#Light Interceptor

[alphamecha-mkii]

Jedi Interceptor by Jessica Kholinne

[merlyn-bane]

i still can't believe skywalker got a slap on the wrist after all of that nonsense with r2 instead of, idk, a fucking court martial?

[jessequinnfirstofhername]

@chucksax you inspired me 😉

[swtechspecs]

Kuat Systems Engineering Delta-7 Aethersprite-Class Light Interceptor

Source: The New Essential Guide to Vehicles and Vessels (Del Rey, 2003)

[tiredspacedragon]

Went to Bricksplosion, a local Lego event, this morning, and managed to come home with a few new treasures.

(Not pictured: a complete Vezon and Fenrakk, with the right cape and everything! Plus a few bags of loose pieces that most of Lesovikk came out of)

Happy 810NICLE Day everyone : )

[hxans]

My collection grows

[johniac]

https://bit.ly/stc041625

[army-navy-air]

How did pilots of the SR-71 Blackbird prevent the aircraft from leaving contrails over 65,000 feet?

The SR-71 Blackbird was designed to fly at Mach 3.2, or more than three times the speed of sound, and at altitudes up to 85,000 feet. At such extreme conditions, the air temperature was very low, around -60°C, and the air pressure was very low, around 0.9 psi. This meant that the air was very dry and could not hold much water vapor.

The SR-71 had two powerful Pratt & Whitney J58 engines that used a special fuel called JP-7, which had a very high flash point and low vapor pressure. The fuel was also used as a coolant for the engines and the airframe, which heated up due to aerodynamic friction. The fuel was circulated through heat exchangers and then sprayed into the engines’ afterburners, where it ignited and produced thrust.

The SR-71’s engines had a unique feature called “ejector nozzles”, which allowed them to operate efficiently at both subsonic and supersonic speeds. The nozzles consisted of two concentric rings: an inner ring that could move forward and backward to adjust the exhaust area, and an outer ring that had slots to allow air to enter the exhaust stream. The air entering the slots created a shock wave that increased the pressure and temperature of the exhaust gases, making them expand faster and produce more thrust. The air also diluted the exhaust gases, reducing their water content and making them less likely to form contrails.

The SR-71 pilots had to carefully monitor the engine performance and adjust the nozzle position to avoid contrail formation. They also had to avoid flying through clouds or areas of high humidity, which could trigger contrail formation. They used a device called a “contrail light”, which was mounted on the tail of the aircraft and projected a beam of light downward. If the light reflected off a contrail, the pilots would know they had to change their altitude or speed.

One example of a close encounter with a Soviet fighter occurred on Oct. 6, 1986, when an SR-71 was flying along the coast of Murmansk. The pilot, Ed Yeilding, spotted a long white contrail coming towards him at lower altitude. He realized it was a MiG-31 interceptor, one of the few aircraft that could reach the SR-71’s altitude. He raised his periscope and saw that he was also leaving a contrail behind him. He knew that the MiG-31 pilot could see his contrail as well and might try to fire his missiles at him if he crossed into Soviet airspace. He decided to stick to his planned track and get his pictures while depending on his speed and altitude for survival. The MiG-31 came as close as eight miles before running out of airspeed at 65,000 feet.

If you want to learn more about it, I recommend reading some of these books:

Lockheed Blackbird: Beyond the Secret Missions (Revised Edition) by Paul Crickmore

Sled Driver: Flying the World’s Fastest Jet by Brian Shul

Skunk Works: A Personal Memoir of My Years at Lockheed by Ben Rich

[spiderfangirl22]

Don’t Say That It’s Over I’d Kill To Be Closer IV

Two updates in 1 day wow!!! Even I’m surprised it might take some time for part 5 so maybe by Thursday I should have part 5 out

Warnings: Blood, Yandere, Violence

John Wick, the Baba Yaga, the man they called Johnathan, moved with a purpose that belied the years he'd tried to leave behind.

Winston's voice echoed in his mind, the urgency in his tone a stark reminder of the stakes.

He pieced together the fragments of information Winston had provided. A former colleague, a missing daughter, a car heading north. It was a thread, a fragile one, but John knew how to pull.

He activated his network, the web of contacts he'd cultivated during his years in the underworld.

Information flowed, whispers in the dark, digital breadcrumbs leading him closer to his target.

The car had been spotted, heading towards a remote cabin in the Adirondacks.

He traced the license plate, a phantom vehicle registered to a shell corporation. The former colleague remained elusive, a ghost in the system.

John prepared with meticulous care. He donned his signature suit, tailoring hiding a lightweight ballistic vest.

Underneath, he strapped a holster with his preferred handgun, a Heckler & Koch P30L.

He checked the magazine, the weight of the rounds reassuring in his hand. He packed a duffel bag with additional weapons, ammunition, and the tools he might need for infiltration.

His vehicle of choice was a black 1969 Ford Mustang, a muscle car resurrected from his past.

It was a symbol of the life he'd briefly tasted before it was ripped away, a reminder of the price he'd paid. He drove north, the Mustang devouring the miles, the city lights fading behind him.

He arrived at the location Winston had provided, a winding dirt road leading to a secluded cabin.

He parked the Mustang deep in the shadows, concealed by the thick foliage. As he scanned the area, he spotted a dark charger parked near the cabin, its tinted windows obscuring the interior.

A closer look revealed the telltale markings of a police interceptor, stripped of its official livery but still bearing the subtle modifications of surveillance equipment.

A cop? Involved in a kidnapping? The pieces didn't quite fit. He waited, patience a weapon honed over years of experience.

The car remained stationary, its occupants unseen. After what felt like an eternity, the Charger finally pulled away, disappearing down the dirt road.

John emerged from the shadows, his movements fluid and silent. He approached the cabin, his senses on high alert.

He circled the perimeter, searching for points of entry. The windows were reinforced, the doors were solid, but the framing wasn't perfect.

He found a weakness near the back, a loose panel in the wooden wall.

He reached into his bag, withdrawing a slim jim and a lock pick set.

He worked quickly, bypassing the rudimentary security system. The panel gave way, revealing a dark space behind the wall. He slipped inside, moving with the silence of a predator.

He found himself in a storage room, boxes stacked against the walls. He moved to the door leading into the main cabin, pressing his ear against the wood.

He could hear voices, hushed but distinct. He recognized Y/N's voice, thanks the recordings of her from Winston, laced with a hint of fear.

He kicked the door open, bursting into the room, his gun leveled. Y/N stood frozen, her eyes wide with shock. Her black green eyed  kitten, Shadow, scurried behind her, her fur standing on end.

In that moment, John felt a pang of protectiveness, a flicker of genuine concern for this woman he had never met.


His presence hadn't gone unnoticed. Y/N,  scrambled to her feet, instinctively backing away. Then, she noticed the resemblance. 

The eyes, the set of the jaw… it was almost uncanny. She had spent weeks staring at Tom, imprinting his features onto her memory. 

And here stood a man who could have been his twin, save for the subtle differences – the stubble shadowing his jaw, the sharper lines etched around his eyes, the air of lethal competence that radiated from him.


She stumbled back, fear warring with confusion. "Who... who are you?" she stammered, instinctively seeking cover behind the armchair.


John Wick raised his hands slowly, palms open, a gesture of peace that felt almost absurd in his line of work.

”My name is John Wick," he said, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "I'm here to help you. Your father is worried about you." He kept his voice calm, slow, and gentle, the same way he would with an unpredictable animal.


Relief washed over Y/N, so potent it almost buckled her knees. Her father had sent someone and not just anyone it seemed as she had heard stories of the infamous baby yaga and here he was at her door…She was going to be free.

"You... you're here to rescue me?" she whispered, her voice trembling with hope.


"That's right," John replied, offering a small, reassuring smile. "Let's get you out of here."


But the complex knot of emotions that had been tightening in Y/N's chest for weeks refused to unravel so easily.

Despite everything, despite the fear and the uncertainty, there was a thread of connection between her and Tom Ludlow, a bond forged in the crucible of shared trauma. And she couldn't just abandon him.

"I can't leave him," she said, her voice stronger now, laced with a desperate plea. "I won't."


As if summoned by her words, a figure appeared in the doorway, silhouetted against the dim light. Tom Ludlow.

He had seen the car parked in the distance, that so desperately tried to hide from view but, Tom being a cop was as observant as ever. He knew something was wrong.


His eyes fixated on John, and then on Y/N. Comprehension dawned, followed by a surge of raw, desperate anger. He raised his pistol, aiming it directly at John.


"Get the fuck out of here," Tom snarled, his voice shaking. "This doesn't concern you, fucker!”


John didn't flinch. "This does concern me," he countered, his voice still calm but with an underlying edge of steel. "I'm here to take Y/N home."

Without another word, Tom fired.


The bullets slammed into John's chest, the impact muffled by the bulletproof vest. He grunted, the force momentarily staggering him, but he didn't fall.


Y/N screamed, a high-pitched, piercing sound of pure terror. "Tom, no! Stop it! Please!"


But Tom was beyond reason, his mind consumed by fear and desperation. He fired again, and again, the cabin filling with the deafening roar of gunfire.

John moved with blinding speed, a blur of lethal motion. He dodged one shot, deflected another with his forearm, and closed the distance between them in a heartbeat.

He lashed out, his hand a lightning strike, hitting Tom's wrist with brutal force. The gun flew from Tom's grasp, clattering to the floor.


Before Tom could react, John had him pinned against the wall, his forearm pressed against his throat, cutting off his air supply.

He reached down, retrieving the spare pistol holstered at Tom's waist. He brought it up, the cold steel pressing against Tom's temple.


"Please! Don't!" Y/N shrieked, her voice hoarse with desperation. She rushed forward, grabbing John's arm, pleading with him. "Please, don't kill him! There has to be another way!"

John hesitated, his gaze locking with Y/N's. He saw the raw fear in her eyes, the desperation, but also something else – a flicker of something that looked like… compassion? He lowered the gun slightly.


"There is another way," Y/N insisted, her voice trembling but firm. "We can go to my father. He can pay off your debt. Tom and you can be the heroes. If Winston finds out Tom took me, he will kill him himself, but if we bring him back as the man who saved me, he will be spared."


The suggestion hung in the air, absurd and improbable.

But John saw the logic in it, the desperate attempt to salvage a situation spiraling out of control.

And he saw something else too – he saw why Tom a cop would risk everything even jail time for this women.

Y/N was beautiful, pure, innocent, with a hint of raw spirit, and she seemed to see the good in people as she had stopped him from ending the pathetic cops life.

Y/N had to be more pure and innocent than his late wife, Helen. 

John slowly looked at Tom, his face contorted with fear and desperation. He saw the weakness, the misguided love that had driven him to this point. He could have easily ended his life, but he stopped himself.


John released Tom, shoving him away. "Alright," he said, his voice flat. "We do this your way. But one wrong move, and I won't hesitate." To make a point John touched the gun attached to his waist.

The uneasy truce was struck. They gathered their belongings, the atmosphere thick with tension and unspoken recriminations. As they prepared to leave, Y/N approached John, her expression a mixture of gratitude and concern.


"You're hurt," she said, gently touching his arm. "Let me clean those wounds." John hesitated, unused to such gestures of tenderness. 

But he allowed her to guide him to a chair, her touch surprisingly gentle as she examined the bruises left by the bullets. She cleaned the skin with a damp cloth, her brow furrowed in concentration.


As she tended to his wounds, John found himself studying her face. He saw the resilience in her eyes, the quiet strength that had allowed her to survive this ordeal. He saw the beauty that Winston had spoken of, a beauty that went far beyond mere physical appearance.


He understood now. He understood why Tom had been driven to such desperate measures. He understood the possessive love, the fear of losing something precious.

He wasn't sure he condoned it, but he understood it. He realized that he, too, would have been in the same place as Tom right now as he’d would have also taken drastic measures to keep Y/N by his side..Such an innocent and pure soul.

As Y/N cleaned the blood, she could see the pain etched on Johns face, the weariness in his eyes.

She realized that beneath the ruthless exterior, there was a man who was burdened by his past, a man who was capable of empathy….She was tempted and couldn’t resist and gently cupped his cheek his facial hair tickling her fingers slightly.

At first John tried to pull away but the sweet and gentle touch of this women had him conflicted. So he gave in and leaned into her touch. 

"Thank you, John," she said softly. "For saving me. For not killing Tom."

John looked at her, his eyes searching. "You shouldn't thank me. I did what I had to do."

Y/N nodded and removed her hand from his cheek and went to check on Tom who had finished packing John’s mustang.

They had to leave Tom’s charger behind much to his displeasure, as Winston knew the car model that had taken is daughter and wouldn’t hesitate and shoot Tom Where he stood.

They all sat into the Mustang, John behind the wheel, Tom and Y/N in the back. 

The ride to the Continental was silent, each lost in their own thoughts. 

As they drove, John couldn't shake the feeling that he had crossed a line. He had spared a life, not out of mercy, but out of understanding. He had seen a reflection of himself in Tom, a man driven by love and desperation.

Finally, they arrived at the Continental, after a few grueling Days, the imposing building a beacon of neutrality in a world of violence. 

Y/N was astonished at the building only having see it once as her father didn’t want her involved in this life. She once again reached into her almost empty back of ranch Doritos and offered and Tom and John some and they politely declined.

John parked the Mustang up front and handed his keys to the Valet and led them inside, the familiar atmosphere of the hotel washing over him.

He approached the front desk, where Charon, the concierge, greeted him with a knowing smile. 

"Welcome back, Mr.Wick," Charon said, his eyes flickering towards Y/N “ I trust everything went according to plan?"

"More or less," John replied, his voice noncommittal. "I need a room for three."

Charon nodded, handing him three keycards. "Of course, Mr. Wick. And as always…Enjoy your stay."

They went up to their room, the opulent suite a stark contrast to the rustic cabin they had left behind. Y/N turned to John, her eyes filled with gratitude.

"Thank you, John," she said again. "For everything."

John nodded, his gaze fixed on her. "Get some rest, Y/N. You've been through a lot."

He turned to leave, pausing at the door. He looked at Tom, his eyes filled with a silent warning. "Don't make me regret this," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

He stepped out of the room, leaving Y/N and Tom alone. As he walked down the hallway, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held. 

He had broken his own rules, defied his own code. He had allowed love and compassion to cloud his judgment.

He knew that Winston would be pleased that he had rescued his daughter. 

But he also knew that Winston would be suspicious of his actions. He had spared a life, a life that deserved to be taken after what they did.

As he reached the lobby, he saw Winston waiting for him, his face etched with concern. "Johnathan," Winston said, his voice grave. "Tell me everything."

John nodded, preparing to recount the events of the past few days. He knew that he had a lot to explain, a lot to justify. But as he looked into Winston's eyes, he saw not judgment, but understanding. 

He realized that Winston knew him better than anyone else in the world.


He began to speak, his voice low and steady, recounting the events of the past few days. 

As he spoke, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief, a weight lifting from his shoulders. He had done what he had to do, even if it meant breaking his own rules.

As he finished his story, Winston remained silent, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but firm. 

"You have done well, Johnathan. You and this man I have yet to meet myself..have saved my daughter's life. And for that, I am eternally grateful."

John nodded, accepting Winston's praise. He knew that he had earned his gratitude. But he also knew that he had changed, in ways that he couldn't yet comprehend.

He had seen the power of love, the strength of compassion. He had spared a life, and in doing so, he had perhaps saved himself.

And he hoped that the officer didn’t mind sharing such an innocent soul such as, Y/Ns

[alphamecha-mkii]

[usafphantom2]

Blackbird pilot recalls the mission where a Soviet MiG-25 Foxbat fired a missile at his SR-71

Soviet MiG-25 pilot tells why Foxbats were not able to fire a single missile at SR-71 Blackbird Mach 3 spy planes

The Soviet MiG-25

The “holy grail” of the soviet air defense system: shooting down a Blackbird

Missile fired at an SR-71

MiG-25 at risk of being shot down by its missile

What happened to the missile fired by the MiG-25 at the SR-71?

The Soviet MiG-25

The Soviet MiG-25 (NATO code-name “Foxbat”) was a high-speed interceptor and reconnaissance aircraft. The aircraft entered service in 1970 and has a top speed of Mach 2.83, powerful radar, and could carry up to four air-to-air missiles.

The MiG-25’s capabilities were not discovered until 1976 when Viktor Belenko, a Soviet MiG-25 pilot, defected to Japan. Subsequent analysis revealed a simple-yet-functional design with vacuum-tube electronics, two massive turbojet engines, and sparing use of advanced materials such as titanium.

CLICK HERE to see The Aviation Geek Club contributor Linda Sheffield’s T-shirt designs! Linda has a personal relationship with the SR-71 because her father Butch Sheffield flew the Blackbird from test flight in 1965 until 1973. Butch’s Granddaughter’s Lisa Burroughs and Susan Miller are graphic designers. They designed most of the merchandise that is for sale on Threadless. A percentage of the profits go to Flight Test Museum at Edwards Air Force Base. This nonprofit charity is personal to the Sheffield family because they are raising money to house SR-71, #955. This was the first Blackbird that Butch Sheffield flew on Oct. 4, 1965.

A capable interceptor, the MiG-25 was widely exported by the Soviet Union. This aircraft could outrun any fighter in the air, and indeed any military aircraft other than the SR-71 Blackbird.

Loaded with two R-40 missiles (NATO reporting name AA-6 ‘Acrid’), the Foxbat could reach 78,000 feet, but with its full complement of four missiles, it was limited to 68,900 feet. By contrast the Habu flew at cruise speeds above Mach 3 at over 80,000 feet.

The “holy grail” of the soviet air defense system: shooting down a Blackbird

Nevertheless, once an SR-71 Blackbird flown by Col. Darrel Cobb was fired on by a MiG-25, as Cobb himself recalls in this interview given to his son Chris;

Col. Cobb’s SR-71 Blackbird fired on by a MiG-25.

‘Operational missions.

‘First let me assure you; we never broke President Eisenhower’s promise to cease overflying the Soviet Union. We remained over international water – 12 mi offshore.

‘All of my operational flying was from Kadena, Okinawa. Area of interest was Vietnam; Korea; Vladivostok, USSR; China. Later, we flew transatlantic & return from Seymour Johnson, NC supporting the Israel Arab war. After I left the program, the SR flew from Mildenhall, England & Bodo, Norway.

‘We already touched on missions against Vietnam & the only night mission.

‘Today let’s cover “north missions.”

This print is available in multiple sizes from AircraftProfilePrints.com – CLICK HERE TO GET YOURS. Dawn at 80.000ft – SR-71 Blackbird

‘Take off, refuel & head into the Sea of Japan; between Japan & south Korea. Accelerated to operational speed – 3.20. Head directly at Vladivostok. headquarters of USSR air defense; and test/r & d of new radar & intercept development. 2200 mph guaranteed to light up all the radar & intercept systems they had.

‘A MiG-25 interceptor squadron was based just outside of Vladivostok. The “holy grail” of the soviet air defense system was to shoot down an SR-71.

‘Turn north up the Sea of Japan & make a U-turn back down the USSR coast (12 mi offshore) with ELINT & SIGINT recorders going full bore. Photo cameras looking oblique into the USSR, updating the interceptor air order of battle. Head south east till past Vladivostok then turn slightly left then right to cross Korea at the DMZ. Photo cameras updating N. Korea force readiness to resume hostilities against S. Korea.

Missile fired at an SR-71

‘Continue down the yellow sea coast of China. All sensors evaluating China’s threat to Taiwan. Turn left- decel & land at Kadena. I flew this profile several times during the 4 years I flew ops missions. One of these got very, very thrilling. Southbound, passing Vladivostok, Reg (my RSO) announced;

‘”We’ve got a fighter locked on – it’s gotta be a MiG-25″

‘”Our DEF [Defensive Electronic Gear, DEF. It Provided ground-to-air and air-to-air missile protection. Still Classified. Def systems were labeled DEF A,B,C,E and G. Later modifications to the DEF Systems resulted in DEF A2, C2, H and M systems. Nearing retirement of the SR-71, a programmable DEF labeled A2C could defeat all known threats to the Blackbirds] is blanketing all beautifully.”

‘”Oops – he just fired – – we’ve got a missile locked on”

‘”Our def has shifted to its missile magic”

‘”There – lock’s broken. Missile’s back in search”

‘”That’s weird – sounds like the missile’s locked on – but not locked on us”

‘”He’s gone – coming up on the “s” turn to the DMZ.”’

Fast forward to late 1976 Col. Cobb retired from the Air Force.

MiG-25 at risk of being shot down by its missile

Cobb continues;

‘I’m retired! Learning that retirement means no days off; no vacation; no holidays; big pay cut.

‘I find the aircraft TV channel & history channel. Lots & lots of SR-71 films. I avidly watch at every opportunity. In my den, glued to the TV & today’s SR-71 show, & who do I see comparing the MiG-25 with the SR-71??

‘You’re right – – Lt Victor Belenko!

‘He was totally gobsmacked; his MiG-25 burned up the engines getting to Mach 3 yet the SR’s cruise speed was greater than 3.0.

‘Belenko is the one who said that the Holy Grail of soviet air defense was to shoot down an SR.

‘He told of how they would pre-position ahead of the SR’s radar track and had to zoom up to get a lock on & fire their missile.

‘Belenko stressed how quickly & precisely they had to perform because the window of opportunity was so very short.

‘Their target was traveling at 3600 ft/sec. Faster than a speeding bullet.

‘He described in detail how precise the post firing breakaway had to be executed to avoid getting shot down by their own missile; talking as though they found this out the “hard way.”’

Cobb Concludes;

‘Man talk about intense attention – – I’m quickly mentally replaying that tape from the inter-phone – –

‘”We’ve got a fighter locked on – it’s gotta be a Mig-25″

‘”Our DEF is blanketing all beautifully.”

‘”Oops – he just fired – – we’ve got a missile locked on”

‘”Our def has shifted to its missile magic”

‘”There – lock’s broken. Missile’s back in search.

‘”That’s weird – sounds like the missile’s locked on – but not locked on us.”’

What happened to the missile fired by the MiG-25 at the SR-71?

What happened to the missile fired by the MiG-25? Could it have locked onto the Foxbat itself? Could the SR-71 DEF have deceived it? We’ll never know.

However, we can assume that given that SR-71 had a cruise speed faster than the top speed of the MiG-25’s Acrid missiles, the Blackbird simply outran the AA-6. There was no chance a Foxbat could conduct a tail-chase interception of an SR-71 (the MiG-25 couldn’t carry out a head-on intercept of a Blackbird too: in fact, the Foxbat’s radar and fire control system was not sophisticated enough to solve the problems of a head-on intercept at closing speeds that would exceed Mach 5).

Be sure to check out Linda Sheffield Miller (Col Richard (Butch) Sheffield’s daughter, Col. Sheffield was an SR-71 Reconnaissance Systems Officer) Twitter X Page Habubrats SR-71, Instagram Page SR71Habubrats and Facebook Page Born into the Wilde Blue Yonder Habubrats for awesome Blackbird’s photos and stories.

@Habubrats71 via X

[girlactionfigure]

The ballistic missile fired by the Iran-backed Houthis in Yemen a short while ago apparently impacted in the area of Ben Gurion Airport.

The IDF says it fired interceptors at the Houthi missile, and is investigating the impact at the airport.

There are no immediate reports of injuries.

In an update, Magen David Adom says eight people were hurt in the Houthi missile attack on Ben Gurion Airport.

They include a man in his 50s in light-to-moderate condition with trauma to his extremities and two women, aged 54 and 38 in good condition who were hit by the shockwave.

A man, 64, was lightly hurt after he was hit by an object which flew from the impact site, and two more women, aged 22 and 34, were lightly hurt while running for shelter, MDA says.

Another two people were treated for acute anxiety.

[enriquemzn262]

Favourite British Jets? don't know much about them

Oh I have plenty!

The English Electric Lighting supersonic interceptor.

The Hawker Hunter first generation fighter jet.

The Bae Sea Harrier VTOL subsonic naval fighter jet.

The HS Nimrod maritime patrol aircraft.

And while not a jet, I do really like the Short Belfast turboprop transport aircraft.

[domesticatingaliens]

You know, a while ago I saw a post speculating on potential alt modes for some bots if they were to appear in a potential bayformers-esque continuity, and most of them were some variation of expensive brand sports car, which, based on everything else in that franchise, is fair.

But also love and light to everyone, Prowl would not be a skinny sports car. In my heart of hearts I know he'd be a 2020 Ford Police Interceptor.

Do you see my vision. he's a meaty fuck ass truck. look into my eyes

[bunny7567]

I got you - chapter 20

Pairing: Rex x Jedi!ofc

Word count: 7.2k Tags/Warnings: descriptions of injury; a little angst; i made Rex cry; half this chapter is a Kix appreciation post; Tup's purpose in this is just to stand there like 🧍‍♂️

Previous chapter | Next chapter

cyare - beloved vod'ika - little brother/sister ori'vod - older brother vod - brother osik - shit, crap atin - stubborn Jetti - Jedi ner kar’ta - my heart; I'm using it more as 'my love' Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum - Daily remembrance of those passed on (lit: "I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal") followed by the names of those remembered 

~~~

Lexie opened her eyes, blinking slowly a few times as she regained consciousness. A dull ache spread all over her body and her head felt like it was shrouded in a thick layer of fog. Blurry memories started to appear inside her mind: her Interceptor, the vulture droids and the chaos of plasma bolts, the alarms ringing inside of her cockpit, and the last thing she could remember was the familiar medic’s symbol on Kix’s armor.

She looked around her space with sluggish movements, trying to figure out where she was. She took note of the durasteel ceiling and the simple cot she was laying in and quickly realised she was in a medbay. The lights were dimmed, which meant she’d woken up during the night cycle and Lexie wondered how long she had been unconscious for. Through the Force, she sensed a comforting presence close to her and she turned her head to her right, her eyes landing on Rex. A smile tugged at her lips as she looked at him. The Captain was asleep, sat on a chair at the head of her bed, arms crossed and head leaning back against the wall.

Lexie slowly sat up, careful not to make too much noise, not wishing to disturb him. Her muscles ached as she got out of bed and her joints clicked so loudly, she was surprised the noise did not wake Rex up. She extended her left arm and inspected the damage and was pleased to see it wasn’t as bad as she expected. There was a big bacta patch on her shoulder that spread across her collarbone and towards her sternum, as well as quite a few smaller patches all the way down her arm. She brought her hand to her side, feeling another patch under the white tank top she was wearing. Her brows furrowed –  was this really all the damaged she’d suffered in that crash? How long was I out for?

Her eyes wondered back to Rex. If he was sleeping it meant that the battle was over, he would not allow himself to rest otherwise. But are we still above Seccaya or did we have to retreat? The question made her stomach twist. She needed to know, but she did not want to end his peaceful slumber. Lexie quietly slipped past the curtains that divided her cot from the rest of the medbay and looked around. There were a few troopers asleep in their cots, the ones that had gotten injured during the siege they’d fought in before coming to Seccaya. Her eyes searched for Kix, knowing very well he’d be in the medbay, and saw that the light in his office was on. She slowly walked towards it, every movement intensifying the pain in her body.

Her suspicion had been correct, Kix was sat behind his desk, engrossed in what she assumed was a report on his datapad. She softly tapped her knuckles on the durasteel doorframe, gaining his attention.

 “Lexie, what the hell are you doing out of bed?”, the medic asked as he saw her in the doorway, dropping his datapad and jumping out of his seat.

“The… the battle?”, she asked in a coarse voice, her throat feeling irritated, which was understandable considering the amount of smoke she’d inhaled.

“That really isn’t what you should concern yourself with right now!”, Kix scolded as he walked towards her, taking her arm and slowly guiding her to a chair in front of his desk.

“That’s my home, Kix. Is… is it safe?”, she pushed.

The medic shook his head with an exasperated sigh and started inspecting her left arm, taking it in his hands, lifting it up and down and bending it at the elbow. “Everything is fine. The Wolfpack destroyed two more frigates and the other two retreated. Planet’s secure for now”, he said as he did the check-up.

“Good”, she said, exhaling in relief. “And how long was I out for?”.

“A rotation and a half”, Kix answered. “We took you out of the bacta tank a couple of hours ago. Any pain in your arm?”.

“Hurts a bit, mainly-”, she stopped midsentence to clear her throat, “mainly under the patches, but nothing too bad”, she finished her reply.

“Good. It was broken in three different places you know? Glad to see the tank did its job”, Kix informed her. “Most of the burns seem to have healed. The third degree ones are taking a bit longer, that’s why you still have bacta patches on you. But you really need to rest”, he said sternly, letting go of her arm.

“A rotation in the tank wasn’t enough rest?”, she asked with a chuckle that morphed into a cough.

“No”, he replied unamused.

“You’re no fun when you’re in medic-mode”, she mumbled under her breath.

Kix shook his head with a slight chuckle. “Open up”, he instructed before he used a small flashlight to check her throat. He then got up and walked to the cabinet on the other side of the room, procuring a bacta spray which he used inside of it. The taste was bitter and unpleasant but the relief it provided was almost instant. Kix was about to use the flashlight to check Lexie’s eyes before their attention was caught by a loud voice coming from outside the medic’s office and both their heads turned towards the door.

“Kix, what happened? Where is she-”, Rex asked, voice full of urgency and concern. His expression softened as his eyes landed on Lexie, but he still seemed really worried. “Is she-is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine, vod, she was just asking for a sitrep”, Kix responded, resuming his examination of her pupils.

“I didn’t want to wake you”, Lexie added, trying to look at him, but she was stopped by the medic who turned her head back towards him, chiding her with a “sit still”.

Rex leaned in the doorframe and let out a shuddering breath. “I just… I woke up and you weren’t in bed and I worried that…”, he trailed off, shaking his head.

Lexie could sense Rex’s distress and a pang of guilt stirred within her. The last thing she had wanted was to scare him.

"Any dizziness, nausea?", Kix asked her as he flashed the light over her eyes.

"A little light-headedness", she replied to the medic. Once Kix was done with the check-up, she was able to find Rex's eyes again. “I’m sorry I worried you. I’m fine, I promise”, she tried to reassure him.

“Can you take her back to bed? She needs to rest”, the medic asked, walking around his desk and picking up the datapad he’d dropped earlier. “I’ll check the burns and change the bacta patches in the morning”.

“Please get some sleep too”, Lexie requested, noting the late time displayed by the chrono on his desk. Kix nodded and gave her a small smile. Lexie did not miss the way it faltered as he glanced at Rex, noticing how worried his brother still was. Kix met her eyes again, and seemed to want to say something, but instead, the medic slightly shook his head and sat back down in his chair.

Rex moved closer to Lexie, steady arms helping her get up from her seat. She allowed herself to lean on him as they slowly walked back to her cot. He was so gentle with her as he helped her sit down on the bed, it flooded her chest with warmth. He then pulled the curtains back, shielding the area from any prying eyes and turned to face her. Lexie felt her heart sink as she met his gaze. He was so distraught… so vulnerable, even more so than after Ponds had died.

“Come here”, she said softly.

Rex seemed to hesitate for a moment before walking to the cot and sitting down on her right. Lexie turned and hugged him, bringing his head to rest in the crook of her neck. However, Rex did not return the embrace.

“I won’t break, Rex”, she said, trying to appear light-hearted.

His left arm gently encircled her back and he inhaled deeply, taking in her sweet smell, mixed with the sharp odour of the bacta. The carefully controlled façade he’d been forcing himself to display for the past rotation finally cracked as his emotions overwhelmed him.

“I thought… I… I thought I was going to lose you”, he confessed, the words coming out in a choked whisper. The anguish in his voice was unmistakable.

Rex couldn’t fight the tears anymore. He abruptly pulled back from her embrace and turned his head away, quickly wiping his eyes with his hand. Lexie glimpsed the damp streak on his cheeks and realised that he was crying. She had never seen him cry before and knowing that she was the cause almost brought her to tears as well.

“Hey”, she uttered softly, taking his face in her hands and encouraging him to look at her. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s all okay now. I’m okay ner kar’ta”.

Rex let out a shuddering breath, a couple of tears slowly rolling down his face before Lexie wiped them away with her thumbs. This was quite unusual for him – he never allowed his emotions to manifest this way, especially not in front of another person – but the past rotation had been a living hell. Rex leaned forward, resting his forehead against Lexie’s. He closed his eyes and let her words sink in as she repeated that everything was okay. It would've felt weird, wrong even to cry like this in front of anyone else, but Rex found that it didn’t feel like that in front of her. In front of her, he felt safe being vulnerable, something that still surprised him, and yet he was immensely grateful for.

“Please don’t scare me like that again”, he whispered once the tears stopped, opening his eyes to look at her.

“I’ll do my best”, she promised, placing a chaste kiss to his lips and then to his forehead.

Rex tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and cupped her face, thumb gently tracing over her cheek. She was alive, she was alright, he finally felt like he could breathe again. His eyes were gazing into hers with an intensity that felt like bright sunshine, trying to convey everything he was feeling in that moment. He still had her, she was still his and he loved her so, so much. Rex never thought he would ever experience this kind of love, it wasn’t something he was ever taught about during his time on Kamino, nor something that any of them felt like they could even dream of. It was scary, really, how much he loved her, how much he felt he would do for her, for them. And he wanted to tell her that, he wanted to tell her that he loved her, the words were right on the tip of his tongue.

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

“Just how grateful I am that you’re alright”, he said, deciding quickly that it was too soon, and definitely not the right moment for anything else.

“I’m really sorry I worried you”, she whispered.

“It’s alright, cyare, everything is alright now”, he breathed, finally believing it.

They held each other a little longer, with Rex gently stroking her unravelled hair, before Lexie insisted that he return to his cabin so he could get some proper rest in his bed. Rex didn’t want to leave her, but he was exhausted. He would’ve loved to crawl into bed with her and hold her for longer, make sure that nothing would ever hurt her again, but he knew he would fall asleep and it was way too dangerous to be found like that in the morning.

As he walked back towards his cabin, his mind went over the events of the previous day and, truthfully, Rex wasn’t sure how he had managed to get through it. He’d gone back to the bridge after Lexie was placed in the bacta tank, he returned to his duty but she had constantly been at the back of his mind, the worry and anxiety weighing heavily on him. However, the most difficult part of the day was talking to Wolffe after the battle and the debrief was done. His ori’vod had watched him intently throughout the entire meeting and did not miss the strain in his voice as he provided Generals Skywalker and Plo Koon with the update on Lexie’s condition.

Rex had wanted to avoid him after the debrief, but Wolffe caught up with him and pulled him into an empty training room, insisting that they spar. Throughout the training session, the Commander didn't hold back and proceeded to give him a stern talking-to about how he needed to snap out of it and get over whatever feelings he had for General Khalla.

He knew his ori’vod meant well, but his words cut deep and Rex channelled the anger they caused into the punches he threw. A bitter realisation hit him – this simply was how it would always be. He couldn’t tell his brother the truth, Wolffe was one of the most loyal officers in the GAR, his commitment to the Republic to their role in it and the rules they had to follow was steadfast. He wasn’t sure if Wolffe would choose him over his duty. He didn’t blame him, of course. Rex used to be just like that at the beginning of the war, placing duty above everything else. But his time under General Skywalker and his relationship with Lexie had really changed him.

One thing he could always be grateful for when it came to Wolffe however, was that he did know how to help him. The sparring session was cathartic, Rex poured all his anxiety and anger into it and managed to win against his ori’vod in record time. Wolffe’s speech really got to him, just not in the way the Commander was hoping for – it made Rex realise he definitely needed to learn to hide his feelings better, for his sake, and for Lexie’s.

Lexie really hated the medbay. She hated the beds and the sharp smell of the bacta. She hated the lack of privacy and sensing the pain of the troopers around her. She hated the constant beeping noises and the med droids milling around. But most adamantly, she hated not being allowed to leave her bed.

Rex came over early in the day cycle, bringing her some proper clothes. She hadn’t even realised how scarcely dressed she was last night when she got out of bed and went into Kix’s office, wearing only the white sleeveless top and white boxer she had been dressed in before being put into the bacta tank. So, naturally, she asked the Captain to bring her a t-shirt and her comfy lounge pants before allowing anyone to see her.

It was still very informal, but she was glad she’d thought about it, as Anakin, Ahsoka and Master Plo came to check on her, brief her on the battle and inform her of the next steps. Anara would not budge on her request it seemed, agreeing to sign the treaty only after Lexie attended Myria’s wedding - wedding which had been postponed immediately after the Separatists attacked.

Both the Resolute and the Hand of Justice were to remain in orbit until that event would take place, and also until a detachment of clones and a light cruiser would arrive to take over safeguarding the planet. The Republic really did not want to lose the vast reserves of lommite found in the seccayan mountains.

Lexie was glad at the prospect of spending extra time on her home planet… if only Kix would discharge her from the medbay and allow her to return to the surface. But the medic would not relent. Lexie had stood up while talking to the other Jedi, determined not to appear weak – something that earned her a series of disapproving looks from Kix. The moment the others left, he strode up to her and ordered her back to bed. Rex was also lingering around, although he couldn’t do that for too long without raising suspicion. A few understanding looks were passed between her and the Captain before his comm beeped and he had to leave the medbay. He was reluctant to do so, and that was, unfortunately, obvious to his brother.

Kix pulled the curtains around the bed after the Captain was gone, and decided to check Lexie’s wounds. He had only just changed the bacta patches a couple hours before, so Lexie could tell there was another reason he was still there. And there was, but Kix was conflicted. He wanted to ask, his curiosity was burning to ask, to get confirmation, but there still was that small seed of doubt in the back of his mind that maybe they really were all exaggerating. And yet, Rex’s behaviour from the last rotations had been so telling, who would blame him for coming to that conclusion. Not that he’d only just come to that particular conclusion, but this just happened to be the last piece of the puzzle.

“Spit it out, trooper”, Lexie said with a chuckle, sensing his internal conflict.

Kix stared at her, mentally debating if he really should say anything. This really was the perfect opportunity to ask. He sighed as he made his decision and sat on the edge of her bed. “Okay, here’s the deal. I've never seen Rex this worried about anyone before, and Maker knows General Skywalker, Commander Tano and all of us have had our fair share of injuries-”.

“I’m sure that’s not-”, she tried to protest.

“Don’t”, he gave her a look that immediately silenced her. “He’s never been this worried before and you know it. And you also cannot be oblivious to it anymore”.

Lexie frowned in confusion as anxiety started stirring inside of her. She had an idea where the conversation was heading in and she really regretted pushing him to talk.

“I’m sure you didn’t know about his feelings at first, but you have to know now and it seems to me that, not only are you not shutting it down – you’re actually encouraging him”, Kix continued, his eyes scrutinizing every movement she made. Lexie started picking at the skin around her fingernails, her nervousness clearly visible. He waited for her to object to anything he’d just said but she made no attempt to do so.

“This makes me believe one of two things: you’re either cruel and you’re leading him on” – Lexie’s eyes snapped up to meet his and she recoiled at the words – “or you feel the same about him”. A long silence settled between the two of them as Lexie tried to think of what she could possibly reply. Before she had a chance to gather her thoughts however, Kix spoke again. “So, how long have you two been sleeping together?”.

Lexie blinked in disbelief a few times. She knew Kix was blunt, but it still took her by surprise. She opened her mouth to deny it, but closed it back the next second, painfully aware that the longer she was silent for, the more she was confirming everything to him. She looked his way again and saw the amused expression on his face. No point in lying anymore, I guess.

“Since Kaldonya”, she replied quietly.

The medic’s eyebrows lifted briefly and it seemed like he had not expected her to actually admitted it. “That recent?”, he finally exclaimed.

“What do you mean ‘that recent’?”, she asked, making a face.

“I saw how you reacted when he got shot on Saleucami. I really thought something happened between you two before that”, he replied before he let out a chuckle. “I guess Hardcase was right”.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“We have a little bet going on”, he explained, chuckling at the wide-eyed look on her face. “I said before Saleucami, Jesse said nothing happened yet but it might soon, but Hardcase said that something definitely happened on Kaldonya”.

Lexie made a face as she took it all in. She shouldn’t really be surprised, Hardcase was a lot more observant than anyone usually gave him credit for. She shook her head and let out a deep breath.

“That reminds me actually”, Kix piped up again, “both Echo and Fives kept insisting that you two wouldn’t act on your feelings, and while I expected that from Echo, it’s pretty suspicious coming from Fives. He’s also not teasing Rex as much about you anymore… I think he figured it out”.

“Well it wasn’t hard for him”, Lexie mumbled, “he saw Rex leaving my room on Kaldonya… also I’m pretty sure Echo knows too, or heavily suspects it anyway”.

The medic huffed out a ‘huh’ sound. “I'm actually impressed. Fives really did not say a word”, he stated.

“He knows what would happen if it got out”, Lexie spoke in a serious tone.

Kix immediately understood her meaning and his face turned as serious as hers. “You know you don't have to worry about me, right vod'ika?”, he asked.

A smile tugged at her lips and she let out a small chuckle. He’d never called that before. “Thank you, ori’vod”, she said with a bright smile. Kix shook his head and huffed a small laugh. “Did you ever imagine after Erosh-4 that you’d end up calling me that?”, Lexie asked, a little guilt in her laugh that did not go unnoticed.

“You’ve more than made up for that mistake. Plus, I couldn’t let Echo be the only one who gets to use it”, he replied, meeting her eyes. “Get some more rest”, he then ordered as he sat up from the bed.

“More? Kix, come on”, she tried to protest.

“I don’t want to hear it vod’ika”, he told her with a pointed look, before walking towards the next patient and leaving the curtains open so that he’d be able to keep an eye on her. She was a flight risk and he knew it.

Lexie slumped back on the bed. She was so bored.

Luckily her boredom didn’t last for too long, as Fives, Echo, Hardcase and Jesse came by to check on her.

“Told you she’d make it”, Fives announced loudly as he stepped into the medbay, earning an annoyed look from Kix and the other medics. Lexie could not supress the smile forming on her face.

“Vod, come on, keep it down”, Kix groaned, pausing the exam he was performing on one of his brothers to gesture to the other troopers laid on the beds.

“Sorry”, Fives said in a loud whisper as he and the others walked towards the cot Lexie was sat cross-legged on.

“How are you feeling vod’ika?”, Echo asked, sitting down on the chair by her bed.

“Not too bad”, she answered with a shrug.

“You had us all worried for a moment”, Jesse said, coming to stand next to Fives, who had sat down at the foot of the bed.

“Wasn’t my intention. Sorry, boys”, she apologised with a chuckle. 

“At least now we know why they don’t send her flying more often”, Hardcase joked.

“Hey!”, Lexie protested, shifting to her knees and placing a hand on Echo’s shoulder for support as she leaned over and tried to playfully slap Hardcase on the arm. The trooper took a step away from her reach and lifted his hands in surrender. Lexie settled back on the bed, laughing. It felt so good to have her friends there. “I’ll have you know that I’m a great pilot. Just got unlucky this time”.

“Unlucky is one word for it. Have you seen the state your fighter?”, Jesse laughed.

“Osik! I forgot about R6. Did he make it?”, she asked.

“Ugh, sorry vod’ika, that droid is toast”, Echo answered.

“Ohh… that’s too bad. I liked him”, she said with a small pout.

“What was that thing about Jedi not forming attachments?”, Fives teased.

“Oh, shut it. I am accepting his loss, just stating that it’s a shame”, Lexie declared, giving the ARC trooper a look. “All good and proper”.

Fives bit back the snarky comment he wanted to make but did flash her a knowing grin. Lexie could easily imagine what was going on in his head anyway. She changed the subject and the five of them talked for a bit more, before a few of their comms started beeping.

 “Right, we need to leave. Running drills against the 104th”, Echo informed her as he stood up.

“Against?”, she repeated a little confused.

“Us versus them scenarios, seeing which teams has the best times during simulations, that kind of thing”, Jesse explained.

“Huh… good luck. But wait, before you leave, I need one of you to distract Kix for a minute”, she said in a hushed voice.

“Why?”, Hadcase asked, louder than she would’ve wanted, prompting her to signal him to keep it down.

“I need to get away. I cannot stand being in here a second longer”, she explained.

Jesse snorted a laugh. “And have him be pissed off with us cause we helped you run? No way, Lex, sorry”.

“Yeah, that’s a no”, Echo echoed once her gaze turned to him.

“Come on guys”, she exclaimed after she received a negative shake of the head from Hardcase as well. “Fives, honey, you’ll help me, right?”, she said sweetly, meeting his eyes.

“Help you with what?”, Kix asked, appearing next to Jesse and giving her and the ARC a pointed look.

Jedi-like senses this man, I swear. “Just… asked if he could bring me my datapad… to start my reports”, she said the first thing that came to her mind.

“Mhm”, Kix hummed disapprovingly. “Don’t you all have somewhere to be?”.

“Yes we do. Bye Lex”, Fives said as they all started heading to the door. Right before he walked out the medbay, he turned and mouthed ‘sorry’.

“I’m watching you”, Kix warned, making her roll her eyes.

With nothing to do but glare at Kix from time to time, Lexie decided to do a Force exercise she had not done in a while. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on every Force signature present around her, one by one. Her mind then wondered past the medbay, trying to test how far she could reach. She was searching for Rex or any of her friends and she did manage to locate them in the part of the cruiser she knew the training rooms were. She could sense the mood shifts, the adrenaline spikes and concentration as they ran the drills. She wondered briefly what formations they were going over and then chuckled to herself as she focused on Rex again and sensed his growing irritation. The boys must not be performing up to standards.

Lexie had to stop as she felt a sharp headache forming behind her eyes at the overexertion. Focusing on life signatures so far away was always taking too much out of her. She tried to empty her mind and, before she knew it, she actually drifted off to sleep. It didn’t last long, only a couple of hours, but she did wake up with a jolt from the dream she was having. Well, not a dream, a memory actually, of crashing into the hangar. It seemed it would he haunting her for a while.

She sat up, looking around her in the medbay. One trooper with his arm in a sling was sat on another man’s bed, the two of them were playing Sabacc. The one still laid in bed had half his face covered by bandages, and she remembered Kix saying earlier that the wound would probably leave a significant scar. She could even remember the moment he was injured, a clone from the 212th had stepped on a mine and he was the only one caught in the blast who survived. A cold shiver ran down her spine.

Boredom and uneasiness were beginning to take hold of her mind again so she returned to the mental exercise she performed earlier, focusing on the Force signatures around her, but not venturing too far. After a while of doing this, she sensed three life signatures approaching the medbay and needed a moment to place them. It was her pilots from Indigo Squadron, she realised, and she sat up on the bed, opening her eyes to look at the door just as it slid open.

First to walk in was Hawk, easily recognisable by the red wings tattooed on his temples, matching the ones on his helmet. He was followed by Ibis, who was one of the few pilots she’d seen to keep an unaltered appearance; his armor however had one of the best designs in the battalion, in her opinion, with an aiwha drawn on his chestplate. The last in was Heron, who had a shorter than standard haircut with the sides completely shaven, and the words ‘Defend from above’ written in Aurebesh on the left temporal region of his head. He seemed different though, uneasy, a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanour.

“Sir”, Hawk saluted as they reached her bed, action mirrored by the other two clones.

“Boys, this is a nice surprise”, she responded warmly.

“It’s good to see you’ve recovered, General”, Ibis said. “That was a really nasty crash”.

“Believe it or not, it wasn’t my worst”, she joked. The men chuckled, except for Heron. She could sense shame around him and she furrowed her brows in confusion. “Heron, are you okay?”, she asked.

“I… I’m here to apologise, Sir. I failed to have your back”, he answered solemnly, meeting her eyes.

“What? No, Heron, you didn’t”, she said.

“No, Sir I-”.

“Heron, listen to me”, she interrupted. “You were there, you tried, and honestly I think my fighter was already damaged from the frigate explosion. This isn’t your fault. You actually got those vultures before they managed to blow me up while still in space. Now that I would not have been able to survive”.

Heron opened his mouth in an attempt to protest, before being nudged in the side with an elbow by Hawk. “Don’t argue with the General, vod”, he said, making Lexie chuckle.

“I do not want you losing any sleep over this, am I understood?”, she added.

Heron caught her eyes again and simply nodded.

“Good. Now, on to more serious business… How many did we lose?”, she asked hesitantly.

“We lost Indigo Te-”, Ibis started.

“Wait”, she stopped him in a gentle voice. “Names please, Ibis”.

“We lost Dipper and Crake from group two and Roller from-”.

“Roller is dead?”, Lexie asked

“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry”, Ibis replied.

Lexie closed her eyes, feeling the regret stir within her. She had played holo-darts in the break room with Roller just the other night, before leaving for Seccaya, and she found him to be really funny and full of life. She would never get to know him better now and that stung.

“How did the… the traditional saying go? Ni kyr’adyc gar…?”, she asked. She had heard Rex use it on a few occasions, but the words were still mixed up in her head.

 “Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum”, Heron said, looking a little surprised that she knew about it.

“Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum Roller, Crake, Dipper”, she repeated, adding the names of her fallen pilots.

“Thank you, General”, Ibis said.

“So”, Lexie said after a moment of silence, “how did the rest of the battle go?”.

As the men started recounting the events that transpired after her crash, Lexie watched Kix from the corner of her eye, noticing how he approached the new medic, gave him some instructions then left the medbay with a few of the other medics. She looked towards the chrono on the wall and noticed it was around lunch time. Perfect.

“Could you guys help me with something?”, she said after Ibis finished speaking about the battle.

“Sure thing, General”, Hawk replied. “What do you need?”.

“Could either of you keep the medic distracted for a minute. I need to get out of this medbay”, she asked.

Ibis and Hawk shared a confused look but Heron chuckled. “I’ll do it, Sir”, he offered.

Rex was not satisfied with the way his men performed during the drills. In truth, there was nothing wrong with their formation, and their times had been really good, but they had lost a couple of the battle sims against the Wolfpack. It was easily explained, the teams with the worse performances were the one that the new troopers had been placed into, the ones that were sent to replenish the 501st forces before they left for Seccaya, since their latest campaign had dwindled their numbers. They were good soldiers, but they were young and not used to fighting with the rest of the battalion. The Captain would’ve usually been more understanding, if only his ori’vod wasn’t present to tease him about the defeat.

“Lighten up Rex’ika, maybe next time you can beat my men”, Wolffe slapped him on the back as he left the battle sim room.

Rex was pissed off and that was very clear in the way he lectured his troopers. As they all left, heading for the showers or for the mess hall, Fives stayed behind, arms crossed and gaze fixed on Rex.

“That was a bit harsh, don’t you think?”, the ARC trooper noted.

“Their performance was below the 501st standards”, the Captain answered dryly.

“Their performance was fine and you know it. There were a few deviations from formation made by the shinnies, which can be easily corrected”, Fives did not back down. “What’s this really about?”.

Rex gave him a look, silently pleading with him to drop it, before turning and leaving the battle sim room. Fives, as stubborn as ever, had no intention of letting it go, not after watching his ori’vod struggle for the entire past rotation. No, Fives was determined to find a way to help him.

“If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine, I’ll just assume it’s about that sentiment you shared in the fresher”, he stated. Rex turned his head and looked at him with narrowed eyes, but did not deny it. “What else do you think you could’ve done, vod? You’re no medic”.

“I don’t know”, Rex finally responded, albeit very irritated, “but just sitting around waiting… I hated feeling so useless… and even now, she’s still in the medbay and hates it, I know she does. But I can’t do anything, I can’t stay with her for too long… so I’m just back to feeling like that”.

Fives grinned, finally knowing how to help his brother. “Come with me, I know something you can do for her that she’ll really appreciate”, he said, walking towards the mess hall.

Rex frowned in confusion but followed after Fives. He was trying to understand how bringing her bland food from the mess would help, when, to his surprise, the ARC trooper made a beeline for a table at the centre and stopped behind one of the new recruits – the trooper with a teardrop tattooed under his right eye, and long hair tied in a bun. The clone looked up, then immediately jumped to his feet, turning to face his superiors, a little nervous at the prospect of getting another stern talking to from the Captain.

“Sirs”, he saluted.

“At ease, shiny. The Captain and I need your help with something”, Fives chuckled. “Come with us”.

Rex gave his brother a confused look but followed him out of the mess, the shiny trailing nervously behind them. Fives didn’t stop until he reached the door to Rex’s office and moved to the side so that the Captain could input his code and step inside.

Once in, Fives turned to the shiny. “Untie your hair”, he ordered.

“Sir?”, the clone asked uncertainly, believing he must have misheard him.

“Fives, what are you doing?”, Rex asked just as confused.

“Do you know how to braid hair?”, the ARC asked him.

“Do I… what? No”, Rex replied, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers as he realised what his vod’ika was trying to do.

“Well you’re in luck. I know and I’m gonna teach you”, he said before turning back to the shiny. “Hair. Untied. Now”.

The trooper reached a hand back and followed the order. Fives then spun him around and parted his hair into three sections.

“So what you do is you take this left bit-”, he started before looking over at Rex. “Come closer to see what I’m doing”.

The Captain sighed as he glanced up at the ceiling for a moment, before getting closer to his brother. As strange as this whole situation felt, he did actually want to learn. Lexie’s hair was still untied, the tightly wrapped bacta patches on her arm and left hand making it a little difficult for her to reach back and gather it in the typical braid she usually wore. This was something he could do for her, a way to be useful.

“So you take this left bit, cross it over the middle section, then you bring the right section over that”, Fives started explaining while his fingers formed the braid.

As Lexie rounded the corner towards the turbolifts, she realised that maybe Kix did know what he was saying when he insisted that she stay in bed and rest. Her body felt off, her movements were still sluggish and, after she stepped on the lift, she immediately leaned against the wall, giving her aching muscles a break. Bacta was not a magical ‘heal everything instantly’ remedy after all.

“Vod’ika, what are you doing?”, Echo called after her, seeing her getting off the lift on the command level.

“Just wanted to stretch my legs”, she replied turning to face him.

“Does Kix know you’re stretching your legs”, Echo asked, arching a brow.

“Kix doesn’t need to know everything I do”, she scoffed. “Besides I need to speak to the Captain about something and I think he’s in his office”.

“And it couldn’t wait?”, he pressed, earning a look from her. Echo shook his head with a chuckle and she was certain she heard “atin Jetti” mumbled under his breath. “I’ll walk with you there. Looks like you could use a hand”.

Lexie opened her mouth to protest but decided against it. Instead, she hooked her right arm around the elbow he offered her for support and she walked the long corridor slightly leaning on him when she felt her body growing too heavy. She’d been insisting to Rex all morning that she was perfectly fine, and she really hated admitting to be wrong, so as soon as they were only a few steps away from the door, she let go of Echo’s arm, and walked the remaining distance without assistance.

The door of the office opened with a mechanic hiss, revealing a curious scene inside. She caught Rex’s eyes first. He was leaned on his desk, arms crossed and brows furrowed in concentration, but the moment the door slid open, he looked towards it and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks as they made eye-contact. Next her eyes moved to Fives, who was stood in front of the Captain, braiding the hair of a trooper she didn’t know. She then looked at him and had to stifle a laugh when seeing his awkwardly rigid posture paired with a very confused look on his face. Echo stopped right behind her, tilting his head slightly to one side.

“What are you doing to that poor shiny?”, she asked, no longer able to hold the laughter in.

“Lexie, what are you doing here?”, Rex exclaimed as he pushed away from the desk and walked towards her, arms slightly extended in front of him as if he expected her to drop at any second.

“I’m not gonna fall, Rex”, she scoffed.

“Did Kix discharge you already?”, he asked in a doubtful voice.

“Uhm, not exactly”, she admitted, earning a stern look from the Captain. “You now I hate the medbay, I just-I wanted a break from all that. I’ll go back don’t worry. Not like I’ll have much choice once Kix realises I left anyway”.

“How did you even get past him?”, Fives asked with a chuckle, letting go of the other clone’s hair.

“He went to the mess and left that new medic alone in the medbay. Got Heron to distract him”, she explained, taking a few steps towards the shiny who was now stood at attention. “No, but really, what are you doing?”, she repeated.

“I was using him to teach Rex something. What? Besides you, he has the longest hair in the battalion”, Fives shrugged at the look he received from her.

Lexie stopped in front of the shiny, regarding him with a mixture of pity and amusement. “At ease trooper. What’s your name?”.

“Tup, Sir”, he responded, his face stern and tone of voice professional.

“Tup, I'm really sorry, I think it's my fault they’re using you as their lab rat”, she chuckled.

“I don’t mind Sir. I’m happy to help”, he replied.

“Shinnies – you gotta love their eagerness”, Fives said, swinging an arm around the clone’s shoulders, causing his eyes to briefly widen in surprise.

Lexie shook her head with a laugh. “Thank you for helping them. You can go now”.

The shiny saluted her, put his hair back up in a bun, then left the room after offering respectful nods to Rex and the two ARCs. As soon as the door was closed, Echo burst out laughing, causing Lexie to do the same.

“The look on his face”, Echo manages to say between snickering.

“Is that one of the new men we’ve just received?”, Lexie asked, getting an affirmative response from Rex. “Bet he’s really happy he ended up in this battalion”, she added.

“Well, you heard him, he was happy to help”, Fives chimed in with a chuckle.

Lexie shook her head again and leaned on the desk next to Rex. She felt so relieved to see he was also quietly laughing along with them, the worry that was etched into his sharp features finally alleviated. She leaned into his side and looked up at his eyes, smiling brightly at the fondness she found gazing back at her. Their small moment of affection was unfortunately interrupted by the beeping of Echo’s wrist comm and her head snapped in the direction of the ARC trooper.

“Echo, come in”, Kix’s voice sounded.

“Yes vod?”, Echo replied.

“Do you have eyes on that damn Jetti? She kriffing disappeared and she should absolutely not be on her feet”, the medic said in an exasperated voice.

Rex gave Lexie a pointed look. “Let’s go”, he simply said.

“Rex is bringing her back now”, Echo chuckled into his comm.

Rex dropped her off in the medbay, having to leave her to face Kix’s stern lecture by herself – and it was not pretty, Kix was truly pissed he’d had his meal interrupted by a frantic comm from the new medic once he realised she disappeared from her bed. He did return as soon as his duties allowed it and, in the somewhat privacy of the pulled curtains around her bed, Rex braided her blue hair, then held her tightly in his arms for as long as he could.

~~~

Taglist: @selene131 , @yoursrosie If anyone else wants to be tagged in future chapters le me know

[intrepidacious]

ok bestie... James Norrington + shipwrecked !!

tempest | j.n.

a/n: last one for tonight i'm afraid!! life has been kind of busy and i've not been writing as much as i'd like to but i hope i can bring u more drabbles next week 💛

James Norrington wasn’t unfamiliar with the feeling of being adrift at sea; after all, he’d survived his first brush with the watery depths when he was just a boy, had learned early to cling to life with all his might and pray to any god that might listen that the reddish light he was desperately trying to swim toward was cast by the sinking sun and not the fires of hell. He’d lived, of course, but barely, and he’d never been forgiven for that.

When he joined the army, it seemed a streak of bad luck was following him wherever he went, tiptoeing right behind him and cursing every ship he’d set foot on; the Interceptor, the Dauntless, even the Pearl, all lost to the ocean, irrevocably sunk and gone forever.

It was a lot, he thought, like falling in love with you.

Maybe that was just like him; a man that ignored the dark storm clouds ahead was bound to get caught in disaster, and you were most certainly a fore of nature. It seemed inevitable that you’d be the reason he’d willingly crash and burn all over again, shipwrecked beyond repair at last; loving you was a dangerous thing and yet he didn’t have a choice in the matter.

If there was ever a storm he’d gladly give his life for, let it be this feeling; he’d still pick you over safe harbour a thousand times.