Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its associated characters; they all belong to their respective owners. I only own any characters or plotlines that you do not recognize.
34. "Rookies"
The Resolute, Classified Location
General Grievous was the most dangerous nuisance that Elara had ever dealt with from afar. He had her dropping her head into her hands, fingers massaging her temples as they exited hyper space just after he entered it. Somehow, he always managed to escape their reach––and it was quietly infuriating. He killed civilians, troopers, and Jedi alike. It had been cited by survivors of his attacks that he procured lightsabers from the Jedi he killed. He had a collection, now, and the thought made Elara absolutely sick. He used them against the fallen's comrades. Against the clone troopers that tried to avenge them. Against anyone who got in his way. Grievous was cunning. He was a strategist. He knew how to slip away in just the nick of time, and leave the Jedi agonizing over his escape.
They'd been tracking him for weeks.
And every time they thought they were on his mechanized heels––he was gone.
"I'm gonna take his arms off, Lari," Anakin groaned, voice muffled by the hands pressed to his face.
"No, you're not," Elara deadpanned, eyes locked on a datapad.
"I really am," he warned.
"You're just tired. Go get some sleep."
There was a quiet pause. And then––
"They're mechanical… wouldn't be too hard."
Elara looked up to find Anakin faintly glaring down at the bridge's holotable. He was flexing his left hand, like he was testing their mechanized joints. She arched an eyebrow and lowered her datapad. "So is one of yours, would you take kindly to having it chopped off again?"
Anakin froze, fingers flexed. He cast his sister a sidelong glance, and was greeted by her pointed, tired stare. He cleared his throat, dropped his hand, and looked away again.
"That's… that's different," he contested. He snapped his attention back to Elara and brandished his half-mechanized arm, brows vaulted. "He's got four of them, he could spare losing a couple of arms. I've only got one and a half."
The grueling search for Grievous had left everyone more than a little tired. It was exhausting to feel like you were tripping over the same obstacle again, and again, and again. It certainly didn't help that, in between these stumbles, there were other missions to be had. They'd fought in a couple of skirmishes, escorted a senator who was outspoken in his support of the Republic, and conducted a handful of base inspections. With all the activity, it was important to grab rest when one could. And Elara had been doing so, making sure to step away for a while, especially one her head started to pound so hard her eyes felt like they were throbbing. But Anakin––Anakin clearly hadn't been resting much. His frustration threatened to meet his growing crankiness in a potentially volatile crash.
"You should really get some rest, Ani," Elara said softly. A non-committal sound left Anakin's lips, and he turned his attention back to the table with a grimace. He punched in a couple of buttons, and brought up a map of a distant star system. "You know as well as I do that we're not going to catch Grievous today."
"We don't know that. We got that intelligence from those clones in Balmorra to look into."
"That information is a week old."
"It's the best lead we have." He pushed a button and the map zoomed in on a planet in the Balmorra System, which he started to scan for potential hiding spots.
Elara huffed a sigh and shut off her datapad, which she then started to tap against her thigh. She wondered if this was how Ack-Ack felt when she'd refused to rest on Christophsis. If it had been a chore to get her to stand down, one would have to be a miracle worker to convince Anakin to take a break. It was a habit ingrained into them both at a young age, when they'd been forced to have the work ethic of factory droids. A job wasn't done till it was done. The issue with this job, however, was that it was a war. You couldn't make it through a war without resting. And if you tried––you either put your comrades in danger, or you got yourself killed.
From the corner of her eye, Elara spotted Obi-Wan walking their way. She turned to him, eyes pleading, and gestured to her brother. "Could you please help me convince him to get some rest?"
Obi-Wan's brows furrowed at the inquiry. His gaze narrowed contemplatively on the younger Skywalker, who had been standing at or around that holotable all day. "When was the last time you slept, Anakin?"
"I'll sleep after we find Grievous," he deadpanned, pointedly not looking at either his sister or his friend. After a moment, though, he pinched the bridge of his nose and pushed away from the table. His eyes squeezed shut against the blue blue of the hologram. "Clone intelligence spotted him in the Balmorra System. But that was weeks ago. Since then, he vanished."
"Well, unlike you, maybe he's getting some much needed rest," Obi-Wan drawled, lips quirking into a subtle, wry smirk.
Beside them, R2 chirped a cheeky remark that Anakin, quite frankly, looked dead on his feet. Before the exhausted Jedi could snip a remark back at the droid, Admiral Yularen stepped forward.
"Excuse me, General," he interrupted. "Incoming transmission from Commander Cody."
With the press of a button, the Balmorran planet evaporated in a haze of static, and was replaced by a small, transparent image of Cody in full gear. He stood at attention, hands clasped behind his back, and inclined his head in respectful greeting.
"General Kenobi, General Skywalker, and General Skywalker."
"Cody. How goest he inspections?" Obi-Wan asked, folding his arms over his chest. He shuffled a little closer to the table, which had his rerebrace gently clacking against Elara's. She couldn't help but glance at how close their arms were, and cleared her throat gently as that deep pull in her stomach sparked to life again.
"The tracking station in Pastil is fully operational. Captain Rex, Captain Ack-Ack and I are proceeding to the outpost in the Rishi system," Cody informed.
"Good. Report back once you've arrived."
"Copy that. Cody out."
"Good man, that Cody," Obi-Wan commended as the commander's image flickered away. "Don't worry, Anakin. If General Grievous comes anywhere near this quadrant, we'll know about it."
Elara placed a hand against the middle of her brother's back, the gesture soft and reassuring. He spared her a glance, a displeased downwards curl to his lips. But his eyes drooped in the telltale way they always did when he was tired. It was moments like this that he looked his age. He looked like a young man burdened with the horrors and pressures of wartime.
"Please get some rest. I'll keep looking into the Balmorra lead for you, and if anything happens, you'll be the first one to know," she promised.
After a long, quiet, contemplative moment, Anakin sighed. His shoulders slouched and he conceded with a nod of his head. "Just… if anything happens…"
"We'll fetch you," Obi-Wan agreed.
With promises made, the young man exited the bridge, a hand rising in an attempt to stealthily cover a yawn. Once he'd stepped through the doorway, Elara placed a hand on R2's dome. It swiveled around to angle his eye up at her. She smiled and darted her eyes the way that Anakin had just exited.
"Make sure he actually goes to his quarters for me?"
R2 whistled an affirmation and wheeled after the younger Skywalker dutifully.
"Stubbornness runs in the family," Obi-Wan teased. There was a smile in his voice, a slight quavering to it that lent the idea he was chuckling.
"That was never up for debate," Elara said. She twisted her head to glance over her shoulder, smiling faintly. That smile grew even more faint upon realizing how close he was standing. Somehow, they had ended up with so little space between them that Obi-Wan's breath was ruffling Elara's hair. And he must've realized how perilous the distance was, too, because the teasing edge to his expression disappeared. Things were, very suddenly, a little too intense. She forced herself to look away, and redirected her attention to her datapad
Simultaneously, both Jedi looked away, and took a step in a direction that put space between them. Elara clicked her datapad back on and dropped her attention down to it, and Obi-Wan turned to face one of the glowing tactical boards.
"So," he cleared his throat, "Balmorra."
"Yes, Balmorra." Elara tapped into a file and scanned the information that flicked up onto the screen. "It's in the Colonies, a factory planet. It just recently seceded from the Republic, so it wouldn't be unusual if Grievous was spotted there."
"You mentioned it was a factory planet. What do they produce?"
Elara hadn't stopped moving. She was slowly working her way around the circumference of the table, taking a step every few seconds. About halfway around the table, now, she glanced over at Obi-Wan. He stood with hands clasped behind his back, and the faint blue glow of the board before him made it look like he, too, was glowing. She snapped her eyes back down at the datapad, a hand rising to press against the side of her neck.
"Battle droids of all different types, but they seem to favor creating the heavy duty stuff. And it appears that, in seceding, they were gifted a fleet of Lucrehulk-class battleships. Seems like they're expecting trouble," she said.
There was a slight scuffle as Obi-Wan turned back around, the heels of his boots grinding into the floor. Elara stopped moving entirely, which left them perfectly separated by the holotable. When she looked up it was as though her eyes were magnetically drawn to his. And for a moment, all they did was stare at one another. And then, Obi-Wan extended a hand.
"May I?" he asked, eyes darting to the datapad.
"Yes, of course." Elara handed the pad over, and then clasped her hands behind her back patiently.
If anyone had been truly paying attention to the exchange, they might have marked it as being odd. There was a distinct lack of witty back-and-forth, which was often bandied about between the two, even in something as bland as information swapping. But there'd been none of it. No teasing remarks, no sly smiles or playfully rolled eyes. Then there was the distance between them, which was only as wide as the table, but felt much larger. Anyone truly attuned to the way that these two Jedi typically interacted would have noticed that something was off. Something had changed. But everyone was doing their duty, letting the Knight and the Master do their work without interference.
But one person who had noticed this change was Elara herself. Since the night they'd all played Moulee-rah Moocha––and, in fact, since the night she and Obi-Wan had tea––that something their dynamic had pinched. Their interactions felt distinctly more cautious. To the point, even, where one might occasionally call it awkward. And some of this was intentional, on Elara's part at least. She intentionally broke off eye-contact when she noticed it lingering too long. She was wary of how close they stood to one another, sometimes finding an excuse to shuffle a step away if that pull in her gut got too strong. After realizing the strength and depth of what she felt for him, she thought that maybe a little distance was necessary. Perhaps it would help things settle a little, let her heated nerves cool down so everything could go back to normal.
What she got instead was a simultaneous reciprocation of her actions.
The touches of the arm or back that Obi-Wan had been making a habit of turned into quick taps of his fingertips. He, too, was severing eye-contact quickly. If it was maintained too long, he often cleared his throat with brows furrowing, and swiftly redirected their attention to something else. But their closeness didn't seem to perturb him as much as it did her. Which, in Elara's mind, seemed to confirm that what she felt was one sided. Obi-Wan didn't feel that gut-pulling tug in his stomach like she did; his breath didn't catch in his chest like hers did when his fingers brushed her own. He didn't worry about the space between them because he couldn't feel the crackle of energy between their bodies. And that left her fearing that the reason for his distancing himself was because he'd caught wind of her feelings. That he was being gentlemanly about it, and was doing her a favor in giving her a chance to deal with this quietly, without the Council intervening.
Despite it all, Elara kept working. Kept researching leads, fighting the battles, and contacting their allies. If she allowed herself to be distracted by any of this, it would be disastrous. She could handle their dynamic being a little stilted till things even out. What she couldn't handle was being the reason anyone's life got put at stake.
"This intelligence is old," Obi-Wan murmured. He had a hand poised primly at his chin, pointer finger softly caressing his beard. "But it's a good place to start. Perhaps once the Captains and Cody return we could see about journeying to Balmorra. It couldn't hurt to take a look."
"So long as those Lucrehulks stay out of our way, I'm more than happy to do some reconnaissance," Elara agreed.
"I have confidence we could handle a Lucrehulk," he said lightly, eyes still focused on the datapad screen.
The corner of Elara's mouth curled into a smirk. "Says the man who fought his way off of one as a padawan."
"Says the woman who took down a gundark whilst blinded."
Obi-Wan flicked a sly, gently roguish glance her way, the look accompanied by a jauntily cocked brow. She couldn't help the way her smirk grew into a smile. A breathy little laugh left her mouth, and she dropped her gaze to the holotable almost sheepishly. Shortly after, it rose again and met his once more.
"Less me, more of the Force."
"You and the Force were one in that moment. It was you who performed such an impressive feat." He passed the datapad back over the table, and his other hand tucked itself behind his back. "Regardless of whether or not we go to Balmorra, we should continue to search for other potential leads."
"I'll see if there's any more recent references of Grievous in the reports from our outposts around the Balmorra System," Elara said as she took the datapad back. She held it up pointedly as she started to shuffle back from the holotable. "If anyone's seen or heard mention of him, it'll be the hardworking clones at those outposts."
Obi-Wan nodded, and she noticed a peculiar gleam in his eyes. It was gentle, almost impossibly so, with a glassy aspect to it that was almost melancholy. "I'll start looking into surrounding systems in the Colonies."
With a plan set, Elara turned towards the doors to the bridge, intent on finding the head intelligence officer on The Resolute. Halfway there, she felt the muscles in her neck tense in such a way that had her wanting to throw one last glance over her shoulder. But with a resolute thinning of her lips, and a shaky breath, she didn't look.
If she had, she might've noticed the way that Obi-Wan's face had fallen, and how lonely he looked standing at the empty holotable.
OOOO
"Commander Cody, do you copy?" Yularen asked. He lifted his finger off the button on the holotable's panel, and was greeted by the sound of garbled static. Another button was pressed. "Captain Rex, please respond." Garbled static. Another button. "Captain Ack-Ack, do you read me?"
Elara held her breath, hoping that the captain's voice would come through the transmission; but all they received was more static. A displeased frown tugged her mouth down, and a gurgle of worry rumbled in her stomach.
"They should have checked in from the Rishi station hours ago…" Obi-Wan pointed out. He lifted a contemplative hand to his mouth, and then quirked an eyebrow. He shot a look over at Anakin, who appeared visibly troubled by the lack of response. "It appears your captain follows orders as well as you do."
The jibe was meant to be lighthearted, likely to lift some of the tension, but Anakin snapped back with a retort quick enough to prove it had hit some sort of sore spot.
"Hmm, perhaps Cody is boring Rex with standard procedure and protocol," he snipped. He'd recently returned to the bridge, his hair a little sleep rumpled, but decently rested. It hadn't done much to improve his mood, it seemed, though.
"And between the two of them bickering, I'm sure Ack-Ack would get them both back on track," Elara cut in. She was standing between both of the men, and she really didn't need to be caught in the crossfire of their arguing. Not right now.
"Perhaps we need to work on our own boring procedures and figure out a strategy to find Grievous.
With a sigh, Anakin scrubbed a hand over his face. "Right. Admiral," he turned to Yularen, who squared his shoulders readily, "let me know if you hear from Rex."
The three Jedi moved into a smaller room adjacent to the bridge, leaving Yularen to monitor the transmissions. As they moved away, however, Elara couldn't help the lingering sting of worry that lingered under her skin.
"This isn't like Acks…" she murmured, mostly to herself.
"Perhaps, in this case, no news is good news. The Rishi station is a quiet outpost on an equally quiet moon," Obi-Wan pointed out.
Elara sighed and shook her head, lips grimaced. "That's not how Ack-Ack operates. He's on top of reports and check-ins like no one else I've ever met. He's even more efficient than you in some cases… This is odd."
"Odd as it may be, we must focus on the task at hand. We're meant to devise a way to locate General Grievous, so that is what we must do. We all have faith in our officers, let's let them do their job. And should they send a distress signal, we shall answer it."
To anyone who didn't know Obi-Wan, the response might've seemed cold and impersonal. But they wouldn't have noticed the faint furrow of worry between his eyebrows. Or the hazed gleam in his eyes that betrayed the fear for the well-being of their troopers. But of the three Jedi present, he would always be the one to set them firmly back on the track they were meant to be taking. He was the Skywalkers' voice of reason when theirs faltered and went mute. And they knew he was right. Rex, Cody, and Ack-Ack were some of the best clone troopers out there. It would be an insult not to trust them to work through whatever situation they'd been thrust into. So it was with still hesitant nods, and the sloughing off of worry, they turned their attention back on Grievous.
"So…" Anakin scooped a datapad off a nearby console. "You two uncover anything else about Balmorra?"
"It's a good lead," Elara said, agreeing to his earlier insistence it was something they should look into. It was nice to see the way the corner of his mouth twitched into the semblance of a smile. It was small, but it was relieving after how serious the day had become. "Balmorra is, essentially, a Separatist droid factory. They favor the heavier duty stuff, hulks and B2s and the like… and they're keen to protect themselves. They've got a whole fleet of Lucrehulks guarding it."
Anakin's smile grew as he leaned himself back against the console. He glanced down to make sure he didn't sit on any buttons, and then waggled the datapad triumphantly. "A perfect place for a Separatist strategist like Grievous to hide. It's probably where he gets all the replacement parts for his body once they start rusting…"
Elara couldn't help the snort that rattled through her nose.
Even Obi-Wan hid a bit of a smile behind a hand.
"Is it a good enough lead to warrant some recon?" he continued.
Their lift in mood was quickly squashed, then. With her expression melting into a grimace, Elara shared a look with Obi-Wan, whose hand fell to start stroking fingers along his beard. It was disheartening to watch Anakin's shoulders slump upon realizing that this lead was probably going to lead them nowhere.
"Unfortunately, with the Lucrehulk fleet, we'd need a significant amount of back-up, as we'd likely end up engaged in a firefight. The Council and the Army aren't going to approve that unless we have solid evidence. Our losses have already been high as of late, they're wanting us to be more cautious," Obi-Wan revealed.
"No one's seen Grievous in the Balmorra system in weeks. He's not even been sighted in the Colonies or the surrounding systems," Elara said. "I read dozens of reports. There aren't even signs of warning reported from the systems he's attacked. He's like a ghost. The Council won't deploy aid for ghosts."
Anakin's expression crumpled, and his free hand––the mechanical one––flew up to slap over his eyes. Elara winced at the sound it made, and hoped it was just the leather of his glove that made the smack, and not the metal beneath it.
"I should've slept longer…" he muttered.
"And yet this problem would still have plagued you once you woke up," Obi-Wan drawled with a mild smirk. Anakin's hand passed over his eyes, and once it did, it revealed a narrow, tired glare. The older Jedi merely shrugged. "You'd just have let Elara and I develop ideas on our own."
"Well, have you got any ideas? 'Cause I'm coming up with a whole lot of nothing, my brain's fried…"
"I… suppose we could start reading through incident reports. There might not have been warning signs regarding Grievous' arrival, but there might be something in the aftermath that could help us," Obi-Wan suggested.
Anakin threw his shoulders into a shrug and switched his datapad on. "Better than nothing."
The three then proceeded to lapse into dutiful silence. They started to read over report after report that detailed the horrific consequence of coming under Grievous' fire. It was difficult to read and remember what it was like to stand there, on the razed planet surfaces, seeing the destruction first hand. Anakin kept his position leaned up against the console, shifting the way his ankles were crossed every so often. Obi-Wan had taken to pacing while he read, his steps slow and measured as not to distract his comrades. And Elara had seated herself on the floor, legs crossed as she poured over her share of reports. While they worked, no one bothered them. Which meant the location of their officers was still vastly unknown.
After about an hour of reading, Elara's eyes started to itch. She set her datapad down on her knee and clenched her eyes shut in order to give them a chance to rest. When she closed them, however, all she saw were the numbers from the report she'd just read. Clone trooper deaths surpassed one hundred. Civilian deaths surpassed several hundred. Two Jedi had been killed and found lightsaberless. With a little sigh, Elara rolled her shoulders back and winced as some of the vertebrae in her spine popped. When her eyes opened again, they near automatically fell on Obi-Wan. He had stopped moving for the time being, brows heavily furrowed in deep contemplation.
But what caught Elara's unwilling attention was his hands. One of them was poised at his chin in a familiar gesture; but instead of pulling his fingers along his facial hair, they were pulling across his lips. Her attention had been diverted to those lips, which were being gently tugged and pushed by the gloved tips of Obi-Wan's fingers. It was a thoughtful gesture, an innocent one, but Elara felt her stomach drop at the sight of it. Because her mind conjured forth all sorts of questions that she shouldn't think about, especially when they were meant to be finding a way to catch a warmonger. But instead of developing cunning plans––she wondered how soft Obi-Wan's lips were. How that delicate skin might feel pressed against her cheek, or her knuckles… or against her own lips. She'd never been kissed before; and she found that she'd very much like to know what it felt like.
Elara inhaled sharply at her train of thought, which had left her cheeks flushed, and the neckline of her robes feeling a little too tight. Her head snapped down, tearing her gaze away from the quietly contemplative subject of her thoughts. A man who would blench if he'd known what she'd been thinking of. So Elara forced those––blissfully warm, longing––thoughts aside, and instead focused back on the report on the datapad.
Clone Casualties: 115
Civilian Casualties: 478
Jedi Casualties: 2
With the reminder of the horrors they were trying to prevent, all thoughts of unknown blisses were forgotten.
It wasn't long before Elara had been sucked into another report. She braced an elbow on her knee, which gave her chin a spot to rest in the palm of her hand. Eventually her head listed to the side and her palm was left cupping her cheek, smooshing the side of her face. The longer she read, the more tired she felt. And that started to register on her face, eyelids drooping a little, lips parting so slower breaths could pass between them. But then Elara's eyes passed over a set of words that had her brows furrowing. 'No prior warning, all radio silence.' She re-read them and her head quirked up.
"Radio silence…" she murmured. It was barely a whisper, a thought on the wind, but it had been heard.
"What?" Anakin asked, the tenor of his voice breaking the silence completely.
Elara looked over at her brother, and repeated, "Radio silence. Half of these reports mention there being no… incoming transmissions, o-or any radio activity."
"Yeah, well… that's sort of his modus operandi, right? He comes in out of nowhere, wreaks havoc, and then disappears again." Anakin gestured to his datapad. "That's how every one of these reports start. That's how every battle with the Separatists starts."
"He's using encrypted channels." The statement hung in the air a moment, the weight of it striking them. Elara got to her feet and laughed a gently incredulous laugh. "It's… so obvious. So much so that we overlooked it. We're in the middle of a war, everyone is using encrypted channels, sending encrypted messages…"
Obi-Wan's hand pulled away from his chin, and he started to waggle a thoughtful finger in the air. "If we can identify any of the channels he's sending messages through, we might be able to intercept one."
"And if we can intercept it, it can be decrypted," Anakin said, pushing off the console.
"It'll take time, but it's our best shot," Elara said.
A smirk curled its way across Obi-Wan's face, and he nodded appreciatively to the two Skywalkers. "I dare say we make a wonderful team."
"They wouldn't keep sending us out as a team if we weren't," Anakin snorted. He folded both arms over his chest and smiled proudly between the other two Jedi. "We get the job done… even if we have to sift through stacks of reports to catch a piece of bantha shit like Grievous."
"Anakin."
OOOO
Sometime later, the beacon at Rishi Station stopped transmitting. Upon jumping into the Abrion System, they were greeted by the sight of General Grievous' fleet. They were able to fire on him for only a moment or two before he jumped into hyperspace and disappeared. But, in this instance, the relief for the safety of their men outweighed the frustration that came from losing the Separatist general again. Gunships were sent to pick up the officers, and Elara had volunteered to meet them in the landing bay, while her fellow Jedi stayed to inform the Council of Grievous' potential interest in Kamino, the only planet in the system that was of note.
The minute the doors to the ship opened and revealed the troopers inside, a wave of relief crashed over her.
"Acks," Elara breathed with relief as he stepped off the gunship. His armor was a little more scraped than it had been before he left, and there was a light dusting of dust and soot across it, too. She extended a hand as he approached, and he clasped her forearm once he was close enough to do so. She brought her other hand up to touch his upper arm, her eyebrows lifting in earnest. "I'm pleased to see that you're alright."
"Thank you, sir. I'm afraid the check wasn't as routine as we thought it'd be," he replied.
"I thought not. I got worried when you didn't check in," she admitted. She turned to Rex and Cody, who'd not been too far behind Ack-Ack. "Captain, Commander, I'm glad for your return."
Cody inclined his head in deferred respect. "Thank you, sir. But we couldn't have done it without these two shinies." He turned to gesture to the troopers that had stepped off the ship behind them.
Their armor was sooty and dusty, too, but it was plain white, which the hallmark of rookie troopers not yet placed in a battalion. But one of them had what looked to be a handprint on the right half of his breastplate, stamped in something dark. Their faces were a little worn, signs of exhaustion and grief crinkling their foreheads and at the corners of their eyes. But then one of them, the one in fully plain armor, met Elara's eyes. His widened in recognition, and his shoulders perked up a little.
"General Skywalker?" asked the trooper.
Elara stared at him intently for a moment, recognizing the particular cadence of his voice. Her eyes then flickered to a tattoo on the trooper's right temple. A number five.
"Fives?"
The three officers all shared a look, confusion furrowing brows and causing mouths to drop open.
"You know each other?" Ack-Ack questioned.
"Yeah––I helped oversee the final test of his squadron on Kamino." Her eyes darted between the two rookie troopers, who were gaping at her in relieved recognition. But before the thought to smile could even enter her head, something else struck Elara. A frown started to pull across her mouth. "Was Domino Squad posted on Rishi?"
Fives nodded and cleared his throat. "Yes, sir."
Something cold settled over Elara's shoulders. "Where's the rest of them?"
"I'm… I'm afraid Echo and I are the only ones left, sir," he replied, a forced evenness in his voice.
A thunderous ache pounded through her chest. She'd only known Domino Squad for a short period of time, but she'd had such high hopes for them. When they'd been introduced, most of them insisted on using their identification numbers, stating they were nothing but a sequence of numerals. But by the time she'd left, they'd all proudly told her their names, smiling and basking in the unity they'd found with one another. Elara's eyes darted between Fives and Echo, the only surviving members of Domino Squad, and the frown on her face deepened.
"I'm… I'm so sorry," she said. There was a slight breathy aspect to her voice, a wholehearted breathlessness at how terrible the situation was. "They were good soldiers, but more importantly they were good men." Echo and Fives nodded their silent thanks, eyes mournfully downcast. Elara turned to the officers, who were all equally solemn. "Can we see that they get some food and a place to clean up while we debrief?"
"Yes, sir. I'll take them to the officer's mess," Cody agreed.
"Thank you, Cody. You can join us on the bridge once they're settled."
Cody led the surviving members of Domino Squad off, and Elara and the captains started to make their way across the landing bay.
"I feel so sorry for them," Elara murmured. She shook her head and clasped her hand behind her back. "They were a fantastic squadron. Unorthodox, at times, but… we need that, sometimes."
"They fought till the end, I promise you that, sir," Rex agreed. "They've got good heads on their shoulders. They all did. One of them, Heavy, he gave his life to destroy the station and break the all-clear signal."
Elara hummed quietly, hands squeezing each other at the small of her back.
"They fought valiantly. They're good soldiers… and those two'll come back from this. They'll make good troopers," Ack-Ack predicted.
Fives and Echo were quite the duo, that much Elara had realized on Kamino. They were close, one was rarely seen without the other. They even acted as foils to one another. Echo––who'd been given his name due to his propensity to repeat orders––was a very by-the-books sort of fellow. He followed the rules they were given, and was always up to date on regulations. Fives, on the other hand, was a little more outspoken. He voiced his concerns and his opinions openly, and outwardly empathized with others. And though most clones were eager to get to the frontlines, Fives had been rearing and ready to go. Their personalities were vibrant and unique. They worked well with one another. They were a testament to their training, and they weren't going to let down whomever they served under.
Elara's head perked up a little at that thought.
"Say, Rex… is the 501st looking for any new recruits?" she asked.
Rex and Ack-Ack––who walked on either side of the Jedi––looked down at her simultaneously. There was a faint smile starting to crawl across her face, slow and bordering mischievous. It was the Skywalker mischievousness, something both captains were familiar with. And, in this instance, one that started to reflect in Rex's own expression.
"I think we might be."
OOOO
Nevarro, Outer Rim Territories
The stink of the cantina was always the same. It smelled like the stale, spilled drinks that made the tables sticky, like the musky pipe smoke that curled through the hazy light of the window behind the bar, and the stench of sweat got worse the hotter it was outside. And given the fact the planet was volcanic––it was hot. A lot. But no one ever expected a cantina to smell like a Nabooian bathhouse, laced with fancy perfumes and floral soaps. No, this was a place of disrepute, and everything about it reflected that nature. From the smell, to the cracking plaster walls, to the figures that lurked in dark corners, scarves and hoods drawn over their faces. Hands were kept close to money pouches and blasters. Eyes slipped slyly from being to being, wondering if the next person through the door was going to cause trouble.
This magnificently vile place was Kelvjak Mushor's office. An agent of the Bounty Hunters' Guild, Kelvjak would sit in a back corner booth, lounging with feet up on the table till someone came to him. There were usually two types that entered his office. The first kind were the swaggering hunters that came to find their next quarry, or were coming to collect on one they'd just caught. The second kind were the ones who slipped shiftily into the booth across from him, murmuring information about placing a price on someone's head. Kelvjak found the first type easier to deal with. The second type got too nervous sometimes, got on his nerves if they stumbled over words because they'd 'never done this before.' The second type were often too scared to do the capturing or the killing themselves. The bounty hunters were more interesting. They were more fun.
It was particularly hot that day, and the room stank more than usual. It left a perpetual scrunch to Kelvjak's nose, which resulted in a kind of sneer pulling at his mouth. No one had stopped by the booth that morning, which some might attribute to the aforementioned look on his face. But that wasn't why, and he knew it. Kelvjak might've been considered handsome if he weren't so despicable. All dark hair and sharp eyes, he could charm anyone he wanted to on looks alone. He'd been called slippery––which, honestly, was a compliment given his line of work––and slimy––that one he didn't appreciate––and a whole slew of other things that would send polite company fainting. Even amongst fellow bounty hunters he was considered cruel and uncaring. If he ever found himself out on a job instead of organizing bounties, his fellows would mutter prayers for whoever he was tracking. Kelvjak was an unfair, black-hearted man with a face that better belonged to royalty.
But the galaxy is a cruel place, he'd always say. Why should he be kind to it when it had never been kind to him?
Just as Kelvjak was about to wave to the bartender for another drink––someone entered the cantina. They walked with the swagger of a hunter, but had their face hidden like a coward. This perked Kelvjak's attention. He craned his head to the side so he could peer around his boots, which were kicked up on the table. The stranger was wearing a cloak, but it was only draped over one of their shoulders and tied around their middle. The hood had been tactfully pulled to hide their face. Whoever they were, they weren't from Nevarro. The place was too hot for fabric that thick. He watched as the stranger stopped and turned their head, the hood shifting as they scanned the room. When their shadowed visage stopped in Kelvjak's direction, he knew things were going to get interesting.
The stranger made a confident bee-line for Kelvjak's back-corner alcove. And once they were there, they didn't stop to be given permission to sit down. No. Instead, they slipped into the booth across from Kelvjak with a boldness that suited someone who'd done this before. A smirk started to curl at the corner of his mouth. Oh, yes; this was going to be very interesting.
"Can I get you a drink?" he asked. The hood nodded. Kelvjak pulled his feet off the table, and whisked two fingers through the air in a loop. Across the room, the bartender abandoned what they were doing and started to make two drinks. "So. What brings you to my humble corner of the galaxy?" He lounged back against the bench, across the back of which he draped his arm.
"I've got someone that needs taking care of," the stranger, a man, grumbled. His voice was gruff, like he'd swallowed a mouthful of sand and it stuck there.
The barkeep arrived and placed two murky looking drinks on the table, keeping completely silent during the delivery. Once they'd slipped away, Kelvjak nodded his head.
"Alright. Who're you looking for? You get jilted by a lover? Someone kill your brother?" He snagge his drink off the table and took a swig of the muddy looking liquid.
The stranger reached up and knocked his hood back. A head of patchy hair interrupted by ribbons of scarring was bared to the dusky cantina lighting. His face was grim, and the look was only emphasized by a scar that pulled one eyebrow lower than the other. There was a reddish hue across his nose and cheeks, the sort of thing that came from years of constant sun exposure. But his skin was pale, showing no signs of having been in the sun anytime recently.
"A woman."
"Jilted lover then?"
"A Jedi."
Kelvjak froze. He stared at the man across from him, shock zipping through his system. It wasn't often that Kelvjak was truly shocked in this profession. Sometimes people wanted people dead. Sometimes people ran away, and other people wanted them back. Who was he to judge? This was how he made a living. But never before, not once had anyone come in asking about putting a bounty on a Jedi.
"A Jedi," Kelvjak repeated.
"Lasersword and all," the man confirmed.
A laugh started to bubble out of Kelvjak's mouth. This had to be a joke, surely. Surely. Not even he would go after a Jedi, that was suicide. The stranger's expression remained unchanged, his drink untouched. Kelvjak swallowed down his laughter and leaned forward against the table. "You're sure this broad's a Jedi?"
The man's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I'm sure."
"That… that would incur a large bounty, you know that, right?"
"I know. I'm willing to pay whatever I have to."
Kelvjak started to tap his fingers against the tabletop, lips pulling into a thin line. Interesting indeed… "You… you do know most hunters won't go after a Jedi, right?"
"All the same, I want the bounty on her," the stranger insisted. His gaze was unwavering, and for the first time in a long time, Kelvjak was unsettled. It wasn't every day that someone put a bounty out on a Jedi; which means that he'd done something to have dealings with one. That, in itself, had Kelvjak a little less cocky, and a little more wary. Besides, work was work, Jedi or not.
"Alright," he cleared his throat and pulled a datapad out of his coat pocket. "Description?"
The man's eyes shifted focus, like he was peering into a memory. His lips twisted into a hateful snarl as he recalled whatever this Jedi looked like.
"Blue eyes. Her hair was… brown or somethin' like that. Short, long braid behind one ear. Dunno how old she was then, but… might be thirty now. Not too tall, probably 'bout as tall as that barkeep."
"D'you, uh… you have her name?"
"Elara Skywalker."
Kelvjak's fingers froze over his datapad. He stared at the screen for a long moment as the name sank in. With the war on, it was impossible not to hear about the battles and the names that fought them. Separatist or Republic, the names and stories circulated in cantinas and on the HoloNet alike. This Jedi, the one this man wanted hunted, was notable enough that even Kelvjak had heard of her. Why she was notable, he didn't know, nor did he care. That just meant that this already tough job was gonna be tougher. Finally, his fingers moved and typed in the Jedi's name.
The next question stuck in his throat a bit.
"Dead or alive?"
Either option was gonna be difficult.
The stranger leaned forward slowly, the sticky table creaking a little under his sizable bulk. Kelvjak caught and kept his gaze. He didn't back down, no matter how bantha-shit the client may be.
"I don't care how injured she is when she gets to me, but I want her alive. I'm gonna deal with her myself," he nearly growled.
Kelvjak stared hard at the stranger. He had the look of someone who'd had to fight to make a living. There was a hardness to people that were in this line of word, and they all wore it differently. Some hid behind masks and helmets, others wore it in the creases on their faces. But in this man… Kelvjak saw it everywhere. From the untidiness of his hair, the slashes of scarring across his head, and the raggedness of his clothing. This man was––or had been––a bounty hunter. But something had happened. He wasn't going out there to handle it himself, he was being enterprising, getting someone else in on it. Whatever had happened––perhaps between him and the Jedi––had changed him drastically.
"Who'd you used to work for?" Kelvjak asked boldly.
The man's entire body went rigid. He threw a look over his shoulder, mouth tensing; his fingers twitched nervously, blunt nails scraping across the tabletop. "Doesn't matter."
The man walked like a hunter, but dressed like a coward. He was new to being on his own, he'd worked with a partner.
"They kick you out of the Guild?"
The man's head snapped around so fast, Kelvjak would be surprised if he hadn't pulled something. There was a wildness to his eyes that hadn't been there before. "It doesn't matter. It… it doesn't matter. I-I wasn't Guild, I was… employed by an independent party… But it doesn't matter."
Kelvjak cleared his throat and bobbed his head in a nod. He snapped his gaze back down to the datapad and the last empty field on the screen. "And who is it I should contact when the contract has been taken and fulfilled?"
The man grabbed the cup from in front of him and swung it up to his mouth. He gulped down its contents quickly, thin rivulets of liquid slipping down his scruffy chin. The cup was slapped back down, and his hand tightened around the glass, knuckles going white.
"Me. Just call me Wyle."
Afterword: So, my brain mistakenly informed me 'ARC Troopers' followed 'Rookies' chronologically, which it does not. So I had to go in and replan a lot of stuff, but it's all settled now! We'll be moving on to 'Dooku Captured' next chapter, which I have been itching to write since I first saw it!
Review Replies!:
ZabuzasGirl: We chatted before, but I still promise Clone Cadets will come out as a one shot! I was just horridly blocked with it at the time. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
RemiSparklez: If there's one thing that I love seeing in pieces of media that depict war, its downtime. Like, there's nothing that gets me smiling more than seeing soldiers get the chance to just relax and have downtime. 'Cause they deserve it. And it's also a nice reminder that soldiers are people still. And I had a lot of fun creating the game! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
MidnightReader1: Thank you so much! I've been having a lot of fun writing the clones, they're such a great bunch. Thanks again, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
DCDGojira: Thank you! And Merry Christmas!
XxXxMuseXxXx: I wish we'd gotten more downtime/bonding stuff with the troopers and the Jedi in the show. It just helps flesh out how close they all must've been. So I love getting to write those bits, and I look forward to more of them! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
weasleylover10: I'm happy you like the review replies! I've always loved having this space to chat with people, and it makes me immeasurably happy to read that you guys like reading each other's reviews and the subsequent replies. It's awesome! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
09sasha: Elara's losing the game was definitely partially intentional. If she'd held Obi-Wan's gaze any longer––she'd probably have spiraled into existential dread. And we can, indeed, see Elara trying to put a healthy distance between herself and Obi-Wan… and glimpses of poor Obi-Wan doing the same. And I'm thinking that, unless things get way too long, I'll be keeping the replies here! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
Vanafindiel: Ahh, thank you so much! I can't imagine Elara being the type of person to bail and mope. Her mood's been killed, but she isn't going to let it kill everyone else's, especially when it's the only chance they're gonna have to cut loose for a while, yet. I've been contemplating the Zillo Beast episode! It wasn't on my original list, but I've been revising the episode list recently. And I think I'm keeping the review replies where they are, unless things get truly, truly too long. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
MsRosePetal: I've gone through multiple iterations of the 'first move' as it were. For a long time, I always thought I had it figured who'd be the one to do it; and, fairly recently, that thought changed completely. As I've written their relationship and as it's developed, it's changed and changed more fittingly. I will say that while Elara is more familiar with the feeling of love as a general, Obi-Wan isn't wholly ignorant to it. This might just be the first time he's felt it so strongly. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
northernfiction: Thank you! I'm relatively new to the Clone Wars era, having watched it over quarantine, so I am incredibly flattered you've viewed this as a good piece of Clone Wars era fic! I'm also so, so happy that you enjoy Elara as a character, and see her as a fully integrated character in-universe. It's genuinely been my pleasure to get chapters up quickly. I love getting these out so y'all can read them! I adore getting to share this story. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
Shadow Wolf 15836: Thank you! I had a lot of fun creating the game, and making sure it seemed playable. And the show is really good! It took me a bit to get through it all (seven seasons and all that), but it was well worth it! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
Pinnney: I've also missed clone time, so last chapter was a great change from all the warring going on! The 442nd adores their Genny, and they would absolutely get into a fight at any bar if someone so much as spoke an ill word against her. I. Loved. Writing. The. Teasing. Last. Time. Oh, and once they both know… the teasing/flirting is going to be hilariously unbearable to everyone around them. And, y'know, Obi-Wan may just be the one to break… Elara is pretty resolutely trying to put the breaks on, no matter how much she doesn't want to. Also, I'm so glad that you also think they didn't do Poe nearly enough justice. They panned his character in RoS (as they did with Finn, and Rose, and, quite frankly, Hux), and I can't wait to do some good ol' deep-diving into his character. Also, my idea for a Din story is coming along well! Still in early stages, but… I've got time! Merry Christmas to you, too, and if I don't get a chapter up before the 31st, happy New Years! And I'm so glad that you've found this story, that you've enjoyed it so much, and hopefully brightened a little bit of the hellscape that's been 2020. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
MotherAiya: Ahh, that is exactly the reaction that I wanted from Obi-Wan's little tease! I figured that, realistically, he's gotta be a flirtatious bastard once he's had a bit to drink and the lady he likes is sitting across from him. In thinking about how Elara would go about the fact she's, y'know, falling in love, I've always kept her relationship with the Code in mind. Because she joined the Order after twentyish years of having free reign of her emotions. So her view on what 'love' is is much different to the grey view the Jedi have on it. They view it purely as a path to Darkness; but Elara knows that's not necessarily correct. So she's definitely trying to figure out her own emotions regarding what's right and wrong. And the general consensus of everyone's guessing is that Obi-Wan will be the one to make the first move––and it's certainly shaping up to look that way, isn't it? I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
Elizabeth: Thank you so much! I'm a sucker for tiny details, they really do help bring a world and a story together. And for me, it really helps develop the world and makes it feel real, especially in a sci-fi set universe. I'm so happy you've enjoyed all the details as much as I like writing them! Giving all characters their own time is also very important to me. Because as much as this story is primarily about Elara and Obi-Wan, it's about Anakin, Ahsoka, Padmé and everyone else, too. Without them, the story becomes horrifically one dimensional. This is, perhaps, the slowest burn I've ever written, and it's excruciating even to me! I get worried, every once in a while, that it's too slow, so it's good to know that it's still reading well, realistically, and is still interesting! And we're ever closer to bringing Satine into this story and I am so excited. I love Satine so, so much. And I'm gonna keep the review replies here! I really love chatting with everyone, and getting to know who's reading this story! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
PhAnToM 1212: I actually have a real life Lieutenant/Captain/Major from WWII that's inspired a lot of Elara's ideals for being a commander during wartime. I'm always struck by stories of high ranking officers that really care for their soldiers, and I thought that Elara fit the bill for that kind of care. Also, 'three Jedi Generals and a couple clone troopers walk into a bar' sounds like the start to an amazing joke. I love writing Obi-Lara, even if it has to be angsty. Also, I loved reading your favorite quotes! I love knowing what y'all pick up on as you read. And it's also really neat to see how many of you guys like reading one anothers reviews/replies to them. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
Eomy: Just to address your question first––it's part of the clones' vernacular to use 'sir' with anyone regardless of their gender. It confused me too, initially. I would love to get my friends to play moulee-rah moocha, just 'cause it's so simple… but it could sew so much chaos, regardless of if you're imbibing or not. We're definitely entering the home stretch of the confession/acknowledgement/snapping of judgement. Elara and Obi-Wan are both clearly trying to put their feelings aside, but it's simply not working for them. I mentioned in another review that I fully believe that Obi-Wan would be an outrageous flirt one he's had a little to drink. And thus, the 'dirty' comment was born. Also, I finally grasped hold of a decent idea for a future Mando story! It's early days, but I'm liking what I've got so far. And I'll certainly let you know if I need to chat about it, that would be lovely. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again, and Merry Christmas!
thenerdnextdoor: A lot of the rapport developing between Elara and her men has basis in real life events. I'm a bit of a military history nerd, and I love stories about soldiers bonding in their down time, and superior officers who didn't see themselves as actually superior to the men they were leading. And the last chapter was a great chance to really start diving into who the members of Contigo Squadron really are. And, oh, poor Anakin's gotta be so confused. He's definitely sensing some of her distress, and since she often puts on a brave face to hide it he's just like '?' The dot connecting will begin soon… I have had arguments (good natured, of course) with friends about the Jedi's views on love. I think that they have a very black-and-white view of it, and don't realize how much of a help it could be. I agree––there needs to be a balance (ahh, look, the title!) in order for them not to fall to the wayside. And I also think that's where they wanted to go with Rey, but that's a conversation for a whole other time. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
camelotprincess1: I'm so glad you enjoyed the last chapter! I had a blast writing it, since it was the first chance I really got to dive into all of Contigo Squadron's characters. I'd already had a decent grasp on Blinker, Gunney, and Ack-Ack, but Klick and Strafer hadn't had a chance to shine just yet. And there's a fascinating interview clip I've got saved somewhere where Dave Filoni talked about how the Jedi became incredibly political by the time the Clone Wars rolled around. They cared about the galaxy, but they did it distantly. But there were Jedi like Qui-Gon––and, eventually, Yoda––who realized that was not the way. The Jedi needed more compassion. More love. I adore getting to write the boys––it can be hard, sometimes, to keep it straight in my head, but it's getting better. The more I write them the easier it is. 'Cause I'm able to identify their personalities enough now to make observations like 'Blinker is kinda like Klaus from Umbrella Academy when he's drinking (i.e. the spilled drink incident).' The 'my Skywalker is better than your Skywalker' contest has only just begun; and it'll only get more heated! It's gonna be real fun. Writing Elara's POV last chapter took a long time. It's the first time I fully addressed a lot of what I'd written. For a long time it's all been in my head, and I suddenly realized I'd never stated it exclusively in the story. I'm so happy that you enjoyed it! The troopers… definitely are gonna have a betting pool. That's just how it has to happen. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
RJNorth: I love that you're going to be signing on and off of comments with quotes––I'm delighted by it (this is the way). I can't blame you at all for forgetting things like the betrothal; there are things that I sometimes forget about until someone jogs my memory, and I'm the one writing the story. That's just what happens when something reaches 34 chapters. Also, Ani does not know about the betrothal. That was something that both Elara and Obi-Wan redacted from their reports to the Council, and neither of them ever told Ani. He surely knows that Obi-Wan gives Elara flowers 'for botany purposes,' but wait till he finds out what that snow blossom means… whoo boy. And one thing is for sure––he's certainly gonna feel some type of way once Elara and Obi-Wan are much obviously closer than they've ever been. For the longest time, Anakin has been the closest to Elara… and once that changes… it's gonna be a lot for him. I'm so glad you enjoyed reading Elara's internal struggle! I thought it was about time to go into some good, healthy detail about everything. And, oh… oh, the carnal desires… though it's not something I've addressed (yet) I certainly have a list of, for lack of a better term, headcanons about such matters. And that's an idea that I've had before actually––both of them being in some sort of situation where they see a couple and it just… stirs something in them. 'Cause they've still gotta discuss Obi-Wan's time with Satine, too. And Palps will absolutely try and use Elara's feelings against her. He's already planted the first seed––he once told her that 'the heart is the truest guide.' And he's definitely gonna try harder and harder to use her heart against her. In the whole idea of 'Ani and Lari being the Good and the Bad' makes me so excited to get to the Mortis arc. 'Cause so much of that stuff gets addressed then. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter and that all is well with you! All is well with me, but I'm looking forward to the end of 2020 (and, y'know, I'm still reeling over the end of Mandalorian Season 2). May the Force be with you as well, Becca! Thanks again!
Duchess of Lantern Waste: Thank you so much! I'm very glad that you've been enjoying the story, and hope you enjoyed the newest chapter!
bambam411: I gotta let Obi-Wan get a little raunchy sometime––man deserves it, honestly, after having to be the voice of reason so often! I almost took the joke out but was like 'no. No it should be there.' This is the slowest burn I've written, and I'm very happy you've been enjoying it! Thanks again! And Joyeux Noël!
And thank you to those that added this to their follows/favorites; it means a lot!
Up next we've got 'Dooku Captured'! I love the mini-arc around these episodes, not only 'cause we finally get to meet Hondo––but cause it's truly bringing us a step closer to the breaking point for Obi-Lara. So much closer. Also, unless things get ridiculously long, the review replies will probably stay as they are! I've really loved reading how much you all enjoy the replies because you like reading each other's comments/seeing the replies to them. That's literally the coolest, and it warms my heart!
Happy Holidays to you all! And if I don't post before New Years, Happy New Years! Thanks again everyone, y'all rock!
~Mary
