#116th

[masterjedilenawrites]

🌟 The fun thing about clone battalions having assigned numbers is that there's (usually) a calendar date to match them. I've decided to shower some attention on our favorite clone battalions this year by writing a little something-something for them on their corresponding dates 💜

Though this may not be popular, I'm starting off with my OC clone unit: the 116th Battalion. I've mentioned them a few times in The Sniper & the Medic and in anon conversations about OCs. I've been wanting to put more of them onto paper, so to speak, and January 16th gives me a fun excuse to do so!

OCs: 116th & Joan Vo | 1.4k words

Content: references to blood and death

The 116th

"Prepare to jump." Commander Crowe's voice echoed around the bridge and his men immediately fell into position, quietly and efficiently. Like a well-oiled machine. Crowe may have been known to sport hairy legs and flip-flops on his days off, but his authority was not to be messed with while on duty. There'd be time enough for everyone to have their personalities later, after the mission was over.

"Coordinates set for -401.72, -561.84, 004.32," confirmed the battalion pilot, R.J.

"Ready to jump into hyperspeed, on your command," nodded R.J.'s co-pilot, Diver.

Crowe let a brief, dramatic moment pass before saying, "Jump." It was his favorite thing to do, though he'd never admit it to a soul.

Stars stretched into dazzling streaks across the viewport as the Valiant cut through them. They'd have about an hour before reaching the rest of the battalion stationed outside of Batuu. The data they'd recovered from a grounded CIS craft on Malastare could then be transmitted back to Coruscant for further analysis.

But the data chip wasn't the only thing they'd be bringing back with them. Crowe couldn't help but glance over at the young woman who sat in one of the tactician chairs, clothes stained with the blood of its previous owner. The shiny, Brig, hadn't even been in the role two full rotations before getting blown to smithereens. Crowe blamed himself for not checking for booby traps on that CIS cruiser before sending the young hotshot in. And this woman blamed herself for not being able to stitch him back together in time.

"What do you make of her?"

A soft voice came up beside him, Jedi General Rhee. Crowe grunted in acknowledgement.

"She's alright," he responded, not wanting to commit to an opinion one way or the other. Not yet.

She was not the first stray they'd picked up. Far from it. No matter where they went, on a mission, in the thick of a battlefield, even on R&R, they always seemed to attract whatever sad, lost, and lonely being was around, from Tookas to orphans to escaped slaves. They'd shelter the poor things for a bit and then help them find a home elsewhere. Though Crowe was pretty sure there was still a porg being secretly kept on one of the other ships.

This woman, Joan Vo, was a little different. For one, she hadn't begged to come aboard. Hadn't tried to strike any deals or use the sad puppy in the rain tactic that others had done. No, she simply stated it. Demanded it, even. And for another, she seemed equally determined to stay. Become part of the crew. Crowe wasn't sure what the legalities were with such a thing. The Republic would get their fair share of civilian volunteers, but they were often in administrative or training roles, not as an active combat medic.

All that to say, Crowe didn't know what to make of her. And he wasn't about to get attached to something he didn't understand.

"She has heart," Rhee was saying. The Jedi's gentle voice just barely managed to recapture Crowe's attention from his confused thoughts. "The boys need some of that, after all the hell they've been through these past few cycles."

Crowe only grunted again. He supposed he was right. They'd been on very punishing back-to-back missions that had lost more brothers than expected. Though he wasn't sure what this lady would be able to do about it. There were things not even a doctor could heal.

She seemed to sense they were looking at her. She promptly rose from the chair and came over.

"Dr. Vo." Rhee extended his hand, not having been properly introduced yet.

"Please, call me Joan," she said, taking his hand. Her voice was low and raspy, as if she'd been shouting all day. Which, Crowe knew, she had not. She had remained calmed and assertive throughout all the horrors they'd faced on that cruiser.

"And you may call me Rhee," smiled the Jedi. The 116th was very loose with their names, rarely ever using titles unless they were around other units or Republic leaders. Even then, Rhee insisted on being called General Rhee as his last name was far too difficult to pronounce for most.

"I understand you wish to join the battalion," Rhee continued as they dropped hands. "We would be honored to have such a courageous spirit among our ranks."

"We already have a medical team." A new voice joined the little circle they'd created at the back of the bridge. Captain Civic, Crowe's righthand. The solider was opposite to Crowe in every way, which was saying something considering that Crowe himself had quite a dueling personality. Where Crowe had a laidback, "live-and-let-live" demeanor in his downtime, Civic was much more concerned with the status quo and all the "shoulds" and "should nots" that came with it. But on a battlefield, Crowe held his ground while Civic improvised. Crowe was competitive; Civic was civil.

The list could keep running on, but despite all the differences, the two brothers were tight-knit, leading their men in a united effort. There was only one other clone whom Crowe was so completely bonded with, but they were assigned different battalions. Civic was his true brother in arms.

Joan didn't seem put off by Civic and his disapproval suddenly showing up to the conversation. "But you didn't bring them with you today," she countered. She crossed her arms over her chest, not-so-subtly drawing attention to the fact there was still blood all over it.

"They were needed elsewhere," Civic responded cooly.

"And I'm not. I am an additional resource."

Civic already had his mouth open for another retort but Rhee wisely stepped in before things got out of hand.

"And we are very grateful for your generosity," he said with another kind smile. "Now, it will be some time before we join the rest of the fleet. Allow me to show you to refreshers so you can get cleaned up. Civic will make sure a room gets prepared for your stay as well."

The Jedi gave the Captain a knowing look as he ushered Joan to walk away with him.

Civic waited until the two got out of sight before letting out a frustrated huff.

"Don't know what you're so upset about," Crowe chuckled lowly. "She doesn't strike me as the type to steal your socks."

He was referring to a pretty Twi'lek girl they'd once rescued from a nasty old Baron. All the boys had been smitten with her, until they realized she'd been stealing odd things from them all.

Civic's mouth only deepened in its frown. "I'd rather deal with petty theft."

"Than what?"

"Exactly. We don't know what this chick's MO is. What civvy in their right mind would demand to work with the GAR on the frontlines? She's either crazy, or she's up to something."

Crowe agreed that it was odd, and that he didn't like not understanding what this woman was about. But so revealed another difference between him and Civic. To him, this was an intriguing mystery that needed to play itself out. He was content to simply keep an eye on her and nothing else.

Civic, on the other hand, was lining her up in his scope, ready to fire at the first sign of maliciousness. Crowe almost felt sorry for the girl, if he didn't believe she could handle it. Of the few things he knew about Joan so far, she wasn't phased by much.

"Well, like it or not, she's here to stay," he clapped him on the shoulder. "We'll just have to make do."

Crowe hid a smile as his words predictably got Civic all worked up.

"Make do? Make do?" The poor clone was practically hyperventilating at such a notion. "What if she's plotting to overtake control of the fleet, use our forces against the rest of the garrison? What if she kills us in our sleep? Or what if she's just crazy and still kills us in our sleep?"

Crowe just shook his head and left Civic standing on the bridge with more of his what-if scenarios. Only time would tell what Dr. Joan Vo was up to. In the meantime, Crowe needed a shower. He'd just realized that he, too, was still covered in the blood of their fallen brother.

Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear, @theroguesully, @cw80831

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🌟 2024 Clone Battalion Series Master List | 🌙 Master List of Master Lists

[mt-nynj-queer]

ReKente

Twitter @ReKente

[renaissancetourfashion]

Beyoncé in Marine Serre for The Renaissance World Tour OPULENCE ACT - Las Vegas, 2023

[onewhale]

International breakkkkk❤️❤️❤️

[the-lido]

kerblam

[wanderingnewyork]

The #Beach_116th_Street_Rockaway_Park_Station on the Rockaway Park Shuttle, #Queens.

[engagemythrusters]

🍩 and 🍹for Handsanitizer

🍩What's a crime your OC is most likely to commit? What's a crime they're most likely to get arrested for?

Accidental treason xoxo

🍹 Does your OC have any funny anecdotes told about them?

He drank hand sanitiser by mistake. He eats oranges peel-on. He falls asleep standing up. Drank soup with a straw once. Accidentally set his captain on fire. Buries any bug he squishes as if it’s a funeral. This is not the end.

[ofnarcissus]

"One Daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures..."

-William Wordsworth

"Citizens of the glorious districts, rejoice in the triumph of our newest victor, a shining beacon of excellence who emerged victorious in the arena! The celebration of her triumphant victory shall commence as she embarks on a grand journey, traveling to each district by the impeccable Capitol train. Prepare yourselves for a rare and splendid opportunity to engage with this remarkable victor. Take advantage of the moment and pose your inquiries, satisfying your insatiable curiosity about the Games and the illustrious champion who emerged from the crucible of competition. Join us in embracing the glory of the Capitol and reveling in the splendor of our victorious tribute!"

-- Pulled from the Capitol archives of the 116th games --

[casposters]

(via Military Machines of American Freedom)

116th assault helicopter company 

[klinejack]

ah it was also my grandfather's birthday yesterday

[usafphantom2]

Vietnam war by Linh Yoshimura Via Flickr: 1960s - 116th AHC troops walking away from departing helicopter.

[masterjedilenawrites]

🌟 2024 Clone Battalion Series Master List

The fun thing about clone battalions having assigned numbers is that there's (usually) a calendar date to match them. I've decided to shower some attention on our favorite clone battalions this year by writing a little something-something for them on their corresponding dates 💜

Here's the schedule I'm planning for so far. Please let me know if I'm missing any!

1/16 - My OC Battalion, the 116th

2/1 - 21st Nova Corp/Commander Bacara

2/12 - The 212th

3/27 - The 327th

4/4 - Delta Squad (Delta is the 4th letter and there are 4 members)

5/1 - The 501st

8/7 - The 187th

9/9 - Clone Force 99

10/4 - The 104th

I'll update this master list with links as stuff gets posted throughout the year.

[pleasantavenuemafia]

Fat Tony Salerno: Pleasant Avenue: The Way It Was

Excerpt from Pleasant Avenue: The Way It Was

Back then all the way up to 1988, Fat tony was the boss of the Genovese crime family and the second most powerful mafia figure in New York, next to Paul Castellano, the head of the Gambino crime family.

Years later in 1988 Fat Tony Salerno was convicted in in a scheme to allocate contracts and obtain payoffs for constructing the concrete superstructures of 16 Manhattan buildings, including the Jacob J. Javits Convention Center and the Trump Plaza. He got 70 years for that. And other 100 years for operating the "commission" that ruled the Mafia throughout the United States.

Check out Pleasant Avenue: The Way It Was on Amazon – Click Here

All in all Fat Tony received 170 years in prison. He died of complications from a stroke in 1992. Upon his death, Fortune magazine named Salerno the richest and most powerful mobster in America.

Born and raised in East Harlem on Pleasant Avenue, Fat Tony had his eulogy at Our Lady of Mount Carmel church on 115th Street in 1992.

Check out Pleasant Avenue: The Way It Was on Amazon – Click Here

Father Peter Rofrano claimed that “God walked with him.” I don’t know about that, maybe God walked with Fat Tony Salerno because he wanted to make sure Fat Tony got on the downtown train to the other place. He was buried where most Pleasant Avenue associates are buried, in the Old Saint Raymond’s cemetery in the Bronx, New York . . . .

Check out Pleasant Avenue: The Way It Was on Amazon – Click Here

[raosrestaurantpleasantavenue]

Rao’s Restaurant and the Mafia Connection

Excerpt from "Pleasant Avenue: The Way It Was

Growing up, the best restaurant on Pleasant Avenue was Rao’s Restaurant. My friend Joey and I would flip baseball cards against the wall of his restaurant and while I never ate in the dining room during this time, I was lucky enough to get to eat in Rao’s kitchen.  Occasionally, I would go to the kitchen and Mr. Rao would give me and Joey a plate of Ziti.  He would see me and Joey flipping cards and he would say “Mario you are so skinny, come you and Joey get some pasta before you disappear.” . . .

I would often see big black cars lined up on the street with drivers waiting outside. The restaurant had only 10 or so tables, so the drivers would get “Takeout” Sometimes they would give the street kids like me a dollar to get the food for them. I mean it was difficult for even some of the wise guys to get a table. I remember this one time when the restaurant was turned upside down. Wise guys would come to the restaurant and leave without eating.

Apparently, Fat Tony Salerno was tired of not getting a table on a daily basis so he decided to kidnap Rao’s chef so he could enjoy his favorite Italian dishes daily, but after a sit down with the five families, Fat Tony returned the chef to Rao's . . .

If you like this excerpt, you may enjoy PLEASANT AVENUE: THE WAY IT WAS available at Barnes and Noble - Click Here

[italianharlem]

The Real Little Italy: Pleasant Avenue

To many, Italian Harlem was nothing more than a slum where poor Italian immigrants lived crowded together one on top of the other.  I remember hearing on the radio once an Irish politician; I don’t remember his name saying, “These Italians are dirty people they like living in squalor so why help them.”

Check out Pleasant Avenue: The Way It Was on Amazon – Click Here

My parents were immigrants from Bari, Italy, which is in the southern part of Italy. In the United States, immigrants from the southern part of Italy were considered low class. During this time the Irish were dominant in New York. They controlled the politics and religious machinery of the city. The Italian immigrants like my parents were harassed and the prejudice towards them was apparent and public.

Read more about Italian harlem - Here

[aboutpleasantavenue]

Pleasant Avenue and Hot Sweet Mickey's

The best food to me, other than jelly apples, was a red- hot sweet Mickey, direct from the hot coals.  This old man would come around Pleasant Avenue with a galvanized, steel chest the contained about eight drawers. 

In these drawers were sweet potatoes of many sizes.  The first two drawers had small Mickey’s that cost about one cent.  The next two drawers contained potatoes that cost about two cents.  The remaining drawers had potatoes that cost about three cents; these were the largest potatoes.

Check out Pleasant Avenue: The Way It Was on Amazon – Click Here

This old man would walk down the street pushing this steel chest down the street yelling, “Sweet potatoes for sale!”  When the old man approached me, even though I had a jelly apple, I said I must have a sweet Mickey.  I fumbled in my pocket to see if I could find any pennies.  I was very happy when I discovered that I had three pennies left.  I yelled to the man, “Stop! Gimmie a big Mickey, give me the big potato. “

My hand burned as I touched the potato because it was very hot when the old guy handed it to me. 

The old man shouts, “Don’t burn your lips.  It’s very hot!”  “I know, I know,” I said. Disregarding his advice, I start eating the potato and of course, burnt my lips.

Reprinted from: Pleasant Avenue: The Way It Was on Amazon – Click Here