#clone rituals

Alt - Clone rituals

Cody’s chestplate bears the bright golden sunbursts he dreamed of as a cadet. One lucky glimpse of the star beaming down through momentary gaps in the cloud cover on Kamino had stuck with him, inspired him so much he wore the imagery on his chest.

He hands the panel over to Fox silently, heart in his throat, receiving a pauldron in return.

This piece of armour bears the symbol of the Republic; a sword braced against a thick cog. Fox had painted it with pride upon learning he had been honoured with the position of Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard. They’d painted their armour together, surrounded by brothers and sisters and people that would not see out more than another cycle or two under the uncaring tides of war.

Cody knows how important it is that his own mark takes its place now; how this exchange is both a binding and a cleansing for Fox. The bonds of his Guard are still emblazoned in the circlets around his arms, but they all know his loyalty stops there after learning just how cruel the Republic can truly be. This promise is a moment between just the two of them, but it is an opportunity for Cody to gift Fox something greater.

He lifts his brush, dipping it into the golden orange paint he’s held onto for so long. Carefully, delicately, he wipes off the thick of it against the rim, then brings it to the edge of that brutal red cog.

Covering it takes time. Yellow is not best suited to drown out red, but Cody perseveres. There’s four coats before he’s satisfied, and the beams of sunrays are thick to ensure the central one covers the hilt of the sword.

But the mark is Cody’s. Undeniably, wonderfully Cody’s.

He sits back, a golden sun beaming bright upon Fox’s pauldron. He places his brush tenderly to the side to let it dry, never to be used again, before sliding the pauldron into the center of the table, beside the waiting chestplate.

With trembling fingers, he draws his chestplate back to him, cautious not to touch it where paint may smear.

Fox’s bond is a bird in flight. Red wings spread wide against the backdrop of Cody’s sun, highlighted by the golden pattern. Instead of covering, it joins, enhancing the glow with deep red feathers rising to glory in the sky.

Cody’s promise is catharsis. Fox’s is that together they are something greater than they are separate.