A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away....
Tales of laughter, tales of utter love, tales of wisdom and tales of friendship.
Dive deep into a collection of stories featuring our favourite, complex heroes from a galaxy far, far away....
- The amazing art and Star Wars Franchise are not mine.
Warnings: Small mentions of blood. Padmé worrying over Anakin.
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⸙NOW⸙
"General Skywalker?" 501st Medic Kix started, his golden-brown eyes studying his superior officer's face in suspicion. Anakin Skywalker, renowned Chosen One, courageous Hero with No Fear, shifted from his lying position, breaking out of his meditative trance to face the curious clone medic of the famous, creative 501st clone legion.
"Why is there lipstick on your lips, nose, and cheek?" Kix continued quizzically, identifying the creamy, crimson red cosmetic from the various times Jesse returned to the barracks with it staining his cheek.
"Ah, what?!" Reckless Jedi General Anakin Skywalker questioned nervously, lifting his prosthetic arm from the disinfectant-smelling bedsheets to rub his neck anxiously.
"No. No, this is just...uh...meiloorun juice that is a bit more red than usual." Skywalker explained as Kix disinfected and cleaned the blood staining his wounded flesh arm. At Anakin's futile excuse, Kix sighed heavily and studied the Resolute's pristine white, technological Medway, his attentive eyes searching for a Bacta spray container free of battle rust and dust.
"I can't recall remembering meiloorun juice being a crimson red creamy substance. But I do recall Senator Amidala just leaving this room after I came back from fetching more bandages." Kix smirked, internally grateful that next time the 501st would bet on Senator Amidala and the General's relationship, he would possess an advantage. While his dumbfounded General struggled to search for the right words, Kix gave up searching for a bacta container, remembering he wasted it all on Fives last week. Instead, Kix wrapped another thick, military-grade bandage around Skywalker's wounded flesh arm before collapsing on a worn plasteel chair, his muscles aching from his several missions in the last month.
"Ah...um. You caught me then! She gave me food from Dex's diner." The General attempted clarifying, fiddling with his chestnut curls. "I doubt it. She couldn't have fitted it in her hip holster. I promise I won't tell anyone about your affair with the Senator, General." Kix, the intensely loyal man he was, proclaimed as the tension from Anakin's chiselled face drained away. "Thank you, Kix. I can't believe you worked it out, though. But I swear if you tell anyone-" Skywalker's fiery rant was cut off by Kix's calm and collected voice. "I know, General. You'll be expelled from the order, and you'll demote me and not speak to me again. And if I wasn't a clone, you'd punch me." Kix clarified, praying his General would always consider him a loyal, courageous man.
"Right." Skywalker's tense muscles relaxed as he collapsed onto the confined bed, his chocolate brown hair exploding over the soft pillow. "Now, when can I leave? After all, your commanding officer has important business to attend to." Skywalker questioned for what seemed like the millionth time in that half an hour Kix spent tending to his wounds after the brutal battle Anakin, Ahsoka and Obi-wan had endured an hour earlier.
