#clone trooper hex

[easwan]

ARC Trooper Hex and his Jedi, General Saryn.

He has crippling survival guilt and a death wish due to his curse of always being the sole survivor of every squad he serves with.

She masks her crisis of faith in the Republic and Jedi Order with playful optimism.

Whether they bring out the best or worst in each other is a matter of perspective.

[eclec-tech]

This hits hard.

5화

[monako-jinn-stories]

It’s late, and I haven’t posted for a while, but happy pride month from me, you’re local Jinn, and Jawa Squad!🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🖤🩶🤍🤎

My personal identities include omnisexual and genderfluid!

I put each of my oc troopers from Jawa Squad’s flags on their respective helmets (bomber was killed before phase 2)

Flags in order,

Left side: Ally, Bisexual, Omnisexual

Right side: Aromantic-asexual, aromantic-asexual gay, gay

[matchademi]

Hex was there when Fives was killed. He was on sorta a half Blackout, so he couldn't do anything, but he remembers exactly what happened, and he hates himself. He is a medic he was standing right next to Fox he could have redirected the shot. Fives was his friend they went out drinking together a few times

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Double, Double Boil and Trouble - Part 3

A/N: This is part 3 my fic for the @rare-clone-fic-exchange, which I wrote for @goblininawig. Part 4 coming soon! The story takes place in a shared continuity with Stars Beyond Number, Martyrs and Kings, and “Do It Again,” but it stands alone and can be read independently of those fics.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Boil x Reader (GN; reader practices tasseomancy/reads tea leaves) 

Rating: T, but minors DNI

Wordcount: 2.5K

Warnings and tags: fluff; banter; DJ spent way too much time on a visual gag; angst

Summary: You and Boil test the limits of the GAR comms filter.

Suggested Listening:

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

gars-best-stache: You up? languishing-in-obscuri-tea: Are you seriously booty calling me at four in the afternoon? gars-best-stache: It’s not a booty call. I’m halfway across the galaxy. Just thought your species might be nocturnal. languishing-in-obscuri-tea: I’m human, you stale baguette. gars-best-stache: You sure about that? languishing-in-obscuri-tea: [MESSAGE REDACTED BY GAR OBSCENITY FILTER] languishing-in-obscuri-tea: WTK, they censor your messages? gars-best-stache: Everything gets scanned when we’re deployed. languishing-in-obscuri-tea: [MESSAGE REDACTED BY GAR OBSCENITY FILTER] languishing-in-obscuri-tea: That’s a *heck* of a way to live. Happy now, censors? languishing-in-obscuri-tea: HA! It worked! gars-best-stache: You’ll have to tell me what you were trying to say next time I’m on Trip Zip. languishing-in-obscuri-tea: TF is Trip Zip? gars-best-stache: Coruscant languishing-in-obscuri-tea: Do I want to ask for an explanation, or is it something boring? gars-best-stache: It’s boring. Let’s talk about something much more interesting: me. languishing-in-obscuri-tea: [MESSAGE REDACTED BY GAR OBSCENITY FILTER]

That was how it started. Simple, mundane messages about your day: he’d complain about his bunkmates’ snoring; you’d describe the most bizarre patrons you saw wandering into the bar next to your shop. He’d send you holos of his favorite gunship nose art; you’d send him silly things you found on the holonet. 

languishing-in-obscuri-tea: Where you at? gars-best-stache: Headed to Kiros. GAR rations are disgusting. languishing-in-obscuri-tea: Sucks to be you. I’m eating crumblebuns and spiced tea right now. gars-best-stache: Maker, why would you tell me that? Are you trying to torture me? languishing-in-obscuri-tea: Mmmmm, crumblebuns… gars-best-stache: I hate you. gars-best-stache: …  gars-best-stache: Can you send me a holo?

Galactic time zones being what they were, Boil’s messages were sporadic and unpredictable. More than once, you lay awake all night, exchanging messages for hours, never talking about anything serious, but strangely reluctant to stop. 

gars-best-stache: Saw this bird while I was on patrol, reminded me of you.

languishing-in-obscuri-tea: First of all, that bird is glorious, and I’ll take the comparison as a compliment. Secondly, [REDACT] you. gars-best-stache: … did you just redact your own message? languishing-in-obscuri-tea: I wanted to be sure you got it. Where you at? gars-best-stache: [MESSAGE REDACTED BY GAR SECURITY FILTER] gars-best-stache: Oops, guess it’s classified.

By unspoken agreement, you both kept things light. Boil had a hard enough time opening up in person; there was simply no way he would be willing to show the vulnerability you’d glimpsed in a holomessage that was subject to GAR scans. 

gars-best-stache: How are things in the con-artist industry? Taken any unsuspecting tourists for all they’re worth lately? languishing-in-obscuri-tea: Careful. I might hex your pillow so it’s never cool again. gars-best-stache: That the best you can do? languishing-in-obscuri-tea: Not even close. I could curse one of your boots so it always squeaks, or make it so your caf is always either too hot or lukewarm. gars-best-stache: Oooh, I’m so scared. languishing-in-obscuri-tea: Tremble before my wrath.

Some days, he’d send dozens of messages; others, only one or two. Sometimes a week would pass with no word from him, and you knew he must be in active combat. The churn of anxiety in your gut would worsen with each rotation until, at last, your datapad would chime and send you scrambling to check your messages. Not that you told him this, of course. You’d send some flippant comment and go back to your usual lighthearted exchanges.

languishing-in-obscuri-tea: Where you at? gars-best-stache: Hyperspace. languishing-in-obscuri-tea: Am I allowed to know where you’re going? gars-best-stache: Nope. What did you do today? Aside from luring innocent victims to financial ruin, I mean. languishing-in-obscuri-tea: Went to the charity shop. gars-best-stache: Get anything good? languishing-in-obscuri-tea: I found the perfect gift for you. gars-best-stache: Aww, you bought me a present? languishing-in-obscuri-tea: 

gars-best-stache: [MESSAGE REDACTED BY GAR OBSCENITY FILTER] gars-best-stache: My stache is amazing! How dare you. languishing-in-obscuri-tea: That’s certainly one word for it. I’m amazed every time I see it. gars-best-stache: As you should be. languishing-in-obscuri-tea: Amazed that none of your brothers have held you down and forcibly shaved it off. That thing is a crime against sentients. gars-best-stache: Didn’t realize it was a crime to look this good. languishing-in-obscuri-tea: I’m calling the Corries. gars-best-stache: They’ll never take me alive!

One of the things that surprised you was just how kriffing boring GAR life was when the troopers weren’t risking their lives in active combat. The tedium and monotony of long hyperspace jumps with nothing to do and nothing to look at except the endless gray of durasteel walls—your soul shriveled at the very idea of such a drab existence. 

Of course, for Boil and the other clones, the alternative was the deadly chaos of the battlefield. It was no wonder the troopers were so ready to hit the entertainment district and blow off steam during their shore leaves. Thus, you took it upon yourself to entertain him.

languishing-in-obscuri-tea: I look hot as K today.  gars-best-stache: Holos or it didn’t happen. languishing-in-obscuri-tea: What’s the GAR policy on spicy holos? gars-best-stache: Wait, what? languishing-in-obscuri-tea: [IMAGE REDACTED BY GAR INDECENCY FILTER] languishing-in-obscuri-tea: I guess that answers that question. gars-best-stache: WHAT WAS IT?? languishing-in-obscuri-tea: 😏 gars-best-stache: You’re killing me. languishing-in-obscuri-tea: Where you at? gars-best-stache: Headed to Sarrish. Might get messy.

“Hellooooo,” Tas called, waving her hand in front of your face. “Anyone home?”

You glanced up from your datapad, blinking as your brain struggled to switch  gears. You stashed your datapad and gave the Dathomirian an irate glare that she definitely hadn’t earned.

“Don’t you have some runes to cast?” you asked.

“Nope, but one of your regulars is here,” she replied.

You peeked out into the reception room and spotted a clone trooper. He was wearing civilian clothes, but he wasn’t hard to identify. As he turned his head, you spotted the distinctive scar on his jaw—courtesy of a lightsaber, he’d once told you—and your mouth went dry as your heart began to pound.

“I think he has a crush on you,” Tas teased.

“He definitely doesn’t,” you muttered.

You quickly straightened your clothing and glanced in the mirror to make sure you didn’t have anything in your teeth. Straightening your shoulders, you plastered on your patented brilliant smile and walked out to greet him.

Not all armor is made of plastoid, you thought grimly.

He glanced up as you entered, his eyes as cold as ever. The broken nose was new, though. No doubt it had been well-earned. You were briefly envious of whatever lucky individual had broken it.

“Hello, Hart,” you said. “Welcome back.”

He nodded, and his eyes flicked past you to Tas. His jaw tensed, and you intervened quickly before he could say something awful to her. She might have been a Nightsister, but she was the softest marshmallow imaginable, and you’d be contractually obligated to murder Hart if he hurt her feelings. Not that you had any particular objection to the idea, but bloodstains were so hard to get out of the carpet. Best to avoid them if possible.

“Right this way,” you gestured toward your reading room.

“I know,” he growled.

You ushered him into the room and closed the door. “Is there any particular advice or guidance you need today?”

Like maybe a complete personality transplant?

“Cut the kark,” he said. “You know why I’m here.”

You felt your teeth clench, and you suspected that your signature smile might have briefly morphed into a snarl before you recovered.

“Indeed, I do, Captain,” you said in a voice so artificially sweet you could practically feel the cavities forming. “But my readings take at least fifteen minutes, so you might as well get comfortable if you don’t want anyone to suspect why you’re really here. Would you care for tea?”

“No.”

Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes, you rummaged through your tea cabinet until you found the tiny latch you were searching for. You flicked it open, and the back of the cabinet slid down to reveal a hidden compartment. You withdrew a small case and handed it to Hart without a word.

He opened it and glanced through the contents.

“It’s all there,” you said.

He grunted, then glanced impatiently at his chrono. “Kriffin’ hell, how has it only been three minutes?”

You shrugged and began to brew a pot of tea. “Might as well make the best of it.”

He grumbled, then reluctantly asked, “Do you have any of those chocolate biscuits from last time?”

“Those are only for people I like,” you replied. “You can have the boring ones.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, but still ate the plain biscuits you gave him. You assumed that Hart’s sweet tooth was even bigger than most of the troopers’ to offset his general sourness.

“Milk? Sugar? Lemon?” you offered more out of habit than hospitality.

“You have milk?” he asked.

You pulled the bottle out of your mini-conservator and passed it to him.

“I’m taking this,” he said, then he grabbed the packet of biscuits. “And these.”

He stood and strode toward the door.

“It’s only been ten minutes,” you pointed out as you followed him.

“Longest of my life,” he snapped.

You didn’t bother to suppress your eye roll this time. He threw open the door to your reading room and headed for the exit, pushing past Tas wordlessly. She watched him with an expression of astonishment, and when the door slammed behind him, she turned to you.

“Was that bantha milk?” she asked, baffled.

“Yeah,” you replied. “What a kriffin’ weirdo.”

“Hmm,” she said contemplatively. “Kind of hot, though.”

You snorted. “Maybe if you have a thing for sociopaths.”

“He can’t be that bad,” she laughed.

“He’s worse. Want a cup of tea? I’d just finished making a pot when he decided he didn’t require my services today.”

She gasped in faux outrage. “The nerve! You’re right; sociopath isn’t a strong enough word. Clearly, he’s a monster.”

“Exactly,” you replied. “Now come help me drink this tea and tell me what horrors your nightmare of a flatmate has committed recently. Is he still doing that thing with his feet?”

You didn’t hear from Boil for several days. You had more or less expected this, but still, his silence made you restless. It wasn’t so bad at first. The shop was busier than usual because the palm reader had traveled to his home planet of Aldhani for Mak-ani bray Dhani, leaving you and the rest of your fellow mediums to pick up his customers. Every night after the shop closed, you dragged yourself to your flat and collapsed straight into bed, endlessly thankful that the Eye of Aldhani only happened once every three years.

Of course, once you were in bed, your mind would begin to race, wondering where Boil was, whether he was safe, when—or if—you would see him again. Inevitably, you would get up after a few hours and settle onto your sofa with a cup of tea while you practiced the mind-calming techniques your grandmother had taught you so long ago.

One such night, as you sipped your tea and levitated a sugar spoon in tiny circles in front of your face, a thunderous crash sounded outside, rattling your windows and instantly obliterating your concentration. The spoon clattered to the floor as you rushed outside to investigate. 

On the walkway in front of your shop, beings of every imaginable species stumbled out of the various bars, clubs, and shops. Speculation ran rampant: was it another Separatist attack? Another Zillo beast incident? Sirens began to blare in the distance, but no further disturbance occurred, and eventually the walkways began to clear out as people either drifted home or returned to their revelry.

The next morning, you awoke in a bed drenched with sweat. Your apartment was stifling. Groggily, you stumbled to the window to slide it open, but it was even hotter outside.

“What the kriff?” you mumbled, grinding your palm against your face to clear your bleary eyes.

Your datapad flashed with a notification indicator, and you snatched it up, hoping to see a message from Boil at last, but instead, you had a missed comm from Tas. You called her back immediately.

“Tas, what’s going on?” you rasped, your voice hoarse from sleep. “Why is it so hot?”

“Did you hear that big boom last night?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

“It was the district relay substation for the planetary weather control system,” she said. “Coruscant WeatherNet said it could be days before it’s repaired.”

“What?” you asked, aghast. “What about air filtration?”

“They’re trying to compensate with other relay stations to keep it livable.”

“Do you think we should close the shop until it’s repaired?” 

“I doubt we’ll have many customers,” she said. “I’m more worried about you, though. The rest of us don’t live in the district, so we’re all safe. Do you have somewhere you can go if it gets bad?”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling very alone and vulnerable in a way that you hadn’t felt in years. “Not really.”

“Then you can come stay with me,” she said firmly. 

“What about your horrid flatmate?” you objected. “Won’t he object to me crashing on your couch?”

“Who cares?” she asked. “We’ll outnumber him.”

Reluctant to cause even more tension between Tas and her flatmate, you waffled. “Maybe I’ll stick it out for now. If it gets bad, then I’ll come stay with you.”

“Are you sure you want to wait that long?”

You shrugged, forcing an optimistic tone. “Maybe it’ll be fixed soon.”

“Maybe…” she said doubtfully.

“Look at it this way. The Entertainment District is a huge credit-cow for Coruscant. They won’t let it go on too long and risk losing all that tourist revenue.”

“Good point,” she replied. “Well, if you change your mind, my couch is super comfy, and you already have my door keycode.”

“Thanks, Tas,” you replied gratefully. “You’re the best.”

You ended the call and prepared for a few very uncomfortable days. It wasn’t ideal, but you managed. The air quality never did get as bad as you expected, but the temperature grew steadily warmer. Against all odds, you managed to buy a small climate control unit—the last one in the store, and you nearly had to fight an Ishi Tib for it, but you set it up in your studio and ran it round the chronometer to keep the flat livable. For the first time, you were grateful for how tiny your studio was; if it had been any bigger, there was no way the little unit would have been able to cool the space.

As Tas predicted, no customers came to the shop, so at least you didn’t have to worry about closing up. It was a strange sight: the Entertainment District, silent and completely deserted. Empty walkways; empty nightclubs, bathed in the neon signs advertising closed businesses to an audience of nobody. It was kriffing eerie, was what it was.

If you’d thought it was hard to sleep before, you were nearly frantic now. The silence was overwhelming, accustomed as you were to the endless roar of traffic and thumping of dance music. Eventually, you found an ambient noise station on the holonet and let it play nonstop.

And just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, they did.

Five days after the relay station failed, you turned on Republic HoloNet News to see a headline that knocked the air from your lungs: “Overwhelming Republic Casualties at Sarrish; GAR in Full Retreat.”

Boil.

---

A/N: the mug says, "Galaxy's okayest mustache." Both pictures by me 🧡

[leapingbadger]

This song is giving me maybe flashbacks to my story, Broken. I literally can't hear it without thinking about Hunter 😭

Excerpt:

“You really have no right to look this good in battle.” He said so only she could here.

“I’m sure he same could be said for you if you ever took off that bucket.”

Hunter chuckled.

She grinned, flicking up the brim of her helmet and pulling Hunter’s helmet up so only his lips and nose were visible.

“Hex, what are you…” She pulled on his chest plate, their lips connecting briefly before she pulled away and grinned.

“Look, it’s over. We won.” She said gleefully, looking out and the carnage of broken battle droids.

Hunter froze. “No, it’s not.” He growled. “Droideka inbound.” He pressed the comm on the side of his helmet. “Wrecker, Tech, Cross, we’re gunna need some backup.”

“On our way.” Tech’s crisp voice said. Hunter ducked back down below the log.

“Keep your head down.”

“Always.” She said with a grin.

The droidekas rolled into view and Hunter unleashed a barrage of fire that bounced off its forcefield.

They waited for it to move. “Ready? Hunter let off a shot that got through the field but didn’t land to do enough damage. Hexa’s went wide. And she cursed under her breath.

“I’m gunna draw it’s fire, when the shields are down you…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Love. I got it.” She said with a smirk. “Don’t you dare die.” She said, blowing an air kiss.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He said smugly, throwing himself into the line of fire and drawing the attention of the droid while darting across the battlefield. The droid followed him, shots ricocheting off the trees behind him as he dodged this way and that, until it stopped. Hexa stood up, a green shot from her energy bow making contact as the droideka. The green fire seemed to draw its attention. Hunter skidded to a halt and charged back to her.

“Get down you’re drawing too much…”

Hexa’s face was set as she sent a final shot through the droid's eye just as Hunter skidded to her side. The droid let a final bolt escape it as it shuddered and fell apart.

Hunter turned and looked behind him as he heard the shot connect with something soft and felt his heart stop as he saw Hexa keel over backwards. He threw himself towards her, catching her before she could hit the ground.

Blaster fire still reigned down around him from the remaining droids. Troopers mounted a defense, swarming past him to take care of the final threat.

Hunter felt his heart in his throat, lungs burning from his run.

“Hexa?” he said, his voice panicked. “HEXA?” he shouted again.

He hovered over her, his hands stretched out looking for an injury. He couldn’t hear her. Couldn’t hear her heartbeat or her breath. There was no movement. Her eyes still glowed amber, speckled with gold, a faint smile on her fuchsia lips. He pushed on the brim of her helmet, pulling it back to see the singe of a blaster bolt in the middle of her forehead.

She was gone.

Hunter had never felt agony like this before.

He took his helmet off and threw it away as he cradled her face in his hands. “HEXA?” he asked again “Hexa, please.” He said begging for her to wake up, to come back. But this wasn’t something she could come back from. He knew that deep down.

He heard blaster fire in the distance, the sound of feet pounding on the forest floor, but it didn’t matter, nothing mattered.

He kneeled over her, pressing his lips to hers, still soft, still warm, wishing he could breathe life into her. He brushed the dirt off her face, straightened her braids so they cascaded over her shoulders. And looked. Just looked at her.

In an instant he’d lost everything.

His love.

His future.

His hope.

They were going to have a life. He would survive the war for her. They would settle down and have a home and have a family and have the life no clone thought they could have. He was going to love her forever and be loved in return. He was going to grow old with her. He was going to die first. HE WAS SUPPOSED TO DIE FIRST.

And it had all been ripped away.

He heard Tech and Wrecker gasp as they arrived. Crosshair’s light footsteps hesitated on the edge of the clearing.

“Man down” Tech said quietly into the comm. “Hunter…I…” he said, but the words died in his lips.

Hunter couldn’t hear him anyway, not really. The weight of grief drooped in his stomach and pulled him down into an abyss.

Tears. He’d never cried before, but tears globed out of his eyes and fell on her beautiful blue skin. He brushed them from his cheeks roughly but tasted the salt of the ones that couldn’t be contained. They continued to fall and soon he was shaking. The quake that went through him didn’t seem large enough considering the galaxy had been torn asunder and he was freefalling through the chasm.

“Hunter…” Tech tried again, his voice sounding tight in his throat.

But Hunter only had eyes for Hexa. He pulled off his gloves, taking another look at her beautiful, gold speckled eyes before gently closing them. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, committing her to memory, searing her into his heart like a tattoo.

He let out a scream without knowing where it came from. It exploded out of him. The sound of a wounded animal clinging to the last vestiges of life.

“Hunter, we have to move.” Tech said softly.

Hunter felt Wrecker’s hand gently on his shoulder. “Hunt…” he said, so soft. So sad.

Hunter nodded, trying to blink away the tears but seeing as though through a haze. He scooped Hexa into his arms. Her head lolled back, and he choked out a sob, adjusting his arms so she was cradled, so it looked like she was sleeping and not…gone.

He pulled her close, tucking her into his chest. Drinking in the floral scent of her. He rested his cheek on her hair, kissing her gently and whispering promises she never got to hear. He didn’t know what he was saying, would never be able to recall it, but she knew. She would know forever, somehow.

[aweisz]

ai-less whumptober day 9: scar reveal

but that's not all! i've also written a thang. cw for heavy(?) body dysmorphia

there was no word strong enough to describe how much lazar despised communal freshers. at least the ones that higher-rank clone troopers used on the ship had actual running water, and not whatever sonics had in them. not unlike many chagrians, lazar was rather traditional in regards to what constituted an actual shower— water, for example.

although, if they were completely honest with themselves, lazar also missed feeling water on their skin; even this poor approximation of a proper swim was better than nothing.

someone should probably look at whatever the problem with the general’s own fresher was. not that it was such a pressing concern at the moment, but still.

at least there were no mirrors here

lazar quickly shed all their clothing and stepped under the stream of water. if he was quick enough, he probably wouldn’t encounter anyone else here. not many commanding officers were up at this time of night, anyway.

don’t look down don’t look down don’t look down

spreading soap on himself using only one hand certainly didn’t add to his speed; the fake skin on the prosthetic was far too slippery to hold a bar of soap, and the arm itself lacked the needed precision to do anything, really. what a shame, though. lazar would give anything to avoid touching the scarred flesh that covered half of his body. at least his right hand was still fully functional.

because you lost something much more important that day

who made the kriffing soap so slippery. they bent down to pick it up.

you looked down

gritting his teeth, lazar straightened up. he needed to deal with whatever this was like a grown, mostly functional adult. so, he looked down, now on purpose.

the missing arm, the vast expanse of burnt skin going all the way down his leg, was nothing new. but it was wrong, wrong, wrong.

nothing was right, not since i lost her.

not since you killed her?

i didn’t—

keep telling yourself that. maybe you’ll even believe it someday.

I DIDN’T—

“general? shit. general, look at me!”

“i did—” the world started slowly coming back into place. it was, frankly, too bright, and too much of it was taken up by some— no, by a certain clone commander.

shit. shit. shitshitshitshit. fuck.

“get out,” lazar said, hoping it passed as a command. it did not.

“yeah, no. you hit your head pretty hard on the floor here. i’ll get you to the medic.”

lazar glared at hex. hex returned the glare. lazar suddenly remembered that he was completely naked, and hex could see all of him, and— not again.

“at least let me get dressed first,” they bargained, pointedly avoiding any thoughts that would bring whatever that was back.

[thatonefanficwriternooneknows]

Thanks for the clearing up the Exes confusion!

So since they are arcs, do they all wear customized ARC trooper armor?

Also, ship wise, Codex/Cantina, Hex/Kix, Flex/Echo/Fives, Apex/Ponds, and Lex is ace?

As far as looks wise, who of the Exes has the most body mods?

Cant wait to see ur next work! Love it!!

Oooooh! They more or less wear customized ARC armor, but Apex keeps misplacing his kama and Codex just doesn’t like wearing it cause it gets them stuck in the vents sometimes!

And ship-wise, it’s actually Lex/Cantina in a mutually Ace relationship. Codex is also Ace and Aro, Apex is always with Rush and they both tend to crush on Ponds and Windu, Hex is always with Prost and Hetic (in How to Care for Your Corries specifically they are working on adding Kix and Jesse), and for some reason I just really like Flex/Fives/Echo 😂😂😂

As for body mods I’ll have to double check my spread sheet at a later date to be sure but:

Codex: none visible, they have a belly button (where one would be anyway cause clones=no umbilical cord is my fav headcanon) ring that doubles as a tracker and they’re trying to convince Hex to let them get a neural implant. But that’s all~

Apex: has prosthetic forearms similar to Anakin’s but both arms, a prosthetic foot, and a prosthetic hip. He doesn’t like piercings but he did let Hex tag him with one (nsfw) for tracking purposes.

Hex: fully prosthetic arm. He’s also got some (nsfw) piercings. His tracker is also a belly button ring.

Flex: surprisingly intact. They have several piercing holes down the shell of their ears (both) but they lose the jewelry very often. Their nipples are also pierced but they rarely use the jewelry.

Lex: the only one with in tattoos. A flower representing Cantina on their foot, a large back piece (haven’t decided of what yet but it’s for their batch), a vulpex named Foxy on the outside of their ankle, and the Commander Fox Prayer in Mando’a on their forearm. I think I gave them a prosthetic too??

If you want the full list of scars and what not I’ll need my spreadsheet 😂

Thank you for asking <3 hope I answered your questions and I’ll do better about being clearer in the fics!! <3

(Chapter 13 is almost done, my wife is just sick and I ran out of time :( )

[easwan]

YES! This is exactly the direction my fanfiction Fog of War goes in!

My protagonist, Sergeant Hex, has seen Jedi die on Geonosis and knows they're mortal. He served under Ki Adi Mundi and Pong Krell and knows they're imperfect and fallible. He's met Jedi he finds boring, Jedi he finds annoying, and Jedi he really wants to slap. Most of all, he lives with a Jedi on a small undercover ship and has seen her in every state of disarray--seen her tired, seen her irritable, seen her meditating and fresh out of the shower, seen her awkward and unsure how money works, seen her struggle with command and rise to the occasion, seen her injured and grieving, and seen her laugh and dance.

A clone trooper seeing past the legend and recognizing the person beneath while she in turn connects with him on an individual level and advocates for him is the emotional heart of my story

we talk a lot about the Jedi being the only group of people in the galaxy who consistently see the clones as people. but what if it goes both ways. if clones are little more than droids, then Jedi are the knights out of fairy tales and romance novels. the galaxy's perceptions and preconceptions are much like anakin's in tpm. the jedi are immortable infallible unkillable. they are paragons of virtue and light and intelligence. they are not people so much as concepts. legends. superheroes.

these people are as removed from the Jedi as they are from the clones. maybe even more so. the clones work with the Jedi every day. the clones see them make mistakes. simple human* errors. they see them mourn and rage and laugh. they see them try. so hard. they see them fail. they see them fall.

their Jedi are people. and the clones love them all the more for it.

subhuman clones and superhuman jedi

[rebelscums]

Sunrise (Crosshair x Medic reader)

Ratings: Angst | Fluffish

Summary: A trip to the Outpost along with a clone who refuses to tell you his name… What’s the worst that can happen?

Pt 1 of Sunrise

“Hello.” I said to the tall man with an infamous scowl and toothpick in hand, followed by my name.

He didn’t return the sentiment, choosing to acknowledge me with a tilt of his head.

“Did they say where we are going?” I asked.

“Not yet.” He said simply.

I tugged on the strap of my medical bag, “It must be important if they wanted me along.”

He glanced at me, “You’re new right?”

I nodded, “Yes sir.”

“Don’t do anything stupid and you’ll live.” He stated before looking towards a group of soldiers and an officer coming our way.

“Thanks…” I spoke dryly, “For the pep talk.”

“Anytime sweetheart.” He replied.

“I’m not your-”

“CT-9904. You are out of uniform.”

My back straightened up as I saluted the lieutenant while the clone trooper put on his helmet.

“I am lieutenant Nolan. Your support officer for this mission.” He said to the clone trooper before his gaze flickered to mine, “And who are you?”

“I am a medic sir. Here to help save as many lives as I can.”

“You only need to worry about mine.” He said.

“But sir, the soldiers-“

“They are only clones.” Nolan spat.

“They are people.” I squared up my shoulders, “And they deserve help too.”

“I should have you fired.” He said with a dark look in his eyes.

“Speak with the general. He’s the one who personally assigned me to this mission.” I stated, “…Sir.”

His glare hardened as he sized me up before scoffing, “We will be head to a remote outpost to transfer container shipments.”

With that lieutenant Nolan walked up the ramp.

“Why did you do that?” The soldier with the snarky attitude asked.

“Because clones are people too and not only that, you have fought to protect countless lives. Your lives are just as important as anyone else’s. Someone needs to make sure you get the respect you deserve.” I stated as I made my way up the ramp, “I like you better without the helmet by the way.” I teased before heading inside.

I heard a faint chuckle before his footsteps followed after mine.

The flight to the Outpost was fine so long as the lieutenant stayed at the front of the ship… I felt bad for the pilots, but the clones back here made nice conversation.

“What was the funniest thing you experienced during the clone wars?” I asked the trooper known as Hex.

“That would be when Short-fuse ate this meal from an outer rim planet we were stationed at. He swore his mouth was burning for weeks from how spicy the dish was.” Hex chuckled before his laughter dimmed, “He was a good soldier and brother.”

“I am sure he was.” I gave him a comforting smile.

When we landed on the outpost planet, the snow was nearly blinding from the sun as the hanger door veered open. Nolan shoved his way past us to get ahead, only for him to slip on the ramp.

Pack tried to help him out only for the most disgusting noise I have ever heard to come out of the lieutenant’s mouth. I glared in his direction as I placed my hand on Pack’s arm.

“Don’t worry about it.” I said to him, “He’s just a loth cat from hell.”

This brought a laugh from Pack before he went off to survey the area. I immediately found my way to the only clone with black armor and a really big rifle.

“Loth cat from hell Huh?” I could hear the grin in his voice.

I leaned closer to him whispering, “I would call him worse, but that would only make me as bad as him.”

“Hurry up!” Lieutenant Nolan called for us impatiently.

“See? You can here the hissing screech from a mile away.” I joked as we caught up.

“Glad to see we weren’t forgotten.” A trooper with long hair and a beard spoke up, “I’m Commander Mayday.

“It’s nice to meet you Commander.” I said with a greeting of my own name.

Two other clone troopers sat by the portable heater trying to keep themselves warm.

“It’s nice to meet you both as well, but what do you mean by forgotten?” I asked, my brows furrowing, “Surely the empire has been supporting this outpost?”

“No. We’ve been here for over a year with no support.” Mayday stated.

Nolan scoffed, “Well the empire has more important things that need to be done then worry about you clones.”

“I’m so sorry you were left out here like this.” I breathed out my eyes falling to the helmets lined alone the crate, “And your men… They are…”

“All dead, except for us.” Mayfield confirmed.

“My deepest condolences.” I offered him a small smile.

“Thank you.” He nodded.

“It’s what they were made to do.” Nolan rolled his eyes.

“No it wasn’t.” I glared at him.

He returned it just as heavily before he walked away, “Start getting everything squared away. We’re shipping these crates now.”

“What killed them?” The sniper clones voice rang out through the room.

“Raiders mostly. Weather and whatever creatures reside here.” Mayday explained, “Come on, I’ll show you around.” He nodded his head at me, “You can come too.”

The cold chilled through my bones the moment we stepped outside.

“As harsh as this planet is, the view is quiet beautiful.” I spoke as we looked around.

“Trying looking at it for over a year with things trying to kill you.” Mayday joked dryly.

“Ah.” I chuckled, “Yeah I’d probably hate it too.”

“Where have they been coming in at?” Crosshair asked as he surveyed the area.

“The ridge over there, but don’t go out there on your own, it’s too dangerous.” Mayday explained as he watched the trooper look around.

“I’m sorry you and your men have had to go through with this. I thought the empire would be more considerate…” I sighed.

“Seems like the empire is only considerate when it benefits them.” Mayday stated.

Before I could respond a blast sounded through the base.

“The raiders?” I asked in fear.

“Yeah.” Mayday confirmed.

We quickly took off in the direction of the blast.

“I’ll go left and you two go right! We’ll cute them off!” Mayday ordered.

I quickly followed behind the tall clone, wondering where he could be heading.

“What are doing?” I asked as he ran away from the blast.

“I need a vantage point.” He snipped, taking two steps at a time practically leaping up the tower.

I was less agile and it took me a moment longer to reach him. I found him already looking through his scope, searching for his target. I stood beside him, squinting to see any movement of someone possibly injured.

I could feel it before it happened, turning to the clone to warn him, “Watch-”

The blast came before I could finish my sentence, hearing him hiss in pain shot worry through my chest as he rubbed at his eyes. Still, he pulled himself together to wound one of the raiders trying to escape.

“Hey, hey wait!” I called out to him as he went to chase after the raider.

“What?” He sneered.

“I need to check yours eyes. You’re hurt-” I tried to grab his arm, but he was to quick, bounding down the steps.

“Go help someone else!” He called as he chased after the escaped raider.

I cursed as I ran down the steps, “That man.” I muttered, making my way towards the blast to see if anyone needed help.

“Is there anything I can do?” I asked once I spotted Mayfield.

He shook his head solemnly, “My men are dead.”

My breathe stopped, “Oh. I’m so sorry…”

He only shook his head, smiling grimly, “It’s what we do.”

“You are all worth more than this. I hope you know that…” I looked in the direction the clone trooper went, “I hope he knows that.”

“He went after them alone didn’t he?” Mayfield sighed.

I nodded, “He did.”

“I’ll go get him. You should get inside.” He suggested.

I nodded, not wanting to burden him with anymore struggle today, “Drag him in if you have too. I can see he is very stubborn.” I sighed, “I’ll see you both inside.”

I could tell from how stressed the troopers we flew in with were after the explosion and now having to deal with the uptight luitenant.

“Where have you been?!” Nolan ce yelled at me the moment I entered the facility.

I almost mocked the way he looked frazzled, his blonde hair out of place.

“I was aiding Commander Mayday and a clone trooper, sir.” I answered.

It was abrupt the way he took quick strides towards me, grabbing my arm with brute strength. I flinched at the pain, knowing that bruises would welt in place of his fingers soon enough.

“You aid me! Not these lowlife insufferable clones! That is an order, do you hear me?!” He spat in my face.

A dark figure found itself in my peripheral, “I think everyone heard you. Sir.” The clone hissed in disapproval, toothpick in his mouth.

Nolan huffed, shoving me hard into a crate, “They stole from us! I need you clones to go retrieve them now!”

“I have no men sir. They were both killed in the blast.” Mayday stated, “Some thing that extreme would require a lot of men. I request taking a some of your men out there if you want the crates retrieved.”

“No!” Nolan glared before pointing at the two soldiers, “You both go get them. That’s an order.” He spat on the ground before leaving.

Mayday rolled his eyes at the sheer disrespect coming from the newbie.

“Hey stranger…” I pushed myself away from the crates and opening my bag, “I need to take a look at your eyes to make sure no damage was taken earlier.”

“I’m fine.” He huffed while crossing his arms.

“I know you are, but as a medic it would put me at ease to double check. It won’t hurt right?” I asked holding the equipment I needed.

He nodded stiffly before making himself comfortable on a crate. I was internally grateful because it would make this a lot easier with his height.

“Thank you.” I whispered as I stood between his legs.

“I’ll get some gear and wait outside.” Mayday said as he left.

I gently grasped his chin, “If you could tilt your head up just so… Perfect.”

It was quiet while I checked his eyes, thankfully finding no long term damage.

“Are you… Alright?” The softness in his voice almost sounded foreign.

“Me?” I took a moment to take in his face, “I’m alright, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You’ve had that happen to you before?” He asked.

I nodded, “Some officers tend to feel the need to assert their dominance. To strengthen you for the empire they would say.” I chuckled dryly.

“Your eyes look perfect.” I said as I took a step back.

He nodded once giving me a hum instead of a thank you.

“Just make it back alive okay? I don’t think I can handle another plane ride with that idiot if you’re not there.” I joked.

“Hm.” He stood up and grabbed his rifle, “We’ll see.”

I stepped in front of him before he could walk out the door, “Can I at least know your name now?”

A small smirk grazed his lips, something that I would love to spend my days staring at. I was disappointed when he put his helmet back on, something that he noticed quickly.

“No.” He stated simply before he walked out, “Try not to die.”

I huffed in annoyance as I went to put the equipment away. I knew that all I had to do was look at his file, but where would be the fun in that?

The day went by mundane, soon falling into night. The temperature only became colder and my worry for the safety of the two men increased.

“Sir.” I acknowledged the lieutenant who looked too cozy by the heater, a hot plate of food in hand.

“What is it?” He asked annoyed.

I stood a ways from him, hands clasped behind me as the glow of the heat barely reaching my skin, “The commander and soldier have been gone for too long. I suggest we send a search party to retrieve them.”

He raised an eyebrow, “You suggest?” He slowly set his plate down on one of the crates, “Tell me medic.” He said my title like it was humorous to him, “In what system does a medic outrank a lieutenant officer?”

I took a step forward, “When lives are in danger sir.” I spat.

“You obey me!” He yelled standing up.

“I obey my oath!” I matched his tone, “And right now those men, your men could lying in the snow somewhere bleeding to death!”

“Then so be it!” He waved his hand, “I don’t care about outdated clones!”

“Then you aren’t worthy of your title.” I glared before walking out the door.

The last thing I needed was a bullet through my head from his short temper. I needed to be smart about this.

It’s too dark out to travel now. No use for me to get lost or hurt out there. I think daybreak should do it, I can pack some supplies and head out in the direction they went. First I needed a map of the area.

“Hey Pack?” I called out to the trooper on watch.

He turned to me, “Yes?”

“Can you send me a layout of the planet to my holo pad please?” I asked.

“Of course?” He said unsure, “Why would you need a map? If you don’t mind me asking that is.”

“Sightseeing.” I answered with a chuckle and he returned it, not wanting to push any further.

“You’ll receive it shortly.” He answered.

“Thank you Pack, have a nice night.” I waved goodbye to him before heading towards my sleeping quarters.

“You as well medic!” He called back.

There was only one thought in my mind as I packed for my journey and went to bed.

Don’t worry, I’ll find you.

Trying to sneak out of camp was trickier than usual, but not impossible. It was a window of moving shipments that weren’t labeled correctly that allowed for my escape under the Lieutenants nose.

“I’ll start with a small perimeter in the direction they went and go from there.” I mumbled to myself as I walked on, “Hopefully they just made camp for the night and are heading back.”

The cold nipped through my clothes and onto my skin as I spent hours traveling through the snow. My feet felt numb, but I carried on for their sakes and for my own peace of mind.

“Where are they.” I groaned as I tapped on my holopad to readjust the coordinates.

Suddenly a red beeping on the screen signaled a storm heading my way.

“Dank ferrik.” I cursed as I looked for shelter.

The wind began to pick up as flakes of snow coated my lashes. In my panic to get out of the storm, I failed to miss the shadow creeping up behind me and the blunt of a gun hitting the side of my head.

“Wake up.” A posh voice followed by a kick to my gut had me rolling over in pain.

My eyes fluttered open to find a blurry figure slowly shifting into the body of the Lieutenant.

“How dare you disobey orders.” He scoffed, “I should have you courtmartialed for this.”

I closed my eyes at the prospect of being behind bars or worse… Suffering the fate of being decommissioned.

“You are lucky the commander favors you.” He sneers and I let out a breath of relief.

I shouldn’t have for he was not finished.

“But he’s not here to defend you. If a small accident would occur resulting in the fate of your death, that would not be dismissible.” His smile was as wicked as his heart.

My heart began to race as I watched him reach for his blaster.

“Lieutenant.” A breathless clone entered the room, “The two soldiers… They have returned.”

“Do they complete their assignment?” He asked with mild annoyance to being disrupted.

“No sir. It seems the commander was hurt.” The clone answered.

“Hm… It seems i have two examples I must take care of.” He glanced at me, grabbing my handcuffs and yanking me towards the door, “Follow.”

It was colder without my coat as the lieutenant dragged me behind him. My heart hasn’t stopped racing as we stumbled to the sniper and commander. The site in front of me showed that the two were no better off than I was, worse even.

“Look at this pathetic failure medic. You risked your life to go save them and yet here they are, without my crates.” The lieutenant rolled his eyes.

“Mayday is hurt.” I rasped out trying to get to the two soldiers, yet his grip never faltered on my cuffs.

“Help him.” The sniper rasped out as he took in deep breaths.

“No.” The lieutenant stated simply.

“Please.” I pleaded, “Let me help him.”

“That would be a waste of supplies. He is expendable just like the other clones.” He leaned in to say mockingly, “Besides I’d enjoy watching you suffer before I end your pathetic life, medic.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched my new friend take his last breath being able to do nothing, but struggle fruitlessly.

“Let me go!” Every bone in my body shook in shame when I couldn’t do the only purpose I held in my life… To save others.

“I’m sorry.” I sobbed, “I’m so sorry.”

“Next time I would think twice about disobeying orders.” He spat.

“You could have saved him.” Crosshair all, but growled as he knelt beside his comrade.

“He was expendable as are you and as is she. Now get back to work clone.” The Lieutenant ordered as he dragged me behind him, “And now I’ll be dealing with you.”

My eyes widened knowing the meaning behind his words, “No… No, no please.”

I tugged on my hand only to be met with his fist against my cheekbone. The stinging left my vision blurry as I tried to steady myself. I didn’t hear the sniper slowly stand up, his gun raised in anger as he glared towards the monster of the empire.

“Lieutenant.” The sniper growled.

The lieutenant sighed in annoyance as he turned around, “What is it?”

His eyebrows raised at the sight of the gun and he was quick to pull me in front of him, his arm locked around my neck.

“I wouldn’t do anything foolish if I were you clone.” The lieutenant sneered, “You shoot me and I take her down as well.”

“Hm.” He hummed, “You shouldn’t underestimate a clone.” Was all he said before his aim shot through the Lieutenants head before he could even blink.

Two bodies fell in that moment and I was quick to rush to the troopers side. His breathing had slowed as he stared up at the sky.

“You’ll be okay.” I whispered to him, the tears blurring my vision, “I am grateful to you.”

“Crosshair.” He breathed out.

My brows furrowed in confusion, “What?”

“My name…” His eyes began to close, “Is Crosshair.”

My sob came out as a choked laugh as guards began to surround us.

“It’s nice to meet you, Crosshair.” I spoke softly.

I prayed to the force in that moment that it wouldn’t be the end for us.

Please… Let us live.

[easwan]

His Jedi's bed offers a better night's sleep than his military bunk.

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[monako-jinn-stories]

Disobeying Direct Orders

Sans & GN!Reader FanFic

This is a sort of bonus fic from a chapter of a story I never fully wrote. I made this like two years ago. It was supposed to be a Plo X Reader fic buuuuuuuuut my fictional crush changed

Main Master List

Angst Master List

OC Master List

Warnings: none? Angst definitely, main character death as well. One-sided attraction (Sans crushing on reader)

Also, towards the end there’s a couple random parts from another planned-but not written chapter of the same story that I wanted to add in for fun :)

You gaze out the window for a second before feeling someone pull your head to look at them. Before you can say anything, Sans is gently pressing his lips to yours. You feel yourself jump slightly at his sudden action, but tell yourself not to draw away as you don’t want to hurt him. You know he has a reason to suddenly act this way. When he pulls away, you open your eyes to stare at him, your lips slightly parted in surprise.

“Just in case something happens to one of us here, y/n. I’ve always wanted to do that, from the day I met you. Ever since I laid eyes on you, I’ve loved you.” And with that, he walks away, leaving you standing, stunned in place.

“Wow, I think that’s the first time you’ve ever been rendered speechless,” you hear Steele jokingly comment. You turn your head slightly then jerk it back again to face him, while saying “shut up!” You give him and Hex, who’s laughing beside him, a stern look and walk out, following behind Sans who is now waiting outside with the rest of the 17th.

“Ready, General?” Sans asks while winking at you.

You bite your tongue to avoid smiling at his action and respond, “yes, Commander.” You turn to face your men and say, “alright, you know the plan and your positions! Let’s get this done Troopers!” Your troopers cheer as they hear your command and begin to separate, heading off to their positions.

~~~

“General Jinn, I’m afraid I don’t have enough time to get the bomb to the correct location and be able to escape the range in time!”

You feel your heart slow when you hear those words over the comm link.

“Then forget it, Sans! Drop it where you are and meet us back here!” you yell in response

“I can’t, General, I’m sorry! I have to do my duty!”

Your heart starts racing then, as fear begins to seep into your veins.

“Sans, no! I’m ordering you to come back here at once!” you respond again, voice shaking ever so slightly as you speak.

“I can’t! My duty is to the republic, to the Jedi, to you y/n! I have to do this to protect everyone, including you! I’m sorry!”

“Sans no! I gave you a direct order to get back here! You will obey it!” You wait for a response, but the silence that follows is loud enough to be it’s own.

“Sans!” you yell again, blood turning to ice as you realize he’d destroyed his comm link to avoid having to hear you beg him to come back.

The next few seconds happen in slow motion. You look towards the building where you know he’s still inside. You feel yourself turn and start sprinting towards it, tears beginning to boil in your eyes. “SAAAAAAAANS!” you feel yourself scream.

Suddenly someone grabs your arm and pulls you back, and as you turn to see who it is, you see Steele’s eyes bearing into yours, begging you to stop. His eyes hold the words you don’t want to accept, that there is no stopping Sans. You push him away with the force and begin running towards the building again, but in the next second there’s a massive explosion that pushes you back through the air. You land and roll for a second, stopping on your stomach. You lift yourself up just as you see a helmet fall to the ground and land beside you. It had stripes the same color as your lightsaber blade. You feel your body tremble as you grab it and run towards the ruins where a building had stood mere seconds ago.

When you enter the building, it takes only a few paces to find your commander.

“Sans...” is all you manage to whimper as you see him. He had attempted to escape even though he knew he didn’t have time. You fall to your knees beside his body, and hold his head with one hand, pressing shaking fingers to his neck with the other.

“Please...” you quietly beg, waiting to feel a pulse under your touch. After a few seconds, you start to mumble, “no, no, no! Sans no!” You let go of him and slam your hand onto the ground.

“Damnit, Sans! I gave you a direct order!” you say as you begin to cry.

“Why can’t you ever listen to a damn order I give you?!” You feel yourself sobbing as you ask this question that you know will go unanswered.

You sense it when Hex approaches you, bending down to look at his commander. You se him bow his head in mourning. Steele stands behind him, resting his hand on Hex’s shoulder.

“He did what he believed was the right thing, General. There was no stopping him or changing his mind,” Hex says quietly to you. You just shake your head in response, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

“I gave him a direct order, he should have listened to me! He would still be alive if he did!” You turn your head to look at your troops. Steele refuses to meet your gaze as he shakes his head. You can sense the pain coming from both of them. Their commander, their best friend, is gone. The one trooper they looked up to more than anyone.

You look back at Sans, who has a determined look resting on his face. You brush your fingers down his cheek once, and stand up. “It’s time to go home...” you quietly speak. Your major and captain nodded their heads, and together they lift up his body. You lead them back to your ship, where the other troopers of the 17th are waiting.

You hear mumbles and gasps as they see their commander. You climb the boarding ramp and turn to see them place Sans on his bunk. They cover him with his blanket, and you feel the ship begin to take off. You place his helmet on the floor, where he would always have it waiting.

~~~

You step off your ship, following behind your troopers. The people who are gathered in the hanger turn to greet the 17th, but their smiles fall away when they see Hex and Steele carrying Sans. You keep your gaze forward as you walk towards the door to the elevator that would take you down to the main floor of the temple. Your dry tears have created stains that run down your face, and you do little to hide your sorrow from those around you. You see them look at you, see how they notice a Jedi that has become overwhelmed with emotion. A Jedi who allows themselves to truly feel.

~~~

The funeral is fit for a king. Hex and Steele give a beautiful eulogy, and you were given medals to commemorate his sacrifice and honor, which you shakily place on his breastplate as he lies peacefully in his casket.

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

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[matchademi]

Merit:*running around base after being stuck in the medical wing *

Hex:QUIT IT WITH THE FUCK ZOOMIES FEARLESS

[mackstrut]

Hey Mack!

Sorry for being MIA. The seppies had us pinned down for longer than we thought and we had to get the 327th to come bail us out.

So yeah, I have been out of comms. But the moment I got back I was like! MACK! I forgot to tell you I was going. But I’m back.

Well, how have you been. Anything to report.

💙 from Hex

I've been good Hex, it's nice to hear from you. How have you been since we last spoke?

[crispyjenkins]

Hi just wanted to say that I loved your fic about obi’s new armor that his troopers gave him and the implications behind it. It was amazing and just an all around great read! Though I was just wondering if you were planning on doing a sequel and if not could I request one where it is after Obi-Wan is found and recovering and the 212th are just worrying about their amazing General because holy moly did he go through a lot and little angst with some soft fluff from his family and love Cody.

(Anon, your ask got buried and I no longer know if you meant this Codywan or the Obvious/Domestic one. If you meant the other, shoot me another ask and I’ll fill that one asap!

very minor drug overdose and near death experience warnings for this one! slytheringinger300 wanted hurt/comfort and who am i to refuse      ( ˘ ³˘) i meant to get to the rest of ghost company, but it got a little repetitive, so i hope this is okay!

first part here!)

  “... never seen this suppressor before, sir, I don’t... mess with the detox... run its course... yes, sir.”

  “... updated, Wupi... days from Coruscant, and General Skywalker... rotation.”

  “... let you know, sir.”

                                                         —

  It’s Waxer that carries him back to the Negotiator, one leg and arm swung over his shoulders while Wooley collects the scattered pieces of his armour. Cody retrieves the chestplate personally, and somehow manages to convey unadulterated rage even through his expressionless helmet.

  Obi-Wan hates it when Cody is angry, it means it’s all gone wrong, and Obi-Wan never knows how to keep his commander afloat when it’s something enough to break his perfect calm.

  Woozily, Obi-Wan thinks he isn’t in much shape to be keeping anyone afloat, unable to even stop his head from bouncing against the back of Waxer’s shoulder. Blaster fire echoes around him, muzzle flashes blinding his half-open eyes, and Obi-Wan doesn’t remember there being anyone other than the Nikto, but clearly there must have been a crew of some sort. Now, why his men hadn’t taken care of them on the way in, he has no idea.

  ‘Just a little longer, sir,’ some part of Obi-Wan’s brain tells him, sounding suspiciously like Cody. A very worried Cody.

  Frowning, it takes Obi-Wan significantly more concentration than it should to shape his thoughts into words. ‘I am only very drugged, darling, though regrettably not the fun kind.’

  A stumbled footstep, a fizzle of comms, and then Cody’s voice returns, ‘General?’

‘Yes, hello there. It is quite remarkable you’re able to hear me, are you sure the vode cannot be Force sensitive?’

  ‘Is now the time, sir? You hardly have a pulse, you shouldn’t—’

  Waxer shakes under Obi-Wan, or wait, no, it’s the floor that shakes, as if something has knocked into the ship, but it also knocks whatever connection he’d had to Cody completely out of his grasp. Concentration doesn’t return, and Obi-Wan decides it’s a useless exercise anyway, letting the easy listlessness that’s carried him this far carry him again.

  Cody’s voice cuts through his haze just long enough for Obi-Wan to register that they’ve reboarded the Negotiator, and that Wupi is very, very unhappy with him.

-

   “We ever tell you it was Wupi’s idea?” Cody asks, sleepy cadence prodding at the edges of Obi-Wan’s mind. “‘Never seen him get shitfaced enough to miss an appointment before.”

  Confused, Obi-Wan tries to sit up, and not only finds that he can’t, but that the Force also tells him to stay the kriff down, and he really must’ve been worse off than he thought if the Force is concerned about him personally.

  He tentatively reaches out with his mind, and can’t feel much further than the medbay, but that’s alright, he can feel Cody’s presence just fine, sat next to his bed and hunched over something in his lap. He’s tired, Obi-Wan notes, but that molten metal anger is gone, replaced with a resignation he’ll need more time to decipher; he shudders to think how long Cody’s been sitting there.

  Because he knows Cody’s been there as long as he’s been able to convince Wupi to let him, and the thought doesn’t scare Obi-Wan as much as he thought it would.

  “They’ve all been through,” Cody continues, chair creaking as he resettles himself and Obi-Wan catches a whiff of paint. “Everything is Shiny-bright again, ‘looks even better than Kix’s at this point.” No one’s armour looks as good as Kix’s, not when he keeps it immaculately clean and touches up the paint twice a month. “I had to kick Wooley out, he’s in here any time he’s off shift; I think Wupi’s going to murder him in his sleep.”

  Obi-Wan wants to snort at that, but settles for a tiny twitch of his fingers that Cody surely wouldn’t notice: Wupi’s been threatening to kill Wooley since Kamino, Obi-Wan doubts he has to worry about it these days.

  Cody sighs, something bone-deep and exhausted. “Wupi says you’ll be coming out of it soon, he didn’t want to do more than flush your system in case... General Ti says there’s a very low chance of any lasting damage, but kark knows none of us know anything about the Force, so we’ll just have to wait and see.” 

  His easy grasp of the Force even while mostly-comatose assures Obi-Wan he’ll be perfectly fine once he wakes, but he can’t actually assure anybody else until then, which is as frustrating as anything when he’s right there, just out of reach. 

  Cody moves again, setting something large on the cart next to the bed as he gets to his feet. Instead of leaving, though, he places a heavy hand on Obi-Wan’s chest, right over his sternum. “You’ve been walking around with my kar’ta for months now, General. Let’s get you set to rights so you can keep doing that.” He taps two fingers over Obi-Wan’s breastbone, where the beskar’ta would be, and Obi-Wan’s heart lurches. 

  He hadn’t... He didn’t think Cody had meant it like that, anything more than a protection charm, but then again Obi-Wan knows very little of Mandalorian armour traditions, how could he have known, oh Force, is that what the bounty hunter meant—? 

  “Your thoughts are very loud, sir,” Cody tells him with a soft laugh, though Obi-Wan is sure his shields are firmly in place. ‘Rex says I should give you the chestplate properly, but you’ll have to be fully awake for that, sir.’

  ‘Well, that’s not quite fair, Cody.’

  ‘Stop getting drugged, then. Wupi only has so much hair left.’

  Cody taps his sternum once more before his footsteps take him away, and Obi-Wan settles back to give many things quite a bit more thought. 

Mando’a: vode — “brother, comrade”, meant specifically here for the clones kar’ta — “heart” beskar’ta — “iron heart”, the elongated hex-shape common in Mandalorian armour designs (great post here comparing them to katana tsuba). also called kar’ta beskar or “heart of the iron”.