#nala speaks | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

techs-goggles9902 · 10 months ago

Text

Two Souls Entwined

Part 4 (Eventual) Captain Rex x oc

A/N: HOLY SHIT GUYS IM BACK. I COOKED UP A STORM THIS TIME. These are my personal headcannons so if you don’t like them you’re welcome to leave 🤩 feel free to criticize I love criticism. Not beta read (as always) 😆

Word count: 2883 (went way overboard)

No warnings unless you’re scared of mean Kaminoans

REQUESTS ARE OPEN FOR FAN FICTION. QUEUE: 3

“Fierfek…”

“If you’re thinking of leaving, Kal, you know the deal. Su’cuy, Niva,” a voice says from beside the pair of stunned mandos.

Jango Fett stands before them, looking out the window as well.

“Jango, you said-”

“I said you’ll be training special ops troops. They just happen to be growing them.”

“What?”

“Clones…” Niva says before Jango can answer Kal. “Clones of Jango.”

“I knew you were the brains, ad’ika,” Jango chuckles, grinning at the girl.

“How the fierfek did you get involved?” Kal asks.

“A good five million and a little something special. Don’t look so surprised, you would do the same.” Jango looks between Kal and Niva before gesturing for them to follow him down the glossy corridor. Niva’s senses are overwhelmed as she looks between the toroids.

She blinks rapidly as thoughts spiral in her brain. They aren’t her own and they change as she looks between the towers. It’s like the fetuses are speaking to her. She pauses and looks at one tower specifically, squinting slightly as her gaze lands on a certain tube. The fetus floats in the translucent liquid, an umbilical cord abnormally curling around its leg.

“Niva, c’mon,” Kal shouts from down the hall. Niva hesitantly pulls her eyes away from the baby to jog back to her adoptive father.

If something was wrong, the Kaminii would know. They would know. The baby’s fine.

“You’re both dead now, don’t worry about it, Kal,” Jango says. Niva must’ve missed a bit since they’re both mid conversation about something.

Right… I’m dead.

“So, Ilippi threw your sorry shebs out?” Jango asks Kal, who’s expression softens slightly at the mention of his ex-wife.

“Yeah.”

“Told you, you should've married a Mando girl. Aruetiise don’t understand the mercenary way.”

Niva’s eyes narrow involuntarily as Jango brings up Ilippi. She refused to let Kal take their 8 year old sons into war with him, and soon, Kal’s family were no longer waiting for him to come back.

Didn’t let those kids go into battle, what an outsider! I turned out fine, Niva thinks.

“Ko Sai said something wasn’t right about the first batch of clones. They’ve been tested and I don’t think they’ll make the military grade, but I’ve told Orun Wa we’d look at them before… you know,” Jango explains.

“I don’t. Please elaborate,” Kal says.

“You’ll see.” Jango leads them down the hall, ushering them into a nearby room.

“Welcome, gentleman,” says Orun Wa in his peaceful monotone, not even addressing Niva, with a gentle tilt of his head. The Kaminoan has a bony fin going down the back of his head and to the nape of his neck.

“So the first batch have been confirmed as below the accepted standard?” Jango asks.

“These units are defective, I admit there was an error made while enhancing the genetic template.” Orun says, craning his slender neck to call out to someone in the corridor. “Bring them in.”

Niva turns as the door opens, glancing at Kal. He gives her a small nod, putting a hand on her shoulder. Six pairs of footsteps enter the room. Niva notices: the footsteps are close together, shorter strides instead of longer ones that would fit an adult.

Kal turns, his eyes widening as he looks down. Six identical boys - maybe four, maybe five at the most - walk into the room.

These are children, not soldiers… not droids… not units… little kids.

All had identical curly black hair and dark blue tunics and pants. Both Kal and Niva expected grown men, not…

“Kids… Kal’buir…” Niva can’t take her eyes away from the boys as she whispers to Kal. His hand leaves her shoulder as Jango inhales sharply. The boys huddle together, one of them holding his arms back like he’s shielding his brothers from Orun Wa, two boys clutching each other as they look at Kal with their big, dark, unblinking eyes.

Oh… He’s defending his brothers…

It rips at Niva’s heart, reminding her once again of her brothers. She figured out fast that Kaminoans didn’t tolerate anything that doesn’t meet their society’s principles of perfection. Maybe they don’t know that it’s often imperfection that gives humans an edge?

She hears Orun Wa, Jango, and Kal talk about the boys, but she can’t bring herself to tune in. Not that she understood most of what they said, anyway. Her Basic wasn’t as up to par as she’d like. She spoke with a slight accent, just barely there, pronouncing some letters and words differently than born Basic speakers.

Three of the boys look up at Niva with their big round eyes. Niva tries to smile and give them a wave, but all three flinch as her hand raises, making Niva immediately put her hand down.

One of the kids mimics her wave, his scared expression softening a bit. Niva grins at him and he bares his teeth in an attempt of a returning smile.

“What do you mean by reconditioned?” Kal says, drawing Niva back into the conversation. She obviously missed a lot.

“In this case, termination. These units cannot follow orders and are simply too unreliable, failing to meet the personality profile required,” Orun Wa replies casually.

“Terminated? They’re children!” Niva says, gesturing to the boys.

“Niv…” Kal mumbles, placing a hand on her shoulder again. Evil is supposed to be dark and menacing… not soft-spoken.

Then Kal registers what they meant by terminating. Within a second, his clenched fist is at Orun Wa’s chest. “You touch any of those kids, you gray freak, I’ll skin you alive and feed-”

“Steady,” Jango says, pulling Kal’s arm back.

“This is uncalled for, we only care for our customer’s satisfaction,” Orun Wa states. Niva watches with wide eyes, instinctively stepping towards the boys. Kal hears his heart thundering in his ears, yanking his arm out of Jango’s grip, stepping in front of the kids, who were silent. His eyes never leave Orun’s yellow irises.

Jango grips Kal’s shoulder hard enough to hurt. Don’t. Leave this to me.

“We could do with a few wild cards,” Jango carefully says, stepping between the Kaminoan and Kal. “It’s good to have a few surprises for the enemy, no? How old are they?”

“Two standard years.”

Niva’s jaw literally drops to the durasteel floor. The boys look older, though. Kal slowly puts his hand back to place his palm on the head of the defending boy’s head. But small fingers clasp onto his calloused hand instead. A helpless gesture. Kal swallows hard. Two years old.

“I’ll train ‘em. What’re their names?” He asks, looking between Jango and the Kaminoan.

“All units are numbered,” Orun Wa starts.

“We can… give them names… right?” Niva speaks up quietly. All three men look at her. Kal gives her a discreet hand signal: later.

“Anyway, our quality control designated them as Null class and-”

“Null? As in, no di’kutla use?” The veins in Kal’s neck have never been so prominent.

“Kal, leave this to me,” Jango breathes.

“No, they’re not units, Jango.” The little hand was holding on for dear life. Another boy comes up and wraps his little arms around Kal’s leg.

To Niva, the next minute goes by so fast. Before she can even blink, the boy thrusts his fingers into Kal’s boot, taking out the hidden blaster, tossing it to the boy who’s holding Kal’s hand.

The boy caught it cleanly and pointed it at Orun Wa, his little fingers just barely holding the blaster steady.

“Osik,” Jango sighs. “Put it down, kid.”

But the boy held the weapon at the perfect angle, left hand steadying the right, eyes focused on his target. Niva looks between the men, flabbergasted at how calm Jango is.

I couldn’t protect them… so… maybe I can protect these boys…

“Hey, bud,” Niva says, gently putting a hand on the boy’s arm as she kneels down beside him. “Put it down, yeah? No need for shooting anybody, kyr’ika. Give me the blaster.”

He doesn’t budge, barely blinking.

“You’re safe, lad,” Kal’s voice is soft as he squats down beside the kid, nodding to Niva, a silent indicator that he’s got this. “Come on… put it down. There’s a good lad. Now give me the blaster.”

The boy lowers his arms slowly, “Yes, sir…” He hands the blaster to Kal, who scoops him up.

“Good lad…” Kal lowers his voice to whisper in the boy’s ear. “Nicely done, too.”

A small hand tugs Niva’s, making her look down. Two pairs of big eyes stare up at her, one boy mimicking the wave she gave them earlier. Niva grins and waves back with her free hand. She crouches down so she’s eye level with the boys.

“Hi, I’m Niva,” she holds out her hand. The boys stare at it and then one of them shakes her hand with his little fingers.

“I’m N-7 and that’s N-10,” he says, meeting her gaze.

“Pleasure, boys. We’ll work on names later, yeah?” Niva keeps up her smile. N-10 looks at N-7, nudging him with his elbow. Niva can barely hear under his breath as he whispers to N-7, “I wanna shake her hand, let go.”

Niva lets out a small laugh, N-10 now holding her hand and meeting her gaze just like N-7. These were little boys but were so much like grown men. She’s aware of Kal and Jango speaking behind her.

“What kind of armor is that?” N-10 asks.

“It’s made out of beskar. It’s Mandalorian - do you know what that is?” Niva replies. Both boys shake their heads. “Well, I’ll teach you.”

“You talk funny,” N-7 chimes in.

“So do you, little man.” The boy’s eyes widen as he looks at N-10, who gives him the same wide eyed look. Niva can see N-7 mouth silent words to his brother, We talk funny? She smiles at the pair’s sudden realization.

“Ad’ika, let’s go.” Kal looks down at his daughter, the little marksman who pointed the blaster at Orun Wa on his hip. Niva nods and stands, her hand slipping from N-10’s much smaller one.

Niva doesn’t even need to help Kal take the six boys to their quarters. The tiny soldiers silently march behind the two Mandos.

The walk back to the room was eerily silent. Kal occasionally tried to make simple conversations with the boys, all attempts ending in one word answers from various kids.

Niva could hear the boy’s thoughts and felt their emotions. Not a clear thought, though, just a jumbled mess entangling with her own thoughts. Multiple voices spoke to her as she walked beside her father figure, some small and quiet, others prominent and deafening.

As the group walked down the sterile halls of Kamino they passed lines of other clones, all the same age as the Nulls, marching in the opposite direction. One of the boys caught her eye, his shaven head differentiating him from his brothers.

He caught her eye, his amber irises following her green ones as they passed each other. His thoughts melted into her own. The bridge of Niva’s nose pulsed with a deep ache, silencing her overcrowded mind.

“Ad’ika… Niva, are you okay?” Kal’s voice broke her trance.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine. Headache, ‘s all, Buir.”

“Mm… Have you ever finished that story of yours? Remember, the one you wanted to write before we met?”

”I remember. No, I haven’t done much with it since then. Should I?”

”Maybe. Just find something inspiring, like these little lads.” Kal reaches back to ruffle one of the boy’s hair.

“In… In what?”

“Something that gives you ideas, ad.”

The first night with the boys was… something. Niva hardly slept with two little four year old boys clinging to her all night, their little fists white knuckling her sleep shirt.

Kal settled on names for all six of them, taught them a bit of mando’a, filled their little bellies with uj cake, realized how traumatized they were, and knocked out with Ordo - N-11 - on his lap.

N-7 and 10 - now Mereel and Jaing - clung to Niva as if she were their lifeline. They held her pant legs tightly in their little fists when they walked down the corridors or just to the ‘fresher. Whenever she’d ruffle their mops of brown curls they’d look up at her with a confused look, not aware it was a sign of affection.

The first time she did so, Mereel looked terrified, his pools of amber going wide, like his eyes were taking over his little face.

What did the kaminiise do to you boys…

Niva eventually worked up enough courage to begin wandering the halls of Tipoca City in her spare time, finding training areas and barracks under construction for the millions of clones that will eventually call this sterile place home - or as close to home as possible.

On her fourth day of exploration, she saw the kaminioan. Of course there were kaminiise everywhere, it was Tipoca City, but this one was different. She sat on a tall bench - built specifically for kaminioans - overlooking one of the few functioning training areas.

Her skin, a sickly gray, shined in the light. Her large black eyes with blue-gray irises were focused on the cadets through the glass. Niva was intrigued by her, the way she looked at the cadets like they were roba up for slaughter.

Niva made a habit to walk past her on her walks since the kaminioan always sat there at the same time everyday. A couple days after first seeing her, she spoke up, not looking away from the cadets.

“Can I help you, Ms. Niva Veen?” She startled Niva, stopping her in her tracks.

“How do you know my name?”

“I read your file, Mandalorian. May I ask why you’re always walking about instead of training our troops?” She still didn’t look up.

“It’s my free time, I finished training one standard hour ago,” Niva says as she walks up to the kaminioan. “What’re you doing?”

“My job.”

“May I ask what your job is, then?”

“I am Chief Scientist Ko Sai’s assistant. I’m here to study the Generation Ones, seeing what should be improved and changed in later Generations,” the kaminoan answers in the same monotone Orun Wa used several days prior.

“What’s your name?”

“Nala Se.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Why do you always come here?” Nala Se asks with a sigh, seeming to be done with Niva.

“I’m-” Niva couldn’t think of the correct word. “You’re just always out here. You look sad sometimes.”

“I am allowed to feel emotions sometimes, Niva Veen.”

Niva cocks her head. “I’m good at reading people. You seem more than sad, like you’re focused on something important to you, something to prove to someone.”

Nala Se finally looks away from the cadets, her massive eyes meeting Niva’s. “You’re correct, actually.” She leans back slightly and pauses, her eyes widening as she realizes something. “I need a trainer. Not for myself, but for… special ops troopers. You seem qualified, for a sixteen year old.”

“I can train troops. I know what I’m doing,” Niva replies, narrowing her eyes slightly. Nala Se hums an acknowledgement, standing and turning her back to the girl.

“Follow me, then,” she says.

The private tubing system fascinated Niva, her face nearly pressed to the glass as she zoomed past the water and its inhabitants.

“Have you never seen an ocean before? It really isn’t that intriguing,” Nala Se says.

“Not this close…” Niva replies as she unfocuses her eyes to see the water streaming past her.

The lab was just as sterile as the rest of Kamino, but the dimness was a mixture of soothing and eerie. They entered through the floor, directly in the center of the lab.

“You remember how the six other Null ARCs were disposed of?” Nala Se asks Niva.

“Yes…” Where is this going?

“I saved them. Orun Wa and Ko Sai didn’t think they’d last in combat, you see. One was smaller than the rest, one stockier, two very thin, one a female. The female and one of the lankier cadets had poor eyesight compared to the average clone,” Nala Se explains.

She walks to a panel on the wall, opening a hidden door. A hidden door in a hidden lab. What else lies in these walls? She continues, “I was tasked with the extermination of those six. Yes, I directly disobeyed orders, but once I show the higher ups, I’ll be rewarded. I will surpass Ko Sai to become the next Chief Scientist.”

Niva watches as the hidden door leads to a brighter corridor. The hallway leads to another door, small noises can be heard from behind the transparisteel.

“CT-9903 and the female would’ve never lasted. I’ve done all I could to preserve their eyesight but not much can be done. Both require glasses. In addition, I modified the entirety of the batch so they can’t be traced back to the Nulls.”

“Wait,” Niva says, “CT? Not ARC?”

The door at the end of the hidden hallway behind the hidden door in the hidden lab opens to reveal six clones, the same age as the Nulls, sitting on their respective six bunks, dwarfing them.

“Clone Force 99, this is Niva Veen. She will be continuing your training from now on.”

Mando’a used:

Kaminii means kaminoan (the se at the end of certain scenes is just plural as in kaminoans)

Fierfek is just some random curse I think

Aruetiise means traitor

Shebs means your rear

Ad’ika is a term of affection for a kid (ad means the same)

Buir is father/mother (no gender in Mando’a)

Taglist: @fionajames @sevdidntdie @dangraccoon @hellhound5925 @skellymom @angie-is-silly (why did you change your fucking name dude 😭 you gave me a stroke trying to find you)

LMK IF YOU WANNA HOP ON OR OFF THE TAGLIST

18 notes · View notes