The Wolf Pack

Chapter 24

I really needed to stop getting injured on the battlefield, eating med bay food was getting a little old. That, and Master Plo had threatened to bench me unless I learned some self-preservation. I couldn't really argue with him on that point, I did have a tendency to put myself in harm's way to spare others, the thing is, that if I was getting injured this often it was because I was risking myself the way clones did on a regular basis. If they thought I was getting injured a lot, it was because clones were getting killed a lot. That didn't erase the fact that I probably had a savior complex and needed therapy, but that was beside the point. At the end of the day, it was all worth it. I didn't do these things for the clone's gratefulness or recognition, but it felt nice all the same. The best part of doing what I did was seeing the injured clones I saved being released from medical care. That was what kept me going.

Different battalions had different ways of showing loyalty, affection and gratefulness, I came to realize. The Pack made sure to integrate you to the force, welcome you in with open arms and regard you as a full fledged member of the family. The 501st was a little more clumsy in their approach, they refused to call you anything but the title they'd chosen for you and on rare occasions saluted you or even patted your shoulder or back.

The 212th on the other hand, were the kind of men that returned the favor silently. Just like their general, they were better at showing rather than telling, which is why T.H Boil and Waxer were assigned to be my official wingmen. And by wingman I mean shadows. It had been a unanimous decision of the three after the skirmish on Naboo. They had approached Commander Cody, and then General Kenobi with the idea. If I was going to put myself in so much danger for their sake, the least they could do was make sure I didn't get myself killed in the process, they said. Master Kenobi found the wording very amusing. He agreed to it because it would give him a little peace of mind since it would be harder for me to get killed with people actively trying to stop me from doing so.

A little peace of mind and a ton less anxiety. But he never said that, of course. Obi-Wan Kenobi would be dead before he told anyone a situation made him have feelings, but I had grown amongst the sand people and then lived with the Kel Dor. I knew stoic when I saw it, and I had learned how to read it. Master Kenobi was a lot easier to read than he thought, one just had to look at his actions rather than his words. There was a reason he had perfected sarcasm and made it into an art form, there was a reason for him to grow silent when things got rough. Obi-Wan Kenobi was many things, cold was not one of them.

I did also realize I would have to be more careful though. Severe injuries would be quite detrimental to my health in the long run, and I still wanted to be able to protect people once the war ended. But in order to do so, I would have to survive that long first. The thought of the war ending seemed incredibly far-fetched at the moment. Conflicts were starting in all corners of the galaxy, those that were already in motion continued to escalate, and the GAR's troops continued to be stretched even more thinly. The kaminoans were working overtime to provide fresh troops to aid the overworked ones and Jedi were being Knighted left and right to make up for the lack thereof in the battlefield. Things were complicated, and they would get even worse long before the war came to an end.

But there was no use in thinking about the future, I had to make sure to be present in the moment or I ran the risk of making mistakes I would surely regret. For now, I had to rest and recoup as best as I could and start preparing for our next assault on Felucia. We would be working alongside the 501st once again, and there was much work to do still. We had two battalions to coordinate, a patrol to organize and a planet to take. Even if battles often forced one to throw the plan out the window, it paid well to be prepared.

During my time in the med bay, I'd gotten into the habit of calling The Pack. It was usually Art who had the holo transmitter and passed it around the barracks whenever we spoke. I hadn't realized just how much I missed them until I was put on bed rest for an entire week after Naboo and there had been no one with me. No Art to tease me for being reckless, no Headfirst to punch my arm for being stupid, no annoyed Twitch to grumble about my savior complex. There was no Wolffe either to be angry at me in that quiet, exasperated way of his, no pat on the shoulder.