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It was a lesson all clones learned from the moment they were decanted: defection gets you killed.
Cody was one of the lucky ones; at least that’s what everyone told him. He was praised by his instructors, clung to the reg manuals and never strayed from being the perfect soldier the kaminii wanted him to be. He would train into the early hours of the morning and still be up before dawn to complete the tasks expected of him. Jango Fett loved him, unashamedly and publicly. He gave him his name, started the trend of the vode being called something other than a factory serial number. Cody fought and he trained and he studied to live up to the name that was bestowed on to him.
Cody was one of the lucky ones. Destined for nothing but praise and glory. The perfect soldier.
The muted yellow mark on his forearm was blatant proof he was anything but.
It was small to start with, the length of a credit chip at most. Three lines that trisected his lower forearm just below his wrist. He had thought it vaguely resembled the rays of light that split through the clouds after a storm, those first few glimpses of sunlight after days of thunder and rain.
Some may take it as a good omen, a symbol of hope in times of darkness. If he was an idealist maybe he could. But his vode had been recycled over less, and he wasn’t about to go marching on without even seeing a battle. He refused to be a disappointment.
The initial panic he felt upon first discovering the mark he dubbed 'sunburst' never really faded. It wasn’t like he could seek help or advice. Going to the infirmary would surely result in consistent tests, probed by the kaminii who would simply label him a deviant clone and move on.
Cody was on his own.
The thing about children who grow up believing they have to be perfect; the second they stray from that path their entire worldview collapses. They start to question - questions get you killed - everything they have ever been told, strip themselves down to their very core trying to figure out why they aren’t the shiny gold star person everyone wanted them to be.
So Cody did just that. He picked apart everything he has ever done, ever thought, ever said, and asked the question: why ? Why had this happened to him? If anyone found this mark he would be taken away, rejected by the Kaminii, shunned by Fett, separated from his brothers.
When he could find no answers for the philosophical, Cody turned to solve the more attainable, intellectual question of: what? His midnight training sessions turned into clandestine research sessions. Which would have been a lot more fruitful if the Kamanii allowed them unrestricted holonet access. The network was locked down so tight you could only access designated apps for training or study packs.
Cody learnt a lot about himself those first few weeks, the lengths he was willing to go to keep his secret and still get the answers he so desperately desired. He wasn’t proud of what he did, although he reckoned Ponds would be delighted to know he was actually paying attention to his lectures on slicing. It took him several days to even come close to breaking through the encryptions, then the facility was promptly put on lockdown due to certain security risks.
It was the first time Cody had ever willingly lied to his brothers.
“I can’t believe they’ve locked us in our rooms!” Bly sighed, dramatically draped off his bunk so both his legs and head hung off either side.
“There’s been an attempt to hack into the security systems, of course they’ve locked us away.” Cody responded diplomatically, trying to remain calm as he tapped away on the very same pad that caused the lockdown. How was he supposed to know trying to switch off the, in simplest possible terms, parental controls would broadcast across every single console and datapad in the facility and initiate a city wide shutdown? The kaminii must really not want them accessing the holonet, which was worrying in and of itself but hey Cody was already up to his neck in questions and didn’t want to add one more to the list.
“Yes but who did it? I heard one of the Alphas say it was a cadet.”
Cody prided himself on his ability to remain calm in bad situations, but he watched as his fingers faltered over the screen. Felt the breath hitch in his chest.
“What dik’uit is that stupid?” Wolffe snorted, kicking Cody’s ankle absently. “Hacking into the kaminii control unit is like, a death sentence surely.”
“Maybe they had their reasons.” Cody muttered under his breath, but clearly it was just loud enough for his batchmates to hear as their heads swivelled to him. Feeling their eyes on him, he tried hard to maintain his unbothered attitude, shrugging as he continued. “I mean it's not exactly a secret. The Kamanii restrict every source of information we can access, maybe someone just got curious. Wanted answers they couldn't find here."
Wolffe narrowed his eyes, kicking Cody's shin on purpose this time. "That's even more reason for them not to do it. Questioning orders gets you killed, Cody, you know this."
Cody huffed and rolled his eyes. "Of course I do, idiot. It’s not like I hacked the damn servers is it? I’m just saying I could understand why.”
They weren’t convinced, Cody could tell. But not one of them remarked on his obvious lie and Cody felt all the worse for it.
He stopped searching for answers after that.
There are many things the clones learn as they grow through training. One of the most important, and unofficial, lesson a cadet could learn is that Rex was Cody's.
The story of how the two met had been passed around and changed on multiple occasions, dramatised for entertainment value, but the truth was not so glamorous. In reality a training incident brought Rex to Cody.
It should have never happened. Two batches were placed in a typical training sim, only their blasters had been switched from the ones fixed on the lowest level of stun you can make to those that fire real, armour piercing rounds. It should have never happened. Live ammunition given to a bunch of unsuspecting children led to an accidental slaughter of vode. All but one were killed. Speculation of how it did happen spread like wildfire throughout the facility. It should have never happened , but it did, and the lone survivor had fled before the kaminii could catch him.
Cody had found him later that night, huddled in his locker in the changing rooms and white as a sheet. He knew. Of course he knew. Everyone on base was talking about the incident and the cadet who had disappeared. Cody had crouched down a safe distance away, trying to make himself look as non threatening as possible and gave him a shaky smile.
“How’d you get in there, vod’ika?”
The cadet sniffed, rubbing his nose against the sleeve of his blacks. Prime he was still in his blacks, the fabric melted at his hip where a bolt must have clipped him. There were other patches, dark and damp, and Cody didn’t want to know whose blood had seeped through to his skin.
“S’open.” He mumbled, curling himself tighter, pushing himself further into the darkness. The changing room had harsh white lights. Cody hated them, so he only ever showered with the aid of the moonlight. He wanted to turn them on now, only if it allowed him to get a proper look at the kid. He could be hurt, he could be bleeding out, but Cody could barely make out his face.
“Have you been hiding here this whole time?” Cody asked, edging forward. He could easily reach in and pull him out from this distance, but that would certainly scare him more. No Cody would take him time, coax him out when it suited him.
“What’s your name brother?” Cody asked when it was clear the boy was not going to answer.
“Rex. My batch call me Rex.” He whispered, and promptly dissolved into tears.
Now Cody was never all that good at comfort, he always felt stilted and awkward when faced with one of his crying batchmates. But maybe it was the fact that Rex had faced the unimaginable so young. Maybe it was the bleach blonde hair broadcasting to any and all kaminoans that he was defective. Maybe it was a combination of the two that drove Cody to carefully pull Rex out of the locker and sit there for close to an hour, rocking back and forth as he cried.
“You’re safe.” Cody had promised.
“I’ve got you.” Cody had promised.
“You’re gonna be okay.” Cody had promised.
With every assurance, Rex trembled a little less, cried a little softer, until Rex was calm enough he could take a deep breath without choking on his sobs. Only then did Cody attempt to breach the issue.
"Can you tell me what happened vod'ika?" Cody whispered into his hair, carefully manoeuvring them so they had their backs to the lockers.
In near excruciating detail Rex had told him about the incident, the memory so fresh in his mind he couldn’t help but cry as he recounted the horrors. Cody had held him through the pain of how he had killed two of his opponents before realising what was going on. Rex had told Cody about how he was already on his third strike, a hair's breadth away from decommission since the moment he was decanted with platinum blonde hair instead of Fett’s dark brown.
It was the first and only time Rex would ever discuss this with anyone.
"They'll recycle me for this," he cried into Cody’s shoulder. "I tried so hard to keep them happy, but they were just waiting for me to mess up. I deserve it. I killed two brothers. I didn't even know their names- "
“I’m not letting them take you. I swear it.”
He meant it. With the utmost sincerity Cody swore then and there to protect Rex with everything he had. It was strange, this pull he felt to a cadet he hadn't met until an hour, didn't know existed before that morning.
"How can you promise that?" Rex sniffed, shuffling a little closer to Cody’s side betraying just how much he wanted it to be true. "You have no idea what it’s like to live like this."
Cody closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the lockers with a dull thud. He couldn't believe he was about to do something so objectively stupid, but he couldn't go on listening to the same spiel everyone gives. Not from Rex.
He lifted the arm of his blacks enough for the muted yellow lines to peek out, so obvious against his dark skin. Rex's eyes, swollen from crying, were instantly drawn to the mark, mouth drawn in a silent oh.
“I’m defective too,” Rex traced the lines carefully, glancing up every now and then with a look that Cody could only describe as revenant. The skin around his sunburst seemed to almost burn at another's touch, and Cody filed that away for later.
"You- what is- you're like me?"
Cody couldn't help but smile at Rex's aborted, unspoken questions. He nodded all the same. "I won't let them take you, Rex'ika."
This time the assurance seemed to land and Rex nodded, resuming his place against Cody's shoulder.
Eventually Cody's batchmates came looking - apparently it was close to curfew, which meant Cody had been knelt on the changing room floor for three hours with Rex, an eternity for a cadet who's day was so full they were lucky if they could get thirty minutes free time - and Cody coaxed Rex to his feet with the promise of a somewhat comfortable bed and food. It wasn't entirely appealing, the food was the same tasteless slop they always consumed and was far from a five star meal, but the prospect of Cody being with him seemed to be enough. Rex was on his feet and sandwiched between Cody and his brothers, who were marching along as if they were walking into battle, ready to defend the cadet they haven't even been formally introduced to yet with at the drop of a hat.
They went to the mess first, praying they weren't too late for food. Luckily the cooks hadn't cleared out the dregs of the slop and Cody and Rex helped themselves to the last of the gruel. They sat down first, so close their elbows touched as they ate, with Cody's batch positioned around them. Eyes constantly glazed the area above Cody's head, skirting around for any signs of threat, which Cody thought may be a little overkill but it seemed to help Rex relax and actually try to eat so he wasn't about to tell them to stop.
Cody hadn’t eaten but his appetite had all but vanished by the time Ponds shoved a bowl in front of him. He kept his eyes on Rex, ignoring the gruel and the – attempts at conversation.
Then Wolffe’s head jerked upwards and his eyes narrowed at a spot just beyond Rex’s head.
"CT-5675."
Rex froze, spoon halfway to his mouth, and went terrifyingly pale.
The few vode that were still milling around the cafeteria went silent, listening intently. Cody whipped around, his arm tightening around Rex’s shoulder. The kamanii, Cody didn’t know who, stood in the doorway with two of the external trainers, both of whom were armed. Cody glared at them so fiercely one of the trainers actually gripped their gun tighter.
“You need to report to the Prime Minister’s office immediately.”
“What he needs is some food, medical treatment for the blaster burn and rest.” Cody snapped before Rex could even think of obliging. The younger clone twitched, ready to make a run for it, but Cody’s arm held him close.
The Kaminoan blinked at him, no additional emotion in their expression although Cody got the impression they were annoyed. Good.
“CC-22~”
“Cody.” he interrupted sharply. “My name is Cody; and Rex is not going anywhere with you.”
“We have some questions for him, not that it’s any of your business cadet.” One of the trainers - a rather large mandalorian called Garo - sneered. He was one of the cruel ones, a man Fett himself despises but simply does not have the authority to do anything about, and by the glint in his eye he could tell they had more than just questions in store for Rex.
Cody scowled and turned to face him fully. “I have no reason to believe a word you say, hut’uun.”
Garo tightened his grip on his blaster and stepped forward, trying to intimidate but only succeeding in infuriating Cody further. They weren’t going to touch Rex, he’d make sure of that.
“He is not going anywhere.” Cody repeated with finality.
The Kaminoan narrowed their eyes, but didn’t entertain Cody’s futile attempts to stall any further. They turned to the trainers and nodded, stepping back out into the hallway. Garo holstered their blaster and reached behind them, producing an electro-staff instead. He walked towards the table like a predator, and Rex practically slipped under the bench in fear.
Garo stalked up to the table with thinly veiled restraint, the staff held ready to strike.
Cody didn’t need to think before darting up and catching the staff before it could strike Rex. Garo bared his teeth and tried to yank it free, but Cody’s grip was strong and he held fast, Garo only succeeding in pulling Cody closer.
Wolffe had ushered Rex around the table, standing defensively in front of him with the rest of his batch - although Fox looked ready to vault the table and join Cody.
“Let go.” Garo barked, twisting the staff and Cody’s arm bent painfully but he refused to let go.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see the second trainer - a Trandoshan Cody hadn’t seen before - stalk forward with his own electro-staff. Cody grit his teeth and dropped dead weight to the floor, surprising Garo enough that Cody could yank the staff from his grip. Once it was in his palm his training kicked in and he flipped it and swung, striking hard across the Mandalorian’s face. Cody wouldn’t be surprised if he knocked out a tooth or two judging by the screams he elicited from the man, blood splatters dotting his armoured chest.
He couldn’t dwell too long on the minor victory as the second guard had closed the gap and lunged at Cody, grabbing him by the shoulder and throwing him into the table. The trays bounced with the impact, covering Cody in gruel and water. The Trandoshan trilled, displaying his yellowed, pointed teeth with sadistic pride as Cody writhed under his grip.
“Get off me,” Cody snarled, kicking it’s knee. The trainer snarled and scuttled back, but Cody didn’t let him get too far. Alpha-17’s lessons ran on loop in his mind as he went through the motions of block, attack, move, repeat, using his superior agility to outmanoeuvre him long enough to nearly break both his knees and dislocate his wrist - rendering him utterly useless in a fight.
Cody had barely gotten his breath back before Garo jumped back in, running at Cody with his staff in the air. He sunk low into a fighting stance, getting ready to dodge when the doors swung open.
“What is going on here?”
Cody jerked upright automatically - as did every other cadet in the cafeteria - as Jango Fett’s voice echoed across the hall. But Garo hadn’t paused in his attack, had hardly noticed the Template enter, and used Cody’s distraction to bring the crackling electro-staff down hard on his temple.
For a moment he felt nothing, then hot agony bloomed across face and his body seized so violently that he collapsed in a heap at Garo’s feet. Shakily, he brought his hand to his face, moderately alarmed when his fingers came back slick with blood. Although that was a secondary concern given the fact he could not see. He blinked, then blinked again, involuntary tears blurring what was left of his vision, but still only getting half a picture.
Someone was crying, drowned out by the voices of his batch, screaming and cursing out Garo whilst he stood to the side, in partial shock and partial pride.
“Cody? Cody look at me. Are you alright?” Someone begged, gripping at his arms, chest, neck, anything they could get their hands on. But Cody was too out of it, brushing away the hands and getting to his feet. He could only focus on one thing, his vision tunnelled and locked on Garo. The bastard was smiling. Smiling.
A scream so raw and primal cut through his cries and Cody lunged at the man, half blind and shaking with rage. He couldn’t recall who’s knife he’d swiped but he gripped it now, feinting low and striking at the base of the man’s neck. The blade nicked the skin enough for it to bleed, but not to fatally wound. Garo screamed like it had been a killing blow.
Someone gripped his arm, trying to pull him back, but Cody just shook them off and tried again. This time the knife was wedged between his breastplate and pauldrons, and Cody twisted until he could hear the cracking of bone and tendon before letting himself get pulled away.
“I’ll kill you for that, you little shit.” Garo roared as the Trandoshan dragged him up and out of the cafeteria, past the crowd of cadets that had formed at the entrance. Cody could barely keep his eyes open long enough to watch them leave, veering to the side then collapsing entirely to the floor. No longer numbed by adrenaline, the side of his face burned and he just wanted to lie down and rest.
Two bodies knelt next to him, turning him on his back and tilting his head to the side - such a small movement that sent a wave of agony down his spine. He wanted to push them away, to scream at them to stop touching him but his arms were leaden and unresponsive. He could only screw his eyes tighter and pray for everything to stop.
“Stay awake Kote,” Was the last thing that truly registered before Cody passed out.
The first time Cody woke up he was hooked to various machinery, handcuffed to the bed rail, and alone. He could hear the steady beep of the heart monitor and felt a flood of relief at the itchy IV needle in his arm. The discomfort meant he was still alive, still aware, and that knowledge followed him into deep sleep.
The second time he woke up was to the sensation of small fingers stroking gently along the ridges of his knuckles. The weight of the handcuffs was still there, Cody needn’t open his eyes to make sure of that, and with a brief test of his legs he found those too were restrained to the bed.
He scrunched his eyebrows in discomfort and felt the pull of a bacta patch down the left side of his face. A gasp of pain escaped involuntarily and his eyes flew open.
“Shit.” He cursed as the fluorescent medical lights temporarily blinded him.
“Cody?” A small, emotionally wrecked voice piped up, the stroking exchanged with a tight grip. Cody groaned and blinked, the room fuzzy and discoloured for a moment as he adjusted to the brightness. Much to his relief, his vision had returned and despite the discomfort of the fluorescent medical lights, it was a welcome sight.
Rex sat curled on an uncomfortable plastic chair that looked like it had been dragged in from the waiting room, placed strategically between the bed and the door, like a human barrier defending Cody from the kamanii. He looked tired, rosy cheeks and glassy eyes from crying, but otherwise okay.
A weight he didn’t know was there lifted from his chest; they hadn’t taken him, he was safe, he was okay.
“What happened?”
“You passed out. The doctors say you won’t lose your eye, but it was a close thing.”
Right, his eye. He could feel the bacta patches slapped across the vine-like wound, a light tingling where the medication was slowly stitching his skin back together.
“You attacked two bajurade, di’kut. Why did you do that?” Rex sniffed, neglecting to wipe away his tears in favour of clasping Cody’s hand between both of his. “They could have killed you.”
“They were going to kill you , vod’ika.” Cody croaked, his throat far too dry to be speaking but he didn’t care. Not when Rex looked so goddamn guilty. “I promised you I would let that happen.”
“You shouldn’t have done that. It was too dangerous. For both of us.”
Rex's eyes trailed down the bed to where Cody’s arm lay, leaden from the painkillers. Instinctively Cody’s hand went to his forearm anxiously searching for a sleeve. He let out an audible sigh of relief when he found the bandage wrap he’d used to cover up his mark whilst training still in place.
“I wouldn’t let them remove it.” Rex whispered. “They tried to, but I stopped them. No one saw it I swear.”
Cody had never been more grateful in his life. “Thank you vod’ika.”
“I owed you after the stunt you pulled back there.”
“What exactly happened? The last thing I remember is Garo catching my face.”
“You stabbed him, Kote.”
Cody blanched, eyes locked onto Rex’s as a shadow detached itself from the wall adjacent to the bed. Cody hadn’t clocked him before, and he couldn’t help but look at Rex slightly betrayed that he hadn’t given him any forewarning whatsoever.
Jango Fett stood at the end of his bed, arms crossed against his chest and chin tilted down, frowning. “Leave us Rex.”
“But-” Rex protested, but Jango cut his gaze to the cadet and he shrunk back into the chair.
“Please.”
Rex was silent as he stood up, clearly annoyed with the order but not defiant enough to disobey, and gave Cody a long, pointed look. Cody did his best to smile up at him, although his muscles twitched harshly at the movement, so it likely came across as more of a grimace. Rex left them alone, closing the door with a quiet click and Cody was alone with Fett.
Neither spoke for a good two minutes, staring the other down as if testing who would break first. Cody would say his attempt at intimidation was successful if not for the rapidly increasing rhythm of his heart translated by the monitor. Eventually Jango sighed, walked round the bed and took up Rex’s abandoned chair.
“I expected this kind of behaviour from your batchmates, not you Kote.” Cody lowered his gaze, an apology on the tip of his tongue, but Jango surprised him by carefully stroking his hair back, cradling the opposing cheek to his injury. “That being said, I have never been prouder of you, ner’eyayad.”
Jango carefully tapped his forehead in a keldabe, only for Cody to pull away abruptly. He shimmied up the bed, far enough away that there was an arms length between Jango and himself. The former looked hurt but reluctantly accepting, and did not attempt to reach out again.
“I don’t deserve that.” He whispered.
“You won my favour a long time ago, Kote. I will always be proud of you for sticking up for your brothers. You’ve proven you will make a fine Commander someday if this is how you defend them.” Jango said fondly, then his voice turned firm. “Though you understand I will have to enforce a suspension, due to the severity of your actions. Outside of given training hours you will not be allowed in the salles, nor will you be allowed to move through the compound unsupervised for a fortnight.”
“I won't be decommissioned?” There was a clear note of hope in his voice, and Jango shook his head. “But I’m-” Cody trailed off, glancing at his arm. Fett knew. If he wasn’t scheduled for decommission he certainly was now.
“I have never agreed with that practice. I’m sure as hell not letting them kill you for this. There is nothing defective about you or Rex. Besides,” Jango patted the mark through his bandage. “No one knows, and it will stay that way until you deem it safe enough to disclose.”
Cody gaped at him for a second then, forgetting his injuries, threw his arms around Fett. “Thank you.” He whispered, choked up with emotion. Jango simply held him tighter in response.
Normally such blatant displays of emotion would annoy Cody, but he'd had a long and trying day going from one crisis to the next and he was tired. He didn't try to push away when he felt the wetness on his cheeks, nor did he flinch when Jango ran his fingers through his hair, massaging the base of his neck until his muses grew limp and his head lolled against his shoulder. Only when he felt himself drifting did he allow Jango to manoeuvre him back onto the bed, tucking him in tightly so that he didn't shift in the night and worsen the injuries.
"Get some rest, Kote. You've earned it. If you need anything send one of your brothers to me, and I'll make sure you get it."
Cody hummed something nonsensical in response and he could hear Jango's hushed laughter. The offer sat in his mind for a moment, then an idea weaved itself to life.
“I want Rex to train with me.”
Jango chuckled and nodded his head. “Then he will. Rest now Cody, I’ll keep an eye on your brothers.”
And with that promise in mind, Cody slipped into sleep more comfortable than he’d had in a while.
Cody developed a reputation after what his brothers were now calling the incident . He quickly established himself as a fearless soldier, a quick-on-his-feet, loyal to a fault commander and a fierce protector of those he cared about. None of the trainers dared to mess with him after his suspension period was over, nor did the Kaminii dare to approach Rex with tests and probes again. He was feared, and Cody wouldn’t have it any other way. Even Alpha-17 gave him somewhat of a wide berth in the first few days Cody returned to training, which Cody would brag about till the day he marched on.
After a week of vigorous bacta treatment the electric burns receded and the raw skin surrounding the scar healed completely. The doctors apologised that they could not do the same to his temple, a scar that will stay with him for the rest of his life. Cody didn’t mind much; in Wolffe’s words it added to the visage he carved for himself. The fact he could now blink without pulling at scar tissue was enough for him.
Once he was cleared from medical and spent the fortnight of suspension Jango imposed in a state of constant boredom (much to the amusement of his brothers, who teased him relentlessly whenever he entered the cafeteria under supervision of, for all intents and purpose, a nanny) was lifted, Cody launched himself back into his early morning training. Only this time he had a shadow marking his moves, copying his technique.
After the umpteenth time of Rex falling flat on his face, Cody finally extended the offer to teach him alongside a helping hand up. “Can’t have you tripping like that on the field. Or worse in front of Alpha-17.”
Rex rolled his eyes and clasped Cody’s hand, letting him drag him up to his feet whilst muttering.
“I’m not that bad, Codes. Besides I bet I could- Alpha-17?” The kid stopped short, let go of Cody and promptly fell straight back on his ass.
Cody stifled a laugh with a cough and turned on his heel so Rex wouldn’t see his smile. He headed over to the bench that ran along the far wall and snatched up his water bottle, taking deliberately long swigs whilst Rex lay spluttering on the floor.
Eventually he got up and ran to Cody, turning him around forcefully by the shoulders and shaking him slightly. “What did you do? Why would I be training in front of your trainer? I’m not a CC.”
“Well not officially, not yet. Fett said the paperwork is still going through so you won’t be in our sessions for at least a week, maybe more.”
“I can’t believe you-” Rex exclaimed, and Cody could only laugh which of course just made Rex even more angry. “Don’t you dare laugh, shabuir! I can’t be a commander. I’m barely keeping up with the ARC training.”
“Well technically you’d be a captain.” Cody added helpfully around another burst of laughter. His brother was turning an interesting shade of white that almost matched Alpha’s pristine armour.
“I don’t care about the technicalities. You’ve thrown me to the dogs, Codes. I’m dead. I’m gone. I won’t survive the first day let alone a god damn battle.”
“Okay, Rex, sit down and shut up.” Cody ordered a little firmer than strictly necessary but he could tell Rex was getting too worked up. Rex plopped onto the bench with all the dramatics of a holodrama star. “I recommended you to Fett because I know you have potential. He sees it too otherwise he wouldn’t have put in the transfer. Besides, it's not like you’d be alone: you’ll have me, and Wolffe, and Bly, and Ponds, and Fox.”
“I don’t know the first thing about being a leader.”
“That’s why I’m training with you one on one. You think I do this with just anyone?”
“So you think I need the extra help,” He whined and Cody rolled his eyes.
“I just said I saw potential. Don’t get all bitchy with me now because you’re in a mood. No, I'm training you so you’re a step ahead of the next batch of CCs.”
Rex scrunched his face. “That’s cheating.”
“No. It’s tactical.”
His brother looked at him for a long time, just staring, then eventually nodded. “Okay. Okay then Commander. Teach me.” He jumped back to his feet with his arms spread wide in challenge, and Cody could only smile.
It took a month for the request to be approved, and within that time Cody pushed him hard until he was quicker, smarter and more powerful than some of his friends. Rex could beat both Bly and Ponds in hand to hand - Fox had flat out refused to fight him, and Wolffe refused to leave his bed beyond curfew - and almost had Cody’s tells and fighting style down to beat him too. Of course Cody didn’t show him all the tricks, he had to save some things for actual training, but he taught him enough that by the time the first session rolled around it was clear Rex was by far the best addition to the command class.
The younger CC’s, those who were the same age as Rex, were clearly jealous that he had progressed so much, but a quick look from Cody had them scuttling away.
Weeks passed, hours upon hours of training went by in a blur, and Rex progressed quickly, surpassing most of the command unit until Alpha-17 finally pitched Cody and Rex against each other. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it; it had been a while since he had a decent sparring partner, one that could keep up with his unpredictability. More so than anything though Rex was almost certain that the fight would end in a draw and Cody was ready to dent that overgrown ego in a way only an older brother could achieve.
They circled each other on the mat, the class lining the walls and watching eagerly. Cody wouldn’t be the one to make the first move, everyone knew that, but it looked like Rex was more than willing to wait. He was patient, and smart enough to have Cody’s style down to a science.
“Ready when you are vod’ika.” Cody said with false cheer, trying to needle his way under the boy’s skin.
“Bring it Codes.” Rex retorted, his overconfidence and cockiness making the onlookers snicker.
Cody balled his fists, sent a mental apology to his little brother, and ran forward. Rex pulled back ready to block what seemed to be a punch to the face, but at the last second Cody dropped and slid through his legs, grabbing his ankle and spinning fast enough to trip Rex up. He fell face first to the floor, catching himself just in time to avoid a trip to medical. Cody backed off long enough for Rex to jump back to his feet and mutter some explanative under his breath that in another setting would impress Cody, before rushing him again.
“Kick his ass Rex!” Wolffe cheered, prompting a whole wave of shouts and encouragement from the side-lines.
Rex grinned, a feral thing, and darted to the left, gripping Cody’s wrist in an almost exact copy of the move Cody had taught him. Luckily he had broadcasted so obviously that Cody had ample time to redirect the attack back to Rex, and twisted his arm so that he could clamp onto Rex’s forearm. With more strength than was strictly necessary, he yanked Rex towards him, kicking out his legs so that he fell flat on his back.
“Really Codes.” Rex hissed when the crowd laughed.
Cody crouched over Rex, smug. “Tip for next time, don’t use the moves I taught you. And don’t broadcast, I could see that coming a mile away-“
The lecture would have been a useful one if not for the legs suddenly wrapped around his middle and the arms flipping him over. Rex sat full force on his stomach, pinning Cody’s arms to his side, his face practically splitting ear to ear with a shit eating smile.
“What was that, Cody?” He simpered, and that was definitely Wolffe was howling with laughter in the corner.
“Mir’sheb.” Cody mumbled, letting his body relax so Rex would get the hell off his stomach.
Only when Alpha-17 called the match did Rex even think about moving.
Cody’s batch continued to tease him about it well into the next day.
Truthfully, Cody couldn’t be more proud of his little brother.
The day eventually came when they shipped out. A conflict on Geonosis, the small green General had told them. No more information was provided to the commanders, and no one asked. They all knew that if a general withheld information then it was above their clearance. So they worked with what they could, gathered a volunteer force of 20,000 men and boarded four venator class cruisers bound for Geonosis.
Cody was ship bound for the entire battle, calling the shots for half of the army whilst Alpha-17 dealt with the others. At his command he had Wolffe, Fox and Rex, each leading a battalion, and Cody tracked their every move on the field. He hated every minute of it, listening to his brothers and their General get massacred by the droid forces. Alpha-17 stood at his side quietly seething for much the same reason. The only thing keeping them going was that none of their Commanders went down - his batch mates were still alive.
About an hour into the conflict, Cody lost sight of Rex’s marker, only to find him ten minutes later in the middle of the desert with a small squad escorting the captured Senator - Senator Padme Amidala of Naboo if Cody remembered correctly - to safety, which also took him far away from the fighting. A small weight lifted off his chest when he saw them retreating further to an evac transport, and he focused more fully on the battle.
It was a massacre from the get go. The Trade Federation clearly had the upper hand, and had already slaughtered most of the Jedi before the clones had even arrived. A handful of brightly coloured blades still dotted the field though, and Cody ordered as many brothers as possible to protect them with their lives. These were their generals - or so the little green Jedi had told them - and Cody would be damned if he lost any more.
Only when the battle was over thirty hours later, and they were safely heading back to Kamino, did Cody dare look at the list of casualties.
183 out of 212 Jedi died. Approximately five thousands of his brothers joined them, although that death toll couldn’t even be confirmed as so many bodies had not been recovered. All Cody could think about as he watched his brothers march into the hangar was that he failed them. He was supposed to protect these men, but instead he was holed away in the safety of the ship as his brothers were slaughtered.
He couldn’t even protect the Jedi, the very people Cody was born to serve and die for.
Then he was called into a debriefing and Cody packed all these feelings in a box and buried it deep enough that no jetti magic could sense them. He was the picture of professionalism, stood silent with Alpha on one side and Rex on the other, and several other high ranking officers spread about the room. Some of them whispered in hushed tones about the massacre, some were still sniffling at the losses, but Cody simply stood and waited.
The Generals did not leave them to stew long. The doors whisked open and eight Jedi entered, led by High General Yoda.
“We thank you for your patience, Commanders.” General Yoda said with a slight bow. Alpha-17 answered with a nod of his own, it had long been established that Alpha would handle the discussions unless the others were explicitly asked.
“I believe apologies are in order for the lack of information we were able to supply to you and your men. Time was limited, and we had very little information ourselves.” A dark-skinned human said, cutting a glance at a bronze haired Jedi standing to his left. The man looked sheepishly to the floor, before clearing his throat and looking up.
Straight at Cody.
“My condolences. We suffered too many losses today, and I am deeply sorry.”
The General’s gaze pierced his own, and his skin pricked with goosebumps at the attention. Cody wishes he was wearing his helmet just so he didn’t have to maintain eye contact with the man. Was he expected to answer? What the kriff was he supposed to say that wouldn’t highlight just how broken he feels right now?
Alpha cleared his throat, “Thank you, sir. But we live to serve the Republic, it is our duty and our honour to lay down our lives for you.”
Cody had never been more grateful for Alpha in his life.
The bronze-haired General grimaced slightly at the words but nodded all the same. “Of course.”
“We wish to speak to you all about your official assignments.” The dark-skinned Jedi continued. “Each of you will be assigned a Jedi and a battalion to command. Those with a High Council member will also command a system army, and the sectors within them. From there we will discuss a course of action to deal with the members of the Federation still left on Geonosis.”
So the meeting progressed and the assignments were divided between them. Ponds was assigned the dark-skinned Jedi, General Windu; Wolffe and General Koon; Gree and General Unduli; Monkk and General Fisto; Alpha and General Tii; Rex and General Skywalker, who was not present as he was sent back to Naboo with the Senator to ensure her safety; Fox with the Coruscant Guard and consequently the Chancellor himself; Bly and General Secura who was also not present.
Which left Cody, now Marshal Commander of the Third Systems army, assigned to the bronze haired Jedi who’s eyes hadn’t left him since the briefings were separated out. General Obi Wan Kenobi.
As the other Commanders split off to formally greet their Generals, Cody watched as his General approached him with a kind smile and even kinder eyes.
“Hello Commander. I am looking forward to our time together, although I wish the circumstances were a little less dire.” Cody felt inclined to agree, nodding amicably. Kenobi studied him, eyes flicking across his face for a moment, something remarkably soft passing his features. “I’m sorry but I couldn’t help but notice your file does not state your name, only your designation. Do you have a chosen name, or do you wish to be called by your designation?”
Cody was well aware of the eyes of his vode that suddenly snapped to him. There are two ways this could go: this is a trap and Kenobi is testing whether or not Cody follows orders, or Kenobi is completely genuine and actually accepts that the clones are more than just the numbers assigned to them at birth. The Kaminoans were never aware of their chosen names, many brothers refused to even tell the vode of them in case they were discovered. The CCs in Cody’s group were a little more flippant with their use, not as wary of retaliation when they had Jango Fett’s favour. But the threat of punishment was still very real.
Was this a trap? Would Kenobi reprimand him for answering? Should he play it safe and lie?
But Kenobi seemed so kind and Cody couldn’t help but trust him completely.
“Cody,” He said in a rush, opting for the safer version of his name - he was not about to divulge the vode’s secret, Mando’a was their way of achieving some sort of control over their lives. “My name is Cody, Sir.”
If possible, Kenobi’s smile grew brighter. “Thank you Cody. I have a feeling we are going to get along just fine.”
One look at Rex’s smug face had Cody hoping so as well.
Jango Fett was killed on Geonosis. He was never what most would call paternal, but he was the closest thing the clones had for a father. Cody mourned him, added his name to the remembrances, and tried not to dwell on the fact the number of people who knew his secret had just halved.
Commander Cody was good at his job. He was efficient in every sense of the word. Reports and checklists were a part of his everyday routine, they were insightful and they worked. It was no surprise then that Cody had a private text file on his datapad, encrypted tighter than the consoles on Kamino, and on that file was a list.
What I know about the Sunburst:
- It appeared when I was three years old, three days after my decanting day
- It’s reactive to other people’s touch (only tested by Rex, still a working hypothesis)
- The middle line has grown since the war started - now touches my wrist - and the outer lines nearly wrap around my forearm
- (everything is in threes, could be something, could be coincidence)
- No other clone has reported a similar mark. (Unique? Defection? Something else?)
- No medical journals outline anything remotely similar to this. Closest example I can find is a birthmark, but I was not born with it
Cody sat at his desk with his stylus in hand, mulling over his latest discovery and what it means for him.
- It glows?
The discovery had been purely accidental. It was six months into the war, and the final battle of Geonosis had been won. There was little need to remain on the planet now that the factories had been disabled, so Cody and General Kenobi were planning for a clean up crew to take over and secure the planet whilst the rest of the battalions return to Coruscant for further deployment. But they had hours until the transports arrived to take them back to the venators, so Cody continued as he had been for months, taking shifts with his officers and patrolling the camp in order to take his mind off the horrific losses of the campaign.
Cody had been on first watch during their latest campaign and was making his round of the camp. He had stopped outside the command tent, where his General was still mulling over the battle and no doubt drafting up his reports for tomorrow's debrief, with every intention to march in there and drag Kenobi to the barracks for some goddamn rest, when his arm started to burn. He was well accustomed with the straps on his vambrace, and had it off within a minute. There were venomous insects on this planet, one could have easily found its way in between the cracks in his armour.
The faint golden glow piercing through his blacks made it clear this was in no way a bug bite.
Hastily he shoved up his sleeve, gawking at the faint orange light that ran around the edges of the sunburst like a neon sign. Cody traced it, and immediately the light faded into the mark as if it was never there. It was a full five minutes after that Cody managed to move on with his patrol, the shock and pure confusion bolting his feet to the floor as his mind struggled to process what he’d just seen.
He'd never noticed this before because, of course, he had never been stripped off his armour where others could see. Even some of the medics have never seen the skin beneath his blacks. Helix is the only one cleared to treat him, and is sworn to secrecy under pain of reassignment and possible death if rumour of his sunburst spread. Helix is smart enough to know not to test his word.
So in short Cody had never seen the mark react like this before. Certainly never this strong - although the memory of Rex as a cadet brushing his fingers over the lines, and the tingling that spread at his touch crossed his mind. He jotted that down in parenthesis beside the bullet point. Maybe that had something to do with it? Or this was all some huge coincidence and it meant nothing more than Cody had some inexplicable defect.
No matter how many times he tried to convince himself he didn’t want answers, that he was fine not knowing what this mark was, the universe seemed to prove him wrong.
He’d meant to research it when they returned to the ship, but was immediately swept up in meeting after meeting, and the need for some kriffing rest so overwhelming that when he finally had some downtime it completely slipped his mind.
The list wasn’t touched again for months.
Nine months into the war and it was clear Cody’s reputation back on Kamino had followed him to the front.
Now that his brothers (predominantly his batchmates and closest friends from his cadet days) had control of the ranks, Cody found that he would receive shipments of clones destined for Kamino for reconditioning in droves. The vode knew Cody as a stubborn di’kut with a soft spot for ‘defectives’, and he was starting to wear that title with pride. In fact, he had become quite efficient in falsifying reports and creating new designations for the brothers he would take in.
Either his General didn’t know, or he was equally as fond of discretion as the Commander because not once did he comment on the occasional influx of troopers.
Cody watched as Wooley sat down one of the shiniest newcomers, barely off Kamino before he was turned away by his General and yet to choose his name. They were flicking through design booklets together, Wooley gently explaining why a face tattoo may not be the best choice for his first time.
It was a ritual of sorts now to clear out one of the training rooms and take a day to welcome the troopers, and this often came hand in hand with Wooley and Medic opening up their makeshift tattoo parlour. The shinies always got first dibs, of course, and would decorate both skin and armour in unique patterns that somehow completely capture their entire personality. Some even match their so-called deformities in gold and black ink. Cody couldn’t imagine being so bold, the respect he had for those troopers was sky high.
“Commander, do you have a tattoo?” Wooley’s trooper asked, wincing slightly as the needle outlined a simple template of the Open Circle Armada, General Skywalker and Obi Wan’s joint fleet. Cody thought it was a sensible first choice, likely of Wooley’s suggestion.
“I don’t.” He answered simply and many of the seasoned soldiers stopped to listen. They’d always been rather invasive when it came to Cody and his aversion for tattoos. Cody had never had the energy to explain it.
“Why not?”
He sighed, folding his hands behind his back in parade rest, subconsciously hiding his forearm. “Never appealed to me.”
“Not once?” The shiny asked, head tilted like a tooka.
Cody’s silence must have been condemning because Woolley suddenly cleared his throat and promptly grabbed the young trooper's attention. “Sit still vod’ika or you’ll end up with a botched job and I can’t have that on my conscience.”
The shiny grumbled something and sat back, Woolley moving to block his view of Cody. The rest of the room slowly went back to their activities and Cody fought the compulsion to leave then and there.
It would be too easy to pass off his mark as a tattoo. Most brothers would believe him, he could make up some bullshit excuse for his secrecy and everyone would laugh about it and eventually forget. Cody’s a private person by nature so it’s not like it’s unusual for him to keep things to himself. But if any of them caught it kriffing glowing then he’ll be neck deep in questions he’d rather not answer (not that he knew the answers mind you, he’s still just as clueless as when he was three years old).
Cody eyed a pot of golden paint that Feedback had left on a workbench when he was called up for his tattoo, and a terribly brilliant idea came to mind.
He was so tired of pretending this part of him didn’t exist. He’d spent the better part of his life parading around as someone who just wasn’t him, and Cody didn’t know how much longer he would last before he snapped.
The Commander took a leaf out of the shines’ book and picked up a paintbrush.
People noticed, immediately, the additions to Cody’s armour. Personally, he didn’t think a few stripes of yellow warranted such a reaction, but clearly his brothers begged to differ.
The call came after their first campaign, which just so happened to end with his face plastered over the holonet after he accidentally stopped a separatist assassination attempt on the Senator of Aridus, and consequently the entire GAR became privy to the Marshal Commander Cody, stickler for rules and regulations, with a bright yellow sun painted on his breastplate.
“What’s with the change of heart, Codes?”
“Hello Rex’ika. I’m fine, yeah, how are you?” Cody snipped, folding his arms and glaring at the flickering hologram of his brother. He would not relent to Rex’s questioning. If he could avoid Ghost Company’s incessant pestering, then he sure as hell could deflect his little brothers.
“Don’t do that. Why now? Did you tell someone?”
“Look I just fancied a change. I felt like a kriffing shiny in white armour.” Which was somewhat true, he needed a distinguishable mark to set him aside from his men. The stripe on his helmet simply wasn’t cutting it anymore.
“Banthashit. Stop deflecting.” Rex’s glare was scathing and he could feel the heat of it from systems away.
Cody deflated, letting his arms drop to his side. “I’m tired, okay. I’m lying to my brothers, constantly. But if I tell the wrong person and someone finds out then I’m dead. I shouldn’t keep anything from them, so at least now I'm being somewhat truthful.”
“Kote,” Rex whispered, leaning forward. Cody wished he was here if only to hug him.
“I’m so damn tired Rex.”
“I know you are. Maybe if you told someone it would help? Helix or one of the medics, you know how they are with patient confidentiality.”
It was true. Helix was probably one of the most trusted vod on the Negotiator for that exact reason. You could go to him with anything and know it would be safely guarded. Helix could be trusted with this, maybe even help him identify whatever it was.
Still.
“You know I can’t.”
“Fine,” Rex conceded with a nod. “Then at least reach out more often. It’s been too long since we’ve talked like this.”
Cody smiled. It really has been too long, but they were at war and these were the sacrifices they must make. Nonetheless, he promised his little brother he would try, because at the end of the day he would do anything for Rex. Anything at all.
It was only a week later his brothers found something else to direct their attention to.
General Kenobi had a tattoo.
One of the shiny medics had seen the tail end of a curled script on his chest, over his heart, whilst tending to a blaster wound on the man’s shoulder. It had been so brief that the medic couldn’t make out what it was, and the mystery seemed to cause quite a stir among the troops.
Cody would be lying if he said he wasn’t thinking much the same thing. But he was never as obvious with his musings as his men (Waxer had started a betting pool, and would also be scrubbing the toilets for the next three rotations if Kenobi ever found out). He wondered, of course he did, over what it was if only for the surprise of the discovery. Obi Wan Kenobi was the last person Cody would expect to have a tattoo, which likely meant that whatever it was, it was highly personal and definitely not something Cody should pry about.
But oh how he wanted to.
“-should advance from the, Cody are you listening?” Kenobi squinted at Cody, and the Commander immediately straightened up.
“Sorry sir, I got…distracted.”
The General’s expression softened, and he smiled. “It’s fine Cody. Honestly it’s getting rather late, we can continue this tomorrow.”
Kenobi shut down the holotable and stood up, walking towards the small kitchenette in the corner of his room. It wasn’t much, a glorified shelf home to a kettle, a couple of mugs and a drawer overflowing with various teas from across the galaxy. He grabbed two mugs - a simple yellow one (Cody’s) and a navy blue one dotted with silver stars (Obi Wan’s) - and selected a flavour Cody had grown particularly fond of.
“Milk and four sugars?” Obi Wan asked over his shoulder, knowing full well what Cody’s answer would be.
“As always.”
“I’ll never understand how you can drink it that sweet.” Obi Wan muttered, but spooned the sugar in anyway.
“What can I say, I have a sweet tooth.”
“Is that why a crate of meilooruns found its way onto the requisition forms.” Kenobi jibed, eyebrow tilted accusingly.
Cody smiled innocently. “Right next to the crate of Earl Grey I believe.”
Obi Wan snorted a laugh, handing the steaming mug over to the Commander. “Touché Cody.”
Conversation shifted to small talk as they settled. Before the war, it was the bane of Cody’s existence. He hated coming up with somewhat intriguing topics of conversation, much preferring to listen in silence. Kenobi had picked up that particular trait early on and often led, bouncing from one thing to the next as if it were the easiest thing in the world. All Cody needed to do was keep up.
“I’m pleased the transfers are settling in well. I should really thank Wooley for his suggestion, it seems the transition period is working wonders for everyone.”
“Wooley has always had a way with the shinies.” Cody agreed. Even back on Kamino, Wooley was never seen without a crowd of young cadets around him. If anyone would make the shinies settle in, it would be him.
“Not just the shinies,” Obi Wan said with a pointed glance at Cody’s chest plate. “That’s new paint right? Why the change, Commander?”
Cody fiddled with the handle of his mug anxiously all the same. Kenobi sat there, smiling, completely at peace as he sipped his tea, as if he hadn’t just asked Cody one of the most vulnerable questions possible.
“The design is…special. To me.” He began, awkward and unsure of how much he could comfortably reveal without jumping straight into the deep end.
Kenobi tilted his head, like a tooka would when it’s particularly enamoured by something. His brow scrunched in contemplation, and kriff he was doing that thing again. He’d look at you, through you and suddenly have all the answers laid out before him.
Cody tightened his shields.
“Why now?” Was all he asked, although the confusion was still there, with an added layer of hurt now Cody had closed himself off.
“I fancied a change.” Cody tried but it came off more as a question than a statement. Kenobi frowned, offended now.
“If you don’t wish to tell me, Cody, you need only say. I won’t push you any further.”
“It’s not that-“ Cody exhaled sharply, irritated at his inability to formulate coherent kriffing sentences, and tried again. “I’ve only ever talked to Rex about this before, and that was years ago. I don’t- I don’t know how much I can say?”
Kenobi looked at him for a second, then leaned forward a fraction. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Cody.”
Cody swallowed, nodding. He knew that. Logically he knew that this convers was in no way needed. Kenobi would not fault him for ending this right now and walking out the door. But that felt wrong, and Cody was so sick and tired of lying to everyone. He could trust his general. The man had proved time and time again that he cared about the clones; he certainly has never commented on the batches of shinies that keep popping up, hell the Jedi sometimes approves the requests himself. Kenobi would never put him in danger, would never cast him away. He could trust him.
“I want to. I need to tell someone, Obi Wan.”
And that really was proof that Cody was desperate, wasn’t it. Because not once during this damned war has Cody ever used the General's name. The man seemed torn between elation - it was a regular battle trying to get Cody to ditch the honorifics - and concern. He nodded, his body open and encouraging and Cody forced himself to look him in the eye as he spoke.
“Seven years ago a mark appeared on my arm. This pattern, almost exactly the same colour, and it has only grown over time. I don’t know what it is, but I do know that if the Kamanii found out about it they’d probably scrap me on the spot.”
Cody tugged at his sleeve, for once thankful he’d forgone his armour for the evening. He watched as Obi Wan’s eyes immediately snapped to the mark, softly glowing as it did more often than not these days.
“I call it a sunburst, which is even more apt now that it glows. Don’t ask about that, because fuck knows why it does that.”
“Cody-“
“I feel like I’m pretending all the time to act perfect so no one thinks to look closer. What will they see if they do? Damaged goods.” Cody racked his hand through his hair, scraping his scalp with enough force his head hurt. “I’m just so tired of hiding. This is the only way I can be even a little bit truthful with everyone, and still I have to lie. Because if I don’t I’m dead.”
“Cody,” Obi Wan said his name like a command, and it was reflex that made him shut up. “It’s beautiful.”
Cody’s brain stuttered to a stop. “What?”
“It’s beautiful.” Obi Wan repeated, softer this time. He reached out like he wanted to touch, and Cody immediately flinched back because what the fuck?
“I- no it’s, I mean I guess so but - what?”
Cody had expected a lot of things from this confession, had run over possibilities endlessly in his mind, and none of them ever turned out like this. He’d never really considered the aesthetics of the sunburst, but looking at it now sure a lot of people may consider it beautiful. If not for the colour then certainly the glow.
“May I?” Obi Wan asked, glancing at his hand still hovering between them.
Cody could do nothing but nod dumbly and watch as his general ran his thumb down the middle line. He expected the warmth that came with touch. Rex had made a habit of testing the mark every time they saw each other. But this heat was different. It was all encompassing, blossoming directly in his chest and wrapping him in a sense of what he could only describe as rightness.
He sucked in a breath, held it and exhaled sharply as Obi Wan continued to trace the edges of light. He wanted to tell him to stop, yet he also never wanted to move from this position again. The conflict seemed to seep through his shields as Obi Wan looked up, and the bastard smiled that sweet, beguiling smile reserved for the most stubborn of senators, the one that made Cody practically melt under.
“It would seem you have a soul mark my dear.” He stated, still caressing the sunburst.
Cody’s heart skipped and for a moment he could barely breathe through anticipation. “A what?”
"Not much is really known about them. Different species have slightly different marks, but they’re almost always rich with the force. They’re not so common anymore but the temple has hundreds of entries in the Archives about such soul bonds, how they form and why, although I won’t bore you with that,” the Jedi winked and Cody almost wanted to beg for him to please, bore me with that I need to know everything. He refrained, barely, and let his general continue,
“My Master, Qui Gon, encouraged my research. Even found several Jedi with soul marks to question myself, although their knowledge was about as limited as my own.” Obi Wan’s expression grew soft, almost reminiscent as it often did when discussing his Master. “Qui Gon used to say they were a blessing from the force. Mostly to cheer me up, as I have a mark too.”
“You do?” The relief was almost a physical thing, heavy in his chest. If Obi Wan had one then they couldn’t be bad.
“I do, their name. One of the upsides to being Stewjoni I suppose.” Obi Wan’s smile turned wry and he retracted his hands. Cody shivered at the loss of warmth. “Although I’ve only recently come to the conclusion that they do not know I am their soulmate.”
“When did you find out what it was?”
“I was always aware of it, I suppose. Although it does work differently in force sensitives. It’s like there’s a string attached to my wrist. For years it was dormant, simply drifting off into empty space, then suddenly it would start to pull me forward. Like my soulmate was tugging on the other end. I can feel that and follow it.”
“That’s…” Amazing. Terrifying. Absolutely insane. All of the above. Cody’s head was spinning. “Can you always feel them?”
“Not always. If they acknowledge the mark, touch it or think about it in any way, then I can feel a faint presence. It’s been happening more and more lately.”
His words held a weight Cody couldn’t quite make sense of. Although that wasn’t unusual; like his fellow council members, General Kenobi liked to speak in cryptic riddles.
“If you have their name, why not go and find them?”
Kenobi laughed softly, eyes crinkling with mirth. “Oh Cody, I know exactly where they are. When they figure out if they want this or not, I’ll be here waiting for them.”
That made sense, Cody supposed. They could be like him, not have a clue what their mark meant or that it tied them to his general. Cody didn’t particularly enjoy the idea that there was someone fated to be with him, just another choice taken from him, but if they were anything like his General, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
“I wonder who mine is?” Cody wondered aloud, tracing the curve of the sunburst. A pleasant warmth flooded his arm, and Cody couldn’t help but smile. If Obi Wan could feel his soulmate when they touched their mark, then maybe the glow was his soulmate thinking of him. It was a pleasant thought, the idea that somewhere in the galaxy he had someone waiting for him.
A secondary glow caught his eye. It was almost exactly the same shade as his sunburst.
Obi Wan must have noticed his staring. He shifted in his seat, leaning back causing the neck of his tunic to slip ever so slightly. Clearly it was unintentional, but the glowing script of his soul mark peaked out of his clothes. A “c” written so distinctly in Cody’s handwriting.
His arm began to burn brighter at the thought, the light echoed on his general’s chest.
Cody’s hand slipped from his wrist and burning subsided, but the glow didn’t fade. It remained as bright and brilliant as ever.
“Does it- is that normal?” Obi Wan asked hesitantly, his eyes flitting between the sunburst and Cody’s bewildered expression.
“No. No it’s not.” Cody whispered, unable to look away from his general's collar. He hastily wrapped his mark back up and pulled down his sleeve, praying the light wouldn’t shine through the fabric.
“Cody-“ Obi Wan began in that gentle tone that made Cody feel like he was a fragile cadet again.
This was too much.
“Commander, General, an urgent request is being transmitted from the Resolute.”
Thank the force.
“We should get going.” Cody stuttered, standing up abruptly. “Could be important.”
Obi Wan’s expression was tight, clearly confused, but all the same he nodded and stood up. “Knowing Anakin it could be anything.”
“A soulmark! What the kriff does that even mean? And why, of all people in the galaxy, does my commanding officer have my name in my handwriting tattooed on his chest. Is this some kind of sick joke? Does the universe really hate me that much?"
"Stop with the dramatics, Codes. You sound like a cadet." Rex stated dryly, his image flickering lightly on the pocket-sized projector Cody had placed on his desk.
Cody had called Rex almost immediately after submitting his reports. The mission had been a routine rescue operation, one they had grown pretty efficient at thanks to General Skywalker’s reckless tendencies. Meaning Cody had all of six hours to distract himself before he was back on the Negotiator, across the hall from his General who could barely look at him since he ran out that evening.
He was pretty sure he had worn a dent into the floor of his study with how much he was pacing. Rex had barely managed to get a word in through Cody's ranting, and if this was how he was going to behave then Cody might just hang up.
“Shut up, I think I get a pass. I’ve only been trying to figure this mark out for the past seven years of my life.” Cody flopped onto the couch, making sure to keep in range of the projector. Sure he agreed with Rex that this was probably not the best way to handle the situation, but a flare for the dramatic seemed to be embedded into the Fett DNA, so Rex should really have expected this. “Now are you going to help me or what?”
"Could you not have had your breakdown at a decent hour? It's three in the morning Cody and we’ve only just finished clean up."
"Oh I'm sorry, is my breakdown inconvenient for you. Please send me your availability and I'll reschedule."
Rex sighed and pinched his nose. "Look there is an easy fix to this."
"And what's that?" Cody snapped, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt.
“Ask to see his mark. He clearly wants them to find him if he said he was waiting for them. What’s the harm in asking?”
“Are you kidding me!” He exclaimed, trying desperately to keep his voice quiet. “Do you have any idea how stupid that is? That is the worst idea you've ever had. Ever. And you once tried to convince an entire unit in Kamino to raid the food stores because-”
Rex cut him off with an exasperated sigh, holding up his hand for peace. “Okay okay i get it. Bad idea. But just - and hear me out here - just talk to Kenobi. It might not be your name. You could be panicking over nothing.”
“I know my handwriting, Rex. And it glowed gold when I touched my sunburst. It has to be him.”
“And this is a bad thing?”
“He’s my commanding officer!”
“So? The whole galaxy knows about Bly and Secura.”
“That’s different,” Cody could feel the headache mounting as he rubbed his temple. “Kenobi’s a Council Member, and he’d never break his oaths for me. Telling him I know would cause nothing but problems.”
“You sound like you have this all figured out, why are you bothering me?” Rex crossed his arms, unimpressed, but there was something challenging in his eyes.
“Because I don’t know what to do!” Cody exclaimed, a hair's breadth from hysterical.
Rex stared at him for a long moment, his calculating gaze raking across Cody’s face. Then something seemed to click and he leant forward.
“Yes you do,” Rex said with a sly smirk and a satisfied nod. “Hope you come to your senses soon Codes.”
“No, Rex!”
But his brother ended the transmission leaving Cody alone.
Rex had a point, a traitorous part of his brain supplied. Obi Wan never acted as if he rejected his mark, or the person attached to it. In fact, he explicitly said he was waiting for them. So what was the harm in asking for confirmation? If it’s not him then Cody can just keep going with the knowledge that there is someone out there waiting for him. If it is…
Well. That’s the problem isn’t it. If it is Cody, then he will no longer be able to ignore his feelings. He couldn’t tell you when it started, but they have only gotten stronger in recent months. The war was draining, exhausting, but Obi Wan made it all bearable. He loved him, and the very thought was terrifying. What future can he give Obi Wan if he is but a pawn for the Republic? He has no rights, no money, no life outside of the army. If he were to confess all he would get is a court martial. There is no future for them, their ranks and responsibilities simply wouldn’t allow it. If this mark was trying them together, then it was all Cody could do to ignore it. He couldn't jeopardise Obi Wan's position on the council like that. He wouldn’t.
Cody knew all this, so why did he want so badly?
He should have never told him. He should have never sought these answers. Everything was fine before all of this. Damn Rex and logic, he should have kept his mouth shut.
“Fuck!”
Cody stood up and all but ran from his room and down the corridor. Luckily, the command quarters are usually quiet this time of night, and after the battle they’ve just had Cody had no doubts that the coast would be clear the short journey from Cody’s room to Obi Wan’s. The only problem was Cody didn’t think as far as to what to do once he actually reached his destination, and stood frozen in front of the door for far too long.
“What am I doing,” he muttered to himself, taking a single step back. He could hide away in his room for a couple hours more until he needed to face his General in briefings. By that point his feelings would be tucked safely away and he could focus on what was important. The war. The republic. The safety of his brothers. These feelings were secondary when faced with duty. He had to let go.
A sharp pain gripped his forearm as the door slid open in front of him. It was an invitation and an order wrapped up in a little red bow. And Cody was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He entered the darkened room and wasn’t surprised when the door immediately closed behind him.
“Sir?” Cody whispered, unsure of what else to say.
A shadow detached itself from the sofa cushions and the lights came up ever so slightly. Obi Wan was hunched over on the sofa, pressing into his shoulder and breathing heavily. Cody’s first thought was that the idiot had neglected yet another battle wound, but they were together the entire mission and he’d suffered no injury.
“Sir are you okay?”
“I’m fine Cody. Nothing to worry about.” Obi Wan glanced up with a smile but pain burned in his eyes.
Cody stepped closer. “You’re hurt.”
“I’m-“
“If you say you’re fine I’m taking you straight to med-bay.”
“It’s not something healers can fix. It’s happened before, I’ll be fine.” Something in Obi Wan’s expression was pleading with Cody to leave the issue alone, and for a moment Cody thought he would. But he came here for a purpose. He would not run away a second time.
“Can I help?”
His General’s smile vanished completely. Nothing was said for a long while, they simply stared at each other as the weight of what was about to happen sank in. Cody’s sunburst pulsed with heat, beating to the erratic thrum of his heart. The mark was so bright it seeped through both the bandage wrap and the sleeve of his blacks. For a moment his general’s eyes flicked to it, drawn to the light like a moth to a flame. Then Obi Wan licked his lips and straightened as much as his shoulder would allow him.
“Are you sure?” He asked, in such a way that made it seem like he was giving Cody an out. An opportunity to walk away. Like Cody could ever walk away now.
“I’m sure.”
Obi Wan stared at him in that soul-searching way that seemed so natural by now, glancing over his expression as if searching for the lie, for the trick. Cody simply stood by the door as open in both body and force as he could manage and stared straight back.
Finally, when Obi Wan could find nothing but honest truth, the Jedi nodded and scooched further down the bed so that his back bumped the wall. His eyes flicked to the empty space next to him, a clear instruction that Cody couldn’t help but obey. He sat on the bed and gently tugged his tabard free from his belt and folded it neatly on the floor. Then Cody peeled away his inner robe - which the General insisted was as good as armour despite the fact it was barely thicker than a sweater - and that too joined the pile on the floor. He watched Obi Wan carefully, trying not to move him in such a way it would hurt him.
When it came to his tunic Cody paused. Once he removed this, there would be no turning back. He’d get all the answers he’s ever wanted. Was he really ready for this?
“You don’t have to do this Cody.” Obi Wan whispered as if reading the man’s mind.
“Yes,” Cody exhaled. “I do.”
Obi Wan studied him for a moment, then simply nodded and turned his head to the side. As quick as he dared without looking pathetically desperate, Cody unlaced Obi Wan’s tunic and tugged it to the side so that the mark was visible. Almost immediately, the ability to think coherent thought escaped him as he saw his name written in golden ink across his General’s collarbone. But unlike Cody’s the gold wasn’t as vibrant, and parts of the lettering were faded and patchy.
“Obi Wan-”
“It happens sometimes, when you’re stressed. Normally I can ignore it but today was…worse.”
It almost physically pained him to hear those words.
“I did this?” Cody whispered, stroking the soulmark. Colour bled back into the writing with his touch, following the curve of his thumb. As he did so the tension seemed to leave Obi Wan’s shoulders and he slumped against the wall. “I’m so sorry Obi Wan. I never wanted to hurt you.”
Obi Wan grabbed his hand and held it firmly in his. “None of that. I know you would never hurt me intentionally Cody, you put your life on the line everyday for me and your brothers. You have nothing to apologise for.”
“But I-”
“Nothing.” Obi Wan repeated, glaring at him although his expression lacked any heat and came across more fond than anything.
Cody swallowed his words and turned his attention back to the soulmark. “You’ve known all this time. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Tell me honestly, would you have believed me if I told you we were connected by some ancient force bond?” Obi Wan laughed, and Cody had to laugh as well. He wasn’t even sure if he believed all this now, nevermind at the start of the war.
“I would have sent you to Helix to have your head checked.” He agreed. “It must have been hard, though, knowing it was me and never saying anything.”
“At least I had people to talk to. You’ve kept this,” Obi Wan’s hand travelled up his forearm, somehow following the centre line through his shirt. “To yourself for years.”
“It wasn’t so bad. I’ve had Rex to rant to when it got too much.” Cody went for humour but Obi Wan’s eyes softened sadly.
“I’m glad.”
Cody was suddenly very aware of his hand pressed against Obi Wan’s shoulder, and at a loss of what to do blurted out, “What now?”
“What do you want, Cody?” His general countered like it was the simplest question in the world. Maybe it was.
“You,” Cody whispered, trailing his hand up the man’s neck to cup his jaw. He leant forward so their foreheads bumped, holding them there. “I want you.”
Obi Wan was moving before Cody could get any bearings, flipping their positions so that it was Cody pressed up against the wall with Obi Wan straddling his lap. Then Obi Wan’s lips were on his and Cody didn't even think of pulling back before he was sinking into Obi Wan’s body. It was a good thing Obi Wan had him pinned against the wall or his knees would have buckled from the sheer onslaught of emotion. Something so incredibly wrong should not feel so right. His General was kissing him and Cody was enjoying it.
Cody shuddered when Obi Wan suddenly quickened, tongue swiping across his bottom lip almost desperately. Cody took it with a whimper, pulling his General closer. His hands found their way into Obi Wan’s hair, and he didn’t expect it to feel that soft. Slightly distracted now, Cody carded through his hair, fingernails catching on his scalp before giving it an experimental tug. Obi Wan gasped, breathless and mirthful, and shifted closer.
“Cody,” Obi Wan whispered like a prayer, swallowing Cody’s breathy moans with a kiss. Their marks were practically supernova by now, radiating warmth. The tender gentle touch of his fingertips against his cheek, skimming down his jawline to the base of his neck where they stayed felt like thousands of tiny electric shocks, setting his skin on fire.
“Ner kar’ta.” Cody muttered as Obi Wan moved across his jawline and settled behind his ear. The feeling of his teeth against his skin was a shock and he shivered, tilting his head to the side so that more of his skin was exposed to the Jedi. Obi Wan’s hum of pleasure vibrated against his skin and Cody couldn’t hold back the moan of pleasure anymore. He completely unravelled at every fleeting touch, bite of teeth, and held Obi Wan closer as he rode out the high.
Eventually, regrettably, Obi Wan pulled back, evidently pleased with himself as his eyes skimmed over Cody’s body.
The sensation of Obi Wan’s lips against his skin lingered even as he drew back, shifting off Cody’s lap and sitting next to him. He picked up Cody’s hand and held it, tracing patterns over his knuckles.
“Can I ask you something?” Obi Wan began, waiting for Cody’s assent before continuing. “Why haven’t you told your brothers? About the mark?”
Cody huffed, dropping his head to Obi Wan’s shoulder. “Do you think they would be able to keep the fact I have a glowing tattoo a secret? The whole galaxy would know by now.”
“But you told Rex?”
“That was…different. We were both defectives, and my batch mates for all they tried could never quite understand what we experienced. Of course Rex bore the brunt of it from the Kaminoans, but you can never really shake the feeling. It was the secrets that made us so close, you know.”
“Would you tell them now?” Obi Wan asked curiously.
“Maybe. It might take some time, but I told you didn’t I? How hard could it be?”
The silence that stretched between them implied they both knew exactly how hard that could be, but Cody stood by it all the same. If he can tell Obi Wan, then he can tell others. Within reason of course. Everything that had just happened in the past twenty minutes didn’t change the fact that if anyone outside of his brothers found out about his soul-mark he would be killed. Force knows what would happen to Obi Wan, this definitely classed itself as an attachment, force blessed or not.
“We’ll have to be careful,” Cody whispered as he bumped his forehead against Obi Wan’s. The Jedi leant into the pressure with a smile. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“We’re at war Cody, the Jedi have their attention elsewhere.” Obi Wan reminded him, not unkindly.
“And after?” Cody asked before he could bite his tongue. He rarely allowed himself to think of an after. He was born and bred for war, it's the only life he’s known. But now he found himself hoping for something else, something more.
“We can be together. We’ll figure it out, I promise.”
All Cody could do was nod and believe. The force had a plan for them, whatever the war threw at them they would come out the other side stronger and, more importantly, together.