Chapter Text
The rumours arrived with the first ships to land after the Battle of Scarif.
At first, Cody didn't pay much attention to them. There were always weird rumours flying around the base he managed, and most of them were exaggerated. It was easy to tell stories about how evil the Empire was, what new weapons they were developing, and what new atrocities they were committing. Parsing out the truth from the wild tales was more effort than Cody was willing to put in those days.
Even though his outpost wasn't particularly large or popular, being the commander of it meant that there was always something to keep him busy.
"Have you heard what they're saying?" Rex asked him as he moved through the base, falling into step beside him. Cody didn't spare him a look, too focused on the datapad in his hands, the list of supplies that had arrived in the last shipment, and the all the mistakes he now had to deal with. He did not need ten times the crates of X-wing parts than he had ordered, and he had no idea where he was supposed to put them.
"It's just rumours, vod," Cody said, too focused to even bother being condescending.
Rex huffed next to him. "I'm not so sure. A fight over an Imperial base isn't the sort of thing that they'd come up with. And a weapon the size of a moon that fires on their own base? No one has that much imagination."
Cody sighed. "Does it matter?" he asked. "We both know there's nothing the Empire won't do." Cody knew that far better than Rex. His vod had escaped early, and had never really experienced what it meant to be a mindless slave for more than a few minutes.
Cody had nearly two decades of memories that still haunted his dreams. He knew very well what the Empire was capable of. A lot of it had been done by his own hands.
For a moment, the corridors disappeared, the sound of blasters and screaming echoing in his ears, blood so thick in the air he could taste it.
Rex's shoulder bumped against his own, bringing Cody back to the present. He didn't say anything about Cody's moment of inattention. They both knew that it would never go away, not completely.
"I'll find out for both of us then," he said. "See if there's any truth to it."
Cody tried to shove him back, but Rex managed to sidestep just in time. "If you've got so much free time, you can help me by cataloguing the supplies." He shoved the datapad at him, looking at him expectantly.
His vod gave a theatrical wince, but accepted it from him, tucking it under one arm. "I can multitask," the man muttered as he walked away.
Cody shook his head. Brothers, he thought to himself, fondness and exasperation warring within him. No matter how old they got, Rex was still his little brother. He suspected they would be acting the same on their deathbeds.
He put the whole thing out of his mind and continued with his duties. Even in the Rebellion, the paperwork never stopped.
Not two hours later, he was shutting down the holotable, his mind reeling. It turned out the rumours weren't exaggerated at all. The Empire had a weapon that could cause destruction on a previously unknown scale. Ships had been lost in the Battle of Scarif, and the cold war they'd been in for decades had finally flared hot, kicking off for real.
The main Yavin base was compromised. The weapon was headed there next. And Cody would have to prepare his base for the influx of the entire Rebellion, those who they managed to evacuate in time.
Cody leaned against the side of the holotable, breathing deeply. This was it. This was the Clone Wars all over again, both sizes going in with numbers and weapons blazing. It wasn't a quiet game of sabotage anymore. And this time, Cody wasn't going to be able to fight. He was too old, his body no longer capable of fighting like that.
But he could still do something. This was his base—his domain. And if the entire Rebellion was about to turn up on his doorstep, then he was about to become so busy he would be lucky to surface long enough to remember to breathe.
So he stood up, and pulled himself together. He had work to do.
The rumours only grew wilder as the ships started to arrive, people flooding into Cody's base. Despite how busy he was trying to prepare his base for the influx, he still managed to overhear the rumours. What he didn't hear for himself, Rex was more than happy to bring to him anyway.
They started wild and only grew more so. Alderaan was gone, a shell-shocked Rebel told Cody as the clone tried to direct him out of the hanger. Blasted into a trillion pieces by the Empire's new weapon. Nothing more than dust and rock where a planet used to be. There had been a dogfight in the space above the old base, and the Rebellion had blown up the new weapon. Some of them even claimed that the Jedi were involved, which Cody knew was made up. There weren't any Jedi left, after all.
Cody didn't believe any of it at first, but the next arrival confirmed it, as did the one right after. The mere thought of it made Cody's heart ache. This was the sort of atrocity that Cody had once fought a war to stop, and it was the Republic corrupted into the Empire that was responsible for it.
He wondered what happened to Bail Organa and his family. The man had been responsible for getting Cody out of the Empire, for his placement at his current base. He was one of the few people in the Rebellion who had known Cody before the Empire. It was likely too much to hope that Organa had been off planet when it was destroyed.
The Alderaanians were now as scarce as the clones. Only those off-world would have survived, and everyone was loath to travel far from home with all the restrictions the Empire had imposed, tightening the noose around all their necks. There were only a handful of clones left after all those years, between the Empire's wars, and the chip in their heads. Maybe as few as the Alderaanians.
He wouldn't wish that on anyone. It was a wound that never healed, aching even now, so many years later. To be alone in the galaxy was a difficult fate, and to not have a home to go back to…
Cody had to put it out of his mind, and stop brooding. There was so much to be done. More and more people were arriving, and someone—namely him—had to wrangle them and make some semblance of order out of the chaos.
Before long, the base was packed. Everywhere Cody went, he was practically tripping over Rebels hanging in the corridors, unable to find rooms. They were bunking four to a room, setting up sleeping mats on the floors. The storage rooms were bursting at the seams and spilling into the corridors, making obstacle courses out of crates.
It was never supposed to have so many people. It was just one of many satellite bases, existing to help expedite supply routes and making sure the Empire could never destroy them all in one go. Now, it was hosting the bulk of the Rebellion, and the impracticality of it would have made Cody tear his hair out if he didn't keep it cropped short.
Hanger space was his current problem. He needed the current ships gone, and Cody didn't care where. If they had to hang around in orbit, so be it. He was expecting a dozen more ships in the next few hours, with critical supplies such as food and medical gear.
Now if only the pilots got the memo.
Only long years of experience stopped Cody from running his hand down his face as yet another pilot tried to convince him that his ship was the exception. "It's not good for it to be in the open air," the pilot kept insisting, his voice growing increasingly shrill. "It needs to be battle-ready at all times! I need—"
"What I need," Cody cut him off, voice level, "is for you to move your ship. You've had three hours to get the necessary servicing done. Now it needs to go, and I don't care where."
"But—"
Cody fixed him with a steely gaze. "Move it, or it will be moved for you."
Finally, the pilot quailed beneath him. Grumbling, they dropped their shoulders and started to amble back to their ship, dragging their feet every step of the way.
Cody shook his head in disgust. Pilots. His brain cell must be lonely. He turned away, not having time to do anything more than trust that the ship would be moved, as instructed.
He wished Rex were still on-base to back him up and stop problems like these from ever becoming problems. Instead, his brother had gone off to manage one of the supply runs, leaving Cody to face the insanity by himself.
Cody glanced down at his datapad, ready for the next problem. Then he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked up to see a harried-looking aide making a beeline straight for him across the hanger, dodging the droids zooming past with cargo.
He sighed. What now? As the aide drew near, he noticed a pilot in a bright orange suit trailing behind them. Cody watched them draw closer, tucking the datapad under one arm and crossing his arms.
There was something familiar about the pilot. He looked incredibly shiny, barely old enough to be allowed in the pilot's seat, with a mop of sandy hair and big blue eyes that kept racing around the hanger.
He reminded Cody of—no. That couldn't be right. The man in his mind was many years dead and gone. But still…
Then a glint of metal at the pilot's hip caught his eye, and Cody's heart nearly stopped dead. That was a lightsaber hanging from the pilot's belt.
Maybe his first instinct wasn't so off the mark after all.
"Commander Cody?" the aide asked the moment they got into earshot. As soon as Cody nodded to confirm his identity, the aide continued speaking, not bothering to wait for a proper introduction.
"This is Luke Skywalker," the aide continued, gesturing at the pilot. Cody was glad his stance hid the way his hands shook at that statement. Instead, he cast another glance over the pilot—the Jedi, re-assessing as the aide continued to speak.
Young, but the right age to be a Padawan. Apparently had already blown up the Death Star—the rumours had been true after all. This was definitely General Skywalker's son, then. It seemed the insane recklessness was hereditary.
And in true GAR form, they'd seen a young Jedi and immediately promoted him to Commander, giving him the newly formed Rogue Squadron. Plus, the aide mentioned off-hand, the kid had only been off-planet for the first time in the past week or two.
Cody remained silent through the aide's spiel. Skywalker kept sneaking glances at him, but was also quiet, shuffling his feet. He reminded Cody of Tano, when she had first been assigned to the 501st, still not sure of her place at her master's side.
The moment the aide stopped to take a breath, Cody cut in. "What's any of this got to do with me?" he asked. "I've got more than enough to deal with right now," he said, jerking his head to indicate the chaos of the hanger.
"He's been assigned to you to get up to speed," the aide said as Skywalker's shoulders dropped further. "You're familiar enough with his kind, I'm told."
It was all Cody could do to stare at the aide, struck temporarily speechless. Did the aide have any idea about the history of the Jedi and the clones? Specifically, how the clones had been used to kill them all off?
Maybe not. The aide was young, like so many in this Rebellion. It was likely ancient history long before they got involved.
"That's Rex's problem, then," he said once he found his tongue. Cody was more than willing to fob this off to his brother, the one who actually had experience with Padawans. "He's the one that specialises in Skywalkers."
At that mention, Skywalker perked right up. He stared at Cody in wonder, mouth opening but not saying anything. It seemed that was news to the young Jedi. Which made a sick sort of sense, considering that Cody hadn't heard word of Skywalker since the Empire rose. It was likely the young General had died in the massacre at the Jedi Temple. He wouldn't have been around to tell the young one stories.
"That's not my instructions," the aide said. "I was given orders by the High Command to bring him to you specifically, Commander. This is Kenobi's apprentice, that makes him your responsibility."
At this, Cody's world stopped.
He hadn't seen Kenobi since—well, not since Utapau. Not since the chip had activated, and he'd tried to hardest to kill the man. The only reason Kenobi had survived was because not even Cody was good enough to kill him.
Cody hadn't been rescued from the Empire until a year or two previously, long after the last known sighting. It was how Cody had known that he had failed in his initial attempt. In true Kenobi style, he had blazed into existence just long enough to fight his way through a city, infiltrate Fort Inquisitorius to rescue a child, and then duel Darth Vader.
No one knew whether he lived or died after that—at least, no one who was talking. But he had lived, apparently, long enough to take a Padawan. His brother Skywalker's child, who didn't have anyone else left to teach him. No wonder no one had heard from Kenobi for so long, Cody thought a little wildly. He'd clearly been busy dealing with the second generation of Skywalkers.
By the time Cody had regained his composure, the aide had disappeared, taking advantage of Cody's reaction. Skywalker was still standing there. The boy managed to look both eager and awkward, oh so typical of the shinies before they had earned their paint.
The aide was smart. Good tactical sense, that one. It was a shame that Cody couldn't keep them. Skywalker, on the other hand…
Well. Apparently, he had a Padawan now, only twenty years late. He would just have to deal.
"Alright," Cody said, uncrossing his arms and running a hand across his face. "So. Skywalker."
"It's just… call me Luke," the kid said, the first time that Cody had heard him speak. His voice had that same Tatooine twang that General Skywalker had never quite lost. At least that gave Cody a fair idea of where his General had been hiding all those years.
Cody really wanted to sigh. But showing weakness in front of the shiny was never a good way to start. He glanced around the hangar, seeing at least three problems that he needed to deal with as soon as possible. Instead, he had the shiny Jedi to deal with.
"Over here," Cody said, turning on his heel and marching to the side of the hanger. Best to stay out of the way until he had dealt with Skywalker. The last thing he needed was to have Skywalker run over by a supply droid.
Skywalker followed obediently at Cody's heels. It was a good sign. Shinies always lasted longer when they listened to what they were told and didn't ask stupid questions.
Cody turned to face Skywalker at the far edge of the hanger. It was quieter, and just out of the way enough that they wouldn't be interrupted by anyone looking for Cody.
"Let's start with a sitrep," he said, then stared at Skywalker expectantly.
Instead of getting the expected report, Skywalker only looked confused. "I don't know what that is."
This time, Cody did sigh. "Situation report, Commander," he said. "Let this be your first lesson, then. Tell me how you ended up with the Rebellion, and leave nothing out." Finally, Cody would get to the truth behind the rumours.
Skywalker continued to look uncertain but began to talk. The story unfolded from him, a little out of order at times, but enough to give Cody a good picture of what exactly had happened.
It was how Cody learned that Kenobi didn't raise Skywalker after all, only watched from a distance. That Skywalker hadn't even known his father had been a Jedi until the Empire came calling, and that the sum total of his Jedi training had been a few hours of deflecting bolts with his father's old lightsaber.
That told Cody two important things. Firstly, of course that would be the first thing that Kenobi would have taught Skywalker—how to protect himself. Secondly, the elder Skywalker was definitely dead if Kenobi now had his lightsaber.
The story only got worse. Skywalker talked about the race to Alderaan and ending up on the Death Star instead. How Kenobi had duelled Darth Vader to give them a chance to escape with the newly rescued Princess in tow.
Except that this time, the duel didn't end in Kenobi's favour. According to Skywalker, Kenobi was still in a bacta tank en route to his base with a hole in his side. He was only ever taken out long enough to be operated on before being put back in, unconscious ever since the Death Star. Skywalker had been left to his own devices, for the Rebellion to figure out what to do with him in his master's absence.
Cody listened to the news. Accepted it. Shoved down everything it made him feel until his breathing became steady again. He couldn't afford to let it break him, the way it threatened to. He still had the base to run, with the entirety of the Rebellion en route.
And he now had Kenobi's Padawan. Skywalker was bright-eyed, naive, and almost bouncing in his eagerness to be helpful. The kid had no idea of the world outside of his dustball of a planet and had been thrust straight into the middle of the galactic war against the Empire. Somehow, Cody had to figure out what to do with him.
"Good work," Cody said, wincing internally at how hoarse his voice came out. He glanced back over at the hanger. The three problems had become five in the time that it took Skywalker to tell his story.
Well, if Skywalker was supposed to become a leader, he might as well start learning by shadowing Cody. Once the rest of the Rebellion had arrived and the Padawan was expected to start running missions, he could figure out the rest.
"You stick with me for now," he told Skywalker. "Watch everything I do. I'll quiz you on it all at the end of the day. Do you have a bunk yet? Supplies?" he then asked with a frown. Skywalker didn't have a bag with him.
The Padawan grimaced. "It's just me," he said, gesturing at himself. "I didn't get to take anything with me when I left Tatooine."
Cody could sympathise with the rush of hurriedly leaving a planet. The difference was that he always had his bunk on the Venators, and never had to worry about whether he would be able to requisition new supplies.
"Bunks are in short supply," he said. "You'll bunk with me. There are no beds left, but you're young, you can take the floor. We'll stop by the quartermaster last thing today to get you fitted out."
Besides, it would make it easier to keep an eye on the Padawan. He didn't dare imagine what trouble a young Skywalker could get into on his base if he were left unsupervised.
Cody took a deep breath, checked that the Padawan was still at his side, and then plunged back into the fray.