Chapter 29

Wolffe had been working with General Plo Koon long enough not to ignore a Jedi's feelings. He knew Kriari, she was emotional on good days and would turn into a wreck on a bad one. He did admire her ability to feel everything she did and still be able to do her duty. He could never imagine what it would be to be force sensitive -he only knew they could feel things and people, and that was enough to put him off the idea, he had his hands full with his own issues, he didn't want other people's. Needless to say, her 'bad feeling' about the mission was making him weary.

The first time he had met the young Padawan he hadn't thought much about her. Yes, she was his commanding officer but her lack of knowledge and experience didn't go unnoticed, and neither did her willingness to learn and adapt. What stuck with him from the very beginning was her attitude towards him and his brothers. She stood her ground in the face of a negligent superior and stuck by her choices to the very end. He never forgot the names of the clones they saved that day, all because of her. She had taken the lead after the Order lost most of their masters in that blasted arena in Geonosis without question or hesitation and chose to save as many lives as she could.

The next time he saw her, the battle of Abregado happened, she almost died trying to get his brothers to safety. He had been angry, annoyed even, when they were all safely aboard the Twilight, but he had realized it was for the wrong reasons. I don't give a shit about the war effort, she had said. He never forgot the fire in her eyes when she said it, he never forgot the cold edge to her voice, cutting its way to his soul, he never forgot what he thought then: shit, she means it.

Wolffe never forgot Kriari's stubbornness and compassion, her selfless recklessness and how little she cared for her own life when it came to protecting theirs. He never forgot how she put him to sleep with one of those Jedi mind tricks when he was exhausted and running on empty. Wolffe was many things, forgetful was not one of them.

He is quite certain he will never forget the way his gut twisted when he saw the orange streak on her new armour -she was the one to name the 104th The Pack, the 212th had no place on her armour-, or the way she talked and laughed with Captain Rex after their first mission together, what did he know of Kriari that he didn't? He knew they were both the kind of people who make friends easily, but still he couldn't bring himself to forget the way the Captain patted your shoulder as if they'd been friends for years when it was him who had known her the longest.

But he would gladly forget all of that if it would get the image of Kriari working herself into a ball of stress off his mind. He had always known she was diligent, hard working and gunning for excellence in everything she did, but he had never imagined the weight of his brother's lives would come to be such a heavy burden to her. Kriari cared more than a Jedi should, more than a soldier could allow themselves to care, and still, knowing what carrying this burden was doing to her, she continued on. He couldn't really tell if she was that selfless or had such little self preservation. Had no one taught her to compartmentalize? He didn't think so.

So Wolffe did what he did best: he watched over her from the sidelines. He did his job to the best of his ability and urged others to do the same, the Commander didn't need the stress only stupid mistakes could give. He had The Pack watch over her when he couldn't and became her shadow when he could. He brought her caff to the bridge in the mornings and forced her to stop working during lunch. She had also taken to exhausting herself in the dojo before lights out, so he made sure she didn't stay up longer than she should.

He was quite surprised when he realized he didn't mind doing these little things for her. It was the least he could do when she was trying to keep all of them alive, right? What did surprise him was how increasingly protective of her he was getting. Art had teased him about it a few times, and he didn't care for her friendships with others, not really. But why was it that every time he remembered any of her injuries or near brushes with death he felt his rage simmering dangerously? He was not scared of death, every being in existence died at some point, but the thought of losing her of all people brought a side of him to the surface he didn't know he even had. That and the fact that, in his mind, she was no longer Commander Foreas, just Kriari.

What would he do if she died in combat? He shivered at the thought. He knew most of the 104th would single handedly bring the enemy to their knees if something happened to Commander Foreas, but Wolffe? Oh, Wolffe would do so much more than that. And the thought terrified him because he knew, deep down, that he was getting attached to her, more than he should, more than the GAR rules of conduct deemed appropriate. The thought terrified him because he had allowed himself to show it. Cool, collected, by-the-book Clone Commander Wolffe had allowed himself to show Kriari, to tell her she belonged with the 104th, that she belonged with him: he had gifted her a blade.

The blade, the one she kept with her at all times ever since he had given it to her. The one she had attached to her belt at the small of her back, the only other weapon he possessed other than her lightsaber. It gave him both comfort and immense satisfaction that -like many Jedi- she had refused to carry any weapon other than her saber up until that point, and now, his gift was the exception. Or, rather the 104th's gift was. But Wolffe doubted she believed that particular fib of his, either way he was glad she hadn't called him out on it if she knew he had been lying.

He watched Kriari as she studied a holomap of Khorm. She was leaning on the holotable and discussing with the admiral the different approaches they could take in case of a planetary blockade. She had forgone the armour that morning, wearing only her Jedi robes. She had rolled up her sleeves to the elbows, exposing her tattoos for the galaxy to see. Her tattoos gave him mixed feelings, and he was sure she felt the same way. The blue light of the holomaps made her look paler than she was, and made her black hair appear sleeker. Her Padawan braid moved from side to side as she spoke, and bounced against her neck whenever she turned her head. When he first met her, he'd thought the little horns crowning her head looked cute, that is until he saw her in the open battlefield for the first time. She had looked every bit the Jedi she was then. Now, in the fluorescent light of the bridge, they looked as sharp as her facial features. She had lost weight since the war started, they all had, but he mourned the loss of her softer face then, when it hadn't looked tired, restless, on the edge of breaking. The things he would do for her…

"I'm sure Commander Wolffe will agree with me on this one, right, Commander?" Asked the Admiral, bringing his musings to a sudden stop. He must have looked confused then because the man sighed before repeating himself. "Commander Foreas is too valuable to fly fighter escort in the event of a blockade. She should wait until a path has been cleared and she can board a LAAT/i to the planet surface."

"Admiral, I am not being overconfident when I say I'm a good pilot," ground Kriari in between her teeth, "I am not sending entire squadrons to fight a blockade on their own, besides, Wolffe will be in command while I'm flying. The chain of command will remain undisturbed."

"This is not about the chain of command, Child-"

Wolffe stepped forward at that, but his Commander put a hand up, somehow sensing his annoyance.

"I believe there has been a misunderstanding, Admiral," she started, voice cool and noncommittal, "Padawan or not, I am in charge of this mission, I am your Commanding Officer and you will address me and respect me as such, or we will be having more than a communication problem."

Wolffe could not see her eyes, but he was sure they were cutting through Vero Zapal's soul. He could feel her aura -or was it the Force around her?-, how it interacted with her annoyance, how she made everything feel cold, calculating, professional and dangerous. Kriari Foreas was dangerous, Wolffe had known that, had seen her in action, but it was here and now that he really understood. She could be emotional, but she could also suppress all those emotions and turn into one cold, unfeeling, deadly warrior, and for the first time in his life, Wolffe was scared of her. Her presence had turned from a warm, inviting, comforting one to something he imagined felt a lot like death. It was oppressive, cold, omnipresent and dangerous. It made his skin crawl and the hair on the back of his neck rise.

As if burnt by his fear, Kriari's aura receded, the cold around them disappeared, and Admiral Zapal took a deep inhale as if he had been holding his breath, his eyes never leaving Commander Foreas.

"I hope I made myself clear." She said finally before leaving the bridge without looking back.

"Crazy, reckless, prideful little witch." Muttered the admiral under his breath.

It took all of Wolffe's self control not to punch the man on the face.

"I hope you learn not to test the Commander, Admiral," said Wolffe as he started for the blast doors after his Commander, "She is not the patient type, and neither am I".

…

He found her at the dojo, beating the shit out of a sandbag. In hindsight, that should have been warning enough as to what her mood was. But for some reason, logic went out the garbage shoot when it came to her. He wasn't stupid enough to offer himself as a punchbag, but at least he could talk to her from the sidelines. As he approached her, he realized it might not be such a good idea, not with how she was hitting the sandbag.

Her face was like one carved out of stone, all sharp edges and unseeing eyes. She was livid, and he had never seen her this angry. He had seen a bit of it the first time Headfirst had tried to challenge her, but it was nothing compared to this. Kriari was a very vocal person, if something annoyed her, saddened her or made her happy, she would let everyone know. He knew this was serious because the only thing that could be heard in the empty dojo was her hitting the sandbag. Fists, elbows, balls of the hands, backs of the hands, shins, any and every extremity hit the bag with more force than it could probably take. It was a fearsome sight. So Wolffe sat on a bench and waited.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but she was red in the face and sweating when she finally stopped to catch her breath. She didn't stop staring at the punchbag in front of her, though, her stance was still flawless and she looked like she was debating between continuing her assault or addressing Wolffe.

"Are you done moping?" He asked finally.

Kriari's head whipped around to look at him, wild with anger and red from physical exertion. She must have realized she had allowed herself to become too worked up, and that Wolffe's comment was meant to bring her back to the here and now. She sighed and deflated as the fight abandoned her and she went to sit next to him on the bench.

"That was unprofessional, forgive me." She said, resting her elbows on her knees and her face on her hands. "I need to get better at that, otherwise I'm never gonna be knighted."

He said nothing as he passed her a bottle of water. He didn't have to, it wasn't his place. As she had told her before: he wouldn't understand, he couldn't. All he could do was have her back and help her pick up the pieces. That and next time someone tried to disrespect her… well, Wolffe might be a Commander, but decking people in the face was not beneath him.

"You did well up on the bridge," he reassured. "as long as you vent in a safe environment around people who won't prey on your vulnerability you'll be fine, Commander."

She sighed before looking at him. It was almost too hard for Wolffe to look her in the eyes, they were so sincere, so full of her, her feelings so very visible on the surface. He felt like he was walking in on something he should never see in such a vulnerable state. He couldn't stand to see her like that, not her. He refused to see her like that, the thought that something or someone could break her or harm her in that state made him want to protect her more fiercely than ever. Because Kriari Foreas was not a weak person, but she left herself too open and someone needed to guard that opening for her.

She nodded and sighed before standing up. Kriari took a few seconds to compose herself and when she looked at him the next moment, all of her turmoil seemed to be gone. But Wolffe knew better.

"Coming, Commander Wolffe?" she asked, looking down at him with a small smile. "We've got work to do still."

He wanted to comfort her, take her hand, pat her shoulder or maybe her cheek, but the moment had passed and it would have been unprofessional. So instead, Wolffe stood up before nodding, giving her one last meaningful look.

"Right behind you, Commander."