#Command Batch 02 (read: Family)

[vaultedoverthehorse]

Kote, who was always ready to drop everything and help another. Wolffe, whose loud mouth and fiery temper got him in more trouble than he’d like to admit. Bly, who only uses force when he deems it necessary. Ponds, who feels mediocre at everything and best at nothing. Fox, who knows about more than he should, yet is forced to stay silent. The batch that nobody thought would make it, yet succeeded in ways the long necks could never imagine.

[starlight-time-machine]

Week in Review

02/02/2025 – 02/08/2025

Sunday

Week 52 of missing Cipher Academy… After a full year, I will finally retire this bit. The sadness has dulled, and after rereading CA a few times I can say that I still really love it for what it is even if it feels slightly truncated. I went to Japan and bought all seven volumes of the physical manga, found a bunch of its merch in secondhand shops, and even attended a CA specific doujin event and got to meet and chat with other CA fans and buy their fan creations…I can safely say that I have a real sense of closure about the whole thing now. I love you, Cipher Academy…thank you for bringing me so much joy.

I think I’m also going to retire the Manga Sunday bit, not that that has been properly happening for a while now LOL I used to read all the latest Jump chapters I keep up with on Sunday mornings (hence Manga Sundays), but now that Undead Unluck is over I don’t really have any series that I feel the need to read every week…in general I think I enjoy manga much more in big chunks rather than weekly doses. Moreover, I’m really not inclined to check out new Jump series while they’re still ongoing because I never want to deal with the axe of Damocles ever again – it just makes enjoying art such a miserable experience. I really want to strive to only read series once they’re complete from here on out. So goodbye, Manga Sunday, you were fun while it lasted and while I still had joy and optimism in my naïve heart.

Monday

More Malcolm with the bestie! The high school play episode makes me sad/cringe; I don’t really like the plotlines that are just Malcolm making a fool of himself, but that’s pretty much the premise of the whole show, so. The other episodes were pretty good, just solidly fun sitcom stuff. The addition of Cynthia is an interesting wrinkle to the show – first off, I think it’s fun that Malcolm has resigned himself to his fate and is genuinely friends with the other Krelboynes now. Second, it’s a little sad that Cynthia’s role is nothing more than the outcast nerd girl amongst these nerd boys…yeah, she’s a little annoying and cringe, but if she had been allowed to join the friend group long term I feel like there could’ve been some fun dynamics there. But oh well.

Tuesday

Another batch of Malcolm episodes today: the new neighbours one is fun because I always love seeing the family band together against a common enemy. And of course Hal manages to find himself in a homoerotic Romeo and Juliet situation, which just adds to the episode immensely. Francis’ side plot was also nice – it was so sweet to see him be nice to the Commandant in his time of need. The next two episodes were also pretty fun, especially with us getting to see Lois’ parents for the first time and getting a glimpse of how far back the family toxicity goes lol. This is just like Succession (says guy who’s obsessed with Sucession).

Wednesday

Malcolm again: the ACAB episode was vindicating at the end, the hospital episode was whatever, and I love the Reese cooking episode because I think it’s nice that he finally has a non-destructive creative outlet, and that they remember this trait for future episodes. I didn’t remember it being established this early, but I was happy to see it.

Thursday

Malcolm once more: the tutoring Reese episode is such a classic…I love the hijinks the boys get up to in pulling off this con, the way that Lois defends Malcolm and Reese at the end, and the way that the Francis plotline perfectly intersects with the main plotline to bring it to a close… Perfect episode.

The bowling one is also insanely good and so creatively done…they’ve really hit their stride with this season. We watched a few more episodes but I don’t have anything to say about them except that they’re good.

Friday

Malcolm forever: I love the carnival episode too…love the slightly scary vibes of these kids out at night having to fend for themselves…love seeing Lois and Hal interact more with Kitty and Abe…love that even Francis got to be relevant…and finally, I love that ending misdirect with the carnival workers just reasoning with the security guard and inviting him to hangout…it’s a very wholesome ending.

Evacuation was great for how the various plotlines perfectly came together at the end (this is something that Malcolm really excels at), Flashback was great as a glimpse into how this family was made and its genuinely romantic ending, Houseboat was fun if a bit cringe at times, and Emancipation was amazing. Both of the plotlines in Emancipation were heavy-hitting and status quo breaking and superbly fun to watch: it’s fun to see Francis butt heads with his parents in such a major way after being stuck at military school for two seasons, and we even managed to get some real family moments out of it before the final punchline. And then I love seeing Mr. Herkabe finally enter the show because he’s such an asshole that his dynamic with Malcolm and the rest of the Krelboynes is really really fun (and certainly a step up from the previous teacher – I mean, I like her, but she was too uncynical for this world and it was sad/cringe to see her naivety trampled on so many times). This first episode with him in it was the perfect showcase of the fun battles of wits that we can expect to see between Herkabe and Malcolm from here on out.

The Drag Race episode was lowkey insane… I actually quite like Onya, but not owning up to the spray paint thing when Lexi asked was mind-boggling and the worst thing she could’ve done in that moment… I guess I’m just glad that they made up and that Lexi’s look managed to pull through – it was simple, yeah, but I loved the way she styled it and the size itself was a nice impactful statement. I didn’t think much of any of the other looks though, including the one that won lol.

Saturday

Whoops!

[itsagrimm]

imperial Tech 6

also known as "there is no underwear in space"

CN talk of possible suicide, misgendering, murder, making something look like suicide, talk of mental health issues, soldier life in a fascist state, talk of death, smut but includes markers for sex repulsed readers to skip the passages, kissing, fingering, choking, tech is kind of kinky, reader gets lifted up

reader is described as able-bodied + with vagina & breasts

imperial Tech X they/them reader

Rampart was staring out of the window, his eyes unfocused on the sparse mountainous horizon of Ryloth.

“It appears I have underestimated your former squats’ abilities. How unfortunate.” The Admiral spoke.

Commander Tech, standing in perfect parade, kept silent by his free will for once. He had told Rampart several times about his former squad. He had warned the admiral in reports and briefings about the dangerously chaotic yet effective way the bad batch worked. He had seen on Bracca how his superior clearly miscalculated an imminent threat and paid the price for it.

Tech was fed up with Rampart.

But all he could do was to stand still and listen to Ramparts self-centred mumblings.

Tech rolled his eyes so hard he felt his glasses shift a little under his helmet.

There was a part of him, an inner voice that whispered him that Rampart was an admiral and he, Tech, just a good soldier that had to follow orders.

Even if they were stupid.

“The…” Rampart paused, searching for words. “…Bad Batch is truly remarkable. It would be beneficial for the Empire if they would join us. Would you agree?”

Tech considered the question.

As far as he was concerned the Empire in itself was of little importance to the question. It was the current rising power. For Tech a High Command was a High Command. And he had been made and moulded to rely on that.

But his brothers… They had thought differently. He longed for their presence, longed for the comfort of the family that understood him and accepted him for who he was. Tech wanted nothing more than to have them close again. His Brothers …and Y/N.

His mind shuttered. Y/N. His already surprisingly emotional thought pattern became completely derailed.

Y/N was not safe within the elite squad, too many curious eyes and active bugs listening in. Maybe, just maybe, his brothers could help this time instead of leaving him behind. He felt warm, thinking about serving with his brothers again, Y/N at his side – safe and secure. If they all were together, it would be fine.

Tech made a choice.

“Sir, requesting permission to hunt down clone force 99.”

XXXXXXXX

The small bunk room was packed with the elite squad members, pieces of disassembled weapons and discarded armour.

“That was fun. Have you seen their stupid clone faces? Empty little heads, only good to hold a blaster!” ES-03 laughed, still enjoying the memories of this morning’s mission and the capture of the traitorous clone troopers.

“Kriffin bucketheads”, ES-04 mumbled in agreement, a serious human woman with black hair.

ES-02 just nodded and kept cleaning his blaster.

ONCE looked at their hands. They were still shaking. The past hours were catching up on them, the adrenalin and tranquilisers not working anymore.

To hide the trembling fingers ONCE crossed their arms and starred at the holopad in their lab, unable to read anything but trying hard to pretend like it to buy time for their spiralling mind.

The kid and the Syndullas likely made it. But it wasn’t thanks to Y/N.

The senator was dead. That was definitely thanks to Y/N. Howzer was likely dead too if he hadn’t managed to use the blade, they secretly gave him to escape or…

Y/N stopped themselves from thinking too much about the other option of deadly self-mutilation for the kind man they had met just hours ago.

Nausea hit them.

“Hey, ONCE, you fine?” ES-04 looked at them with a curious expression. “You look white like a new armour plate.”

“I am just… Not fully recovered yet. Had to take some medicine and it kriffed me up.”

“More like our commander kriffed you up good and the morning after pill is kicking in.” ES-04 commented drily. “Never imagined commander googles to be so romantic. Fucking with a view up there on the canyon, a bit of good old killing and then carrying your bridal style to the next kriffing LAAT. When is the wedding?”

ONCE rolled their eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

ES-04 chuckled darkly.

“I am just teasing. It was a good kriffing kill shot at the senator.”

ONCE narrowed their eyes, not sure if ES-04 was actually teasing or not.

“Thanks.” They finally replied.

The squad felt silent again.

Y/N felt alone among them. No one to talk to. No one to have their back. The crammed room was small and stuffy. But they felt like a hurt little animal on display on a wide field, alone and easy pray for predators.

“ONCE.” ES-03 had finished working on the blasters and looked at them now. “Did you lose your knife?”

XXXXXXX

It was always the number 3. Tech noticed a pattern. The elite solider ES-03 was sitting on the other side of his desk and worked diligently to end up like his predecessors.

“Commander. As I already mentioned in my comm message, I wanted to talk about the worrisome performance of my fellow squat mate.”

Tech fixed his glasses and leant back. He considered his options, intuition told him to be cautious.

“Sure trooper, you mentioned it. Would you mind passing me your helmet?”

ES-03 did as he was told. Tech took the bucket and locked it together with his own in a weapons cache, thick enough to prevent any imperial eavesdropping.

“You want this off the record commander?” ES-03 required.

“It would be beneficial to your record not to be known as going behind backs and share personal information.”

“Commander, … Do you really think about it that way?”

Tech smiled innocently. “That depends on the information.”

“Right.”

ES-03 looked at the ceiling, collecting his words and playing around with his hands. An annoying habit.

“It’s about ES-01. I think she’s betrayed the empire.”

Tech twitched.

“They betrayed the empire.” He corrected internally.

“Oh really? Do tell.” He said out loud, a well-rehearsed surprised expression on his face.

ES-03 nodded seriously, sure of his commander’s attention now.

“Captain Howzer has escaped. And looking at the surveilliance data he used a vibro blade, EXONcore type.”

“The elite squat standard equipment.” Tech added. He knew he had to show some interest to give the soldier before him some sense of security and have him talking.

“Yes exactly.” ES-03 looked pleased with himself, unaware of the rope tightening around his throat. Even Wrecker was more careful when talking.

“What is the connection between this blade and your teammate ES-01?”

ES-03 paused smugly. Little soldier felt so smart. Something in Tech was nearly entertained by that.

“It’s her blade! She lost hers. The others have it on them and there are no other knifes like it on base. I checked.”

“I see. Very good. And following the protocol you came straight to me?”

“Yes of course. You are my co. Protocol clearly states to only talk about treason with commandeering officers.”

And the idiot was the only one knowing. Good.

XXXXXXXX

A dark twisted part of Tech was highly amused. Another was worried.

He was nearly holding back a laugh when he gave ES-03 back his helmet. His eyes gleamed with delight when he praised the elite soldier for being so intelligent and upstanding. He chuckled when ES-03 left the office. Again, a number three.

Then Tech became serious again. This soldier was a danger to Y/N. He had to go. Fast and inconspicuous. ES-03 being annoying and rude only added to Tech’s determination.

He looked at his chrono.

It was late, only patrols out now.

ES-03 would need 36 seconds to walk down the corridor before turning right into the next long corridor leading to the bunk room.

34.

35.

36.

37.

Tech opened his door and quietly tailed after his prey.

The corridor was empty. Of course. He knew the patrol routes by hard.

His steps did not make a sound when stepping from one camera blind spot to another.

It was almost too easy.

The second corridor passed the grand room with the balcony, leading outdoors. It had been used by the Syndullas and Rampart to make their grand speech to the Twi’lek population a few days ago.

Tech could see ES-03 walk casually down there and past the door leading to the balcony. He checked his build in measuring program in his glasses and calculated his next steps. His HUD was usually better for this, but Tech had left the helmet back in the office.

Tech stopped breathing and commenced the most delicate part of his task.

He stalked down the long corridor until right behind ES-03.

The so-called elite soldier only noticed when Tech brought himself down on him like a bird of prey on the hunt. With practiced hands Tech hit his opponent right between armour and helmet, breaking his neck and catching the limp body.

No sound had been made. Only one last surprised puff by the third ES-03 Tech had killed.

Tech, the limp corpse in his arms moved into the shadows and waited. According to his chrono the next patrol was to pass any second.

They did.

Tech waited patiently. It’s not like ES-03 could run away from him anymore. Carefully, he moved the body while trying to make as little sound as possible. Unerringly the commander walked backwards until he reached the door to the balcony room. With ES-03 still warm hand he opened the bio scanner operated door.

He checked the room – empty as expected.

Now, he moved forward with ES-03 bucket facing towards the balcony before stopping at the handrail. Tech checked his chrono to time his action, aiming to have most patrol facing away from balcony for his last action.

3.

2.

1.

Go.

Tech moved the body his arms up, dipped it forward and let go. Like the lifeless object it was, the body fell down several floors before coming up on the ground. The impact destroying all evidence of the previously broken neck and smashing the helmet to pieces.

Finally, Tech chuckled darkly before leaving the room quietly. No one was going to harm his Y/N for now. He had made sure of that.

XXXXXXXX

Y/N stared at the ceiling of the bunk room. It was late. All of the squat except number 3 wandering around somewhere were already sleeping. They should too but they were too agitated to find rest, the bunk too uncomfortable and the racing thoughts too loud.

ONCE sat up.

This was pointless.

Instead of feeling sorry for themselves and their miserable life situation in this forsaken Empire ONCE could do something.

It was time to start taking control again and not be a token on a strategist planning board somewhere on Coruscant. They were a capable bounty hunter after all, a survivalist since childhood. This was not going to be their end.

They got up, put on their boots & blacks and left the bunk room for some fresh air.

XXXXXXXX

Ryloth at night was cold. During daytime the planets surface heated up fast, making Ryloth a dusty and dry rock. But at night the planet cooled down quickly, and rapid winds made ONCE hug their body for a bit of warmth. No wonder most Twi’lek lived underground

Maybe staying indoors and checking on commander Tech was a better idea than standing in the unfamiliar and unpleasant weather without their armour.

ONCE started walking.

They checked the hangar bay if Tech was working on the ship again, but he wasn’t there. Carefully they avoided the patrols on the long corridors to the commander’s office. Being outside the bunk without their armour and the build in listening device was against protocol. They would be in trouble when someone caught them without it.

Shit, the commander wouldn’t approve either.

ONCE contemplated returning to the bunk room for the armour. But before they could decide, someone grabbed them from behind, placed their hand over their mouth and carried them into one of the adjacent rooms.

ONCE started struggling against their unknown attacker, muffled angry noises against the hand that kept their mouth shut and their jaw locked. Kriff, they couldn’t even bite.

In the office the attacker let go.

ONCE jumped away, turned, and readied themselves for combat.

It was commander Tech.

“Why? What was that?” ONCE wanted to know.

“Do you really think you are in the position to demand answers from your commander?” Tech replied snappy. “I could ask you the same. What are you doing here in the night without your gear?”

“I was just taking a walk, couldn’t sleep. Where is your helmet? What were you up to?”

He looked at them, calculating and intense but not unpleasant.

His expression softened.

“This is my office.” He spoke. “If you can’t sleep, you are welcome to stay here. My helmet is locked away so you are in no danger to be listened in.”

Once nodded and relaxed. “thank you.”

The commander’s office on was a small room. Yet, it felt nearly empty with only a desk and a chair inside of it. None of the typical work projects or tools laying around.

He motioned them to sit on the chair while leaning against the desk.

They took a seat.

“Let’s talk, Y/N.” Tech said.

Tech had used their name again. It sounded pleasant. But the tone suggested something else.

“You considered insubordination.” It was not an accusing tone, more a neutral statement of a man very much in control.

“I…”

“I know you did. Out there in the court with Howzer.”

Y/N stayed silent and looked down.

“Hey, look at me.” Tech placed two fingers below their chin, forcing them to look up again. “I cannot allow you to endanger yourself like that again. Do you understand?”

He was so close, his tall frame towering dark above them.

“Yes, sir.” They whispered.

“You know what they would have done to you?”

“They would have court martialled me.”

Tech rolled his eyes. “If you were lucky. I am calculating 83.57% chance of you just getting executed and buried somewhere at the back of the base. Is that worth it to you?”

Was he worried about Y/N? Did he care?

He leant back and crossed his arms, looking away. “I need you to stay close to me. You are starting to make serious mistakes. Mistakes that will kill you.”

Y/N bit their lips, considering their next words carefully before speaking.

“What kind of mistakes, commander?”

He looked at them

“ES-03 was on your tail due to the knife you gave Howzer. The captain managed to break free because of it.”

“Good.” No need to pretend anymore so why not indulge in a bit of verbal triumph. “Wait, ES-03 was on my tail?”

Tech swallowed. “Indeed. He was. But not anymore.”

ONCE could nothing but stare at Tech.

“What did you do?” They required flatly.

“I think I have expressed myself sufficiently for you to understand.”

They blinked

None of them spoke.

Tech had killed a team-mate for ONCE. Again.

ONCE did not know what to do, say or even feel about that. It was bad but it was Tech so it also felt kind of good?

“I am sorry Y/N.” Tech finally broke the silence. He looked tired and apologetic. “I shouldn’t have told you. I am not sorry for killing him. But I should not have burdened you with knowledge about that. I do not expect you to react to that in any way.”

ONCE, finally able to formulate a coherent sentence in their mind, spoke. “Why?”

“Because he was a treat to you.”

“No, I mean why did you care?”

Tech looked at them - amusement, shame, nervousness and finally determination crossing his face.

“Because I care about you. I thought it was obvious.”

ONCE closed their eyes. The memories of his hands on their body every time he had moved them out of harms way. His armoured body pressed against them. His soft eyes gazing now over them in patient expectation. His admonitions to be careful and his … radical commitment to keep ONCE safe whatever the cost. How could they not see that? Why did they ever question if he cared about ONCE?

“You kill count for your own subordinates is horrendous but flattering.” They finally admitted and smiled. “Is this your way of being romantic?”

Tech adjusted his glasses.

“I understand you prefer a different kind of … love language?”

“Ordinary romance starts with something like a kiss, holding hands, sharing sweet memories, or making new one’s together before committing homicide for each other.”

“Would you like that?”

ONCE smiled even wider. “Very much so.”

He fixed his eyes on ONCE and looked at them.

“Maker, you are beautiful.” He finally said and stretched out his hand to gently touch their cheek. “I thought so much about you that I am utterly lost in you now. My mind-”

ONCE nestled into his hand, stretching out their own to touch Tech at his waist. He took it and drew them up from the chair to him instead. His lips crashed into theirs.

(-> note for sex repulsed readers. Skip the next part and only read the last paragraph)

“Y/N. You have not the hint of an idea what you do to me.” he whispered before biting their lip. His hands were around their waist and neck, gripping them possessively. ONCE reached up and cupped his face and combed through his hair. They were the only parts of Tech not in armour and ONCE longed to feel him as much as they could.

They moaned.

Tech retreated.

Surprised ONCE looked at him, stared back with regret in his eyes.

“I am sorry. We are too loud. This is dangerous. Someone could hear us.” He explained.

Disappointment washed down ONCE body, cold but not cold enough to quench the lust in their ragingly hot body.

“I can be quieter. I want this.”

Tech considered.

“I don’t really want you to be quiet for me.” He admitted cheekily. “Would you like to try something?”

ONCE nodded.

Tech moved closer again and pulled them into his arms.

They hummed approvingly. For a moment they just stood there, intertwined and content.

Then Tech moved. His hand trailed from their hips up to their waist, their chest, their collarbone and finally their throat. With long strong fingers he tapped where ONCE larynx was.

“Do you feel that?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you mind me touching there?”

“No, I like it.”

Tech’s eyes gleamed.

“Would you like me to press you more when you get too loud?”

ONCE leaned into the commander and whispered. “I trust you to be careful. I would like to be choked by you.”

He shivered.

His fingers tightened slightly around ONCE neck, enough to stifle another moan.

“Tell or tap me if I am too rough.”

“Uh-hu.”

They kissed. Tech was careful at first, unsure yet of how much he could choke them before ONCE gasped for air but figuring it out quickly and becoming more demanding.

His other hand wandered down their back and lifting ONCE on the desk.

“There is something in the way.” He purred while playfully dragging at their blacks.

“I think so too.” They responded with a husky voice, knocking against his armour.

“Change that.” He said it softly but formulated it like an order. Heat blossomed in ONCE lower body listening to his commandeering.

Slowly but practiced hands they started undressing the commander. Piece by piece they peeled off the upper body armour. Even with his blacks still on it was clear that he was muscular, lean, and wiry in frame. Their curious fingertips caressed his lithe body down towards his belt.

“Stop.” He ordered. “May I?”

ONCE nodded and he slowly took of their upper body blacks. His hands were rough and callous from the little scars on them. He traced up and grabbed one of their breasts, drawing little circles with his thumb and playing with their nipple. His other hand wandered up again and grabbed ONCE by their neck.

ONCE hummed approvingly and lifted their legs to pull Tech closer.

“I would love to bite you, dear. I don’t think I can, thought.”

Another stifled moan.

Techs soft eyes became hungry. His hand wandered down ONCE body and pulled at their leggings.

“I don’t think you need them right now.”

Instead of an answer ONCE just lifted their hips, helping the commander to fully undress them.

“My, you are beautiful dear Y/N.”

Somehow now ONCE blushed. Trying to turn their head to look away but Tech’s hand fully blocked any kind of movement.

His hand found its way to ONCE wet core, parting their lips and slowly probing their hot inside.

“More.” ONCE rasped. “I want more of your hand.”

Tech obliged and inserted another finger, slowly but steadily working them up and his thumb on their clitoris steadily working them towards sweet oblivion.

They felt their legs staring to tremble and lust building up. Another quashed moan. Tech leant forward, their foreheads touching now and his body stopping ONCE legs from closing. He inserted a third finger, edging them onward.

He nibbed at their shoulder, suppressing a moan himself and clenching his hand tightly around ONCE throat.

That was enough to push them over the edge, bright light flashing before their eyes and warmth flooded their body.

(-> note for sex repulsed readers. continue reading from here)

ONCE collapsed into Tech’s arms. He slowly cradled them, waiting for ONCE to come down from their high.

“Was that to your liking, dear?” he whispered, conscious about being as quiet as possible.

“Aye.”, ONCE replied and shivered. The sweat on their back started to cool and the office was a colder room anyway.

Tech hugged them tightly and caressed their back.

“You are getting cold. We should get you under the fresher and into some clothing. Hypothermia is a serious ailment.”

“What about you? Don’t you want to… come?”

Tech smiled grimly.

“Unlike you, my moans are not as sweet and soft as yours. But for now, I am content. And I do plan on hearing your muffled cries again if you’ll let me.”

PART 7

XXXXXXX

Would you like to be tagged in the next chapter or my general writings? write me a short message please.

XXXXXXX

@magisticly-wonderful @malewife-hansolo

[theloveandthedead]

A Wonderful Li(f)e

Pairing: Oliver Emese Song/Walter C. Dornez (one sided love)

Summary: 50 theme challenge revolving around Hellsing’s Dolos and Aphrodite

[Note: Like Olivia, Oliver is likened to Aphrodite. That is not changing lol. Olivia/Oliver are the same character except different names and appearances. However, if you want to imagine Olivia here, you can. Characterization remains the same.]

[Note 2: These themes will contain references to chapters in “L’amour et La Mort” so this one shot will not make sense if you aren’t familiar with the fic.]

-----

#01 – Ring

Walter prided himself on his well-honed ability to mask his emotions, an improvement from his youthful spitfire self. Yet, every time the ruby on Oliver’s finger caught the light, Walter felt a familiar scowl chisel across his face.

The triumphant smirk Alucard constantly shot his way didn’t help matters either.

#02 – Hero

At the tender age of eight, Oliver sold his soul to Hellsing to become a hero against creatures of the night.

How ironic that in the span of ten years, Oliver found a family in the darkness itself—even going as far as to marry its king.

#03 – Memory

“Even when we are old and no one remembers us, I will always be at your side, Walter.” Oliver had vowed on top London Bridge, ruffling the younger boy’s hair with a smile. “We are brothers for life. That’s all the matters, right?”

And perhaps that was enough for Oliver, but not for Walter.

Never for Walter.

#04 – Box

Walter leaned against the doorway of the attic, watching Oliver pull Martha’s wedding gown from the chest and bury his face against the lace. If he announced his presence, Oliver would’ve lashed out, so Walter remained stagnant as Oliver’s muffled sobs filled the room.

#05 – Run

In the beginning, Walter was miles ahead of Oliver, laughing as the bleeding hearted older boy struggled to keep up with him as soldier.

Then, with the passing years, Oliver caught up and was able to keep pace with him before suddenly bypassing him entirely.

Now it was Walter chasing after him, struggling to maintain his place as a solider and his place in Oliver’s heart.

#06 – Hurricane

The juxtaposition of Oliver’s angelic face and Adonis physique was a constant source of whiplash for Walter.

Destiny may be cruel to Oliver but puberty sure as hell was not.

#07 – Wings

When enemies and allies heard the name “Angel of Death”, they envisioned Walter’s cunning smirk as he sliced through his foes.

When Oliver heard the name “Angel of Death”, he envisioned six year old Walter with his chubby cheeks and missing front teeth.

#08 – Cold

As the bitter Oxford chill gnawed at his skin, Walter pulled his blue, handmade muffler closer, the faint scent of home lingering on each thread.

“Only you of all people could make such a shoddy gift, Oliver.” He scoffed with a smile.

#09 – Red

The blood glimmered in the moonlight, sticking to their bodies like a second skin.

Oliver stood a few feet away from him, his profile illuminated in the moonlight. The blood stained his face and neck, slowly dripping down his torso and seeping through his white button-up. His wavy, black hair clung to his forehead, his cheeks flushed with extrusion, and his plump lips were damp with saliva.

Walter had never seen a more beautiful sight, and as Alucard emerged and pulled his husband in for a heated kiss, he begrudgingly acknowledged that he and the mutt were of one mind.

#10 – Drink

Arthur’s habits kept them from over indulging, yet Oliver and Walter had fallen into a tradition of drinking together once a week.

They would sit in one of the reading rooms, share a bottle of wine, and chat about everything and anything until the early hours of the morning.

For Oliver, it was a get together with his brother and lifelong friend.

For Walter, it was an opportunity to have Oliver to himself.

#11 – Midnight

“You’ve downed more than half of the bottle already, and it’s barely midnight.” Oliver teased, holding up the translucent bottle to the candle light. “Stressful week?”

“You try to keep this manor running while training incompetent cadets day in and day out!” Walter huffed, downing the rest of his glass. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“You must really be drunk if your tongue is this loose.” Oliver leaned over and brushed Walter’s bangs out of his eyes. “Perhaps we should call it a night. After all, a hungover ‘Angel of Death’ is a fussy ‘Angel of Death’.”

“Piss off.” Walter hissed, latching onto Oliver’s hand and pressing his palm to his neck. “For fuck’s sake, why are your hands so cold?”

#12 – Temptation

“My hands are probably cold because your body is a furnace from all that wine.” Oliver tugged against his grip. “C’mon, let me go and let’s get you to bed.”

“Shut u—p.” Walter huffed, unbuttoning his shirt and placing Oliver’s palm over his clavicle. “Let me cool down first.”

Oliver gave an exasperated shake of his head before slouching back in his seat and allowing his head to fall back against the cushion.

“Who knew Walter C. Dornez was a light weight?” He chuckled while Walter continued using his hand as a cool pack. “You’re lucky I’m too decent to tease you about this when you’re sober.”

Walter didn’t bother responding, maintaining his inebriated illusion as he gave into foolish temptation.

In this candle-lit room with the scent of wine permeating the air, Walter casted aside his cocky façade and willingly fell prey to a songbird’s gentle touch.

Because, within the walls of this reading room, Oliver was his.

#13 – View

As the grandfather clock struck three, Oliver heaved another sigh before gazing upon the slumbering body across from him.

Even in deep sleep, Walter had a death grip on his hand and Oliver wondered if he’d made a mistake in playing along with his antics.

“You will always be my dearest friend and brother,” Oliver finally wiggled his hand away and rested it on top of Walter’s head. “And you deserve better than me.”

Walter’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, staring at their shadows against the beige wallpaper, before allowing them to fall shut again.

#14 – Music

Oliver was a talented singer; Walter would be a fool to deny that. Years of practice had tuned his once pitchy, strangled shrieks into a smooth, molasses-like melody. And Oliver wasn’t afraid to show it, constantly belting out arias day in and out to the jaw dropping awe of their soldiers.

But not Walter.

He would give credit where it was due, but Oliver’s tastes in music were rather dull to his ears.

That was until Oliver suddenly belted out a Chuck Berry number, his operatic tone taking on a raspy, soulful flair that had Walter’s jaw dropping like the rest of them.

#15 – Silk

Calling someone ‘angelic’ was not in Walter’s vocabulary, leaving such words to devotees or overly saccharine poets.

Yet, as a weeping Oliver adorned in Martha’s silk veil stood at the altar of St. Paul’s cathedral, ‘angelic’ was the only word he describe him.

#16 – Cover

“Alright, I’m going in. You got my back, Walter?”

“Do I have to?”

“I mean, you can just let me die I guess.”

“Very tempting, isn’t it?”

“…….I hope your socks rolls down in your shoes.”

#17 – Food

Walter pretended not to notice Oliver sneaking pieces of brownies from the dish behind him.

No, he just removed the fresh batch from the oven, sprinkled a generous amount of salt on the top, placed it on the counter, and waited.

#18 – Dream

In Walter’s dreams, he was a true Angel of Death—imperious, unbeatable, and feared by all.

In Oliver’s dreams, he had his family back and was able to grow up normally.

#19 – Candle

Oliver raced back up the aisle, leaving Walter on the ground with lips tingling and a flame igniting in his core.

#20 – Talent

“Chugging six bottles of Fanta at once is not a talent, Oliver, it’s an atrocity.”

#21 – Silence

During those four years at Oxford, Walter loathed to admit he missed Oliver’s show tunes and occasional rock numbers.

#22 – Journey

Walter knew the moment he took The Major’s deal, his path and Oliver’s had split in different directions. Yet, sometimes after a bottle of wine, he hoped their paths would intersect again.

#23 – Fire

Millennium’s Warsaw base burned around them like a sea of fire, and Oliver stood above it all with his mangled arm outstretched as he unwillingly commanded the No Life King to slaughter all their enemies.

For the first of many times, Walter felt a twinge of awe and fear.

#24 – Strength

It took everything for Walter’s knees not to buckle when Oliver picked him up by the waist and moved him aside.

“Sorry,” Oliver bit into his apple, the juices dripping down his chin. “You were standing in front of the fruit bowl.”

#25 – Mask

Although Walter was brash and had a sharp tongue, Oliver knew his friend had a heart deep down.

#26 – Ice

Walter knew the moment his treason was brought to light, Oliver’s eyes—warm and green like the spring—would become frosted and bitter as a blizzard.

#27 – Fall

In their youth, Oliver and Walter used to hide in the leave piles and scare Arthur during his morning walks.

#28 – Forgotten

The root of his treason, and the eventual cause of Oliver’s heartbreak—all of this stemmed from Walter’s one and only fear.

#29 – Dance

As Oliver twirled him around the palace ballroom, Walter understood why children were obsessed with fairytales.

#30 – Body

Walter considered it horribly unfair that, upon his return from Oxford, Oliver was a head taller than him and twice his muscle mass.

#31 – Sacred

Alucard may have Oliver, but Walter was his first kiss and he would carry that victory to his grave.

#32 – Farewells

Upon their return from Warsaw, Walter held Oliver as they stood in the foyer.

To Oliver, it was a gesture of brotherhood and comfort.

To Walter, it was a farewell to the future they could’ve had together.

#33 – World

In their younger years, the two of them marked an old map in the library with where they wanted to travel together, with crayon lines zig-zagging everywhere from Montreal to Antarctica.

#34 – Formal

“For the love of all that is holy, Oliver, button your shirt up! We are attending Her Majesty’s banquet, not a cocktail party in Vegas!”

#35 – Fever

Walter had a fever once when he was 10, and Oliver had made some homemade chicken noodle soup for him.

Never again.

His taste buds can only handle so much salt.

#36 – Laugh

The way he hunched over with a crinkled nose and a toothy grin, Walter could see why Oliver’s nickname was Rabbit.

#37 – Lies

“You can trust me, Oliver.”

#38 – Forever

Despite his sins, Walter hoped to meet Oliver again in the next life.

#39 – Overwhelmed

When Oliver leaned over his shoulder, his chest pressed to his back, and whispered in his ear, Walter swore his heart beat could be heard from space.

#40 – Whisper

“Move your ass, Walter, you’re blocking the bathroom door.”

#41 – Wait

4 years.

1,460 days.

2,102,400 minutes.

And, in the end, Oliver still chose Alucard.

#42 – Talk

It took Walter by surprise when Oliver said he didn’t believe people are inherently good.

“It is easy to be cruel and selfish, but to be kind and loving—that takes effort.” Oliver elaborated, swirling his wine glass with a far-off expression. “And it’s hard to make that effort sometimes, especially when the world is hellbent on breaking you down.”

#43 – Search

Walter never thought he would miss the days when Oliver would reach for his hand during mission briefings.

#44 – Hope

The words Oliver stitched into his muffler.

#45 – Eclipse

Oliver stands above him, rays of moonlight filtering through his raven locks, and offers him a hand and a smile.

“Another successful mission by the dynamic duo, hmm?”

#46 – Gravity

It seemed the more Walter tried to pull away from Oliver, the harder he fell for him.

#47 – Highway

The officer was tempted to turn on his sirens as a black Cadillac Sixty-Two Convertible and a Silver Triumph motorcycle zipped by him, but upon recalling the drivers’ identities, he just closed his eyes and prayed none of his colleagues would be foolish enough to pursue them.

#48 – Unknown

The future was a mystery but, as long as he had his ‘family’, Oliver wasn’t afraid.

Too bad Walter didn’t share the same sentiment.

#49 – Lock

The memories Oliver had given him would be guarded in his heart forevermore, even as his wires sliced through Oliver’s skin.

#50 – Breathe

As his final breath passed through his lips, Walter clutched the rabbit keychain in his hand and bid farewell to his first and only love.

[govtjobslib-blog]

Indian Coast Guard Jobs - Apply for Asst Commandant 02/2020 Batch

A new employment notification is issued by the Indian Coast Guard for the recruitment of Asst Commandant (General Duty) - 02/2020 Batch for Men Under Special Recruitment Drive Jobs for SC/ ST. Interested candidates who are eligible for these Indian Coast Guard Jobs can read the notification & Apply Online.

Indian Coast Guard

Asst Commandant (SRD) 02/2020 Batch Jobs

Post Name: Indian Coast Guard Asst Commandant 02/2020 Batch Jobs 2020 Date of Post: 17-01-2020 Total Posts: 25

Important Dates

These are some important dates to keep in mind if you are interested in these Indian Coast Guard Jobs. Start Date to Apply Online: 09-02-2020 End Date to Apply Online: 15-02-2020 Admit Card Availability Date: 25-02-2020

Age Limit

Here are the age limit details for the interested candidates Min Age Limit: Born Before than 30-06-1999. Max Age Limit: Born After 01-07-1990.

Qualification

The applicants should have a Bachelor’s degree from a recognized university with a minimum of 55% marks in aggregate (ie.1st Semester to 8th Semester for BE/B.Tech or 1st year to last year for Bachelor's Degree Candidates wherever applicable). Minimum 55% marks Mathematics and Physics as subjects class XII of 10+2+3 scheme of education [Candidates not in possession of Physics & Maths in 10 + 2 (Intermediate) level are not eligible for General Duty(GD)

Physical Eligibility

Height: Minimum 157 Cm Chest: Minimum 5 Cm Expansion Weight: Proportionate to the Height and Age, + 10 % acceptable Eye-Sight: 6/6 6/9 – Uncorrected without Glass, 6/6 6/6 – Corrected with Glass.

How to Apply

Interesting candidates can Apply Online Here: Available on 09-02-2020. Download the Official Notification Here. To visit the Official Website of Indian Coast Guard Click Here. For more jobs like this. Check Our Website Here. If you like this information, please share this job link with your friends and family So that they can also apply for this job. Please leave your valuable feedback in the comment section below. It will also help us keep providing this kind of information to you and more job seekers like you. Also, don't forget to subscribe to our newsletter and notifications to keep you updated about the latest government jobs. Government Jobs Library Disclaimer: Interested Candidates, please read official notification and instructions carefully before applying. Pay fees only on their official website. Apply for the job only when you are completely eligible for the above-mentioned job according to official notification. Otherwise, you may be disqualified. Read the full article

[walecpost]

A military officer  shot 26 people dead in Thailand in less than sixteen hours and 57 people recorded wounded. This is the  Thailand’s worst shooting spree before he was fatally shot inside a mall in the country’s northeast on Sunday, officials said. Authorities said Sgt. Maj. Jakrapanth Thomma was behind the attack in Nakhon Ratchasima, a hub for Thailand’s relatively poorer and rural northeastern region. Much of the shooting took place at Terminal 21 Korat, an airport-themed mall filled with colorful Lego sculptures, a merry-go-round and huge replicas of landmarks from around the world. “This incident was unprecedented in Thailand,” Prime Minister Prayuth Chan-ocha told reporters as he gave the final tally Sunday morning after visiting the wounded in hospitals.

“I hope this is the only one and the last incident, and that it never happens again. No one wants this to happen. It could be because of this person’s mental health in this particular moment,” he said.Prayuth said he was worried that people inside the mall could be accidentally hit by bullets fired by police, but added, “I have checked, that didn’t happen.”

Video taken outside the mall showed people diving for cover as shots rang out mid-afternoon Saturday. Many were killed outside the mall, some in cars, others while walking.

Nattaya Nganiem and her family had just finished eating and were driving away when she heard gunfire.

“First I saw a woman run out from the mall hysterically,” said Nattaya, who shot video of the scene on her phone. “Then a motorcycle rider in front of her just ran and left his motorcycle there.”

Hundreds of people were evacuated from the mall in small batches by police while they searched for the gunman.“We were scared and ran to hide in toilets,” said Sumana Jeerawattanasuk, one of those rescued by police. She said seven or eight people hid in the same room as her.

“I am so glad. I was so scared of getting hurt,” she said.

Shortly before midnight, police announced they had secured the above-ground portion of the mall, but were still searching for the shooter. About 16 hours later, officials held a news conference outside the mall to announce the gunman was fatally shot.

Defense Ministry spokesman Kongcheep told Thai media that the first person killed was the commanding officer of the 22nd Ammunition Battalion, in which the suspect also served. He said the gunman had fired at others at his base and took guns and ammunition before fleeing in an army Humvee.

City and neighborhood police officers, who asked not to be identified because they were not authorized to release information, said the man fired shots as he drove to the mall. Thai Rath television aired mall security camera footage showing a man with what appeared to be an assault rifle. The man also posted updates to his Facebook page during the rampage.

“No one can escape death,” read one post. Another asked, “Should I give up?” In a later post, he wrote, “I have stopped already.”

A photo circulated on social media that appeared to be taken from the Facebook page shows a man wearing a green camouflaged military helmet while a fireball and black smoke rage behind him. Jakrapanth’s profile picture shows him in a mask and dressed in military-style fatigues and armed with a pistol. The background image is of a handgun and bullets. The Facebook page was made inaccessible after the shooting began. Terminal 21 Korat, a multi-level glass and steel mall, is designed to resemble an airport terminal, complete with a mock control tower and departure gates. A large model passenger jet dangles from wires beside one of the main escalators.

Each of its seven retail floors is decorated to represent a different country. A giant replica of Paris’ Eiffel Tower soars to the ceiling, while a model of London’s Big Ben dominates another area, and a massive model of California’s Golden Gate Bridge spans an open courtyard. A two-story golden Oscar statue towers over a food court.

Many malls in Thailand, including Terminal 21’s namesake in Bangkok, have metal detectors and security cameras at entrances manned by uniformed but unarmed security guards. Checks on those entering are often cursory at best.

In Bangkok, the original Terminal 21 in the bustling heart of the city was filled with shoppers as usual Sunday morning. There were no signs of increased security or commemoration of the tragedy that unfolded a few hours’ drive away.

Gun violence is not unheard of in Thailand. Firearms can be obtained legally, and many Thais own guns. Mass shootings are rare, though there are occasional gun battles in the far south of the country, where authorities have for years battled a long-running separatist insurgency.

The incident in Korat comes just a month after another high-profile mall shooting, in the central Thai city of Lopburi. In that case, a masked gunman carrying a handgun with a silencer killed three people, including a 2-year-old boy, and wounded four others as he robbed a jewelry store. A suspect, a school director, was arrested less than two weeks later and reportedly confessed, saying he did not mean to shoot anyone.

[vaultedoverthehorse]

Bly didn't like fighting. He only fought when necessary - and he didn't see punching his brothers on Kamino as necessary. Perhaps that was why he came back from training the bloodiest. Alpha-17 wouldn't have commented on it, except for the fact that he'd seen the pairings today. Bly had been partnered with Fox - and though Fox was the best fighter, he wouldn't have done that. The bloody nose, split lip, black eye - no, Fox was too smart for that. On Wolffe, maybe. But that's because Wolffe wouldn't back down. On Bly, however? On Bly, Fox would push him around for long enough that the longnecks weren't suspicious - and then Bly would tap out, both vod walking away unscathed. So, to Alpha-17, it all just seemed suspicious.

Despite it being suspicious, Seventeen wasn’t about to baby the cadets. They were soldiers - in four short years, they would be commanders. They would be in charge of entire legions of troopers. They needed to learn how to deal with adversity. Besides, the longnecks already disliked the batch - they’d be looking for any reason to decommission them. They were loud, independent, and didn’t listen well enough. No matter how many suicides Seventeen ran them through. But they were good, too good to be decommed. Sometimes Seventeen wondered if there was a mutation in their batch that made them this way. Kote was smarter and more creative, Fox more observant and cunning, Wolffe more brash and aggressive, Ponds more sensitive and adaptive. And Bly was more emotionally intelligent, more reasonable. If it didn’t put a target on their backs, Seventeen would be proud.

Currently, he was in the Commando’s barracks, cleaning his armor over and over. The others were off somewhere, leaving a tense silence that clung to everything like dust. He should’ve expected something would go wrong - it always does. As he reached for his chest plate, the door to the barracks slid open. Before he could even look up, he heard little footsteps running up to his bed. He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Cadet, you can’t-“ Seventeen started to chastise, but was cut off by the boys high-pitched ramble. Ponds was always the closest with Bly, so Seventeen hadn’t been surprised earlier when he seemed the most worried. But by now he should’ve moved on - bad things happened in war. That’s what this training was - the Nulls were preparing the cadets to survive. Seventeen was preparing his batch to survive. They couldn’t be soft.

“Bly - he’s - he’s really hurt.” Ponds seemed to be genuinely scared for his brother. Seventeen sighed, pushing his armor off to the side. “Cadet, he’s got a black eye and a split lip...I can’t just-“

Again, Ponds cut him off. He’ll be running laps around the facility for hours because of that. “Please, he got stabbed or - or something-“

Seventeen’s brow furrowed, his body tensing as if ready to fight. “….he what?” It had supposed to have been a melee session. And even if it hadn’t been, they never used weapons that would result in a stabbing. Getting stunned or shot, sure. But stabbed?

Ponds nodded, his eyes wide with fear. “B-Bric took over for Fox and Bly still wouldn’t fight and then-“

Seventeen had already stood up, and started walking to the door. The moment Ponds told him it was Bric, any surprise had left him. Bric didn’t think the clones were human - to him, they were just pets who needed to be trained, and aggression was his favorite tool. He was known to be cruel in training. Pulling a blade wasn’t the worst thing he’d done. But to one of Seventeen’s batch? He wanted to pull Bric’s stupid head off and throw him into the sea below.

“Let’s move, cadet.” He said tensely, motioning for Ponds to follow. Relief crossed Ponds’ face, and that hurt even more - did he think Seventeen wouldn’t care? There was no time to dwell on it now. Not if he had a kid bleeding in the cadets barracks.

The door to the cadets barracks slid open, and instantly the sounds of bickering could be heard from his batch’s bunks.

“It’s not supposed to look like that-“

“Guys-“

“-turn it around-“

“-it’s not a big deal-“

“-I got it-“

“-Wolffe get away-“

“-guys!”

Seventeen rounded the corner, and the scene before him was worse than he’d thought. Somehow the batch had gotten their hands on a medpac, and they were currently trying to place a bacta patch on Bly’s stomach - which was bleeding profusely. Kote was kneeling before him, a look of concentration on his face that would be funny in any other situation. Fox was over his shoulder, correcting him on every move he made, even though Fox didn’t know anything about medical care either. Wolffe was to Fox’s left, looking ever so slightly worried as he watched his brother’s work. All of them were too focused to notice Seventeen as he neared.

Cleaning his throat, Seventeen gave the batch his best glare. “What’s going on here?”

Wolffe jumped, then instantly looked angry at the fact that he had been scared. He gave Ponds a betrayed look, then looked at Seventeen. “Sir, we-“

Seventeen shook his head to silence him, then focused on Kote. “Move.” He said harshly, and the boy dropped the bacta patch and scurried to the side. Bly looked terrified, not saying a word as Seventeen kneeled before him. “This isn’t how you put a bacta patch on. You should clean the wound first if possible.” He took a pack from the medpac, ripping it open with his teeth.

Fox cleared his throat, watching Seventeen curiously. “Sir, we-“

“Not now.” Seventeen spoke tersely. He pulled the disinfectant pad out, and started to wipe down the wound. He ignored the hiss of pain Bly let out, instead speaking to the other four cadets. “Go to mess. You’re late enough as it is.” There was some scuffling and angry whispering behind him, before they finally shuffled out. The tension in the barracks was thick. Seventeen could feel Bly shaking slightly as he cleaned the wound.

Seventeen dropped the disinfectant pad to the side, looking up to meet Bly’s eyes. “Want to tell me how this happened?”

Bly looked away, taking a deep breath. “Yes, sir.” He was always the best with decorum, and for once Seventeen hated it - Bly should be angry, all his brothers would be. But instead he seemed defeated. “I - I wouldn’t fight at training today.”

Seventeen nodded, activating a bacta patch. “And?”

“A-and Bric caught on…he said I needed to be ‘motivated,’ sir.”

Seventeen felt his jaw clench, his hands shaking as he applied the bacta patch onto Bly’s wound. It wasn’t as deep as it looked, but he still wasn’t happy about it. “…it’s not your fault, cadet.”

Bly’s lip quivered, and he watched Seventeen carefully. “…am I going to be decommed.”

Seventeen jumped, dread spreading through his veins. “What?”

“Bric said that I was-“ Bly’s voice broke, tears filling his eyes. “-defective.”

Seventeen shook his head, pulling the boy in for a hug. He wasn’t ever physically comforting with his batch, but he cared for them. And seeing one of them cry because of the Nulls made him feel angry and guilty. “Bly, you aren’t defective.” He heard the boy sniffle, felt his blacks growing wet. Bly pulled away, looking up at him with tear-streaked cheeks.

“B-but why-“

“Bric’s a kriffing arse.” Seventeen spat out. “You aren’t defective, you’re fine. You’re just unique, and that’s a good thing vod’ika.”

Bly nodded. He didn’t seem comforted, but it was all Seventeen could give him. At least the tears were slowing. Seventeen stood up, leaving the contents of the medpac spread around their room. “Come on, cadet. Let’s get you to the mess.”

Bly nodded, wiping his cheeks as he stood. The two walked in silence, Bly a step behind as if they were marching to battle. Seventeen kept his head up high, trying to ignore the feelings of guilt gnawing at him. The hallways were dead, apart from a few soldiers walking back from mess. When they arrived at the said room, Seventeen stood by the door. Bly looked up at him, as if waiting for permission. Seventeen nodded at the boy, and watched him walk to Command Batch 02’s usual table. He slid into his usual seat next to Ponds, who slid him an untouched tray. Seventeen watched from a distance as Bly’s eyes started to light up, watched the laughter as Wolffe and Fox bickered over something stupid. And Seventeen wondered: what was the point to it all? When they graduated they’d be split up to all corners of the galaxy. He was raising them like lambs to a slaughter, waiting for their deaths.

Even if there was nothing he could do, at least they had each other for now. Seventeen stood up straight, then turned on his heel and left the mess. He couldn’t stand to watch them anymore.

[vaultedoverthehorse]

pt 2 to Command Batch 02 (read: Family) but can be stand alone I think??

tag list: @tazmbc1

***

Kote wasn’t worried about decommissioning. To him, it was a bedtime story told to tubelings in order to keep them in line. But by now he was four standard years old - he was high in the rankings during training, he fit perfect in his batch.

On the other hand, he also never expected for Jango Fett to come find him. Kote worshiped the ground Jango walked on - he’d named him, Mando’a for glory. It meant more than Kote would admit to his vod. Jango didn’t like the clones. But to Kote, it felt like he was special. He felt more like Boba, the one ‘genetically perfect’ clone - or that’s how Jango explained it to him. Fox had been suspicious of Jango, but Kote just chalked it up to jealousy.

Regardless, when Jango had collected Kote - just Kote - from training, he’d felt a warm sensation of pride. He ignored the tightening of Seventeen’s jaw, the hardening of Fox’s eyes, and followed in lockstep behind the Mandolorian. He didn’t ask any questions (that would just make Jango mad), holding his head up high as they walked. He passed other batches of cadets, sensing their eyes on him. Because he was with Prime, their genetic father, who seemingly disliked them all. And he was taking him-

-to medbay?

Kote sent a confused look to Jango, who gestured somewhat aggressively for him to enter. Three longnecks - Kote could never tell them apart - stood by one of the beds. Kote sat down, bring his knees to his chest. He felt like a zoo animal, trapped and watched by strangers. He had a bad feeling, his heart racing faster than after a twenty mile run.

“… too independent…”

“… too smart to decommission …”

“…reprogramming?..”

Kote caught snatches of the conversation, each word bringing him more and more dread. In his panic, he barely noticed the meddroids prepping for surgery - he’d seen it one of the times he’d snuck into medbay with Bly out of curiosity - and barely noticed the syringe poking into his arm right above his elbow. The world started spinning, his body feeling heavy.

Fox said he didn’t trust Jango. Maybe he was right. Actually, he was always right. Kote’s last thought before it all went black was that he should’ve listened to Fox.

***

“We need to see Kote.”

The words kept ringing through Seventeen’s head as he paced the commando barracks. Jango had come into training and taken Kote - and Seventeen was sure he knew where.

Kote was too independent for his own good. He could choose which orders to follow, learn things he shouldn’t - even with his batches unusual tendencies, Kote was a standout. And for Jango to be showing interest in him…

A small form snored from Seventeens bunk. Fox had come into training after training, tears streaming and nose running. He knew something was wrong - he was too smart for his own good, observant or even the smallest details. For Fox to be crying was a bad sign, but if none of the others had come running in, it was clear they weren’t completely sure what was going on. Seventeen was relieved of that. He didn’t want to have the conversation again.

Reprogramming was not a fun progress. It left cadets confused, numb, and stunted for a few weeks. And even once the major effects wore off, they weren’t the same. They were too robotic, the worst parts of the clones programming amplified. And Kote - the heart of the group, the one all of them could go to - Kote would rather die than have that happen.

Seventeen was angry. Damn it, it wasn’t fair. Kote was a good soldier - just because he didn’t listen perfectly didn’t mean he wasn’t a good clone. But the longnecks and the Nulls only cared about obedience. They weren’t bothered by the idea of taking away a clones personality, just producing the best soldiers.

And Seventeen couldn’t protect them all from their wrath.

A soft sniffle made Seventeen stop pacing. He froze, staring at the bunk. Fox was seemingly awake, his curly hair sticking up at weird angles. He sat up, staring at Seventeen. He rubbed his swollen eyes, salty streaks still covering his face. “…s’he back yet?” He mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

Seventeen shook his head, sitting next to the boy. He thought for a moment, before letting out a soft exhale. “He won’t be back for a while.”

Fox looked down at the floor, a sad frown on his face. He sniffled again, the gears in his head clearly turning. “…what did he do wrong? He was a good soldier, right?”

Seventeen wasn’t sure what to say. He couldn’t tell the truth, Fox was too young. And besides - if he told him the real reason, Fox would probably rush to get decommed as soon as possible. “…don’t worry about it.”

Fox gave him a look - he saw right through the weak lie - but didn’t push it. Seventeen patted his shoulder softly, his tone softening. “Why don’t you get back to your batch? They’ll need you.”

Fox nodded, sliding out of the bunk. He sent Seventeen one last melancholy glance before turning and leaving the room, leaving Seventeen alone in his thoughts. He flopped back on the bunk, trying to fight the conflicting emotions rising in his gut. Anger, frustration, fear, sadness - why did his cadets have to go through this? Seventeen felt like he failed them. He should’ve been more attentive, more careful-

The door slid open again, and Seventeen lifted his head to see who it was. Fordo, standing in the doorway, gave him a pitiful look. “I heard.”

Seventeen nodded, sitting up again. “Yeah.”

The two Commandos sat in silence. Seventeen wondered what Fordo was thinking. Fordo had one of the other command batches, and his was fine. His was normal. Seventeen wasn’t jealous of his cadets - he liked his just fine. No, he was jealous of their safety.

“It’s a shame.” Fordo sighed, shaking his head sadly. “He had so much potential.”

Anger rose in Seventeen’s chest. “He’s not gone, he’s just reprogrammed.” He snapped. Fordo looked at him, as if he was about to say something and then deciding to just let Seventeen be naive. He walked over to his own bunk, starting to slowly take off his armor. “…I suppose.”

Seventeen huffed. He could practically feel the judgment coming from Fordo, and he had a cadet to find. He stood up, ignoring Fordo’s questions, and left the barracks.

***

It took hours of begging and yelling and punching for someone to finally tell him what Kote’s status was. One of Nala Se’s assistance tells him (in a sickly sweet tone) that Kote is stable and will be released shortly, Seventeen could go back to his barracks.

As if.

Seventeen stood in the foyer of the medbay, ignoring the judgmental looks given to him by the longnecks. He doesn’t see any sign of Jango, which makes him more angry. He took a kid - a kid - to get reprogrammed, and he had the audacity to leave him alone. He was going to find him, take his fist and-

The door sliding open distracted him from planning his revenge. Nala Se walked out, a proud expression on her pale, flat face. By her side was Kote - his face completely void of any emotion. Seventeen stood at attention, despite wanting to just grab the kid and go.

“The reprogramming of CC-2224 was a success.” Nala Se spoke with an overconfident tone to her voice. Her and her little crew thought themselves to be gods. Seventeen was sick of it.

But if anything, this was just proving to him why he needed to be there for his batch. The Kaminoans would always be watching, always ready to decomm them. If Seventeen were there, he could stop it. At least most of it.

It wouldn’t happen again.

Nala Se finished her discussion of some scientific findings from the operation, waiting for Seventeen to respond. He hadn’t been paying attention, so he just cleared his throat and nodded. Luckily, Nala Se didn’t seem to really care what he had to say. She released Kote’s hand and walked back into the medbay. Seventeen had the terrible thought that if he wasn’t here, they wouldn’t just left Kote on his own.

Seventeen reached his hand out for the boy, who stared at it blankly. Seventeen sighed, scooping him up and carrying him. It hurt that the boy didn’t react - Kote would’ve been fighting him every step of the way. Instead, he sat limply. Like dead weight.

Seventeen walked back to the cadet barracks, noting the empty hallways. It must be late, and most troopers must be in their bunks. Regardless, Seventeen wasn’t surprised when he walked into Command Batch 02’s barracks and found the entire batch sitting up. Or, almost the entire batch. Wolffe sat on Kote’s bed, Fox sleeping with his head against his shoulder. Bly sat with Ponds on his bed, whispering soft words of reassurance as Ponds sniffled. The three awake cadets snapped their heads towards the door. They’d been waiting. Wolffe’s face erupts into a wide grin.

“Kote-“ he’s interrupted by Bly shushing him and pointing to Fox “- you’re back! I- why are you looking at me like that?”

Seventeen put Kote down on his bunk. “He’s gonna be a little weird for a while.

“Sir, is he okay?” Bly asked softly, fear laced in his voice. Seventeen nodded. He hoped it wasn’t a lie.

“He will be, don’t worry.”

Kote was looking around the barracks currently, his brothers watching him warily. It was wrong - normally, they’d be laughing and talking and fighting (Seventeen had found his way outside the door a few times, just to assure himself they were still alive). Now, it was too quiet. Seventeen cleared his throat, giving the boys a small nod.

“…I’ll leave you to it.”

***

It wasn’t normal, but it was better.

Kote was still good at strategy. He was still the fastest with assembling his weapon. He was just less creative, less optimistic, less unique.

Less independent.

The strain could be seen - Fox had avoided Kote like the plague for a good two months. But by now (after a lot of coaxing by Bly) the batch seemed to have found a new normal.

The old Kote had its unique ways of shining through. Seventeen just hoped that eventually the effects of reprogramming would be diminished to little more than a scar.

[vaultedoverthehorse]

sneak peak of the next installment to Command Batch 02!

“Wolffe snarled, heading towards Fox. It’s a blur of limbs, blocking, punching, and clawing. Desperate fighting. They weren’t exactly using the moves he’d taught them, but they’d been at this for hours - the other three were long gone. Fox and Wolffe had been unruly and out of line as usual, so Seventeen hoped the extra exercise would tire them out, but that seemed to only be working for one of them.

Wolffe’s head slams back on the mat, Fox pinning him down with a triumphant glint in his eyes. Wolffe might have been a better fighter than Fox, but he was too angry to think rationally. Fox knew how to exploit that. Wolffe glared up at Fox and tapping out aggressively.”

[vaultedoverthehorse]

Thank youuuu!

Using this a chance to market that there will be a whole series of these with three already written 🤭

Bly didn't like fighting. He only fought when necessary - and he didn't see punching his brothers on Kamino as necessary. Perhaps that was why he came back from training the bloodiest. Alpha-17 wouldn't have commented on it, except for the fact that he'd seen the pairings today. Bly had been partnered with Fox - and though Fox was the best fighter, he wouldn't have done that. The bloody nose, split lip, black eye - no, Fox was too smart for that. On Wolffe, maybe. But that's because Wolffe wouldn't back down. On Bly, however? On Bly, Fox would push him around for long enough that the longnecks weren't suspicious - and then Bly would tap out, both vod walking away unscathed. So, to Alpha-17, it all just seemed suspicious.

Despite it being suspicious, Seventeen wasn’t about to baby the cadets. They were soldiers - in four short years, they would be commanders. They would be in charge of entire legions of troopers. They needed to learn how to deal with adversity. Besides, the longnecks already disliked the batch - they’d be looking for any reason to decommission them. They were loud, independent, and didn’t listen well enough. No matter how many suicides Seventeen ran them through. But they were good, too good to be decommed. Sometimes Seventeen wondered if there was a mutation in their batch that made them this way. Kote was smarter and more creative, Fox more observant and cunning, Wolffe more brash and aggressive, Ponds more sensitive and adaptive. And Bly was more emotionally intelligent, more reasonable. If it didn’t put a target on their backs, Seventeen would be proud.

Currently, he was in the Commando’s barracks, cleaning his armor over and over. The others were off somewhere, leaving a tense silence that clung to everything like dust. He should’ve expected something would go wrong - it always does. As he reached for his chest plate, the door to the barracks slid open. Before he could even look up, he heard little footsteps running up to his bed. He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Cadet, you can’t-“ Seventeen started to chastise, but was cut off by the boys high-pitched ramble. Ponds was always the closest with Bly, so Seventeen hadn’t been surprised earlier when he seemed the most worried. But by now he should’ve moved on - bad things happened in war. That’s what this training was - the Nulls were preparing the cadets to survive. Seventeen was preparing his batch to survive. They couldn’t be soft.

“Bly - he’s - he’s really hurt.” Ponds seemed to be genuinely scared for his brother. Seventeen sighed, pushing his armor off to the side. “Cadet, he’s got a black eye and a split lip...I can’t just-“

Again, Ponds cut him off. He’ll be running laps around the facility for hours because of that. “Please, he got stabbed or - or something-“

Seventeen’s brow furrowed, his body tensing as if ready to fight. “….he what?” It had supposed to have been a melee session. And even if it hadn’t been, they never used weapons that would result in a stabbing. Getting stunned or shot, sure. But stabbed?

Ponds nodded, his eyes wide with fear. “B-Bric took over for Fox and Bly still wouldn’t fight and then-“

Seventeen had already stood up, and started walking to the door. The moment Ponds told him it was Bric, any surprise had left him. Bric didn’t think the clones were human - to him, they were just pets who needed to be trained, and aggression was his favorite tool. He was known to be cruel in training. Pulling a blade wasn’t the worst thing he’d done. But to one of Seventeen’s batch? He wanted to pull Bric’s stupid head off and throw him into the sea below.

“Let’s move, cadet.” He said tensely, motioning for Ponds to follow. Relief crossed Ponds’ face, and that hurt even more - did he think Seventeen wouldn’t care? There was no time to dwell on it now. Not if he had a kid bleeding in the cadets barracks.

The door to the cadets barracks slid open, and instantly the sounds of bickering could be heard from his batch’s bunks.

“It’s not supposed to look like that-“

“Guys-“

“-turn it around-“

“-it’s not a big deal-“

“-I got it-“

“-Wolffe get away-“

“-guys!”

Seventeen rounded the corner, and the scene before him was worse than he’d thought. Somehow the batch had gotten their hands on a medpac, and they were currently trying to place a bacta patch on Bly’s stomach - which was bleeding profusely. Kote was kneeling before him, a look of concentration on his face that would be funny in any other situation. Fox was over his shoulder, correcting him on every move he made, even though Fox didn’t know anything about medical care either. Wolffe was to Fox’s left, looking ever so slightly worried as he watched his brother’s work. All of them were too focused to notice Seventeen as he neared.

Cleaning his throat, Seventeen gave the batch his best glare. “What’s going on here?”

Wolffe jumped, then instantly looked angry at the fact that he had been scared. He gave Ponds a betrayed look, then looked at Seventeen. “Sir, we-“

Seventeen shook his head to silence him, then focused on Kote. “Move.” He said harshly, and the boy dropped the bacta patch and scurried to the side. Bly looked terrified, not saying a word as Seventeen kneeled before him. “This isn’t how you put a bacta patch on. You should clean the wound first if possible.” He took a pack from the medpac, ripping it open with his teeth.

Fox cleared his throat, watching Seventeen curiously. “Sir, we-“

“Not now.” Seventeen spoke tersely. He pulled the disinfectant pad out, and started to wipe down the wound. He ignored the hiss of pain Bly let out, instead speaking to the other four cadets. “Go to mess. You’re late enough as it is.” There was some scuffling and angry whispering behind him, before they finally shuffled out. The tension in the barracks was thick. Seventeen could feel Bly shaking slightly as he cleaned the wound.

Seventeen dropped the disinfectant pad to the side, looking up to meet Bly’s eyes. “Want to tell me how this happened?”

Bly looked away, taking a deep breath. “Yes, sir.” He was always the best with decorum, and for once Seventeen hated it - Bly should be angry, all his brothers would be. But instead he seemed defeated. “I - I wouldn’t fight at training today.”

Seventeen nodded, activating a bacta patch. “And?”

“A-and Bric caught on…he said I needed to be ‘motivated,’ sir.”

Seventeen felt his jaw clench, his hands shaking as he applied the bacta patch onto Bly’s wound. It wasn’t as deep as it looked, but he still wasn’t happy about it. “…it’s not your fault, cadet.”

Bly’s lip quivered, and he watched Seventeen carefully. “…am I going to be decommed.”

Seventeen jumped, dread spreading through his veins. “What?”

“Bric said that I was-“ Bly’s voice broke, tears filling his eyes. “-defective.”

Seventeen shook his head, pulling the boy in for a hug. He wasn’t ever physically comforting with his batch, but he cared for them. And seeing one of them cry because of the Nulls made him feel angry and guilty. “Bly, you aren’t defective.” He heard the boy sniffle, felt his blacks growing wet. Bly pulled away, looking up at him with tear-streaked cheeks.

“B-but why-“

“Bric’s a kriffing arse.” Seventeen spat out. “You aren’t defective, you’re fine. You’re just unique, and that’s a good thing vod’ika.”

Bly nodded. He didn’t seem comforted, but it was all Seventeen could give him. At least the tears were slowing. Seventeen stood up, leaving the contents of the medpac spread around their room. “Come on, cadet. Let’s get you to the mess.”

Bly nodded, wiping his cheeks as he stood. The two walked in silence, Bly a step behind as if they were marching to battle. Seventeen kept his head up high, trying to ignore the feelings of guilt gnawing at him. The hallways were dead, apart from a few soldiers walking back from mess. When they arrived at the said room, Seventeen stood by the door. Bly looked up at him, as if waiting for permission. Seventeen nodded at the boy, and watched him walk to Command Batch 02’s usual table. He slid into his usual seat next to Ponds, who slid him an untouched tray. Seventeen watched from a distance as Bly’s eyes started to light up, watched the laughter as Wolffe and Fox bickered over something stupid. And Seventeen wondered: what was the point to it all? When they graduated they’d be split up to all corners of the galaxy. He was raising them like lambs to a slaughter, waiting for their deaths.

Even if there was nothing he could do, at least they had each other for now. Seventeen stood up straight, then turned on his heel and left the mess. He couldn’t stand to watch them anymore.