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“After all those years on Kamino, I never thought I’d be excited to see rain, but…”
The clone briefly lifted his chin to kiss the brown-robed Jedi that was leaning against his shoulder.
Before them stretched a vast expanse of sand dunes and sky, and between a truly torrential downpour. On any other day, Cody would have described the view from their home as a wasteland, in every sense, but the rainfall seemed to have brought Tatooine to life all at once, in a way he had not witnessed in the years since arriving at his former general’s Outer Rim outpost.
Everything had darkened a few shades, the sand and stones soaked with rainwater, and the normally near-nonexistent clouds having taken on a grayer hue, casting their shadows over the desert planet for this brief moment they would fill its troposphere. Creatures of all shapes and sizes scurried and flapped about, most savoring the rare bout of precipitation just as the two humans were, though a few seemed more inconvenienced by it than anything. The earliest rays of Tatooine’s twin sunrise were muffled by the cloud cover, bathing the Dune Sea in a warm golden glow.
“You were right. It would’ve been a shame to miss this.”
Obi-wan chuckled, the untrimmed ends of his beard tickling Cody’s cheek. “Then I’m forgiven for waking you at dawn, Commander?”
“I suppose so,” he said, accompanied by an overly theatrical yawn.
The Jedi just smiled, his eyes noticeably lingering on Cody’s breastplate.
“The sunrise is that way, cyare ,” Cody said half-jokingly, squeezing his partner’s arm where his own was wrapped around Obi-wan’s shoulders.
“Hm? Oh— oh yes, sorry…” Kenobi’s blue eyes brightened from a duller, distant state, one of the indicators Cody had learned to recognize as the Jedi reaching into the Force. His brows furrowed.
“Something the matter, Obi-wan?”
“Ah, no, everything’s alright, Cody,” the Jedi answered, shifting within the clone’s arm to stretch his neck and arms. “Just a bit tired, is all…”
“What’s on your mind, then? You know I can tell when you’re… talking to your midichlorians… or whatever.”
Obi-wan pointedly chose to ignore the latter statement for the time being, making a mental note to review some Force fundamentals with his partner later. “It’s ah— a bit sappy. Quite a lot, actually… I’m sure you wouldn’t want to—“
Cody cupped the man’s face and kissed him squarely on the lips. “If I balked at every bit of sappiness, I very much doubt I would have survived this long as your commander or partner, cyare .”
“I’m not that bad…” Kenobi whined, even as he leaned in for another kiss.
“You’ll not get a complaint out of me, General…” Cody said, happily obliging.
Obi-wan huffed between his lips, but there was little conviction behind it. “Well then, I was just thinking about— how much you— your Force presence, rather, resembled the… current lighting.”
Cody blushed faintly, as if the clone’s face was making a half-hearted attempt to match Obi-wan’s. He chided himself that he should’ve been used to Force abilities, especially those of the partner he’d fought beside for years.
Seeing Obi-wan levitate his morning caf or mind-trick a stormtrooper or shove aside a descending rockslide through sheer force of willpower— he wouldn’t have batted an eye these days. But the idea of a— his — Force presence was different somehow… A signature of his fundamental self that, even back in better times, when there were thousands of Jedi, only his dearest could see… never failed to make Marshall Commander Cody feel like a shiny fresh off Kamino, seeing their Jedi general in action for the first time.
〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️
It had been an innocent question, brought up less than a year into the Clone War, after General Kenobi had flawlessly given orders to members of none other than a new batch of shinies. Cody had learned to tell apart his brothers by picking up on the subtle differences in their mannerisms and speech patterns, but even a fellow clone such as himself would have to ask the new recruit’s names or operating numbers at least once or twice when the rookies first joined their battalion.
Obi-wan had seemed mildly confused, before a look of recognition spread across his features. It occurred to Cody that this likely wasn’t the first time he’d had to explain his Force abilities to another being. The thought put him slightly at ease.
“Every living being has a sort of… signature… in the Force, that a Force-user such as myself is able to sense, in a way.”
“And this applies to clones as well, sir?” Cody asked, listening attentively as always.
Obi-wan smiled, but the wording of Cody’s question seemed to hurt him somehow. “Yes, of course. Sentients, in particular, tend to have wholly unique presences, to the point of being easily recognizable.”
Cody nodded, intending to give his general an out to stop feeling obligated to talk to him. “Thank you, sir.”
He had been about to raise an arm in salute and take his leave when Obi-wan stopped midway through stroking his beard in thought to continue, “Would you like to know what your Force presence looks like?”
This had confused the clone. He understood the Jedi tolerating this conversation for a possible tactical advantage in the future, but the individual appearance of their signatures didn’t seem relevant, as curious as he did find himself about the topic.
Obi-wan must have noticed his commander’s hesitation, because he added “It’s alright if you don’t, I just thought since it’s something I unfortunately have little control over…”
“No.” The word came out more authoritative than Cody had intended. “I mean, I would be interested in knowing, if you’re willing, General.”
Kenobi’s smile was real this time, and Cody was glad, even if it was far beyond him as to what he could have possibly done to improve his mood.
The Jedi took a step towards him, and Cody straightened his posture impossibly further, the experience of dozens of inspections back on Kamino all that prevented him from startling when he reached out a hand towards his white-and-yellow-gold breastplate.
“Your paint job captures it better than words could,” Obi-wan said, tracing a finger along the sun ray design. “Though it sort of… glows… in the Force— like an actual sun, I suppose.”
“I—“ Cody fleetingly wished beards weren’t against regulation so that he would have something to do while he considered this new information. “I never put much thought into how I painted my armor. Only so many things I recognized would complement the 212th golden-yellow… and this one… I just liked it.”
“Interesting,” Obi-wan said, “but be assured it’s not uncommon for one’s outward presentation to reflect their inner Force presence.”
“Yes sir,” Cody replied, mainly out of habit.
Obi-wan’s smile strained again, but again he said nothing to suggest disdain towards his commander. “I do think the imagery rather suits you, Commander. A golden glow that both leads and inspires all those around it. It seems fitting for a leader of the 212th, wouldn’t you say?”
The primary, logical part of him demanded he stop skirting the edges of a couple dozen G.A.R. regulations and get back to work. The only part that mattered at the moments was far too preoccupied with processing his general ’s… praise??… to concern itself with the duties of command.
“Yes— no— I… thank you, sir,” he finally managed.
CC-2224, a nameless, faceless clone from the rainiest, dreariest planet beyond the Outer Rim, was a trio of warm, golden sun rays in the Force, a beacon of hope to all those the commander fought alongside, Force-sensitive or otherwise. His implicit need to trust his general’s judgment clashed with his flat denial of a sense of self he’d long accepted, in a way that they never had before.
And there was something else, a feeling that would take years more to fully form, let alone be comprehensible to the clone trooper. But present nonetheless.
Obi-wan had gone on to explain how each Force-user experienced someone’s aura in the Force differently, hand still idly resting on Cody’s armored chest, whose yellow markings had taken on a new significance the Jedi was as of yet blissfully unaware of.
Cody listened. And thought, for no reason in particular, about how beautiful Obi-wan Kenobi must look in the Force.
〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️
Ex-Commander Cody whistled. “You’re right, Obi-wan. That is pretty kriffing sappy.”
“Well I warned you, didn’t I?” Obi-wan replied in mock indignation, voice quickly muffled as he pointedly kissed every inch of the clone’s very obvious blushing, a task that grew exponentially as the color spread across Cody’s entire face.
Cody, momentarily disregarding his tiredness, laughed and kissed him back, the two men basking in the warm glow of each other’s presence and the steadily increasing light from a gorgeous, misty sunrise, for what could’ve been minutes or hours, for all they were aware.
The rainclouds cleared just as quickly as they had accumulated, and all Tatooine breathed a wistful sigh as desert life righted itself once more.
Cody broke their kiss into a yawn, rubbing his amber eyes. “Mhm… sorry…”
“I love you, Cody,” Obi-wan breathed, forehead briefly meeting his partner’s in a sleepy kov’nyn before pulling back, intertwining his and Cody’s fingers. He felt his own lack of sleep sink in as he tugged gently on Cody’s arm, suddenly eager to curl up in their bed for some much needed rest.
“Love you too, Obi-wan…” Cody responded with a yawn, letting himself be guided back through the doorway of their shared hut.