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#clone troopers deserve better
st4r-t3ars · 2 months
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What… what happened?
Blackout Missions
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wanderinginksplot · 8 months
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I love him so much.
(Star Wars: The Clone Wars Season 6, Episode 2 - Conspiracy)
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clawedandcute · 1 year
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Concept (That I Will Write Someday): Shmi Skywalker is the Chosen One. But she works out her destiny not for the sake of the Republic but because DARN IT ALL there's going to be a war and this is not why she sent her son away with the Jedi! Cue Shmi and the Lars fam wreaking havoc on all of Palpatine's plans while they go after Anakin, following the guidance of Ar-Amu, an eldritch Force being who took a liking for both Tatooine and Shmi and who has no concept of a normal sentient interaction.
Featuring:
Ar-Amu terrifying everyone except Shmi and the Lars, who are used to her
A clone revolution on Kamino, led by Shmi
The subsequent kidnapping/adoption of Obi-Wan and Jango from Kamino
Anakin definitely having dreams about his amu but he has NO IDEA WHAT THE KRIFF THEY'RE ABOUT
Padme and Anakin causing problems for everyone by running off, getting married, and joining Hondo's pirate crew by accident
Shmi marching up to the Jedi Temple wanting to see her son
The Council, knowing that neither Anakin nor Obi-Wan are in the Temple, desperately paging every Jedi close to Anakin to go Deal With This
However, every Jedi close to Anakin is also the exact kind of Jedi who would immediately join Shmi's revolution
The Temple steps are getting kind of crowded
The Clone Wars are kind of over but no one knows what to do
Ar-Amu giving Dark Siders unintentional heart attacks (my sister's idea)
Palpatine having a bad day that lasts many months
Dooku being confused
Ventress getting adopted by more clone troopers
Everybody Lives/Nobody Dies (Except Probably Palpatine)
Shmi just wants to See Her Boy
Owen, Beru, and Cliegg have never met Anakin but darn it all if they're not ride or die for their step-family member anyway
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amberskyyking · 4 months
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Dying Isn't Very Regulation: Chapter 1
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Fives only wanted to do his duty... But as Echo would tell him, dying isn't very regulation.
Then again, neither is touching weird force shit. And his brother isn't here to stop him from doing either of those things today.
(Or, a self-indulgent 5 chapter fic inspired by Snapback by @toomanyteefs with Fives, because I have emotions about this and he deserves the world!)
Fives couldn’t stay. He couldn’t go back now as much as he wanted to, he was being pulled away and couldn't stop it. He hoped he had said enough, hoped that Rex believed him in the end. The lights enveloped him now, drawing him forward, making him squint. He wasn’t gone… merely marching far away. Rex would see him again, one day.
“Fives! Don’t go…”
The words were so faint that he may have imagined them, but his heart wrenched nonetheless, which was strange, since he couldn’t feel anything else…
And then he was nowhere, or so it seemed. He stood in silence as a gentle glowing mist encircled him with a pervasive sense of serenity and peace… But that wasn’t right. Fives blinked a couple of times and looked around.
Where were his brothers?
“Echo?” He spoke cautiously, waving a hand through the golden mist, as if his twin was hiding in the fog waiting to give him shit about how dying isn't very regulation, vod. But no reg-manual-waving smartass appeared. Fives frowned.
“Tup?” He called out a little louder. “Hardcase?”
Full Chapter (And Story!): Sometimes Life Just Blows Up In Your Face
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easwan · 8 months
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His Jedi's bed offers a better night's sleep than his military bunk.
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literallyjustanerd · 11 months
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Are you as inconsolable as I am about never getting to see what happened to Cody after he went AWOL?
GOOD, YOU SHOULD BE. And also, here's a fic about what I'm choosing to believe happened next.
Relationships: Commander Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Commander Cody & Captain Rex
Summary: Marshal Commander Cody has gone AWOL. Alone and on the run, he has nothing to guide him but the memories he struggles to confront, and the family he hopes he can reclaim. But that is not the only path calling to Cody. Obi-Wan is dead, at least officially, and yet, he cannot help but to hope. Already living on borrowed time, taking both paths may not be an option.
Read chapter one here or follow it on AO3 - any and all feedback is greatly appreciated!
***
            Marshal Commander Cody of the esteemed 212th battalion of the GAR has pawned his armour for a few credits. Laid out the pieces before a seedy-looking merchant in the dim lower levels. Even haggled over the price like a common scrapper. Worst of all, he cannot even muster the dignity to feel ashamed for it.  Scarcely has half a rotation passed since he threw all his honour to the wind and went AWOL. But already he is learning that if he is to survive, there is little room for anything more in his mind than pragmatism and a healthy paranoia. Not that guilt and doubt don’t still try to muscle in on the edges. Once again, he is affronted with the conjured image of his holofile, the bold red stamps that would by now be plastered across every data signature: AWOL. Deserter. Enemy of The Empire.
            It isn’t as if he had woken up that day with the express intent of abandoning his post. Though admittedly it had been a long time since he’d woken up feeling anything like a loyal soldier. His final weeks as Marshal Commander he had felt more like a pawn in a particularly brutal game of dejarik than a respected military veteran. He could feel it in all his brothers. The lurking unease, like the prickling at the back of your neck when you sense a sniper’s barrel trained on your back. And yet, on top of it, a thick blanket of haze that made those feelings impossible to face, turned your thoughts away from them the moment you tried to approach. He would march through his day, carrying out the orders that were given, thankful for the brief glimpses of peace that obedience would afford. It became almost meditative at times. Though he knew it should alarm him to feel his sense of self shrink in favour of acting without thought or question, he couldn’t seem to rein himself in. But at night, in the quiet of the barracks, his mind would wander, seek out those places that made his skin crawl and set his teeth grinding. The inexorable human impulse to poke at an open wound, just to feel the pain thrill through your veins. To be brazen and treacherous enough to wonder silently in your own mind if The Empire is really acting in your best interest. That wound is one of the deepest, has never been allowed to heal over before Cody prods at it again. But there are plenty of other scabs to pick.
            The reports all say that he is dead. He. The general. His general. Cody has had to fight especially hard against the pains in his head to even think those words. His name is still out of reach. He knows it, knows it as well as he knows himself. It may as well be etched into his armour with every other dent and blaster strike, carved like his scars into his very skin, and yet not since the moment that Order 66 had taken effect has he been able to say it. Not to anyone, not even to himself. The night before he left for that last mission to Desix, he had lain with lips parted until he had lost track of the seconds on the chrono, trying to force his mouth around the words. No sound came, and yet his lungs had emptied as though he had cried it out loud. Even when he read the reports –which he did repeatedly, a solemn ritual under the cover of night– his eyes would slide off the name like oil. Nonetheless, he knew the facts. Or what The Empire had decided would be the facts. His general, his traitorous, treasonous Jedi general, was dead. Though no body had been recovered. And reports were inconsistent about who had witnessed the supposedly fatal fall. Cody had seen all the Jedi perform far more death-defying feats than surviving the battle on Utapau. Force, his general had even been declared dead once before and returned days later with barely a scratch. His stride unbroken and the same serene smile on his face that left Cody with a new knife in his chest every time he pictured it.
            Desix had been the final straw. The last fistful of dirt on the grave of his faith. Faith in peace, faith in The Empire, faith in anything he or his vode had done in the years since their creation. Ames had not been the least bit surprised when the order of her execution was given. She had expected it from the start.
Peace was never an option.
And yet, she had softened at Cody’s words, let Cody wax about war and survival and deliberation (where had he learned to negotiate like that?) and respected him enough not to shoot him when he laid down his blaster. She wholly expected The Empire to kill her without thought or mercy, and yet, the hope of a ceasefire, of safety for her people, had been enough of a lure to let her release Grotten. A hope Cody had given her, and a hope that earned her nothing more than a blaster bolt to the chest. Perhaps he was punishing himself for his foolishness on the transporter back to Coruscant. Or maybe he had finally been given the push he needed to muscle through the pain and face what he had known from the beginning. Huddled in the corner, aching joints lowered to the floor, he had trained his breaths deep and slow, and plunged headfirst into the roiling sea of his memory, fighting the swell to get down deep. At first he was fumbling in the dark, grasping for something, anything solid, and the screeching dissonance in his head almost made him abandon the task altogether. But then, a glint in the distance. Something to latch onto, anchored far enough below the surface that the waves no longer hit quite so hard.
***
            “How you do it, I do not know.”
Outside. Orange sky. Gentle breeze, slight chill. Quiet.
“I only do what needs done, sir. You’re the one the men look to for assurance.”
The laugh that follows is not right. Meek and cynical where it should be soft and melodic. Cody aches.
“Assurance, I’m afraid, that is more often an act than it is genuine, my dear.”
“Sir?” A hand atop his, a warm weight. Is it really there? Or had Cody merely wished so hard for it that his fantasies have leeched into memory?
“The war is nearing its end. I know everyone here can sense that.” A shaky intake of breath, a furtive glance stolen to the side. “I have felt something in The Force. I cannot be sure what it means, I only… I fear the end of the war may not bring the peace we hope for.”
Cody opens his mouth to speak. No words come. This is not right.  A shuffle beside him. A face no longer in profile. It is hard to look him in the eyes – like staring too long into hyperspace.
“All of this to say, when I find myself at ends like this, it’s you I look to. Whenever I’m in need of something safe, something steadfast. You’re… a rock in the storm. For me, for all the men. They need you.” A pause. In reality perhaps only a moment. In memory it is a lifetime.
“As I need you, Cody.”
Lilac sky. Quiet. The air is still. And as clear as crystal, it is there. The name laid out in memory, falling from lips that now refuse to find it.
“And you’ll have me, Obi-Wan. Always.”
***
            He had woken the next morning after scarcely little sleep, the sun still buried far beneath the horizon. Silently, methodically, he had risen, gathered his things, and walked for the last time from his barracks. He had not paused before his feet crossed the threshold. He had not looked over his shoulder at the towering buildings with their painted-over insignias and walled-up memories. His feet took him through the streets, moving like a ghost to the nearest bank of elevators, and he had watched level 5127 slide up and out of view. For the first few hours he had managed to convince himself that he might have intended on returning. Even as all of his meagre belongings clattered in his pack with every step. Listless, he’d spent some time first wandering the streets and alleys, aimlessly turning corners and weaving further into the shadowy arms of Coruscant’s underbelly. Then, as lights flickered on in what passed for dawn on the lower levels, he slipped through the doors of a tiny speakeasy, the kind he used to reprimand his men for visiting during shore leave. A booth at the back was dark and secluded enough to take the edge off his fear at least momentarily. He spent seventeen of his forty-two credits on spotchka before he allowed himself to regret it. Twenty-four before he was allowed to realise that they would soon send troops after him. And a full thirty before he could finally approach the truth: he was never going back, and this departure was long overdue. CC-2224 was a wanted man.
            All of which left him with one final, looming question. He knew of clone deserters. Many. Some of his closest vode had come up on the daily reports as having slipped away in the night or disappeared during routine operations. Where they went next, how they paid their way, who they became… Cody had no hope of knowing. He was a soldier to the core of his being: his mind didn’t flex the way some of his brothers’ did. He knew little of the streets, the real world outside his insular military mindset. He knew how to plan an operation to take down a smuggler ship, not how to talk his way onto one. But unless he could get off Coruscant, he was a dead man walking. An example to be made to the other remaining clones, like the few captured deserters he’d seen before. The ones he’d forced himself not to look away from. The storm in his mind still rages, the water rising, and his chest tightens against the fear of drowning. From the depths another name rises, another he has fought to keep in his mind.
Rex is out there, somewhere. Reports had come in of his activity. They did not name him, and yet Cody knew immediately beyond any shadow of doubt. He could recognise Rex’s strategies from a mile away – fiercely clever and confoundingly crazy in equal measure. The Empire kept it quiet, not wanting to let slip that his numbers were increasing and their activities growing bolder. Weapons shipments disappearing. Counterfeit chain codes distributed to fugitives. An entire Imperial Freighter hijacked, once. Though he knew he was supposed to feel only contempt for such treasonous actions, Cody hadn’t been able to conjure anything but pride in his vod’ika, even before deserting. Now that he is allowed to think like a traitor, Cody allows himself a smile, his first in weeks, at the thought of seeing his brother again. Knowing Rex, though, finding him would be no easy feat. He was more cunning than Cody in espionage, always had been. His comms were airtight, his trails nonexistent. Making contact would be tantamount to impossible. Although not quite as impossible as the other thought tugging at Cody’s mind, the other path he felt himself being swayed towards. Regardless, both were pipe dreams until he got some credits together and left this planet far behind.
            So it is here that Cody finds himself. It isn’t even an argument in the end. He had expected some trepidation as he tried out the thought of selling his armour. But propriety and nostalgia are weak arguments against self-preservation. It only made sense. He is instantly recognisable in his armour. It weighs him down, and it’s worth the most by far of anything he had to sell.
A worn-out chime rasps through the pawn shop to signal his entry, and he somewhat awkwardly weaves his way to the counter at the back. His movements are still impeded, despite stripping his upper armour off to leave only his blacks. A surly twi’lek greets him with little more than a bare lift of an eyebrow. Could be that he isn’t the first clone deserter to find their way to her. Could be her profession demands she keep an unwavering demeanour. Or, it could be the death stick dangling at the corner of her mouth. It certainly explains the haze and smell permeating the cramped space.
“Selling or buying?”
Cody hefts the pack containing his helmet and upper armour to the bench.
“How much for the whole set?”
After a clumsy attempt at haggling, he relents on a price that seems at least halfway fair. Even throws in one of his larger blasters to sweeten the pot, only keeping the smaller, more easily-concealed pistols to himself. The twi’lek catches him off guard when she asks him for his name. She must sense his panic, the slightest twitch pulling at her mouth.
“Don’t worry. Doesn’t get shared with the seccers,” she said. “Don’t even have to be your real name. Just something you can give if you come back.” Cody can’t picture that ever happening. And yet, after a beat of silence, he speaks.
“Dar’ruus.” Nodding sluggishly, the twi’lek scrawls the name down on a stained sheet of flimsi. He spends the first part of his pay picking up a shirt, a pair of worn pants, and a jacket. Second-hand but sturdy, some type of synthetic animal hide. Dark colours, easy to blend in. He fastens the jacket up to the neck and pulls on the hood, but still, he feels bare. Raw and exposed, like a tauntaun with newly shed skin. The twi’lek regards him with the same steady disinterest as when he’d first entered, barely moving as he approaches the counter to pay for the clothes and a few basic supplies. His armour still sits next to the till, not yet put away. Gingerly, he runs his blaster-calloused fingers over the helmet’s top fin one last time, as if in apology, though he is unsure to what or to whom he is apologising most. When his fingers reach the end, tumbling from the once-golden crest, he takes a long, deliberate breath. He sets his jaw, straightens his back to raise his chin above the fog of guilt constricting his lungs, and does what he always has done: put one foot in front of the other, and trust that the plan, whatever it may be, will catch up with him.
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Clone Trooper Rambles
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Probably closer to maladaptive daydream than imaginary friends at this point, but we'll overlook it.
Warnings: Nerves, self-doubt, mentions of job dissatisfaction.
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Interview
I took a very necessary moment to fix my hair, arranging it in a manner that I hoped would look casual yet professional. One last smile in the mirror to check that there was nothing in my teeth. (My recent brushing should have made that a ‘no’, but it was better to be sure.) When everything was as perfect as I could make it, I stepped out of the bathroom. 
My laptop was already set up on Travis’s desk, perfectly framed by the bookshelf and plant behind it. I had plugged in the laptop’s charger in case things took longer than expected, and the meeting invitation was on the screen, waiting to be clicked. 
“So, you’re really doing this,” Rex commented as I sat down in Travis’s chair and smoothed my button-down shirt. 
“There was doubt?” I asked archly. 
He shrugged. “Just seems a little sudden.” 
“I realize you’ve been around for a while and you already know how things work,” I conceded. “But here’s something I’ve realized about the way I make decisions: I agonize over the choice for so long that, when I’ve made it, I’m all in.” 
“You have been talking about this for a while,” Cody pointed out. “It’s not arbitrary.” 
I nodded gratefully at him. The decision to find a new job hadn’t been one I took lightly. I had considered every option - Do I actually want a new job, or a different one in the same company? What happens if I regret it? Is this new company worth working for? How would getting this job impact my life? Would I be able to handle it? Is this something I want long term? - discussed it with my roommates and trusted family members, then finally applied. 
Even after I had applied, there were other requirements to fulfill: a barrage of personality tests, logic tests, tests to see whether I would be able to learn the intricacies of the company’s software, tests to find out whether I would fit in with the company’s culture… Somehow, I had passed them all. Well, I assumed I had, since I had finally gotten an interview. Then another.
This was to be my final interview, one with the manager and supervisor who I would be working with directly. 
“You nervous?” Alpha asked. 
I shrugged. “Not especially. I actually won an award in school for interviewing.”
“Interviewing?” Rex asked, frowning deeply. “There was a contest for that?” 
“Yeah, it was weird,” I admitted. “They pulled judges from local businesses. One of them said some pretty horrible things to me, trying to get me flustered or make me break down. It didn’t work.”
Cody crossed his arms. “How old were you?”
“I don’t really remember. Fifteen or so?” 
No one seemed happy about that, complete with uncharitable mutterings about the business owners in question. 
I fiddled with my computer, wiping the camera lens and adjusting the googly eyes I had stuck on either side of it. They had helped me hold ‘eye contact’ instead of staring at my screen during virtual presentations in college, and I hoped they would do the same for job interviews. 
“You can still back out,” Rex reminded me. 
I thought about it, I really did. This was something new, something unknown. Not only was it a new job, it was a new industry. It was a little scary, but what was the alternative? Going back to my current job for another week? Another month? Another year? I shuddered. 
��You can try for a different job with the same company,” Rex added, unaware of my internal monologue. “You like working for them. They’ve been good to you.” 
“I tried that, remember?” I pointed out. “I applied for seven jobs with them. Seven. And I was perfectly qualified for all of ‘em.” Alpha opened his mouth and I nodded. “Except that one. Yeah, I remember. But my point stands. I didn’t even get to the first round of interviews. If I’m not what they’re looking for, that’s fine. But I have a degree and I want to use it. More importantly, I need something new. Does that… make sense?” 
I hated how hesitant I sounded. Hated how hesitant I felt. But no matter how much I had thought it all over, I was worried this was a stupid decision. Maybe Rex was seeing something I had missed.
“It does make sense,” he assured me. “If you’re really set on this… Then get to it. You’ve got this.” 
When I glanced down, I found that it was indeed time for my interview to start. I flashed a quick smile at Rex, Cody, and Alpha, then started the video call.
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Author's Note - It's a busy time of year over on my other side-blog, so I've been neglecting things here. Sorry about that! I'm going to try to start posting more regularly now than February is finally wrapping up.
Thanks for reading! Quick reminder: I no longer offer a taglist. Everything I post on this account will be a piece of my own writing, tagged with whatever story it belongs to. Feel free to follow a tag or this account to see my works!
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brokenphoenix99 · 23 days
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COMMENT Bingo
Here's my 20th Fill and ANOTHER BINGO for @feedthefandomfest Comment Bingo!
Square filled: Comment on a fic with Under 50 hits (21 hits at time of reading) (comment waiting approval)
FIC: we seed the stars
By loverboy_havocboy on ao3, @loverboy-havocboy
(Clone trooper Boost.Internal Monologue, Malevolence Arc (Star Wars: Clone Wars), Grief/Mourning, Clone Troopers Deserve Better (Star Wars), Loss of Faith, Family Loss, Canon Compliant, Mentioned 104th Battalion | Wolfpack Battalion (Star Wars: The Clone Wars), Whump, Angst and Tragedy)
Summary: Boost wanted to pretend they were stars, but he knew the truth. Those were his brothers. His friends. The only family he'd ever had.
Does it count if the majority of your comment is just CRYING gif reactions???? Because i honestly could NOT DO WORDS!!! 😭😭😭 I was crying throughout this. AaAaaaa Havoc's writing rips your heart out and it HURTS SO GOOD???? 😅 All the WHUMP 😏 So Mind the tags!
Me, while reading......... ⬇️
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Bingo Card Under the cut
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blackat-t7t · 2 years
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Do you think baby clones had, like, numbers sewn into their clothes so they could be easily identified, especially when they were too young to know their own numbers? So the nurse droids never put them back in the wrong cribs, or something? Like preschoolers with nametag stickers their backs, where the adults can read them but the other kiddos can't XD
Or would the kaminoans have just had a stock of identical communal clothing that got washed together and redistributed randomly, and handed down as the babies outgrew them? Because why would they bother to make anything specifically for one clone when they have millions of them all growing twice as fast as normal kids :/
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gun-roswell · 8 months
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Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: CT-9904 | Crosshair/Clone Commander Mayday, CT-9904 | Crosshair & Clone Commander Mayday Characters: Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Clone Commander Mayday (Star Wars), CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Tech (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) Additional Tags: Soft Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Crosshair does laugh, Some Fluff, Family time, Pabu Island (Star Wars), Fix-It, POST TBB S2, Family Feels, Clone Troopers Deserve Better (Star Wars), Developing Relationship, Shipping Series: Part 7 of Crosshair/Mayday Summary:
Set somewhere in Star Wars the Bad Batch and the Clone Wars galaxy, in the Multiverse of Star Wars Fan Fiction by Yours Truly.
Crosshair does have laugh lines. 
Yes, you heard me right! The sniper does or rather did laugh. At least in the past.
After being rescued together with Commander Mayday, the duo has taken residence with the rest of the squad with several other rescued clones on the island of Pabu.
And then something unexpected happens, surprising the rest of the team.
Part of Crosshair/Mayday Series

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sleepystawbie · 2 years
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I hate the Empire so much more because of seeing that Clone. Fuck. FUCK YOU PALPY!
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st4r-t3ars · 3 months
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you can rest now, commander
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wanderinginksplot · 2 months
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In appreciation of Captain Fordo
This man has me cackling as I'm trying to watch the 2-D animaled Clone Wars. Easily the most dramatic captain on the battlefield, but at least he knows his angles.
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I'm in love. Why didn't they put Fordo in more stuff?
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airlockfailure · 2 years
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Dark Clone Wars/Invictus AU Headcanon
Within the Invictus AU I headcanon that initially the Kaminoans would decommission clones for anything that might rupture their carefully laid out conditioning and brainwashing. But after Geonosis, despite the victory, the numbers didn't add up. The Kaminoans were not going to be able to meet demand for more bodies if they kept getting rid of every little flaw that might compromise Sidious' plan (and yes, I headcanon the Kaminoans were in on it, they had to be, in order to make the chips in the first place). So as the war went on, they decommissioned less and less clones until Fox exposes the practice and it's outlawed.
The med stations were set up, not to keep clones alive, because there's room and staffing on a Venator for that, but as pure propaganda. All the older clones know, you don't want to be shipped to a med station. You only end up on a med station if you can't fight, and if you can't fight, they're going to decommission you. Eventually.
The clone medics who work on these med stations are not privy to Kaminoan decisions, but they are well aware of clones who were fine yesterday are not in their bunks today.
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amberskyyking · 2 months
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Dying Isn't Very Regulation: Chapter 9
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Five's isn't prepared to see Echo again, but he isn't about to wait another minute, either.
(Or, a self-indulgent 5 9 16?? chapter fic inspired by Snapback by @toomanyteefs with Fives and Ninety-Nine, because I have emotions about this, they deserves the world, and the narrative has officially run away with me!)
How would Fives explain why he ran that day at the Citadel? That he hadn’t checked, that he’d just followed orders and fled, while Echo had been alive somewhere in the carnage? Sure, he had realized his mistake after seeing his vod’s agonized face in that orb, he had left behind whatever afterlife awaited him to chase the possibility that Echo was still out there with no hesitation, but it was too little too late. Echo had been captured, he had suffered, and Fives wasn’t even the one to come save him. Rex found a way back to him, in the end. Echo knew by now that Fives had left him for dead at the citadel, that he had broken their first rule, the one that Domino Squad nearly failed their training because of. It was his own fault that his twin had fallen into enemy hands. How must that have felt for Echo to realize? Had he known right away, or only after Rex tore him out of that kriffing stasis chamber? Did the Techno Union peel that thought out of his head themselves, was the memory stored in their databanks somewhere? Or did Echo not know until he was finally free? 
Fives gulped hard, starting to feel sick. Echo would have heard about Fives’s own death, too, once he came back. Would he have mourned him, after everything he went through? Kark, would he even want to see him again? Fives wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. 
Fives’s breath was coming in rapid spurts for more reasons than just the brisk pace Rex set, but suddenly, Rex held up a hand and halted. At the other end of the near empty hall, a group of troopers sat huddled together, all eyes locked on Rex’s location from the moment they rounded the corner. If it weren’t for their armor, Fives wouldn’t have been sure that they were clones at all. They didn’t look like most of his brothers, or at least, a couple didn’t. Some were much smaller than the other vode he’d seen around here, too. One, though, stood out among the others. A younger version of a familiar face, pale, with painful looking cybernetics and ports sticking out from his head…
“Echo,” Rex said cautiously, “This is going to sound impossible, but-”
“Fives?” Echo gawked, eyes glistening.
Full Chapter (And Story!): This Is A Set, Do Not Separate
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indira-korr · 1 year
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Hey there friend! For the WIP Word game, could I please try "scream" and "pain"
(oof, appears I'm in an angst mood 🤭) Thanks! :-D
Hiya friend 🤗
It looks like there is not a single 'scream' in my WIPs. I let my characters suffer in silence, like the monster that I am. 😅
The only 'pain' I can offer at the moment is this:
"Come on, why do you even care? Clearly he doesn’t. You told him his brother is going to suffer and eventually die a horribly painful death, and he barely even reacted. They’re little more than meat droids. Do yourself a favor and stop getting invested. Just patch up the ones you can, and send them on their way. You’ll sleep better."
Oof that's horrible. But you asked me to bring the pain, so... 😶‍🌫️
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