Just for Kix
Disclaimer:I do not own the rights to Star Wars: The Clone Wars or any related titles, characters, plots, settings, etc. These rights are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Dave Filoni, the Walt Disney Company, and their various publishers and distributors. I own only the original elements of this story, the writing and publishing of which earn me no money.
Vent
"Hey, look who finally decided to show up!" a friendly voice called out as Kix walked into the GAR's main medbay.
"Curl, you di'kut, there's no one else here," Kix complained, though the grin on his face took the sting out of the insult he tossed to his fellow medic.
"Yeah, but the others are on their way," Curl said defensively, gripping Kix's forearm in greeting. Kix squeezed Curl's 104th-gray vambrace in return before helping to gather some of the medbay's most comfortable chairs.
'The others' were the other medics of various battalions. Every few months, the GAR brought some of the older medics back to Coruscant to be recertified. This class was going to be great or terrible, Kix hadn't decided. With some of the brothers he heard were scheduled to be here, it could go either way, but it was sure to be memorable.
Still, it would be good to see everyone again. They had decided to meet here as soon as everyone's transports arrived. Classes didn't start until the next morning, but everyone needed a chance to complain about the idiots they were in charge of.
"Are all the transports here?" Kix asked.
Curl started to say something, but he was cut off by heavy footsteps approaching the medbay door. A large trooper stepped in, his sheer size and the weight of his heavy muscle making the floor reverberate a little with every step. His armor, altered to fit his increased muscle mass, was painted with swirls of 327th yellow.
When he caught sight of them, he bobbed his head and removed his helmet. "Kix, Curl," he said in greeting, his low voice rumbling through the room like thunder.
"Limit," Kix returned.
"Well, if it isn't the most popular medic in the GAR," Curl joked, beaming at the man. "Heard you couldn't keep the females away last time you were at 79's, vod."
Limit's face flushed. "Stop it, Cu- Curl. I get enough of that from my- my own men."
"Leave him alone," Kix chided, shoving at Curl's shoulder. "Keep it up and I'll tell Wolffe you were bullying Limit."
Curl was irreverent, but Kix thought that threatening to go to his commanding officer would make him back off - especially with a CO as ill-tempered as Wolffe. Curl seemed unphased, however.
"Oh, yeah?" Curl challenged. "Maybe I'll tell him you were messing with Limit. He's still mad at you for joking about his cybernetic eye."
"You j-joked about Commander Wolffe's eye?" Limit asked, looking shocked and a bit horrified.
Kix felt an uncharacteristic surge of guilt. Limit was everyone's favorite brother. Disappointing him was like hitting a youngling.
"You didn't have to see how bad it was, Limit!" he defended. "I was scraping black goo out of it. He's lucky it didn't catch fire, and Curl is lucky he didn't have to deal with it!"
"Yeah, but I had to treat your general that one time," Curl tossed back.
"And I'm sure it was terrible for you," Kix said dryly.
The one time General Skywalker had been injured and admitted he needed a medic, Curl had been the one to treat him. Kix had spent his entire career dragging his general into the medbay for every injury, but Skywalker came and asked Curl to all but perform a battlefield surgery!
Curl had been insufferable after that.
"You know better than to make fun of someone who came to you- to you for treatment, Kix," Limit told him, deep voice saddened.
"Yeah, Kix," Curl gloated, beaming from behind Limit's impossibly broad shoulder.
"Come over here, Curl," Kix invited. "I want to show you this new method of spinal adjustment I learned. Only a mild chance of paralysis."
The door opened once again, this time admitting a trooper who wore Coruscant Guard crimson even out of uniform.
"Wow, Ink," Curl commented. "Didn't even bother to dress up, huh?"
"Got off duty an hour ago," Ink grunted. "Didn't want to be in my armor longer than I had to."
True enough, the trooper wore a crimson shirt with sleeves that barely reached his elbows. Wearing civvies to a medic meeting, even one that wasn't GAR-official, was a bold move. Everyone's civilian clothing was open to mocking, and Ink was no exception.
Of course, Curl didn't limit himself to Ink's clothing.
"What happened to your arms, vod?" he asked, seeming to fight a grin.
Ink was known among troopers for his tattoos. Intricate, Mandalorian-inspired patterns traced along the entirety of his back, shoulders, and arms. Ink had been expanding the maze of tattoos lately, and they had now spread down his forearms almost to his wrists. Of course, Curl was probably talking about the spots where messy splotches of color filled the precise outlines of the pattern.
At Curl's question, Ink glanced down at his forearms and shrugged. "The Guard had to investigate a fire on one of the lower levels. There were some younglings there."
He said it like it was a full explanation and - from him - it was. Ink melted around younglings of every species, despite how much he scared their parents.
Kix hid a smile of his own. "How's life with the Corrie Guard treating you?"
"He shou-should be the one doing the treating," Limit joked.
"Hilarious," Ink deadpanned. "Guard life is good. Treated a sprained ankle last week. Di'kut jumped down a level and a half without a jetpack."
"Hey, you know the rules," Curl objected. "No med talk until everyone is here."
"Who are we waiting on?" Kix asked.
"Heeeeeyyyyyyyy!" Shatter cheered, bursting through the door like he had been waiting for an introduction. Sprain followed close behind, throwing his arms outward like he was accepting applause.
"You didn't start without us, did you?" Sprain asked when Shatter finally paused to breathe.
"Just a short story about Wolffe," Limit admitted, looking guilty. "Sorry."
"Nothing to apologize for, Limit," Shatter forgave easily, gripping Limit's forearm in a quick warrior's greeting.
"Besides, we've all heard about Wolffe's eye," Sprain added. "Kix has been complaining about it for months."
"Was I supposed to stop?" Kix asked, mildly affronted. "I can still smell it!"
"Gross," Ink contributed.
"Gross? I'm gonna assume you're talking about that sad excuse for civvies," Shatter jabbed. "I mean, I wasn't gonna say anything, but it looks like something a Weequay would wear."
Ink snorted. "At least they didn't run out of dye for my shirt like they did with your hair."
Everyone else in the room chuckled at that - except Sprain, who had a single streak of dye up the back of his hair to match his brother. Shatter's was 212th gold, of course, while Sprain's was 41st Elite Corps green.
"I would be more offended by that if we weren't talking to the unanimously-voted best medic in the GAR," Sprain said, grinning.
"Is it true you actually got Fox to sleep more than five hours straight?" Shatter asked.
Kix perked up. This was new information… Fox was infamous for his lack of regular sleep, and infamously stubborn when it came to setting professional limits for sake of his health.
Ink leaned back in his chair and crossed his color-swatched arms over his chest. "I can neither confirm nor deny that story. Medic-patient privilege."
"C'mon, Ink," Curl wheedled. "No one's ever gotten Fox to sleep that long, especially not an almost-shiny like you."
Ink shot a glare in Curl's direction.
"However you d-did it, good job," Limit congratulated sincerely. "The Commander needs to take better care of- care of himself."
"We're here to learn new stuff to use on the field, right?" Kix mused slowly. "Well, I have a general who likes to avoid sleep. Can you give me some tips, Ink?"
Curl snorted. "Maybe another medic just has to ask."
Sprain, having heard the Curl-treating-Skywalker story before, just elbowed Curl. "Yeah, Ink, help Kix out. Of course, I don't need any help at all, since General Unduli believes in living a life of balance..."
"Shut up, Sprain," Shatter told his brother. "We get it; your general actually takes care of herself. Ink, if the circles under Kenobi's eyes get any darker, I'm going to get called in for dereliction of duty. Help a vod avoid a court-martial, would you?"
Ink sighed. "I can't be specific, but… did you know that certain Coruscant businesses will package unflavored protein powder in stim packages?"
Shouts of laughter greeted his carefully worded advice.
"Is that ethical?" Limit asked, sounding a bit troubled by the idea of deceiving a patient.
With a shrug, Ink told him, "More ethical than letting the Head Commander catch a plasma bolt in his shebs because he's too tired to function when his overlapping stims wear off."
Limit still looked doubtful, but Kix made a mental note of the trick. The general and commander didn't use stims except in dire circumstances - claiming that the Force sustained them - but the captain was known to be more reliant on non-sleep methods than Kix would prefer. And don't even get him started on Fives and Echo. When the ARCs were attached to the 501st, Kix could feel his heart working overtime.
"Speaking of catching a bolt, is it true you threatened to shoot one of your troopers, Curl?" Kix asked, relishing the looks of shock on the faces of the other medics. He had waited until everyone was present to drop that particular bit of news.
Curl looked surprised, for once. "How did you hear about that?"
"I have my ways," Kix said mysteriously. It paid to be friends with officers from other battalions, and his friendship with Sinker had proven it on multiple occasions.
Looking murderous, Limit drew himself up to full height. "You what?"
Curl knew when to get out of the line of fire and took a few steps away from the mass of muscle that was Limit. "It's not as bad as it sounds! Some of the members of the Wolfpack were experimenting with their jetpacks. I overheard a plan to drop a trooper from cruising altitude and have the other men catch him on the way down. I told them that they wouldn't have to worry about the enemy if they tried it."
Shatter blew out a breath. "Your battalion is something else, Curl."
That was the general consensus, if the nods and grunts around the room were any sign.
"So? Am I forgiven, Limit?" Curl asked, his eyes dancing.
Limit clenched his jaw. "I just don't think there is any- any cause to threaten one of your own troopers. Their safety is your concern, and they get enough threats from outsiders."
Sprain looked curious. "And what do you do when one of your troopers refuses to consider his own safety?"
"I talk to him," Limit answered simply. "Last miss- mission, Lieutenant Galle tried to hide an injury from me. When I found out about it, I treated- treated him and we had a talk about the responsibility of command and the importance of being at your- at your best when the lives of your vode are at risk."
"How did he take that talk?" Kix asked. Galle was notoriously stubborn and took criticism extremely poorly.
"He cried and admitted that I was right."
Surprised laughter met that pronouncement.
"Psychological warfare is the worst kind," Ink told him. "I'd rather someone just shoot at me."
"You don't mean that," Curl said, though his voice made it a question.
Shatter raised his eyebrows. "Would you rather get shot at or have Limit tell you that your life choices were bad?"
With a long look in Limit's direction, Sprain shrugged. "I'd go under fire any day."
"And I sup-suppose you all just threaten your men?"
"Sometimes, you can bribe them instead," Curl countered, keeping a steady distance between Limit and himself.
Any attempt at coherent conversation disintegrated from there, as the medics fell into arguments about the best way to handle stubborn patients. Kix fought a grin as he listened to them all. With medics like these fighting for the Republic, the CIS didn't stand a chance.
Author's Note - As a note, stims are injected, but this is a theoretical powdered version. Go with it. I know some of you have told me your hopes for a happy ending for Kix. While I'm sure he continues to help where he can in his current timeline, the sequel era just doesn't inspire me enough to write a sequel-based happy ending for him. However, the idea of a medic group chat is one that has stuck with me throughout this series, and I wanted to include it in part here! You already know Curl, Shatter, and Sprain. Limit was introduced in the Bly chapter of Nobody Listens to Kix. Ink is new and got his name from his tattoos (not because of my username, I promise!). I hope it provided a lighthearted end to this particular fic.
Thank you to those who have followed or favorited, and especially those who reviewed last chapter: KarajeJinsta, STARWARZMYLIFE, Cuthalion97, Swimming Clara, TheLoneRebel's Stories, Revee, Falconress, LightningStorm2003, Sandriassaber, Sued13, and shadowcat802. I have truly appreciated every interaction. Thank you for the time you've all spent leaving feedback on this story!
Unfortunately, this is the last chapter of this story at this point. Unless I get some new ideas or surrender to my urge to write more about these OCs, this is the end of this particular story. If anyone has interest in a different work about several members of the Coruscant Guard, I have one I'm publishing as my new weekly-updated story. If not, no worries! It has been an absolute joy writing for you! Thank you, as always, for reading! Have a wonderful day!