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It’s a well known rumor among the clones that the 2000’s batch had been cursed.
It's considered less of a rumor and more of a fact throughout Kamino.
Cody is pretty sure that there’s only about a handful of his batch left. Or what would technically be considered his batch. Him and another 2800 serial are practically what remains of the 2000 CC’s. The Kaminoans had called them one of the most “mixed” batches they’d ever decanted. Writing off the batch as something of a failure for the most part if it wasn’t for the fact that Cody was in fact a Marshal Commander.
He’s one of the highest ranking clones within the Grand Army of the Republic. His own Corp under him.
Still, the 2000’s were whispered about, a bit of a legend among them. A story that young clones threw around in the midnight hours on Kamino when the longnecks weren’t looking. Experimental was a word that was thrown around often when referring to the batch. As well as a number of stories regarding the 2000’s as being too brutal or vicious . He’d heard one speculation that the batch had been too close to Jango in terms of aggression and started murdering longnecks.
None of which was founded, of course.
Cody still finds great pleasure out of getting shinies fresh from Kamino that learn of his batch number, though. Their posture stiffening and body going ramrod straight as they stand to attention in front of him. The murmurs that pass between the groups as they decide if they’re going to end up dead within a few weeks or not. The shinies never bother to cross him.
Even if Cody knows that the rumors are nowhere near why most of his batch was decommissioned.
Well… mostly anyway.
The simple matter of the fact is that about eighty percent of his batch was defective, as the longnecks had put it.
Cody can’t find himself quite agreeing with that statement, but he can never completely disagree with the assessment.
There are times when he wonders when someone higher up will tell him that he is what they keep calling him back in the facilities. He waits for the comm to come in or for someone to come and escort him away like he’s some malfunctioning droid. But, the war drags on and the day never comes.
Obi-Wan is the first to start noticing something off about his commander. Or perhaps, maybe the most vocal about the whole thing. Cody’s pretty sure he’s gotten some strange looks before, but none of the vode are brave enough to say anything. Even if they’re very aware that is something off. Then again, that may also be because his brothers know better than to go tattling about something like this. Know the possible consequences. No brother wishes that on another.
Yet, the copper haired Jedi raises an eyebrow as he gazes at his commander curiously. “Cody, is there something on the ridge over there?”
Cody turns, tilting his helmet upward as he stares at the top of the ridge. Haphazardly snatching his binoculars and zooming in. Pointedly, ignoring the blue eyes on the back of his helmet. To his surprise, there is in fact what looks to be some sort of scarecrow at the top, distinctly humanoid looking. “Yes, sir, there appears to be a mock sentry of some kind.”
The Jedi beside him does something funny with the corner of his mouth and looks at the scarecrow. “Indeed, I had noticed them earlier, strange that.” As soon as Cody puts away his binoculars, though, Obi-Wan points to something in the distance. “There also appears to be some sort of abandoned speeder over here.”
Yes, the speeder… yeah.
Cody stares in the general direction of the Jedi before him, points and nods. To which, Obi-Wan actually frowns at. “Cody, I was pointing at a rock.”
Kriff
“Sorry sir, I was receiving a comm from the scouts. I was distracted.” Cody utters, tone unwavering.
Obi-Wan simply crosses his arms, a hard look crossing his face, “Are you feeling alright Commander?”
Not anymore, no.
Cody soothes his ruffled hackles, sinking himself into the cold, unfriendly waters of Kamino. “Yes General, I apologize, it won’t happen again.” He says automatically.
The Jedi before him shifts on his feet, looking as though he’s about to say something else before getting a comm himself. The topic is then dropped as they move the battalion through the canyon and move on. To which, Cody is ever grateful for.
…
Rex once had told Cody that during a mission with Skywalker and Ahsoka in some tunnels, he’d run face-first into a pipe before turning on his night vision. Cody had found it funny enough to buy the man a shot just for his troubles. Telling his vod’ika that he was in fact Cody’s favorite from then on out and not to tell Wolffe.
Currently, Cody can only think of that story as he stares down an offending hill in the distance, where he’s sure there’s a sniper. Beside him, Waxer is looking through his binoculars and scanning the terrain. “Commander, sniper spotted at three o’clock.”
The words ring in Cody’s ears as he shifts the long range rifle in his grasp.
He’s not a scout, not a great one anyway, but he’d been more qualified than the sorry remains of the troop currently stationed. He looks down the scope expectantly, desperately trying to locate the sniper that Waxer has found for him. Adjusting the range yet again and scanning down it one more time.
Vaguely he can see some sort of fuzzy dark blob in the distance, but he isn’t sure if it’s actually the commando droid or not.
These scopes need a better range, he tells himself.
He takes the shot and, miraculously enough, hits something. For a moment, Cody can breathe a sigh of relief. That is, until Waxer speaks up, “Little more to the left, sir.”
Cody can feel his teeth grinding, silently wondering if he can convince his vod’ika to maybe take the shot for him. He’s well aware that Waxer is more than qualified to be doing this. He mulls the problem around in his head a little. An idea forms in his head.
His visor clangs against the scope, the distinct ping drawing Waxer’s attention as he makes a show of it. Smacking the front of his helmet with an annoyed huff, he can see Waxer tilt his bucket to the side thoughtfully. Granted, Cody doesn’t give him too long to think of anything. “Swap, my visor’s in the way.” He orders roughly.
Luckily enough, Waxer doesn’t say anything, even if he does pause before heading to the rifle.
Cody watches him take the shot with ease.
Maybe he should go visit the armory.
…
He doesn’t go to the armory.
Nor does he admit that he can’t completely see across the bridge.
He’s taken to saying things like ‘you there’ and ‘navigator one’. Even if he feels he might be betraying his brothers a bit by calling them by something other than their names that he knows.
Worse than that, Obi-Wan has taken note of such change.
Cody may not be able to see the console at the head of the bridge outside of bright shapes and colors, but he can see the curious glances his General keeps making towards him. Assessing him, testing him, it unnerves him at the slightest, but he doesn’t let that slip through as he silently tries to memorize the shifts of the troopers on the bridge.
He’s gotten the first and second shift down pat to the point where it’s starting to quench Kenobi’s suspicions, but third and fourth are a little rough. It isn’t that that trips him up though, oh no, the problem that he’s been using basically all of his tactical reservoir of knowledge for isn’t his downfall.
It’s a kriffing ball.
Specifically, a ball made of a mass of metals that he has no idea where any of the troopers got their hands on. Cody does have enough time to notice that there is in fact something flying at him, but seeing as it’s the mess, his stupid brain takes a moment too long to think about how it’s not a threat. Because it’s very possible that this fuzzy object is nothing to worry about.
It cracks him in the helmet that he’s luckily wearing, splintering the plastoid and shattering part of the glass. His visor flying off and hitting the floor with a quiet ping.
Cody yanks the thing off and shakes his head, ridding his face of the glass, before he opens his eyes and treks forward on a warpath. Heading in the direction that he’d noticed the ball coming from. Lucky for him, he gets close enough to see the shiny clutching their foot in utter horror as they look to see a commander march on them.
The glare that Cody has mustered is enough to make any other around the trooper wither and splinter off. The silence in the mess deafening before Cody utters a sound, “Report for KP duty tomorrow.” He snarls lowly, tone too calm and even.
The shiny stares, brown eyes blown wide as he nods numbly.
Cody doesn’t spare a second glance as he turns on his heel and walks out of the mess. Keeping his steps even and his glare in place as he snatches his helmet and visor from the ground and storms out. He openly ignores the roar of chatter that erupts as soon as he leaves.
“Commander!”
Kenobi…
“General?” Cody starts, turning himself fully around and standing straighter.
Obi-Wan jogs up to him, robs flowing as he does, and Cody can’t help but watch his hair flop around, slightly disheveled. “Cody, are you alright?”
He’s peevish actually but otherwise, “Perfectly alright, General, thank you for your concern.” He nods.
There’s a soft noise that comes from the back of Kenobi’s throat, and suddenly the man’s hand is reaching out and brushing against Cody’s face. It’s all Cody can do not to freeze up at the contact, willing himself to remain still and calm. “General?” He tries.
Obi-Wan jumps at the sound of Cody’s voice and pulls back, his hand coming back bloodied. “Apologies.”
Oh.
Cody can see the small section of tinted glass now in the Jedi’s hand. Apparently some of it must have gotten wedged into his skin without him realizing. Now that the piece had been removed, though, he can’t help but feel the mild sting of it over his cheekbone.
He runs a gloved finger over the area and looks down at the wet spot that appears on the fabric. “I’m not as ‘alright’ as I thought, General, sorry for worrying you, sir.”
Obi-Wan smiles, the warmth of it overwhelming as he does, “It’s quite alright Commander, I was simply concerned is all. You must have been distracted not to notice the scrap that had been kicked.”
Yeah…
Cody wrestles with the thoughts in his head that he shouldn’t lie to a superior and comes out on top, if only because of his pride. “Of course, General, I’ve been going over some reports as of late that need my full attention.” Not a complete lie.
Kenobi tucks his hands into his robes, tilting his head at the slightest, “One does need to take a break every now and again.” He chides softly.
“Yes, I am sorry I worried you at all, sir.”
“I know Cody,” the Jedi simply states, the corner of his mouth twitching at the slightest. “Now, let’s go get a new helmet for you.”
Uh.
“That won’t be necessary, General, I’ll fetch one in the morning.” Cody tries.
Kenobi, of course, tilts his head in the slightest, hand coming up to his beard out of habit. “We’ll be on planet by 1000 tomorrow, surely you’d prefer your paint to be dry by then?”
Um. Hm. “I wasn’t going to worry about the paint, sir, I’ll get time enough to add things to a new one.”
The General’s eyes soften in the slightest, “Alright, rest well Commander.”
Cody nods, muted relief swallowing him, “Of course, General.”
…
A helmet appears at his door at approximately 0200 in the morning.
Cody is absolutely karked and he knows it.
By the skin of his teeth and the luck of the Prime he manages to get through the initial establishment of a battalion on the overgrown planet below. Luckily for him, there aren’t any attacks over the next week besides a few scouts that they dispatch quickly enough. Nothing that requires him to look past roughly six feet in front of him happens, and Cody has never been more relieved.
When he returns to the Negotiator, though, he doesn’t even stop his stride off the ship and to the armory. Where he’s greeted by none other than a tired looking clone with their hair braided neatly and piece of plastoid in hand. Each stare at each other for a few moments without moving.
“Cody.” They say, bluntly.
“Iron.” Cody replies with the same flat tone.
Both stare at each other in silence until Iron sighs, “Whatever, I’ll be back later, your helmet is in the back.”
Cody doesn’t say anything more as Iron leaves him to his work.
Iron already knows basically what’s going on, even if the other thinks it's more that Cody’s just anal about his armor and not something else entirely. Possibly because Cody has always serviced most of his armor pieces himself. With a few exceptions, of course, he is running an entire corp under him. He doesn’t have time for every single piece and issue with his kit.
Nonetheless, Cody’s armor is modified completely to his liking, maybe not as heavily modded as Rex’s own but modded enough.
Cody snatches his broken helmet from the back shelving area, turning over the cracked plastoid in his hands. It had served him well while it lasted, but seeing as the damn thing was cracked to kark he wasn’t about to mend it from that.
So, he removes the visor first, undoing the clasps and bolts keeping it in place as well as the glue to keep the weather from getting in the seams. It’s quick and easy work taking a knife to the thing and getting it off. Noting the wear and tear on the little details that’d been etched on the top.
Briefly, he considers taking the time for a touch up paint, but forgoes it for the sake of time. The regulation paint took forever to dry, and there wasn’t going to be more than a day between their next drop and now.
Once the visor is off, he moves to the new helmet, the seals fresh and glass visor still fully intact. It feels too new in his hands, the shiny plastoid glinting in the light, a contrast to his scraped to hell gauntlet that no longer catches any sort of shine. The temptation to sand blast the thing somehow lingers in his mind as he stares it down.
He barely remembers when his armor looked in good condition.
Even when he got the generation II kit, he barely remembers the week when it looked brand new.
Cody shuffles the thing in his hand as he pries at the sealant keeping the inside of the helmet in place, taking his time to undo every little crevice and screw as he does. Until, the front of the inside comes free, and he’s left with the curved glass that’s removed with ease. Unclasping the thing from the internal hud screen and freeing it into his hands.
He’d forgotten how thin the standard glass was.
He sets to work fixing that.
By the time he’s thickened it and curved it to his liking, he’s pretty sure it’s been over an hour or two. If not three.
Cody’s never exactly been trained in how to do these things, but he's certainly good at figuring them out, it’s just perfecting them that’s been his weak point. Perfectionism had always been Fox’s thing.
Still, staring down at the cooling glass before him, he’s pleased with his work, not to mention it’ll help with his little defect.
“Iron said you’d be down here.”
He does jump this time. Looking up wildly to see a minor blurry figure in the doorway, leaning against the frame.
“General, I’m sorry if you were trying to find me, I-” Cody swallows, “I must have lost track of time.”
Obi-Wan smiles, “Quite alright, I had worried you’d been locked in the med bay, Bones hadn’t seen you for your post operation assessment.”
Cody keeps himself from wincing, he knew there was something he’d forgotten. “Has everyone else been through?”
“Most of Ghost Company anyway, I hadn’t asked specifics, I’m simply the one tasked with dragging you down there.”
He resists the urge to roll his eyes, “Bones can wait, I’m waiting for this to cool.”
Obi-Wan tilts his head to the side, posture straightening. “What have you been doing?”
Uh, well.
“Fixing my helmet, sir.”
The Jedi’s mouth twitches at the title, but he doesn’t say anything as he comes closer. Inspecting the work with a careful eye as his hand lingers near his beard. “I was under the impression that Irons did most of the armor work around here. Mods and all.”
“I prefer to do it myself.”
Kenobi’s brow twitches, but it doesn’t lift as he stares at the deconstructed bucket. He stares long enough that Cody wants to sweat under the scrutiny of his eye. There’s nothing special to see here, really.
“I wasn’t aware that one had to do any sighting modifications to the helmets by hand.”
Ah, hm, there it is.
Cody’s not entirely sure if he can play dumb in this scenario or not as he runs his brain through all his options.
He could outright lie and say that the glass was simply ‘screwey,’ but frankly he can’t find it within himself to do such a thing. Plus, he’s pretty sure Obi-Wan would know and probably see that coming from a mile away.
Here’s to admitting faults.
“Typically, it’s not needed.”
The Jedi nods, not particularly bothered by the information he’s just been given. Instead, he throws a curveball, “How did you learn to make it to your needs? I thought Iron’s crew were the only fully trained armorers.”
Cody’s head spins for a moment, “I was never trained in forging… trial and error I suppose.”
Blue eyes look up with a rather wide look to them, “Full of surprises, aren’t we? I’m glad we’ll have your eyesight again, Commander.”
Apparently he hadn’t been as sneaky about his faults as he’d thought he’d been. “Of course, sir.” He adds the sir out of spite.