#next chapter of TWP starting soon!

[1indigoisles]

Happy New Year!

The end has come! Time for the new year! (And the beginning of the TWP era!)

I discovered The Shadowhunter Chronicles this year, in June. A little shocking, I know. I fell in love with the books like nothing before, and this discovery was literally one of my golden eras. It was also this year that I started writing my novel, which is also an era that's not going to end any time soon. But my biggest breakthrough this year was joining Tumblr, where I got an expansion on everything, including fandoms. Apart from TSC, I'm in Shadow and Bone, The Folk of The Air, Good Omens (just started), Percy Jackson, and The Raven Cycle.

But this a people appreciation post, which means that I am, yet again, digressing.

@jeahreading - My best friend on Tumblr, knows all my deep dark secrets and would forgive me even if I lied to her. Jeah is who I go to after a rough day, who I flirt with on a daily basis, and who I'm going to join a group blog with. I love her for being the kind of friend that only exists in books, I love her for almost always liking my posts first, and I love her for reading my writing, even if it is sometimes crappy. I love you forever, angel.

@mayaheronthorn - My first friend here. She's just about as obsessed with KitTy as I am, if not more, and will always sit and read my TWP theories and headcanons, even though they come extremely spontaneously, and are mostly just rants. I think I wrote a TWP fic to her once through a random convo? - but that's besides the point. I hope we get to talk more next year, and you finally come around to posting your novel from time to time! Love you lots!

@damn-this-transgirl-hella-gay - The ultimate reader ever. You read everything on writing that I post and you VOICE-ACTED MY FIRST CHAPTER! Who does that?! You going for small writers like us really means more than I can say!

@tys-kitty - THE Shadowblogger ever. TWP posts are the highlights of my day, and you rock at it! Joy comes from pain shared, and also agony over TWP. Your posts, no matter how many times I say it, bring me more happiness than pain. Ich liebe dich mehrer als ich dich hasse.

@02babyy - Even though you're newer than I am, your posts are always so fun. I love you for making Kit your entire personality, since he's one of my favourite TSC characters ever (second only to Alec). The best thing about you is that you seem like you could be pretty popular, but aren't intimidating because of it. Keep glowing!

@margareturtle - You gave me hope in this world when you came up with the theory of Kit's gold wings. Your content is super fun, and you're hilarious as hell. You think out of the box and your headcanons are the best. Have a great 2024, Bananasplit!

Happy end of 2023, and looking forward to 2024 with all of you!

[thursdaysdove]

Me: (sitting down, watching a show)

Wheatley: (comes over on his rail right in front of the TV and grins at me) Hey, Author. You know what I think you should be doing right now?

Me: Watching my show. Move, please. (Scooting over to see around him)

Wheatley: (moves to block me again) Writing! More specifically, writing our story!

Me: But- But it's show time! (Moving again to see the TV)

Wheatley: (blocking me yet again) Right! You're absolutely right, it IS showtime - showtime for our story! So-

Me: Mooooooove!

Wheatley: - get -

Me: Damn it, you little shit, MOVE IT-

Wheatley: - to work!

Narrator: (comes in and turns off the TV)

Me: HEY! What gives?!

Narrator: I, for once, agree with Wheatley, Author. You should be writing.

Me: (frowning) I just want to watch my show!

Narrator: What show? Breaking Bad? You have already watched it about 80 times. Now, time to get to writing.

Me: (picks up the remote to turn the TV back on again)

Narrator: Oh for God's sake, you stubborn- (takes the remote and chucks it behind himself, where the sound of breaking glass can be heard, then comes over and grabs the back of my shirt and hauls me off the couch, dragging me into my office)

Me: Nooooo.....!

Wheatley: Ha! You sure showed her! (following behind, wiggling his handles in excitement) Yay! Story time!

[prongsisabadger]

TWP Chapter 28

Wolffe and I spoke casually as we made our way towards the bridge. Not a lot had happened since I’d been gone, the Pack had mostly been assigned extractions, rescue missions and patrols among other things. The clone commander didn’t show his feelings on the lack of battlefront action, but then again, I was still his superior and it might have looked like he was complaining to some. He was glad I was back, I could tell that much. Wolffe might have looked like an emotionless steel blast wall, but the man was still a sentient, and sentients interacted with the Force. It was a quiet, tame feeling he allowed himself in the confines of his mind, but he would never allow it to show. Clone Commander Wolffe was many things, emotional was not one of them, even if he did feel things deeply in the privacy of his soul.

Like Obi-Wan, he felt safe because he was strong and reliable and fiercely loyal. But my Master at least allowed himself to show feelings to those he cared for and trusted the most. Wolffe was the kind of person that didn’t open up easily even to his closest friends, regardless of how deeply he felt about things. It was the kind of self control and discipline only extensive training and programming in a Kaminoan facility could grant. I was pretty sure Master Plo and I were the only ones that had an idea of how Wolffe felt about certain things, and it both felt like privilege and like I was intruding on something deeply personal. Those were things the Force told us about him, not things he had volunteered himself, so Master Plo and I had come to the silent agreement that we would not speak about them until he volunteered the information himself. It was both heartwarming and sad to have such a close, intimate look into a person such as him and not be able to share them because at the end of the day it would have been very intrusive.

That is how I knew it hadn’t been the 104th who had gifted me the vibroblade, it had been him. That is how I knew he was annoyed at the celebration the 212th wanted to throw for me. That is how I knew he liked my older armour best, because it didn’t have a wide, loud orange stripe. That is how I knew Art hadn’t been completely dishonest when he told me Wolffe was a little too protective of me.

And now, walking side by side, finally having a moment to ourselves in what seemed like years, I could feel how at ease he was. The Force around him flowed naturally, almost visible in how bright it felt, and yet, to the naked eye, he looked no different. His back straight and his pace leisurely, face relaxed as he spoke of his brothers’ shenanigans. He was so at peace, and for a moment there I didn’t realize that very peace was being reflected within me.

I was so lost in the feeling of the Force around him that I missed the question he asked me.

“Huh? I’m sorry, what was that?”

Wolffe cleared his throat and repeated the question, never taking his eyes off the corridor ahead.

“I was wondering about the new robes, Commander. They suit you.”

I looked down at myself. Right, the new robes. Last time he’d seen me I had been wearing a style that resembled Tusken robes. They had soon proved to be quite inefficient when I’d accidentally caught fire twice.

“Oh, right. I thought that since my armour represents who I fight for, who I fight with; then my robes should tell a story too. Where I came from, where I am, where I’m headed.” I answered truthfully.

“But, Commander, you don’t have the insignia of the Republic on your-” said Wolffe, confused for a second until his mind clicked. I could see the realization in his eyes. “Oh- don’t let anyone know that.” he added seriously, taking me by the arm and guiding me towards the wall for privacy. He looked in every direction before looking me dead in the eyes and saying the next words. “Some could call that treason, Commander.”

I smiled at him and put a hand on his bicep.

“You are not anyone, Wolffe. I trust you. You know I fight in this war because I have to, but I am not a soldier. I fight so that the Dark Side doesn’t win, I fight so that innocents don’t suffer, I fight because I can’t bear to see the Jedi commissioning an army of slaves and do nothing about it. I’m not blind, Wolffe, clones aren’t free, the war has hit you the hardest and until you are free to do your own will, the least I can do is keep you alive. This war cannot last forever.”

Wolffe was not one to show emotion, but I knew stoic when I saw it, and I had the Force. He wanted to disagree with me, he wanted to tell me he was a free man and that he fought because it was the right thing to do, but he knew that was not true. He wanted to tell me he was not a slave, he wanted to tell me that his brothers and him did not need protecting, that they did not need pity or saving, but he knew it wasn’t true.

He wanted to be angry, to contradict me, to defend the system, the very people that had created them, he wanted to say that without the war they would not exist. But existing to fulfil somebody else's purpose, to die for that cause that wasn’t his own, to know his life had no meaning of its own, that was not living. His eyes were conflicted, his soul tormented, his conscience raging because he wanted to fight, but he didn’t know how much of that will was his own.

In the end, all he could do was take a deep breath in to try and calm the storm raging inside of him and say:

“We will not betray your trust, Commander. I will not betray your trust.”

…

I had an entire week off with the Pack before our next deployment, and I spent every single moment of it catching up with the boys. After a disastrous night bar hopping in Coruscant, I promptly decided the Jedi had the right idea when they said alcohol was no good. One hangover was enough to last me a lifetime, thank you very much. I spent the day after napping on a cot while Art worked on my left shoulder blade, and only got up to sip on my water bottle -which Boost, Force bless him, refilled every time I emptied it- and to go to the refresher. At some point during noon, Twitch brough Art and I lunch from the mess hall and stayed to chat before going off to do some reading of his own. It was a very lazy day, and so were the ones that followed. Except for the evenings when Headfirst came to drag my ass to the training facility and made me do my lightsaber drills while he did his own thing. We would wrap up the day with a spar which, to be completely honest, wasn’t always a fair fight. Since I had the advantage of Jedi training, Headfirst had gotten into the habit of playing dirty. We had to agree on a new set of rules when he decided trying to get me angry with misogynistic comments was a perfectly good idea. He had a black eye for the next two days.

Once our week was over, briefings and preparations for our next mission to Khorm started. It was the first mission I would be in command of, Master Plo was being held up in Coruscant my Council duties and would not be coming with us. So the mission was technically in my hands -even if I did have Wolffe and Vero Zapal, our admiral. The situation in Khorm was unknown to us. Like in Orto Plutonia, the republic had lost contact with a clone division stationed there. The entire overview looked, at first glance, like a re-living of Orto Plutonia, since Khorm is also a frozen planet, but something felt terribly off to me. I told Wolffe and Zapal this, and that we would be going in to investigate with the utmost caution. Things never happened the same way twice, and I doubted the universe was going to go easy on me on my first command.

I was going to take every precaution and plan every last second of the mission, and prepare at least one contingency plan. I knew from experience that battles had a knack for throwing plans out the garbage shoot but it paid well to be prepared. Every maneuver, every flight route, every entrance, nook and cranny of the facility was taken into account; and every plan I made, I ran by both Wolffe and Admiral Zapal for their opinions.

It’s safe to say I didn’t really sleep well that week, not because of nightmares or resurfacing memories, but stress and anxiety does have a knack for making sleep restless. I meditated more during that week than I had before any battle I’d faught up until that point. I practiced mindfulness every morning as I woke up and tried my hardest to keep the Force as close to me as I could.

I tried to keep my appearance as neat and put together as I could, and tried to do the same to my quarters, but the amount of holomaps and  datapads on my desk were too many to keep in a neat pile. I didn’t want any aspect of my life to be neglected during that time, because neglect leads to darker places and I would not allow myself to be distracted in any way. Lives were at stake.

My friends helped in any way they could when they weren’t busy making their own preparations. Some sat with me during lunch, even when I was too busy reading to talk to them, others forced me to exercise or to take recreation breaks, others simply checked on me at night to make sure I wouldn’t stay up too late reading. It warmed my heart, even when I couldn’t tell them how thankful I was for taking care of me.

I also fell into the habit of performing my lightsaber drills every morning and every night. The funny feeling I had about the mission only grew as our departure date neared and something told me I needed to be ready. In any other situation, I would have considered the possibility that I was being paranoid, but we were at war against a very real enemy. It was only paranoia if they weren’t out to get you, and our enemy was.

It was almost time for lights out when Wolffe walked into the training facility. Only a section of it was lit up, the one that I was still using. I repeated form after form, one, two, ten, forty times until I was satisfied with it. I felt him approach me from the darkness, but I didn’t acknowledge him until he stood a few feet away from me, watching, waiting for me to stop. I didn’t.

“You should turn in for the night, Commander.” He said finally, never shifting his posture. Straight, solid, face and body language betraying nothing as he stood with his hands at his back.

“My forms aren’t as good as they should be, I’m staying for at least another 50 reps” I said, never stopping, my pace never dwindling. “Go to bed, Wolffe.”

He said nothing, but he also didn’t move. Wolffe just stood there, watching me move through the forms once, twice, three times. He wasn’t annoyed, I knew that much. He wasn’t pitying me either, he was simply there to make sure I didn’t work myself to exhaustion. He didn’t even feel resigned, it felt like he knew me well enough that he didn’t expect me to stop when he asked me to. He felt determined, like he knew the only way to get me to listen right then would be waiting for me to be done. There were times to insist and times to wait, he had known me long enough to identify each of those instances and react accordingly.

Wolffe knew I was nervous and doing my very best so that everything went smoothly. He knew the thing that stressed me out the most was the fact that his brothers’ lives, my friends’ lives might be in danger. He knew I would blame myself for each and every loss we suffered, and he knew this was my way of getting ready for that. Because we would lose men, we always did. But up until that point, I had never been the one in charge, I had never been responsible for the cones’ deaths, not really.

So Wolffe stood there, silent and strong and reassuring. Because he knew nothing he said would make me feel any less responsible, because he knew the best thing he could do was to be there for me.

[prongsisabadger]

TWP Chapter 24

I really needed to stop getting injured on the battlefield, eating med bay food was getting a little old. That, and Master Plo had threatened to bench me unless I learned some self-preservation. I couldn't really argue with him on that point, I did have a tendency to put myself in harm's way to spare others, the thing is, that if I was getting injured this often it was because I was risking myself the way clones did on a regular basis. If they thought I was getting injured a lot, it was because clones were getting killed a lot. That didn't erase the fact that I probably had a savior complex and needed therapy, but that was beside the point. At the end of the day, it was all worth it. I didn't do these things for the clone's gratefulness or recognition, but it felt nice all the same. The best part of doing what I did was seeing the injured clones I saved being released from medical care. That was what kept me going.

Different battalions had different ways of showing loyalty, affection and gratefulness, I came to realize. The Pack made sure to integrate you to the force, welcome you in with open arms and regard you as a full fledged member of the family. The 501st was a little more clumsy in their approach, they refused to call you anything but the title they'd chosen for you and on rare occasions saluted you or even patted your shoulder or back.

The 212th on the other hand, were the kind of men that returned the favor silently. Just like their general, they were better at showing rather than telling, which is why T.H Boil and Waxer were assigned to be my official wingmen. And by wingman I mean shadows. It had been a unanimous decision of the three after the skirmish on Naboo. They had approached Commander Cody, and then General Kenobi with the idea. If I was going to put myself in so much danger for their sake, the least they could do was make sure I didn't get myself killed in the process, they said. Master Kenobi found the wording very amusing. He agreed to it because it would give him a little peace of mind since it would be harder for me to get killed with people actively trying to stop me from doing so.

A little peace of mind and a ton less anxiety. But he never said that, of course. Obi-Wan Kenobi would be dead before he told anyone a situation made him have feelings, but I had grown amongst the sand people and then lived with the Kel Dor. I knew stoic when I saw it, and I had learned how to read it. Master Kenobi was a lot easier to read than he thought, one just had to look at his actions rather than his words. There was a reason he had perfected sarcasm and made it into an art form, there was a reason for him to grow silent when things got rough. Obi-Wan Kenobi was many things, cold was not one of them.

I did also realize I would have to be more careful though. Severe injuries would be quite detrimental to my health in the long run, and I still wanted to be able to protect people once the war ended. But in order to do so, I would have to survive that long first. The thought of the war ending seemed incredibly far-fetched at the moment. Conflicts were starting in all corners of the galaxy, those that were already in motion continued to escalate, and the GAR's troops continued to be stretched even more thinly. The kaminoans were working overtime to provide fresh troops to aid the overworked ones and Jedi were being Knighted left and right to make up for the lack thereof in the battlefield. Things were complicated, and they would get even worse long before the war came to an end.

But there was no use in thinking about the future, I had to make sure to be present in the moment or I ran the risk of making mistakes I would surely regret. For now, I had to rest and recoup as best as I could and start preparing for our next assault on Felucia. We would be working alongside the 501st once again, and there was much work to do still. We had two battalions to coordinate, a patrol to organize and a planet to take. Even if battles often forced one to throw the plan out the window, it paid well to be prepared.

During my time in the med bay, I'd gotten into the habit of calling The Pack. It was usually Art who had the holo transmitter and passed it around the barracks whenever we spoke. I hadn't realized just how much I missed them until I was put on bed rest for an entire week after Naboo and there had been no one with me. No Art to tease me for being reckless, no Headfirst to punch my arm for being stupid, no annoyed Twitch to grumble about my savior complex. There was no Wolffe either to be angry at me in that quiet, exasperated way of his, no pat on the shoulder.

Naturally, none of them had said a thing about it when I called, only Art did that first time and quit instantly when I didn't laugh with him. They understood, they didn't say it but they missed me too. I would tell them about my day and they would return the favor, maybe throw in a funny anecdote of something silly one of them had done. It felt extremely lonely, but it comforted me to know they were there, whole, healthy and alive.

"Took your time," said Art when I called.

I had waited until the end of the day when I could have some peace and quiet in my quarters. I was sitting crossed legged on my bunk, the holo transmitter on the mattress in front of me.

"Sorry, we're moving in on Felucia soon so last minute details are taking most of my time," I answered honestly before yawning. "How 's the gang? You guys going anywhere soon?"

"Not right now, the General is dealing with things in the Temple and we were given a few days off before we are assigned another quadrant patrol," he said sitting down on his own bunk. "Things are quite boring without you here, Commander. None of the boys will let me work on them."

"That's because none of us want our entire bodies tattooed like the Commander does." Said a voice outside the hologram. It was most likely Headfirst.

I chuckled and smiled fondly, I missed them so much.

"Well, this will be my last assignment with Master Kenobi until new orders come in, so you'll have your canvas back in no time, Art." I said. "Just make sure you find some blue and orange ink, I'm gonna need it."

"How many?" He asked somberly, as if he felt the weight of every name he tattooed on my skin.

"Fourteen blue, one orange," I answered. "Orto Plutonia was especially rough on the 501st. I'll tell you about it when I see you."

I knew there was a chance of someone overhearing my conversations with Art, and although Jedi were allowed their opinions, my thoughts on Chairman Cho weren't exactly Jedi-like.

"Make sure you do," he answered before leaning back on his bunk and smirking. "By the way, Wolffe found out what you did on Naboo. He isn't happy."

I groaned, the man was going to put me through the grinder for this one. One thing was shielding someone on instinct, another thing entirely was compromising one's own health because 'I'm gonna die anyway'.

"Fuck, he's gonna kill me."

"Nah, he's just concerned for you, and a little overprotective if you ask me. I told him already Jedi can't have relationships but he doesn't seem to-"

"Art, stop teasing the man, he's got enough on his plate already."

"I'm just saying, if he wants to get laid, he should look elsewhere, Jedi code and everything…"

I laughed hard. I sometimes forgot the clones were younger than me even if they didn't look it.

"I mean he could if he found a Jedi looking to let off some steam." I kept laughing.

But Art seemed to freeze. He sat so still all of a sudden that I thought the signal was getting cut.

"What do you mean?" He asked finally, seemingly forcing himself out of his shock.

"Well, Jedi aren't allowed possessive relationships and emotional attachments, sex isn't necessarily forbidden. It depends on how the Jedi decides to interpret the c-"

"Are you telling me none of you are virgins?!" He probably was a little too loud about it considering he was inside the barracks, but I didn't really mind telling him since it was a common misconception.

"Are you telling me you thought Obi-Wan Kenobi was?" I laughed. "A man is not that sassy and confident if he isn't a great lay, he screams big d-"

"But wait, that means you…"

I laughed even harder.

"Is that really what you are worried about?" I wiped the tears from my eyes as I tried to answer without making him feel stupid about it. "I could if I wanted to, Art. I just chose not to because I need an emotional connection with a person to even want it, and since I am a Jedi and we don't allow those, sex isn't something I want because to me it implies an emotional attachment."

There was a beat of silence as he considered this. He even looked around beyond where the Hologram ended, probably to see if his brothers were as baffled by this as he was.

"I feel cheated," he said finally. "You are telling me I might have had a chance with General Fisto?"

I smirked and raised my eyebrow, now this was new intel to me.

"Art, I don't think the GAR rules of conduct allow for that either, regardless of Master Fisto's status as a Jedi."

He sighed dramatically.

"Yeah, I know but still."

I yawned again and tried to cover it with my hands. The day had been quite hectic, and I had an early morning the next day in order to put the finishing touches on the plan. I said goodbye to Art and turned the transmission off. Chatting with my friend always put me in a better mood, and to have that comfort before heading to bed made for very uneventful nights. I would let him deal with the new information I'd dumped on him, it would take a while for him to assimilate. It would also be less fun to stop him from trying to get me -or Force forbid, Master Plo Koon- laid. Art was a romantic at heart, he thrived when playing matchmaker, and I would definitely be one of his targets. I didn't mind though, it was fun to frustrate people into giving up.

I put the holo transmitter away before changing into my sleeping clothes. As I layed down,it occured to me that having such strong attachments to those around me might not be wise. But it felt so right, to have people to care for, to be cared for. It felt right to have friends, to have family, to have the care, love and loyalty of people. Oh and to give it back, to return it was even better. To protect, to care, to love, to miss. How could it be wrong? Yes, the explanation was simple enough. Attachments create strong feelings, and if those feelings are hurt then the way the person reacts might lead them to the dark side. But is it not the reaction the problem rather than the attachment? Surely healthy coping mechanisms and emotional maturity would be much more detrimental to the dark side, wouldn't they?

Wouldn't they?

[prongsisabadger]

TWP Chapter 23

Things seemed to be going according to plan. When we were notified of Vindi's capture at least. T.H. and I had finished booby trapping the northern exit and were now trarting the last sweep of the lab that Master Kenobi had ordered. We were to find and terminate any surviving droids and secure the facility so that the GAR could seize the lab's assets. Everything had been going smoothly, until someone reported one last capsule missing. A capsule that contained the virus.

Senator Amidala informed us that Vindi had given it to a droid and that it most likely still had it. So the entire place was placed on lockdown. Comms were alive with chatter and new orders were being relayed down the chain of command. Every hatch was secured, the corridors to those that had been blown up in our attack were sealed, and within less than two minutes, the entire facility was closed off to the galaxy. And most of our troops were still inside. As soon as everything was closed, a tremor shook the entire place and knocked a lot of us off balance. The droid had set off the bomb.

The laboratory's safety measures kicked in and blast doors started to close down on safety rooms. I yelled at my partner to run for the nearest one, but we were right in the middle of the facility and all safety rooms were at least three corridors away. We run anyway. All around us doors were being closed and the feeling of being chased by an unbeatable enemy grew as we grew closer to the nearest safety room.

When we rounded the corner, Senator Amidala and Representative Binks were running through the threshold as well. The door closed down on the safety room as the Senator turned and saw us, eyes wide in surprise and desperation. We were locked out. Behind us, a wave of blue smoke approached with the speed of a Kaminoan wave. I put my mask on as fast as I could and turned the filter on for toxins before T.H and I were swallowed by it. It was ironic, such a deadly and unstoppable virus that closed in on you with the ferocity of facing your worst fears; but when you closed your eyes, it felt like a warm summer breeze on the skin -soft, tender, loving.

"Please tell me your helmet filters toxins as well as smoke." I begged my partner without turning to face him.

He didn't answer. He didn't have to.

Comms went wild with activity, superiors checking in with their troops, making sure the dignitaries were alive, trying to confirm the virus had been contained. I took the built in earpiece out of the comms device attached to my left forearm and put it on. I didn't want anyone listening in. Not when I knew what would come next. The device in my ear beeped with an incoming message.

"Commander Foreas." I said.

"Kriari, thank the Force, are you okay?" said the voice of my master.

He sounded worried. I didn't blame him, we both knew what this meant.

"T.H. and I didn't make it to the safe room. Clone helmets don't filter toxins, and while mine does, I'm not sure it can filter the Blue Shadow virus.," I told him honestly. "We will hunt down the remaining droids, but Master you need to leave-"

"I don't want to hear it, young one." he interrupted. His voice was strained, like even considering leaving me -all of us- here hurt him physically. "Anakin and I will find a cure."

"Master you need to consider that you won't be able to-"

"I am not leaving you there to die on your own, Kriari. I couldn't live with it, and I'm pretty sure I would have two battalions mutineering if I tried." He tried to joke.

I thought about the Pack, about my friends so many systems away, somewhere on the other end of the galaxy, waiting for me to return.

"If I do die here, it won't be your fault, Master. I want you to know that." I said. "Say you understand."

"I do. If the worst comes to happen, is there something I should tell Master Plo or any of the 104th?" he asked.

"Tell them I'll still have their backs, always."

I cut the conversation short, not wanting my mood to decrease any further. T.H.'s morale would go down even further and we still had a lot to do. I looked at him, he had taken his helmet off and was looking at my face. His expression was somber, but determined. We were going to die, he knew that, but he'd be damned if he showed any weakness now.

"Ready to take it out on all the tinnies left?" I asked him with a grin. Even if he couldn't see it, my eyes crinkled with the gesture.

He returned it and I could see the cold determination in his eyes. He would go down fighting.

"At your side? Any time, Commander." he said putting his helmet back on.

…

We were able to make contact with both Ahsoka's and Rex's teams, they had all made it to a safe room but had been intercepted by droids. They had closed the blast doors a second too late and were now all infected. Some of the men were already showing symptoms, and their physical energy was being depleted way sooner than anyone anticipated. By the time senator Amidala, representative Binks, T.H. and I made it there, Nax was already dead and Waxer was getting weaker by the minute. Both Rex and Ahsoka were infected as well, but they were powering through as best as they could.

We had all made up our minds though. We were finishing the job and making sure the virus stayed inside the lab forever. It didn't matter that we were still inside, we would all give our lives to save the galaxy from a fate even worse than an intergalactic war. We separated into two teams, one Jedi each. The men of the 212th would be coming with me, and Rex and Ahsoka would be going with the digitaries. We would clear out the reminding droids and make sure not a single hatch was opened. I did warn the other team about the boobie traps on the northern hatch so they wouldn't be getting any nasty surprises.

Before we went our separate ways, I took both Ahsoka and Rex aside.

"Take care, you two." I said, patting both their shoulders. "May the Force be with you."

"It was a pleasure, Commander." Answered Rex, saluting me.

"May the Force be with you too, Kriari." returned Ahsoka with a sad smile.

There was no need for more.

I turned to the rest of my team. Waxer, Boil and T.H. were all waiting for orders. I had one wounded man and three infected. One of them was having a harder time dealing with the virus' symptoms already. The chances of us making it out alive were slim, very slim. But still, I couldn't bring myself to remain stoic, cold, unmoving. I wanted them to know that I would be willing to go down with them. I wanted them to know that my life was not worth more than theirs.

So I took my mask off.

They said nothing. they didn't need to. They understood the statement I was trying to make and accepted it. I was dying with them, that day or any other day the Force deemed it. I was going to die there anyway, the chances of our masters finding a cure were almost nonexistent, if the virus didn't kill me then starvation would. I was a walking corpse either way.

As it turns out, there had been a lot of droids left inside the lab that were now trying to escape. Thankfully, most of them were regular battle droids and SBDs, we had taken care of the droidekas already. It doesn't mean the fight was any easier, we were all more lethargic and tired as time went by. The virus affected airways and lungs, so breathing became increasingly difficult, even to those of us who were holding up better than the rest.

I made each member of my team take turns wearing my mask, the less contaminated air they breathed in, the better. It gave each of us a little more energy and clean oxigen every time we wore it, and for the most part, I think it was the thing that saved us in the end. The first of us went down once the last droid was destroyed. Waxer started gasping for air as he tried to hold on to the wall for support. His left hand went up to his neck as if trying to pry his larynx open manually.

I went into healer mode immediately. During my stay in Dorin, I had been taught the basics of Force healing, as well as first aid. The thing is that Dorin had a toxic atmosphere and intoxication was not uncommon, so even if I wasn't technically a healer -or had the makings of one- I knew I could at the very least help him breathe easier.

I instructed them to lay Waxer down on the ground and stripp him off his upper body armor. I put my mask on his face carefully, making sure the airlocks were secure and the filters working correctly. I kneeled down by his side and put one hand on his chest and the other on his forehead. I needed to calm him down enough for his body to relax and not struggle against me when I channeled the Force into his lungs. Waxer's body went limp within seconds, and when I deemed him ready, I moved my other hand to his chest.

It had been a long time since I had attempted to perform this procedure, but I would be damned if I didn't at least try. I focused my attention on his lungs, on his bronchi, on every channel the virus had stuck to and obstructed. And then I tried to persuade the midichlorians within them to fight against the virus. It was slow work, careful, meticulous. One thing was to persuade a mind to do your bidding, another entirely was to persuade organs that work on automatic reflexes. If done wrong, his immune system could detect my presence and deem me a threat. If that happened, I wouldn't be able to persuade it to focus on the virus instead of me. So I decided to do things right. Feel the Force around me, find the light and let it guide me through the process. There was no time for worrying, for what ifs, there was no time or room for anything other than the task at hand and the life, slowly fading before me. My hands tingled with the effort and little droplets of sweat started to form on my forehead and back. I didn't have all the pieces to the procedure, I knew the basics, but I knew in my soul that I wouldn't have called myself a Jedi if I didn't at least try to save this man's life. Because that's what he was, not just another clone, not a replaceable number on a list. A life form with a name, with a story, with a life and friends that cared for him. A person.

I could feel my breathing getting shallow with the effort and the unfiltered air. I could feel myself getting weaker as I used the Force in me to keep Waxer's alive. I could also feel the rest of my team's worry rising. They felt fine, physically at least, if a little tired, but their worry was rising steadily.

"Commander," started T.H. "Your face…"

I didn't answer, I couldn't afford to get distracted. I had finally convinced Waxer's immune system I wasn't its enemy and was now in the process of helping it fight back the virus.

"Comm-"

"Shut up, will you? Can't you see she's trying to focus?" Snapped Boil. "Just keep your eyes peeled for enemies and your ears open for comm chatter."

"She's going to get herself killed if she keeps this up," he insisted.

I tuned out the rest of the conversation after that, the treatment was working, even if it was slow going and consuming every bit of my energy. But it wasn't all me, Waxer's body was doing all of the heavy lifting. He was so strong, fighting so hard. It was his strong will to survive -even when unconscious- that kept me going. He didn't want to die, not yet.

So I wouldn't let him.

The only thing that got me out of my trance was the beeping in my right ear. It was a closed channel.

"I hope you are still there, young one." Said the deep voice of my Master. "It would be a real waste for you to die on me now."

I chuckled in my exhausted state, shedding a few tears of relief.

"I don't think I've ever been happier to hear your voice, Master." I confessed, falling on my backside and attempting to brace myself. I was so sleepy, so exhausted, I wanted to lay down and sleep for a lifetime.

"Hang in there a little more, Kriari. We'll get you out of there. All of you."

I allowed myself to let my tears flow freely as T.H. took a hold of me and Boil helped Waxer sit up. I hid my face in the trooper's shoulder as I exhaled in relief. We were getting out, we were all getting out. I knew Jedi weren't supposed to fear death, be it their own or others', but I felt no guilt then. I couldn't bring myself to feel guilty. I would live to see my friends, my family again, and I couldn't be happier.

[prongsisabadger]

TWP Chapter 20

It hadn't been a separatis attack, we all knew that. There were no blaster wounds on any of the fallen troopers, and droids -as far as we could tell- did not make a habit out of parading their victories by putting clone helmets on spikes. All deceased clones had either been stabbed to death, had their necks or spines shattered or died of internal damage. There was no way this had been a droid attack.

Chairman Cho insisted otherwise. While both Jedi masters followed Rex and his squad to an abandoned separatist base, I was left to keep the dignitaries safe. While they argued over which party was responsible for the attack, I helped Nax and his men bury their brothers. We scanned the wrists of every fallen man and buried them in the most dignified way we could. We took their helmets and used them to mark each grave. A total of thirty men had been killed.

"I know clones, for the most part, don't believe in the Force," I started, once all the bodies had been buried and all that was left was to honour them. "I know that becoming one with the universe seems far-fetched at best to some of you. But believe this: they died as soldiers. They died fighting for a cause they believed in: not for the republic, but for their brothers. They died so that we didn't have to. Let us honor their sacrifice and make it count."

Four troopers stepped forward and aimed their rifles to the sky where the wind made snowflakes fly like bullets. Four rounds were shot, and for the next minute, only the storm could be heard. It was getting worse, and Masters Kenobi and Skywalker were still out.

"Commander, I just got back word from Rex. He and the squad are on their way, but both the Generals decided to keep investigating." Nax said when he approached me.

"Good, do me a favor and check if the team inside managed to get systems operational. We are going to need them if we are to survive this weather." I answered.

"At once, Commander." But the man hesitated, he stood in place as if wanting to say something else.

"Anything else, Nax?" I asked.

"Just- thank you, Commander."

Rex brought troubling news: as we had expected, it had not been a separatist attack. The CIS base had also been overrun and decorated in a similar fashion to our own. Thing is, they had found surveillance footage, and the planet was, in fact, populated. The news brought no joy to the Chairman, the man all but called the Captain a liar and denied the fact that Orto Plutonia could be inhabited. Pantora had had the planet under its protectorate for generations, after all. But we all kept our mouths shut. Rex did because he was a professional, I did because if I said something I would probably start yet another intergalactic conflict. That and Obi-Wan would be pissed at me. Call me what you like but if there was something I hated it was disappointing people.

I decided to leave the command center to the politicians, maybe then they'd have a sense of control and stop harassing troopers. So I went to the hangar to "oversee" inventory and reparations.

"You know, Rex? I really admire your self control, it took all the training I had not to kick Cho's ass back there." I said as I jumped on the hull of a speeder and sat down.

The captain chuckled underneath his helmet as he crouched to check that the speeder's systems were working properly.

"Oh, kid, you wish it was self control," he said, taking the tool I offered. "Trooper helmets have different communications settings and they can cancel audio input and output. You'd be surprised at how much chatter's been going around today."

"The amount of gossip must put a Hutt's spy network to shame…" I chuckled.

"It's not all bad," he said, turning the speeder on and running diagnostics. "Most of it was troopers wanting to see how Cho would fend against a Jedi Padawan. For all his talk, most of us think seeing him bested by a seventeen year old would be quite entertaining."

I shot him a playful glare. I knew it was wrong, but Force did I want to kick his ass. He was arrogant, rude and a total womp rat to senator Chuchi. Patriotism died in the face of toxic masculinity apparently.

"You know I can't do that, however tempting it might be…" I said.

"We know, but watching you try to hide the impulse is very entertaining."

He dodged the snow ball I threw at his head, chuckling as he made his way to the next speeder bike.

…

As soon as Master Kenobi and Master Skywalker returned, I realized for the first time that my lightsaber was the wrong color. I did not have the patience to be diplomatic with people like Chairman Cho, the man deserved a roundhouse kick in the ass and absolutely no authority over other living beings. And everyone around me agreed. Master Kenobi was so done with the man, he couldn't even bring himself to be sassy anymore, and even worse was the fact that Master Skywalker wasn't speaking at all.

The only person who was genuinely interested in changing the Chairman's mind was Senator Chuchi and to be completely honest, the woman deserved an award. I would have beaten some sense into him but Obi-Wan's seriousness frightened me more than the frustration the Chairman provoked.

The Chairman insisted that the Talz had no jurisdiction in Orto Plutonia, that they were savages trespassing on Pantora's territory and that they were a threat to them. It didn't matter that they didn't have the technology to leave the planet, or to get light that didn't come from a fireplace for that matter. Nothing mattered, only that we were all on his land.

To be fair, those kinds of situations were the reason I'd decided to become a Jedi, but every time the Chairman opened his mouth I wondered whether it had been the right choice. I decided to just keep silent and follow Master Kenobi's lead, I couldn't trust myself on this one. If I had, Pantora would have had to hold elections for a new Chairman. there was nothing I hated more than entitled beings.

To be honest, I didn't really think the Masters' efforts to resolve things peacefully would work -not if the Chairman was the one carrying out negotiations. And we all should have seen the result coming clicks away. The first indicator was when we were setting off for the meeting with the Talz and Cho told Rex to gear up for war. Granted, General skywalker told him there would be no war, but someone had yet to tell that to Cho.

The Chairman had had every chance to change his mind. The Talz had proved to be intelligent enough to monitor us, to have scouts follow us, to have evaded our scanners. Their status had been put in question when it was proved that they were intelligent enough to have developed not only a language but also a writing system -however rustic. The Talz had every right to be respected, they just didn't have the luxury of a sensible person on the other side of the negotiations table.

And the Jedi? We could do nothing about it. Chairman Cho had declared it all an internal affair, and not even Senator Chuchi had the authority to denounce his authority. So war was declared. Ironically enough, however eager to declare it an internal affair, Chairman Cho was ordering our troops around as if he had any right to them. It was sickening to watch, and I could stay silent, but never idle.

"Master Kenobi, I'd like to escort Rex's squad." I said as soon as Cho started ordering troopers to gear up.

"Kriari, the Chairman has declared this an internal affair. the Jedi cannot intervene." He sighed.

"Then he has no right to our troops, Master." I insisted. "I know you are not going to let him go undefended, but at least let me go as backup. The men don't deserve to die for his arrogance."

Obi-Wan seemed to consider it as he looked me in the eyes. Maybe he was searching for something. Maybe he found what he was looking for.

"Very well, but you are not to intervene for anything other than protection. Understood?"

"Yes, Master," I said, and in my relief I hugged him. "thank you."

…

The only good thing I had to say about chairman Cho was that at least he rode at the very front of the suicide squad he had assembled. The clones followed him only because thos had been their orders, they were not stupid. The enemy was only the enemy because the man at the front of the charge had made them so -even if they had reason to resent them. The Talz were in their homeland, they knew the territory, the best spots for ambushes, they were not hindered by the weather conditions. We were at a disadvantage, a big disadvantage. And still they followed orders, because above all, clones were good soldiers, and good soldiers followed orders.

Good soldiers died that day, for a man who was not worth the life of a single one of them.

It happened so fast yet so slow, as battles often do. We were ambushed and as we had expected, the Talz weren't messing around: colonizers were not welcome in Orto Plutonia. I jumped off my speeder and took point, cutting spears left and right and deviating others with the force. We were surrounded, Rex got the men to take defensive possitions. We were all doing our jobs tight, everyone was in possition, but we were being overrun by an enemy who had the numbers and the terrain on their side. Six troopers went down.

"Retreat!" I yelled over the noise of blaster fire and the growl of the beasts Talz rode. "Rex, get the men out of here!"

The Chairman tried to protest, to call me a coward, to say they could never retreat when faced with beings so inferior. I cannot say if I could have prevented him from getting stabbed when he did. I was too busy making sure the troopers lived to fight another day. It might have been wrong for a Jedi to admit, but I didn't care if he died.

Rex took the wounded man and mounted up. I covered as much of the retreat as I could before jumping on the back of Nax's speeder. We were not in the clear, not yet. The canyon stretched around us and the enemy knew the terrain well. Even in our retreat we were losing men. Some got shot down, some got caught in a trap. I tried desperately to Force push spears away from the troopers, to cut down those that got past me. It was difficult work when trying to hold onto the back of a speeder bike.

To our dismay, the enemy had booby trapped the ice bridge that led to the tundra as well. two more troopers went down when they were trying to get across. The bridge collapsed, and with it our only way out. We were surrounded, the storm had jammed communications, and as far as we knew, no support was coming.

"Just like in Christophsis, ey, Commander?" Said Rex beside me.

I smiled sadly at him.

"Tighten up formation, Captain. I'll do my best to redirect enemy fire away from the men." It had become a habit of mine to default to 'business mode' when in a tight spot. Compartmentalizing was a lot easier when the lives of others depended on you thinking clearly. "Ger Coric to tend to the wounded right in the middle of the formation. Hopefully we'll make it out without any more losses."

But hope was often worth jack shit in war. We lost three more men before the gunships showed up. The sound of the LAAT/i engines over the roaring storm almost made me cry, and the ceasefire on the enemy's side even more so. I turned my lightsaber off and grabbed Rex's forearm. He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed. We had made it through another one, if barely.

"You okay, Rex?" asked Skywalker as soon as they got off the ship.

"Just a scratch, sir." he said.

"Tell me." He said, voice low and grave face.

"Eleven dead and several injured including the Chairman. Would have been a lot worse if the Commander hadn't been here." He said patting my shoulder.

Master Kenobi had been looking at me the whole time, waiting for me to say something maybe. Or maybe just checking for injuries. I shook my head, I didn't want to talk about it, not right now. The price for one man's arrogance had been too high. Too many men had died needlessly because one man decided colonization was worth more than peace.

I am not ashamed to say I was glad when Chairman Cho died. In my eyes, he deserved it. Maybe his death would at least be a little consolation for the eleven troopers who lost their lives that day. I didn't hate people easily, but I hated that man, and I was glad that he had died. An even better consolation was Senator Chuchi denying the man his dying wish. There was cruel satisfaction in knowing that he failed to achieve his aim even when he had died for it. The fact that the Talz had been recognized as sovereign over Orto Plutonia gave me ever lasting satisfaction if only because that meant all those troopers hadn't died in vain. And then, there was one less war to fight in the galaxy.