#zipquips

There's something inherently familial about being one of a few assigned caretakers for a battalion full of rowdy, accident prone men. It's not intrinsically parental (they're all too close to age for that), but there is a sort of older sibling connection at play. Even when you care for vode older than you.

It's no secret that Sponge feels responsible over the men of the 501st. Has always felt responsible over anyone that they had ever had to treat. Be they a tubie they'd been made to hold to both learn how to handle infants (defenseless lap children in the middle warzones was a thought that made their skin crawl and their stomach flip with anxiety) and to provide much needed skin to skin contact, unfortunate cadets going through the roughest patches of their accelerated puberty (and they still remembered how bad Tup and Dogma had smelled, and how ugly their acne riddled faces had looked, and the memory was both nostalgic and painful with one of them gone), or even some idiot ARCs doing what they shouldn't at the wrong place and wrong time (Echo had been just as much of a nuisance as Fives, but he'd at least been a pleasant conversationalist, and how much Sponge missed him sometimes... Especially seeing how erratic his twin could when he felt at a loss for what to do).

Everyone that they'd ever had to care for were their responsibility. One in millions of connections they would hold dear to them, no matter how much they could annoy them at times. How much they stressed and brought them to near tears.

That said, nothing can quite compare for what it's like to be graced with being cared for by a Jedi of general Plo Koon's caliber.

Sponge is not a fan of general Skywalker.

Has never really been fond of the too brash hot-headed Jedi, who's solution to most problems involved waving a laser sword around. Is especially not happy when it comes to how he had taught his Padawan-learner. How he had poisoned her mind with behaviors the medic considered highly appalling. And, as much as it hurt to admit, Sponge was glad she'd been able to escape his influence.

Sponge is not a fan of general Skywalker. But they are a fan of general Koon.

Especially considering the man's proclamations of caring for the clone troopers he presided over actually feel genuine. Genuine and respectful. Unlike certain poster boys with blond captains at their beck and call...

"You mustn't push yourself so hard." The Kel Dor sounds concerned, as he helps them walk across the droid and corpse littered battlefield. Their leg was broken, and there was a gash on their side that was bleeding profusely. But they'd kept going. Kept mending. Kept treating. Until the Jedi had come to their aid. Fearing for their safety when no one else had. "A healer can only heal so much before they too must be tended to..."

"I couldn't sit back and wait, sir." They bow their head respectfully. Their tone softer in reverence they can barely conceal. Envy of the Wolfpack's medics fills their very core. "Not when so many needed me."

"You are a nurturing sort, I see..." And there is fondness in that deep modulated voice. They don't doubt there is fondness in his google-covered eyes as well. "I suspect your shifts must be lively with flighty sorts."

"Too many to count sir." And they can't help grin from ear to ear. The blood loss making them sloppily familiar with the general dragging them away from potential death. "No clone is fond of a doctor's visit, you see..."

They wonder if Jelly would have lived, had they both been assigned to the 104th. Maybe Plo Koon would have cared enough to search for their squadron if they had been. Maybe he would have been able to save Sponge's ori'vod.