Wolffe growled when he entered the barracks on Coruscant once more. The latest tour across the galaxy had been just as cruel as usual, perhaps even worse in some cases. Battling droids of distant worlds and in the endless vacuum of space was far better than some of the relief missions the 104th had been sent on and some of the often brainless Nerf herders who were put in command of missions.
"Commander," called Boost, already sensing Wolffe's frustrations; everyone aboard the cruiser could, regardless of whether they were forced sensitive. "Coming to 79's?" he asked, receiving his answer in the simple form of a growl, the one Wolffe sent to those around him when he wanted to be left alone.
"Don't do anything stupid," spoke Wolffe, his comment chasing Boost from the cold barracks. Wolffe grabbed the datapad resting on the shelf behind his bunch with little thought, rarely used compared to commanders. Mindlessly, he found himself searching the logs again; initially, he didn't know why. Perhaps it was out of habit to see if some of his brothers were back on shore leave two or if he'd be spending the hours alone; maybe he could get around to reading some of the books he found an interest in.
Silence seemed to grow more comfortable as Wolffe mindlessly scrolled through the logs. Many legions had returned before the 104th, some since their much-needed retreat from the front lines, but just as many had departed Coruscant in the hours before, too. The 501st had been ascending the skies of Coruscant as the 104th had been arriving, practically celebrating a familiar sight.
"Can't I rest in peace?" asked Wolffe upon hearing the familiar sound of the door to his private room woosh open. He'd been under the impression that Comet, Warthog, or one of the boys was coming to convince him to join them at 79's.
"Nope," Gregor chuckled in response. Welcome to the not-so-peaceful retreat away from war," he commented with the same lighthearted chuckle. Despite the words flooding Gregor's lips, Wolffe couldn't help but find comfort in the Commando. If he was there, then surely that meant his Jedi General was on Coruscant, too.
"I take it Ca'tra is also back on Coruscant?" questioned Wolffe, finding it almost funny how the pair always seemed to cross paths when away from the battlefield. However, his most recent encounter with her was in a cruel warzone. He found out quickly just how skilled she was as a warrior and how heart-stoppingly reckless she could be.
"She was sent on a relief mission," replied Gregor, trying to rack his memory for the last time he could recall the Dathomirian being set on a relief mission, even more so when it wasn't her specialty. "She seemed just as confused about it, but Senators Organa and Amidala requested her specifically."
"Ca'tra, on an aid mission …" smirked Wolffe, as if he could imagine the havoc she could cause, although he could understand why the senators requested her. Despite her lack of trust in most of the Jedi, she was among the best in the order; her unorthodoxy also came as a challenge for the enemy when it came to predicting her movements. "What about the rest of you, Commandoes?" questioned Wolffe, as if suddenly suspicious of where they were and what they were doing if their Jedi General wasn't around to keep them on their toes.
"Wherever we're needed," replied Gregor as if to defend the others. We at the Foxtrot unit are here until 0900 hours tomorrow, and then we're off to aid the 212th and 501st on Umbara. Delta and Omega units are with us. " He added this to illuminate the old ways of the commandoes ignoring the Senate. Jedi alike were a thing of the past. "Our princess gave us orders before she left, and we intend to follow them."
Wolffe huffed a laugh upon hearing another Commando refer to (Y/N) as Princess. He'd thought about asking one of them about the chosen nickname but soon realized Plo also similarly referred to her, generally by the variation of a little princess.
"Why do you call her Princess?" asked Wolffe, finding the spurt of confidence to word the knawing question; almost every Commando in the GAR referred to (Y/N) by the royal title; very few, if any, called her general, not even the more obedient ones did."
"Her title," voiced Gregor with confusion; quickly, he summarized his previous assumption everyone knew had been wrong. "We clones are taught to call our superiors by their highest ranking title. (Y/N)' s is the Princess of Dathomir," he explained, again shining a light on a truth that seemed to have alluded Wolffe. As well as possibly answering why she got away with so much.
"You're assuming he speaks to her outside of imaginary conversations," teased Fox, casually ignoring the death glare Wolffe threw at him. "He hasn't spoken to her since finding out what the Jedi's failure was," added the Marshall Commander, highlighting how awkward things were between the two if they weren't sharing a typical battlefield.
"Speaking of which, how did you find out about it?" asked Wolffe, his voice stern as he focused on getting answers to questions, even more so when he could remember (Y/N) saying she didn't know how Fox had found out.
"Old Palps," replied Fox with dread flooding his voice; still, he theorized there was a reason the chancellor had sent the file over without prompt, even more so when Fox was sure the old man hadn't done it out of the kindness of his heart. Deep down, he'd questioned if it was related to the never-ending nightmares almost every clone suffered or if it was related to whatever the politician schemed from the shadows when he thought no one was looking.
"Now that's interesting," spoke Gregor as if he had an incline of what the two akin to twins were talking about; in truth, he didn't, but he also didn't mind not being in the know. Night Sisters were mysterious to all who came upon them; he saw no reason to unravel such mysteries. Even more so when the one he referred to as Princess seemed to bug Wolffe in many ways. "She evades him more than sleep does you."
"She's good at it, though; not even Skywalker can get her near him without some sort of trouble," announced Fox, as if he could see the last effort Anakin had to get said Night Sister to the chancellor's office. Still, no one knew what that meeting was about outside those involved. Whatever it had been about had some odd consequences; Skywalker had become distrusting of the Jedi Council, more than usual at least, and become protective of several that often appeared in his close circle, Senator Amidala, Ahsoka, and (Y/N) among them.
(Y/N) On the other hand, she drowned the night away at some questionable nightclubs on Coruscant's sublevels. Thankfully, she hadn't gotten into trouble outside the expected drunken maylays that normally occurred. Most ignored her being there outside the normal intrigued one had when coming upon a Night Sister outside of Dathomir.
"She'll be back from her relief mission tomorrow. Do me a favor and actually talk to her," called Fox, suspecting (Y/N) was who Wolffe was looking for when Gregor had disturbed the peace. "She doesn't bite Wolffe, and as you found out, she's just as confused by you as you are about her," he added, recalling his experiences with the tricky sickness of love.
Senator Chuchi had been the downfall of his duty and sanity. Her passion for helping her people and giving clones a voice in the Senate and her desire to be the best version of herself and a reliable friend struck something in him. Like all Clones, he didn't understand the need to be around the senator or what made her so special compared to the others; he didn't understand the pining or outright jealousy either. That was until Quinlan Vos, of all people, noticed and explained everything.
Since then, Fox had embraced the confusing gift of love and promised himself he would help his brothers navigate it if they were lucky enough to find it. Although he'd admit, Wolffe was by far the hardest to help. Even more so with the awkward limbo, he seemed content to stay and his conflict over who (Y/N) was. Not only a daughter of a Sith lord but also a Night Sister from the same clan as the person who began his endless hatred.
"Why are you so insistent on pushing us together?" grilled Wolffe, although he'd admit Fox appeared to be the kinder option. The force seemed to be making him the butt of all manner of jokes.
"It's the force working through me," stubbornly replied Fox, his words in such a flat tone that even Gregor chuckled upon hearing the quick-worded reply. "Either that, or it's because you're an idiot for not seeing what's in front of you," he added before leaving the small room entirely and leaving Gregor in a fit of laughter. Wolffe was so stunned that his mouth hung agape.
"Take her on a date," quietly worded Gregor between his attempts to catch his breath. Another round of laughter escaped his lips shortly thereafter, this time by Wolffe's reaction of questioning both their sanity. "Maybe it will settle both of you and help you find a way to co-exist without practically avoiding each other like the Blue Shadow Virus."
"Either that or Cody's recruiting Fives and Jesse to send them on a blind date," called Thorn as he walked past, no doubt doing his routine sweep of the base, ensuring nothing was out of place. "We've already got a grouchy love-sick Cody; I'd rather not have a growling love-sick pup hiding around the base, too," he added as he darted around the corner as quickly as possible.
"Love is the death of duty," started Wolffe, with a wise echo to these words, as if he was trying to imitate those he looked up to. "I'm not sure I'm ready to let go of my duty yet, let alone drive head first into the unknown," admitted the Commander, finally shining a bright light on what stopped him from reaching out and grabbing the precious gift that awaited him. awaited him.