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Cody didn’t mind Cadets. They were small brothers with less impulse control and higher voices, but he would be lying if he said this was where he pictured himself when he had first saw The Jedi walk in from the rain.
Beauty wasn’t a topic covered by the learning modules he had to complete or the drills he had to perfect. Until that moment the most aesthetically pleasing thing to him was the breaking of the dawn over the water on a rare clear day.
The trainers and the Kamanoans were not beings he found particularly attractive, everyone else looked exactly like him.
It's hard to describe the shock. He thought it was a merman that had magiced himself a pair of legs. The Alphas told stories like that that they had heard from the trainers. It was the first thing that came to him because he had nothing else to compare him to.
He hadn’t known people could look like that. Hair red-gold against the stark white halls and bright lights of Kaminoan architecture. As cadets they spoke about what the Jedi would be like. Cody had imagined gruff beings like the Trainers except bigger with flashing swords of light.
Maybe he would be Cody’s General, he had dared to hope.
But it wasn't to be. The war lasted a week. The Separatist leaders killed or captured. The Supreme Chancellor of the Republic outted as a Sith. Cody hadn't even gotten a taste of what he had been training for his entire life. He wasn't on Geonosis.
Brothers and Jedi had died there. It wasn't something to be envious of.
And yet, now he was faced with a life not set in stone. No one knew what the Clone Corps of the Jedi Order would be and how it would function. The Jedi had fought hard to be able to retain them and not let the Republic return them for a refund to be shipped off as slave labour in wildspace like some of the Senators had proposed. There was just one problem about the Jedi taking 'ownership' of the clones.
The Jedi were not legally allowed to have an army unless it was overseen by the Republic.
So the Clones who had worked all their lives to be perfect soldiers, could not be soliders, or their lives would be thrown to the dogs.
The Kaminoans had been unhelpful as always and had given a short deadline for the Jedi to pick up their merchandise.
Considering they had probably been in league with a Sith the long necks were desperate to have the Jedi as far away from their business as possible.
To the Jedi's credit they were excellent organizers and Clones were exceedingly good at any task put in front of them. Star Destroyers were disarmed and made into temporary bases so as not to cross the Russan Reformation, old Jedi watch bases were reopened, planets that were friendly or owed favours to the Jedi made room. The agracorps and exploracorps offered potential planets.
So now the future was brighter, but also uncertain.
Two things that would be important to Cody came up quickly.
The first was the genetic alterations that had accelerated their growth. The Kamanoians refused to give out ‘proprietary’ knowledge. The Jedi argued these any modifications to their units had to be disclosed.
It wasn't as simple as turning a switch on and off for the majority of them. Tubies and Cadets who hadn't gone through puberty just required a simple shot. Anyone older there would have to be trials and tests. Medcorps flatly refused to start with clone testing off the bat which was refreshing, but made things slower.
But the cadets were fixed.
Which was the second issue that would concern Cody directly.
What to do about the children? The traditional way was out of the question. They weren't allowed to raise an army anymore, and the Jedi clearly didn't approve of the cadet training regimes.
The Jedi had the idea to try to raise them like Jedi. Creche clans.
It wasn't going well.
Shaak Ti, the Jedi advisor to the Clone Corps Council decided it was time to call in an expert.
That's what she called him.
“Line up, Cadets,” Cody ordered. There were thirteen boys in all, the size of a squad. Most other ‘creche clans’ were larger, but the Jedi were trying something different with this one. Jedi Advisor Shaak Ti had said that they had brought in an expert to try to bridge the gap between Jedi and Clone rearing.
He could tell the Cadets were excited, but they stood in two perfect straight lines, one line longer than the other. The unevenness irked him. Fourteen or twelve would have been a better number.
His thoughts scattered when the door opened. Shaak Ti entered first, bowing to Cody in greeting. The hierarchy was in shambles now, so as most clones did, Cody defaulted with a salute.
“Hello, Commander, hello young ones, I’m introducing you to your new caretaker today. He might not be like the other Creche Masters you’ve met before, but we hope you might be more comfortable with his style of guidance. Please meet Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
Cody’s breath quietly caught and he was glad for the nights of losing sleep playing sabaac with Fox for the neutral face he had developed.
It was The Jedi.
“Hello there!”
He wasn’t ethereal as he had been the first time Cody had seen him, and he was dry this time, being in a starship instead of out in Kamino’s rain, but he still lit up the room like sunrise. He walked with a cane now.
He must have seen battle despite how brief it had been.
“Commander, I look forward to working with you.”
Cody’s attention snapped back to Kenobi who had tipped his head down politely.
“Yes, of course,” Cody said, not a syllable out of place.
“You’re the man I need to talk to about getting my trainees I hear.”
The Jedi couldn’t hope to look after so many Cadets while seeing to their own younglings, folding the Clone Corp into their main body, and dealing with the rest of the Republic’s issues. The information would trickle down the Creche Masters having Clones that would learn their style and pass it on to others, looking after their own ‘clans.’ Just like the Trainers taught the Alphas and the Alphas taught the Commanders.
“CT-9810 and CT-9920, they go by Waxer and Boil respectively. They’ll be joining you soon.”
“Wonderful,” Kenobi smiled. He turned his attention toward the Cadets. “Now then, Cadets, why don’t you sit at your desks, no don’t take out the terminal, we need to get to know each other."
Cody left them to their introductions, going to his corner to observe. He was observing the Jedi a little too closely and didn’t pay much attention at first.
“I’d like to know what your routine used to be,” Kenobi said.
The Cadets sat silently, confused.
Kenobi waited patiently until finally the smallest of the bunch worked up his courage.
“Aren’t you supposed to tell us our routine, sir?” he asked very quickly. The others looked from him to the Jedi, wanting to gauge his response.
Kenobi leaned back against his chair and considered their question.
“No,” he decided.
The cadets were startled. Cody was a little startled. They had brought in this expert to fix things, not muddle them.
Kenobi fell back into silence, waiting again. No matter how well disciplined the Cadets were, they all started to fidget. Cody wanted to fidget too.
Again it was the littlest one that spoke. That was common. Brothers with physical differences tended to make up for it with personality.
“The other Master told us right away,” he informed Kenobi a hair too tartly for Cody’s liking, but Kenobi wasn't offended at all.
“The other Masters have been teaching Jedi younglings a very long time,” Kenobi explained. “But I’m new to it, at least this many at once. I’m afraid you’re going to have to help me along.”
If there was one thing to know about Clones in general it was this: they didn’t particularly like incompetence and were eager for things to run smoothly.
Taking ‘command’ when a leader proved himself inept was second nature. Immediately a Cadet at the front of the line was speaking, doing exactly as Kenobi had hoped.
“Get up at, do warm up stretches, eat, learning modules with callisthenics as a break between blocks, lunch, combat training, weapons training, obstacle course, dinner, specialty training or more learning modules, bed.”
He said all of this in one breath.
“They kept you busy,” Kenobi observed mildly. “And your last Creche Master?”
The Cadets hesitated. “There was meditation,” one said.
“And moving meditation…” another grumbled.
“And poetry,” the Cadet’s voice dropped.
“No weapons training at all.”
Kenobi tutted. “I see, but you did exercise.”
The Cadets had, but all agreed it was weird and slow compared to the adrenaline pumping obstacle courses they were used to.
“I see, that does sound rather dull when you put it that way,” Kenobi hummed.
“Also!” One of the boys said now that it was clear they were allowed to air grievances. “She didn’t like it when we called her General, but that’s what we’re supposed to call you!”
Kenobi tilted his head and considered this. “The Jedi Order is not a military organisation,” he explained.
“But we’re supposed to! That’s what they said!” the Cadets were all taking turns speaking now.
There was the pull of a smile which Kenobi aimed at Cody.
“Is that right, Commander?”
“We were all trained like that,” Cody answered, his heartbeat picking up a little at the man’s attention. “But we all understand the need for change,” he said directly to the Cadets who quickly straightened up their posture having forgotten Cody’s presence.
“Do we?” Kenobi said softly, then he turned the question to the Cadets. “Do you understand why you are no longer being trained as soldiers?”
There was a gigantic pause.
“The ‘public says we’re not allowed,” one ventured.
“The Jedi don’t need us,” another said, a little more quietly.
Cody frowned at that. It was a thought he had had himself. Instead of helping the Jedi win a war they had become a burden, something that needed to be solved.
“The Jedi are happy to have any help you’re willing to give,” Kenobi corrected firmly. “There is some truth in the Republic not allowing it.” He went on to carefully explain the political situation, simplified for Cadets. Somehow he made it sound like the Jedi were excited to have new experts, new points of view, new friends.
“I understand when your future turns out differently than you expect,” Kenobi finished.
“Cause of your leg?” that one was a bold one.
Kenobi looked down at said leg. He knocked it with his cane. “Oh no, this is new.”
“From Geonosis?” the Cadets perked up. War stories were passed like contraband among them.
“The very place, that’s right,” Kenobi said, noticing their brightened attention. “I think I understand. You all want to be soldiers.”
“Yes!” No hesitation at all. It was what every Clone had been trained to want since they could make memories.
And in his own head Cody had said it too, along with them.
“Right,” Kenobi clapped his hands. “Well, we can’t call you soldiers, but I can teach you some things that every soldier should learn. Is that fair?”
There were small curious nods. “Can we call you General?”
Only the smallest hesitation before the Jedi nodded amiably. “Alright. I’ll be General Kenobi, just for you.”
Once the General had been given his lieutenants Waxer and Boil who seemed less than thrilled to be assigned creche duty, but put on brave faces about it, Kenobi started to organize his troops.
That's what he had told Cody that morning. Cody had his doubts.
“It should be ferocious!”
“No! It should be smart!”
“It should be gigantic!” the Cadets argued.
Their General had ordered them to pick an animal to represent their squad. The different Jedi creche clans had animals associated with them too, usually they were assigned, but the Cadets were more than happy to be able to choose themselves.
Kenobi watched the boys disciplined discussion quickly turn to arguments and chaos. He didn’t chide them for raised voices or squirming, nor did he tell them that they should leave room to listen to one another and be polite. He scribbled on his datapad, half paying attention until finally the noise got to a breaking point.
“Right!” he said cheerfully. He set his pad down and brought up a holo with the words the boys had been shouting: big, smart, ferocious, gigantic, etcetera.
“What animals have a resemblance to this?” Kenobi asked. “Yes? 10-2938, is that right?”
“Yes, General sir!” the Cadet answered, proud to have his number remembered so quickly by their General.
“Go on then.”
“A rancor?” He said with a little less surety.
“They’re not smart though,” one immediately argued.
“And not big enough!”
“They are very ferocious though,” Kenobi complemented. “But only when provoked. They’re quite sweet as long as you don’t try to take their food away, but if you do watch out!”
“Have you fought them, General?”
“I was a very hungry teenager, but even I didn't try to steal a Rancor's dinner. I’ve played fetch with one though,” Kenobi said. “But perhaps I’ll tell you about that later, we still need to pick a Squad name.”
Squad, not Clan, Cody noted.
A few more animals were named and thrown out.
“A star!” that was CC-10-3843. He had been quiet the entire time, trying to puzzle out everyone’s requirements.
Immediately his agemates were correcting him.
“That doesn’t work!” “That won’t do!” “It’s not an animal at all!”
“Hmm,” Kenobi said, interrupting the children’s ridicule. “It could work.”
“Huh?” the boys frowned.
“But all the Jedi clans are named after animals.” The Cadet that said this crossed his arms looking ready to argue his point.
“But we’ve decided we’re a Squad, not a Clan,” Kenobi countered. “A star is gigantic.”
“There’s not a lot bigger than a star,” 2938 said tentatively.
“And,” Kenobi said. “A star is ferocious.”
“How is a star ferocious?” Boil muttered. Waxer elbowed his ribs.
“Roiling boiling hydrogen, explosions with more power than a plasma bomb,” Kenobi said. "There's nothing I have ever faced more ferocious than that."
The Cadets wiggled, liking the sound of that.
“Are stars smart though?” one asked, askance.
Well,” Kenobi said slowly. “Perhaps, perhaps not. There are many stories about the stars and their views of things. The Mandalorians see their ancestors when they look at the stars in the sky. Kiffar the Path. Guidance for the steps life takes. Stars are how we navigate from a planet, and in space. They spin in concert with the universe and the Force.”
“Then … we can be Star Squad?” the littlest one asked.
“Yes,” Kenobi smiled. “From now on you’re Star Squad.”
General Kenobi and Star Squad were up early today. Cody followed them down the hall. They had been together a week and Cody was beginning to see Kenobi’s method of getting through to the Cadets. How he pulled from Clone teaching and fused it with his own Jedi outlook.. His next goal was a big one.
“Names are revealed,” Cody told him. They were alone, the children put in their sleep pods for the night. “Sometimes you get a name when you’re young, but most of the time it doesn’t come up until you’re past shiny. They’re not going to go for it.”
“I understand, but keeping them as numbers goes against what we’re trying to do,” Kenobi said. “You are a whole, and you’re now apart of our whole. Yes the Jedi have a certain level of conformity, but we also allow for individuality. Cultural traditions as well as personal ones.”
“Individuality isn’t something we were encouraged to explore,” Cody said dryly.
“But you have explored it,” Obi-Wan said, his eyes travelling down to Cody’s rising sun painted on his armour. He looked like he might reach out to touch it, but clasped his hands together under his sleeves instead.
It had become common to mark armour up. The Jedi were all for it.
“I promise I’m not trying to step on your cultural practices,” Kenobi said.
“It’s not…” Cody began. Cultural practice. Was that what their names were? He had always thought of them as a defiance, shared between brothers and no one else, but the Jedi had shown themselves worthy of hearing them, and they seemed to understand.
He supposed it was a cultural practice. He tilted his head.
“Trust me?” Kenobi met his eyes and Cody had a hard time holding his gaze. He nodded.
“Alright.”
“Names are a convenience,” Kenobi began his lesson for his troops. The General had his Cadets in two lines in front of the viewing window. The ship had moved away from the planet they had been orbiting to a deeper part of space where the stars could be seen properly. “I know there was some trouble when Jedi suggested you pick names for yourselves now.”
“It’s not how it works!” the Cadets were getting more comfortable answering Kenobi’s questions.
“Yes, that’s my understanding as well,” Kenobi nodded. “Your names find you. This is a practice you can find in other parts of the Galaxy as well. Some find their name in visions, some find their name in tests, some name themselves.”
“But we don’t want to do that. We want to find it like the older brothers.”
“And you’re going to,” Kenobi assured them all. “But I have a suggestion.”
The cadets leaned in.
So did Waxer and Boil, Cody noticed in amusement.
“More names,” Kenobi shrugged. He leaned up against the viewing window, his leg must be sore from having to stand so long, but he did little to reveal his discomfort. “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. Obi-Wan is my given name, Kenobi is my family name.”
“We don’t have that.”
“Wouldn’t it be Fett?”
“I don’t want to share a name with Prime.”
“Ugh, no.”
“I promise I wasn’t suggesting it,” Kenobi said. “Besides, the point is convenience and quick identification. When you’re in a squad being able to signal to each other quickly and tell each other apart is essential.”
The Cadets were always eager for tidbits about life as a soldier, so they were listening with keen interest to the Jedi’s proposal. They never noticed he wasn't promising them lives as soldiers, only that his lessons might be useful to soldiers.
Cody supposed they were... if you looked at it at the right angle.
“So, I suggest last names,” Kenobi said. “Which will be only used among us. Family names. That way they won’t usurp the names you’re supposed to find for yourselves later on.”
The Cadets were a mixture of excited and unsure.
"Can we share them with our friends?" the quieter one asked.
"It's yours, you can do what you want with it." Kenobi smiled encouragingly.
Waxer and Boil looked mystified and were just as eager.
“How do we get them?” 10-2938 asked. He and the littlest were often the spokesmen of the group.
“There’s only one thing more numerous than the Clones,” Kenobi said grandly. He gestured out toward the stars. “Last names are random chance. I want you to pick a star and I’ll tell you the name you’ll share with it.”
Oh.
Cody watched bursts of joy. Small hands pressing up against the window to pick out the one they wanted. Lights in the sky, an uncountable amount.
Kenobi moved away from they window to let the boys chatter and choose their stars. He looked over at Waxer and Boil, raising his eyebrow. “Well?”
“Uh, sir—” Boil asked.
Waxer grabbed Boil’s arm and tugged him to the window as well.
Kenobi, self satisfied, leaned on the wall and let himself slide down to stretch out his leg.
“You’re not encouraging me to find a star?”
“You already have the Sun, Cody, I don’t think you need another star,” Kenobi said, looking up through long fair lashes.
“I’d rather not go by Kamino, too alliterative,” Cody joked, sliding down next to the Jedi.
“No, not Kamino,” Kenobi agreed softly, “Suns are different than stars.”
“No they’re not,” Cody chuckled, thinking the Jedi was speaking in jest.
“They are,” Kenobi said, with a little half-smile playing on his lips. “It just depends on your point of view. A sun warms a planet, gives it life. A star is distant, far away. You have the Sun. Any Sun as long as it rises at dawn.”
"I..." Cody said. What was he supposed to even say to that. Kenobi looked at him like Cody himself was the sunrise.
“We picked! We picked!” the Cadets cheered, running up to surround the two of them.
Cody looked away, cheeks heated, but he was quickly back to watching as the Cadets pulled their General towards the window. He took out a holo and they identified each star together.
Distant stars, Cody thought.
He wondered what the General and his constellation of stars was going to get up to next.