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CT-6116 was six years old and starting his training to be a medic. To say he was excited to learn how to help his brothers was an understatement.
His entire life, the trainers on Kamino had lectured he and his brothers on the various roles within the GAR. The one that had caught his attention the most was the position of the medic.
“The medic is one of the most important roles within this military,” Their trainers had said, “They are the ones helping you and your fellow troopers when you are injured. They save lives— never take them for granted.”
‘16 wanted to be a medic ever since then. He wanted to help his brothers more than anything else in the galaxy. Sure, being a heavy gunner or a pilot sounded really cool, but ‘16 just knew that he would be the best as a medic; he could do the most to help that way.
He read as many holonovels on medicine as he could find after his first time learning about the role and absorbed as much of the information as he could. He’d prattle off medical facts to his two closest batchmates, Hardcase and Jesse, until they made him stop by throwing pillows at him.
It wasn’t his choice as to what role he ended up filling, but when he was told that he was going to be trained to be a medic, ‘16 was absolutely thrilled. His trainers had apparently noticed his desire to become one and thought it would be a fitting position for him.
He’d only been training for a few days, but they were already letting them help other cadets out with minor injuries received during training. ‘16 was assigned to shadow an older medic, CT-7423, who went by Breck. Why he’d decided on that name, ‘16 had no clue. He himself was still waiting to find a name that felt right, although his batchmates continually pestered him with ideas such as “Kitty” and “Fluffy.” ‘16 was not about to sound like some nat-born’s pet loth-cat, thank you very much.
One day, a blond cadet about a cycle or two older than ‘16 came in, stumbling slightly and pressing a hand on his right temple.
“Hey, ‘16, go ahead and see what’s wrong with him,” Breck said from another bed nearby as the blond cadet stood in the doorway looking somewhat unsure of his surroundings, “I’m busy with this kid.”
“Okay!” ‘16 said, grinning widely. A chance to help someone on his own! He couldn’t wait to prove himself.
He bounded over excitedly to the blond cadet, who noticed his approach and dazedly blinked down at him as he came to a stop at his feet. The blond was a full head or two taller than him, but ‘16 looked up at him scrutinizingly.
“What’s wrong?” He asked bluntly. He thought he heard Breck chuckle in the background, but he ignored it.
“Oh, uh,” the blond said, removing his hand from his forehead to reveal a bleeding cut, “Cut my head. I think I might have a concussion?”
“Oh! Come with me!” ‘16 said, grabbing the older cadet’s hand and dragging him to a bed so that he could look him over. Now that the cadet was sitting on a bed, it was somewhat easier to see the wound, but ‘16 was still rather short and had to stand on his tip-toes to get a look at it. He absentmindedly stuck his tongue out of the corner of the mouth as he looked at it.
It wasn’t very a big cut, but ‘16 knew head wounds were not to be underestimated. If he hit his head hard enough to get a cut like this while wearing a helmet, as ‘16 assumed it happened during a simulation, then he must’ve hit his head hard .
“Ouch,” ‘16 muttered, “I’ll get you an icepack!”
He dashed away to fetch one before the other cadet could even utter a word. He returned moments later with his prize, holding it out to the blond cadet proudly. The blond stared at him for a few moments before slowly taking it.
Breck had finished up with his other patient during that time and walked over to stand with them.
“Good job, kid,” Breck said gently, “Ice’ll help a little bit with the pain, but what do you think we really need to do for this cadet?”
“Um,” ‘16 said, holding his arms behind his back and looking to the ground, “A bacta patch?”
“Yep,” Breck said, nodding in approval, “Did you ask him what happened?”
“I asked him what was wrong. He said he had that cut and he thought he had a concussion.” ‘16 answered. He glanced at the blond clone, who was watching their exchange, lips curled upward in amusement.
“But did you ask what happened , kid?” Breck prompted.
‘16 sighed heavily and shook his head, “No.”
“Okay, that’s always our first step, remember, kid?” Breck asked, “We also need to test him for a concussion. How do you do that, kid?”
“Shine a light in his eyes and watch for dilation in the pupils?” ‘16 answered, somewhat unsure of himself. Breck nodded and told him to get a bacta patch for the cadet’s head.
The rest of the check up didn’t take too long. ‘16 watched closely as Breck took care of the older cadet. He also admired his blond hair, thinking it was the coolest thing he’d ever seen.
“You know, when I’m older, I’m going to shave the coolest design into my hair,” ‘16 told him matter-of-factly. The older cadet just smiled slightly and nodded at him.
It turned out that the blond did, in fact, have a slight concussion. Breck told him that he couldn’t do training for a few days, which earned him some grumbles. Breck crossed his arms and gave him a stern look, which ‘16 mimicked from his side.
When the older cadet was told he could leave, ‘16 gave him a hug as he stood up off of the bed. He didn’t see the incredulous look the blond cadet gave Breck, nor did he see Breck trying his best to contain his laughter.
“I read that patients heal quicker when they get hugs,” ‘16 told the blond when he pulled away, placing his arms on his hips and looking at him with pure joy.
“Uhhh, right,” the blond said, nodding to himself and smiling somewhat nervously at ‘16, “Good job, kid.” He ruffled ‘16’s hair and left the medbay.
‘16 turned back to Breck, smiling ear to ear, after that.
“Did I do good?” He asked, eyes shining.
“Yeah, kix— kid— sixteen, yeah. You did just fine,” Breck said, also ruffling his hair.
“‘Kix,’” ‘16 said, testing the word in his mouth, “I think I like that name.”
——————
When Kix was 9, almost 10, the war began, and he was shipped out to join Torrent Company in the 501st with Hardcase and Jesse. He had obviously learned much more about medicine since then, and had dealt with much more horrific wounds than a small cut and concussion.
When he was a little cadet, he had never thought about the brothers he couldn’t save, but as he grew older, they were all he could think about. He didn’t regret for one second wanting to be a medic, though. He could still help his brothers, even if he couldn’t save them all, although that was still difficult to believe every now and then.
He and his two batchmates were somewhat nervous to join Torrent. It had a reputation of excellence and wild plans, after all. Kix hoped he wouldn’t have to be treating them all in the medbay because of a crazy plan gone awry all of the time.
Their captain, Rex, was giving them the typical speech superiors gave new cadets about the ground-rules of being in a company.
Captain Rex had quite the reputation; he was a legend on Kamino. Still, when he took his helmet off, Kix hadn’t been expecting the blond hair. None of the stories ever talked about the captain being blond .
Glad he was able to hide his expression underneath his helmet, Kix zoned out for the rest of the speech, eyes frantically searching the captain’s head for a scar. There were other blond cadets, of course, and what were the odds of Rex being the same one he’d treated when he was first starting out as a medic?
His eyes landed upon Rex’s right temple, and his heart dropped when he saw the faded scar that rested upon his skin.
Later, when they were dismissed, Jesse cornered him in a hallway.
“Hey, why’d you freeze when you saw the captain without his helmet?” His brother asked.
Kix paused, deciding whether or not he could tell Jesse the truth, “Okay. You have to keep this a secret.”
“Ooo, I’m listening,” Jesse said, grinning widely as he took his helmet off. Kix took his off, too, and glanced down the hallway to make sure it was empty before telling Jesse about the blond clone cadet he’d treated when he first started his medic training.
“You gave him a hug afterwards?!” Jesse exclaimed at the end of his story, grabbing Kix’s shoulder to balance himself as he doubled over in a laughing fit. Kix knocked the hand off of his shoulder and Jesse fell to the ground.
“What? I read they helped!” Kix said defensively, crossing his arms in front of him and making no move to help Jesse up.
“Force, Kix, you were the sweetest cadet,” Jesse said, sitting up and wiping a stray tear from his eye, “That is so adorable.”
“It’s embarrassing! I don’t think he knew my number, though, and I got my name right after he left, so I doubt he’ll know it was me— I swear, Jesse, you better keep this a secret between us,” Kix said, leveling a glare upon his brother. Jesse mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key. Satisfied, Kix started down the hallway, leaving Jesse to get up on his own and run to catch up with him.
They made their way into the mess hall with their helmets still off. The Captain was leaving the mess at the same time.
“Cool hair, shiny,” he told Kix as he walked past. Once the Captain was behind them, Jesse grinned at Kix with a feral expression.
“Didn’t you say you told him you were going to shave your hair into a cool design?” He asked, lifting an eyebrow in inquiry.
Kix huffed and rolled his eyes, making his way to the line with Jesse trailing after him.
During their entire lunch, Jesse kept smirking at Kix. Hardcase kept asking what was up between them, but Kix continued to glare at Jesse while Jesse grinned evilly at him. Neither ever answered Hardcase’s question that evening.
——————
Around a year later, Captain Rex would find himself with a concussion, earned in a similar manner as when he’d been a young cadet.
Kix was busy with other patients who needed medical attention more, and Rex had insisted that he be looked at last. Without a second thought, Kix ordered Jesse to keep an eye on the captain to ensure he wouldn’t leave before Kix had a chance to look him over.
When he was finally able to get to the captain, he brought over an icepack. He had found that icepacks really did help with headaches— they at least worked long enough for painkillers to kick in.
Rex was surprisingly obedient as Kix looked him over, first patching up the cut he’d earned himself (this time on his left temple) and then checking for signs of a concussion. Jesse sat off to the side, grinning to himself, although Kix didn’t notice him.
Crossing his arms across his chest and giving Rex a stern look, he said, “You have a mild concussion. You are not to do any strenuous activity or even open up a datapad, am I clear?”
Rex nodded at him, “Of course, Kix.”
Kix nodded in approval, “Good. You’re good to go, Captain.” He turned to check on another patient.
“What, no hug this time?” Asked Rex from behind him.
Kix whirled around and found both Rex and Jesse grinning at him. His jaw dropped and treated Jesse with a fierce glare.
“Jesse! You told him!” He exclaimed, “I told you that in confidence !”
Jesse burst out laughing, “Some stories just have to be told, Kix.”
“For what it’s worth, Kix, I think it’s sweet,” Rex added. Kix flushed and turned away from the two of them, ignoring them as he studied the chart of the patient he’d been looking over.
He then paused when he didn’t hear either of them move and turned back to them, both of their expressions expectant, like they were waiting for something.
He sighed, resigned, before he asked somewhat sheepishly, “Did you... did you really want a hug, sir?”