Chapter Text
Cody couldn’t move.
This wasn’t like the times he’d frozen up in training (never on the battlefield-- no, he was too good for that. Only when he was young, on Kamino, and he felt the eyes on him. The calculating stares.)
But no, this wasn’t like that.
He was just so tired .
They had returned to the Negotiator from the latest battle in the endless string (he couldn’t even remember what planet they’d been on. Or how long ago they’d returned. Only that they had lost too many, too many , because his plan had backfired. Multiple platoons trapped in a valley, picked off one by one by the Separatists. Left to die unheroic deaths. More names on a list.)
But that wasn’t the point. The point was that he was here now. That they’d returned, and debriefed like normal. Cody hadn’t been able to meet his General’s eyes, Kenobi knew it was Cody’s plan that failed.
Cody has somehow made it to his quarters (it was nice, as a commanding officer, to have his own quarters. He didn’t know what he’d do if he’d had to face the stares of the rest of the 212th right then.)
Then he’d slept -- maybe? He wasn’t really sure. He wasn’t sure what time it was. If it was morning he’d have to go to his strategy meeting with Kenobi soon. If it was night-- well, he didn’t know what he’d do if it was night.
All he knew was that he couldn’t move. Could barely breathe, really. He was laying on his bunk (well, it was most likely his bunk. It could’ve been the floor, truthfully.)
He couldn’t do anything other than draw in ragged breaths and release them. His eyes were open (or were they?-- it was too dark to tell-- well actually, yes, they were open, there were the grey outlines of his desk, and the light from something on it.)
Kriff. The light from his comm. Incoming message.
But he couldn’t go look at it. Even if he had been able to move, he didn’t want to know who was trying to talk to him. No matter who it was, they would know what had happened on that useless planet. Might be angry, might be disappointed. The disappointment was the worst. They all thought that he, Marshall Commander Cody, CC-2224, should be better than that. Better than leading them into a trap (not even leading them-- he had been safe back at base, one of the only times he hadn’t been with the men on a plan of his own. He should’ve been with them. Taken the fall for his own idiotic misstep that had cost them lives. Too late for that now.)
Cody thought he was better than this. Better than not being able to move, better than watching his men fall into a trap, better than being this kriffing useless when there were things to do.
He’d always been better than this. So why wasn’t he now? Every other time in the two and a half years of this war, he’d marched on with an unfazed expression on his face. Sure, it had earned him ire from a brother or two (Rex hadn’t talked to him for two weeks a year ago because Cody wasn’t as torn up about Umbara as he was. Cody had been, as a matter of fact, it’s just that he couldn’t show that to anyone. Not even Rex. Cody hadn’t told him how deep the words cut (cold, unfeeling, heartless, di’kut, to be exact) because maybe he deserved them. Maybe he did.)
But even that loss (which had been worse than this one, to be sure) hadn’t done-- done this to him.
Maybe he just hadn’t been sleeping enough. He knew he hadn’t actually, but no commander had slept enough since the beginning of the war. So why was this time different?
A beeping noise cut through the haze. His comm, again. High pitched and shrill, the noise didn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop, until he answered. (It must be morning, then, no one would contact him in the middle of the night with a noise like that.)
And the noise was so. loud. Cody didn’t know what to do, he wanted to get up but he couldn’t , why couldn’t he just get up, if he got up he could stop it. But his heart felt so heavy and so did the rest of him and maybe if he closed his eyes the comm would stop.
It didn’t. It kept going until Cody wanted to scream because it wouldn’t stop but he couldn’t stop it and he just wanted to rest.
Then the knocks sounded. Three curt, short, bangs. (That meant it was the general, if it had been Boil or somebody else they would’ve just slammed on the door and yelled his name.)
Kenobi didn’t yell, but he did speak loud enough to be heard through the door and over the sound of the comm. “Cody? Are you in there? I’ve been trying to contact you.”
Ah, so that was what the beeping had been.
Maybe if he was silent the general wouldn’t--
No use. Cody heard the door slide open and shut his eyes quickly. He could pretend to be asleep.
“Commander?”
Cody opened his eyes, acting as if he were shaking off sleep. “I can’t believe this didn’t wake you, Cody,” Kenobi said as he pressed a button to turn off the chirping of Cody’s comm. “Sleeping well, I imagine?”
Cody was able to smile at that.
“Well, we have an emergency on the bridge. I know we thought we’d be getting some much needed rest, but the Council just contacted me. Can you be there in five?”
Cody nodded, still laying down.
“Right. I’ll leave you to it,” Kenobi said as he walked out. The door slid shut behind him, leaving Cody to the brightness of the motion activated lights.
He stared up at the top of the bunk for a few seconds, gathering up the energy to get out of bed. Slowly, he found he was able to swing his legs over the side. He was still tired, but now it was just a bleariness in his head. (But he was Marshall Commander Cody, and he didn’t get derailed by stuff like that.) There was a meeting to get to.
Obi Wan was starting to worry by the time his commander walked in. Cody was twelve minutes late, something which had never happened before. He couldn’t remember the last time Cody was late to anything .
He tilted his head as he looked at Cody. There was something… off about him today. Cody never wore his helmet to strategy session, but today it was placed firmly on his head. Obi Wan turned to the holotable, shaking off the feeling. Cody must just be tired.
“General Skywalker, Captain Rex, and the 501st will be joining us shortly, from Coruscant. We’ll then continue on to the Outer Rim, dropping out right here,” he said as he pointed to a place on the revolving holographic map. “Now, we’ll have a relatively easy mission. The Separatists have overtaken a Republic supply hub in the Ntaub system, all we need to do is reclaim it. Cody, any ideas?”
Obi Wan always turned to his commander first before offering input himself. Today, though, Cody stepped back, not having anything to say. Another rare occurrence for Obi Wan’s tactic-minded Commander. Narrowing his eyes, Obi-Wan laid out his strategy, and when Cody didn’t have anything to say at that, Obi-Wan knew there was something going on.
After dismissing the rest of the people at the meeting, Obi Wan called out. “Commander? Could you stay back for a second?”
He felt like a teacher at the temple that didn’t want to reprimand a student in front of the rest of the class.
“Is everything alright, Cody?”
Obi Wan couldn’t see Cody’s expression under his helmet, but the slight tilt of the head was enough to know the commander was confused. “Yessir.”
Hmm. Maybe he had been wrong.
“Ok. You can go. Sorry for holding you back.”
Cody nodded swiftly.
But as he watched Cody walk out, he thought he saw the man’s shoulders deflate a small bit, as if relieved he wasn’t getting questioned more.
He’d have to keep an eye on him.