Author's Note: A huge thanks to laloga, who suggested this scenario.

Weariness

There was no mess hall, so Garett settled next to one of the many fire-pits the troopers had built, trying not to spill his bowlful of thin soup.

"Force," he groaned and leaned his head against the crate serving as his backrest. He hadn't felt this bone weary since Geonosis. His entire body was a dull, throbbing ache, the muscles sore and tense. He could have banished the pain, easing it back into the subtle currents of the Force, but he was too tired even for that relatively simple exercise. And he wasn't the only one. Past the fatigue-induced headache, Garett could feel the hastily set-up camp exhale its exhaustion. Even the Force felt tired, stretched thin from exertion.

He ate a spoonful of the soup, grimacing at the watery taste. Ration-stew, as the troopers called it, might have all the proteins and calories a body needed, but it had about as much taste as...something...bland.

Sweet Core, he was even too tired for similes. Now if only he could actually get some sleep.

Garett rubbed at his eyes; they felt as full of grit and sand as a Tatooine sandbox. But though the light thrown off by the fire only aggravated his discomfort, sitting out here in the fresh air was still far preferable to being back in his stuffy tent, tossing and turning on his pallet with no end in sight to his circling thoughts.

I'm frazzled past all common sense, he thought as he doggedly made his way through the terrible soup. Perhaps it was time to speak to one of the medics about a soporific; he was of shamefully little use in this state.

A log cracked in the fire and the sound of approaching footsteps caused Garett to jerk upright.

"Wh..."

"General Arhen, permission to take a seat, sir?"

Garett blinked a few times, squinting as he tried to force the armored shape before him into focus. Minimal maroon piping on the legs and arms, captain's insignia; the helmet tucked beneath one arm at an angle so sharp it couldn't be anything but exact regulation standard, a painfully correct haircut...

"Of course, Captain Kase." Garett hurriedly nodded towards the empty space beside him as he put a name to the face. He felt a not-insuficient amount of satisfaction as the captain thanked him and settled down, proving that Garett had guessed correctly. And if that doesn't prove how tired I am...He couldn't even finish the thought, his head felt so fuzzy.

The captain did not sit beside his general, but kept a respectful distance away from his commanding officer. Garett waited, half-expecting Kase to start up a conversation, but Elix's captain didn't appear to be interested. After observing the necessary formalities, Kase pulled a datapad out of his pack and began to read.

At once relieved - he really didn't feel up to holding an intelligent conversation - and slightly disappointed at being usurped by a datapad, Garett turned his attention back to his bowl. Much to his amazement, he discovered that the tiny rest of soup he'd failed to scrape from the bottom had grown cold and congealed. He poked the leftovers with his spoon and a small, brown lump of half-softened ration bar floated to the surface.

O'sic actually enjoyed eating rations, but as far as Garett was able to tell, he was the only one. Good thing I wasn't really hungry to begin with. He tossed the rest of the soup into the fire, where it sizzled and made the fire sputter and spark.

Garett leaned back against the crate, arms folded over his stomach. He closed his eyes, trying to touch the Force and find some solace for himself there. Perhaps he should meditate and hope that the effort would send him to sleep.

But his mind kept prowling through the camp, pricked into impotent alertness by the ripples of disturbance generated in the Force by soldiers pushed past their limits and ordered to continue anyway. Garett was not a particularly strong Force-empath, but even he could feel the mingled frustration and grief of his men, as they forcefully pushed the sorrow over fallen comrades away and focused on preparing for another day of fighting - and more dead, for whom there was no time to mourn.

And then he hit a...a blank spot.

No, that wasn't right. Garett furrowed his brow in thought. There was a point in the Force that was...not blank, but simply devoid of the nervous energy and stress that had kept him from dropping off to sleep. This was calm and the source was sitting right next to him.

Startled, Garett sat up from his slouch and turned incredulous, blood-shot eyes on the captain.

Captain Kase seemed unaware of his scrutiny, utterly enthralled by whatever it was he was reading and he was...relaxed, calm. The Force around him had settled into a smooth partition with something akin to a sigh of relief, separating Kase from the fraying fabric that was the rest of the camp.

It was a testament to his surprise and fatigue that Garett spoke before thinking. "How do you do that?"

Kase looked up from the 'pad, a small frown the only outward sign of his confusion. "Sir, I am afraid I do not understand the question. What precisely am I doing that you would like me to explain?"

For a moment, Garett wondered if the captain was being sarcastic, but there was no hint of that in the man's Force-signature. The Jedi rubbed at his forehead, mentally cursing himself for his slip. He briefly considered explaining, then decided he didn't have the wits or the energy for a long discussion about the workings of the Force with a non-Force-sensitive. "My apologies, Captain. What I wanted to ask was what are you reading?" He nodded at the datapad in Kase's hand.

Kase looked down at the 'pad and Garett felt him relax just the tiniest bit. He even thought he caught a glimmer of joy, but Kase was too stolid for him to get an accurate read.

"I am rereading the maintenance manual for the DC-15S, sir."

"Rereading?" Garett asked stupidly. Force above and beyond, he hadn't even gotten through all of the manuals once in all the months he'd been knighted.

"Yes, sir." Kase straightened even more, obvious pride somewhat softening his usually aloof features. "Naturally the information contained within the manuals was part of my flash-training, but I feel that it is important for an officer of my station to regularly re-familiarize oneself with the information contained, so as to keep it at the forefront of ones mind. Proper weapon maintenance is key to the success of any army."

Garett scratched the growing stubble on his chin. "I...see." He didn't think he'd ever heard the captain speak so much all at once, nor so - for lack of a better word - animated. It occurred to Garett that he really didn't know all that much about Captain Kase. Aside from his brief courtesy call and one very memorable presentation - on the virtues of sabacc of all things - Garett didn't think he and Kase had exchanged more than courtesies in all the weeks Elix Company had been part of the 49th Blazer Corps.

What does he do during his off hours? Why is he sitting with me, instead of his brothers? How does he take his caf?

"And you enjoy reading these manuals, Captain?"

"Sir." Kase appeared slightly puzzled by the question and the pool of calm surrounding him rippled ever so gently, as if a daywing had alighted on the surface of a lake.

Leave it be for now, Garett admonished himself and gave the captain a reassuring smile. "Never mind me, Captain. I'm weary beyond all sense. Please, continue with your study. I won't disturb you further."

Kase did not look wholly convinced and Garett assumed the captain was far too used to unwelcome interruptions, but the man merely nodded and gave a polilte, "Yes, sir," before dropping his eyes back to his 'pad.

Garett settled himself back against he crate, wriggling until he'd found a semi-confortable position from which to watch and study Kase. Not with his eyes, for staring would have been rude, but through the Force.

Looking with his Force-sight, Kase was transformed from a dry and prim trooper to a perfectly round piece of silvery-white crystal. Though he came across as stiff, Garett sensed no hard or cutting edges to the man. He was blunt, but not purposefully hurtful and as solid and straightforward as only a piece of rock could be. Cool, smooth and utterly unshakable and in this moment, perfectly content and somehow...reassured of the world around him.

Garett breathed in the man's calm, watching the silver-white light of the Kase's presence settle comfortably into his shape as he absorbed the words of the manual; words he already knew by heart, but whose steady repetitiveness gave him comfort in a time that was unsettled and chaotic.

Slowly, Garett's own hectic thoughts quieted down and he finally dropped off to sleep, lulled by the stolid bulwark of Captain Kase.