The Bully of Kamino
Originally posted on Ao3.
Summary:
Cadet Force 99 must deal with an abusive bully, in the form of their instructor, Corporal Samson. Commander Cody puts a swift end to it, and in doing so, has a lasting effect on the squad, especially on Tech. This explains why Tech becomes a motor mouth, later, and why The Batch trusts and respects Cody so much.
Inspired by Shyranno's "Downtime" comics featuring the Cadet Bad Batch.
Very short, may be added to in the future.
Notes:
For @shyranno
The Cadets of Clone Force 99 were in class, and Corporal Samson’s lesson on Republic ships and their history went well, until….
“Excuse me, Sir,” said Tech, timidly, “but I believe you are incorrect. The Eta 2 predates the—”
“Don’t contradict your superior,” said the tall man sharply, cutting off the cadet in mid-sentence. “Have you no respect for me at all?”
The undersized, bespectacled clone fell silent, and quickly turned his eyes downward at the floor.
“Stand up,” Samson ordered, “and apologize to me.”
The clone rose and stood at attention beside his desk. The rest of his squad watched everything in shocked silence, wanting to jump to their brother’s defense, but hesitant to stand up to the angry instructor.
“S-sorry,” Tech stammered, his hands shaking as he continued to study the immaculate classroom floor.
“Sorry, WHAT?” Samson barked, stalking toward his student.
Tech jumped, startled, and began to tremble. “S-s-sorry Sir,” he corrected.
Hunter could hear the onset of tears in Tech’s voice, and despite his respect for Samson, he began to resent the abuse being inflicted upon his baby brother. But he was a good solider, and he held his tongue.
"Look at me when I am speaking to you, boy!" Samson snarled, violently grabbing Tech by the arm and giving him a rough shake, ignoring the cadet’s frightened yelp.
Hunter pressed his hands to his desktop in preparation of rising to his feet. He glared angrily as Samson continued to grip Tech's arm.
"I’ll not tolerate disrespect," the instructor spat, "you insubordinate little—"
"Take your hands off him."
The new voice surprised both Samson and the cadets, and they all looked up to find Marshal Commander Cody of the 212th standing there, with fire in his eyes. The commander had seemingly materialized out of nowhere.
"I said," he repeated slowly, moving threateningly close to Samson, "take... your hands... OFF him."
After a beat, the flustered instructor released Tech, and the diminutive cadet backed away, holding his arm. His squad mates promptly swarmed him, Hunter and Crosshair gently examining his arm, while Wrecker stood protectively between them and Samson, balling his fists on his hips and glowering up at the instructor.
Tech pushed his goggles up onto his forehead and screwed his fists into his leaking eyes, his breath hitching. Crosshair wrapped an arm around him, sneering venomously at Samson, while Hunter spoke quietly and comfortingly, brushing the tears from Tech’s face.
Cody’s voice was low and dangerous as he addressed Samson.
"Now listen very carefully,” he growled. “I don't care how many troopers you’ve successfully sent up the ranks. If I EVER hear of you putting your hands on a cadet, again…. I’ll have you demoted so far down the chain of command, that you’ll be taking orders from them.”
He pointed at the squad, all of them now wide-eyed and staring up at him.
“You don’t have the authority to—” Samson began, sputtering in indignation.
“I do, and I will see to it, personally." The commander’s tone left no room for debate. “Try me.” He folded his arms.
There was silence, aside from Tech’s sniffling, for a good solid minute.
Red in the face, Samson looked like he was about to say something, but when Cody glared at him, he wisely closed his mouth. With a huff, the instructor turned and stormed out of the classroom, and Tech peeked out from behind Wrecker to watch him go.
"What a hothead," Crosshair muttered, disdainfully. He looked up as Cody turned to them.
The anger in the commander’s eyes had been replaced by softness and brotherly concern. He gently nudged Wrecker aside before addressing Tech.
"You all right, vod’ika?" the tall man asked warmly. He dropped down on one knee so he could look the little cadet in the eye.
“Y-y-yes sir.”
The dark-haired man smiled, and reached for Tech’s arm. “May I?”
Tech nodded, trembling and silent as the commander took hold of his arm and carefully examined it.
“Any pain?” Cody asked, working Tech’s elbow, then rotating the limb at the shoulder.
Tech shook his head, and settled his goggles back in place over his eyes as the kindly commander released his arm.
“What’s your name, soldier?” Cody asked, smiling again.
“Uhh,” Tech stammered, “I-I-I am CT nine nine zero—”
“No, no,” Cody said, chuckling and shaking his head. “Your name. What do your brothers call you?”
Gaping like a landed burra fish, the bespectacled clone went wide-eyed and mute, and then promptly found his boots fascinating.
“We call him ‘Tech,’ sir,” Hunter supplied helpfully, once the silence had become awkward.
“Hello there, ’Tech,’” the commander said kindly, reaching out and tousling the clone’s sandy-brown hair. “Am I correct to guess you’re the quiet one of the squad?”
“Hardly,” Crosshair muttered with a snort and a lopsided smile as he produced a half-eaten red sucker from his shirt pocket. He jammed it between his lips, tucking the stick tightly into the corner of his small mouth.
“Tech just gets nervous talking to anyone, besides us,” Wrecker chimed in. “Sir!” he added quickly, when Hunter elbowed him in the ribs.
“I understand,” said Cody, with a wink. “I was the same, when I was your age.”
Tech hesitantly lifted his face to the commander.
“Sometimes it’s a bit scary to speak up, especially to someone bigger or older than you, isn’t it?” Cody smiled warmly.
The little clone’s eyes widened even further, and he nodded, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his damp, reddened cheeks. “Y-yes, Sir.”
“And not everyone will take it well, especially if it turns out that they are wrong, and you are right,” said Cody. “But I believe that one should never be afraid to share their knowledge.”
CC-2224, please report to the training facility at once. The emotionless voice droned from the overhead speaker system.
Cody gave a shrug and a sigh as he rose to his feet. “Duty calls, gentlemen.” As he was turning to leave, he paused, and reached down one more time to gently chuck Tech’s chin.
“Remember what I said, Little Tech,” he said softly, with a wink. “And if you have any more trouble with Samson—or anyone else for that matter—don’t hesitate to contact me.”
“Thank you, Commander,” Hunter said, with a crisp salute.
Giving a final wave, Cody strode briskly out the door and down the corridor, in the direction of the training facility.
“I like him,” Wrecker announced.
“He’s not so bad,” added Crosshair, “for a Reg.”
“I hope we’ll get to work with Commander Cody, one day, when we’re grown,” said Hunter, reaching to drape his arm around Tech’s bony shoulders.
“Me too,” agreed the smaller clone, straightening his goggles. “And for the record… Corporal Samson WAS wrong. The earliest design of the Eta 2 Jedi Starfighter was—”
Tech chattered on and on as Clone Force 99 headed back to their barracks. If he noticed the loving, knowing smiles his brothers exchanged during his flood of information, he did not acknowledge it.
Hunter knew that the next time Tech was required to speak up, he’d have the courage and confidence to do so, without fear. Commander Cody had indelibly changed their lives with that one, brief interaction.
Hunter didn’t know if his squad would ever cross paths with CC-2224 again, but if they did, he knew that his team would respect and trust the kindly Commander.
Even though he was a Reg….
THE END
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