On Dec. 18th I’ve started a role play game server on discord as I have informed you previously.
So far we’ve seen great progress and there are quite a few active players. A small but very harmonious community has grown that inspires each other creatively.
We have skilled fanfiction authors who in particular enjoy the multiple possibilities for developing their OCs.
There is a main story line that is quite serious business, and the plot that is developing is already now much better than some stuff that’s launched by official sources.. ;D We create the plot together in an associated brainstorming channel.
We also have various off-topic RPG channels that are used for free play and fun.
The RPG is ongoing and not connected to certain times, which is easily manageable, since it’s exclusively written. There’s no pressure to participate, we’re all working hard but party even harder.
If you are interested in what we do, you can ask me here or on discord (Commander Neyo#8826). Perhaps you would be down to play one or multiple OCs or also a canonical character; several clones and Jedi are still available. Max Rebo is still free as well. ^^
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.
Neyo didn’t think much of funerals, the dead were dead, no need to drag it out.
But, then why did he feel such anguish at the sight of the little Jedi’s body? He didn’t know Master Piel enough to feel remorse, no. The churning in Neyo’s guts stemmed from hours of enduring nameless, nameless because nobody cared to remember, brothers falling in heaps without so much as a backwards glance. No one cried when Charger fell, no-one carried Longshot’s body, no one offered a prayer for Echo as they wrapped Piels body in tarp.
Once again, grief was a luxury Clones like Neyo couldn’t afford but, perhaps most damningly, a concept that Clones like Rex and Fives weren’t even permitted.
Neyo could tell himself he was the way he was by choice, at the very least maybe it was too late to change. Yet, Cody, Fives, Rex? They deserved better.
…
Notes: This is my way of saying, unofficially, that I have resumed writing.
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Developing Relationship, Post-Canon, Domestic, Inspired By Soft Wars Series - Project0506
Years ago, CC-8826 slid (sliced) into the DMs of a CT in ARC training. Sure, it was the wrong CT, but you win some, you lose some.
Funny story, when I read soft wars for the first time, it was in a custom order, curated specifically to lure me into an emotional pit trap and shove me into a new fandom. It worked. But a fun quirk was that in the order I read, I met Keeli much earlier than I met Vaughn. Vaughn’s lovely, but I really, really thought that Neyo and Keeli were making their way through a slow-burn relationship, paralleling Rex and Bacara. That wasn’t the case, but the idea haunted me, so… here we are! I tried to include reference links for some of the details that these short fics call back to, haha. I may add more later, but I wanted to get this online before the verse has it’s two-year anniversary at the end of the month, and I’m glad to finally be sharing!
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
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!”
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.”
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.”
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.
Dimly, Alpha was aware of the cadets springing into action. Crosshair started firing at the mass of droids, every shot resulting in another droid hitting the ground. Tech tapped frantically at his datapad, muttering about diverting any droid reinforcements. Hunter reached to pull a pair of vibroblades from a belt looped around his waist, throwing them at the super battle droids in the area. Wrecker bowled a piece of Kaminoan lab equipment from across the room, knocking down over a dozen.
All of this was recognized as if over a great distance. The majority of Alpha’s focus was stolen by Ventress and the hold she had on Colt.
Colt was a good man. He oversaw Alpha’s work with the ARCs and while Alpha normally would have resented the supervision, Colt had been one of his earliest trainees.
Commander Colt had been skittish as a trainee and a bit clumsy, but energetic and headstrong. He had earned the name when another trainee had laughingly compared him to a fathier colt - wobbly, uncertain, fast, and unbelievably stubborn. He had grown into his energy, though - become one of the hardest-working troopers Alpha had ever met. If Colt didn’t know something, he worked until he figured it out, and he was never reluctant to ask questions when someone knew more than he did.
Yes, Colt was a good man, a strong commander, and a favorite vod. Alpha couldn’t let Colt die, especially not the same way he had almost died on that failure of a mission.
Even if the thought of seeing those cold eyes and that disgusted sneer made his jaw clench until it ached.
Since the title of this is half of a Mando'a phrase, I had to dissect the phrase as I tried to figure out exactly which words I needed. And, since I think better when I physically write things down, there has just been a piece of paper with different versions of ‘Haatyc or'arue jate'shya ori'sol aru'ike nuhaatyc’ on my couch since this chapter was posted.
Tidiness really isn’t my strong suit, as you can guess.
Alpha turned toward the door, letting his displeasure show on his face as he threw an unimpressed look at the extremely late ARC-in-training. “Drift, you were supposed to be back ten minutes ago. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t have you spend the rest of the afternoon making it up to me.”
“That’s not important right now!” Drift rushed out, pointing toward the door. “You have to-”
Alpha felt his eyebrows furrow with incredulity. “You show up late, you’re not even in the right gear, and now you think I’m gonna let you tell me what to do? I’m your Captain, Drift, and if you can’t learn to shut up and take orders-”
“Something’s wrong with her,” Drift insisted.
Immediately, a sickly sense of foreboding filled Alpha. There were plenty of females who worked in Tipoca City. Drift could be talking about Trem, one of the other trainers. Maybe something had happened to General Ti when Drift was there to witness it. It wasn’t necessarily something having to do with you…
With a careful show of wry indulgence, Alpha asked, “What is wrong with who?”
“Who do you think?” Drift sounded as impatient as ever. “Your adviser. I don’t know what happened, but… It looks bad. Really bad.”
Tension filled Alpha’s muscles, readying him to go fight something. “Bad how?”
“I don’t know,” Drift admitted, but before Alpha could write it off as another Drift-based waste of time, he added, “but she was definitely crying.”
Crying? You were crying?Alpha had seen you frustrated beyond measure. He had witnessed you working fourteen hours on three hours of sleep, seen you get waylaid by too many groups of cadets when you finally tried to return to your quarters, and stood by you while you were slowly lectured by the Kaminoans. Without fail, you had accepted those situations with professionalism and cheerful grace. It was ridiculous and far beyond what anyone had asked of you, but the idea of you straying from such a strong pattern had him on-edge.
Beyond the all-encompassing hum of his frantic thoughts, Alpha noted that the ARC training area had gotten quiet. He glanced around to find that every pair of eyes was fixed on Drift and himself. Alpha wasn’t shocked - these men had been chosen due to their instincts, and he had been working to hone those instincts throughout all of their training. If there was trouble in the nearby vicinity, these ARCs would spot it and do what they could to neutralize it before anything bad could happen.
Of course, in this case, something bad had apparently already happened, and none of the men were happy about it.
You weren’t quite a regular in the training area, not yet, but you were well on your way to it. You had visited often enough to have formed small friendships with several of the future ARCs, and even those who didn’t have a bond with you respected you anyway.
“You know, Captain,” Neyo said, rotating his shoulder. “I think I may have pushed myself a little too hard yesterday. Mind if I take a few extra minutes to get a deeper stretch?”
“Yeah, me too,” Monnk pitched in, bending his knee and giving a dramatic wince as it neared full extension. “I think I may pull something if I try to start training right now. I need a little while.”
“And I think I forgot my workout shorts in the bunk,” Drift reported, putting his hands in the pockets of the workout shorts he was wearing. “I’ll need a few minutes to go get them.”
“Sure,” Alpha replied, filled with gratitude for his trainees. “How long do you men think you’ll need?”
“As long as it takes,” Faie told him steadily. “Neutralize the threats and make sure the area is secure before you move on to other tasks, right?”
“That’s the first lesson,” Alpha agreed, glancing around at the slight smiles scattered around the room. “What are you men waiting for? Start your stretches. Drift, get your karkin’ workout shorts before I write you up for breaking appearance regulations.”
“Sir!” the men said in unison, snapping an identical salute as Alpha left the training area.
His stride started off typical for him - purposeful, measured, steady. But then, Alpha started to think about what might have happened that could affect you so strongly. You were atin’la, tough. Strong.
His pace picked up slightly.
You worked hard, were persistent and dedicated, even to something as minor as a report for the karking Republic.
He started walking even faster.
He didn’t know exactly what was going on, but he knew he didn’t like it.
He broke into a light jog.
If you weren’t one to break down over something minor, logic would dictate that you were breaking down over something major. But what could be major enough to make you lose control of your emotions? Something outside of yourself, more than likely. Someone. Were you being harassed by someone? He knew about your supervisor, the di’kut, and you hadn’t said anything about her lately. So that would imply it was someone new. Was someone bothering you? Bothering you badly enough that you were breaking down over it but you hadn’t told him about it.
Since he was already jogging, it wouldn’t be out of the question for him to run, right? It wasn’t like anyone was going to stop him. Alpha snorted to himself. Let any of the kaminiitry to stop him. He was wearing full armor and had both blaster pistols strapped to his sides. If someone got in his way, there were a dozen ways he could make them back off without breaking the steady rhythm of his steps.
Was someone threatening you?
Alpha knew this place well enough to commit a murder without being caught.
Before he knew what was happening, Alpha had reached your office. Quick arrival times tended to happen when someone was running full-tilt to their destination. He was holding a blaster pistol and couldn’t remember when he had pulled it, but he didn’t put it away. What if the di’kut threatening you was in the office just then?
He didn’t want to take the time to knock, so he punched in your code and barely let the door slide open before he had pushed his way inside. You were standing halfway between your desk and the door.
Alpha didn’t even think - he was in the room and scanning his surroundings before he could finish processing the fact that you had clearly been crying. “What’s happening? What’s wrong?”
The room was empty other than you, but your voice still sounded weak and reedy, distraught. Alpha wanted - needed - to comfort you, but there could still be a potential threat in the area. His training told him that dealing with that threat took priority over everything else, but his gut was ordering him to take care of you, too.
He couldn’t say he was fully aware of the way his free hand reached out to grab your shoulder and pull you against him, but he honestly thought it was a fair compromise. Especially when you fit so comfortably against his side and under his arm, allowing him to continue searching the room for something out of place.
When you pulled away, Alpha felt the loss of you against his side like a cold chill. “Alpha, it’s fine. There’s no threat. Everything is good.”
“Clearly,” he said with a frown. Your eyes and nose were puffy and your lips were chapped. Your voice was more of a croak than he had ever heard it and you sounded miserable. “Drift said I needed to get over here, that something was wrong.”
You smiled, and it even looked like there was a glimmer of happiness caught in it. “Nothing you can shoot.”
He would see about that, but Alpha still holstered his blaster and removed his helmet. He could always get ready again. He crossed his arms. “So what’s with the waterworks?"
The flash of disbelief on your face was the first hint that he had said something wrong.
“Excuse me?” you asked, sounding insulted.
Oh, yeah. Civvies weren’t like clones. He couldn’t talk to you that way, not if he didn’t want you to hate him.
He really didn’t want you to hate him.
“Sorry, habit from the cadets. What has you so upset?”
“I-” you started, blinking too fast. Alpha was trying to figure out what was happening when he caught the shine in your eyes. It was too bright to be anger, too intense to be pain or weariness. Were you… crying? “I have to-”
“Hey,” Alpha said desperately hoping to keep you from breaking down. “Whatever it is, it’s not as bad as all that.”
Your face crumpled and Alpha’s heart lurched. He caught a glimpse of the tears streaking down your cheeks before you turned away, lifting your hands to hide it from him.
He couldn’t let you do that - struggle in silence in an effort to make things easier for him. He rested a hand on your shoulder, wondering for a moment how you could be so small, so delicate compared to him.
“Don’t-” he started, voice breaking slightly as he tried to fix whatever had gone wrong. “Don’t hide. Come back here. Please don’t cry, neverd’ika.”
You didn’t push his hand away. Alpha took that as a good sign and used it to gently pull you around… and if he moved you a little closer at the same time, who could really blame him?
To his shock, you didn’t stop when he stopped pulling you in his direction. Instead, you kept moving toward him, pressing yourself against his chest. Alpha’s arms wrapped around you, his instincts forcing the best possible result even as he was staggered by how you felt in his arms.
Even through the heavy plastoid of his armor, you feltrightthere.
And then you started to sob in earnest and Alpha’s full attention was absorbed by comforting you. Well, not his full attention. A solid percent of it was being used to wonder what thekriff was happening and how he could exact bloody revenge on whoever had upset you so badly.
Finally, your tears slowed. For your sake, Alpha tried not to sound too murderous as he asked, "Are you finally going to tell me what’s wrong?"
"They’re sending me away,” you said, chilling the marrow of Alpha’s bones. “I leave for Coruscant tomorrow.”
“Who is?” Alpha asked, the blood roaring so loudly in his ears that he could scarcely hear his own voice. “Who decided to send you back?”
You looked away. “Technically speaking, I did.”
And, just like that, Alpha went blank. If you had agreed to this, chosen this… it meant he wasn’t - your friendship wasn’t as important to you as it was to him.
Alpha wanted to shout with frustration. Of course this wasn’t as important to you. You were a nat-born, and since when had any clone mattered to a nattie? It was better this way, he decided. He could cut you out of his life, destroy this developing weakness before it took full root. Without you, he could be strong again.
Forcing a bland, carefree tone, Alpha said, “Well, at least you got what you wanted. I’m sure you had your reasons.”
“…I did,” you said, sounding unsure. Who were you really trying to convince? “I can’t finish the report by the Republic’s deadline, and that could impact the war effort-”
“You don’t need to explain yourself to me. You don’t owe me anything.” Alpha grimaced. What could he really accomplish here? It would be better to simply leave. “In fact, I should probably get back to work.”
He hasn’t crossed half the distance to the door before your voice rang out from behind him. “No!"
Alpha stopped, glancing back at you despite himself as you took a moment to gather your thoughts.
"I do owe you something, Alpha,” you explained haltingly. “I owe you a lot. You’re the only friend I have here, the only reason I made it this far. I may miss a few things about Kamino, but I’ll miss you most of all.”
Your voice cracked sharply as you finished, but you didn’t look away. You held his gaze, brave little thing that you were
“If you’ll-” Alpha interrupted himself to clear his throat so his voice would go the same way yours had. “You’llmiss me so much, why did you offer to leave?"
"Brid- she’s my supervisor, she told me that I am slowing down the Republic response by not completing my work on time. If I keep missing deadlines, it could hurt the war effort. I can’t let troopers die- I can’t let yourbrothers die because I wanted to be the one who did this assignment! I could never live with myself, Alpha.”
By the time you stopped explaining yourself, you were meeting his eyes straight-on, full of determination and sadness.
He was floating. One of the jetii had to be doing something to him that made him feel like he was floating. That was the only reason Alpha could think of that he felt so light. You weren’t leaving Kamino because you didn’t care about the men. You were leaving because you cared too much. That was far more in-line with everything he knew about you, and the receding sting of betrayal helped him realize that he had likely overreacted.
Alpha crossed his arms over his chest, trying to disguise the overwhelming surge of unfamiliar emotion. “So your supervisor twisted the vibroblade and you, in a bout of patriotism, decided to leave the assignment you want and the recognition you deserve. Do I have that right?”
You looked irritated, but it was better than sad. Anything was better than sad. “A ‘bout of patriotism’? By not wanting to sentence countless soldiers to death because I can’t work as quickly as the Republic needs? I don’t think that makes me a fool, Alpha, I think it makes me someone with a conscience!”
“Simmer down, neverd’ika,” Alpha told you, laughing with how incredibly light he still felt. That was apparent in the way he forgot himself and pulled you back toward him when he had sworn never to touch you. “You’re a fiery little thing today.”
Maybe this was a dream. The beginning had reminded him more of a nightmare, but the way you willingly went into his arms and leaned against him like you belonged there was definitely dream material. Despite that sweetness, you glared up at him, gaze full of reproach.
“How am I supposed to act? This might be the last day I ever see you and you’re acting like… like a…”
“A what, little one?” Alpha asked, trying not to laugh aloud and offend you worse.
“Adi’kut,” you spat out.
Alpha could have been knocked over by a shiny. For you to push back at him was rare - normally reserved for the times when he had pushed the teasing far further than was wise - but to hear you speak Mando’a? It affected him in… unexpected ways.
“Where did you learn that one?” he finally asked.
“You say it often enough! I’m not a complete fool,” you said, wrinkling your nose at him. “I canmanage to pick up on simple vocabulary.”
Well, that had never been in question. “Of course you can. I know how smart you are. But not smart enough.”
A little crease appeared between your brows, as if you were worried he really didn’t think you were very intelligent. You tried to disguise it with a dark look, but he saw right through you. Alpha always saw right through you - after all, he had enough practice looking.
He smiled, offering an explanation before you could get too concerned. “You haven’t realized yet that I’ll miss you at least as much as you’ll miss me. You also haven’t realized that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to see you again. I’ll take missions off-planet, anywhere close to the Triple Zero, and I’ve got enough rank to make sure we stop there for refuels.”
“But…” you trailed, clearly searching for words. Alpha waited patiently for you to find them. “But you hate Coruscant. You said it’s the armpit of the galaxy.”
Alpha recognized the slight pause before ‘armpit’, internally laughing at your attempt to make his statement more appropriate. “Wrong again. I said it was the sheb-”
Your eyes widened comically. “I was editing for professionalism! But you’d be willing to come there for me?”
“Of course,” Alpha said instantly, no time for thought. “We’re friends, remember? But you’d better tell me if you plan to move to a different planet so I can change which missions I’ll accept.”
“Do they let you choose?”
“They let me. Kenobi made sure of it,” Alpha told you, unable to erase the smugness from his tone. “I get to choose which missions I’ll go on. I’ve been instructing for so long that they don’t ask me often, but if I put out some notice that I’m looking for Inner Rim missions…”
“It would be amazing to see you! I’ll be on Coruscant for a while, unfortunately. It’ll take me a bit to re-earn the faith of my supervisors, so I’ll be stuck planetside for the foreseeable future.”
You looked so cheerful that Alpha felt guilty bringing your mood back down, but he had a serious question. “You’re sure they aren’t going to punish you for leaving the job?”
“I don’t think so. Brid didn’t say anything about a demotion or reprimand.”
That was far less certain than Alpha would have preferred, but he nodded anyway. “It sounds like the best possible way for you to leave. I don’t like it, but if you think it’s the right move, I trust you.”
That was the truth, he reflected with no small amount of shock. He did trust you, implicitly. That alone threw him off slightly. He trusted a civilian? Alpha? What had things come to that he was trusting a nat-born civvie? But even with that unpleasant realization, Alpha couldn’t bring himself to regret it. He trusted you, and he wasn’t going to talk himself out of it based on something as minor as your background or what the old him would have done.
His focus shifted back to the conversation as you spoke again: “I don’t want to go. This isn’t a choice I would make if I didn’t have to.”
And there was the problem. If you had chosen to leave, it would have been unpleasant, but seeing you forced off of Kamino was something Alpha struggled to reconcile himself with. There was a feeling of irritation that bureaucrats on Coruscant could determine something that took place in a world they were unfamiliar with, but… it was more than that. Alpha’s gut was telling him that something more was happening here. Something deeper.
The long-range transmitter rang and you straightened, jerking away from him as a by-product of that movement. “It’s Brid. She’s got some forms I need to fill out before I leave. You can stay if you want, just back up a bit so she won’t be able to see you.”
Alpha almost left. He would be no good to you in this situation and the least he could offer you was the privacy to finish conducting your affairs. But that feeling in his gut… Alpha stayed where he was, taking two steps backward and sitting down in the chair as part of your instructions, but going no further.
You sat in your chair and took a breath. That air of professionalism settled around you like you had put on a cloak, then you answered the call. “Supervisor Brid.”
“Administrator,” the holo-projected female replied. Alpha surveyed her with distaste and disdain. “I trust you’ve finished preparing the report for your replacement?”
“Yes, Supervisor,” you said agreeably. “I have loaded it onto the datapads, and I will gladly answer any questions they may have about my work up to this point.”
Brid grimaced coldly. “We will see about further contact. I’m transmitting the proper documents to your datapad now. As soon as these are filled out, we can consider this situation rectified.”
You looked at your datapad, eyes scanning down the screen. That crease reappeared between your eyebrows and Alpha’s gut tightened. Something was wrong. You reread the document, then glanced up at the holoimage of your boss.
“Is something the matter, administrator?” Brid asked, and Alpha longed to put a fist through her face… preferably in a form that wascorporeal.
“These are forms for my resignation from the Senate workforce,” you said quietly, displaying the screen of your datapad to the holo-transmitter.
The supervisor gave a short laugh. “And you are confused by this outcome? Surely you didn’t believe we would continue to allow you to work for us after failing to meet a deadline on such a major project?”
Alpha stood so quickly that the chair bounced up on two legs. He took a step toward the transmitter. Maybe he couldn’t physically touch Brid, but a threat could be just as effective. As if she sensed the danger, the semi-transparent form of the supervisor turned, but you spoke before she could catch a glimpse of the pissed off ARC captain who intended to beat her to a bloody stain on the durasteel ground of her Coruscant office.
“I will need some time to look this over, Supervisor,” you hastily told her.
“I am extremely aware that speed in paperwork is not in your skill set.” Alpha’s jaw clenched at the additional insult. “Rather than be placed on hold indefinitely, I will contact you again in a few minutes.”
Alpha lost his grip on his temper, striding forward quickly in hopes that his threatening form would be the last thing she saw before the transmission cut. Nat-borns seemed to find his larger-than-average stature and heavy muscle intimidating. He hoped that was true for Brid.
Before he got to his intended destination, the transmission cut off.
Alpha’s rage rose up around him until it was roaring in his ears and dimming his sight as he looked at you. “You let that hut’uun,chaavlashabuir speak to you that way?”
“I don’t enjoy being around her, but among Senate supervisors, she’s not the worst.”
Your easy tone and casual shrug made Alpha stare, but you were looking at the datapad. Hands shaking with anger, Alpha reached out and plucked the datapad from your grip, holding it above his head and safely away from you.
“You cannot sign this. I won’t let you.”
Your shoulder slumped slightly. “I don’t like that I’m going to lose this job, but none of my reasons have changed. What kind of person would I be to put lives on the line for a job?”
“The kind of person who understands that soldiers are going to fight and die no matter how quickly that report is written!” Your expression shuttered slightly and Alpha leaned down in an attempt to get your attention. He had to explain things to you, had to reach you before you made a decision and it was too late. “Listen, cyare, I’ve seen the kind of information you’re collecting in that report of yours, and none of it is vital enough that the Republic will stop mobilizing soldiers. The report is Senate busywork, something some mir’shebinvented so that the GAR could make battle plans without worrying about the kriffing senators breathing down their necks.”
You didn’t look convinced, so Alpha continued his explanation. “You want proof? Look how quickly they mobilized us for Geonosis. Every fully-trained vod went out for that campaign, and the Republic didn’t know anything more about us than that we were here and they needed people.”
You frowned. “What exactly are you saying, Alpha?”
“I’m saying…” Alpha blew out a breath, coming to a conclusion and knowing with every instinct he had that it was correct. “Someone wants you off of this project. I don’t know if it’s Brid or someone over her head, but that line about impacting the war effort? That’s a pile of osik. It’s impossible.”
“I get what you’re saying, but-”
“But trust the instincts of a soldier,” Alpha insisted, resting his hands on your shoulders so he could use infinite care to shake you back and forth. “Trust myinstincts. Something is off here and you’re being lied to. Don’t sign that resignation.”
You thought about that for a moment. When you spoke, your voice was tight. “What… What if it is true, though? What if I’m just not enough for the project? For the job? For anything?”
“I never want to hear you say that again,” Alpha ordered, accidentally using his Captain Voice with you. “You’re enough for all of it. I’ve watched you pour everything you have into this report. No one else can write it the way you can. The reason you want to quit is the same reason you need to stay.”
You looked unconvinced and Alpha sighed, trying to find a better way to phrase it. “You think you have to leave to protect my brothers, but the best way to do that is to stay. You care about us clones, so you’re writing a real report instead of writing a list of our specs. The information you’re requesting from Kaminoans and the trainers is completely different from what the Republic anticipated. The general mentions that every time it comes up.”
“You and General Ti talk about me?” you asked, clearly shocked.
Alpha stifled the urge to roll his eyes. This was Kamino - what else was there to talk about? “All the time. Especially a few weeks ago, when this really bossy Republic administrator told me I had to give the general my new comlink frequency.”
You smiled - finally reallysmiled - but the transmitter notified you of an incoming call and the joy disappeared again. You reached for the datapad and Alpha let you have it. He had done everything he could to convince you to stay. There was nothing more he could do, unless he wanted to try to force you to stay. Though that idea wasn’t the worst he had ever had…
You accepted the call, letting the holoprojection of your supervisor appear and fold her arms. “Was that enough time for you, administrator?”
“It was plenty,” you told her, sounding fully professional once more. “In fact, just long enough for me to decide that I won’t be leaving. I started this report and I intend to finish it.”
“Your resignation was not optional-”
“If my resignation were not optional, you wouldn’t need me to fill out the form. In fact, you never would have given me the option. You would have fired me this morning in Nala Se’s office. You need me to sign this resignation.”
It was a testament to how self-assured you sounded that Alpha stopped his journey around your desk.
“I was trying to give you a graceful exit,” the supervisor snapped. “If you refuse to sign the resignation form, I will have no choice but to terminate your employment.”
Your voice got, if possible, less concerned. “You can’t. In the Senate workforce contract - updated and validated last year - the Republic refreshed and strengthened their employee work protection standards under Article 14, Subsection B, Subheading: Deadlines, Timelines, and Work Hour Requirements.”
Alpha was fully lost as you continued to list off the rules and regulations that governed your job and Brid’s. But he knew enough to understand exactly what was happening: you were putting Brid in her place, neatly and professionally, but without leaving room for misunderstanding. Brid tried to get the last word, insisting that you leave anyway, but you refused, naming another solid reason. You shut down Brid’s final attempt and watched peacefully as your supervisor cut the transmission.
He had a stupid look on his face, Alpha knew he did, but he didn’t really care. “That’s my smart neverd’ika.”
You smiled at him, but your eyes were thoughtful. “You called me something else earlier. What was it?”
Haar’chak, had he said something stupid out loud? Surely he hadn’t… Maybe he had…
Alpha’s perfect memory provided him what he was looking for: Listen,cyare, I’ve seen the kind of information you’re collecting…
Beloved.
He had called you beloved.
It had been an abstract form of endearment for most of his life, vaguely floating around when he thought of you, but he hadn’t ever said it out loud.
Until, apparently, that day.
The only thing to do was bluff. “Did I? Do you remember the word?”
You watched him for a moment while Alpha waited with his heart in his mouth. “No. I don’t. It sounded nice, though.”
The relief was so strong that Alpha stood, giving a wordless grunt to disguise his self-censure. “You’re done with work for the day, right?”
It was only when you smiled at him that he realized he was wearing a stupid-looking grin. “Yes, I am. I have a feeling that I won’t get far from here. Besides, I think I’ll wait to see how much the Republic moves my timeline before I dive into the next section.”
“Good. I have something to show you.”
Alpha left your office without another word, worried he would say something stupid if he said anything at all. You followed him without asking any questions. When he finally reached the place he had in mind, he opened the door and guided you outside ahead of him with only the slightest press against your arm.
You crossed the threshold, staring around curiously before you gave a loud gasp. Alpha smiled to himself, satisfied that he had found something you would enjoy. It was a low-hanging balcony that gave a great view of Kamino’s oceans around the stilts of Tipoca City. The sun was even occasionally shining from behind the clouds. This was the best possible day he could have brought you here and - though he had thought about this moment often - Alpha was glad this was the day it finally happened.
He stepped out onto the balcony behind you, struggling to share the tiny space with you and not overwhelm you with his much larger form. When you turned your head to look at him, Alpha half-expected you to ask him to back up or tell him that you were uncomfortable.
Instead, you smiled, knocking Alpha’s breath away immediately.
“Alpha, this is amazing! How did you find this?”
Producing a snort when he was so out of breath was difficult, but Alpha managed. “I’ve lived on Kamino most of my life. There isn’t an inch of this compound that I haven’t explored. This is the best place to just… get some distance.”
He moved a little closer, hardly able to believe that he was pushing his luck like this. Alpha put his hands on the railing on either side of your body, waiting to see whether you were going to lean away or… maybe… back toward him.
You didn’t do either of those - you didn’t even turn around - but you did give a satisfied sigh and say, “Thank you.”
It wasn’t the best-case scenario, but it was far from the worst. The mild imperfection lent the scene an air of realism that Alpha appreciated, having pictured this moment far more often than he would ever admit.
Alpha nodded. “Anytime.”
—
Author’s Note - Hopefully this helps make up for the emotional trauma of last week? Also, I’m going to be super needy this week. If you have a moment, please consider leaving comments, questions, or feedback of any kind. I just got out of the hospital (planned procedure, nothing to worry about) and I’m feeling really gross. I would love to hear thoughts about this chapter or the story so far!
I’ll be back with another chapter (chronological this time) next week!
You can read other works on my masterlist or sign up for my taglist here.
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