#clone trooper jag

[totallycorrectjediorderquotes]

Comet: It's spooky season!

Jag: Every season is spooky season when you're haunted by your life decisions.

[veny-many]

Wolffe: I'm CC-3636, Wolffe, sir.

Plo: Koh-to-yah, commander Wolffe!

Wolffe: :)

Warthog: Sir, I'm Warthog. And ready for the ride!

Plo: (Oh, interesting...)

Jag: My name is Jag, General. It's honored to be meet you, sir.

Plo: ...

Plo: If I may, Would you like to explain about your name's origin?

Jag: Oh, about that! There are awesome predator in sky, the Shriek-hawks! They are called jai'galaar in Mando'a, and I took that name! But since it was too complex to say full name, I preferred Jag as my nickname.

Plo: ...

Plo: I think my clone partners really love brave wonderful beasts. That's interesting.

[purgetrooperfox]

propaganda (elevator pitches) ⬇️

Nocte (sw):

is CMO of the Coruscant Guard. fiercely loyal to the Guard. deeply wary of the senate, with very few exceptions. he's my oldest oc and probably the one y'all are most likely to have heard of. integrated into arcs with many of my friends' ocs/fics/whatnot <3 what else goes in his elevator pitch,,, known to take kids and younger clones under his wing, protective to a fault, low tolerance for nonsense. beat around the bush at your own peril. questionable bedside manner. manwhore tendencies. I love him, you love him. he's been transplanted into [checks list] cod, tlou, and bebop

Uj'alayi (sw):

is an ARC trooper, used to work with the Shadows then got brutally injured and had to transition to the CG. owes his life to Quinlan Vos and is disgruntled about it. guard dog coded. his bite is exponentially bigger than his bark. on the surface: quick to laugh, quick to joke, charismatic and personable without being overbearing. this may or may not be a mask he wears. will lay a beat down on just about anyone if they Cause Issues for Fox. in the relationship of all time with Lane Hurosa (another of my ocs)

Bones (sw):

is marshal commander of the 410th recon corps under Bastra Vargdan (another of my ocs). traits include: CQC specialist, confounded by the concept of the Force, at least partly responsible for getting a gambling ring going in the GAR (has a poke face like nobody's business). outside of working hours, he's laid back, easygoing. stark contrast between On-Duty Bones and Off-Duty Bones. encyclopedic knowledge of regs, but flexible adherence to them sometimes. big brained tactical strategist, ended up teaching Bastra a Lot about like. how to lead a corps

Bastra (sw):

my Jedi 👉👈 trained by Sifo-Dyas so dookudyas is very dad-coded to him. specialized as an Investigator, excels at undercover ops. also has quite a bit of integration into my friends' oc arcs and stuff <3 buddies with Obi-Wan, gets on pretty well with the TG and CG since he spends a chunk of his time on Coruscant. ummmm he takes a Padawan like 10ish years before the war, somewhere in that range. he's a goofy guy, real stiff and formal a lot of the time but it lets up around people he trusts. of course I know him, he's me etc etc. he's currently getting transplanted into cp2077

Lane (sw):

is a journalist on Coruscant. they spend a Lot of time in the senate district, very good at schmoozing. certified flatterer. charming, if you will. always asking one million questions that senators do Not want to answer, which results in bans from various spots around the city LOL honestly they're just neat idk what to tell you. they stay following risky leads and getting themself into binds. they're squinting very hard at the details of how the Republic acquired a clone army

Myn (sw):

is a smuggler in the early Rebellion era. also a relentless optimist, sees the very first scraps of resistance and buys in immediately. IF somehow Nocte’s alive at that point, Myn's the one who tries and probably fails to sell him on participating in the rebellion

Vio Selnes (sw):

owns and operates a 24h diner on Coruscant. this diner gets heavy business from clones leaving 79s. connections to the clones leads to scattered connections with the Jedi, leads to the restaurant being used as a rendezvous point from time to time. part of Dexter Jettster's network

Jag (mk):

is part of the Kahn Guard when Kotal's in power. he was raised by the Shaolin Monks until he bailed, moved to the States, got into all sorts of illicit activities. Kung Jin eventually moves onto his couch and joins his crew. those illicit activities land him in a stint with the Black Dragon, which is a real lesson in Kano Is A Bastard. when Erron jumps ship, Jag goes with him. he's kind of an idiot, full of trussed issues, gay as hell, will bring a knife to a gunfight or a gun to a knife fight

Rose (mk):

is part of Danver's crew from before he went BD. the brains of that whole operation. she's severely underdeveloped unfortunately but I promise she's very cool. computer nerd. minimal filter on her in the best way

Eyes (cp2077):

is a ripperdoc with more focus on ripping than doc-ing. from Pacifica, got a long time connection to Mr. Hands. wound up in Maelstrom pretty young, cut his teeth on committing atrocities and revolutionizing Maelstrom's uhhh forcible cyberware implantations and general torture methods :) was real loyal to Brick, so Royce wrecked his shit when he took over, meant to kill him but he managed to get out. winds up on Viktor Vektor's table for recovery, tries very hard to turn over a new leaf. he's a fucked up bastard of a guy I shan't lie. compels me though

[ghostofskywalker]

Bacta, Burns, and Bedside Manner

Kix/Fem!Reader

Fictober Day 7 of 31

Words: 1,656

Summary: Kix has a lot of talents, but his brothers wouldn't usually cite bedside manner as one of them. That is, until you showed up in the medbay with injuries that needed to be looked at.

Clone Troopers Masterlist

“Kriff!” you swore loudly and unapologetically as the wire you were working on sparked, startling you and burning two of your fingertips. You were currently wedged in the engine of a gunship, attempting to repair the combustion, but so far all you were doing was causing yourself more pain. There was already a nasty looking scratch on your arm from where you had accidentally caught it on a jagged edge, and your head was throbbing from where you had hit it against the top of the space you were occupying. To say the least, you were not having a good day.

“Are you alright in there?” a trooper’s voice sounded from outside the gunship.

“Yeah!” you called before pulling your body out from the engine and looking at who had stepped into your workshop (Fives). “Just crossed my wires and caught a little spark, that’s all.”

The “little spark” in question actually hurt a lot more than you were letting on, as red-hot pain seized through your fingertips and made you feel like you were holding a hot pan, but he didn’t need to know that.

But even though you were attempting to keep your injuries to yourself, Fives still wasn’t convinced. He just stared at the scrape on your arm (that had started to bleed more profusely at this point) for a few moments before looking up to meet your gaze. “Are you sure? You’re bleeding there.”

“That’s fine, I’ll just throw a patch over it.”

Fives raised his eyebrows. “I don’t think that’s something a single bacta patch can fix,” he said. “Let me take you to the medbay.”

You were all set to say no, that you knew basic first aid and could handle everything yourself, but the pain in your fingertips was only continuing to increase, and you had to fight to keep the tears from welling in your eyes. So instead, you just nodded and stepped forward, allowing Fives to usher you out of your workshop.

When you finally stepped through the doors of the medbay, the brightness and bustle of the room immediately made your head throb even more. You just closed your eyes and stood there with Fives, trying to ignore the pain on your arm, in your fingertips, and on your head. “What’s happened here?” you heard a medic ask.

You opened your eyes to see Kix looking at you with a concerned expression, but you couldn’t find the words to speak just yet. Thankfully, Fives was there to answer his brother’s question. “I walked in to hear her swear and she said that a few crossed wires sparked. That’s not even counting the bleeding scrape on her arm, which she said she would just throw a patch on and be done with.”

After Fives spoke, Kix turned to you. “Is that all true?”

You nodded. “And my head,” you managed to croak out. Kix just nodded and motioned for you to follow him to one of the beds, quietly telling Fives that he could get back to whatever he was doing.

“Alright,” he said once you had sat down on the bed. “Tell me everything that’s wrong.”

You took a deep breath before responding. “The wires burned my fingertips and I hit my head on the gunship before. Oh, and there’s the scrape on my arm, but you can see that pretty clearly.”

“How long ago was the burn sustained?” He asked, and the look on your face told him all he needed to know. He stepped away, returning a few moments with a wet cloth. “Which hand was it?”

You help up the thumb and pointer finger on your dominant hand, and he wrapped the cloth around them, the relief instant as the cool material made contact with your burning skin. “We’ll keep this on for at least a half hour. If it gets too warm, I’ll give you a fresh one.”

You just nodded in response, still overcome by the feeling of the pain finally abated. After that, he cleaned up your scratch and wrapped it in gauze. The feelings of his fingertips gently holding your arm made you feel like you were burning up for a slightly different reason. There was always something about the 501st’s head medic that intrigued you, and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t think he was attractive. All the clones were nice looking in their own ways, but Kix had something special about him.

“You said something about your head too,” he murmured as he secured the gauze on your arm.

“I hit it against the top of the gunship by accident,” you responded.

You pointed out the area to him and he carefully checked you over. “I don’t think you have a concussion, but I’m going to get you some ice for where it hurts,” he said. “Then you can lie down for a little while, okay?”

“No, I thought-”

But the look on his face had you trailing off before you had finished your sentence. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said. “Especially not with those burns on your fingers.”

“But-”

“No buts, you need to rest in order to heal properly, and it won’t do you any good to go back to work before you feel better,” he said gently.

You didn’t want to be a burden to him for longer than you had to be, but you did understand where he was coming from. “Alright,” you said. “I suppose I can stay around a little longer.”

After Kix got you a fresh compress for your burns and an ice pack for your head, you ended up falling asleep, hoping that when you woke up you wouldn’t be in pain anymore.

***

When you opened your eyes, you could hear voices, but the curtain around your bed obscured whoever it was from your view.

“How is she?” That sounded like Fives.

“Asleep now, but she’ll be fine,” Kix responded.

Another voice joined the conversation, and you guessed that it was Echo. “That’s good. Rex said that she should stay here as long as necessary and not to worry about the ship she was fixing, it’s not a big deal.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t scare her off,” yet another voice said, this one sounding like Jesse.

“What do you mean?” Kix asked. You couldn’t see his face, but you could guess that he looked a little bit offended.

You had to hold in a little giggle at Jesse’s words, because you knew what he meant. Bedside manner was not one of Kix’s strengths as a medic. He could patch up any blaster wound in seconds, knew exactly what to look for when there was the possibility of a concussion, and could usually tell just by looking at someone whether or not they had fractured or broken a rib, but he wasn’t exactly all sunshine and smiles while doing so. Especially when it came to his batch mates or fellow troopers of the 501st. The better Kix knew someone, the ruder he was when patching them up, especially if they had sustained the injury doing something dumb. You had escorted a few troopers to the medbay yourself (one time after a game of hide and seek got out of hand), and watched as Kix teased his brothers while he helped them with their injuries.

But he was never like that with you. The harshest he had been was when you tried to get up and go back to work, and you wondered why that was as Fives responded to Kix’s earlier question.

“Come on Kix,” he said. “We get injuries and you call us di’kuts all the time, but suddenly now your bedside manner gets a makeover?”

“It’s because he likes her,” Jesse cut in. Well, that certainly piqued your interest.

“Jesse!”

“What? It’s true, isn’t it?”

But before Kix could confirm or deny the accusations, you sneezed (at the worst kriffing time for it). Conversation stopped and the curtain was pulled away, revealing Kix, Fives, Echo, and Jesse, all staring at you. Jesse seemed to realize the situation first, wishing Kix good luck and bolting out of the medbay, and Fives and Echo were not far behind him.

Kix looked like he wanted to chase after his brothers and strange them as he turned to you. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you responded, not sure where to go from here. Do you apologize that you overheard? Do you ask him if what Jesse said was true?

But Kix spoke again before you could say anything else. “Listen, I’m sorry about them,” he said.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I know what brothers are like, I’m sorry for eavesdropping.”

A silence fell over the two of you, but eventually Kix spoke again. “I just wish they hadn’t been so obvious about it, I was going to get there eventually.”

“What?” Yeah, that definitely wasn’t your finest choice of words.

“Jesse was right, I do like you,” Kix said. “And I was going to ask you out to dinner the next time we were on Coruscant, but I suppose the tooka is out of the bag now.”

“And is that offer of dinner on Coruscant still on the table?” you asked tentatively. You really hoped that he said yes, because if this was really happening, you didn’t want to go back the way it was.

Kix smiled. “Maybe. Why, do you want to take it?”

“Maybe.”

The two of you shared a quiet laugh as Kix took your hand, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your cheek. “Yeah, it’s still on the table.”

But before he could pull away, you took advantage of a fleeting moment of bravery and sat up, placing a kiss of your own on his lips. “Good,” you said as you broke apart, love struck looks on both your faces. “Because I’d really like to take you up on the offer.”  

- the end - 

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[clonedadplo]

I could go into a huge diatribe about how sad Plo Koon's death was and how Order 66 will forever remain the most devastating thing to happen in the entire Star Wars franchise (IMHO) however I would instead like to say that honestly; I'm just glad Plo Koon just got shot down from behind and never even saw it coming.

Never had to look into the eyes of Jag and his wingman, or anyone from his beloved Wolffe Pack and watch them turn on him.

Because even though it would be only momentary right before he was shot down can you imagine the absolute pain?

The heartbreak?

And if he ever knew that his ship was not only shot down by his adoptive children but that it also crashed into a clone training center and killed 141 more clone troopers?

I honestly can't imagine.

And I do mean adoptive children because damn, he seemed to be the only person who understood that these men are all just rapidly aged children given highly impressive combat/tactical capabilities and not much else. And honestly. He's just paternal.

But no, there was never a moment Plo had to question why his men pulled back to follow him. Why? Because the Wolffe Pack follows him everywhere.

I'm sure even if he felt some disturbance in the force having his men behind him could never make him feel anything other than comforted.

Unfortunately this leaves us to lament how Commander Wolffe gets to feel, having survived the clone wars and outlived his buir.

So yeah, gun the man down while he ain't looking, stab him in the back, kill him in his sleep anything is fine.

There's no need to be honourable, just don't break his heart.

Gif credits to: @phantom-of-the-keurig @barissoffee @kamino-coruscant, @ahsoka-snips-tano-lives and SYGT3M on tenor

[freesia-writes]

accidental first kiss with Rexy-boy!! god I love that man with my whole heart! (Ps, this request is from @snippy-tano, this is just my main blog)

Yayyy @snippy-tano -- Here ya go! <3

Rex x GN!Reader Word Count: 1.3k

Amidst the bustling corridors of the Republic starcruiser, you were going about your duties in the med bay, tending to injured soldiers as the Clone Wars raged on. The constant influx of casualties was a grim reminder of the galaxy's turmoil. As a medic, you had become accustomed to the chaos of the war, yet it was the healing and saving lives that gave you purpose and perseverance. 

One day as you worked diligently, a familiar authoritative voice disrupted the typical clamor as a few orderlies accompanied the new arrivals. Captain Rex, the steadfast leader of the 501st, had been brought in with a minor injury. The proximity of such an iconic figure in the Grand Army of the Republic gave the room an electric charge, and it wasn't just from the buzzing medical equipment. Your position as medic had allowed you a variety of encounters with the clones, and there was one who had always stood out to you. Not that you’d ever expect him to actually notice you, considering his position and yours, but the short conversations you’d enjoyed had always been laced with a surprising depth that drew you to him like a magnet.

"Captain Rex," you acknowledged him, your voice maintaining a professional tone while your heart raced. His handsome face was marred by a jagged cut from his eyebrow to his hairline, dark with dried blood. "What happened this time?"

Rex offered a half-grin, a mix of pain and amusement in his eyes as he answered, "I think a clanker was trying to kiss me." His tone was playful, but his words brought immediate *thoughts* to mind, and you pulled the flimsy curtain closed behind you as he sat on the exam table, muttering “I don’t blame it,” under your breath.

There wasn’t any way to stand in front of him that didn’t feel awkward; you didn’t want to put one of your legs between his, so you shuffled to the side to lean over his head, which was just below yours in his seated position. You swallowed as you tried to remain nonchalant, reaching a hand to his chin to gently tilt it upward for a proper assessment. Maker, his amber eyes reflected every light in the room, and you found yourself lost in them for a split second before jerking your gaze back to his head. You left your fingers on his jaw and placed the other hand on the side of his head, his blond hair bristling beneath your palm. 

"You're fortunate it wasn't more severe," you commented, seeking anything to discuss to take your mind off of his proximity… his quiet gentleness… his broad shoulders... You cleared your throat, “You could have lost an eye.” 

Rex's gaze was unwavering, filled with respect for your dedication and an unspoken admiration that ran deeper; it was something he had held for a while as he watched you go above and beyond in your care for the endless stream of injured troopers. He chuckled softly, the sound resonating in the small space. "Yeah, I suppose I am. But if it gives me a little time to… ah… hang out here… then it’s not all that bad.”

The compliment caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but blush slightly as you began to clean the wound with delicate hands. The war had left little room for such conversations, and this unexpected exchange felt like a breath of fresh air. Especially from him. 

“I mean,” he continued, “because you’re… you’re such a skilled medic. No one sprays that bacta quite like you…” He faded off at the end, cringing at his own words and causing you to wonder if he was so quick to correct himself because he would never want that sort of assumption… 

“Yes, that is pretty much all I do,” you said, intending it to be light and playful but realizing as it came out that it could be interpreted as indignation or sarcasm. Before you could clarify, he had already jumped in.

“No! No, I know you do more. You do… a lot! So much more… Ah, kriff,” he finally declared, and his earnest floundering made it impossible for you to hold back a giggle. How could someone be so fearless, commanding, strategic, and… awkward? 

“I was just teasing,” you offered, giving him a wink as you sprayed the all-purpose bacta. He closed his eyes at the cool sensation, and you released your gentle hold on his chin, allowing him to lower his head. You bent closer to ensure adequate coverage, resting a hand on the outside of his bicep. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about touching his arms before… gliding your hands across the scars and muscles as you lay in his embrace, listening to his smooth voice in your ear as he shared more of himself with you than he’d ever allowed to anyone else… 

You noticed suddenly that some of the silky liquid had gathered on the edge of his eyebrow, threatening to drip into his eye. Without thinking, you wiped it away with a brush of your thumb that lingered on the edge of his face for a moment longer than was medically necessary. At the same time, he was opening his eyes, and they widened at the sight of your face so close to his. You couldn’t pull your hand away, resting bent fingers against the side of his head and staring at him like an idiot. Gods, he was enrapturing – an inexplicable combination of competence and humility.

He lifted his face to yours, moving suddenly and deliberately as if you’d given him an order. His hands were tightly gripping the edge of the bed on either side of his legs; you could feel his knuckles pressing into the side of your thigh as his nose touched yours, lips slightly parted. As if in a dream, you closed your eyes and met his mouth with your own.

Fireworks exploded across every inch of your skin, and you dropped your hand to his shoulder, tilting your head to meet him more fully. You were frantically trying to memorize every detail of this moment, because you were positive that you would wake up soon and none of it would have really happened. His lips were so soft, yet pressed against yours with a firm resolve. The scent of his face and the sound of his breathing were intoxicating, and you felt as though you were drifting on a cloud. 

As quickly as it began, it was over, both of you pulling back with shock and awe painted across your faces. Your mouth remained slightly open as you stepped back on wobbly legs, and he lifted a hand to his own mouth in disbelief. 

“Is that… That wasn’t what you were… You weren’t going in for a kiss, were you?” he stuttered, muffled between his fingers as his face blossomed red. Your heart swelled in your chest at his reaction, and you couldn’t resist touching his cheek one last time with a shaky, adoring hand. 

“No,” you admitted shyly, “but that was… amazing.” Your voice was quiet and breathy as it carried your vulnerable admission, and his mortified expression began to melt into one of unsure curiosity. 

“I’m sorry, though…” he continued, “I didn’t mean–”

“Please,” you interrupted, “Don’t be sorry. You don’t need to say anything. Just… thank you.” 

He rubbed the back of his neck with a hand as you stood up straight again, and he rose to his feet beside you, eyes unable to leave the ground. He chuckled as a preface to his next words, “Head wounds, you know…” Your sudden laughter brought his gaze up to meet your own, and you couldn’t hide the affection and admiration on your face. 

“Head wounds,” you echoed with a smile. 

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[arctrooper69]

Falling is Just Uncontrolled Flying

Contains Spoilers from the Season 2 finale under the cut

Warnings: S2 Finale spoilers, angst

--------------------------------------------------

You'd always loved flying. It was the one thing that could be whatever you wanted it to be and then immediately become something else. One could be perfectly at peace, sailing through hyperspace and then suddenly be thrown into the heat of battle the very second you jumped out. It was chaos. But what was flying other than controlled falling?

***

Hardly registering Omega's cries and the raw screams ripping from your own throat, you threw yourself off of the falling rail car after Tech. The wind roared in your ears, heart pounding as you leapt through the debris, using the Force to launch yourself from piece to jagged piece, letting the momentum propell you forward. The harsh wind felt like sandpaper as it cut across your face.

You screamed as a large chunk of durasteel raked against your side, threatening to knock you off course.

"Tech!" You called out on instinct, though you were certain he couldn't hear you from the velocity at which he was falling.

Gritting your teeth, you launched yourself from the hunk of metal, flying through the air. You could feel Tech several meters below you - his fear, his heartbreak.

His acceptance.

"This is the will of the Force" You could hear Master Windu calmly reassure you. The first time you'd heard him say it, you were a scared and lonely youngling who'd just lost her best friend. "This is the will of the Force."

Anger coursed through your veins.

If that was the case, then the Force had taken the Jedi away. The Force had taken your clone battalion from you - stolen the men you considered to be family. The Force had ripped away so much of what you loved, and what you held close. You'd be damned if you let it take away the man you'd fallen in love with.

You let that anger take hold and with a feral scream, you reached out, willing the every particle of your being into slowing his decent.

Now Tech was flying. You were falling.

His eyes widened in shock as you grabbed a hold of his arm. You could feel his confusion, then the sudden horror that flickered through his expression when he met your eyes.

No! I hadn't meant for you to die with me.

You looked back at him in grim determination.

No one's dying today. Not on my watch.

He slowly shook his head, eyes hardening with a sharp finality. Yet you could feel his heart shatter. His arms wrapped around you in a final acceptance.

"Tech, I -" you mouthed.

A sudden scream ripped from your throat as something hard and heavy tore him from your grasp.

No! Not again! Please not again. I can't lose you.

You hit the ground hard. Pain exploded from your shoulder as it was wrenched beneath your body as you tumbled across the hard, rocky surface.

***

You opened your eyes to the sound of a com going off. It didn't sound like a Republic issued com. That could only mean Imperial.

Your breaths came fast and panicked.

Nonononono. Breathe. Can't help Tech if you can't breathe.

You screwed your eyes shut. Waves of nauseating pain spiked with every movement. It made it so hard to breathe. So hard to focus.

Tech. Breathe. Focus on Tech. Breathe. Where was Tech.

He lay several feet in front of you, face down on the ground, unmoving.

No. Please no.

You could feel the panic rising up again.

"Sir, we found the clone and the Jedi!" A modulated voice barked.

A pair of hands roughly flipped you over so that you lay on your back, blinking at the blinding sun.

"Leave him alone!" You growled, attempting to lunge at him, ignoring how your body stiffly protested the movement in flaming agony. There was only so much you could do to will your body into moving. All you could do was lift your head. Even that left your vision spinning. A white armored TK trooper leaned over you with a chuckle, slapping a pair of binders snugly around your wrists.

"Why? Your clone friend's already dead anyway."

No. Tech. He couldn't be dead. He couldn't. Not when you'd come all this way.

You dragged your gaze over to the pilot where he lay motionless, tears filling your eyes. It hit you then, the sudden tidal wave of heavy-laden grief. Nothing seemed to matter anymore - not your fate, not your friends. Nothing. Unbidden tears spilled from the corners of you eyes and you did nothing to stop them. You couldn't even if you wanted to. It was the only thing you were capable of. The world spun around you but it was all consumed under a blanket of unforgivably heavy numbness. Whatever your fate would be it didn't matter anymore.

Tech had been your fate. Now he was gone.

Fly high my friend.

You barely felt the crack of a blaster rifle against your skull, driving into dreamless unconsciousness.

***

The TK Trooper watched the Jedi's eyes rolled back into her head as the fight left her twitching muscles. Blood soaked her jacket and pants, and her shoulder hung loosely from it's socket. He placed her lightsaber on his belt and looked up as the senior science officer strode up the hill.

"Sir!" He stood at attention. "Should we bag them both?"

"No," the doctor said calmly. "That one's as good as dead. He won't be of any use to me."

He cleared his throat, narrowing his eyes as though thinking something through. "On second thought, take the clone to my lab. Make sure he stays alive. I may have use for him yet."

"And the Jedi?" the trooper questioned.

"Detain the Jedi. Lord Vader will find her very useful once they've broken her will."

--------------------------------------------------

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[ariadnes-red-thread]

Heartbeat

Summary: You wake up to find that you’re trapped in a cave with Fives. As oxygen dwindles and every breath you take is a countdown to death, you’re forced to confront your feelings for the ARC Trooper.

Pairing: Fives x AFAB!Reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+ *MINORS DNI*, Smut, PiV sex, Oral (female receiving), Brief descriptions of blood and wound care, Near Death Situation, Angst, Hurt/Comfort/Fluff, Porn with way too much Plot, Happy Ending

Word Count: 8.5k (don’t look at me)

A/N: NGL, this one got away from me. Also, maybe someday I’ll write something that isn’t “Idiots in Love” Trope. Today is not that day.

Ao3

It was the worst headache of your life. Everything throbbed. The pain radiated from your right temple and washed over your head, your neck, and then down your spine in sharp, ceaseless waves. The tension pulled your brow together, but any furrowing sent a new stabbing sensation straight to your forehead. The only comfort came from the surface below. Whatever you were lying on, the texture was worn, and the surface was stiff, but a damp coolness saturated the fabric, soothing your aching head. 

Where am I? You wondered, the thought forming in between the blooms of pain.

You blinked. The world was blurred as you tried to peek out from under heavy eyelids. The only light was faint, barely illuminating the shadows surrounding you. Awareness slowly returned to your limbs, and you realized you were lying on your side. You stretched out an arm and pushed yourself up. A groan left your lips at the effort.

“Oh, thank the little gods,” You heard a voice you couldn’t place. “You’re awake.”

You tried to turn to the person, but the movement and the change of position were too much. The world started to sway, and you began to plummet back downwards again.

“Whoa, whoa.” Large arms wrapped around you, halting your fall.

Whoever caught you pulled you into them, steadying you against their body, but any softness of their form was interrupted by a stiff, immovable chest. A puzzle piece to this mystery. Plastoid. You blinked. Armor. You blinked again. The haze started to leave your vision, but that didn’t make what you saw any clearer.

“Fives?”

The Arc Trooper grinned down at you, his trademark sideways smile still just as bright in the dim light.

“Hey, mesh’la.”

The clouds of your lightheadedness parted. Fives was kneeling next to you, supporting your weight against his chest plate as he held you up. You moved to right yourself again, crawling onto your knees and sitting back on your heels. He let you shift away from him, though his arms cautiously followed you as you straightened yourself, in case you swayed again.

Details slowly came into focus. Rock surrounded you on all sides. The edges and deep crevasses that ran up the jagged walls created long shadows that danced along the red stone in the soft glow. The light was thrown on them by a bright orb in the middle of this cavern. Through the shine, you recognized it as one of the ARC-standard lanterns. While the illumination didn’t offer much, it was enough to show that the open space you found yourself in wasn’t large, probably no bigger than an escape pod. The floor was dirt, and underneath you lay a blanket. It was one of the GAR-issued ones that the clones carried in their packs. My pack. Your instincts as a medic made your heart jump, and you instinctively patted the ground around you, looking for your gear before you spotted it. Leaning against the opposite corner of the cave was your medic pack and all of Fives’ kit. It had all been rifled through, with supplies out everywhere. You turned back to Fives, who was watching you carefully. He stayed on his knees next to you, still within arm’s reach.

“What’s…” Whatever question was on your lips was cut off and erased by another stabbing pain. 

You let out a small groan, and your hand shot to your forehead. You could feel a bacta patch on your temple. Underneath it, broken skin throbbed. You glanced down at your jumpsuit to find it covered in blood. 

“Look at me.” Fives quickly spoke, pulling your eyes back to his face. “You got hit in the head. You were a real mess. I’m not you or Kix, but I tried to clean you up as best I could.”

He made you track his fingers and asked you the questions you had asked him a million times before. For how talented a soldier he was, Fives had more head injuries than the rest of the GAR combined. You could always count on finding him in your medbay after every mission for one reason or another. He tried to assess your vision but flashed fingers before you faster than you could count them. 

“That’s not how you do that.” You giggled as you rolled your eyes. “Nice try, Doctor Fives.”

“Sarcasm intact, I see.” Fives chuckled, but the laugh didn’t meet his eyes.

He raised his hand to your chin and slowly tilted it so he could inspect your wound. He lifted his other hand to graze over your temple, pressing down on the bacta patch that he must have gotten from your pack and placed on your wound earlier.

“Wasn’t deep, luckily.” He said, his voice soft now. “Just bled a ton. You scared me, mesh’la.”

He was close. So close. And the look on his face made you wonder.

“A big ole ARC Trooper was scared for me?” You teased, desperate for anything to break the tension.

His eyes met yours before he flicked them back to the bandaged wound. Oh, you swallowed before you quickly reprimanded yourself. You had to do that often with Fives. You had been with the 501st since the beginning of the war, and you loved every one of the men you served with. They loved you too. When you weren’t chasing the brave -if slightly reckless - soldiers into battle, they were often pulling you into their own shenanigans, like nights out at 79’s or games of sabacc in the barracks or pranks that made Rex assign you all to fresher duty for a week. It was different with Fives, though. 

He had no idea, of course. He didn’t know how his banter, more playful and flirty than his brothers, or that little nickname, mesh’la, affected you. He didn’t know that, through no fault of his, you had been swept off your feet by the handsome man since the moment you met him. He’d never led you on or made you think your feelings were reciprocated. He’d been nothing but respectful and kind. Still, you couldn’t shake your feelings for the ARC Trooper. You loved the way he butted heads with you. You loved how he teased the people he cared about, including you. You loved the way he looked after his brothers. You loved his ingenuity on the battlefield. Despite your best efforts, you loved Fives. You pushed your feelings aside as best you could, trying to only let them creep up on you during dark moments alone. There was no point in dwelling on it. Fives would never feel that way about you. Still, this sudden doting made your stomach twist.

Don’t read into it. You scolded yourself. He’s just worried about you. With his gaze back on your forehead, you tried to turn your attention elsewhere. You searched for the last thing you remembered.

You were on Geonosis. That much you knew. Even in the dark, the sandstone of the walls around you was apparent. Geonosis. You strained and tugged on strings as you tried to remember why you were in Geonosis or, more importantly, where on Geonosis you were. 

“What’s going on, Fives?”

The ARC trooper sat back, finally confident you wouldn’t fall again, and leaned against the wall. He pulled one knee up, resting his arm on it. The other leg extended out next to you.

“What do you remember?”

He nodded as you pieced together details for him, filling in the blanks where he could. The more you tugged on those threads, the more you could weave together. Geonosis. You remembered trekking across the desert with a small squad. You remembered an ambush. A group of bugs had sprung out of the dunes. It had happened so suddenly. There had been a lot of blaster fire and explosions. As soon as the fighting started, Fives grabbed your arm, pulling you to shelter behind him. You remembered darkness engulfing the landscape and Fives cursing as his brothers disappeared from view. A sandstorm was sweeping in; brutal winds whipped up the desert as it approached. Fives took hold of your arm again, leading you to the foot of the nearby mesa. The last thing you could remember was pointing to a small cave, thinking it could offer shelter to wait out the deadly weather. Fives, barely visible even a foot in front of you as the storm finally descended, led the way. Then, nothing. There was no more thread to pull at. Trying to piece together the last of the story, you turned to look towards what you vaguely recalled to be the entrance. It was covered in broken, serrated rocks. You frowned. That couldn’t be good.

“Cave collapsed.” Fives finally admitted as you finished. “Must have been unstable, and the winds from the storm made it worse. I tried to dig out, but it just kept collapsing. Without tools, it’ll bring the whole thing down on us. And you’ve had enough head injuries for one day.”

“And you for one lifetime.” You reminded Fives. “So we’re stuck here, huh?”

He nodded, watching you as you moved to cross your legs and settle into a seated position. You noticed his careful look but kept your attention on the predicament.

“Any other exit?” You glanced around, the tall walls suddenly hugging you a little tighter.

If there were any, the cave held its secrets well. The only light came from the lamp, and the air felt heavy. Unmoving.

“No,” Fives’ face was grim when you turned back to him. “I looked after I got you cleaned up. My helmet was damaged during the cave-in, but the radar still works, and there’s nothing.”

He dropped his gaze to his boots. Fives was a lot of things, but a good liar wasn’t one of them. There was something he wasn’t telling you.

“What else?”

Fives let out a little huff. He knew lying wasn’t his strength either. After a moment, he spoke again.

“Indicators on my bucket show the oxygen supply of this little pocket isn’t… uh, well, it’s not gonna last forever.” He raised a hand, rubbing his gloved palm against the back of his neck, still not looking at you.

You frowned at Fives. You didn’t like how vague he was being. Many people mistook Fives’ carefree demeanor for carelessness, but you knew otherwise. Fives was nothing if not thorough in his recon, and that meant he was still hiding something.

“How long?” You asked, your tone still the same one you would use in the medbay. Scientific and determined.

“We have four more hours of oxygen.”

You nodded. That would explain the heaviness of the air.

“Is anyone coming?”

“Yes, Rex is on… on his way.” He coughed as he spoke.

You watched as his jaw twitched from the tension and his gaze shifted further from yours. You glanced at his helmet. It sat among the scattered gear, the antenna snapped off and lying beside it on the ground. You considered your own communicator for a moment but knew its range would never make it through these stone walls. You looked back at Fives.

“Don’t lie to me.” If you could have registered anything at that moment, you would have been surprised at how suddenly quiet your voice was.

Fives flicked his eyes back to finally meet yours. He stared, his honey-brown irises flickering gold in the dim light.

“No,” He finally answered, like a sentencing. “Comms are down. No one is coming.”

You nodded. Your gaze fell to your palms. This was it. Trapped with no way out. You had always known you could die during this war. You had assumed it would be on the battlefield. The thought that it wouldn’t be twisted in your gut. A rage began to boil. You didn’t want to die here, suffocating. You wanted to go down fighting. You looked back at Fives, ready to protest against your fate. Then you saw his face. He met you with a look of understanding that stopped any objection on your lips.

“It’s okay.” He shrugged. “I’m mad too. I’m a soldier. I’m supposed to die on my feet, not in some cave.”

With that, the rage disappeared.

“I’m sorry, Fives.”

“Me too.” He gave you a half-smile. “Honestly, part of me hoped you wouldn’t wake up. Then you wouldn’t have known. You wouldn’t have to wait.”

You tried to return his half-smile, but your heart panged at the thought of Fives having to wait for death alone. You crawled to sit against the wall next to him. Pressing your back against the stone wall, you rested your head on his pauldron.

“Well, I’m glad I’m awake.” You finally spoke. You were surprised to find that you meant it. “What now?”

“Just wait, I guess.” 

You didn’t have to look at Fives to see the defeat that had swept over him. It was clear in his voice, the emptiness of his tone ringing like a gong. You frowned. If you were going to be awake, you had to do something. Your eyes fell onto the gear scattered at the foot of the opposite wall.

“I have a sabacc deck.” You tilted your head up at the ARC trooper.

“You’re on.” Fives snorted as he grinned down at you, the smile finally meeting his eyes.

Time crept on at a cruel pace. Too fast and too slow at the same time. The two of you had an unspoken agreement not to look at the indicators on Fives’ helmet. The mood was heavy, but you were grateful to be with Fives. You moved to sit across from him, a perfect little space for sabacc forming between the two of you. Fives discarded his armor, and you had unzipped the top half of your jumpsuit, tying its arms around your waist. Even still, the white tank top clung to you in the stifling heat of the cavern. The temperature aside, it almost could have been another night in the barracks, just the two of you outlasting his brothers as you stayed up too late, laughing and sharing secrets.

“You think the others are okay?” Your thoughts wandered to your friends. 

“Echo, Kix, and Rex are too smart to die, Jesse’s too stubborn, and Hardcase is too lucky.” Fives chuckled as he looked over his hand. “Fate’s already given up on killing ‘Case. Despite his best efforts. It’ll be some stupid hero move if he ever goes out.”

You laughed. Thinking that the rest of the squad was safe brought a little comfort, at least. Then you thought of how Fives had protected you during the fight. A hero.

“Like protecting civilian medic during a firefight?” The cards in front of you began to swim, and your eyes quickly found the cave's dirt floor. “You shouldn’t have helped me.”

“Don’t say that.” Fives frowned and tilted his head down so he could meet your gaze. “I would have been looking for shelter during that storm, no matter what. I always would have ended up here.”

Fives looked away, his attention back on the game as he cast the die. You quickly blinked, trying to clear your burning eyes. He swore at the numbers that came up. 

“Your turn,” He smiled at you. “And for the record, protecting you… I don’t regret it. Not for a second.” 

You sighed. Regrets. You had plenty, and now, the thought that maybe you had led Fives here to this fate was quickly climbing the list. It was more suffocating than the dwindling oxygen. Fives must have been able to see the shadow lingering over you.

“Hey,” He placed his cards to the side and patted the ground between his legs. “Come here.”

You climbed over Fives’ shins and settled yourself against his chest. You stared out into the darkness as Fives wrapped an arm around you, pulling you back into him. It was a little too warm to be comfortable, but you lifted a hand to his forearm and clung to him all the same.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been this close to Fives. All the clones were comfortable with you, hugging you, picking you up, teasing you like a sister. Fives was no different; it always made your crush that much harder. Even now, as death waited around the corner, your heart raced a little faster. You frowned at yourself, willing it to slow. As you tried to focus, you realized that you could feel his heartbeat where his chest pressed to your back. That didn’t help your own heart rate or your focus.

Finally, Fives broke the silence you didn’t realize had settled between you two.

“I wish I could’ve seen the end of it, you know?” His voice was quieter than you’d ever heard it.

“The end of what?” You asked, still staring out into the dark.

“The war. I’d like to give peace a try.” It was his turn to sigh. “I know they wouldn’t just let us go. There’s always another war to fight, but maybe… maybe I could’ve had a life too. Settle down, raise a family. Deploy when they need me but get to come back to a place that was home instead of just a different set of barracks. Maybe I could’ve had a chance to be more than just a number.”

You thought of the heart beating behind you. How alive he was. Fives always had been, and that zeal permeated everything he did. When it came down to it, that was why you fell in love with him. A number’s heart never beat like that.

“You’ve never been just a number.” You whispered, more to the darkness than to Fives. “Not to me.”

You settled further into his chest and closed your eyes. You could still feel the gentle rhythm of his heart between your shoulder blades. The idea that it would come to a stop in a few short hours was too much to bear. You reached for the hand that wasn’t holding you. You needed to feel its warmth. You pulled it into your chest, clasping his hands.

Then you felt his fingers lace through yours. You opened your eyes and looked over your shoulder to find Fives watching you.

Your heart stopped. Time slowed. You knew the gleam in his eyes. You’d always wanted him to look at you like that, like you were the only thing in the world. Right now, you supposed you were.

“Even after everything, you know what my only regret will be?” His breath was hot against your neck.

“What?” Your heart was racing again.

“I never got to kiss you.”

Before you could stop yourself, you let go of his forearm and reached for the collar of his compression top. You pulled him into you. Fives met your lips solidly, stunned and in shock. In the next moment, you felt him begin to melt into the kiss. His hunger quickly matched yours, and he slid his tongue over your lip, begging entrance. You let him in, the shock of your actions finally sparking within you as you savored his taste. 

No more regrets, a voice in the back of your head boomed, and a boldness suddenly came over you.

Never leaving his lips, you spun your torso to him and brought yourself to your knees, straddling his legs. He pulled you to his chest, deepening the kiss now that you were at a better angle. His goatee brushed your chin, a comforting reminder that this was real. It was really Fives kissing you. Your hands found his the back of his neck where you clung to him as Fives sealed his lips on yours. He wrapped one arm around your waist while the other hand cupped the back of your head, tilting you so he could taste every inch of your mouth. You sucked on his tongue, and Fives let out a small rumble that went straight to your core. His scent, a heady warmth with a hint of plasma, overwhelmed your senses. He was all you could breathe now, but you needed more. You wanted to feel him. You let your hands fall to his chest and pushed back, breaking the kiss.  He stared up at you, this kneeling position giving you the height advantage. His jaw was slack, and his brown eyes were dazed as you met his gaze. You reached for the hem of your white tank top and pulled it over your head, stripping it from your body, and tossed it aside. Fives leaned back as he gapped at you, stunned by your movement. You turned your attention to his clothing, tugging at the edge of his compression shirt.

“Wait, wait!” Fives’ hands met yours. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Your voice was firm as you watched him, unblinking.

He swallowed, his grip a little tighter on your hands. He wanted this too.

“We’re going….” His look kept getting pulled back to your lips. “We’re going to use up oxygen.”

“I don’t care.” Your eyes roved over his face. You had waited so long for this. If you were going to die, you wanted to do it by his lips. “Do you?”

“Kriff, no.” He half-growled, any reservations disappearing with your consent.

Everything became rushed. Each movement was faster than the next as you both raced against the clock. Fives released your hands, letting you strip the top from his form. You ran your hands back down over his muscled, tan chest.  Fives groaned at your touch before he tugged at your waist, pulling you back into his lips. You gripped his powerful bicep in one hand while the other found its way to his curls, tugging gently at the short hair and earning a moan from Fives. His broad fingertips dug at your bare skin, needy and wanting. He ran his hands over your ribs and under your binder, grazing the sensitive skin underneath your breasts. Then, he traced his way downward. His hands snuck under the fabric of your jumpsuit and made their way over the curve of your legs and around to your backside, kneading at your flesh as he pulled you closer to him still. You felt him harden beneath you. He left your lips to kiss along your jaw before he found a spot on your neck. He sucked and nipped, sending a shiver that traveled from your pulse point down to the pooling heat in the pit of your stomach. You wished you had more time. 

You didn’t, though. Even now, the invisible timer ticked away in the back of your head. You moved to squat so you could strip your jumpsuit from your lower half. Fives held you up, his strong hands gripping under your arms as you struggled with the fabric. In sloppy movements, you finally pulled the jumpsuit and underwear from your legs. Fives quickly wrapped you back into him as soon as possible. Your kiss was frenzied now. His hands traveled up and down your body, caressing every inch of your skin he could reach as he swept his fingertips over you in a hurried march. They returned to your binder, where they lingered for a moment. Fives traced your pert nipples through the fabric, the friction teasing your sensitive skin, but after letting out a small huff in your mouth, he moved on. The timer was clearly ticking for him too. Fives found his true target as his hand trailed downward and made its way between you. He paused at your soaking opening only for a moment, tracing your tight ring of muscle just enough to tease you before he quickly slid a warm finger home.

His lips moved back to your neck as you snapped your hips against his hand. He added a second finger and sank deeper, meeting your movements. It wasn’t long before he found your sweet, spongy spot and pumped his hand against it, pulling moans and mews from your lips. His thumb came to your clit, teasing small circles around your sweet mound until you were putty in his hands.

“Just fuck me already.” You begged.

“Oh, mesh’la.” He nipped at your ear.

It was a promise. Fives pulled his fingers from you and reached for the hem of his body glove. He pulled it down, revealing his hardened length, veiny and thick with want. He took himself in his hand, smearing your slick over it as he stroked himself. You raised yourself up over him. He slotted himself against your entrance before he looked up at you. You met his eyes as you both paused for a beat. Fives looked like he still wanted to say something to you, but after a moment, he just surged forward and captured your mouth with his once more.

“Fives.”

You sunk down onto him as you gasped his name against his lips. He pushed against your walls as he entered you, reaching every corner, the pressure making your head swim. You clawed at his chest as you sank to the hilt, any pain turning quickly to pleasure. He gripped your waist, a sharp breath leaving him as he waited for you to adjust.

“Fuck,” He muttered. His hips twitched beneath you as he battled with his body to give you a moment to recover. “You feel incredible.”

“I need to move, please.” You pleaded with him as you reached for his shoulders.

You began to ride him, lifting yourself up and sinking down, letting his cock fill you up again and again. He raised up to meet you with every movement, turning you into a babbling mess as you came apart on his cock. His hand found your clit again.

His thumb refused to slow as it drew wave after wave of bliss from you. Fives’ eyes watched the place where you came together, staring as he stretched you out with every rolling movement. Soon, you felt yourself being pulled to the brink. You let your head fall into his neck.

“I’m so close.” You mumbled against his skin.

“Look at me.” His lips were pressed against your ear as he begged.

You opened your eyes and lifted your head to meet his eyes. I love you, you wanted to say, but you held back. Instead, you tried to tell him with your eyes and prayed he heard you. You wanted him to feel loved. His eyes burned back at you, meeting you with all the want and need you felt for him. 

White spots formed behind your vision, and you began to shake. Fives snapped his hips upward, pushing you over the edge and sending you plummeting into your orgasm. He followed quickly afterward, cumming with three final thrusts as he filled you up.

You collapsed into his chest, letting your head fall to his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around you as he softened within you. You were both slick with sweat, but neither of you moved as you tried to catch your breath. You wondered for a moment if you would, and as Fives’ grip dug a little deeper into your arms, you had a feeling that he was wondering the same thing. But eventually, your breathing slowed, and your eyes started to flutter close.

You felt Fives lift you up and slip out of you, tucking himself back into his blacks. Then, he came back to you,  helping you tug your jumpsuit back on. You frowned at the sudden space between you. Part of you wanted to protest, but even in your hazy bliss, you knew it made sense. If anyone ever did find your bodies, it would be better not to be naked. When you were both dressed, you laid down on the blanket again and pulled him down next to you. Fives let you tug him close as both of you fought sleep just a little longer. You knew you would wake up shortly, clutching your chest and struggling for air. You knew you would both die gasping in stunned breaths. But for now, you were almost happy. His arms wrapped around you, and Fives placed one last kiss on the top of your head. You pressed your ear to his chest and let yourself fall into a final sleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

Air came rushing back into your lungs. You choked and coughed on the sudden stream. Your eyes shot open at the sudden rush. A familiar, unmistakable face swam in front of you.

“Rex?” You croaked.

You didn’t recognize your own voice, hoarse and broken. Rex, leaning over you, frowned at your effort. 

“Shhh,” He quickly hushed you. “We’ve got you. Hang in there, ad’ika.”

He reached down, hoisting you up into his arms. The world behind him glowed, and somewhere, dimly in the back of your mind, you slowly formed one word, Sun. Sun, air, Rex. You were saved. Where was Fives, though?

You started to panic. Fives. You wriggled in Rex’s arms.

“Hey, hey!” He warned as he tried to hold on to you.

 “Fives.” You croaked again.

“He’s okay,” Rex assured you, pulling you tighter to him. “Echo’s got him.”

Fives was safe. You stopped wiggling. The darkness crept in again, and you let it take you.

You spent the trip back to Coruscant drifting in and out of consciousness as you floated in a hyperbaric chamber. Nothing was around you. Only a benevolent darkness and your soothed subconscious. Some part of you knew this was supposed to feel peaceful, but something in you was still restless. Even nirvana didn’t feel as peaceful as Fives’ arms had.

Consciousness finally crept up on you in the medbay. Unlike the cave, you knew where you were the moment you opened your eyes. You instantly recognized the sterile walls, the bright lights, and the stiff, scratchy fabric of the patient gowns. And if those weren’t enough clues, the face that soon bobbed over you would have been.

“What the fuck?” Kix prodded at you, poking your shoulder with an outstretched finger as he appeared next to your hospital bed.

“Is this always your bedside manner?” You groaned as you pushed yourself up on your arms, decidedly tired of waking up like this. “No wonder I’m the favorite medic.”

“Like hell you are.” Kix grinned as he waved his fingers in front of your face, starting your second neuro exam of the day. “Besides, this bedside manner is reserved for my civilian medic who tried real hard to die on me.”

“What a bitch.” You sighed as you leaned back into the thin mattress, closing your eyes.

“No kidding,” Kix huffed as he continued your assessment.

You let him feel your pulses and shine a light in your eyes as you drifted off with your thoughts. You were alive. That should be a good thing; underneath, you knew it was. But there was an empty feeling like you had left something in the cave, and it was gone forever. Like it had slipped through your hands. Despite your best efforts, you found your thoughts drifting toward Fives.

Fives. Even his name made your skin crawl now. You practically had thrown yourself at him. For years, you had been able to keep your feelings for him separate from your relationship with him. It was one thing to sleep with him if it was the last thing you ever did. But now you had lived, and you couldn’t take it back. Fives would know now, and when you saw him next, there would be nowhere to hide. 

Finally, Kix was satisfied you were well enough to leave the medbay. He pointed out a pile of clothes that Echo had collected for you and turned to go so you could have some privacy. Before he pulled the door shut across, Kix paused.

“Glad you’re here, ad’ika.” 

You smiled back at the medic, the empty feeling abating just a little. You were alone with your thoughts, but the familiar beeps and alarms of the medbay machinary brought you some comfort. You focused to the squeaky orchestra as you slowly dressed.  You had just pulled your shirt in when there was a knock on the door. 

“Come on in.” You called, trying to think what test Kix could possibly have forgotten.

Instead, Fives opened the door. Your jaw and your heart dropped as you met his brown eyes. 

“Hey, mesh’la.” 

His usual nickname made your stomach twist. Panic threatened to overwhelm you as your heart began to race. You felt your lungs begin to heave again, desperate for more oxygen as your body readied to run. He stayed in the doorway, the space between you both too much and not enough all at once. Your eyes traveled up and down him, clad once again in his armor. There was no softness. Nothing you could cling to anymore. Breathe, you reminded yourself. 

“Hey.” You tried to smile at him but your mouth refused.

“Just wanted to check on you.” He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, eyes roving around the room.

“I’m good.” You watched him, trying to read his every move, but there was nothing. No hints of what he was feeling or, worse, what he was thinking. Breathe. “You?”

“Yeah.” That sideways smile flickered over his face for an instant and then it was gone. “Good as new.”

Silence settled between you, almost as suffocating as the cavern. Breathe. 

“So we made it.” Fives finally spoke, his look finally finding yours.

“Yeah,” you shifted under his stare. Breathe.

Fives opened his mouth, but a long beep cut him off. He looked down at the comm on his wrist and groaned.

“I gotta take this.” 

“Of course.” You nodded, flashing him a smile that you imagined probably looked more like a grimace.

He nodded before he vanished, ducking out of the door quicker than he had appeared. You dropped back into the cot with a groan. You suddenly wanted to crawl back into the hyperbaric chamber and slip back into the abyss.

Instead, the cruiser made it to Coruscant, and you were able to busy yourself with work. As soon as the landing ship let you out and onto the base, you threw yourself into the medical supplies. You sorted and restocked for hours, ignoring Rex and then Coric when they each tried to stop you in turn.

You were kneeling on the ground, restocking one of the med kits that the clones kept in their barracks, when the lid snapped shut, nearly catching your fingers as it came down.

You glared upwards to find Jesse grinning down at you. Kix stood beside him, arms crossed.

“You‘re coming out.” Kix’s tone was stern. It was the tone he usually reserved for delivering bad medical news. “Doctor’s orders.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Jesse quickly cut you off.

“Come on,” Jesse nodded towards the door. “We’re all going to 79’s, and we’re not taking no for an answer.”

“Sorry, no is the only answer I’ve got.” You reached to flip the lid back open on the kit, but Kix’s boot beat you to the top, sealing it shut with his weight.

“Just come before we have to unleash more cruel tactics.” Jesse quipped.

“You mean the two of you get more annoying?” You glared at them, but there was no bite behind it.

They glanced at each other and grinned. They had won, and they knew it.

79’s was crowded. Your head throbbed with the bass, remnants of the concussion that you and Kix had a mutual, unspoken agreement to ignore tonight. But it was proving harder than you had hoped. Beyond the music and the flashing lights, the men you came with weren’t helping, despite your affection for their enthusiasm. They all crowded you and Fives into a back booth where they were whooping and hollering at a near-constant rate. Each soldier took turns slapping you on the back and offering to buy you a drink. You smiled at every one of them in turn and thanked them, but you stuck to sipping on water.

You had decided to be sober tonight for a few reasons. The concussion was one of them. The other was across the table, Echo’s arm slung over his shoulder. Echo, who had refused to let Fives stray more than arm’s reach away from him, told the story of how he had been able to triangulate your location based on the maps from the mission briefing and, when he saw the rock wall, knew what had happened. It had taken General Skywalker thirty minutes to get the equipment to the mountainside, and the hot-headed Jedi had apparently fumed the entire time. Then, when the droids moved the rocks from the cave entrance, they were able to pull you out and from the brink of death.

You tried your best to smile at Echo while he recounted. It was proving hard, though, because you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at Fives. To your left, Hardcase leaned across you to whisper to Jesse and Coric.

“We need to get him laid.” He giggled conspiratorially as he glanced at the ARC and then back to his brothers.

“We need to get them both laid.” Jesse elbowed you.

“Nothing like ‘I’m still alive’ sex.” Coric nodded firmly.

Jesse raised a glass. 

“I’ll toast to that!” He smirked, and Hardcase joined them.

The drink sloshed out of their glasses and down the front of your jumpsuit. As it darkened, you remembered the blood. Suddenly nauseous, you jumped from your seat. The clones stared up at you with wide apologetic eyes. Then they all spoke at once.

“Kriff,” Hardcase swore as he tried to signal a droid for a towel.

“Here,” Jesse grabbed for all the napkins he could reach on the table.

“Sorry, sorry!” Coric apologized.

“It’s fine.” You pushed Jesse’s hands away as he tried to dab up the liquid. You turned to Hardcase and nodded to him to let you out of the booth.

He quickly jumped up, still profusely swearing inbetween sincere apologies. You brushed him off as you made for the fresher.

Quickly, you found a hand dryer to dry off your clothes. You glanced in the mirror to inspect the outfit. It was an old jumpsuit you wouldn’t miss if whatever acrid liquor they were drinking wouldn’t come out of it. It wasn’t the stain that caught your eye, though. Instead, you were caught off guard by the sour look on your face. No wonder they were trying to cheer you up, you thought. You didn’t look like someone who had just survived a near-death experience. You looked like someone who had just been sentenced to death.

You sighed. Tonight was a lost cause. You should sneak out now, you decided, and comm Jesse and Kix with an apology later. Coric and Hardcase, too, probably. Tomorrow would be a better day. You just needed time. 

You left the fresher, a sense of hope creeping in for the first time in hours. It fled the moment you stepped back into the bar.

“Hey, I was coming to look for you.”

You stared slackjawed at Fives. He had somehow managed to escape Echo’s grip and was waiting outside the fresher. Clad only in armor from the waist down, and his compression top rolled up to reveal his forearms, he looked even more handsome than usual in the muted, neon light. A sheepish grin danced on his lips. Your heart skipped a beat, and you cursed yourself. Even after everything, you couldn’t shake how you felt.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but a different voice boomed over the music, calling out both of your names.

“What are you two doing back here?” Hardcase sprung on you and threw an arm over your shoulder.

“We were just saying we need to get you two laid!” Hardcase wrapped his other arm around Fives, pulling you both into him. “Nothing like ‘We’re still alive’ sex!”

“Not as good as ‘We’re going to die’ sex.” Fives let out a half-laugh as his eyes slid around Hardcase to meet yours.

You choked. 

You had to leave now. You would have to transfer. Quit. Go AWOL. You didn��t know what you were going to do, but right now, you needed to leave this bar.

“I’ll see you guys at the table.” You said as you slipped out from under Hardcase’s arm.

You scurried through the club, skirting the bar and dashing for the door, desperately avoiding the eyes of any well-meaning clones that stepped out of your way, afraid you might find a pair that would try to stop your flight. 

The cool, Coruscant night air filled your lungs as you gasped, your body still seeking more oxygen. You wondered if that feeling would ever go away. As you tried to catch your breath, you glanced around. The platform outside the club was empty, and there was no air taxi in sight. You sighed and dialed a comm. Then you heard your name. 

“Are you running away?”

The voice was unmistakable. It might haunt you for the rest of your life. You closed your eyes, trapping the tears that suddenly welled up behind your eyelids.

“Just leave me alone, Fives.”

He called your name again. His voice was closer this time. Then you felt a hand come to rest on your shoulder. You stepped away from his grasp before you spun to face him. 

In the wide open platform, Fives looked small for the first time you could remember. His chest was rising and falling quickly like he had run out to catch you. You would have to transfer, you decided at that moment. There was no other way out of this. For either of you. 

“Why did you run away?” 

“Because this isn’t a joke, Fives.” You snapped at him as you took another step backward. You turned your gaze towards the city skyline as the next words spilled out of you before you could stop them. “That wasn’t We’re-going-to-die sex for me. I have feelings for you. I spent a long time ignoring it, but now, I can’t anymore, and I… I don’t know what to do.”

“How long have you had feelings for me?”

“Since I joined the 501st.” You sighed, still not looking at him. “What does it matter?”

“You really have feelings for me?” He asked.

“Is that your only takeaway here?” You could have screamed in frustration, but instead, your tone was quiet and defeated. 

“It’s the only one I need.” 

You let yourself look back at Fives just as he broke into a wide grin. Before you could ask what he meant, Fives reached out and wrapped a hand around your wrist. He tugged you to him, pulling you back into your arms. You barely had a moment to be shocked before he kissed you.

There was nothing hurried about this kiss. When his full lips met yours, he moved against you slowly and sensually. His hand found the back of your head again, and he tilted you up to him as he parted your lips and met your tongue with slow, languid licks. He moved to you cheek and then your jawline where he trailed along with soft, sweet kisses until he found your ear. 

“I’m sorry I joked.” He whispered against your skin. “I’ve loved you for a long time, and I thought I’d messed it all up. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I love you too, Fives.” You were breathless as you whispered back. 

You barely had time to notice that it was a different kind of breathless, one of excess rather than deficit. You threw your arms around his shoulders as you found his lips once more. Instead of death waiting at the end of the kiss, it was the rest of your life. 

By the time you got to your apartment, your jumpsuit was half unzipped, and lipstick was smeared across Fives’ face. Neither of you cared as you stumbled through the doorway and into the bedroom. 

You tugged at your zipper, desperate to strip the fabric from your body. When you finally freed yourself and let it pool on the ground around your ankles, you realized Fives wasn’t wrapped around you anymore. You spun, only to find him watching you from the doorway. A soft smile played on his lips. Peace settled across his brow. You couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hurry up, get your armor off and kriff me already.” You teased as you sat on the bed, patting the mattress next to you.

He chuckled as he stepped towards you. Then he paused, bending down to remove one of his shin plates and then the other. He moved slowly, like a man with all the time in the world. You felt excitement pulsing through you as you waited. Anticipation had every cell in your body vibrating as you waited for his touch.

Finally, stripped down to his body suit, he crossed the room in two strides until he towered over you. You felt your mouth fall open just a little as you looked up at him.

“No,” He brought a knuckle to your chin, winking as he closed your mouth. “This time, I’m going to take my time with you.” 

He dropped the knuckle to your chest and pushed you over with one gentle finger. You fell softly back into the bed, your legs hanging off the edge. Staring up at your ceiling, you didn’t have time to wonder at his plan before you felt two strong palms pushing your knees apart. You looked down to see Fives fall to his knees next to the bed. A hungry look danced in his eye. His fingers wrapped around the elastic of your underwear, and you lifted up your rear enough for him to strip your panties from you. Your head fell back as you exhaled.

Fives’ lips began to ghost over your legs. The breath that skated across your body seemed to steal the one on your lips. He nipped and licked at the sensitive skin as he moved up from your knees to your inner thighs. You shivered, and your hips started to wiggle as you ached for his touch where you needed it most.

“Patience, mesh’la.” Fives whispered, his words hovering above your throbbing core.

Finally, his tongue met your center as he licked one long stripe along your lower lips. You let out a desperate moan at the attention. Your eyes fell to meet his just as he chuckled at your reaction. He flashed a smile at you before he turned back to the sight before him. He began to trace long, slow circles around your entrance, making you clench around the emptiness. His nose grazed over your clit, sending a shudder through your body and pulling another moan from your lips. Satisfied with the withering mess you had become from his teasing, Fives sunk his tongue into you. He began to lick and suck in a frenzy, groaning as he tasted you. His attention worked you quickly to the brink. He sank two fingers into your slick entrance, curling them until you cried out and came, spasming around him. 

When the raptureous swell subsided, you lifted yourself up to your elbows to be greeted by Fives stripping his compression suit from his body. Finally naked, he grinned down at you with your arousal still shining in his facial hair. In an unspoken agreement, you both paused, taking the time to admire the other person. Time you didn’t get before. Muscled, broad, and covered in scattered scars and tattoos, you’d seen Fives without his shirt before. Even before your moment in the cave, you’d personally patched up more than a few of those wounds. But that didn’t stop him from taking your breath away now. Your eyes skated over his bronze form before falling to his erect, hardened length. He was weeping, having teased himself as much as he teased you. You looked back up to meet Fives’ eyes. His gaze met yours. They were shining.

“Now, will you kriff me already?” You smirked at him.

“I can’t wait another second.” He rasped.

You moved up to find the head of the bed as he clambered next to you. He moved over you in the next motion, caging you into the mattress. His honey eyes bored into yours for a moment before he leaned down and captured you in another kiss. You met his lips with a fury, tasting yourself on his tongue. You sighed into his mouth as you felt him slot against your entrance. Slowly, he sank into you, the stretch just as overwhelming as before. Your breath hitched in your throat, and Fives paused. He pulled away, watching your face as he slid back out from you before sinking in again. He continued in slow and measured movements, thrusting in and out until he was pulling moans from you with every roll of his hips. Your hand wrapped around his neck and found purchase in his curls as you looked for anything to hold on to. His breath became heavy and thick in your ear as he muttered praises.

“You feel so good.” He groaned. “My good girl. You- you have no idea... Wanted this so badly.”

His words made you clench around him, and he swore at the vice grip of your warmth. He began to move with a fury, and one hand fell to where your bodies met and found your sensitive nub. He began to draw slow circles around your swollen mound. Your arms fell to the sheets, digging into the fabric at the sensation, still overstimulated from his earlier attentions. You angled your hips up, meeting every thrust of his with one of your own. The new angle let him sink even further into you, bringing new depths of ecstasy. His circles around your clit quickened. 

You began to shake as Fives brought you to the edge. Then, with a cry of his name, you stiffened as another orgasm washed over you. He returned your cry with one of his own as he finished inside you. He collapsed into your neck as he buried himself to the hilt one last time.

Fives rolled over, pulling you with him. You curled up, laying your head on his chest. You felt the thudding pulse of his heart against your ear. Without thinking, you raised a hand to his chest and began to tap one finger along with the beat. Lub, dub. Lub, dub. A tiny snort met your ears. You raised your eyes up to meet Fives’ bright stare.

“What are you doing, mesh’la?” He smiled down at you, the old nickname ringing with a different meaning now. 

“It… I just needed to feel it. Hear it.” You breathed in rhythm with its gentle drumming. “I needed to know it was still beating.”

“It is.” Fives captured your hand in his and pressed to his chest. “For you. Always for you.”

You looked up at him with glassy eyes. He kissed your forehead before he leaned back into the pillow. As sleep took you, you listened to the cadence of his heartbeat with a smile on your lips.

[brrmian]

Hello! Congrats on 500!!!! 🎉🎊If it's ok, may I please have 36, 39, and 48 on the Hurt/Comfort list with Commander Wolffe?

#36: "Stop telling me you're fine."

#39: "Just keep pressure on it."

#48: "Because I care about you!"

Thanks so much! ❤️😍

PS. If you think these prompts would go better with another clone, feel free to do them instead! And don't feel pressured to include all 3 quotes if you can't make them fit!

hi @arctrooper69! thanks so much for your request, i think these prompts go really well with wolffe :)

warning: some graphic descriptions of injury and blood /prompts are closed!

It hurts to breathe.

You can hear your breath coming in painful, ragged bursts.

The sounds of blasterfire and artillery cannons rage around you. You’re leaning against a supply crate towards the edge of the battlefield, sheltered by a crashed LAAT/i that’s broken beyond repair.

And the Commander of the 104th Battalion is leaning over you, sheltering you with his body and desperately trying to bandage your wound.

“Wolffe—” you groan softly, placing a bloodstained hand on his wrist. “Wolffe, I’m fine, just let the medics handle it—you have to go back—”

“Stop telling me you’re fine,” Wolffe growls, ripping open yet another package of bacta-soaked gauze. He presses it to the jagged gash of crimson on your upper abdomen, making you hiss as pain racks your body. “You’re not fine.”

“I’ve had worse. Trust me,” you breathe, drawing in a shaky breath. “Wolffe, you need to go help your men.”

Your hand is still on Wolffe’s wrist, tightly gripping his vambrace. The plastioid armor, normally bright white with streaks of grey paint, is stained with your blood.

You watch as Wolffe’s cybernetic eye clicks and whizzes softly. He studies you with a deep frown, one hand still pressing the bandage to your abdomen. Your tunic is rolled up, and your armour has been tossed aside.

Your medpack, which you had brought with you as you ran across the battlefield to help injured troopers, is in Wolffe’s free hand.

Wolffe closes his eyes for a brief moment. You can tell he’s angry—this isn’t the first time he’s scolded you for making reckless decisions. You’re not a Jedi, he would hiss. Stop being so self-sacrificing.

It’s my job! you would protest. I was hired by the GAR to save people, wasn’t I?

When Wolffe opens his eyes, he looks calmer, but you know there’s frustration still bubbling under the surface of his façade. He sighs. “Okay,” he says, voice low. “Okay, stay here, alright? And keep—”

“—keep pressure on it, I know,” you finish as Wolffe removes his hand so you can replace it with your own. The pain is blinding, but you press your palm down harder, gritting your teeth. “Go, Wolffe.”

He doesn’t move. You try to mimic the stern expression he so often gives you, but Wolffe stays where he is.

“You sure you’re alright?” He asks, voice clipped. “It’s against regulations to lie to your commander. Don’t make me regret this.”

You nod, rolling your eyes. “Yes, I’m sure,” you admonish. “I’m the medic here, Commander. I can handle myself.”

Wolffe says nothing, still looking doubtful. Resisting the urge to wince as the sound of a cannon going off sounds from not far away, you place your free hand on his shoulder pauldron.

“You have nothing to worry about.” In spite of yourself, you try your best to smirk through the pain. “I don’t know why you’re putting in so much effort to help this lowly civilian medic, anyway.”

In the haze of your pain, you think you hear Wolffe mumbling something, but you can’t hear his voice over the sounds of blasterfire.

“What?” you ask, hoping you aren’t grimacing too badly from the pain.

“I said,” Wolffe forces out, meeting your eyes with and expression not quite as stern as his usual glare, “It’s because I care about you.”

You blink, trying not to show your surprise.

“Well, then,” you say smugly, trying to ignore the horrible feeling of blood soaking your underclothes, “best get back into the field. If you really cared, you’d have ended this battle already… Commander.”

Wolffe has already shoved on his helmet. He’s unreadable again, but when he takes your hand and sets it back down on his lap, there’s something tender in the way he touches you.

It’s only after he runs back into the fray of battle that you realize how warm your face is.

[clownery-and-fuckery]

Can we mix numbers for the prompts? I’m really feeling 2 and 15. I don’t even care who you hurt.

Of course!! Perfect excuse to write some QUALITY Nemec, Fireball and Howzer. Thank you for this one >:]

Prompts:

"Someone get the medic. Get the medic!" "This is going to hurt, okay?"

Warning: gore/blood

Please enjoy >:]

A mission is a mission.

Howzer stood at the entrance, ready for anything. Nemec, Fireball and Rex was inside. Rex would keep them on target, Rex would get them out. All Howzer needed to do was wait, and clear their exit.

A mission is a mission, until the screaming starts. Howzer sprints in, terrified for what he'll find.

Fireball's kneeling on the floor, hyperventilating under his helmet. Beside him, Rex tries to ground the troopers, one hand gripping Fireball's shoulder, the other holding Nemec's hand tight.

And laying between them, Nemec screams. Almost wailing as he thrashes under them, sobbing and begging for them to "Get it out! Please, please get it out—!"

Then Howzer sees it. The sharp, jagged chunk of durasteel that's sticking out of his brother's side. It's dripping blood, the thick liquid black against his armour as Nemec cries.

Rex is there, whispering words of encouragement, hushing the younger clone. Nemec responds with gasped demands for the pain to stop.

Nemec's cries snap Howzer into action as he snatches his comm and shouts into it. "Samson!" He barks. "Someone get the medic. Get the medic!"

"Howzer?" Fireball looks over as the ex-captain sits down, listening for his comm. "I don't know what happened, we were just doing the data extract like normal—"

"Rex," Howzer interrupts, holding the bar steady, much to the displeasure of Nemec. "Where's our evac?"

"Two minutes." Rex grounds out, helping him as best as he can. Nemec's breath hitches, and he grips Rex's hand all the tighter, crying out.

Howzer's heart breaks. "I know," He whispers, pressing his forehead to Nemec's sweaty temple. "I know, vod, it's okay. Just a bit longer."

"Howzer," Samson's voice is clear on the other end of the comm. "We're inbound. Status?"

Howzer takes a small breath. "Nemec's down. Projectile, it's sticking out of his side," He checks Nemec over briefly. "Nothing major's been hit, just excessive bleeding."

A swear over the comm. "You need to get it out," Samson instructs. "We can stabilise him, but we can't risk infection. You need to get it out."

"Howzer?" Nemec's words slur together, sniffling as he watched the ex-captain's face twists.

A mission is a mission. Until Howzer is knelt beside his younger brother, worried he won't pull through on what needs to happen. Until he's sure he'll puke from indecision. Nemec's life is in their hands. That makes the decision for him.

He takes a deep breath, looking to Rex. "We need to take it out." Howzer explains slowly, carefully cupping the back of Nemec's sweat slicked head. "We have to take it out before the evac gets here to avoid infection."

Rex and Fireball nod, knowing what needs to happen. Nemec, despite begging for that very thing through tears moments ago, stiffens, pulling a wince from him.

"This is going to hurt, okay?" Howzer speaks gently, and Nemec nods, squeezing Rex's hand as he breathes through his nose.

"Okay." He says, trying to stay strong. Or at least, seem like he was. "Okay, ready."

He wasn't. Neither was Howzer.

He nodded to Rex and Fireball, who secured Nemec in place. Howzer grasped the jutted durasteel, and he gave a quick, harsh tug.

Nemec let out a shriek. Panicked, Rex shoved a piece of cloth into the clones mouth, watching Nemec whimper as he bit down weakly.

"I know," Howzer whispers hoarsely, gripping the durasteel tighter. "You're doing great, it's okay, one more alright? Then I'm done."

Nemec almost sobs again. "One more," Howzer promises, and with one more rough pull, the shrapnel is yanked out of Nemec's side.

Howzer threw it to the side carelessly. "Nemec?" His whisper is strained. "Nemec? Can you hear me?"

The grip in Rex's hand has gone lax, the cloth falls from Nemec's mouth. His eyes have rolled back, and his head is cushioned only by Fireball's knees.

He's pale, greying quickly. Howzer surged forward and presses his hands to the wound. The action doesn't pull any reaction from the clone beneath him.

A mission is a mission until all they can do is hold him there till the evac comes. Howzer holds him long after.

[elisemscott1122]

List of Different Types of Mandalorian Helmets&Armor and Facts:

* All Mandalorian Armor was made of Beskar, steel that cannot be harmed by blaster bolts or cut by lightsabers

* Some Mandalorians wore capes with their armor (Boba Fett and Pre Viszla)

* Some helmets had rangefinders attached (Boba Fett and Sabine Wren).

* Some Mandalorians had jetpacks, including Din Djarin and Boba Fett

* Weapons can also include Vanbraces (Such as Fenn Rau gives to Sabine Wren in Rebels)

* A specific weapon to note is Whistling Birds, given to Mando by the Armorer

* Another weapon to note is the Beskar Spear from the Mandalorian.

* The Darksaber goes without stating as THE weapon of Mandalorian culture.

* Mandalorian Hunter

* Classic Mandalorian Helmet Style (T-Visor)

- Boba Fett

- Din Djarin (the Mandalorian)

- Jango Fett

* Death Watch Mandalorian (Clone Wars Era)

* Mandalorian Stalker

* Mandalorian Crusaders

* Neo Crusaders

- organic, jagged form armor

* Mandalorian Executioner

* Mandalorian Elite

* Power tech Mandalorian

* Protectors of Concord Dawn

- Fenn Rau

* Children of the Watch (Death Watch)

- Din Djarin (the Mandalorian)

- The Armorer

- Paz Vizsla

- Ragnar

- Din Grogu

* Imperial Supercommandos

- not made of Beskar due to the weapon known as the “Duchess” created by Sabine Wren, which targets the Beskar armor

- White armor

* Nite Owl Style helmet:

- Bo-Katan Kryze

- Koska Reeves

- Axe Woves

- Sabine Wren (hand me down)

* Nite Owls:

- Bo-Katan Kryze

- Koska Reeves

- Axe Woves

- Ursa Wren

* Pilot Mandalorian

* Assassin Mandalorian

* Modern Mandalorian

* Heavy Infantry Mandalorian:

- Paz Vizsla

* Mandalorian Shock Trooper

* New Mandalorian Guard

- Clone Wars era, under Satine Kryze

* Mandalorian Royal Guard

- Clone Wars Era, serve Satine Kryze

* Custom helmet designs:

- Pre Viszla

- The Armorer

- Fenn Rau

- Moff Gideon

* Imperial allegiances:

- Saxon Clan including Gar and Tiber Saxon

- Moff Gideon wore Mandalorian armor but wasn’t Mandalorian

Attributes of Mandalorian Armor used in other types of armor include:

- Clone Armor

- Imperial Stormtrooper Armor

- First Order Trooper Armor

- The Emperors Royal Guard Armor

- ARC Trooper Armor

- Praetorian Guard Armor

Mandalorians that wore Kama’s:

- Goran Beviin

- Fi Skirata

- Isabet Reau

Clone Troopers also wore Kama’s sometimes, including Captain Rex.

[totallycorrectjediorderquotes]

Wolffe: I truly hate it here.

Boost: Now replace “it” with women. Not so funny now is it

Warthog: Now replace “it” with women. Not so funny now is women

Sinker: Now replace “funny” with it. Not so it now women?

Jag: I’m having a fucking stroke.

Comet: Replace “stroke” with baby. Congratulations!

[veny-many]

Imagining Jag's though in canon be like

Jag: My peoples were dying, and there was no chance for us when that too many droids ambushed us, I made my choice and we retreated. They disappointed of me and demoted me from commander to captain, but I do not regret anything. What makes me disturbed is the fact that I will never get a chance to fly the sky. It was my favorite.

Plo: I totally agree with your decision. Your lives matters, and you did right thing. And I'm proud of your brave choice. Now if you don't mind will you accept the position of test pilot for new starfighers? I heard you're good at flying. :)

Jag:

Jag: (sobbing) YES

Wolffe: I know that feeling brother. I know.

(Many time passed...)

Jag: My life is perfect. I'm flying on my new fancy starfighter and along with the great general Plo Koon as his wingman. And republic is marching to glory, I'm feeling that this war is finally reaching end. Once we finish this sweeping...

???: Execute order 66

Jag: (casually open fires to his general)

Jag:

Jag: (MY LIFE IS MEANINGLESS)

[purgetrooperfox]

🙏Doth thou have eine liste of your OCs??? So we may ask questions about them?? bitte

I don't,,,, YET but this did give me a kick in the ass to put together a decently comprehensive one (bc I've been meaning to for ages)

if tumblr's search functionality works at all, I do tag all of my oc posts here and on ao3 as follows 💃 idk how populated these tags are but they're the ocs I think about the most

#leocs - is my catch all oc tag

this is my ao3 collection of fics featuring my ocs

star wars ⬇️

#clone medic nocte - is my most developed oc, he is corrie guard cmo

#arc trooper uj'alayi - he is arc trooper, he is mostly corrie guard but I also throw him at the shadows

#bastra vargdan - he is jedi investigator, he absorbed so much of my personality that he's almost a self insert

#lān'drien "lane" hurosa - they are journalist on coruscant

#clone commander bones - he is commander under bastra, he is severely underdeveloped

cyberpunk ⬇️

#desmond "eyes" gallagher - he is ripperdoc for maelstrom

call of duty ⬇️

#atama "nocte" te rangi - he is nocte starwars transplanted into cod, he is field medic with tf141

mortal kombat ⬇️

#danver "jag" hakka - he fell in with the black dragon and may or may not have a redemption arc, he mostly lives in my gdocs drafts

[themonopolyhat]

clone banter snippet

a deleted scene from the end of No wealth, no ruin, no silver, no gold, because i still like this dialogue even though i decided not to include it in the final version of the fic.

featuring the 212th’s finest off-duty, which should be its own warning.  very soft pre-codywan vibes if you squint.  troopers auks and rags belong to @shootingstarpilot. 

+++

“Work on your after-action if you need something to do,” Waxer tells him, handing over a single data pad.  “Or get your ass kicked at cards. There’s a couple new decks with dirty artwork.”

Because he is their actual commanding officer and it's expected of him, Cody gives Waxer a vaguely unimpressed look.  Waxer ignores it and drops a pillow in his lap.

“Zeltron artwork?” Wooley asks, hopeful.

“Hutt artwork,” Gearshift snickers.  “Real nasty stuff.”

Sitting cross-legged near Cody and working a comb through his voluminous hair, Auks scrunches up his face.  “There's something seriously wrong with you, man.”

“Some long-neck got drunk and pissed in his tube,” Peel drawls from a few bunks away, otherwise absorbed in his pad.  “I saw the records on Kamino.”

“I want to report a superior officer for spreading malicious slander about my tube,” Gearshift says plaintively to the air.

One of his squaddies snorts.  “Reporting chain starts with the sarge, trooper.”

“Your sergeant doesn't care, trooper,” another voice pipes up cheerfully, further away.

“Neither does your lieutenant,” said lieutenant volunteers.

“Or your captain,” adds Captain Peel.

“I'm transferring to a different company,” Gearshift says.

Another squadmate laughs outright.  “Maybe Ranphyx or Cataclysm has a stash of Hutt holos—”

“It was a kriffing joke, I'm not actually into kriffing Hutts—!”

“But are you into Hutts kriffing, that's the question—”

Squabbling ensues.

Cody leans back against his pillows, head tipped back, eyes closed, and listens a while.  His feet tuck under the edge of someone's blanket. Waxer is directly to his left, warm and solid.  Auks is nearby, swearing at his hair.  The faint scent of Rags' latest hooch drifts by once in a while.

The edges of the world are softened, somehow.  It's easier to breathe. Those jagged things in Cody's chest aren't gone, but they feel a little duller.  Less likely to reach up and rip his throat out.

Obi-Wan is alive.

“Eyes on the general?” he murmurs to Waxer.

Waxer hums affirmatively.  “Boil and Longshot.  He's meditating up on the observation deck.”

Memory washes over Cody.  He's found Obi-Wan meditating there so many times before, oriented toward the enormous windows, breathing slow and measured.  Sometimes he hovers off the deck.  Sometimes he blinks his eyes open and looks over with a smile.

Hello, Cody.

+++

[jgvfhl]

The Number Lads Explain It All For You

As long as "you" means the Jedi Council. Sixes and Echo find open minds and ears in the Jedi Council, explaining what really happened to Fives and Sevenset that evening. But after that? The matter might be out of their hands...

Words: ~5100 Warnings: None! Link to Number Lads Masterlist Link to the full story on Ao3

Private Channel

Grim Reaper: Nero what the kark

N__o: what???

Grim Reaper: You said Order 66 wasn’t dangerous!

N__o: no???

N__o: oh shit wait

Grim Reaper: IT IS VERY DANGEROUS

N__o: YEAH NO SHIT, ASSHOLE, IT’S IN THE 60s

Grim Reaper: YOU TOLD ME IT WAS SAFE

N__o: it was a typo!!! I meant Order 6!!!!

Grim Reaper: YOUR “TYPO” NEARLY GOT KENOBI STRANGLED BY HIS OWN TROOPER

N__o: I WAS FOCUSING ON MAKING SURE THIS KID GETS THROUGH SURGERY

Grim Reaper: Pay some karking attention next time!

N__o: “NEXT TIME”???? YOU PLANNING A REDO???

Grim Reaper: No, I’m going to punch your face into the mats when I see you. Next time.

N__o: oh lol

N__o: i was worried for a sec

N__o: not that this whole thing is not worrying!

Grim Reaper: Just make sure the kid’s okay and work on getting Tal Mu’s data to the Jedi

N__o: well duh

Grim Reaper: You did not just ‘well duh’ me after what you caused

N__o: YOU’RE NOT MY MOM

It was nighttime still, and Coruscant’s jagged cityscape was aglow with windows of different shapes and sizes and colors. Streaks of red and white flew by outside the speeder’s windows as the commander followed the two Jedi in their speeder through the crisscrossing flight lanes above the planet’s surface. Echo sat in the passenger seat, feeling quite a ways out of his depth beside the silent commander. Everyone else had been left at the Clubhouse, on the off-chance something went to shit and they needed to get the injured troopers to safety. The Jedi had insisted Echo and Commander Sixes accompany them to the Council to give their testimony, and he wouldn’t deny being apprehensive about speaking to Jedi he’d never met before.

Grim Reaper: I KRIFFING COULD BE WITH THE SHIT I DEAL WITH

-scene break-

Skywalker was still AWOL, according to Kenobi. The general wouldn’t give any other information, but Echo already had his suspicions that it had something to do with Senator Amidala. She was usually one of the reasons Skywalker mysteriously found other things to do while on Coruscant. He’d helped matters by comming Rex to assure him everything was under control without giving away too much. That way, the captain wouldn’t be dragging Skywalker back out to investigate any time soon. Ahsoka had suddenly appeared just as they were preparing to leave. She’d stumbled over some explanation of being at a friend’s house for a study session/sleepover, and she’d just seen the news, so she figured Saleha and Mira would know something.

Getting her to stay at the Noodle Bar had been like pulling teeth until Echo had gently told her that he would feel better with her there to watch Fives’ back while he recovered. She was still their little sister. The fight had gone out of her at that, and she’d hugged him and then Kenobi tightly before letting them leave.

Echo hadn’t been lying, either. He did feel miles better knowing Ahsoka was there in case the Corries found them.

The Jedi Temple came into view between skyscrapers and towers. The building seemed bigger in the dark, somehow. It had fewer lights on than the rest of the planet, but Echo could just make out the pinpricks of light at the top of the building that marked the Council Room. He swallowed, feeling his mouth go drier than was truly comfortable. The Jedi would listen. The Jedi didn’t dismiss the clones like others did.

“What if this doesn’t work?” He heard himself ask the question, breaking the overwhelming silence that had reigned since they’d left the restaurant.

The commander didn’t move, didn’t react outwardly at all. Then again, with his helmet back on, it was hard to tell. His fingers shifted a bit on the steering columns in his hands. “I’ve had a good run, I guess.”

Oh.

Right.

Echo sunk a bit lower into the comfortable seat.

If this didn’t work, the Jedi didn’t have jurisdiction over disciplinary retaliation. Mostly, that fell to the nattie admiralty. People like Tarkin. People who usually had a grudge against scientifically mass-produced soldiers “taking” positions usually earned by natties over a storied career. More than a few of them shared the opinion that a clone who didn’t behave exactly as directed and expected ought to be retrained or removed entirely.

“Guess this better work, then,” he replied. It sounded a hell of a lot more confident than he felt.

The commander made a noise acknowledging the statement, but nothing else. The rest of the flight went in silence, just as the beginning had.

They landed beside the two Jedi on a small landing pad at the top of the Temple. The commander pressed a round purple button on the speeder’s dashboard, and several mechanical clunks sounded from deep inside the vehicle. That, combined with the quiet electronic whir of machinery moving into a different position, made Echo resolve not to approach this particular speeder by himself. It probably had more weapons capabilities than the average AT-RT walker.

He followed at the rear of the group as the Jedi led them down into the building. The place was darker than he’d anticipated. Maybe he was just too used to the RMBs and cruisers, where the only true dark you got was the engine rooms and the barracks when his squad went to bed. Then again, he mused, watching General Ti navigate the semi-darkness with no more difficulty than she would in full light, perhaps there were more nocturnal or crepuscular people here than he was used to living around.

They followed down a gently spiraling staircase with wide steps and soft pink-orange lights in sconces along the walls. Eventually, they came to a corridor that widened out as it approached a large arched opening. Two Temple Guards stood on either side, faceless and impassive. A bit like the Corries when they were on-duty, from what Echo had observed. Their heads tilted down almost imperceptibly as Kenobi and Ti came before them. One of them pressed the button on the control panel, and the huge doors slid open at the center.

The commander turned to look at him. His helmet’s green visor glowed dimly, casting an eerie sheen onto his black armor. His hand moved, just in front of his chest, meant to be partially concealed. Echo’s brain immediately latched onto ARC sign, eager for a shred of familiarity in such a strange situation.

“Status?” Just as Echo imagined it would sound, the commander’s interrogatory sign was almost nonexistent. If not for Echo’s HUD tracking his gloved hand’s movement against the black armor, he probably would have missed the question mark entirely.

Echo nodded back once, firmly. “On you, Commander,” he replied, likewise keeping his hand close to his body. What was the commander’s name sign, he wondered. Fives had laughed himself silly after creating Echo’s. Echo had no trouble believing that the Chaos Batch hadn’t been the kindest when creating name signs for each other—if indeed they’d done such a thing. Plenty of clones chose their own, just like their spoken names.

He pushed the musings out of his mind. The commander rapped his knuckles against Echo’s chestplate gently, then turned to follow the Jedi inside.

Echo swallowed back the rising unease brought about by a sudden display of vague affection from one of the least affectionate people he knew. He was an ARC. He could do this. Fives needed him to do this. Domino Squad’s stubborn heart-before-head mentality had gotten them both this far. Echo wasn’t about to disappoint his batch by backing out now because of a dozen space wizards he didn’t know.

The Council Room was better lit than the rest of the building he’d seen so far. More than likely, this was because of the diurnal members present. Echo wouldn’t complain. Generals Kenobi and Ti nodded to acknowledge Windu and Yoda sitting on their right when they entered, then walked to their respective seats in the circle of chairs. They both sat down with a bit less grace than usual, and Echo could sympathize. He hadn’t had a chance to unwind from Ringo Vinda yet, and his knee and elbow were screaming for a chance to lie down.

He and the commander stopped at the center of the room. As politely as possible, Echo let his gaze sweep the room behind his visor, taking in attendance. Most of the Council were here in-person, leaving Generals Koth and Fisto as the only holograms in their seats. An empty chair stood roughly opposite the door. Echo didn’t know enough to guess why it was so.

Windu started, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepling his fingers before he spoke. He addressed the two of them in the center. “This is an unusual situation for us all, and we appreciate you both for trusting the Jedi with the evidence you’ve collected,” he said. “The Council has already been briefed on Master Ti’s story of events, as well as what Nala Se and the chancellor have reported.”

Echo couldn’t help the grip of tension that slowly overtook his body at that. He would need to go through everything all over again. Force, why couldn’t Fives be doing this? Oh, right, because Nala Se had drugged him and he was currently (hopefully) passed out asleep back in the Clubhouse.

Windu probably sensed their apprehension. “I understand you may have conflicting evidence to those reports,” he said evenly. “That is why you are here.”

Yoda, seated to his right, stepped in. “Impartial we will be, as we are able. Value your judgment, and your intellect, we do.” The small general gave a warm smile that matched his stature.

“If you would please introduce yourselves to the Council,” Windu went on, gesturing to his colleagues around the room. “We will hear your testimony, and then Master Kenobi or Master Ti can present the evidence they said they would bring.”

Echo and the commander both nodded. The commander took a breath, then reached up to remove his helmet. It was still jarring, to an extent. Most clones (most clones outside of the 501st, Echo had noticed) were particular about which natties got to see their faces.

“My name is Commander Sixes,” he said, choosing to address the empty chair, from what Echo could tell. “Seventh Sky Corps, Star Fighter Pilot Legion.”

Echo followed his lead, removing his helmet and tucking it under his left arm. He held back a wince when his elbow twinged. “I’m Echo, sir,” he said, choosing to address General Windu. “I’m ARC Trooper Fives’ batchmate.”

A small smile graced the Jedi Master’s face. “Anakin speaks highly of you and your brother,” he said gently.

Echo allowed himself a quiet smirk. “We’re good at our jobs, sir.” Out of his periphery, he swore he caught the most miniscule eye-roll from the commander.

Yoda spoke next. “Involved in this matter, how became you?”

Well that was an easy answer for him. “He’s… my batchmate, sir. My twin. I’d honestly be shocked if I hadn’t gotten involved somehow.” Realizing that probably wasn’t very useful information, he quickly added on, “As for specifically how, there’s a…” He blinked, figuring out the best way to explain the Numbers to the Jedi Kriffing Council. “There’s a group of them, sir, with repeating designations like Fives. And we have a group chain of communications. We were all made aware that Sevenset and Fives were on Coruscant and in trouble through that.”

There was a short pause as the Jedi processed this. “For you the same is it, Commander?” Yoda asked.

“Yessir.”

General Ti raised a hand. “Actually, Masters, the commander here was involved on Kamino as well. He assisted in locating clone trooper Tup when he had disappeared from the medical facilities there.”

The Jedi’s attention refocused on the commander. He gave a brief glance to General Ti, but he nodded. “I have connections there. I knew if Tup stayed in Nala Se’s care, he wouldn’t get the treatment he needed. I pulled some strings.”

“Some strings?” General Windu repeated, his eyebrows rising a bit. He then closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “My apologies, we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” he said, holding up his other hand. “Firstly, I would like to understand how ARC Troopers Fives and Sevenset went from escorting Tup for a medical evaluation to being transported to Coruscant for an audience with Chancellor Palpatine.”

Echo glanced to the commander beside him. Slowly, the two of them worked together to piece together Fives’ journey from Ringo Vinda to Kamino. Echo was sure to mention the Separatist’s attempted kidnapping along the way, as it still stood out as strange to him why the enemy would want a wounded soldier. Periodically, General Ti would jump in to corroborate their story, adding confirmations of Fives’ clean bill of health, of Sevenset’s loyal service in Rancor Battalion, and of Tup’s strange behavior while he had been examined. The Jedi listened in silence, occasionally nodding along or leaning forward until they reached the part of the account that left Sevenset and Fives in the room with the chancellor alone.

General Windu held up an open palm, gently signaling them to stop. “Thank you,” he said first. “While we would like to hear from the two ARC troopers in question, we understand why this was impossible. Thank you for being their voices.”

Were normal Jedi always this flowery? This… borderline sappy? Maybe Echo had just spent too long with Skywalker, who was sometimes blunter than a boulder with his so-called wisdom. Regardless, he dipped his chin, shifting his weight to his stronger leg from the straight and square stance he’d subconsciously adopted to tell his brother’s story.

“Master Ti,” Yoda said, looking to her not quite directly across the room. “Evidence you have of what happened in that room, yes?”

“Yes, Master,” she answered, producing the datastick from her robes. She plugged it into the arm of her chair and tapped a button.

Echo and the commander took rapid steps back as a blue hologram emerged from the floor only inches ahead of their boots. Text sprang up in the usual layout from portable datasticks. There were four files: the first was a folder. Echo presumed it contained Mira’s pictures of Sevenset, and possibly whatever documentation was required to demonstrate they had both been high out of their minds. The other three were in odd file formats, but they were all downloaded from HUDs, so they were most likely the communication histories from the Guard commanders, and the video from Nines’ HUD.

Echo felt a shiver run up his spine at the memory. He was not looking forward to seeing it again.

General Ti selected the picture folder. She pulled up images of the blaster wound and the slash across Sevenset’s back. He felt the room inhale as one when the second image became clear. The hologram slowly rotated for what felt like ages before anyone spoke.

When someone did, it was General Kenobi. “Gentlemen, would you please explain what Fives and Sevenset told you about these injuries?”

So, they did. Echo explained Elevensies’ presence in the room, noting how much the kid had looked up to Sevenset, and that he had helped Sevenset earlier in the meeting. The commander revealed the chancellor identifying the two ARCs as traitors to the Republic, and then explained the fateful order given to the Coruscant Guards that changed everything. Echo stepped in afterwards to recount what Fives had said about the lightsaber the chancellor had used, and he once again felt the air in the round room grow heavy and oppressive as the Council practically held their breath until he finished where General Ti had arrived into the room.

He forced himself to take a slow, steady breath. He forced his fingers to uncurl a little where he’d clenched them into a fist under his helmet. This had to work. They had to be able to do something.

They had to understand they were risking everything just by telling them this.

“Serious accusations these are,” Yoda said at length, his rough voice sounding so much louder than it probably was in the absolute silence.

“Unfortunately,” General Mundi said beside him, “there’s not much argument with those images. We all know nothing else could have caused that wound.”

There were murmurs of agreement around the room. 

“Still,” said another Jedi. Echo was glad of his efforts to learn the Council members during ARC training. Jedi Master Saesee Tiin, if his memory served. “Still, the evidence of the inhibitor chips remains in chancellor’s hands. Any evidence of his direct involvement, including in activating them—if indeed he did—is anecdotal at best.”

“Not quite.” General Kenobi looked to Ti. “We did some… experimentation.”

She pulled up the communications histories from the two Coruscant commanders. “These belong to Commanders Fox and Thire of the Coruscant Guard. Commander Sixes has confirmed that the oldest two frequencies used by them both are to other clone commanders, including to himself. But the most recent frequency—”

“I recognize it,” General Windu said. Beside him, Yoda nodded gravely. “That belongs to the chancellor. He was the last one to contact them.”

“What relevance has this?” Yoda wanted to know.

The commander answered. “I called them to help take care of Elevensies and the other Guards from the meeting room. After that, they arrived where we were meeting to sort through all of this. They tried to kill Fives and Sevenset without warning.”

“And they repeated the ‘good soldiers follow orders’ thing that Tup had said on Ringo Vinda,” Echo added on quickly.

The commander nodded. “They weren’t themselves, generals. I’ve… I’ve known Thire my whole life. That wasn’t him. That was the chip talking.”

And on it went. Echo couldn’t remember the last time he had talked this long to this many Jedi—and it probably had never happened. They answered the questions asked as best as they could, and Kenobi and Ti offered as many insights as they had. They repeated what Commander Fox had admitted about the Guard’s mysterious disappearances. The commander told the abbreviated story of his friend and former captain’s fate, to the quiet shock of everyone hearing it for the first time. Eventually, though, they had to show the video.

There was a long pause when Master Yoda asked to watch it. Echo glanced at the commander, who gave no reaction. But after a few seconds, the commander took a breath, then started by explaining the data Ti had received from Tal Mu and the 118th Special Forces Division about the chips. He showed his comm unit to both Windu and Yoda, explaining the mistake Commander Nero had made with the orders deemed “safe”. Kenobi explained his role, explained the theory behind the chancellor’s voice specifically being the one to trigger these preprogrammed orders.

And then there was nothing else to do but watch.

It was… odd, watching the events from someone else’s perspective. Of course, he’d been recording from his HUD too, as had the commander beside him. But watching it from Nines’ eyes… knowing that as soon as the order was out in the air, they were watching events Nines had no chance at remembering…. It made his skin prickle. They watched Nines lunge for his general without hesitation, hands outstretched to do whatever damage was necessary. None of them had been prepared, not really. It had taken precious seconds for Echo and the commanders to even realize what was happening, and that it shouldn’t be happening.

Underlying the later half of the short video was the familiar muttered mantra: good soldiers follow orders; kill the Jedi. By the time their stun rings found their mark (and somehow missed Kenobi), the Council Room had gone deathly still and quiet. The muffled voices and flurry of motion at the end cut off when Echo had pulled off Nines’ helmet to stop it.

The room was now silent.

Echo concentrated on keeping his breathing even and deep. There was nothing else he could do while the Jedi mulled over all the evidence they had shared. Echo understood it was a lot. It had taken them an hour and a half to go through it all. The “attempted assassination” had occurred almost five hours ago now. He just needed to keep his cool, keep his frazzled wits as collected as he could, and he would get through this.

After an enormously sluggish few moments had passed, someone finally spoke. It was Plo Koon, his expression largely impassible behind his mask and eye protection. His clawed hands were interlaced in front of his chin, and one leg was propped up at the ankle on the other’s knee. “The entire Grand Army of the Republic,” he said, “all of the clones currently in service and in training on Kamino… they all have this inhibitor chip?”

Echo and the commander nodded. General Ti did as well.

“And there is…” He trailed off. Echo imagined that, if he were Force-sensitive, the room would feel like a pile of noodles, emotionally speaking. “Somehow, Chancellor Palpatine’s voice can be used to trigger commands in them.”

There were more nods, this time from around the room as well.

“And at least two of those commands are lethal,” General Windu added, his face stony.

“Including one that has unintentionally killed one Jedi already,” General Mundi said, “and has attempted to cause the death of one more.” He looked beside him at Kenobi, whose eyes were fixed on the hologram still floating in the middle of the room. “Not to mention the number of troopers they have put at risk if what the commander reports of the Coruscant Guard is true.”

“Investigate further we must,” Yoda agreed with a decisive nod. His clawed fingers tightened briefly around the head of his walking stick.

There were more murmurings of agreement around the room. Echo licked his lips, his mouth once again feeling dry. He had to ask. “Where do you start?”

Windu and Yoda looked at each other, then glances were exchanged in rapid succession, sweeping around the circle. Echo would never understand Jedi.

“Regrettably,” Windu said, “the evidence you’ve presented all contains a common thread. One point of connection that binds them all together.”

He had been afraid of that answer. Well… not really afraid. He’d been suspecting it for a while now. But he knew hearing it out loud would make it all feel real.

“Chancellor Palpatine,” Yoda said. “Much to answer for he has. At the least, complicit in treacherous plans he is. At the most…” He shook his head. “Capable of great destruction and death.”

“He’s working with the Separatists, is what he is,” a voice from the other side of the circle said. Echo turned. Eeth Koth, in hologram, shook his head, leaning forward in his seat. “Master Yoda, we cannot approach him without an overabundance of caution, given the evidence. At the very least, he has a lightsaber in his possession. Now, whether it is his own—” he opened his hands— “I’ll admit, that’s up in the air. But this is a treason plot at its heart.”

The other hologram, Kit Fisto beside him, nodded. “I’m afraid I have to agree. I’m sure we all do, to an extent. The chancellor is dangerous.”

“Oh, for—” A disgruntled noise accompanied the quiet sound of Kenobi’s palm striking his forehead. “I cannot believe this,” he said, his hand sliding down over his eyes. There was a pause as they all waited for him to continue. Eventually, he uncovered his eyes and explained. “Before the First Battle of Geonosis, when I had been captured, Dooku came to speak with me,” he said. “He said something. I hadn’t given it much thought until tonight’s events.”

“Helpful is it?” Yoda asked.

Kenobi’s mouth pressed into a line, his expression drawn. “He mentioned Qui-Gon, in a way that implied Qui-Gon might have helped him then. I denied it, I had to. But he went on about Qui-Gon’s old displeasure with the bureaucracy and corruption of the Senate, which was true, and said that if Qui-Gon had learned the truth as he had, he would have joined him.”

“The truth?” Windu repeated, his brows furrowing.

He nodded. “He said something like, ‘What if I told you the Republic is already controlled by the Lord of the Sith?’ He named him Darth Sidious.”

Echo looked over at the commander, making quite an effort to keep his mouth clamped shut around the venom he wanted to spit. The Sith had done this? Chancellor Palpatine was Sith? Was he The Sith? The commander gave no reaction, as per kriffing usual, so Echo had to look around the room and wait for someone to keep talking.

“Do we go to the Senate?” Master Tiin asked as other Jedi glanced around the room as well.

“Certainly not if we want something done in a timely manner,” Kenobi mused, a tired smile coming to his face. “But no, the Senate is too…” He sighed. “I fear Palpatine holds too much sway there. While we understand that all of you,” he said, gesturing to the two of them in the middle of the room, “are fully sentient and capable of exercising free will that these commands appear to take away, I’m not sure enough of the Senate will see through Palpatine’s counterargument and join our thinking.”

The commander did a valiant job in containing an eye-roll. “Unless you explain to the senators that every Coruscant Guardsman present could be ordered to kill them without warning. I’m sure that would go over spectacularly well, sir.”

That got a pained, weak laugh out of Kenobi, who then sat forward to rub his eyes while he settled. “Oh, yes, spectacularly.”

“I would also add that while we know the chancellor’s voice triggers these chips,” General Ti spoke up, “that does not eliminate the prospect that other conspirators may exist, and may be capable of the same control.”

Well, that was terrifying.

“Handle this ourselves we must,” Yoda said with some finality.

Windu sighed and shook his head. “But, surely, there’s a better way than marching into the chancellor's office, sabers drawn, and hoping he’s as helpless as he prefers to be seen.”

The commander shifted where he stood. “I have a legion of star fighters at my command. I’m sure lining a few of them up outside his window wouldn’t be any trouble.”

Kenobi shook his head now. “Clone pilots,” he said. “It’s too dangerous, Commander.”

Echo spoke up. “We made it work earlier, didn’t we?” he said. “When we deafened our helmets, no one else was affected but Nines. We want to help, General.”

“We know you do,” Windu replied, his voice gentle but unyielding. “But Obi-Wan is right. The chancellor’s control over these chips is still too much of an unknown for us to safely bring more troopers with us.”

“And since he has a lightsaber,” General Koon added, “there is no telling the magnitude of his powers in the Force, not to mention whatever allies he may have on call.”

In a moment rivaling some of Fives’ more stupid suggestions around the briefing table, Echo replied, “We could wear earplugs and use slugthrowers instead, sir.”

It made Kenobi laugh again, this time with more genuine mirth. “And there’s the Five-oh-first for you.”

The commander shrugged. “I know somewhere we could get a lot of slugthrowers.”

While Echo’s remark had caused some chuckles and quiet smiles, that appeared to garner more looks of concern than anything else. Had Echo not already met the rest of his batch and witnessed Saleha pulling adhesive breach charges out of a cookie tin, he might have joined them. The average clone trooper—even the average clone commander—was not supposed to have a mystery source of non-Republic weapons at his beck and call.

Now, however, Echo couldn’t help but say, “If you say it’s Commander Nero, I will lose it.”

“Of course it’s not Nero,” came the immediate reply. “He’s halfway across the galaxy right now.”

Echo arched an eyebrow at him. “Forgive my assumptions based on several instances of past experiences, sir,” he said, too tired to fully disguise his sarcasm.

“Watch your tone, ARC.”

“Gentlemen.” They immediately stopped their exchange to return their attention to General Windu. “We are not bringing clone troopers to confront a man who is capable of mind-controlling clone troopers.”

Unfortunately, Echo found he couldn’t soundly argue against that point.

Commander Sixes apparently could. “What about Mandalorians?”

General Windu stared at him, then brought his hands up to rub his eyes. He sighed. “What about Mandalorians, Commander?”

The commander explained. ��If, hypothetically, I could contact several members of a non-hostile Mandalorian clan who have no qualms with using slugthrowers against people who wield lightsabers, then… what about Mandalorians?”

“Hypothetically,” Windu repeated.

“Of course, General.”

Windu leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He clasped his hands and raised them to pinch the bridge of his nose between both index fingers. For a few seconds, he simply breathed, and the other Council members seemed to breathe in concert. Even without the Force, it was calming. Eventually, Windu sat back up and addressed them both.

“The Council needs some time to discuss our options,” he said, receiving several bobbing heads in agreement around the circle. “Commander, Echo, if you would be kind enough to wait outside, we will try to make this brief. And we will keep the commander's… resources in mind.”

Echo had expected that. The Jedi always did things as a group, and regardless of the enormous gravity of the situation, they would need to mull this over before acting on it. The commander seemed to accept this easily as well. They both saluted and were dismissed back out the double doors into the dimly lit hallway. He slipped his helmet back on to make it easier to see.

“That went smoothly,” the commander remarked flatly from behind his own helmet.

“I guess,” Echo said. After a beat, he asked, “You really know how to contact a clan of Mandalorians?”

The commander looked at him. “Yeah. One of them trained my batch.”

He blinked. “Wait, she’s the one who grabbed Tup, right?”

“Yep.”

“And… how many are in her clan?”

The commander shrugged, folding his arms. “Dunno. Twenty, maybe? There’s always a few hanging around Coruscant. Easy money.”

“Right….” He stared a few seconds longer before looking away. “And since your trainer is part of the clan, I’m guessing anyone who messes with your batch could rile up the whole lot of ‘em, yeah?”

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

I'm sure Sixes isn't plotting anything at all ever ._. @23-bears @theultimatesandwich @mercurydancer @rndmpeep @xylionet @thechaoticfanartist @501st-verified anywaaayyyy I think the next update will happen sometime during September (not on the 1st tho). Owlie is using August as a break month. I've been writing this story for like... 2 years straight??? Wild. But the next chapter is almost done, and the story itself is almost done! I shall see you all in September (and perhaps when Owlie is a year older!)