Jedi don't form attachments. At least, they're not supposed to. But Obi-Wan's newly appointed Padawan, Y/N, seems to have fallen into the strangest sort of love with Captain Rex.
As the apprentice struggles to navigate their inner turmoil with the d...
"A desolate mission! The padawan lands on the icy surface of Pantora, a freezing planet in its winter. The jedi and the other clones must reach the Wolfpack, so that they may continue the mission--and uncover its true nature."
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The winter on Pantora was cruel. You took in your surroundings. A complete whiteout, the sky blowing thick and grey as a Tooka's tail, and you couldn't see past thirty meters in the howling storm. Catching sight of your battalion, you hurried over to them with your boots kicking up more snow. In the distance you could see the foggy blinking lights of another Republic ship, and a squad of other troopers exited it, headed in your direction.
Ahead of you, Commander Tano encouraged the troopers and yelled through the gale: "Come on! We need to get to the 104th over there, and then we're heading down that path to the encampment. Does everyone hear me?" she said, her eyes quickly roving over everyone before turning back to the path. "Alright, everyone follow my lead!"
You let out a frosty breath and wrapped your snowcoat tighter around yourself, trudging on with the rest of the squad. Come on, you can make it through this, you thought, angry at yourself for being so soft. Look at them all. This was what you agreed to when you became a Padawan.They've been through so much more and they're not saying a word. You needed to push on; if you couldn't handle a simple delivery mission like this, then what could you do? Weak. Useless. That disparaging voice reverberated through your head as you forced yourself to keep going. Weak. Weak. Weak. Pathetic. Unable to endure a little snow. Be stronger.
Finally you reached the other squad. Gray paint dotted their armour. Their commander called his squad the 'Wolfpack'. Odd name, but it felt pleasant to see the camaraderie between its members. You stayed back and watched as the two squadrons intermingled, chattering happily between each other. Wolffe saluted to Tano, and the general Plo Koon shook her hand and patted her on the back discreetly as they discussed the plan.
Everyone seemed to know each other, always having some experience in common, and you found yourself sitting alone in the corner of the encampment. You let out a frost-ridden sigh and watched the steam blow away in the frigid air. Presently someone lit a campfire in the center of the gathering; supplies were counted, rations distributed, and as the sky faded to dark, Ahsoka called for everyone's attention.
"Alright, now you might be wondering why this cargo required two entire squadrons to travel with it," she began, her voice ringing out over the clearing. The campfire cast its light on everyone's attentive faces. "The plan is that we go down the path, break through the small separatist outpost, and reach the Pantoran encampment to deliver the supplies. That's right, this was an attack mission," she said, and you could've sworn that you saw pride cross Plo's face.
"We needed the separatists to be convinced that this was just a delivery of supplies to the Republic camp here, but really we're trying to help the Pantorans. We know that the separatists keep track of our movements, so we tried to keep their guard on that outpost as low as possible. They won't expect the sudden attack."
Her words prompted a murmur to rustle among the clones. Whether it was respect for Ahsoka or dissent for her plan, you couldn't tell. You put your hands on your knees in your sitting position on the ground, thinking of all the ways that you'd mess up. Wait, why did they need you on this mission if it was so important? Maybe I'm bait, you thought bleakly.
Someone separated from the group and you dimly became aware of him approaching you. It was a different clone from before; visibly from the Wolf Pack. His hair was cut short and messy, dyed an odd silver. You'd overheard the others call him 'Comet'. He bent over to peer at you with an easy smile. "What's got you so down, soldier? Take heart, we've got a mission to carry out!"
You tried your best to smile back. "I don't know, I'm just worried, I suppose. I'll probably just end up droid-bait, considering my skill set." You looked away and set your head on your hands.
"Hahahah, come on, rookie," he chuckled gruffly, "you've got nothing to complain about. You'll be fiiinee, just don't let that conscience of yours get to ya. Darkside and whatnot, I dunno." He set his helmet on the nearby ground just as CT-7567 walked over.
You coughed, affronted. "What? Pardon? I can't say I understand."
Comet sniffed haughtily. "Well, y'know. I've heard it's always the anxious and fearful padawans that turn to the darkside. I 'unno why the Jedi claimed someone as easily frightened as you, though." Captain Rex was now in earshot, sitting on the ground and mending his armour. Comet went on, "Maybe you should just cut out the middle man and go become a Sith, heheh."
You blinked, now feeling provoked. "Wh- what? What the kriff are you on about?" you said, standing up and crossing your arms defensively.
Comet raised his hands in mock-defense. "Hey, woah, I was just messing around- all- all I'm saying is, it's not too late to quit, y'know. Some people just aren't cut out to fight on the front lines. No offense," he added quickly, looking you up and down.
"Ah, Comet, cut Y/N some slack; this is their first mission," Rex said, walking over to you. "And don't make jokes like that. I'm no Jedi, but I don't think this kid needs the 'daaarrrkksiiideee' weighing in on their conscience." He pantomimed spooky gestures when he'd said 'darkside'. Comet rolled his eyes with a good-natured smile, and walked off to the others.
The Captain headed over and crouched down next to you. "You hungry, rookie? There's enough rations to go around, you know." The firelight from behind him glowed over the sharp lines of his face. Dimly you became aware of the aching hunger in your stomach, but the nausea from before made any thought of food unbearable. "I'm fine," you replied softly. "Just thinking about stuff."
He stood back up and gazed down at you. "Well, I suggest you do eat. I'm in no position to command you, but you will need the energy for tomorrow's mission, Moony."
"Alright," you murmured, then did a double take. "Wh- huh? Who the hell is Moony?"
The captain let out a short laugh. "'Moonildt' is a bit of a mouthful, I figured you could do with a nickname like the rest of us." He did a short salute and cast a rakish grin your way. "Best of luck, Moony!" he called, trodding off to join his brothers. A few surrounding troopers hid their amused smiles with their hands, and you felt your nose flush. Well, kriff, you thought.
*** Later that night in the tent, you couldn't sleep. You tossed and turned in your sleeping bag, watching everyone else sleeping soundly in regimented lines. You couldn't stop thinking about the past. The worries scurrying around your head would surely kill you, if this mission didn't. You sighed lightly through your nose and shivered, feeling the cold prick your skin all over with icy little needles.
Tomorrow is another day, you assured yourself. Tomorrow is another day.
