#rex does fictober

[ghostofskywalker]

Can’t Hide For Long

Kix/Fem!Reader

Fictober Day 11 of 31 

Words: 1,693

Summary: There are two things any GAR personnel (but especially medics) should know: that things rarely ever go as planned, and that you should never try to avoid Kix when you're injured. 

Clone Troopers Masterlist

One blaster bolt grazed your upper arm while another stung your side, though the latter was partially missed as you dived to safety. The sound of the battle echoed in your ears, and you could see a few troopers up ahead who had taken cover behind a large tree, two men supporting a third between them. Knowing what you had to do, you pushed aside your own pain and headed towards them as quick as you could.

“What happened?” you asked as you stopped in front of the men and looked at the way the injured clone was laying on the ground.

“He’s bleeding!” one of the others told you as he peeked around the tree and shot at the oncoming droids. “But I don’t know what he needs.”

You nodded before addressing the injured man, who wasn’t wearing armor like the others, but rather just the officer’s uniform. “Where does it hurt the most?” you asked.

“My arm was shot, but-“ he groaned slightly as he spoke and pointed at his stomach, where you could see a small pool of red soaking into the uniform top. “Some debris from one of their bombs got me,” he murmured, pressing his hand to the wound.

You nodded, quickly unpacking the medkit that you carried and beginning to cut his shirt away so you could work. Since there was nothing to hold it in, he was losing blood quickly, and you immediately grabbed a rag and pressed it to his abdomen to try and staunch the flow. The trooper hissed sharply, and you apologized profusely for any pain that had come from your actions. “Can one of you radio to Captain Rex to tell him we need backup? And a med-droid, but I doubt he can send one out to us here, we’ll have to get him back to the Resolute.”

The others nodded and you heard one of them say something into the comm, but your attention was back on the injured man in front of you. “What’s your name?” you asked, trying to keep him awake until you could get him into the care of a med-droid, who would be able to do a lot more than you could with your little pack of supplies. This was supposed to be a seamless and simple mission, hence why some of the clones weren’t wearing their full armor, and you were just thankful you had the foresight to pack your medical supplies at all, just in case things got hairy.

“Viper, I’m a bridge tech,” he gasped out. “Who are you?”

You quickly introduced yourself as you kept the pressure on his wound even. “I’m a medic, as you probably guessed. They don’t just hand this equipment out to anyone.”

Viper laughed quietly at your weak attempt at a joke, but winced in pain seconds later. “You look injured too,” he said, his eyes fixed on your one arm, where the blaster bolt had left a nasty looking burn, and your stomach was starting to churn unpleasantly from the other wound in your abdomen. You couldn’t see the exact damage, but you knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” you responded gently. “I can’t even feel it right now.” You weren’t lying; the amount of adrenaline coursing through your body right now made sure that you weren’t focusing on anything but stopping the blood from Viper’s wound. You were going to feel it later, but you could deal with that once you were back on the ship.

Viper nodded before asking his next question. “Am I going to die?”

“No,” you told him firmly. “I’m going-”

“Hey,” One of the other troopers (you were almost positive his name was Ammo) cut you off, and you looked up at him. “Rex says that a transport will pick us up in a few minutes, we just need to hold on until then.”

“Alright, we can do that,” you said before turning back to Viper. You could see that the blood was starting to slow, but it hadn't completely stopped yet. “And no, you’re not going to die, I promise.”

He just nodded, leaving you to hope the transport was close by.

***

You didn’t start feeling the pain from your own wounds until you were back on the Resolute, Viper safely in the hands of med-droids and the other medics on duty. One of them offered to take a look at your arm and abdomen (you didn’t exactly advertise your injuries, but the bolts had left burn marks on your uniform in those places and revealed your injuries), but you argued that there were other troopers who needed medical attention more than you and that you could take care of your own wounds back in your quarters.

And in a way, you did take care of them, by peeling off your dirty and bloody uniform and slapping a bacta patch on each of the angry blisters (blaster bolts tended to self-cauterize, but they still needed to heal properly or there could be complications). After that, you threw on some random clothes and downed a bottle of water way quicker than you should have before passing out on your bunk, not even caring that you would probably have to change the sheets when you woke up because of all the grime and sweat still on your body.

Your little plan was interrupted however, when the door to your quarters opened five minutes later and someone jostled you awake. Since you were the only civilian medic at the moment, you had an entire room to yourself, so you had a sneaking suspicion that you knew who had just woken you up. “What do you want, Kix?” you asked, not even opening your eyes.

You could hear him sigh before speaking. “Did you refuse medical help?” he asked, and you finally looked up to see an admonishing glare on his face. While you weren’t sure exactly how to define your relationship with him, it seemed that the two of you were moving towards something more than friendship, so you weren’t too put off by his clipped tone.

“Your brothers needed it more than I did,” you said quietly, moving to sit up in bed and trying to hide the pain that spread through your stomach as you shifted.

Clearly, it didn’t work, because Kix’s face immediately changed as he noticed the discomfort in your expression. “Let me look at your wounds.”

“I promise, they’ll be fine.”

“No, I’m serious. Take off your shirt, don’t give me that look.”

You scoffed playfully. “Does that line work on all the girls?”

“Wha-” he started to say, then raised his eyebrows in exasperation when he caught on to your weak joke. “Come on, I want to help you. Please let me see your wounds?”

Sighing quietly, you obliged, pulling your shirt off to reveal where you placed the bacta patches on yourself, and you were suddenly very glad you decided to put a sports bra on before you laid down.

Silently, Kix peeled the patches off before applying some kind of salve from his med kit, bandaging both burns better than you had previously. Whatever he used had a cooling effect, and while the pain wasn’t washed away completely, it definitely helped to quell the dull ache you had been feeling since the adrenaline wore off. “How’s Viper?” you asked, breaking the silence.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. When they told me you had refused medical help, I immediately came to find you.”

“Kix!” you scolded. “You should have helped your brothers first!”

“Everything was just fine when I got there,” he said. “Between the few visiting medics from other battalions and the med-droids, they didn’t need my help.”

“The people in the medbay are a lot more important than I am.”

The look on Kix’s face was one of shock, as if he couldn’t believe you would actually say that about yourself, and he perched himself on the edge of your bed as he gently took your hand in his. “Please tell me you don’t actually believe that,” he said softly.

A little dumbfounded at his sudden change in demeanor, you stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know too many people who would give up the comfortable lives they had on inner rim planets and join the GAR, where we barely get enough sleep each night, let alone all the supplies we need. You are a source of happiness and joy for every clone you help, and I don’t want to imagine what my life would be like without you in it,” he said, squeezing your hand. “Don’t ever say that you’re not important.”

You just nodded, overcome with emotion after hearing what Kix had to say about you. Eventually, the comfortable silence in the room grew slightly stale, and you sucked in a breath before speaking. “Thank you.”

Smiling, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, and you selfishly found yourself wishing he would have kissed your lips instead. “Of course,” he said, and it looked like he was going to say something else, but the moment was interrupted by the beeping of his communication device. “I have to go now, but I’ll check in on you later?”

You nodded. “Okay, I should probably get some sleep anyway.” He was halfway out of the room when you spoke again, this time resolving to do the one thing that you had never been brave enough to do before. “Hey Kix?”

“Yes?”

“Next time we’re on Coruscant, would you want to go out for dinner or something?” It felt terrifying to say out loud, to act on your desires (and maybe it wasn’t the best time to do it), but you didn’t think you could wait much longer at this point.

And much to your delight, Kix’s face broke into a shy smile. “I’d really like that,” he said, but was once again interrupted by his comm beeping. You watched as he left the room, and you couldn’t help the way your heart warmed at the smile he gave you.

- the end - 

#ghostofskywalker.fictober #clone trooper kix #kix #kix x reader #kix x you #clone trooper kix x reader #clone trooper x reader #clone wars fanfiction #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction

[rexcaliburechoes]

01. “trust me, it'll be fun!” [fe echoes] // fictober 2019

Fanfiction // Now on Archive Of Our Own! Prompts: 01. “Trust me, it will be fun.” (from @fictober-event) Fandom: Fire Emblem Echoes Characters: Luthier, Delthea Rating: G; no relationships Warnings: None

Summary: The Great (not really) Bakery Heist (even though there wasn’t any actual heisting involved)

"It'll be fun, Lu! Trust me!" 

Luthier reckoned that this would be the last time, ever, that he would trust his little sister. Ever. Never, ever again. What could cause Luthier to lose his trust so? Sneaking off to the baker's and stealing some pastries, of course!

This was possibly the worst idea Delthea had in her nine years of living, and that was saying something. She's brewed up hurling fireballs at a straw target (bad), wandering around in the forest surrounding the village with no map (very bad), and now stealing muffins! Not only would they get into trouble with their parents, but also the baker, and then the whole village would know and it would be an absolute disaster! 

Luthier bit his lip, holding himself and Delthea back from the back entrance to the bakery. "I feel like throwing Fire spells at a straw scarecrow is a better idea."

"Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud, Lu. You gotta come out of your study at some point too, you know. Breathe the fresh air, admire the clouds-"

"And get into trouble with the town's baker." 

Delthea groans, tilting her head back and rolling her eyes to the sky. "Ughhhh! Luuuuuuu!" 

"I am just saying." Luthier frowns at her and crosses his arms. He opens his mouth to further reprimand her, but she had other plans. 

She grabs his wrist (quite strong for a little girl) and drags him to the wooden door. Luthier yelps, and she quickly shushes him. The baker, it seems, is not in the kitchen, but in the front of the store. Perfect. Delthea pushes the door wide open, recoiling at the squealing of the rusty hinges. She pokes her head inside, looking around before sliding in. 

"We shouldn't be doing this. We really, really, shouldn't be doing this." Luthier mumbles under his breath, glancing at the door that opened the kitchen to the main shop of the bakery. 

"Oh, relax. He's too busy to notice us back here." Delthea waves a hand dismissively, carelessly. Her fingers brush a ceramic bowl full of flour, tipping it over the end of the counter. Luthier lunges, catches it without so much as a dusting of flour leaving the bowl, and sets it back on the counter. 

"Be more careful!" He hisses in annoyance. His voice was pitched higher than normal, probably due to his nerves over being caught. "What are we in here for, anyways?" 

"I dunno. Something tasty I guess."

Luthier’s eyes widened in disbelief. Not only did she think of such a bad idea, but she didn’t even know what she wanted in the first place? His brain couldn’t even comprehend this. He was struck speechless.

Delthea, unaware of her brother’s malfunction, wanders about the kitchen aimlessly. She looks at the little baubles on the windowsill and coos at them, almost forgetting why they were there in the first place.

“Alright, I’ll get that order placed for you right away, ma’m.” Luthier’s ears pricked up at the baker’s voice and resounding footsteps on the floorboards, almost as loud as thunder. He panics, freezing in place for a few seconds before his brain kicks into high gear. He grabs his sister’s wrist and covers her mouth with his other hand. He pulls two of them into one of the back corners of the kitchen, beside the tall icebox.

Heart thrumming in his chest, he watches as the baker starts to measure out ingredients for the customer’s order. Slowly, carefully, Luthier inches out of the icebox’s shadow and towards the door. Delthea (or himself; he was too worried to notice) steps on one of the squeakiest, noisiest, god-awful floorboards. The floorboard squeals, alerting the baker of their presence. The man whips around, spatula in hand and an ill tempered look on his face.

Delthea wrenches her wrist from Luthier’s grasp and bolts out the back door, almost like a frightened deer, leaping through the woods. Luthier only cringes and covers his face with his hands.

“S-Sorry, sir! We didn’t do anything!” He stammers out, turning bright pink with embarrassment. “I’ll… I’ll just… go...”

And with that, Luthier bolts, too.

#rex does fictober #fictober19 #fire emblem #luthier #delthea

[ethelindawrites]

October 25

Fictober, Prompt 25 - “I could really eat something.”, Original Fiction

Warnings: off-screen eating of carrion? Fantasy. With dinosaurs. Because I can.

(I’m a bit late tonight, this one wanted to get away from me.)

As we got closer, it became obvious that the large mound ahead was what remained of a dead frill-horn.

Very obvious. A brief whiff made me gag, cough, and pinch my nose as soon as I could to block out even that bit of stench.

Below me, I could sense White-Eye’s opposite reaction. She lifted her head, deliberately sniffing the air.

I could really eat something, she told me hopefully.

“Okay,” I told her, “but maybe let me down here? I’m going to stay back.”

Obligingly, White-Eye bent her strong legs and lowered herself down, letting me clamber out of the minimal saddle strapped over her hips before rising and making her way towards the carcass with long strides.

I smiled fondly after her, still holding my nose, and retreated upwind. There was a small rise nearby that would give me a good vantage point on the surrounding area, so I made for that and put a simple barrier spell before settling down for a stretch and a rest. Most predators would smell White-Eye on me and were willing to respect her judgment, but there were always a few who didn’t care. More importantly, it would also temporarily stop any of the large plant-eaters, who tended to wander around without paying too much attention to what was happening down around their feet.

For a little while, I watched White-Eye eat (a somewhat terrifying process that was better viewed from a distance), but she seemed content enough, and unbothered by the smaller predators swarming the carcass. Soon, the warm afternoon sun had me yawning; we had walked most of the night and all day today. White-Eye was in no danger, and the barrier would warn me in plenty of time to do something about it if anyone approached me, so I let my eyes drift closed.

The sun hadn’t moved too much when I woke, feeling a familiar tremble in the earth from heavy footfalls. I adjusted the spell to expand and cover White-Eye as well as she lowered herself next to me, and forced myself to shift around, tucking up against her side near a small arm.

You are well? She asked, her voice sleepy as she turned her head to peer at me, the patch of white around one eye contrasting brightly with her mostly dark hide in the sun.

“Eech,” I said, catching a whiff of her breath, and she turned away again, amusement echoing down along our bond. “Fine, just sleepy.”

I will rest now as well. It is good here in the sun, and your lights will warn us of danger. She didn’t have the best grasp of magic, beyond that entailed by our bond, but I had done my best to adjust some of my spells so that their effects were readily perceptible to her senses as well as mine.

“All right,” I agreed, eyes already shut.

What woke me next was the subtle but alarming sensation that something was probing at my barrier spell. Careful not to move or open my eyes, I waited a moment, sensing something that was poking at the same spot over and over, but in a controlled way. Not with any force, not as if it were trying to break the spell, but more as if it were trying to get my attention quietly, which implied a certain level of intelligence and narrowed down who this visitor might be.

Half-expecting a fellow human in spite of the fact that we were far out between settlements, I was still not surprised to find a big-claw standing there instead, shooting wary glances at White-Eye in between each probe of the barrier.

It backed off quickly, head lowered warily, when she shifted, turning her head so that I could see one large eye was open, watching the big-claw.

There was a long, tense moment before I reached out and put a hand on White-Eye’s neck. She snorted, then relaxed slightly.

The big-claw raised its head hopefully, then bobbed a little in a nervous gesture. White-Eye rumbled, but closed her eyes and lowered her head as a sign that she wouldn’t interfere. I smiled, and stood up to lower the barrier.

The big-claw straightened as I approached, head quirking to first one side, then the other. It was a male, I thought, and not an adult. The adults of his kind were larger than a human, and his head wasn’t yet on a level with mine. He was dusky brown, with some early signs of the starker black and white feathers he would carry on his wings and tail when grown.

Taking a breath, I trusted my instincts and took down my personal shields so that I could reach out towards him with a bare palm up. He hesitated, but then stepped forward and rested his chin in my hand, letting me open a temporary connection between us.

The strong-jaw will not eat me? was his first, anxious question. She is very large. I wouldn’t be much of a meal.

“She just ate,” I assured him, hiding my amusement. “She’s not hungry at all.”

Well… White-Eye thought at me. Then: No. No, not hungry.

I carefully did not grin at that. “It’s safe.”

The big-claw shifted his feet, but then settled, seeming to accept that he could trust me.

“What brings you here?” I asked then. That he had sought me out deliberately was clear, but I had no idea why.

My family, he thought, unease coming over his mind again. We need help. My egg-mother does not agree, even though the wound does not heal. She is stubborn.

I frowned, and sensed a low pain in White-Eye’s mind. We had met a year ago when I found her crouched over the body of her mate, keening her grief. An infected wound had felled him, something strange from a small wound that his body had been unable to fight off.

“What sort of wound is it?” I asked him. “Big or small? When did she get it?”

It is small, and she got it two sun-arcs ago. She pretends that she can still walk without pain, he explained, clearly agitated, his tail feathers standing out and then pulling in smooth again, feet shifting.

White-Eye shifted, raising her head again, which did nothing to help the big-claw settle. I sent a wave of calm along the temporary bond, hoping it would help, and turned to look at White-Eye.

If great lizards had been able to frown, she would have been. It was the same with Grey. We did not know how he was wounded, but it was a short time before the pain was too great for him to move. I do not like this.

“I don’t either,” I agreed softly. To the big-claw I said, “Of course we’ll come. I may not be able to help, but I will try.”

It may affect a smaller one differently, but if it is like with my mate, then she should have another sun-cycle at least, White-Eye put in.

“Is your family far? Where is your territory?”

It is not far, he told me. It is north, and we can be there before the end of this sun-cycle.

The sun was lowering now, so hopefully he was right about that. His kind were fast runners, which White-Eye was not, but her longer legs could eat up distance at a surprising speed even when she walked.

I will have to walk with the strong-jaw, won’t I? he asked then, and this time I couldn’t help but laugh.

“She is White-Eye, and she comes with me. I promise that your family is safe from her, as she should be safe from them.” I emphasized the last part and got his agreement. He could go ahead once we got near with a warning so that no one would be startled. “Well, let’s get started then.”

I let him and our temporary connection go; we could follow him with no trouble until we found his family. White-Eye shifted so that she was ready to rise, and I climbed her leg quickly, settling into the saddle. She rose in one smooth motion, powerful muscles lifting us both easily, and strode after the young big-claw, who darted ahead, eager to get back to his family.

I would do my best to help his mother. There was something strange going on, and I suspected that if White-Eye and I thought about it, we could identify other cases of this illness that we had encountered without realizing it. It bore investigation, even if we were able to save this infected big-claw.

Together, we headed north.

(My brain has decided that fantasy dinosaurs are just as good as dragons.

frill-horn - some variety of ceratopsian, like Triceratops or related species

strong-jaw - Tyrannosaurus rex

big-claw - a raptor/dromaeosaurid, in this case, a juvenile male Dakotaraptor)

#fictober19 #fantasy #dinosaurs #animal companion #tyrannosaurus #raptors #dakotaraptor #fantasy dinosaurs #because I can

[nny11writes]

Fictober 2-Island

Rex only pauses for a moment before pressing the chime, then as he waits he takes his bucket off and clips it to his belt. He’s put on and taken off his bucket more than is proper in the last ten minutes, but even he still gets a case of nerves now and then. He’s just glad to not have instructors smacking at his hands every time he does it these days.

The door finally hisses open. General Skywalker is seated at his desk, a cup of cold caf at one elbow and a pile of seemingly endless pads and pages cluttering the rest of the desktop. Far more reports then he should have. Well, at least that is the theme that Rex was going to address anyways.

“How can I help you Rex?” Anakin’s normally light tones are rough and slow.

“First you can delegate those,” Rex waves a hand at the general mess, “and then you can get some actual sleep before Kix gives you a detox.”

When General Skywalker scowls or snarls on the battlefield, it is terrifying. Rex has often thought the droids lucky since they don’t have the emotional capacity to be afraid of the madman coming down on them. In private, Anakin’s scowling is somehow softened. It makes him look younger than he is, more like he did at the First Battle of Geonosis than a formidable knight.

“If that’s all you’re here for, you can see yourself out.” Anakin scowls down at his work.

Fucks sake. Rex sighs and takes a seat on the tiny metal chair meant for visitors. Anakin’s office is impressive in the sense that they found the space for it on the ship. It’s tiny, barely wide enough for someone to slip past the desk and just long enough to fit the two chairs, desk, reclemator, and sink. Behind Anakin’s hunched back is a door to his private quarters which are equally unimpressive except for the private fresher attached to it. The office is supposed to be a place the General can meet with high ranking officials and take his private coms. In reality, as soon as a second body is in it the whole room feels like a play house. Rex puts that to good use and folds his arms on the desk’s surface. He leans forward a hair and lets his flash training take over, absorbing all the information he can in seconds.

He picks the most obvious one and carries on when Anakin’s response is to double down on his sulking. “Requisitions? Rotation roster? Sir, Tano should be doing those.”

Rex lets it sit for a moment as Anakin works his jaw. “You know, I don’t see you taking over my duties. If you’re interested, it’s all about setting the PT schedules and working on supply logistics tonight.”

Anakin finally looks back up at him with a glare. “You can handle it Captain.”

Rex taps his fingers and nods. “So can she, you just have to give her the chance.”

“She’s new and doesn’t know what the hell she’d be doing.” Anakin mutters into his caf.

Excuses, always excuses! Rex fights the frown off his face and leans forward a little more. “Then teach her, or have me teach her. Kid can do it.”

“Yeah, but she is just a kid!” Anakin says from the wise old age of twenty one. Rex is unimpressed.

His General is a good man, but he’s still just a man. Unlike clones who are designed to mature quickly physically, mentally, and emotionally, Anakin has to do it the old fashioned way. Rex might only be twelve but compared to him, the General is also just another kid with his brain still forming all its lobes and centers. Skywalker is the youngest General in the war, keeping up with Jedi who are easily his senior twice over. Despite the outcry over giving a kid that kind of power he’s done remarkably well. Rex has been proud to watch this kid General grow into his position, to mature so quickly with each passing month. It’s baffling to watch him repeat all the actions that had cut him so deeply a scant few years ago.

Skywalker wants to be an eopie, so be it. Rex will pull out the big guns. “So send her back.”

“What-no!” Anakin’s whole face transforms, something like nervousness seeping into every line. “I can’t send her back Rex, you don’t know what they’d do. Jedi don’t take failure lightly.”

He doesn’t rise to the bait, he’s pretty sure that the Jedi don’t mind wipe or slag failures the way the Kaminoans are so fond of.

“Fine, keep her but don’t undermine her because you have issues. She’s the Commander of this unit and if you keep this up, not a single one of them men out there are going to follow her orders. Afterall, their General says she’s just a kid.” Rex finally leans back as Anakin winces. Oh good, progress at last. “Look, if nothing else, save yourself some rack time and have her work her way up to it. But in the next three weeks, she better be doing her duties or it will be noticed.”

“You’ve made your point Rex.” Anakin is leaning back now, rubbing at his face in exhaustion.

“Have I? You may be a big fancy General, but you can’t run this outfit by yourself. You need to trust the rest of us to help.” Rex swipes up a few datapads. “For instance, these are mine you two credit asshole.”

There’s that boyish grin, then one that means trouble. “Rex, I was just trying to help you get some rest.”

Rex stands, a small smirk in place. “Of course sir. This was about my well being and not you trying to avoid thinking about anything else.”

Anakin laughs but waves him out, Rex is not surprised at all to see the man lean back over his pilfered work.

#star wars the clone wars #fanfiction #fanfic #fictober 2-Island #Anakin Skywalker #Captain Rex #Captain Rex will ALWAYS deserve a raise #starwarsfictober

[skywalkersapprentice]

Day 3- Emotion

Anakin, Ahsoka and the Jedi Code.

rating: g

pairing: none

word count: 1880 

(read on ao3)

This one got away from me. But here’s day three of Star Wars Fictober- Emotion.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

“I don't understand,” Ahsoka admitted to her Master. “If Jedi aren't supposed to show emotion, how are we supposed to be compassionate? That part of the Code contradicts what we stand for as Jedi.”

“If you take it at face value, maybe,” Anakin replied. He set down his datapad, which he was using to write a report. “But the Code isn't telling us we aren't ever allowed to have emotions. What it's saying is that we shouldn't let our emotions rule us. If you have an important decision to make, make it with peace, not out of anger, or fear.”

“That makes sense.” Ahsoka frowned. “Why doesn't it just say so?”

Anakin shook his head, amused. “I dunno, Snips. I asked Obi-Wan the same thing when I was a Padawan.”

“And what did he say?”

“Some knowledge should be earned, not taken, my young apprentice,” Anakin said in a credible impression of his Master. Ahsoka masked a snicker behind her hand and went back to her studies.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

“You alright there, Ahsoka?”

Ahsoka dropped her hand from her chin and suppressed a yawn. “I'm fine, Master. I just have a lot of studying to catch up on since we've been away from Coruscant for so long.”

She expected him to nod in sympathy and leave her to it. Instead, he came around the table and sat down beside her. “What is it today? Languages? Galactic affairs? History?”

“History,” Ahsoka said. “The Hundred-Year-Darkness.” It wasn't boring by any means, but once she was finished the chapter on that, she needed to start on her languages. It was going to be a long night.

“Hey, I remember doing that bit,” Anakin said. “Do you have any questions? I was pretty good at history.”

And swordmanship, and languages, and galactic affairs, and most other subjects, from what she had heard. Ahsoka had big shoes to fill as his Padawan. She would appreciate the help with her studies, but...

“What's wrong?” she asked suspiciously. “This isn't like you. At all.”

“Nothing's wrong,” Anakin assured her. “But you've been stuck in the library all day and you deserve to have some free time before we ship back out again. So let's get this over with.”

Ahsoka blinked. The fact that Anakin occasionally paid attention to things like that was news to her.

But, it was also nice that he cared. She found herself smiling. “Thank you, Master.”

There is no passion, there is serenity.

“Rex!” Ahsoka yelled across the blasterfire. She made to run across the battlefield to the fallen soldier, but Anakin held her back.

“If you try to go over there in fire this heavy, you are going to get hit,” he hissed. “Jesse and Kix are with him. The best thing you can do for Rex right now is to clear your mind and finish this fight.” His gaze softened, just a bit. “Okay?”

Ahsoka took a deep breath, forcing herself not to look back across the field to Rex's prone form. “Okay.”

They dove back into the fray, but things were different now. Feelings of anger and fear drove Ahsoka's actions, making her swings heavier and her head feel clouded. She gritted her teeth and took down one battle droid with such ferocity that she almost got shot by another coming up behind her. Frustrated, she hacked that one into pieces as well.

This wasn't working. She was trying to channel her emotions into a passion that could help them win this fight, but it was leaving her vulnerable and she was making mistakes she hadn't made in months.

Focus, she told herself. Clear your mind. You can do this.

She took a breath, in and out, and the world around her seemed to come back into focus. She reached for the Force to help center herself, and slowly, the clouds in her mind lifted.

She had found her point of serenity, and now she would win this for Rex.

Later, when they had secured a perimeter and Rex was safely in the med bay aboard the Resolute, Anakin came up beside her.

“You did well today Snips,” he commented. “I saw you starting to lose it out there, but you pulled it together and kept going.”

“Your training is finally starting to pay off,” Ahsoka said lightly, though inside she was beaming at the praise. Anakin nodded.

“That must be it,” he said in that false cocky tone of his. Then he smiled warmly. “In any case, good job.”

There is no chaos, there is harmony.

It was a two man job. Get in, get out, don't be seen. Both as simple and as difficult as that.

All the men nominated Anakin and Ahsoka for the job.

“It couldn't be anyone else,” muttered Hardcase, and there were several murmurs of agreement.

The two of them ran silently through the grasslands of Vexis III, careful to stay out of the path of the searchlights coming from the Separatist compound. The weight of twenty thermal detonators in each of their packs didn't even slow them down.

Once they were safely in the shadows at the base of the compound, Anakin stepped back to look at the tall walls before them.

“You ready?” he said in an undertone.

“Just like we practised,” Ahsoka confirmed. She took a running start at the wall, then leaped, using the Force to assist her. As her feet left the ground, she could feel Anakin drawing on the Force to give her an extra boost. For a moment she was flying, soaring through the dark skies over the compound.

She touched down on top of the wall, careful to make as little noise as possible. Turning around, she accessed the Force again- this time to help Anakin as he made his jump. When they were both on the wall, Anakin gave her a short nod, then ran left along the wall. Ahsoka turned right.

The whole thing had taken less than thirty seconds.

Getting in undetected had been the hard part. From there, it was easy to sneak around the Separatist compound, evading battle droids and planting thermal detonators. They had both agreed on their respective courses of action beforehand- Ahsoka would take the open yard, Anakin would go for the reactor powering the compound. When they were done, they would meet outside.

Ahsoka planted her last five detonators on the tanks by the door, then slipped outside with the patrol. When she got to the rendezvous point, Anakin was waiting.

“What took you so long?” he quipped, and Ahsoka rolled her eyes, knowing it was too dark for him to see.

“Better to be thorough than to rush through and make mistakes,” she said.

“Now you sound like Obi-Wan,” Anakin said. He held up his thermal detonator switch. “Ready?”

Ahsoka raised her own and nodded. Anakin counted down, and on one, they both pressed their switches.

Two hundred yards away, the separatist compound lit up as bright as day.

Anakin and Ahsoka exchanged satisfied looks. With them, the result of harmony was usually chaos, and that was the best part.

There is no death, there is the Force.

“I brought you some tea,” Ahsoka said softly. She stepped further into Anakin's quarters, taking in the silhouette by the window.  He wasn't standing tall like he usually did. There were new lines of grief etched into his frame.

Anakin didn't move. “No thank you.” His voice was hoarse.

“Anakin, you haven't eaten anything in days.”

“I'm not hungry.”

Ahsoka set the tea down on his workshop bench and came to stand beside him at the window.

Usually, silences between them were peaceful and calm. This one was not. It was awkward and empty and Ahsoka could tell that her Master was struggling to control his emotions.

“You still haven't been sleeping, huh?” she guessed. “Neither have I.” The nightmares were so bad, she didn't want to try.

Anakin looked up at that. “You need to sleep, Snips. We have to be ready in case the Council decides to send us out again.”

Ahsoka rested a hand on his shoulder. It was a role reversal that was rare with them. “Maybe it's time for you to take your own advice.”

Anakin shook his head. His lips were pressed tightly together. “I can't.”

“I know.”

He took a few steps back, then, sinking down onto one of the round meditation stools by the window. Ahsoka sat down on the other, taking a moment to study his features.

He looked thinner, like he'd lost weight he couldn't afford to. His face was pale and drawn and his eyes were dull, like a spark had gone out within them.

Anakin loved deeply and he felt loss even deeper. It wasn't a surprise that Obi-Wan's death was affecting him like this, but it broke her heart further all the same.

“Have you been meditating like Master Yoda said?” Anakin asked.

After the funeral, Master Yoda had told them both to meditate and release their grief into the Force. Ahsoka had tried at first, but quickly discovered that destroying things in the training room was much more effective at taking her mind off things.

“Sort of,” she hedged. Anakin raised an eyebrow and she sighed. “No.”

“I understand,” Anakin said. “But Ahsoka, meditation is still important. These things... take time to process, and meditating can help with that.”

“Then why aren't you meditating?” Ahsoka challenged lightly. By now, she could tell the difference between pieces of wisdom that Anakin meant and things he was saying because he thought she was supposed to learn them.

He looked down. “I can't.”

“Don't give me the official Jedi Master sayings, Anakin,” Ahsoka said, leaning forward. “Not after- not now.”

“What do you want me to say, Snips?” Anakin said helplessly. “I can't tell you to sleep, because I'm not sleeping. I can't tell you to meditate, because I'm not doing that either. I could tell you there is no death, there is the Force and a Jedi does not form attachments and a hundred other things, but that won't help because you and I are too alike for our own good.”

“Master Kenobi used to say that a lot,” Ahsoka said without thinking. “Usually after we'd pulled off another one of your wild schemes.”

“Hey, those schemes worked every time, no matter what he tried to say,” Anakin retorted automatically, and they both stared at each other for a moment.

It was the first time one of them had directly mentioned Obi-Wan since that day in the alley.

Anakin cleared his throat, glancing away. Ahsoka twisted her fingers together in her lap.

And the world just- kept going.

There was silence again, but this time it was much less awkward.

“As for what I want you to say,” Ahsoka ventured after a while, “yes to the tea would be a good start.”

Anakin blinked, as if he'd completely forgotten about it. He aimed a hesitant smile at Ahsoka. It was a shadow of his usual bright, cocky grin, but still a good sign. “You know, tea sounds great, Snips. Thanks.”

It wasn't just a thanks for the tea, and they both knew it.

“Anytime, Master.”

#anakin and ahsoka #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #starwarsfictober #writings #it's still the third here so technically i haven't missed a day yet #also i rewrote the last section four times before i was happy with it

[rexcaliburechoes]

Thinking about doing Fictober this year... Maybe. It'll definitely push my limits as in writing in a short period of time in between busy scheduling and tests but I think it'll be fun.

If you wanna read my writing on this blog, check out the #rex does fictober tag on this blog (there's nothing yet though)

Blease validate my writing;;;; when I post it;;;;

#outside of queue #rex does fictober #rex rambles