Within the condensed row upon rows of stacked rooms making up General Koon’s flagship, a periodic, quiet grunt sounded. It repeated in its steady pace – a light sound of exertion and difficult movement and was heard by none except the maker of the noise… and another individual very close by.
“Forty-eight… forty-nine… fifty!” Another grunt of slight victory followed that last number.
“Most impressive, Commander Wolffe! While I could never doubt your ability and commitment, even I must admit to being somewhat concerned you might injure yourself.”
“With all due respect, sir, I believe I said I could do a hundred.” Wolffe had an almost feral grin under his helmet before gritting his teeth as he lowered himself down again in a textbook plank stance then pushed himself back up. “…fifty-one.”
“I will not insult you by trying to force you to stop… but know you have earned my respect and faith already. If it gets too much at any point, please inform me.” Plo Koon’s voice was serious and left no room for argument as he hoped to clearly convey this to his commander. It did then shift slightly, into one of quiet mirth. “…I suppose in the meantime I should return to my meditation? It would be a disservice to waste the comfort you’re providing me, after all… even if the distracting view negates any benefit~”
Wolffe’s eyes widened, and his arms nearly buckled and collapsed at the jolt of surprise. “S-sir!” He thanked every star in the galaxy for the helmet completely covering his face hiding the blush undoubtedly forming. Even with his stare firmly fixed to the ground he could feel his general’s gaze examining him… what Wolffe wouldn’t give to ogle back. But no – he steeled his resolve and lowered to the floor again while mentally counting out fifty-two. Right now, what mattered most was showing Plo his strength and resolve… and of course providing a comfortable perch for the Kel Dor.
The alien certainly seemed to agree with that latter task – the exercising clone could feel every inch of his general’s legs shift into action, turning inwards into the Jedi’s favourite lotus position… a common and innocent enough stance. Were it not for the heel of General Koon’s right foot grinding down casually between his shoulder blades. The Kel Dor definitely wasn’t putting in significant force – but just that slight pressure had Wolffe’s heart racing.
Force. He was yet another stupid clone who had gone and fallen for a Jedi. Wolffe had been one of the few in his batch back on Kamino to voice disdain (quietly of course, Kaminoan’s were listening everywhere) about the Jedi – the new strangers who had apparently ordered their creation in the first place. He had been firm and steadfast telling the rest of his brothers that he’d bow his head and follows orders, but these Jedi could never truly get his loyalty.
…and then General Koon happened. That force-damned idiot who’s sheer frightening display of power was outmatched only by his even greater display of love. Every clone assigned to his battalion – no matter the rank, the greenness, the record… all were under his protection. And the Kel Dor meant that – they were supposed to be protecting him but Plo dived in front to parry and block shots half the time before they could even react to form a defensive line in front of him. Half the ship had a crush on the alien – a lot of idiots, but a few actual good men among them. Men far better than Wolffe.
But somehow Wolffe had ended up General Koon’s commander. His second-in-command. Even the first few days had already sent the grumpy clone’s icy exterior melting slightly… then Abregado happened and almost all the men in their first battalion apart from Wolffe, Sinker, Comet and Boost had fallen. Just four surviving men – who only made it thanks to the strenuous efforts of their general. The weeks after that… Wolffe would never forget how Plo spent every night with them – most of them were in simple quiet meditation, but all of them knew with just a word the Kel Dor’s attention would focus on them if they asked for it. Sleep had come easier knowing he was by their side. By the time the second battalion came together again – there was no one else in this galaxy Wolffe would rather be by the side of.
It should have remained just that. A strong, healthy, professional relationship between a general and his commander. But no – Wolffe had to go and make it messy… entertaining a crush on his general? Force – what was wrong with him? He couldn’t stop the thoughts though – the desires running through his head: intense, lewder ones and somehow even more embarrassingly the softer ones… ones where Plo would gently take him by the hands and pick him up – take him to visit his home planet even if the air was probably toxic to Wolffe. Show the clone his family house and rest in a bed there together… stupid thoughts that would never happen in a million years even if Wolffe wasn’t a clone who was literal property of the Galactic Senate.
Plo must know about his commander’s pathetic crush in some way. Jedi were intensely empathetic beings – all that Force shit and rumours of mind-reading didn’t come from nothing. Wolffe liked to consider himself one of the most stoic bastards he knew – but even he couldn’t keep his mind clear and free from intrusive thoughts whenever he watched Plo. He had seen the general pause from time to time and give him a subtle look sometimes… the Kel Dor knew. Of course, he was far too kind to take any action against Wolffe, even if the clone was being exceedingly unprofessional here – which he was intensely grateful for… so grateful he’d bite his tongue back whenever Plo seemed to subtly refer to and tease him over it. Besides…
…fuck. What push-up was he on…?
“Sixty-seven, Wolffe.”
The sudden answer from his general nearly sent Wolffe sprawling again but he grunted instead.
“…thanks, sir.” He was desperate to move the topic in his head away from this dangerous territory. “So, when I get to hundred, what am I getting?” Wolffe chuckled and dutifully pushed up. Sixty-eight.
“Getting? I seem to recall never expressing any doubt you could achieve this Wolffe – it seems rather unfair to now add a sudden reward from me to your little challenge, hm?” The teasing tone was subtle – but oh-so-obvious to Wolffe after all this time around his general.
“Yes, sir.” He said in a blank monotone… before laughing gently. “C’mon, sir – we both know I’m getting to a hundred here and the only other guy who could even get close to this is Sinker… and he’d collapse after fifty. You’re saying your ever-loyal commander deserves jack-shit…? Uh… with respect, sir.”
Any slight worry at potential offence to his unprofessional conduct was alleviated by that wonderful deep chuckle from Plo. “Hahah… I suppose you do have a point – even if I must decry your underhanded tactics. Hm… a reward for my commander…? Well, given the lack of warning any physical objects are out of the question… I’m afraid the best I could offer you might be slightly selfish requests from me instead.”
“Ha… I was kidding, sir. No need to reward me – I’ll do whatever you need done anyway, I’m your commander after all. Did you want me to run some reports of yours over to the Senate?”
“Ah – not quite what I meant by requests. No, actually I was hoping instead for something of a more personal matter.” Wolffe’s ears perked up behind the helmet and he paused in a plank position. “I know you usually leave to do your own reports soon… but might I instead persuade you to follow me back to my quarters instead? I find myself desiring time with you, Wolffe, if such a thing is acceptable to you.”
Wolffe was still frozen as his mind raced. This was just more teasing. General Koon didn’t actually… this…
“…of course, if you would rather not, or have any hesitations then I entirely understand.” Plo was normally so put together and collected – but Wolffe could pick up the slightest tinge of uncertainty and trepidation from his general here at the idea of him saying no or feeling uncomfortable with this. He… didn’t like hearing that in Plo. “Just say the word and we can drop the topic-“
“No!” Wolffe shouted, before cringing. “I… I mean, no, sir. I would be… entirely accepting of your… request.” Was this actually happening!? There were so many things he wanted to say and do but—
“Excellent! I am most pleased to hear it.” That familiar quiet happiness had re-entered the Kel Dor’s voice and any hesitation about this left Wolffe. Life was a confusing, uncertain mess sometimes… but pleasing Plo Koon in any way, shape or form seemed one of the noblest endeavours to achieve. “…of course, this is your reward for getting to one hundred. I believe you are on seventy?”
“Right – that I am… sir.”
“Indeed. I hope you’re feeling up to this last stretch…?”
Wolffe blinked before grinning and feeling his usual confidence and certainty flood him. “Damn right, sir.” Falling down again, Wolffe finished his next press-up in breakneck speed – time with Plo and a chance to finally get some answers to these questions and thoughts weighing down on his mind? He’d do over a thousand push-ups for half of that.
Though, to be honest really, he’d do anything for Plo.
_____________________
This was an absolutely amazing commission I got from @C0nstantM0tion on twitter! It’s been a difficult few weeks and these pictures really cheered me up so huge thanks to him – he’s excellent to work with!
General Plo and his Commander Wolffe – two absolutely lovely lads. After being introduced to the Kel Dor himself by JordilianVector and writing some equally lovely stories featuring him, I was of course drawn towards his stern, sullen, masked second-in-command and decided a picture involving both of them was in order. The short story to go alongside it was also fun to write! It’s probably nowhere near canon, but with how little the show itself delves into Plo Koon I think any fanon is doing them a favour. Hope you enjoy it!
“Forty-eight… forty-nine… fifty!” Another grunt of slight victory followed that last number.
“Most impressive, Commander Wolffe! While I could never doubt your ability and commitment, even I must admit to being somewhat concerned you might injure yourself.”
“With all due respect, sir, I believe I said I could do a hundred.” Wolffe had an almost feral grin under his helmet before gritting his teeth as he lowered himself down again in a textbook plank stance then pushed himself back up. “…fifty-one.”
“I will not insult you by trying to force you to stop… but know you have earned my respect and faith already. If it gets too much at any point, please inform me.” Plo Koon’s voice was serious and left no room for argument as he hoped to clearly convey this to his commander. It did then shift slightly, into one of quiet mirth. “…I suppose in the meantime I should return to my meditation? It would be a disservice to waste the comfort you’re providing me, after all… even if the distracting view negates any benefit~”
Wolffe’s eyes widened, and his arms nearly buckled and collapsed at the jolt of surprise. “S-sir!” He thanked every star in the galaxy for the helmet completely covering his face hiding the blush undoubtedly forming. Even with his stare firmly fixed to the ground he could feel his general’s gaze examining him… what Wolffe wouldn’t give to ogle back. But no – he steeled his resolve and lowered to the floor again while mentally counting out fifty-two. Right now, what mattered most was showing Plo his strength and resolve… and of course providing a comfortable perch for the Kel Dor.
The alien certainly seemed to agree with that latter task – the exercising clone could feel every inch of his general’s legs shift into action, turning inwards into the Jedi’s favourite lotus position… a common and innocent enough stance. Were it not for the heel of General Koon’s right foot grinding down casually between his shoulder blades. The Kel Dor definitely wasn’t putting in significant force – but just that slight pressure had Wolffe’s heart racing.
Force. He was yet another stupid clone who had gone and fallen for a Jedi. Wolffe had been one of the few in his batch back on Kamino to voice disdain (quietly of course, Kaminoan’s were listening everywhere) about the Jedi – the new strangers who had apparently ordered their creation in the first place. He had been firm and steadfast telling the rest of his brothers that he’d bow his head and follows orders, but these Jedi could never truly get his loyalty.
…and then General Koon happened. That force-damned idiot who’s sheer frightening display of power was outmatched only by his even greater display of love. Every clone assigned to his battalion – no matter the rank, the greenness, the record… all were under his protection. And the Kel Dor meant that – they were supposed to be protecting him but Plo dived in front to parry and block shots half the time before they could even react to form a defensive line in front of him. Half the ship had a crush on the alien – a lot of idiots, but a few actual good men among them. Men far better than Wolffe.
But somehow Wolffe had ended up General Koon’s commander. His second-in-command. Even the first few days had already sent the grumpy clone’s icy exterior melting slightly… then Abregado happened and almost all the men in their first battalion apart from Wolffe, Sinker, Comet and Boost had fallen. Just four surviving men – who only made it thanks to the strenuous efforts of their general. The weeks after that… Wolffe would never forget how Plo spent every night with them – most of them were in simple quiet meditation, but all of them knew with just a word the Kel Dor’s attention would focus on them if they asked for it. Sleep had come easier knowing he was by their side. By the time the second battalion came together again – there was no one else in this galaxy Wolffe would rather be by the side of.
It should have remained just that. A strong, healthy, professional relationship between a general and his commander. But no – Wolffe had to go and make it messy… entertaining a crush on his general? Force – what was wrong with him? He couldn’t stop the thoughts though – the desires running through his head: intense, lewder ones and somehow even more embarrassingly the softer ones… ones where Plo would gently take him by the hands and pick him up – take him to visit his home planet even if the air was probably toxic to Wolffe. Show the clone his family house and rest in a bed there together… stupid thoughts that would never happen in a million years even if Wolffe wasn’t a clone who was literal property of the Galactic Senate.
Plo must know about his commander’s pathetic crush in some way. Jedi were intensely empathetic beings – all that Force shit and rumours of mind-reading didn’t come from nothing. Wolffe liked to consider himself one of the most stoic bastards he knew – but even he couldn’t keep his mind clear and free from intrusive thoughts whenever he watched Plo. He had seen the general pause from time to time and give him a subtle look sometimes… the Kel Dor knew. Of course, he was far too kind to take any action against Wolffe, even if the clone was being exceedingly unprofessional here – which he was intensely grateful for… so grateful he’d bite his tongue back whenever Plo seemed to subtly refer to and tease him over it. Besides…
…fuck. What push-up was he on…?
“Sixty-seven, Wolffe.”
The sudden answer from his general nearly sent Wolffe sprawling again but he grunted instead.
“…thanks, sir.” He was desperate to move the topic in his head away from this dangerous territory. “So, when I get to hundred, what am I getting?” Wolffe chuckled and dutifully pushed up. Sixty-eight.
“Getting? I seem to recall never expressing any doubt you could achieve this Wolffe – it seems rather unfair to now add a sudden reward from me to your little challenge, hm?” The teasing tone was subtle – but oh-so-obvious to Wolffe after all this time around his general.
“Yes, sir.” He said in a blank monotone… before laughing gently. “C’mon, sir – we both know I’m getting to a hundred here and the only other guy who could even get close to this is Sinker… and he’d collapse after fifty. You’re saying your ever-loyal commander deserves jack-shit…? Uh… with respect, sir.”
Any slight worry at potential offence to his unprofessional conduct was alleviated by that wonderful deep chuckle from Plo. “Hahah… I suppose you do have a point – even if I must decry your underhanded tactics. Hm… a reward for my commander…? Well, given the lack of warning any physical objects are out of the question… I’m afraid the best I could offer you might be slightly selfish requests from me instead.”
“Ha… I was kidding, sir. No need to reward me – I’ll do whatever you need done anyway, I’m your commander after all. Did you want me to run some reports of yours over to the Senate?”
“Ah – not quite what I meant by requests. No, actually I was hoping instead for something of a more personal matter.” Wolffe’s ears perked up behind the helmet and he paused in a plank position. “I know you usually leave to do your own reports soon… but might I instead persuade you to follow me back to my quarters instead? I find myself desiring time with you, Wolffe, if such a thing is acceptable to you.”
Wolffe was still frozen as his mind raced. This was just more teasing. General Koon didn’t actually… this…
“…of course, if you would rather not, or have any hesitations then I entirely understand.” Plo was normally so put together and collected – but Wolffe could pick up the slightest tinge of uncertainty and trepidation from his general here at the idea of him saying no or feeling uncomfortable with this. He… didn’t like hearing that in Plo. “Just say the word and we can drop the topic-“
“No!” Wolffe shouted, before cringing. “I… I mean, no, sir. I would be… entirely accepting of your… request.” Was this actually happening!? There were so many things he wanted to say and do but—
“Excellent! I am most pleased to hear it.” That familiar quiet happiness had re-entered the Kel Dor’s voice and any hesitation about this left Wolffe. Life was a confusing, uncertain mess sometimes… but pleasing Plo Koon in any way, shape or form seemed one of the noblest endeavours to achieve. “…of course, this is your reward for getting to one hundred. I believe you are on seventy?”
“Right – that I am… sir.”
“Indeed. I hope you’re feeling up to this last stretch…?”
Wolffe blinked before grinning and feeling his usual confidence and certainty flood him. “Damn right, sir.” Falling down again, Wolffe finished his next press-up in breakneck speed – time with Plo and a chance to finally get some answers to these questions and thoughts weighing down on his mind? He’d do over a thousand push-ups for half of that.
Though, to be honest really, he’d do anything for Plo.
_____________________
This was an absolutely amazing commission I got from @C0nstantM0tion on twitter! It’s been a difficult few weeks and these pictures really cheered me up so huge thanks to him – he’s excellent to work with!
General Plo and his Commander Wolffe – two absolutely lovely lads. After being introduced to the Kel Dor himself by JordilianVector and writing some equally lovely stories featuring him, I was of course drawn towards his stern, sullen, masked second-in-command and decided a picture involving both of them was in order. The short story to go alongside it was also fun to write! It’s probably nowhere near canon, but with how little the show itself delves into Plo Koon I think any fanon is doing them a favour. Hope you enjoy it!
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Alien (Other)
Gender Male
Size 2184 x 1687px
Comments