#clone trooper torch

[matchademi]

(In a perfect world where the war ends and Palps chokes on his own spit and dies)

Falls: Commander Fox with zero respect stop stealing my kriffing child!

Fox:he is a Commander. I'm just taking him under my wing

Falls:You took him from my apartment WHEN I WAS STILL ASLEEP

Fox:I left a note

Fall:*loud suffering yell*

Buddy: Buir!! Commander Fox is teaching me how to interrogate people

Falls:*dead pan * I hate everyone

[matchademi]

I'm using Torch/Buddy separately since his personality does a full 180 when he turns 18

I also have 3 jedi ocs

Miwa: she is Plo Koons padawan and is very feral and is best friends with Anakin and is only a year younger than him she quickly was scooped up into the wolf pack and later the bad batch

Nessa:she is Miwa's padawan during the rebels era, not as feral but would absolutely beat Ezras ass just for fun

Icurus: he my sequel trilogy oc he is best friends with Poe he was a Jedi, but he decided to put down his saber after his master and buir died his Buir is in fact Torch. He is a MASSIVE flirt he also used to be a pilot until he got into a bad crash that nearly killed him

Ask Game for someone’s OC(s)

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

💼 - What do they do for a living?

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

🎯 -What do they do best?

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have?

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC?

[for-the-sake-of-color]

AAYYEE the 218th's Urban Crisis Response's very own Crisis Company as a revamped Draw the Squad!

after a year and a half worth of drawing practice, I like to think I've come a long ways, though my squad themselves have changed very little

Though if you're new here, perhaps some introductions are in order? Below the Cut

Captain Jet - Leader of the 218th's Crisis Company and Heartbeat of the Family

Captain Jet, formerly known as Corporal Jettison before he lost nearly the entirety of his Company during the first battle of Geonosis, only gained his rank due to the combination of a field promotion and a paper pusher rushing to get the 218th put back together with what forces they could get their hands on after their devastating first deployment, without vetting his Shiny New Promotion through the proper channels. Nevertheless, Captain Jet is dedicated to his soldiers, and to being the Kindest man he can be, not wanting any to suffer the burden of loss and shame he felt as everyone he ever grew up with died in the first week of the war.

Lieutenant Margo - Second in Command of Crisis Company and one of the Finest Technician's money can Make

The first Addition to the newly reformed Crisis Company, Margo left behind her own squad command to be the second to her Captain, Jet. Trusting in his judgement, Margo would follow him to hell and back, though for the first half of the war she largely follows him to a glorified guard posting for the republics embassy and shipping warehouses on Brentaal. She's a fine Leader and an even better Tech, though her specialties lay much closer to Mechanics than to Code-breaking. The only thing that tops her technical skills is her love of having a Fun Time. Body and Mind of a Super Soldier, personality of 'if a frat-boy was a girl'

Specialist Nihlus Brek - Ancient Sith Archivist and a loving Guardian of his squad with a Sadistic streak

After being shown selfless kindness by the Captains personal squad after the loss of his clan and his rough awakening from a forced stasis, with the 'permission' of the Jedi Council, Sith Lord Nihlus Brek now serves in the GAR under the command of Captain Jet, the only man who's orders he follows without hesitation or question, killing or healing as needed for the man he now calls 'Alor and Brother. Though it is true he holds love for his squad, the real secret of his unwavering loyalty is the Blood Oath he swore to Captain Jet, his orders now bound by sith alchemy, Nihlus has given his leader unwavering control over both their destinies.

Sergeant Cynic - Heavy Weapons Expert and Artist with an Attitude

Though an Urban Crisis Response unit doesn't particularly need a soldier who's second greatest passion in life is blowing things up with his rocket launcher, Cynic earn his place on the squad through the power of nepotism. That is, Margo's one condition for leaving her previous squad behind with little complaint, was that she got to bring her favorite brother with. Although his name may suggest otherwise, this pessimist (though he considers himself a 'realist') has a love for all things pretty and colorful, and quite the talent for copying it down in his small sketchbook, always making room for his small assortment of watercolors in his combat kit.

Corporal Lake - Spotter of the Squads Sharpshooter duo and self proclaimed Ethics Committee

Lake is likely the only one of the Captains squad that, once you get to know them, could be described as the republics ideal of a Good Soldier. That is, Lake is one of the few who spares even a second or third thought for the success of the mission and collateral casualties over the lives of his fellow squad mates. He is probably the only one who could say he would not give a thousand lives just to spare those he cares for. Nevertheless, although he has his own personal misgivings over the result of some of their missions, Lake is grateful for his life, for his family, and for the many chances he is given to fight another day. And, as always, his Captains word is Law.

Corporal Torch - Deadeye of the Squads Sharpshooter Duo and resident Troublemaker

"We're here for a fun time, not a long time!" Are common words for Torch to say before getting his ass beat for replacing Cynics fancy face lotion with space Nair or being put on 'Fresher duty for his ballsey yet comedic insubordination. Captain Jet often says the only thing that stops Torch from being demoted to maintenance duty altogether is his skill with a rifle, hitting targets your typical human would have needed the force to even perceive. Though in truth, Jet would not trade Torch's levity and loyalty for the galaxy itself. Torch and Lake are mirrors of one another, by choice, as it brings them great joy to be mistaken for one another by not only natural born humans, but also unfamiliar clones. As some of the last living soldiers from their original bloc of trained sharpshooting specialists, they refuse to be parted from one another, unable to bear the thought of losing the last of their batch.

Field Medic Heron - Resident Healer with a Big Secret

Heron tired of front line Medicine fairly quickly, as his zest for death did not hold up to losing his brothers one by one, upon joining the Urban Crisis Response Specialists of the 218th, his steadfast work and easy bedside manner landed him his place in the Captains squad rather easily, and he took rather well to glorified guard duty. That is, until the fateful day where an assassin droid hidden among their cargo took his leg, though in a feat of the butterfly effect, directly led to the squad meeting their Sith. His secret? On shore leave, Heron likes to kill people. In order to stay in line with both his own ideas of morality and his Captains idea's of ethics, not that Jet hears of his activities from the medic directly, he dresses in plainclothes and limps around, waiting for some unfortunate mugger to make their move. Heron craves the feeling of holding someone on the brink of life, having power over their fate, and then denying them the salvation they seek. And maybe sometimes he takes a bite or two, but that's his business.

Specialist Sprig - Explosive Ordinance Disposal Technician and Company Spymaster

Specialist Sprig, formerly of the 398th Ordinance Corps, got his name as a result of a growth tube malfunction in his infancy, leaving him 2 inches shorter than your average trooper. Despite this 'defect' as the Kaminoans would refer to it, Sprig would rank among the top of his batch with his skills in bomb diffusal, having a deft touch and a keen eye for detail. In a cruel and ironic twist of fate, Sprig's greatest fear is dying in an explosion, vaporization, desintigration, you name it. Reassignment to the 218th and his posting of glorified guard duty was a dream come true. Proton bombs vs backyard terrorists? Sprig knows exactly which he would take in an average day. With his keen eyes, sharp ears, and strong memory, Sprig also excels at information collection. His shorter stature and friendly demeanor is often very encouraging for those who have a burden they'd like to share, though one has to keep in mind, he has the ear of the Captain one short comm call away.

[qualified-trash-panda]

The Sole Survivor

Day 2 of 212th Appreciation Week

today's prompt is 'Adoption/Accidental Acquisition'

this one was an absolute no brainer for me, it had to involve Cody he is such a father figure to my OC (in my head he adopted her the day he saw her ratty ass he just didn't know it) and no one can convince me he isn't buir material.

description: sent to search out any survivors following the fall of Syrac Base, Commander Cody finds a tragedy in its wake.

length: 3k

warnings: mentions of gunshots, wounds, blood etc

“This is it.” Cody determined, switching off the scan and tucking the holodevice in a pouch at his belt, returning both hands to his blaster carbine.  “The fire never spread as far as command but scans are showing heat signatures.”

“Well then…” General Kenobi gestured for them to back up in the little room the tunnel allowed, the shuffle of boots kicking up tiny whisps of dust.

Cody ensured a line of troopers kept to the General’s back, blasters ready, as the Jedi extended his hands towards the blockage.  The arch of the tunnel had collapsed around the blast doors, blocking the control panel, and whilst the gunships worked to put out the worst parts of the fire and dislodge larger chunks of crumbled rock so they could salvage what little remained, they couldn’t fit the heavier machinery down the spiralling tunnels of the central base. 

The rocks shifted, a crumble of dust spilling from above, as General Kenobi concentrated.  Initial scans showed no life signs from above.  The base lay in complete ruin, fire ravaging what little remained, distorting any thermal scans they conducted, but the trooper they rescued insisted there’d be someone left alive.  Something in his voice convinced the General even when Cody began to doubt and he’d spent hours clearing through tunnel after tunnel, his exhaustion showing in tired lines on his bearded face, dark shadows popping out beneath his eyes and Cody knew if he pushed any harder he’d expend what little energy he had left.  If he didn’t stop soon, Cody would start to insist.  No one could survive this.

Chunks of rock scraped across the rugged, scorched ground as the General cleared the blast doors, the metal screeching and puffing a cloud of dust that distorted his vision, his visor applicator working double time to clear the scene ahead but it lay so thick in the air it did little good. 

Blasters clicked as his troopers advanced cautiously, approaching the darkness inside as if it were a rabid animal, a scattering of blinking lights twitching like beady eyes watching and Cody heard another pillar of dust pour from somewhere inside to scatter across the rocky ground but otherwise not a single sound could be heard.

Except… Cody frowned beneath his helmet, trying to listen harder, and picked out the shaky hitch of heavy breathing.  The pulse of a weak heartbeat picked up on his HUD. With a wave of his hand, Kenobi cleared the lingering dust and one by one flashlights switched on, illuminating the shadows within.

A single form stood out in the cascading light, torches focusing on the figure, hands tightening around blasters as they flashed across a pointed weapon.  “Wait.” General Kenobi whispered, grasping the nose of Cody’s blaster as he stepped past and the troopers stilled, his auburn head, covered in dust, nodded to the figure.  “Look closer.”

Cody did.  His gaze trailed up, picking out the discoloured boots, the frayed armour, the blaster pistol locked in their tight grip and the savage curl of their lip. 

No.  He sucked in a breath as he saw it and Kenobi released his weapon, the blaster falling to his side.  Not discoloured, just dusty.  The armour up their legs, Cody wore the exact same kind, but they were scratched, stained, barely recognizable in the din, the breastplate, the arm plating both gone.

“Lower your weapons.” Cody murmured and the troopers obliged, stepping back as Cody stepped forward. 

The strange clone tensed as he did, the single DC-17 in their hand shaking, trained on him, chest rising and falling in rapid shakes. 

“Easy, soldier.” Cody calmed, bending to settle his own blaster on the ground and lifted the helmet from his head, the dust immediately catching in his nose, the thick air pressing in on him but he left it beside the blaster, straightening.

He stayed put, subtly gesturing with one hand and his troopers tentatively backed up until they were back in the tunnel, even the General retreated, lingering only in the doorway, watching intently for sudden movements that might threaten his Commander.

“What’s your designation?” Cody asked, his voice low and steady, tilting his body minutely to get a better look at their features behind the blaster. 

Cody refrained from sucking in another breath.  Not a regular clone.  He gave her another look, keeping his features open, easy, as he scrutinized her.  No upper armour, her blacks shredded around the shoulders, her sides, revealing scrapes and bruises decorating tanned skin and a long line of red trickled down the side of her head from a deep gash that needed treating soon, her curled lip swollen, broken and she had a nasty black eye on top of it all, a tumble of knotted black hair half covering a scattering of scrapes on her cheek.

Another clone lay beneath her, her feet planted solidly over him, and Cody thought he might need help, his lips parting to offer it until his gaze found the clones unseeing eyes, the hole in his chest, and quickly shut them.  What the kriff had she gone through not to recognize her own men? For someone to survive carnage like this…

“My name is Cody, Commander of the 212th.” He gestured behind towards the Jedi and she tensed again, a rakish sob escaping the snarl.  “This is General Obi-Wan Kenobi, we’re here to extract you and the survivors.”

“There are no survivors.” It’s the first words she’d spoken and they came out torn and rattled. Clenching around Cody's heart.

Cody risked a glance over his shoulder at the General, finding the same flash of darkness cross his gaze that threatened to tug down Cody’s brows and the survivor’s arms trembled.

“What happened here, trooper?” General Kenobi asked calmly.

No. Cody knew she wouldn’t answer questions like that in this state, her jaw clenching, and the tremble in her arms grew, spreading to her shoulders.  How long had she been standing here?

“Easy, trooper.” Cody reached out towards her with a gentle hand, easing forwards.  “The fight is over.” He assured her, “You did your duty.”

A single crease smoothed her features, the white of her knuckles grasping the blaster relaxing and Cody took another step closer, keeping his voice as soft as he could.  “Look at me, trooper, I’m a clone just like you.” He placed a hand on his breastplate, drawing her frightened hazel gaze to him and not the troopers, not the General.  Just him.  “I’m not going to hurt you, vod’ika.”

Her features released the snarl and she stared at him with such fear it resonated deep in his stomach, stirring a crest of pain in his own heart, and he carefully settled his fingers atop hers on the blaster. 

“I’ve got you now.” He promised, inching closer, nudging the blaster down slowly.  “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

Her grip on the blaster loosened, Cody’s tightening, and he eased it from her fingers, placing tentative fingers on her tightly wound shoulders to distract her.  A pained, shaky breath slipped from her lips at the touch, draining whatever fight she had left in her and Cody saw the strength vanish from her gaze, the hazel brimming with pure, unadulterated fear now. 

Cody took the blaster and gestured with it to another trooper, feet shuffling in the dust to come and grab it whilst the Commander still clung to the trembling trooper. 

“That’s it.” Cody calmed and drew her from the body she stood over, keeping her concentration focused on him as the rest of his troopers slowly ventured into the command centre to retrieve what information they could. 

He trusted a brother to retrieve his helmet, his blaster, and instead focused on getting the trooper out of there and into a medic’s capable hands.  The General stuck close behind as they traversed the narrow tunnel, soon returning to the collapsed section and inching through one at a time, Cody in front to coax the survivor through and Kenobi behind with a gently raised hand.  She looked about ready to collapse, hair knotted at every angle, the blood spilling down the side of her face and sunken sockets distorting the nasty bruise around her eye, a paleness to her supposedly tanned skin.

“Cody.” Kenobi whispered almost imperceptibly as they came out the other side, his usually piercing gaze shadowed and nodding to the survivors back.

He stole a glance as his hands found her shoulders, easing her onwards again, and eyes widened when he spotted what the General saw. 

A dozen nasty, untended and angry red gashes littered her back, tearing up her blacks, some of them older, some oozing a trickle of blood down the tanned skin, and parts of her shirt looked darker than others in the bright floodlights.

“You actually found one?” The first medic he found gawked, mouth snapping shut when Cody hissed out a low shush, snapping the troopers name, the three of them appearing in the meagre staging area they scraped out in the rubble.

He settled the survivor atop a jagged chunk of rock as gently as he could, Chance’s steady hands helping, and he unhooked the pack from his shoulders, setting it beside him and flipped it open.  Then he saw her back

“She’s in bad shape.” Cody knelt beside her, the brash floodlights better illuminating the hundreds of scrapes covering her body and Cody nodded the medic to the gashes lining her back.

“I don’t dare touch those without a sterile environment.” Chance assessed, unable to keep the anger clouding his gaze.  “We need to get her aboard the Negotiator.”

“Do it.” Cody instructed, more forcefully than he intended, and straightened to help lift her to her feet.

“Commander.” A blunt voice stopped him, the survivor clutched between him and Chance, waiting as Cody twisted to find Boil standing rigidly.  “There’s something you should see.”

A single glance at her frightened gaze, the way her eyes followed him, told him to stay and Chance lingered, waiting for his decision.  “Gearshift!” Cody called out and a stiff trooper rushed to him, thankfully returning his helmet.  The trooper took over for him and they set her back on the rock.  “I won’t be long.”

“Yes, sir.” Gearshift responded, standing close by her side without needing to be asked.

Cody followed Boil through the little space they’d cleared in the base, forced to climb over a jagged chunk of rock embedded in the stairwell just to reach what should be the sprawling central courtyard.  Bits of machinery, shards of crushed speeder bikes and heavy artillery littered the ground, Cody spotted a blaster here and there and a worrying smell lingered in the thick air.  Cody settled his helmet back on, his filters blocking it out.  He’d been on Jabiim during the massacre, he knew what that smell meant, and his stomach dropped. 

The gunships hadn’t cleared much of the courtyard, but enough to know.  As they’d been working towards the command, towards the last heat signature worth exploring, his troopers had been down here pulling body after body from the wreck.  A line of them lay flat on the outskirts, dried blood staining misshapen cracks in their armour from being buried beneath the rubble, but they all carried one distinctive mark and Cody closed his eyes. 

A single blaster shot to the head.  Execution style. 

“Maker, what happened here?” Cody whispered under his breath, unconsciously counting the bodies they pulled out from the little space cleared and doing the math in his head, swallowing once he came to an answer and his jaw clenched.

“We found a Trandoshan amongst the rubble.” Boil reported and Cody followed his pointed finger to the limp reptile in a shadowed corner.

A Trandoshan? Cody frowned beneath the helmet, the addition only adding to the confusion in his mind.  “Tell the boys to find out what they can from the command centre.” Cody instructed, having left a squad of troopers up there.  “And Boil,” Cody grasped the trooper’s arm as he twisted.  “Make sure the data is transferred to my channels alone.”

Cody knew he’d find nothing good there, releasing Boil, and didn’t need the answers splayed across the holonet for all the GAR to see.  What they found already was bad enough. 

“I shall have to inform the Council we’ve lost Syrac.” General Kenobi said gravely, and Cody twisted, he hadn’t notice the General follow him down. Missing his brown robe.

“I thought the Separatists were routed from the system?” They couldn’t find a single trace of the droid army other than the occasional metal carcass.

“Whilst that is true, I would hardly call this a victory.” Kenobi’s gaze darkened, his usually piercing eyes hooded and fixed on the fallen.  “Tell the men to stop their search.”

Cody’s gut clenched, glancing back at the troopers, a pair of them pulling another body from the wreckage, the implication clear.  They’d find nothing more here.  He knew better than to argue with a Jedi’s instincts but he still wanted to, a needle of hope worming into his heart after finding her. 

“We have orders to reinforce General Skywalker on Christophsis.” General Kenobi added, sensing his Commanders hesitation.  “We cannot delay any longer.”

“Understood, sir.” Cody shifted his feet, standing rigidly to attention, and began relaying orders to the men through his comms. 

They returned to the staging area as the ships clearing the rubble safely discarded their pieces, pulling back, the equipment packed up, bathing the mystery in darkness once again, and a record made of the fallen brothers they did find, including the one in command.  Cody counted a secret tally in his mind for every trooper left unfound, buried beneath the rubble, consumed by the fire or worse.  An entire battalion’s worth wiped out and he stepped aboard a gunship with the sole survivor. 

One of the deadliest battlegrounds of the war so far came to an end after weeks of struggle and he didn’t even know how.  Just a lone survivor left to tell the story, if she even could. 

“Sir?” A light voice perked beside him as the blast doors locked shut, the gunship entering the upper atmosphere and rocked from the turbulence. 

“What is it, Waxer?”

“A female clone?”

His head tilted, regarding the clone through his helmet, studying the long stripe of orange painted down the centre, imagining the confusion crossing his square features underneath.

“I know.” Another question to add to his growing pile.

Cody glanced back at the trooper, her hazel eyes hollowing, Kenobi's dusty brown robe settled around her shoulders, and sympathy spiked in his chest.  He knew that look all too well, the thoughts that must be racing behind her eyes.

The gunship landed smoothly in the hangar and Cody guided the survivor down, her feet moving but his hand hovered around her, eyes watching just as carefully as Chance’s and the medic kept muttering to himself that she should be on a stretcher.

A shout echoed over to them across the hangar and another shiny came stumbling over on a crutch, his armour coated in the same dust as the survivors, and Cody recognized him.  The trooper they picked up on the ridge, the one who sent the transmission.  Ricochet?

“You’re alive.” He shook out his relief, dropping his crutch, the medic trailing after him muttering some apology about how he refused help until he knew his squad was safe.  “I saw the base go up, I saw it all, and I didn’t believe…” He grasped her shoulders, shaking her, and Cody wanted to gently push him away, worried she’d crumble under his grip.  “Where is everyone?”

Ricochet peered deep into her face, even as her head dipped down to the floor, chin almost to her chest to avoid looking at him and the confusion spilled into his open features. 

“Ninety-Four?” Ricochet pressed, his voice shaking now.  “Ninety-Four, where are they?” He shook her again, lightly, the reaction of a man who slowly began to realize, and it was only when he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him that Cody stepped in.  “Where are they?!”

“That’s enough, trooper.” Cody insisted gently, with an edge of authority, and settled a hand on Ricochet’s arm.

“Not until she answers me.” Ricochet snapped but his hand dropped from her chin, taking her shoulder rougher than before.

“I think you know.” Cody tightened his grip on Ricochet. A silent warning.

The fragile control in Ricochet’s features snapped and his arms fell from Ninety-Four’s shoulders, his gaze darkening and his lip curled. 

“They’re all dead.” He glowered and Cody tensed at the rage in his voice.  “Our entire squad, they’re dead.” His fingers formed fists at his side.  “Because of you.”

Cody glowered at the accusation, about to let his authority as Commander outweigh the kindness in his voice when Gearshift stepped up, looming over Ricochet. His extra bulk outweighing the fact they were the same height.

“Jax was right about you.” Ricochet spat, undeterred by the silent threat growing in Gearshift’s gaze, the trickle of 212th who overheard wordlessly coming to stand behind her.  “You’re just a mistake, and you got them killed.”

“Watch your tone, brother.” Someone spat and Cody picked out the curving branches atop Cale’s helmet, his fists knotted at his side.

Only then did Ricochet spot them, the growing tide mounting behind Ninety-Four, and he shot her one last scathing look before storming off, wobbling on his injured leg and his medic retrieved the crutch, forcing it into his hands, making him walk with just the stick for support.

“Whatever happened down there is not your fault.” Cody told her quietly, assertively, stepping around to face her, watching the General retreat towards the bridge when he should be getting rest himself.  “I do not want you blaming yourself for this, that is an order, Ninety-Four.”

“Sennari.”

Cody’s gaze snapped to her, thinking he’d misheard, but Chance looked more shocked than he did, her voice spilling out strong and chillingly confident.  

“What was that, trooper?”

She repeated it again, somehow stronger, and a deathly familiar look haunted her hollow hazel eyes as she lifted them. 

“My name is Sennari.”

Sennari. Cody mulled over the word, sharing a look with Chance and the medic mouthed a frowning question. As in the poison? Cody took in the shaking clench of her dirty fist, the skin torn, nails hoarding dirt, and the feral look in her eye. He remembered the Trandoshan, his sickly greying skin. Exactly like the poison.

The Commander didn't even need to think twice. "Alright, Sennari." He clenched his hands behind his backs, her searching eyes finding his through his helmet, locking in his gaze.

"Welcome to the 212th Attack Battalion."

vod'ika = little sibling (in this context little brother) dividers by @saradika For @212thappreciation Week Day 2 Prompt: Adoption/Accidental Acquisition

[wantonlywindswept]

10/10 fox day: forgotten fox bit

to celebrate fox day you get more of the next section of the forgotten fox au, which contains...zero fox actually present x_X

i am trying okay

---

Bucket, for the crimes of having an excellent sabacc face and a hip that seized up when moving any faster than a light jog, was often stuck manning the Guard HQ front desk.

They didn't get too many natborns coming through these days, at least, now that the CSF were forced to do their own jobs and had taken over guarding the prison. The Guard was back to being a protective, high-level military force instead of doing all the domestic policing and drudgework they'd been relegated to. They were still beholden to the Senate, but things had gotten better since Palpatine died and Organa took office, even if some of the Dome's denizens still saw them as little better than droids.

So Bucket didn't have to deal with that at least--he could, he got his name from being able to fit his demeanor to whatever the situation needed it, swapping faces like you could swap a helmet--but he did still have to deal with the regular comers and goers. Thankfully, that was mostly clones, plus the new addition of the pack of Jedi healers that descended on medbay once a week.

Interesting bunch, the Jedi. A lot more personable than Bucket had thought they would be. Surprisingly calm up until you admitted to using a soldering torch to close an acute laceration. 

(It wasn't even a recent injury--it happened so long ago that it was already healed. But now Master Nema gave Bucket the stink eye whenever she saw him, like she was trying to determine how medically stupid he'd been in her absence.)

"--figure what they were going on about?"

Bucket snapped to attention as the exterior doors slid open, a placid expression settling across his features. He turned toward the voice--only to relax when he caught sight of the visitors.

"Just something about another shift in the Force," Marshal Commander Cody said, offering Captain Rex a shrug. "It's not as bad as when Palpatine died; nobody passed out this time, at least."

"Small mercies," Commander Gree observed, bringing up the rear behind them. He had four takeout containers cradled in one arm, and by the smell they were from the offensively good noodle cart that parked near the base of the Rotunda. Bucket took a deep, envious breath and decided he was definitely going there for latemeal.

This particular group of GAR troopers--along with Commanders Bly and Wolffe--were a familiar enough sight at Guard HQ. They didn't visit often, almost eternally deployed to the front lines, but whenever their leaves lined up they usually made an appearance. Bucket had never seen all five together at once, but maybe that would change now that the war was over and battalions were being called back to Coruscant.

"Commanders, Captain," he greeted, standing up behind the counter to salute. His second for the day, Kelari, hastily copied the action. 

Cody waved the formality away with the sign for 'at ease', nodding at the two of them in turn.

"Sergeant Bucket," he greeted. "And I don't think I know..?"

"Private Kelari, sir!" Kelari chirped. She was still painfully shiny, wide-eyed and awestruck as she stared up at the Marshal Commander, and Bucket allowed the gaping with fond indulgence. 

She was one of their most recent acquisitions, part of a squadron that arrived after the death of the Chancellor. The group didn't have any direct experience with the war or the suffering that came with it, and the entire Guard were doing their damndest to make sure they never would.

"Private Kelari," Cody acknowledged, one side of his mouth ticking up. "Good to meet you."

Kelari beamed; Bucket shooed her away so he could get back in front of the security screens. 

"The Jedi up to shenanigans again?" he asked as he pulled up the admittance forms. 

Rex sighed, heavily, and Cody shot him an amused look.

"Let's just say," Gree said, "That it will be nice to avoid more half-coherent explanations on how the Force works in the future."

Bucket snorted, starting to fill out the usual info. The Guard never got a Jedi--and with the reveal of Palpatine being a Sith, they now knew why--but he had to admit he was glad they never needed to deal with the often-inexplicable Jedi tendency to rely so much on some invisible cosmic power.

"Captain CT-7567," he recited idly as his fingers flicked across the keys, "Commander CC-2224, and Commander CC-1004, here to see Commander--"

Bucket blinked at the 'reason for visit' box. 

This batch of clones had been visiting the entire war, either by themselves or together, whenever their rare leave allowed. They came often enough that if Bucket wasn't the one that would suffer the datawork hassle later, he would have just waved them on through. 

He was familiar enough with them to know that Cody's infamous scar came from a sparring accident, that Gree had three half-finished xenobiology research papers that he hoped to someday publish, and that Rex had been forcibly adopted by the CC clones without being allowed any input in the matter. He knew that Wolffe had three implanted teeth from multiple attempts at biting trainers through their armor as a cadet, and that Bly sometimes mixed up his letters and numbers and had almost been decommissioned as a result.

And Bucket had no idea what to put in the box.

He slowly lifted his gaze from the half-finished form to meet Cody's eyes. 

Missing memories weren't that uncommon, in the Guard, but as Bucket watched confusion steal across Cody's face--as that confusion shifted into rising unease and panicked alarm--he didn't think it was just a Guard problem, anymore.

[matchademi]

People interacting with my ocs makes me SO happy so please do it

just so you know if you ever want our ocs to be friends they totally can be. there’s nothing I love to imagine more.

[skellymom]

"Silent But Deadly"

The FIRST Bad Batch Comedy One Shot in the ONE SHIT SERIES!

Background: A stinky stench "rustles up" controversy.

Word Count: 780 words

Warning: Farts, fiery crop dusting, stinky humor, swearing.

The Bad Batch landed on Anaxis at the meeting point with the 212th for a special mission. Hunter led the way and greeted Commander Cody who introduced them to Rex. 

Cody’s clone troopers loaded onto their flying transport first with The Batch filing in after them. The door slid closed as the ship ascended on its journey to Skako Minor. All was quiet as each soldier stared ahead, contemplating the scope of this mission...until... 

...Hunter suddenly started with a coughing fit. 

“You ok, Sergeant?” Cody concerned, watched Hunter thump his chest with a closed fist, struggling to articulate his issue. 

“Uh...cough...be...ok...” 

Then the ruckus began. Cody and Rex watched as each Reg in the 212th violently protested one by one. Falling out of formation like a line of dominoes. 

“WHAT THE KRIFF!?” 

“Smells like a Rancor crapped in here!” 

“What died???” 

“I’m gonna die!” 

“Who shit themselves???” 

One trooper even tried to put his helmet on to avoid the fumes...to find the horrendous smell was trapped in with him, “GAAAAH!” 

It wafted up to Cody and Rex who grimaced and gagged. 

Every Reg in the 212th angrily glared back at The Batch. 

Hunter, ever the gentleman and a leader, tried to take the blame. “Uh, sorry Lads...huh, gag...too many rations for...gag...breakfast.” He exhaled, fanning himself. 

An angry Reg spoke up, “NO! I think it was the big guy!!! No way Sergeant Super Smeller did that!!!” 

Everyone stared at Wrecker. 

“WHAAAT???” Wrecker clearly had NO clue what was going on...as his sense of smell was deader than a Drydak. 

Another Reg threw in his guess. “Yeah! The other two look like their asses are so tight you’d hear a SQUEAK!!!” 

Tech’s head shot up from his data pad and gazed over alarmed at the Reg who was speaking with authority about HIS anatomy. 

“ENOUGH!!!” Cody bellowed. Everyone immediately straightened up to full attention. “Corporal, open the bay door and air it out!” 

Rex, speechless, put his hand over his nose. 

Tech quietly glanced at Crosshair. There was a satisfied look on Cross’ face with just a hint of a grin. Cross gave Tech the side eye. Tech glared back at Crosshair with his best dignified, “YOU ASSHOLE” expression. Cross just chewed on his toothpick. He was clearly VERY pleased with himself. 

Hunter leaned into Crosshair and whispered. “Do it again and I’m personally throwing your ass off this ship.” 

“Mhm...Almost worth it.” He snarked back arrogantly. 

Even though quiet and still standing at attention, it was clear the 212th Regs were fuming during the rest of the ride to Skako Minor. 

Finally landing sometime later, the men filed out of the ship with several of the Regs body checking Wrecker as they walked past. 

“HEY!” Wrecker protested. 

“Get out of my way you STINKY BEAST!” 

“YEAH, were you trying to gas us out back there!!!” 

“THAT’S IT! Tech, gimme your repair torch!!!” Wrecker had enough of this BS. 

Tech protested “I don’t see how that’s relevant to this situation...” 

Wrecker yanked the torch off Tech’s utility belt and turned towards the two Regs. 

“For the record...I’M NOT QUIET!” His voice rising.  

“What are you going on about STINKY???” The Reg stood his ground sneering. 

Wrecker wasn’t going to let this go. “You know what I like to do???” 

Both Regs stood there looking at Wrecker, then glanced at each other, then back at Wrecker and just shrugged. 

“I LIKE TO BLOW THINGS UP!!!” Wrecker shouted. With that he turned around, bent over, engaged the torch and squeezed out a LOUD fart that sounded like a TUBA BLAST. It ignited like a flame thrower, shooting out a jet of fire from his bum. The blast rolled over both Regs where they stood. Two high pitched Wilhelm screams were heard as both Regs took off running...their heads smoldering. 

Wrecker laughed like a maniac...and handed the torch back to Tech. 

Tech embarrassedly cleared his throat. “Uh...I assume those soldiers will need medical assistance...” 

Rex turned to Cody mortified. “THESE are the guys that are supposed to help us find ECHO???” 

“Yep...” Cody deadpanned. 

***************************************** 

Later, after Kix had medically treated the Regs, Cody marched them over to Wrecker to apologize. Both men were noticeably missing two things: Dignity and their eyebrows. 

Wrecker couldn’t help himself. “Whattsamatter? You BOTH look so...SURPRISED!” 

The rest of the 212th erupted in hysterical laughter. From then on NOBODY picked on Wrecker and he was the regiment favorite. 

Crosshair sat nearby on a boulder watching all the action go down. 

Hunter strolled up to Crosshair and kicked his boot. “You know this is all your fault, right?” 

Cross pulled out a fresh toothpick, inserting it into his mouth. 

“Hmmm...and enjoying EVERY minute of it.” 

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

IF YOU WISH TO BE ADDED OR DROPPED FROM MY TAG LIST, PLEASE MESSAGE ME! Don't just comment as I might miss it. Thanks!!! <3

To read #2 in this series:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/740278235151106049/bombs-away?source=share

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug on 'Tribe'

When not turning his home into a giant light hazard for Jesus's Birthday or getting into yelling fights in the alley with Bobby Lee (another redneck neighbor who is a DIE HARD 'Bama fan) about SEC football, Doug's been randomly texting me things about the Jedi.

I'll update y'all on that soon enough. (Plo Koon = Sexy Shrimp Daddy?!)

Meanwhile, here is his review of his favorite episode of Season 2 of The Bad Batch...TRIBE, or as Doug calls it 'Chewbacca Junior and the Weed Business'.

Yes, a random fetch quest one in which Clone Force 99 helps out a random Wookiee kid. His favorite. Don't ask.

Need a Doug refresher? Check it out under Doug Talks Star Wars here.

TW: Doug Doug's as is his Doug-like wont. Hold onto your butts. A little calmer since Daddy Warcrimes is MIA in this one.

-----------------------------------------------------------

So we got Daddy Rambo and the gang making counterfeit licenses for underage drinkers or whatever. You gotta do what you gotta do, I guess, and Daddy Rambo will do a lot of things, but obtaining gainful employment ain’t one of them. 

Ryan-from-Accounting is smug as hell about his counterfeiting operation. You’re so smart, Ryan-from-Accounting, why don’t you go to law school and start practicing corporate licensing? At least you can get equity there, ya dingaling.

And Little Orphan Blondie runs away because she’s embarrassed to be seen around them. I get it, kid.

Woah, it’s Chewbacca Junior! Are the lizard and robot people trying to sell him to the circus or something? Oh, he’s a Jedi?! When did this happen, this is awesome! I loved Chewbacca! I love Wookiees! AWESOME!!!

And Little Orphan Blondie is protecting him, go Little Orphan Blondie, go! 

I hope they adopt Chewbacca Junior and get him a collar and a nice bed on the floor of the HMS Search Warrant. They need a pet. Little Orphan Blondie can brush him and put bows in his hair! Do you think he uses a litter box?

They’re taking him home, and look! Little Orphan Blondie is giving him her Lunchables. I’m proud of the Dad Batch, they’re teaching Little Orphan Blondie good morals. Oh, poor wee Chewbacca Junior, he has no family and when he talks it sounds like Jimmers when he’s treed a squirrel*.

But Ryan-from-Accounting can understand him! Ya know, I wonder if his helmet can translate Bitch and that’s how Ryan-from-Accounting talks to his Bitch Wife Laura. 

It would be awesome if they adopt Chewbacca Junior and he attacks people with his lightsaber. He’s like a pet version of an MR-15! Imagine the DAMAGE his furry ass would do on the battlefield! 

Ooh, they made it to Wookieeland! Ya know, it always reminded me of where Jenny and I used to camp in northern California. I wonder if there’s a brewery nearby? I bet Toaster Strudel needs to throw back, that man needs a beer and a restraining order from Daddy Rambo. 

Oh SHIT, looks like the bugs from Klendathu made their way down to Wookieeland. Somebody call the Starship Troopers! Oh, wait, they can talk to those things like Dougie Houser did? Woah. Neat. 

Looks like the Empire found the Wookiee weed farm and torched it. Poor Wookiees, they’re just trying to make an honest living growing herb. Leave ‘em alone!

Which planet makes meth, my money’s on Tatooine, it looks like New Mexico and that place is meth Disneyland, there was a whole TV show about it. 

(Above is...Tatooine?! - Dr Meat Muffin)

Oh man it’s Houma-BBQ-Bitch’s shitty brothers and they’re burning the whole weed operation to the ground. Guess they work for the DEA.

Kick their asses, Wookiees! Now they want Chewbacca Junior, but the Dad Batch is saying FUCK YOU! 

Go Dad Batch go! Fire ‘em up! Destroy the tanks! GO JULIO GO! It’s like Apocalypse Now with Bigfoot!

More Wookiees! And they’re riding giant monkey-cats! AWESOME. Man, I feel stoned just watching this episode. Why can't I stop giggling.

Granny Wookiee says come on in and have some weed! Oh, shit, are they doing ayahuasca? Toaster Strudel ain’t having it, but Julio’s down. Julio’s down for anything, he’s probably gonna stick around, use his pipe laying skills, and get some free ganga out of the deal. Man, we all need a Julio in our life. Love him. 

Oh, poor Chewbacca Junior can’t find a home. Come on, Granny Wookiee, just let him crash with you guys! He can clip weed on the side, he’s got that lightsaber, let ‘em have it. But first, let’s talk to the trees! Did they take mushrooms before this scene, Jesus Christ this really does take place in Humboldt County, doesn’t it.

Ah, nevermind, the gators that run the DEA are here. With Stormtroopers. Oh shit, are the gators wearing Wookiee pelts while fighting Wookiees? That’s some Silence of the Lambs shit right there.

Welp, time for fire fights, Smokey the Bear does not approve of this episode, especially as one of the lizard men chases Chewbacca Junior and Little Orphan Blondie into the woods with a flamethrower. 

Oh shit, there are the bugs! Shit, am I actually cheering on the bugs from Starship Troopers? What is going on here, I’m so confused. Whelp, they’re eating Houma-BBQ-Bitch’s brother, good for them.

Back to Granny Wookiee’s Pot Palace, where Toaster Strudel and Julio throw back her questionable moonshine and smile at each other. If they end up with Wookiee girlfriends, it will be weird, but I will be happy for them. 

And Little Orphan Blondie and Chewbacca Junior are talking to the trees, again. Just watching this episode makes me wanna go back to Electric Forest. Except I don’t think Oceana County has wookiees, but it does have crazy people in the woods I guess. 

*=Jimmers is Doug’s extremely handsome poodle mix dog. His full name is Jimmers Jimothy Jimerson III and they found him as a stray when he was eating trash behind a bowling alley in Nacogdoches. 

Where my Doug fans at? @amalthiaph @eyecandyeoz @merkitty49 @sued134 are the biggest, but let me know if ya wanna be tagged in the next installment!

[w31rd0-art1st]

Some lil skits based off my clone troopers live au

Dogma, walking into the medbay: hey Haze- FIVES?! TUP?!

Fives & Tup in unison: DOGMA?!?

Haze: oh nice. You all know each other.

Haze stabbing dogma in the side of the next with a tranquilizer:

Tup: what the hell?!

Haze, while dragging an unconscious Dogma away: we need to remove the inhibitor chips from everyone.

Tup: ..okay..?

Ghost seeing Dogma for the first time: great, an entire shuttle full of clones to add to our legion.

Ghost, really looking at Dogma: oh wait- it's traumatized.

Rando trooper: oh yeah, he shot general Krell.

Ghost: ah, alright. Let's get you in therapy then I'll award you jaig eyes.

Dogma: insert confused noises

Ghost, hosting Dogma up like a sad kitten: Hey Vin! I got a new patent for you!

Vin: oh great. another.

Crow: honestly, now that I think about it we have 4 troopers in our legion that have been blown up, and survived

Thorn: how did I not notice that?

Thorn: I mean, having even one is surprising. But four

Crow: there's our good ol commander, Hevy, Echo, and Hardcase.

Echo:

Fix:

Echo: why's he staring at me like that..?

Hevy: oh he just wants to give you updates on your cybernetics

Hardcase: I suggest you let him do it! He put this torch thing in my cybernetic arm!

Echo: wait what?

Hevy: yeah, he offered me the same thing but I turned it down.

Echo: HARDCASE DO YOU HAVE A TORCH IN YOUR HAND?!

Ghost: okay, so. Because I'm the commander of this legion we're going to have to find a different position for you.

Thorn: couldn't we just be co-commanders?

Ghost: no.

Thorn:..

Ghost: so I was thinking I could reassign you-

Thorn: so you're demoting me.

Ghost: I'm going to reassign you-

Thorn: you're demoting me.

Ghost: I'm REASSIGNING you

Tup: so Dogma!

Dogma, not looking up from his Datapad: what is it this time.

Tup: what..?

Dogma, still not looking up: what new tattoo or piercing did you get this time?

Tup: how do you know I didn't dye my hair?

Dogma: you cherish your hair too much and sobbed when you found out it was cut to remove your inhibitor chip.

Tup: THAT'S DIFFERENT

(Btw this is Tup's current look)

Lemme know if you want more :P

[matchademi]

I'm not mutual but you absolutely ask me about the babs

Mutuals with clone OCs, can I drop in your asks and ask random questions about them? I want to know all about them bc omg clones :'D

[matchademi]

My clone Cadet oc Buddy/Torch

• He was forced out of his growth chamber a month before he was supposed to, so he is like 9 when Falls finds him

• Falls finds him on Kamino with the Bad Batch. Falls got the both of them out safe

• Buddy as Falls has been calling the cadet tried to bite him several times. Falls is so proud

• Since he is younger then Omega she definitely taken him under her wing

• After Rex meets Buddy he gives Falls a look like 'I blame Cody for this" and Falls just grins putting the kid onto his shoulders

• When Falls and Buddy separated from the Bad Batch Falls went on a hunt for armor that he can give the kid when he is older

• 5 years later Buddy gets gifted his first piece of armor. No he didn't cry (yes he did) and Falls cried like a damn baby

• Buddy has no visible mutations but he does have ADHD

• Buddy dyed his hair red at 15 after learning about Commander Thorn, Falls was fine with it since he had quite a few Corrie Guard friends. Rex always gives a sad almost bitter smile when he sees Buddy after that

• At 16 Buddy got the name Torch after using a torch to set a explosion that saved Falls life

• Torch secretly calls Falls Buir

• Torch has a burn scar all over the left side of his body after using his body to protect a kid while visiting Lathol (hint hint)

• At 20 got his armor he decorated with a mix of blue, red and orange flames

• He met Cody once and smacked him for letting uncle Rex worry for years before letting him explain why

• He has a tear drop peircing in his right ear

• At 24 he met the little kid he saved all those years ago and found out he is a Jedi

• He fought side by side with Ezra many times

• He begged Sabine to explain how she makes her explosive paint

• Torch has a flower painted on his vambrace In blue in memory of his Buir

• He married someone after the fall of the empire and adopted his own kid

Basic run down of his life PLEASE ask me more about him and Falls

[harmless--dreamer]

I should draw my clone squad OCs that I have along with their Jedi General. Don't get attached because all bar one are dead.

ALSO I KNOW ONE IS UNFORTUNATELY ACCIDENTALLY A CANON NAME I STOLE. I tried to Google as many of them as possible but I gave up because being a teacher is tiring as hell. Also there's like 6.2 million clones so chances are a couple of names got repeated.

The squad itself is split into a few different batches. The first set of batch brothers are Seven, Stims, Static, Base and Glint. Click joined separately after his initial batch died. The second batch of brothers were Storm, Rogue, Torch. Their other batchmates were reassigned after their first few postings. They're a small team, just them and their Jedi (then later, also, their Padawan), so no big ship or thousands of troopers- just a smaller elite squad.

Here's the squad anyway:

Commander: Seven

Sev is firm but fair. He was in a relationship with their Jedi prior to his death. It was well known amongst their squad but not outside of it. They all kept the secret. Seven is a good soldier and a better leader. He cares deeply for all of his brothers. He was the clear leader out of his batchmates and was always fascinated by the Jedi. His fascination led to a desire to work harder to be at their side.

He got close to their Jedi over time, nights spent doing paperwork or days in the med bay together. Eventually his squad realised he was into him and started teasing him, which led to their Jedi finding out. They took some time navigating the power dynamics, but eventually settled. Seven was a father figure to their Padawan and tried to keep her out of trouble, especially trouble the vode tried to drag her into. Seven had many a grey hair from his brothers antics- both him and Stims were going grey and they commiserated together. Stims would often complain that he had it worse, since he also had to deal with Seven and their Jedi being insufferable lovebirds.

Sev dies protecting his squad, his Jedi and his padawan. Not that he succeeds, because his squad (bar two and the jedi padawan pair) all die.

Medic: Stims

Stims is harsh and blunt. He takes no shit and has no time for it. He is kind, deep down, but he hides behind his outward persona of Tired Grumpy Medic. He absolutely would die for his brothers and their general and padawan. He does everything he can for his brothers and takes their health very seriously. Even if that means throwing a ration bar at their head because they haven't eaten yet today, the whole time muttering angrily about the headache they're giving him. He's honestly a massive grumpy bastard, but he's their massive grumpy bastard who loves them.

He's one of the only survivors from the attack that kills his squad, but he's presumed dead- taken as a POW by the Separatists. When he's eventually found, his Jedi has left the order, his padawan is a criminal, and only his youngest squad mate survived. The medical care he managed to apply while dying himself saved a few of them.

Assistant Medic: Storm

Storm was softer than Stims. While Stims will throw a nutrient block at your head, Storm would hand it to you and give you a short lecture- threatening to tell Stims if you don't get everything back in order. He was a regular trooper before he approached Stims asking for further med training. Stims was more than happy to have someone else to help out around the med bay. He would spoil their Padawan and got on best with the ""youngsters"" (himself, Torch and Rogue).

Demo Expert: Torch

Torch was... A little bit of chaos. He enjoyed explosions and fires and will take any opportunity to explode the clankers. He wanted to make a fire hot enough to melt the clankers. He was a bad influence on their Padawan along with Glint and Rogue. He'd make any excuse to start a fire or an explosion, often arguing for blowing a base up rather than leaving it to stand. He got drunk the easiest out of his brothers.

Stealth Expert: Rogue

Rogue was quieter but arguably the most feral of the bunch. When their general would get himself hurt doing force knows what to save their asses, he'd be the one curled up at the foot of the bed like a cat. He walked near silently and would frequently do so to scare his brothers. He was not above biting and would play dirty to win a fight. While his main skills lay in all things stealth, he was a heavy hitter and could absolutely handle the clankers. He always indulged their Padawan and would assist her with any pranks she wanted to pull. No questions asked.

Tech and Comms Expert: Static

Static buzzed constantly. Either he'd be making low grade chatter, constantly narrating his work under his breath, or his many tools would. He wasn't the most overly energetic, but when he was excited by something he would practically vibrate. He was more of a constant, low grade energy- like static on a TV screen, there and buzzing along constantly. He made the prosthetics for their Padawan and general, with the help of Click and Stims. He could hack into whatever they needed and could make whatever they needed with the help of Glint or Click. Ironically, Static was best friends with Stims because the medic said he gave him the least headaches.

Sniper and Weapons Expert: Click

Click could sometimes be rowdy and loud, despite being a sniper. On missions, he'd be serious and composed, the only sound you'd hear from him being the click of his blasters or mission critical information. Outside of missions? He was active, sometimes boisterous, and cared deeply for his family. He was one of the more tactile brothers and would often lean on the others or casually sling an arm around them. He was closest to Seven, Static and Stims. Often his work would coincide with the four of them so they naturally drifted close- despite him technically being one of the younger crew. Seven trusted him with difficult missions and would consult the trio whenever he needed advice. Click did however swear he hated children, and initially avoided their Padawan like the plague. He was a liar and they ended up getting on well- but he was more reserved around her. His voice is one of the deepest out of his squad, and when he wasn't overly excited it was fairly quiet- but full of emotion and well animated.

Heavy Weapons Unit: Base

Base was a little larger than your average clone trooper, always spending his time trying to get stronger and stronger. He wasn't the brightest bulb in the pack, but he was kind and loved his brothers. He doted on their Padawan, always willing to drop everything to help her. He's everyone's friend, always happy to help. Even if it was helping Torch set some recreational fires- though he was most often helping Glint or Stims and Storm. He did like to tease the shinies by scaring them with stories of their Jedi. One particular time when Hazard joined them, after Glint's death, he tried to scare the shiny by talking about how their general lost his arm. He also has what is widely considered the most ugly armour, since they all paint it themselves and Base isn't much of an artist.

Engineering Expert: Glint

The first to fall, Glint died prior to the mission that saw the entire squad wiped out. I wish I could say he died a hero's death, that he went down protecting his brothers like Base did, or Click, or Rogue, but he didn't. It was an unlucky shot, a stray blaster bolt catching him in the neck. There was nothing Stims could do, except heed his brother's last wishes. Glint couldn't talk, given he was rapidly losing oxygen and blood, but he held Stims hands and fixed him with such a fierce look- mouthing "look after them" desperately with tears in his eyes. Before his death, he would indulge their Padawan's every whim and was fiercely protective of his brothers. If Seven or Stims wasn't free to mediate a problem, he'd be the one.

After Glint died he was replaced by Hazard. Hazard is my partner's OC (<3). He's the only other survivor other than Stims.

[half-truths-and-hyperbole-louk]

Louk's Bad Batch rewatch part 22 !!!

lets go batcherssss 🤟

The Bad Batch 2x02

Omega's "told ya" is so full of sass omg

"crashing?!" yup

Echo holding Omega 🥺

Wrecker's not even there and Tech is roasting him 💀

"we are alive" BRO 😂

😫 Tech falls count: 2

Echo helps Tech up then he leans on Omega 🥺

the way he knew his leg was broken and by the weight of pressure

"we STILL haven't landed" 🥲

Captain Wilco my love 💕👑

Echo and Omega pulling Tech up 🤲

"Havoc 2 ... plan 00" 🥲 their codes their plans

Omega tugging on Echo's arm to get his attention 🥺

Omega's "roger" and her lil salute to Echo... a child soldier (along with all the clones oop)

didn't take long for Wilco to find tbb 💅 ... those tk troopers could never

"It's a toy, makes you happy" Omega now has 4 toys 🥲

Echo and Tech bickering lol

"Ace" 💕

"not separatist, Serennian" Tech: "I never thought of it like that" 💔

cheeky Omega sneaking off alone tsk tsk

this friend getting Tech to help him but also probably taking his mind off the pain 🥲

YES WRECKER HE'S SO INTELLIGENT FR !!! this is his Tony Stark moment 'he built it in a cave from a bunch of scraps!' 🥰

oopsie Tech was a little too distracted teehee

Tech is literally walking on a broken leg to get to Omega 😭🤲

Omega says "Echo" so excitedly 🥲 as she blinds him with her torch lmao

Tech is so close to passing out and he still- 😫

Hunter and Wrecker piloting 👌

Tech stayed awake long enough to take them all out my mans needs some sleep and some bacta

I can picture Echo's face under there like 😟 and his desparate "please" I'm-

"Ace" i love this guy hehe

Tech's whole arm wave to Echo and Omega 💕

Tech helping Omega up and them both helping Echo up I'm a sucker for what @anonymous-galager and I like to call non-sexual physical contact in little moments like that

"I'm a survivor remember" 👀 foreshadowing?? 🤞

Wrecker patting his new tank blaster 😍

Omega and Echo chatting 💕 "we made the right choice Omega, I'd do it all again" my whole heart right there

Rampart 😡😡😡

Wilco I'll never forget you bby you will be avenger I promise 😘

oof that was a lot of emotions !! I'm gonna do a few more a bit later !!! I literally cannot express how much I love this show yall they're all just so 🥺🤲

also enjoy a sneaky pic from ep 1 bc I just found it and I love it hehe

[ersatz-ostrich]

Wolffe x f!Model!Reader: Thank You

[A/N]: Another chapter taken from a book of oneshots I used to have on Quotev and Tumblr - I think I deleted it two years ago? Whew, time flies. So yeah, this is an old work. If you read my Captain Rex oneshot Droid-Crusher, I wrote this oneshot not long after. I think I wrote this oneshot nearly four years ago, which is crazy, because I feel like my writing has changed a lot since then. I'm really posting this for old time's sake, with a few edits so I don't lose my mind (lol!). This goes out to all you Wolffe girlies (gn) (I'm one of them). Hope you guys like it!

Summary: You are a talented supermodel quickly climbing the ranks of Coruscant's fashion industry—but your life wasn't always the runway or the studio. With your newfound influence, you found a charity to benefit the GAR and its relief efforts. One thing leads to another, and you end up meeting a man you'd never expected to see again...

Warnings: None

read it here on ao3!

"Hey, Boost! Check this out." Sinker beckoned for Boost, who was cleaning out the barrel of his rifle, to glance over at his holopad.

"A fundraiser for the GAR?" Boost muttered, skimming through the article's contents. "I wonder who could be backing this." 

"The Republic doesn't have an endless source of money, y'know." Sinker mused. "But a lot of rich senators and whatnot want to donate to the cause." The two troopers continued reading through the holonet article. 

"Oh, so a supermodel wants to donate to the Grand Army? Not something you see every day." Boost remarked. 

"Y/N L/N, too! Coruscant's top model!" Sinker exclaimed. “She went viral a few months ago and immediately signed to one of the biggest modeling firms on the planet. There’s a huge market for high fashion models in all the super-rich Core Worlds, so she must be raking in loads of credits.”

“How do you know that, Sinker?” Boost asked with narrowed eyes. “Have you been spending your downtime studying the Coruscanti fashion industry?”

“N-no! When I’m bored and we’re in hyperspace, I like to read those trashy celebrity magazines on the Holonet. Y/N’s a sensation, I hear.”

"For what reason would she want to start a fundraiser?" Boost mused. Wolffe, who was examining a map on the other side of the wardroom table, nearly spit out his caf when one of Y/N's photos turned up on Sinker's holopad. He recognized the determined, fiery look in her eyes all too well.

The scent of burning flesh and smoking debris filled the air over Y/N's home planet. Sirens wailed, but the anguished citizens wailed louder. Nothing could possibly be worse for the war-torn planet—but to Commander Wolffe and the 104th, it was another day conducting search-and-rescues and relief missions.

Wolffe clambered over fallen debris, signaling for the Wolfpack to disperse in search of survivors in the burning city. The Separatists had spared no one from their wrath—the entire capital had been torched. 

A loud creaking sound grated at Wolffe's ears, alerting him of a failing structure. Just in time, he saw the already-scorched building sagging under the weight of decimated masonry and scaffolding, a woman trying to climb down the tall structure. She had reached the crumbling and listing balcony with a makeshift rope made out of bedding when more wreckage rained from above, trapping her against the harsh, exposed concrete of the balcony floor. Wolffe looked up and met the (E/C) eyes of the woman, whose gaze burned with unprecedented determination and willpower. Arm outstretched to the clone commander, she made one last attempt to free herself of the wreckage. Wolffe, having done this a million times before, ignited his jetpack and rushed to her side. 

Yes, she was beautiful—she was absolutely dazzling. However, something was different this time around. It was her will to live, Wolffe thought, that struck him as odd. Each and every other survivor he had seen before appeared to either have had the Living Force leached right out of them, eyes empty and dim—or were gripped with intense fear and shock. Wolffe finally heaved off the last few planks of wood off of the woman's ash-covered form, returning her safely to the ground. Finally stumbling onto solid ground, the woman gripped his gloved hands tightly and securely, staring straight into his darkened visor. 

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you."

During the days following up to the fundraiser, Wolffe found it difficult to get your likeness off of his mind. It seemed as if every daily briefing that pinged onto his datapad contained a picture of you, striding confidently down a catwalk with the same look in your eyes while you stared straight at the camera with an air of professionalism and talent. Your metamorphosis stunned Wolffe—he'd never learned the name of the woman he had saved from the burning wreckage the year before, but there was no doubt that she was the model he saw so often in the fashion and beauty advertisements flashing across Coruscant's biggest billboards that he'd never bothered to look at. Your likeness haunted him day and night, yet it was what pushed him to work harder to support the 104th and General Plo Koon. 

On the day that you arrived at the base, you were met by the many squadrons and battalions that were reporting on Coruscant. Cameras flashed from all angles, some from the many gossip columns on the Holonet, others from more prominent planetary news sources. You greeted them with a smile that had taken you weeks to perfect, and the clones stood at attention without fail. Jedi Generals Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Yoda, and Plo Koon welcomed you courteously.

"Y/N L/N. To the military base, we welcome you." Yoda began with a bow. 

"No need to bow to me, Master. I am forever grateful for the opportunity to raise money for the Republic." You replied with a bow of your own. "If anything, I should be bowing to you."

"Is that really her?" Sinker hissed under his breath as he stood at attention with the rest of the 104th. "She's prettier than she looks in the photos." You were dressed casually, but you could have worn a garbage bag and still exuded the effortlessly elegant look of an off-duty model.

"Shut up, Sinker. She'll notice you!" Comet whispered back, subtly elbowing Sinker. Wolffe tried not to pay attention to the clone sergeant's shenanigans, eyes fixed on Y/N.

"Why don't we discuss the details and potential benefactors inside? I have a few ideas." General Kenobi offered, leading you inside. "At ease, troopers." The battalions, in neat rows by rank and seniority, dispersed and returned to their tasks. You were led through a hangar, where you admired LAATs with an appreciative eye, through busy corridors, and finally, to a meeting room of sorts where some holographic images glowed blue over a conference table. 

"After you, Miss L/N." General Koon began, making way for you to stand at the head of the table. "We have much to discuss." Thanking the Jedi Master, you immediately began examining the holos. 

"Senator Amidala of Naboo has expressed interest in your project," General Skywalker began from the other side of the table. "She wants to know more about the high-caliber photo-ops and how you will run your campaign."

"Is that so?" You replied, remaining deep in thought. "I have also received word that Senators Mon Mothma and Aang are also willing to contribute, along with various comically shallow and snooty socialites who have money to support the cause." You joked, noticing General Skywalker suppressing laughter.

"Strengthen public relations, we must." Yoda suggested. "With this program, discrimination of clones, we should stop." You nodded in agreement. 

"That's why I'm here, Master Yoda. This is exactly what I came here to do." You pulled up a holo of some names and locations. "I've been talking this over with my agency and manager. They're willing to let me see this project through, so I've scheduled some times and dates for things like charity events and relief missions."

"Oh, so you want to conduct relief missions as well?" General Kenobi inquired. You nodded in confirmation.

"That's right. I...have a history with mercy missions." You answered with an uncomfortable pause. "In my opinion, they’re just as important as military campaigns, and I hope the general public believes so as well." 

"Very well, Miss L/N. Thankful for your support, we are." Master Yoda and the other Jedi nodded, seeming to have come to a consensus on the campaign's goals. One by one they left, leaving you to admire and explore the base. You started with the hangar, where you found Y-wings, Aethersprites, and Torrent starfighters being serviced. Several clones began whispering amongst themselves upon your entrance while others waved enthusiastically. 

"Miss L/N! What brings you to the hangar today?" A pilot whose helmet was decorated with blue-gray curlicues appeared in front of you, saluting. 

"I'm just having a look around. I'll be spending a lot of time on base during these next few months." You replied with a gracious smile. Just entering the hangar with the rest of the Wolfpack, Wolffe noticed how friendly but professional you were off of the runway and out of earshot of the nosy Coruscanti press. 

"Warthog, how are we doin' on that fighter—!" Wolffe stopped dead in his tracks. It was you. He noticed the change in demeanor that suddenly overcame you upon noticing him. "You..."

The project was blessed with massive success from the start—many civilians began to show their support for the Republic and the clones that gave their lives to defend it. You assisted mission after mission, working not just as the GAR’s covergirl but as the grunt lugging crates, helping the clones with menial but necessary tasks. 

While your fame grew as a charitable influencer and supermodel, you began to spend more time with Wolffe. It was certainly a simple pleasure to sit shoulder to shoulder with the clone troopers of the Wolfpack not as their boss, but as their equal—even more so that you were able to stay by their jaded commander who'd coincidentally saved your life not so long ago—and captured your heart in the process.

The 104th and company milled about the camps, ushering on gonk droids and heaving crates of bacta and provisions everywhere. Watching on from the top of a grassy hill, Y/N and Wolffe took a break from the constant heavy lifting of supplies from supply ships to the war refugees they had come to aid. As a part of Y/N's campaign to promote and benefit the GAR's relief efforts, she would be attending every mercy mission they would be conducting for the next few months as the campaign continued. There were cam droids everywhere to document the effort, broadcasting your likeness as you worked with the clones and Jedi wherever you were called.

The people wanted someone real and candid, not just another out-of-touch celebrity. You hypothesized that your approach to your campaign had made you popular in the media because of how real it felt. 

The hovercams were on you nearly every waking hour of the day. Sometimes you spoke with them, like the popular vloggers on the Holonet. But this time, you were taking a break from all the attention.

"The view is pretty from up here." You began. The breeze tousled your hair, and the sky on this particular planet was especially beautiful at dusk. 

"Yeah, except for all of the soot and debris." Wolffe replied, kicking a stray droid arm down the hill. You stole a look at his pensive face, admiring the scar over his cybernetic eye as a long, stretched-out silence overcame the two of you. "You knew, didn't you? About the fires, and the balcony." Wolffe blurted out. Seeing your expression of surprise, he realized the gravity of what he had said. To his surprise, your eyes softened, reminiscing back to the moment that had changed your life. 

"Yes, I remember." You revealed your left wrist to him. A thick, flesh-colored scar ran along the side of your hand. "I got cut pretty badly by a piece of glass that night." Passing his gloved thumb over the scar, Wolffe pressed a kiss to your hand, lips brushing against the long scar. 

"The first time I met you." Wolffe whispered with a small smile. "How could I have forgotten?" You tried to hide your blush and the tingling sensation of Wolffe's lips against your skin, but your expression betrayed you. 

"Wolffe, I..." The feeling of his arms carrying you to safety, strong and reliable, had been seared into your memory. You'd entertained the thought of meeting your hero and savior again one day, even after the Rodian talent scout had found you working as an underpaid waitress on Coruscant—it was because of Wolffe that you were able to become who you are. He was the one who gave you a second chance at life. "...had you not been there, I would have burned in that apartment on some godforsaken planet with no escape."

"Y/N, I'll stay by your side forever if I have to…." Wolffe cupped your face in his gloved hands, drinking in the features that had been preserved so well in his mind. “...only if you would have me.” 

“Of course, Commander…” You leaned in for a deep, long kiss, no longer wanting to run from all of the pent-up weeks of pining that threatened to destroy all of your self control.

"Thank you," you murmured. "Thank you."

What a trip down memory lane! Believe it or not, there are a lot more oneshots I deleted that I have yet to republish. I can't believe I had the foresight to save them - I guess I didn't have the heart to delete over a year's worth of writing. Until next time! x

Let me know if you want to be part of my general or Star Wars taglist!

[for-the-sake-of-color]

Happy Oc Sunday! For Nihlus or any one in crisis company!

👑: What does your oc want to be remembered as? Why?

🔫: Do they trust people easily? How easily will they turn their back to someone? Have they been backstabbed before? Will they betray someone if given an ultimatum?

💧: Random angst headcanon

☄️: What do people assume about them? Are they right?

Thanks so much!!! asdjghasgh Sorry this took so long, tumblr desided it didnt like this post so its been hard tryinga get it to post

One Nihlus and Crisis Company, coming right up! (under the cut for lenth purposes) Gonna stop trying to format it and just post it cause this website likes to shit itself anytime you use its own built in features

What Do they want to be Remembered as?

Nihlus: Doesn't want to be remembered, and actually goes out of his way to make sure he is generally never perceived in the first place. To Nihlus, for Nihlus, knowledge about him is a weapon against him. Better to pass through most of life like a ghost. Jet: Wants to be remembered as a smart Captain and a Good Man if he can, someone effective and reliable at what he does. Jet would have deserted the GAR after Geonosis if he didn't believe in the cause of protecting the innocent from the horror of separatist occupation and destruction, because he doesn't believe in the republic itself. He doesn't want to be a hero or maintain a system, he just wants to end the suffering. Margo: She want to do something cool! Mostly just wants to be remembered as that awesome uncle that fixes everything everyone needs Cynic: Would love to be a beloved artist. He wants people to want what he makes. He wants to be remembered for what he can do rather than what he is. Many of his watercolor sketches already sit framed on the walls of Mary Ann's fine dining restaurants, so it could be a reality if the galaxy is kind to him. Heron: Doesn't want to be remembered by anyone except those closest to him. People would be harder to lure in to back alleys to try and mug him if they know to stay away from the guy with the prosthetic leg. And how can he commit crimes against the force gods if no one attacks him first? Lake: Chronically unsure, Lake thinks he wants to be remembered as a decent guy all things considered. Thinks they're all going to be remembered as monsters, but whatever. That's whoever comes next's problem to deal with, he's just trying to have fun and stay alive. Torch: Torch doesn't care if or how he's remembered after he's gone, he's also just here to have a good time while he can. His captain would probably say he's going to be remembered as a goofy problem soldier, but he's going to be remembered as absolutely devotional to his squad, and an excellent sharpshooter. Sprig: He wants to be remembered like a kickass fantasy spy advisor like leliana or zeveran from dragon age. Course the only reason they're deeds are known is because they're part of a video game. Maybe.... he thinks about writing a blackmail book. It would highly embarrass so many senators and office officials for petty (usually illegally so) shit, but that's what they get for legally making him the guy who had to deal with all the bomb threats by chance of birth. Empty buildings give him time to riffle through their shit.

-

Do they trust people easily? How easily will they turn their back to someone? Have they been backstabbed before? Will they betray someone if given an ultimatum?

Nihlus: He trusts trustworthy people.... as long as they aren't Jedi or Sith. Anyone capable of resisting his ability to unconditionally access their thoughts and intentions is an eventual threat even if they chose not to resist him.

-He doesn't do things for the good of doing it, if he wants to help even at risk to himself, he really has to like someone. Otherwise that honor is reserved for his clan, for whom he would give himself at the lightest provocation.

-Nihlus ended up in the Era of the Clone Wars due to being locked into a stasis chamber in his archive meant for fragile documents by his former master and oldest friend, Kishta, who had lured him in there to prevent his attempted assassination of the sith emporor for the destruction of his previous clan

- Nihlus is physcially incapable of betraying any of his squad no matter the cost (one of Jets orders), nor would he want to if he could. that is trust for Nihlus. Anyone else is fair game to whatever else serves the needs of him and his people

Jet: Has a healthy suspicion of others because to do otherwise would be irresponsible, but it does not stop him from reaching out, from trying, when he feels that the person is worth it

- Jet will never turn his back on his squad, his family, by his own admission. Has, though, on numerous occasions given some orders that put them in unnecessary danger for appearances sake. no one is perfect.

-Jet has never been truly back-stabbed, but he has been lied to on numerous occasions

-Jet... is initially ready to trade Nihlus life if and when he has to, for the sake of his squad and their family, as was his deal when becoming the Siths Captain. However, the longer he has him, the less likely he is to actually do so. Would not be able to choose between the lives of his squad even if their lives depended on it.

Margo: She trusts hard and fast, but if her trust is ever completely lost... that's it. Good fucking luck ever getting it back.

- Puts her trust in her Captain, and would turn her back on anyone he deemed it necessary for. Otherwise, she goes with her gut to do what she thinks she has to, to be able to sleep soundly at night.

- There have been several times where Margorashly believes they have been betrayed, by Nihlus... by Jet... by militia allies... for the first two it turned out alright, the last one... is still up for debate

- Will betray anyone she has to, to protect their family. She's the second in command, and that saddles her with a certain level of responsibility damn whatever her own morals say.

Cynic: Does not trust a single soul outside of their squad, although its less of a "all of you are sus" and more of a "none of you are reliable"

- it's not turning your back on people if you weren't really going to help them in the first place. Anyone who isn't squad is just fodder for the cause, although he has far more of an affinity towards helping other clones than to even looking a natborns way

- you can only be backstabbed by people you trust and he believes his squad wouldnt do that, everything else is just an unanticipated attack

- has a tier list of who he would trade for who within his squad if he had to that he would never tell anyone else about. It's not based on who he likes best, but rather who he thinks would be able to best keep the squad going

Heron: Doesn't trust easily outside his squad, that's how you get caught. and he hates nothing more than when the jig is up, tehee

- easily, he'll easily turn his back on people (who arent his crew). The only people worth sticking your neck out for are the ones as willing to kill for you as they are to die for you.

- Definately thought Nihlus did that one thing that one time like Margo but was also wrong, although he didn't take it as personally as she did. He is well aware there are worse people them him out there.

- has a tier list like Cynic does. two, actually. one that he publically shifts around as a joke anytime someone fucks with him, and the real one that he holds close to his heart.

Lake: Wants to believe the best in people at all times, genuinely wants to

- would, in the opinion of much of the rest of his crew, would give his life too easily in order to do the right thing. would not easily turn his back on anyone that needed help

- All the time, if by back-stabbed you mean 'dissapointed', Torch is too cautious though, so Lake has never had the chance to be seriously betrayed

- Would never betray his crew outright, no matter what. the morality of his crew matters less than the vows he has made to them. Has been given an ultimatum before, and he made his choice.

Torch: Wants to believe the best in people, but always expects the worst, he has to. it's kept them alive before, and it will do so again.

- will trust easily, and will break that trust easily if he thinks he detects the slightest threat. His squad comes first, always. Will tattle on them to the Captain if he thinks it'll be funny though.

- His initial fuck-ups almost cost his training batch their spots in the GAR, but they didn't have to throw him as under the bus for it as hard as they did

- Will die with his crew before he betrays them, but if he thinks accepting the initial offer will get him a way to help, he can put up a pretty convincing front

Sprig: Trust is hard earned with Sprig, but he notices potential and offers tentative trust accordingly

- socially, he will not be caught unawares. he's spent too long watching people.

- Has never been truely betrayed. had brothers who told him they'd come back who never did, but it's hard to blame the dead, isnt it?

- Sprig will betray anyone he has to, again, for his crew. Jet built this squad well. for his crew? He also has a list of who's life comes first. like the others, his isnt on top of his own.

Random angst headcanon?

Nihlus: Sometimes he looks in the mirror tries to grin and wishes he could smile in full like he could when he was young and happy and didn't had nerve damage over a full third of his face

Jet: gets migraines from his numerous head injuries

Margo: Several of the squad she commanded before she became Jets second died very soon after she transferred, and sometimes she wonders if she had turned him down whether or not she could have done anything to prevent it

Cynic: feels a lot of insecurity initially over his place in the squad, although he doesn't show it, since it was Margo that requested (demanded) he join with her rather than Jet offering.

Heron: Gets phantom cramps in a foot that no longer exists if he leans on that side for too long without a cane, and nothing except straight 'sith magic' has ever seemed to help make it go away

Lake: For better (and through worse) Lake will stay by Torch's side, no matter how often he ethically disagrees with the rest of their squad, because the rest of their batch is DEAD and Lake will be damned if he loses his last batcher, no matter what sort of monster he has to become to keep them that way.

Torch: Constantly puts up a front of whimsy because he's afraid that what he has underneath it isnt worth loving.

Sprig: So, so scared of dying. It's one of the reasons he transfered out of the ordinence corps

-

What do people assume about them? Are they right?

Nihlus: People often see Nihlus' lightsabers and lack of clone armor when the squad is together and assume that he's either the Jedi, or the one in Charge. They are oh so very wrong on both accounts. He will get really pissy if they're stubborn about trying to talk to him over his Captain about mission shit he could really not care any less about. Jet: People assume that the Sith is some how mind controlling his Captain into doing what he wants, when he wants. Jet just scoffs in Blood Oath and orders Nihlus to scrub the refreshers for the third time this month as punishment for breaking some ships rules or ditching drills to hang around Kix, again. Margo: People often assume she's a mechanic, when she's just a tech. Sure, she dabbles in machinery, but she's much more capable on the software than the hardware aspect of technology. She can rewire the engines power cells but for the grace of the force don't ask her what model of spark plug the damn thing needs. Cynic: People assume that by his name and attitude, he hates fun. a real stick up his ass stick in the mud. Truth is he's an early twenty-somethings man trying to make the most of things, he's just a little pessimistic, like, all the time. Absolute party animal otherwise Heron: People assume that as a Medic he's a real 'save everyone you can, do the least amount of harm' mildly Hippocratic oath inclined kinda guy like a majority of the medical professionals in the GAR. Unfortunately, he has... serial killer tendencies. Bit of a god complex, Giver and Taker of Life kinda thing. See enough guys with your face die under you hands and your knife and it's bound to do something, warp you in some way. Lake: People may assume that as like, one of the few people with a truely morally compassionate compass of the group, that Lake would be the weak link to press on to coerce into betraying the squad, but they would be very, very wrong. He values his families life above all others, just not his own. Torch: His whimsical nature might trick one into thinking he's a fool, but Torch is actually one of the most tactically brilliant soldiers in Crisis Company, and has the best aim out of all of them. He's just... occasionally taken over by the urge to Have a Good Time. Sprig: Is a real Seems like a Cinnamon Roll, Could Kill You, kinda guy. Really great at drawing people into just talking. In reality, he's filling it all away to use at a later date should it come in handy. (rarely does it, so he always just comes off as a peoples person)

[kybercrystals94]

Ghost Stories

By KyberCrystals94

Read here on Ao3

Whumptober 2023 | Day 17 | Alternative Prompt: Panic

Rating: T

Words: 847

Summary: Fives tells a ghost story during a training camp with Domino Squad.

Author’s Note: takes place during the Clone Wars, while Domino Squad are still cadets

Echo scowls into the trees surrounding their camp, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He resists the yearning to slink into the comforting glow of the firelight because he knows if any of the other Dominos wake up and find him away from his post, he will never hear the end of it for the rest of his life.

“Stupid Fives and his stupid stories,” Echo mutters to the inky darkness.

“I have a story,” Fives said around the campfire that night while the Domino Squad gnawed on stale ration bars, “but you have to promise not to be scared.”

“We’re not tubies,” Droidbait retorted.

Fives holds up his hands. “Hey, I’m just saying, if you’re terrified tonight when you’re all alone on your watch, don’t come crying to me.”

“Just tell your stupid story,” Hevy said, “I can’t imagine anything being scarier than Echo reciting the regulations in his sleep like that one time.”

“That never happened,” Echo grumbled.

“How would you know? You were asleep,” Fives said.

Echo rolled his eyes.

“Anyway,” Fives says, “this is a true story I heard from one of the troopers on Kamino. And it happened right here, on Fos Eran…”

Echo edges around the perimeter of the camp, keeping his back to where his brothers sleep, his eyes forward to the looming silhouettes of trees and squat shadows of undergrowth, barely touched by moonlight. He has his torch beam skimming the tree line, but it can’t account for everything all at once. Echo hates this, the feeling of eyes watching him, the sensation of an unidentified presence lurking.

A branch snaps.

The hair on the back of Echo’s neck stands on end.

“They say the bride went into the woods that night,” Fives said, leaning forward, voice low, “the eve before her wedding. There were flowers, she said, that only bloom in the light of the full moon.”

Echo glanced up at the reflective orb shining down at them.

“Oh,” Fives said, looking up, “I guess there’s a full moon tonight too.”

“Like you didn’t know that,” Cutup groaned.

Echo swallows, daring to glance back to where the four other members of Domino Squad sleep.

“It is just a stupid story, Echo, di’kut,” he whispers, “Stop letting it go to your head. You are part of the greatest army the galaxy has ever seen. Are you really scared of a little story?”

A gust of wind cools the back of his neck like a whispery breath.

Echo jumps.

“…after they heard her blood curdling scream, they searched for weeks, but never found her body, just a strip of fabric from the dress she wore that night. Since then, every month on the night of the fullest moon, the ghost of the bride comes searching for a groom to join her in death. You’ll see her out the corner of your eye, but when you turn to look, she isn’t there, but you’ll feel her breath on your neck, her fingers in your hair…”

Echo catches a flash of white out the corner of his eye and turns to look. Nothing.

“Of course, it’s nothing,” Echo growls, “there’s nothing there.”

“Echo…”

Echo spins around, the beam of his torch flying madly across the treetops. “Who’s there?”

“Echo…” a whisper says, a voice so soft it barely wraps around the syllables of his name.

Echo looks back to the camp where four bodies lay, deep in undisturbed sleep. How angry would they be if he woke them up now? He would probably die of embarrassment before any of his squad mates could kill him.

“Sith’s hell,” Echo curses, chest tight. Someone’s out there, in the woods. Probably someone from another squad pulling a prank. Absolute idiots. The whole lot of them. Echo swallows, gripping his torch so tight in both hands his joints ache.

“Join me, Echo…”

Fingers card through his hair.

Echo doesn’t shriek. He doesn’t. Absolutely does not. But by the time his vision clears, he is looking down at Fives who is sitting on his shebs, hands cupped over a bloody nose from Echo inadvertently backhanding him as he spun around in sheer panic. Cutup is cackling so hard he is doubled over as he staggers out of the woods from where the voice called out.

“Kark, Echo!” Fives cries, but even with his hands covering the whole lower part of his face, Echo can see from the clone’s eyes that he has the biggest, stupidest smile on his face. “Did I scare you?”

Echo glares down at him. “You’re lucky they don’t let us carry blasters out here, or I would’ve shot you.”

“I didn’t know clone voices could reach that octave,” Cutup howls. “Congrats, Echo! That must be a record.”

Hevy and Droidbait are sitting up in their bedrolls now, tiredly blinking, but grins stretching their identical faces.

Echo wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole. “I’m going to pay you back,” he swears at Fives and Cutup, “both of you. You won’t see it coming, and it will be swift and painful.”

END

Author’s Note: Thought I was due for a light hearted story, so here we are.

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