Chapter 24

I really needed to stop getting injured on the battlefield, eating med bay food was getting a little old. That, and Master Plo had threatened to bench me unless I learned some self-preservation. I couldn't really argue with him on that point, I did have a tendency to put myself in harm's way to spare others, the thing is, that if I was getting injured this often it was because I was risking myself the way clones did on a regular basis. If they thought I was getting injured a lot, it was because clones were getting killed a lot. That didn't erase the fact that I probably had a savior complex and needed therapy, but that was beside the point. At the end of the day, it was all worth it. I didn't do these things for the clone's gratefulness or recognition, but it felt nice all the same. The best part of doing what I did was seeing the injured clones I saved being released from medical care. That was what kept me going.

Different battalions had different ways of showing loyalty, affection and gratefulness, I came to realize. The Pack made sure to integrate you to the force, welcome you in with open arms and regard you as a full fledged member of the family. The 501st was a little more clumsy in their approach, they refused to call you anything but the title they'd chosen for you and on rare occasions saluted you or even patted your shoulder or back.

The 212th on the other hand, were the kind of men that returned the favor silently. Just like their general, they were better at showing rather than telling, which is why T.H Boil and Waxer were assigned to be my official wingmen. And by wingman I mean shadows. It had been a unanimous decision of the three after the skirmish on Naboo. They had approached Commander Cody, and then General Kenobi with the idea. If I was going to put myself in so much danger for their sake, the least they could do was make sure I didn't get myself killed in the process, they said. Master Kenobi found the wording very amusing. He agreed to it because it would give him a little peace of mind since it would be harder for me to get killed with people actively trying to stop me from doing so.

A little peace of mind and a ton less anxiety. But he never said that, of course. Obi-Wan Kenobi would be dead before he told anyone a situation made him have feelings, but I had grown amongst the sand people and then lived with the Kel Dor. I knew stoic when I saw it, and I had learned how to read it. Master Kenobi was a lot easier to read than he thought, one just had to look at his actions rather than his words. There was a reason he had perfected sarcasm and made it into an art form, there was a reason for him to grow silent when things got rough. Obi-Wan Kenobi was many things, cold was not one of them.

I did also realize I would have to be more careful though. Severe injuries would be quite detrimental to my health in the long run, and I still wanted to be able to protect people once the war ended. But in order to do so, I would have to survive that long first. The thought of the war ending seemed incredibly far-fetched at the moment. Conflicts were starting in all corners of the galaxy, those that were already in motion continued to escalate, and the GAR's troops continued to be stretched even more thinly. The kaminoans were working overtime to provide fresh troops to aid the overworked ones and Jedi were being Knighted left and right to make up for the lack thereof in the battlefield. Things were complicated, and they would get even worse long before the war came to an end.

But there was no use in thinking about the future, I had to make sure to be present in the moment or I ran the risk of making mistakes I would surely regret. For now, I had to rest and recoup as best as I could and start preparing for our next assault on Felucia. We would be working alongside the 501st once again, and there was much work to do still. We had two battalions to coordinate, a patrol to organize and a planet to take. Even if battles often forced one to throw the plan out the window, it paid well to be prepared.

During my time in the med bay, I'd gotten into the habit of calling The Pack. It was usually Art who had the holo transmitter and passed it around the barracks whenever we spoke. I hadn't realized just how much I missed them until I was put on bed rest for an entire week after Naboo and there had been no one with me. No Art to tease me for being reckless, no Headfirst to punch my arm for being stupid, no annoyed Twitch to grumble about my savior complex. There was no Wolffe either to be angry at me in that quiet, exasperated way of his, no pat on the shoulder.

Naturally, none of them had said a thing about it when I called, only Art did that first time and quit instantly when I didn't laugh with him. They understood, they didn't say it but they missed me too. I would tell them about my day and they would return the favor, maybe throw in a funny anecdote of something silly one of them had done. It felt extremely lonely, but it comforted me to know they were there, whole, healthy and alive.

"Took your time," said Art when I called.

I had waited until the end of the day when I could have some peace and quiet in my quarters. I was sitting crossed legged on my bunk, the holo transmitter on the mattress in front of me.

"Sorry, we're moving in on Felucia soon so last minute details are taking most of my time," I answered honestly before yawning. "How 's the gang? You guys going anywhere soon?"

"Not right now, the General is dealing with things in the Temple and we were given a few days off before we are assigned another quadrant patrol," he said sitting down on his own bunk. "Things are quite boring without you here, Commander. None of the boys will let me work on them."

"That's because none of us want our entire bodies tattooed like the Commander does." Said a voice outside the hologram. It was most likely Headfirst.

I chuckled and smiled fondly, I missed them so much.

"Well, this will be my last assignment with Master Kenobi until new orders come in, so you'll have your canvas back in no time, Art." I said. "Just make sure you find some blue and orange ink, I'm gonna need it."

"How many?" He asked somberly, as if he felt the weight of every name he tattooed on my skin.

"Fourteen blue, one orange," I answered. "Orto Plutonia was especially rough on the 501st. I'll tell you about it when I see you."

I knew there was a chance of someone overhearing my conversations with Art, and although Jedi were allowed their opinions, my thoughts on Chairman Cho weren't exactly Jedi-like.

"Make sure you do," he answered before leaning back on his bunk and smirking. "By the way, Wolffe found out what you did on Naboo. He isn't happy."

I groaned, the man was going to put me through the grinder for this one. One thing was shielding someone on instinct, another thing entirely was compromising one's own health because 'I'm gonna die anyway'.

"Fuck, he's gonna kill me."

"Nah, he's just concerned for you, and a little overprotective if you ask me. I told him already Jedi can't have relationships but he doesn't seem to-"

"Art, stop teasing the man, he's got enough on his plate already."

"I'm just saying, if he wants to get laid, he should look elsewhere, Jedi code and everything…"

I laughed hard. I sometimes forgot the clones were younger than me even if they didn't look it.

"I mean he could if he found a Jedi looking to let off some steam." I kept laughing.

But Art seemed to freeze. He sat so still all of a sudden that I thought the signal was getting cut.

"What do you mean?" He asked finally, seemingly forcing himself out of his shock.

"Well, Jedi aren't allowed possessive relationships and emotional attachments, sex isn't necessarily forbidden. It depends on how the Jedi decides to interpret the c-"

"Are you telling me none of you are virgins?!" He probably was a little too loud about it considering he was inside the barracks, but I didn't really mind telling him since it was a common misconception.

"Are you telling me you thought Obi-Wan Kenobi was?" I laughed. "A man is not that sassy and confident if he isn't a great lay, he screams big d-"

"But wait, that means you…"

I laughed even harder.

"Is that really what you are worried about?" I wiped the tears from my eyes as I tried to answer without making him feel stupid about it. "I could if I wanted to, Art. I just chose not to because I need an emotional connection with a person to even want it, and since I am a Jedi and we don't allow those, sex isn't something I want because to me it implies an emotional attachment."

There was a beat of silence as he considered this. He even looked around beyond where the Hologram ended, probably to see if his brothers were as baffled by this as he was.

"I feel cheated," he said finally. "You are telling me I might have had a chance with General Fisto?"

I smirked and raised my eyebrow, now this was new intel to me.

"Art, I don't think the GAR rules of conduct allow for that either, regardless of Master Fisto's status as a Jedi."

He sighed dramatically.

"Yeah, I know but still."

I yawned again and tried to cover it with my hands. The day had been quite hectic, and I had an early morning the next day in order to put the finishing touches on the plan. I said goodbye to Art and turned the transmission off. Chatting with my friend always put me in a better mood, and to have that comfort before heading to bed made for very uneventful nights. I would let him deal with the new information I'd dumped on him, it would take a while for him to assimilate. It would also be less fun to stop him from trying to get me -or Force forbid, Master Plo Koon- laid. Art was a romantic at heart, he thrived when playing matchmaker, and I would definitely be one of his targets. I didn't mind though, it was fun to frustrate people into giving up.

I put the holo transmitter away before changing into my sleeping clothes. As I layed down,it occured to me that having such strong attachments to those around me might not be wise. But it felt so right, to have people to care for, to be cared for. It felt right to have friends, to have family, to have the care, love and loyalty of people. Oh and to give it back, to return it was even better. To protect, to care, to love, to miss. How could it be wrong? Yes, the explanation was simple enough. Attachments create strong feelings, and if those feelings are hurt then the way the person reacts might lead them to the dark side. But is it not the reaction the problem rather than the attachment? Surely healthy coping mechanisms and emotional maturity would be much more detrimental to the dark side, wouldn't they?

Wouldn't they?