Chapter Text
Kix stirs slowly, feeling frozen right down to his bones. He groggily opens his eyes to see two B1 droids peering down at him.
“Do you think it's awake?” the one on his left asks the other.
“I don't know, prod it or something,” the other one suggests, head tilting as it considers him.
Kix watches as an arm extends towards him, feeling a metal finger prod him hesitantly in the chest.
“Umm, maybe,” the droid that poked him says. “Is it supposed to do something?”
“I don't know,” the other droid almost huffs in annoyance at its companion, “maybe there's an on switch?”
‘Can droids be annoyed?’ Kix thinks distractedly. His brain doesn't feel quite right and this conversation happening over his head is making absolutely no sense whatsoever.
“Hey clone. Umm, wake up.”
“Kark off,” Kix grumbles at them, because it's not like he can do anything else right now. His limbs feel stiff and unresponsive, and his body aches from the remnants of some sort of sedative.
The droids seemingly perk up.
“It's awake!” the droid on Kix's left exclaims. “How do we get it out without damaging it?”
Kix almost snorts in disbelief. They hadn't been worried about ‘damaging’ him when they had come after him and shoved him in this… thing. What's changed? His thoughts are frustratingly sluggish. The cottony feeling in his head is not helping matters right now.
The conversation above his head has progressed since he last paid attention.
“-ll clones are to be freed and returned to their brothers’, that's what the boss said, now that the war is over.”
Wait.
What?
Kix's head spins as he tries to understand. He's pretty certain he's either hallucinating or dreaming. However, the next thing he knows he’s being lifted by the droids, who are being gentle? That makes no sense. Although, none of it is making sense to Kix currently. He stumbles as he's set down on his feet, and a third droid catches him before he faceplants. He finds himself staring at the cryostasis pod he’s just been occupying and then at the three droids watching him curiously.
“Err,” he starts eloquently, slurring slightly as his brain and mouth attempt to reconnect. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Oh,” the first droid pipes up, “the boss told us you clones are all free now so you can go!”
That makes no more sense to Kix than the last time they said it. He supposes it has to be some kind of weird Separatist trick to get him to comply. He shivers in the slightly warmer air, wrapping his arms around his torso and shoving his hands in his armpits.
“Boss?” he enquires, glancing around at the seemingly non-hostile droids. He's only seen them behave like this once before for the Citadel mission after the General had tinkered with some.
“Yep!” the second droid answers brightly. “Dooku and Grievous are dead, the Sith Lord on Coruscant running the war from both sides is also dead, so we have a new boss!”
“This boss doesn't dismantle us when it's annoyed either,” the third droid chirps from where it's still helping him stay upright.
“Karking… right,” Kix answers, utterly confused. He pushes away from the droid holding him and almost collapses again. He manages to catch himself against the wall to steady himself, breathing heavily. The droids look at each other.
“Are you ok, clone?” a droid asks over the sound of ringing in Kix’s ears.
“A medkit would be fucking great,” he mutters sullenly, knowing full well there wouldn't be one as he's surrounded by droids and-
“Is this a medkit?” the droid that poked him asks, pulling an item out of the locker behind it.
“It's a bag with a cross on it,” another replies, “that means it belongs to the medic class, right?”
Kix almost sighs in relief. He thanks the stars he was carrying it when he was captured and that they kept it.
“Yea, that's mine,” he says. “Medic class,” he adds whilst pointing to himself.
“Oh!” they chorus, sounding strangely intrigued. “Like a clone version of an engineer?”
Kix huffs. “Yea, almost.”
Opening the bag on muscle memory; Kix selects the medication he requires and promptly injects it, feeling the almost immediate relief as it courses through his bloodstream. With his mind clearer, he can ponder the truly bizarre situation he has found himself in. It still doesn't make any pissing sense. He eyes the droids and their blasters.
Either he’s extremely unfortunate or these droids have suddenly become a lot sharper since their new boss took over because they notice him eyeing them warily.
“We aren't going to shoot you, clone,” the one that had stopped him from faceplanting states. “If you want your blaster it's with your armour.”
“But don't shoot us with it,” it adds, almost hastily.
“We can get you back to other clones,” the pokey droid states.
“Where-” Kix starts before he is cut off.
“On the way to Dooku's fortress. Although the boss wants to redirect you to damaged clone forces due to being a medic class.”
Kix thinks there must be smoke pouring from his ears as his brain tries to keep up.
“They - what?”
“Boss says that you are of the medic class and will be able to help,” the droid clarifies.
“But, how do they know?”
The droids all give the approximation of a shrug.
Kix sighs. “Alright,” he says. Then a thought comes to him. It's stupid and risky and Kix knows Rex would bollock him for it, and then do it himself anyway. The shebs’palon.
“Can I meet your boss?”
The droids all look at each other.
“Don't know where the boss is," the pokey one says.
“Don't think the boss knows where the boss is.”
“Well that can't be right,” Kix argues, “of course the boss knows where they are.”
“The boss is,” the chirpy droid gestures vaguely, “everywhere?”
Kix resists the urge to facepalm. Just. “Please tell me your boss at least has a name?”
“Does the boss have a name?”
“Don't know, never asked.”
Kix sighs, long and weary. “Nevermind, just get me to those injured clones - we’ll figure out your boss' situation later.”
The droids haven't let Kix use the long range comms but he has been free to explore the ship. It's strange wandering around a Sep ship without being at risk of being shot at. He is however being tailed by the three droids who were with him when he woke up. Kix can't decide whether it's oddly endearing or whether to put a bolt in their heads. He resists the temptation for the moment as he has troopers waiting on medical care and his curiosity regarding this mystery boss overrules his twitchy trigger finger.
One of the droids behind him trips and clangs into the bulkhead.
“Look,” he says turning around. “You three don't need to follow me around, I'm not going anywhere.”
The one that tripped shakes its head. Although Kix isn't sure whether that's in response to his statement or from rattling its circuits.
“We want to,” chirps the Chirpy one. Kix really needs to ask them their… names? Do B1s have names?
“And the boss says you're important,” adds the one that seems to be somewhat the Leader.
“Oh?” asks Kix, carefully keeping the concern out of his voice. The idea that the Boss knows who he is is somewhat unsettling. Let alone being someone of importance.
“Yep!” pipes up the one that had clonked itself against the bulkhead. “Boss said that you're the best medic in the GAR despite being a grouchy shebs and they would rip out our circuits personally if we let you come to harm.”
Kix has no idea how to respond to that. “That's… oddly specific,” he says weakly.
The droids do their version of a shrug.
Before Kix can process that conversation a transmission comes through notifying the droids of their impending arrival at their destination.
“Roger roger,” they acknowledge before turning to Kix.
“Time to go, umm… clone,” they say. They pause a second. “Do you have a designation, medic clone?”
Kix, still reeling from the earlier discussion, answers distantly, “Kix”.
The three droids visibly brighten somehow. “Good to meet you, Medic Kix."