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They found him in a spaceport on a smuggler’s moon. It was another mission that had brought them there - the remains of the Separatists were kicking up trouble and trying to run blasters through there - but all thoughts of that mission fled CC-2224’s mind immediately when he caught a flash of all too familiar red hair.
General Kenobi was sitting on a stack of crates waiting to be loaded up into a battered ship. The crates were presumably waiting on the droids that were scrambling to get the ship into some semblance of a working order, and the General -
The General, he realized suddenly, was asleep, head tipped back in exhaustion on the crates behind him, just like he used to do -
Just like he used to do before -
Before the order came to shoot him.
Cody never would have shot his general. But CC-2224 had done it without a second thought.
But the General wasn’t dead, he was here, and he was close enough that the familiar warmth was stealing through CC-2224’s chest, and he didn’t remember this, not exactly, but he remembered the echo of it, and he wanted it more than he could remember ever wanting anything.
“Change of plan,” he ordered hoarsely though his comm. “Converge on my position. Now.”
His men didn’t question orders.
They never did.
They didn’t need the Jedi.
Or, well, they did, they really, really did, because without the Jedi, Ventress and Dooku would decimate his brothers even more than they already did, and because without the Jedi, they’d be stuck with natborn officers who treated them like trash, but the chemical thing – that wasn’t need.
They didn’t need to be around a General to feel happy. Cody knew this for a fact. He was happy when he could take a rare day of shore leave with Rex. He was happy when more of his men than expected pulled through after a battle. He was happy when he heard about some prank that had been pulled off as long as it wasn’t his responsibility to deal with it.
It was just that when one of their Jedi is in the room, everything just felt . . . right. The center of his chest warmed, and some of the ever present tension in his shoulders lessened. It took all of his discipline not to smile every time one got close. It felt like he had slotted into his place in the universe, and that no matter how bad things got, it couldn’t be as a bad as all that because it was all part of some greater plan.
It was, maybe, just a little addicting.
It took him longer than it should have for him to realize that the General was holding a shiny. A Jedi shiny, he assumed, though he didn’t dare get quite close enough to be sure.
The shiny was sleeping as peacefully as his General.
Two was better than one, he thought, and it was objectively true, of course; his superiors would be twice as pleased, and with the shiny so young it wasn’t like there was even any real additional danger.
It was true.
But the thought rang oddly in his head nonetheless.
He was lucky because sometimes they had two or even three Jedi; his general’s lineage stuck close. The more there were, the more the feeling multiplied.
The one time he visits their Temple he had to take a moment and just breathe through bliss so intense his body didn’t quite know how to deal with it.
The brothers on Coruscant had been pitied at first; they’d been stuck working with senators, mostly, and that wasn’t an experience anyone envied.
But some of them had gotten close to a Jedi after an assignment, gotten a hit, and they’d starting hanging around as close to the Temple as they could get on their off hours until Fox finally snapped and started assigning them to “Temple Guard Duty,” an assignment he had made up on the spot to preserve at least a veneer of professionalism.
The Jedi never questioned it, though, something that would be more concerning if it weren’t for the fact that the Jedi could sense people’s intentions and must have sensed nothing amiss. Besides, it was really just the clones they had that much blanket trust in, and Cody’s brothers would never betray them, so that was alright.
That cover gave the off-duty brothers enough courage to start hanging around inside the Temple, something they also never got in trouble for. They did, however, start getting recruited to look after the Jedi shinies. More and more of the Jedi Masters were getting called away to the front, even their most peaceful, and apparently the remaining crechemasters needed all the help they could get.
He hadn’t heard that any of his brothers minded a bit.
If he had been angry or frightened or malicious at all, he thought the General would have woken sooner. The Force would have warned him. Maybe even if he had just been feeling that endless blankness that seemed to stretch out to the very edges of his memory.
But he didn’t. He felt warm and safe and like he was exactly where he was supposed to be in the universe, and the General just settled deeper into his rest, weary mouth almost twitching into a smile.
His peace only seemed to grow as the rest of the men joined them and the blankness of their faces eased as the warmth spread.
Something that felt a little like a memory flashed through him, and he thought, Don’t wake him. He gets little enough sleep as it is, always up worrying about the next campaign, about the men in the infirmary, about, about -
He was sure the Jedi traitor had a lot to worry about in the new Empire. They couldn’t let that stop them.
“Shoot to stun,” he ordered, and those words, it seemed, were too much, even with the happiness, and the General jolted to awareness and his feet in the same moment, one arm wrapped carefully around the shiny and the other bringing his lightsaber up into the guard position.
But as everyone there knew only too well, there was only so much even a Master could do when taken by surprise and surrounded.
It was something the Kaminoans did, they were all pretty sure, because it affected every single one of them, and because they were pretty sure it wasn’t just the Generals projecting something; even if Skywalker was ranting in high fury or General Kenobi was brooding in deep, quiet grief, or they were unconscious and unaware they had company at all, it still felt right to be there, better than it could possibly feel to be anywhere else.
It was smart, objectively speaking, reluctant as he was to grant the Kaminoans any credit; it encouraged them to stick close to the Generals, which meant they were better able to protect them, and it discouraged desertion. It motivated all of them too, because better performances meant better promotions, and the higher in the ranks they got, the more time they tended to get to spend with their Jedi.
But it wasn’t a need. That just wouldn’t be practical. There weren’t enough of the generals for everyone to get to spend enough time with them, and some of them weren’t posted with Generals at all.
It went wrong sometimes too, like it did with Slick, who rebelled against the feeling, was convinced it was something the Jedi were doing on purpose to keep them enslaved, and who ended up twisting himself up so far that he couldn’t see what he’d become in the process.
Cody thought Slick missed part of the point. The Jedi were more than just a quick hit of feel-good to make the rest not so hard to bear. They were the people on the front lines with his brothers, taking hits meant for them, visiting them in the infirmary and fighting for their right for time to heal, holding them as they died and treating them like people when they did.
Even without the rest of it, that would have been enough.
They had to put a Force suppressant collar on the General, of course. It was too big of a risk otherwise, but it made something inside of CC-2224 twist.
This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong -
But it was hard to think anything was wrong when he still felt so much better than he had in months.
The happiness didn’t fade when the collar went on the General, so Fox must have been wrong, it wasn’t some sort of Force projection after all, and Cody would get to collect on the bet -
The thought slipped away as soon as it came. It was nonsense. Treasonous nonsense.
They took the baby to the infirmary to make sure he was healthy enough. They didn’t bother checking for Force sensitivity.
The trooper holding him was beaming even as the baby wailed to be fed, and that was all the proof they needed, really.
One of the natborn troops asked hesitantly if they needed to try to find a Force suppressing collar that would fit a baby.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” CC-2224 snapped.
Don’t be ridiculous, don’t you know how much that hurts their development? Bones looked into it when he thought we’d be getting a padawan -
Don’t be ridiculous. He’s too young to possibly be a threat.
Fox had been like Slick in just one way: he’d thought it was a Force projection of some kind, intentional or not.
Later, if he’d been able to wonder, Cody might have thought back to just how often Fox had to work with the Chancellor. Might have thought back to something Rex had said after Krell.
“I felt sick just standing near him,” he whispered. “But it was worse when I went away. My hands started shaking, and I kept wanting to go back – “
That was what a dar’jetii felt like, Cody guessed. He couldn’t get a good feel for Ventress on the battlefield, not with Obi-Wan always so close, but it seemed reasonable.
The Jedi didn’t feel anything like that sick need. It was just warmth and light, and, yes, Cody craved it, but that was just because everything else was nothing but pain.
Everyone wanted to be the one to guard the General, but he was their commander still, even after the demotions the Empire had brought, so he was the one who was there when the General woke up.
Him and a natborn officer who had no business being there, but he outranked Cody now, so he gritted his teeth and bore it.
There were other troops there too, on the other side of the bars just in case, but he didn’t think the General would try anything. Not yet.
“Luke,” the General said, as soon as his eyes flew open. He scrambled to sit up on his cot, hands flying up to the collar but barely seeming to notice it, eyes wild. “What have you done with him?”
“We’ll be asking the questions,” the natborn snapped, and CC-2224 should really start thinking of him by name, but -
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Commander Cody.”
versus
“We’ll be running this ship strictly to regulations. That means designations, not these ridiculous nicknames I’ve heard rumors about.”
- Names for officers were earned, and this man hadn’t earned it.
“He’s safe,” CC-2224 said, and he had to fight to leave off the sir. He’d been being passed from the arms of brother to awed brother in the Mess the last time he saw, but no brother would dream of hurting him. He’d have what he needed as soon as he thought to open his mouth to cry for it.
The officer shot him a look. He didn’t care.
The General’s eyes locked on him, and Cody couldn’t bear the grief and horror that welled up there before the General ruthlessly locked it down.
It was good and right that Cody should be here, and he was so, so happy to be here, but his General shouldn’t look like that to see him. Not ever.
But the General wasn’t the Negotiator for nothing; he saw someone willing to give him an inch, and he prepared to drive it a mile.
“He’s not a Jedi,” he said softly. “He was born on Empire Day, too young even to be taken as an initiate. He is Force sensitive, yes, but last I checked that has not yet been made a crime. I know –“ His voice faltered. “I know you have cause to be angry with my people, Commander, but surely you cannot hold accountable one so young - “
“We’re not angry, sir,” he said. And that was true. He’d never been angry. The Jedi had fought by their side, fought for their rights, fought to preserve every last man they could. They hadn’t been angry.
He and his brothers hadn’t been anything when they’d turned on their Generals.
And now they were happy to have him back, just like they’d always been.
“We won’t hurt the little general,” he said, since it was true and also what was wanted.
The natborn officer was all but swelling with rage. “That is not for you to decide!” he snapped. “All matters of the Jedi are to be reported directly to Lord Vader, and he will decide the proper method of execution - “
If they reported this, they would lose their Jedi. Lose the last speck of warmth in this darkly frozen galaxy -
“We’re not reporting this,” he said calmly.
The officer turned a red so dark it was almost purple. “We will report it immediately,” he hissed.
Cody shot him.
The General flinched back so hard he hit the wall. The officer crumpled to the ground.
Dead.
“I’m glad to see I’m not the only commanding officer you’ve felt the need to remove from the chain of command,” the General said in a voice a little too distant for the commander’s liking.
His brothers didn’t react at all, except for a few small approving nods at their commander as he dragged the body out of the cell.
They’d take care of anyone else who felt the need to report things.
“I’ve never met a group of people so consistently happy to see me,” the General told him with a bemused smile once, and that was when Cody knew for certain that the Jedi didn’t know, that this was something the Kaminoans came up with on their own.
There seem to be so many things the Kaminoans came up with on their own.
And he could tell him, but he didn’t think he could explain it right, thought the General might just get that look of horror on his face that was already there far too often and that Cody couldn’t bear putting there.
“I’m always happy to see you,” Anakin butt in with, offended, and Cody was grateful for the distraction, because now he didn’t have to answer, he could just bask in having two Generals right there, and General Kenobi’s mouth was twitching as he asked if Anakin was happy to see him that time he returned to their apartments and found Anakin frantically trying to clear up the aftermath of a minor explosion -
And they were safe, and they were happy, and he was watching over them, and for just a moment, Cody felt entirely at peace.
The guard for the cell changed frequently and was perhaps a little more numerous than it strictly needed to be, but it kept the men happy. Nursery duty was an equally popular position, though it was also one with an increasing dilemma: Luke wanted the General, and he expressed that desire loudly, with wails and the Force both, but there was a great deal of concern that once the General knew where the shiny was, he’d finally reveal whatever he’d been plotting – and it was the General, so he was surely plotting something - and escape.
It was a problem.
There were other problems too; sooner or later the Empire would send replacement officers for those lost in the “unfortunate epidemic sweeping the cruiser,” and then they’d have to figure out a more permanent solution.
But in the meantime, he could go to the cell and stand outside the bars and for once not feel the wrongness that seemed to permeate the very air, so it was worth the problems, every one.
They didn’t think about any of that when Order 66 came through because they weren’t thinking about anything. There was no room to think.
After, though.
After, there was a hollow ache in his chest, and it just grew bigger every day, and his hands started to shake, and he didn’t know why. It didn’t matter why.
And it just grew worse and worse.
Order 66 was replaced eventually with something more complex. In that complexity, there was a bit of . . . space.
CC-2224 could start to think a bit again, just enough to realize that he felt like –
He needed a medic.
There was a line. His broth - soldiers let him go to the front of it, but the medic had nothing, nothing, nothing.
Most of the rest of the line got told the same thing.
He started getting reports of men under his command trying drink, trying drugs.
He wondered if it helped.
The General didn’t talk much these days, not even to the commander, but sometimes he broke his silence to ask why.
Why his brothers had slaughtered the younglings at the temple.
Orders.
Why Cody had shot the natborn officer.
He is still Cody to this man, even now. Maybe that’s why. Or maybe it was for the warmth.
What he means by warmth.
And the Jedi still don’t know, and he still can’t tell them. The General has enough to bear without that.
Can he see Luke, please, even just for a moment, just so he can know he’s still alive since he can’t feel him in the Force -
Maybe. Maybe soon. I’m thinking.
Here was the thing about Palpatine which he didn’t learn till later:
He chronically stabbed people in the back. More than was necessary.
He did it to the Kaminoans, and down they went, the next in his deadly game of dominoes, but they had one card left up their sleeves, and they played it.
The chips turned off.
When the chip blew out, for a moment all Cody felt was blinding, nauseating pain.
When he was finished dry heaving, he looked up to see the General pressed to the other side of the bars. “What’s happening?” he demanded.
Cody looked up, and that was when he realized that all the rest of his men in the guardroom were on their knees too. Some of them were still heaving. Some had stopped.
None looked eager to get up off their knees.
He had shot his general.
No warmth in the world was enough for that to feel right.
“Ni ceta,” he said hoarsely. “Ni ceta, ni ceta - ” I kneel, I kneel, I kneel, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I have done what can never be undone, and I still can’t bear to walk away.
The General just looked at him, terrified and so, so wary, and that collar was still on him, and Cody couldn’t bear it for another moment.
“Get the kid,” he ordered his men generally before zeroing in on Boil. “Get Luke. Now.”
If the child was here, and his general was free, he would run, Cody knew. He would leave, and he would probably kill Cody for his sins on his way out, and that would probably be better than to be left to float through this frozen galaxy with nothing left but his guilt.
But any of that was better than letting this go on one moment longer, so he stood with shaking hands and unlocked the cell and unlocked the collar and waited to die.
The General was frozen in place. “Cody,” still Cody, always Cody, even now, “Cody, I don’t understand.”
The whole sad tale came spilling out - from him, from his men - though they had the sense to keep the warmth to themselves.
But the chips. The orders. The erasing of who they were, and what they’d done while erased.
He expected anything but for the General to embrace him.
“You fought it,” his General said. “You fought it as best you could, as soon as you could. You kept Luke alive, all of you, and I am so, so thankful for that.”
It wasn’t enough, he wanted to say. It could never be enough.
But for just one moment, he could let it be.
“What do you think the odds are that we were the only ones who did this?” Bones asked him later, quietly, so as not to disturb the sleeping General.
Cody thought back to some odd reports he only now had the headspace to piece together, and, oh.
He wasn’t sure whether to be horrified or relieved.
When the first furtive call from a brother trying to figure out if he was also free, and also, incidentally, if he had any advice for dealing with a very traumatized Jedi padawan, he couldn’t say he was surprised.
Horrified. Relieved. Suspicious of the other *call waiting* signs on the console. Exasperated that he was going to have to wake up his general.
But not surprised.