Chapter 19 - ch17

Chapter 17: Waxer and Boil's Most Wanted: Cad BaneNotes:Trigger Warnings: Dissociation, Body Dysmorphia, attempted self-harm, PTSD

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter TextThis time, the audience was pleased to finally see two familiar faces sitting in front of the camera, smiling and waving at them.

"Hey, guys!" Waxer said, "I'm Waxer—"

"And I'm Boil," Boil cut in.

"And this is 'Waxer and Boil's Most Wanted'," they said in unison.

Yes, ever since their mess hall episode, the fans had been clamoring to see more of them. They had appeared on a few 'Best of the GAR' shorts and regularly posted thirst commentary of Commander Cody, much to the Commander's annoyance and Master Kenobi's amusement, but those short videos weren't enough. The audience wanted more of these two. And it looked like Ahsoka heard their pleas and delivered. An entire series just for Waxer and Boil.

"It is so nice to be back doing a proper video," Waxer said, sitting back on a worn couch that had stuffing poking out of it.

Unlike Ahsoka's videos that tended to change location and therefore she and the other troopers used whatever was around, it looked like someone had taken great pains to at least try to set up a proper studio space for Waxer and Boil's segment. They were both sitting in worn-out armchairs (or a couch in Waxer's case) with proper mics in front of them and a mural behind them. The mural itself looked to be a cartoonish ghost with its tongue sticking out. Commander Cody's sunburst pattern was on its chest and a lightsaber was in its hand.

"I can't believe we were popular enough that people have been asking Soka for more content with us," Boil added.

"Makes sense. We are very charming guys."

"Very charming." Boil nodded. "And also very single if anyone's interested."

"Oh, did you have to tell them that we're single?" Waxer groaned.

"What? We are."

"Makes us look lame! Like we can't catch a date."

"We're soldiers who spend most of our lives either on the battlefield or stuck on a ship with a bunch of brothers. When do we have time to date?" Boil threw his hands up in frustration.

"I don't know. But putting it out in the universe can't be a good thing." Waxer shot back.

"Well not putting it out into the universe will ensure we never get a date to begin with."

"Aren't you two supposed to be talking about something specific?" A voice called from off-camera.

Waxer winced. "Right. Sorry commander. We'll get back on topic." He turned back to the camera. "Right, it's a shame we can't do more C2C episodes. We love Ahsoka and there are plenty of topics for us to discuss. But I get it. The 501st and 212th do missions together often, but we don't have a lot of downtime in between things."

Boil nodded. "Precisely. Which is why when Commander Fox asked for this to be a series, Ahsoka thought of us. The best of the best."

"No matter what Echo and Jesse say."

"Especially since Echo and Jesse are the ones saying it."

"This series will be fun," Waxer said brightly. "We get to talk about all the scum of the galaxy. Getting their names and faces out there to drive tips and hope that the Corries can catch them and bring them to justice."

"Yeah, us on the front lines spend so much time defending planets from clankers, we sometimes forget that there are other things out there that are just as dangerous," Boil added. "And what good is fighting a war if you've got Zygerrian slavers stealing your children?"

"And speaking of children," Waxer said, "Shout out to Numa! We got your letters. And your cookies. We're thinking of you too." He beamed.

"General Kenobi's even helping us learn how to read, write, and speak in twi'lek," Boil added. "So next time we write to you, hopefully, you can read it. If Waxer's handwriting improves."

"Oi! My handwriting is perfection."

"Whatever you say, buddy."

"It is!"

"Troopers, get on with it," Commander Cody snapped from off-screen.

The two troopers snapped into a salute. Years of training and instinct took over for a brief second.

"Sorry, Commander," Waxer said. "We'll get on with what Representative Commander Fox wants us to talk about."

"Right," Boil relaxed and rubbed his hands together. "Because today is a very special episode." He grinned at the camera, a spark of mischief in his eyes. He looked like he was about to cackle an evil laugh.

"Cause it's our first one?" Waxer asked.

"That. But also who we're talking about," Boil said. "Now, most people know that Ahsoka's been out on medical leave the past few weeks, hence all the special episodes and the fact that she's been hanging around Commander Fox. And that's because… We can talk about this, right, commander?"

Cody must have made some silent indication in the affirmative because Boil continued. "That's because, on her last mission, Cad Bane tried to assassinate her."

Both Waxer and Boil looked as though they wanted to rip Cad Bane's spine out of his back and beat him with it. It was strange for the audience to see. They had seen the clone troopers with varying emotions. Happy, bitter, annoyed, tired, playfully angry. But this was different. The audience knew from the 'Best of the GAR' and just general news reporting on the war that the clone troopers were a deadly force to be reckoned with. They were good at what they did. But this was the first time they seemed dangerous. Like they could actually destroy you if you tried something. It was decided then and there by most of the audience that they really did not want to get on the clone troopers' bad side. And this was Waxer and Boil! They didn't seem like they had a violent bone in their body. Shooting droids was one thing. But shooting a person? A sentient being?

And yet, sitting here looking at them it was clear they would not hesitate if they came across Cad Bane. They were soldiers through and through. And they would do whatever it took to protect the other soldiers and the people they cared about.

"It might be a bit biased to focus on him first," Waxer said, shaking off his murder glare and slipping back into an easy smile. "But suck it. It's our show and we don't like it when people try to kill our little sister."

"Especially when he's a pathetic hut'uun while doing it," Boil scoffed. "I mean, an assassination attempt is one thing. But hiding out on a rooftop to snipe her? How pathetic can you get?"

"He had to hide on the rooftop 'cause she would have kicked his ass if he tried to go toe-to-toe with her in a fight. Which just makes him more pathetic because if you can't beat your target in a fistfight, then you shouldn't be killing them in the first place."

"Damn straight."

A picture of Cad Bane flashed up on the screen.

"Alright," Waxer said, gesturing to the pictures. "As you can see, this is Cad 'Cowardly Fuck-Wad Tiny Dick' Bane."

"We can neither confirm nor deny that his middle name is 'Cowardly Fuck-Wad Tiny Dick'," Boil said.

"But let's face it. Anyone who tries to kill a fourteen-year-old girl has got to have the tiniest dick known to man."

"Microscopic." Boil held up his fingers in an approximate measurement of what he thought Bane's dick size was. It was very small.

"Troopers," Cody warned once more.

"Sorry, sorry, Commander," Boil said.

Waxer held up a datapad. "We won't talk about his tiny dick anymore. We will instead do what Representative Commander Fox wants us to do. List of crimes includes: stealing a holocron—whatever the fuck that is—blowing up a part of the Jedi temple, blowing up the Senate—"

"Think he's compensating for something with all these explosions?"

"Oh definitely, freeing Zero the Hutt, taking a bunch of senators hostage—"

"Like good senators. Senators we actually like. Chuchi, Amidala, and Organa were part of that group so we are actually mad about it," Boil cut in.

"And most recently, as we've already discussed, being a cowardly piece of shit who tried to kill a fourteen-year-old girl but didn't have the balls to do it face to face." Waxer finished up.

Boil scoffed. "Like, I know it's his job. He gets paid to do this. But come on, man! Killing a kid? Even I would have trouble following orders if General Kenobi was like 'Kill this kid for me'. Might actually have to desert if he did that."

"Please, General Kenobi would rather eat his own lightsaber than kill a kid or order us to kill a kid. It's not just Bane who's the coward. It's whoever hired him too. Cowards. All of them. They should all be ashamed of themselves. If they want Ahsoka dead, then they need to man the fuck up and fight her one on one."

"Agreed," Boil said, nodding solemnly. "I volunteer to be Ahsoka's second in that duel."

"Nah, I say we let Commander Gree be her second. I think he could actually rip apart a man limb from limb."

"Ooh, fair point. But Representative Commander Fox seems like he's got a lot of rage stuffed inside him. I wouldn't mind watching him let loose and just beat the shit out of Bane and whoever hired him."

"No!" Waxer snapped his fingers. "Alpha-17. None of the audience has seen one of the Alpha class troopers yet, but they are huge. I want Bane and the other coward to show up, thinking they're going to fight tiny little noodle-armed Ahsoka, and then shit themselves when they see Alpha-17 looming behind her like a mountain."

"Ahsoka and Alpha-17, the dream team," Boil said.

"They would cause so much chaos."

"I'm down for the chaos."

"We need more chaos in our lives, honestly," Waxer said.

"But a different kind of chaos. Chaos that gets shit done," Boil added.

"Agreed."

The conversation petered out and they looked at the picture of Bane. For several seconds, neither of them said anything.

"He looks ridiculous in that get-up," Boil clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"I know, right!" Waxer threw his hands in the air. "I mean, do you think he's wearing leather pants?"

"Don't know. Must be. They look leather."

"If they're leather then they must be hella uncomfortable," Waxer said. He took another look at Bane's picture and then burst out laughing, clutching his gut and kicking his feet.

"What?" Boil looked at him like he had lost his mind. Maybe he had.

"Do you think he needs to use baby powder to get in 'em?"

"The pants?"

"Yeah, 'cause he's gotta be all sweaty and stuff. And they're tight. I don't think leather's that stretchy so it's got to be a bitch to get in and out of them."

Boil looked at the picture and started laughing too. "You're right! Has to be so uncomfortable, swimming in your own sweat while chasing a target. Oh, ew, I can feel the sweat puddling behind my knees. Oh, it's got to be so slippery."

"And smelly," Waxer added. "You think he squeaks when he walks?" There were tears in his eyes as he doubled over laughing.

"Oh, he totally does. Every step he takes is a squeak. He probably can't bend his knees very well either."

"Must ruin the intimidating nature of him. Waddling towards you because he can't bend his knees, squeaking with every step."

"And then he gets you into custody and he gets back to the ship, and he's got to take the pants off!" Boil slapped his knee.

"Remember that time General Kenobi went undercover and had to wear leather pants?"

"I don't think he had to. I think he wanted to. General Kenobi is weird like that."

"Commander sure liked him in those—Sorry! Sorry, commander! It was a joke. Please put the blaster down." Waxer said, throwing up his hands in surrender.

"I do remember those leather pants, though," Boil wiped a tear from his eye. "It took five of us just to pull him out of them when he was done. One on each arm, one on each leg, and then one on his shoulders."

"There's still a dent in the wall from where I flew into it," Waxer said. "But Bane doesn't have five people to get him out of his pants. Imagine you sitting in his custody all awkward while he's sitting to the left of you, grunting, huffing, and puffing trying to get his pants off."

"He's got that little droid with him, don't he?" Waxer said. An image of Bane's last known droid flashed on the screen along with its details.

"Maybe that's the droid's job: 'Pull Cad Bane Out of his Pants Every Day'."

"Gotta pay extra to have a droid with that programming," Waxer said.

"Stop, stop, it's too much!" Boil started cackling again. "Oh, and his stupid hat. I mean look at that thing!" He gestured to the picture once more.

"That's the kind of hat you pick up when you're a teenager trying to look cool but not realizing that you look like an idiot. And then you get older and you get rid of the hat." Waxer said.

"No shame in having a hat phase. We all have a hat phase," Boil said.

"I mean, on Kamino we didn't have access to hats, but if we did, we definitely would have had a hat phase too."

"It's a rite of passage. Except, Bane didn't get rid of the stupid hat. He kept it," Boil said.

"You think it's like a security blanket for him?" Waxer asked. "Like he's sensitive about the shape of his stupid head so he wears it?"

"Well if he is, it's not going to stop us from making fun of his stupid head." Boil turned to look directly at the camera. "Hey, Bane, yeah, I'm talking to you. Your head shape is stupid. And so is your hat. You look like an overripe juja fruit and the leather is not doing what you think it's doing."

Waxer snickered. "He is a good shot though. Hardy man. Hard to take him down."

"Waxer!"

"What? I can't give the guy one compliment? The audience needs to know what they're up against."

"Representative Commander Fox has asked us to make it clear that you are not to engage with Bane if you see him," Boil said. "Instead, you are to call the Corries or your local GAR outpost and let them deal with him."

"Yeah, yeah. Get the disclaimers out of the way," Waxer waved a dismissive hand at him. "But he has gone up against lightsabers, blasters, slug throwers—"

"Who has a slug thrower in this day and age?" Boil interrupted.

"Think Commander Wolffe's got one. Can't be sure though."

"Is that allowed?"

Waxer shrugged. "I'm assuming General Koon allowed it. No idea why Commander Wolffe wants one though."

"'Cause Commander Wolffe is crazy like that."

"Is anyone in the Command Class not crazy—Sorry, Commander. We'll get back on topic. You can put the blaster down." Waxer paled and threw up his hands in surrender once more.

"Is there anything else we need to say about Cad 'Cowardly Fuck-Wad Tiny Dick with a Stupid Hat, Stupid Head, and Sweaty, Squeaky Leather Pants he Can't Get out of' Bane?" Boil asked.

Waxer scrolled through the datapad. "Don't think so. We covered everything Representative Commander Fox wanted us to cover. Again, if you see Cad Bane anywhere, contact the number in the description and give as much detail to the operator as possible. We want to see this fucker arrested."

"So that we can stick him in a cage with Alpha-17 and watch," Boil said with a dreamy look on his face. A thought occurred to him. "If he gets arrested, do you think we can get his hat?"

"Why would we need his hat?"

Boil shrugged. "Put it up behind us. Like it can be the start of a collection of all the people we've helped capture."

Waxer furrowed his brows. "Is that a trophy? We aren't allowed to take trophies."

"Is it a trophy? Or is it a hat that's going to a new home where it will be loved and appreciated?" Boil asked.

They both looked off-camera to where Commander Cody was sitting.

"The commander's just glaring at us so I'm going to assume that means we can keep the hat!" Boil said.

"Alright!" Waxer gave him a high-five. "See you guys next week for a new episode. Representative Commander Fox has thousands of these that he wants us to do. And we look forward to doing each and every one of them."

"Bye, guys!" Boil waved to the camera.

*****

Fox stared, energy crushed in his hand, as the screen cut to black.

Quinlan winced and glanced at Thorn, who also seemed like he would rather be doing lower-level night patrols than standing in this office right now.

They were hoping that Fox would be too busy to watch the 'Most Wanted' episode. But by some miracle of the Force, the man had found a rare 15-minute open spot in his schedule. Instead of eating, bathing, changing his clothes, sleeping, or literally anything else, he decided to watch the episode.

Thorn cleared his throat and took a cautious step forward. "It's not that bad."

Fox crushed the can more, a splash of energy drink escaping and soaking his glove. "This is never going to work," he said. "All of my talking points were just… glossed over. Cody is doing this on purpose. Cody is punishing me for some reason."

"Cody's not punishing you," Quinlan said, sending out some soothing feelings in the Force to try and calm him down. He swore he saw Fox rip them apart with his teeth and spit them out onto the floor. Damn, this man was something else. "Besides, they did mention all your talking points."

"And it's already got a billion views and it's only been up for twenty minutes," Thorn said.

Fox whipped towards him. "You approved this? This is available to the public?"

"Well… you… were… sleeping?" he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Fox groaned and fell forward onto his desk. His forehead smacked against it, causing a bang to echo throughout the room. Quinlan winced and wondered if he should get the medic to look at Fox.

"This is a disaster," Fox groaned. "We're never going to catch Bane now! All they did was talk about his pants!"

"And his dick," Quinlan added before realizing that probably wasn't what Fox wanted to hear now.

Fox's shields finally cracked and a wave of despair knocked him off his feet. Thorn managed to catch his elbow to steady him.

"I did not realize he was this much of a drama queen," he said, steadying himself.

"Sir, we literally have two troopers whose sole job is to brush his teeth and get him to change his clothes. How could you not realize?"

"True." He winced. "But I've never seen him this bad. His shields are completely gone. You'd think everyone just died the way he's reacting."

Thorn turned back to Fox who was now weeping softly on the table. "I think Waxer and Boil may have finally broken the poor man."

"If it's any consolation, I thought the video was great."

They both winced as Fox let out another wail. "That just proves the video was a failure!"

"Okay, ouch. My taste isn't that poor," Quinlan said, crossing his arms and glaring at Fox.

Fox just let out another wail and continued to sob.

"You know, maybe this is a good thing," Thorn said with false cheer and confidence in his voice. "He doesn't usually feel his feelings, so to speak. Maybe it's a good thing that he's… sobbing face down in a puddle of energy drink. Or maybe he needs a mind healer?"

"Probably both." Quinlan turned to Fox and winced. "Um… well, good luck with the Bane hunt, buddy. People are more likely to recognize him now so I'm sure you'll catch him in no time!" He gave him a thumbs up.

"The criminal underworld will never be brought to justice!" Fox cried.

Alright, thumbs up not well received.

Quinlan put a hand on his back in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. "Now don't say that, buddy. You're doing a great job keeping people safe and you've already caught so many bad guys."

"Right! Like Hemlock! Remember we did that sting operation on him?" Thorn said.

"Yes! And you have at least a few Zygerrian slavers in lock up so good on you there."

"And those trandoshans that illegally hunted the wookies? You caught them!"

"That one weequay spice dealer that was getting all those teenagers hooked on the stuff? He's in lock up now." Quinlan added. "Besides, this can't hurt."

"Right!" Thorn jumped at the chance to spin this into a positive. "It can't hurt to have more people know who Bane is. And, because they love Ahsoka so much, he's not going to be welcome in most places. We'll catch him in no time."

Fox was too far gone, though. He kept wailing into his desk.

"I'm… I'm going to call Senator Chuchi and see if she can't get him to calm down," Thorn said as Fox started rambling about how his life was over and he was a failure.

"I can try something," Quinlan suggested. Despite Fox's very clear distrust of him, Quinlan did like the guy. And he had a feeling that his reaction to the 'Most Wanted' Episode had less to do with Waxer and Boil's antics and more to do with the sheer amount of stress he was under. It was a miracle the man hadn't broken three years ago if Quinlan was being honest.

Thorn shook his head and gently pushed him out of the room. "We know Chuchi works. Right now, I don't want to test anything else. Senate goes on recess in a few days and then we can get him to sleep for more than two hours at a time."

"But when they come back from recess, he's going to be on all those committees. It's almost like the Chancellor wants to overwork him so he quits," Quinlan said.

Something in Thorn's features tightened ever so slightly. It was as if he had that same exact thought.

Quinlan filed that information away to meditate on later.

"We have a plan. Focus on catching that crime family, sir," Thorn said.

"Right, of course." He knew not to push it at this point. Even if Fox's workload did worry him greatly, he had plenty of brothers who were doing everything in their power to look out for him. Besides, the Force wasn't guiding him to do much about Fox. He had to trust in the Force and hope that through his investigation, he managed to help Fox.

As he stepped out of the room, he accidentally kicked an empty energy drink can. It skittered out into the hall.

"Sorry about that," Quinlan said. He bent down to pick it up. He thought it was odd the tab had been pulled off. Fox didn't pull the tabs off the cans. Maybe he did it in anger? 

He turned to throw it in the trash.

"I'll take that, sir," Thorn said suddenly.

Quinlan paused and turned towards the man. His shields were up, but Quinlan could still sense a small bit of panic seeping through. A strange reaction considering Fox's office was littered with empty cans and people kicked them around all the time.

"It's no problem. The can is right here," Quinlan said, gesturing to the trashcan. As he did so, the energy drink can shifted in his hands ever so slightly. He felt a series of very distinct notches carved into the bottom.

"We get five cents back whenever we drop them off at the recycling center though. Helps pay for new paint," Thorn said, grabbing the can before Quinlan could protest once more.

Now that was a lie. The Corries got free paint (up to a certain amount) from a couple of the paint stores in Coruscant as a thank-you for helping keep crime down. The other battalions got a discount but Corries got it for free.

Quinlan wasn't about to push, though. Thorn would never answer him truthfully.

"Alright, then. It's a good thing Fox drinks so many of these things to help you out, I suppose." He did his best to hide his suspicions and his revelations.

"Yes," Thorn breathed a sigh of relief. "Is there anything else you needed today?"

"I'm good. I'll be meditating in my corner if Chuchi doesn't work."

"Going to try and use your Force magic to get him to sleep?" Thorn asked, putting the can back in Fox's office.

"Nah, I was just going to hit him over the head with a bat."

Thorn laughed. "That's Option 24F for getting Fox to sleep. You have to go through all the other options first."

"Is that the last option?"

"No. Strangling him is the last option," Thorn said thoughtfully.

"Good to know. I'll see you around, Commander Thorn." He turned and made his way back to the corner.

He sat down on the pillow one of the troopers had scrounged up for him, thankful for the small bit of comfort. When he first accepted the corner, he thought this would be a simple open-and-shut case. Figure out who was abusing the Corries and how they were doing it. Bring it to the Council. Go back to his work taking down drug smugglers and evil-doers. Live happily ever after.

But then Ahsoka had to go and mention 'Blackout Missions', which just threw a whole-ass wrench into his plan. He didn't know if the missions were connected to the abuse or not, but something sinister was brewing with the Corries. Someone was using them as puppets.

So now he was here for the foreseeable future trying to figure out what was going on with troopers who couldn't remember doing missions they never recorded. Quinlan liked a challenge, but even this one felt like the odds were stacked against him.

Grav and Drillbit had been a bit of a bust. Using the cameras, they had managed to track them for about a mile before the two just up and disappeared. After some searching, they discovered the entrance to a maintenance tunnel tucked away in a back alley. And wouldn't you know it? That alley just so happened to not have any cameras! There was a camera pointed toward it. But, oh, gosh, what lousy luck! It was being blocked by a delivery truck at the time Grav and Drillbit went down there.

Oh, but there were cameras down in the maintenance tunnels. So all they had to do was slice to find the path they took and—Oop! Wouldn't you know it, but more than half the cameras weren't working and the other half were undergoing a routine system updates that required them to be rebooted at the time!

One thing going wrong was bad luck. Two things going wrong were a coincidence. But four separate issues that ensured Quinlan had no proof that Grav and Drillbit even went into those maintenance tunnels? That was purposeful. Someone wanted to make sure the Corries were essentially ghosts as they moved throughout the city. What's more, they had the power to do it.

And that's what scared Quinlan more than anything. He did not, for one second, think the Corries were doing any of this willingly. He didn't know if they were being controlled by threats or by the Force or something else. He didn't know if the memory loss was drug-related or not. But what he did know was that something dangerous was brewing in Coruscant. Something that could destroy the Republic if it came to fruition.

But who could possibly be behind this?

Was it the Kaminoans? It was suspicious that they had an army just up and ready to go for a war that hadn't even been in the cards when they were commissioned. Obi-Wan said Sifo-Dyas was the one that commissioned them. But he had been dead for years by the time the clone army was ready to go. Maybe the Kaminoans used his death as an opportunity to try for a more powerful role in the Republic. But, did the Kaminoans have enough power in Coruscant to block out cameras in the maintenance tunnels? Quinlan wasn't so sure. And did they even want to be more powerful? They seemed pretty content with their lot as an outer-rim planet that specialized in cloning experiments that were more unethical than Quinlan would like to admit.

Or was it a politician? The Senate was corrupt and many Senators were more concerned with money and power than with actually being politicians. They could see the clone army as a way to get their money. And they'd have an easier time tampering with any cameras along with access to the troopers. They could be using threats against Fox and his men to get them to do the Blackout Missions and then give them drugs to make them forget. Fox, feeling isolated and likely abused by other members of the Senate, might worry that coming out would have the Jedi and the rest of the government siding with the corrupt senator instead of him and his troopers. But, the way Grav and Drillbit acted in the videos seemed off. If they were receiving threats from the comms in their helmets, why did they go so willingly? Why didn't Grav, the new kid who had never been on a blackout mission before, ask what was going on? Why did they not seem hesitant or even resigned to the mission? And did a single Senator have the power to take down half the maintenance tunnel's cameras and not get caught? This seemed too big for a single person to take on.

It might, then, be the work of Dooku. Maybe he was using some sort of Force manipulation on the Corries to get them to work for him. He was a Jedi in the past. He'd know how Coruscant worked. And with the money from his planet, he'd have enough resources to pay for whatever he needed to take down networks and sneak the troopers out for whatever he wanted them to do. The Force manipulation could go a long way to explaining why Quinlan wasn't picking up much from the armor either. There were ways to hide things from him. But what did Dooku want with the Corries anyways? Why go through all this trouble to sneak them out of the base? Why not just kidnap a slicer and a droid mechanic, wipe their minds, and get them to work for him? And what did he even want with them anyways? If he had the power to take control over the troopers, why only do one or two at a time? Why not wipe the whole army and turn them against the Jedi? Finish the war in one fell swoop?

The more Quinlan thought about it, the more frustrated he felt. And it didn't help that the troopers were very good at speaking in code. He realized, a few days into his mission, that the troopers didn't always need to speak out loud to one another. More than once he caught them doing a 'one-handed' form of sign language that seemed to be a mix of field signals, finger spelling, and some straight made-up symbols. The hand was always hip height or lower (to make it easier to hide, perhaps?) and the helmets made it impossible for Quinlan to track who was watching the message.

The troopers were a people who grew up being constantly monitored. Their culture was steeped with secrecy and figuring out ways to speak their minds without getting caught. It felt like every time he made progress with one code, eight more appeared in their place that just further complicated things.

And then there were the clicks, whistles, taps, and snaps that he heard throughout the base. Again, he had no idea what any of them meant, but the troopers seemed to. He didn't even think they were hiding anything super illegal from him. He was fairly certain the troopers were just talking about their day or complaining about their workload. But they still coded it.

And now he had one more code to add to the pile. The energy drinks. Those notches at the bottom meant something. If he were to guess, the tab was pulled off as a quick way for Fox and the other commanders to identify what cans had the codes and what didn't. The notches themselves were small enough that you wouldn't notice them just by glancing at them.

It made sense. No need to broadcast your code.

But what could they be for? What was Fox using them for? They didn't seem complicated enough to be coded communications. And it would take too much effort to carve the notches for them to be a hidden conversation.

If Quinlan were to bet, Fox was keeping track of something. He wondered if he was keeping track of the Blackout Missions.

Quinlan hadn't learned much in the few days he was here, but he did learn a few things. 

The troopers were very loyal to one another. 

The Commanders were very protective of their troopers. 

And Fox was a suspicious bitch who didn't trust anyone who didn't look like him (And Ahsoka. He seemed to trust Ahsoka). 

He would have pegged these blackout missions immediately as a danger to his family. But, he was probably in much the same position Quinlan was in. Someone had gone out of their way to make sure the troopers could not remember what was happening. He doubted they'd do something so stupid as to reveal themselves to Fox and hoped he kept the secret.

Which meant that Fox was likely running his own investigation. And that included keeping track of the missions in a way that made it look like he wasn't keeping track.

Right now, Quinlan was only working with one dataset: Grav and Drillbit's recent mission. But if Fox was as crafty as he thought he was, then he had to have months, even years' worth of data to pull from. There had to be a pattern there. Something that Quinlan could use to further his investigation.

He would stop focusing on breaking the other codes for now. He knew what he was looking for in an energy drink can. If he could get enough of them and use the most recent can (likely the can for Grav and Drillbit's mission) as a starting point, he should be able to break it.

And once he broke the code, he could find the pattern. And once he found the pattern, he could see if someone had slipped up somewhere and let a little too much information out into the world. Or maybe Fox already knew who was calling the missions and was trying to figure out what they were for. Either way, this was Quinlan's path forward. He was going to get to the bottom of this, no matter what.

*****

Ahsoka's hands shook as she read the reports in front of her. The Healers had cleared her to do light paperwork, which mostly meant signing forms that had already been filled out by other troopers. She was glad to get back to some semblance of normalcy, even if the 501st was somewhere far away. Just as she had been getting into a groove and getting shit done, she had come upon the casualty report from their last campaign.

Now, casualty reports were always difficult to read. No matter how low the number was, any deaths or injuries were too high for her taste. But, as she read over the report, her blood turned to ice.

Jesse had gotten seriously injured.

Jesse had been so injured, he ended up in a bacta tank for several days.

Jesse had been so injured that Kix hadn't known if he was going to make it.

Jesse, one of her best friends, had nearly died, and no one told her. 

Anxiety over Jesse's condition quickly turned to anger. Had it been a day or two ago, Ahsoka would have understood. Rex, Anakin, and the others had a lot of work to do after the campaign. She could forgive them for not telling her right away, not when they were likely running around trying to keep things from imploding further. But it hadn't been a day or two ago. It had been almost a week.

Fives had messaged during that time and acted as if everything was normal.

She had talked with Anakin just yesterday and asked how everyone was doing. He said fine! He lied to her! He knew how much she liked Jesse but he still lied to her.

And Rex… Oh, this explained why he hadn't called her in several days, despite checking in on her hourly before. She had assumed he had simply gotten busy, trying to take on her tasks and his. But no. He hadn't. He was hiding from her. He had hidden this from her.

She scrambled for her datapad to message Rex or Anakin. She hesitated. They had already lied to her once. She wanted to confirm that the report she had read was accurate and they had been avoiding her.

She messaged Fives instead; demanding to know what was going on.

It didn't take him long to message back. "Sorry, kid. We didn't want to worry you. He's fine, though. He'll make a full recovery."

Anger burned through her once more. It wasn't about whether or not he'd make a full recovery. It was about them hiding this from her. Lying to her. Pretending like it hadn't happened. Did they seriously think she wouldn't notice? That she'd never find out Jesse was in bacta?

She was done talking to Fives. She needed to take her anger out on a better target and called up Rex. She didn't care what time it was on the ship or what other work he had to do. She wanted to yell at him.

He picked up the call, perhaps deciding that he couldn't ignore her forever.

Before he even had time to say hello, Ahsoka started to shout. "Why didn't you tell me about Jesse?"

Rex froze for a second before his face hardened. "Who told you about Jesse?"

"I read the casualty reports," she snapped, waving the datapad in front of him.

"He's fine—"

"But he wasn't fine a few days ago! He was dying and you all decided not to tell me! You lied to me! You avoided me!"

"Kid—"

"How could you? He's my friend too. Or do you not think I deserve to know what happens to my friends?"

"It's not that—"

If she were a better Jedi, she'd let Rex talk. Maybe discuss this calmly like rational Jedi. Figure out why he decided to keep this from her and calmly explain her feelings to him until they came to a mutual understanding.

She did not want to be a good Jedi right now.

She still had nightmares about Bane. Archer and Sol, while nice, made her feel like a weak and pathetic child who couldn't defend herself. She was tired of people constantly following her around. She was tired of the way the healers spoke to her, in soft voices as if she might break down simply from their words. She was tired of seeing her stupid ugly scar every time she took off her shirt. She was tired of reading over casualty reports and not being on the front lines where she could help. She was tired of everyone acting like she was a fragile thing. She was tired of all of it. She was angry and frustrated and felt like she couldn't complain because that was not the Jedi Way.

She should be grateful she was alive.

She should wear her scars with pride like Wolffe did.

She should take this opportunity to relax on Coruscant, knowing that having this much time away from the front lines was a luxury few got to experience.

But telling herself that did nothing to quell the rage and pain boiling below the surface. She wanted to yell at someone, and Rex was her target. So, she yelled.

"You keep treating me like I'm a little kid and I'm sick of it!" she said, uncaring that Archer and Sol, right outside her door, could hear everything. "If Jesse's fine enough to lie about then I'm fine enough to be told about it. You were never going to tell because you don't trust me. Do you?"

"Ahsoka," Rex pleaded.

"No, you know what, I don't want to talk to you right now. Thanks for avoiding me for a week. Keep it up, Rex." She hung up before he could respond.

She didn't feel better after yelling at him.

She felt worse. She was still angry and frustrated, now with a healthy layer of guilt scooped on top of it.

She stared at the incident report once more. She signed off on it, threw it on the table, and went to go collapse in her bed. She still had a lot of paperwork to do and she was supposed to be heading to the Corrie base in a bit to help Cage, but she didn't want to. Maybe their pity would be enough to let her wallow in self-loathing for a few hours.

Apparently not, as not long after she had burrowed herself into the blankets, there was a knock at the door.

"Go away, Archer. I don't want to talk right now," she said.

The door opened regardless of her request.

"Not Archer, kid," someone said.

She poked her head out of her blanket nest to see Wolffe standing in front of her grinning.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well," Wolffe sat down on the bed, right on her legs. If she didn't know any better, she'd guess he did it on purpose, "because Fox loves me more than he loves any other brother—"

"I think you are Fox's least favorite brother," she huffed.

"His least favorite brother is Bacara, dear, keep up," Wolffe said, patting her head. "Fox has agreed to release you from your guards."

"Wait, really?" Ahsoka said, pushing herself up.

"On one condition," Wolffe said, grinning at her.

She narrowed her eyes.

"You got to stay with me."

"Great, so now you're my babysitter." She flopped back down in the blankets. "Just leave me to die."

"You have spent way too much time around the Corries. They're all dramatic bastards. But, think of it this way. Archer and Sol are way too terrified of Fox, Cody, and Rex to let you get into any trouble. Me on the other hand…"

She looked up at him, slightly suspicious.

"I have no problem pissing off my brothers. So come on. Let's get you in some trouble. No wallowing for you today." He didn't give her an option as he grabbed her wrist, tugged her off the bed, and tossed her over his shoulders like a sack of grain.

"What kind of trouble are you thinking?" Ahsoka said.

"Oh, you'll see. I got Gree in on it too. Trust me, kid, you're going to love it." Wolffe stepped out the door and dismissed Archer and Sol.

Ahsoka could feel their trepidation about letting her out of their sight. It made sense. After nearly two weeks of constantly being around her, it must be weird to leave her in the hands of Wolffe. But, he was a commander and probably had something from Fox saying it was okay, so they let them go.

"Are you going to tell me what we're doing?"

"Nope. It's a surprise." Wolffe said in a sing-song voice.

Ahsoka decided not to argue and let herself be carried out of the temple and into a speeder where Sinker and Boost were waiting. They greeted her, hugged her tightly, and then sped off.

Whatever Wolffe had planned, she was glad for the distraction. She'd deal with Rex and her emotions later. For now, she wanted to forget the whole thing.

*****

Rex was shaken from his conversation with Ahsoka. He knew it was a bad idea to keep Jesse's injury from her. Cody had told him. Wolffe had told him. Fives and Echo had told him. Hell, even Jesse himself wasn't too happy when he finally woke up from his medically induced coma.

But Rex couldn't bring himself to tell her. He felt guilty that Jesse got hurt; that another person he loved got hurt while he sat around and did nothing to stop it. He was scared that Ahsoka would blame herself. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to keep her safe. He knew it was foolish. He knew she'd be mad when she found out. But he did it anyways.

Because he was a coward.

A pathetic, weak-willed coward who, at the end of the day, didn't want to have a hard conversation. And now he was dealing with the consequences. He and Ahsoka had grown so close over the past few months. He truly did think of her as his sister. But that might all be gone now because he made a mistake.

She had been so mad, he wasn't sure how to fix it. Should he reach out to her again? Call her? Message her? Wait until they got to Coruscant and try to talk face to face? Or should he leave her alone and let her come to him?

He would ask Skywalker what he should do, but Skywalker was just as protective over Ahsoka as he was. If anything, he was worse. At least Rex had the decency to not lie to her face about Jesse. No, he just avoided her like a coward instead.

Maybe he could talk to Fives. Fives never hesitated in speaking his mind and setting Rex straight. And if Fives didn't work, he could always call Cody or Wolffe and ask them for advice. He just… he wanted to keep Ahsoka safe. He wanted her to focus on healing. He didn't mean to hurt her. And he was going to tell her! Eventually. Maybe in a few months when they could laugh about it.

"Yeah, I really need to ask for some advice," Rex sighed.

Last he had heard, he and several other troopers were going to be in the main rec room watching something. He almost talked himself out of going; hoping instead that he didn't have to admit his fuck up to the room. But, hiding from the truth was what got him into this mess. If he wanted to get out of it, he was going to have to start having some uncomfortable conversations with the people he trusted.

When Rex got to the rec room, he was surprised to find that it wasn't just Fives and a few others in there. It was, instead, at least fifty. Packed in there tight and cheering at the screen.

Strange. He tried to catch a glimpse as to what was going on. But with so many bodies in the way, it was nearly impossible to see.

He started shoving his way through the crowd in search of Fives. Thankfully, Fives wasn't stuffed in the center of the mass which made it easier to get to him.

"What's going on here?" he shouted over the cheers. Was that… Was that Gree and Wolffe fighting on screen? What the fuck?

"Clone Fights," Fives said, not even turning to look at him before going right back to shouting at the screen.

"Clone… Fights?" Rex turned to the screen just in time to see Gree do a particularly aggressive body slam that had Wolffe crashing to the floor.

"Yeah, Doom and Monnk put it together. Wolfpack versus Green. Bracket style match." Fives explained quickly.

Once more, the cheers echoed in the room as Gree got Wolffe in a headlock and slammed him into the floor. Rex winced. Out of all the commanders that could go head-to-head in a fight, Wolffe and Gree were probably the worst two to pit against each other. Both were aggressive and ruthless. They also seemed to feed off each other's aggression in a never-ending escalation of one-ups that ended in real bloodshed on more than one occasion. While both had mellowed out since leaving Kamino, it was like they reverted back to their cadet selves as soon as you got them together. And Rex's assessment of the situation appeared to be accurate. Both looked like they were out for blood and more than willing to kill the other.

"Damn!" Fives cursed as Gree landed a right hook on Wolffe's jaw that had him careening to the floor. "I was hoping Wolffe would pull a fast one and defeat Gree. If Wolffe wins this round, it's over. But if Gree wins, there's one more round."

"Never bet against Gree," Hardcase said. "We all knew he was going to win."

"Wolffe's a good fighter," Rex said, though it didn't seem like it at the moment. Wolffe finally managed to pin Gree to the floor, only to be thrown off again.

"Usually, yeah. But they're not allowed to bite or do any of the dirtier moves which is where Wolffe excels." Fives said.

"And he beat Offee last round so now Gree's pissed," Hardcase added.

"But," Fives cut in, "if Gree wins this round, he'll be going up against Ahsoka. And we all know Wolffe's not about to let that happen without a fight."

 Rex felt his entire body grow cold. The general feeling of good-natured fun that had been floating in the air evaporated.

"What?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Fives heard him anyways over the jeering and cheering and winced. "I'm sure she's fine. Dice, Tener, and Locke probably all looked at her. And Commander Fox is crazy. I'm sure he wouldn't let her run around a fight club without making sure she was okay."

"Commander Fox thinks energy drinks are suitable meal replacements and thirty minutes of uninterrupted sleep is considered good!" Rex cried. Not only that, but he had just spoken to Ahsoka. Which meant that they had gotten into an argument, and she immediately turned around and entered herself into this damn fight! What was she thinking? 

"She is not fighting. She almost died."

"Yeah, but that was almost three weeks ago," Hardcase said. Though, even he didn't sound convinced.

"Nope. No. No way in hell is she fighting." He spun on his heels and stormed out of the rec room, Wolffe's comm channel already dialed. Wolffe didn't pick up. Right, he was in the middle of getting his ass handed to him by Gree. He tried Ahsoka's comm. Her's rang twice and then stopped, which meant she had seen it and decided not to answer. He tried Sinker and Boost's, same story. Commander Offee's didn't even ring.

Growling, he stalked back into the room, noticing the mood had visibly dampened. He sat next to a very nervous-looking Fives and Hardcase, crossing his arms, and glared at the screen.

By the looks of it, Gree had won the fight. He was standing in the center of the ring, arms raised in the air in victory as Wolffe limped off, his head hung in defeat. Rex noticed he looked at his comm. He had to have seen that Rex had just called. The fact that he didn't call back was telling.

Ahsoka stepped into the ring to the sounds of cheers coming just off-screen from the troopers who were there in person. She was dressed in torn-up blacks and smiling. Seeing her smile made Rex soften just a bit. She did look better. Her skin was no longer pale and ashen. She had some fullness back in her cheeks. She didn't walk hunched over. Actually, she could walk, which was more than what she could do the last time he had seen her.

Maybe after this, he'd call her and give her an apology. A real apology. He could admit that he made a mistake and promise that it would never happen again. Then they could go back to normal.

"If it makes you feel any better, she's already won like five fights," Fives whispered to him.

And just like that, Rex's good mood vanished and he went back to glaring and glowering at the screen. Nope, she was being reckless and fighting when she had almost died. And he was pissed at Wolffe for no doubt encouraging this. Both of them were going to get chewed out for this when they finally answered their comms. He got that she was angry at him for hiding Jesse's condition from her. But who could blame him? Ahsoka could be reckless when she was upset.

Fives and Hardcase pressed as far away from him as they could get.

Rex didn't care.

*****

"And just like that, we have our final fight of the day," Monnk said. Both he and Doom were clearly calling in from another location. "Green versus Wolfpack. Who will win?"

"Well, Gree does have the bulk that Ahsoka doesn't," Doom said. "He's a heavy hitter. You got to have the bulk to withstand his punches and kicks."

"True, true." Monnk nodded "But Ahsoka's used to fighting opponents bigger than herself. Gree's only ever sparred with brothers and trainers his height or bigger. It is a skill to be able to fight against someone a dramatically different size than you. She also has agility and acrobatics she can use to her advantage. Not sure if Gree's spry enough to keep up with all those flips and tricks."

"But, no Force," Doom cut in. "And no lightsaber. Will her hand-to-hand be good enough to take on Gree with those handicaps?"

"Please, that kid's got Wolffe, Rex, and Cody all teaching her how to go for the jugular. And I hear she bites. That could cause a stir."

"No biting and no dirty tricks. I'm not sure she knows how to fight clean like Gree does," Doom said. "Let's go live to our fighting ring now."

The video cut away from Doom and Monnk as Ahsoka and Gree stepped onto the mat.

"Go Gree!" Barriss said from the sidelines. "Go Ahsoka!"

"You can't cheer for both of us," Gree said.

"You're both my friends. I don't see why I can't," Barriss said.

"I accept your cheers, Barriss!" Ahsoka replied.

"Thank you." Barriss shot a look at Gree.

Gree groaned. "Fine. But you want me to win, right?"

"I want everyone to have fun."

"Yeah, Gree. We want everyone to have fun," Ahsoka smirked at him.

"Don't you start with me, ad'ika. Don't think I'm going to go easy on you."

"Oh, I'm planning on it." Ahsoka smiled and showed off her sharp teeth.

A Corrie named Grav was the referee for the match, as the Corries were determined to be the most impartial judges for this particular round.

"Alright, I want a good clean fight," Grav said as the people around them roared with excitement. "Tano, no Force. No biting. No shots to the dick. Gree, don't grab her lek or montrals. Both of you, no kidney shots. Got it?"

Gree paused. "Wait, where are your kidneys?"

"Same place yours are," Ahsoka replied cheerfully.

Off to the side, Wolffe looked down at his comm device, frowned, sighed, and then declined whoever was calling him.

"Where are my kidneys?" Gree asked.

"This is your sixth fight and you're just now asking that?" Grav cried. "Dice, where are our kidneys?"

"Back of the abdomen, one on either side of the spine," Dice called back as he stitched up the side of Wolffe's head. 

"So, don't punch the back," Gree said.

"Yeah. Don't punch the back. Seriously, why are you just now asking about this?"

"Don't know. Are we good? Can we fight now?"

Grav turned to Ahsoka. "Any questions?"

She shook her head. "Nope! I'm ready to show this old man a few new tricks."

"Old man!" Gree gasped. "Kid, I'm younger than you are."

"Really? Couldn't tell based on the greys in your hair or the fact that you always complain about your back."

The troopers went wild with the trash talk.

"I suppose I can forgive you for thinking I'm old. Still got a few baby teeth in that mouth of yours?"

"Let me bite you to find out."

"Please, all you do is hunt rats. Betcha couldn't take on a predator my size."

"The akul teeth in my headdress would say otherwise."

"Don't even know how big an akul is. Could be the size of a rat. It's okay, kid. I'll go easy on you."

"Afraid of hurting your ego if you go all out and still lose?"

"In your dreams, pipsqueak."

"Alright, alright. Enough trash talk. Let's get ready to fight!" Grav said, breaking them up.

They both dropped into a defensive crouch.

"Monnk, who do you think will take the first swing?" Doom asked.

"Tano. Definitely Tano. Gree knows she's got more energy than he does so he's going to try and bait her into burning it off."

"Will Tano fall for it?"

"I think she will because she'll want to get an early lead on Gree."

"Fight!" Grav called, leaping out of the way.

True to Monnk's predictions, it was Ahsoka who lunged forward first. Gree went to grab her and put her in a headlock. His positioning on her arms was slightly off though and Ahsoka adjusted quickly, dipping forward to ram her montrals right into his gut. He let out an 'oof' and fell to the ground.

"Oh!" Monnk shouted. "And Gree is down with Ahsoka taking an early lead. Will he be able to catch up, or will this knock him off his game and make recovery impossible?"

Ahsoka swung her foot down to further beat Gree into the ground. But, she hadn't hit the right spot on his chest, aiming for the diaphragm but clipping his right ribcage instead as Gree rolled out of the way. He spun on the ground, using his height and longer legs to his advantage as he put some distance between himself and Ahsoka while also knocking her feet out from under her.

"And Gree is back up!" Doom shouted. "If he keeps using his legs, he can keep her just out of reach so she can't land any hits."

Ahsoka seemed to understand this as well. She kipped up to standing. This time, when Gree threw out a roundhouse kick, she leaped into the air, right over his foot. She launched herself forward slightly just enough so that when she landed, she could land a jab into Gree's oblique.

"There we see that agility in action," Monnk said. "And with Ahsoka so close it's going to be hard for Gree to set up properly for any punches and kicks. His best bet now would be a few quick jabs to stun her and get some distance."

Gree did just that, sending out a few jabs in quick succession that Ahsoka had to lean back to avoid.

"Her guard's getting sloppy. That's where Gree seems to be excelling too. You can see he keeps his arms up to protect his torso and face," Doom said.

"Ahsoka's too used to having to use her entire body in an attack, using her arms to give her momentum. She'll need to work on that. But Gree's center of gravity is off. His footwork isn't good enough to follow Ahsoka's speed or position changes."

Ahsoka charged at Gree. He was expecting a kick or a punch and turned his body so the blow would glance off him instead of hitting square on. Maybe this was Ahsoka's intention at first. But it wasn't anymore. As soon as his body started to turn, his hands pulled away just slightly from his face. Ahsoka saw her opening and leaped up, knocking his hands away with hers and then wrapping her legs around his neck. She used the fact that Gree was off-balance, in the process of turning, and used his moment as well as her own to throw him to the ground. He wrenched himself out of her grip and rolled away before she could pin him more thoroughly.

"Oh! She almost had him!" Monnk shouted. "You know, Doom, at this point I don't know who's going to win. They both have strengths and weaknesses."

"Ahsoka's landing quite a few hits," Doom said, "But with Gree's bulk he's able to absorb them pretty well and recover quickly. It'll probably come down to if Ahsoka can use her agility to pin him, or if Gree can use his bulk to pin her."

The fight continued for about another minute. Both Ahsoka and Gree were getting tired. Their hits were getting slower. They were starting to spend more time apart, falling back to a defensive position so they could recover and plan. Everyone was on the edge of their seats. At this point, it was anyone's game.

Then, Gree made a mistake.

It didn't look like a mistake at first. Ahsoka had managed to get on his back and had him in a chokehold. He managed to break her hold pretty easily. Had he thrown her over his shoulder and onto the ground, he may have won the fight.

But he didn't do that.

"And that is the killing blow, folks!" Monnk shouted.

Troopers were a pretty heavy lot, what with their muscle mass and everything. When you tossed a trooper over your shoulder, gravity worked quickly and they crashed to the ground.

Ahsoka was not a trooper. She was so, so much lighter than a trooper. So, when Gree threw her over his shoulder, he let go while the force on her body was still arching upwards. Instead of crashing to the ground like he had intended, Ahsoka went flying toward the ceiling.

She flipped mid-air, both feet planting on a beam before launching herself back at Gree with all the force of a rocket.

Gree's eyes went wide. He had realized his mistake a second too late and couldn't get out of the way. Ahsoka crashed into him, pinning him to the ground and finally knocking the wind out of him.

Grav was by them in an instant, counting down from five. When Gree didn't get back up, Grav picked up Ahsoka's hand and lifted it in the air as cheers erupted throughout the room.

"The winner is Wolfpack!" Doom shouted.

"Who would have thought! Good fight all around," Monnk said. "Can't wait to see who fights next."

*****

Wolffe pushed his way through the crowd of troopers all congratulating Ahsoka. As much as he would like to let her bask in the glory of the moment, Rex had been calling him non-stop since the fight started and Wolffe wasn't optimistic enough to think he'd stop calling now that the fight had ended. The sooner they got this out of the way, the sooner they could go back to celebrating. But first, to get Ahsoka away from her adoring fans.

"Ah, there's my girl," Wolffe said, sweeping Ahsoka up into his arms and perching her on his shoulders. "Took Gree down hard, just like I taught you."

"Fuck you, Wolffe!" Gree called from across the room.

"Yeah, fuck you too, you asshole. You broke my nose."

"You broke mine first!"

Ahsoka laughed. "Thanks, Wolffe. Shame I couldn't fight dirty, though. It's so hard to practice that sort of stuff."

"I hear you've been biting pirates. Sounds like you're getting plenty of practice."

Once more, the comm on Wolffe's wrist buzzed. Damn, Rex could not take a hint. At least let him get Ahsoka somewhere private. And here he thought Ponds was high-strung when people missed his calls.

Sometimes he hated the fact that he seemed to be the only brother that had halfway decent coping strategies when it came to his emotions. Everyone else either had anger issues (*cough* Gree *cough*), was dead inside (*cough* Fox *cough*), or only appeared to be functioning on the surface but deep down had such a martyr complex they were constantly getting hurt and internalizing every bad thing that had ever happened to the people they loved regardless of whether or not they could have done anything to stop it (*cough* Cody *cough*). Rex seemed to fit squarely in that last category. Overprotective of everyone and often not handling it well when he couldn't protect people or failed to protect them.

Wolffe had hoped that seeing Ahsoka up and about, alive and well, rampaging with the best of them, would help his vod'ika calm down and relax before Ahsoka went back to the 501st. But with Jesse injured and Rex avoiding Ahsoka like the plague, he should have known better.

"Where are we going?" Ahsoka asked.

"Back to the barracks. I think Rex wants to talk to you. Well, he definitely wants to talk to me, but he probably wants to talk to you too." He slipped her off his shoulders.

She crossed her arms and glared at the floor. "I don't want to talk to him. He didn't tell me about Jesse and he wasn't going to. Besides, I already tried talking to him earlier. It didn't go well." She sounded guilty at that last bit.

"Ah, is that why you were moping around in your blankets earlier?" Wolffe asked.

"Jedi don't mope," Ahsoka scoffed.

"Right. I'm sure they don't." Wolffe sighed. This was worse than he thought if Ahsoka had already confronted Rex and they had gotten into an argument. Why, oh why, did no one he knew have a single healthy emotion? "Kid, you got to talk to him. They're coming to get you in a few days and then you're going to be on the battlefield with him. You have to trust him in that situation."

"I can be professional," she grumbled.

"I know you can. But it's easier to be professional if you're not angry with one another. Come on. I'll mediate, okay?"

"Do I have a choice?"

He grinned at her. "No, but if you do this without complaining, I'll give you a present."

This got her to pause. "A present? What kind of present?"

"Oh, it's a good present. Trust me. You're going to love it."

She studied him for a few more beats and then nodded. "Fine. I won't complain. But I'm not happy about it either."

"That's okay. I don't think Rex is happy about it. But open, honest communication is the first step to healing."

Did that sound emotionally intelligent enough? Did it sound like something a mind healer would say?

Hopefully. He pulled them into his bunk at the barracks, blissfully empty and providing them with a bit of privacy. He dialed Rex on the holoprojector. The man answered right away. Even in his small, fuzzy blue form, Wolffe could tell he was pissed. Oh, if looks could kill he would be a dead man ten times over.

"Hey, Rek'ika , I take it you caught the fight?"

"How could you let her do that?" Rex exploded. "She almost died and here you are throwing her around the room! She could have been seriously injured."

Ahsoka shoved Wolffe out of the way so she was facing Rex. "I was fine. Besides, Locke, Dice, and Tener all cleared me and the healers told me to start sparring again! Am I not going to fight forever? Is that what you want?"

Alright, so much for the calm, focused, healing conversation Wolffe was hoping for. He honestly should have known better. Oh well. Mistakes were made. Time for him to fix it. He needed to focus on the purpose of the conversation. Ahsoka was hurting because Rex hid things from her. Rex was hurting because he almost lost someone important to him but wasn't given the mental health resources to properly deal with the trauma. He could work with this.

"Guys, let's all take a deep breath. There's no need to yell. We can talk about this calmly." he said.

"You don't get to talk about anything!" Rex snapped. "And neither does Gree!"

"Don't yell at him!" Ahsoka yelled back. "He didn't do anything wrong. I wanted to fight! Or does what I want not matter anymore? Because I also wanted to know about Jesse but you seem to think you can make decisions for me!"

Once more Wolffe was shoved out of the way in favor of Ahsoka and Rex talking face to face.

"You didn't need to know about that. He was out of the bacta by the time you found out."

"Okay, guys, if we could maybe just go one at a time instead of back and forth like this—" Wolffe tried to cut in.

"But he's still off active duty for the next few weeks! And what if he had died? When were you going to tell me? Are you just going to make all my decisions now because you don't trust me to make my own?"

"Ahsoka, I think Rex understands that you're hurt. So let's try and vocalize this differently. Maybe start by saying 'I feel'. Can you do that?"

"That's not it," Rex shouted over him.

"Rex, shouting's not going to help—"

"Then what is it? Because from my point of view, I got hurt on the battlefield and now no one trusts me to do anything!"

"That's a good explanation of how you feel, Ahsoka. Rex, can you acknowledge what she's feeling?"

"You didn't just get hurt! You almost died! You're not acting like you almost died."

Wolffe groaned and buried his head in his hands. Was it too late to call General Koon and ask him to mediate this?

"Then how do you act like you almost died? Because when you got shot on Salucemi, you spent one night in a dingy shed and then went right back to fighting."

"That's different," Rex snapped.

"How's that different?"

"You should have been able to reflect that shot but you didn't!"

Wolffe could see something break in Ahsoka's features. His dream of having them talk it out today was shattered, but he still needed to deal with this. It was clear that both of them were escalating the argument because they didn't know how else to handle it. Change of plans. He'd talk to them individually and then when Rex got to Coruscant, they could have a face-to-face conversation. With General Koon present because Wolffe was not cut out for this shit.

"That's it," he said, stepping in before Ahsoka could recover and start yelling again. "Ahsoka, wait outside. Do not go anywhere. I will have Fox throw you in jail for the remainder of your leave if you set foot off this base."

"Wolffe—"

"Now, Ahsoka," Wolffe said, using his 'I'm a Commander Now Do What I Say' tone.

It worked. She snapped her mouth shut and stormed out of the room in a huff without arguing.

He turned back to Rex.

"Wolffe—" Rex growled, ready to throw all his anger at the situation towards him. He wasn't actually angry at Wolffe. He just knew that Wolffe could withstand any words he threw at him. But Wolffe wasn't going to let him throw those words. That would just make Rex feel worse. And if he felt worse, he'd be even angrier. And the cycle would continue forever.

"Save it, Rex," he said. "Ahsoka was fine. All the healers and medics cleared her. And you know I would never put her in a position where she could be injured. Hell, do you really think Gree would put her in a position where she could get injured? We were looking out for her like we would with any other brother."

"She needs to rest."

"And she's been doing that for a week and a half. Two and a half if you count the flight over to Coruscant. She doesn't need to rest anymore. She needs to get back to fighting shape so she can survive out on the battlefield. You guys are picking her up in a few days. She's not going to stay on the ship. She can't. She won't."

Rex growled.

"Don't growl at me, boy. I perfected the angry growl." Wolffe sighed and massaged his brow. "You can't keep her locked up on Coruscant forever. You can't keep her safe from everything. She needs to be ready."

"She almost died."

"You don't think I don't know that?" Wolffe snapped. "You don't think that everyone in the fucking GAR—hell, everyone in the fucking galaxy—doesn't know that? I understand why you're trying to keep her safe. If it were up to me, she wouldn't be going back out into that war for a very long time. In fact, if it were up to me, she'd never be in the war in the first place. But getting angry at her, trying to stop her from sparring and fighting, trying to keep deaths and injuries from her, it's just going to push her away. She doesn't need you to coddle her. She needs you to watch her back."

Rex looked away, ashamed and guilty.

Still, not emotions Wolffe wanted to cultivate. A guilty soldier was a sloppy soldier.

"It sounds like the only reason she survived was because you were watching her back," Wolffe continued gently. "If she hadn't turned, Bane's shot would have hit her heart. I know it's hard, but this is war, Rex. People get hurt. People die. It's inevitable." 

"She's not supposed to get hurt, though," Rex said, his voice breaking. "She's.. she can't. We're all expendable. They can make more clones. But she's a Jedi. They're rare. They're powerful. They don't wear armor. They jump over missiles. They—"

"They are sentient sacks of flesh and blood just like we are," Wolffe interrupted softly. "They may seem invincible, but they are not. I'm sorry, Rex. Really, I am. I get that you're in pain. I'm feeling everything you're feeling. She's my sister too. But yelling at her isn't going to make that go away. Neither is yelling at me. Neither is hiding people's injuries."

"She hates me," Rex said. He sounded very broken.

"She doesn't hate you. She's frustrated because she feels useless here. She feels weak. She's been followed around by two Force-null clones that, in any other circumstance, she'd be protecting instead. She almost died and she's scared. I was hoping that if she won a few rounds sparring against Green it might help her feel empowered; make her feel less weak."

"I implied that it's her fault she got shot."

"Yeah, you did. Not one of your best plans, I'll admit." Wolffe chuckled. "But you can also apologize for it. You can promise her that you don't really think that and then you can prove it to her by trusting her on the battlefield and watching her back."

Rex nodded. "Can you call her back in here so I can do that?"

He shook his head. "Not today, Rex. Everyone's emotions are running a little high right now. I'm going to talk to her too. See if I can't get her to open up. And I want you to spend some time reflecting and calming down so when I get you two in a room together, this shit doesn't happen again."

"But—"

"You can talk in person when you get here. Okay? Or sooner if she wants to reach out. I'm serious, though, it would probably be better if you two waited until you could talk in person. There are a lot of intense emotions. One wrong word could lead to another argument. Patience, Rex. You got to have it."

"Fine," Rex said. "I'll see you in a few days, then."

"Of course. Get some sleep. That'll help things." He turned off the holoprojector and opened the door. He grinned when he saw Ahsoka sitting against the wall glumly.

"Surprised you didn't run off," he said, holding out his hand to help her up.

"You said you had presents," Ahsoka muttered. "Is Rex still there?"

"Nah, I wanted to talk to you first. Come on. Inside." He nudged her through the door and onto the bed.

"He's treating me like a little kid," Ahsoka said.

"He is, but you can't blame him."

"Yes, I can."

He sighed and sat next to her. He took a second to formulate his thoughts before voicing them. It was important that Ahsoka understood where Rex was coming from. Yes, he had messed up by not telling Ahsoka about Jesse and then implying it was her fault she got shot. Wolffe wasn't about to let that fly and he would be having more words with Rex in the coming days. But he didn't lie for fun. If Ahsoka could see that and see where he was coming from, she might be able to handle his more overprotective side better.

"Look, kid, us clones, we don't have a lot of power or protection. I'm sure you're aware of that, right?"

Ahsoka nodded.

"Good. We can't protect our vode the way we want to protect them. Take Jesse for example. He's out on medical leave for ten days. If you ask any medic, they'd suggest at least twenty. And they'd recommend a couple of visits to the mind healers to help with any lingering trauma. But Jesse doesn't get those resources because Jesse isn't Jesse. He's CT-5597."

Ahsoka flinched at the use of his number but said nothing.

"Rex can't protect anyone else he cares about. But he can protect you. He can use Skywalker to get you leave time and access to mind healers and guards from the Corries."

"That was Fox's idea," Ahsoka mumbled.

Wolffe smiled. "Yeah, checks out. Fox does crazy shit like that all the time. And he claims he doesn't love us. We can't protect our vode . But we can protect you. And so Rex is overcorrecting. Using resources he doesn't have access to normally because he can. It's not fair to you, but he's not doing it to be malicious. He's not doing it because he thinks you're not capable. He's doing it because he can't do it for anyone else. And that kills him. It kills all of us."

"It's not fair. You should be able to have these resources too," Ahsoka said.

Wolffe wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her in close. "Life's not fair. Don't get me wrong, Rex treating you like this isn't right. But instead of getting angry at him and icing him out, you should try to actually understand him and have a conversation. He does care about you. He wants what's best for you. But if you keep yelling at him he's just going to dig his heels in and convince himself that he's right. And then you're going to dig your heels in and then before you know it, you two won't be able to be in the same room. You don't have to forgive him right away, or ever if you don't want. But something tells me you want to forgive him. You want him to continue being your ori'vod. You can't do that if you can't have a conversation with him."

"It's hard."

"Of course it's hard. But you two love each other so you need to work through this. Okay?"

"Okay."

Alright, that solved one issue for now. Wolffe would definitely be asking General Koon for more help later. For now, he had other things he wanted to talk about.

"Good. Now then, what's up with this mess?" Wolffe said, tugging at the frayed sleeves of the cut-up blacks she was wearing.

He thought they were odd when he first saw them but assumed she was out of clean clothes or something. He then learned that, nope, she had been wearing these for the past week non-stop. Wolffe didn't know the first thing about fashion or what it was like to choose what clothes you wore, but something about this seemed off.

"Archer made them for me," she said quietly.

"Why'd he do that? What happened to your normal shirt?"

She was quiet for a bit and Wolffe realized she wasn't going to answer.

"Come on, ner Sok'ika , you can talk to me."

"You're going to be disappointed," she whispered.

"With you? Never. Now if it was Monnk, oh absolutely. But you? Not going to happen. Come on. Out with it. What's with the new look?"

She picked at the hem. "I can't… my scar. I can't look at it. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be ashamed of it. You always said scars were just proof that you were stronger than whatever tried to kill you. And you, Cody, and Fox aren't ashamed of your scars but I can't help it. Every time I look in the mirror I hate it."

"Cody should be ashamed of his scar. He got it in a drunk speeder accident."

Ahsoka didn't laugh. Alright, not the time for humor. Duly noted.

"Who said I wasn't ashamed of my scars?" Wolffe said gently.

"You don't act like you are," Ahsoka responded.

"That's 'cause I'm used to them now. Back when I first lost my eye, it was rough. I couldn't look at myself in a mirror or any reflective surface. Sinker started helping me shave because every time I tried, I ended up curled up on the floor with a panic attack. And whenever I did catch a glimpse of my new eye, I wanted to claw it out of my head. It didn't hurt or anything. When I couldn't see it, I didn't even notice it really. But when I did see it, it felt like it wasn't attached to my body. Like it was a parasite I needed to remove." 

He took a deep breath. He didn't like talking about the early days of dealing with his eye. He still felt ashamed of how he acted, even if logically he knew there was no reason to be ashamed. It was perfectly reasonable for him to react to a trauma like this. He pressed onwards, hoping Ahsoka understood that. Hoping that if he opened up, then she could too.

"One night, I must have dissociated or something because I came too in front of the mirror with a knife in my hand like I was about the carve the fucking thing out. Boost found me, panicked and called Koon who did some Jedi mind bullshit to get me to calm down. I don't know if I was going to go through with it or if it was wishful thinking, but it scared me. Scared all of us. Pretty sure the first time I saw myself in the mirror after surgery I threw up. Went to 79s once with Cody and a few of the other commanders. Everything was going fine until I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror and ended up on the floor, covered in alcohol because I spilled all the drinks when I collapsed, ripping off my greys because I couldn't breathe. Pretty sure Cody and Bly had to carry me out of the bar."

"But, you're not like that anymore," Ahsoka observed.

"Not really," Wolffe shrugged.

"How?"

"Koon did set me up with a mind healer after the knife incident. But honestly, I just got used to it. Day by day I got used to the scar and the eye." He turned towards her and smiled. "It'll take a while, but you'll get used to it too. And even if you don't, that's okay. You don't ever have to show people your scars. I decided I'd rather not spend the rest of my life walking around with my bucket on my head. If I was going to do that, I needed to get used to the scar. That's a choice we all have to make. Scars are nothing to be ashamed of. But you also don't need to show anyone else them. Okay? You can cover them if you want. No one is entitled to your pain or trauma."

She nodded and hugged him. "Thanks, Wolffe."

"Anytime, kid. Luckily, I think my gift will help you out with your little scar problem." He reached behind him and pulled out a brown package.

"What is it?" Ahsoka asked, taking it from Wolffe's hands.

"I'm not super familiar with the concept of giving gifts, but usually you open them to find out," he said with a grin.

She carefully tore the paper off, her brow furrowing slightly as she saw what it was. "A knife and a shirt?" She asked, holding up the shirt and the knife.

"Yup. Well, let me explain." He took the shirt from her. "It's made from a special material that acts as armor. It won't stop a lightsaber or a blaster shot, but it will lessen the impact and give you a bit more protection. And I even had it made in that dumb 501st blue color you love so much."

"Thank you," she said. "It feels weird around the hem, though."

"Yes, because I also put in a few surprises. First up, you got some hidden pockets that are the perfect size to hide two thermal detonators and a handful of droid poppers. When it's on you, it should lay flat so no one will know you have them. But, my favorite part is this. Two throwing knives. One on each hip." He pulled out one for demonstration.

"Wolffe, I'm a Jedi. I don't need throwing knives. I have my lightsaber," she said.

He clicked his tongue. "You Jedi and your lightsabers. Look, everyone thinks that Jedi just know how to use their lightsabers. They think that if they get rid of the lightsaber, they've clipped the Jedi's wings. I say that's bullshit. Imagine you get caught by bounty hunters or something. They've taken away your lightsaber and are laughing their asses off because they think you're useless. But then BAM!" He threw the knife, embedding it nicely into the wall opposite them. "Your wings aren't clipped at all." He grinned at her.

"But won't they take this knife off me? It's too big to fit in the shirt," Ahsoka said, holding up the bigger knife. It was the length of her forearm. She could throw it if she really wanted to, but it wasn't for throwing.

"It's not supposed to go in your shirt. It's supposed to go in your boot. I had the sheath specially made so that it fits in your boot and you can pull it out with the Force. And it's made of beskar so you can block lightsabers with it."

"Wolffe, this is too much. All this must have cost a fortune."

"Not really," Wolffe shrugged. "I got this bounty hunter friend who's a Mandalorian. Nice woman. She tried to give me her vambrace for some reason. I told her they were too big for your little twig arms."

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "My arms are not twigs."

He picked up her wrist and waggled her arm around. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, kid. But really, it was no problem getting these for you. And it's helped me kick start my Padawan Knife Project."

"Padawan Knife Project?" Ahsoka asked.

"Yup. I want to get ten knives on every Padawan by the end of the year. I got all ten on Barriss. Surprisingly easy to hide things in her outfit. Gree was a little pissed I didn't give her more. If he wants more on her then he's got to get them himself. I got two on Dume before Gray put a stop to it and three on Kestis before Ironside started threatening to strangle me."

"I'm surprised Gree wanted more," Ahsoka said. "I thought he was pretty protective over Barriss."

"Yeah, he is, but Gree's also crazy. I mean, all the CCs are crazy but he's a different kind of crazy."

"Really? Every commander is crazy?" Ahsoka asked, crossing her arms and looking at him.

"Yup. Except for maybe Ponds but that's because he's got a stick up his ass."

"What about Cody?"

"He body slammed Grievous that one time."

"True. Fox?"

Wolffe laughed. "Oh no, young padawan. Fox is a subtle crazy. The sort of crazy where you don't even know he's crazy and you will never know unless you get on his bad side. And even then, you'll only know he's crazy if he wants you to know. Like, one time when we were cadets, one of our trainers made Bly cry. And it's a sin to make Bly cry. Gree and I were all ready to knock in the trainer's teeth but Fox stopped us. To this day I have no idea what he did to him. But the man spent a week locked in his room and when he came out, he looked like shit. Never bothered us again, though. But that's why we called him Fox. He was crafty and sly like a fox."

She looked down at the knives and smiled slightly. "Thank you, Wolffe. Really."

"No problem. And just so you know the two throwing knives aren't beskar. But that's okay because if any Darjettii tries to stop them it'll still be good. After all, the best defense against a Darjettii is—"

"A good offense?"

"Shrapnel." He shook his head fondly. "And, one more thing." He dug out his datapad and sent her the information. "I'm not about to hand you several knives with no idea how to use them. I reached out to Hunter. I hate to say this, but he is the best when it comes to using knives. Just make sure you never tell him I said that. Don't even compliment the man. His ego is big enough as is."

"Alright. I won't." She took the datapad from him and read what was on the screen. "101 Ways to Kill a Man with a Vibroknife."

She hummed and flipped to the next one. "101 Ways to Seriously Maim a Man with a Vibroknife."

She flipped to the next one. "101 Ways to Mildly Maim a Man with a Vibroknife."

She flipped to the last one. "101 Ways to Use a Vibroknife other than for Killing, Maiming, or Otherwise causing Serious Injury. The last one doesn't roll off the tongue as well," she said. "Chapter 1: Opening Jars."

Wolffe laughed and rubbed the top of her head. "Practice, Sok'ika. I want you to be so deadly with these knives you can take on six siths at once."

"Okay, Wolffe. I promise I'll practice."

"Good." He gave her one last pat on the top of her head. "Now let's go get some food to celebrate our ultimate victory over Gree's band of misfits. Dex's on me? I'll get Sinker and Boost to come along."

"He never lets you pay, though," Ahsoka said, hopping off the bed.

"Don't worry about it." Wolffe hoped that this conversation would help Ahsoka heal more. He knew healing was a rough and long process, but this had to be the start of it at the very least.

*****

Ahsoka: Why didn't you tell me Jesse was hurt?

Rex: I was going to.

Ahsoka: No, you weren't!

Ahsoka: He's been in bacta for two days and you didn't tell me anything.

Rex: I was going to. I've been busy.

Ahsoka: Don't lie to me.

Ahsoka: The only reason I know is because I saw the forms.

Ahsoka: Fives says that you said not to tell me

Rex: It's complicated

Ahsoka: No it's not!

Ahsoka: You hid this from me!

Ahsoka: How could you?

Ahsoka: He's my friend too

Rex: You didn't need to know. You couldn't have helped anyways.

Ahsoka has left the chat.

Rex: Wait, kid, I didn't mean it like that.

Rex: Come on, don't ice me out like this.

Rex: I'm sorry.Rex: And I'm serious, things are complicated now.

Rex: Ni ceta, ad'ika.

Rex: If you want to talk, you know I'm always here for you. Okay?

Rex: Just a message away.

Notes:I made it so that Wolffe is probably the most emotionally healthy one out of all the commanders. This is due in no small part to Plo Koon forcing him to see a mind healer after every traumatic experience he has. Which, being an enslaved soldier fighting a war, is an experience that happens every week. It's helped him find healthier outlets for his anger and frustrations as well as helped him help his brothers more. Although, he's not super hip with wedding traditions. I believe Mandalorians exchange vambraces as a proposal. And poor Wolffe just shot this woman down hard. At least he's pretty, right?

But now what you've all been waiting for! (Or maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part) My book! Below is a link to the tumblr post that has the first chapter if you'd like to read, as well as the description. The title is "The God Eater". Feel free to check it out. Thank you!

https://www.tumblr.com/beauwalliswrites/720598274820685824/the-god-eater-chapter-1-preview?source=share

"There are three rules eight-year-old Nova Franklin follows to stay alive:

Rule 1: Don't make eye contact with anything that isn't human.

Rule 2: Don't speak to anyone you don't recognize unless you see another person speak to them first.

Rule 3: If something does start to harass you, head straight home and don't make a big deal about it.

Following these rules becomes a whole lot harder when a writer named Ashbel D'Ignis shows up asking about a labyrinth in the woods called the "God Eater".

While Nova knows getting involved will lead to trouble, she can't help it. Maybe Ashbel can help her understand why only she sees demons. How to get rid of them. And how to finally live a normal life.

Now, Nova has gotten herself caught up in a much bigger mystery. With murdered goddesses, demons that don't act very demonic, and the ever-looming question of what is the God Eater, she must decide who can she trust, and who wants to eat her.

A gripping, modern-day mythos that's packed with twists and turns, this stunning fantasy novel will leave you questioning who are the good guys, and who are the bad guys. After all, appearances can be deceiving