The Pond Builders
Ponds are one of the most popular features in British gardens, and for a good reason. They provide a haven for wildlife, a place to relax, and an opportunity to get closer to nature.
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Pond builders is a company that helps build ponds across the UK. We work with individuals, businesses, and organizations to create custom-built ponds that are both beautiful and functional. Our team of experts has years of experience in pond design, construction, and maintenance, so you can rest assured that your pond will be built to last.
Modern technology
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Creating a haven for wildlife
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Pond Builders can help you create the perfect pond for your garden. We offer a range of sizes and styles to choose from, as well as custom-built ponds to suit your specific needs.
The Pond Builders team is passionate about ponds, and we would love to help you create one in your garden. Contact us today to learn more about our services or get a free quote.
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Rex & Cody and the unclear connection points
Summary:
Rex and Cody recently got Natborns on the ship who are actually civilians and of course they can spawn randomly in the galaxy, not to mention they have some potential for anything that can burn. Time for a briefing
Non-native speaker, pleaser bear with me.
Masterlist
Rex has two headaches. One is called Anakin Skywalker, is practically the same age as him in Natborn years, wields a glowstick and has never landed a ship without it being destroyed. The second is a baby Jedi edition with pointy teeth and an even pointier tongue - small, so small, so inexperienced, so eager to learn, but.... SMALL! And of course it comes after the first headache, Rex never has it easy. There was even a song written about it, 'I like it rough' by Lady Gaga - Rex recently got one of those strange cell phone devices, packed with music from an alien planet, which he listens to while typing reports. And he makes playlists, depending on his mood, the 'Headache' series in gradations from one to four. Playlist Two-three-quarters is currently playing, blaring out of the small device on the metal plate, next to a crooked tower of datapads. Framed in a really picturesque way, a few more are scattered across the plate, always nicely lined up, as straight as possible, because Rex doesn't like clutter.
The only thing that doesn't fit into the picture is the bottle, the liquid in it is dark red, a strange contrast to the other light and dark gray in the cabin, especially as it glows because it illuminates the lamp above the desk.
Rex has thrown his legs up on the table - the door is closed, no one can see him like this and that's a good thing - and rubs his temples with one hand before stretching and reaching for the bottle. A very slow movement, as he still has a datapad on his thighs that he doesn't want to drop. The display grins at him, the grooves roll down gently, always at the same regular intervals, spreading a cold blue-white light - because there's nothing there. He hasn't typed a single letter yet, there isn't even a heading because he has deleted it.
Education - inappropriate, doesn't hit the nail on the head, too complicated, raises too many questions.
Nici and Jojo - sounds like porn, he'll never save it anywhere where Wolffe can find it and make stupid comments.
Natborn operating instructions - See above, this is even worse. Rex must know, he knows his vod'e, even Bly howls with laughter at the title and he wasn't really susceptible to dick jokes.
My fourth headache - If a Medic somehow reads this, Redcross will annoy him again. He can actually ignore him, but recently there's a younger brother in the medbay (Kix, because their names are the same length and share a letter, Rex likes him) and he flinches every time he pulls the Medic title, but he does (and Rex doesn't like that).
Cody's problem - Would be lying, it's his own, because OF COURSE they didn't show up on the Negoiator, no, no, no, they showed up on the Resolute. Of course.
For now, Rex puts the bottle on and takes a big swig, even if the alcohol burns his mouth out and brings tears to his eyes - it's the weird stuff his boys have been brewing lately, he urgently needs to do more routine inspections in the barracks, otherwise they'll flood the ship and that won't end well. According to the regulations, alcohol is forbidden on duty, on the ships, on all GAR equipment. Luckily Rex is always on duty. Carousing assholes.
A little absently, he shakes the bottle gently in his hand, listens to the clear liquid gurgling, then places it on the edge of the table next to his ankle. What a risk, what a danger, he of all people, the rule-abiding captain, rebels in his old age, becomes careless, not at all Cody's little nerd. Kriffin' hell. If Fox knew that, his eyes would pop out.
Speaking of Fox. Rex grabs the right-hand datapad - his own, he can even feel it through his gloves, every groove on it, the light scratches. The painted Jaig Eyes, he can't, although there's even a second pair of them by now (If he already has a Natborn who is gifted at drawing who's getting on his nerves, he might as well use that, to the prime with you, Kote!)
The commander chat is empty, no new messages after the last flood of fraternal insults, Rex has to tap the arrow key a little until the chat with Fox pops up. He hasn't read the last twenty messages either (he probably doesn't even know how to do that), not that it would stop Rex from sending him another stupid holonet picture. At the same moment, the name at the top of the chat gets fat - WhatdoestheFoxsay - He says get karked is ONLINE. What's going on here?
Rex is about to send him a middle finger when the door next to him shoots open-
"Fuck you, Cody, you're late."
He is, way late, probably his stupid ori'vod was banking on Rex already having this thing ready. Uhh, I'm marshal commander, Rex, the responsibilities, you have to understand me...
Yeah, no. On principle, Cody isn't looked at, at least until the commander leans over Rex's feet and grunts as he grabs the bottle Rex confiscated for himself.
"Get your own booze, what do you have Ghost for!"
"Get your feet off the table, you rag."
First stealing alcohol and then getting cheeky, that's what Rex likes. Cody should know better, of all people he knows how Rex deals with this sort of thing and yet he drinks far too relaxed - at least until Rex elbows him in the stomach. Cody gasps, tears his eyes open, actually spits booze, goes down on his knees for a millisecond - ever so slightly, but Rex has seen it and can't help but laugh. "Where's your cover, what's wrong with you?"
Very slowly, Cody raises the hand he's holding the bottle in, wipes the back of his hand as he stares at Rex, the semi-evil Cody look Jojo likes to call "Sauron himself". Whoever that is, the image of a glowing red eye on a tower presented to him didn't help much - speaking of Jojo. The problem part one, the reason Rex is sitting here, and Cody should be here, but he's a nasty Hutt and is, once again, late.
However, Cody is of the opinion to remind Rex of his marshall commander rank, he fixes Rex again without blinking, the head slightly tilted. "Are you getting cheeky, vod'ika?"
There were times when Rex was really a bit scared of him. He was three then, now he's twelve, soon to be thirteen - which Cody seems to like to forget, as well as that they have the same training, only Rex, because he was planned as a CT, didn't become a commander and won't be because his Jedi has a Padawan.
Because Rex only folds his arms behind his head and smiles compassionately at his ori'vod, Cody bares his teeth for half a second. "Oh, you asked for it, karking little shit...!"
And then he leaps forward, throwing himself at Rex with all his weight before Rex can get the blaster out of the holster. "You don't stun me, don't stun me, Rexi!"
He's totally going to do that, Cody will see, for now they roll around on the ground, trying to pin each other, before Cody goes limp all at once and just stays on Rex's chest like he's a pillow. "I'm getting too old for this shit, why did I train you again..."
So that they can now both sit side by side in front of Rex's bunk, legs stretched out, the questionable bottle between them. It's half empty by now, Cody's eyes are glassy, Rex's own are certainly glassy too, but he can't see that. However, he can already see his vo'd, who has rested his head on Rex's leg and is scratching the bridge of his nose, just like the datapad in Cody's hand.
"Karking hell, of course we get that kind of shit and nobody else does. Can't even Ponds get kriff like that? Or Wolffe, the big bad Wolffe on a rescue mission, he knows a thing or two about civilians - we absolutely won't ask him, Rex. Never. You might, but I will not."
No, Rex won't either, it's enough that the Commander calls him a puppy, no matter how many times he punches him in the face. Some things just never change, especially with Wolffe, the imperfect commander in the marshal patch. All of his batchmates - Cody, Fox, Bly - they all became marshals, except Wolffe.
Because Wolffe didn't want to. In short, if Rex asks Wolffe for help because he has two karking Natborns on his ship that the Jedi don't know exactly what to do with, he'll laugh at him, just laugh hysterically into the com, before pushing him away, guaranteed with a comment like "You wanted to join us, CT!". Rex doesn't like that (just like when the medics pull rank, but he's more likely to let Kix take care of him than ask his ori'vode for help with Nici and Jojo).
Because Rex doesn't answer anything, at least not vocally, he snorts once too loudly, which makes Cody grin wickedly before his favorite brother shakes his head. His hair scrapes over the plastoid under his head, Cody reaches out for the bottle and yawns without covering his mouth. "I could ask Bly. Emphasis on could, I'm sure he already knows what's going on with us anyway. After all, his Jedi is also on the Council and she tells him too much anyway. I'm actually surprised that nothing has come-"
Rex's datapad beeps, the display lights up and reports a message on priority mode in the command chat.
He sticks his finger in Cody's ear. "You've jinxed it!"
Unfortunately, it's Cody, who stares Rex in the eye and doesn't even react, even though Rex put his finger in his mouth beforehand. Cody's nose twitches for half a second, though, making Rex curl his lips into a grin, before he leaves Cody's ear and grabs his datapad.
BLYla REX
BLYla REX REX REX
BLYla REXxxxxxxx
WhatdoestheFoxsay - He says get karked Shut up
BLYla Rude. REEEEEX. Cody
BLYla Then this way @WOLFFE . Rex and Cody have kids!
NeYO is online
NeYO Nova asks for more information, which ARCs are there this time
BLYla has sent a picture. A blonde young woman with curls pokes Ki-Adi-Mundi through the eye, another dark-haired one looks fierce enough that Wolffe would be proud
BLYla Something to say?
Bacara Mood.
BLYla Not you!
Bacara Shameless slut
Wolffe is online. Wolffe has sent a picture.
WHO. IS. THAT.
That's a problem for someone else. Rex has work to do. He has to finish writing a report. Regrettably, his Ori'vod is a marshal and he needs to read the chat, especially messages sent in priority mode. Cody clicks on the chat without comment and immediately disconnects before the pad can show his status as online.
Ponds is online.
Commander Cody, I can see the activity log. Anything to say to the matter?
"No," Cody grumbles against Rex's leg, rolling onto his other side. "I don't want to. I'm drunk - We finish this fucking file now and send the thing, then we're out and all the other shebse shut the fuck up. Great idea, very good, let's do it, so come on, old boy. Rex, type something."
Funny, hilarious, but Rex dutifully takes the datapad - and waits. Connection points in orders need to be clarified, so let Cody do it, because he should know best.
So far, he's just staring at the ceiling, his own datapad pushed far away from him towards the door so that he doesn't see the flashing of new messages. "Let's start with... We'll just make a list. Bullet point one: Keep away from anything flammable. Bar two: Humor is good, but inappropriate, a gag is recommended. Bullet point three: Will not die immediately in blaster fire. Follow orders, nevertheless clarify rank beforehand. Mirror line four: Mirror line four: They offer cookies if they want to apologize. Cookies are very tasty. Dash Six: Unrecognizable in the Force, the Jedi disagree on how to proceed. Until then, categorized as... Natborn in clone training. Mirror Stitch Seven: Further testing and training required. Mirror Stitch Seven and a half: Deal with it, shebse - You know what, Rexi? Who do these two actually belong to, as whom did your idiot of a general save them?"
In the system, Cody says in the GAR system, they have to be listed, because Rex will start a rampage if his battalion gets less food because of Natborns. "Information person, but with the wrong form. He took the one for contact-persons."
All at once, Cody jerks up vertically - he's grinning ear to ear, a real Kote-grin. Damn, did Rex miss that, they've been getting fewer and fewer since the war started, the last one was a long time ago, so karking long ago...
"Contact-persons, yes? Very well. The 501st is ultimately under the command of the Seventh Air Force Corps, in other words under my command. I just happen to be responsible for their training and development. Coincidentally. You suggest people as ARCs and I sign off on it, of course, that's how it works. So the Natborns are formally mine and not outside Jedi? They're part of the GAR, though never officially joined, of course not, because contact-persons, thank heavens for Skywalker's lack of competence...!"
Two minutes later, Rex is typing on a training form for continuing education whereas Cody is just laughing. He's still chuckling even when their request is confirmed and Kamino announces that they're expecting and scheduling the three of them to arrive in three standard weeks.
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