I Love These Two Characters. I Need To Trap Them In A Collapsed Building So They Can Talk About Their

Buzzcut -

Among the clone cadets, all the blondies have the same haircut.

In a collective of identical individuals who value their individuality as much as is feasibly possible, here's why -

When Boba is four years old, he doesn't quite understand why the clones are different from him. He knows they are, though. So he looks to the trainers to imitate how to behave, and he treats them kind of like toys. It's fun enough, for a kid with no one else to play with.

And one day he drags his newest playmate back to his rooms to show his father - "Look, he doesn't look right! Look at his hair! Isn't it funny?"

CT -7567 is a cadet who looks the same age as Boba, who has cowlick blonde curls over atop his tan face and his bright brown eyes and he stares up at Jango with wide, wide eyes as Jango stoops to look at him, swatting Boba's hand where it's dragging on the clones arm.

Jango remembers, for the first time in a long time, that his sister had hair like that. That she looked like that - round cheeked and brown eyed and bright haired.

He pats the boy on the head, ruffling his fingers through his locks, a little thinner than Boba's own thick brown. Than Jango's own.

The boy stands very still till Jango's had enough of running his fingers through the strands and stands back up, sending him on his way and ruffling Boba's hair when he pouts about it.

Jango decides not to think about it, after.

Four days later he enters the mess looking for that blonde hair, looking for any blonde hair, and he doesn't find it.

He does find CT-7567, half-hidden in the shadow of a template-perfect CC cadet who dares to fully turn around and face him when Jango focuses on his smaller companion.

That blond hair has been sheared practically down to the skin, those bright brown eyes big and wary of him.

CT-7567 doesn't remind him anymore of his sister.

Right, Jango thinks derisively. What was he thinking? It was nothing more than a defect in the process. the boy was nothing more than a product.

He leaves.

No blonde cadet ever grows their hair out, after that. Even back then the boys all knew - it was never a good thing to garner Jango Fett's attention.

Even after Prime dies, the tradition remains, one batch warning the next behind them to keep the blonde hidden.

The Truth Lies (In An Unmarked Grave)

On some days, Rex is certain the grief is going to kill him. There's only so much a person can take, and he reached that limit long ago-- reached it, then vaulted straight past it. Echo is alive, and that's fantastic, but... Fives isn't, and he's only the most recent on the long list of people Rex has failed to save. On some days, Rex is convinced that he's just walking wounded, that it's only a matter of time before his injuries catch up to him and put him in the ground.

That's... not what happens. Instead, Rex wakes up with Fives, and General Skywalker years in the past, back before Fives' death, before the Citadel, with their memories of the future intact. Instead, Rex finds himself caught between a rock and a hard place as he tries to save his family, with the constant threat of the Chancellor hanging over his shoulder.

(Ao3 Link)

Chapter 1

After working with The Bad Batch– after finding Echo and losing him again, after punching Crosshair and forcing himself to work with him anyway– Rex finds himself sitting on a log, staring at the bonfire in front of him.

The roaring fire illuminates the darkness of the night sky, and Rex can feel the heat from it on his face, warming up his knees. Despite that, his fingers feel cold around his beer bottle as he stares down the flames, a shade short of tipsy, not quite tipsy enough.

[[MORE]]

He feels… almost isolated, with the way the sky stretches out above him, vast and endless, twinkling stars bright against the darkness of the night. But he’s not alone– far from it, in fact– Jesse’s sitting on his right, and Kix is on Jesse’s right, and Ridge on Kix’s right, and Sterling on Ridge’s right, which brings him all around to being on Rex’s left.

They’re a lively bunch. It’s not quiet around the campfire– far from it, in fact. If Rex felt a little less detached, he knows he’d be right there with them, laughing and joking. But the events of the last few days, months, years, weigh on him, and it’s easier to let himself be mesmerized by the crackling flames than putting in the effort to be engrossed in conversation.

Jesse, however, is not one to be upstaged by a firepit. He leans forward, grins, waves his hand in front of Rex’s face. “Hey Cap,” he says, ignoring Kix’s facepalm. “How do you know if there’s a member of the Bad Batch at your party?”

Rex sighs, looks up at the sky. Prays for some sort of divine intervention.

No divine intervention arrives. Rex sighs, loudly. “How, Jesse?” he asks, half certain he already knows the answer.

“”They’ll tell you,” Jesse replies, and despite the fact that Rex had been expecting that exact answer, he still finds himself snorting at the accuracy of it. “Hey, how would the Bad Batch kill a space snake?”

Rex sighs again, louder this time. He definitely knows where this one is going. “How?”

“They make contact with it, ignore all Judicial Department directives and build a rapport with the snake, train it to kill other snakes, then return to Kamino to file a requisition of GAR resources form and take in the snake.”

Rex… shouldn’t ask. They’re all feeling weird after their last mission, every single Forcedamned clone is a raw nerve at the moment. He really shouldn’t ask.

Kriff it. He might as well ask. “Is the snake in this metaphor meant to be Echo?”

“Of course not sir, Echo was– is about as sneaky as a reg manual to the face.”

“Big words coming from you,” Kix chimes in, taking advantage of Jesse’s temporary distraction to steal his beer and finish it off.

“Kix, I’ll let you know that I’m an ARC trooper, actually,” Jesse defends. “I absolutely know how to be sneaky.”

“Well, since you’re a high and mighty ARC trooper, I guess that means that you’d just kill our metaphorical space snake by accident, and it would turn out that this metaphorical snake was sacred to the people there, and the natborns would then demand the removal of Republic forces from the planet.”

Rex chokes on his beer, coughs as Jesse sputters. Kriffing hell, someone decided to go for the throat today. “Oh, kark off,” is what Jesse eventually says in response, and Kix shrugs, looking all too smug with Jesse’s bottle in his hand.

After he finishes restoring the air to his lungs, Rex finds himself looking down at his hands, letting the conversation fade to a dull roar in the background. He looks down at his right hand, forms a fist with it, frowns. Unrolls his fingers one by one, flexes them once, then twice, then three times. The memory of punching Crosshair is all too present in his mind, as is the memory of liking it. Of wanting to do it again.

For all that he knows that he was made for killing, Rex has never thought of himself as an inherently violent person. But right now, there’s a part of him saying otherwise, a part of him that’s determinedly whispering what might even be the truth in the back of his mind.

He’s realized recently that he’s changing. And it’s because of the war, yes, but it’s also because of other things, and that… worries him. Scares him, almost, though he’ll never admit it out loud. Rex is a clone. He’s not made for change– the opposite, really. He’s been designed not to evolve past his programming.

But Crosshair had said that they should’ve left Echo behind, and Rex had seen red. For a second, all he’d been able to think about was Fives’ anguish at the Citadel, Fives’ grief in the aftermath, Fives’ rapidly cooling body in his arms, and–

Yeah, Rex had punched him. The shabuir had deserved it– deserved worse, an insidious voice inside him whispers.

(Rex at the beginning of the war never would’ve done that. Rex doesn’t know if his past self would even recognize the man he’s become now.)

Anyway, General Skywalker may not have liked that punch, but Kix and Jesse were on his side, and that was good enough for Rex. It had to be.

He glances down at his fist once more, sighs, and picks up his beer again, finishing it off. He probably should get started on those reports and finish filling out Echo’s transfer forms, so Rex opens his mouth to excuse himself when General Skywalker comes out of his tent, holding something strange and triangular, something that’s glowing red, and suddenly–

The world tips sideways.

Dimly, Rex hears alarmed shouts of his own name, feels the beer bottle slip from his hands, but all he can focus on is the nauseating roil of his own stomach, and the way that General Skywalker seems to have lost his balance too, and is clinging to a tree for support. Rex blinks, tries to focus, tries to marshal his thoughts into something coherent, then–

Nothing.

gelphie - modern au

so! i did a poll like a week or so ago and model glinda/photographer elphie won in terms of modern aus you'd want to see. idk if I'll make a full fic but figured i'd give y'all a taste of the idea:

///

“Hey, Pfannee.” Elphaba lifts a hand in a casual wave as she enters the room, nodding her head to some of the other staff as she makes her way over to the young man. He brightens when he sees her, tottering over happily with his arms full of clothes. 

Typical Pfannee. 

“Elphaba, hey girl! Cutting it a bit close, aren’t you?”

“I’ve got three minutes to spare, what do you mean?”

Pfannee laughs, awkwardly nudging his glasses back up his nose without dropping his load. Elphaba drifts further into the room, putting down her bag and sipping on her tea.

“So, I heard we’re working with someone new today,” she drawls. 

Beside her, Pfannee gasps. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

But Pfannee’s shocked expressions falls into something mischievous and he shakes his head. “Nope. Not going to ruin the surprise now. You’re going to die when you see her.”

Elphaba rolls her eyes. By the way he’s acting, this new model is likely someone famous. Or- famous to Pfannee at least. Elphaba doesn’t really keep up with anyone like that. Despite having chosen photography as her career, she tries to keep herself separate from the fashion industry at large. 

It’s incredibly toxic, and she’s seen what it can do to people. Case in point: 

“I can't believe I get to take her new measurements! Rumors say that she’s lost weight, and that means I’ll be the first to know her smallest size!” Pfannee grins like that’s a completely reasonable thing to say about an adult woman. 

Elphaba hides her frown behind another sip of tea. Most models don’t really have a lot of room to lose weight. If it’s enough to make a visible difference, especially since the woman’s last job, then she’s likely dropped a concerning amount in a very small time period. 

Elphaba spends the next blur of time discussing the shoot with the other photographers as well as the lighting crew, the hair and makeup artists, and Pfannee and his lackeys. They’re mostly set up and ready to go when a voice announces the model is on her way in, and everyone bustles around to prepare. 

Elphaba waits calmly, Pfannee nearly vibrating beside her. “Here she comes!” he says, just barely remembering in time not to physically shake Elphaba’s shoulders. 

A man enters first, stunningly dressed in a tailored navy suit with his chestnut hair swept back and his blue eyes sparkling. That’s sign number one. The second sign is the voice floating behind him, high and airy and delicate. Almost sing-songy. 

Ice floods through Elphaba’s veins. It stops her heart for several seconds before it kicks back on, three times faster than before. Dread twists in her stomach as she turns and eyes the doorway where a glimmer of pink and gold awaits her. 

It’s been years since she’s seen Glinda Upland. At least- in person that is. 

Glinda Upland, one of the highest-paid models in the country, is featured on enough billboards, magazines, ads, commercials, social media posts, and celebrity shows to make even the lowliest citizen feel like they personally know her. Her face is everywhere, and what a stunning face it is. 

Gorgeous and defined with flawless pale skin and dark chocolate eyes. Long lashes flutter as she blinks, and a single dimple carves into her cheek with every smile. America’s darling. Tiny, dazzling, desirable. 

And the woman Elphaba once loved.

Whumptober Day 7: The Way You Shake And Shiver

Prompt: Shaking Hands & Silent Panic Attack

Warning: Mentions of Suicide

Summary: Rex isn't doing so great when they're finally on their way back to 000 from Umbara...

[Sometimes in moments of weakness we turn to old coping mechanisms. Whether that's a good thing or not is up for debate... Sometimes it makes it easier to lie to yourself that something broken can still be fixed.]

THIS STORY IS ALSO ON AO3

---

Before Fox had given him his name, Rex had made a list of options just like every other cadet in his age group. It was almost a tradition for most young clones who still only had their numbers. The task of compiling potential names that may one day suit them in some way, shape, or form.

None of the ones he'd considered had ever stuck.

He'd been rather unsure of himself (the sole golden haired child among a sea of dark curls), often made to hide behind his batchmates. Keeli and Jek had both found their names quickly, and they'd been quite indecisive themselves. But they'd never been as nervous as he had been, so finding something to claim as theirs wasn't hard for them in the slightest.

They knew who they were.

Rex thought he knew who he was. A king with a crown of gold growing naturally upon his skull. A fellow misfit among the CCs that had adopted him. Fitting of a title that had his ori'vod beaming with pride. Fox had made him believe he was a leader.

Fox was a very good liar.

The trip back to Coruscant is a slow one. Umbara long gone from their radar, but still closer than home. Its darkness following the vode well into the flight. The hollowness behind their eyes... It makes his stomach twist and his heart hammer in his chest cavity like there's a parade in town. For once in his life a campaign has left Rex unable to think.

Or rather, unable to process the sheer horror of what he had witnessed. What he had let happen. What he had done.

Little Force Gods what had he done?

So many brothers dead. So many brothers left for dead. So many more dying inside.

He swallows thickly around the lump forming in his throat, and stares ahead unblinkingly. Watching the blue-tinted lines of hyperspace zip by as he considers what's to come, while a voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like Keeli whispers for him to take deep breaths, to start counting.

If he counts it'll help ground him. But does he want to stay grounded? When there is too much going on right now?

Three troopers have eaten their own blasters before departure from Umbara. The death tool rising steadily. Many more might follow. Will follow. The guilt is killing them all, and he doesn't know how to help.

They should be incapable of breaking. Should be impervious to diseases of the brain. But Krell has left an infectious mind. One that makes it hard for Rex to breathe even in the safety of this ship.

His eyes sting, his chest hurts, his heart is breaking into a million pieces, and there's a good chance he might throw up.

His hands are shaking. They shook back on Umbara too.

Dogma's hadn't.

He comes back to in the refresher. Jesse and Fives are at his sides. They look shaken and tired, and a little of something else Rex can't identify right now.

Angry? Disappointed?

Disgusted with their oh so great captain who couldn't even take the shot himself? Who'd let so many brothers die needlessly when he could have acted immediately and avoided disaster?

The thought makes him vomit up more bile. Salty shame runs down his face, snot bubbles up in his nostrils, foamy sick lands in the toilet. Rough but gentle hands rub at the small of his back. He knows whatever relationship he had with both Jesse and Fives is strained now. Justifiably so. But they still have his back. They're holding him through a panic attack.

He counts each circle, each finger on his back. Then counts the murmurs he can hear. Then the instances where he hears Kix at the door, checking up on them. Making sure he's not going to eat his blaster like the others who just couldn't bare the guilt anymore.

Counting helps. It helped back when he was a cadet. It still does now.

He can't for the life of him recall how many names he'd compiled before he'd been given his own. Maybe someone else knew. Rex doesn't think he knows anything anymore. But he has to move on, regardless of what happened on Umbara.

He had to believe in the cause.

Sad Rex imagines time

1. Rex wanting to get away from everyone because he’s stressed but doesn’t have anywhere to go where he won’t be bothered so he hides in a storage closet at the end of a lesser used hall.

2. Rex is naturally blond and when he was a cadet his batch was all normal, so they kinda shunned him and bullied him because being defective is highly frowned upon in clone culture.

3. I headcanon that Rex had a little brain damage from being yeeted every 2 seconds over 3 years which caused his chip to not work properly. Rex probably also suffers from chronic pain from all the injuries he’s sustained and then had healed in a matter of days because of bacta tanks.

4. Imagine after Fives death and it’s only Kix and Jesse left, Rex tries to make new friends with some shines, and then he sees them all die in their first battle and he gives up on trying to make new friends.

5. After Tup and Fives deaths the information on how they died is classified and Rex isn’t allowed to tell Jesse and Kix how they died so they get into an argument about it and end up not speaking to each other for a long while. Its not until much later when Jesse request for ARK training that start speaking again, but they act like their walking on eggshells when their around each other. Jesse only wanted training because he promised Fives a long time ago he’d look out for Rex if anything happened to him, and he doesn’t want Fives to come back and haunt him because he didn’t keep his promise.

6. Once on a mission Rex had to be left behind because they were ambushed and he got injured in the process. Nobody was able to go get him because they had to keep moving and Rex was captured. The whole time he was captured he didn’t think anyone would come to get him because he was just one clone.

7. Cody and Rex fought over Fives case, Rex somewhat believed Fives was right, but Cody didn’t believe it at all. Things got heated and things they didn’t mean were said, what ended it was Cody suggesting Rex was too emotionally unstable and threatened to send him back to Kamino. Rex was quite taken aback by this and left without another word, but they didn’t speak at all after that and then order 66 happened and they lost contact completely.

8. As a cadet Rex’s trainers were harder on him and would give him lower scores than the rest because of his blond hair which made him defective. This caused Rex to have a lot of anxiety as a cadet, as he was constantly threatened with decommissioning for not having a high enough scores.

9. He feels really guilty about dogma, like really guilty. It should have been him to pull the trigger but it wasn’t, and now Dogmas gone and he feels it’s his fault. He understood how Dogma felt, obey orders or face being decommissioned, it’s how he felt back at the beginning of the war. He would have taken Dogma under his wing and showed him it was ok to lighten up a little. But Dogmas gone, and it was his fault.

10. Has a phobia of wide open spaces, since he grew up on Kamino and in an in closed area his whole life, so when he suddenly placed in the vast expanse of space it didn’t sit very well with him.

11. Rex and Anakin were friends but were never close until ahsoka left. Rex felt that it was only the loss of ahsokas company that brought anakin to seek his presence. He just felt like filler for ahsoka.

12. Clones don’t get sick easily, their immune to most known pathogens, but Rex can get so stressed his body can’t take it and he becomes ill.

13. Rex has major survivors guilt way before order 66 happened but after the order it got much worse.

14. Rex and Wolffe fought too. Wolffe was upset and thought ahsoka had betrayed them and had killed their brothers, but Rex knew she would never. When it came out ahsoka wasn’t guilty things were awkward between them. Wolffe and Rex were close since they’ve known each other on Kamino.

15. Ahsoka never said goodbye to Rex when she left and he was upset about it because he felt he didn’t mean enough to her to warrant a fair well.

Sorry for being angsty city on main, Im sad and my favorite trope is hurt no comfort because I need therapy. Anyway, feel free to add your own!

Found a thing I wrote a while back with the concept of Cody taking Waxer's spot on umbara...... should I post it on here 👀

IT IS I, THE CUDDLE PILE ANON. OK OK I KNOW I SAID THAT WOLFFE WAS MY LAST REQUEST BUTTTTTTT I HAD 2 IDEAS AT LIKE 3 IN THE MORNING sooooo basically one about the 501st (+Ashoka) and how they’d comfort Rex when he’s down. And another one were the 501st (+Rex maybe anakin) comfort Ashoka when she’s down. THEY’RE SUCH GOOD BIG BROTHERS 😭 in return for these 2 ideas, I shall gift you with my love and weird quotes my friends have said: “all I wanted was a 10 piece McNugg, I got spiritual enlightenment” “I know I’m not the sharpest kid in the shed…wait” preferably separate fics pls (when it’s convenient for u, YOUR HEALTH COMES FIRST GO DRINK WATER YOU FABULOUS AUTHOR) hey that kinda rhymed ok I’m done 🙃

So sorry I'm late on the first prompt, but finally here we are!

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"Uh oh, someone messed up."

When Fives is the one to freeze in the middle of a conversation, that gains the attention of the scattered 501st troopers nearby. Said newly minted ARC had been in the middle of a rousing story when he noticed that one of the medics decided to join the rest of the "plebs" willingly.

And not only a medic, Kix was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.

"Whatever it was, it wasn't me!" Kix raised an eyebrow as Fives lifted his hands, and gives an amused snort.

"For once it's not your fault. Any of you see Rex?"

"Avoiding you again?" Echo asked, looking up from the manuals he'd been idly reading. "Told him you were going to start getting angry."

"I'm past that, I told him I need to monitor his BSV recovery, and I can't do that if he insists on skirting the medbay. Now, since you all clearly don't have anything to do, I'm pulling rank and ordering you to hunt down Rex and bring him to me."

"But we just got our game going!" Hardcase cried in dismay, he and Dogma crouched over a board game they'd been gifted some time ago.

"Aw poor guy." Kix deadpanned, rolling his eyes. "Tell you what, the man who delivers Rex gets some of the treats Plo gave me."

"Seriously?" Hardcase finds the game suddenly not as important, even Dogma side-eyeing the medic along with the very quiet troopers around him.

Kix shook his head.

"The man who brings me Rex gets to have their own mini-stash."

The medic isn't sure he's seen any room empty so fast, shaking his head with a rare chuckle as he heads back to his beloved medbay. It's not the best look to send an entire battalion after their commanding officer, but at this point Kix was tired of the excuses and his concern for Rex's health was overriding his initial trepidation. The BSV and the lives it took in the bunker had sent a ripple of fear through quite a few men, not even able to bury their brothers who had to be burned to ensure no trace of the virus could remain. They were trained to fight against all sorts of enemies, but one that was naked to the eye and deadlier than any clanker was...uncomfortable to think about, and most medics didn't comment on an uptick of their fellow batchers reading up on viruses and how best to combat them. Kix didn't have too long before he received a message, gathering up his mobile kit before heading out and towards where Rex had been found.

"He's buried in his reports." Jesse had found Rex hiding in a communications room, and Kix just nods. "Want me to keep guard?"

"No, I have a task for you."

When the door to his current hideout opens, Rex wants to curse.

"So, are we done hiding?" There's a clunk on the console behind Rex as the medic's kit is set down, and the blonde just remains silent as he fills out another report. "I need you to look at me."

"I'm busy." The excuse falls flat, and Kix scoffs.

"Who isn't. Do I need to pull rank again, or will you let me do the bare minimum exam?"

"......."

Rex gives in after twenty minutes of silence, the captain grumbling under his breath as Kix descends on him. Despite not being pleased with Rex and his evasiveness, he takes care to keep most of Rex's attention him himself rather than his medical tools. Rex hadn't said it out loud, which to be fair he couldn't as to remain the face his men looked up to and trusted, but being subjected to more than a few nasty tests after being liberated from the BSV had not helped him recover from the fact he could have died without being able to save anyone, let alone himself. Medbay's hadn't been much to him before, but now Rex started going out of his way to catch Kix and the other medics outside of the room, reassuring them as always yet avoiding simple things like his recovery assessment.

"You have been recovering nicely." There's a very small slump of Rex's shoulders, but the medic says nothing as he packs up his kit. "I'll test the blood I took, but you're lucky."

"Like I've been saying, I feel fine." Kix raised an eyebrow, pausing to shoot the surprised commander a glare.

"Oh you are nowhere near fine, but I did promise to try and be nice right now. I order you to report to the barracks, you've been holing up away from everyone, and it shows."

"I have reports to fill out..." Rex winces at how weak his protest is, but doesn't get much of a chance to say more when the door opens once more to reveal Ahsoka. "Really?"

"Jesse says you can't ignore me asking you things." The togruta smiled, and Kix can see the tension visibly leaving Rex as the togruta crosses the small room with a smile.

"Jesse is a traitor." Rex grumbled, but Kix doesn't need to Force to see there was no malice in his words.

"Maybe, but he's right. You haven't seen come to our sabbac nights anymore, and not even Skyguy has seen you outside of shift. So, I'm asking you to come join us scrubs for the night!"

"I'm sorry scrubs?" Rex's eyebrows shot up as Kix failed to hide his snort of amusement, a small grin cracking his impassive face for the first time in ages. "Let me guess, Fives taught you that?"

"Mhm! Although judging by the two of you, it doesn't mean regular troops does it?" Ahsoka grumbled as Kix just barked out a laugh, Rex trembling in the effort to hold his own in. "I'm so getting back at him."

"As long as it doesn't involve personal injury, I'll help." Kix shook his head in amusement, watching Rex place his hand on Ahsoka's shoulder.

"I have a few ideas myself." He tries not to focus on the way the Jetti preens when he gets to his feet, shifting close to him as the trio head out and towards the barracks, listening to some of Rex's surprisingly good prank ideas to use later on.

No one kicks up a fuss when Rex finally joins them for the impromptu movie night Echo and Dogma had set up, just joking with him and laughing about the movie that was more a sound board than actually paid attention to. They all knew it was just background amusement, just happy to see their commander letting loose for the first time since the BSV and enjoying his men's company, leaving the bunker deep in his mind for another night.

Curses, Cocoons and Clones part 1

Prologue here: https://alienficsoutofspite.tumblr.com/post/677031338403151872/curses-cocoons-and-clones-prologue

Im aware this part is short but things are going to get busy for me soon and I’m trying to relax when I can so I’ll be slower with updates but in the meantime, please enjoy.

“Sirs…the floors are glowing.”

Hardcase who was supposed to scouting the building with Dogma while the others used the rain to rinse off all the muck off was poking at loose piece of wood. It was slightly hidden by a pillar in the back of the room. Rex barely contained a sigh. Ahsoka peeked at said lose floorboard and gently pried it open. “Wizard! It looks like a cave system.”

“Maybe the people who lived here used it as a means of escape.” General Kenobi suggested

“Or to hide spice.” Rex grumbled. He was NOT in the mood to find some weird cave that may or may not have something that they weren’t supposed to find. Suddenly he was glad that General Skywalker wasn’t here. He was currently on Coruscant spending time with his secret wife as the Chancellor summoned him for some meetings of some kind. Anakin Skywalker would have gone in went no plan and would probably need a rescue.

Unfortunately, Kenobi although more cautious was curious. With Ahsoka on the team Rex was sure they were going on an spontaneous adventure again.

“What do you think Commander Cody?” Asked Kenobi.

Rex prayed that he would say to ignore it and focus on the task at hand.

To Rex’s dismay, The commander took off his helmet and peered down “I think we should check it out in case the Separatists left something important.”

The cave system was thankfully not a maze but it certainly was a complicated one. Rex it reminded uncomfortably of the labs on Kamino. Some of the other vode must have the same thought as their shoulders were stiff like they were being watched by the trainers. The only source of light were these weird bulbs that grew on the stalactites of the cave.

Cody suddenly stopped in front of large opening. “Cody?” Rex was almost afraid to ask

He waved his hand “Sorry I thought…. Nevermind.” He hurried over to Kenobi. Rex and Fives exchanged looks. Even though the helmets they knew how to read a vode’s body language. Something was definitely wrong. Rex turned to the opening. “Want to check it out?” Asked Fives.

“Let’s see what this place is really about.” muttered Rex and walked further into the cave.

“There was more of the weird glowing eggs things in here.” Rex mused to himself. There was, with them growing thicker and bigger clusters. Rex’s eyes wandered to the centerpiece in the middle of the room. It was a small object on a pillar. It was round and porous with vines and flowers growing in the tiny holes. Fives reached his hand towards it-

“Wait!”

But it was too late a thick pollen erupted from the object covering the room in the stuff.

“Fives!”

“Uhhh…..sorry sir?”

Rex groaned it was bad enough being covered in mud.

Rex felt the beginnings of a headache “let’s just go back to the men.”

“Yes sir.”

Fives didn’t argue and as they slowly walked to the others Rex felt his headache worsening. By when he saw Commander Ahsoka and Cody he felt like his entire body was being crushed.

Cody shouted when Rex collapsed. Distantly he was aware of Fives doing the same. The last thing he saw was Ahsoka’s and Cody’s worried faces.

Febuwhump Day 17

Alt. Shrapnel

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from an unnamed fanfic.

The Force suddenly flares in warning, and Anakin looks up sharply to see an explosive – he didn’t see where it came from – flying right towards them. Instinctively he throws up his hands, altering its path, pushing it away from the palace and from the clones.

It crashes down in the midst of the droids, tearing through them, sending pieces of metal flying in every direction. Some of the clones are still too close, though, and he sees several of them collapse to the ground.

Rex.

Anakin’s eyes fall on the captain. He was too close, and he’s injured too, and the droids are heading right towards him, still shooting, and the few others who are injured next to him.

No one will be able to get to them in time. Except for maybe him.

Anakin springs into motion in a flash, sprinting out from behind the cover of the palace, and running towards where Rex is lying. He ducks the blaster bolts fired at him, raising a hand and calling his lightsaber to him from Obi-Wan’s belt.

The blade hisses to life in hands, and he deflects the last few shots away, yanking the super battle droid about to shoot Rex over to him with the Force, slashing it in half. He hastily finishes cutting through the rest of the droids right around him, and hurries over to the captain.

The explosion took out most of the droids, and the others should be able to handle the rest. Deactivating his lightsaber, Anakin crouches next to Rex, looking over his condition. The injury isn’t as bad as he first thought it was, but some of the injuries are much like shrapnel wounds, thanks to the flying metal from the explosion. Some of them are bleeding badly, and he definitely needs to be treated soon.

Anakin looks past him, to the other clones next. He doesn’t know any of their names, but their conditions don’t look much better. He needs to get them somewhere safe. They’re too exposed out here, with all the fighting.

“Don’t worry about us, sir,” Rex insists.

Anakin throws a glance over his shoulder at the approximately two dozen droids remaining. “They can handle it,” Anakin replies moving to help Rex into the palace.

For the bad things happen bingo, I Will Punish You For Your Friend's Failure, with Obi Wan and Rex during the Zygeria arc with Rex being punished by the slavers.

Oooooh, happy evil brain twinkles.

TW for blood, child death, and mildly graphic torture. No specifics because spoilers but do be cautious.

•••

There is an enemy, and it is within, the Jedi taught.

You will encounter foes of all forms in your years as a Jedi. There will be cruel tyrants and selfish politicians, ruthless criminals and violent terrorists. Possessive lovers, radical reformists, slavers and desperate people willing to do whatever it takes to achieve what matters to them. And then the next thing, and the next.

But these are not the enemy.

The Jedi have only two natural enemies.

The Sith have been extinguished from the galaxy, lost to ruin. What the Jedi did not destroy, the Sith themselves did, locked in the raw emotion of the Dark Side, turning on one another.

And the Jedi are left with the true enemy.

You are the enemy, the Masters warned. Your weaknesses are your real enemy.

All obstacles can be overcome as long as you master yourself.

Fear will lead you astray. Push through it.

Anger will corrupt you. Abandon it.

Envy will poison you. Purge it.

Grief will break you. Overcome it.

And if you fall, you will fall as yourself, at peace. A true Jedi perishes for the right reasons, where not even self-possession could stop the sheer numbers of the opposition.

The enemy is within.

•

Obi-Wan Kenobi took a deep, steadying breath. The enemy is within, he reminded himself. My fear is the enemy. These people cannot destroy me.

The broken wrist, clumsily bandaged and still forced to work, whispers that otherwise. The bruises along his spine groan in misery. There was a cut on his upper lip that had bled and dried in his beard and lips. Someone had driven the handle of a whip into the muscles of his left leg, and it could not bear his weight.

He opened his eyes just in time to receive a stunning blow across the face.

Despite the fancies of holodramas, a strike to the face is nothing to brush aside.

The Jedi reeled, his head exploding, his face stinging. White light erupted behind his eyes and his nose burned as if he’d dived too deep into water.

“Who is your Master?” a voice demanded.

Obi-Wan blinked rapidly, gasping for air. His entire head throbbed; he was on his knees but his back had arched back so far his head was a foot from the floor. Wincing, he dragged himself back up and stared passively into the snarling Zyggerian’s eyes. “I am.”

A roar of discontent. “Wrong!”

The hand came back, but this time it closed around his throat.

•

Qui-Gon caught him by the shoulders, one hand moving upwards to press against the side of his Padawan’s neck.

“You are stronger than your fear,” he said. “Because your fear is only part of you. Your strengths outnumber your fear, Obi-Wan.”

Behind the boy’s young eyes, though - flashes of remembered horror, children dead in the streets of Melida/Daan and the screaming sound a blaster bolt made as it grazed close, so close, to his ear - and hit another boy instead —

Obi-Wan gasped as if drowning, his mind convinced that he was not getting enough oxygen.

Fear was going to kill him.

Fear was the enemy.

“Oh, Padawan,” sighed his Master. And then the hands left his neck and his shoulder, leaving Obi-Wan bereft, plunged into ice cold waters of terror and trauma, his failures haunting him like the ghost of Cerasi.

•

Obi-Wan choked, bucking involuntarily as the meaty hand clenched around his throat, crushing his air pipe.

He couldn’t breathe.

Still. What did it matter, if this monstrous slaver killed him in a fit of rage? Obi-Wan was more than this man and his pride, his greed, his disregard for life.

Obi-Wan was a Jedi.

His body’s automatic response to being abused and killed was nothing.

He was more than his fear.

“Damn Jedi!”

The hand released him, and the red-haired General slumped to the floor, unable to stop his forehead from colliding painfully with the uneven slag flooring. More blood. He tasted it in his mouth, he felt it dripping down his forehead.

“Very well,” the same voice continued. “The punishment must suit the prisoner, in some cases. How lucky of you. So special.”

They cannot hurt me, Obi-Wan reminded himself. My body is not my soul. I am more than my fear.

And then two more slavers entered the room at a summons, dragging a struggling figure between them.

Rex.

Obi-Wan’s fear spiked so sharply he felt his chest stab with physical pain.

No, he told himself. No. Fight it. Fight it—

The Zyggerian behind him sensed his rising emotion and grabbed him roughly, one hand on the thick collar around the Jedi’s throat, and the other dug painfully into his hair.

•

Obi-Wan shuddered.

A bomb - Twela, Bruin, Conno, Toorun, and others went flying, flailing helplessly in the air.

Toorun rolled on his side and got back up.

Conno collided with a vehicle and lay still.

Bruin landed on his feet and stood up, grinning in shocked relief, and then dropped with a bullet in his head. Blood spattered stone.

Twela landed on a pile of rubble.

When Obi-Wan found her, she had been lying there for an hour while the battle wore on, a rebar shoved through her stomach.

It took her two days to die—

Cerasi, falling into his arms. Gasping. Blood everywhere. Her father screaming. Blood on Obi-Wan’s hands—

Nield, his friend, telling him he didn’t belong - kicking him out of the camp to die alone - blaming Obi-Wan, rightfully, for the death of Cerasi and the peace she had helped create—

But as quickly as they had been taken away, the warm and solid hands of Qui-Gon Jinn were there again, this time on his back. Pulling him. Tightening around him.

Obi-Wan blinked rapidly, gasping and shaking, pressed into a warm embrace while his Master rocked him gently, whispering encouragement into his hair.

It was good to be held.

•

Obi-Wan twisted, struggling in near-panic to get away from the arms restraining him.

“Stop it!” he yelled. “Stop!”

They did not stop.

The Zyggerians had been on Rex for over two hours, holding him down, methodically slicing the soles of his feet, throwing their fists into his abdomen and face and throat, slamming his head against the unforgiving ground.

The Captain was a mess; bruised and bloodied, involuntary tears making his damaged face glisten.

Rex had finally started to scream five minutes ago, and still they would not stop—

“Stop! You’ll kill him!” Obi-Wan shouted, his bound hands clenched so tightly that his palms were torn and bleeding. “Stop!”

“And now the bird sings,” the slave master crowed, laughing down at him. “So high and mighty, Jedi?”

“Leave him alone!” Obi-Wan demanded.

The slaver’s face darkened.

Two things happened at almost the same moment.

A knife was drawn from seemingly thin air and without hesitation or fanfare was plunged into Rex’s thigh; the Captain screamed again, writhing.

A button was pressed, and the collar around Obi-Wan’s neck blazed with electricity that made him convulse, blinded, agonized.

“You don’t give the orders here,” the master snarled. “Haven’t you learned? You’re not in control here!”

•

“You are in control, Padawan,” Qui-Gon murmured, rubbing his hand up and down the boy’s back, following the still too-prominent line of his spine. Up and down, up and down.

“I’m not,” Obi-Wan sobbed. “I’m a failure.”

“You haven’t failed until you’ve let yourself down and decided not to get up again,” his Master replied firmly. “You are master of yourself, Obi-Wan, and therefore master of the situation. You can rise above. Even if you need help to do it. You are not a slave to fear.”

•

“Slaves are not masters,” the Zyggerian bellowed, and Rex screamed again.

Obi-Wan shuddered and twitched on the floor; he felt filthy, ragged, used. Now useless.

“You don’t make the rules!” A kick to the abdomen that deprived him of air. Once again suffocating. Drowning.

All he could see was the bloodstained floor. All he could hear was the voice, and Rex screaming through gritted teeth.

“Every time you cross me, I’ll punish your freakish friend. And anyone else that crosses your path. I! Am! In! Control! Here!” Each of the final words was delivered with a sharp jerk on the chain that had been attached to the collar.

Obi-Wan choked and wheezed.

Pain.

Terror.

Helpless.

I can’t —

“Who is your Master?”

“You are,” Obi-Wan told Fear, eyes glazed, blood spattered across his vision. Maybe permanently. Like a brand. Like Cerasi’s lifeblood on his shaking hands.

“Who is your Master?” the slaver asked again.

Obi-Wan stared vacantly upwards.

Fear looked back at him. Outside him. Inside him. Triumphant.

“You are,” whispered the Jedi, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

He slumped to the floor.

Rex’s screams faded as the punishment abruptly ceased; the Clone lay on the stone floor, limp and in terrible pain, staring with abject fear in his eyes at the fallen Jedi.

His utter relief that the pain was over, that they had taken their hideous hands off of him, was warring with his worry.

And his growing terror.

If even General Kenobi could be controlled...

“A good start,” the slave master said thoughtfully, trodding deliberately on Obi-Wan’s damaged foot. “And I was told Jedi did not feel fear.”

•••