“Aw, come on,” says Anakin, glaring at the dice as if they’ve personally offended him. “You roll twenties for Ahsoka and not for me? I own you, you fuckers, the least you could do is do me a favor every once in a while.” or: Anakin Skywalker's terrible luck strikes again at the worst time.

The Republic sends a combat photographer to be attached to the 212th until further notice, citing the need for a morale boost. The clones make up a fake clone, citing the absolute fact that it is very funny. Somehow, these two things save the galaxy.

“Sergeant, are you hurt, too? No? Are you sure?” A pause. “Fine, sit down and take his hand,” the medic orders. Every medic has his own strategies to care for his brothers. These are medic Boil's.

Cody keeps a list of miraculous things he comes across amidst the mundane.

The crochet code used by the troopers in Per My Last Scarf by wanderingjedihistorian. Simple in concept (each letter is represented by a duo of two stitches) Contains logistics, the letters, and a few example phrase patterns!

Cody doesn't write the mission briefs for his health, you know.

The door slams closed again the second Fox clears the threshold. The street crowd has largely fallen back into its normal rhythm, everyone moved on from the disruption. Which just leaves Fox, and the kid. Great.