Clone Trooper Kix - Blog Posts

A little late to the party. Was hoping to get this out for May the Fourth, but eh, such is life...

Just a continuation of a ridiculous little comic that I made last year and was recently reminded about. Don't mind my scuffed sense of humor, feel free to just keep scrolling. XD

Part #1 - May the Fourth Be With You 2023

Part #2 - Revenge of the Sixth 2023

Part #3 - May the Fourth Be With You 2024:

I posted a new fic!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65094643

It’s an ongoing series containing short (and I mean short) works of my clone OCs. Give it a read!

This is a petition to make Kix have his own show. Each upvote as an agreement with this statement so we can show Dave Filoni that we want a Kix-centric series because everybody loves the prettiest clone in the GAR. We require a series that details Kix’s discovery of the chips, his kidnapping, his experiences as the last vod alive, his time with the Crimson Corsair. WE NEED KIX!!!

My favorite Star Wars characters in no particular order, categorized clone to non-clone; lemme know yours!

Kix

Hound

Fox

Dogma

Echo

Tech

Crosshair

Rex

Howzer

Gregor

Hardcase

Grey

99

Waxer

Boil

Odd Ball

Gearshift

The clone with Gearshift

Numa

Din Djarin/The Mandalorian

Finn/FN-2187

Kanan/Caleb

Ezra

Cal

Plo Koon

Quinlan Vos

Kallus

Jesse: I can explain-

Fives: You get 8 hours of sleep while I get 5?!

Rex: 5 hours? At most I get 3

Cody: wait you guys sleep

Kix in the barracks sensing his teammates lack of self care:

God okay I'm just. So fucking tired. So here's a list of resources to educate yourself on issues within Star Wars. In light of the Bad Batch Finale and the announcement of the second season, it's vital that you educate yourself about the racism and other issues present.

Reminder that you cannot be in the middle. You are either racist or anti-racist. If you do not practice anti-racism and choose to stay "neutral", you are only supporting a system that constantly perpetuates racism and harms people.

And if for some reason, you think I'm overreacting; for some reason, you think I'm sensitive; for some reason, your first instinct is to get defensive and lash out; you really need to do some thinking as to why you want to scream at POC who just want the right to be recognized and seen. Who just want the right to not be erased.

And if you think this is "not good enough" because they're "just blog posts" or whatever - don't bullshit me. Even if I posted a shit ton of scholarly articles you wouldn't have read them anyway if you're coming at me with excuses for why you think the discrimination is okay. These posts are accessible, and well-written, and straight from the lived experiences of the many minorities and the allies that want to amplify their voices. I'm not asking you to take everything at face value. I'm asking you to do your own research and engage in some critical thinking instead of blindly accepting what you're given.

*Disclaimer: while I have read these sources, i read some a while ago and if there's an issue you have with some of them let me know!

(If your post is listed and you want me to take it off the list please dm me and let me know!)

The Bad Batch

#unwhitewashtbb carrd - with extensive resources here that speak about the Māori people, their culture, and the current issues they face. If you care about them, then read these resources and amplify their voices.

Petition to #unwhitewashtbb

Why you're actively supporting racism if you decide not to support anti-racist movements because you "have beef with someone" who's an anti-racist

The importance of speaking about #unwhitewashtbb, from a Polynesian fan (With another post by them!)

How Kanan is whitewashed

Clone Whitewashing #1 - how the SW crew most definitely knows how to animate dark-skinned clones with proper facial features yet chose not to

Clone Whitewashing #2 - with really clear pictures of the whitewashing

Clone Whitewashing #3 - with an extensive Temura Morrison reference sheet

Issues with Echo's design

Reasons why the take that "Omega is light-skinned because she's based on Temura Morrison's sister" and the take that "Polynesian people can be light-skinned too you're just being racist" are absolute shit takes (similar post, #2)

How Fennec Shand is whitewashed - the intricacies of her design

Fixed Fennec Shand design

How Temura Morrison has previously also been whitewashed in SW media

The Clone Wars

Islamophobia in Barriss Offee's portrayal, from a muslim woman.

How Barriss is muslim-coded, from a muslim woman.

The Mandalorian

"Bleaching" Temura Morrison

General Resources Around Star Wars

Orientalism in Star Wars

The Islamic Origins Of The Jedi

Ableism in Star Wars

Sinophobia in Star Wars, from me, a Chinese woman.

Resources about AO3 and racism

POC are not a monolith: why it's not ok to say "light-skinned minorities exist" in response to calls to stop whitewashing

How whitewashing has affected SW as a whole

John Boyega and Racism

Orientalism in SW Music

Feel free to add further resources in reblogs or just send them straight to me and I'll add them!

Oh, and by the way, if you think "it's just fiction you're just overreacting this doesn't hurt anyone": news flash: it sure does.

CBC News: Anti-Asian Racism in the media

Role of Media in anti-asian racism

NPR: Hollywood colorism

How the media fuels anti-black racism

Ways anti-indigenous racism is expressed in media and in other ways

NBC News: Rise in anti-asian racism

Resources on anti-black racism

What I've listed above is only a single drop in a massive ocean. There are so, so many other minority groups who are also suffering that I haven't listed. I haven't even touched on homophobia, on transphobia, and I've barely touched on ableism, not to mention that there's so many other issues out there. I haven't talked about the issues with how the Tuskens are portrayed, or how Watto is portrayed, or how Jar Jar Binks was portrayed, or how Kelly Marie Tran was treated, or how Trace and Rafa Martez were treated, or how the fandom hates Mace Windu, or how Poe's backstory was butchered, or much, much more. If you have more resources, please please please share them in the reblogs. It is impossible to encompass everything in a single post, but we sure as hell can try.

Alright. I've given you the resources. I've given you my time and energy. It's up to you now to educate yourself. It's ok to make mistakes - we're constantly learning and unlearning. It's ok to need to take breaks, and to save this for later because you're tired and the world is going to shit. We are human.

But it's not okay to stay willfully ignorant. It's not okay to constantly try and belittle the trauma and struggles of minorities just because you've been okay living in a system that's built on oppression. Educate yourself.

One more tip: when reblogging or sharing your own resources, flood your tags with everything to do with Star Wars. Flood the Crosshair tag. Flood the Hunter and Omega tag. Flood the tags, because this is relevant to their characters and to the entire saga, and fans need to know.

Including tags of the people I posted resources from under the cut!

@royalhandmaidens @queen-breha-organa @milfcaptainrex @milfchewbacca @bisexualmikisayaka @fixyourwritinghabits @starilicious @jester-mereel @milfbailorgana @cafffine @milfcommandercody @thecyndimistuff @shoulderpads-mcgee2

(If I'm missing a tag and you want to be tagged please let me know!)

Everyone talkin bout how Rex survive the Jedi purge and fought in rebels but no ones talkin bout how Kix and his stubborn angry ass survived all the way to Kylo Ren’s birth and fall to the dark side. My mans was probebly between 40-100 physically when Kylo died. He survived all the Skywalker bullshit and is probebly real salty bout having to deal with it.

“Fives, I need you to go to sleep early tonight” Rex said lowly as he had pulled the bearded man aside. “As you wish, Captain. May I ask why?” “We’re taking the boys on a surprise vacation and I need to count on you to drive us tomorrow” the blonde clone grinned. 

AKA Rex decides to take his boys on a break and plans the whole night for their leave

SONG and GIF Version under the cut

[Song: I Hate Me - Mosimann] GIF Version: 

SW Headcannons

The first time Rex has real, good coffee, he starts crying (happy tears). All the coffee on the ship slowly starts disappearing, and the next day Ahsoka finds him in a storage closet, surrounded by a mountain of coffee rations. She promises not to tell, as long as he shares. They make a pinky-promise on it (because that is totally something the clones would do, no I am not taking questions).

The first close call, though, came when Cody was making a routine inspection on the ship. He passed right by, but with his mom-friend powers he 'sensed' something wrong with one of the storage spaces. Rex has to subtly comm Ahsoka, who's busy with Jedi stuff. He must use the last resort. Fives answers immediately, and doesn't question why his captain wants him to blow something up. It works, and Cody bolts out to find out where the fire came from.

Unfortunately, though, Fives gets curious, and the secret eventually spreads to the entire 501st. Most of them find it amusing, but don't particularly care. But there's a few, like Jesse and Hardcase, who take it to heart. Other battalions begin to notice their coffee rations are disappearing. Nobody ever catches the 501st, because although they're often a hot mess, those boys are terrifying when united for a cause.

Soon, the 501st has turned into an unstoppable menace due to the unhealthy amount of caffeine they're drinking.

The one brother who can never know, though, is Kix. The vod even have to avoid drinking too much before their check-ins, as he might get suspicious about the crazy amounts of caffeine in their bodies. Despite their terrible lying skills, he never finds out. He might even steal from the stash on particularly late shifts (they'll never ask, because Kix is scary. Don't mess with the medic).

They're so overcaffinated that nobody questions it when Fives and Ahsoka disappear for a few days, and Palpatine mysteriously dies. Everybody lives happily ever after, and Senator Amidala makes sure that the clones all get extra coffee rations (Ahsoka too, because she couldn't escape her crazy brother's antics).

Jesse: Okay, help me please! Kix: Got two words for you. Jesse: I bet they won't be helpful. Kix: Your problem. Jesse: I was right

501st Shenanigans -Incorrect Quotes Rex: A mouse!

Jesse, pulling out a knife: Go back to where you came from or I'll stab you.

Hardcase, pulling out a frying pan: It'll make a nice meal!

Kix, giving the mouse cheese: You deserve a treat, little guy.

Echo, gasping: It's Ratatouille!

Fives: His name is Remi, dummy.

Rex: ...I was going to say to just trap it and throw it out the window... what is wrong with you people.

Rex: So, did everyone learn their lesson?

Fives: No.

Echo: I did not.

Hardcase: I may have actually forgotten one.

Kix: Also no.

Jesse: Oh good, neither did I.

Rex: *Exhausted sigh*

Echo: Fives and I have the kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other's-

Fives: Sentences.

Echo: Don't interrupt me.

Fives: If there's going to be a big dramatic scene, wait until I get back.

Echo: Of course. I can't flip this table by myself.

Hardcase: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.

Dogma: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

Fives: Don’t worry, I know exactly what I’m doing. Everything is going to be fine!

Tup: How can you still say that?

Fives: Because sometimes, when things get tough, denial is all we have.

Kix: Sorry it took me so long to bail you out of jail

Jesse: No it’s my fault, I shouldn’t’ve used my one phone call to prank call the police

My latest Clone Wars OC a bit of info on her...

Name: Naika Uwir "Mali"- Post Order 66

Name Meaning: Heroine

Nicknames: Commander Lil' Star/ Lil' Star/Padawan/Kid/ Ka'ra

Age: 12-Pre Clone Wars 13/14- Clone Wars 15- End of Clone Wars

Gender/Pronouns: Female She/Her

Height: 5.3 ft

Species: Miralian

Lightsaber: Curved handle, Lime green color

Skills: Force Abilities, agility, speed, observant

Affiliation: TCWS- Jedi Order/Republic Jedi Padawan to Lyenla Nimu

Personality: Smart, Creative, Headstrong, Loyal, Bold, Out-spoken, Curious, Brave, Adventurous, Sassy, Inquisitive, Compassionate, Reliable, Trust-Worthy, Free-spirited

Jedi Master: Lyenla Nimu OC

Mentors (Aside from her master): Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker/Luminara Unduli, Jocasta Nu, Depa Billaba

Friends (Clone Wars, Bad Batch, and Rebels Era): Ahsoka Tano/Caleb Dume/Barriss Offee/Wish OC/ Kimimela OC/ Zuri OC/Daav OC/Zayan OC/Fives/ Echo/ Flare OC/ Omega/Hunter/ Tech/ Wrecker/ Crosshair/ Rex/ Cody/ Hardcase/ Kix/ Jesse/ Waxer/ Boil/ Most of the 501st and 212th, Hera, Kanan, Zeb, Ezra, Sabine

Enemies: Separatists/Sith/ Empire/ Palpatine

Note: Below is Lyenla Nimu, Naika's master. I posted her picture previously but here it is anyway.

Kix: Yo is Dogma sleeping or dead? Fives: Hopefully dead, I hated his guts. Jesse: Yeah, so did I. Dogma: Okay first of all, fuck you-

No Rest, No Reprieve

Summary: In the aftermath of the final battle of the Clone War on Raxus Prime, Kix struggles against the mental burden and emotional exhaustion inherent to his role as a medic for the 501st. Overwhelmed and exhausted, Kix must find the strength to continue on, for the sake of all his brothers who depend on him.

For Febuwhump 2025 Day 2: Holding Back Tears

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: None

Characters: Kix, Coric, & Jesse (Kix POV/Kix-centric)

Rating: M

Word Count: ~2,400

Warning: CPR, medical scenario, themes of death and burn out

Link is here on ao3 because again tumblr doesn't allow me to direct post the link.

This fic is the sequel to my fic "Hold on to Me", which can be found here on ao3. This will provide some context to some of the situations Kix references during this fic, but both can be read independently.

Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

@tealmisthams and @kotemf, tagging you guys because this is the "Kix the burnt out medic fic" from my WIP list game that you both asked about! It is finally finished, so instead of answering your asks I give you the fic :)

Thank you for the tag @aknightreaderr! I love the passage you posted! Crosshair is adorable lol <3 I can't believe I haven't read this yet, it is now added to the list :)

This is the first passage from a Kix centric fic I may or may not ever post XD I've been working on it for about 6 months now, and I still haven't polished it to the point of posting. Hope y'all enjoy and please let me know if anyone would be interested in reading more!

“Pulse check!” Kix’s voice rang out over the chaotic clamour, firm and strong. The stillness was immediate, as the junior medic pulled back from the chest, panting in exertion from the endless rounds of compressions. The nurse droids stilled, and the monitors remained silent; all eyes were on the patient. Kix’s heart hammered in his chest, a cruel mockery of the dead trooper before him. He waited with bated breath for Coric’s assessment to prove the flat line on the cardiac monitor wrong. It didn’t.

No pressure tags: @tealmisthams, @ladylucksrogue, @acatinwinterfell, @queen-of-mandalore, @melting-houses-of-gold, and anyone else who wants to participate!

First line challenge!

Rules: post the first line of your WIP, the first line you worked on today, or any other “first line!”

Thank you for the tag @babyscilence! <3

This is from an AU, post chip-arc, where the Daughter takes the fate of the galaxy in her own hands and gives Fives a second chance by bringing him back -- only he's now a cadet on Kamino, about to face graduation. What could go wrong? a lot :)

I've got a lot of ideas for this one, so probably I'll rant about it in the future but for now here's the first few pharagraphs :)

The last thing he sees is Rex's face, the teardrop spilling down his cheek and then darkness consumes everything. Fives presses his eyes shut and lets it take over him. I'm sorry Rex. He doesn't feel his limbs, like he's floating. It's alnost...comforting. Sort of. He creaks his eyes open and they widen in surprise as the stars appear. One by one. White and blue, bright and faint. Thousands of them.

Also if it sounds a bit weird, I always write in my first language and kind of just hastily translated this :))

NPTs: I really don't know if you guys did this already, but if you'd like to join: @bladelei, @aknightreaderr

a good clanker is what?

wondering if anyone's a fuckin dork like me and named their pets after a star wars character so reblog this if u have

anyways here's kix :P

Echo had a nightmare about a world where Fives and Rex are the type of clones NOT to check the fallen for signs of life, and he was left behind at the citadel to be captured and turned into a droid.

Good thing that isn’t this world. In this world we listen to music and express our thoughts with those we trust and love.

The practice to draw clones continues! Not pictured: the couple hours of crying as I had to rewatch things like Rex being shot and the Umbara arc in order to figure out what clone under-blacks look like (interestingly there are three versions and I decided I’d combine them). ALSO I promise I have other happy comic ideas 😂 but for now it’s hurt/comfort clone hours. Please enjoy! And stay tuned for more!

Also please note: for the most accurate listening experience on what Fives would sound similar to while singing this, listen to the version of ‘Over the Rainbow’ by Israel Kamakawiwo’ole.

Hello! I had an idea for a Kix x Fem!Reader where she transfers into his medbay but she stands out because she remembers every clones name. Regardless if she hasn’t even met them she has read all the files and committed them to memory and he’s like astonished but also touched. Maybe his brothers are like “if you don’t make a move I will” Hope this is good! Have a good weekend! ♥️

“First‑Name Basis”

Kix x Reader

Hyperspace thrummed beyond the transparisteel ports while Kix tried to tame the Resolute’s perpetually crowded med‑bay. Bacta monitors chimed, troopers squabbled over whose scar looked “coolest,” and Kix’s gloves were still sticky with drying crimson when the hatch whispered open.

A quiet but confident voice announced, “New med‑tech reporting, sir—[Y/N].”

Kix flicked off his gloves, surprised. “You picked a kriffing busy shift to arrive—welcome.”

From the nearest cot, Hardcase crowed, “What d’you bet she faints when she sees my arm?”

You crossed to him without blinking. “CT‑0217 Hardcase—through‑and‑through blaster hit, distal humerus, yesterday. Dermabind’s due for a swap.”

Hardcase shut up so fast Fives snorted.

You pointed down the line:

“CT‑5597 Jesse—rib bruise, de‑pressurised plating on R‑3. Three‑hour ice intervals.

“CT‑5555 Fives—fragment nick, upper thigh; you’ll pretend it doesn’t hurt until it infects.”

“CT‑0000 Dogma—scalp laceration, eight stitches. Stop picking at them.”

Each trooper stared like you’d grown a second head.

Kix folded his arms. “You read our charts?”

“Memorised the battalion manifest on the shuttle. Names separate patients from barcodes.”

A low whistle: Jesse grinned around a pain‑killer stick. “Kix, vod—if you don’t lock that down, I’m escorting her to 79’s myself.”

Fives elbowed him. “Brother, that’s my line.”

Dogma muttered, “Show some discipline.”

“Show some charm,” Fives shot back.

Kix cleared his throat, ears reddening. “Settle, vod. Let the medic work—unless you want a protocol droid doing your stitches.”

⸻

Kix found you re‑stocking kolto packs. “Most rookies need a week to learn nicknames; you quoted service numbers.”

“You’re not rookies—you’re veterans. Acting like it matters.”

His voice softened. “We spend our lives as copies. Remembering us by name… that’s a rare kind of medicine.”

Across the bay, Hardcase bellowed, “Kix! She fixin’ your ego yet?”

Jesse added, “Timer’s ticking, sir!”

You hid a smile. “I still need orientation, Kix. Maybe… a tour of the ‘cultural hub’ I’ve heard about?”

Kix’s grin was pure relief—and a little wonder. “Med‑officer‑ordered R&R, 79’s cantina, 2000. Mandatory.”

Hardcase whooped. “Ha! Called it!”

⸻

Blue and gold holo‑lights flashed off clone armor stacked by the door. Fives tried teaching you a rigged sabacc hand; Jesse heckled from behind; Dogma nursed one drink like it was contraband; Hardcase danced on a tabletop until Rex appeared, helmet tucked under his arm.

Rex eyed the scene, then you. “Heard the new medic can ID every trooper in the Legion.”

“Only the ones who’ve been shot today, sir,” you said, straight‑faced.

Hardcase cheered. Jesse rapped knuckles on the table. Even Rex let a ghost of a smile slip before nodding to Kix: Good find.

Jesse leaned close while Kix ordered drinks. “Take care of him, cyar’ika. Our medic patches everyone but himself.”

You watched Kix laugh, shoulders finally loose for the first time all day. “Count on it,” you said, lifting a glass.

Across the cantina, Hardcase elbowed Fives. “Told you names matter.”

Fives clinked his mug to Jesse’s. “Here’s to finally being more than numbers.”

And—for a few riotous hours beneath 79’s flickering lights—every soldier of the 501st felt like the only trooper in the Grand Army, thanks to one medic who never forgot a name.

501st Material List 💙🦋🛋️🥶

|❤️ = Romantic | 🌶️= smut or smut implied |🏡= platonic |

Overall

- “The Warmth Between Wars”🏡

- “Your What?!"🏡

- “Armour for the Skin” 🏡

- “Hearts of the 501st” ❤️

Arc Trooper Fives

- x bounty hunter reader pt.1❤️

- x bounty hunter reader pt.2 ❤️

- x reader “This Life”❤️

- x reader “Name First, Then Trouble”🌶️

- x Sith!Reader “The Worst Luck”❤️

Captain Rex

- x Jedi Reader❤️

- x Villager Reader ❤️

- x reader “what remains”❤️

- x Sith Assassin Reader “only one target”❤️

- x Reader “Ghosts of the Game”

- x Bounty Hunter Reader “Crossfire” multiple characters ❤️

- x Jedi Reader “War On Two Fronts” multiple parts

- “Smile”❤️

- “501st Confidential (Except it’s Not)” ❤️

Arc Trooper Echo

- x Old Republic Jedi Reader❤️

- x Old Republic Jedi Reader pt.2❤️

- “A Ghost in the Circuit” 🏡❤️

Hardcase

- x medic reader ❤️

Kix

- x Jedi reader “stitches & secrets”❤️

- “First Name Basis” ❤️

Overall Material List

“Crossfire” pt.3

Commander Cody x Reader x Captain Rex

You weren’t supposed to be in the clones barracks.

But you rarely went where you were supposed to.

The corridors were quiet, the hum of the ventilation system steady in your ears. Most of the troopers were off-duty or deployed, leaving the barracks feeling like a ghost shell of itself. You moved like you belonged—fluid, confident, precise. The kind of presence that drew attention and made others question their instincts.

Then—

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The voice stopped you mid-step.

Commander Cody stood in the hallway, brow furrowed, arms crossed. His armor was half-off—pauldrons gone, chest plate open, undersuit exposed to the dim light. He looked tired. Suspicious.

And maddeningly attractive.

You offered him your best smile. “Missed the smell of plastoid and repressed emotions.”

Cody didn’t laugh. He didn’t blink. “Answer the question.”

“I came to see a friend.”

“Name.”

You stepped closer, eyes gleaming. “Commander Cody.”

Cody’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t move. “You vanished. No comms. No explanation.”

“And yet here I am,” you whispered, voice lower now. “Alive. Still on the right side… mostly.”

He stared you down. “You don’t belong in this sector.”

“You gonna arrest me?” you asked, chin tilted up, a faint challenge in your tone.

“I should.”

“But you won’t.”

Silence. Charged and heavy.

He looked at you then—really looked. Not as a mission asset or potential threat. Just… you.

You took a step closer, reaching out and brushing your fingers against the edge of his unarmored shoulder. “You gonna keep pretending you don’t like when I do this?”

He didn’t stop you. Didn’t move.

But he didn’t answer either.

And that said more than enough. You pulled your hand away from Cody slowly, leaving a ghost of heat behind.

“Still pretending?” you asked.

He didn’t answer.

But when you turned to leave, his voice stopped you again.

“Don’t make me choose between you and the Republic.”

You paused.

Then, without looking back: “You might have to.”

⸻

Meanwhile – Jedi Temple, Council Chambers

Master Kit Fisto stood in the center of the room, arms folded behind his back, expression solemn. “She’s not just reckless. She’s evasive. Deceptive. She’s manipulating soldiers. Getting close in ways that compromise their judgment.”

Mace Windu’s eyes were cold steel. “I’ve seen the reports. She shouldn’t have been on Teth in the first place. And then she vanishes with a Force-sensitive child?”

Yoda hummed, tapping his cane. “Proof, you lack. The Chancellor’s word, she has.”

Kit pressed forward. “I watched her outside 79’s. The way she moved. The way she spoke to the clones. She’s not interested in loyalty. She’s interested in influence.”

Obi-Wan, leaning forward, tapped the table gently. “I won’t pretend she isn’t… complicated. But she’s fought beside us. Risked her life for the Republic. There’s more to her than subterfuge.”

“She’s dangerous,” Mace said firmly. “And she has access to our inner circles through the Chancellor. That makes her a risk.”

“Or a tool,” Obi-Wan countered. “If used wisely.”

“A tool for who, I wonder,” Kit muttered.

Yoda’s eyes narrowed, deep in thought.

“The Chancellor’s friend, she is,” he murmured. “But in shadows, much hides. Watch her, we must.”

⸻

The smell of caf hung heavy in the air. Trays clattered, boots thudded, and clone chatter rose in a dull, tired murmur. The war never stopped—but moments like this made it feel like it slowed.

Rex sat at the edge of a table, arms crossed, a half-eaten ration bar forgotten on his tray.

Across from him, Kix, Fives, Jesse, and Tup were deep in a low conversation, and even though they weren’t exactly trying to hide it, the minute Kix glanced Rex’s way, the silence tightened.

He noticed.

“What?” Rex asked flatly, his tone already edged.

Kix looked reluctant. Jesse grimaced. Fives looked entirely too pleased with himself.

Tup leaned forward and said it bluntly: “She was here last night. Sector C-9.”

Rex’s spine straightened. “What?”

“Commander Cody’s floor,” Kix clarified, stirring his caf. “No clearance. No escort. Just… strolled in.”

“Unannounced,” Jesse added, a bit more cautiously. “Didn’t cause trouble, but still. It’s odd.”

“She’s got a pattern,” Tup said. “Getting close to officers. Playing coy. Smiling at everyone like she knows a secret.”

Fives grinned. “I’d let her manipulate me.”

“Of course you would,” Kix muttered.

“She’s a distraction,” Tup continued. “And a dangerous one. What’s she even doing here again? She’s not military.”

“She’s useful,” Jesse countered. “She’s worked with us before. She gets results.”

“She disappears without a trace and comes back with clearance from the Chancellor,” Kix said quietly. “No chain of command, no protocol. It’s off.”

Rex didn’t speak for a moment, staring down at his tray like it held answers.

Then, softly: “Where is she now?”

Fives looked up from his drink, smirking. “Why? Planning on asking Cody?”

Rex stood up without another word.

⸻

You were leaning against the rusted edge of a shipping container in the lower levels, checking a concealed blaster’s sight when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Didn’t know I needed a guard dog,” you said without looking. “Let me guess—Cody ratted me out?”

“You were in the barracks,” Rex said.

You turned to face him, expression unreadable. “I was.”

“Why?”

You met his stare. “Why do you care?”

Rex’s jaw clenched. “Because I don’t know what side you’re playing anymore.”

You gave a soft, humorless laugh. “Does it bother you that I was with Cody? Or that you weren’t the one I came to see?”

He didn’t answer.

“That’s what I thought,” you said, stepping closer. “You liked it better when I was gone.”

“I liked it better when I trusted you.”

The space between you was close now. Tense. Alive.

“I never asked for your trust, Captain,” you whispered. “But you gave it. And now you’re scared you’ll have to take it back.”

He stared at you for a long moment, something unreadable in his eyes. Then he stepped back.

“Stay away from my men,” he said, voice low.

You tilted your head. “Or what?”

“You won’t get another warning.”

Then he turned and left.

You watched him go, pulse steady, mask in place—but somewhere beneath it, something twisted just a little tighter.

⸻

Mace Windu stood before a star chart, arms folded, as Kit Fisto entered and closed the door behind him.

“She’s sowing division among the clones,” Kit said without preamble. “I’m hearing it from troopers. Rumors. Questions.”

“Even Skywalker’s men?”

“Especially them.”

Mace nodded grimly. “She’s destabilizing morale.”

“Yoda still thinks she may serve a purpose.”

“He’s wrong,” Mace said. “The Chancellor’s got her in his pocket. She’s not our ally—she’s his spy.”

“And if she’s in the field again?” Kit asked.

Mace’s eyes narrowed.

“We keep watching. And when she slips—we move.”

⸻

The city outside glowed gold with the rising sun, but inside the Chancellor’s office, everything felt cold and deliberate. You stood still as Chancellor Palpatine circled slowly, hands clasped behind his back, voice smooth as silk.

“There’s a mission,” he said. “One only you can be trusted with.”

She didn’t flinch. “Who’s involved?”

“Master Windu. General Kenobi. Their men. You will join them as my personal attache.”

A pause.

“Officially, you’ll be assisting in clearing the last remnants of a Separatist stronghold on Erobus,” he continued. “Unofficially, there are certain… elements beneath the facility I want destroyed without the Jedi ever knowing they existed. Do you understand?”

She nodded once. “And if they suspect me?”

He gave a soft, chilling smile. “Then perhaps it is time they learned to trust my allies. You will prove yourself invaluable.”

She didn’t like it. She rarely did. But she knew better than to argue.

⸻

The dropship roared through Erobus’s dead sky. Wind carried the smoke of a long-dead battlefield. The reader sat apart from the Jedi and the clones, her gaze fixed out the narrow viewport.

General Kenobi was in quiet conversation with Commander Cody. Windu sat in silence, fingers steepled in meditation. The clones around her — the 212th — watched her like she was an animal in a cage. Not openly hostile. Just… unsure.

She didn’t blame them.

“Never thought we’d see you again,” Cody muttered as he walked past her toward the front. “You just have a habit of showing up where things are about to explode?”

She smirked. “And you have a habit of being too pretty for your own good.”

He raised a brow but kept walking.

Windu had acknowledged her presence with a nod. Kenobi had raised a brow, but said nothing. This time, there was no need to pretend. She was here by Palpatine’s orders—but acting as if she belonged among them.

They moved quickly, carving through what little resistance remained. The reader fought without flourish—blasters precise, movement efficient, lethal. She noticed how Windu watched her more than he watched the enemy. Not with distrust. With… calculation.

The mission moved fast. She fought alongside the Jedi and the troopers, not quite one of them, but not an outsider either. Not anymore.

She planted explosives in corridors no one else entered. Disabled systems no one else noticed. And when Windu asked too many questions, she deflected with just enough truth to keep suspicion from blooming.

She was the perfect tool.

When the fighting ended and the skies were silent again, the group began regrouping for departure.

But Windu stayed behind.

She stood at the edge of the rubble, arms crossed, staring at the still-burning wreckage. Windu approached silently, his presence calm and weighted.

“You were too comfortable in there,” Windu said.

She tilted her head. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“You knew where to strike. What to look for.”

“And?”

His gaze sharpened. “And you’ve done this before.”

She hesitated.

Then said, “I’ve done a lot of things.”

He studied her. Then, in a voice low and almost too calm: “Why do you work for him? Palpatine?”

She didn’t blink. “Because I’m too afraid not to.”

That stunned him — not because she said it, but because of how honest it was.

“You hesitated,” he said simply.

She glanced at him, unbothered. “I’m always hesitant when explosives are involved.”

She exhaled, the smoke curling from the wreckage catching in the light. “The clones… they trust blindly. They don’t see the game being played around them. They deserve better.”

Windu’s voice was low. “So why play the game?”

She was quiet for a moment, then: “Because I’m not brave enough not to.”

Windu stepped closer. “The Chancellor—does he own your fear?”

She met his eyes, finally lowering her hood. “He owns everyone’s fear. I just know better than to pretend otherwise.”

Silence hung heavy between them.

Then Windu said, “You care about them. The clones.”

“I care about them,” she added quietly. “The clones. Maybe that’s the problem.”

Windu was silent for a long time. “Then maybe you’re not the threat we thought you were.”

“But I still am a threat,” she said, soft and sharp.

He didn’t argue. “So is everyone these days.”

They stood side by side, the flames crackling around them. For the first time, Windu didn’t look at her like she was a threat. He looked at her like someone caught between survival and sacrifice—like he understood.

Finally, he said, “Let’s get back.”

As they walked toward the ship, the reader didn’t look back. But deep down, a new kind of fear was blooming—because for the first time, someone from the Council believed in her.

And she didn’t know how long she could keep surviving if that belief ever turned to betrayal.

⸻

The storm had passed, but the sky was still dark.

Republic shuttles hummed, crates clanged, clone troopers barked orders as the camp disassembled around her. The reader stood near the edge of the landing pad, helmet in one hand, half-listening to the static on her comm.

“Classified orders from the Chancellor.” That’s what the officer had said. “Immediate departure. Debrief in person.”

She should’ve walked straight to the shuttle. But she lingered. And he found her.

Cody.

He walked up slow, arms crossed, boots crunching gravel beneath him. His armor was dusted in ash and plasma scarring. She glanced at him but didn’t speak first.

“I figured you’d disappear again,” he said.

“Still might.”

He nodded. “You always do.”

There was no anger in his tone. Just… tired honesty.

She looked up at him fully then. “You don’t trust me.”

“I don’t know what to trust,” he replied, voice low. “You fight beside us. Then vanish. You show up under the Chancellor’s banner with Jedi clearance and secrets you don’t share.”

“I’m doing what I was asked to do.”

“By him.”

She stepped closer. “If I was working against you, you’d already be dead, Cody.”

He didn’t flinch. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean you’re on our side.”

Silence fell between them, heavy as armor.

“I’m not the enemy,” she said finally.

“No,” Cody said, his eyes locked on hers. “But you’re not really one of us either.”

She looked away first. Her jaw clenched, throat dry. “I didn’t come here to explain myself.”

“Didn’t think you did.”

But as she turned to go, his voice followed her — quieter this time, almost uncertain:

“You care about the men. I see that. But whatever it is you’re caught in… don’t let it destroy you.”

She stopped, just for a second. Looked back over her shoulder, the weight of unspoken words between them.

“Too late,” she said.

Then she walked away, boarding the shuttle bound for Coruscant — bound for the Chancellor.

And Cody stood there long after she was gone.

⸻

The doors hissed shut behind her, sealing out the sounds of the city. Inside, the chamber was dim, silent, and airless—more a tomb than an office.

Chancellor Palpatine stood alone by the wide viewport, hands folded behind his back. The galactic skyline stretched endlessly beyond him, golden and glittering, but he never looked at it. His gaze was fixed far beyond, somewhere the reader couldn’t see.

She approached without speaking. She knew better.

After a long pause, he spoke.

“You completed your task on Erobus.”

“Yes.”

“And General Windu now believes you to be… sincere.”

“More or less.”

He turned to face her, that ever-calm expression carved into something unreadable. His voice stayed velvet-smooth.

“And yet I’m hearing troubling things. From the Temple. From officers in the field. About your behavior.”

Her brow lifted. “My behavior?”

“The clones,” he said simply. “Your… fondness for them. Particularly certain commanders.”

A silence settled between them.

He stepped closer.

“They are tools,” he said, tone soft but cold beneath. “Weapons. Instruments of war. Their purpose is clear. Yours is not.”

She straightened slightly. “I care about them.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “A mistake. One that risks unraveling everything I’ve placed you into position to accomplish.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You’ve done enough to sow doubt,” he snapped, his voice a sudden blade. “Among the Jedi. Among the troops. You’re being watched. And unless you want to be removed from this game completely, you will stop.”

He let the silence linger, then added with that familiar, venom-wrapped charm:

“No more flirting. No more attachments. No more secrets from me.”

She met his gaze. “You put me in the middle of this war like I’m a pawn.”

“You’re not a pawn,” he said. “You’re a scalpel. Sharp. Precise. And replaceable, if dulled.”

Her jaw clenched. But she said nothing.

He studied her a moment longer, then turned back to the window.

“You’ll be summoned soon. Another operation. One that cannot afford distraction. Stay focused, my dear. Or next time I will send someone else.”

She left without another word, the cold of the chamber clinging to her bones.

⸻

Sunlight filtered through the vast windows, casting long rays across the silent chamber. The Jedi Council had assembled in full, tension clinging to the space like smoke.

Obi-Wan stood near the center, arms tucked into his robes. Kit Fisto paced with measured steps, green tendrils swaying. Luminary Unduli remained seated but rigid, her eyes dark and sharp. Mace Windu watched all of them, silent but alert.

Chancellor Palpatine stood calmly before them, hands folded, robed in deep crimson. The ever-smiling face of the Republic.

“We have reason to believe she’s gone underground,” Kit said at last, stopping mid-step. “Not just off-world—off-grid. She’s not been seen on Coruscant in days.”

Yoda’s ears lifted slightly. “Certain, are you?”

“She hasn’t reported in to her handler. Even the Chancellor can’t locate her,” Obi-Wan added, glancing at Palpatine.

Palpatine smiled thinly. “She works alone. That’s her strength. She’s unpredictable, yes, but not disloyal.”

“With respect, Chancellor,” Ki-Adi-Mundi interjected, “you yourself said her role was to assist the Jedi and the Senate. If she’s acting without instruction, she may no longer be operating in the Republic’s best interest.”

Palpatine’s smile didn’t falter. “She has always completed her missions. Always served the Republic’s cause—even if her methods were… unconventional.”

“She disappears when it suits her,” Luminary said coolly. “We do not know her true allegiance.”

“Nor her past,” Kit added. “Only that she is dangerous. Charming, yes. Tactical. But too close to too many of our clone officers.”

A silence fell again—this time heavier.

“She has gained the respect of some among us,” Mace finally said. “She confided in me. Her concern for the clones felt genuine.”

“And yet,” Kit said, “she manipulates that very concern to gain access and loyalty. I have seen it.”

Palpatine’s expression darkened slightly. “She has been instrumental in your victories. On Teth. On Erobus. She has risked her life for your cause, and for mine.”

“She serves your purpose, Chancellor,” Luminary said carefully. “But does she serve ours?”

Yoda’s voice cut through the room, quiet and calm. “Much we do not see. Dangerous, it is, to distrust allies too easily. But more dangerous still to trust without clarity.”

Palpatine exhaled slowly, placing his hand over his heart. “When she returns—and she will—you’ll see where her loyalties lie. Until then, I advise patience.”

The Council murmured among themselves. Some nodded. Some frowned. Some, like Kit Fisto and Ki-Adi-Mundi, exchanged long, skeptical glances.

The meeting dissolved soon after, but the air remained heavy with unease.

And somewhere far beyond Coruscant’s towers and temples, the reader moved unseen, far from both Jedi and Chancellor.

⸻

The bar was unusually quiet for a Friday night. Clones leaned against the counter, some still half-dressed from field drills, others fresh from debriefs, beer and synth-whiskey in hand. Laughter echoed in pockets. But the air carried something else too—unease.

Rex sat at a table near the back, helmet on the seat beside him. Cody dropped into the chair opposite, his brow drawn tight. They both had the look of men who’d been chasing shadows.

“She’s not answering her comms,” Rex muttered, swirling the drink in his hand. “Not to me, not to anyone.”

“Chancellor doesn’t know where she is either,” Cody said under his breath. “I checked through back channels. Even her client records went dark.”

Rex leaned back. “This isn’t like her.”

Cody didn’t answer right away. He stared at the tabletop for a beat too long. Then:

“Isn’t it?”

That hit Rex like a shot to the ribs. He sat up straighter. “What are you saying?”

“She’s not one of us, Rex. You know that. She comes and goes. Answers to people we don’t even see. And half the time, she’s in our barracks or our war rooms like she belongs there.”

“She helped us.”

“She also got close to a lot of us. Real close.”

Rex scowled. “You jealous?”

Cody shot him a sharp look. “Don’t be an idiot.”

Jesse dropped into a nearby seat, nursing a bruised jaw and a half-drained bottle. “You two talking about her again?”

“We’re trying to figure out where she is,” Rex said.

“Probably off charming someone new,” Jesse smirked. “Girl like that doesn’t disappear unless she’s got a good reason. Maybe she’s doing something for the Chancellor again.”

“Or for herself,” Cody said darkly.

Fives leaned in from the next table, ever the one to eavesdrop. “I heard she was seen boarding a Separatist freighter.”

“What?” Rex snapped.

“Some civvie transport crew in the outer systems. Said they saw someone matching her description getting on with a kid. Republic IDs, but separatist ship. Weird, right?”

Kix joined them, arms folded. “That’s not all. Some of the 212th are saying she had unrestricted access to classified battle plans. And now she’s vanished. Doesn’t look good.”

“Dangerous woman,” Tup murmured from the side. “Real dangerous. She’s been playing the long game. With us. With the Jedi. Maybe even the Chancellor.”

“She’s not a manipulator,” Rex growled. “She’s not the enemy.”

But his voice wavered for the first time.

Cody looked at him—hard, quiet.

“I want to believe that too, vod. But she didn’t just disappear. She chose to.”

A long silence fell over the table.

In the corner, Fives just smirked. “Hot, though. Definitely hot.”

Everyone groaned.

But beneath the laughter, doubt ran deep.

And in the back of Rex’s mind, a seed had been planted. One he couldn’t shake.

⸻

There was a kind of quiet in hyperspace she never got used to.

It wasn’t silence—ships hummed, wires buzzed, engines thrummed low like a heartbeat. But it was a strange, hollow quiet. The kind that filled the space behind your ribs when you were running from something, but didn’t know what yet.

She leaned back in the pilot’s seat, one leg propped on the console, the other jittering restlessly beneath her. The co-pilot’s chair beside her was tilted back, a blanket bunched across it, and a sleeping kid tucked beneath it—her “asset,” according to the encrypted file the Chancellor had burned into her comms a month ago.

Force-sensitive. About eight. Big eyes. Too quiet.

The kind of quiet that made her nervous.

She hadn’t given him a name. He hadn’t offered one.

He just followed her like a shadow, never crying, never resisting. He watched her like he was trying to memorize her—every twitch of her fingers, every sigh she let slip when she thought he wasn’t listening. Sometimes, she felt like he was the one babysitting her.

It should’ve made her skin crawl. Instead, it just… got under it. Slipped in sideways. Left a permanent chill.

She was supposed to wait for new instructions. No contact. No Republic. Not even the Chancellor wanted her sending outbound transmissions.

“Too risky,” he’d said. “Stay buried. Until I call for you.”

That was fine.

She didn’t want to hear from him. Not after what he’d made her do.

So she flew. Drifted between systems, one jump ahead of suspicion. Took the kid to Felucia—quiet jungles, strange colors. Then to Naboo. Then to Kashyyyk. The Wookiees didn’t talk much, and when they did, they didn’t ask questions. She liked that.

The kid liked it too.

He smiled when the wind hit his face, laughed when the vines swung low enough for him to climb. He meditated with the elders under the great trees, palms flat, eyes closed, lips moving in languages he didn’t know.

She didn’t know what to do with him.

She could fight men twice her size, break into a warship, and disappear from Coruscant’s grid in under five minutes—but kids?

Force-sensitive, fragile, unpredictable kids?

Not her forte.

Still, she bought him warm food when he was hungry. Sat with him when the nights were too loud. Pulled the blanket up over him when he nodded off mid-jump.

And he… trusted her.

Gods help him.

And Then.

The transmission came mid-jump. An old code. Buried deep.

She opened it. Expected orders. Coordinates. Updates.

Instead, she got this:

“Terminate the asset.”

Just that.

No signature. No voice message. Just those three words in bloodless text.

She sat still for a long time, the cockpit lights casting pale gold across her features.

No.

Her hand hovered over the console. She could delete it. Pretend she never saw it.

Or… she could do exactly what he said.

She looked at the boy—still sleeping, thumb tucked near his mouth, his little body curled like a comma in the co-pilot’s seat.

He trusted her. Even after everything. Even knowing nothing.

And she—

She didn’t know how to kill him.

She didn’t want to.

Her fingers slowly lowered.

She encrypted the message. Buried it. Then cut off all outbound comms completely. Even the backup ones Palpatine thought she didn’t know he’d installed.

And for the first time since she agreed to this job, she felt something like resolve settle in her chest.

She wasn’t going to kill the kid.

Not for Palpatine. Not for anyone.

She’d disappear again. Go dark. Real dark.

And figure it out on her own.

⸻

Three months later and the smell of dirt never really left her hands.

Didn’t matter how long she scrubbed them, how hot the water was, how much Wookiee soap she used—the scent was baked in now. Like soot after fire. Like blood under your nails.

The kid was currently chasing a flock of half-feral featherbeasts across the field, shrieking with laughter while they squawked and ran in all directions like headless idiots. He’d tied one of her spare bandanas around his head and called himself “The King of Beaks.” She wasn’t sure if it was a game or a cult.

She squinted up at the twin suns and groaned, wiping sweat from her brow with a dirt-stained sleeve.

“This was a mistake.”

The house—if you could call it that—was lopsided and half-sunken into the earth like it had given up on being vertical. The roof leaked when it rained, which was often. The windows were warped. There was a trapdoor in the pantry she hadn’t opened yet because, frankly, she was afraid of what lived down there.

They’d been here for three months.

Three whole, uninterrupted months of staying hidden, staying off-grid, and pretending to be something other than what they were: a wanted merc with blood on her hands, and a stolen Force-sensitive child the Chancellor wanted dead.

The farm had been unoccupied when they arrived. Or rather, she’d made it unoccupied.

The farmer hadn’t been too keen on visitors, and even less keen on handing over his property to a stranger with a shifty smile and a blaster behind her back. But things got violent, as they do. He tried to gut her with a farming tool. She shot him in the throat. It was a short negotiation.

The kid never asked where the farmer went. He just helped her drag the body into the woods and asked if they could keep the loth-cat that came with the barn.

She said yes. It bit her the next day.

She’d done a lot of things in her life.

Assassinations. Espionage. Slicing into blacksite servers, seducing corrupt senators, starting bar fights, finishing wars.

But nothing had prepared her for running a farm.

Nothing.

The equipment was older than some planets she’d been to. The power converters buzzed at night like they were haunted. One of the water tanks screamed every time you flushed the toilet. The crops didn’t grow right, mostly because she forgot to plant them in any kind of order. She tried eating something she thought was edible last week and spent two hours curled up next to the loth-cat vomiting and hallucinating moisture ghosts.

She was not thriving.

But the kid was.

He’d put on weight. Color came back into his cheeks. He laughed now. Asked her questions about the stars. Sat cross-legged on the porch with his eyes closed, humming softly, moving stones with his mind and smiling like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She watched him from the porch sometimes.

And felt something awful bloom behind her ribs.

Attachment, she thought. Stupid.

Later that night, they sat under the stars on the porch steps, sipping warm synth-milk and watching the night bugs dance in the grass.

“You ever think about going back?” he asked, voice soft.

She didn’t look at him.

“Back where?”

He shrugged. “Where people are.”

She sighed, tilting her head back to look at the sky. The stars looked close tonight. Like she could pick one and climb inside it.

“I’ve never been great with people.”

“You like me.”

“…You’re barely people.”

He giggled, and she smirked. Then, after a pause—

“Do you think they’re still looking for us?” he asked.

The smile faded from her lips.

She didn’t have the heart to tell him yes.

That some of them never stopped.

She reached over and ruffled his hair instead. “We’ll be alright.”

For now.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Stitches and Secrets”

Kix x Jedi Reader

Warnings: injury

The smell of caf, oil, and clone armor clung to the air as you strolled into the briefing tent, half a pastry in your hand and absolutely no shame in your step. Anakin was already leaning over the holotable with Ahsoka at his side, mid-conversation with Rex about insertion points and droid resistance.

“There she is,” Anakin said, smirking as you bit into your breakfast. “Glad you could make it. We were all really worried you might be doing something important, like sleeping in.”

You gave him an exaggerated bow, crumbs falling from your lips. “The Force told me to take five. Who am I to argue with destiny?”

Ahsoka laughed. “She’s worse than you, Master.”

“I’m standing right here,” Anakin said dryly.

“And I’m complimenting you,” you shot back, tossing the last of your pastry into your mouth. “You’re rubbing off on me, Skywalker. I’m starting to think I’m unfit for Jedi Council politics.”

“That makes two of us,” Anakin muttered.

Rex cleared his throat gently. “Briefing, General?”

“Right,” Anakin said. “Serious faces. Tactical minds. Let’s go.”

You stood beside Ahsoka, arms crossed, watching the blue holographic map flicker into life. The target: a droid manufacturing facility buried beneath a city block on this dusty, nowhere Separatist planet. Classic war story setup—deep insertion, sabotage, get-out-before-the-ceiling-caves-in sort of plan.

Anakin pointed to three key locations. “Ahsoka, you’ll take your Squad through the northern tunnel system. I’ll come in from the west. You,” he glanced at you, “get to lead Torrent Company. Rex is heading point. Kix is your field medic.”

“Excellent,” you said brightly. “If I get blown up, I know exactly whose name to scream out.” And winked at Kix.

Kix, who’d been standing with perfect form behind Rex, blinked and glanced your way.

“Don’t flatter him,” Anakin said, grinning. “It goes to his head.”

“I think he deserves it,” you said with a shrug.

“Force help us,” Ahsoka muttered with a smile.

Kix said nothing, but you knew he heard it. The corner of his mouth twitched. Just a little.

Anakin resumed the plan rundown. “Once we’ve cleared the tunnel entrance, regroup at the main lift shaft, plant the charges, and extract. Simple. Clean. Hopefully fast.”

“Hopefully,” you echoed. “But if it isn’t, I call dibs on the most dramatic death scene.”

“No one’s dying,” Rex said, exasperated.

You leaned toward Ahsoka and whispered, “He’s no fun at all.”

⸻

Things went sideways by hour three.

The drop had gone smoothly. Your team slipped through the tunnel entrance with minimal resistance. You moved like water through the dark—saber humming, the Force buzzing at your fingertips, and Kix never more than a few meters behind.

The issue? Droid reinforcements. Heavier than expected. A trap inside the sublevels. When the floor collapsed under you and half your squad, you barely had time to throw up a Force shield before the shrapnel cut through you like knives.

You hit the ground hard. Your saber skidded away, and a jagged spike of pain tore through your side.

“General!” Kix’s voice came sharp and clear, echoing through the smoke.

You coughed, tried to sit up, and gasped. Your hand came away red.

Kix dropped beside you in seconds, already snapping open his medkit. His gloves were steady. His jaw was clenched. “You’re lucky it missed your vital organs.”

“Define lucky,” you rasped.

“Alive.”

“You’re sweet,” you mumbled, swaying slightly.

“Try not to pass out,” he said, voice tight as he pressed a bacta patch over the worst of the wound. “You need to stay awake.”

“Trying,” you slurred. “But you’re very distracting.”

He blinked down at you. “What?”

“Your eyes. They’re the worst. Too blue. And your voice is soothing. It’s unfair. You should come with a warning label.”

You felt his hands pause for a fraction of a second.

“Considering you can’t see my eyes, and the fact they are brown not blue. You’re delirious,” he muttered, but you could hear the faintest crack of a smile in his voice.

“I am not,” you insisted, blinking up at him. “In the past 3 minutes I’ve thought about kissing you like, five times. Maybe six. Who knows. Jedi don’t count those things.”

Kix worked in silence for a moment, patching you up, checking your pulse, muttering about shock and bacta levels. You didn’t stop talking.

“You always there for them,” you murmured. “Always patient. Always there. And you never say anything. But I can see it. I see you. You’re kind, Kix. Gentle. That’s rare in this war.”

Kix looked at you then. Really looked. And something in his eyes softened—like a thaw he hadn’t allowed himself before.

“I’m not gentle,” he said quietly. “I’m trained to fix people. That’s all.”

“You’ve certainly fixed me,” you whispered.

He didn’t respond to that. He just pulled you close enough to hoist you into his arms, careful not to jostle your wounds.

“Rex, I’ve got the general. She’s stable but needs evac,” he said into the comm, already moving.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, groggy and fading. “You smell like antiseptic and courage.”

“You’re gonna be so embarrassed when you wake up.”

“I’m already embarrassed. I haven’t kissed you yet.”

Kix let out a breath that might’ve been a laugh—or maybe something softer. “Maybe next time, starlight. When you’re not bleeding out.”

⸻

You woke up in the medbay. Groggy. Alive. Sore as hell.

The lights were dimmed, and someone was sitting beside you, back straight, arms crossed. Kix.

“You stayed,” you rasped.

He glanced at you. “I wanted to see if you’d survive.”

“And…?”

His voice was quiet, but firm. “I’m glad you did.”

There was a long pause. Then, with a smirk:

“So, did you mean any of it?” he asked. “The eyes. The courage. The part about kissing me?”

You smiled, exhausted but warm all over.

“Oh yeah. Every word.”

Kix leaned forward slowly, carefully, one hand brushing your cheek.

“Then let’s see if you’re a better kisser than a patient.”

You definitely were.

⸻

You’d barely been discharged from the medbay when Skywalker and Ahsoka appeared at your door like vultures circling a wounded animal.

“Well, well, well,” Anakin drawled, arms crossed and grin far too smug. “Look who decided to flirt her way through a near-death experience.”

Ahsoka stood beside him, trying and failing to look serious. “Rex told us everything. Said you were practically writing a love poem while bleeding out.”

You groaned, covering your face with one hand. “Does no one in this battalion understand the concept of privacy?”

“Not when the drama’s this good,” Ahsoka said, plopping herself at the foot of your bed. “I mean, you told Kix he smells like courage. Who says that?”

“It was the blood loss talking.”

Anakin raised a brow. “You also apparently told him his eyes were ‘too blue.’ That doesn’t even make sense. Too blue? His eyes are brown!”

“Must’ve been the armor” you snapped, gesturing vaguely toward the corridor. “It’s aggravating. Like being judged by a beach.”

They both burst out laughing.

“Stars,” Ahsoka wheezed, wiping her eyes. “You’re lucky Master Yoda wasn’t in the room. You’d be Force-grounded for breaking the code.”

Anakin wiggled his brows. “Technically, I’m not allowed to judge.”

You shot him a look. “Please. You’re the last person who gets to bring up the Jedi Code.”

He didn’t deny it.

“Anyway,” Ahsoka said, sitting up straighter with a sly smile. “What we want to know is: did you get the kiss?”

You gave them both a very satisfied, very smug smile.

“I did.”

Silence.

Anakin blinked. “Wait. What?”

“You kissed Kix?” Ahsoka practically squealed, grabbing your arm. “When?”

“In the medbay. Post-stitches. Very romantic. Smelled like disinfectant and trauma bonding.”

Anakin shook his head in mock disbelief. “Force help us. You’re worse than I am.”

“I know,” you said with a smirk. “And unlike you, I don’t pretend to be subtle.”

Ahsoka howled with laughter.

Outside, you could’ve sworn you heard clone boots squeaking away from the medbay window. Probably Jesse or Fives listening in. Again.

“You’re never gonna live this down,” Anakin said, grinning wide.

You leaned back, smug and satisfied. “I don’t plan to.”

⸻

Fives and Jesse stumbled into the barracks like two kids who’d just found contraband candy in the Temple. Breathless, grinning, eyes wide with glee.

“Kix,” Jesse gasped, skidding to a stop in front of the medic’s bunk. “Tell me it’s true.”

Kix looked up from cleaning his kit, brow raised. “Tell you what’s true?”

“Oh, don’t play innocent,” Fives said, practically vibrating with energy. “We heard it. Straight from her own mouth.”

“She kissed you!” Jesse blurted. “Right in the medbay!”

Kix blinked once. “You were eavesdropping?”

Fives held up a hand. “Strategically positioned for morale updates.”

“You mean you pressed your faces to the window like nosey cadets,” Kix muttered, already regretting every life choice that led him here.

Fives flopped onto a bunk like he’d just been awarded a medal. “Kissing a Jedi… while she was still half-dead. That’s next-level.”

“She called you a ‘war angel in plastoid,’” Jesse said with a grin. “That’s poetry, Kix. Pure poetry.”

Kix groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I was saving her life.”

“Yeah, and then saving her lips,” Fives added.

Jesse smacked his arm. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Doesn’t have to,” Fives said proudly. “It’s romance.”

Kix opened his mouth to fire back—but then the door slid open, and in walked Rex.

“Why are you two shouting like regs on a first patrol—” He paused mid-sentence, eyes narrowing at the scene. Fives smirking. Jesse grinning. Kix looking like he wanted to dissolve into bacta.

Rex raised a brow. “Am I walking into a war crime or a love story?”

Jesse pointed at Kix. “Our boy kissed the General.”

Rex blinked. Once. Then twice.

Then, completely deadpan, he said, “About time.”

Kix’s jaw dropped. “Rex!”

Fives lost it. “I knew you knew! I knew it!”

Rex crossed his arms, smiling just enough to twist the knife. “She’s been making eyes at him the whole campaign. Whole battalion’s been waiting for someone to make a move. Just didn’t expect it to happen during triage.”

Jesse gasped. “You knew and didn’t tell us?!”

Rex shrugged. “Didn’t want to ruin the suspense.”

Fives snorted. “Cold, Rex. Cold.”

Kix looked like he was seriously considering injecting himself with a sedative. “I hate all of you.”

Rex clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll live, lover boy.”

Jesse wheezed.

“Alright, alright,” Rex said finally, stepping back toward the door. “Joke time’s over. Back to your posts before I have you cleaning carbon scoring with your tongues.”

Fives groaned. “He always ruins the fun.”

Jesse saluted with a grin. “On it, Captain Matchmaker.”

They left laughing, boots thudding down the corridor, and Kix sat in the silence for a moment, staring down at his gloves.

Then, quietly, under his breath:

“…War angel in plastoid?”

He smiled. Just a little.