Can you maybe write something about Commander Cody trapped on a planet with a bunch of younglings.
I should've answered this post like a year ago. It's been sitting unfinished in my drafts for ages haha.
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Cody was supposed to be a well respected trooper in the Grand Army of the Republic. Key phrase: supposed to be.
Now he seemed to be demoted to a babysitter.
“Commander?” A Twi’lek child asked, patting his plastoid covered thigh. “Commander? When can we go back to the Temple?”
Cody sighed, scrubbing his face. “Not for awhile yet, little one.”
He wasn’t supposed to be here. Kriff, he wasn’t even supposed to be off the ship! But nooo, General Skywalker had to shirk his duties and stick him with chaperone duty on a field trip full of younglings!
The Twi’lek kid poked her hand into the panel on the side of the ship where he was working. “What’s that?”
Cody grabbed her wrist before her fingers could make contact with the exposed wires. “Don’t touch that.”
She pouted, but stood and walked away, her brown robes swishing. However, another child, a human boy, quickly took her place.
“Sir?” He said. “Where’s Master Yoda?”
Cody grimaced. “I’m afraid he’s not here.”
The youngling cocked his head and reached into the panel just like the girl before him. “What’s that?”
“Reactor,” The clone commander replied shortly, batting the kid’s hand away and drawing a length of wire from his belt. “Here. Take this and go play.”
He tossed it to the child, who gave him an odd look but left anyway, winding it between his fingers.
Cody returned to his work, muttering a curse under his breath as he fiddled with the hot power cores. “This is droid work, how am I supposed to know how to do this?”
“Sir?” Another small voice said and unconsciously Cody winced. “Javier got hurt.”
“What?!” The clone’s head snapped up and he whirled to see a small Rodian boy holding his bloody knee, sitting on the concrete. He could tell that the boy was holding back tears as he rocked slowly, trying to stop the bleeding.
Immediately, Cody dashed to the ship and fished out the med kit, digging through it for a bacta patch and antiseptic wipes, swearing all the while.
“Okay,” He knelt down in front of the kid. “Okay. This is going to sting.”
The Rodian youngling’s eyes widened a bit and he shrank back and Cody kicked himself internally.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to channel the same gentleness he saw Obi Wan use with rescued children.
“It’ll be alright…” He said slowly. “You’re going to have to be brave for a bit, but I promise I’ll be quick and then you’ll feel much better. Can you be brave for me?”
The boy nodded, almost imperceptibly and Cody did his best to smile warmly. “Alright. Ready?”
Another nod and Cody carefully unwound his hands from around his knee to examine the damage. It wasn’t bad, just a playground injury, but bits of gravel from the pavement were stuck to the raw skin.
“Deep breath,” He instructed and when the kid inhaled the commander swiped the wipe over the scrape. To his credit, the youngling didn’t cry out, just scrunched up his face, and after two more passes, the wound was clean and Cody pressed the little bacta patch onto it.
“There,” Cody hummed. “That wasn’t so bad, was it ad’ika?”
The kid shook his head and giggled a little. “Thank you, sir.”
“No problem.” He pulled the small Rodian up to his feet. “Now go play with your friends while I try to get us back in the air.”
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