Ninety-nine met him at the entry of the mess and they walked in together, Ninety-nine with pride and as straight as his crooked body allowed.
"Captain Galaine will read your notes on Cee's squad," Ninety-nine reassured Four. "He prides himself on knowing as much about his troopers as he can."
"I think most captains do," Four replied. Sometimes he thought - no, he knew he must have had caring captains. He must have had exemplary guidance to care for his squads so much now - even knowing they were temporary. Even knowing they weren't really his squads.
He sighed as they got some kaf and found an empty place for the two of them. Sometimes a trooper gestured at him to join them but all too often Ninety-nine wasn't as welcome. It was almost as if the strong straight troopers were afraid of his deformities. Almost afraid he was contagious.
Four thought that a terrible pity. It deprived Ninety-nine of comrades, of friends, of vod. Of belonging. And it deprived the troopers of the intelligence and wisdom of Ninety-nine. Four wasn't sure who lost the most. After a good discussion and insightful remarks by Ninety-nine, he usually thought the troopers lost the most. But sometimes he would see the pained expression on Ninety-nine's face.
Ninety-nine watched Four as he strode to an empty table. He walked sadly. Lithe and strong like any trooper but with an overlaying heaviness of his emotions. Ninety-nine shook his head in confusion. He'd met other reconditioned troopers before but none had seemed as devastated and forlorn as Four. He seemed genuinely pleased to have someone to talk with - even if it was a failed clone.
Ninety-nine was proud to have lunch or kaf or simply sit and discuss things with the sergeant. Four must have been an exemplary sergeant before reconditioning. He gave his heart to the squads he trained and it tore him apart when they were ordered away from Kamino. Yet he kept giving his heart, even knowing he wouldn't be sent out with them. His ideas sometimes stretched Kaminoan rules but always, Ninety-nine thought, in the best of ways.
It hurt him too, but in a different way. He'd never be part of a squad, never fulfill the function for which he was bred. Watching the cadets march onto the transports, excitement buzzing through the air, he wanted so badly to be part of that.
Even with access to the medical center and all its horrors, even with access to the vat crèches and all its promise, he still wanted to be part of the Grand Army of the Republic. A more active part than an unneeded maintenance clone. And that broke his heart.
"I have dreams. They're not bad dreams, you understand." Four chuckled. "Pretty good, actually. Mostly of a squad of clones laughing about this or that." Four's face sombered. "I can never pick up what they're laughing about - seems different almost every time. I can feel the thread of humor when I'm in the dream but not when I wake up."
Ninety-nine nodded and took a sip of his kaf. "I've heard that reconditioned clones have more vivid dreams. I suspect it's because they've been exposed to someplace with more color, more stimulus, more recreational activities, more people than here." He waved one hand, gesturing to the mess, the clones, Kamino itself. "I wouldn't think we could dream something we're not really familiar with."
"Maybe." Four looked at his mug, seemingly surprised it was empty. He pushed it aside and ran his thumb along the smooth texture of the table. "Sometimes I dream of shiny towers and a dark-haired woman wearing a blue scarf over her shoulders. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen." There was a wistful look on Four's face.
Ninety-nine said nothing. There was really nothing to say.
"And then I wake up. The squad, the woman, the laughter - it's all gone. And I remember…"Four stared straight ahead.
"What do you remember, Four?"
Four dropped his gaze to the table and his voice to a whisper. "I remember that they might not be dreams at all but ghosts of the past. And I don't remember who they are. I don't remember them. I don't remember why we're laughing."
The silence seemed to last forever then Ninety-nine spoke. "I wish I could remember for you. I wish I could find out for you."
Four's face twisted as he looked up then down to where his hands were spread flat on the table. He hissed through his teeth. "I think…" He paused again and took a deep breath then released it slowly. "I think they would have liked you. I think you would have liked them." There was a long pause before Four looked Ninety-nine in the face. His eyes were bright and he tried to blink away tears.
"Whoever they were."