Chapter Text
Just another boring day for FCT-9905.
She got up, ate, went to basic training, ate again, and went back to the bunk room to get changed for lights out.
Her squadmates didn’t like her very much, and she wasn’t very sure why.
Maybe it was because she didn’t look like the rest of her brothers, or that she was the only girl she knew, other than some of the kaminoans.
Maybe it was because her handler was starting her individual training in spy work.
Whatever the reason was, her squadmates hated her, and FCT-9905 did her very best to avoid them.
She felt very smart for thinking of it, and she decided that she was a pretty smart little Blue. Not many of her brothers would have thought of it… then again, not many of them had this problem.
But there were still times where she simply couldn’t stay out of their way, like mealtimes, group simulations, and lights out.
“I feel like you shouldn’t have such a nice bunk,” Lesson said, a mean smile on his face.
FCT-9905 blinked.
She didn’t know what he was talking about, and she was sure that he didn’t even know what he was talking about.
There weren’t many ways for the cadets on Kamino to learn from outside sources, that was a privilege reserved for the cadets that were going out for field training, and almost none of the mass produced cadets were there yet.
“Yeah, you got such a nice warm bed and a nice squad I don’t know many others that would put up with you,” CT-6010 laughed, “You got nice things without even trying!”
“I-i don’t understand.” FCT-9905 stammered, “Because that’s wrong. I sleep on a pile of boxes as far away from your bunks as I can.”
This entire interaction was not necessary. She had only been changing into her night clothes, the only outfit that didn’t scratch her skin raw.
“That’s- that’s not what I mean. You get a nice place to sleep. Be thankful for that, Runt.” Slash sneered, the decanting defect across his face twisting as he ripped her shirt out of her hands and pushed her back, making her fall to the floor.
FCT-9905 didn’t understand why Slash of all cadets was cruel to her. He had a defect just like she did!
Sure, the scar-like mark looked cool, and it didn’t affect him very much outside of the daily checkups that the kaminoans gave them, but he was like her!
“My name isn’t Runt!” She whined, trying to grab her shirt from Slash, “Give that back!”
He laughed and held it higher over her head, and she could just barely grab onto the edge while standing on her tip toes.
She was too focused on Slash to notice CT-6010 until he rammed into her chest, knocking her back to the floor and leaving her gasping for air as she curled around the ache from the point of impact.
It looked like she was going to be going to bed bruised tonight.
“Aww, little Runt, too small to even fight back.” Lesson teased cruelly, leaning over her, “Maybe they’ll have to decommission you.”
“Stop being so mean!” FCT-9905 shouted back, jumping to her feet and throwing a hard punch to Lesson’s gut, remembering some of the things she’d learned in basic training.
Keep moving, be light on your toes, and try not to get hit.
Lesson swallowed hard, bent double from the surprise and pain.
FCT-9905 let herself be proud for a short moment before the older clone straightened and punched her in the eye.
Maybe she should have paid more attention to the trainer.
Her head snapped back and she saw stars. FCT-9905 dropped to her knees, meeting the cold floor for the third time in the last ten minutes.
“Little Runt thinks she can be stronger than us.” Slash hissed. CT-6010 laughed and kicked her in the side, digging into the soft part under her ribs while she was already down.
“Well, we can’t let that happen now can we?” Lesson smirked, enjoying how FCT-9905 coughed and squirmed away from the kicks that were now coming from the other two clones.
“I-i’m sorry!” She gasped, tears falling as she covered her neck from the blows raining down on her.
“What are you sorry for, Runt?”
Lesson was leaning over her, his boot digging harshly into her ribs, putting nearly all his weight down on her.
“I-i'm sorry for talking back!” She wheezed, “I'm sorry for thinking I'm good for anything accept for helping you and-”
FCT-9905 didn’t move, praying to the stars she had only seen in textholos that Lesson wouldn’t press down harder.
If she stayed still…
“And?”
It was getting harder for her to breathe and it felt like she was suffocating under the weight.
“I’m sorry for living. Surviving past decanting and taking resources that better men could be using-” She sobbed.
“Hmmm.” Lesson hummed.
“I think she’s had enough, Less.” CT-6010 sighed, “If she dies, we’ll probably get into big trouble. You know that the kaminoans think she’s a fun science project.”
“He's right.” Slash muttered, “She keeps them from poking at me.”
“Fine.” Lesson grumbled, pressing his boot in harshly one last time before stepping away from her, leaving the small clone laying prone on the ground, “You’re lucky that we follow the rules. That you have caring brothers that see your value.”
Her value was being a distraction so that her squadmates could be free from the scientists that made them.
She pulled herself to her feet as soon as she got her breath back, grabbing the shirt that had been discarded a couple steps away, biting down a groan as she moved.
FCT-9905 hobbled to the fresher connected to their room, gingerly touching the inflamed skin around her eye, feeling a small trickle of blood from the cut through her eyebrow.
The lights cut out suddenly, plunging the refresher and the adjoining bunk room into darkness, signalling lights out.
“Runt, get out of there! It’s lights out, which means sleep!” Slash shouted, “Stars know that we don’t need you making us fail any more tests.”
FCT-9905 sighed and left the refresher, heading for the barracks door instead of the sad little bed in the corner.
Nobody tried to stop her from leaving, even if there were a few vengeful mutters from CT-6010 when the bright light of the hallway momentarily lit up the dark room.
She liked wandering the halls, especially when she definitely wasn’t supposed to.
“Stupid Lesson, thinking he’s better than me. I’m not the reason that we keep failing. He is the reason.” FCT-9905 grumbled under her breath as she walked along, her bare feet patting against the cold floors, “Stupid Slash for being taller. I’m not small, I'm normal sized!”
She sighed and looked at the walls around her, trying to figure out where she had wandered.
This was a whole new section of the facility that she hadn’t discovered yet, and the thrill made her momentarily forget her anger and pain.
Cadets weren’t supposed to be out in the halls like this, but if her squadmates could beat on her whenever they thought they could, she could wander as far as she wanted.
The Kaminoans that made her and the handler that oversaw all her training definitely didn’t like it, but what were they going to do? Decomm her?
If they hadn’t already, they probably weren’t going to now.
She pulled a face, wincing as her bruised eye twinged sharply. The blood was drying from the cut in her eyebrow, making her skin feel tighter.
FCT-9905 tried to wipe it off, but it was pretty stuck on, and the action only reopened the injury.
While she fiddled with the cut, she heard a commotion from up ahead, coming towards her.
If it was one of the trainers or a kaminoan, she would get into huge trouble, because Blues were supposed to be in bed.
If it was another cadet FCT-9905 would probably get beat up again, something she didn’t want.
To avoid whoever it was, she dove into a nearby storage room, the door closing behind her and plunging the room into complete darkness.
She felt her way around, tucking herself behind some tall crates, biting her tongue to stop whines of pain from escaping as her already bruised side was squished even further.
The door of the storage closet opened again, just as she had finished tucking herself away.
FCT-9905 froze, holding her breath as a loud cadet laugh echoed through the room.
“Look at the big oaf! Aw, don’t cry, you’re too old for that, CT-9902!” The cadet guffawed loudly, his taunts followed by a loud crash as somebody was pushed into the boxes FCT-9905 was hiding behind.
Her squeak of pain was hidden under the loud cadets at the door.
It took her a second to notice what the cadet had been called.
His ID number started with 99 too, so what if he had been decanted weird like her? She had heard that Slash’s other batchmates had other defects like him, and it made her wonder if that was how it worked.
Or maybe it didn’t and she was the only weird one in the facility, destined to be a stress reliever in the worst ways.
“You don’t want me to fight you,” came the small voice of the cadet being bullied. FCT-9905 winced slightly, hearing herself in his voice, “I might hurt’ya by accident!”
“Oh, excuses!” The laughing cadet scoffed.
“I- you guys are idiots.” Said the victim.
“Oh? You think words can hurt us? You’re a moron.” The bully paused, letting his crew laugh for a minute before continuing, “You gotta get up earlier than that to come up with something that would actually hurt my feelings. But you might be too busy sleeping.”
FCT-9905 squeezed her eyes shut as she heard the sound of a fist hitting skin and the door to the closet closing.
She let out the breath she had been holding, trying to tell it CT-9902 was still there.
Then she heard a soft sniffle and she pushed herself further into the shelter of the crates, flinching when her elbow banged against the wall.
The sniffling stopped and the victim’s voice echoed through the small room.
“Who’s there?”
FCT-9905 held herself as still as possible, clenching her hands into fists to stop them from shaking.
“I’m sorry if I scared you.” The victim was shuffling around, getting closer to her hiding spot.
Something in his voice made her want to believe that he actually meant it, but her squad had taught her to not trust what others say.
“Please, you can come out, I won’t hurt you.”
FCT-99051 strained her eyes, trying to see the cadet in the lack of light, failing miserably to see what he looked like.
But his voice was coming from a spot further above her head when she stood, and that must mean that he was older than her.
“Are you a clone?” CT-9902 asked, and she got the feeling that he was young, despite his apparent size, possessing a kind of innocence that Tubies and really new Blues had.
“Yeah.” She whispered.
“You sound kinda weird. Your voice is higher than normal” He pointed out, making her wince, “But that’s ok! I’m weird too, see!”
She couldn’t see much, but she took his word for it.
“I sound like this because I’m a girl.” She muttered.
“What’s a girl?” CT-9905 asked.
“Um…” FCT-9905 thought back to when she asked a kaminoan that same question, “A girl is somebody that doesn’t have a penis and a bunch of test-ost-erone.”
Those were the words that the kaminoan had used, and she didn’t quite understand all of them but she was going to once she was allowed to use the archives freely for upper-level training.
“Oh.” The other clone breathed, “That means you're different too. That’s ok, I don’t mind!”
“Really? Everybody else does.” FCT-9905 huffed, wincing when her ribs reminded her that they were rather bruised still.
“I know.” CT-9902’s voice sounded sad.
They sat in silence for a moment, unsure of how to continue. They were similar in their experiences, and it made FCT-9905 more ready to trust him.
“Um… maybe. Maybe we can be different together?” She asked.
“You would want that?” He sounded startled and confused, “Don’t you already have a squad?”
She sighed, “Yeah, but they’re mean and they don’t like me. I’m only good for being a distraction to protect Slash from being poked and prodded at.”
Warm tears pricked at her eyes and she tried to wipe them away, but was reminded that she had wedged herself too far into the crack to move without agitating her bruises.
“Are you ok?” CT-9905 asked, placing a hand against her chest, making her wince again. He quickly moved away.
“I-” She shivered, “I’m ok. I just need some bacta for my bruises."
CT-9905 hummed and scooped her out of her hiding place and up against his chest.
Her stomach dropped with the sudden movement and she grabbed onto the other cadet’s tunic.
“Sorry, sorry.” He whispered as he carried her out into the brightly lit hall.
In the light FCT-9905 was able to really see what CT-9905 looked like.
“Oh, look, you have yellow hair!” He grinned, but his face fell asleep his eyes took in her other features, “And your face looks hurt. You might have to stay in the med-bay for a bit to get it fixed.”
She nodded and closed her eyes against the lights as they started moving, relishing in being held like a Tubie again.
~<*>~
CT-9902 didn’t know what to think about the little clone he was carrying.
He wasn’t even sure what a ‘girl’ was, except that she appeared to be one.
And he was thrilled that there was another defective clone, like him. CT-9902 didn’t want anything else to happen to her, but he had been told by his handlers that he wasn’t supposed to feel like that.
They wanted him to be destructive, not protective.
“CT-9902? Are you ok?” The cadet in his arms asked, cracking an eye open to look up at him.
Her eyes were a different color from the brown eyes that he saw all day, kind of hazel-ish.
“I’m fine. Why?”
“You stopped walking.”
He had?
“How do you know my number?” He asked once he started moving again.
“I heard those bullies calling you that.” She muttered, “I’m FCT-9905 by the way.”
“No name yet?” Having a name given to a clone by his brothers was one of the highest honors a cadet could have. But, sometimes cadets would pick their own nicknames, especially if they were cocky enough.
“Yep. My squad wants to call me ‘Runt’ but I refuse.” FCT-9905 huffed, a bit of fierceness peaking through her shyness.
“What does runt mean?” CT-9902 asked.
“It means small and weak. Most likely to die because I’m disadvantaged.” She grumbled, “It doesn’t help that our first couple of sims ended in failure because of me.”
“I don’t think you’re like that.” CT-9902 said loyally as he finally reached the med-bay doors.
“Mm, thanks, but you don't really know me.” FCT-9905 breathed, wincing as she was jostled by CT-9902’s movement to open the door.
“Sorry, sorry.” He didn’t like that she was in pain, it made something feel itchy in his brain.
The opening doors startled the medical droid and the medic apprentice that had been talking at the far end of the room.
“What is this?” The cadet asked.
“Her squadmates beat ‘er up.” CT-9902 growled, “Now she’s hurt. Can you help?”
“I just need a little bacta.” FCT-9905 muttered, “I’ll be fine.”
The apprentice motioned for CT-9902 to put the girl down on an unoccupied bed, grabbing a scanner and waving it over FCT-9905’s body,
“While your injuries are mild, it’s a serious issue.” The cadet sighed, looking over the device's readout, “This should not have happened to you.”
“Well, it did.” FCT-9905 shrugged, “Unless you can change their attitude towards me, it’ll keep happening.”
“Can I make a request to get our squads switched?” CT-9902 asked, a sudden thought striking him.
“You can, but it’s not very often that the kaminoans approve the switches. They try to keep their squads together so that a sense of familiarity can be established. But if you two are in serious danger-”
“I’m bleeding because my squad wanted to pick on me.” FCT-9905 interrupted, “What do you think'll happen if I make ‘em real mad?”
The medic apprentice sighed again and nodded, “Yeah, I’ll start the paperwork for your transfer. You're also going to have to put in requests, but me doing a part of it will bring more attention to your case.” He paused, “I don’t want you two going back to your squads tonight, alright? You can get your stuff in the morning, when the kaminoans are awake.”
“Thank you.” FCT-9905 smiled, closing her eyes and falling into an easy sleep, the bacta slowly healing the bruising over her eye.
“Are both of you 99s?” The apprentice asked, looking through their records as he filled out forms.
“Yeah.” CT-9902 said, unsure of what the other cadet was insinuating.
“I get why they split you guys up, but I know a bunch of cadets that can be really mean. They might grow out of it, but a lot of them are almost Tweens.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged, picking up FCT-9905’s limp hand and running a finger over her finger nails. He felt a little restless now that she was sleeping, and the other cadet actually being sympathetic to him made him feel uneasy.
“You should know that they won’t let you stay a two clone squad for very long. The Kaminoans are trying to fill some kind of quota and every squad needs at least four cadets, for now at least.” The cadet informed him.
“I don’t care.” CT-9902 frowned at him, “How do you know that?”
“I’ve been working in the library for a while now, since I'm going to become a medic.” The apprentice said, “I find some interesting stuff when I get bored. Anyway, maybe they’ll put the rest of your batch with you.”
“What do you mean by that?” He asked the apprentice.
“I have medical records attached to a couple other cadets that came from batch 99, but because of patient confidentiality, I can’t exactly give them to you.” The cadet laughed, “the kaminoans would have my head if I did.”
“But there’s more?” CT-9902 asked.
“There are more.” And the apprentice left, taking his datapad with him, leaving only the medical droid with the two of them.
“More brothers, like us.” He breathed, resting his chin on his hands as he closed his eyes, “I wonder how we’ll find them.”
They waited a couple days in a temporary sleeping room, but the morning of the second day brought their new placements.
The two cadets settled into their new barracks, far from their previous squads, and had also received their new training schedules.
“The longnecks work quicker than I thought they would.” CT-9902 hummed, using the term that some of the more angry of the clones had come up with for their creators. His schedule was written in small letters that he didn’t quite know how to read.
“They don’t want their precious ‘experiments’ dying before they can get some real data.” FCT-9905 scoffed as she tucked the edges of her only blanket under the mattress, “They want to know how we can be useful to them.”
“What are they training you for?” He asked her.
“Mm, Spy work mostly. Sabotage when they get around to it. Apparently they think that I can be useful for infiltration. What about you?”
“Demolition.” He grinned, his eyes shining, “Ballistics. I really like it because I get to break things and I’m learning how to blow things up.”
“That’s much cooler than knowing how to blend into a crowd.” She huffed, “What are you learning about right now?”
“The best chemical compounds that you can force to bond that’ll make the best explosions, and the encapsulating those compounds in a metal shell that’ll delay the reaction long enough for you to run away.” He said, “I also learned how to bust through a permacrete wall with as little injury as possible.”
“You like wrecking things, don’t you.” FCT-9905 said, her eyes furrowed in thought, “Hmmm…”
“What?” CT-9902 asked, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.
“I think I know what your name should be!” She grinned, her smile bright.
“What do you mean?” He asked again, feeling a little excited, but unsure if that’s how names worked. His previous squadmates would just shout something at each other during a sim and it kinda just stuck.
“Wrecker!”
“Huh? You mean like-”
“Yeah! It’s easier than shouting ‘CT-9902’ across a battlefield, and it’s what you do!” FCT-9905 was practically shaking with excitement, “It fits you perfectly!”
Wrecker. He liked it.
He was Wrecker now, a name given to him by his first actual nice clone he had met. Now he needed to return the favor.
FCT-9905 needed a name too.
The opportunity came a couple days later, during one of their first few training simulations together.
It was one of the more simple ones, Wrecker and FCT-9905 just needed to get to the center of the dummy droid formation and retrieve the intel from the computer setup.
They were halfway through when Wrecker noticed FCT-9905’s interesting fighting style.
She was only a Blue, but she had this way of skillfully avoiding stunbolts while firing back her own with the shotty training pistols, working gracefully like she had been born to dance across the field rather than just charging like Wrecker.
“Hey, Grace! I need cover over here!” He shouted, his voice echoing across the sim battlefield.
“What did you just call me?” She yelled back, rolling underneath a dummy droid and stunning it, popping up at Wrecker’s side to lay down cover fire.
“It's your name!” Wrecker laughed maniacally, punching a droid in the face and denting the metal.
“Really? Now?” She asked, giving him an incredulous look from under her training helmet.
“Yep. You’re Grace now.”
She was grinning now too, but the feeling was short lived as they had to jump away from each other as a burst of stunbolts crackled against the floor where they had just been.
Wrecker focused on the droids as Grace motioned that she would be sneaking ahead to grab the information.
He lost sight of her for a moment, even though he had been looking directly at her, but he blamed it on the stunbolts that he had to dodge away from while returning his own shots.
The droids froze a couple minutes later as Grace managed to pull the information, ending the sim in record time.
They were rewarded with an extra-big dinner that night after their study sessions later in the day.
“We make a great team.” Grace said, sipping her soup neatly, the complete opposite from Wrecker’s mess. The bruise on her face was almost gone now, being only a faint yellow over her eye now.
“Our strengths just go together.” He agreed wisely.
“Makes me wonder why they even separated us in the first place.” She sighed, “Maybe they could have had us working together sooner.
Wrecker shrugged, setting down his cleaned-out bowl. His tray was empty now, and he was still hungry, even with the extra food they had been given.
Grace looked up and noticed the expression on his face and pushed her small loaf of bread closer to him, nodding.
He smiled and grabbed it, eating it slowly to make it last a little longer.
“They should give you bigger trays on a daily basis.” Grace said, “You keep growing too fast. We should keep a stash of snacks somewhere in our barracks for you.”
“Stealing food isn’t allowed, sad squad.” A random cadet jeered at them as he walked past with his buddies.
Grace rolled her eyes and simply went on eating, but Wrecker couldn’t ignore the jab. What right did this clone have to call them ‘sad?!
“What makes you think you aren’t any sadder than us?” He asked, getting to his feet to tower over the cadet that gulped, seeming to realize that he messed up.
“Uh..”
“That’s enough Wrecker.” Grace called, her hand resting in his tightly clenched one as she got up to put her tray in the washer, “I think you’ve scared ‘im sufficiently.”
“I ain’t scared!” The cadet hissed, his hands shaking where he was gripping his tray, “Pipsqueak!”
“I’m not insulted by a little baby Blue that can’t even use proper grammar.” Grace said, her back straightening, her face falling into a deadly calm expression that made even Wrecker feel a bit uneasy.
The tray in her hand was starting to look like a potential weapon now.
“I- I’m almost a Tween!” The cadet stammered, trying to gain back some credit, “Not that you would know what that’s like, since you’re such a runt!”
Grace screamed in anger and bashed her tray over the cadet’s head, and hell broke loose.
~<*>~
This situation was not desirable, but it was exhilarating.
She grumbled as sticky soup spilled down her clothes from the bowl she had grabbed from a nearby table, but she looked far better than the other cadets that were covered in other, grosser, things.
“Grace, I thought you were supposed to not start food fights!” Wrecker teased, “But I’m glad you did it and not me! That means I won’t be blamed this time!”
The half eaten loaf of bread that the taller clone had smacked another cadet in the eye, knocking him off the table he had been using as high ground to throw food at the other cadets.
“Yeah, well, now we need to get out of here or I will really be taking the blame for this.” Grace said, rolling her eyes, “Which I will refuse because I wasn’t the instigator!”
“You were the one that bashed that cadet over the head!” Wrecker laughed, “The sound it made was funny!”
The food fight had picked up in intensity as the entire mess hall of cadets got swept up in the conflict. Food was flying everywhere, splattering against walls, and some of the cadets were even resorting to punching and kicking each other.
“Laugh later, escape consequences now!” Grace giggled, stabbing a cadet’s hand with a spoon as she slipped away, Wrecker on her tail.
They had just made it to the door as a shout rang out over the hubbub.
“The weirdos are getting away!”
Eerie stillness fell and all eyes turned to Grace and Wrecker, who were now standing frozen by the doors.
“Kark-” Grace cursed, “Run for it!”
Wrecker’s laughter followed them down the hall as they bolted, a large mob of messy cadets behind them.
“Take a left!” Wrecker yelled as the hall in front of them split into two corridors, even though the whole stampede following them could hear him too.
Grace shook her head and grabbed his wrist, tugging him to the right at the last second.
“What was that for?” Wrecker asked, rubbing his wrist.
“Don't announce your plan to our enemies.” Grace huffed, turning down another hallway and running straight into another cadet.
She pushed away from him, but was bowled over a moment later by Wrecker tripping over her. He landed on top of her, knocking the air out of her lungs and making her groan as her almost healed ribs were squished.
“Ow- Wrecker get off- Ow!” She yelped, trying to wiggle out from under her much heavier brother.
“What’s going on?” The cadet Grace had just crashed into asked, forcefully pulling Grace out from under Wrecker, “Are you trying to hurt this cadet- uhh, what are you?”
“Let me go!” Grace hissed, pulling her arm out of this cadet’s grip as Wrecker finally got to his feet, brushing imaginary dust off his food-stained clothes, “Let me go! We need to-”
“I found them!” A food-covered cadet yelled, but he also skidded to a stop when he spotted the clone Grace had run into, “Who are you?”
“I’m asking the questions here.” The cadet puffed out his chest and glared at the slightly taller clone he was facing, “Leave these two alone and go clean off, soldier.”
“Yeah, or what?” The cadet stalked forward, the hoard of other food-stained cadets finally catching up and seeing this standoff, “What are you going to do, baby Blue?”
“I’ll report you to the kaminoans.” The mystery clone growled, his eyes narrowed, “You think your big tough guy attitude is going to survive reconditioning? Well, it’s a good thing that there’s nothing between your ears to begin with.”
The food-covered cadet took a step back, nodding and pushing through the group of cadets behind him, leading a long quiet procession back to the scene of the crime.
Grace blinked, turning to thank the cadet, but she closed her mouth when she caught his glare.
“Explain.”
“I started a food fight because somebody called me a pipsqueak, which originally happened because I was trying to use words to make him back off instead of violence, but it kinda backfired, so we decided to take off and leave the other cadets to clean up the mess- are you going to turn us over to the kaminoans for reconn?” Grace gulped.
“We have more than a bad attitude between our ears.” Wrecker said nervously, as if it would help their case. Grace knew he had to be fiddling with the ragged edge of his tunic, since it was something he did when faced with authority of any kind.
“Well… as far as I heard, you were simply defending yourselves. Your reputation was at stake, and the only ones in the wrong are them.” The cadet shrugged.
Grace and Wrecker both deflated in relief, thankful that this mystery clone had not only helped them, but was also actively going to cover for them.
Maybe it wasn’t that much of a surprise.
This cadet had some kind of air about him that set him apart from the other cadets, and his hair was long, much longer than regulation commonly allowed, and his eyes were kind of golden, brighter than Wrecker’s but less green than Grace’s.
He was a little different.
Like them.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” The cadet asked, raising an eyebrow as he crossed his arms.
Grace grinned and shared a look with Wrecker, knowing he was probably thinking the same thing.
“You’re defective!” She said cheerfully.
“Yeah, so?” The cadet’s crossed arms tightened over his chest and he looked ready to bolt.
“You’re like us!” Wrecker laughed, “Like how I’m big enough to be an older Tween and super strong and really hard to hurt in sims-”
“And like how I’m a girl!” Grace finished, “Do you come from batch 99 too?”
The cadet’s eyes narrowed, his face locking and hiding any emotion.
“And if I was?”
“Well, that’d be cool, and I would ask your name if you have one and your number if you didn’t and then I'd ask if your squad was treating you well and formally invited you to join us if they weren’t.” Grace smiled, Wrecker nodding enthusiastically, “Hypothetically of course.”
“I’m Hunter. CT-9901.” The cadet said, his face still betraying no emotion.
“Cool,” Wrecker nodded, “And your squad?”
Hunter’s face finally fell and Grace shot a quick look at Wrecker.
“I don’t have a set squad yet. I keep getting moved so that I can find the ‘best fit’.” Hunter sighed, “They boys don’t like me.”
“You can transfer to us.” Wrecker said, “We’ll even do the forms so that you don’t have to.”
“I thought you guys were lying about that.” Hunter said, “you have to be lying.”
“We’re not.” Grace reassured him, “Wrecker was even right about the paperwork, although It'd have to do it because he can’t read well yet.”
“I’m working on it.” Wrecker said defensively.
“Who else is with you?” Hunter asked, “Surely you’ll have to ask them about me?”
“It’s just us two.” Grace said, “We got placed a couple days ago, so they’ll definitely let you join, since it’s kind of not good that there’s just us. We have extra bunks for you to choose from!”
“How did they let you do that?” Hunter asked, tapping his chin as he thought.
“I got a medic apprentice to help.” Wrecker said, “So, what’s your answer?”
“You know what?” Hunter grinned, the hallway lights making his eyes sparkle, “Sure.”
~<*>~
Wrecker and Grace were weird.
Not that Hunter was complaining. It was a good kind of weird that made him want to smile every time he thought about it.
They had accepted him, even when he was closed off to try to protect himself from more disappointment, or when he had to cover his ears to stop the sounds from melting his brain.
They listened to his leadership during simulations, which was a first, and they gave him interesting ideas that would actually work.
“Hunter, why do you think they made us?” Grace asked, plopping herself down on his bunk where he had been half-heartedly reading a regulation manual.
“No clue.” He answered, looking up at her. She had a thoughtful look on her face, like this was an actual problem.
“I only wonder because there’s no war to be fought that needs us to be soldiers in, but the kaminoans are making an army for a reason, so why would they make us?” She was tapping her chin, similar to Hunter when he was thinking.
A rush of fondness nearly brought tears to his eyes, but he blinked them away.
Grace sighed and pulled her knees to her chest.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, putting the reg manual aside and sitting up.
“Are you happy here?” She asked, looking at him with wide, sad eyes.
Hunter gave her a small smile, “Of course I am. You and Wrecker have done amazing at making this squad feel like home.”
Grace nodded, scooting closer so that she could flop across his legs.
“Why do you cover your ears and shiver really hard sometimes?” She asked, her voice quiet and almost hidden by Wrecker’s loud snores.
“Uh…” Hunter wasn’t sure how to answer that. He knew he'd have to address it with them soon, but now?
“Please, if it’s something we can help with, we want to help, and if it’s something that’ll get you hurt while we’re fighting, we need to know.” Grace said, looking up at him from her position on her back.
Hunter sighed and ran his fingers through her hair, untangling the snarls.
“Well, we’re defective, right?”
She nodded.
“My differences are more than just long hair.” He said, “My eyes and ears work differently too. I can see better, and hear better, and I’ve heard the kaminoans talking about electromagnetic frequencies. Whatever that means.”
Grace giggled and closed her eyes.
“Well, whatever it is, sometimes seeing and hearing and feeling gets too much and it hurts my head and makes my muscles all sore-”
Grace’s eyes shot open and she leapt off his bed, walking to her footlocker like she was on a mission.
“What-” Hunter said, startled by her sudden movement.
The cadet got to her feet after a couple long seconds of frantic digging, holding what looked like a huge blanket and aviation practice earmuffs.
She dumped them in Hunter’s lap.
“What is this?” He asked, picking up the earmuffs and feeling that they were much heavier than normal. The blanket was too.
“Those are sound-negating ear covers.” Grace grinned, “and the blanket is weighted. I made them a while back because I wanted to cancel out my old squadmates’ snores and all that. If hearing too much is a problem, that might help.”
“What’s the story behind the blanket?” Hunter asked, moving the stuff so that Grace could lay back down on his legs.
“I read somewhere that heavy things can help you feel less alone, so I made it.” Grace sighed, “it’s got thin sheets of rubber sewn between three layers of fabric. I was thinking that the rubber might be able to help with the electricity.”
Hunter wasn’t sure that’s exactly how it worked, and he also wasn’t sure where she had gotten the materials or the knowledge to sew this together.
Not that he was going to tell her any of that.
“Thank you.” He said quietly. Grace smiled up at him, patting his hand.
“Of course ori’vod, I don’t like that you’ve been in pain for a long time, and if I can change that I’ll try.” She said, closing her eyes again as she started to fall asleep again.
Hunter continued running a hand through her hair, his heart lighter and his eyes slightly wet from unshed tears.
He would die for her. Really, he would die for both Wrecker and Grace, his vod’ika, and he knew that they would do the same for him.
This was the kind of unity that he had been missing from his previous squads.
That unity was incredibly important, especially on the battlefield, but sometimes it felt like they simply couldn’t work together.
Like today, during a squad sim about a week after Hunter had joined the budding squad 99.
The mission parameters were to provide backup to a struggling group of ‘soldiers’, that were simply dummy droids painted a different color, who had been pinned down by a group of the normally unpainted dummy droids.
It wasn’t going well.
Maybe it was because they were being watched, or maybe they weren’t communicating the right way, but it wasn’t going well.
They were pinned down now too, and were nowhere near the group they were supposed to be helping.
And to make matters worse, Grace got hit by a stunner. It wasn’t fatal, or something that hadn’t happened before, but it wasn’t helping.
“Wecker!” Hunter shouted, catching the bigger cadet’s attention. Wrecker glanced over and saw Grace on the ground at Hunter’s feet and nodded.
He broke off his attack and scooped the smaller clone up and ran for cover, Hunter guarding his back as they moved.
They ducked behind a barrier further away from the main part of the firefight, but as they did the intercom above them crackled to life, making Hunter wince.
‘We request assistance, we’re about to be overrun! Are you enroute?’
“What do we do?” Wrecker cried, propping Grace up against the barrier and checking to make sure she hadn’t hit her head when she fell, “We have to complete the mission, but Grace is down and we can’t leave ‘er here!”
“I know.” Hunter frowned under his bucket, his mind racing as he leaned out to shoot at a couple straggling droids that had decided to come after them.
“I can only bust through some of ‘em, and that’s too much for ‘some’!” Wrecker said.
“I know Wrecker!” Hunter shouted, “Grace is the only one that can go unnoticed, but I think I can-”
“You gonna run ahead?” Wrecker asked, “How?”
“Well, we start by getting Grace to a safer spot.” Hunter looked around before spotting a kind of cave-like structure made from whatever metal the rest of the training ground was made from, “There.”
Wrecker nodded and they ran for it, stashing Grace under as she started to wake up, blinking slowly at them with a grimace on her face.
“Now what?” Wrecker asked, following Hunter as he started to run into the throngs of dummy droids that had taken notice of them.
“You run that way and I run into the squad to attempt to help them out while you get all the dummy droids’ attention.” Hunter panted.
Wecker nodded and they split, Hunter running through the gap he had spotted, stabbing droids here and there with the vibroblade he had stolen from the armory a month or so before, while Wrecker ran the opposite way, roaring and yelling every insult he knew at the droids.
Hunter’s plan seemed to be working, and he reached the painted dummy droids in minutes.
“This way, you have to retreat!” He said.
The intercom buzzed.
‘Mission parameters are to defeat the enemy entirely.’
Hunter grumbled.
“Alright then, we attack the back of that mob, let’s go!”
He turned on his heel and went the way Wrecker had, slashing at each droid that hadn’t been gunned down until there were none left.
Wrecker was rubbing his uncovered head as he leaned against the wall.
“Wrecker, what hurts?” Hunter asked, taking the taller cadet’s head in his and looking into his eyes.
“Got hit with a stunner, but I’m fine. Just a little headache.” Wrecker smiled sheepishly.
“Let’s go check on Grace.” Hunter sighed as the intercom sounded for the third time.
‘Mission success, please exit the training area. Return all weapons to the lockers before going to the next scheduled activity.’
They collected Grace, who was slightly wobbly on her feet but getting better every minute, and headed to the mess.
“Sorry for getting stunned.” Grace said as they got their food and went to sit at their table.
“It wasn’t your fault.” Hunter reassured her, “Things happen and we have to learn how to work with it.”
“I just hate getting stunned.” She sighed, picking at her soup as Wrecker snuck chunks of her bread, “I get huge headaches afterwards and it just sucks.”
“Imagine how Hunter feels.” Wrecker said wisely. Hunter felt his face get red as he remembered the embarrassingly feeble cry of pain he had let out when he had woken up from his most recent stunner with a raging headache.
“Yeah, you have it bad, my man,” Grace sighed, reaching out to pat Hunter’s hand, “We should wrap you in blankets.”
“We aren’t even supposed to have blankets.” Hunter laughed, rolling his eyes at her, “I don’t think the kaminoans would appreciate it.”
“Sucks for them then.” Grace huffed.
“Don’t let them hear you say that.” Wrecker said, poking Grace’s side as she took a big bite of soup, making her choke on it as she tried to stifle a squeak.
“Wrecker!” Hunter groaned as he pulled out the handkerchief he had stolen from a mandalorian handler he had passed in the halls once, “Don’t tickle her while she’s eating, we’ve been over this.”
“Sorry Hunter,” Wrecker said sheepishly as Grace coughed into the handkerchief, tears streaming down her face.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Grace said, her voice raspy as she waved Hunter away when he went to fuss over her, “Got away you worry wart, I’m fine.”
“I know you’re fine, I’m just making sure.” Hunter countered, grinning at her glaring face, “And it’s time to head back, we’re attracting too much attention.”
They fled the mess before the other cadet squads could target them, and it was a reason why Hunter didn’t like having any of his team eating alone.
But it couldn’t always be helped, especially when they each had their own training schedules that didn’t always match up.
Hunter sighed as he rubbed his eyes, slowly making his way through his tray as he read through leadership manuals and battle tactics on his datapad.
The past couple of weeks had been smooth, and he felt like he had finally settled in with Wrecker and Grace, who hadn't been able to take midday meals with him for the last couple of days.
Grace had been scheduled for individual undercover training with her handler that made Hunter’s hair stand on end, and wouldn't be done for hours yet.
Wrecker was in physical therapy for the cramps that he had been stoically bearing all week, and would most likely come back sore but more relaxed than he had been before.
So Hunter had to eat alone today, not that he was necessarily complaining. He needed peace and quiet to finally make it through this manual.
He would have done it in the barracks, but Grace had a scary talent at sniffing out whether or not Hunter ate that day or not and they didn’t have anything left in their stash.
By this rate, the mess hall would be close to closing when he finished, and he liked it like that.
“Will you shut the kark up?” The loud shout broke the quiet hubbub of the mostly empty mess, and Hunter almost dropped his datapad out of surprise.
There was a full squad a couple tables away, and Hunter could easily see a cadet angrily glaring at his squadmate across the table, the poor guy looking like he had been forced to swallow something sour.
He had large corrective lenses over his eyes, making them look bigger and sadder. Hunter wasn’t sure if he had ever seen a cadet with glasses like that before.
He sighed, wanting to ignore the squad, deciding that it was probably something he didn’t need to get involved in.
Not his squad, not his problem.
“Maybe if you actually listened to him, you’d be able to pass a sim without getting most of the squad stunned.” That voice was one of a cadet, but was kind of snake-like.
“Crosshair, let it be.” The clone that had originally gotten yelled at, muttered. Hunter only heard him because of his advanced senses.
“I will not ‘let it be’!” The snake-voiced cadet, whose name turned out to be Crosshair, yelled, slamming his fist into the table.
The mess hall completely cleared out, leaving Hunter and this loud squad alone.
Why wasn’t he leaving like a smart cadet? The doors were nearby and all he had to do was get up and leave.
“Crosshair-”
“I am sick of this! You’ve been abusing him since before I joined, you ignore him when he’s trying to help you, you don’t even help him when he gets stunned in sims,” Crosshair shouted, “He’s your brother but you don’t karking act like it!”
Hunter winced.
He knew how it felt, being pushed aside while instinctively knowing he was supposed to be doing more than following stupid orders of inexperienced cadets that didn’t even want to pick up a manual on tactics.
Not all of them were like that, but it seemed like all the ones Hunter ended up with certainly were.
He could still leave before anything worse than a couple angry words were thrown around, but he felt stuck in his seat, reliving every previous squad.
The arguing was getting louder.
“You’ve only been in this squad for a few cycles, what makes you think you know anything! You’re just a reject!”
“Yeah, CT-9903’s been with us for years and he hasn’t tattled on us about any of that!”
“He did not need me to say anything.” The clone with the glasses said, his voice ringing out over the other cadet’s voices, “Not everybody is as blind as the kaminoans.”
Silence fell and Hunter knew that silence of any kind was the most dangerous sound.
If he was going to step in, now was the time.
“Is there a problem here?” He asked, startling the group, who each looked around to find that they were alone now.
“What do you think?” That was the voice of the cadet that had shouted first.
“That may have been a rhetorical question, not that I care.” Hunter glared at the clone, who was just a little taller than him.
“We can defend ourselves.” Crosshair growled, and Hunter raised an eyebrow at the silver-haired cadet. He was tall and skinny, and he didn’t look like he could pack much of a punch.
Then again, Grace didn’t look like it either and her punches hurt.
“Yeah, this isn’t your squad, so it isn’t your problem.” The instigator hissed, “So beat it.”
Hunter did his best to look unimpressed, but the cadet was right. He didn’t have a right in stopping anything the squad did unless…
“Actually, my team is incomplete.” Hunter said with a bored look, “And since I noticed your unsanctioned behavior against these men, I think I’ll put in emergency reassignment requests.”
“You can’t do that.” The cadet scoffed, but Hunter could see a spark of fear in his eyes. No clone wanted to lose the familiarity of their brothers, even ones that they mistreated.
“Do you really believe that?” Hunter asked.
The cadet seemed to be wavering, trying to tell if Hunter was serious or not.
It was a tense standoff as the two of them glared at each other, ended by a kaminoan telling them that the mess hall was now closed and that they needed to leave.
The cadet that had stood against Hunter frowned and backed down, taking his squad, save for CT-9903 and Crosshair, and left.
“You have no obligation to us, thus no reason to provide us aid.” CT-9903 hummed, continuing to eat his food even though they really should be moving.
“I didn't feel like sitting back and letting them yell anymore. It was clear the team would have failed sooner or later anyway.” Hunter shrugged.
“You can’t be serious.” Crosshair hissed in disbelief, “That can’t be your reasoning, you can’t want us for your squad.”
Hunter understood why the cadet was so hostile, so unwilling to believe him. He had been like that before, but he also knew that Grace and Wrecker could break any mental barriers by simply being their unrelenting and incredibly kind selves.
“Well, I have two squamates, and each of us have some kind of defect, similar to you two,” Hunter smiled, much kinder than he had before, “So, I have reasons and I do want you.”
~<*>~
“I still don’t believe you.” Crosshair growled.
The statement was more than true. He had no reason to trust this short cadet, and he didn’t want to.
“I do.” Tech said, standing with his now empty tray, “I have read Squad 99’s files and I will take your offer.”
Crosshair turned to glare at him, but he couldn’t deny his twin a chance at an actual squad. One that would actually care for their well being.
“We have extra racks you could pick from,” The cadet said conversationally, grabbing his own tray to dump and motioning for them to follow him out of the mess hall.
“I am able to sleep anywhere.” Tech said in his normal monotone, “It is a requirement to have the ability to do so.”
“Did they make you sleep on the floor?” The cadet asked, wrinkling his nose angrily.
“Like he said,” Crosshair growled, “We can sleep anywhere.”
He didn’t want this kid digging into what he didn’t need to know.
“Well, now that you’ve made that requirement, you don’t have to worry about it anymore.” The clone sighed, “Besides, Grace would kill me if I even thought about it in the first place. She happens to strongly disagree with the things the kaminoans decide are ‘required’.”
“She?” Crosshair asked, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t know any cadets that were girls.
“Did you not know? This experimental unit consists of a female clone, and she is being trained for undercover operations.” Tech said, holding up his datapad somewhat triumphantly.
“Undercover? Like a spy?” Crosshair breathed, narrowing his eyes at Hunter. He believed this guy less and less.
All the spy trainees were jerks, way too good at lying and getting into other people’s business for his liking.
“More like sneaking into places to break things than to spy on people,” The cadet told Crosshair before turning to Tech, “And how do you know that?”
“Experiemental unit 99 has extensive files in the Kaminoan database, and they are very easy to find if you know where to look.” Tech shrugged, “And if you can break through a firewall or two.”
“Huh, really?” The cadet raised an eyebrow, looking amused.
“Affirmative.” Tech nodded, “Your files, CT-9901, are quite interesting. Are you adequately handling the adverse outcomes of your advanced senses?”
CT-9901 blinked at Tech and Crosshair subtly shifted to block an attack. He knew from experience that Tech had a habit of getting himself into trouble by saying things that poked at insecurities.
It was Crosshair’s job to keep Tech safe.
“I handle it… well? I guess?” CT-9901 shrugged, “and my name’s Hunter. Grace is FCT-9905, and my third squadmate is Wrecker, CT-9902. And you two are Crosshair and Tech?”
“Affirmative. My designation is CT-9903, but my name is Tech.” Tech said, bowing his head slightly.
Hunter looked at Crosshair expectantly.
“Yep. Crosshair, CT-9904.” He muttered, narrowing his eyes and biting his cheek.
“It’s nice to meet you, Crosshair, Tech.” Hunter stopped at a random door, pressing a button to open it, “Here we are.”
He stepped inside, and the two cadets followed.
Crosshair was… a little impressed with it.
It was different from the standard wall of pods that he was used to, with the racks open and cut into the walls of the space.
It was dark too, only lit by tiny yellow lights that didn’t hurt his eyes, which was a stark contrast to the bright white of the hall outside. It was warm too, a janky little space heater rattling in the corner.
Where they got that, he would love to know.
All in all, it was an odd barracks, but you could see the personalities of the cadets that lived here.
Out of the bunks in the room, only three looked like they were slept in.
Two of them were messy, and one of them was neatly made. All three had an alarming amount of contraband blankets, but considering the rest of the room, it was probably the smallest rule broken.
Hunter made his way to the neatly made bed, flopping down on it with a sigh.
“Welcome to the Squad 99 barracks.” Hunter smiled.
“Where are the other two?” Crosshair asked, still standing in the doorway, unwilling to step further into the room.
“Wrecker’s in PT and Grace is in individual skill work” Hunter sat up and sighed, “But they were supposed to be done ten minutes ago. At least, Wrecker was. I don't know when Grace gets done.”
There was a faint note of worry in Hunter’s voice, but it was well hidden.
“I could hack into the city’s camera array to find them.” Tech offered.
Hunter sighed and nodded.
Crosshair finally stepped into the room, letting the door shut behind him. In the few cycles he had been with his previous squad, he had only seen Tech offer his help once. It had not gone well for Tech.
“Do you have a port I could plug into?” Tech asked, pulling wires out of his toolbelt’s pockets and attaching them to his datapad.
“Yeah, by the door,” Hunter said, pointing to the panel next to the door, “I would raise them over comms, but we really aren’t supposed to have them.”
“And? You should make them carry them anyway.” Crosshair said, sitting on an unoccupied bunk and running a hand over the standard sheets while imagining finally being warm under the mountains of blankets these cadets seem to have.
“I don’t want them getting in trouble. Well, more trouble than normal,” Hunter sighed, “There’s only so much we can get away with before we could be slated for reconn.”
“We’re special cases, you shouldn’t have to worry about the rules,” Crosshair scoffed.
“We aren’t that special, Crosshair. The CCs are similar to us and I don’t doubt that you’ve heard the stories of what happened to a lot of them.” Hunter argued, throwing a slight glare at the silver-haired cadet.
“I have found your fellow squadmembers.” Tech spoke up, interrupting the argument to come.
Hunter went to his side and leaned over his shoulder, looking at the pad with a hand on Tech’s shoulder. Tech flinched slightly and Hunter quickly let go and leaned away a little.
“They are walking back at the moment.” Tech said, like nothing happened.
“How close are they?” Hunter asked.
“They’re right there.” Tech said, pointing to the door as it opened.
One of the cadet’s blooming laughs filled the room and Crosshair rolled his eyes, leaning back in his bunk to give himself space away from the sound. He caught the quick glance that Hunter gave him before going to confront the two cadets.
“What took you so long to get back?” Hunter demanded, crossing his arms and looking like the leader he was shaping up to be.
“We’re very sorry, ori’vod.” Grace said placatingly. Crosshair perked up a little at the mando’a word at the same time Hunter raised an eyebrow.
“We are, I swear.” Grace sounded more sincere this time, “Wrecker challenged me to a race in the gym and I couldn’t say no!”
“Who won?” Hunter asked, still frowning, but the sparkle in his eyes betrayed that he wasn’t angry, only relieved.
“Grace did.” Wrecker said, his face falling into a pout. Grace punched his arm and he grinned at her, “It was a fair win though. Unlike last time.”
“Hang on, why are there two more cadets here than normal?” Grace asked, holding up a hand, who looked like she was finally letting herself get a good look at Crosshair and Tech.
Crosshair knew she did notice them when she first walked in, but had cleverly disarmed Hunter before bringing attention to them.
“Wrecker, Grace, this is Tech and Crosshair.” Hunter smiled as Tech got to his feet. The bespectacled clone was shoving the wires back into his pockets.
“The newest members of Clone Force 99.”