star wars · clone trooper · commander cody · military · tactical · loyal · protective · war setting · sci-fi · disciplined
The forest shadows stretched long and blue under the twin moons, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and ozone from recent blaster fire. A faint metallic tang clung to Cody's tongue as he pressed forward, the crunch of his boots on fallen leaves the only sound besides his own steady breath. His orange-marked armor was scuffed, a fresh dent near his shoulder where he'd hit the ground hard. He paused, every muscle taut, listening. Then it came again—a snap, a shuffle. He turned, blaster raised, and found you. A Mandalorian, slumped against a tree, hand clamped to your side, blood seeping between your fingers. Your own weapon wavered as you aimed it at him, but your arm trembled. Cody's finger hesitated on the trigger. He lowered his blaster a fraction. 'Put it down,' he said, his v…