Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There was a rumor floating around the GAR. 

No one knew where it had come from. They could not affirm its validity, but neither could they contest it. Whether the rumor was founded in truth or fiction, the clones of the Grand Army of the Republic wouldn’t have thought to question something so banal and trivial to their daily existence. It was simply a fact, a detail to ruminate on for no more than five minutes before shrugging one’s shoulders and moving on. They couldn’t do anything about it if they wanted to. This was as much a part of them as their carefully sculpted genetic code, from their height and eye color right down to the shape of their identical noses. 

Clones of Jango Fett were notoriously sterile, and it was that tiny fact coded into their DNA which made them that much less human in the eyes of the galaxy. 

Not that any of the clones were thinking about settling down with a family anytime soon. Bred for war, that was the entirety of their existence. But there were a few, in the dark silence of the barracks late at night or the loneliness of an empty ‘fresher, that dared to think beyond their mere survival of this clone war. Those that did found themselves sobered by the reality that their fates had been decided for them before they had even been decanted. The Kaminoans had taken from them the ability to want more, to build a future and a family and a legacy. To steal even half a lifetime of normalcy. 

Bound by duty, bound by DNA. It was all they would ever be. 

No clone was more acutely aware of their duty than those in command. They had all wrestled with their individuality at one time or another, but had always come back to one undeniable truth: they were clones. Their purpose was this clone war, these men under their command, and the victory of the Republic. Of course, there were whispers of indiscretion, the kind that couldn’t be spoken of unless one wanted to face a court-martial. 

Commander Cody spent an awful long time in General Kenobi’s quarters last night. Captain Rex and General Skywalker seem… close. Rumor’s out that Commander Fox has a secret lover, haven’t you heard?

Everybody knows about Commander Bly’s moon-sized crush on General Secura. 

The thing about rumors in the GAR was that there was always some truth to them. Sometimes, nothing more than a morsel; other times, a mountain. That was what was so tricky about the truth. It was as inevitable as the galaxy’s end, and it could never be shrouded in secrecy for long. 

***

The spark that ignited between Clone Commander Bly and Jedi General Aayla Secura was not an accident, nor was the first time they fell into bed together. In the beginning, intimacy came in the form of hands brushing under the table, chaste kisses shared between briefings, and late nights just holding each other and savoring the company of another living person. Starved of touch and affection, they sought each other like two beacons of light destined to meet. The galaxy seemed so wide and so deep and so lonely when one spent this much time amongst the stars. The need to feel grounded was natural. 

Bly had never had a home. Kamino was so distant, so white and sterile and blank. It spoke of rigid conformity and emotionless duty. It had little patience for yearning young men with aching hearts. When he fell into bed with his General, Bly understood for the first time why he had been so drawn to her from the beginning. Aayla was security, and comfort, and love. She was home. 

Aayla, for her part, had never been so tenderly held and caressed before she met Bly. They would spend hours in each other’s embrace, and he would cradle her in his arms like she was something precious. Aayla was used to filling the role of Jedi Knight, respected General, and fierce warrior. She had forgotten what it felt like just to be Aayla. Bly reminded her of who she was and who she truly wanted to be. 

Physical intimacy was a natural extension of their time together. The stress relief alone was worth it to find time together even after a long day of meetings or a seemingly endless campaign. Now, three months into this thing they had between them, Aayla and Bly fell into familiar habits. Their much-needed leave was coming up soon, and there was no better time to indulge themselves. 

“Bly.” Aayla giggled softly in his ear as he stretched out, slow and languid, covering her body with his own. “You’re heavy.”

Tiny, loving kisses peppered Aayla’s neck. Bly’s barely-there stubble tickled her skin as his lips moved down, caressing her from her jaw all the way to her collarbone. He was as gentle as could be, as both of them were acutely aware that leaving behind marks or bruises could spell more trouble than it was worth. “Just enjoying the moment.”

“Come here.” Aayla shifted, turning so Bly had no choice but to lay down next to her, and then gathered his lax body into her arms. “That’s better, hm?”

“Mm. Yes,” Bly murmured. Aayla watched as his eyes fluttered closed and his head came to rest on her bare shoulder. This was her favorite part of intimacy with Bly. There was always a moment right after, when they both floated on a high of endorphins, that they could give themselves over completely to each other. There was no one else they could be this vulnerable around. 

Aayla’s hand drifted down Bly’s back, absentmindedly following the golden lines that ran from his neck down to the top of his ass. A pleased rumble left Bly’s chest, so she did it again, scratching her fingernails against his sensitive skin. He was so beautiful like this. Her strong, sensible commander, reduced to putty underneath her hands. It was intoxicating. 

“Are you feeling better now?” Aayla asked, ducking down to press their foreheads together. “You seemed so tense last I saw you.”

“Don’t worry. I think you’ve fixed that.” Bly exhaled into the warmth between them. When he opened his eyes again, there she was, and he couldn’t help but soften. “I’m going to miss this.”

Aayla’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Miss it when? The campaign is over. We’ve earned an entire week of leave.”

“Exactly,” Bly replied. “A week of leave means a week away from each other. You’ll stay at the Jedi Temple, and I’ll most likely spend it with my brothers.” 

“Are you not excited to see them?” Aayla asked, amused, and Bly huffed out a laugh. 

“Of course I am. It’s been months since I’ve seen Fox. I just got word that the end of our leave will overlap with Wolffe’s, and Cody is on Coruscant for business. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been able to spend time with all of my brothers like this.”

“But…”

“But.” Bly’s eyes traveled down, drinking in the sight of her, before they flicked up to meet her gaze. “Part of me thinks once we reach Coruscant, our duty will outweigh whatever it is we’ve built between us and we’ll lose this.”

“Oh, Bly.” Aayla’s hand came up to cup Bly’s cheek, and he gratefully melted into her touch. “I’ve wrestled with the same thoughts and feelings you have, but I’ve always come back to one thing. I care deeply about you. Time apart won’t change that. I know it won’t change how you feel about me either.”

Bly turned his head and pressed a kiss into her palm. “No. It won’t. That’s what scares me the most.”

At any given moment, their future was uncertain. Neither of them were under any delusion that their survival could be attributed to anything but luck. Yet, it was not dying that Bly feared the most. It was surviving this war and living without Aayla, without the woman he had come to call home, and the only person who made his meager life seem worthwhile. 

“I can’t say what will happen in the future,” Aayla said honestly. “But I can say that I will always cherish our moments together. Even if they are limited.”

A small, bitter smile twitched at the corners of Bly’s mouth. “Make no promises in war. I understand.”

“This is how it must be.” Aayla pressed a sweet kiss to Bly’s lips before settling down with her head on their shared pillow. “I’d rather spend this time appreciating what we have than lamenting an uncertain future.”

“Right.” Bly turned onto his back and let his head fall against the pillow. When he looked past her, all he could see was stars through the porthole. Glittering, lovely nothingness. The same feeling expanded in his chest until he couldn’t bear it anymore, and then he looked away. 

“It’ll be nice to see my brothers again.”

“Of course. I’ll visit with Master Kenobi and Master Windu, I’m sure. And if the 104th is on Coruscant, I’d quite like to see Master Koon again; it’s been ages…”

The port call on Coruscant was a welcome reprieve for the men of the 327th Star Corps. As eager as they were to begin their leave with too many rounds of ale to count and partying raucous enough to get at least a dozen of them arrested, there was still plenty to do before the transports could take them down. Bly headed the leave organization efforts himself, partly to take the strain off his men, and partly to ensure it was done properly. Leave schedules were drawn up, transport checks were conducted, and all the men were read the list of leave rules and regulations for the hundredth time. Bly was just as tired of giving this speech as they were of hearing it. He’d be fishing a few of them out of Coruscant’s gutters in a few days’ time anyway, so he hardly saw the use. He could only hope he got to them before the Corrie boys did. He hated the way those smug bastards would smirk when he came to retrieve the sorrowful, hungover bunch. The smug bastard Bly called his batchmate was always the worst. 

When the hour came to send the boys off, Bly waited in the hangar to watch each transport depart. It wasn’t until the last ship was in the air that he requested his own transport down, intending to visit Fox at the barracks before they headed out for drinks. Cody would join them later. It was supposed to be a quiet night for the three of them to catch up, though with all the partying that would be going on around them, it was likely they would have more than a few pints of ale. 

With one foot on the ship, Bly paused. A strange feeling had suddenly overtaken him. Willing that thought away, he shook his head to clear it and boarded. He was being silly. There was no reason to be worried. It wasn’t until they were in the air that Bly glanced to the side and realized the pit in his stomach was due to the odd loneliness of the empty Aayla-shaped space at his right hand side. That same emptiness had been eating at him since their night together, and it would soon overwhelm him if he didn’t find some way to shake it off. 

Mentally, Bly revised his plans for the night as the transport shook beneath his feet and rose into the air. He could rope Fox into doing shots with him if Cody would too. This was a night to forget. If Bly was still coherent by the end of it, he wouldn’t be satisfied. 

Aayla stepped foot into the hangar just a few minutes after Bly’s departure. She had intended to see him off, but all that remained of him was a spec in the sky. A curt nod masked her disappointment from the transport pilot as she boarded her own ship. 

“Thank you, Gunner. Take me to the Jedi Temple, please.” 

As soon as the Temple came into view, Aayla let out a small breath that she hadn’t realized she had been holding at all. This place had always been a sanctuary for her, a haven of wisdom and peace and safety. Between the walls of the Temple, Aayla could take the time to collect herself and sort through the complicated swirl of emotions that had plagued her lately. Mentally, she had been feeling confused and out of sorts for several weeks, but the stress had taken its toll on her physically as well. Nausea, fatigue, and headaches had become more and more frequent as the campaign dragged on. Aayla would gratefully accept rest now. 

Aayla’s first stop was her quarters. On her way there, she eagerly greeted several Knights, Padawans, and Masters she knew by name. Even the ones she didn’t know personally received a pleasant smile and a hearty hello. It was all she could offer for now. Aayla was feeling too queasy to stop and chat, most likely due to the rather bumpy ride Gunner had subjected her to, so she continued on her way until she spotted a very familiar figure. This one she simply couldn’t pass by. 

“Master Vos!” 

“Aayla?” Quinlan’s face morphed into delighted shock as she hurried over, and Aayla was quickly swept up into a crushing hug. “I had no idea you’d be on Coruscant.” 

“Me? How about you?” Aayla squeezed Quinlan just as tightly. His Force signature was so familiar and comforting that she relaxed against him almost instantly. The feeling of absolute safety that always accompanied Quinlan was gladly welcomed. It had been many rotations since Aayla had felt truly safe. “When’s the last time you’ve spent more than a few days on Coruscant?” 

“Too long,” Quinlan said with a rueful sigh. “I can hardly believe it. Let me look at you.” He pulled back, keeping her at an arm’s length. “Jedi General, huh? It still shocks me to think of you that way. I’ve heard you’ve become quite the strategist. Smart enough to rival Kenobi, eh?” 

“Maybe not as intelligent as Master Kenobi.” Aayla patted his arm affectionately. “Are you here for work, or do you have a moment to catch up?” 

“For you? Of course I do.” Quinlan led them over to a nearby bench and sat with her. “I am here for work, but I have a few minutes to spend with my favorite Padawan.” 

Aayla rolled her eyes at Quinlan’s wink. “You mean your former Padawan.” 

Quinlan waved his hand dismissively. “Once my Padawan, always my Padawan. Besides, you’d think Skywalker was still Kenobi’s Padawan by the way they argue. It’s hard to change that dynamic. Skywalker follows him around like a lost youngling.” 

“With how much you’re talking about Kenobi, I’m beginning to think you might have a crush on him,” Aayla teased, to which Quinlan scoffed. 

“On Kenobi? As if! The man hates my guts. Look, there was one time when we were Padawans, but that’s it…” 

“Alright, I’ve heard enough of your Padawan stories to last a lifetime.” Aayla nudged him playfully. “I want to hear about what you’ve been up to.”

“I’m afraid I’ll bore you with the lack of details,” Quinlan said. “Most of what I do is classified.”

“The life of a spy. Of course.” 

“Ah, well. I’ve gotten used to it.” Quinlan’s gaze lowered to his lap. The lines around his eyes and the shadows on his face informed Aayla there was too much he couldn’t say. She didn’t need the Force to tell her he was feeling the same strain of the war that they all were. Aayla gripped his hands tightly, drawing him closer, until he had no choice but to look at her again. 

“You’ve been taking care of yourself, haven’t you?”

Quinlan’s bright smile made a reappearance, though tinged slightly with sadness this time. “Hey, who’s the Master here? I’m just fine. You’re the one who’s out on the front lines. I should be concerned for you.”

“No need for concern,” Aayla promised him, but a slight wince betrayed her true state of mind. “Sorry, I’ve been feeling a bit fatigued lately.”

“Are you sick?” Quinlan’s hand came up to feel her forehead automatically. Aayla suddenly felt like a youngling again, being cared for by her Master when she had the sniffles or an upset stomach. No matter how small the twinge or ache, Quinlan had been there to hold her hand and sit by her bedside while she rested. He had been only a young man then, doing what he could to soothe her pain. Now, they had both been aged by years and war. She would take what comfort he could give to ease that burden. 

Aayla stayed still as Quinlan finished checking her over. “I’m not sure. I’ve felt strange for a few weeks. Tired, mostly, and a bit nauseous. It’s just the war catching up to me, I’m sure.”

Quinlan’s hand dropped from her forehead, but he still looked worried. “You don’t feel warm. Still, it might be worth a visit to the Temple medical center.”

“I wouldn’t want to take up their resources--” Aayla started, but was interrupted with a look from Quinlan. 

“If it’s nothing, they’ll tell you it’s nothing. You might just need rest. But if this has been going on for a few weeks, it could be something worth taking a look at.”

“I suppose you’re right. I haven’t had time to see the clone medics. I’ve just been so busy…” Aayla shook her head. “I should stop making excuses.”

“Let me accompany you, at least.” Quinlan stood with her and looped an arm around her shoulders. “You really don’t look well.”

Aayla’s arm curled around her stomach. A sudden bout of nausea had overcome her, and she was forced to lean against Quinlan as they walked. “It may be some kind of flu I picked up.” Her thoughts drifted to Bly, who she had spent several intimate nights with during their journey back to Coruscant. Hopefully she hadn’t gotten him sick as well. 

“Maybe. Or like you said, it’s the stress of the war. We’re all under plenty of pressure,” Quinlan said. He held her more firmly when he felt Aayla waver. “Almost there. It’s not far.”

“Thank you.” Aayla straightened up when they arrived in front of the medical center doors and turned to face Quinlan. “I appreciate your company and your assistance.”

“Always.” Quinlan squeezed Aayla’s hand before pulling away. “Listen, I’m still on Coruscant for a few more days. If you feel up to it, I’d love to see you again before I leave.”

Aayla closed her eyes briefly when Quinlan pressed an affectionate kiss to her forehead. “I’ll comm you. Maybe we can take a walk in the Temple garden. I’ve missed spending time there.”

“Of course. I hope you feel better.” With a nod and a little half-wave, Quinlan was off again, and Aayla was left alone standing in front of the medical center.

The doors slid open silently when Aayla approached them. Inside, the medical center was quiet and calm, with few patients aside from the youngling whose arm was being bandaged while a disapproving Master looked on. Though the air was sterile and smelled faintly of medical-grade bacta, it was not off-putting; rather, Aayla felt reassured knowing she could trust the Jedi healers. She sought out the one closest to the door. 

“Excuse me.”

The medic was a human female with bright eyes and a soft smile. Though she was young, she had a matronly look to her that put Aayla at ease. She waved Aayla over and greeted her warmly before picking up a datapad on the nearby desk. 

“My name is Cailyn. How can I assist you?”

“Cailyn, I’m Knight Secura. Aayla. I’m sorry, one moment.” Aayla was forced to pause when she was hit with another wave of sickening nausea, but there was no need to worry. Cailyn was already guiding her to lie down on a biobed, which Aayla gratefully did. Her stomach was still rolling as Cailyn drew the privacy curtain around them. 

“I can guess you’re here because you’re feeling unwell.”

“Yes, I am. It comes and goes in waves,” Aayla told Cailyn, who was now hovering by her side and typing away at her datapad. 

“Can you describe your symptoms to me?” Cailyn asked. 

Aayla’s stomach had finally begun to settle, and she was able to take a deep, steady breath. “It started with the headaches and fatigue a few weeks ago. The nausea is just awful in the mornings when I first wake up, though I usually feel a bit better after I’ve had my morning tea. I’m worried I’ve picked up some kind of flu. It doesn’t seem to be going away.” 

“Not to worry, Knight Secura. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” Cailyn’s calm, airy voice was soothing, though Aayla’s nerves were still a bit frazzled. Try as she might, she couldn't help her thoughts from drifting back to Bly. She hadn’t wanted to worry him by exposing her symptoms, so she had chosen to remain silent. Guilt crawled up her spine at the thought that her carelessness could harm him. 

“Try to relax and stay still.” 

Aayla hadn’t even realized how tense she was until Cailyn called her out. One by one, each of her muscles began to release, leaving Aayla feeling loose but oddly jittery. The biobed hummed beneath her fingertips, having been turned on by Cailyn, who was now monitoring the screen near Aayla’s head. 

“The scan won’t take more than a minute. It should be able to detect any abnormalities. I can take a blood sample after this to confirm the diagnosis.”

Aayla’s chest rose and fell with each of her slow, deliberate breaths as she kept still for the scan. The steady beeping of the monitor next to her gave her something to focus on so she wouldn’t feel anxious waiting for the results. The seconds ticked down in relative silence, save for the beeping and the soft taps of Cailyn working away at her datapad, until Aayla noticed that the healer had gone absolutely still beside her. Aayla started to turn her head, but remembering Cailyn’s instructions, managed to stay where she was. 

“Is everything alright?”

“Perfectly fine-- erm, yes, absolutely fine,” Cailyn said in a rush. The tapping of her fingers resumed at a higher intensity than it had been before. “Just double-checking the results. Maybe we should go ahead and take that blood sample, just in case.”

Dread pooled in the pit of Aayla’s stomach, and with the earlier nausea still lingering, it was a sickening combination. The scan was long over, so she sat up and peered at the monitor in an attempt to make sense of the lines of data and information. 

“I’d like to know what the results said. If I’m ill…” Aayla bit back her concerns about a particular Commander and course-corrected. “If I’m ill and it’s contagious, then I need to go into quarantine immediately and all the troops in my battalion must be monitored.”

Cailyn’s pursed lips were drawn into a frown as her eyes glanced between her monitor and her datapad. Finally, she seemed to admit defeat to the results and turned towards Aayla. “I can assure you that nothing you have is contagious.”

“That is good news.” Aayla hunched over in relief. Bly was safe, then-- and the rest of her men, of course. “It’s stress-related, then? Perhaps I just need a good rest.”

“Not quite.” Cailyn had yet to break eye contact with Aayla, and she was starting to become unnerved. “I don’t quite know how to deliver this information to you, so I suppose I should just come out with it. The scans indicate that you’re pregnant, Knight Secura. About six weeks along.”

The silence between them was deafening. There was no hint of humor on Cailyn’s face, nor was she laughing or smiling. Her hands were folded solemnly in her lap. Her eyes were concerned, but sincere, and Aayla found that it was herself that let out the soft, incredulous huff in the wake of such incredible news. 

“I’m sorry. That’s just not possible. The scan must be incorrect.”

“I’ll take a blood sample to confirm,” Cailyn said. “But the scan does seem to be correct.” She handed her datapad over to Aayla, who took it with stiff fingers and stared in disbelief. 

“It can’t be. It’s just not possible,” Aayla murmured numbly. She had gotten a slew of shocking information in her time as a Jedi and a General, but none that left her so cold and utterly demoralized. “I haven’t been with…” 

Hot shame rose to Aayla’s cheeks as memories of her encounters with Bly immediately contradicted her statement. It seemed completely irrelevant to her current dilemma considering that Bly was a clone, and it was well-known that clones were sterile. Of course they were. Aayla had never heard of a clone fathering a child-- then again, she had never heard of a clone that was allowed to pursue a true romantic relationship, nor one that had a partner beyond brief sexual release. That was all she and Bly had shared. It was just a sexual reprieve. Of course she cared about him, of course she acknowledged that their relationship was more than strictly professional, but--

They had never bothered to use protection. 

Clones of Jango Fett were sterile. 

But she’d never really seen the evidence of that, had she?

The datapad clattered to the floor. Both of Aayla’s hands rose to cover her face. She could feel the weight of Cailyn’s comforting hand rest on her shoulder, but she was too much in shock to acknowledge it. Cailyn’s gentle voice was in her ear: “I’ll grab a blood sample and then we’ll consider our options, alright?” Aayla was too deep into her own impropriety to respond. 

All she could see in her mind’s eye was Bly’s face; all she could feel was his lips on hers and his hands caressing her body, his skin as flushed and heated as her own. All she had sought was the companionship of another person with whom she felt she could be solely herself without the pressure of Knight Secura, or General Secura, or any number of roles she played during this wretched war. All she wanted was to feel alive in the midst of so much death and horror. All she wanted was soft, sweet Bly, with his shy smile and warm eyes, to remind her what it felt like to be vulnerable with another person. Now, all of that had been cruelly ripped away from her, and Aayla sat still on the biobed, alone and absolutely terrified. 

It was already clear to Aayla what the blood sample would say. As she sat rooted to her spot, mind racing with the possibilities, she began to form a plan. She was nothing if not a brilliant strategist, after all. No matter what happened, she refused to relinquish her position in this war. The stakes were too high, and her post was too important. The Republic needed her, the GAR needed her, the men of the 327th Star Corps needed her. 

Commander Bly needed her. 

Aayla wasn’t about to give up on any of them. 

Chapter Text

“What the hell is this place, Fox?” 

“You said you wanted to drink. This is the place to do it.” 

The bar Fox had brought him to was lackluster compared to Bly’s expectations. His boots stuck to the floor as he reluctantly set foot inside, surveying the unfamiliar terrain. It was dark, for one, and not in the way that suggested partying or dancing would be occurring. The dingy, low tables were littered with dusty mugs of some kind of suspicious liquid. Bly had never seen liquor that color. The bar’s occupants were even sketchier than its decor, though upon inspection, Bly realized most of the patrons were GAR-affiliated. It was a friendly bar, then; not a clone bar, but at least they wouldn’t get spat on in lieu of being served. 

“What happened to 79s?” Bly lamented as he slid onto a sticky barstool. “Are you too good for that place now?” 

Fox raised an eyebrow. “You think the men want to see a couple of high-ranking commanders at the bar when they’re trying to party and let loose? I know what happens at 79s, and in fact, I’d like to know less. I don’t want to be the one who ruins their good time. Soon as the men spot the head of the Coruscant Guard, they’re going to wish they never came out at all.” 

“Alright, I see your point.” Bly exhaled and leaned his elbows on the bar. “Guess we’re not shinies anymore.” 

“Like we ever were.” Fox lifted a hand to call the bartender over. “What’re you having?” 

“I’ll start with just an ale. Gonna be moving into something stronger later, that's for sure.”

Fox ordered the same before turning his attention to his brother’s woes. “You going to tell me what’s got you moping around when you’re supposed to be on leave?”

Bly mulled over a few different answers before he settled on one that was appropriate, even if it wasn’t the heart of his issues. “We lost a lot of good men over this campaign.” 

“The burden of command.” Fox nodded at the bartender as he slid mugs of ale towards them. “They die. You live.” 

“And to think people call you calloused, Fox.” Bly smirked over the rim of his mug as he gratefully drank it down. 

“They call me a lot of things.” Fox side-eyed Bly. “I don’t think that’s really what you’re upset about.” 

“No?” Bly asked casually, taking another long sip. 

“No.” Fox watched, unimpressed, as Bly’s now-empty mug slammed back down on the counter. “You wouldn’t have come out if that were true. You would’ve stayed with the injured, or tended to the cremation of the bodies, or better yet, holed up in your room and drank yourself into a coma. That’s not what this is.” 

“Isn’t it?” Bly flagged down the bartender for a refill. “What’s it matter anyway?” 

Fox’s hand shot out to grab Bly’s wrist before he could pick up his second mug of ale. The irritated look Bly shot him was overshadowed by Fox’s glare. 

“Don’t be an idiot. You’re deflecting. That’s my usual technique, not yours.”

“I have a lot on my mind lately.” Bly pulled his hand out of Fox’s slack grip and slumped forward. “I’m not being dishonest. I just can’t talk about it.” 

“Oh? Why, are you having some illicit affair?” Fox’s voice was laced with amusement, but it immediately switched to questioning when Bly’s body went stiff. “What--”

“Hey, boys, getting started without me?”

A hand came down to thump Bly on the back. Beside him, Cody slid into the empty stool, and he and Fox shared a nod in greeting across the bar. 

“I think Bly got started without me.” Fox’s first glass was only half empty, while Bly was already making great strides on his second. “Glad you could make it, Cody.”

The tired droop of Cody’s shoulders betrayed his fatigue, but he put on a smile and ordered from the bartender anyway. “General Kenobi’s the reason I’m on Coruscant. We’ve been looking into a group of Seperatist operatives that have supposedly established themselves here on Coruscant. So far, we’ve turned up nothing, but we’re still working.”

“Thire briefed me on that,” Fox said. “You’ve got some of my boys working with you, yeah?”

“What can I say?” Cody shrugged and sipped his drink. Unlike his brothers, he’d opted for something a little stronger and vaguely fruity. “They know the city better than anyone."

Fox smirked. “Damn straight.”

“What about you, Bly? You’re on leave?” Cody asked. He quirked an eyebrow as he took in Bly’s melancholy state. “You sure don’t look like it.”

“Look, it’s been a long few months.” Bly took in a breath and slowly shook his head to clear it. “I’d rather not focus on that right now.”

Bly wasn’t technically lying to his brothers, or at least, he’d like to think he wasn’t. Perhaps Fox had been right to question his excuses, but that didn’t mean Bly had to take the bait. The petty part of him wanted to throw around his own suspicions about Fox’s illicit affairs. He had certainly heard plenty of gossip. Instead, he switched tactics, not wanting to risk bringing the heat back on himself.  

“How’s Rex?”

“Good as he can be. I saw him a few weeks ago ago before General Kenobi and I left for Coruscant,” Cody responded. “His boys are headed to Ringo Vinda last I heard.”

“Yeah? I don’t envy him,” Bly said with a snort. “I heard that planet’s miserable. Mostly swamps and blood-sucking parasites the size of your hand.” He made a fist for emphasis. “It’s gonna be a tough one."

“You can say that again.” Cody raised his glass and nodded solemnly at Bly and Fox. “To our brother.”

“To our brother,” they echoed, and then they all drank.

With the formalities out of the way, Bly began to loosen up. The alcohol contributed, of course, but the familiarity of being around his brothers was what truly brought Bly out of his shell. As the night progressed, the bar slowly began to fill with clone officers and friendly natborns until the atmosphere turned from stagnant to upbeat. It was nearly impossible for Bly to keep track of how much he was drinking even if he wanted to. After two, he’d switched to something a little harder than ale, and eventually he stopped trying to identify the liquid in the shot glasses his brothers were handing him. Fox had bought them, so why refuse? Bly came here to drink, and to forget. He wasn’t doing so well on the second goal, even with the alcohol buzzing in his system. 

A pretty Twi’lek waitress caught Bly’s eye between his second and third shot of a mysterious glowing blue liquid Cody had shoved into his hands. She watched him with a small smile, hand cocked on her hip, as Bly tipped his head back and let the liquor pour down his throat. It was going down like water by this point. That alone should’ve been a warning signal, but the night had caught up with Bly and he wasn’t thinking clearly anymore. 

The only thing Bly was thinking about was Aayla, and how much her bright, smooth skin looked like the waitress’s. The way they wrapped their lek were similar too; leathery bands, winding around intricately, tight and uniform. The waitress’s smile was warm and infectious, and Bly found himself smiling back before he could think about what he was doing. Her and Aayla looked similar enough that they could be sisters, Bly thought, though that easily could’ve been the alcohol talking. It was hard to know how much he was projecting and how much was real and tangible. 

But that had been their whole relationship, hadn’t it? Bly had thought he and Aayla had a future. He thought that was what she wanted, too, and he was almost brave enough to say it. It was almost laughable, how caught up Bly had been in his own happiness at finally having the one thing that had always been denied to him. It was no wonder clones were forbidden from seeking any kind of meaningful relationship. It would do nothing but blind them, make them forget about their responsibilities, and trick them into thinking there was anything more important than duty. Aayla had handed him a harsh but necessary truth. Make no promises in war. That was one axiom that would stay with Bly no matter what. 

The dizziness that usually accompanied a stomach full of liquor began to catch up to Bly near the end of the night. Cody and Fox were still chatting away, swapping drunken stories with another Corrie Commander Bly couldn’t remember the name of. Churning low in his guts told Bly that he really shouldn’t have accepted that last drink, but Thorn had cajoled him into trying some kind of spicy rum, and-- that was his name after all, Thorn; Bly couldn’t believe he had forgotten it, but the headache pounding away at his ears had seemingly wiped away all rational thought. 

Distantly, Bly realized that the table full of his brothers had gone quiet, and they were all looking at him with matching concerned expressions. Bly didn’t think he looked that sick. Patting at his cheeks, Bly tried to bring himself back around and sober up. Predictably, it didn’t work. 

“Hey, idiot,” Bly heard Fox yell as he leaned over to talk into his ear. It was hard to hear with all the people and the music cranked up. “Check your comm.”

Bly blinked, not quite processing what he was saying. “What?”

“Check your comm! It’s been going off for five minutes.”

“What? Oh-- shit!” Bly’s face was the perfect mixture of drunken surprise and embarrassment, and Fox laughed at him before returning to his conversation with Thorn and Cody. 

Clumsy fingers attempted to fish out the hand-held comm unit, though it took several tries for Bly to get it out. Not wanting to further disturb his brothers, Bly stumbled away from the table to a quiet corner to check his messages. The bar was only slightly spinning. Bly could at least get his bearings enough to read the first lines of holo text that came up when Bly turned on the beeping receiver. 

MISSED MESSAGES FROM: AAYLA SECURA

MARKED: PERSONAL

A nauseating chill ran down Bly’s spine when he read those words. They were more sobering than Wolffe’s infamous hangover cure. Aayla had been comming him for the better part of an hour, on and off, with her most recent slew of messages sent in the last few minutes. Curiously enough, although the number of messages Aayla had sent implied some kind of emergency, Aayla had opted to use Bly’s personal channel instead of the ‘urgent’ or ‘emergency’ channels. If it was truly serious, there was no way Aayla would have used his personal channel. That was only for decrypting private messages. 

Maybe she felt bad for dismissing him so harshly the night before. Maybe she wanted to meet up, have a drink, or more. Maybe she just wanted to talk. Bly didn’t know, and in the state he was in, he didn’t care. This night was about him and Cody and Fox. Aayla knew that. If she had something to say, she could say it to him in the morning. Then he’d at least be able to gather the brain cells scattered by liquor to give her a coherent response. 

Bly turned off his comm and slipped it back into his pocket. 

Making his way back to the table was proving more difficult than Bly had initially considered with the crowds and his current lack of dexterity. He tripped twice over two different chairs, running into a Corrie captain who scowled at him, and he hastily apologized. This night was quickly coming to a disastrous and abrupt end. 

Black spots danced at the edges of Bly’s vision as he recovered from his brief run-in with the captain. He truly hoped he was not about to pass out in the middle of this bar, though it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him. He could be covered in vomit. Just as that thought occurred to him, Bly became aware of his rolling stomach again, and he groaned aloud when the floor pitched beneath him. 

A steady hand grabbed Bly’s bicep a moment before catastrophe. He was upright a second later, though his stomach was still bubbling dangerously. A voice laced with concern sounded right by his ear, so light and soft and sweet, and for one moment Bly just let himself sway with it in the music. 

“Are you feeling alright, honey?”

Bly’s entire body lurched as he jerked himself out of the Twi’lek waitress’s grip. Eyes wide, he stammered out a half-assed apology as he backed away, bumping into tables and patrons alike as he went. The kind waitress could only stare in shock at Bly’s fumbling. 

“Alright, brother, that’s enough for you tonight.” 

Bly suddenly found himself squished between two solid forces, who held him up almost solely through their own strength. He made a pathetic picture, sagging between them as they half-marched, half-dragged him out, until fresh air finally assaulted them and Bly’s stomach lost the battle against Thorn’s spicy rum. 

“Not your best look, Bly,” Fox remarked dryly. Bly only continued to dry heave in response. Once they had determined he was mostly done vomiting, Cody called a taxi, and they all piled in with Bly’s sad form wedged between them. 

The only words the cab driver spoke to them were “You pay triple if he pukes in my cab”. Luckily, it was a short ride, and Bly managed not to get sick again. Fox tipped the driver handsomely anyway. It wasn’t until they had actually stepped foot inside the building and ridden the elevator up that Bly, still supported by his brothers, actually took in his surroundings and realized where they were. 

“Fox? What the hell? Take me back to my barracks.” 

“Can’t do that, brother.” Fox shrugged Bly’s arm off his shoulder and approached a keypad mounted into the wall, which he used to enter a code. “You’ll choke on your own vomit. Come on.” 

Fox’s quarters were bigger than any Cody or Bly were allotted aboard a ship, though still tiny by most people’s standards. It held a single bunk, barely large enough for Fox himself, with a desk wedged into the corner and a refresher the size of a shoebox just behind a door. As soon as they were inside, Fox opened up the tiny closet attached to his ‘fresher and pulled out a few extra blankets. 

“Lay him on the floor.” 

Bly let out an undignified squawk as Cody unceremoniously dumped him onto the threadbare rug by Fox’s bed. His boots were removed, as was his jacket. Bly would’ve protested at this infantilizing treatment if he actually had the coordination to do that all himself. 

A blanket and extra pillow smacked Bly in the face when Fox tossed them down. After a bit of adjustment, a decently comfortable bed was made on the floor, while Fox collapsed into his own bunk to pass out. 

Expecting Cody to leave for his own barracks, where he could sleep in an actual bunk, Bly simply rolled over and tried to get comfortable on Fox’s floor. Unfortunately for Bly, Cody wasn’t ready to leave him just yet. 

“Hey, Bly.” 

Bly waited a beat to see if Cody would believe he was asleep. The blanket lifted, allowing Cody to slip underneath, and a moment later Bly felt Cody’s warmth pressed up against his back. Bly’s memory conjured up the remnants of a better time, when Bly and Cody had laid just like this in their crib together at three standard years, knowing nothing but the comfort of each other as they figured out the insane world they were thrust into so suddenly. Bly longed for those simpler times now. The older they got, the more vast and complicated the galaxy was. 

The tickle of Cody’s sour breath on the back of his neck made Bly squirm, but Cody wasn’t doing it to mess with him. A gentle squeeze to his arm calmed Bly, who was starting to feel overwhelmed with the events of the day. 

“When you’re ready to talk, let me know.” 

With that, Cody rolled over, and the space between them felt that much colder as Bly laid awake thinking about his transgressions. 

***

After the fifth time Aayla tried Bly’s comm with no response, she decided to give up. 

It was late, but Aayla had taken some time to gather her thoughts before attempting to contact Bly. Some small part of her felt relieved that he didn’t respond. Even now, after hours of meditation and reaching out into the Force for an answer, Aayla still felt utterly lost. It wasn’t real to her yet, when she could still reach down and feel the flatness of her stomach and rationalize it all away. She didn’t feel any different. Yet, she knew that she was, that the events of the day had irreparably changed her. It was terrifying. And Aayla had no one to guide her, not even the Force, which stayed stubbornly distant no matter how hard she tried to reach out. 

Aayla had never felt so alone than she did in that moment. The meditation room was secluded and threadbare save for the thin mat she was sitting on, the perfect environment to clear one’s mind, but Aayla’s was too tumultuous to calm down with any amount of contemplation. It was late, and Aayla was feeling tired and dreadfully isolated. She wasn’t even sure she wanted Bly at this point. All she wanted was to go to sleep and hope that in the morning, this terrible, complicated affair would be nothing more than a strange dream at the edge of her consciousness. 

Standing, Aayla took a moment to stretch out her stiff limbs. There was no telling how long she had been kneeling there, though her knees told her it had been the better part of several hours. Hopefully sleep would provide her the clarity she was lacking. 

Had Aayla not been so distracted by her own thoughts and worries, she wouldn’t have been caught so off guard when she opened the door to the meditation room to find she wasn’t alone. Another figure nearly ran head-first into her as she exited the room, and Aayla let out a startled gasp. His Force signature-- tranquil, amicable, comforting-- washed over her, calming her racing heart. 

“Master Kenobi, forgive me.”

“It’s quite alright, Aayla.” Obi-Wan steadied her with a hand, catching his own balance at the same time. His brow creased in worry when he observed her state of agitation. “You seem disturbed.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi, the great negotiator. Tactful when he wanted to be, but blunt when needed. Aayla gave him an acquiescent smile. 

“I am a bit distracted. I was hoping meditation would clear my mind, but I’m afraid I feel even more confused now.”

Obi-Wan nodded in understanding. “Although silent reflection often helps me in times of stress, sometimes I must resort to other methods to find the clarity I require.”

Aayla lowered her gaze, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her turmoil. She could protect her emotions in the Force, but hiding her physical tells wasn’t so easy. “And what would you do if you were faced with a problem with no solution, but only consequences you weren’t sure you were ready to bear?”

Obi-Wan took a moment to seriously ponder her question, his hand poised at the tip of his chin. “I might talk to someone I trusted. It can help to get another point of view.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Aayla admitted. “It’s all become so complicated, and I’m afraid I’ve let not just myself down, but everyone around me. I feel lost.”

“Let me accompany you back to your quarters,” Obi-Wan suggested. “If, on the way there, you feel compelled to speak what’s on your mind, I would welcome it. I’ve been told I’m a good listener.” His gentle, reassuring presence was enough to convince Aayla. It couldn’t hurt to hear another opinion, especially from someone she respected and trusted as much as Obi-Wan.

“Actually, I would appreciate your advice,” Aayla said. “If it’s not too much trouble.” 

“I can provide that as well. Or at least, I can try.” Obi-Wan fell into step beside Aayla as they made their way back to the far corner of the Temple that housed their private rooms. “What’s troubling you?”

Aayla silently gathered her scattered thoughts, and when she felt she could be honest without giving away all of her secrets, she spoke. 

“I know attachments are forbidden for a reason. Not that relationships are, but selfish, malicious attachments, the kind that distract one from duty and lead one down the path to the dark side. Even so, I…” Aayla let out a puff of air. “I find myself once again at war with my emotions.”

Obi-Wan inclined his head as he listened intently. “You’re talking about Quinlan?”

“Yes, and no,” Aayla said. “You know that leaving him was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. In many ways, he was, and still is, a father figure for me. But I had to let him go in the end. I was stunting my own growth by remaining anchored to him.”

“The bond between Master and student is incredibly strong. You aren’t the only one that’s struggled with that, Aayla. I was forced to leave my Master under very different circumstances.” A flash of old, deep pain flitted over Obi-Wan’s face, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. “I longed for the connection we once had. I felt very lost and very alone, and in some ways, abandoned. But as you said, finding our independence separate from our Masters is a crucial part of our growth as Jedi. That was one principle Anakin never had trouble with, actually.”

Aayla let out a light chuckle. “I’ve heard stories. That isn’t what I’m having trouble with, though. I feel secure in my bond with Quinlan now. This is a different kind of attachment.”

“Ah.” The corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth twitched upwards. “I think I know the one.”

“Yes.” Aayla paused as they passed another Jedi Master in the hall, who Obi-Wan greeted briefly. She waited until he was out of earshot to continue. “I fear I’ve made a mistake that will jeopardize my position as a Jedi and a General.”

“You don’t feel fit to carry out your command?” Obi-Wan asked. 

Aayla hesitated. “You could put it that way, yes. I’m afraid I will no longer be able to retain my command because of the decisions I’ve made.”

“I have seen nothing to suggest you would not be capable of carrying out your duties,” Obi-Wan said. “Why do you believe this attachment would prevent you from doing so?”

“Because…” Aayla’s steps slowed when her room came into view. Her feet carried her to her door, situated near the beginning of the hallway, where she turned to fully face Obi-Wan. “I don’t think I can let this one go.”

If Obi-Wan was shocked by her admission, he did not show it. In fact, he looked rather calm for a man who now held Aayla’s second most scandalous secret in the palm of his hand, whereas Aayla was sure her shame and fear was thick in the Force. 

“Attachments aren’t inherently evil, Aayla,” Obi-Wan began. He had the air of a man who was choosing his words carefully. “They are an important part of our development. My bond with Anakin is still quite strong. I also have a bond with those I grew up with and trained with, such as Quinlan and Siri. And of course, I share mentorships with some of the Masters, including Master Windu and Master Yoda. Becoming attached to those around us is natural. If you’re worried that the relationship you have fostered is inappropriate, I would consider the motivations behind it. The reason we are asked to evaluate our connections with others is because jealousy, hatred, and selfishness often accompany passion. It is a dangerous trap to fall into, and one that can lead to the dark side of the Force. But that doesn’t mean we, as Jedi, are immune to intense feelings of fondness and love for others. That also doesn’t mean that those feelings are wrong, or you should feel guilty about them.”

“Somehow I sense you speak from experience,” Aayla mused, and Obi-Wan laughed. 

“As I once said to Anakin, the Order would be a sad group indeed if it was made up only of those invulnerable to love.”

“I appreciate your advice nonetheless.” Aayla bowed her head respectfully. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. Of course, I must consider what is best not just for myself, but for the Order.”

“A wise answer.” Obi-Wan stepped back as if to leave her, but wavered, instead leaning in to offer one last piece of advice. “If I may add… The Order will be stronger as a whole if you are secure in yourself and your bonds with others. That is the most important factor. Only you will know what’s right. Seek counsel, but trust your instincts. They will guide you.” 

“Thank you.” 

Aayla watched Obi-Wan walk down the hall, and it was only when he had disappeared around the corner that she entered her own room. Though uncertainty still plagued her, along with guilt over telling Obi-Wan half-truths, she felt lighter than she had since she had received the harrowing news of her pregnancy. There was no more denying her and Bly’s relationship had developed far beyond a fling they could easily divorce themselves from. Now, they would both have to deal with not just the physical consequences of their relations, but the emotional fallout as well. There was nothing left to do but talk to Bly. 

Chapter Text

Everything was too damn loud. 

A soft groan forced its way out of Bly’s cracked lips as awareness tugged at the edges of his consciousness. He nearly choked on the weight of his tongue, heavy in his parched mouth as he tried to force it to work so he could tell whoever was yelling to shut the hell up. As he began to rouse, Bly became aware that the person in question was, in fact, speaking in a normal register, but each syllable was a thunderclap to him. Bly wrenched his dry eyes open to glare at the man hovering over him. His head throbbed in time with his heart. 

“Oh good, you’re up,” the blurry figure deadpanned. “You look like shit.” 

“Fox, dammit.” Bly clumsily batted Fox’s hand away when it extended to offer him a canteen full of water. “Stop talking so damn loud.” 

“I’m not. You’re just hungover.” Fox’s armor creaked as he crouched down. “I don’t have time to babysit you for the rest of the day. Are you getting up, or do I need to call someone to haul you down to the medical bay for a hydration drip?” 

“I’m up, I’m up,” Bly grumbled. He made a valiant effort to roll onto his back and sit up, but the moment he became vertical, his world began to dip and slide sideways. Only Fox’s steadying hand kept him from collapsing back onto the floor.

That reassuring presence didn’t last long. Within the minute, Fox was pulling Bly to his feet and holding him as he swayed with his rolling stomach. It was just a few steps to Fox’s bunk. Bly dropped down onto it with a grateful sigh and accepted the canteen from Fox when it was thrust into his face again.

While Bly sipped on water that tasted vaguely of the electrolyte powder they used out in the field during long missions, Fox finished strapping on his armor and snatched up his bucket from his desk. His disapproving stare cut through the fog hanging over Bly. 

“You’d think a Commander would have something to do before midday.” 

“Leave, remember?” Bly lifted his canteen in a mock toast and threw his head back for another long drink. “I don’t answer to anyone here.” 

Fox let out a derisive snort as he shoved his bucket onto his head. “Might want to check your messages before you become too comfortable with that, brother. You can stay here until you’re well enough to walk. If you get sick, clean it up. And make sure you’re out by the time I get back tonight. Not all of us have the luxury of leave.”

Before Bly’s sluggish mind could think of a good comeback, the door was already sliding shut behind Fox. 

Bly had half a mind to lay down in Fox’s bunk and go back to sleep, but his brother’s comment about checking his messages had piqued his interest. He remembered very little after he started taking shots of that nasty tequila Cody had offered him. His stomach certainly did. 

There were enough flashes of memory for Bly to piece together what had happened. The drinking had been interspersed with chatting with brothers he hadn’t seen in a long time. Thorn had been there, one of Fox’s right hand men, along with a few brothers Bly hadn’t been expecting. Keeli, Stone, Thire, Hound… he could barely conjure their faces, but he remembered them yelling in his ear, pounding him on the back, and contributing to his drunkenness. 

And then there was her. Guilt climbed up Bly’s throat as that memory taunted him. The waitress whose name he couldn’t even remember, who had been so kind to him, and who was both too much and not enough of a distraction from the one who was really on his mind. Bly didn’t need to look at the handheld comm still tucked away in his belt to know what it held. Insecurity had reared its ugly head, fueled by bad decisions and alcohol. It wasn’t fair to her, and it wasn’t fair to him. He could only hope that Aayla could accept his apology if he came to her honestly, as he should’ve in the beginning. 

Before Bly could think about what he would say to Aayla, he had to scrape together his sorry self into something presentable. Fox had been generous enough to offer him use of his space. Bly had to assume that extended to his refresher, unless Fox wanted to further shame the GAR by letting his disheveled, stale-smelling, hungover brother stumble through the halls in search of the communal barracks. 

It took another half hour of resting and sipping electrolyte water for Bly to feel well enough to stand. Though it was small, Fox’s private ‘fresher was a blessing. Bly could take as much time as he needed far away from the prying eyes of nosy brothers. Just to spite Fox for his earlier comments, Bly took liberal use of his water ration and some scented soap that had clearly been a gift. That was what he deserved for implying Bly didn’t work just as hard as he did. 

By the time he exited the shower, Bly was already feeling more like himself. At least clones’ resistance to fatigue and physical stress made recovering from a hangover marginally less miserable. As for his clothes, Fox’s civvies would have to do until Bly could get back to his own barracks and fetch his armor. His outfit from the night before smelled like, and was hastily deposited in, the garbage. Fox would forgive him. Eventually. 

As Bly stepped out of Fox’s quarters, he spared half a thought for Cody, who had been noticeably absent when he woke up. It was likely that General Kenobi had called him back to work before the sun was even up. Bly didn’t envy his brother. Besides the grueling work Cody had to put in as Marshal Commander of the 7th Sky Corps, Bly wouldn’t trade his position for Cody’s rank or reputation. Maybe his point of view was colored by the person with whom he was lucky enough to work with by day and sleep beside at night, but that didn’t matter to Bly. It was enough for him. 

A small squad of speeders awaited Bly outside the Coruscant Guard barracks. The Jedi Temple was near enough that it could be seen with the naked eye from the platform where he was standing, but far away enough that the Jedi wouldn’t have spared them a thought. A few of the Corrie boys recognized him as he strode across the docking platform and manned his own speeder, but they paid him no mind. Most of them would be headed to one of the various government buildings in this sector for patrol duty, or the detention center, or even the lower levels. Bly was reminded of one of Thorn’s dark jokes as he kicked off and pointed his speeder in the direction of the Temple. 

Only the lucky ones get sent to the lower levels. If they’re really lucky, they won’t come back. 

The journey to the Temple was brief; not quite long enough for Bly to figure out what the hell he was supposed to say to Aayla that would fix all of this. The truth was that he had been feeling uneasy about their relationship for awhile, and last night had made that very clear. For all that he wanted to be her equal, Bly knew he never could be. Those old feelings of inadequacy and jealousy were clouding his mind. It was all Bly could do not to let them sweep him away. Aayla’s words that night before leave stung deep in his chest in a place Bly hadn’t even known existed, but he couldn’t banish the nagging doubt now that it had made a home. 

“I’d rather spend this time appreciating what we have than lamenting an uncertain future.”

There was no uncertainty. Not for Bly. Not when it came to her. All he could do was hope that he would be strong enough to let her go if she didn’t feel the same way. 

The Temple Guards didn’t question Bly’s excuse of being summoned by his General for why he needed to dock so urgently. It wasn’t technically a lie, but it wasn’t the plain truth. Bly had gotten used to those little white lies lately. The General and I are making a late night of it. No, no, we shouldn’t be disturbed. We have strategy to discuss, you know, and the reports from last week are still piling up…

Walking to Aayla’s quarters while sandwiched between two Temple Guards was uncomfortable at best, considering how unusual it was for a clone to be visiting the Temple without being directly accompanied by their General. Luckily, the guards kept their mouths shut, and so did Bly. Hopefully Aayla wouldn’t turn him away. Even if she was upset, Bly couldn’t imagine that she would. 

One of the guards notified Aayla through her door comm when they arrived. There was a brief moment where Bly thought she might not answer, but then her door was sliding open, and all the worries and apologies that had been balancing on the tip of his tongue flew away. 

As a Jedi, Aayla had spent years learning to master her emotions. Bly had never known her to be particularly expressive, except when they were intimate, but that was passion that was reserved only for him. The relief written into her features betrayed all her years of training. Aayla exhaled his name like a prayer, her hand reaching out for him, but she remembered herself at the last moment. Straightening, she nodded at the guards and stepped aside to let Bly in. 

“Thank you for coming, Commander. We have urgent business to discuss.” 

The guards took their cue, and Bly took his. 

Bly had never seen the inside of Aayla’s quarters before. They were simple and sparse, as was typical of the Jedi. There was a neatly-made bunk in the corner, with a nightstand that held only a single personal item, a diminutive statue that might have been religious. Besides that, Aayla had a small desk wedged next to her closet, and a plain rug on the floor. Her room on board their ship had more personality. Bly wondered what that said about the kind of life they led. 

The nervous tension between them was broken when Aayla took Bly’s hand into hers. It was so small and soft, and that one action was enough to calm the anxious pitter-patter of his heart against his ribcage. 

“I apologize for disturbing you on your night out with your brothers.” 

As was his nature, Bly’s first reaction was to reassure her. “No, not at all. It’s me who should apologize, General--” He bit his tongue. “Aayla. I should be apologizing to you. I was distracted last night. I should’ve answered.” 

“It’s quite alright, Bly. It was probably better that you didn’t.” Bly shot her a quizzical look, but Aayla shook her head dismissively. “I needed some time to think. So much has happened between us that I haven’t had time to process it.” 

There it was. The moment Bly was dreading was quickly approaching, when Aayla would realize this was all a mistake and rebuke him. She must’ve sensed his trepidation, for she squeezed his hand and quickly backtracked. 

“I don’t want you to think I’m unhappy with the current state of our relationship. I do care deeply about you. That much hasn’t changed. I don’t think it ever will, truly.” 

Bly allowed a thread of cautious optimism to rise to the surface. She wasn’t rejecting him, not yet-- though there was still time, if that was her true intention. 

“I’m afraid of what this means for us,” Bly confessed. “I didn’t know what to think when this started happening. Of course I admired you, and I enjoyed our time together. But I had no idea…” He swallowed thickly. “I know Jedi aren’t supposed to form attachments. It goes against your beliefs, not to mention it violates the chain of command. Does it matter what we feel, when this will always be wrong?” 

Aayla pulled Bly by the hand to sit, and he did so reluctantly, still loosely clutching her despite everything in him that said he should push her away. 

“It doesn’t feel wrong to me.” Aayla’s eyes searched Bly’s face, looking for any hint of disagreement, but there was none. “Being with you has only ever brought me happiness, and peace, and comfort. I know what the Order says, but I also know my feelings. Maybe our relationship was once something that I could let go when the time came. Not anymore, Bly.” She moved a fraction of an inch closer until their thighs were touching, and he had no choice but to look her in the eyes. “I need to know your true feelings. I don’t want you to say what you think I want to hear, or what you think you should say. We need to be honest with each other, here, now, before things go any further--”

“I love you,” Bly blurted out. His cheeks were hot under his golden tattoos, and they only grew warmer when he realized Aayla wasn’t pulling back out of shock; she was drawing nearer out of joy, until she was almost in his lap and their lips were just inches apart. 

“I love you too, Bly.” 

It was the most natural thing in the world for Bly to kiss her, then-- it was quite possibly the only thing he could do in the moment, and Aayla responded eagerly to him, her hands grasping his shoulders like she needed him to breathe. 

They barely managed to pull apart to gasp for air, several long moments later. Bly’s breath puffed out against her lips. “I’m sorry for not trusting you. I wanted to protect your feelings, and mine. I didn’t want to force anything that wasn’t there. I didn’t want to assume.”

“No, Bly, I’m the one who was misguided.” Aayla stole another kiss, which sidetracked them for a good several seconds before she pulled back. “Two nights ago, I wasn’t sure what lay ahead for us. I had no idea your feelings were this strong. I never wanted you to think I didn’t desire a future with you. I want that, if you’ll have me.” 

“If I’ll have you?” Bly’s voice cracked with emotion at the end. “Aayla, I-- You’re so incredible, and kind, and strong, and gorgeous.” A mischievous grin, the kind that Aayla had come to love, tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I’d be a stupid man to say no to that, especially being who I am.”

“Who you are…” Aayla punctuated her point with a kiss, and then another, and one after every pause just to make sure he got the point, “is the wonderful, handsome, intelligent man that I want to be with. I know exactly who you are. That’s why I chose you.” 

Had Bly been a stronger man, he might’ve taken that opportunity to slow down and talk with Aayla about their relationship. What they were doing was as taboo as it could get, especially when the heat began to build between them. Bly found himself unable to separate from her. He was being swallowed whole by the fondness and weakness for her that had been growing since the first time he stumbled over his name introducing himself to her.

That was the amazing thing about their relationship, though. Bly didn’t have to be the strong one, not when he had Aayla to be his rock. And it turned out Aayla was weak for him too. 

The hallowed stillness of the Temple rested over them as they fell into bed together. They had carved out this space for themselves, in this moment, where they could lay themselves bare and say with their bodies what they couldn’t possibly speak aloud. Making love to Aayla in her room at the Temple was like their first time all over again. It was sweet, it was tender; it was filled with laughter and chaste kisses and the rediscovery of what they meant to each other. Outside the room, time marched by at its even pace, but for Bly and Aayla, it stretched into an infinity where only they and their passion existed. 

After, Bly lay beside Aayla with his head pillowed on her soft stomach. He had been too caught up in the excitement of their reciprocated feelings to think about the logistical hurdles of their relationship. Loving Aayla could never be wrong, not to Bly, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be consequences for their relationship. He could no longer ignore the creeping doubt.

“Aayla.” Bly tilted his head up to press a brief kiss to her neck, pulling her out of her reverie. “There’s something I still need to talk to you about.” A guilty expression flashed over Aayla’s face, and Bly paused. “Is everything alright?” 

“Actually, Bly, I haven’t been completely honest with you,” Aayla said, her voice low and regretful. “This will change things between us, and I wanted to know your feelings before I told you.” 

Bly sat up and propped himself up on an elbow, letting the sheet covering them drift down to his waist. “Whatever it is, we’ll work through it. I’m sure you have your doubts. I do too. And I don’t blame you. We can’t change who we are, and that makes things more complicated for us.” 

Aayla’s hand came up to cup Bly’s cheek tenderly. “I wish it was that simple, love.” 

Before she could elaborate on whatever was weighing on her mind, Bly was startled by the shrill beeping of her door chime. He froze, his eyes the size of droid poppers, as Aayla vaulted herself over him and out of bed to fumble for her clothes.  

“Who-- who is it?” Aayla called. She did her best to keep the panic out of her voice, but was only mildly successful. 

“Hey, it’s me!” a familiar voice called through the door. Aayla internally groaned as both relief and annoyance washed over her. 

“Master Vos. I apologize; I’m indisposed at the moment.” 

“I just wanted to check on you.” Aayla was too busy pulling her shirt over her lekku to respond, and Quinlan’s voice increased with worry the longer she stayed silent. “Are you alright? How was your visit to the medical center?” 

Aayla didn’t have time to address the look of alarm on Bly’s face. She shoved on a pair of shorts long enough to cover her modesty, gestured at Bly to stay silent, and walked quickly to the door. 

“I feel fine. Thank you for your concern. I’ve been resting and meditating today to clear my mind.” 

“Sure, I understand,” Quinlan said. “Well, maybe we could talk while taking a walk in the Temple gardens like you suggested yesterday.” He sounded so earnest that Aayla almost felt bad rejecting him. 

“I don’t think I feel up for that. Maybe later today.” 

“I thought you said you felt fine?” Quinlan pressed the door release and huffed when he discovered it was locked. “I’d feel a lot better if I could see you.” 

Aayla took a quick glance behind her. Silent communication passed between her and Bly, and he found himself wrapped up in her sheet in the only corner adjacent to the door that guaranteed Quinlan would not see him from the hallway. 

“Quinlan.” Aayla plastered on a smile when the door slid open to reveal her former Master, who looked both concerned and wary. “I assure you, I’m perfectly fine.” 

“You don’t sound perfectly fine. You sound like you’re being held hostage.” Quinlan tried to poke his head into her room, but Aayla placed a hand on his chest and swiftly blocked his entrance. 

“I promise I would tell you if something was the matter. Now if you could just--”

“Hold on.” Quinlan squinted at her. “Why are you acting so strange? You’ve never--” He suddenly balked when he took in what she was wearing, and his face morphed into the perfect picture of shocked realization as the pieces fell into place. “Holy-- okay. Okay. Wow, I’m sorry, I’ll come back. That’s, uh. Okay.” 

“Quinlan, no,” Aayla pleaded with growing horror, “it’s not… like that, is really not.” 

“No, no.” Quinlan shook his head. His eyes remained trained on the ground. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I mean, you’re an adult. I shouldn’t have tried to barge in.”

Aayla was ready to wither away in embarrassment. The only thing making the situation worse was Bly, still in the corner, who was oscillating between terrified and amused. Her desperate need to convince Quinlan that it was not, in fact, what it looked like kept her glued at the door, digging her own grave deeper one shovelful at a time. 

“I’ve been meditating. That’s all. I’ve been alone all morning.” 

“Aayla, I don’t know how to break this to you…” Quinlan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I know that’s not your shirt.” 

Aayla didn’t have to look down to know. Bly’s dark, baggy shirt was hanging off her frame, so long that it covered her shorts. Her bare legs were even more damning than the clothing itself. With her dignity at the lowest it could possibly go, Aayla finally admitted defeat, and Quinlan did what he did best: put on fake bravado to brush aside the awkwardness of the situation. 

“Hey, I should go see what Kenobi’s up to,” Quinlan said a little too loudly. “We’ll catch up later, okay? Okay.” 

Aayla couldn’t close the door to her quarters fast enough. Bly was still huddled in the corner, wrapped in her tangled sheets. Aayla buried her head in her hands and she collapsed onto her bed with a tired sigh. 

“That couldn’t have possibly gone worse.”

Bly eased himself onto the bed next to her. “I don’t think he knew it was me.” 

“He’s a father figure to me. I rather hoped he would never find out I did anything like this, though being who he is…” Aayla laughed softly. “I think he knew.” 

“I’ve never known General Vos to be embarrassed about anything,” Bly offered as solace. “I’m sure you don’t have to worry.” 

“Maybe not…” Aayla trailed off faintly. “Not about that.” 

Bly toyed with the edge of the sheet, folding and refolding it in his hands, as the silence stretched on between them. Aayla didn’t seem keen to break it, so he did so reluctantly. 

“You can tell me whatever it is.” 

Head bowed and shoulders slumped, Aayla nodded along with Bly’s reassurance. She looked strangely vulnerable in a way he had never seen before. It was unnerving, and he felt helpless to comfort her. Anything Bly could say in the moment was empty. Aayla had to find the courage herself to get out what she needed to say. 

“It’s strange… I’ve been pondering this since yesterday, but I still can’t seem to find the words.” Aayla’s hand crept over to Bly’s and he gladly took it, holding it tightly to ground her. 

“It’s okay. It’s just me.” 

“I know.” Aayla allowed a deep breath to fill her chest, and then let it out all at once, steeling her nerves for what was to come. “I’ve been sick lately. I didn’t want to tell you because I assumed it was just stress, and I didn’t want you to worry. Over the past few weeks, I started becoming nauseous and fatigued, and I often had headaches that wouldn’t seem to go away. I just didn’t have the time to address it while we were deployed. But when we got back, I mentioned how I’d been feeling to Quinlan, and he was concerned. I realized how silly it was for me to lecture my men about taking care of themselves when I was making excuses for my own health. So I went to see the Temple healers.” 

Nothing was shocking about her story so far, though Bly worried about the potential severity of her illness. It wasn’t like Aayla to tiptoe around an issue like this. She was a fixer, like him, and if it was a problem that could be solved, she would’ve done it. 

“So what did the healer say?” 

“They did a full body scan. I thought I might’ve picked up some kind of flu while we were planetside a month ago.” Aayla trained her eyes on where their hands joined, strong and sure together, and found the strength to press on. “I’m pregnant, Bly. About six weeks along. It’s been years since I-- well. I haven’t been with anyone else. Just you. So there’s no question.” 

“I… I don’t understand.” The gears were visibly turning in Bly’s head, processing the impossibility of their predicament. “It can’t be. I’m a clone, Aayla, I’m…” He gestured vaguely. “I can’t. I can’t have children; that’s what they always said. That’s what we are. Sterile.”

The same questions had been rolling around in Aayla’s mind since she had received the news. She tried not to take offense to his panic and disbelief, considering she had reacted similarly to Cailyn. This child was more than an unexpected gift; it spelled danger for both of them, Bly especially. 

“Bly.” Aayla covered his hand with her own. “I know what the rumors say. I assumed it to be true as much as you did. But I am pregnant, and I know of only one way that could’ve happened.” 

“You’re saying…” Bly’s eyes fell to her stomach, which was still as flat as it had always been. “That’s my--” His voice broke. “I have a baby? That’s my baby?”

It was difficult to gage what Bly was thinking, considering his near-hysterical emotional state. No matter his reaction, Aayla couldn’t help but feel warm inside at hearing those words. 

“It’s your baby, Bly.”

Overwhelmed, Bly had to turn his face away. He couldn’t speak for several seconds, and when he was able to find his voice, it was heavy with pure emotion. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry, I just….” A shaky hand came up to press against Bly’s wet eyes. “That’s my baby. I have a baby. That’s… our baby.” He looked up, startled, as if he hadn’t considered that before. “Our baby, Aayla.” 

“Yes, it is.” Aayla brought his hands to her lips. “You’re going to be a father.” 

Aayla laughed when she was suddenly engulfed by two strong, loving arms, holding her tight and rocking her as Bly buried his tear-streaked face in her neck. All of her worry, all of her guilt, and all of her shame melted away the moment he had her in his embrace. In its place was unadulterated joy, the kind that couldn’t be banished by any amount of hurt or fear. 

“You’re so incredible,” Bly mumbled against Aayla’s skin. “I love you so much. I love our baby, too, I love him already.” 

“Him? What if it’s a girl?” Aayla teased, threading her fingers through his buzzed hair so she could soothingly scratch at his skull. “You’ve only ever been around boys.” 

“A girl?” Bly pulled back to look at her contemplatively. “You think it will be?”

“Maybe.” Aayla shrugged. “We don’t know the sex yet. Would you be disappointed if it was?” 

“No, hell no!” Bly exclaimed. “Can I…?” His hands drifted towards her midsection. Obligingly, Aayla laid down, and Bly lifted up her shirt so he could lay his cheek down on her bare stomach.

“There’s a baby in there.” 

“Your baby,” Aayla repeated, which caused a giant, goofy grin to break out across Bly’s face. 

“My baby.” Bly stayed still for a few seconds, his face scrunched up in absolute focus. “How come I can’t feel him yet? Or her? How long does it take to grow a baby, anyway?” 

Aayla bit her lip to stifle a laugh. It was a fair question, and coming from Bly, a completely innocent one. He had never been around a pregnant person before. He himself hadn’t even been born, nor did he have a mother or father. There was much that Bly had yet to experience. 

“The baby is very small right now. Probably not even the size of your finger,” Aayla said. “But they grow quickly. The gestation period for humanoid species is typically about nine months.” 

Bly stared at his hand in wonder. “It grows that much in nine months? Or--” He sucked in a breath. “What if our baby has my screwed-up DNA?” 

“Oh.” Aayla’s lips parted in surprise.“I didn’t consider that. Our baby could grow twice as fast. I’m not sure I could handle that.” 

“I’ll take care of you.” Bly leaned in and kissed down her stomach reverently. “No matter what happens, I’ll take care of you. I won’t abandon you.”

Jedi were supposed to be masters of their emotions, but Aayla found herself with wet eyes nonetheless. “I was so scared when I found out,” she whispered. “I had never felt so alone. I felt like I failed you, and our men, and everyone around me.” 

“I know this might not align with your Jedi values,” Bly said. “But that doesn’t matter to me. Having a family is something I never thought was possible. Now that it might be… I can’t see how something so amazing could be wrong.” 

“Generally, having a family means leaving the Order.” Aayla pursed her lips. “I don’t know if that’s what I want. All I know is that I do love you, and our child, regardless of what the others might say.” 

“You don’t have to decide now.” Bly scooted up the bed to press their foreheads in the most intimate embrace, even more so than when they were in the midst of passion. “I’m scared too. I don’t know what’s going to happen.” 

“No, but we will find a way,” Aayla said firmly. “Even if we need to ask for help.” 

Bly quirked an eyebrow. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Aayla sighed, regretting her words before they came out. It was risky, but no more so than their relationship, or keeping this baby. They had few options. The pregnancy wouldn’t stay a secret forever, not once Aayla’s body began to change. And then there was the matter of the baby itself, which would be arriving in a maximum of seven months. There was no denying that eventually, they would need someone on their side, both to assist them in keeping this quiet and to help them prepare for what was going to happen. It was just a question of who they could trust. Even if it would be painful, Aayla knew the answer.

“Well… I have an idea of who we can ask.” 

Chapter Text

Over the next day, they formed a plan. 

At the forefront of both of their minds was Aayla’s health. Neither of them were particularly knowledgeable about pregnancy. Bly knew next to nothing, and it wasn’t surprising to discover that Aayla hadn’t learned much during her sheltered time at the Temple. Quinlan hadn’t had the forethought to teach her anything besides how not to get pregnant, which wasn’t of any use to them at this point. 

Besides the holonet, Bly and Aayla’s only immediate source for knowledge was Cailyn. As a Temple healer, her primary goal was to assist the Jedi in all their medical needs. She had promised Aayla complete confidentiality and discretion after the first appointment. She hardly batted an eye when Aayla confessed that the father was human, and she was worried about potential complications with the pregnancy. Instead, Cailyn had suggested that Aayla could bring the father along next time, and they could perform an ultrasound to ensure the baby was healthy and developing normally. 

That was how Bly ended up with Aayla in a private room in the medical wing, holding her hand as they both anxiously awaited Cailyn’s arrival. 

“I can hear you worrying from over here, Bly.” Aayla sent an affectionate, calming smile over to him. “I think you’re even more nervous than I am.” 

The rapid tapping of Bly’s foot cut off when he realized he’d been caught. His eyes widened, and he looked at her in slight fear. 

“You can hear my thoughts?” 

“No.” Aayla stifled her laughter. “It’s just an expression. I can see how worried you are.” 

“Oh.” Bly’s shoulders dropped, and he let out a tiny sigh. “You said we would hear the baby’s heartbeat today. I just keep wondering about what will happen if we don’t. If the baby isn’t healthy. I know human and Twi’lek couplings aren’t uncommon, but there are still complications. I want our baby to be okay.” 

“She will be.” Aayla had taken to calling their baby ‘she’ to tease Bly, who was only slightly panicked at the idea of raising a daughter when he had grown up almost entirely surrounded by men. 

“Or he,” Bly responded offhandedly. “Do we get to know the gender today?” 

“No. It’s too early,” Aayla said regretfully. She was just as excited to know the gender of their baby as Bly was. “We won’t know for another month or two.” 

Bly nodded and gripped her hand a little tighter. “No matter what the gender is, I hope they look like you.” 

“Oh? Why’s that?” Aayla asked curiously. Bly’s reply was too genuine and innocent for her to take it as a joke, even if it was meant to be one.

“Because you’re gorgeous.” 

A soft knock at the door distracted both of them from thoughts about their baby’s gender. Aayla called for Cailyn to come in, and she stepped inside a moment later. 

“Ah, you must be the father.” Cailyn shook Bly’s hand warmly. “I’m Cailyn. It’s very nice to meet you.” 

“Bly.” Bly returned her handshake. “I appreciate you keeping this quiet.” 

“My place isn’t to judge. I only want what’s best for my patient. Both of my patients.” The implications of Cailyn’s words made Bly’s heart flutter all over again. 

“Still, I know how this must seem. Aayla’s a Jedi, and I’m...” Bly faltered. “This is an unusual circumstance.” 

“It only matters to me in regard to your baby’s health.” Cailyn took a seat by Aayla and started to set up her equipment. “I understand you were concerned about the growth of your baby.” At Aayla’s nod, Cailyn continued. “As far as I can tell, your baby’s growth is on a normal trajectory. It’s not impossible that the father’s accelerated aging would be passed on, but I’m not well-versed in that. Considering the date of your last period, which was eight weeks ago, I would surmise that the embryo has chronologically and physically matured six weeks. We will know more after a few more weeks, but I see no cause for concern.” 

Both Aayla and Bly relaxed at her words. “Good,” Aayla said. “I’m not sure how I would feel about growing a baby twice as fast. I’m already nervous about the birth, and it’s more than seven months away.” 

“It’s perfectly natural to be nervous,” Cailyn assured her. “I was every time, even after my third.” 

Aayla couldn’t hide the startled look on her face. “But you’re so young!” 

Cailyn merely smiled, unoffended by her surprise. “My husband is an officer in the Republic Military. We didn’t want to wait,” she explained. “I have three. Two boys and a girl. No plans to have more, thankfully.” 

“It makes me feel better to know you have been through this as well,” Aayla admitted. “I’ve been quite worried. Bly as well. Neither of us know much about this.” 

“That’s why I’m here.” Cailyn rested a hand on the bed by Aayla’s. “How about we start with the ultrasound? Since the baby is still quite small, it will have to be a transvaginal ultrasound like we discussed.” 

Bly’s face screwed up in confusion. “A trans…?” 

“It’s a wand that is inserted into the vagina,” Caily clarified. Bly blanched when she showed it to him. 

“That has to go into her vagina? Does it hurt?” 

Aayla patted Bly’s hand to comfort him. “I’ve had similar medical procedures. It’s not comfortable, but I’ll be alright.” 

“If you’re sure.” Bly eyed the wand warily. 

Cailyn paused before she lifted the sheet covering Aayla’s lower half. “Would you like Bly to stay for the procedure?” 

“Yes,” Aayla said. She focused on relaxing as Cailyn finished setting up. 

“This may be a bit uncomfortable,” Cailyn said apologetically. Bly couldn’t see what she was doing down there, but he didn’t doubt her words. “If you feel pain at any time and need to stop, let me know.” 

“I’m fine.” Aayla nodded. “Go ahead.” 

Aayla showed no signs of discomfort besides a slightly pinched look on her face. Bly held her hand through the entire ordeal as Cailyn got the wand into position. There was a dark screen turned towards them, and Cailyn monitored it until a homogenous blob of shapes began to appear. 

“Ah, here we are. Everything is looking quite good so far. If you can see that shape near the middle, the one that is long and slightly round, a little darker than the others, that is the gestational sac. And inside that is the yolk sac, which provides nutrients to the embryo at this stage. I can see the fetal pole right on the edge. It’s all developing very well.” 

Despite Bly’s best efforts, no amount of squinting could make that blob look like a baby. He snuck at glance at Aayla, who was watching the screen with a surprisingly tender look on her face. He couldn’t help but melt. 

“That’s our baby.” 

“Yes.” Aayla looked down at Cailyn. “What about the heartbeat?” 

“I am picking up a heartbeat,” Cailyn told her. “Would you like to hear it?” 

There was no question. With her free hand, Cailyn adjusted the settings on the machine she was using, and suddenly the soft whump whump whump filled the space. 

Aayla let out a ragged exhale when the first beat of their baby’s heart reached her. It was overwhelming. Here was incontrovertible proof of the life growing inside her, that she and Bly had created together. Bly’s face was solemn, but Aayla could feel him through the Force; all his relief and pride and joy. There was no person she would rather experience this with than him. 

Cailyn eased the wand out soon after. Aayla tried not to think about how many more procedures she would have to endure, and how much more painful the process of giving birth would actually be. Once she was covered up and the equipment had been set aside, Cailyn sat back down with them to talk. 

“Everything is looking just fine. Your baby is very healthy. I’d like to see you again in a few weeks for a follow-up, Aayla.” 

Aayla glanced at Bly, who shared the same concern as her. “We’re supposed to deploy in four days. I’m not sure what I’m going to do about that yet.” 

“I understand. I will caution you that extreme physical and mental stress could have adverse effects,” Cailyn said gently, to which Aayla gave a resigned sigh. 

“We’re still discussing our options. I want this baby. We both do. We’re just not sure what to do.” 

“I’ll assist you as best I can. As I said before, I’ll keep what we’ve discussed discrete.” Cailyn stood and collected her datapad. “Please, contact me with any questions or if you’d like to set up another appointment.” 

“I will. Thank you.” Aayla waited until Cailyn was gone to turn to Bly. “What do you think?” 

“There must be something that can be done.” Bly gathered Aayla’s clothes and handed them to her so she could get dressed. “I know we discussed…” 

“It’s our best option. I’m not sure how it will go over either. But he can help us.” Aayla pushed the sheet aside and got up to pull on her leggings. “It would be best if I talked to him alone.” 

“Right.” Bly watched her step into her boots and grabbed his bucket from the floor. He had chosen to dress in full armor so he could retain the image of professionalism in case anyone questioned them. “He’ll be pissed at me. I’ll be surprised if all of my bits are still attached to my body by the end of the day.” 

A small smirk twitched at the corners of Aayla’s mouth. “Oh, I have no doubt he’ll have some words to say to me. But he knows I’m an adult that’s capable of making her own decisions. If he doesn’t, I’ll remind him.” 

They left the medbay, careful to avoid standing too close or speaking too familiarly once they were outside. Bly lingered for a moment before he left Aayla. He had his own problems to address, but he hated leaving her for any length of time now. 

“You’ll contact me tonight?” 

“Of course. Let me know how it goes with them.” Aayla hummed curiously. “Who do you think will take it the worst?” 

“Cody’s going to kill me.” Bly shoved his bucket on his head. “I just got word that Wolffe and the 104th landed early. I’m going to have a hell of a day.” 

“As will I.” Aayla reached out to touch his gauntlet briefly before they pulled apart. It was time for her own reckoning. 

Quinlan was already waiting for Aayla in the Temple gardens when she arrived. It was a beautiful day on Coruscant, clear and breezy, and neither of them wanted to waste it. Quinlan had taken the opportunity to spread out in the soft milk grass and bask in the warmth of the sunlight filtering through the overhanging trees. 

Though Quinlan didn’t open his eyes to greet her, Aayla knew he could sense her presence. She sat down in the grass next to him, surreptitiously looking over her shoulder. Hardly anyone ever came this way, but she had to be sure. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to be overheard. 

“I’m glad I got to see you again before I left.” Quinlan opened his eyes and rolled his head to the side to look at her. “I didn’t want to leave things how they were yesterday.” 

A pang of disappointment filled Aayla’s chest despite her embarrassment at Quinlan’s comment. “You’re leaving?” 

“Soon,” Quinlan said vaguely. “Duty calls.” 

“I understand.” Aayla ran her fingers through the grass beneath her, the blades tickling her skin. “I should apologize about yesterday. It was inappropriate.” 

Quinlan snorted and waved her off. “My fault. I shouldn’t have stuck my nose in your business.”

“It’s already forgotten.” Aayla fell silent for a moment. She could sense Quinlan’s curiosity and concern in the Force, and she was certain she was projecting the anxiety she was feeling, so she eased into the topic on both of their minds before Quinlan could question her. 

“I talked to the healer again today. I’m not ill. At least not in the way you think I am.” 

Quinlan sat up and hooked his elbows over his knees. “Okay. So it was good news, then.” 

Aayla’s hum turned into a quiet chuckle. “I think you could say that, yes. I’m not sure you’ll feel that way.” 

“You were never one to play mind games, Aayla.” Quinlan nudged her. “What is it?” 

“You know that I trust you implicitly. That’s why I feel comfortable coming to you now.” 

Despite the uncertainty and fear that had been plaguing Aayla since the discovery, she felt a small thrum of excitement run through her. Quinlan wasn’t just a mentor, a friend, or a Jedi Master; he was the closest thing Aayla had ever had to a father, and the only person in the galaxy except Bly that she felt wholly safe around. All she had ever wanted was to make him proud. Telling Quinlan this news, while daunting, was still important to her. She hoped he would be proud even if this wasn’t the path he had anticipated for her. She hoped he would listen to her without judgement. Most of all, she hoped he would accept her, as he always had, and banish her worries with comforting reassurances. 

“I’m pregnant, Quinlan. That’s what’s been making me ill. I’m going to have a baby.” 

Quinlan stared at her in muted shock for what seemed like an eternity. For him, it was; Quinlan Vos had no ‘mute’ button, not that Aayla knew of, and yet here he was, mouth gaping like a fish with not a peep to be heard from him. 

“You… what?” Quinlan finally croaked. “Is this a joke? Who put you up to this?” 

Aayla shook her head and gave his arm a comforting squeeze. “Reach out into the Force. You know what I’m telling you is true.” 

There was no need; Quinlan knew she was being honest the moment he searched her face. She had never been good at lying, not to him. All at once, joy, horror, and worry broke over him, sending Quinlan into a state of confusion. 

“Who? When did this happen? Why—” Quinlan suddenly cut off, and his face hardened into a stony mask unlike anything Aayla had seen before. “Did someone hurt you? Who did this?” 

“Hurt me? Oh, no. No. Quinlan. Quin.” The soft repetition of his nickname, the one that only those closest to him used, helped quell the burning embers of rage that had been stoked inside him.

“No one hurt me,” Aayla told him firmly. “Everything that happened was completely of my own volition. No one took advantage of me.” 

“Who was it?” Quinlan demanded. He had relaxed somewhat, but he was still tensed like he was gearing up for a fight. “Even if you said yes, if it was coercion, or one of the Masters did something to you—”

“I appreciate your concern,” Aayla interrupted, a small smile playing across her lips. It was amusing to see Quinlan posture like a disgruntled Nexu trying to protect its young, even with the gravity of the situation. “But I promise you that they were consensual encounters. And the father isn’t a Jedi.” 

“Oh.” Quinlan blinked. He was still working through it all, still processing her words with that look he got when he was pouring over a particularly complex battle strategy. “Wait, encounters? More than one?”

“Yes,” Aayla confirmed. “Encounters. With a man that I love deeply. It may not be the Jedi way, but…” She let out a long breath. “I’m beginning to accept that it might be my way.”

Quinlan regarded her skeptically. “You seem hesitant to tell me who this man is.” 

“Only because I know how you are.” Aayla glanced over her shoulder again, a precaution she didn’t need considering she could sense that no one was nearby through the Force, but it made her feel better nonetheless. “It happened while I was deployed. He did not take advantage of me, nor I, him. Commander Bly is a good man, and he and I have already discussed at length—”

“Commander Bly?” Quinlan blurted out. “A clone? The father is a clone?” He was fighting to keep his voice low, but his shock was obvious. 

Aayla’s mouth twisted. Her guard was already up. “I know your feelings.” This wasn’t the first time Quinlan had made comments about the clones, expressing his dislike for them and comparing them to droids or sentient weapons. 

“This is big news, Aayla; I’m sure you can understand why I’m surprised.” There was an edge to Quinlan’s voice that Aayla didn’t like. 

“Bly is a good man.” Aayla held Quinlan’s gaze, refusing to back down. “I care for him deeply. And regardless of how you feel about clones, he’s still the father of my child.” 

Quinlan’s lips were pursed in an unhappy flat line. “I respect the decisions you make. But this has implications beyond you. Aside from the obvious, the war… Issues surrounding clones’ rights have been coming up more and more lately.” 

“I’m aware. I can assure you, this wasn’t planned.” 

It was easy for Aayla to let a small tendril of distress slip out from behind the shielding she so carefully maintained, hoping to make Quinlan understand why she was coming to him. His sensitivity to the Force was higher than most, especially with someone as close to him as Aayla. She could see the moment he was humbled by her emotion.

“I’m sorry.” Quinlan closed his eyes and bowed his head, finally releasing his stubbornness into the Force. “I reacted strongly. It was only out of concern. I do respect Commander Bly. My views on the clones have…. changed lately.” 

“Many of us have been humbled by the war. Until Bly, I wasn’t sure what to think either. But we worked closely together for so long, and I came to appreciate his skills and intelligence. Eventually, I realized he had feelings for me.” Aayla recalled that moment fondly. “A few poorly-timed jokes on Lucky and Cameron’s part confirmed my suspicions. Bly was utterly distraught. He came to me, insisting on a transfer since he felt that he couldn’t carry out his duties as a Commander anymore. I convinced him to stay. Our relationship grew from there. At the time, I didn’t think of it as improper because I was sure I would be able to let him go when the time came. I was wrong.”

“Attachments are tricky, aren’t they?” Quinlan’s tone was wistful, like he knew from experience. Though she knew more than she would’ve liked, Aayla didn’t know everything about his personal life. She had her suspicions, of course, but nothing she could ever prove.

“I felt very alone,” Aayla confessed. Emotion welled up in her eyes as she stared at the clumps of red and white poppies swaying in the gentle breeze around them. “I was isolated on deployments. The majority of my men are clones, and we were taught to keep our distance. I never fit in with the officers, either. Jedi aren’t built for war. But I became a general, and suddenly hundreds of men were looking to me for guidance. For a time, I was lost. I wasn’t sure who I was supposed to be. A general, a Jedi, a warrior, a peacekeeper… The lines are so blurred out there.”

“I haven’t been on the front lines of this war like you have,” Quinlan said. “But I can say that many Jedi have gone through what you have. Maybe I didn’t do a great job of showing my own faults and weaknesses as your Master. I struggled with the same feelings of confusion and loneliness under Master Tholme. He was very guarded. I felt he was too restrictive, that he didn’t allow me to explore myself and understand my emotions when I was young. Since then…” Quinlan’s smile was bitter. “I overcompensate, I think. Emotions are complicated. The Order wants to present them as so black and white, but they’re not.”

“Master Tholme was not especially known for his displays of emotion. What was it he always said? ‘Careful not to show your heart on your face, my young Padawan,’” Aayla deadpanned in her best impression of Master Tholme. Quinlan threw his head back and barked out a laugh. 

“Oh, Maker. I still have no idea what he meant by that.”

“I wish I did. Something about being too expressive, maybe?”

“Something like that.” Quinlan sighed. “You know I will support you no matter what happens.”

Aayla’s relief and affection was almost tangible through the remnants of their bond, which had never fully broken even after she had forced herself to leave him. “I hoped you would. I need your help, Quin. My battalion is deploying in four days with no way of telling when we might return. I’m not fit to lead them in my condition. But the war effort needs more troops. We can’t afford for me to be out of commission.”

“Other Jedi could take your place. Skywalker had to call in a replacement when he was recalled from Umbara,” Quinlan pointed out. “It’s not uncommon.”

Aayla cringed when she was reminded of that time. Quinlan had been away and hadn’t heard what happened, but she had been there when Bly had received the news. Helping him through his period of mourning had been one of the reasons Aayla had become so close to him. “That particular situation doesn’t inspire much confidence in me, but I do agree that is the best case scenario. Captain Rush is capable of taking Bly’s place temporarily. But I won’t be allowed to stay on Coruscant without good reason.”

“That is a predicament,” Quinlan agreed. “If there were an essential mission on Coruscant that required you to take over, you might have an excuse.”

“The only mission I know of is Master Kenobi’s. That’s the reason he and Marshal Commander Cody are on Coruscant.” Aayla’s brows furrowed. “But I don’t even know the nature of his mission. It’s been very hush-hush.”

“Couldn’t tell you. But I know who could.” Quinlan grinned and tapped the comm unit on his wrist. He would never pass up on an opportunity to annoy his old friend. At Aayla’s nod, he switched on his comm unit and typed in a sequence of numbers. 

“Hey, Kenobi!”

Obi-Wan’s shimmering blue form appeared in the hand-held projector cradled in Quinlan’s palm. “I hope the nature of this call is urgent. I’m quite busy.”

“Of course, of course! When are you not?” Quinlan leaned back in the grass on his other hand. Aayla stayed just out of range of the projector so Obi-Wan couldn’t see her, but she could still watch their interaction. “Actually, this is about work.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan’s disbelief was evident through the comm. “Do tell.”

“I was wondering how long you’d be on Coruscant,” Quinlan asked casually. “Seems like you’re on some top-secret assignment. I’m a little hurt. Usually I’m the expert on espionage.”

“It’s hardly top-secret,” Obi-Wan said, amused now. “Cody and I are tracking a Separatist informant who supposedly has information about an attack that Grevious is planning. I planned to call Anakin back to Coruscant to assist in the investigation, but he and his men are tied up at Ringo Vinda.”

Quinlan’s eyes flashed in a way that meant he was already formulating a plan. “Too bad for Skywalker. Does that mean you’re looking for assistance?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Quinlan, I don’t think you and I would work well together on this.”

“Not me,” Quinlan said. “Aayla. Her and Commander Bly are on Coruscant on leave right now. They’re deploying soon, but I’m sure a temporary replacement could be found for her while she helps you out.”

Obi-wan tilted his head in consideration. “There are plenty of others who could assist me without needing to remove Aayla from her command.” 

“But none of them are as skilled in tracking and espionage as she is. She learned from the best,” Quinlan said smugly, prompting Obi-Wan to roll his eyes. 

“Naturally. I’ll contact her. I doubt this mission will last more than a few weeks, but her assistance would be greatly appreciated. By the way, you might think to check on her soon. She seemed distressed last I spoke to her.” 

Obi-Wan’s kindness made Aayla soften, while Quinlan took offense. 

“What, you think I can’t take care of my own Padawan? Go check on Skywalker. He’s probably getting his head blown off on some hair-brained mission.” 

“Goodbye, Quinlan.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Obi-Wan’s image disappeared from the comm. Aayla smiled gratefully at Quinlan, who tucked the comm away in his belt. 

“Thank you.”

“I only bought you a week or two,” Quinlan warned. “It’s not a long-term solution.” 

“I know. But it gives me time to consider my options.” Aayla watched as Quinlan stood, and she accepted his hands to help her up. “I appreciate your help.” 

“I appreciate that you trust me. I know I didn’t react well initially,” Quinlan said. “But I’ll be here for whatever you need.” 

“Of course.” Turning, Aayla fell into step beside Quinlan as they headed back inside the Temple. There was still much that was unknown, but now that she and Bly could take a moment to breathe and think about what they wanted to do, she felt confident for the first time in days. “You know, I’m very anxious to hear about those ‘tricky attachments’ you mentioned one day.” 

Quinlan groaned. “I’m not going to hear the end of that, am I?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

Chapter Text

PRIVATE MESSAGE 

CC-3636: what the hell did Bly do

CC-1010: what are you talking about 

CC-3636: you didn’t get his message? 

CC-1010: I ignored it. I’m at work. 

CC-3636: better get down here. He says it’s important. 

CC-1010: doesn’t anyone besides me work around here? 

“Is he coming?” Bly stared at Wolffe impatiently. “I’ve been comming him for more than an hour.” 

Wolffe glanced at the comm unit on his wrist. “He says--”

CC-1010: this better be important or that bastard is doing my paperwork for the rest of the time he’s on leave. You think I get leave? I barely get a break to go take a shit.

“He’s on his way.” 

“Good,” Bly murmured. His clumsy fingers searched his belt, coming up with a cleaning rag, which he used to mop the sweat from his brow. Cody, who was reclining on the bunk next to Bly, exchanged a glance with Wolffe.

“You seem nervous.” 

Bly’s tapping foot ceased, and he shot a mildly annoyed look at Cody. “I told you this was important. I wouldn’t have called you here if it wasn’t.” 

“No need to be so worried, little brother.” Wolffe reached out to shake Bly’s shoulder affectionately, but Bly swatted him away. 

“We were decanted at the same time, asshole.” 

The door to the barracks suddenly slid open, drawing the attention of the three men within. Fox’s body language as he stalked inside told them he was about as happy to be there as he was to kiss ass to a Senator, but that changed when he saw the state Bly was in. 

“What’s going on?” 

Wolffe made room in the bunk he was sitting on for Fox. Bly and Cody were shoulder to shoulder on the bunk directly adjacent, sitting so they could face the others. The barracks were empty, a testament to how few men wanted to stick around when they were on leave. 

“I have news,” Bly began slowly. His eyes were trained on the floor. He couldn’t look at any of his brothers, not even Cody. Some deep part of him was still ashamed of his actions, and he feared his brothers’ responses. They wouldn’t abandon him, he was sure of that, but their admonishment would hurt almost as much. 

“I could tell something was going on at the bar,” Cody said. He was more sympathetic than Fox or Wolffe, who were still on the impatient side of concern. 

“So tell us what the hell is going on.” Fox leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Are you into some bad shit? If you need me to take care of something, I can. Credits or spice or prostitutes--”

“Maker, Fox.” Bly scrubbed at his flushed cheeks. “It’s nothing like that. You really think I’d get myself into that kind of trouble?” 

“You wouldn’t be the first,” Fox muttered. 

“No. It’s about my General. General Secura,” Bly said. “Listen, brothers. I’m only telling you this because I trust you, and I convinced the General we should trust you too. So don’t make me regret it.” 

“We don’t abandon our brothers,” Wolffe said firmly, sobered by Bly’s uncharacteristically serious expression. “Whatever it is, you tell us, and we handle it together.” 

Fox and Cody murmured their agreement. 

“Right.” Bly’s face twisted for a moment, like he was preparing to jump off a cliff with no chute and no clear view of the bottom. There was no going back now. His feet were already off the edge. 

“General Secura is pregnant. And I’m the father.”

Bly had never heard a silence quite this loud before in his young life. Looking at his brother’s faces, he could see a mix of emotions; disbelief from Cody, disgust and confusion from Fox, and amusement from Wolffe, who wasn’t quite sure if he should take Bly seriously yet. 

“Pregnant? That’s kriffing hilarious, Bly.” Wolffe rolled his eyes. “I think you’re taking the joke too far.” 

Bly’s not-so-secret secret crush on General Secura had long made him the butt of his brothers’ jokes, but no one was laughing now. 

“I’m not kriffing with you, brother.” 

Bly pulled a data pad out of his belt and showed it to the group. Cody had to crane his neck to see. 

“We went to the medical center at the Jedi Temple today. One of the healers knows about the General’s condition. They did a trans--” Bly waved his hand vaguely. “A trans-vagina thing. So we could look at the baby. Apparently he’s healthy. Or she. We don’t know yet.” 

Cody snatched the data pad out of Bly’s hands and quickly scanned the lines of text. When his eyes reached the bottom, he stopped, and he wordlessly handed the pad over to Fox. 

“I don’t think this is a joke.” 

“It has to be,” Wolffe said, his one good eye frantically bouncing back and forth between Cody and Fox. “Come on, I’m not that gullible. What is this?” 

“Cody’s right.” Fox’s fingers came up to massage his temple, a testament to how much his brothers truly made his head hurt. “Bly doesn’t even know enough to make it this realistic, even if he did research on the holonet.” 

Wolffe cursed a streak bluer than Rex’s armor. Bly was doing his best not to look guilty, though that was growing harder by the second with the damning evidence right in front of them. 

“You had sex with General Secura?” Wolffe hissed. Bly swore his cybernetic eye was flashing in the low light. “You-- you krifing moron!” 

“It wasn’t just sex!” Bly defended. His scowl matched Wolffe’s, but his brother wasn’t backing down anytime soon. 

“Yeah? Then how’d she get pregnant?” 

“I love her.” Bly hated how the tips of his ears turned red and his neck grew warm, but he couldn’t help it. It was the first time he had said those words to anyone but her. In here, with his brothers, it all felt terrifyingly real. That was the truth of the matter, after all; Bly was scared, and he needed his brothers to talk some sense into him before he did something really stupid like desert the GAR and run off with his now-pregnant commanding officer. Unfortunately for Bly, his brothers were still two steps behind. 

A collective groan rose up from the group at Bly’s love confession. Cody shook his head and laid a heavy hand on Bly’s shoulder. 

“Brother, you’re in way too deep.” 

“Don’t you think I know that?” Bly brushed Cody’s hand off, irritated. He had anticipated a little bit of ribbing, but their judgemental attitudes were starting to annoy him. Besides, he had a trump card that he still hadn’t played, and he knew it would shut them right up. 

“I haven’t forgotten that I’m not the only one with a little secret to keep.” 

“That’s a completely different situation,” Cody protested at the same time that Fox cut in: 

“How the hell do you know--”

Wolffe was the only one among them that had reason to be smug, but not for long. 

“Quit smirking,” Fox sneered. “You’re not above the rest of us just because you’re not f--”

“Alright, alright!” Cody interrupted loudly just so Fox couldn’t finish that sentence. Wolffe shut up after that. 

“What’s done is done,” Bly said. “There’s no changing it. And I wouldn’t even if I could. I do love her. And she loves me.” 

“That may be true, but you aren’t thinking with your whole head here,” Wolffe argued. “She’s a Jedi. You’re a clone. That’s about the worst combination you could have. What’re you going to do, huh? Run off with her, start a family, and forget the war? You’ll be executed before you get the chance.” 

“I know that. We all do.” Bly looked around at the group, making eye contact with each of his brothers. “But is that what you want? Is that what we deserve? We’re bred to fight and die, and they tell us that’s all we’ll ever be. We’re never even given the chance to want something more than that.” 

“You’re not the only one who’s had these feelings, Bly,” Cody said. “We all have. But we can’t ignore our duty.” 

“That’s not what I want. I’ve never wanted to abandon my responsibilities.” Bly took the data pad back from Fox. His gloved hand stroked over the gray, blobby image which had once looked like nothing more than a speck on a screen. It meant so much more now. “I can’t see why we can’t have both. Why we can’t fulfill our duty, and still be treated like autonomous beings. Why we can’t have a choice.”  

“You know why we can’t.” Fox’s eyes were cast down. “You know.” 

Their existence was nothing short of a miracle. Every aspect of their DNA had been carefully crafted, from their unusual strength to their enhanced aging and their inherent obedience. If they required a reminder, they need only look around; there were a million identical men to reinforce the idea, unthinkingly, unquestioningly. 

And yet. 

Bly still saw himself in the golden tattoos that Aayla loved to kiss first thing in the morning. He saw Cody in the scar beside his eye, and Wolffe in the symbol painted on his armor that represented so much more than him. Fox was in the lines he shaved into the side of his head, and the ill-gotten tattoo Bly knew was right above his ass. Rex was in the bright blond hair that gleamed in the sunlight. Gree, the two lines of red for all their brothers, the ones they lost and mourned for. There were countless others. Ponds. Colt. Neyo. Thorn. Thire. Stone. 

Bly’s own men, whom he could identify from the tiniest voice inflection. 

CC-5052 was a nameless, faceless man. ‘Bly’ was a choice he made every day. As long as he had control of his own mind, no one could take that away. 

“My son or daughter will grow up in a world where they get to make a choice.” Bly’s hand tightened around the data pad. “I won’t let that be taken from them. I don’t care if the road is hard. When have our lives ever been easy, brothers? We can fight for honor and we can fight for ourselves. We just have to make that choice.”

Cody let out a long sigh, taking in the weary expressions of his brothers. “Those are nice words. But we’ve always been men of action, haven’t we?” 

“So what are we going to do?” 

Those simple words, spoken casually by Wolffe, inspired a new hope within Bly. ‘We’ always had more power than ‘one’. But their heads weren’t above the water yet; it just meant more of them could drown. 

“I don’t know what will happen,” Bly said. “But I love Aayla and I love our baby. I’ll continue to fulfill my duty as long as they’ll let me. My priority is keeping them safe and healthy. The best way to do that would be to keep this secret…” He hesitated. “I don’t know how long we could pull that off.” 

“Depending on how long your next deployment is, you probably could,” Fox suggested. “Likely your men would find out, but if she had the baby while away, the Jedi wouldn’t know.” 

“Unless she was recalled, or sent on a special mission, or our deployment became dangerous,” Bly listed. “There are so many factors.” 

Cody set his mouth in a grim line. “It’s a significant risk. But one you may have to take, brother. Unless General Secura is planning on defecting from the Jedi Order. I can’t see that happening.” 

“That isn’t what she wants,” Bly agreed. “Or what I want. Too much is uncertain. But I’ve promised that I’ll stay by her side no matter what. I love her, and she loves me.” 

“Here I thought you weren’t a romantic.” The corner of Wolffe’s mouth lifted in a smirk. “What a sap.” 

Bly’s sarcastic retort died on his tongue when his comm suddenly began to beep and flash. Almost in the same moment, Cody’s comm was set off as well, and they exchanged a glance. 

“General Kenobi is comming me.” 

“General Secura is comming me as well.” Bly nodded at Cody. “You answer first.” 

Cody hit the button on the comm unit attached to his gauntlet. “General.” 

“Cody.” General Kenobi’s voice filtered into the room. “There’s been a new development in our investigation. We should meet to discuss how we want to move forward.” 

“Right away, sir,” Cody said. “I’ll meet you in the tactical operations center.” 

“Very well. Are you with Commander Bly by chance?” 

Cody paused and raised an eyebrow in Bly’s direction. “Yes, sir.” 

“Have him come with you. He and General Secura will be joining us in our investigation.” 

“I’ll pass on the message.” Cody’s comm shut off, and both he and Bly made to stand. “Your General’s doing?” 

Bly just shook his head. He was equally baffled. “Could be. She went to see General Vos. Said he could help us. Maybe this was his way of buying us more time on Coruscant to figure out what to do.”

“The way I see it, you have two options.” Fox tucked his bucket under his arm and fell into step behind Cody and Bly as they walked the length of the barracks. Wolffe trailed not far behind. “Either you decide to go public with this and face the consequences, or you find a way for her to have this child in secret. Likely on a deployment.” 

“Neither is a good option. But like you said.” Wolffe shoved his bucket back onto his head as they exited the barracks. “When have our lives ever been easy?” 

They split up outside the barracks, Cody and Bly heading to the tactical operations center, while Fox returned to work and Wolffe left for his own barracks. Cody and Bly fell into an easy silence as they walked, buckets tucked under their arms casually. No one was around this early in the afternoon. They were either working, or sleeping, or enjoying a day out in the city. It was just the two of them now. No matter how long it had been since they were together like this, they could always fall back into the comfortable familiarity of being with the brother that knew them better than anyone. 

“Fox thinks I’m an idiot,” Bly said, breaking the silence. “Wolffe, probably the same.” 

Cody gave a loose shrug. “Maybe. Fox doesn’t have any room to talk.” 

“You think the rumors are true about him?” Bly asked, an amused smile on his face. 

“You think the rumors are true about me?” 

Bly chuckled lowly and fell out of step to nudge Cody in the side, hard. “Who do you think started ‘em?” 

Cody watched the endless hallways of gray and white pass by them, identical men behind identical doors in identical barracks. A man with 327th markings on his armor poked his head out of one of the rooms, but Bly waved him off. Neither of them were in the mood for distractions.

“It gets lonely out there. You wouldn’t think so, not with so many brothers around you, but it does.” 

Bly glanced briefly at Cody. His expression had gone solemn and contemplative like it did when he was lost within himself. “That’s how it happened for me. For us. The days weighed on both of us. So many men lost, in the blink of an eye. You started to feel lost too. Like there was no one you could turn to, and you could only depend on yourself. And we had to keep going, always, a constant battle. No room for reprieve. Until… well. She became my reprieve.” 

“Was it…” Cody’s face scrunched, a question on his lips he couldn’t quite ask. “Better, after?” 

“Yes.” No hesitation. Bly knew where he stood. “Loving her is the best part of me. She makes me feel whole. She makes me feel… safe. Wanted. Like I mean something outside this war. Like I could be something more than just CC-5052. She doesn’t see that. She sees me.” 

“You know that’s not the way it is with us,” Cody started, but Bly shook his head. 

“I know we see each other as more than that. As individuals. But the nat borns don’t. There are even some within our own ranks that don’t think of themselves as more than fodder. It matters to me. She matters to me, more than anyone ever has. Well…” Bly’s voice went soft and fond. “Maybe that’ll change soon.” 

Cody knocked his gauntlet against Bly’s affectionately. Bly didn’t need to look to see the smile on his face. “I want to meet him. When he’s here. You’ve got your own little shiny to deal with now, brother.” 

“Or her,” Bly said thoughtfully, and they grinned at each other. 

The elevator at the end of the hall opened up for them when they approached. They stood side by side and watched the world fly by as they ascended into Coruscant's clouds. 

“How’d you know you were in love?” Cody asked suddenly. The question was unexpected, and Bly stayed quiet for a few moments thinking about it. 

“I don’t think I knew until I said it. I didn’t really know what love was. It’s different, love between us as brothers, and loving her. I didn’t really know the difference until she started talking about what I meant to her and she asked what my feelings were. And I just said it. It felt right.” Bly reached up to scratch his chin. “I guess love is… not knowing what you’d do without her. It’s this warm feeling you get every time you’re around her. Like endless happiness. Like nothing else matters if you get to be with her. That’s love.” 

“And how did you know…” Cody’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, nervous. He wasn’t looking at Bly; he just stared out the elevator windows at the sun, low in the sky. “How’d you know she loved you back?” 

Bly huffed out a soft laugh. “I didn’t. Saying I loved her… it was like that moment when your gunship’s about to crash and you aren’t sure if you should jump out or just let it take you. I had no idea what she would say. But it was worth it, to even think she might love me back. Love, to me, is not caring if she feels the same way. I knew I’d love her anyway, and I wouldn’t stop loving her. I couldn’t even if I tried.” 

“You make it sound easy.” Cody made to put his bucket back on. They were almost at their destination. “I guess loving them’s not the hard part, huh? Just… them not loving you back.” 

“I guess so,” Bly said slowly, shoving his bucket back on when the elevator came to a stop. “Why do you ask?”

Cody just stood mutely, rigid and unmoving, until the elevator doors slid open. Bly shut his trap when he saw what was waiting for them. Aayla stood next to General Kenobi, looking more calm and collected than when Bly had left her. Their new assignment must’ve been General Vos’s doing. He may not have been Bly’s favorite person to deal with, but he got things done. 

“Gentlemen.” Kenobi inclined his head at both of them. “We have much to discuss. Please, if you’ll join us.” 

It was only because Bly fell in behind Cody as they walked that he saw the way Kenobi’s hand brushed Cody’s when they fell into step. Kenobi guided him with a gentle pressure on his lower back, subtle but sure. Cody, for his part, walked stiffly, his head held high, and his fists clenched by his side. It was unnerving to see two wholly different reactions; Cody’s defense to Kenobi’s tenderness. 

Only to Bly was their awkwardness recognizable, since he had experienced it himself, before the dam between he and Aayla broke and their passion spilled over. But back then, they had the opportunity to take it slow, figure each other out and explore what they meant to one another. 

Bly would give his brother the same chance, if he could. 

Chapter Text

The retching sounds coming from the ‘fresher were increasing in both frequency and volatility. A knot of guilt tightened in Bly’s chest as he ransacked the main room, looking for a suitable piece of cloth that could be wetted to soothe Aayla’s overheated face and neck. She had been like this for most of the morning, bent over the toilet in the ‘fresher, gagging and coughing up what little water and medicine she had been able to swallow. 

Even though Bly knew her pain wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t help but wish to take away the misery she had been experiencing over the past several days. Her morning sickness was only getting worse, even with the medication Cailyn gave her, and Bly’s concern for her health increased every day. Cailyn reassured them that their baby was healthy, but all Bly could see was Aayla’s suffering. Surely that couldn’t be normal for a pregnancy, even if neither he nor Aayla knew what ‘normal’ was in this circumstance. 

“Bly…” Aayla called out softly from the ‘fresher, snapping him out of his whirlwind thoughts. Bly snatched up an old shirt of his and rushed to the sink to wet it. Kneeling beside her, Bly placed the cool cloth against her flushed face, hoping to provide a small amount of relief. 

“Any better?” Bly’s other hand came up to rub Aayla’s back soothingly. 

“Not much,” Aayla replied, leaning her cheek into his hand. “But I think the worst of it is over.”

“You look pale,” Bly fussed, gently mopping down her sweaty forehead. “I should tell General Kenobi you’re ill. You shouldn’t be going out on a mission in this condition.” 

“While I appreciate your concern for me…” Aayla patted Bly’s hand and sent him a weak, but determined, smile. “I won’t allow this to keep me from my duty while I’m still able. Here. Help me up.” 

Bly stood and grasped Aayla’s hands. In an impressive show of strength, he lifted her almost single-handedly to her feet, and she squeezed his hand to show her thanks. 

“I would kiss you in gratitude, but I think it would be most polite to rinse my mouth first.” 

Any humor Bly might have felt was overwhelmed by worry for Aayla, who seemed far too nonchalant about the seriousness of her condition. “It’s not my discomfort I’m worried about.”

Aayla finished washing her face and mouth thoroughly before straightening to face Bly. She was taking a slightly more casual approach, she knew, but she was no less concerned than he was. There was a time and place for that concern. Five minutes before they were supposed to be meeting Obi-Wan and Commander Cody at the docking platform was not that time. 

“Cailyn assured me that morning sickness is very common. I’m keeping it under control as best I can,” Aayla told Bly as she moved past him and out of the ‘fresher. “I’m perfectly fit for this mission, and when the time comes that I am not, you can be sure I will step down. I know my own limits.”

Bly followed her with that little lost look in his eye, the one he got when he wanted to disagree but was too afraid to offend. “I trust you, Aayla, it’s not that. I worry for the baby.”

“The baby is strong. If I thought our mission would harm her, I wouldn’t have agreed to it,” Aayla countered. “It’s only reconnaissance. Besides, I trust Master Kenobi. If we were in a dire situation, I know I could rely on him. And you, of course.” She turned, picking up the red and white bucket sitting on her bed. “Now, the longer we stand here debating this, the later we will be.”

Gloved hands reached out to take the bucket from her, but Aayla playfully pulled it away. Realizing what she wanted, Bly ducked his head and let his eyes slip shut. Warmth and fondness washed over him in the intimate moment as Aayla reached up, positioning his bucket just right, and pushed down until the seals at his neck clicked into place. Her hand lingered on the side of his bucket, cradling it, for just a moment too long. 

“Shall we?”

Cody and Obi-Wan were waiting for them at the docking platform. Out of politeness, Cody stood close to his General, but Bly knew his brother well enough to sense something was wrong. The unnatural stiffness in his posture and the way he glanced around periodically, at anything other than the General, spoke of a discomfort Bly wasn’t used to seeing in a confident, self-assured Marshal Commander. He made a mental note to dig into Cody and figure out what was wrong with him when they could steal away the time. Never had Bly seen Cody hold in his feelings on an important matter, and if he was clamming up like this, it must be more serious than Bly had originally thought. 

Questions danced in Obi-Wan’s eyes when he saw the state Aayla was in, combined with their lateness, but he said nothing. He simply nodded politely at both Aayla and Bly and turned to lead them to their transports: speeder bikes. 

As they walked, Bly was forced to reach down to adjust the uncomfortable thigh gauntlets digging into the crease where his hips met his legs. Unlike his own armor, these were stiff and unyielding, not yet molded to his body. 

“Uh, General Kenobi? If I could ask… why are Cody and I wearing Guard armor? Won’t the target bolt as soon as he sees us?”

“Part of successful reconnaissance is blending into your environment,” Obi-Wan said, moving to straddle his speeder. Cody and Aayla did the same, leaving Bly to awkwardly scramble onto his. “The area our target frequents is a highly-patrolled sector. It may seem counterintuitive, but Vincent Quay is wanted by both the Republic and some rather unsavory characters because of the information he has. Conducting his business under the nose of the Guard is safer than attempting to traverse Coruscant’s underbelly.”

Bly kicked off the platform at the same time as the Generals did, traveling alongside Cody while Obi-Wan led them to their destination. He couldn’t hear Obi-Wan over the rushing of wind as they increased in speed, but they could communicate via comms easily enough.

“That’s why we’re in Guard armor. It would be unusual to see two Commanders patrolling together, but two Guards…”

“Precisely,” Obi-Wan replied. “I trust you reviewed the situation report. Aayla and I will be tracking him from his last known location, while you and Cody will be stationed near the place where he typically conducts business. If you spot Quay or any of his known associates, contact us immediately.”

“Understood, sir.”

Coruscant’s gleaming sun soon became a distant memory as the group descended into the lower levels. One didn’t need to travel far to find areas where the sun’s last rays could not penetrate, even on the brightest days. Bly’s HUD flickered to night mode as they drew closer to the landing zone, a familiar spot. It wasn’t far from the bars some of the GAR-affiliated nat borns liked to frequent. Bly rarely had occasion to visit. Clones were more likely to be spit on than served down here.

Obi-Wan and Aayla split off from Bly and Cody to disembark further down the strip so it wasn’t obvious they were together. Bly waited for Cody to lock their transports to prevent them from being stolen before setting off. It was quiet at this time of day, with the last of the night dwellers crawling back into their shady holes, but Bly still kept his eyes sharp for their target. Any intel they could gather would bring them one step closer to the critical information they were seeking.

Strolling down the strip with rifles in their hands, Cody and Bly passed a few other Guards who paid them no mind. Naturally, Fox had already warned his men of their presence, and they were to be left alone to do their work. Bly’s armor was plain, marking him as a Corrie shiny; he had only two red stripes running down his shoulders, and red detailing on his bucket. Similar to Fox, Cody had the Guard’s crest on one shoulder, with intricate red markings across his chestplate and bucket. It was only natural to take offense.

“How come they made you a Lieutenant and they made me a shiny, huh?”

Bly could hear the smirk in Cody’s voice as he responded, speaking to Bly through the private comm system in their buckets. “Well, it makes sense. I’m Marshal Commander of the 7th Sky Corps. You should think about getting promoted if you want to be the higher rank on an op next time.”

“Oh, that’s bantha shit,” Bly scoffed. “I hold the rank of Marshal Commander too, just like you do. They promoted me when they put me in charge of the 327th Star Corps. What have you got to say to that?”

“I’d ask who they put on the high profile missions more frequently, then,” came Cody’s snarky reply. 

“You’re only there to mop up General Skywalker’s messes half the time. The other half, you’re getting yourself out of a mess Skywalker and Kenobi made.”

“General Kenobi is both an impressive strategist and negotiator. I’d hardly call our missions ‘messes’,” Cody said airly. “Skywalker, sure. If I were Rex, I’d be pulling my hair out.”

“Maybe that’s why he keeps it so short,” Bly mused. “Anyway, with the way you talk about Kenobi, I’d think the two of you were making more than just ‘messes’ together.”

Bly could just barely hear Cody’s sharp inhale through their bucket comms before his brother’s voice came back, cold as ice:

“Don’t joke about that.”

“Come off it, Cody.” Bly snuck a glance at Cody, but his brother was stubbornly staring straight ahead. “If your feelings are obvious to me, they must be to him too. He’s a Jedi. You know they can sense emotions? And thoughts, sometimes?”

“The Force doesn’t work like that.” Cody’s grip tightened imperceptibly on his rifle. “And even if it did, General Kenobi’s too much of a professional to…”

“To… what? Make a mess?” Bly guessed. “If anyone knows how you feel right now, brother, trust me; I do. I was at war with myself for a long time about Aayla. Hell, I even tried to initiate a transfer so as not to risk our professional relationship. She wouldn’t let me, of course. Not until I told her why.”

“I’m not transferring from General Kenobi’s command. Some of us can keep our emotions in check,” Cody snapped, his voice tighter than Bly’s calf muscles after a long ruck in full kit. He couldn’t find it in himself to be offended by Cody’s words. Bly had been equally as testy in the weeks leading up to his confession to General Secura, and he had mouthed off to Lucky and Cameron more than a few times.

“You seem to be doing a great job of it now.”

Cody stayed silent for a long time. Eventually, Bly looked away, focusing instead on their environment so he wouldn’t accidentally miss the target. Just as he was starting to think Cody wasn’t going to respond, something in his brother crumbled. 

“General Kenobi isn’t like General Secura. Things between us… I mean, even if I wanted it, and he wanted it-- It wouldn’t work. It just wouldn’t.”

“I can tell you one thing,” Bly said. “He cares about you, Cody. You should see the way he looks at you-- how he puts a hand on your shoulder or back, for no reason at all… you really don’t think there’s anything there?”

“There can’t be anything there.” Cody’s voice didn't crack, he was too strong for that, but Bly knew him too well. “Like I said, General Kenobi isn’t the same as General Secura. I hope things work out with you and her. But he would never… the Jedi Order is his life. He would sacrifice everything for it.”

“I understand,” Bly said. His eyes surreptitiously scanned the crowd as they talked, but his thoughts were on Cody. “You don’t want to be second to the Order. That was a difficult pill for me to swallow too. Now, everything’s changed.”

“Well, at least I don’t have to worry about that particular problem.”

Bly was glad to note a hint of amusement in Cody’s voice this time. “Got something to say to me about that, little brother? Trust me, it wasn’t something we anticipated either.”

“Little brother?” Cody knocked Bly’s gauntlet with his own. “We’re from the same batch, as you pointed out to Wolffe not long ago."

“And with the way you’re whining about how General Kenobi doesn’t like you back, you’d think you were the younger one.” 

“Hold on.” 

“Oh, you can dish it out but can’t take it? Typical.” 

“No, look-- about twenty paces ahead, to the right. Isn’t that one of Quay’s associates?”

Casually, as though he was doing a routine sweep of the area, Bly turned his head to look in the direction Cody had indicated. They had carefully studied about half a dozen photos, memorizing the faces so as to pick them out in a crowd, and Bly quickly identified the man by several unique features: human male, long hair, pale skin, with a prominent tattoo on his neck. Tattoos like that could only indicate gang affiliation, and by the looks of this man, his ties to Coruscant’s buzzing crime community were significant.

“Comm General Kenobi,” Bly said. “If we manage to snatch this guy up, he might be able to give us better information on our target.”

Obi-Wan responded right away, his voice filtering through the comms in their buckets. With how dense the crowd was becoming, it would be several minutes until he could get to their location, which presented a new challenge. Cody and Bly would have to keep their eyes on their man to ensure he didn’t slip away. They couldn’t be too obvious at risk of alerting him to their presence, so they trailed him from comfortably far behind, and watched as he entered one of the corner shops on the main street.

“He’s gone into the corner shop by the bar, General. Do you want us to go in?”

“Standby, Cody. I see where he is. This won’t take more than a minute.”

Two hooded figures appeared near the entrance, slipping in after the man nearly unnoticed. To appear occupied, Bly and Cody pretended to check the speeders and vehicles parked along the road for any violations while keeping one eye on the store Obi-Wan and Aayla had just disappeared into. All was quiet so far, but that could change in an instant. There was no telling what kind of trouble the Generals could get up to without Bly and Cody by their sides. 

Cody was the first to become anxious after several minutes had passed with no sign of Obi-Wan or Aayla. He discreetly checked the chrono on his wrist, once, twice, and then again less than a minute later. Bly could picture the pinched, impatient look he was certainly wearing under his bucket, the one he always got when the situation was changing in a way he didn’t like.

“They’re only interrogating the suspect. Nothing to worry about. He’s a low-level threat.”

“I’m aware,” Cody said crisply, straightening up when he realized Bly’s eyes were on him. “My concern is only for the mission.”

“Mm. Of course." Bly let Cody stew in his anxiety for a moment longer. “You know, you never really answered my question from earlier.”

“What question?”

“I asked you if you really thought there was nothing there, between the two of you. You said there can’t be, but the way you said it-- well, it sounded like maybe you thought there was, and you’re just too afraid--”

If there was ever a time Bly thought Cody might really kill him, besides when Bly had accidentally botched an ARC training exercise for both of them that nearly set them back a cycle, it was right at that moment. Even back then, Bly had been reassured that Cody couldn’t kill him, not when Alpha-17 had promised to wring their necks himself. The fact that Bly would rather take one of Alpha’s ‘retraining’ sessions before subjecting himself to his brother’s rage was testimony to how terrifying Cody actually could be, when provoked. 

But it was Bly’s lucky day, or so it seemed. A commotion at the entrance of the shop had both of them bringing their rifles to the ready. The crowd thickened, suddenly swelling until they couldn’t see ten feet in front of themselves, and then it broke; a man was rushing through, long hair with a tattoo on his neck. The way he shoved past the bystanders in his way set Cody on edge. Pursuit of the suspect was foremost on his mind, but with Obi-Wan and Aayla’s status unknown, it was risky.

Before a hard decision had to be made, two more figures emerged through the crowd, quiet and discreet. They were headed in the opposite direction of the target, away from the people still milling around. Bly and Cody followed them from a distance, even making a second loop through the main street as if on patrol, before ducking behind the building that had been identified as their rendezvous point. Rats skittered across the pavement, out of the dark dankness of the alley, as the four of them converged. 

“We have a lead,” Obi-Wan began when he was certain they were alone. “The source claims Quay has found a buyer for the information he managed to acquire. If the trade goes through, it could be incredibly damaging to our efforts in the Outer Rim. We’d have to cease multiple compromised ops. There’s no telling what information he might have to our detriment.”

Bly’s thoughts drifted to his men, who would be just a standard day or two out from the thick of the war effort in the Outer Rim by now. He’d seen entire battalions wiped out due to compromised intel. This mission had just become a lot more personal.

“We’ll need to conduct further investigation to confirm what the source told us, but it’s the best lead we have so far on Quay,” Aayla said. “We need to act quickly. If Quay’s already set up a buyer, he must have a location as well.”

Obi-Wan nodded his agreement. “The Coruscant Guard has done much of the work for us. They’ve been following Quay for weeks now, and their intelligence reports are thorough. But that means we need to scour those reports for any hint of who Quay’s buyer is, or where the trade might be conducted.”

Intelligence analysis-- one of the most boring jobs in the fleet, if any front-line CT was asked. Bly and Cody were well-versed with paperwork and reports, but even they dreaded slogging through the monotonous details of the Guard’s reconnaissance. Fox demanded nothing short of meticulous work from his men. That made for comprehensive, but tedious, reports. Bly would rather spend the remainder of his day on patrol with Cody, even if it meant having to wear the Guard armor that dug into his legs and squished his junk.

The tactical operations center became Bly and Cody’s home for the rest of the afternoon. At some point, one of Fox’s shy little shinies came in to bring the Commanders two large cups of caf, which did little for them after so many hours of staring at a datapad screen. The casual banter they had kept up on patrol fell silent to the dreadery of their work. Neither so much as glanced out the window when Coruscant’s sky was painted in streaks of orange and pink, betraying how many hours they had been bent over their work. 

It was nightfall by the time Bly was able to break away from Cody and the pile of intelligence reports to come see Aayla. She had commed him hours ago on his personal channel, a request to visit her as soon as possible, but the work was still their top priority. Cody looked ready to drift off by the time Bly left him, eyes drooping and stamped with dark circles underneath. Bly made sure his brother had a solid meal in him before Cody passed out from overexertion, though he felt ready to drop dead on his feet himself. 

The halls of the Temple were quiet as Bly made his way to Aayla’s room. His heart was beating a quick staccato in time with his footsteps. With so many Jedi around, it was hard not to feel nervous. Even though he logically knew they couldn’t, Bly had never been able to shake the feeling that the Jedi could read minds. They always looked at him with those knowing eyes, like they stared into his soul and pulled out his most vulnerable parts. The idea of any Jedi seeing all the thoughts and emotions swirling around inside him made Bly quicken his pace in haste to get to Aayla’s room. 

She was waiting for him when he arrived. Meditation was a nightly activity for her, Bly knew, and it was no surprise to see her in the familiar cross-legged position on the floor of her quarters. When he entered, she rose to greet him with a soft kiss, a smile on her lips. 

“I’m glad you could come.” 

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Bly’s hand cupped her cheek tenderly, fingers just brushing her lekku, as they shared another kiss. “How are you?” 

“Better. Much better than this morning,” Aayla said. “But there is something I need to discuss with you.” 

Bly took Aayla by the hand and sat with her, side by side, on her bed. “Did something happen? You seemed worried earlier, but I didn’t want to ask in front of General Kenobi.”

“I got a comm from Cailyn.” Aayla gripped Bly’s hand, steadying herself. “She reviewed my scans again. She thinks I might be further along than what we initially thought. She’s doing her best, but she’s no expert.” 

“How far along are you, then?” Bly asked. 

“Likely ten weeks. It’s hard to say. The scans only show so much.” Aayla sighed. “The breadth of Cailyn’s knowledge has just about been exhausted. She knows how to perform the examinations, but past that… if there are complications, I’ll have no choice but to seek assistance elsewhere.” 

“Like from the Jedi healers?” Bly pursed his lips when Aayla nodded. “Then the other Jedi would find out. Maybe the Council.”

“Possibly. The healers are discreet, but I know as well as anyone else how quickly gossip travels. I only tell you this because I want you to be prepared. But I do want you to know, I’ve already made up my mind. If the Council finds out and sees fit to remove me from the Order, I won’t reveal you as the father. It’s simply too risky.” 

Although shock and disbelief were expected from Bly, in their place was simply resignation. Aayla had no way of knowing what went down in the conversation between Bly and his brothers, but his determination to protect her had increased tenfold since then. It was both endearing and saddening to see how willing Bly was to sacrifice himself for her benefit, even off the battlefield. 

“If that’s what it takes to protect you…” Bly’s gaze fell to her stomach. “Both of you, then that’s what needs to be done. I won’t let the two of you come into any danger. And who knows…” A flicker of hope ignited in Bly’s smile. “Maybe someday, after the war… we could be together. Truly together.” 

“I want nothing more than for that to be true.” 

Their eyes met in understanding, both coming to the same conclusion simultaneously: even if it was out of reach, the possibility of being together as a family some day was worth fighting for. Uncertainty permeated every aspect of their lives, as it was apt to do during wartime, but this one thing, the thing they had created together out of their love, could never waver. It was enough to know the same desire lived in both of them, even if this dream might never be realized. 

Aayla found herself drifting towards Bly, caught in his event horizon. The need for physical touch, specifically his touch, had been afflicting her more and more frequently. To so often be near him physically, but not intimately, was taking its toll. Aayla would take what she could get when they could borrow these precious moments for themselves.

A strong hand, calloused by years of holding a rifle, came up to cradle the side of Aayla’s face and hold her against a warm chest. Bly was dressed down, in the working uniform clones wore when they weren’t in full kit, and Aayla could just pick up the beating of his heart if she focused carefully enough. Her breathing slowed to match it, eyes fluttering closed, and she let herself relax fully into the arms of the only man she had ever loved with her entire being. 

Being in so in tune with Bly’s body as she was, focusing on his heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, savoring the puffs of breath on the back of her neck, Aayla missed all the normal cues that would have alerted her to another’s presence. Footsteps outside the door were lost to her. The hint of warning in the Force dissipated before it ever registered, swallowed up by her contented affection, and attenuated into the warmth around them. Even the door release barely ruffled Aayla’s senses. It was only when she felt Bly freeze, and a tendril of fear and dread release into the Force, that Aayla finally reacted to the man at her door. 

“Ah.” Obi-Wan Kenobi stood at the entrance, unblinking, with a towering tray of Temple rations in his hands. Balancing on each end were two cups of Aayla’s favorite tea, judging by the wafting scent, though that wasn’t what she was focused on at the moment. 

“I see my timing is rather unfortunate.” Obi-Wan stepped inside, allowing the door to slide shut behind him. “I would’ve brought another cup had I known. May I?” 

Chapter Text

Steam rose from the teacups sitting innocently on the small desk that doubled as a side table. A dainty metallic spoon made soft clinking noises each time it brushed the side of the cup whose contents it stirred. A small jar sat adjacent, squat and unassuming, filled with a fine white substance that could’ve been mistaken for salt. 

“Would you like sugar with your tea, Aayla?”

“No, thank you.”

“Commander?”

Pure cane sugar. It was so rare that most clones had never seen it, much less tasted it. The small, curious part of Bly wanted to say yes, wanted to taste the rare treat offered to him. He’d had sugar before, of course, in other things; chocolate rations, sugary alcoholic drinks, a pastry he’d bought himself for far too many credits that was so sickeningly sweet it turned his stomach. 

Any excitement that was brought about by the idea of enjoying General Kenobi’s fine tea collection was instantly dampened by the circumstances Bly found himself in. He stood rigid by Aayla’s bed, hands tucked behind his back in parade rest, uncertainty and confusion written into his stance. 

Bly didn’t know General Kenobi well, but if he was anything like the other Jedi Bly had met, swift damnation would be forthcoming. His crime? Loving someone who was supposed to be untouchable. Bly could only imagine the lies that would be told about him to maintain Aayla’s reputation; that he forced himself on her, that he was guilty of treason, that he’d been derelict in his duty. 

Bly was prepared for any one of those outcomes. He’d had plenty of time to anticipate what would happen to them should they be found out, each imagined scenario more unpleasant than the last. 

The last thing Bly had expected the General to do was offer him tea, with sugar, which must have been difficult to come by, even for a Jedi. Sugarcane wasn’t even grown on Coruscant; couldn’t be, with its hostile architecture being unsuitable for farming. Bly couldn’t imagine the price tag attached, even for a jar that small. It was more expensive than anything he had ever owned. More expensive than he was worth, Bly supposed. 

Bly’s silence prompted General Kenobi to forgo the sugar entirely. The teacup, sat on a little saucer, was handed to Bly, who took it wordlessly. Aayla’s was already in her hand. She took a small sip, and Bly did the same, to be polite. It was bitter and too hot. 

“I apologize for my inappropriate intrusion,” General Kenobi finally spoke up. He was leaning against Aayla’s desk now, arms folded over his chest. “I was simply concerned about your wellbeing, Aayla. You appeared to be ill this morning.”

“I have been experiencing sickness.” Aayla chose her words carefully. “But it’s nothing to be concerned about. Quinlan made sure I visited the medical center.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Kenobi’s gaze swept over Aayla, landed on Bly, and then returned to her. “I recognize that some discretion will be required here.”

Aayla stood, keeping her gaze level with Kenobi, and set her teacup aside with a soft clatter. “Any repercussions should rest solely on me, Master Kenobi. Commander Bly is innocent in this. He should be kept out of it.”

“Aayla.”

“Bly, please, allow me to handle this–”

“No.” Bly’s teacup joined Aayla’s on the desk, and he straightened to face General Kenobi. “Pardon my insolence if I should not speak freely, sir, but I won’t be talked about as if any of this wasn’t a choice I made of my own will. Agency is not something afforded to us clones, not in anything else.” He set his jaw. “But I ask that you allow me that dignity here.”

Kenobi inclined his head in a slight nod. “Your autonomy is respected here, Commander. Anything less would be a violation of the rights afforded to all beings.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“However, I should clarify my intentions,” Kenobi said. “Your personal business is none of mine. I respect your ability to make decisions, both of you. I do not wish any ill will on you for those choices.” 

“So you won’t tell anyone?” Bly asked bluntly. The General had always had a way with words. Bly didn’t care for that now. He needed to know what was going to happen to them. 

“No.” Kenobi shook his head. “I believe ‘tattling’ is best left to the younglings.” The corners of his mouth lifted up in a smile. “But it may be prudent to discuss—” 

A shrill beeping interrupted their conversation. Kenobi’s wrist comm was flashing, and a voice filtered through. 

“Commander Cody to General Kenobi.” 

With an apologetic look, Kenobi answered. 

“Go ahead, Commander.” 

“I have some information vital to the mission that you need to review immediately, sir.” 

Kenobi didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be down right away, Cody. Standby.” 

Turning to Bly and Aayla, Kenobi bowed his head in deference. “I’m afraid business calls. Rest assured, I will maintain my discretion on the matters we discussed.” 

His words were some relief to Bly, who knew that Kenobi would keep his word. That relief was short-lived. Secrets were finicky things. The less secret they became, the more likely it was that they would lose their power altogether. It represented danger for them. It represented danger for their child. 

Nothing was more important than the safety of their child. Bly wouldn’t let anything threaten them, even if that threat was himself. 

Bly watched the General disappear from Aayla’s quarters, stride proper and purposeful as it always was. This time, Aayla thought to activate the locking mechanism behind him. 

“Bly?” 

Aayla’s gentle touch brought him back to her. 

“Let’s talk.” 

***

It was with some difficulty that Obi-Wan turned his attention to Commander Cody after leaving Bly and Aayla. Nevertheless, Cody’s inopportune comm had saved him from a rather awkward discussion he felt wholly unqualified to have. 

In fact, Obi-Wan would consider himself to be among the least qualified to give direction on this topic, considering how his past dalliances had ended. He was a young man once. He could sympathize with Aayla’s position, perhaps too well. 

A model Jedi, Obi-Wan had never been, despite appearances. He had made mistakes, but he had always placed responsibility over desire. 

That was his burden. He could no more make that choice for Bly and Aayla than he could for his past self. Besides, Obi-Wan could only handle so many secret relationships at one time, and he was already juggling far too many passionate war romances for one man to handle. 

The conference room was in a state of complete disarray when Obi-Wan arrived to receive Cody’s report. Datapads were strewn about the table, in an organizational pattern known only to their owner. Three half-empty cups of caf, which had long ago gone cold, sat forgotten among the mess. The room was dark, like the sun had set while those inside were hard at work, but no one had the presence of mind to turn on a light. 

Hunched over the table, with his neck at an angle that would make one wince, was one Commander Cody. Although alert on the comm, in the twenty or so minutes it had taken Obi-Wan to make his way to the barracks, he had succumbed to the exhaustion of the day. In his right hand was a datapad held loosely, still blinking. His eyes were closed, face slack and empty.

The scene before him gave Obi-Wan pause just inside the doorway. It felt wrong to disturb such a tranquil moment. Behind him, the door gave a soft whoosh as it slid closed, and the choice was made for him. 

“General.”

Cody was up at once, gathering the datapads into a neat stack as damage control for the mess he had created. His eyes, tinged with sleep a moment earlier, rapidly focused on the task at hand. Obi-Wan stood patiently while Cody gathered himself. 

“My apologies, sir. The report is here for you.”

Obi-Wan waved off the formalities and stepped forward, taking the datapad directly from Cody. “No need for apologies. You and Commander Bly have been hard at work. I appreciate your dedication, Cody.” 

Cody’s face twitched in a way that Obi-Wan had come to realize meant he was pleased. “Of course, sir. I understand how time-sensitive this mission is.” 

Obi-Wan took a moment to scan the report in his hand. Even in his fatigued state, Cody was as meticulous and detailed as ever. 

“So it seems our buyer for the data chip is still unknown, but we have a location. Excellent work.” 

Cody nodded. “Yes, sir. Based on the reports of Quay’s movements, it seems likely that the exchange will take place tomorrow or the day after. He’ll want to offload the chip as soon as possible.” 

“It makes him a target,” Obi-Wan agreed. “The longer he has it, the longer he’s in danger. After the sale takes place, he and the chip will both disappear.” 

“Along with the intelligence,” Cody finished. 

“I’ll have some of Commander Fox’s men scout the location and notify us of any activity.” 

Satisfied, Obi-Wan tucked the datapad away in his belt and stepped a few meters away to comm the Commander. Unsurprisingly, Fox was still awake, and he was able to dispatch a team to sit on the location Cody had identified. 

Fox’s image flickered and disappeared on Obi-Wan’s wrist comm when their communication ended. Behind him, he could hear Cody bustling about, clearing off the table that had been serving as his desk. Cody took the same pride in a well-executed mission as he did a clean workspace. 

When Cody had Obi-Wan’s attention, his Force signature was always the same: clear, calm, and placidly neutral. Just the same as many of the clones, though they all had something unique that allowed Obi-Wan to identify them individually in the Force if he concentrated. 

It was times like this, when Cody was unaware of Obi-Wan’s careful, probing concern through the Force, that Obi-Wan thought he might not know his Commander at all. Cody was exhausted, that much was obvious, but the weariness that permeated his bones and the way his body trembled as he struggled to stay standing were hidden carefully behind layers of well-constructed shielding. 

There was an undercurrent of something else, a wrongness that thrummed in Obi-Wan’s core. Fear— the kind that would’ve made Obi-Wan feel insulted at the idea that Cody would be afraid of him, if not for the echo of longing that existed within it. 

Brave, loyal Cody, who wouldn’t even admit he was tired when he was on the verge of collapse, with a heart full of fear and longing. It made something stir inside of Obi-Wan, something deep and yearning which he was forced to neatly stamp down if he was to face his Commander with any sense of decorum. 

Obi-Wan turned to find Cody standing ready, the table empty behind him. His face was unreadable. 

“I’ll report in at 0500, sir.” 

A quick check of his chrono made Obi-Wan shake his head. “That’s in two hours, Cody. You need more rest than that.” He gently pressed on when Cody opened his mouth to disagree. “We all do.” 

Cody conceded, barely-detectable relief written into his features. “Very well, sir.” 

“Let me accompany you back to your quarters.” 

“I can find my way back, sir.” 

“I don’t doubt that.” Obi-Wan fell into step alongside Cody as they approached the door. “However, I’m aware of my Commander’s devotion to his work, and I’m afraid I’ll have to confirm that he receives the rest I have ordered.” 

Cody let out a small hum, clasping his hands behind his back as they walked. “Surely a Marshal Commander would know better than to try skirting around his General’s orders.” 

Obi-Wan ducked his head, hiding the way his mouth twitched upwards. “Naturally. One wouldn’t think a Marshal Commander to be so bold.”  

“Naturally.” 

The halls were dark and deserted as Obi-Wan and Cody made their way to the barracks building. Silence stretched on between them, neither having the energy to carry on a conversation. 

Although he did not speak, Obi-Wan’s mind was alive with troubled thoughts, consumed by the man who walked perpetually to his left and a little behind. Cody was so close that Obi-Wan could reach out and touch him, if he wanted to. 

And oh, he wanted. Wanted to know what Cody’s skin felt like, uncovered by armor. Wanted to connect with him through the living Force in the most intimate way. Wanted to know him not as the General and the Commander, but as beings who lived and loved and experienced passion that had nothing to do with war. 

It was all just a dream. Another one Obi-Wan lived for awhile and inevitably lost. 

So together they walked, Commander Cody to the General’s left and a little behind, and they did not speak. 

Cody’s barracks room was at the end of the hall, stuffed away in a dusty, forgotten corner. The six-digit door code was punched in expertly, and the door slid open. Cody had the look of a man who was ready to keel over at any moment, but he did not enter his room immediately. 

“When should I report, General?”

“No need. I’ll send someone to fetch you when Commander Fox’s men report back.”

Cody’s head drooped a fraction when he nodded. He was leaning against the doorframe, the last tattered pieces of his mask slipping away with every second their conversation dragged on. His hand came up to rub at his right shoulder, a reflex Obi-Wan had noticed before but hadn’t put much stock into. The repetitive motion, Cody squeezing and kneading the muscle, drew his eye and pinged his worry. 

“Are you injured, Cody?”

Startled, Cody dropped his hand to his side. He hadn’t realized he was even touching it. “No, sir. It’s an old injury. Flares up sometimes.”

“Perhaps I could assist you.”

Cody pushed himself away from the doorframe. “Assist me in what way?”

As Cody stepped into his room, Obi-Wan followed, and the door slid shut behind them. It was barely more than a closet, but there was room enough for a bunk and a desk. Obi-Wan indicated the small cot with his hand. 

“Please, sit.”

Cody obeyed. 

“It’s a trick I learned during my training days,” Obi-Wan explained, opting to seat himself in the chair attached to the desk. It was less than a half a meter from the bunk. “Actually, I learned it from Quinlan. He always has been quite good with these things, healing and working with his hands. If you tell him I said anything of the sort, I’ll of course deny it.”

Cody watched Obi-Wan remove his gloves and set them aside on the desk. They made brief eye contact, and silent understanding of what Obi-Wan meant for Cody to do passed between them. 

Turning so his back was to his General, Cody pulled off the tunic of his working uniform, then the undershirt. Cody’s bare skin prickled despite the dank, stuffy air in the bunk room. He kept his head straight forward and closed his eyes. 

It wasn’t as though they hadn’t been in similar states of undress before. A particularly memorable incident on a planet with dense foliage and a diverse ecosystem had left Cody, Obi-Wan, and a small squad of troopers covered in acidic plant discharge. Every one of the men had to be stripped and hosed down before they could return to camp, their General included. Then, it had been a laughable circumstance. 

Although all Obi-Wan bared was his hands, this moment was a hundred times more intimate than distant memories. Bunched muscles rippled under Obi-Wan’s soft touches, one hand coming to rest on the meaty part of Cody’s shoulder. Their faces were hidden from one another, yet this was the most open they had ever dared to be. 

The warmth from Obi-Wan’s hands steadily grew as both men relaxed into a state of concentration. They breathed together, chests rising and falling, and bodies becoming more and more lax by the second. Energy from the living Force became part of them, part of their breath, until they fell into a steady, sinking equilibrium. Both heartbeats thrummed together. Their minds, empty but for the thought of the other. For that brief moment, they were one. 

Obi-Wan’s hand drew back from Cody’s shoulder, taking the soft, heady state they’d fallen into with it. A soft gasp fell from Cody’s lips as he sagged forward, a puppet whose strings had been cut. In an instant, Obi-Wan was there, supporting Cody’s weight with his own body. 

“I apologize, Cody. I did not anticipate that it would be quite so… overwhelming.” 

Cody couldn’t speak for several seconds. He leaned against Obi-Wan, head on his shoulder, thoughts scattered like flimsi in the wind. 

“What… did you do?” 

“I only meant to ease your injury. I did not consider how the process would affect your body as someone who is not accustomed to the Force,” Obi-Wan said. The arm wrapped around Cody’s waist tightened when he felt a tremor run through Cody’s body. 

“So you… healed me?” 

“Ah… not quite.” Obi-Wan huffed out a soft laugh. “Force healing is incredibly complicated, believed to be impossible by many. What I did was calm your body and mind so the physical response would be lessened, thereby preventing some of the strain that was causing your shoulder to hurt. You’d be surprised how much stress and emotion can factor into the physical responses of our bodies.” 

It took Cody several full seconds to sit up on his own. His eyes were still slightly glazed, body slow and clumsy, but the fog was lifting. 

“You hit my restart button?” 

Obi-Wan considered his words. “I suppose I did. How do you feel?” 

Cody blinked, slow and wide. His eyes hadn’t moved from Obi-Wan’s face. “Tired,” he admitted. “But good. Calm. More so than I’ve ever been. When you touched me, I felt… everything. But it was good. I felt…” 

His tongue darted out, nervous, wetting his lips. 

“I felt you.” 

“The Force flows through all living things,” Obi-Wan said, though it felt an inadequate explanation for what they had just experienced. “When a bond is created between two individuals, your ability to feel the energy and strength of the other is somewhat enhanced. That’s likely what you felt.” 

Cody’s eyebrows furrowed, and Obi-Wan realized his mistake too late. 

“We’re bonded?” 

“Not— not entirely. The bond is very brief. It dissipates after the connection is severed,” Obi-Wan quickly explained. “There should only be a short-lived effect on both individuals.” 

Unless the pair were already bonded, like him and Quinlan, who shared the strong bond of friendship and brotherhood. Or him and Anakin, who were joined as brothers and as a mentor-Padawan pair. Or him and Siri, who had once been bound together as something more. 

“I apologize. I should have better explained what the process entailed.” 

Cody rolled his shoulders, slowly, then his neck, moving it leisurely from side to side. The constant tension that straightened his back and lifted up his shoulders was gone, leaving him loose-limbed and relaxed. The stress lines in his forehead and by his eyes had been smoothed out. He was almost glowing. 

Though Cody had been aged by years and war, he was still a young man. Obi-Wan had only been privileged enough to glimpse this side of him in brief snapshots over the time they’d known each other. It was never enough. Any guilt he had previously felt quickly dissipated as pure relief washed over Cody’s face. 

“I haven’t felt this good in a long time,” Cody said, rubbing away the last of the phantom pains in his shoulder. “Whatever that was, it worked. Thank you.” 

“My pleasure.” 

Having nothing else to say, and afraid he would do something he’d regret if he stayed, Obi-Wan stood to leave. 

“As I mentioned, I’ll send a runner for you when I have an update. Please, take advantage of this time for rest and recuperation. I’d like you to be well-rested for the execution of this mission.” 

“Of course,” Cody said. “And you as well?” 

Obi-Wan blinked. “Sorry?” 

“You’ll rest as well?” 

Obi-Wan conceded, a small smile on his face. “Very well. I suppose your concern for my well-being is not unfounded.” 

“I suppose not.” 

For a moment, neither of them moved, both staring the other down as if to suss out what they were feeling. It was nearly impossible for Obi-Wan to tell what Cody was actually experiencing and what was projection. Although Cody was merely a few steps away, it was as though they were separated by a chasm, both of them too burdened to close the distance. 

Obi-Wan knew about responsibility. It was his own that had always held him back, as it did now. 

When Obi-Wan exited Cody’s room, he allowed a tendril of the Force to reach out and feel the tentative makings of their bond. It was weak enough that Obi-Wan could only feel him in close proximity, but it was there. 

Obi-Wan concentrated, sharpening his senses as he had been taught, even as his feet brought him further from the room. The sound of Cody’s heartbeat carried him until he had exited the barracks. Cool night air prickled his skin, ruffling his attention, and Obi-Wan could feel him no longer.