Chapter Text
Kamino is… even worse than he remembers, quite honestly. If not for the verd’ike , Alpha would be more than tempted to burn the place to the ground and be done with it.
(It’s not the first time the thought has ever crossed his mind, and it’s certainly not the last.)
But at least he doesn’t have to deal with Kenobi or Skywalker anymore.
Which is a plus, all things considered. Rattatak had been rough, to put it lightly - much more so than he’d let on, partly to ward off potential concern from Kenobi and partly because he refuses to admit it to himself.
Of course, he’s traded the Jedi for a batch of cadets who are entirely too boisterous for their own good. Kenobi is still stuck with Skywalker as far as he knows, and sometimes he can’t help wondering who got the better deal.
(Then again, knowing Kenobi, he’d be all too happy to spread some osik about serenity and inner balance or something equally revolting.)
Alpha suspects it’s a product of Jango’s teaching that he’d initially headed into this assignment with high expectations for the command batch. In retrospect, he can’t for the life of him fathom where he’d acquired that notion - every single cadet under his command is the embodiment of chaos with a healthy disrespect for authority.
He’s not one to talk, but as an officer - and a recently promoted officer at that - he feels that it’s his duty to try to uphold the command structure of the GAR.
Still, he can’t help feeling a sense of grim satisfaction whenever one of the di’kute fires back a retort at the Kaminiise or one of the nat-born instructors. Normally any deviant behavior would be smothered for fear of reconditioning, but the Kaminiise know better than to cross him. He’s one of Jango’s, after all.
Fett may have been a rotten father, but Alpha has a grudging respect for the man’s ability to keep them all in line for twelve years. Wrangling these cadets is exhausting; he can only be grateful that they’ll be rotated out in a few months.
(Truthfully, he hasn’t been able to shake a sense of bone-deep fatigue since Rattatak, but that’s no one’s business but his own.)
No one could ever accuse him of going easy on his cadets, but even he knows that every soldier needs a break sometimes. Taking a second to breathe does wonders for morale.
Unfortunately, it also invites the possibility of conversation with the verd’ike. He’s never been as inclined to idle conversation like many of his brothers, but he’s pleasantly surprised when the rambunctious boys he’s slowly becoming accustomed to prove to be much more insightful than he’d previously imagined.
He indulges their curiosity some days. More often than not their interest lies with the Jedi they’ll be serving with soon enough, so he does his best to share an adequate depiction. They’re not omnipotent tactical masterminds like the clones had been raised to believe, Alpha warns, but they’re decent officers for the most part.
“You served with General Kenobi, didn’t you, sir?” one of the cadets asks.
Alpha barely suppresses the first sarcastic remark that comes to mind and instead settles for a nod and a noncommittal shrug.
“And?” one of the other boys pipes up.
“And what?”
“What did you think of him?”
Well, for one thing, he’s a kriffing Jedi playing at being a politician while having at least one affair that’s strictly forbidden by his creed…
“He’s a good officer,” Alpha says at last. “Gets a bit high-minded, and we rarely ever saw eye to eye, but he listens to his men.”
He’s been sure to drill that into them over and over, because if there’s one thing he wants them to retain it’s that soldiers will follow a commander into hell if he makes an effort to connect with them.
“What really happened on Rattatak?”
The question catches him off guard. For a second he has half a mind to deflect it - it’s a long story, for one thing, and an unpleasant one at that - but these cadets will be shipping out soon. He’ll have little say in things once they deploy, but he can certainly do his best to prepare them now.
Besides, Alpha can’t fault them for wanting to explore the galaxy beyond Kamino through any outlet available. Being slated for a command slot can be isolating, and they’ve heard enough about the galaxy from older troopers to be ravingly curious about what awaits them once they step foot outside Tipoca.
“It’s really not that interesting,” he sighs in a last-ditch effort to deter them.
Sadly, they seem content to wait him out.
Shabla cadets and their shabla games.
Grumbling - they look far too smug for having secured such a minor victory - Alpha opts to give them a vague overview rather than a meticulous account of everything that had taken place after Ventress had seen fit to interfere on Jabiim.
“The campaign on Jabiim was tipping in Separatist favor…”
***
Skywalker may be a pain in the shebs , but Alpha is coming to realize that the kid had a point about naming the cadets. It hadn’t been much of a priority among the Alpha batch, but it seems to be something extraordinary for the later generations.
Most times, the kids don’t tell Alpha directly that they’ve chosen a name for themselves; rather, he learns to listen to the quiet discussions between squad mates, and makes a point of using those names rather than the designations they’d been assigned at birth.
Sometimes a cadet’s delight gets the better of him and he blurts it out during an exercise. Alpha rarely reacts in the moment, but he makes sure to give an acknowledgement when they’re off-duty.
After a while, their names spring to mind before their numbers. Cody, Bacara, Gree… he still can’t determine what exactly the change signals, but he can see it in their eyes. It’s a source of pride, and who is he to deny them?
Besides, he thinks wryly, it’s better than an unruly Padawan deciding to bestow a nickname upon them in the middle of a war zone.
***
The cadets seem to be under the impression that stories from the battlefield will become a regular fixture in their routine. Alpha doesn’t let that notion stand very long, but he occasionally allows their questions after a successful exercise or a particularly impressive sparring match.
They’ve gotten even bolder since he first took command; apparently, no question is off limits.
“You’ve got an awful lot of scars, sir,” one of the boys observes. From the tone, Alpha guesses it’s Bly.
“Very astute, cadet,” Alpha huffs. “I’m glad my training isn’t wasted on you.”
“Are they all from Rattatak?”
“For one thing, I honestly don’t remember how I got every single scar, and for another, I’m not here to tell you stories,” Alpha says firmly like he hasn’t spent the past twenty minutes addressing their various questions about his experience with Jedi command.
“It’s General Kenobi, isn’t it,” Cody pipes up sagely, and in that moment Alpha realizes he’s taught them a little too well.
“He had something to do with most of them, yes,” Alpha admits.
“Some officer,” Neyo mutters with his usual cynicism.
Alpha cuffs him. “Put a lid on it, cadet. I didn’t say they were his fault - it’s just that he was usually involved in one way or another. Kenobi likes to poke his nose in where it isn’t necessarily wanted.”
Most of them look disbelieving. Alpha shrugs. They’ll figure it out one way or another.
***
Alpha jerks awake sometime around 0300 to the incessant beeping of his comlink. Grumbling to himself, he activates it and rumbles a greeting.
“Hope I didn’t wake you up, sir.”
“You’re lucky I’m not in theater, or I would smoke your shebs for this one, Cody,” Alpha growls, because even though it’s been a while since the first batch rotated out he vividly remembers every cadet’s distinct inflection and tone.
“We’ve heard that one before,” Cody says teasingly.
Alpha ignores the jibe. “Spit it out, di’kut .”
Cody hesitates, then bursts out, “How did you do it?”
“Do what?” Alpha asks, awake enough to be puzzled.
“Deal with Kenobi,” Cody whispers. Alpha can’t help being amused by the desperation in his voice. “He’s a disaster on legs, sir.”
“That’s nothing I didn’t know already, al’verde ,” Alpha informs him.
“But sir…”
“You’re the commander. He’s your problem now,” Alpha adds, thoroughly enjoying himself.
“Alpha…”
“Give the general my regards, Commander.”
“Wait - ”
“Sorry, al’verde . Duty calls.”
If Alpha is smirking when he sets aside his comlink and shuts his eyes in the hopes of getting a few more hours of sleep, no one is the wiser.