hello  hello !!  this  is  a  highly  selective / duo. written / canon - divergent / hc  based / hella  chill  star  wars  multi. please  have  a  look  at  the  links  below  before  following  &&  interacting,  thanks !  we’re  stoked  to  get  started  here,  and  even  more  hyped  to  write  with  you  !!!!

CARRD  w.i.p.

MEMES

DISCORD(S)  — upon  request

             There was a chuckle from helm, the trooper’s smile in his voice. “Either way, Fives is still a superior officer to us. He can still issue orders from higher up whether it’s from the Captain or the General and we’re not really in a position to ask questions.” It was true, he remembered this from talking to Echo. “The only time we can ignore orders is when they’re going to cause too many deaths on our side. That means more money on the Republic being spent to make more troopers. Keeping deaths low is the best way of handling these issues. Which is why this plan is aces.” There was a small shift, the trooper getting the bag of detonators in a more comfortable position rather than it settling in between his armor’s joints. He was grateful to have known Echo, it meant he retained some of the regulations that were in place. Some might be a little out of date, but he did know that there wouldn’t be a lot of changes to them. “You say that like I wasn’t friends with ARC trooper Echo. I know the regulations. I just need to know my part of the job.” Fingers shifting to tighten around the strap of the bag, small frown hidden. “Kix didn’t lie. He marked off all of the ones I took. He’ll tell the truth. if he was concerned about our health, he wouldn’t let us go.”

Superior officer ... right. Dogma made sure to pay close attention to all orders given from Captain and, to a lesser extent, Fives. Their orders were what kept them functional - what kept them moving when all else tried to force stop their advance. Head shook slowly, scoff filtering through bucket, hidden eye-roll remaining concealed from Hardcase. “ We shouldn’t ignore orders at all, Hardcase. What’s wrong with you ? ” While Dogma agreed that casualties needed to remain low, he didn’t exactly think there was any merit to the current orders given. Despite the fact that the orders had supposedly come from Fives, a superior officer, Dogma couldn’t help but suspect that they were orders based on bias and bias alone. “ ARC Trooper Echo never would have participated in something this reckless. I heard he knew every regulation by heart and even rewrote some of them for Torrent Company. ” A bit strange that he knew so much about a trooper no longer marching with them, but marching on ahead, but admiration filled every word. “ You know your part of the job, but I still don’t know mine - except to be your accomplice. And even if Kix knows, I highly doubt he knows every detail... which leaves me on the skrag end again. ” Bucket swayed right to left, eyes darting behind dark visors, keeping keen eye on their surroundings. “ This stunt could compromise our position. We should just go back. ” Nearly pleading now was fresh member of cobalt legion, voice the proverbial hand that tried to latch to Hardcase and tug back. Still, he relented - there was no convincing Hardcase to turn around now - they were already halfway there, if not more so.

             The trooper’s helmet rolled as he shifted to look around and make sure they were still in the clear. “The Captain agreed that it was a good idea. Fives wouldn’t give a recommendation if he didn’t run it by the captain or Kix first.” He was doing his best to make sure he was paying attention to their surroundings so he wan’t putting a shiny in more danger than necessary. His goal was to help him loosen up and get the little portion of their mission done so they could report back. “What does self preservation have to do with this? We’re technically following orders. Think about it. Recommendations aren’t always optional. If something’s recommended and we don’t do it, then something bad happens.. what do you think happens to the troopers that didn’t take the recommendations to heart?” His posture showed his smirk within, head tilting some towards the direction they were going. “Kix took inventory before we left. It’ll be fine.” A pause, the trooper double checking their surroundings. “We’re almost there.”

“ I never expected a little Twi’lek to attach to us. Especially considering the state of her planet. ” Thoughts of Numa swirled in his head, knowing the inevitable reality that would be their permanent pull from Ryloth. Although they had secured the planet, Waxer knew that things were still rough and that there was a high chance of another mission. He only hoped little sister was safe from the harmful situations that war brought. Low chuckle broke loose as eyes sparkled with mirth ; Waxer was beyond pleased that their General was as understanding as he was, knowing that Commander Cody hardly had room to argue with him. Thumb brushed over the trinket made by he and Boil, hoping to get it to Numa before their next campaign. “ Sometimes I wish I could take her places - you know, to see all the sights there are beyond Ryloth. But, I know we can’t exactly pause the war to go sight-seeing. ” He chuckled slightly. “ Not sure Boil would be up for that, either. ”

His best friend could be quite a stubborn one - possibly more stubborn than their stern Commander. Waxer listened, nodding to silently indicate he was listening, but he couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged the corner of his lips, head canting to one side as brows rose. “ The Commander has always been stern, sir. It’s not that he isn’t lenient... just that he doesn’t want us to slack off. Still, if you could convince him to let us go... I’d appreciate it. It wouldn’t be a long shore leave, I can guarantee that. ”

            “Oh, come on Dogma.” There was a laugh from modulated helmet, eyes turned to shiny brother before the older of the two shifted the bag on his back. “Yer not gonna make it in this battalion if you don’t consider loosening up a bit. Fives recommended we do it. He’s an ARC trooper, technically, he outranks us. You really going to ignore a recommendation from a higher ranking officer?” As someone that tended to like more fun than most of the brothers in arms, he didn’t see the issue.. so long as he got the kid to do the mission, who cared that he didn’t tell him preventing the flank from being attacked was part of the plan? “Besides, if you’re so concerned about it, I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. We’ll be out of the blast zone before the detonators go off.“

THE SOUNDS OF VOICES echo through the ears of ghastly dreamscape, surrounding suspended figure in masses. Monstrous mouths with jagged jaws flapping in cacophony of warnings that heighten the anxieties otherwise left unaddressed. Fear crawls up the spine, causing shivers as whimpering distress filters through lips pressing to thin line. He must scream, but jaws refuse to part to allow. No one can hear him here and he is trapped in the shadow of a presence constant, but impending. Eyes lock, heart stops, legs freeze. Brothers - faces just like his from DNA strands same and same and same - all with stares of vehement hatred. Voice fails him, pleads of his guilt and confusion warping contortion of expression on straining face. Such a middle ground. Deserving is hatred aiming from all directions and phantasmal room spins as voice whispers advisory. They must catch you. The room runs red - red as Coruscant’s armor, red as blaster wound to vod - what have I done ? He wants to run. Fox on the run. . .          BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP  - - - - - - -

Body jerks as muscles burn within armor, palm slams against alarm in instinct’s control, fingers shake audibly. Sizzling in bloodstream, heart hammering in chest, palm splays against to ensure no harm done. Marrow cracks as bones shift with reeling spine, breaths heavy in plastoid casing upon skull, hiding expression of absolute terror. Sat down is the Commander with feelings of dread and a coldness he cannot explain ; what ghosts hold me now ? Faceplate sinks into hand as eyes close, risk the mind to will into dreamscape once more, yet not quite. Toe the line between the real and fantasy. Such horrid dreams - nightmares not of mission unspoken, but of brothers and teeth, slaughter of the opposition, yet who is who ? What speaks to him through dreamscape that feels real, even in the falsehood of its wrappings ? Fox has time before he must accompany the Chancellor to various Senate meetings. Another day, another session, another headache, another nightmare.

The Jedi had such harsh lessons to be learned, if the snippets of their teachings he’d spotted were anything to reference. Their General often spoke of peaceful responses and crafted negotiation to be artistic flow in motion. Though troopers could hold no candle to the massive flame that was their commanders in battle, they too faced their own challenges. Morality questioned, decisions prompted, and detachment of a lesser degree urged by Kaminoan training procedures. To have connections to civilians was weakness ; loyal soldier more likely to bend the knee to spare those who could not fight than to sacrifice the loss of one held dear. Waxer was no stranger to the cynicism of war, for his very closest brother had once been the same. Detached from humanity in favor to operate as tin soldier. Yet, they were not templates made from metal and code ; men were they, flesh and blood, with desire to feel compassion for the only family they knew. Bond of brothers was strong, yet bond with young little one left on Ryloth quickly rose to match its severity.

“... You do, sir ? ” The surprise limited to crackle of modulator, but audible was the relief in Ghost Company’s very own Lieutenant ; one of a collective of hive as golden as armor plates draped against white plastoid. Upwards climbed reaching grasp, pulling bucket free from head, allowing clear expression of gratitude, though composure remained so as not to be overwhelmingly excited. The idea of visiting little Numa with Boil was enough incentive to continue to fight for those breakaways from battle. Helmet tucked against armored side, tension eased as Waxer regarded General with a grateful nod. “ We don’t get to see her often and with the war getting heavier, who knows when we’ll get the chance to see her again...” Or if we will. “ I don’t want her to think we forgot about her. Poor kid needs to know someone out there is fighting for her. ”

The war was unforgiving. Waxer had seen brothers rise and fall ; even first on scene, right out of the dropship, Lieutenant had watched as Separatists bolts shot them down. Specialized in their fields, trained to the bone - none of it mattered when battle raged in such uncontrolled manner. Free hand curled, sable fingers pressing beaded trinket into calloused palm. Even the thought of never seeing Numa again was enough to fuel yearning to see her again ; to give her the crafted heirloom in hopes of preserving memory of brothers once on planetside. Brothers who cherished her. Thumb idly dragged over custom decal plastered against the side of curved dome of green girl with bright smile. Little sister brought good luck to both.

    “    and what should i tell them if they do?    ”       perhaps,   it was a stupid question.  one that may warrant a raised voice and a scold.  and yet,  it was still genuine.  what he had told her to do was less than admirable for a soon to be jedi.  she knew this to be true   -    but still she believes him when he says its all apart of war,  all apart of training..   making the hard decisions.    was the twisting of her thoughts also apart of training?    she shakes the idea from her mind,  eyes trained on krell. 

    “    i’m just not sure that the council will take whatever excuse i may come up with.    ”   she adds,  trying to diffuse a potential outburst.  her innocence felt shaken,  making up excuses for her master and what he had her doing.  the padawan had a sneaking suspicion it would not improve anytime soon. 

  @prjctkamino​​​    :    “ make sure they don’t see you leave. ” [ from KRELL 8) ]    /    accepting.

WAS  SOLUTION  NOT  CRYSTAL,  the  elegant  means  to  any  prying  ears  that  lied  against  closed  doors,  bolts  in  place  as  fair  warning  of  conclusions  delivered  for  earliest  arrivals.  Padawan’s  voice  in  atoned  shrill,  a  demeanor  not  out  of  place  due  to  such  narrow  minded  influences  he  had  yet  to  RECTIFY.  May  the  crawling  years  demonstrate  the  unlawful  purity  that  had  tainted  deeper  than  the  blood  of  peace  keepers.  Boiled  eyes  glazed  below  against  young  woman,  one  kept  under  wings  of  truth  —  liberation.  Conditioning  for  the  time  to  call  their  own,  mists  surround  their  will  alike  light  kneels  in  submission  to  stygian  gravity.  Warfare  thrived  within  the  internal.

SOULLESS AND EMPTY. A mere husk of a man once loyal down to blood and bone. Thrown against the rock of memorized shores, broken down to bend at the knee by own body’s demand. For loyalty could not be changed, but bent to the will of another, even at the cost of his own. But Marshal Command was not above his station, nor was he below ; planted were the feet of a man who had been in high demand during the war, and high in demand in the end. As above, so below. Deadliest man in theory made deadlier upon tasks given. Pity that the men assigned under his current command were pale imitations to soldiers he had known. The names and faces no longer mattered, only the skill of the trigger and immaculate aim - of which none was perfected.

Cody. Such a meaningless name to Jedi scum that spat it out, foolishly letting loose familiar feeling against raging dark storm that stood as harbinger of death’s deliverance. Long ago, longer now than it truly was, shoulders touched in means of protective effort ; a man born to live, fight, and die for the sake of a General assigned. There was a time, oh such a time, when programmed notion had been less demanded and more voluntary. The late Commander would have laid down his life for the face across the expanse of their divide. Hours huddled together beneath cries of missiles searing across smokescreen sky, cascading down in fiery rain. Two-one-two’s Commander with arm held high, spine curved to protect a man respected, accepting burnt flesh over sight of General harmed. “   NO. You’re right. I’m not the enemy.   ”

“   You are, Kenobi.   ” Jedi scum.

Perhaps the core purpose for dispatch of hellish COMMANDER and his pathetic excuse for a squad ( for who better to send than the man who knew all the weakest points in muscle to push arctic knives into exposed spine ? ) , was to ensure hesitation from soft-hearted Jedi. Manipulation of the mind joined hand in hand with that of the connections severed. He had known the General far longer than any of shoddy soldiers laid slain amidst the dirt. How many times had sable hands clutched cold hilt of Jedi Master’s lightsaber, only to return it with respectful humor ? Was it not the last conscious act of a man now buried beneath the rubble of the galaxy ? Behind visors, dark eyes trailed over familiar stance. Everything about the man was achingly familiar, but the pains were forcibly pushed from forefront of mind in favor of protocol. Alas, distant memories remained echoes of most muffled voice - oh, I think you’ll be needing this, sir. A gesture, so simple and fueled with protective care - empty like the rest - why couldn’t he remember the details ? Distraction. What was that ? Bucket shook in subtle refocus. The blade’s heated glow reflected arctic blue against sleek black, drawing gaze back as aggression returned in full force. Index curled against pressurized trigger, squeezing just enough to emphasize his threatening position.

           Many  men  to  know,  but  he  was  getting  there.  He  remembered  this  mission,  this  soldier  and  his  friend,  Boil.  They  left  quite  the  mark  for  Obi-Wan,  glad  to  have  them  at  his  side  on  the  second  battle  of  Geonosis.  If  anything,  those  two  were  at  his  side  when  he  was  injured.  These  men  were  loyal,  strong,  and  honest.  Obi-Wan  was  happy  to  have  such  men  at  his  side.  Even  more  so  that  they  had  their  own  personalities.  Though  said  if  they  were  to  die  in  battle,  he  was  at  least  honored  to  know  them.

        The  general  took  what  he  was  working  on,  delicate  fingers  wrapped  around  the  edges  to  keep  it  from  falling.  He  would  move  it  in  his  palm  a  little  bit,  the  light  hitting  any  part  of  it  made  it  shimmer.  It  was  beautiful,  that  was  for  sure.  It  reminded  him  of  a  River  Stone  that  Qui-Gon  gave  him  when  he  was  first  turning  thirteen.  It  was  sensitive  to  the  Force,  an  interesting  find  on  his  Master’s  part.  However,  Obi-Wan  had  passed  the  stone  along  to  Anakin  when  he  turned  thirteen.  He  would  think  Anakin  would  do  the  same  for  Ahsoka.

          “  No  I’m  afraid  not.  I  sent  him  on  his  way  to  carry  out  a  request  for  me.  He  should  join  us  in  a  moment's  time.  ”  pale  hues  looked  over  it  carefully,  thumb  rubbed  the  front  surface  of  it  once  more.  His  amusement  was  shown  through  his  grin,  a  twinkle  within  his  eyes  at  Waxer’s  words. 

         Hearing  the  little  girl’s  name  made  the  memory  hit  him  eve  harder,  “  Yes.  Your  little  sister,  ”  his  grin  carved  into  a  soft  smile,  “  I  assume  you  are  going  to  give  this  to  her  when  you  have  your  shore  leave?  Either  way,  it’s  rather  beautiful.  I  think  she  will  enjoy  it  very  much.  ”  

        It  reminded  him  of  all  the  times  he  spent  with  his  Master.  Going  to  different  worlds,  he  would  watch  him  pick  up  random  things  he  found.  He  brought  them  back  to  the  Temple,  placing  them  in  his  room  someplace  safe.  Obi-Wan  seemed  to  pick  up  the  same  habit.  How  he  missed  his  Master  very  much.

SHEEPISH was loyal soldier as his General inspected hand-crafted trinket. Sentiment was rare in a soldier, yet not unheard of. After all, what was proof of humanity if not the presence of emotional excess bled into another ? Were they not warranted the smallest fragments of normalcy within the cage’s hold of war torn fields ? Through the smoke of explosion and silence between photon blasts, were they not entitled some semblance of content ? Ghost Company were more than spirits of the field, but sweeping gasps of a breath given soon taken. Here in an instant, gone in the next. But for little Numa, Waxer had every intention of reminding her that they were not ghosts, but lingering presences from afar ; they would come if she needed them, no matter the threat. Loyalty, as they said, meant everything to the clones.

Mention of two-one-two’s Commander caused lift in soldier’s helmet, eyes scanning the perimeter within visor’s limitation. A sigh filtered through modulator as shoulders dipped in sheepish dismay. Helpless as he seemed, he could not conceal true intent from his General. The great Jedi Master may not have known them well yet, but the process was there. In progress. “Yes, sir,” Waxer said, nodding curtly in confirmation. No denial , no hesitation ; Numa had been the one to deem them brothers ( he and Boil ), thus he deemed her sister to their persons. “I had been hoping to take Boil along with me if possible. We’ve both been working on something to give to her.” Something that had a little more of a positive reinforcement for her. Strength from two brothers to their younger sister.

Another nod was given as sable fingers splayed as open palm was offered to take the trinket back once General was done. “Thank you, sir. I thought she might get lonely sometimes. Might serve as a good reminder that we’re all out here for her.” He recalled the way such small arms had held around plastoid body, pulling close in fear of person disappearing before her very eyes. The realization that family so close had perished ; family was foreign in concept of parentage, but when it came to brothers, Waxer understood the painful sight of a spot once filled left empty.