Gar Cabur Chapter Twelve

Alpha x fem!reader fic.

Word Count: 5,100

Warnings: fake legal descriptions, accusations of treason, references to the attack on Kamino, angst, accusations of betrayal

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Mirjahaal (Healing)

“The lawyer is going to be there, right?” It wasn’t the first time Alpha had asked the question, but you were nervous enough that you didn’t mind the repetition. 

“Yes, she said she would be attending the meeting in-person, to advocate for me.”

“Good.” Alpha gave a decisive nod. He had approved of Nora Czajak since she had first sent you a holomessage offering to represent your case.

“I’m not a public defender, but I take an interest in cases that are unusual, or ones in which I think the defendant made the right choice,” she had explained. “I think this case has the potential to be impactful, maybe even set a precedent for Senate workers who feel they’ve been abused. It may never make it to trial - in fact, that’s my main goal - but I would appreciate the chance to be part of it. I’ll represent you pro bono, of course.”

You had thanked Nora Czajak, especially since she had made that final offer. Free representation wasn’t common, especially for lawyers who represented clients like the ones her firm did. Still you had been hesitant when you called her back.

“There’s no guarantee that the Senate will even try to charge me with anything,” you had told her. “This is just a preliminary meeting to discuss what happened on Kamino, and how it affects my contract.”

The lawyer’s eyes had sharpened at that, but her voice stayed gentle. “You’re right: there’s no guarantee that the Senate will try to charge you. But there’s also no guarantee that they won’t. And If they’ve already mentioned contract negotiations, you’ll want me there. Or, if not me, then some other form of representation. I know it’s difficult to hear, but the Senate is a government authority in the middle of a war. The attack on Kamino was widely publicized and the Republic is being criticized. They need to put the blame on someone. Your main concern is to make sure it doesn’t end up on you.”

At length - and with much urging from Alpha - you had agreed, and Nora Czajak had taken on your case. He had liked her blunt speech and distrust of the Senate from the beginning, but she had truly won his loyalty when she had negotiated for him to be at the initial meeting and every one following.

“After all, his perspective is valuable,” she pointed out. “He has been your companion almost since you arrived on Kamino. He knows how the training processes work and he’s seen everything you’ve done for this report. More importantly, he was witness to the situation with your supervisor and was one of the first to respond during the battle. I feel very confident saying that he has earned the right to be present at these meetings.”

And so here Alpha was, fully armored and sitting beside you in your office. He had wanted to stand behind you, but you had refused to let him. First, it would look a bit too much like you were bringing a bodyguard to a holomeeting. That would give the wrong impression of how argumentative you planned on being, and it would relegate Alpha to the status of muscle rather than active participant.

Second, and slightly more important, Alpha towered over you when he was standing. If you were in the frame, his entire head would be cut out of the holo projection. 

You had finally succeeded in getting him to sit down, but Alpha looked so incredibly grumpy in the frame beside you that you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You laughin’ at me, neverd’ika?” Alpha asked, glancing over at you with a wounded look on his face.

“Not at all,” you reassured, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Just thinking about how you’re going to scare the poor Senate assistant designated to go over our case.”

Alpha smiled at you for referring to it as ‘our’ case rather than just yours. He had insisted that the situation had been brought about by both of you rather than just you… though he maintained that the Senate was at the most fault.

“You look nice,” Alpha said abruptly. “Too fancy for a meeting with some di’kut, but… yeah. Anyway. When does this start again?”

“Any minute now,” you told him in an effort to keep from smiling like a love-sick idiot. You were, in fact, a love-sick idiot, but that didn’t mean that Alpha needed to know that. Instead, you channeled that energy into bouncing your non-broken leg as you strummed your fingers anxiously. Why hadn’t the meeting started yet?

“Hey, breathe,” Alpha reminded you, his large hand settling on top of your strumming fingers and your bouncing leg all at the same time. “Easy. I know neither of us like meetings much, but we’ll get through it together.”

“Together,” you agreed with a nod, your heart aching at the same time.

When the screen finally connected to the feed from Coruscant, you found yourself looking at a Nikto - impossible to tell whether they were male or female, though it didn’t truly matter - and Nora Czajak. 

Nora looked furious, but when she greeted you and Alpha, her voice was as smooth and professional as ever. “I would like to present to both of you the honorable judge T'roir'krivov Oiplis.”

Alpha stiffened beside you as you blinked to hide your own shock. “A pleasure to meet you, Judge Oiplis.”

“Judge, I must once more protest against these proceedings,” Nora told the Nikto. “We were specifically told we would be having a preliminary meeting with a representative of the Senate’s administration offices, not a judge.”

“Your protests have been noted and recorded appropriately, Miss Czajak,” the judge told her, voice steady. “But we must press onward. Administrator, would you be so kind as to explain your involvement in the events leading up to the attack on Kamino?”

You looked at Nora before you did anything more, but she gave you a slight nod, so you did as Judge Oiplis had asked. The judge seemed particularly interested in how you had been the one to request the Kaminoans allow an unknown ship to pass through their security measures.

“I’m afraid it does seem rather conclusive, administrator,” the judge said regretfully. “The Kaminoans want to hold you personally responsible for the damages, as well as the loss of troopers and cadets. The Republic is in favor of putting you on trial for treason.”

Your stomach dropped. How had things gone so wrong so quickly? Alpha squeezed your hand, a menacing scowl on his face.

“You haven’t asked for my testimony yet, Judge,” he ground out, voice deeper than you had ever heard it.

Judge Oiplis glanced at him in curiosity. “Of course, how could I overlook that? Do you have anything to add?”

And Alpha started to speak, telling his side of things from the time you had arrived on Kamino. He talked about how you had thrown yourself into work with a focus that had made him worry about you. He told the judge how you had spoken with every contact the Republic had provided for you, then sought out new ones to give the most accurate representation of Kamino in your report. He spoke about the meals you had skipped, the late nights you had pulled. 

You were flattered, but also wanted to sink through the floor at the grin Nora kept sending your way, waggling her eyebrows in a way that managed to look lascivious even through a holocall.

“All of that time and effort put into this report and her supervisor tried to have her booted off the project,” Alpha said eventually. “Not once, but several times. In fact, Brid tried to have her fired outright. She was made to question every order, kept on her toes every time the Senate contacted her. She may have been the one who made the final call to let that ship in, but every other part of the problem was a systemic failure on the part of the Senate. I think she’s just another unfortunate being who the Republic is trying to punish for their own failure. And though I’m just a lowly Captain and Advanced Recon Commando trainer for the Grand Army of the Republic, and my opinion holds no weight… I think she should be rewarded for identifying the system’s flaws before the Separatists chose a larger target. Maybe even Coruscant.”

“That is an excellent point, Captain Alpha-17,” Nora mused, pointedly emphasizing Alpha’s title. “It is clear that there is a breakdown in the Senate’s communication and security systems. If our hard-working administrator had, in fact, neglected to instruct Kamino to admit the ship, it is likely the Separatists would have tried to take advantage of those same weaknesses to attack another target. Maybe Coruscant, maybe not, but it wouldn’t surprise me a bit if some clever Coruscanti citizen were to realize how close the planet came to an attack…”

“If she had reported the breach through the proper channels, it would have been investigated and the problem solved,” Judge Oiplis countered.

“Would it have?” Nora asked, skepticism thick in her voice. “I think not. And why should an administrator who had been treated so poorly put her faith in the same system to help her? Besides, has anyone provided you with the frequency that was used to call Kamino and plant the instructions for the ship’s arrival?”

When the judge shook their head, Nora flipped her datapad around and displayed it. Judge Oiplis’ eyes widened. “That’s a Senate-specific frequency.”

“Exactly,” Nora said, tucking the datapad away once more. “Unless we expect every civilian to do layers of digging into every government communication, there is no way for the Senate to insist that the administrator had not done her due diligence in making sure the communication was legitimate.”

“Thank you all,” Judge Oiplis said. “I will review this information. We will have another call at this time next week to either gather additional information or discuss my decision on this matter, as needed. Until then…”

And the judge swept out of the room, leaving Nora alone. She beamed at the holoprojector. “That was perfect! Alpha, especially you!”

You turned to glance quizzically at Alpha. “How much of that was planned?”

“Systemic failure was mine,” Nora admitted openly. “And rewarded for identifying flaws and so on. The rest was all Alpha. I told him to tell the judge the truth, what he had seen in your time working on Kamino. And he did a beautiful job. Verymoving.”

A red tinge crept up Alpha’s neck, but he kept his gaze firmly on Nora. “What do you think the odds are that they’ll try to take it to court?”

“Low,” Nora said immediately, confidently. “Extremely low. I didn’t even usemy threat to sue them for attempted breach of contract - though that is still an option, by the way - because I’m so sure the case will be dropped.”

“Well, if you do decide to sue for breach of contract, let me know,” Alpha told her grimly. “I’ll testify.”

“Alpha…” you admonished with a weary sigh.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Captain,” Nora agreed, eyes bright with amusement as she turned them your way. “You’re a lucky girl to have such a good man in your life.”

You stammered out a flustered agreement and watched Alpha’s hand tighten on his thigh. Did the compliments bother him that badly, or was the reaction caused by the suggestive way Nora had phrased them? Either way, you cut yourself off so you wouldn’t make him more uncomfortable.

“All right,” Nora said, her all-business tone cutting through the tension of the silence that had stretched a beat too long for comfort. “You two relax for the rest of the night. I’ll be in contact with details about the next meeting. For now, go think about something else. Have fun for me!”

You stood too quickly, trying to ignore the sight of Nora Czajak’s wiggling eyebrows as she faded from the holoprojector’s blue-tinted image. Unfortunately, you had forgotten to factor in the lack of balance that came from having one leg in a cast and you began to topple forward. 

Alpha caught you without any reaction, making the motion seem so wholly natural that you forgot to be embarrassed. “Easy there, little one. You did well.”

“I didn’t do anything,” you disagreed. “You did well. Thank you for saying all of that.”

“I just told the truth,” Alpha said, glancing away. You did the same, your face heating as your mind helpfully reminded you exactly what he had said. When Alpha spoke again, it was with the air of a man bringing up an unpleasant topic. “Are you ready to talk about what that meant?”

Ah, so it was an unpleasant topic after all. You tried to avoid his eyes, but it was hard. He had stayed sitting down while you stood, and you were close to the same height because of it. “I didn’t know there was going to be a judge. It means the Senate didn’t tell me everything.”

“It means the Senate set you up to take a fall,” Alpha told you. Now his eyes met yours, his gaze intent and piercing. It was too much, too close, and you wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. The raw honesty in his face held you, kept you staring back as the muscles danced in his jaw. “They’re going to blame you for everything, ruin your life and try to put you in prison, all so they can hide their own failures.”

“That seems a little dramatic,” you protested weakly. “They probably-”

“No,neverd’ika,” Alpha said, eyebrows flattening into a stern line. “I understand, you think the best of everyone, but you need to know this. The Senate doesn’t care about you. The Republic doesn’t care about you. War makes people do terrible things, especially when they’re in positions of authority like that. If the Republic has to choose between doing right by you or keeping the public’s trust by denying their mistakes, which will they choose?”

You could feel your expression change as a wave of cold fear washed through you at that. If Alpha was right - and he probably was - there was no chance that the Republic was going to let you walk away from this unscathed. The needs of one person against those of the entire Republic? It would be far easier to paint you as a traitor and be done with it. Your eyes fell to your feet as you considered that, but they darted up again as Alpha reached out to take your hand in his.

“I’m sorry, little one.” He seemed to be telling the truth. For once, his scarred face was filled with sympathy without an edge of mocking or the cruelty that could sneak in every now and again. His dark eyes were soft and sad, and you wanted more than anything to erase that look from them. 

“Maybe prison won’t be so bad,” you offered half-heartedly. 

The change that came over Alpha’s face was almost comical. His brow crinkled in confusion as bewilderment, realization, anger, and determination flashed across his face at incredible speed. His hand tightened around yours - too tight for a moment, but he relaxed his grip as soon as he realized.

When Alpha spoke, it was with a grit and unmoveable strength that told you he had no intentions of changing his mind. “You will never see the inside of a prison. You’ll never see the inside of a courtroom, if I have anything to say about it.”

“Alpha, you said it yourself,” you reminded him gently. “The Republic is going to try to paint me as the one at fault for all of this so they don’t lose the trust of every planet who swears loyalty to them. How am I supposed to fight against them when they’re trying so hard to take me down?”

“You aren’t fighting against them,” Alpha growled. “At least, not alone. I know a dozen men who would vouch for your character and I was there for most of the situation pre-attack. I’ll testify for you in a heartbeat. If that doesn’t work, I’ll threaten anyone who tries to push the issue.”

“All that means is that we would end up in prison together,” you said with a small smile.

“Nah,” he denied, sounding abruptly unconcerned. “If it comes to that, I’ll steal a ship and you and I will run to Wild Space. We’ll live away from the Republic if that’s what it takes.”

You didn’t want to encourage him, but as you sat there, listening to Alpha plan a hypothetical future for you both, you couldn’t help the broad smile that spread across your face. He saw the change in your expression and an answering smile crossed his face as he listed civilian jobs he thought you could each do. The fact that he clearly had no idea what a civilian job entailed only served to make you break into giggles.

“What, you don’t think I could be a water-watcher?” he asked, sounding playfully offended.

“I’m sure you could be,” you countered, “but I’m not sure what that even means. Are you watching to keep people from stealing the water? Are you trying to check that nothing comes out of it? Making sure it isn’t sentient?”

“All of ‘em,” he answered. “That’s why I’m the best.”

“You’re ridiculous… but if anyone could convince people to pay them to do it, you could,” you said, trying to keep any hint of inappropriate feeling from your face. 

It was a challenge, especially sitting this close to Alpha when he was in one of his rare playful moods, and you ended up glancing down. Unfortunately, your gaze landed on where Alpha’s hand still held yours and he abruptly pulled away, clearing his throat.

“Now, we have most of a week before the judge calls back,” Alpha said, standing up and stretching his shoulders. “You can’t stay here by yourself all day and I have some work to get done. You’re coming with me to the ARC area. At least for today.”

“That’s probably not a good idea.” You didn’t enjoy turning him down so bluntly, but if Alpha had work to do, you would only be in the way. 

“It’s not an idea at all, it’s the plan,” Alpha told you, passing you the crutches before he started moving toward the door of your office. “Come on.”

You stared at him for a moment, but positioned the crutches and followed him. Something in his expression warned you that Alpha wasn’t playing games. If your choices were between walking to the ARC area of your own volition or being carried like a child, you would rather walk, even if you had no interest in going to the destination.

Walking through the halls of Kamino was a little uncomfortable for you. It had been nearly a full month since the Separatist attack and much of life in the raised cities of Kamino had returned to normal. Training had been back in session for the past week and the platform that had been destroyed was already being rebuilt. The stilt itself had been largely undamaged, and could be repaired rather than replaced. Certain areas were still marked off with neat signs written in both Kaminoan and Basic, warning that structural instability could be present, but those areas were getting less common every day.

The biggest difference between pre- and post-attack for you was how you were being treated. Surprisingly, the difference didn’t stem from the Kaminoans. No, despite their attempts to use you as a way to force payment from the Republic, the Kaminoans treated you with the same polite, distant manner they always had. The biggest change was from the cadets.

Since you had first stepped foot on Kamino, the cadets had found you interesting enough to talk to and about. You had found their attention flattering, if a little overwhelming, but you weren’t egotistical enough to think it was due to anything other than being one of the first human females that these cadets had ever seen. Alpha had told you that almost verbatim the first day you had met him. For better or worse, the cadets watched you, followed you, and flirted with you any chance they got.

Or, more accurately, they usedto.

Now it was rare that a cadet would even look at you as you walked through the halls of Kamino. When one did, it was usually to eye you suspiciously before he walked away. When Alpha saw it, he wasn’t happy (you could tell by the muscle tensing in his jaw), but he didn’t speak up on your behalf, either. 

You couldn’t blame them - Alpha or the cadets. You had hurt Kamino, took away the slight bit of safety the cadets felt here as they were learning to be soldiers. Of course they would treat you with suspicion. What proof did they have that you hadn’t brought the Separatists here on purpose? You would have been wary, yourself. And when one considered that they had lost brothers during the attack? Well, you understood why they had closed ranks, keeping their pain among brothers. Alpha understood it as well, which was why he was doing his best to overlook the new attitude among the young troopers.

You were broken out of those thoughts when you heard raised voices. You were getting close to the ARC area and the noise was coming from the area ahead. You glanced up at Alpha. The captain was frowning, but something about the angle of his brow told you that he didn’t know what was happening, either.

You would have told him to go ahead so he didn’t have to wait for your slower pace, but you were just around a corner from the ARC area and there was little point in it now. You picked up your pace as much as you dared and Alpha followed suit.

When you got to the doorway that led into the ARC’s training area, you found a group of cadets arguing with some of the ARCs-in-training. You kept pace with Alpha as well as you could, but when you heard some of the specifics of what they were saying, you stopped short.

“Don’t let her in there!”

“You can’t trust her! None of us can!”

“If she sees where the ARCs train, how long will it be before there’s another attack?”

“She risked her life to get intel for us during that fight,” Neyo told them, voice deadly.

Drift nodded, sounding more serious than you had ever heard him. “And she did everything possible to keep from becoming a hostage.”

“Yeah,” a tall boy added, looking at the crowd of disgruntled cadets. Three more cadets guarded the speaker’s back. They all looked vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t quite place them. “Why don’t you worry about the real threat here?”

A murmur of action ran through the group of cadets at that and they all began to push closer.

“That so?” one cadet asked with a smirk. “And who exactly is the real threat? You?”

“No, me,” Alpha announced, striding forward. You couldn’t see his face, standing behind him like you were, but he didn’t sound happy. “As a matter of fact, I’m the real threat to Kamino. Look up the rescinded order to stop incoming traffic to Kamino. It’s got my authorization code. Is there something you cadets wanted to say to me?”

Alpha had been lovely with you during the past month. He was kind, attentive, entertaining. He was comforting when you were feeling guilty over the loss of lives during the attack, but he also wouldn’t let you wallow in self-pity. You looked at him and saw a friend - someone you had deeper feelings for, but a friend more than anything.

That changed as you saw him now.

He was in full authority mode, standing there as Captain Alpha-17, trainer of the ARC troopers and trusted leader of troops for the Jedi. He was impossibly tall and broad, cutting an imposing figure even without the bulky plastoid plates of his armor. He stared the cadets down without the slightest hesitation, letting them choose exactly how they wanted to proceed. No matter what decision they made, he would deal with the outcome.

“And you don’t think she’s a traitor?” someone asked.

Alpha laughed. It was not a happy sound. “Kid, I’ve met the Chancellor, and he’s less dedicated to the Republic than she is. She’s no traitor.”

“But that’s what the Republic has said - that there’s a chance the attack was orchestrated from inside of Kamino.”

“How did you get access to the holonet?” Alpha asked him sharply. “You need to learn what news sources to trust. Whatever one wrote that isn’t worth your time. The truth - the real truth - is that the attack came from somewhere inside the Senate, not inside of Kamino.”

“Didn’t you teach us that the only people we can trust are brothers?” one cadet asked, looking more confused than angry now.

“Yes, absolutely,” Alpha told him with total confidence. “Can you trust me?” 

The cadets nodded. 

“And I trust her. So as long as you think my judgment is sound, I never want to hear another word about her being a traitor. I was there for what happened before the Seppies landed here, and I know the truth. There are people who want to hurt you, but none of them are in this room. Keep your eyes open and your wits sharp, but never forget who had your back when it cost them. Look at her leg. She paid that price with blood and bone. She’s a warrior, not a traitor.”

You struggled not to look away when the cadets glanced in your direction, but you managed to hold their gaze. They still didn’t look happy to see you, but they also didn’t look outright hostile anymore. It was an improvement, no matter how slight.

“Now get out of here,” Alpha ordered. “I know you’re supposed to be doing your own training, not hanging around the ARCs.”

The cadets dispersed, but four of them stayed behind - the same four who had spoken up on your behalf. Alpha motioned you to join them while the entire group entered the ARC area. 

When you caught up, Alpha gestured to the four cadets. “Do you remember them?”

You smiled apologetically. “You all look so familiar… but I can’t place you. I’m sorry.”

“The last time we met, I believe you were suffering from a rather great deal of pain,” the cadet wearing goggles told you. 

“And had carbon monoxide poisoning,” Alpha muttered.

You shot him a look, but smiled at the cadets as you introduced yourself and offered them your hand to shake. 

The cadet with slightly longer hair than you were used to seeing spoke first. “My name is Hunter, ma’am. It’s nice to see you recovering.”

“I’m Wrecker,” said the tall boy who had threatened the other cadets. “You’re pretty.”

“Crosshair,” the thin cadet told you simply, rolling his eyes at his brother. 

“And I am Tech,” the goggled one announced, just barely managing to pry his attention away from the datapad in his hand.

“I didn’t know they let cadets have datapads,” Drift said, glancing around Alpha’s shoulder.

“They do not,” Tech told him. “This particular datapad was discarded by a Kaminoan who believed it was unusable.”

“I guess it wasn’t?” Neyo asked.

“I repaired it with very little difficulty,” Tech replied, glancing at the screen once more.

“You four helped during the Separatist attack,” you said slowly. “I think I remember. You had blades you were throwing, and you had a gun.”

You pointed at Hunter and Crosshair in turn and both nodded. Alpha’s hand rested gently on your shoulder. “She still has trouble remembering what happened during the second half of the battle.”

“It comes back in bits and pieces,” you explained, trying to ignore Drift elbowing Bacara gleefully at Alpha’s casual touch. “But what are you doing here? Did you get an instant promotion to ARC troopers? You did handle yourselves well.”

“No, we’ve just liked keeping them around,” Monnk told you, slinging one arm around Crosshair and the other around Wrecker. Crosshair pushed his arm away while Wrecker tried to put the ARC into a headlock.

“We’ve been teaching them some useful tricks,” Alpha told you blandly, but you saw the warmth in his eyes when he nodded back at Hunter. Alpha had taken these cadets in as his own. You were glad to see the connections forming, especially between troopers as highly regarded as the ARCs and non-standard cadets like Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair.

“What’s going on out- Oh. Hey, Captain,” Faie greeted as you reached the section where most of the ARC training actually happened. “Are you back?”

“Yeah, and I’ve brought a visitor,” Alpha told him.

Monnk looked at you with an air of sympathy. “Should have known it was just a matter of time before the captain made you start doing drills with us. Brace yourself.”

“She’s not here to do drills, di’kut,” Alpha said with a scowl. “Her leg’s broken!”

“Sothat’s how you get out of drills,” Drift mused, grinning when Alpha shot him a glare.

“She’s going to be here observing,” he corrected. “So you’re all going to be on your best behavior. Right?”

“Yes, sir!” the four young cadets agreed immediately. The ARCs took a slightly different approach, agreeing lazily or - in Drift’s case - grinning at you as he sent an obnoxious wink in your direction. 

“Drift,” Alpha sighed. “It’s not going to be a good day for you, is it.”

Drift grinned at him, too. “It’s always a good day when we have such a lovely guest watching ARC training. Maybe you should join us for a few exercises, show her what exactly you have to offer in the strength and physical fitness departments?”

“Eight laps, full kit,” Alpha barked, turning away from you while he issued instructions to the ARCs as well.

It was a good thing, too. You weren’t sure what kind of look you were wearing, but you were worried it would give you away far too easily. As you noticed the scarcely hidden glee on the ARCs’ faces, you sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon.

—

Author’s Note - I said I would post more chapters in May, remember? Obviously, I wasn’t able to wait too far into the month before I posted something!

It’s so lovely to be back, friends! Thank you to everyone who has continued being interested in this story despite the hiatus, or those who have just found this story and are interested in seeing where it goes! I hope you enjoyed, and I’ll be back with another update soon!

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Gar Cabur Chapter Fourteen

Alpha x fem!reader

Before you read: This should probably be considered chapter 13.5. Someone mentioned wanting to see the ARCs trying to set up you and Alpha. That’s what this chapter is, and it spans the time from when you first met the ARCs to the current time setting. Enjoy!

Word Count: 7,700 (oof)

Warnings: ARCs being stupid, attempted manipulation, some situations that could potentially trigger claustrophobia

Previous|Next|Masterlist

—

Gaanaylir (Trap)

She was known by many names on Kamino.

There was, of course, her own name, but the men didn’t favor that one. They were clone troopers, and most men had some say in what their name ended up being. They had no interest in a name she hadn’t chosen.

Then there was her title. Administrator. A popular choice, but impersonal. It didn’t tell anyone anything about her other than what she did for the Republic. It worked in a pinch, but there were better options.

The most personal name option was neverd’ika, the way Captain Alpha-17 addressed her. Little civilian. Maybe it wasn’t as personal as it felt, but the way the captain said it turned it into something fond and far softer than the words themselves would make the name seem. 

But the name the ARCs like best was the one they had come up with themselves. She had never been addressed by it, not directly. If all went well, she never would. No, the men called her ‘Alor’, if only so they could talk about her without drawing attention - or, on the captain’s part, suspicion.

She wasn’t alone, either. Captain Alpha-17 had his own ARC-given code name: Cabur. 

Both the administrator and the captain had to have those code names so the ARCs could do what needed to be done…

Push them into giving in to their feelings.

The ARCs weren’t stupid. In fact, they had been chosen for their advanced training because they weren’tstupid. They knew something was up with the captain and his administrator. But they also knew that whatever was going on wasn’t nearly enough to make either one happy. And, most importantly, they knew nothing was going to happen if they didn’t give a little… encouragement.

It was a dangerous mission, fraught with too many hazards to count. From the horrors that would happen if they were caught to the look of betrayal the administrator would wear if they succeeded, the task took bravery and tenacity. 

Good thing those were two pillars of being an ARC trooper.

—

Monnk worked on the smallest possible scale. 

He hadn’t been the first ARC-in-training to meet her - that had been Neyo, the di’kut - but he had been one of the earlier ones. He had certainly met her earlier than Drift, which wasn’t saying much. If Alpha could have kept Drift from ever meeting her, he would have.

But Monnk didknow that she and Captain Alpha had first met sharing a meal in the mess, so his subtle efforts were just to mention that. He encouraged the captain to keep spending his mealtimes with her. He would keep anything from interrupting their meals together.

Too often, Monnk had intercepted cadets intent on interrupting the pair as they ate. He redirected them elsewhere with persuasion or threats. They weren’t as scared of him as they were of Alpha, but Monnk did his best and came up with some creative stuff, if he did say so himself. 

Evenings were even more of a challenge. Since ARC training ended in the afternoons, it seemed like the entirety of Kamino came to Alpha with questions they had or small tasks they needed him to do. Monnk ran interference in those situations as well, and found himself becoming one of the most trusted sources for information from the cadets and well-acquainted with most of the officers stationed on Kamino. He also got a better idea why Alpha seemed as harsh as he was - even with Bacara taking on some of the tasks, Monnk always seemed to be busy keeping the heat off of the captain.

When he got the chance to speak with Alpha, Monnk pressed his luck and directly mentioned the meals he shared with the administrator, usually by pretending to have temporarily forgotten that arrangement. “Did you want to meet up during lunch to talk about-? Ah, sorry. I forgot you have a lunch partner. Lucky vod. We’ll figure it out later, then.”

So far, the captain hadn’t gotten angry about these little comments, but he didn’t seem to be particularly swayed by them, either.

Ah, well. Monnk would keep trying. Maybe he would turn up the intensity at some point, but this was enough for now. Anything more would be overkill.

—

“Drift, I swear to the gratii’la Maker that I’ll tear you to pieces if you don’t get us out of here right now!” the captain bellowed.

“Sorry, sir!” Drift apologized, only barely managing to keep the sound of his grin from showing in his voice. “The elevator just stopped! I don’t know what happened.”

Alpha continued shouting threats from behind the doors as Drift pulled his slicing kit out of the control panel. Drift tucked the kit neatly into the pouch on his belt as he chuckled at the occasional Mando’a obscenity the captain tossed into his tirade, half-wishing he could see his commanding officer’s face.

“Alpha!” the administrator chided, her voice only barely audible through the doors between them and Drift. “I’m sure he had nothing to do with it. Why would Drift want to get us stuck in an elevator?”

“What are youlaughing about?” Faie asked, approaching with Bacara. “Did you trick another cadet into calling a Kaminoan something inappropriate?”

“Not exactly,” Drift told him, beaming as the sound of quiet conversation reached his ears. They were talking, and that was the precursor to other things.

Bacara’s eyes traveled past Drift, widening as they scanned the panel and found it slightly askew. “Is that-?”

Drift pushed the panel fully back into place. “Alor and Cabur? Yeah.”

“Are you insane?” Faie hissed. “The captain’s gonna kill you.”

“We all knew it was just a matter of time,” Drift said flippantly. “But this might be enough to convince them.”

Bacara shouldered his way past Drift, clearly aiming for the panel while Drift hovered behind him, ready to pull his vodaway if he started to undo Drift’s hard work. Instead, Bacara just popped the panel open again, entered a long code into the miniscule keypad, and keyed in his datapad’s frequency.

Then he, Faie, and Drift watched as a grainy cam feed flickered to life on the small screen. The administrator and her captain were standing close - a necessary thing in such a confined space - but they weren’t touching. They were talking, though, and the captain was wearing the softest expression Drift had ever seen on his scarred face.

“Turn on the sound,” he urged. “I wanna hear what they’re saying.”

“I dunno,” Faie told him, eying the way the administrator’s hand settled lightly on the captain’s forearm. “Looks like a private conversation to me.”

“Exactly!” Drift told him, exasperated as he pressed what he guessed to be the correct button on the control panel. 

It worked… in a way. A long beep came from the datapad, but it clearly had sounded inside of the elevator as well. Alpha and the administrator pulled apart, their conversation broken off as they glanced around.

“Osik,” Drift breathed, frowning when the expletive was repeated a second later from the screen. He had activated some kind of internal comm system. 

Fortunately, Bacara had enough presence of mind to cover him and keep their self-instigated mission from being discovered. “Captain, it’s Bacara. Faie, Drift, and I are working to fix the elevator.”

Alpha snorted, his derision clear even through the tiny speaker of the datapad. “I’d rather not leave our safety to other people. Especially if Drift is one of those other people.”

He raised a large fist, clearly aiming for the control panel inside of the elevator as the administrator’s mouth fell into a stunned gape. Bacara made an aborted move toward the control panel and Drift had time to let out a panicked breath as Faie stared at him, wild-eyed. If Alpha destroyed an elevator that worked perfectly and had just been temporarily stalled, there would be hell to pay from the Kaminoans. 

“Captain, wait!” he demanded, pushing the panel open once more, flicking a switch and pressing the four buttons necessary to restart power to the elevator. “We have it figured out now. The elevator will stop on the next floor down, then you can take it wherever you need to go.”

“Kriff that,” Alpha swore. “We’re taking the stairs from now on.”

And when the elevator doors opened on the next floor down, Alpha stomped out, leaving the administrator to trail in his wake.

Faie sighed, shaking his head at Drift. “You’re an idiot, vod. But I’ll give you this: I think I’ve figured out what I’m going to do for my push.”

Bacara disconnected his datapad and walked away with Faie, leaving Drift to put the panel back like he had found it. As he worked, Drift thought about his attempt, analyzing the successes and failures of it. Maybe it wasn’t the most elegant solution, but it hadn’t been a total loss, either. 

He wouldn’t give up on it.

—

It didn’t take long for Faie to plan out his attempt. The most time-consuming part of the whole thing was waiting for the right situation to present itself. He needed to be in ARC training, working on defensive and offensive maneuvers, and he needed her to be there.

The administrator being in the ARC training area wasn’t exactly a rare thing, but it wasn’t common, either. That mirshepar'la report took up most of her time. Everyone knew it was busy work, a way of keeping the Senate occupied while the GAR and the troopers did the real work of fighting the Separatists. Well, maybe the administrator didn’t know it… but how could she not? An infant could see that.

In any case, Drift’s stunt with the elevator had given Faie the inspiration he needed to make his plans, and when she came to quietly observe the ARC training, he knew he had found his opportunity. Bacara had pointedly refused to participate in the mission, but he was usually fine with supporting the others in their work. That day, he had triggered a small electric charge that had temporarily frozen the administrator’s datapad. She was paying full attention to the training, guaranteed to see everything that Faie was planning.

“Captain?” he called, attracting Alpha’s attention. “Could you give another demonstration of Maneuver 127? I’d be interested to know how you adjust for the weight of a kama.”

Maneuver 127 was a tricky, showy motion. It required a trooper to fling himself into the air, twist to kick an opponent of equal or greater height, and spiral himself back into position to land on his feet and keep fighting. It was one of the most technically difficult movements in the entirety of Advanced Recon Commando training, and Alpha had perfected it before any of these men had been decanted.

The man in question frowned at Faie. “We went over that move two days ago and you have questions about it now?”

Even for the sake of the mission, Faie bristled at being found lacking. “I understood the rest of it, but I didn’t consider the kama’s effect on balance until today, sir.”

Alpha sighed. “Fine, but watch closely. I’m supposed to be training you sharala men, not putting on a show for you.”

As the captain strode to the middle of the training space, Faie noted with smugness that the administrator was watching him closely. Her attention was fixed on Alpha almost constantly, but it was good to know for certain that she was going to witness his competence and combat abilities. Faie couldn’t think of anything that would impress a female more.

Alpha’s muscles tensed and he leapt into the air, performing every motion perfectly. The kick he delivered was swift, sharp, and brutal - it would disable a droid immediately and any nat-born would beg for mercy just at the threat of it.

When Alpha landed on his feet once more, he glanced around the room. “And that’s how you balance. Any more que-?”

He had cut himself off as his eyes landed on the administrator, who was shaking with silent laughter. She noticed that he was watching her and waved her hands apologetically. “Sorry, I- I’m sorry! That was just… I never knew you were so spinny! It was-” she cut herself off and cleared her throat, striving for a serious tone. “It was very impressive.”

Alpha’s face took on a hint of red under his tan and glared at Faie. “Ten laps, men!”

As Faie ran, trying to figure out what had gone wrong, Neyo passed by and tossed him a sympathetic look. “Alor’s a tough one to crack, huh, vod?”

Faie couldn’t agree more.

—

The second time wasn’t his fault, not really.

Drift had been just around a corner when he heard Alpha’s exasperated huff emanating from a nearby storage room. “It’s not in here, neverd'ika.”

The administrator sighed. “Alpha, just- Yes, it is. I justsawit.”

Drift peeked around the corner. Alpha was indeed inside a storage closet and his administrator was waiting outside. The lights were off and he was rummaging around on the last shelf, his broad back aimed toward the door.

“You get it, then,” the captain huffed. “I don’t see it in here at all.”

“The whole reason I asked you is because I can’t reach it!”

“I can’t reach what isn’t in here!”

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, stepping into the small storage closet while Drift watched from around his corner.

When Alpha didn’t leave the closet or turn around, the opportunity officially became too good to pass up. In seconds, Drift had sprinted up, closed the door, and activated the exterior lock.

The shouts and fists against the inside of the door started instantly, but Drift ignored them all. Instead, he retreated around the corner - safely out of earshot, with the noise in the closet - and activated the group comm frequency the ARCs-in-training had set up. 

“Alor and Cabur mission completed,” he reported.

“There’s no way,” Neyo denied instantly.

A sigh that could only have come from Faie emanated from the speakers. “He means he’s trapped them in another elevator.”

“Ooh, bad idea,” Monnk said. “Captain’s gonna kill you.”

“Not if he’s busy enjoying life with his new girlfriend,” Drift countered. “I just need to figure out how to get from this point to that one. Any ideas?”

“Here’s an idea: run,” Monnk advised, and the other ARCs agreed. “You need to be far away from there when Cabur gets out.”

Drift opened his mouth to argue, but a cadet turned the corner, heard Alpha’s demands to be let out, and started for the control panel beside the door. Then he was too busy running to think up a witty reply. 

—

Neyo wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything. It was part of what had signaled him out as an ideal ARC candidate. More than once, his quick actions and fearless demeanor had been the difference between life and death - not only his own, but those of his brothers and general. 

Those skills translated well to ARC training, but Neyo wouldn’t have guessed that they could be applied to a conversation between himself and his ARC trainer.

Still, his mind was working overtime as he decided on a day. After the day’s training had ended - and Bacara had helpfully ushered the other men out of the ARC training area - Neyo approached Captain Alpha-17. 

“Captain, can we have an honest conversation?” he asked.

Alpha stared at him for a moment, eyeing him skeptically before he checked his chrono and gave a slight sigh. “Fine, but… hurry. I have places to be.”

“Meeting your civvie - I know. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Neyo told him quickly, seizing the conversational opening as soon as it appeared. He didn’t miss the way Alpha’s expression shuttered, turning icy as he gave a tight nod.

Realizing that was all the invitation he would get, Neyo got straight to the point. “You like her.”

Alpha blinked, startled at first, then incredulous. “Like h- Of course I like her! Why would I spend so much time with someone I can’t kriffing stand?”

“That isn’t what-” Neyo broke off, adjusting the trajectory of his point. “I meant that you clearly have a romantic interest in her. You should just ask her to go out with you. I’m sure she would say yes.”

The look Alpha sent Neyo’s way made the ARC-in-training’s blood turn to ice. Neyo’s spine stiffened as every instinct screamed that he was in danger. 

But Alpha didn’t make a threatening move. He didn’t evenspeak.

Instead, the captain simply turned to leave, holding his glare for every millisecond possible before breaking his gaze.

The minute that chilling look was aimed away from him, Neyo started after Alpha. “Captain-" 

"One more word, Neyo,” Alpha rumbled. “One. More.”

Neyo wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything. Theoretically, that included Captain Alpha-17 and his unfinished threats. In practice, though…

He decided to let things go.

—

The ARCs-in-training had to take a step back from their mission before much more progress could be made. A Separatist attack on Kamino had pushed duty before the pleasure that was - depending on the man - a toss-up between trying to ensure the captain’s happiness or thoroughly unbalancing him by putting him in situations he was unprepared to deal with.

On the smallest possible positive side, the attack gave the ARCs confirmation that their captain truly did care for the administrator. He had been unhinged during the attack while they were trying to find her, taking out tinnies with a speed and violence that none of the other men could hope to match even if all of their efforts were combined. And when they had found her, only to see that she had sustained injuries? 

Well, none of the men had ever expected to see the legendary Captain Alpha-17 hobbled by his emotions.

Still, she hadn’t let it slow her down too much, despite the cast that wrapped around the lower half of her broken leg. She still spent plenty of time in the ARC training area… though there were also four new men to explain the mission to.

“So you’re trying to form a romantic connection between the two of them?” Tech asked, fiddling with his goggles as he did when he was deep in thought.

“No, of course not,” Faie denied, sounding offended. “That would be ridiculous. They already havea romantic connection.”

“We’re just trying to get the captain to act on it,” Monnk explained.

“Or the administrator,” Drift pitched in. “We’re not picky.”

“Code names, guys, c’mon,” Bacara muttered.

“Alor and Cabur, right?” Hunter asked. He didn’t hesitate or stumble on the pronunciation - trooper memory was too exact for that - but he frowned. “Were those chosen for a reason?”

“They’re Mando’a words,” Bacara explained. He had kept out of things for the most part, but he was good at running interference for his brothers. “Alor means ruler and-”

“Ruler?” Wrecker asked. “Why ruler? She’s not in charge of us.”

“It means ruler traditionally,” Faie told him. “In context of the GAR, it means something closer to ‘leader’ or ‘officer’. She’s basically an officer, or might as well be. Just one who doesn’t see combat.”

“Or shouldn’t have to,” Monnk said darkly and the group grew quiet thinking about everything that had happened during the attack.

“And Cabur?” Crosshair asked. He was easily the least interested of the cadets, but he had asked the question, which had to mean something. 

“‘Protector’ or ‘guardian’,” Bacara said shortly. “He’s on his way here now. I’ll hold him up while you all finish explaining. I probably can’t keep him for long, so make it fast.”

They did, quickly explaining what they had done so far.

Crosshair snorted. “You’re all cowards. What you shoulddo is flirt with her, make him jealous.”

There was a beat of silence as the men considered that. 

Drift chuckled lowly. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do since the first time I met her. Doesn’t work. Besides, none of us want to die at the captain’s hands. That’s not cowardly, it’s… it’s a wise allocation of resources. The resources in question being my face and my ability to keep using it.”

“I believe Neyo’s efforts make the most sense,” Tech opined when they had finished. “If this is something the cap- Cabur wants, the best thing to do is explain how to make it happen.”

“Nah, Faie’s got it,” Hunter disagreed. “She was impressed with everything he did during the attack, so we know she likes his competence. He just chose the wrong move. Civvies don’t understand how hard Maneuver 127 is to do.”

Wrecker grimaced. “Females are tricky and I don’t know what would work. But I’d flirt with her. I’m not scared of the captain.”

From the amused grumbles around the room, no one believed him, but they didn’t contradict him aloud so everyone else moved on.

Crosshair looked thoughtful. “Why don’t you make this more interesting? Turn it into a bet. First one to push them together wins it all.”

“We don’t have money, kid,” Neyo told him, chuckling.

“I’m sure you have something worth betting,” Crosshair said with a shrug. “No trooper leaves Kamino and comes back without any prizes at all.”

“Just help Drift, Crosshair,” Hunter told him.

“Yeah,” Monnk said with a grin. “Drift needs all the help he can get.”

Drift scoffed. “I don't need help because my plan is perfect enough to stand on its own.”

“When I die, it’s not gonna be because I locked the captain in a closet and he threw me from a platform,” Crosshair snarked.

Wrecker laughed loudly, throwing an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Yeah, you’re gonna die from shame when I take out more droids than you!”

“I beat you during the attack,” Crosshair argued. “By a lot.”

That sparked an argument between the two cadets, but Bacara’s overly loud conversation warned them that Alpha was coming into the ARC training area, his administrator trailing just behind. The troopers exchanged weighty glances and got ready to train. Their conversation ended there, but the second half of their efforts were only beginning.

—

Unsurprisingly, Wrecker’s plan was the first to fail. He had done his best to flirt with the administrator, but considering that he was a cadet and not one of the smooth-talking ones, his efforts were immediately unsuccessful. 

The administrator had laughed, erasing the uncomfortable smile from her face. “You’re adorable, Wrecker. I’ll have to pass, but that was very sweet.”

Wrecker’s smile had faded almost immediately when she walked past him and he was faced with a glaring Alpha looming over him.

“You boys are new here,” the captain ground out while Bacara lingered behind him, ready to interrupt if necessary. “I’ve let you figure things out for yourselves, but maybe that wasn’t a good choice on my part. You and I are gonna go over some basic rules and you can share ‘em with your brothers. Sound good?”

“Yes, sir,” Wrecker agreed instantly, trying to swallow the nervousness away from his voice. 

“Good,” Alpha had said, pausing an extra moment. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir,” Wrecker said again, mostly because it seemed like the safest choice. 

“First rule: keep what you learn to yourself. The other cadets don’t need to know what you know.”

“…okay,” Wrecker agreed slowly, wondering what this had to do with the administrator.

Alpha nodded approvingly. “Second rule: don’t pick fights with the other men. You haven’t spent much time with them and you have different skills from the ones they have, but they’re your brothers. If they start something, end it, but you do not make the first move.”

“No, sir. I won’t.” Wrecker was gaining confidence the longer this conversation went on.

“Third rule: if I everhear, see, or even think you’re flirting with a civilian administrator who is made uncomfortable by the attention, you and I are going to have a conversation that you will - not - like. Do you understand me, soldier?”

Wrecker had snapped to attention by the time the captain had asked his question, and fought the urge to salute as he replied, “Sir, yes sir!”

Captain Alpha-17 let Wrecker dangle there for a minute, one that felt even more intense under Bacara’s concerned gaze. Alpha brought his large hands together, slowly and methodically cracking every joint in his fingers before reaching up to crack his neck. The popping was loud in the taut silence, and Wrecker fought not to flinch with every sound.

“Great,” Alpha said, turning away from him. “I never want to have this conversation again.”

When he had left, Wrecker almost slumped in relief as Bacara let out the breath he had been holding. The ARC trainee let out a laugh clearly designed to break the tension. “Scratch that plan from the list of ideas.”

Wrecker could only agree.

—

Drift was observant. No one would believe it at first - and that was the way he liked things - but Drift took note of everyone and everything. It had helped him stand out from his brothers, and it had helped him take early notice of the way the captain and the administrator had claimed a particular balcony on the lower levels of Tipoca City as their own. 

And so he took to haunting that particular section of the city, ready to continue his plan.

It didn’t take long to find the pair out on their balcony, and the door panel didn’t even need to be sliced to make it lock. Ever since the Separatist attack, all of the doors with exterior access had been programmed to lock from the inside, no matter where they were at on the compound. 

It was the work of a single moment to engage the door’s lock – it was even soundless. The couple-to-be were none the wiser.

Drift knew better than to call his brothers to figure out the next step. They had shown a startling lack of understanding for his extremely nuanced plans, and were no help when it came to figuring out how to get Alpha and his administrator from ‘trapped together’ to ‘getting together’. 

He was on his own.

Fortunately, Drift was an independent thinker, but he really thought quantity over quality of time together would sort things out. Most nat-borns believed in outside forces like fate or destiny. Maybe the admin would think that all of the times they had been locked into places with Alpha were because they were fated to be together and not because Drift was the only ARC-in-training with a valid plan.

In any case, he just had to keep them there. Alpha was a clever man, and he would probably try to slice the lock when he found out they were trapped on the balcony. Drift would block those attempts just enough times that Alor got to see how talented a slicer Cabur could be, then he would gracefully retreat and leave them to romantic bliss.

Of course, graceful retreat and respect of privacy were for later. 

Drift pulled his datapad from the pouch on his belt, booting up the feed from the holocam he had strategically placed on the balcony while he was doing his prep work. It was a minuscule cam, impossible to notice unless one happened to look in exactly the right place on the outer frame of the door. And it had an audio feed.

When the feed displayed on the screen of Drift’s datapad, the pair looked peaceful, lost in the bliss of standing in each other’s arms - well, almost - and staring out at Kamino’s gray sky and gray ocean. Despite their depressing surroundings, both looked deliriously happy, like they were watching a sunset on Scarif instead of watching a midday gap in the rain on Kamino. Maybe love really wasblind.

Alpha’s arms were on either side of the administrator as he stood behind her. From what little Drift could see of her, she looked happy with that arrangement. Still, Alpha glanced down at the top of her head after a while.

“I think we should go back inside, neverd’ika,” he said, normally gruff voice gentle and full of reluctance. “We both have work to do.”

She stirred gently, giving a sigh so light that Drift was impressed by the tiny cam’s mic quality. “You’re right, Alpha. But thank you; I needed this.”

“Any time, you know that.” Alpha was still smiling slightly as he turned around to prod at the door’s exterior control panel.

That smile disappeared entirely when the door didn’t open, and he was outright frowning by the time he had finally accepted that something was wrong.

“What’s going on?” the administrator asked.

“Something’s wrong with the door,” Alpha bit out. 

“Uh oh,” she replied, sounding more than a little concerned. “I’m not terribly afraid of heights, but I really don’t want to spend the night out here.”

“We won’t,” Alpha reassured her. “We’ll call someone to let us in. It might just take some time for them to get here.”

“…Do you have your comlink?” she asked. “Because I don’t.”

Alpha froze. “I… don’t. I left it in my quarters with my armor. Along with my slicing kit.”

Drift beamed. Without a slicing kit or a comlink, the two really were stuck out there. They would have no choice but to talk and, eventually, come to terms with their feelings. An extremely intoxicated Commander Hilltop had once told Drift that relationships took two things: chemistry and a crucible. While Drift had a healthy amount of skepticism for anything one of his brothers said about relationships, that one made sense to him. Alpha and the administrator had chemistry, and this was definitely a crucible…

“What are we going to do?” the administrator asked, her voice tight with growing tension.

“It’s okay, neverd’ika,” Alpha soothed, setting a hand on her shoulder. “I have an idea.”

His free hand rose to her other shoulder and Drift held his breath, certain he was going to see his captain kiss the pretty civvie… but Alpha just positioned her in one corner of the balcony. 

“Stay there. I’m going to break the door down and I’ll need as much room as I can get.”

“Break the door down?” the administrator asked, watching Alpha with horror.

“Break the door down?” Drift repeated, watching the datapad with horror.

“It’s solid durasteel,” she continued. “You’ll hurt yourself!”

Alpha watched her, raising one eyebrow. “I don’t think so. Stay still.”

He turned and aimed a sharp kick at the panel beside the door. It made an ominous cracking sound, then began to beep frantically. The inner panel flashed with all kinds of interesting colors and warning lights. 

“One more should do it,” Alpha reported.

Drift agreed, which is why he sprinted away from the door as quickly as he could. The cam feed on the datapad showed that they made it safely through the door in under a minute. Drift was long gone by that point… though he realized on the way that he hadn’t had time to close the door panel before he left.

—

“I hope you know what you’re getting us into,” Neyo muttered. “It didn’t go well the last time.”

“That is because you tried to advise him based on your own understanding,” Tech countered. “Why should Cabur trust your experience with females since it is so lacking? This information was found scattered in various places across the holonet.”

“That doesn’t make it true, kid,” Neyo argued. 

Tech frowned at him, eyes narrowing behind his goggles. “Why would it have been recorded to so many different places if it weren’t true?”

“Because natties don’t make sense.”

“Do you have a better plan?”

Neyo sighed. “No. No, I don’t. Fine, let’s try passing on your holonet advice.”

“After considering all of the variables, I believe this will be the best time to speak with him,” Tech explained. “He is about to go see Alor, which puts him in an observably better-than-average mood, but the day’s training has ended, so the captain is less likely to be in a warrior’s mindset.”

“I’m always in a warrior’s mindset,” a voice rumbled from behind them, sending the same tension through the cadet’s shoulders as the ARC trainee’s. “Why are you men so concerned about my mental state?”

Neyo tensed, but Tech turned and breezily asked the captain, “Did you tell her that she looks lovely today?”

Alpha frowned. “No, I- Why would I? Is there something going on?”

“No, but it is always advisable,” Tech pointed out.

Neyo nodded, backing up the young cadet. “Yeah, Captain, he’s right. Females like knowing that they look nice.”

“That’s… not a terrible idea…” Alpha slowly conceded, seemingly searching for a way to think of it as one anyway. 

“No, it isn’t,” Tech agreed. “You could also consider bringing her flowers.”

“Flowers?” Neyo tensed, thinking Tech had pushed too far, but Alpha only looked thoughtful. “Why? Did she say she wanted flowers? I don’t know if I could find any, but if she wants them…”

“No, she didn’t say she wants flowers,” Neyo admitted, knowing that in particular could come back to bite them. Tech glared, but Neyo ignored him. Only one of them was being directly trained by Alpha, and Neyo wasn’t going to suffer the consequences if Alpha thought they had tricked him. “It might just be nice for her to get some kind of gift. You know how hard she works.”

“She does work too much,” Alpha agreed with a slow shake of his head. “But if I’m gonna get her a gift, it’ll be something she can use, not some di’kutlaflowers. Maybe a vibroblade, or a small blaster.”

Tech shot Neyo a triumphant look, but Neyo shook his head. The captain was smart, and it was too early to start celebrating. 

Sure enough, Alpha’s eyes sharpened a moment later. “What brought all this on, men?”

“We simply thought you could use some assistance,” Tech said before Neyo could stop him. 

“Assistance,” Alpha repeated, voice slow and dangerous. 

“Yes, because you seem to have trouble forming a romantic connection to the administrator,” Tech continued, heedless of the growing danger. Alpha seemed to loom larger in front of the slender cadet as Neyo’s hands tensed, ready to pull him away. However, the feeling of impending violence from Alpha halted as Tech said, “It is quite perplexing, considering the obvious strength of her feelings toward you.”

Alpha halted entirely, and Neyo hadn’t even noticed that he had been moving until that moment. “Get out of here, men. We aren’t talking about this.”

“Oh, but I’ve compiled more-”

“Everagain, clear?”

“Clear, Captain,” Neyo agreed, pulling Tech away. “Thank you, sir.”

When they were out of earshot, Tech turned to Neyo. He looked thoroughly disgruntled. “What were you doing? I had more information to share.”

Neyo stared at the cadet, utterly heedless of the danger he had so narrowly escaped, and shook his head. “You’re one lucky verd’ika, you know that? We’re dropping this.”

Tech snorted, but didn’t refuse. It was good enough for Neyo.

—

“What about Attack Formation 37?” Hunter asked.

Faie shook his head. “No, that’s a group formation. Still impressive, but more based on teamwork than individual strength.”

“Ooh, what if we asked him to demonstrate the right way to disable a weaponized flying probe droid?” Hunter’s dark eyes gleamed excitedly at the prospect.

Faie bit back a sigh. Hunter was a cadet, just a kid. Well, as much as any of the troopers could be considered children, anyway. These cadets in particular had been kept away from the others because of their mutations, which had led to them being far more mature in some ways and far less in others. 

Hunter had been a huge help when the ARCs-in-training were helping to take out the Separatist infiltrators around Kamino. Without Hunter, Crosshair, Tech, and Wrecker, it was likely the future ARCs wouldn’t have been able to fight off Ventress. They hadn’t managed to capture her before she fled the planet, but they had kept her from getting the Fett genetic sample or killing more people, which was a better outcome than anyone had expected.

That being said, Faie was beyond frustrated with the way Hunter was straying from the task at hand. Yes, he was suggesting ways that they could showcase Alpha’s competence and impress the administrator…but all of Hunter’s suggestions were far less focused on finding the most impressive moves and maneuvers and far more focused on having Alpha demonstrate all of the things that the cadet wanted to learn.

With infinite patience - or as close as he could manage, anyway - Faie said, “No, that won’t work the way we want it to, either. Flying droid intercepts almost always involve the use of a net gun, which is tricky, but ultimately looks unimpressive.”

Hunter nodded slowly. “Maybe Maneuver 63?”

“That might work…” Faie agreed, filled with relief about an idea that would be acceptable… if not for certain other factors that the cadet wouldn’t know about. “The only problem is that it needs a Z-6 rotary blaster and we don’t keep one of those around, not for practice purposes. By the time we found one, Alor would have probably lost interest or remembered something else she needs to work on.”

Hunter sighed, but froze before he could finish the exhale. “They’re coming-”

Alpha and the administrator stepped through the doors an instant later. Faie appreciated Hunter’s gifts, but that hadn’t been very much warning. “Don’t say anything. We’ll figure it out and try a different time.”

“Cabur’s happy and so is Alor,” Hunter hissed. “We won’t get a better time than this.”

As the couple crossed to where Faie and Hunter were standing, Alpha was clearly trying to ignore them both, but the administrator smiled and gave a small wave in their direction.

“Hello,” the administrator greeted. “What are you two doing today?”

“Trying to figure out a tricky maneuver,” Faie answered, but Hunter interrupted a moment later.

“Captain, what’s the best way to disable the memory stored in a commando droid?” the cadet asked.

Alpha’s brows shot upward, then furrowed as he gave Faie an unhappy look. “That’sthe tricky maneuver, Faie? You should know that well enough from your training, soldier. C’mere, kid.” 

Faie did his best not to glare at Hunter as the cadet went to stand beside Alpha. “We’re gonna use Faie as our commando droid in this example. The memory storage is here.” Alpha’s fingertips connected roughly with Faie’s body-glove clad chest. “You’ll have to hit hard to get through the durasteel plating in the way. Your best bet is shooting it, aiming for the small maintenance panel here.”

Faie fought not to wince at the second hard prod to his chest. 

“I understand, sir,” Hunter said quickly.

“Good,” Alpha approved, sending Faie a dark look. “Faie, where is the memory storage in a B-1 battle droid?”

“In its head, sir,” Faie replied immediately, struck with an idea at the same time. “Maybe you should explain to Hunter how he would remove a B-1’s head by hand if it ever became necessary.”

Alpha’s frown deepened. “He’s a cadet. He would have to use tools - knowing him, a vibroknife would be his first choice.”

“I could use an explanation for when I’m fully-grown, sir,” Hunter told him, eyes brightening in the way they did when he sensed that he could learn something new and interesting. 

Alpha snorted. “Tell you what, kid: when you’re fully-grown, find me and I’ll show you then. Deal?”

“Yes, sir,” Hunter agreed.

“Faie.”

“Yes, sir?” Faie asked, a little surprised to be addressed again.

“By the end of the week, I want to see that you’ve logged at least two non-instruction hours on the droid component module.” Alpha crossed his arms over his chest and the administrator looked sympathetically at Faie.

“Yes, sir,” Faie agreed tiredly. 

Alpha nodded and left, the administrator by his side.

“So…” Hunter started hesitantly. “What maneuver were you thinking would work best?”

Faie shook his head. “Forget it, kid. I have two module hours to log.”

—

When he couldn’t sleep, Drift made a point of walking around Kamino’s training compound. 

There wasn’t much more he could learn from the area - after all, he had spent years mastering every subject and practice activity the Kaminoans could develop and throw at their cadets - but he enjoyed showing the Kaminoans that he could get inside. Their security measures were okay, for civilian stuff, but rudimentary considering that they had trained a literal army to do things like slice locks and break into high-security locations.

One night, Drift was walking through a darkened practice area - utterly lost in the mad tangle of sleepless thought - when a lurching fighter simulator almost crushed him.

It was a testament to his training that he even noticed it, soundless as it had been, but also that Drift was equally silent as he leapt out of the way and turned to study the machinery. It didn’t seem to be damaged or malfunctioning.

It was only then that he heard the slight gasp from inside, followed by a small laugh.

“Did I scare you?” a feminine voice asked, still bubbling with laughter.

A slightly shaking breath answered that, followed by the sound of Alpha’s voice. “I’m not scared of much, neverd’ika, but your flying skills are… a challenge.”

An offended gasp. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know that I am the safest pilot I know!”

“On Coruscant?” Drift grinned at the way he could hear the captain’s raised eyebrow. “That planet has a higher number of speeder collisions than the total population of most planets. Just because you’re the safest pilot youknow doesn’t mean you’re a safe pilot.”

“I’m an extremely safe pilot!” the administrator lectured, met by Alpha’s disbelieving snort. “I am! I’m just not used to flying military transport vehicles.”

“I know, that’s why we’re doing this,” Alpha reminded her.

She laughed again. “Alpha, I’m grateful you’re taking the time to do this, but honestly? If it ever comes down to a situation when I’m going to have to fly a military transport to live, I’m probably going to end up dying either way.”

“Not funny, little one,” Alpha growled.

Drift’s spine stiffened reflexively at that tone. The captain only used that voice when he was deathly serious about something… and there wasn’t an ARC trainee among them who didn’t listen when he did.

To his utter disbelief, she didn’t seem even slightly intimidated by the implicit threat in Alpha’s voice. “If you wanted funny, you should have caught me after a full night of sleep.”

“Yeah? When’s the last time you had one of those?”

She fell silent at that, and the quiet lasted long enough that even Drift got uncomfortable.

When the captain spoke again, it was with uncharacteristic gentleness. “It’ll get easier, neverd’ika. The nightmares fade.”

“So you tell me,” she agreed, her tone much less doubtful than the words would make it seem. “Well, since we’re awake, will you show me again how to fly this thing?”

“Yeah.”

When Drift engaged the lock on the practice cockpit, it was a half-hearted gesture at best, but one he made anyway. The simulator cockpits were small, but they were designed for a trainer and a cadet, so they boasted two seats. The locks on the simulators were flimsy and mass-produced, easy to break, and he started to leave the training area without a qualm when he heard the administrator speak.

“Wait, I- I thought I heard something. I’m going to check…” The door rattled, but not hard enough to snap the lock. Not yet, anyway. “We’re locked in. How did that happen?”

Alpha sighed. “That’s been happening a lot lately. Probably Drift.”

She laughed disbelievingly. “Drift? Alpha, you’ll find a way to blame him for anything.”

“And I’m not wrong,” Alpha grumbled. “Do you want me to break the lock? It’ll be easy enough.”

Drift’s tired muscles tensed, ready to launch into a full-speed run before they could leave the simulator and find him there.

The administrator eventually said, “I mean, there’s no rush. I’m sure someone who can help us will be by soon. We’ll keep working on this, right?”

“As long as you want,” Alpha promised.

Drift left them to spend time in the two-seater simulation cockpit, grinning to himself when he heard they had been released from it the next morning when one of the instructors had found them sharing the small space as they slept beside each other.

—

“So, men,” Monnk started before the ARC training for the day had begun. “What progress has everyone made?”

“What progress have youmade?” Drift countered. “I haven’t seen you around much.”

Monnk shrugged. “I’ve been doing little things here and there, but nothing too crazy. I don’t need the captain catching on.”

“None of us do,” Neyo affirmed. “Though some people could be doing more to distract the captain and keep his attention elsewhere.”

With that, he shot a glare at Bacara, who held up his hands in a palms-out gesture of innocence. “Hey, I’ve been doing plenty, especially for someone who isn’t really involved in any of this! Not my fault I’ve had to work harder keeping a certain cadet from sabotaging everyone else!”

“Cross, really?” Hunter asked, sounding exasperated, if not surprised. 

Crosshair shrugged. “No one wanted a betting system. I had to find some way to keep things interesting.”

That sent a generally dissatisfied murmur through the gathered ARCs-in-training and cadets, but no one seemed truly displeased.

“Well, all of my efforts turned bad,” Faie admitted.

“Mine, too,” Neyo agreed.

“A little progress for me, but not much,” Drift told them all.

Monnk sighed, rubbing at the space between his eyebrows. “Well, I think that settles it, then. We’ve done everything we can for them and it’s either worked or it hasn’t. They’ll just have to come to terms with their feelings on their own.”

“So we’re just going to stay out of everything?” Bacara asked carefully.

“Oh, kriff that!” Wrecker said. “We have to know what happens!”

“Definitely,” Neyo agreed with a decisive nod. “We’ll keep tabs on things, but no more interfering. Agreed?”

Everyone agreed, some more hesitantly than others, but the feeling of tension releasing was strong in the ARC training area. Whatever happened between Alor and Cabur happened, but it wouldn’t be directly caused by any of the cadets or future ARCs. 

It was something of a relief to all of them. War was easy, but romance? That was tricky, something best left to the professionals.

Whether Alpha could be considered one of those professionals remained to be seen.

—

Author’s Note - someone suggested this, and I’m pretty sure it was an anonymous ask, but I’m not 100% on it. Whoever you are, just know that your suggestion completely took over my brain! I hope you enjoyed your gigantic bonus chapter!

You can find other works on my masterlist or sign up for my taglist here.

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yavielin-feanarien:

My friend and I are currently setting up a discord server for Star Wars TCW role-playing games (RPG).

So far we’ve got a clone “commanders com-link” channel (much more will develop) and we’re looking for other commanders/CTs to join. ^^

If you’re interested in spontaneous and lighthearted RPG, please contact me.
It can be just role-playing, but were going to develop themes and arcs together.

Two main characters are already chosen (Fox and Neyo) - so there’s plenty of room for your development. We’re fine if you want to play your OCs.

The server will be a very safe place for Star Wars fans and it will be focused on our ongoing SW:TCW RPG. You don’t need any experience in RPG.

We welcome everyone who loves the Clone Wars series and the prequels, the clones, and decent and respectful contact to other fans and enthusiastic SW role-players. It will be strictly SFW. Your age should be 18+ nevertheless, since we’ll have adult content but nothing explicit.

If you are interested or if you want more information, you can contact me.

MTFBY, always

Kyra

Note: Much shorter, barely proofread, chapter as I ease myself back into writing. 

Also, nope, I have not read Star Wars: Obsession. Apologies and enjoy the very much non-canon fanfic. 

Warnings: Swearing, implications of violence, sexual references 

Word Count: 2,344

Chapter 4: Boz Pity

19.43 BBY

The artwork was crude. The paint smeared so heavily by one hand that even now, only hours after the final layer had dried, it had begun to flake and lift - yet applied so gently by another pair that one could barely discern that they were the same shade. The colouring was basic yet bold, then again Clone armour with maroon embellishments could only permit so much creativity - a steak of the most primary red enthusiastically plastered wherever possible.

That was one word for the gunship’s new design, creative. It was staggering really to see how much effort the men had mustered to commemorate their toughest victory yet, though Nalani still found herself reluctant to call it that. Surely a victory should yield less casualties?

Despite the despairing memories and the less than precise paintwork, Nalani could not fault the mural before her. It was a display of pride, triumph, teamwork and above all loyalty. The key indication of the latter being a lithe figure with fluorescently embellished pink skin and ink blue hair carrying an unconscious Clone over their shoulder, an aqua lightsabre in hand and a Mandalorian helm at its feet.

Nalani had to smile at that, the men certainly made it known that they appreciated her resolve to protect them on New Bornalex - even if they didn’t agree with it. Her Master quietly, finally, admitting during their last training session that he admired her tenacity, had also helped her make peace with what happened. That and, well, her conversation with the Marshal Commander several weeks ago hadn’t hurt either.

Ah,him. It was still easier to think of him as the Marshal, even in her own mind it felt far safer than to dare to call him Bacara. It was less intimate that way, more professional. It had become a bit of a game with them in some ways, using only their titles in and out of meetings - and always accompanied by a teasing lilt of rivalry. If her Master had noticed, he thankfully hadn’t thought it concerning enough to voice. Nalani was certainly extra thankful that her Master remained oblivious to the secret winks Bacara - no! The Marshal would shoot her way when he caught her staring. 

She still couldn’t quite figure him out. He was deathly serious in most instances yet, there was a boisterousness brewing beneath; a charming boyishness in both how he spoke to his more trusted brothers, and his never ending amusement in winding her up. He was excellent at repressing that side of himself, though when he scolded the troops for getting particularly rowdy during their down time, she had learned to find that twinkle of humour within his otherwise disapproving eyes.

A slight flicker of the searing hanger lights, not unlike that glimmer of mischief she had begrudgingly come to crave, drew her attention to their largest gunship. Nalani snickered in the most un-Jedi-like way when her gaze landed on both the best, worst and only painting of her Marshal Commander that she had ever seen. It was magnificent, horrifyingly hilarious with barely a shred of accuracy. Atop a scrap pile of discarded droids was a bare-chested Bacara, otherwise in full armour, his kama billowing amid a blaze of red, yellow and green destruction. The portrait’s arms were in the process of ripping a droid’s head from the torso with his bare hands above his shoulders. Try as she might to compose herself, the more Nalani fought to tear her gaze from the image, the more details she would find. Her shoulders trembled with barely contained giggles at the limp droid hand clenched between some crudely drawn, jagged teeth on the Commander’s helmet. Lastly, she spotted a  swooshing arrow between his bare shoulders, gesturing between the image and some scrawled text reading “Commander, Thunder-Guns, Bacara,” Nalani’s resolve cracked.

Her laughter, which could only be described as cackling truly, turned a few heads as her uncharacteristic glee echoed against the durasteel walls, only subsiding at the interruption of a low gravel grazing her left ear. 

“I’m not sure if I approve or not.” Bacara murmured as he emerged beside her, remaining ever so slightly behind her left shoulder. It was quite possible that he knew that she could feel the ever present heat rolling off of him against her back, purposefully igniting goose bumps as his breath fanned over the back of her neck. She ignored the bait. 

With a carefree glance over her shoulder, amusement still on full display, Nalani met his amber eyes with her own amethysts. “Are you trying to tell me that’s not what happened?” 

“Huh.” He huffed, his own laugh threatening to escape. “Jet certainly would have approved.” 

A few weeks ago, the mere mention of Jet’s sacrifice likely would have sent her spiralling in fits of both remorse and anger, now time and reflection were the young padawan’s allies; they eased the path of acceptance. That’s not to say it didn’t still sting, and the immiscible flinch Nalani failed to repress caught the Marshal’s attention. 

“You know.” He spoke, softer than usual. “Humour can often be a brother’s best weapon; if we can find it in us to laugh amidst tragedy, we haven’t lost the war yet.”

It wasn’t often Nalani found Bacara sombre. Stern, serious, even menacing - yes, but never sombre. There was truth in his words though, a truth that she had come to recognise first hand: that while the men’s humour could be loud and downright crude sometimes; it never failed to lighten her mood. Since the aftermath of New Bornalex, both Commander and soldiers seemed to have found a common approachableness and almost comfort within each other’s presence. It soothed a loneliness with Nalani’s life she hadn’t previously acknowledged.

Bacara’s words had their desired effect, and Nalani found herself smirking before responding dryly. “I didn’t realise you were quite so profound, Sir.” She cast a look over her freckled shoulder, meeting his crinkled gaze. “I’m not sure it suits you.”

Bacara huffed a laugh before taking a single step forward, placing them side by side. “I’d warn you to keep it quiet, but no one would believe you anyway.”

A flash of white teeth against magenta lips betrayed a genuine smile that she knew Bacara returned without looking. She sensed him quickly straighten, glancing behind them briefly before lowering his voice. “You’re easier now.” He uttered, neither of them turning to face the other. “It’s like you’re finally comfortable in your own skin.”

The air suddenly felt still as the sound of munitions trolleys screeching, soldier’s banter and machinery faded into nothing. More goose bumps pricked up from the tender hairs on her arms, nothing to do with the chill of recycled air. He must have bowed his head to murmur his next words, as his breath grazed the shell of her ear, caressing the curve before sloping down the lobe. “Who knew a bit of release is all it took?”

If Nalani were a lesser person, one not so well versed in decorum, she would have cheered aloud at her ability to conjure her response - one laced with disinterested aloofness. Praying that he didn’t notice her nervously swallow, or the twitch of her brow, she faced his expectant gaze with a scoff. “Are you seriously suggesting that sex is the answer to all of my problems?” 

Clearly, this was the rise Bacara wanted from her because he quickly barked a laugh so snappish and loud that several heads shot in its direction before retreating. Somehow, he stepped even closer, and Nalani had to resist the urge to triple check nobody was looking at them. “No.” He clarified. “But, if it helps…ease certain stresses?”

Oh it did. It really, really did. She knew that her personal and professional development had nothing to with their…sparring match, confused as she may be, she was certain that she was shaping that herself but force, it did help her forget her burdens while it lasted.  

“Maybe.” She smirked.

“Then we have an arrangement.”  He replied simply, brown lips parting once more is a positively dashing smile.

Did they? It was less a situation of could they and more one of should they…again. She wanted to. She found herself craving it since the incident and, no matter how much she tried, nothing she did in the privacy of quarters could replicate the thrill he instilled in her; satiate the curiosity of how those events may play out with their roles reversed. Plus, he spoke some truth - it did ease tension, instilling a bliss and contentedness that hours of meditation could barely touch.

“I suppose we do.” Nalani admitted, fighting the urge to exhale with relief after her short, agonising deliberation, instead she sculpted her expression into one of relaxed determination. “So, when can I repay the favour? 

Bacara’s eyes brightened like the combustion of a supernova even as they narrowed to regard her seriously. “We get out of this next mission alive, and you can do whatever you want to me.”

[Break]

The mission in question, while most definitely not the worst yet, did in fact, make her personal top ten of absolute shambles. Even if it was, technically, another victory.

During her years serving at the temple Nalani had heard more than her fair share of complaints about General Skywalker’s recklessness - more often than not coupled with sympathy for the more esteemed General Kenobi. Even in The Temple med-bay, she had witnessed Master Windu verbally dress down the former as he visited a trooper’s bedside. That trooper in question had rendered her into a fit of barely concealed snorts as he flicked his brows towards the squabble then back to her with a dramatic roll of his eyes. He was annoying, loud and constantly instigating scenarios that could only be referred to as complete and utter farcicals, but she often wondered how he was; the trooper with the single number five tattooed on his temple. She wondered if he was still alive. 

She forcefully shook that line of thinking from her head. 

Since physically entering the war, Nalani had come to realise Skywalker wasn’t to blame, Kenobi was just as bad - if not worse - he was just better at hiding it. So when the aforementioned General proposed sneaking a full-sized Venator-Class Star Destroyer through an active blockade, she should have been less surprised. 

She should have been even less surprised when the same Star Destroyer, piloted by General Skywalker, crash landed directly into an active battlefield. 

It was carnage, it was bloody, and the gains were minimal. Grievous’ main assault retreated, Ventress (who apparently is definitely still alive) escaped and Doku was never there to begin with. So while her master engaged in an unexpected kill count contest with Generals Skywalker and Kenobi, Nalani found herself hanging back with her troops, failing to hide the irk in her brows. 

[Break]

Espionage was not Nalani’s idea of warfare, and it certainly wasn’t Bacara’s. The whole incident had rattled him, and despite observing him from afar, she could see that he was doing a poor job at hiding it.

The debrief dragged on, but Nalani had hoped for the post-report reunion with Marshal Commander Cody, Captain Rex and the one who called himself Alpha to quell Bacara’s annoyance - and it did, when it was just Rex and Cody. However, the second Alpha had hulked up to the trio with a clenched smile, Bacara’s shoulders tightened so harshly that Nalani almost swore she heard fresh knots pop from the muscles.

Alpha was unlike any Clone she has ever seen, for a start he was old - positively ancient compared to the majority of men she worked with. She would place his scarred features at about 50-60 years of age, which would technically make him about 25 at the least; a whole 10 years older than Bacara claimed to be. Alpha also exerted a sense of untouchable superiority she would never expect from an ARC trooper in the face of two Marshals, let alone one so decorated as Cody. 

Cody and Bacara reverted to clipped, formal answers when speaking with the hardened ARC, their stances at ease only in the most militaristic of senses where Rex could hardly look him in the eye. The whole room was fogged in an anxious yellow. 

As Alpha excused himself, after nodding once in Nalani’s direction, the fog stilled before gradually dissipating into a dull white tension. Rex, who until this encounter had only displayed the bravest professionalism, exhaled and looked hopefully to Cody. Cody in turn, made both of their goodbyes and marched Rex back to their transport.

Bacara almost looked as though he were in a trance. He bade farewell to his brothers, offering a goodbye and a promise of some drinks at a bar of which she had already forgotten the name of, but he blinked too slowly, his hands trembling minutely as he scrubbed at the coarse hair of his jaw. 

Nalani found herself approaching cautiously, as one would a wounded animal, totally unused to even the slightest hint of vulnerability within her Marshal Commander. She was fearful, not of him, but the thought of him shutting off from her completely, sending the bridge they’d built to timbre. 

Sympathy wasn’t something she lacked, but she knew that her inability to connect with people made her attempts to be soothing come across as harsh; and often somewhat patronising. The latter certainly not something she anticipated Bacara to react well to. Perhaps, she mused it was best to ignore the nervousness and simmering anger and just try to be helpful. Yeah, she could be helpful. 

“So…” she trailed softly, startling Bacara as he suddenly remembered where he was and shot his blearly, red eyes to hers. “Would you like a back rub?”

Bacara looked confused for the briefest of moments, before a broad, chapped grin broke across his face. “Level 3, room 38. 21:00.” He said, briefly tapping her on the shoulder before making his way over to the mess. 

Masterlist

Tag List: @sugarpuffsstuff@queencousland101

comradewolfe:

Anyone want a new sneak peak of my newest Clone Predator crossover?

This one is going to be an Alien VS predator, but where the predator is teamed up with Delta squad, Bacara, ki-adi-mundi and his men!