17’s distracted frown has become a common sight lately. Fordo can only guess its cause this time around - it could be anything from cadets not performing to standard to another report of high casualties from another pointless assault ordered by a nat-born officer. 

Whatever the reason, it doesn’t take him long to decide that someone ought to broach the subject. It’s hardly likely that 17 will decide to do it himself, so Fordo takes the initiative.

“Me’vaar ti gar?” he asks, keeping his tone casual.

“The usual.” 17 looks tired. He’ll never admit it, of course, but it just so happens that Fordo knows him better than most. You weren’t always like this.

The usual could mean any number of things. 17 isn’t keeping him in the dark deliberately, but Fordo never liked having to guess and prod for details.

“Performance scores,” his brother clarifies as if he sensed the incoming question. “They’re lower than they should be, and I’d be lying if I said I knew why.”

“New batch?” Fordo guesses.

17 shakes his head. “That’s the problem. They’re halfway through the course.”

“Have you changed anything lately?”

“Nothing that wasn’t planned for.”

“Give them some time,” Fordo advises. It’ll likely do little to placate his brother, but on the whole 17 tends to take such things better when it comes from Fordo. A nat-born or a shiny wouldn’t stand a chance.

“We haven’t got time,” 17 mutters, more to himself than Fordo. 

“If you’ve done your job, you’ve done everything you can,” Fordo says bracingly, hoping a more direct approach will resonate with 17. “The rest is up to them.”

“If they’re not up to standard, then that’s on me,” 17 says flatly. 

It’s not a matter of their lackluster performance reflecting poorly on 17, Fordo knows; it’s the difference between life and death. For all that 17 insists on separating himself from his cadets, he wouldn’t have bothered taking training detail if he didn’t care. 

“You’ll figure it out,” Fordo assures. “Or it’ll work itself out. There’s bound to be some trial and error along the way.”

17 doesn’t look convinced, but his chin dips in a nod.

You’ll see, Fordo promises, wishing he could better articulate some sort of reassurance, if 17 would tolerate it. It’s not always down to you. 

He’s always pushed himself too hard, 17 - always burdened himself with carrying the weight of Jango’s legacy as though he couldn’t entrust any of the man’s ninety-nine other sons to do the job themselves. Fordo shouldn’t count himself grateful, but he can’t deny that he would be all too happy to pass it up, given the choice.

Better you than me, ner vod.

Fordo doesn’t pretend he always understands what goes on his brother’s mind, but if he can share that burden, even temporarily… well, he’ll have upheld his end of the deal. 

______________

For all that they’re soldiers, the near-constant disquiet lurking in Vortex’s eyes is a stark reminder that there are some obstacles even Jango Fett couldn’t overcome.

Fordo prefers to have a target in front of him, himself - an enemy that has the decency to identify itself from the start. He’s never grappled with things that can’t be seen when he can avoid it; those are Jedi matters, the likes of which Fordo doesn’t have any problem ignoring so long as it’s not an imminent threat.

He doesn’t bother asking Vortex if he’s okay. In short, he’s not. His brother is fearless and cunning and strong-willed - but he’s vulnerable, too. He’s on guard far too often for one to wonder if there isn’t a reason for it.

You don’t have to protect yourself from me, Fordo wants to say. But the invitation to lower those carefully crafted shields will only drive Vortex away. It’s a complexity Fordo doesn’t fancy he’ll ever unravel, so he navigates the situation as best he can.

“I have some stuff to take care of if you want to join me,” he says. “Mission reports and the like. Nothing exciting, but I’d welcome the company.”

The answer in Vortex’s eyes is plain. The hesitation isn’t far behind. It’s almost painful, to see how clearly his brother longs to give in, only to be held back by some inhibition that isn’t entirely of his own making.

“Hey,” Fordo presses gently. This isn’t his territory at all, but if he doesn’t try, who will? 

“You don’t have to explain anything to me if you’re not ready. But you don’t have to be alone, either.”

Vortex wavers.

“Besides, someone has to keep me on track,” he continues, opting for a route that’s kinder all around. “As Seventeen so kindly reminds me, I’ve been lagging in the paperwork department.”

Vortex’s first instinct will always be to turn to Alpha, but Fordo likes to imagine he’s a suitable alternative. He doesn’t think he’s imagining the gratitude that smooths the creases of his brother’s frown. 

It’s not quite a smile, but it tells Fordo everything Vortex doesn’t yet know how to say.

_____________

Plenty of their brothers dismiss Maze out of hand for being too uptight or too rigid, but there are times when Fordo finds his methodical manner oddly reassuring. It’s almost comical, the contrast between their respective approaches, but Maze is as steady as they come. 

“Sounds messy,” Maze opines when Fordo gives him a rundown of the situation that’s brewing in the Ryloth system.

“Got it in one.” Talking to a grainy holo of his brother isn’t half as satisfying as holding a conversation face-to-face, but Fordo takes what he can get. “Guess who’s on standby.”

“Why not send an infantry battalion?” Maze says critically. “Your squad shouldn’t be used as front-line troops.”

“Tell that to command,” Fordo says, unable to hold back a sigh. “We go where sent.”

“Go careful, though, yeah?”

“With the way things have been going this could blow over in a few days. I’m not too worried.”

“Or it could get out of hand,” Maze cautions. “I wouldn’t assume anything if I were you.”

It’s nothing Fordo hasn’t figured out for himself, but he doesn’t berate his brother for it. Maze doesn’t get too many field missions anymore; Fordo can only imagine how frustrating it must be to watch the rest of the Special Operations Brigade come and go on any number of high-risk assignments. 

“You ought to see if Zey will let you loose for a while,” he suggests. “Field ops take priority over paperwork.” 

Desk duty is a waste of Maze’s skills, too, but even Fordo knows better than to say that.

Maze’s jaw tightens. “I’m sure someone will need a new assignment soon.”

Not that they have the numbers for that; the first year of the war did a number on the commando squads. Even with the combined strength of the cross-trained ARCs and Republic commandos, they’re operating at less than half the original strength of the brigade. Fordo doesn’t see the sense in keeping Maze tied to Coruscant, and he can’t fathom why it’s so difficult for General Zey to puzzle out, either. 

“We’ll watch our backs,” Fordo promises. “You promised me a drink a while ago, remember?” 

Maze cracks a smile. “So I did.”

“I’m holding you to that. Gotta have something to keep me going out here.”

“Figures that we get sent to this sort of osik’la planet,” Vortex grumbles, shaking mud from his boots with a look of disgust.

Fordo, for his part, doesn’t seem bothered. “What exactly were you expecting when you heard jungle, ner vod?”

Alpha keeps a determinedly straight face when Vortex rounds on Fordo. Some things never change, he thinks, both exasperated and amused. Vortex could only be described as volatile even on the best of days.

“In his defense, this place isn’t all that great,” Maze remarks, ever the voice of reason.

“Ah, don’t mind him,” Alpha chips in when Fordo looks disbelieving. “He’s been cooped up at HQ for too long. Worried he’ll ruin his hairstyle or some osik.”

He dodges the incoming clod of mud with ease. Maze can play at being the level-headed one, but old habits die hard and Alpha distinctly remembers ducking a good number of makeshift projectiles that only seemed to appear when Jango’s back was turned. 

“We’ll make it up to you,” Vortex adds. “Do you prefer your nails match your armor?” His head tilts as he considers Maze, his customary brooding expression replaced with a smirk. “Then again, I’m not sure blue’s your color.” 

It’s such a departure from his usual grave intensity that the conversation stumbles to a halt. Fordo is the first to laugh; Maze levels him with a disapproving, thin-lipped stare. Vortex, entirely unrepentant, favors Alpha with a covert smile that’s gone as soon as Maze starts to turn his head.

Maze looks ready to return fire, and while it would doubtlessly be entertaining, they still have an objective to complete. Alpha resigns himself to the good-natured grumbling that’s sure to follow and interrupts with, “Are you di’kute going to spend the whole day bickering?”

He’s not surprised to see the other three are too busy sizing each other up to bother responding. Eventually, however, Fordo backs off, declaring, “You can’t argue with Vortex.” 

Vortex’s face creases in a frown as though he’s gauging whether it’s an insult or not. Maze beats him to it, muttering, “That’s what you get for being all offense, ner vod.”

There’s too much truth in it to be an insult. Predictably, Vortex nonetheless seems prepared to take it as one. Alpha once again struggles to maintain a neutral expression - he’s confident Maze has never been on the receiving end of the full force of Vortex’s temper. One of the lucky few, he thinks, too amused to be irked by their antics.

But someone has to keep them on track, so Alpha says, “Give it a rest, you lot. If we get ambushed because you’re trying to one-up each other, I’m blaming you.”

“You would,” Fordo confirms cheerfully. “Shamelessly.” 

Alpha has no choice but to reach over and cuff him roughly for that. Vortex’s nearly imperceptible shift suggests he’s more than eager to come to his aid, but Maze chooses to step in before things can escalate. 

“He’s got a point. Let’s get moving.”

__________________________

“Y’know,” Vortex says thoughtfully with a sidelong look at Maze, “you made it sound like this place was crawling with Seps, ner vod.”

“Guilty as charged,” Fordo says through a mouthful of ration bar. He gives Maze a playful nudge that nearly sends him into the mud. It’s the best they can do, Alpha reflects ruefully. It’s deal with swamp water constantly seeping in or risk exposing themselves in a less protected area; they’d opted unanimously for the former. 

Maze sighs. “Intel - ”

“There you go, then,” Alpha says, using a stick to poke half-heartedly at the fire they haven’t managed to light in the past hour. “You rely on intel too much, Maze.” 

“It wouldn’t hurt you to try it sometime,” his brother retorts. 

“Yeah, I’ll do that when I want to get my shebs handed to me by a battalion of droids…”

“Might as well turn a blind eye,” Vortex agrees. “Don’t have much to lose.”

Fordo opens his mouth to contribute, then pauses, frowning at Vortex. “Was that a joke?”

“Everyone knows intel’s a joke.”

“Not that,” Fordo says impatiently. “The blind part - was that a joke?” 

Vortex stares at him. The look on his face is almost blank, but Alpha knows better and so has to hide a smirk. Fordo, it seems, hasn’t quite caught on yet. 

“It had to be a joke,” he insists. 

Vortex merely shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That was deliberate,” Fordo appeals to Maze.

Maze raises an eyebrow. “Whatever you say, ner vod.”

“He was joking,” Fordo is still muttering several hours later. “There’s no way - ”

“Oh, lay off already,” Alpha says through a yawn. Vortex is already asleep; Alpha can’t help feeling envious, if only because it spares him Fordo’s relentless muttering. “Besides, you know no one will believe you, right?

He’s finally almost asleep when Fordo announces to everyone within earshot, “Vortex made a joke!”

“Go to sleep!”

______________________________

“ - all I’m saying is, it wouldn’t kill you to take them head on sometimes.”

“It just might kill me in the literal sense is all. But I shouldn’t worry, because it would be a quick death.”

“Now you’re getting it. Chin up, vod - it beats death by paperwork.”

“If you ask me, that qualifies as cruel and unusual punishment.”

“There’s a reason no one asked you.”

“What is wrong with the lot of you?” Alpha demands when he finally reaches the perimeter of their camp. “I can hear you from halfway across the galaxy.”

Fordo brightens. “Oh, good, you’re back.” He reaches over and hauls Alpha closer by the arm. “Settle something for us, would you?”

“I’m not agreeing to anything until I know exactly what’s going on,” Alpha says firmly. “And I hope you know how to reset a dislocated shoulder, ner vod, what with you dragging me all over.” 

“Good morning to you, too.” Fordo indicates an outline of the enemy forces sketched roughly in the dirt. “Vortex says we ought to take our chances and strike first.”

“Beats waiting for them,” Vortex opines. “They’ll get the drop on us if we hang around too long.”

“And Maze thinks we should gather more intel before we make a move,” Fordo continues, speaking over Vortex to stave off any retaliation from Maze. “Personally, I think they both have a point.”

“Well shab, good thing you aren’t indecisive,” Vortex mutters under his breath.

Fordo lifts his hands in a submissive gesture. “Someone has to be reasonable here.”

Alpha decides to observe rather than spoil the moment by relaying his findings from his latest scouting mission. He’s sure they can stand to learn a thing or two. 

Eventually, however, Maze turns to him. “What are you thinking, then?”

Alpha glances at his chrono. “Took you long enough. Fifteen minutes, to be exact.” He fixes them with the best hard stare he can muster in the circumstances. “I’ve been doing recon since oh-four-thirty - you’re welcome, by the way. So I reckon I can make your decision easier.”

“Someone inherited Kenobi’s flair for drama,” Fordo mumbles.

Alpha, utterly dumbfounded, can only glare. “I - what?” 

“Leave it to you to give us a monologue first. Makes sense, seeing as you were assigned to him for a while - ”

“You know what? Forget it,” Alpha huffs. “If you’re going to be difficult, I just won’t tell you anything. No skin off my back.”

Fordo grins. “You won’t.”

Maze sighs. “He will.”

“You’re all fair dini’la,” Vortex declares. “I’m off.”

“Where are you going?” Maze demands.

“To kill some Seps.” Vortex pushes himself to his feet, sniper rifle in hand. “You’re welcome to join me.”

Fordo stares after him. “He isn’t serious.”

“Remind me why I let you drag me into this.” 

“Because you’re such a loyal vod, of course.”

“Osik,” Vortex grumbles. “I call abuse of power.”

“Maybe, but I outrank you, so there’s nothing you can do about it,” Alpha reminds him, affecting a haughty air that he only gets away with because Vortex is one of the few people who would shamelessly smack him one should he ever develop a heightened sense of self-importance.

Vortex, never one to willingly admit defeat, mutters mutinously under his breath. 

Alpha lets it slide. When it comes down to it, there’s no one else he would rather have by his side behind enemy lines - and disputing the point would bring on a losing battle he simply doesn’t have the energy for. If Alpha is frustratingly persistent - as certain Jedi officers are wont to claim - then Vortex’s unyielding nature is downright alarming. 

“‘m surprised you didn’t pass this one off,” Vortex says with a distinct air of distaste as he takes in their surroundings. “Bit of a comedown from Coruscant, isn’t it?”

Even though Alpha could spew some osik about dedication to the greater mission of the GAR, he opts to keep his mouth shut rather than prattle on about a cause he’s long since lost faith in. 

“Everyone needs a change of pace sometimes,” he finally answers without conviction. 

“You might as well admit Maze forced this one on you and be done with it, ner vod.”

Alpha doesn’t deign to respond to that one. He’ll get his vengeance one day; in the meantime, he’s far more interested in ensuring he and his brother make it out of this swamp alive.

Which isn’t shaping up to be an easy task thus far. Droids may not be built to navigate such boggy terrain, but lately he and Vortex have had to contend with the local fauna as well. Intel is adamant that most of the wildlife is relatively harmless, but after a number of up close and personal encounters with some of the planet’s more welcoming species, Alpha is inclined to disagree. 

After the last misadventure - a night ambush by several absurdly large, likely venomous reptiles that had ultimately required some skilled knife work from Vortex and more explosives than they could afford to waste - Alpha knows better than to assume they’ll make it through the night without incident. 

He rifles through his pack in search of low-grade ordnance to place around the perimeter of their makeshift camp. They’re already running low on supplies, but he’s willing to make some sacrifices if it means avoiding an unpleasant death by a vengeful lizard. 

“If one of those lizards decides to make you its lunch, I’ll never let you live it down,” Vortex comments.

No longer surprised by Vortex’s uncanny knack for knowing precisely what is running through his mind at any given time, Alpha huffs in reply, “Go for it. I’d be dead anyways.”

“Mir’sheb.” 

“Are you going to help me or not?” 

Vortex slides down from his vantage point and slings his sniper rifle over his shoulder. He holds out his hand for a detonator, then tenses. 

“Heads up - ”

❤  - What was the moment that made you fall in love with your character?

This might be cheating because I don’t have a specific moment 

Even in the early stages of his development, I was utterly fascinated with Vortex’s character. He’s sarcastic and stubborn and determined in his own way, certainly, but he isn’t outgoing and he isn’t a natural leader. He wasn’t destined to become a legend or a hero. He had a distinct path from the very start. 

I really fell in love with him when I began to realize how complex he really is. There are a lot of layers to who he is, and they’re all vital to the whole character. He’s a soldier, of course, and a good one at that, but on some level he’s still that scared child he never quite left behind on Kamino. He doesn’t play well with others (like most Alpha ARCs) and he doesn’t want to be a leader. He struggles with his temper and his own fears - which have a greater influence on him than he cares to admit - and that anger doesn’t always serve him well. For all that he’s distant to most people, he’s a very emotional person with the social awareness of a blind duck. 

Vortex was originally created to be the villain, but he took on more of an anti-hero role all by himself. He never had the makings of a villain; he could never be the antagonist of a story. As soon as I started developing his character further, that became very clear: he was not meant to be the hero, but he was never meant to be purely evil, either. I think of him as fire: dangerous and frightening when it gets out of control, but not a bad thing in itself. 

♞  - What is your favorite brave thing that your character has ever done?

Vortex certainly has plenty of courage, and would never use it in a way that would contradict his principles or his brothers’, but at the same time, he’s very rarely in black-and-white situations, so actions that might come off as brave to some may be perceived as despicable to others.

That said, my favorite moment requires some explaining. I’ve always had a headcanon that one of the few troopers Vortex really trusts is Alpha-17. They knew each other on Kamino even though Vortex was in and out of training for the better part of ten years. Even though Vortex trusts Alpha more than he trusts pretty much anyone else, he always keeps Alpha at a distance. Eventually, however, Vortex comes clean and tells Alpha about everything the Kaminoans did to him. For someone like Vortex, this was probably one of the hardest things he’s ever done, but also one of the bravest. He tries to avoid being vulnerable in any way, so opening up to Alpha took a lot of courage.

♟ - What is your character’s greatest weakness/their weakest moment?

Vortex’s greatest weakness is definitely his fear of his own demons. For the most part, he tries to block it all out - the trauma from Kamino and the tangled emotions that come with it. He has virtually no coping mechanism besides dissociating, which is A) not healthy and B) not effective in the long run. In general, he finds it very difficult to open up to others and would rather block out the painful/traumatic memories than deliberately return to them in order to explain them to others.