A place to gather the stories I've written for easy access. Mostly Star Wars/The Clone Wars, but there will be crossovers and other fandom works as well.
This is a side blog to my main one, @ladysongmaster. This will be a collection point for all my writing, hopefully making it easier to find the stories.
Here are the stories you can find on this blog. The series titles are being used as tags, so you can search for a specific series.
Care and Comfort: a series of one shot (unless noted otherwise) reader insert stories, romantic and platonic, featuring the clone troopers. I am taking requests, if there’s a story you want to have written about your favorite trooper.
Care and Comfort - Winter Edition: a series of one shots inspired by winter/holiday themes.
Brothers’ Keeper: At the moment of his death at Darth Vader’s hands, Commander Fox is sent back 13 years into the past. He decides to go to Kamino to help his little brothers during their formative years.
Children of Providence: Mand’alor Din Djarin and some of his warriors get sent back in time to the night Order 66 is executed. Anakin Skywalker gets kidnapped and events are put into motion to change the fates of the clones and Jedi alike.
Call of the Sea: Ashla Tano is a college student who works part time at the Marine Life Rehabilitation Center. One day she’s called to the mansion of local business mogul and philanthropist, Sheev Palpatine, where she meets a merman named Rex.
Our Silver Lining: A series of stories in a non-Order 66 universe that follow the clones and Jedi as they find happiness and spend time with their loved ones.
To Save the Ruins of Tomorrow (TStRoT): A Clone Wars/The Others (by Ann Bishop) crossover.
Made for Kyber: Force-sensitive clone AU.
The Domino Batch - an AU where the Bad Batch saves Domino Squad at the Rishi Outpost.
@ladysongmaster-library I love your fics so much they’re just so 🥰✨💖💕💞 they’re so sweet; so cute!!! I’ve been reading every night for the past few days and I- *giddy giggling* AH! I love how much energy and detail you put into each one of them I could just die!!!
Summary: It's been a rough day. The last thing you expect to find when you finally trudge into your apartment, is Rex.
Words: 533
Warnings: none
**********
You walk into your apartment at the end of a long workday, feeling like you accomplished nothing. You were unprepared when your boss called on you in the team meeting, you spilled lunch down your front and had to just deal with a stained shirt the rest of the day, and the hovertrain was packed to the gills with people rushing home.
You’re exhausted, mentally more than physically. You just want to get into some comfy clothes and lie on the couch watching holomovies for the rest of the night. Or maybe you’ll just go to bed early. You don’t even care about dinner at this point.
So the last thing you expect to find when you finally trudge into your apartment, is Rex.
He’s been shipped out for a few weeks, and neither of you knew when he’d be back. He’s grinning and wearing the civvies he leaves at your apartment for when he’s visiting. Rex has apparently been there long enough to cook because a lovely aroma fills the air.
For a moment, all you do is stare. Then you feel your expression begin to crumble. Tears blur your vision and you drop your keys and bag to the floor. The grin falls from Rex’s face as he hurries toward you. His warm, strong arms go around you and you bury your face in his shoulder and cry.
“That’s it, verd’ika,” he says as he runs a hand over your back. “Let it out.”
Rex kicks the door closed and just holds you, rocking gently. Your hands fist in his shirt and you cling to him as the emotional storm rolls through you. Rex rests his cheek against your temple and murmurs soothingly in your ear. When the worst of the crying is done, and you’re reduced to hiccupping sighs, he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.
You shake your head.
“What can I do for you?”
“I just don’t want to be in charge for a while,” you say.
Rex chuckles. “You’ve come to the right place.” He releases you and gives you a gentle push toward your bedroom. “Go get your comfies on, then come sit on the couch. I’ll take care of the rest.”
With a nod, you shuffle to the bedroom. You pull on a pair of lose sweatpants, a baggy shirt, and your favorite fuzzy slippers, then head back to the living room. Rex is waiting for you with a thick blanket, which he wraps around you before you sit on the couch. The apartment is quiet, except for the sound of Rex moving around in the kitchen. He comes back a minute later with a mug of your favorite hot drink and sits next to you.
“There you go,” Rex says, handing you the mug. “I’ve got stew warming on the stove, if you want some later.”
“Thank you,” you murmur.
You sip your drink and when you’re done, Rex slides his arm around you, encouraging you to rest your head on his shoulder. With a sigh, you lean into his side and feel your body finally relax.
Summary: You somehow get dragged into a snowball fight with the 21st Nova Corps.
Words: 1059
**********
“Incoming,” Patience yells from his lookout in a nearby tree.
You tuck yourself against the snow barricade as a volley of snowballs goes flying overhead. Commander Bacara is crouched on your left side with Rothax behind him. D’zan is on your right with Kanlinn and Jol’i.
“Stay down,” Patience calls. The sniper lobs a few return snowballs as Keller’s team pops up from behind their own fortifications to throw more snowballs.
“Got Brolliv and Catch,” Patience reports. “Maybe one of these days Catch will stop trying so hard to live up to his name.”
D’zan and the other Novas chuckle.
“Glad you’re on our side, Pay,” you call up to Patience.
The sniper gives you a thumbs up, then hurls another snowball. “Ah, just missed Commander Keller’s pretty face.”
“You know he’ll put you on ‘fresher duty for the rest of your life if you actually hit him, right?” Bacara says.
Patience smiles. “Why do you think I missed?”
D’zan takes your hand, drawing your attention. “I think we ought to go do some recon, don’t you? Just in case Keller sent some men to try and flank us.”
You bite your lip to hold back giggles and nod.
“If we get hit from behind because the two of you are making out, I’m going to be very disappointed,” Bacara says.
D’zan grins at his commander and flips him a rude hand sign before dragging you away from the barricade and into the surrounding trees.
“We are going to do some recon, aren’t we?” you ask.
“Of course,” the CMO says. “I wouldn’t leave my men high and dry like that.” He pulled you close to his chest. “But there’ll be a little making out too.”
Your laugh is cut off by D’zan’s mouth settling on yours. You sigh into the kiss and wrap your arms around his neck. Before you can get too caught up in each other, there’s a soft, out of place sound that draws your attention.
“Scouts,” D’zan whispered.
“Probably,” you whisper back. “Think they’ve seen us?”
“Only one way to find out.”
D’zan bends over and gathers snow into his gloved hands, forming a compact ball. He hands a couple to you, then makes a couple more for himself.
“Guess they haven’t seen us yet,” you say.
“Or they’re waiting to get a good line of sight,” D’zan says. “Come on.”
The two of you move deeper into the trees in the direction of Keller’s fortifications, eyes scanning for any sign of the enemy. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot movement. Without thinking, you hurl a snowball in that direction. A startled deer bounds away leaving you staring at another trooper. His hand is cocked like he’s ready to throw. Before he has the chance to move, a snowball disintegrates against his chest.
The trooper, who you recognize as Crit, mutters a soft, “Kark, taken out by a medic,” and sits down in the snow to play dead.
You grin over at D’zan who smiles back at you. The two of you head over to Crit’s side.
“You ever disparage a medic again, vod, and I’ll make sure your next physical is one you’ll never forget.”
Crit laughs good-naturedly and takes a swipe at D’zan’s legs, which the medic nimbly avoids. D’zan holds his hand out to you, and you accept it.
“Come on, my dear. Let’s go find Tally and take him out.”
Tally and Crit are almost always partnered together on scouting missions.
“You’ll never see him,” Crit says, grinning, and lays back in the snow with his hands behind his head.
You do, in fact, see Tally a few minutes later. Mostly because his snowball whizzes past D’zan’s head as the head medic stoops to gather more snow for a snowball of his own. There follows a brief but intense snowball fight, which you and D’zan win by pelting Tally with snowballs to the torso.
“I yield,” the scout says, sitting down.
“You can’t yield,” you say, imperiously. “You’re dead.”
“Bleeding out from a gut wound, I’d imagine,” D’zan says helpfully.
“Any other scouts out and about,” you ask.
“I’ll never talk,” Tally says. He grabs his chest dramatically and falls back into the snow, tongue sticking out in his approximation of death.
“Good try, cyare,” D’zan says. “We’ll work on your interrogation skills later.”
The two of you follow Tally and Crit’s tracks and quickly find yourselves at the edge of Keller’s camp. You and D’zan belly crawl to where you can see the other team. The ‘dead’ are playing a game of sabacc while those still among the living are lobbing snowballs at Bacara’s group.
“I think we could end this right now,” D’zan whispers.
“There’s too many of them,” you say. “They’d take us out.”
“Just don’t miss,” D’zan says.
Then he stands up and walks toward the enemy camp with his hands raised in surrender. You try to grab him, but he eels away from your grasp.
“Dank farrik,” you growl.
A couple of Keller’s men notice D’zan and call for their commander. Keller walks over, mostly blocked by D’zan’s body.
“’Don’t miss’ he says,” you mutter. “Hard to miss when you can’t even take the shot.”
The two men talk for a moment, then Keller turns to the side so his men can take D’zan into ‘custody.’ The commander is in profile, a smaller target than you’d like, but he’ll move any second now, and you’ll completely miss your chance. You stand up and take a breath in, ignoring the shouts of Keller’s men, then breathe out and hurl your snowball.
It impacts against Keller’s face as he’s turning to find out what all the fuss is about.
Silence hangs heavy in the air.
You stare in horror-tinged glee at the shock on Keller’s face.
“Sorry, commander,” you say in a small voice. “Didn’t mean to get you in the face.”
Keller drags a hand down his face, wiping the snow away.
“I guess that means we win,” D’zan says, cheekily.
Keller frowns at the head medic, then looks toward the barricade your team is sheltering behind.
“Bacara, come get your CMO and his neverd before I decide I have the authority to put them both on fresher duty for the foreseeable future.”
Summary: You go to a winter market with Draa and the 41st Elite Corps on Mirial.
Words: 797
**********
The sun is setting when you arrive at the winter market with Draa and his brothers from the 41st Elite Corps. The guys are taking a winter holiday to Mirial with their former general, Luminara Unduli, and commander, Barriss Offee. Since you and Draa are dating, he asked you to come with him. You haven’t had a proper vacation since before the war, so you were happy to say yes.
The market looks like a small village. Everywhere you look there are semi-permanent wooden structure or brightly colored tents. One whole section of the market is open air grills covered by awnings to keep any precipitation off. The smells wafting through the air make your mouth water.
“Where do we even start?” you ask Draa.
He looks around for a moment, then says, “Sweet or savory?”
“Sweet,” you reply without hesitation.
Draa grins and takes your hand, leading you toward a tent where a couple of Mirialans are manning a table laden with goodies. You look over the selection and ask a few questions, then select a pastry puff filled with a sweet cream and a long, deep fried portion of sweet dough sprinkled liberally with cinnamon and sugar. Draa makes his selections and pays, then the two of you step away from the table to try your treats.
The cream-filled puff melts on your tongue with the flavors of vanilla and chocolate. You and Draa share the cinnamon-sugar fried dough. Then you’re off to the next stall. This one is selling little homemade truffles with various fillings. You get a little box with some of your favorite flavors to eat later. You pass up a couple more food stands to step under an awning and admire some carved wood crafts from local artisans.
“I have a friend back home who would love this,” you say, holding up a wooden windchime.
“You should get it,” Draa says.
You find a couple more items for friends and family and make your purchases. Then you and Draa head back out to try some more food. You get a bowl of noodles and finely chopped vegetables in a savory broth, share a skewer of mean wrapped in cheese and rice flour and deep fried, then head over to view the ice and snow sculptures. There are scenes from everyday Mirialan life—hunting and a large family meal and weaving—religious icons, and scenes from events in the wider galaxy.
“I wonder if the general and commander have seen that yet,” Draa said.
You look where he indicates to see a larger than life representation of Luminara Unduli and Barriss Offee in snow, a legion of little clone troopers depicted at their feet and up the sides of the frieze. Whoever the artisan or artisans were who’d carved the sculpture, they’d gone to pains to intricately capture the two Jedi from their tattoos to the patterns on their clothes. There was even a plaque that noted some of the major battles the two Mirialan women had fought in.
“It’s incredible,” you say
The two of you wander amongst the sculpture a little longer, then go looking for a warm drink. You end up finding a literal bar carved out of ice which serves both cold and hot drinks. As you wait for your orders, another clone comes up beside Draa, and you recognize Buzz.
“Looks like you’ve been having fun,” Buzz says, gesturing to the bags you’re carrying. He holds up his own bag filled with chunks of meat and vegetables. “You out to join us. The general is going to show us how to grill one of her favorite dishes.” He nods to the long lines of wire mesh set up over metal half barrels filled with coals.
Despite all the treats you’ve tried, something more substantial sounds lovely. You and Draa get your drinks and follow Buzz to where the men of the 41st are huddled around their former general and commander. The two Jedi share how they season their meat and vegetables. There’s even a couple of small pans for cooking things like rice and noodles that might otherwise fall through the wire mesh. Once the food is on the grill, the troopers scatter to their own grills to try it for themselves. You and Draa end up sharing a grill with Buzz and another trooper named Junnit.
You all talk and eat and tell stories for a long while as night falls around you. Somewhere nearby a group of musicians start up a song. Draa pulls you out onto an impromptu dance floor with other couples and the two of you cuddle close as you sway to the music.
“This was lovely,” you say, resting your cheek against Draa’s shoulder. “Thanks for bringing me.”
You look up in time to see the trooper go whizzing past on a sled, whooping and laughing. At your side, Kix groans.
“Someone’s gonna die, I just know it,” the medic grouses.
You bump your shoulder against his. “Naw, that’s why you’re here. To patch them up if they run into a bush. Or a tree. Or a deer. Right?”
The two of you are manning the awning that’s been set up where the guys can get hot drinks and snacks. There are also a couple of portable heaters where Tup, Dogma, Kano, and a few others are currently defrosting.
Kix gives you a side-eye look. “Why can’t they go down feet first? At least that way if they run into anything, it won’t be with their heads.”
“If Hardcase runs into anything with his head, I pity whatever, or whoever, it is he crashes into,” Jesse says, joining you and Kix. He’s wearing a blue knit beanie over his bald head with a matching scarf around his neck in addition to a heavy winter coat and thick gloves.
“You’re not helping my blood pressure,” Kix says.
“Just be glad the 212th isn’t here to egg the guys on,” you say.
Jesse laughs and Kix cringes.
You hold out a cup of hot chocolate to Jesse, which he accepts. His fingers brush yours and you feel the heat rise in your face. You’ve had a crush on Jesse since before he’d become an ARC trooper, but you don’t know how to take the next step past the mild flirting that the two of you exchange. You’re fine interacting with Jesse when there are other people around, but when it’s just the two of you, you get tongue-tied and flustered.
You’d tried to talk to Kix about your crush, to see if he had any advice. But his reply had been, “Just kiss him.”
Since you can hardly to talk to Jesse, there’s no way you’re just going to walk up to the man and kiss him.
Kix pulled out a tray and started filled cups of hot chocolate on it. “Why don’t the two of you take some drinks to the guys?”
“Good idea,” Jesse said, helping Kix fill cups and load them on the tray. “Some of those guys haven’t been down here yet. I bet they’ll appreciate the warmth.”
You shoot Kix a betrayed look and he winks back at you. With a sigh you place some ginger cookies, homemade protein bars, along with some nerf and nuna jerky on another tray. Once the trays are filled, you and Jesse pick up your trays and begin the trek to where most of the 501st waits for a free sled at the top of a fairly impressive hill. Someone didn’t plan the trooper to sled ratio very well—and a few of the formplast sleds have been broken by overly enthusiastic troopers—so waiting seems to be the order of the day.
As you and Jesse walk, Hevy, Denal, and Cutup slide past doing their best to surf on their sleds. Cutup biffs it first sending up a plume of powder, followed quickly by Hevy. Denal makes it to the bottom of the hill, but promptly falls over when he punches the air in victory and overbalances. Cutup and Hevy join you on the walk back up the hill and grab some snacks for themselves.
At the top of the hill you and Jesse are mobbed by grateful troopers. You’re quickly relieved of your tray as it gets passed amongst those seeking nibbles.
“Thanks for this,” Captain Rex says, saluting you and Jesse with his cup of cocoa. “Some of the boys and I were just about to head down to get warm. Either of you planning on sledding?”
“I am,” Jesse said. “Just waiting for a free sled.”
“Sledding isn’t really my thing,” you say. “I mostly came to help Kix.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Rex says. His eyes flick to Jesse and a little smile crosses his face. “Have fun you two.”
You don’t even have a second to wonder what’s going on. Jesse’s arms go around you and a red sled appears next to him, held by Fives and Echo. Jesse sits on the sled pulling you with him, one long leg on either side of you. His arms are still wrapped around your waist.
“Wait. What? No!” you cry.
“Don’t worry, cyar’ika. I’ll keep you safe.”
“I’m not worried about my safety, Jesse!” you growl. “I just don’t want to go sledding.”
Fives and Echo put their hands on their brother ARC’s shoulders and start running, pushing the sled toward the hill. Your eyes go wide as the speed picks up, and your hands grip Jesse’s forearms tightly.
“Never mind! I’m terrified. Let me off!” you shout.
“And, launch!” Fives says as he and Echo give the sled a final shove.
You scream as the sled starts down the hill, picking up even more speed. Jesse’s arms are a solid weight around your middle, and you can hear him laughing in your ear. You’re not on the main slope that the rest of the troopers have been sledding down. Instead the two of you are blazing a new path through some fresh powder. The sled hits a hidden bump underneath the snow and catches some air. You let out a shout and clutch at Jesse’s arms again.
“I’ve got you,” he says.
A second later you hit an even larger bump. The sled goes one way and you and Jesse go another.
You come to rest on your back and squeeze your eyes shut against the slight nausea that grips you.
“Jesse?” you groan.
There’s a grunt from underneath you. You mutter, “kark” and roll to one side. Jesse grins up at you from where he’s smushed into the snow.
“That was fun,” he says. “We ought to do it again.”
You think about dropping a handful of snow onto his face. Feeling bolder than usual—possibly due to the near-death experience of rolling at speed down the hill—you settle for draping yourself across his chest.
“I think I’m all funned out for the day,” you say.
Jesse’s hand rests on your back. “How about a date then? Tomorrow night.”
“You couldn’t have just asked me at the top of the hill?” But your heart leaps in your chest at the thought of a date with Jesse. “I suppose you can make this fiasco up to me by taking me somewhere nice.”
Jesse sits up and grins, relief on his face. “You don’t know how long I’ve been trying to ask you out. Kix said I should just kiss you.”
“Oh, he did, did he?”
With that, you grab Jesse’s lapels and pull him in for a kiss. You’ll deal with Kix later.
Summary: You wake up to deep snowdrifts and realize you get to spend the day at home with your favorite person, Howzer.
Words: 449
**********
The house is dark and quiet when you wake up. Your nose feels chilly but the rest of you is just perfect, wrapped in a body warmed cocoon of sheets and blankets. You reach over to snuggle up to your favorite person, only to find Howzer’s side of the bed is empty.
You roll over and look at the chrono your nightstand. It’s dark, indicating a loss of power.
With a sigh you get up and shiver. The house is cool. You pull the blankets up on the bed so the heat doesn’t escape too fast, pull on a robe, and go looking for your beloved. The house is small. It doesn’t take you long to rule out the kitchen, ‘fresher, and the tiny office, which only leaves the sitting room.
“Howie?” you say softly as you enter.
There’s a single candle burning on the fireplace mantle, providing enough light for you to see the room. He’s standing in front of the big bay window looking out over the front yard. He’s dressed in soft sleep pants, a short-sleeved shirt, and bare feet. You wince a little, since you’re pretty sure it’s cold on the hardwood floor.
“Hey, sarad’ika,” he says as you slip an arm around his waist and lean into his side. His arm goes around your shoulders and he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Did I wake you?”
“No. But I rolled over for a cuddle and you weren’t there.”
Howzer hugs you closer for a moment. “Sorry. I woke up when the power went out. I was just making sure everything was alright and got caught up in the scenery.”
The landscape outside the window is white as far as the eye can see with more fat white flakes falling from the sky. It’s got to be at least two feet deep out there, if not more.
“Did it ever snow on Ryloth?” you ask.
“Yes, but nothing like this.”
You move around to stand in front of him, rising up on your tip toes to kiss the scar on his chin. “I have the feeling that all your meetings for today are going to be cancelled.”
He grins at you. “You think so, huh?”
“Absolutely.” You rest your head on his chest. “We’re clearly snowed in. You definitely can’t go anywhere for the next twenty-four hours, at least.”
Howzer tips your head up for a kiss. “We’d probably better go back to bed then. It’s going to get cold in here until the power comes back on.”
“We can always light a fire.”
“True. But I believe you said something about cuddles.”
Howzer’s laughter rings out as you practically drag him back toward the bedroom.
Summary: Blackout spent the evening shoveling the nearby neighbors’ driveways and caught a cold. You get to take care of him.
Words: 506
**********
Blackout stands on the mat just inside the doorway removing his coat, gloves, and soaked shoes. His pants are wet up to his knees, his hair is damp, and his face is pale.
“Honey, are you all right?” you ask, rushing to his side. “Where have you been?”
“After I finished shoveling our driveway, I went and did old Mrs. Carroway’s. Then I remembered that the Manilaar’s just had twins, so I shoveled their driveway, and I did a few of the older couples’ driveways on the way back to our house.”
He shivers and you pull him toward the bedroom.
“It’s still snowing so I had to shovel our driveway again when I got back,” Blackout says, following you without protest.
Summary: You make a blanket fort for the cadets with the Rancor Commanders.
Words: 1249
**********
“What exactly is the purpose of this again?” Blitz asks.
He drapes a blanket across a rope strung across the planetarium and secures the edges with some light weights. Scattered across the nursery the volunteers who’d joined you on Kamino after that battle that had left dozens of little clones without their growth tubes are setting up more little blanket tents. Colt, Havoc, and Hammer are helping as well.
It’s been a little over a year since the battle, and the younglings have grown so fast. They look like three-year-olds now, and very soon they’re going to start their training. You have anywhere from a matter of weeks to a matter of days left with the littles and you intend to make the best of it.
“To have fun,” you reply.
“We never had fun when I was a cadet,” Blitz mutters.
“So that’s why you’re such a stick in the mud,” Havoc says, grinning.
“Stow it,” Colt says. “A lot of things are different now from when we were cadets.”
Blitz mutters and goes to hang another blanket. You lean into Colt’s side and give him a smile.
“Thank you for agreeing to this. I know the Kaminoans probably didn’t like it.”
Colt’s arm snakes around your waist. “I didn’t actually tell them what we’re doing. I just said it was a nighttime exercise.”
You laugh and hug him. “Better to ask forgiveness than permission, eh?”
“Haven’t heard that one before. I like it.” Colt bends down to rest his forehead against yours.
“Ug! Will you two stop making googly eyes at each other and help?” Havoc calls.
You hear chuckles from some of the volunteers.
You lift your head a little and catch Colt’s lips in a lingering kiss. Several people cheer and a couple make exaggerated gagging noises. You break the kiss and turn to stick your tongue out at Havoc.
“Oh, very mature,” he teases.
You turn back to Colt to find him staring at you with a dazed little grin on his face.
“Come on, cyare,” you say softly, using the word he calls you when you’re alone. “We’ve got work to do.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Colt says.
It doesn’t take long to finish setting up the room. Colt, Havoc, and Blitz leave to pickup the cadets while Hammer fiddles with the planetarium’s controls.
“What night sky do you want?” the commander asks.
“Alderaan,” a couple of volunteers call out.
“Hoth,” another person says.
There are calls for Kashyyyk, Corellia, Sullust, and a few more for Alderaan.
“Sounds like Alderaan wins,” Havoc says, looking over at you.
You shrug. You’re the unofficial official leader of the volunteers, so you try not to cast a vote unless an executive decision or a tie-breaker needs to be made.
“Alderaan it is,” Havoc says, setting the controls.
The holoprojectors in the half-spherical room hum to life. The room is filled with the image of a grassy plane on Alderaan with Appenza Peak in the distance. It appears to be spring and clusters of wildflowers dot the landscape.
“Can you change the season?” you ask Havoc. “It’s winter in Aldera now.”
With a few quick taps, Havoc changed the holoprojection. Snow now covers the ground. Havoc makes a couple more adjustments to the system and spotty clouds appear in the sky. Occasional snowflakes drift down.
You smile. “Perfect.”
The Rancor commanders arrive a few minutes later followed by the cadets you and the volunteers have been taking care of. The little boys look around in excitement at the tents and scenery. The commanders join you and the other volunteers at the front of the room.
“We’re going to simulate a camp out tonight,” Colt says. “We’ll be naming constellations and sleeping rough, so everyone find a partner then sit down outside your tent.”
Most of the cadets choose one of their brothers, but your delighted to see some of them gravitate toward the Rancor commanders and volunteers. One little boy with light blue eyes makes a bee line for you.
“Will you be my partner,” he asks.
You’re about to say yes, when Colt grabs your hand.
“Sorry, cadet. She’s mine for this exercise,” he says.
The little boy doesn’t seem deterred. “Then can she be my partner for the next exercise?”
You give Colt’s hand a squeeze. “I don’t see why not.”
Colt gives a little huff, but doesn’t contradict you.
The cadet nods, then runs over to Blitz and grabs his hand before the commander can protest. You slip your hand from Colt’s to go help a couple of the more shy cadets find partners, and to settle some disputes over who gets to partner with who.
As everyone settles, you make your way back to Colt and find him sitting in front of a tent in his blacks. You’ve seen him without his upper armor when he’d helped in the nursery—none of the babies liked to be held against cold plastoid—but never completely out of armor. Your cheeks are hot as you sit next to him. If Colt notices, he doesn’t say anything.
“Alright, cadets, settle down,” Colt calls. “Who can name a constellation in the Alderaanian sky for me?”
Hands shoot up and Colt points to one of the boys.
“The Queen,” he says.
“Right. And who can find the Queen?”
The cadets all look up at the projected sky, which is more than half obscured by clouds. It takes a minute, but a couple of cadets finally point the grouping of stars out.
“Found it!” they say.
“Good job. What’s another constellation?”
“The Rose of Alderaan!” several youngsters shout.
“Raise your hands,” you remind them.
Several hands go up.
“Alright,” Colt chuckles. “Find the Rose.”
The boys stare and stare at the stars overhead. You start snickering. Colt grins at you.
“What’s funny?” one of the cadets asks.
“It’s the wrong time of year to see the Rose in this hemisphere,” Havoc finally says.
The cadets all groan.
“Okay, okay. Settle down. What’s another constellation?” Colt asks.
Once they’ve named and identified all the constellations, the commanders start a brief lecture on cold weather survival. Your volunteers slip out of the room and return a couple of minutes later with snacks; a cup of hot chocolate and a s’more for everyone. The cadets chatter excitedly at the unexpected and unorthodox treat. You make sure Colt, and the other commanders get snacks too.
As everyone eats, the volunteers take turns telling campfire stories, some scary and some funny. As the hour grows later, the cadets move into their tents and curl up under their blankets. The adults all make the rounds to make sure the cadets are settled for sleep.
Once you get back to the tent you’re sharing with Colt, you stretch out and pull a blanket around yourself. A moment later he slides in beside you and curls his arms around you.
“You’re done so much for the cadets, cyar’ika,” Colt murmurs. “I can never thank you enough.”
You turn so you’re facing him. “I’m just glad they’ll have some happy memories to recall. Sometimes I just want to wrap Blitz in a blanket and hug him when he gets all grumpy.”
Colt laughs. “I think we all could have benefitted from having someone like you and your volunteers in our lives when we were younger. But we didn’t turn out so bad.”
“You didn’t turn out bad at all,” you say, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose.
**********
This is kind of a sequel to Colt x Reader from the main Care & Comfort series.
Synopsis: You and Gree are on a winter vacation. He’s found something he just has to show you.
Words: 1249
**********
“Are we almost there?” you ask, huddling into Gree’s side.
It’s cold on this frozen planet Gree decided the two of you should spend the winter holiday on, and despite your gloves, parka, and other winter apparel, and the thick blanket wrapped around the two of you, you’re a lot colder than you’ve ever wanted to be.
“Almost,” Gree says. He grins and the little dimple, formed from a wound where shrapnel had caught him in the cheek during the war, appears. He no longer wears his hair in the double-stripe look he’s worn for years, but he does still dye it red.
Due to the pristine nature of the little village where Gree rented a cabin, and the surrounding wilderness area, no repulsorcraft are allowed. So the two of you are making your way to Gree’s mysterious destination in a sleigh pulled by a large, six-legged feline the locals called an ik’rae.
“If we’re not there in five minutes, I’m going to subject you to my cold feet again tonight,” you threaten.
Gree had nearly fallen out of bed the other night when you’d stuck your cold toes behind his knees. Now he just laughs and plants a kiss on your lips.
Summary: After a few hours spent wrapping presents, you and Wolffe cuddle in front of a roaring fire.
Words: 794
**********
You lean back against the couch with a tired sigh and survey the chaos of your living room. Wrapping paper, bows, and ribbon are strewn everywhere. Along with a very satisfying pile of neatly wrapped gifts.
You’re in the habit of buying holiday presents all year long so you don’t spend a ton of money all in one go, but you have a bad habit of leaving the wrapping of said present until the last minute. And this year, you’ve got more presents than usual.
Wolffe, the love of your life, came with several brothers.
You didn’t really mind. Comet, Sinker, Boost, and Warthog are all great guys. You had no qualms about adding them to your holiday gift giving list. But the extra presents did make more work during the wrapping phase.
At some point during the wrapping, you’d opened one of the living room windows. All the moving around had warmed you up, and the cold air was refreshing. Now that you’re resting, however, it’s getting a little chilly. You’ll get up in a minute and close it.
A minute passes. Then another. You’re just about getting ready to get up when there’s a knock at your door.
“It’s Wolffe,” a beloved, growly voice calls through the door.
“It’s open,” you call back.
Wolffe walks in and frowns at you where you’re sitting on the floor. He hangs up his coat and toes off his shoes before crossing the room to deposit a bag with the logo of a local restaurant on it on the caf table.
“Hi sweetie,” you say, smiling.
Wolffe leans down and kisses your forehead. “Hey, cyare. I brought dinner.” He shivers. “It’s cold in here.”
You point to the open window. “I got hot.”
“For the Force’s sake,” Wolffe says, going to close the window. “You know it’s winter out there, right?”
“Well, it felt like summer in here,” you say. “At least it did a few minutes ago.”
Wolffe mutters something about certain people not taking care of themselves as he stalks to the couch and grabs the blanket off the back. He drapes it around your shoulders, then heads for the fireplace. Unlike a lot of newer homes in the area, your house doesn’t have a gas fireplace. You haven’t lit a fire since the previous winter, but that doesn’t seem to stymie Wolffe. He opens the flue, cleans out any old ashes, and lays a new bed of tinder. In sort order, a cheery blaze is going.
“Don’t move,” Wolffe orders, then disappears back toward your bedroom.
You ignore the order and begin to tidy up the wrapping paper and ribbons with the blanket still wrapped around your shoulders. If there’s a fire going, you’re darn well going to be able to enjoy it however you please. Your current intention is to get Wolffe to cuddle with you on the couch when he returns.
The plan changes, however, when Wolffe reappears.
He pauses in the doorway with his hands on his hips. “I told you not to move.”
You give him a cheeky grin. “I know.”
Your lover rolls his eyes and walks toward you.
“Sit,” he commands, pointing to a spot on the large, soft rug in front of the fire.
You bite back a ‘No’ and the instinct to remind him that he’s no longer a commander and can’t give you orders. But you’ve noticed that worry line that forms between his eyebrows and decide he’s just being snippy because he’s concerned.
You sit, and Wolffe sits across from you. He takes one of your bare feet in his large, calloused hands, and you finally see what he’s been holding. It’s a pair of fuzzy socks.
“You need to take better care of yourself, cyar’ika,” he mutters, sliding the sock onto your foot.
Warmth that has nothing to do with the fire floods your chest. He gestures for your other foot, and you move it into his grip. He slides the other sock onto your foot.
“I just got distracted,” you say. “It’s no biggie.”
“Maybe not this time,” Wolffe concedes. He moves closer to you and pulls you against his chest. “But I don’t want to come home to find out you’ve burned the house down because you got distracted while cooking.”
You play-slug him. “I’m not that bad.”
Wolffe chuckles in your ear and your insides do an interesting little flip-flop.
“No, you’re not. But remind me to tell you about the time Boost nearly burned down the camp on Hisseen.”
You giggle, then give a little shriek as Wolffe lays down, dragging you with him. You end up half sprawled across his chest.
“Menace,” you growl at him, rearranging the blanket to cover both of you.
“Mesh’la,” he replies.
The warmth from the fire, and Wolffe’s closeness is doing wonders for your chilled skin. In a minute or two you’ll grab the food and the two of you can eat here in front of the fireplace.
You lean down and kiss him. “Stop flirting with me when I’m insulting you.”
“I’ll never stop flirting with you, ner kar’ta,” he says, pulling you in for a longer kiss.
Summary: Hunter took you to his cabin in the woods to spend some quiet time together. The silence of the woods during snowfall are soothing to all his senses. Having you close only makes it better.
Words: 472
**********
“Mesh’la,” a familiar voice murmurs close to your ear.
“Mmm?” you hum.
After a fantastic dinner, and a long luxurious bath, you crashed on the couch in Hunter’s cabin. He’d draped a soft flannel blanket over you then built a fire in the hearth. Then he’d sat on the floor with his back against the couch so you could run your fingers through his thick curls. You’re not sure when you’d fallen into a light doze, but you’re warm and drowsy and very disinclined to move.
“Come with me, mesh’la,” Hunter says, sliding his fingers beneath the blanket and finding your hand.
Instead of letting him pull you up, you tug him down for a sleepy kiss. You can feel his smile against your mouth. He indulges you with a sweet caress of lips, then pulls back with a brush of calloused fingers over your cheek.
“Come on, tooka kit. I want to show you something,” he insists.
You sigh and finally open your eyes. Hunter’s warm, tan skin practically glows in the light of the fire. The flames pick out auburn and gold highlights in his dark hair. His amber eyes are focused on you with a gentleness that makes you warm in a completely different way. He pulls you up from the couch and snags the blanket. Then Hunter leads you to the front door of the cabin and out onto the porch.
It’s snowing. Has been for a while if the drifts at the bottom of the steps are anything to go by. You shiver and let out a long puff of cloudy air. You feel Hunter step up behind you and he wraps the blanket around both of you, pulling you snug against his chest.
For a moment, the two of you just stand there, watching the snow fall through the trees in the moonlight. There’s no other sound besides the beating of Hunter’s heart against your back, the soft waft of his breath by your ear, and that unique almost non-sound of snowflakes drifting into each other.
“It’s so quiet,” you whisper.
Hunter hums his agreement into your hair, the rumble vibrating into you where your back meets his chest. You turn in his arms and rest your head on his shoulder, arms looped around his waist. He presses his lips against your forehead, then rests his cheek on your head.
You love this about him. The way both of you can just be with each other.
You enjoy talking and laughing with him. You love hanging out with his brothers and little sister. But there’s something so intimate about these quiet moments, when it feels like you’re communicating without words, and your souls mingle in the silence.
Slowly, the two of you begin to sway, moving to the sound of ice crystals dancing on the air.
Synopsis: You come back from caroling to find Fives has hot chocolate and cuddles ready for you.
Words: 425
**********
“Stars, it’s cold out there,” you gasp as you step into your apartment and close the door.
“And you wanted me to come caroling with you,” Fives calls from the direction of the kitchen.
“It you really loved me, you would have come and suffered too,” you say. You unwind your scarf and hang it on the coat rack by the door. “I’ve heard you sing with your brothers. I know you’re good.”
Fives appears in the doorway, a big grin on his face. You can’t help but grin back as you strip off your gloves, coat, and boots and rush into his outstretched arms. You press your frozen nose to the warm skin of his neck, making him yelp and giggle.
“Only a select few deserve to hear me sing,” Fives says. His big, warm hands run up and down your back. “Also, I wouldn’t have been able to prepare the living room if I’d gone out with you.”
“Oh?” you inquire. “What did you prepare?”
You give a little whoop as Fives scoops you into his arms and carries you into the living room. There’s a little space heater going next to the couch, a pile of fluffy blankets, and it looks like he’s set up a hot chocolate bar on the caf table. You laugh as Fives deposits you on the couch next to the heater and wraps a pre-heated blanket around you.
Looking over the offerings on the table you realize Fives must have gone out to the store while you were away. There are three flavors of hot chocolate powder, four different kinds of marshmallows, and a couple of flavored syrups.
“We’re going to be drinking hot chocolate for months,” you say.
Fives wiggles his eyebrows at you. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
You make your drink with plain hot chocolate and a dash of hazelnut syrup topped with a few mini marshmallows. Fives goes for the flavored hot chocolates, white and orange, adds the hazelnut and mint syrups, and some of each kind of marshmallow. Your teeth ache just thinking about drinking that mixture. He joins you on the couch, snuggling into the folds of his own blanket.
“So, am I forgiven for not going caroling with you?” he asks.
You side-eye him as he takes a sip of his drink, then roll you eyes as he eagerly goes in for a larger gulp.
“Of course you’re forgiven.” You reach for his hand and twine your fingers together. “Just don’t give yourself a sugar headache, okay?”
Summary: You’re baking up a storm so you can give holiday goodies to friends and family. Fox is helping.
Words: 792
**********
“I’m back,” you hear Fox call a second after the door to your apartment opens.
It’s time for your annual holiday sugar cookie giveaway and you’ve been baking most of the day. You usually give a plate of cookies to your closest neighbors, your friends, a couple dozen for the people on your team at work, and now that your dating Fox, cookies for his hoard of brothers. It’s a tradition your grandmother started. Unfortunately, you’d run out of sugar, eggs, and a few other things and Fox had volunteered to run to the store to get more.
You think he may never want to look at another cookie again.
As Fox walks into the kitchen, you look around. Every available surface is covered with cookies; cookies on cooling racks, cooled cookies piled into precarious towers, cookies decorated in royal icing, and buttercream frosted cookies that have been doused with sprinkles. You start shuffling things around so Fox will have some place to put the purchases from the store.
“Hey, love,” he says.
You plant a kiss on his cheek as you take a couple of bags. “Hey, back at ya.”
You grab a bag of sugar and a carton of eggs and march over to your mixer to begin a new batch of cookies. You sneak a look at Fox as you begin measuring out ingredients. He looks a little overwhelmed by the state of your kitchen. To be honest, you’re a little overwhelmed. But you’ve done this tradition ever since you were old enough to stir batter without spilling it everywhere. Still, this is your tradition, not Fox’s.
“Hey,” you say, moving up behind him and sliding your arms around his waist. You lean against his broad back and feel his hands cover yours. “You don’t need to stick around. Go see your brothers. I can handle this.”
You feel his chest expand as he takes a breath. “I can’t leave you at the mercy of all these cookies,” Fox says. His hands tighten on yours. “I don’t know that I’d ever see you again. I’d come home to find the cookies had finally reached sentience by sheer mass alone and trundled off with you to start a new life with you as their deity.”
You chuckle and press your lips to his shoulder. Fox turns in your arms and leans in for a kiss, then presses his forehead to yours.
“It’s my first time doing this without mom or grandma to supervise,” you say softly, running your fingers through the silver-sprinkled curls at his temples. “I may have gone a little overboard.”
It’s Fox’s turn to chuckle. “I’m here to help. It’s only fair, after all the brothers that keep stopping in to visit.”
“I like your brothers.” You give him one last kiss and go back to the mixer. “I don’t mind them dropping in.”
Fox sits at the table and pulls a pile of cookies and a bowl of buttercream close. “That’s because you haven’t met Wolffe yet. He can be cranky.”
You scoff. “No one’s crankier than Thorn before caf.”
Fox shoots you an unimpressed look and you cackle. “Except you, of course, love.”
He pretends to flip some buttercream at you.
“Careful there, hot stuff. I can retaliate with uncooked cookie dough.”
“Force preserve me,” Fox says, pretending to swoon in his chair.
Just to be a brat, you lob a little ball of dough at his head. He catches it and pops it into his mouth.
“I like it better cooked,” he says.
“Most people do,” you reply, grimacing.
You expect some kind of retaliation, but instead Fox just goes back to icing cookies. You smile. It’s so nice to see him relaxed and at ease in your apartment. It had taken a while, when you first started dating, for him to take off his armor, metaphorically speaking.
The two of you work in companionable silence, Fox decorating cookies while you roll out the dough and start cutting shapes. You put the cookies on a sheet pan and place it in the oven. You turn and have a second to register Fox right next to you before he slathers a fingerful of chocolate icing across your mouth.
“Fox!” you yelp.
His grin is wicked. “You attacked me unprovoked. I’m just defending myself.”
“Partially provoked,” you say, licking at your lips. “You threatened buttercream.”
Fox cups the back of your head and pulls you in for a kiss. He runs his tongue over your chocolate covered bottom lip and deepens the kiss when you open for him, leaving you both breathless.
“Tease,” you gasp when he pulls back.
“Don’t tell anyone,” Fox says, running his thumb over your lips. “I have a reputation to uphold.”
Warnings: talk of medical condition, discussion of planned obsolescence of the clones, brief mention of clone cadet deaths, mention of blood (nightmare, not graphic), mention of dead bodies (nightmare, not graphic)
**********
Fox sat up, gasping for breath, skin slick with sweat. His heart was beating so fast behind his ribs it physically hurt.
He’d been having another nightmare. He’d been running through the halls of the Jedi Temple, checking bodies. Despite the blue paint on the armor, each time he removed a vod’s helmet he was met with familiar faces.
General Windu. General Kenobi. General Vos. General Secura and Unduli and Mundi and Yoda.
Fox had turn to flee the horror, only to find himself confronted by a tall figure in black armor.
“Why did your troops fire on me, commander?” the deep, modulated voice demanded.
“I’m sorry, Lord Vader,” Fox said. He tried to retreat, but slipped in a puddle of blood and crashed to the floor. “Forgive—”
The sound of his own neck snapping had been what awakened Fox.
“Ka’ra,” Fox muttered, still trying to catch his breath.
His heart gave a particularly painful thud. He rose and staggered to the kitchen where he grabbed a glass and guzzled some water. His heart finally started to slow, and his breathing evened out.
Fox splashed some water on his face before returning to his bed. His heart gave another aggravated throb and Fox rubbed at the center of his chest. He’d had heart palpitations before, most notably during the Zillo Beast incident and the bombing of the power plant on Coruscant. The Guard CMO had checked him out and advised him to reduce his stress levels and caf intake.
Fox had scoffed and gone back to his office to dive back into the never-ending flimsiwork piled on his desk.
I’ll make an appointment with Gilamar if the palpations keep up, Fox thought to himself.
Then he rolled over and tried to go back to sleep for the rest of the night.
/././././
Fox’s foot tapped nervously as he watched his next group of cadets step onto the training field. This was the first time they were doing live fire drills after the unmitigated disaster that had been the first round of drills a week ago.
Fox had lost five cadets. Their deaths weighed on him in a way few things had since he’d lost Thorn in his original timeline. He watched the readouts on the control panel carefully, hyper-alert for any fluctuations that might indicate the simulation was malfunctioning again.
As the sim began, Fox’s heart stuttered in his chest and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath for a couple of seconds. He gripped the back of the Kaminoan tech’s chair and pounded a fist against his chest. The tech looked down at him and blinked slowly.
Fox glared at the Kaminoan. “Pay attention to the sim,” he snapped, still a little breathless.
The man blinked at Fox again, then turned back to the control board.
Fox’s heart behaved through the rest of the sims. All of his cadets made it through. Those that sustained injuries bore only minor wounds. Fox retreated to a fresher and locked himself in one of the stalls to work through the shakes that gripped him before he headed off to congratulate his boys.
/././././
Fox was running, his cadets strung out ahead of him in the stinging rain. Waves crashed into the support pillars below them, making the platforms and walkways shudder. It’s only a mild storm, by Kamino standards, but it’s still a beast to run through.
Another trainer might have watched the cadets from the safety and warmth of the city dome, or taken the chance to get some caf while the boys ran. Fox wasn’t like the other trainers. He picked up his pace, running up the line.
“Looking good cadets,” he called.
Several of the boys grinned at him as he passed.
“Pick up your feet, Whisk.”
“Yes, Sarge.”
“Aran, stop trying to trip 5662.”
“Sorry, Sarge.”
Fox reached out and grabbed Data’s arm as the cadet skidded on a puddle, sliding dangerously close to the edge of the walkway. Fox’s heart raced at the thought of losing a cadet over the edge. Why hadn’t the damned kaminiise put up safety rails?
“Thanks, Sarge,” Data said, his face pale.
Fox nodded. “Eyes up, cadet.”
“Yes, sir.”
Fox’s heart continued to thunder, and his breath wheezed between his lips.
“Sarge?” Data gave him a worried look.
“I’m fine, kid. Keep up your pace.”
Fox slowed, hoping that would let him catch his breath. His heart gave a painful thud, then another, then began fluttering arrhythmically. He stopped, hands braced on his knees as he gasped for air. Fox felt dizzy and thought he might be sick.
“Sarge!” several voices rang out.
Fox staggered and fell to his knees as his vision went gray. His chest heaved as he fought to breathe. Little gods, he couldn’t die now. His brothers still needed him.
The cold durasteel of the walkway met Fox’s cheek as he slumped over onto his side. The last thing he heard was his boys calling his name.
/././././
“Finally back with us?” a familiar voice inquired.
Fox cracked his eyes open, looking around the little private medical room. “How—” He coughed and swallowed against the dryness in his throat. “How long was I out?”
“Two days,” Mij said.
Fox pushed the covers back, trying to sit up. Mij put a hand on his chest and to Fox’s irritation, he couldn’t seem to find the strength the push the other man away.
“My cadets,” Fox gasped.
“They’re being looked after.” The al’baar’ur fixed Fox with a steely look. “You suffered a bought of tachycardia. Your heart was beating too fast and couldn’t supply your body with oxygen. How long as this been going on?”
Fox winced. “A couple of weeks. Maybe three. I meant to come in for a checkup.”
“You really should have.” Mij folded his arms over his chest. “What I want to know is, why does your heart look like it belongs to an eighty-year-old,” Mij said.
Fox grinned wanly. “My last job was very high stress.” He started laughing.
“It’s not funny, Naasade,” Mij bit out. “We could have lost you!”
“Sorry, doc,” Fox said, hiccupping between chuckles. “I know it’s not funny, but if I don’t laugh—” His breath hitched and the burning in his eyes began to pool wetly in the corners, tracing hot, wet lines down to his temples. “I’m gonna lose my shit. Just . . . give me a second.”
Fox pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and took several shuddering breaths. When he felt more in control, he relaxed his arms to his sides and tried to focus on Mij through the spots that pressing too hard on his eyes had left in his vision.
Mij was frowning at him.
“This was the plan all along,” Fox said. “Couldn’t have millions of men just hanging around after the war. They meant for us to die as fast as possible.”
“Who meant for you to die?” Mij asked.
“The kaminiise. The Sith. Everyone. No one ever really wanted us.”
Except maybe the Jedi, the thought came unbidden.
Mij’s frown deepened. “What are you talking about, verd’ika? You told me you were a Spaarti clone. That there were only a handful of you, commissioned by the Hutts. What do the kaminiise and the darjetiise have to do with that?”
“It’s a long story,” Fox said.
He sank back against the pillow and closed his eyes. He was exhausted.
“You’re not going anywhere until you get a heart transplant,” Mij said. “I’ve already got a new one growing. So we’ve got the time. Why don’t you start from the beginning? And no lies this time.”
**********
Mando'a:
Vod - brother
Ka'ra - stars; ancient Mandalorian myth (ruling council of fallen kings); used as a curse in the vein of 'little gods'
Kaminiise - Kaminoans
Al’baar’ur - doctor
Verd’ika - little warrior
Darjetiise - Sith (plural)
Cool bacta smeared over the acid burns around his eyes. Wraith flinched back, hissing.
“Udesiir, vod,” Dune soothed.
Dune worked steadily, gently wiping the mixture of acid and neutralizing agent off his skin, then applying the bacta. Wraith clenched his fists, trying not to move. His whole face ached.
“Sorry,” Dune said, his voice tight.
Wraith knew his ARC brother was blaming himself. Dune had scouted the location after all. Had declared it safe for them to go in. Dune was good at taking blame. But it had been Wraith’s choice to push him out of the way.
“Ka’ra, I’m sorry, Wraith.” He rested his forehead against his Wraith’s. “Ni ceta.”
Wraith lifted his hand and felt his way to the back of Wraith’s neck, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m not dying, Dune’ika.”
“Your eyes—” Dune’s voice choked off.
“They might be fine,” Wraith said. “I think I turned away in time.”
“And if you didn’t? What if you’re blind?”
“Dune.” Wraith tapped his forehead against Dune’s a little harder than necessary, hoping to break him out of his spiral. “Udesiir, vod’ika.”
Dune chuckled wetly at having his words turned back on him, and tapped his forehead against Wraith’s in return.
“I’m almost done,” Dune said, sniffling and pulling back.
Wraith jerked back as the cloth touched his eyelids. “Ugh, sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Dune finished his ministrations, then wrapped some gauze around Wraith’s head. “Keep your eyes closed. As soon as we get back to Kamino, we’ll get the medics to look at you.”
Wraith nodded and lay back on the bed. After a minute, Dune put the medical supplies away, and shuffled out of the room. The ship they’d been assigned for the mission was small with no medbay, so Wraith’s treatment had taken place in the bunkroom. He was grateful he didn’t have to sit up for the rest of the flight. The pain was starting to make him nauseous.
Despite his reassurance to Dune earlier, Wraith worried. It felt like his eyes were still burning. To be fair, it felt like his whole face was still burning. He figured he’d have scars. He only hoped the medics could save his eyes.
With General Shaak Ti on Kamino, the kaminiise weren’t decommissioning troopers like they once had. But what good was a blind trooper. He wouldn’t even make a good maintenance worker.
Fighting back a wave of rising panic, Wraith tried to settle in to rest. Gingerly, he touched the bacta patch Dune had put over the burns on his cheek. He flinched again and the whole side of his face started throbbing.
“Fek and all,” Wraith muttered to himself.
**********
Mando’a:
Udesiir - relax, take it easy
Ka’ra - stars; ancient Mandalorian myth (ruling council of fallen kings); used as a curse in the vein of ‘little gods’
Ni ceta - sorry (lit: I kneel) groveling apology - rare
Kaminiise - Kaminoans
Summary: Dune’s first day of ARC training isn’t going well.
Words: 901
Warnings: mention of being buried alive, slight disassociation (I think), grief
**********
Dune knew how to take a hit.
He’d been training all of his life for battle. In the early days, that had meant getting hit. A lot.
He gotten better at avoiding the blows.
At hitting back.
His batchmates, Aftermath and Bix, made it easy, with their snarky comments and dramatic attitudes. Giv always gave as good as he got. Sync was eely and hard to pin down.
Nogi, the youngest of their batch, was harder to punch, even in training. But Dune didn’t want his youngest vod to be at a disadvantage in a fight, so he tried not to hold back.
Links and Burner made sure they all performed to expected standards, or above. And Softshell, with Omen occasionally assisting, saw to their abrasions and bruises, so they wouldn’t have to go to medical unless absolutely necessary.
After he lost his batchmates in the desert, Dune avoided all touch outside training and combat. He wouldn’t allow himself to get close to anyone again. A few unsubtle dodges in the mess hall or bunkroom, and the other members of Grek Squad learned to leave him alone.
Then Captain Stonewall recommended him for ARC training.
The hangar on Kamino was still in a shambles from the aqua droids’ attack. The pristine hallways were marred by carbon scoring and the medbays filled with recovering troopers. It helped him not get caught up in the memories of a time when he’d had his batch brothers around him still.
After dropping their carryalls off in the ARC barracks, the trainees waited for Alpha-17 in the training room. They shook hands or clasped forearms as they introduced themselves. Some roughhoused or traded friendly punches.
Dune kept his arms folded over his chest and watched the others.
A trooper with a 5 tattooed on his temple invited Dune to join him and another trooper in conversation. Dune just stared until they left him alone. Then Alpha-17 arrived and worked them until they collapsed, literally.
After showers and dinner, Dune followed the others to the barracks where he picked up a datapad with the reading for the class work part of ARC training. He looked around the room, realizing that he hadn’t been given a bunk assignment.
That didn’t seem to stop the others. They claimed bunks randomly, scuffling when one trooper picked a bunk another had wanted.
Someone threw their arm around Dune’s neck. “Hey, vod, wanna be bunkmates?”
Dune’s ‘pad clattered to the floor as he spun out of the hold, grabbed the trooper’s wrist, and put him in a joint lock.
“Owe! Kriff, I was just asking,” the trooper, Dune thought his name was Holdout, said.
Dune released him and reached for his datapad.
“Sheb’palon,” Holdout muttered, walking away.
Dune strode past the others, to the farthest bunk in the room, and threw himself onto the bottom bed.
You didn’t have to be that mean, he could imagine Giv saying.
Dune envisioned his dead batchmates circling around the bunk. Links and Giv leaning against the frame near Dune’s head. Aftermath sitting where he could poke at Dune’s bare feet. Nogi would have crawled onto the bed settled in at his side. Dune could almost feel the weight of his brother next to him.
Don’t be so sad, Dune’ika, Softshell would have said, stroking his hair away from his face.
“I’m not sad,” Dune growled soft enough that no one else would hear him.
He turned his back on his ghosts and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep.
/././././
Sometime after lights out, Dune woke. He was shaking and his heart galloped in his chest like a wild fathier. All around him, the soft breathing and snores of the other trainees filled the air. He relaxed back against the hard mattress, letting out a long breath.
He’d dreamed he was trapped in the sand again. His brothers’ bodies crushing him. Making it impossible to breathe. Dune scooted toward the edge of the bed where he could see the ceiling. He wasn’t buried. There was plenty of air.
A head popped over the edge of the upper bunk. Dune barely stifled a surprised yell.
“That was quite the nightmare you were having,” the trooper whispered. “Thought you were going to shake the bunk apart.”
Dune felt his cheeks heat up. “Leave me alone.”
The other trooped gripped the edge of the bunk and leaned forward, sliding off his bed and lowering himself down in a controlled motion to stand next to Dune’s bunk. Dune didn’t know how the other man did it. His own muscles were still jelly from Alpha-17’s “assessment”.
“Name’s Wraith,” the trooper said. He nudged Dune until he grudgingly moved to the center of the mattress, then sank down next to him. “You wanna talk?”
“No,” Dune said, turning his back to Wraith.
Wraith sat where he was for so long, Dune wondered if he’d fallen asleep. He was about to roll over and shove Wraith off the bed, when the other trooper moved. A warm hand rested on Dune’s back.
“If you ever want to talk, or just want some company, I’m here.”
Then Wraith slid off the bed and climbed back up onto his bunk.
Dune lay there, blinking back hot tears. That hand—the same size and shape as nine others he’d never feel again—was the first he hadn’t wanted to immediately shrug off in a long time.
