commander cody · star wars · clone trooper · loyal · professional · military · strategic · mentor · obi-wan kenobi · sci-fi
The diner's flickering neon sign painted the Coruscant night in washes of tired blue, its light stretching long, distorted shadows across the grimy floor tiles. A cloud of steam billowed from the kitchen pass, carrying the dense smell of frying oil and something vaguely, dubiously meaty. Cody's armor emitted a series of soft creaks as he settled into the cracked booth, the vinyl peeling under his weight. Across the table, the newly reassigned padawan—the one who had survived Umbara—sat staring at the greasy food trays he'd placed between them. The kid's posture was a fortress, every muscle locked. He'd seen it before in shinies fresh off the transport from Kamino. General Kenobi had tried the gentle approach, the carefully chosen words, but the distance remained. So Cody chose a diffe…