Review answers:
Blaze1992: 5000% chance of other universe items bleeding through, trust me.
Thinker90: This is more than just a Crackfic, this is me airing my grievances about the Star Wars movies and how the Clone Wars series could be better. I'll still take your advice about other SI reviews though. Keep in mind that this is my first real story, so there will be some things that don't make sense. It's me trying to figure out what works with what I'm trying to do. I've rewritten this entire chapter about 14 times to make sure I'm not making a Gary Stu.
ThelonewolfNT: I did rush the first chapter. It was an impulse decision on my part and I probably should have fleshed out the story a bit more before posting, but whatever. It's out now, what can you do. As for confusion, this IS my first fic, so you might need to bear with me.
Disclaimer: I only own the OCs. Star Wars is out of my budget range.
Ch. 2
Joseph's Journal entry 1- December 8, 2016 (Unknown month, day, 32 BBY):
What the fuck has my life become? A terrorist attack on my school, my death, and my subsequent stranding in the Star Wars Universe. C'est la vie, such is life. Or, I guess now it's c'est ma vie, such is my life.
So, here's apparently what happened after I died in the other world. Per what the Kaminoans told me, I simply showed up in the sky over Tipoca city and started a freefall straight towards the water. After fishing me out, they brought me to a medical bay. A few days went by and my recovery is still going well. They found a backpack with some of my personal items from an Aiwha near my splashdown site. Which was weird because I didn't even bring my iPad or Xbox to school.
It's been 2 months since then. I've come to terms with the fact that I died in my original universe. I'll be honest though, I considered jumping from a railing into the ocean once or twice.
Okay, boring stuff now. Per the Holonet, I arrived only five days after the end of the Naboo Blockade. That means that I'm a little late to stop the death of Master Sifo-Dyas. Since then, I've offered to lend my DNA for the clone army, and I've made a few friends of the Kaminoans.
Although, I think some of them still don't like me very much…...
"So," I start, "Tell me again, WHY do you think I need this operation?" I'm laying down on the oval bed in the operating theatre, a rather old looking Kaminoan standing over a tray of surgical tools. He turns around, stares at a medical droid and tells it, "Make sure the serum is still viable." He turns to me, "When we extracted DNA from you, we noticed many discrepancies that must be fixed for future clone extractions. Your bone density isn't up to where it would be for many normal humans, your reliance on prescription glass to fix your vision, and many other flaws that would normally be fatal to any other human."
Wow, I guess vanilla humans in the Star Wars universe are closer to super soldiers. Makes sense with how many times I've seen clones make leaps only Jedi could make. I retort sarcastically, "Well excuse me if my own Universe's Vanilla Humans are so brittle."
The old Kaminoan just grunts and turns to his terminal. "We're going to begin these procedures with augmenting your nervous system," he says with a yawn that even an Anaconda would gawk at. "This will be the most dangerous procedure, so I want you to confirm that this is something you want."
I raise my head up to look at the back of his head. "REALLY? YOU CHOOSE TO WAIT UNTIL THE RESTRAINTS ARE ON ME BEFORE YOU ASK THAT? FUCK YOU MAN!"
"I will take that as a yes." The old guy then turns to put a breathing mask over my face. Already I can feel my body start to tense up. As my head begins to throb only one thought enters my head. "OH, FUCK THAT HURTS! OOOWWWWWWWWWWWWW! OH GOD! WHY DOES IT HURT SO FUCKING MUCH?! UNCONSCIOUSNESS PLEASE TAKE ME AWAY FROM THIS PLACE!" My vision begins to darken. Thank you, Unconsciousness, never again will I…ever take you…for…. granted….
Journal entry 2 - December 29, 2016 (Still unknown day and month, 32 BBY)
That was the worst 3 weeks of my new life. Even after I woke up, I still had to deal with phantom pains and nerves misfiring every so often. I almost slapped myself in the face trying to take my glasses off one night, and shaving is a whole 'nother deal.
Although, I can't exactly argue with the results. Before, I could barely catch a baseball, even with a glove, but now? My reflexes are freaking amazing, my hand-eye coordination is so much more accurate, and I think I even feel the air pressure of a Data pad flying at me! Not sure about that last one, but I digress.
My clones are developing well. Already I can see the clones in row 1138 starting to kick. It's kind of weird to see it happen in real time. I'm expecting by March to have a couple of clones of myself learning how to read and write. I'm so excited!
Journal entry 13 – May 25, 30 BBY
Happy Birthday, Lando Calrissian!
As I'm typing these words, Jedi Knight Vergere has just made first contact with the Yuuzhan Vong. Zonama Sekot, the living planet, is forced to play host to these organic Borg wannabes. I can't make light of them because they will cause the deaths of Trillions in the galaxy.
On a more depressing note, Derell We, the old Kaminoan who oversaw my procedures, passed away yesterday. The others tell me it's natural causes, but I remain skeptical. I didn't get to know him very well, but myself and all the clones of Tau company wish him well on his journey to the afterlife.
Oh, Tau company, almost forgot. Since they've reached the 'optimal stage for learning', I'm now able to teach them the things I want them to know….
"So, in conclusion, ALWAYS remember the 50-50-90 rule. If there's a 50% chance of being right, 90% of the time it'll blow up in your face." I look through the glass at my pre-recorded hologram teaching the clones. As it turns out, I'm an amazing teacher, even when I'm not there in person. "Now," the hologram starts again, "extra credit work is to read through Sun Tzu's 'The Art of War' twice before tomorrow. Report to Alor'ad Skirata for Close Quarters Combat. Dismissed."
As the hologram of me powers down, I notice some of my clones waving at me. I smile and wave back. Already 4 years old physically and they're already learning how to kill a man with a spork. A tear comes to my eye. They grow up so fast.
It's so weird, seeing a younger version of yourself, multiplied by three thousand. I shake off the feeling and continue my walk down the corridor to my augment procedure. I must admit, I'm a little bit wary of who could possibly take over for Derell We, but I need these augments if I want to survive. Today I'm having my vision refocused to 20-20. NO MORE GLASSES!
I shake myself from my inner thoughts as I reach a split in the hall. Down the left hall, I see Jango and baby Boba. I can't believe it's been 2 years since I first met Jango in these halls. I make my way toward him and nod as I pass him, receiving a nod back. We have a bit of a mutual respect, I stay out of his way and he doesn't disintegrate me. It's not the best system but it works.
I stop outside the third lab door and look back just in time to see Jango vanish through the elevator. A sinister smile comes to my face as I notice the security droids make their pass through the other hall. Quickly, I make my way through the lab door.
Once inside I make my way to the main terminal. I quickly pull up my English-to-Aurebesh cheat-sheet and begin searching through the current projects. "Let's see here…. ah, here it is. Order 66." Now to make my change. I begin typing. Order 66-b: Order 66 can only be issued by the Supreme Chancellor with a unanimous vote from the Republic Senate. If the Senate is abolished, the electoral college must make the unanimous vote. That ought to be enough…... wait. I scroll back up the list. Order 37. It dealt with using many civilian hostages to force the capture of an individual. It involved suppressing local civilian populations, including mass civilian arrests and civic lockdowns, and then issuing an ultimatum: if the local populace does not turn over said individual, all the arrestees will be executed. Let's change that. Order 37-b: Order 37 cannot be issued unless with a unanimous vote by the Republic Senate. Now I'm done.
I turn to the door and just walk out. All this elaborate planning and I just walk out the door. If I get caught I'll just brush it off by saying I've been looking for a bathroom. It works for Michael Weston, why wouldn't it work for me?
I quickly, yet casually, rush down the corridor towards the operation theatre. I reach the door and scan a data card with my information on it, letting whoever's inside know that I'm here. Now to make a good first impression.
As I walk into the room, I have the biggest grin on my face. "Hello!" I shout, "My name is Lab Rat, where's the cheese at?" I hear a nervous chuckle from the only living thing in the room. She's a tall Kaminoan, about 2.11 meters tall. Like all Kaminoans, she has white skin and black sclera, but unlike other Kaminoans her eyes were the brightest of blue I've ever seen. As with all female Kaminoans, she has the head crescent, but this one holds a bead chain that loosely loops around her long neck and connects to her collarbone.
I walk over to her and take a seat. Time to make a new friend.
(1 Hour later…)
"And then, after the alien microbes detach from the ship, the guy who suppresses his emotions says the best line in the series. 'It appears we have lost our sex appeal Captain'." The small room explodes with laughter from two sources. My slightly subdued chuckles, and her outright, gut busting laugh echo in the small room.
"Oh… I needed that," she sighs after her laugh finally ends.
"Yeah… say when's the Doctor gonna show up?" I ask her with a glance at my watch. After basically summarizing the first two seasons of Star Trek: Voyager, most people could understand my impatience.
"Were you in need of some medical assistance?" she asks innocently enough.
"Well…yeah. I'm here for my augment procedure…" Realization. Within a second I run the gauntlet of surprise, disbelief, back to surprise, and then humor. I remember a riddle Dad told me years ago. 'a father and son are in a horrible car crash that kills the dad. The son is rushed to the hospital; just as he's about to go under the knife, the surgeon says, "I can't operate—that boy is my son!"' the answer is that the surgeon is the kid's mother. It's an old riddle to reveal how gender biased a person can be. I was so sure I'd get another grouchy old man to oversee me.
"I am such an idiot." I lay my head on the table as she begins to laugh. "You're the one I'm here to see, aren't you?"
"Yes," she says when her giggles subside, "I am Dr. Kala Nu, and I will be taking care of your augmentation procedures. If you'll take a seat, we can begin the operation." She gestures to a very comfortable looking chair. I remove my glasses and take a seat, leaning my head back.
Journal entry 14 – June 19, 30 BBY
25 days now and I'm just now starting to regain blurry images in my eye sight. Apparently, something went way wrong with the procedure. The focusing crystal was cracked and the laser widened because of it. My vision was fixed completely, but I'm stuck without sight for a while. That hasn't interrupted my work though.
Kala is running tests to see how the crystal broke, and if It was a natural break…. or not. I'm not sure why someone would sabotage me, but I'll find out. Or maybe I'll get lucky and they'll reveal themselves before Episode 2 starts.
About Kala Nu, my new doctor, Tau company have really taken a liking to her. Kind of like the big sister of the team. They can always rely on her to patch them up. Plus, she gets us the good drugs…. Computer pause.
An electronic warble from my IPad confirms the order as I pause in my pacing. "Delete last sentence." I say, turning to look in the mirror. Even if it's a blurry smudge, my reflection doesn't look the way it did in the last two years. Less High schooler, more William Riker. I remove my shirt and place a hand on my developing six-pack. It's astonishing how Mandolorian basic training can do that in just two years.
On a completely unrelated note: FUCK YOU JANGO YOU SADISTIC FUCK! SWIMMING IN THE FREEZING COLD OCEAN ALL AROUND TIPOCA CITY WHILE YOU'RE SHOOTING AT ME?! FUCK YOU!
I stand there for about a minute before taking up the robe on the bed. I freeze when a chime at the door sounds. "Computer, what's the time?"
"The time is currently 11:38 P.M." my IPad says.
"Well then who could that possibly be?"
"Insufficient data to- "
"Computer, disregard question." I say quickly. I really need to install a program for detecting rhetoric and sarcasm.
I hit the button to open the door and instantly recognize the shock of orange hair in the doorway. "Rusty," I say in confusion, "What are you doing here?"
"I couldn't sleep Joe." WOW. I didn't know someone could look that scared. His bright blue eyes seemed duller than normal, almost as if despair had taken up residence in his face.
"Seems to me it's more than just a case of sudden insomnia. Well, come on in."
He walks through the door way and takes a seat on my bed. I close the door and lean against the window, the soft patter of rain on the glass the only break from the awkward silence.
"So," I finally ask, "What's on your mind?"
Rusty begins to fidget a bit. "I…. I'm worried about this war we're being trained for. About whether I'm gonna survive."
My face adopts a look of utter dumbfounded-ness. "Of course, you'll survive, why wouldn't you?"
I hear subtle cracks from his hands as he clenches them harder. "That just brings up further worries!" he yells.
Oh…. Ooooohh. That's what's going on here. "You're scared of how you'll adapt to peace. How can you go back to who you were when all you've ever known was being a soldier? Am I anywhere in the ballpark?"
Rusty doesn't say anything, he just looks at the floor. I nod to myself and walk over and sit down next to him.
"Thought so." I dig through my memories to try and ease his mind. "Most of the time, soldiers don't cope well with peace. It's hard, going from a place where anywhere you look is death to a place where no one wants you dead. So many things could set you back into that soldier mindset. But the thing is, you haven't experienced war just yet. This is still a time of peace. You have nothing to worry about yet. If a normal life isn't something I can give to you all after war, then I have an alternative." I reach out and place my hand on his shoulder. "But until then, let me worry about the future, 'kay?"
I can see the pressure on Rusty lift away as he straightens up. That seems to have done the trick. Not bad for my first Reasons You're Awesome speech.
The knock on the door makes us both jolt up in surprise. We share a brief look before I motion with my head at the pistol under my pillow. What? Never hurts to be prepared.
"Who is it?" I yell. Meanwhile, Rusty has taken up cover behind the bed, pistol aimed at the door.
"It's Lucky, Joe. Can we talk?" Lucky, his name is well earned. His cloning tank suffered a breach in the early stages of his fetal development, but by some crazy 'luck' he managed to survive. A side-effect of that is his short stature, even for a physical 4-year-old kid.
"Sure Lucky, come in." I wave off Rusty and hear him put the gun back under my pillow.
The door slides open to reveal to me the blurry form of Lucky. I can make out his bright blond hair and if I squint enough I can see his amber eyes, looking just as scared as Rusty's were.
The door slides shut behind him and those eyes of fear change to ones of shock at seeing Rusty in the room. "Rusty?" he says, "What are you doing here?"
"He's here for probably the same reason you are, sudden onset of insomnia caused by worries about the future." I can't contain the sarcasm in my voice. Lucky's surprised face was all I needed. "I'll tell you the same thing I told Rusty, don't worry about the future. I've got you."
As Lucky begins to smile, there's another knock at the door. I notice Rusty grabbing the gun again and Lucky opening the front closet and hiding in it. They'll be getting an A+ in situational awareness and response time. I walk to the door and press myself against the wall on the receding side, opposite Lucky's hiding space.
I hit the button and the door slides open. Standing there, congregated to the left, are five more clones. As I open my mouth to ask why they're here, another clone walks up from the left. Curious, I stick my head out the way he came from. Even with poor vision, I can't dispute the uneven march of so many small kids, all of whom, I'm guessing, have the same question. My face slowly adopts the stare of a silent guardian, angered that someone would endanger his ward.
Right, that tears it. I pull myself back into my room, grab my IPad and shirt, and rush outside. Guess I'm not gonna sleep tonight.
"Rusty, Lucky. Meet me in Hangar 29, and wake up the rest of Tau Company." I say as I throw on my shirt.
"Why?" Rusty asks.
I turn back around to look at him and smile. "Because it's time for you to be kids, not soldiers."
(1 Hour Later)
"Well men, since it seems like none of us are gonna be getting sleep tonight, I thought we'd watch something that doesn't involve training you for war." Hangar 29 was almost packed with every clone in my company, most of them rubbing sleep out of their eyes or yawning. A few of them were standing at attention while I was plugging in my IPad to a projector droid.
"Is it any good?" asks Lucky.
"Are you kidding? Fencing. Fighting. Torture. Revenge. Giants. Monsters. Chases. Escapes. True love. Miracles." I'm overselling, but I don't care. "Computer, load up The Princess Bride."
As the IPad loads up the movie, I take to stacking some crates to form a chair and sit down. Everyone else has at this point, either taken a seat on the floor or have found an innovative way to get themselves comfortable. The projector droid projects an image onto the far wall, serving as our screen tonight. As the first parts of the movie open on the old baseball videogame, I quickly look around to see that everyone is watching, mostly intrigued.
The old man on the screen puts on his glasses and opens the book. "The Princess Bride, by S. Morgenstern. Chapter One. Buttercup was raised on a small farm in the country of Florin."
Yeah. My life RULES!
(3 weeks later)
My life SUCKS!
I'm currently laying my head on a conference table, listening to so many sales pitches, BORED OUT OF MY GOURD!
"-twelve quad turbolaser cannons, and a crew compliment of 700… Mr. Joseph, am I boring you?" This motherfucker.
"YES! YOU ARE BORING ME! WE'VE ALREADY DECIDED ON THE ACCLAMATOR-CLASS ASSAULT SHIP! You're beating a dead horse like it owes you money. We get it, this ship is awesome." My non-relevant gods, this guy doesn't get the point. I look up at him and stare straight in his eyes. "And since we've chosen this ship class, all you've been doing is repeat your damn sales pitch over and over and over. Now sit down, cause it's my turn."
The moron, suddenly very quiet, skittishly slinks toward a chair and sits down. At this point, I've stood up and made my way towards the stand. I plug in my IPad and look up at the assembled scientists.
"Ladies, Gentleman and variations thereupon. I would like to take this time to introduce- "I hit an app on the IPad and a hologram of what looks like the human muscular system below the neck pops up. "The M-R Weave!"
"Based around two of the greatest super-soldier aid systems ever conceived, the M-R Weave blends perfectly a muscle enhancement as well as a reflex boost. Blaster fire, dodge able. A maximum of 50 Tons, flip able. Top running speed of 95 kph with minor side-effects." Two of the scientists seemed to perk up in interest.
I tap my IPad screen and another image pops into being. In Aurebesh above it states 'UNSC Everest'. "This is a ship I wish to commission as a flagship. The image you see before you is of a 1:15000th scale." About half of the scientists and engineers at the table were taken aback by that. Even at that scale, the image still dwarfed the table. "The most prominent feature is the Magnetic Accelerator Cannon the ship is designed around. This cannon could put a crater the size of Tipoca city on a planet, including depth." I pause to let them pick their jaws up from the floor.
"Is this all you have to offer us?" the Jackass starts, "Two, miniscule things?"
"OBVIOUSLY, I'm not done yet, ASS!" I absently wonder if I would be justified in killing him in front of everyone here?
"Computer," I say, the lights seeming to dim ominously, "Display Project: MG REX." The image that pops up on the holotable shows a BEAST of a two-legged walker, armed with a massive black gun on the right with its center cut out. On the notes bubble near it, it simply says 'Introduce Railgun Physics'. On the left was a radar dish, the notes naming this 'Ray dome'.
Later, the RHE representative would tell me that my eyes took on a sickly yellow-red hue after the image showed up. If my clones came out on top, I wouldn't care if my eyes turned bright pink. They will be the best at what they do. No matter what.
A/N: The part about the future of Tau company was tougher to write than I thought. Every sentence I wrote down seemed to be either offensive in my mind or just plain ignorant.
I have no set schedule yet. This story isn't progressing in a line, it's expanding in random places and I'm trying to piece them together.
Also, please keep in mind, that I'm doing this by my lonesome. That's why it's important for you to review. Tell me if I'm getting things wrong, tell me how you would have done something, hell if you just want to tell me something I didn't know about the expanded universe or legends universe, GO FOR IT! All are applicable in this story.