Chapter Text
Kriff. Sweat was slowly making its way down his blacks- evidently the regulators could not handle this amount of jungle humidity, they were straining to compensate and the GAR quartermasters had got it wrong again. Cody shifted on his ass, trying to find a shred of relief.
It was now two hours past mid meal and his thighs were starting to tremble with the effort of sitting cross legged so long. He honestly didn’t know how General Kenobi could be so flexible. It could be Clones had a different center mass and muscle structure but it was impressive.
He chanced a quick glance at his General, spine straight, perfectly comfortable, Negotiator face on. He was politely charming the the kark off the Fosh, acting as if he were at a fancy society event on Coruscant and not sitting on a pillow on a verdant world in the Outer Rim.
He tried to move a tiny bit to relieve the cramp he could feel threatening in his calf.
Cody suddenly felt scarily reckless— he knew he has the reputation for being the most self contained- by the regs- of the CC Clones— but his brothers would have been horrified/exhilarated to find out that sometimes he just wanted to throw Kenobi over his shoulder and run away to wild space. Today it manifested as a strange compulsion to make mischief and he found himself unable to resist. Twitching slightly, he let out a tiny sound that might be a moan.
His General leaned over. “Still with us, Commander?” his eyes twinkling as if he didn’t know the stress Cody’s legs were undergoing.
No. Nuh-uh. He was not going to let Kenobi win this one, not when he was suffering. Trying for lofty cool, he murmured under his breath.
“No, General, everything is fantastic.” He let it wait a beat. “It’s just all this sitting has made everything below the waist feel so…tight.”
He could barely resist the smirk at the shocked look on his Jedi’s face at his blatant comeback as he looked at him innocently.
This was the game they had settled on, the one where neither can make a move due to power imbalances, chain of command and their own protective duties to their people.
Scanning Cody for a moment, his CO decided to looked satisfied, as if Cody couldn’t possibly be making that joke. Whatever it takes for him to sleep at night, Cody thought.
The General could wordplay and talk circles around entire galaxies but sometimes Cody could get a quip in that would stop him in his tracks. Normally that wouldn’t be in the middle of hyperlane discussions and the urgent need the Republic had to keep supply lines open this far in the outer rim, but kriff it, the sitting was starting to hurt, the circular aimlessness of these talks were wearing him and his glutes down.
Obi-wan swallowed and turned back to the avian Fosh representative, acting as if his attention had never strayed to his Commander.
“Why yes, your Grace, there would be a small squad stationed here to protect you and guard the lanes from the CIS,” he went on smoothly, never betraying he was currently smacking against Cody’s shields.
Cody kept his face calm and relaxed, and turned behind him to regard the Ghost squad that had accompanied them. They were forced to stand at parade rest in this heat also, but they were making him proud and not fidgeting. Not like Torrent, he thought to himself. Rex’s boys were smart and crack soldiers but they took after their di’kut’la General and enjoyed a little too much chaos for his taste.
Satisfied the men were surviving both the heat and the boredom, he turned back to the discussion in time to hear words he never enjoyed.
“My Commander and I would be honored to take part in the ceremony,” The General was saying. “And seeing it is a rare chance for your Shaman to give a blessing, we would be most happy to participate.
Wait, what? He had been hanging around Obi-wan too long, all of the sudden he felt agitated, getting bad feelings about this, alarms ringing in his head. He turned to the General and silently tapped his unease in their secret code on his knee. Obi-wan took it in at a glance and merely dipped his head right, then down. Understood, not to worry, the movement said. Alright, if his Jedi wasn’t feeling the bad juju, then he would let it pass.
Thankfully, that meant things were going to break for now and continue in the evening. Moving stiffly, he swayed up and Obi-wan caught his arm before he tumbled to the ground.
“Easy, Commander, you need to let the blood start flowing back down gently,” he said, his voice conscientious, but there was no hiding the absolute wicked gleam as he ‘helped’ his unsteady officer to his feet. Cody’s look of being outmaneuvered said it all and the men behind them snickered. He then unleashed his parting shot.
“Thank you, Sir, I’ll be sure and allow myself…time before I get back up again.”
Oops, he was really feeling the sun too much, this was very not like him, had the heat got into his brain? “Sir.”
He dropped his eyes respectfully and staggered over to his men.
“Let’s go find your bunks for the night, shall we?” his voice barely hiding the threat of ‘death by latrine duty’.
“Sir!” They all snapped to attention and one of the Fosh came over to lead them away, the crest of feathers flexing on their spine. He couldn’t help but notice that his General was looking at him weakly as they moved toward their quarters.
Cody mentally shook his head, he needed a nap, this shameless very public teasing was out of character. Alone with his General? Yes, but never with an audience. He followed Ghost to their rooms, suddenly wishing this mission to be over.
<<o0o>>
Kenobi pushed the curtains wide open, the late afternoon sun dappling the walls. The rooms they had been assigned were thankfully well insulated and cool. He and the Commander occupied a suite with double bedrooms, sharing the ‘fresher between them. Cody was splashing water over his head, still not 100% after sitting so long.
“For a rather low tech society, at least their dwellings are very comfortable,” Obi-wan called out to him. “I’d take this any day over my usual cabin.”
Cody strolled in, toweling off his face. “The ‘fresher is nothing to scoff at, either. Huge bathing tub, water shower, it’s nice.”
He precisely folded his stiff muscles onto the rather comfortable couch and sighed with relief.
“So what is this ceremony blessing we have been roped into?” he asked patiently, letting his body relax. He smiled to himself as he saw Obi-wan settle into another chair, clearly going into teaching mode. Such a nerd, he thought fondly.
Obi-wan sat and leaned over his knees in his enthusiasm, elegant fingers absently playing with his sleeves.
“It’s actually a great honor for us to be allowed to take part, almost no outsiders have seen this ceremony,” his voice in full on instructor form. “I think we will be sitting, again,” he motioned an apology, “and probably drink something and then the blessing will be said. Not too intense, I wouldn’t think.”
Cody lounged deeper into the couch. Now that he was resting and refreshed, leaving the room sounded less appealing. As if reading his thoughts, Obi-wan gave him a wry smile. “Needs must- for the Republic.”
Groaning inwardly, Cody echoed his line. “For the Republic.” Toeing off his boots, he scrunched down fully and closed his eyes. “Give me twenty before we need to leave.”
<<>>
Cody followed his General in his usual behind-and-to-the-left as they made their way in the dusk, the jungle just outside the village clearings appearing dark and mysterious. Drums were reverberating across the valley, and it was cooler and maybe a touch less humid. They were being escorted by four Fosh, each carrying torches, two in front of Cody and the General and two directly behind.
Wooley slapped at an insect that buzzed his ear, the men speaking quietly behind the torchbearers. They were headed to a different spot than this morning, a grassy meadow obviously reclaimed from the wild, and slowly filling up with hundreds of Fosh, their feather colors changing in rainbow of anticipation. A structure closed on three sides was on a bank a bit higher than the main area, and several of the bird-like Fosh waited in bright feathered regalia festooned on their foreheads.
The escort delivered Cody and the General to this group, leading the men further down the meadow. Cody only felt a twinge of worry that they would not be as close to his troops as he would like, but an attack at this stage of talks seemed unlikely.
“Please kneel here, the Shaman will be here momentarily,” the translator whispered. Cody moved where they indicated, his back to the crowd, right next to his General
The wizened female? male? stared into their faces intently, eyes all black with no pupils or iris. The Shaman was much smaller than the rest of the Fosh, but the reverence given it was obvious.
Cody was startled when they grasped his and Obi-wan’s inside arms and clutched them together, wrist to elbow. He started to get uncomfortable as the time stretched on and the Shaman did not blink or release them.
Strange chittering erupted from their beak, still not letting go or breaking eye contact.
“The Shaman says— you have lived many lives together, some good, some bad, but rarely with a happy ending,” their translator murmured. “Your bond is very strong, and they will do what they can to break the cycle of the bad lives.”
Cody allowed himself to eye at Obi-wan who was watching the proceedings intently.
The Shaman placed a beautifully woven scarf across their joined arms and swiftly tied them snug. They lit a taper and closing their eyes, started chanting. Heat began to glow under the scarf and Cody almost wrenched it away, afraid of being burned. Obi-wan gasped and clasped their hands together, turning to face his Commander. Cody saw that his eyes were going slightly wild, so this must be doing something radical in the Force. The heat kept rising on his arm, he thought crazily that it was going to burst into flame at this point when the sensation released then rapidly cooled down. A hint of strain tensed around Obi-wan’s face, but he nodded at Cody, he was alright.
Still chanting, the Shaman unwrapped their arms and Cody stared in amazement. A large tattoo had appeared on half of both their forearms, a blending of the Jedi symbol and the Republic insignia was now inked as if it had always been there. Cody’s showed the Republic on his inner arm with the Jedi part wrapping around, and Obi-wan’s was the reverse. When they placed their arms together, it formed the same tattoo as a whole. They had felt nothing but the heat, no pricking or pressure.
A tiny part of Cody was ecstatic to share a tattoo with his Jedi, even though he had a tiny Jedi symbol with a blue lightsaber over his heart already.
Obi-wan looked at him dryly. “Are you alright with us having such a permanent mark on us, Cody?”
Cody focused into his General’s eyes with as much intention as he could, willing him to understand.
“With you? Anytime, Sir.”
Obi-wan could not look away from such a naked declaration. They both stared at each other, breathing aloud.
The interpreter clicked their beak for their attention.
“Ser Kenobi, Commander, the ceremony is not yet finished.” She pointed to the Shaman, who had sunk down, their chin on their chest as they rested.
Two Fosh appeared, bearing goblets of a lavender liquid that twisted and moved in the glass.
“Both of you will drink, your new tattoos intwined,” she instructed. Feeling a little foolish, Cody linked his newly inked arm around his General’s, just now noticing the absolute quiet on the meadow as the multitude watched avidly.
His Jedi smiled at him, the familiar touch on his mind reassuring as they lifted their glasses together.
“To you, Commander,” Obi-wan said, his eyes never looking away.
“And to you, Sir.” They drank. Cody fainted.