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Cody rapped three times on the door with his knuckles. His mistake. He'd gotten too used to his micromail gloves, and the skin still hadn't healed from that droideka a few weeks back. Not that he'd been overpowered, but a blaster was still a better weapon than just hands and feet.
It was past midnight, and the General still hadn't showed up to the clone barracks, or sent a message of any sort. Cody wasn't one to pry, but considering Kenobi was scheduled to report to the Council in two days' time, they would need to review the 212th's successes and failures in the past few cycles. The General was no soldier, despite his good intuition. He'd made that clear to his Captain often, implied and outright.
He knocked again.
"General Kenobi? Are you in there?"
This seemed to elicit a noise. Was he asleep? No — now that Cody focused there was another, higher voice from inside the room, too faint above the noise from the vents to make out the words. Tread carefully. An attacker? Humanoid women were common assassins on Coruscant, they'd been taught; non-clone sentients were slaves to their biology, a weakness that Kaminoans had taken care to eliminate.
Strike the caution. He'd have to break in if it was an assassin, so no use wasting time.
"Obi-Wan! Can you hear me?"
He leaned towards the door, as something along the lines of an affirmative came from the room, slurred and indistinct, but not upset. Nothing amiss. Now, Cody really was curious.
"Sir, I'm coming in."
And — look, the door wasn't even locked. Whatever the General was doing, it was not under the usual circumstances.
He stepped inside. The room wasn't luxurious: a step or two above the clones' quarters, but no more. At the centre, he could see Obi-Wan slumped at a desk— awake, and alone, thankfully — staring up at a holo of a visibly concerned woman.
Irritated might be a better word. The look Rex had when Shinies or Commander Tano got themselves in trouble one too many times. He liked to look tough, but deep down, Cody knew he was a softy. Maybe this woman was, too.
"—you're too drunk! You know I want to help, but I can't do much when you can barely speak."
The woman's eyes flicked towards him, searching for something, then she turned her gaze more slowly back to the Cody didn't know better, he'd have said she looked sad.
"Force, I don't know if you have a real problem, or if the man from the Ryl food delivery service hasn't shown up? Do you understand? Wait—"
The General groaned, and the woman craned her neck, as if trying to see into the room.
"Did someone come in? Wake up! Obi-Wan Kenobi!"
Cody didn't know what this was all about, but he decided it was time to intervene before the woman had any more problems with the General. And vice versa. Quietly, he stepped in front of the holocamera.
"Sorry, sir, that was me. I was looking for the General, and his door was unlocked. Would you like me to leave?"
The way the woman looked at him was strange — like that expression of the General's he couldn't identify, but more piercing. She seemed to be scanning him, like General Ti or even one of the Kaminoans. No, he corrected himself. Not like the long-necks. Just as clinical, but kinder.
Yes, kind. It was a short word with sharp edges, but something soft sandwiched between them.
"Commander Cody?"
He was surprised enough that the General had mentioned his name to her, so he forgave the slip-up. It was far better than accidentally being addressed as Sergeant.
"Yes, sir. Only it's Captain Cody, sir."
The woman chuckled, and the edges to her seemed to retract, without going away.
"My apologies. I guess if someone had to find Obi-Wan like this, it's best it was you." She frowned for a moment, then met his eyes again. "Do you know if Padme is there? Or Anakin? They should be able to handle him."
"General Skywalker won't be on leave for a few cycles," he reported, "But Senator Amidala should be in her Coruscant residence."
He did not want to wake her up, was what he didn't add to that. This woman seemed to be very close with the General's family of sorts.
"Understood. Well, if he starts talking again, you can call Padme. Tell her he drunk-holoed Satine again. If he remains like as he is, he should be fine."
"Sir."
"He'll just get a headache in the morning," added Satine, as an afterthought, "Do you know how much longer your battalion is on leave, Com—Captain?"
She'd corrected herself this time, though without any embarrassment most civilians showed when they mixed up names.
"A few weeks longer, sir. Do you have any messages for the General?"
"No, not at the moment. He seemed to be upset, but I assume you know what he's like."
What did she mean by that? Cody certainly knew that Kenobi was a handful, but not like this. He didn't just leave his door unlocked.
"Uh, sorry, sir?"
"I'm sure you've heard of the effects alcohol has on humanoids. Don't worry about it if he seems upset."
Standing at ease, Satine seemed to be waiting for a response before continuing.
"Thank you for the information, sir. Anything else I should do?"
"If you have nothing else to do, put him on his side on a flat surface, and leave a note explaining that he was drunk. He should be fine if you just leave him; he might even learn his lesson."
She smiled softly, with only a small crease at the edges of her eyes showing Cody that it was real.
"Understood, sir," answered Cody. "I will now end the transmission."
"Thank you, Captain."
The image fizzled out when Cody pressed the power button, turning off the holocam.
He had a few questions for Obi-Wan himself, when he woke up.
But first, there was a situation to take care of. Knocked-out humanoids could choke, especially if their brain functions weren't up to par. If a brother was blast-shocked, you lay him on his side, limbs offset to keep the head tilting downwards, and to keep his tongue where it should be. They'd had plenty of practice.
He tapped Kenobi's shoulder, to check to see if he was still conscious — he wasn't no — and picked him up. Flat surface…the couch would probably be the best thing in this room.
Once the General was dealt with, he tried to find some pen and paper. There was a notepad on the kitchen counter, scribbled with a few abbreviations and symbols that didn't look much like Aurebesh. Pens, he wondered, where did he keep the pens — there, in a cup on the desk, behind the holo setup.
What to write?
Sorry for intruding.
Rex was right — he'd been slowly absorbing he General's stuffy Coruscant vocab.
Door was unlocked. You were drunk. Woman on holo gave instructions. Name: Satine?
Will be in barracks.
Cody.
Clones hadn't been trained to write anything fancier than a numbers report, but it would do for now, until the General was awake enough to ask questions.
Off to bed. He wasn't about to waste a rest rotation babysitting a grown Jedi, like Rex did.
He made sure to lock the door behind him.
…
About 11:00 the next morning, a text message came through on Cody's datalink.
Meeting re: council briefing — 1:00?
— Obi-Wan
The General must have gotten the headache Satine had mentioned. Cody had never known him to send a message without at least one non-standard word. And "briefing" didn't count.
He pulled up the keyboard, and typed in:
Yessir. Your office?
There wasn't a reply. He'd check it later.
…
The door was still locked when he knocked at the General's door for the second time that day. Either he'd remembered to lock it this time, or he hadn't left the room this morning.
From the face he saw when the door was opened, he decided it was probably the second option.
"Ah, hello, Cody. Sorry about the dark, but I'm still getting used to morning."
One set of blinds in the room was slightly opened in the corner, but it more than enough to see by. Clones' vision was worse when it came to colour, but they saw better than most humans at night.
"That won't be a problem, sir."
He followed him in, to their usual spots at the desk.
"So," the General started, "I'm afraid I don't recall much from last night. I assume you came to check on me, after I failed to respond to the ten messages piled up on my datalink?"
Cody felt like this was supposed to be a joke, but he couldn't find anything funny about it.
"Yes, sir," he said, adding and edge to try and show Obi-Wan how serious it could have been. "With the record of assassination attempts since the war began, leaving yourself unguarded—"
"It's fine, Cody." The response wasn't as flippant as expected, but Cody still felt like he was at a disadvantage. "I understand. In the future, I should probably tell you when I've gone into town, as it were."
He sighed, running his fingers along his brow.
"By the way, did I really holo Satine?"
"I believe so, sir. The woman you holoed was a pale human with pale hair, and she referred to you, General Skywalker, and Senator Amidala by name."
From Obi-Wan's twisted expression, it was hard to tell whether that was good or bad. Paperwork forgotten, he'd swiveled his chair around to face Cody.
"Hmm…she could fit that description. Just ensure there is no possibility at all that we're wrong: did she seem impatient, at all?"
"I wouldn't say that, sir, but she was…to-the-point."
"Ah, yes. That would be Satine."
Obi-Wan — no, Cody told himself, the General's grimace was familiar. Slowly, he was getting a handle on which tired smile meant what. Rex had it easy there — General Skywalker was pretty straightforward, and Commander Tano always made her emotions very clear.
This was something like that face he wore when Asajj Ventress forced her way into a fight. Kind of. In a way.
"Is she a threat, sir?"
"I'm sorry?"
Now, it was Obi-Wan who looked off-balance, straightening up from a slouch to something resembling attention.
"Well, sir," he reasoned, feeling unsure himself, "She was worried about you, but you don't look too happy to hear from her."
Now, he laughed. Confusing, but Cody was willing to accept the relief. One less thing to worry about for the General was one less thing to worry about for him.
"Oh, no, no. She's a friend. Well, not quite — but no, most certainly not a threat. Honestly, you could trust her more than me."
"Understood, sir," answered Cody, not understanding. Quickly, he ran through the faces he'd seen on datapads, or posters on classroom walls. She'd never been in any of Cody's training as a prominent Knight or Master, but who could outrank a Jedi besides a Jedi herself? The Chancellor, or a top aide, likely, but the Jedi took orders from the Republic. Not any one person.
Cody slowly realized that the General was looking at him. Now, most people looked at each other when in a conversation, but Obi-Wan tended to stare at a point about two inches above the left shoulder. The clones had been taught to look there when addressing a senior officer, but it wasn't ordinary for a Jedi to do it. But for General Kenobi, Cody took it in stride. He had worse quirks.
Like this one, when as late at night after battles, too tired even to speak, he looked Cody in the eye and seemed to smile.
Cody also realized that he'd been tapping his fingers. Most clones did it, but it was a bad habit on the battlefield. If the enemy got wind of where you were sitting from the noise, you were as good as blasted.
"Sir?"
Obi-Wan chuckled for a moment, and rolled his eyes, turning back to the desk to Cody's relief.
"I understand if you don't want to call me by my name, but please, you don't have to be so formal. You just witnessed me drooling—"
And here he waved at the mess in front of him.
"—on my data pads and holoing an old friend. I'm amazed you still seem to respect my judgment, let alone see fit to call me sir."
There was something about a dedicated Jedi looking like he'd just been dragged through a trash heap, still talking with the same dressed-up tone that made Cody laugh. The General. Satine. This renowned Master of the Jedi Council leaving his door unlocked in the middle of the night, and wincing when he even talked about opening the blinds.
Rex was right — they really were sentients, after all.
After it died down, he managed a reply.
"Last I saw him, Rex said he'd personally had to carry General Skywalker out of two bar fights. I'd say I'm lucky to have you, sir."
"I do mean it about the 'sir', Commander."
Cody had to smile again; this whole rotation had been life-or-death. He needed to get it out. And now he knew where Satine had gotten it from — Obi-Wan couldn't even remember his own officer's rank!
"Ah, I'm sorry, General, but it's Captain. I need recommendation from at least two Generals and to become Commander."
"Really?"
Obi-Wan had whipped around in his chair, looking so confused that it was hard not to break into laughter again.
"It's the truth, sir."
"No wonder. I put in for a promotion months ago."
"Don't worry about it, sir."
Obi-Wan just sighed.
"Is there anything else I should know about regulations that nobody told me?"
"I wouldn't know — you can look them up in the book if you want."
"I'm not Anakin by any stretch of the imagination, but reading that whole thing seems a bit excessive."
"Of course, sir."
Cody thought for a few seconds, and decided to tell him.
"By the way, sir, you also didn't know that most units have a CC-class clone assigned to be Captain."
"No!"
"I'm afraid so," Cody answered ruefully — or tried to, to spare the General his amusement.
"Well," went Obi-Wan's resigned reply, "It's a good thing I picked you anyway."
He grinned for a moment, and leaned back on the desk.
"Tell me, Cody, do you know how clones are assigned to the companies? I thought it was random, but today seems to be a day for proving me wrong."
"I'm not sure about that one — we're incubated and socialized in squads and batches, but General Ti assigns us our positions. Once in a while even the squads get split up."
Now the General was back to his more controlled look, eyes staring at a precise point in space, one hand subconsciously moving to his beard. His bad habit, maybe?
"That would explain why Rex is with Anakin," he said slowly, as if testing his hypothesis, "And you're here, with me."
Cody couldn't fault him for it. He was right — not that he and Rex had been making any secret of their friendship. It was just that he never expected the General to pick up on it, or tell how close they really were under their professionalism.
"Could I ask how you know that, sir?"
The reply was a simple shrug.
"I just guessed that you two were friends back on Kamino. You seemed to speak from experience, so I assumed…"
He almost seemed embarrassed, letting the sentence trail off.
"We were, sir," Cody said, taking pity on him, "I got picked out and put in CC training, but he decided to stay in CT."
"Interesting."
Obi-Wan fell silent. Maybe he sensed Cody's apprehension, because the moment he felt a question form in his mind, the General smiled his strange, pinched smile and turned back to his desk, starting to stack some of the datapads. Somehow, Cody suspected it was just for show.
"Remind me that I'm going to have to send Shaak a thank-you note."
At least he was as roundabout as ever.
"Sir?"
Though his back was now turned, Cody was sure Obi-Wan had smiled again. Was the question ignorant? Was the answer obvious to anyone not a clone?
"I'm sure the other clones are just as good," the General replied lightly, "But I shudder to think how I'd get on trying to work with Wolffe or Ponds."
Protocol was specific in what approach was to be taken if the Generals were unsatisfied, angry, incapacitated, or murderous, but the regs were vague about the approved response to a compliment, particularly when it seemed unrelated to competence.
Though Cody had to admit, he felt the same way. Not about the other Commanders — he'd grown up with them, so he was used to all their idiosyncrasies. He shared the General's thoughts on General Ti's assignments.
"They're not so bad once you get to know them, sir," he found himself saying. "Ponds is bit of a stick in the mud, and Wolffe's just — himself."
"You know, I'm sure I've said the same thing about Anakin, more than once. Plo has shared more than few stories with me."
"I can only imagine."
And truthfully, Cody only could. Wolffe was never very open, but he'd been especially silent with regards to his General, even when Cody had served under him.
"Anyhow, sir," he said, trying to move the conversation back to where it should have started, "Should we start reviewing the data for the Council?"
"Oh — right," said Obi-Wan, looking almost embarrassed, "I'm sorry about that, Cody. Where do you propose we start?"
"I'd say do the losses first."
"Excellent."