#how do they have the 7th corps? and how are they only the 212th battalion? cause there’s 512 battalions in the first systems army ALONE!

[andi-o-geyser]

just another day wasting away in margaritaville trying to figure out how the actual fuck the Grand Army of the Republic is organized. send assistance i am shaking sobbing crying in a corner

[battlekilt]

13. How much planning do you do before writing?

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

23. How do you choose where to end a chapter (if you have multi-chapter works)? 👀

13. How much planning do you do before writing?

Answered here.

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

Have another one.

Recently, a new wave of Troops swelled and crashed onto the decks of the Negotiator, and brought with them a tidal wave of noise that crested upwards, and peaked past the usual deafening din the Commander had already become accustomed to. Eventually, they would disperse out into the 7th Sky Corps, the 407th Engineering Corps, the 501st Legion, the 104th, the 212th Attack Battalion, or anywhere else in the 3rd System Army.

Many would walk her narrow gangways, traverse through her broad passageways, cross her junctures, run over her ramparts, duck under a starfighter’s hot engine, and look out her view ports; some would barely step from one transport then went onto another. Before any Clone left, with the promise to see her again, he found a spot hidden to all eyes, and carved his designation into her body. Several went as only numbers, earned their names, and brought them back to her like a courting gift. Not a carved designation was ever painted or polished over.

Some men would stay in the end. A few would return to this mighty ship like an old, familiar friend. Many would see her for a last time and never again; their lives lost to the stars she sailed in. Her sorrow? That they never knew to say farewell. There wasn’t a single soul who passed through her that she could ever forget, and not a man forgot her; always remembered like a man both lover and child lost.

Far into the future, when she had been stripped for newer ships of greater glory, plundered by scavengers, their names would remain immortalized alongside hers, and together… they’d see when the last stars went dim, long after the last echo of life within her hull had faded away.

[Basically, any time I let Cody trick me into letting him babble about the Negotiator (the STARSHIP, you cretins), his emotional mistress. He's a maudlin old soul who should live out his days on a sailing boat. My "lines" just don't have the same punch without the context. Thus, you get a teaser. Suffer gladly.]

23. How do you choose where to end a chapter (if you have multi-chapter works)? 👀

When the scene has exhausted itself, or that part of the story arc has been accomplished. I have some chapters under 2k and others nearly 50k. A chapter is only as ever long as it needs to be, not one word over or less.

ask game ref.

[ermakeys]

Cocoon

Chapter 1: Welcome to Edar

Warnings: War, Trauma, PTSD, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence

AO3

Mando’a:

Vode - Siblings

Osik - Shit

A cocoon is meant to protect. To envelope the occupant inside in soft silk and shield it from the outside world.

Naire Tadir has chosen to cocoon herself after being transferred to the 424th Battalion. A battalion that is fighting to secure her home sector in the Edari Veil. A reassignment she didn't ask for or want in a sector she doesn't want to be in. She has been tasked with solving a murder on her home planet and Naire has to do her best to keep her own secrets hidden while uncovering those around her.

No matter how painful it is.

Reassignment Orders.

The words glared up at Naire from her datapad, taunting her as she just stared at them numbly. They taunted her as the pad glowed in the dim light of the passenger area of the transport. The same words kept her from resting as the soldiers around her sprawled in their seats, catching as much shuteye as they could.

They had learned the battlefield allowed for very little peace and quiet or the chance to rest in relative safety. The hum of the transport ship now was a soft lullaby in comparison. That same hum was a scream in her ears as the hyperdrive took her further and further from what she had considered her home, her family.

“So, where are you coming from?”

The cheery voice from above made Naire flinch and she scrambled to hold on to her pad as the same voice let out a quiet laugh. She looked up wide-eyed at the soldier standing next to her seat with a grin and blinked a few times before she could form words, “Excuse me?”

Mirth twinkled in his brown eyes as the soldier in bright white armor gestured towards her datapad.

“I saw the headline of your orders. Where are you being reassigned from?” he asked and Naire felt her fingertips try to dig into the hard plastic of the datapad. She glanced down at the words that had caused her world to spin out of control before turning the pad off entirely. No need to have the orders continue to mock her.

“Seventh Sky Corps. I served on the Venator Negotiator,” she answered quietly and winced as the soldier repeated the name of the ship loudly. A few of the other soldiers stirred nearby and the man beside her ducked his head sheepishly when they both spotted a few glares sent his way. A few grumbled, but quiet settled again quickly as the soldier took the free seat next to her with gleaming eyes.

“That’s the ship the 212th Attack Battalion uses!” he whispered and she smiled at the admiration on his unmarked face. Naire slipped her pad into her bag at her feet and tilted her head to continue listening. “I didn’t even know it was possible to switch between corps or even sector armies. I’m amazed you’d leave the 7th at all. I’ve heard many stories about my vode there.”

Naire’s fingertips lingered on the pad in her bag for a moment as she let his words make the ache in her chest sting sharply. Like an open wound where someone had poured a generous amount of salt. By the bucket.

“It happens. Not often, but reassignments between corps and armies do happen when they are necessary,” she said and sat up to lean back in her seat with a shrug. “And I didn’t have much say in the matter. Orders are orders.”

“Think I’d have a chance to get reassigned to the 212th?”

Naire laughed softly when he wiggled his eyebrows at her and she shook her head at his antics.

“Give your squad a chance and get some experience under your belt,” she murmured and then tapped a finger to his white shoulder pad. “Last I’d heard the 212th only rarely accepted troopers fresh off Kamino.”

His brows rose at her words and he placed a hand over his chest, the very picture of mock-offense, “Excuse you, I might just like my armor white? Why do you think I’m a shiny off Kamino?”

She smiled, drumming her fingers across her knee as she considered him.

“It doesn’t take much to make that guess. Your white armor and unmarked face alone would be a good hint, but I also know this transport made a rendezvous with a transport from Kamino to take all of you soldiers to Edar,” Naire sighed with a wave of her hand when he mockingly, but quietly, began to applaud me. “I wouldn’t be a very good intelligence officer if I couldn’t gather that much.”

The trooper whistled quietly.

“Intelligence officer, eh? What rank?”

It was a fair question. Naire knew she’d been sloppy with her headscarf and part of it was covering her rank designations. New rank designations that felt like they burned into her chest.

Unearned. Undeserving. A way to get her out, out, out.

Naire’s cheeks heated with shame and she hoped the soldier would misinterpret her guilty look as one of embarrassment.

“Lieutenant.”

The trooper straightened in his seat and whipped out a quick salute. Naire quickly raised her hands in a panic to stop him, but he said, “Apologies, lieutenant, that I did not recognize your rank sooner.”

“Shi, shu, sh, no!” Naire hissed, waving her hands, desperate for him to stop. “Please, don’t. I just got promoted and this really doesn’t feel real and I really, really wish they hadn’t. I can’t-.”

She paused when she noticed the way his mouth flattened and the corners of his lips trembled. Naire dropped her hands into her lap with an exasperated sigh and her companion slapped a hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing too loudly while his brothers rested. She fiddled with her head covering to have it properly arranged while the soldier wheezed, composing himself again. Finally, he held out a hand with a grin.

"I'm CT-4251, but my brothers call me Solus."

"Naire Tadir," she replied, extending her own hand. She blinked when he reached out and grasped her entire lower arm in a firm grip. It always felt strange to have her arm held like that in a greeting. “Your brothers of the 7th Sky Corps called me Spoof though.”

His grin widened into a full smile as he quirked a brow at her.

“Spoof?”

Naire shrugged and pulled her arm from his grasp.

“I’m good at gaining intelligence through the holonet,” she said and then nodded back at him. “‘Solus’ though. That’s Mando’a for ‘one’ or ‘united’. Why that name?”

Solus hummed and reached for his rifle from where it leaned against his seat. He settled it across his lap and the extended barrel and silencer brushed her own knee. Naire leaned closer when she spotted a handful of words painted on the side.

“‘One shot, one kill’,” Solus read aloud, a finger tracing across the words. “I’m an excellent sniper which is what my new squad requested. My commander during training even admitted I was a half decent shot which is huge praise from him.”

Solus chuckled, shaking his head at a memory.

“Ruined his whole day and made us pay for it by having us run through the worst scenarios he could think of. Hated giving compliments.”

Naire squinted at him and asked, “That wouldn’t be Commander Alpha-17, would it?”

“The same! You know about Commander-,” Solus stopped himself when there was an annoyed hiss a few seats away. He ducked his head with a grin and then rolled his eyes. “Actually, never mind, silly question. Of course you’d know about him as an intelligence officer.”

Naire’s chest ached.

Her work wasn’t how she knew about Alpha-17. She’d heard enough stories about the commander that she felt she would recognize him instantly among a group of fellow clones. Remembering those that had told her those stories though… Made her ache.

“Attention.”

Naire flinched when the lights flickered to life in the passenger area and the captain’s voice echoed through the hold. The ship lurched slightly as it dropped out of hyperspace, jerking awake the last few sleeping. The dozing clones groaned and grumbled at the sudden change in light while Solus and Naire shielded their eyes to adjust.

“We will arrive on Edar in the capital Pleah in five minutes. Those joining the 42nd will disembark here.”

Solus straightened and quickly strapped himself in when the ship shuddered a little. The other clones were stirring to life and settling in their seats. They glanced at each other, rest from before abandoned and now brimming with excitement. The ship rumbled as it shook from turbulence and Solus glanced at Naire with a wry grin.

“I suppose you’ve flown a lot since you’re barely reacting to us entering the atmosphere?”

Naire grimaced and folded my hands in my lap.

“I was recruited into the GAR a year ago, so I’ve seen my fair share of flight,” she admitted as the shuddering eased a little. “However, while I have been serving on a starship, I didn’t go planetside very much.”

Solus chuckled and nudged Naire with an elbow.

“Still more than any shiny on this transport.”

The transport shuddered and Naire leaned back in her seat. A few of the soldiers tensed and held on to their straps, uneasy. Their tension bled out of them when the ship settled and the engine turned down to a low hum. A clone lieutenant with a shoulder pad stood up at the front and called, “Alright, everyone bound for the 42nd on your feet!”

Solus along with about four squads worth of clones jumped from their seats, gathering their gear and rushing forward to line up. Except Solus waited next to Naire as she unstrapped. She picked up her bag and slipped it across her shoulders with a smile his way, “Bound for the 42nd as well?”

He grinned as they joined the back of the waiting troopers before he put his white helmet on.

“424th. You?”

Naire’s smile widened in delight as she pulled her officer’s cap from her bag and pressed it firmly onto her head.

“424th as well. Good to know one trooper on the ground already.”

Solus raised a fist with a static laugh through his vocoder and Naire bumped hers against his as the ramp was lowered. She smiled at the sound of the wind whistling outside and the way some troopers tried to peer ahead at what lay outside. The clone lieutenant barked a marching order and they descended the ramp and out into the landing area. A few troopers stumbled at the sudden onslaught of harsh wind once they reached the outside. Even Solus swayed for a moment and mumbled, “Osik, how strong are the winds here?”

Naire leaned into the wind, finding her footing and she smiled. It had been years since she’d been on Edar and yet she found her current again so quickly. It really was something you never forgot.

“Wind speeds on a regular day range between fifty to sixty kph,” she answered just loud enough to be heard over the whistling of the wind as it whipped between the nearby buildings, powerlines and antennae. She glanced around as Solus made a choked sound of disbelief.

The republic base made Naire’s brows rise in surprise. It was more exposed to the elements than she had expected. Edari structures were hidden in protected valleys or tunneled straight into solid stone.

The capital Pleah was an example of both.

A lush green valley with structures nestled between the greenery and winding paths. The greenery petered out the higher up the valley it reached and the structures were carved out of the solid valley wall. Tall towers of stone carved out of the valley wall and everywhere streamers of bright cloth whipping in the wind.

It filled Naire with nostalgia and longing.

The republic base however was seated on a plateau at the top of the valley, fully exposed to the wind. A few streamers fluttered above the base, but those were the only Edari influence Naire could spot from where she stood.

A base that housed the 42nd Brigade.

The troopers and Naire came to a stop a few meters from the ramp in front of four clones in their full armor. Their armor stood in stark contrast to that of the clones fresh from Kamino. Black was the dominant color with splashes of dark blue and white. A commander stood flanked by two captains and a lieutenant. The commander nodded at the Kaminoan clone lieutenant and called, “Welcome to Edar, vode.”

A few of the troopers glanced at each other at the raspy voice that came from the vocoder. It came out strained and rough and Naire struggled to hear it over the wind. Everyone stiffened to attention when the commander continued, “I am Clone Battalion Commander Bes’bev of the 424th Battalion and here to welcome you in the place of Senior Commander Chaabar. Edar might be a Republic world, but it is not without its struggles. We need your fighting spirit and together we can help these people.”

Naire tensed at his words. She’d heard some news about Edar in the last year since the Separatists tried to cede from the Republic. Nothing too bad, but maybe there had been a recent development? Commander Bes’bev gestured towards the lieutenant and two captains next to him, pointing each one out as he gave his next orders, “Those of you joining the 422nd follow Lieutenant Maroon. Bound for the 423rd, you follow Captain Lem. Assigned to the 424th, follow Captain Chess.”

He paused for a moment and seemed to search the troopers gathered before him. Naire stiffened when the visor of his helmet settled on her in the back.

“Lieutenant Tadir will join me for her orders.”

Naire tried not to physically recoil at her new title. She hated it. She nearly missed when Commander Bes’bev dismissed the troopers and Solus tapped her forearm. The other troopers were hurrying to join their officer, but Solus waved and teased, “Catch you later, Lieutenant Spoof.”

Some of the tension drained from Naire’s shoulders and Solus dashed after his clone brothers to join Captain Chess. A captain that was giving orders while he stood next to Commander Bes’bev. A commander that was watching and waiting for her.

Naire walked towards them and tried to take a moment to study their armor. She’d have to learn to recognize them quickly. Captain Chess had a pattern of black and white squares on his kama while parts of his armor alternated between black and white. As if someone had taken a mirror down his middle and inverted the colors. Commander Bes’bev was all smooth lines and curves. Nearly entirely black with flashes of rounded white curves. Then Naire saw what looked like sharp white teeth painted along the jaws of his helmet. Both soldiers had small pieces of dark blue material peeking through.

And both of their visors were fixated slightly above her until she got close.

“Lieutenant Tadir,” Commander Bes’bev greeted her once she was close enough. Naire smiled nervously as he extended his hand towards her and she held her own out, expecting another handshake like she had with Solus. To her delight he brushed his fingers against the inside of her palm in the Edari equivalent of a handshake. “It feels odd to welcome a native of the Edari system back to their own homeworld.”

Any delight Naire had been feeling until then evaporated. She tried to keep up her smile though.

“I appreciate the sentiment anyway, commander,” she answered and then fiddled with the strap of her bag with one hand. “Thank you for having me here.”

Commander Bes’bev nodded and then whistled. Naire flinched at the sound coming from his vocoder, but Captain Chess had stopped giving orders and stepped closer to stand beside Commander Bes’bev. The latter placed a hand on the former’s shoulder and declared, “This is Captain Chess. He’s in charge of the Ne’tra Gi Company and the squadron you will be attached to. Anything you need done, you can approach him.”

“A pleasure to have you, Lieutenant Tadir,” Captain Chess greeted Naire with a respectful nod and he extended his hand as well. Naire repeated the Edari handshake and smiled nervously. She needed them to stop using that rank and name.

“The pleasure is mine, captain,” she said and glanced between the two. Her fingers tightened on the strap of her bag as she tried to swallow her nerves. “And, ah, well, I don’t really use my family name much. My friends in the 7th called me Spoof and I have grown fond of the name. If it isn’t too much trouble, ah, would it be possible to…?”

The two looked at each other as Naire’s sentence petered out. She wished she could see their faces. She wouldn’t be such an anxious mess if she could get a better feel for them. Her shoulders slumped in relief when Chess turned back to her with clear amusement in his voice, “Of course. I’ll make sure the vode know to call you by your chosen name.”

The smile Naire shot him was probably the first sincere one since she’d landed here. Chess glanced back at the waiting troopers and drawled, “I’d better get these shinies settled and broken in.”

Commander Bes’bev gave him a nod and Chess walked back to the troopers that had been watching and trying to listen in. The commander waved at Naire to follow and they walked towards what she assumed was the command center while he said, “We are glad to have you here. Chess and his squad have been covering your predecessor's work until we could get a new intelligence officer.”

Aaah work. That she could handle. They paused at the door of the command center and Commander Bes’bev entered his codes so they could enter. He pulled a small datachip from a pouch once they’d passed the doors and held it out to Naire. She blinked as she took it, staring at a sharp metal pipe attached to his belt next to the pouch. What-?

“This contains your code for the base and the layout of the base which you can upload to your datapad,” Commander Bes’bev explained once she’d slipped the datachip into her breast pocket. The sterile gray hall echoed with our footsteps and Naire winced a little when she could still hear the wind outside. Definitely not constructed by Edari. “The command center is next to the barracks for the nat-borns, but I’ll have someone take you on a tour later this evening.”

Then they stepped into the actual command center.

The circular room had a large console in the middle that currently displayed a map of the planet with several locations marked. People sat before their own smaller consoles around the room on the ground floor. The large, center console was on an elevated platform and was being surveyed by two people. A clone commander in armor that was nearly entirely black, helmet tucked under one arm and an elderly lasat in off-white robes, a lightsaber attached to their belt.

A Jedi?

Naire was so busy looking around she nearly missed it when Commander Bes’bev removed his helmet with a quiet sigh. He brushed back some of the curls that had come loose from his ponytail and tucked his helmet under his arm like the commander above before glancing at Naire. He nodded up towards the commander and lasat and in a hoarse voice drawled, “Let’s introduce you to Commander Chaabar and General Su.”

A pang of anxiety swept through her, but Naire took a deep breath and nodded. Commander Bes’bev walked towards the center console and her hand clenched around the strap of her bag. She could do this. She’d done it before, she could do it again.

Commander Bes’bev paused at the bottom of the steps and glancing back at Naire, mumbled, “The general uses they/them pronouns.”

Naire nodded stiffly and then they ascended the stairs. The general was the first to notice them and their amber eyes lit up at the sight with delight. They smiled warmly as Commander Bes’bev and Naire climbed the few steps up and they exclaimed, “Bes’bev, you are a wonderful sight for these old eyes of mine! Who have you brought me today?”

Naire could have sworn Commander Bes’bev’s lips twitched into the shape of a smile for a heartbeat. Next thing she knew, he’d saluted the lasat and gestured towards her, “General, the intelligence officer you requested has arrived.”

The general turned their brilliant smile onto Naire and their expression softened as if they could feel her nerves. They extended a hand and crooned, “Welcome to our base, lieutenant. I am Sulavo Kad, please call me Su.”

Naire brushed her fingers along their four fingered palm with a tight smile.

“Thank you, Master Su. My name is Naire Tadir, but I would prefer the name Spoof,” Naire returned and their pointed ears twitched with open curiosity. She withdrew her hand again and asked, “I did not realize the situation on Edar had deteriorated so far that the Jedi Council had gotten involved.”

Master Su sighed heavily and waved a hand at the projection of Edar in front of them.

“Seperatist sympathizers have grown more vocal and violent in the last months. Especially here in the capital,” they explained and Naire frowned in concern. Vocal she could see. Even understand. But violent? The Edari? Master Su waved at the second commander though, interrupting her thoughts. The commander had a frown almost permanently etched into his face as Master Su said, “However, I should introduce our dear commander to you. This is Clone Senior Commander Chaabar of the 42nd Battalion.”

“Spoof, was it?” Commander Chaabar asked in a low growl as he extended his hand towards her. Naire tried not to flinch at how much deeper his voice sounded and just nodded as she returned the handshake. He scoffed lightly and narrowed his brown eyes at her. “Think I’ve heard about you from the 212th Battalion and 501st Company. Seemed too fond of you to just give you up so easily.”

The air was sucked out of her lungs. Naire was dimly aware of Master Su suddenly straightening to their full towering height and glancing between Naire and Commander Chaabar as she struggled to remain composed. Naire took a deep breath and murmured, “Orders are orders.”

There. No tremble. No break. No tears. Only the too perceptive eyes of a Jedi master on her. Eyes that wandered over her before flicking between the two commanders with an easy smile.

“I will escort the lieutenant the rest of the way, Bes’bev,” they declared and held out an arm out to Naire. She lightly placed her hand on their arm and Master Su smiled. “Bes’bev, you discussed codes and will give her a tour later?”

“Yes, General Su.”

“Excellent. Then carry on.”

Naire managed a quick nod and smile for the two clones before Master Su escorted her down the steps from the elevated platform. Once the two of them had turned away from the main console, she became aware of eyes on them. The people in the room were trying to be subtle, but the way they quickly turned back to their own consoles betrayed where their focus had been. She lowered her own gaze to avoid them until they’d reached a new hallway. Master Su pointed out the door to their office and a few more doors further down Naire’s own office.

Her own office. Naire felt a heavy weight settle in her stomach. Back in the 7th Corps she’d never had her own office. She didn’t have the rank for it. Now she was the highest ranked intelligence officer on the planet. That warranted her own office and she hated the responsibility that came with it.

“I didn’t realize things had become so dire on Edar that the Jedi Council would involve itself,” she repeated softly as they continued down the hallway. Master Su stopped walking, forcing Naire to stop as well and she looked up at them. They frowned, staring ahead with a distant look in their eyes.

“I will be honest with you,” they stated in a hushed voice and slowly turned their gaze onto Naire. “The Separatists on Edar have grown bold. There are droids on Edar, holding small areas. They sent a bomb to this base that killed many of our soldiers here and have targeted our patrols and those that support the Republic. The people of Edar are withdrawn, afraid to draw the ire of the Seperatist sympathizers.”

Naire felt the blood drain from her face. A bombing? Why hadn’t she heard anything about that? She shook her head as Master Su slowly continued to walk. She could look into it more closely later and she had more pressing questions before that, “I know the Edari are more secretive and withdrawn than other people, but I thought Lord Coldo had invited the GAR to come to Edar. I would have thought he would encourage the people to cooperate with you?”

Master Su chuckled, patting Naire’s hand resting on their forearm.

“Lord Coldo did invite us, yes,” they answered and then sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, his father Monarch Melaron has spoken against siding with either the Republic or the Separatists. Despite stepping back from most of his roles as Monarch of Edar, Monarch Melaron is still loved by the Edari and so his opinion holds sway over many.”

Naire couldn’t help the groan of disappointment. Of course, Monarch Melaron would speak against taking a side.

“He’s always been a traditionalist, advocating that the Edari system remain neutral and withdrawn from the rest of the galaxy.”

“I hear his son is of a different opinion which is why we have had as much support as we do,” Master Su said with a smile and Naire couldn’t help but smile in return, pride filling her. Lord Coldo had always advocated against his father’s tendency for isolation. “Still, it made sense to request an Edari intelligence officer if there was one available.”

Available. Any pride Naire had felt turned to ice at the word. She hadn’t been. She’d been wrapped up in a few projects that she had hastily transferred to her colleagues on the Venator Negotiator. Master Su hummed as if they could sense her turmoil through Naire’s hand resting on their forearm. They probably could through the force.

At this point they’d stepped out of the command center and stood before one of the smaller buildings of the base. Master Su entered their code and escorted Naire inside. They stopped in front of one of the doors and declared, “This is your room on the base. It was Lieutenant Wor Ospilt’s before you.”

The door slid open with a quiet hiss with a press from Master Su and they gestured for Naire to step inside. It was sparse with a bunk, desk and a door to a private fresher. She set her bag on the bunk and glanced at the desk that had a stack of datapads on it.

“Lieutenant Ospilt’s projects,” Master Su explained and Naire picked up the one at the top. Only to be met with a locked screen. ��The datachip from Bes’bev should unlock the datapads for you.”

Naire nodded and set the pad down again as Master Su clasped their hands behind their back with a smile.

“I will let you settle in. You have traveled far to come here. Besides, you will have a tour of the facilities later from one of Bes’bev’s men,” they added and began to step back through the open door. They paused when Naire raised a hand quickly.

“What happened to my predecessor? Lieutenant Ospilt? It wasn’t mentioned in my orders.”

Just from what they’d said so far, Naire had an inkling, but… She felt my gut clench when Master Su grimaced.

“The Separatist Sympathizers killed him.”

The door slid shut as Master Su stepped away. Naire’s last chance at escape closing with it.

[nico-meridius]

Fic: Our General

And we’re at the end of @commandercodyweek - I actually was able to finish the whole week!  Though I have a few bunnies to deal with!!  *plots for @codywanweek* 

Day 7: Missing Perspectives

A Cody-centric arc that could have fit into tcw (2008)

Post-Rako Hardeen; post-Umbara; post-Citadel

Cody leading the 212th Attack Battalion/the 7th Sky Corps while Obi-Wan is away on Jedi business

A day in the life of Marshal Commander Cody

Post-battle

Force-related conflicts (Jedi or Sith)

Logically he understood.

He understood mission parameters, subterfuge, and the need for secrecy.  

But logic and emotions were two different things.   So he understood perfectly why the Council had done what they did, no one could know about the mission to keep the General safe.  It didn't change the devastation he felt, when he had heard the news.

The 212th had mourned, added the General's name to their remembrances.  He holed himself in his room, drank himself stupid with some bad moonshine that likely could strip the engines clean.  All he could feel was the regret that he never told him the truth.  He had fallen in love with Obi-Wan almost the moment he saw him.  It had been his smile that captivated him at first, but it was love and devotion to the men that sealed the deal.

Had made a promise to himself that he would tell him once the war was over, and then he lost him.

He hadn't come close to dealing with his grief, but was starting to find comfort from his vode, who understood - seemed he hadn't been that good at hiding his feelings.

Then the General was back.

It was a mission, to save the chancellor.

Cody heard the words from General Windu, and his own apology for deceiving the men as it was a high priority directly from the Chancellor's office, but his mind was only on a loop - 'he's alive'.

When he finally laid eyes on him, he actually questioned about the alive part.  Obi-Wan looked worse than months on a hard campaign.  And don't get him started on the short hair and clean shaven.  His General looked like a Commander, and extremely vulnerable.

He heard a few of them whimper slightly at the sight, he could feel the vode's pleasure at seeing him, yet disbelief they sent their General back looking like he had risen from the dead.  Then the General did something none of them expected.

After they had their new orders, heading to a campaign in the Mid-Rim.  They had been in hyperspace for the day, when the General entered the mess hall.  Cody watched as he settled himself before he addressed the men, and by his stance he was preparing himself for rejection.

"Ni ceta.  Ner verde.  Ni ceta."  He bowed his head, and in the shock of the whole 212th, went to his knees, repeating he was sorry.  

They all looked at Cody, demanding he do something.  

His General didn't belong on his knees, not for something he had no control over.  Yes, they all were hurt, devastated at the loss, but they had their miracle, he was back with them.  Which meant, he was theirs now.

Cody made his way over to ner Jetii, pulled him back onto his feet.  He cupped his cheek, wiping away the tears.  "If you could've told us would you have?"

"Yes.  I didn't want to do this.  Trust is everything.  I hurt Anakin, he's not even speaking to me, despite the fact I did it to save the Chancellor."  Obi-Wan leaned into the touch. "I can't express enough how sorry I am for hurting you, ner a'verde."

"Obi-Wan."  There was a flash in the General's eyes.  "There is nothing for you to apologize for, you had to do your duty, as we do.  The fact you stood before us, asking for our forgiveness, shows how much you care for us."

"You and the men are my one source of comfort these days."

"Should've realized no way a single shot would've taken you down."  He gave his General a grin, chuckling at the blush that was more visible without the beard.  "We ask you two things?  Grow the beard back…"

"Yes!"  Gearshift added into the conversations

"Please for the love of the Force.  We can't have a baby General."  Boil called out, smiling brightly.  

Obi-Wan laughed slightly.  "And the other?"

"I don't care how, but if you ever get called to do something like that again.  At least get word to me, I'll protect our men."  Cody then took the one chance he thought he missed, he leaned down and gently kissed the lush lips.  It's different than he thought, always imagining what it would feel like with the beard, and is hoping in time he'll get to experience it.

Obi-Wan moaned into the kiss and pulled Cody closer.  They both ignored the hollering from the men, enjoying the moment.  "No what?"  Obi-Wan asked softly.

"We have dinner with the vode, then I think we need to talk."  Cody kissed him one more time, then pulled him towards the men, letting them have time with their General.   He watched as they teased, assured, and soaked in Obi-Wan's presence.

He may not have liked what happened, but they had their general, and he had his cyare.

[generallynerdy]

And when I am called to quit this life, my feet will not spurn the sod (Cody X Fay)

Summary: Cody is dying. He can feel it. For a second, when a gorgeous, terrifying woman stands above him, he thinks that he’s hallucinating in his final moments. But then, she’s healing him. Fay is too late to save any of his siblings, but she’ll do her best to save this one commander. In the process, she finds something made of darkness in the man’s head, shrieking at her touch. Could this be a lead on the Sith Lord she’s chasing?

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Major Character Injury, Burns, Fake Character Death, Fix-It of Sorts, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Near Death Experiences, Mentions of Rako Hardeen Arc, Vomiting Word Count: 2,115

Author’s Note: this is the first of many star wars one-shots that won’t leave my brain,,,please don’t convince me to make any of them into a series because I’m a weak bitch and I probably will. I didn’t know Fay existed until I read a few fics with her and now I’m in love whoops. Title is from The Optimist, a poem by J. W. Hammond. WOW this is a rarepair, I actually think it doesn’t have any other fics on AO3? Wow. What have I done.

Read the rest of the series on AO3

*

Cody is dying.

He can feel it as easily as hunger or exhaustion, despite the ringing in his head.

The explosion was massive and he was at the forefront of it. No, wait, that's not right. He was the furthest from it. Why was he far away? The memory is fuzzy.

He gasps, pained, wheezing, as he tries to move, tries to speak. Fire crackles around him, smoke and dust filling the air. His lungs burn with it and he's certain there has to be something impaling him because it hurts more than just a bruised lung. Why does he know what that feels like?

The men. He was leading the men away when the explosion happened. There were mines in the ground, he didn't realise-- oh Ka'ra, how many are dead? How many--?

He tries to sit up again and stops, falling back when he hears screaming. It takes him a long moment to realise that it's his voice, his screams.

"Peace."

Cody thinks he's hallucinating it, maybe imaging the voice of an angel in his final moments. *He must be, he decides when a woman appears above him, her dirty blonde-- almost brown, really-- hair falling over her shoulder to reveal a pair of slightly pointed ears. Her eyes are bright despite the frown on her face, almost eerily so.

Cody doesn't know why he's imagining some sort of Sephi woman come to take him away. He generally finds the men of the species more appealing.

"Keep breathing, Commander," she tells him, her voice light and airy, but determined in a familiar way. "You'll be able to do it without it hurting soon."

Cody coughs a little, trying to ignore the taste of blood in his mouth and the fact that it's dripping down the side of his face, too. He can barely get in any air, but he tries to speak regardless. She can't be his imagination. No, she would've called him Kote, not by his title.

"Who--?" he tries to say.

"Shh, keep your strength," she murmurs.

He can't see what she's doing, but with a jolt of movement, the pain in his chest becomes stronger and he screams again, almost against his will. The thing that was impaling him is gone-- she removed it.

Panic rises in him. He’s going to bleed out. He’s going to die right now, right here, in this mysterious woman’s arms.

“Breathe,” she warns again, firmly this time.

Cody wants to laugh, wants to tell her she sounds like General Kenobi with that heartbreaking last-minute, death-bed hope. He usually has nothing to hold onto, nothing but the people around him and he holds them fiercely. If this were him, he would refuse to accept that Cody is slipping away, not until his last breath.

What he fails to realise is that this woman isn’t denying his death because she doesn’t want it to happen; she’s denying it because she can and will prevent it.

He flinches as best he can when he feels her hands peel apart his armour. It’s burned into his blacks and when it pulls off his skin, he wants to scream again but makes a weak, wounded noise instead. Then, her hands on his bare chest, fingers pressed against his wounds.

“Buy me a-- a drink first,” he wheezes out, chest heaving.

Her laugh is a song, which is a stupid, cheesy thought that sounds like something out of Rex’s holofilms. Cody almost wants to bleed out just for thinking it.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re exactly like your Progenitor?” she asks dryly.

He snorts. “He was the rough draft. I--”

The gasp leaves his throat without his permission, a flaring heat stretching out from where her fingers meet his chest. It surrounds his entire body, cradling him in a gentle heat and almost numbing his pain.

When it reaches his head, however, a stab of pain goes through his skull. He writhes with the wave of intense pain, vision going fuzzy with tears.

“Stop, stop, stop--” he begs, sobbing.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes out, moving to rest her hand on his face. “It’s not me.”

Her fingers are cold against the heat she’s brought on, ice-cold as they dance across his skull, seeking out the source of his pain. They stop on a spot on the right side and press firmly there. When Cody gasps again, she stops as quickly as she started and the heat recedes from that place in an instant.

“Let any Sith in your head lately?” she asks.

He shakes his head viciously. “No, no-- why?”

“We’ll worry about that later. Take a deep breath.”

Attempting not to focus on that worrying tone, Cody does as she says, inhaling as deeply as he can, though it hurts. The moment he gets a good breath in, the warmth intensifies.

His eyes widen, terrified, but then it’s all gone; the warmth, the pain, the dizziness, the fuzzy vision-- everything. He flings himself up from the ground, hand flying up to his head. His fingers still come away bloody, but he can tell the wound is gone.

“How did you--?” he starts to ask her. He sees her robes and stops immediately. “I didn’t know Jedi could do that.”

She smiles. “Most can’t, I admit. It’s taken me a long time to learn. Anything still hurt?”

He pauses, assessing, before finally shaking his head. “Thank you. Did-- did anyone else--?” He hesitates to ask.

Watching her face fall is a punch to the gut. “No. I’m sorry, Commander, but you were the only one still breathing when I arrived.”

Cody shuts his eyes tightly, willing away the tears that threaten to break again.

So many siblings. So many gone, all but him. It always seems to end this way, he thinks bitterly.

“Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum,” he whispers.

He jumps when the woman places her hand on his, eyes opening. “Commander, I know you’re grieving and recuperating, but the Separatists will be all over this field soon. I have a request to make of you.”

Cody frowns. “General?”

“Ah, just Master,” she corrects, her smile a little sad-- something Cody has noticed with many Jedi when he calls them that. “Master Fay.”

“Marshal Commander Cody, of the 7th Sky Corps and the 212th Attack Battalion.”

Her smile widens. “Obi-Wan Kenobi. He’s lucky to have you.”

He glances at the ground, but only for a fraction of a second. “Thank you, sir, but I think it’s the other way around.” He pauses. “You said something about a request?”

“What I felt in your head...it was pure darkness,” Fay mutters.

She reaches forward again, the tips of her fingers on the very spot she’s speaking about. Cody finds himself leaning into the touch, reminded of the sharp difference between her skin and the heat that had come over him. He stops when she smiles a little at the movement, somewhat sheepish.

“Obi-Wan thinks I’m dead,” she says abruptly.

Cody blinks a few times. “Pardon?”

Fay sighs. “Myself and three other Masters faked our deaths so we could hunt the Sith Lord over Dooku. I think that they might have to do with whatever is in your head; it has the same darkness.”

He knows what she’s asking of him before she even finishes.

“You want me to come with you. If I disappear, they’ll assume I died in the explosion,” he works out.

Again, the smile that comes over her expression is sad. He’s clever, Fay thinks, like many of his siblings, but it doesn’t make her feel any better about the offer. She would never wish this fate on anyone, no matter the blood on their hands.

“I don’t want to take you from your family,” she admits, “but you may hold the key to finding the Sith Lord in your head, Commander.”

“I--” he pauses. “General Kenobi faked his death once. It felt-- It felt like the galaxy was ending. When he came back, I was...pissed. Couldn’t look at him for weeks. If I do the same thing, I don’t know if they’d forgive me.”

His thoughts drift to Rex. Rex would kick his ass for even thinking of pulling a Rako Hardeen.

And what about the other commanders? After Ponds...well, Cody doesn’t think they’d be able to lose anyone else.

But they could end the war. This is different from just catching a handful of bounty hunters trying to kill the Chancellor, this is saving the galaxy. What kind of soldier is Cody if he passes this up?

But what kind of soldier is he if he abandons his men?

(Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders.)

It’s not like he has much of a choice in this matter, though. He can’t exactly explain his miraculous survival of the explosion or the fact that he’s completely uninjured. What would he tell General Kenobi? That a long-dead Master healed him?

And how could he live knowing there was something dark in his head? Not ever finding out what it was?

“I’ll come with you,” he declares finally. “I need to know what this is. If it helps end the war, I have to.”

Master Fay grimaces. “You don’t have to do anything, Commander, if you don’t want--”

“I want to. I want to save my vode, sir. I can’t let this --” he gestures to the chaos around them, “--happen to any more of them.”

Fay lets out a deep breath. Cody is something. He and Obi-Wan must make quite a pair.

“Alright,” she says. “You’ll have to leave the armour; it stands out too much.”

He nods and takes her offered hand, standing with her. “I want to leave something for my brother, Rex. He won’t say a word, I trust him.”

“And I trust you, Commander,” she says with a smile. “I’ll contact the other Masters and give you a moment.”

“Sure, sir.” After a second, he clears his throat. “And, uh, Cody is fine.”

Fay hums. “Cody? You don’t have to call me sir. Just Fay. Or Master, if it physically hurts you to keep from using titles.”

Cody can’t help but laugh. “Thank you, Master. I’m glad we understand each other.”

*

Rex feels sick standing over the explosion site.

“Rexster? Rex?”

He snaps back into attention, finding a worried Ahsoka squinting at him. “Sir?” he asks, hoping it doesn’t come out as broken as he is.

Her grimace tells him that it does.

“We don’t know that he’s down there, Rex,” she says softly.

Rex swallows roughly. “Yeah.”

He’s trying to keep the hope, but it starts to fade with every step they take and every body they find. Not a single one of them made it out alive. He knows, logically, that Cody would have been at the front of the squad and the farthest from the explosion, but the damage is extensive.

“Sirs! Over here!” Jesse calls.

The sight of Cody’s armour, splattered with blood and reeking of burnt flesh, makes Rex gag. He has to rip off his helmet and duck away from the Generals, Ahsoka, and Jesse, retching.

When he returns, General Kenobi is kneeling beside the pile of displaced plastoid, grief etched on his face. He picks up a vambrace with shaking hands and lets out a weak breath. Ahsoka, meanwhile, sobs, letting General Skywalker pull her into his side.

Rex steels himself and moves toward them again, waving Jesse off when he gives him a concerned look. He kneels beside General Kenobi, who puts a hand on his shoulder.

He picks up Cody’s helmet, numb.

He can’t even find it in him to cry.

The Generals give him a long time there to think, to grieve. Jesse stays by his side, waiting and watching his six.

"Ni partayli, gar darasuum,” Rex says, finishing the remembrance. He holds Cody’s helmet in his hands, pressing his forehead against it in a Keldabe kiss. Despite himself, he chokes out; “Ni partayli, vod.”

He opens his eyes, meaning to pull the helmet away, and stops abruptly.

There’s something carved on the bottom of Cody’s visor, in Mando’a. Rex frowns. That’s a new addition, he’s pretty certain, at least since the last time he saw his brother.

It takes everything Rex has in him not to sob with relief when he translates it.

Cody is a stupid bastard and he loves his stupid bastard brother. He’s going to kill him.

Rako.

Fucking Rako.

“Wherever you are, I hope you know I’m gonna kick your ass when you get back,” Rex whispers to the helmet as if Cody is there with him. “And all the commanders are gonna help me.”

*

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

Masterlist

[ltfad]

do you know how hard it is for someone like me (editor), a stickler for continuity, facts, and numbers, to deal with tcw’s horrible handling of the army units and the chain of command

And this really becomes a problem when you’re writing fanfic that’s obsessively trying to make sense of it all. We’re already going to have to go back and edit certain references and lines in order to fix what I am ATTEMPTING to put into order.

And so much of this could have been fixed if Rex was a commander but nooooo.

According to wookieepedia 

the order of units and command goes (those in parentheses finding their placement via legends tab):

corps - marshal commander (legion - senior commander (senior commander has no ref yet in canon)) regiment - commander (battalion - major (major also has no ref yet in canon)) company - captain platoon - lieutenant squad - sergeant

and this just brings up SO MANY QUESTIONS?? 

first of all, Cody was recanonized as a marshal commander, and so is really the commander of the entire 7th sky corps, not just the 212th battalion (a corps contains 64 battalions if we go by legends placement of battalions). Like geez Cody. But we only ever see him command one single battalion lol.

Rex supposedly only commands Torrent Company, except when he doesn’t. He gives onscreen orders to Carnivore Battalion which is like... multiple ranks above him. And of course, we never see any clone commanding him even though there is supposed to be 1 marshal commander, 4 senior commanders (if we accept legends), 16 commanders, and 64 majors (if we accept legends) who directly outrank him in whatever corps torrent company belongs to. At the very least there is 1 marshal commander and 16 commanders even if we toss legends material entirely (though we can’t because legions and battalions are still canon units even if where they fit in and who commands them has no info). 

Like... I’m really starting to headcanon that Anakin only was trusted with one Company (Torrent Company) that gets expelled from the normal organization of the army. Though I also headcanon now that the 501st is in the 7th sky corps so Cody is Rex’s literal superior officer. But anyway if Rex is actually commanding the entire 501st Battalion (not legion I guess?? they arent the same thing so that’s confusing) he’s actually commanding 4 companies which seems reasonable, but he should be Major Rex then (guess I can see why they went with Captain for aesthetics sake lol)

Also canonly corps contain 36,864 troopers. Once again, wow Cody. And Bly who commands the 327th Star Corps. Realistically they’d only be conferring with the upper officers in the corps. Senior Commanders, Commanders, and maybe Majors. 

Honestly I prefer tossing battalions and legions as units because its a lot more manageable that way but that’s sort of impossible given that those are the only two designations the 501st was ever given. And the 212th is the 212th Attack Battalion. Unless we imagine battalion its being used interchangeably by everyone with regiment which contains 2,304 troopers. But I dunno how that would fly. 

And another thing... I know we did what we did in ltfad but

how the heck does Appo go from literally the lowest class of officer (sergeant, commanding 9 troopers) to Commander (2,304 troopers) or Senior Commander (9216 troopers) in the space of .. what... 1 year?? Did literally every other officer above him die. Seriously what is this. They should have made him at least a lieutenant in Umbara but even that is still pushing things. Thats why we could only come up with the assignment coming from someone (Tarkin) who doesnt care what clone is commander as long as he strictly follows orders. But does Appo even check out on Tarkin’s alliancometer since he joined the others in standing against Krell in the end.... or does Tarkin not even know the details. And why did he become a Commander if he’s only commanding one battalion, he should be a Major??

Really I should just stop trying to be consistent. If they don’t care why should I? >_>