#shebse

[redbean-nom]

Cadets

(aka trash children, chaos children, and children who understand 98 is getting graded on this)

Inspired by @thefoundationproject! Closeups under the cut:

jesse got this pic from jangotat:

[sixtysixproblems]

i have no fucking clue what I'm doing but here's some shebse batch/cc batch as posts

[chiliger]

Okay, of the Clone Command Batch (Shebse Sqad if you will) who was the weird kid?

I’m talking the kid who just stands at the doorway in the middle of the night, who says the craziest creepy stuff imaginable a la no filter intrusive thoughts, the one whose imaginary friend turns out to be a ghost.

[chaseerr0rcode]

I’m kinda on a Clone rebellion kind of kick right now

So…Clone fans on the Clone side of the Clone wars fandom does anyone have any really good fic recs about all the clones just getting up and leaving Kamino and starting a new society?

I seen a few fics on it, but I kinda craving more

[jymiie]

😮‍💨 i really should get my sideblog up and running bc thats where i was gonna write and make my hcs—

smh this MIGHT happen soon so,,,, @staryvante 👀👀 might have so add on hc’s for my fav commander fox blog (aka @commanderfoxdeservesbetter ma’am/sir, ily you and your wonderful mind for kicking my my writing muse in gear)

[tarre-was-right]

ROUND ONE: MATCH-UP EIGHT

Remember, this is NOT about who would win in a fight. This is about who makes the best leader for Mandalore as a whole.

Explanation post

Seeding

Propaganda below the cut! You can submit more on this post and I will reblog it back to here!

ALPHA-17

@ihuntmonsters: He’s uhhh super badass and sexy and kicks ass and is really awesome and I’m in love with him Perfect propaganda yes. He shall lead Mandalore

Anon: He's pretty good with training children! He is very good at inspiring loyalty! He is very willing to go after sith lords with just his teeth if he has to!

Anon: Vote for Alpha he’s got Cody’s thighs, Fox’s tits and Wolffe’s ass. He’s also a DILF, if you consider the shebse squad/command batch headcanons. And who wouldn’t want a Mand'alor like that?

Anon: Alpha-17 would be a great mandolorian leader I mean look at those Pecs! What else do u need in a leader?

Anon: HERES WHY ALPHA-17 FOR THE WIN: HE WILL ASSASSINATE ALL OF THE OTHER POLITICAL FIGURES WHICH MEANS DEAD SKEVY SHEEVY PALPATINE AND WHO DOESNT WANT THAT?

Anon: What a guy. I love him so much. He's such an asshole. Alpha-17 was part of the second test batch of clones of Jango Fett, one of a group of 100, and as such he was trained directly by Jango Fett in the art of war; these early batches who had more contact with their Mandalorian trainers are commonly considered to have a stronger claim to 'Mandalorian-ness' because of this exposure and learning experience than clones from the later, larger batches

Anon: Propaganda for Alpha 17: tall

Anon: Alpha-17 should rule Mandalore because a good king doesn’t want the power of the throne and he does not want that at all. also he’s the funniest choice. might have the skills to not get killed by maul

JANGO FETT

Anon: Jango became Mand'alor (according to Legends) at the tender age of 15 immediately after the death of his adopted father Jaster Mereel. While another of Mereel's men (Montross) made a grab for the position Jango brought up the betrayal Montross had done to Mereel causing the older man's death. The other Haat Mando'ade fell in behind Jango as he had become Jaster's Legacy. He led the Haat Mando'ade for 8 years and seemed prosperous. - And then Galidraan happened, between poisoned information and tensions being high between the Jedi and Mandalorians it only took a spark for it all to be blown to hell.

Anon: Jango was trained to be Jaster's successor to the title of Mand'alor from the time he was adopted at about 8 years of age, following the death of his blood family - when Jaster was killed, Jango was chosen by their people to step into the role despite being a young teenager at the time, suggesting that he was already known to be a good leader, and one who had earned their loyalty and trust over even Jaster's formerly-trusted second-in-command - while his time in the position was short, he did seem to command great loyalty and respect from his followers, although his focus seemed to have been more on their faction's mercenary work than on serving as a ruler or even cultural figurehead for the people of Mandalore at large - regardless, Tor Vizsla saw him as enough of a threat to his own claim to the throne to seek his swift removal from the political field - even after having disappeared from the field of politics for years following the incident at Galidraan, many Mandalorians still answered his call to come and serve as trainers for the GAR, suggesting that they took his claim seriously as well

Anon: Jango Fett, while a man of many mistakes, inherited the role of Mando'alor from Jaster and tried to do the same as he did: honour their past, move forward and provide for their people - He took care of Montross and tried his best to protect the people who followed him, to make sure they had a future and didn't fall apart and get scattered to the winds again.

@lightsaberwieldingdalek: I mean. Jango’s got the best brand recognition? Absolutely everyone for centuries with recognise the Jango Fett look, and that army that Jango was kinda sort of responsible for did conquer at least half the galaxy, just…. Not in the name of mandalore

[tattycoram]

Person who’s interrogating Rex: So Captain Rex, I have heard that you and Commander Fox were batch mates? Do you know where he learned to the attics he used to take down the Chancellor?

Captain Rex: Well Senator, you see….

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flashback

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alpha-17: So kids here’s 20 ways to why and how to kill politicians.

Alpha-17: I have made you each this picture guide

The Command/Shebse Squad: Ooooooooh

Alpha-17: Don’t eat the pages. I watching you Wolffe, if I catch you eating the precious flimsi I managed to make these little booklets with, your running laps until you collapse.

Wolffe: *is in the middle of putting the booklet in his mouth but decides to wisely put the booklet back down*

omg Wolffe no i love you

but Fox passed that class with flying colours, Alpha-17 was so proud!!

[spiralingemptyness]

I want more… clone hc pt. 2

why not more hc, I’m bored and wanna ramble… sorry if I repeated any.

99 is the best vode, he knows everything. If a brother is said, he’ll hug them, give words of encouragement and stuff and a mysteriously some illegal contraband that whatever the clone likes will randomly show up.

Shaak ti is buff and can hold her own if not demolish the Alphas on the training mats (The Rancor battalion found that out the hard way)

Jek, Rys and Thire became close after the mission with Yoda, Thire is still close with the commanders on Coruscant, but he’s even closer with the other two

While Hound may be a sergeant, he’s still an honorary commander member, he became the little brother of the group

…Thorn didn’t die on Scipio, nope, no way. Amidala saved him, always carrying a blaster or smth.

Dogma became really good at braiding hair because of all the time he braided Tups hair, so after Umbara when he definitely goes to Coruscant, Amidala finds out and sometimes ask him to do her hair.

Colt may essentially be Buir of Kamino, but all the alphas (especially 17) out Buir him, and it can be very comedic how a big burly alpha is hauling a ARC commander just to force them to sleep.

Fox absolutely denies or threaten to black mail shebse squad if they bring up the fact Fox was the first to fold and call Alpha-17 buir.

Colt and Wolffe have regular holo-calls just to shit talk Ventress.

Rex got adopted into Shebse squad after he bit Cody (Wolffe was proud)

When Kix is on shift in medbay, most of the time Jesse is there with him, he doesn’t have to be their but he’s a good batch mate.

Each shebse squad member have a quirk in fighting droids: Cody punches and spin kicks them, Wolffe bits them, Rex throws his blasters at them if they run out of ammo, Fox for some reason carry’s a high voltage taser, Bly drop kicks them, and Ponds throws rocks at them to catch them off guard

On multiple occasions animals like Loth cats and Tookas have been snuck on board the venators and multiple times have had to been taken off board

Fives has a girly scream, Torrent found out after he was caught singing in the barracks

Comet (and Plo Buir) can convice Wolffe to take care of himself (little brother privileges), unlike Boost, Warthog, and Sinker who have to sedate him of physically haul him away from the bridge

MEDICS GIVE STICKERS, if a your a good patient, you get a sticker. So there is a lot of vode with stickers inside or outside there armor

Colt keeps himself loaded with weapons, many different types of blasters, check. Lots of vibroblades and vibroswords (that he stole from commando droids), check. It will take a solid 10 mins for him to de-weapon himself

after Khorm, Plo threatened Captain Ozzel…. It was terrifying, Kit Fisto was both shocked and absolutely scared of getting on Plo Koons bad side.

Monnk collects different shells and rocks from the ocean floor and give them to different vode

kit fisto taught his battalion how to fish, just randomly, out of the blue he said they were going fishing and they went fishing

Ashoka definitely stole the ‘I’m no Jedi’ line from Rex.

everyone form the 212th and some 501st members were more traumatized by a bold Kenobi than the fact he faked his death to be a bounty hunter for a time period

kix has trouble staying warm after the cyro-freeze, like he’ll be bundled up in layers on tatooine

quinlan snuck into fox’s office once and was hit with a data pad on the head when he scared him and got himself a concussion, safe to say he doesn’t sneak up on fox anymore

clones have a sweet tooth

Once Hound got hurt while chasing a suspect and Grizzer went absolutely feral on the person who hurt him, it took Thorn and Stone just to separate him from the suspect, (fox and thire were just watching in shock as they helped hound)

padawans always use vents for travel (ex. Echo: where’s the commander. Fives casually: oh she’s in the vents. Echo: oh.. WHY IS SHE IN THE VENTS)

(Might be in the other one) The corrie guard have a bet everytime a battalion is on leave, the bet is: which members of what battalion will have the most in the drunk tank.

medics have to have a smex-ed meeting with every new shiny that boards

Bly (respectfully, cause he is a gentleman) asked Aayla to wear armor, the next day she was wearing Bly’s spare armor. Bly couldn’t stop blushing the whole day and it made his tattoos orange

When one or more of the Shebse squad is on leave, they bully fox into going to 79’s with them or to take care of himself. Safe to say, that whenever that happens the corrie guard can relax a bit

the most annoying patients for medics is any CO or jedis, all medics curse like sailors

when Kix was a medic shiny he hadn’t yet mastered the disapproval stare or the ‘shut the kark up and do what I say’ stare, so the vode listened to him just because it was so cute and funny, they quickly learned to stop thinking like that.

once after a battle Obi-Wan found Cody lying star fished on his back, he kicked a droid and broke his foot and collapsed once his foot gave out. Obi-wan just sighed, forced healed his foot a bit and carried him to the medics (Cody was turned into a sputtering and flustered mess)

Rex was already being corrupted by Skywalker’s tendencies when he was just a lieutenant in the 212th, Cody was horrified and wanted to bash his head into the wall.

Boil and Waxer secretly adopted Numa after Ryloth, each just co-parenting her

Kids on coruscant would sometimes come up to a guard member and hand them a paper of a drawing, ask for a hug, or just give them goodies. The guard now has a wall full of drawings given to them by kids in the barracks

the guard have stupid names for operations, it’s just a serious op about observing and trying to take down a drug ring (with vos’s help) and it has a name like “operation: too high to fly”

the cadets will hang off from any limb they can reach of their clone trainers and shaak ti

medics will lay on a cot with an injured clone on it to help them sleep, they’ll either be sleeping with them or doing data work

so yah… I’ll make more. Might make some of cod, fnaf , Dc, etc. as well and try to do art as well

[runekirikjartan]

Coruscant Guard Structure

So I've been restructuring the Coruscant Guard to my liking since I'm taking canon's classification of them as a corps and shoving it up their shebse. So here's some notes of the GAR's structure as a Sector Army being led by my 25 Command Class Troopers.

A short ramble with accompanying screenshots under the cut.

The Coruscant Guard is a sector army consisting of four corps (147, 456) troopers, most commonly led by a Senior Jedi General. Each corps consisted of approximately thirty-seven thousand troopers (36,864). A corps was commonly led by a Marshal Commander and a Jedi General. The Coruscant Guard however, does not have aJedi General, and is led by Marshal Commander CC-1010 “Fox”, reporting directly to Supreme Chancellor Palpatine.

Four Primary Corps - Four Primary Objectives. A Corps primarily consisted of four legions (36,864 troopers).

Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center

Diplomatic Escort Group

Rapid Response Force

Homeworld Security/Law Enforcement

I am of course sourcing numbers from the legends numbers for the GAR just so I have a generic base to start with but I cannot get down with only having about 37k troopers who were supposedly having their forces halved for Diplomatic escorts off Coruscant alongside Planetary defence and Homeworld security.

And a Sector Army should have a jedi but clearly the Guard doesn't so instead they have an abnormally high number of CC/Command Class troopers that take up primary lead roles within the Guard and it's structure on Triple Zero.

I have to zoom out ridiculously far to even show this spreadsheet on one screen too.

This is also, not as in depth as my major oc spreadsheet (it's 1am and the urge to restructure my spreadsheet of almost 400+ corries hit at midnight - will add more when i'm not sleepy).

[redbean-nom]

the fox-and-ponds-adoption slice of the soft wars family not-tree

(it expands approximately outwards, because clone generations make for an absurdly wide tree if you map it normally. blue names are are soft wars eu, red hearts are canon relationships, and purple hearts are eu relationships. circles are squads and grey lines are adoptions.)

[thefoundationproject]

I just reread a big chunk of soft wars (my favorite comfort fic) and was wondering, where does Rex sleep after the shebs adopt him? Do they move an extra bed into the dorm or does ponds get to cuddle every night?

First off thank you 6000% for calling it a fic unlike those dreadful detractors who keep giving me sideeye whenever I say it's totally a three-shot.

Secondly: Rex absolutely 1000% does the fake sleep move the first few times, forcing Shebse between having to carry him somewhere or leaving him to sleep on whichever bunk he decides. It was Cody's for a while, then when Cody went through his falling-out-of-bed phase, he moved to Ponds out of self-preservation most times. He'd occasionally deign to take half (70% actually I fully believe he sleeps like a beached starfish) of Bly or Wolffe's. (And if that's more likely to happen if they had a bad day then that's totally coincidence, Ponds was just super snorey that night).

Once 17 realizes no he's really not actually going away, Rex does get his own bunk but every now and then he'll still "fall asleep" somewhere else. Bly constantly and loudly calls him out on it but leaves him, Wolffe constantly uses the toe-tickle-test and if Rex passes will let him stay, Ponds or Cody just scooch him far enough over so they have room. 17 has one rule: if he has to move you to get to his blanket he's gonna move you directly to the floor in the hallway. So Rex learns how to "accidentally drift off to sleep" fully under the blanket on 17's bunk. This was the Shebse's earliest warning on what Rex considers subtle.

[hastalavistabyebye]

Would you share what's in shebse batch real face? (´꒳ `)?

This is the one I've forgot about until I've found it again yesterday night 😅

It comes from the idea that not many people really knows how can this command batch be. All of them have their reputations (sometimes very wrong), their masks, their commanding personna.... And on and on and on. So not many people know their true personality.

Except for Rex. He has been adopted by this batch. And he has access to their group chat. He knows.

Here's a lil (not yet edited at all) bit of it :

People saw this Commanding batch, they saw Ponds, Fox and Cody, and would think they were a batch of hardworking, stick up the ass, by-the-book commanders. They'd be seen as warmer or colder, varying between nice to asshole, but still be considered as highly competent, scrupulous people. Even Bly who appeared the most easy going of them was still known to be as assiduous as the others. Wolffe wasn’t really an exception either, his statistics were answers enough.

[literallyjustanerd]

Scenes From The Caf Hall

So I had a lot of ideas for fun clone shenanigans but none substantial enough for full fics, so I put them into a sort of montage of moments I like to believe have gone down in the GAR caf at mealtimes. No consistency in timeline, just some harmless clone fun. Enjoy!

Note: one of these scenes references there being an abundance of Chancellor Palpatine biopics in the Star Wars universe. I saw someone mention that that would be funny in a text post once but try as I might I cannot find who that was. If you know what I'm talking about please let met know so I can credit them for the inspiration!

“I’m not kriffing drinking it, Fives. I won’t do it.” Fives lets out a low, pained groan as he drops his tray on one of the benches, head lolling back in a heavy circle over his shoulders. “Then don’t,” he says, for at least the third time. Echo pays him no mind. He may as well be speaking to himself. “Why would they change it? The one good thing I could count on every day, but no, let’s take that away, too. Kriffing Republic budget cuts. Kriffing quartermasters…” Hardcase is already grinning when he joins the two, watching in amusement as Echo’s rant fades to a low, sharp muttering. “What is it this time?” he asks, sounding almost excited. Echo is too busy stabbing at his salad like he wants to draw blood to answer.

“They changed out the brand of tea in the stores,” Fives says, head propped up on his fist. A hand slapped across Hardcase’s chestplate accentuates his feigned shock. “Not your precious Tarine!” he gasps. “What would they ever replace that with?” Oblivious or uncaring of Hardcase’s mocking tone, Echo’s fury is reignited. “Generic brand.” He spits the words like poison and scowls at the taste they leave in his mouth. Like they’re profanity. Which is ironic given how he continues; “I’ll be karked nine ways into the void before those shabuire make me drink the osik’la generic brand.” “Nobody’s making you drink it, Echo,” Fives reminds him, though by now he’s resigned, fully aware that he is little more than background noise. Echo growls at his tray. A couple of nearby shinies speed their steps to hustle past their table.

“Personally, I could never taste the difference,” Jesse pipes up. He’s so unfazed by the scene that nobody had even noticed him sit down. Fives sighs. That was not the right response. “The difference is night and day!” Echo blurts, voice surely close to reaching the upper limits of pitch. “They’re making us drink dirt water!” “Not making you,” Fives mumbles. “We lay down our lives for their war every day and this is how they repay us?” “Bit dramatic.” “We work our shebse off and you’re telling me I can’t even get a decent brew after an eighteen hour shift?” Fives pauses, tilts his head. “Yeah, no, okay. That’s fair.” At last, Echo acknowledges his presence in the form of a single, righteous nod.

Across the table, Hardcase flashes that look like a child about to poke a sleeping loth cat. “Why not just drink caf instead?” Echo falls deadly silent, eyes narrowed to a slit. His response is whip-fast. “Why don’t I just shoot you right here?”

***

“Telling you, things got wild that night. Don’t remember most of it, of course, but man, it was fun.” Waxer’s pride swells at the awed gazes across the table. His new 212th vod’ike, the gold on their armour barely dry, eyes wide with awe and demanding to know more of their superiors’ exploits. It’s like a drug, the wonder and admiration, and by now the 212th veterans know the best way to get it. Battle stories were great for gaining respect, sure, but if you wanted to really wow your rookies, stories of shore leave misadventures were far more effective.

“We woke up the next morning in a motel room on the lower levels,” Boil recounts with a grin. “No clue how we got there.” “What about the twi’leks?” one shiny demands, on the edge of his seat. “The ones from 79’s, what happened to them?” Waxer and Boil share a smirk, and Waxer delivers the kicker. “No idea,” he chuckles. “But they each left one of their numbers written on our vambraces.” “I really oughta call him sometime,” Boil muses. “See if they’re free again for this New Years’.” “She really was something else,” Waxer affirms. The shinies have gone silent before them, smiles wiped clean and suddenly sitting bolt upright. It takes the lieutenants a painfully long moment to realise why.

“Sorry to interrupt, troopers,” Cody says from behind the pair, sending bolts of ice through their veins, “but this wouldn’t happen to be last New Year’s you were talking about, would it?” Waxer and Boil both fall over themselves, mumbling sheepishly in the affirmative. “Interesting…” Cody hums. “Because I seem to remember things taking place differently.” “O-oh, is that… Is that right, Commander?” Waxer sputters, and tries immediately to move the conversation on. Cody doesn’t let it. “That’s right. As I recall, the two of you had to be carried out of 79’s well before New Year struck, and sent back to the barracks in a cab, drunk off your sorry faces.” Boil swallows audibly. He too is cut off when he tries to speak. “Can’t remember which one of you it was who was crying at the time, though.” His face is trained, his smile thoroughly measured, though his amusement is still glaringly clear. “Strange how our memories play up, isn’t it?”

He leaves it at that, and turns to walk away. One of the shinies, evidently a bold one, pipes up from the table, much to the horror of his batchmates. “Commander,” he calls, and Cody pauses in his step, turns back to face them. “How would you know what happened that night, unless… unless you were at 79’s, too?” After a moment’s pause, Cody merely flashes a grin. He turns to walk away, throwing one last comment over his shoulder: “Welcome to the 212th, boys.”

***

It’s been on Jesse’s mind for a while, but only now does he get the chance to bring it up. “There are three pieces of cake on your tray,” he says. Kix doesn’t look up from his work, datapad in one hand and sandwich in the other. He looks tired, but then, Kix always looks tired. “Very observant, vod. Good job.” “You got out of night shift last week.” “Mhmm.” “And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you on fresher duty.” “Okay?”

Jesse rolls his eyes, peeling the lid off his preserved jogan fruit. As if to illustrate his intended point, another trooper passes by their table and surreptitiously slides a pack of biscuits across to Kix like it’s a drug deal. When Jesse’s raised eyebrow gets no response, he clears his throat pointedly. Kix finally stops tapping away at his pad. “Why does everyone keep giving you their stuff?” Jesse demands. He doesn’t like the responding smirk that passes across Kix’s face. “Why do you think?” he asks, amusement tinging the edges of his words. Jesse sighs, lacking the energy to play this game. “Would I be asking if I knew?”

The look Kix gives is weary, bemused. He drags a hand over his eyes and takes a short, sharp breath, then begins. “Being a medic sucks.” “…Uh-huh?” “Long hours, always on call, the datawork never ends. People expect me to heal three-inch stab wounds in three minutes.” Jesse’s brow furrows, hoping there’s a point to this beyond his brother’s bitching “I’m… sorry?” “But as much of a pain in the gett’se as it is,” he says, finishing the sentence around a mouthful of cake, “being in charge of keeping all you di’kute alive it has its upsides.” Jesse can only roll his eyes. “Quit being so mysterious and get to the point.” Kix sighs sharply. “Jesse, I haven’t paid for a drink in over two years.” But the dots remain unconnected, Jesse’s expression still perplexed.

Begrudgingly, Kix sets the datapad down on the table and adjusts so he’s fully facing Jesse. He scrolls back on the pad through a plethora of files until he finds one. Jesse suddenly feels like a cadet again, called into his sergeant’s office. “0742 hours. Morning after last year’s Festival of Stars. You presented to medbay. Do you remember what for?” Kix needn’t have asked the question: a searing flush has already flooded Jesse’s skin, one that draws a sadistic grin from his vod. “Don’t worry, I’ve seen it a hundred times before and since. Never in that place, though...” Jesse’s head is in his hands as Kix continues. “Didn’t know how you’d managed it at first. Course, you told me the whole story. Spotchka and pain meds are great at loosening tight lips.”

“You kept that on file?” Jesse says in a strangled whisper. Kix shrugs, unfazed. “I’m required by Republic protocol to keep a record of all assessments and procedures carried out.” Jesse’s eyes fall to the extra cakes on Kix’s tray. Kix’s smile grows, tapping his datapad proudly. “And I carry out a lot of procedures.” Jesse curses under his breath, eyes wide in the dawning realisation. “How much dirt do you have on us?” he breathes, caught somewhere between awe and abject horror. Leaning his elbows on the table, Kix raises an eyebrow and grins.

“All of it, vod. You boys are animals,” he chuckles. “The things I’ve seen…” “You mean like—” “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s worse.” “What about—” “Worse.” “You don’t mean—” Kix leans further forward over the table, tilting his head down at Jesse. “Worse.”

Jesse swallows, leans back in his seat and acquiesces to Kix’s warning look. As much he itches to dig further, he knows Kix is probably doing him a favour by keeping the details obscured. “So. There you go. Maybe I get out of fresher duty. But with what I see on a daily basis, I think I’m within my rights to a few gratuities in exchange for my discretion about certain topics,” he says. “Like someone’s very inventive use of contraband fireworks…?” An uncomfortable silence falls between them, dragging on until Kix finally breaks it, eyeing Jesse’s tray. “Say, that jogan fruit looks—” Jesse’s handing it over before Kix has finished the sentence.

***

“Eight times in the last week he’s lost it. Three in one day, once. One of these days I’m going to weld that blasted saber to his hand.” Rex is slumped in his seat, shaking his head at the table. His brothers all murmur their commiserations around him, in various states of consciousness. Beside him, Cody jolts upright after almost falling face-first into his mug of caf for the fourth time. Ponds puts down the spoon he’s been using to mindlessly stir his porridge for the last ten minutes straight. “Least your general lets you have fun. General Windu makes us do weapons inventory and maintenance in every single minute of free time,” he grouses. Rex huffs. “I wish General Skywalker would order us to do weapons maintenance. I’m the only reason anything gets done in the 501st.” He gets a few affirming moans, half-hearted complaints about their own generals neglecting the more unglamorous responsibilities of commanding a battalion.

“You all have it easy.” It’s Fox who throws in next, hauling himself up from where he had been splayed across Wolffe’s back. He waves away the answering protests with a lazy hand. “Didn’t you go to the theatre last night?” Bly retorts. The disdain in his voice gives away his expression, which remains unseen; he’s on his back on the floor beside the table. The jab gives Fox a sudden burst of vindictive energy. “I did, Bly. I did go to the theatre last night. And do you know what I saw?” he says. “I saw another kriffing biopic on Chancellor kriffing Palpatine’s noble and heroic rise to power.” He spears a fillet of grey meat on his tray. “If I have to sit through another minute of some actor the Chancellor wishes he looked like making an empowered speech about the sacrifices he’s made for his people, you’ll all see me at the tribunal when I’m court marshalled and decommissioned.” The others say nothing, dredging up little more than sympathetic winces or groans. A few note that Fox’s hair seems just a little greyer than it did the last time they met up.

“General Kenobi jumped off a cliff on our last assignment on Onderon,” Cody offers a short time later to break the silence. He’s barely lucid enough to mumble the words. Nobody is at all surprised by the report. After a long draw from his caf, Cody continues, seeming bored by his own words. “Found him at the bottom totally unharmed and petting a bogwing. Asked him how he knew it would be there and let him ride it down, and do you know what he said?” The vode raise their weary voices to join him in chorus for the answer: “He didn’t know it would be there.”

Silence again. Someone snores, though it’s impossible to tell who and nobody can be bothered to try. Those awake enough to think straight mourn the state of the evening so far. It was a small miracle that this many of them were all in the one place to begin with. They’d planned for drinks at 79’s after dinner. And maybe they’d still rally and somehow make it out there. Maybe, with enough caf and the GAR’s famous resolve. But for now, they’re a sorry sight to behold. Soundly and thoroughly defeated. “Why does General Yoda talk like that...?” It’s Gree, his voice a pained whimper, muffled against the table. The question is directed at nobody. “Nothing he says makes any sense. He doesn’t need to talk like that.” Bly’s hand appears from below to pat his vod’s shoulder. With a shaking breath, Gree asks it again, barely a child’s pitiful sob: “Why does he talk like that?”

A little more moaning later, they seem to come to the consensus that their Jetiise (and Chancellor) were just confounding and infuriating by nature, and that they were tragically and inescapably doomed to a life dealing with their bantha shit. “They’re hopeless,” Ponds sighs. “Ridiculous,” Bly agrees. “Children,” Rex laments. “Maniacs,” Cody says, with finality in his tone. A voice rumbles from across the table – the first time that night Wolffe had made it known that he was awake at all. “What did you say?” Rex yawns. Wolffe raises his head. “I said, speak for your kriffing selves.”

***

The table in the corner of the caf hall may as well have a reserved sign on it. It does, in a way: Wrecker carved a crude ‘99’ into one of the benches months ago. The regs tend to steer clear, although on days like these, Echo can’t really blame them. He hears it before he sees it, the first signs of an argument beginning to escalate. “Get out of my face before I blast yours off,” Crosshair snarls.  Echo almost turns and walks away. But someone will need to be around to pick up the pieces if this all goes sideways. He steps through the remaining crowd to find his place at the end of the table. Opposite him, Crosshair is hunched over like a wolf with its hackles up. Tech is beside him, one finger poised delicately approximately an eighth of a centimeter from Crosshair’s shoulder.

“I will,” he says, “the moment you explain why you are so put out when I, clearly, am not actually touching you.” The plastic fork in Crosshair’s hand snaps. “How long?” Echo asks with a heavy sigh. Hunter, eyes occupied sharpening his knife, replies, “Going on fifteen minutes.” “Think there’s a point?” Hunter shrugs, slots his knife back into its sheath. His eyes flick from Tech to Crosshair, to Wrecker, who is watching the stalemate with rapt attention like it’s a nail-biting bolo-ball match. “Supposedly it’s a study on patience and stress levels,” he says. “But he hasn’t done it with anyone else. You know, Cross did trash his goggles last week.” Echo nods vaguely, sipping his tea and watching the rest of the exchange play out with distant disinterest. It would be imperceptible to the regs passing by, but Echo catches the slant in Tech’s tone, the tiny quirk in his eye. He’s enjoying this.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” “I don’t know what you mean. I’m still not touching you.” “Knock it the hell off, or you’ll wake up tomorrow to all your datapads melting in the kriffing furnace.” “I'm not touching you, though.” “This isn’t a joke. I—” “Not touching you.” “Hunter!” Crosshair hisses, shifting away yet again. He’s crammed onto the last three inches of the bench now, but Tech advances quickly to narrow the gap. Hunter cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, no. I’m not getting anywhere near this one.” “Some Sergeant you are.”

Echo tries to tune it out and enjoy his stew, as the threats grow increasingly crass and Wrecker eagerly demands the two get on with it and fight already. How they could lose themselves so shamelessly in such childish antics he does not know. He turns his gaze to the rest of the caf, the grid of tables packed with troopers he’d rather be sitting at. Though as he watches, he soon spots a table in the opposite corner of the hall; two shinies are locked in a fierce arm wrestling match, vode around them whooping and jeering. A few troopers at another table take turns lobbing berries in the air and trying to catch them in their mouths. More than one table has a perilous game of five finger fillet going. He looks back to Tech and Crosshair, inching towards all-out war, and lets his thoughts wander back to his old squad. Nights spent in this very same caf, breathless with laughter as Domino squad tried to one-up each other with outlandish dares. Lobbing wadded-up napkins into their commanders’ drinks. Sneaking behind the serving counters to steal extra desserts. Echo himself had definitely had his moments, dropping ice cubes down the back of Fives’ blacks when he wasn’t looking.

Across the table, Crosshair is reaching the end of his rope. “Are you all just going to sit there and watch?” he seethes. Echo feels a wry grin pulling at his lip. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says glibly. “He’s not even touching you.”

[sixtysixproblems]

Last Line Challenge

I considered writing angst today for it because I crave revenge, but aparently (mostly) chaos won. thanks @heartofroses112 for tagging me <3

@myriadblvck @whyboi12 if either of you feel in the mood <3

This takes place like, late stage Fluorescent Mistakes. To avoid actual spoilers, because this is a fix it fic they find out about the chips & Palpatine. This is during the "that and other shit has gone down and we're trying to figure out what to do" era. Don't ask me why it's written before parts of next chapter, I don't know.

[Text briefly overlays the footage, and translated from Aurabesh it reads: Days without shebse nonsense: 0. Force help us all.] Ponds finally stops pacing, "Alright, I'm going to say damn professionalism for a moment. Generals, you were in the room, so it’s not like recounting it makes it any worse, and with all due respect, I don't give a shit what Bacara thinks--" "Thanks," Bacara's voice says from the other end of the camera. He is ignored.  "--And I definitely don't care what Neyo thinks. So." Neyo toasts to this and has more of his moonshine. Obi-Wan looks somewhat envious. 

"Earlier today I had to litterally jump in between the two of them and hold them back from punching eachother, or tackling, biting, etcétera etcétera-- whatever bullshit they would have chosen insert here." He sounds exasperated, but despite that and an attempt for a light tone, it's clear he's actually mostly worried and very, very tired, "And now they're both about twenty-five minutes late to the meeting. For all I know they're beating each other up in a closet somewhere. So I think my pacing is warranted." Obi-Wan winces, while General Koon, still almost imperceptibly, stiffens up again.  Neyo's face flickers briefly out of stoicism to something like suprise-worry-frustration halfway through and he pulls his feet off the table, his chair coming down to a normal position with a muffled think. The camera makes an odd swoop, like Bacara was about to turn it off, but then-- "Mate, you should have let them." Neyo says, not tilting the chair onto two feet again, but slouching back and throwing his arm over the back, disinterested once more.  "You know what Neyo..." Ponds starts. "No he's got a point. If they go at it, it'll probably be over quick." Says off-screen-Bacara. Neyo gestures at him like "see"? Mace went back to his paperwork about halfway through when Neyo started talking. Obi Wan looks halfway to amusement but unsure if he wants to take the final steps. Ponds looks to be on a separate continent from amusement. 

"Oh wow, I'm sure letting them give eachother black eyes and emotional damage and god knows what else will really help us take down an evil wizard," Ponds says, dryly, "Thanks Neyo." "Sarcasm isn't a good look on you," Neyo smirks faintly, "You should stick to glowering." "Well, our face isn't a good look on you,"  Cue off-screen-Bacara cackles, "Go get him Pondsie!" Bacara is rewarded for his encouragement with a middle finger from Commander “Pondsie”.  Neyo raises an eyebrow, "First of all, uncalled for. Second of all, you've never stopped me and Bacara from going at it." Ponds pinches the bridge of his nose, "That's because you and Bacara are a lost cause." "Hey now, we actually made it to the meeting, unlike some people." “Sadly.” “C’mon, it’s what Fox would have wanted. Lettem fight,” Neyo says, correctly identifying that was why Cody and Wolffe were fighting, correctly identifying Fox would find this at least a little funny, and incorrectly thinking that "Fox thinks it’s funny" = a healthy or even viable way to sort out interpersonal conflict.  Ponds glares, "Hey, O- General Kenobi, heads up." "Erm," Kenobi says, who'd crossed into amusement by this point but quickly backtracks, "I'd actually prefer--" "General?" Ponds says, still glaring at Neyo.  General Windu, not looking up from his work, waves a hand and a discarded caf cup flies into Ponds's hand. "Oh for the love of--" This caf cup is thrown at Neyo's head with high levels of prejudice. It reveals itself to not be entirely empty. General Kenobi is saved from getting splashed only by the force, which he uses to hault the caf coming towards him mid air. Neyo does not have the force. General Koon raises his eyebrows (eyebrow-like...muscles?) very high. General Windu meanwhile doesn't react to his second in command throwing beverages at his other second in command at all.

this is probably too long RIP

what if I told you this was the abridged version

[cienie-isengardu]

Walon Vau + orders

Triple Zero

"It's recovering," Jusik said.

    "Good," Vau said. "Because we want a chat with it."

    Etain looked up with that pinched expression she tended to adopt when she was angry in her rather righteous kind of way. "I lived alongside them. We promised we'd give them back their planet and so far all we've done is move in a garrison and train the human colonists to look after themselves."

    Vau stared slightly past her, straight-faced. "I believe that was you personally, General. You and Zey. And you were only following orders. That's it, isn't it? Following orders."

True Colors

Skirata put his hand on Mereel's shoulder. "We can only trust our own, son."

"Like the covert ops guys ..."

"You think they had all the facts in front of them? You think they had any choice?"

These were almost certainly men they knew, and that made it hard to swallow. Vau wondered if they would still have carried out their orders if they'd been sent after Prudii-or Mereel, or Ordo, or any of the Special Operations men or Mandalorian instructors who'd taught troopers their commando skills. Vau marveled at Skirata's continuing ability to absolve clones of all blame, but he did have a point.

"Humans follow orders," Vau said. "Even human Republic Intel agents, of course. We're herd animals. We all default to training."

Order 66

"Are you on brigade strength again, Sarge?" Scorch asked.

"No. Still civilian status." Vau wore a slightly preoccupied frown that didn't seem to have anything to do with the business at hand. "That way I can tell Zey where to stick his orders without feeling I've lost my military self-respect. An army that refuses orders is a rabble."

Scorch had heard it all before. It was like a litany, and he knew his lines. "An army that refuses orders is a danger to its citizens."

"An army that refuses orders is dead."

"You ever disobeyed an order, Sarge?"

"Only when it was unlawful. And that's not always an easy call, not when the bolts are shaving your nose hair. I'll leave that wisdom to the lawyers sitting on their padded shebse years after the event." Vau had never been a chatty man at the best of times; maybe this was the private Vau, the one his squads rarely saw.

[kad-dala]

Why does catching a cold on an ice planet surprise me?

They say bacta fixes everything...They better be right before my boot lands in some shebse.