#the lucky batch ballast

[monako-jinn-stories]

AHHHH MORE LUCKY BATCH FINALLY

I’m so excited for this one!!!

Speeder Rides

The nightmares flooded his mind again. The red flashing lights, the blaring alarms, the yells from all the men around him. The sight of CT-2019’s ship exploding, the silence when CT-1882 tried to comm him. The fear that flooded his senses when CT-1882 commed General Lyle to tell him the bridge was damaged washed over him again. The horror he felt when his escape pod was the only one to leave the venator as he watched it explode. The utter loneliness of realizing that everyone he’d spent his life with, everyone he’d fought by from the beginning, suffocated CT-0017 in his sleep.

Ryder wakes up with a jerk, his body trembling and covered in sweat as he tries to breathe normally. His heart is racing, and he takes deep, shuddering breaths as his mind processes the nightmare.

Ryder climbs down from his bed as quietly as he can, but he doesn’t realize that someone else is awake as well. As Ryder silently leaves the room, Jackal crawls out of bed to follow. Ryder moves quickly, much to Jackal's surprise. It’s like he’d rather be anywhere but here, and Jackal knows that’s probably true.

He’d been trying to fall asleep himself when he’d heard Ryder above him. Mumbled words about needing to escape, calling for General Lyle, CT-1882, and CT-2019. He knew that those were people from Ryder’s original battalion, the ones that had died on Ryder’s last mission with them.

Jackal had almost gotten up to make sure Ryder was okay during the nightmare, but before he could, the clone had climbed down from his bunk and left the room, causing Jackal to be even more worried.

Jackal isn’t sure how to approach him, not wanting to scare him or make him feel cornered. He wants Ryder to feel safe, to know that he has someone there for him.

As he enters the hangar after Ryder, Jackal watches as he went right up to the speeder they’d given him. Ryder pauses, taking a deep breath as he seems to debate getting on.

“Can’t sleep?” Jackal asks, startling Ryder slightly. Ryder looks at him for a second before turning and climbing onto his speeder.

“Yeah, something like that,” he replies.

“Where are you going?”

“I…don’t know…” There’s a moment of silence, Jackal questioning if he might be pushing too much, but decides to ask another question.

“Mind if I join you?” Ryder looks at him again, studying his expression. Jackal was battleworn, like most of them in the Lucky Batch. He’d seen enough pain to last more than a desired amount of lifetimes. He’s lost his own brothers, and was no longer a part of his own original battalion.

“Sure,” Ryder finally answers, and Jackal climbs on behind him.

“So, you just going to fly around until we find somewhere or run out of fuel?”

“Yeah, that’s what I usually do,” Ryder says before starting the speeder. “Uh, just a heads up, sometimes I can be a little…reckless.”

“Reckless flying? Ha, sounds like me,” Jackal jokes, and Ryder gives a huff of amusement.

“Just try not to fall off,” Ryder says before he starts to fly out. At first, Jackal wasn’t sure whether Ryder was being serious, as he went slow and was gentle with his movements. But once they were out of the hangar and into traffic, Ryder proved he wasn’t joking.

Jackal instantly grabs onto Ryder, holding back a startled yelp as Ryder speeds through the flying lanes. Lights and colors flash by as they maneuver around tight corners and busy lanes. Jackal is sure Ryder’s speed is much faster than what is regulated, but that doesn’t matter to him. He’s too focused on not slipping off as Ryder points the speeder nearly straight up and flies up the side of a building.

“Kriff, Ryder! If you didn’t want me with you, you could have just said no! You don’t have to try and get me to fall off!”

“Sorry,” Ryder chuckles, leveling the speeder out as they reach the top, “but I did give you a warning.” Jackal just huffs in response, letting go of Ryder as they slowly fly over the top of the building. He takes a moment to look out over the city, admiring the lights of Coruscant’s night.

Ryder also gazes around, letting his mind be filled by the sounds around and below him, instead of the sounds of his nightmares. He lets out another deep breath, closing his eyes to try and find peace in the city.

“Hey, uh…you okay?” Jackal asks, noticing Ryder’s mood shift. Ryder peers around at Jackal before flying over to another building. He knows Jackal is trying to help, and he’s grateful for that. He just doesn’t know if he’s ready to say it out loud.

“I think…I think I need a little bit more time before I can talk about it,” Ryder responds after another minute. Jackal nods, resting a hand on Ryder’s shoulder.

“Well, Ryder,” Jackal says, smirking as he uses the clone's newly acquired name, “we’re here for you. I’m here for you. And I’m your new bunkmate, so I will listen to anything you need to say, and I will help you with everything I can.”

“Thanks, Jackal,” Ryder says, turning slightly to give him a small smile.

“Now, is there a favorite place you like to fly to? Maybe a spot that really helps you?”

“Well, seeing General Jinn always helps.”

“Ah, you mean Heather? Yeah, my partner Urania is good friends with her. She tells me about some of their fun adventures and shenanigans. I have to say, I’m a bit surprised someone like you is with someone like Heather.”

“What do you mean?” Ryder asks, slightly offended by the comment.

“Oh, I just mean, you’re kind of quiet, not really…adventurous? She just seems a bit more ‘hey let’s do this crazy, probably not good, idea’ and you seem more ‘hey, maybe we should consider the consequences first,’ if that makes sense.”

“I mean…I was more like her before the…” Ryder trails off, a shudder taking over as his nightmares burst to the front of his mind again. He grips the handles on the speeder tighter, and speeds up as if he’s trying to outrun the memories.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jackal says, gripping Ryder’s shoulder. “We all have a past. I wasn’t always a pilot, you know. I used to be a medic for the Wolfpack. But, things happened, and I ended up here as a pilot. And yeah, I miss the boys, more than anything. But I also have a new family here. I’ll never forget my past, but I’ll use it to grow. I’ll remember it and the people who taught me the important things. I’ll cherish the memories I have, and know the bad happened for a reason.” Ryder listens closely, absorbing Jackal’s words carefully. He knows he’s right, but he can’t help but feel like his past is too painful.

“Ryder,” Jackal says, more serious now, “you’ll never be the man you once were. I don’t know if you’ve accepted that, but if you haven’t, you need to. You’ve gone through too much, changed too much. But that doesn’t mean you can’t keep changing. Let your past help you become the man you want. I, for one, think you’re going to become an incredible guy. Well, not that you aren’t already, but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do,” Ryder chuckles. “Thanks, Jackal. That really helps, and means a lot.”

“Hey, it’s what brothers are here for. You’re my vod, and you can’t get rid of me,” Jackal says, giving Ryder a wide grin.

“Are you saying I should try and get you to fall off?” Ryder jokingly asks, but Jackal just grins even wider.

“Oh, you’ll know what I mean soon enough,” Jackal responds. “Just be careful if you ever bring Heather around, I can’t promise to be on my best behavior.”

“I’ll definitely remember that.” They laugh before falling silent again, each one falling into their own thoughts as Coruscant passes by. They’re in a quieter part of the city now, the place Ryder always imagines moving to with Heather after the war. If she wants to stay here, that is. If not, he’d follow her anywhere she went.

Maybe they’d stick with Jackal and Urania as well, perhaps flying off planet to live in a shared home, raise their families together, if they had them. The thought made Ryder smile, imagining building such a close bond with a brother that they choose to spend their lives together. Already, Ryder was feeling safe around Jackal. He felt like he could talk to him, and so he did.

“I had a nightmare. It’s a recurring one. About the venator,” Ryder began to explain.

“I assumed so, I heard you mumbling names and warnings.”

“Yeah. It’s just all…I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s like it happened yesterday.”

“I know what it feels like, for something to stick with you for so long, to feel so new, even after it’s been months.”

“I’m scared,” Ryder admits, making sure Jackal can’t see his face.

“Scared? Of the nightmares, or something else?”

“I just-I don’t want to go through that again. I don’t want to lose you guys like that.”

“Ryder,” Jackal says in a firm tone, “as the pilot of the Clover, I promise you will not have a bad venator experience again. And as your self-proclaimed new best and favorite vod, I promise you won’t lose me, or any other Lucky Batch member.”

“As much as I appreciate the promise and dedication, I won’t believe it until I see it.”

“Wow, way to be a pessimist,” Jackal says, rolling his eyes with a laugh.

“I'm just saying, it’s a war, and we don’t know how long it’ll go on for. We don’t know what will happen, who we’ll lose.”

“Well, you won’t lose me. I swear to the Maker on that,” Jackal says. “And if I’m wrong, if that swear is broken, you can have Grizzer after I steal him from Fox.”

“You’re going to steal Grizzer?” Ryder questions, not believing that Jackal will actually do it.

“Yup. That’s one of my bucket list items. Steal Grizzer from Fox and never give him back.” Ryder huffs, shaking his head at Jackal’s bizarre idea.

“Well, good luck with that, I guess.”

“Oh, you’re helping me,” Jackal says.

“No way, I’m not messing with Fox, or any of the Coruscant guard.”

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun!”

“Nope.”

“I’ll convince you.”

“No you won’t.”

“You’ll be helping me and you won’t even know it.”

“Lies.”

“I’ll prove you wrong.”

“No you won’t.”

“Want to bet on it?”

“Actually, yeah I do. If you steal Grizzer with my unknowing help, I’ll let you fly my speeder for a standard month.”

“Deal, and if I don’t get your unknowing help, I’ll let you fly the Clover for a standard month.”

“Deal,” Ryder says, turning to shake hands with Jackal. Jackal has a mischievous glint in his eyes, and Ryder can tell he already has a plan forming in his head.

“It won’t work.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do. And even if it does, I’ll just say you cheated.”

“Cheated? How would I cheat on manipulating you to unknowingly help me steal a massif?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll find a way to prove you did.”

“Yeah, alright, whatever you say, Ryder.” They both chuckle, peering out into the city. The sky is becoming brighter, and they haven’t realized how long they’ve been out.

“Maybe we should get back, I think it’s daytime,” Jackal says.

“Yeah, there’s just a slight problem,” Ryder says, looking down at the gauges on the speeder.

“Please don’t tell me what I think you’re going to tell me,” Jackal says.

“We’re almost out of fuel.”

“How far do you think we can make it before it stops?”

“I don’t know, let’s find out,” Ryder says. He steps on the gas again, and after a few seconds the speeder stalls before it stops.

“So, we got a few extra feet.”

“I guess we’re walking then,” Ryder says, jumping off before Jackal groans and climbs off as well.

“I’m not helping you push that,” Jackal states, walking ahead of Ryder.

“Hey! You were the one who asked to come along with me, so you get to help.”

“But you’re doing perfect! Look at you! All strong and-ow! Hey!”

“Well, if you’re not going to help, and if you’re going to walk in front of me, I might ‘accidentally’ hit you.”

“Fine, I’ll help,” Jackal grumbles, going to the other side and helping Ryder push the speeder back.

Once they reach the hangar, it’s almost midday and the rest of the Lucky Batch is waiting for them.

“Where have you guys been?” Ballast asks as they walk in.

“Out in the city. Ryder decided to use up all the fuel before heading back.”

“You asked if I was going to fly around until we ran out, and I said yeah that’s what I normally do,” Ryder says.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t being serious,” Jackal counters.

“Well I was.”

“Raffle has been looking for you,” Boots interrupts as he walks over.

“Better be prepared for the fly swatter, he’s not in a good mood,” Cypher adds.

“I’m telling him it was your idea,” Jackal whispers to Ryder as they head in to find Raffle.

“Yeah, well I’m telling him you’re planning on stealing Grizzer.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Jackal says, narrowing his eyes at Ryder. They share a tense moment, staring at each other before they both break into a run.

“RAFFLE! IT WAS RYDER’S IDEA!” Jackal yells through the halls.

“JACKAL’S GOING TO TRY AND STEAL GRIZZER FROM FOX!”

“DON’T LISTEN TO HIM, HE’S LYING!”

“NO I’M NOT, I HAVE IT ON RECORDING!”

From down the hall in his room, Raffle sighs and puts his head in his hands. He doesn’t have the energy for this today. When they both burst into his room, he just mumbles to them about going to find something else to do, that he’d deal with them later. The two then look at each other before running off again, and Raffle can’t help but hope they’re not going to get up to any mischief.

Ahhh I wrote this when I should have been writing two other things, but I had this idea and I wanted to make it! This includes some snip-it’s of headcanons about me and @maygalodon’s characters that we have formed together!

Ryder and Heather belong to me, Jackal and Urania belong to @maygalodon, Ballast belongs to @radbatch, Boots belongs to @lusiawonder, Cypher belongs to @stereotypicalpicnicmat, and Raffle belongs to @lynnpaper

The lucky batch! @lavenderstaars @lynnpaper @foxlock @maygalodon @oo-hazel-oo @mango-peachjuice @radbatch @letsunity @burnthashbrown27 @generaltano @catboy-tech @cosmicghostie @namesmox @monako-jinn-stories @longearedowlfromouterspace @lusiawonder @just-another-dreamerr @the-lucky-batch

[the-lucky-batch]

Ballast: I am a piñata and life is the stick that beats me

Cypher: did one of your machines explode again?

Ballast: yeah :(

Jackal, whispering to Ryder: you owe me 20 credits

Ryder, grumbling as he hands them over: I’ll win a bet some day

Jackal: keep dreamin’ princess

[letsunity]

The Lucky Batch

Bottom of the Barrel

It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair. 

Morast Tāne was strict, but they did their best for her. They made more of an effort than the other Jedi Masters, something of a parent-figure for her. They didn’t deserve to die.

And of course, as always, the all mighty Jedi Council put the blame on her. While Master Plo Koon and Master Obi-Wan Kenobi stood up for her, they were drowned out by Master Mace Windu. 

Though Master Yoda is the head of the council, Mace Windu is the main voice. He has a lot of respect from the others, his words influencing others. 

He had been a friend of Master Tāne. She could see why he’d blame her, but it wasn’t her fault. It couldn’t have been, right?

Master Tāne said to trust the force, and Kenlha did. She trusted herself, acted on what she thought was right and Master Tāne died. 

It was only because there wasn’t proof that she killed him that she wasn’t expelled from the Order. That and they needed as many force-users as possible. Hell, it was bad enough for her to be Knighted. 

Now she has to wait for a Battalion for them to dump her at. The 501st are fun and General Skywalker has a Togruta padawan. Someone else who understands the thorough upkeep of montral horns and lekku. 

“Kenlha, is it?” came a smooth voice, like molten chocolate. “Master Kenobi and Master Koon mentioned to me what happened. I am sorry for your loss,” he comforted graciously.

“Master Fisto, your words have more value than you know,” she continued, a little honoured to be in his presence. “They were a good master to me.”

“I didn’t get to speak with Master Tāne, but I heard many great things about them. I’m sure they’d be very proud of your recent knighthood.”

She wish that to be true.

“Would you like to meet your new squad?”

She gets her own squad? 

The green Nautolan motioned for her to follow him. Eager, Kenlha walked next to him, her mind racing with a million questions.

What did he mean? What new squad? Isn’t she supposed to join a new Battalion?

As the newly knighted Jedi stepped into the shipyard, her eyes were drawn to a colourful ship with a large clover on it. It was damaged and only had three leaves. 

Master Fisto smiled, nodding to that ship. 

“Clone Force 37,” he introduced. “They are your squad.”

A small group of clones jumped out of the door for dear life, ducking their heads as something exploded inside. As smoke bellowed, they began bickering over what caused it. 

It was at that moment that they noticed Master Fisto and Kenlha. 

“Was’ up, Kit!” waved a clone who plopped onto a GNK droid, sitting on it joyfully. “Yo, that your new P-to-the-Wan?”

“For the love of Prime, Jackal, never say that again,” his brother sighed, shaking his head, the braid flapping from side to side. “The question stands. Who’s this?”

“This is Master Kenlha Whiro, your new commanding officer,” Kit Fisto smiled, patting Kenlha on the back. 

A clone smothered in smoke and soot bounced out of the ship, tackling Kenlha. He grinned up at her, several burn scars on his face. 

His brothers surrounded her, excited to meet her and were like giddy children.

One of them with different-coloured eyes slapped something onto her chestplate. Confused, she looked at it, finding a large star sticker.

“I’m Pepper, the medic,” he introduced, grabbing one nearby, “and this is my twin, Foxy.”

“Jackal!”

“I’m Ballast!”

“Boots,” Boots said. After a moment, he grabbed a bit of scrap and lobbed it at the other clone’s head. “He’s Cypher, a bit if an airhead but when he’s paying attention, there’s nothing he can’t interpret!”

They were weird and she loved it. 

“They’re all mine?” Kenlha beamed, already in love with her new little brothers. “All of them?”

“As are those two,” the Nautolan added, motioning to a Captain with a young child with him. “Captain Raffle and Luna Evynder, your own Padawan.”

She was overwhelmed and astounded, unable to process the sudden gifts upon her. Master Kit Fisto was kind, but she never thought he’d give her so much.

So much that she probably doesn’t deserve. 

“I’m going to be honest with you, Master Whiro, these are not the greatest soldiers. In fact, many believe them to be the worst of the army. Though that may be so, everybody has a place in this universe. I have faith that you can take care of them,” he smiled, his webbed hands on her shoulders. “Know that not only I believe in you, but so will they.”

Teary eyed, Kenlha embraced the Nautolan, her montral horns pressing against his chin. She didn’t care that they weren’t good soldiers, they were hers. 

“Thank you, Master Fisto. I won’t fail you.”

“Nor will you disappoint. When it comes to the unusual, you need someone equally unique to lead them. Master Kenobi and Master Koon helped me talk Master Yoda in letting you have these clones. They believe in you as well.”

She wasn’t going to fail. As of now, she’s the leader of Clone Force 37.

“Welcome to the squad, boss-sis,” Foxy announced, patting her shoulder. “First things first, we'll show you how the moonshine maker works.”

Foxy might just be her favourite because of that alone.

Thanks to these guys for their characters!

@just-another-dreamerr​ @generaltano​ @radbatch​ @foxlock​ @maygaladon @lavenderstaars  @lusiawonder

[oo-hazel-oo]

The Lucky Batch

hey y’all! i’ve been working on this for a hot minute — turns out i am incapable writing anything shorter than 5,000 words, so sorry in advance for how long this got. a huge thank you to @cosmicghostie for being the ultimate writer's cheerleader and to the rest of the lucky batch for giving me such amazing characters to work with! you all genuinely brighten my day, so i hope this brightens yours! ♥︎

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lucky: a few days in the life of Clone Force 37’s unofficial therapist

content warnings: blood/injury, weapon use, lots of emotional distress (but also some fluff to make up for it!!)

Thumbs didn’t know when he had become Clone Force 37’s unofficial therapist. It just kinda happened.

His original role as the squad’s battle strategist shifted after he realized that his usual skill-set wouldn’t be helpful to a squad who typically threw strategy out the window.

Yet even without a set strategy, the unconventional group somehow had a relatively high success rate when it came to their missions. Thumbs had assumed it was their unpredictability that gave them an advantage. Or the fact that each of them had unique abilities, unlike any soldiers he had ever met.

However, the longer he was with Clone Force 37, the more he started to notice just how special his batch-mates were.

The twins, Foxy and Pepper, had caught his attention first. Both were skilled in their own ways, but what stood out to Thumbs was how each was fiercely protective of the other. He wasn’t sure what the pair had gone through to end up on the Clover, but he couldn’t help but notice the weight of Foxy’s quiet around strangers or the subtle promise behind each sticker that Pepper placed. Thumbs knew more than anyone, love was always accompanied by fear.

He saw this fear in Master Kenhla, every time she glanced towards the two padawans she had come to mentor. Despite her powerful posture, Thumbs could see how she carried the galaxy on her shoulders; not so that she could manage more, but so her brothers could bear less.

Brothers like Rane and Skip, who had lost everything, everyone, before finding their place with the Lucky Batch. Or Sparks and Ryder, both of whom blamed themselves for tragedies of the past.

They all had lost so much… Yet, by some miracle, they had found each other.

Thumbs would do anything to make sure it stayed that way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This particular day had started normally, which for Thumbs meant wincing as three screaming forms barreled towards where he sat knitting at the back of the ship. He set his needles down, knowing he would not be getting back to work anytime soon.

“Here we go,” he mumbled under his breath as his batchmates shouted from across the hull.

“THUMBS!!!”

The small stampede, which was revealed to be Sparks, Ballast, and Luna, raced towards him, each one attempting to outpace the other.

“Oh Maker, Ballast, what did you do?”

The batcher in question skidded to a stop, mock-offense written across his face. “I didn’t-”

Thumbs gave each of his batch-mates a once-over, scanning them for injuries. “Should I get Pepper? Is anyone hurt?”

“Not yet,” the two mechanics both mumbled under their breath.

Thumbs sighed in equal parts relief and exhaustion. Ballast and Sparks had been ‘friendly’ rivals for as long as he had known the pair. Unfortunately for him, their rivalry often extended outside the realm of mechanics and into the everyday affairs of the Lucky Batch, with Thumbs usually acting as the chosen mediator of these disagreements.

Sparks pointed at Ballast, pleading his case. “He ate all the cookies Jack made me!”

“You’re overreac-”

“And drank all my caf.”

Now Thumbs understood the near-murderous look on Sparks’ face.

His brother had always done so much for the batch and asked for very few things in return, one of those things being his morning cups of caf: a simple but necessary pleasure that allowed him to function throughout the day.

Thumbs brought his attention back to the pair in front of him, wondering whose word to trust more. Then he brought his gaze down, to a much more reliable source.

“Luna, what happened?”

The padawan looked up nervously, her eyes partially hidden behind choppy bangs. Thumbs smiled when he noticed she was wearing the mittens he had knit for her. He had originally made pairs for both her and Brisk while they were stationed on a colder planet, but now Luna liked to wear them for fun, claiming they made her look like an ewok.

The young girl shrunk from the attention that was suddenly on her, moving closer to Ballast’s side.

“I…”

“What happened is he drank all my caf.” Sparks stepped forward, jabbing another accusatory finger towards Ballast. “The caf that prevents me from strangling my brothers when they get on my nerves.”

Thumbs spoke up, attempting to diffuse the rising hostility. “I thought you didn’t even like caf, Ballast. I always see you drinking that tea Jackal likes.”

The mechanic shifted on his feet nervously. “Well, I…”

Thumbs looked towards his brother curiously, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. Something about the whole dispute seemed off, almost like Ballast was covering for someb-

“Wait,” a small voice piped up from behind the three brothers. “B-Ballast didn’t take your caf, I did.”

“You-” Sparks spun towards the voice with an instinctive glower before recognizing its source. His features softened almost instantly. “What?”

Luna shrugged sheepishly. “I wanted to see if it was good… It was! And Master Ken said I was exceptionally energetic during our training afterwards.”

Thumbs fixed his gaze on Sparks expectantly, curious how he would react to the young batcher’s confession.

“I’m sorry,” she continued, wringing her mittened hands. “I know I should’ve asked.”

Sparks cleared his throat awkwardly as he waved off her apology. “No, it’s uh... It’s fine.”

Luna’s expression remained uncertain and Ballast elbowed Sparks in the side, urging him to reassure the young girl.

“Really, I mean... I shouldn’t even be drinking that much anyway,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck guiltily.

Ballast grinned at Sparks, eating up the moment.

Thumbs couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto his own face as well. For a squad of soldiers who had fought countless battles and overcome powerful enemies, they sure did surrender fast when it came to their padawans. No one onboard the Clover was immune to their effortless charm.

Luna eventually looked up at Thumbs, seeking his own approval, which he happily granted with an encouraging thumbs up.

There was a welcome moment of silence before Sparks’ head jerked upwards once more.

“Wait, what about my cookies?”

“Hmm...” Ballast looked to the floor dramatically, feigning deep thought. “You mean the chocolate chunk cookies with sea salt and a fine caramel drizzle?” He smirked before continuing. “I have no idea.”

Sparks took two threatening steps towards Ballast and within seconds the two of them were chasing each other throughout the Clover with Luna giggling in their wake.

For the clones, who quite literally were forced to grow up too fast, the padawans’ presence reminded them of what a childhood should be. It kept them grounded, desperate to preserve that feeling for the young girls for as long as they could. And if that meant that Luna could get away with stealing Spark’s caf, then so be it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That evening’s supply trip was supposed to be easy. A quick in and out operation to gather necessary materials for the coming weeks. But it had already been three hours since Ballast, Sparks, and Foxy’s expected return and no one on the Clover had received an update on their whereabouts.

Thumbs wasn’t someone who paced often. While the rest of the galaxy seemed to be in constant motion, Thumbs always tried his best to remain still at its center. But the longer he waited for his batchmates’ return, the more he felt like he was spinning off his axis, unable to stop the repetitive trajectory of his feet throughout the hull.

He wasn’t even aware of his own movements until they were interrupted by the sound of distant yelling. Strained shouts echoed from outside the Clover’s walls, nearly imperceptible amidst the intensifying wind. Their tone, panicked and desperate, was more bone-chilling than the rain that had started to fall around them.

Storms had always scared Thumbs. He hated seeing flashes of lightning, understanding that the explosion of thunder would follow, but never knowing when. Deep down he knew that thunder was harmless, that lightning posed the greater threat, but at least it was quick, unexpected, gone in a flash. Thunder was slow, deafening, inevitable.

When the Clover’s ramp finally lowered to reveal a bloodied Sparks cradled in Ballast’s arms, he knew that the lightning had passed.

This was the thunder.

Thumbs watched in silence as his brothers stumbled into the hull of the ship, a trail of mud and blood left in their wake. Ballast and Foxy eased Sparks onto the closest bunk, removing his armor to better assess the injury. Luna and Brisk dashed into the room, their eyes widening at the horrific sight. Luna’s breaths came in labored bursts as she called for Pepper, tears streaming down her face.

The squad’s medic came running, following the worried gaze of the two young girls who stood near the bunks. He spared a brief glance at Foxy before quickly donning a pair of gloves and shouting orders to nearby batch-mates. Hearing the commotion, Master Kenhla arrived and immediately ushered her padawans out of the room, not wanting them to witness the sight of their brother in pain.

While before Thumbs had been unable to sit still, now he felt frozen, cold as the ice on Hoth. His brothers were right in front of him, yet he felt as if he were watching the scene unfold from millions of miles away.

He kept thinking back to that morning — Sparks had been fine, albeit cranky over his lack of caf, and now…

Thumbs hated it. He hated how things could change so quickly.

He watched as Ballast, usually explosive in his mannerisms, now held Sparks’ hand in his own, whispering words of comfort as his brother lay motionless on the cot.

Thumbs suddenly felt sick to his stomach, a shrill ringing filling the air around him. The echoes of a memory that had been stagnant for years, forced into the depths of his mind, suddenly emerged:

An argument, a battle, another brother gone. A hand desperately squeezing his own before going limp, devoid of all life.

Another hand, this one from the present, landed on his shoulder, dragging him out of one nightmare and into another. A voice was speaking, asking if he was alright, telling him to sit down.

Thumbs’ guilt only increased. Hands that should be helping his fallen brother were instead on his own shoulders, urging him towards the nearest seat. He shrugged them off with an uncharacteristic roughness, finally taking a few shaky steps towards Sparks.

He had almost made it to the bunk when the same pair of arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him back.

“Thumbs, stop,” the voice urged. “You need to let Pepper help him. There’s nothing you can do.”

He knew the words were supposed to be comforting. He had spoken the same ones to almost every soldier who had come to him burdened with the invisible weight of survivor’s guilt. Sometimes it was what they needed to hear; other times, it wasn’t.

The last thing Thumbs saw was an oxygen mask being lowered onto his brother’s face before eventually succumbing to the arms around him, letting himself be removed from the scene.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Thumbs woke up the next morning with a headache.

Foxy, who had been the one to escort him out of the room the night before, filled him in on what had happened during the supply run.

Apparently as the trio had made their way back to the ship, bandits had intercepted them. The ragtag group of thieves were lacking in both numbers and artillery and hadn’t been particularly difficult to subdue. Sparks had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught in the unforgiving crossfire of a supply trip gone wrong.

Thumbs wished he had been there. Maybe then he could’ve shouted to his brother in warning or pulled him out of harm’s way. Stars, he would’ve jumped in front of the deathly bolt himself if it meant Sparks was still standing at the end of the day.

The two of them had grown close over the past few months, especially after Thumbs learned the story behind Sparks’ name. He could tell that his brother’s outwardly gruff attitude was just a shield used to protect the sensitive, guilt-ridden soldier beneath. Even one offhand criticism of his work as a mechanic could bring him back to the accident and a past he wished desperately to forget.

Because of this, Sparks would often work through the night, losing himself in the wires and circuits of the ship to ensure he didn’t make the same mistake twice. Thumbs was always at his side reminding him to take breaks, to drink water when he was thirsty, to eat when pangs of hunger hit...

But there was little he could do for Sparks now as he lay unconscious in the hull of the Clover.

Pepper had done everything he could, luckily managing to stabilize their brother within a few hours of the incident. Sparks was slowly showing signs of improvement — he had even woke up briefly in the early hours, mumbling something about watering Percy, before slipping back into the depths of unconsciousness.

Percy was the name of one of Sparks’ plants, something Thumbs discovered after walking in on his brother affectionately repotting it in a moment of assumed privacy.

He smiled at the memory, shaking his head in disbelief. It was just like Sparks to be worried about keeping his plants alive while he was barely clinging to life himself.

With nothing to do but wait until his brother woke up, Thumbs made his way into the hull of the ship where he found most of the batch engaged in a lively game of Dejarik. It was a tradition, meant to keep the batches' spirit alive when faced with tough times.

He almost started towards them when he felt a presence to his left, distanced from the laughter of the others.

Thumbs’ gaze landed on Ryder as he stared out of the cockpit window absent-mindedly, though he knew from his expression that his mind was anything but absent.

Thumbs approached slowly, not wanting to startle the squad’s weapons specialist.

“Hey Ry, you alright?”

Ryder glanced up, a flash of surprise illuminating his expression, before looking back down, his face once again shrouded in darkness.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” A barrage of laughter sounded from the other side of the room, where everyone was still gathered. “Think I’m gonna go for a ride though.”

“Oh, okay…” Thumbs replied, wanting to say more to his obviously-distracted brother. “Mind if I tag along?”

“You always do,” Ryder said, shooting him a small smirk.

“Hey!” Thumbs laughed, punching his shoulder lightly.

Ryder chuckled, nodding for Thumbs to follow him to the far corner of the hull. Once there, he opened the weapons cabinet, extracting a couple blasters and holstering them on his form.

Thumbs looked at his brother questioningly.

“Just in case,” Ryder said, carefully checking over his chosen artillery.

Thumbs nodded quickly, admonishing himself for not thinking more practically, especially after what happened with Sparks. It was a dangerous thing to give the galaxy the benefit of the doubt.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The planet they were currently docked on was beautiful. The hues of its rolling hills were softened by the dying light, the gentle breeze transforming the tall grasses into golden waves. The sky’s colors evolved with each passing minute, all evidence of the previous night’s storm lost to its changing shades.

It was Thumb’s favorite time of day. At dusk the light never seemed harsh; it was sympathetic, understanding. It hovered, never fully settling, like a cloud. But dusky light was also ephemeral. Thumbs wished he could freeze it, trap it in a jar and release it when he needed its soft companionship.

He knew too many people like dusk: perfect, until they were gone.

“It’s pretty here,” Thumbs eventually broke the silence, a welcome distraction from his own thoughts.

“Yeah,” Ryder replied as his eyes traced the horizon, “It is.”

“That why you’ve been coming out here so often?”

Thumbs knew his brother liked to take his speeder out on rides whenever he needed a break from the confines of the Clover. He would even accompany him from time to time. But recently he had been escaping much more frequently and Thumbs couldn’t help but worry that something else was going on.

Ryder chuckled lowly. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

“Hey, you’re kinda hard not to notice.” Thumbs smirked, gesturing a hand towards his brother’s head: “Ya know, cause of the hair.”

Ryder grinned, blowing a stray strand out of his face. “Yeah, sure thing curly.”

Thumbs ran a hand through his own coily locks with a shy shrug.

The two brothers fell into a comfortable silence as fireflies blinked to life around them. Thumbs pretended they were shooting stars, closing his eyes and wishing for the speedy recovery of Sparks back onboard the Clover.

After a while, the air seemed to become heavy and Thumbs could tell that Ryder needed to get something off of his chest.

His suspicion was confirmed when he heard his brother sigh deeply, preparing to speak.

“Lately…” he started, tugging on the end of his turquoise braid. “I’ve been thinking a lot.”

Thumbs nodded and moved to sit beside him in a subtle gesture of comfort.

“About them?”

Ryder nodded, knowing Thumbs was referencing his past squad.

“I’ve been having the dreams again.”

Thumbs’ face fell. He remembered the night he found out about Ryder’s nightmares as if it were yesterday.

He had been awake in the hull of the ship, too afraid that something bad might happen if he allowed himself the privilege of closing his eyes. Ryder had started tossing in his sleep, muttering the names and numbers of unfamiliar clones. Thumbs shook his brother awake, eventually guiding him outside of the ship when he struggled to regain his breath. The two of them had sat on the Clover’s ramp until long after the sun rose, each finding comfort in the other’s presence.

Since then, the nightmares had decreased, but every now and again they would return. The guilt would return.

“In the dream, I’m back on the venator,” Ryder described, his voice hoarse. “First there’s the flashing lights. Then voices, their voices, but they eventually fade away and then there’s just static. For a moment, everything is quiet, just a faint buzzing...”

Thumbs gave his brother’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, letting him know he was still there, still listening.

“And then I’m in the escape pod. As I’m drifting away, I look back towards the ship, but it’s not the venator anymore. It’s the Clover.”

He paused, swallowing thickly.

“And then it’s just gone. Swallowed by fire.”

The unsettling images unearthed feelings that Thumbs never had the courage to voice out loud, but the anxious thrumming of Ryder’s fingers on the side of the speeder reminded him of his current task: to show his brother that he was there for him now, regardless of what happened in the past.

“Ry, I know there’s not a lot I can say. But know that they would’ve been so proud of you, of the soldier and brother you’ve become,” Thumbs reassured gently. “We all are.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Ryder mumbled.

Thumbs frowned, knowing his brother wasn’t convinced.

“Well, this was supposed to be a surprise, but it looks like you need it now.”

Thumbs pulled out the pack he had brought with him, rifling through it until he found a small bundle. He nervously presented it to Ryder, who observed the way it had been carefully packaged in colorful gift wrap and adorned with stickers, most likely donated by Pepper.

“I made this for you,” Thumbs spoke as Ryder opened the parcel. “It’s a blanket, obviously, but it’s… Well, it’s got a little more to it than that. Each row of stitches is made of yarn from all the different places we’ve been to as a batch. Thought it could be cool to see how far we’ve all come. But I also know how important it is to you that we honor our pasts, so down here,” Thumbs pointed at the bottom left corner, “I stitched in the names of CT-2019 and CT-1882. And over here is General Lyle’s.”

Thumbs looked up at Ryder, trying to gauge his reaction.

“I know it doesn’t change anything, not really, but I thought maybe it could help you sleep at night.”

There was a long moment of silence as Thumbs began to doubt the impact of his gift. The whole idea was starting to sound stupid now. Maybe if he had-

“I… Thank you, Thumbs.” Ryder finally spoke, his voice cracking slightly. “Really. It’s- It’s perfect.”

Thumbs grinned, glad to see the glimmer of hope return to his brother’s eyes. “Of course, anything for my vod.”

Ryder held the blanket close, tracing his finger over the carefully stitched names of his old squad. His eyes scanned over the various colors and textures that Thumbs had incorporated, recognizing yarn from planets they hadn’t been to in years. How long had his brother been working on this?

He was just about to ask when a subtle movement drew his own gaze downwards. Thumbs was quietly bouncing his right leg, a nervous habit that Ryder had picked up on throughout their time together. He doubted that Thumbs was even aware of his own anxious mannerism, but Ryder could tell that something was on his mind.

“Hey, vod?” Ryder placed the blanket down, his focus now on his brother.

“Yeah?” Thumbs replied, still staring straight ahead.

Ryder thought back to something his companion had told him just moments ago, something that had made him feel important, valuable, seen.

“People notice you too.”

 Thumbs chuckled, thinking back to when he invited himself to join Ryder on his impromptu speeder trip just hours before. “Yeah, I guess my constant pestering makes it hard not to.”

“Yeah...” Ryder continued, almost hesitantly. It would be harder getting through to his brother than he thought. “But we also notice why you do that.”

“And why’s that?” Thumbs asked casually, not quite sure where Ryder was guiding the conversation.

“Because you care.”

At this, Thumbs finally met his brother’s eyes, confusion painting his features. The words were simple, yet something about them did not fully compute.

“No matter how many idiotic things we pull, you’re always there for us.”

Thumbs held his brother’s gaze, considering his words intently, before looking down to his feet. He frowned before mumbling something, barely audible above the light breeze:

“Not when it counts.”

The words sliced through the air, contrary to the soft tone in which they were spoken. Ryder couldn’t help the immediate snap of his head towards his brother.

“What do you-”

“Yesterday, with Sparks,” Thumbs interjected, his voice gaining strength. “No amount of pestering could’ve helped him.”

There was something about the way Thumbs was speaking — something that Ryder had missed before, something familiar — that was unravelling with each passing moment.

“But he’s okay now, he’s fine,” Ryder tried to console, his brow furrowed.

Thumbs scoffed. “That was just luck. I heard what Pepper said: If his injury had been just an inch to the left…” He ran a hand through his hair frustratedly.

“Well, luck is kinda our thing,” Ryder said, repeating words that Pepper had spoken to him when he first joined the batch.

“But I don’t want it to be!”

Ryder looked up in shock. In the entire time he had known Thumbs, he had never once heard him raise his voice. But shock soon turned to concern when he noticed the tears streaming down his brother’s face.

“I don’t want to rely on luck,” Thumbs choked out, his voice softening. “Not… not when it comes to the people I care about.”

Helplessness.

Ryder was well-acquainted with the feeling — the image of his former general on the other side, the wrong side, of an escape pod window, forever etched into his memory. He tried to think of something to say that could comfort his brother, but the only words that came to mind were the ones Thumbs had already spoken to him moments before.

The whole batch knew that Thumbs had always struggled to take his own advice and that reminding him to do so never seemed to have an effect. It was unusual to see him in such a vulnerable state, something the former-strategist was well aware of as he avoided his brother’s gaze, shame written across his tear-stained features.

Ryder cringed at the sight, knowing he would need to take a more unconventional approach to offer his brother reassurance, one that would hopefully provide him with a fragment of control in a galaxy that seemed to feed on chaos.

Ryder nodded once, steeling himself, before reaching down and pulling his twin blasters out of their respective holsters.

“You know,” he started, attempting to keep his voice level, “I got these from CT-2019 and CT-1882. They were graduation gifts.”

Thumbs turned his head curiously, wiping away a stray tear in the process. A small part of him fought back the urge to smile: unlike his brother, he had been given craft supplies and a book for graduation.

“I could teach you how to shoot ‘em, if you want.”

Thumbs looked towards his brother incredulously.

“Ry, I’ve shot a blaster before...”

Ryder exhaled breathily, a playful grin gracing his features. “Ah, not ones like these. These here are DC-17 hand blasters.” He held his weapons in front of himself reverently. “They’re more powerful than your standard blaster, more efficient too.”

Thumbs hesitated, his confusion at the sudden shift in topic still evident, before nodding slowly.

“Alright, sure.”

Ryder spent the next few minutes guiding Thumbs through the best way to handle the blasters — helping him correct his stance, improve aim, and prepare for recoil. The process was strangely reassuring, giving Thumbs something tangible to hold onto, something he could control.

“Hey, Ryder?” Thumbs asked, looking down at the weapon in his hands, the echoes of its former owners serving as a comforting reminder that those who were gone could still protect their brothers who lived to fight another day. Maybe when Thumbs was gone, he could do the same.

“Thank you.”

Ryder had just begun to respond when a noise sounded from behind them.

Thumbs startled and spun on his heel, impulsively throwing the first thing he could think of towards the nearby bushes: Ryder’s blaster.

He mentally facepalmed as his brother jumped off of the speeder, aiming his remaining blaster towards the sound. He held out a hand as he crept closer to the bushes, silently telling Thumbs to stay back.

A tense moment passed, before a tooka revealed itself from behind the bush.

Thumbs sighed in relief before looking up at Ryder guiltily.

“Probably not the best use of the blaster,” he said with a cringe.

“What, you wanted to shoot it?” Ryder questioned breathlessly, a smirk growing across his features.

“No, of course not!” Thumbs smiled, relieved that his brother didn’t seem upset over his moment of panic. The tooka sauntered up to him, rubbing its head against his legs.

Ryder retrieved the discarded blaster and walked back towards the speeder, the remnants of a smirk still visible on his face. “Well, looks like good things can come from bad luck.”

“Yeah,” Thumbs huffed, looking down at the small animal by his feet. “Guess so.”

And maybe that’s what Clone Force 37 was: a group of outcasts who were all in the process of turning their histories with bad luck into good things — good luck.

“C’mon, hop up,” Ryder said as held out an arm. “Let’s get back to the ship.”

Thumbs let himself be pulled into the speeder, the firm grip of his brother’s hand a silent reassurance: I’m here for you.

He leaned back, his eyes reflecting the stars that had started to appear above. He wondered how many of them he couldn’t see, how many millions of lives were being lived just out of his view.

Thumbs glanced over to the brother at his side, thinking about how lucky he was to have crossed paths with him, with all of them, in a universe of infinite proportions.

“We should probably pick up some caf for Sparks on the way back… I know he’ll want some when he wakes up,” Thumbs spoke, laying all the way back in the speeder.

Ryder nodded in agreement as they lurched forward. The sun had finally disappeared from view and the two soldiers soon became mere silhouettes against the dimming night sky.

But anyone familiar with Clone Force 37 knew that they were so much more than two small blips on the horizon:

They were brothers.

And Thumbs was positive that nothing in the galaxy could ever change that.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

@the-lucky-batch @lavenderstaars @lynnpaper @foxlock @maygalodon @mango-peachjuice @radbatch @letsunity @burnthashbrown27 @generaltano @catboy-tech @cosmicghostie @namesmox @monako-jinn-stories @longearedowlfromouterspace @lusiawonder @just-another-dreamerr

[ahsokasshoto]

the weight down in the deep of you: a lucky batch fic ☘️

(guys!! i finally wrote a thing!!! feat. why ballast's name is ballast and why jackal loves throwing his prosthetic arms so much. hope you enjoy!!!)

A ballast is the secret, vital core of a ship: the weight down in the deep of you that keeps a vessel upright in dark water. - Catherynne M. Valente, The Girl Who Soared Over Fairyland and Cut the Moon in Two

    The sun hung low and hazy in the sky and most of the clones of the 37th battalion were still sleeping in their camp when a terrifyingly loud, terrifyingly explosive sound erupted from nearby the ship. 

    “What the kriff--” Jackal moaned, jolting awake. He held his head. He hated loud noises at the best of times; and it was even worse to be rudely awoken by one. 

    “Was that an attack?” another voice sounded. It was Ryder.

    “I don’t know, di’kut,” Cypher responded groggily. “Why don’t you go out and look?”

    Several of the Lucksters stumbled out of their tents into the cool morning air and looked around. It didn’t look like they were in immediate danger, but there was some smoking coming from Ballast’s workstation.

    On closer inspection, the entire workstation--as well as much of the dark, sandy ground--was covered in soot and ash. The greatest amount was collected on Ballast’s face. At least he’d had the sense to wear goggles. 

    “Oh, hey boys,” Ballast greeted his batchmates cheerily as they came over. “Just a faulty wire. Sorry if I woke you. I’m going to see if there’s any replacement parts on the ship.” 

    He walked off, whistling a sprightly tune as he went. His brothers shared glances between them, shaking their heads.

    “Does anything rattle that guy?” Rane wondered aloud. Jackal glanced toward Ballast’s retreating frame, a small smile gracing his features. 

    “You don’t know the half of it,” he replied, a faraway look gracing his features as a memory overtook him.

    The air was so thick with blaster fire, it was nearly impossible to see. This was not ideal for the clones of the 37th Battalion, who wound their way through a massive and labyrinthine Separatist facility. They were on mission from the Jedi council to retrieve a particular set of data for the Republic. The security around the facility was so great that they needed all hands on deck to help keep them at bay while others infiltrated the facility, which was why Cypher and Ballast found themselves winding their way through the dark hallways along with Jackal and Ryder. Jackal and Ryder were used to the front lines, but Ballast and Cypher were not usually in the thick of things like this. They’d been raised and trained for battle, but their talents typically had them supporting the other soldiers in other ways.

Now, they found themselves hunkered down in a side hallway while droids bore down on them from either side and they wouldn’t have time to retreat back the way they came before the droids caught up to them. Jackal held his head, struggling with the noise of the blasters. Ryder pat himself down wildly, trying to find which of his weapons still had any fuel left. 

    The familiar clicking of empty blasters sounded from Cypher’s pistols. “This is bad. This is terrible, disastrous, catastrophic!” he shouted over the noise as he hunkered down in the hallway. 

    “Keep it together, Cypher,” Ballast said, his voice steady despite the hammering in his chest. He’d never been in a position like this before, but he knew they all needed to stay calm if they were going to make it out alive. Still, he was painfully aware that they were outnumbered and outgunned. Glancing around, he noticed a control panel on the opposite wall. They could use that to short the circuits and get the doors shut to cover their retreat. But they didn’t have enough ammo left to cover him while he worked on it. His heart pounded furiously, his stomach was in his throat, but he forced himself to take a breath and clear his mind. There was a solution. There had to be, and he would find it. 

    A blaster bolt came frighteningly close to their position of cover and Jackal threw his arms up over his head, his metal prosthetic hitting Ballast in the process. Wait….there it was! The solution!

    “Jackal!” Ballast hissed to his brother. “Your prosthetic. We can use it to short that panel and get the doors closed!”

    “You want to use my arm?” 

    “I’ll make you a new one!”

    Jackal’s eyes went wild for a moment before settling with a fierce determination. “All right,” he said, tugging on his prosthetic with his other arm. It came free in his hand and he passed it over to his brother. “But this had better work!”

    “Yeah, I hope you know what you’re doing, Ballast!” Ryder cried, firing off a couple more of his few remaining shots. It wouldn’t be enough to last them if it didn't.

    “So do I,” Ballast replied through gritted teeth as he whipped out a couple of tools from his pockets, opened the sockets of the prosthetic, and set furiously to work. 

    What felt like an eternity but was really only a few moments later, Ballast handed the prosthetic to Ryder. The fist was closed except for the pointer finger, which was extended. “You’ll have to be precise with this shot!”

    “Wait, wait, wait!” Jackal cried, reaching for the prosthetic. Ballast was worried he’d changed his mind about using it, but he merely folded down the pointer finger and extended the middle finger.

    “Really? Right now?” Cypher cried, but before anyone could say anything else, Ryder sucked in a breath and launched the prosthetic at the control panel.

    The metal of the prosthetic alighted with sizzling electricity as it interacted with the panel. The boys held their breath for those agonizing seconds; the last thing they saw was the control panel fizzling and Jackal’s prosthetic dropping to the floor before the doors before them shut. 

    “It was the middle finger that did it,” Jackal voiced before they retreated back the way they had come. 

    Later that night, Ballast sat with a cluster of parts in his lap, working by the light of their campfire. He was determined to make Jackal’s new prosthetic even better than the last. Before long, he heard approaching footsteps and looked up to see Jackal coming over to join him by the fire. He sat down next to Ballast, who in turn shielded his project from Jackal’s eyes with his arm. 

    “Hey, let me see!” Jackal protested, craning his neck to try and sneak a look. 

    “It’s going to be a surprise!” Ballast replied, playfully knocking his brother in the shoulder. 

    “Alright, keep your secrets.” The two of them grew quiet as they gazed into the gently flickering flames. 

    “What a day, huh?” Jackal finally voiced. “You know, we managed to draw enough of the droids’ attention that the others were able to get the data we needed.”

    “So I heard. Glad your sacrifice turned out to be worth it,” Ballast grinned. Jackal just shook his head, growing serious. 

    “How did you do it?” 

    “Oh, well, I had to recalibrate some of the motor functions so that when it hit the panel--”

    “No,” Jackal interrupted Ballast before he was subjected to a long-winded explanation of mechanics. “How did you stay so calm? How weren’t you scared out of your mind like the rest of us?”

    Ballast looked back at the fire. “I was,” he said after a long moment. 

    “Wait, really?” Jackal looked at him incredulously. “Didn’t seem like it.”

    “When I’m working, there’s always a chance that something is going to break, misfire, explode….like a ship on rough water,” Ballast began to explain, his voice soft. “You can’t always predict the way the weather will turn, can’t control the wind or the waves, but you can control the way you carry yourself through it.” He allowed himself a small smile as he looked over at his brother. “Giving in to that fear wasn’t going to help any of us. I just wanted to be strong for us.”

    Jackal smiled broadly back at Ballast, placing his remaining hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Well, thank you. For always being the weight to carry us through. And hey,” he added, “maybe you should make a few more of those prosthetic arms. I kind of like that tactic.” 

    “I think I can do that,” Ballast grinned. Jackal chuckled. 

    “Just try not to let them explode, yeah? At least, not on purpose.” 

    “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

@monako-jinn-stories @just-another-dreamerr @lynnpaper @lavenderstaars @foxlock @maygalodon @letsunity @oo-hazel-oo @generaltano @cosmicghostie @lusiawonder @the-lucky-batch @burnthashbrown27 @stereotypicalpicnicmat @mango-peachjuice @namesmox and other lucksters i missed!

[just-another-dreamerr]

37th Battalion (The Lucky Batch ☘️)

Just some 37th shenanigans✨

Bugs

"What are you up to?" Cypher asked, spotting Foxy sneakily hiding behind a ship in the hangar, his eyes peeking over it.

He jumped, surprised, and placed his hands quickly behind his back, sushing. The interpreter directed a pointed look at whatever he was obviously hiding, and after a moment of hesitation, Foxy gave him a mischievous grin and showed him what was caged by his palms.

A bright, lively moth wriggled from within his fingers.

"Watch this," he whispered, and Cypher stared as he stood out of the hiding spot and walked towards a ship two clones were working intensely.

Oh, this was gonna be great.

"You see if I put this thing here…" Ballast said, tinkering with the panel wires, tongue sticking out in concentration.

Jackal slapped his hands off the console, nudging him away. "Don't you dare touch my ABBA music."

"But what if—"

"Hey, guys!" Foxy called out casually, getting right behind them and placinh his hands between their heads. "Check this thing out."

They both turned around to face him, and froze.

He could actually see their faces morph in half a click from confusion to horror as they saw the creature in his hands, and then—

"GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME."

"KILL IT, KILL IT WITH FIRE."

High pitch screams filled the hangar as Ballast and Jackal springed back fast, trying to get the hell away from the colorful moth he was holding. Cypher was cackling in the background, struggling to get air in between uncontrollable laughter, and the chaos bringer had the biggest, shit eating grin in his face.

"FOXY, I SWEAR, IF YOU DON'T TAKE THAT THING AWAY—"

"Awww, but she's harmless," the clone cooed, thrusting the insect closer to his frantic brother.

Ballast screeched again and threw a wrench, but it was dodged easily and clattered onto the floor. Cypher only laughed harder and Foxy snorted.

"If that thing so much as TOUCHES ME—"

"Relax, vod, it's just a bug. I have it under cont—

The moth wings fluttered for a moment, and took off from his palm before Foxy could stop it. Between the bright lights and the mess of tools and ship parts, it disappeared in a blink.

For a second, nobody moved.

The sharpshooter smiled nervously, feeling his brothers' murderous glares pierce him like a kebab. "Whoops…?"

And then chaos exploded once again.

"WHERE IS IT?"

"IT TOUCHED ME."

"Guys, it's okay, I'm sure it couldn't have gotten far—"

"THAT'S WHAT I'M FREAKING OUT ABOUT."

"BALLAST NO, PUT DOWN THAT EXPLOSIVE—"

@lavenderstaars @lynnpaper @foxlock @maygaladon @radbatch @oo-hazel-oo @letsunity @monako-jinn-stories @mango-peachjuice @lusiawonder @catboy-tech @cosmicghostie :D

[monako-jinn-stories]

The Lucky Batch!☘️

AHHH FINALLY AFTER LIKE A MONTH I FINISHED THIS FIC!!

Prank Wars

“Shh! Here he comes, here he comes!” Boots snickers to Thumbs, who is nervously fidgeting with his fingers. “Relax, Thumbs. It’s just a small one, he won’t be that mad.”

“Hmm, okay,” Thumbs replies. He waits as the Jedi gets closer, and Boots slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Thumbs lets out a snort-like sound and averts his eyes, body shaking as he holds in laughs. Other clones sitting around the mess hall began to take notice of the Jedi as well, some doing better than others to hide their amusement.

“Mind if I sit here?” Mace asks, motioning to the seat across from Boots and Thumbs. Kriff, they were going to lose it.

“Sure thing, General Windu,” Boots manages, briefly looking at the Jedi before quickly looking away again.

“How has Clone Force 37 been lately?”

“We’ve been great, sir. Ballast hasn’t blown up nearly as many things as he usually does,” Boots replies. Thumbs just sits quietly, panic flowing through his veins mixed with amusement.

“Are you okay, Thumbs? I sense some struggle within you,” Mace asks. Thumbs has to use all his strength to drag his eyes forwards to look at the Jedi. When he goes to open his mouth to speak, all that comes out are laughs.

“Is there something funny?” Mace questions, looking behind him and expecting to find a scene.

“W-well, General,” Thumbs says, biting his lip to try and calm his laughter, “you have a little something right…here…” he says, motioning in circles around his eyes. Mace’s brows furrow before he looks in the closest mirror like object. His mouth drops slightly and he quickly turns back to face the clones before him. The two clones had put ink on the Jedi’s macrobinoculars earlier, and now there were turquoise circles around his eyes.

“I’m going to assume it was someone from your Lucky Batch that did this?” Mace says dryly as he looks back at the clones, his expression much less amused than the rest of the room.

“We wouldn’t know anything about it,” Boots lies. Mace’s eyes narrow before he leaves the room, heading to a refresher to wash off his face. Little does he know, that’s the paint they use for their armor, which has a tendency to remain stuck on skin for weeks.

~~~

“Careful! Don’t step on it, Ballast!” Jackal says as he places down the bubble wrap.

“Well why did you start on that side? How are we supposed to get out without stepping on it?” Ballast retorts. Jackal purses his lips for a second, realizing his mistake.

“Okay, we’ll just pick it up and then put it back down when we leave,” he responds before going back to covering the rest of the floor. The clones had been in the Jedi’s room almost all day, and the amount of area they’d managed to cover with bubble wrap was amazing. No spot was safe from them, not even the refresher.

“Okay, I think we can start our exit now,” Jackal says as he looks over the room. The two clones worked to finish their “project”, laying down bubble wrap until they reached the door. Once outside, they high five with smug looks on their faces. Then they hear him coming, and dive around the corner that happens to be right next to Mace’s room. They listen intently before they hear his door open, and the sudden shriek from the poor man when “pop”s erupt under his step.

The clones break out in laughter as they listen, Ballast losing his balance and falling from behind their cover. He looks up and makes eye contact with Mace, who is standing in his doorway.

“Run!” Ballast yells at his brother before he pushes himself up and sprints away down the hall, away from the angry Jedi.

~~~

“I feel like this is a bit mean,” Ryder says as he stands with his brother.

“It was a bit mean to make us all clean the entire Jedi temple for Ballast and Jackal’s prank,” Skip responds.

“Yeah, but, I’m still new. I don’t want to be transferred because of this. I don’t want to lose another family,” Ryder argues.

“Hey,” Skip said, placing a gentle hand on Ryder’s shoulder, “you won’t lose us, and you won’t be transferred. I promise, okay?”

Ryder nods, but he’s still hesitant with their idea.

“Just be glad I’m going for one of my more laid back pranks,” Skip adds. “Okay, here he comes. Act natural.”

Ryder picks up his mug and takes a sip of his drink.

“General Windu, good morning!” Skip says as the Jedi walks in. He nods to the clone, a brief acknowledgment as he wanders over to the pot of caf.

“Is this stuff fresh today?” He questions, looking at it suspiciously. “I had some the other day that was at least a standard week old.”

“Fresh as a cucumber,” Skip says.

“Fresh as a cucumber?” Ryder questions, the saying not making any sense.

“It’s the first thing that came to mind,” his brother shrugs, eyes flicking back to Mace as he poured a cup of caf. They both watch as the Jedi takes a big swig, his face pleased for a few seconds before it slowly changes. They can see the moment the hot sauce kicks in, and Mace’s gaze quickly finds theirs.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Skip chuckles as the Jedi’s expression grows angry, “it’s a special blend of ours. We like to add a bit of hot sauce to our caf.”

“Hot sauce?” He breaths out, the heat in his mouth burning furiously.

“Yeah, it adds a nice kick,” Skip responds. “Right, Ryder?”

“Uh, yeah. It really gets things nice and hot,” he adds.

“W-water,” Mace chokes out. He looks around frantically for a sink. When he does, he pours out the coffee and turns it on to fill his mug with water. But nothing comes out.

“Oh, the water isn’t working in here for some reason,” Skips says. Mace’s eyes went even wider before he ran to the fridge.

“I drank the last of the milk, sorry,” Ryder adds. “But I think this might help.” Ryder hands Mace a bottle of vinegar, and the Jedi looks grateful for him at first. When he takes a swig, however, his eyes dart to Ryder’s, and the clone feels his soul leave his body.

“Run!” Skips yells before grabbing his brother and sprinting from the room.

~~~

“Okay, just loop that string through there and…done!” Sparks straightens up and turns to high-five his brother. Cypher has a mischievous and happy grin from setting up the trap with Sparks.

“Ballast may be the mechanic, but I’m the engineer,” Sparks says while admiring their work. “And my stuff doesn’t explode.”

“Well, hopefully it’ll work,” Cypher replies.

“Oh, it’ll work, don’t worry about that. You just have to worry about Mace finding out it was us,” Sparks snickers. He gives the discrete system one last look over before ushering his brother out of the room. They slip around the corner and peek around, waiting for the Jedi to appear.

Sparks can’t help but giggle excitedly as he waits, anticipation for the scene.

“Shh, shh, here he comes!” Sparks whispers before slinking out from their hiding spot and into the hall. As Mace reaches his door, the two clones walk slowly and casually down the hall, careful to not miss anything.

“Hey, it’s about to happen,” Cypher says while nudging Sparks.

As Mace enters his password, the boys hold their breath and watch. The second he steps into the room, he triggers the wire.

Air horns blast as confetti and glitter flies into the air, a bucket of slime tipping over and pouring onto Mace.

Laughter erupts from the brothers as they stand just past Mace’s door. They were keeling over, bodys trembling from their amusement.

“Find something funny?” An angry voice asks from behind them. They immediately stop laughing and look at the Jedi before each other. They make a silent agreement before bolting in different directions. If they split up, Mace wouldn’t be able to catch both.

He didn’t even end up chasing either of them, just angrily sighing before stomping back into his room.

~~~

Rane worked by himself, that much was common knowledge. So it was no surprise that he was going to prank by himself.

It was the middle of the night, and after casually watching the Jedi over the course of the week, he had been able to find out the code to his quarters. And now he was enacting his master plan.

“Alright, little buddy. I know this isn’t exactly a good place to be releasing you, but I need you to trust me, okay?” Rane looks down at the spider in his hands, and it stares back silently.

Rane quickly types in the code to the Jedi’s room and slips inside, shutting the door behind himself. He creeps his way over to the bedroom door before pausing. He looks down at the spider again before slowly opening the door. He peers inside to see Mace snoring into his pillow. He stifles a laugh before slowly bending down.

“I need you to go over and crawl onto him. Try to wake him up, if possible.”

The spider merely stares back silently again before Rane sets him down. He closes the bedroom door before rushing out the main door and into the hall. He silently waits outside of it, hoping that it wouldn’t be too long before he gets a reaction.

Just as he is about to open the door and check on the spider, he hears a scream come from inside. He claps a hand over his mouth as he doubles over in laughter. Never, in his existence, would he have thought Mace’s voice could go so high.

“AHHHH! GET IT OFF! GET IT OUT!” Mace screams from inside his room. Footsteps approach the other side of the door, and Rane barely has time to jump out of the way as the Jedi runs out into the hall.

“General Windu! Is everything alright?” Rane asks as seriously as he could muster. Mace looks at him with sheer terror in his eyes before it changes.

“You. You did this,” he says, pointing a finger at Rane as an angry expression settles on his face.

“Did what, sir?” Rane asks, still trying to act oblivious.

“The spider. This was your doing. How did you get inside my room?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”

“I’ll give you one more chance to come clean. Just admit that this was you, and I’ll let you go.”

Rane stares at him blankly before his eyes dart to the ground. The spider was crawling out and towards Mace again.

“Like I said, sir. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mace’s eyes narrow before they shoot wide again. He looks down to see the spider crawling up his robes, and he screams as he runs away, shaking his robes violently to try and shake it off. When it does fall to the ground, Rane picks it up and carries him back to the barracks.

“Gotta return you to Foxy,” he says as he makes his way back.

~~~

“Okay, do you think this is enough?” Jack asks as he motions to the tray of cookies.

“That’s perfect!” Foxy says, Pepper nodding beside him.

“Okay, so just tell me one more time how-“

“Maker, Jack. Okay, so, we are going to put your cookies out as bait,” Foxy says, Jack nodding along as he listens, “General Windu is going to see the cookies, and he’s going to go over and eat one,”

“Right,”

“And then, we’re going to release the ants,”

“Okay this is where I get confused.”

“What are you confused about?” Pepper asks.

“The ants are just going to know where to go?”

“Yes.”

“And just in case, we’ll leave a trail of crumbs to lead them over to where they need to go,” Foxy added.

“Alright, let’s just hope this works,” Jack says while turning to the door of the Jedi’s quarters. He quickly types in the password Rane had given them, and they sneak inside. Jack took his cookies over to the table where they would bait Mace, Foxy laid a trail of crumbs over, and Pepper checked on the ants.

“Alright, everything is set up,” Foxy says as they all meet back up at the door.

“Ants are ready,” Pepper confirms.

“I can smell the cookies from here,” Jack says proudly. “There’s no way General Windu will be able to resist.”

“And now we wait,” Foxy says, leading them out the door and down the hall. It was just their luck that Mace happened to be returning to his room as they walked.

“General Windu,” Pepper nods, earning a brief nod from the Jedi.

Mace pauses for a second to turn and look at the retreating clones, suspicion running wild. He dismisses it though, as he didn’t expect Jack or Pepper to ever attempt to prank him.

As he enters his room, he’s immediately overcome with the smell of fresh cookies.

“Maybe this is an apology,” he thinks out loud. He smiles and walks over to the kitchen where he finds the cookies waiting. He eagerly grabs one and sniffs it, making sure nothing smells out of the ordinary. When he’s satisfied that they’re harmless, he takes a bite. His eyes shoot open and he swallows before hurriedly taking another bite.

“Maker, I know Kenhla said Jack’s baking was good, but this…this is-“ his sentence was cut off by him shoving another cookie into his mouth. As he goes to grab a third, he lets out a shriek as he feels something run across his hand. He looks down and sees ants crawling over to the cookies.

“What the-where are all these ants coming from?” Mace says, suddenly becoming frantic. “No no no! Not the cookies!” He watches as the ants scramble over the treats, taking chunks off them and carrying them away.

“I wanted to eat those,” Mace whines as he falls on his knees, facing down sadly.

“Should I make him another batch? I kind of feel bad,” Jack asks. The clones had snuck back over and we’re standing outside the door, listening to Mace inside.

“No! The whole idea of the prank was that he didn’t get the cookies!” Foxy says.

“You can give him a cookie sticker,” Pepper says, pulling one from his pocket.

“Good idea!” Jack says, taking it over and slipping it under the door. He suddenly hears footsteps approaching, and before he can stand up, the door whooshes open.

“…cookie sticker?” Jack asks hesitantly, watching as Mace’s gaze turns deadly.

“Come on, Jack!” Pepper says, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him away from the seething Mace.

“What about my ants?” Foxy yells.

“Get new ones!” Both Jack and Pepper respond as they flee the scene.

~~~

Kenhla walks into the room to find all her clones sitting in a circle while Raffle walks around them, fly swatter in hand and smacking each on top of the head as he passes.

“You,” *smack, “are,” *smack*, “NOT,” *smack*, “allowed,” *smack*, “to,” *smack*, “prank,” *smack*, “Jedi,” *smack*, “that,” *smack*, “aren’t,” *smack*, “in,” *smack*, “your,” *smack*, “battalion!” *smack*. “ESPECIALLY,” *smack*, “NOT,” *smack*, “MACE,” *smack*, “WINDU!” *smack*.

“What’s going on?” She asks her Padawans.

“Raffle found out about the prank wars the others had on Master Windu,” Brisk explains.

“I thought they were pretty funny,” Luna giggles.

“STOP SMACKING ME!” Skip says as Raffle rains down a bunch of swats.

“I KNOW THIS WAS YOUR IDEA!”

“BUT THE OTHERS HELPED! AT LEAST SWAT THEM MORE AS WELL!”

“Oh, don’t worry, I will,” Raffle says before moving into the next person, which happens to be Jack.

“Hey! I didn’t want to do this!” Jack defends.

“BUT YOU STILL DID!” He says before moving on again.

“Sorry, Ryder. I gotta do this,” Raffle says, almost apologetically.

“S’alright. I understand.”

“Maker, don’t make me feel bad about it,” Raffle says as he quickly swats the newest member.

“How long has he been swatting them?” Kenhla asks.

“About 20 minutes,” Brisk responds.

“And you’ve just been sitting here?”

“I made popcorn!” Luna says while holding the bowl out towards her master. Kenhla smiles and takes a piece, popping it in her mouth and settling down with her padawans to watch the clone Captain reprimand his batch.

The Lucksters!

@lavenderstaars @lynnpaper @foxlock @maygalodon @oo-hazel-oo @mango-peachjuice @radbatch @letsunity @burnthashbrown27 @generaltano @catboy-tech @cosmicghostie @namesmox @monako-jinn-stories @longearedowlfromouterspace @lusiawonder @just-another-dreamerr

[the-lucky-batch]

Jackal: *walks into the room*

Ballast: who’s birthday is it? ‘Cause that’s a lot of cake

[the-lucky-batch]

Ballast: my main goal is to blow up, and then act like I don’t know nobody. Hahahahaha

[the-lucky-batch]

Sparks: it’s not going to work

Ballast: yes it will. Just close the door for me, okay?

Sparks: fine, but if you get in trouble, I never helped

Ballast: I’m not going to get in trouble

*later that night, Sparks is hiding in the fridge*

Raffle, getting up while everyone else is asleep and goes into the kitchen:c h e e s e t i m e

Raffle,opening the fridge:

Ballast: HA! I caught you-Captain?!

Raffle: I wasn’t getting the shredded cheese!

Ballast: you’re the one who’s been eating it?!

Raffle,unconvincingly: n-no!

Ballast: EVERYONE! WAKE UP! THE CHEESE THIEF IS RAFFLE!

Raffle: BALLAST IF YOU DONT SHUT UP I WILL HIT YOU WITH THE FLY SWATTER!

Ballast: RAFFLE IS A CHEESE THIEF! RAFFLE IS A CHEESE THIEF!

[the-lucky-batch]

*in the arms of the angel playing in the background*

Ballast: every day…I’m hustling

[monako-jinn-stories]

The Lucky Batch ☘️

Another Clone Force 37 story :D

Smelly Stickers?

Ryder silently wandered down the market, looking for a place that sold stickers. It was a strange thing to look for, and he had no idea where to find them. He ran a finger down his braided hair nervously, fidgeting with the plaits Boots had delicately weaved. The dye was still fresh, and the scent of it wafted into his face with every breeze. His buzzed sides did nothing to shield his ears from the chilled air, and he felt them turning pink.

“Excuse me,” he said, walking up to a random vendor.

“Ah, hello there, clone. What can I get ya? Meiloorun?” The vendor asked, leaning forward on his durasteel stand.

“Oh, uh, no, sir. I was wondering if you could help me find something else?”

“Whatcha lookin’ for?”

“Stickers…” he said, an embarrassed flush rising to his cheeks.

“Stickers? You got a kid? Didn’t think clones had children,” the vendor said as he looked at the clone quizzically.

“Ah, no. It’s…it’s for a friend.”

“A friend? Didn’t think you had those either.”

Ryder looked down, shuffling his feet slightly.

“It uh, it would mean a lot if you could help me,” he said, ignoring the vendors comment, still looking at his toes.

“Sure thing. Just keep heading down that way until you pass 9 stands on the right side. Then it’ll be right there.”

“Thank you,” Ryder said before turning and heading down to the direction he was pointed in. When he reached the booth, his eyes went wide at the options.

“Hello, friend! Looking for some stickers today?” An enthusiastic dathomirian vendor asked.

“Yeah, they’re for my friend,” Ryder explained, dragging his eyes away to look at her. She seemed friendly enough. A pang of hurt ran through him as he remembered his old dathomirian General.

“What kind are you looking for? I have lots of options. There’s animals, bugs, GAR themed, Jedi themed, holographic…” She continued to list more, all of it going in one ear and out the other for Ryder.

“Uhh, I’m not sure. I’ll just look around, if that’s alright.”

“Sure thing! Just let me know if you need help,” she nodded, moving to help another customer.

Ryder took his time studying all the different stickers. He really wanted something special, as a thanks for Pepper’s enthusiastic first sticker he had given him. It was a large “FAMILY” sticker, and it had made Ryder so happy, but all he had managed at the time was a weak smile and teary eyed nod. He wanted to make up for his lack of a response, so he decided to get Pepper some more stickers.

After a few minutes, he curiously picked out a pack that said, “scratch and sniff.”

“What are these?” Ryder asked, turning and holding them out for the vendor to see.

“Oh! Those are smelly stickers! When you scratch them, they smell!”

“Smell…good?”

“Yeah! You can also get bad smelling ones for pranks.”

“Oh, okay. I guess I’ll get all the different types of these.”

“ALL of them?” She said, her eyes going wide.

“Yeah…that’s not too much, is it?”

“Uh…no, not if you want to have a full year's supply.”

“That’s perfect! Thank you!” He said, smiling for the first time since dinner last night. The vendor quickly grabbed a bag and filled it up with all her different scratch and sniff stickers, then turned back to him.

“That’ll be 50 credits.” Ryder handed her the money and took the bag, waving as he headed back to the barracks.

~~~

“Ryder! Where have you been? You missed breakfast,” Ballast said as he walked in. “Ooooh, what’s in the bag?”

“Uh, it’s actually a surprise for Pepper,” Ryder said, causing Ballast to halt and look at him curiously.

“A surprise? Is it ready? Can I know what it is?”

“Uh, it’s not quite ready. I have to put it in a different bag first.”

“Oh, well, I know Thumbs has gift bags somewhere.”

“Okay, thanks,” Ryder said before going to find Thumbs.

“Hey, Thumbs,” he said, wandering into the room that had his bunk, “Ballast said you had some gift bags, do you think I could use one?”

“Gift bags? Sure! There’s one right over here.” He got up from his bunk and wandered over to the closet, shoving some things around, a box falling on his head before he pulled back and held a bag out triumphantly. They both watched as everything began to slowly lean forward. Thumbs quickly slammed the closet shut, stopping everything from tumbling out onto the floor.

“Thanks,” Ryder said, earning a double thumbs up from his brother. He let a small smile spread over his lips before he turned and went to his own bunk room. He sat on his bed and quickly took the packs of stickers out, putting a big label on the bag that read, “PEPPER.”

“Hey, Ryder. Ballast said you had a surprise for me?” Pepper said, walking in right as Ryder finished.

“Oh! Yeah, I just finished putting it in here,” he said, motioning to the bag. “I-I wanted to thank you for being so friendly and welcoming to me. My old battalion, I loved them, and I miss them so much, but you guys are different here. I mean, you’re even gave me my name.”

Pepper grinned widely at his brother before pulling him into a tight hug.

“Anything for fellow Lucksters!”

Ryder returned his grin, though not nearly as wide. He held out the bag for Pepper to take, watching anxiously as he stuck his hand in. He pulled it out slowly, looking down at the stickers in his hand.

“Scratch and sniff?” He questioned, looking up at Ryder.

“The vendor said that when you scratch them, they smell.” Pepper’s eyes slowly got wide as he processed Ryder’s words. His mouth dropped before he eagerly began scratching at one. He brought it up to his nose and let out a gag before smiling crazily.

“THIS IS AMAZING! IT SMELLS JUST LIKE DUNG!” He pointed at the dung sticker that he had scratched, his eyes sparkling as if he was staring at the most amazing thing in the galaxy. “THANK YOU SO MUCH RYDER!” He engulfed his brother in another rib crushing hug before pulling back and smiling evilly.

“I HAVE TO GO STICK DUNG STICKERS ON RAFFLE’S HELMET!” He said, his whole body practically vibrating in excitement before running out of the room, stickers flying out of the bag as he went. Ryder finally let a toothy grin break through, proud to have gotten such a good gift for Pepper.

“Did you get him stickers?” Ballast asked while walking in and taking note of the fallen stickers.

“Yeah, they’re a special kind. If you scratch them, they smell.”

“Maker, I bet he loved those,” Ballast laughed.

“Yeah, he does,” Ryder agreed, smiling to himself again.

@lavenderstaars @lynnpaper @foxlock @maygaladon @radbatch @oo-hazel-oo @letsunity @mango-peachjuice @lusiawonder @catboy-tech @cosmicghostie @just-another-dreamerr @longearedowlfromouterspace @generaltano @namesmox I’m sorry if I forgot some Lucky Batch members!

[ahsokasshoto]

*Dr Frankenstein voice*

i have created liiiife

NOW INTRODUCING CLONE TROOPER BALLAST OF CLONE FORCE 37 "THE LUCKY BATCH"

(i was so lazy on the coloring//shading do not mind it also i'm terrible at faces/eyes/drawing in general lololol 🙈🙈🙈)

@letsunity @oo-hazel-oo @lavenderstaars @just-another-freaking-dreamer @lusiawonder @foxlock @maygaladon @catboy-tech

[monako-jinn-stories]

The Lucky Batch ☘️

Fortune Cookies

Ryder walked in quietly, a blank expression on his face. No one took notice as he stood and looked around the room. He let a smirk slowly grow as he reached into his bag, grabbing a surprise. He lifted his arm and threw the object at Ballast, watching as it hit his head.

“Hey! What was that for?” Ballast said while looking up, slightly confused.

“Look at it,” Ryder replied. Ballast hesitantly looked down before a grin came to his face.

“It’s a fortune cookie!”

“What? Why don’t I get one?” Foxy said as he frowned at his brother.

“Don’t worry, I got us all one,” Ryder said before chucking one at Foxy’s head. He repeated that action for everyone in the room, ending with Thumbs, who gave him a thumbs up when he received his.

“Oh! Can I read mine first?” Pepper asked excitedly. The others nodded, letting their brother read.

“It says, ‘sticky days are coming.’ Does that mean more stickers?! I think it means more stickers!” He nearly yelled, excitedly reaching into his pocket and slapping a fortune cookie sticker on his nearest brother, which happened to be Cypher.

“Ha! Mine says, ‘you’re going to be blown away soon.’ Do you think that has something to do with blowing something up?” Ballast questioned.

“If by something, you mean yourself, then yes,” Skip responded, to which Ballast stuck his tongue out at.

“Don’t listen to him, Ballast. I’m sure your next project will work!” Thumbs said, trying to reassure his brother.

“I can tell you’re lying, but thanks anyways.”

“Everyone quiet, I’m going to read mine,” Jackal announced. “‘Something will crash land into your life.’ Do you think it’s a new ship?”

“Please, for the love of the Maker, no,” Ryder said, suppressing a shiver.

“What’s going on in here?” Raffle said as he walked into the room, seeing the clones all holding tiny pieces of paper.

“Ryder brought us fortune cookies, and they’re strangely accurate,” Boots said.

“Fortune cookies?”

“Yeah. Here, mine says, ‘you are about to witness something that might possibly end someone’s life…’” Jack said, his words slowly as he got further down the sentence. He looked up and met Raffle’s confused expression before it happened. He clapped a hand to his mouth to stop his laughter as a fortune cookie bounced off of Raffle’s face.

“S-sorry Captain,” Ryder said as he tried not to laugh. “I wasn’t aiming directly for your face.” Raffle merely slowly turned to face Ryder, his eyes narrowing as he stared dangerously at the clone.

“Run,” was all the Captain said before Ryder’s eyes went wide, dropping the bag and sprinting from the room, Raffle chasing after him.

“What was that all about?” General Whiro asked as she walked in.

“Ryder threw a fortune cookie at Raffle’s face,” Sparks snickered.

“And I got it on holovideo!” Luna added happily. A minute later, as they all sat around and discussed their fortunes, Ryder ran back in, out of breath.

“Hide me! He has the fly swatter!” He then dove behind Brisk and Rane, trying to shield himself from their Captain.

“Where is he?” Raffle said as he walked in, eyes scanning the room.

“He went that way,” Rane replied, pointing out the far door.

“Thanks,” Raffle said before running out, shoving G00-S out of the way as he went.

“You’re safe now, Ryder,” Brisk said while patting his head.

“You know, I think I’m going to stay back here for a little while longer…just in case.” The others in the room laughed before going back to their previous activities, only for Raffle to run back in right as Ryder came out of hiding. Another deadly chase ensued, and it lasted all night until G00-S tripped Ryder and Raffle tackled him, swatting at him with the fly swatter.

@lusiawonder @lavenderstaars @namesmox @generaltano @foxlock @just-another-dreamerr @mango-peachjuice @cosmicghostie @lynnpaper @longearedowlfromouterspace @oo-hazel-oo @maygaladon @radbatch @letsunity sorry if I left some Lucky Batch members out!

[letsunity]

Updated Lucky Batch!

@letsunity = CT-2002, Pepper, the “Medic” of Clone Force 37. He got his name after eating pepper spray that one time. He LOVES stickers. 

@maygaladon = CT-1313, Jackal, the ‘special’ specialist and Pilot. He’s knowledgably in very specific things and crashes more often than General Anakin Skywalker.

@foxlock= CT-3425, "Foxy", the over-enthusiastic sharpshooter of the team. Likes to make people laugh with his antics, but has been known to be the moody one of the bunch. Quiet around new people. Sarcastic. May have "accidentally" shot at General Skywalker after someone had dared him to. Also, Foxy is a hopeless romantic. Be prepared for elbow nudges and eyebrow wiggling.

@radbatch = CT-5050, Ballast, the Mechanic. He’s a blast, mostly because half of his inventions explode.

@monako-jinn-stories = CT-0017, Ryder, he’s the weapons specialist. He provides the best weapons and teaches his batchmates how to use them. He got his name because he refuses to walk anywhere. He’s always riding something, whether it’s a speeder or a walker, he’s never using his own two legs.

@oo-hazel-oo = CT-1800, Thumbs, the moral support/unlicensed therapist. Provides emotionally assistance, shooting a thumbs up every now and again.

@lusiawonder = CT- 8201, Boots, who does his very best and is the sharpshooter. 

@longearedowlfromouterspace = CT-0123, Jack, the jack of all trades who tries his darn hardest and ‘accidentally’ makes things go on fire. 

@lynnpaper = CT- 2531, Captain Raffle, the only braincell left in the batch, 

@just-another-freaking-dreamer = Jedi Knight, Master Mirkenna Whiro, the Jedi who can’t Jedi so bad that they got Clone Force 37, the batch that won’t die. 

Goose the Homicidal Droid. 

Our colour is turquoise, the emblem is a three leaved clover. We were too incompetent to make it right,

We are going to smother Tumblr XD

[letsunity]

Introducing the Lucky Batch, the worst soldiers in the Republic Army

@letsunity = CT-2002, Pepper, the “Medic” of Clone Force 37. He got his name after eating pepper spray that one time. 

@maygaladon = CT-1313, Jackal, the ‘special’ specialist and Pilot. He’s knowledgably in very specific things and crashes more often than General Anakin Skywalker.

@radbatch = CT-5050, Ballast, the Mechanic. He’s a blast, mostly because half of his inventions explode. 

@oo-hazel-oo = CT-0000, Hazel, the moral support/unlicensed therapist. Provides emotionally assistance, shooting a thumbs up every now and again. 

What’re your Lucky Batch numbers, names and specialties lol? There should be a whole fic about our dumbass antics

@mango-peachjuice @lavenderstaars @lusiawonder @foxlock @just-another-freaking-dreamer @generaltano @longearedowlfromouterspace @monako-jinn-stories @striker-reckoning @maddpotatoxd