"Oh-Seven? If you're harassing the standards again, ner vod, I'm going to cut you up, serve you for dinner, and tell everyone you're tatsushi."
Prime poked his head into the 'freshers, but still didn't see his brother. He folded his arms and cussed in Mando'a. Oh-Seven had been missing since just after the morning's training exercise. Prime wouldn't have bothered to search, but Oh-Seven had missed lunch. He was a seven year old boy who was aging twice as fast, just hit puberty, and spent the past six years of his life in combat training. If he missed lunch, it must be serious.
Prime shut the door to the 'freshers and returned to his quarters. He was hoping Oh-Seven was hiding under the covers again, building some wildly destructive weapon out of old datachips. But after checking all four bunks, he was still nowhere to be found. Prime cussed again and commed Slicer to see if he'd had any luck yet.
"Was he in the mess?" Prime asked.
Slicer seemed to be between mouthfuls. "He's not in the uj cake."
Prime rolled his eyes and switched off the comm. His only consolation was that Slicer had to mature someday.
He decided to go find Ma'am to see if maybe she'd cooked him and eaten him yet. He got lost a few times in the stark white halls that still confused him even after walking them for seven years. As he was turning around to retrace his steps, something caught his attention. An air vent grating was laying on the floor in front of the vent opening. It looked like it had been deliberately moved. Prime raised an eyebrow, then got down on his hands and knees and crawled inside the vent. It was dusty inside, and it smelled, but since Prime hadn't hit his growth spurt yet, it wasn't a tight squeeze. There were other hand prints and scuffles in the dust, indicating another clone had been in here recently. Prime followed the trail until he found a clone with his nose pressed against a grating.
"Oh-Seven? What are you doing?"
"Lurking."
Prime cocked his head and sat down, tired of hunting all over Kamino for his brother. "Lurking? Why?"
"Because it's fun," Oh-Seven answered as if it were obvious.
"So you're just going to sit there and watch people go by?" Prime was trying to figure out what was fun about that.
"Shh!" Oh-Seven hissed. His shoulders tensed as he leaned on the grate a little more.
"What are you--"
Prime never got his answer. Oh-Seven shot out of the vent, pushing the grate out in front of him, pounced on a passing Taun We, and bit her in the ankle. Taun We shrieked, which took Prime by surprise. He'd never seen a Kaminoan show that much emotion before. He decided it would be wise to stay hidden.
Taun We leaned down and hauled Oh-Seven up by his ear.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!" Oh-Seven shouted, trying to bat the snaky grey arm away. "Let go!"
Taun We looked infuriated. "Who are you?" she demanded. "State your number!"
"RC-6507!" he squeaked, his changing voice cracking.
"What do you think you were doing?"
"Lurking! What do you think? Are all you tatsushise this thick?"
Taun We let out an exasperated grunt and started to haul Oh-Seven off down the hall, still holding his ear. Prime was about to jump out and help when Ma'am came into his field of vision, stepping in front of Taun We and blocking her path. Ma'am studied Oh-Seven.
"Got this Aiwha-bait right where you want her, don't you?" she said.
Oh-Seven grinned and saluted, then winced as Taun We yanked on his ear again.
Ma'am addressed Taun We, clearly holding her in contempt. "Where are you taking my soldier?"
"He needs to be properly disciplined!" Taun We said, trying to regain her icy mask. "He's always been trouble, and is not fit for a commando team. He'll be reassigned, and retrained to show the proper respect."
Oh-Seven squirmed, trying desperately to get out of the iron grip. "No! No, don't make me a standard!" he screeched, as if Taun We were threatening to remove both his arms.
Ma'am folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. "He's under my command. I'll take care of him." Her tone said there would be no negotiation, but that didn't stop Taun We from trying.
"He's had far too many problems, and if he can't be taught the proper respect, he'll have to be recon--"
Prime had never seen anyone drop a Kaminoan so fast. Before he could blink, Ma'am had shot forward and pinned Taun We to the ground, her knee shoved into the base of the Kaminoan's spine. Taun We squeaked as she felt the cold metal of Ma'am's beskad against her neck.
"Children learn by example, di'kut. How about you teach him respect by showing him respect and stop treating him like a number?"
Taun We couldn't help but agree. Ma'am quickly let her up and roughly aimed a kick at the Kaminoan's shebs to help her down the hall. Taun We beat a hasty retreat.
Oh-Seven stood wincing and rubbing his ear. Prime finally decided it was safe to come out. Ma'am didn't seem surprised to see a clone crawling out of the air vent. Her attention was focused on Oh-Seven.
"What were you up to this time, ad'ika?" she asked, arms still folded, not the least bit phased from taking down a two meter tall Kaminoan.
"Just lurking!" Oh-Seven insisted, tired of repeating himself.
Prime spoke up. "He jumped out of the vent and bit Taun We in the ankle."
Ma'am paused for a beat, then broke out in roaring laughter. "You bit her? Ori'mirdala, ad'ika! Oya!" She reached down and ruffled Oh-Seven's hair.
"I'm not in trouble, then?"
"Of course not! Just next time, try not to get caught. Or tell them Vau told you to do it."
Oh-Seven grinned, pleased he could make Ma'am proud.
Ma'am started to walk away down the hall. "They will expect me to punish you, though, so you and Prime can do my laundry for the next week. Careful with my flightsuit, don't touch my beskar'gam, and not too much fabric softener."
Oh-Seven blinked. This was certainly different than he expected. Prime reached over and thwacked him on the head.
"Nice going, Lurk," he scolded.
NOTE: I fixed the bit in the middle of the story where I accidentally called him "Lurk" before he was supposed to be. Oops! My bad.