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Wooley giggled as he and 08 darted around a corner and into a nearby storage closet. They could hear the footsteps of the rest of Wooley’s batch trying to find him, but not one of them thought to look in the storage closet. Granted, it contained spare armor pieces reserved for the Alpha class ARCs, and no sane CT would even think about going into the closet.
Needless to say, Wooley wasn’t exactly sane.
Besides, 08 was worried about other cadets interacting with him since he had a noticeable mutation. Anyone on his squad or associated with him and the rest of his batch—those still left, at least—would be under stricter scrutiny than any other cadet. It was dangerous, and there were several cadets that had been decommissioned for mistakes that they otherwise wouldn’t have had to worry about.
“I think they’re gone,” Wooley whispered in the dim closet.
08 held Wooley in place for a few more seconds before he nodded his head. “I think you’re right,” he murmured.
“Good.” Wooley placed his hand over 08’s chest, right where he knew the soulmark would be. Rumors and stories had trickled down from the CCs, who allegedly got them from the Alphas who got them from one of the trainers. A soulmark was a reflection of a being’s soul, starting small when they’re a child and growing as more and more experiences are gained. In the center, there’s room for the most important people in a person’s life—the soulmates. Some vode, like Wooley’s batchers, Ratio and Ama, shared center marks, forged by their mutual love as batchers. Others, like one of the cadets two halls down, had a romantic mark with someone else. But according to those stories, your heart chose who belonged in the center of your soulmark, not any kind of destiny.
Wooley knew he wanted 08 to have a place in the center of his mark. 08 was everything to Wooley—and he’d do whatever he could to make sure they could both survive the future war. The one that all the Kaminoans and trainers told them would be coming. They would serve the Jedi in a noble war, and even if most of them died, at least it was for a noble cause. Or, that’s what they were told, at least. Wooley just wanted the vode he loved to be safe and for them to visit the stars.
“Wooley,” 08 murmured, barely audible in the closet. “We’re going to start training for the Marines soon. I don’t—” he swallowed heavily, and Wooley could hardly breathe. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to see each other once I start training. It will be hard to sneak away, especially since the training’s supposed to be really difficult.”
He knew it was coming—Wooley had known from the moment he’d found 08 shivering in a deserted corridor, hands pressed over his eyes. He knew that 08 was destined to be one of the greatest soldiers the future Grand Army of the Republic would have. Wooley, however, was average. There wasn’t anything remarkable about his scores in any of the tests he’d had to take. Wooley would be trained as a standard infantryman while 08 became a Marine, serving under CC-1138, if the rumors were true.
“I know,” Wooley whispered. He took a deep breath and looked up at 08, who was a couple of inches taller. “I know, and I believe in you. You’re going to be amazing; I know it.”
“Wooley—”
“Just, hug me please? While we still can see each other?”
08 immediately wrapped Wooley in a hug, holding on like if he let go, Wooley would be swept away by one of the storms of Kamino. Like Wooley was the only thing keeping him moving forward. Like they would never see each other again.
After several minutes, Wooley shifted and sighed. “08?”
“Hmm?”
“Once you start training, we might—we might never see each other again. I want—if you’re willing, that is—to have part of you with me? As my center?”
Wooley only heard the hitched breath because he was practically plastered to 08. There were no words that he knew of to accurately describe the warm feeling in his chest that seemed to expand beyond his body and into the vastness of space. He didn’t know what it meant, but he knew it was a different kind of warmth than he felt for his batchmates.
“Yes,” 08 breathed. “I’d like that, too.”
With that simple agreement, Wooley knew that when he next took off his uniform, there would be a new mark representing 08, exactly in the center of his soulmark. The very thought filled him with so much warmth and happiness, that Wooley reached up and gripped the back of 08’s neck and guided him down until their lips met.
It was sloppy and wet, and the crack of their teeth against each other hurt, but Wooley didn’t care. By how 08 responded, he didn’t care either. He pulled Wooley a millimeter closer, both hands pressed tight against Wooley’s lower back. It was messy, but after a couple of minutes, Wooley and 08 figured out how to match each other’s movements—that was when it went from nice to amazing. Wooley could spend his whole day with his lips pressed against 08’s, especially when his tongue darted out to taste the seam of Wooley’s lips. It was magic.
Footsteps marching down the hall outside the storage closet shattered their bubble of reality, and Wooley and 08 quickly broke apart. Wooley’s cheeks felt hot, his lips wet with saliva. He couldn’t bring himself to regret a single second.
“We should go before you get caught,” 08 said.
Wooley swallowed but nodded. Neither of them should get caught, and especially not 08, but he would never think of himself first. He was always prioritizing Wooley’s safety over his own.
“When does your training begin?” Wooley asked, terrified of the answer and needing to know anyway.
“Two cycles,” 08 answered.
Two cycles. They had two cycles left to sneak away and find each other before having to say goodbye.
They didn’t even have the two cycles. The next morning, Wooley and his batch were put through intensive survival training, and by the time they were finished, it had been four cycles since Wooley and 08 were able to meet up.
He hadn’t been able to say a proper goodbye.
The war was over, and the Vode were coming Home. Every single vod. From the cadets on Kamino, to the Coruscant Guard, to the Galactic Marines. Everyone.
Wooley bounced on his toes, holding Longshot’s hand as they waited for the Venators carrying all three Forward companies to appear in orbit. They were due to arrive at any moment, and Wooley was anxious. Three of his batchmates had ended up with the Marines after something bad happened on Coruscant, where they’d originally been stationed. He was excited to see them again—especially since they’d barely ever heard from them.
But there was another person Wooley was hoping to see again. It had been years since he’d seen 08. Since before the war started, and the war lasted for so long. He’d found other people to add to his center in those years, but his very first, the first person he’d ever kissed, well, he was special.
With a roaring cheer, the Venators appeared in orbit. Wooley’s breath caught in his chest for a second, and Longshot squeezed his hand.
Longshot was the only person he’d ever told about 08, out of respect for his desire to keep their relationship secret, but also because it hurt too much to talk about. He missed 08 desperately. And Longshot knew and understood.
“Let’s go greet your batchmates and see if they know 08,” Longshot murmured.
Wooley smiled and agreed.
It took hours for all of the men on board the Venator to ferry down to Concord Dawn, checked in, and assigned to quarters. Wooley knew Cody had arranged for Nova to bed down in the barracks next to Ghost, and Wooley was glad about that. He’d get to see his batchmates all the time. And besides, the Marines were all extremely attractive.
Wooley and Longshot showed dozens of Novas where their new lodgings were, along with the rest of Ghost Company. He was so focused on helping set their isolated vode at ease, that he’d missed the flicker of amusement in one of the Marine medic’s eyes.
The next second, Wooley was flat on the ground, staring up at a grinning Ama.
“WOOLEY!!! MAL! KYE! COME QUICK, I FOUND WOOLEY!” Ama bellowed.
“Karking hells,” Wooley groaned, clapping his hands over his ears. “You’re louder than Boil when he snores.”
Ama smirked and flopped boneless on top of Wooley.
“Fuck, are you a bantha?”
“Nope. But they’re great for eating and even better for knitting,” Ama chirped, far too chipper for someone currently crushing Wooley into the ground.
Someone stepped up next to Wooley’s head, and he looked up to see Mal, grinning down at him, another vod leaning heavily against him.
“Wooley,” Mal said, much quieter, but just as happy. “It’s really good to see you. Cyan was sure you were going to get yourself killed before the Vod’alor could bring us all Home.”
Wooley snorted. “Cyan still thinks I trip over my feet while doing parade drills.”
“That would be because you do,” Longshot said, voice as dry as dust. “Wanna introduce me?”
Ama refused to be budged, and Wooley was definitely not going to push him away. “This hellion is Ama, my vod’ika and the youngest of our batch by unanimous vote.” He waved up at Mal. “That’s Mal, the ori’vod of the bunch. Was decanted with the same kind of buir-instinct as Waxer and Boil.”
Longshot snorted quietly, well aware of how ridiculous those two could be.
“And I’m Kye,” a gravelly voice said. Wooley turned to look at his vod and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Kye looked far better than he had on Coruscant—clearly being transferred to the Marines had done wonders for his mental health, even if it was challenging on his physical. There were new scars, and all three of his batchmates had sharper bones. Not terribly noticeable, but enough that Wooley knew they’d struggled to find rations in between supply runs.
“And this is Puma. He’s my riduur,” Mal said with a sappy smile to the vod leaning against him.
“Riduur????” Wooley cried in disbelief. “You swore the riduurok?”
Ama snickered at him while Mal just looked mildly confused.
“I did manage to send out messages to Cyan and Corin. I thought they would have told you,” Mal said.
“Those bastards are gonna get tossed in the sea,” Wooley muttered. With a heavy sigh, he rolled and tossed Ama off of him. He wanted to hug his other batchers and ask them about everything. He gave Kye a hug, smiling when he felt his ori’vod return it just as fiercely, despite all the grumbles. And then Mal was there, and Wooley sank into his arms and felt like he was home. Mal always gave the best hugs and he’d missed being able to curl up with his ori’vod and relax while all of his stress seemed to drain away.
He offered Puma a hug as well, welcoming him to their small family. He seemed like a serious vod, but Wooley could also see the warmth in his eyes when he looked at Mal. They clearly loved each other fiercely, and Wooley was happy for them.
“Oh, before we forget, Wooley was looking for someone,” Longshot said, nudging Wooley in the ribs.
“Oh, right.” Wooley grinned a little sheepishly and ran his hand through his hair. “This may sound like a crazy question, but do you know of any Marines with the number CT-3608? He and I were close on Kamino, but we were separated when he started training for the Marines.”
All of the Novas in the vicinity froze and stared at Wooley for a long moment.
“I did say it would be a crazy question,” Wooley said defensively.
“It’s not that, Wooley,” Mal assured him quickly. He smiled warmly and looked up at Puma. Puma nodded faintly, and then Mal turned back to Wooley. “His name is Falcon now, and he’s actually part of our squad. He’s Puma’s ori’vod.”
One of the Novas hissed quietly and Mal immediately signed something at them that Wooley didn’t understand.
“I saw his center mark,” Mal explained quietly. “And it matched yours. I don’t know when the two of you met, but Falcon was looking forward to meeting you again. You’re actually pretty famous among the Novas—we’re all suckers for a good romance, and the idea of Falcon being separated from his lover definitely kept us entertained.”
“I’ll call him over,” Puma added. He tapped something into his comm, and a few moments later, someone tall and huge appeared, parting the crowds as easily as a Jedi could. He stopped next to Puma and looked at Wooley for a couple of seconds. And then he lifted his bucket off, and Wooley was staring up in 08’s eyes. Nothing could ever make him forget the way 08 would look at him when they were cadets, the pale blue of his eyes piercing and seemingly all-seeing.
“08,” Wooley whispered and took a half a step towards him.
Wooley was suddenly scooped up and hugged tightly against hard armor, 08’s—no, Falcon’s—face buried in his shoulder. Wooley squeezed back as hard as he could, wishing that there wasn’t any armor separating them so they could hug properly. Maybe even cuddle for a while. Closing his eyes, Wooley thought back to all of those terrifying nightmares he’d had throughout the war of what happened to childhood lover, and now, every single one of those nightmares turned out to be just bad dreams.
Falcon was alive. He cared about Wooley still, and he was huge. Wooley was not ashamed to admit that his mouth went a little dry at the way Falcon was able to easily pick him up, and the way his feet dangled at least a foot in the air.
“Wooley,” Falcon croaked.
“You’re alive,” Wooley breathed. “You’re alive, and you’re here, and you have a name!”
Falcon’s shoulders shook, though from crying or laughing, Wooley couldn’t tell. He felt like doing both. The relief was exquisite, the joy of having Falcon in his arms again was overwhelming.
“This is the best day ever,” Wooley said, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Falcon definitely laughed at that.
Wooley couldn’t wait to introduce him to everyone as his first soulmate.