Chapter Text
Commander Wolffe’s face is impassive, apart from a lightly raised brow. He legitimately wonders if the general is, in fact, joking.
At the head of the table in the Triumphant’s debriefing room, Plo Koon sounds like a proud parent introducing their new captain, his former padawan, to the Wolf Pack. The qualifications General Koon lists are admittedly impressive. And yet...
She looks puny.
“It will be an honor working with all of you,” she says, and Wolffe’s eyes slide to her face.
Her voice is controlled and deliberate, soothing even. She speaks respectfully, even to his fellow clones. Her cadence and inflection make it clear that General Plo was indeed her master. She even carries herself the same way the general does, despite being a full head shorter.
“Before the Chancellor outlawed all negotiations with separatists,” the general continues. “Captain Yaryn had been away on a string of diplomacy missions. It will be good to have her back. You will find few Jedi more skilled than her.”
“Negotiating with seppies?” Wolffe says, crossing his arms. “We’d probably find few Jedi more optimistic, too.”
The general merely laughs. “When you see Yaryn in action, I’m sure you’ll find her quite charming.”
“’Bout time someone shows him.” Corporal Marrow nudges Wolffe in the side. “Not sure if the commander would recognize charm if it shot him in the face.”
Wolffe shoves Marrow’s hand away. “If you say so, General.”
“Marrow, perhaps you wouldn’t mind showing Yaryn to the captain’s quarters? I believe our debriefing and introductions are done for the evening.”
Marrow stands up so eagerly, the scraping of his chair covers Wolffe’s scoff.
“Yes, General!”
“The rest of you are dismissed,” the general says, standing up. “Meeting on the bridge at 0900 to discuss our next assignment. For now, rest well.”
Yaryn stands to her feet, and Wolffe can see she hardly comes up to the nearest clone’s shoulder.
She’s going to be...an interesting addition to the squad.
Wolffe is nearly at the door when the general calls to him.
“Commander, a moment?”
Wolffe halts suddenly and turns. “Ye-?” He is cut off as a shorter figure collides into his chest.
He instinctively grabs them by the shoulders to move a step back and looks down, and his brow raises further as Yaryn’s wide eyes stare up at him.
“Oh!” she exclaims. “My apologies, Commander. I didn’t realize you were going to stop so suddenly.”
She’s polite, he’ll give her that. Apart from the general, most Jedi he meets don’t see fit to give clones the time of day.
He gives her a slow nod. “It’s fine. That was my fault. Didn’t see you there at first.”
Yaryn gives a gentle laugh that goes right up his spine. “Sorry. You’re just so...tall.” She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“I suppose you have a very interesting view of us clones then. Might want to secure the high ground if you go out into battle with us.”
“‘The high ground’,” Yaryn repeats with a grin.
Wolffe nods again, slower this time. He points behind her. “Got to speak to the General, if you’ll excuse me. Marrow’s gonna show you to your quarters.”
Yaryn seems to snap to attention. “Yes. Right. I’ll...be seeing you then, I suppose.”
“I suppose you will. We’ll be on the ship for a while, after all.”
Yaryn nods.
Wolffe nods. “Right…” He sidesteps her, allowing her to follow Marrow out of the room.
Wolffe returns to the large table as the general folds his hands behind his back. “I am hoping that you will take the lead in ensuring Captain Yaryn gets acclimated to the ship and our fine men, Commander.”
“Of course, General,” Wolffe says.
“While she is no longer my padawan, she has returned to be my protegee.”
“General?”
Plo Koon nods. “In the field, I will consider both of you my seconds in command. One day the 104th will be under her leadership, with you at her right hand as you now stand at mine. You’ll both want to become very familiar with each other’s style of command.”
“Has she...seen a lot of battle, sir?”
Plo Koon chuckles. “You are curious about her capabilities in a fight?”
“She…” Wolffe begins, treading careful ground. “It sounds like she has a specialization in diplomacy.”
The general nods. “She is a talented negotiator. And I believe her skills will become more important than we can imagine in the coming days. But she can certainly hold her own in a fight when she needs to. I do expect you to keep a close eye on her, however. I believe you both have a lot you can learn from each other.”
“Of course, I-both? What do you mean?”
Though Keldorians didn’t have the exact range of emotion as humans, Wolffe has learned by now what a smile looks like on the general’s face.
“Wolffe…” The Jedi master reaches out and lays a paternal hand on Wolffe’s shoulder. “One day, there will be a life after the war. It is my fondest wish that when that day arrives, you have the skills prepared to meet it.”
Wolffe frowns. “After the war?”
“Have you ever considered such a time, Commander?”
“No.”
The general chuckles. “Your brusque honesty does you credit. I have a feeling our new captain will like you a great deal.”
“I...if you say so, General.”
As Yaryn sips her steaming mug of caf, she partially wonders if she should have gotten an iced drink instead, because she needed to cool down . She was aware of the clones; they were ubiquitous. There were already rumblings that this conflict was going to be historically named “The Clone War”. But she had seen very few of them during her diplomacy missions, only in small units, mostly as guards for the Jedi, and she had never seen them without their helmets. She knew they were hardened warriors bred for battle. She knew that she would be working closely with them the moment Master Plo Koon contacted her about this assignment.
She didn’t know they were so handsome. Especially the grumpy one. He was already her favorite. She fought the urge to grip her shoulder where he had touched her. He was just so strong. And tall.
She shakes her head. No. She wasn’t a padawan anymore. This wasn’t going to be a repeat of her mortifying, unspeakable crush on her master. She was a fully-fledged Jedi knight now. How she conducted herself was one of her most valuable skills.
That wasn’t going to stop her from enjoying the view, however. She watches as the clones busy themselves about the bridge. Thank the Force that she has the Galaxy’s most unshakable sabbac face. It had slipped for a moment during the meeting, especially when Commander Wolffe had her by the shoulders. But after a moment to breathe, she would be all straight-faces and indiscernible concentration, even amidst a literal army of some of the most handsome men she has ever laid eyes on.
“Captain Yaryn?” a gruff voice calls out.
She discreetly choke-spits her caf back in the mug before she turns to the owner of the voice. Stars, it was that one .
With his helmet tucked under his arm, Commander Wolffe makes his way right to her. She can feel her neck craning slowly upwards as he draws closer to her.
Even during her earlier observations on the bridge, she was immediately taken in by the fact that while each of the clones was, well, a clone, they all carried themselves differently. Even beyond the numerous personal modifications, from hairstyle and color, to tattoos, to accessories that just barely skirted the lines of regulations, even the way the different men spoke and emoted were individualized.
Wolffe carries himself like he has a spine of durasteel, broad shoulders back with impeccable posture. He has a standard buzzcut, thick brows, and, while subtle, somewhat more pronounced frown lines than the other clones. He gives the impression that a majority of his communication takes the form of long-suffering eyerolls.
“Commander Wolffe,” Yaryn says with a respectful nod.
“The general said I should speak with you.”
She finds herself mirroring his frown, concerned. “Oh? Is there something pressing to discuss?”
“No.”
Yaryn blinks at him. He looks like he is preparing to report gruesome casualties to her.
“He said we should just...talk.” Wolffe gives a poorly concealed sigh. “I believe the exact phrase he used was…’chit chat’.”
“I...he did?” Yaryn asks, artfully keeping the corners of her lips down. “And do you chit chat very often, Commander?”
“No. I do not. The general said you were good at it, though.”
Yaryn nods, opens her mouth, and in that movement, in the entire wide galaxy, every single topic of conversation suddenly evaporates from her mind.
Wolffe tilts his head, expectantly and impatiently.
“Uh…” she begins, head empty.
“Yes?”
She crosses her arms. “You know, this isn’t exactly how chit chatting goes, Commander.”
He narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Well...what do you want to talk about? And you can’t say ‘nothing’ she quickly rushes when she sees him open his mouth. “General’s orders, you said.”
He frowns deeper as she smiles.
“Well,” she begins. “I don’t know you all that well, and I believe we’ll be working closely together in the coming days. Perhaps you could tell me a little bit about yourself,” Yaryn says helpfully.
“Not much to tell.”
“Of course there is! Where were you born?” she asks.
Her smile falters when he appears to break the laws of physics to look even grumpier.
“Kamino,” he rumbles. “Like every single other clone.”
“Oh,” she mouths softly.
Wolffe nods. “Yeah.”
Her eyes dart around for anything or anyone to help change the subject. Most clones seem too busy on the Triumphant’s bridge to note her floundering before their commander.
Oh. The Triumphant .
“Commander, I…”
Wolffe casts a severe look down at her.
She keeps a neutral face as she swallows. “After my Jedi training was at an end, Master Plo sent me away on diplomacy missions for quite some time. This is my first time being on his flagship, and Corporal Marrow only showed me to the command wing. Do you think you could show me around the rest of the Triumphant ?”
He simply looks at her for a moment, and she gives no impression that a sweat has broken out on the back of her neck.
Slowly, Wolffe nods. “I can do that.”
It’s not quite ‘chit chat’, but words seem to come much more easily to Wolffe when set to a clear purpose. From the bridge, he shows her to the landing bay, mess, armory, medbay, troop barracks, and common areas. Though Yaryn is listening intently as she commits the layout of the ship to memory, she can’t help but notice how Wolffe’s fellow clones give him a respectful berth, though they spare a few curious looks at Yaryn.
“Have you been with Master Plo Koon long?” she asks conversationally as he leads her from the mess to the armory.
Wolffe stands imperceptibly straighter. “I’ve served on a few missions with the general, yes.”
She nods, continuing to take nearly three steps for every one of his long strides. “And your latest mission?”
“Our last one mission was at the Nexus, a trading outpost. A Separatist controlled one at that.”
Yaryn nods, encouraging him to continue.
“Unfortunately, when we came close to taking it, the enemy general saw fit to simply destroy the place rather than let it fall into Republic hands.”
“Oh. I’m...sorry to hear that.”
Wolffe shakes his head. “We were unsuccessful in taking the post, but...there were no casualties. A welcome rarity in many battles. General Plo was very grateful everyone returned safely.”
Yaryn smiles. “That certainly sounds like him.”
As they pause at one of the observation windows, Wolffe looks her over. “You were his Padawan, yes?”
She nods enthusiastically. “Oh, yes. Master Plo taught me everything he knew. He was the one that discovered I had a knack for diplomacy. After becoming an official Jedi knight myself, he suggested to the council that I take the lead on peace talks with Separatist representatives. Before the Chancellor...you know…made such meetings with Separatists illegal.”
“Have you...have you fought before? In battle?”
Yaryn nods, her hand laying unconsciously on the lightsaber strapped to her side, and she notesh his steel gaze follows her hand. “I took part in the First battle of Geonosis. Many Jedi did.” She looks across the starfield, laying a hand on the thick glass. “I fought side by side with Master Plo. That was also the first time I met you clones.” She turns back to him. “Were you there?”
Wolffe shakes his head. “I was stationed directly on Kamino for a while. Not long after, I joined the General, however.” He crosses his arms. “This is...good. You’re not as...inexperienced as I feared.”
“Did you think Master Plo would bring someone entirely green aboard?” she says, a little brave at his light praise.
Wolffe scoffs. “The general is hardly predictable. I wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled something like that for reasons beyond my understanding.”
Yaryn laughs. “That is fair.” She glances down the hall. They are almost back to the bridge. “Well, Commander, I fear I have taken up far too much of your time. Thank you for showing me around. That means a lot.”
Wolffe nods. “You're welcome. It was…”
Yaryn smirks. “You don’t need to say ‘pleasant’ or anything like that.”
Wolffe actually quirks the side of his lip at this. “It was certainly a chit chat,” he settles on delicately.
“It certainly was. I’ll let you get back to your duties. Again, thank you very much. I’ll see you around, Commander.”
Wolffe gives her a respectful nod. “Likewise, Captain.”