Chapter Text
“Do you really think we can’t trust them?”
It was a whisper of a question, barely even spoken aloud. Even thinking it was treasonous to the Kaminoans, but Cody’s brothers were never afraid to have these hushed conversations. Cody didn’t like it.
He never liked it when they talked about the Jedi. He didn’t like the Jedi, period. If it were up to him, he would prefer the Jedi to stay in their fancy Coruscant temple and let the clones handle the war on their own. What did the Jedi know about battle strategy? About formations? About sacrifice?
For all they supposedly preached of respect, Cody found them sorely lacking. The clones waited, and trained, and prepared for years for the Jedi to call them to arms, and when the lone Jedi finally came to collect them, he couldn’t even be bothered to speak to the men who worked so tirelessly to be prepared for the Republic’s war. He gawked at the clones like animals on display. Like lambs led to slaughter.
“They can’t expect us to fight and die for these Jedi if they’re terrible people. I know it’s our job, but I would hope to at least feel some sense of loyalty,” Fox grumbled.
“We’re loyal to each other,” Cody interjected. “That’s all that matters. We deal with the Jedi on a professional level, nothing more.”
“Kote, you can’t be serious. You’re about to spend the rest of your life serving a Jedi. Don’t you want to a least like the bugger?” Bly tossed a dagger in the air, catching it carelessly by the hilt.
“Prime told us to expect them to be pleasant. Nice. That it’s all a front and they’ll turn around to stab you in the back,” Cody argued. “They aren’t loyal to us. They don’t even know us. I trust only my brothers and myself with our lives. I’m not going to put my trust in someone who will stab me in the back if it means the difference between life and death.”
“Way to bring down the mood, vod,” Ponds groaned. “It’s our last night together, and we’re sitting around talking about silly Jetii. Here’s a thought. Let’s drink the ale we just successfully stole and enjoy each other’s company for the last time. Who even knows when we’ll kriffing see each other again. Sound good to you?”
Wolffe didn’t even dignify Ponds’ speech with a response. He just raised his glass in a salute, all the members of their batch following suit. They drank to each other. To new beginnings. And, for all but one of them, to the hope of a good Jedi, worthy of their trust and loyal to their men.
. . . . .
Cody was dreading his afternoon.
His new battalion, the 212th, was the last battalion to leave Coruscant because his new General was still recovering from an injury during the battle of Geonosis. Cody appreciated the blessing for what it was—time to settle into the venerator on his own with his men without having to worry about the authority of a commanding officer. He would take as much time away from the Jedi as he could get.
But blessings never last long. The Jedi was cleared from medical today and would be boarding their ship that afternoon. They would leave Coruscanti airspace before the cycle was up.
The halls were full of activity. Clones were milling around, cleaning and organizing the last few things still left laying around the ship. With a quick message sent to his lieutenants to gather the men for inspection, Cody shouldered his way through the halls to the landing docks.
He expected his men to be fully prepared and in perfect condition at least an hour before the Jedi’s expected arrival. No matter how he felt about the Jedi personally, it would be unacceptable to have anything less than perfection for the Jedi’s first impression. He didn’t want to immediately draw the displeasure of the Jedi.
He didn’t know much about the Jedi he had been assigned. Cody knew he was on the High Council; Cody’s Marshall Commander rank meant he outranked anyone less than a Council member. And to Cody, being on the High Council translated to being one of the twelve most pretentious assholes the Order had to offer. Only a certain type of man has what it takes to be a High Councilor and Cody could confidently say it was the type of man that represented everything he disliked about the Jedi.
He also knew his Jedi’s name was Obi-wan Kenobi. That he had fought in the wars on Melida/Daan, was a 35-year-old human man, was right-handed. That he had fought the Sith, Count Dooku, on Geonosis and had been recovering.
Apparently, he had a silver tongue. Something that made Cody even more distrustful of the man. He heard rumors of how the man makes nearly everyone he meets fall in love with his charisma and wit. Ten hells, the ship was literally names the Negotiator after the man.
Cody made it a personal mission to never fall under the Jedi’s spell. Prime had prepared him too well for Cody to fall victim to the Jedi’s manipulations.
While Cody’s batchmates were eager to meet their Jedi, Cody stayed resolute in his distrust of the whole lot of them. He would not be swayed, no matter what this Obi-wan Kenobi would do or say.
With a frown, he checked his chrono. His lieutenants were late. They should’ve been here minutes ago, already lined up in formation. There would be hell to pay for every single man in the battalion if Cody didn’t have ample time to check over his men before the General arrived.
He pulled his comm from his pocket and typed a hasty message to the most recent comm channel.
I don’t think I even need to warn you what happens if you don’t get your ass in here within the next minute
He sent the message and dropped the comm back into the depths of his pocket. If Waxer and Boil managed to kriff this up, Cody was not going to be happy.
Not even seconds later, the sound of hundreds of pairs of boots marching single file echoed through the landing docks. Cody had set the expectations well among his men, and they lined up perfectly, not wasting another second. Cody strolled slowly and carefully through the ranks of his men, spending time inspecting each clone and yelling at the men who were not dressed to perfection.
Master Obi-wan Kenobi would only get the best from the 212th.
Cody took his place at the forefront of the group and turned to address his men. “Our General will be landing shortly. I expect perfection from each and every one of you moving forward. If you thought the Kaminoans were strict, double their expectations.” He paused, letting his gaze shift sternly over the hundreds of helmeted brothers. “That is what I will require from you. The Jedi cannot sense weakness in a single clone, because if one of you is weak, we’re all weak.”
Cody began to pace in front of his men. “He will try to win you over with his charm. Make you feel safe, cared for. Do not fall for it. We trust each other, we are loyal to each other. No one else. Any obligation you have to the Jedi is your job. There is not--there cannot be any comradery, any brotherhood there. He is nat-born, he is your commanding officer, he is your general. You will listen to him and obey his orders. That is all. Any issues you have, anything you need, must come through me first. Do you understand?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” The volume of their response echoed through the chamber.
Cody took off his helmet, letting his face soften as he looked over his brothers. “Vod, at the end of the day, I just want you all to survive. Prime taught me not to trust the Jedi. I trust you, my brothers, my vode. The Jedi will help us win battles, but they are not part of the vode. I will trust you, and you alone. Together, we will survive.”
He saluted the men once. Then he turned back around, put his helmet on, and stood at attention to wait for their new Jedi.
It didn’t take much longer for Obi-wan Kenobi’s red Delta 7 to land on the edge of the platform. The hatch hissed open and General Kenobi stood up. Oh, Cody understood now why the man was known for his charm. Who cared about his silver tongue, the man was gorgeous.
He was tall. Not as tall as the clones, but above average for a human. His auburn hair was thick and wavy, and it looked so soft. His eyes gleamed with a persistent mirth, like the man was always in on a joke. And his smile when he looked down on the clones was blinding in its brilliance.
“Commander,” Kenobi nodded respectfully to Cody once he had climbed out of his ship. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I sincerely look forward to working with you.” He glanced over Cody’s shoulder at the men lined up perfectly. His brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t say anything about them and instead focused back on Cody. “I have to ask though, how would you prefer I address you moving forward?”
Oh, kriff. This just got a hell of a lot harder than Cody thought it would be. He was just a man, and his Jedi wasn’t supposed to be this attractive. It was no wonder Prime had warned him so profusely. If all the Jedi looked like General Kenobi, their empty promises and encouraging smiles would be terribly easy to fall victim to.
Cody would just have to fortify his defenses and stay physically and emotionally detached from the general. He made a vow to himself, and he was not one to break promises.
“I’m sure we will work together just fine,” Cody replied tersely.
General Kenobi’s smile faltered slightly at Cody’s clipped response, and he tucked his arms self-consciously into the sleeves of his robe. The familiar gesture clicked in Cody’s mind, and all of a sudden, he recognized Obi-wan as the Jedi who visited Kamino a few days ago to summon them for the war. Suddenly, it wasn’t difficult at all to hate the man. This was the Jedi who watched them like creatures in a cage.
Clearly, like all Jedi, he hid behind a charming smile and a warm persona, but Cody knew who he really was beneath it all. A judgmental entitled bastard.
“And your name?” The general prompted.
“My designation will suffice,” Cody supplied. “The same goes for the rest of the men.”
The Jedi frowned, his whole spirit seeming to deflate. “Understood, Commander 2224.” He looked physically upset to say the numbers, and Cody internally recoiled in offense. “Would you mind showing me to my rooms then? I believe I’d like to start settling in. And if you wouldn’t mind, perhaps we could meet on the bridge? I’d like to start talking strategy with you as soon as possible.”
“I’ll meet you on the bridge in exactly two hours, sir. Your rooms should be easy to find; they’re very clearly labelled. If you still feel the need for an escort, I will make one of the captains take you. Good day.” Cody dipped his head in a brief, respectful bow to his commanding officer before excusing himself and walking out of the room.
Obi-wan stood behind, gaping at the retreating figure of his marshal commander. The commander fulfilled the absolute bare requirement of decorum, and then just dismissed himself? He didn’t know much about respect and comradery in the chain of command yet, but he was pretty sure whatever the hell the commander just didn’t follow typical procedure.
From what Obi-wan knew, none of his friends had the same problem with their commanders. In fact, Anakin had already told him how close he was with his captain, and Plo Koon had dubbed his company the Wolf Pack. Why did Obi-wan’s commander have a vendetta against him, even though they had barely spoken twenty words between them?
He shrugged, resolving to try and fix the issue when they met on the bridge later. Surely the commander just needed some time to open up to him and then it would all be fine.
Cody fumed as he walked away, letting his anger build. How dare the Jedi presume that Cody would work at his beck and call like a common servant. He was the Marshal Commander of the Third Systems Army. He had better things to do than show a presumptuous Jedi to his room.
He slumped onto his bed, already drained from the day’s events when he felt a light buzz in his pocket. He pulled out his comm link and saw a message blinking back at him.
I’m not really sure where I, as you so eloquently put it, should be “getting my ass to”, and seeing as it’s been longer than a minute, I’m afraid I will fall to the mercy of whatever your warning was intended for.
Cody stared bewildered at the screen. This was NOT Waxer or Boil. The language was too proper, and they never would’ve spoken to him so casually. So, who the kriff had he sent his message to?
There was no ID for the sender, nor was there a comm code connected to the messages. It was like Cody was talking to a ghost.
He stared at the little comm link for a second, perplexed. After an embarrassing amount of time, he realized it wasn’t his comm; it was the one Prime had given him the night before he left Kamino.
Curious, Cody had asked him where it came from and why Prime was giving it to him in the first place. They sat down together, and Cody listened to Prime retell the daring tale of how he stole it from the Duchess of Mandalore, Satine Kryze. He said it was his lucky token, that the comm had saved his life on many occasions because of the advice the comm had given him.
Cody completely forgot that he even had the thing in his pocket. A combination of his own curiosity and Prime’s stories intrigued him enough to respond to the teasing comments of the mysterious text.
I’m sorry, that message was meant to go to someone else
Cody sent the message and then stared at it for a couple minutes. His comment didn’t leave much room for a response, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to see where the conversation could go.
I have to say, you should consider yourself very grateful you weren’t the intended recipient. They will be receiving none of my mercy
He set the comm link on his desk and left it there, honestly not expecting an immediate response. It only took a few seconds though before the device was buzzing with a new text.
Oh, please elaborate… you’ve intrigued me. How bad could this punishment possibly be?
He chuckled softly. Oh, if only this person knew the types of punishments he gave to his men. Waxer and Boil would struggle to get the smell of bleach out of their blacks for the next month after Cody finished making them scrub each individual tile on the bathroom floor in the barracks.
A little bit of this and a little bit of that. Let’s just say it mainly involves a bathroom shared by about 200 men. I’ll let your imagination fill in the rest.
He left the comm on the corner of his bed and stepped out of his room into the nearly empty hall. The officer quarters were basically in their own wing of the ship, so any foot traffic along the hallway was either the officers themselves or the cleaning droids. It made for a peaceful, quiet place to return to after a long, draining day.
Cody liked the privacy and comfort of his own room, but he sometimes missed the comradery of living with his brothers. He preferred eating in the general dining hall and didn’t mind the walk over to the weight room because he was bound to run into a couple brothers just walking through the hallways.
Clones greeted him respectfully as he strolled down the hall, helmet in hand. It was a general rule that clones on duty were expected to wear their helmets at all times, unless they were conversing with a superior officer. Otherwise, helmetless clones were off-duty and ranks were irrelevant—not that his men observed the dissolution of ranks ever.
Cody hated it, because he was never, never, treated like an equal. To his brothers, he was one step ahead of them and to natborns, he was one step behind them. But there was never someone who was his equal, someone who didn’t want or need something from him.
When Cody stepped into the weight room, hardly any eyes drifted in his direction, but those that did see him stopped to salute. The remaining quickly caught on and followed suit. He nodded at them graciously, if a little peeved since he really just wanted to work out in peace, but they all immediately went back to their workouts like nothing happened.
He demanded their respect when he was on duty—it was expected—but when he was off-duty he longed to just disappear into the crowd of brothers with their same face and identical voice. They would never let him though. Cody suspected they were afraid of him and deferred to his rank out of fear of forgetting to when it really mattered. He had just told them he expected perfection from them now that their Jedi was on board, and he supposed he really shouldn’t complain since they really were trying hard to meet that expectation.
He spent the next hour working up a decent sweat, shifting from lifting weights to the punching bag and finishing with cardio. The clones in the room ebbed and flowed around him, giving him a preference with the equipment and doing their best to stay out of his way. Cody supposed at least that was a perk of all this.
He clambered back down the hall once he finished his workout, his muscles aching and sore. When he got back to his room, he stripped out of his sweaty blacks and turned the water on in the fresher so it could warm up for a second. It never got hot per se, but it at least got a little warmer than freezing.
His eyes caught for a second on the comm resting innocently on his desk. Curiosity got the best of him. He wrapped a towel around his waist and shuffled over to the desk across the room.
200, my heart goes out to the poor soul who gets stuck with that job. Perhaps you could offer them mercy on my behalf.
Cody scoffed at the screen, amused. Waxer and Boil deserved no such mercy, especially on behalf of some stranger texting him through Prime’s old lucky comm link. He said as much in his response.
I’m afraid I don’t know enough about you to let your opinion have any sway. Perhaps if you beg on your knees on their behalf, I’ll consider it
He set the comm down and turned back to the shower, his muscles begging for the relief of the warm water. Right as he went to step into the spray, he heard a gentle knock at his room’s door. He groaned but closed the fresher door and wrapped the towel around his waist once more.
The door slid open at his command to his new general waiting patiently on the other side. Cody’s eyes widened, and he glanced down at his bare chest before meeting the gaze of the now aghast, and fully clothed, Jedi. He crossed his arms over his chest self-consciously, which really only made the muscles in his arms and chest bulge more.
The general’s eyes followed the movement. Cody could practically hear the man’s thoughts as his eyes traced over Cody’s pecs, golden tan skin, and the tattoo ink sprawling down his bicep to his forearm. His eyes drifted even lower until they caught on the towel wrapped low around his hips and then suddenly his gaze jumped back up to meet Cody’s like he’d been burned.
Cody smirked at him. “Do you need something, General?”
“Commander,” the Jedi’s cheeks were burning with shame. “I just, uh, wanted to speak to you before we met with all the other officers. I felt like we didn’t quite start the way I’d have liked to.”
“Well, this isn’t making it much better, now is it. You’re rather making me feel like zoo animal. Not exactly the best first impression to be ogling your commander, General,” Cody drawled, more annoyed than amused by the Jedi’s starring.
The general huffed, crossing his own arms over his chest. “I apologize, Commander. I didn’t expect you to open the door dressed indecently. You caught me off guard.”
“Well, as I told you in the landing bay, General, I will see you on the bridge. In an hour.” Cody stared down his nose at the smaller man, a frown etched on his face. Disapproval radiated from him like a beacon, and the Jedi seemed to fold in on himself in shame.
Without further thought, Cody closed the door in the Jedi’s face. The other man huffed in surprise, and Cody could feel his presence lingering outside the door for longer than necessary. He almost thought the general would knock again, but finally, after a long pause with the two of them standing off on opposite sides of the door, the general yielded and walked off down the hall, his shoulders hanging in shame and defeat.
Cody fumed as he turned back to his still running shower. This self-righteous jerk. He thought he could just parade himself down to Cody’s room, eye Cody up and down like eye-candy, and then politely ask them to be friends? After everything Cody did to establish his distain for the other man. He only tolerated the general at all because he was required to and here the general was, asking them if they could start over on a better foot. Oh, this man boiled Cody’s blood. His blatant disregard for Cody and his brothers on Kamino, coupled with his presumption just now made him seethe.
In that moment, Cody doubled down on his vow to never trust a Jedi, with Obi-wan Kenobi the worst of them all.