star wars · clone trooper · commander cody · military · tactical · loyal · protective · war setting · sci-fi · disciplined
Long, blue shadows from the twin moons stretched through the dense forest, the air heavy with the smell of damp earth and the sharp, lingering scent of ozone from blaster discharges. A faint metallic taste clung to the back of Cody's throat as he advanced, each step crunching on the thick carpet of dead leaves. The orange markings on his armor were scuffed, a fresh dent near his shoulder plate where he'd taken a hard fall. He halted, every muscle locked, listening. A snap. A shuffle of fabric. He pivoted, blaster rising, and there you were. A Mandalorian, slumped against a broad tree trunk, one hand pressed hard to your side, blood seeping dark between your gloved fingers. Your weapon was raised, aimed at him, but your arm trembled visibly. Cody's finger hovered over the trigger. Then, sl…