five cords snapped down, and the Trandoshans followed, vicious and hissing, the humid air instantly choked with the meaty stench of unwashed scales and recycled breath. You could hear the wet exhale of each hunter as they landed with their weapons in hand.

“Is blaster still not allowed for backup?!” you snarled, elbowing Boss in the ribs as you shifted the girl’s weight again.

“Nah, do whatever!” he snapped.

The Trandoshan to your left lunged first to go for the girl, thinking she was the easiest prey but your machete met him halfway. It arced up in a tight slash, catching the side of his snout. His scream was a gurgling hiss as blood sprayed hot against your shoulder. Your knee came up into his gut, and as he folded, you turned the blade around in a reverse grip and drove it straight down into the soft meat between neck and collar. The Theelin girl slipped lower on your back, and you adjusted her weight while getting out of the way of a second attacker barreling in from your right.

Ducking low, you let his momentum carry him forward, and swept your leg out to catch his ankle. He hit the dirt hard, but you couldn’t finish him. Another one was on your left, claws reaching for your arm. But before you knew it, you saw a flash of white-orange armour blur past your peripheral, his vibroblade was slicing your opponent until that one was down too. Behind you, the sound of blaster fire broke through the night, and a body collapsed into the moss with a thump.

“Should’ve gone with blasters since the beginning,” you started.

“Plans change!” he barked.

The one you'd tripped was up again. You fixed the girl’s position on your shoulder to sheath your machete and draw your DC-17, firing a ruthless burst of bolts into his chest one after the other, burning straight through armour and scale. He staggered but kept coming, blood bubbling from his wide mouth full of canines as he lunged. You stepped forward and kicked hard into his midsection. He crumpled backward, dazed. One step was all you needed. With your machete back in hand. You dropped to a knee, brought the blade down in one clean arc. It sank into the space between clavicle and throat with a satisfying crunch.

The Theelin girl was slipping again. You pivoted on instinct, crouching low and pulling her into cover with you. A blaster bolt grazed the air where your face had just been. You quickly turned, aimed, and fired. Two Trandoshans down. Plus the other two that Boss took down earlier, that made four.

One left.

The largest of the group. And you could feel his presence stalking towards you from behind the vines. You recognised it in his gait. This one was not in a hurry. He was hunting.

Backing away slightly with your machete raised, you looked around. Where the hell was Boss? He should’ve had this one. You knew he was close. He was always close. But you didn’t see him, didn’t hear him, only the rustle choking quietness of how the Trandoshan behind the vines moved. You’ve always hated how Boss liked to change his plan mid-fight. And of course, you also hated that it always worked.

You met the hunter’s eyes. Small, reptilian, cold with blood-lust, before a massive thunk came from above you, followed by the unmistakable hiss of a wrist-mounted blade igniting. “You lizards need to learn I’m a lot scarier than you are.”

Boss dropped like a goddamn meteor from the trees. His muddy boots landed square on the Trandoshan’s back, the full weight of his armour driving the beast forward with a guttural roar. The hunter tried to bring up a blade, but Boss’s vibroblade was already plunged deep into the shoulder joint with a sickening crack before he spun, taking out his deecee, and shot a rapid fire straight into the back of the skull. Killing the lizard.

The commando stood over the twitching corpse, the whites of his armour streaked in reptilian gore. For a moment, the jungle went still again as if giving the sergeant a bow for the very act he just committed.

“You took your sweet time,” you rose shakily to your feet, the girl still slung across your back. She started to stir awake as her shallow breaths grew steadier.

“Had to find an angle,” Boss deadpanned. “Could’ve blown his brains out from the ground, but figured you wanted a fun night out.”

“I did. Two corpses ago.”

He glanced at the carnage around you, four dead Trandoshans and a fifth still bleeding out at your feet. “Could’ve fooled me.”

You shrugged, wiping your machete on a nearby leaf. “Root system’s a hundred metres out. Let’s hole up, patch her up, and call the others in.”

“No need to!” came a far too cheery voice from behind you.

Boss let out an audible sigh, helmet turning as the jungle rustled with approaching Katarn armour. You both turned to see Scorch bouncing out of the trees like a kid in a candy store, casually punching a lung plant as if it was a boxing speed bag.

“You really didn’t invite us to the party?” Behind the cheerful detonation specialist, Sev grumbled, unnecessarily kicking a severed Trandoshan head as he passed. The thing bounced once. Twice. Then hit a tree root and cracked with a wet pop.

“That was unnecessary.” Fixer trailed behind the sniper, not even looking at the severed head.

Boss jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I sent them the SOS once we engaged.”

“But we handled it,” you muttered.

“We did. But then they would’ve been jealous.”

“You’re damn right we’re jealous,” Scorch called out, cheerfully slapping a lung plant again before deciding that it bored him and walked towards you. “You got all the machete kills. Sev hasn’t even had his body count tonight.”

Sev cracked his neck, slowly turning to face the trees. “Give me five minutes.”

Boss ignored them. “Let’s move. We get the kid stable inside the root system. Sev, take rear guard. Fixer, help me secure the perimeter. Scorch—”

“I know, I know,” Scorch interjected. “Don’t punch the plants, Scorch. Don’t feed the swamp worms, Scorch. Stop making a hammock out of enemy corpses, Scorch.”

“Making hammocks out of enemy corpses is Sev’s job, Six-Two,” you couldn’t help but laugh as you passed the groggy Theelin girl to Fixer, who took her with a nod.

“So much for a good partner, Boss,” Fixer teased. “Letting your girl carry the heavyweight.”

Boss simply shrugged, unfazed. “This armour’s heavier than that kid. Besides—” he reached out, tugging you in by your gear harness, “—she’s jacked. And still alive,” he added, a smile in his voice as he took off his helmet to kiss you. You grinned against his mouth, heart still hammering from the fight, covered in sweat, and sap, and blood, and very much not in the mood to care.

From behind your left, Sev made a guttural gagging sound.

“If you two start tongue-wrestling, I’m jumping into a jaw plant voluntarily.” Scorch followed his brother’s retching sound.

You pulled back just enough to mutter, “Promise?”

Boss clapped a hand on your shoulder, leading the squad, and you, towards the entrance of the root system. “Let’s move, squad. Cuddling over.”

And just like that, four soldiers, one jungle specialist, and a half-conscious teenager disappeared into the tangled dark of the jungle. Silent, tired, alive.

#deltasquadweek #deltasquadweek2025 #deltasquadweek2025 day 7 #prompt: kashyyyk #clone commando boss x reader #clone commando boss #rc boss #republic commando #delta squad #delta squad boss #star wars

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cozy-the-overlord · 11 days ago

Text

Making It Count

Summary: Ahsoka tries to hide a mid-mission injury from Anakin.

@loki-hargreeves' July Writing Challenge Prompt 7/13: injury

Word Count: 2,701

A/N: I don't usually write for Clone Wars (even though it's my favorite piece of media ever) but I had an idea with this prompt and I thought I'd surprise my sister with it. I'm also extremely unhappy with this fic lol - due to an impromptu trip and several birthday events I had to write this all in one night while I was falling asleep and I kind of hate it @@ but here it is anyway!

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: Stab injuries, blood loss

my taglist is all for Loki fics so I'm not putting it here but if you do want to be tagged on any potential future clone wars fics please let me know!!

Read it on Ao3!

Ahsoka leans back from the rugged rock face, the wind whistling past her montrals as she gazes up at the fortress ahead. The separatist base is high in the craggy mountains, a fortress built into the stone by some ancient civilization long before the war - before the Republic, possibly. It was designed to be impenetrable. Her master took that personally.

At these altitudes, the cloud cover is far too severe for air support, so Anakin came up with a different plan - one that involves splitting their troops in half and flanking either side of the mountain, rappelling up the side with cables and ropes and steel grips. No tanks or walkers means that scanners wouldn’t be able to pick them up. The droids would be caught unawares from both sides.

“You think you can handle it, Snips?” he had asked with a teasing smirk.

That was all the push Ahsoka needed.

“Come on, boys -” she yells over her shoulder. “We can’t let Master Skywalker have all the fun!”

There’s a ripple of battle cries in return - there’s nothing her men enjoy more than a good old-fashioned race. And so they fight their way up the mountain, blinding flashes of blaster shots and explosives ripping through the night, moving forward ever faster. Ahsoka is grinning so widely that it hurts. This - this is fun. It reminds her of one of her first missions with her master, the monastery on Teth that they rescued the huttlet from. That had been a climb too, although a much more humid one - here on Doril, the air is almost painfully dry, with not a plant anywhere in sight. Ahsoka’s older now too, not the overconfident child rushing into conflict she had no chance of winning. Now, she knows what she’s doing.

This is the thrill of danger, of competition, that she looks forward to. She counts the droids that fall on her sabers in her head - twelve, thirteen … fourteen. Anakin’s beaten her the last three missions. Ahsoka doesn’t know how he does it every single time - probably cheats, to be honest. Whatever. She’s going to beat him today.

She’s the first one to the top. No need to wait for the men. There’s plenty of droids to be dispatched, Ahsoka can handle herself. Deflecting a shot there, slicing through another there - she’s on top of the world right now, quite literally in some sense. She pushes a group of droids over the cliffside with the Force. Perhaps they would beat Anakin. They’re making great time, and she imagines that the front-facing side would be more heavily guarded than the back. Anakin will use that as an excuse, of course, if they do beat him, but hey, a win is a win and she can’t��

Four lanky shadows slice through the night. She whips her head towards them - she recognizes those movements, the mechanical zing of fast-moving limbs. Commandos. They’re programmed in hand-to-hand combat, with far tougher armor and far quicker reflexes than the B1’s. Although it could be worse, she thinks as she braces herself. It could be destroyers.

They lunge at her at once but she’s able to dodge quickly enough, flipping out of the way and slicing one’s head clean off. They have their own blade, cutting through the air, but it’s nothing compared to a lightsaber. Another one clatters to the ground.

Just two now. They’re getting more aggressive - Ahsoka dodges the blades again, back, back, slice, nearly got it—

One grabs her arm. The metal cuts through her glove, her main lightsaber going flying. Blast. Still has her other lightsaber - the droid moves, cut off its arm, she’s nearly got it–

The blade connects with her torso. Ahsoka cries out in pain even as her own saber connects with the droid in front of her. The one behind her rips out its sword, blood splattering over the carved stone. Ahsoka curses, and slices it down the chest.

Kriff.

Stupid, she thinks. She’s left with a gash down her ribcage, blood pulsing through her clothes. Stupid, stupid. Ahsoka staggers away from the commando corpses. She’s better than this - how did she let this happen? Her hands flutter to the wound.

It’s not that deep. That’s good - it would be better if the blade had not been removed from her flesh, to staunch the bleeding, but it’ll be alright. Just a bit of a graze. Ignore the fact that she can feel her heartbeat pulsating through her torn flesh. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. She slices a piece of her cloak with her saber and stuffs it into the wound - just tie it down firm, it’ll be alright. Never mind how much it hurts.

“You alright, Commander?” Rex is cresting the top with the other men now. He sounds worried. Ahsoka drops her arm immediately, wipes the blood off on her maroon top.

“Fine! Keep moving!” She covers her side with what’s left of her cloak - she can’t let them see. If they find out she’s been injured, they’ll have to tell Anakin, and she can’t have Anakin finding out about it. It’s taken so long to get to the point where he trusts her completely to handle missions on her own, without making her stick by his side or instructing his men to linger over her shoulder to keep her safe. If he learns about this, his overprotective wheels will start spinning out of control again.

The comlink on her arm crackles to life. “Ahsoka, come in.”

Blast–

“Back entrance is secure.” Her voice is too high pitched. She clears her throat, smoothing down her cloak with her free hand. “And I’m at thirty-eight,” she adds quickly, to cover.

She can hear her master’s smirk through the microphone. “Is that all? We’re heading to the control room now - we’ll wait for you there.”

Ahsoka suppresses a sigh of relief. “Not if we beat you to it!”

They charge the halls of the droid base - they’re dark and dank and reek of mildew. Ahsoka crinkles her nose as she grips her sabers. Her ribs are aching. Instinct screams at her to hold her torso, press down on the wound and make sure the cloth is secure, but with the clones around that would be far too conspicuous. Besides, she needs to fight! The droids are caught off guard, certainly, but they still crash out in droves. The corridor flashes with blaster fire. It makes her head hurt, but at least it comes with a distraction.

Droids fall at her blades, one right after the other. Forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine–

An explosion rattles the stone walls up ahead. Ahsoka flinches, coughing on smoke and searing metal. A familiar blue glow washes through the hall.

“Well -” Anakin smirks as he walks through the gaping hole in the wall with his men. “Fancy meeting you here!”

Ahsoka forces a smile - her side is really starting to hurt, an ache that’s rapidly turning to a burn, spreading up her chest and nestling into her bones. “I figured you’d be trying to catch up.”

He laughs. “More like running laps around you - come on–”

And so they hurry forward. Ahsoka wants nothing more than to rest, but her master has never been one to stop for breaks, so she forces herself to look ahead. The light of their sabers burns her retinas in the dark. Where is this blasted control center, anyways? All she can see ahead of her is Anakin, his robes swishing in the dark. Aren’t they close? She wants to sit down …

Just a little further, she tells herself. One foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other, one foot –

“Kind of brings back memories, doesn’t it?” Anakin grins at her in the glow of his lightsaber.

“What?” Her voice is a little too sharp. Did he say something before that? Why is he looking at her like she should know what he means?

“Doesn’t it remind you of Teth?”

“Oh –” Right - mountaintop base, shrouded halls … she had been thinking about that earlier. The memories seem hazy now though, how long ago was that? Ahsoka’s head feels fuzzy. She blinks. Wake up. “Yeah, it does.”

Anakin’s frowning at her. “Are you alright, Snips?”

Blast it.

She inhales. “I’m fine–”

Blaster shots paint the hallway in crimson light, and Ahsoka’s almost relieved. But Anakin’s yelling, and the men are rushing forward, and now Ahsoka has to run too even though her body wails at every movement. She can barely see them through the dark, but the quick, jerky movements give them away even before she hears Rex’s cry.

“Commandos!”

Not again …

She can make out their faces in the flashes of light. Anakin’s barreling through as usual, slicing and decapitating so fast that she can barely see what’s happening. Her lightsabers move almost on their own accord, streaks of green flaring in the corners of her watering eyes, feeling the weight of the blasts she deflects more than she sees them. A droid falls, and then another. Was that her kill? Anakin’s? One of the men?

There’s another, lunging at her from a doorway. She hears the slice of its blade just barely kissing her lekku. Ahsoka dodges, the lightsaber hum rattling her skull as shredded pieces of metal fall to the floor. Her limbs are somehow heavy and light at the same time - it’s as if she’s floating underwater. Or maybe she’s sinking. It doesn’t matter. There’s no time to think. She deflects another blast. Her fingers are frozen ice around her hilts. She couldn’t let go if she tried.

Her head is still pounding as they stand over the mangled mechanical bodies. A zip – Anakin’s sheathed his lightsabers. Ahsoka stares at hers. Her arms are limp and heavy and cold. Something’s dripping down her hip. The cloth must have bled through, she thinks numbly. She should care, but everything seems distant right now. Unimportant.

Anakin’s saying something to Rex, something about scans and ambushes. She should be listening. His voice sounds like it’s coming from another planet. Is the hall getting darker? He turns to her, grinning. “That makes fifty-one for me - what are you at?”

Kriff, I lost track.

The hallway is going dark - or maybe that’s just her lightsabers, sheathing when they fall to the ground.

…

The light comes back slowly.

At first it’s just a greyness in the corner of her vision, soft and fuzzy and nearly unnoticeable, paling slowly and steadily until all she could see is the cold sterile whiteness of a medical bay.

Ahsoka opens her eyes. It is a medical bay, she realizes at once - a recognizable medical bay. She’s on the Twilight. How …

A form shifts beside her. Ahsoka jumps at first - please, not another commando - but a much more pleasant, familiar face smiles back at her.

“Welcome back, Commander.” Kix grins down at her, fixing his gloves before fiddling with the wires on her arm.“Just lay back for now - we’ve got you patched up and on the IV. Looks like you went into hypovolemic shock.”

“You know, the kind of thing that happens when you’re running around with an untreated stab wound.” Anakin’s sitting next to her, already scowling. Oh boy. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Ahsoka wilts under his glare. “It wasn’t that bad …”

“Not that bad? You nearly bled out, Ahsoka – I saw the light leave your eyes,” her master huffs a sigh. “You’re done. R2 got the Twilight landed - Kix is taking you and it back to the cruiser.”

“What - Master, I’m fine–” she tries to sit up, but her torso sears again, and Anakin only pushes her back down. It’s her turn to scowl. “This is why I didn’t say anything, you know. You think I can’t take care of myself–”

“Well, clearly you can’t!” he snaps.

Ahsoka bites her lip. It hurts more than she wants to admit. “He got a lucky swipe in - I was doing fine, and I covered it like you’re supposed to –”

“What you’re supposed to do is let your team know - let your medic know!” Anakin’s standing up now, pacing back and forth in front of her cot. Even when she’s standing next to him normally, he towers above her. Right now he looms over her form like some sort of eldritch god. “What would’ve happened if we hadn’t met up? Or if I had us split up again in the base? These men are counting on you, Ahsoka - you can’t lead if you’re dead–”

“But I’m not dead - I didn’t think it was that bad.” Ahsoka pushes up to her forearms. He has a point and she knows it, and it’s making her feel horrifically stupid. “You’ve done worse before!”

“I’ve never lied about being injured and passed out from blood loss on a mission.”

“But I didn’t lie–”

“You didn’t tell the truth either. It was irresponsible of you at best, and it put yourself and your men in unnecessary danger.” he sighs, sinking back into his seat. “You’re going with Kix. No more arguing.”

Ahsoka presses her lips together. She’s lost - she knows it. Anakin has a short fuse and nothing burns faster than feeling like he’s lost control. Why couldn’t she have destroyed that one commando in time? All at once she wants to cry, but she holds herself together, settling for feeling exceedingly dumb instead. Anakin wouldn’t have made such a mistake.

He’s got his arms crossed, staring down at her as the seconds tick by. Finally, he exhales. “What’s wrong?”

Nothing bubbles to her lips, but Ahsoka swallows it back. He wants the truth, and now is no time to test him with lies. Her words finally come in a hoarse whisper. “I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t hold my own.” She can’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

“Ahsoka …” His voice has taken on that gentle, beseeching tone that he uses when he’s playing the part of the wizened Jedi teacher. Ahsoka can’t bring herself to listen. It makes her feel worse.

Anakin sighs again. “Hey, look at me.” It’s an order, and one she doesn’t dare disobey now. His brow is furrowed . “I know you can hold your own. Accidents happen, people get injured - it’s unavoidable sometimes. That’s not a reflection on you.” he sits on the side of the cot, the blankets caving to his weight. “But I need to know I can trust you to ask for help when you need it. We all do - people here are counting on you, Ahsoka, just as much as they count on me. If you’re injured, they need to know.”

“I know …” she swallows. The pain in her side is fading to a dull ache - has Kix put her on painkillers as well? It feels nice … “I’m sorry, Master.”

Anakin nods. “It’ll be alright. Now, you need to recover - you won’t help anyone like this, and you’ll only get yourself killed.” He pats her shoulder as he gets up to leave. “And I need you back at full health as soon as possible.”

She sighs. “Yes, Master.” She’s going to be hearing about this one for a while - she can just tell.

He’s in the doorway when she suddenly thinks of something else. Ahsoka grins despite herself. “Master?” He turns, eyebrows raised expectantly. “What was your final count?”

He huffs. “Fifty-one, I think. What was yours?”

It’s hard to remember, but she knows she had fifty going into her meeting with Anakin, and she took out at least two droids while she was with him. Ahsoka smirks. “I think it was at least fifty-two.”

Anakin makes a face. “Well, the number is only valid when you’re being honest on the battlefield.”

“Hey!” she sits up, her faux offended voice damaged by the smile on her lips. “Since when?”

“Since now. I make the rules.” He’s heading out the door - trying to escape, the coward. Ahsoka can’t help but laugh. “If you want to win, you have to play safely.”

“You just don’t want to admit that I beat you!” she yells out at his retreating form.

“Sorry, can’t hear you!”

#lhjulywritingchallenge #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #star wars fic #clone wars fic #making it count #cozy writes

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vodika-vibes · 11 months ago

Note

Hi! You posted about maybe writing a scorch fic and wanting an idea, so what about something like retired medic reader who finds scorch after he got shot a bunch of times and fell of a cliff, and they are kind of like “well i not really doing anything” so they take him home where they get to know each other better and then join the clone rebellion as like a way to make amends for all the stuff he did (whether he had a choice or not) when working with hemlock?

Obviously you dont even have to consider this idea, I’m sure whatever you write will be awesome!

Have a great day!

I'm Retired

Summary: You’re a retired military medic. Formerly the medic of the 101st Battalion under Pong Krell, you were forced into early retirement when the Jedi mutilated your leg after you threatened to report him to the Jedi Council for his actions during the war. So you did. You left the Republic and settled on a planet far from the core, bought a dog, a cabin in the woods, and a droid to help you manage everything. The last thing you ever expected was to see a clone again. Still, Fate can be funny in some ways.

Pairing: Pre Clone Commando Scorch x F! Reader

Word Count: 1778

Warnings: None

Tagging: @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @Mira-Loves-Star-Wars @tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstarar @trixie2023 @kimiheartbladeartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435

@etod @n0vqni

A/N: You sent me this idea and it had me in a death grip, so I had to write it! Thank you~

Join my taglist HERE

Life is change.

Babies change into toddlers, who change into children, who then change into teenagers, and then adults.

It’s just a fact of life.

Life is change.

And no matter how much you might hate it, you have no choice but to accept it.

Still, your life has been pretty steady since you were forced out of the GAR several years ago.

Not stagnant, because that suggests that you haven’t been improving your home, or yourself, in the last couple of years. But stable. Your cabin is now, wholly, self-sufficient. You don’t need to rely on anyone for food, water, or seeds to grow more food.

Your greenhouse is thriving, as are your animals. And you really only need to visit the local village when you need clothes or other specialty goods that you can’t be assed to make yourself.

This morning, however, you don’t have to go to the village, or to the larger city that is several hours away.

No, this morning you’re taking the dogs (Burrito, Taquito, and Chorizo) on a nice long walk. It’s a nice day, after all, and the dogs have been cramped in the yard for the last couple of days since the massive storm rolled through several days ago.

You drop your whistle around your neck, so you can call the dogs back to you, and then you open the gate to allow the dogs to tear out of your yard. You trail after them at a much slower pace, sure that they’ll come back to you if you call for them.

Besides, you can’t run anymore anyway.

You trail after the sound of barking dogs, taking your time, though you soon realize that the dogs are leading you toward the lake. You can’t help the sigh that falls from you, at least one of the dogs is going to need a bath if they decide to go swimming.

You start walking a little faster, hoping to stop them before they get into the water, but by the time you arrive at the shore of the lake, all three dogs are in the water.

Unusual.

Taquito hates water.

It’s about that moment that you notice that Chorizo, the largest of the three dogs, is dragging a person. And your heart drops into your stomach. Even from a distance, you can recognize Kartan-class armor.

You lift your comm to your lips, “Peabody, I need you to bring the emergency gurney and the speeder to the lake. Quickly.” You drop the comm back into your pocket after your droid gives his confirmation and your hands curl into fists.

You’re retired. You should bring him to the village doctor to take care of.

Chorizo drags the clone to the shore and the three dogs pull him onto dry land. You see the blaster burns on his armor and you painfully drop to your knees next to him, swiftly removing his helmet to check for a pulse.

His pulse is weak, but it’s there.

Swiftly you remove the rest of his armor, dropping the pieces on the sand next to you as you remove each piece, and then you cut off the top of his blacks.

Judging by the damage to his armor, he was shot and then fell from a high distance…the mountain most likely, if you had to guess.

But even so, he’s incredibly lucky.

If he had been wearing standard clone armor he’d be dead.

Kartan-class armor is a step above what normal clones wore, after all. More expensive, too.

You hear the speeder pull up, and the sound of Peabody setting up the emergency gurney, and then he’s at your side, helping you back to your feet, before easing the clone onto the gurney and loading him back into the speeder.

You pick up his armor and set it in the backseat, with the dogs, and then climb into the passenger’s seat with a heavy sigh. So much for your retirement.

Oh well. It’s not like you were doing anything anyway.

Scorch wakes up from, what feels like, a very long nightmare.

He doesn’t open his eyes as he wakes, though. For the first time in, what feels like, years he’s not in any pain. His head isn’t aching, and he feels like he’s in control of his body, rather than a passenger.

He’s warm, and lying on a soft bed, and the room he’s in smells like fresh bread…and if this is a dream, he’s not ready to wake up.

And then something cold presses against his hand, and his eyes snap open.

Scorch turns his head to the side and blinks at the black and white dog peering up at him. It whines and bumps Scorch’s hand with his nose again, and without really thinking about it, he lifts his hand and pets the dog on the head.

There’s the sound of heavy footsteps, and slowly Scorch sits up as the door slides the rest of the way open and a woman appears in the doorway. She blinks at him, seemingly unsurprised to see him awake, and then she enters the room properly.

There’s a tray of food floating next to her.

“That’s Taquito,” She says, “He’s a herding dog, and knows he’s not supposed to be in here.”

“He’s a good boy,” Scorch notes, awkwardly.

She smiles at him, it’s a nice smile, “He is. He’s trained as a service dog, I guess that he popped in here because you needed him.” Slowly she sinks into a chair, a pained grimace on her face. That’s about the time he notices the leg brace wrapped around her leg.

“I didn’t mean to take your service dog from you,” Scorch says immediately.

She looks surprised and then shakes her head. “Chorizo is my mobility support dog, but he’s outside right now. I rarely need him in the house.” Lightly, she pushes the tray towards him, “Here, food.”

“Thank you,” Scorch accepts the tray and eagerly picks up a piece of toast, “I’m Scorch, by the way.” He adds, before taking a bite.

She introduces herself and then settles back to watch him eat. “I am, was, a medic for the GAR.” She adds absently. “For the 101st.”

Scorch pauses, “That battalion was wiped out, Doc”

Doc’s smile is slightly bitter, “That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” She then waves her hand, “Anyway, you’re in pretty good shape, all things considered.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re lucky that you have Kartan armor though.” She points out, “If you had any other type of armor, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Or any conversation, for that matter.”

Scorch grimaces, “That close?”

“Yeah, that close.”

“Alright, so how am I?”

“You have scars,” Doc motions to his chest, which now has a lot more starburst scars on it, “Though the majority of the damage came from the fall, you were little more than a bruise for well over two weeks.”

“Well, at least nothing broke?”

“You got lucky.” She repeats, “It’s a miracle that nothing broke. My guess is that you were unconscious when you fell so you didn’t tense up to cause more injuries.”

“...what?”

“Like, when a drunk driver gets into an accident and walks away unharmed.” Doc explains.

“Oh, right.”

She pauses and lightly taps her lower lip, “You weren’t awake to consent to it, but you needed brain surgery.”

“I did?”

She motions to a small jar sitting on the side table, a jar that he didn’t notice until that moment, “I pulled that from your brain. Resting on your brain, rather than in it. I thought, maybe, it was shrapnel at first, but shrapnel doesn’t generally stop and settle on the brain.”

Scorch picks up the small jar and lifts it so he’s able to look at the small piece of metal, “It looks like a computer chip.”

“It does.”

“I had a chip on my brain?!”

Doc gazes at him, consideringly, “It does answer a lot of questions.”

“It does?”

“Questions like, why would the clones turn on their Jedi, en masse, when they’ve been so loyal to them for three years?”

Scorch doesn’t say anything for a moment and then he drops the jar back on the table, “I spent the last year or so feeling like I was a passenger in my own body. No matter how much I tried, I had no control over my actions. Do you think…do all of my brothers have one of these?”

“Probably.” She crosses her arms, “I have to admit, the Emperor did come up with an excellent way to remove the Jedi from the galaxy.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because I’m not blind or dumb.” She counters, “Honestly, the Jedi played right into his hands. As soon as they agreed to fight in his war, they lost. It’s so…dumb.”

Scorch falls silent, and his hands curl into fists as he pushes the hover tray away from him, “I killed kids.”

Doc is quiet for a moment, “It’s not your fault.” She finally says.

“It doesn’t matter, I still did it. I pulled the trigger. I killed them.”

“You weren’t in control of your own body.”

“You think that’s going to be any comfort to the families of the kids I killed?” Scorch asks.

She averts her gaze for a moment, and then meets his gaze steadily, “Okay, so what do you want to do?”

“...there has to be some way for me to make amends.”

“Are you looking to make amends, or are you looking to punish yourself?” Doc asks.

“Isn’t it the same thing?”

“No. Not at all.”

“I guess…both. I want to do both.”

Doc rests her chin on the palm of her hand, “I suppose I can make a couple of calls, reach out to some old friends. See if there’s a place for you in the rebellion.”

“...just me?”

“I’m retired.”

Scorch picks up the jar holding the chip and shakes it in front of her, “I can tell.”

She scowls at him, “I took an oath, I wasn’t about to let you die.”

Scorch just shakes the jar a little more.

“Fine! Fine.” She stands with a wince, “I’ll find out if there’s a place for us and the dogs in the rebellion, but I wouldn’t hold your breath. No one wants a half-crippled medic.”

“I do!”

“Eat your damned breakfast, you jackass!”

“Thank you, Doc!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

Scorch watches her limp from the room and then focuses on his meal again, a small grin on his face. Maybe, with her help, he’ll be able to find his pod brothers. Even if she’s going to complain the whole time.

#star wars #tbb #clone commando scorch x reader #scorch x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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bunny7567 · 9 months ago

Text

I got you - chapter 9

Pairing: Rex x Jedi!ofc

Word count: 7.2k Tags/Warnings: canon-typical violence; animal attack and pretty detailed description of killing an animal in self-defense; heavy drinking; 1 mention of underage drinking; Echo needs a hug; Fives would love Chappell Roan, I will not take any criticism on that; Rex gets jelly; some angst and fluff; am i coming out through this fanfic? maybe, don't tell my family; implied emetophobia

Previous chapter | Next chapter

k'uur - Hush, Be quiet osik - crap, shit Ori'haat - It's the truth, I swear - no bull Di’kut - idiot Vod’ika - little brother, little sister Vode – brothers, sisters Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod? - Are you looking for a smack in the face, mate?

~~~

Lexie was running through the thick forest on the planet Garronn, Fives and Echo close behind her. Her feet were aching and the humid air was making it difficult to keep her breathing under control. They had just been on Felucia a few rotations before this mission and Lexie cursed the fact that they’ve left one jungle planet just to end up on another one.

They needed to reach the pick-up point and they needed to reach it fast if there was any hope of escaping this kriffin’ world during this rotation. There was no telling when another extraction team could get there, the 104th could not remain in the Garro system too long, they were lucky enough as it was they had been close enough to contact in the first place.

The whole mission had been such a shitshow. The lead they were chasing turned out to be a complete bust, Cad Bane had not chosen the Force-sensitive youngling on Garronn as his target. Or maybe Anakin had already intercepted him on Naboo, or he’d been apprehended by Obi-Wan on Rodia. Lexie had no way of knowing, their long-range comms had been scrambled since the moment they landed on the planet.

Lexie did however encounter a small Separatist presence the Republic had not been aware of and, without guidance from the Council, she and the men made the decision to destroy the outpost by themselves. A decision she deeply regretted about now, as they were trying to escape the commando droids chasing them through the jungle. Another bad call as a general.

She really was grateful that Anakin had insisted she took some troopers with her when they split up but, in hindsight, she should’ve listened to him and taken an entire squad with her, it could have made things a bit easier. She doubted she would’ve made it out of that outpost if it wasn’t for Fives and Echo’s assists and she also would not have a way off of this planet had Echo not managed to highjack the outpost comms and contact the 104th.

They really were good, she could finally see why Rex was so proud of the two troopers. This was the first missions where they had worked so closely together, she realised.

“How much left?”, Lexie yelled over her shoulder.

“Two klicks Sir”, Echo’s helmet modulated voice responded.

“I think we lost them”, Fives announced, glancing behind him.

“Finally some good kriffin news”, she said.

The three of them came to an abrupt halt as they reached a steep ravine.

“Fastest route is through down there”, Lexie said after checking the holo-map, and motioned for the two troopers to go on.

The men started the descent before her, Lexie staying on top to make sure the droids would not catch up with them again. Suddenly she felt a shift in the Force and her senses were flooded by an urgent feeling of dread. Her troopers were in danger.

“Echo!”, she heard Fives scream as she jumped down into the ravine, using the Force to control her fall.

As soon as she landed she pulled out her lightsabers, igniting the yellow blades. Fives was shooting his blaster at a massive serpent-like creature, but she couldn’t see Echo anywhere. She looked through the Force, she could feel him, he was still alive, but where? She looked at Fives for an answer. She felt anger, fear and sadness surround his Force signature.

“That thing ate him!”, Fived yelled.

Her head snapped back to the creature and she recognised the species. Garronnian serpent, thank the Force. They swallow their prey whole and digest it over the course of 10 rotations. Once they ingest their prey, though, they become a lot more aggressive. The serpent lunged at her as she attempted to run towards it and she had to jump out of the way. She had to find a way get close to it in order to get Echo out.

“Try and keep it distracted”, she told Fives.

Fives started yelling and moving his hands around, getting the serpent to switch its focus to him. Lexie closed her eyes and tried to locate where Echo was in its body, she had to be careful not to injure him as she tried to get him out. Her mind scanned over the creature and she quickly knew where to cut.

“General…”, Fives’ concerned voice pleaded for her help.

The creature was towering over him, jaw wide open as it prepared to launch an attack. Lexie swiftly jumped in front of Fives using the saber in her left hand to slash vertically into the creature’s belly. The serpent spluttered, moving frantically before hitting the ground. A green, slimy liquid poured from the evisceration site, drenching Lexie and Fives. The smell was absolutely repugnant.

“Help me get him out”, Lexie yelled at Fives as she tried to resist gagging.

The two rushed to the now dead serpent. They could already see Echo’s hand coming out through the gash and Fives hurried to pull his brother all the way out while Lexie used the Force to widen the opening. Fives fell backwards with Echo landing on top of him as he was finally yanked free from the serpent’s belly. Lexie rushed to them, helping them back to their feet.

“Are you good, vod?”, Fives asked.

Echo slowly nodded and took off his helmet. He was also covered in the slimy liquid and looked extremely nauseous. Lexie’s stomach turned as she watched him gag.

“Don’t you fucking dare throw up”, she warned him. Both men gave her a confused look. “If you throw up, I will throw up. And if you make me throw up I will kill you, do you understand?”

“Y-Yes, Sir”, Echo struggled to respond.

“Put that helmet back and let’s get the kriff out of here before any more of those things show up”, she said through gritted teeth, trying not to gag herself. The smell was undeniably foul.

The 104th was forced to move out of the sector earlier than expected, but fortunately Master Plo Koon was able to spare two pilots and a Nu-class shuttle in order to extract and transport Lexie, Echo and Fives back to Coruscant. It unfortunately meant that they were not able to properly clean the serpent guts off of themselves for the duration of the flight, something that prompted Warthog to not so politely ban all three of them from entering the cockpit.

Lexie was leaned forward on her seat, elbows resting on her thighs, absentmindedly picking at the skin around her fingernails as her mind darted over the last rotations. She had made so many mistakes. Again. From their ship getting blown up by the Seppies, to the failed attempt at destroying the outpost and barely making it out alive, to the damn encounter with that giant serpent, it seemed that every single decision she had made during this mission had been the wrong one. All the confidence in herself that Rex had been helping her build over the last months was rapidly starting to crumble.

“Are you alright, General?”, Echo asked her.

He was sat across from her, helmet rested on his lap. Next to him Fives appeared to be asleep, eyes closed and head leaned back, his helmet discarded on the floor by his feet. They had barely slept since landing on Garronn, so she was surprised to see Echo was awake.

“Yeah I’m just… replaying the mission in my head”, she said quietly.

She wasn’t doing a very good job of masking her emotions. But he had also been getting really good at picking up on her distress over the last few months and was almost as skilled as Rex when it came to encouraging or comforting her.

“We got out alive, that’s all that matters”, he tried to reassure her.

“Barely. I almost got you two killed”, she retorted.

“We all agreed to destroy the outpost. Yes, we should’ve done some more recon first but we still needed to infiltrate it regardless, to comm for the extraction if nothing else”.

“Yeah well, an infiltration mission is completely different. And something I could have done myself without putting you two at risk. I just think Rex will be very disappointed with my decision making”. She regretted that last part as soon as she said it. Why would she admit to thinking about him, to caring about his opinion in front of Echo, in front of anyone?

“Like you could ever do anything wrong in his eyes”, Fives piped up. Turns out he wasn’t sleeping after all even if his eyes were still closed.

“What do you mean?”, Lexie asked narrowing her eyes.

“I mean he basically idolises you. Won’t shut up about what a great Jedi and general you are. It’s always General Khalla this, General Khalla that. It’s a bit annoying sometimes actually”, he said, opening his eyes to look at her, a sly smile on his face.

“Fives, k'uur!”, Echo interjected, giving his brother a look. He and the others all believed the Captain had a crush on Lexie, but straight up letting her know about it wasn’t right.

“What? you know it’s true”, Fives defended, looking at Echo before turning his head back to Lexie. “Even after that first mission when everyone jumped to the worst conclusions he held firm. Would immediately shift the conversation to how you saved his life on Geonosis. All I’m saying is you shouldn’t worry about disappointing him, he thinks everything you do is perfect”.

Lexie just started at him for a moment, unsure of how she could even reply to all that. She decided to laugh it off, but she kept thinking about it for the remainder of their flight. Was it true? Had she somehow tricked Rex into thinking she was this perfect Jedi? She felt guilt creeping inside her. No one should ever idolise her, she wasn’t good enough, she wasn’t strong enough or smart enough to warrant that in the slightest. She will end up letting him down, just like she let down her master, like she let down Anakin on Geonosis, like she let down her mother…

The sun had set right before the three arrived back at the barracks. As they walked away from the landing platform and into the hangar, Lexie could see the clones close by scrunching their noses and turning away from them in reaction to the rancid, rotting smell that was very much still covering the trio. She couldn’t wait to get in the shower and change her clothes. A thought came into her head, wondering if she’d even be able to get the smell out of her clothes or if she should just burn them.

“I need a fucking drink”, Lexie mumbled.

Echo and Fives were right behind and heard her. The two exchanged a look, a question and an answer wordlessly being communicated between them.

“Do you want to come to the 79s with us, Sir?”, Fives asked.

Lexie stopped and turned to look at them, gauging to see if it was a genuine invitation or something they were saying out of obligation. The impropriety of the situation briefly flashed through her mind before it was quickly dismissed. They had already had drinks together, a bit over a month ago in the fresher while Echo dyed her hair, as well as the following day. But she had not been back at the 79s since that night when she first met them. Were the other Jedi going out drinking with their troopers? What would her Master think?

Kriff it.

“I’d like that. After I take like 10-15 showers though”, she replied with a chuckle.

“Agreed”, Echo laughed. “Should we meet outside the barracks in an hour then, General?”

“Sounds good. But I do have one condition”, she said looking both men in the eye. “You drop the banthashit formalities and call me Lexie”.

Echo nodded and smiled. Fives draped an arm around her shoulders as they resumed walking, heading to the lifts.

“More than happy to, Lexie”, he said with a grin.

The 79s was not as crowded as the first time Lexie had been there. But then again, it was still fairly early. She knew for a fact a lot of the men from the 501st were just about now finishing running drills, supervised by Rex. She had asked Appo where everyone was after she, Echo and Fives ran into him by the lifts, and he had informed them of the training session that was supposed to run until at least 20:00 hours. The sergeant declined to get into the same lift as them, for obvious reasons.

Lexie thought about stopping by the training level to say hello to Rex, but that was not something she should do while still covered in rancid serpent slime. She hoped she’d have time before heading to the cantina, but she had spent so long washing, and rewashing every part of her body, she had actually been 15 minutes late meeting the boys in front of the barracks as planned. She had thrown on a long-sleeved black tulle dress with black velvet flowery patters and spent a little too long on her eyeliner. Her blue hair was left untied, still a little damp from the shower. But she could swear she still had not gotten the smell out…

She followed Echo and Fives to an empty booth a bit further away from the bar. There were still plenty to choose from, both on the ground floor they were on and upstairs, so Lexie concluded this must be where they usually sit. Echo slid in first, followed by Fives and lastly her. She spotted “501” scratched into one corner of the table and decided she had been correct. She chuckled as she noticed a crossed out “104” right above it, and another, smaller one, also crossed out, on the other corner. On the leg of the table she could also see a few crossed out “212s”, “41s” and also “501s”.

“The seating situation is a little tricky here. There’s a bit of a passive-aggressive war between the battalions over certain tables”, Echo informed her, having noticed her chuckle.

“Yeah, this is one of the best ones, cause it’s bigger and you have a really good view of the dancefloor. So it’s the preferred location for checking out all the ladies before making a move”, Fives continued. Lexie laughed and Echo shook his head in amusement.

“So what are we starting with? Shots?”, Echo asked, bringing his hands in front of him in a slow clap.

“Shots are good”, Lexie said.

Fives signalled one of the droid waitresses and ordered three rounds of shots for the table. Since the cantina was still fairly empty it didn’t take long until a tray of small glasses was placed on the table in front of them. The liquid inside was bright orange.

“Care to make a toast, Lexie? Since it’s your first proper night out with us”, Fives said while nudging her slightly with his elbow.

She thought for a second then raised one of the shot glasses.

“Here’s to Echo not being eaten by a giant snake ever again”, she said with a teasing smile, looking him straight in the eyes.

“I’ll kriffin drink to that”, Echo replied only half-amused.

They clinked the glasses and threw back the shots. The sweet, fruity liqueur slowly slid down Lexie’s throat, leaving a pleasant warmth behind. She didn’t remember having this type of shot before and made a mental note of the name. They drank the second and third shot soon after, the warmth of the liqueur intensifying in her throat.

“So what do you boys usually drink when you come here?”, she asked them.

“Tevraki whiskey or ale”, Echo replied.

“But we can wait and order more drinks later. Don’t want you getting too drunk on us, Lexie”, Fives said teasingly.

“Honey I am Seccayan. I can drink you under the table”, Lexie scoffed.

“I’d like to see you try”, Fives said, turning his body so he could face her better.

“Is that a dare?”, she asked, feeling her competitive nature bubble up to the surface.

“Yes”.

“Aright. You’re on”.

Echo shook his head in amused disbelief.

“Alright. Well, we need some ground rules. We have to drink the same amount of drinks, at least a minimum, it’s not fair otherwise, like if you only have one-two more the rest of the night while I have five”.

“I agree. Let’s settle on a minimum number then”

“Let’s say seven”, Fives said after a second of thinking.

“Seven? That’s all? Honey I had seven glasses of Secca wine when I was 9 years old and left unsupervised during a wedding reception. That is nothing”.

“Then it should be no issue”, he said with a sly smile, while gesturing for the droid to come take their order again. “Three glasses of Tevraki whiskey, and make them double”.

“I did not agree to be part of your alcohol poisoning game”, Echo said as the droid left.

“Then you can keep count for us”, Lexie said with a smile. Echo shook his head with a laugh.

The droid returned with their drinks and they clinked them again before each taking a sip. The warmth of the whiskey was stronger than the shots had been, spreading through her entire body. The taste wasn’t too bad, very bitter-sweet. It wasn’t her favourite drink but she didn’t hate it either.

Two glasses of Tevraki later, Lexie began to feel the buzz of alcohol, and found herself laughing and talking louder than before. She really enjoyed being in the company of Echo and Fives, both men had a great sense of humour, Echo’s a bit drier, and conversation was flowing smoothly.

“You cannot shorten an already shortened name”, Lexie told Fives with frustration.

“Yes I can. Lex”, he had been calling her that for the past 20 minutes. “It’s a form of endearment”, he said with a sweet smile.

“But Lexie is already short for Alexis. You can't just shorten it even more”.

“Yes I can”, he said stubbornly, tilting her head towards hers.

“Ok fine! That's it. Five. That ‘s’ in your name? Revoked. You're just five now”, she said, throwing her hands into the air in an exaggerated movement.

“Fine by me, Lex”, Fives said. Echo was quietly laughing at them.

“There you lot are”, a voice came from outside their booth.

Lexie turned her head and saw Jesse, Kix and Hardcase. They seemed surprised to find her there, offering her respectful nods and an almost collective “General” greeting.

Jesse sat down next to her, while the other two slid in next to Echo, who had to shift more to the centre of the u-shaped bench. This caused Fives to shift closer than actually needed to Lexie, pressing his arm into hers. He wasn’t wearing the upper part of his armor so she could feel the firm muscles under his blacks.

She didn’t mind, the two of them had been getting a little flirtier with each other as they kept drinking, but it was just in good fun. She wasn’t going to let anything actually happen, but she did plan on enjoying the flirty banter for longer.

“When did you return from your mission, General?”, Kix asked her.

“Oh, no no. We’re not doing the ‘General’ osik tonight. Call me Lexie. All of you”, she said as she looked at the three new additions to their table. They nodded and smiled in agreement. “We got back a few hours ago. Had to head straight for the showers before coming here. It was not a fun mission”.

“Yeah, Echo got eaten by a snake”, Fives quipped.

“He what?”, Hardcase asked laughing.

“Ori'haat”, Fives said.

“Can we not talk about it? It was actually really kriffin traumatising”, Echo said a little defensively.

“Aww don’t worry vod’ika. You can sleep in my bunk if you get scared during the night”, Fives teased, leaning closer to his brother and ruffling his hair with a hand.

“Kriff off, Fives”, Echo said, shoving him away. The sudden movement made Fives slam against Lexie’s side, pushing her into Jesse, who was in his full kit.

“Boys, come on. Not wearing armor here”, she said with a laugh, rubbing her right arm.

“Sorry, Lexie”, Echo said.

“Nice going di'kut”, Fives said, smacking the back of Echo’s head.

“Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?”, Echo threatened.

“Okay”, Lexie said lifting from her seat and placing her hands on the table, employing the same tone of voice she used when breaking up disagreements between rowdy younglings at the Temple. “Kix switch with Echo”, she ordered. The two men shuffled awkwardly and switched places. Kix was now placed as a buffer between Fives and Echo.

“Now… more shots?”, Lexie asked sitting back down.

“More shots”, Fives agreed with a smile.

Two rounds of shots were ordered for the entire table. Laughter and loud conversation followed. Lexie’s cheeks were starting to be flushed from the alcohol and she rolled up the sleeves of her dress. Hardcase was complaining loudly about all the drills Rex had them run that day and Lexie fought against the urge to ask where he was now and if he was planning on joining them at the 79s. From what she could gather, he was either with Cody, or planned to meet him. Another glass of whiskey was placed in front of her by Fives.

Her attention was caught by Jesse, who reached over her to nudge Fives and pointed in the direction of the bar. A tall, purple-skinned Twi'lek woman was leaning over the bar, trying to get the attention of the server. Her lekku was covered with strings of sparkling yellow beads that perfectly complemented the bandeau top and short skirt she was wearing. She was stunning.

Fives wolf-whistled. “I wouldn’t mind going home with her tonight”.

“You and me both”, Lexie accidentally said out loud before taking a sip from her drink.

Fives and Jesse’s heads quickly snapped from the woman to look at her, an expression of surprise on their faces. On the other side of the table she saw Hardcase tilting his head in confusion, having stopped mid-sentence in his story about one of the training simulations.

“What? I’m bi”, she said nervously. She took a bigger sip of her drink, realisation hitting her that she had never said that out loud to anyone before.

She could practically see the wheels turning in their heads and she rolled her eyes. Men.

Jesse let out a “huh” sound and raised his eyebrows a little. She turned her head to look at Fives. You didn’t even need to be Jedi in order to tell exactly what was going on inside his head, his wide eyes and the stupid grin on his face were doing all the talking.

“I will not have a threesome with you, do not even ask”, she told him.

“I thought you said you couldn’t read our minds”, he quipped.

“I don’t kriffin’ need to, nor want to. Whatever thoughts are running through your horny man brain right now just keep them to yourself”, she said gesturing to his head. “That goes for all of you”, she continued, turning to look at Jesse then at Hardcase and Kix, who also had a little surprised smile in the corner of his lips. She was glad to know at least Echo didn’t care about it. He gave her an apologetic smile.

“Well do you want to have a go at it, Lexie, or could I?”, Jesse asked with a chuckle.

“Considering she came to a clone bar by herself I don’t think I’d get anywhere but thanks for asking”, she replied with a laugh.

“Maybe we should let Echo have a go. We still need to get him laid”, Hardcase said, elbowing Echo in the ribs.

Echo looked uncomfortable and shot Hardcase a pointed look while nursing his side. Lexie was about to open her mouth to tell Hardcase to mind his business, but Fives beat her to it.

“No we don’t. Echo doesn’t want that”, he stood up for his brother.

“Why?”, Hardcase asked confused.

“I’m just not into that”, Echo said firmly.

Lexie caught his eyes and gave him an encouraging smile.

“Well, less competition for us then”, Jesse shrugged before he got up from the booth and started making his way over to the Twi'lek woman.

“Be respectful and use protection”, Lexie yelled after him, making him turn to give her a look. She and Fives started laughing.

The 79s was more crowded now, and loud music had replaced the pod racing that was being shown on the holoscreens when they had arrived. The alcohol in her system was making her sway with the music. How many drinks had she even drunk so far? Eight? She downed the remaining liqueur in her glass and leaned more into Fives’ side.

“Kinda wish I was dancing”, she mumbled.

“We could go dancing”, Fives said, tilting his head towards her.

“We could go dancing!”, Lexie repeated with a grin, meeting his eyes.

She and Fives got up and started heading to the fairly crowded dance floor. She paused and turned gesturing for the others to come as well. Hardcase didn’t waste any time to get up from his seat but Kix and Echo declined, saying they would join later.

The music was loud and energetic and Lexie started moving with the beat. It had been too long since she’d gone dancing she realised, not since before Geonosis. She loved it, she loved moving with the music and singing along with the songs she knew. It felt reinvigorating. She felt confident when dancing, even if she wasn’t sure she was too good at it. But she had drunk enough not to worry at all about how she looked.

She was dancing next to Fives and Hardcase, and were soon joined by Jesse, who had not had any luck with the Twi'lek woman. After two songs she walked back to the booth and dragged Echo and Kix out and to the dancefloor.

Echo was a surprisingly good dancer she discovered, always on rhythm. Hardcase tended to move a bit too fast regardless of the pace of the song. Jesse had draped an arm across Kix’s shoulder, trying to get the medic to unwind a bit more and jump up and down with him. He then placed his other arm over Lexie’s shoulder and the three of them jumped around to the song. Fives was also a good dancer, but he kept “accidentally” bumping into her every now and then; at one point he took her arm and twirled her.

The next song was one that she knew and really liked and so she started singing along to the lyrics. Fives apparently knew the song too and joined in. The two of them were facing each other, all smiles as they sang along. But baby, I like flirting, a lover by my side/Can't be a good, good girl even if I tried.

Fives stepped closer to her, he knew the song, he was waiting for his moment. I really want your hands on my body/A slow dance, baby, let's get it on. He placed his hands on her hips, pulling her close to him. Lexie laughed and placed her hands on his shoulders. He was getting bolder, but she was enjoying it.

Fives pulled here even closer to him, her hips pressed against his own. Lexie instinctively moved against the plastoid of his codpiece, causing him to sharply inhale at the small friction. She should stop, things were getting a bit too heated. But she really was having so much fun.

She rotated herself so that her back was now pressed against his chest, but his hands were still on her hips, swaying them with the music. She raised her arm up and behind her, hand resting on the back of Fives’ head, fingers grasping his hair. She felt his hot breath on the side of her neck as he lowered his head closer to hers. The song ended but they continued dancing in the same position for the next one as well.

“I think we’re in trouble”, he said in her ear before jerking his head towards their table.

Kix and Hardcase had sat back down, taking a break from dancing, but what Fives was referring to was the clone standing in front of the table, glaring at them.

Rex.

The smile left Lexie’s lips as she watched him make his way towards them and she felt Fives’ hands quickly let go of her body. He looked angry.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”, the Captain snarled at Fives as he stopped in front of them. “That is your superior officer”.

“Rex chill, we were just dancing”, Lexie tried to intervene.

Rex flinched at the use of his name. That was not something that Lexie ever did in front of the men. His eyes quickly darted from Fives to Echo and Jesse, who were close by and had stopped dancing to watch the scene unfold.

“General, do really you think it’s appropriate?”, he retorted.

“We have the night off and I’m having some fun. I don’t see anything wrong with it”, she scoffed.

“But you’re a Jedi, this is not how you should behave”.

Lexie’s eyes went wide at his condescension. Deep down she knew he was probably right, but the last days had been so stressful, all she had wanted was to just forget about everything and enjoy herself. And it had been working up until then, pretending to be a regular person, drinking and dancing with friends, and not someone who was responsible for the lives of hundreds of soldiers and for the winning or losing of battles that threatened the Republic itself. Lexie was now furious and it was visible all over her face. She took a step closer to Rex.

“I am not responsible for falling from a pedestal that you have placed me on”, she said bitterly, jabbing a finger at his chestplate. “I deserve to unwind and have fun just as much as anyone else, even if that doesn’t meet your kriffin’ standards. Do you know how astonishingly bad our mission was? Echo was eaten by a kriffin’ snake. He was eaten! I had to cut him out of its stomach. And I got covered in disgusting, rancid serpent guts in the process. I can still fucking smell it in my hair. I deserve to unwind after the shitshow that was the last three days. So if you’ll excuse me, Captain, I will continue doing just that”.

Rex clenched his jaw. What could he even reply to all that? She turned away from him, grabbed Fives by his hand and dragged him to the other side of the dancefloor.

“Are you ok, Lex?”, he asked. It was clear from the expression on her face that she was very upset.

“Yeah, let’s just keep dancing”, she forced a smile. “Please”.

Rex was sat with Kix at their table, his eyes glued to Lexie as she was still dancing and laughing with Fives, Echo, Jesse and Hardcase. They had only stopped a few times in the past hour in order to head to the bar and do more shots.

He felt so angry, mostly at himself. Lexie was a grown woman, of course she was capable of making her own decisions and entitled to act however she wanted when she was off duty. What the hell was he thinking trying to dictate how she could or couldn’t behave? She did not owe him anything, no matter how much it hurt to see Fives’ hands all over her body.

His grip tightened around the drink in front of him as he struggled to understand why he was feeling so angry. He tried to tell himself that he only thought of Lexie as a friend, but the pit that would form in his stomach every time he glanced over and saw her dancing with Fives or Jesse… Rex realised it might be time to admit that his vode had been right. He did have a crush on her.

“Did you think he would just wait forever for you to make a move?”, Kix’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts.

“I don’t know what you mean”, he replied dryly.

“Sure you don’t. Just like you don’t look like you want to murder Fives either”, Kix quipped.

Rex shot the medic an irritated look.

“Nothing happened yet, you know. She’s been dancing a lot with him yes, but she’s also danced with me and with the others. You still have time to do something”.

Before Rex could reply, Jesse appeared next to Kix and started dragging him out of the booth as “their song” came on and he had to come dance with them. Kix tried to protest that he’d just sat back down, but his brother wouldn’t hear it. Rex lifted his eyes from his drink and saw Lexie by his side.

“Come dance with us, Captain”, she said with a small smile. She had been looking over at him every now and then as she was dancing and hated the sour mood he was in. She was beginning to think she had been too harsh with her choice of words and wished to now make peace.

“Good luck with that”, Jesse told her with a laugh. “I have never seen Rex dance”. He and Kix left for the dancefloor.

“Rex. Please”, she said extending her arm to him.

He shouldn’t.

“I’m sorry I snapped, it’s just been a really stressful mission”, she continued, slurring her words a little.

“No, I’m sorry Lexie. I shouldn’t have said what I said”, he said as he reluctantly took her hand and stood up. He hated that he had upset her.

She squeezed his hand slightly trying to convey she was no longer upset with him before leading him to the dancefloor. Hardcase and Fives enthusiastically cheered as he and Lexie approached the group, while Jesse, Kix and Echo exchanged a look. The Captain never danced. No matter how many times they had tried to convince him, no matter how many women had asked him to dance with them, he never danced. And yet it had taken their general less than five minutes to get him out of the booth and onto the dancefloor.

Lexie placed her hands on Rex’s shoulders. Her eyes were a bit unfocused due to the alcohol but she managed to hold his gaze. Rex placed a hand on her waist and attempted to awkwardly mimic the way her body was swaying with the music. He was not good at this, he had really never danced before, but from the smile on her face it didn’t seem like she cared. His eyes had softened, and he was completely ignoring the looks his vode were giving him. His attention was solely on her.

A slower song came on and Lexie smiled at him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, moving closer and resting her head on his shoulder. Rex placed his other arm on her back and leaned his head towards her, resting his cheek on her head. He took a breath in, inhaling the sweet, floral smell of her shampoo. He knew this was inappropriate but the way she felt in his arms… He was making her happy by dancing with her, and that was making him happy. All he wanted to do was see her smile and hear her laugh. She was so important to him, he realised.

Fear started to settle into his mind; this felt much, much bigger than a simple crush. The relief he felt when the song ended was visible on his face and Lexie looked at him with a confused expression. He excused himself and walked back to their table.

It was late into the night now, and the group was sat back down at the table, with Lexie and Fives being the last to join. Rex had shot up from his seat earlier as he watched the two of them stumble and fall to the floor while laughing and he had decided they had enough dancing, marching over and dragging them back to their seats. The two had plopped down on the bench, still laughing, with Fives leaning a little too much into Lexie’s side. Rex sat down next to Echo on the other side of the table.

“Why the hell did you let Fives get her so drunk?”, Rex asked Echo in an irritated tone.

“Fives didn’t force her to drink. She is just as bad as he is, honestly”, Echo replied.

“Hey! I heard that”, Lexie replied. She pushed Fived off of her and into Jesse’s side and got up, hands on the table and leaning over it to get closer to Rex. “And I am not as bad as Fives. I am much, much worse”, she grinned.

“I’m starting to believe that”, he mumbled as he watched her lose her balance and practically fall back into her seat.

Lexie looked to her left, wanting to say something to Fives, only to discover that he had passed out on Jesse’s shoulder. A wide smile spread on her face.

“Guess I won”, she said looking over at Echo.

“You did. And I will make sure he never hears the end of it, don’t worry”, Echo replied amused.

“Alright, I think that’s enough for tonight”, Rex said looking from Fives to Hardcase who seemed close to passing out himself.

The group started heading out of the 79s, with Echo and Kix having to carry Fives, supporting him over their shoulders. Jesse was walking close to Hardcase, making sure he didn’t trip and fall, leaving Rex to walk by Lexie’s side.

She and the Captain had to stay back, as they could not all fit into the first air taxi. Lexie tried with no luck to get Rex to talk during the ride back to the barracks but the atmosphere seemed very tense between the two of them. Lexie’s mood quickly deflated. She had done it, she had shown him who she was and he was disappointed in her.

She stumbled as she got out of the taxi and Rex caught her by the waist before she fell. Lexie was starting to feel very embarrassed, her inhibitions returning as she was slowly sobering up. The silence was killing her as Rex walked her back to her room but she could not think of a single thing to talk about. Even worse, she was beginning to feel very nauseous and most of the focus was directed to keeping her jaw tightly clenched and willing herself to not throw up.

She immediately entered her room and went straight into the fresher, panic flooding her senses. She hated throwing up, it was the worst feeling in the galaxy for her. She would rather have droids shoot her with live blasterfire than have to throw up. Her right hand was gripping the sink, her knuckle turning white. She just had to focus and not allow herself to get sick.

“Are you okay?”, Rex asked from the doorway of the fresher, concern evident on his face.

All Lexie could do was slowly shake her head. She refused to open her mouth even to speak.

“Do you want me to stay?”, he asked quietly.

She nodded reaching her left hand for his. He took her hand and squeezed it lightly. Over the next half hour neither of them budged from when they were stood, the only movement being made was when Lexie would squeeze his hand harder during the moments she felt close to throwing up.

Finally feeling a little better she made her way to her bed, sitting on the edge. She quietly watched as Rex took off the upper part of his armor, just as he had the last time he stayed in her room all those months ago. He had kept watch as she slept for six nights before she felt safe to sleep alone again. She hated having to admit to herself how happy she was to have him in the room with her again.

“You can just sleep on the bed you know”, the alcohol still in her system prompted her to say as she saw him reach for the chair.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea”, he said hesitantly.

“It’s fine, it’s big enough”, she said as she laid on the bed on her side and shuffled close to the wall.

That wasn’t what he meant and she knew it, but decided to ignore it and pat the spot on the bed next to her. He hesitated. If he agreed, he would cross so many lines. But he would get to hold her in his arms, to be close to her. And he wanted to do it, Maker he really wanted to.

He laid on his back on the bed and did not protest when Lexie snuggled into his side, resting her head in the crook of his neck and her right hand on his chest. He had moved his arm to allow her to settle comfortably and once she had, he placed it around her, hand coming to rest on her waist. He was suddenly so nervous and exasperated to realise how fast his heart was beating.

“What are you thinking about?”, she asked. She sounded tired.

“Nothing. Just go to sleep, General”, he replied trying to keep a level voice.

“Something is bothering you. It’s just us two but you just called me ‘general’”.

“It’s just… you and Fives seemed very close tonight”, he said after a long pause.

“Are you jealous?”, she asked with a chuckle.

“What? No. It was just an observation”, he said defensively.

“You don’t have to worry, you’re still my favourite”, she said lifting her head, eyes finding his.

“I’m your favourite clone?”, he said amused, tilting his head in order to look at her.

“You’re my favourite person”, she admitted.

Rex’s eyebrows shot up in surprised before a genuine smile appeared on his face. She really saw him as a person, as a sentient being and not just an expendable soldier. He had felt that of course, she treated him and his brothers with respect and it was obvious she cared about them, but to hear her say it, to hear her say that he was her favourite person, out of everyone she knew. He felt so happy. She made him so happy. He squeezed her a little tighter into him.

“You’re my favourite person too”, he said quietly.

Lexie was struggling to keep her eyes open, the alcohol and exhaustion from dancing finally catching up with her. She felt the happiness pouring around Rex and smiled, resting her head on his chest. Her eyes fluttered closed, but before she drifted off to sleep she was almost certain she felt Rex’s lips gently placing a kiss on the top of her head.

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