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It starts, as most things are wont to do, with someone’s complete and utter inability to leave things well enough alone .
This time, it’s Ahsoka, to which Obi-Wan has to do a shameful double take, as if he’s managed to convince himself that Ahsoka is not as bad as her master. Whether through no fault of his own, the universe conspiring against him, or just his own curiosity that is so often akin to a laboratory animal pressing the electrocution button rather than the feed button as if expecting something different to happen each time, it is usually Anakin who finds himself on the end of something stupid, unbelievable, or downright deranged. Obi-Wan is often reminded by Vokara about how Anakin made the genome sequencing machine explode in on itself when the boy first arrived at the Temple, and as such, often has to work on his suspension of disbelief every time Anakin does something.
Of course, despite it being Ahsoka who’d decided that the rock was shiny and she wanted to touch it, it is still Anakin that is affected which, at the end of all things, is so fripping typical that Obi-Wan has to smother his cheek cracking grin with a hand tucked neatly over his mouth, praying that his beard isn’t twitching enough to give away the fact he very much wants to laugh.
Ahsoka, having fallen to the wayside when Anakin had been able to Force Push her out of the way after the pretty rock had exploded, and having rolled to a stop against a boulder big enough to take her montrols off, shakes her head, climbing to her feet with a scowl fit to crack the planet in two. She aims it at Anakin, fairly enough in Obi-Wan’s mind, before she blinks, once, twice, before her face cracks into a grin, wide enough to show her sharp fangs and the flesh of her gums.
Anakin, trembling and tiny like he’s not been since he hit sixteen and so regrettably grew, hisses at her.
“Oh Skyguy,” Ahsoka says, with such a note of joy in her tone that Obi-Wan is forced to clamp his hand tighter over his mouth, hoping the movement looks like he’s smoothing his mustache down. “You’re so cute!”
Anakin, who is used to people, not outright fearing him, but being appropriately awed at his skills, and furthermore used to commanding not only a full trooper battalion on the ground but also used to being a commander in the air as well that respect and look up to him and having become quite clearly taken with them in return, clearly doesn’t like being referred to as cute .Thusly, he makes his displeasure known by glaring so harshly at his Padawan, that Obi-Want is about to thank every deity he can think of that the Force doesn’t actually let you set fire to people through the power of your mind.
Of course, that then leads to Obi-Wan remembering when Anakin did accidentally melt several droids via the power of his mind, and thinks that he’ll have to take several hours of quiet meditation to work once more on his suspension of disbelief before Anakin breaks it again, after he’s made sure his troublesome Padawan isn’t going to melt his also troublesome Padawan.
Regardless of that, the fact of the matter, however, is that Anakin is cute, and Obi-Wan is only able to resist the urge to coo over him sheerly by the fact that Obi-Wan was there when Anakin grew from a relatively cute nine year old to a quiet teenager, all cuteness replaced by hard lines and a sullenness that Obi-Wan never quite figured out where it came from. Also, he has no doubt that Anakin has surely done something - or will do something - to deserve this, and so has little shame in being so amused by the fact that his once Padawan has seemingly been turned into a loth-cat.
Anakin, who has up until now been splayed spreadeagled on the soft brown grass on the podium, suddenly seems to remember that he has legs, and, with a most fearsome glare that does nothing to detract from the fluff spilling out of his twitching ears, pulls his little paws into himself.
“You look like a loaf of bread!” Ahsoka blurts at once, lightsabers hilted at her hips and her hands having followed suit. She looks ready to pick her Master up, and Obi-Wan dearly wished he either had a camera, or that Cody or Rex were due to touch down to pick them up, so someone could at least record this. Anakin, who’d been readying to stand up, abruptly tucks his legs - one of the forefront fake and shining dully in the sun and Obi-Wan wonders if it’s a miniature hand or if it too has been turned into a loth-cat paw - back under his honey like curls. The fur on the back of his neck stands on end, and his wide mouth opens to display an impressive set of teeth, big eyes narrowing until they’re slits.
Obi-Wan thinks it would be a most impressive display, if Anakin’s rear wasn’t quivering, as if about to pounce, and his fluffy tail curling up like a question mark. As Ahsoka looks ready to tease Anakin until the three suns have set and Obi-Wan has perished from his own amusement and also starvation and dehydration, he sighs and steps forward, crouching close to his shivering once Padawan.
“Only you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, stroking down his beard as he peers at the Jedi Knight turned loth-cat who turns pathetically wide and pleading eyes up to Obi-Wan. “Can go on a mission trying to find a Sith artifact and find one that turns you into a tooka.”
Anakin opens his considerable mouth, his teeth flashing in the sun, and he must try to speak, but no words come out, only a soft, panicked mrrrooow , little claws digging into the compact dirt beneath the grass. He looks, to a whisker, pleading, as if Obi-Wan has the slightest clue in how to fix this.
Those eyes, still blue as the skies of Naboo, cross, and Anakin gives another mrrroooow, far more panicked than the first, and his fluffy tail lashes out, collecting an errant leaf that gives Anakin a little bit of a fright, and, perhaps against his best wishes, he ends up jumping with a panicked mewl and hoists himself into Obi-Wan’s spread out robes, largely flat nose buried in Obi-Wan’s ankle.
Ahsoka, having been watching, and who’d had the foresight to signal up to The Resolute and The Negotiator who’ve been circling in orbit for their Generals and Commander to finish up, thankfully resists the urge to coo.
His once Padawan snuffling in instinctive cat fear around his ankles, Obi-Wan has only time to curse the Force, any Deities that may hate him and also Qui-gon’s Force Ghost, because surely this is his awful Master’s karma at work, before he sighs and gets to work.
Rex, who is, at least impeccably well trained and at best potentially completely dead inside, or, perhaps just completely used to his General’s hijinks, takes one look at the still quivering tooka kit in Obi-Wan’s arms and looks back up at Obi-Wan, who can feel the unrepentant exasperation leaking into the air around the Captain.
“General Kenobi,” Captain Rex says, in a tone that is usually a precursor to Rex poking logic shaped holes in everyone’s stupidity, and thus has everyone around him well trained and terrified of when the Captain starts speaking louder than a quiet conversation. “ Why is my General a loth-cat?”
Anakin, who clearly decides that Rex would be more sympathetic, though that could also be because he thought that Rex looked more comfortable, peaks his head out from where he’d hidden it in Obi-Wan’s inner elbow, big ears flopping forward. He gives no warning before he digs his talon like claws into Obi-Wan’s forearms, who is suddenly and immensely grateful he wore vambraces, and jumps into Rex’s suddenly outstretched arms.
Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, and Cody - who’d had to step out from The Resolute ’s Bridge to get his cackling fit out of the way and who’d just stepped in to rejoin them - watch with unbridled interest as Rex easily cradles his General in his arms, bucket nodding up and down as Anakin places his paws on the protrusions of Rex’s chest piece. Anakin headbutts Rex’s mouth piece before his tail wraps around the Captain’s vambrace and gauntlet, letting out irritated and frustrated little mrrrows and meoooows. In return, Rex is seriously nodding, making little noises as if he agrees, as if he can understand the Jedi Knight turned loth-cat.
“Of course, General,” Rex is saying, even as Ahsoka, Cody, and Obi-Wan exchange incredulous glances, all of the thought that perhaps Rex has taken leave of what little sense he has left after working so closely with Anakin for so long. “Terrible, General, I understand, shall we get you something to eat? Kix will also need to check you over-”
Here, presumably at the mention of Kix, who whilst a first class trauma medic, is often stick happy and always annoyed that Anakin is usually deficient in some sort of vitamin or even pints of blood, Anakin lets out a yowl, tail loosening from Rex’s hand to lash against his forearm. In the Bridge’s fluorescent lights, Anakin’s fangs gleam nice and white, a low rumbling building in the very back of his throat. Rex remains unimpressed.
In fact, he’s so unimpressed that he simply looks at Anakin, and despite the fact that his bucket is hiding his expression, Anakin is seemingly cowed enough that he gives an apologetic sounding little brrp, butting his wide head against his Captain’s vocoder before settling into his Captain’s arms like a little loaf of bread, legs curled over Rex’s vambraces, and tail slowly unfurling to touch at Rex’s throat. When one of Rex’s hands comes up to scratch deeply at the curve of Anakin’s chin, Anakin looks so smug that his neck disappears further, tail poofing up considerably.
They watch as both Captain and General loth-can disappear from the sight, soft mmrrw- ing and quiet words slowly being lost to the ear.
“What,” Cody demands, hushed, as if terrified Rex or Anakin would hear him. “The Kriff.”
Obi-Wan pats him on the shoulder consolingly.
Anakin stares. Kix stares back.
“General.” Kix says politely.
“Mrrow. ” Anakin says politely back.
Coric, clutching the datapad to his chest, watches in fascination. Kix and General Skywalker carry on their staring contest, wide eyes to narrowed ones. General Skywalker doesn’t move, seemingly comfortable in Rex’s arms.
“What the kriff?” Kix explodes. Coric chokes back his own laughter as General Skywalker looks particularly offended.
Just another day on The Resolute, apparently.
Contrary to what everyone had probably first thought, and perhaps what should have been actually expected, what with the 501st reputation for being absolutely batshit insane with the top results to reflect that, the 501st take to their General loth-cat with general aplomb and minimal cooing, if only because Anakin, despite not being able to talk or having opposable thumbs, has taken to making them carry him around if they do so inside of his hearing. Of course, this also has the unintended effect of making his men coo at him more, and so, in turn, Anakin is carted around in his men’s arms with a smug face and a curling tail.
Fives, who’d been the one to croon at his General this time when Anakin had been curled up on the Navigation panel seat chair when the Nav trooper - Starfire, from an eons old cartoon - had tried to move his General and resulted in Anakin yawning widely as he curled his paws into Starfire’s chestplate, is Anakin’s designated mode of transport today. This is, however, somewhat of a deterrent for the men wanting to work of course, as Anakin, in all his glorious feline instincts and casual disregard for personal space, has settled himself over Fives’ bucket, chewing absentmindedly on the trooper’s retracted rangefinder.
“General, please.” Fives says in as many minutes as Anakin starts to purr again, tail lashing lazily around to cover the bucket’s T-viser. Anakin gives a muffled mroooow, before spitting out the rangefinder in apparent disgust. His front paws, dangling down loosely on each side of the T-visor, curl tighter around the cliff of the bucket's jaw. There’s a particularly strange sound where Anakin rasps his rough tongue over the top of Fives’s bucket, neck disappearing as he allows himself to go limp and heavy over the crown of it. Fives doesn’t actually know how he stops himself from slipping off.
“Going my way?” Echo sniggers as he gives a gentle tug of his General’s fluffy tail, and Anakin bats a betaloned paw at the ARC trooper, flashing his fangs playfully as he mrooooows loudly in greeting. It’s Echo, this time, that thankfully resists the urge to croon.
Fives gives his batchmate a baleful glare through his bucket, careful in how he turns his head with his General clinging to it like a cadet does with their first blaster. Anakin only clings harder, and mrrrows loud enough that Kix, passing in the other direction and resolutely ignoring the lot of them, abruptly turns his head to stare at them. It’s particularly effective since Kix doesn’t have his bucket on. Anakin gives a mournful mrrp when Kix doesn’t stop to truly admire his balance on Fives’ helmet and grows limper over the dome of Fives’ bucket, his paws kneading uselessly at the cliff of Fives’ bucket.
“We’re heading to the mess,” Fives reports, brushing his General’s tail out of the way of his T-visor again. Anakin only licks over the top of it in reply. “And then the General has paperwork.”
To his credit, Echo doesn’t pause in his stride even as he tilts his bucket to look up at Anakin who grins widely at him, showing fangs and the flesh of his gums.
“But, sir,” Echo says, bewildered. Anakin gnashes his teeth playfully at him. “You don't have any thumbs.”
Anakin cackles in reply.
Rex stops abruptly when he goes into the General’s rec room, attached to both the General’s actual bunk and the CC rooms that Rex inhabits despite actually being a CT. He blinks several times, but neither his bucket visor nor his eyes are malfunctioning. Honestly, Rex isn’t sure why he didn’t think this would happen.
“General.” Rex says solemnly, hands on his hips. He stares baldly at where Anakin is sprawled across several datapads, a stylus precariously balanced in both paws as he signs his name sloppily.
Anakin looks up, eyes wide, ears pulled back and his wide head tilted. His tail curls around his rear end, like a giant question mark. Rex resolutely ignores the urge to firmly stroke a hand down his General’s curly furred back. Anakin, for all that he’s allowed the troopers free range on playing and carrying with him, actually hasn’t allowed any of them to really pet him.
“Mrrw?” Anakin asks.
“What are you doing?”
Anakin only lets out another brpppm, significantly less inquisitive and more like he’d sound when asking a natborn officer a question he already knows the answer to, because the General is scary and powerful like that.
“You do not have opposable thumbs,” Rex points out. Anakin tilts his head, giving another noise as he turns his wide eyed gaze to the datapad, which - Rex tilts his own head to look - seems to be the days requisitioning and accounting forms, which Rex knows Anakin likes to comb through, because he’s weird as all kark and actually likes mathematics. “You being a loth-cat is basically a free get out of paperwork card, General, why?”
Anakin mrrrrows in reply, louder and more plaintive, before dropping the stylus. He drops onto the floor, not even stumbling, before he’s winding himself around Rex’s ankles, and then shooting off to the CC bunk door. It only takes another repeat performance before Rex rolls his eyes. At
least the General has done the paperwork for the day so Rex doesn’t have to worry about it.
“You’re awful, General.” Rex says, even as he scoops up his smugly purring General, and opening the CC bunk door as Anakin makes himself comfortable.
Rex falls asleep to Anakin smugly curled up on top of the bucket placed nearest the door, so that if anyone tries to get in, it’ll be to an angry loth-cat General to the face.
(“Now,” Kix says very firmly. He holds his General up to his face beneath his furry armpits, having made everyone else vacate the medbay. “We’ve got something here we can use to our advantage, so you’re to go and act very cutely and get your stupid Captain to go to sleep, okay General.”
Anakin tilts his head, before mrrrrrowing in response, lifting a paw to delicately palace it on Kix’s nose.
“Precisely.”)
The first time someone walks in on Anakin sat perfectly still in front of R2-D2 and mechanized beeping coming from both of them is not the last time.
The less said the better.
“Hardcase?” Rex says casually.
“Yeah, Captain?” Hardcase squeaks, because everyone can tell when they’ve kriffed off Captain Rex, and that someones going to be up shit creek and someone else is going to be the paddle. Jesse, Hardcase’s current partner in crime, slowly tries to slide away, fully determined to not be the person donating their body. Rex only clears his voice, and Jesse freezes guiltily.
“Why is my General in clone armor?” Rex asks just as casually. He stares firmly at where Anakin has taken pride of place on the nose of his own starfighter, with a little helmet protecting his ears, and overlapping plastoid armor down his back and onto his paws. Onlyhis tail remains free of plastoid.
Anakin gives an sharp mrrrep, sitting down, and carefully tucking his fluffy tail around his feet. He seems particularly smug, neck disappearing and his curls spilling from the repurposed armor.
“General Skywalker had been talking about getting more armor anyway,” Hardcase starts off, feeling a little like a newly decanted cadet standing in front of a seasoned ARC trooper. “So we thought his loth-cat form should get some-”
“We are not taking a loth-cat into battle, nevermind our loth-cat General.” Rex thunders.
Anakin gives a smug sound and Rex slowly turns, eyebrows rising until they’ve been almost consumed by his hairline. The doors clatter open.
“Hey, we managed to repurpose the rest of the plastoid for the General’s tail!” Fives and Echo burst into the room, and Anakin’s ears go forward in excitement. He turns large, luminous eyes to Rex, whose eye is twitching.
All four troopers watch as Rex simply stares at Anakin and the loth-cat stares back, with large, pleading eyes.
Rex stands fast, until Anakin lies down, floofy and his paws tucked beneath his wide head, eyes still luminous and lamplike.
“Oh for kriffs sake,” Rex rubs a hand over his face, groaning quietly. “You’re not getting a weapon though.”
Anakin grins widely, gnashing his fangs even as he throws himself at Rex, who's forced to catch him lest he takes a loth cat General to the face. Anakin purrs fit to become a speeder.
(Jesse gets him a 501st blue blaster holster on each side that matches Rex’s DC-17 pistols. Rex won’t say it, but he’s delighted.)
“General.” Rex says, very much judging. He completely ignores the chaos of the hangar bays as the Red Alert klaxon shrills in the background.
Anakin mrrrows loudly, dropping his lightsaber - hadn’t they locked it away? - at Rex’s feet and deliberately swiveling his head to where the troopers are boarding their Lartie’s. His ears whack Rex in the thigh plate.
“No.”
“Mrupm.” Anakin hisses back at him.
“You’re a loth cat, General, please.” Rex says, long suffering, with a tone that says they’ve had this conversation several times.
Anakin swivels his ears, fluffy curls spilling out of them as he stares resolutely up at his Captain. Those blue eyes go bright and luminous, almost taking over his entire face.
Rex immediately places a hand over his T-Visor.
“I’m not falling for that again, General.”
A sort weight against his foot has Rex peering through his fingers only to curse a blue streak that has a shiny laughing nervously behind him.
“Oh for kriff’s sake,” Rex hisses. “Get on, General.”
Anakin howls in reply and throws himself up onto Rex’s pauldron.
Jesse stares blankly after where he’d seen Rex's bucket zooming across the hallway floors, never once bumping into the walls, cheerful little mrrips escaping from beneath.
“That way.” Jesse points when Rex comes thundering around the corner.
Jesse only watches as the Captain follows his errant, loth cat possessed helmet.