Work Text:
CC-2224 does not need to watch his hands fire the blaster, and does not need to hear the heavy thumping sound of a body falling to confirm the target was successfully terminated. He knows the target was terminated because he is a good soldier, and good soldiers follow orders. He can look calmly out of his visor and search for the next target, the next enemy of the empire.
-
Somewhere in his mind, Cody screams.
-
It was a successful battle. The enemy was defeated, with few remaining survivors that will be easy to hunt down.
-
After the battle, CC-2224 removes the armor and puts it away in an available space. From muscle memory, hands twitch towards a particular spot, but it is occupied. It does not matter.
The gear goes in another spot. All the armor is the same. All the spaces are the same.
All around him, other clones match his movements, precise in every movement.
CC-2224 walks away from the room with the others.
-
CC-2224 does not need to watch his hands move food from the plate to his mouth, food calculated to bring maximum nutrition to his mouth. He is a clone, and his sense of proprioception has been calibrated to a standard higher than average for humans.
He sleeps and does not dream.
-
Cody screams and dreams and screams and dreams and screams and dreams and screams.
-
The few remaining survivors are not easy to hunt down. CC-2224 has been tasked with ensuring their removal. His squad has been assigned to him.
He knows they will succeed because they are good soldiers, and good soldiers follow orders.
-
They track the survivors—the enemies down to Rishi. There is nothing to suggest they present a significant threat, but the orders have been given. There are two of them.
They are together.
When CC-2224 and the rest of the squad find the targets, there is a brief moment of dissonance. They look familiar, these targets.
They look like the other members of the squad. They look like himself, CC-2224, supposes, with vague disinterest.
But they stand differently. They don’t move with the precision required of soldiers.
-
No , says what remains of Cody, no more than a broken cry. No, please, not them, please not them, not my brothers. It manifests as nothing more than ringing in the ears, easily dismissed as the soft echo of blaster fire off the door frame.
-
The first target fights back. He is small, scrawny, and determined, launching himself to begin punching and kicking with muscles that would not pass muster at any inspection.
It does not matter whether he would pass inspection. Blaster shots find him, three to the chest, and he falls dead to the floor.
The second target does not fight back. He had a stance to begin, perhaps, but it faded after the first one fell. His arms went limp and fell to his sides, hands loose.
CC-2224 raised his arms, and fired.
-
Cody watches with horror as his arms, his hands, shoot and kill Rex. He watches as Rex collapses. He was beyond dreaming now.
He had watched as Rex gave up. Rex could have fought back, as Echo had. But Rex, stalwart Rex, who was capable of jumping out of the way of that shot, chose not to… And that shot, that shot he had fired with his own hands, that he had just watched his hands fire...
His hands had fired the shot and he had watched.
There was no dreaming now.
There was no screaming now.
There was only watching as his body continued to move.
-
CC-2224 reported back in with his squad. The mission had been a success. As before, they removed their armor, ate, and slept.
He dreams of the mission.
In his dreams his throat is sore and his face is wet. He reaches up to touch his face, and finds he cannot, but suspects they are tears. He is unsure why he would be crying. There is no reason for distress. This mission—all his missions to date—have been successful. Even if it hadn’t been, distress is frowned upon.
He hears a voice telling the enemies to run, and realizes it is his own voice. He supposes that explains why his throat is sore, if he was screaming.
He watches as the enemies fall again and again, and even in his dreams, feels nothing but satisfaction.
-
Cody could hear it over and over in his dreams, the ringing sound of laser fire. He coordinated the attack on Echo and Rex, gave the orders to shoot. They fall again and again.
In his dreams, Echo and Rex’s bodies lay on the floor before turning their heads to look back up at him. Then they get back up to stand against the wall so the firing squad could start again.
He could feel the resistance of the trigger against his finger, even through the armor.
He could not feel his tears because he was not crying.
His throat was not raw because he was not screaming.
Not in his dreams.
In his dreams, he was a good soldier, and good soldiers follow orders.