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"Sir, you need to get over here asap." Boil's voice rings through his coms. "There's a problem with the General."
Cody kicks a pile of scrapped droid out of his way with a sigh and jogs over to see what sort of giant heap of steaming bantha poodoo his General has found himself in this time.
The precise nature of the issue isn't immediately obvious. His General is kneeling on the floor, apparently uninjured, cloak long since lost, and eyes scrunched shut. Cody glances at Boil, who gives him the hand signals for General, downwards, and Sith.
Which, yep, that would do it.
Cody steps closer to his kneeling, fallen, General and tucks a finger under his chin. Uses it to tilt his head upwards.
His General opens his eyes.
Which are a spectacularly pretty shade of gold.
They also look completely, helplessly, lost. Which Cody isn't going to allow. His General falling into a fit of self recrimination or despair is exactly what this situation doesn't need.
"Would you like us to keep the current command structure, Sir," Cody asks, all practically and polite inquiry, "or should we hold a tournament to distribute ranks?"
His General blinks at him, utterly confused.
"My apologies, Sir," Cody says, letting go of his General's chin and taking a quarter step back, clasping his hands behind him. "But I've been unable to find much information on how Sith organise their troops when the troops in question are sentient, rather than droids. The general consensus amongst the men, Sir, is that they hold a tournament with the longest lasting troopers gaining the highest ranks. We should be able to get that organised to start within the next few hours, if that's how you wish to proceed, Sir, or -" Cody cuts himself off as his General blinks at him again, and then pinches the bridge of his nose. He hides a smirk. Success. General Sith moping averted.
"Boil," Waxer asks, voice thick with suppressed excitement, "can you go grab all the waste blacks so we can make bunting? It's not a proper tournament without bunting."
"Excuse me." Cody says, turning a glare on Waxer. "But I think you'll find I'm the head minion here."
Waxer just raises his eyebrows. "Only until I take you out in the tournament."
As if that will ever happen. Still, there's something horribly warm and squirmy in Cody's chest. He has the best brothers. When they're not being awful impossible di'kuts. Absolutely no hesitation in recognising and then backing his attempt to stop their General spiraling.
"Ooooh!" Wooley squeals. "Can I be a henchman? I've always wanted to be a henchman!"
"Henchperson." Boil corrects.
"You can be a henchperson," Wooley tells him, "but I'm going to be a henchman."
Cody's General opens one golden eye to glare at him. It's an interesting mix of gratitude, resignation and exasperation. Cody's answering smirk is entirely unrepentant.
"My dear minions, henchbeings, flunkies and other assorted followers," the General starts, and Cody would like this to be recorded as the smoothest ever transition to Sithhood. He tamps down the smug pride before it can show.
"Lend me your ears." Boil mutters.
"You already have ears!" Waxer whispers back.
"I'm sure our new overlord can be persuaded to remove them for you." Wooley chirps happily.
"Are you." Cody asks, utterly flat.
"...no." Wooley sounds very disappointed by this.
The General is staring at them, eyebrows raised, arms folded.
Oops.
"Sorry Sir."
"Right then. Cody, you can continue being head minion if that's what you wish, but I'm afraid I think of you more as my right hand."
"As flattering as that is, Sir, I'm not sure 'right hand' has the same ring to it."
"Cody, you can be the plucky sidekick!" Wooly calls. Cody levels him with the flattest stare he can manage.
"Sir, can I be a lackey?" Trapper asks. "I'm not sure that minionhood suits me."
"Of course, my dear."
"Suit yourself," Longshot states, "but I'm a goon."
"Enough." Cody barks. "By the end of the day, you will all find a form in your inboxes where you can submit your preferred title. Waxer is in charge of organising challenges for positions and he will make clear how to approach him about this in due time."
"Sir! Sir!" Acee chirps, popping up out of forcedamn nowhere.
"What is it, Acee?" The General asks.
"You should make all of Ghost henchghosts!"
Cody closes his eyes in despair. He definitely should have anticipated this can of wrigglies. Worth it though, for the way his General is enjoying it.
"Oh, what a marvelous idea. Thank you for suggesting it, my dear."
--
There are of course practicalities to consider. Practicalities which Ghost are quick to identify.
"We need insignia."
"A symbol."
"A new colour scheme."
"Funding and supply routes."
"Sensible regulations."
"An evil lair."
And of course...
"You need a Sith name, Sir."
"Do not let Cody name you, Sir." Boil cuts in urgently. "He has a GAR wide ban on naming things for a reason."
"Oh I'm sure it can't be as bad as all that. And it's hardly as if we're still part of the GAR."
"Sir. Do you want to be called Darth Tea or Darth Meshla?"
The General blinks, blushes, then strokes his beard to hide a smile.
"Well," he says, "I'm sure they aren't the worst names Sith have ever had." He turns to Cody and fluffs his hair dramatically while exaggeratedly batting his eyelashes. "You think I'm pretty, Cody?"
Cody is genuinely offended.
"I'm hardly likely to miss such an obvious fact, Sir. The Kamionians did in fact decide to give us working eyes."
His General seems to be stumped by this for some reason. Point one to Cody.
"Now Sir," he says, "How do you feel about Darth Ginger?"
Boil grabs at his com and opens up the emergency channel.
"All units to the bridge!" He demands, "Cody's trying to name things!"
He hits the deck hard as Cody tackles him.
"The General's not a thing," Cody tells him, as he wrestles him down, trying to reach the com. "it doesn't count."
The General sighs, and floats the com towards himself.
"Belay that." He says into it, "but if anyone does have a good Sith name for me, I'd be delighted to hear it."
"We don't let you name Shinies." Boil points out, voice a little muffled where Cody's pressing his face into the floor.
"Technically, all formal and legal definitions of Shinies describe them as things. Also, they're not Shinies now, they're lackeys."
"We're not part of the Republic any more." The General tells them, perching on the edge of the war table and taking a handful of the bangcorn Wooley offers him. "And as head of the independent and unaffiliated state of The Negotiator," he throws a bangcorn kernel up into the air, and catches it in his mouth, "I hereby declare all clone troopers sentient, and therefore not things."
Waxer sniffs dramatically.
"Thank you, Sir, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."
Cody climbs off Boil, and nods at the General.
"I'll see you at late meal, Sir."
"Where are you going, Cody?" Wooley asks innocently.
Cody lets his evillist grin cross his face.
"To name some lackeys."
"CODY, NOOOOOOOOOO!" Boil wails, dragging himself off the floor and attempting to give chase.
--
"You still don't have a job title, my dear." The General says, eyes at maximum tooka-ness.
Cody gives him a flat look.
"Is Commander not sufficient, Sir?"
"But we're evil now Cody." Wooley whines. "You need an evil name."
"Speak for yourself." Cody tells him. "I've always been evil. Hardly my fault you failed a basic observation."
"Yes," Wooley protests, "but now we can be openly evil. More evil. Obviously evil. Your name should be a warning sign for people not to mess with you."
"If it isn't already then I've been doing something wrong."
"Come now Commander," his General says, leaning back against the console, lips pulled into a highly amused smirk. "where's your sense of the dramatic?"
Cody gives him a dry look.
"All evidence points to the fact that it was stolen, Sir, and added to the thief's own."
His General clutches a hand to his chest with a gasp.
"Who would do such a thing?"
"I couldn't possibly imagine, Sir."
"Cruel Commander Cody." Waxer muses.
"Callous Commander Cody." Boil adds.
Wooley nods approvingly.
"Alliteration is important." He tells them.
Cody sighs, resigned to his fate.
"The Cursed Commander Cody." Longshot adds with a grin.
"Vod, don't jinx it!" Trapper hisses.
"Catastrophic Commander Cody."
"Competent Commander Cody." The General joins in.
"Conquering Commander."
"Cerulean Commander."
"Boil," Cody points out. "That's a colour"
Boil deflates.
"One of the blue ones." Wooley adds with a nod.
"Capable" The General muses.
"Combative" Boil adds, with a smirk at Cody's glare.
"Cranky"
"Caffeinated"
"Correct."
Wooley pulls a face.
"The Correct Commander Cody also implies the existence of an Incorrect Commander Cody."
"Hmm, yes I can see that leading to some confusion. How about we try them all out and see what sticks?"
--
"What are you doing?" The General's voice asks from over his shoulder. Cody's long given up getting startled by the sneaky kriffer.
"Conducting a poll on colour schemes, Sir. The most popular seems to be this black and gold with blue highlights. Do you have any ideas for insignia, Sir? I'm afraid the ones suggested by the men are... not always entirely appropriate."
"Oh?"
"The men are currently referring to themselves as ASS, Sir."
The General raises his eyebrows.
"Is that so?"
"Yessir. I believe it's supposed to stand for 'the Army of the Sexiest Sith', Sir."
"Hmm." His General says, stroking his beard, golden eyes alight with mischief. "Yes, I can see how that might lead to a particular theme for the insignia."
"As you say, Sir." Cody shuffles through his pile of datapads. "The current frontrunner is a small circle enclosed by a pair of inverted parentheses, Sir." Cody hands him the relevant pad. "I'm afraid I talked the men down from using an asterisk. That had somewhat less room for interpretation, Sir."
"That's a shame, but you're right, it probably is for the best."
--
Cody's General is taping his fingers on his desk as he thinks. He has his evil Sith face on. It's exactly the same as his evil Jedi face, so Cody knows to brace for trouble.
"Would Crys be able to get us a specific holofilm to watch, if I asked?" He asks eventually.
"Of course, Sir." Cody answers carefully. "I believe illegally procuring movies is in fact highly encouraged, if not compulsory, for those of an evil persuasion."
"And some of the minions would be able to set up a projector, so we could all watch it in one of the bigger training rooms?"
"Yes, Sir." Cody confirms again.
"Lovely."
The smile on his General's face makes him want to duck and cover.
--
"Well." Cody says, absolutely unimpressed. "Blue and yellow is now the clear frontrunner in the colour scheme opinion polls, which I'm sure is a complete surprise to you, Sir. I have fielded multiple requests for sourcing squid throwers, I'm sure you've noticed the new trend of wearing blacks as dungarees, I have frankly no idea where everyone is getting eye protection from, and I'm going to beat to death the next person I hear say the word 'banana'."
"My dear," his General says, eyes glittering. Cody turns his flattest look on him. He is not going to - "what in the galaxy did the poor bananas do -"
Cody has him on the floor, arms pinned above his head, before he can finish the sentence.
Dark eyes stare up at him, a ring of gold around a sea of black.
That... is making his insides extremely pleasantly warm.
Cody smirks, lowers his head until his lips just brush his General's ear.
"Be very thankful you're my General, Sir."
His General's breath hitches.
"Does the, ah, A.S.S. have any rules against fraternisation between ranks, Commander?"
Coby pulls back slightly so he can blink innocently.
"Would you like there to be, Sir?"
"Cody"
The door to the meeting room bursts open, and Cody doesn't take his eyes off his General as several people stomp their way inside.
"Doot Do Do Daaa!"
Cody closes his eyes briefly and turns his head very slowly to face the interruption. He can feel his General snickering underneath him. Boil and Waxer are stood either side of the doorway, holding tubes of pipe to their mouths which they appear to be attempting to use as instruments by shouting down them. Wooley takes a step forwards, takes some sort of floppy black hat thing off his head, and bows deeply with lots of unnecessary flourishing.
"The bunting is ready, the matches have been drawn, and the feast lain out. Your tournament awaits you, Sir."
Cody lets go of his General and stands up, offering an arm.
"Would you do me the honour of allowing me to escort you to your seating, kind sir?"
---
Something flashes in the corner of Cody's eye, a sliver of silver, foreign in the familiar corridor. He jumps, his General following, just in time for a sharpened metal disc to spin past where their feet just were. Then they duck as another disk tries to decapitate them. It looks like 'plan L' is live then. By the time Cody's standing and looking back, all evidence of attempted murder has vanished.
"Nice work." He tells the men behind them.
"Thank you, Sir."
"May I ask what just happened?" The General asks, eyebrows as high up his forehead as they go.
"Booby traps, Sir." Boil explains.
"It's important to properly fortify an evil lair." Wooley adds solemnly.
"I see." Cody's General lights up in delight and leans forwards to inspect the mechanism. "That's particularly ingenious. Good work, men."
---
The grand tournament viewing area is a desk chair, draped in blankets, perched on the walkway overlooking one of the training rooms. His General gives them all that look that's equal parts stern and amused, and sits gracefully down as if it was a throne. He waves regally at the troopers lined up below, who promptly break out into ridiculous cheering. At least one of them swoons.
"My dear," his General says, turning to Cody, "will you accept this token of my favour?"
Cody looks at the proffered item.
"Sir, that's a hanky."
"Not used, I assure you."
His General's sly little grin really is a beautiful thing.
He sighs and takes the hanky, tying it to the shoulder of his armour.
"I shall treasure it always, Sir." He tells his General, dry as dust.
---
Cody looks up at his next opponent. His last opponent. Who appears to be the General, dressed in Shiny armour.
He makes a note to throw the fight. He really does not want to be a General.
Cody's General is good at hand-to-hand. Cody's taught him a lot over the course of the war, but he has quite a few of his own tricks as well. Enough that sparring with his General is always fun.
He sees this particular trick coming, but it's also an opportunity. As good as his General is, he isn't used to fighting in armour. He lets his General trip him, tumbles towards the floor, but he hooks his fingers around the armour on his General's thigh, slipping them into the gap between plastoid and blacks, and tugs, bringing his General down with him. Cody's back hits the floor with a thud, which is immediately followed by a second thud, his General landing on top of him, straddling his hips, both hands landing flat on Cody's chest for balance. Cody's fingers still trapped against his General's thigh.
Perfect.
Cody knows his grin is probably feral behind his helmet.
"Oh dear, Sir." He says. "It looks like you've won."
The blank helmet above him crackles with his General's sigh. His General who reaches up with one hand to tug his helmet off, copper hair floating free. Osik, but he really is a beautiful kriffer.
"Congratulations General." Cody says, only a little smug. "I believe this means we'll follow you anywhere."
"Can't get rid of us that easy, Sir!" Wooley shouts from the sidelines.
"Do you have orders, Sir?" Cody asks, still on the floor under his General, the backs of his fingers still pressing into his thigh.
"Do you know," his General muses, "I think I might quite fancy killing the Chancellor."
That... was not what Cody had been expecting. Killing the Sith had been his first guess. Or perhaps the Hutts if his General wanted a break, a change of scenery. He hadn't expected an attack on the Senate. Not that he's against it.
"Any particular reason, Sir?"
"Not as such, my dear, no. I just, I admit I find the man really quite objectionable."
Fair enough.
"The intel we get from him is absolute Osik, Sir." Boil chimes in.
"He gives me the willies, Sir." Wooley agrees.
"Yeah!" Waxer shouts, "Kriff that guy!"
"Far be it for me to judge someone else's taste, but truthfully, my dear, I'd really rather not."
"Sir!" Waxer protests, and Cody hides a chuckle. Although the movement of his chest makes him suddenly very aware of the weight of his General, still straddling his hips.
"Are you sure I can't persuade you all to drop the Sir now that we're no longer part of the GAR?" His General is adorably ridiculous when he whines.
"I'm sure we can find a suitably evil alternative, my Lord." Cody informs him.
"Cody, don't you dare!"
"Cody's in trouble!" Wooley sing songs.
"All right, clear out!" Waxer barks. "We'll leave these two di'kuts to finally get their kriffing osik together."
Cody snorts as everyone files out, leaving them on the floor in the middle of the empty training room.
"Optimistic." He comments.
"Indeed." His General agrees. "I believe we're still waiting on the datawork for the rules about fraternisation between ranks."
Cody gives a contemplative hum. "I confess, I'm leaning towards allowing it, Sir."
"Perhaps we should field a committee to decide." His General muses, that tiny, beautiful, hint of a smirk ghosting over his lips.
"That would be the most evil way forward, Sir." Cody agrees.
---
There's a highly ominous rumbling noise from up ahead. Cody sighs. Heavily. He still doesn't know what sins he committed in order to be saddled with brothers. He slides a wall panel aside, revealing a tiny cupboard, and tucks himself into it just as a massive boulder comes rolling down the corridor at speed. Where did his di'kuts even get a boulder? His General raises a hand and the boulder stops in its path.
"Sorry Sirs!" Wooley calls from somewhere far behind it. "That one kind of got away from us!"
His General looks at Cody, eyebrows raised, and eyes the tiny cupboard Cody's in. It would be just big enough to squeeze two people into, if they were pressed together. Closely.
"Did they just...?" His General asks.
"Undoubtedly, Sir." Cody confirms, resigned and annoyed. Because there is no possible way that could have been anything other than an attempt to trap them in a cupboard together.
"It's not that I'm opposed, you understand," his General starts, all warm eyes and soft smirk.
"But there are some acts where the only reasonable response is to call for retribution?" Cody finishes for him.
His General beams.
"You read my mind, my dear."
"You're the one with the dark magic," Cody points out. "If anything, you're the one reading mine."
A slow, satisfied smirk spreads across his General's face, and oh, that expression is trouble. Deep, delicious, trouble.
"Would you like me to?" He offers, all seductive intent and delightful mischief.
Cody rolls his eyes.
His General snickers, and flicks his wrist. The giant boulder starts rolling again, this time in the other direction.
"Oh kriff." Someone mutters.
"Run minions, run!" Wooley yells gleefully.
"Into the secret cupboards!" Waxer calls.
"Goons assemble!"
"Boil, that's my cupboard, ow!"
"No! Three is too many!"
"That's what your General said."
"Hey! You know Cody banned your General jokes!"
"You're gonna do so many laps, vod."
"You'll be cleaning out the lava pit with a toothbrush."
"We have a lava pit?"
Cody sighs and decides to find a route to his office that doesn't contain quite so many brothers.
"You know," his General says lightly, falling into step beside him, "I quite enjoyed the your General jokes."
"You would, Sir." Cody agrees.
--
The General stares at the war table, which is currently displaying a map of the Negotiator, and strokes his beard thoughtfully.
"The vents?" He asks.
"Have flame throwers installed, Sir."
The General hums in approval. "The garbage chutes?"
Boil pauses.
"No, we hadn't thought of those, Sir, thank you."
"Do the minions still have that pet dianoga down in the trash compactor?" Cody asks.
"They're only a baby!" Wooley protests.
"Maybe more of those spinning discs in the chutes." The General suggests. "They can double as a mincer for the rubbish."
--
Fox looks between Cody and his General. His golden-eyed General.
"Vod." Fox says.
"Fox'ika." Cody returns.
It's a shame Fox is wearing his bucket, Cody gets a lot of satisfaction from the look on his face every time Cody calls him that.
"You've been out of contact for a tenday." Fox points out.
"Oh dear me, was it as long as that." Cody General murmurs. "I imagine that probably upset some people. My apologies, Commander Fox, if that caused any inconvenience for you."
"Coms were down." Cody explains
Fox stares at him judgmentally for nearly a full minute.
"Where are you going?" Fox eventually asks.
"Oh, we just thought we'd pop in and kill the Chancellor." Cody's General admits airily.
Fox stares at them for another minute, then tilts his bucket slightly, and steps out of the way.
"Good luck with that."
He doesn't sound like he thinks they can do it. Which is stupid. Cody can definitely kill one politician. He's not even a very big one.
"There is no luck, there is only the force." He tells his stupid batchmate, and strides forwards, in step with his General, who's looking the particular shade of serene that means he's definitely Not Giggling.
---
A multitude of sniper bolts fly towards the Chancellor from the full arc of the senate dome. Beautiful shots, all of them. Cody is very proud of his men. The only way the Chancellor is surviving this is if -
The Chancellor pulls out a red laser sword and reflects the bolts, screaming about betrayal and cackling maniacally.
- that.
"Ah, well, that would be the Sith in the Senate then." Comes from beside him.
"Sir." Cody says because his General did not just. "You knew there was a Sith in the Senate and didn't think that was something that you perhaps ought to share?"
"Well, it would hardly have been wise to believe everything my Grandmaster told me, my dear. He's a Sith."
Boil appears to have run out of patience with the Sithy Chancellor bouncing about, and pulls out a rocket launcher. From ...somewhere.
Cody gives him a look.
"What?" Boil defends. "Nobody likes that guy."
"We're gonna kill him extra good." Waxer agrees, holding up a spare missile in each hand.
---
Cody looks at Wooley. Which is a mistake.
He's holding some sort of heavily adapted missile launcher. Protruding from the end of the barrel is something slimy that looks suspiciously like the head of a sea creature. Giant eyes blink at him.
Cody decides that if he ignores that, then it isn't happening.
---
"Do politicians usually explode when you shoot them?" Waxer asks curiously. Because that was a lot more explosion than could be accounted for by just the rocket launcher.
"How should I know?" Boil responds. "This is the first time I've tried it."
"Maybe we should hit another one?" Wooley suggests. "Just to be sure?"
"I mean, we are evil now." Boil agrees.
"Mm. Mas Amedda would probably be a good choice." The General suggests.
"Ooh, I've got it!" Wooley calls.
There's a distant splat, followed by a scream.
"And how are you going to get the squid back?" Cody asks.
Wooley pauses.
"Ah."
Amedda manages to detach the squid from his face and throw it away from him, squealing all the while, before longshot hits him with a normal sniper bolt.
He doesn't explode.
"Ah. Well, I guess that answers that then." The General decides. "I think it's probably safe to assume it was the Sithness that made him explode, rather than the politicianility."
"Wooley," Cody sighs, "go and get your squid, then we're making a swift retreat back to the lair before anyone realises that succession by conquest rules are currently in place."
"Aye, Sir!"
Boil freezes.
"What." He asks, over the sound of Waxer cackling.
"I'm sure you would make an excellent Chancellor, my dear, if that's what you wanted?"
"If it's all the same to you, Sir," Boil says faintly, "I'd really rather not."
"Then get your shebs back to the evil lair." Cody snaps. "We can set Fox up to take the fall."
"I'm not sure he'd thank you for that, Commander." His General says, hiding a highly entertained smirk behind his hand. Cody can tell by the way his eyes crinkle.
"Sucks to be him. Now move."
---
Cody's staring out of the viewport, hands clasped behind his back, watching the stars drift by, when familiar robes brush silently across his back, and his General tucks his chin onto Cody's shoulder.
Cody tilts his head a fraction, so that he's just leaning against him.
"What's next, Sir?" Cody asks softly, "On your list for creating Galactic chaos?"
His General chuckles, and Cody can feel the way his body moves with the sound.
"I'm afraid that's hardly deliberate, Commander."
Cody hums dubiously. His General knows full well the consequences of his actions before he does them. "If you say so, Sir."
"Hush now," his General scolds on a silent laugh. "You know, I was thinking it's past time to get rid of Grievous, then maybe the Hutts?"
"Sounds like a plan, Sir."
"But first, how easy do you think it would be to retrofit the independent state of the Negotiator with hot water showers?"
Cody hums in thought, resettling his weight slightly so that he's leaning a fraction into his General. "The goons have been submitting applications for a moat full of both lava and crocodiles, but I believe hot water showers are a compromise they're likely to accept."
His General chuckles again, and they return to staring out at the stars.
"Thank you, Cody." His General murmurs softly. Deep with meaning.
"No, Sir." Cody corrects gently. "That's all you. Our trust and respect. Our love. You earned those. By being who you are. Our regard for you, my regard for you, isn't anything special. It's just a natural, inevitable, consequence of knowing you."
His General is silent for a long, long time.
Eventually he lets out a long, slow, sigh, but there's an amused tiny to it that causes the corner of Cody's mouth to twitch up.
"I suppose I can accept that, if you'll accept that my loving you is a natural, inevitable, consequence of who you are."
"Of course, Sir." Cody agrees, and his General snorts a laugh, burying his forehead in the side of Cody's neck. Cody untangles his hands from where they were clasped behind his back, between their bodies, and pats his General's head.
"There, there, Sir. Now, that fancy nebula should be coming into view soon."