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By now nearly a year had gone by since the 212th was assigned to Master Jedi and General Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was a sociable person, close to the troops since the very beginning, so it wasn’t farfetched to say that most people aboard the Negotiator liked the red-haired Jedi well enough.
He called out in greeting every time he saw a familiar face, or well, force signature I was told, since we all shared a face. He knew every clone’s name, even the ones he didn’t see as often, like the techs usually buried deep inside the belly of the ship.
He freely shared stories of his personal life, the culture of the Jedi and others he knew of in his downtime. The sentiment was nice, he wanted the clones to know things of the galaxy, a sign that for him we were always more than resources to burn through. He wanted us to have a life after the war, not that we were able to think of the after much, every day was a battle to be fought and it didn’t look like the fighting would stop anytime soon.
The ginger joked around, ate with the vod’e in the mess, trained with us and worked at my side in our shared office. We were a good team, both on a battlefield and behind a desk, which was unexpectedly quite a large part of the war effort, a sheer unending number of documents and forms piling up in our office and quarters.
I couldn’t think of a reason why anybody would openly dislike him. Well, there was his pathological diplomacy, that was annoying from time to time, and the flirting he seemed to unconsciously do, which wasn’t necessarily bad, just… weird.
On occasion it was hard to tell with his sarcasm, he was a scarily good liar, not that I was any better my brothers would protest, but the point still stands. And sometimes he said inappropriate things, or at least things I thought were inappropriate for a Master Jedi, some of the troopers and Padawans had dirty mouths.
But overall, Kenobi was very professional. Even though he seemed to have no problems with differentiating between troopers he didn’t pull favorites. The General was very fair with distributing his time equally and did his jobs aboard the ship metiliciously.
Even though he cared deeply for every single individual he knew that the greater good always counted and that sacrifices were unavoidable in battle. He was just as willing to sacrifice his own life and a few months into our joint coordination of the 212th I began to realize that this scared me. Alpha-17 confirmed that this was normal, I wasn’t so sure about that though.
Kenobi even mourned our losses with us. He surprised many vod’e when they learned that he was more fluent in mando’a than most of us were, reciting the remembrances perfectly, without a hitch.
Most clones liked casual touches, apparently that had something to do with not being held enough as a child or so studies claimed. They slept close to each other, sometimes even in piles, vod’e teased and punched, pressed shoulders and thighs together, touched foreheads and brushed fingers as if it was second nature.
So naturally nobody had anything against it when Kenobi tried to establish his own form of casual closeness. A hand on a shoulder here, a pat to the back there, close combat training and squeezing himself between others even if he would’ve had more space somewhere else.
Sometimes I thought the Master Jedi too, just wanted to be held. The suspicion gained more ground whenever I saw Kenobi interact with other Jedi, especially Skywalker.
The young man and the ginger always stood close, limbs brushing and they welcomed and sent each other off with a lingering hug. With other Generals it tended to be a similar procedure, probably depending on how close they were. Even the ever stoic General Windu greeted my General with a warm embrace.
That’s when it dawned on me. The Jedi weren’t solitary creatures, much like clones they grew up in an environment filled with other Jedi. With the exception of missions most of them lived their entire lives at the temple, surrounded by others.
The General was lonely, but his professional relationship towards the troops didn’t allow him to get any closer than he already was. At least not without being invited.
It was nice to know that this man respected our boundaries so much, that he didn’t even ask for a simple embrace in fear that we’d feel pressured to follow it like an order, but it was also worrying. Not just for our General, but for all of them. They weren’t built for war, for being alone…
Sadly, interpersonal relationships weren’t exactly my forte. I was never as approachable as Bly or Gree, I wasn’t even as understanding as Bacara. Force, even Wolffee and Fox seemed more capable of understanding human emotion, although they always assured me that I understood too, I just didn’t want to.
Well, I did at least understand my brothers, I knew their emotions well enough and I cared for them, so there was some common ground between me and the General. And our professionalism and sarcasm as was lovingly pointed out by Fox in one of our calls.
Still, I didn’t really know how to approach the issue, so I decided to start simple. For months now the General was insisting that I call him Obi-Wan, until now I had refused to do so on the base of our professional relationship and our difference in status as a clone and a Master Jedi.
The ginger whipped his head around, nearly dropping his pad the first time I entered the office with a greeting and his given name on my lips. It was the warmest smile I’d ever seen.
I made sure to react welcoming to his touches, making an effort to smile, which honestly, wasn’t that hard. Kenobi was funny, especially when he whispered to me under his breath about the rude politicians or other officials we met on our missions.
We also shared a plethora of common dislikes, like the Kaminii, Jango Fett, the Chancellor, the medbay and so on, that made it easy to bond over. Really, we could both be cynical assholes, I could appreciate that in another person that wasn’t Fox, thank you very much.
So, after a while the little moments of closeness became natural, even for me, who opposing to most vod’e, wasn’t big on casual touches. I liked my space, and most knew to respect that, but I didn’t mind when Kenobi’s thigh touched mine in the mess, or when his breath tickled my neck when he leaned close over our desks to point something out.
His touch lingered when he tapped my shoulder, holding on for a second, just so we could feel the presence of each other and slowly I felt like I was beginning to understand Alpha. Even though I still thought of Obi-Wan primarily as General Kenobi, I couldn’t deny that we were friends. The redhaired Jedi was special, and if I didn’t include my countless brothers, he was really the only person I’d call a friend.
Still, I knew he was feeling lonely, keeping a polite distance from other clones on most days. That changed with the assignment on Deleth III, where we were supposed to scout for a droid factory.
It was a recon mission, no heavy battle, so we only took a small group of soldiers with us to the frozen grounds of the planet to remain unseen.
The thirty men we handpicked for the mission were all well accomplished in stealth and reconnaissance, so it really shouldn’t have been a big deal to find the factory and scout it without being noticed.
Luck was never on our side though. It looked like the separatists surrounded their factory with a minefield. The trooper who activated the first landmine was dead before he could even scream, but there was no time to mourn. No time to look for the mines either, cause the explosion instantly alarmed the entire base.
There was no way to hide our position, the only option was a hasty retreat. The two shuttles were destroyed before we could reach them and two more mines exploded beneath the feet of our men. Another two instant deaths, a third wounded so terrible that our field medic Anti could only help him out with a painkiller, a few soothing words and a quick death. Luckily a fourth trooper only had minor injuries, he'd last the sprint with us.
Not that we really knew where we were running, the shuttles had been our only chance of escape, so now the only other option was to find a place to hide and contact the Negotiator for extraction.
Obi-Wan led us to the woods, the trees high and spindly, leaves like needles. They weren’t much to hide behind, but it looked like there were no more mines hidden between their roots. That or the Jedi lead us between them without triggering any.
The ominous clanking of an entire army of droids could be heard behind us as well as the humming of their drones. We had to find a hideout quickly, or we’d be obliterated by their forces.
Waxer was calling out, pointing to the side. The Lieutenant was a veteran in the matter of reconnaissance, so he also knew how to efficiently find places to stow away and lay low for a while if needed, it was wise to follow his directions and apparently the General thought so too, breaking off his way.
For a second I thought another mine detonated when the ground shook, it took me a moment to understand that it wasn’t a landmine, but thunder vibrating through the air and shaking the earth.
Deleth was just tawing from a century long permafrost, it was well known for it’s terrible storms, so it wasn’t surprising when it started to rain, but it surely was a surprise in which masses it did.
Clones were well accustomed to rain and thunderstorms, Kamino was famous for it’s own storms and the oceans born from them, but on Deleth it took mere minutes for us to wade through what felt like a knee-deep river. If I had to guess I’d say that the frozen grounds weren’t able to absorb much of the water.
When I caught a glimpse of the General, he looked like the drops pelting his face hurt, his red hair dark and plastered to his head, much like his robes.
At least we had hope that the extreme storm would also hinder the droids in their pursuit and Waxer unerringly led our small group towards a cave. I honestly didn’t know how he spotted it in these conditions, a thorny bush with actual leaves, although they were a desaturated grey brown color, hid the entrance near perfectly. A very good hideout indeed, especially because the inside was blessedly dry after a few centimeters of incline and the bush to hold of the wind and the torrent of rain.
We all collapsed to the ground, out of breath and exhausted, muscles cramping from our sprint. The men groaned and cursed after a few minutes of silence, Anti already tending the injured troopers.
The General was back on his feet as well, shedding his heavy and dripping wet cloak, which landed on the ground with an echoing splat. The man was drenched from top to bottom, but didn’t seem to care particularly much, still running hot on adrenalin.
We also had a job to do, so I did likewise, getting to my feet and taking the helmet off. It was dark in the cave, not pitch black, but dark enough, and the air was frigid, but comms were down, so the bucket wasn’t that useful at the moment.
Together we quickly checked on the troops and inspected the cave, assessed our resources and options.
No life-threatening injuries, most were scrapes, only Cell had been injured seriously by a mine but Anti had enough supplies to treat him and everyone else for a while. The cave was clear, no hibernating animals or other unexpected dangers to avoid. Unless the rain outside would develop into an actual flood this place would be safe, but it didn’t look like the storm would end any time soon, and that probably meant no comm signal for the time being, so no extraction from Deleth either. At least the droids probably wouldn’t be able to find us in these conditions.
It looked like the biggest issue would be the cold. It wasn’t freezing or snowing, but the stone was cold and depending on how long we’d spend here and considering how wet everyone was that could be a problem.
Usually a fire wouldn’t be safe, revealing our location to the enemy, but I doubted that they’d be able to see the smoke in this storm, so we quickly gathered around a spot and laid our supplies out.
Enough burnables to last us for maybe a day and a half, but there were some dry plants in the cave we could use. Boil pointed out that we’d probably be fine if we dried our clothes by the fire and let it burn through the nights only, so we could last double the time.
We also had a few intact packs holding extra clothing and rations. It wasn’t much as we hadn’t expected to spend more then two or three days on the planet, but better than nothing.
We quickly decided that we’d form two groups, one could rest and work while the other guarded the exit, kept an eye on the storm. It looked like my brothers’ habit to sleep in piles would come in handy.
The clones had no problem seeing each other naked, well it would be weird to be ashamed in front of men who all looked the same with very few variations, but Kenobi…
I honestly had no idea what a Jedi’s clothing symbolized, all I knew was that most of them wore layers upon layers of heavy fabrics hiding their skin and so did the General.
He wore lighter robes during training, the pale skin and muscular build of his arms on display, and I also saw him shirtless before, but really only because his tunics had been ripped to shreds in a fight, or worse, when he was so injured the medics had to cut them off.
But I had never seen him naked before and I wasn’t sure he’d be as comfortable around naked skin as the vod’e were. I chewed my lip, an unseemly nervous habit while the troopers around us unstrapped their armor and passed on dry sets of blacks.
Kenobi didn’t have an extra set of robes, he didn’t wear a pack. The ginger got a few curious looks, most beings thought him an attractive human and the clones were always a curious bunch. Usually I wouldn’t hold that trait against my brothers, but right now I wanted to punch every single one eyeing the General, who until now had made no attempts to strip.
There weren’t enough dry clothes for everyone, but our armor protected most of the fabric, my own blacks were barely damp when I took the plastoid off, so I quickly saved a pair for the Jedi instead.
The troopers shared, some of them only wearing a shirt, others wearing pants. Cell’s head was pillowed on dry fabric as well, our only medic wearing a full set on the insistence of several vod’e.
A fire was burning, a guard rotation established, rations distributed while a group of clones discussed the issue of getting the communications back up.
I was currently standing at the entrance of the cave, once again checking out the conditions outside, but it was quickly getting dark, the rain still going strong, and the redhead was still dripping water, checking on the men and their work.
I guessed a few clones pointed the fact out, but Kenobi smiled and waved them off, insisting that he was fine, the force kept him warm and he still had things to do before he could sit by the fire to at least dry a little bit.
I shook my head, exasperate by the man’s antics and cornered him when most of the first shift went to sleep, piled together around the fire to keep warm.
Wordlessly I presented the Jedi with the set of blacks. “Oh Cody dear, I can’t take them, they’re yours.” He smiled his usual appeasing smile. I just lifted my unscared eyebrow, letting him know I called bullshit.
“Sir, are you uncomfortable with us around?” I asked him instead, for once not hiding my worry for the enigmatic General. He laughed. “Oh no, I don’t have a problem with bare skin if that’s what you’re worried about. There was a time I was undercover as a dancer, back when I was younger, you know.” He started one of his stories, and usually I’d be highly interested in hearing more about the redhead clad in a short skirt for a mission, but I knew him well enough by now to tell when he was trying to distract me.
By now the General was shivering and unable to hide it, hands buried in his wet sleeves and boots squishing.
“Take them.” I insisted more firmly this time and I felt a little thrill when the ginger obeyed, slowly peeling the wet robes from pale skin. I didn’t stare or at least I hope I didn’t, but his body was so different from ours. More slender even though he had strong muscles, little red dots across his arms, chest and stomach. There were scars both old and new, familiar to me as well as unheard of in all the stories the man told us of his life.
The General tapped my shoulder softly and I had the decency to look him in the eye and only in the eye when I turned towards him. He handed me his lightsaber and belt. I took them with a nod, feeling the warmth in my cheek while the Jedi bent down to take off his boots and leggings.
His hair was still damp, but he looked decidedly less cold now that he was wearing dry clothes, cheeks rosy from the cool air. Or at least I thought it was probably the cold, grateful that my dark skin disguised a blush.
“Thank you, Cody.” He said, taking his belt and weapon back, securing them around his waist. The blacks were just a little bit too big on his frame. Then the General wished me a good night, walking towards a quiet corner still slightly lit by the fire, but surely too far from it to still feel it’s warmth.
I tsked under my breath, feeling annoyed with my friend. Waxer chuckled, a knowing smile on his face and nudged me in the Jedi’s direction. I rolled my eyes at the younger clone, but went after Kenobi instead.
“Obi-Wan.” I called out to him and the redhead’s gaze shot up from his sitting position. “Aren’t you going to be cold over here? And don’t tell me that force crap again, that’s not how it works, even I know that.” I asked in a skeptical tone, holding out my hand.
It looked like the General had an internal battle going on in his brain, gaze flickering to the comfortable looking pile of sleepy vod’e and the warmth of the fire, back to my outstretched hand and then back to the ground again.
“I can’t Cody, I don’t want to intrude. I’m not going to freeze, don’t worry.” He said pleasantly, so I gave his butt a teasing kick, directing his view back to the huddle of clones.
Several of them stirred, as if feeling the General’s conflict. They opened up a space in their middle, a few of them gesturing for Obi-Wan to come closer.
The Jedi looked like he might cry, finally accepting my hand, so I led him to the troops middle. The half-asleep men cuddled close to us within seconds, the warmth of their bare skin seeping in even before the fire could warm us.
“Thank you.” Obi-Wan whispered, his hand still holding onto my own, surrounded on all sides by vod’e he smiled. It was a different smile. Not that any of the others he gifted me with were fake, but this one looked like it was the first time he was truly content since the very beginning of this war.
Both of us slept through the shift change, getting some much-needed rest out of our unexpected stay on Deleth.
The mission didn’t change much. The ginger was still mostly professional with his touches, but the troopers seemed to engage him more, the more confident ones tackling him with hugs or laying their arms across his shoulders. And I noticed that I referred to him as Obi-Wan in my private thoughts more often than not. Every once in a while, we’d fall asleep on the same desk, an embrace reminiscent of the nights spent on Deleth.