She barely recognized the woman in the mirror now.
It was strange, to see herself without her padawan braid. When she'd cut it off, she'd cut her hair too – it was shorter now, just brushing her shoulders.
She looked… haunted. It was in the eyes, she thought, they looked older and more than a little wary. But then – she had grown in the past few months, faster than she thought she could have.
She didn't have the luxury of enjoying her childhood anymore. Now, she had to be an adult. Because the war had started, and a war needed soldiers. It needed leaders – and somehow, her lightsaber and meagre knowledge of the Force meant that she had the capability to be. It was times like these, the contemplative moments, that Raiko missed her Master more than anything. But he was already on the front lines, and she was soon to follow.
Standing, she brushed down her new kit, the dark leather more comfortable than her old robes. It was more armour than anything – a slightly less obvious sign of her shift in position. The pants were a welcome change, as was the more form fitting bodice and sleeves. She felt freer. And with her saber by her side – hopefully she looked a little more intimidating.
She was meeting the leaders of her battalion today.
She, a nineteen-year-old Arcturian, was about to be put in charge of about 600 men, and then jet straight off into the war. And to say she was terrified was an understatement. She hadn't slept, and had instead tried to meditate. She had failed.
And now, as dawn broke, she knew that she had to face that fear.
Absently, she reached for Obi-Wan and Anakin. They were both distracted, emotions distant. At least they were still alive. Being knighted within days of each other should have been cause for celebration – but neither her nor Anakin had felt any inclination to do so. He and Obi-Wan along with their own legion and battalion respectively had been sent to the front lines already - neck deep in the fight for the Republic's freedom. And that was where she and her battalion were headed. Straight to war.
Speaking of – she was getting close to being late.
Clay listened idly to his brother's chatter over the comms.
The 313th Attack Battalion were already onboard, but Stix had insisted that they wait for their General outside the ship in order to 'establish a firm sense of leadership and respect.' Jest had laughed at him, but Clay had indulged his worrisome brother. Since being promoted to Lieutenant, Stix – or CC-4663 – had made it his personal mission to eat, sleep and breathe regulation manuals. They all dealt with stress differently.
Clay had been lucky.
Out of their six-man training squad, three of them had ended up together. Him, Stix and Jest had been assigned to the 313th. And, if he remembered correctly, Tidd – CT-8009 – and Viz – CT-5823 – were a part of the 501st, which he was sure they'd serve with - given that they were a similar attack infantry. It would almost be a full reunion if they linked up with the 501st. Their youngest brother, CT-9967-32, was serving as a specialist pilot under another unit. They hadn't heard from him since they had been shipped out.
Now – if they could just be assigned a General that would be easy to work with, then their first mission was looking all the way up.
"Cap! I think that's our guy – or, uh…"
"Girl?"
Jest and their other sergeant – a clone calling himself Jive – spoke almost at once. Clay turned, to where the pair of them were looking, and felt his insides do a funny little dance. Stix snapped to immediate attention, barking a command to the other two clones to follow suit, which they did – Clay's body responding automatically to the tone, even as his brain still ticked over at half its speed.
The last time he had seen Raiko Omari, the then-padawan had been bleeding out on Geonosis.
Now she appeared like a vision – lit by the rising sun, eyes wide and shining with the same vigour that had captivated him on the Geonosis sand. She smiled as she approached, eyes going to his visor.
"I didn't think I'd see you again, soldier." Her voice was light, teasing. Clay went hot under his helmet, as all three men beside him turned to look at him, dropping their salutes.
"What does that mean, sir?" Stix asked nervously. "Did you commit an infraction-?"
"I- we- she's the Jedi I fought Dooku with." Clay stuttered into the comms. He was used to a certain order, liked things to be uncomplicated. Feeling so off-balance wasn't pleasant. He switched on his external mic hastily. "Likewise, General." He said shortly. Perhaps too shortly, as her smile dimmed some. He cleared his throat. "Allow me to introduce your commanding officers."
Jest stepped forwards. Clay could practically picture his grin as he gave the woman a slight up-and-down, barely perceptible under his helmet. "Everyone calls me Jest, General, I'm one of your sergeants – the better one, if you were curious."
She laughed, and shook his hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Jest." She turned to Jive, eyes going to his armour markings. "I'm guessing you're my other sergeant, trooper?"
"Yes, ma'am." Jive inclined his head. "Jive, ma'am. And I can assure you that I'm the better officer." Stix muttered something about professionalism over the comms, and Jives quietened.
She hummed. "Jest and Jive." She repeated to herself, turning to Stix. Clay fought a laugh at his brother's sudden panicked intake of air and his immediate stiffening of posture as he snapped a sharp salute again. "At ease, soldier." She said, sounding faintly amused.
It was like watching a statute come to life as Stix awkwardly relaxed into parade rest, hands fluttered awkwardly until he clasped them behind his back. "Lieutenant CC-4663, sir!" He said quickly. Raiko tilted her head slightly, reminiscent of a curious animal. Her face was unreadable. Clay felt a surge of protectiveness for his brother. If she was harsh with him – or made fun of him like Clay had seen others do, then he'd… well, he didn't know what he'd do – but it wouldn't be regulation, that was for sure.
"Do you have a nickname too, Lieutenant?" she asked, softly. Clay relaxed slightly, even as Stix floundered over the inner com channel.
Finally, he nodded reluctantly. "Stix, sir." He said quietly, slightly defeatedly.
Raiko's smile was noticeably more gentle. "I'm sure there's a lovely story behind that, Lieutenant Stix."
Jest barked a laugh. "We call him Stix because he's got a stick up his- uh, you know what, General." Clay sighed.
Raiko, to her credit, didn't say anything, just smiled again. "Well, I'm glad you're onboard then, Stix – because Force knows I need someone to keep me in line." Jest laughed again, and she grinned in satisfaction. She turned to Clay then, and he straightened under her gaze again. "Captain. What do I call you?" her eyes were intense again. Clay was dreading the time he'd have to face her without his helmet as a barrier between them. Perhaps he could convince her it was welded to him.
"Clay." He said finally.
Her face stilled, and Clay shivered as a faint touch of something danced over his skin. "Clay." She repeated in a whisper.
Her words rang between them.
"I'm sorry." The world fading, and the dim edge of a smile; "Clay. You're covered in it."
For a moment they just stared at each other – two beings on the edge of something bigger than both of them, moulded from the same trauma.
And then the moment was broken, and they were going aboard, and he stood beside her as she addressed her men for the first time. He understood the way they were watching her every move. He'd never seen anything so bright before either.
She was blinding – but in that moment he couldn't help but stare.
