#battle of cable street

[the-quackeroos]

"Oh? If you're revo-thingummy, perhaps you can try to march down to Cable Street while I head back to Paddington."

I decided to make Diesel a knife-wielding fascist thug who lost in the Battle of Cable Street. so here, we have Duck not admiring Diesel's boasts.

[radicalgraff]

Huge mural in East London commemorating the 'Battle of Cable Street'.

The street battle on October 4, 1936 took place as a result of opposition to a march by the British Union of Fascists led by Oswald Mosley. Anti-fascist protesters, including local Jewish, anarchist, Irish and communist groups, clashed with the Metropolitan Police, who attempted to remove the barricades erected to stop the march.

[tenth-sentence]

Local people acting in spontaneous self-defence, blocked the proposed route and fought hand-to-hand with the police who attempted to clear the way for the fascist parade.

"Normal Women: 900 Years of Making History" - Philippa Gregory

[david-sankey]

Beattie Orwell, veteran of the Battle of Cable Street, dies at 105yrs old

From https://spitalfieldslife.com/2023/06/26/so-long-beattie-orwell/  

“””Beattie Orwell died last Thursday at the fine age of one hundred and five

Portrait of Beattie Orwell by Phil Maxwell

It was my delight to accompany photographer Phil Maxwell to visit one hundred and five year old Beattie Orwell and sit beside her in her cosy flat while she talked to me of her century of existence in this particular corner of the East End.

A magnanimous woman who delighted in the modest joys of life, Beattie was nevertheless a political animal who is proud to be one of the last living veterans of the Battle of Cable St – a formative experience that inspired her with a fiercely egalitarian sense of justice and led to her becoming a councillor in later life, acutely conscious of the rights of the most vulnerable in society.

In spite of her physical frailty, Beattie’s moral courage granted her an astonishing monumental presence as a human being. To speak with Beattie was to encounter another, kinder world.

“I am Jewish and both my parents were East Enders, born here... ...I was nineteen in 1936. I was there with all the crowds at the Battle of Cable St. I am Jewish and I knew we must fight the fascists. They were anti-semitic, so I felt I had to do it. I was not frightened because there were so many people there. If I was on my own I might have been frightened, but I never saw so many people. You could not imagine. Dockers, Scottish and Irish people were there. It was a marvellous atmosphere. I was standing on the corner of Leman St outside a shop called ‘Critts’ and everyone was shouting ‘ They shall not pass!’....”

From Cable Street to Brick Lane - 74 min - 2012 from Hazuan Hashim and Phil Maxwell on Vimeo.

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by Brendan O'Neill

Every now and then you see an event and you think to yourself: ‘This will go down in history.’ Last night’s revolt of the Jews of London against a ‘pro-Palestine’ mob is one such event.

Jews and their allies gathered at the Phoenix Cinema in East Finchley to defend its showing of a film about Hamas’s fascistic massacre at the Nova music festival on 7 October. Unbelievably – or not, perhaps – the ‘Palestine solidarity’ set wanted the screening to be cancelled. No way, said the Jewish rebels, loudly and proudly, many of them draped in the Israeli flag. It was truly stirring stuff, a bold act of people’s defiance against cancel culture and the slow, lethal creep of a new anti-Semitism.

Let’s call it The Battle of Phoenix Cinema. On one side there was a motley crew of Palestine flag-wavers, curiously irate that a cinema was showing a film about the evils of Hamas. And on the other side a boisterous gathering of Jews and their supporters. Two thousand of them. ‘I’m still standing’ by Elton John blasted from a loudspeaker. Many young Jews were there, some clearly angry, pushed to their limit by the ceaseless demonisation of the Jewish State and the left’s shameful lack of solidarity with the Jewish community as it has come under attack these past seven months. These people really have had enough.

Some of the younger Jews chanted ‘Terrorists supporters off our streets’. It felt like a brilliant modern twist on the slogan of The Battle of Cable Street in 1936 – ‘They shall not pass’. Back then, Jews and their working-class allies gathered in East London to see off Oswald Mosley’s fascists. Yesterday they gathered to see off that mob that obsessively hates Israel and which seems hell-bent on hiding the truth about Hamas’s fascist-like crimes. You shall not pass, the protesters were essentially saying, as they protected a cinema from the McCarthyite rage of the Israelophobes.

The Phoenix Cinema’s ‘crime’ is that it agreed to host the Seret film festival, a festival of Israeli cinema that is supported by Israel’s culture ministry. This is a mortal sin in the eyes of anti-Israel activists who boycott everything that emanates from Israel; who seem to believe that moral cleanliness entails exorcising every Israeli film, foodstuff, product and even person from your life and your community.

Ken Loach and Mike Leigh resigned in a huff as patrons of the Phoenix in response to its hosting of Seret. Loach, of course, gets funding for his films from the British Film Institute, which itself is government-funded and distributes lottery cash. So he’s happy to get cash from an organisation backed by a government that waged catastrophic wars in Iraq, Afghanistan and Libya but he’ll run a mile from a cinema showing films backed by the Israeli government? Make it make sense, Ken.

[agarthanguide]

On Sunday, the 4th of October, 1936, The British Union of Fascists lead by Oswald Mosley marched through the East End of London, then the home of the large majority of London's Jewish Population. The Met Police, expecting violence, escorted the 3,000 fascists with over 6,000 policemen, many of them mounted on horseback, as well as multiple vans and a spotter plane.

The largely working class locals of the East End took issue with this, and the counter-protestors (mostly anti-fascists, socialists, communists, trade unionists, and Jews, as well as locals of all stripes) overwhelmed the fascists and policemen by 10-to-1, fielding over 100,000 people (this is a conservative number).

The fascists marched in four columns, and all of them met resistance, but the majority of the action took place on Cable Street, a narrow road that the counter-protestors barricaded at multiple points.

The resulting fray went down in history as the Battle of Cable Street, and it's been the setting of lots of great storytelling since.

Notable in most stories of the Battle of Cable Street is the use of the slogan "They Shall Not Pass," or "No Pasaran," which remain anti-fascist rallying cries to this day.

[xserpx]

Then all us young lads, we were sent to the side streets

To stop the police breaking through

And with swift hands we made strong barricades

Out of anything we could use

And they came to charge us, but they couldn’t barge us

With fists, batons, and hooves

With as good as we got, we withstood the lot

For we would not be moved

We would not be moved

Told through the words of 16 year-old Stockton-born Johnny Longstaff who was one of an estimated 100,000 people who defied the police to stand in solidarity with the Jewish people of London’s East End, blocking the route of a British Union of Fascists march on October 4, 1936.

[definitely-ellie]

Celebrating the Anniversary of ‘The Battle of Cable Street’ 1936, when the people of London said “They Shall Not Pass” to the British Union of Fascists.

Images Source

Additional Reading:

Jewish Museum

Irish Times

East End Women’s Museum

[exigencelost]

i hope brennan lee mulligan gets cyberbullied just a little for having never heard the phrase no pasarán

[gwydionmisha]

The London History Show: The Battle Of Cable Street

[jewreallythinkthat]

You know what's super cool and not at all fucked up:

Tracy-Ann Oberman is starring as Shylock in a reinvented Merchant of Venice, set during the Battle of Cable Street (when 3000 of the British Union of Fascists marched to the Jewish part of London and were repelled when the Irish, communists, socialists, various anti fascist groups came out and supported the Jews against this).

The irony of a woman starring in a play about defeating antisemitism and fascism being told not to go outside because of a danger of antisemitic attack should not be lost on anyone...

[the-quackeroos]

so, as much as I imagine Pop Goes the Diesel taking place during the Battle of Cable Street, the other two stories in the Duck vs Diesel saga still take place at that time when Duck worked at Paddington. that's why Duck appears a bit younger in this comic based on A Close Shave. ^^

[linguisticdiscovery]

Ways English borrowed words from Latin

Latin has been influencing English since before English existed!

Here’s a non-exhaustive list of ways that English got vocabulary from Latin:

early Latin influence on the Germanic tribes: The Germanic tribes borrowed words from the Romans while still in continental Europe, before coming to England.

camp, wall, pit, street, mile, cheap, mint, wine, cheese, pillow, cup, linen, line, pepper, butter, onion, chalk, copper, dragon, peacock, pipe, bishop

Roman occupation of England: The Celts borrowed words from the Romans when the Romans invaded England, and the Anglo-Saxons later borrowed those Latin words from the Celts.

port, tower, -chester / -caster / -cester (place name suffix), mount

Christianization of the Anglo-Saxons: Roman missionaries to England converted the Anglo-Saxons to Christianity and brought Latin with them.

altar, angel, anthem, candle, disciple, litany, martyr, mass, noon, nun, offer, organ, palm, relic, rule, shrine, temple, tunic, cap, sock, purple, chest, mat, sack, school, master, fever, circle, talent

Norman Conquest: The Norman French invaded England in 1066 under William the Conqueror, making Norman French the language of the state. Many words were borrowed from French, which had evolved out of Latin.

noble, servant, messenger, feast, story, government, state, empire, royal, authority, tyrant, court, council, parliament, assembly, record, tax, subject, public, liberty, office, warden, peer, sir, madam, mistress, slave, religion, confession, prayer, lesson, novice, creator, saint, miracle, faith, temptation, charity, pity, obedience, justice, equity, judgment, plea, bill, panel, evidence, proof, sentence, award, fine, prison, punishment, plead, blame, arrest, judge, banish, property, arson, heir, defense, army, navy, peace, enemy, battle, combat, banner, havoc, fashion, robe, button, boots, luxury, blue, brown, jewel, crystal, taste, toast, cream, sugar, salad, lettuce, herb, mustard, cinnamon, nutmeg, roast, boil, stew, fry, curtain, couch, screen, lamp, blanket, dance, music, labor, fool, sculpture, beauty, color, image, tone, poet, romance, title, story, pen, chapter, medicine, pain, stomach, plague, poison

The Renaissance: The intense focus on writings from classical antiquity during the Renaissance led to the borrowing of numerous words directly from Latin.

atmosphere, disability, halo, agile, appropriate, expensive, external, habitual, impersonal, adapt, alienate, benefit, consolidate, disregard, erupt, exist, extinguish, harass, meditate

The Scientific Revolution: The need for new technical and scientific terms led to many neoclassical compounds formed from Classical Greek and Latin elements, or new uses of Latin prefixes.

automobile, transcontinental, transformer, prehistoric, preview, prequel, subtitle, deflate, component, data, experiment, formula, nucleus, ratio, structure

Not to mention most borrowings from other Romance languages, such as Spanish or Italian, which also evolved from Latin.

Further Reading: A history of the English language (Baugh & Cable)

[voylitscope]

CA: TWS Anniversary Ficlets (Day 2)

Daily ficlets for the CA: TWS 10th Anniversary Event @catws-anniversary. With Huge thanks to @sparkagrace and @cable-knit-sweater for running this wonderful event! 💞

Two | March 27th | Theme: Steve Rogers | Prompt: Guilt | Words: 300 | Canon compliant | Not Rated | No Warnings

When they were kids, Steve's Ma used to say that the two of them had a way of always following each other into nearly everything. She'd meant it about the messes and scrapes they'd often ended up in back then — the things that had them coming home covered in dust and dirt and that had earned them fond headshakes.

Back then, Steve hadn't given her comments that much thought, but when he did stop to think about it — he'd normally figured that it wasn't right. He'd usually been pretty sure that it was just that they were always together. And nobody could follow anybody if they were already in the same place, right?

But the words are back in Steve's now head. And he thinks this Ma was right, and that it's been true all along — that they do always seem to follow each other.

Steve thinks he sees it now.

Because:

Hadn't Bucky left for the war, and hadn't Steve followed?

Hadn't Bucky told Steve he was staying to follow him into battle?

Hadn't Bucky fallen off that rian, and hadn't Steve —

Hadn't Steve crashed that plane?

And.

Hadn't Steve woken up, alive, in the 21st century?

Not dead. An impossible thing.

And hadn't Steve seen Bucky, just hours ago, alive in the 21st century?

Not dead. An impossible thing.

So, hadn't they somehow followed each other even in that?

Haven't they managed to follow each other their whole lives?

And, then, if all that's true — Should they have stopped? Should Steve have made it stop? Before Bucky fell. Before Bucky looked right through Steve on a DC street. Before all those decades in between that Steve can't begin to imagine. Before —

Should he have made it stop?

Could he have?

(Is it still happening?

What happens next time?)

🎆 One | March 26th | Theme: On your left | Prompt: The Smithsonian | Words: 250 | Canon compliant | No warnings | Not Rated |

(Ficlets Tumblr-exclusive until all are complete.)

[catgirlredux]

Technosymbiosis

Here's another mech story, inspired by/a continuation of this one:

I was the only one to figure it out. None of the others ever bothered to pay attention; between the natural casualties of war and the constant switching out of pilots, it didn’t make much sense to get too involved in each other’s lives. But something about Pilot Grieg, fellow member of Hoplite division V, captured my attention from the moment I saw her. While most of the other pilots were either frightened or overconfident on their first day (I nearly pissed myself from the anxiety), I could see nothing in her eyes but a fierce, powerful hunger. She stepped into the cockpit of her Hoplite and didn’t even flinch when the nanofilament harness closed around her chest.

I was entranced by her piloting skills and her determined, nearly emotionless behavior. All pilots tended to be a little cold, rumor had it that recruitment intentionally selected soldiers who scored lower on the EDEs due to the nature of some of our missions; but she was something else. Her face never changed outside of that cockpit, and she walked around with an ungainly clumsy stride, her gait resembling that of a much larger being. But when the mesh closed around her and the interface cable plugged into her neck, I swear her eyes sparkled brighter than ever and she sometimes even smiled. In the midst of battle, among dozens of rookie pilots disoriented and frightened by the steady flow of their mechs' peripheral data, Grieg maneuvered the battlefield more capably and calmly than anyone else. She was like the eye in a hurricane of titanium and lasers. She seemed to take to piloting so naturally.

It was a bit of an obsession for me. I never wanted to join the army, but at my family's civvie status it was either that, or spend the rest of my life working the same scrap hauls as my father and his father before him. I'm not sure I made the right choice: piloting was a lonely job, and our orders were always changing. The war had been going on since before I was even born and now that I was a part of it, I felt like it wasn't going to end anytime soon. I didn't even have anyone to confide in: between missions, I knew no one and no one bothered to know me. Still, a good soldier follows orders, so I took solace in what little consistency I had. Every time I suited up I kept an eye out for Grieg, hoping that we would get deployed together - that I would get another chance to study her.

That's why it didn't take me long to figure out - she was always there. Pilots were supposed to take regular breaks from duty to avoid excessive neurolink buildup, and these breaks were usually staggered within a division. I rarely flew out with the same Hoplite squad two weeks in a row. Yet every time I got ready for a patrol, I caught sight of Grieg skulking around the locker room already prepped. She usually looked like she hadn’t slept in days but she hopped into her suit with an eagerness unlike any other soldier in our division.

I really have no clue how nobody else caught on. I mean, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out: her constant presence, her aggressive combat tactics, her clear exhaustion versus her eagerness to pilot - Grieg was addicted to battle. Or something like that. I wasn’t sure whether it was the speed, or the action, or something else entirely. Maybe it had something to do with the depressant α-IVs - after my first time in the cockpit I spent a week throwing up. Maybe they did something weird to make her dependent on the mech?

Not that any of that mattered. Somehow she had managed to fuck with our shifts so that she was always on duty, strapped to a giant death machine. Her link was probably through the roof - god only knew how close she might be to terminus. I still remember the video they had showed us in training. A squad of pilots traveling in formation, when suddenly one of them lets out a bellowing screech and starts flailing around. The other units immediately try to suppress it but it fights like a beast, blasting and tearing at all who come near until finally it’s taken out with a TAC-beam to the core. It was terrifying - a team of twenty-one pilots reduced to just four, all because of a single terminus incident. The video ended on a close-up of the rogue pilot, emaciated limbs pinned down with thick nanomass cables, fluid flooding his throat and rivulets of blood trailing down wires that burrowed straight into his eyes. Pilots were taken off of active duty for a reason.

I decided to confront Grieg about it. I probably should have reported her to the division leader but something stopped me - curiosity perhaps. I had to know.

I stopped her in the locker room before a patrol.

“I know what you’ve been doing.”

She looked fucking exhausted. Her eyes were even more sunken in than when I first saw her, her lips were cracked and her hair was an oily mess. She smelled strongly of sweat mixed with the metallic sweetness of vitrofluid. Jesus christ, did she sleep in her mech? But her eyes still shone with that hungry anticipation, and she fucking smirked at me.

“I thought you’d catch on. I know you’ve been watching me. She told me.” Her voice sounded harsh, throat scraped up from constant alternation between air and vitro.

“She? She who?”

Grieg reached up and brushed a hand against my face. She wasn’t wearing the fingerless gloves that came standard with our uniforms. “How high is your link?” Her touch was cold. She had a look on her face like she was trying to read my mind.

“43.7. Well within safe limits.”

She laughed through her teeth. “Khh-kh-kh. Safe limits - of course, of course. Safe."

"Yes, unlike you." I brushed her hand away and she shivered. "Grieg, what the hell are you doing? You've attended the trainings, you know what happens when a pilot is deployed this often. Do you want to die?"

The smile she gave me was chilling, sympathetic but without her eyes changing emotion. "Terminus... you still believe that shit. Why wouldn't you? It's frightening, isn't it? The melding of pilot and machine, flesh mangled and twisted and mutated. Frightening... Say, have you ever spoken with your unit before?”

“Spoken? I’ve interacted with the situational matrix, yes…” All Hoplites possessed an AI of sorts designed to help pilots make split second decisions in the midst of battle. But I’d never really considering it “speaking”, any more than you would speak with a dog. It didn't have the capacity for conversation... right?

“No, no I mean speak. Have you ever listened to your unit, spoken with her, let her take the reins? No, you- of course you haven't. They're all just numbers on a screen to you, aren't they? Just another crazy killing machine for you to puppet around.

"Think - how many times has your Hoplite saved your life? How many deaths would you have died by now if it weren't for that protective, loving embrace of mesh and steel? That's what it really is. They love us. They need us. You never listen, you all never listen, but they love us. I complete her as much as she completes me. Don't you feel strange when you have to leave her? Doesn't it feel wrong - backwards?

Grieg pushed closer to me. I tried to back away but she pressed me against a wall and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “We're almost complete. Our link is at 99.7 percent.”

My heart beat in my chest like an autocannon. Grieg wasn’t just at risk - this bitch was about to fucking explode!

“I - I - you can’t. You’re going to - you’re going to kill everyone. I-”, but she placed a two fingers, rough from countless wire insertions, against my lips.

“Please. You don’t need to tell anybody. We don’t want to hurt anyone… we just want each other. We don't want to be tools anymore."

I was sweating in my suit. No Hoplite is that smart... right? Surely someone else would have been able to talk to theirs - Grieg’s must have had a glitch. A unit gone rogue; the thought was terrifying.

“S-snap out of it Grieg - please. Your suit... it's clearly wrong. It's bugging - w-we can fix this. You're n-not in control here.”

She just smiled. “Neither are you, hm?”

I shivered. She wasn't wrong... I hated the missions they sent us on sometimes. I followed orders because, quite frankly, I didn't want to go back home. I didn't want to live the rest of my life as an E-class, scraping by on small NDs and living in fear of police quota checks. In a way I guess I did take solace in the time I spent in my mech, time spent not worrying about my family I left behind or shyly observing other soldiers, worrying about what civilian encampment or occupied city the higher ups would send us to raze next.

Fuck. She had me all figured out, didn't she? Did she feel the same way? Did my Hoplite really complete me like that, and even worse, did I complete it? I felt lightheaded - this was too much. I should have reported her to our captain... but what if...

What if she was right? What if the Hoplites really could think and speak - really did want to connect with us? What if I... god, I couldn't believe I was thinking this, but what if I bonded to mine?

I could barely look her in the eye.

"P-please... just don't hurt anyone."

Grieg stared at me for a moment, then pulled me into a tight embrace. I didn't resist. She smelled good.

"We'll try not to. No promises."

*****

They say she left in a hurry, blew the doors right off the hangar and flew west. No casualties, but they want to stop her before that changes. As one of the pilots on duty, I’ve been summoned to join the hunting party.

My suit feels too tight - too clingy. I leave off my gloves and unzip the front. No one tries to correct me; they're all too busy prepping for the chase.

Setting foot inside my mech, Hoplite unit HE-2729, I feel its hard steel with my bare hands. The harness wraps around me; it feels warm against my chest, vaguely pulsing and humming as the machine comes to life. I plug in and brace for the influx of peripheral data from its many sensors, but it's softer this time - gentler.

I can't believe I'm doing this. I bask in the flow of data: a cacophony of sight and sound most of which I can't even process, but I let it wash over my mind and surround me. Piloting usually makes me so tense, but right now I feel calmer than ever before.

I take a deep breath.

“Hello?”

[snippy-tano]

Would you be willing to write something with captain rex? With a medic reader who saves him from a life threatening injury and he accidentally confesses feelings while doped up on painkillers? Thank you so much and I am a such a big fan of your writing. ❤❤

okay... this one kind of got away from me.

I'm not sure how it happened, but it ended up being longer than I expected it would be. Also, it ended up a little angsty. I normally don't do angst because it bums me out, but apparently I was in that mood when I wrote this.

but! fear not!

I am the queen of fluff and it does have fluff and a happy ending! so fear not dear readers!

I hope you like it!! :))))

[[also as a warning, obvi there's some talk about wounds and medical procedures, but nothing too in-depth. also, I am not a medical professional at all, so this is all just a guess from what I've seen on tv and the limited first aid knowledge I have. so take it with a grain of salt lol]]

masterlist is here!

taglist is here!

tagging: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life; @marvel-starwars-nerd; @mackstrut; @dissapointingpancake; @quizznag; @ahsokatano-thetogruta; @welcometothepedroverse; @padawancat97; @fractiouskat; @mandaloriandin; @bantha-shit; @badbatch-simp24; @katelynnwrites; @s1st3r; @leotatombs; @torchbearerkyle; @rain-on-kamino; @the-navistar-carol; @bombshe77; @arctrooper69; @social-mockingbird; @littlebluebatbrat; @get-wr3ckered; @flowered-bicycles; @lucyysthings; @dangraccoon; @luna-schaf; @oh-delphinia; @dominhoe-squad; @kaermorons; @lucyysthings; @quizznag

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Beside Confessions

“Medic! We need a medic! Captain Rex is down!” 

The moment the words crackled over your comm, it was like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped over your head. Panic and dread gripped your heart and you blanked. 

Almost immediately, you shook away the fear and allowed yourself to slip back into your role as a medic. You detached yourself from the situation emotionally and focused on what you did best. 

You finished tying off a splint and jumped to your feet among the raging battle. You took off running, hitting your comm unit. 

“I’m on my way. Where is he?” You yelled and you got a response almost immediately. 

“Sending coordinates now!”

Your wrist datapad beeped and you hit the small screen, seeing a small red beacon appear. You adjusted your course and pushed yourself to run harder. The battle continued to rage a few streets over, but you were relieved to see that when you rounded the corner, there were no droids near where Rex had gone down. 

You could see a few troopers sticking close, blasters raised. When they caught sight of you, you could practically see the relief in their postures. 

You skidded to a halt beside him, dropping to your knees without thinking. 

“What happened?” You gasped, throwing open your med kit to dig for a stim. 

“He was covering Cable over there while he set some charges when a droideka came out of nowhere. No one saw it coming.” The trooper beside the Captain said. He was pressing hard on what looked like a leg wound.

You quickly did a scan of the Captain and found that he was in really bad shape. 

You cursed under your breath before grabbing a stim and jabbing it into his neck. Rex stirred slightly, coughing. You leaned over him, tapping his chest. 

“Captain? Captain, can you hear me?” 

He coughed again before his eyes barely opened. “Yeah, I can hear you.” His voice was hoarse and tight from pain. You flashed a small light in his eyes, watching his pupils dilate. 

“Did you hit your head?” You asked, speaking loudly and he shook his head once before wincing. 

“No. Just my leg.”

Satisfied that you would be able to move him once you got him stable, you turned to the wound in his leg. The trooper was still pressing hard and you instructed him to continue to do so. You pulled out copious amounts of bandages from your medkit and a large bacta patch.

“I’m going to put this on his wound so I’ll need you to remove your hands. But once I put it on, go back to pressing against it as hard as you can. Okay?” You said, looking into the trooper’s eyes. 

He gave you a firm nod and you counted down. He lifted and you placed a bandage on the large open wound. The trooper immediately replaced his hands, causing Rex to groan loudly. You set to work removing his thigh guard and cutting into his blacks to give you a more clear picture as to what you were dealing with. 

There were two troopers currently watching for oncoming droids. You didn’t want to pull one of them away, but you didn’t have a choice. 

“I need one of you to come help.” You called and both of them turned. One lowered his blaster and approached you, kneeling down beside you. “I’m going to have to spray the area with bacta to clean it before I stitch it up. I gave him a stim, which will help with the pain, but he will likely flinch, even if it’s involuntary. I need the both of you to make sure he doesn’t move.”

Both troopers nodded and you readied your supplies as they got into position. 

“This is going to hurt a lot Captain.”

Rex let out a weak chuckle. “S’okay. Just do it.”

You made eye contact with both of the troopers who gave you another firm nod. You removed the bandage and began to spray the area generously with the bacta. As you expected, Rex flinched, crying out. But the troopers helping did what they were supposed to do and kept him from moving as you made sure there was no infection.

You did a quick scan and confirmed no infection remained. You were also able to confirm that no major arteries were damaged, which meant that once you patched him up, he shouldn’t have any internal bleeding. You gave another look to the two troopers as you readied the stitches and they both gave you another nod. 

So you got to work. 

By the time you had finished stitching him up, Rex had passed out from the pain. Which was probably the better alternative to remaining awake. You had one of the troopers call for a med evac while you covered the area with sterile bandages, fastening it to him. When you finished, you moved up to check his vitals again. His breathing was a little shallow, but his heart was steady and his pupils were still responsive to light. 

For just a moment, you dropped your medic mask and looked down at him as he slept. You cursed at him for getting injured and wished that he was awake right now so you could give him a piece of your mind. You were so mad that he had gotten this injured. But at the same time you were relieved he was going to be okay, barring any other complications.

The thought of him dying sent your mind spiraling and you were quick to clamp down the thoughts and stop them. Now wasn’t the time for that. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the med evac arriving. Two medics jumped out of the ship carrying a board. You were quick to rattle off what had happened and what you had done as you helped them secure him to the board. They gave you a restocked medpack and promised to comm you when he was stable and recovering. 

You watched the evac lift into the air and head for the Resolute. 

You allowed yourself until you couldn’t see it anymore to worry. But as soon as it was beyond your field of vision, you turned around and looked out at the battlefield. One of the troopers from before had stuck around and you shared a look. 

“Ready?” You asked and he nodded. Together you headed towards the sounds of blasters and cannons.

Your job as a medic was never fully done. Most times you were fine with that, but knowing that Rex was seriously injured had you wishing you could have stayed by his side aboard that transport. 

You only hoped what you had done was enough.

 

It was after a few more hours of providing constant medical care to injured troopers that you were finally relieved of your post on the front-lines. You were ordered back to the Resolute to get some rest. You found an empty seat on a transport with some injured troopers and you found yourself checking on them and their wounds as you made the short trip from the surface back to the ship waiting in the upper atmosphere. 

You assisted a few of them to the med bay, helping one limp along the halls. Your fellow medics were quick to take the trooper from you and you let out a deep, exhausted sigh as you stood in the middle of the medbay that was full of injured men. 

You felt a touch at your elbow and jumped slightly, relaxing when you saw one of your fellow medics. They gave you a soft smile before pressing a wet wipe into your hands and nudging their head towards a bed in the corner of the medbay. You tried not to think about how it was obvious you were here to see the Captain, instead giving their arm a squeeze and heading to where they had motioned. 

The curtains around the bed were drawn and you quietly pulled them apart to step inside, drawing them closed behind you. 

Captain Rex looked a little better than the last time you had seen him. 

He had some more color back in his face and his breathing was much more stable. You cleaned off your hands, pulled on some gloves, and took a peek at his wound. It was still an angry red and puffy, but it looked like it would heal nicely. 

You discarded the gloves and then looked down at Rex. You reached forward and gently gripped his hand, giving it a small squeeze. He didn’t react. And you were okay with that.

You turned before slumping into the seat beside his bed with a huff. 

All of the exhaustion from the day seemed to hit you at once and you found your eyes starting to grow heavy. You initially tried to fight it, wanting to be awake when Rex woke up, but your body had other ideas and before you knew it, you were out cold. 

You’re not sure how much time had passed, but eventually you woke up. You took a deep breath, feeling some of your joints pop as you stretched. You rubbed your eyes before opening them fully to see that Rex was awake and watching you.

You swallowed, feeling your face warm slightly. 

“How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?” You asked softly, standing up to approach him. 

He watched you with a small smile before shaking his head. “No. I’m okay.”

You pressed your hand against his forehead, noting that he was warm, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for clone troopers who tended to run on the warm side. You went to remove your hand only for Rex to catch it with his own. 

You watched with wide eyes as he gripped your hand, entangling your fingers with his. 

“You saved my life.” 

You cleared your throat, looking down at your worn boots. “I did what any medic would have done. You should be thanking your men for helping me and keeping you alive until I got there.”

Rex gave your hand a squeeze and you looked back up at him. 

He gave you another dopey smile that had your heart fluttering in your chest. You weren’t sure what was going on with him, but you didn’t think it was going to get any worse.

Turns out you should have guessed he would take it another step further. 

“I like you.”

His words had you freezing. 

He-

There-

He couldn’t have-

Your brain stopped working as you stumbled through your own thoughts. You looked at his IV drip and saw some pretty strong pain meds listed on one of the bags. 

“You don’t mean that, it’s the pain meds talking.” You said, trying to pull your hand out of his and struggling. 

For someone who was on death’s door four hours ago, he had remarkable grip strength. 

“S’not that. I mean it.” Rex said and you shook your head. 

“You don’t. You can’t. I’ll come and check on you once you’re off the pain meds.” You again tried to go, but Rex refused to let go. In fact, he gave your hand a tug and you stumbled closer, falling to sit on the small space on his bed not occupied by him. 

He winced slightly at the movement of his leg, but his eyes fixed back on you immediately. He looked sad. “Why don’t you believe me?”

You felt your heart clench. “Because it’s the pain meds talking. There’s no way you’d say the same thing without them.”

His gaze fell to where his hands were clasped around yours. 

“What if I do?” He asked softly and you looked up to meet his eyes. “What if I tell you the same thing when I’m out of the medbay? Will you believe me then?”

You took a shaky breath. “You’re not going to remember any of this to remember you need to tell me.”

You were absolutely dodging the question, but you hoped he would be high enough that he wouldn’t pick up on it. 

“I will.” Rex said, sounding more sure than you had ever heard him sound. “I’ll remember and I’ll kiss you to prove it.”

Your heart hurt. It was hard enough knowing that he wouldn’t remember this and you would never progress beyond friends. It hurt to hear him sound so sure when you knew nothing would ever come of it.

You let out a shaky breath. “Alright Rex. If you remember, you do that.” 

He smiled softly before his head sunk back against the pillow and he quietly fell back asleep. You looked down at your hand that was still clasped in his. You didn’t move at first, selfishly you wanted to enjoy this feeling for as long as you could, knowing you’d never get the chance again. 

When you finally rose, pulling your hand from his, you brushed a stray tear from your cheek and headed out, the curtains surrounding his bed fluttering shut behind you. 

It was better this way. You kept repeating to yourself.

If only you actually believed it. 

A few rotations later, you had received word that Captain Rex was out of the medbay and cleared for light duty. 

Part of you was relieved. It meant that he was healing well and would be back to his normal self. He had survived a gruesome injury and would live to fight another day. It allowed the vice that had gripped your heart since you first got the comm he was injured to slither away. 

Another part of you was devastated because this meant that you would go back to your original relationship of casual friends. Every night you had dreamed about what Rex had told you, which made the news he was cleared for duty that much more painful. Hearing him say those words and then nothing coming of it was brutal and you didn’t wish it on anyone. You spent many nights after he was injured crying into your pillow; terrified of the thought that you almost lost him and devastated that you’d never get the chance to tell him how you really felt.

But you pushed down those feelings of disappointment and continued on with your job as a medic. 

When you finished your shift, you headed for your quarters aboard the ship. You had been lucky to get your own. There was an odd number of civilian medics aboard the ship and you were the lucky one to get their own private quarters. If someone else joined, then you would likely have to share. But for now, you enjoyed the single room. 

You rounded the corner to your quarters and stopped in your tracks, your boots squeaking against the durasteel floors. 

Captain Rex was leaning against the wall outside of your quarters. He must have heard your boots because he turned at the sound, eyes fixing on you. He stood up straight, clearing his throat. 

“Sorry to bother you, I was just hoping to speak with you for a moment. To thank you for saving my life.” He said and you could feel your heart shattering. 

You took a breath and plastered a fake smile on your face as you approached and punched in the code to your room. “It’s no bother. Would you like some tea?”

You asked and he shook his head.

You gave him a nod before ducking your head and stepping inside your quarters. You heard him enter behind you and the door slink shut. To keep your mind busy, you began making yourself a cup of tea, turning on the small kettle you had. 

“You don’t need to thank me.” You started. “I was just doing my job. Knowing that you recovered is enough thanks for me.”

He didn’t reply and you took another shaky breath as you picked up a mug. 

Rex saying your name had you freezing, shoulders tensing. 

His boots clicked against the floor as he approached and you didn’t dare turn around. As it turned out, you didn’t have to because Rex’s hands gently gripped your shoulders and turned you around. You didn’t even have time to react before he was leaning down, capturing your lips in a kiss that had your heart stop beating. 

The sound of the mug that had been in your hands shattering at your feet didn’t seem to deter Rex, who only wrapped his arms around you, tugging you closer. The shock to your system was a big one, but you recovered quickly, letting your eyes close. He seemed to sense the moment you gave in because he pressed even closer, causing you to stumble a step.

Your back dug into the small table behind you, but you paid it no mind. You didn’t know where this was going, but you didn’t want to lose what may be your only chance to kiss the man you had grown to love with all your being. Rex seemed to have the same idea because he kissed you with a passion you hadn’t expected. It was as if he was also afraid this was going to be the only chance he had to taste you and wanted to make sure he memorized the feeling. 

He pulled back abruptly, eyes opening to fix on your face. You sniffled and he raised one of his hands to brush away the tears that had fallen. He lifted his other hand and cradled your cheeks, softly smiling. 

“I remembered.” He said and you let out a wet laugh. “I know you didn’t believe me then, but please believe me now when I say that I have feelings for you.”

You bit down on your lip, feeling your heart that had broken before slowly began to mend with the touch of Rex’s hands on your face. You nodded weakly and he brushed a thumb against your cheek. 

“I can tell you still don’t quite believe me, but I promise you that I will prove it to you every day. And I will be thorough.” He said with a cheeky grin and you smiled, letting your head thump against his chest plate. 

You released a breath, feeling him run a hand up and down your spine. 

“Just don’t get hurt like that again and you’ve got a deal.” You whispered and he nudged your head for you to look up. You obliged. 

“I can’t promise I won’t, but I do promise to do my best to return to you every day.” Rex said and you gave him a nod in agreement. He smiled at you and you returned it. 

Rex was quick to lean back down and pressing his mouth once again against yours. Your heart was soaring and for the first time since you received that comm, you felt like the galaxy was lifted off your shoulders.

And with Rex by your side, you knew that everything would be okay.