Chapter Text
There were a tentative knock on the door.
Rex cast a quick glance at the chronos on his desk and stifled a yawn. It was late.
Nobody except the night guard should be about. Rex himself should have been asleep hours ago, but there were always mountains of flimsiwork to be done before the too short deadline.
It was definitely to late for this to be anything good.
With a silent prayer to which ever god or force that might be listening, that nobody had blown a paint bomb in the fresher, or dared each other to run naked through the hallways again, Rex got up and opened the door.
Instead of being met with a trooper, as he had expected, Rex found himself looking down at his new commander. She had a datapad under one arm.
"Evening Rexter" she said with a quick smile and pushed her way past him and into his office, without waiting for an invention. Leaving him standing at the open door unsure of what to do.
There were no kriffing hell where this was good news. Visits from commanding officers never were. It tended to mean more work for him.
"Evening sir, can I help you with anything?" he asked.
Commander Tano’s smile faltered and she rubbed her neck. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. Instead, she took in the small office. Her gaze resting on the tiny desk and the two chairs. "Well, actually yes." she said.
Rex waited. And waited some more, as the commander seemed to struggle to find the right words. He yawned demonstrably and hoped it would speed up the process.
Finally, she sputtered: "I don't know how to write reports"
"Excuse me?"
Commander Tano sank down in the empty chair in front of the desk. "Master Skywalker told me to write a report about the battle, and I tried, but... I haven't even read one. I don't know what to write!" She crossed her arms in front of her chest and pouted.
Rex crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. "Why don't you go ask the general, then?"
Commander Tano swung her legs and looked away again. Rex waited for her to answer. "I don't want him to think I'm stupid." she said finally.
Rex rubbed his neck. He wasn't prepared for this.
Well, he was used to dealing with nervous shinies afraid of the higher ranks and he knew how to write reports. Kriff, he even knew how to teach nervous shines to write decent reports. But this wasn't a new shiney. This was a padawan commander, except…
Except she was a shiney, wasn’t she?
She was his superior, but other than that… well . She lacked both training, armour and experience, but Rex could work with that. Leaving the door open, he sat down in the chair on the other side of the desk. "When is this report due?"
She grimaced. "Tomorrow morning?" She cast a quick glance at the chronos on the desk. "Later today?"
"And you only ask now?" He would have to add time management to what he would have to teach her. It wasn’t like the general was going to teach her that. That was for sure.
She shrugged. "I tried on my own, but... it doesn't turn out right."
Rex rubbed his neck again. "Show me what you got."
She handled him her datapad. “It is quite a mess.”
Rex looked through her work. The report was really a mess of half-finished sentences and presented no clear structure. Rex pinched the bridge of his nose. He had hoped, that the report was decent and that the commander just had high expectations of her own work. But there were no such luck. This night was going to be longer than he thought. There were no way around it. The report just had to be passable in the end at least.
"Well..." he hesitated, wondering how to say it nicely. "It is not... it is not good, but you do have some fine details in here. You just need to round them of and string them together."
He put her datapad down and picked up one of his own. "Take a look at this one and then work through your own. I'll look at it again, when you think you are done."
Commander Tano nodded and grabbed the datapad, reading slowly through the old report before picking up her own again and starting to rewrite her earlier attempt.
Trusting her to do the task, Rex returned to his own flimsiwork. He might as well get something useful out of this, if he was going to stay up anyway. Every once in a while he would cast a glance at the commander as they worked. She was deeply caught up in rewriting her report, her lips slightly moving as she wrote. Now and then she would ask a question, but otherwise they worked in silence.
Quicker than Rex had expected, she slid the datapad over to him. He read through the report. It had improved a great deal, even if she still tended to skip a lot details and use improper terms and names.
"Who are you turning this in to?" Rex asked.
"Just master Skywalker, why?"
"Because if this was to the GAR administration, you would have to use our designation numbers, not our names. But the general doesn't care." He gestured to the datapad. "So this is fine." He handed it back to her. To be honest, he was exhausted and ready to accept just about anything. It had been a long day already, and Rex just wanted to turn in. And her report was a lot better than when she had begun, even if it still lacked the final touches. She was clearly a quick learner and there would be time for the rest after they had both slept.
Rex stood up and moved to the still open door. Clearly indicating that the visit was over or so he thought. The commander stayed in her seat. "Why do you have to use your numbers?"
Rex sighed. It was too late for this. The short answer would have to do. "Because it is how we are registered. The GAR files are not necessarily updated on that kind of thing." He gestured with his hand to the desk with its stacks of flimsis and datapads. Indicating that they were always behind.
The commander looked like she wanted to protest and ask more questions, but Rex interrupted her: "Let me escort you back to your room, sir"
Rex followed her back to her room in silence. When they reached her door the commander threw her arms around his waist. "Thanks for the help Rexter," she said, before letting go and leaving him standing alone and slightly bewildered. Wondering what the kriff had just happened.
He was not surprised when the general dropped her report off at his desk the next day, with the words: "Take care of this, will you?"