#BUT nine sols characters in outer wilds setting could work I think!!!

[17magpiesinatrenchcoat]

guys what if. what if nine sols x outer wilds crossover au

[luminousbeansarewe]

wandering stars

ch 16: what’s given

pairings: none || rating: teen || characters: original characters, original clone trooper characters, nala se

tags: discussion of medical procedures

chapter list

tagged: @yourbitchystudentartist​ @lordimperius​ @tupdidtherightthing​ (message me or reply if you’d like to be tagged!)

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Kamino, Tipoca City, Clone Military Education Complex, 22BBY

    Usually, during the blink of rec time between dinner and lights-out, Cronos Squad could be found playing grav-ball, sparring (the boys were determined to best Sol at hand-to-hand, though since she’d stopped going easy on them not one of them had managed it), arm wrestling, or fitting in some extra target practice. The things that most of the clones did.

    But once in a while they’d all end up at their bunks, listening to Sol talk about the rest of the galaxy. Having been here in the diffused, sterile white light of the Kaminoan facilities their entire lives, with no knowledge about the outside world other than what they’d learned in their early education classes and holovids, storytime with Sol even drew the occasional crowd. 

    “What’s your favorite planet you’ve ever been to?” asked a clone who’d crowded onto Grip’s bed with him to listen, who everyone was calling Angel.

    “Hm,” Sol murmured, rubbing her bottom lip pensively with her knuckle. Truth be told, she was a little spaced out— she was sitting down on Stone’s bunk, letting him practice braiding her long, white hair. Every time he gathered a little more hair from each side of her head to weave into it, a calming sensation came over her. It was nearly the only time she could recall enjoying being touched by anyone. The big clone was gentle, and took his time as he listened. 

    “Was it Coruscant?” asked another clone from a little above, in the bunks next to the ones Cronos Squad occupied. 

    “No,” she said decidedly. “Absolutely not.”

    “What! But there’s so much to do!” 

    “That’s why I hate it. There’s a lot of noise, and a lot of lights, and it never stops. It’s maddening.” 

    “Sounds like my kinda place,” another clone chuckled. 

    “What about Hosnian Prime?” The questions were being volleyed from all over now, by clones she’d never even met.

    “I spent most of my time in the Outer Rim,” she disclaimed with a wave of her hand. “Sometimes the Mid Rim. Not much in the Core.”

    “Why not?” asked Twofer.

    “Didn’t have the money,” she said with a grin. 

    “Are the Outer Rim planets really as run-down as everybody says?” asked Angel. 

    “Some of them are, but not all of them.”

    “What about wild space?”

    “It’s barely settled at all, though there’s still trade that comes in and out.” 

    “You never answered the question, little’un,” Stone reminded her. Sol had stopped rolling her eyes at that nickname about two months ago. He was, after all, larger than his vode and therefore a lot larger than her. 

    “Well, it’s hard to say. I’m fond of nice landscapes, with not that many people. Like Kaller, or Takodana. But sometimes a place that’s not green is nice too, like the desert on Cantonica.” 

    “Or Tattooine,” suggested another clone. 

    “Mm.” The mention of that particular planet seemed to draw her lips thin. “So, it’s hard to say. I have the most fond memories of Takodana, though.”

    “What’s it like?” Grip asked, bouncing a little on his bed. 

    “It’s beautiful,” Sol said, closing her eyes as memories ran through her mind on a slow reel, awash with the same wonder she’d always felt as a child when looking out the viewport on their way to the surface. “It’s covered in lush green, and little pale blue lakes that settle between the forested hills like the planet’s a million hands held together, letting the rain collect in its palms. The air’s always a little hazy, with wisps of low clouds vanishing behind every corner as you come into low atmo. It smells green, and rich, like anything would grow if you just threw it on the ground.”

    “Wow,” murmured a clone who was sitting on the floor, eyes wide. 

    “Are there any people there?” asked a clone she’d heard called Niko before. 

    “Only a few,” she said, unable to keep a sly grin off her face. “They tend to be travellers, wanderers, smugglers. Pirates. Chaavla types. Just passing through or laying low awhile. It’s something of a safe haven.”

    “How’s it safe if there’s dangerous people there?” Swift asked, frowning.

    “There’s a no-fighting rule. Anyone can go there, as long as they keep their hands to themselves. It’s really the only settlement on the planet, and the ahlor, the boss, says no fighting. By anyone. Ever. Or she has the ancient assassin droid kick you out.” This caused a murmur among the listeners. 

    “Ancient assassin droid, huh?” murmured Twofer. 

    “They say the castle there once belonged to the Jedi, and there are tombs more than five thousand years old in the catacombs below it,” Sol added, remembering her childhood fascinations. “But it was a derelict when the boss took it over. That was nearly nine hundred years ago.”

    “Wait— the same boss?” asked Angel, eyebrows shooting up. “Are they immortal?” 

    “She always said she wasn’t, but I’m not convinced,” Sol replied. Another murmur, and she had really begun to enjoy the excitement and curiosity and doubt of her enraptured audience. 

    “Tragic there’s a no-fightin’ rule. Means we probably won’t ever get to go there,” Grip said, his smirk wry. 

    “Yeah, that’s too bad,” Swift added. “I wanna meet the assassin droid.” 

    “You would,” Twofer laughed. 

    “Cadets!” came a sharp voice— another clone in captain’s armor was coming down the hall. All the clones who weren’t in their own bunks jumped up from the floor or down from the beds they were hanging out on, and stood at attention nervously. “Lights out! Back where you belong!” 

    They scattered, murmuring ‘yessir’s as they went. The remaining clones hovered, not sure if they should be standing at attention or just staying where they were. 

    “Cadet Tannor, you’re wanted in the Primary Medical Facilities,” the captain said from under his helmet as it bent down to look at Sol. 

    “Oh,” she muttered, surprised. “Yes, sir. I’ll… uh… figure out how to get there.”

    “Do you need an escort?” The captain sounded annoyed.

    “I can take her, sir,” Swift offered, stepping out onto the ladder that led down from his bunk.

    “Thank you, cadet,” said the buckethead with audible relief. “The rest of you, lights out. And you two, no wandering on your way back.” 

    “Yes, sir,” Sol and Swift said almost in unison. When the armored man began walking away, Sol shuffled over to where her shoes were tucked away at the bottom of the bunk unit. 

    “I could’ve figured it out, you know,” she said flatly to Swift, who was also pulling on his uniform shoes. 

    “Yeah, but now you don’t have to,” he said, trying on a charming smile. While he did have a certain charm, at that moment it didn’t work even a little on Sol. She frowned, and strode out to the open passage between the bunk units. 

    “G’night, boys,” she said to Twofer, Grip, and Stone. Then, she reached up and touched her head, recalling the braid there. Tugging it over her shoulder, she stared down at it in surprise. “How’d you do that?” 

    “It’s easy once you get the hang of it,” Stone replied with a shrug. 

    “Will you teach me one day?” 

    “Sure.”

    Sol smiled, and turned back to exit. Swift fell in beside her at his eternally antsy pace. 

    “So what’s all this about, d’ya think?” he asked with entirely too much innocence.

    “I’m going to have to shoot you one day, aren’t I?” 

    “Sol! You’re so mean to me for no reason!” he whined, exaggerating his dismay. Her eyes cut around to the bunks they were still making their way through, at the cadets who were still settling in before sliding into darkness and sleep. 

    “Copaani mirshmure'cye, Swift?” she growled in a low voice at him. “Because I’ll do it. Shut up at least till we’re outta range, please.”

    “Fair,” he murmured with a nod.  Then he fell into an obliging silence, leading her out of the barracks and around a hallway she’d never seen to a set of transparisteel doors, then down another hall to a lift. 

    “But really,” he said as the lift door closed and they started to ascend. “Is something going on?” 

    “I have no idea, actually,” she replied, her jaw tense.

    “Really?” He raised a brow at her. 

    “Yes, really.” She threw him a look he’d started to get to know pretty well, a stern brow and a sharp glance that meant she was deadly serious. “I can't imagine what they’re summoning me for. I’m not feeling… different. I haven’t reported anything. Unless someone is reporting behind my back, but that would make you auretti, wouldn’t it?” 

    “You know I would never betray you, Sol.”

    To be fair, she didn’t suspect him, not really. She was just hoping he might stop being so persistent in worrying about her, ever. But this was starting to look like a long-term responsibility he’d taken upon himself. 

    “Yeah,” she sighed. “So, your guess is as good as mine.”

    They went through another maze of hallways until the light became conspicuously brighter, more abrasive. Which usually meant a medical center, inside the CMEC. Swift stopped as he came abreast of a set of doors, and before he could turn around and say anything to her, the doors swirled open to reveal a tall Kaminoan woman she’d never seen before. 

    “Sol Tannor,” the alien said in her high, airy voice. “And who’s this?”

    “CT-3990, ma’am,” Swift responded. “I was just escorting—”

    “Thank you, cadet. You may wait outside.” The fact that Kaminoans all spoke in the same mellow, low-variation lilt all the time didn’t make her statement any less final. 

    “Uh, yes ma’am,” Swift said, surprised but dutiful. Sol nodded to him, then walked through the doorway. When it closed, the alien held out her hands.

    “I am Nala Se,” she said. “I am the Chief Medical Scientist here. It is nice to meet you at last, Sol Tannor.” 

    “At last, ma’am?” 

    “We have been studying your genome for some time. You may be happy to hear that we’ve discovered the cause for the pain you are experiencing.”

    Sol tensed, instantly uncomfortable. “I… didn’t know you were looking.”

    “It’s been a side project of ours since your injury a few months ago,” Se explained. “We suspected a genetic cause. As you know, we Kaminoans take a great interest in such things.”

    “I see.” 

    The impossibly elongated figure of Se turned and pressed a panel on the nearby wall to bring up a display that showed a holomap of what Sol assumed was a strand of her own DNA. 

    “It appears that the gene responsible for the production of your proteins is malfunctioning,” Se said, zooming in on some part of the map. All of it made little sense to Sol, who regarded the medical diagram with something just shy of suspicion-- but not void of curiosity. “But it is only a partial malfunction. There are a great many proteins created in the human body. The most abundant is collagen. Your collagen production is at much less than half its ideal output. This causes your tendons to be weak, or missing entirely. Until we do a full body scan, we cannot be sure of how many of yours remain intact.” She turned massive, blinking eyes back to Sol. “It is surprising, to us at least, that your bones remain in place.”

    “Sometimes… they don’t,” Sol replied softly. “I reset them.”

    “Is it not painful?”

    “It is. But I’m used to it.” 

    “So, this condition has manifested for some time?” 

    “Most of my life.” Sol could feel her jaw tightening again. “Is this the only reason I’ve been summoned, ma’am?” 

    “It is not,” Se replied, not betraying any annoyance if she felt it. “While I’m afraid we were unable to develop a means by which to correct this genetic defect, we have engineered something else which may be beneficial to you.” 

    “Really?” Now she was really curious, one white eyebrow raised.

    “It is a chip, which we would insert here,” Se continued, changing the display to a holo of a human figure. It went transparent, revealing bones and nerves, and zoomed in so that one long, spindly finger could tap at the very base of the skull. “This is the top of your spinal column. We cannot alter the electrocurrents in your brain safely, not without causing a cascade of possible effects that would be undesirable at best. So instead we developed a way to simply downregulate your nervous system, to dull or even alleviate the pain.” 

    “All pain?” Sol asked, frowning.

    “No, you would still feel acute pain. That is important for any soldier, to know they are wounded. However the chronic pain you feel would be reduced considerably.” 

    For a moment, Sol was silent. She looked at the holo, strangely uncertain. Some part of her knew she should jump at the chance to have such a thing, to finally, finally get relief. But another part of her feared that strange new world— not for any reason she could summon. Just a nebulous feeling that a world without her pain would be difficult to adjust to, or that she would become changed somehow because of it.

    “How long would I be in recovery?” she asked finally.

    “It is an outpatient procedure. You would be fit to return to training after your appointment.” 

    Just that quick, everything she knew would shift. Sol chewed the inside of her lip, glancing around at the white room full of white equipment, at the door, at the holo, outside the transparisteel window to the barren hallway where Swift was waiting. 

    “Are you interested in this procedure?” Se asked, after granting her a moment to ponder. Sol took a deep breath.

    “I… think so. Are there any side effects?”

    “None that we have been able to foresee. We did investigate that possibility as thoroughly as our knowledge allowed, so we are optimistic about the unlikeliness.”

    “Can it be removed if there are any unexpected ones?”

    “Of course.”

    “When would I get it?” 

    “It could be done as soon as tomorrow.” 

    Sol took one last lingering look at the holo, the image of the spine and the blinking red light that showed where such a minute wonder would live inside her for the rest of her life, if she chose. If it worked.

    “Alright. I’ll do it.” 

    “Excellent,” Se replied, with something vaguely akin to happiness in her voice. “You may retire then, and report back here for the procedure at 0600.”

    Something felt hollow in Sol’s guts, a strange empty apprehension that was paralyzed with hope and fear at once. But she nodded at the tall alien. “Vor’e— I mean, thank you, ma’am.” 

    “You are most welcome,” Se replied, gesturing with one long, thin hand to the door. “Sleep well, Cadet Tannor.” 

    When she walked back out into the hall, Swift was waiting with a very expectant look. But he said nothing at first, only examined her face as she fell in beside him to go back the way they’d come.

    “Soooo,” he said finally in a quiet voice, “you okay?” 

    “I’m fine,” Sol replied, but her tone was opaque. 

    “You wanna talk about it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

    “Give me just a minute, please.” Her eyes were far away.

    “Alright,” he acquiesced, knowing the difference between a bristly, annoyed Sol and a troubled Sol even though he’d almost never seen the latter. She’d become much more expressive in the last few months, but this was a first. He led her through the halls in quiet solidarity, not once pressing the issue. It wasn’t until they were settling into their open bunks, feeling like the only two people awake in the entire building, that she finally spoke. 

    “They found a way to take the pain away,” she almost whispered, eyes on her hands but looking past them. 

    “Really? How?” he asked, eyes widening.

    “A chip in my spine.” She sank down into her bed, staring up at nothing from on her back.

    “Shouldn’t that be exciting?” 

    “Yeah. It should.” 

    “Well,” he started, “surgery is a little scary sometimes, even when it’s a good thing.”

    “It’s not the surgery I’m afraid of. It’s what comes after.” 

    “You’re afraid of not hurting all the time?” Now he was openly quizzical.

    “It’s just been this way my whole life, Swift. I… can’t imagine anything else.” At last her eyes flitted over to his, the weight in them stirred with possibility and apprehension. 

    “Believe me when I say it’s better, then, huh?” he assured her gently. “I’m happy for you.” 

    “Vor’e,” she murmured. “I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.” 

    “Tomorrow?” 

    “It’s a quick thing. I’ll be done in time for morning mat training.” 

    “Oh.” He blinked, impressed, then looked back at her. “Sounds good.” But her eyes were still troubled. “Hey, it’ll be okay,” he added after a moment. “Get some sleep. You’ll see what I mean.” 

    “Yeah. G’night, Swift,” the young woman said, tugging the blanket up close to her chin and reaching for her bunk’s control panel.

    “G’night, Sol.”