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Chapter Text

Cody didn’t know his life was going to change until it already had. He woke up and it was a new day just like any other, a quick meal in the mess and coming up with strategies for infiltrating a base while doing target practice. He and his batch were going to ship out soon, that much was clear, and Cody felt it in the way that he’d looked to his left just once for Rex and not seen him there. 

Cody had looked away. Focus, he thought. Rex was fine. And so were Ponds and Neyo. Probably.  

The facility bell rang, and Cody made his way down the hall to lunch, his march just a little bit clipped and short. Where it normally took him 259 paces to get to the mess, this time it took him a staggering 278. He would have been disgusted with himself, but Cody couldn’t help but worry. 

He nodded at two shinies sitting across from him as he sat down with his tray and began to eat, not thinking about anything more than the rest of the day, which included leading another squad of shinies who were fresh out the tube through their first battle sim. Without Ponds, that was going to suck. 

“CC-2224?” 

Cody glanced to his left with raised eyebrows. A vod he’d never seen before looked at him, his face placid but Cody saw the nervousness in his eyes and the way they didn’t look at him for more than a second. 

“Yes?” He answered mildly. 

The vod’s lips tightened, almost as if he’d been hoping he was wrong, and said, “I need you to come with me, sir, it’s urgent.” 

Urgent? Cody’s interest sharpened. Nothing on Kamino was that urgent other than them being shipped off, but the longnecks wouldn’t have sent a shiny to fetch him for that. Something under his skin heated up, and his carefully nutritionally balanced meal was abandoned without a second thought. 

“Of course,” Cody said and stood. “Show me the way.” 

“Sir?” The clone asked tentatively. 

Cody gave him a glance and a nod to prompt him to go on. 

“You might want to bring a few others along.” The vod shifted his weight from side to side uncomfortably. “Sir.” 

There was a sensation in Cody’s chest; inexplicably like excitement but not, something two shades to the right he’d never felt before. He was quick to gather up only those he trusted who were nearby: Fox, CT-2227, and Bly. 

And then the shiny led them to a storage room. 

“Here?” Cody asked. 

“Here, sir,” the clone confirmed, and entered a quick code to open the door, revealing a man standing expectantly in the middle of the room dressed in robes that looked all-too-familiar to Cody, who had been studying to fight alongside a Jedi since he could comprehend aurebesh script.

“Who the hell are you?” Cody said, his voice hard. 

The man smiled in a way that was tired, emphasizing the wear in his brown outer cloak and the shine of grease in his hair. He held out a circular device that Cody had only seen pictures and schematics of; it was one that contained holographic messages. 

“Unimportant,” the man answered. “I have a message for CC-2224 from CT-7567.”

Cody did not trust this man nor his supposed message, even if it was from Rex. The entire thing screamed circumspect. Cody’s gaze darted to the back of the room, where a supply closet door jumped out at him. He looked to Fox and saw a mirroring spark in the other man’s eye. 

“Put the disk on the ground,” Cody instructed the man, who acquiesced without complaint. As soon as the disk touched the floor, Fox, Bly, and CT-2227 pulled their blasters and trained them on the man, who looked extremely unperturbed at being the focus of their malice. 

“You’re going to wait in that supply closet over there while I listen to this,” Cody commanded. “Only if this message is, somehow, genuine, we can talk.”   

Cody Makes A Decision, Art by ReadingBlueWolf

The message was genuine. Nobody could have come up with a lie that horrifying and impossible. Cody listened to it three times through and debated with Fox about the likelihood of it being faked for only two minutes before they both believed. Cody took a moment to dazedly run his fingers over the place in his brain where the so-called “inhibitor chip” might lie and thought about a conspiracy that ran all the way to the heart of the Republic.

They let the man out of the supply closet. 

“My name’s Cody,” Cody said to him. “What’s the plan?”

The plan was crazy. No, scratch that. The plan was insane, but Cody no longer distrusted Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight. For now, at least, he was an ally, and Kamino would soon be theirs. He and his brothers would soon be free.

Cody knew Tipoca City. So did Fox. So did CT-2227. So did Bly, and so did the nervous shiny who had fetched Cody, CT-8743. They all knew it better than the longnecks. And besides, Cody had been genetically engineered for war. He was a tactician and a marksman and a clone. This facility was his home, and he had only imagined what it might take to capture and defend it hundreds of times. As practice, of course. The addition of broadcasting the frequency from the scanner Knight Kenobi brought along didn’t even complicate matters much.

Seventeen small stealth teams, two large groups of chaos, a few explosives, and four of the best slicers Fox knew was all it took. 

Just like Cody had planned. And it only took an hour until Cody had the vindictive pleasure of locking the cells on the scientists that had so carefully copied his genome and the trainers that beat their lessons into him. He smiled at them with bared teeth, deep satisfaction settling in his bones over the way he’d gotten to shoot Nala Se in the shoulder. The comm in his ear rang, letting him know that the last watchtower had just been secured and that the frequency to disable the chips was being amplified to cover the entire cloning facility. 

He turned to one Obi-Wan Kenobi, who stood at his side. “Tell me what’s next.” 

Knight Kenobi grimaced. “Paperwork,” he said. 

The way that the three Jedi— Obi-Wan Kenobi, Shaak Ti, and Plo Koon— had put it was that Cody didn’t have many options and he didn’t have much time. Fox, Bly, and CT-2227 were putting out the fires he couldn’t deal with right now, and Cody needed to make a decision. He’d skimmed the constitution that some senator— Amilala, perhaps?— had written on their behalf, Knight Kenobi assuring him that she was trusted by both Rex and himself. 

It hadn’t looked horrible, but the thing had been formal and it made his eyes hurt to read. Regardless, Cody had taken a five minute break to down a ration bar. He wanted to sign the document, but it didn’t feel like something only he should decide. 

The ration bar was dry. They always were. 

Cody’s hands did not shake when he refused the proffered stylus. “I need to issue a call for all the clones trained in command. We need to talk before anyone signs anything.”

Shaak Ti smiled at him. “Of course, Cody. Do what you must, but let us be swift. The faster this can be pushed through the government, the better.” 

The vode were organized. Practical, tactical, and sure. A mere fifteen minutes after Cody had issued the call for all commanders to meet in Training Room Five, all of them were there. They all looked tired, varying shades of the same exhaustion lining their faces. Cody had prepared; the scientists he’d imprisoned had a caf machine he felt no shame about appropriating.

He poured himself a mug of it and gulped it down, too hot and burning his tongue, but the aftertaste it left was bitter. He relished in it.

“So, men. Let’s discuss our options.” 

Between the twenty-two of them gathered there, there was enough brainpower to conquer any problem. They were bred for war. Each possible outcome was attacked with ferocity, questions laid out and answered in detail. Cody didn’t know how it happened, but he found himself being the one to lead the discussions. He didn’t mind, though. If his brothers needed him to step up and keep them on track, he would. 

“So, the fucking chips,” Fox brought up, and Cody’s face screwed up. Osik, but the inhibitor chips made him uncomfortable in his own body just thinking about them. That he could be made to do anything through being given a command was horrifying. Cody already knew that he was a cog in the wheel, but to be that controllable, that untrusted? It was insulting and disgusting. 

“We need to get rid of them immediately,” Blackout said, and everyone agreed with that proposition readily. Nobody wanted to take any chances with having mind control on the table, no fucking thank you. 

“We can set up a rotation with the medics to assign surgeries. Monnk, can you coordinate that?” Cody asked, glancing at Monnk to confirm that he was on board. 

Monnk nodded. “Sir, yes, sir,” he joked, and took a big sip of caf from his mug.

With that matter settled, they quickly moved on to their options of actually taking over Kamino. One possibility was staying a neutral world. Cody didn’t think that was their best option, but he wanted to hear what everyone had to say before the idea was dismissed. 

“What about neutrality?” He asked. 

“I mean,” grimaced Gree, “we all know how Mandalore is doing.” The comment needed no further explanation and the room grimaced in various ways, Wolffe not even bothering to hide an annoyed eye roll. 

Mandalore’s neutrality was the worst possible outcome. They were forced to pay heavy tariffs to trade across Republic space, they had an unstable government, and their planet’s natural resources had been diminished heavily from internal wars. Cody wouldn’t allow that to happen to Kamino.

“Would we really be like Mandalore, though? Our situation is completely different,” Bly countered. 

“Unfortunately,” Cody said, “I think we will need the official standing of citizenship that the Republic offers us in order to turn things around. Right now, we are still the property of the Kaminoans.” He outstretched a wrist, gesturing to where each of their ID chips layed. 

“Also,” Fox said, musing slowly, “considering the issue of clone rights— if we’re in the Republic, then we can change the conversation, push for things that wouldn’t normally go through in the senate.” 

“I agree,” seconded Blackout. “I have a few ideas on that front, but they can wait.” Regardless, he typed a few things into his datapad and passed it to Fox, who typed a few more things and passed it to Bacara to read.  

“Did you say this constitution we’re going to sign was written by Rex?” Jet asked, returning Cody’s focus to the matter at hand. 

Cody shook his head. “No, but some senator that he trusts put it together for us. It’s quite long, we don’t have time to read it all. The gist is that we are Kamino’s citizens and the planet are ours. We will have a leader that we appoint through a vote and our own legal system. Standard kind of democratic setup. Once we sign it, we’ll also have to sign a petition to join the Republic.” 

There were a few more minutes of discussion and debate, but nobody had any other arguments strong enough to overcome the idea of joining the Republic. All throughout the conversation, the room thrummed with tension. Everybody knew their time was limited, and although they would take the time to debate as needed, the pressure of acting quickly was bearing down upon them. 

“Let’s vote,” Cody offered. “All in favor of joining the Republic, raise your hands.” 

All hands were raised. Cody nodded. 

He picked up the stylus, and then— stopped. He set it down once more, hands bound again. 

“What,” hissed Davijaan from right next to him, elbowing Cody in the side, “are you waiting for?” 

“If we really are a democracy now,” Cody said slowly, “then I feel we need everybody to vote, not just us. I won’t have a select few making this decision for every vod here.” 

Davijaan groaned but nodded, everybody else agreeing swiftly. Though it might be a pain in the ass to get it done, Cody knew they could do it. He turned to Fox, an idea forming in his brain. 

“I’m thinking… you know the test terminals?” He asked. 

Fox grinned. “Yes, I do know the extremely breachable terminals with easy entry to the wired network, to which we now have admin codes.” 

Cody felt emancipation shiver down his spine, and he knew they were thinking the exact same thing. 

It only took Fox’s slicers forty minutes to get the voting program up and running. And during those forty minutes, Cody and Bly conferred with the Jedi and then went to the announcement system to tell everyone what was going on. 

There was a microphone sitting between the two of them, not yet on but waiting for when they were ready, and Bly looked over at Cody with worry etched into his face.

“Is this really the right thing?” He asked, his voice aching and soft in ways that Cody hadn’t heard it be in a while, not since he’d stood in front of everyone and told them that he wanted to be called Bly, short for butterfly and expected judgment. 

Cody knew how he felt. This was not protocol, not in any of the rulebooks they’d been taught to play by. Instead, this was an army of clones trying to join the Republic. It was something that had never been done before. 

But Cody also knew that there was no other choice. They had to do this, and they had to do it right. 

“It is. And if it isn’t, then we’ll figure it out. We can do this,” Cody said. He had no choice but to believe. 

He and Bly held eye contact, and Cody let Bly take strength in the surety of his gaze until he had enough of it for himself, nodding as he swallowed and turned away. Bly reached out a hand toward the speaker system and said, “Tell them.” 

And so Cody did. 

They assembled in the largest hangar, the one that held two Star Destroyers at full capacity, because that was the only place where everyone would fit. Each clone had been instructed to bring their personal datapad. Cody had explained their options in the most succinct way possible, bringing up and shooting down the arguments that the command team had come up with. 

“This is the best option we came up with,” Cody said. “But it is still your choice. We will vote on this matter, and no matter the outcome we will forge ourselves a future together.”

And now they were here, Fox muttering about the responses to the vote as they rolled in with his four slicers. Bly and Jet spoke lowly between each other, and Gree and the others were out in the crowd, answering questions and discussing with the vode about their planet’s direction. Blackout was making furious notes in his datapad at a rate that Cody knew meant he was thinking about their future, and Cody was alone. 

Cody was in his head, thinking about the future too, but in a less strategic way than Blackout probably was. There were opportunities for his brothers ahead, ones that he hadn’t seen coming their way, and Cody felt uncertain about the path they might lead. 

Since the clones were created to be an army, and a batch of them had even been sent out, Cody didn’t know if the Republic was on the verge of war or not. And, of course, there was the matter of getting the chips removed. Cody had lots of pieces to put together, and he was glad not to be doing any of this alone. 

The three Jedi stood not too far away either, conferring between each other with neutral faces and body language. They were too far away to hear, but Cody watched them for a few moments, wondering what it would have been like if he’d had to serve under one of those Jedi before realizing that it would never come to fruition. The express purpose that the clones had been created for would now never come to pass. 

The thought hit him like a blaster set to stun. He looked down at his datapad, which was cataloging the percentages of the answers pouring in to the vote. Ninety-four percent of respondents had chosen to join the Republic so far; Cody knew then the deal was sealed. 

They were free.  

He turned his thoughts forward and thought, If Kamino is ours and we are its citizens, what would be the first thing that I’d want? 

There were so many answers and so many things that Cody wished for that he’d never had. There were so many ideas that Cody had for the future of his brothers, things that had been wisps on the outside of his mind ever since he learned about the world and its diversity only to be surrounded by white and different shades of the same face for his whole life. 

The vode were clones, sure. But they weren’t the same person over and over, and Cody knew that he needed to make that official with more than just numbers tattooed into their skin. Compelled to say something, Cody stood and walked to the podium that Fox’s slicers had set up for a speaker. 

The din of the crowd fell silent at the sight of Cody in front of them all, and vaguely Cody wondered how he looked like this, the scar on his face setting him apart from the rest but his white armor and black undersuit the same. He wondered how his face looked, his expression and what it conveyed in that moment, if they knew more than Cody himself did on what he was about to say. 

He shoved the thoughts away. This was not the time to be speculating about that kind of nonsense, anyway. He could save the maudlin osik for his pod. 

“You all done voting yet?” He asked. An answering cheer went up in the crowd, and when Cody looked back down at his datapad, he watched until the completion bar at the top of the screen inched its way up to 100%. When it had finished, Cody smiled and looked back up out into the crowd. 

“You know my name is Cody,” he said, and looked around the room, surveying the identical faces that stared back at him, but each with its own unique expression. 

“You know my number, too,” Cody continued, “CC-2224. But that’s not who I am. Those numbers aren’t who a lot of you are. They were assigned to us as products, as items of trade to fight in a war that was not ours. 

“We are not expendable numbers that are easily replaced. No. A number isn’t what I want any of us to be. And we don’t have to be that anymore. Our future will no longer be to fight. We have voted, with 93% in favor, to become citizens of the Republic. I know what we need to do!”

The face of A-017 loomed in the back of his mind, the stern way he had looked at Cody and the few Commanders selected for the ARC program when he’d told them name yourselves, for names have meaning and— though nobody else will say it— so do you.

His brothers were not about to die, nameless, for a war. They were not replaceable, and Cody was going to make them all believe that if it was the last thing he did.   

“Let’s make things official,” he continued. “If you have a name I want you to own it. We’re going to set up a form where you can submit your name and get legal documents with that name on them, but we don’t have to wait until then to erase the factory line numbers on our skin. We’ve always been more than that and today is the day we finally recognize ourselves as such!” 

Cody didn’t expect anything with his speech, he’d just had something to say and he’d said it. But the vode roared their approval louder than one of the explosions from training. It filled up the room fully, their approval echoing out the windows onto the sea, and Cody felt.  

This is what he was meant to do. 

The Jedi came over to him, then, stylus and documents proffered. Cody signed both without hesitation, big cheers going up as he did so. He looked out into the crowd and locked eyes with Gree, his eyes finding Gree’s red hair in the crowd with ease. Gree smiled up at him, something fierce and proud in his expression that warmed Cody to see, enabling him to turn back to Plo Koon, who was holding the datapad with the newly signed documents on them, tapping at his screen in concentration.. 

“Now, if you could please send us the results of the planet-wide vote for further evidence, we’ll get this out to Senator Amidala so she can fast-track it through. And,” Master Koon looked up at Cody, a warm tinge in his voice making itself known, “Congratulations, President Cody.” 

Cody felt his blood run cold. President Cody?  

“What?” He managed to get out, and then looked past Master Koon’s shoulder to make eye contact with Fox that screamed Come help me!  

Fox came over as the Jedi looked at him in what was possibly confusion, but since Cody had never met a Kel Dor before, he was just guessing. 

“Cody, what is it?” Fox asked.

Cody swallowed down his panic, hoping that he had just heard wrong. “I need you to forward those vote results to the Jedi so we can send in our petition.”

Fox had already completed the action in question by the middle of Cody’s sentence, and Master Koon made a noise of acknowledgement before decisively clicking something on his datapad. “Sent,” he confirmed, and Cody’s panic returned with a vengeance.

Weakly, he said, “...Master Koon, did I hear you correctly when you said I was president a moment ago?” 

Fox made a choked off noise, and Shaak Ti materialized at Master Koon’s side. 

“Well, A-017 was right about—” Cody cut off Fox’s muttered comment with an extremely sharp elbow into his side, and Masters Koon and Ti watched with what Cody was pretty sure was amusement. 

“You’re not president, Cody?” Shaak Ti asked. “We thought that…” 

They’d thought what now, exactly? Cody had just gotten that message from Rex and did what he’d had to do in order to get the clones in control of Kamino so that they could join the Republic and become citizens. There hadn’t been a vote about this or anything official like the charter had said they should have. 

Cody had acted like this had been war: he was a commander in the field and he’d had the most intelligence at the time, which made him uniquely qualified to make decisions. As soon as he and his men had a reprieve, they had met, Cody had shared the details with all of them, and they’d made the decisions together from then on.

But Cody had been the one to do all of this, in a way. The Jedi weren’t wrong about that much. He’d led the fight against the longnecks, locked some of them in prison personally. After that, he could have signed the petitions all on his own and forced it through, but instead of doing so, he’d conferred with his fellow commanders and then all of his brothers at large to make sure that this was what they wanted as well. Cody had led the conversation, given the speeches. 

He could see why the Jedi thought he was president, if he looked at it like that.

“I can see why, but I haven’t been elected,” Cody said. 

Koon and Ti exchanged worried glances. “That does make the paperwork we just submitted with your signature on it a little more complicated, then,” Koon demurred, and really, they probably should have mentioned this to Cody before now, although he did realize that he was also a significant factor in the lack of critical thinking. 

He’d signed Kamino’s charter and a petition to join the Republic. Of course a leader would be the one to do that, where had the Cody that had gotten 497/500 on the analysis and tactical thinking exams gone?

Fox snorted and leaned back over to the podium. He called into the mic, “Hey! Since Cody signed all our documents, he’s president. Anybody have a problem with that?” 

The hall was silent for a minute. 

“If he sucks we can always overthrow him, so I’m fine with it,” Jet yelled and gave two thumbs-ups. 

Another vod Cody didn’t know the number or name of called, “He gives nice speeches, I’m fine for him to lead us.” 

“I like his scar,” somebody else said, and yet another chimed in with, “He shot Nala Se in the shoulder, he’s my president whether the rest of you vote him out or not!” A swell of voices rose in the air, all of them shouting out their agreement to letting Cody lead them.

A lump formed in Cody’s throat. He couldn’t— he shouldn’t accept. This wasn’t something he’d ever wanted, not something he was created for. He’d been made for war, and his people were looking to him to instead create peace. But Cody never backed down from where he was needed. 

Fox turned around and gave Cody a roguish grin. “Seems like that won’t be an issue, President Cody.” 

Somehow, the fact that it was Fox saying the statement made Cody extremely annoyed, and he shoved Fox out of the way to hastily say into the mic, “Thank you! We can have a vote in a month to see if you still would like me in office, depending how I perform. But I promise that I will be trying my best. I won’t let you down.” 

“We know you won’t, Cody!” Said Bly, and Cody looked over to where he stood, one of those vibrant smiles on his face that was enough to make Cody realize that he’d made the right decision as the vode stomped their feet and clapped and cheered. 

Maybe he hadn’t wanted this, but if he could do something for all of his brothers standing before him, then he would. It was his obligation to do so, if it made them all feel like this, like they were running free with nobody watching their every movement, waiting for the moment they would have to control their minds. 

They had things to do. Since Cody was president, he needed people to help him with everything that came along with the job. 

In the chaos, 2227 appeared out of nowhere, dragging Davijaan with him. Cody felt something in him ease to see them in front of him, knowing how capable the two of them were. “We’re here to help, sir,” 2227 said, saluting sharply. 

Davijaan rolled his eyes, not deigning to salute but nonetheless saying, “You’re going to need all the help you can get, di’kut. Much as I hate politics, that means we need to start discussing things.” 

“And I,” 2227 declared, “am going to be your assistant.” 

Cody looked at 2227 with distaste. “You’re reminding me why it was a bad idea to give in to forwarding 17’s Mandalorian princess novels to your personal datapad. I do not need an assistant.” 

2227 just looked at him flatly while Davijaan snickered under his breath. The force of his glare could rival a medic’s in its intensity. 

It only took another two seconds before Cody gave in to the path of least resistance and agreed. 2227 and Davijaan took off immediately to round up the commanders and the Jedi, Cody splitting off to gather Gree and Monnk and the rest who were in the crowd. There was no more time to waste. They needed to start having the difficult conversations that would determine Kamino’s future. 

“So where do we go from here?” Wolffe asked, once everyone was settled around the table. They were back in Conference Room Five, caf mugs refilled and minds churning. 

Cody was sitting next to Davijaan again, but this time with 2227 on his other side. His batchmate was really taking the assistant thing seriously, because he’d picked up a datapad and looked like he was poised to take notes.

“Well, we have to wait to hear back from Senator Amidala about your petition making it through the Senate,” Knight Kenobi said. “In the meantime, if I were you, I’d begin to think about what you’d like Kamino’s future to look like and how you can realize it.” Kenobi looked thoughtful, his fingers drumming on the table in front of him in a steady rhythm of one two three four five over and over again. 

Blackout grunted and said, “So you mean we have to think about what our planet has to offer the Republic.” 

Jet snorted. “Besides offering up ourselves, of course.”  

There was a moment of silence, and Cody began to gather up some of the threads he’d been considering, wondering how best to put them. 

“We could train elite warriors?” Thorn offered. It was a good idea, considering that Kamino already had numerous training facilities perfectly ready for that very option, but Cody wanted something more for them. A different legacy than battle and war, if he could help it. 

“We’re not making more clones,” Monnk said flatly. 

“Of course not!” Shaak Ti agreed. “It would be illegal once you joined the Republic anyway.” 

“Well, I don’t want us to be a race of bounty hunters,” Keller said. “We deserve something more than that.” 

“No,” Fox said. “It’s not about what Kamino has to offer as we are, but what Kamino will grow to offer. What is our purpose? What will we create?” 

“That’s more like it,” Davijaan murmured next to Cody, and 2227 was typing furiously on the datapad. Cody watched as the words what is our future, purpose + creations? appeared.

Cody’s ideas had taken the shape he’d wanted to, Fox’s words sparking a solidification of the concepts that he’d been turning over and over in the back of his mind. He opened his mouth, then, and began, “We don’t have to change everything. Think about it, Kamino is already a planet focused on scientific discovery. We’re the experiment, and just because we become Republic citizens doesn’t mean our genome is changing. We’re aging at least twice as fast as regular humans. We need to fix that, and we have the labs to do it. From there, it’s easy to expand. Do genetic research for other diseases and anomalies.” He shrugged. “We can go from there.”

The room was silent for a moment except for the frantic tapping from 2227’s datapad, and Cody swallowed. He thought that it had been a feasible idea. 

“You’re a fucking genius, Cody.” He didn’t quite see who said it, but it was someone at the opposite end of the table from him, down by Gregor and Wolffe. He let his shoulders relax at the acceptance of the idea, and nodded in response to the praise.

“That’s a very noble and logical direction to take Kamino in,” Plo Koon said. “But on a day-to-day basis, is there anything more mundane that perhaps could be used as an export in order to bolster your planetary position?” 

That was a good question. Cody knew that worlds of little importance in the Republic often struggled to find a voice, and he did not want that to happen for them. He hoped that with the ally of Senator Amidala, Kamino could perhaps find its feet a little easier than others with no connections, but Cody was also extremely aware of the fact that they had staged a revolution no less than four hours ago. Even now, Appo and Colt were keeping watch over the longnecks and their trainers with their batchmates to ensure that couldn’t be reversed. 

They couldn’t just jump straight into being a scientific hub and a place of healing and discovery. There was much more to do before they could begin building that reputation. Therefore, Plo Koon was correct in his assumption that they needed something else that showed Kamino wasn’t worthless to help tide things over. 

“We’re an ocean planet,” Monnk offered. “Our easiest strategy would be to make exports out of what we already have. So: seaweed, fish, water; that sort of thing.” 

Everyone jumped on that train, discussing how they would collect such things and the capacity of Kamino’s desalination tanks to make the water consumable. 2227 took constant notes still, and Cody was beginning to feel like their future was taking shape. 

It wasn’t long before Thire, Stone, and Doom all agreed to organize volunteers to help with gathering more data and beginning to learn how they could best begin their collection of Kamino’s natural resources in a manner that would be healthy for the planet’s ecosystem and themselves. 

“Well, of course, everything will go much more smoothly once the rest of us arrive,” Knight Kenobi said, in the middle of Stone theorizing how much work setting up a factory to process kelp would take. 

“What do you mean?” Stone asked, and 2227’s fingers lifted off of his datapad to look at Kenobi in confusion, Cody right alongside him.

“Well,” Kenobi said, almost sounding baffled by the amount of confusion directed at him in the room. “After you’re accepted into the Republic and all the nasty business with the war is put to rest, the Jedi will send envoys to help you rebuild, of course.” 

That was unexpected. Cody had allied himself with the Jedi tentatively, but he hadn’t thought to rely on them that much. He wasn’t doubting their, perhaps, willingness to offer aid, since that seemed in line with the things he’d been taught about the Jedi, but he also hadn’t been willing to bet on any assistance either. He figured that Kamino would largely pull itself up from its own remains, or as much as possible, because he hadn’t wanted them to seem weak when being the new planet on the block. 

“You will?” Jet said after a moment, seeming to realize that nobody else wanted to voice the question.

“Of course we will,” Plo Koon said, some note of sadness in the words. “We are part of the reason why you exist. It would be irresponsible and unkind of us to abandon you now.” 

“What kind of aid would you be willing to provide?” Cody asked, leaning forward in his seat. “And what would you want for it?” The Jedi did seem to mean their words, but Cody was still a little unsure of the intentions behind this offer. It wouldn’t do to allow the Jedi an advantage, or to engender a sense of debt to their Order. The vode were going to be free, and if Cody had to refuse this offer of assistance in order to ensure that, he would.

“We wouldn’t want anything,” Kenobi insisted. “We’re peacekeepers, and we already fought alongside your brothers on Geonosis. Good men died that day. If we can prevent any more men dying, then that’s all the reward we need.” He swallowed, and looked right into Cody’s eyes. He seemed to sense that his words weren’t quite enough, and some of his kindness fell away for a more determined, passionate expression.

“My padawan is the one who knew you’d have the chips. He used to be a slave. I learned that he still has a detonator in his leg, sitting there right now. He told the Jedi Council that he’s not going to get it removed until each and every one of you have your chips removed.” 

Cody started in his seat. A Jedi as a slave? A Jedi, with a chip just like them, a bomb ready to be set off, a product rendered useless? 

“Shit,” Wolffe said, and Cody agreed with the necessity of the curse. 

“You’re doing this for him,” Thorn reasoned. 

Kenobi offered a sad little smile. “Only partially. You see, slavery is wrong. Anakin, my padawan, he knows that. I know that. You know that. We all want to live in a galaxy where eradicating it isn’t an issue any longer. Let us help you do that.” 

Cody looked around the table, catching eyes with each of his brothers as he did so, reading their answers from the quirks of their lips and blinks and nods. 

“I think we can do that,” he said, and the acceptance on Kenobi’s face felt right. 

They continued to talk for a long time. There were plenty of things to discuss, after all, since they were trying to establish a new identity for an entire planet. Cody was going to have headaches for the rest of his life after the amount of planning they’d all done. But, it had all come down to a few things that had been deemed priority by all parties involved. They needed to begin organizing themselves into groups, and had fallen back on their military structure in the absence of any other method. 

Each commander, or group of commanders, had a task assigned to them to help in turning Kamino around. Thire, Stone, and Doom were on the natural resources. Monnk would work to set up a rotation with the medics on chip removal. Fox and Blackout would begin to look at the files on Kamino’s database for anything relevant they needed to know. Appo and Neyo would continue to be on guard duty, they had confirmed over comms, and Keller would switch out with his men when they needed a break. Thorn and Faie were going to assess what supplies and materials they were in possession of currently. Jet, Bacara, and Wolffe had plans on gathering men with technical knowledge to begin drafting out ways to expand over the water. Fil and Gregor were going to run the day to day facilities of Kamino. Davijaan was going to fill in where he was needed, Bly would make sure the vode were taking care of themselves, and Cody was going to somehow oversee it all. 

The Jedi in question said they’d help with moving heavy things as well as answering any questions they were able to. 

“We won’t be able to stay here long after your petition is accepted,” Shaak Ti warned. “We have to ensure the budding war is quelled.” 

Cody understood that. They needed all their soldiers to ensure a total victory. Though the corruption in Coruscant had been weeded out, Cody wasn’t naive enough to believe that had been the end of it. He wouldn’t begrudge the Jedi their safety in numbers. 

“But once it is over,” Kenobi promised, “We will return.”

Shortly after that, Cody began to notice more than a few men hiding yawns into caf mugs, and called the meeting. “We have a plan. Now we need to rest up so we can start fresh on this tomorrow.” 

It didn’t take long for everyone to scatter, and Cody dodged 2227 before he could follow Cody and pester him on the way back to the pods. He was sure his assistant would catch up with him in the morning, after all.

However, instead of going to bed like Cody said he would, his feet took him back to the mess hall again. Lost in thought, Cody didn’t even begin to count his paces. He knew that what had happened today was monumentous. It would change Kamino’s entire history and the history of the clones of Jango Fett. 

Whoever wrote the history books would put his name there, but Cody wasn’t doing this because of that. He didn’t care if his name was forgotten with the sunrise or etched into Kamino’s walls; that didn’t matter. What mattered to Cody right now was learning the name of every vod here and hearing their stories so he could represent them well. 

He slipped unobtrusively into the mess, the large majority of vode still partying. After a few moments of observance, Cody could tell that most of these men had no idea what to do with themselves, and sympathized heavily.

He started his mission, leaning off the wall to walk just a few steps forward. There was a clone standing on his own, watching the proceedings with a contemplative frown. Cody bumped his shoulder, and when the soldier turned to look at him, Cody held out his arm. 

“I’m Cody. What’s your name, vod?” He asked.

Something flickered in the shiny’s eyes, profound and solid and real as he reached out and took Cody’s forearm. “Lever. Good to meet you, President Cody. And thank you.” 

Lever. Cody would remember his name, now. “Lever. Thank you.” 

Lever gave him a sharp nod and a thrum of connection passed between them for a moment before both of them turned their gazes back out onto the crowd.  

“What are we going to do, President Cody?” Lever asked, his voice hesitant but hopeful. 

“We’re going to rebuild,” Cody said. “We’re going to organize ourselves and take on what we know needs to get finished until it’s done, and then we find new things to do.” 

Lever laughed. “It sounds simple when you say it like that, sir.” 

The din of the crowd in front of them, laughing, eating, and making merry made Cody feel like it could be that simple, for once. He gave Lever a small smile and shrugged. “We’re genetically engineered tacticians. Maybe it is that simple.” 

It moved something irrevocably in Cody to watch hope cross over Lever’s face. It brightened Lever’s eyes and softened his features, bringing a faint smile along with it. Cody wanted all of them to wear that look with ease. 

Lever held out his arm and Cody took it again. When they parted, Lever pulled him over to one of his batchmates and introduced them. From there, Cody greeted his next brother, and the next and the next. They were all the same as him, genetically, but he could see the variances in their eyes, in their tones of voice, in the way they said their names. And Cody would remember them all.

When he finally went to his pod, Cody found that he couldn’t sleep. His brain was racing, and he felt something fragile in his bones that shaped each and every atom of his being. He traced out the aurebesh lettering of his name on the ceiling above him and then beneath the empty space, he traced it again, in mando’a. 

Cody. Kote. 

Glory. 

He understood that his people had chosen him to stand up for them as the leader of this planet. They looked to him and saw their planet’s glory resting on his shoulders.

Cody didn’t feel ready. He didn't feel fit for the job, uneasy and uncertain under his skin, but the vode had put their faith in him. 

Kote. His name did not appear out of a vacuum. It had originally meant in battle, but Cody could adapt. Would adapt.

He closed his eyes and imagined that he was in one of the deserted hallways out by the decanting rooms where there were tiny port windows looking out over the expanse of ocean that made up Kamino. As the ocean swirled in his mind’s eye, Cody thought of the glory of his people, the legacy he wanted to give them more than anything and how he would work to get them there. 

They were the Kaminoans, now. 

Something inside Cody balked at the thought, though. Kamino was the planet run by those tall-necked bastards. Cody did not want the vode sullied by being related to them, and he began to draw the letters of words on the ceiling of his pod again in the almost-darkness.

He traced word after word, feeling them out and casting them aside. He began with Basic, but then reverted to the scraps of mando’a that he and his brothers had torn from their trainers by force and been given as precious gifts from A-017.

Kranak, Cody wrote. Our stronghold surrounded by water.  

The word settled into his bones, and even though he knew it was going to cost him a lot of paperwork and the confirmation of at least three-fourths of the citizens, Cody was not worried. 

This was a name that would bring them glory. 

Kote knew the citizens of his planet deserved no less.

Cody's Pod, Art by ReadingBlueWolf

Chapter Text

When Cody awoke, it was to the general alarm sound that he’d been waking up to for as long as he’d been alive. The events of the day previous were fresh on his mind, too clear to have been a dream, and yet there was a surreal quality to the memories that lingered longer than the two blinks it normally took Cody to orient himself in the mornings. 

A smile slid itself over his face, creeping and consuming. Cody had ideas. He had plans. He had things to do. Without another moment to waste, his hand found the release button of his pod, and he ejected himself out into the real world, where he was quickly greeted by loud, arguing voices.

“As I said, men, I will pass your concern along to President Cody as soon as he gets up. You have my word.” That was 2227’s voice. Cody wondered who he was trying to chase off with his tone that pointed and sharp; it must have been someone extremely persistent and annoying to warrant that much malice. 

“But this is fucking important!” It was another vod, then. 

Or, two of them, since another voice chimed in, “So, we will be staying right here until we see President Cody listening to you say it.” This vod was a little bit more pleasant, but there was a hint of steel to his voice that said 2227 was going to have to pull a blaster and fire it before he would move. 

Cody respected that kind of dedication, and decided to stop hiding in his pod, descending quickly to ask, “What’s going on here?” 

“Sir!” One of the men snapped to attention while the other one continued to glare at 2227, who was glaring back with just as much intensity. 

“I’m Waxer and that’s Boil and we need to do something about the kids.” 

Abruptly, Cody’s good mood fell. Osik, he hadn’t even thought about the younger vode. Last night, all of the focus had been on Kamino’s worldly future that the mundanities had been swept somewhat to the wayside. He turned to 2227, hoping that the other man might have an answer for him, but getting nothing. 

“2227, who is on the day-to-day?” Cody asked. 

“Fil and Gregor,” 2227 replied immediately. 

Cody nodded. That was good; some of each of Fil and Gregor’s parties could be reallocated to work on something for the cadets, and since Waxer and Boil had come to him with this issue, he was going to make them be in charge of it. 

“Waxer. Boil.” Cody offered his arm to each man, taking the time to commit their faces to memory before moving onto business. “Go find Fil and Gregor, let them know I sent you and that you can have a few of their men to occupy the children. Since you came to me with this, you’re in charge of it now. Report to either Gregor or Fil at the end of the day on your progress.” 

Boil spluttered. “In charge? Sir?” 

Cody looked at them. “You cared enough to come make sure they were being taken care of. That means you won’t make too big of a shu'shuk of it.” 

Waxer smiled, and Boil saluted. “Sir!” They both said, looking relieved. 

Cody couldn't help but smile back. “Thank you both. Now, go!” 

He had a feeling that Waxer and Boil would have liked to ask more questions, but the order made them gather themselves up and be on their way, military march forgotten for both of them to run out, Boil yelling something to Waxer about curriculum that only reinforced the idea that they would do well.

 Once they were out of earshot, 2227 looked at Cody with a scowl. “You let them get away with that a little too easily. What are you going to do every time somebody has an idea? You can’t just hold court all day.” 

Cody’s eyebrows raised at the comment, and he didn’t even have to say anything about the Mandalorian princess novels for 2227 to know that he was being insulted, rolling his eyes and throwing a ration bar at Cody’s face that he just barely caught before it hit. 

“Eat that. We have places to be today and things to do.” 

Cody unwrapped and ate the bar. It was as dry as yesterday’s had been, but he minded it a little bit less than normal. 

“You know,” he said to 2227, “you’re right. Holding court would be extremely inefficient.” 

2227 offered a dignified sniff at being proven right, and Cody barrelled onward in order to humble him as soon as possible.

“So we should have a suggestion survey. Think about it, the Commanders could go through it every meeting and that way it would be a streamlined process.” 

2227 opened his mouth and then closed it. Cody took a triumphant bite of his ration bar at the sight, and then 2227 sighed and got out his datapad, typing a quick note. 

“I’ll send word to Fox,” he grumbled, and Cody patted 2227 on the shoulder in commiseration even though he had won that one quite nicely. 

Staring down Prime Minister Lama Su was not how Cody wanted to be spending his morning. He’d put the longnecks here, and he’d hoped that he’d never have to see them again because of that. 

But Lama Su had been the one to take the commission to make the clones, and Cody needed to see if he would be willing to give them any information. Cody knew that it might have been a better choice to talk to Nala Se, the head scientist of the program, but he thought she would probably be unwilling to talk to him, since he had been the one to shoot her in the shoulder. 

Keller and Colt were the ones on guard duty right now, Appo and his men having been excused to rest and get their chips removed. Colt had confirmed they were unable to get any real information out of any of the Kaminoans or trainers so far except for some useless bits about Prime (he had been a bounty hunter, he was from Concord Dawn, and he was a “prime genetic candidate,” whatever that meant). The only slightly helpful thing they had learned was from Taun We, Lama Su’s aide. 

“Apparently, you know that kid we saw Prime with who looked like us? His name was Boba and he was a clone too, but he didn’t get any mods. Prime took him as his son. The aide helped look after him and she said that Prime is dead now, so she has no idea where the little rascal is,” Colt had reported, and then he grimaced. “Apparently Taun We’s worried about the kid.” 

Cody remembered seeing Prime’s kid. He’d looked like a cadet, which had confused Cody to no end, because he’d been running around Prime and laughing about something, and Prime had been smiling at him. 

In Cody’s experience, the few times he’d gotten to see Prime, the man didn’t smile often. He’d wondered what the cadet had done to get Prime to be so familiar with him. That cadet actually being his son made much more sense, an old mystery that Cody had been holding on to finally solved. 

But he hadn’t come here for information about Boba Fett. Cody was here to see what Lama Su could tell him about how modified their genetics were and what the consequences of those modifications were. The inhibitor chips, of course, they knew all about. But they’d also been made more docile, less individualistic, and had their growth accelerated. Cody needed to know if there was anything else, and he needed to know what this meant for them.

So he stood in the center of one of the few personal cells across from Lama Su with Keller lounging in the corner, a gun in his hand. Lama Su was much taller than him, but Cody kept his arms crossed and his face neutral as he stared up, waiting for his question to be answered.   

“My apologies, CC-2224,” Lama Su said, sounding not sorry at all, the bastard. “But I have no need to comply with your demands. You are our property. And if you believe that the Republic will entertain your delusions of grandeur, then you are a fool.” 

Cody grit his teeth. He wanted to punch Lama Su so badly, but he couldn't. Using all the control in his body, Cody replied, “You are the fool. We’ve already submitted a petition to join the Republic and we have people on the other side just waiting to accept. You’re not necessary any longer. If you happened to get the same treatment as Nala Se, nobody would look twice.” 

Lama Su shook his head sadly. “You are an imperfect product. We should have terminated you a long time ago.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Cody saw Keller hefting his gun. Lama Su stopped talking immediately.

“If you won’t tell us anything useful, then I’m leaving,” Cody said. This was a waste of his time.

Lama Su considered this for a moment, and Cody turned as if to walk out the door before he said, with perhaps the most emotion that Cody had ever heard from him, “ You cannot remove the inhibitor chips. Removing them will make you unstable.”  

Lies, lies, and more lies. He didn’t want to listen to this osik any more. He gestured for Keller to follow him on his way out. He didn’t look back.  

By late afternoon, after being wanted and needed everywhere, Cody had completely conceded ultimate defeat to 2227. He did need an assistant. He’d be dead right now if not for 2227 keeping him on track, dragging him out of messes, and shoving food and water into his hands at somehow perfect intervals. 

There had been a lot of progress, though. 

Of the 915,307 clones currently living on world, the medics and medical droids had managed to remove 85,495 chips. Monnk had introduced Cody to a medic named Kix who he said had started operations as soon as the orders had reached his comm last night, having already set up a schedule for his men to come through. All other medics had quickly jumped on board, and since the surgeries didn’t take more than five minutes to complete once the medics had learned what to do, the process had been simple enough. Monnk even had Davijaan requisition some men to help become nurses for the day and monitor the recovery of those in surgery to free up more of the medics who were fit to perform surgery. 

There had also been real progress from the team in charge of Kamino’s resource gathering, and Stone had read a full report to Cody detailing the amount of water they had, what equipment they would need to begin processing more seafood, the space they would need in order to do so, the amount of brothers needed to work on the project, and how much they could get away with taking per year before they would need to set up farms to ensure the health of the ecosystem.

Faie had cornered the two of them and quickly let Cody know that they had enough food and rations to last them another five years and told him the rest was unimportant for now, which had been very nice, so Cody didn’t have to worry about that. 

The expansion plans already had blueprints drafted for the spaces that Wolffe, Jet, and Bacara worked out they would need as well as plans to renovate some of the existing rooms they had into more useful spaces. A few of the training grounds here and some of the longnecks’ space there would go a long way.

Gregor and Fil had their hands too full to make their report in person, but had sent along a shiny, 9207, to let Cody know they were having no trouble running the kitchens, cleaning the facilities that needed it, and putting people on watching the cadets and embryos. 9207 also reported that Waxer and Boil had begun researching curriculum for the cadets that was not centered around war, which Cody was surprised and pleased to hear. 

The Jedi had made themselves useful as well, and Cody had seen the three of them throughout the day helping with various tasks, bouncing from project to project as need dictated. 

Now, Cody was making his way to speak with Fox and Blackout before 2227 was going to force Cody into a real chair to eat dinner. 

Out of everyone in command, Fox was the best slicer. He didn’t advertise the fact much, but it was the truth. Blackout was second best, but Fox had once told Cody that Blackout didn’t have enough finesse to surpass him, which was why he was ranked first.

Cody, personally, had only enough coding skills to get past the basic class that every clone had to take, reinforced a few years later by a single crash course from a guest lecturer A-017 had brought into the ARC classroom.

They would never get their assignments, now. That life was never going to happen. But, before the revolution, there were whispers that Fox was going to be stationed somewhere where he’d be able to put those skills to use, like a more permanent ground position on Coruscant or on a flagship where he could intercept and decode enemy information. 

With the way Cody walked in on Fox and his four slicers working, all of them clustered around one computer muttering over some bit of code on one vod’s terminal, Cody knew that Fox would have excelled at that job. 

He was excelling at it now. 

One of the slicers looked up after a few moments and smiled upon seeing Cody and 2227 in their workspace. 

“Prez Cody!” He yelled. “Welcome!” 

The others all looked up, the one whose terminal they were all around blinking owlishly. 

Cody nodded to them. “Men. What are you working on?” 

“Subter here is working on an intranet, and we’re critiquing his code,” said another. He waved them over. “Come see.” 

Cody came over and had the pleasure of listening to the men— their names were Subterfuge, Patience, Grip, and Topple— bicker about the intranet and its functions with Fox presiding in the back. They were squabbling about some minor details (widgets, functions, coding practices and how to run security), but Cody was in awe at the scope of the program, which had been put together by Subterfuge mostly on his own. 

He’d come up with the idea, and explained to Cody that the clones should have a central place to go for news and communication. Since they all had personal comms, he wanted to make something that was accessible through those devices. 

It truly was a brilliant idea. Subterfuge also explained how the name survey was included, and Cody asked him quietly while Patience, Grip, and Topple were occupied with their fight if he thought he could put in some form of submission box as he’d discussed with 2227 earlier. Subterfuge looked very intrigued at the prospect and added it to his to-do list immediately while 2227, who was standing next to Cody, rolled his eyes. 

It was then that Cody noted that Fox seemed a little bit distracted. He was still listening to his men with amusement and directing them toward logical points in their arguments, but Cody could tell there was something that was bothering him. It was in the way he glanced down and to the side, the little firmness to his mouth and twist in its corner that wouldn’t go away. He would have to take Fox aside and make sure he was doing alright before he left.

Subterfuge threw himself back into the argument between the others when Topple tried to lean over and type something into the command line, and it devolved from there.

Cody did learn in the next whirlwind hour, about the rest of the initiatives. Topple’s efforts were focused on parsing through the scientific documents in league with two medics, one named Ribo and the other who still went by 6092, to figure out the intricacies of the changes to their genome from that of Prime’s. Patience was working to uncover the paper trails behind who asked for and paid for the clones’ development. Grip, last but not least, was tasked with ensuring there was no hidden data in the Kaminonans’ devices or servers.

Cody also was told that Blackout was sleeping, because he’d refused to, and the men he was leading refused to go until he did. That lasted until Fox had grown tired of it and instructed Topple to switch out his caf with something ineffectual. Shoring up their defenses in case of an attack from the outside or from the inside could wait a little bit longer. 

At the end of the meeting, Cody felt like his brain was going to explode, and 2227’s fingers and wrists looked like they were right along with him from all the notes he’d taken. 

He hadn’t forgotten about Fox, though, and asked 2227 to meet him in thirty minutes for lunch before dragging one of his closest brothers into the next room and locking the door behind them.

“What is it?”

Fox looked at him blankly for a minute, but the longer the silence went on, the higher Cody raised his eyebrow. It was a technique he was 100% stealing from A-017 and Fox knew it, but that didn’t lessen its efficacy. 

Fox’s face distorted; crinkling in a way Cody had never seen it before. He exhaled and ran a hand over the front of his face, and then found the nearest chair and sat down hard. 

Shit. This was not going to be a fun conversation.

Cody followed and sat next to Fox. He stayed quiet, let the silence rest while Fox gathered himself enough to speak. 

“I’ve read through files about the experiments,” Fox said. “The ones done on the very first clones, a whole class above the Alphas. Did you know that the first six of them died? Didn’t even get past the embryonic stages because of how fast they were trying to accelerate the growth. One of them apparently just fucking exploded.” 

Cody shuddered, and tried his best not to picture the cold, clinical look on the Kaminoans’ faces faced with the viscera of an exploding child.

“There was more. I won’t go into detail, but they wrote down with clarity what they did to us. And all of those files were easy to find. All of them. They were easy to break into. But today? I found something else completely segmented from the rest of the data that the regular admin codes don’t work on and it’s locked behind the most robust firewall I’ve ever seen. I don’t know what it is. And I’m not entirely sure I want to find out.” 

Cody wasn’t sure he wanted to know either when Fox put it like that, but they needed to find out. What could possibly be so bad that the Kaminoans locked it away? 

“We have to know,” Cody confirmed, though he was sure Fox already knew. “If anyone can do it, it’s you. And if you don’t want to read what’s in there, send it to me. I’ll do it.” 

Fox knocked his shoulder into Cody’s, jostling him affectionately. “Hey, you can’t steal my damn job from me.” 

Cody turned his head, finally looking into Fox’s eyes. “I could never,” he said sincerely over the joke. 

Fox punched him hard enough that he fell off the bench. Cody grumbled and shoved off the arm he held out to help him up.

They would figure it out.

Cody conceded to the meal 2227 forced him into the mess to eat. He tried to get in line, but it parted for him in a way that made Cody a little bit uncomfortable, the faces of his brothers looking upon him with pride even though Cody had barely done anything yet.

His stomach churned with guilt, but 2227 pushed him forward, thanking everyone they were stepping in front of. Belatedly, Cody realized he was being silent and opened his mouth to thank everyone as well, his lips and tongue forming the words clumsily. 

Gregor, who was bellowing something in the kitchens, threw Cody a wink when he caught a glimpse of him passing by. Cody’s tray was filled with the same perfectly balanced meal as always, and he took it to a table in order to shove it into his mouth. 

Haran, the mess was different. Even from the day previous, when the solemn muted atmosphere and soon-to-be-delivered assignment dates loomed over them. Now, it was a place of gathering. It reminded Cody of the little free time they had been given as cadets, unsupervised and raucous, brothers playing games and laughing. Being loud. Not having to follow orders, but just be. 

Maybe he had done something. 

“Shit.” Never mind. Cody was stupid, how could he have forgotten? 

“What?” Inquired 2227, looking up from his meal.

Cody frowned. “I forgot to ask Subterfuge about Kranak.” 

2227 made an inquiring noise, and Cody realized that he hadn’t told anyone about his idea to rename their planet yet. With excitement, Cody took the last few bites of the portion of hot food on his plate, and after swallowing, he began to explain the story. How he’d felt about their identity, the history of this planet and its people and how that wasn’t theirs. How Cody wanted to craft them a legacy of their own. 

When he finished, he turned to 2227, waiting to hear his thoughts. 

“Well, it’s a damned good idea,” he said. “But now you can’t tell me that you never read those Mandolorian princess novels, because I swear your sense of dramatics is fit to rival—” 

Cody kicked him in the shin. Asshole.

After dinner, he’d managed to give 2227 the slip again, wanting just a moment of peace. There was so much to be done, and so much done yet already; Cody just needed a moment to feel it all out. 

He wound down the familiar passageways that he’d taken to slipping down as a cadet, the first time he’d taken the gift of freedom by force and explored beyond the narrow halls he knew to be his. Kamino had seemed like a big world, then. Cody was almost surprised to see how small it felt, now. 

When he arrived at his destination, Cody stopped and looked out the tiny little window down by the decanting rooms and watched the ocean’s tumultuous tides crash and collide while his thoughts raced, chanting over and over about what his next move should be.

He wasn’t alone for more than twenty minutes before Bly found him. Cody didn’t know how Bly managed it, exactly, but he’d always been good about finding Cody right when he needed to with Rex trailing not far behind. 

“Cody,” Bly said, coming to stand in parade rest at his side as Cody stared out the little window of the deserted hallway. 

“Bly,” Cody said back. 

One of the good things about Bly was that he knew when silence was a good thing. Maybe that was just because he had been so fucking obsessed with bugs as a cadet. When doing training sims on exotic worlds, Bly always knew the names of the fauna and got too into explaining them, his eyes too big and wide for the subject at hand. But then he’d still when one of the bugs came near, hoping that the creature— even just its holoprojected replication— would do him the honor of alighting on his skin. 

So, they sat in silence. Cody watched the waves churn beneath him, not really thinking about anything in particular but soaking up Bly’s presence next to him in a way that was healing. He’d gotten too big to share a pod with another vod, but something about the air around the two of them felt similar to that. 

Cody didn’t know how long they stood there, tension leaching out of his bones slowly and his mind slowing from frantic circles to lazy loops, his eyes growing heavy.

“Good?” Bly asked.

Cody’s lips quirked up. “Better,” he admitted. None of his still pressing issues had been fixed, but they somehow felt more manageable after sharing this space with Bly. “Thanks.” 

Bly smiled back at him and clapped Cody on the shoulder. “No problem. Now go to sleep, you obstinate di'kut.” 

Cody laughed and conceded, making his way back to his pod before climbing in and succumbing once more to sleep.

Chapter Text

With another day came another meeting. And with the meeting came a sneaking suspicion that Cody was going to get sick of them quickly, because walking into this one 2227 presented him with an agenda with at least ten bullet points on it. 

“You have half an hour to get through all of those,” he said briskly. 

Cody looked at him incredulously. “We can’t get through all of this in half an hour, are you crazy?” 

2227 shoved a mug of caf into his hands. “Yes you can, and you have shit to do today, so you better make it snappy.” 

Cody was quickly becoming too afraid of 2227 to refuse. 

“I have an update from Senator Amidala,” Knight Kenobi said once the meeting had begun. “Emergency Chancellor Organa has accepted your petition. Kamino is officially a planet of the Republic.” 

And Cody didn't give a shit about decorum, because at that declaration he and his brothers were up on their feet whooping and clapping and cheering. Davijaan hugged Cody too tightly, and Cody was overcome; he could do nothing but hug back with that same strength. When they parted, Monnk reached over and slapped Cody on the back; Fox gripped his forearm so tight it might burst, and Bacara gave him a sharp nod with his eyes full of pride, others reaching to pat his head or punch his shoulder or give him a noogie, in Blackout’s case. 

“Good work,” Cody said to everyone. “This was all of us.” 

“I would like to discuss the aid we are planning to send, if you do not mind,” Plo Koon said once everyone had returned to their seats. “The three of us have been communicating with the Temple to work out the best schedule for sending over EduCorps, AgriCorps, and a few ExplorCorps members to aid you in the development and expansion of your planet. Additionally, we were hoping to send over some scientists with relevant expertise to assist you in finding solutions to some of your concerns about your genome.” 

Cody wasn’t thrilled about having random scientists come to poke around with the clones’ DNA, but then remembered that since he was president, he could make them sign some sort of privacy document to make sure they couldn’t do anything with the information. That fear satisfied, he looked over to 2227. He, after all, was the one with the schedule. Cody had no idea what would happen in the next two hours, let alone the next three weeks.

“To be honest, Master Koon, the sooner the better,” 2227 replied. 

“We will let them know not to hold, then.” 

Shaak Ti smiled and inserted herself into the conversation. “Unfortunately, that brings us to our next point: we are preparing to leave and shall do so this afternoon; at the latest, this evening. We’re needed on Coruscant right now.” 

Cody froze in his seat. A new contingent of Jedi were going to be on their way and their current Jedi were going to leave? Something about that rankled Cody, leaving him set him on edge. These three Jedi were good, but that didn’t mean they all were. An entire contingent of unknowns showing up on his planet didn’t exactly fill him with glee.

 However, he did understand that they needed to leave, and had been prepared to let them go even earlier. Forcing himself to relax, Cody reminded himself that he couldn’t make them stay. 

“Of course, Master Ti,” he said, and offered each of the Jedi sharp nods. “We’re sorry to see you go, but needs must.”

“Sirs, your assistance in moving that sheet metal and the crates was irreplaceable,” chimed in Jet. 

“Yeah, I have no clue what we would have done without your advice on fish processing, Master Koon,” Stone said. 

Bly smirked at his end of the table and offered a salute toward Kenobi. “I couldn’t have wrestled that batch of shinies away from their work without your help, sir.” 

The Jedi looked pleased, and a few more of the commanders offered thanks before the three of them really needed to continue packing up before they were to leave. 

“You are capable of doing this on your own,” Plo Koon promised, and then they were gone. 

There was a moment of silence. 

“That was nice,” Wolffe said, “but who else is extremely not confident in our ability to handle this on our own?” 

Everyone’s laughter was tinged with just a bit of hysteria, Cody’s included. He did have his doubts every day, but he knew that everyone was doing everything they could, and all they could hope was that it would be enough. 

There was an unspoken agreement to quickly move their discussion along. There was a whirlwind of activity happening on the planet at all times, vode taking on and off shifts in order to ensure constant work. The plans that were drafted for the expansion over the water had been finalized and were beginning to be built. Rooms were in the process of being converted and stripped for building materials. There had been an update in the amount of clones that had their chips removed up to 48% completion. Their food stock was fine. They had figured out the desalination factory’s hold limits and figured out how much water they could stand to sell per year along with seaweed and the rest of the ocean produce. The cadets were doing fine, the embryos were doing fine, the troopers were doing fine. 

The only person with bad news to report was Fox. He told everyone what he’d told Cody about the file and how hidden it was, and Cody looked around at the grim faces lining the table. He took another sip of his good caf, but even that wasn’t enough to cheer him up. 

“The fuck could they be hiding?” Bacara said. “I don’t like this.” 

“That’s precisely what I said,” Cody agreed. He had not been able to fully get that question out of his mind, and all of the answers he’d come up with were ones he hadn’t liked. 

“I mean, after finding out they put a chip in our heads with kill orders on it we’re programmed to follow, I can’t really put anything past the longnecks,” Faie said, and Cody agreed with that point heartily. 

“Maybe it’s better not to speculate,” Jet said wryly. 

Monnk nodded at Jet’s comment and interjected, “Well, we aren’t going to know what it is until we do. No use worrying about it until then.” 

“Not that this isn’t important, but we have so many other things to worry about,” Davijaan said tiredly. Cody made a mental note to shove him into a pod right after this meeting ended. 

“And in the meantime, we have our best man on the job— if anybody can crack this thing, it’ll be Fox,” Blackout agreed. 

Fox looked like he didn’t quite agree with that statement, but having Blackout be the one to say he was the best slicer they had made him keep his mouth shut. Cody was thankful it had been him to say it, then.

2227’s typing continued a moment before stopping. “Alright sirs,” 2227 said, “next on the agenda is Kranak. Cody?” 

All of the heads at the table turned to him, Davijaan giving Cody a look that meant You’re keeping things from me now? Its eyebrow was lower than normal. Davi must really be tired, then. Cody was going to have to—

“Cody?” 2227 said, this time more sharply.

Cody cleared his throat. For whatever reason, he was a little embarrassed about the idea, but at the same time, it was necessary. If they were to enter the Republic, their planet should wholly be theirs . 

“I think we should rename our planet,” Cody said. “Kamino was the longnecks’. I think that Kranak could be ours. If you think it’s viable, we’d have everyone vote on it, of course. Three-fourths approval.” 

“That’s the water fortress word, right?” Wolffe asked. “Because if it is, I like it.” 

Cody confirmed that Wolffe had it right, and Davijaan’s look morphed into a pleased expression. Mando’a was something that he and Davijaan and 2227 had practiced together, when they were still able to share their pods with each other. They would stay up way past regulation lights out to whisper the words between them, coming up with sentences without knowing how to conjugate the verbs and making sure there was nothing they would forget. 

The words had been something to hold onto. They had been part of the identity Cody had formed from nothing to something along with the scar on his face and the number that he would never forget meant him . 

“It’s about time someone brought that up,” Gree said. “The Kaminoans are part of our history but they don’t define us. We need to make this place our own, and this is a good step, along with it being a fine name, Cody. I’m in.” 

Fil nodded in agreement along with Doom, Stone, and Thire, who were all sitting around Gree. 

“That settles it,” Cody said. “Fox, can you ask Subterfuge to put out a survey on the intranet? And then, 2227, put that on the announcements list as well.” 

2227 let out a noise of agreement, and Cody saw his fingers’ speed begin to increase on his datapad. 

Fox nodded sharply and said, “Yes, of course I’ll do that— Gregor, what the fuck are you doing?” 

Cody whipped his head to the left just in time to see Gregor freeze. He was holding a ration bar in one hand, half-dunked into a mug of caf while a put upon expression dawned upon his face. 

“I’m making this damned ration bar edible is what I’m doing,” he declared. Then pulled the ration bar out and took a big bite, chewing defiantly while staring Fox down to the cheers and boos and fake retching of the other commanders.

“You’re ruining perfectly good caf!” Fox cried, and Cody quite agreed. Colt reached for a ration bar himself and Bly looked disgusted at the prospect. 

“No wait, he has a point,” Wolffe said. “The bars are dry as fuck and tasteless— the caf helps with both of those issues, doesn’t it?” 

Gregor pointed at Wolffe with feeling. “Absolutely yes. Thank you, Wolffe.”

Colt was trying it now, Blackout looking severely tempted to join him. Faie dunked a bar into a fresh mug of caf along with Monnk, and after they’d pulled the bars out they tapped them together in some bizarre toast before eating. 

Cody looked to Davijaan and whispered, “I’m not the only one besides Fox who thinks that’s gross, am I? Tell me you’re sane Davi, please.” 

Davijaan shot him an incredulous eyebrow. “Of course that’s fucking disgusting. I’m not a heathen.” 

They both looked to 2227 only to find him watching the proceedings with a horrified fascination. Gregor and Wolffe had recruited Faie and Colt, who were yelling at Fox and Monnk, who had apparently hated it. Appo stood up out of his seat to say “Why the fuck are we still eating these piece of shit ration bars anyway?” which just caused even more chaos. 

2227 groaned from beside Cody and buried his face in his hands. 

Cody laughed. “I told you thirty minutes wasn’t going to be enough.” He took another sip of his caf. 

“I hate you,” 2227 replied before he recovered and went back to his notebook with impressive aplomb, as if the shouting and pointing and caf-machine-raiding happening on the other side of the room did not exist. “I’ll start drafting your daily announcements right now, then.”  

The chaos continued and Cody was content to lean back in his chair and watch with amusement as it all devolved. He leaned towards Davijaan and said, “I bet within the next two minutes Gregor challenges someone to a wrestling match.” 

“I’m not taking that bet,” Davijaan replied immediately. “I’d lose.” 

Cody laughed for a minute but realized: this is what he’d become president for right here.

2227 hustled Cody down the corridor, and Cody let him. They weren’t headed to the announcement room, but instead a destination Cody hadn’t been informed of. 

“We’re meeting with 8209,” 2227 said, somehow reading Cody’s mind. 

He’d never heard of 8209 before, and so enquired, “For…?” 

2227 shot him a look. “Do you even read the suggestion box? It was your idea, wasn’t it?” 

“I do read it,” Cody protested, but 2227 cut him off.

“You obviously don’t, because if you did then you’d know who 8209 is,” he said, the dry exasperation making its way through his tone. 

And so maybe Cody hadn’t read the suggestion box asks in the last few days. They’d been busy, sue him. Besides, that’s what he had 2227 for, after all: to assist him. 

2227 just sped up to a clip that didn’t allow them to talk, which was annoying, but Cody would let him have it for now. He guessed the meeting with 8209 would just have to be a surprise, then.

When 2227 stopped in front of a nondescript door after 59 more paces, Cody almost ran into his back. They were in the middle of nowhere; Cody hadn’t expected him to stop here. 

“8209 should be here soon,” 2227 said. 

Cody gave a judgmental look around the corridor. “And where is here?” 

“Your office, obviously,” 2227 drawled before opening the door to a room with a desk, a couple comfy looking chairs, and a wall of transparisteel. 

Mesmerized, Cody stepped into it, running his fingers over the surface of the dark plasteel desk. After a moment, he turned around, ready to ask 2227 when he’d had the time to set this up, but 2227 again beat him to it. 

“When you sneak off, I do still do things, you know? And you’re our president. Of course I had to get you an office.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but didn’t manage to get anything out before there was a knock on the door, a voice calling, “Hello sir! May I enter?” 

There was a vod standing in the doorway with hair slightly longer than regulation and parted on the left side, an air of nervousness about him that manifested in the not-assured tilt to his smile. 

“Of course,” Cody said, and the three of them fell into the chairs that 2227 had appropriated. They were padded like no cahir Cody had ever sat in before, and he blinked in surprise at how nice it was. 

“8209 here was wondering if he could take over announcements,” 2227 finally told Cody, who had no issues with that at all. It must have taken some guts to— and Cody was guessing, now, but the pieces fit— send in an ask that large through the suggestion box. 

“I don’t have a problem with that,” Cody said. “And just in time— you can start with today’s.” 

8209 looked at Cody like he hadn’t expected it to be that easy, but Cody just nodded to 2227 to give him the list of announcements for today, 2227 doing so without complaint.

He gave 8209 a moment to read through the list until the man gasped, which made Cody smile. He must have gotten to the—

“President Cody, sir, are you sure you want me to announce that the planet is free?” 

Well, Cody didn’t really want to do it. “Yes. It makes for an auspicious start, doesn’t it?”

When he heard 8209’s voice read it out clear and strong half an hour later, he could hear the cries of joy echo all the way down the hall to reach him and smiled.   

Cody waved off 2227 as he saw the incoming comm was from Fox. He was glad that 2227 had forced him into this office space, if only for the privacy it would afford him during this call.

He picked up. “Fox?” 

Fox was staring right into the projector. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept since Cody had gone to visit him and his men. “I got it, Cody.” 

Immediately, Cody perked up. This was about that file. 

“And?” 

Cody could see Fox taking a breath, slow on the inhale followed by a short burst of air outward. “It’s about the Alpha clones.” 

The thing was: the Alpha class clones were not people Cody was well acquainted with, for the most part. There was A-017, who had trained him and the rest of the commanders selected for the ARC program, and there was A-099, whose growth cycle had malfunctioned and left him unable to perform combat. Cody had met ’99 many times during his janitorial rounds, and he’d been an affectionate favorite among the cadets. 

Those were the only two Alpha class clones he had ever met, and yet. One day— Cody didn’t recall when— he’d just stopped seeing the two of them around. It had to have been after the commanders completed their ARC training, but there was no definitive point in Cody’s mind as to when. 

Before Fox had brought them up yesterday, Cody hadn’t been thinking of them much, honestly. He’d been too worried about Rex and Ponds and Neyo out fighting on Geonosis and wondering when he, too, was going to be sent out to join them. 

But this made sense. They had just disappeared, and there was no telling what the Kaminoans might have done to them. 

“I didn’t get much, but the one file I managed to uncover says that the Alpha class clones are ‘in storage until such a later date that we may require them’.” 

“In storage?” Cody asked. They probably weren’t dead; thank goodness, but that left too many possibilities for Cody to be satisfied. The longnecks were awful fucking bastards, after all. “What in haran does that mean?” 

Fox shook his head. “No clue. And that’s what worries me.” 

Cody agreed wholeheartedly with that statement. “Can you get anything else?”

“I can try, but I’m not sure how long it will take. But, if storage has held this long, it will continue to hold.” 

That was true enough, Cody supposed, but he didn’t want to wait. “I can try to go ask them,” Cody offered, and then clarified, “The Kaminoans.” 

Fox made a face of distaste. “Didn’t you say that they were fucking jerks last time though?” 

Cody shrugged. “It can’t hurt to try. I’ll bring Bacara with me,” he joked, and then realized it was a good idea and made a mental note to do so.

There was a knock on his office door. It was 2227. 

“I have to run,” Cody said. “Keep trying, I’ll talk to the longnecks and get back to you.” 

Fox saluted and then they both hung up, Cody now with the weight of this issue in the back of his mind. 

“Cody? The Jedi are about to leave, if you want to send them off you need to leave now.” 2227 called through the door. 

Cody stood. As always, there were more things to do. He could think about this and its implications later.  

Cody and 2227 arrived at the hangar just in time. 

“Master Jedi!” Cody called, waving them down as the ramp to their ship lowered, the engines clearly already warming up. 

The three Jedi turned to him. Kenobi smiled, Shaak Ti inclined her head, and Plo Koon’s face had that same expression of happiness that Cody had seen on him after Cody’s first speech. 

“President Cody,” Kenobi said warmly. “We’re glad to see you one last time before we have to go.” 

“It’s my pleasure. I’m glad I was able to catch you. I wanted to offer my thanks for all that you’ve done for my people and our planet. I know why you did it wasn’t completely altruistic, but we couldn’t have done this without your assistance.” 

Shaak Ti frowned, sorrow marring her kind face. “You’re very welcome, President Cody. We all would have hated to lead you in a war none of us wanted to fight. We’re looking forward to seeing what great things you will do.” 

“And I will be back,” promised Plo Koon. “Here, let us give you our comm numbers. Let us stay in touch.” 

These Jedi were more than Cody expected. He’d been extremely wary of them at first due to the absolute picture of perfection they’d been painted as by the trainers. But they had shown him through their actions that they were empathetic, strong, and kind. It was nice to see that people like them did exist in the universe. 

Cody and 2227 exchanged comm numbers with them all, because Cody joked that they needed to have 2227’s number in case Cody’s inbox was full, which was a distinct possibility. 

It was not long before the three of them started to make their way towards the ramp, but right before they disappeared from sight, Kenobi turned around and ran back down.

“Let me take a message back to your brother,” he said. “I think he’d be glad to hear from you.” 

The sentence hadn’t even fully come out of Kenobi’s mouth before Cody had agreed. Kenobi was thankfully prepared, and quickly set down the little holorecorder. Not even taking any time to prepare, Cody just let the words spill out.

“Rex,” he said. “I hope you’re doing well. Stay safe out there, vod. Make sure everyone is doing well and ensure that Ponds and Neyo don’t run themselves into the ground. You can tell them I said so. Your absence is noted. All of you. Don’t extend it more than you have to.” He nodded, clearing his throat, then turned the recording off. 

He hadn’t realized how much he missed Rex and the others until he’d had to make the video, but it hit him right there. He’d been worrying about the brat since the moment he’d left, and though Cody had buried it, the feeling had never really gone away. He knew Rex would be fine. He was an inventive little shit. But Cody was used to having him here, talking to him much more often than this. 

And Ponds too. He was one of the people that Cody was used to working with, who was adept at forming plans with him, who led batches of shinies through an exercise opposite to Cody’s own, trash talking over whose group would win.

He missed Neyo’s quiet presence too; his quick ideas and sharp eyes that never missed a thing. He was an excellent shot and an even more excellent leader who did not lead loudly but instead softly in a way that made you want to follow him.

Kenobi noticed the emotion in Cody’s face and reached out his arm like the vode did. Cody huffed in amusement, but reached out and gripped his forearm in return. 

“Gar dral bal atin,” Kenobi said in Mando'a. It was so surprising that Cody had to blink three times before his brain processed it. “Ret'urcye mhi.”

“Ni vercopaane balyc gar haa'taylir tug'yc," Cody barely got out. 

Then Kenobi nodded sharply and let go, turning to leave and calling over his shoulder, “Comm me anytime! I mean it.” 

Moments later, the ramp raised and the ship took off, the three Jedi leaving behind a planet whose destiny they had just helped flip along with its bewildered president. 

Two more long, hard, fulfilling days passed Cody by like an intense sparring session.  Things on-world were, dare he say it, starting to fall into place. 2227 had begun making a daily schedule for Cody and then prepping him on it. The office space that had been appropriated for him near Meeting Room Five was spacious and even had windows that looked out over Kamino’s sea, but Cody didn’t get to spend very much time there.  

He spent as much time as he was able assisting with everything, checking in with his commanders, meeting more of his brothers, trying to come up with solutions to their problems, and solidifying plans for the future after several meetings with Blackout that he later shared with the rest of the commanders and ended up bringing Doom and Havoc into, since they had more time and a few inventive things to add; Doom bringing up the point that they would be able to sell salt along with their other exports and Havoc beginning to press Cody about governmental structure and law. 

Cody had also begun to receive comm messages from people off world, which was a new but not unwelcome experience, especially when he went to his office after helping Fil chase down several mouse droids only to discover that he’d gotten several messages from Kenobi and messages from two unknown comm frequencies. 

from Obi-Wan Kenobi

The Corps are on the way to Kamino! I also

wanted to apologize in advance— I’ve forwarded

your comm frequency to a couple of people I know

that I think you should know: Senator Amidala

and the new Chancellor, Bail Organa. Good luck

with everything, Cody, and my comm is always open.

from Obi-Wan Kenobi

Cody, this is Ponds. Neyo is commentating and

looking over my shoulder. 138,964 of us lived

Geonosis. All brothers here have had their chips

removed. We are gathering with the Jedi corps (who

are not full Jedi? We are  confused about this.)

and will return, but we are  told that Kamino is in

chaos right now. We will  return in a month to give

you time to sort things  out, but I am sending Rex

back with the Jedi  relief forces. We look forward

to seeing you then,  very much.

from Obi-Wan Kenobi

It’s Rex. I miss the fuck out of you but things 

have been v interesting on Coruscant. I’ve made 

friends and our lives have changed so much in just

this short amount of time. I hear you’re  president,

btw???? What’s up with that????  Don’t kill yourself

working too hard before I get back. You’re not

responsible for every little  thing if sthg goes

wrong it’s not always your  fault REMEMBER THAT!!!!

Tell Davi hi for me  & get some sleep. pl e a se.

from UNKNOWN FREQUENCY

Hello! This is Bail Organa; my friend Obi-Wan reached

out and gave me your comm frequency so we could

connect privately. It’s nice to meet  you, President

Cody. The Republic is glad to have  Kamino as its newest

member! I know things are  getting started over there,

but here are a few things  you should know… [click to expand]

from UNKNOWN FREQUENCY

President Cody, this is Senator Amidala; Obi-Wan 

forwarded me your frequency. Congratulations on 

everything you’ve accomplished so far. When you 

have the time, I would love to chat with you. I’m 

hoping I’m not overstepping, but I think that Kamino 

can be a very powerful force of change in the Republic 

and I would love to help you along that journey.

Cody felt lucky for everything that he had and replied to the comms with tears in his eyes. Things really were looking up, and Cody would not let them plummet down when he was the one driving their forces to the top. 

He had allies. He had his brothers. There was nothing that could stop them now.

Whenever he could, Cody slipped away from his duty and went into the crowd of his brothers. He learned their names, worked alongside them, heard their stories, discovered who they were. He met all kinds of clones with all kinds of dreams that they were still just discovering, and in them Kote saw Kranak’s glory. 

He met a vod named Aarte who wanted to be a chef. Cody told him to go work in the mess and make their meals taste good. He met a vod named Ren who wanted to be a pilot. Cody pulled them over to Davijaan to have a chat. He met a vod named Splash who wanted to be a mechanic. Cody told them they were in charge of checking over the ships in the hangar bay. He met a vod named Kord who said that he didn’t want to do any of this, really, would it be okay for him to make music instead? Cody scrounged through the longnecks’ shit with 2227 on his tail asking what the fuck he was doing until he found an old guitar hung up on somebody’s wall and gave it to Kord happily. 

He felt, then, just a little bit like he was making a difference.

And it wasn’t just Cody that was making a difference. The commanders’ next meeting reported that over half of the clones had had their chips removed so far. There were new structures beginning to be built that looked pretty damn good so far with the recycled materials they were using, and there were more schematics finalized that would wait to be built until the Jedi Corps arrived with all of the materials they were bringing. 

Subterfuge had managed to start up the intraweb, which Cody had the pleasure of announcing the morning after its competition on his daily spiel, and already about one third of clones had filled out the naming certificate he’d sent out. A few things had come up in the suggestion box that had begun to be implemented as well, including a sign up sheet being posted to the intranet in which the clones could sign up for different duties they wished to perform throughout the day. The survey for Kamino’s name to be changed to Kranak was almost— but not quite— done being voted on, but it looked like the name would pass with much more than the required three-fourths approval. 

Earlier today, Cody had dropped in on Waxer and Boil’s school. There were things that Cody had very much enjoyed about being a cadet, and things that he shuddered to remember. Learning for the clones had been done at terminals, where they read information in silence and then were tested on it and expected to only answer ten out of five hundred wrong— or better. The classroom had been silent and prowled by longnecks. 

Waxer and Boil’s classrooms were nothing like that. They’d found paint somewhere and  the walls were covered in it. The terminals had been pushed against a wall, and cadets sat at groups of desks, each group studying a different topic that they had chosen from a list that Waxer had prepared. When every group was done, they would present their findings to the rest of the class, who would take notes on their datapads.  

There had still been hand to hand lessons in the afternoon, Appo and a few sign-ups showing up to teach the cadets how to win a fight, but the edge that Cody had always felt in those lessons was gone. Instead of being a necessity to live, these cadets were being taught just in case. Cody hoped they would never need it. 

And then the table came around to Fox’s announcement. He looked dead on his feet, bags under his eyes and a grim expression on his face. 

“So. Cody knows already, but I cracked the file.” 

Silence. 

This was not a declaration that Cody was looking forward to. He’d compartmentalized so well that he’d almost forgotten, but the feelings he’d been holding down came back in one big rush.

“The Kaminoans have been keeping the Alpha-class clones ‘in storage’ somewhere on-world. We—”

Fox had more to say, but the room erupted around them, commanders leaping to their feet and letting out exclamations of rage, hot and potent and awful, while others’ mouths dropped open wide in shock and others yet looking devastated. 

Cody whacked the table with his palm, the crack it made shocking everyone into quiet again. He didn’t have time for everyone to freak out like this. 

“I’m going to go talk to the Kaminoans again,” Cody said quietly, his anger behind the words making them sharp. 

A-017 has been the one trainer who had given Cody what personhood tasted like. Sure, some of the others had been nice. Some of them had been cruel, or uncaring, or detached. And A-017 himself had sometimes been all of those things, but he had also let them choose their names and given them words in mando’a to express themselves and let them take his datapad with fantasy novels on it to have some joy. 

A-017 had once called himself broken like it was a fact when he had found Cody on the roof of the training room being pelted by rain. 

Kote, I’m broken goods, he’d said as his hair was getting soaked. He’d looked tired and worn thin. I don’t have answers to the questions you’re asking me. 

Cody had wanted to scream at him. He was two thirds of the way through command training and he’d just witnessed three members of the squad he’d been taking through training exercises get taken away for reconditioning after asking too many questions and not performing well. They’d returned two weeks later, too quiet with vacant eyes and the ability to shoot better than everyone else. 

Cody had been convinced it had all been his fault, but he’d still asked A-017 why, just to realize that his mentor was just as helpless as he was.

Ruusaaray, A-017 had offered instead. It means unending pain, the kind that endures, the kind that becomes foundational. 

Cody hadn’t understood. 

Don’t become like me, Kote, A-017 had warned. They both had gotten soaked to the bone. 

Cody understood now. 

He had more focus than he’d ever had before in his life. He was going to do what he needed to do to get what he needed to get. The Alpha-class clones, an experiment just like Cody, didn’t deserve the dehumanization any more than the rest of them did. 

“Keller. Bacara. I’d like for you to come with me.” 

“Absolutely,” Keller said. 

Bacara needed no words and headed toward the door only to turn around and look at them when he’d reached it. “Let’s not waste time,” he threatened, and Cody stood up as well. 

“Finish without us,” he said. “2227 will catch me up later.” 

And so they went.

Chapter Text

Confronting the Kaminoans for a second time wasn’t something that Cody enjoyed in the slightest. Their cold, casual indifference was back and it stung even more now with all of the lives Cody had touched since he’d been elected. He didn’t care what it took though, he was going to get his information about where the Alphas had been stored away.

He asked. They refused to tell. 

He asked again. They refused to tell again. 

“You’re all engineered products,” one scientist said, voice too exacting and calm in a way that infuriated Cody. “Why does it matter? You’re replaceable.” 

That was further evidence to prove to Cody that the inhibitor chip was all bantha shit, because he wasn’t feeling fucking docile right now. His focus was a blaster bolt. 

“I’m the president of this planet,” Cody said. “I’ve set up a way for every clone to tell us their name and get legal documents. We are not replaceable, we are not products, and we will not fight in a war. Now I’ll ask again. Where are the Alpha-class clones?” 

The scientist refused to answer once more. 

Cody set Bacara on him. 

“They’re in a storage facility on the ocean floor,” Bacara told him twenty minutes later. Cody didn’t bother to ask how he got the information, and instead commed 2227 with the update. 

They had brothers to rescue.

“You can’t rush into this,” Davijaan said, and physically got in front of Cody to prevent him from moving. 

He was shocked into stillness. “What do you mean? The Alphas are being stored at the bottom of Kranak’s fucking ocean, Davi, of course we have to rush! We have to get them out of there!” 

Davijaan’s lips tightened. “I know,” he ground out. “ I know. But you need to sit down and plan this out. We don’t know enough yet.” 

But Cody wasn’t really listening to him, to be honest. The vibrating under his skin and the sharpened anger he’d been using as his focus made Davijaan’s words sound more like buzzing in his ears.

“Kote,” Davijaan said. 

Kote snapped to attention. 

“There you are,” Davijaan said, looking right into his eyes and standing less than a pace away. “You get to go sit with Bly for a bit, and I’m going to have a consult with the medics about how the fuck you un-freeze people from stasis.” 

Cody wanted to protest, but Davijaan raised one eyebrow and Cody could tell that he wasn’t going to give in. He nodded once and acquiesced.

Cody grumbled as he sat next to Bly, staring out the window and watching the rain as it poured down in sheets. He had more important osik to do than sit around and wait. 

Bly, on the other hand, was holding six looped strings on his fingers, weaving them through each other with an ease that Cody was unsure how he obtained. 

Cody tapped his foot. Bly hummed idly, a tune that was familiar but Cody was unable to place. The seconds stretched wider and wider as each passed, growing more painful as they did. 

Cody held out as long as he could. But he did break. 

“I should be out there.” 

Bly stopped his humming, fingers still plucking away as he looked up at Cody. “No you shouldn’t,” he said. “You’re not needed there right now. This isn’t something that you can go and solve on your own. Let somebody else help you.”

Cody made a face. “You’re not fooling me, Bly. Davi took 2227 with him; that’s a pretty good indicator that it’s my business.” 

Sighing, Bly looked back down at his fingers and rolled his neck from side to side as Cody watched, still tapping his foot. 

“Davi said he was going to update you as soon as he had an update. So relax.” 

Cody sighed and looked back to the window. This was patently unfair, truly. Kranak was supposed to be his planet. He was supposed to take care of the issues. 

“He’s talking to the head medic as we speak,” Bly soothed. Cody knew he was only talking so that Cody didn’t have an excuse to walk away from where they sat. “And you know how capable that vod is? I’ve heard he threw together the surgery rotation schedule in an hour — while he was performing surgery himself!” 

Cody actually hadn’t known that. 

“His name’s Kix, I think. And he’s not the official head medic, but he’s taken charge, kinda like how you have. Atin ori’vod.” 

“He sounds pretty capable. And I am just as stubborn as I need to be.” 

Bly hummed, unconvinced, and went back to plucking his thread loops. Cody watched as the little braid grew longer and longer, feeling the tight bow strings of his body relaxing almost against his will. 

When Bly was down to the ends of the loops, he took them off of his fingers and tied a little knot before handing the woven strand to Cody with a smile. Cody took it, cautiously, and raised one eyebrow at Bly. 

“It’s a friendship bracelet,” he boasted. “It means that I trust you, and you have to wear it. That’s what Shaak Ti said— she was the one to show me how to make them. I quote: Bestowing a friendship bracelet upon another is a high honor. I’ve gotta tie it on your wrist. Let me?” 

Cody proffered his wrist without a moment’s hesitation, handing the strand back to Bly. Sure, it was a little bit silly, but there was something important here, in this moment. He knew Bly was a warrior. He knew Bly could kill another in a second; he’d been trained to do so, made to do so. 

And yet Bly had always chosen peace. 

The bracelet being tied around Cody’s wrist grounded him. Put him back in his own body, tamping down his jitters. He would get this job done and seen through. He just needed to wait. 

“There we go,” Bly muttered when he was done, but Cody didn’t think he was talking about the bracelet, looking Cody in the eyes much too knowingly for that to be the case. “All done. You can go see Davi in thirty minutes.” 

Cody huffed and shook his head, then Bly stood and offered him an arm. “Get up and we’ll eat something before going.”

Knowing he wasn’t going to win another battle, Cody conceded defeat to Bly. Sometimes, it was better to give in. 

The unofficial head medic, Kix, was a busy vod. Cody could tell after only a moment of being in his presence, because he was literally working on a patient while they spoke. 

“Sorry sirs,” He said to Cody, 2227, and Davijaan (Bly had flitted off to somewhere else he was needed after making sure Cody was fed and watered). “But my patients take first priority and we have a lot on our plates right now.” 

And Kix actually sounded apologetic about it, too. 

“I would have had Coric talk to you instead,” Kix said while wiping bacta on some minor burns, “but he was needed to set a broken arm from an incident with the catwalk, so you’re here with me and Takk.” 

The patient sitting on the table— Takk, Cody corrected— gave them a jaunty little wave, but seemed content to sit there and tune them out while getting his injuries tended to. 

“Not a problem, Kix,” Cody said. “We appreciate your insight on this matter.” He was still buzzing on the inside a bit, anticipation setting back into his blood after weaning out over the past couple of hours. 

Kix nodded, grabbing some dressings to finish fixing up Takk. “I’ll give you the short version of the research the medics have done: we’re going to need to keep them frozen until we can get them back to the labs. You know the tanks they keep the tubies in?” He looked over at them, pausing from where he was wrapping Takk’s arm. 

Cody, 2227, and Davijaan nodded, and Kix returned the gesture before returning to his work, continuing, “Yeah. We’re going to utilize those like bacta tanks to help get the Alphas’ core temperatures back to where it’s safe, keep them under so that they don’t freak out immediately upon waking, then get them out of the tubes and into the med center to wake them up. From there, we’ll catch them up to speed and ask how they feel. Run some tests, make sure they’re healthy.” 

Kix shrugged, taping down the wapping once he’d finished. “And that’s the plan.”

Cody exchanged a look with Davijaan, who gave him a look like See, it was good that you didn’t go rushing into this without a plan and it made Cody want to roll his eyes at him, so he looked away. 

“So we’re good to go get them now?” He asked Kix instead. 

Kix sighed. “Not immediately. We’re still using a lot of our beds to perform chip removals right now, and we need to keep that going while also clearing space and personnel to help manage the Alphas’ recovery.” 

Disappointment flooded Cody’s being, but he also understood what Kix was saying and felt a begrudging respect for him start to form. Maybe that “unofficial” head of medical status should be made official— if he was willing to stand up for what his department needed, that was a major plus in Cody’s books. He made a mental note to tell 2227 about that later. 

“How long do you need to get things in order?” 2227 asked, making notes on his datapad with one hand. 

Kix shrugged again, beginning to wrap the last of Takk’s injuries. “A day, maybe,” he said. “We’re getting pretty far along with the chip removals.” 

He stopped, suddenly, and turned a sharp gaze onto the three of them. 

“Speaking of which,” he said, “have any of you three had your chips removed yet?” 

The three of them exchanged quick glanes. 

“No,” Davi said, sounding a little bit sheepish. “We’ve been really busy.” 

Cody nodded, but a part of him had kind of planned this. Since he was president for now, at least, it was his responsibility to look after everyone. Cody had figured he’d be the last vod to get his chip out, as a symbol of his commitment to his brothers. But, looking at Kix’s unimpressed expression, Cody decided that he was not going to voice that opinion, sure that it would lead to him being scolded within an inch of his life.

“You’re Command!” Kix protested. “I know the chips have been disabled, but it’s irresponsible for our president to be walking around with possible kill orders in his head. You do realize that, right?” 

Cody froze. Kix was right. That was stupid, had been stupid of him. 

“I’ll get an urgent message out to Command right now ordering chip removal as soon as possible,” 2227 said in response. “How soon can you take us?” 

Not two hours later, Cody thought he should feel different now as he stared at the little red clump of matter from his brain on the tray next to him. However, he didn’t feel any different at all. He just felt like himself, like Cody who was now President of Kranak. 

Just having a moment to himself, Cody felt the pressure of his current situation pressing down on him. It was surreal, how fast everything had been, how fast things had changed. 

So maybe he did feel a little bit different, now. He was still the same person he’d always been, but he was free of being property now. He had an official name, a title, a plan to make history in the Republic. A thrill ran down his spine at the thought. Could Kranak really become a leader in politics? 

Cody shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to be dwelling on his planet’s future. He needed to take action. 

After finding Kix and confirming the timeline with him on rescuing the Alphas, Kix let him know that he’d send a message to 2227 as soon as he and Coric had figured out rotations and scheduling; Coric and Bly were going to requisition some brothers to help triage and take on more minor injuries in the meantime. 

Then, Cody went and found the team working on the ships that would be sent down to enter the ocean-floor storage room; finding that the preparations were almost set and would be by the four-hour estimate that Kix had given him. 

That checked off his list, Cody checked in with 2227 before leaving him to figure out some logistics Cody didn’t have the mind to deal with at the moment. He needed to track down where Keller and Bacara had gotten to.

He found Bacara in the farthest target practice room. Blaster in hand, Bacara shot at moving targets with ease, killing and incapacitating blows coming in a pattern of 2-1-2-3. Cody watched him for a moment. Bacara’s form was perfect. 

He didn’t have to announce himself, he know that Bacara was aware of his presence. But something about the atmosphere of the room made Cody wait to speak, letting the blaster fire be the only sound ricocheting off the walls. 

Cody didn’t have to wait very long.  

“Doesn’t it bother you?” The tone of Bacara’s voice was indiscernible, managed and packaged away to be as emotionless as possible. 

“Does what bother me?” Cody asked, tone just as bland. 

Bacara was still shooting, incapacitate, incapacitate, incapacitate, kill. 

“That we didn’t even save ourselves.” Kill, incapacitate, kill, kill. Cody could see the hand around his balster tighten, knuckles turning white, tone slipping into something angry, something devastated, something compressed and awful. “The Jedi had to come and do that for us, and they wouldn’t have come unless they’d been forced.” 

Incapacitate, incapacitate, incapacitate.

“Of course it bothers me,” Cody said. He let the words come out tired. There was so much ahead of them. There was so much Kranak had yet to do, that they were on the precipice of achieving. But Cody was also aware that everything, all of this, had only happened because of the compassion of a child he had never met. It could have easily never come up. They could be at war right now, killing droids made for the same purpose as them on the same orders as the man who’d decided they’d needed control chips in their heads. Millions of them could have died. Would have died. And the Jedi would have let it happen, would have died alongside them for a war they didn’t even want to fight. 

But, at the same time, the Jedi had listened to the child. As soon as they’d known about the clone army being built for them on orders not their own, they’d come to investigate. They’d disabled the chips. They’d helped, been compassionate, been good.

So, Cody said, “But how do you know that for sure? They’ve been extremely helpful.”

Kill. Bacara snarled. Kill. “They’re trying to rid themselves of guilt. And maybe they’ll be able to, since everything changed before it was too late.” 

“Bacara—” 

Throwing the gun away, Bacara turned to look at Cody for the first time since he’d entered the room. His hair, normally slicked back and slightly long but not enough to be out of regulation, fell onto his forehead. His face was screwed up, open wide and cracked. 

“I was so prepared for us to fight a war. I went through all that training. All that fucking pain, and for what? For me to set down my blaster and pretend like I don’t know that my purpose in life is to kill in the most efficient way possible?” 

There was something lodged in Cody’s throat, something stuck in his chest, throbbing and aching with every word Bacara had said. His own words came back to him in paraphrase: we were products, items of trade to fight in a war that was not ours. He swallowed, but the lump didn’t go away so he spoke around it, the single word rasping in his throat. 

“Was,” he said. 

“What?” 

“Your purpose in life was to kill. It isn’t anymore, or it doesn’t have to be, at least.” Cody shrugged. “You can do whatever you want. Yesterday, a vod named Ruaza asked me if he could be a painter and I told him where the spray cans were.” 

Bacara stared at Cody for a moment, devastation dropping off of his features slowly for a more lost expression. He looked at Cody beseechingly. “But I don’t even know what I would do if not fight. That’s— that’s all I’ve ever done. All I’ve— all we’ve— ever known.” 

“I know,” Cody said. “I know. Do you think I have any idea what the fuck I’m doing as president? I have no clue. None. We’re… we’re all trying to figure that out now, Bacara. And now, we have time. You’ll get there.” 

Something in Bacara’s shoulders eased. His expression closed back up and he sighed, looking away from Cody. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Guess so.” 

“Know so,” Cody prompted, and Bacara shot him a look like he was a di’kut, meaning Cody’s words’d had their desired effect.

“But before I figure all that shit out,” Bacara said, “I have one more mission to complete.” He raised his eyebrows at Cody. “Tell me when we’re breaking out the Alphas.” 

All of Command had their chips out. Cody, Keller, Bacara, Davijaan, and Coric the medic had come up with a solid plan on the easiest way to get the Alpha-class clones back up to the surface. The ships were ready to go. They had the location. The squad of fifty-five vode were loading up, readying themselves to go down, and Cody was buzzing with anticipation, just waiting for the final call from Kix, who was finishing preparations in the labs. 

“President Cody? Calling President Cody.” 8209’s voice echoed through the halls on the speakers, and everyone froze, turning around slowly to look at Cody, who had no idea what was going on. 

He turned to 2227. “What's happening?” He hissed.

2227 shrugged helplessly, already furiously typing something on his datapad. 

“President Cody, please come to the Senator’s office,” 8209 said. “We're have a… situation.” 

Alarm flashed through Cody’s body, making him shift almost subconsciously to parade rest. A situation couldn't possibly be good, no matter what it meant.

“Please hurry, sir.” 

“I need to go,” Cody said, as if that wasn’t obvious. 

Keller nodded fiercely. “We’ll wait,” he said. “That doesn’t sound good; we don’t want to send this mission in the middle of an attack or crisis. Let us know what it is.”   

Cody nodded and turned to leave until 2227 grabbed his arm. He stopped, and 2227 made a noise of triumph before speaking into his datapad, “This is 2227. 8209, what is going on?” 

8209 sounded like a nervous wreck. “Sir, there’s fifty ships in our airspace asking for permission to land. We need you to clear them, speak to them or something. We don’t have any protocols for this!” 

2227 and Cody were off immediately, 2227 barking into his comm, “Cody and I are en-route now. Hold them off for five minutes and we’ll deal with them.” 

Cody hadn’t run this fast since his overtaking Kranak, but didn’t let that stop him from sprinting across Kranak’s walkways, 2227 keeping pace with him as best he could. It only took them about four minutes to arrive in the Senator’s office by the big screen. 

A vod Cody didn’t recognize was handling the station that controlled the screen. “Sir!” The vod said, “8209’s been holding them off, but they’re ready to speak with you now.” 

Cody took a moment to breathe, but then nodded. “Put them on,” he said, readying himself to negotiate, dread pooling in his stomach. He hoped to hell it wasn’t pirates or allies of the Sith coming to tear them to shreds, but if it was, Cody was prepared to go to war for his people and his planet.  

The screen flickered to life. 

“Cody, you chakaar, let us land!” A face, identical to his own before he’d gotten the scar, grinned at him, eyes sparkling and blond hair making him look almost like he didn’t belong in their ranks. 

Rex.  

Cody laughed, joyous and relieved, emotions threatening to pour out at the sight of his brother home from the war, safe and sound and whole. He turned to the vod operating the screen and waved. 

“You heard the man,” he said. “Let them land!” 

Rex, in true Rex fashion, strolled down the ramp of the ship cooly as soon as it had touched down, dual fucking blasters at his hips and armor painted with provocative blue streaks, scuffed and messy like it had seen battle— because it had. 

“Hey Cody,” he said, smiling. He was such a little shit. 

“Rex,” he returned, faux-stern. 

A moment later, they were both laughing, falling into each other’s arms and embracing too roughly in a show of how alive they both were, spilling words into each other’s ears that were incomprehensible and overlapping. 

“I’m so glad you’re alive, di’kut, I was so worried—"    

“Cody, I can’t believe I’m finally here, things have been crazy—"

"And you sent a Jedi after me carrying a horror story on his back, you absolute fucker!"

"—in ways both good and bad. War sucks, let me just tell you—"

"And now look at me, I’m in charge of all of this—"

"—and Coruscant isn’t as cool as the classes made it out to be, but I think we really can trust the Jedi."

"—seriously Rex, I’m so happy you’re here.”

"I’m glad I’m here too, fuck. So glad most of us made it out of Geonosis alive.” 

They parted, and if their eyes were a little wet then that’s nobody’s business besides their own. They both laughed a little bit again, because neither one of them processed anything that had been said, but that was okay because Cody knew what came out of his mouth was one huge blubbering mess. 

“You go,” Cody said, gesturing in the space between them. 

“No, you go,” Rex insisted. 

Cody made a face at him. “I asked first.” 

Rex opened his mouth, rolling his eyes, but then cocked his head a little bit and looked away, thinking. When he looked back to Cody a moment later, he smiled and shrugged, mirth lighting up his eyes. “But I don’t know what to say.” 

Cody got the urge to throw something at him. 

Laughing at his expression, Rex relented. “Ponds and Neyo say hi. They’re behind me on Coruscant with the rest of the boys, but I got sent ahead with all the Jedi and supplies. They figured I’d be the best one to send back to you, and they were right, because you and I need to have a conversation about the fact that you’re president of this place now, which, how the fuck did that even happen, Cody?”

Cody let out a sigh. “I don’t even know how it happened,” he grumbled. 

“I can schedule a time for you to chat about it with Rex in your calendar, Cody, but we need to get a move on, here,” 2227 said, popping up out of nowhere. 

Rex raised both eyebrows at Cody. “This your manager? I like ‘im!” 

2227 rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, we all know he needs someone to keep him on track.” He turned to Cody and prompted, “Don’t you want to get back to the Alphas?” 

“What?” Rex said. “What’s going on with the Alpha-class clones? Is it something going on with 17?” 

Ah, yes; Rex had no clue what was going on with everything. He shot 2227 a look, and he begrudgingly nodded. “I’ll handle this,” he groused. “You and Rex get thirty, then I’m picking you up.” 

He turned to Rex and began to explain. “So…” 

“That’s a fuckin’ headache,” Rex said, bewildered and a bit worked up. “Not to mention, completely unethical—” 

“You’re saying that as if anything about our creation was ethical, Rex,” Cody joked tiredly, watching the Jedi and volunteers working together to unload the ships while 2227 and Bly called out directions to the crowd. Even he and Rex had been roped into helping, grabbing boxes side by side and moving them to where they were directed. 

Cody made a mental note to make sure 2227— and Bly— got nice presents when things had calmed down a bit. He couldn’t have done this good of a job sorting materials and handling people like this on such short notice.  

Rex, once he’d put down his load, turned to Cody and pointed at him with one finger, squinting. “That was funny, but I don’t feel like I should laugh.” 

Cody set down his own box on top of Rex’s and spread his hands. “Welcome to existence as a clone.” 

“Hey, are you two di’kute done yet?” Came a shout from above. “I just got word from Kix that medical is set in the labs, so Project Alpha is ready whenever you are. Keller said they just need you.” 

“We'll be right there!” Cody called back. He was ready now more than ever, after rounds and rounds of delays. “C’mon, Rex, let’s go.” 

“Sir, yes, sir!” Rex snapped a salute, cheeky and yet completely sincere, and then they were off.

Cody didn’t remember much of the mission, afterwards. There was the buzzing in his ears of the vode around him murmuring, the dim light of under the sea out the windows, the feeling of his blaster in his hands. Bacara’s stoic face and Rex’s worried one, stealing glances at him. Davijaan and Rex clasping forearms and touching foreheads, murmuring thanks into each other’s auras. 

The deep sea prison— because that’s what it was, a prison— was bare bones. Utilitarian. Their footsteps echoed on the floor, the only sound besides their breathing and the sound of machines whirring. Nobody alive was down there; no guards and no droids. Just rows and rows and rows of pods where his brothers were sealed away for storage, frozen up until they were needed. 

Cody didn’t even need to do anything. The medics rushed by and around him, the volunteers already coordinated to do the transfer into the ships’ docking bays. It didn’t take more than twenty minutes between all of them to load the pods, and all Cody got to do was watch. 

“Kinda anti-climactic, isn’t it?” Bacara murmured. His trigger finger was itching, Cody could tell. 

“Yeah,” he replied. Something about it felt hollow, the place where earlier there had been something stuck inside him now removed, but something else in his chest had been taken out alongside it. “It is.” 

Another victory. But this place, this prison made Cody feel sick. He pictured 17’s face in his mind, just like his own in so many ways, but harder. More set. Filled with the ruusaaray that he’d warned Cody to stay away from. Cody had hoped he’d see 17 sooner than this. He wanted, maybe he’d just hoped, that what Fox had found out hadn’t been true, that 17 would just be down here already broken out, asking gruffly why it had taken his cadets so long to figure it out.

He wouldn’t have had an answer. But it would have been nice, Cody thought. It would have been nice.

Back up at the surface, Cody helped transport the pods into the lab closest to the docking bays, Davijaan at his side. 

“Kix and Coric have this,” he said. 

“I know,” Cody replied, because he did know. The knowledge didn’t heal him, didn’t guarantee that the Alphas would turn out alright, but it did ease the pressure in his chest just slightly. 

“You need me to sic Bly and Rex on you again?” Davi asked. 

Cody shook his head, taking a moment of breath to renew himself. “No, I’m fine.” 

Davijaan made a noise of disbelief, but didn’t say anything more, letting silence fall between them for a moment before he spoke again. “I want to see 17 again too.” 

Cody huffed out a noise that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah.” 

Abruptly, Davijaan stopped pushing the pod, causing Cody to come to a halt. He looked right into Cody’s eyes, face serious, eyes determined. 

“He’ll be proud of you, Kote.” 

Cody’s eyes closed involuntarily. Whatever had been scooped out of his chest plopped back in wildly, spilling his emotions out like he didn’t know how to handle himself anymore, flowing through his body with every pump of his heart. 

He swallowed and opened his eyes after a moment. “He’ll call me a mir’sheb utreekov.” He said thickly.

Davijaan laughed, a little thing that was both light and heavy at the same time. “He will,” he agreed. “But he’ll be proud, too.” 

When all of the pods had been handed over to the capable care of Kix, Coric, and the other medics, Coric shooed them all out of the lab. 

“We can’t work with you all breathing down our karking necks, now get the hell out unless you know more than field medic tactics,” he ushered, even against the protesting members of Command that had been in ARC training with 17. 

Rex went off to find Fox to say hello, Bacara stationed himself outside the door to the lab like a guard, Keller disappeared into thin air, and Davijaan said he was going to get some sleep, giving Cody a pointed look that he ignored.

There were so many things going on. Cody needed to reassess, needed to know where to apply himself to get the most out of his time right now. The Jedi Corps, the Alphas, the Republic politics, the intraweb, the gene therapy, the chip removals, the food and water supplies, the exports, the building and rebuilding, the school for the cadets, the vode figuring out who they were; Cody needed to know where things stood after being pushed and pulled from one thing to the next as long as he’d been awake, which was probably a bit longer than he should have been. 

Thankfully, it didn’t take him too long to find 2227, practically collapsing in relief when he saw his brother’s familiar face. 

“We need to have another meeting,” Cody told him, at the same time that 2227 said, “President Cody, I need to get Command together again for a meeting.” 

They looked at each other for a moment and blinked. 

“Okay, not a problem,” 2227 said with some amusement. “I’ll get one on the books.” He tapped a few things on his datapad, then glanced up at Cody before narrowing his eyes. 

“When was the last time you slept?” He asked. 

Cody felt a little offended for being called out on this for the second time within fifteen minutes, but then thought about it for a moment. When was the last time he’d been asleep? Before he could answer, 2227 cut him off.

“If you have to think about it, then that’s a bad answer. Go get some rest, Cody.” 

“But—” 

“We’ll live without you. I can go bother the rest of Command with our problems. Fox has some free time, he’s just coming off his own rest cycle. I’ll wake you when it’s time to meet again.” His voice softened. “Or when there’s news about the Alphas. Now get out of here.” 

And this time, it didn’t even take any more persuasion to get Cody to go. He was, perhaps, in need of some rest. His feet moved on autopilot to his pod. 

He was asleep as soon as he laid down.

Chapter Text

Upon waking up, the first thing Cody did after he ejected out of his pod that morning was take a sonic shower, then check his pad. There were a lot of things that he was supposed to be keeping track of on the wayside that he hadn’t gotten a chance to, and so wanted to check in. He counted the paces to his office, noting the new number absently, and then grabbed a ration bar before sitting down to get started with the comm messages he’d been neglecting.

Conversation with Obi-Wan Kenobi

I wanted to let you know that all of the 

vode here have had their chips removed. 

Additionally, my padawan Anakin says 

he misses Rex and wants me to pass 

along the fact that he’s helping them stay

occupied and safe. 

Let me know how you’re doing, Cody. I

know that this transition has been very

abrupt and I’m here to talk if you ever 

need! 

Thank you. I’ll pass along the message

to Rex from Anakin, and let everyone 

know that the vode on Coruscant have

been freed. 

I’m doing well. Just busy, there’s a lot to

handle but I’m sure the same can be said

of the work that you’re doing right now. I 

am also here for you if you want to talk. 

By the way, how did you learn Mando’a?

Conversation with Padmé Amidala

So that’s what Subsection 2 Article

9 means, essentially. It’s a means to 

declare what property and possession

of property look like on-world. I 

ended up having to guess on what 

some of that might look like on 

Kamino for you guys based on what 

Rex told me— all very reluctantly, 

mind you. 

Does that make sense?

As for the other questions you had for

me on the Senate, for as much as I 

hate to say it, this place has been a

mess for years. Corruption runs amok;

there are more than a few factions that 

are there solely for their own planet’s 

greed and don’t care about public good.

Now that Bail has been made interim

Chancellor, things will probably get a 

bit better, but it’s not like it’s easy to 

root out injustice and stop a whole war

and arrest corrupt officials. 

Speaking of, I should give you Mon’s

comm info, actually. And Satine’s. Or 

maybe we can have a meeting? Let me 

know if we can schedule something in 

the next couple of days. 

Padmé, I appreciate your thoughtful 

responses. Understood on S2A9, but

with the way that it’s worded I think

I’m going to have to revise it, because

nobody here has possessions, at least

not yet. I don’t want anybody to feel

like something isn’t theirs but we 

don’t have any housing except our

pods right now. I’ve been too busy to 

figure something else out. But that’s a 

problem for future me. Can I send you 

a draft of the revision for proofing and

 a sensibility check?

Also we renamed the planet— it’s Kranak

now. It means “our stronghold surrounded

by water” in Mando’a :) 

Looks like we just have to fix the Senate

like we fixed Kranak. I’ll see if I can set 

aside some time to speak with you, maybe 

early next week? And forward whoever’s

info you feel like, honestly. I’m willing to 

talk to whoever is helpful.

Conversation with Bail Organa

By the way, I sent you some mail.

It’s essentially asking you to send 

a representative to the Senate, which 

I’m sure you and Padmé have already

been discussing in the background.

I’m really looking forward to 

furthering both of our agendas and 

having more allies here. No rush, but

the sooner you get somebody over 

here with us, the better. 

How have the Jedi Corps been? Helpful

I hope. Let me know what the Republic 

can do for you— if you need relief or 

aid we can bring it up next session and

get funds or volunteers requisitioned. 

Just let me know. 

Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll keep an

eye on the mail and I’ll start asking 

around to see who wants to be a

Senator. Things have been moving

quickly, so it shouldn’t take us very

long before somebody will be ready.

The Jedi Corps, from what I have

heard, have been a great help. I 

haven't had the chance to work with

any of them closely, but I know that

the reports speak of them favorably.

No need so far on the funds or 

additional aid. If you want to put out

a call for trusted scientists or ask 

friends you can, though. Our need to 

work on combating some of the gene

manipulation and sped-up growth in 

clones is coming up. I appreciate all of

the time and effort you’ve put into

helping us, Bail. I can’t thank you 

enough, truly. Let me know if you need

anything from us. 

Somehow, replying to the scant messages Cody had deemed important enough to reply to had him feeling exhausted despite the fact that he’d just woken up. He moved his attention over to the intranet, reading the top few posts about Ruaza the painter’s latest artwork, a poll on what meal the caf was going to attempt that day, a call for builders needed, and a callout from Waxer on expanding education to higher levels in specialized fields the clones hadn’t been taught. 

It all seemed in order, so Cody turned his sights instead to the suggestion form. 

What if we had a recreation center? I realized the other day that I’ve never played games that aren’t thinly veiled exercises for war.

I want to be able to read more novels. Can we get a library?

Will we ever get credits? I found some really interesting HoloNet sites that I want to buy stuff from but I realized that I don’t have any money. 

My friend Irma and I want to learn binary but we don’t know where to start. Can we get some help? What would you suggest we do?

I hate having a number but I don’t know what to name myself. How do you get a name? Do you choose it or do others give it to you? How do you know if the name is right? Will I be able to change my name once I choose it? What if I like one name for a while but then it doesn’t fit anymore? 

Cody rubbed his temples. Some of the questions were easy to answer, but many of them just brought more questions along with them— especially that of the name. He remembered how he got his own name, tracing the scar over his face with his fingertips. He had been accused of throwing himself into harm’s way for glory, A-017 berating him in a way that had felt caustic at the time, but now Cody thought that he had probably been worried. 

“If you like glory so much, you can wear it,” 17 had snarled. “Kote.”  

And so he had: on his face and as his calling card, turning a punishment into what he was known for. He strived for excellence, and if glory was what came along with it, then Cody would take it. He’d never thought about trying to change his name, it had just stuck. All of those in the ARC program had just gotten used to it, and it would have been too much trouble to change. 

But, more than that, Cody’s name had transmuted with him, his glory becoming and meaning different things to him as time had passed. His name was a journey in and of itself, and that was hard to explain succinctly to someone who didn’t know what they should be called. 

He forwarded each question to the Commanders he thought would be able to answer them, and then sat and wrote a personal reply to the name question that took almost half an hour to perfect before he sent it off.

Cody was able to also get about a quarter of the revisions done to the property law in Kranak’s constitution before 2227 came knocking, an excited look on his face. 

“17’s awake, and Fox says he’s asking for you,” he said. 

A-017 looked exactly like Cody remembered him. Of course he did. All of the vode had been engineered to have photographic memory recall, and A-017 had been frozen away in storage for some time now. There wouldn’t have been any changes. Of course he looked the same. 

He wasn’t looking at Cody, instead turned to watch the bustling through the room’s window, arms crossed and face impassive. Cody didn’t know what he wanted 17 to say, what he wanted 17 to do. But he stood there silently all the same, waiting for acknowledgement like he was a cadet again and not the elected leader of Kranak. 

“You’ve been busy, Kote.” 17 finally said after a long while. 

Cody’s fingers twitched. 17 had always said his name like that, the slight lilting difference in tone signifying that he was saying the Mando’a word instead of the flatter pronunciation that Basic always seemed to carry. That’s who 17 was; the little of him that Cody had been trusted with. He was hard, he was bitter, he was broken. He inserted Mando’a wherever he could, he was patient, he snuck the ARC trooper cadets stolen Mandalorian books and on extremely special occasions, small pieces of hard sweet candy. He taught Cody the art of war. Gave him a name. Taught him how to be an individual and how to claim space to carve out an identity. Gave him answers that were not always the point. 

“Yessir,” Cody replied, not elaborating any further.

17 glanced over at him, finally, his eyes the only part of him to move. “You renamed it.” 

Cody swallowed. “Yessir.”

“Kranak.” The word was intoned with a sweet bitterness, and 17 moved with its passage through his lips, as if the word was enough to bring him into motion. “Our stronghold surrounded by water.” There was something in 17’s eyes; a look Cody had never seen before that arrested him in its intensity, the lines on 17’s face showing Cody into a new layer of the man that he’d never met before. “I taught you that word after your class all passed 98% accuracy on the highest difficulty moving targets practice.” 

Cody remembered. 

17 took two steps forward, crossing the distance between them before coming to a halt right outside Cody’s space. He turned, and they stood shoulder to shoulder looking out of the window. 

Vode walked past, the occasional Jedi Corps member passing as well, but Cody wasn’t paying them much attention. 

“Kot’majyce.” 17 said. “I taught you that one after tactics training.” 

“I remember,” Cody said. That day was a good memory; he and Davijaan bickering in the hallway until Bly loudly complained over their petty argument and Fox solved it with one sly comment. The tactics training had made them— the team of cadets that Cody had been on— work their brains, but they’d figured out the best way to break into the stronghold. One of the tactics that he’d used to overtake Kamino had been formed that day, funnily enough. “It means legacy.” The words came out quiet and fervent.

17 turned to look at him, Cody following in suit. There were words burning behind 17’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he smiled. 

It was fierce, it was joyous. It was angry and warm and righteous; the smile was not comfortable on 17’s face but seeing it filled Cody with emotion so quickly that he was overcome with the strength of it. Cadets did not cry. Clones did not cry. But Cody felt his eyes wet and his throat close up. 

Cody had never seen 17 smile before. 

“Your brothers,” 17 said. “They will have no ruusaaray. Not on Kranak.” 

The tears fell. 17 did not mention it and Cody let them run down his face unashamedly. 

“Good,” he replied. “That’s good.” 

17 clapped his shoulder, and they turned back to continue watching the people pass by. Cody felt, physically inside of him, as something in him shifted back into place. It had been out of alignment for a long, long time. 

No more ruusaaray, he thought, and smiled as well. I build my foundations with love.

When he left, 2227 and Fox were waiting in the lobby of the med center for him exactly where they’d left him. Fox gave a questioning eyebrow to Cody, who smiled in return. 

“It went well?” 2227 asked unnecessarily. 

“It did,” Cody confirmed, but he wasn’t quite ready to talk about it yet. “Can you tell me what’s happened while I’ve been out?”  

Fox nodded, and they began walking out of the med center, offering a wave to Teek, the vod who manned the front desk. “All of Command has their chips out, and Monnk told me we’re at 87% for everyone else. The Jedi Corps are building centers to teach us more basic “real life in the galaxy skills” — apparently a Kaminonian/Mandalorian war education has a few gaps. They’re helping Waxer and Boil a shitton with the kids, and know how to make gardens without soil; they brought probably 70 crates of seeds and Stone was absolutely thrilled. We’ve started moving the materials that were brought around to where they need to be, Thorn and Faie are a little overwhelmed, but the Jedi Corps are being pretty helpful in that regard checking over the blueprints and bills of materials. Of course, the Alphas are all waking up; 17 is just a stubborn fucking bastard who didn’t wait more than five seconds after he opened his eyes to talk to us.” Fox rolled his eyes. “I miss anything, oh master of our schedule?” 

2227 clicked his fingers. “I like that. Master of the Schedule. What do you say to changing my title, President Cody?” 

Cody shot him a flat look. “We live in a democracy,” he said sarcastically. “Make the people vote about it.” He turned back to Fox, who was standing on his other side. “Sounds like you’ve been busy.” 

Fox shrugged. “Just another day on Kranak. It’s better than the slicing I was doing on the files before, and the intranet squad of Subter, Patience, Grip, and Topple have recruited at least thirty more men to help run the tech behind the scenes, so I haven’t even had much part in that. Your job is full-time, that’s for sure.” 

“Don’t I know it,” Cody agreed. “Thanks for taking it off my hands for a few hours. 2227, how are we looking on paperwork? Bail Organa told me that I’d have an influx at some point, and that it would become a bigger part of my job as time went on.” 

“Well,” 2227 said, “we’re still setting everything up. We’ve had name forms coming in like mad, but some are still waiting to find a name that fits before sending it in. The intranet has been instrumental in coordination, scheduling, voting, and the like, but I definitely think that sometime in the next six months, paperwork will start to ramp up.” 

Cody grunted, already not looking forward to that part of his job. “Can you start a call looking for people to help with that? I think Padmé called the job an “administrative assistant” or something like that.” 

2227 nodded absently, already tapping on his datapad, which he somehow did without looking at where they were going. It was a skill that Cody was a little bit in awe of, truthfully. “Just sent it on the intranet,” 2227 said a moment later. “The next Command meeting is set for four hours from now, by the way.” 

The three of them stopped, having arrived at Cody’s office, and slipped inside before Cody and Fox sat on the comfortable chairs so they could continue to talk while 2227 fussed with a pile of stuff on Cody’s desk.  

“How are you really feeling, Fox?” Cody asked, leaning in and speaking lowly to make their conversation a bit more private. “There’s so much going on, and you said that 17 talked to you? How did that go?” 

“This isn’t more stressful than what I was doing before, that’s not a lie,” Fox protested. “I actually enjoyed it more than I thought I would. Something about your job… I felt useful. There were things that needed to be done, and I did them. There were decisions to be made, and I made them. It’s like— and I know this is a bad analogy, but it’s all I can think of sometimes— running Kranak is like a war campaign.” 

Tilting his head as he listened, Cody considered that thought and realized that he understood exactly what Fox meant by that, nodding as his brother continued to talk.

“We both know that you and I were training to be in charge of battalions of men performing all kinds of attacks in the context of a greater war to achieve maximum victory. It feels like that, except the war is against the old Kamino and victory is peace and freedom.” 

There was nothing that Cody could add to that, for it was, oddly enough, the truth. “It is fulfilling.” 

Fox nodded, and the weight of that understanding, that the two of them were leading a war of their own making, a war for goodness and progress and bettering themselves, and how a mantle like that could feel righteous in its own regard. 

They didn’t have time to talk about 17, unfortunately, before 2227 cleared his throat and sat down noisily on his own chair. 

“You’ve got mail,” he said, waving it in the air. “From Chancellor Organa. And, I have the reports from a few Jedi teams to go over with you as well.” 

“The Chancellor’s is just about electing a senator, save it for the Command meeting. Fox, do you want to stay for the Jedi reports?” 

Fox looked at Cody, surprised. “I can if you’d like me to.” 

Cody rolled his eyes. “There’s no one else I’d trust more with this besides Davijaan, and we both know that he’d rather bleed out than listen to reports.” 

This startled a laugh out of both Fox and 2227, a bright smile lingering on Fox’s face even after that made Cody continue to feel purposefully happy. 2227 went on to read out more details on the activities of AgriCorps, EduCorps, and ExplorCorps, facts and figures and materials and percentages cramming themselves into his brain as well as Fox’s. 

The EduCorps activities were all in the school, helping Waxer and Boil and their contingent of workers to get galaxy-standard materials into classrooms. All of the current cadets were now transitioning into learning more soft skills and practical manners, easing them out of their military training slowly. AgriCorps was more of the seeds and hydroponics details, as well as confirmations about the fishing and factories, getting a few more safety regulations in place as well as more training for those helping out with food preparation duties. ExplorCorps was helping to map Kranak as a planet, looking for any other established settlements of Kaminoans as well as noting any features or irregular structures on the planet’s water surface and at the bottom of its deep oceans. The three of them worked on a tentative schedule for how long the Jedi Corps would need to stay before moving on to the topic of scientists, but immediately set it aside for the Command meeting when Cody realized how big of an issue it actually was. 

Then, without further fanfare, 2227 dragged Fox and Cody both to the caf for a quick meal before the Command meeting. 

Over lunch, 2227 didn’t contribute much to Cody and Fox’s conversation. Cody kept an eye on him while he and Fox chatted about a few mundane things, watching 2227’s face shift in deep contemplation. Cody wasn’t going to make his brother talk, but he was a little bit worried, and so once they’d finished their food, Cody pulled 2227 back into his office with him for a quick chat, telling Fox to meet up with them at the meeting. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked as soon as the door was shut. 

2227 looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “What?” 

“You’ve been acting odd today. At lunch you were thinking so hard about something that you barely ate. I was wondering if it was something I could help with?” 

Huffing out a breath, 2227 dropped into one of Cody’s comfortable chairs, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking,” he groaned. “You’re so annoying, I can’t get any privacy to work over my identity issues in peace.” 

Cody rolled his eyes even though 2227 couldn’t see it, and joined him in the other chair. “Sorry that I want what’s best for you,” he replied dryly. 

2227’s arm shifted just enough that one eye was peeking out. “Codyyyy. You really do have a savior complex, y’know. If you didn’t, we literally wouldn’t be here.” 

Cody wanted to protest the statement, but unfortunately it seemed like 2227 had him pinned. If he tried to refute with words, 2227 would surely eviscerate him with at least seven pieces of evidence, and Cody knew so because it was how many he could come up with in his own head showing how 2227 was right. So, instead, Cody shot him a mild glare.

“But anyway,” 2227 said breezily in response to the glare, “yeah. Sure, you can help with this, I guess.” 

“Help with what?” Cody prompted when 2227 didn’t offer up any more information. 

The arm slid off of his brother’s face, and he looked up at the ceiling with his mouth stretched thin. “I like my job,” he said abruptly. “I like organizing and coordinating. Scheduling meetings, making sure that you take care of yourself. Watching the important shit happen, making sure that none of the less-important-but-still-necessary shit gets forgotten. I like being your executive assistant .” 

“Me too,” Cody agreed. “I wouldn’t get anything done without you here.”

His brother smiled. “You wouldn’t. So, yeah. I’ve been thinking about what Fox said, actually, about that Master of the Schedule thing. And I think that I would like it if you called me Skedd.” 

“Skedd,” Cody greeted, his heart soaring. Another brother divested of the number imprinted on their skin, another identity found, another way in which the vode were taking this  place and their lives and making it all their own. “I’m so glad for you.” 

Skedd made a face. “Shut the fuck up, Cody.” He looked away, but smiled before looking back to Cody bashfully. “But thanks.” 

The meeting started well, updates being flung about from person to person, caf flowing from the machine, and business being taken care of. The things that Cody, Skedd, and Fox had discussed before were rehashed and updates were made to the numbers. 

They were almost ready to start shifting their focus to how to get chips out of the smaller kids and the embryos in the decanting chambers, but Monnk let him know that Kix and Coric were hoping to talk to some other doctors, the MedCorps Jedi, and med bots to come up with the safest way to do so. 

Cody was planning to get scientists, doctors, and med bots from the Republic anyway, so he assured Monnk that was the plan and to keep performing surgeries in the meantime. The Jedi Corps were being extremely helpful, and a representative from their contingent named Rulan gave an update on their work as well. 

Kranak was stable, expanding and whole. Cody was so fucking proud of them all. 

And then it was his turn. “Alright everyone, I got this letter from the Chancellor,” he said, throwing the thing onto the table in front of him with a groan. 

“I’m not reading that,” Wolffe said immediately. “Somebody else better narrate.” 

Gree rolled his eyes but obligingly took the letter off of the table and began to read. “Dear President Cody.” He let out a huff. 

“Still weird as fuck to hear that,” Gregor commented before Bly smacked his arm and shushed him. 

Gree continued. “Due to Kranak's confirmed status as a fully fledged planet in the Republic, we would like to extend you an offer for a representative from Kranak to attend the Senate.” 

Groans burst out from around the table, interrupting Gree again. “They want one of us to go and navigate that shithole by ourselves?” Keller said, affronted. 

“Yeah, it’s bullshit,” Appo said. “I’m staying right here on Kranak, thanks. We have enough of our own stuff to worry about right now.” 

Monnk, on the other hand, shook his head slowly. “I know that we joined the Republic and all that, but them wanting us to send in a Senator is all kinds of wild, fucked-up, and crazy. In a good way. And a bad way, but also a good way.”

Cody had to agree with Monnk’s sentiment, although he also very much agreed with Appo’s want to stay put on Kranak where they did indeed have plenty of their own things to do. 

“Alright, alright, just let Gree read the damn letter,” Davijaan said, nodding to Gree to continue, who looked like he regretted picking the thing up but sighed before getting back to it. 

“The Senate, as the main governing body of the Republic, is a deeply important place to our democracy in which we want every planet to have a voice— including your very own. Please let us know if you accept this offer via return mail to the address below my signature, and if you already have appointed or elected a senator, please additionally provide us with their information.

“Your senator will be provided with rooms upon their arrival, and if any specifications are needed, we encourage you to include them in the return mail. We await their presence with anticipation, and congratulations once more on your acceptance into the Republic. Best, Chancellor Bail Organa.” 

Cody waved a hand. “So we need a Senator now, and since it can’t be me, we need to find somebody who is willing to do it.” 

Cody looked around the table. He wasn’t about to ask anybody if they wanted the role, even though he could think of a few good candidates already. Fox, for one, would be an excellent choice with all of his training in being discreet and decoding enemy information. He’d been prepped for Coruscant anyway, and had enough fierceness to get his way in a room full of sharks. But Cody knew that Fox also felt his duty on Kranak fiercely, and was afraid that anything he implied might force Fox into picking up his duty to serve, whether he wanted to or not.

Monnk and Gree were the other two that immediately came to mind, each with talents with people and knowledge of other cultures. Bly wouldn’t be a horrible choice either, with his ability to be both sharp and soft. And yet, Cody stayed silent in contemplation.

“Well. I mean, I know a few people over there already.” 

Cody snapped his neck up to look at Rex in shock, who was wearing a little grimace, but his eyes betrayed him with their intensity. Rex wasn’t one of the people he’d considered, but Cody knew once he thought about it for more than a second that Rex would excel at the job. 

But Cody didn’t want him to go far away, back to Coruscant. He and Rex shared experiences that some of their other brothers couldn’t understand. They both, in a sea of people that looked exactly the same, were marred with obvious anomalies on their visages. They’d both had to stand and watch as scientists had debated their decommissioning right in front of their faces. They’d both been swept up by 17 and saved by their ability to work hard, work past others’ expectations for them. And, though he hated to admit it, Rex was younger than him and Cody felt protective of him. The thought of letting Rex out of his sight again after he’d barely survived Geonosis made him twitch.

Cody bit his tongue painfully hard to keep himself silent.

“I have an in with the Jedi Council,” Rex pointed out. “And I know Senator Amidala, the Chancellor’s good friend. I missed this place while I was away, but I know I could do good work there. If that sounds alright?” 

It didn’t sound alright. Cody had been trained to desensitize himself and compartmentalize. Not every man that he’d send out to battle would come back, but this was Rex, his vod’ika . He was desperate to cling onto him, to tell him no, to ask him to stay. But Cody knew that was selfish of him. He had no right to control Rex. 

“I think you’d be amazing as Kranak’s senator,” he said, and it was the truth. “If that’s what you want to do.” 

“It should be up to a vote,” Rex teased, although he was also being serious.

Skedd nodded, but Cody shook his head. “This is one thing that I think we need to be strategic about. I don’t want to send anybody to Coruscant that hasn’t been prepared for a world of politics and gilded lies, and we don’t have time to train anybody who wasn’t in command. We’ll have a Kranak-wide vote on the next senator after Rex’s term is up. For now, we’ll vote at the table.” 

From there, it was a quick vote with all in favor to appoint Rex as Kranak’s first senator to the Galactic Republic.  

“Do you know what they want?” Keller asked Cody on their way to meet with the Alpha class clones. 

Cody shook his head. He hadn’t had the time to sit around and think about what the Alphas could want. He hoped that they had more direction than he did for themselves, to be honest; he knew he’d support pretty much anything they’d want to do. 

“No use speculating,” he told Keller. “That’s what the meeting is for, isn’t it? So they can just tell us?” 

Keller let out a startled laugh. “Yeah, I suppose so,” he said. “But seeing as how they’re technically older than us, I was wondering if they might have figured out a few more things than we have.” 

That was an interesting point. Cody considered the words, turned them over in his head and thought of 17— the weight in his gaze and the somber tone he sometimes took; his rare smiles and innocent looks; the reverence with which he shared Mandalorian culture with them and the hard way he pressed the intricacies of war into their brains— and had his answer. 

“I think they have different experiences than we do. That could mean more insight, or less, depending on the person. I’m prepared to meet them where they are.” 

Keller nodded. “Makes sense,” he said, and then they walked the rest of the way in silence, though it wasn’t much farther down the hall anyway.

Upon their entrance into the very full meeting room, the buzz of noise cut down immediately. There was an entire room of Alpha-class clones looking at them, but Cody wasn’t intimidated. Not after gathering in front of all his brothers and offering to move for independence. He moved to the front of the room, cast his gaze about, and then sat down in an open chair, leaving Keller scrambling behind him to do the same. 

“Hello,” he offered, loud in the quiet room. 

“Kote,” 17 said back from somewhere in the middle of the room, several tables back. Cody moved his gaze in 17’s direction before acknowledging his greeting with a nod. 

“If nobody else has said it yet,” Cody began, a bit of amusement curling around his mouth, “welcome to Kranak.” 

This comment seemed to startle the bunch of faces looking at him, and an uproar began. Obviously, Cody thought dryly, nobody had given all of the Alphas a run down on what, exactly, had happened on-world since they’d been frozen, and each of them had a different, yet incomplete, set of facts to work with. 

So, Cody called for order, banging his hand on the table without standing up until the chatter ceased. “Let me tell you all what has occurred since—” he hesitated, then realized he did not know, so asked, “—when were you all frozen away?” 

“Medic said it’s been three years,” an unfamiliar face called. 

A grunt came from Cody’s left. “I was told it’d only been six months.” 

The answers continued to stream in, each a little different, which Cody supposed made sense. They were probably frozen in batches, taken here and there for “missions” or “decommissioning” in phases until all of them had been sufficiently stored away for whatever the di’kutla longnecks had wanted them for. It also explained why Cody and the other ARC troopers hadn’t noticed their absence, gradual as it had been. 

Still, the farthest back he heard had been three years, so Cody took a deep breath and started from there. The report started out military sharp, no extra details and only facts as Cody outlined what he’d learned about the dealings of theRepublic during that time as well as the preparations on then-Kamino ramping up in expectation of the war to come. However, as Cody began to tell the Alphas about the personal events that happened to him that had made their rebellion and taking of Kranak possible, the facts began to dissolve into something softer and more lyrical. Cody found that he could not stop himself from telling the Alphas how he’d felt, what choices he’d tripped over and the viciousness he’d felt locking Nala Se and the scientists away. He told them of his dealings with the Jedi and the Republic and becoming president against his will. Being lost and looking, searching for the identity that they wanted to have, the act of becoming. 

Cody watched as their faces turned from those of hardened generals to sentient beings with feelings as they swayed to his story. There were murmurs, exclamations of surprise and joy, the rumble of feet stomping in support. His audience had come alive for him, and Cody did them the service of giving his all in his tale’s telling until it finally ended with his arrival in this very room to meet all of them. 

“So I’ve come to tell you that your freedom is your own now. You can do whatever it is you wish to do.” Cody spread his hands. “Kranak will welcome you if you choose to stay. After all, there is plenty of work to be done. But we have ships now, and will begin commerce with other worlds soon, so if you would like to leave you can as well. The choice is yours, and you are free to change your minds as many times as you wish.” 

Someone stood. “My name is Fordo,” he announced, and Cody startled. 17 had never truly given them a name other than Alpha, which was his class. It made sense that some of them would have names, since 17 had been the one to give Cody and his fellow cadets the mandate to name themselves, but he had never heard of it before. 

Fordo continued, unaware of the shift that Cody had just gone through. “Alor Kote, vor entye par gar’kot bal mandokar. Ashnar anur jatne manda par an aka’liit. Ke’ru’akio waadas.”

Stunned, Cody let the words sink in. Alor Kote— Chancellor. Fordo’s adoption of the closest word they had in mando’a to “president” almost would have been enough, but the rest of it, too? Cody didn’t think he’d done enough to earn being called strong and a bringer of inner peace and wealth to his people— not yet, at least. The words, however, touched him deeply. 

“Vor entye. Vor entye,” Cody repeated, and Fordo raised his arms, beginning to stomp as the other Alphas and even Keller stomped along with him in celebration. It was the tipping point to make Cody dip his head down, screwing his eyes shut and drawing in a shuddering breath as he was overcome with emotion. 

“Kote! Oya Kote!” Some called out over the din. Those closest to Cody reached out to him, slapped his back in solidarity and celebration before Keller grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. 

“Oya Alor Kote!” Keller shouted at him, face broken into a crazed grin, wiping under Cody’s eyes to dry the wetness. “Celebrate, man, damnit!” He said, and shook Cody’s shoulders before turning him back to the room of Alpha-class clones banging on tables and stomping and cheering for him, for the work he’d done, for the future he’d secured. 

His heart lightened at the sight. “Oya manda!” Cody yelled into the fray. 

“Kranak, Kranak, Kranak,” someone began to say, and the stomping and shouting tapered off as the people around them adopted the phrase. At first, the volume was low, barely more than a whisper, but it picked up as the chant continued, becoming more and more emphatic. 

“Kranak, Kranak, Kranak!” Cody couldn’t help but join in, adding his voice to the chorus, not caring that they were getting louder and louder. “Kranak! Kranak! Kranak!” 

The door to the room swung open, a few faces peering in curiously, but the chant continued as they looked on before turning to each other, grinning, and joining in.

“Kranak!” One yelled to the other. 

“Kranak!” His companion yelled right back, and then they were gesturing for the Alphas to come out of the room, to continue, to follow the both of them. Cody didn’t know their names, sadly, but he followed them nonetheless, the Alphas streaming ahead and behind him, fiercely screaming the name of the planet that was now theirs, celebrating their freedom of being in an aggressive display that was true to who they were: warriors. 

The tide swept them up; as Cody and his hundred-some companions passed by those doing their duties, just walking past, or doors opening to the cacophony of noise coming their way, they picked up momentum, Cody’s brothers putting down what they were doing to join in on the expression of fierce joy. 

“Kranak! Kranak! Kranak!” Rang out louder and louder; they passed through the mess and meals were left abandoned, the chefs turning off ovens and putting pans off to cool so that they could join in, still in aprons, the crowd thrumming. 

Cody felt bigger than himself. He was not just Cody, but a speck in the amalgamation of his brethren around him, flowing and ebbing and being. He could take on a city like this. He could conquer the world. No blaster needed, just this energy in his hands and mind and spirit. The sound of their home falling from their lips was enough. 

The loudspeaker system crackled to life, and Cody laughed as the voice of 8209, now named Wave, joined in, saying, “Kranak! Kranak!” 

Cody hadn’t felt like this ever in his life before, so joyful and fierce, and let it wash over him, marching for the glory of his people that something in him settled. He was president. He was meant for this. This, somehow, was his destiny. 

The stubborn ori’vod who only wanted the best for his brothers had become more than he’d ever dared dream of. He’d had greatness thrust upon him, but he’d held onto it with both hands as it swung him around like prey in a hunter’s mouth. This was what victory felt like. 

It was only a few hours later, after the chaos had ended in a spontaneous party full of music and improvised dancing, that Cody was shoved into a pod and made to rest by none other than Davijaan. Precisely eight hours after being forced in the pod, Cody ejected himself trembling with purpose. 

He felt awash with light as he walked to the mess and got breakfast, using his personal datapad to message Blackout, Bacara, and Stone to ask if they wanted to eat with him that morning. He quickly received an affirmation from Stone, who asked if he could bring along a couple of friends, which Cody affirmed. 

As he waited, he read through the news on the intranet, taking note of an update from the medics and a post about the status of factories as well as a couple of holos of the crowds all the way down a hall and some of the dancing that had taken place in the mess, all of the tables shoved to the edges of the room. He smiled and checked in to make sure that Skedd was asleep, because he knew that the di’kut needed it, but saw that Bacara was also offline and assumed somebody had made him rest as well. A moment later, Blackout messaged him, begging off of joining them since he’d eaten only a few hours earlier and wasn’t yet ready for another meal, which Cody understood and told him they’d talk another time. 

Only a few minutes later, Cody found himself at the mess with real food on his plate— fish, seaweed, a roll of bread, and a cup of broth— and strongly brewed caf in his hand. When he sat down, he was quickly met by Stone and his friends, who were apparently the people that worked under him in one of the facilities that had taken on preparing fish that had recently been caught. The group was a jovial bunch, regaling Cody with stories of funny things that had happened while they’d been working and how one of them, named Fishtail, had earned his very name on the job since he’d asked a question about fins versus tails that made Stone laugh his ass off when he’d heard it. 

Cody also asked them if they’d joined the festivities last night, and all of them nodded zealously. 

“We should have that kind of stuff more often!” Vatt, one of the other workers, told him. “I’ve never had more fun in my life.” 

Cody immediately pulled up the suggestion box on his datapad, knowing that it would get taken care of by somebody and knowing he’d forget about it any other way, and wrote in: MORE PARTIES LIKE LAST NIGHT. GOOD FOR MORALE. FUN LIKE OUR LIVES HAVE NOT BEEN before primly showing the group at the table and pressing the submit button, which all of them thought was fucking hilarious. 

Cody hadn’t thought it was that humorous, but the ego boost was nice, and the rest of the meal passed faster than he wanted it to and he had to take his leave.  

Once Cody got to his office, he only had time to read through a few more intranet posts and respond to a few comm messages from Senator Amidala and Obi-Wan before someone came knocking on his door.

Cody looked up to see a face just a little different than his own, older but it was not 17. One of the other Alphas, then. Since they’d all gotten a bit carried away yesterday, Cody hadn’t been able to have the conversation he’d really wanted to with the Alpha-class clones, but there had been a ton of posts on the intranet welcoming them and thanking them for the celebration that had gone on yesterday, including a crash course in Kranak’s recent history, which Cody had only skimmed, but had found humorous. 

Cody nodded at the man in front of him, who came to stand at parade rest in front of Cody’s desk in a way that made him feel almost uncomfortable just by virtue of being sitting. 

“My name is Sull,” he introduced himself. “I’ve come to give you a report on behalf of the Alpha-class clones.” 

“Thank you,” Cody said, and made sure he was paying full attention to Sull, noticing that a slight frown marred his face. He sincerely hoped there wouldn't be more bad news.

Unfortunately, Cody’s wish did not come true. 

“Four of us have been confirmed dead,” Sull reported, “from various accounts as well as documentation that we had 54 find. There are two unaccounted for: Spar and 99.”

Sull was quiet for just a moment, and Cody closed his eyes while breathing in. Six Alphas out of 99. The number could have been worse, Cody tried to tell himself, but every brother lost brought pain to his heart.

 When he opened his eyes, Sull continued. “They weren’t in the pods, a squad went with me and checked.” 

Back to business, then. “There’s no other place where they could be stored?” Cody asked, musing over the logistics in his head. 

“Possibly,” Sull said, confirming Cody’s thoughts, “but it’s extremely unlikely. Besides, why would they store 99? He wouldn’t let them, and the longnecks looked down on him because of his deformities.” 

Cody’s heart dropped. 99 was a favorite of many of the younger clones– almost like a grandparent or uncle. He’d looked out for them, always had a smile and protected them from the longnecks as much as he could get away with. “It’s possible that… I don’t like the thought. But, 99 could be dead. The longnecks might have just,” Cody grimaced, “decommissioned him. You know how they are.”

“I do,” Sull said, scowling darkly. 

They sat there in silence for a moment, and grief coated Cody’s tongue once more. “I’ll ask Fox to look for something just in case,” he said, unable to let the matter rest. “He’s the best slicer of all of us, and he’s been knee-deep in the Kaminoans’ databases. Do you have anything on Spar?” 

Sull’s mouth grew pinched. “No, but he was always so free-thinking. I hope that he escaped. Of the four of us that were killed, one was for disobedience and the other three were for attempted desertion.” 

Cody stilled in his chair, coldness overtaking his being before it ignited into a glacial fire. The longnecks had no right. He decided right then that if Spar or 99 were still alive, Cody would find them. “I hope so too.”  

Unfortunately, Cody could not let the mystery of 99 and Spar overtake him. He passed the job of slicing on to Fox and then was swept back up into life on Kranak, which continued to work and make work for Cody to oversee. There were, after all, always a million things to do, and Cody only rested when somebody else pushed him into a pod for eight hours before he was off again. 

Skedd, thankfully, kept him fed and watered and did a fantastic job managing Cody’s workload; bringing in a few people to help him manage the management that all quickly claimed the office space around Cody’s, making the hallway to Cody’s office a bustling space full of workers on datapads who Cody was delighted to get to know.

Their names were Fives, Resk, Leaf, Kosmo, and Laug. Each one of them was a great help and began to take on the tasks of organizing and solidifying as well as helping Cody finish projects that he just couldn’t see through on his own as well as the other commanders’ projects that needed legislative help. 

Rex was also beginning to prepare for his role as Kranak’s senator, and although he hadn’t left yet, Cody knew that his brother would soon. He was not ready, but Cody didn’t think he ever would be, and did his best to soak up Rex’s presence while he was still here, carefully asking Skedd to select times to eat for him that match up with Rex’s schedule. 

It was not soon after that the second convoy from the Republic arrived, Chancellor Bail Organa delivering on his promise to scrounge up Volunteer Doctors and MedCorps to work with the contingent of medics run by Kix and Coric to finish removing the chips— which they did— and began to work out the more delicate details of caring for the embryos yet to be decanted and figuring out a gene therapy regime to reverse the clones’ accelerated again. 

Cody also made sure that the contract that each of the off-world med staff signed was absolutely airtight, using a new lawyer contact of Rex’s on Coruscant to read through and ensure that no data or genetic material from the clones would be at risk. 

The buildings out over the water were more than halfway done. Name certificates continued to roll in. Polls happened every day and things were chosen with abandon. There was good cheer and laughter, and Cody still pondered every choice he made with the same curiosity that earned him the title of president in the first place.  

The first Commander to come to Cody was Gree. 

“I’ll understand if you say no,” he said, and his eyes were staring past Cody’s shoulder like he was trying to pretend that Cody didn’t have the power to hurt him. “But I don’t think I want to be doing this anymore.” 

Cody put a hand on Gree’s shoulder. “What do you mean?” 

Gree tensed, his lips pressing together in a thin line before he exhaled like he was preparing to be shot and explained, “This work is important, but it’s not what I want to be doing. I see Kord playing that instrument in the mess every night and I see Ruaza and his group spray painting the walls and I hear Tiff and Blast and them babbling about cell research and I want to be doing something like that. Something that I love.” 

Cody furrowed his eyebrows, surprise and realization washing over him all at once. “You don’t like your job?” He asked to confirm.

Grimacing, Gree shook his head. “No, sir,” he confirmed grimly.

“Okay,” Cody said. “That’s fine. We can add a notice in the morning announcements that we need somebody to take over your duties, then. Would you be willing to walk someone through what you’re responsible for so you can hand it off well?” 

Apparently, Cody’s reaction was surprising to Gree, because he stood there blinking incredulously for a moment. “You’re… you’re fine to just let me leave my post? I’m a Commander, sir!”

There was a stir in Cody’s heart at the proclamation, a twisted and pained expression on Gree’s face only making it worse. Cody was president, and he enjoyed his job mostly, and he felt purpose every day when he woke up to try and make life better for his brothers, but it wasn’t the same as being a Commander had been. How could it? 

“We’re not at war anymore, Gree,” Cody reminded Gree. “You might have been through the ARC program, but your rank of Commander doesn’t have to mean anything now if you don’t want it to. If you think that you’ll be able to do something worthwhile, something that makes you feel like you’re contributing something worthwhile in this galaxy, then who am I to hold you back from that?”  

Gree huffed out a sardonic laugh, shaking his head. “You make it sound so easy. But I feel the weight of responsibility so terribly, it’s hard.” 

Cody could relate to that feeling. “I know. But if you hate it, then what’s the point of us building Kranak anyway? I want all of us to be happy. That is my main objective, Gree, and if you hate your job then I not only will help you get out but will employ Skedd to help you find something you like better.” 

Gree laughed, waving him off. “Skedd has better shit to do than help me, Cody. I’ll figure it out.” And he’d smiled at Cody, warm and excited before the two of them fiddled with logistics of getting another person to help with Gree’s duties. 

However, even after everything had been squared away, Gree’s situation would not leave his mind for the rest of the day. Cody couldn’t get the notion out of his head that Gree might not be the only person in Command that didn’t actually like being in charge of all the legislative work that running Kranak had turned into.

There were times when Cody himself wasn’t sure he was equipped to be president of a whole planet, and the weight of taking care of all of his brothers in that way was terrifying when he allowed himself to think about it for too long. Without everyone that had stepped up to help him, Cody would be dead at the bottom of the ocean. If they weren’t happy, Cody resolved, they should have the chance to be. He made a mental note to bring it up at the next Command meeting, before he finally put the line of thinking to rest and got back to work.

Chapter Text

From behind his desk, Cody rubbed his eyes and sighed. He was getting a headache; parsing through legalese was hard enough, but writing it was worse. Thankfully, Padmé’s assistance on the subject had helped, but he still wasn’t 100% sure what he was writing even made sense. 

Looking back down at the datapad, Cody read over his words one more time. 

Communal Spaces and Resources

“Communal” in this document refers to spaces or resources that not one citizen of Kranak owns, nor the government, but all of the people of Kranak communally. This means that the resources and spaces must therefore be used in a manner appropriate to the space or task for which it was allocated. Communal spaces are allowed communal resources, given that the activity in question is not harmful to any sentient being and has been approved for coverage by Kranak’s legal system. Should a citizen of Kranak wish to own individually any item or space deemed communal, they must request to do so via the representative in charge of that space or item and submit Form 44 (attached) if approved for record keeping. 

Well. It probably made sense. And it was still in the early stages, so Cody could always redraft this section of the property law later. For now, he was content that there were no glaring errors, and sent the draft over to Laug, one of the men that Skedd had found to assist Cody that had an interest in law. Cody had a feeling that he was about to become an invaluable resource— and a busy man— in no time at all, and thanked the universe that Skedd was such a meddling di’kut. 

Since his brain still felt like it was melting, Cody pulled up the intranet’s main channel to catch up on the posts of the day. He was happy to see that the guitarist Kord had posted a new song, and put it on to listen to while he stood from his desk, turning around to gaze out the transparisteel window at the waves beneath him. He closed his eyes after a moment— Kord was getting good— only to open them in surprise a moment later when a voice joined in and began singing along in Mando’a. Cody turned around to look at the holovid playing and saw a second person next to Kord who, according to the caption, was named Sevvie. The caption also said, Thank you to Sharpe (A-073) for giving us this traditional Mandalorian victory song from your memory. We hope we were able to do it justice!

Cody was mesmerized until the holovid ended, at which point he immediately commed Skedd and 17, telling them to watch the holo immediately. They both would enjoy it immensely, he was sure of it. 

Cody put the song on again, then continued to read through the posts. There was a group working on the assembly of a hopefully more energy efficient water purifying system and a group of divers going to explore Kranak’s ocean half for map-making purposes and half for fun, as far as Cody could tell. He marked down the leaders of those activities to inquire about later or even comm himself to ask about how it had gone. Additionally, the meal poll for the mess was about to close, so Cody quickly voted for the option that looked the tastiest: a spicy fish stew with tubers and dried seaweed crumble on top. 

After that, Cody realized that he should probably get back to work, but saw a sign-up for Mando’a lessons taught by Fordo and had to put his name down immediately. And then, below that, there was a post by a vod going by CT-7829 that shyly explained he was writing a fictional story and wanted to share as well as get feedback on it; Cody was pulled into the world of the piece within the first two paragraphs. He read with an intensity he hadn’t found since the last Mandalorian princess novel he and Skedd had consumed like air off of 17’s stolen datapads. 

“Cody?” Someone asked, their voice muffled through the closed door, breaking him out of the trance 7829’s story had put him under. 

Guiltily, Cody shoved his datapad away and cleared his throat. “Come in,” he called back, and hoped that there hadn’t been something he was supposed to attend but had missed. 

The food opened to reveal Fox, who looked uncharacteristically hesitant in the entryway of Cody’s office, lingering there until Cody stood and gestured to the more comfortable chairs in front of his desk. 

“Come sit,” he said, getting the feeling that this was less of an official meeting and more of a personal conversation. “Let’s get comfortable.”

Fox nodded and walked over, dropping into the left chair heavily as Cody lowered himself in the one on the right side. He watched curiously as Fox ran a hand through his hair before visibly readying himself and looking at Cody. 

“I figured it’s past time for me to tell you what ‘17 and I talked about,” Fox said. 

Cody let out a breath and slumped. He had thought Fox was going to say something way worse, but they could deal with this just fine. He nodded, encouraging Fox to continue.

“Technically, it’s nothing bad. When he woke up, you were asleep, so I was the one who took over talking to him. Fine. But when I walked in, he looked right at me and said Good job like I had been the one to do this. Like it made sense that I was in charge. And I know we’re all aware of those talyc rumors about my assignment being on Coruscant or a flagship, but something about the way he just assumed it had all been me… well it made me feel horrible. Because it hadn’t been me, it was you. And, even worse, standing there, I wanted it to have been me. I wanted to be in charge of this place. It’s hard work, but it’s honest and it’s right and it’s every bit as worthwhile— no, more worthwhile— than the war we were training to win. So that’s why I’ve been off. Sorry, Cody.” 

Cody blinked at Fox twice, taking in the guilt and passion warring on Fox’s face. “And why would I be angry about that?” He asked, exasperated. “Oh no, you want to help run Kranak. Well I can’t do it on my own. And yesterday, I was talking to Gree and he told me he wants out, so not everybody is cut out for this. I’m thankful you want to stay, because I know Gree’s not the only one who’s going to want to do something different.”

Fox’s face collapsed in relief. “Oh. Good.” He tilted his head and smiled, the expression tinged with fond exasperation. “I’m not surprised about Gree though, he was always interested in anthropology more than politics. What I am surprised about is that Davijaan hasn’t said something already.”

A barking laugh escaped Cody without his permission. “ Osik, yeah you’re right. Over under on him dipping to go fly a ship around within the next four rotations?” 

Fox was smiling now, too. “Eighty/twenty, definitely. No way I’d bet money on him taking any longer than that.” 

Scoffing, Cody rolled his eyes, then looked at Fox and shrugged, falling back into serious territory. “Sure. But, well, I think the reason he hasn’t said anything yet is that we all feel responsible. We were chosen to lead, and deciding to turn away from that… I can imagine that it feels like failure.”

Sorrow hit Fox’s face. “Yeah. I can see that. Osik, we need to bring this up at the next meeting. Davi and Gree can’t be the only ones who want out.”

“Now you’re talking,” Cody agreed. “We should probably just get the real election on the books. If you felt so right about leading this place, you can get on the ballot too, Fox. Maybe I’m not the right person for the job.”

“Banthashit, Cody. And stop giving me that look— Fine, I’ll think about it. Kriff, atin mir’shebs. But that’s not everything I came here to say.”

“Oh! Do you have an update on Spar and 99?” 

Fox snorted. “Yeah. The update is that there is no update. Literally, there’s no records of anything anywhere. Except, apparently 99 was up for decommissioning. So we can speculate from there, but there’s no hard facts.” 

“Am I the first one you’ve told, besides your team?” 

“I didn’t want to tell the Alphas just yet. I’m holding out hope that we will find them, but I’ll get someone from my team to let them know at the end of our upcoming shift if we’re still not getting any hits.” 

“Sounds like a solid plan. We’ll keep looking.”

Conversation with Padmé Amidala

Just confirmed a meeting time with

your assistant Skedd in a few rotations.

Very much looking forward to talking

with you live! I’ll have Chancellor

Organa, Obi-Wan, your friend Neyo

and Mon Mothma on the call. Skedd

said you’d be able to bring Senator

Rex as well, if you wouldn’t mind 

confirming.

Glad to hear it. I’m looking forward to

speaking with and meeting everyone.

Confirmed with Senator Rex — he will

be there. 

Great! Also, I did forward your comm

frequency to Satine, expect her to reach

out soon. I’m sure you and her will be

able to make a strong connection!

The day of the next Command meeting, Cody was barely focusing on whatever topics they were set to discuss later in the day, instead in his head about Mandalore. When Amidala told Cody that she’d forwarded his comm info to Satine Kryze, he hadn’t been able to hold back a grimace. Most of the people that Amidala had introduced to him had been helpful, but Cody had too many complicated feelings about Mandalore in general not to be apprehensive.

He tried to work more on the revisions Laug had sent him on some legal documents, but the words kept swimming in front of his eyes, his mind jumpy and distracted. 

“Hey, you’ve got visitors,” Skedd called from his desk right outside. 

Thankful for any distraction, Cody put his datapad aside and looked up to the grinning face of Monnk, accompanied by a blank-faced Blackout. 

“My liege,” Monnk said overdramatically, performing a little curtsy that made Cody snort. 

“Hey asshole,” Cody snarked right back. “Sit down before I decide that I do like paperwork better than you after all.” 

Monnk threw himself into a chair lazily while Blackout rolled his eyes and sunk into the other seat like a normal being. 

“What brings you here?” Cody asked after a beat. 

Blackout lifted his eyebrows and one side of his mouth pulled up. “We actually didn’t schedule this. Skedd called us because he said that you were giving yourself a headache and wouldn’t tell him why. So you have me, for protection and strategy, and Monnk for…”

“For creative solutions and unbridled enthusiasm, of course,” Monnk finished. 

Cody looked through the gap between their chairs and just barely got a glimpse of Skedd’s unrepentant expression before he leaned back out of view.

“Is that so?” He made sure he said it loudly enough for Skedd to hear.

“Yes,” Monnk said, overly earnest. “So, what’s got you all tied up?”

Cody huffed. “Apparently the Duchess of Mandalore now has my personal comm information— and she’s going to use it.”

It was almost funny how Monnk and Blackout cringed the exact same way, but Cody knew exactly what was running through their heads. It wasn’t as if many of them had been off of Kamino before, but they’d learned about Mandalore, had listened to their trainers talk about it and 17’s third-hand stories. Mandalorians were tough bastards— they had to be, as all clones could attest to— but they’d been through the wringer over the past 30 years, especially. 

The government had gone through upheaval after upheaval and the world had separated from the Republic to focus on its own internal issues, only leaving it more isolated. Factions had warred, some sent away in exile and many were dead. 

Mandalore’s current ruler, the Duchess Satine, had decided to try something entirely antithetical to Mandalorian culture in order to stop the chaos: being a pacifist. For a culture of warriors, she must’ve had a high intimidation factor or been very persuasive, Cody thought, to have kept power with so much civil unrest. 

And though Cody did want to try and make overtures to connect all of them with their heritage, he wasn’t sure if he could trust the Duchess or if she would be the kind of ruler— or person— to reach out in a collaborative, constructive way. 

“How the kriff did she get your comm frequency?” Blackout said, looking like he wanted a beverage even though Cody was pretty sure his day had just begun.

Cody sighed. “That’s the thing. Amidala, the one who helped get us freedom? She forwarded it over. Apparently they’re close personal friends.” 

“Amidala and Kryze?”

“Yes,” Cody nodded. “Small galaxy, huh?”

“Sure seems like it, these days. Do we have any info on how close or far away they are on the civil war ledge? We know they’re not completely on solid ground, since this is Mandalore we’re talking about, but getting a gauge would be a good start.” Monnk pointed out, looking to Blackout, who was already pulling out his datapad to look up some intel. 

Cody and Monnk waited patiently as Blackout’s fingers began to fly. Blackout only liked to answer when he had an answer, and not before. Cody always appreciated that about him. 

As they waited, Cody’s mind drifted and he found himself thinking that a mutual partnership with Mandalore had the potential to be a good thing. If Kryze was at all reasonable and her government wasn’t at significant risk of being toppled, that was. Because Cody knew what state the planet was in: decimated, broken, and barren. Mandalorians lived in domes due to how uninhabitable their planet had become due to the infighting. 

Kranak, on the other hand, was a lush water world rich in untapped resources with, currently, a lot of potential, eyes on them as the newest member of the Republic, and powerful allies including the newest Chancellor. 

Sure, Mandalore and Kranak weren’t next-door neighbors, but a less than 10 rotation trip along established hyperspace lanes for most of it wasn’t too bad, and he was pretty confident in any brigade of clones’ ability to fight off pirates on potential resource shipments. 

“Alright,” Blackout said. “The most updated Kaminoans’ reports that were being used for clone training put Mandalore as stable at current. I ran a few extra scans on the HoloNet and the general consensus is the same, but there are a few whispers that I’m going to want to look into. Could be nothing, but you know me. Paranoid to the last.” 

That sounded fair. “I mean, I’d be surprised if nobody was trying to overthrow her,” Cody said. “It would just seem a little implausible, knowing Mandos.”

Monnk snorted. “For sure. But if Blackie here says no immediate red flags, I think you should at least talk to her.” 

Blackout didn’t stop typing as he flatly replied, “Agreed. With the course of action, not that boracyk’sheb nickname.” 

“Okay, good,” Cody said. “Because I have some ideas, and you’re going to help me get them in order to present at the Command meeting soon.”

Blackout stopped typing and Monnk gave him a crazy grin. 

“Oh you shabla chakaar , of course you do. Lay it on us!”

“Who the kriff did you forward my comm information to?” said Rex as he kicked the door open, startling Monnk out of his chair and making Blackout toss his datapad aside for his blaster while Cody rolled his eyes. 

Before anyone had a chance to answer, Rex continued, “Also Davi told me to fetch you for the command meeting ‘or else’.”

“I gave your comm frequency to Senator Amidala, you ungrateful brat. Please tell me you’ve been playing nice?” Cody said, swallowing the laugh bubbling up at Blackout tucking away his blaster and Monnk trying to keep his dignity intact by brushing the nonexistent dust off his ass. Rex, on the other hand, grinned openly like the osik’ika he was. 

“Also,” Cody added, “rude of Davi to assume we’d be late. Skedd knows better than to let that happen.” 

Rex tutted. “Skedd’s off right now, and he left his role to Fives. Davi doesn’t trust him with anything.” 

An affronted scoff from outside Cody’s office was audible at that discerning display of confidence, and Fives poked his head in. “I’m hurt, Rex, honestly.” 

Blackout, now amused, shook his head as they all finished gathering their things to head over to the command meeting, commenting, “Somehow, I keep forgetting how dramatic we can be.” 

Fives, smartly holding a datapad, replied. “33 did tell me that Prime was dramatic and petty as fuck. So I believe it’s about 73% genetic, sir.” 

“C’mon, c’mon, let’s get a move on,” Rex said, barreling over any further discussion on the subject before they were off.  

The command meeting started off smoothly. There were positive updates from almost all project leaders— the education curriculum had been nailed down for the time being and men were stepping up to fill the roles of teachers and instructors, with the EduCorps Jedi training them for their roles. Expansion and building were still ongoing, but Cody didn’t foresee that coming to a halt anytime soon. Regulations on ensuring their consumption of resources were still being drafted, but the passion radiated off of Stone’s hands when he relayed the information to everyone, so Cody felt optimistic about its outcome. More name forms were still rolling in, and Cody gave his updates on their constitution with Laug’s words ringing in his brian the entire time. After his own legal updates, the medics succinctly walked them through their side of things. 

“We’ve worked out a way to get the chips out of the kids and embryos, but we’re still working on testing before we dive in and do any surgeries,” Coric reported. Monnk, who’d been in charge, had invited him to come do the report since he had just been handling the admin side of things. 

“Additionally,” Coric continued, “we have a team that’s been working on taking our genetics and finding a way to decelerate our aging. They’ve taken the notes from the longnecks to get a jump on it, but have had to verify everything. It’s taking a longer time than expected, but the doctors that Chancellor Organa sent have been very helpful. We’re doing what we can.” 

Cody nodded and asked, “Should we ask for a few more off-worlders to help?”

Looking thoughtful, Coric slowly spoke. “It would be nice to have the extra brain power, but we’d also have to get them up to speed, which might make everything take longer. If you can find somebody who already specializes in genetic therapy and research, then yes. If not...” he shrugged. Cody made a note, but nodded. 

From there, Rulan the Jedi Corps representative gave his update on the Jedi contingent and Fox and Sull stepped up to grimly let everyone know that there was no news on the missing 99 and Spar, and that the Alphas had been made aware while they all still kept digging just in case. 

“Senatorship is coming along,” Rex said once it was his turn. “Alor Cody here set me up for some pen pal networking thing, so I’ve been on my comm like mad, but I’ve got lessons with a few of the Alphas, some of the Jedi Corps, Fox and some Senator meetings so everything is taking shape.”

“Woohoo, go Rex!” Gregor shouted, and Wolffe next to him punched his arm while telling him to shut up, only to make several others clap. 

Rex, who was standing, took a mocking little bow. “Thank you, thank you. It’s appreciated, gentlemen.”

Stifling a laugh, Cody let him sit down before bringing up his matters. “I have a few things I’d like for everyone to weigh in on. The first is our jobs. Men, listen to me.” Cody put his palms on the table and leaned in, making eye contact with all those at the table. “I know we’re Command. I know that we all were chosen to be leaders, to make hard decisions for our brothers during wartime. But we are no longer at war. We are at peace. We are free. So, if there's anybody here that wants to step down from their position or move to do other work, please say something— here and now, to me privately, to Skedd or Fox or Fives or anyone— and we will make sure that you are happy. That is my promise to you as your president. Your chosen alor.”

Cody locked eyes with Gree from across the table. He was already halfway transitioned out of his role, but Cody knew he had yet to announce it to the whole group. One side of Gree’s mouth twitched up in a wry acknowledgement, and he leaned forward, clearing his throat to say, “I’m stepping down, for instance.” 

Immediately, there was an uproar, people talking over each other all at once; the same group of men that had applauded Rex on his senator update began to clap again and Cody caught Davijaan’s face flashing in hope before he’d shrunk it back down and stuffed it away in an instant.

Blackout, who Cody had sat next to, sighed and passed him a steaming hot new cup of caf that Fives had handed to him. Cody sipped it gratefully just as Fil called out for everyone to be quiet. 

After some semblance of order had been restored, Cody asked, “Is there anyone else right now that wants to step down or transfer?”

Silence stretched out for a couple of seconds. Cody found that he was incapable of keeping his gaze at eye level in fear of looking straight at Davijaan, not wanting to put him on the spot but aching in his certainty that his batchmate would be happier if he weren’t in charge of everything that was falling through the cracks— which he’d learned meant a lot of organizing and directing and, in his free time, answering ask box questions or writing up announcements with Wave or looking over schematics. And, of course, Davi was capable of doing all of those things, but Cody knew that it brought him little joy.

“I’d be more useful elsewhere,” Monnk said. “Coric gave today’s update largely because I couldn’t. I don’t have the technical knowledge, I just bully the medics into taking breaks instead of running themselves into the ground.” 

“Understood,” Cody confirmed. “Do you have what you want to do instead?”

Monnk saluted him sharply, sarcasm bleeding through as he said, “No idea, sir.” 

Cody rolled his eyes fondly. “That’s fine. Take some time to figure it out. Does your position need replacing, or can the others absorb your duties? Coric?”

“We can handle scheduling. And Teek can help with getting the medics to take breaks.” 

“Good,” Cody said. “Anyone else?”

A beat passed. Two. Cody took another sip on his quickly cooling caf before—

“Stop karking kicking me, Bacara!” Davi hissed. 

“I wouldn’t have kicked you if you'd just tell Cody what we all already know you want to say!” Bacara said.

“I mean, come on Davi,” Fox said.

“Don’t karking lie to us, you know you don’t want to run shit!” Gregor called out.

“Where’s your ship, Odd Ball?” Keller asked, miming the motions of staring up a ship.

Cody smiled at Davijaan sheepishly. “So?”

Davi sighed, putting his head in his hands. “Yeah, I want out. You talyc ori’chakaare. ”

This time, when the clapping contingent returned, the entire room joined in until Davi laughed and called them all assholes one more time. 

“Alright,” Cody said, still laughing a moment later, “anyone else, please send me a message sometime in the next few rotations. We can set up another round of electrons for any spots that need filling, and I was thinking if there are any new positions that we need to create that we should put those on the ballot as well.” 

“Cody, do we have anyone running our finances?” Faie asked.

“We have plenty of money,” Cody reassured him, “but nobody is dedicated to it. I’ll add that.” 

“We should make this a priority,” Fox said. “Is twelve rotations reasonable for everyone to think about this, talk to Cody, and get everything set up?”

There were nods of acknowledgement around the table. 

“I’ll let Wave know we’ll have an election in twelve rotations’ time.” Fives confirmed.

To end the meeting, Cody, Blackout and Monnk regaled the team with their plan of approach on Mandalore, asking for input and adjusting a few things accordingly. By the time they’d nailed things down, Cody was actually looking forward to hearing from Duchess Satine. 

When he turned to Fives to say so, he’d only given Cody a cheeky wave before Bly escorted him first to the mess to eat and then to his pod for some rest after the long day he’d had. 

Even though Mandalore was a shitshow right now, Cody had actually been pleasantly surprised when he’d started talking to the Duchess Satine Kryze. She’d had a level head, a shrewd mind, and a generous streak— none of which he’d expected, truthfully. 

After all of the strategy meetings on their approach for Mandalore, Cody had been ready to take the long game on their approach, slowly ingratiating himself to the duchess and sending over a contingent with Rex in a few months to make a good impression, but Satine had taken to their conversation and potential allyship much faster than expected. Cody wondered if Padmé or another one of her friends had eased the way for him, and felt unexpectedly grateful and a little flattered that these new allies had likely been as steadfast behind their backs as they had to his face. 

So, with how well things were going, Cody thought it was likely he could advance their plans and try to invest in the cultural exchange earlier than he would have otherwise, which could open up the door to some trade agreements as well. Mandalore was a devastated world, bionaturally, and Kranak had natural resources in abundance. 

As Cody picked at the meal Skedd placed before him only a few moments earlier, he contemplated the long game of their alliance. Perhaps if Kranak could help Mandalore stabilize somehow, they could convince the duchess to rejoin the Republic as well? From what Rex had told him, Padmé certainly had a hefty agenda for the Senate that Rex agreed would be helpful to try and pass as much of that legislation as possible, and another planet voting with them— especially one with the reputation that Mandalore had— could be very useful.  

Cody’s comm beeped with another message from Satine, and in reading it he blinked in surprise. Oh, he definitely would have to speed up the timeline if the conversation was going this well. 

Smiling, Cody began to respond. Suddenly, the day ahead of him looked very bright.

Conversation with Duchess Satine Kryze

Absolutely! I can send over a few 

representatives, if you’d like? 

That’s a generous offer. If you’re willing to, 

we’d be happy to accept. There is someone over 

here teaching Mando’a classes, but I'm assuming 

there’s been some drift on our side. 

You made the language your own. Take

pride in that, Alor Cody. From 

everything we’ve talked about, you

have done a fantastic job stepping up 

for your people. I’ll gather some 

doctors too, I know you mentioned the 

accelerated aging to Padmé and if 

there’s anything I can do to help, I

want to. We’re rebuilding on Mandalore 

too. This is the start of a strong 

alliance.

Agreed. Looking forward to working 

more with you.

He finally looked up, only to see Skedd’s gaze focused on him steadily. “I heard from Fives when the shift changed that you’re planning on opening up the position for president at the election.” 

Cody nodded in affirmation, typing out a question to Satine with half of his focus about what resources or contingent they could send to Mandalore in return, making a mental note to pull Rex into this conversation. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Skedd’s grip tighten around his datapad, and stopped typing immediately to look up in concern.

When he met Skedd’s gaze, the other clone’s eyes were sharp. “I don’t want to work for a president that isn’t you.”

Shocked into stillness, Cody blinked up at Skedd for a moment. “You might have to,” he said guilelessly. 

“No,” Skedd told him, conviction running down to his bones. “I won’t. If you’re not president, I’ll quit.” 

“That’s ridiculous. You know as well as I do that there are at least twenty other men who are at least as qualified as I am— perhaps more— for this position.” Cody could have listed them, Fox and Bly and Keller and Blackout each popping up in his mind without even a second invested into the thought. 

Sure, Cody was trying as best he could, and he believed that he was doing an adequate job, but that didn’t mean that he was the best man for the job. Cody knew, and knew well, that sometimes even if you tried your hardest, it wasn’t enough. And when that was the case, you were supposed to back out or let someone else lead. Cody didn’t have an ego. He didn’t want to “win” being president. He only wanted the best for his brothers, and if they thought that he was the best person for the job, then it would be no problem and he would win the election a second time. If he wasn’t, then the best person for the job would be in charge.

“And I can’t force anyone to choose me,” Cody continued, more gently this time. “Skedd, if I’m the best choice then they’ll choose me. If they want to have someone else try, then it’s everyone’s decision to make. It’s only fair.” 

Skedd looked like he wanted to disagree, but bit the feeling back until he only looked mildly upset instead of pissed off. “Fine,” he said. “But you can’t stop me from still being your assistant even if you change jobs.” 

Cody laughed. “Yes, Skedd,” he said fondly. “I can’t. But you’d be welcome to help me anywhere I went.”

Cody gripped onto the edge of the tight seat as Davijaan gave him the manic grin that had earned him the name Odd Ball, pushing the thrusters of the ARC-170 to make the ship break through Kranak’s heavy atmosphere. 

As the barrage of fire from the outside died down, the black seeped into the cockpit, the pinpricks of stars in the distance the only things providing light. Cody felt his face soften in wonder— he’d never been off of Kranak before this moment, and even the most realistic of simulations couldn’t compare to the sight in front of him. 

For the first time, Cody didn’t just see how small he was, he felt it. The universe was a vast place, interconnected and unpredictable and wild, and it had led him here, to this very moment. Being Kote of Kranak, Clone Commander 2224, president of his planet. 

He breathed in and felt. Let the feelings that came to him flow, and wondered if this was what the Jedi sought after: this feeling, this peace, this flow of the universe. Aware and yet sure of his place— small but mighty— within it. 

Davijaan flew them farther out, at first slowly, letting Cody, Bly and himself all take in the sight, but then gradually picking up speed as the ship called him to answer. It didn’t take long before he was swooping through space, twisting the nimble ship in maneuvers as if he were racing through an invisible battle in an asteroid field, and Cody’s breath caught one more at his brother’s skill and creativity. 

He wished that he could see them from the outside: their ship dancing against the backdrop of stars, joyous and light like the whoops of joy they began to let loose as Davijaan completed more and more technically challenging moves. 

Finally, after a tight corkscrew and a big curving loop, Davi slowed to a stop and looked over at Cody with a bright smile. “Aren’t you happy I convinced you to take a break that wasn’t sleeping now?”

Cody laughed, but before he could reply, Bly pushed his shoulder from the other side. 

“The convincing was at least fifty percent me,” Bly protested. “You can’t put together a good argument to save your life, Davi.”

Davijaan rolled his eyes, but then gestured out in front of himself. “Yeah yeah, well that’s part of the reason I’m leaving Command. No need to convince my di’kute vode to do things when I can just fly ships instead.” 

“Fair enough,” Cody agreed. He was glad to have somebody like Odd Ball, who was willing to fly like this for Cody and Bly for no other reason than to make them all happy. 

He enjoyed sitting in the presence of two people that he loved and that had worked as hard as he had to make their planet a better place. They all deserved a moment of peace, as much as Cody had been reluctant to leave in the middle of clearing out the suggestion box, which was a task that he actually enjoyed performing. Oh well, it would be there for him when he returned.

“We’ll keep doing things like this,” Davi said, his tone attempting to be confident but wavering a bit too much to achieve it. “Even though I’m not going to be doing Command anymore, yeah?”

Cody locked eyes with him. “Yes, of course.” 

“I need someone to help make sure Cody doesn’t work himself to death, eh vod? It takes two, and all that,” Bly offered warmly, elbowing Cody.

Davi huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Can’t have that.” 

“I, for one, am happy you’re out, by the way.” Bly said. “Odd Ball, you can kirffing fly‚ you would have been wasted drafting laws. You should be out here.” 

Davi ducked his head, though Cody could see the smile on his face still. 

“Thanks, Bly. Have you found anything like this for you? The way I love flying?” 

Cody had actually not considered that question for Bly yet, and mentally smacked himself for the oversight. Bly had been responsible for filling in the gaps and stepping in where he was needed, which had often found him at Cody’s side to help him walk through moments or gentle crises as they happened, providing a calm and stable sounding board for solutions. Bly had never seemed like he wasn’t content, but such an obvious indicator wouldn’t have been visible if Bly had wanted to hide his feelings, and Cody, with how busy he’d been, had taken what he’d seen at face value. 

Bly sighed and looked out of the viewscreen. “I’m not sure yet,” he confessed after a long moment. “There hasn’t been anything that’s called to me so heavily as it seems this flight has called to you— or even that has dragged me in so thoroughly as leading all of us has to Cody.”

Cody startled minutely in his seat, not expecting himself to be mentioned in a context like this, though he supposed that Bly was right. Leading had been thrust upon him, and as he’d said to Skedd just a few hours ago, he was trying his best to do right by his brothers. 

And it was fulfilling. It did satisfy Cody to know that they were pushing their way to messy freedom. He didn’t have enough time each rotation to contemplate it, but Cody was proud of the work he’d done. He wanted to keep doing it.

He wanted to keep doing it. Osik.

Something snarled in his chest, one hand tightening into a fist. They had an election coming up, and it was very possible that Cody would not win his reelection. 

What would he do with his time if he were no longer Kranak’s president?

After a moment of looking out into the black, Cody took a long blink, schooling his thoughts. He would find a different way to help— of course he would. But he didn’t quite feel like his work as president was done. 

Cody breathed. There wasn’t anything he could do about it now besides continue to lead as best he could. Then, if his brothers agreed that he deserved it, he’d be reelected on his own merit. 

All that thinking had only taken a second, after which Bly continued. “I want to contribute something, I just don’t quite know what it is yet. I liked helping the medics, but I don’t think I want to be a doctor. I have actually helped a few vode choose their names. Those moments, every single time, have been an honor. I love them. I want— I want more moments like that, full of connection and joy. Like those friendship bracelets Shaak Ti showed me.” 

“That’s a good goal to chase,” Cody said. He saw that for Bly— inspiring their brothers to be themselves and be happy— probably because Cody didn’t want to even imagine a future in which Bly himself was unhappy. 

“Yeah?” Bly asked, sounding pleased.

“Yeah, it does,” Davijaan agreed, but his tone was brisk. “And I hate to interrupt, but it looks like there’s a ship approaching. Are we expecting any visitors?” 

Cody and Bly both snapped to attention. 

“We are not,” Cody confirmed upon seeing the small ship out of the viewscreen, and then everything fell back to the routines that had been drilled into all three of them by 17. 

Cody hailed Kranak while Bly ran to man the tail gunner and Davijaan flicked switches confidently, moving power to their deflector shields and readying for evasive maneuvers as the ship drew closer. 

The vod who answered told Cody they’d have backup out as soon as they were able before Davi cursed. 

“The ship is hailing us,” he said urgently.

“Send that ship double time! Cody out,” he told the vod back on Kranak before disconnecting the signal. He gestured out toward the ship. “Let’s answer.” 

Davi nodded, connecting them before saying, “Cruiser, please identify yourself.” 

“This is Spar, Alpha-02,” a voice, familiar in the way that all clones’ voices were, rang out in the cockpit. Cody inhaled sharply at the name.

“Requesting to land on Kranak and speak with Alor… Kote. I have some guests onboard that I believe he should meet.” 

Cody blinked. Well, alright then. “This is Alor Cody speaking,” he said. “Request to land granted, Spar. We’ve been looking for you.” 

The ship that had blasted up into space ended up being hastily requisitioned as both ships’ escort back to Kranak, though entirely unneeded. Cody’s mind spun for only a few moments before he pulled himself together and came up with a plan, Bly and Davijaan assisting in the tiny amount of time they had, along with Skedd, who they’d called immediately. 

However, their plan had been blasted to smithereens as soon as Cody had stepped off the ARC-170 only to see Spar arm-in-arm with none other than 99 with a small but mighty entourage behind him, including a Mandalorian and a woman whom Cody did not recognize along with what looked like a cadet with hair much, much longer than regulation that Cody stared at for two seconds until it hit him.

Spar had brought back Prime’s son. Technically, the boy was also a clone, only he hadn’t received the same age-accelerating gene that the rest of them had; the same gene that Cody had a whole team of doctors currently scratching their heads trying to figure out how to reverse. 

Any foreboding that had been left in his stomach turned into anticipation. Cody knew this was going to be a very interesting meeting he was about to have. 

Skedd was waiting at the bay room doors, and only needed to exchange one glance with Cody for him to know the other was thinking something along the lines of You only had to be gone for one hour before chaos broke out; why am I not surprised? 

Upon request, Skedd had brought all of Command he could assemble on short notice, which included Keller, Rex, Backout, and Fox. They all stood beside Skedd, waiting for Cody’s group and Spar’s to approach. 

“Su'cuy'gar, Spar!” Cody called as he walked down the ramp of his ship. 

What looked like an amused smile flicked across Spar’s face. “Alor Cody, I presume,” he called back, and when the two of them met, they clasped forearms.

“You know 99,” Spar said, and 99 waved and winked while Cody grinned widely at him. 

“This is Boba, Prime’s kid. And behind me are Mij Gilamar and Ovolot Quail Uthan. They’re both doctors, and I’m happy to say that they’ve found a solution to your little accelerated aging problem I heard you’ve been trying to solve.” 

Cody almost laughed, overcome with relief. He looked over at the two doctors and locked eyes with each of them, nodding seriously. “Thank you for coming to share your knowledge with us,” he said. “Would all of you like to rest or eat any food?” 

99 and Boba begged off for resting, Spar asked to eat some food, and the doctors asked to be taken to the labs immediately, so each group split up to take everyone to where they needed to go. 

Spar told Cody, Keller, Fox and Skedd of his journey over a meal in the mess; all of them digging into hot bowls of shellfish chowder, which one of the Jedi had shared the recipe for. And Spar really did have a tale to tell.

Mij Gilamar had apparently been one of the trainers and medics of the Alpha-class clones, and he’d befriended Spar during training. As a favor to Mij, who’d been friends with Prime, Spar had been smuggled off then-Kamino with the last-minute edition of 99, on one of Prime’s visits to the planet on Prime’s very own ship. 

Spar and 99 had parted ways with Prime soon after, and the two of them travelled the galaxy together. Spar had also discovered that he had all of Prime’s memories, which 99 had helped him sort through and deal with. 

“I felt like I was losing my mind,” Spar confessed. “I had so much in my head— Prime was a bounty hunter; we all know that. But having the memories of all the jobs he’d done was a different thing altogether. I knew how to do things in my mind that my body had never attempted, and when I tried to do them I failed miserably. 99 was my voice of reason— and my medic. Without him, I would have died many times over.” 

Spar and 99 always kept a close eye on Mandalore and Kamino, he continued. So, when he’d heard about a big battle on Geonosis with an army of identical men in Mandalorian-style armor, he’d tried to get back in contact with Mij Gilamar and failed. Then he’d tried Prime and failed. So, Spar had gone to seek out Kal Skirata. 

“Who’s that?” Keller asked. 

Spar laughed. “Have you talked to none of the Alphas about their trainers? Kal was the best of the best. He trained the Nulls.” 

Cody blinked. “The Nulls?” 

“Yeah, the Null-class clones,” Spar said. “Ordo and Mereel? Kom'rk? A’den? …You don’t know who I’m talking about, do you?” 

All of them shook their heads. So, Spar’d explained that the Null-class clones had been the very first batch of viable clones made by the Kaminoans. Only six had survived, and they had been deemed unusable by the Kaminoans. They all were to be decommissioned, but trainer Kal Skirata had saved them and taken them all under his wing, making them fiercely loyal to Kal. 

“Val cuye adenn shabla,” Spar said. “Capable, competent— the best warriors I’ve ever seen— but absolutely kriffing crazy. For reference, they think you’re cute.” He pointed at Cody.

Fox made a choking noise that sounded like a laugh, while Skedd didn’t even try to hide it, bursting out into furious giggles stifled behind his hand. Cody elbowed him and sighed, but Spar had illustrated his point well. 

“I think I need to meet these guys,” Keller said.

Spar gave him an assessing look as if he was considering the idea before making a so-so motion with his head and moving on, continuing his tale as Cody made a mental note to ask 17 about Kal Skirata and the Nulls, wondering if they had been some of the source of his illicit knowledge of Mando’a and the novels that Cody and his batchmates had hoarded so preciously. 

“We’ll see. But anyhow: Geonosis. The galaxy knew about us clones, and I knew I was running out of time. You see, 99 hasn’t been in great shape for a while. Did you know that his condition was caused by a malfunction in our accelerated aging gene? But it was getting worse, and I needed to find somebody who would help me fix it.” The look of pain and worry on his face tugged at Cody’s intrinsic need to be the one to find a solution, though genetics and biology were not his areas of expertise. 99 had been a staple of his time as a cadet, and though Cody had seen 99 walking down the gangplank just fine not too long ago, it still prickled. 

“That’s why you wanted to talk to Mij, right? He was your doctor,” Fox guessed.

“Exactly. And since Kamino wasn’t as much of a secret anymore with the vode emerging, I figured I’d be able to reach him, but his comm was out of service. And so was Prime’s. And then I learned that Prime was dead after asking around to a few of my contacts and I realized that we had another problem as well: Prime’s son.” 

Cody saw how this all came together, and was gratified to hear the rest of the story fall into place— Spar had found Kal, a small group of Nulls had been dispatched to find Boba Fett, and the rest of them helped to track down Mij Gilamar, who had gone back to Mandalore, grousing about Duchess Satine Kryze and her policies all the while. He had only been too happy to leave again to help Spar and 99 figure out a solution, but he wasn’t a geneticist either.

“But you should have seen Kal,” Spar said, smirking just a little. “When Mij told us he didn’t know enough about our genetics to help, he got real scary, saying how it was a liability for all the Nulls not to know how their genetics worked either when the Kaminoans had almost decommissioned them for the crime of being too good at their jobs, and that’s when he went to call all his shadiest contacts for help. Which is how we found Dr. Uthan.” 

Cody thought that sounded a little bit ominous, and waited to hear the explanation behind the sentence as Spar ate the last few bites of his meal.

“She was in the early stages of working on a clone-killing nanovirus. So they kidnapped her, threatened her, and got her working for us instead And, just between us clones, she changed her mind real quick-like and I didn’t think it was the intimidation factor. In my opinion, she’s about two rotations away from hopping into bed with Mij.” 

Unable to stop himself, Cody looked over at Skedd to find his batchmate already looking back at him, giving him a significant look that showed they were both thinking the same thing. This sounded way too much like one of the plots of the Mandalorian princess novels for comfort, and Cody had to look away and stifle a laugh. 

“So she definitely won’t try to kill us with a virus,” Keller asked warily, which Cody couldn’t blame him for in the slightest, considering he’d been thinking of that as well.

“Correct,” Spar confirmed. “And she and Mij are getting close to a solution for 99. They’ve got some stopgap measure that’s been helping, but it apparently wears off after a while and doesn’t reverse the accelerated aging completely as of yet. Or something, whenever they start talking about medicine they start flirting, so I stop listening after the first five minutes.” 

Not quite sure what to make of that, Cody focused on his objectives. “Well, that’s more than we’ve got, so we’re grateful for anything they can give us.” 

Spar nodded and then he gestured with one hand, his face lifting. “Oh, and about Boba Fett, he was hanging out with some sketchy bounty hunters, and that’s verbatim from A’den so you know it’s true. So, we picked him up and brought him here. And that, finally, should be everything.”

“Oh, that’s all?” Fox asked dryly. It had taken Spar almost two hours to get through his entire story, and they all were getting pretty tired. 

Instead of answering, Spar just drank the cup of water in front of him, chugging the rest of the contents and sighing in content. 

“Thank you,” Cody said, “for coming back and doing all of this for us.”

Spar shrugged. “It’s not all selfless. And the Nulls themselves didn’t want to come, nothing against you, but they didn’t really want to get dragged into being involved. They did tell me to let you know they like that you’ve done with the place and to keep it up. The renaming— Kranak— that was a nice touch.”

A small spark of pride lit up in Cody’s chest. “I do intend to keep it up,” he said firmly. “Now, we should probably all rest.” 

Cody had a very busy next few rotations. When he’d said he was going to get sick of meetings? Well, now he was. He wondered how any actual work was going to get done if all he did was tell people things, but that was a problem for another time. 

First, they’d had to have another Command meeting, which Cody realized they would have to begin calling Government meetings instead, to talk about the Null-class clones. He’d invited Spar to tell his story again, and had Sull and 17 there from the Alphas for reference. They’d then issued a post on the intranet, drafted by Fives, detailing the story to everyone else. 

He’d also met with Coric to get an update on the gene therapy aspect of things, which he noted there had been progress using one of the initial methods his team had come up with combined with Dr. Uthan’s genetic research and sequencing, but they still needed to test before they could implement it.

Then, he’d met with Rex, Fox, and Blackout to discuss political strategy ahead of Rex’s incoming senator meetings and to get a better idea of what their stance would be on a few issues. After, he’d sat in on Rex’s senator meetings, including one big meeting with Senators Padmé Amidala, Onaconda Farr, and Mon Mothma along with Chancellor Bail Organa, in which they discussed how the group would implement aspects of the strategy that Cody and his team had come up with as well as how they could help slot into existing plans. Cody had come out of the meeting blinking away visions of Padmé Amidala with a hammer striking away human-first bills and firing back with anti-slavery, genetic privacy, and spice regulation laws with a final blow of cloning and property law revisions. It had been a very impassioned and productive meeting. 

He and Rex had also met with Duchess Satine Kryze, who had begun talks with them of a more formal trade agreement between their two worlds and confirmed the cultural exchange. They also spoke about the legacy of being Mandalorian meant to each of them, and Cody found her perspective on pacifism genuinely interesting even if he did not fully agree with it. As two rebuilding worlds, he felt that they had a lot to offer each other and found himself pleased that she agreed. He was more hopeful than ever that, eventually, the combined forces of all her contacts would be able to convince the duchess to rejoin the Republic too.

He finally found time to talk to Obi-Wan Kenobi as well, who he hadn’t realized was such a good conversational partner until they found themselves speaking again. Kenobi gave an update on what was happening over on the Jedi’s side of things and chatted to him about teaching children for a bit before he passed the comm over to Neyo, who gave him an update on how the clones still left on Coruscant were faring. The men were all preparing to come home, and would leave as soon as they’d finished packing up, likely just in time for the upcoming vote.  

He’d also run around having check-ins with those still in Command just to make sure nobody else wanted to leave their position to find something else, finally getting Doom and Appo both to admit they wanted to explore their options. Their positions were added to the ballot and broadcast over the intranet for anyone to apply to, as well as a few more positions that he realized were necessary due to another Government meeting combined with a few pointed suggestion box asks. 

He didn’t even have time to get pulled away by any of his brothers looking to take a break, solely letting Skedd be the one to shove him in a pod and food into his hands when needed but working hard every moment otherwise. 

So, after another meeting in which he’d discussed building a large communications tower to help with the stability and clarity of extra-world communications, allowing a larger amount of men to be able to communicate with those off world, Cody felt tired down to his bones and about ready to send himself down to the Alphas’ underwater prison for some peace. There were only so many hours that he could spend talking to people about complex subjects, and he’d spent them all. 

Thankfully, Skedd had duties to perform elsewhere, and Fives was much easier to give the slip than his batchmate. Cody found himself in no time at all slinking down the familiar route to the tiny little window down by the decanting rooms, one of his favorite places to think. The view of the ocean had always been spectacular here, and it was almost always deserted. 

Cody looked out the small port to the crashing waves below and let his shoulders loosen from the rigid form he’d been holding them in. As he stood, he allowed himself the opportunity not to worry, not to think so hard, not to have to try and solve every issue he came across and those he thought might become issues preemptively.

His eyes became lost in the waves— there was no rain today to follow down the window. He wasn’t sure how long it was before Cody was called back to the waking world by the sounds of voices, distant but drawing closer. He didn’t mean to listen in, but whoever was approaching spoke loudly enough for him to hear.

“—many things to appreciate about Kranak.” 

Cody furrowed his eyebrows. That was definitely the voice of one of his brothers, but he couldn’t quite place who.

“No there isn’t! This place is a prison!”

Now there was a voice that Cody recognized: Boba Fett. 

Cody never really knew what to make of Prime’s kid. He looked like a cadet, except he wasn’t and never had been. Cody had seen him a few times, before. He’d always gotten tripped up on the non-regulation clothes and hair mixed up with the boy’s fierce scowl— they all made Cody want to cuff him ‘round the head and tell him to straighten himself out before he got written up. 

But he wasn’t one of them. He was Prime’s kid. Cody remembered the crush of jealousy, the aching of bruised fists, the stiffness in his paces as he used to walk past. It hadn’t been fair that Boba Fett had been the lucky one out of the millions and millions of them produced. To be the singular individual to have been made free and without restrictions or modifications. But Boba would never know or truly appreciate it, Cody recalled thinking. He’d just be off living his life while the rest of them fought in a war. 

Except now that was not the case. There was no longer any war being fought, and instead of living the life he was supposed to have with his father, Boba Fett had been returned to the place he’d been made with the beings that, now, were closer to being just like him than ever before. 

With all the perspective Cody had gained, he wasn’t mad or jealous any longer. In fact, he was kind of sad for the kid. But, he was glad that the Nulls had brought him back to heel and thrown him at Kranak’s feet. There was a lot he believed this place and Boba Fett could do for each other. 

“Kranak is not a prison— not any longer, at least.” The clone said calmly, more so than Cody likely could have accomplished. “You can see—”

“Yes it is, and it sucks! I just wanted revenge for my father’s death and Aurra said she was going to help me! But then all those ge’hutuune clones came and forced me to come back here and that doctor lady took my blood and– and– and I just want my dad back!”

Mortified, Cody moved to hide himself in the small blocked-off corner as Boba began to cry, his progress in the corridor coming to a halt. Cody did not know how to deal with crying, and especially not crying children; he only hoped that the clone with Boba did. 

Cody squeezed his eyes shut, an uncomfortable churning feeling taking residence inside of him as he listened to the snuffling sounds of Boba crying, small shushing noises accompanying each one. When Cody risked a peek around the corner, he saw Boba pressed into 99’s middle. It made sense, actually, because 99 and Boba had travelled to Kranak on the same ship and had likely gotten to know each other on the flight over.

Thankfully, it didn’t take very long for Boba to calm down, and the sniffling ceased. 

“Boba,” began 99, firm but not unkind. “Listen to me. I know you want your father back, but he is dead. We cannot change it.”

Boba made a snarling noise that caught Cody off guard. “Maybe. But I can get revenge! I can show that Jedi just how much it hurts!”

“But would that make you feel any better?” 99 asked. “It very well may not. Also, the Jedi saved this place. There are Jedi from all different sects here helping us build and renew. So I don’t think that idea would go over very well.” 

For a moment, Cody considered jumping in with a few extra points, like the fact that he has met several Jedi personally and it would probably take more than one bounty hunter to take a Jedi down unless they were armed to the teeth with beskar and they were the best of the best. However, if he stepped out now, Boba would likely not take the intrusion well, based on how vulnerable he was being and that he didn’t know Cody practically at all. So, torturously, Cody stayed tucked away out of sight, helpless to do anything but listen.

“I hate you!” Boba screamed.

Good thing Cody had decided against joining in.

But all 99 did was tut in response. “I don’t think that you do,” he said mildly. 

“I do! You’re just another one of them, the clones! You don’t care about me! And you don’t know me, you don’t know what I want!” 

“Child.” His tone was warm and bright. The sound of it, so gentle, made Cody feel like was sitting in front of a fire with a warm drink in hand— part of a simulated low-tech mission Cody had run through with 17. 99 continued in that same tone, asking, “What have I done ever since the two of us met?”

The hallway was quiet for a moment, and Cody ensured that his breathing was regulated and quiet so as not to disturb the peace or cause them to detect his presence. After a few beats had passed, Cody strained his ears, now invested and not wanting to miss anything that Boba said.

“You’ve been nice, I guess.” 

The steps, which for a while had stopped, began up again. Cody pressed further into his corner and hoped with all his might that when they passed him they would not look back. 

“Yes, I have ‘been nice.’” Cody could hear the emphasis 99 placed on the words parroted back to the boy. “Because I believe that we choose our family, and I have decided to choose you.”

There was a sharp inhalation of breath. “Why?”

The footsteps got closer and closer, and Cody held his breath, falling into stillness like one might into sleep: quietly and with no effort at all. He could hold his position for as long as he needed. And he could listen.

“Because I see a bright young boy who has had to handle too much. Because I believe in you. Because you deserve someone who chooses you, who sees you, who will love you. The way I already do.” 

Stillness had never been so hard to maintain; Cody’s breath barely kept in its steady, soundless rhythm and eyes furiously blinking. He knew that feeling, deep in his core. That longing, that need to uplift and believe in somebody who didn’t believe in themself. That love, strong and motivating.

99 and Boba passed by Cody’s corner and he watched their backs, one with small, strong shoulders and the other already hunched over, twisted and gnarled. Another emotion pooled in his chest that he did not recognize until 99 looked up and back at just the right angle to see Cody. 

He froze in place. 99 blinked for a moment, startled, but then smiled kindly and dipped his head to Cody. 

The sign of respect left Cody floundering, causing him to bow his head back at 99 before mouthing “I’m sorry.” 

99 only shook his head before looking back down to Boba and stroking his hair as the boy began to sniffle again. 

99 handed him a tissue, and then spoke again. “I’m sorry your father is gone. But you have a choice now: you can embrace what life is trying to give you, or you can turn it all away and chase down a revenge you may never get. What sounds better?”

“I— I…” Boba tilted his head up, a beseeching expression on his face. 

But 99 did not give in. “Boba.”

Cody watched the boy’s face form that scowl he knew so well from before. “I don’t want to give up.” 

“This is not giving up,” 99 told the boy as they continued to walk slowly. “You must simply know when to pick your battles. You must make what is the best choice for yourself. Do not let hate rot your heart out.” 

Do not let hate rot your heart out. Cody would have to remember that one.

“Okay,” Boba said, sounding a little put out. They were getting far enough down the corridor that it was starting to get harder to hear them. 

99 prompted Boba for more. “Okay what?”

“I’ll stick around. I guess.” 

“Good. Now, come along with me and I can show you one of my favorite spots…” 

Cody blew out a long breath, relieved that the two of them had finally moved on, but feeling somewhat conflicted about his own upbringing. Cody had been too busy to have time to think very much about it, but it was glaringly apparent to him how much being prepared for war left him ill-prepared for many other aspects of life and large gaps in his understanding of the galaxy and, furthermore, himself. Looking at his brothers’ faces, hearing their stories, reading their posts on the intranet and submissions to the suggestion box showed how many of them were struggling with this transition— and Cody didn’t blame them.

Boba’s predicament, in a way, was similar. A big loss, a huge gain. Anger warring with the desire to move on. The weight of legacy and history. Revenge and rejecting revenge. Choosing, for the first time, what to make of life. 

And Cody couldn’t help himself. He pulled out his personal comm, wrote all of his feelings out, and sent them unedited to 17. He didn’t expect an answer— didn’t even really want one— but he just felt that 17 would understand, somehow. And then, when he had finished, Cody moved along to where he was needed next. 

It wasn’t long until Cody had begun to solidify commerce agreements with other worlds after a crash course/several hour long comm call with Padmé Amidala on the history of the Free Trade Zones, the Invasion of Naboo, the Trade Federation, taxation, pirating, and protection. Quite frankly, the whole thing gave Cody a headache and had him drafting up an announcement that a head of commerce would be added to the ballot for their ever-nearing election.

Cody still felt a little nervous about that— he was knee-deep in a number of initiatives he felt passionate about and now more than ever did not want to have to transition out of his role or give it up. He needed all the help he could get, of course, but felt the calling of leadership only grow stronger as time continued to pass. This was his kote — making this whole transition the best he could to build them a kot’majyce they could be proud of. 

They also welcomed back all of their brothers who had been on Coruscant— where they’d been for much too long in Cody’s opinion— and all of them had been eager to jump into life on Kranak, flooding the intranet with stories and pictures they called “memes” after their time learning about Republic HoloNet culture. 

Cody, Rex, Ponds, Neyo, and Fox had all sat down to eat together to catch up, which had given a much-needed moment of respite in all of their busy schedules, and Cody had been pleased to learn that they all were well.

The Jedi Plo Koon had also returned with the envoy, which had been a pleasant surprise. After everything, Cody had come to appreciate the various Jedi representatives who had stayed and worked so hard to help build Kranak into the place it was becoming, and the added hands and strategic mind were only going to be an asset along with the kindness that Cody recalled radiating off of the Kel Dor. 

It was increasingly hard to keep track of all the initiatives continually being started up, but with Skedd and his entourage behind him, Cody did his best to stay up-to-date. One particular interest that he made sure to stay on top of was the gene therapy project, which he had Skedd relay him updates from Coric’s office whenever they came through. Currently, Cody sat nodding through the latest missive on their progress, which reported a start to testing on samples in the labs since they had been able to isolate the specific genetic sequences they’d needed to delete to normalize the clones’ accelerated growth and aging to the previous human-standard rate that Jango Fett possessed. Doing so would extend their lifetimes by decades, which Cody was extremely relieved to hear. 

After finishing the update, Skedd tiredly flicked to the next message before blinking rapidly and sitting up, making Cody snap to attention at his desk. 

“What is it, Skedd?”

He grimaced, then handed over his datapad. “Looks like this was meant to be a personal note but got sent to the incorrect inbox. My apologies. I only read the first few lines before I realized…” 

Cody looked down at the datapad and began to read as Skedd trailed off.

Kote – 

Thank you for your note. This return message is not in direct reply, but still consider it a reaction to and branch off of the feelings and questions you raised. 

I also know you are busy and did not want to take up your time unnecessarily by replying with an in-person meeting, so no response is required. 

I met with Spar, who told me that while my job training the ARC Command clones was admirable, my passage of our history was not. After contemplation on that conversation and your note, I confess that I agree with his assessment. I regret that I did not have more Mando’a to teach you, more frivolous books to offer, more softness to give that would ease your way. I thought you were going to war. I wanted to prepare you so that you lived. I am happy now that the skills I taught you won’t be necessary for many to utilize. Regardless, I know things have never been easy for you. You shoulder the mantle for us, your people, with courage and glory. I will keep my eye trained on whatever you do next— not for judgement, but in pride. Continue, and be strong. I know our future is bright, and you are its impetus. As such, I have named myself Verco to always remind myself of the fire you have lit within us, so I may carry it with me always. 

– A-017, named Verco 

He looked back up at Skedd, bewildered and a bit overwhelmed, and pushed the datapad over gesturing for Skedd to read it. 

This had been such an unexpected response from his old trainer, who Cody had always seen as so tightly in control of himself that Cody felt wild with its implications. Of course— he’d known that 17 would understand his jumbled thoughts surrounding Boba Fett, legacy, war, cruelty, and regret, but he had no idea his words would inspire such a change.

Verco— hope. No ruusaaray indeed; this choice underscored the impact of the changes Kranak and Cody were making daily to strive for better. 

Skedd looked up at him once he’d finished reading, and his eyes were blazing. “This is why you’re our president. Kote, you are our alor. My alor.”

Unable to contain the rush, Cody confessed, “I am. I want to be.” 

Skedd smiled at him, all teeth. “You’ll keep it. Just you wait.” 

Cody only sniffed before gesturing lamely. “Let’s look at the next note.” 

After a knowing glance, Skedd proceeded to comply, detailing from 99 that Boba had joined a class of cadets the same age as him and was starting to make friends. His integration had presented a few issues, but 99 had gotten Waxer and Boil on rotation to spend some time with him, which had been doing the kid some good. Then, a quick building update was shared before the time came for Cody to meet with Rex.

With the election looming over their shoulders, Cody knew that Rex’s departure date for Coruscant rode on its shoulders. He still wasn’t ready to say goodbye and put that much distance between the two of them, but he knew it was inevitable and would be for the good of Kranak.

As he usually did, Rex slammed the door to Cody’s office open with irreverence at his appointed time. Cody noted that his light hair was longer than he’d ever seen it before, and thought the change suited his brother, especially paired with the smile that lit up his face. 

“I just came off a call with Senator Farr, the one from Rodia? And he was telling me about how glad he is that we’ve all stopped the war and he couldn’t believe Palpatine was some murderous bad Sith or whatever, but he was so happy to work alongside a planet determined to uphold democracy. And I went ‘Yep, that’s us! Peace and democracy!’ and I thought I was being all funny until I realized that no, actually; we are all peace and democracy now. Identity crisis who?” 

Cody laughed. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Neyo and Ponds, you’re starting to sound like a walking HoloNet meme.” 

“Yeah, well I have to be professional during all these Senate meetings, don’t I? That just means that I need more time outside of that to be a little less serious, and the HoloNet culture stuff is entertaining.” 

Cody, who had been on the receiving end of Fives injecting new phrases into their lexicon in his office at lightning speed, knew quite well how entertaining it all could be. “Yeah, I get it. Now talk to me about the rest of the senators. Everything still going well?”

“Yes, everything is fine. I’ve been strategizing with the other senators on the best ways to get our bills to pass in the Senate, and they are giving me the breakdown of who we’ll be able to win over versus who’s a lost cause. They keep asking me when I’m coming to Coruscant, actually. And I know we have the election coming up, which I want to be here for, but…”

There was the sinking in Cody’s chest again. “Yeah. I know. You should try and get over there pretty much right after that.” 

Rex looked at Cody for a moment, his gaze assessing. With all the practice he’d had at schooling his features, Cody knew that his face read blank— but he also knew that the lack of expression in and of itself also said something very loud and telling. 

After a moment, Rex looked away, blinking fast. “You know,” he said, “I don’t really want to leave either.” 

“What?” He’d thought that Rex was looking forward to it, with how fast he’d delved into his new role.

“Yeah,” Rex laughed, though it wasn’t one filled with humor. “I want to be out there doing good, but it’s going to be really hard leaving everyone behind again.”

Cody wanted to offer to go with Rex to support him and be there with him through this new, big step, but he knew that things on Kranak needed to stabilize before he could make such an offer. “You’re not going to go by yourself, though,” he reminded Rex. The other senators had been quick to let them know that Rex would need aides and helpers and other representatives for when he was busy, even if he was going to serve as the primary representative for Kranak on Coruscant. 

“I know, but…” Rex shrugged, refusing to meet Cody’s eyes.

“What?” Cody prodded. 

“They’re not you,” he blurted, and then buried his face in his hands and groaned. “Ugh, don’t say anything! I don’t want to hear it!” 

Cody got up from his chair and rounded his desk to sit next to Rex before knocking their shoulders together. “But I understand,” he told Rex. “You and I… we’re different. There are things that you and I have experienced that nobody else gets. And also, we’ve been through so much together, I just got you back from Coruscant… I don’t really want you to go either.” 

Rex peeked one eye out from in between his hands. “But I volunteered for this,” he said. “I shouldn’t be complaining about it. And I know I’m going to do good work, I’m going to be happy to be there. It’s not like I’m all sad. But I still—” 

“Yeah,” Cody reassured. He didn’t need Rex to work himself up any further. “I feel that way about being president sometimes.” 

“Oh kriff you, you do not,” Rex protested, sitting up and punching him in the arm. 

“Ow!” Cody protested, though the punch hadn’t even hurt that much. “Osik’ika! Kriff you very much, but being president is hard! Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t change it and if I don’t get reelected I will never recover, but it’s not easy.” 

“Such is the burden of responsibility, I guess,” Rex huffed, and threw himself back in his seat dramatically. 

“Speaking of,” Cody said, switching his tone and grabbing a datapad off his desk to swipe through it. “You have to read this note that 17 sent me— did you know he changed his name? I still haven’t responded, I don’t even know what to say, but here, just look.” 

Rex practically snatched the datapad out of his hands, eyes roving over the aurebesh in front of him. “17 sent this?” He said once he’d finished, eyebrows high on his forehead.

“Verco, now,” Cody reminded him. “But yes.” 

Rex looked down at the datapad again before flicking his eyes back to Cody. “Huh,” he said. “Well I just had to make sure we were talking about the same vod, because I didn’t think he’d ever say something like this. I mean, you know how he was with us.” 

Cody’s mouth quirked in recognition. “You mean, a hardass?” 

“Yeah, that. But this letter…” he trailed off and let out a low whistle. “He’s really taken up the mantle of his new name. You’re such an inspiration to us all, Cody.” The last sentence was somewhat mocking in tone, but was undercut by the sincerity in Rex’s eyes. 

The days leading up to the election passed in a blur. Cody did his best to stay busy and keep his mind off of it, staying out of the proceedings as much as he could and leaving it to Blackout and his team to get it set up similarly to last time. He didn’t even have time to check the intranet like he’d been trying to before, only gaining any news as it came to his desk or during the announcements that Wave called out. 

The morning before the election, nerves coiled around his hands against his will, and instead of getting anything done, Cody found himself taking an hour to slip away to his window again, wanting to be alone. 

When he came back, Cody felt ready as he could be, and found himself writing on his datapad, holed up in a corner of the mess with a meal in front of him and a cup of hot, bitter caf serving as inspiration. 

His fingers flashed over the surface, typing away until there was a clunk at the table across from him. Cody didn’t look up until he’d finished the sentence he was writing, only to see a pensive Fox in front of him. 

“I’m running for vice president,” he said, apropos of nothing. 

Cody looked side to side before quirking an eyebrow and tilting his head. “Good for you?” 

Fox scowled. “I’m not running against you for president, mir'sheb. I want to work with you, instead; I think we’ll be better as a team.” 

“You don’t know—” Cody started to say, but Fox cut him off.

“You’re going to get reelected. Have you not been on the intranet at all in the last six rotations?”

“Obviously not, since I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Cody took a sip of caf to hide his eye roll. 

Fox reached over, swiping his datapad off the table and flicked through it to the intranet before reading out, “Post by Lever. When Cody met me, he asked me my name, shook my hand, and looked me in the eye. It was the first time I’d ever felt seen. Cody knows us, works for us, never gives up on us. Vote for Cody! Post by Kord. Alor Cody was the one who got me started on music. Without him, I never would have met Sevvie and started writing songs and working with Nut, Bolt and Lefty. He is OUR leader! Vote for Cody! Post by Gree. When I wanted out of Command, Cody didn’t even think about making me stay. He gave us the choice to be who WE wanted to be, not who we were forced to be— and that’s why he has my vote. Post by 8357. I’m voting for Cody today, and I better not see any of you chakaare disagreeing with me! Post by Fordo. Kote shows up to every single one of my Mando’a classes. He forwards me resources to help plan my classes from Duchess Satine Kryze, who I assume he asked personally to help, and he did so without asking me or telling me who they were from until I pressed for answers. This is a man who has already brought us kote. Vote for him again—”

Cody couldn’t listen to any more of this, his ears burning hot as he asked, “Why?” 

Fox shook his head incredulously. “Everyone except you has been trying to campaign for themselves practically ever since the election was called. Eventually, somebody noticed that you never tried to convince everyone to reelect you, and made a post about it. After that, different vode started doing your campaigning for you, and it’s only gotten more intense as we’ve gotten closer to the election. You’re gonna get it, vod.” 

Cody wanted to ask more questions, because who had started all that up, anyhow? However, they were interrupted by Fives sidling up to the table with an impatient look on his face. 

“Stop giving me the slip! We need you for election prep, Blackout’s team is freaking out and you being there is the only thing that’s going to make them stop since Blackout’s been up for like two rotations with no sleep and nobody figured it out until right now.” 

Cody began to apologize to Fox, already rising out of his seat, but Fox waved him off, handing back his datapad in the process. 

“All good, alor my alor. Do your job and I’ll see you on the other side.” 

When Wave made the announcement that the polls were open in the same manner that they’d done it the first time, through each vod’s personal datapad, and that it would stay open for access for a full rotation from the moment that the announcement would end, Cody waited patiently before taking out his datapad to open up the ballot survey for himself.

Only, when he came across the first heading— the opening for president, of course— he stopped as if he'd been hit with a stun blaster. His name was the only name on the line. The two options were for Cody or to abstain. 

He didn’t even think they had a policy for what this meant or what limit they’d need to hit to swear him back into office. Breathless, Cody laughed, at first quietly but then louder and louder until he was overcome with the force of it, only calming down after the feeling had brought tears to his eyes. 

He abandoned his datapad and took to the hallways, brushing past Fives in an instant and making his way to where Wave made all of his announcements. When he got there, Wave was still packing up, and the man looked surprised to see Cody there in front of him, breath heaving since he’d, at some point, broken into a run. 

“Sir?” He asked. 

“I need to make an announcement,” Cody said. “Can I?” 

Wave looked at him like he was crazy. “As if I would say no,” he muttered under his breath, and started flicking switches and plugging things back in. After a minute or so, he handed the microphone back to Cody and nodded, signifying that he was good to go. 

Cody had written some things this morning on his datapad. He hadn’t known it, but those scrappy sentences were going to be the basis of the speech he was about to make, right now. He let the feelings well up inside of him, and then he began to speak. “This is President Cody. I can’t believe that you sheb'urcyine campaigned for me. I can’t believe that you believe in me so much. I can’t possibly be as good as you all think I am.” He took a deep breath, shaky and loud enough to be heard, loud enough to be broadcast to every hearing ear in their facility. “But I will try. I will wake up every rotation and be a force for good, for change, for kote. Because there is a place for us in this galaxy. We are carving it out and defining it for ourselves, and I will do my best to give you the tools to find your niche and make this place your home, the way it should have been from the start. We were meant to have a legacy of death. But now we have haar kot’majyce oyacyi. And I will continue to live my life for you. For all of us. With shereshoy and for the glory of Kranak. Vor entye. Ori'vor'e bal draar ven digu. Oya!”

He handed the microphone back to Wave, who took it and looked almost awestruck as he flicked a switch to turn the microphone off. 

“Thank you, Wave,” Cody told him, and then before he could say anything else, Skedd came bursting through the door, a smile so wide on his face that it almost looked out-of-place. He opened his arms wide to Cody, as if in pride, and opened his mouth to, presumably, congratulate him— but Cody spoke first. 

“Skedd, what did you do.” 

Immediately, Skedd dropped his arms. “And how come you think I did anything?”

Cody gave him a flat look. “I know you did something. Did you rig the election for me? If you did, we’re going to have to redo it, you know that.”

“Yes, which is why I did not rig the election for you. I just talked to some people and noticed that you weren’t even trying to campaign for yourself and made a post on the intranet about it. What everyone else did with it isn’t my fault. It’s not like I convinced Fox to take his name out of the running, that was all him after he started seeing the flood of posts. I just told him that he was making the right choice when he let me know, that’s all.”

Cody couldn’t help himself, after that, and launched himself at Skedd, engulfing his vod in a hug. “You mir'osik, osik’ika, kriffing meddling bastard. Gar cuyi ori’mir so I can’t even be mad—!” 

Skedd laughed. “I told you, Cody!” 

Cody put him in a headlock and scrubbed his fist over Skedd’s hair. “I’ll never doubt you again, oh master of the schedule.”

When the results were confirmed, Wave’s voice reading out the electees in a shaking but passionate voice, Cody had been reelected president of Kranak by 98% of votes. 

Piled under a horde of his brothers patting his back, his head, his arms and anything they could reach, Cody cried in relief, with joy, and with love. He was where he was meant to be.

Several hours later in the mess, Kord’s band was playing while everyone celebrated, tables pushed aside for dancing and a festive mood alight in the air. Neyo had stood on one of the tables and announced that he’d smuggled back to Kranak from Coruscant a huge shipment of Corellian whiskey, which he’d refused to elaborate on how exactly he’d managed to secure. 

Not that Cody cared, however, since a cup of the drink had been shoved into his hands. He found that, though the taste wasn’t very pleasant, that its effects were, and everybody he ran into wanted to shove more into his hands until Cody had felt the room start to spin. 

He ended up sitting down near Bly, who was giggling furiously with Monnk and Gree while an exasperated Wolffe kept repeating to them to, “Shut up. Shut up! Literally stop, you’re such cadets.” 

“What’s funny?” Cody asked, slumping back against the cool wall, which felt amazing against his heated skin. 

“You! You’re Kote! King Kote! Because you’re awesomeeeee,” Monnk said, making Bly and Gree start to laugh again. 

“King— Monnk what?” Cody said, confused. “I’m not a king, we live in a democracy. You guys voted for me.” 

“Yeah, but the alliteration,” Gree protested. 

“And nobody ran against you, like it was your divine right or whatever,” Bly added. 

Wolffe snorted. “You guys are kriffing blasted.”

Cody just laughed again with them; Wolffe’s snort was really funny. He felt so happy, so ready, so joyful. There was that tune playing, the one that he’d heard in his office, the traditional Mandalorian one that he’d sent to Verco and Skedd. Cody closed his eyes and let it wash over him, taking it in, letting the atmosphere of this moment sink into his bones. 

He knew that Rex would be leaving soon, that Fives had been part of the group nominated to go with him, that Verco and Sharpe and Ruaza the painter had been selected as part of the group to take part in the Mandalorian cultural exchange. He knew that, though the scientists were making their headway and continuing to find solutions, they weren’t there yet. He knew there were trade agreements to be made and allies to be secured and bills to be passed and journeys that were not ending now, but only beginning. There were so many vode that were about to step into new roles that they’d never tried before and some of them would love it while others would hate it. 

But they would figure it out. Cody knew they would. He’d seen it— in the murals decorating the halls from new painters, in the stories from 7829 who’d recently begun to call himself Suum, in the veritable essay he’d received in the suggestion box from a vod named Leaf who sketched out a future of bioengineering so clearly that Cody could taste his vision and had led them to begin the conversion of a few of the cloning labs into something useful. He’d seen it, lived it, when he and Fox, his new vice president, had danced screaming in each others’ faces and stomping and twirling, the fire inside them flaring bright and hot and real, knowing they would work together for their people tirelessly. 

And he knew it now, drunk, against a wall and tired and glowing. Soon, he would stand back up and go out into the fray and be one with his brothers once more. But, for now, he leaned his head on Bly’s shoulder, and smiled.

Chapter Text

They’d gone from being the clueless new world on the hyperspace lane to becoming an important world in the Republic that supplied fish and seaweed as well as led the galaxy in ethical cloning and biomedical research. There were no more unethical experiments nor entire beings being cloned, but Cody had enjoyed opening their spaceports to doctors researching better prosthetics and cyberkinetics while working on ways to combat degenerative diseases and debilitating mutations. 

He thought it was oddly fitting that clones made to fight in a war would be known in the future as those from a place that was so focused on healing. It satisfied the anger he carried around with him at all times into something quieter and more malleable that he used to sharpen his mind and dive into the most tedious parts of his job— though he was careful to never let the hate rot within him.

It had taken time, four amendments, many elections, trade agreements and negotiations, and lots of expansion over the water while converting the cloning labs to lead them here. 

They’d also finally gotten closure on the Kaminoan scientists and trainers, who’d been shipped back to Coruscant when Rex and his retinue had left for the planet, who had been tried for their inhumane treatment of his people.

Sometime in the past few months, likely from the Mandalorian contingent coming and sticking around for much longer than expected, someone had started calling the citizens of Kranak the Kranake, which then had taken the intranet by storm and now everyone was using it. 

Cody thought that maybe everyone loved the hard K consonant a little bit too much, because as he pushed through the hallway into the area surrounding his office, he was greeted a little too gleefully by Skedd.

“Good morning, King Kote!” 

Cody just looked at him flatly; Skedd knew how he felt about that stupid nickname. Ever since Monnk had said it on the night of the election party, his brothers had refused to let it die. Monnk had even posted some meme referring to him as “King Kote” on the intranet, and from there it spiraled out of control. 

As in: Skedd didn’t reply to Cody’s glare, and instead raised up a mug of caf to salute him. Cody barely needed to look at the thing before groaning and rolling his eyes, met with a stylized picture of himself with ‘King Kote’ emblazoned around it in a circle, the top half in aurebesh and the bottom half in Mando’a characters. He couldn’t believe that Ruaza had deigned to be involved in making art of him.

“I never should have let you help me,” Cody grumbled. “This is torture. Please stop.”

Skedd took a loud slurping sip from his mug innocently. “You would have crashed and burned without me, your highness.” 

“Democracy, Skedd,” he reminded ineffectually. 

Unfortunately, Skedd wasn’t the only one who worked in the same space as Cody and felt that the joke was hilarious. Though Fives had been snatched away by Rex and was now living it up on Coruscant with a smile wider in every holo Cody saw than the one previous, he now had a vod named Keeli working under Skedd. There also, of course, was Fox as his vice president, the head of legal, Laug, head of commerce, Ballast, head of treasury, Colt, and a host of others. 

So Fox, who had his feet kicked up on his desk, made sure to complain loudly enough to draw the attention of everybody who wasn’t already looking. “But Alor Cody and President Cody really don’t have the same pizzazz, vod. King Kote sounds so much better.” 

Colt, with a wicked smile, added, “I mean, you were supposed to be Commander Cody before you lead the revolution. We’ve got to stick to the theme.” 

“If you don’t like King Kote, that’s fine,” called Laug. “We all can stop any time… my liege!” 

Obviously, they were a lost cause. Cody just groaned and continued into his office. He had work to do that was way more important than arguing with durasteel walls. 

Yes, Cody did like his job. He’d chosen it, after all, so suffice to say he liked it quite a lot. But one thing that he had always hated about it was having to read, write, and update legal documents. It was a rather important facet of being president of a newly established democracy that he be on the lookout for these kinds of things and raise them to the populace for a vote, following which— if approved— be willing and able to make amendments and fix them. However, the task was often arduous and downright torturous. He was, of course, thankful for the support of Fox as his vice president and Laug as his head of legal along with a veritable host of others willing to lend their ears and eyes, but sometimes Cody took upon himself projects and therefore the drafting fell squarely on his shoulders as the primary contact. 

In his tenure, Cody had made quite a few adjustments already to legal documents, including the one on communal assets and resources, but now was faced with his latest dilemma: sleeping and living quarters. 

The sleeping pods were adequate, of course, and Cody himself hadn’t given the matter much thought with how busy he found himself to be at every waking hour. However, after reading a thoughtful suggestion box post, Cody realized that his people would benefit from having their own personal spaces— living quarters, bedrooms, storage. He knew that those who’d gathered personal belongings kept them in specific areas or boxes, but he could see how that could become old very quickly. Unfortunately, finding a solution was not as simple as the discovery of the problem due to Kranak’s limited footprint of available space. Despite having a few new buildings, they still needed to be creative about how to go about this process. 

It had been Fox, in the end, to suggest zoning.

“If we section off areas and designate what they’re for, then that will show us how much space we have to work with in the first place,” he’d said, which Cody had found to be sound logic. However, it had also led to an additional problem— if they were requisitioning space for housing, then they would need to zone the rest of the space too in order to understand why it could not be used for other purposes. 

It was not only a headache, but a nightmare. Cody had not wanted to be involved, but he had been and it had been the worst part of his day for the better part of two months now. 

After zoning had been completed, they’d had to assess all of the different options that would be available to each vod, and how much space each person would be allowed to have versus what each vod would want. 

Thankfully, now they were finally getting close to being able to take action on all of their hard work. As soon as they perfected all of the legal documents and set them to a vote, of course. 

And, thanks to some other legislation that Cody had passed, the bill wouldn’t be scrapped completely if it didn’t pass unless it had less than 50% of its votes for “yes,” though it would need two thirds to pass.

So, Cody sat at his desk and read through as many documents as he could until his head began to hurt, then took a break by looking over the bantha meat shipment that Gregor had asked about before letting him know that it would arrive later that week. Then, he got back to it until he was pulled out of his legalese-induced reverie by Skedd poking his head into Cody’s office and reminding him of his next appointment. 

“You have a call with Knight Kenobi in about ten minutes, by the way,” he said gently. “I know how you get with the legal documents, so I figured the heads-up would be appreciated.” 

“Absolutely appreciated,” Cody confirmed. “I’ll finish this section, then get set up.” 

And now, with the communications tower finally finished, there was reason to set up. Having all of his meetings with holoprojectors along with voices made them much more interesting, and in the case of Rex, being able to see his vod’ika made the distance much more bearable than he’d originally thought it might be. 

So, Cody set up the holoprojector, and at the appointed time, he began communications with Knight Kenobi.

“President Cody, it is a pleasure to speak with you,” Knight Kenobi greeted, a small but subtle smile folded into the corners of his mouth. 

“As it always is to speak with you as well, Knight Kenobi,” Cody replied in kind, his lips twitching until Obi-Wan broke and smiled for real. 

“I’m glad you seem in good spirits, my friend,” Obi-Wan said. “How are things on Kranak?”

“I am well and things continue to run smoothly,” Cody told him. “The contingent from Mandalore, as you know, continues to want to stay, as do the JediCorps members still on-world. How about you? Is all well with Anakin? Satine?”

An expression crossed Obi-Wan’s face at the question that Cody did not quite catch, but the other man brushed right by to answer the presented questions. “Yes, our communications with Mandalore are continuing along… well. As for Anakin, I have an update for you on his progress: Tatooine is likely to see a revolution on its doorstep within the month. Are you still…?”

Cody snorted, not able to help himself with how ridiculous of a question Obi-Wan was asking him. “Of course we’re still ready to join in on the relief efforts. I don’t remember if you received it, but I got confirmation from my scientists and safety testers that the improved formula for the hydration packs have been completed and they are safe to consume for almost all sapients registered in the Republic’s databases. The few exceptions are in the official documents, which I can make sure you have, but should also be printed clearly on the packaging.”

Obi-Wan’s resulting smile was bright enough that Cody found himself relaxing his shoulders and gaining confidence.

“That’s lovely, Cody. And yes, please send me those files when you get a chance. I spoke with Padmé earlier and she confirmed that she and Senator Antilles of Alderaan are also prepared. Whenever I get the word from Anakin, you’ll be the first to know.” He sighed and shook his head. “Honestly, I do worry about that boy.”

Cody understood— he’d felt similarly about Rex stranded in the dar'yaim of the Senate on Coruscant, but Rex had turned out just fine. “Have faith, Obi-Wan,” he advised. “I’m sure your utreekov’ika will be fine.” 

Obi-Wan still looked a little troubled, but then made a considering face. “Well, I suppose his mother will be there to keep him in line.”

From there, their conversation turned into rather… less pressing matters, Obi-Wan lamenting over a recent squabble of a mission he’d been put on and a decision his Jedi Council were taking forever to make, and Cody in turn groaning about the conclusion to the zoning debacle since Obi-Wan had inquired about its progress as well as complaints on his men still calling him “King Kote”— which Obi-Wan unfortunately found hilarious and shared little sympathy for. Their call ran so long that Cody was shocked to be brought to task by Skedd’s sharp knocking, signalling that it was time for his next appointment. 

“Sorry Obi-Wan, but I have to go,” Cody said reluctantly, and saw the hesitance mirrored in his friend’s face. 

“Rather it is I who should apologize for keeping you so long,” Obi-Wan demurred. “I hope that I haven’t made you late for anything?”

“No, of course not,” Cody reassured him. “We’ll speak again soon and I’ll make sure you get those documents. Cody out.” 

He hung up just in time for Skedd to open the door and stick his head through the crack, expression full of exasperation complete with a double eyebrow raise. 

“You finally done?” He asked.

Cody gestured to the obvious lack of Obi-Wan’s holoprojected figure in lieu of a response.

“Alright. Because I just got a message from Teek requesting both of us to come down to medical.” His face broke into excitement. “It’s our turn to get some gene therapy!”

On their walk down to the medbay, Cody couldn’t help but give Skedd a few looks. His batchmate was acting weird, for lack of a better term. His smile was too wide, his paces too quick, and his hands far too jittery with constant movement. 

Cody was willing to watch and gather intel when Skedd walked too quickly down the hallway. He was willing to let it go when Skedd then bounced in place to wait for Cody to catch up. But he couldn’t hold it in any longer when Skedd apparently decided that Cody was taking too long before walking back to meet him and then re-walking the length of the hallway again at Cody’s side.

“Skedd. What are you doing.” 

Skedd did not meet Cody’s gaze. “Nothing, nothing; you’re just going way too slow today!”

Cody fixed a flat look in his direction. “I am walking at the same pace I always do. It is you, on the other hand, that is acting strangely.”

“Ugh,” Skedd groaned. “You’re such a busybody. And you’re doing that thing where you’re talking like a karking jedi. Stop it.”

Rolling his eyes, Cody started to open his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by their arrival to what had turned into the medbay’s waiting room, which was full of hubbub and buzz from the air of excitement from those waiting to participate in gene therapy with a few grumpy faces with minor injuries waiting to be treated. 

By the time Cody had finished his initial scan of the room, he turned to ask Skedd a question, but his brother was gone.

Cody’s eyebrows flew up to his hairline when he saw Skedd over by Teek’s desk, where he exchanged a few words before tossing down his datapad— Cody had never seen him treat it with such lack of care— and practically run to one of the entrances to the medical rooms. 

Fascinated, Cody watched Skedd practically trip over himself in his haste, head moving about like he was looking for someone until his face lit up in a huge smile. He walked up to a Twi’lek doctor and said a greeting loudly enough that Cody could hear from across the room.

“Hi Sinya! How— how are you?”

Sinya, who had been seated and reading a datapad, stood. She was slightly shorter than Skedd with striking blue skin against the white walls and her green scrubs, and Cody saw her face return Skedd’s smile in intensity. Cody presumed that she must be on break, due to her lack of coat and materials, and an idea began to dawn on him as to why Skedd had wanted to arrive so urgently.

Unable to hear Sinya’s reply, Cody started to move closer. He wasn’t going to interrupt, but he had a keen need to know more. 

“—loved the story you sent me that Suum wrote,” Sinya was saying as Cody drew near enough to be back in range. “It reminded me of one of the fables that we have on Ryloth, actually. The tale of the folly of Ry Nymbis.” 

Skedd was nodding so fiercely that Cody wanted to use both hands to steady his head to stillness. “Woah,” he said. “That’s very interesting! I’d love to hear that story. Sometime, that is. Whenever you have time to tell it, since I’m sure it’s too long to tell while on your break. I mean, not to presume, I just—”

“He’s kinda helpless, isn’t he?” A low voice asked Cody.

He flicked his eyes over to see Keller and snorted in amusement. “Yes. It’s painful.”

Keller tsked. “Shiny’s first crush,” he said mockingly, but Cody could tell that he didn’t mean any real harm.

The two of them watched as Skedd came across as awkward, fumbling and a bit manic at points, but also enthusiastic and clearly interested. Evidently, Sinya didn’t mind too much, because she kept talking to Skedd despite his odd behavior until a medical droid darted out of the hallway to collect her for the rest of her shift. 

When Skedd finally turned away from the doorway she’d disappeared into, it was to find Cody and Keller both looking at his with matching teasing grins, which Cody was very satisfied to see resulted in a groan from Skedd.

“So… is that why you were in such a hurry to get here?” Cody asked mildly once he’d gotten his grin in check.

Skedd hunched his shoulders, his cheeks turning pink. “Um… no.”

“Unconvincing,” Keller said, and tossed a snack in the air that he proceeded to catch in his mouth and crunch on loudly enough to be heard. It was, in Cody’s opinion, a rather showy bit of theatre. 

And it was enough to break Skedd, who said, all in a rush, “Sinya is just really cool and she showed me how to color code all of my scheduling so it all makes way more sense now. Visually, that is. And she’s so nice and good at telling stories and so smart—”

“Okay loverboy,” Keller cut him off, and Cody thought that Skedd looked almost grateful for the interruption. 

“She seems wonderful,” Cody said to make up for the teasing.

Skedd put his head in his hands. “Can we please talk about anything else? Have some mercy on me, please.” 

“No,” Keller said. “I, for one, would love to—”

“Tell us about how your cadets are!” Skedd burst out.

Cody turned to Keller with interest. He actually did want to hear about the self-defense class that Keller was teaching to the kids. Of course, it wasn’t anything like the training any of them had gone through before, but everyone agreed that physical exercise and learning how to defend oneself were important enough to keep teaching. Keller, along with a number of others, had stepped up to put together and teach an appropriate class. 

“I know you’re trying to distract me, but I’ll let it happen this time. My cadets are good, shiny. We’re still working on dodging, and next session we’re going to have a competition to see who can avoid stun blasts for the longest amount of time.” The enthusiasm was a good look on Keller.

“That sounds good,” Cody said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“You should come,” Keller offered, and Cody was severely tempted to agree, but he had no idea if he would have time. Thankfully, his Master of the Schedule was right there for a consultation.

He opened his mouth to ask, but Skedd knew him well enough that it was unnecessary. “I’ll go get my datapad. When is it?”

Cody and Keller trailed after him back to the front desk, where Teek handed Skedd his datapad with an amused expression. As Skedd and Keller began to discuss slotting a visit to Keller’s class into Cody’s upcoming workdays, Cody decided to instead talk to Teek, who he had not been able to check-in with recently. Apparently, Teek had been on one of the recent dives led by a vod that Cody thought he remembered from Stone’s group, which had been a led exploration of the species of fish and seaweed that lived nearby. It sounded so enchanting that Cody made a mental note to see if he could find the time to go on the next for-fun dive held. 

It felt like no time at all before Cody heard his name being called by a med droid that led him down a hallway to a typical patient’s room and administered a shot before telling him, “Dr. Uthan will be with you in fifteen minutes.”

Cody blinked at the name. He wouldn’t have guessed that Dr. Uthan herself would take the time to administer the gene therapy measure she’d helped to engineer, but he supposed being around to ensure it was working properly made sense too. 

He only had to wait a precise 15 minutes before Dr. Uthan strode into the room. Though shorter than Cody, she was an imposing woman with a presence that was felt when she entered a room. It almost made Cody want to stand and salute, and made him severely grateful that Dr. Uthan had not yet met Verco.

“President Cody,” she said. “Pleasure to see you. Can you please roll up your sleeve?”

“The pleasure is all mine, Dr. Uthan,” Cody said, and then cringed when he realized that Skedd had been right about him sounding like Obi-Wan after all. Quickly, he moved to roll up his sleeve as requested. “So, how exactly does this work?”

“You should have received a shot from a med droid when you arrived, yes?”

Cody nodded as she busied around the room, pulling on gloves and grabbing a bag of fluid, a needle, and an IV pole as she continued to explain once Cody had confirmed.

“Good. That was to ready your system. Now, I’ll prepare an IV to administer the therapy in vevo, which should take about an hour. I’ll stay with you during that time. Then, when we’re done, you will go back out to the lobby and wait another half hour, just in case. After that, you are free to leave and your treatment will be complete. There should be no side effects other than some fatigue over the next few days as the treatment works through your body and adjusts to the change. Do you have any questions?”

“No. That sounds rather straightforward, actually,” Cody replied, not quite surprised but impressed by the efficiency of the procedure. 

Dr. Uthan smiled, a quick flash of teeth. “Then let’s begin.”

It was quick work for her to wipe the crook of his elbow with a saniwipe and insert the needle for the IV. Cody watched the fluid travel down the tube for a moment, and then turned to Dr. Uthan. 

The debacle with Skedd still fresh on his mind reminded Cody of another romantic detail, and he decided that enough of the day had passed that he was allowed to be a little bit unprofessional. 

“So, I hear that you and Mij are doing well?” He inquired, eager to have the chance to talk to Dr. Uthan while he received his treatment. Cody didn’t have enough time these days to talk to people about their personal lives instead of just work. 

She blushed and turned away at the question, her embarrassment beating out her professionalism. “Yes, we’re doing quite well,” she murmured, and Cody just had to know more. Thankfully, she was willing to divulge, and they spent the next hour conversing on a number of topics. 

Apparently, Mij Gilamar was quite the passionate lover; not that Cody necessarily needed to know that about one of the former trainers, but he figured that Verco would get a good kick out of Mij trying and failing to cook a grain porridge that Dr. Uthan— Ovolot, she’d told Cody to call her— had ended up needing to soak a pot for an entire day to be able to scrape the burnt bits on the bottom off. 

She was quite witty, with a biting sense of humor that leaned just enough into the gallows that Cody understood what Mij had seen in her. Not to mention, she was smart. Cody had inquired more about the process of their genetic therapy, and Ovolot gave him a rapid breakdown that left Cody reeling. He’d understood all of what she told him, but he wouldn’t have been able to replicate the explanation and he was certain that she’d simplified things solely for his understanding, but it had been very interesting. 

Afterward, Ovolot had continued to talk about her other work— not only had she been working on the cure for them, but Cody also knew that she’d recently made some developments in helping out 99. 

Truly, 99 was the best of them. Every vod knew that, and if they didn’t then they were corrected promptly upon assuming otherwise. Ovolot detailed the process of making his gene therapy, which had been pretty similar to theirs, according to her explanation, along with a corrective surgery to help fix his gait and ensure that he was not in constant pain. 

Ovolot smiled, her face open and warm, as she told him that 99 had reported a significant decrease in pain and enlarged mobility, and she had handed him off to some physical therapists to help him continue to keep up his range of motion. 

“He’ll be back to teaching those little ones how to read very soon,” Olovot assured him.

“I’m so glad you could help him, and all of us this way,” Cody told her. “I know that originally, you were doing the opposite, but I appreciate that you are now working with us instead of against us.” 

Ovolot huffed. “Well, when a Sith gets ideas in your head, it really can kark you up. The Nulls and Mij set me straight, and I’m happy to be here. You all haven’t even tortured me once— only held me at blasterpoint.” 

“Wow, the bar is so high,” Cody snarked right back. 

It was actually a shame when the med droid came to fetch him to go to the lobby. Cody shook Olovot’s hand once more, promised her a dinner in the mess the following week, and exchanged personal comm numbers before taking his leave. 

The next morning found Cody with a mug of caf, Skedd at his side taking furious notes, and on a three way holocall with Senator Rex and Duchess Satine Kryze. 

Sometimes, Cody’s life still felt surreal. He was sure that if he had been told he’d be doing this a year ago, he would have thought the sentient telling him to be insane. 

Now, their business mostly having been fulfilled, he was chatting and catching up with his favorite vod’ika and the ruler of Mandalore. Weird. Good, of course, but weird nonetheless.

“—saying is that the contingent over there really doesn’t want to leave, I assume?” Satine was saying. 

Rex snorted. “If what Blackout tells me is true— which it is, because that vod does not lie to me unless there’s a good reason— then they’re making themselves right at home.” 

Cody knew what Rex was referencing. Perhaps everybody knew, or at least those that had been in Command. Blackout had been sending daily updates on the interactions between one of his men— Subter, one of the ones who’d created the intranet— and Parjai from the Mandalorian contingent. 

Parjai was one of the culture ministers who’d come with a veritable library full of information about the history of Mandalore as well as plenty of combat training. He was enthusiastic about his work, easy to talk to, and utterly infatuated with Subter. 

Cody was of the opinion that Subter’s explanation on how he’d helped code the intranet was what won over Parjai, because Cody recalled being impressed when he’d learned about it, and basically every Mandalorian that Cody knew or associated with had a thing for competence. See: Mij with Olovot. Or Skedd with Sinya. It was pretty obvious. 

“I think that Parjai would be especially displeased to leave,” Cody contributed. “After all, he and Subter are just doing so well at… exchanging culture.”

Satine, thankfully, knew exactly what Cody was trying to say. “Oh, yes. I believe we have one of those over here as well. Your Sharpe? He and my friend Mira seem to be meeting up almost daily in the hopes of establishing a firm connection between our worlds. We have so many diplomats in the making!” 

Rex, the poised Senator he was, snorted. “You are in good company, as Fives has been waxing poetic about some baker on Coruscant for weeks now. Y’know, I always thought that those Mandalorian romance novels blew things out of proportion, when I was a cadet. Life in the Senate has proven a swift and fierce correction.” 

Stifling a laugh with her hand, Satine nodded. “Oh, yes. I haven’t stayed on Coruscant in some time but from what I remember, and from what my friends there tell me, it certainly would be. But… romance novels? From Mandalore?”

“Ah, yeah, some of the trainers had a few of ‘em. We would have them smuggled between us as a reward. It was rather effective, actually.” Some of the squabbling over who got the datapad first had been quite fierce, Cody recalled. “And, speaking of smuggling, how have your Tatooine preparations been going?” 

Satine’s face brightened. It was nice to see that everyone who’d been roped into this project was as excited about it as Cody was— though he guessed that the Hutts were almost universally hated among anybody with a moral code. 

“As a neutral system,” Satine said, “Mandalore had been uniquely qualified in helping out Anakin. We Mandalorians do despise slavery. Obi-Wan is only getting more and more fretful, though; I can only hope that this all hurries up so that he can quit nattering my ear off with his worrying about the boy.”

Cody could relate to that statement. “Oh, Obi-Wan’s got you listening to his nonsense too? Yeah, I had to talk him down the other day, but when it comes to Anakin it’s hard for him to turn it off. The dangers of being an ori’vod.” 

Satine got a look on her face. “Oh, that’s interesting.”

Rex looked over at Cody. They were still so in sync, even across lightyears of space, that Cody was already looking at him to exchange a glance of confusion and the intent to dig deeper. 

“What’s interesting?” Rex asked blithely.

However, the Duchess wasn’t her people’s leader for nothing. Easily, she redirected the conversation back to where she wanted it. “Just that Obi-Wan is being so forthcoming. But he must be rather worried about Anakin, as we all are. Dealing with the Hutt Syndicate is always treacherous. And, speaking of treachery, I wanted to extend my thanks again to your slicers who flagged that activity on Concordia. I don’t know what we would have done—”

Rex groaned and Cody waved off Satine’s praise. A few months ago, from Blackout’s research he’d done on Mandalore prior to them solidifying their allyship, he had found a few red flags that he’d wanted to dive into. Cody had, of course, given him full reign to do so, and so dug Blackout had— only to discover that a faction of Mandalorians called Death Watch were gaining traction and had started to gather on the moon of Concordia. They’d flagged the activity to Satine and their party of ambassadors on Mandalore, and in turn Sharpe had reached out to Spar who’d reached out to the Nulls. 

Then the Nulls had stopped by Kranak to pick up the intel from Blackout themselves, and… yeah. Cody had never been on the receiving end of so many noogies in his life , and he’d gotten his ass absolutely handed to him in hand-to-hand because Monnk and Bacara and Mereel kriffing Skirata were so insistent that he train with them. In short, Spar had been extremely correct when he’d said that the Nulls would find him cute. If he never was called copikla Kote again in his life, he would die happy. 

The Nulls had gone to Concordia, done some light reconnaissance, and found that somebody on the moon was talking to somebody in the capital city of Mandalore: Sundari. The Nulls traced the transmission on the Sundari side to the Sundari Royale Palace, only to find that the person in contact with Death Watch had been the moon’s own governor. Barging in on the man— Pre Viszla— while making his latest transmission to Concordia only made things more complicated when he pulled out the kriffing darksaber of all things. Thankfully, the Nulls were prepared with beskar, and between all of them and one of him, it hadn’t been too rough of a takedown. 

Upon knocking out Pre Viszla, the Nulls hadn’t exactly been pleased. They had agreed to look into the whole issue with Concordia mostly because they were worried about the safety of Sharpe and Fordo than anything else, and the fact that Death Watch’s informant had been a part of Satine’s government didn’t fill them with confidence about the strength of her pacifism, which they’d already been on the rocks about.

Cody had been woken up from his pod by Skedd and shoved into a room for an emergency comm meeting with Fox and Rex and Sharpe as well as Kom'rk Skirata, who had been extremely irate in delivering his updates on what was going on. 

When they’d thrown Pre Viszla at Satine’s feet with the darksaber in hand, according to Kom’rk’s account, everything had descended quickly into chaos. Duchess Satine had been betrayed but stoic, her Prime Minister and cabinet had begun yelling, and even the Duchess’s sister Bo-Katan Kryze had thrown a fit when she’d agreed with the Nulls. Because, according to Mereel Skirata who’d later messaged Cody, the Nulls also hadn’t been very gentle about taunting Satine for her— in their words— ineffectual pacifism. It had not been an entirely great moment in the Kranak/Mandalore allyship, to be frank. 

Knowing that the Mand’alor was her governor who had been scheming behind her back with Death Watch who were so fiercely Mando’ade and that her own sister agreed with Clan Skirata, who’d attacked her New Mandalorian pacifism, had shaken Duchess Satine. Even from Kranak, it had been obvious. 

The rude awakening had caused Satine to speak to many individuals, including Sharpe and Verco and Cody and even Rex at length, as well as her own advisors, people and sister. 

Cody didn’t know what everyone else had said, but he’d told Satine of the way that they’d changed things on Kranak, the way that they’d embraced their identity, the way that they hadn’t been fully Mandalorian but that it had been something to latch onto and grow into and build an identity off of. He’d spoken about being a warrior and knowing that his purpose was to fight and to die, being named glory and being told to wear it, how his name had shaped him and changed with him to hold the honor of being the glory of his people as their elected leader. He spoke about legacy and meaning and shaping into the best possible version of himself not only when it was easy but when it was hard. 

Satine had shared, too. The death of her father followed shortly by that of her mother. What peace and pacifism meant to her, the way that Mandalore had been killing itself from the inside out and how adherence to the old ways had caused infighting, arrogance, and self-righteousness. “I had to stop it,” she’d told him. “So I took everything they stood for and flipped it on its head.”  

She’d thought that the traditionalists had died out. She’d been wrong. And the Skirata clan had told her that her pacifism would cost her the whole of Mandalore and her life as they threw down her governor, Pre Vizsla, at her feet with the Darksaber while her sister shouted her agreement.

Satine wasn’t stupid. It took a hectic few rotations, but she and Bo-Katan had worked out a solution. Mandalore needed to be strong. It needed to be flexible. And it needed for there to be no war on its surface, otherwise their planet would be uninhabitable.

So, Bo-Katan trained for a couple weeks with the Nulls. Then, with Satine’s blessing, she challenged Pre Viszla for the darksaber. Bo-Katan Kryze was, from the holorecordings Cody had seen of the duel, a true Mando’ad. She’d held her own and was able to strike down Pre Viszla to win the darksaber. With the Nulls and Satine’s Protectors as her backup, she’d gone to Concordia as Mand’alor to negotiate with Death Watch. 

Said negotiations were, of course, still ongoing. Some of Death Watch hadn’t really been happy about the development that the Mand’alor was a 20-year-old woman from Clan Kryze, but they had needed to deal with it.

“We’re happy we could help, though I know it hasn’t been easy,” Cody told Satine.  

Satine gave Cody a flat look. “Without you, I would have been assassinated in less than five years. And not only did you save my life, but my legacy and my relationship with Bo-Katan. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her happier than she is now as Mand’alor, despite having to negotiate day in and day out with Death Watch.” 

“Sometimes, all of that can actually be fun,” Rex said. “Verbal sparring, though it lacks the same physical sensation, is almost as good if you can fire off a remark that the other sentient doesn’t even catch until after the conversation has ended.” 

“I rather agree, Rex. Well, we’re still stuck on how best to coexist without infringing too much on my New Mandalorian pacifism or their adherence to the old ways. Remind me, how did you all transition from being soldiers to what you’re doing now?” Satine laughed wryly.

However, Cody thought that she was making a rather brilliant point. “If you think that might help you, I’m willing to send over some of my thoughts on our transition from preparing to fight in a war to our relative peacetime.” 

Satine’s smile was wide and bright. “Oh, that would be lovely!” 

They only talked for a few more minutes before the Duchess was pulled away for a different meeting, and Cody continued on with his day.

Later in the day, after his call with Satine, Cody found himself unable to focus on work. Instead, thoughts of war and his childhood swirled around in his head, sweeping and ugly. He found himself sending a single message on his datapad, and then waited for an answer. To distract himself, he fingered a stylus, twirling it around and around his fingertips before catching it and gripping it tightly in his hand. The distraction hadn’t really helped at all.

Something in the way his hand locked up reminded him that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d touched a blaster. Inside of him, his heart jumped at the thought. He should go practice. What if he needed to defend himself? 

Cody shook his head, breaking himself out of the train of thought. He could go to the practice rooms after work today. Forcibly, he set his mind back to the matter at hand, back to the thoughts that had ruminated and fermented and grown mold in the back of his brain, taking over like a virus.

The door to his office brushed open slowly to reveal Davijaan. Cody huffed. He hadn’t asked his dumb vod’ika to come to his office; he’d only meant to send back and forth a few messages. But he didn’t deny that it was nice to see his batchmate’s face. 

Davi sat down and raised his eyebrows, a silent invitation to start speaking.

“Do you ever think about the way we were brainwashed?” He asked, looking Davijaan in the eyes. The emotions he’d tried so hard to package up and make smaller unleashed themselves. His fist, still caught around the stylus, trembled around it. Cody let it. “They told us that good soldiers followed orders, that we were built to die for the Republic and that we should be honored. That the Jedi and the Republic were perfect, and everyone there prospered and we were going to be fighting against corruption and slavery and evil.” 

Cody was angry. Osik, but he was so kriffing angry. Their whole lives, they’d been lied to callously. The Republic was just a place. It was a decent place, not completely horrible but also not a paragon of virtue like it had been made out to be. 

It was unfair. The whole thing was unfair.

Davijaan looked right back at him, eye to eye, square and hard. “I think about it every day. I think about how we’d all be dying right now if it wasn’t for that little Jedi ex-slave. But, Cody? Whenever I do, I’m reminded that's not us anymore, and I’m grateful as hell for it.” 

Inhaling sharply in surprise, Cody blinked. The anger faded and Cody broke eye contact, nodding. His eyes felt hot. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Davijaan continued, “I kriffing hate them for the way we were raised. The Kaminoans, the trainers, those pompous kriffing guest lecturers that fed us all that osik in the first place. But now, all I can do is move on. Keep going. Let myself be mad when I’m mad but don’t— Don’t let it own me.”

“Because we won,” Cody said. It was an affirmation of everything Davijaan had just put into words. “What they did to us doesn’t define us. What we’re doing with it does.”

Government meetings these days looked way different than they had in the beginning. For one, it’d just been Command, scrambled together, dressed in uniform with regulation haircuts and freedom new on their skin. Now, at the table there were vode of all types— Alpha-class, graduates of the ARC program, and previous troopers alike— along with Mandalorians, off-worlders, and even Jedi. It had been an important lesson to learn for Cody that diversity of mind and lived experience made his government stronger. It was lucky that his brothers had realized and recognized that fact as well, since all of the beings at this table had been affirmed in their roles through Kranak’s elections. 

It was amazing to see the progress they were all making and continuing to make, the buildings almost coming to fruition and their production of fresh produce expanding as their hydroponics systems continued to expand, along with the increase in communication, interaction, and trade with other worlds. Almost half the room had needed to stifle snickers when it’d been turn for the Mandalorian representative to speak and offer more and more flimsy reasons why they wanted to extend their stay on Kranak yet again, which had also been a good time.

However, it wasn’t so amazing when the results of the latest vote came to the table to find that the zoning law that Cody, Fox and Laug had worked so hard on was the first bill— ever!— not to pass. Thankfully, it hadn’t hit the threshold to get kicked out entirely, but now Cody had to get Skedd to add law revisions to his schedule, which he already didn’t entirely like. 

When the meeting was over, Plo Koon stuck around. The Jedi was steadfast, and had a comforting presence. Cody had only conversed with him a few times, but each had been insightful and well worth the time. Master Koon had given him some advice, from Council member to Council member, on not becoming discouraged just because the initial version hadn’t passed right away didn’t mean that the idea didn’t have merit or that it wouldn’t pass next time.

“Sometimes, when you take a second look at something, you are able to bring with you a different perspective than you did before.” He offered, and though Cody felt like it wouldn’t be the second time looking at the document but, rather, the two hundredth, he figured the sentiment of the advice still stood. 

Regardless, Cody had a headache when he left the room. Sometimes, his job really was very tiring. 

It was a welcome breath of fresh air when Skedd came knocking on Cody’s door with a grin on his face. “Your time with Keller’s cadets is in fifteen minutes,” he said, and Cody practically threw the datapad out of his hands. 

When he arrived with Skedd in tow to the class, the noise was loud and cacophonous, bursting from the room. 

That alone was different from Cody’s days training as a cadet. When the door opened, the revealed color, light and play. Gone were the gray uniforms of Cody’s batchmates and brothers, replaced with brightly colored clothes they’d ordered from off world or dyed with materials already present on Kranak, like kelp and squid ink. The— well, they weren’t really cadets anymore, so Cody figured he’d have to find a different term— children were roughhousing, running around and shrieking, looking like there was no fear in their bodies. 

It made Cody’s chest ache, seeing them. Yes. This was what he’d done it all for. These children who were now allowed to be loud and rambunctious instead of serious and growing up too fast to die in a war they’d been designed for. 

Cody’s eyes finally landed on Keller, who was sporting a soft grin at Cody’s reaction. Skedd pushed Cody into the room from where he’d been lingering in the doorway. 

“Get to it,” Skedd told him. “And when you’re done, make sure to eat before you come back to work. Take your time.” 

“I will,” Cody promised. 

When he turned back around, Keller had come close. “It’s nice to see ‘em being kids, isn’t it?” 

Cody nodded. He let his eyes sweep over the children once more before his eyes stuck on a head full of longer hair than that of the others. He was talking animatedly with another few of the children, laughing and smiling. Cody blinked. That could not be Boba Fett, could it?

He turned to look at Keller. “This is Boba Fett’s class?” He demanded, whispering low enough not to be overheard.

Keller gave him a sideways look. “Yeah. Of course.” 

Right. Nobody knew about how Cody had overheard Boba and 99 talking in the corridors, least of all Keller or Boba himself. Cody would just have to act normal. “It’s good to see him settling in,” Cody said, because it really was good to see Boba acting like a child instead of raging about revenge for his father’s murder. 

The class ended up being fun. Cody, along with Keller, shot stun blasts at the kids as they ran around, trying to avoid the shots for as long as possible. Keller had used the lesson as an opportunity to talk about reflexes, but also fairness when some of the kids had started to shove others into the blasts instead of just dodging the ones coming at them. 

Cody had found the whole thing rather more profound than he was likely supposed to. In the last round, the kids had decided instead that they would work together to mutiny and rushed Cody and Keller all at once to grab their blasters and toss them away, screeching in victory as they did so and roaring loud with pride. 

Even as small knees and elbows hit Cody all over as he was tackled to the ground, he couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his lungs either. This and the lecture that followed were the practice of teaching to refine the body and mind not for war, but for life. 

How to work alone. Dodging obstacles coming your way. Choosing teamwork. Avoiding putting others down to pull one’s self up. All things that one had to learn in life, and Keller was trying to prepare them well. Hells, they were things that Cody had already had to deal with many times in his time as president. And sure, his ARC training had been helpful for some of it, but a lot of it had been completely irrelevant. 

Cody found himself wishing that they’d had the opportunity to be taught like they were teaching the children of Kranak now. Suddenly, he missed Verco with such strength that, when the class was dismissed, he found an empty room and called Verco. 

It was nice to hear his voice again. Cody hadn’t realized he’d missed Verco so much, with him being away on Mandalore, but even though Cody was fully grown there was something about Verco that made him feel like a cadet again.

“Things are different on Mandalore, too,” Verco told him, once Cody had finished detailing Keller’s class. “The peace of pacifism is a ground on which I have had to learn to stand. It’s a shame— Satine Kryze is formidable. She would have made a good soldier.”

There was something funny there that Cody didn’t know how to articulate, but funny in the way that sardonic, sad things were. 

“They have pain there, too,” he ended up saying. 

Verco hummed across the line, static and sharp. “Some things, I fear, are universal, Kote. And, make no mistake— though the Duchess is not a soldier, she is a warrior. Fighting is not always a war of blasters and blood. Words, principles; those are her weapons. And just because those behind her will not fight until stricken does not mean they do not know combat. For all she speaks of being different, she is still Mandalorian.”  

Cody’s head rushed. His mind spun, fingers itching with ideas for his next call with Satine and what impact the implications of Verco’s words would have on it. Because, what if Satine didn’t have to give up everything to help Bo-Katan bring Death Watch to heel? How could he find a concrete way to expand upon the definition of being Mandalorian like he’d tried so hard to articulate before but never fully could?

“A code of honor,” Cody breathed, feeling like he was getting somewhere. His fingers twitched, and he drafted a quick note on his datapad. He would need to think more about this later. 

“Yes,” Verco said, sounding a little surprised. “I suppose so. Well, would you like to hear about something I’m working on?”

Conversation with Bly

Bly

!!!!!

You will not believe what I just heard from

Verco.

Comm me back!

This better be good. I was sleeping.

Oh it is.

Verco is, apparently, WRITING HIS OWN 

MANDO ROMANCE NOVEL. 

no

no you’re kidding

I AM NOT KIDDING

HE TOLD ME HIMSELF

if you + davi are messing with me 

i’m going to be so pissed you better

be telling the truth 

I swear I’m telling the truth.

on Rex and Kranak and your honor???? 

On…? You’re strange. But yes, on Rex

and Kranak and my honor.

…

in the words of Fives, LMAO DAMN

THAT’S CRAZY!!!!!!

He told me that “It can’t possibly be any

 harder than training a bunch of cadets.” 

Oh no

Over/under on him quitting writing in less

than two weeks?

I would say he’d drop it, but it’s VERCO.

I bet he’s gonna finish it.

Actually you’re right. I hope that he does 

do it now. I want to read it.

Is that bad?

Vod, if you wanting to read Verco’s 

Mando romance novel is a crime, we’ll

both have to be locked up, because I am 

guilty too

WAIT have you told Fox yet????

Not yet

Why?

I need to see his reaction. Let me grab him

and I’ll be at your office in 30

Thought you were sleeping?

This is way more important than sleep.

Fair enough. Jate, vod

Conversation with Padmé Amidala

Cody! You did not have to send me that

set of wall hangings!!

They are absolutely beautiful though 

and I cannot thank you enough.

Wait…

Are these originals by Ruaza the painter?!?

CODY!

You’re very welcome. Senator Rex told me

that you had a blank wall in your office and

that it was in need of some art

And yes, they are by Ruaza! He was very 

happy for the commission, so don’t worry.

After everything you’ve done for us, this

was nothing

Besides, how else was I supposed to thank

you for your brilliance on the plan to bust

the Trade Federation? Those demagolka scum 

don’t know what’s coming for them

You’re too kind, Cody. Thank you so,

so much and please tell Ruaza that I

think they are lovely

I, too, cannot wait to break their 

stronghold. It is truly about time 

somebody did something about the fact

that a trading clan has a seat in the

Galactic Senate! 

It truly is ridiculous, but then again we

were considered property until you helped

us gain our independence

You are a fantastic ally - and a better 

friend. We are here to help you and 

Naboo at any time you need us.

Just have your supplies ready for when 

Anakin finished overthrowing Tatooine

and we’re even!

Perfect. Planning on it!

Conversation with Satine Kryze

I’ve taken your thoughts about a code

of honor to Bo Katan. She thinks that 

Death Watch might be amenable, provided

that they don’t have to be pacifists,

which is farther than I thought I'd get 

with the idea

Thank you, Cody. You’ve truly given me a 

lot to think about

Happy to help, Duchess. I’ll send any

additional thoughts as I have them.

---

Cody opened the door to his office and— stopped. He blinked for a second, then shut the door. He needed to get some caf, because surely he was hallucinating. 

On his way to pick up a fresh mug from the machine tucked away by Kosmo’s desk, he bumped shoulders with Fox. He and Fox worked shifts that overlapped by half so that there would be adequate coverage, so though Cody still felt like he could use another couple hours in his pod, it was nearing the latter half of Fox’s workday.

Of course, Fox was still on his way to get caf. The vode in Cody’s retinue might have become a little dependent on the drink, but according to what Cody gathered from holonet culture, that was practically normal for any working sentient with rights, so he wasn’t too fussed about it. 

“What’s that look for?” Fox asked immediately after his cup had finished brewing and he’d turned to look at Cody.

Cody blinked mulishly. “What do you mean?”

Fox gestured at his face. “That look. Like you’re more disgruntled than normal this shift. I want to know why.” 

To be honest, Cody did not appreciate the tone Fox was taking with him, like he was talking to a cadet wearing a bucket with the muffling settings on. Instead of answering right away, Cody got out his own mug and set it up under the machine to get his caf flowing. 

When he was made to wait, he replied, “There’s either a situation in my office, or I’m not awake yet. Needed caf to figure out which one.” 

“Oh?” Fox asked, interest coloring his tone. 

Rolling his eyes, Cody grabbed his mug when it was full and took a bracing sip of the bitter liquid, relishing in the way that it practically burnt his tongue off and made his brain begin to kickstart. 

“Well come along, then,” Cody told him, knowing that he would follow anyway, and turned to walk back to his office, waving to Skedd on the way, who had just sat down behind his desk. 

Cody opened the door and— yep. They were still there: baskets and baskets of brightly colored… fruits? Cody hadn’t ever seen most of them before, so he wasn’t entirely sure.

“What is all this?” He decided to ask, just in case anybody else knew. 

“Fruit, looks like,” Fox said, but something in his tone made Cody suspicious. 

Right when Cody was about to look at him though, there was the noise of a throat clearing on his other side, making Cody turn to look at Skedd. “Well, the Personal Space and Zoning laws passed last night. I think it’s safe to say that the citizens of Kranak love the bill… your majesty.”

Cody had been putting his everything into ensuring that bill had made sense— he hadn’t even booted up his datapad yet so he hadn’t known that this version had finally passed! The knowledge that his past month’s worth of work had finally come to fruition made Cody’s body heavy with relief. The fact that some of his citizens had been so happy to see the bill pass that they sent him a gift over it? Now, that was enough to make even Cody overlook the usage of that dumb nickname. 

“That’s— I’m glad. That it passed, and that everyone likes it.” 

Fox clasped Cody on the shoulder. “Even I got some,” he said confidingly. “To be honest, I have no idea what to do with it. I can’t eat all that fruit by myself.”

Cody huffed out a laugh, a little breathless. “I’ll probably just bring mine to Fordo’s Mando’a class tomorrow. I think they’d help me out.” 

“Yeah, probably. Good idea, I’ll take mine to the next government meeting. I know there are some vode there that put their work into the bill that probably didn’t get anything, and I’ll make sure they’re fairly compensated.” 

Knocking his elbow into Fox’s, Cody felt bright and incandescent. “So fair of you, Fox.” 

“You know us. Paragons of fairness and culture. Osik, we really are changing things, huh King Kote?” 

And then Cody was laughing once more. “Oh, shut up.” He was so grateful for them all.

Sometimes, Cody thought his job was a headache. …And then he would talk to Rex.

“Half of the Senators at the meeting yesterday just wanted to talk about what happened on the latest episode of Coruscanti Nights or Unoo from Love on Kashyyyk. The other half wanted to talk shit about the host of the event. Nobody wanted to hear a word about the bill against slavery,” Rex said to him, deadpan. 

“Well, were you talking to anybody reasonable?” Cody asked.

Rex’s features darkened. “Every rotation, I question if there are any reasonable sentients in the Senate, other than a select handful, of course.”

Yeah. That was when Cody was glad that he was on Kranak. If he were on Coruscant, he thought that he likely would have shot someone with a blaster by now— or himself.  

“I sure hope so, for your sake.” 

Rex’s hologram smiled tiredly. “I think I learned not to assume any work will get done at parties with these folks. Office meetings and planned outings are the best course of action. I have gained some ground with a few senators that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to win over, including the one from Malastare, who agreed to vote with us on the ani-slavery bills earlier today.” 

Cody was so proud of him. “I know you can do it, Rex. And even if you can’t this time, you might just have to redraft a bit like I did with the zoning laws.” 

Rex pulled a face. “Yeah, but if we redraft then we’re likely going to have to make concessions to the more centrist groups, which will water down the statements of intent in the bill,” he countered. “Padmé, Mothma, Tannor, Ono and I worked tirelessly on this. It’s as good as we’re going to get it. I just need to get about twenty or so more senators to confirm they’ll vote for it before we’re set to go.” 

Cody raised an eyebrow. Last time they’d talked about this bill, Rex had said they’d needed to secure almost fifty signatures. Only needing twenty was a big improvement. “You’ve been hard at work, Rex. I’m sure it will come,” he said, certainty ringing in every syllable. 

That was why he was glad to have Rex as his senator. He had full faith in his brother’s ability to get things done, and so he didn’t worry too much about their standing on Coruscant. He knew Rex would handle it. 

“Thanks Cody. I’ll keep you updated on our progress. But I wanted to ask you about the pirates I’ve heard about lately?” Rex asked. “What’s that all about?”

Groaning, Cody buried his face in his hands. “Who told you about that?” 

“Who do you think?” Rex asked, and when Cody looked back up at him, his eyebrow was raised. 

Cody scowled. There were way too many candidates to make a certain guess; everybody these days seemed to find a pastime in humiliating Cody to some degree. “Anyway…” he said, avoiding the question. “Yes, we’ve been dealing with some pirates. Apparently, the Pykes heard that we have state-of-the-art laboratories and a representative tried to come ask if we wanted to help them refine spice and be part of the spice trade.” 

Rex’s mouth ticked to one side. “So Fox was serious. You really did have pirates come knocking. I thought he was messing with me.” 

So it had been Fox. Kriffing traitor. Cody would have to think of a way to get revenge, like scooting all of his office furniture over slightly to the left. Yes, that would be fitting. 

“I wish he had been,” Cody said instead of detailing his plans. “It was a complete waste of my time and theirs. They really should’ve known better than to try to get us— the literal planet who joined the Republic because of slaves’ rights issues— to join in spice trading, which rides on the backs of slaves and corruption.”

Rex just blinked at him. “Don’t underestimate how stupid and corrupt some sentients can be. Haven’t you heard me talk about Orn Free Taa?” 

Cody had, in fact, heard Rex talk— or, perhaps more accurately, rant — about Senator Taa, and ceded to the point. 

“Well, if you’re that pissed about corruption, feel free to join our monthly holocall to complain about it,” Rex offered. 

Cody blinked. “That cannot be a thing.”

Rex’s smile was wicked. “Think again, King Kote. I’ll forward you the invite.” 

His vod’ika was such an osik’ika. But when the invite came through, Cody was quick to accept it. He really did feel like he needed a monthly call to vent about this kind of thing, anyhow.

Time passed, as it was wont to do. Cody barely noticed its rush in his fervor; tending to his people and his planet and his life. There were laws to write, committees to oversee, meetings to be had and people to look after. So, it came as a surprise to him when the day came the the Jedi who had so generously devoted their time and energy to teach, build, play and learn with the citizens of Kranak had to leave. 

Of course, not all the Jedi were leaving. There was a Mon Cala AgriCorps Jedi who had been the main designer of the hydroponics system that refused to be parted from her creation and Ruan, who had been the Jedi representative in Government meetings, became such good friends with Gregor that he decided they could not be parted. 

The rest of them, however, gathered up their things and made their way to Kranak’s docking and loading zone, their freighter sitting with the ramp lowered as they toted what little of their possessions they’d be taking with them.

Plo Koon stood next to Cody as they both watched. The Kel Dor Master had already put his things in the ship earlier, and his presence next to Cody was soothing, albeit pensive.

“I am glad to have seen Kranak grow to thrive,” he said. “Our Jedi Corps have done good work here, but you are now ready to do this on your own.” 

Touched, Cody turned to him and gave Plo a sharp nod, almost feeling the need to salute out of the sheer respect he felt for the Jedi beside him. “Thank you. I appreciate your words, and your help has been invaluable.” 

The smile on Plo’s face was more felt than seen. “So has yours. I have learned much from you here. If you need anything, the Jedi are here for you.”

It was no problem at all to return the smile. “I know,” he said, thinking of the way that Obi-Wan was always only a call away. 

Plo clapped his shoulder in farewell. Cody watched as the Jedi said goodbye to those who’d come to this send-off, noting comm frequencies being exchanged as well as hugs with only a few tears. 

Drinking it all in, Cody was grateful, but not overly sad. He knew he’d be seeing almost all of the sentients here today again, at some point or another. Maybe it was just a feeling— or that mysterious Force the Jedi were always talking about— but it reassured Cody, settling him down to his bones. 

Everything was going to be fine.

Later that day, when Skedd kicked him out of his office and demanded that Cody take at least one afternoon for himself, he took to wandering Kranak. Brothers, Mandalorians and offworlders alike flowed past him in the corridors, talking and laughing. Paintings on the walls caught his eyes— an old Ruaza favorite, a section where the kids were doing a mural as a class project full of big butterflies and flowers, some vod’s spray painted squiggles. The rain beat down heavy outside, panging the small windows of transparisteel as he walked past, covering the rhythm of his feet. 

Cody counted his paces, leaning into the nostalgia of it. It took him 300 of his slow steps to make it to the mess. A new record— but this Cody had time, whereas the old him never had. He was growing old at the normal pace of a human, now and with no slave chip ready to take over his brain at a moment’s notice. He had helped his brothers build this place, this home, for themselves. 

The mess was loud. Cody soaked in the atmosphere at the open doors, watching for a second, but he didn’t go in. Though he was full of feeling, Cody didn’t want to talk right now. Instead, he turned on his heel and strode away down a different set of under-utilized corridors. 

He was so proud of every single sentient on this planet. They had done it. It wasn’t by any means over, but— Cody and his men had built this, a society. He’d done his job, stepped up and found their Kote in more ways than one. It was an honor, a privilege, that Cody would hold tight to until it was no longer his path, however long that took. 

The musing made Cody huff, rolling his eyes at himself and smiling. If this was the kind of osik he said out loud, no wonder all the men were calling him King Kote. How dramatic and serious he could be!

Looking up as he reached his destination, Cody stopped in his tracks. At his bench— his little bench by the small, out-of-the-way window— somebody had painted a mural. It was stylized; an icon of Cody, his face turned to the side showing his scar, looking serious and important and regal. A little crown icon was painted to hover just over the back portion of his head, bright yellow and neon, like the paint Cody had yearned to put on his armor. 

There was an inscription, too: Kotyc Kote! 

And Cody knew who that was. His eyes closed, emotion spilling into him at the love and care and belief that his brothers had in him. At the thoughtfulness of Bly, of all people, to come here where he knew Cody would see it time and time again, and paint him as their hero. 

Cody had uplifted everyone else to matter, but they had lifted him right back. Together, they’d made a place for themselves in this galaxy— and Cody had no plans on stopping any time soon.

So he sat at his bench, painting at his back, and watched the rain come down. Serene. Peaceful. Filling his own cup back up so that he could wake up tomorrow and put himself back to the work he loved. 

Tipping his head back, Cody laughed as he realized the crown icon was perfectly positioned above his own head. Guess I really am King Kote, he thought, warm and fond and silly.

He’d just have to live up to the title. With everyone he had at his back and in his corner, Cody had no doubt that he would.