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not-really-a-writer · 1 year

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Just Another Day

Summary: Each year, Love Day is just another day for you... that is, until a sweet clone trooper comes into your life.❤️❤️

Clone trooper Kix x reader

Warnings: NON CANON HOLIDAY "LOVE❤️ DAY" stuff and concepts (It's basically Valentines' Day y'all) fluff, dating/new relationship dynamics. Kix is a sweeeeeetheart and that's my hc till i die!

If you had remembered what day it was today, then you certainly wouldn't have worn your red sweater. You would have worn anything else. Literally anything else but that.

But it was too late to go back home and change. You brace yourself as you enter your office tower in the city. While on the transit train, you couldn't help but be bombarded by ads and displays along the way - Constant reminders of the special day it was today. A day that you had forgotten.

It wasn't hard to remember. The corporations made sure of that. Rather, it was easy for you to forget because the day bore no special significance to you.

Love Day was a day meant to celebrate romantic love on your planet. It wasn't meant only for couples, who proudly wore red to signify their taken status - singles got in on it too, as the day was also a fun day for those who were 'ready to mingle' to advertise openly without shame by donning green clothing. Those in more complicated relationship statuses wore yellow to signify 'proceed with caution'...and those who were less inclined to advertise their relationship status always wore neutral colors on Love Day.

So ironically, you trudge into your office, red sweater announcing to the world: Stop! I'm taken. But you weren't.

There was someone. But you weren't together, exactly.

----

Months ago, the 501st made stop on your planet. Their blue and white armor wasn't a completely unusual sight. There were always clone battalions coming and going from the city during the war. Your planet's close proximity to Coruscant and its manufacturing and ship repair facilities made it a popular stop for Republic forces rotating to and from the battlefront.

So on one particular day during your lunch break, you noticed one of them in your office tower’s ground floor cafe with you. Sitting to observe, you saw him for the first time - the man you eventually learned was named Kix.

It took some time sitting there, quietly watching him, but you did gain enough courage to talk to him. He was taking an unusually long time going through the caf garnishes at the cafe. Perhaps he was unfamiliar with the syrups and creamers available for self-service and needed some help. You can't imagine that the Republic provided anything but the basic dirty-water tasting caf available for the clones. You wanted to show him how good it could be.

"So uh.... do you need some help?" you asked shyly, giving him your friendliest smile. Kix turned to you with his mouth full of something to say, but he just smiled instead. A quiet "Maybe" escaped his lips, the warm cafe lights reflected in the darkness of his bourbon-hued eyes.

"That one's rather plain," you had said, motioning toward the syrup bottle next to his hand.

"Really? It looks good though," he replied, turning back to you with that dazzling smile.

This earned a small laugh from you. "Well, you can't go just by looks. You gotta taste it first," you had said, reaching for a stir stick. Gently taking the bottle from his hand, you squeezed out a few drops onto the stick. You balance the thick syrup on the flat part of the stick and bring it up to his lips.

Maintaining his smirk, Kix took the stick into his mouth, tasting the syrup that you called 'rather plain.'

"It's good!"

"You don't think it's kind of plain?"

"Hmmm.. wait till you try this one!"

... and so went your afternoon. Chatting away and learning things about each other.

And one afternoon turned into two. And then three. And five. And then it became a regular thing where you would see each other whenever he was on your planet. And then you talked while he was away.

But you never agreed on anything official. You knew you had feelings for him. But did he have feelings for you? You weren't sure.

----

"Ohh, someone's got a boyfriend?" You hear one of your coworkers tease. Oh the joys of working being slightly older than your coworkers. They always seem immature.

"Yeah. I forgot what day it was," you toss over your shoulder. A phrase you had prepared on the tip of your tongue the moment you realized you had made a mistake in your wardrobe choice today.

You make your way to your desk, and your cubicle mate, Korr, turns when they notice you. Closer to them than you were with your other coworkers, they lean over to you before speaking. "So, are you and that guy... official now?" they ask. "Oh... no..," you mutter. "We're not like that. We haven't had that talk yet," you admit.

You had never had a real boyfriend before. And you weren't sure how things transitioned from dating into a real relationship. So this was all uncharted territory for you. And it made you uneasy. So you never brought it up with Kix no matter how much you wanted to. And you had wanted to since you knew Love Day was coming up. If you had someone this year, it would be the first time that happened in your life. It would have been perfect timing since Kix was on your planet just the week prior.

The work day goes on, and you continue to be assaulted by prying questions from your coworkers. "Doing anything special tonight with your boyfriend?" and "Awww, did he do anything sweet for you today?" and "What do you have planned for this evening?" All questions you had no answers to since you didn't actually have someone special. Today was just another day, you thought. You and Korr work in silence together. They knew you well enough to respect your privacy.

The long morning dragged until early afternoon when you finally take a break for lunch to the cafe on the ground floor of your tower - the place where you had met Kix. Upon returning from lunch you notice something on your desk. As you approach, you see a cloud of delicate blossoms gathered in a vase centered on your workstation. Korr lets you know they were delivered to your desk while you were downstairs at the cafe.

"Curious..." you mutter, thinking this must be a joke from your coworkers.

The blossoms give off a lovely perfume, an exotic scent as beautiful as the planet of their origin. These were no ordinary blossoms. You retrieve the note to see what you're sure is someone else's name. Someone who's cubicle number closely matches yours which would explain the mis-delivery. Who would give you such an ornate gift for Love Day of all days?

You open the small envelope attached to the vase and see a handwritten note from someone familiar to you:

Hey Sweetheart. Sorry I couldn't be there for Love Day. I wanted to give these to you in person. Thanks for making my life special. I can't wait to see you again. I hope these make your day a little brighter - Kix

A warm feeling spreads across your chest and your eyes begin to brim with happy tears. No one had ever done anything so sweet for you on Love Day or any other day for that matter. No one had ever called you a pet name like "sweetheart" before. No one had ever told you that you made their life special, or that they couldn't wait to see you again. Is this what it is like to be loved?

You wipe your tears before anyone sees, and settle down at your desk to get back to work. Korr says nothing because they know you're just as surprised as they are. But you can tell they are happy for you.

And you were happy for yourself as well. What a surprise it was to know that someone special was thinking of you on Love Day, even when you had forgotten. Suddenly you feel a little more confident in your red sweater. Turns out it was a special day after all.

#clone trooper kix x reader #clone medic kix x reader #valentines day fanfiction

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hoeforce-999 · 3 years

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Salvation

hunter x jedi-reader (female with she/her pronouns)

warnings: minor spoilers for bad batch season 1, angst, grief.

From a young age, you had been taught to handle anger with gentle hands and delicate words, steadily reeling it in so you did not unleash it on people who did not deserve it. As a child being taught the way of the Jedi, you had not understood the dangers of constant anger and fear, but you hadn’t even experienced much of that to begin with. You no longer had the innocent and naive mind of a child ready to take on the world, but rather the one of a war-stricken adult who no longer knew what she was fighting for. You found it harder to control your anger and easier to unleash it. But that was not how you were taught, so again and again, you meditated and focused on your breathing.

and

out

Your attempts to calm the sizzling anger running through your veins were in vain, it would not disappear or calm no matter how many breaths you took. With even more frustration than before you got up from the floor of your barrack and sat down on the little too hard bed. It groaned in response to your weight and even that made you want to rip the white linen apart. You missed the beds at the Jedi temple, they had been soft and welcoming after days of hard training. As you thought of the place you had once called home, the lightsaber hanging from your belt felt heavier than usual. Heavy with the knowledge that you had chosen to leave, heavy with the knowledge of what had transpired after, and heavy with the guilt that you had managed to survive. Of all great padawans and Jedi masters, the one who had left it all behind had been the one to make it out alive. A broken laugh escaped past your sealed lips and echoed through the room, reminding you of a time when that laugh had not been as broken. It felt like it had just been weeks ago since you had been sitting in this ship, surrounded by your unusual team, a group of misfits who somehow fit perfectly together, on your way to another mission. Sometimes those missions had not even felt like obligations, sometimes you had given in to that young Jedi still inside of you and regarded it as your big adventure to save the universe. As it turned out you had barely been able to save yourself, let alone the whole universe. The only way you had gotten out of that last mission with your life intact, had been thanks to your newfound family and their unrelenting wish to protect you. You closed your eyes as the memory of that horrid day engulfed you in a veil of darkness and sorrow. There would not come a day when you would forget how all those clone troopers around you, Depa Billaba and young padawan Caleb had turned their blasters towards you. You would not forget how you and Depa Billapa had fought to give the child a chance, a chance to survive as the universe turned against him. Then she had fallen, becoming an empty shell without the spirit of the warrior who had once been and now no longer was. The memory of her death was haunting and your whole body was shaking with the fury you had felt and still felt as if it had been engraved in your soul. Though your memory was the reminder of something from your past, the fear you had experienced was still palpable as you thought about how close you had been to meeting the same fate. There had been no doubt in your mind that you would fall next, join her in another life with the only regret that you did not get to bid your farewells to your squad. Almost as if they had heard that silent wish to see them again, they had appeared with their blasters raised and saved your life. One of them, in particular, had fought as if his life depended on it. His chestnut-colored hair had been all over his face as he finally got to you, that red bandana he always wore was in his hands as he carefully put it around one of your wounds. He had been so tender with you as if his touch would have been the last point for you to break. It might have been, had you not been so caught up in the fact that whatever had gotten over the other clones, had left your friends alone. You had been relieved for all of them, but most of all for him, the clone who somehow had managed to take up such a big place in your heart that it had become his.

Hunter, Hunter, Hunter

You escaped your memory and forced it into the darkest corner of your mind, wishing to never again experience it again. Instead, you tried to focus on his name, tried to busy your mind with thoughts of what he was doing or things he had said to you. He was usually enough to calm the distressed state you seemed to fall into more often now, but not today. It seemed as if all your tries to calm your anger and fear were hopeless, for you could only feel them rising as a force strong enough to drown you. When you felt how the darkness grew inside of you, you thought back to the words a certain Jedi master had repeated time after time, etching them into every young mind so they would not forget.

Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.

You had not forgotten and neither had the warning bells ringing in your mind, but for such a long time you had been fighting against that dark part of you and you were growing so damn tired. This was a battle you had been struggling to win for some time now, and you were on the brink of giving up. It felt as if you should, perhaps then you could become stronger and actually do something for this universe. Maybe you would be able to bring your other friend back, the brother who had left and when given the choice, had turned his back on you again. You had been so furious as he stayed on the platform in front of a destroyed Kamino, there had been so much rage towards a universe that seemed to take everyone away from you. The darkness inside of you relished in your anger and the guilt that gnawed at your soul, and then it started to soothe you with silent promises of what you could do, who you could become if you only gave in. You could have sworn that the darkness sighed in relief as you leaned further into its embrace, perhaps this would be for the best.

yes, you can have so much more and that was true, right? You would have more power than you had now, you would be able to save everyone you loved and never have to experience that heavy feeling of loss again.

yes, yes and so much more it chanted inside of you, drawing you further and further into it and you could almost have laughed because this was so much easier and not so horrid as those Jedi masters had preached to you. Somewhere in your head, those warning bells were still ringing, that young Jedi in you still fighting for dear life but you could do nothing else but savor how welcoming the darkness felt. It was becoming you, it became every breath you took, every beat of your heart, and every memory you had until they were all clouded by the same rage you had felt for weeks. This was not giving up, this was giving in to something else, something that would make your life more bearable. You were not even aware of your own body anymore, it felt as if you were floating away from it or perhaps sinking so deep into it, you would never escape.

This is the right choice, you will be one to fear and never again feel fear yourself. You will do so much for the universe that gave you so little. You will-.

The chants inside of your mind were interrupted by a buzzing sound, and as you tried to locate the interruption you realized that it was not a buzzing sound but rather a soft voice calling your name. Oh, and your name on his lips always sounded like the soft drizzle of syrup and so that darkness in you was momentarily interrupted by Hunter.

This is just a memory, he is not real. You hummed in response, the darkness was right, this was just a ploy played by your own mind. Once again you found yourself sinking deeper into those feelings of rage, grief, and despair. Though it was as if you could still hear his voice saying your name, and then his hands were on your shoulders, shaking you as if he somehow could wake you up from a nightmare you had chosen to dwell in. He must be able to sense the change in you, that was one of his enhancements after all, hypersensitive to everything around him. Your name on his lips and his hands on your body ignited a battle inside of you, for just as there was a wish to forget there was a desire to hear more words from him.

“Cyar'ika, I can’t lose you too.”

Right, if you succumbed to the darkness you would lose him. He who had saved you in so many different ways that it felt as if you had a hundred debts to pay him. Maybe he was enough, maybe you did not need all this power that the dark side promised you. Perhaps his hand in yours would be enough for you to keep on fighting and as if he could hear your thoughts, his grip on your shoulders tightened. You knew then, that he would always be enough for you and so you joined the young Jedi in you and started fighting, fought for the girl who had once believed she could save everyone, fought for the friends she had lost, and fought for the love she had gained. Your whole body shuddered as you tried to force that darkness out of your mind, it was backing away slowly, not really wanting to give up this battle. But it would, because when you finally gained control of yourself again and looked into Hunter’s eyes the love that shone in them would have been enough to shatter every ounce of darkness in the universe. The anger and fear you had felt had vanished, never gone but perhaps tamed, and you let out a gasp, almost as if you had been drowning underwater. His hands were on your face and a small smile formed on his lips as he saw that you were you again.

“Hi.” You could not help the small smile that tugged on your lips either, there was just so much relief that you had not given in and that this man once again had managed to drag you out of your inner despair. You lifted a hand to stroke some of his hair away, it was soft as velvet beneath your fingers. He leaned forward to rest his forehead on yours, his hard grip on your shoulders remained as if he was scared that you would vanish again if he let go. So he kept on holding you and you kept on twirling his hair, both relieved that the other was whole.

“Glad to have you back.” He whispered and you promised yourself to never again let yourself be so close to letting him go. The darkness had been wrong, you did not need anger or power to never feel fear again. The only thing you needed was to stay with the person who would make it all bearable. Sometimes a person finds pieces of their soul in another, and when that happens you need to cling to that someone with all you have, for they are your salvation. He was yours.

#the bad batch x reader #the bad batch #the bad batch hunter #hunter x reader #hunter x jedi-reader #hunter x you #hunter x y/n #bad batch hunter #star wars x reader #star wars imagines #bad batch imagines #the bad batch imagines #crosshair x reader #tech x reader #wrecker x reader #echo x reader

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uponrightful · 3 years

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Welcome Company pt.3 "Nightmares & Knocks on the Wall"

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone! You're all so wonderful! <3

Much to her dismay, the rain didn’t let up into the morning. From out the window deep puddles had begun collecting on the street, and not even the drain grates were keeping up. Further in the distance she looked out at the barracks roofs, before checking the holopad on her side table. First, a message from Rex.

“Everyone made it back in one piece. Only I heard that you weren’t accepting multiples for the next two days. I hope it’s nothing to do with you, and all to do with one of my vod.”

It was all in good faith. Rex wasn’t subtle when it came to his proclivity of being protective. Once a simple stomach virus put her out of hosting troopers for a week, only to find Rex banging on the door, insisting to let him in. Unfortunate Kix had been drug along on his only day off to make certain that she wasn’t in more serious condition than she was letting on. Admittedly, a week was a bit too long. But it was all because she didn’t want any of them getting sick either. But at that point she wasn’t aware of their modified immune systems. They physically couldn’t get sick from her if they wanted to.

“You need a week’s rest after losing this much water… But we can’t get sick anyways. It’s just a nat-born thing doll.” Kix had said with a sheepish smile. He was always one of the sweetest boys, and she couldn’t help but love when he had the opportunity to come and see her. Plus, not many clones drank tea, preferring the more immediate effect of caf. But Kix always asked if she had some type of tea in stock. To his surprise, she always kept a variety for him to choose from.

She calmed Rex’s fears with a simple response. One that would surely make the Captain, and all those who were made privy quite clear on why the key was no longer under the porchlight.

“I’ve got a Wolf at home.” She smiled at the immediate response.

“Be careful. I’ve heard they bite.”

And with that, she left the holopad on her bed and made her way to the kitchen where the most silent breakfast on Coruscant was made every morning. Apparently Wolffe liked a sweet breakfast. Something she hadn’t expected out of such man as himself. But nevertheless, she thought about making his “flat bread and blue sauce” with a smile. She took a moment to type on the kitchen’s holoboard, unable to resist in using Wolffe’s own description of her meal. The blue fruit was easy to reduce into a thick syrup with the right amount of sugar and Dac honey that left the best aftertaste. As for Wolffe’s “flat bread” that was all homemade as well, with a recipe that her mother used when she was growing up. It wasn’t a normal breakfast for any of the other boys, who usually preferred more meat, and a little heavier bread. But when the Commander hadn’t been specific to what he’d wanted, the girl couldn’t help but jump at the opportunity to give a clone something sweet.

It was quite evil really, where the Kaminoans hardly let them eat anything other than ground vitamins compressed into a crumbly bar. However seeing as Wolffe practically devoured the entire plate, it was more than acceptable in her conscious to let him have whatever he wanted.

Blue sauce or not. She gave a little snicker at that.

When the first creak of the floorboards whined, she packed up the remaining things on the counter and slid the first helping into the hotbox. And she carried the second back into her wing, where a smaller kitchenette shared the same wall. There she could finish the second -and third helpings- without hardly a second wasted gathering everything. Only once she was back in the smaller kitchen did she hear the tap in the kitchen turn on. A glass filling, and then a long pause before the glass was filled again. She’d just finished the second plate of food when the hotbox light turned green on her side, signaling that the door had been opened and filled.

After hearing a few steps taken away from her, she gave a soft tap as to draw his attention back.

When the light turned red a wave of accomplishment flooded her entire body. Warmth radiating out to her fingertips and toes in a positively addictive way she still couldn’t get enough of. But the deep rumbling sound of the Commander’s voice had her almost stumbling backwards.

“What you’re doing here is… well appreciated.”

Her throat contracted in terror, wondering if he meant for her to reply back. He was the one who said no contact… but she had said it would be possible for her to hear him. So maybe not? In the pause of silence, she hoped he would make it a little clearer.

For a long while she sat on the kitchen counter, replaying the sound of the Commander’s voice in her head. Trying to figure out why he was so good at confusing her without even doing anything that she hadn’t already seen or heard. The troopers all had their differences that slowly came to the surface, whether it was their personality, or even the small idiosyncrasies that they did their best to hide from those who wouldn’t approve. Yet the Commander was able to prove himself far unique to his brothers without even a full-hearted attempt at it.

The red light turned green again, and she repeated her process with the third stack of pancakes. A new record for him. Another little secret she liked to keep from even the closest of the men. Getting them to eat -maybe a little more than usual- always made her happy. Men that hardly ate anything in comparison to their body mass was practically insane. So allowing them to eat until they felt truly full, that was well worth it.

Again she felt her heart in her throat when the lowest, quietest chuckle permeated the walls and made it to her ears. His laugh was thicker than the Bluefruit syrup, and she couldn’t help but think that it was so much sweeter. Sinfully so.

“I’m full.” She heard him shut the door to the hotbox. “But… I’ll make you a deal.” Her heart practically stopped when another low rumble of a chuckle reached her.

“I had my breakfast, and after making all that I’m sure you haven’t eaten. So I’ll sit and wait for you, then I’ll clean your dishes like you’ve washed mine. I also want to see an empty plate.” He paused, waiting for her to make the next move.

It was enough to have her hands shaking as she reached for the door to the hotbox. There was no way on Coruscant she would be able to finish one of those pancakes, let alone the entire trooper-sized portion she’d made. Taking a deep breath, she stilled herself to open the door where she found the plate still sitting. Only this time there was silverware sitting next to the plate, and a glass of the milk she’d offered Wolffe during his last stay. Kriffing hell…

She ate almost everything, much to her surprise. But after realizing that she hadn’t eaten since long before his arrival it wasn’t really that hard to believe that she was hungry. Only then did she return the dishes to the box, and give a slight tap. Even shuffling out of the way of the box, like it would be remotely possible for the Commander to see her through the closed side. A second later, dishes were shuffled out of the box and over into the sink where the tap was turned on without a single word from Wolffe. The glass clinked against the plate as the girl imagined just what it looked like to see the tall soldier bending over her sink with his sleeves pulled up high enough not to get wet.

What a sight it would be. Big and tough Commander Wolffe of the 104th Attack Battalion, doing dishes for her. Motivation aside, the girl found herself wishing that she could just peak around the corner and get a small glimpse. But with the way she was struggling to keep her breathing under control, Wolffe would hear her coming a mile away. Instead she just closed her eyes, letting her overactive imagination roam far further than she’d normally allow; Picturing that same little slip of skin showing sinewy muscles over his hips and lower back.

Maybe Rex’s warning wasn’t as big of a joke as she’d thought…

***

Wolffe didn’t know what it was that made him do it. What possessed him to break the limit he’d set during his stay. At the same time, he was wondering if he could change his mind. Hearing the door to the hotbox answered at least one question he had. She could open it from the back side, which probably meant that the house was mirrored. But his overly confident assumption that she’d not eaten had spilled out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Basely, he knew it was the unconditional acts of kindness that made Wolffe so willing to do something in return. Even if it meant bargaining with this girl on the other side of the wall.

But all his excuses didn’t account for why she’d obliged his request. Either she didn’t mind, and -hopefully- took it as an act of camaraderie. Or she was too frightened to say no. Maybe he’d scared her with his tone and she didn’t feel comfortable saying otherwise. It made his chest burn with the desire to ask her, and maybe find out what she thought about him. But that kriffing holopad he’d filled out lingered. Maybe she was just trying to abide by the rules he’d set for his stay. Most importantly, he wanted to know if he could change those boundaries.

He’d have to wait for the right time.

Until then, he’d do his best to not make a complete ass of himself by staying out of the girl’s way so she could live in her house as freely as she would if he wasn’t here. In fact, he was already in the mindset to find that strange chair of hers, and take a closer look at it. Wherever she’d got it, it must’ve been important enough to fix it, or leave it like it was.

He kept a sharp eye open for the girl, or maybe a way for her to get around so quietly. But as he opened the door to the room with the strange rocking chair, he couldn’t see anything particularly different about the house that would aid in the girl’s sneaking ability. Inside the small room Wolffe spent a little time examining the room around him better. A small shelf with flimsy books sat on the opposite wall of the rocking chair, and despite their being carpet in the room there was a fur-like rug that covered most of the room in even more cushioning. It felt warm in here, despite the rain that still poured out of the sky and a two lights in the opposing corners of the room left a yellow glow so unlike anything Wolffe was used to.

Mechanics wasn’t something Wolffe thought himself an expert on. But for some reason on another he could himself squatting down to get a better look at the chair in question. He pushed on the armrest, letting the chair rock back and forth a couple times, before guiding a hand under the curved blades that the chair used to rock. The wood felt smooth, and planes flat to a degree of accuracy that finally made it obvious to Wolffe that the chair had been made that way purposefully. He smiled in appreciation of the strange chair before taking a careful seat in it. Fully prepared this time for the falling sensation that followed his weight transfer.

“I’ve never…” he murmured quietly, doing just as he had before; Rocking himself until the perfect rhythm had his body pulling him towards sleep. Even with the soft glow of the lights, Wolffe didn’t have any trouble falling asleep in the middle of the day. For the second time in his life.

His deep breaths could be hear in the room across the hallway where the girl had curled up on the couch under the window to keep an eye on the on-coming storm clouds. He wasn’t aware of her protective watch over him, looking much like he himself did when taking his turn on overnight patrols. But instead of a blaster in her hands, she held thickly yarned material to which she looped over and over again in hopes that she would have these last few blankets done before Wolffe and his brothers were called back out for another three months.

***

He slept late into the evening, sprawled across the rocking chair with his arms locked tight across his chest, holding onto as much body heat as he could. Even in this safe place, he desired that warmth. The books on the shelving caught the attention of his drowsy mind, pulling him out of the comfortable chair and towards a book with a red leather cover. A gold substance had been used to highlight the letters stamped in the spine. Carefully he pulled the book out and let the thin pages flutter apart, almost stunned at the ancient way people used to read. He’d never seen anything other than a holopad. After reading a small portion, he realized that it wasn’t meant for adults. It was for children.

Surprisingly the language was very simple, and many rhymes were used. Wolffe couldn’t remember ever being given anything that wasn’t meant for learning. A little story about some fictional creature hardly had any meaning behind it. But something about the knowledge of the book itself made Wolffe that much more aware of how different he was from the girl living here.

He wasn’t made to live in a house like this. Or speak to civilians in the way he had earlier. He was anything but domestic, as much as he thought it would be a nice way to live. This warmth, and a childhood hadn’t been afforded to him, simply because there were others who inarguably had priority over him. Offering to fight a war was much different than being created for one. And the girl letting him stay in her house, wasn’t born for this. She chose to involve herself in the ugly, bloodstained duty of being a clone trooper.

He put the book back, and turned to see a sign attached to the door in that same pretty handwriting;

I hope you slept well, Commander.

Dinner is ready, at your convenience.

Sleep, eat, repeat. A viciously addictive cycle if he’d ever seen one. Only now, he’d have something else to do after dinner.

Wash dishes.

Another smile tugged at his lips as he made his way back to the kitchen. Where a green hotbox light shined. He ate slowly this time, pacing himself through the meal in the hopes that the girl had made seconds out of habit. Not even the well-prepared food was enough to keep his mind off of his little plan. In fact, he was more excited to see an empty plate come back through the door than anything he’d experienced in the house so far.

He sat the plate in the box, and waited for the green light to appear again. A muffled sound of shuffling on her end indicated that habit preceded her memory of that morning, and his heartrate quickened. He found clean silverware and filled a glass with water, before stilling himself enough to speak.

“Did you eat dinner?” He waited with baited breath.

Two knocks on the hotbox door.

He couldn’t help but smile at her quick thinking. Even with his willful interaction she was more than capable of speaking without breaking their agreement.

“Is that a no?”

One knock.

“You remember the deal?”

Knock.

“I’ll be waiting then.”

Wolffe took a seat on the floor, and rested his head against the cabinets. There he closed his eyes and tried to imagine what the girl on the other side looked like. Rex had said she was small, but when a trooper called anyone small that could mean almost anything. He had no idea about anything else other than a powerful disposition towards troopers, and a great talent at cooking which had proven itself after one meal. But he wanted to know what she sounded like.

“Do you talk to my brothers?”

Knock.

“How many have they stayed here?”

A quick succession of raps on the door put her point across.

“I’m not surprised…” He trailed, rubbing the back of his neck much like a shiny after being sat on his ass during hand-to-hand training. “Do you live alone?” Not the best question.

Knock.

“Do you like us?... Clones?” He asked.

Knock. Very heavily intonated.

Yes. He translated. “It seems as if you’re the guardian angel of the entire clone command.”

Before there was another knock, he heard the hotbox door again and the green light appeared. Wolffe pushed up his sleeves and opened the door to see an empty plate, saved for half of a roll that she’d left untouched. Even though it wasn’t what he wanted to see, he left it unmentioned and went about getting hot water running. In the meantime he tried thinking of another yes or no question.

“Do you feel safe with my brothers here?”

One firm knock sounded.

He hesitated, holding the glass up in his hand to see a visible bottom lip imprinted on the rim. A pretty shape and full. With what appeared to be a lip balm that had helped the print stick better.

“What about me?”

The heaviest knock of them all, this time against the wall instead of the hotbox.

“I’m not a good man. No matter what anyone says about me.” He argued against her fervent response, wondering for a second if she’d damaged the wall hitting it that hard.

Knock. Knock.

He shook his head, and placed the freshly washed dishes to the side of the sink to dry. He stared hard at the wall, like if he looked hard enough the wall itself would disappear and reveal the girl behind it in all her stubborn pride of the troopers.

“If you let me stay, you’ll find out just how bad I am for anyone. Even you.”

The girl either let him have the last word, or understood what he meant clearly enough that she’d decided to let him be. It was the end of their conversation. An end that had ended particularly so, due to Wolffe’s own fault to which he wasn’t very contented with. But that didn’t keep him from going back upstairs to check the messages left on his vambrace. Even off-duty he was still being bombarded with battle-front updates and the occasional check-in by vod, or General Plo. To his surprise, nothing came of his check. Not a single status report or comm had reached him in almost twenty-four standard hours.

Whether by luck or piss-poor stamina Wolffe wasn’t awake for much longer. Fully engrossed in self-doubt combined with the ever-present rain he didn’t last long before the worst of his memories came to disrupt whatever sleep his body had demanded of him. Loud screams, a clenched jaw and tightly fisted hands were all that Wolffe had to fight off the seemingly endless amounts of battle droids maniacally laughing as they approach him, and his pack.

***

Thunder boomed, shaking the whole house with a ferocity that rivaled the deep shouts and screams coming from the commander’s room upstairs. Lightning crackled in deep gashes over the dark shy, flashing light into all corners of the dark house. If anything could make Wolffe’s night better, shutting out the horrendous storm would be a good start. But at this point, there was nothing the girl could do to help. Wolffe had been adamant that he wasn’t good. But the screams she had been hearing were anything but the sounds of an evil man. He was hurting. Fighting for his life and there was no doubt in her mind Wolffe was already close to losing despite only hearing him for the past few minutes.

She stood stiff at the door to his room, hand hovering over the knob debating on whether or not to go in. It was dangerous to walk in. All the troopers -Wolffe included- kept their blaster in the room with them. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d walked in to soothe a nightmare only to be at the business end of a blaster, primed and humming with a finger over the trigger. Even Rex had been less than an inch away from putting a fist-sized hole in her chest.

But Wolffe’s screams were getting louder. So much so that his voice was breaking from the exertion and her own heart was getting heavy enough to make her sick. The Commander wasn’t giving her much of a choice anymore. So without much more of a thought, she opened the door as quietly as possible. She spotted his blasters right off the bat, sitting far out of reach on top of the tall dresser across from the bed.

“Sinker!” Wolffe thrashed against the bed, his head jerking back and forth. “Fuck… s-stay.” He whimpered, settling long enough for his mind to being recreating the next horror for him to endure.

The girl avoided the loudest floorboards and made her way over to his side, just far enough out of any danger while trying to think of the best way to help. She wasn’t sure that speaking would help. In most cases they hardly heard her, or their mind translated it badly enough that it made things worse. She leaned back quickly, staying out of his swinging arms range.

Touch… you know it works. He just needs touch.

Wincing and preparing for a hard hit to the face she placed a hand on Wolffe’s head. It didn’t quite help the way she’d hoped but it did limit the range of motion on one arm well enough that he’d at least hit her arm first before making contact with her head. Doing her best to avoid his scars, she ran her fingers through his hair. Doing anything she could to contradict the physical sensations he was used to experiencing. His sweat slicked hair curled around her fingers as she repeated the process of sweeping it back away from his damp forehead. Wolffe had barley settled, and she resorted to the only thing she thought might work.

“Shhh, Wolffe… you’re safe.” She whispered, brushing the pad of her thumb over his eyebrow; Paying close attention to the deep lines slowly fading from between his brows. “Sinker is safe, Wolffe. Everything’s okay.” Her voice softened, with the his body’s less frequent lurches.

“That’s it Wolffe, you’re doing great. Let go.” She soothed, letting her fingers trace over the scar above his eye. Another crack of lightning had Wolffe practically shivering and the girl cursed under her breath. It was almost useless with all of the thunder. He was going to wake up far sooner than she was going to be able to stop the storm.

She continued her soft touches over his face, humming a low tune she’d heard from Cody many times. He told her it was Mando’a almost like a lullaby. Whether Wolffe knew it or not, she wasn’t sure. But it had worked a couple of times before and she was running out of options. It wasn’t an easy song to sing. Most of the notes were far too low for her to reach, but she did her best to mirror it that same way Cody did.

Miraculously, it was working. Although he was still shaking like a leaf, his face had slowly begun to relax and the constant stream of strained whimpers and yelps had almost completely stopped. A deep breath filled his lungs, and she smiled victoriously. Running her hand back into his hair, she lightly scratched her nails against his scalp. Still humming that ancient song low in the back of her throat. Her eyes trailed Wolffe’s deep scar, and how dangerously close it had come to ending his life. Although she knew better than to say it, she was happy he’d survived.

Wolffe began to stir just enough that she felt confident in refraining from touching him anymore. She’d been lucky not to wake him up. But it appeared that Wolffe wasn’t keen on the idea himself. His arm closest to her searched out, bumping into her leg and immediately grabbing at her. Heavy, and hot his hand tried to find purchase on her bare leg before finding the hem of her shorts and tugging at it.

Touch starved.

She knew about how many of the troopers sleeping together. How two men to a bunk wasn’t unusual, and oftentimes they forwent bunks altogether and slept in piles. She watched Wolffe’s expression turn frustrated with every effort he put in going unrewarded. But she really didn’t know what he wanted. So she reached for his hand, and tried to slip her fingers between his fisted hold on her bottoms attempting to draw his attention away from the fabric. Apparently, Wolffe wanted nothing to do with it. He’d gotten just enough of a hold to actually pull her closer to the bed, and she yelped when a few stitches in the hem popped.

She huffed in frustration, and finally gave in to the adamant requests of the Commander. Pulling his hand away took quite a bit of effort -no doubt stretching out her shorts- but when she was finally free she settled herself down next to him. She leaned her back against the headboard, and waited patiently for Wolffe to figure out where he wanted to be. By the time the Commander had gotten comfortable his head rested on her upper thighs with an arm slung over them; His huge hand curling around to the back of her thigh in a tight hold. His other arm had wedged itself behind her and his fingers had fisted themselves into the fabric at the waistband of her shorts.

Wolffe practically clung to her, every so often jumping at the thunder, resuting in an even tighter grip on her hip and leg. She did her best to calm him, returning her fingers to his hair and humming to keep the sounds of the storm at bay. But after a few hours of consistently tight holds on her legs, she could feel the soreness of bruises beginning to form on the back of her thigh. It was the closest any of the troopers had ever been, and despite the anxiety of how she was supposed to get up without disturbing him, a part of her wished that she didn’t have to. Wolffe was unreasonably warm, running a temperature far higher than she did. But it wasn’t too far of a jump to assume that all the men ran hotter than a nat-born. It was frustratingly relaxing to feel such consistent heat, and she was certain that was what Wolffe was wanting too.

The girl took the opportunity to admire his features; At least the ones not hidden in her legs. He had a strong jaw, and the sensitive skin on her thighs proved he’d not shaved in a few days. The mental image of Wolffe standing in front of a mirror to shave sounded wildly domestic, yet contradictorily part of his clean-cut persona. His scar was barely visible, but she tried not to dwell on it just for his own benefit. It was obvious how desperately he tried to hide it. Even when he walked down the street towards her house he wore his bucket. Hardly any off-duties wore them voluntarily. The helmet gave him a way of looking identical. Thick strands of hair shined a hue of blue in the moonlight, so dark that it almost disappeared into the shadows of the room. As for the curls, it was a wonder that he could keep it in the style he wore without a couple loose strands falling onto his forehead. It seemed Wolffe couldn’t get away from being professional even when it came to his hair. Even the thought of Wolffe having tattoos like his brothers sounded practically unbelievable. Yet with the blacks coming up high on his neck, and the sweats she supplied, there was no telling what kind of ink the Commander could have hidden away under his clothes.

But here, he couldn’t hide. Not with the way he’d soothed himself to sleep by burying his face into her shirt. Wolffe came into her house looking like the true embodiment of duty and honor. A soldier who took orders with full confidence, and not a single ounce of question. Not just a clone, but a warrior. Laying here though, he looked like man who needed something more than battle plans and a gun. A person who desired purpose, but wanted a choice in what that purpose was. The girl knew Wolffe wanted a life.

She spent the night putting braids into Wolffe’s hair, twisting little knots just to let them fall out. Of course she tried to stop multiple times after her fingers begun to get stiff, but the fussy Commander wouldn’t allow it. He’d fidget and complain silently until she found another way to pacify him through the night, either tracing her fingers down his back or running her nails over his scalp. It was an enjoyable affair, watching him respond so willingly to her simple comforts but she had to remind herself that it wouldn’t last past night. By morning she’d need to make breakfast, and be back to hiding away like he’d requested. He wouldn’t remember anything other than a lack of nightmares, and that was the way she had hoped it to be.

But sleep didn’t just come for Wolffe.

It came for the girl just as quickly as it had for him.

READ PART 4

#commander wolffe #ofc x commander wolffe #commander wolffe x ofc #clone trooper wolffe #the wolffepack #wolffe #104th battalion #104th attack battalion #the clone wars #tcw fanfic #tcw #clone x reader #clone x ofc #welcome company #bluefruit pancakes #104th x reader

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mcklunkers · 3 years

Text

Welcome to day 6 of random Star Wars shitposty headcanons!

I’m so sorry btw, some of these ended up kinda angst 😬

-Mandalorians have Flannel shirt energy. Like they just wear flannels in their down time. Always. Their pyjamas? Flannel. First date? Flannel. If they’re not on the battle field, they’re wearing flannel. Jango Fett wore flannel boxers for good luck. The one day he didn’t wear them Windu cut his head off. Boba now wears flannel boxers for good luck.

-Obi-Wan Kenobi gets more and more Scottish the more emotional he gets. Sometimes in council meetings they legitimately cannot understand him so they just smile and nod. It did however lead to a 13 year old Anakin learning some creative insults over the years. Everyone remembers the time Yoda caught the kids arm with a practice saber and the teen yelled “yer da sells Avon ya wrinkly green bawbag”.

-The clones drink an insane amount of caf. The problem is they all have very specific orders. The space starbucks employees hate them. One will come in and suddenly they have to make like 50 drinks. Some are fine - like Wolffe and Cody just take it black, and Echo will just get a tea. Tup just gets a hot chocolate. But then someone (looking at Fives because mans is DRaMATIC) will turn up in sunglasses and order a Venti Iced Skinny Hazlenut Macchiato, Sugar-Free syrup, extra shot, lite ice, no whip or some shit and hold everything up. That’s not even getting into Kix and the other medics (and probably Rex too tbf, my guy is tired) who order drinks with more espresso shots than should be legally allowed. Fox is banned for life or has a lifelong loyalty card and there’s no in between.

-Clones like camping. Just vibing under the stars together with crappy food and cheap tents. It’s good for team building, but also counts as training so they don’t feel guilty for it.

-After leaving the empire, Kallus really doesn’t like wearing a helmet because it reminds him of who he used to be, and he’s trying very hard to move past that point of his life. The ghost crew are super reluctant to let him on the frontline in case he gets hurt. Eventually Rex just makes him wear Gregor’s old chest plate and vambraces because his brother didn’t wear them and died, and he wouldn’t let that happen to another member of his family, regardless of who they used to be.

-Thrawn does yoga in the mornings and evenings so he can maintain his fight training schedule without pulling a muscle. He’s mad flexible. It’s very stressful on the ship cos officers will go to deliver messages and just find him in weird positions thinking. One new transfer once had to tell him about a rebel insurrection whilst the grand admiral was in the crab position. It was awkward.

-On a definitely unrelated note, Eli Vanto sucks at yoga and finds Thrawn being good at it infuriating.

-Dooku does all of his own gardening because a droid stepped on his carnations and he was not having that. (He also did not approve of Ventress’s snide “what in carnation?!” Comment when he informed her). Dooku is actually where Qui-Gon got his love for plants. He likes the way they feel in the force.

-Fenn Rau and Bo-Katan were actually pretty good friends. They’d fly around and chat shit about once a week just to relax when they were younger.

-Pre-Grogu Din Djarin always wanted a pet, but never had a way to look after them properly. So every time he was on a planet he’d go to shelters and play with the animals there to make sure they had fun at least once in their lives.

-At any given moment at least one room on a 501st ship is blasting cheese room music so that the troopers can unwind together for a bit before their next mission. It’s surprisingly effective given that they’re just dancing together.

-As a way to understand other cultures and find harmony with the force all of the Jedi learn an instrument. Yoda played the piccolo, Dooku played the flute. Qui-Gon played the bongos, Obi-Wan plays the violin. Anakin learnt the guitar, and one of the reasons he wears the glove over his prosthetic is so he can still play. But little Ahsoka? She got a wholeass drumset. She’s pretty good too, but she likes 3am to be her practice time. Quinlan is super proud that she took his advice. Anakin and Obi want to kill the kiffar on principle.

As usual, hope you enjoy my shitpost. Any thought, criticism or idea is welcome. Have a goodun lads!

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evabellasworld · 3 years

Text

Storm of the Republic

Chapter 23

AO3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23

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Summary: When Tup murdered General Tiplar during a battle, Anakin Skywalker and Captain Rex dispatched Ahsoka, Fives, and Yara to solve the mystery that was plaguing the Clone Army. Meanwhile, Senator Padme Amidala contacted Commander Fox, Commander Tori, Riyo Chuchi, and Dipper to help her continue investigating the death of Palpatine, suspecting that Dooku was behind the evil plot. But when Dooku send an ISB agent to stop them, the team had to race against time to search for the truth, which could alter the course of the galaxy.

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Stopping in front of a medical clinic, Fives took a deep breath as he knocked on the door. Yara still clung to his back as Tup was thankfully breathing through his ventilators, though time was not on their side. A tall man in a lab coat and glasses answered the door, glancing at the three of them. “Do you need anything, clone?”

“I need your help,” pleased Fives. “My brother is dying and my sister had a head concussion. Could you do anything to save both of them?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t serve your kind here,” the male doctor said, as he shut the door in front of their face.

He let out a sigh and continued down the streets, searching for another clinic that would help them. With no credits or chain codes with them, Fives would have no other choice but to ask every health facility he could find to help Tup and Yara.

Yara held her head as she glanced at the street vendors from both corners, who were known for their simple yet scrumptious meal. A Zygerrian woman with sunhat was brewing ice-cold bubble tea for her younger customer, adding a big spoonful of brown sugar syrup for him.

She licked her lips as she turned to the Devaronian man in an apron, who was deep-frying nunas in oil and while sprinkling some hot sauce on fried rice rolls. Her stomach grumbled as she stared at the freshly cooked meal. It’s been hours since she had her last ration stick at base.

Fives noticed Yara looking at the street vendors and gave a pat on her hand. “It’s gonna be alright, vod. I will find someone to treat you and Tup and it will all be over soon, I promise.”

“I don’t think they like clones,” she whined, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I think Tup is going to die, Fives. It would be too late by the time we got help.”

“Don’t say that, Yara, please. Tup will be okay. I promise, we’re going to get help for you and Tup.”

She could only nod as Fives found another clinic by the traditional drugstore, prompting him to have a knock. “Is anyone in there?”

There was no answer. The ARC Trooper gave another knock, only this time, the tenant inside responded by yelling at them. “Fuck off! You’re not welcomed here!”

“Please, Dr. My brother is dying and my sister is having concussions. They will die if they don’t get treated.”

“Don’t you understand Basic? I said, fuck off!”

“What an asshat,” Yara cursed underneath, making her brother snicker. “For someone who went to medical school, he sure needs a lot of work in his down under.”

“Oh, so it’s okay if you make a dick joke?” Fives rolled his eyes. “But somehow, when I make a dick joke, you complain about it? Make it make sense, goddamit!”

“You make a dick joke when we’re in the middle of the mission, plus, your dick joke sucks.”

“Well, you don’t have a penis, so what makes you think your dick jokes are better than mine?”

“Fuck you,” she slapped his cheeks. “I’m ten times smarter than you.”

“Just be grateful that I’m carrying you right now. You could have been walking on your two feet but no, you broke your left arm and you hit your head, and I don’t want you to break any more bones in your body.”

Before Yara could respond, an elderly Togruta woman stepped out of the drugstore, eyeing both of them bickering with each other. She noticed an unconscious Tup strapped on his gurney and clicked her tongue in pity for the clones.

“Um...excuse me,” she called them, waving her hand. “But is he okay?”

Fives turned to Tup, before making eye contact with the purple Togruta and bobbed his head. “My brother’s dying, and my sister’s injured. Could you please help us? They might die if I do nothing.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot help you with your problems,” the old lady shook her head. “But I know someone who will. Her name is Dr. Tiana Urakchaevy. She’s one of the best doctors in town and she will help you and your siblings.”

“Does she accept clone troopers?”

“Dr. Urakchaevy’s clinic is right at the corner, and she will treat anybody, regardless of your species and background.”

“Where’s her clinic?”

“Dr. Urakchaevy’s clinic is right at the corner,” she pointed with her thumbs. “It’s the ones with flowers.”

“Thank you so much, ma’am,” Fives smiled, shaking her hands. “You are a lifesaver.”

“You’re welcome, dear,” the old lady replied as she placed a bottle of ointment on his palm. “Here, take this. This will be useful for your sister.”

He gave her a respectful salute as he journeyed through town, passing by every shop lot along the way. Unlike Kamino, the buildings were painted with myriads of colours, from red to orange, and even mint green. Fives watched the shop owners having an animated conversation with each other, making him think of his brothers and sisters back home.

“You know, Yara, when you and Tup are feeling better, we’ll be drinking together in no time,” he promised, sticking out his pinky. “I know you love cognac, and Tup loves a glass of Shirley Temple, so I’ll pay the tab for the both of you, alright?”

“And then what?” Yara grumbled.

“And then you both can do whatever you want. I’ll let you and Tup choose this time. We can do anything you both wanted to do, like watching that rom-com movie or have a bingo night. I know how much you blush at the male lead in a rom-com.”

“It’s not my fault they’re handsome as hell,” she poked his face. “If they were real, I wouldn’t hesitate to climb them like a tree.”

Fives snorted before clearing his throat. “Well, good luck with that. I bet they would cringe at your dick jokes.”

“Fuck you!”

Rolling his eyes, he held onto Yara and Tup as he arrived at the corner of the town and found a small, humble clinic in front of him. It was a double-storey shop, with magenta bougainvilleas grown in pots, and several pairs of shoes arranged neatly on a shoe rack.

I hope this one is friendly, Fives prayed, as he rang the doorbell. As he looked at his surroundings, the front door opened, revealing a dark-haired woman with dark skin and a yellow sundress, and was holding a bowl of cookie dough and a wooden spoon.

“Good afternoon,” she chirped. “You must be one of Tiana’s patients.”

“Yeah, the old lady by the drugstore sent us here. She told me that Dr. Urakchaevy could help my brother and sister.”

“Well, you can come in and have tea with us,” she invited them inside. “My wife will be with you in a short while.”

“Thank you so much. You’re too kind.”

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spacehologramcollection · 6 years

Text

Request; Clones and cooking.

· Fives; He’s actually really good at cooking. Nobody knows how it’s possible but he can cook. Everyone is thankful when they see he’s on a mission with them, because they’ll actually be able to eat proper food. He can multitask pretty well so nothing actually well burns. It surprises everyone how graceful he is in the kitchen. He can cook pretty much anything he wants but loves making sliders and burgers. Anything greasy and unhealthy.

· Kix; He cooks. A lot. He makes really healthy food and makes it in bulk. He hates eating rations and much prefers to make his own stuff. No one else really asks him to cook for them. Mainly because it’s far too healthy and often doesn’t taste or look to appetising. He mainly makes salads or pasta dishes. Quick, easy and healthy. He doesn’t like to be in the kitchen a lot.

· Rex; This is a disaster before it even starts. Hope the fire brigade is on standby. He cannot and will not cook. He’s burnt pans, dishes and basically everything. He once took some pasta off the hob and the bottom of the pan stuck to the hob… causing water and pasta to go everywhere. He’s pretty sure he’s burnt water before. He says he’s too busy to cook, but that’s him trying to cover up that he cannot cook.

· Echo; He isn’t keen on cooking but he loves to bake. Why? Because it’s following instructions and being precise. Makes a mean cake and amazing buns. He is so accurate with his measurements and adores decorating said cakes. He also makes the “pity party toasty.” This monstrosity came to be one night when he couldn’t sleep. It consists of, chocolate spread, golden syrup, pecans and marshmallows. It is so sickly and if it gets on your skin it will burn. But by universe are they nice. He makes them a lot for people who need cheering up.

· Cody; He doesn’t have time to cook but he can if the need arises. Even though he likes order and to follow instructions, he finds cooking messy and time consuming. It’s not something he enjoys, he does however like to eat and encourage any of his trooper that like cooking… not because it means there’ll always be a designated cook. He’s not as bad as Rex but he sure isn’t a gourmet chef. Can make mean supernoodles and instant ramen, like to the point it tastes like perfection? He loves quick and easy instant type food. So, instant ramen is right up his street. He once ate like 6 packets pulling an all nighter with Kenobi.

#clone trooper #clone trooper headcanon #clone wars #tcw #the clone wars #sw tcw #cody #commander cody #captain rex #rex #fives #echo #clone trooper fives #clone trooper echo #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo

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mwolf0epsilon · 1 year

Text

A Bunch of Clone Troopers

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kingdomheartsloversstuff · 7 years

Text

Light Of Lothal Chapter 6- Sleepless Nights, Early Mornings

Kallus and Dev struggle with Kallus's upcoming mission and bond over a home cooked meal.

Read it on A03

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He needed to sleep, it was crucial that he be at his best for his upcoming mission. He knew this, yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t fall asleep. He tossed and turned, willing his mind to simply shut off so he could get some much needed rest, but sleep evaded him. A thousand thoughts swirled through his mind, each demanding his full and complete attention, his mind unable to focus on a single thought for long before another demanded attention.

His life had once made sense, he knew who he was, what he was meant to do, who the bad guys where who the good guys where, it all made sense. Now though his perfect black and white world was being torn apart, leaving him in a terrifyingly gray world. The Empire the slaughterer of children and the Rebellion, the butcherer of the helpless. He once would have blindly followed the Empire, how could he follow them now after all he’d seen them do? Was there even another option? You were either with the Empire or against the Empire, there was no neutral. The Rebels where hardly any better than the Empire…or was it all more lies spewed by the Empire to keep people loyal? No, there was at least some truth about the atrocities the Rebellion committed, he’d seen them, lived through them.

With a heavy sigh Kallus sat up in bed and grabbed his datapad when he finally gave up on sleep, groaning when he saw he still had another hour before he needed to be awake. He could only hope he could stay awake today. Maybe he could make himself and Dev a nice breakfast. He enjoyed cooking, but rarely had time, or anywhere he could go to cook. This early in the morning though the kitchens would be deserted so he knew the kitchen staff wouldn’t mind him cooking in their as long as everything was cleaned and put back when he was done. Besides, Dev might have an easier time eating a real meal then the gruel they’re usually forced to choke down.

If he hurried, he could have a nice breakfast ready before Dev woke up and they wouldn’t have to eat in the galley. With a small smile Kallus stood and quickly got ready, hoping Dev would like the surprise. The door to his room hissed open, Kallus silently slipping out to avoid accidentally waking Dev, a small whimper giving him pause, his eyes glancing to where to sound came from to find Dev curled up against the wall beside the door to Kallus’s room.

“Dev?” Kallus asked kneeling down next to him. Dev glanced up at him through half lidded eyes mumbling,

“Morning.” Yawning and tiredly rubbing his eyes before stretching and slumping back against the wall.

“What are you doing out here?” Kallus gently asked. “You have your own bed now.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Dev mumbled, curling in on himself, ashamed.

“Why not?”

“I had a nightmare…” Dev whispered so softly Kallus had to strain to hear what he said.

“Why didn’t you come and get me?” Kallus asked, frowning. He’d never turned Dev away before, why would he think he’d turn Dev away now?

“I didn’t want to wake you up….you have an important mission today.” Dev guiltily mumbled.

“You’re health is far more important to me,” Kallus firmly said, adding as an afterthought. “Besides, I didn’t sleep very well either.”

“You didn’t?” Dev worriedly asked, Kallus mentally cursing himself for making Dev blame himself for that.

“No, that’s why I was thinking of making a nice breakfast for us, how does that sound?”

“There’s no kitchen in here though.” Dev said, looking around the room.

“I have friends in the kitchens who let me borrow them when they’re not being used,” Kallus assured. “So what do you say?”

“Okay!” Dev said, eyes lighting up. Kallus chuckled, ruffling Dev’s hair and said,

“Come on then.” The pair made their way through the quiet halls, only occasionally passing a patrol of troopers. They both fell silent as they walked, both unsure of what to say. Kallus had never been much of a talker, and though Dev seemed to be a chatterbox, he could tell Dev was still a little uncertain in this new environment, not that he was entirely surprised given the situation. It seemed to help when they were alone and in the safety of their room, Dev seemingly thinking it was safe to let his guard down somewhere where no one else could see them.

“When do you leave for your mission?” Dev asked.

“In about two hours,” Kallus informed him.

“Oh,” Dev mumbled, shoulders sinking.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it,” Kallus assured. “And if you need to talk to me, tell Lyste and he’ll get a message to me.”

“He can do that?” Dev asked.

“We do it all the time,” Kallus dismissively said. “Lyste likes to keep in contact with me while on missions.”

“How come?”

“We’re friends and it’s what friends do,” Kallus said, shrugging. He wasn’t entirely sure why Lyste worked so hard to talk for so little, but it warmed Kallus’s heart knowing someone cared enough to do that for him.

“None of my friends did that….” Dev dejectedly mumbled. He couldn’t imagine why for the life of him, how could anyone not love Dev the moment they met him?

“They weren’t very good friends then,” Kallus firmly said. “And they certainly didn’t deserve to have someone as kind as you care about them.” Dev flashed Kallus a small smile that Kallus returned before opening the door to the kitchen.

“Wow!” Dev gasped, eyes wide as he looked around the massive kitchen. “I’ve never seen so much food!”

“Anything in particular you’re hungry for?” Kallus asked, chuckling as he watched Dev looked around the kitchen, eyes filled with awe and wonder.

“I don’t know what most of this stuff is….” Dev breathed.

“Well we’ll just have to work on that,” Kallus gently said, starting to gather ingredients. “For now….how about some waffles?”

“Mama used to make them on special occasions!” Dev exclaimed.

“What kind of occasions?” Kallus asked as he started grabbing the necessary ingredients, setting what he needed on the countertop by the store.

“Birthdays mostly,” Dev said. “Or when mama could get the ingredients. But she couldn’t get them often.”

“Well that won’t be a problem here,” Kallus assured, reaching for the waffle iron, cringing when he realized the waffles it made where shaped like the Imperial Insignia. He cooked here often, but he’d never before noticed how every single utensil had the Imperial Insignia on it. Or maybe he just hadn’t bothered to notice before. “We can easily get what we need for them.”

Dev beamed at him for a moment, his face slowly falling. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

“What do you mean?” Kallus asked, starting to heat the waffle iron.

“People are starving but the Empire has so much food…”

“Your right, it’s not very fair,” Kallus agreed with a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately….there isn’t much we can do about it right now.”

“Why not?” Dev asked.

“There are very greedy and selfish people in power, until that changes the Empire will never return to what it used to be.”

“What it used to be?”

“The Empire once stood for peace and justice. We fought to ensure that a war like the Clone Wars never happened again,” Kallus explained as he carefully measured out ingredients. “We brought justice back to a war torn Galaxy and helped those the Republic failed to.”

“So what happened?”

“Greed and selfishness,” Kallus sighed. “There are dangerous people in power, people who need to be removed if change is to happen.”

“Do you think it can happen?”

“I want it to,” Kallus admitted. “But….sometimes I wonder if it can.”

“I bet you could do it!”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence but I doubt I could do it alone,” Kallus admitted as he stirred the ingredients in the bowl.

“Lyste could help!”

“Even with his help two of us can’t make change,” Kallus informed him, setting the bowl down beside the waffle iron.

“Change has to start somewhere, that’s what mama and papa say!” Dev declared.

“I suppose….”

“And if no one ever starts because they’re too afraid then change will never happen!” Kallus paused, glancing at Dev with wide eyes.

“I….yes that’s true….how did you get so wise?”

“Mama and papa!”

“Well I hope I have the pleasure to meet them someday,” Kallus declared.

“Do you think you will be able to?”

“I swear I will do everything I can to bring them back to you,” Kallus firmly said.

“I know you will!” Dev said. Kallus merely hummed in response as he poured the batter into the waffle iron, silently praying he didn’t let Dev down.

“Why does the food here usually taste so bad when there is so much food to use?” Dev asked.

“Owning ingredients doesn’t make you a good cook,” Kallus explained as he waited for the machine to beep. “Most of the cooks here don’t care all that much about preparing good food.”

“But why? They then have to eat the gross stuff!”

“True but making a good meal takes effort, something that is in very short supply around here.” Kallus explained. “Also, the gruel we have to eat supposedly has more nutritional value.”

“They should make you the cook!” Dev declared.

“As nice as that sounds, most people don’t appreciate the cuisines I choose to prepare.”

“Why not?” Dev asked.

“They tend to be foods from….other species.” Kallus admitted.

“Why does that bother them?”

“I’m not entire sure,” Kallus admitted as he pulled the waffles out of the pan. “There’s a stigma against anything that isn’t entirely human with the Empire.”

“Why? There are lots and lots of species that aren’t human.”

“I’m not sure how or why it started, but it’s an issue that needs to be dealt with.” Kallus sighed as he set a plate down in front of Dev along with some syrup. “For now though let’s simply enjoy a nice meal.”

“Okay!” Dev exclaimed, eagerly pouring a generous amount of syrup on his waffles before hungrily digging in.

“Slow down or you’ll make yourself sick,” Kallus said with a chuckle.

“But it’s so good,” Dev said through a mouthful off food.

“Yes but you’ll choke on it if you don’t slow down and chew,” Kallus chided.

“Sorry sir,” Dev sighed, reluctantly slowing down to properly chew his food before swallowing.

“Thank you,” Kallus sighed, smiling at Dev. “I would hate to have to deal with all the paperwork if you choked.” He added winking at Dev.

“Hey!” Dev cried, giggling. “I was going to say you should be the cook cuz these are the best waffles ever but now I won’t!”

Kallus chuckled, choosing to ignore that and tell him, “If you had told me that, I would tell you that the Empire would never let me become a cook because I am an ISB agent who was top of his class and that the Empire values that far more than good food.”

“I thought people were allowed to leave jobs and get new one’s?”

“Technically yes-“

“So become a cook!”

“It’s not that simple Dev-”

“Why not?”

“Well….” Kallus slowly began, trying to figure out how to best explain this to Dev, “You know how I said before there are very bad people in positions of power?”

“Yea.”

“Well those people would find ways to ‘help’ me decide I should stay.”

“That’s not nice.”

“No, it’s not,” Kallus agreed. “But it’s the world we live in.”

“Well I don’t like it,” Dev grumbled, angrily poking at his food with his fork.

“If I was a cook though, you’d have to share my food with everyone at this base,” Kallus informed him, hoping to cheer him up. “With me not being a cook, you get it all to yourself.”

“You’ll cook for me all the time then?” Dev hopefully asked.

“As much as I can,” Kallus corrected, but that didn’t seem to matter all that much to Dev, whose eyes lit up at Kallus’s words.

“Thank you!” Dev cried as he eagerly went back to inhaling his food, albeit chewing it better than before, making Kallus chuckle warmly at him. He had to admit this was nice. Before he met Dev, he would spend his meals alone in the dark with only his thoughts to accompany him. Slowly, Dev’s excitable self was returning, filling the silence with endless chatter about everything and nothing. Even as a child, he hadn’t had anything like this but he liked it.

Kallus had once thought a domestic life was not for him, but with Dev, Kallus found he might actually like it. Being able to spend the whole day with Dev, listening to him chatter and be a <em> child, </em> carefree and happy and free, something painfully unfamiliar, but so wonderful to see. With Dev he could forget about all the troubles of the Galaxy and for a moment, pretend he was just a regular citizen spending time with his son- <em> son. </em> Was it wrong to see Dev as his son? It was the very Empire he worked for that was the reason he was an orphan.

Kallus sighed heavily, uncertainty filling him. Was taking Dev in the right thing? Dev seemed happy about it, but their where so many unknowns, how would Dev feel about living with an ISB agent? Was there a chance someone would figure out what he’d done? Kallus glanced over at Dev who had finished his food and was looking at Kallus with concern causing a weak smile to form on his face. He was stumbling blind into all of this, but Dev was worth it.

“Alright time to clean up,” Kallus declared to keep Dev from worrying, picking up both his and Dev’s plates, carrying them over to the sinks.

“Can I do anything to help?” Dev asked, following behind him.

“If you’d like to help me wash you can,” Kallus said, dumping their plates in the soapy water before going to grab everything he’d used to prepare the meal.

“I always helped mama and papa clean up!” Dev assured, grabbing his chair and slowly dragging it over to the sink.

“Need some help with that?” Kallus asked with a small smirk as Dev struggled to push the chair.

“I can do it!” Dev declared.

“Alright then,” Kallus said, shaking his head and he finished gathering the dishes. As he threw the last few dishes into the sink, Dev finally managed to shove the chair over to the sink and clamor on top of it.

“Nice of you to finally join me,” Kallus teasingly said, ruffling Dev’s hair playfully before getting to work cleaning with Dev ‘helping’ him. Though Kallus had to redo most of the dishes Dev washed, it was nice that he was so willing and eager to help him. While drying one of the plates, Dev fumbled the dish causing it to fall back into the dirty water, splashing Kallus in the process.

“Sorry sir!” Dev cried, eyes wide in terror.

“Oh you should be,” Kallus playfully said before sticking his hand in the water, flicking it at Dev, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Hey!” Dev cried, shaking his head.

“You started it!” Kallus said.

“It was an accident!” Dev cried, flinging soap at Kallus.

“Just like that was?” Kallus asked, laughing as he blew bubbled at Dev who started giggling as he swatted at them. “Now quit splashing I don’t want to change.” He added, ruffling Dev’s hair affectionately.

“But splashing is fun!” Dev cried, scooping up more bubbled and blowing on them, blowing a little too hard causing most of them to pop.

“Yes it is, but I don’t want to take the time to change if what I’m wearing gets soaked.”

“….would you miss your transport?” Dev asked.

“Nice try, but no,” Kallus informed him.

“Fine,” Dev mumbled, reaching into the water to grab the plate he’d dropped, having to completely bend over to reach deep enough to grab it.

“Hey, I promise you, you won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“You keep saying that…” Dev mumbled.

“I understand this is scary for you after what happened to your parents, but I swear Dev I will come back.”

“Something could happen though….”

“Something could,” Kallus agreed. “But I can’t just not go because of the danger, innocent people could get hurt.”

“I don’t want to lose my dad again-“ Dev stammered, eyes wide as he processed what he’d just called Kallus who was momentarily stunned by Dev’s declaration. It didn’t make any sense to Kallus, he didn’t know a thing about parenting or even really how to show emotional support and yet, Dev looked at him, and saw a father despite how terrible a job he’d done as a parental figure. It was both shocking, and touching all at once. “I’m sorry don’t be mad at me-“

“Hey, hey I’m not mad,” Kallus quickly assured, realizing his silence had probably been mistaken for anger. “I’m…new with being a parent, my own parents weren’t around all that much and I’ve never really been very good at expressing myself and I’m sorry that’s made you think I don’t care about you because I do, I care so much. I just need a little time to learn how to better show that. There’s not really anyone here who knows that much about any of this either so I’m kind of going into this blind so it will take a little time to figure all of this out. I just want you to know you are my son and I will do everything I can to-” Without warning, Dev threw his arms around Kallus, tightly hugging him. After a split seconds hesitation, Kallus tightly hugged him back.

It must have been quiet the sight, seeing an ISB agent tightly hugging a child, standing by a sink filled with dirty dishes, but Kallus could care less. Dev was his child, not by birth, but still his, and he needed Kallus, so Kallus would be there for him. He might not know everything about raising a child, and he knew he would probably mess up, but he would do anything for Dev.

“Can I call you dad?” Dev mumbled after a moment, looking up at Kallus hopefully.

“Of course you can,” Kallus assured, smiling down at him. Dev beamed at him and nuzzled into the hug. “Come on, we should finish cleaning.”

“Alright,” Dev sighed, reluctantly letting go. Though both hated the fact that Kallus had to go, Kallus knew he would do everything in his power to get home, for once someone needed him to come back and he refused to let him down.

#Kallus #Agent Kallus #Ezra Bridger #Star Wars Rebels #Light of Lothal #SWR #Papa Kallus #Baby Ezra

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mwolf0epsilon · 2 months

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I AM TWO

Summary: The man who had made it said it was loved. He lied, but that didn't mean it didn't want it to be true...

[Very quick drabble before bed, because today's OC lore infodump has cracked open the bottled on so many thoughts regarding Ni Cuy' T'ad's sense of identity, self-worth, grief at being forced into a wretched existence and yearning for affection]

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The first time it opens its eyes, it's told that it is something precious. A someone. A brother. Wanted and cherished. So very loved that it was brought back from the very brink of oblivion.

The man who tells it this wears a pale gray coverall suit that is saturated in blood. His eyes full of a desperate kind of madness that causes him to grin from ear to ear, while exhaustion and giddiness partly cause his incessant quaking. There is love in those dark eyes of his, but no true direction. He is lost.

It doesn't think him a liar, but it doesn't entirely believe his words. They're far too kind, too personal, to be for it. Bare too much familial significance to be aimed at a wretched creature that only just came into being. But it doesn't deny him the solace his own lies brings him.

It feels like if it does, he might collapse in on himself. And it doesn't want to be alone. Choses to be kind, even if ultimately it is for partially selfish reasons.

It doesn't keep track of time. Has no innate sense to do so, because the days on Tantiss are all the same. As are the people and sights, to the point where it all blurs together into one giant smear of mind-numbing monotony. Trying to make sense of anything just made its head hurt, so it prefers it that way anyway.

It's easier to just stagnate and hide in the comfort of the known, rather than dwell on the unknown.

But one day someone new comes along and suddenly it and the man who'd made it are free. And oh how the man cries and cries. Won't stop crying. Screams and thrashed and practically howls in anguish as he's dragged kicking and screaming into freedom.

It doesn't understand why he is so upset, but it hugs him until its made to let go. Relegated over to others who cry just as hard when they see it for the first time. It wants to cry too, and maybe throw up, although it is not sure why seeing them makes it feel so sick.

It understands later, after two of them call it Conch, and the other calls it Syrup. Those are not its names. They never were. But alas, it came to understand very early on that it was made of spare parts.

Machinery and flesh. Brother and not.

It thinks the one who took the man who made it didn't mean to be so cruel as to leave it with the people that loved the original owners of its components. Maybe he thought he was being kind. It still hates him for it. Hates Fox for his misguided attempt at finding it a home, and its caretakes some kind of closure.

Because Tongue Twister had been wrong.

It was not precious. It was not a someone. It was not a brother. It wasn't even wanted or cherished or even loved. It was just a product of madness and exploitation. A terrible reminder of something it would never be.

And it wished Geoduck, Crayfish and Pox could see far enough past their grief to see how much they were hurting it. Because even tough it was not loved the way they clearly loved Conch or Syrup, it wanted to be.

It wanted to be their vod just as much as they had been. Was that too much to ask?

#Eps Writes #star wars #the clone wars #clone ocs #Clone Amalgam Ni Cuy' T'ad #scuba trooper conch #clone trooper syrup

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mwolf0epsilon · 1 year

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Syrup's mind is broken by the stress of a decaying chip.

His sense of self (once proud of being kind to all creatures big and small no matter their origin or other's misconceptions of them), erased. Fractured between the idea of being a product but not quite droid. An "It" instead of a "He".

His interest in entomology (the love and care with which he used to raise caterpillars until they became their most beautiful selves, the fascination and admiration he had of moths, the way he'd stop in his tracks to release a bug caught in a spider's web), forgotten. Irrelevant in the face of serving the Empire as all good soldiers do.

The kinship he'd once had with his batchmates (the ones taken from him because he just wasn't good enough to die with them it seems, and the guilt he felt being the very last one, never knowing one of his brothers actually made it out alive), dead. Cold, icy and stiff in the same manner as his heart feels. Emotions are for people. This unit is not a person. It is a cog in the machine. A soldier of the Empire.

There's nothing more for it to be, so Syrup gets buried by the chip's influence deeper and deeper as days and nights pass.

The only thing left is a moth tattoo.

#star wars #the clone wars #clone ocs #clone trooper syrup

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mwolf0epsilon · 2 years

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Clone OC fact of the day: Pox has a surviving batchmate.

#star wars #the clone wars #clone ocs #clone medic pox #clone trooper syrup

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mwolf0epsilon · 1 year

Note

I saw your original clones post and I was curious to know more about each of them if that's ok? I really like the one with purple hair

You're the first Anon of 2023. You're also lovely for asking me about my blorbos, thank you :')

This is gonna be a little long so I'll keep it under a readmore, but like, I'm keeping batchmates together because it's easier to explain who's who if I do it like that. I'll also be addressing them each through order of appearance so it's less confusing.

Anyway, lets do some clone talk!

---

First lets start with my 104th ARCs, Bully and Jawbreaker. They were former members of Krell's Battalion and two of his favourite punching bags, which is where they got their scarring from.

They were pulled into the 104th by Maeleen Eppa, a natborn engineer that noticed their fearful and distrustful nature when Plo Koon's battalion ended up working with Krell's on the same mission.

They're the hard-ass older brothers because, back on Kamino, they lost two batchmates during training exercises, and then had two much younger cadets (Tup and Dogma) introduced into their squad to even out the numbers. It's become second nature to be protective of Shinies, and even if they don't trust very easily they are loyal to a fault (unless they feel like they've been personally betrayed).

They sadly don't make it post Order 66.

Next up we have the tragedy that are Pox and Syrup.

Pox was a clone medic trainee on Kamino that got along brilliantly with his batchmates. Despite the hardships of training, he was always kind, reliable and willing to drop everything to help someone else along the way. Syrup was no different from his batchmate, and while he was training to be a simple foot-soldier, he was going to be acting as a reserve medic as well for whatever battalion he ended up in.

They were finishing training during the last leg of the Clone Wars, when suddenly Sulu Ra called for Pox's squad to partake in some kind of a training exercise. Syrup was, at the time, in medbay for an injury he'd sustained during training, so he wasn't brought along for whatever mystery exercise they were being tasked with.

Long story short... It was a bioweapon test... One that killed several clone troopers that hadn't even graduated yet; left Pox as a carrier of a highly infectious disease that continuously mutated within him, while he went on the run; and which left Syrup essentially without his closest brothers to rely on...

While Pox eventually finds a group of vode to connect with post Order 66, Syrup isn't as lucky. His inhibitor chip was faulty and began to rot inside of him, much like Tup's had, and it obliterates his sense of self to the point where he doesn't consider himself a person. Just a tool to be used by the Empire.

Next up Hyena, a medic of the 104th.

Like with Bully and Jawbreaker, he wasn't originally with the 104th. He was assigned to the 501st with his squad from Kamino, which he never got along with because they were a bunch of unrelenting bullies that thought they were better than everyone else. The disagreements got so bad that eventually he grew fed up enough to request a transfer, and managed to get into the 104th where he felt much more at home.

There's not much to say about Hyena other than, he has quite the sense of humor and love for terrible jokes/puns.

Still unsure what happens to him post Order 66.

We're missing one of them (Goch) due to his face being a little harder to draw than your average clone due to several facial deformities, but next up comes the Long Name Squad.

Lichtenberg, Pretty Boy and Olly are in the 501st, 212th and Coruscant Guard respectively, while Hippo and Cala were never in battalions due to the two of them (and Goch) being confined in Sulu Ra's private lab.

Lich is the accident prone but often optimistic and carefree older brother of the batch, PB is the token pretty boy with a bit of a sassy mean streak, Olly is the responsible but heavily traumatized one, and Hippo and Cala are still getting used to being free at all.

Side-notes: Hippo's goggles are technically a visual aid because her cyclopsia has left her vision severely impaired. Cala needs a cane to walk due to her polymelia making her a little top heavy (she has four arms). Both used to be conjoined twins before being surgically separated.

They have a relatively happy ending post Order 66, even if getting to it is an absolute hardship that tests their bonds repeatedly.

Next up, Seafood Squad! And boy howdy these ones are such a burning trash-fire of a mess...

In order we have Geoduck, Conch, Crayfish, Jelly and Sponge. All of them were in the scuba trooper program before Sponge (who had always been a target of Kaminoan scrutiny, due to a set of circumstances that still make them very uncomfortable) was ultimately pulled from it and forced into the medical training program.

This seemed to cause a sizeable rift between Sponge and the three eldest members of their batch (one that grew overtime due to Conch's pettiness and Crayfish's indifference). Jelly, the most amicable and compassionate of the batch, stuck with them for the long run and refused to grow distant. The two of them were so inseparable to the point where Sponge begged Jelly to come with them into whatever battalion they got assigned, rather than go with the others. Jelly accepted, pulling out of the scuba trooper program and worsening the growing contempt a certain member of the batch felt towards Sponge.

Ultimately, Geoduck, Conch and Crayfish were assigned to Kit Fisto's battalion, while Jelly and Sponge were assigned to the 501st. Jelly then died in an incident that heavily traumatized Sponge, and from there on out the rest of the batch (mostly Conch) blamed them for the death of their favourite vod'ika, and stopped contacting them at all. This left Sponge alone to deal with their trauma, which they didn't do very well...

A lot happens to them throughout the war itself and, at some point (likely driven by guilt and shame of being such a poor excuse for an older brother), Geoduck decides to try to mend the relationship between the batch and Sponge. But, due to his rather unique issue (face blindness so severe that he honestly has trouble recognizing anyone), he never managed to do so during the war itself. Mostly due to Conch actively sabotaging his attempts, and Crayfish simply not caring enough to help because he'd rather not stick his nose into any drama.

Side-Notes: Geoduck, Conch and Jelly have sea creature themed names which they decided on when they first began their scuba training. Crayfish has a freshwater creature themed name instead, because he may or may have not eaten a live crayfish that he pilfered from the Kamino Kitchens during the night.

Meanwhile, Sponge is not named after sea sponges at all. They are instead named after surgical sponges due to a... Rather unfortunate incident during their training... In an ironic twist it just fits their batch's theme in a way.

What happens to the great majority of them post Order 66 is still a WIP, but I know how Sponge's story ends and I'm very pleased with it.

These three next ones are fun... Introducing Medic Canivete of the 212th, Officer Incognito of Krell's Battalion, and Ordnance Specialist 8-Ball. The one batch who can't decide which is the sane one of the group (none of them are).

Cani is essentially a Swiss army knife in terms of skills. She's officially a medic on record, but she also does a lot of flight crew tasks and a spot of engineering here and there. A girl has to keep herself busy after all! And she just likes to learn new things.

Incognito is an anxiety-riddled mess that wishes he wasn't often so unlucky with what life throws his way (he cannot get a break the poor sod), and has a lot of self-doubt that plagues him during his introspection sessions. He's living with a lot of survivor's guilt due to the situation he's stuck in (pretending to be a droid while trapped in a Venator he's trying to stir away from Republic space so the seppie droids that took over don't slaughter any more of his brothers), but overall seems to be in relatively safer hands with the droids than when he was under Krell's command.

8-Ball is a bit of an enigma to most. He's a happy go lucky sort, lover of anoobas of all shapes and sizes, and also a force sensitive clone with a predisposition for precognition that he doesn't recognize as anything else other than "gut feelings". He's a fun guy who doesn't have one mean bone in his body, and who's predictions have earned him both his name and a bit of infamy among other clones, since he mostly seems more attuned to "guessing" less than positive events to come...

I'm not entirely sure what happens to them post Order 66...

[REDACTED]

Before Fox became the Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard, the title belonged to Sturm... His predecessor who was met with a terrible fate for caring too much and trying to investigate things he should have averted his gaze away from...

Lets just say there's more than one reason why Fox keeps his mouth shut about what goes on on Coruscant, and Sturm's unfortunate fate is one of those reasons.

Order 66 doesn't much matter in this case. Sturm was already doomed from the start.

Finally we have Mythos Squad, a squad of clone commandos who deserted the GAR after their Jedi General (Vikerius Kwinde) was killed by Grievous.

In order we have Dragon (the defacto leader), Komainu (the designated medic), Basilisk (the sniper), Gremlin (the designated technician) and Kerberus (the demolitions expert).

There's not much to say about them because unfortunately Kerberus is the last one standing post Order 66. He was deafened during torture, so while listening to the GAR radio chatter the others heard the order being called out while he could not (thus they attempted to terminate him for disobeying the order, and he had to kill them in self-defense, something that will never stop haunting them).

#star wars #the clone wars #clone ocs #infodumping about the blorbos

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