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Cody blinks and looks around. He has no idea where he is. Or how he got here. Which is suspicious. It's some sort of reactor room, but not one he recognises. He's on a walkway, looking down at a red and black zabrak. Who's pacing impatiently and glaring at an unfamiliar General trapped behind some ray shields. His own general is trapped further back. But he's young. Really young. With a little Commander braid in his hair.
Cody sighs.
This is some stupid new force-osik then.
The ray shields open, just as the zabrak lights a lightstaff. With red blades. Another Sith. Great. The unfamiliar General immediately attacks, but the shields slam shut again before Cody's Cadet General can join the fight. Cody readies his rifle and waits for an opportunity. It comes just as the Sith is about to stab the General. Two shots to the head, one to one of the hearts. The General's head is in the way of the other. Or is, until he drops to his knees, exhausted. Cody takes the fourth shot, just as the shields open again and his General runs forwards, yelling for his Master.
Cody hops down off the walkway.
"Cody?" His General asks, stopping in his tracks, the most confused Cody's ever seen him "But, you've not even been decanted yet?" And his General shouldn't recognise him if he was this young.
Cody looks around the unfamiliar place, at his General's very alive Master, who Cody knows was killed by a Sith on Naboo.
Remembers the latest Sith artefact they'd been sent to retrieve and the ominous way it glowed.
"Time travel, or dream sharing, Sir?" He asks.
"Oh." His General says with a blink. "Of course." He reaches up to stroke his beard, and frowns when it isn't there. Reaches back with a look of dawning horror, to the little hair tail on the the back of his head.
Cody makes an effort to keep his face absolutely straight, to not display the delighted amusement he's feeling, but his General just takes one look at him and sighs in resigned defeat. The Force probably snitched on him again.
"Yes, well." He says, dropping his hands and folding them into his sleeves. Very determined to not be embarrassed.
"Dream sharing, I should think." His General decides after a moment. "Given that I'm younger and you're here with me. And Master Qui-gon isn't leaping about all over the place causing trouble."
"I did wonder where you got it from, Sir." Cody responds, dry.
His General's indrawn breath pretends at deeply offended, but doesn't quite manage to hide the humour.
"Come now, my dear, I'm hardly as bad as all that."
-
Cody ducks a swipe, snarls, then Priest is flying backwards, smashing into the pristine white Kamino walls. Cody pauses and turns, because that... is not how this happened.
Behind him is his General, arm still outstretched. The dream sharing is still in effect then.
"Thanks, Sir." Cody says, and frowns at his voice. It's a while since he's been this young. "Saved me from a scar this time."
And if Cody treasures the memory of Priest flying helplessly through the air and hitting the wall with an extremely satisfying crack, that's his business.
"Is that... a trainer?" Obi-wan asks, glancing round the other Cadets.
"Priest." Cody agrees. "Used to set up fight rings with the Cadets. Until I stopped him. Permanently."
His General sucks in a breath, apparently immediately understanding exactly how bad the fight rings were. Cody can see the outrage and the protectiveness wash through him. Whoever said Jedi didn't have emotions was an idiot.
"Don't worry, Sir." Cody tells him with a fond smile. "It's handled." He lets his smile twist into a grin. "The other trainers still don't know what happened to him."
-
Cody is dancing. He's in his General's arms, and they seem to be doing some sort of slow and fancy formal dance that Cody definitely doesn't know the steps to. But it's easy enough just to follow along where his General leads. He's worked with, fought with, sparred with his General long enough to be able to read his every movement.
He looks around the room they're in. It's vast. The edges fade out into the distance. It seems to be some grand ballroom with a high ceiling and large glittering windows draped with expensive looking curtains. Other dancers spin around them. More Generals, members of the Vode, random animals. Boil dances past with some sort of giant lizard.
Cody turns back to his General, and raises his eyebrows.
His General hesitates for a second.
"To be entirely honest, Cody." He says, looking slightly bewildered. "I have no idea."
-
It's Cody's dream this time. He's lying in the feathery purple grass of a planet they'd campaigned on a few cycles ago. He'd had the passing thought that the grass looked soft, but knew he'd never have the opportunity to find out. And now here he is, in his blacks, with the sleeves and legs pushed up, lying in it. It's just as soft as he imagined. Which isn't surprising if this is his dream.
His pillow shifts, and he looks up at his General, who's sitting cross legged, Cody's head in his lap, and smiling down at him, soft.
"One of mine, this time, I think." His General says, stroking a hand over Cody's hair.
"That's strange, sir." Cody says, doesn't bother trying to stop the hint of a smirk on his lips, and raises a brow. "Because I thought it was mine."
-
Cody can feel the brush of his General's beard against his neck. The softness of his lips. He arches upwards with a gasped moan, but this isn't - it's not -
"Sir." He manages with a reasonable attempt at composure.
His General draws back a little, and Cody deliberately doesn't loosen his hold on his General's hips, fingers still digging into the soft fabric of his robes. He's sat on the war table, Cody realises. On a deserted bridge. His General stood between his thighs.
"Usually when I have these dreams," his General murmurs, grey-blue eyes meeting his. "You call me Obi-wan."
Cody cannot stop the smirk that spreads across his lips. Worth it, for the way his General's eyes drop to it, and stay there.
"You have these dreams often, Sir?" He asks, not bothering to hide his amusement.
His General draws in a slow breath.
"Cody," he says, utterly exasperated, dropping his hand from Cody's face, sliding out the one that had been tangled in his hair, keeping his head pinned back. "For the love of the force, could you please stop calling me Sir."
And... despite the good natured whine in his voice, that's a line there. As fun as it is to wind up his General, his General doesn't like being reminded that he's Cody's commanding officer. Especially not in any way where it might be considered taking advantage if it was anyone else. Never mind that the General would be utterly incapable of abusing his authority like that.
So Cody hums instead. "What should I call you, then?" He asks. "It's against regulations to call a General by their first name, and I can't call you Cyare, because that's what you call me when I have these dreams."
His General's breath stutters slightly, even as he raises his eyebrows.
"And how often do you have these dreams, Commander?"
If that's supposed to be payback for the Sirs, it's not working. 'Commander' is as much a part of his identity as 'Cody' is.
He lets his grin spread slowly over his face.
"With a reasonable frequency."
His General snorts a laugh despite himself, rolls his eyes, and Cody's been reading his General's body language for years now, so he loosens his hold, lets his General take a step back. He doesn't go anywhere though, just sits beside Cody on the war table, sides pressing together.
"I don't need to apologise for this dream then?" His General asks hesitantly, after a moment.
"I genuinely thought it was one of mine." Cody says. "It still could be."
"I hardly managed to obtain your consent."
"We both stopped when we realised what was happening." he says, then casts a glance sideways at his General. "If it helps," he says, and he can hear the suppressed mischief in his own voice. "You can have my full consent to kiss me in your dreams whenever you like."
His General groans, and falls back onto the table, covering his eyes with an arm.
"Just so we're clear, Sir," Cody starts, a little hesitantly, "we're probably not going to be kissing while conscious in dreams, are we. For all the same reasons we don't while we're awake."
His General shifts his arm away from his eyes, and looks up at Cody with a wry smile.
"That seems like the course of action we'd both be most comfortable with."
Cody loves his General. Deeply and irrecoverably. And that's just a fact that is. But he's never felt the need to let it influence his actions. Why would he?
Even without the fact that his General would never be comfortable being involved with someone under his direct command, they're in the middle of a war. They both of them have thousands of lives hanging on every decision they make. The fact that Cody loves his General is utterly unimportant.
The warmth that's curled itself into his stomach and made itself at home is something to treasure. Why would he chase more?
-
"Oh, good." His General says, sliding to a stop from where he'd been full on sprinting down the corridors of the temple. His voice is full of relief, and his anxious face smooths out into his prettiest grin. "If you're here then I'm not actually late for my astronav exam."
Cody barks out a laugh.
-
Cody squints against the brightness of twin suns.
Sand.
Everything he can see is sand. Bright and vivid. The sky an unnatural shade of blue. Wind howls around him, sand particles rattling against the armour on his legs, and he feels... empty. Alone. His armour, when he glances down, is a glaring white, stark against the inky darkness of his blacks. As if someone had ramped up the contrast in his eyes. And it's unpainted. Completely devoid of 212th gold. There's no mistaking him for a shiny though. The armour is battered and scorched, and some of the marks are old. And it's different to what he's used to. Not a phase of armour he's ever seen before.
"Cody?"
His General sounds genuinely confused to see him here, as if they haven't been sharing dreams for months now.
"Sir."
His General's robes are old. Tattered. His hair grey.
"Well now." His General murmurs. "This is... unexpected."
"Do you know where we are, Sir?"
There's a familiar glimmer of mischief in blue eyes.
"The future, my dear." His General says with a grin. "From a certain point of view."
Cody waits patiently for further clarification. His General is generally kind enough to give it, once he's gotten his mischief out of the way. Not all of the Generals do.
"It's a force vision, my dear. A possible path that the future might take."
"Sir." Cody points out. "It's a desert."
"Yes." His General agrees, apparently entirely unconcerned. "I'm afraid I've generally found that attempting to interpret them is a lesson in madness."
That would explain a lot.
Cody's inclined to agree though.
"Things either happen, or they don't, in my experience, Sir."
"Precisely." His General agrees with a smile.
-
They're sitting on a small rock in the ocean. Well, not really in the ocean. They're close enough to the shoreline that his General could jump it, carrying Cody. The water's only a few inches deep. If the tide goes out they'll be able to walk back and stay completely dry.
They both have their boots off, feet floating in the warm water. It's a soft shade of pink, and Cody's not sure if it genuinely is that colour, or if it's just reflecting the spectacular sunset lighting up the sky.
"Do you think these dreams will stop, Sir?" Cody asks.
His General drums his fingers against the rock.
"I honestly don't know, Commander." He runs a hand over his beard, keeps his eyes fixed on the painted sky. "I am sorry that you got dragged -"
Cody sighs loudly, and briefly considers pushing his di'kut of a General into the sea.
"You get dragged into my nightmares just as often as I get dragged into yours. I don't mind being there, I'm glad I'm able to help you. And it helps." Cody says, meeting his General's eye, "Having you in mine."
His General breathes out, long and slow.
"It's still not something you signed up for though."
Cody rolls his eyes.
"It's hardly a hardship, sir." He pointedly looks around at the sunset and the glittering sea. "The scenery is pretty, the absolute absence of any sort of battle droid is beautiful, and your company is tolerable."
His General sniffs.
"I'm glad you think so."
Cody shoves him with a shoulder. Lightly.
"I could be persuaded to go as high as satisfactory."
"You flatter me."
He's shoved right back.
A giant sea monster erupts from the water in front of them, mouth open and full of teeth.
"Oh for kriffs sake." His General mutters, grabbing for his lightsaber.
"Sir?" Cody asks, pulling his feet up onto the rock. "What in the galaxy are you dreaming? The water's barely deep enough to cover my ankles!"
-
Cody surveys the army of battle droids arrayed before him. They're sat on the floor, singing a Kamino specific tubie rhyme, and carefully making what looks like pies in the mud.
"I had no idea battle droids were equipped with such marvellous artistic talent." His General muses from beside him.
Cody cuts him a glance because mud pies don't seem particularly artistic to him, but follows his General's line of sight. To a droid that's sculpting quite a fancy castle in miniature. The one next to him has managed an incredibly detailed rose, which should be physically impossible given the consistency of the mud.
"Given that it's my subconscious, do you think this means I might have some artistic talent?" Cody asks. It's a fairly pointless question. He wouldn't have time to indulge even if he did. But he can't help but be curious.
"Well." His General says with a smile. "We'll have to find out, won't we."
-
Cody crashes to his knees, pulls off his bucket, and vomits into the mud beside him. He can't - he couldn't - what the kriff was - he takes a deep breath. Looks up. Catalogues his surroundings. Everything has the ultra-bright surrealness of one of his General's force visions. Cody takes another breath. That wasn't enough to have killed his General. He's pretty sure he didn't see the shot actually connect, and a fall from that height into water would be manageable for him. He's survived worse.
He thinks back to the call, and just the memory of the words sends a shudder right through him.
A splash makes Cody look up. His General is pulling himself out of the water, and heading straight towards him, concern clear in his gaze, despite what he's just done. Cody meets his eye.
"Chancellor's the Sith." He says.
His General freezes.
"There's orders." He adds. "Order 66. Kill all Jedi. I was... The Jedi were traitors. You were a traitor. Except you're not. You would never. And even a second before, I knew that. But then the order. And I had to kill you. But I couldn't, I would never, I can't, but I did."
"Cody," his General murmurs, crouching down in front of him and pulling him against his chest. "Udessi. I have you. And you didn't. I wasn't hit. It's only a vision. Only a possible future." Cody ties his breaths to his General's. Warm and alive, and soaking wet. "But the fact it is possible" his General muses, thoughtful and worried, "is concerning. You said it was quick, and triggered by the order, would you say it was in any way like mind control?"
Cody twists so he's more comfortable, lets himself sink into his General's embrace. Thinks about the question.
"One minute everything was normal." He confirms. "Then the chancellor gave the order. I was utterly convinced. You had the same place in my mind as Dooku or Grievous. No doubt, no question, nothing. And..." He hesitates. "I ordered the men to search the shoreline for you, just to be sure, but I was convinced you were dead. If they hadn't found you, I'd have left."
His General hums, and Cody can hear the thoughtful frown in his voice.
"So little faith in my abilities, my dear."
Cody huffs. Trust his General to be making jokes at a time like this. Even if it was just an automatic quip to buy him time to think.
"As soon as I came back to myself, I knew you were likely alive. I think... that's the bit that makes the least sense. Like it just... wiped all knowledge of you from my brain. Replaced it with something else. Something that wasn't true."
-
Cody looks down at the hole in his chest, spits blood to the side. Huffs, unimpressed.
"Honestly, Sir. Do you think I'd let a Sith kill me?"
He grabs the lightsaber out of the Chancellor's hands, and slices his head off.
"Good to see you're asleep finally, Sir, rather than unconscious." Cody sits himself down next to his Jedi. "War's over Sir. Fighting's stopped. There's a bill going through the senate in a tenday about our sentience that's got your fingerprints all over it. So thank you for that. And Obi-wan?" Cody's Jedi blinks up at him. "If you ever get between me and a Sith again, I'll kill you myself."
"Cody!" It's a hoarse shout of warning, and Cody sighs, annoyed, as he gets back to his feet and relights the blade. Several figures familiar from his General's other nightmares are approaching.
"Still a little delirious then, Sir?" Cody asks. Stands with a foot either side of his Jedi's torso and prepares to protect him from anything and everything. "Next time, we'll be in one of my dreams. And it'll be a nice one. Even if I have to fight the force itself for it."
-
Cody carefully doesn't look at his Jedi. Just braces his feet against a massive wave battering the tiny craft they're in, and scowls out at the ocean, arms folded.
"In my defence." He says, when he can hear his Jedi's raised eyebrows, "I was three."
His Jedi's amused silence is particularly loud.
"Bly told me that oceans were healing."
"And you believed," his Jedi says after a long, long, moment, "That he was referring to the oceans of Kamino."
"I was three."
"Developmentally or physically?" His Jedi asks, voice a perfect mild curiosity. Cody doesn't buy it for a second. His Jedi is a bastard.
"Well," Cody says, "If you get eaten, you won't have to worry about the lightning damage anymore. So, from a certain point of view, he was right."
-
"Ah, there you are." His Jedi says without opening his eyes. "How is everything?"
Cody huffs as he sits himself down next to him. They're in the room of a thousand fountains by the look of it, but not a part Cody has ever visited before.
"Everything is fine." Cody says. "Going well." He glances sideways at his Jedi. "You should learn to knit, or something. Keep your brain occupied while you recover. Wooley tells me there's a lot of strategy in knitting."
That's enough for his General to huff a half-laugh, and to slit his eyes open to look up at Cody.
Cody smiles down at him, and knows it's far too soft.
"You're officially not a General anymore," Cody tells him. Strokes a hand over his Jedi's hair. "Obi-wan." His Jedi's eyes flutter closed as he tilts his head into Cody's hand.
"That is good news." His Jedi murmurs. "The men?"
"Working on it." Cody tells him. "But it's looking promising. How's your recovery?" Healer patient confidentiality means he only knows the bare minimum.
"I should heal completely. Well, except for the scars."
-
Cody's running the familiar obstacle course, working out how to shave more off his time, when a bundle of brown robes leaps and spins past him, clearing an impossible jump. Cody's grin is sharp as he changes course and throws himself over the ledge, laughing as a familiar feeling of safety and exhilaration catches him and carries him the rest of the way. Cody only catches a flash of his Jedi's bright grin, before he's leaping away, Cody dashing to catch up. Breathless laughter echoes through the room.
They spend hours running the course, working together as seamlessly as they always have.
"Thank you, Cody." His Jedi says, once they've both collapsed into a panting, exhausted heap on the ground. "You have no idea how utterly bored I've been."
-
"So." Cody says, once he's pulled his Jedi free of the plant that's just tried to eat him, "how do you feel about revisiting that no kissing while conscious and dreaming conversation?"
"Was today not enough for you, Cyare?" His Jedi teases, with a raised eyebrow and an incredibly smug smirk.
Cody rolls his eyes.
"Of course it was." He says gently. "But you look very happy right now, and I have a very strong urge to pull you close and kiss the top of your head."
His Jedi blinks at him from where he's lying on top of him, limbs tangled together, the way they'd fallen when the plant finally let them go. Cody watches a red flush creep across pale cheek bones, before his Jedi buries his head into Cody's shoulder. Cody huffs a chuckle, tightens his arms around his Jedi's back, and presses the side of his face into copper hair.
"You're going to be the death of me, my dear." His Jedi murmurs into his neck, the now familiar scratch of his beard and the brush of lips making him shiver.
"The hypocrisy." Cody grouches with a smile.