#force-sensitive hardcase

[zealfruity]

Some older stuff for yall as I clean through my files. Info below.

From the original rendition of ahsoka's outfit for the Bones In The Stars Au. I still like it, I'll probably keep it as an alternative look for her (May 17th)

Echo the second he sees Fives after he made everyone think he was dead before showing up as a force sensitive bounty hunter with a lightsaber. Bones In The Stars AU

Jesse and Hardcase. Jesse's quick temper and captain obvious tendencies make him a smartass idiot no matter how capable he may be.

idk long haired clones. Kix and Nax (first two from the left) are drawn the way they look by the end of the Domino Squad Lives AU, followed by Cutup's original design from the same AU. Then, of course, Hunter and Tup, the OG long haired clones (May 9th)

The Trio Ever. just-out-of-shinyness Fives and Echo enjoy overenthusiastically following Rex around (June 10th)

TUKK MY BELOVED (Captain Tukk created by @highgroundanimations)

Older Ahsoka drawing (March 12th) back when I drew her closer to canon

[hermitmoss]

Disability Pride flag + Star Wars

Image description: 7 panels toned in the colours of the disability pride flag, with text indicating their meanings, with backdrops of Disabled characters in Star Wars.

1: A black-toned panel that says "BLACK" and "commemoration + mourning". The pictures are of a community carrying out a funeral march for Maarva Andor, a Disabled leader and organiser, Hera Syndulla mourning Kanan Jarrus, her Blind spouse, and Poe Dameron mourning Leia Organa, a Disabled woman and leader.

2: A green-toned panel that says "GREEN" and "sensory disabilities". The pictures are of Kanan Jarrus and Chirrut Îmwe, both Blind people.

3: A blue-toned panel that says "BLUE" and "emotional + psychiatric disabilities". The pictures are of Obi-wan Kenobi and Reva Sevander, who both have mental health disabilities that include flashbacks, and of Leia Organa, whose actress was bipolar, and who described herself and Leia as being so similar it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

4: A gold-toned panel that says "GOLD" and "neurodiversity". The pictures are of Theron Shan, who has a different neurotype to the one he was expected to at birth, Hardcase, who has hyperactivity, and Yoda (who is also a mobility aid user) and Jedi younglings, who all have a different neurotype (Force-sensitivity) from the norm. In the picture of Yoda and the younglings, he is talking about how he values how their minds work differently from other peoples'.

5: A red-toned panel that says "RED" and "physical disabilities". The pictures are of Saw Gerrera, an amputee who uses supplementary oxygen and a staff as a mobility aid, Weazel, who has dwarfism, Luke Skywalker, an amputee, and Lando Calrissian, a cane user.

6: A white-toned panel that says "WHITE" and "invisible + undiagnosed [disabilities]". The pictures are of Finn, who was unaware of his neurodivergence for the first decades of his life, Cere Junda, who has trauma, and Greez Dritus, who has an addiction.

7: A black-toned panel that says "BLACK" and "rage, protest + rebellion". The pictures are of Chirrut Îmwe and Kanan Jarrus fighting in the Rebellion against the Galactic Empire, Reva Sevandar fighting against one of its enforcers, screaming in rage at somebody who traumatised her, Maarva Andor giving a posthumous speech encouraging rebellion, and Leia Organa giving orders to Rebellion fighters who are about to engage the Empire. /End.

[rexxdjarin]

Clone x OC Week 2025

Day 5 - Future

Captain Rex x OC: Mari Vontas

Today’s theme future is a part of Rex and Mari’s story that I’ve alluded to but hasn’t quite happened yet in any of my written fics. I won’t get in to too many details because I don’t necessarily want to spoil exactly how they get there but this is ultimately Rex and Mari’s entire family.

Little descriptions and explanations below the cut:

Rex & Mari of course

Wolffe and Gregor who have since gone into hiding from the Empire on Seelos with Rex and Mari after the destruction of the Clone Rebellion

Kai Vontas (shown here as a toddler and his adult mid-20s), their eldest son and the one who looks the most like Rex and the other clones. He’s more wise, introspective and dreamy because Spoilers: he is incredibly, powerfully force sensitive and is the other main reason Rex, Mari, Wolffe and Gregor decide to go into hiding. They protect him until he’s about 10 or so when The Ghost Crew finds them and recruits them into the Rebellion again where a certain former Jedi takes great interest in her little force sensitive nephew 👀 he becomes Ahsoka’s apprentice and spends time being trained by both her, Kanan and Ezra until he’s in his late teens. With Ahsoka’s disappearance, he eventually goes out on his own to search for her and using his force given gift of premonition and connection to the world between worlds is able to rescue her. They spend the latter years of the Empire’s reign researching and learning about Mortis, the World Between Worlds and Ahsoka’s connection to the Daughter of Mortis. Kai learns that when Ahsoka saved his fathers life on the Venator all those years ago she transferred some of the light side of the force to him thus forever cementing Rex’s bloodline as a Guardian of the Light Side of the Force and Ahsoka’s/The Daughter’s Protector. He goes on various missions to find his own kyber crystal and create his lightsaber, blue bladed to of course honor his Father, and to continue the Jedi Legacy for the foreseeable future.

Nisa Vontas (shown as a toddler and her late teens), their only daughter and the most rough and tumble of all their children. As you can see, she takes after Rex in both her hair color and her personality. She is a warrior in every way and follows in her father’s footsteps by training to be a skilled fighter and a great shot with both hands. Shes scrappy, fearless and cunning, traits she gets from both her parents. She joins the Rebellion and is considered one of the most gifted natural leaders of the several squadrons she commands. She’s a much better pilot than her Father, a fact she never lets him forget. After the fall of the Empire she goes on to helm multiple levels in the New Republic Navy with hopes of eventually outranking even Rex one day.

Mako Vontas (shown as a toddler and his late teens) is their youngest child and their most entertaining one. He is sarcastic, funny, rambunctious and every bit the gifted writer his mother is, though he prefers to use his skills to write jokes. He’s a lot like Fives and Hardcase though he looks most like Mari. Mako, like the rest of his family, joins the Rebellion and assists his Mom with rebel recruitment since he’s such an easy guy to get along with and trust. He’s also a gifted, engaging speaker and storyteller and spends many nights entertaining battle weary soldiers who are in desperate need of comic relief. After the fall of the Empire, he becomes a popular entertainer, tv personality and the driving force behind a tv show that educates about the history of the Republic Clone Troopers alongside his mother, his uncles Wolffe and Kix. Together they create a statue in the New Republic Capitol of Chandrila of a clone trooper, you might recognize him from the tattoo on his forehead, to commemorate and honor the lives and sacrifice of all clone brothers who died for freedom and a galaxy-wide holiday to honor the clones celebrated on the 5th day of the 5th calendar month every year.

And there’s a quick run down of Rex and Mari’s future. Rex’s legacy is unparalleled and his children continue it every day for not just him, but all their extended family.

[sev-on-kamino]

If you want more spice prompts I’m here to request who I (almost) always request Hardcase and the Prompt- ❛ you're such a fucking tease, you know that? ❜

Have a beautiful day💙

Hello my dear!!! I am always happy to write Hardcase because he brings such good vibes with him even for smut 😌 I hope you have a wonderful day, and enjoy this lil spicy snack with your beloved 💙💙 The prompt is highlighted in blue!

not sure on the word count because I wrote this one in the tumblr app 😅 dividers by the bestest @dystopicjumpsuit

warnings: teasing, sexting in inappropriate places, inappropriate uses of the Force, bondage if you squint, MINORS DNI, if I missed anything lemme know 😏

Case: Babe, I miss you. Think we can get away soon?

The message came through on the transport back to the Resolute, and you had to work to keep your focus on what Master Kenobi was saying rather than the far more interesting thought of being alone with Hardcase.

You let your eyes wander over his form, and you couldn’t resist squeezing your thighs together. He sat in his seat, looking almost relaxed with one of his legs stretched out in front of him. The other leg, however, bobbed up and down with the energy he was aching to expend with you.

You: I miss you too, but it’ll be a few hours. Debrief, reports, meditation…

You knew he’d received your message when his leg bounced faster.

Case: Babe, I need you. It’s been 10 rotations, and yes, I’m counting. Thinking about your taste is driving me crazy.

You: I know exactly how long it’s been since I had your perfect cock buried inside me, but we still have work to do.

Case: You can’t just say stuff like that.

You: Didn’t say it, I typed it ;)

Case: Smart ass! You better eat well at dinner because it’s gonna be a long night for you. Gonna see how many times I can make you come on my tongue before I let you anywhere near my cock…

You stood up straighter at his playful threat, shifting your weight, and looking over to Masters Kenobi and Skywalker. They were lost in their own conversation, which was perfect.

Taking a deep breath, you reached out through the Force. Testing, teasing, touching Hardcase through the gaps in his armor. Even with his helmet on, you knew his bright amber eyes were wide, and his tongue had darted out to lick his lips.

His leg had stopped bouncing, and he’d pulled in the other one to sit up straight.

A subtle smile crossed your face, as you continued your gentle exploration. Squeezing his sensitive thighs and making his breath hitch. Wrapping around his wrists and making him clear his throat. Firmly applying even pressure to his half hard…fully hard cock, as it strained against his codpiece.

Case: You’re such a fucking tease, you know that?

You: Not teasing, if I follow through…and I plan to, love.

Case: Babe…can you hold my wrists with the Force again later?

You: Absolutely.

ragu list: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @dukeoftheblackstar @wolffegirlsunite @808tsuika @sleepingsun501 @starrylothcat @ladyzirkonia @wings-and-beskar @pb-jellybeans @clio3kantarella @stardusthuntress @idontgetanysleep @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @anxiouspineapple99 @littlemissmanga @mandos-mind-trick @amorfista @kimiheartblade @freesia-writes @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @multi-fan-dom-madness @mooncommlink @1vlouds @moonlightwarriorqueen @starqueensthings @dangraccoon @idoubleswearimawriter @wizardofrozz @trixie2023 @dreamie411 @nunanuggets @foodmoneyandcats @cdbkake1565

[eclec-tech]

I'm gonna need to know more about Dr. Miran Threst. What are some things she does after the war?

(insanely accurate Miran by @nika6q)

It's more like what doesn't she do!

After the war, Miran thinks Tech and the Batch are under the Empire's control like all the other clones she's seen, so she goes on the run with Crosshair's wife (who's preggers, terrible timing). She comes up with a way to disable the chips, works to free as many clones as she can, gets captured by Cad Bane, escapes with the help of another person Bane captured (Hardcase, who's NOT dead), and eventually makes her way back to Alderaan. She's nearly captured again (by a young Din Djarin (who's just starting out), but they work it all out.

Now, she's working with her cousin, Breha Organa, to find homes for the clone cadets who never became soldiers. But since it turns out that some of those children are Force-sensitive, she and her companions have to be very careful. Palpatine is watching.

Thanks for the ask! 🧡

[undercoverwillshaper]

Where’s the option for none of the above?

It’s chaos incarnate. Jesse is first. He thinks he’s safe because he knows Kix but Kix knows him, and finds him hiding in an air duct on the third floor of the Senate building bc Fox ratted him out. For all of their Force abilities, Anakin and Ahsoka are next. They strongly suspect that Kix may be Force Sensitive with how quickly and easily he found them.

Hardcase and Tup get got because their methods worked against each other. Echo and Fives are busy bickering about what the best method of avoidance is when Kix sneaks up behind them and jabs them both in the neck.

Kix uses medic privilege to get in to Appo. Hawk screams when he rounds a corner under the grates and Kix is there waiting for him in the dark, like a strill waiting for prey. Nax and Attie get cocky and forget that Kix is still better at it than them. Denal is sprinting away from the glue traps he laid down when suddenly, there Kix is, t-posing in the corridor. Rex blacks out suddenly and awakes in the medbay, a bandaid with a cartoon that looks suspiciously like Mace Windu slapped over his arm. It’s Dogma that lasts the longest, but he’s finally gotten when Kix casually injects him as he walks by.

Kix just sits in his office, arms folded smugly. No one escapes the medic.

[hrtiu]

Chaotic Good

“This for the 501st,” Hardcase said, solemn for once in his brief existence. “Don’t wait for me.” 

“Hardcase! No!” Fives yelled.

Hardcase pulled his ship’s detached missile pod towards a maintenance shaft to the side of the ray shield, turning around for one last look before crossing the point of no return.

“You’ve disobeyed enough orders today, sir. Follow this one, get out of here!” he said, waving Jesse and Fives away.

He dragged the missile pod to the other side of the ray shield, running as fast as the awkwardly-sized pod would allow. He threw the floating pod into the energy core, and the pod made its way with sluggish but unstoppable force towards the highly-flammable containers. Job done, Hardcase turned around to his no-longer visible brothers.

“Live to fight another day, boys,” he said. “Live to fight another day.”

The world exploded in an angry ball of fire and heat around him .

---

Hardcase opened his eyes and immediately knew he wasn’t dead. He knew this because, though he wasn’t sure what the afterlife might bring, he was pretty sure it didn’t involve being pinned beneath a durasteel beam in the wreckage of a Separist supply ship.

He pushed vainly against the massive beam, his well-toned arms useless in the face of its weight, then collapsed backwards, letting his eyes rest.

An ominous groan emanated from somewhere above and Hardcase’s eyes flew open, looking up just in time to see the support strut ten meters over his head give way with a massive crack. It was just Hardcase’s luck to miraculously survive a spaceship crash only to die ten seconds later. He shouted uselessly, raising his hands in front of his face as if that would do anything. And then-

And then...nothing. Nothing happened.

That’s strange. Maybe this is the afterlife, Hardcase thought. He cautiously opened his eyes, and the support strut was only a meter from his face, floating in the thick Umbaran air.

Eyes widening, Hardcase looked at his hands, still outstretched towards the beam. Slowly, carefully, he moved his arms to the side. The beam floated off to Hardcase’s right, following his arms like an omnibox player might a bandleader. Once it was well clear of him, he let his arms drop. The strut immediately fell to the ground with a thunderous crash.

Huh, Hardcase thought. That’s new.

AO3 link.

---

Getting out of the crashed ship was significantly easier after Hardcase discovered he could move objects with his mind. ...Or his hands? Or his soul? Honestly, the mechanics of it weren’t very clear to him, but the point was he could suddenly lift the durasteel flotsam and jetsam blocking his way.

Hardcase hopped down from the busted-out wall of the Separatist ship, his boots crunching on the rocky earth below him. He could hardly see anything, but at least he could breathe. The Separatist ship had been so eerily empty and quiet, a graveyard that had never housed living beings even before its catastrophic crash. 

The misty darkness swirled around him, with only a few distant bioluminescent plants visible in the distance. Hardcase had absolutely no idea where he was.

Luck had been on his side when he’d found his helmet lying in a pile of scrap metal not too far from his initial landing site, but luck had its limits. Hardcase shoved the helmet on his head, testing the comms once again just in case something about the innards of the melted ship had interfered with his signal, but still no luck. He was on his own.

He picked a direction at random and started walking, careful not to step on any carnivorous plants. As he made his way through the endless haze, every so often he would take a turn in a different direction. He couldn’t articulate any particular reason for it, but it felt right, and Hardcase had always trusted his gut. 

As he walked he practiced pushing and pulling things. He knew that Jedi had other powers besides just that, but it wasn’t really clear to him what they were. He did know he was Jedi, though. Only the Jedi could manipulate the Force, and Hardcase knew that was what he was doing. There was no other explanation.

The exploration of his newfound abilities absorbed nearly all of Hardcase’s attention, and he found himself losing track of time. It was fascinating, figuring out how to push versus pull, how to adjust the power behind his movements, and what his maximum range was. He couldn’t say exactly what he was doing was. He just sort of thought, and it happened. Or maybe willed was more accurate? He didn’t know, but after hours of undivided attention, he felt like he was getting the hang of it. His laser-focused attention span helped with that. Hardcase couldn’t always control what caught his attention, but once it was caught it stayed caught.

The distant boom of mortar fire jolted Hardcase from his near-trance, and he looked up. A tall, inorganic cliff of duracrete became visible through the fog. It was the airbase. Hardcase had no idea if he’d been walking hours or days, but he was relieved to see the base he hoped the GAR still held.

“Thank the Force I landed so close to the boys,” Hardcase said to no one in particular.

He started off in the direction of the airbase, watching for enemy combatants as he scrambled across a narrow outcrop towards the shining beacon of the airbase. Then, he stopped. His feet were pulling him in a different direction. Or maybe not his feet? Maybe his stomach. Regardless, something wouldn’t let him keep going along the outcrop, so he followed his instincts and climbed down the ridge, heading towards a narrow gorge off to the side.

The gorge opened up onto a clearing of sorts, and Hardcase instantly recognized the innocent-looking pods dotting the landscape. It was those creatures—those many-toothed plants that too many unwitting clones had stumbled onto to their doom.

He turned around to find another way, but the tugging at his feet became more insistent. This way, that something urged him. This way.

Narrowing his eyes, Hardcase turned back around and took a cautious step towards the field of man-eating plants, his arms held up daintily as if letting them swing might alert the creatures to his presence. He took another step. Then another. Then another. Soon, he was only a few meters away from the first creature. The mysterious urging stopped.

“Well…” Hardcase whispered into the ether. “I’m here. Now what?”

The pod closest to him burst open, its long tentacles flailing wildly and its sharp-toothed mouth opening and snapping shut. Hardcase dove away, rolling across the dusty earth to create as much distance between him and the murderous plant as possible. A tentacle grabbed onto his leg, but he reached out with the Force and threw the tentacle off of him. He scrambled further away, heart racing and head pounding with adrenaline, and then he was out of reach.

The tentacles reached blindly towards him in the dark, but they couldn’t quite close the distance. Hardcase caught his breath, pulling in huge gasps of breath for his greedy lungs. 

“What,” he said through gasps of air, “the kriff am I doing here?”

The plant only flailed in response, and Hardcase threw it a rude gesture for good measure. Then the plant’s tentacle retracted and it let out a hearty belch, throwing something small and shiny from its mouth before pulling back into its pod. The unidentified object sailed through the air, then landed at Hardcase’s feet.

Leaning forward on his knees, Hardcase picked it up. It was a lightsaber—or rather half of one. It looked like one of those double-sided lighsabers, but it had been ripped in half. Hardcase was pretty sure it was General Krell’s lightsaber. Hardcase looked around him, only now noticing the singes of blaster fire and the chipped bits of plastoid—telltale signs of a fight.

“What happened here…” he said, eyes falling back to the lightsaber.

One end of the hilt ended in a mess of exposed wires and torn metal, but something about the lightsaber felt right in his hand. With a sudden certainty, Hardcase knew it was the lightsaber that had called him here. He ignited the lightsaber and a blue beam of light extended from the hilt with a whoosh. It was beautiful. And it was right.

A slow smile crept up Hardcase’s face, he switched off the ‘saber and got to his feet, holding the it confidently off to the side. He turned his face back to the airbase, ready to go home.

---

“Hardcase! You’re alive!” Fives charged towards Hardcase, grinning like a fool.

“Yeah,” Hardcase said, barely managing to get the words out as Fives pulled him into a tight hug and squeezed the breath out of him. “I survived the crash landing.”

Jesse joined them, hot on Fives’ heals. “The Force is really on your side, brother. We thought we wouldn’t see you again.”

“Oh, you don’t even know the half of it,” Hardcase said with a smirk. He extricated himself from Fives’ arms and unhooked his newfound lightsaber from his belt, igniting it and letting its blue glow wash over his speechless brothers’ faces.

Fives was the first to pick his jaw up off the ground. “Hardcase… Where did you…?”

“That’s not even the good part. Look!”

Hardcase held a hand out in front of him and lifted Fives off the ground. Nothing too drastic—only a meter or two.

“Well karking hell,” Jesse whispered.

Fives’ smirk turned into a beaming smile. “Tell me about it.”

---

A ring of low, opulent chairs circled Hardcase, boxing him in like a squad of clankers coming in on both flanks. General Yoda stared at him from his rounded, plush seat, his clawed fingers clicking as he drummed them against the top of his staff.

“Trooper Hardcase. What brings you before the Jedi Council today?” General Yoda said.

“Well, General, err, Master Yoda,” Hardcase quickly corrected. “I’d like to join the Jedi Order.”

Master Yoda’s eyebrows rose and another member—Ki-Adi-Mundi, Hardcase thought—choked.

“Join the Jedi Order, say you?” Master Yoda said.

“Well, yes. I am a Jedi, after all.”

“Hardcase,” Master Windu said, leaning forward across his knees. “You understand that a person must be Force sensitive to become a Jedi, correct?”

“Yeah. I got that part,” Hardcase said, reaching a hand out and floating his helmet from where he held it at his hip to the center of the room, then pulling it back to him.

They’d all heard his claims before he’d arrived, and still every member of the Council, without exception, wore those stupid faces of shock at the sight. Hardcase almost laughed. Who’d have imagined the all-powerful Jedi could be caught off guard like that?

“Even so,” Master Windu said, the first to regain his composure, “Jedi are trained from infancy to join the Order. It’s not something you can just wake up one day and decide you want to do.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Master Windu. The lightsaber thought I was enough of a Jedi to call to me.”

The clicking of Yoda’s fingers against his staff stopped. “Call to you, it did?”

Hardcase unclipped the lightsaber from his hip and ignited it, a smile rising to his lips as its familiar glow illuminated his face. “Yeah. It spoke to me.”

“What did it say?” Master Windu said.

“I mean, it wasn’t exactly talking. It was more of a feeling. Like, ‘Hey, you! Come over here! Pick me!’”

“Huh.” Master Windu said, and Hardcase couldn’t help but be tickled to see the unflappable Jedi stymied.

“Master Windu, untrained Hardcase may be, but some skill he already has. Afford to let this opportunity go, we cannot. Wills it, the Force does.”

The other Council members murmured amongst themselves, and Hardcase caught a few nods of assent.

“Well who’s going to train him, then?”

Master Yoda smiled. “Master Windu, a Padawan, you have not.”

Master Windu’s face fell, and he looked to Hardcase with a raised eyebrow.

“It’d be an honor, sir,” Hardcase said.

---

Hardcase followed Master Windu as he strode purposefully into Chancellor Palpatine’s office. Windu hadn’t invited Hardcase along as such, but Hardcase was his Padawan. What else was he supposed to do?

Masters Fisto, Kolar, and Tiin were there, too, each of them wearing their serious, “Jedi business” faces. And this was serious business. It wasn’t every day you went to arrest the Chancellor of the Republic for potentially being a Sith lord.

They entered the office and the Chancellor’s chair twirled around, revealing the Chancellor’s too-mild face and too-soft smile.

“Master Windu! I take it General Grievous has been destroyed, then. I must say you’re here sooner than expected.”

Master Windu drew his lightsaber. “In the name of the Galactic Senate, you are under arrest, Chancellor.”

Hardcase and the others drew their lightsabers as well, the blue and green light reflecting off of the Chancellor’s massive window.

“Are you threatening me, Master-?”

Hardcase lunged for Palpatine, stabbing him right through the gut. The Chancellor gasped, his eyes going wide in shock, but not pain. Hardcase imagined he couldn’t really feel anything at that point. He knew from experience the funny way shock could mask agony.

“Wh-what?” the malicious old man croaked, his hand fumbling at his waist.

“Hardcase! What have you done?” Windu said.

Palpatine grabbed a lightsaber hidden under his robes, igniting its red beam and stabbing weakly in Hardcase’s direction. Hardcase easily deflected the blow.

“Your reign is over, Sith,” he spat.

Palpatine looked up at Hardcase with hate in his eyes, the irises turning yellow as his strength failed. “A dirty clone thinks he can best me?”

Hardcase grabbed the Chancellor’s lightsaber by the hilt and tossed it away. He crouched down and got right in Palpatine’s face, looking him hard in the eye. “Oh, I think I just did, sir.”

Palpatine gasped out one final breath, then slumped to the ground. Master Windu rushed to his side, checking his neck for a pulse with two fingers. 

“He’s dead,” he said, looking up at Hardcase with a furrowed brow. “Why did you do that? He was supposed to stand trial.”

Hardcase held his lightsaber up, the pulsing energy from the crystal hidden inside vibrating with reassurance. “He was going to kill us, Master. I could feel it.”

“We can’t just tell the Senate we killed the Chancellor on a hunch.”

Hardcase met his Master’s gaze, his jaw set with determination. “I’ll bear responsibility for my actions. But I knew I had to stop him. He had that feeling—the same one that Krell had. I think that’s why his lightsaber called to me. To make things right.”

Master Fisto walked to the far side of the room and picked up the Sith lightsaber. He ignited it and admired the sanguine blade with a morbid sort of fascination. “Well, he certainly was a Sith. That might make our case easier to make to the Senate.”

“Come,” Master Windu said, getting to his feet. “We need to inform the Council and the Senate.”

Hardcase followed after him without an ounce of doubt in his being. He knew he might be imprisoned or even executed for this, but it was right. Chancellor Palpatine had been playing the Republic and the Separatists against each other this entire time, and his brothers had paid the price. He would be proud to sacrifice himself to stop it. He closed his eyes. Live to fight another day.

---

In the end, Hardcase had Padme Amidala to thank for his freedom. He’s a clone, ordered and programmed to be unquestioningly loyal to the Jedi and the Republic, she’d argued. He deemed, correctly, that Chancellor Palpatine posed an existential threat to the Republic, and he acted per his training, she’d said. All the evidence collected after the fact of Palpatine’s double-dealing and manipulations hadn’t hurt, either. When the true depth of Palpatine’s machinations had been revealed, it had been clear that the man could weasel his way out of any situation if given half a minute to talk.

Senator Amidala’s compelling arguments had also forced the Senate to grapple with the questionable morals of the clones’ training and conscription, an outcome that made Hardcase even happier than his own acquittal. Things were moving much more slowly than he would like, but they were moving. One day, he wouldn’t be the only clone free to move about as he chose.

These thoughts buoyed Hardcase’s steps as he made his way into the Jedi Council chambers, his knees bouncing when he came to a halt in the ornate circle at the center of the room.

“Padawan Hardcase, proposed, it has been, that you be elevated to Knighthood in the Jedi Order,” Master Yoda said.

Master Windu got to his feet and ignited his purple lightsaber. “Kneel.”

Hardcase obediently bowed before Master Windu, closing his eyes and thinking of his brothers as he let the reality of his situation sink in.

“By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force. Hardcase. Rise, Jedi Knight.”

The whirr of Master Windu’s lightsabers sang across Hardcase’s ears, and his chest swelled with pride. Pride in himself, pride in the GAR, pride in his brothers. He got to his feet, head held high.

“Congratulations, Knight Hardcase.”

Hardcase beamed, shoving Master Windu affectionately in the arm. “Thank you! Er, thank you, Master.”

Master Windu rubbed his arm with that annoyed expression on his face, but he gave Hardcase a long-suffering smile.

“I’d like to go see my brothers to celebrate,” Hardcase said.

“Go,” Master Windu said, shooing him away. “Before you break anything.”

“Thank you, Master!”

He dashed off down the hall, so eager to rub his promotion in Jesse’s face that he missed the looks Master Yoda and Master Windu exchanged as he left.

---

“Wrong we were, I think,” Master Yoda said.

“About what? Unfortunately I’ve been wrong about a lot of things lately.”

“The Chosen One, Skywalker never was.”

Master Windu’s gaze followed his overeager apprentice as he clattered through the tranquil halls of the Jedi Temple. He thought of Ponds’ steady presence at his side for so many long campaigns. He thought of the courage in Ponds’ eyes in the face of death. He thought of the thousands of shiny troopers who’d marched into battle with only thoughts of the Republic and each other pushing them forward.

“I think you may be right. I think there may have been many.”

[saltyladynightmare]

Jiliu AU 8.1

Beginning, Previous, Next, Masterlist

A/N:

Long time, no read, my dear audience. I could give you many, many excuses, but I won't. I'll spare you the salt. I hope this chapter, long though it might be, makes up for some of the wait. I have missed writing. More is to follow.

Warnings:

Anakin, Rex and Jesse all think they know things but they don't, even though they can now technically read each other's minds. My typical grammar, spelling and punctuation mistakes, medical inaccuracies, my attempts at writing panic attacks (or the left overs of panic attacks? Was that last chapter? IDK, there is so much here. It might be anxiety????), the clones' situation in general. Mention of starvation, over working, sleep dep, and all the other fun times the Guard go through. Evil Rats.

Also. I cannot write Hardcase to save my life. I love him, but I don't understand him. It is Becoming a Problem. It is incredibly upsetting. If anyone has any character study recs for him, I would be very happy to read them.

~~~~~~

The General handed one of the many, many datapads scattered across the table to Ridge, gesturing expressively with his hands, mouth moving a click a second.

Rex sipped at the water that was so important to his jetii, watching his men and their General interact thoughtfully.

They were reviewing Skywalker's ideas for shielding. The General had vetoed his earlier 'solar system' idea himself for reasons that weren't entirely clear to Rex—something about closed circuits?— but had quickly moved on to explaining a technique he was describing as layered mirrors. While he talked, he swiped through no less than fourteen different datapads scattered across the table top, leaving them open to various documents from the Jedi Archives that apparently supported his idea. As if any of them cared about what the holobooks said.

For his part, Rex had taken a step back.

He had never seen General Skywalker like this outside of the heat of battle, when he shed the cloak of Adviser and Force Sensitive Wild Card he had wrapped himself in so tightly since—Rex really, really hoped—well before he had been assigned to Torrent.

Oh, sure, Rex had seen brief flashes of it in campaign planning in the three weeks he had known him, but it rarely became more than an interesting fact about the local culture that revealed where the heaviest defenses would be, or pointing out what the air currents must be with the land scape being what it was, and even a warning to avoid a then-unknown droid infested valley once.

Anakin Skywalker, newly Knighted Jedi General, adamantly left the planning to Rex and his Lieutenants.

If he was honest with himself, and Rex tried to be, the only reason Rex knew Skywalker was holding himself back was because of what happened when Rex's plans failed.

Every time, without fail, General Skywalker stepped up, and started barking orders. When they needed a miracle, he pulled one out of thin air, or possibly even the Force. As a suicide company, they often needed miracles. Somehow, someway, it worked out better than Rex could have ever hoped...even if the General's plans were more than a little fish-brained. This last mission was just the latest in a string of bad missions.

Bottom line was that it worked. Every. Single. Time. Rex didn't understand it, but he was well past the point of caring now.

He just wished...he could have a genuine conversation with the mind that could spit out fully formed strategies between one moment and the next. Except the General had stepped onto the Resolute with walls sealed water tight around his center.

Then-Rex hadn't cared. Here was just one more being for him to work around. Here was an obstacle that could and likely would order his vod'e to their deaths if given half a reason, or even no reason at all.

Then-Rex was wrong.

Rex had asked himself more than a few times on various missions if his attitude been the thing that well and truly cut him off from the General. Was it something Rex had done? Or was it a learned behavior from well before Rex had ever known Anakin Skywalker existed?

Rex knew which he hoped it wasn't, even if the alternative was worse in regards to the General's life before Torrent, which was already looking pretty bleak to begin with. Lonely.

Kix's exhausted voice draws Rex out of his thoughts. "It all sounds feasible to me, General," he said. "How should we begin?"

The General nods. He was...nervous, Rex realized with surprise. Anxious, almost.

"We can try the shielding in a little while, then, when you've all settled a little more," the General says, no hint of his nerves in his voice. Kix didn't look at Rex, but he could still feel the glare. Rex narrows his eyes at the medic. What was he supposed to do—convince the telepath that they could handle an experiment not even half an hour after he'd sliced into their heads? Right. "In the mean time, we have a few decisions to make. There are choices. We need supplies, and from what I can tell, we aren't getting them, and we won't be." Ghost Blue eyes, only a few shades off from Torrent Blue if their paint looked like it glowed, flick from Vod to Vod.

They nod in agreement, because denying it would do them and their vod'e no favors.

"Our first choice is this: we can either make do with what we get..." The General trails off, near buzzing with the nervousness he wasn't showing. When they don't say anything, simply waiting, he continues. "Or...we get those supplies outside of...official channels."

Rex's spine snapped straight. What?

Jesse cleared his throat. "That's...not a bad idea..." he said quietly.

Ridge crossed his arms, frowning. "Maybe not, but how do you propose we do that?"

The General shrugged almost helplessly. He probably hadn't expected them to take him seriously. It was a trend Rex might've actually hated. Admittedly, if they had been any other group of Vod'e, he likely would have had his work cut out for him convincing them to take this course, but they were Torrent. They had been on their own for long enough to seize any chance to add any amount of padding separating themselves and Death at every opportunity. "I have some ways...I know some people," he admitted sheepishly. "It takes work, but," his eyes met Rex's, and his mouth curved into a hint of a smile, "I don't think any of you have a problem with that."

They did not.

They couldn't afford to.

Denal watched the General somberly. "If we had been assigned to another command, were you planning on giving us this information?"

Anakin shrugged again, and he ducked his head down uncomfortably. "I was going to direct you to Guide. He's a Vod in the Coruscant Guard—"

Rex blinked, baffled. Why would he direct them to a Corrie?

"—and I've shown him a lot of...this kind of thing." The General fiddled with some of the wires on his table. Rex watched his fingers, tracking the slight hitch of the new mechanical fingers. Where had his other mech hand gone? It had been a much better quality. Rex pointedly ignored the insistence in the back of his mind telling him that the General did not fidget, that for him to be doing so now said /something/, even if Rex did not know what. "If you decide this is a good way to go, I'm still going to involve him because I...still can't leave this room without having a seizure."

Everyone winced. Coming out of hyperspace had been unpleasant for everyone.

The General continued, unbothered. "To get raw credits, sabacc or other card games are possibilities, as is betting on various pod races, though the latter is a lot more likely to get you arrested. Credits aren't really necessary, because several of the people I'll be sending you to are usually more than pleased to trade services for goods," he explained, fingers twisting wires and fingernails screwing tiny screws in place. Was he actually building something? "Those goods can then be traded for other things that we can actually make use of, or even trade again for something else."

This all sounded very good. Rex really only saw one rather major obstacle.

Jesse piped up, voicing Rex's thoughts. "We may have issues getting to those places without you, sir." He met General Skywalker's eyes unflinchingly. Warning of danger ahead was his job as a scout, and the General had always heeded him before. "Not every place is as welcoming as the Temple."

The General nodded in agreement, then said rather dryly, "Helmets or masks with hoods are high fashion in those parts."

That...made sense.

Rex's men made their own noises of understanding, and the General went on.

"There are more places that are clone friendly than just 79s, Jesse," Skywalker—and it was Anakin Skywalker saying this, not General Skywalker—told him with the upmost seriousness, "and if we do this thing, than you're going to be visiting quiet a few of those places. Even if those places are homes of people who are more concerned about whether or not you take off you shoes before leaving the foyer, than if you have a perfectly unique face."

Hardcase fiddled with the cuff of his gloves. "Foyer?" He asked almost hesitantly. As hesitantly as Hardcase was about anything.

"Mm," The General hummed. "Foyer. There's a woman, an older Rodian, named Miz. Met her a few years ago, and fixed her air filters and cooling unit. Very good shot with her pistol, and vicious about keeping her spaces clean, so if you don't take your shoes at the door, she will shoot you point blank." Rex would be concerned about how amused the General sounded, but he had seen his jetti do and say crazier. "She's one of the better people at pointing me in the right direction when I'm looking for something in particular."

He looked them over them while they processed this.

One of the biggest challenges Torrent faced with every mission was limited medical supplies. Only having four official medics didn't help, but they could work with that. That being said, no medic, however capable, could do much of anything without even basic supplies, like bandages.

Another obstacle was weaponry. They had blasters for every trooper, but amo ran dry in the middle of missions far more often than anyone was comfortable with. Energy cells could be and were recharged before, during and after missions to alleviate some of that strain, but there was only so much they could do when the standard issue energy cells they were given stopped holding charge every five or so recharges.

Food was...also a concern. There was only so much they could do to stretch rations when under fire.

This...could work.

Rex's bones just about turned to gel, and it was only sheer willpower that kept him from running shaking fingers over his buzz. He had known Torrent had been missing out with the General holding himself back as he had been, but he will admit he hadn't realized the true extent of that truth until now.

Thank the Force Skywalker had finally decided to accept his place among them.

Maybe now they could show him what support felt like on the other end of it.

"How are you feeling now?" The General broke the silence that had settled over them. "Are you ready to learn how to shield a bond?"

No. They were not.

"As we'll ever be, sir," Jesse said anyway.

Hesitation touched the skin between the General's eyebrows. He had, of course, heard what they weren't saying, how they very much did not want to shield anything much less their brand new bonds, but visibly steeled himself, and began explaining the shielding process her had lead Rex himself through earlier.

Rex knew why the General was so insistent on the shielding; he did. He didn't want his jetii experiencing his nightmares either. This knowledge did not make forming and then /holding/ a shield up any easier.

Mind to mind wasn't quite the same with a wall between the participants.

Hoping to help his vod'e with this uncomfortable process, Rex wordlessly passed his understanding of Bond shielding along. The thanks they send back to him in the slant of their shoulders spoke volumes.

Eventually, all of them manage to erect 'thin' shields over their 'side' of the Force Bond under their own power. If the slight crinkles between eye brows, or slight dips in the corners of mouths and the slant of armored shoulders was anything to go by, each and every one of them was just as unhappy with the success as Rex himself was.

Curling into himself almost apologetically, but also looking like he didn't regret making them learn to shield the bond, the General rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. Rex caught his gaze, and held it. The General blinked at him, questioningly. Rex blinked back slowly.

What next, General?

The General stared into Rex's eyes blankly for several seconds. Rex watched in fascination as thoughts zipped through Skywalker's eyes faster than Rex could track. Raindrops on Kamino.

Anakin really wanted to know what Rex expected from him.

The thought flew out of nowhere to nail Rex right in the forehead, and he flinched back.

What in haren was that?

While Rex flailed mentally, scrambling, a new thought struck like lightning. Rex froze, a looming sense of terror rising to curl above him. He shoved it away. His vod'e's head snap around to pin him in place with glares of various intensities. Hardcase missed the mark entirely, but Denal's was particularly searching, and Kix's, as always, was by far the most fiery. He ignored them.

What could they do? Test it.

Skywalker—and he was Skywalker, Rex forcefully reminded himself, as that is how he introduced himself, and so that is what Rex would call him—was the one to voice it.

"If you can barely stand some of the lightest shielding I have ever seen..." he said slowly, "how are you going to handle having two heavy-duty artificial shields between us?"

Jesse swore. Hardcase swallowed hard, eyes darting from Vod to Vod before settling back on Rex again. Ridge stiffened, and Denal paled. Kix, the mir'sheb he was, just grimaced, not particularly surprised.

It would be nice if Kix would share his thoughts more often, Rex laminated to himself. If only so things would stop taking Rex by surprise so often.

Rex gathered himself, just long enough to feel more solid, then said what they were all thinking anyway. "We'll have to send two out to test it." The words came out of his mouth as anything did, but the film they left on his teeth and tongue was bitter. He put the glass of water, half finished, in a clear spot on the table. His fingers quivered slightly as they left the glass, so he curled them into his palm.

What else could they do? It wasn't like they could stay in this room forever. They had to go back to the rest of Torrent at some point.

Its not like they hadn't all lost vod'e before—they could survive it again. It would only be temporary.

The glaring, having slipped slightly at the General's question, snapped back to him, stronger than before.

Kix caught his eye, and Rex forced himself to breath, even as Jesse pulled Skywalker's attention to himself.

In, two, three, four, hold, two, three, four, five, out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

The General is fine, Rex told himself. He doesn't feel dead anymore, hasn't since he had dropped whatever shield he had put up before. He's just...weirdly flat right now.

Distant, almost. Shielded.

It's not natural.

Rex shoved that thought down as far as it could go, and buried it under all the other oisk he wouldn't live long enough to deal with.

The General did not need to hear that. Ever.

Forcing himself to put down roots in the present, Rex turned his attention to his jetii, ignoring the ifs-ands-maybes clamoring for his consideration.

The General blinked, surprised and something else Rex couldn't name. Rex waited, mind carefully blank. The General's eye flick from Jesse, to Rex, then Kix, and back again. "Yeah," he said slowly, "alright. I can comm someone to show the pair around."

"That won't be necessary, sir," Denal said. He looked up from the datapad he had been scrolling through. The one the General had handed Ridge on shielding techniques, if Rex recalled correctly. "We downloaded the Temple map to our buckets when we were transporting you here."

The General raised his eyebrows. He had questions; Rex saw them. He didn't ask any of them. "Normally not," he agreed instead, "but if the chosen two go out and collapse, I imagine things would go much more smoothly if they had someone with them who knew to drag them back here, than if they didn't."

Denal tipped his head in silent acceptance. "Good point, sir."

Looking faintly amused, Skywalker said, "I have someone in mind for that," because of course he did, "but, ah—" at this, his eyes slid hesitantly over to Rex, then away again. "Should we first test my mirror shield idea to see if maybe we could get used to the feeling of shields? Those ones I can at least drop in a second," he offered.

The terror spiked again, but Rex stomped it flat. He forced himself to look at this logically. Rex was very good at being logical. He had raised himself to be that way, to compensate for his defect on Kamino.

He was very good at being logical. It never got easier.

"That is probably," the words grind on the way out, but they do come out, "the smart thing to do," Rex agreed carefully. He had everyone's attention now. Pieces moved together like rusty machinery, but he got them to fit. As he picked up speed, oxidized metal flaked off, smoothing the process. He nodded along with his thoughts as a fuzzy plan took form. "You said before, that your shielding idea was like overlapping armor pieces."

Skywalker nodded, eyes locked on Rex.

Rex raised his chin, and met him head on. "I take point."

Skywalker grinned. "Don't you always?"

[fandomexplosion]

I’m like halfway through season 4 of Clone Wars and I’m really into the idea of having force sensitive clones. But which clones would be force sensitive.

So far I have

Rex

Fives

Hardcase

[cacodaemonia]

*busts through the door like the Koolaid guy*

Whoa. Y'all have to read this!! If you click on that link it will bring you to the most recent part of a Rex-is-Force-sensitive fic that is just incredible so far! But make sure you click on the link in the top notes that will bring you to the first part of the story under an orphan account.

I'm so in love with this fic! And I think many of you will enjoy it, too. It features lots of Cody, Keeli, Kix, and Obi-Wan, too! <3

[clonesdeservebetter]

Hi yes I can totally see the normal clones asking the FS! Clones to do force tricks or levitate stuff for them because seeing a FS!Clone is probably a BRAND NEW thing. You got your jedi, and then you got YOUR CLONE BRO WHO CAN LEVITATE SHIT AND USE THE FORCE.

Hey! Sorry it’s taken me so long to get to this, writing ability has been Non-Existent. I totally agree, though! Where there are those that are like “this is weird”, there will always be those who say “Yeah, but also AWESOME”, so have this. Once again, went a bit off-prompt and overboard, but hey, it be like that. Enjoy!

“Should we really be doing this?” Dogma asked, walking just behind his vode as they approached what the 501st was now calling the Training Grounds “I mean, the general said--”

“What the general doesn’t know won’t hurt him, Dogma,” Hardcase said nonchalantly, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture “Besides, what we’re doing isn’t necessarily dangerous, we’re just having a bit of fun.”

“Going against orders isn’t exactly my idea of fun...” Dogma muttered, but didn’t protest further as they entered the section of the cargo hold that had been transformed into what was, in essence, a safe place for the troops to practice their abilities. It was mostly empty at that moment, most of them having gone to get rest before they reached Coruscant so they had the most amount of energy to spend during their off time, but there was at least one trooper there.

“Hey Fives!” Hardcase called out, causing Tup, Dogma, and Oz to all flinch, as if the shout could’ve alerted Skywalker and Tano to their presence all the way down in the cargo hold “You got a sec?”

The ARC Trooper turned around, his face one of surprise, then confusion, then that look of happiness that held an almost trickster sort of quality to it. The kind of look he and Hardcase tended to share before shenanigans began.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” Tup asked quietly, and Oz sighed.

“Because you have common sense, Tup.” Oz replied, and the group stopped.

“Well, look what the tooka dragged in!” Fives said, walking away from the worktable he had been standing at where... something sat, Dogma wasn’t sure what it was, more than likely a Jedi thing “What brings you to the 501st Temple on this fine day?”

“What, I couldn’t just feel the need to visit a brother and see how his training is coming along?” Hardcase asked in mock offense, and Dogma had to resist rolling his eyes. Fives looked up and down him, appraising the group, and then, completely deadpan:

“You want to see me do cool Force shit, don’t you?”

“Hey! We want to see you do cool Force shit.” Hardcase said, gesturing to the three younger clones. Dogma straightened slightly as Tup and Oz shifted, looking anywhere but the ARC Trooper, who only laughed.

“Can’t promise too much, I’m afraid. Rex is the one that knows how to really use it so far, most I can do is lift things and push other things. Not much else.”

“Yeah, well, the captain actually follows the general’s orders,” Dogma cut in, then adding under his breath “Unlike us, apparently.”

“C’mon, Dogma, live a little! Don’t worry,” Fives walked forward, placing a hand on the younger brother’s shoulder “If I say I was the one who invited you here to show you, I’ll be the one getting in trouble.”

“None of us would be getting in trouble if we weren’t doing this.” 

“Listen, vod,” Tup said gently “If you’re really that worried about it--”

“Then just don’t participate,” Oz finished, crossing his arms “I’m not gonna miss out on this, though. Just think of all the uses it has! Both on and off the battlefield.”

Dogma opened his mouth, but then sighed in resignation, opting to sit on one of the nearby boxes that hadn’t been cleared out of the area yet. Taking that as the go-ahead from the resident Stickler, Fives and Hardcase were instantly in hushed conversation, and Dogma began to look around the place. 

It was obvious that the place used to be a section of the cargo hold, boxes of various supplies scattered about, some used as tables, some smaller ones (like the one he was sitting on) being used as chairs. The lighting that, while not dim, was not bright enough to light up the area “properly”, and it made Dogma have to squint to see in certain areas. There were proper tables and chairs, like the worktable with the strange device on it, but the place itself was rather sparse otherwise. It was quiet, calm, and probably the perfect place to practice using the Force in secret. 

Secret. That was the biggest thing that irked Dogma about this. Not the fact that they were clones training to be, well, not Jedi, but definitely something more than what Kamino had planned, not the fact that there were so few, yet so many at the same time, but the fact that it had to be kept a secret. Dogma didn’t do secrets well. Really, nobody in the 501st did, but the only person probably worse than Dogma was Fives, and even then, he had been able to keep his abilities a secret for so long, how long would it be before Dogma opened his trap and said the wrong thing?

Whatever was in charge of the Force should’ve kept its hands to itself, instead of spreading over his vode. Everything was so much more complicated than before, and it ate Dogma up. That, and how relaxed so many of them seemed to be with it. 

He particularly mused on that thought as he watched Fives balance several boxes on top of each other by their edges, the tower teetering dangerously as Oz, Tup, and Hardcase watched, completely enraptured by the performance. Dogma couldn’t help but feel many things at once: worry, frustration, resignation, and, somewhere in his gut, he felt the tight coil of jealousy in his system. 

‘The least the damn Force could’ve done was given it to all of us.’ He thought bitterly as the tower was dismantled, the boxes now just spinning idly just off the ground. He watched as Hardcase climbed on top of one, unsteady but eager, and let out an excited laugh as Fives made it fly around the room. Hardcase gripped the box for dear life, and, despite the image that made Dogma’s anxiety spike so bad he was worried he would have to go see Kix for it, both Tup and Oz did the same.

He watched the three fly around the room, far from graceful, laughing and screeching like they were cadets in the flight simulators for the first time. His eyes drifted to Fives, who, although he seemed at ease, was obviously in deep concentration, the effort of his actions causing him to scrunch his brow and breathe deep. 

Dogma felt something twinge inside him, like a spark trying to light a fire, but to avail (an old memory, swept up in the wind). He pushed the feeling aside, and looked back up at his vode having the absolute times of their lives. 

“C’mon Dogma, live a little!” The words echoed in the back of his mind, and Dogma sighed. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. Fives must’ve sense Dogma’s change in attitude, because he saw a smirk appear on the ARC Trooper’s face, and Dogma yelped as the box underneath him jolted upward slightly, causing Dogma to shift his position so that he was holding onto it, his knees tucked underneath him.

Dogma couldn’t help it as he began to move around, he laughed, breathless. Hardcase said something to him, but Dogma couldn’t hear it over the blood rushing in his ears.

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

(Later, Kix would deny having seen any of them for box-flying related injuries, but they were all barred from the cargo hold for a week afterwards anyways.)

((“Worth it.” Hardcase said.))

(((”I hate you.” Dogma replied.)))

[rexxdjarin]

Mari would be in about her mid-70s when Kix is found again.

Force willing if Rex is still around they’d make it their mission to find him.

And if Rex, do to his advanced aging, somehow isn’t anymore…that would only make Mari’s resolve to find him even stronger.

And Kix would see a face he truly recognized for the first time in half a century. The beloved heart of his Captain, the soul of him lives with her and always had since the day they met.

Mari would tell Kix all about how his brother lived. How Rex survived it all. How Ahsoka survived it all. Together they helped the Rebellion take down the evil that Kix was committed to stopping before he was frozen in time. That his brother took care of things the way he always did—with the unparalleled moral strength and warriors resolve that only Rex would have.

And oh his beloved blonde brother had a son of his very own. A wonderful, brilliant, force sensitive boy who himself was well into his 40s now. And though Kai had his beautiful Mother’s fire and a Jedi’s empathetic wisdom, he wore his Father’s face. He looked so much like Rex—so much like Fives, Echo, Hardcase, Tup and Jesse—so much like Kix’s own reflection that there was no doubting Rex had lived and carried on for all his brothers.

Mari sees Kix and hugs him close for he is family and giving them the justice of a full life was all her and Rex had ever truly wanted.

[mikeluciraphgabe]

AU where Rex and Cody get thrown into their past bodies, early days of the Clone Wars, and have the chance to fix everything.

They immediately kill Palpatine (leaving no trace of who did it, making it look like an accident/suicide actually.) Then they yell at the Jedi council because what the fuck. After that, they tell everyone about the chips and all the clones are saved from them.

Obviously the war isn’t over just because Palpatine is dead. They do manage to help Obi-Wan and Anakin capture Maul, Dooku, Grievous etc (Cody has to physically restrain Rex from murdering them because “IT’S ON SIGHT- LET ME AT HIM-“)

With most of the major leaders gone, the war only lasts a year or so more because of people who wanted them to win and tried to take over etc etc

Rex and Cody throwing hands with anyone who comes too close to hurting their brothers, Ahsoka, Anakin and Obi-Wan

Eventually everyone gets a little suspicious about their knowledge and shit but don’t care because of the fact they won the war.

They help their brothers find jobs outside of the military for the ones who don’t want to continue to be in it. For the ones who do stay, they make sure they are treated well with the help of Obi-Wan, Anakin and Ahsoka.

Ahsoka still leaves the order but, with the war gone, Anakin goes with her. (No more Darth Vader, yay!) Obi-Wan is conflicted with a lot of things until Cody kicks him in the ass and Obi-Wan leaves the order, finding his favorite people (Rex and Cody in tow bc their job is basically done now) and they all live as a happy family on some random planet.

They even find some force sensitive clones/kids/young adults/etc (yes Fives, Echo, Hardcase, etc are here) and teach them a new way.

Not the Jedi way

Not the Sith way

Their way

[fluff-and-such]

I luv your Ani-Vader au so much! Any spare thoughts or headcanons about it? I would be delighted to hear anything you got about this brilliant au.

If not that’s totally a-ok. Your art is wonderful!

Hello! Sorry for taking so long to answer this.

So in Ani-Vader au, the twins still happen :D

Baby Leia wants to be just like her dad when she grows up. Yes this includes being seven feet tall, never-mind how short Padme is. She's going to be General Skywalker 2.0, and command her own 501st to help people across the galaxy. I mean, she already has all the clones wrapped around her tiny toddler fingers. Hardcase is just waiting for the day he can teach her to hold a blaster, Echo and Fives regularly compete for the title of 'Best Uncle', and Rex just can't say no to that face.

Luke is doing his best Auntie-Ahsoka cosplay. Coincidentally, she'll become his master later in life - perhaps not necessarily as a Jedi.

Things don't go down quite the same as in canon. Ahsoka still leaves the temple, and still goes after Maul. Anakin and Obi-Wan still go to rescue the Chancellor...and rather than execute Count Dooku, Anakin spares his life. Dooku may have cut off Anakin's arm, but then, he lost every other limb on his body to a random explosion. Anakin just isn't as far under Palpatine's control, isn't as in-tune withe Dark Side.

Dooku lives, and tells the Jedi what he knows about Sidious. They don't manage to kill him, but they can expose him, drive him out of the Senate.

(I haven't decided exactly what happens with Order 66 yet lol)

In the aftermath, the galaxy has a governing nightmare on its hands. The head of both the Republic and the CIS has been abruptly removed, not to mention the chunk of the galaxy that Maul had been influencing. There's also the matter of the clones, which Padme throws her whole nine-months-pregnant-with-twins self at with gusto. She's not alone of course, with Senators Organa, Chuchi and Mothma and the bulk of the Jedi providing enthusiastic support.

When Luke and Leia are born, Anakin steps away from his path as a Jedi, to instead walk the path of a father.

Other Notes;

Bail becomes Chancellor after they usurp Palpatine.

He later takes Leia as a protege. Between her mother and Bail, not to mention her force sensitivity, she becomes a force to be reckoned with among the senate.

Anakin and Luke and Speeders are a match made in Heaven. Or Hell, if you're Obi-Wan.

Once the dust is settled, I think Anakin, Ahsoka, the kids and maybe Obi-Wan would create their own school for force-sensitives.

There are force-sensitive clones at this school.

Ani was doing a lot of thinking about how he was missed as a child because he was in the outer rim. Their school has a lot of focus on reaching out to children in areas with the Jedi can't go.

I'm not sure who Leia's master will be. Maybe Obi-Wan?

They do run into Han, years and years later.

Boy is he in for a surprise when Leia brings him in to meet mom n dad.

Mom is the second most well-known face in the republic.

And dad is the first. That helmet-face is distinct.

Dad is super into Han's piece-of-junk ship though, and they talk for three hours about all the work he's put into it. Then Luke shows up, and the talk for three more.

It's actually Luke and Leia's several thousand identical uncles that Han really has to worry about. Anakin trusts that his daughter can handle herself (he's seen her saber-skills after all.) The Clones trust that they will bury anything that messes with 'The Princess'.

Omega is prolly best-buds with the twins.

Ezra too for that matter.

[hrtiu]

Chaotic Good Pt 2

Imagine all the chaos force-sensitive Hardcase would wreak. From this fic.

[saltyladynightmare]

Jiliu AU Part 8.3

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A/N:

Welcome! to the part of this chapter that refused to be pried from my subconscious like gum out of braces. I managed, but its not perfect, and it’s going to stay that way.

Since I began writing this, I have discovered How to Plot, and...this story has no real plot. I though about everything I want to cover, and decided: that is okay. I am here for fluff, and awesomeness, not story. I hope you all can forgive me.

That being said, Palpatine will not be dying in this book, unfortunately, because I cannot rehash the entire Clone Wars just so I have have my previously planned assassination. I might write a second thing for that, mostly because it is Awesome, if I do say so myself, and I haven’t really seen him die the way I want him to, and such a thing should exist. If you have thoughts, let me know, either in the comments on this post in my asks box.

On the plus side, we will be meeting Appo, who I adore in the few fanfics that actually bother to write him (understandable, but do you know what you could do with a guy named after Appa? The arrow tattoos alone...).

I dont think there are very many warnings for this part.

Mostly, just Anakin being angsty, and emotionally and socially incompetent. If any of you feel differently, let me know.

~~~~~~

On the second mission Anakin had convinced Obi-wan to bring him on, he had been left to guard their camp in a forest of tall trees and dense undergrowth for the night. The then Jed Knight had gone on ahead to evaluate the path they would take the following day with their hopefully rescued quarry.

For the first half hour or so, Anakin had been more upset about not being taken along than about being left alone. Now, having taught twelve years old himself, Anakin couldn't blame Obi-wan for his decision. The forest had been safe enough for a pre-teen with he Force and a lightsaber he was proficient with. Where Obi-wan had gone had been much less so.

Still. When the flare of wounded pride had died down in twelve-year-old Anakin, it had sunk in that it was the first forest he had seen with his own eyes that wasn't in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The first forest he had felt through the Force. The first time Anakin experienced just how dark it got under a dense canopy, surrounded on all sides by thick underbrush.

He had been alone on a planet he was excruciatingly unfamiliar with in many many ways because he and Obi-wan, as Jedi, had been sent to retrieve a political figure who was nearly the only thing standing between the entire planet and a massive fleet of pirates.

Pirates who dealt in spice, precious materials, parts, and murder.

Pirates who had a reputation of owning slaves.

And there he'd been. All of twelve years old, barely on his second mission, and while, yeah, he had been regularly venturing on his own into the lower levels of Coruscant on his own, that was Coruscant. You couldn't walk twenty meters without running into someone, most of whom did not have your best interests at heart, but you also couldn't take ten steps without coming across a new and strange escape route. Less, if you were small and got creative.

There? In that forest? Anakin could only think of maybe three ways he could go, and none of them had good odds.

Anakin had been fine in the end, which was only reasonable. No one except Obi-Wan had known where he was, they had been traveling by tree branch, and so hadn't left a trail to be followed on the ground for several miles, and Anakin had been 84.67% certain they had made it through the blockade without detection. There had been no reason for anyone to find him, because there was no reason to look.

It had still taken Anakin what felt like an impossibly long time to breath through his anxiety, his fear, of being alone on a planet he did not know the first thing about, silhouetted by bright sparking flames, exposed for anyone and anything that might come and claim him. Alone, with only his lightsaber, a cloak, and his tool kit. Even his comm hadn't worked well on that planet. 

In the end, if had been the fire that pulled him out of what he learned hears later was a panic attack.

When one was trying to hide, light was not a good thing. Any Child of the Desert could tell you that soon after they could string sentences together reliably.

But they could also tell you that fire was more than just light.

Fire had been a rarity in the slave quarters, mostly because burnables had been just as rare, and there had always had more uses for juniper wood than just burning it. As such, fires had only been lit when someone had gotten married, or found a family thought lost, or, every once in a while, a Child's chains had been broken. Fire had meant dancing and celebrations for Anakin, growing up.

The snap pop of the wood, the crackle of flames was a sound he had only ever heard from fire, and he had no related bad memories for it to summon. The brilliant red orange gold of the flames flickered, casting ribbons of light and shadow dancing across his surroundings, casting his own shadow long and stretched behind him. Whatever wood he and Obi-wan had been burning had made the purple smoke smell like flowers. Sparks floated above his head, sparkling against the dark and smoke alike.

Most importantly, the fire had been hot. Hot enough to make Anakin warm for the first time in actual years. It had only taken a touch of the Force to cocoon himself in some of the heat radiating from the small fire.

Anakin remembered that fire fondly. Fires were still his favorite part of setting camp, whether it was just him and Obi-wan with nothing but their cloaks for shelter, or the entirety of Torrent or the 212th.

Ahsoka's Force Signature reminded Anakin of a campfire.

Bright, warm, beautiful, helpful.

Dangerous, burning, and with more potential for both good and bad than Anakin knew a single person could have.

Sometimes, Anakin found himself wondering if she was what a shatterpoint felt like.

Right then, Ahsoka's cheerfully crackling flames were on the other side of the door of the teeny tiny room Anakin couldn't leave.

With how sensitive he was, he had felt her getting closer, of course. Once she had passed the first shield outside his room, he'd been able to pin point her exact location, too. She still somehow crossed the distance from there to the other side of his door in less time than he had expected.

Had she been running? Why hadn't a Healer stopped her, like they always did unruly Padawans?

A quick glance at the nearest datapad told Anakin it had only been thirteen minutes since he had commed her. Impressive. Had she followed his Signature here, or the gossip mill?

She knocked on the door energetically again.

Ha. It seemed she hadn't learned politeness in his absence. Good for her.

"Your guide is here," Anakin announced, turning to Jesse and Ridge expectantly.

The men twitch at his words, then do the almost slump that is more in their emotions than in their shoulders Vod'e did when exasperated or whatever Basic word fit the feeling of having just missed a poorly aimed blaster bolt you had been more than ready to catch with your saber only to be let down by the opposing side's lackluster skills. Some kind of tension Anakin hadn't noticed until it was no longer humming against his shields and through his new bonds drained away.

Anakin's eyes flick from Vod to Vod. What had he just missed?

Catching that, Ridge shook his head. "Don't worry about it, sir." He got up, and moved around the table to prod at Jesse's leg. Jesse groaned theatrically, but hauled himself up to his feet with little difficulty. Ridge clicked his tongue, and knocked their vambraces together.

Vod'e did that instead of rolling their eyes when they didn't feel the need to hide. With how much time they spent in their helmets it only made sense. Physically rolling their eyes was for when they wanted to express themselves, without the risk of being caught. Though if they actually thought of that particular mannerism like that, Anakin would eat his robes.

Eyeing them speculatively, Anakin considered Ridge's suggestion for a moment, then accepts it. There was no lie in Ridge, not even a white lie, so he genuinely did not believe Anakin needed to worry about, and so Anakin would trust him.

Jesse scoffed at the younger Vod, and herded him around to where someone had at some point stacked all of their helmets, and fished both their buckets out. He rammed Ridge's helmet into his gut hard enough to make him grunt. Ridge scowled, and yanked his bucket out of Jesse's grasp, putting it on. Jesse chuffed while he dropped his own onto his head.

"See you in a few hours, Ridge," Denal jeered. "Or a few seconds."

"K'oyaacyi, vod'e," Hardcase called.

"Bye, Hardcase." Jesse said fondly. "You're my favorite vod."

Anakin snorted, and Kix tutted, while Ridge and Denal grin. Rex ducked his head, and Hardcase straight up laughed in Jesse's face.

"Kix is your favorite," Hardcase threw one of his ration bars at Jesse's head from where he had propped himself up in the bed nook. Jesse gasped, absently snatching the bar out of the air, radiating utter betrayal that was ruined by the undercurrent of amusement.

"Why you—" Jesse started, but Ridge, seemingly ready to go, just shoved him at the door. Jesse, hyper competent lieutenant of Torrent he was, made his overdramatic flailing useful and smacked the door keypad when he was close enough.

Anakin stomped on the flinch summoned by the rush that floods though the door, and took a moment to be very glad he was not attached to a heart monitor. That would have been embarrassing, to have everyone hear how his hear stuttered under the strain of a door opening. Since the healers could feel his Force Signature even with the two artificial shields and Anakin's own shields up and running, it wasn't needed. It was, however, part of why he usually fixated on something before the door opened. He had...forgotten to do that this time.

Which means everyone in the Temple felt him flinch. Fantastic.

When the door closed behind Torrent's scout and comm technician, the strain they both felt was immediate. It echoed down the bonds to rattle Anakin's layered mirrors, just as Ahsoka's delight, bright-brilliant-burning, seared across his solid outer shields.

Both men dropped the gossamer-fine shields he'd had to coax them into putting up in the first place like thermal detonators. As they should.

If they don't remember how to put them back up again, he could walk them through it when they got back. They had learned it quickly enough the first time, it wouldn't be a big deal to do it again. The point of this exercise was to see if the Vod'e could leave his room without having panic attacks, not to increase their already impressive self-discipline.

One less shield, however, didn't seem to help.

After a few beats, Anakin carefully peeled back his own gossamer shields between his mirror layers, one by one. Then, when that only helped a little, he dropped an entire layer of mirrors on each bond.

The relief from both men was immediate, a breath of fresh air after too long in a spice mine.

Anakin let himself settle a little.

The four men still in his room murmured to each other, while Anakin waited until he felt Ahsoka, Ridge and Jesse pass the second shield. When they did, and nothing like alarm or the flatness of unconsciousness came from the bonds, Anakin pulled himself back into his body.

He had to trust Jesse and Ridge to handle themselves, and he had to trust Ahsoka to bring them back even if they reach their limits without realizing. There wasn't much else he could do.

Even if it did feel like the bonds groaned ominously against the burden of stretching through two heavy duty shields so soon after completion.

Hopefully, Ahsoka would think to bring them to a refractory, and bring lunch back for the others. Hopefully, they'll like Ahsoka. Couldn't imagine why they wouldn't, Ahsoka was fantastic, and his favorite student—not that he would ever say that out loud.

Even if he wasn't going to be a Jedi long enough to take her as his Padawan, give her the training she wanted, needed, deserved, it would still be nice if his new and old people liked each other.

Now that was a strange thought.

His people.

He could get used to it.

"So." Anakin flexed his fingers, and smiled at his men. "Shall we?" At their nods of agreement, he dug up several blank datapads, or ones that were close enough to such for this purpose, and handed them out, explaining as he went. "I have a lot of ideas, and it would be faster if I just tell you what I think of, and bounce from subject to subject while each of you catch up to whatever info I give you, instead of me just using the speech to text function on my datapad. So if you each pick a subject, we might be able to get this done before Ahsoka brings Ridge and Jesse back."

Through that wordless communication, each Vod settled on a topic to take notes for with an easy efficiency Anakin had long since begun to expect from them.

Rex got saddled with food, as Ridge, who would be the one actually doing the work of securing the supplies for Torrent, was absent and could not take notes himself.

The rations they would be assigned by the GAR wouldn't be enough now. It had been lean times before, but now, if what Anakin thought might be possible actually was possible, it wouldn't be anywhere near survivable, much less enough. After all, the more Sensitive a sentient was, the more calories they burned. And Anakin had every intention of giving as much of his Sensitivity to his men as they would accept. But. That was for later.

For now, they would need to get more of everything, first of all.

Rex dutifully typed up the list of all the dried foods Anakin rattled off the top of his head that were not only dust cheep if bought in bulk, but also tasted decent and actually had all of the advertised nutrients, and where to find them.

Spices were cheap if you knew where to look—and by the suns, did Anakin know, that had been one of the first things he had gone looking for when he was feeling more like a person and less like a tool—and they could only help moral, really.

The sub levels grew more than algae to supply all of the oxygen all the sentients on Coruscant needed to breathe, after all, and he had smuggled the seeds of all the spices and plants he had grown up with down to his supplier years ago. Odds were, they grew other spices for themselves, or even other customers too.

Privately, Anakin fully intended to get his latest order sent to the Resolute as soon a possible. He'd pay the shipping fee for the service, no problem. He was not getting back on that ship without his weight in tzai, alright? If only so he could wash down the rations.

Rex, who might actually be able to read his mind now, narrowed his eyes at him, like he knew Anakin wasn't telling him everything, but doesn't press.

Denal got the datapad for weapons. Both he and Hardcase would be on that particular pickle. Hardcase because that was what he did, and Denal because he was terrifying.

Anakin, rather unfortunately, was much less knowledgeable about how and where, and what can be gotten in terms of weapons on Coruscant, especially in the numbers they would be needing them. He'd have to fix that at some point. He knew a lot more about how to get armor, but, again, not in bulk. Weapons would be easier, if only because there was always someone who wants to kill a lot of people, and someone else who was willing to sell the firepower necessary for that.

Anyway, GAR standard is junk, and anyone who has ever handled another weapon can attest to that. Almost anything after that would be an upgrade.

Anakin ended up just rattling off a few people who would either have some of what they might be looking for, or be able to direct them to someone who did, such as Padmè's handmaidens.

"You'll need to be careful," he warned Denal. Possibly unnecessarily, but it would be better for him to say it and it not be needed, than for it to be needed and him not to say it. "Where you will be going, the people you will be dealing with, they will cheat you out of house and home. Be respectful, but be aware. Test everything, and never pay up front until you have done so. Just because the first nine blasters are what you want doesn't meant the tenth will be too."

Denal nodded seriously, and Hardcase mirrored him. Satisfied, Anakin moved on.

All things medical, of course, went to Kix, who would be assisted by Coric and Jaded. Risk would be staying with the bulk of Torrent, just in case, in Kix's words, some di'kut got a bright idea on their off hours.

Anakin would never say this to Kix's face, because he's seen what the medics had one to their break room and the rather impressive distillery set up they had in one of the otherwise unused rooms on the Resolute and he would never disrespect their efforts that way, but he had seen better equipped Freedom Trail pit stops, which was saying something. The medbay on the Resolute was horrifyingly barren.

Unlike weapons, however, Anakin had spent a great deal of time learning the tricks and tips on how, where, and who from to get medical supplies in the lower levels. The good stuff, too.

If Kix was surprised when Anakin practically regurgitated an information database worth of places and people to contact for gauze, dissolvable stitches, plasters, tape and commercial grade disinfectant, just to name a few things, for very good prices, he didn't show it. He just took note of who Anakin said might be willing to trade either services or even the never ending supply of stims Torrent got like clockwork every supply run whether they asked for them or not, radiating a deep seated sense of grim satisfaction.

Leaving him to make lists of things he needed, things he wanted, and things that would be nice to have, Anakin just gave him a few more places that may or may not also have things that were more difficult to get, like bacta, or IV fluids, depending on the day, and moves to the next topic.

Hardcase, when given the option of credits and entertainment, chose entertainment.

Anakin, having been working on this particular list since week four of the war, just handed over his own personal datapad, already opened to the note. It mostly consisted of the lists of holobooks and vids he had created when he was nine, and ten, and eleven, and the list of textbooks and documentaries he had watched over the years.

Anakin had enough datachips lying around, getting several copies of everything wouldn't be a big deal. It was also definitely going to be one of the easier tasks for them to do. Unleash a few squads of former shinies with a couple clans of Initiates in the Archives with handfuls of the blank chips, and its be done in hours.

Anakin /had/been requesting datapads every chance he got, for the past few months, so while everyone would have to share...there would definitely be options for down time if he had anything at all to say about it.

Judging by how enthusiastically Hardcase was typing, datapad propped up on his raised knees from his place on Anakin's bed, he was more than pleased with Anakin's ideas.

For himself, Anakin took to typing everything thing he could think of to gain credits or favors in the lower levels. He added some of the unspoken rules that governed the places such things were possible, with frequent reminders to listen to the more thorough debriefing they would be receiving from whichever Vod Fox sent to aide them.

If Fox could come through for him.

If he couldn't, well. They'd just have to deal, as they always had. So long as no one got themselves shot, it would turn out fine.

While he was thinking about it, Anakin also listed the names, and brief descriptions, of the people who would make or break their efforts down there.

Should he—? Anakin's fingers hovered over his keypad indecisively. He glanced up, attention flicking from man to man, each engrossed in their own tasks. His eyes catch on the tattoo inked into Kix's buzz.

Yes. He should.

If asked, he typed carefully, and only if asked, you should say Rain had said that place, wherever you might be, was a good place for a game, or a race, or whichever, depending on where you are.

It probably wouldn't offer much by way of protection, but Anakin had spent years building a reputation in the lower levels, and by the will of the Force, was it going to be useful for something now.

It was a start, and that day, that was all they needed. A start.

At some point, Hardcase asked, "What's Jesse going to do?"

Anakin's smile went crooked. "I have the impression that the scouts need all the managing they can stand when they get bored. We don't actually know how long we're going to be here," he reminded him.

Hardcase giggled, beaming. "Good point, sir."

Given Anakin's...medical situation, they didn't know how long they might have before they could be redeployed.

Vod'e, as a whole, had been designed to keep up with Jedi. Which was great on the field, because it meant Anakin didn't have to slow down as much as he would have with drafted sentients, and it was really really cool that they could out last him on jogs. It also meant they started climbing the walls when crammed in the tin cans the GAR called ships.

Granted, the Resolute was meant to be run by about 900 people, and Torrent did not have a ship crew, and so had to run the ship themselves, with their 300 plus manpower. This meant they had to do the jobs of four men minimum, because they also had to do their own trooper duties, like restocking their kits, and cleaning the ship, and cooking all of their meals. Torrent was used to being busy.

With what they were planning, there would be no shortage of tasks to be done—and they would get it done.

This was also Torrent's first shore leave. Down time came with the territory.

"How do you feel about shifts? Half—no, wait—a third doing these tasks, a third sleeping, and a third off shift?" Anakin inquired. Denal squinted at him questioningly. Anakin eyed him right back. "We are on leave, so the men should have down time to, I don't know, go to 79's, or check out the jungle gym the Guard like to patrol around when they have time, or even voluntarily spend time in the Archives."

If this would also cut down on the number of men in the lower levels at the same time, well. That could only be beneficial. The less they were out, the less likely they would be caught, right?

"What about the Resolute?" Denal asked.

Hm. Good point. With no permanent crew, Torrent was still responsible for the care and keeping of the Resolute. Thankfully, being in dock, it took a lot less effort than normal, if only because, with less people on it, they didn’t have to do nearly as much cleaning.

Though, who's to say Torrent had to be the ones to run the ship? Anakin knew a lot of people who not only owed him favors, but also knew people who owed him favors who were spaceport managers.

Admittedly, calling in those favors for a GAR class ship would almost definitely draw a connection from Rain, lurker of the lower levels and expert pod-racer, and Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, but, well. Needs must. He'd just have to trust in his makeup skills and peoples' general inability to connect the dots.

Now. Which set of favors should he call in?

"We docked at Coruscant 6-80, right?" Anakin asked, referring to the port they had docked at.

"Yes, sir," Rex confirmed.

Not the best starting point if they not only want easy access to the ship, but also keep what they were planning discreet. Also not the worst. The chosen babysitting port would need to be GAR sanctioned, but Anakin knew of five such ports with people who owed him, so that wasn't an issue. No, the biggest problem would definitely be finding a reason for moving their ship. How to fix that?

Anakin could call in another favor, hut he'd rather not, as it was only the fourth month of the war, and he'd already used so many favors, not even count all of the ones he was about to call in.

To save fuel, the GAR, reasonably, preferred to avoid moving ships of any build more than absolutely necessary. In fact, short of an engine failure, it wasn't  done—

Anakin straightened a hair.

That was an idea. It wouldn't even take a favor. One of the Vod'e could do it.

"How would you feel," Anakin said slowly, pieces slowly fitting together, "about moving her to Coruscant 40-76?"

Confusion rippled through the room, reflected on their faces, and Anakin smiled.

He explained without prompting. "Its a smaller official GAR hanger, meant for ships in need of maintenance. Specifically, ships without assigned Jedi who need quick access to the Temple." He started shuffling through his datapads, trying to remember if he had one with the reports explaining which pre-built ports had been seized for GAR use, which had been built from scratch, and what purposes had been assigned to each. Anakin remembered reading it, but he was also pretty sure he'd been hiding in Fox's office at the time, so it probably wasn't on the table. While sorting, he continued, because he knew this was correct, and these men had long since shown they were more than willing to take him at his word before the bonds, so he would trust them to do the same now, "It's farther from the barracks, too, but not too far either, I don't think. And, uh, I may or may not," he smiled at Kix, who would probably appreciate this the most, given how often Anakin had heard Jesse say it to him and Rex, "know some people who may or may not owe me some favors who happen to work there."

Not that it would be needed, if they did it themselves, and then followed procedure, but—heh. Can't say that kind of stuff out loud where strangers could hear.

The four of them exchange glances and flickers of information in the the Force Anakin could only describe as incredulous, then turn back to him. He smiled beautifully, cackling internally. He could see them asking themselves what they had gotten into now. Only Hardcase looked excited about it.

"The Resolute doesn't need maintenance," Denal did not ask. Anakin felt the question through the brand new, freshly shielded bond anyway.

Anakin raised his eyebrows in faux surprise, fighting off a grin. "No?" He asked innocently. "I could have sworn I heard some of the engineers talking about something making weird sounds in the starboard sub light engines before our last mission. Maybe the report got lost in the rush to get me here?"

Understanding dawned in Rex's eyes a fraction of a second before it did in Kix's, but Denal and Hardcase are quick to follow. Anakin let himself smirk, self-satisfied, and Kix gave in to the urge to rub at his temples, looking as done as a man can get.

"Denal—" Rex stated, turning.

"I'll check with the head engineer when we get back to the barracks tonight," Denal said, already tapping at his comm, likely making a note for himself.

Rex nodded sharply, then turned back to Anakin, perfectly blank faced except for a gleam in his brown eyes Anakin had only seen from him a handful of times. Usually right before he did something Anakin thought only he was impulsive enough to do.

Hardcase, seemingly catching the same gleam, bounced a little in his seat, his Signature' soft bioluminescent glow brightening to a near sparkle.

Anakin smiled at both of them.

He's pretty sure this is what love felt like. Recognizing aspects, and appreciating where they came from.

Reminded, suddenly, that he didn't know Torrent as well as he could, Anakin's smile faded. That would have to change, now that they were doing this.

Well. Its not like he doesn't have other reasons to spend time with them, now. It would be okay, socially, if he asked for help doing all of the research they were going to have to do to get all of this done in a reasonable manner, right?

"Jesse and Ridge are doing alright," Anakin started slowly. How to not make this sound like an order? "If nothing goes wrong with the trial run, I could have the Vod'e who would like to accept the bond tomorrow help me with the research?"

Rex's nose scrunched for just a second before smoothing out, his displeasure speckling like flecks of acid against Anakin's new bond shields. It took everything in him to keep from flinching at the sensation, and even more to keep his spine straight at the older brother's ire.

"Yes, sir," Rex agreed. "I'm thinking Nausea, his fellow card nexu, and either Risk or Jaded for the first squad. I was thinking we'd draw lots from volunteers for the other four men."

Jaded was one of Kix's medics, Nausea was too, but he was probably being selected so they could start on the credit collecting. But, who was Risk? Anakin tilted his head slightly, and asked.

Kix was the one to answer. "CT-7346."

Oh. Anakin smiled. "He picked a name, then?"

Kix hummed in agreement, pleased. "Yes. He'll help Nausea make sure the rest of them don't distract you with research questions when you're supposed to be eating. A second medic might also encourage the sabacc players to keep the cards in their utility belts," he drawled.

Rex countered Kix with barely a pause between them. "A game or two probably wouldn't be the end of the world."

Oh. Oh.

Anakin ducked down to needlessly scroll on his 'pad to hide a smile. Rex didn't want him to use work as an excuse to get to know his bothers. He didn't mind if Anakin got to know them more informally. He might even want that, Anakin marveled.

Showing mercy, Rex directed his lieutenants' attention back to planning. Anakin sent him a blip, carefully weighed and measured to be as close to the strength he'd been feeling the men send between themselves, of appreciation. Rex jerked, but, a few heart racing moments later, sent something that felt like a hesitant acknowledgment-no problem in return.

Three hours and forty-six minutes after they left, Ahsoka escorted Jesse and Ridge back to Anakin's tiny room. They bore lunch for everyone and holos of the Room of a Thousand Fountains and various hallways as the fruits of their efforts.

Anakin forced himself to unravel from his protective cringe away from the flood of stimulation rushing through the door to flick a greeting at Ahsoka before the door closed behind Ridge. Her Signature flared in surprised delight, and the door slid shut.

Kix and Rex stared at him in narrow-eyed concern at his poorly concealed huff of relief at the reprieve, but Anakin ignored it. He distracted them by pointing at the different things on the trays, and explaining what they were.

If Anakin sneakily took note of what food which Vod liked from the various trays, that was his business, and would definitely not be used as a potential surprise down the line. Maybe.