Chapter Text
The notification arrived during a perfectly ordinary morning briefing.
Serra was half-listening to Cody outline patrol rotations when her datapad buzzed with an incoming priority message from Republic Engineering Corps. She glanced at it—standard mission support assignment, nothing unusual—and then her eyes caught the name in the personnel manifest.
Her stomach dropped through the deck.
Of course they were still using his ancient personnel photo. The one from ten years ago where he was all elbows and collarbones. Messy hair, narrow shoulders, a hint of a smile that had once made Serra lose her train of thought in the middle of load calculations. The file said CORPS ID MATCH and left reality to fend for itself.
"Commander Vey?"
She looked up to find both Cody and Obi-Wan watching her. Cody's expression was carefully neutral; Obi-Wan's eyebrows had climbed toward his hairline.
"Sorry," she said. "I—it's nothing. Continue."
Cody did not continue. He studied her face with the particular intensity of a man who had learned to read his commanding officers' microexpressions for survival purposes.
"You've gone pale," he observed.
"I'm naturally pale."
"Paler," Obi-Wan amended. "You've gone paler. Is something wrong with the message?"
Serra stared at her datapad like it had personally betrayed her. Which, in a sense, it had.
"We're receiving an engineering specialist for the Vardos relay station repair," she said slowly. "Senior Engineer Coren Tal."
She waited for the name to mean something to them. It didn't, of course. Why would it?
"Is there a problem with his qualifications?" Obi-Wan asked.
"No. His qualifications are excellent." Serra set the datapad down very carefully, as if it might explode. "He's one of the best infrastructure engineers in the Corps. We worked together on Alderaan. On Chandrila. On about six other projects during my first year in Service Corps."
They’d also spent an unreasonable number of nights tangled in narrow field cots, but that was not the sort of detail one shared in morning briefing.
Cody's eyes narrowed slightly. "Worked together."
"Yes."
"Just worked together."
Serra felt heat creep up the back of her neck. "We were... involved. Briefly. It ended. Years ago."
The silence that followed was the particular kind that suggested both men were rapidly recalculating several things at once.
"Ah," Obi-Wan said, with the careful neutrality of a diplomat who had just been handed unexpected information. "I see."
"It wasn't—" Serra made a frustrated gesture. "It was fine. He's fine. He's a good person. It just... ended badly. On his end. Not mine." She paused. "Well, also mine. But differently."
Cody's expression had gone very blank. "How badly?"
"He cried."
Another silence.
"When you ended things," Obi-Wan said slowly, "he cried."
"When I told him I liked him but I wasn't going to leave the Order for him, yes." Serra rubbed her temples. "It was... a lot. He had plans. There was a speech. He'd looked at property on Chandrila."
Cody made a small noise that might have been a cough.
"The relationship had been going on for how long at that point?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Four months."
"Four months," Cody repeated. "And he was looking at property."
"He's a planner. Very organized. It's part of what makes him good at his job." Serra sighed. "I'm not asking for anything complicated. I just—it's been three, no, four years, and I don't know if it's going to be awkward, and I'd rather you both knew in advance so if things get... strange... you can help redirect. Or intervene. Or provide a convenient excuse for me to be elsewhere."
"You want us to run interference," Obi-Wan translated.
"I want you to make sure I don't accidentally end up alone with him for extended periods while he tries to have long, earnest talks about hypothetical futures again."
Cody's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Has he contacted you since?"
"A few times. Birthday messages. Life-day cards. One longer letter when I transferred to the 212th, mostly catching me up on his projects and asking if I was still managing to ‘make space for my own happiness.’" She grimaced. "I told him I was busy and wished him well."
"And he's still holding a torch," Obi-Wan said. It wasn't quite a question.
"I don't know. Maybe he's moved on entirely. Maybe this will be completely professional and I'm worrying over nothing." She paused. "But he did specifically request this assignment when he saw my name on the mission brief, so."
"He requested it," Cody said flatly.
"Apparently."
Obi-Wan stroked his beard thoughtfully. "What sort of person are we expecting? So we know how to... manage the situation."
Serra considered the question. "Engineer. Very dedicated to his work. Spent a lot of time in the field on infrastructure projects—disaster relief, reconstruction, that sort of thing. When I knew him he was very..." She searched for the right word. "Sweet. Sincere. The kind of person who writes heartfelt letters and believes in grand romantic gestures."
"Grand romantic gestures," Cody repeated, in the tone of a man who found the concept deeply suspicious.
"He once built me a scale model of a dam we'd repaired together. Out of scrap components. It was... sweet. Very detailed."
Obi-Wan's mouth twitched. "It sounds as though he made quite an impression."
"He's just... earnest. About feelings. And I handled things poorly when I ended it. I should have been clearer from the start that I wasn't going to leave the Order, instead of letting him hope." She looked between them. "So. Advance warning delivered. Please don't let this become a thing."
"Define 'a thing,'" Cody said.
"Gossip. Speculation. Troopers asking me questions. Harla asking me questions." Serra shuddered slightly at the last one. "I just want to get through this mission professionally and then never think about it again."
"Understood," Obi-Wan said. "We'll ensure everything remains appropriately... businesslike."
"Thank you."
"Though I admit," he added, eyes crinkling, "I am mildly curious to meet the man."
"Please don't be curious. Be bored. Be completely uninterested."
"I shall endeavor to project profound indifference."
Serra shot him a look that suggested she didn't believe him for a second, gathered her datapad, and fled before either of them could ask any more questions.
After she left, Cody and Obi-Wan sat in silence for a moment.
"Well," Obi-Wan said.
"Sir."
"That was unexpected."
"Yes, sir."
Obi-Wan glanced at his commander. Cody's expression was rigidly professional, but there was a tightness around his eyes that suggested he was processing something he hadn't anticipated.
"You seem... contemplative," Obi-Wan observed mildly.
"Just thinking about the mission parameters, sir."
"Of course you are."
"The Vardos relay station has significant structural vulnerabilities. We'll need to coordinate closely with the engineering team."
"Indeed."
"I should review the technical specifications."
"Very thorough of you."
Cody's jaw flexed. "Will that be all, General?"
"For now." Obi-Wan paused. "Though I confess, I'm trying to picture the sort of man who weeps and looks at property after four months with Serra. He obviously has excellent taste... but his file photo makes him look like he could be blown away by a strong cross-breeze," he went on thoughtfully.
"Probably some desk type," Cody said. "Soft hands. Never been in the field."
"She said he worked disaster relief."
"Could still be a desk type. Plenty of bureaucrats in disaster relief."
"True." Obi-Wan's expression remained carefully neutral. "I'm sure he's perfectly ordinary."
"Bound to be, sir."