Scars (Commander Wolffe x Jedi Reader)

Prologue

The Clone Wars were a cruel, tragic, and devastating event that affected countless lives. Many lost their homes, their loved ones, their faith, and even their lives. Both the Clones and the Jedi fought and sacrificed selflessly in a war that they didn't choose to be a part of. They did everything they could to protect strangers across the galaxy, who would never even bother to learn their names or show any gratitude for their heroic actions. During the war, both the Clones and the Jedi faced many restrictions. The Clones were not allowed to enjoy even the simplest of pleasures and were treated as nothing more than mere products instead of the brave soldiers they truly were. They had fewer rights than even the convicts in the Republic prisons. The Jedi, on the other hand, were bound by their code, prohibiting them from forming any human attachments or loving anyone. They were not allowed to express basic human emotions for fear of falling to the dark side.

Despite that, though, love still somehow flourished. Clones managed to find a semblance of peace away from the battlefield in the arms of another, even if it was only for a few short hours. If they were lucky, it lasted longer. The Jedi found solace in the arms of the troopers they fought side by side with on the never-ending rotation of merciless battlefields and warzones.

Most Clones and Jedi, in some sort of relationship, had a tendency to keep them secret, if only to avoid the scrutiny of their peers and the judgment of those who would so quickly look down upon them for wanting the simple pleasures of life. Most, if not all, of them, hid their devotion out of fear of what would happen if discovered. None of them wanted to imagine the horrors that awaited. Nor the idea of being ripped away from each other for the simple crime of wanting to love someone, of wanting to be loved, of wanting to feel more than being a warrior meant to die on the battlefield. A prisoner without chains.

CC-3636 was one of the most respected Clone Commanders, gifted with a strategic mind and brothers he could count on for anything. Preferring to be called Wolffe, he was looked upon as a role model by many cadets. Close with his Jedi General Plo Koon, but haunted by the traumas of the war, scared even to get close to someone outside those apart of the famed Wolf pack, for fear he would lose them. He feared the Malevolence nightmare repeating with others he let himself care for. Despite that, he cares deeply for his brothers and respects Plo above all others. Many times, Wolffe had been faced with a cruel decision, forced to choose between the lives of his brothers; every time, he'd save as many as he could and never forgot the names of those he lost.

After losing his eye to Ventress, he gained a new coldness, especially to the children of Dathamir. Although he'd admit they were few and far between, it didn't prevent his distrust in them. His distrust tainted even the purest of intentions, making him suspicious of even the gentlest acts of kindness.

One of the most known Jedi Generals was (Y/N) Black, commonly referred to as a Princess General by many clones or simply Princess by several of her fellow Jedi. She was Dathomirian, a Night Sister similar to Asajj Ventress. Strong in the force with a talent for breaking or bending the rules, a friend to everyone, and one of the biggest supporters of Clone Rights. As a General, she was battle-tested, clever, and always had plans and backups in case anything went wrong. If one of her bright ideas was risky, the only life in danger was her own. She trusted her men, respected them, and valued their lives above her own. There was never a time when she'd called a trooper by their identification number. Instead, she called them by their chosen names, friends, or, in some cases, affection nicknames in various languages.

Everything had been selectively normal or as close to normal as the war could get. (Y/N) had returned to Coruscant with her legion 916th Battalion. Their last assignment to the outer rim had been a particularly nasty one, even more so upon the discovery that the republic information had been detrimentally wrong. The locals had been caught in the crossfire, many injured and killed, and in the end, they were forced to retreat, the droid reinforcements being too much for one lone Jedi and batallion to handle.

Although (Y/N) hated admitting defeat with a passion, she did what was best for her troopers; once again, she had put them before the often pointless and corrupt demands of the Jedi Council and Senate. Upon returning to Coruscant, she wished her troopers a fond farewell before leaving for the Temple, mourning the loss of those who hadn't made it and wishing a speedy recovery for those who had been injured. As usual, she gave her normal line of "Stay out of trouble."

As per usual (Y/N)'s arrival at the temple was expected. As soon as she entered the city-sized structure, she was swept to the communications center to be debriefed and hounded with questions that only served to wear down her already thin patients further, as well as question the overall intelligence of the council members interrogating her. Despite her desire to speak her mind, she kept her snide comments and obvious frustrations to herself, at least until she made it back to the safety of her quarters, where she could release her pent-up anger and frustration in privacy. Or that would have been the plan had she not been informed of a request by Master Plo. He asked for her assistance in the mid-rim.

"I will inform my troopers," commented (Y/N), already feeling down about having to spoil the well-earned shore leave break.

"Not your men, Black, just you," quickly corrected Mace Windu, seeing her uncertainty; no doubt she still remembered what happened the last time another took control of her boys. The inexperienced Jedi knight had become lousy with the power and all but played god with the trooper's lives, cost so much all because he refused to listen to the advice of Trip, the clone captain who served as (Y/N)'s second.

"I will leave on the marrow," replied (Y/N) before leaving to return to her quarters, exhaustion seemingly jumping her the moment she passed the threshold, her mind turning lousy too, as if it was already in shutdown mode to prepare her for the horrors that waited for her. Upon completing her normal routine, she soon got comfortable, drifting off slowly, at least before the intruding thoughts began to bug her.

Working with her Master again would bring its own challenges. With Master Plo came Commander Wolffe, the battle-worn trooper with a known hatred of her kind. As (Y/N) tried to drift off, her thoughts turned to the struggles both would face. She was used to being judged with fear by strangers. She was used to being called a witch even when she wasn't one. But being hated because of the actions of another wasn't something she was used to; it was a challenge in and of itself, as would be working with the commander in question. After all in his mind, she was no different than Ventress, she was the enemy too.