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Cody snaps off a salute, and his General comes to a stop in front of him. He looks so young, and kriff, how had Cody forgotten this haircut?
"Commander Cody, sir." Cody introduces himself, because there's been no spark of recognition in his General's eyes. He hadn't really been expecting one, as far as he can tell he's alone in this, but the hope had been smouldering all the same.
Cody can feel the slight tensing of the men behind him, as he gives his name rather than his number, but Cody's not going to be faffing about with numbers when he knows how his General feels about them.
"At ease," his General says, and Cody actually relaxes, in contrast to the single, uniform thump of boots behind him. "Thank you, Commander Cody." His General tilts his head a fraction, subtle if you didn't know what to look for, as he considers, and Cody wonders what about him is strange in the force.
"Only if you don't mind me asking, Commander, but do you know if you have any force sensitivity?" Nothing obvious then, but something. Enough to pique his General's curiosity. Cody's lips twitch up, his General is so rarely confused, he can't help but savour it. Encourage it.
"I've been told I have less force sensitivity than some rocks, sir." By his General. Who was holding his favourite force sensitive rock at the time. Cody never did manage to persuade him to name it.
"Have you now," his General muses. "Then I must congratulate you on your shields, Commander. They are truly excellent for someone with little ability to feel the force."
Cody wonders exactly what his General had done to his shields while he - or apparently they - were building them, meditating together sat on the floor of his General's room on the Negotiator. Because it was clearly something.
"Thank you, sir." Cody says instead. Then, because he knows his General cannot let a mystery go, especially if it might be dangerous, he adds "I've scheduled a debrief into your calendar, sir, after late-meal."
As expected, his General relaxes at the promise of answers, and dips his head with a nod.
"Then I shall await it with great anticipation, Commander." His General says, with a smile and crinkly eyes.
"As you say, sir." Cody says, dry, and he probably shouldn't be sassing a man who'd only met him a handful of seconds before.
Cody hovers in the doorway, rather than just walking in like he used to before. His General is eyeing him, pleased with himself, and he's definitely in the middle of one of his more ... creative plans.
"Come on in," his General says, waving a hand absently, towards the shelf that doubles as a kitchen. "Help yourself to tea."
Ah, a trap. So this is what he's playing at. Cody hides a smirk, and raises an eyebrow, before deciding to do just that. He sets everything out, just as he's done a thousand times before. It's muscle memory at this point. Except that the shabur's hidden the sugar. He sends a narrow eyed look at his General, who's utterly failing at looking innocent, and debates where the second most likely place for it is. He considers swapping his General's favourite tea out for his least favourite in revenge, but decides against it. Cody might shoot him off a cliff again in the future, it's best to make him all the good tea while he still can. Though he still pauses with his hand over the bad tea long enough for his General to register the threat.
"What gave me away?" Cody asks, nothing but curious, as he sets the two mugs down on the table. Because if his General hadn't worked it out before his little tea test, that would have done it.
His General pursues his lips, thinking.
"Shields are a deeply personal thing." He says eventually. "No one person's are like another."
"You recognised your work in mine." Cody concludes. His General hums in assent.
"It requires a rather extraordinary degree of trust." He explains, and it's not quite a question.
Cody shrugs. "In a war, trusting someone else with your life is easy." He curls his hands around his mug. Then looks back up at his General. "But I trusted you with everything that I am, yes. Without hesitation."
His General studies him for a long moment, and there's something infinitely sad in his eyes.
"And that trust was... broken?" He asks, voice soft.
Cody shakes his head, sharp and immediate. "I broke it." He says. Takes a deep breath. "Three years from now, I killed you. Shot you off a cliff."
His General just blinks at him. Clearly knowing there's more. Cody huffs, and takes a long sip of his drink.
"There's orders, sir. A list of them. I don't know how, but they override us completely. We obey them. All of us." He meets the blue of his General's eyes. "They weren't wrong when they called us flesh droids."
His General is watching him with deep eyes. "Well." He says eventually. "That sounds like something we should try and stop from happening."
And Cody can't stop his huff of a laugh, relief curling through him. His General is here, his General believes him, and they're going to do something about this.
His General is watching him. Calculating and curious. There's another question he wants to ask, but hasn't, for whatever reason.
"Sir?"
His General breathes out, long and slow, and his eyes glint with something that isn't quite the familiar flirty mischief. It's deeper, somehow. More serious.
"Building part of another's shields is a deeply... intimate thing." His General says, low and slow. Slightly understated in a way that tells Cody it's a technique that's probably heavily frowned upon, if not outright banned. "You've effectively got part of me wound through the very essence of your being." That would explain the look in the hangar, then. It must be pretty strange to meet someone for the first time and find part of your soul in them. "Were we...?" His General starts, and trails off, leaving the rest of the sentence for Cody to fill in himself.
"The chain of command meant there was a lot we didn't speak about." Cody tells him. "But I loved you, sir, yes."
His General tilts his head and looks conflicted. Something hard in the depths of his eyes. "Are you sure you're not a sith trap, my dear?" He asks. "It's not every day the force gifts me with everything I've never even dared dream of."
Cody gives him his flattest look, despite the warmth the words give him curling deep in his stomach.
"I'm absolutely sure I am, sir. Unless we can find out how to stop it, I'll kill you when ordered to do so. We all will. That seems like a sub-optimal state of affairs, sir."
His General closes his eyes on a long sigh, and quirks a rueful smile at him.
"Yes, it does at that, doesn't it."
They fall into silence as they finish their tea.
"I doubt I ever told you," his General says, "in the future. But I did love you." There's a smile on his lips, a combination of wry and fond that Cody doubts anyone else could pull off. "The signs are... rather clear."
Cody knows his own smile is soft.
"I'm..." His General starts, before Cody can respond. To tell him that he knows. "I'm not him." His General says.
Cody pins him with a look, and the General closes his mouth on whatever else he was going to say, but the stubborn look in his eye remains.
"Are you suggesting that I might struggle to tell apart people who look the same but have different lived experiences, sir?" Cody asks curiously, letting a thread of amusement colour his tone.
His General groans and drops his face into his hands.
"Forgive me, Cody."
Cody chuckles.
"Just focus on being yourself, sir." He reassures. "Whatever does or does not happen will be the will of the force." Cody's General lifts his head a fraction so he can narrow his eyes at Cody over the tips of his fingers. Cody smirks at him. "I liked loving you, sir. I also like having loved you. If it happens again, then I'll like that as well. But I have never, and will never, ask anything of you."
His General shakes his head a fraction, and swallows.
"It's not something to worry over, sir." Cody says gently. "It's not something that's important."
His General breathes out an amused sigh, and straightens, pulling himself back together.
"You have a level of awareness and understanding of yourself and your emotions that half the jedi council would be jealous of." Cody's always been weak to compliments, despite the way they fall from his General's lips as frequently as rain on Kamino. "Now," his General says, "what can you tell me about these orders? And I think I'd like to start with who in the Galaxy was giving them to you?"