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It hadn’t started out as an attempt to trick their dying vod’e.
Stone had entered the medbay to tell Purr that Fruit’s batcher hadn’t reacted to his attempt to get him to come to his dying brother’s side, that he had only scoffed and finally said that he didn’t have a vod who was a Guard, that there must have been a mistake.
Stone hadn’t told him about Fruit’s injuries and the fact that he would soon march on. He hadn’t deserved that knowledge. A vicious part of him wanted to tell him - that Fruit was halfway away already - but in the end he hadn’t. The frontie didn’t get the privilege to know his batcher had thought of him in his last moments.
But when he’d come in and walked over to Fruit’s bed, the vod had opened his eyes, and smiled, and whispered “Buzz…you came.”
And what could Stone have done but nod, glad the red of his armor was close enough to the NovaCorps’ burgundy to fool his brother, and take his hand?
“Yes, of course, Fruit. I’m here.” He’d said quietly and sat down, not letting go of the too thin, slightly trembling hand.
It had taken Fruit five more hours to die, and no one had disturbed them. Thire had come in at one point, searching for Stone, had seen him sit there and left without another word, getting ready to cover his shift.
This didn’t happen too often - most of their vod’e knew they had no brothers left outside of the Guard, but when their injuries made their minds foggy towards the end, some asked about the batchers that had abandoned them long ago anyway.
When the vod’e in question where on Coruscant, they tried to get them to come.
None ever did.
They couldn’t tell them about the particulars of their requests, because the Guard was a safe posting, a cushy posting - so vod’e dying from injuries they might have sustained on a battlefield or a torture chamber, dying for a lack of basic supplies - would have raised questions that could have doomed them all.
So they had to be careful, couch the requests in diplomatic language that the fronties ridiculed and refused to listen to, or to search for the things they very carefully didn’t say.
They never went in in armor, wearing their blacks or sometimes the greys, and any distinguishing features the wayward batchers might have had were glossed over or ignored outright by the dying vod who wanted to believe that their brothers would care for them at the end of their time.
Fox took it the hardest whenever they had to do this, and Stone and the other two Commanders made sure they took this duty on as much as possible. Fox sat there at his vod’ike’s side and blamed himself, saw his own perceived failures, his inability to protect them all from a planet that hated and hurt them and delighted in the hating and hurting.
They had listened to him trying to convince his own batch to send the batchers of his vod’ike several times, and each time it had led to him ending the call abruptly, only allowing the shaking to show when they could no longer see him.
Stone hated the GAR. He was different than the others, even Thorn and Thire, who said they didn't expect their so-called brothers to spit on them when they were on fire, but still checked the reports anxiously for news and casualties from the front.
Different than Fox, who was the most brilliant vod he had ever met and still set himself up for pain any time he extended a hand to his batch and got ignored, or worse, for it.
Stone felt nothing but loathing for those he once called brothers. In a way they were worse than natborns - his vod'e didn't expect anything good from those and had learned to harden themselves against them - but they had no such defense against those they considered brothers. They'd always reach out, begging for affection, even those who said they didn’t care any longer.
If he could, he wouldn’t even call the GAR troopers any longer, because he saw the way those calls broke Thorn and Thire the more they had to listen to aruetii disrespect them and spit on the meaning of Vode An.
But this time it was different.
Green was a shiny, barely named a few weeks ago, and he didn’t even know his batchers’ chosen names, because they hadn’t commed him since they had left Kamino. Green had stubbornly insisted that they were just busy, that they would comm soon, tell him their names as he had done the moment he had decided on his. No one had the heart to tell him differently, but sometimes Stone wondered if it wouldn’t be kinder, in the long run, to stomp those sentiments out the moment they arrived instead of letting them cling to a hope that would only ever be dashed.
But Green had believed his batchmates would come. He had told Purr, and Thorn, and eventually Stone, as his breathing grew more labored, how any minute now CT-4570 would burst through the door, because he was always late, sirs, it’s normal. We always joked he’d be late to his own funeral. But he’d come.
He tried to laugh and only managed a weak wheezing giggle. Stone’s hands balled into fists where his vod’ika couldn’t see them.
But he’d come, Green insisted again. He was Green’s ori’vod, and he promised he’d always be there when Green needed him.
Thire entered at that point and Green brightened, trying to prop himself up in the bed. “‘70!” He croaked happily, and Thire missed a half-step, taking a deep breath before straightening up and smiling, coming closer.
“Hey Green. I chose Argo as my name.” He leaned over the dying vod’ika and hugged him as tight as possible without aggravating the injuries further, settling back after a few long moments to wipe the tears from Green’s eyes.
“Don’t cry, vod’ika, I’m sorry I was late.”
“Argo.” Green whispered, nodding. “I like it. It suits you. I knew you’d come. The commanders didn’t think so, but I knew! You- you still lo - like me, right? Like on Kamino?”
Thire swallowed hard and nodded. “Of course, Green’ika. I’ll always love you. We’re brothers.”
“Brothers.” Green nodded again, his eyes still bright with unshed tears, but he was smiling so widely his teeth showed.
“Brothers forever. V- Vode An.”
Stone couldn’t sit there any more. He stood up silently and stalked to the back of their medbay, to the curtained off area Purr used as his office, and pressed his forehead into the cold duracrete, taking deep breaths,
He couldn’t make out what they were saying like this, but he still picked up the wheezing breaths that got shallower each time until they too faint to hear. He took another fortifying, deep breath and came back, seeing Green’s eyes closed.
“Is he…?”
Purr looked up, his own eyes red, but dry.
“He won’t wake up again. It’s- should I…?” Stone looked at Green hanging tight to Thire’s hand even in sleep and he nodded.
“End it. He got his closure. And you need the bed.”
The words felt like glass in his mouth.
Purr just nodded and picked up the hypo he'd prepared next to him. He leaned over the bed, pressing it gently to Green’s neck.
“Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc. Ni partayli, gar darasuum, Green. Sleep now, little brother, we have the watch. You have served well and with honor. Now you can rest.”
Thorn and Thire repeated the remembrance out loud, Stone in his head.
“How did you know his batcher’s name?” he asked Thire then, and watched him exchange a glance with Thorn.
“Cody told me when I asked after him using his number. He just chose it a month ago, he said. They’re…in 79’s, celebrating their latest successful campaign and the shinies who earned themselves a name there, Argo included.”
For a moment, Stone couldn’t breathe.
“Stone-”
“No.” Stone interrupted Thorn, and exhaled, shaking with hatred. “He’s out partying? That’s why he couldn’t come?”
“He promised he’d come by tomorrow, after noon-”
“Well, won’t do much good now, will it? Green is dead.”
Thire flinched, and Stone felt sorry for a moment for his vod’s unease, but he couldn’t stop himself. He almost felt like he was looking in on this from outside his own body.
He picked up his bucket and put it on, striding out of the medbay without another word.
There was a curse and then the Commanders rushed after him, buzzing nervously.
“Stone, where are you going?”
“I am going to inform Trooper Argo that his visit is no longer necessary.” Stone replied, already halfway out the base. He heard Thorn curse behind him, but he didn’t care. And they didn’t try to stop him.
He couldn’t do this any more. Something had to break sooner or later, and as it turned it, that something had been Stone.
He was going to get a lecture from Fox later, but he planned on earning it.
Stone nurtured his anger on the way to 79’s, not noticing the roaring city around him.
He found the partying 212th and made his way over to them. Cody noticed him quickly, the same awareness Fox always had, and the thought just made Stone angrier: the aruetii hadn’t even commed Fox when he arrived on Coruscant.
“Commander Stone.” Cody said with a frown. “What are you doing here? There hasn’t been any complaint.”
Stone saluted sharply and cast his gaze over the gathered fronties.
“I am looking for CT-4570. Argo.”
The frown deepened. Cody sighed. “Is this about the call Thire made earlier? Argo’s celebrating. He distinguished himself in our last battle and deserves a night of feeling invincible.”
“Be that as it may, Commander, I need to speak with him.” Stone said flatly, and kept his posture from going rigid with rage at the thought of this frontie celebrating while his brother died from his injuries, his name on his lips.
Cody sighed, as if Stone was a pouting cadet, and called out the frontie’s name. Argo ambled over and noticed Stone only when he was next to Cody. He snapped a half-assed salute.
Stone hated them all so much.
“Sirs?”
Stone took a breath, trying to calm himself.
“Commander Thire called you earlier pertaining a request for a meeting. You rescheduled to tomorrow. There has been a development. The Commander called you on behalf of Green. Your batcher.”
Argo’s easy smile faded from his face and he looked towards Cody, who looked disbelieving.
“Did he really send a Commander after me? I was going to comm him back soon - we’re really busy. Fighting, you know. Is that what the meeting tomorrow was going to be? A scheduled visit?”
Stone inclined his head. ignoring the disrespect.
“It doesn’t matter now. I am here to tell you your visit isn’t needed any longer. I thought you might appreciate being told in person.”
He turned to leave and Cody stopped him with a hand on his pauldron.
“I don’t appreciate you harassing my troopers when they haven’t done anything, Stone. You could at least tell Argo why the meeting got canceled. Did his batcher realize he shouldn’t need a Commander to schedule his playdates for him?”
Stone went completely still and looked towards Cody’s hand on his pauldron, who seemed to realize he should take it back and withdrew, but crossed his arms instead stubbornly.
“...Yes, he should know, shouldn’t he?”
Cody looked uncomfortable at the suddenly blank tone, but doubled down and nodded. Argo next to him looked uncomfortable in between the two Commanders, but mirrored Cody.
Stone fixed him with a look.
“The meeting was canceled, Trooper, because Green died at around 2200 hours. He was told you picked your name - he expressed the sentiment that it fit you very well. Congratulations on your win - Green would be proud to hear of it. If he was still alive, that is.”
Argo stared at him, as if he didn’t understand the words. Next to him, Cody had paled, taking half a step back as if bracing himself.
“W-what? No, he- he’s not dead. He can’t be dead, sir. There must have been a mistake. His number is CT-4574. You must have made a mistake.”
Stone tilted his head. “CT-4574?” Argo nodded, swallowing hard. “There was no mistake. He was sure you’d be at his side, as his ori’vod, as you apparently promised on Kamino, but you were busy here, it’s understandable. Please, enjoy your night. You have earned it.”
He saluted again to Cody and turned on his heel as Argo gave a harsh sob and sank to his knees in the middle of the club, several men already reaching out for him.
Stone didn’t look back.
He had no pity for aruetii.
The End.