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Chapter Text

Eren tried to open her eyes, but the pounding in her head made her wince every time a sliver of light crept in through the tiny slit between her eyelids. She took several long, slow breaths, then forced them open, blinking to try and adjust to the light. At first, all she could see was white light, and she wondered if she was dead, if this was the other side. But then her other senses began to come back to life, and she could smell the smoke, feel the heat that lingered in the air, taste the blood in her mouth. She lay on her back for a moment as her thoughts started to mesh together, gasping loudly when she remembered. “Master!”

She tried to sit up, crying out at the spasm of pain that wracked her body, not even knowing where the pain came from. As she rolled to her side to try and push up on her arms, she realised she hadn’t heard the sound of her own voice, and that everything was worryingly silent. As she finally managed to crawl to her knees, she looked around the area, horrified at the devastation surrounding her.

The LAAT/i was a smoking, twisted ruin, flames curling up from the engine bay. There were two white-armored bodies lying on the ground nearby, and she struggled to crawl to the first one, sand and stones digging into her palms. She laid a hand on his chest, a deep pain filling her when she sensed no presence in the Force. She looked over at the second body, motionless, with a large piece of shrapnel projecting from his armored chest.

Blinking as the smoke brought tears to her eyes, she tried to stand, quickly falling back to her knees as her left ankle refused to hold her up. Cursing, she crawled towards the gunship, knowing that if it blew, she had no hope of getting away. But there could still be survivors in there. And her master was in there, and despite the heavy sense of loss in her chest, she desperately hoped to find her alive. She coughed as the smoke filled her lungs, the hot sand burning her hands as she crawled closer, her voice a wheeze as she cried out. “Master!” But she still couldn’t hear her own voice, couldn’t hear the crackle of the flames that were starting to heat her skin. Her fingers touched something metallic, hot. It was too late. “Master…”

She opened her eyes again. She had to get back up and look for survivors. But something felt different now. It wasn’t hot. The smoke had cleared. And the searing pain in her body had eased to a dull ache. She realised then that she wasn’t lying on sand, her fingers brushing against smooth fabric. When her eyes focused properly, she was staring up at a glaring white light. She was in a room somewhere.

She gasped when a face appeared above her, a face belonging to one of the clone troopers. She’d seen a handful of them without their helmets on when she’d boarded the ship with Master Aryn. This one was now leaning over her with a worried frown, his lips moving as he spoke to her. But she couldn’t hear him. And then she remembered. The crash.

She tried to speak to him, to tell him she couldn’t hear him, but she couldn’t even tell if she was making a sound. She raised a weak hand, pointing to her ears and shaking her head. The clone’s frown turned into something else as he nodded his understanding, and then he was gone again, and she let her eyes drift shut as she waited for him to come back.

Blue. That was the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes. Then a cool hand on her forehead, comfort seeping in, relief. She focused on the blue, a sense of safety and wellbeing filling her as Master Che came into focus. Her lips were moving, her hands smoothing over Eren’s head, brushing over her ears, resting there, the same coolness penetrating.

But there was no sound. Just a black silence. She tried to speak again, to ask what was happening to her, scared that she had been rendered silent. But Master Che just nodded soothingly, her calmness reaching into Eren, a voiceless message. Everything will be alright.

Eren took a deep breath before entering the council chamber, not knowing what to expect. Her hand unconsciously went to the small port at the base of her skull, a reminder of what had happened. A reminder of her loss. Exhaling, she entered the chamber, trying not to feel intimidated by the eyes focused on her as she bowed to the council members.

Master Yoda was the first to speak. “Welcome you are, young Kilyc. Sorry, we are, for the loss of your master.”

Eren just nodded, eyes flitting nervously around the chamber. Not all of the council members were there in person; several of them had joined via hololink. She refocused as Master Windu spoke to her. “Eren, Master Che tells us you’re well now?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Good. Then we must speak of your future. You still have much to learn, and your situation is most unfortunate. Losing Flin is a great loss to all of us.” Eren stood with her hands clasped, waiting anxiously as Windu continued. “We’ve discussed your situation, and we’ve all agreed that under the circumstances, it would be best to assign you to a new master to continue your training.”

Surprised, Flin looked around the Jedi masters in the chamber, wondering who her new master would be, wondering how she would ever be able to forge a bond as strong as the one she had with Master Arynn.

Master Yoda spoke up again then. “Master Plo Koon shall be your new master, we have decided.”

Eren’s eyes wandered the chamber again, seeing that Master Plo was one of the members on hololink. Stunned that she was being assigned to a council member, she bowed respectfully to him. “It will be an honour to be your student, Master Plo.”

Plo Koon nodded his head gravely, his clawed hands steepled beneath his chin. “We are all doing the best we can in the current circumstances, Eren. Flin spoke very highly of you. We will arrange to have you rendezvous with us as soon as possible.”

“Very well, Master,” Eren said, bowing again as the various hololinks dissipated. She turned her focus back to Master Windu.

“We’ll arrange to have you join a transport to rendezvous with the Triumphant as soon as possible. I realise this is very soon after your recovery, but we need everyone to be on the frontline.”

Eren nodded respectfully. “I understand. I’ll pack my things and be ready to go.” She bowed to the council members, then turned to exit the chamber, stopping to take deep breath once the doors had closed behind her. She walked slowly back to her room, down on the lower levels of the temple. The war had only just begun, and she’d barely recovered from the first battle. And now they were sending her back when all she wanted to do was curl up on her uncomfortable bed and weep.

But she needed to do better than that, for Master Aryn’s sake. So, she straightened up and picked up the pace, arriving at her room to throw her belongings into a bag. She sat on her bed, to run her fingers over Master Aryn’s lightsaber, passed to her for safekeeping. She wondered whether to take it with her or leave it in her room. As she turned the hilt in her hands, she decided to take it. It was all she had left, something to give her courage and the strength to keep going.

The shuttle docked with a thud, and she waited for the drives to shut down before releasing her safety harness. She grabbed her bag and made her way to the ramp, waiting as it lowered. She peered down into the enormous hangar, feeling well out of her depth. But she took a deep breath walked down, looking around at the fighters and gunships neatly lined up ready for action. Numerous helmetless troopers were moving around the hangar, and the sight of the sea of same faces was still a little unsettling to her. They’d appeared out of nowhere. A whole army of them expecting the Jedi to somehow know how to lead them.

As her feet hit the hangar floor, one of them appeared in front of her, clad in white armor with a deep red trim. He saluted her sharply. “Commander Kilyc, if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to General Plo.”

“Thank you,” she said, following the trooper from the hangar towards a bank of lifts. Commander. That was going to take some getting used to. She was barely twenty-two years old and expected now to be a leader of trained soldiers, made specifically to fight.

She swallowed her anxiety, stepping into a lift with the trooper. She turned to him as the lift travelled. “What’s your name?”

“Fitz, ma’am. Lieutenant.”

“Nice to meet you,” she murmured, trying to summon a smile. The lift came to a stop, and she followed Fitz out into a corridor, following him to a set of large double doors that opened with a hiss.

Walking through, she saw they were on the bridge of the destroyer, and her eyes widened at the sight through the viewport, stars and planets and just endless space. She looked around, seeing that the space was busy, clone troopers in armor or navy uniforms busy at various stations. She jumped at the hand on her arm, wondering what had happened to her senses. “This way, ma’am.”

Nodding, she followed Fitz to a holotable, spotting Master Plo as they approached. He stood out among the troopers, tall and imposing in his robes. He straightened as they drew near, nodding to the trooper. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“You bet, sir. Nice to meet you, Commander.”

It took Eren a moment to remember that she was Commander, and she smiled gratefully at the trooper. “Thank you, Fitz.”

The trooper grinned at her, pleased she’d remembered his name, before making himself scarce.

“Eren,” Plo Koon said, placing a steady hand on the woman’s shoulder. “I hope your journey wasn’t too uncomfortable.”

“No, it was fine, thank you.

“Good. And you’re fully recovered? I know Vokara vouched for you, but I’d like to hear it from you.”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Good.” His sharp eyes hadn’t missed the shaved patch at the back of her head, the scar and the shiny silver node connected to the internal cochlear implants. She had been lucky to survive such a severe crash but losing a sense must have been a shock. “I was deeply saddened by the loss of Flin. She was a fine Jedi and a good friend.”

“She spoke fondly of you,” Eren said, blinking back tears.

“And of you,” Plo said. “You’ve come a long way in your training.”

“I still have a long way to go.”

“Perhaps not as far as you think,” Plo said, nodding his head towards the door for her to walk with him. “In many ways, a war is not the ideal time to complete your training. But in other ways, it will challenge you to grow in a way that ordinary Jedi training cannot.”

She walked with Master Plo back out along the corridor she’d just walked with Lieutenant Fitz, wondering where he was taking her. They went past the bank of lifts, and she followed him through another set of doors, finding herself in a large room dominated by a table in the middle.

Plo Koon took a seat at the large table, so she sat as well, hands clasped in her lap, anxious. “I sense your unease, Eren. I know this is difficult for you. But I hope to offer you the same guidance and training that you received from Flin. She spoke to me often of you. She was very proud of your progress, of your intuition and wisdom.”

Eren twisted her hands, trying to blink back the tears. “I feel…guilty, Master Plo. I feel guilt that I survived. It’s not that I wish I had died, but I don’t understand why I was spared.”

“I would say luck more than anything else,” the older Jedi said. “But perhaps it is more than that. It was not your time, Eren.”

She nodded with an unhappy sigh. “Those men, the soldiers, I didn’t even know their names. Everything happened so fast…”

Plo nodded sagely. “We lost a great many at Geonosis. Jedi and clones. And we will lose more. But we are keepers of the peace, and that is what we must fight for. You will get to know the clones, their names, their personalities. They’re good men.”

“I have a lot to learn,” she acknowledged. “A lot to learn about warfare, leadership…”

“And you will learn those things quickly,” Plo assured her, “as I did. We have no choice, and we must rise to the need of the Republic we serve.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Plo stood and moved towards the door, so she got up to follow him. Before he opened the door, he turned back to her. “I was told the rescue team just managed to get to you before the gunship was completely destroyed. You had Flin’s lightsaber in your hand.”

“That’s what they told me. I tried to get to the ship, to try and help…”

“There was nothing you could have done,” he said, trying to reassure her. “We cannot undo the past.” He paused in the corridor to look down at her. “Have you adjusted to the implants?”

“Yes. It took some time, but my hearing is almost back to what it was.”

“Good,” he said as they continued walking. “We have plenty of skilled engineers and medics on board to assist if anything needs adjusting.”

She followed him as they went back to the bridge, her eyes wandering again to the extraordinary view. She followed Master Plo back to the holotable, seeing one of the troopers in grey uniform leaning over it, studying a projection of a system, his face creased into a frown.

He straightened up as they approached, his focus on Master Plo. “We’re getting close, sir. We’re picking up something on the radar.”

Plo nodded as he leaned in to study the holochart. “Commander Wolffe, this is Eren Kilyc. She will be joining us as my padawan.”

The clone officer looked startled. “Your padawan, sir? I didn’t know that—"

“A last-minute decision,” Plo clarified, “due to necessity. She will need some guidance with the logistical side of things.”

“Yes, sir.”

Eren chanced a look at the clone officer, Wolffe. He was looking back at the chart, frown still on his face. He glanced up at her then, his frown deepening, disapproving, before he averted his gaze.

Eren felt her heart sink a little. She already felt out of place and apprehensive, and now she was faced with an officer who probably didn’t want her there. Not that she could blame him. The last thing she’d want by her side in a war would be an inexperienced girl who was wracked with grief and couldn’t hear properly.

Chapter Text

Wolffe had a brief look over the padawan and quickly disregarded her. He didn’t have time to deal with that. She was General Plo’s problem, not his. As long as she stayed out of the way and didn’t try and interfere, he could just ignore her. When he looked up again, she’d taken a step back, partially behind the general. He spotted the lightsaber hanging off her belt and wondered if she was any good with it. Probably not yet. She didn’t look very old.

She looked nervous as she stood back, listening to the general discuss a plan. Just what they needed, a twitchy, untested girl. Frowning, he turned his focus back to the general. “Any further instructions, General?”

“Let’s just hold steady for now. We’ll be in range before long. Eren, we’re coming up on Grievous’s fleet. You might be getting your first taste of battle sooner than I anticipated.”

Wolffe tried not to react to the alarmed look on the girl’s face as her hand nervously ran across the back of her head, fingers running down her padawan braid to fiddle with the beads at the end. “What should I do?”

“Stay close. There will be much to learn.”

Wolffe kept an eye on the girl as she moved away a distance, watching out the viewport as they drew closer to the enemy fleet. He watched as Fitz approached her and leaned down to say something. She followed him over to a terminal screen, watching carefully as he stepped her through the difficulties they were facing trying to close in on the enemy fleet in the Abregado system. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. Fitz could act as a mentor and bring her up to speed. He was patient and easy-going, well-suited to the job. He could make that official later. Right now, he had bigger things to worry about.

Eren scrambled to her feet, hands shaking as Fitz leaned close to yell at her over the noise. “We need to get to the escape pods!”

Nodding, she followed him, stumbling across the bridge, now strewn with wreckage. She stopped when she saw one of the bridge crew lying in her path, kneeling to try and get him up. But Fitz grabbed her arm and hauled her up. “You have to leave him! We don’t have time!”

She raced along the corridor close behind Fitz, throwing a hand out to brace on the bulkhead when the destroyer was rocked by another explosion. The comlink on her wrist flashed then, and then Master Plo’s urgent voice came through. “Eren, where are you? We don’t have much time!”

“We’re coming,” she panted, leaping over a twisted metal bulkhead to keep up with Fitz. Something filled her internal vision then, and she threw herself forward, tackling Fitz to the floor as a blast of flame shot through the corridor.

Not having time to stop and think about it, they scrambled to their feet again and ran the final meters to the escape pods. Fitz shoved her into the last available one, frantically looking around for anymore survivors before jumping in behind her and sealing the hatch. He quickly launched the pod, swearing loudly as the destroyer was jolted by more huge explosions just as they cleared it.

They sat in silence for a moment, catching their breath, then Fitz turned to her. “You okay, ma’am?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yeah. We need to try and find the other pods. Easier to pick us up if we’re all together.” He pulled his helmet off and opened up the comm channel, trying to locate the other pods. He tried a number of controls and switches, but nothing was working. “Looks like whatever took our power out worked on the pods as well.”

Eren stared at him. “What about life support?”

“There’s a backup system that’ll keep us going for a while. I’m more worried about comms right now.”

He got up to peer out the viewport, looking through the wreckage for more pods. Then he turned back to Eren. “Thanks for the save back there, ma’am. Those Force senses come in pretty handy, huh?”

“Yes, I guess,” she murmured, trying to focus. “They can’t run the systems on this pod, though.”

“Hmm, shame,” Fitz muttered as he fiddled with the controls. When he glanced back at her, her eyes were closed. “You picking something up?”

“Master Plo is close.”

“Alive?”

Her eyes flew open. “Yes.” She got up to look through the viewport, eyes scanning through the wreckage floating by, looking for pods. She cocked her head as a large piece of wreckage tilted, revealing a pod spinning slowly toward them. “There…”

Fitz came to stand by her side, both of them watching as the other pod’s viewport came into sight. “That’s General Plo, alright,” he said, relief clear in his voice. “And Wolffe.”

“What about the other two?”

“Sinker and Boost,” Fitz said after another close look. “They’re pretty easy to pick out of a line-up.”

She watched as Fitz made some hand signals to the clone commander in the other pod, then sat back down. “Their comms are down too. Looks like we’re stuck here for now.”

Eren took a look around the confined space. “Fitz, how long till we run out of air?”

“Probably best not to think about that,” the lieutenant said as he started working on the systems again. “Hopefully, there’ll be a search and rescue on the way.”

She nodded, not confident, as she pressed her hands against the transparisteel viewport. It was difficult to see what was going on in the other pod, but she assumed they were trying to get their own systems up and running. She staggered back then as something hit the pod, moving back to peer out and try to see what they’d hit. “What do you think that—"

Fitz braced himself as the pod shook, the screeching sound of metal on metal making them wince. As they looked out, horrified, a claw-shaped vessel came into view, its arms clamping down on the pod. Fitz shoved his helmet back on and pulled her away from the viewport. “We’re in trouble, Commander. Those droids are trying to open us up!”

Eren took a slow, calming breath and looked up into his visor. “How long can you last sealed into your armor?”

“About twenty minutes. That doesn’t help you, though.”

For a fleeting moment, she wondered if it was her time now. Master Plo had said it wasn’t her time at Geonosis, but maybe it was now. She flinched as the sound of crunching metal filled the tiny cabin, and she saw the seals start to weaken. Taking another deep breath, she stepped up and pressed her palms against the viewport, arms spread wide. It might be time for her, but she could at least try and buy Fitz some time, enough for a rescue team to reach him. Centring herself, she closed her eyes and focused on the welds of the metal pod, the framework keeping the transparisteel fixed into place. She felt herself falter, bracing her feet further apart as the pressure grew, throwing all of her energy into resisting the pressure from outside. She gritted her teeth as the pressure grew, focusing everything she had on keeping the pod intact, and fell back into Fitz’s arms with a gasp when the pressure suddenly stopped. She was aware of his arms around her, keeping her upright, his voice muffled as he spoke to her. But she couldn’t make out what he was saying as she felt her limbs grow heavier, felt the air sucked out of her lungs.

Wolffe looked up as the woman on the bunk shifted. He took a moment to properly look at her, something he hadn’t had a chance to do since she boarded the Triumphant. She was pale, paler after her exertions in the life pod. Her dark brown hair was cut short, as it was for most human padawans he’d encountered, short strands stuck to her cheeks and forehead. She had two metallic beads at the end of her padawan braid, one silver, one copper-coloured, and she wore a wide engraved ring on her left hand.

Her clothing was simple, grey pants tucked into brown leather boots, and a short grey robe that reached mid-thigh. He eyed the lightsaber hanging off her belt. The hilt was modest and small, with a pattern engraved around the middle. As he tried to decipher the pattern, he idly wondered what colour the blade was. He knew different colours meant different things to the Jedi. But she wasn’t a Jedi. She was padawan, untested, dropped in his lap with no notice or warning. Another life to take responsibility for. But she had just saved the life of one of his men, so maybe he was jumping to conclusions.

Her eyes slowly blinked open, and she pushed herself up into a sitting position, trying to get her bearings. “We’re on Skywalker’s ship,” Wolffe told her. “They found us just in time.”

Eren stared at him for a beat as her mind pulled the facts together. “Is Fitz alright?”

“Thanks to you. The four of us made it out as well.”

“How many others made it off?”

Wolffe was silent for a moment, struggling to find the words. “None. Just us.”

“None? None at all?”

Wolffe didn’t answer, just stared down at his hands, still working to comprehend the enormity of it. He was saved from any further discussion as the door hissed open, and a silver-haired clone entered the cabin. “Sir, we’re about to dock on the Resolute.”

“Thanks, Sinker. I’ll go and talk to the general. We’ll need to get back to Coruscant and find out what happens next.”

Eren watched him leave, but the other trooper stayed, eyeing her with interest. “Commander Kilyc? I’m Sinker. That was pretty impressive back there. How did you know that would work?”

“I didn’t,” she said quietly as he sat on the bunk next to her. “And I obviously passed out in the middle of it all.”

“No. We left our pod with the general to deal with the droids. That’s when you collapsed. Once you weren’t needed anymore.”

“Well, maybe my focus is getting better,” she said, still struggling to process what Commander Wolffe had told her. “What will happen now?”

“We’ll go back to Coruscant. Find out if they palm us off to another battalion…”

“Is that likely?”

“No idea,” Sinker said with a sad shrug. “We’ve never lost a whole battalion before.”

They sat in sombre silence for several minutes before Sinker turned to her. “How did you end up here, ma’am? Do you mind me asking? It’s just…no one knew. And I thought padawans got assigned much younger…”

“No, I don’t mind you asking. I had a master…but she was killed. The Jedi Council assigned me to Master Plo to complete my training.”

Sinker eyed her thoughtfully. He knew padawans were assigned to their masters at a young age and that they forged strong bonds. He got to his feet and offered her a hand up, steadying her when she wobbled slightly. “Well, if we reform the battalion, I hope you get to stay with us, ma’am. Looks like we’re in the same boat now.”

Another figure appeared in the doorway then. “Commander,” Fitz said, stepping aside for Sinker to leave, “you okay to be up and about?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Are you alright?”

“Just fine, thanks to you. That was some pretty impressive use of the Force. We’re still learning how that works.”

“So am I,” she said with a self-deprecating shrug. “I guess I got lucky.”

“Didn’t seem like luck,” he said, crooking his arm so she could loop her own through it as they left the cabin. “Seemed more like someone using the Force to stop a life pod from being ripped open like a can of burra fish caviar.”

“Do you eat a lot of caviar?”

“Only in my dreams, ma’am,” he said wryly. “Only in my dreams.”

She smiled sadly at him as they walked down the ramp of the Twilight into the hangar of the Resolute, joining Plo Koon, Wolffe, Sinker and the other trooper, Boost. “Eren,” Master Plo said, “Sinker said you were back on your feet. Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she assured him, removing her arm from Fitz’s to prove her ability to stay upright unaided.

“Good,” he said, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ll be going back to Coruscant to rebuild the 104th and redeploy as soon as we are ready. I must go with Skywalker to report to the Council. Why don’t you all go and get something to eat and then our transport should be ready.”

Eren followed the troopers as they led the way to the mess, up in the lift, then through a complex series of corridors until they reached the large doors. She followed Fitz, watching as he collected a variety of dishes and loaded up a tray. Not feeling hungry, she spotted a station for tea and caf. “What do you all drink?”

“Caf. Strong. Sweet.”

She left him to collect his food and went to make herself a cup of tea. Then she brewed a large pot of caf, adding extra caf granules and piling a large handful of sweetener sachets on the tray before taking it over to the table the men had occupied.

She sat and quietly sipped her tea as the men ate, wondering what the future held for them all now. She’d barely gotten used to being on board a destroyer, an officer within a battalion, and now it was all gone.

“Ma’am, you not eating?”

It was the trooper she hadn’t spoken to yet, Boost. “No, I’m not really hungry.”

“You should eat,” Fitz said, pushing a plate closer to her. “You used up a lot of energy back there.”

“She said she wasn’t hungry, Fitz” Wolffe firmly. “Just leave it.”

Fitz opened his mouth to argue with his commander but changed his mind when he saw the look on Wolffe’s face. But he was worried when he looked at the padawan. She looked exhausted and frail. And the others didn’t even know about the first time she’d saved him before they got to the pods. He kept an eye on her as she sipped her tea, deciding he’d make a point of looking out for her. He owed her that, at least.

As he watched her surreptitiously, she finished her tea and stood. “I’ll go and wait back in the hangar.”

The four men watched her leave, then Boost piped up. “Did you see that?”

“See what?” Sinker asked with an eye roll. “You’ll need to be a little more specific.”

“That thing on the back of her head. Something metallic.”

“You’re seeing things,” Sinker scoffed, shoving him. “She’s a girl, not a droid.”

“I’m not seeing things,” Boost protested. “There was definitely something there. Like an implant of some sort…”

Wolffe gave Boost an unimpressed look. “Give it a rest, Boost. You’re talking about a superior officer. And even if there was something there, it’s none of your business.”

“But—"

“I don’t need this right now, Boost. Now can it!”

Eren perched on a crate in the hangar, watching the troopers of the 501st go about their duties, trying to make herself as unobtrusive as possible. She looked behind her as she sensed Master Plo approaching before she heard him. It frustrated her that her hearing wasn’t as sharp as it used to be, but she tried to remind herself that she was lucky to have other abilities to compensate for it.

Master Plo sat beside her on the crate. “I have managed to convince the Council to assign me new troops. Wolffe is a good commander; I don’t want to lose him to another battalion. We might be on Coruscant for a while until we are assigned a new ship and men.”

Eren sat staring at her hands. “Will I stay with you?”

“Of course. That has not changed.”

They sat silently for another minute, then Eren turned to her new mentor. “Mater Plo, Master Aryn’s lightsaber was on the Triumphant. I’ve lost it…”

Plo studied his new padawan, worried by the grief that radiated off her. “That could not be helped, Eren. She would not have wanted you to risk your life to go back for it.”

“But it’s all I had.” She raised a hand to wipe away an errant tear.

“No. You still have everything she gave you. You carry it with you wherever you go. She gave you courage, wisdom, strength, and compassion. You are like her in many ways.”

Eren bit her lip to keep from crying, leaning into Plo’s body as he wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. “I know I still have a lot to learn. I’ve never been in a battle. I don’t want to do anything that puts the men at risk.”

“And you won’t. You saved Fitz’s life today. You didn’t stop to overthink it. You saw what the situation required, and you did what was necessary. Your intuition is good.”

Wolffe stopped in his tracks when he saw General Plo with the new padawan. He had his arm around her, comforting her. Irritated, he rolled his eyes with a sigh. He didn’t know what to make of her now. She’d demonstrated some quick thinking and impressive Force skills, and now here she was weeping in the hangar. He didn’t need that kind of unpredictability.

“General Plo,” he called out, giving the woman time to compose herself before he moved closer, “our shuttle will be here any minute.”

“Thank you, Wolffe. We will have some work to do to rebuild the battalion. But we have the Council’s go-ahead to draw the numbers we need.”

Wolffe felt the relief fill him. He could rebuild. He’d rather do that than be absorbed into another battalion. “Very good, sir. I’ll work on a plan en route to Coruscant.” He glanced at the back of the padawan’s head. Boost had been right, she did have some kind of silver thing on the base of her skull, something implanted there.

Plo nodded sagely as the hangar bay doors opened and a small shuttle docked. “I will leave it in your capable hands.” The surviving members of the 104th boarded the shuttle with their Jedi general and his new padawan, ready to start again.

Chapter Text

“Ma’am, General Plo said to tell you we’re being diverted to Dantooine. General Windu needs some backup. Looks like we’re heading into our first engagement.”

Eren opened her eyes, looking up at Comet’s grinning face. She took a deep breath, holding her balance on one arm, then flipped up so that she was standing. “Thanks, Comet. Any word on what to expect?”

“A whole lot of droids. And tanks. Droids and tanks.”

Eren gave him a worried look. “Why do you look so happy then?”

“Because we’re finally going to see some action! This is what we’re made to do, ma’am.”

“Well, I suppose,” she said, pulling her robe back on and fastening the belt over the top, making sure her lightsaber was securely attached.

“Aren’t you looking forward to using that thing on the enemy?”

Eren pulled the hilt off her belt and turned it in her hands, comforted by the familiar feel of it. “It’s not really what I had in mind when I made it. Hopefully, I won’t let you all down.”

Comet cocked his head curiously at her. “But you were at Geonosis, weren’t you?”

“The ship I was on was shot down before we made it in. I was the only survivor.”

Comet looked worried. “So…you’ve never been into battle?”

“No. Neither have you, though.”

“No, but I was made to do this. It’s in my blood. It’s all I’ve trained for since I was decanted. It’s all we know.”

“Well, hopefully, all my training will come back to help me. Don’t worry; I won’t be offended if you don’t want to be near me on the field.”

“I might have to be, ma’am. I don’t want you getting hit out there.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said firmly as she walked with Comet from the ship’s gymnasium. “You just worry about yourself. Is Master Plo on the bridge?”

“Yeah, he and the commander are strategizing. Don’t tell him I told you this, ma’am, but I’m not sure Commander Wolffe is including you in the plan.”

“Well, I wouldn’t expect him to. I’m untested. If you don’t trust me, why would he?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, ma’am. It’s just that—"

“Comet, it’s fine. I’m not sure if I trust me. I guess we’ll have to wait and see. How much longer?”

“Couple of hours.”

They walked quietly along the corridor; then Comet stopped as they approached the lift. “Ma’am, can I ask you something?”

“Yes, of course you can.”

“What’s that port on the back of your head? I like my gadgets, but I haven’t been able to figure it out. None of us have. Not even Fitz.”

“You’ve all been talking about it?”

“Well, gotta pass the time somehow,” he shrugged with a good-natured grin. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine. When our ship went down at Geonosis, I was injured. I lost my hearing. I have cochlear implants, and that node is an access port.”

“So, without them, you can’t hear anything?”

“Nothing. I learned to lipread a bit while I was recovering and waiting on the implants.”

Comet looked at her with a thoughtful frown. “Couldn’t you just use the Force or something?”

“That’s not really how the Force works,” she said, trying to suppress a smile. “It has its limitations.”

“Well, never mind,” he said cheerfully as they got into the lift. “Maybe we can mod you out with some other implants and make you into a secret weapon.”

“What, half-Jedi, half-droid?” she asked, laughing as they got out at the bridge level.

“Sure, why not? I can see you with some kind of robotic arm like General Skywalker, crushing droids single-handed!”

Eren laughed again as they entered the bridge. “Have you ever met General Skywalker?”

“No.”

“Well…it doesn't work quite like that.”

Comet grinned as he saluted her and made himself scarce as she stood back from the holotable where Master Plo, Wolffe, Sinker and Fitz were conferring. She still felt out of place, unable to contribute anything useful. She’d never been in a battle before and had no way of knowing what to expect.

Master Plo moved away then to speak with Admiral Coburn. Coburn was a tall, older man, stern and commanding. But he was always unfailingly polite and professional in his dealings with her, perhaps sensing her unease with her new position. On several occasions he’d gone out of his way to explain logistical issues to her, helped her to understand the way the cruiser moved and operated.

She looked back to where Wolffe, Sinker and Fitz were still looking over the projections, reading their lips from a distance. She knew it wasn’t entirely appropriate, almost like she was spying on them, but she was looking for any way to try and learn more. She blinked when Fitz glanced at her surreptitiously and leaned closer to Wolffe. “What about Commander Kilyc?”

Wolffe frowned, still staring at the map. “She’s a kid with no practical experience. I want her back behind the lines. Just…keep her alive. I don’t want any of my men put at risk because they’re trying to protect her. Or because she does something stupid.”

Sinker joined in then. “You really think she’s that bad? She saved Fitz’s skin.”

“That doesn’t mean she can handle herself in battle. Keep her out of the way.”

“Yes, sir.”

Eren sighed unhappily. He was right about her lack of practical experience. But she wasn’t like him or his men. She wasn’t a trained soldier. And she might lack experience in battle, but she was highly trained in combat. Master Plo knew that. He knew what she was capable of. And she would never do anything to put any trooper at risk, not after seeing three destroyers full of men killed.

Eren stood in the open hatch of the gunship, peering out as they approached the surface. She gripped onto the rail tightly. The last time she’d travelled on a LAAT/i, she’d been injured, her master killed. It was difficult to stay focused and calm, but she knew she had to.

She could see nothing at first, hampered by the tree canopy. But, as they cleared the forest, she caught sight of plumes of smoke rising into the air. And, as they drew closer, she could hear the sound of canons and heavy artillery. Before long, the fleet of gunships was descending, and she watched the troopers pile out, weapons ready as they raced to support the 91st.

Within seconds, the ship she was on descended after the others, jerking suddenly to one side to avoid a shot from the surface. The trooper beside her lurched out of the open hatch and would have fallen if she hadn’t grabbed him and hauled him back. The man looked around, expecting to see a brother clone, but instead found himself looking down at the diminutive padawan. He touched two fingers to his helmet in salute. “Thanks, Commander!”

She didn’t have time to respond as their ship hovered over the surface, and the men piled out. She looked around for Master Plo, spotting him some distance away with Wolffe. Remembering the commander’s words, she looked around for Fitz, spotting him nearby, barking orders at the men in his squads. As though he sensed her eyes on him, he turned. “Best to stay behind the lines, Commander. Just till you find your feet.”

Not wanting to cause trouble, she nodded, letting the troopers around her move ahead. She stayed close, though, following as they moved towards the frontline. The smell hit her first, a smell she remembered from the accident. The smell of plasma, of smoke. Taking several deep breaths, she stopped when the men stopped, looking to Fitz to see what was next. She could see he was communicating with someone in his helmet, his head tilted that certain way. After a moment, he looked up. “We’ve got incoming, and they’re coming fast! Get ready, boys!”

She braced herself as the ground beneath them vibrated, and then the tanks appeared. She turned to look back. Their own tanks were still landing, not ready yet. It was clear to her they needed to hold the line long enough for the heavy artillery to be ready to deploy. She looked across again for Master Plo and spotted him poised to lead his men forward, the blue of his lightsaber a beacon. She knew what she needed to do.

Taking several calming breaths, she flicked the switch on her own lightsaber, the dark blue blade shimmering to life just as Fitz called the charge. She leapt her way to the front, slicing down through the cannon of the first tank before jumping down into the platoons of droids beyond it.

“Fuck me!” Fitz froze for a beat, watching as Kilyc darted past him and into the chaos. Wolffe was not going to be happy. He waved his men forward, firing at droids as he ducked around the cannons, trying to find the padawan. This wasn’t just orders; he wanted to keep her alive. He owed her his life. Exhaling in relief, he spotted her dark blue blade as she darted through the droid ranks, metal heads and arms flying in her wake.

As she cleared the first line, the troopers close behind her, she stood for a moment, catching her breath as the next wave approached them. Fitz ducked a blaster bolt and took out the two droids standing between him and Kilyc. “Thought you were staying behind the lines,” he panted, skidding to a halt beside her.

“I’m more useful up here.”

He blinked under his bucket when she raised her lightsaber and pressed the switch to reveal a second blue blade buzzing to life at the other end of the hilt. He stepped back warily as she spun it almost unconsciously in her hand, and he had a realisation that they’d all been wildly underestimating this girl. She handled her weapon like it was a part of her, and she was fast, the trail of dismembered droids behind her evidence of this.

Comet materialised on his other side, speaking to him via helmet comms, his voice incredulous. “Did you see that?”

“I saw. Looks like we got ourselves a fighter.” The words were barely out of his mouth when she was off again, charging into the next wave, both blades spinning as she churned through droids faster than he would have thought possible. He took off after her, Comet close behind.

He ordered his men to fan out, picking off the droids that made it through the rapidly spinning dual lightsaber. But then, a voice in his bucket made him wince. “Fitz! What the hell is going on over there?”

“Just knocking off tinnies, Commander. What about you?” He could almost hear Wolffe’s eyes rolling as he waited for the response.

“You were supposed to keep her back!”

“Well, all due respect, sir, but I’m not sure I can. She’s taking down clankers faster than the rest of us put together! Did you know she had a double-sided lightsaber?”

“How the hell would I know that?”

“Just thought you might. She sure as hell knows how to handle it, though!”

Fitz thought he heard Wolffe’s teeth grinding as he took off again to keep up with Kilyc. As he looked down the line, he spotted his commander looking their way as he charged through the droids, his aim accurate despite his lack of focus. He grinned under his helmet. Wolffe hated being wrong.

Wolffe watched as General Plo and the commander spoke to General Windu. He looked around at the battlefield. A win in anyone’s language. Minimal injuries and no casualties. As a commander, that’s the best outcome he could hope for. He picked his way through the battlefield to reach the generals, stopping to give orders to his men on the way. They were all finding their feet as a newly formed battalion, and it took time to get to know new men and understand the dynamics. And the burden of responsibility to keep them alive weighed heavy on him. He couldn’t lose his battalion again. Losses were inevitable, but never a whole battalion.

He pulled off his helmet as he approached the generals. The new paint job was already chipped and scratched. He didn’t mind, though. It showed he’d seen action and survived. He ran his fingers over the outline of the wolf's jaw. The grey felt right. A new start. A remembrance. He looked up to find the commander looking right at him. She was a watcher, he’d noticed. Watching, observing, taking things in. She had thoughtful, dark brown eyes. Emotive. For a Jedi, she wasn’t good at masking her feelings. He found he could tell when she was worried, happy, sad, pensive. But she wasn’t a Jedi yet.

He nodded politely at her, and she offered him a small smile. She was still a little scared of him. He knew she was. And he knew that was his fault. He was too blunt, too brusque, too aloof. He’d tried to tone his voice down with her, but she still seemed nervous around him. She wasn’t like that with his men. She and Fitz were tight, and he often found them laughing over something, chatting idly in the mess or on the bridge. The men all liked her. She’d worked hard to connect with them; he’d give her that. And after today, he could only imagine they’d like her even more. Now, they would respect her. She’d earned it.

He felt a little guilty. He’d assumed she’d be unfit for battle. He’d heard what happened to her at Geonosis. She had no experience. She was carrying the trauma of losing her master. It could have gone differently, and he’d prepared for the worst. But he’d kept an eye on her throughout the battle, and she’d shown not only skill with her weapon but a tactical ability with the way she moved around the field. Time to get her commanding the men. If she was going to be a part of the battalion, she needed to be fully involved. Maybe that was a way to connect with her. Morale was important. The men needed to see them as a united front.

General Windu patted her shoulder and leaned down to say something to her before walking off with General Plo. Now, it was just the two of them. He felt himself frowning and made a concerted effort to relax his face. “Commander, you handled yourself well out there.”

She blinked at him. She seemed genuinely surprised by his compliment. “Oh, well…I just tried to take down as many droids as I could.”

“That’s the idea.” He looked around. “You took out quite a few tanks as well.”

She shrugged humbly. “Seemed like a good tactic. One tank can do a lot more damage than a platoon of droids.”

“Exactly. Next time, you’ll be commanding your own squads.”

She stared at him aghast. “What? But I don’t have the experience to—”

“And you won’t get that experience without doing. We’re in a war, Commander. You need to step up.”

“But I—”

“I’ll help you. Once we’re back on board. You handle your weapon well, and you have a good eye for tactics. You led from the front today. That’s what the men want to see. You’ll be fine, kid.”

She stared at him for a moment, a range of emotions crossing her face. Then she nodded determinedly. “Okay. You’re right. I have a responsibility to the men.”

“We both do.” He was about to move off to catch up with the generals and Ponds when he saw her flinch and rub at the back of her head. He knew about her implants now. A potential deficit, but not necessarily. “Problem?”

“No…just…things are a bit…buzzy.”

“Buzzy?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they’re not designed to stand up to loud explosions.”

Wolffe frowned. “Get Tinker in engineering to look at them. He’s good with that kind of thing.”

“Okay. Thanks.” A small smile crossed her face. “I’m glad you didn’t suggest Comet. He wants to give me a robotic arm.”

Wolffe grimaced. “I’ll have to keep an eye on him. See you back on board, Commander.”

Chapter Text

“What if I positioned a squad here? The droids would be bottle-necked, wouldn’t they?”

Wolffe looked at the plan Kilyc had marked out. “They would. But how do you retreat from that? You’re penned in.”

Eren looked at the plan again. “Aerial extraction?”

“Which might or might not come. You need a better plan.”

She frowned over the holochart for several minutes, trying to come up with a better solution. When she looked up, Wolffe was watching her, letting her figure it out. No one tells you the answer in the heat of battle. You need to be able to think fast and act faster. He’d said that too her several times already. She looked back down, silent as she thought. Then she marked out something new. “I bring four squads in from the rear here. The droids are surrounded on all sides. We don’t need to retreat. We just go straight through them.”

Wolffe nodded approvingly. “That’s better. Now give me three contingency plans.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing. Sorry. It just slipped out.”

Wolffe smirked at her. She was finding her feet with him now after several days of strategic and tactical planning. “We’re the same rank.”

“I know. But you earned your rank. I fell into mine. I tripped into it and landed on my ass.”

“Colourful analogy,” he chuckled. “But you’ll earn it.”

“I hope so.” She repositioned some markers on the chart. “You know you can call me Eren. You’re a lot more senior than me.”

Wolffe didn’t get a chance to answer. There was a knock at the door, and Fitz came into the briefing room. “General Plo wants to see you, sir.”

Wolffe nodded and grabbed his helmet as he stood. “Thanks, Fitz.” He took a final glance at what Eren was working on. “Keep working on that, kid. I’ll check on you later.”

Eren looked up and pulled a face. “Kid? How old does he think I am?”

“I don’t know,” Fitz shrugged. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two. Almost twenty-three.”

Fitz looked genuinely surprised. “No kidding? We all thought you were younger.”

“How young?”

“I don’t know…we age differently from you. Fifteen, maybe.”

Eren looked mortified. “So, you’re telling me everyone on this ship thinks I’m a child?”

“Well…teenager…”

“Oh, that’s just great.” She stood and waved a hand over her body. “Does this look like a child to you?”

Fitz looked cornered, his mind racing to think of a response. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

“No,” she huffed, flopping back into the chair. “It’s just so embarrassing…”

Not wanting her to be upset, Fitz busied himself making two cups of caf at the small galley station, passing her one as he sat down. “If it’s any consolation, I’m only eleven.”

Eren looked up at him. She knew about the clone’s accelerated aging. But it hadn’t really registered with her what that actually meant. But Fitz was grinning at her, and she quickly dissolved into giggles. “So, I’m older than all of you?”

“In theory.”

Eren grinned at him. “Do you think a bunch of children can defeat the Seps?”

“I know we can.”

There was another knock on the door, and Tinker from engineering came in. “Commander, I’ve got a new receiver for your implants.”

“Already? That was quick!”

“Well, Fitz told me you were our secret weapon, so I wanted to make sure you were in peak condition.”

Eren rolled her eyes at Fitz. “I’m not a secret weapon.”

“Well, it was a secret to me until I saw you in action.”

“Enough about that,” Tinker said, shoving Fitz out of the way. “Want me to put this in now?”

Eren nodded, turning her back to the engineer. “Yes, please.”

Tinker examined the silver port at the base of her skull. “Is this going to hurt you?”

“It’s not supposed to.”

She didn’t see the worried glance Tinker exchanged with Fitz before he used a tiny multitool to carefully remove the port cover. Eren sat as still as she could as he carefully removed the existing receiver. He frowned at the tiny device. “Just like I thought. This thing isn’t set up for the kind of volume and vibration you’d get in battle – explosions, that kind of thing. I made an intuitive one. It should self-adjust to suit the external environment.”

Fitz sighed and shook his head at the engineer. “She can’t hear you, Tink. You’re holding her ears in your hand.”

“Oh, yeah…”

Eren sat quietly as Tinker fitted the new device and wired it in. It was finicky work in a tiny port, but eventually, he pulled away, satisfied. “Commander, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” she said. “No intermittent buzzing either.”

“Of course not! I’m a professional.”

“A professional what?” Fitz asked, making Eren giggle.

Tinker gave Fitz a hard kick to his armored leg before reattaching the port cover. “Okay, Commander. You’re good to go.”

Eren ran a hand over the back of her head, reassured everything was back in place. “Thank you, Tinker. You’re a gem.”

Tinker shot Fitz a smug look. “No problem at all, ma’am. Let me know if you have any problems, and I’ll sort it out.”

“I will, thanks. Right now, I need to get back to this before Commander Wolffe comes back and rips me a new one.”

Fitz and Tinker exchanged a shocked look, and Eren looked up from the chart to see them staring at her. “What?”

“Just uh…we didn’t expect that kind of language coming from—”

“A child?”

“She’s twenty-two,” Fitz clarified, seeing the engineer’s confused face.

“No kidding?”

“Yeah. I guess she thinks she can go around saying stuff like—”

“I can,” Eren said smugly. “I’m your commanding officer.”

Fitz grinned at her. “Oh, it’s like that, is it? We’ll see about that.”

“We will.”

“Fine. Need a hand with that?”

But Eren was already frowning over the holochart. “No, thank you. I have to work it out for myself. I can’t stop and ask for help in the middle of a battle. I have to think for myself.”

“Now, where have I heard those words before? Come on, Tink. Let’s leave the commander to it.”

Wolffe stopped in the doorway of the briefing room, surprised at the sight before him. Commander Kilyc was still there. He checked his chrono. It had been at least seven hours since he left her. But she still was here. The holochart was still projected over the table, and she was fast asleep, her head resting on her arms, covered in the blue crisscross of illuminated maps. He sighed. Most of the ship was on a sleep cycle, and she should be, too. Just not here.

He went over and shook her shoulder. “Hey, kid. You need to go and sleep in your own quarters.” Her head flew up quickly, startled. “It’s only me,” he said, holding a hand up. “You need to go and bunk down in your own room.”

She squinted up at him, and he frowned back at her. Then she reached around to the back of her head and fiddled with something. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

He frowned harder. “But you can now?”

“Yes. I just turned them off to have a quick nap.”

“I didn’t know you could do that.” He went to make himself a caf at the galley station. “Want one?”

“Umm…okay. Thanks.”

“Thought I’d better ask. I read something somewhere about the effects of caf on young people.”

She scowled at his back. “I’m not a child.”

He turned and cocked his head at her. “How old are you then?”

“Old enough for caf.”

Wolffe had to cover his smirk as he slid a cup across the table to her. “I know you’re not a child. Sorry. I’ll try and stick with Commander.” He took a sip of his caf, watching her as she shut down the chart. “Tinker said he got you sorted…”

“Yes. They’re perfect now. Crystal clear.”

“Good. I need you to be able to hear what’s going on around you.” He paused for a moment, thinking on his next words. “I owe you an apology.”

Eren looked up from her caf, confused. “For what?”

“I kept you out of the loop when you first joined us. You don’t…well, you don’t look like much when it comes to fighting. But you proved me wrong.”

She shrugged. “I don’t blame you. Fitz tried to keep me back like you said, but—”

“You knew about that? Did he tell you?”

“No…I…I was watching you when you said it. I um…I learned to lipread a bit after the crash. Just enough to get by.”

“Right.” He turned the cup around on the table a few times. “After Abregado…I don’t want any of my men put at unnecessary risk. You were an unknown quantity. You still are, but maybe not as much now.”

“I’d never do anything to put any of the men at risk.”

“I know you wouldn’t. But you still have some things to learn about fighting in a war.”

“I’m trying,” she said, indicating the holo-projector. “I know I have a long way to go.”

“Not that long. Your intuition is good. But it won’t be if you don’t get some sleep.”

“What about you?”

Wolffe frowned at her again. “What about me?”

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Force users always knew. “I don’t sleep that well these days.”

Eren gave him a sympathetic smile. Not a patronizing one – more one of understanding. “I don’t sleep that well either. Maybe we can use the time more productively.”

“Such as?”

She leaned over and flicked the projector back on. “Teach me what I need to know.”

Boost leaned over to whisper to Comet. “What’s she doing?”

“I don’t know,” Comet shrugged. “She’s been doing it for a long time, though.”

The two troopers stood watching the padawan as she sat cross-legged on a mat in the gym. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed oblivious to the noise and activity around her. She often trained in the gym alongside the troopers, and they’d all gotten used to her being there. She worked out differently to them, and no one really paid much attention. But this was the first time they’d seen her doing this. Just sitting.

Boost walked slowly around her, his voice still a loud whisper. “Do you think she’s—”

“I’m meditating,” Eren said, cracking one eye open to look at them. “Do you need me?”

“No, ma’am. Just curious.”

She opened both eyes and let out a slow breath. “Haven’t you ever seen Master Plo do this?”

Boost shook his head. “No. He doesn’t hang around with us the way you do.”

“Well, he’s a Jedi master. He has a lot of responsibility.”

Comet flopped down on the mat beside her. “Why do you meditate?”

“To strengthen my connection to the Force. To find inner peace, serenity and harmony.”

Boost looked around the noisy, busy gym, full of troopers working out. “In here?”

“I have to be able to make that connection wherever I am, no matter what the circumstances. It’s more important than ever now.”

“Force powers are really something,” Boost told Comet. “General Plo threw Sinker out into space at Abregado, then pulled him back in again. Pretty sweet move.”

“Nice,” Comet said approvingly. “Can you do that, ma’am?”

“If I need to.”

Boost raised an eyebrow at her. “You don’t sound very confident.”

“Well…it’s just not something I’ve had to do very often. It’s like any skill; it takes practice.”

She closed her eyes again and took several deep breaths, shifting her fingers subtly. Boost watched her curiously, then yelped as he felt himself lift off the floor, hovering several feet over the mat. Eren opened her eyes and looked up at him. “Huh. Maybe I’m better at that than I thought.”

Boost eyed her uncertainly as he hovered before a growing crowd. “Now what?”

“Now we—”

“What’s going on here?”

Eren’s head whipped around at the stern voice, and Boost dropped heavily onto the padded mat as she lost her focus. Wolffe was watching them, arms folded across his chest and an unimpressed expression on his face. She smiled sheepishly at him. “Just um… practising.”

“Practicing what? Keeping Boost somewhere he can’t get into trouble?”

Boost was offended. “Commander, that’s not fair!”

“Well, life isn’t,” Wolffe muttered, rolling his eyes at them as he continued past them to the weights. “Don’t let me interrupt you.”

Eren looked back at Boost, then at Comet, then she laughed as she got up to gather her things. “Well, you heard Wolffe. I have his full permission to do that if you’re ever out of line.”

“That’s not what he said!” Comet argued.

“But I knew what he meant.” She pulled her robe back on and fastened her belt, fingers automatically running over her lightsaber hilt. She glanced over to the weights on her way out, blinking when she saw Wolffe had removed the upper half of his black bodysuit. His back was to her as he lifted weights. She could see he was bulkier than the troopers working out nearby, and wondered if that was a commander thing. Then she saw something between his shoulder blades. A black ink outline of the wolf head all the men wore on their armor. She blinked again, feeling flushed as she made a hasty exit, but the image of the muscles flexing and bunching as he lifted the weights would be etched indelibly in her mind for some time.

She made her way quickly through the ship to the briefing room where Master Plo was waiting for her. “Sorry I’m late, Master. I got caught up at the gym.”

“You’re right on time,” Plo said. “But I’m afraid our lesson will need to be cut short today. We have a mission to carry out.”

“A mission?”

Plo nodded. “An unusual mission. You and I and a small squad. We’ll be meeting Master Fisto enroute. You’ll need your cold assault gear.”

“Where are we going?”

“Khorm. The Separatists have a base there, and the Khormi people are under their control. It is time to help them.”

Eren frowned at him. “Why such a small group?”

“This will be something of a covert mission. Do not worry, we will have all the people we need. And we’ll have reinforcements standing by. There’s no reason to think we cannot succeed.”

Chapter Text

“I think I’ll be better at a covert mission.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Less people to worry about?”

Wolffe rolled his eyes at her. She’d noticed his propensity for eye rolls and found it quietly amusing. “Less people means less firepower.”

“But firepower isn’t always the answer.”

“I prefer it when it is.”

“I’m a peacekeeper.”

“And yet here you are in the middle of a war.”

Eren nodded as she got up to make them both caf. “Yeah, that’s pretty fucked up, isn’t it?”

Wolffe blinked, looking up from the holochart they were working on. “What did you just say?”

Eren turned around, looking mortified. “Sorry…I…I just…” Her cheeks were flushed, and she was chewing on her lower lip, unable to look him in the eye.

Wolffe’s shocked expression morphed into a smirk. “You’ve been holding out on us.”

Relieved that he wasn’t angry at her, she went back to making the caf. “I’ve been trying to. Sorry, I’ll try and keep myself under control.”

“Commander, you’re on a ship full of soldiers. Do you think they’re worried about a few swear words?”

“No, but I should be trying to be a good influence, shouldn’t I?”

“That’s not your job here. Your job is to lead and to keep my men alive while we fight this war. Swear all you like. I’d rather know how you really feel.”

Eren passed Wolffe a cup and took her own to sit on one of the long padded bench seats that ran along the wall. “I feel like a fish out of water. This isn’t what I was trained for.”

Wolffe sat beside her with his own caf. “That doesn’t matter now. You’re here. You need to change the way you think.”

She leaned her head back against the wall. “I know. And I know this mission will be different. What do you know about Khorm?”

“It’s cold.”

Eren rolled her eyes at him. “Other than that.”

Wolffe leaned forward and grabbed a datapad off the table. “Do your research. Don’t take my word for it.”

“But—”

“The more you learn for yourself, the better. Maybe you’ll see something there that I won’t know. You’ll see things differently.”

Eren took the datapad and had a sip of caf before switching it on. “You’re right. Different perspectives are important.” She pulled her feet up so she could rest the datapad on her knees as she started reading. After several minutes, she looked over at Wolffe, who was still sitting beside her, taking occasional sips from his cup. “You don’t have to stay here, Wolffe. It’s late.”

But he made no move to get up or leave. “Better than lying awake in my bunk.”

Eren shot him a worried glance but said nothing as she began reading everything she could find out about Khorm. Cold was just the beginning.

Plo Koon walked into the wardroom with Kit Fisto, both of them drawing up short at the sight in front of them. Kit grinned. “Looks like you don’t have too much to worry about. They seem to be getting on okay.”

On the bench on the far side of the room, Wolffe and Eren were asleep. Eren’s head was resting against his shoulder, and his cheek was resting on the top of her head. A datapad hung loosely from her fingers, poised to drop. As the two Jedi masters entered the room fully, the datapad did fall, and Eren sat up with a start, followed by Wolffe, woken by the jerk to his head. He stood quickly and saluted. “Generals. I was uh…we were—”

“We were looking into Khorm,” Eren interrupted. “Making plans.”

“Good idea,” Plo commended. “We’ll be arriving soon. Major Ozzel is briefing the men.”

“Major Ozzel, sir?”

“He’s been sent to assist. We’ll be heading to the surface in about two hours.”

“Very good, sir. I’ll go and get the men ready.” Wolffe saluted again and left the room, leaving Eren with the two Jedi masters.

“Eren, it’s good to see you,” Kit said. “Plo tells me you’re settling in well.”

“I’m trying. I have a lot to learn.”

“I’m pleased to see Wolffe is helping you,” Plo added. “He was…apprehensive about taking on one so young and inexperienced.”

“Well, I have to learn by doing.” She bowed respectfully to the two masters. “I’d better go and get ready. I’ll see you in the hangar.”

Kit watched her leave, then turned to Plo. “She seems to have found her feet.”

Plo nodded. “She’s had her first taste of battle. She knows more about what to expect. And the men have taken her underwing.”

“Including the apprehensive commander?”

“Including Wolffe. He sees her potential, even if she doesn’t.”

Eren shivered, burrowing her chin into the fur lining of her hood. “They weren’t kidding about the cold.” She was waiting with the ground assault squads, trying to stay warm until they got the call. If they got the call. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about being left with the tanks. Offended that they didn’t feel she was good enough to go along or flattered that they had given her the responsibility to bring up the reinforcements. She checked her comlink. Nothing. Growing frustrated, she looked up to where her lieutenant was perched on one of the tanks. “Anything, Fitz?”

“Nothing yet, ma’am. Don’t worry, you’ll know.”

And she did. Less than ten minutes later, all the comms crackled to life. “This is Captain Sharp. Ground assault squad move!”

She looked up at Fitz, but he was already dropping into the tank hatch. “Let’s roll, Commander!”

Eren leapt up onto the hull of the tank, holding onto the forward cannon as they moved out. As they approached the coordinates, she spotted Master Fisto with Sharp and his troopers. He waved them forward, and Eren jumped down to join him. “Master Fisto?”

“We’ve got a Sith assassin on our hands, Eren. Plo is taking care of her, but we need to get the slaves out of the mine before she gets a chance to blow everything.”

Alarmed, she ran to keep up with Fisto, as they raced for the mines where slaves were being held, skidding to a halt when she saw a red lightsaber blade slash down into Wolffe’s helmet. “No!”

Wolffe dropped to the ground, motionless, and she swallowed dryly, not knowing if he was dead or alive. Their armor protected them from a lot, but she knew it was no match for a lightsaber. Without thinking, she flicked her own lightsaber on and bolted after the assassin. She’d make her pay. She ignored the cries of her master to stop, to turn back. But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t see one of their men cut down like that and not do anything about it. What are you going to do, though, Eren?

She ran faster than she’d ever run before, catching sight of the other woman as she made it out of the mine. Willing herself to move faster, she flicked the second blade on, holding it up to deflect the blow when the assassin wheeled on her. She parried several blows, trying not to cede too much ground. But the assassin was fast, deadly. “Who are you, child? You’re a fool to think you can defeat me!”

Eren said nothing; she wasn’t here to debate. And she was already breathless. She was holding her ground now, deflecting the red blows as she spun her own lightsaber. The assassin took two steps back, then another, and then she turned and ran. Bewildered, Eren took off after her, enraged when she saw her leap for a small speeder. Summoning everything she had, she threw herself at the speeder, clinging on as it shot out at speed across the ice.

Grimacing, she hauled herself up onto the hull. Bad idea, Eren. But the Sith was already on her feet, turning to face her in the speeding vehicle. She flinched back as the red blade came down close to her face. Too close. The assassin smirked at her. “Only one of us is making it out of this alive, and it’s not you.”

“We’re both making it out of this alive,” Eren gritted out, deflecting another blow. “You’re coming back to face justice!”

The assassin just laughed, a sinister, snide laugh. “You know, you were entertaining at first, but now I’m bored.” Moving fast, she lunged forward, swinging her red blade so fast that Eren struggled to keep up with it. She took a step back, grimacing as she glanced down at the rocky, ice ground whizzing by below them. She took another step back, ducking a swing of the red blade, then a foot caught her hard, and she flew backwards off the speeder, landing hard on the ground below.

She lay there for a moment, winded. She’d failed. As she lay there, trying to get her breath and her bearings, she was cast back to Geonosis, to lying in the hot sand by a burning gunship. Only this time, she lay on the hard, frozen ground, too stunned to know if she was injured or not. Struggling and wincing, she managed to get onto her hands and knees, stopping like that to take some deep breaths. She knelt there for a moment, then reached for her comlink. But when she pulled the small device from her leather vambrace, she saw it was crushed and inactive, as though it had taken the brunt of the heavy landing. “Damn…”

She tried to get to her feet, crying out at the pain in her wrist as she tried to push herself up. She was bleeding as well. Cust and gashes from the frozen rocks scattered over her body. She closed her eyes and tried to get a sense of what direction to go. It was starting to snow, and the visibility was poor. Sensing nothing, she wrapped her coat more tightly around herself and sat on a nearby boulder. Better to stay in one place and wait than to go wandering off into the icy wasteland.

Wolffe blinked as he came around. Only he wasn’t blinking. Only one eyelid was moving. His right eye felt…strange. There was no pain, just a feeling that something wasn’t right. And he felt groggy from sedation and pain relief. Someone’s face came into focus then, a familiar one. He smiled to himself. They were all clones. Every face was familiar. But then the face spoke. “Glad to see the pain relief is working. Maybe I gave you too much, though. I don’t usually get beaming smiles like that.”

Grim. “Sitrep…Sergeant.”

Sergeant Grim pulled up a stool and sat beside the bunk. Time to be direct. They didn’t call him Grim for nothing. “You’ve lost your eye, sir. There’s nothing I can do. You know what lightsabers are like…”

Wolffe lay there, stunned. An eye. That was a significant injury. The kind of injury that sent most troopers back to Kamino, or—

“General Plo said not to worry,” Grim said, as though reading his mind. “He said once we’re back on Coruscant, he’ll make sure you’re prioritised for an implant. I’ll keep you on pain relief until then. Implants are beyond my pay grade.”

Wolffe struggled into a sitting position, reluctantly accepting his medic’s help. “What happened down there? Where’s the general now?”

“Still on the surface, leading a search for the commander.”

“What…what do you mean?”

“Apparently, she saw what happened to you and took off after Ventress. No sign of her since.”

“Comms?”

“Nothing. Warthog’s leading an aerial search.”

“Fuck…” Wolffe sank back against the pillow Grim put behind him. He raised his arm to use his comlink, but his armor had been removed. “Grim, I need my comm.”

“No, you need to rest. I mean it. I’ll keep you posted.”

So, Wolffe lay there, helpless. If anything happened to her, it would be his fault.

Warthog brought the gunship in low. As low as he could manage without skimming the jagged, icy rocks sprouting up from the ground. General Plo’s voice came into the cockpit. “Warthog, go back over the rocks behind us. I sense something.”

“You got it, boss.”

He wheeled the ship around and opened the side hatches, giving the general and the troopers with him the best chance to see the ground below. He kept his own eyes peeled. The sooner they picked up the commander and got out of there, the better. He didn’t like the look of the black clouds rolling in from the west. He brought the ship around for a second sweep when something caught his eye. “General, something at three o’clock.”

“I see it, Warthog. Take us down.”

Plo leapt from the ship, followed by several of his men. He squatted and brushed the fresh snow away from the lump that could have been just another rock. But it wasn’t just another rock. It was his new padawan. Pale and frozen. But she was alive. He nodded to the men hovering nearby, and they lifted her between them and got her onto the gunship. Plo followed them and opened his comm. “Warthog, let’s get out of here.”

“You betcha, sir!”

Eren was conscious by the time the gunship landed in the hangar. Plo was the first to disembark. “Fitz, get Eren to medbay. I must report to the council, and then I’ll be down to check.”

“Yes, sir.”

Fitz kept an arm around Eren’s waist as he helped her down, then they made their way to the nearest lift. She stopped Fitz, reaching out to pat the nose of the ship they’d just arrived on. Plo’s Bros. It always made her smile. “Good luck,” she explained, seeing Fitz’s confused expression.

“It was this time. I’ve got a feeling you’re in for a lecture on impulse control.”

“Probably. Fitz, is Wolffe…is—”

“He’s alive. We got him straight up here to Grim.”

She exhaled in relief, letting Fitz haul her along the corridor to the medbay. “You’ll probably get a lecture from Grim as well.”

“I deserve it.”

“Nah, you did what we all wanted to do. Just bad luck to lose your comm.”

Eren smiled gratefully at him. “Thanks, Fitz.”

But Fitz was distracted. He’d spotted his commander, sitting on the edge of a bed inside the door, a bright, white dressing over his right eye. And the other eye was fixed on Fitz and Eren. Fitz nodded to his superior officer. “Commander.”

Eren pulled away from Fitz, wincing as she took her full weight on an aching left leg. “I’ll be fine from here, Fitz.”

“If you say so…”

Eren limped over to Wolffe’s bed, dismayed by the stark evidence of his injury. “How…how bad is—”

“The eye’s gone.”

Eren gasped audibly, almost stumbling on her bad leg. Wolffe grabbed her arm and pulled her down to sit beside him. “Are you badly injured?”

“No…just bruises and a few scrapes. Nothing serious.”

Wolffe looked her over with his remaining eye. It looked like more than bruises and scrapes. She was battered and bruised and bleeding from various cuts and grazes. “You could have been killed going after Ventress. That was a bad command decision.”

Eren nodded, staring down at her hands. “I know. And I put men at risk to come and find me.”

“Why do it then? Why take that risk?”

“Because...when I saw what she did to you, I wanted to make her pay. I thought…I thought she’d killed you. And I wanted her to pay for that.”

Wolffe was silent for a long moment. That wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. “Vengeance doesn’t sound very Jedi-like.”

“It’s not.”

He looked down to see her hands were trembling, and instinctively reached out to wrap his fingers around them. She was still cold, her fingers stiff with it. And her wrist was bruised and swollen where her comm usually sat. She was in pain. She needed to see Grim. But for now, she was with him. He felt her move closer, leaning against his side, resting her head on his shoulder as the warmth from his hands seeped into hers. She could stay with him for now.

In the doorway, Plo Koon stood watching. His padawan and his commander, huddled together, side by side, their backs to him. Both injured and exhausted. Attachment was forbidden by the Jedi code, but he sensed this was something different. Something they both needed. Camaraderie, friendship, a bond of understanding. Eren needed someone to help her become the leader she needed to be, and Wolffe needed someone to connect with. Someone who wasn’t his senior or a brother clone. Perhaps this was the Force at work.

Chapter Text

Eren looked up when she heard the bed shift. Wolffe was waking up. She stood by the bed as he opened his eyes, the sight of the cybernetic implant taking her by surprise. It was white, with a circular outline where the iris would be, almost like the reticle on a scope. The scar above and below his eye was still an angry red, but vastly improved from the way it had looked before the surgery. She didn’t say anything, giving him time to get his bearings. Then, he seemed to focus on her. “Commander?”

“Wolffe, how do you feel?”

He blinked, then blinked again, getting used to the sensation. He looked around the room, then covered his left eye and blinked again. “I can see.”

She smiled, relieved. “No pain?”

“No.” He frowned at her. “What are you doing here, kid?”

“Master Plo didn’t want you here alone, and he had to go to the Temple.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I know. But he wanted to…we wanted to make sure you were treated properly. No shortcuts.”

He lay silently for a moment, then sat up abruptly. Worried, Eren grabbed his arm. “I don’t think you’re supposed to –”

But Wolffe wasn’t listening. “I need to get back to my—”

Eren quickly averted her eyes as he threw the blanket off to get out of bed. He was dressed only in underwear and seemed utterly unaware as he tried to shake off the aftereffects of the sedative. Trying to hold him down with one hand, she blindly fumbled to pull the blanket back up. “Wolffe, you need to stay in bed!”

Her tone seemed to get through to him. He looked down and saw the pale hospital blanket sitting low on his hips. Very low. He yanked the blanket back up to his waist. “Where’s my armor?”

“It’s in the locker. But Wolffe, you need to be properly discharged. You can’t just walk out of here!”

He exhaled frustratedly and sat back. “Fine.”

Brave enough to look at him again, Eren resumed her seat. She almost wished she hadn’t looked. She knew Wolffe was a little bigger than the other clones, more muscular. But he had more body hair as well. Everything about him was just…more. She took a breath, pushing down her embarrassment. “You need to wait for the droid to check you out. Fitz is waiting with the speeder to take you back to barracks.”

He said nothing for a while, just lay staring at the ceiling, blinking occasionally as though it was a new skill. Eventually, he looked over at her. “How long have you been here?”

“A few hours. We got here just after they took you into surgery.” Her fingers almost unconsciously went to the node on the back of her skull. “I remember how strange it felt when I got my implants. It took a while to get used to them. Like…I can hear, but it’s not the same. It’s different enough to notice.”

“That’s what this feels like. I can see, but it’s a little different. I think the implant’s better than my real eye.”

“You almost sound like you’re saying it’s a good thing.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. I’d rather have both eyes as they used to be. Just like I’m sure you’d rather have your hearing like it used to be.”

She shrugged sadly. “Yes. But I was lucky. I survived.”

He frowned at her. He’d never spoken to her about what had happened. He’d heard, but they’d never really discussed it. “How long were you without…”

“Long enough to learn how to lipread from a distance.”

His frown morphed into an unreadable expression. “Handy skill to have.” He raised his hands to drag his fingers through his hair. “Hopefully, Comet doesn’t want to give me a robotic arm either.”

Eren smiled at him as a medical droid bustled into the room. “We could be unstoppable. I’ll wait outside.”

The noise was deafening as they drew closer to the surface of Felucia. Eren managed to keep her balance as the gunship ducked and weaved its way down through the droid fighters. They’d been diverted to extract General Kenobi and General Skywalker and their troops. And she knew Ahsoka Tano was with them as well. Ahsoka was a padawan, too, although much younger than Eren was.

She peered out through the open side hatches, yanking her head back in as a droid fighter exploded into flames as it whooshed by. She grinned when she saw Warthog go spinning past in his Headhunter, giving her a thumbs up as he sped by. He was quickly out of sight, and she glanced over at Fitz. “I need to get some lessons with Warthog.”

“Shouldn’t you be learning from General Plo?”

She shrugged as the gunship dropped vertically to land. “Warthog seems to have more fun.”

Fitz was too busy firing at droids to answer, laying down cover for the men of the 501st and the 212th to board the gunships. Eren thumbed both blades of her lightsaber on and jumped out. She knew she could provide more effective cover outside the ship. That’s why she was there. She ran forward, deflecting blaster bolts as the troopers retreated to the ships. Fitz and his squad came out to join her, waiting until the last man was aboard before they retreated themselves.

She looked out as several of the ships peeled off to go further into the jungle. “Where are they going?”

“To pick up Commander Tano and her squads. She didn’t retreat when she got the order.” The man she knew to be Marshal Commander Cody pulled his helmet off, an irritated look on his face. She straight away saw the large scar around his left eye, another reminder of the sacrifices the clones were making. After what happened to Wolffe, she’d made a promise to herself that she would never deliberately do anything to put her own men at risk. They deserved better than that. Cody gave her a weary salute. “Nice lightsaber work out there, ma’am. I’ve never seen a Jedi with a double blade before.”

“Oh…well, not many of us use them. Master Krell uses two at once.”

“Remind me never to stand too close to him.” That was Captain Rex, General Skywalker’s senior clone officer. She knew who he was as well. She’d tried to learn and memorise as many of the battalions and officers as she could. If she was fighting in this war, she was going to give it her best.

She tried to suppress a smile as she looked at Captain Rex. “Jedi have pretty good special awareness.”

“Most of the time. Where’s Wolffe?”

“Up on the ship. He’s not back on active duty yet.”

Rex looked at Cody. “That’ll put him in a good mood.”

This time, she couldn’t hide the smile. “You know Commander Wolffe pretty well then?”

“Oh yeah,” Cody said. “I imagine he’s stomping around like a sand bear with a sore head.”

“Something like that. I don’t think he likes being away from the action. Maybe seeing you will cheer him up.”

Rex snorted as the gunship docked in the hangar with a thud. “Somehow, I doubt that.” He gave her a polite nod before he jumped out with Cody to reconvene with their Jedi and round up their men.

Eren stood back and watched as the two officers stood talking with Master Kenobi and Master Skywalker. She could see the trust in their relationship, and she felt a pang of envy, wondering if Wolffe would ever put that kind of trust in her. She knew he still watched her like a hawk – he knew her intentions were good, but her ability was still lacking. She still struggled to give orders or manage the men. They mostly seemed to manage themselves, but she knew she needed to step up and start acting like a leader. As she watched, Wolffe arrived on deck in his grey naval uniform. He looked annoyed. Frustrated. She saw him roll his eyes as he spoke to Cody and Rex. Somehow, his eye rolls were even more dramatic with his implant and the fierce scar.

Ahsoka Tano stood off to the side, looking sheepish, and Eren wondered how much trouble she was in for disobeying orders. Even within the Jedi ranks, there was still a chain of command, and she liked to think that she would always follow orders. After Khorm, she knew now not to run off as her anger dictated.

The fighters started arriving back in the hangar then, and she saw Master Plo climb out of his and stride over to convene with the other Jedi. Feeling on the outer, she stayed back, observing. She didn’t have the confidence to go and insert herself into that group, so she stayed where she was as they left the hangar. She spotted Warthog jumping down from his Headhunter and jogged over. “Have fun out there?”

“Didn’t you see me wave?”

“I saw you. Looked a little like showing off to me.”

Warthog pulled his helmet off to reveal his grinning face. “It was a lot like showing off. What’s up, Slasher.”

Eren blinked at him. “What?”

“Slasher. Haven’t you heard the boys calling you that?”

“No…” She was bewildered now. “Why are they calling me that?”

“That’d be Comet. After Dantooine, he came back on board telling everyone you were taking off tinnie’s heads faster than a rotary weed slasher.”

“But—"

“Sorry, Commander. You’re stuck with it now. I don’t make the rules.”

Eren scowled at him. “I feel like I could order you to stop.”

“You could try. But we’d all know you didn’t mean it.”

“So…no one takes me seriously? You all just laugh at me behind my back?” This was worse than she’d thought. First they all thought she was a child, now they were making up nicknames for her behind her back.

But Warthog looked mortified. “Hey, absolutely not, Commander! No one is laughing at you behind your back. No one. You’re one of us now. That’s why you get the nickname. You’ve shown us what you’re made of.”

Feeling guilty for overreacting, she leaned back on an ordnance crate. “Sorry, Warthog. I just feel like I’m not a very good soldier. And I’m definitely not good at giving orders.”

“Ah, you’ll be fine,” Warthog said dismissively. “You know what you’re doing. You just need to shout louder.”

She chuckled at his assessment. “Shouting was frowned upon at the Temple. And I feel weird doing it with my implants – I’m not a good judge of my own volume anymore.”

“Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to start. Now, other than my unqualified advice on leadership, what else can I do for you?”

“I need some flying lessons.”

“Seriously? So, you can’t shout or fly? What did they teach you in that place?”

This time, she laughed properly. She stretched her hand out, focusing her energy on lifting a crate and spinning it in the air before lowering it again. When she opened her eyes, Warthog was laughing too. “Okay, I can see how that would have been fun to learn. But it’s no help in a fighter.”

“No, it isn’t. I need a little instruction.”

Warthog thought for a moment. “We need to wait and see where they’re sending us next. But once we’re in one place for a while, I can give you some lessons.” He chuckled to himself as they walked towards the lift to take them out of the hangar. “I never thought I’d be teaching a Jedi.”

“Well, don’t get too excited. I’m not a Jedi yet.”

He looked around the hangar that was beginning to empty. “You should try shouting while we’re down here. No one’ll hear.”

Eren looked around. There were still several dozen troopers on the deck, locking down the fighters and gunships that had just come in. “They’ll hear me.”

Warthog gave a dramatic sigh as he looked around the hangar, his eyes lighting up as he hit upon an idea. He grabbed her arm and pushed her over to a Y-wing that was tucked into a dark corner, waiting on repairs. He popped the hatch and gave her a nudge. “Hop in and seal the hatch. Then you’re good to go. You have to start somewhere.”

She hesitated only briefly before climbing up into the cockpit. Warthog was right. No time like the present. She looked down at the unfamiliar console. She was used to driving a basic speeder around Coruscant as required. “How do I close it?”

“The big silver button with a diagram of the hatch on it.”

She scowled down at his amused expression before pressing the button to seal herself in. She sat for a moment, trying to think of what to say. What to shout, really. She was here to get loud. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth. “Follow me, men!”

She looked around nervously, worried about yelling. She felt ridiculous. She looked down at Warthog. He just shrugged at her, then tapped the chrono on his vambrace. Get a move on.

She sat for a moment, all her anxieties competing for her attention. You’re not up to this. You don’t have what it takes. You’re not good enough. You’re weak. You can’t even hear properly. You shouldn’t have survived. Feeling almost breathless, she opened her mouth and screamed. “Fuuuuuuck!”

On the deck below, Warthog blinked when he heard the muffled expletive. He wasn’t that surprised. The troopers often heard her muttering curse words under her breath when she was distracted or focused on something. She didn’t seem to notice unless someone pointed it out, and then she was mortified. He gave her a few minutes in the fighter to calm down. He didn’t know why she was so worried about what everyone thought. All the men seemed to like her. They’d seen her in action, and they’d heard about her trying to chase down Asajj Ventress. They knew she had their back. That's what counted most for the clones. Trust and loyalty. That and the fact that she seemed to genuinely enjoy spending time with them, getting to know them. It seemed to matter to her.

The hatch opened with a hiss, and she stuck her head out. “Did you hear that?”

“Oh yeah.”

She looked slightly mortified as she climbed down, taking the hand he offered despite not needing it. “It felt kind of good to get that out.”

Warthog laughed as he locked the Y-wing down again. “Just don’t let General Plo hear you. He might not appreciate having a padawan who goes around swearing at the top of her lungs.”

“He knew my master. He won’t be surprised.”

Eren yawned as she slipped into the wardroom. She was tired, but sleep wasn’t coming. She struggled with sleep as it was, but the lack of clear night and day in transit made it even worse. She stopped in the doorway when she saw Wolffe hunched over the small sink, his face under the running tap. “What are you doing?”

Muttering under his breath, he turned the tap off and turned to face her. “I’ve got something in my eye. I’m trying to flush it out.”

She moved closer to see that the skin around his new implant was red and inflamed. “Have you been rubbing at it?” He didn’t answer that, and she gave him an unimpressed look as she pushed him towards a chair. “Everything is still healing in there. You need to be more gentle with it.”

“Gentle,” he grunted. “I’m trying to get back on active duty. Not lie around with my face wrapped up in pillows.”

Eren had to bite her lip to keep from laughing as she went through the overhead lockers to find a medkit. Wolffe had shown himself to be a terrible patient as he recovered from his injury and was particularly grumpy and reactive. She unpacked a medkit on the table and found what she was looking for. She snapped the cap off the bottle of sterile eyewash and used her hand on his forehead to tip his head back. “Hold still and keep your eye open.”

Wolffe did as he was told, sitting motionless as she squeezed the drops into his eye. He felt the liquid spill down his cheek, but she was quick to grab a piece of medical gauze to soak it up. “Now blink.”

Again, Wolffe followed her instructions, blinking several times as she used the gauze to absorb the wash. Then she dabbed the end of her little finger against his cheek, pulling it back triumphantly. “Got it!”

She held her finger out for Wolffe to see the black eyelash there. He blinked several times, satisfied that the source of irritation was gone. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” She held her finger out again. “Do you want to make a wish, or is that not really…”

He gave her one of his looks as he went back to the sink. “Want a caf?”

“Yes, thank you.”

She took a seat at the table, gratefully accepting the hot caf he placed in front of her. He looked her up and down. She looked like she was dressed for bed, a warm sweater pulled on over leggings. “Can’t sleep?”

“No. You?”

He shrugged, taking a sip of his caf. “I’ll catch up later. Everything go okay down on the surface?”

“I think so. Why, what have you heard?”

“I heard that Commander Tano disobeyed direct orders and put her men at risk. She put my men at risk to extract them.”

“Master Plo said that the Council will deal with it.”

“I hope so. I don’t want to lose men to the reckless behaviour of someone else’s padawan.”

“What about your own?”

“You’re not my padawan. And you’re not that reckless.”

“I knew Wolffe would be worse than usual after that kind of injury, but I wasn’t expecting the lecture on keeping my padawan in line!”

Cody glanced at Rex as they strode along the corridor of the Hand of Justice, in transit to Coruscant. “I only came close to losing an eye. Actually losing one…well, he’s lucky General Plo made sure he wasn’t sent back to Kamino. I can forgive a little grumpiness.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I guess. I’m not sure what he expects me to do about Commander Tano, though. She’s Skywalker’s responsibility, not mine.”

“And if that’s the case, good luck to us all.”

Rex shoved Cody in the back as they went into the wardroom, slamming into the commander’s armored body as he stopped in the doorway. The room was already occupied. Two bodies lay slumped over the table, fast asleep. Wolffe and the new padawan. Their heads were almost touching, resting on folded arms, half-drunk mugs of caf nearby.

Rex opened his mouth to say something, but Cody pushed him back out of the room. “Let them sleep. He’s been struggling since Abregado. And then Khorm. He’s had a tough run.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Rex agreed, as they slipped quietly out into the corridor. “And a new padawan.”

“She seems okay,” Cody observed. “Better impulse control than yours.”

“Big talk for a man who doesn’t have to deal with a padawan.” They headed back towards the lift. “I guess we’ll have to slum it and get caf in the mess.”

Chapter Text

“Eren, are you alright?”

Eren looked up from staring at her hands, deep in thought. “Master Plo. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“That’s alright. You looked as though you were far away with your thoughts.”

She nodded, a troubled frown on her face. “Responsibility.”

Plo Koon nodded thoughtfully as he sat across from her in the wardroom. “It is one of the most important tenets of Jedi life. The responsibility to protect all life.”

Eren thought for a while. “But how do we do that when we lose so many troopers in the fight? Don’t their lives matter as well?”

“They matter a great deal. To me, and clearly to you too.”

“The 104th has already been reformed from the ground up. I don’t want anything like that to happen again. I don’t want to do anything to risk—”

“Ahsoka is young. She took a risk, and she will learn from the consequences. She still has much to learn.”

“But so do I.”

“You have age and wisdom on your side, Eren. You may not see it, but I do. You do not have that reckless streak.”

“Don’t I? When I went after Ventress…that was reckless. It put lives at risk coming to find me.”

Plo smiled beneath his mask. “And have you done anything that careless since?”

“No.”

“Then you learned from your mistake. I understand why you went after her; the temptation was there for me, too. But the time was not right. Commander Wolffe’s wellbeing was the priority.”

“What would have happened to Wolffe if you hadn’t intervened?”

“I don’t know. Medical stations are still being constructed and deployed, and we don’t have full services available yet. But it’s coming. I hope that one way or another, he would have been treated appropriately.”

“I don’t want…what happened at Abregado to—”

“It won’t. We will see to it that it doesn’t.”

Eren nodded. She wasn’t entirely convinced, but she had to believe. “Where are we going now?”

“We have a briefing with the Council. Master Koth has been taken prisoner by Grievous, and we must plan his rescue.”

Alarmed, she followed Plo to the briefing room where Wolffe was waiting with a comms officer. She stood back to listen to the briefing, horrified by the message Grievous had sent that showed Master Koth being tortured. She glanced over to see Wolffe watching the message intently, with a frown on his face. He stepped forward and tapped Master Plo on the shoulder. He’d seen something.

Surprised, Eren watched as the message was replayed, revealing Master Koth’s coded hand signals that gave his location. Wolffe had seen them when nobody else had. She glanced at him again as the link was shut down. He was back in armor, back on the job. He turned and strode from the room, nodding at her as he passed. “Master Plo, should we go and help them find Master Koth?”

“Not unless we are needed. There are other parts of the galaxy under threat.”

Wolffe looked pointedly at the chrono on the wall as Eren skidded into the wardroom. Her face was flushed from running, and she was out of breath. “Sorry…I…late…”

“I’m aware.”

She got herself a glass of water and took a few sips before sitting. “Sorry. I had to run from the hangar.”

Wolffe pulled up a holochart of the Saleucami System. “What were you doing there?”

“Just a quick flying lesson. Warthog’s teaching me.”

Wolffe gave her one of his looks. “Warthog?”

“Yes…”

“Why Warthog?”

“Well…he’s a good pilot.”

“Do you really not know how to—”

“Yes, I’ve already had that discussion with Warthog. No, I don’t know how to fly very well. Happy?”

“Not really. I’d rather have two Jedi who knew how to fly. Why don’t you know? General Plo’s one of the best pilots around.”

“And I’ve only been with him for a short time! Remember?”

“Alright, alright,” Wolffe said placatingly, “don’t get your braid in a twist.”

Eren tried to scowl at him, but she couldn't help but laugh at his turn of phrase. “Is that how you know I’m annoyed? My braid twists up.”

“No. I see it in your eyes.” Eren froze, glass halfway to her lips. Wolffe seemed equally surprised by his own words and quickly tried to cover. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking about your braid like that. I know it’s important.”

“It’s okay,” she said with a shrug.

“It’s not really. I shouldn’t be speaking to you like that. You’re an officer in this battalion, and—”

“Wolffe, it’s fine. I still haven’t really earned my stripes yet.”

“Do you really think that?”

“I’ve still got a lot to learn.”

“Which is why you should be on time for our sessions.”

She tried to cover her smile in her drink. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Wolffe muttered something under his breath as he adjusted the projector, then he looked back at her with a curious frown. “What do those beads mean?”

Eren’s fingers went almost unconsciously to the two beads at the end of her braid. “My master gave me this one,” she said, indicating the copper-coloured one. “The other one was on a bracelet I was wearing when I was brought to the Temple.”

“How old were you?”

“I’m not sure, exactly. About three or four, I guess. I don’t remember much about that time.” She turned the wide ring on her left hand. “My mother sent this along with me. But I don’t remember her…”

Wolffe sat back with his arms folded across his chest. “You’re like us then.”

“No. You all have each other—your brothers. I suppose my family is within the Temple now. They’re all I’ve got.”

“Not much of a family if they didn’t even teach you to fly.”

“I know the basics!” she protested. “But I need to know more than that. We all get taught basic piloting skills…just not how to fly a fighter.”

Wolffe gave her one of his ambiguous looks and nodded at the chart. “I want a rescue plan to retrieve General Koth.”

“But—”

“I know we’re not doing it. But it’s a good opportunity to work through a tactical plan.”

Eren thought for a moment, then she glanced slyly at Wolffe through the holochart projected over the table. “Well…I’d just bust in there, lightsaber spinning. Both blades.”

Wolffe looked back at her, entirely unimpressed. “What?”

“To take down Grievous…”

“Latest intelligence has him wielding four blades.”

“But I’m younger and faster.”

Wolffe just rolled his eyes at her. “Humour me and come up with a plan B.”

Wolffe boarded the gunship after General Plo and Commander Tano. He wondered why Tano was with the general instead of his own padawan. But given Tano’s recent behaviour, he suspected it was to keep an eye on her. They were heading to the surface to rescue her master; she might be unpredictable. He spotted Eren boarding another ship with Fitz and Boost, stopping to pat the design on the nose as she always seemed to do. Commander Kilyc. Not Eren. He needed to stop thinking of her by her first name. If he treated her more like the officer she was, she might feel more confident stepping up.

He glanced over as the side hatch closed, seeing that she was looking right at him. She raised a hand in acknowledgement as the hatch on her own ship closed, and then they were taking off. He wondered why it didn’t irk him more that she needed so much guidance. He wasn’t known for his patience. But she was earnest and sincere, and the more she knew, the more confident she was, the better off they’d all be.

He tapped the comm on the side of his helmet. “Warthog, talk to me.”

“Not looking good, Commander.” The hatches slid open, and he could see the reason for Warthog’s concern. The wreckage of the Endurance was there, right where Skywalker’s droid had said it would be. But it was already burning and in danger of being consumed by flames at any minute.

The other two ships were hovering nearby, waiting for orders. “Get us in there, Warthog. As close as you can.”

Once the generals had been located, he waited for General Plo and Tano to steady the ship before taking Comet to retrieve Windu and Skywalker. The ship was creaking and groaning as he helped Skywalker back to their gunship. He was breathing hard under his helmet. They might not make it. The lines tethering the gunship to the bridge were failing, and the ship was slipping below them. They’d have to jump. He kept an arm around the injured Jedi, and they jumped. Someone grabbed Skywalker and hauled him in, and hands were reaching for him when he felt one of his feet slip off the edge of the open hatch. He hovered there briefly before he felt something on his back, as though a hand was holding him up, supporting him long enough for his men to haul him inside. He turned around to see Eren hanging out the side of her own ship, arm outstretched. She’d caught him with the Force. Just in time, too, as the bridge exploded into flames, narrowly missing the gunships as they made their way back to the surface.

Back on board, he jumped out of the ship to let medics get to Skywalker and Windu. They were walking wounded, so they’d likely be fine. They were Jedi; they seemed to have more lives than tookas. He went over to where Fitz and Kilyc were chatting by their own ship. “Thanks for the save down there, Commander.”

“Oh, well, I couldn’t just leave you with your ass hanging out like that.”

Wolffe pulled his helmet off and raised an eyebrow at her, ignoring Fitz’s sniggers. “What did you just say?”

“Umm...you’re welcome.” She sidled past him with her head down. “I’d better go and see if Master Plo needs me.”

Wolffe watched her go, then turned his disapproving gaze onto Fitz. “Lieutenant, go and let the admiral know we’re all stowed away down here.”

“Yes, sir.”

He made sure his lieutenant was out of sight before allowing the small smile to cross his face. Kilyc said the strangest things sometimes. But the more those thoughts came out of her mouth, the more he knew she felt comfortable around him. And he wanted that. He wanted her to feel like she could relax and make jokes with him the way she did with his men. What he didn’t understand was why it mattered so much to him.

Wolffe stood on the bridge, looking out over Coruscant. They’d brought Skywalker and Windu all the way back rather than transfer them to a smaller transport. And General Plo had decided a shore leave was in order while they waited on new directives. Admiral Coburn came up beside him. “I’ll be taking the Hand into dock for a routine diagnostic scan and weapons check.”

Wolffe looked at the admiral, confused. “Sir?”

“Just in case you were planning to stay aboard. You can’t.”

“Right. No, I’m going to the surface.” He was definitely going to the surface. He needed a drink and some downtime. And he wanted to see if anyone knew what had happened to Ponds. As far as they knew, he was still a hostage of the bounty hunters.

He left the bridge to go back to his quarters, giving orders over his comm as he went. “Fitz, I want you to supervise the transports to the surface. I don’t want to see a free-for-all like last time.”

“I’ll do my best, sir.”

Rolling his eyes, Wolffe tapped in the code to unlock his door, forcing himself not to jump when a voice startled him. “Free for all?”

Kilyc. Her quarters were next door, but she moved almost silently. “The men get a little excited when they get leave. It doesn’t happen very often.”

“Oh. Well…I hope you all have fun.”

“Hmm.” He opened his door and was about to step inside, but something stopped him. “What about you, Commander?”

Eren’s hand hovered over her own keypad. “What about me?”

“Is it a shore leave for you as well?” He honestly didn’t know, and it had never occurred to him to ask. He didn’t know what Jedi did in their spare time. Or if they even had spare time.

“Umm…I don’t think so. I’ll go back to the Temple and…I don’t know…meditate.”

“Meditate.”

“Yes...”

He frowned at her. “Don’t you have other…padawans that you see? Friends?”

“Well, yes, but we’re all spread out across the galaxy. It’s difficult to keep track.” She thought about her old friend, Nahdar Vebb. He’d been the one she’d snuck out of the Temple with, creeping out to explore Coruscant nightlife. They’d spent a night drinking and dancing in some seedy club on the lower levels once, sneaking back in before dawn, giggling and tipsy. Of course, they’d been caught out and spoken sternly to, but she knew Master Arynn and Master Fisto weren’t overly concerned. In fact, Master Arynn had divulged her own secrets and adventures of her younger years. But Nahdar had been killed a couple of months ago, not long after passing his trials. Dead at the hands of General Grievous. Just a few days ago, she’d been making jokes about the cyborg general. Somehow, that made things a little easier to deal with. It didn’t make sense, but a lot of things about this war didn’t make sense. She sighed sadly, almost startled when she saw Wolffe was still there, waiting.

He pulled his helmet off to reveal a concerned frown. “Commander, everything alright?”

She nodded, forcing a smile. “Yes. Enjoy your leave, Wolffe.”

Wolffe waited until her door closed behind her before going into his own cabin. He leaned back against the closed door. He needed this leave. He needed some time to get his head together. A chance to have a drink and not have to think about anything to do with the war. He didn’t need much, but that would about do it.

Down on the hangar deck, Wolffe saw Kilyc with a meagre bag of belongings, talking with General Plo, Sinker and Boost. Kilyc shrugged at something Plo said, then she waved to the two troopers before following her master to a small transport that would take them directly to the Jedi Temple. Rolling his shoulders back, he climbed aboard the nearest transport. He could trust Fitz to handle things up here until everyone was offloaded. He sat on the nearest seat and yawned. Maybe he’d just sleep in the barracks for a few days. That sounded nice, too.

Chapter Text

79’s was heaving by the time Wolffe finally made it through the front door. He had a love-hate relationship with this place. Clones were welcome, and their drinks went on a GAR tab. But it was always overcrowded—too loud, too busy, too many civilians. But at least he could get a drink and pretend he wasn’t fighting in a war. Just for a little while.

He shouldered his way through the crowd, spotting a familiar blond head at the bar. He approached from behind and shoved the man’s shoulder. “Rex. What are you doing here?”

Rex almost fell off his barstool at the hard shove, just managing to salvage his drink. “Nice to see you too, Wolffe.”

Wolffe flagged the bartender over to order a round of drinks. “How long are you stuck here?”

“Until they let Skywalker out of medical.”

“Ah, the mystical Halls of Healing.”

Rex snorted. “Yeah. If only we were all so lucky.”

Wolffe shrugged and took a sip of his beer. “Could be worse. I could have been sent back to Kamino. General Plo made sure I was treated here.”

Rex raised his glass and tapped it against Wolffe’s. “Here’s to that. How’s the implant?”

Wolffe waved his hand at the droid for another round of drinks. “It gets the job done. If anything, it’s probably better than what I had there previously.”

Rex chuckled as he drained his glass and reached for a full one. “If you’d gone to the Halls of Healing, they might have given you a pretty blue one instead.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes as he made himself comfortable at the bar. He had drinks, someone to talk to. He could relax for a while. “Blue’s overrated.”

Several hours and many drinks later, Rex gave him a shove. “Uh, Wolffe…isn’t that your padawan?”

Wolffe turned his cynical gaze on the blond captain, wondering if he’d had more to drink than he thought. “Firstly, I don’t have a padawan. Secondly, just how much have you had to drink? Thirdly, there is no way Commander Kilyc would—"

Rex just smirked, his eyes tracking back to the dancefloor. Wolffe followed his gaze, his eyes going wide at the sight. His padawan – no - his general’s padawan, out on the dancefloor, clutching a neon green drink in her hand as she danced.

Squinting through the flashing lights and moving bodies, he saw his sergeant with an equally lurid drink in his hand. Just beyond Sinker, he made out Boost’s easy-to-spot head, and Warthog not far away. He took a deep breath, ready to charge across the club, when he felt a hand on his arm. “Don’t make a scene, Wolffe, you’ll just emba—"

Wolffe shook the hand off, already striding purposefully to the dancefloor, stopping short just behind Sinker’s back. “Sergeant!” he barked out, making himself easily heard above the music. “Care to tell me just exactly what is going on here?”

Sinker turned slowly, the straw from his drink jammed between his lips. “Commander,” he said cautiously, willing himself not to step backwards at the fury he saw on his commander’s face.

“What in all the fucking hells do you think you’re doing?” Wolffe hissed. “Do you have any idea how much trouble this could cause? What if the general found out?”

“But this was the general’s idea,” Sinker protested, backed up by Boost, who had appeared behind his shoulder, nodding in furious agreement.

“Lying isn’t going to save you here, Sergeant!” Wolffe said angrily, distracted by the sight of his padawan, seeing that she’d stripped off her outer layers and was clad simply in a thin black tank top and her usual grey pants. Without the loose robes, her figure was decidedly unchildlike. Her face was flushed from alcohol and dancing, and there was a sheen of sweat on her exposed skin as she waved her drink in the air and hip-bumped a random trooper.

Eyes narrowing sharply, breathing hard, he turned back to his sergeant. “You’ve got exactly thirty seconds to explain yourself, or I airlock you as soon as we’re back onboard The Hand!”

“General Plo suggested we bring her,” Sinker blurted out, making the most of his thirty seconds. “He said we should all enjoy a night out. Good for morale...”

Wolffe glared at his sergeant as he digested this information. Sinker didn’t lie. He knew he wasn’t lying. His gaze shifted across to Boost, seeing his equally earnest expression. He sighed heavily, looking again at Eren as she bumped into Warthog, giggling wildly as they both staggered around the floor. “We’ll discuss this later,” he snapped at his men, turning back to the padawan in question. “Right now, I’m taking her back to base to sober up. I don’t think the general suggested that you get her falling down drunk!”

Sinker nodded sheepishly. “Yes, sir.”

“I don’t need this,” Wolffe muttered under his breath as he pushed through the dancers to reach her, rolling his eyes irritably as she kept spinning just out of his reach. Finally, he made it to her side, grabbing her arm before she could disappear again. “Commander!” he called out over the music.

She turned awkwardly, trying to manoeuvre with his hand wrapped around her arm. “Oh, hey, Wolffie!” she cried, her eyes lighting up when she recognised him. “Did you come to dance with me?”

Wolffe sighed as he tried to steer her off the dancefloor. Wolffie. “No, Commander. It’s time to go, okay?”

“Already?” she asked, her face falling in disappointment. “But I only just got here!”

He stopped and looked down at her, noting the slightly glazed eyes and the flushed and sweaty face of someone who’d clearly been dancing for quite some time. “How many drinks have you had?” he asked, pulling the green drink from her hand and sniffing it suspiciously.

“Just this one,” she said, trying to take it back, frustrated when he held it out of her reach. “Before that, I had pink ones.”

He rolled his eyes skyward as he kept guiding her towards the door, frustrated at her weaving, wobbly progress. He swore under his breath as she tried to spin around him, twirling under his arm, still attempting to dance. As they exited through the large front doors, she paused as the external air hit her, swaying on her feet as the alcohol caught up with her. “Everything’s moving around a lot out here,” she observed as she let Wolffe guide her towards a shuttle to take them back to the barracks.

Once he had her onboard the shuttle, he got her seated, thankful it was too early for any troopers to be heading back to base. “Just…sit still, okay?” he said, taking a seat next to her, eyeing her warily as she propped her feet up on the seat in front of her, suspiciously compliant.

“Wolffie, did you dance?” she asked, her face falling slightly when he shook his head.

“Dancing isn’t really my thing, Commander.”

“Oh,” she said, disappointed. “Maybe next time we come, you can dance with me…” She trailed off as she looked out the window of the shuttle, watching the night traffic whizz by through the city lights.

Wolffe watched her warily, worried about how much she might have had to drink, and knowing that it could all catch up with her at once. “May I please have my drink?” she asked sweetly, reaching out for the neon green drink he still held in his hand, and he cursed himself for not leaving it at the club. He'd been too distracted trying to get her out of there without a scene.

“No,” he said, holding it out of her reach, “you’ve had enough for one night.”

“But I’m thirsty,” she argued as the shuttle descended onto the platform outside the barracks.

“I’ll get you a drink soon,” he promised her, pulling her to her feet to disembark. He left the green drink on the seat and steadied her as she stumbled on the single step down. As they approached the checkpoint, he sighed inwardly, knowing things were about to get awkward. “Let me do the talking,” he hissed under his breath.

He gripped her arm firmly in one hand, keeping her upright as they approached the checkpoint. “Commanders!” the armed guard said, saluting sharply.

Wolffe saluted the trooper, trying to keep his padawan upright as he felt her rely more and more on his arm for support. “Commander Kilyc is here to attend a briefing.”

He could almost hear the trooper’s eyebrows raise under his helmet as he took in this information, but thankfully, there was no argument, and the large entry gate slid open enough for them to enter the compound. He felt the woman at his side start to flag, stumbling and struggling to keep her balance, giggling as she did so. “Commander, can you please just try and stay upright? We’re almost there.”

“I’m trying,” she said as one leg gave way completely, leaving her hanging off his arm. “See, I’m fine!”

Wolffe stopped in his tracks, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath to collect himself. Opening his eyes again, he looked at the woman leaning out from his body, his grip on her arm the only thing keeping her upright. Huffing out a breath, he yanked on her arm, hauled her up over his shoulder and marched briskly towards the barracks.

“Whoa, now things look really weird,” she said from where she dangled down his back.

He sighed again as he headed towards the barracks assigned to the 104th, hoping he’d be able to sober her up and get her back to the temple before she was missed. He contemplated taking her to the mess and plying her with strong, black caf, but that carried the risk of others finding out. The barracks at least offered some privacy.

“Wolffie?” came her voice from her upside-down position.

“What is it now?” he asked, almost afraid to ask.

“You’ve got a really nice ass…looks good from back here…”

He almost tripped over his own feet at her words, staggered that she would think such a thing, let alone say it out loud, even with alcohol to loosen her tongue. “Well…thank you, Commander. I appreciate your feedback.”

“Do you think I’ve got a nice ass?” she asked, a childlike innocence in her question.

He stalled again, trying desperately not to let his eyes move to the bottom perched on his shoulder, right next to his face. “We should go and get you that drink,” he said brusquely, desperate to change the subject.

“Okay,” she said agreeably, and he felt one of her hands slap his backside through the hard, plastoid armor and leather kama, raising his eyes to the heavens for this to all be over. He sidled up to the door, using his elbow to open it. Relieved to find the hall empty, he got her to his room and squatted to dump her onto the bunk. She lay there blinking for a moment, confused. Then she looked at him. “Wolffe, I think I’m gonna—”

Alarmed at the way the colour drained from her face, he hauled her up and shoved her through the fresher door just in time for her to empty her stomach into the toilet. He winced at the rainbow of colours there as he filled a cup with water, then quickly darted a hand down to pull her braid out of the firing line. Once she seemed to be done, he helped her up, holding her steady as she got her bearings. “Okay?”

“Yeah…”

He helped her back to his bunk, squatting in front of her to hand her the water. “Small sips.”

Doing as she was told, she took several small sips before handing the cup back. “I’m so sorry, Wolffe. I can’t believe I—”

“It’s fine,” he said quickly. “I shouldn’t have thrown you over my shoulder like that. How do you feel now?”

“Like an idiot. Like the worst padawan in the Temple.”

“You’re not an idiot. And you’re not the worst padawan.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.” He sat on the bunk beside her. “I should get you back to the Temple.”

She nodded her agreement, even as she was letting her body lie down on the narrow bunk. “I just need to…”

Wolffe let her go, sighing as she closed her eyes. A couple of hours sleep would probably make things easier all round. She’d at least be mobile. He was about to get up to sit at the tiny desk when he heard a sound come from her. A sob. He looked down to see tears rolling down her cheeks as she tried to weep as silently as possible. “Commander…do you need a medic? I can call Grim in off leave if—”

“No. No, I’m okay…”

Not convinced, he reached almost unconsciously for her hand, where it was clenched against her chest. “Hey…I’m not going to say anything to General Plo. That’s why I brought you back here. No one’s going to find out.”

She struggled up to a sitting position again, trying to wipe her tears away. “No, it’s not that, it’s...” She tried to stand. “I should go. I shouldn’t be here causing—”

“Sit.” She sat. Wolffe had that look on his face. He was taking no prisoners. “Tell me what’s wrong. And if you don’t want to tell me, I’ll find Fitz or Grim or—”

“No. No…I don’t need everyone here knowing.” Wolffe was watching her. Waiting. And it occurred to her he had an uncanny ability to go a long time without blinking. “I just…I was remembering that last time I did this…drinking…dancing…”

“Which was?”

“Before the war. Before everything changed. Nahdar and I snuck out and—”

“Who’s Nahdar?”

“Nahdar Vebb. We grew up together…trained together. He was one of my closest friends.”

“Was?”

Eren nodded sadly. “He was killed not long ago on Vassek 3.”

Wolffe frowned as something triggered his memory. “Grievous killed him. He killed Fil as well.”

“Fil?”

“Commander Fil.”

“Oh…”

She shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms, surprised when Wolffe pushed her back down on the bunk and laid a thin blanket over her. “You should get some rest, Commander. I’ll take you back to the Temple once you’re feeling better.”

Too wrung out to argue, she closed her eyes and tried to ignore the pounding in her head, soon succumbing to sleep.

Wolffe sat and watched her for a while. For someone who wasn’t supposed to form attachments, she seemed to feel the loss of others pretty hard. He got up to dig his datapad out of his gear. He could at least get on with some outstanding admin while she slept.

He was about to sit at the desk when there was a quiet knock on the door. He got up to answer it, not wanting to wake her by calling out. It was Fitz. He was holding Wolffe’s helmet and Kilyc’s outer layers, including her lightsaber. “Sinker told me you’d brought her back here.”

“Yeah.” Wolffe stepped aside to let the lieutenant into his room. “Did she really leave her lightsaber lying around at 79’s?”

“She left it with Tinker for safekeeping. He managed to restrain himself and not pull it apart to see its inner workings.”

He laid the items on the desk and examined the sleeping woman. “How is she?”

“Well, she emptied a rainbow of alcohol out of her guts. She’ll have a miserable fucking hangover in the morning.”

“Or not,” Fitz offered. “They’ve probably got some kind of Jedi trick to prevent it.”

“Probably. Thanks for bringing this stuff back.”

“No problem. I didn’t arrive until after you left, otherwise—”

“Yeah, I know you would have kept her in better shape.”

Fitz looked at Eren again, sleeping soundly on his commander’s bunk. “Want me to stay and give you a hand taking her back?”

“No. Go find me speeder and leave it out front, then hit the sack or whatever you want to do.”

“You got it.”

Once Fitz had gone, Wolffe studied the woman on his bunk. She’d be mortified once she was fully sober. In the short time that he’d known her, she still did a lousy job of covering her feelings. She was an open book. She was to him, anyway. His helmet gave him the cover he needed to watch her, and he’d become well-versed in her range of emotional tells. General Plo gave nothing away under his mask, so he’d focused his attention on Eren. Commander Kilyc. He really needed to stop thinking of her as Eren. It was becoming a bad habit.

Chapter Text

Eren stood staring intently at the holochart, trying to ignore Wolffe as he spoke with Admiral Coburn. She had a foggy memory of him getting her back to the Temple. Somehow, she’d been sober enough to direct him to an entrance beneath the library that was rarely used, managing to sneak in before she was spotted. But she hadn’t seen him since then. And she was dreading it. She’d put a lot of time and effort into earning his trust and respect, and she’d blown it all in one drunken night.

Determined not to look at him, she stared harder into the map, suddenly realising she didn’t even know what she was looking at. Frowning, she turned the chart, trying to figure out what system they were heading to. Muttering to herself, she squatted down to try and make out the coordinates on the chart when—

“Commander.”

“Shit!” She stood quickly, heart pounding. Wolffe was there, a frown on his face as she tried to compose herself. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“I thought Jedi had other senses.”

“Well…maybe they’re not working very well today.”

“Hmm. I thought maybe you’d turned your ears off.”

She finally met his penetrating gaze, seeing amusement in his organic eye. She relaxed slightly. “No. Seems like a bad idea on the bridge.”

“Probably.” He stood on the other side of the chart, looking into it. “I haven’t figured out if my eye has an off switch. Even if it did, I’m not sure there’d be much benefit.”

This time, she smiled at him. “I don’t know; I often hear you muttering about things you don’t want to see. Like troopers playing bolo-ball in the hangar.”

“Good point.” He looked back at the chart, his lips still forming a slight smirk. “How’s your head?”

Mortified, she looked back down at the chart. “Fine. I’m really sorry about—”

“Don’t mention it. Really. Please do not mention the fact that I took a drunk padawan into barracks to sober up. I’ll never live it down.”

“I really don’t want to tell anyone. But I am sorry. And I’m grateful to you for helping me—”

Wolffe gave her a pointed look as Coburn and Plo Koon came over. Back to business.

“Eren,” Plo Koon said, coming to stand beside her, “I hope you got some rest on your leave.”

“Umm…I did. I was mostly at the Temple.”

“Good. We are heading straight into the thick of it. You might get a chance to take a fighter out.”

Eren looked alarmed. “Master Plo, I’m not sure I’m ready to—”

“You will be ready. A few more lessons with Warthog will set you in good stead.”

“But—”

“I have faith in you.” He patted her shoulder and nodded to Wolffe to join him and the admiral on the walkway.

Dismayed, Eren walked quickly from the bridge and pulled her comlink off her vambrace. “Warthog, I need you!”

“You’ll be fine, Slasher.”

“But what if I’m not?”

“You will be.”

Eren looked across the hangar at Warthog sitting in his Headhunter. He grinned at her and gave her an exaggerated double thumbs-up before sliding his helmet on and connecting to the onboard life support system. She couldn’t help but smile at his antics. He was trying to boost her up, and she appreciated it more than he could have imagined. For some reason, despite her obvious inadequacies, the men all supported her. They had her back.

Focusing back on her fighter, she started the drives and pressed the button to lower the hatch, sealing her in. This was it. She opened up the comm system. “Ready, Bluey?”

The astromech responded with a series of Binary beeps and clicks. Ready. Warthog’s voice filled the small cockpit again. “Why do you call that thing Bluey? It’s red!”

“I don’t know. It seemed funny at the time.”

The astromech piped up again, and Eren answered in a soothing tone. “Yes, I know, Bluey. He’s got a lot to say about names for a man called Warthog.”

“Hey!”

Eren giggled as she gave the controls a final check-over. “Only kidding, Warthog. You’re the boss out there. I’m in your hands.”

“Finally! Seriously though, ma’am, you’ll be fine. Just stick with me and listen to what’s going on.”

“Roger, roger.”

She smiled at Warthog’s exasperated sigh as she pushed the throttle gently down to follow his squad from the hangar. She enjoyed her relationship with him. He was cheerful and easy-going and didn’t hesitate to point out her mistakes when instructing her. And he gave her the confidence she needed to get out there. As she hovered over the hangar bay, she looked down to see Wolffe on the deck, barking out orders to the troops boarding the gunships. As though he sensed her eyes on him, he looked up, offering her a casual salute as she took a breath and hit the throttle to follow the squad—time to focus now.

Outside the relative safety of the ship, it was chaos. Beyond the bow of the Hand of Justice, she could make out the flashes of light bursting forth from the battling fighters. The 212th was already engaged, and now it was their turn. Warthog’s voice filled the cockpit, serious now. “Attack formation!”

Following his orders, she took up a position at the rear of the squad. She was there to follow, not lead—this time. A lot depended on how she managed herself here. Focused on the action in front of her, she charged the cannons, almost jumping when Warthog’s voice crackled again. “Incoming!”

“Let’s go, Bluey…”

She let the droid power the drives to full, and then she was in the middle of the action, firing at droid fighters whilst trying to avoid being hit. With her Force senses to guide her, it wasn’t too difficult to dodge the incoming shots, and her respect for the clone pilots grew as she watched them do the same thing, relying on their training, skill and equipment. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of their Torrents trying to lose a Sep fighter. She saw the lights flashing on the enemy ship – they were locked on. “Oh, fuck…”

Acting on pure instinct, she sent her fighter into a steep descent, firing at the Vulture. She was unconsciously swearing continuously to herself as she dropped rapidly, still firing at the Vulture until it exploded into a ball of flame. She wasn’t quick enough to change tack, though, and a piece of the Vulture’s fuselage clipped her as it flew by, sending her Delta into an uncontrolled roll.

“Fuck…fuck! Shit!” She was swearing loudly now as she tried to regain control of her rapidly spinning ship, gripping tightly onto the yoke and pulling up until the fighter gave some semblance of levelling out.

“Slasher, you good?” That was Warthog, hovering nearby to check on her.

“I’m okay. Just fine...”

He snorted disbelievingly as he darted his Headhunter back into the action. “You and I are having a talk when this is all over.”

She smiled to herself as she changed direction to get back into the battle. Her heart was pounding, adrenaline was pumping through her body, but she was buzzing. Now, she knew what she was capable of. She charged her cannons again and checked all the readouts on the console. All good. “Okay, Bluey, let’s get back into it.”

Back in the hangar, she crawled out of the fighter and dropped wearily onto the deck. Her hair was wet with sweat, and her body felt like it was still buzzing and vibrating. She looked over as Master Plo docked nearby, relief filling her when he gave her an approving nod and a pat on her shoulder as he walked over. “We’ll make a pilot out of you yet.”

She exhaled loudly. “I didn’t think I had it in me.”

“You always had it in you. Now you’ve found it.”

“Well…I had a good teacher.” She looked over to see Warthog standing by his Headhunter, arms folded across his chest as he shook his head at her. “And it looks like he’s not very happy with me.”

Plo Koon gave an amused rumble as he left the hangar. “I shall leave you to make amends.”

She waited for Warthog to amble over to her, still shaking his head disapprovingly. “The mouth on you!”

“What? What are you talking about?”

He tilted his head towards a small cluster of pilots, heads together as they debriefed. “Why don’t you ask them?”

Eren looked at the pilots, and they all quickly averted their eyes. “What did I do?”

“That whole battle was just a stream of curse words coming through comms – all you! Honestly, I’ve never heard anything like it! I’ve spent my entire short existence with troopers, and you made me blush!”

Mortified, she tried to give the pilots an apologetic wave. “Do they all hate me now?”

“No, I think you’ve just risen up a few ranks in their esteem. But seriously, where did you even learn that stuff? I didn’t even know half the words, but they sounded bad.”

“My old master. She umm…she was very expressive.”

“I’ll say.” He slung an arm around her shoulders as they headed for the lift. “You did pretty good out there, kid.”

“I did?”

“You did. Getting yourself out of that roll wasn’t an easy manoeuvre, but you pulled it off.”

“Well, it was that or go plummeting to the surface.”

“Yeah, Wolffe would have been pretty pissed if you’d dropped into the battle down there.”

Eren peered back over her shoulder. None of the gunships were back yet. “How far out are they?”

“Not far. Just tidying up loose ends as far as I know.”

“Causalities?”

“No idea.”

Worried, she pulled herself from under his arm. “I might just wait…”

“Suit yourself. I’m going to shower and eat. Actually, make that eat and then shower. See you later, Commander.”

Eren found an ordnance crate to sit on, waiting patiently for the gunships to get back. She closed her eyes and reached into her connection to the Force, trying to get a sense of how bad things were on the surface, but nothing was clear. Distance made things challenging. So, she sat and waited.

It was another two hours before the first of the ships docked, then the rest of them, one by one. Troopers poured out, and to her relief, there was no sign of significant injuries. The mood was good amongst the troopers as they made their way to the lifts, saluting her and calling out greetings as they went by. But still no sign of Wolffe.

Finally, the last ship docked, and the side hatch slid open. Wolffe was first out, seemingly uninjured. But he called the waiting medics over, and Eren was quick to move closer to see what was going on. Grim jumped out next and reached in to pull a field stretcher close enough for the other medics to slide it onto the waiting repulsor stretcher. She didn’t need to see to know it was Fitz. His Force signature was as familiar to her now as Master Plo’s. Dismayed, she leaned over the stretcher to look at his unconscious form. “What happened?”

“Explosion. Caught some shrapnel and probably concussed.”

“Will he be alright?”

“If you move aside and let me get him to Medbay.”

Eren quickly moved out of the way, watching worriedly as Grim and the medics disappeared into the nearest lift with Fitz. She was left with Wolffe as the mechanics and ground crew started checking all the vessels over and moving them into their docking positions. He eyed her up and down as though checking her over. “How’d you go up there?”

“Fine.” The adrenaline had worn off, and now she was just worried about Fitz. And now she felt guilty. Maybe if she’d been down on the surface with Fitz, she could have protected him. “How bad was it down there?”

“Actually, not too bad. Fitz was unlucky. Cody had everything more or less sorted by the time we landed.” He tossed her a helmet, and she looked down to see it was Fitz’s, the markings familiar to her. “You can give that back to him. He’ll be wanting it when he comes round.”

She held the helmet tightly as they stepped into a lift together. “Where are we going next?”

“We won’t know until the general debriefs with the Council.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “Shouldn’t you be part of that?”

She shrugged, tightening her grip on the helmet. “I doubt I’ll have much useful to offer. I was just part of the squad up there. Shouldn’t you?”

Wolffe shook his head. “Cody’ll handle that from the Negotiator. It was his op. We were just support.”

She was about to step out of the lift on the floor that held the medbay when Wolffe grabbed her arm. “Go and shower first. Grim’s taking care of him.”

She looked down at herself, reminded of how damp and sweaty she still was. “You’re right. Grim won’t let me in looking like this, will he?”

“I doubt it. You know what he’s like.”

They both stepped out of the lift on the floor that held the officer’s quarters and walked along the corridor, reaching Wolffe’s door first. “I need a shower, too. Then, I’m going to debrief with the aerial squads. Warthog’s reports are always very creative.”

Eren looked at him, alarmed. “You don’t need to—"

“I don’t need to what?” Wolffe was looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Stern, but…amused somehow.

“Nothing…” She turned and headed for her own door. “I’ll see you later.”

Inside her cabin, she carefully laid the helmet on the small table before sinking onto the hard bunk. She felt as though she was already on thin ice with Wolffe after their leave on Coruscant. If he found out about her behaviour in the air, she might just fall through it.

Fitz was sitting up awake when she slipped quietly into the medbay. “Hey, Commander. How was your first space battle?”

“Fine. Nothing to tell.”

Fitz gave an amused snigger. “That’s not what I heard.”

Eren gave him a worried look as she sat beside the bed. “What have you heard?”

“Just that you handled yourself admirably. And taught the boys a new word or two.”

“Fuck.”

This time, Fitz laughed out loud, pressing a hand to his abdomen and wincing from pain at the same time. “To think, when you first joined us, we all thought you were this quiet little mouse, barely saying a word. Turned out you were saving all the words for later!”

Eren tried to give him a stern look, but she soon gave up and sighed dejectedly. “I’m afraid that’s the real me. I’m a product of my former master.”

Still chuckling painfully, Fitz nodded at the helmet in her hands. “Is that mine?”

She nodded, handing it to him. “I cleaned it for you. It had blood on it.”

“Well, droids don’t bleed, so I guess it was mine. Thanks, Commander. You didn’t have to go to the trouble.”

“It wasn’t any trouble. How are you feeling now?”

“I’ve been better. But it’s nothing serious.” He raised his voice and called towards the back corner of the medbay. “Isn’t that right, Grim?”

Grim appeared out of nowhere, wraith-like. “Isn’t what right?”

“You heard me, you eavesdropping son of a—”

“Hey, language!”

Fitz gave another pained wheeze. “Language? Around her?”

Grim eyed her up and down. “Oh yes…I heard about that. Interesting…”

Mortified, Eren patted Fitz’s leg as she stood. “I’d better get going before I die of embarrassment. I’m glad you’re okay.”

Not daring to look back, she slunk from the medbay and made her way to the wardroom, her heart sinking when she saw Wolffe there, cup in hand, as he read something on his datapad. “Caf’s hot,” he said, not looking up as she entered.

“Thanks.” She poured herself a cup from the pot and sat on the bench beside him, letting her head fall tiredly back against the wall. “Any update on where we’re going?”

“Not yet. Why, you itching to get back up there?”

“No. I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day.”

Wolffe leaned forward to thunk his mug down on the table. “What’s to be embarrassed about? You took out some Vultures; you saved Hammer’s skin. Sounds like a success to me.”

“Maybe.”

Wolffe looked over at her. He’d heard about her almost endless stream of expletives as she took part in the battle. The men were laughing about it, but not in a malicious way. If anything, they were pleased to have a Jedi commander who was more like them. But she wasn’t a Jedi. Not yet. “The men like you, kid. They like that you’re like them. That you swear and make mistakes. But more than that, they respect you. They know you have what it takes when it counts. They know you’ve got their backs. Despite the way you came into this battalion, you’ve found yourself a place.”

Eren gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Wolffe.”

He’d said all he had to say and dropped his datapad on the table with a tired sigh. “I can’t remember when I last slept.”

“About thirty-six hours ago.”

“That long?”

“Uh-huh. You haven’t shaved in a while either.”

He frowned at her. “Are you keeping tabs on me?”

She shrugged. “I’ve got your back.”

He gave an amused huff as he leaned his head against the wall beside hers and closed his eyes. “Don’t use it against me.”

Hours later, Eren opened her eyes, blinking as she got her bearings. She was still in the wardroom. And something was digging uncomfortably into her cheek. She was leaning against Wolffe, and somehow, she’d slipped down so that her cheek was resting against a ridge on his chest plate. She sat up slowly, not wanting to wake him. Real sleep was as precious to him as it was to her - as difficult to come by as well. She rubbed her cheek, feeling the indent from his armor. Wolffe was still sleeping soundly, his head resting against the bulkhead. Still tired, she leaned her cheek against his arm. The shoulder bell was smooth and much more comfortable. She closed her eyes and was soon asleep again.

Chapter Text

Eren stood in the hangar of the Jedi Temple, carefully examining the holochart. Large sections of it were missing, and she didn’t envy the squad that was being sent to rescue Master Piell. They were heading into the unknown. She glanced around the hangar at the assembled troopers from the 212th and the 501st. She only knew Commander Cody and Captain Rex, and there was a simmering undercurrent of nervousness amongst them. She couldn’t blame them. Being carbon-frozen and dropped into almost uncharted territory would make anyone nervous.

One of the men, an ARC trooper, made eye contact with her as she looked around. “Are you coming with us, Commander Kilyc?”

She shook her head. “No. We’ll be waiting here as backup, umm…”

“Fives,” the trooper offered. “I’m Fives, and this is Echo.”

The other Arc trooper stood from where he was perched on an ordnance crate and gave his fellow trooper an odd look before saluting her. “Commander.”

She looked the two troopers over. They seemed huge with their kamas and double shoulder pauldrons, and their kit was decorated with various stripes and trim in blue and white. They made quite an impact. Different from the more subtle grey and white of the 104th. She caught the almost imperceptible gestures and eye contact they made with each other. They shared a close bond. The kind of bond where words were unnecessary. The one that had first spoken to her, Fives, leaned casually on the hull of a gunship and gave her an appraising look. “Shame you’re not coming. We heard about you. Double lightsaber… I wouldn’t mind seeing that in—”

“Trooper!”

The two ARC troopers turned at the harsh voice behind them, coming sharply to attention and saluting as Wolffe strode up behind them. “Isn’t there something more useful you two could be doing?”

The two ARCs exchanged another silent look. “Yessir!”

They quickly made themselves scarce, leaving Eren alone with Wolffe. He gave her an unimpressed look. “What was that about?”

“What was what about?”

“What did they want?”

“Nothing, really. Just wanted to know if I was going on the mission.”

“And?”

“And what? I told them I wasn’t.” She gave Wolffe a confused look. He seemed angry for no good reason. “Has something happened? Are we going now, or—”

“No. Orders haven’t changed.”

“Oh.”

He gave her another look that made her feel as though she’d done something wrong. “You shouldn’t be fraternizing with the men like that.”

“Fraternizing? What are you talking about?”

“Just what I said. They don’t know you. They can’t just waltz in and think that they can—”

“I wasn’t fraternizing, or whatever it is you’re getting at. Fives asked me a question, and I answered it. I don’t understand what you’re getting so worked up about.”

“I’m not getting worked up. You’re the one raising your voice.”

Eren clamped her lips shut and looked around the hangar to see several of the troopers had stopped what they were doing to watch. They quickly averted their eyes when they realised they’d been spotted. She lowered her voice to a quiet hiss. “Why are you—”

“You got to a first-name basis with those ARC troopers pretty quickly. Or have you met them before? At 79’s, maybe?”

Eren stared at him for a beat, and then the implications of what he was saying began to sink in. Hurt and angry, she backed away from him. “I was just being friendly. Just like I am with our men…” Without giving him a chance to respond, she moved quickly over to stand by Master Plo, watching as the rescue squad were lowered into the carbon freezer. She could feel Wolffe’s eyes on her back, but she didn’t turn around. She kept her eyes firmly on the freezer as the slabs were raised and loaded onto the ship. As the ship took off and disappeared from sight, she turned to go back into the Temple. “I might go to the archives,” she called to Master Plo. “Maybe there’s something about the Citadel they missed.”

“Good idea,” her master agreed. “Even a small detail could help.” She glanced briefly at Wolffe as she walked past him, surprised by the grim expression on his face. He met her eyes briefly, then jammed his helmet to wait for Plo Koon.

Wolffe watched her leave, not missing the curse words she muttered under her breath as she glanced back over her shoulder at him. He’d made her angry. He rarely, if ever, saw her angry. It just wasn’t something that happened. Maybe he’d gone too far, but she was an officer. It wouldn’t do to have her fraternizing with troopers outside the 104th, and he didn’t like the way Rex’s ARC was posturing around, trying to impress her. She didn’t belong to the 501st. But she really seemed upset. Sometimes, she still managed to surprise him with what came out of her mouth. She was so mild and even-tempered generally.

He straightened up when General Plo came over to him. “Is there anything else you need me for, sir?”

Plo nodded as they walked towards the lift. “We’re going to join Eren in the archives to see if we can locate any more information about the Citadel. Three heads are better than one.”

Wolffe grimaced under his helmet. She wasn’t necessarily going to be happy to see him so soon. But he didn’t regret his actions. He was still the commander of the 104th, and they had an unspoken agreement that his experience outranked her title. That’s just how things worked. She was the one who always brought it up. Someone had to manage all the conflicting interests. As they stepped into the lift, General Plo turned to him. “Eren seemed upset about something when she left.”

Wolffe grimaced again. “Yes, sir. I think I may have offended her. Inadvertently.”

“I see.”

Wolffe braced himself for more, but the general seemed satisfied with his answer, so he took a risk. “She uh…she has a colourful way of expressing herself.”

Plo gave a low chuckle under his mask. “She does indeed. Her previous master was similarly…expressive. It appears to have passed from master to padawan.”

Wolffe said nothing as he followed his general to the archives. Perhaps he’d been similarly influenced by those tasked with training him, but besides Alpha-17, none of his trainers had been particularly invested in him as an individual. He was just part of the machine. Until he was assigned to Plo Koon. General Plo made it very clear that he saw them all as individual men and treated them as such. And he knew that Eren, Commander Kilyc, felt the same. He felt a twinge of guilt for the way he’d spoken to her. She had a right to speak to whoever she wanted, 104th or not. But it troubled him that it bothered him so much to see her with the two ARC troopers.

He followed General Plo around a series of shelves containing journals and books until they spotted her hunched over a desk, frowning as she read through a document. Her frown deepened when she looked up and saw him there. He stood back as General Plo approached her. “Any luck?”

“Not yet. But I have all this to read through.” She pointed to the large pile of printed documents on the desk.

“Wolffe can help you to get through them faster. I’m going to find Madam Jocasta.”

Once he was gone, Wolffe pulled off his helmet, surprised when Eren moved over to make space for him on the bench. She pushed the pile of documents towards him. “These are records of travellers in the area - what they’ve seen in and around the sector. You never know…”

Wolffe took the document from the top of the pile and started reading. It seemed unlikely that they’d find anything, but they were on standby for a quick extraction, so may as well use the time productively. As he read, he stole the occasional glance at Kilyc. Her face was pinched into a frown of concentration as she pored over the documents. Maybe it was a frown of anger at him. She was studiously ignoring him, refusing to look at him. Rolling his eyes in frustration, he cleared his throat. Annoyingly, she didn’t look up, so he put down the document he was reading with an exaggerated gesture. “I apologise.”

“Pardon.”

He rolled his eyes again. “I said I apologise. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

He tried very hard not to roll his eyes a third time. She wasn’t making this easy. “I apologise for what I said earlier. It was out of line.”

“It wasn’t just about what you said. It was about how you said it.”

“Then I apologise for that, too. Unreservedly.”

She glanced up at him, rolling her own eyes at his last word. “Apology accepted.”

Wolffe picked up his document again. “Think we’ll find anything?”

“I don’t know. But I’d rather do something than sit around waiting.”

“Yeah, you and me both.”

The smell hit as the gunship hatch opened - acrid, sulphurous air, hot and heavy. Blinking back the stinging tears, she grabbed arms and bodies as the survivors jumped aboard. A quick head count told her that many hadn’t made it. But it was Master Plo who asked. “Master Piell?”

“I’m afraid he didn’t make it,” Master Kenobi said tiredly. “But Ahsoka has the information.”

Eren shot a look at Ahsoka Tano, seeing that Master Skywalker’s padawan looked exhausted as well. Then she frowned to herself. She wasn’t aware that Ahsoka was even going on this mission. Still frowning, she glanced around the crowded ship again. Commander Cody was there. Captain Rex. She saw the ARC trooper, Fives, and her heart sank when she realised that his brother, Echo, was one of the missing. Fives was standing ramrod straight, calm from the outside. But she could feel grief and anger radiating from him.

When the ship docked back in the hangar, she jumped out with the others, watching as Fives stalked off to a quiet corner. She followed him, breaking into a jog to catch up with his long stride. He wheeled on her then, taking her by surprise. And he was surprised, too. She could feel at. But he came to attention and saluted her. “Commander.”

She glanced around, seeing that they were alone. “Fives, I—”

“Do you need me for something, ma’am?”

“No. No, I…I came to see if you were okay.”

He was silent for a moment, his helmet tilted down to her. “I’m not injured.”

“That’s not what I asked. I saw that…that your brother didn’t make it back…”

After another silent moment, Fives slowly slid his helmet off. He looked as weary as the others. And there was a pain in his eyes that she found almost unbearable. “Echo died trying to protect our ship. But he didn’t need to, did he? Because you came and extracted us.” He sagged back against a crate. “His life didn’t mean anything in the end.”

Eren shook her head, horrified that he could even think that. “That’s not true. His life meant something. All your lives mean something.”

“Do they?” His tone was bitter now. “We lost a lot of good men at that place. We just had to leave them where they fell.”

“Sometimes, that’s what happens when—”

“Not Master Piell.”

“What do you mean? What about Master Piell?”

Fives stared at her for a beat, then shook his head. “I shouldn’t be having this conversation with you.”

He stood to leave, but Eren grabbed his arm. “Fives, you can tell me. Whatever it is, you need to tell someone, or it’ll fester away inside you.”

He sat back on the crate, and Eren perched beside him. “When Master Piell died, General Kenobi stopped us to make sure he was honoured…cremated in the lava. But every clone who died there…we just had to leave them where they lay. No time for us to honour our brothers. No honour for them at all.”

Eren sat silently by his side. She could see the unshed tears in his eyes. She could feel how wracked by grief he was. She didn’t want to tell him she understood because she didn’t. She talked to the men of the 104th. She knew about pods and how important that bond was. She knew what it was, but she couldn’t claim to really understand it. She had nothing like that in her own upbringing at the Temple. But what she could understand was the anger he was feeling. Anger at clones not being given the same respect as the Jedi. And he was right. She knew he was right. She looked over at him; he was staring down at the helmet in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

Fives looked up at her, as though surprised she was still there. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because you’re right. Your brothers deserve to be honoured as much as any Jedi. I know that doesn’t really help, but—”

“Not really. But thanks for listening. You won’t say anything…”

“I won’t say anything. You have my word.”

“Thanks, Commander.” Fives stood and tucked his helmet under his arm. Back to business. “I’d better go and debrief with the others.”

She watched him leave, then stayed where she was, perched on the crate swinging her legs. Men died in war – she wasn’t naïve enough to believe any different. But the clones were men, not just clones, and sometimes it felt as though that’s not how they were always seen. She thought about Wolffe losing almost an entire battalion. There was no time to grieve, no time to process the fallout. He was just expected to get up and start again. And despite his gruff exterior, she knew how protective he was of his men. She knew how much he valued each and every life. And she knew Master Plo did as well. As she sat contemplating, she wondered if things would have been different if Master Plo had led the rescue mission. Would they have stopped to give Master Piell a Jedi send-off and not done the same for the clones that lost their lives?

She looked up when she heard footsteps. Wolffe was there, a stern frown on his face. “What are you doing?”

“Just thinking. Why? Do you need me for something?”

“No. What were you doing with Rex’s ARC?”

Eren frowned back at him, confused by his accusatory tone. “Talking. His brother didn’t make it back.”

She saw Wolffe’s hard expression soften slightly. “It was always going to be a high-risk mission.” He sat beside her on the munitions crate. “Rex is pretty broken up about it.”

“Is he?”

“Those ARCs were his special project. Apparently, they were the last two left in their squad.”

“Oh…so now there’s just Fives left…” She looked at Wolffe again. “What about your pod?”

“Mine? We were all split up after Geonosis. I was sent back to Kamino with a number of others to complete ARC training and take on a command rank.”

“So, you don’t know where they are?”

“I know where they are. We’re just never in the same place at the same time. That’s what happens in a war.”

“Well, you’d know more about that than me.”

“Do you still really believe that? You’re not shiny anymore.”

Eren looked down at herself. Even in their brief time hovering over the lava-surrounded island for the pick-up, she’d managed to get covered in an ashy, grey film from the smoke. “You’re right. I should go clean up.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” She got off the crate and wiped the back of her hand over her cheek, pulling a face at the smear of grey. “I still might do it anyway.” She hesitated before she left. “Wolffe, why were you angry about me talking to Fives?”

“I wasn’t,” he said quickly. “I just didn’t know where you’d gone.”

She gave him a sceptical look. She could tell he wasn’t being entirely honest with her. “I know you think I’m a kid, but I can look after myself.”

He stood up to walk with her. “I know you can. Unless alcohol is involved.”

She gave him a shove as they wandered back through the hangar. “That was one time.”

“So far…”

Chapter Text

Wolffe glanced up when he heard Skywalker trying to raise Tano. The General was getting anxious, and he couldn’t blame him. Felucia wasn’t the kind of place you wanted to get lost in. But Tano had enough sense to stay close. He was about to regroup his own men when Skywalker gave the order to fan and out search for his errant padawan. Frowning, Wolffe looked around the outpost they’d just taken. He couldn’t see Eren. Alarmed, he spotted Fitz about to send his squad back out and jogged over to him. “Where’s Kilyc?”

“She’s here somewhere. Why?”

“Tano’s missing. I want eyes on Kilyc now.”

Quietly panicked now, he jogged back to the edge of the base, opening up his comm as he went. “Commander Kilyc, come in. Are you receiving?” Nothing. Just silence. He peered over, cursing the overgrown jungle that made everything difficult to see. But then he saw something. A flash of dull grey, then a brighter flash of blue. That was her lightsaber. He activated his jetpack and went over the side, landing with a gentle thud several metres from her. He strode over to her and grabbed her shoulder. “Where the hell have you been?”

Alarmed by his tone, Eren shrunk back from him as she deactivated her lightsaber. “I thought I saw a ship taking off. But it’s hard to see anything through this mess.”

Wolffe tried to calm himself. She was here. She was fine. “Why didn’t you answer your comm?”

“It got hit by a blaster bolt.” She held out her arm to show him the seared patch on her vambrace. “I was heading back.”

“Well, you should have…never mind…”

He started walking back towards the base, but Eren grabbed his arm. “Wolffe, what’s going on? Why are you angry?”

“I’m not angry. I just didn’t know where you were.”

He tried to go again, but she pulled him back, looking pointedly at him until he pulled his helmet off. “Wolffe?”

He scowled at her for a beat, then relented. “Tano’s missing. I thought that…I didn’t know…”

“Ahsoka’s missing?”

Wolffe nodded. “Everyone’s looking for her.”

“Then we should go and help.” But neither of them moved, and he was still looking at her with an unreadable expression. “Wolffe…did you think something had happened to me?”

“No. Yes. I didn’t know.”

She felt herself trapped by his penetrating gaze, and suddenly she felt it. The urgency and fear just starting to dissipate. He’d been scared. And she knew how that felt. Every time she lost sight of him on a battlefield, she felt the same fear. But she didn’t understand why. She feared for all the men in the heat of battle, but her fear for Wolffe went beyond that, and she couldn’t make sense of it. It wasn’t a feeling she’d experienced before.

She realised she was still gazing up at Wolffe, and he was frowning at her now. “Commander?”

“I’m okay. We should join the search.”

“Yeah.”

She headed back towards the base, glancing back over her shoulder as Wolffe put his helmet back on to follow her. She needed to focus on helping to find her fellow padawan. Whatever had just happened with Wolffe would have to wait.

Wolffe stepped onto the gunship behind General Plo. He saw the dark expression on Skywalker’s face as he followed them aboard, and the ship took off. He was worried for his padawan, but it seemed to go beyond that. He’d heard General Plo tell the younger Jedi that his emotions were clouding his judgement. He didn’t know Skywalker well enough to tell either way. He glanced over at Kilyc. She was with Fitz towards the rear of the ship. Fitz had her left hand in his, frowning as he examined the fried remains of her comlink. He made a mental note to get her to carry a backup comm. This was the second time she’d lost comm contact.

He looked back at Skywalker, alarmed by the anger radiating off him. But then, as he looked back at Eren, he wondered how he’d feel if they had to board ships and abandon her to an unknown fate. He looked back to see she and Fitz were deep in conversation about something as they often were, and it occurred to him that he would find it difficult to do what Skywalker was being asked to do right now. Rex seemed agitated as well. He knew Rex watched over Tano and tried to keep her safe. All in all, it was a messy situation. One that he hoped he’d never be in.

“Just a minute.”

Eren got up to answer the buzzer on her cabin door. Tinker. “New comlink,” he said, holding a device out to her.

“Thanks, Tinker.” She fitted the device into the vacant space on her vambrace, surprised to see him holding out a second device. “What’s that?”

“Backup. Commander’s orders.”

“I’m a commander.”

Tinker hesitated. He sensed he was about to be caught in the middle of something. Tact was called for here. “Yes, ma’am. Commander Wolffe thought it would be advisable for you to have a secondary—”

“Thank you, Tinker. I’ll take Commander Wolffe’s suggestion under advisement.”

Tinker tried not to wince outwardly. Something about Commander Kilyc’s tone made him uncomfortable. “Yes, ma’am.”

Eren waited for Tinker to leave, then marched next door to Wolffe’s cabin, banging on the door instead of using the buzzer. The door slid open to reveal a bare-chested Wolffe with an angry frown on his face. “What the fuck is—oh, Commander. Is something going on? No one—”

“I’m not a baby!” she said, shoving the comlink at his chest. “It’s bad enough that everyone on this cruiser thinks I’m a child without you reinforcing it!”

“What are you talking about?”

“This!” she said, pushing the device at him. “I don’t need you keeping tabs on me.”

“Keeping tabs? Is that what you think this is? Commander Tano is still missing, just in case you’d forgotten. And since you seem to have a habit of smashing up the comm on your arm, I want you wearing another one at all times.”

“Just because Ahsoka is missing, it doesn’t mean anything will happen to me. I’ve worked hard to be taken seriously by this crew, but then you go and do something like this!”

Wolffe had to contain his eye roll. “Look, Commander, this isn’t about anything more than making sure you’re contactable at all times.”

She stared at him for a beat, breathing hard, then turned on her heel and stormed back to her own cabin, making sure to lock the door. She sat angrily on her bunk, looking up with surprise when the door slid open to reveal Wolffe. “How did you…”

“You think I don’t have the override code for every single door on this ship?”

This just made her angrier. “Well, why don’t I have the code? I’m a commander too!”

“You can have the damn code if it means so much to you. But not until you tell me why you’re so worked up about this.”

“I’m not worked up. You are.”

This time, he did roll his eyes at her response. “Now you are being childish. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Eren looked up at him, blinking when she registered that he was standing in her cabin, dressed in nothing but the lower half of his black bodysuit, and his arms were folded across his chest, accentuating his biceps and pectoral muscles. She flushed and quickly averted her eyes. “It’s not a big deal. You’re right. It makes sense.”

Wolffe muttered something under his breath and sat beside her on the bunk. “Just like that? You’ve changed your mind now?”

Mortified, Eren shuffled along the bunk away from him. “I overreacted. I apologise.”

Sighing loudly, Wolffe leaned back against the bulkhead. “I didn’t mean to make you feel undermined. I just…I don’t want you going missing as well. I don’t want anything to happen to you. You’re part of the 104th now. That means you’re my responsibility.”

“I can look after myself.”

“So can I. But that doesn’t mean we don’t look out for each other. You’ve got my back; I’ve got yours. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” He gave her shoulder a gentle shove before he got up and went to the door. “You should get some rest. We’re on standby to assist if they locate Tano.”

“Any updates?”

“Not yet. Goodnight, kid.”

She sat on her bunk for several minutes, trying to wrap her head around her feelings. She ran a hand down her arm when he’d touched her, as though she might still feel the heat. Having Wolffe in her cabin like that had left her feeling flustered and nervous, and now she had to acknowledge to herself why that was. Fuck.

Out in the corridor, Wolffe leaned against the bulkhead by her door, exhaling loudly when he heard the lock activate. He’d covered that well. Hopefully. He hadn’t expected her to appear in his cabin, cheeks flushed with frustration. He hadn’t expected her to be stripped down to a tank top and leggings, making it very clear she was not the ‘kid’ he called her. He looked down at his hand, as though his fingers were burned from touching her. Her skin was smooth, cool from the cold, recycled air. It felt good. He rolled his eyes at himself as he went into his own cabin. Clones did not have relationships with Jedi. Clones were not attracted to their padawans. It just didn’t happen. That was that.

Eren woke with a start, bracing her hand against the bulkhead to stop from rolling off the bunk. Something was wrong. She grabbed her lightsaber and ran for the door, slamming into Wolffe as he was rushing from his own cabin. “What’s going on?”

Wolffe grabbed her arms to steady her, pushing her back as they both got their balance. “That’s what I’m going to find out. You okay?”

“Yes. You?”

Wolffe nodded grimly as the lift took them up to the bridge. “Felt like we’ve been hit.”

As the lift flew up, she realised he was still dressed for sleep in just the lower half of his bodysuit. Then she remembered she was still dressed for bed, her feet bare like his. That couldn’t be helped, though. This was a war, and attacks didn’t always come at convenient times. She studied Wolffe’s face. He was worried. She didn’t need to look at him to know that. She could feel the tension in him. This wasn’t a battle on the surface. This was their ship being attacked. Like Abregado.

The bridge crew was busy as they ran in, but several troopers turned to look at them, surprised to see their commanders arrive together so scantily dressed. Admiral Coburn was at his control station, eyes fixed on a Dreadnought that was firing on them. “It just dropped out of hyperspace in front of us,” the admiral said, eyes still on the enemy ship. “The scanners haven’t picked up any more.”

Wolffe frowned down at the screen. “Why would they just send one ship, sir? A trap?”

Coburn nodded. “Perhaps.” He nodded to one of the engineering crew. “Let’s see how serious they are.”

Eren watched as their own turbolasers fired on the Dreadnought, sending blasts of flame out into space. The Dreadnought fired back, and she felt the hit as it vibrated up through the floor. She felt anxious without Master Plo aboard. He was still back on Coruscant helping to locate Ahsoka Tano, leaving Wolffe and Coburn in command. Eren as well, technically, but she’d never put herself at the same level as the two trained officers. She watched with a frown as Coburn ordered another attack, surprised when the Dreadnought appeared to take no evasive action. She moved closer to the viewport, watching as the Separatist ship held its position. “It’s a decoy…”

Coburn came to stand beside her. “Are you certain?”

“I think so. There are only a few droids on that ship. No tactical droid.”

Wolffe came up on her other side. “Why would they be—”

He didn’t finish his question, as the ship was rocked by a huge explosion from the stern. A quick look at the scanners told them that two more destroyers had dropped out of hyperspace behind them while they were focused on the threat in front of them. More blasts rocked the ship, and they seemed to be coming from every side now. Coburn frantically punched coordinates into the system and yelled out to one of the bridge crew, “Take us to lightspeed, now!”

“Yessir!”

But nothing happened. Eren gripped onto the station, dread filling her when a voice came through from the engineering bay. “Sir, we’ve lost power to the hyperdrive, and we’ve got vessels incoming!”

Coburn didn’t miss a beat. “Commander Kilyc, I need you to assist the team repairing the hyperdrive. Cover them and keep any droid forces away. Wolffe, all hands on deck. Keep the enemy at bay until we can make the jump.” As he was speaking, he pressed the button that sounded a klaxon alarm throughout the ship, dragging every man from sleep or relaxation to defend the ship from the smaller infiltration vessels. Eren bolted for the lift, not stopping to finish dressing. It took her down to the engineering bay, and she ducked as the lift door opened and a volley of blaster fire greeted her. Acting on instinct, she flicked on both ends of her lightsaber and spun it to deflect the bolts as she pushed towards the droid platoon that had infiltrated the sector, taking them down one by one as she went.

Moving rapidly along the corridor, she swore under her breath when she saw two troopers prone on the floor. She couldn’t tell if they were dead or unconscious, and she wasn’t in a position to stop and check. Securing the hyperdrive and the men repairing it was her priority.

Back in his cabin, Wolffe dragged the rest of his bodysuit on and attached his armor at record speed, the door of his cabin open as he barked orders to Fitz out in the corridor. “I want squad patrols on every level. I want every breach pushed back. The canons won’t hold them off for long.”

“What about Eren?”

Wolffe didn’t even have time to pull his lieutenant up on using the commander’s first name. “She’s guarding engineering while they do repairs. Get a few squads down there to back her up, then work your way up. I’ll start here and work down.”

“On it.”

Wolffe charged both his blasters and bolted back into the corridor, running with Fitz to the nearest bank of lifts. “I want to know about any breaches. Stay in contact.”

“Yes, sir!”

While Fitz took a lift down to the engineering bay, Wolffe went back up to the bridge. He could monitor things from there. As he was about to step out, his comm buzzed. “We’ve got a breach on the port side hull. Eighth level.”

“On my way.”

Back in the lift, he went down to eight. When he stepped out, there was silence, then the sounds of blaster fire gradually growing louder as he ran down the corridor. As he rounded the corridor, he came into a firefight between his men and a small squad of droids. He joined the fray, helping his men push the droids back as they picked them off. “We’ve got this under control, sir,” Sinker panted. “Admiral Coburn said they sent out six dropships. Three were headed for the engine bay.”

“Fitz and Kilyc are down there now. Get down there once you’ve sorted this mess out.”

He ran back for the lift, raising his men as he went. “All squads report in. Sitrep!”

As he listened to the squads report in, he tried to quell the panic he was feeling. Those dropships took him back to Abregado. He couldn’t let them overpower the cruiser. The ship could still fly with breaches to the hull, but they needed to make the jump to hyperspace ASAP.

“Sir, we’ve got a breach on the bridge level! Looks like it malfunctioned, though. It’s crashed into us rather than opened us up. Under control for now.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes as he ran for the engine bay. They’d have more holes than a slab of byss cheese at this rate. He commed Fitz as he ran. “Fitz, sitrep!”

But there was silence. No response. What the hell’s going on down there? “Commander Kilyc? Do you copy?” Still nothing.

Panicking now, he kept both blasters in front of him as he heard the unmistakable sound of metal on metal. Droids. The first shot pinged off his armored shoulder, and he dropped to one knee as he started firing, using his helmet comm as he pushed through the small cluster of droids. “This is Commander Wolffe. We have a breach in the engine bay. I need all available squads here now!”

He slammed his armored arm across the neck of the final droid before bursting into the engine bay. It was chaos - engineering troops working frantically to get the hyperdrive back online, several dead or injured lying on the floor, smoke pouring from two control panels, and shrapnel and twisted durasteel shards scattered around. He located Tinker, an expression of single-minded focus on his face as he typed in the codes to bring the drive back online. “Tink, how we looking?”

“Almost there, sir. We had a little disruption.” Tinker was nothing if not calm in a crisis.

“So I see.” He rested his hands on the back of Tinker’s chair, watching as the final code was entered and the screen went green as they were back online. He patted Tinker on the back as he commed the bridge. “Admiral, we’re back online. You can get us out of here.”

He waited for the familiar pull that told him they’d jumped to lightspeed, then left Tinker to monitor the system while he went to check on the rest of the men. Grim was already there with several medics, so he left him to it, a frown on his face when he realised Fitz wasn’t there, and neither was Eren. Kilyc. “Tinker, where are Fitz and Kilyc? They were supposed to be down here.”

“Went to head off the second dropship,” Tinker said over his shoulder. “Starboard side.”

Swearing under his breath, Wolffe ran along the corridor to the starboard bay. Already, he could see smoke wafting along the passage. He drew his blasters again and swung around into the doorway. The floor was littered with dismembered battle droids, smoke, and sparks still issuing forth—Eren’s work. There were two troopers lying on the floor – dead or injured. Then he saw Eren. She was crouched on the floor, blood on her face and neck. And beneath that, her face was white, twisted into an expression of agony. Her body was shaking. Fitz was on his knees behind her, his arms wrapped tightly around her to keep her from struggling and keep her hands away from her head, trying to calm her with soothing words. Wolffe swallowed dryly as he drew closer and pulled his helmet off. She'd taken a hit with something to the back of her head, and he could see the remains of the damaged implants through the ragged wound. He met Fitz’s worried eyes, then ran back to the doorway to holler. “Grim, I need you in here now!”

Chapter Text

Eren blinked, closing her eyes again when the light made the dull ache in her head worse. But then she started to remember. The droids. The explosions. She was lying on her side, and tried to sit up, but firm hands gripped her shoulder, pushing her back down. She looked up into a familiar pair of eyes – one white and one a golden brown. Wolffe was saying something to her, but she couldn’t hear him. Distressed, she tried to tell him, but she couldn’t hear the sound of her own voice. Tears welled in her eyes. Something must be wrong with her implants. Confused, she reached for the back of her head, but Wolffe stopped her again, holding both her hands in one of his. He made sure she was looking at him so that she could read his lips. You’ll be okay. You need to rest.

“Why can’t I hear you?” She didn’t even know if she was saying the right words. She was back in that place where everything was confusing, and her brain was feeling foggy.

But Wolffe seemed to understand. Your implants got damaged. She pulled one of her hands from his to reach for the back of her head, but he grabbed it again. Don’t touch.

He kept a hold of her hands, frowning at her. Pain?

She shook her head, then looked around worriedly. “Fitz?”

He’s fine.

Fitz’s face appeared over Wolffe’s shoulder then. I’m okay, ma’am. You took another hit for me.

She was relieved as she sank back against the pillow, fatigue overwhelming her. She saw Wolffe say something to Fitz, who left the room, then he sat back beside her, still holding onto her hands. She looked down. He had large hands, and he had his gloves off; the rough warmth of his fingers around hers was reassuring as her eyes drifted shut again. As she blinked a final time, she saw Wolffe’s lips moving again. I’ll keep you safe.

When Grim came back into the room with Fitz, Wolffe was still holding onto her hands as he sat by the bed. Grim ran a scanner over the sedated padawan before looking pointedly at the joined hands of his two commanders. “Problem?”

“She was trying to touch the wound.”

Grim raised a curious eyebrow. “She’s not likely to do that now, is she?”

Wolffe glared at his medic as he released her hands and let them fall onto the bed. “How is she?”

“Stable for now. I’ll up the sedation until we get her back to Coruscant and hand her over to the Halls of Healing. Does the general know?”

“I spoke to him a while ago,” Fitz confirmed. “They found Tano, so he’s waiting for us at the Temple.”

Grim nodded approvingly as he injected something into the cannula in his patient’s hand. “Good. They have everything there that we don’t have. Commander Wolffe, some of the other wounded could do with a morale-boosting visit. The conscious ones.”

Wolffe gave his medic another unimpressed look as he got up. “What’s the rundown?”

“Two dead. Twelve injured. Two of those in bacta.”

“How bad?”

“I’ll know when they come out of the tanks. Nothing I can do until we get them to Coruscant. If they deteriorate, we’ll need to divert to a med station.”

Wolffe nodded grimly. “Keep me posted. I’ll let the admiral know so we’re ready.” He gave a final look at the woman in the bed, then left to go up to the bridge, pushing Fitz out with him. “What did you mean before? That she took another hit for you?”

Fitz thought back to the day Eren had joined them onboard the Triumphant. Within hours, she’d saved his life twice. “She was shoving me out of the way. Just like the first time.”

“The first time?”

“Before we lost the Triumphant. She pushed me out of the way of a blast on the way to the escape pods.”

“You never told me about that.”

“I never got a chance to,” Fitz shrugged. “I was too busy getting saved by her in the escape pod.”

“I guess you got to see what she was capable of before I did.”

“I guess I did. All she wants is to be good enough, Wolffe. And she is. I owe her my life, and I won’t ever forget that.”

Wolffe watched his lieutenant as he headed for his quarters. Fitz was right. He often was, much to Wolffe’s chagrin. Eren was good enough. She’d proven herself more than adequately, and he needed to tell her that when she recovered. If she recovered. He had to believe she would. He trusted Grim. Grim, who had painstakingly picked dozens of tiny shards of metal and wire out of the back of her head – the remnants of her implants. Grim would tell him if things were any worse. His own implant felt gritty as he made his way to the bridge to speak to Coburn. He was tired after sitting in medbay all night, or day or whatever it was now, and it annoyed him that his cybernetic eye wasn’t somehow immune to the usual symptoms of fatigue.

Wolffe stood with General Plo as Eren’s stretcher was taken from the shuttle. Grim had kept her sedated for the remainder of the journey, and she looked peaceful despite having her head wrapped in bandages. Plo Koon stopped the stretcher as it moved past him, resting a clawed hand gently on her cheek for a moment before sending her on her way to the Halls of Healing. He glanced over at his clone commander, stoic as always despite his concern. “She will recover, Wolffe. She’ll be back with us before you know it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Plo walked with his commander back towards the shuttle. “What of the other wounded?”

“Grim’s escorted them to the base hospital. I’m going there now to check on them.”

“I’ll leave that in your capable hands, then. Keep me informed if anything is required.”

Wolffe knew what that meant. He knew his general would make any necessary arrangements to have his men properly treated if what they needed was more than the hospital offered. Like an optical implant. “I’ll keep you posted, sir.”

“Good. We’ll be grounded until repairs have been made to the ship. That will give everyone time to recover.”

“Very good, sir.” He saluted and jogged back to the shuttle, taking a final glance at the large doors Eren’s stretcher had disappeared through. She was where she needed to be. And he needed to focus on his men. He banged on the side of the hull as he jumped in. “Back to base.”

Back at base hospital, he stood with Grim, eyes on the one trooper still in bacta. Izac. A good man. They were all good men, fighting and dying for the Republic. “Prognosis?”

“Good. His vitals are stable now. I’ll pull him out later.”

“And the others?”

“All fine. They’ve been discharged back to barracks.”

“What about you, Grim?”

“What about me?”

Wolffe rolled his eyes. “You need to get some rest.”

Grim snorted. “I’ll rest when you rest.”

“Fine,” Wolffe said shortly. “I’ll wait, and we’ll go back to barracks together.”

“Suit yourself,” Grim shrugged as he left Izac to go back to the recovery ward. “How’s Kilyc?”

“Fine. I don’t know. She’s at the Temple.”

Grim gave him an odd look. “She’ll be fine. She’ll get better treatment there than she’d get here.”

Wolffe looked around. The facilities were good. Very good. But they had limits. And they had time restraints. And then there was the budget. The budget that decided whether a trooper was worth ‘further investment’. Like him. He knew that without General Plo’s intervention, he likely wouldn’t be there now. Most significant injuries were taken care of on Kamino, and it was an unspoken fact that many troopers never came back. As he watched Grim wander from bed to bed, doing final checks on his patients before handing them over, he idly wondered if Eren was aware of the situation. It’s possible General Plo had told her. He almost smiled to himself as he thought about what she might say - that’s pretty fucked up - or words to that effect. The more her confidence grew, the more he…they…got to see to see the real her.

When he looked up, Grim was watching him, a curious look on his face. “Something amusing?”

“Not you, that’s for sure.”

Grim snorted as he slotted the datapad back where the medic on duty could check observations. “I’m amusing. It’s just that you don’t get my sense of humour.”

“Does anyone get your sense of humour?” Wolffe asked as they left the hospital together. “I’ve heard of black humour, but some of the stuff I’ve seen you joke about…”

“Maybe it’s a medic thing.”

“No, I don’t think they’re all as bad as you.”

The two men made their way back to the barracks in companionable silence, and Wolffe had just dropped down on his bunk when his comlink beeped. Now what? He sat up and grabbed the device from his small desk. “Wolffe.”

“No kidding. Where are you?”

Wolffe tried not to sigh too audibly. Neyo. “I’m in my bunk trying to catch up on six weeks of sleep. What do you want?”

“Heard you were in town. You’ve been gifted this opportunity to catch up with your favourite brother.”

“Why? Is Bly with you?”

“Fuck off. Come on, you know it’s now or maybe never.”

“I’ll take never.”

“Fine. I’ll be there to get you in fifteen minutes.”

Wolffe tossed the comlink aside and sat on his bunk for a moment. He was tired. He was exhausted. The last thing he wanted to do was go out with Neyo. But it had been a long time, and Neyo was right. It was now or maybe never. Muttering under his breath, he pulled his armor back on and went by Grim’s quarters on his way out. The medic was just coming out of the shower and looked alarmed to see Wolffe there. “Something happened? What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I’m going out. Call me if you need me.”

Grim grabbed a clean set of fatigues from his locker and started dressing. “Out? Commander, you haven’t had a decent night’s sleep for a few weeks. I strongly recommend you stay in.”

“Suggestion noted.”

“It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a recommendation. A medically based one.”

“Like I said, duly noted. Neyo’s in town. It’s been a while.”

Grim pulled a face at the mention of the commander of the 91st. “That sounds like a barrel of laughs.”

“Neyo was in the same pod as me. It matters.”

“Yeah, I know.” Grim tossed his towel in the corner and dropped down on his bunk. “Have a drink or two for me.”

“I will. Make sure you get some sleep. Doctor’s orders.”

He heard Grim swear at him as he slipped out of the room, a small smile crossing his face. You never knew what you were going to get when you were assigned new troops. Sometimes, it was a good fit, sometimes not. Rebuilding the 104th had been a challenge – getting to know new men all over again. But Grim had been a blessing. Capable, no-nonsense, and good brother. He’d gotten lucky there. He'd just made it to the exit of the barracks when Neyo sped up on a BARC speeder, braking hard at the door. “Get on.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes and climbed onto the sidecar seat. “Who’d you pay off to get this?”

“I’m a Marshal Commander. I take whatever I want.”

“For fuck’s sake.” He clung onto the seat as Neyo darted the BARC out through the main gates and shot them across the city to dock on the platform of 79’s. Neyo stopped at the bar to get a bottle of something and two glasses, then led the way to a booth up the back.

The two men sat and pulled off their helmets, and Neyo studied his brother closely as he poured them a drink. “Well, you look like shit.”

“So do you. When are you having that mess scrubbed off your face? What kind of Marshal Commander needs his own designation tattooed on his face?”

Neyo ignored Wolffe’s questions as he gulped down his first drink and poured another. “How long you stuck here?”

“Till repairs are done.” Wolffe downed his own drink in two gulps and slid his glass across the table to be refilled. “We’ve got some wounded still recovering as well.”

“I heard. Heard your new padawan got the back of her head blown off.”

Wolffe thought about the injury Kilyc had sustained. It was bad, but it wasn’t quite as dramatic as Neyo was making out. “She’s got implants that need replacing.”

“Implants? She copying you? Or are they palming off the second-rate ones now?”

Wolffe glared at his brother. “She’s not second-rate.”

“No? How’d she get so badly injured then?”

“Protecting one of my officers. Why all the questions?”

“Just curious,” Neyo shrugged. “Better you than me, though. I can’t imagine getting some kid dumped on me and having to share command with them.”

Wolffe bristled this time, but it was out of guilt as much as anything. Neyo was just verbalising the things he’d thought about Kilyc when she’d first arrived. Back when he did feel as though she’d been dumped on him. Back before he knew what she was capable of. She knew her place in the 104th now. She always deferred to Wolffe when it came to command decisions. They made it work. He refilled his glass and gave his brother another glare. “I doubt you’ve got anything to worry about. Your own men barely tolerate you. They’re not likely to let a padawan anywhere near you.”

Neyo scoffed as he tossed back another drink. “As if I’d want one.”

Wolffe shook his head as he downed his drink. Neyo really was a miserable son of a bitch.

Chapter Text

Eren rubbed the back of her head as she followed Master Plo through the Senate complex. They were meeting with several senators regarding aid and support to planets outside the Core Worlds. Planets not necessarily involved in the war, but struggling with the residual issues that a galactic conflict caused. Access to resources and freedom of movement were the primary concerns.

Her head didn’t hurt anymore, but she was still readjusting to the new implants. And she had a large, messy scar at the base of her skull, a reminder that would always be there. Master Plo had told her that Grim had spent hours removing all the tiny fragments of shrapnel and that he’d had to leave the wound open for the new implant. And she knew she’d need to see Tinker once she was back on board for a better receiver. It was going to be strange to be back on board after several weeks. The cruiser had deployed without her. War didn’t wait. But for now, she was alive and fit for duty.

She looked around at the opulent surroundings. There was a stateliness to it, like the Jedi Temple, only more lavish and ornate. Realising she’d fallen behind, she jogged to catch up with her master. “Master Plo, what happens after this briefing?”

“That is yet to be seen. Once we have the information, the Council will decide how best to deploy us.”

“Will the Hand come back here?”

“No. We will go and meet them. Wolffe is in command with Admiral Coburn for now. We might be deployed to do something more in keeping with the Jedi code.”

“Keeping the peace?”

“Indeed.”

Eren made a face as she followed him into the conference room. “I’m not sure how the 104th would feel about that. They’re made to fight.”

“And you and I both know there is much more to them than that.”

Smiling to herself, she followed Master Plo into the room, bowing politely to the assembled senators. Master Yoda was there, and Master Windu. Master Skywalker and Master Kenobi, as well. She looked around and confirmed that she was the most junior person in the room. Feeling very out of place, she found a chair against the wall, away from the table. But Master Yoda spotted her and patted the chair next to him. “Sit, you will, young Kilyc. Learn you must.”

Swallowing nervously, Eren moved to the chair beside Master Yoda, smiling feebly at the Pantoran senator on her other side. The young woman smiled warmly at her and leaned over to whisper, “I’m Riyo. Don’t worry; I’m pretty new here as well.”

Comforted by the fact she wasn’t the only young newcomer in the room, Eren relaxed slightly, doing her best to focus on the discussion at hand. She found herself sitting across from Senator Amidala, impressed that the woman was able to hold her head up with the overblown headpiece she was wearing. Bail Organa sat beside her, a tall, imposing man. But, when he caught her eye, he smiled kindly at her. She pricked up when the discussion moved into how best to deploy the troops to manage the competing interests of aid and defence. She’d always seen being a Jedi as being there to help others. That was how she had to see the war now – assisting the galaxy in achieving stability and peace. The sooner, the better. She blinked when Master Plo turned to her. “Eren, what is your view?”

She swallowed dryly. What was her view? Senator Amidala gave her an encouraging look across the table. She chose her words carefully. “The Republic has a duty to aid and protect its member planets, even in a war. The sooner we can bring the war to an end, the sooner those worlds can stand on their own feet. But we can’t neglect them in the meantime, even though resources are stretched.”

“I agree with Padawan Kilyc,” Senator Chuchi said. “We cannot ignore the plight of those less fortunate.”

“Concur, we do,” Master Yoda nodded sagely. “Easy, it will not be, but make it work, we must.”

Eren sat back, relieved. It felt good to be heard, but it felt even better to say something that they agreed with. As the meeting drew to a close, she waited outside the room for Master Plo to tie up the meeting with the more senior representatives. As she waited, Riyo Chuchi slipped from the room with some of the others and smiled at her. “You did well in there. I remember how nervous I was at my first Senate briefing.”

“Thank you,” Eren smiled at the young woman. “Next time, it will be easier.”

“It will be. I look forward to seeing you again soon.”

She leaned against the wall to wait, straightening up when she saw someone she recognised. “Captain Rex?”

The blonde captain diverted to speak to her. “Commander, good to see you back on your feet. I heard you took quite a hit.”

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad. I’m as good as new now.”

“Better than new with all the hardware you’re carrying. Cody was complaining the other day about you and Wolffe and your enhanced body parts.”

“Well, they’re not that enhanced. I wouldn’t recommend getting anything replaced. Are you waiting for Master Skywalker? He left with the others a little while ago.”

“Yeah, he always seems to disappear whenever we’re here. I’ll go and wait with the speeder. You heading back out to join the boys?”

“I think so. I’m just waiting for Master Plo to tell me.”

Rex hesitated, as though debating whether to say something or not. He swapped his helmet to his other arm. “How are things going with Wolffe? He can be a bit…”

“A bit what?”

“Well…a bit…prickly.”

Eren wasn’t sure how to respond. She knew Wolffe could be a little difficult to get along with. But she also knew that only really came out when he saw any kind of risk to his men. He wasn’t chatty or good-humoured like Fitz, but she was comfortable in her relationship with him now. “Things are going fine, thank you. It took a while to convince him that I was reasonably competent. We’re fine now.”

Rex nodded approvingly. “Good. He could do with someone to share the responsibility with. Good luck out there.” He saluted her and walked off towards the exit. Eren watched him leave, thinking about the conversation. She was mostly comfortable with Wolffe now - up until recently. Things had been different, and she’d spent much of her recovery time contemplating her attraction to him. Attachments were forbidden by the Jedi Code. But even if they weren’t, any kind of relationship outside of their professional one would be entirely inappropriate. So, that was that. It was a crush. She’d get over it.

A few minutes later, Master Plo came out of the conference room. He rested a hand on her shoulder as they walked along the wide corridor. “You spoke wisely, young padawan.”

“I’ve had good teachers in you and Master Arynn. Are we leaving to join the Hand now?”

“You will be leaving as soon as a shuttle is available to take you. I am needed elsewhere for now. But I have faith in you and Wolffe to manage things in my absence.”

“But—”

“Resources are scarce, Eren. That is why we need to have regular meetings like the one we just had. We need to try and find a way to manage the best way to deploy our forces. You will be fine. You and Wolffe make a good team.”

“Yes, Master.”

Wolffe glanced up as the door to the bridge hissed open, an undefinable emotion filling him. She was back. She was alright. She looked fine as she went to greet Coburn. But then she turned her head, and he saw the almost bald patch on the back of her head with the ugly scar pulled together around the new silver port. He winced. He couldn’t imagine having to go through the process of having his implant replaced all over again. At least his helmet offered some protection. He wondered idly if he could convince her to wear a helmet. He didn’t ever want to see her in that kind of pain again. She hadn’t screamed or cried out, but he could clearly remember the agony on her face and the utter helplessness he felt. But a helmet probably wasn’t going to happen. Jedi could be frustrating like that. She and General Plo wore vambraces, but that was it. Almost not worth it. As he pondered her clothing, it occurred to him that she was dressed differently. The short grey robe was gone, replaced with a brown one instead. It was sleeveless, and she wore it over a thin undershirt in a bland beige. With the wide belt that held her lightsaber accentuating her waist, he was reminded once again that she wasn’t a kid. It wasn’t that she was voluptuous or traditionally beautiful. He’d seen the kind of women his men ogled in holozines and holovids, and at 79’s. Hell, he’d had his own brief dalliances with glamourous women, and Kilyc definitely wasn’t that. But she wasn’t a kid.

When he looked up from the screen, she was right there, a smile on her face. “Wolffe.”

“Commander. Welcome back.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry I was gone for so long.” She rubbed the back of her head. “Things were a little tricky to put back together.”

Wolffe grabbed her arm and turned her so he could examine her head. “Tricky?”

“Well, there wasn’t a wound last time. The implant went in a lot easier. It’s fine now, though.”

“Right. Tinker’s got your receiver ready and waiting. He’s been bugging me every day about when you were coming back.”

“He has?”

“Yeah. They all have. They got used to you being around.”

Eren smiled inwardly. She knew that was his way of telling her the men missed her. It felt good to know she’d found her place in the battalion. “Well, I got used to being around too.”

Wolffe leaned over and tapped the chief comms officer on the shoulder. “I’ll be in the wardroom. Buzz if you need me.”

“Yes, sir.”

He turned back to Eren. “I’m going for a caf if you want to join me.”

As they walked along the corridor, he dropped back a step to look at her scar again. “How long were you without ears?”

“A couple of weeks. Things had to heal up in there.”

“Back to lipreading then?”

“Yes. So you’d better watch yourself.”

Wolffe stepped up beside her again, eyebrow raised. “Are you threatening me?”

“No!” Eren flushed, wondering if she’d gone too far. “It was just a joke. I—”

“I know. I do have a sense of humour despite rumours to the contrary.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise. You’re allowed to make a joke.” He opened the door of the wardroom and stepped aside to let her in first. “I don’t want you to feel like you can’t…be yourself around me. And I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”

“You’re sorry?”

Wolffe plonked a mug of caf on the table in front of her. “I could have been a little easier on you when you first arrived. I never meant to—”

“Wolffe, I know why you did it. And it helped me learn and get better at all this. I feel a lot more confident now than I did, and that’s thanks to you. And if other people’s opinions are anything to go by, you probably don’t want to hear my jokes.”

Wolffe leaned back in his chair and gave her a challenging stare. “Try me.”

“Okay…umm…what did the bartender say to the eopie?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hey, buddy, why the long face?” Wolffe’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t blink or twitch a muscle. Not even an eye roll. Eren shrugged dejectedly. “See, I told you they were bad.”

“Oh, was that the joke? I was expecting something funny.”

Eren stared at him for a moment, confused, then she burst out laughing, almost spilling her caf. Wolffe watched her, trying to suppress his own smile. It felt good to see her laugh. And it felt good to be the reason behind it. Her laughter was infectious, and he found himself chuckling as he got up to refill his caf. “You’re going to need to get some better material.”

“Actually, a friend came to visit while I was recuperating and told me a new one.”

“A new what?” Fitz came into the room, pulling his helmet off, and Wolffe found himself unreasonably irritated by the intrusion. He had no right to be. Fitz was an officer. He was entitled to be there.

“A new joke.”

Fitz groaned as he joined them at the table. “Not one of your lame Jedi jokes?”

“No! This one’s a good one. Rak’hin picked it up on the Outer Rim somewhere.”

“Well, who’s Rak’hin?” Fitz asked. “That doesn’t mean much if he supplied you with all your other terrible jokes.”

“Rak’hin’s one of my oldest friends. We grew up in the Temple together. And if you don’t want to hear my joke, I’ll save it for Tinker. He always appreciates them.”

“Tinker never leaves engineering. That’s not saying much.”

“Tell your joke,” Wolffe said in his most monotone voice. “The suspense is killing me.”

Eren scowled at him. “You know, you’re not known for your sense of humour.”

Fitz laughed. “She’s got you there, Wolffe.”

“Well, maybe this highly anticipated joke will bring it out in me.”

“Go ahead, Eren,” Fitz said, nudging her arm. “Give it your best shot.”

Wolffe tried not to frown at his lieutenant’s use of her first name. He knew she and Fitz were close, and it wasn’t strictly against protocol amongst officers, but it still made him uncomfortable. Still, he kept his expression neutral as she took a sip of her caf, readying herself. “Okay…a man came across a porg one day when he was out in town. He didn’t know what to do with it, so he took it by the wing to find help. He found a policeman who said, ‘You should take that thing to the zoo.’ Several days later, the policeman saw the man with the porg again. ‘Hey, I thought I told you to take that thing to the zoo!’ ‘I did,’ the man said. ‘Now I’m taking it to the museum.’”

Once again, Wolffe’s expression didn’t change. Not even a flicker. She looked at Fitz, who was looking nonplussed. But then a tiny smile crossed his face. “That was terrible. I mean, really, really bad.”

“But you’re smiling.”

“That’s a pity smile.”

She smacked his arm with an outraged gasp. “You’re so mean! Maybe it’s a clone thing.”

“Being mean?”

“Having no sense of humour.”

Wolffe downed the last of his caf and stood. “Maybe it’s a Jedi thing to tell terrible jokes. I’m going back to the bridge. Fitz, join me there when you’re done.”

“Yes, sir.” Fitz looked over at Eren, laughing at her still-outraged expression. “You’re going to have to find a new source of jokes, ma’am. That one was the worst. Or maybe it’s the head injury making you think it’s funny.”

She finally gave up and chuckled wryly. “Okay, I guess it was pretty bad.”

“Well, you’ve got time to work on it. Long way to the Qiilura system.”

“How bad is it?”

“Don’t know yet. Don’t worry, we’ll get to find out soon enough, and you’ll be back out in it. You ready for that?”

“I will be once I get Tinker to sort me out.”

“You should go do that, “Fitz advised. “He’s anxiously awaiting your arrival.”

“I’ll go now. He might appreciate my new joke.”

“Even Tinker won’t laugh at that one. But give it your best shot.” Eren stuck her tongue out at him as she left the room, and Fitz laughed as he followed her out. “Good to have you back, ma’am.”

Chapter Text

It was quiet on the ship when Wolffe went into the wardroom. Sleep cycle for all except essentials. But not for him. Some days, he didn’t even bother trying. He just caught a quick nap when the time was right. He was never quite able to shut down. Not really. Not since Abregado. He could never fully abandon himself to sleep. Not when his men might need him. There was no logic to it. It didn’t make sense. They could wake him if something happened. But he still couldn’t let himself take that risk. When he stepped through the door, he was surprised to see someone there, but not surprised to see it was her. She was as messed up as he was when it came to sleep. They had that in common, at least. She looked up from the holochart she was studying. “Just trying to learn more about the Qiilura system.”

“And?”

“And they’re still trying to stay neutral.”

Wolffe gave an irritated grunt as he made caf. “Neutral. We’re in the middle of a war. They can’t afford to stay neutral. They need to pick a side.”

“But all they have is agriculture. How can they pick a side?”

“They’re sitting on two major hyperspace lanes. If they want to protect their trade, they need to let us in to ensure they’re secured. It’s in all our interests.”

“I suppose so. It just feels like we’re dragging worlds into this war that would rather just quietly get on with things.”

“Talk to the Seps then. They’re the ones causing problems there.”

“I know. But we still have a responsibility to protect them.”

“Maybe these planets need to learn to protect themselves.”

Eren took the mug of caf he passed her. “It still all comes back to resources, though.”

Wolffe sat beside her and examined the holochart. “I might send you out in your fighter again.”

“But—”

“General Plo’s not here, so you can lead.”

She contemplated arguing with him, but Wolffe was the one she deferred to in Master Plo’s absence, and if he thought she should lead, she would lead. So, she nodded finally. “Okay. If you think I should.”

“Just try and watch your language.”

“I thought everyone was used to having me around now.”

“Mostly. I don’t want you making my men blush, though. Did you see Tinker?”

Eren nodded again. “All sorted. He’s clever.”

“He is. We’d be lost without him.”

“He laughed at my porg joke as well.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes at her. “Well, maybe he’s not as smart as I thought.”

Eren smiled slyly at him. “Does it hurt your implant when you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Roll your eyes that way.”

“What way? What are you talking about? I don’t roll my eyes.”

She gave a disbelieving snort. “And I don’t tell terrible jokes.”

Wolffe scowled at her, consciously trying to keep his eyes steady. “I do not roll my eyes.”

“If you say so.”

He sighed irritably as he slumped back against the bulkhead. “You should go and get some sleep.”

“So should you,” she shot back.

Wolffe gave her a sidelong glance. “When did you get so mouthy?”

“I’m trying to be more assertive. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Not at my expense.”

“Warthog said I just needed to shout louder, but I think there’s more to it than that.”

Wolffe dragged a tired hand through his hair. “You’ll notice that Warthog is a pilot, not an officer.” He stood and offered her his hand. “Come on. You need to try and get some sleep, and so do I.”

Eren took his hand and let him pull her up, surprised when he didn’t release her hand immediately. Instead, he brushed his fingers over the comlink fitted into her vambrace. “Where’s your other one?”

She used her free hand to pull the second comlink from a pouch on her belt. “Here.”

“Good. I don’t want to lose you.”

Eren blinked, rendered speechless, as he released her hand and pushed her out into the corridor. She didn’t know what he meant by that. Did he mean he didn’t want the inconvenience of her being taken or lost or becoming uncontactable in some way or something more? And what kind of something more? She glanced over at him as they walked. She didn’t want to lose him either, and she was troubled by how much she worried. She’d had a lot of time to think about it while she’d been recovering at the Temple, but she hadn’t come away any further enlightened. Meditation hadn’t helped; it had just given her mind the space to think about him more deeply, and she was fearful of what that meant.

Still distracted, she almost walked into his back as he stopped at her door. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He used the override code to unlock her door and push her inside. “Get some sleep. Maybe those Jedi senses will start working properly.”

When the door closed, she sank down on her bunk. Attachment was forbidden, but sometimes, she found it difficult to understand what attachment really meant.

Eren glanced at Wolffe as the transmission with Senator Amidala and Master Yoda ended. He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. Bemused, she shrugged her shoulders at him. “What?”

“A relief mission. We’ve got better things to do.”

“But we’re the closest to Aleen. They need our help. You heard the senator.”

“I heard. But we’re needed elsewhere as well.”

Eren followed him from the bridge, trying not to smile at his exasperated demeanour. “I’m sure Master Plo can hold out for a day or two. Who knows? Maybe you’ll like Aleen. I’ve heard it’s very pretty.”

He shot her an unimpressed look over his shoulder as she trotted to keep up with him. “It’s a relief mission, not a holiday. We’re not there to sightsee. Clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Wolffe gave another frustrated huff as the lift took them to the hangar. “I don’t need this…”

Down on the surface, Eren did her best to keep a straight face as she followed Wolffe towards the Aleena welcoming committee. Fitz pulled his helmet off and leaned over to whisper to her. “This is where you get to see Wolffe interacting with the general public.”

“Does he have a friendly, non-threatening face?”

“So the legends say. I’ve never seen it myself, though.”

Eren giggled, quickly stifling it when Wolffe pulled his helmet off and turned around to glare at them. Keeping her head down, she stayed behind him as they reached a cluster of Aleena, all chattering excitedly. After a moment, Wolffe turned back to her. “You get any of that?”

“No.”

“Well, what do they teach you in that place? I thought Jedi were supposed to know about everything.”

“Sorry, I only speak Basic and Jedi.”

Wolffe gave her another dirty look before turning his attention back to the locals. “Okay, who packed the translator droid?”

Eren stepped back behind Fitz, struggling to keep a straight face as Wolffe tried to communicate with the Aleena through Senator Amidala’s protocol droid. Fitz turned to give her a disapproving look, then grabbed her arm to steady her when the ground rumbled with an aftershock. “That’s your punishment,” he whispered.

“Punishment for what?”

“Laughing at the commander.”

“I wasn’t laughing at him,” she argued. “I was laughing with him.”

Fitz looked back at Wolffe. “Yeah, he’s not laughing.” Still holding Eren’s arm, he pulled her off towards the settlement. “Let’s go do a recce and see what else they need.”

She glanced back at Wolffe to see he was watching them leave, and he mouthed something at her. Behave. She blinked. He was testing her lipreading skills. She quickly turned back to Fitz and walked with him into the small town. “Fitz, how do you feel about jobs like this?”

“Jobs like what?”

“Relief missions.”

Fitz gave her an odd look as they skirted around a small group of Aleena waving at them. Eren waved back, looking pointedly at Fitz until he did the same. He grumbled something under his breath as he waved at the locals. “Why do you ask?”

“Well…Wolffe seems a little grumpy about it.”

“Wolffe’s a little grumpy about a lot of things. But to answer your question, relief missions are all part of the job. But they’re not really what we’re made for. We were bred to fight.”

Eren frowned, troubled by the idea of men being bred to fight, let alone the men that she knew so well. “Is that really how you see yourself?”

“How should I see myself?”

“Well…I don’t know. You’re not droids. You’re all individuals. You all have your own opinions and feelings about things.”

“Did General Plo tell you that?”

“No. But I know he agrees with me…” She trailed off as two Aleena ran up to her and grabbed her hands to pull her towards a dwelling. Shrugging at Fitz, she let them drag her along.

Fitz followed behind, amused as she tried to make sense of the excited locals and figure out what they were saying. “Want me to find the droid?”

“No, I think they just want to show me something.” When they reached the dwelling, the Aleena tugged on her hands, pulling her to the small doorway. She stopped as she figured out what to do next, then got down on her hands and knees and crawled through after the first villager. She glanced back over her shoulder at Fitz. “Coming?”

Fitz cocked his head at the low, narrow doorway. “You think I can fit through there?”

“Oh, good point. I’ll be fine here. You don’t have to wait around.”

Chuckling to himself, Fitz wandered back to the staging area. Kilyc was better equipped for community relations than Wolffe. He checked on the unloading process and found Grim overseeing the setting up of a temporary hospital. “Everything under control?”

Grim mumbled something in the affirmative, eyes on his datapad. Then he looked up. “Where’s the little commander?”

“Liaising with some of the locals. She can fit into their houses.”

Grim snorted. “Well, they do say size isn’t everything.”

“I just hope she’s enough to repair whatever goodwill Wolffe manages to undo.”

Grim snorted again. “She’s a Jedi. They’re good, but they’re not that good.”

“Padawan, Grim. Still just a padawan.”

“I think I prefer them that way. It gives us something to build on. Watch your six.”

Fitz turned to see Wolffe striding towards them, a displeased expression on his face. “Fitz, sitrep.”

“Just checking in with Grim, sir. The hospital is well underway. And I think over there would be a good place for the kitchen. It’s central to the village.”

Wolffe frowned at the area Fitz was pointing at, then he nodded his agreement. “Fine. Get that sorted. The sooner we’re out of here, the better. Where’s Kilyc?”

“She’s umm…taking care of diplomatic relations.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“She’s liaising with some of the locals over there.”

Exasperated with this whole situation, Wolffe stomped over to the small cluster of still-standing dwellings that sat beyond the dome-shaped Republic tents his men had set up. He stopped outside one when he heard excited chattering from within. “Commander Kilyc?”

After a few moments, Kilyc’s head popped out through the small doorway. “Wolffe. Do you need me?”

“What are you doing in there?”

Eren smiled sheepishly at him. “I was invited.” She held out a piece of something that looked like fruit, orange and juicy. “Here, try this.”

“I’m not trying that. I don’t even know what it is.”

“Neither do I, but it’s delicious.”

Wolffe tried to contain his eye roll as he squatted in front of the door. “Commander, we’re not here to socialize. I need you out at the staging area.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” She disappeared back into the dwelling, and he could hear muffled voices, then her head appeared again. She got both her arms out and wriggled to get her top half through the small doorway, looking back with a frown as she tried to figure out how to get her hips through. “It was a lot easier getting in…” Frustrated by this ridiculous scenario, Wolffe grabbed her arms and hauled her out the rest of the way until she was lying in the dirt. She got to her feet and brushed the dirt off herself. “That was like being born all over again.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Fuck, sorry!”

Wolffe tried not to let his smirk show as he started walking back. It amused him when her careful padawan facade slipped. He often wondered what her previous master had been like—a colourful character from the sound of it.

She tried to cover as she caught up with him. “Well…neither would I, really. Just guessing.” She waved surreptitiously at the two Aleena who had been hosting her, then followed Wolffe back to the staging area. “How’s the download going?”

“It’s going. I wish it would go faster.”

“I’m sure Master Plo can manage without us for a bit longer.”

Wolffe grumbled something under his breath as he sidestepped one of the small Aleena darting past him. “I was thinking more of me.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad. Do you want me to take over while you hide on the ship?”

He gave her an unimpressed look. “No. You supervise the kitchen set-up. I’m going to check on those droids.”

“Yes, sir.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes as he made his way towards the mainframe station. He just needed this job to be done. He glanced back at Eren as she checked in with the team trying to set up the communal kitchen around the protesting King Manchucho. She was doing her best to placate the small king as he bustled around the troopers’ legs and got in the way. He watched as she squatted down to try and reason with the king, wondering how she could possibly communicate with him. But the king seemed to calm down. She got up and spoke to the troopers and they moved the cooking facilities back in behind the temporary settlement. The king seemed delighted with this outcome, waving his tiny sceptre around before wrapping his arms around her legs and hugging her. Wolffe pulled a face. Better her than him. But Eren didn’t seem to be bothered as she patted the king on the top of his head before gently extracting herself. Fitz was right. Diplomatic relations.

Eren ran to board the gunship, stopping to pat the nose art before jumping in. She almost burst out laughing at the expression on Wolffe’s face as Senator Amidala’s two droids bickered and chatted about their adventures. She stretched up to grab a handrail as the side hatch closed, making a show of listening intently to everything the protocol droid had to say. “That sounds fascinating! Tell me what else happened.”

Wolffe gave her his filthiest glare, then put his helmet on as the ship went back up to the Hand of Justice. Eren desperately tried to keep a straight face as C-3PO prattled on, wincing when Fitz surreptitiously pinched her arm. “You’re on thin ice.”

Chastened, she tried to maintain a mature demeanour as they made the short trip. But every time she imagined Wolffe’s eyes rolling under his helmet, she had to stifle her giggles. Once Warthog had them back in the hangar, she meekly followed Wolffe towards the lift. “I apologise for my behaviour, Wolffe.”

He pulled his helmet off and glared at her for a beat, then his expression softened. “It’s fine. You saved me from having to deal with them.” He followed her into the lift. “How did you resolve that kitchen issue?”

“I don’t know. I just kept pointing to different spots until he seemed happy.”

“Well, you’re more patient than I would have been.”

Eren smiled slyly at him. “So, finally, I’m better than you at something?”

He glared at her again before shoving her out on the bridge level. “Don’t push your luck.”

Chapter Text

Eren looked up as Wolffe and Fitz came into the wardroom, stopping their conversation when they saw her there. She eyed them suspiciously. “Were you talking about me?”

Fitz glanced at Wolffe. “It was all good.”

Not convinced, she narrowed her eyes at them. “I can read your minds, you know.” Wolffe raised a sceptical eyebrow at her, and she huffed indignantly. “Okay, fine. I can’t read your minds. Not from here, anyway.”

Fitz made a show of sitting at the other end of the large table. “I’ll just keep my thoughts to myself down here.”

Wolffe sat somewhere in the middle to scan his datapad. “General Plo will RV with us within the hour.”

“Then what?”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

“Oh.” Eren leaned on the table and rested her chin in her hand. “I was thinking maybe we should request a protocol droid for the 104th.”

Wolffe glared at her. “You do that, and I’ll airlock you over Tatooine.”

Eren looked appalled. “Why? I think we could use one to talk to members of the public instead of you.”

“I’m not here to make idle small talk with civilians. I’ve got better things to do. Maybe that can be your job.”

“What, follow you around and apologise for everything that comes out of your mouth.”

Fitz winced when he saw the look on Wolffe’s face. Eren had gone too far in her teasing. But then he saw Wolffe was struggling to maintain his stern look, a smile lurking behind it. “You can do that if you like,” Wolffe said. “That might free me up to really say what I think.”

“I’m not sure the galaxy’s ready for that,” Eren said with a sour look. “We’re trying to win this war, not start a whole bunch of little ones through poor diplomacy.”

Wolffe was outwardly amused now. “Lucky I’m not a diplomat then.”

Eren was getting frustrated with him. “Diplomacy can actually be effective, you know.”

“So can a turbolaser,” Wolffe countered. “Your point?”

“Oh, I give up,” she huffed, heading for the door. I’m going to wait for Master Plo in the hangar. And I can hear you rolling your eyes at me.”

Wolffe grabbed his datapad and followed her. “I’ll come with you. I need to talk to the general.”

“Why can’t you talk to me?”

“What?” Wolffe stopped walking, looking at her strangely.

“What do you need to talk to Master Plo about that you can’t talk to me about?”

Wolffe was looking cornered now. There were so many things he couldn’t talk to her about. Or the general, for that matter. But that’s not what she was asking. So, he started walking down the corridor again. “Orders. I want to know where we’re going next.”

“Oh.” Eren jogged to catch up with him. “Are you scared we’re going to get another relief mission?”

“I’m not scared. I’d just rather get back into fighting. That’s what we’re here for.”

Eren frowned. It reminded her of what Fitz had said about being bred to fight, and it made her feel uncomfortable. “But that’s not the only thing you’re here for.”

“Isn’t it? I can’t think of anything else, can you?”

“But…what about when the war’s over? What happens then?”

“That depends on who wins,” he shrugged. “I don’t think anyone knows the answer to that.”

“Well, that’s pretty fucked up,” she muttered, too deep in her thoughts to see the smirk Wolffe had to suppress. “Someone must know.”

Wolffe pushed her out of the lift into the hangar. “What about you? What happens to you after the war?”

“I don’t know. I guess that depends on who wins as well. Master Plo said that now isn’t the right time for my trials. So, I suppose that’s what I’d do first. Maybe he just means I’m not ready yet.”

“What about your other master? Did she think you were ready?”

“I don’t know. We never really got around to having that conversation.”

Wolffe sat beside her on an ordnance crate. The hangar was quiet. A few mechanics tinkering on the fighters. He glanced over at Eren. She was drifting off somewhere in her thoughts, and he had a feeling he knew where. “What was she like?”

Eren seemed surprised by his question. Wolffe rarely voluntarily entered into conversations beyond what was absolutely necessary. Not with her, anyway. But he was asking now. “Master Arynn was very different to Master Plo. She was funny. She used to joke all the time. And she swore a lot.” She looked sheepishly at Wolffe. “You probably knew that already.”

“General Plo told me she had a colourful way of expressing herself.

“No, she just swore a lot. But she always said words are just words. It’s the intent behind them that matters. I guess I picked up on that. It’s a hard habit to break.”

“You’re pretty good at keeping it nice when it’s required.”

“I have to bite my tongue.”

“So do I. No one wants to know what I really think.”

Eren looked at him with a frown. “I do. What you think matters. And I know Master Plo agrees with me.”

Wolffe muttered something unintelligible under his breath; then he looked at her again. “Did she teach you how to fight?”

“Mostly. She was fast. Unorthodox. But she was effective.”

“Unorthodox?”

“Most Jedi don’t use a double blade,” she shrugged. “She did, and I do as well. When I first trained, it was with a single blade. It took a lot of hard work to be effective with the double. Easy to cut your own arm off if you get distracted.”

“I’ll try to remember not to distract you. Otherwise, you’ll end up with that robotic arm.”

Eren laughed, reminded of Comet’s musings. “I’d end up more droid than human. What about you? Who trained you?”

“We had a variety of training. Flash training, training with mercenaries and Mandalorian fighters. But my command training was with another clone. One of the Alphas.”

“Who did you learn the most from?”

Wolffe had to stop and think. No one had ever really asked him questions like this before. Questions about his life, his feelings. It was strange, but he didn’t dislike it entirely. It was like a moment of quiet in the middle of the chaos that surrounded them. A reminder that he wasn’t just a clone. He was a man with his own thoughts and feelings. Eren was sitting close to him, crowded together on the crate. “Alpha-One-Seven taught me the most. He was one of us. He understood.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, both thinking about the circumstances that had brought them there. After several minutes, Wolffe raised his arm to comm the bridge. “What’s the general’s ETA?”

“’bout ten minutes away, sir.”

Eren swung her feet idly off the edge of the crate. “Wolffe, why did you ask about Master Aryn?”

He thought for a moment. “Curiosity. Just wondering how you ended up the way you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Wolffe tried not to smile at her outraged expression. “The terrible jokes, the bad language, the exceptional lightsaber skills. She must have been interesting.”

Eren elbowed him. “My jokes are not terrible. Besides, humour is subjective.”

“Humour may be subjective, but your jokes are objectively terrible.”

“They are not! Lots of people like them.”

“If you say so.”

She tried to be angry at him, but she knew he was right. She smiled to herself, remembering Master Aryn’s awful, silly jokes. “Want to hear the first joke I remember her telling me?”

“Probably not. But go ahead, there’s no one around to see me lose my credibility by laughing out loud.”

“Okay, what do you call a nose without a body?”

Wolffe sighed theatrically. “I don’t know. What do you call a nose without a body?”

“Nobody nose.”

He gave her a look as he slid off the crate to await his general’s arrival. “You’re telling me a Jedi master told you that joke?”

“Yes. I was only young. It took me ages to get it.”

“Interesting…”

Eren jumped down and followed him. “You probably laugh at Grim’s jokes.”

“No one laughs at Grims’s jokes. Except Grim.”

“Well, at least we agree on that.”

Wolffe glanced over at her. “It tooka while for the jokes to come out.”

She shrugged. “I guess there wasn’t much to joke about when I first got here.”

They waited by the empty docking bay as a small shuttle flew into the hangar and landed in front of them. The ramp lowered, and Plo Koon swept out. “Wolffe, ready the men. Master Gallia needs our help.”

“Master Gallia? We just left her not that long ago.”

“Grievous has taken her. Time is of the essence.”

Wolffe nodded and ran for the lift. “I’ll get the men ready, sir.”

Eren stayed in the hangar with Master Plo. “General Grievous?”

Plo nodded grimly. “She was overpowered. But we will do our best to get her back.”

Eren ran with Fitz through the corridors of the Separatist ship. They had several squads with them, weapons drawn. Wolffe had taken a squad to retrieve Master Gallia, and Master Plo had gone to look for Grievous. That’s what they’d been sent to do as well, with strict instruction not to engage without Master Plo. As they rounded a corner, they came face to face with several platoons of droids marching towards them. Fitz shoved her back. “Wait here!”

“But—”

But he was already gone. “Alright, boys, fan out! Funnel ‘em down to the Slasher!”

Eren stared at him, bewildered. But then she looked around. They had the droids surrounded, and the only way out was through her. She grinned as she ignited both ends of her lightsaber. “Bring it on, Wolf Pack!”

She spun her blade rapidly as the droids were driven towards her. Some of them fell to blaster fire, but the rest were no match for the dual spinning blades, and droid arms and heads began to fly. As the last of the droids reached her, her men closed in behind, letting out a whoop as the last one fell. Eren switched to a single blade and stopped to catch her breath. She looked suspiciously at Fitz. “How long have you been planning that?”

“Just an idea I had,” he said with faux modesty. “Seemed like a good time to try it out. It actually worked better than I expected.”

Eren shoved him as they moved through the corridor. “You could have told me.”

“You figured it out,” he countered as he broke into a run to catch up with the others. “Wolffe always says you have good intuition.”

Eren faltered briefly before following Fitz. Then she smiled. Wolffe’s praise meant something to her. It wasn’t easily given. And she realised it meant as much to her as praise from Master Plo. The ship lurched, and she ran to catch up with her men. “Hey, Fitz, what do we do if we run into Grievous?”

“How about we worry about that if and when it happens?”

“Should we try the escape pods? He could be retreating, and we already have the hangar sealed off.”

Fitz nodded. “Good idea.” He gave the order, and Eren and he led the squads along the corridor that would take them to the escape pods. The remaining droids on board were in disarray, some still not aware they’d been boarded. It wasn’t easy to pick off the stragglers as they scattered.

When they raced through the doors to the escape pod bay, Eren skidded to a halt when she saw who they’d been looking for. General Grievous. She stood for a beat, staring up at the oversized cyborg. He ignited two lightsabers as he turned with a wheezing cough. Fitz came to a stop beside her as she thumbed on both blades of her own saber. He grabbed her arm and hissed, “General Plo said not to engage.”

“I don’t think I have a choice. He’ll get away.”

“Then we’ll get him next time.”

“We might not get a next time.”

Fitz raised his blaster, sticking to her side as she moved towards Grievous. “Commander…Eren, this is a bad idea.”

“I know. But we’re here now.” She took a step closer, aware of her own men closing in behind her. They had her back. “Grievous…drop your weapons.”

The cyborg laughed, or coughed, or both. It was difficult to tell. “Do you think you can stop me?”

“Not alone. But I’m not alone.”

As she said the words, she felt a ripple of something go through her men. A ripple of something good. They were all in this together. But that didn’t mean she would let anyone get hurt unnecessarily. She lowered her voice to a murmur. “Fitz, back away.”

“Not on your life, ma’am.”

“I’m ordering you. I don’t want you losing an arm to a flying blade.”

“Okay, good point.” He backed away a few paces, out of range of her blades, but kept his blaster aimed at Grievous, swallowing nervously as the cyborg approached them. But he still wasn’t expecting it when Grievous swept both blades down onto Eren. She was faster, though, and blocked them with her own lightsaber, twisting it to throw him off. He tried again, and again, she pulled the same manoeuvre, pushing him back another pace.

Fitz moved in behind her again. He could see the double-sided blade gave her an advantage over two separate ones when it came to the way Grievous was using them. But that’s about the only advantage she had. She couldn’t match him for size or strength. All she had up her sleeve was agility and speed, and she was using those to try and keep him engaged and prevent him from getting to a pod. But despite her best efforts, Grievous was easily keeping her at bay and getting closer to the pods. Fitz turned to his squads. “Fire above the commander’s head!”

Grievous was suddenly assaulted by rapid blaster fire aimed at his head and shoulders, forcing him to take evasive action. Eren tried to press the brief advantage but instead found herself faced with two more lightsabers. “Oh fuck…”

She spun her own lightsaber rapidly, trying to deflect his blows, but he had the upper hand now, and she had to leap aside to avoid his charge. Wheezing and coughing, the cyborg made it into an escape pod and blasted off before they could stop him. She stood for a moment, lightsaber still humming, then she thumbed off the blades, her shoulders slumping dejectedly. Fitz lowered his blaster and came to her side. “Well, that was something.”

“He got away.”

“Yeah, and we’re all still alive. That counts as something in my book.”

Eren looked over her squads. Fitz was right. She knew she was never going to bring Grievous in, and it had been foolish to try. But at least none of her men were injured or hurt. She hooked her lightsaber hilt back onto her belt. “Let’s go find the others then.”

When they reached the main deck, Master Plo was there with Master Gallia and Wolffe. At least that part had been successful. “Grievous got away,” she informed them. “I tried to stop him, but—”

“You had orders not to engage,” Wolffe interrupted, his tone surprising her.

“Wolffe is right,” Plo agreed. “You are no match for Grievous.”

“I know. I didn’t intend to...”

“Actually, sir,” Fitz added, “she did a pretty good job of holding that pile of scrap metal off.”

Plo rested a hand on her shoulder. “You are more like Flin than I thought. We will speak of this later, but for now, let us get back to our ship.”

It was then that she noticed the droids. The two droids from Aleen. “Aren’t they—”

“Don’t ask,” Wolffe grumbled, sighing audibly when the protocol droid launched into a detailed description of everything that had happened to them since their last encounter.

Eren couldn’t help the giggle that escaped when she jogged past him to catch up with Master Plo and Master Gallia, and when she glanced back, Wolffe pulled his helmet off to mouth something at her. I’ll deal with you later.

Chapter Text

Eren looked around curiously as the gunship she was on docked in the unfamiliar hangar. They were transferring Master Gallia to another cruiser from her fleet, this one under the command of Marshal Commander Neyo. That’s all she knew. The R2 unit trundled out ahead of her, followed by the protocol droid. She knew Master Gallia was continuing on to Coruscant and would deliver the droids to Senator Amidala as originally planned.

Fitz gave her a nudge. “May as well get out and stretch your legs. The generals need to report in, and Wolffe will be busy for a while.”

“Busy doing what?”

“Shooting the breeze with Commander Neyo. They were batchmates.”

“Like…from the same pod?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Just curious. What’s Neyo like? Is he nice?”

Fitz pulled his helmet off and thought for a moment. “I think it’s probably best you make your own judgement.”

Meanwhile, Wolffe was crossing the hangar to greet his old batchmate. “Pick up all the survivors?”

Neyo nodded. “Everyone got off. Gallia called it early.” He looked beyond Wolffe. “That your padawan?”

“She’s not my – that’s Commander Kilyc.”

Neyo smirked. “Not much to her, is there?”

Wolffe glared at his brother. He liked the way his glares looked now with his cybernetic eye. More sinister. “She just engaged Grievous and kept him from getting to any of our men. She does alright.”

“Alright, keep your hair on.” Neyo looked over again. “She’s pretty chummy with your lieutenant.”

Wolffe glanced back. Fitz was leaning on a crate, helmet off, as he laughed at something Eren had said. Just the two of them, enjoying each other’s company as they always seemed to. “I assigned Fitz to mentor her. She came to us without battle experience.”

“Mentor? Is that what you boys call it?”

Wolffe gave Neyo another filthy look. “What did you want to see me about?”

“We still need to find Grievous. Once we’ve taken those droids back and resupplied, we’ll be going after him. Any idea where he was headed?”

“He launched an escape pod. Our cruiser was too far away to get a tracking signal. I doubt if he’s still in the sector. One of his ships would have picked him up.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Neyo scrutinised the padawan again. “Are you seriously trying to tell me she held Grievous off? How?”

“I wasn’t there. But she’s got a double blade. She’s fast with it.” He realised as he said the words that there was a hint of pride in his voice. And he was proud of her, even though he didn’t have a right to be.

“Hmm. Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

Wolffe eyed his brother suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because I’m the Marshal Commander of the 91st, and it’s the right thing to do.”

Wolffe glared at him again, then huffed out a “Fine” as they crossed the hangar.

Neyo got there first, just as Eren and Fitz were laughing again. “Something amusing?”

Fitz quickly came to attention and saluted. “No, sir.”

“No? Something must be funny. You were both laughing.”

Seeing Fitz’s pained expression, Eren held her hand out to the Marshal Commander with a bright smile. “Just one of my terrible jokes. I’m Eren. Nice to meet you.”

Neyo shook her hand. “Commander Kilyc. Wolffe didn’t tell me you were such a joker.”

“No, I think he’d rather keep that to himself. They’re pretty bad jokes.”

“Why don’t you try me?”

Wolffe interjected. “Give it a rest, Neyo. You’ve got better things to do than—”

“I like jokes,” Neyo insisted. “I’d like to hear it.”

Eren blinked at him. She felt intimidated by this man, and she was pretty sure he didn’t like jokes at all. He was testing her. He had a coldness about him that she hadn’t felt around other clones. And she could feel how uncomfortable Fitz and Wolffe were. But Neyo was watching her expectantly. “Umm…okay…why don’t skeletons fight?”

“I don’t know.”

“They don’t have the guts.”

To her right, she heard Fitz suppress a snigger. For some reason, this particular joke tickled him. The Marshal Commander’s face remained impassive; then he shook his head without even a hint of a smirk. “You’re right, that was bad.”

“I warned you.”

“Well, I hear you’re better with a lightsaber than you are at telling jokes, so we should be okay. Wolffe, let’s go find the generals.”

Wolffe threw an unreadable look at her over his shoulder as he followed Neyo from the hangar. As soon as they were out of sight, Fitz exhaled loudly and relaxed again. Eren stared at him, bewildered. “What was that?”

“Don’t ask me. Neyo’s a psycho. No one likes him. I don’t think Wolffe even likes him. It’s just a weird batchmate thing.”

“I don’t think he liked me.”

“Think of it as a badge of honour. He doesn’t like anyone.”

Eren shook her head at him. “I can’t believe you laughed at that joke.”

“Neither can I. I just kept imagining two skeletons duking it out fist to fist.”

“And that made it funny?”

“In my mind.”

Eren laughed as they wandered towards the lift to get something to eat in the mess. “You’re worse than me.”

In the wardroom, Neyo sat at the table, strong black caf in hand as he scrutinised his former batchmate. “So how do you do it?”

“How do I do what?”

“Put up with Little Miss Sunshine out there. I’d be ready to airlock her after about five minutes. Probably less.”

Wolffe sat for a moment, his face emotionless. He knew Neyo was baiting him. Trying to get a reaction. But he also knew that Neyo meant it. He was known for being taciturn, emotionally detached. Besides Wolffe, the only person who really tolerated him was Bacara, and that wasn’t saying much. Bacara wasn’t much better. Sometimes, he wondered why he bothered…why he still tried to connect with Neyo. Some perverse brotherly loyalty, probably. But right now, it was being challenged. But he didn’t want his brother to know he’d gotten under his skin. So, he took a long sip of his caf before answering. “Like I said before, they’re not letting you anywhere near a padawan.”

“And like I said before, that suits me just fine. Just expressing my sympathy. Why they think we have to babysit younglings is beyond me. This is an army, not a childcare facility.”

“She’s not a youngling.”

“Looks like one. Either way, it shouldn’t be up to us to teach them how to be grown-ups. We’re highly trained soldiers, not babysitters.”

Wolffe thought about all the things he could say to defend Kilyc. She wasn’t a child; she didn’t need babysitting. She was competent, effective and very protective of the men under her command. She was kind and humble and even funny in her own ridiculous way. But he wasn’t going to defend her to Neyo. It was a waste of time. Neyo had his opinion, and it was unlikely to change. “Speaking of babysitting, you still taking that pit droid everywhere?”

Neyo’s face remained cold and blank, but Wolffe knew he’d hit a nerve. The Marshal Commander stood and tossed the rest of his caf in the sink. “At least I can turn it off. You’re stuck with that padawan getting in the way and wasting everyone’s time until she gets herself or some of your men killed doing something stupid.”

Wolffe stood. Neyo had crossed that line as he so often did. But rather than say anymore, he grabbed his helmet and headed for the door. “See you next time.”

The door closed with a hiss behind him, and he looked up to see Eren standing there, clearly mortified at being caught. She took a step back from him, her face flushed. “Sorry…I was just…”

“Just what?”

“Looking for you. Master Plo’s ready to leave.”

“Right.” He looked back at the closed door, wondering how much she’d heard, if anything. Had she heard what Neyo said? Had she heard him not defending her? Now wasn’t the time to find out. They walked back along the corridor to get to the lift. “Where’s Fitz?”

“With Master Plo.”

Wolffe frowned. She was being short with him. Maybe she heard something. Nothing he could do about it now. Their ship was waiting to take them back to the Hand of Justice.

As the Hand travelled through hyperspace, Wolffe worked alone in the wardroom. He wasn’t usually alone. Kilyc was usually with him, working on tactical strategies while he supervised and gave her feedback. The rest of the ship was on a sleep cycle, and that’s when they usually both ended up there together. But not this time. They’d had a long stretch off the ship; she’d fought Grievous. She was probably actually sleeping. He glanced up when he heard footsteps in the corridor. Too heavy. Not her. It was Fitz who came into the wardroom, armor on as he was on duty. Fitz put his helmet down on the counter and grabbed two mugs. “Caf?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Fitz busied himself making caf. “Where’s Eren?”

“Commander Kilyc to you.”

Fitz gave a curious glance back over his shoulder. “Okay… Where’s Commander Kilyc?”

“I’ve got no idea. Sleeping, I suppose.”

“Hmm. What happened between you two?”

“What? What are you talking about? There’s nothing going on between us.”

Fitz plonked a mug of caf in front of his commander. “That’s not what I asked. But she’s been off since we dropped Gallia off. She barely said a word all the way back, and now she’s hiding in her cabin.”

“Then you already know where she is,” Wolffe said with an unimpressed look.

“So, what happened? She’s back there saying she shouldn’t have let Grievous get away…that if she was stronger and more experienced, she’d be more useful. She thinks she’s a burden, and I thought we’d moved past that.”

“She said that?” Wolffe was feeling uncomfortable now. It all sounded familiar.

“After some digging. It took a while to get her to talk.”

Feeling guilty about what Kilyc may or may not have heard Neyo say, Wolffe gave his lieutenant a steely look. “You’re getting too close to her. You spend too much time together.”

“You told me to,” Fitz said incredulously. “Your exact orders were to stick to her, keep her in sight, keep her out of your way and try and teach her something so she doesn’t get herself or anyone else killed.”

Wolffe gave up his façade and sat back with a frustrated huff. Fitz had been with him since they were first deployed. They knew each other’s tells. “Fuck. She must have heard Neyo.”

“Heard Neyo what?”

“You know what Neyo’s like. He was just being himself.”

“And what did you say?”

“Nothing. Arguing with Neyo is a waste of good oxygen. I’ve got better things to do, and he won’t ever change.”

“So, you’re telling me Eren overheard Neyo badmouthing her, and you not saying anything to defend her?”

“Maybe.” Wolffe grumbled something under his breath and shoved his datapad across the table to Fitz. “Finish these reports.”

He made his way to the accommodation wing and pressed the buzzer on her door, still trying to figure out what to say. But when she opened the door and he saw her face, suddenly, the words tumbled out. “I’m sorry.”

Eren looked up at him, confused. “Pardon?”

“I said…” He looked up and down the corridor. “Can I come in?”

She nodded and stepped back to let him in, surprised when he pressed the button to close the door. Wolffe looked at her for a moment. She was dressed for bed, but she’d answered the door quickly enough to know she hadn’t been sleeping. And she still looked confused as she waited for him to speak. He sat at the small desk in her cabin, waiting for her to sit on the bunk. “I came to apologise.”

“For what?”

“I know you heard what Neyo said about you, and I’m sorry.”

“Did Fitz rat me out?”

“I made him.”

“Wolffe, you don’t have to apologise for something someone else said.”

“I know. But I have to apologise for what I didn’t say. I didn’t defend you, and I know you heard that as well.”

“You don’t need to defend me either. I know I’m more of a burden than a help around here, but I’m—”

“That’s not true, and if you think that, you’re an idiot. Commander.”

Eren was even more confused now. “I—"

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you an idiot. Neyo’s the idiot. And nothing he said about you is true. None of it. And I should have stuck up for you, but it’s a waste of time. Neyo and I were batchmates. We were raised together, trained together…he’s always been like that.”

“Maybe some of what he said is true. I’m not like any of you.”

“No, you’re not. You’re not meant to be. But that doesn’t mean you don’t have a place here. You’re a part of the 104th whether you like it or not.”

Eren found herself suppressing a smile. Wolffe’s statement sounded more like a threat than a reassurance. “I do like it. I just don’t want to disappoint anyone. And I’d never do anything to make things more difficult or let any of you get hurt. Not deliberately.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? I saw you the day you arrived, and you were too scared to even look at me. But I’ve seen how hard you’ve worked. I see the way you protect my men. We’ll make a soldier of you yet.”

“I’m supposed to be a peacekeeper.”

“So you keep saying. But here you are fighting in a war. Maybe it’s time the Jedi Order rethought their stance.”

“Maybe…temporarily.” She rearranged herself on the bunk so she was sitting cross-legged. “Why are you here apologising for your brother?”

“Because you weren’t meant to hear what he said. He judged you without knowing a thing about you.”

“Other than how hilarious I am.”

“Other than that,” Wolffe agreed, folding his arms across his chest to try and distract himself from smiling. She had a way of getting under his skin that was starting to trouble him. He wasn’t used to people making him want to smile. “Maybe some of that judgement was deserved, after all.”

“Oh, it definitely was. But he insisted on hearing the joke.”

“He did. He got what was coming to him.”

“So, really,” Eren mused, “you didn’t need to apologise for him. He’s already been punished.”

“I guess you could see it like that.” He stood and went to the door. “I’ll go and let you get some sleep.”

“You know I probably won’t.”

“I know. Goodnight, kid.”

“Night, Wolffe.” The door hissed open, and he stepped out, but she grabbed his arm. “Wolffe…thank you.”

“For what?”

“For telling me. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You don’t. You never have.” As he walked back down to the lift, he thought about that. His opinion of her shouldn’t be important. She should care about the opinion of General Plo and the rest of the Jedi. Not him. He was a clone who was just a fleeting presence in her life.

Eren stood beside Master Plo – a respectful half-step behind him. She was with a cluster of Jedi gathered around a holochart to determine the best course of action to track Grievous. Master Yoda and Master Windu were both there, as were Master Kenobi and Master Skywalker. Ahsoka Tano was there, too, standing beside her master. Beyond Ahsoka and her master stood the clone officers – Commander Cody, Captain Rex, and Wolffe. The three men had their helmets off and stood respectfully at parade rest, observing quietly until their input was required or requested. She found herself distracted by the men, still surprised at how different they all were despite their similarities. Wolffe’s eyes met hers, and she quickly averted her gaze, focusing her attention back on the chart.

“Unwise you were, to try and fight Grievous,” Master Yoda said, glancing up at her. “But surprised, I am not. Like your former master, you are.”

Eren bowed her head, shamed. “I’m sorry, Master Yoda. I made the wrong choice. I didn’t want him to get away.”

The wizened Jedi said nothing but nodded sagely as they studied the chart. “No clues, have we.”

Embarrassed and ashamed, Eren shrunk further back behind her master. She should have done better. But she hadn’t. She stared down at the floor, eyes fixed on the scuffed toes of her boots as the senior Jedi discussed a plan. When she looked up, Wolffe was watching her, a frown on his face. That wasn’t unusual. He often had a frown on his face, especially at briefings. But then he mouthed something to her – silently. He was making sure he enunciated clearly so she would understand. What did one wall say to the other wall?

Eren gave him a confused look, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed the interaction. But no one had. So, she gave a small shrug, waiting expectantly for Wolffe’s response. I’ll meet you at the corner. Eren stared at him for a beat, bewildered, then she bit her lip to stifle the giggle that threatened. Wolffe’s expression remained impassive, but she saw the glint of humour in his human eye. He was trying to make her laugh. She clenched her hands into fists, trying to maintain her composure in the serious briefing. When she glanced up again, she saw Captain Rex looking at her with a curious frown, and that was enough for her to take a deep breath and pull herself together. Even by her standards, Wolffe’s joke had been terrible, but he’d taken her by surprise by breaking his own briefing protocol. She offered Rex a brief nod, worried when he glanced between her and Wolffe, but Wolffe was unflinchingly calm and composed. Shaking his head, Rex shrugged and turned his attention back to the briefing, and Eren relaxed again. She looked briefly back up at Wolffe, and this time, there was a hint of a sly smirk on his face. She tried to scowl at him before giving up and looking back down at her boots to hide her smile. Sometimes, Wolffe surprised her.

Chapter Text

Eren looked around excitedly as she stepped off the shuttle. Someone was here to meet her, and she’d been looking forward to it for days. Forgetting about the troopers piling out of other ships around her, she scanned the crowd until she finally saw who she was looking for. “Rak’hin!”

The Zabrak padawan looked around with a frown, looking for the source of the voice until he finally saw her waving from the sea of armored bodies. Eren was on him then, flinging her arms around him. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“You saw me two months ago.”

“That was a holocall. It doesn’t count.” She held onto him despite Rak’hin’s attempts to put her down. “Are you here long?”

“Two more days,” Rak’hin said, finally able to extricate himself from Eren and put her down. “What about you?”

“Three days. A furlough for the men. Shore leave.”

Rak’hin slung an arm around her shoulders as they made their way from the fleet platform. “You sound like a proper naval officer now. Furlough?”

“I spend a lot of time with Admiral Barton. He’s a good teacher. When are they going to assign you and Master Tiin to a clone battalion?”

“No idea. We do a lot of intelligence missions. Small-scale stuff. Diplomacy too. What’s it like fighting with the military?”

Eren looked back at the 104th, still piling out of shuttles, excited by the impending shore leave. “It’s different. I’ve learned more since I joined them than I thought was possible.”

“They treating you okay?”

“Of course they are! They love my jokes.”

“Eren, no one loves your jokes.”

“Well, maybe they’re just a captive audience. You got a speeder?”

“Sure did. Let’s get you back to the Temple so we can catch up.”

Across the platform, Wolffe watched the pair leave. He didn’t know who the man was. A padawan, obviously, but beyond that, he had nothing. He and Eren were obviously very close, and Wolffe was worried about how uncomfortable that made him feel. He didn’t like seeing the Zabrak man’s arms around her. He didn’t like the way she embraced him. And he didn’t like the way it made him feel. He wanted to follow them and pull them apart. He watched until they disappeared from sight, then he pulled his helmet off and mentally kicked himself. He was well out of line thinking like that. He turned to glare at whoever tapped him on the shoulder, but it was only Fitz. “Who was that?”

“Who was who?”

“The Jedi with Commander Kilyc.”

“How should I know?” Wolffe was annoyed now, but at least he hadn’t been the only one watching. “Some padawan…”

Fitz shrugged good-naturedly. “I guess they don’t get to see each other – spread out all over the galaxy. They must grow up in groups like us. Maybe she’s got some weird thing going on like you and Neyo, only no one could be as much of an –”

“Alright, that’s enough, Lieutenant. Why are you still here?”

“Waiting to be dismissed, sir. That’s your job.”

“Then you’re dismissed,” Wolffe grumbled. “Get out of here.”

But Fitz didn’t leave. He pulled his own helmet off. “You about done here?”

“Why?”

“We can share a ride to barracks. You hitting 79’s tonight?”

“Maybe. I could use a drink.”

“Yeah, me too. I’ll buy you one.”

Wolffe snorted as they made their way to the transports to take them to base. Clones didn’t buy drinks. They didn’t buy anything. But they had access to the cheap stuff at 79’s courtesy of the GAR. It wasn’t much, but it was something. He glanced over at Fitz. “I’ll take a bottle of the Corellian Reserve. With one glass.”

Fitz laughed, slapping his commander’s back as they walked. “This is what happens when you take too many knocks to the head, Wolffe. You get delusional. You start thinking you’re just like a regular human.”

“Are you saying I’m not?”

“What do you think? Made in a tube, created to fight and die. Cheap alcohol of dubious origin for you and me.”

Wolffe grunted his agreement as they climbed aboard a transport. “Yeah, and don’t forget to be grateful.” Fitz was right. They weren’t like regular people, and they never would be. They were clones. They had no rights, no money… All they had was each other…their brothers. It did no good to want more because you could never have it. He glanced out the side hatch to where he’d seen Eren disappear with her Padawan friend. He definitely couldn’t have what he wanted.

Eren looked around the diner Rak’hin had taken her to. It was noisy and busy, and bustling with life. She grinned at him as they found a table. “Regular haunt of yours?”

Rak’hin shook his head. “Unfortunately not. But the food here is good. Nadar and I came here not long before…” He trailed off as they both remembered Nadar Vebb. They’d all been close friends. Allies. Comrades in their training.

Eren smiled sadly as she scanned the menu. “We should make a night of it then. For Nadar.”

“Agreed.” Rak’hin studied her thoughtfully. “So, what’s it like? Commanding clones?”

Eren shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t really command them. They know what they’re doing more than I do. I just try and do as much as I can to help…to try and keep them safe. Wolffe has a lot more—”

“Wolffe?”

“Commander Wolffe. Technically, we share command, but he’s the expert. I just try and follow his lead and learn what I can.”

“What’s he like?”

“Like?”

Rak’hin shrugged. “They’re all different, aren’t they? I’m interested.”

Eren thought for a moment as she swirled the straw in her fizzade. “They are all different. I feel like I suddenly have a lot of brothers. I spend a lot of time with Lieutenant Fitz. He’s been my mentor. Fitz is funny and kind…a good soldier. And he shadows me everywhere because he thinks he owes me his life.”

“Does he?”

“Well…you know how it is, Rak’hin. You just do what needs doing.”

“I know how it is. But maybe that means something different to Lieutenant Fitz.”

“I’m glad he shadows me,” she said with a smile. “He’s a good friend and someone I can lean on. Especially when Master Plo isn’t around.”

“And Wolffe? What’s the commander like?”

This was harder to answer. “He’s…difficult to know. He’s gruff and a bit prickly. But he’s a good man. He’s a good commander. He’s taught me a lot, and he’s—”

“He’s someone you care a lot about?”

Eren blinked, almost snorting fizzade out her nose. “What? What do you mean?”

“Eren, your whole demeanour changed when you talked about him. He’s important to you.”

“Well…no more important than any of the other clones.”

Rak’hin looked disbelievingly at her. “I’ve known you forever, Eren. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. It’s just…well, maybe it’s a little crush. But it doesn’t mean anything! And you can’t tell anyone!”

Rak’hin sat back and regarded his old friend. “It seems like it’s a very bad idea to have a crush on a clone officer in your battalion.”

“Yes, no kidding.” She sat back with a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know what to do, Rak. I’m supposed to follow the Jedi code. No attachment! But I’ve already done stupid things because of him. I tried to fight Asajj Ventress!”

“You did what?”

“She attacked him. He lost an eye because of it.”

“Oh boy, you’ve got it bad.”

Eren gave him a dejected look. “I’ll be okay. I just have to deal with it like a grown-up. And I try and keep my distance when I can. I’ll get over it.”

Rak’hin wasn’t convinced. “What would you do, though? If you weren’t part of the Order, and he wasn’t a clone?”

“Well, that’s academic, isn’t it? Nothing’s going to happen, Rak, and I wish I’d never told you.”

Rak raised an unimpressed eyebrow at her. “Better to tell someone rather than keep it bottled up inside, torturing yourself. Now I can torture you instead.”

“That’s not very ‘Jedi’ of you. You’re supposed to be my friend.”

“I am. Maybe tomorrow we can meditate for a while…work through some thoughts.”

“Maybe…” She sat back as the server droid delivered their oversized bantha burgers. “But tonight, I just want to have some fun and forget about it all for a while.”

Two hours later, Eren was dragging Rak’hin through the clones carousing out the front of 79’s, battling their way to the door. “Trust me, you’ll have fun! And you’ll get to meet some troopers.”

Inside, music was pumping, and the dancefloor was already crowded, even though it was still early. She grabbed Rak’s hand, keeping hold of him as she shoved her way to the bar. “Two of those green drinks in the big glass, please.”

The bartender gave her a look up and down. “You old enough to be in here, kid?”

Eren stood for a moment, not knowing what to do. The Wolf Pack had supplied the drinks last time. “I’m old enough.”

“Gonna need to see some ID.”

“I’m a Jedi. I don’t have ID.”

The bartender was growing frustrated with her. “No ID, no drink. Now get out of here.”

“She’s old enough,” came a voice behind her, and she was relieved to see Grim materialise beside her. “I’m a medic. I’ll vouch for her.”

The bartender grumbled something under his breath as he turned to prepare the drinks.

Eren grinned at her medic. “Thanks, Grim. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I’ll tell you what you are going to do, young lady. You’re going to stop drinking well before you get wasted, like last time. I don’t want to hear about Wolffe having to sober you up in his quarters and sneak you back into the Temple again.”

Eren looked down at the floor, wishing it would open up and swallow her whole. “Believe me, Grim, I don’t want to get that drunk again either.” She grabbed Rak’s arm and hauled him closer. “This is my friend, Rak’hin. Rak, this is Grim, our chief medic. Rak is Master Tiin’s padawan, and they don’t work with a battalion. So, he’s not around clones much.”

Grim eyed the Zabrak padawan up and down. “Well, we’re just like regular folks, only we can handle our booze better than some.” With a final pointed look at Eren, the medic melted back into the crowd.

Mortified, Eren glanced over at her friend. “See, they love me…”

Rak’hin laughed as he followed her to a booth away from the dancefloor. “I’m going to need to hear more about Commander Wolffe sobering you up in his room and sneaking you back home. You seem to have left that bit out when you told me about him.”

“Because it’s hideously embarrassing, and I’d rather forget about it! Just pretend you never heard it.”

Rak snorted. “You’re in a lot deeper than I thought.”

A couple of hours and several drinks later, Eren spotted someone she knew across the bar and stood up to wave. “Fitz! Over here!”

The lieutenant came to join them, eyeing Eren’s companion curiously. “Commander, didn’t think we’d see you back here again after last time.”

“Yes, well…I’m being more responsible this time. Fitz, this is my friend, Rak’hin. Rak, this is Lieutenant Fitz. I’d be lost without him.”

“I’ve heard all about you,” Rak said with a grin, shaking hands with the clone officer. “Join us?”

“Sure, why not? I lost Wolffe after we came in.”

“Wolffe’s here?”

“Somewhere. Probably holed up in a corner with a bottle of cheap whisky. That’s his version of relaxation.”

“Oh…” Eren tried not to peer around the venue for Wolffe. She didn’t need yet another reminder of her shameful previous visit. “Buy you a drink, Fitz? The bartender doesn’t believe I’m an adult, but if you come along…”

Fitz snorted and got up to follow her to the bar. “Chaperone duty, huh?”

“It’s not fair,” she argued. “I can’t help the way I look.”

Fitz just laughed as he looked around at all the identical faces. “I didn’t get much say in it either.”

“Oh, fuck. Sorry…”

Wolffe took another sip of the rough whisky and sat back. It was vile stuff, but at least he was beginning to feel relaxed. Fitz had disappeared somewhere, so he was on his own. That wasn’t a bad thing. He wasn’t here to socialize. He was here to get a little drunk and relax for a night, and he was halfway there. But any semblance of relaxation was gone when he happened to look over at the dancefloor. Eren was there. Commander Kilyc. And she was dancing with the Zabrak man he’d seen her with earlier that day. They were laughing. Having fun. They were close, touching a lot. She was a better dancer when she wasn’t falling down drunk. Some of his men were there as well. Warthog and Comet. But he wasn’t interested in them right now. His grip on the glass became tighter as he watched the couple dancing. She was a padawan; she wasn’t supposed to have personal attachments. But it was more than that. He didn’t want her to have personal attachments. He wanted her to be his. Fuck. Angry at himself for his own feelings, he poured another glass of the booze that was barely better than the rotgut he sometimes caught his men brewing and pretended not to notice. The bottle was empty, but his glass was only half-full, so he shoved troopers out of the way to get to the bar. He acquired another bottle and turned to go back to his table, slamming headfirst into Eren. He took a moment to glare down at her, then blurted out, “What the hell are you doing?”

Eren looked up at him, shocked by his tone. “Sorry, I…I didn’t see you there…”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about your performance out on the dancefloor. Are you drunk again?” He wished he could take the words back as soon as they left his mouth. She looked like an akk dog that had just been kicked. He’d done that. He’d kicked her. Metaphorically.

She took several steps back from him, looking at him as though she was scared of him. “I’m not drunk. I’m just having fun…spending time with a friend.”

“A friend? Looked like more than that to me.” Wolffe knew he needed to shut up, but he was just drunk enough to verbalize his ridiculous thoughts. And he was hurting her. But hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do. He opened his mouth to try and get some semblance of an apology out, but she was already gone, turning on her heel and melting into the crowd. Swearing under his breath, he shoved his way back to the table he’d occupied. He'd have to deal with it all later because chasing after her and having it out in 79’s wasn’t going to play well.

Eren sat back in the booth with Rak’hin. Fitz had gone to talk to someone else, and it was just the two of them again. Rak eyed her worriedly. “Okay? You look like you’re waiting to go into sparring training with Master Yoda.”

Eren tried to smile at his joke. “That bad?”

“Pretty bad. Did something happen?”

“No. Just tired, I guess.”

Rak downed his drink. “Shall we head back to the Temple then? Hit the sack.”

“Yeah, just let me visit the fresher.” She slipped out of the booth and weaved her way through the crowd until she reached the corridor that led to the freshers. It was darker down there. Quieter. So, she paused and took a long, slow, calming breath. Wolffe was angry at her, and she didn’t even know why. Dancing? That didn’t seem like much of a reason. Drinking, maybe, especially after the last time. But she wasn’t drunk this time. She’d had one drink several hours earlier. She couldn’t be more sober. Whatever had made him angry, she couldn’t deal with it now. It would have to wait until they were back on the cruiser. Still agitated, she made her way to the ladies', her eyes going wide in the darkened corridor at the sight around the corner. Wolffe was there. But he wasn’t alone. There was a woman with him. A civilian. Even in the dark, Eren could see the woman was attractive – tall and blonde, in a tight-fitting dress and high heels. And Wolffe’s hands were on her. He was leaning in, whispering in her ear. Then he looked up, and his eyes met Eren’s in the dark passage. She saw the way the dim light bounced off his pale cybernetic eye. It was definitely him. Feeling suddenly nauseous, she backed out of the corridor and quickly shoved her way back to Rak’hin. “Let’s get out of here.”

“That was quick.”

“Long line,” Eren offered, looking worriedly back to the corridor. She didn’t want to see them leaving together. She wasn’t as naïve as people seemed to think. She knew what soldiers on leave got up to. They were men who had a right to some fun. And it didn’t bother her. Only it did bother her because this time, it was Wolffe.

Back at the Temple, she and Rak’hin slipped quietly in through a side door, trying not to call attention to themselves as they made their way down to the accommodation quarters. Rak’hin put his arm around her shoulders as they walked. “You sure you’re okay? Want to talk?”

They’d reached her door now, and Eren was still trying to process her own feelings about what had happened at 79’s. She pressed closer to Rak. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other. “I don’t think I want to talk.”

Rak’hin stared at her for a beat, then understanding dawned in his eyes. “We agreed after the last time that it would be the last time.”

“I know. It’s okay if you don’t want to—”

But Rak’hin was already opening her door and pushing her inside. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to.” He pulled her close and kissed her as they scrabbled at each other’s clothing. “No attachment?”

Eren nodded, sighing breathlessly as Rak’s hands found bare skin. “No attachment…”

Chapter Text

“So, what should I do?” Eren was sitting in the rooftop garden of the Jedi Temple, making a feeble attempt at meditation.

Rak’hin was sitting beside her, and he cracked an eye open to frown at her. “About what?”

“You know what.”

Rak’hin sighed and opened his eyes. “I don’t remember meditation having so much talking.”

“Oh, come on, Rak. You’re supposed to be my friend.”

“After last night?”

“Oh, shut up,” she scolded, whacking his arm. “I have to go back onto the ship today and face him. And I have to work with him. And I just keep embarrassing mys—”

“Eren, stop and take a breath. You said it yourself; it’s just a crush. It’ll pass. As padawans, we just have to find a way of managing this stuff. I guess as we get older…more experienced, finding a way of balancing those emotions will get easier. We’re still learning.”

“I know…”

“You and I manage to have the friendship we have and keep it…manageable.”

“But this is different.” It was so different. And Rak’hin didn’t know what had happened at 79’s the night before. He didn’t know about the way Wolffe had snapped at her or about the blonde woman.

“I know. And all I can suggest is to keep doing what you’re doing. Keep some distance…some space. Keep things professional.”

Eren thought about the time she spent with Wolffe outside of battle – the late nights in the wardroom that often led to napping, the tactical planning they did together, the way he rolled his eyes at her jokes. The way he mouthed things at her in briefings, trying to see if she could lipread what he was saying. Ridiculous things that had her stifling giggles. That would all have to stop. “Yeah, you’re right.” She checked her chrono and stood. “I’d better go and get my gear. Being late for my transport won’t go down well.” She bent to hug her friend. “Thanks for the advice, Rak. I’ll see you soon.”

As she made her way down to her room, she couldn’t get the image of Wolffe with the blonde out of her mind. It was as though it were burned into her memory. And it made her feel hurt and angry. Betrayed. But she had no right to feel that way. Wolffe was entitled to do whatever he wanted with his leave. The men got precious little freedom as it was. Maybe she was more hurt by the way he’d spoken to her. The way he’d looked at her. He’d looked at her the way he had when she’d first joined the 104th – as a problem.

Wolffe was already on the bridge when Eren arrived. He watched her as she went to greet Coburn, getting a rare smile from the taciturn admiral. Coburn was fond of her, almost in a fatherly way. He could understand why. Eren was polite and respectful and always willing and eager to learn from the experienced officer. But she was heading towards him now, so he straightened up to greet her. “Commander Kilyc.”

“Commander Wolffe.”

Wolffe froze. She was calling him Commander, and she wasn’t even making eye contact with him. She was angry with him. He’d fucked up badly. He’d treated her like she’d done something wrong when all she’d done was dance with a friend. He’d reacted badly. He thought about the blonde he’d spent the night with. He didn’t even know her name. Yes, he’d reacted badly. And now Eren couldn’t even look at him. He looked back at the screen in front of him. “Everyone should be back on board within the next thirty minutes, then we’ll be on our way.”

“Fine. I’ll be in my cabin if you—”

“Can we talk?”

“We’ll have a briefing when Master Plo’s aboard.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

She looked at him then, and instead of the hurt or anger he expected to see there, he saw nothing. She looked utterly calm and unemotional. Jedi serenity. “What did you mean then?”

Wolffe sighed, trying not to roll his eyes. Apologising didn’t get any easier, even though it felt as though he was getting plenty of practice at it. “I apologise for last night. I had too much to drink, and—”

“Oh, you had too much to drink? I thought that was me.”

Wolffe looked around the bridge to make sure no one was looking before he leaned closer. “Look, I’m trying to say I’m sorry for that. It was out of line and—”

“I don’t want your apologies,” Eren hissed, equally mindful of the men around them. “You had no right to talk to me like that.”

This time, some of the bridge engineers were looking at them curiously, so he pointed her towards the door. “Wardroom. Now.”

Eren scowled at him but followed him to the wardroom, where she folded her arms across her chest. “What?”

“I’ve said I’m sorry, and I mean it. Now we still have to work together, so—”

“You accused me of being drunk and…and…whatever it was you were accusing me of doing with my friend, and—”

“Well, what do you want me to say? I said I’m sorry!”

“Well, maybe sorry isn’t good enough! I’ve known Rak’hin my whole life, and whatever my relationship is with him, it’s none of your business!”

Wolffe was growing frustrated with her now. “What relationship? You’re a Jedi. You’re not supposed to have relationships.”

“Well…well…you’re not a Jedi! What would you know?”

He looked at her long and hard, so long that she began to squirm under his penetrating gaze. “I knew it.”

“You knew what? What is it you think you know, Wolffe?”

“You and that Zabrak. I was right, wasn’t I?”

Eren took a few deep breaths, but they didn’t help her calm down. “My private life is none of your business! Just like your private life is none of my business! Otherwise, we’d be talking about that…that woman I saw you with!”

Wolffe stared at her for a moment. He hadn’t expected her to lash out at him about that. She was right; it was none of her business. But he wanted to know why it bothered her so much. “Look, kid—”

“Stop calling me kid! I’m not a child!” With that, she shoved past him and stormed off towards her cabin.

Without thinking, Wolffe followed her and grabbed her arm to stop her. “We need to sort this out. We’re fighting in a war, Eren; we can’t do that if we’re fighting like this.”

She finally stopped and looked up at him. Maybe using her actual name had been what stopped her. But now the hurt was showing. She couldn’t really do cool and detached for very long. She swallowed visibly, then nodded. “Fine. You’re right. We have to be professional. Private lives and feelings have no place here. So, let’s keep it that way.”

Wolffe watched her walk away, her shoulders slumped. That wasn’t the outcome he’d wanted. He wanted to say sorry and have them go back to the way they were. He didn’t want to change the relationship they had to a wholly professional one. He still wanted her to spend long nights in the wardroom with him, strategizing over battle plans. He still wanted her to tell him her terrible jokes to try and make him laugh. He still wanted to mouth things to her in briefings to test her lipreading skills and try and make her crack. He still wanted to wake up and find her leaning against him, fast asleep with a holomap illuminating her face. He always slept better with her beside him. She was a bright light in his otherwise grey world, and he didn’t want to lose that. But he had.

Eren stood beside Master Plo, assessing the situation on the rocky cliffs of Pasaana. Wolffe came to join them. “Everything’s unloaded, sir. Ready to move on your order.”

“Very good, Wolffe. Eren, you and Wolffe take several squads to scout ahead and—”

“I can do that alone,” Eren interrupted. “I don’t need anyone to go with me.”

Plo glanced over at her, concerned by her tone. “I would prefer you to have someone with you.”

“Fine, I’ll take Fitz and a squad.”

Wolffe looked back at their staging areas, trying to take the focus off Eren. He knew why she didn’t want him with her. “I’ll bring up the tanks, sir.”

Once Wolffe was out of earshot, Plo looked at his padawan. Something was off, and it didn’t take Jedi's senses to see it. “Is something troubling you, Eren? You seem uneasy.”

“No, nothing I can’t handle, Master Plo.” She looked back to see Fitz heading towards her with a small squad. “Trust me, I have my mind solely on the job we have to do here.”

Two hours later, they were in the thick of it, fighting on the surface and in the air. Eren was in a cluster of battle droids, lightsaber spinning as she rapidly took them down. Her peripheral vision was on the action around her, trying to keep an eye on the troopers around her while she helped them hold off the droids. Fitz caught her glancing around. “Looks like we’ve about got them turned back, ma’am.”

“For now. If they—” She was cut off by a cry overhead and saw one of their gunships had been hit on its way down to drop more troops on the ground. Horrified, she saw one of the men tumble out of the open hatch. Acting on instinct, she thumbed off one of her blades to operate it single-handed, stretching her free hand up to use the Force to cushion the trooper’s landing. She almost dropped him as a blaster bolt singed the vambrace on her left arm, hitting her comlink. She swore loudly, fending off the droids with one hand while the other lowered the trooper safely to the ground.

He was on his feet in an instant, running to help her. “Thanks, Commander!”

“Anytime…”

Across the planet’s rocky surface, Wolffe happened to look up and see one of his men floating in mid-air. His eyes trailed down to see Eren swinging her lightsaber with one hand while she lowered the trooper to the ground with the other. He shook his head. The Force was a mysterious thing, and Eren still managed to impress him with how she used it. He froze, though, when he heard an unmistakable high-pitched whistle. “Missiles! Everyone down!”

He threw himself down, raising his head to see the missile land in the trees nearby, thankfully missing his men. He jumped to his feet and started running. “We need to take down those missile launchers!”

General Plo was running ahead of him with the same objective in mind. Missile launchers could do a lot of damage if their aim was right, and they needed to be disarmed or destroyed. He tapped the side of his helmet as he ran. “Comet, get those tanks in here!”

“Copy that, sir!”

He felt the ground rumble beneath his feet as the tanks turned to move in on the missile launchers. The rocky cliffs they were fighting on were solid, but the tanks were heavy and always made their presence known. He pulled his ground troops aside to give the tanks the space they needed to start firing on the droid fortifications. “Fitz, where are you?”

“Out on the northeast outcrop. Not much left to tidy up here.”

“Good. You got Kilyc in sight?”

“Not right now. She was heading out to help Sinker and his squads when I last saw her.”

Wolffe looked around. He couldn’t see her anywhere, and that always made him uneasy. He also knew she’d be angry with him if she knew he felt that way. She’d be angry if she knew he always tried to keep her in his sights. She’d think he was treating her like a child and not having faith in her ability. But it wasn’t about that. Seeing that General Plo had things under control for now, he ran to where Sinker had been posted, ducking as another missile sailed overhead. It exploded as it hit the ground ahead of him, and when the dust settled, he saw her. She was ploughing through a small squad of B-2 droids without too much trouble, but she was worryingly close to the edge of the cliff. Too close for his liking. He tapped the button on his helmet to open his comm. “Commander Kilyc, you need to get back from the edge!”

But there was no answer, and he saw she hadn’t even heard him. He broke into a run, desperate to reach her before the droids backed her too far. But a high-pitched whistle from below signalled missiles being fired from beneath the cliff, and he saw the ground begin to give way beneath her. He was sprinting now, almost there. “Eren!”

She turned and saw him just as the edge of the cliff disintegrated into rubble, and she was falling. But he had her. He’d reached her in time. Now they were both falling, but he had her in his arms, and he could try and use his armored body to protect her. They landed hard, and he felt the air knocked out of him as the view through his visor became nothing but a blur of dust. He grimaced, bracing himself as rocks and stones rained down on his back, weighing him down. Then everything went quiet. Dark. He took a moment to get his bearings, then he remembered. Eren. She was beneath him, still wrapped tightly in his arms. He was crushing her. He quickly tried to lift himself off her, only to find himself weighed down by rubble. He tried again, this time with more effort, until he was able to shift the weight on his back, feeling the dirt and rocks slide away slightly. He used the eye control to activate his spotlight, looking down to see her dirt-covered face. She was alive, though, his HUD picking up her pulse in its lifeform sensor. He looked around, swearing under his breath. They were trapped in a small cavity made by the falling cliff edge, with just enough room for him to be able to sit upright. Using his feet, he pushed at the debris, shoving it out of the way to try and make more space. Once he could move, he pulled a glove off to check her pulse properly. It was strong and regular. Hopefully, she was just stunned and would come around soon.

Moving gingerly, trying to ignore the pain in his own body, he managed to sit up and use his comlink to reach the open channel. “This is Commander Wolffe. Anyone read me?”

He was relieved to hear his general’s voice respond. “Wolffe, are you alright? What about Eren?”

“I’m okay, sir. Commander Kilyc’s unconscious, but her vitals are good. We’re pretty well trapped, though.”

“Half the cliff went down,” Plo confirmed. “Our tanks have taken care of things up here. I’ll get squads down there as soon as I can to dig you out. Hold tight.”

“Copy that, sir.” Hold tight. As if they were going anywhere. He looked back down at Eren. He could use a medscanner about now. He couldn’t tell if she had any significant injuries. He checked her pulse again. Still strong. That was good. He took her hand in his, keeping his fingers resting against the beat he could feel in her wrist. There wasn’t much else he could do for now. Within a few minutes, though, he felt her hand move, her fingers twitch. She opened her eyes, blinking several times, squinting as dust immediately infiltrated. Wolffe squeezed her fingers. “Take it easy, Eren.”

“Wolffe? What happened.”

He tried to think of how best to answer that. Direct was always best. “The cliff fell on us, and we’re trapped.”

“Oh…”

“They’ll dig us out as soon as they can.” She tried to sit up, but he stopped her. “You should stay still; you could be injured.”

“I’m not. I’m okay. I don’t know how, but I am.”

“I think I knocked you out when I landed on you. I figured my armor could take the hammering.”

“You…” She was frowning at him as though remembering. “You grabbed me as we went over.”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.” She was staring at him now, and he realised his spotlight was shining right in her face. He tried to tilt it to one side, and then he could properly see the way she was looking at him. Something he hadn’t seen before. “Wolffe, I…” She winced as she tried to find a comfortable way to sit in the tiny space, unavoidably pressed against his body. “I…things have been weird lately, haven’t they?”

“Weird?”

“Weird. Between you and me.”

He knew what she was getting at, but now wasn’t the time. “Commander, we should—”

“You called me Eren before.”

“I know. And I shouldn’t have.”

“Why?”

This was harder than he thought it would be. He pulled his helmet off, cursing when it triggered another fall of dust and gravel. “Because it makes it feel as though this is something it isn’t. It’s too personal. It—”

“I like it when you use my name.”

He looked down at her. Her face was so close to his, her eyes finding his in the barely-there glow his spotlight provided. He used his bare hand to wipe some of the dirt from her face, his fingers lingering there as he bent to brush his lips against hers. It might get him court-martialled or worse, but maybe it would be worth it. To his astonishment, she kissed him back, and he closed his eyes, cherishing the moment. But then he realised what he was doing. He tried to pull away, but she held onto him, somehow getting a hand around his neck in the cramped space. When they eventually parted, he brushed some more dust from her cheek. “You taste like dirt.”

She managed a small smile. “Sorry.”

He sighed heavily as he looked at her. He’d thought about this a lot, although it had never occurred to him that she might reciprocate. But she had. He sighed again, his hand still resting against her face. “We can’t do this.”

Her voice was soft when she answered. “I know.”

He reluctantly removed his hand and tried to move away. But there was nowhere to move to. They were stuck. And Eren was wincing as she prodded behind her. “I’ve got a big corner of something digging in…”

Assessing the space, Wolffe rearranged himself as best he could before half-dragging, half-lifting her so she was sitting between his legs and able to lean back against him. Plastoid wasn’t particularly soft, but it had to be better than stone. He could give her that, at least. She seemed content with that, resting her head back against his chest. This was the closest they’d ever been, and he knew it would all be over soon. He fidgeted to find somewhere to put his hands, and seeing his dilemma, Eren grabbed them and pulled them over so they were resting on her stomach. It made sense. They took up less space that way. What made less sense was when she laid her own hands over his, keeping him there. Neither of them spoke for a while, both occupied with their thoughts. Her head was resting just below his chin, and he could see just how covered in dirt she was from their fall. She shifted slightly, and he quickly moved his hands, worried she’d suddenly realised what she was actually doing. But instead, she just turned her head slightly, tucking it further into his neck. He was uncomfortable, hurting, and too hot in the cramped hole, but there was nowhere else he’d rather be right now. When she finally spoke, he had to shake himself from his reverie. “I could probably shift some of this off us.”

But Wolffe shook his head. “We don’t know how stable things are out there. The boys will dig us out when they get down here.”

“Okay.” She was silent for a moment, and then he felt her tense under his hands. “Fuck! My lightsaber.”

Fuck indeed. A quick scan told him it wasn’t anywhere in their tiny hole. “We’ll find it once we’re out of here. Don’t worry.”

“Okay…”

She settled back into him, almost relaxed despite their potentially dire situation, until their tranquil interlude was interrupted by Wolffe’s comlink. “Wolffe, we are not far away from you. Try and protect yourselves from the loose rubble.”

“Copy that, General.”

Back to business, then. He managed to get his helmet back on but kept Eren held close to him as the sounds of digging and voices started to reach them. Then, the sound of a tank dragging heavy debris away. Dirt and small rocks began to rain down on them, so he turned his body, trying to keep her below him so his armor could take the brunt. His arms were still wrapped around her, trying to cover as much of her as he could with his own body as the heavier debris began to crumble around them, and then there was a shaft of light. “Hold it!” he yelled out. “You got us. Go slow.”

The men switched to manual digging with shovels, and then a head popped through the opening. Fitz. The lieutenant did a quick assessment of the situation, seeing his two commanders curled tightly together in the tiny cavity. “Well, you two look pretty cozy in there. Want me to bring you some caf and cookies?”

Eren managed to twist her head around, spitting dirt out of her mouth. “Oh, shut up and get us out of here!”

Chapter Text

Wolffe sat on a bunk in the medbay back on the Hand of Justice. He watched as Grim bustled around gathering up supplies, muttering to himself as he did so. He stopped in front of Wolffe and gave him an expectant look. “Well?”

Wolffe gave him an unimpressed look. “Well, what?”

“I’m a good medic, Commander, but I’m not good enough to treat you through your armor.”

Wolffe glared at the medic but did as he was told and removed his arm and torso armor, trying not to wince as his body reminded him of the fall he’d taken. He didn’t look over at the other bed. Eren was sitting there, and he could feel her eyes on him. They hadn’t spoken since they’d been pulled out, and he knew things were going to be incredibly uncomfortable and awkward. If this was a normal army, he could request a transfer. But this wasn’t a normal army. He’d briefly contemplated putting a request through to Cody – he had more authority than any other clone – but then he’d have to explain why. And no one could know what had happened between him and Eren. No one. He looked up to see Grim was giving him one of his grimmest expressions. “Now what?

“Bodysuit as well, Commander. Or are you feeling shy?”

Wolffe glared harder at his medic as he eased the top of his bodysuit off. “I’m feeling sick of your attitude.”

“Well, tell someone who cares.” Grim looked utterly disinterested as he set about checking the bruising and swelling on Wolffe’s torso. There was a jagged cut where a sharp piece of rubble had pierced the suit, so Grim pulled it together with suture strips and covered it with a bacta dressing. “Anything else? Legs?”

“My legs are fine,” Wolffe said quickly. Too quickly. He wasn’t planning to undress completely, with Eren sitting right there.

He started to pull his bodysuit back on, but Grim stopped him with a look. “Did I say you could do that?”

Wolffe opened his mouth to retort when he heard Eren trying to stifle a giggle. But before he could say anything, Grim was turning on the padawan. “I don’t know what you’re laughing at, young lady. You’re next.”

Chastened, Eren sat quietly as Grim ran a scanner over Wolffe’s torso, checking for any unseen injuries. Once he was done, he used a hypospray to inject an anti-inflammatory. “Now you can get dressed.”

Swearing under his breath, Wolffe pulled his bodysuit back on, pressing the magseals back together as Grim turned his attention to Eren. “Well?”

Eren blinked at him. “Well, what?”

Grim looked between the two commanders and shook his head. “How you two are the ones in charge… Robes off, Commander. I don’t have Force powers or x-ray vision.”

“Oh…”

Eren started to strip off her robes, wincing as she struggled to pull the sleeves down her arms. Wolffe hovered nearby, worried now about her injuries. But Grim pointed to the door. “Some privacy for the little commander.”

Wolffe hesitated, looking between Eren and Grim, and he realised that Grim would be seeing her undressed. Grim was a medic, and a damn good one, but it still made him feel uncomfortable. So, he swallowed down his discomfort and headed for the door. “I’ll be on the bridge.”

“No, you won’t,” Grim called after him. “Shower, then rest. My orders.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes as he limped out of the medbay. “Fucking medics…”

Eren sat quietly, trying not to smile as Grim stood back and looked her over. She was still wearing her bra and trousers, but he could see the worst of it. “What landed on you?”

“Wolffe.”

Grim nodded to himself as though it all made sense. “Heavy bastard.”

Eren had to agree. Heavy enough to knock the consciousness out of her. “Better him than half the cliff.”

“Debatable.”

Eren sat quietly as Grim cleaned up the many scrapes and cuts from the falling rocks, then he stood back to assess her. “You’re going to be black and blue for a while. I’ll spray you with bacta, but you’ll just have to ride it out.”

“That’s okay,” she shrugged. “Blue matches my lightsaber.”

Grim gave her an unimpressed look as he misted the bacta spray over the bruises starting to appear. “Very amusing.”

“Thanks.”

“I was being sarcastic.” He nodded at her to indicate she could get dressed as he put things away. “What’s going on with you and the commander?”

Eren stared at his back, her heart racing. “What…what do you mean?”

Grim washed his hands and eyed her intently as he dried them. “I’ve never seen him run that fast before.”

She thought back to what she could remember. She was fighting off droids, missiles were flying, and she remembered hearing Wolffe call her name. Her first name. Then he grabbed her, and they were both falling. She shifted uncomfortably under Grim’s unyielding gaze. “Well…you know what he’s like. He probably thought I was going to fuck everything up by landing wrong.”

This seemed to amuse the medic. “Yes, that sounds like something he’d think. But I don’t think he’d run that fast for any of us.”

“Well…you all wear armor,” she offered, trying to think on her feet. “I’d be a lot more black and blue if he hadn’t taken the worst of it.”

“You’d be dead.” Grim was nothing if not concise. “You’re right. He knows how delicate you are compared to the rest of us.”

“I’m not delicate!”

“You don’t have a hard shell, and you can’t handle your booze. And poor old Wolffe has to follow you around to mitigate the damage.”

Eren scowled at him as she slid off the bed with a pained wince. “That’s insubordination or something, isn’t it?”

“It is. But you don’t have any witnesses, so…”

“Yeah, I get it. You all stick together.” She hooked her lightsaber back onto her belt. The men had worked hard to dig it out for her, but it was a little scratched up from being buried in the rubble. They all continued to look out for her, including the medic. “Thanks for patching me up, Grim.”

“Anytime. Want a painkiller? You’re grimacing harder than I do.”

“No thanks. I’ll be fine. Not as bad as last time.”

Grim thought back to the last time. He’d spent several hours picking the tiny fragments of her implants out of the back of her head. “No, not as bad as last time. And I prefer to have a patient conscious and talking to me, even if they do need to wash their mouth out every now and then. Same orders as Wolffe – shower and rest.”

“Yes, sir.” Eren shuffled back to her quarters. She was suddenly exhausted. Physically exhausted and mentally exhausted. Emotionally drained. And everything hurt. She contemplated going back to Grim for that painkiller, but it felt like too much effort, so she made it to her cabin and flopped onto the bunk with a groan. Grim was right – she needed a shower. She and Wolffe had been buried under who knows how much rubble and dirt. She was filthy. Struggling to sit back up, she undressed and went into her tiny fresher to shower, pulling a face at the brown water running down the drain. Eventually, the water ran clear, and she rinsed off and wrapped herself in a towel. She examined what she could see of herself in the small mirror over the sink. Bruises were starting to appear on her chest and shoulders, visible lines where Wolffe’s armor plates had impacted. Her face was covered in small grazes and nicks, and she looked generally as though she’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. But she knew Grim was right. If it weren’t for Wolffe’s actions, she’d more than likely be dead – flattened under a mound of stone and rubble.

Sighing, she adjusted the beads on the end of her braid and went back into her cabin to dress. As she pulled clean clothes from her locker, there was a knock on her door. Swearing under her breath, she leaned close to the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s Wolffe. Can we talk?”

She stood frozen for a moment, forehead pressed against the cold, durasteel door. “I just need to—”

“I only need a minute.”

“Well—” she jumped back when her door slid open. He’d used his override code again. “I was going to get dressed first…”

Wolffe looked mortified. “Sorry, I thought you were… I didn’t want to stand out here making a scene.”

Eren clutched the towel more tightly to her body, suddenly aware of what it didn’t cover. Flustered, she pulled him into the room and closed the door. “What is it?”

Wolffe studied her carefully, his eyes trailing up and down her body, still wet from her shower. “You’re covered in bruises.”

“I’m okay. It could have been a lot worse. You got pretty beat up, too.” Wolffe was in a clean bodysuit, the lower half of his armor on, the worst of his injuries covered.

“I’m fine. I’ve had worse.”

“Well, you didn’t lose an eye this time,” she quipped, wishing she could take back the words immediately.

Wolffe gave her an odd look before nodding at the clothing in her hand. “Maybe you should, uh…”

“Right. Yes. I should do that.” She ducked back into the tiny fresher and dragged her clothing on, swearing loudly when her leggings got stuck on her damp legs, causing her to lose her balance and fall into the wall.

“You okay in there?”

“Fine,” she called out, pulling a sweater on before going back to her room. Wolffe was sitting on the chair, so she sat on the bunk facing him. “What do you want to talk about?”

Wolffe checked her over again. She looked small and frail somehow in her oversized sweater, her feet bare as she tucked them beneath her. But she was alive. That’s what mattered. Alive and looking expectantly at him. “What happened back there…well…I’m sorry.”

Eren blinked, surprised. “You’re sorry? Why are you sorry?”

“What do you mean, why am I sorry? I crossed a line I shouldn’t have crossed, and I apologise. It won’t happen again.”

Bewilderingly to him, she looked almost disappointed. But then she nodded resignedly. “You’re right. We both crossed a line. I apologise, too.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. This is on me. And I’m sorry for everything I said back on Coruscant.”

“You already apologised for that.”

“Well, I need to make this very clear. I apologise for my behaviour then, and for what happened today. It was unprofessional and out of line, and it won’t happen again.”

“You already said that bit.”

“Commander, I… Eren…” He slumped in the chair. This was harder than he’d expected. “I’m sorry. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

“Yeah…me too.”

“You’re a Jedi. I thought attachment was supposed to be forbidden.”

“It is. That doesn’t mean I can’t wish it was different.”

Wolffe stood. This was all becoming too difficult. Knowing that maybe she felt the same way just made everything worse. He stopped at the door and gave her a final look. “You should get some rest.”

“So should you. You’re disobeying Grim’s orders.”

“I don’t take orders from a sergeant.”

“Well, I won’t say anything. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Wolffe held her gaze for a long moment. That wasn’t the only secret she’d need to keep. For both their sakes.

Eren exhaled and opened her eyes. She was sitting cross-legged on a mat in the gym. Master Plo was sitting across from her, quiet in his meditation. Meditation was easier when your mind wasn’t racing with a million thoughts. She knew that was the whole point of the exercise, to empty her mind of these thoughts, but today, it wasn’t working. After a moment, Master Plo tilted his head, and she knew he was looking at her. With his mask on, she’d had to learn different ways of reading him, just like she did with the helmeted troopers. That’s how she knew that Wolffe was often watching her from what he perceived to be the safety of his helmet. At first, she’d assumed he was keeping a close eye on her, ready to pull her up for some failing. But now…now she knew there was something else behind it. It troubled her and made her feel good all at once. Mostly, it troubled her.

“Eren, is there something you’d like to talk about? I sense that you are troubled by something. Are you still in pain from your injuries?”

“No. No pain. I was lucky. Grim said if Wolffe hadn’t grabbed me…”

“Then I would say it has more to do with Commander Wolffe’s actions than luck, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes. Grim said he’d never seen Wolffe run so fast.”

“The clones are loyal,” Master Plo said with a sage nod. “They risk their lives for the Republic and us every day. It is built into them. Wolffe is perhaps more loyal than most.”

Eren wasn’t convinced. After everything that had happened, she wasn’t so sure it was just down to loyalty. And now it scared her that Wolffe had put himself into such a risky position to protect her. She should be the one protecting him. “Master Plo, I don’t want anything to happen to one of our men because of me. I don’t want them to put themselves in harm’s way like that.”

“You should not underestimate our men, Eren. They are highly trained and experienced, and they have good judgement. I don’t believe that any of them take unnecessary risks.”

“I don’t think I underestimate them…I just…maybe I’m too close to them. Maybe I’m too attached. Maybe that’s affecting my judgement.”

“I do not believe that, Eren. Your close bond with the men is what makes you so effective. Just as it makes me more effective. This war is a situation in which some kind of closeness is required. The better we all know each other, the better we perform. Do not mistake that for the guidelines on forming attachments in the Jedi code.”

Eren stretched her legs out and stood. “Thank you, Master Plo. I think I should get some rest. Are we still meeting up with the 327th?”

“We are. Unless the intelligence changes.”

Weary, Eren left the gym and wandered back towards her quarters. It had been almost a week since the cliff. She was mostly recovered, with just some faint bruising. She’d stayed close to Master Plo and done her best to avoid being alone with Wolffe. As an almost Jedi, she felt the responsibility was on her to make this right. And that meant keeping her distance, being professional. Detached. Back in her cabin, she showered and dressed for sleep, which meant lying restless on her bunk until her body conceded defeat to her mind. After several hours, she gave up and wandered to the wardroom to get a caf. It was late in the sleep cycle, and she wasn’t concerned about Wolffe being there at that time. But, as she shuffled in, there he was, hunched over a mug of caf as he read something on a datapad. He looked up when she entered the room, clearly surprised to see her there. She hadn’t been there for almost a week, and he knew she’d been avoiding him. “Caf’s hot,” he said, nodding at the pot.

“Thanks.”

She poured herself a cup and was about to slip out the door, but he stopped her. “You don’t have to leave. I’ll go. Don’t leave because of me.”

She stood for a moment, trying to decide the best course of action, then she sat beside him. “This isn’t going to work, Wolffe. The ship’s big, but it’s not that big.”

He switched the datapad off and shoved it aside. “What do you suggest then?”

“I don’t know. Do we pretend it never happened? Reset to a few weeks ago?”

“Reset?”

Eren shrugged. “I don’t have any better ideas. I don’t want us to be like this though…avoiding each other, not talking…”

“I don’t want that either. I never wanted to push you away. I miss those jokes of yours.”

She smiled at him. “I thought this was all just an elaborate ploy to avoid my jokes.”

“I’m tough enough to handle your sense of humour.” He held his right hand out to her. “We agree then? We reset and pretend this mess never happened?”

Eren shook his hand. “Until we come up with a better plan.”

Wolffe held onto her hand for a moment longer than he needed to, reluctant to let her go. But he did and reached for his datapad again. “That plan might have to wait. We need to work on this mission with the 327th. There’s still intelligence to collect, and General Secura thinks you can help with that.”

Eren looked at the mission briefing and pulled a face. “Nar Shaddaa?”

“Yeah. Should be a laugh a minute.” He pulled up a holochart of the planet and zoomed in on Hutta Town. “I’m not keen on fighting in an urban environment, so the more intel we can get, the better.”

“Maybe it’s more of a hearts and minds campaign.”

Wolffe gave her one of his looks. “There are no hearts or minds on Nar Shaddaa.”

Eren laughed as she got up to get the caf pot. “Then we’d better work on a proper plan.”

Several hours later, Wolffe woke with a start. He was still in the wardroom, the bright lights making him wince. And he wasn’t alone. Eren was still there, fast asleep, with her head resting on his arm. He watched her for a while, staying still so as not to wake her. He’d missed spending this time with her. Things might not ever be back to the way they were, but maybe he’d been able to salvage some of what they had.

Chapter Text

Eren stepped out of the lift into the hangar, looking for the ship that would take them across to the 327th’s flagship. She stopped in her tracks when she saw a gunship on the far side of the hangar. The nose artwork was different. As she drew closer, her eyes widened at the new image. It was her. A black silhouette image of her wielding her lightsaber, with several flying droid heads, the blades painted a rich blue. The image was buffered on each side by two clone helmets, just like the other artwork of Master Plo. But it was the caption that made her smile – Slasher Squad. She ran her fingers over the new artwork, blinking back tears. She belonged here now. This was her men showing her that she was one of them.

“What do you think, ma’am?”

She turned to see Mitch, the trooper she’d saved when he fell from a gunship. Then she remembered. Mitch was the artist. He’d done the artwork on the other ships. “Did you do this?”

“Yeah. I wanted to make sure it was done before our next mission. Do you like it?”

“I love it. I feel very honoured to have one of the ships like this.”

“I can do some more,” Mitch offered, clearly chuffed by her reaction. “It wouldn’t take me long.”

“I think one is enough, Mitch. But thank you. This is one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.”

Mitch seemed surprised by her confession. “Really? You saved my life, ma’am. That’s the least I can do.”

“Well, saving you is the least I can do. You don’t owe me anything. Are you coming with us?”

“Not this time, ma’am. Commander Wolffe said it was just a recce and intel for now.”

“That’s what I said.” Eren looked around to see that Wolffe had materialised behind them. He pulled his helmet off and studied the new nose art. “Not bad, Mitch. Not bad at all.”

“Thank you, sir.” Mitch made himself scarce as the others arrived to board. After Wolffe was Comet. Then Fitz arrived with Master Plo. Once Warthog had climbed into the cockpit, Eren stepped aboard, and they made the short trip across to the 327th’s fleet. The Venator had a bigger hangar than the Hand of Justice, more fighters and gunships neatly lined up. As she followed Master Plo out, she spotted Master Secura. She didn’t know Aayla Secura well, but seeing the striking Twi’lek woman made her feel instantly dull and drab. Aayla was curvy and feminine, and she radiated confidence, the kind of confidence Eren couldn’t imagine possessing.

She tried to straighten her posture as the Jedi master approached her. “Eren, it’s good to see you again. Has Master Plo told you much?”

“Just what’s in the brief. But Wolffe said you might need my help…”

Aayla glanced back to where Wolffe was conferring with her own clone commander, Bly. “It’s not the kind of thing you might be used to, but I think you’ll do fine. Come with me.”

Across the hangar, Wolffe watched Eren follow Secura to the lift. He turned back to Bly. “What’s this intel plan?”

Bly pulled an odd face. “It’s a little unorthodox.”

Wolffe raised an eyebrow at the Marshal Commander. “Unorthodox? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll find out.”

Eren looked at herself in the small mirror in Aayla’s cabin. She’d never worn make-up before, and she almost didn’t recognise herself with her eyes outlined and highlighted, her lips painted a deep crimson. Her braid had been carefully pinned up into her slicked-down hair and covered with a glitzy clip that also obscured her cochlear port and scar. It was like looking at another person. She stepped back and looked down at the costume she was wearing. It didn’t cover much, and she felt slightly naked in it. Aayla was similarly dressed in a dancing costume, but she carried it better. She filled it out more. She smoothed a hand over the beaded bikini top. “Are you sure I look the part?”

“You look fine,” Aayla said. She hung a heavy gold pendant around Eren’s neck and arranged it to sit in her cleavage. “Now you look perfect. Ready?”

“I think so. I just need to remember the dance moves.”

“You have those down better than me,” Aayla laughed. “I didn’t know you were such a good dancer.”

“That’s my misspent youth,” Eren confessed. “Too much sneaking out of the Temple and not enough discipline from Master Arynn.”

“You still are young. And I don’t think Flin was anything but a good influence on you. Look at who my master was!”

Eren laughed as she slipped on a pair of beaded gold slippers. “I like Master Vos. He’s a character.”

“That’s one word for it. Alright, let’s get to the hangar. We’ve got a ship to drop us off. Bly and Wolffe will stay aboard with a few others to extract us while Master Plo tries to find out who’s in charge.”

Eren took a final look at herself in the mirror. “Okay. Ready.”

Wolffe examined the old freighter. It was battered and rusty and barely looked as though it would fly. But it was the perfect vessel to get them into Hutta Town undetected—the kind of vessel the average smuggler or spice runner might use, the kind of vessel that authorities there turned a blind eye to.

“Wolffe, let’s go!”

He went back around to the ramp when Bly called him, almost tripping over his boots when he saw Eren. At least he thought it was her. She and General Secura were dressed as dancing girls, heavily made up and not looking at all like Jedi. He’d never been more grateful to be wearing his helmet because he knew that right now, his face would be betraying his every thought. He looked Eren up and down. She was wearing a skimpy gold bikini top that pushed her breasts together to create an eye-catching cleavage. The whole thing seemed to be held on with nothing but a few flimsy strings that looked as though they might snap if she bent over too quickly. Her lower half was barely covered by a matching bikini bottom, and some sheer, draped skirt pieces that were as good as useless when it came to covering anything. He’d seen her barely dressed before when he’d barged into her cabin to find her wrapped in a towel, but not on purpose, and not like this. He was horrified and wanted nothing more than to cover her up and protect her from ogling eyes. He gripped onto the hatch of the ship to stop himself, allowing his eyes to travel up to her face. Her short hair had been slicked back, and she was wearing a full face of makeup that made her eyes look larger and her lips look fuller. It was all too much, and he wasn’t sure how to feel. It was bad enough that Secura was taking her to infiltrate a Hutt enclave, but to take her like this?

He waited for Secura to pull Bly away to discuss something, then went to Eren. “You can’t do this. I’m pulling the pin.”

Eren blinked at him. “You’re what? You can’t do that, Wolffe, we’re ready to go.”

“You can’t go like this,” he hissed, leaning closer so no one else would hear him.

“Like what? I can’t go in my own clothes, can I?”

“But—”

“Eren, Wolffe, let’s go.” Secura was on the ramp, looking expectantly at them. She was similarly dressed, but she wasn’t revealing much more than she usually did. Swearing under his breath, he followed Eren up the ramp, alarmed to see that the bikini bottoms left more of her behind exposed than they covered. She was trim and toned, and he was transfixed by the way her hips curved into her narrow waist and—

“Sir, General Plo’s just moved into position. We’re good to go.”

Fitz had come up behind him, shaking him from his staring. “Right. Good. Let’s get out of here.”

He watched as Fitz looked Eren up and down. “I’d ask where your lightsaber is, but I’m pretty sure it’s not on you.”

Wolffe opened his mouth to reprimand his lieutenant, but Eren just laughed and swished the sheer skirt around. “No pockets in this thing.”

“Well, don’t worry, ma’am, we’ll be standing by for a quick extraction if it all goes south.”

“Hopefully it won’t,” Bly said. He stuck his head into the cockpit. “Let’s get going.”

Wolffe propped himself up on a bench on the opposite side of the cabin, watching the others. Fitz stayed with Eren, chatting and laughing like they always did. Sometimes he felt a pang of envy at the easy relationship Fitz had with her, with everyone really. He was just that kind of man. Easy to get along with. Even Bly and Secura were joining in. But then he thought back to what had happened on Pasaana. He’d been the one that she’d kissed, not Fitz. It was wrong to begrudge Fitz the relationship he had with her, even if it was a bit friendly. Who was he to judge?

He went through to the cockpit to check their position, then commed his general. “General Plo, we’re about fifteen minutes away.”

“Very good, Wolffe. I am in position. There is a freight platform not far from the club. I will send you the coordinates.”

“Yes, sir.”

Wolffe pulled his helmet off and waited for the coordinates to flash on his vambrace. He held his arm out for the pilot to read. “Landing platform here. Go in easy. Don’t look too cautious.”

“Gotcha, sir.”

The ship descended down into Hutta Town, and even through the viewport, he could see what kind of place it was. The kind of place where certain people thrived, and others were victimised. It wasn’t a civil society. It was a criminal enterprise. If he felt uneasy before about Eren being there, now he felt even more reluctant to let her off the shuttle. But he knew forcibly preventing her wouldn’t look good, so he slid his helmet on and went back into the cabin. “General Plo said the club’s not far from here.”

Bly pulled up a small map on his palm projector. “A block east. We’ll be here waiting. Any sign of trouble, you need to activate your beacon.”

Wolffe saw Eren’s fingers drift to the pendant hanging around her neck. That must be where her emergency beacon was. Hopefully, she wouldn’t need it, but this was Hutt territory, and he wasn’t filled with confidence. He went to her as the ship docked with a thud. “Don’t let your guard down. We’ll be here when you need us.”

She gave him a grateful smile as she smoothed her costume down. “I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”

He rolled his eyes under his helmet. Easier said than done. He and the other troopers made themselves invisible as the ramp lowered, and then Eren and Secura were out of sight. Once the ramp closed, Wolffe went to Bly. “I hope your general knows what she’s doing.”

“She does. Don’t worry.”

Eren fidgeted nervously as she waited for the music to start. Master Plo was out there, and that reassured her. He wouldn’t let anything happen to them. She almost smiled to think of her master operating as a smuggler, offering up his dancing girls as collateral to secure the deal. But she had faith in him. She blinked when the music started, and then she was moving, following Aayla onto the stage to start the routine they’d quickly rehearsed. She felt ridiculous bumping and grinding and swaying her hips. This wasn’t how she usually danced. But even through the smoky air within the club, she could see they had the attention of the patrons. Aayla slithered past her. “Plo is talking to the Hutt.”

Eren squatted and pivoted her legs through the air, taking the opportunity to pick out Master Plo, a black cloak covering his robes as he sat at a table near a slimy, sand-coloured Hutt. She felt instantly easier and relaxed into the routine. A pole rose up from the stage, as expected, and she exchanged a look with Aayla before gripping the pole and swinging herself around it, performing a series of erotically charged moves. It was difficult not to blush, knowing her master was in the audience, but she consoled herself with the fact that none of their men were there, especially Wolffe. As she slid down the pole into the splits, she glanced over to see Master Plo beckon to her. Careful not to look too worried, she dropped down from the stage and went to his table, trying to avoid the leers and groping hands of men in the crowd. When she reached Plo Koon, the Hutt he was speaking to looked her over lasciviously, a dribble of drool escaping his reptilian mouth.

The Hutt beckoned her closer. “Yesss,” he hissed. “She will do nicely.”

Eren felt her heart racing. This wasn’t in the plan. But she didn’t let herself panic. Not yet. She stood quietly, letting the Hutt look his fill. “She will serve you well,” Master Plo told the huge slug. “But not until you fulfill your end of the bargain.”

The Hutt rolled its emotionless eyes towards Plo. “You are not in a position to be making bargains.”

Eren felt her breath come a little faster, but she could feel Master Plo’s will. Not yet. You will know when. She grimaced as the Hutt reached into a jar of living amphibians and pulled one out to shove into his gaping maw, then he used the same hand to grab her arm and yank her closer until she was pressed up against his fetid body. “Be careful,” Master Plo warned. “She bruises easily.”

The Hutt laughed a low, gurgling chuckle. “She will get used to bruises.” Eren turned her head away as the Hutt pulled her closer and used his other hand to grab her face and wrench it around. “I will enjoy seeing her submit.”

Eren held her breath, almost gagging from the stench, when suddenly Master Plo was on his feet, his lightsaber slashing through one of the Hutt’s arms. She wrenched free as the bar descended into chaos and patrons began to panic. “Jedi! He’s a Jedi!”

She heard shots fired and swung about to Force throw the shooter against the wall as Aayla jumped down from the stage to join her in fighting back the rowdy patrons. Without a lightsaber at her disposal, Eren picked up a chair and slammed it into an angry Rodian’s face as he charged at her. She didn’t even know who they were fighting now, or why. They were just trying to get out of there in one piece. Aayla was busy keeping three other men at bay, but was able to call back over her shoulder. “Time for the beacon!”

Nodding, Eren activated the beacon in her pendant before throwing herself on the back of a man who was aiming a blaster at her master. Enraged, the man backed up into the wall, slamming the air out of her before she dropped to the floor, winded. She scrambled to her feet and reached out with the Force, spinning the blaster out of his hands and into her own. She pointed the weapon at him. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

Clearly lacking common sense, the man rushed at her, but before she got a chance to get off a shot, he dropped like a stone, hit from behind. Eren blinked when she saw Wolffe standing there, blaster smoking. He grabbed her arm and started shoving through the crowd. “Stay behind me!”

But she didn’t stay behind him. She wrenched free, looking frantically for Master Plo and Aayla. She lost sight of Wolffe in the crowd as she shoved her way to where she’d last seen her master, relieved to see he had the Hutt restrained, holding his lightsaber under its fatty chin. “Eren, come and take these coordinates.”

She managed to reach him and found a scrap of flimsi and a pen to take down the coordinates for the Separatist staging area as the Hutt gasped them out. She folded the flimsi and tucked it into her bra as Plo backed towards her. “Time for a strategic exit.”

Using his lightsaber to clear a path, Master Plo led her towards the chaos in the middle of the room where Wolffe, Bly, Fitz, Comet and several of Bly’s men were trying to keep the crowd contained. Eren set the blaster she’d taken to stun. No point taking lives unnecessarily. She fired off several shots, one of them hitting a man who was about to take a shot at Fitz. He spotted her and raised a hand in recognition, then, before she realised what was happening, he ran at her, throwing himself on her as shots filled the room. Confusion reigned as everyone hit the deck, and she managed to peek over Fitz’s shoulder to see that a Hutt henchman had turned up with a rotary cannon. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

She heard Fitz give an amused snort under his helmet as he raised himself enough for her to get a breath in. “Enjoying Nar Shaddaa?”

“Oh, yeah.” She yelped as Fitz threw himself down on her again as another volley of shots was fired. Then there was an unexpected silence. The shots had stopped, and there were quiet murmurings from the patrons who hadn’t had the sense to leave yet. Fitz cautiously rose to his knees, and Eren sat up to see Wolffe in the middle of the room, both of his blasters drawn. The man with the rotary cannon was lying on the floor at his feet.

Wolffe looked around to assess the situation. “I want everyone out of this club right now! Everyone out!”

The last few patrons scampered out the door, but Eren knew it wasn’t over yet. They still had to get to the ship. Fitz stood and offered her a hand up. He pulled his sidearm and kept her hand in his. “Stay with me, ma’am. We’re gonna have to run for it.”

“Yeah…”

Bly was already leading Aayla and the other towards a back door. “This is closer to the platform. Less crowded too.”

Eren stuck with Fitz, blaster gripped in her free hand as they slipped out of the club with Comet, Wolffe and Master Plo bringing up the rear. A few potshots whizzed by them, but they made it to the ship unscathed, running aboard as the pilot started the drives. Within seconds, they’d lifted off and were on their way back. She looked down to see that Fitz still had a tight grip on her hand, and he quickly released it. She looked at Aayla to see her adjusting her costume, straightening everything up. When she looked down at herself, she was dismayed to see that she looked even more dishevelled. There was nothing left of the sheer skirt except for a few tatters, leaving her in just the skimpy bikini. One of the ties had come loose, and she quickly retied it before it left her even more exposed.

Seeing her discomfort, Master Plo took off the black cloak he was wearing and draped it over her shoulders. “Do you have the coordinates?”

She nodded and dug into one of her bra cups to produce the folded flimsi with a flourish. “Just like we planned.”

Fitz laughed as he pulled his helmet off. “If that was the plan, we’re in worse shape than I thought!”

Plo rumbled a low laugh. “Sometimes the plan changes. But we got what we came for.”

Across the cabin, Wolffe was quietly fuming. He didn’t like plans that put Eren in that kind of situation. He didn’t like plans that left her unarmed, exposed to some of the vilest scum in the galaxy. And he definitely didn’t like plans that made him want her even more than before.

Chapter Text

Back on board the 327th’s destroyer, Eren wrapped the black cloak around herself and went with Aayla to her cabin to change. She showered to scrub any remnant of Hutt from her skin and wipe off the heavy makeup before putting her own drab clothing back on. Once Aayla had showered and changed, they went to the conference room where Master Plo was debriefing the Council with Bly and Wolffe by his side. Eren sidled up to Fitz, where he was leaning against a wall, waiting. “I’m starving! Does this crate have the same layout as ours?”

“Nope. Completely different. Come on, I’ll show you to the wardroom.”

They slipped quietly from the room, not seeing the look Wolffe gave them when he spotted them sneaking out. In the wardroom, Fitz made caf while Eren dug through a cabinet to find some ration bars. She ripped one open with her teeth and took a large bite, washing it down with a mouthful of caf. “Who knew dancing would take it out of me?”

“It was a little more than dancing.”

Eren laughed when she saw the look on Fitz’s face. “I’m just glad none of you saw me dancing. Did you ever think you’d see Master Plo in a bar fight?”

“Not in all my twelve years. But he handled himself like a man who’s been doing it all his life.”

“You should tell him; I think he’d be flattered.”

Fitz chuckled and downed his caf in two gulps. “We’d better get back to the hangar. Wolffe’ll be impatient to leave.”

“Wolffe? Impatient?”

“Crazy, huh?”

Laughing together, she and Fitz made their way back to the hangar the long way as he gave her an abridged tour of the destroyer. “This baby can support about nine thousand men,” he explained as they went. “We could fit a few of our cruisers inside it.”

They took one of the many turbolifts down to the hangar to meet the others, but they were the first to arrive. Or so they thought. As Fitz showed her the array of fighters the destroyer could carry, they spotted something in the far corner. It was easy to make out Aayla Secura, and she was with a trooper, Commander Bly. Eren’s eyes went wide as she watched them. Bly took his general’s hands in his and leaned forward to kiss her, and she kissed him back. Stunned, Eren looked at Fitz. He looked equally stunned and quickly yanked her down behind a Y-wing. “We did not see that!”

“But we did see it,” she whispered. “Fitz, what if someone finds out?”

“Someone did just find out,” he hissed back. “Us! And I’m trying very hard to erase it from my memory.”

They huddled together silently until retreating footsteps told them the Jedi and her commander had left the hangar. Eren cautiously stood and peered around the fighter. “All clear.”

Fitz exhaled loudly as he came out. “Well, out of all the unexpected things to happen today, that goes right to the top of the list.”

“Will they get into trouble?”

“I don’t know. Only if someone important finds out. There’s nothing specific in the regs. Not for us anyway. But for you laser sword folks…”

“So…clones can have relationships? Just not with Jedi who aren’t supposed to have attachments?”

“That’s about the size of it. Messy business.”

“I suppose. Maybe once this is all over…”

“Once this is all over, General Secura will still be a Jedi, and Commander Bly will still be a clone owned by the Republic. That’s assuming we win.”

Eren looked at Fitz. He didn’t usually express any opinions about his status, or lack thereof. He looked frustrated…angry. Eren grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry, Fitz. I wish it was different. I wish there was something I could do to—”

“Don’t worry about it, ma’am. We all know the deal.”

“It’s not much of a deal.”

“Could be worse,” he shrugged. “Could be that slimy one-armed Hutt back there.”

Eren pulled a face. “I don’t think I’ll ever get that smell out of my nostrils.”

Fitz pulled his own face. “Just how close did you get to him?”

“This close.” She pulled up her sleeve to show him the red marks on her arm where he’d grabbed her.

Fitz took her arm to examine the marks. “Why didn’t you hit the beacon earlier?”

“Because we had everything under control.”

“You and I have very different versions of under control.”

“Maybe,” she said, linking her arm through his as they walked to their own ship. “But we all made it out, and that’s the main thing.”

Wolffe stepped out of the lift with Plo Koon, ready to go back to the Hand. Once they had the green light from the Council on the intel they’d retrieved, they’d be launching an attack on the Separatist stronghold on Nar Shaddaa. Bly would be in command, but he’d left the briefing early with Secura. He looked around the hangar and spotted them walking towards the 104th’s gunship. Then he saw Eren and Fitz appear from behind a Y-wing, arms linked as they whispered to each other. Frowning under his bucket as he wondered what they’d been up to, he approached Bly. “Council will get back to us within a few hours. Then it’s all systems go.”

Bly nodded and shook Wolffe’s hand. “Aayla said your padawan acquitted herself well today.”

“Yeah. She usually does.” He boarded the gunship with the others to make the short trip back to the cruiser, and as they deboarded in their own hangar, Eren went off with the general. He looked around for his lieutenant. “Fitz, I’d say we’ll be getting the green light from the Council. Start getting things ready for a ground assault.”

“You got it, sir.”

With a few hours to himself, Wolffe made his way to his cabin to shower and review the coordinates they’d gotten from the Hutt. He wanted to know the ground inside and out before he took his men down. As he walked down the corridor from the lift, he spotted Eren coming the other way, heading for her own cabin. “You should get some rest; we’ll be moving again soon.”

“I’m okay.” She hesitated before opening her door. “Wolffe, can I talk to you about something?”

Wolffe pulled his helmet off and nodded, unlocking his own door to let her in first. Surprisingly, she perched on his bunk, so he took the chair. “What is it?”

Eren thought for a moment before speaking. “Just…before we came over, Fitz and I…”

Wolffe held his breath, but his face remained emotionless. She was going to tell him there was something going on with her and Fitz. That would explain a lot. But then he’d have to deal with it as a commander, and he didn’t like the idea of having to do that. Fitz was his best man and one of his closest brothers. He didn’t want to have to—

“…we saw something. Something we weren’t meant to see.”

Wolffe exhaled. “What kind of something?”

“You have to promise not to say anything to anyone.”

“I don’t have to promise that.”

Eren gave a frustrated huff. “Fine. I’m asking you to promise not to say anything.”

“Fine. Whatever. What could you possibly have seen that warrants this much drama and—”

“We saw Commander Bly and Master Secura kissing.”

Wolffe blinked slowly. “Each other?”

“Of course each other! Who else would they be kissing?”

“Are you sure that’s what you saw? It could have been—”

“We both saw it, Wolffe. There’s no mistake.”

Wolffe slumped back in his chair. “Fuck.” Eren sat quietly on the bunk, giving him time to process the revelation. After a moment, he looked at her. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“Yeah, I think we both agree on that. I’ll just add it to the list of secrets I’m carrying around.”

“This isn’t the same thing. This is—”

“How is it different? You and I—”

“There isn’t a you and I, Eren. There can’t be.”

“But…maybe…”

“No maybes. What happened on Pasaana was a mistake, Commander. You know it, and I know it. We can’t make that kind of mistake again. No ifs, buts, or maybes.”

Eren took a long breath, then nodded. “You’re right. Sorry to bother you, Wolffe.”

She went to the door, but Wolffe grabbed her arm before she could open it. “This isn’t…about how I feel or what I want. This is about what’s right. We have to do what’s right.”

She looked up at him and smiled sadly. “I know. I know the rules. I’ve been following them all my life. Sometimes I slip up.”

“Well, nobody’s perfect. Not even you.”

“Definitely not me. I should go and practice my sabacc face for when I see Bly and Aayla again.”

“Yeah.”

They stood silent for a moment before Eren said, “You should probably let me go.”

Wolffe looked down to see that he was still holding her arm. “Sorry.”

“I know. Me too.”

Wolffe found himself leaning closer. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Me neither.”

He was close enough now that he could feel her breath on his face. “I’m not sure I know what we’re talking about now.”

“We don’t have to talk.” Eren closed the distance, pressing her lips to his. He closed his eyes, everything in his brain telling him he should pull away, open the door and push her out. But instead, he put his arms around her, finally holding her the way he wanted to hold her, pulling her closer. He felt Eren’s fingers find the skin at the back of his neck, her touch soft and gentle. She was still kissing him.

When they finally parted, he let her go and stepped away from her. “We can’t keep doing this.”

“No, we can’t.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.” She opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. “I’ll see you on the surface.”

Four hours later, Eren was travelling to the surface in the gunship with her image on the nose. Wolffe was on one of the other ships. Deliberately. She’d seen him change direction when he saw her on board. He was right. She knew he was right. They needed to keep some distance until this…whatever it was, had ridden its course. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

As they travelled down, she wondered how Aayla reconciled this with her duty to the Jedi order. Looking beyond the inappropriateness of a relationship with an officer in your command, attachment was forbidden. But maybe it was the kind of ‘friend with benefits’ relationship she had with Rak’hin. Rak’hin was her friend; they’d grown up together and dabbled in a physical relationship as young adults. But they both knew where they stood. They knew where the line was. With Wolffe, it was different. If there was a line, she’d already crossed it, and it was hard to see a way back. When she looked up, Fitz was watching her. He gave her that look she was so familiar with now. You good? She nodded and managed a smile. Time to shake herself out of this. She needed to focus.

The ships landed them at a staging area in an abandoned industrial area on the outskirts of Hutta Town. Several ships from the 327th had already landed, and she found it difficult to even look at Aayla and Commander Bly, scared of what she might see. Realistically, she knew she wouldn’t see anything. Not here. Not out in the field. But it still left her flustered. Fitz sidled up beside her. “I can tell you’re deliberately trying not to look at them.”

“Fuck! Am I that obvious?”

“Only to me, Slasher. We’re in this together.”

“Yeah… Just you and me.” She didn’t tell him she’d already told Wolffe, because then she’d have to tell him why, and things were already messy enough. She glanced over as Wolffe’s ship landed; even without looking closely, she could tell he was similarly trying to avoid Bly and Aayla. It all felt so awkward. She followed Fitz as he went to brief with Wolffe and Plo Koon. She needed to be there too. Bly and Secura joined them, and she saw Wolffe shift awkwardly as Bly took over the briefing. “Wolffe, I want you to come in from above. Jetpacks. I know your boys like to be in the air. That suit you, General Plo?”

Plo Koon nodded. “If you and Aayla can manage things down here with your men, Eren and I will head up to the roof.”

Bly nodded approvingly. “That sounds like a plan. We don’t know what we’ll find in there, so stay alert. One of those sleemos at the club could have gotten word out.”

Briefing over, Eren followed the others back to their own men, watching as they geared up. Bly was right; Wolffe and his men did excel at using jetpacks in battle. Fitz pulled a spare one from a locker on the gunship. “Want one?”

“No. I wouldn’t even know what to do with it.”

Fitz flipped it over to show her the controls. “Up, down, flying around.”

“I might just stick with my own skills, thanks.”

“Suit yourself. You’ll be missing out on some fun.”

“We’re not here to have fun,” she said, trying to suppress a smile. “This is a war.”

“Gotta find fun where you can,” he shrugged. “See you up there, ma’am.”

Eren watched as he jogged over to round up his squads. Fitz was a good friend to her, and she knew without him, she’d be adrift in the battalion. Fitz had patiently stepped her through everything she needed to know from finding her way around the cruiser to understanding the capability of the onboard weapons. She had no doubt he’d have her flying around in a jetpack if she expressed an interest. He was everything she’d ever imagined a brother might be. Kind, patient, protective, and willing to tease her and have a laugh together. She didn’t remember her own family. She didn’t know if she had brothers or sisters. She didn’t remember anything about her parents – just vague visions and feelings. Nothing really. The Temple had become her family, and now the 104th. She felt as though she belonged, and that felt good. She spotted her master and ran to catch up with him. “We still don’t know what’s in there.”

“No, we will find out. But the intelligence suggests that a lot of ordnance is transiting in and out of here. If we can put a stop to it, that’s fewer weapons in enemy hands.”

She followed Master Plo as he scaled the outside of the largest warehouse. On the roof, she and Plo took up positions on opposite sides of the roof over the hatches, and Plo commed the others. “Eren and I are in position.”

Eren waited, breath held as Bly gave the command. “All units move in!”

As the 327th troops moved in below, Eren yanked her hatch open as Plo did the same, dropping into the warehouse to secure any attempted escape. Inside, it was chaos. Droids and the odd organic supervisor were firing at a yet unseen enemy as Bly’s troops broke through the doors at ground level. The warehouse was over several levels, and the catwalks connecting the levels were soon crowded with confused workers. She glanced through a window when she heard a familiar noise. Jetpacks. She saw her own men swooping in to seal off the external fire escapes and roof. Everything was going according to plan. Exchanging a nod with Master Plo, she ignited her lightsaber and leapt down to the first catwalk, slashing through droids as they tried to get past her. Occasionally, she looked down to see that Bly, Aayla and their troops had things in hand on the ground. Even in those fleeting glances, she could see the Jedi and her commander were never far from each other, working in sync together.

The platform she was on shook then, and she saw a crate of something had exploded in a far corner. She swore to herself as she scrambled to her feet. They had live ordnance in here. She slashed through the last two droids and sprinted along the catwalk to the far side of the warehouse when she saw one of the human supervisors was frantically trying to set off more explosives. She heard a more controlled blast from outside and saw half a wall give way to allow more troops in – a mix of her own and Aayla’s. She spotted Fitz leading his squads in, and they all took to the air inside the warehouse, firing on droids as they moved around on the various levels. She was almost level with the human now, almost breathless as she threw herself over the side of the catwalk to land in front of him. She flicked off one end of her saber and pointed the blade at him. “Get down on the ground! Step away from the crates!”

But the man ignored her, and, too late, she saw the detonator in his hand. He pressed the button just as she ran her lightsaber through him, and a huge explosion rocked the warehouse above her. She cried out when she saw Fitz flung backwards in mid-air, his helmet flying as he dropped heavily to the ground. She was by his side in an instant, dropping to her knees. “Fitz! Fitz, can you hear me?”

But there was no response as he lay motionless, blood trickling from a wound on the side of his head. She looked around desperately for Grim and finally spotted him ducking and weaving his way over through the chaos. He shoved her out of the way to do a quick check. “We need to get him out of here.” He grabbed the lieutenant under the arms, and Eren took his legs to drag him from the warehouse to the relative safety of the staging area outside.

Eren watched anxiously as Grim called for a medevac and started pulling armor plates off Fitz’s motionless body. The medic looked up at her. “Commander, you’re needed back in there. I’ll take care of Fitz.”

She hesitated for a moment, torn. But she knew Grim was right. She was needed back in there. She needed to try to make sure no one else was hurt. She grabbed Fitz’s hand and squeezed his fingers. “Hang in there, Fitz.”

Without a backwards glance, she ran back into the building. This wasn’t over yet.

Chapter Text

Eren sat by Fitz’s bed in the medbay. They were diverting to the medical station at Ord Cestus to leave him for treatment. There were several of these stations dotted at various points throughout the galaxy, set up to quickly treat clone troopers and get them back out in the field. That was the goal. But she wasn’t naïve enough to believe that’s what always happened. She knew that Wolffe might not be here without Master Plo’s intervention, and she was determined to make sure that Fitz had the same chance, even if that meant sticking to his side through every stage.

Grim came to check on Fitz as part of his rounds, his face giving nothing away as he read the medscanner. He was about to move on, but Eren grabbed his arm to stop him. “Grim, how bad is it? You can tell me.”

Grim studied his commander. She’d been by Fitz’s side since they’d come back aboard, so he’d put a chair on the side of the bed he didn’t need to access his patient. It was no secret that she and the lieutenant were close. He entered some notes into the datapad that hung from the bed. “He’s stable.”

“Stable doesn’t tell me much.”

“You’re not a medic, Commander. It might not make sense to you to—”

“Grim, just tell me. Please?”

“Fine. He’s had a trauma to the head. That means a potential brain injury. Our helmets aren’t meant to fly off that way… That was the impact of the explosion. The other injuries are minor, but head trauma is beyond my pay grade.”

“What will they do at the med unit?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say they’ll run a phase five scan to see what’s going on in his head. What happens after that depends on the results of the scan.”

“Surgery?”

“Maybe. If they think he’ll—”

“If they think he’ll survive?”

Grim nodded. “That’s about the size of it.”

Eren looked back at Fitz. He had a dressing covering the wound on his head, and she knew that’s all Grim could do in his basic medbay. “I’ll stay with him, Grim, even if I need to stay at the med unit. I won’t let anything happen to him.”

Grim winced. He wanted to tell her what the most likely outcome would be. He hated to even think about it. That it happened to any brother was bad enough, but Fitz was an officer all the men looked up to and liked. Instead, he squeezed her shoulder as he went to check on his other patients. “I know you’ll take care of him, Commander.”

Wolffe stood in the doorway of the medbay. He could see Fitz laid out unconscious. Next to him, Eren sat on an uncomfortable chair, her head resting on the bed as she slept. Every time he’d checked in, she’d been awake, refusing to leave. But now, exhaustion had finally caught up with her. She had Fitz’s hand in hers, and Wolffe felt a twinge of something uncomfortable. Jealousy? That was ridiculous. He had nothing to be jealous of. First and foremost, he had no right to feel jealous. He had no entitlement here. Eren and Fitz were close. Of course she was going to be by his side. He wondered if she’d do the same for him, but then he remembered that she had done the same for him. The first person he saw after his surgery was her. She’d been there the whole time, making sure he was properly cared for.

His eyes went from Eren to Fitz. Fitz had survived Abregado. Apart from Sinker and Boost, he was all that was left of the original 104th. He was a fine officer and a good brother. What happened to Fitz mattered deeply to him, but there was little he could do about his ongoing care. That was up to the doctors at the medical station. And maybe Eren and General Plo. They had some sway as Jedi. He knew that from personal experience. He just had to hope that Fitz’s injuries were something he could recover from.

Worried by Eren’s fatigued state, he went and gently shook her shoulder. “Commander, you need to go and get some proper sleep in your bunk.”

Eren jolted awake, taking a moment to get her bearings. “Is Fitz okay?”

“He’s still stable,” Grim said, appearing from nowhere. “And the Wolffe’s right, ma’am. You need to go get some sleep. My orders.”

“But—”

“I’ll let you know if there’s any change.”

Eren nodded defeatedly and gave Fitz’s hand a final squeeze before she followed Wolffe from the room. They went silently back to their cabins, both of them worried about the lieutenant. Eren stopped at her door, frowning. Wolffe was about to use his override code to open the door and push her in, but she stopped him. “I’m not going to sleep.”

Wolffe gave her a look. “Grim’s orders.”

“I know, but I’m just going to lie there awake.”

Wolffe gave her another look, then grabbed her arm and pulled her along the corridor, taking them both to the wardroom. He pushed her into a chair and made them both caf. “You have to sleep sometime.”

“I know. I will when I know Fitz is okay.”

He might not be okay. Wolffe didn’t say what he was thinking. It wouldn’t help her, and it wasn’t something he wanted to think about either. “General Plo spoke to the med team before he went back to Coruscant. They’re expecting him.”

She nodded tiredly, taking her caf to sit on the padded bench that ran along one wall. “I don’t think he’s very happy with me.”

“Why wouldn’t he be happy with you?”

“Because I killed that man with the detonator.”

“So?”

“I shouldn’t have killed him. But I didn’t even hesitate, Wolffe. I just wanted to stop him. But I was too late.”

Wolffe went to sit beside her. “Hesitation is a luxury in a war. Didn’t I tell you that you needed to think fast and act faster? That’s what it means. If you’d hesitated, he might have had a chance to do even more damage.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “We’ll never know now.”

Wolffe frowned at how dejected she looked. “Eren, he was running weapons for the Seps. That’s who we’re fighting. It’s all well and good to have some kind of Jedi idealism, but it’s not always realistic. General Plo knows that.”

“Yeah…”

Wolffe looked down at her, alarmed to see tears rolling down her cheeks. “Eren?”

“I’m fine,” she said, trying to wipe the tears away. “Just tired, and worried about Fitz…”

Worried, Wolffe held her face in both hands and gave her one of his sternest looks. “You need to sleep, otherwise you’ll be no good to Fitz or anyone else.”

She gave another tired nod, but the tears kept falling, and without thinking, Wolffe put his arms around her, pulling her close so the tears rolled down his plastoid chest plate. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t lie and tell her everything would be fine. It might not be. But he could at least do this for her. Fatigue made people emotional; he knew that. But Eren’s arms were creeping around him, and her face was tucked into his neck, holding onto him the way he was holding her.

After a few quiet minutes, she pulled away, wiping her eyes and sniffling. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

Wolffe just shrugged. “There are a lot of things we shouldn’t have. You should get some sleep.”

“Yeah.” She curled onto her side on the narrow bench, fidgeting to try to get comfortable.

Wolffe watched her for a moment, then tapped her head. “Lift up.” Eren did as she was instructed and lifted her head up, giving him enough space to slide closer so she could rest her head on his armored thigh. “Better?”

“Softer than an army issue pillow.” She closed her eyes, fatigue overcoming her.

Wolffe watched her as her breathing slowed down and evened out. He was as tired as she was, and he knew he’d be next in Grim’s firing line. He fidgeted for somewhere to rest his hand, finding a space on his lap behind her head. His fingers rested near the messy scar at the base of her skull, still visible where the hair hadn’t grown back. Sometimes he thought she was too soft for war. She felt every loss too hard; she’d just been weeping over Fitz. But that scar reminded him of how tenacious she was. He let her braid twine around his fingers, gently toying with the beads. Sighing, he let his eyes drift shut. He could sleep with her close.

Eren kept a hand on Fitz’s repulsor stretcher as the medics came to collect him. Despite this being a Republic facility, she was reluctant to let him go. She’d heard rumours about what went on in these places. Whatever happened, she would stay with Fitz. She walked alongside the stretcher as it was guided through into the facility, casting a final look back at Wolffe. The rest of the 104th would be travelling to meet up with Master Plo and redeploy. Master Plo had advised her against staying with Fitz, but he’d agreed in the end that it would be for the best.

The medical station was impressive – large and well-equipped. As the clone medics steered the stretcher through, she saw a man walking towards her. A tall, Tholothian man dressed in white surgical scrubs. He gave her a polite nod. “Commander Kilyc?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Doctor Byn Kella. I specialise in head trauma.”

Eren managed a small smile. The man’s demeanour quickly put her at ease. She rested a hand on Fitz’s arm. “This is Fitz. He’s very important to our battalion. And to me.”

Kella took the datapad the Grim had attached to the stretcher to quickly read through the notes, then he looked at Eren. “I believe all these men are important, Commander, as I’m sure you do.”

She nodded, relief filling her at the doctor’s attitude. “What happens now?”

“Now, I need to run a scan to see what I’m dealing with. You’re welcome to come along and keep an eye on me.”

Eren gave him a sheepish look. “I don’t mean to be suspicious. Fitz is a good friend.”

“Then let’s go get him scanned.”

They followed the medics to a room deep within the station, where Fitz was loaded onto a platform jutting out of a large tube. It wasn’t difficult to tell how things worked. Fitz was strapped into place, and Doctor Kella led her to the side of the machine where a screen would show them the results. A medic pushed the platform into the tube, and within seconds, an image of Fitz’s head appeared on the screen. Eren watched Doctor Kella’s face, looking for something to tell her how bad it was. He cocked his head and ran a finger over and area on the right side of the skull, close to the injury. “There are some bone fragments here. I can remove those. We have a product that can replicate bone matter. I can’t see any injury to the brain – looks like your medic got him into bacta quickly.”

“He did. He said he needed to head off any inflammation.”

“Smart man. Alright, let’s get him into surgery.”

The medics pulled Fitz out and put him back on the stretcher to move him to an operating theatre. Eren followed the doctor to a sterile scrub room where he changed into clean scrubs and sterilised his hands and arms. He gave her a thoughtful look. “Do we trust each other now?”

“I trust you.”

He pointed to a window on the other side of the theatre. “You can watch from over there.”

Eren followed a medic to the observation room and stood at the window to watch as Fitz was prepped for surgery. His head was shaved, and clean sheets were laid over his body. A surgical droid assisted as Doctor Kella opened up the wound in Fitz’s head to begin the process of removing the fragments of bone to drop them into a dish. He had a magnifying scope over his eyes to make the task easier, and Eren could see that some of the fragments were tiny. She thought back to her own injury, her hand unconsciously going to the back of her head. Grim must have had to do something similar to remove all the tiny implant fragments from her head. Master Che had told her the wound was expertly cleaned and cared for. She must remember to remind Grim how much she appreciated him.

Doctor Kella worked quietly and methodically, using forceps to remove each fragment. Eren leaned forward when she saw him remove something larger – not big, but bigger than the bone fragments. It didn’t look like bone either. She saw the frown on the doctor’s face, even beneath his mask. After ten more minutes, Doctor Kella seemed to be done and cleaned around the wound before sealing a dressing over it. He pulled his gloves and mask off and beckoned to Eren through the window. She went back to the scrub room and waited patiently as he cleaned up. “That all went well,” he said as he pulled on a fresh set of scrubs. “Once it’s had a day to settle, I’ll seal up the skull fracture and he’ll be almost as good as new.”

“Are you sure?”

“As certain as I can be. He’ll need a few days here to recover, but in my experience, clones are quick healers.”

Eren went to the window of the scrubs room to watch as clone orderlies covered him with a blanket, ready to move to a recovery room. “Doctor, what was the larger piece you removed? It didn’t look like bone.”

“It wasn’t. It was a small organic particle. I’ve recovered similar from a few clones with head injuries. Something to do with the cloning process, I imagine. I’d say it was impossible to produce every unit to be flawless and identical.”

“Unit?”

Doctor Kella pulled a disgusted face. “Sometimes we have the Kaminoan doctors check in on us. That’s what they call the troopers. Are you hungry? You look like you haven’t eaten or slept for days.”

Eren nodded. “You’re right, I haven’t. But I could eat.” She walked with Kella through a complex series of corridors to take them to the mess hall. “I hear things about Kamino from my men…about what happens there. That’s why I didn’t want to leave Fitz. My master knows about it too.”

“Ethical cloning, they call it. No such thing if you ask me. Where are the ethics in creating an army of clones with no autonomy or agency?”

Eren didn’t have an answer for that. It was something she struggled with daily, but it was out of her hands. She and the doctor collected trays of food and found a table. “Have you always been in the army?”

“No. I joined up at the start of the war. I’m a good surgeon. I knew I could actually do something positive here to keep more men alive.”

“The GAR is lucky to have you.”

“It is,” he agreed. “If you could tell them that, I’d appreciate it. They might pay me a bit more.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

“I know you can’t. I’m not sure the Jedi anticipated being dragged into a war either. And you don’t even get paid.”

“Neither do the clones.”

“No, they don’t,” Kella agreed. “I’ve been lobbying my local representatives about just that. Hopefully, some of them will listen.” He took a long sip of caf. “What happened to your head?”

Eren touched the back of her head again. “I was injured at the first battle of Geonosis. I was the only survivor…I lost my hearing.”

“Cochlear implants?”

“Yes. But then I was injured again a while back – everything had to be reconstructed back there. It’s a bit messy. Our chief medic had to do something similar to what you just did, pulling out all the tiny bits of shrapnel and wire.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a good medic. How’re the implants?”

“They work. Our head engineer made me a new receiver to improve them.”

Kella looked impressed. “Your men must care a lot about you.”

“Well, I care about them too.”

Kella gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about your friend. He’ll come good, and I’ll have to approve him going back to the frontline.”

“What happens to the ones that don’t go back?”

“Kamino. I do my best to keep as many as I can from being sent back there. I’ve heard the stories, too.”

Eren ate properly for the first time in days. It was good to have someone to talk to who understood, an outsider who cared about the clones as much as she did.

Kella finished his own meal and stood. “I need to get back to it. I’ll have an orderly show you to where Fitz is recovering. If there’s a spare bed around, you can bunk down nearby.”

Eren smiled gratefully at the doctor. “Thank you. I appreciate what you’re doing here, Doctor. It means a lot.”

“What can I say? I take my civic duty seriously. I’ll see you later.”

Eren sat sipping the last of her caf. She had calls to make. Master Plo and Wolffe. But she needed to check on Fitz for herself before she did that. As much as she liked and trusted the doctor, she needed to see with her own eyes.

Chapter Text

Eren was sitting in the quiet recovery room when she felt the hand in hers twitch. Just as Doctor Kella had assured her, Fitz was waking up. She watched him as he opened his eyes, blinking at the unfamiliar surroundings. She stood so he could see her and squeezed his fingers. “Fitz?”

Fitz squinted up at her. “Eren?”

Eren smiled at him, relieved. “It’s me. How do you feel?”

“Fine…I think. What happened?”

“It’s my fault,” she said quickly. “There were explosives, and I didn’t stop him in time, and—”

“Whoa…now I think it’s coming back… What happened to me, though?”

“An explosion hit you while you were in the air. It blew your helmet off. Grim’s already making the procurement people wish they’d never been born.”

Fitz managed a small smile. “Sounds like him.” He looked around the room. “Where are we?”

“The med station at Ord Cestus. We had to bring you here for treatment. You had a head injury.”

“Bad?”

“Pretty bad. But Doctor Kella fixed you up. He said you’ll be fine.”

Fitz raised a hand to feel the bandage on his head. “So…no going back to Kamino?”

“No. We’re going back to the Hand of Justice together once the doctor’s cleared you.”

Fitz looked down to where she was holding onto his hand. “Have you been here the whole time?”

“Of course I have. You don’t really think I’d leave you, do you?”

“Well…it’s not really protocol.”

“You’ve known me a while, Fitz. Protocol isn’t really my thing.”

“I think that’s a Wolf Pack thing. Maybe we broke you.”

Eren smiled at his joke. “Maybe I already had it in me.”

He winced as he sat up straighter. “Anyone else injured? Or was it just my lucky day?”

“Just your lucky day. Don’t go bragging about it, though.”

“Ah, that soldier humour I hear so much about.” Eren and Fitz turned to see Doctor Kella in the doorway with a datapad in his hand. “I suppose that’s one way to cope with the things you see and experience.”

Eren released Fitz’s hand to move aside for the doctor. “Fitz, this is Doctor Kella. He did the surgery on your head.”

Fitz reached out to shake the doctor’s hand. “Thanks, Doc. I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me a thing,” Kella said, grabbing the trooper’s chart to check his stats. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine, I think. Eren…I mean, Commander Kilyc told me what happened.”

Kella looked between the padawan and the lieutenant. “She kept a close eye on me to make sure you were well looked after.”

“Yeah, she does that. We’re lucky to have her.” He sat patiently while Kella checked his pupils, then examined the wound under the dressing. “So, what’s the verdict, Doc? When can I get out of here?”

“You need a couple more days of rest here, then we’ll run another scan to make sure the bone replacement has fused. If it has, I can sign you out of here. Active duty a week or so after that.”

“Great, so—”

Kella put a hand on Fitz’s chest as he tried to get up. “Rest means staying in bed.”

Fitz sat back sheepishly. “Sorry, Doc. I promise I’ll behave.”

Eren patted her lieutenant’s hand. “I’m going to go and call Master Plo and let him know. Want me to bring you something to eat?”

“God, yes, I could eat the crotch out of a low-flying duck!”

Eren laughed as she followed the doctor from the room. “Got it. Lots of food. Back soon.”

Out in the corridor, Kella gave her a curious look as they walked towards the mess. “You can tell me to mind my own business, but is there something more…personal going on with your lieutenant?”

Eren stared at him, mortified. “What? No! We’re just…good friends. And even if it wasn’t that, I’m his commanding officer, it wouldn’t be appropriate!”

“Not trying to offend,” Kella said. “I’ve got no skin in the game. But you’re right – any kind of personal relationship would make things very messy.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me.”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.” She stopped at the junction that would lead her to the visitor quarters. “I need to go and call my master. Thanks again for taking such good care of Fitz.”

Still flushed with embarrassment at Kella’s question, she continued on to her cabin. If her relationship with Fitz seemed close to outsiders, what must people think when they saw her with Wolffe? Did they see? Did they know? She sank tiredly onto her bunk. She missed Wolffe. She’d only been here a week, but it felt like a long time. She hadn’t slept much, spending as much time as she could sitting by Fitz’s bed. And she didn’t sleep well away from Wolffe. She knew it was the same for him, and she knew it was wrong, but both of them slept better together. Even if it was slumped tiredly over the table in the wardroom, she always woke feeling as though she’d actually slept. Neither of them ever said a word about it, but it was a habit now, a routine.

She pulled the comlink from her belt and leaned back against the wall. She needed to call Master Plo. But it wasn’t Master Plo she called. “Eren?”

“Wolffe…I…”

“Eren, has something happened? Is it Fitz?”

“No! No, nothing’s happened. Fitz is fine. He woke up a little while ago, and he’s fine.”

There was a soft click, and then the holo shimmered to life. Wolffe was right there, looking worriedly at her. She could see he was in his own cabin, his armor removed. He cocked his head and frowned at her. “Have you been sleeping properly?”

“No. Have you?”

“No. But we haven’t seen much action since you left.” He arranged himself more comfortably against the bulkhead. “So, Fitz is okay? He’ll be back on duty?”

“Yes. Doctor Kella really cares about all the troopers here. He’s a good man.”

Wolffe studied her silently for a moment, the blue holo flickering softly. “Eren, why did you call me? You could have just sent me a message.”

“I don’t know. I just…I…”

“You what?”

“I miss you. I miss talking to you.”

Wolffe sighed audibly. “You shouldn’t.”

“I know. It’s just been strange being here…away from everyone.”

“It’s not the same without you here either.”

“Is it easier?”

“Well…it’s one less thing for me to worry about, even if it’s just for a while.”

“Wolffe, you know you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Don’t I? That’s easier said than done.”

Eren nodded. She understood. “I should go. I need to call Master Plo and then get Fitz something to eat before he eats his pillow.”

That got a smile out of Wolffe. “I’ll tell the general. You’d better go. I’ve seen Fitz when he gets hungry, and it’s not pretty.”

“Okay…well…I’ll see you in a few days, I guess.”

“Let me know when you’re cleared, and I’ll send a shuttle.”

“Okay. Wolffe…thanks.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. Just for talking. I’ll see you soon.” She tucked the comlink back into her belt and straightened her robe. Calling Wolffe had probably been a mistake, but she felt better after seeing him and hearing his voice.

Fitz lay on the scanner platform, trying to keep still as the doctor examined the screen. When the platform finally slid out, he sat up and ran a hand over his shaved head. “Well, Doc, how am I looking?”

“Everything looks good in there,” Kella said, prodding gently at the healing wound. “How do you feel?”

“Just fine. Ready to get back to it.”

Kella winced. It was challenging as a doctor to put a man back together and then see him so eager to get back to the battlefield. But every single clone he treated was like that. A single-minded dedication to their role in the war. It was admirable, but it also made him sad to see these men had no expectations of anything else. They knew who they were, they knew what they were, and most of them didn’t seem to aspire to much else. He often wondered if that was a self-protection mechanism. They were astute, highly intelligent men. Perhaps the easiest way to deal with their own lack of autonomy or agency was to simply not acknowledge it. Perhaps aspirations beyond that were too painful. He glanced over at the young padawan to see that she seemed as troubled by it as he was. But she covered it with a smile. “Wolffe said he’d send a shuttle once Doctor Kella cleared you.”

“I’m happy to sign off,” Kella agreed. “But you’re on restricted duties for at least the next week. No ifs, buts, or maybes. I’m expecting you to enforce that, Commander Kilyc.”

“I will. Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on Fitz.”

Fitz grinned at her. “Usually it’s the other way around, ma’am.”

“Well, not this time. I can be tough when I need to be.”

“If you say so, Slasher.”

Kella raised an eyebrow at her. “Slasher?”

“Long story,” she said sheepishly. “Long and wildly exaggerated.”

“Don’t listen to her, Doc,” Fitz said, sliding off the platform to walk with them back to his room. “Once she gets going with her double-bladed lightsaber, there isn’t a droid left standing.”

“You two must be quite a team,” Kella said with a chuckle.

Fitz grinned again, slinging an arm around Eren’s shoulders as they walked. “Yeah, we do alright, don’t we, ma’am?”

“Somehow,” she agreed. “I was a little slow this time, though.”

“I’m still alive,” he shrugged. “That’s what counts.”

Wolffe strode through the hangar as the shuttle docked. He wasn’t sure how he was going to greet Eren. Hopefully, something would come to him in the moment. The side hatch opened, and Fitz stepped out. He looked fine apart from the regrowth on his head. He held his hand out to pull his lieutenant into a hug. “You’re looking good, Fitz. Apart from your ugly skull.”

“Gee, thanks. Would you rather I did it like Boost?”

“No, that won’t be necessary.”

Warthog was next off, climbing out of the cockpit of the small shuttle. He stood to attention to salute Wolffe. “Lieutenant Fitz safely delivered, sir!”

Wolffe rolled his eyes at the pilot. “At ease, Warthog. When did you suddenly become afflicted with subordination?”

“Just following orders, sir.”

Fitz laughed and shoved the pilot. “Thanks for the lift, Warthog.”

“Anytime. Good to have you back, sir.”

Grim appeared from nowhere and circled slowly around Fitz, leaning in to peer at the now almost healed wound. “Any handover notes?”

“No.”

“Yes.” Eren was holding out a file as she stepped off the shuttle. “Doctor Kella sent this for you.”

Grim took the notes with a smug smile. “Thank you, Commander. It’s nice to have at least one professional officer around here.” He gave a startled yelp when Eren wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “What was that for?”

“Just for being such a good medic and looking after us so well.”

Keeping a suspicious and wary eye on her, Grim opened the file and started reading, a frown crossing his face when he reached the surgical notes. “What’s this about an organic particle?”

Fitz shrugged. “No idea. I was unconscious.”

“Byn said it was nothing to be concerned about,” Eren said. “He’s come across it before and thinks it’s just something to do with the cloning process. A glitch.”

“A glitch?” Wolffe frowned at her. He was already uncomfortable about her referring to some doctor he’d never met by his first name, and now this doctor was saying they had glitches. “We don’t have glitches. We’re clones. That’s the point.”

“But it’s not the point,” Eren argued. “If you were all exactly the same, you’d all be…well…exactly the same.”

She had a point. “Grim, what do those notes say about Fitz’s recovery?”

“No active duty for at least a week.”

“Right, well, make sure he sticks to it.”

“Yes, sir.” Grim seemed to relish the order as he pushed Fitz towards the lift. “Let’s go, sir. I want to check your wound before I get you to your quarters.”

“The notes don’t say restricted to quarters!” Fitz protested.

“No, but I do. Let’s go.”

Wolffe watched them leave, then looked back at Eren. She looked fine, if a little awkward, standing there with her small bag of belongings. He turned her towards the nearest lift. “General Plo’s on his way back from Coruscant. ETA about ten standard hours.”

“Oh. Do we have orders?”

“We’ll find out when he gets back.” He looked at her as they made their way to the wardroom. “Does that doctor really think we’ve got some kind of glitch?”

“Well, he didn’t say it like that. He’s found similar things in other clones with head injuries and just assumed it was a side effect of the cloning process. It makes sense…doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know much about the science.”

“He didn’t think it was anything harmful. Just an inconsistency. I mean, Fitz has been going around like that his whole life and wouldn’t have even known about it if he hadn’t been injured.”

“Hmm…”

In the wardroom, he grabbed mugs from a cabinet and poured them both a caf. He frowned at her under the bright lights. “You look tired.”

“I’m okay.” She took a sip of the bitter caf. “I’m sorry about the other day…about calling you.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you’re right. I shouldn’t be calling you just for a chat, because…well, I just shouldn't.”

“I’m glad you did.”

Eren looked up at him, confused now. “Why?”

“It was nice to hear your voice. It’s not the same around here without you. I even missed your jokes.”

“Now I know you’re stretching the truth,” she said with a smile. “No one misses my jokes.”

“Okay, you got me. I might be exaggerating a little bit.”

“I got a new joke…from one of the troopers there.”

Wolffe pulled a worried face. “You’re going to tell me, aren’t you?”

“How do you make an egg roll?”

“I don’t know. How do you make an egg roll?”

“You push it.”

Wolffe stared blankly at her. “I don’t get it.”

“An egg. You push it. It rolls.”

“Yes, I get that bit. Why is that meant to be funny?”

“You never heard of an egg roll?”

“No.”

“Oh, well, in that case, it’s not funny at all. An egg roll is a snack in some of the diners on Coruscant. Sorry, I’ll try and do better next time.”

“No, it’s okay,” he said. “I think I’ll survive.”

“You’re secretly wishing you could send me back to Ord Cestus, aren’t you?”

“Maybe just a little bit. But it’s good to have you back. And Fitz. Once the general’s back, we can get back to work at full strength.”

“No one put the war on pause while we were gone?”

“Afraid not.” He leaned back against the wall, rubbing idly at his right temple. A glitch. It didn’t make sense. “Our most immediate battle will be keeping Fitz contained.”

Eren woke with a start, catching herself as her cheek slid down smooth plastoid. She blinked, getting her bearings. She was still in the wardroom. And so was Wolffe. He was fast asleep; his head tipped back against the wall. And somehow, she’d gone from leaning against his side to lying with her head practically in his lap. She quickly shifted off him, trying not to wake him. He was tired too. She’d noticed but kept it to herself. She knew why, and it was the same reason she was tired. She studied him in the bright, unforgiving light. His face was relaxed in a way it never was when he was awake. He needed a shave. Ever so gently, she brushed her fingers over his stubbled cheek, over the ridge of scar tissue beneath his right eye. His face twitched lightly, and she quickly removed her hand. Sighing resignedly, she rested her cheek on his shoulder and closed her eyes again. Even if things could never be what she wanted, it was still good to be back here. Back with him.

Chapter Text

Plo Koon studied his padawan as she trained alone in the gym. The Hand of Justice was en route to support the 41st in a campaign in the Outer Rim. Things felt worryingly unstable. The Jedi order was reeling after word got back about the actions of Master Pong Krell – turning clone against clone, killing his own men. He felt a kind of disgust for this former comrade that he’d never imagined feeling. He saw the men under his command as his family, much the same way he saw the Jedi order as his family. He couldn’t imagine wanting to harm any one of them, and he knew his padawan felt the same. She cared deeply for the clones. That’s what worried him, though. Perhaps she cared too deeply. He’d received several worried calls from her as she waited for Fitz to recover, and she’d been hovering over him the past week or so, making sure he didn’t overdo it. She and the lieutenant were close. Very close. Too close. He knew Wolffe had assigned Fitz to guide and mentor Eren in military matters, but the two had struck up a tight friendship, and he worried that perhaps it had developed into something more.

He drew his own lightsaber as he approached her, and she stopped to catch her breath. “Master Plo, is it time for sparring already?”

“I’m a little early. Are you ready?”

She nodded and thumbed off the second blade of her lightsaber. “Ready.”

Plo Koon struck first, and Eren leapt to avoid the blow, swinging her blade to put her master off balance. They weren’t evenly matched; Plo Koon was the superior fighter. But it was all good training for Eren to improve her skills. She was faster, but he was more skilled — more technical. After a long session, Plo Koon deactivated his blade and hooked the hilt back onto his belt. “You are improving, Eren. Your technique is becoming more refined. I know Flin trained you to be fast and agile, but sometimes, a more delicate hand is required.”

Eren switched her own blade off and dropped onto the mats to catch her breath. “I’m getting better with the single blade. It doesn’t come as naturally after so many years with two.”

“I would like you to be as skilled using a single blade as you are with a double. Different situations require different skills.” He sat beside her on the mat. “The men missed you while you were away.”

Eren smiled at him. “I missed them, too. But I’m back now, and Fitz is ready for action again.”

“He was lucky to have made a full recovery.”

“Well, I think that was mainly to do with Doctor Kella.”

“Indeed. He sounds like a skilled surgeon. But I’m sure much of Fitz’s recovery is down to you.”

“Down to me?” Eren turned to face her master, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“You and Fitz are very close. I worry that perhaps you are too close to him. That kind of bond can cause a lapse in judgment.”

Eren shifted uncomfortably on the mat. This was now the second time someone had called attention to her close relationship with Fitz, and it left her feeling embarrassed and uncertain. She was close to Fitz. Very close. But now it seemed as though that closeness looked like something else to others. “I spend a lot of time with Fitz. He’s taught me a lot.”

“He has,” Plo Koon agreed. “But perhaps all that time spent together has developed into…something more.”

She felt her cheeks burning and knew she must be flushed. “I…Master, I promise you, it’s nothing like that. Maybe I’m closer to Fitz than I should be, but…but it’s not what you think. He’s like a close brother to me. And I know that maybe that’s still too close, but—”

“You’re becoming overly worried, Eren. I am not accusing you of anything. I just want you to be mindful. Keep some distance emotionally. I know how much you care for all the men under our command. Just don’t let those feelings cloud your judgement.” He stood and straightened his robes. “I know your intentions are good, Eren. You have a good heart and a kind soul. Perhaps meditate on this, and I will see you on the bridge later.”

“Yes, Master.”

Eren watched her master leave the gym, then dropped her head into her hands, mortified. She couldn’t believe he was counselling her regarding her closeness to Fitz when her preoccupation with Wolffe was the thing that plagued her. She closed her eyes and tried to ground herself. Master Plo was right; meditation would help clear her head and clarify her thoughts. But when she closed her eyes, all she could see was Wolffe, his eyes watching her intently as they always were. She groaned and flopped back on the mat. “Oh fuck....”

When she got to the bridge several hours later, Master Plo and Wolffe were conferring over a chart. She didn’t recognise the system they were examining, but something felt off. Taking a deep breath to ground herself again, she went to the holotable. “Comet said we’re diverting.”

“We received a distress beacon,” Plo Koon said. “We are diverting to see if a rescue is in order.”

“What kind of beacon?”

“Republic Commandos are issued with individual beacons,” Wolffe clarified. “That’s the signal we’re getting. Somewhere in the Abafar system, but we won’t know more until we’re closer.”

Eren leaned in closer to examine the chart. “So, there’s a commando needing help?”

“Not necessarily,” Wolffe said with a frown. “I’m waiting to hear back from Fleet. No one ever really knows where commandos are deployed except for Special Ops. Everything they do is classified. It’ll take time to get a straight answer from anyone, but we can’t ignore it either.”

Eren looked at her master. “What about Master Unduli?”

“Master Unduli has been advised. She has things in hand for now.”

She knew it was a tenuous balance, potentially risking a large number of men for a mysterious beacon. But it was good to know that one man still mattered as an individual enough to go and investigate. “What happens if Fleet confirms there’s a commando there?”

“Then we mount a rescue,” Wolffe said determinedly. “If there’s a brother in trouble, we need to help him.”

Eren looked up from her datapad when she heard footsteps. Wolffe came into the wardroom with a grim look on his face. “Fleet came back. Finally. Looks like we need to go down and check out the beacon.”

She frowned at his expression. “But? There’s something else?”

“Skywalker just got a transmission through. They need a pickup on Kadavo, and we’re the closest.”

“What’s on Kadavo?”

“Some kind of slave facility. He and Kenobi went undercover to break up a slave racket and managed to get themselves captured.”

“Oh.” Eren stood to pour him a caf. Sometimes Wolffe could be so uncompromising. “I’m sure they didn’t mean to get captured. Freeing slaves is pretty important.”

He nodded as he sat with his mug. “I know. It’s just…we’re spread thin enough as it is. We’re supposed to be providing backup to Gree. We need to investigate that beacon. And now this. It’s all of us…the whole army. Maybe we’re just not enough to win this war.”

“But…we have to keep fighting, Wolffe. We have to.”

“I’m not giving up,” he said, seeing how worried she was. “Just venting. We just never seem to make a big enough dent in the Sep’s overall strategy.”

“Does anyone even know what that is anymore?”

“Probably not.” He gulped down the rest of his caf. “We’ll hit Kadavo in a couple of hours. We’ll have to see what we’re up against before we make a plan.”

Wolffe stood on the bridge with Admiral Coburn, watching their fighters make the first assault on the slave facility on Kadavo. General Plo was leading the fighters as they tried to disarm the turrets that housed the turbo cannons. It didn’t take long to see they were ray shielded. Eren was out there, darting and weaving in her Delta. He sighed and rolled his eyes, wishing that he’d put a stop to her lessons with Warthog. She’d picked up his recklessness in the air.

He cursed to himself when he saw the Zygerrians take to the air to protect the turrets, watching anxiously to make sure Eren stayed out of their way. But it was General Plo who made him curse out loud as he shut down his engines to get in behind an enemy fighter and blast it out of the air. Sometimes the Jedi were too reckless for their own good.

Following Admiral Coburn’s orders, he took a squad out to help Commander Tano bring the Togruta slaves to safety. Once everyone was aboard the cruiser, he made his way to the hangar to check on the aerial squad. To his relief, Eren was already there, docking her Delta alongside the general’s. He saw Warthog climb out of his Headhunter and go over to shove her playfully. He hadn’t been listening in on comms, but he could only imagine her language had something to do with it. She shoved him back before following her master to the gunship that had just docked to allow Skywalker, Kenobi and Tano to pile out. And Rex. Wolffe waited for the Jedi to make themselves scarce before approaching the captain. Rex looked battered and bruised. But he was alive. He stopped and looked him up and down. “Come on, I’ll take you to medical.”

Rex shook his head. “Not on this ship. I’ve heard about your medic.”

“Grim? Good man. Good medic.”

Rex winced as he ran a hand over his bruised jaw. “Your pilot had comms on,” he said, indicating the gunship he’d just been aboard. “Commander Kilyc certainly knows a word or two.”

Wolffe hesitated. Word would start filtering out that he had a padawan who cursed in ways that were still a little shocking to him. He just nodded as he walked with Rex towards the lifts. “Yeah, they come out of her when she’s under pressure. We’re used to her now.”

Rex gave his brother a sidelong glance as they took the lift up. Wolffe’s whole face softened when he talked about his padawan now. He didn’t seem angry or frustrated by her presence anymore. If anything, he sensed a kind of protectiveness. Fondness almost. “Well, thanks for the save. Where to now for you boys?”

“Abafar system. We got a hit on a beacon coming from there. Need to check it out.”

“Abafar? We don’t have any forces there, do we?”

“There was some kind of covert op gone wrong. SOB aren’t saying much, except that we need to check it out.”

“Hmm.” Rex followed Wolffe into the wardroom, where an officer was already pouring mugs of hot caf. “Fitz, what happened to your head?”

“Got blown up,” Fitz said matter-of-factly. “All good now, though.”

“Blown up?”

Fitz nodded as he joined them at the table. “Yeah, I really made a show of it, so the stories say. A surgeon at Ord Cestus fixed me up. I had a few bits of skull fragment floating around in there.”

Rex winced as he took a sip of caf. “Sounds like you were lucky to find a surgeon to get you sorted.”

“Well, I had Commander Kilyc there to keep an eye on things.”

“He had some kind of organic particle in his brain,” Wolffe added. “You ever hear anything like that, Rex? The surgeon’s seen it before and thinks it’s some kind of cloning glitch.”

“A glitch? We don’t have glitches.”

“That’s what I said. Apparently, it’s nothing to worry about, and Fitz seems fine.”

“I am fine,” Fitz reiterated. “Ready and raring to go.”

“Not for another week.”

“Five days. Having a brain injury doesn’t mean I can’t count.”

Wolffe exchanged a long-suffering look with Rex. “You see what I have to put up with?”

Rex chuckled as he reached for the caf pot. “I’ll take Fitz off your hands if you take Skywalker.”

“Absolutely not.”

Eren blinked at Master Plo’s suggestion. Master Unduli needed help more urgently, and Master Plo had just suggested that Eren take a shuttle to check out the tracking beacon in the Abafar system. With Wolffe. Just the two of them. “Shouldn’t we take a few squads with us?”

“Not until we know what is going on there. This could be some kind of trap, and the two of you can get in there without raising any flags.”

“Well…you’ll need Wolffe, won’t you? I could take Fitz and—”

“Fitz is still recovering. Wolffe is trained for covert missions such as this.”

Eren nodded obediently. “Yes, Master.”

She stopped by her cabin to grab a bag of belongings, then went down to the hangar where Wolffe was waiting by a nondescript transport. He looked at the bag she was carrying. “Got a change of clothes?”

“Why?”

“In case you need to look less like a Jedi.”

“Oh…yes, I have enough.” She followed him aboard and into the cockpit. “Are we going undercover?”

“Not unless we need to. We’ll have to scope things out when we get there.”

“Okay. As long as it’s not a dancing girl again.”

“I think we can both agree on that.”

“Yes, well, I know what you think of my dancing.”

Wolffe knew exactly what she was referring to. He would always regret the accusations he’d drunkenly flung at her at 79’s. He stayed silent as he waited for the hangar to open, drifting them out into space. He set the coordinates for the Abafar system and shoved the lever forward to put them into hyperspace. He thought back to that night and the fallout. It occurred to him that he hadn’t given a second thought to her roundabout admission to an intimate relationship with her Zabrak friend. Too much had happened since then. But now he was thinking about it, and it bothered him. He hated that someone else got to be close to her in a way that he never could. He glanced over at her. “It’s not your dancing I have a problem with.”

“Well…why were you so angry at me that night?”

“Look, I already apologised for that. I was drunk and I said some things I shouldn’t have said.”

“That doesn’t explain why you said them.”

“It doesn’t explain why you were all over that Zabrak either. I thought that went against the Jedi code or something.”

Eren stared at him, mortified. “I…it…I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

“Suit yourself.”

She sat fuming for a moment, then she unstrapped her safety harness and climbed out of the cockpit. It didn’t help much, though. There was nowhere to go. The ship was barely big enough to have its own hyperdrive and consisted of the cockpit and a small cabin. She paced back and forth, muttering curses under her breath. After a minute, she looked up, and Wolffe was there, watching her from the hatch. She opened her mouth to berate him, to tell him off, but all she saw on his face was regret. Remorse. “Wolffe, I may be a Jedi, but I’m still a real living being. I have all the same thoughts and impulses and needs as any other person. Growing up at the Temple…well, we all found our own way of dealing with things. Rak’hin and I made a deal…an arrangement that suited us both. That’s it.”

Wolffe took a step closer to her. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I know I’m not entitled to that. And I’m sorry. Again.”

“You don’t have to apologise again. I know this is…this is…”

“This is what?”

“This is hard, Wolffe. I know it’s hard for you, and it is for me too. And I don’t know how to manage things.” She sank down onto the hard bench along the bulkhead and looked sadly up at him. “We’re stuck in this situation, and I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this.”

Wolffe sat beside her. It still didn’t make sense to him that she had the same feelings for him that he had for her. He’d always seen the Jedi as almost otherworldly…above the needs and desires of regular people. And, as kind and compassionate as Plo Koon was, there was still a distance between the clones and him. But then Eren came along with her self-doubt, her terrible jokes and a desire to learn and fit in. She was real. She was real, and she had feelings for him that were causing her all kinds of internal struggles. She was real, and she was hurting. He reached for her hand and wrapped his fingers around hers. “You have to go on. You can’t get hung up on whatever it is you feel about me. Just like I have to go on, even though…”

“Even though what?”

“Even though every moment I spend with you is hard because it can never be the way I want it to be. For either of us. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Yeah. It’s pretty fucked up, isn’t it?”

“It is pretty fucked up,” he agreed.

She tilted her head to look up at him. “If we stay like this, we’ll fall asleep.”

“Yeah.” Wolffe got to his feet, keeping a hold of her hand to pull her up. He frowned down at her. “Okay?”

“Yes.”

He kept hold of her hand, and his other hand almost unconsciously reached out to toy with the beads at the end of her braid. “You can’t let this distract you. You have to try and…”

He trailed off as Eren stretched up to press her lips to his. Fleetingly, he knew he needed to pull away, to put a stop to it. But instead, he put his arms around her, pulling he close, kissing her the way he’d been wanting to for a long time. And she responded, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, holding onto him. And he would have held onto her forever if the alarm in the cockpit hadn’t started blaring, making them leap guiltily apart. He ducked into the cockpit and switched off the alarm. “Coming up on Abafar. Strap in.”

Eren did as she was instructed and strapped back in as Wolffe dropped the shuttle out of hyperspace over the planet of Abafar. “Now what?”

“Now, we home in on the signal and check it out. We need to focus on the job.”

Eren nodded as she took the datapad he handed her to track the signal. “Do you think we’ll find anything?”

“I hope so. If there’s a trooper out there, we’ll find him.”

Chapter Text

Eren pulled her robe off and carefully tucked her lightsaber into a pocket of her trousers. She took the cap Wolffe handed her and tucked her braid up into it. “Okay?”

Wolffe stood back and looked at her. “It’ll do. This is just a quick trip into town to do a recce. You’re not to do anything without me. Clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“Sorry. But Wolffe, I can look after myself. You don’t have to worry.”

“Just stick to the plan. Keep me posted.”

Eren saluted him and slipped out of the ship and onto the road that led into the town of Pons Ora. She looked down at the tracker clutched in her hand, the light flashing to tell her the beacon was still transmitting. The glare of the stark desert landscape made her squint as she drew closer to the settlement. It was hot, dry and unpleasant. She screwed up her nose as she slipped past a diner called Power Sliders. It smelled as unpleasant as it looked. Keeping her head down, she wandered through the town, trying to look as though she belonged there. She glanced at the tracker again – the light was flashing faster. She was getting closer. This wasn’t a residential area. This place was dedicated to mining, and she knew she needed to be cautious. She’d stand out here. She saw some mine workers coming towards her and slipped into an alley, surprised when the beacon began to flash faster. She looked around, frustrated by the sheer, windowless walls rising up around her. She stayed in the shadows as the workers went by, then leapt up onto the roof of the nearest building. Staying low, she crawled across the rooftop, stopping when she sensed something. She lay on her stomach and slithered up to a small window, carefully peering in. She gave a surprised gasp at what she saw, then slithered back, out of sight. Crawling away from the window, she raised her comlink to make a whispered call. “Wolffe, I think I found him.”

“On my way.”

She crawled back to peer through the window again. There was a small room. Basic. And, on a small cot in a corner lay a man. But it wasn’t just any man. He was a clone. Unmistakably so. His head was wrapped in bandages, and he was asleep. Or unconscious. Maybe even dead. Knowing Wolffe wouldn’t be far away, she crawled back to the edge of the building. Sure enough, within a few minutes, she saw him slip into the alley. But he looked different. He was out of armor, dressed in a civilian outfit. Nondescript dark colours, with a half helmet that kept the upper portion of his face obscured. He could be any kind of dodgy dealer in the galaxy. She saw him looking around and waved to get his attention. He looked frustrated by her position. He didn’t have his ascension cable with him. But Eren leaned over and reached towards him, using the Force to pull him up onto the roof. Wolffe raised the cheap visor and gave her an approving look. “You’re getting better at that.”

“I’ve been practising on Boost. This way.”

Wolffe followed as she crawled back towards the small window. He tried not to look at her bottom, but he couldn’t help but remember her drunkenly asking him if he thought she had a nice ass. She did. He knew that after seeing her in her dancing girl outfit, but it wasn’t the kind of thing he could bring up now or ever. They took up positions on either side of the window, and Wolffe leaned around to peer in. Eren watched him as he assessed the situation, then he silently directed her back to the edge of the roof. He pulled the cheap helmet off and exhaled loudly. “Fuck.”

“Do you know him?”

“I can’t tell from up here. He’s not in good shape, though.”

“We can’t just blast in there if he’s not able to move.”

“No.”

“Do we call for backup?”

“That’ll take too long.” He frowned to himself as he thought. “He doesn’t look like a prisoner in there. It looks like someone’s taking care of him. Maybe we just go and knock politely and ask.”

Eren gave him a sceptical look. “Maybe I should do that bit.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes at her. “I do have the ability to be polite, you know. I just save it for special occasions. Now, how am I supposed to get down from here?”

Eren managed to keep a straight face as she used the Force to lift Wolffe off the rooftop and lower him to the ground, before jumping down to join him. He still looked offended at her suggestion that he couldn’t be polite. She looked down the dark end of the alleyway. “Now we just need to find the right door to knock on.”

“Yeah.” Wolffe led the way, blaster in hand as they went deeper into the alley. It was long and narrow, and the only way out was up if they got cornered. When they reached the end of the alley, they found it split off into several other narrow lanes. Wolffe glanced back towards the roof they’d been on, trying to decide which lane to take. He grabbed her hand and pulled her down the nearest one to his left. “This way.”

Eren didn’t have time to wonder why he was holding her hand; he was moving fast, and she had to jog to keep up with him. Out of armor, he wasn’t wearing gloves, and his fingers were warm wrapped around hers. They reached the end of the alley where it opened onto a different road. There were a few shops, a shabby looking tapcaf, a couple of people wandering the street. Wolffe kept her hand in his as they stepped out into the street, making them look like a couple out doing whatever couples did. Neither of them really knew. He leaned down to whisper, “Can you tell which door?”

Eren sharpened her focus, then nodded at a door several buildings along. “That one.”

“Okay…”

Hand in hand, they approached the door, and Wolffe hesitated only briefly before knocking. After several minutes, an old Sullustan woman answered the door. She looked them up and down suspiciously, squinting her old eyes as she peered up at Wolffe, then she nodded approvingly. “You have come for him.”

Wolffe looked back at her, equally suspiciously. “That depends on who’s asking.”

Exasperated with Wolffe, Eren offered the old woman a smile. “Did you activate the beacon?”

The woman nodded and beckoned them inside. “I found him. Almost dead, he was.”

Inside the humble house, Wolffe seemed to realise he was still holding Eren’s hand and quickly dropped it. “What happened to him?”

“I don’t know. There was an explosion at a freight platform near here. I found his body and brought him here. Come.”

Wolffe and Eren followed the woman upstairs to the small room they’d seen through the window. Eren looked back down the narrow staircase. “How did you get him up here?”

“I am stronger than I look.”

Inside the room, the injured clone was exactly where they’d seen him. The woman pointed to the pile of armor in a corner. “I found the beacon in his things. I knew someone would come eventually.”

Wolffe squatted by the bed to examine the injured man. He was unconscious, battered and bruised. And he had some healing burns as well. But it was the head injury that worried him. “How long’s he been like this?”

“Two weeks. He wakes sometimes…confused. We have no doctors here. I’ve done the best I can.”

Eren gave the woman a grateful smile before joining Wolffe. “Do you know who he is?”

Wolffe nodded grimly. “Yeah. Gregor. He’s a commando attached to Cody’s unit. He’s been MIA for a while now. SOB must have known something to get us to come here.”

“We need to get him to the ship and take him to a medical unit.”

Wolffe nodded and got to his feet. “I’ll take his gear first. You stay with him.”

Eren watched as he bundled up the damaged armor and helmet. She knew how important those things were to a trooper. They represented the clone’s individual identity amongst their brothers. Once he’d gone, Eren smiled at the woman again. “It was very kind of you to take him in and care for him.”

The woman just nodded. “I had a boy once. The Separatists killed him.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

The woman beckoned her back downstairs. “Come. I will make you tea.”

Eren followed the woman back downstairs. Stopping for tea would make Wolffe irritable, but she felt a duty to at least sit for five minutes with the woman who’d gone out of her way to save a clone. But she’d barely taken a sip when Wolffe slipped back through the door with a grim expression. “We’ve got a problem. Sep shuttle just landed. They’re patrolling the streets.”

Eren put her tea down and went to the small window to peek out. He was right. Droid patrols were moving around in small squads. “I thought they’d pulled out of Abafar now that the rhydonium’s tapped out.”

“They still like to come back every so often,” the woman said. “Just to remind us of our place.”

Eren looked at Wolffe. “What do we do? We can’t get him to the ship without being seen.”

“You will stay here,” the woman said firmly. “They are usually only here for a day or so, then they leave again.”

“Looks like we don’t have much choice,” Wolffe said. “Even if we called for backup, it’ll take a while.”

“Sit,” the woman ordered Wolffe. “I will make you food.”

Wolffe sat. He wasn’t used to being ordered around by a middle-aged woman. Eren peeked out the window again. “They don’t go door to door, do they?”

“No,” the woman said, bustling about over her small stove. “They leave us to go about our business.”

Eren sat back at the table next to Wolffe, and the woman sat opposite them. She scrutinised Wolffe thoroughly, so he gave up trying to maintain his disguise and pulled the helmet off. “You are a clone like the one upstairs,” she said finally. Then she looked at Eren. “What about you?”

“Um…I’m a Jedi. A padawan. I’m Eren. This is Wolffe.” She could feel Wolffe giving her one of his looks, but she ignored him. She could trust this woman.

“I am Anju,” the woman said. She got up to serve whatever she was cooking, laying plates loaded with good-smelling food in front of them. “Eat.”

Later that night, the woman, Anju, shoved blankets into their arms and pointed to the stairs. “You will have to make do upstairs. It’s all I have.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind,” Eren said, pushing Wolffe up the stairs ahead of her before he could say anything. “See you in the morning.”

Upstairs, Wolffe looked around the small room where the clone commando lay asleep along one wall. “Where are we supposed to sleep?”

“On the floor. It’ll be fine.”

While Wolffe arranged the blankets on the floor, Eren went to kneel by the commando lying on the cot. He looked peaceful. She felt sad for him that he’d been alone out here, away from his brothers. With his head bandaged, he reminded her of how Fitz had looked when he was injured. “We should take him to Ord Cestus,” she said back over her shoulder. “Byn will know what to do.”

“That surgeon? The one who thinks we have glitches?”

“He specialises in head trauma, Wolffe. He can help.”

“I suppose. We have to get him out of here first.”

“And we will as soon as the droid patrols have gone.” She crawled over to the blankets on the floor. “Why are you upset about Doctor Kella?”

Wolffe tried not to roll his eyes. He hated the way she could see straight through him. He sat beside her on the hard floor, not much cushioned by the thin blankets. “Because we spent our lives being poked and prodded by the Kaminoans, tested and examined. The one thing they always told us was that we were the perfect products. Faultless. When I lost my eye, I thought…” He trailed off when he saw the way Eren was looking at him, when he saw the tears in her eyes. “Sorry. None of this is your fault. It’s just, we don’t have many ways to value ourselves…”

“That’s not true, Wolffe. You know it’s not. Whatever the Kaminoans told you about your worth…it’s not true. I’ve gotten to know you all, and I know it’s not true. There’s so much more to you than a scientifically perfect soldier. I know there’s more to you than that.”

She was upset, and he wanted nothing more than to comfort her. But he kept his hands to himself. He needed to be the one to put a stop to this – to put some distance between them. Especially here, where they were away from the usual expectations and prying eyes. He reached down to pull his boots off. “We should get some sleep.”

“Yeah.”

Eren pulled her own boots off, took her lightsaber from her pocket and laid it beside her before trying to make herself comfortable on the floor. She curled up under a blanket while Wolffe got up to switch off the light before lying down next to her. He grabbed one of the other blankets for himself. It wasn’t freezing, but it wasn’t particularly warm either. He’d slept in worse conditions. Much worse. He glanced over at Eren – he could just make her out in the tiny bit of light coming through the small window. She was lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, and she looked troubled. That was his fault. He’d upset her, and he never wanted to do that. But it was a reminder of how much she cared about them — about all the clones. He saw it all the time in her words and actions. And more than that, it was a reminder that she cared for him. Right or wrong. She really was too soft for this war. But he knew now that he’d hate to be fighting it without her. She’d become more important to him than he could ever have imagined, and it was likely to get them both into trouble. But for now, they were managing somehow. Feeling guilty, he reached for her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Eren rolled over to face him. “It’s not you, Wolffe. It’s everything…all of this. It’s not fair. It’s wrong.”

“Maybe. But this is what it is, and we have to make the best of it.” He released her hand and made sure she was properly covered by the blanket. “Warm enough?”

“Yes. Goodnight, Wolffe.”

“Night.”

Wolffe woke several hours later. Eren was restless beside him, tossing and turning. He reached for her hand again, worried when he felt how cold it was. He tried to pull the blankets back over her, but she pushed his hands away with a tearful cry. “No…no…Master Aryn…please…”

She was having a nightmare. He gently shook her shoulder. “Eren, wake up. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Her eyes flew open, and she gasped. She took a few deep breaths as she got her bearings, surprised when she saw Wolffe leaning over her with a worried frown. “What happened?”

“It’s okay. You were having a nightmare.”

“Oh… Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“No. It’s fine.”

He watched her as she tried to get comfortable again, curling up on the hard floor. She shivered as she shuffled around, pulling the blanket up to her chin. Wolffe frowned again. She needed to sleep. They both did. He moved closer to her, laying his blanket over both of them. As though drawn to his warmth, Eren snuggled closer to him. Giving up on his plan to keep his distance, he put his arm around her and pulled her back against his chest. There was still her blanket between them, but he heard the contented sigh as she settled in against him, her hair softly brushing against his chin. “Thank you, Wolffe.”

He didn’t say anything. You’re welcome, didn’t seem to cover it. Tired, he let himself relax. This was wrong. They shouldn’t be doing this. But the night would soon be over, and they could go back to pretending there was nothing there.

Chapter Text

Wolffe watched with a suspicious scowl as Eren greeted the surgeon. It was a little too friendly for his liking. The surgeon grasped Eren’s hand with both of his. “It’s good to see you again, Eren. Although I wasn’t expecting you so soon. How’s Lieutenant Fitz?”

“He’s fine. Happy to be back on duty.” She gave Wolffe a pointed look, so he left Gregor to join her. “Byn, this is Commander Wolffe. Wolffe, this is Doctor Byn Kella.”

Wolffe shook the doctor’s hand perfunctorily, earning him a dirty look from Eren as Kella looked past them to the open hatch of the small shuttle. “Got a patient for me?”

“Captain Gregor,” Eren said. “He’s a commando. All we know is that he was injured in an explosion. A civilian took him in.”

Kella squatted to examine the patient. “How long has he been like this?”

“A couple of weeks,” Wolffe said. He could see what Eren had seen now. This man had a genuine concern for Gregor’s well-being. “The woman said he’d woken a few times, but he hasn’t since we picked him up.”

“Alright.” Kella nodded to a couple of orderlies to transfer the injured commando to a repulsor stretcher. “First things first – we’ll unwrap those bandages and see what we’re dealing with.”

Wolffe stood for a moment, watching as Eren walked with the doctor following the stretcher. He felt unreasonably irritated, and he was beginning to wonder if whatever afflicted Neyo was starting to affect him as well. Shaking his head at his own inexplicable mood, he followed the others to a room within the medical station where a large scanner was set up. The doctor pulled on a pair of surgical gloves and carefully removed the bandages from Gregor’s head. Wolffe peered over his shoulder, surprised to see that the commando’s head was completely intact, just some minor burns. He’d been expecting worse, but commandos had superior armor compared to the regular troopers. His bucket had protected him from the worst of it. Unlike Fitz.

Kella gently prodded around a bruised swelling on the right side of Gregor’s head. “This needs looking at.”

The two orderlies slid the stretcher onto the scanner platform, and Eren grabbed Wolffe’s arm to pull him out of the way to give Kella space to examine the screen. The doctor frowned as he studied the scan of Gregor’s head. He pointed to the screen. “This looks like that same organic particle Fitz had. It’s not in the same place, though. That could be a result of the head trauma. I’m more worried about the cerebral oedema.”

“The what?”

“Swelling on the brain. If he was caught in an explosion, his armor would have taken the worst of it. But the impact would have been significant. We’ll get him into surgery to relieve that. We won’t know what effect it’s had until he comes round.”

As the platform slid out again, the commando’s eyes flickered, then opened. He was blinking rapidly, disoriented. He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was so hoarse that Wolffe had to lean in close to hear. “CC…five…five…uh…sev…nine…”

Wolffe grabbed the commando’s hands with his own. “Easy, Gregor. You’re okay now. You’re safe, brother.”

Gregor looked at him, his eyes glazed and confused, before he lapsed into unconsciousness again. Kella checked the injured man’s pulse, satisfied that he was alright for now. “Was that his designation number?”

Wolffe nodded. “Yeah. Most of it.”

“Well, that’s a positive sign. Means his memory isn’t gone.” He waved the orderlies over. “Get him prepped for surgery. I’ll be right there. Eren, Commander Wolffe, are you staying?”

“We can’t,” Eren lamented. “We’re needed elsewhere. But I know you’ll look after him.”

“I will. You know he’s in safe hands.”

“We’ve let Special Ops know he’s been transferred here,” Wolffe added. “They’ll liaise with you to arrange a return to Coruscant when he’s ready. That’s if—”

“I’ll do the best I can,” Kella rushed to assure him. “I’ll keep you posted.”

Eren stopped to squeeze the commando’s fingers. “Good luck, Captain. Maybe I’ll get to meet you properly one day.” She followed Wolffe back to their ship and took a seat in the cockpit. She watched Wolffe as he started up the drives. He was worried. She could feel it. And she knew why. He was worried Captain Gregor would be sent back to Kamino. “Try not to worry, Wolffe. Byn will look after him. He won’t let him be sent away.”

Wolffe said nothing as he guided the ship out of the medical station hangar, then he paused, looking at Eren. “You really trust him?”

“Yes.”

He launched the ship into hyperspace, back on their way to rejoin the 104th.
“Well, I guess he seems okay. Let’s wait and see how Gregor goes.”

“Any word on Captain Gregor?”

Eren shook her head as she put a mug of caf in front of Fitz and took a seat across from him. “Not since he came out of surgery. I think his injuries were worse than yours.”

“Well, you know what commandos are like.”

“Not really. What are they like?”

“A different breed. Bigger. Stronger. They’re trained to work alone or in small squads, so they made them tough.”

“Maybe that means he’ll recover better as well. Wolffe said the rest of his squad was killed, and he’s been missing a long time.”

“You know if he doesn’t recover…”

“I know. But Master Plo won’t let that happen.”

“Master Plo is just one man. He can only do so much.”

“Well…then I’ll do something.”

Fitz was sceptical. “Eren, that might be a bit optimistic.”

“Look, we don’t even know how he is. I’ll call Byn tomorrow and check in.” She rested her chin in her hands. “It’s weird, isn’t it? There are people like Byn out there who know all about you and do anything they can to help, but most of the galaxy really don’t know anything about you at all.”

“I like to maintain a mysterious aura about me,” Fitz said with a wink.

“Oh, shut up,” she said, rolling up a piece of flimsi to toss at him. “It’s important. What happens to you all when the war ends?”

“Doesn’t that depend on who wins?”

“That’s what Wolffe said.”

“What’s what I said?” They both looked over to see Wolffe in the doorway, a suspicious scowl on his face. “Fitz, shouldn’t you be finishing those reports?”

“Finished, signed off by Coburn and submitted to Fleet.”

Wolffe grunted something unintelligible as he poured himself caf and sat. “So…what’s what I said?”

“We were just talking about the future,” Eren offered, sensing Wolffe’s surly mood. “I said that you said it depends on who wins.”

“The future? That’s just a vague concept for clones. No one planned for a future beyond this war.”

“Doesn’t mean a man can’t dream,” Fitz said.

“Dreaming’s a waste of time. It won’t get you anywhere.” Wolffe finished his caf, and thunked the empty mug down on the table. “I need you on the bridge when you’ve finished your daydreaming session. Both of you.”

Once he’d gone, Eren looked at Fitz, who looked just as bewildered as she felt. “What was that about?” she whispered, worried that Wolffe could still be within earshot.

“Just one of his moods, I guess. They eased up a bit when you arrived. You take a lot of stress off him. But I guess he’s having a bad day.”

“Well…we all have those.” She wasn’t convinced, though. “Master Plo said we’d be going back home for a few days soon. Maybe he just needs a night out.”

“I doubt it. He was pretty dirty after the last one.”

Eren winced inwardly. Their last shore leave had gone badly for both of them, and they were still dealing with the fallout. “Maybe he needs to learn to meditate.”

Fitz almost snorted caf out of his nose. “If you can convince him to mediate, I will give you my dessert rations for the duration of this war.”

Eren narrowed her eyes at him. “You think I can’t?”

“I think it’s highly unlikely.”

“I can be very convincing.”

“No one can be that convincing.” He stood and grabbed his helmet. “Come on, we’d better get up there before he decides to start doling out punishments for lateness.”

Eren hesitated before knocking. Wolffe’s mood hadn’t improved over recent days, and he might not appreciate a visit. But she rolled her shoulders back and knocked, surprised when his voice called out, “Come in.”

The door hissed open, and she tentatively peeked inside. Wolffe was at his small desk in his black undersuit, a frown on his face as he studied a datapad. He looked up, doing little to disguise his surprise at seeing her there. “Commander, something wrong?”

“No. Everything’s fine, I…I just…”

“You just what?”

“I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Eren sighed. He was being obtuse. Ignoring his frown, she sidled into his cabin and perched on the bunk. “You just don’t seem yourself at the moment. Ever since we came back from the med station. If you’re worried about Captain Gregor, I can call Byn and—”

“I’m sure Gregor’s in very safe hands.”

“Well…is it something else? Something you want to talk about?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t know why you’re in here making a drama out of nothing.”

He turned back to his datapad, and she watched as he made a show of reading whatever was on the screen. That was her cue to leave. But she didn’t leave. She sat quietly, eyes on him, until he finally gave in and dropped the datapad. “Something else?”

“Master Plo said we’ll have a few days on Coruscant…a few days leave.”

“He told me.”

“If you were planning to go to 79’s, you don’t have to worry about me going. I’ve learned my lesson. So—”

“What lesson?”

“Well, every time I go there, I end up making a fool of myself.”

“You didn’t last time.”

“Didn’t I?”

“That was on me. I’m responsible. You don’t have to stay away because of me. I’m not sure that sitting in there drinking that rotgut is what I need anyway.”

“What do you need?”

Wolffe looked at her, then he blinked. “What?”

“What do you need, Wolffe. I can tell you’re not yourself. I want to help.”

“I don’t need any help, Commander. Right now, I just need to get these reports done before we hit Triple Zero.”

“Fine. I can help with that.”

Before he could say anything, Eren had reached across him to grab another datapad. He tried to grab it back, but she evaded him. “I can take care of these myself.”

“But you don’t need to. I’m helping.”

“You should be sleeping.”

“So should you. And the sooner we get these reports done, the sooner we can do that.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes as he looked back at his own datapad. “You’re getting insubordinate.”

“I’m the same rank as you. It doesn’t count.”

He rolled his eyes again. “Sometimes, I think I preferred you when you kept your opinions to yourself.”

Eren looked at him, surprised. “Really?”

“No, not really,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

“Taking what out on me.”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

Eren put her datapad down. “It does matter. What’s going on?” Wolffe said nothing, keeping his eyes on the datapad in front of him. But Eren was persistent and reached over to take it from him, putting it out of his reach before he could snatch it back. “Tell me.”

He glared at her for a beat, then slumped down with a frustrated sigh. “Nothing a few good nights’ sleep wouldn’t fix. Sometimes, it’s hard to switch off.”

“Well…you have a lot of responsibility. It’s bound to catch up with you. Why don’t you sleep now, and I’ll finish these reports.”

Wolffe gave her an unimpressed look. “Because you need to sleep too. You look as tired as I feel.”

“I don’t look that bad, do I?”

“Very funny.”

“That wasn’t a joke.” She shifted over on his bunk and patted the thin mattress next to her. “Sit.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “Why?”

“Just sit.”

Grumbling under his breath, he moved to sit beside her. “Now what?”

“Close your eyes.”

“I’m not closing my eyes.”

“Well, no wonder you can’t sleep.”

Wolffe gave her another unimpressed look. “I don’t have time for—”

“Just close your eyes,” she said impatiently, putting her hand over his eyes. “Trust me.”

“You know I trust you.”

“Then close your eyes.” She removed her hand, pleased to see he’d closed his eyes. But his brow was still creased by a frown, the lines cutting through the scar above his eye. She placed a hand on either side of his head, thumbs resting on his temples. “Now breathe.”

“I am breathing. I always breathe.”

Eren swore under her breath. “You’re not making this easy, Wolffe.”

“Making what easy? What are you trying to achieve here?”

“I’m trying to help you clear your mind so you can get some rest!”

Wolffe opened his eyes and stared at her. “You’re going to wipe my mind?”

“What? No! I don’t even know how to do that.”

“Well, what are you trying to do?”

“I already told you. Now close your eyes and stop interrupting.” Sighing, Wolffe rolled his eyes again before closing them. Eren sat on her knees, her hands still resting on his head. “Now breathe again. Focus on each breath and slow them down. In…and out…”

She kept her voice low and quiet as she guided him through the basics of meditation, pleased when his breathing slowed down to a calm, steady rhythm. “Now, think about a place in your mind.”

“What place?”

“Well…I don’t know. A place that makes you feel happy…calm…”

“I don’t know any places like that.”

Sighing, Eren tried to control her own frustration. “Fine, let’s just focus on the breathing then.” She closed her own eyes, letting herself go to the place that worked for her, synchronising her breathing with his. Focused now, she let the energy flow through her body, tingling along her arms and through her hands.

She felt Wolffe jerk under her hands, then his quiet voice. “What are you doing?”

“Shh. Just breathe.”

She felt him relax again, his breathing steadying out as the calm energy flowed between them. After several minutes, she opened her eyes to see that his shoulders had dropped, and the lines across his forehead had softened. She kept her hands in position, letting the energy flow through her until she felt his head tip back against the bulkhead. She slowly withdrew her hands, satisfied to see his eyes stayed closed, and his breathing stayed steady. He was asleep – half slumped against the bulkhead by his bunk – but asleep, nevertheless. Pleased with a job well done, she picked up his datapad, scanning over it to see where he was at, before making herself comfortable to finish the reports.

When Wolffe woke up, there was something hard and uncomfortable digging into his ribs. He reached down and pulled out a datapad, almost dropping it when his hand brushed against skin. His eyes flew open, then he closed them, wondering if he was dreaming. But when he opened them again, she was still there. Eren was squeezed onto the bunk beside him, fast asleep. He went to wake her, but then he remembered. She’d come to his cabin to help him sleep – and she had. But she’d been tired as well. She needed to sleep. He watched her for a while. Her face relaxed when she slept – all the worry lines softened. Asleep, she didn’t look like a young padawan caught up in a war the Jedi probably shouldn’t be fighting. They were peacekeepers as she so often reminded him. But the war was taking a toll on her, as it was on all of them. He brushed a wisp of hair gently from her forehead. He didn’t want her to feel the kind of emotional pain he knew she felt. She cared too much. And he didn’t want her to be injured again. He didn’t think he could bear to see her in pain again. Not now. He’d do anything to protect her from that. He’d kill for her, and if he needed to, he’d die for her. That was what he’d been trained to do – to give himself in service – but she made it feel worthwhile. He knew it was a bleak, fatalistic view, but something about it made him feel better about his existence. Being close to her made everything right. He was about to sit up when her eyes flickered open, just inches from his own. She took a moment, getting her bearings, and then she remembered. “Sorry… I was trying to finish the reports.”

“I’ll get them done.”

“Yeah…” She tried to sit up but almost slipped off the edge of the narrow bunk. Wolffe grabbed her and pulled her back, close enough so that their bodies were touching. Her eyes met his, not sure where else to look. “Thanks.”

“It’s okay.”

“I should go.” But she didn’t move, and neither did Wolffe, his arm still holding onto her to keep her in place.

“Eren…”

“Yes?”

“I…this isn’t—”

They both froze when the door buzzed, then she quickly jerked away from him and got to her feet, smoothing her robes down. She grabbed one of the datapads and sat at his desk, trying to compose herself while Wolffe got up to answer the door. Fitz was there, a strange expression crossing his face when he looked beyond his commanding officer to see Eren sitting at the small desk. “Well, that explains why I couldn’t find either of you in the wardroom.”

“Just finishing reports,” Wolffe said. “It’s quieter here.”

“I’m just coming off duty,” Fitz said, seemingly accepting the explanation. “General Plo’s on the bridge.”

“Fine. I’ll head up there now. Anything to report?”

“Nope. Everything’s peachy. ETA Trip Zip in eight standard.”

Eren got up to slip past Wolffe. “Fitz, how many days there?”

“Three. Not long.”

“Oh…well, I might go and get some sleep before we arrive.”

Fitz stopped with her outside her own door, frowning at her. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. You should get some sleep, too.”

“That’s my plan. I have big plans for my leave.”

“Oh, really? Like what. Drinking at 79’s?”

“You think that, but no. I’m going to go check out the Skydome.”

Eren stared at him. “Really?”

“Really! I do have interests outside this ship.”

“Oh…sorry, I didn’t mean... Sorry. Have you been before?”

“Nope. You?”

“When I was young,” she nodded. “My master used to take me sometimes.”

“You should come with me,” Fitz said, opening the door to his cabin. “I could use a tour guide.”

“Maybe. I’ll give it some thought.”

Inside her cabin, she sank onto the bunk with a sigh. She’d made a bad error of judgement. She should be trying to keep her distance from Wolffe, not sleeping in his bunk with him. She needed to exercise restraint and self-control, no matter how difficult it was.