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We were in a pinch, really, that was the only way that came to mind when describing the situation.
The 212th was trying to protect a city from the waves of droids that were attacking it, completely surrounded by separatist forces on all sides, range weapons in position should one of our gunships try to lift off. We were under siege, civilians in our middle depending on our perseverance.
There honestly wasn’t much we could do, we were barely able to hold the city as is, no chance of getting anyone out without reinforcements. General Koon was the closest, but his troops were currently still under heavy fire themselves. No one could tell how long it would take until help would arrive, so we made do with what we had.
It wasn’t much, our battalion was usually directly on the front, staging attacks, taking down droid factories, gathering information. Quick battles, in and out and back on the next front. Sieges weren’t our specialty and our gear showed for it.
Most of the rations were distributed among the civilians, the planet war-torn, the people poor and hungry. Scared and tucked away in our middle, while the clones and our weaponry built a wall around them.
At least the weather here was decent, the nights could be spent outside without anyone having to freeze, fresh water could be gathered from the occasional rainfall. There were some edible plants, but not much considering that most of the capital had been bombed to hell even before our arrival.
After five days it became brutally obvious. We were running out of rations.
Kenobi and I rounded our supplies up and surveyed them carefully, papers and data-pads strewn throughout our improvised head office and storage at once. If we stretched our rations, we could maybe make this work for another week, hopefully long enough for General Koon to make it here.
The civilians would have to hunger a little longer, but the soldier couldn’t be running on empty, or we’d all be dead even before we ran out of food.
Well, at least there were enough munitions for a while now. Still, the spirits were quite low, both among the natives and the troops. I couldn’t say I was happy with the situation either, but it was the best we could do.
The General was busy all day, he surveyed the front and gathered reports from all sides, helping out whenever a squad related that they were facing difficulties.
The Jedi also regularly talked to the leader of the folks, ensuring that they were doing alright, at least under the given circumstances. Always a diplomat at heart Obi-Wan offered them as many accommodations as possible, explaining the difficulty of the situation with the patience of a saint. None of them seemed to particularly like him, bearer of bad news as he often was.
The redhead also conferred with the Council and Master Koon personally at least once a day, rechecked the supplies and visited the lazaret, not to mention the countless hours he spent by my side either defending our stronghold on the city with his saber in hand or talking strategy over a holomap of the region.
I honestly didn’t think the General ever used the command tent he was given. Despite the many hours we spent together I didn’t see the man eat or rest once.
At the one and a half week mark the bags beneath his eyes were heavy and dark.
I wouldn’t exactly say I was well rested, but I made sure to catch a few minutes of shut eye every now and then and Wooley, the newbie under the medics, really only had one job on this mission, and that was to hand out ration bars to command staff like clockwork, a friendly reminder to eat and drink and rest whenever possible.
I knew for a fact that the poor shiny often looked lost, wandering around the ruined city slash military camp in order to deliver his rations to the General.
By now I was sure that the stubborn self-sacrificing idiot of a Jedi relayed mostly on the force to keep himself going.
One night Obi-Wan tried to explain, laying side by side in his bed, that he could largely sustain himself on the force if he really had to, but it was a rather short-term solution. When he reached his limit, he would crash and probably be useless for a while, force-exhausted.
Obi-Wan obviously noticed when I looked him over critically and quickly made himself hard to find.
I only saw him again on the next day, blocking blaster shots in seemingly perfect soresu. The redhead looked paler than usual, but didn’t falter once.
After the battle I stuck to his side, made sure that he couldn’t disappear on me again and cornered him.
“Obi-Wan, I want you to eat something.” I stated firmly, offering the ration bar Wooly had brought me just before the latest fight occupied our attention. The thing was crumpled in its packaging, the print long since unreadable. Probably forgotten somewhere in storage, maybe expired, but that didn’t really matter when it was this or nothing at all.
The Jedi didn’t meet my eyes when he waved me off, already focused on the updated list of our remaining supplies. The medics recently reported that they were running low on saline, both clones and civilians were dehydrating faster after it hadn’t rained in days. Everything had to be rationed.
“I’m not hungry right now my dear, it’s yours, you should eat it.” He advised instead. I caught my partners arm forcefully, taking the pad from his hand so he had to look at my face.
“No. I want you to eat it right now.” I told him, not trying to hide my anger and only slightly regretting it when the man seemed to shrink a little bit, eyes dropping to the floor.
“It’s fine, I don’t need it.” I ripped the packaging open, pressed the bar into his hand. “I don’t care, I want you to eat.”
No reaction followed, so I gripped onto the redhead’s chin, this time forcing him to look at me. Up close the bags beneath his eyes were shockingly black.
“I know for a fact that you haven’t eaten a thing since we’ve landed here, you probably haven’t slept either. And don’t tell me that force osik will sustain you. You told me how that works. You’re still hungry, you’re still tired, so don’t lie to me.” I growled and watched Obi-Wan’s expression turn bitter.
“I hate this. I hate seeing people go hungry.” He hissed back at me and I felt my own expression soften against my will. “Me too.” I agreed near silent.
Of course it was hard to keep cool when confronted with crying little children who just wanted something to eat. Hunger was never pretty, but there was nothing we could do. If we gave all our rations away the troops would be too weak to protect the city long before the 104th made it here.
“But please Obi-Wan, you have to eat something, drink a little water, rest for a few minutes. We can hold out a little while without you, but we won’t win with you incapacitated. We need our General.” I told him, my grip on his face falling away and instead caressing his cheek, openly showing him the worry I felt deep within.
“Alright.” The redhead mumbled under his breath, leaning closer until our foreheads were touching in a gentle keldabe.
“But you have to understand, I will not eat my full rations. I can survive without nutrition for much longer than any human without a connection to the force.” Kenobi told me in a low voice, somewhere between a threat and a concession, so I nodded, still close enough that out breaths were intermingling, his warmth brushing against my cheek.
“That’s alright, just eat a little bit, our rations won’t last much longer anyways. Have you received word from General Koon yet?” I asked instead, watching the man I loved closely while he sank down on a crate and reluctantly munched on the dry ration bar.
“He’s still involved in the last skirmishes of his campaign, so it will take a few days still.” He explained, his entire posture resigned.
I sat next to him, offering my silent support. It wasn’t often that the General offered something of his past that wasn’t a funny anecdote of some kind, so I was quite surprised when he told me of Melida/Daan in a somber tone. Stories of young war heroes long since forgotten and swallowed by history and of hungry children and loss. It explained a lot of his personality I thought to myself, leaning closer.
After the story the ration bar was gone and Obi-Wan’s head was lolling, landing on my shoulder every once in a while, until I held him there. “It’s alright, take a nap, the comms are on, we’ll hear if there’s an emergency.” I assured him and within minutes the redhead dozed off.
Wooley seemed relieved when the General would accept a small ration on occasion and I made sure to catch him once a day too, so he had a few minutes of rest at the very least, even if it was just meditation.
Sadly General Koon was still facing difficulties on his campaign and no other unit could be dispatched either.
At the two and a half week mark every single ration was gone, every dextrose pill and glucose packet from the lazaret was distributed and every drop of water was looted. Both the troops and the civilians were starving. The casualty count was climbing rapidly.
The folks were chewing on roots and leather to stave off the hunger and the clones were copying them, sticks clenched between their teeth when they weren’t wearing their buckets, firing at droids that were circling ever closer.
Obi-Wan was faltering. His form looked sloppy, even for someone who had no idea how a lightsaber form was actually supposed to look like. His face was gaunt and pale, his words stuttered a little. He was forgetting things, at one point calling out for a trooper that had been dead for days now. Sleep deprived and exhausted, the bags under his eyes worse than ever.
He got burnt more than once, laughing it off while Scrubs patched him with bacta. Not much of that left either. There was more on the Negotiator, at least medical supplies, but no way to reach them while the separatists were beseeching us like this.
It also became apparent, that the General was losing weight quicker than the vod’e. Scrubs looked worried when I brought it up, chewing on a pen absentmindedly.
Even though he was a normal human, not genetically enhanced like the clones, Obi-Wan had the force. He’d also been eating, even if it was only a little bit, not enough to sustain him by far, but it should have offered a little buffer between mere hunger and outright starvation. Together we concluded that the Jedi was eating through his reserves faster than anticipated, he was nearing force-exhaustion. A bad sign for all of us.
Two days later the elderly were starting to die. At least it started raining at one point, everyone collecting outside with their mouths open, thirsty and tired.
By now it looked like the separatists weren’t even trying to gun us down anymore, they were just waiting for us to die on our own, which was quite the disrespect. The 212th, Obi-Wan Kenobi’s battalion would not go down without a fight.
Scrubs also reported the deaths of several injured troopers. More would follow soon if Koon didn’t arrive quickly.
More died, more civilians, more clones in the lazaret, more on the front. Children were dying.
I felt distanced from the casualty reports, couldn’t really process them as anything but numbers. Obi-Wan’s voice in the back of my head lectured me about dissociation, but the real Obi-Wan didn’t seem to have the energy to do so, he simply helped with the paperwork as best as he could.
On the last call to Master Koon he sounded desperate and the Kel’dor, in his weirdly soothing voice, assured that the 104th was close, we just had to hold out a little longer.
Kenobi sat with the children, the natives reluctantly accepting him in. He was using the force to gentle them, to sooth their hunger and pain. I wanted to admonish him, he was wasting energy he desperately needed, but I couldn’t. Not while watching the grateful expressions of the people and the soft smiles of the vod’e.
The droids attacked again, so we blocked them as best as we could. The ground was still wet from the recent rain, usually that wouldn’t disturb Obi-Wan in his graceful movement, but under these circumstances he slipped and missed.
The redhead flinched but rightened himself quickly. I called out to him, but the Jedi just shook his head shortly. “Just a graze.” He shouted back at me, concentrating on the enemy.
I had a good grasp on time, but running on empty even I couldn’t tell how long we were fighting until the sound of fighter engines roared through the sky, the grey and red markings of the wolfpack along their wings.
Finally. The reinforcements finally made it. Around us helmets went flying, vod’e were cheering, we were saved. The droids were obviously confused by this scrambling to flee, chain of command breaking apart within seconds. Useless tin cans.
I turned back to Obi-Wan, a smile on my lips, now everything would be fine.
But the Jedi’s knees were buckling, he was clutching his thighs, hunched over and gasping for breath, lightsaber stuck in the mud by his boots.
Without a single thought I called for a medic and sprinted in the redhead’s direction but wasn’t fast enough to catch him when he crumpled to the ground. I threw myself down to my knees by his side instead.
Patting his cheek harshly roused the General a little and he blinked with heavy lids, instantly trying to sit up only to drop back into unconsciousness. I screamed for a medic again, louder, harsher, feeling panic creeping up on me.
I couldn’t let my feelings get in the way, I couldn’t panic, so I thought about the situation like a scenario out of our textbooks. Check for injuries and stop a potentially lethal bleeding was a good first step, beginning at the head, ending at the toes.
The General had a nosebleed, his pupils were unfocused when I lifted his lids, but the same size. Probably not a head injury then. The Jedi was trembling slightly now, shock, cold, dehydration or a combination of all three most likely the cause.
His neck felt fine, I also couldn’t remember how he could have acquired a spinal injury, but with Obi-Wan you could never tell, especially not with how heavily he’d been relying on the force in the last days.
With quick hands I pulled his head to my lap and ripped his belt off, so I could open his tunics. Only minor burns, skin pale, ribs standing out more so than I remembered.
Obi-Wan stirred again, head lolling slightly where I placed it on my thighs. I winced, the armor couldn’t be comfortable, but at least it wasn’t as wet or cold as the ground.
I couldn’t even describe the relief I felt when both Splint and Scrubs threw themselves down next to me, quick at work, pulling Kenobi’s robes off his torso and checking over vitals. They worked around me without complaint.
“Try to keep him awake.” The head medic instructed sharply, but the General was already passed out again.
I brushed the greasy hair from his face and watched him come around only to fall back into unconsciousness several times while Scrubs set up an IV, Splint dutifully holding the bag of saline.
“I don’t have anything else to give him. Not even a damn packet of sugar.” The CMO relied looking angry while he patched the fresh wounds and checked the older ones for infection.
I nodded mutely, merely listening to the starfighters decimating the droids, my eyes fixed on the man in my lap, hand grasping the hilt of his saber tightly. I really shouldn’t be here, my job as a Commander demanded my attention, but it looked like the 212th was just done. General Koon surely had everything under control…
Obi-Wan blinked at me again, his eyes confused at first then quickly turning scared. “Cody, what’s happening?” He asked, voice barley more than a whisper, gasping for breath.
Scrubs reacted quickly, turning the General onto his side, facing away from my lap. I honestly wouldn’t have minded, Obi-Wan barely threw up more than a mouthful of bile before he was gone again.
“Scrubs, what is happening to him?” I demanded. “I think we need to sedate him. He’s physically fine, well, malnourished, dehydrated, but he’s force-exhausted. He needs to rest.” The medic told me carefully, more empathetic than I was used to hear from him.
I nodded. “Alright, sedate him. We’ll get him back to the Negotiator as soon as the airspace is clear.”
Shortly after Vigil arrived with a gurney and the General was carefully maneuvered on top of it, a scratchy wool blanket positioned to cover him and several men flanking the transport without being instructed to.
The natives watched our procession with worry in their eyes. Even though they hadn’t warmed up to the vod’e and most of them didn’t like the General either, they were concerned. At least the children looked like they cared, clinging to their parent’s ratty clothes as they were.
After the last battle the lazaret was full and Kenobi was placed just by the entrance, no one commented when I stayed glued to his side.
It wasn’t like our relationship was a secret, but we hadn’t exactly announced it to the battalion either. Well, I guessed most of the vod’e had long since assumed that we were more than friends, the other Commanders certainly liked to joke that we were the old married couple of the GAR, but we were professional above all else.
Obi-Wan was a Jedi and he’d taken the time to explain what that meant for our relationship. The republic would always come first, the force, the greater good, the people, however you’d like to call it.
The ginger empathized that he loved me in his explanation, but he couldn’t monopolize his love, he couldn’t become obsessed, never solely focused on me, and if that is what I wanted that was my right.
And even though having someone entirely for myself sounded nice, that just wasn’t the kind of person Obi-Wan was. The ginger cared deeply, he was so compassionate and that was one of many reasons I fell for him in the first place without really taking notice until it was too late.
I had the vod’e to care for, we had our jobs and standing within the GAR, it was only right that we didn’t just gravitate around each other. We had many people to take care of besides one another and that was fine.
So, our relationship had been tentatively budding, but in front of the men we were strictly professional. Until now, I thought to myself wryly, sitting besides my unconscious General while someone else ended our battle for us.
We hadn’t hugged or held hands in public, hadn’t kissed or leaned close, well, at least closer than before… And now I ruined the picture, falling into panic, holding his hand just because he had fainted.
Looking around the tent revealed several curious glances from brothers, but no one said anything, either too intimidated by my own dark gaze, or simply too tired to do something about their curiosity right now.
I accepted the benefit of the doubt for the time being, holding on to Obi-Wan’s hand silently. When Vigil came by again to check the General’s vitals and IV he offered me a cup of water, which I took gratefully after finding my own lips chapped and stomach screaming for something. The water was stale and tasted earthy, just collected rainwater, but right now that felt like a luxury.
I honestly couldn’t tell how long I spent sitting there on the floor next to the gurney. Soldiers and civilians passed by me occasionally and I didn’t pay them any mind, until someone repeatedly called my name.
Huh, I must have dozed off at one point, because suddenly General Koon was standing besides me, Wolffee and another member of his pack on either side.
Somehow Koon managed to look friendly, even with his intimidating mask in place.
“Commander Cody, I’m glad to find you well.” The Jedi Master greeted and I scrambled to my feet, saluting him. The two vod’e at his side chuckled. I sent them a glare that would have dropped a lesser warrior dead, but Wolffee only scoffed.
“Oh please, stay down, you’ve more than earned your rest.” The Kel’dor assured in a soft tone. He was one of the nice Jedi, I found myself inadvertently thinking, he was caring and soft, much like Obi-Wan. No wonder, they were good friends if I remembered correctly.
I stayed standing anyway, saluted properly and thanked the General for his help. The Master just waved me off, settling himself down in the dirt by the younger Jedi.
“Dear friend, you’ve fought well.” He rumbled to the unconscious form of his fellow council member, clawed hand softly rustling through unorderly ginger strands.
Vigil fluttered close again, offering his assistance. “General Koon, can I help with anything? Does anyone from the 104th need medical attention?” He quickly asked but was waved off as well.
“No my dear, we’re fine. I’m just looking after Obi-Wan for a little, he’s completely exhausted his resources, hasn’t he? Poor thing.” He offered up. Sometimes I forgot that the Kel’dor was apparently quite old and had in fact held most of the now accomplished Generals in his arms as mere younglings at one point.
Suddenly feeling another wave of exhaustion hit I sunk down next to both Generals again, holding onto Obi-Wan’s hand without thinking. Koon chuckled, although much softer and not teasing at all, unlike the vod’e he brought along.
“He’ll be fine in a while.” The other Jedi offered, the first real assurance anyone had been able to give me since the beginning of this insane mission.
I thanked him again. The 104th were distributing rations and other supplies. Koon told me that they’d also take over clean up, we could return to the Negotiator and then to Coruscant shortly to recuperate from our ordeal.
I was eternally grateful. It wasn’t like I couldn’t have done those things without the assistance of a General, but it felt right, to stay by Obi-Wan’s side.
We were among the first to be shuttled back out of atmosphere. More vod’e, the skeleton crew that had managed the venator in our absence, as well as the remaining medics greeted us in the hangar.
In a real medbay treating the redhead was much easier, first and foremost because of the sheer unending number of supplies on our ship. Of course they weren’t unending, in fact I knew the exact number for most things on the Negotiator because I was the one to fill out the forms, but compared to us running on nothing down there it felt like heaven.
The water pouch actually tasted fresh, the dextrose pills were disgustingly sweet, but I felt my body kick back into gear a little bit afterwards. I was handed an actual warm meal.
The General stayed unconscious for a while longer, more saline flowing into his veins and a feeding tube inserted into his nose. He wouldn’t like that, but he honestly looked too weak to do anything about it. Until that changed the tube stayed in, the medics and I agreed on that much.
When his vitals stabilized the medics weaned the sedation. I guessed that I fell asleep involuntarily again, because when I blinked the medbay was suddenly much fuller.
Lot’s of vod’e were sitting around on any surface they could find, some even on the floor, others sharing the end of a cot with a sleeping brother. Most had an IV, treating the dehydration and exhaustion quickly. The conscious troopers were munching on meal packs and ration bars, others were napping.
The cots were filled too, injured soldiers freshly patched together or simply deeply unconscious, but even though a full medbay tended to be bad, the energy in the air felt positive.
Our campaign was over, most vod’e who made it back here would survive. Kenobi was fine, or at least would be soon enough.
When I looked down Obi-Wan was already awake, talking with Boil and Gregor, both of them sitting at the foot of his mattress, crunching on a bunch of ration bars. Huh, maybe not that short of a nap…
The redhead smiled at me, offering another bar. “Good morning.” He said cheerly. “Fruit flavor.” It was Obi-Wan’s favorite flavor. Didn’t taste like actual fruit of course, but it was sweet and a little moist, not like chewing on a sandy brick, so that was nice.
“You sleep well?” I asked, still feeling a little groggy. The Jedi nodded. “Hungry?” He gestured towards the tube still in his nose. “Apparently the medics think I am not responsible enough to feed myself.”
“You’re not!” I heard someone shout from the side, definitely Anti.
“Remind me again, why are our medics so mean?” He asked with a badly hidden grin. “Well, it could be because you tend to ruin their days?” Gregor joined the conversation innocently.
Demonstratively Kenobi sank down into his pillows again, wounded ego dramatically killing him. I laughed, the sound startling several vod’e. It wasn’t a sound heard all that often, so I decided not to take offense.
Without thinking too much about it I followed my impulse and leaned down, sealing my own lips over the pouting set of my partner. Obi-Wan leaned into the kiss briefly.
Cross cursed loudly, handing a few credits over to Vigil. Splint silently did the same, although it was only a chocolate bar in his case. Vigil smiled like a tooka, it was kind of creepy, honestly.
Well, it didn’t matter. If the 212th had a betting pool about Obi-Wan’s and my relationship status so be it, none of them commented, at least not maliciously. That was good enough for us.