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artist-kreating-stuff · 2 months ago

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Ever since he woke up, he wanted to die.

When Fives told him about the conspiracy that supposedly reached the highest places in the Senate, Kix knew something was up. Fives was usually so cheerful and laid back, so to see him so harried and insistent greatly unnerved him. Then Fives was shot and killed by friendly fire for conspiracy against the Chancellor? He knew he had to investigate.

So he did some digging of his own; he owed it to Fives. He discovered the inhibitor chips and their true purpose within the clones, even going as far as to remove his own. The procedure had left a scar, so he started to grow out his hair to cover it up. Of course he got looks and questions from his brothers about the change in style, but as long as he could continue his work without anyone looking too far into him, he was fine.

That’s what he thought, anyway.

He had his evidence. He had his testimony. He was fully prepared to face either the Jedi Council or the Senate, and expose the Chancellor and the Kaminoans for conspiracy and treason.

That was when the Separatists found him.

What happened next was a blur, but the next thing he knew, he was tumbling out of a cryo-cycle stasis pod and having trouble breathing. He didn’t recognize the people standing around him, but he tried anyway to get them to listen. He told them what he’d found out and tried to stress the urgency of the situation, fearing for the lives of his brothers and the safety of the Republic.

Only for them to laugh in his face and tell him that the Clone Wars had been over for 50 years.

50 years. He had been frozen in stasis for that long. The Clone Wars were over. Kamino was destroyed. The clones had turned on the Jedi, effectively wiping them out. The Republic had fallen. The Galactic Empire had taken its place. That Empire had only lasted 20 years. A New Republic was slowly being built in its place.

Most shockingly, all of his brothers were gone.

Everyone and everything Kix had ever known was simply no more. He had no family. No allies. No home. No purpose. He was truly and utterly alone in the galaxy.

Ever since he woke up, he wanted to die.

Or he would be, if the pirate crew that found him hadn’t offered to take him in. Pirates, of all things. The very people he and his brothers had sworn to fight against. The irony was not lost on him.

He took their offer anyway. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go.

So he traveled with them, discovering new treasures and learning new things about the galaxy he had been locked out of for so long. He was especially horrified to learn that his brothers’ good names had been slandered for generations. Instead of being known for the brave and loyal soldiers that he knew they were, they were known as monsters who had helped the worst governments in the history of the galaxy to gain power.

Ever since he woke up, he wanted to die.

He couldn’t stand knowing that his brothers were being remembered in the wrong - make that the worst - way. So whenever the crew stopped in a town and he had an audience that would listen, he would tell them stories about the Clone Wars. More specifically, the clones themselves. He would tell them about the various struggles they went through during the war, and even helped to clear up some misunderstandings about some of the more well-known battles. He would tell them how some of the clones spent their downtime, fleshing them out, making them human for his audience. The more stories he told, the more he overheard others speak of the clones in a favorable tone. The realization made him happy, knowing that he was clearing his brothers’ good names.

But no matter how many stories he told, the ache in his chest refused to go away. The knowledge that he could have saved his brothers and the Republic as a whole hung over his head like a cloud from Kamino. Whenever he saw a piece of armor or of a ship from the Clone Wars, it took everything in his willpower not to break down crying. Whenever he tried to enjoy a drink, he would remember how he and his brothers would hang out at 79’s, and the memories would turn the already bitter drinks even more so. Whenever someone tried to get his attention and he turned, expecting to see his own face staring back at him, only to see a stranger, he had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming. Whenever he was forced to take down an enemy, he would remember when he once used his hands to save others instead of harm them, and he would wonder what his brothers would think of him if they could see him.

Ever since he woke up, he wanted to die.

The idea to end his own life surfaced time and time again, if only to see his brothers again, but he knew they would never forgive him if he took the easy way out. So whenever he found himself or his comrades in a sticky situation, he fought with everything he had. He fought like a soldier of the Republic, preserving his brothers’ legacy through his actions as well as his words. He made sure that the entire galaxy knew that the clones weren’t extinct.

That being said, if his time were to come, either by blaster fire or some other form of death, he wouldn’t fight it. He would accept his end and march on to the afterlife to join his brothers. He honestly couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait for Hardcase to sweep him up in one of his bone-crushing hugs. He couldn’t wait for Jesse to give him a slightly gentler hug, though nonetheless firm. He couldn’t wait for Fives to slap him on the back and ask, “What took you so long?” He couldn’t wait for Rex to squeeze his shoulder and say “Welcome home, trooper.”

Ever since he woke up, he wanted to go home.

—————

My friend got me hooked on Star Wars: The Clone Wars a couple months ago, and I’ve been falling down a clone rabbit hole ever since. Those brave men were created for a war they had no say in, yet still fought in. They saved many planets and even more lives, but were forced to turn against themselves and their allies in the end. They deserve more than what the galaxy can give them.

And then I heard of Kix - the last clone trooper, still alive 50 years after the end of the war. Left to live in a galaxy that had no more of his brothers in it. Left to deal with everything they’d left behind.

Literally the last of his kind. Do you have any idea how lonely this man would feel?

I had to write something for him, if only to make others feel my pain.

I may be becoming too attached to these characters - someone please send help.

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wanderinginksplot · 1 year ago

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Kix + Competence

After a rocky meeting, you try to avoid Kix and the attraction of his competence. It doesn't work out.

Kix x gn!reader (no use of 'y/n' and no pronouns). Romantic.

Word Count: 3,200

Warnings: feelings of intimidation, mentions of trooper genetic manipulation, nervousness, some awkwardness.

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"Alright, that finishes up the bulk of today's briefing," Captain Rex announced. "Any other business?"

"Yeah, why are we having a briefing when we're so deep in unoccupied space that a Seppie would be a welcome sight?" one of the nearby troopers asked rhetorically, his voice pitched low enough that only the trooper beside him - and you - could hear.

It wasn't a bad point. The briefing had mostly been made up of minor points about the ship's maintenance and small alterations to the mission… only the declassified pieces, of course. The captain was welcome to have as many meetings as he wanted, but you were curious why you had to attend.

You were a last-minute addition to the Resolute, pulled in to fill a position that had been vacated due to an unfortunate combination of injuries, deaths, and transfers. The job as a radar technician was one you excelled at, and your supervisor had immediately recommended you to fill the temporary vacancy. Your competitive streak had preened at the recognition of your skills, even if they sent you to a dangerous position far from home.

The fact that you had no family and few friends was probably part of the reason for your new assignment, but you were trying not to think about that.

In any case, silence reigned in the hangar bay after the captain had asked his question and you were ready for the meeting to end, but the captain nodded to one of the troopers.

As the man in question stepped forward, your heart gave a heaving thud and you did your best to look somewhere else.

Kix was the 501st's medic, the one assigned to keep the men safe and treat any injuries that may occur in the field. He was an efficient worker, an unflinching professional, and extremely competent in every respect.

That was the problem.

Your first interaction with the medic had been less than ideal. You had been brand new to the Resolute and interacting with some troopers for the first time when you had asked how they spent down time on the cruiser. They had mentioned a few things, but seemed especially excited about competitions in the blaster ranges. As always, the mention of a chance to excel had piqued your interest and you had excitedly mentioned that you were a good shot.

“Who knows?” you had joked. “I might even end up beating some of you!”

They had laughed, but Kix - standing nearby - hadn’t. “Doubtful. Troopers are bred from the genes up to be better than nat-borns at anything combat-related. Shooting, running, strategy, detonators…”

With the horrible sensation of prior interest that had now curdled in your stomach, you offered a curt nod and walked away.

Kix’s bluntness hadn’t been a surprise, especially since he was a medic, but it paired poorly with a shocking revelation you had about yourself: you liked him.

You hadn’t known how thrilling you found competence until you had joined the GAR… and even then, you encountered very few examples of it. But on the Resolute, Kix was the one who had drawn your attention. At first that was mostly due to irritation, but it had soon turned to reluctant admiration. He was attractive even beyond his bearing and you could see yourself in a relationship with him - hells, you had imagined it often enough - but your assignment was probably temporary and it seemed like a bad idea.

So, as the self-assured, competitive technician you considered yourself, you put all your energy toward avoiding Kix any time there was a chance of sharing a space.

It really didn’t work very well. You always found yourself in situations where Kix was present. Even worse, he always seemed to be doing something that showed how intensely good he was at being a medic or influencing his brothers or any number of things he had been trained to do. It was frustrating.

At the front of the room, Kix had only just started to speak. Despite your determination not to stare at- ahem, watch him, his voice commanded your attention and you found your gaze locked on him anyway.

“As most of the veteran troopers on this ship know, you are expected to meet basic safety standards to serve aboard a space-faring vessel, especially in times of war. Every being on this ship must hold certain certifications concerning those standards.” Kix glanced around the room. “I know we have a few newcomers on the Resolute, so consider this your briefing: you need to attend a class and an assessment. Dates and times for those are posted on the ship’s information boards and outside of the medbay.”

This wasn’t the first you had heard about safety standards and certifications. You had even known they were required for serving on ships. However, you had always assumed you were exempt since you were only a specialist brought on for a temporary assignment. Apparently, that wasn’t the case.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you reasoned. Kix probably wouldn’t be there. Why would a medic supervise safety regulatory compliance? …okay, you could guess why. But he had other work to do.

Your hopes were instantly dashed when Kix finished, “I’ll be personally supervising every training and assessment. If you don’t complete your full certification by the end of the week, you’ll be subject to disciplinary action.”

“What if we’re already certified but wanna come hang out with our favorite medic?” a voice called from the front of the group.

Kix rolled his eyes, but a grin flashed over his face as he said, “Jesse, you can go ahead and let your certification expire. I don’t think anyone is comfortable with the idea of you trying to save their life.”

A loud scoff and some raucous laughter was the only answer to that… at least until Captain Rex announced, “Dismissed.”

You were slow to join the crowd of troopers drifting toward the doors back into the main body of the Resolute. Even just that split-second smirk on the handsome medic’s face had been enough to throw your heart into a pounding rhythm.

How were you ever going to survive a full class with him and still learn enough to pass the assessment? You certainly didn’t want to be found lacking, even in a temporary assignment. And especially since you knew Kix had such a low opinion of nat-borns already.

Two days later, you hadn’t found an answer, but you were in the class. It wasn’t the last one offered, but it was the only one that worked with your schedule. Infuriatingly, Kix had been around even more often since the briefing. Any time you were somewhere for more than an hour or two, he would be there as well. The reasons were always different and valid: working on a project, checking on someone who had sustained an injury on the last mission, following up with people who had taken their assessments.

When you finally walked into the class, you were relieved to find that it seemed to be a module-based course. There were workstations set around the room, each with a datapad lying on the desk.

“Welcome,” a voice greeted warmly. You knew who the voice belonged to, and a polite - if mildly pained - smile was already stretched over your face by the time you turned. “Let me explain how the class is going to work.”

You nodded, glancing around the room as an excuse to avoid his eyes. You were worried what they would see in yours. “I would appreciate that. I’m a little lost.”

“Well, we’re going to start with a short holovid on the datapads,” Kix told you, gesturing to the waiting row of workstations. “It’ll walk you through some basic safety and first aid information. Then, when you’ve finished the video, you’ll come to the back area.”

You hadn’t seen the small, half-curtained area until Kix pointed it out, and then your nerves were thrumming with tension.

“To demonstrate the skills there, I assume?” you checked. When Kix nodded, you asked, “And is this a test situation or a collaborative effort?”

“More the former than the latter,” Kix told you. “That works better for you, since you’re the only one who signed up for this particular time slot.”

The signups had indicated that you would need one to two hours to complete the full course. Just your luck that time would be spent completely alone with the 501st’s handsome medic.

“I’m sure you have other things to do,” you said in a desperate attempt to get out of this for a little longer. “I can sign up for a different course with other people in it. Just let me know what day and time.”

This was the only course that worked with your schedule, but surely you could be excused from your job to be certified in order to continue performing said job? That sounded like something you could convince your supervisor to allow.

But Kix was already shaking his head. “You’re already here and I’ve had this time set aside since you signed up. Go ahead and grab a datapad. The holofilm is already queued up. Let me know when you’re done and we’ll move on to the second half of things.”

You weren’t sure what you had expected to see in the holofilm - maybe CPR or basic first aid - but you were met with a diagram of a Venator-class star destroyer.

An LY-77 droid began speaking about the build of the ship, what each floor held, and where the major mechanical components were housed. You held a top-secret security clearance as part of the requirements for your job, but this was still intensely well-guarded information. Honestly, you weren’t sure you were supposed to be seeing it at all, but it was interesting enough to hold your attention.

The droid talked you through emergency plans, evacuation routes, and the location of medical kits. Then the holovid delved deeper into the specifics of what you could find in the medkits and how each piece should be used. That was where things started to get more complex. The medkits were meant to help with anything from trips and falls to depressurization.

Just as you were starting to feel bitter at Kix for describing the holovid as ‘short’, it ended. That would have been good, but it left you with the realization that you had to go spend time one-on-one with the medic.

When you walked toward the curtained area, you found Kix sitting at his desk seemingly engrossed in filling out forms. You cleared your throat softly. “Kix? I’m done with the holovid.”

Kix immediately stowed his datapad in a drawer and stood. “Good. Any questions?”

You shook your head and he gestured you toward the curtained area. When you stepped through, you found a realistic mannequin lying on the bed with a medkit on the table beside it. It seemed to be a generically humanoid medical mannequin, though someone had drawn the outline of a chestplate across the torso, along with some lines that looked suspiciously like Hardcase’s tattoos.

“We’re going to run through some questions and test how well you remember the different topics covered in the holovid,” Kix told you.

Despite the nervousness screaming through your system, you passed the majority of the test without making a mistake. Luckily, the internal organization of a Venator-class star destroyer was fairly logical, which made it easier to follow. Questions about emergency situations had captured your attention, so you had retained more than you might have, otherwise.

“Okay, great job,” Kix congratulated. “Let’s move on to the practical portion. Go ahead and open the kit.”

That sounded simple enough - and it should have been - but the medkit had latches unlike anything you had ever seen before. Dimly, you remembered the holovid mentioning that the medkits were tamper-proof, with latches designed to be operated only by sentients. You weren’t sure whether the sentient-operated design was one you endorsed, especially since you couldn’t manage to pry them open, even as a sentient yourself.

“They’re sent-op latches,” Kix reminded you.

You gritted your teeth in an effort to hold back a biting retort. “I realize that. I’m just having trouble opening them.”

“The holovid showed you how to open them.”

The underlying meaning being that you should remember how to use the latches. Or that you hadn’t been paying attention. Both of those conclusions frustrated you because, despite paying attention, you didn’t remember how to operate the latches.

“I don’t have a perfect memory, not like you do,” you countered. Your irritation made the factual statement sound snappish. Kix frowned and you shook your head, regret spiking in your chest. Just because you thought he was condescending didn’t mean you could be rude. “I didn’t mean it like that…”

“Do you need something to eat?”

The sudden change in topic made you stare. “Wh-what?”

“Your hands are shaking,” Kix pointed out, already bustling to a nearby cabinet. Before you could get more than two words into your explanation, he was back and pressing a small packet of crackers into your hands… Which, you had to admit, were noticeably shaking.

“Are you feeling okay?” he continued. “Eat and I’ll get you something to drink. I think I’ve got some juice around here. I haven’t seen anything noteworthy in your medical records, but we can run some tests-”

“Kix, I’m fine,” you interrupted. “I’m nervous, not sick.”

He pulled up short, squinting at you. “Nervous? Why are you nervous?”

“Well, I’m not sure…” you drawled slowly, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Maybe it’s because I’m being tested on a half-learned set of procedures by a hyper-competent medical officer?”

“You shouldn’t be nervous,” Kix assured you.

You rolled your eyes. “Kix, put yourself in my position. You wouldn’t be nervous if you were me?”

“I’m already nervous.”

You would have taken it as a joke, a dry little comment meant to either put you down slightly or attempt to put you at ease (failure though it would be). However, the surprised and regretful look on Kix’s face told you that wasn’t the case.

“You’re nervous?” you asked, feeling stunned. “Why would you be nervous?”

“It’s not- That isn’t-” Kix cut himself off with a sharp sigh and an impatient turn, like he had other things he needed to do. But now that you knew what to look for, you saw past the cool, professional facade. He really was on-edge. “You aren’t an easy person to get to know.”

If the galaxy had given you a thousand guesses, that wouldn’t have been among them. “Get to know me? I don’t understand.”

Another sigh. “You know the men talk amongst themselves, right?”

“Yes, I know,” you told him with a shrug. You had seen the troopers gossip in the mess hall, on the bridge, in hallways… anywhere, really. “They aren’t exactly subtle.”

“Of course not,” Kix agreed, shaking his head in exasperation and mild amusement. “But you may not know that they have plenty to say about you.”

You winced. “Anything I need to explain?”

Kix frowned for a moment in confusion, then barked out a laugh. “No, nothing concerning. They say good things about you. Really good things, actually. Mostly that you’re hardworking and trustworthy and funny. And there’s the- Well, the… You know you’re good-looking, right?”

Now it was your turn to give a sharp laugh. “Pretty rich coming from the best-looking trooper in the GAR.”

Any embarrassment you may have felt at saying that directly to Kix’s face was negated by the fact that you had heard the comment parroted word-for-word at least two dozen times since you had first stepped aboard the Resolute.

And you made sure your tone showed that, too.

Kix grinned anyway, as cocky as you would have expected if the compliment had been given by you alone. “Flattery won’t make me forget the rest of the assessment, but you’re welcome to keep trying.”

“Don’t get too excited,” you warned him, watching his expression stay exactly the same despite it. “I also think you’re rude and condescending.”

Finally a reaction - Kix grimaced slightly. “Because of the genetic superiority comment?”

“Yes.” If the confirmation came out flat and a little dry, it was still better than anything else that may have escaped you.

“Yeah, Denal told me I karked that one up pretty badly,” he admitted, looking a little sheepish. “I’ve wanted to make it up to you, but I was trying to let you make the first move and you never acknowledge me.”

That made you frown in realization. “Wait, is that why you’re always hanging around? Trying to get me to talk to you?”

Now Kix was frowning, too. “Yes? Why else would I do it?”

“Honestly, I thought you were showing off,” you replied. “You always seemed to be doing something to prove how great a soldier you are or how skilled you are at being the 501st’s medic.”

Kix ducked his head, handsome face reddening slightly. “Well, if I was going to be around anyway, I thought it might help if you thought I was good at my job.”

“That’s never been in question,” you countered, feeling exasperated. “Anyone can see you’re good at your job, Kix. But all it made me feel was intimidation.”

And attraction, a traitorous little voice reminded, not incorrectly. You pushed it away, but not soon enough. Whatever Kix had read in your expression, it was enough to give him a look that was almost gleeful.

“What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything,” you denied.

“No, but you didn’t have to.” Kix took a step toward you, putting himself squarely in touching distance. You got the distinct feeling it was meant to be for your benefit. “Come on, tell me what that face was about.”

The resulting argument was short, but longer than was worth it. Eventually, you sighed. “Like I said, you’re a good-looking man. Can we move on?”

“On one condition.”

You frowned at the cryptic answer. “And that is?”

“Spend some time with me,” he requested. “Just dinner here on the ship. Any time you want before we get back to Coruscant. And then it’s up to you - if you want to keep seeing each other, say the word and I’ll plan a better date planetside. What do you think?”

The pause you took to think it over was about twice the time you actually needed, but it was soothing the remains of your irritation to see him start looking nervous. At last, you took pity on him. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” Kix said, gracing you with a small but sincere smile that spread over his handsome face. That smile turned into a grin the next moment as he nodded toward your hands. “I still need you to open that medkit, though.”

Your groan was loud and mostly theatrical, interrupted by Kix’s laugh and broken by your own.

---

Author's Note - I feel like I've written very few fics featuring Kix (other than Nobody Listens to Kix), so I wanted to write one. Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it!

You can find other works on my masterlist or sign up for my taglist here!

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#star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #kix #clone medic kix #clone trooper kix #kix x reader #gn!reader #kix x you #reader insert fic #reader insert #ink's fics #clone troopers deserve better

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local-jawa · 1 year ago

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I’m sorry but just try to imagine the pain of being Kix. You find out about the inhibitor-chips, get a glimpse of hope and try to warn the others, get captured, get unconscious and then wake up 50 years later. My heart is dying. It was just “yesterday” when he was joking with his brothers, found out that Echo was alive and served his General. And then, just in a glimpse, the galaxy has moved on, but he didn’t. He wakes up in a whole new world with no purpose and no one to lean on to. Everyone he might have known is gone. Literally everyone. I’ve been crying over this for a long time and it just HURTS.

God, Star Wars is destroying me.

#clone medic kix #kix #clone trooper kix #tcw kix #clone wars kix #kix deserves better #they all deserve better #just yesterday you were one of a million and now you are just the one

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aspenstarflare · 1 year ago

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Anakin and Ahsoka arriving on Umbara immediately after they hear all the horrible stuff Krell did:

[As they land via the gunship and the doors open they see all their men sitting/standing in front of the landing pad, all having varying degrees of mental breakdowns]

Anakin and Ahsoka: Oh force..

[Everyone single trooper in their radius snaps their heads towards them immediately and silently]

Anakin looking around noticing he doesn’t see lots of his men anywhere: Where’s Hardcase? Where’s-

The surviving members of the 501st: Buir! Vod’ika!

[They all jump at their general and commander, forcing them into a massive group hug before they two can even say anything. The boys all sniffling and crying while the two hug them back and whisper reassurances of how they’re now safe and they won’t leave them alone again]

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wanderinginksplot-writes · 5 months ago

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Clone Trooper Rambles

Real life. Real situations. Imaginary clone troopers.

Warnings: Mentions of nervous tics, mentions of nervousness, references to clone trooper culture, avoidance, emotions.

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Tics

I was looking at the screen of my laptop. My stare was hard enough that it was starting to make my eyes ache, but I wasn’t seeing it, not really. It was just a convenient backdrop for the intensity of my thoughts.

“What is it?” Kix asked.

I glanced over at him, already frowning. I was pretty sure no one had spoken in at least ten minutes, and I definitely hadn’t. “What is what?”

“Why are you biting the inside of your cheek?” he asked, pointing vaguely at my face.

I dropped my hand down into my lap. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liar,” Crosshair said.

“You always bite the inside of your lips and cheeks when you’re stressed,” Hound added. “Grizzer does the same thing, except he chews on his leg.”

Grizzer was undeniably adorable, but being compared to a massiff was less than flattering. “I don’t-”

“It’s a nervous tic,” Kix interrupted. “Most people have one. Or a few. Perfectly normal.”

“Then why point it out?” I asked, feeling inexplicably flustered.

“Because it means you’re nervous about something,” Hound explained helpfully.

“Or feeling more stress than usual.” Kix shrugged as he delivered that addition, apparently choosing to ignore my gaping.

“That isn’t-”

“You always do that,” Crosshair cut in, no remorse in his expression or tone. “Enough that most of us have noticed.”

The quote about the ‘mortifying ordeal of being known’ went through my mind as I frowned at everyone. “Okay, sure. Let’s say that is a nervous tic of mine. Why haven’t you mentioned it before?”

“We’re supposed to talk about every weird thing you do?” Crosshair asked loftily.

“Well… no…” I admittedly slowly. That sounded remarkably close to hell, honestly.

“You also bite your nails.”

“Thank you, Hound,” I told him, giving my most sarcastic smile.

“And there’s the fake smile,” Kix summarized. When he caught the look I was giving him, he sighed. “When you share a face with most of an army, you start to pick up on expressions and behaviors to identify people instead of features. That’s my theory, anyway. It means troopers are observant to a fault, even when we’re around nat-borns instead of other troopers.”

Irritated as I was with the conclusion, I had to admit that Kix’s theory made sense. Not out loud, though. Instead, I asked, “Was there a point to this exploration of my quirks?”

“Yeah,” Crosshair said, jerking his chin toward the screen of my computer. “What has you so nervous?”

“I…” Deep breath, glance at the screen to check that I hadn’t misunderstood. “I got a job offer.”

“That’s great!” Kix cheered.

“Congratulations!” Hound told me with a broad smile.

“Why are you nervous about that?” Crosshair asked.

At the same time, Kix’s smile turned to a frown. “Have you told the captain yet?”

“No.”

“There it is,” Hound muttered.

I was feeling defensive all of a sudden. “Hang on, I just got the email. How would I have already told him?”

Three fingers pointing at wrist and forearm comlinks were held up almost simultaneously and I sighed. “Okay, sure. I’ll tell him, obviously, but I want to do it in my own time.”

“What are you waiting for?” Kix asked. “Are you still trying to decide if you want to accept the job?”

“No, I’m taking it,” I dismissed immediately. “I agonized over whether I was going to apply, remember? That was when I did the soul-searching and decision-making. This is what I ultimately decided on doing, and I’m not going to turn down the thing I decided to do. That doesn’t make sense.”

“Add it to the list,” Crosshair muttered.

“If you know you’re going to take the job, why are you hesitating?” Hound asked, leaning his elbow on his helmet where it rested on the floor beside him. “You already did the part that makes most people nervous.”

“This is… the last moment before- Well, before everything changes,” I explained haltingly. It wasn’t incredibly clear as explanations went, but it was the best I could offer. “Right now, I’m balancing on the edge between life going on as it has and it changing completely. I already decided that I don’t want things to stay the same, but I… I want to exist in this moment for a little while longer. Give myself the opportunity to look back before I close the door.”

“Take as long as you need,” Rex said kindly.

I swore as everyone else saluted. “How much did you hear?”

“Everything,” Rex admitted with a shrug. “I keep telling you that you should install an alarm system.”

“No alarm system on the planet will go off when someone steps through a door!” I argued.

“Congratulations,” he said instead of continuing the argument.

I deflated. “Thank you. I just need a little time before I get back to them. As you know from sneaking around.”

“When I said you should take your time, I meant it,” Rex told me, gaze steady. “They’re getting an excellent worker with the brains to keep up with whatever they throw your way. They’ll wait for an answer just hoping it will be a yes.��

As emotionally fragile as I was at the moment, my eyes got a little watery at that quiet encouragement.

“Now look what you did!” Hound said, scrambling to his feet.

Crosshair frowned harshly at me. “Stop that right now.”

My laugh was a little shaky, but I blinked the worst of it away.

Kix shook his head. “I think you should just let it out.”

“No,” I refused, echoed in unison by the other three troopers. I made a face at them. “I think that was enough of a moment after all. Things are going to change, but I’m okay with that. I think I’m ready.”

---

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Author's Note: I know I talk a lot about how out-of-order these are posted, but I have been working this job for over a year. Just in case that offers some additional perspective!

#clone trooper rambles #rambles #ink's life #ink's fics #creative writing #journaling #creating journaling #clone trooper kix #tbb crosshair #arf trooper hound #captain rex #clone troopers deserve better #not crazy just creative #tw unreality

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sleepingsun501 · 2 years ago

Text

Same Heart, Same Blood

Character(s): Fives, Rex, Kix, Hevy's ghost

Summary: Fives' near-death experience after getting shot.

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Character death, near-death experience, talking to dead people, coma, organ transplantation mention. (Lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 2k

Ao3 link

A/N: This goes along with my work Set to Stun, so if you haven't read that, I highly recommend you do!! This is all based on a late-night headcanon discussion, my being sick, and very little editing, so I hope it's not too rough. I also apologize for any medical inaccuracies. But hey, Star Wars medicine! Special thank you to @rexxdjarin for talking me through the organ transplant HC, and to @writingbylee for letting me use her bacta HCs!! You're both awesome!!

Same Heart, Same Blood

He was floating, oddly disconnected from his body but still trapped within its confines. His hearing was irritatingly muffled, and he could not tell up from down or left from right anymore. He was simply there.

Through the cottony filter, he could hear what sounded like Rex, but he could not tell what he was saying. The brash voice of General Skywalker was there, too, but it was quickly fading, replaced by another brother’s voice.

“Six… minu… nee… mo… him… ow…” said the distorted voice. “ves… kno…in…ther… Fi… ang… on.”

He barely felt a pinch in his neck before an ethereal coolness enveloped him, taking him deeper into the welcoming darkness. He let himself drift, unable to do anything to stop it, and was content that he had done all he could.

***

Fives opened his eyes but saw nothing. The inky blackness was all-consuming, but it did not cause him any alarm. There was no need for panic. The deep dark space was calm, tranquil, and welcoming in an odd way. He was no longer in any pain, and there was no danger, no war, and nothing left to fight for. Peace at last.

Was this where death had brought him?

Before he was done registering the question, he saw a wisp of the most beautiful blue glide in a ribbony trail past his vision. Another quickly followed on his other side, splitting through the dark like hyperspace trails. More and more streaked across his line of sight from all around him, and he tracked their movement until he realized they were leading him away from wherever he was.

Fives took an automatic step, not realizing he had been standing on anything at all, and joined the swirling colors in their dance to wherever they were headed. He could not tell how long he walked, for there seemed to be no concept of time at all, but the wisps soon blended and faded into a warm, misty glow. He had no name for the color of the space, but he could see movement in the distance beyond—a figure drawing closer.

“Hello?” he asked. His voice sounded like his own, but it was also more like an echo in his head.

The figure took shape and became more solid the closer it got, and Fives wondered why his heart was not beating through his chest. He knew them—the tattoo on his jaw was unmistakable.

“Hello, Vod.”

“Hevy!” Fives breathed, reaching out for his long-dead brother.

Hevy’s semi-corporeal form reached back, locking a hand around Fives’ neck and bringing their foreheads together. “You did good, Vod, but it’s not your time yet.”

“What?” Fives asked, feeling like he should have been shedding enough tears to fill Kamino’s oceans. The wisps around them started moving faster, becoming brighter, until they were whiter than Fives’ could bear to look at directly. “You’re dead. So, am… am I?”

Hevy released him and gave him a gentle, familiar smile. “There are many things you still need to do.”

“Hevy, I-I don’t u-understand,” Fives stuttered, but the hand on the back of his neck gripped him more firmly.

“You will. Just listen for the echo.” Hevy removed his hand and suddenly began to fade into the bright wisps around them.

“Echo?” It was only then that Fives felt a surge of panic. Echo was dead. But why had Hevy come to him instead? “Hevy, wait! Where’s Echo?!”

Fives felt a hard tug behind his navel, pulling him into the bright light. “Where’s Echo?!” he kept calling. “Hevy!”

***

Beep… beep… beep…

It was a sharp, repetitive sound ringing in his ears every few moments. It was downright annoying. It was too bright now, pain shooting through his head.

Pain.

Once part of him had registered it, he became aware of it all at once. Every muscle, every limb, every inch of him down to his toes ached. He felt like he had been hit head-on by the Resolute jumping to lightspeed. His throat was dry, his lips hurt, his bones ached, and his lungs felt raw. He squeezed his eyes shut harder against the bright light, and even that hurt.

“…aking up,” said an urgent voice somewhere in the distance. “Contac… Rex…”

Fives groaned, realizing there was some kind of obstruction in his throat. He coughed against it, and it was quickly, albeit painfully, removed. As he slowly came around, blinking his crusty eyes furiously, he realized it was Kix hovering over him.

“Welcome back, brother,” Kix nearly laughed, smiling down at him. “Hang on, this will make you feel better.” He picked up a line and injected a generous amount of myobacta into it. “Thought we lost you there for a while, Vod.”

Fives tried to form the words he wanted to say, but he ended up in a hoarse coughing fit instead. Even as the bacta spread through his body, everything still ached.

“Easy, easy,” Kix soothed, elevating him into a reclined sitting position and adjusting the overhead light so it was not directly in Fives’ eyes. “You’ve been out for a few weeks, and you’ve got a new heart. It’s gonna take some time for you to fully recover. Just try to relax for me. I promise you’ll be all right.”

A new heart? Fives wondered. He lifted a weak hand to move the medical gown aside and looked down at his chest. There was a long, new scar over his sternum and a blotchy burn scar that was still sealed under a bacta patch on his left pec. No wonder everything hurts.

His thoughts were still disconnected and sluggish, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he had known since he was a shiny that the bodies of fallen brothers were often recovered after battles, and their organs were harvested and put into stasis in case another clone needed a replacement organ. It had always made him feel like the Kaminoans had done that purposefully, just to reinforce how expendable they were. He had tried to own it all the same, recalling telling the cadets on Kamino they all had the “same heart, same blood.” It was one of his more poetically symbolic moments, and he remembered Echo saying it would make a good tattoo.

Even though the dark truth was hard to admit, and it made him angry that such a thing as harvesting organs from fallen clones would be necessary, he also knew it had probably saved hundreds, maybe thousands, of other clones’ lives over the years—now including his own.

“Hey, you listening to me?” Kix asked.

Fives nodded weakly, thankful that Kix had moved the unforgivingly bright light. He had to wonder what had happened to him, though, to warrant receiving another brother’s heart. Kix’s bedside manner was also never this good unless someone had really been through hell, but he did not have long to dwell on the thought before the door burst open.

Rex came surging through the door as if he had sprinted the length of the Military Complex parade deck at full speed without stopping. He looked a little worse for wear, sporting an expression that was somewhere between elation and relief, and a new pale scar on the side of his head.

“Fives!” he all but laughed. “You’re awake!”

Fives nodded again. Why did everyone keep saying that? He had never fallen asleep that he could remember. He was with Hevy, and before that…

It all came flooding back in a rush. He remembered the plot, warning Rex and the general, picking up his pistol and screaming in a panic, aiming it at the red-clad Corries sent to take him away. He had been shot. Commander Fox had shot him directly in the heart. He remembered the searing, burning pain as his heart had ceased to exist in his chest, reduced to carbon and ash from the plasma.

“Fives? Hey, talk to me,” Rex said, placing a gloved hand on his shoulder.

“He needs to rest up a bit. Here, drink a little of this if you can,” Kix said, bringing a straw to Fives’ chapped lips. When Fives did as he was told and made a scrunchy, disgusted face at the bitter taste, Kix chuckled. “Yeah, that’s the reaction I expected. He’ll be fine, Captain.”

***

Hours later, Rex had still not left Fives’ side, explaining at length what had happened. They had figured it out after all.

“You made me and Kix dig further into your warning, and we found out the truth about the chips in our heads,” Rex explained, pointing to the healing scar just past his right temple. “We uncovered a whole plot by the chancellor to destroy the Jedi Order, and we would’ve been his tools if you hadn’t tipped us off. The Jedi managed to remove him from power, and he was promptly executed.”

Fives had slowly regained his voice, but he still sounded like he had been screaming over blaster fire on the battlefield for too long. “Still can’t believe I got shot,” he snickered hoarsely. “Can’t say I blame Fox for doing his job, though.”

Rex’s lips pressed into a tight line and twitched at the corners into a tense smile. “It wasn’t his fault, Fives. He doesn't remember doing it.”

“What do you mean?”

“That was Palpatine, too. He’d been manipulating Fox’s chip like a test dummy for years. It caused him to have memory blackouts. Cody found records of it in a journal Palpatine kept while they were sorting through the intel after he was executed,” Rex explained.

Fives grimaced. Even fresh out of a coma, his blood boiled because of all the injustices and inhumanities every clone had endured, all for Palpatine's war. They were human, and they deserved to be treated like humans from the beginning, given rights and choices—not manipulated like programmed droids. “That’s fucked up.”

The captain nodded, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his clasped hands. “Actually, Fox said he wants to come visit you—as long as it’s all right with you. Says he wants to apologize and hopes you can forgive him. He’s been pretty beaten up over it.”

“Nothing to forgive. He can come anytime and I’ll tell him myself,” Fives said with a genuine smile. He could not help the wave of grief that swept over him, though. None of this should have happened to any of them. “I just wanted to do my duty, what was right.” Fives’ said sorrowfully. His already hoarse voice cracked. “For Tup, too. He didn’t deserve to die the way he did.”

Rex nodded solemnly in agreement. “But you saved us all, and Tup’s sacrifice wasn’t in vain. With Palpatine dead, peace talks have started all over the galaxy with fracturing Seppie worlds. The CIS is falling apart, but there are a few holdouts that keep fighting. I’m headed to Anaxes with Cody tomorrow. They are proving difficult to counter. It’s like they know our moves before we make them.”

Fives gave a cheeky smile, one that still showed all of the inner fire he still possessed. “I wish I could be there with you, sir.”

Rex squeezed Fives’ atrophied bicep reassuringly. “Don’t worry, there will be plenty of fights left for you once you’re better. Kix might actually skin me alive if I try to sneak you out.” He stood and gathered his bucket, chuckling with his vod before making for the door.

Tell him. Fives thought. He should know. “Rex?” he asked, causing the captain to pause. “I… I know this sounds crazy, but while I was out, I saw Hevy.”

“Your batchmate? The one who died on Rishi Station?”

“Yeah, him. He told me that it wasn’t my time yet, and… he told me to listen for the echo. That’s when I realized… wherever I was, wherever Hevy came from, Echo wasn’t there.”

Rex looked skeptical, furrowing his brow and eyeing Fives curiously. He had his suspicions about an afterlife, but after spending enough time around the Jedi, he had long decided nothing was too farfetched. “You think Echo may still be alive?”

“I don’t expect you to believe me. I’m not sure I entirely believe it myself,” Fives sighed, shaking his head. “But I just have a gut feeling, you know? Just do me a favor and… listen for him, I guess.”

The captain offered him a confident smirk and a nod. “I’ll keep my ears open.”