Do you think Plo Koon's mask also has a translator inside it which makes his language understandable in basic?
Because being rather reptilian/insectoid in appearance, I assume that their main method of communication is probably screeching and clicks, rumbles and vibrations.
Also because:
Plo: ... and once Wolffe, Sinker and I give the signal, we will... *mask crackles, unintelligible screeching noises*
*Plo stops talking, adjusts his mask and tries again*
Plo: *more screeching*
Shinies: *horrified whimpering*
Plo: *sad eyes at Wolffe*
Wolffe: *rolls eyes* The General is having translation issues. What he said was 'once we give to signal, you are to advance and rendezvous with us at the marked co-ordinates'. Understood?
Plo: *gentle clicking noises*
Wolffe: And... *sighs* he says he's proud of us.
Everyone else: *stunned silence*
Plo: *soft screech*
Wolffe: *glaring at him* Really, General? Do I have... Ugh, fine. And the General says he... loves us... *blushes furiously*
Alpha-17 went personally to the 104th and met Plo Koon just so he could determine whether not he was okay with him being a father figure to Wolffe. Plo completely understood why he was there, despite being told that it was for an “inspection for the new 104th battalion,” he played along anyway. But he also made sure to be extra extra nice to Wolffe that day and kept on placing a hand in his shoulder and smiling at him. Seventeen was confused and a little scared because he thought that Jedi were supposed to be detached from people and not so openly loving.
In the end he determines that Plo is a good father figure as long as seventeen gets Wolffe on the weekends
Hello there! In Star Wars Revenge of The Sith, Jedi Master Plo Koon gets executed by Order 66, but how will Commander Wolffe and the 104th Clones react to this shocking revelation? Find out, now!
Post what you're working on and tag as many people as words in your last line (and a smidge more cause I'm not that mean).
Fox didn’t know whether to curse Thire or welcome General Plo, so he took the middle (antagonistic) ground. “Interesting. He’s not said much about you.” That was a lie. His brother couldn’t shut up about his jedi. Wolffe practically worshiped the man.
Thanks @rex-meshla for tagging me.
I apologize in advance to everyone that keeps being tagged by me in these things. (we got one more to go 😂)
NPT @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @aknightreaderr @kimiheartblade @lonewolflupe @ladysongmaster and anyone else that wants to join the madness
It's Dogma's first mission with the Wolfpack, but things don't quite go as planned. Meanwhile, Wolffe starts to learn more about the Wolfpack's newest member. Double-length chapter because I have zero restraint!
Ch. 6: Landfall
“You know, I still can’t believe Comet outranks us. It was just the other day that he was a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed shiny.” Boost commented over late-meal, looking nostalgic.
Rolling his eyes, Comet replied. “I’ll show you bushy-tailed— Besides, if you really cared, you would’ve completed the extra training modules and gotten your own Corporal rank.” He ended with a smug grin.
“Come on, I practically wrote the training module, with all the experience I’ve had!” Boost exclaimed, earning an exasperated chuckle from Sinker, who was also outranked by Comet, but perfectly happy to avoid the flimsiwork that came with a higher rank.
“Yeah, we get it. You’re old.” Comet teased.
Turning to Dogma, Boost pleaded, “Pup! You think I’d make a good corporal, right vod’ika? Maybe even better than Comet here?” Boost’s smile was audible in his voice, and even Comet couldn’t keep the false-offended look on his face; they’d had this same argument before.
“Well, uh—“ Dogma choked on his food a little, trapped between a rock and a hard place. “My old commanding officer used to say that experience outranks everything…” he paused as Boost crowed in victory. “But— uh, Comet has more experience… with being a Corporal, so…” He trailed off with a small smile, watching the chaos ensue. Now it was Comet’s turn to gloat while Boost grumbled in defeat.
Meanwhile, from the end of the table, Wolffe observed the exchange with an analytical look in his eye. He’d heard that phrase before— said it, even— to a skinny, blond-haired cadet who acted quite a bit like Pup sometimes. At least, when he forgot about that careful distance he’d cultivated between himself and others. That desperate drive to achieve, to be perfectly in line with the rules, or else— it’d taken Rex a while to kick that mentality, but he was a better Captain for it…
They still had more questions than answers, when it came to Pup’s background. But personally, Wolffe was more invested in who the kid would become than who he used to be. If not for the nightmares and obvious trauma, he’d leave it be, but wounds like that were prone to fester if left untouched. Thankfully, Wolffe knew how to be patient, and he’d wait as long as he needed to if it meant gaining the kid’s trust.
“Ready for dust-off in 3-2-1!” Warthog called through the comms as the gunship lifted off, piloting skillfully out of the hangar.
It was Dogma’s first real rescue mission with the 104th; they’d had a few supply runs since he joined, but nothing huge. It was also his first time doing a mission with the Wolfpack, and he checked and rechecked his gear to calm his pre-battle jitters. He’d been given a spare set of thermal gear– apparently this planet was a cold one— and he wished he was more familiar with the modified HUD setup.
“Nervous, Pup?” Comet asked, giving an encouraging smile.
“A little…” Dogma admitted with a shrug. It wasn’t like the 501st, where an entire legion of troopers worked together on a large objective. Rescue missions involved a small, highly skilled, well-coordinated team. And Dogma felt good about his performance in their training drills, but…
“Hey, what’s the first rule of rescue?” Comet nudged him, distracting Dogma from his thoughts.
“Don’t let yourself become a victim.” Dogma recited verbatim.
“See, you got this! Just stick with us and you’ll do great, vod!” Comet grinned before turning to Patch, who was clutching the hand-grips with both hands, making Dogma nostalgic for Tup when he noticed. “How are you doing, Patch?”
“So far, so good, kid. I’m just glad–” He swore as the ship rocked slightly before regaining his composure. “-- glad it’s a short flight; Kriff!” Patch would never be a fan of flying, but he’d already made a lot of progress with his aviophobia since rejoining the 104th after his hiatus.
Comet chuckled sympathetically, patting the medic on the back. “I get that. Personally, I wish this flight could be a little longer, but the enemy’s air support means we’re better off going on-foot.” He shivered in anticipation of the icy cold. “Why can’t we have a mission on a nice, tropical planet for once?”
“Spend a year on Coruscant like I did, and maybe you’ll appreciate the fresh air more. I’m just happy to stretch my legs somewhere other than The Protector.” Patch said, letting out a sigh of relief as the gunship came to a smooth landing.
__________________________
They’d been walking for long enough that Dogma’s feet were starting to get cold even inside his snow gear, before they saw the first signs of enemy contact. A battle-droid, half-buried in snow and thankfully deactivated, but it made Dogma wish for better cover than the sparse trees dotting the horizon.
The planet was admittedly beautiful, unlike any Dogma had ever seen. Snow-covered cliffs and mountains, even a few white herbivorous creatures. They’d been warned about large predators, but thankfully most of those were nocturnal.
“Boost, see if you can get any data from this droid. The sooner we can find our objective, the better.” Wolffe ordered.
Some senator’s aid had gotten caught on the wrong side of Separatist lines, so the Wolfpack had been assigned to find the wreckage of their ship and check for survivors. For once, the odds were pretty good, since their transponder was still working, but that only put them within a three kilometer radius, so they had a lot of searching left to do.
“Yessir,” Boost responded, pulling out his datapad and getting to work. “Should be able to boost the signal in just a tic.” He glanced up at them with an amused tilt to his helmet. “Get it, Boost?”
Sinker groaned, slapping his arm, which earned a chuckle from Fixer, even as he kept a weather eye on their surroundings.
“Focus. Remember, the snow deposits on these mountains are unstable. Don’t want to cause an avalanche.” Wolffe cautioned, earning a nod and a grimace from Patch and Fixer. They’d seen what an avalanche could do before, and Patch, for one, had no desire for a repeat experience.
Thankfully, they only had to wait another minute or so before Boost let out a noise of success. “Got it. The droid’s memory banks had a note about some debris on the other side of that ridge, about four clicks south. They had it marked as non-essential, though, so the senator’s aide should still be safe.”
“Good, let’s head out.” Wolffe nodded, letting Boost take the lead as they continued up the side of the mountain.
Making their way across the terrain, the Wolfpack made surprisingly good time despite the snow pulling at their legs. Another gust of wind blew small flurries of snow around them, and Dogma smiled a little under his helmet. It was almost… peaceful up here, away from the noise and chaos of shipboard life.
Taking in the scenery, Dogma almost missed a glint of durasteel peeking around the next crevice.
“Droids!” He alerted the others– they weren’t in a good spot, not for this. The edge of the cliff they’d been walking along was much closer than he’d like, limiting their maneuverability, and they were still far from reaching the top of the ridge.
Barely managing to duck behind the nearby rocks, the Wolfpack returned fire. Dogma gunned down two droids from his position, a little closer to the ledge than he’d like, and the others managed to snag a few more before they finally adapted and took cover.
Trading blaster fire back and forth, neither side seemed to make progress— at least, until a metallic sphere careened through the air, landing between Wolffe and Dogma.
“Grenade!!!” The Commander yelled, not even pausing as he swept the grenade off the side of the ledge moments before it went off. Dogma staggered as the concussive blast rang around him, but Wolffe was quick to pull him away from the ledge.
Taking advantage of the droids’ distraction, the rest of the Wolfpack surged forward, running around the next overhang and taking down the last few clankers.
At first, Dogma thought the rumbling he heard was from the beating of his heart, but it kept getting louder, and just as he looked up, he heard Commander Wolffe shout, “Avalanche!!!” before the world turned white.
_________________________
The first thing Wolffe became aware of was a sharp pain on the back of his head. Next, the disconcerting loss of half his visual field, while the rest was a blurry, disorienting white.
“ –olffe! Commander! Can you hear me?” Pup , his brain offered. The kid was half-obscured by the cloud of snow around them, and he tried to piece together what had happened.
Right. The cliff. The avalanche.
Wolffe groaned in pain. That definitely felt like a concussion— he’d had enough to know. And it looked like it had shaken something loose in his prosthetic eye, which was less common but still easily fixable… back on The Protector. Until then, he’d just have to—
“Commander Wolffe!” Pup asked again, and Wolffe jerked upward a little, realizing he’d spaced out.
“M’awake, kid. You okay?” He asked.
“Yessir. Just bruises, and some of my kit is gone. I can try to find it, but—“
He shook his head, fighting against a wave of nausea as he tried to sit up. “S probably buried in the snow. W-We should—“ He broke off with a groan as the world spun.
“Commander!” Pup’s voice was sharp with worry. “You should stay down, sir. Visibility’s still pretty bad, with the avalanche, but we’re not in immediate danger. I’m going to see if I can comm Patch. Do you still have your communicator?” He asked, gesturing to his own bare forearm; his gauntlet was likely covered in snow.
Wolffe grunted an affirmative, taking deep, slow breaths. It wasn’t the worst concussion he’d ever had, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed them.
Now that he was listening for it, he could hear his comlink beeping as Pup borrowed it. “Wolffe! Pup! Please respond! Are you alright down there!”
“We’re here, Comet. Is Patch there? Wolffe’s got a head injury, and I don’t know how bad it is…”
Wolffe admittedly spaced out for most of the conversation, but Patch talked Pup through an exam, although it got interesting when they couldn’t compare his pupils for dilation because… well. It also helped that he’d managed to keep a hold on the spare med-scanner in his kit, although the pack containing an emergency blanket and some extra rations was now buried in ten feet of snow.
Once it was determined that neither of them were bleeding internally, Pup helped Wolffe into an unsteady standing position. Leaning heavily on him for support, the two managed to make their way to a nearby alcove that led to a, thankfully empty, cave.
“We’ll try and circle back to you as soon as we can, sir, but there’s not a safe way down from here. Maybe with our grappling hooks, but I wouldn’t trust this terrain after what just happened.” Comet sounded torn but resolute, knowing what had to happen. If the General was with them, he could use the force to reach them safely, but he’d landed closer to the objective than they had.
So Wolffe pulled himself up mentally and hoped he didn’t stumble over his words. “We’ll be alright, Comet. You’ve got point until you rendezvous with the General. Pup’s got my six.” He said, giving Pup a small nod.
“Copy that, Commander. K’oyacyi. We’ll see you soon.” Comet said, and then they were left in silence, aside from the whistling of the wind.
Wolffe groaned, finally allowing himself to lean against the wall for support, closing his eyes for just a moment.
“S-Sir, do you mean that?” Pup asked uncertainly, interrupting Wolffe’s rest.
Concussed and only half-conscious, Wolffe opened a bleary eye to give Pup what little encouragement he could. “ ‘f course. I trust you, vod’ika… —you’ve got this.”
With his prosthetic eye out of commission, he knew his depth perception was shot, even without the concussion, but he’d seen the kid’s range scores. And even though it put him on edge to be injured and vulnerable in enemy territory, he trusted Pup to watch his six.
Reaching out with an unsteady hand, he gave Pup’s arm a squeeze, even as the kid shot him a bewildered look. “B-But I– you can’t just trust–!”
Pup swallowed, taking a breath, and Wolffe mourned the fact that Pup was so surprised, so thrown off by a brother’s trust. “I-I haven’t… you don’t even know my name…”
Wolffe shook his head– at least until it throbbed in pain, and he winced, slurring his words a little. “Don’t need to… ‘s the job of a C’mmander to know his men… know what they’re capable of... You can do this, Pup.”
Pup’s eyes widened, something unreadable in his expression before he set his shoulders with resolve. He hesitated for a long moment before finally speaking again.
“It’s Dogma.”
It took Wolffe’s tired brain a while to catch up. “What?”
“M-My name… it’s Dogma.” Wolffe couldn’t tell if the kid was shaking from cold or from nerves, but the spark in his eyes was almost challenging in nature.
There you are, kid ’ He thought to himself, proud. If Wolffe were any less coherent, he might be in tears at Pup’s— at Dogma’s trust.
But instead, he gripped Dogma’s arm tightly and gave him a nod of acknowledgment. “Good t’ meet you, Dogma.”
Dogma let out a small huff, giving him the smallest of smiles before his shoulders shook with what was undoubtedly a shiver.
Wolffe squinted up at him, confused. “Cold? …Should-Shouldn’t be cold, kid…”
Their snow gear was rated for sub-zero temps, with their built-in heating systems. Wolffe himself felt almost comfortable, despite taking off his helmet to bandage his head wound.
“It’s fine, sir.” Dogma tried to reassure him, tensing to avoid shivering again.
Commander Wolffe gave him a look , which had him caving in record time. “It’s just… the temp controls on my gear took a hit when we fell off the cliff. Didn’t notice until just before you woke up.”
Wolffe winced, hissing between his teeth. “ ‘s not good…”
“I-I’ll be alright, sir. We’ve got another hour, at most before the others can come looking for us. I-I’m fine.” Dogma tried again to reassure him… and as much as Wolffe hated to admit it, he was right.
They’d already taken shelter, and outside of an emergency evac, which would risk more lives than it’d save, there really wasn’t much more to do but wait. Although…
“C’mere, Dogma.” He said, gesturing clumsily for Dogma to sit next to him. He might be as good as deadweight right now, but he could at least help keep the kid warm until help came.
Wrapping an arm around Dogma’s middle (still leaving his shooting arm free), Wolffe could feel himself starting to fade again. He tried to fight it, but Dogma noticed him struggling. “It’s okay, Commander. I’ve got the watch.”
Blearily, Wolffe nodded, settling against Dogma’s side, trusting him to have his back as the world began to dim.
___________________________
Dogma sighed to himself, trying to ignore the way his teeth were chattering. At least the Commander offered a little additional warmth, and it helped that they were out of the wind, but he hoped the others would be there soon.
It had been nearly an hour since Commander Wolffe had passed out again, and as much as he enjoyed the scenery, he couldn’t wait to be somewhere safe and warm. Even now, he had to fight back a wave of exhaustion— the growing darkness certainly didn’t help matters— but he forced his eyes to stay open, keeping watch on their surroundings. The Commander was counting on him.
That, and… Patch would probably kill him if he fell asleep with what was very likely turning into hypothermia. Dogma was no medic, but even he knew that that was a bad idea.
Dogma flinched, pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of falling rocks outside. He untangled himself from Wolffe, hoping it was the others.
Halfway out of the opening of the cave, Dogma ducked behind cover once again when, instead of the Pack, he saw gleaming eyes, sharp tusks, and plated armor.
He could only hope he hadn’t been spotted, but as the creature scented the air, Dogma knew that wish was too good to be true. Sinker had warned him this planet had some pretty nasty predators.
As the creature turned to face the cave entrance with a growl, Dogma squared his shoulders, taking a few shots at its torso before leaping out of the way when it charged.
He stood up frantically, shooting again, but its armored plating didn’t even burn, and stun bolts only seemed to make it angry.
Desperately, he skirted it again, hoping to keep it from noticing Wolffe, still unconscious in the alcove behind him.
Even while he managed to dodge it, he could feel himself struggling, so when he heard a snap-hiss behind him, he was sure it was the end, except—
“Get behind me, trooper!” General Plo called, rushing to his defense.
Dogma had never been so happy to see a lightsaber in his life.
The predator growled sharply, wary of the new threat, but then the General held out his hand, almost looking like his eyes were closed under his mask. And finally, the creature started to slowly back away, disappearing into the darkness.
Dogma let out the breath he’d been holding, shuddering in relief as well as cold. “G-Good to see you, sir.”
It looked like the General had run ahead of the others, but if luck had it, they shouldn’t be too far behind. General Plo had pretty good timing.
So relieved that the threat was gone, Dogma didn’t realize he was spacing out until something warm was draped around his shoulders. He flinched slightly before curling into it almost desperately, his increasingly foggy brain recognizing it as the General’s cloak. “T-thank you, sir.”
Now that the threat was gone, his shivering returned stronger than ever as he led the General back towards the cave where Wolffe was still resting.
“You are most welcome. Rest now. I will alert you when the others arrive.” General Plo rumbled quietly, and Dogma felt a peaceful warmth envelop him as he finally allowed himself to drift off.
They were safe.
_____________________________
Sneezing harshly, Dogma sighed in exhaustion before laying back down with a groan.
After his and Wolffe’s rescue, Dogma’s mild hypothermia had morphed into a pretty decent cold. Clones had strong enough immune systems to kick most bugs, but the hypothermia combined with his admittedly poor sleeping and eating habits had apparently been just enough to tip the scales. Wolffe was still in medbay, but he’d be released to join Dogma in the barracks in a couple hours.
Patch had been less than happy, once they’d been carted off to medbay and he’d finally gotten a baseline scan of Dogma. Something told Dogma he’d be in for a lot of meal-bars and supplements in the future.
But for now, his biggest issue was trying to stay warm. He shivered against the ever-present chill, wrapping his blanket more tightly around him, trying to feel a little less miserable.
“You doing okay there, Pup?” Comet asked, concerned. The other trooper had insisted on swapping bunks once he’d had been released from medbay so they could keep a better eye on him, and Dogma had been too tired to refuse.
“Yeah, j-just cold.” Nearly 24 hours later, he still couldn’t shake the chills. Patch had said he actually had a low-grade fever now, but Dogma was reluctant to believe him. Another round of coughs shook his frame, disturbing his small mound of blankets, and he groaned in misery.
Comet shook his head fondly before helping him rearrange the blankets once more. Dogma fidgeted, feeling awkward but also oddly reassured by the rest of the Wolfpack’s coddling.
“I swear, Pup, you’ve got the worst luck of any vod I know.”
Taking a slow breath, Dogma battled against the nerves in his chest before coming to a decision. “Dogma.” He corrected quietly.
Comet looked up in surprise, the grin on his face growing by the second as he realized exactly what Dogma was saying. “Yeah?”
A small smile made its way to Dogma’s face and he nodded. “Yeah.”
Suddenly, Dogma found himself being near-tackle-hugged with enthusiasm with Comet rambling excitedly about how proud he was, and how good of a name it was, and—
“What have we here?” Boost questioned curiously as he entered the room, along with Sinker and Patch.
Glancing back at Dogma for permission first, getting a nod, Comet responded smugly, “Well, Dogma here was just telling me about—“
“You got your name, Pup?” Sinker’s grin threatened to split his face. Dogma nodded, eyes widening in surprise as Sinker leapt to join the growing pile on Comet-now-Dogma’s bunk. He gave Dogma an enthusiastic slap on the back, earning a couple coughs.
“Eh, sorry kid.” He grinned sheepishly, before wrapping him in a hug. “I’m just so happy for you, vod’ika!”
“Wait—“ Booster said from his perch nearby. “Does this mean we’ve been calling a vod named Dog -ma— Pup , this whole time?! And you didn’t even tell us?”
Dogma shrugged sheepishly before nodding, then speaking hesitantly. “… Pup’s still okay, if you want. It’s… nice.”
Shaking his head in faux seriousness, Boost joined in the excitement, bringing one hand up to knuckle Dogma’s head. “Nope! I’m calling you by your name so many times you get sick of it, kid!” And then proceeded to do just that, repeating his name proudly for all to hear.
Dogma laughed, a real, heartfelt laugh— at least until it was ruined by another cough, summoning Patch. The medic had been patiently waiting his turn and sat next to Dogma once Boost and Sinker moved to make room for him. “Dogma, huh? Suits you, kid.” He stated warmly.
Dogma nodded, a small smile still on his face as Patch squeezed his shoulder, looking proud. Finally, Patch sighed, getting out his scanner. He had come here for a reason, after all.
“Not to ruin the moment, but I’d like to get another scan on you, Dogma, if that’s okay.” He smiled, happy to be trusted with the kid’s name.
Nodding reluctantly, Dogma fidgeted slightly as the scanner did its job. He sniffled, feeling his symptoms a little more now that the distraction was gone.
“Hmm… still got a bit of a fever, but that’s to be expected. How’s your headache?”
“It’s better than it was.” Dogma responded hoarsely before covering another round of coughs.
Patch pursed his lips, getting out an old-fashioned stethoscope. “Can you take a couple deep breaths for me, kid? I don’t like the sound of that cough.”
Dogma nodded tiredly, breathing as directed, although his breath caught again on the last one, prompting another small cough.
“Should be alright, but we’ll have to keep an eye on it, yeah?” Patch finally said, reaching into his pack for a few hypos.
“Y-yeah.” Dogma stuttered, a bleary look in his eye before he inhaled sharply, letting out an exhausted-sounding sneeze. This cold was really starting to take it out on him.
“K’oyacyi, kid.” Patch blessed him, giving him a pat on the back. “You should try and get some more rest, Dogma.”
Dogma nodded again, muffling a yawn. He raised an eyebrow when, rather than getting up, Comet hooked an arm around his shoulder, getting comfortable. Comet simply smirked, tucking him in, and Dogma was too tired to argue. Grateful to finally be warm, it wasn’t long before he slipped into a peaceful sleep.
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